Title: Sheffield Roulette
Author: Brigantine
Pairing: Vig/Bean
Rating: NC-17
Warning: AU, just plain smut
Disclaimer:  This universe is so alternate that it's not even real.
Feedback:  Yay!
Archiving: Rugbytackle, LoM
Summary:  Viggo is an early riser.  Sean responds to some coaxing.  (post Novice 
Chronicles, after Anatomically Correct)

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Viggo loves mornings.  In particular, Viggo loves mornings such as this one, when he 
hasn't got an early class to teach, and Sean isn't subject to his usual rush to the museum.  
Today is Saturday, and Viggo is presented with that welcome choice between basking 
beneath the covers with a warm, sleeping Sean for a time while his brain turns over this 
idea and that, or ambling out of bed and into the day to Make Something.  Either way, 
Viggo tends by nature to be an earlier riser than Sean, which means that often he is wide 
awake when Sean is still reluctant to come around.  Today Viggo’s wandering thoughts 
have led him to a third option, one that revs up his adrenaline a notch or two, gets him to 
calculating the risk.  

Viggo does not often crave this.  It is only on the rare occasion, when he wakes feeling 
overwhelmingly randy and perhaps slightly suicidal that he gets to scheming for it.   In 
the early grey light he regards his sleeping lover with a slow, thoughtful smile, and a 
sharp, predatory gleam in his eyes as the gambler in him takes control.  There is a fair 
chance that before Viggo can complete his stealthy mission Sean will wake, suddenly and 
completely, and Viggo will find himself pinned like a bug beneath a praying mantis, 
vigorously snogged and enthusiastically shagged, which is very fine with him, being 
merely a parallel path to the one he started after.  On the other hand, it's just as likely that 
Sean will awaken grouchy and resentful, and then bug-Viggo will find himself with his 
head bitten off, end of tragic story.  Dicey, what Viggo's planning at the moment.  Still, 
the odds of his success are barely high enough that Sean will remain languorous, even 
docile on a fuzzy winter morning like this one, and to a reckless and randy Viggo a 
sleepy and docile Sean is always worth the chance.

In these early moments, when Sean's energy is quiet, he might or he might not allow 
Viggo to slowly lift his arms, gently press his elbows back into the pillow on either side 
of Sean's head, as though it's the first reluctant stretch of the morning.  If Sean remains 
this way for him--unresisting, his eyes closed against the dimly rising daylight while 
Viggo kisses his neck, kisses his chest, licks at one nipple, sucks it delicately into his 
mouth--if Sean stays put, this is the initial green light Viggo's hoping for, and he knows 
that if he's careful, he can draw the blankets and the sheet down past Sean's warm belly, 
mouth softly around his bellybutton, and then, drawing the linens further, suck a pale rose 
to blooming over the prominence of one hip.

Viggo nudges the bedclothes onto the floor, out of his way.  He licks surreptitiously at the 
sides of Sean's knees, curves his fingers into the soft skin at the backs, smiling at the 
small noises Sean always makes when he does that.  Viggo scoops his hands under Sean's 
thighs.  He raises Sean's legs in small increments, until his knees are high toward his 
chest, and then he presses gently, steadily, so that Sean's hips rock upward, and there's 
that knowing little hitch in Sean's breath, and he swallows hard, but still he doesn't fuss, 
and that's when Viggo knows he's got him.  Viggo licks at the musk of Sean's backside, 
explores the sensitive area with a slow, insistent tongue.  

The feel of Viggo's tongue starts to genuinely wake Sean, makes him squirm some, 
giving off tiny, pleased noises.  Viggo nuzzles indulgently at the tender warmth of Sean's 
groin; the velvet skin, the hardening length.  He laps up the slick gleam dewing at the 
crown before he presses Sean's knees outward.  Sean is watching Viggo now with a 
particular expression of languid approval, and he lets his knees relax wide when Viggo 
gently rubs warmed lube first onto his fingers and then onto Sean.  Viggo's fingertips 
begin to stroke and cajole, until Sean's eyes close again, as though he's going back to 
sleep, but the roughness of his breathing says something else.  

Viggo slicks himself, half-mesmerized now by the sight of Sean open and waiting for 
him.  He presses, tentative at first, then pushes inside carefully, his hands soothing 
constantly over Sean's skin. Viggo breathes out a soft moan at the pleasure of Sean's heat 
closing around him, hears Sean breathe out slowly.  He watches Sean's skin blush 
beneath him, from his pelvis to his throat, and as Viggo seats himself deeply within his 
lover's body Sean reaches for Viggo's shoulders.  Viggo's knees dig into the mattress, 
skew the bottom sheet as he lowers himself over Sean, into his embrace.  Sean is 
wonderfully warm and still smells like sleep as Viggo presses his face into the hollow of 
Sean's neck.  He curves his fingers over the backs of Sean's shoulders, their bodies 
synchronizing into the steady rhythm of Viggo's hips, Sean's long fingers trailing and 
grasping over the slickening skin of Viggo's back.  Sean's voice fully wakes around the 
low murmur of Viggo's name.

Viggo might keep this going half the morning, draw out the intimacy and that sweet pain 
of nearly-there.  Now that he's got Sean's permission, now that Sean's caught in the slow 
pleasure between the two of them as thoroughly as Viggo is, he just might keep sliding 
into and out of Sean, might keep kissing him and touching him until the natural demands 
of bodies needing relief, and tea, and breakfast finally assert themselves beyond Viggo's 
control.  He might slip out of Sean for a time, slither down his body, nibble and softly 
gnaw at Sean's hardness there tight against his belly, lick and tease at the soft places on 
the insides of his thighs, hold him trembling at the edge, until Viggo decides to slide back 
inside him and start over, all the while Sean yielding and uncharacteristically patient 
beneath him, blushed rose gold and gleaming in the cool morning light.  Of course, later 
today, or perhaps tomorrow in a moment when Viggo is least expecting it a grinning and 
devious Sean might very well make him pay dearly for all of this.  That's all right with 
Viggo.  Mornings such as this one are always worth the risk.


--end--