Sweating - Chapter 2 Title: Cold Sweat Author: klatschmohn (rotpunkt) Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Viggo Mortensen / Sean Bean Summary: An interpretation of Viggo´s poem “sweating” as a story. When I read his poem, this story came to my mind. Warning: Sean recently won an election to be women´s favourite type of man for “a little bit of rough” – so that is what he is in this chapter. But don´t worry too much, it´s only one side of his personality… Feedback: Yes, please! Email: klatschmohnrot@yahoo.de Disclaimer: All fiction! Never happened. Beta (and much more): thevixenne Artist of the amazing banner was the incredible nevanoon again! Sean had refused to talk about it. First putting it off, then evading the discussion. “I can’t,” was always his terse reply when Viggo pressed him, repeating the words like a mantra, tired, worn out and exhausted of Viggo’s insisting. But there was no way Viggo would let it go. Sean realized that and finally made up his mind. One week after they had returned from their trip, they sat together in Viggo’s house, quietly drinking wine while watching the sunset as they’d done many times before. “What was it for you, Sean? Please…I need to know.” Sean sighed. “It’s hard to explain…” “Just try.” Sean breathed in deeply, not daring to meet the other man’s far too perceptive gaze. “Two years ago my life was completely fucked up. After two divorces my third marriage was pretty much headed in that same direction. Ex-wives and ex-affairs kept coming back to haunt me, the press had a field day and labelled me pretty much every kind of pervert. I just didn’t know how to find the strength to concentrate on my work. Then one night at a club, there was this bloke…it just happened and suddenly I understood. These short adventures with men became the only way of relaxation for me. It was so much easier than with women, not as complicated, and I needed that after all the hell I was going through.” Sean ran his hand through his hair. Viggo just listened, almost expressionless. Sean hesitated a moment, then continued on, hardening his voice. “And that’s the way I like it. I hadn’t planned to do it with you. I thought I shouldn’t mix sex with friendship. Indeed, I swore several vows not to get involved with you. When we were on our trip, I couldn’t remember when I last felt so happy with another person. To be out in nature with you was a relief. Just to have someone around you, who doesn’t pressure you, doesn’t argue, and doesn’t want to change you… I felt so very much at ease with you. I didn’t want to risk that. But it happened, and there’s nothing I can do about that now. I don’t regret it, but I would regret it if it changed anything.” He looked straight at Viggo. “I don’t want a relationship again. Not ever. I tried, failed, tried, failed…I can’t be faithful, can’t live up to someone else’s expectations. I can’t stick to rules. I’m glad I found a way out of this shite and I’m not going to make the same mistakes again. I have nothing to give.” Viggo got up, walking several paces to and fro, before turning again to Sean. “So it was just a fuck?” Sean lifted his head, defiantly. “Why just? What’s wrong with a good fuck?” Pronouncing it coldly, cynically, and Viggo stared at him, disbelieving. “Why did you want me to fuck you raw?” Sean shifted inconveniently, as if his body remembered. “It was just…I wanted the sensation to be really strong…to wipe out everything else on my mind…there were some…things bothering me and I wanted to forget all of that…only feel you inside me.” Compared to the last confessions it sounded almost emotional, and Viggo pressed for further clarification, asking softly, “Then why did you weep, Sean?” Sean immediately stiffened, and answered with a careless gesture of his hand. “Don’t make too much out of this, Viggo. The sex helped me to relieve some tension. After all that’s the reason why I sleep with men. Too much stress had been bottled up and was set free the moment I relaxed… that’s all. Even if I wanted to tell you the details, I couldn’t. I don’t know myself. Just an addition of many trivial matters.” Viggo let his back fall against the wall, thoughtfully looking at Sean. Strands of hair hung over his face and he looked very young and forlorn. “I take it you would do it again, then… just for a little stress relief.” Sean shrugged, with a casual indifference Viggo found insulting. “Why not? It’s up to you…unless, if it interferes with your moral judgments…” “Fuck you, Sean. This has nothing to do with moral judgements.” “Well, then…” Sean rose, approaching Viggo with smooth but almost predatory movements, a dangerous smirk on his face. This man was such a gorgeous villain… radiating vicious attractiveness with his wicked grin, his wonderful aquiline nose, with the irresistible magnetism of his eyes, eyes of an unbelievable green god had created specially for him. Viggo had always thought there was only one reason not to cast Sean for the villain in a film – he couldn´t imagine anyone would want to see the hero win as soon as Sean played the villain. Viggo didn’t flinch, still leaning against the wall, looking up into Sean’s eyes as he stood before him. A strange mixture of expressions flickered through Sean’s face, hunger and almost venom, lust and something like savage triumph. “Suck me off, Viggo…,” he ordered, his voice low and raspy. Before Viggo could react, Sean grabbed his wrists, turning them painfully and forced Viggo down on his knees. Not that he was the stronger of the two, just far more intent in his purpose, going straight for his target, while Viggo was trapped between contradictory impulses. “Come on, Viggo,” Sean quickly unzipped his trousers, and, not bothering to undress further, released his cock, which demanded entrance, leaving smeary snail-traces on Viggo’s face while jumping with anticipation. “Yes…” Sean hissed approvingly as he managed to push inside, not an undertaking without risk, because Viggo didn’t really open his mouth actively and Sean had to rely on the ´give´. Sean proceeded too fast for Viggo’s overloaded brain to cope, and as Sean murmured instructions he obeyed, instinct taking over, and he sucked, tamping down shame and anger at what he was allowing Sean to do. “I want you to swallow me, Vig… yes… don’t miss a drop… no, look at me… I want to see how I fuck your mouth… hard…let me watch you drink it…ahhhh…” Sean grabbed a handful of hair in his neck, thus pulling his head a little back, forcing him to meet Sean’s lustful stare. Sean’s cock was still deep down his throat, not caring how Viggo should breathe, and Viggo swallowed hastily, desperately suppressing his gag reflex. He was not without experience in that discipline, but Sean certainly stretched his limits with his amount of relentlessness. Afterwards Sean gently withdrew his now softening cock, gripping Viggo under his arms, pulling him up. His eyes were shining contentedly. “Ok. What do you want me to do for you now?” Viggo shook his head unbelievingly, still lost in the surrealistic haze of having had Sean’s cock in his mouth. “So you see it as bartering with goods. Suck my dick and I will jerk you off. Looking for: light bondage. Offering: a fisting. Maybe you can fuck my ass but that makes two blow-jobs,” Viggo added sarcastically. “Sounds fair to me,” Sean shrugged again in his arrogant, annoying manner. “God Sean, it’s ridiculous! You think you’re going to keep your emotions at bay like this? Take it as a deal, do it hard and fast, never let anything like tenderness enter into it, and then you’re safe, protected against feelings, and as long as you ban the feelings, everything will be fine? No grief, no sorrow, no jealousy… no pain, no complications… is that what you have in mind, Sean?” “Well, actually, yes.” Sean said with unwavering hardness. “If I miss the prattle of love any time, I can always go back to women.” Viggo laughed bitterly. He pulled away, and as Sean tried to touch him again he shrank back as if Sean’s hand was poisoned. “Vig, I told you before…” “Yes, Sean, indeed you did. Only I can’t get this bullshit into my head. Trading fucks with you is of no use for me. You don’t have what I want.” ********************************* After he left Sean and returned to his home he suddenly thought of his poem. Of the little bird, wanting it all – struggling to reach the rich and beautiful waterfall right before his eyes, but forced to make due with less than a drop. And now he saw the connection.