Title: Sweat, till you can sweat no more…
Author: klatschmohn (rotpunkt)
Rating: NC-17 
Pairing: Viggo Mortensen / Sean Bean – featuring Ian Mc Kellen as guest star
Summary: An interpretation of Viggo´s poem “sweating” as a story. When I read his 
poem, this story came to my mind.
Feedback: Yes, please! Email: klatschmohnrot@yahoo.de
Disclaimer: All fiction! Never happened.
Beta, muse, advisor, sister and helper: thevixenne 
Dear Helena_s_renn, dear idlesloth, your mentioning of the meaning of tenderness 
made me think further on this point – and this is the result!

Look at that banner! This time nevanoon really knocked me off my feet! Yeah, the 
cloud pierced by the jet… and what a jet…

Sweating - Chapter 3


The bastard knew.

Each time Viggo looked at Sean he felt that Sean watched him…watched him with an 
almost fiendish delight as Viggo struggled to keep it together, to not show the 
desperate longing in his eyes.

The sick bugger obviously enjoyed seeing the pain he caused.

There was no other explanation. Viggo tried to act normally, to appear light-hearted, 
joking and laughing with his usual carefree attitude, and with most people, he could 
get away with it.

But not with Sean, who saw right through him.

In the beginning Viggo wanted to believe that Sean was hurting him thoughtlessly, as 
he watched the man exchange flirtatious glances and touches with other members of 
the cast and crew, or let Viggo wait for a call, for a smile, or for an opportunity to 
spend some time with him.

But soon Viggo realised that Sean was acting with deliberate cruelty, which made the 
situation both better and worse. Worse, because he knew that Sean wanted to and 
enjoyed seeing him bleed. Better, because when Sean tortured him like this, at least 
it was proof the emerald-eyed man didn’t feel indifferent towards him.
 
There was no way that Sean couldn’t tell the effect he was having on Viggo, that he 
didn’t know about the tears and the sleepless nights, and though obscured by a note 
of concern, malicious satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, as if he wanted to make sure 
Viggo still loved him, even though he rejected that same love. 

As if he gained strength from of his power to make Viggo suffer.

Viggo had pierced his body, and Sean had felt it for three days afterward, like the jet 
is heard after it’s gone like a Doppler shift.

But Sean had pierced his soul. 

And he still felt it. 

Like a summer cloud ripped up forever.

************************************

After filming, Viggo had been in a hurry to leave the set, only to turn back halfway, 
because he realised it was no use to spend the rest of the day brooding on his sofa. 
Now he hung around near the trailers, hoping to perhaps meet Sean by ‘accident’, 
though he had no idea what he wanted to do or say to him.

Several members of the cast passed by, pausing for small-talk or to invite him out for 
a night on the town. 

Nearly an hour had passed with no sign of Sean, when Ian stepped towards him.

Ian did his best to put up a conversation, which normally wasn’t very difficult – Ian 
McKellen was an excellent conversationalist.  He knew he only had to mention 
certain interesting aspects of the characters in the film or changes in the script, and 
once Viggo had swallowed the bait, the introspection and explanations could go on 
for hours on end.

Viggo would deeply analyze Aragorn’s actions; how his vast knowledge of history and 
the ability to consider the point of view of everyone involved in the fate of the ring 
tended to cause doubts in his mind. On the other hand, how Boromir’s single-minded 
desire to protect the people of Gondor at any cost at last lead to clearer positions and 
convictions that guided his future actions. 

Viggo would point out that the message of the film was not primarily that there were 
good and evil beings, but that individuals as different from each other as elves and 
dwarfs could become true friends, because all living beings are connected.

However, Ian couldn’t get Viggo started this time.

After a while he gave up, and with an awkward little smile he said, “He went off with 
Dave.”

Viggo’s gaped at him as if he had tried Chinese on him.

“Sean,” Ian offered, with a little nervous twitch in his eyes, as if he expected Viggo to 
run wild.

The past few days Viggo had often thought of possible rivals. To imagine it might be 
Dave once again made it better, and worse.

Better, because he really liked Dave and if there was anyone he would trust to take 
care of Sean, it was Dave. Worse, for those same reasons…

“Sorry, Viggo – no intrusion meant… I just… I couldn’t leave you standing here with 
that look on your face any longer…” Ian apologized.

But after a few seconds Viggo only smiled with wry self-irony: “Is it so obvious, 
then…,” he whispered huskily.

“That you love Sean?” Ian asked quietly, his voice full of sympathy.

“No need to lower your voice, Ian,” Viggo drawled sarcastically. “I mean, you saw it 
as if it was imprinted across my forehead. I wonder why I ever bothered with 
discretion. Might as well have discussed it with the make-up-girls…”

“Don’t worry, Viggo,” Ian laughed low in his chest. “First of all, my dear boy, I have 
been an actor for several decades, so it’s my job to know how emotions express 
themselves in faces and postures. Second, I’m an old faggot who by cliché are said 
to be perceptive of the feelings of others. Third, I’ve been in love about 42 times, 
80% of the time in vain, which still leaves still an over-average rate of success if you 
ask my opinion. Fourth, I care for you as a friend.  So, it’s only because of the 
coincidence of all these supporting factors that I know you love him. I don’t think 
anyone else knows. Besides Sean, that is…”

While talking he had managed to guide Viggo away from the set and into the forest. 
After a while they rested at a little clearing, sitting in the grass leaning on a fallen tree. 
Viggo finally revealed his heart, telling Ian everything that had happened between 
Sean and him. 

“Can you look behind his mask, too?” Viggo asked at last, cautiously, hopefully.

“Viggo, I don’t have to be Sigmund Freud to tell he’s afraid…as long as he’s the one 
who’s doing all the hurting, no one else can hurt him. It’s really that simple. Yes, I can 
look behind that arrogance. But that doesn’t mean he will ever drop his defences.  
The wall he has built up around him is very solid.”

“What would you do if you were in my place?” Viggo asked, turning towards Ian.

Ian kept silent for a while and Viggo tried to read the runes and smart little wrinkles 
round his eyes, looking in that face full of kindness and humour.

“Me?” Ian asked, thoughtfully.

 “What would you do?” Viggo pressed him for an answer.

“I’d simply take what I could get,” Ian said calmly, honestly – there was no hint of 
greed, only modesty and undemandingness. .

Viggo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What do you mean by that?” 

“You told me he’s ready to sleep with you. That’s more than many people who are in 
love can hope for. There are millions of men and women in love who would be 
grateful for just a friendly word of their beloved.”

Viggo snorted with indignation. “You must be joking. You’re telling me I should throw 
away my self-respect and let him use me?” he spat out, sharply.

“I’m not telling you to do anything, Viggo,” Ian said, with sudden strictness. “I’m not 
giving you advice. You asked what I would do – but if you’re implying I have no self-
respect, I’m not going to accept that. Why take nothing because you can’t have it all? 
Can you ever have it all? Isn’t there always a difference between two partners, do 
you really believe it often happens that they love each other exactly with the same 
intensity? You accuse Sean for seeing it as a trade…but you’re not willing to give 
your love before you’re sure he’ll love you back?”

Viggo didn’t know what to say.

Ian’s gaze softened, and he continued with warmth in his voice: “To distance yourself 
from him makes sense only if you’re resolved to strangle your love and cut off your 
feelings for him. So, you have to answer one question for yourself: will you be able to 
forget him this way? Can you stop loving him?”

Viggo didn’t have to think long to answer that question; In fact, he didn’t have to think 
at all. And by the look in Ian’s face, the other man knew the answer, too.

*************************************

“You still owe me.”

Sean smiled, amused but with a certain guardedness, suspicious still of Viggo’s 
motives. “Come in…”

“What do you have in mind, Mortensen?” Sean asked, as soon as they reached the 
living room and he turned to Viggo, standing very close, his hot searching gaze on 
Viggo.

He must have seen something in Viggo’s eyes that reassured him of his superior 
position, because he visibly relaxed, and that bloody smirk spread all over his face. 
He stepped even closer, whispering,  “What do you want, Viggo?” 

Viggo was lost as Sean’s rusty-dirty-honey-whiskey-smoky timbre trickled in his ears, 
intoxicating him like sweet poison, sending shivers through his whole body.

Viggo liked to watch Sean’s commercials. He would have bought anything Sean was 
pitching, if only the advertisements hadn’t always left him wanting Sean and not 
remembering the product.

Oh god, he should have made up his mind before, he should have come here with 
his reasons clearly defined in his head and his heart.  Now that Sean’s hands were 
sneaking under his T-shirt and Sean’s voice crept under his skin, instantly hotlinking 
his eardrum to his groin, making each little hair rise in excitement, he felt Sean’s will 
was infiltrating him, mastering him.

Sean was hard. Viggo knew though Sean was not yet close enough to feel it, but he 
could read it in Sean’s face. Sean’s lips slightly parted, lush and moistened… his 
nostrils flared like that of an animal taking up the trail… his eyebrows frowning just a 
little bit at the rising tension in his body… the deep black of his pupils widening, his 
eyes shining with feverish glow. And his tongue…lying in wait, predatory - the tip 
licking at his teeth in hungry anticipation. Everything about Sean was pure raw sex, 
and his aroused face so close before him made Viggo’s blood rush to his groin 
immediately, leaving every other part of his body weak and trembling.

Sean sensed the shiver that ran through Viggo’s body as he touched him, and his 
damn grin broadened smugly, as it burst out of Viggo’s breast:

“Fuck me.” 

Viggo’s voice was broken ragged whisper of desperate need. Sean’s eyes lightened 
with open triumph. He didn’t bother to disguise it and Viggo shut his eyes with 
humiliation. 

God, why was he such a meek weakling to come crawling back to Sean, begging for 
more abuse… but he didn’t really care now, shrugging off his pride like a ragged 
coat. 

“Other than you I prefer with lube,” Viggo growled, as Sean had walked him to the 
bedroom. Sean grinned, opened a drawer and showed a bottle of lube to Viggo, 
shaking it to indicate by the sound it was still filled completely.

“Will that be enough?”

“Trying to prove that you don’t use it very often,” Viggo asked sardonically.

“Just proof I don’t have much opportunity,” Sean replied coldly.

“That’s funny, I could have sworn the complete opposite.” Viggo snarled, and, as 
Sean looked at him with question marks in his stare, he rolled his eyes.

“Oh. Him.” Sean finally got the hint that Viggo was referring to Dave, whose offers in 
Sean’s direction were hardly subtle. “I don’t like him. Not that way.”

“Thought emotions didn’t matter.”

“Stop it, Vig,” Sean demanded softly. And Viggo hadn´t wanted to do it.

“Maybe it’s better we stop talking and just fuck,” Viggo said bluntly

This time Sean was gentle, kissing Viggo seductively, persuasively, as if he just had 
picked him up, convinced him to come home with him, yet still expected some 
reluctance. There was a certain air of generosity in his caresses.  Viggo couldn’t 
exactly call it condescension, but it was the sort of gentlemanliness that stemmed 
from the certainty of success and utter superiority. The moment he saw Viggo all 
weak and vulnerable Sean’s natural “protector-instinct” had taken over. Viggo wasn’t 
sure whether he should be pleased or annoyed.

But when Sean’s deft, experienced hands explored his body and Sean’s lascivious 
mouth was over his, it ceased to matter anymore.

“Oh Viggo…you’re so beautiful,” Sean sighed, showering Viggo with exuberant 
tenderness and compliments. At some point Viggo had the suspicion he was being 
expertly seduced by a man well-versed in the art – not that a man as powerfully virile 
as Sean Bean would ever need to rely on tricks, though.

 – and while he smiled to himself, amused, a little panicked voice from somewhere 
deep in his head tried to warn him.

He understood Sean used his tenderness purposefully, dizzying his mind, soft-
soaping him.

While Sean’s knowing hands moulded him into the required position, skilfully 
handling him like delicate china, he murmured soft lovely words, alluring and 
arousing at once. 

“Oh yes…just stay like this…I will please you…let me do this for you…will you let me 
do this for you…?” 

Viggo got the message, in other words, Sean told him he was not allowed to move or 
touch himself. Though Viggo knew it was an order, disguised as a promise, that he 
was manipulated, coaxed into spineless surrender, until Sean could fuck him as hard 
as he wanted, do to him whatever he wanted… he just didn’t have it in him to resist. 

If Sean had ordered him around like the last time, Viggo had already drawn the line. 
Sean would not overpower him with violence again.

But what Sean did now was even worse. It seemed the bastard knew exactly what 
means were required to get Viggo where he wanted him. He kept on whispering 
seductive promises, and Viggo knew the words were only honeyed lies.

But that was his brain, and in the some-thousand year-old war between brain and 
body the brain didn’t win a single battle, as Oscar Wilde had said. He wanted to 
believe Sean’s sweet little lies, desperately yearned to believe. His mind cursed his 
stupid heart, but his heart, like a hungry swamp, soaked up each word Sean said. 

Thankfully Sean didn’t talk of love, at least. It stayed the one word he didn’t misuse. 
Sean seemed to know this would have gone too far and would only have alarmed 
Viggo.

He only kept on whispering how beautiful Viggo was, how he had missed him and 
longed for him, how much he wanted to please him…mind-numbing promises that 
inconspicuously turned into softly murmured instructions.

Viggo obeyed, without Sean even needing to command, he obeyed every gesture, 
every light pressure of Sean’s controlling hands taking possession of him. Sean took 
care of him, giving him what he needed with empathetic understanding.

In Sean’s eyes he was defeated - had given in and lost - and now Sean could afford 
to indulge him. Viggo decided to just let it happen and not question Sean’s motives.

At least he wanted to believe it was still a decision…

Ian was right. His love for Sean wouldn’t just dissipate. Time wouldn’t heal it.
The only thing he could do was to get as much out of it as possible. Knowing he 
would miss Sean for the rest of his life anyway, it was better to have something to 
remember.

Sean slid into him smoothly and fucked him with slow and deep thrusts, taking his 
time. He fucked him as if he never wanted to stop fucking him, halting for several 
breaths only when he came close to the edge, enjoying Viggo’s writhing and 
begging…

…Sean’s devilish grin above him, Sean’s cock sweeping in sweet slow-motion, then 
again reaming him hard, changing angle and speed, but never, never ending to thrust 
and pump inside him, until he forgot they were separate beings, knowing Sean’s cock 
belonged inside him, existed to fuck him, like he existed to receive Sean’s fucking.

Oh god… tension building up ever-so-slowly, delicately, prickling from his toes and 
fingertips up to his ears, electrifying every single hair on his skin. Viggo felt series of 
impulses shooting through his nervous system, connecting every single organ in his 
body to the sensation in his groin. Viggo knew if Sean went on like this, it would lead 
to the orgasm of the century. 

There was the kind of orgasm you feel primarily in your cock, the kind of orgasm you 
have after hard and fast sex, a quick but shallow relief.

This was something very different, and long before the end Viggo knew he would feel 
it everywhere inside, he would even feel it outside his body, because the distinction 
between you and me, inside and outside, subject and object didn’t exist anymore. 

Much worse, he would feel it in his brain, in his soul, in his heart… and if Sean could 
do that to him, there was no way he would ever escape the emptiness of wanting 
him, he would never get away from him.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and with one last attempt to flee from the intensity of the 
coming orgasm that frightened him he reached down, trying to take his cock and 
finish before Sean drove him into a state of desperate need that meant slavery 
forever.

But of course Sean didn’t let him escape. 

“Don’t…” a warm deep rumble in his voice, and again it was the softness, the almost-
pleading that forced Viggo to comply, more effectively than any order could do. “Just 
let me… Viggo…let me fuck you…I will fuck you till you scream…I will fuck you, 
Viggo…” 

Sean dragged out his orgasm, and Viggo waited for him, completely giving up 
control, even giving up the want for control, and he was Sean’s.

They would go on like that forever, unify and fuse.

Finally Viggo felt Sean’s whole body tense and contract, before he was shaken in 
waves of pleasure, pressing his come inside him, pushing in without control. A flush 
of hotness spread over his skin. Viggo felt as if Sean melted on him, wrapped his 
arms and legs tightly around him, his own come squirting out between them, clueing 
them together. 

The first time their eyes met after they had recovered Sean looked at him with an 
openness Viggo hadn’t seen in his eyes since their night at the waterfall.

Viggo was certain Sean had planned to get Viggo under him by whatever means – if 
it was tenderness that was required, no problem; Sean Bean could do that easily 
enough.

But tenderness was a mighty spell and not carelessly used without taking the risk that 
it acted on both sides…and obviously Viggo wasn’t the only one who succumbed.

Sean couldn’t stay cool and distant any longer, just watching Viggo lose it, as he 
might have had in his mind when he started his methodical seduction.

Now they were far beyond “under” and “over”, “active” and “passive”, “top” and 
“bottom”… 

Viggo was surprised how easily Sean let go.

The desperate need in Sean’s eyes as he fucked him already had almost been 
enough to make up for his tortures, but now, right in the moment when Viggo felt he’d 
like to fuck Sean for a change, Sean rolled over and offered his ass, without Viggo 
even having to ask for it.

The inner connection, that made their communion so easy during their trip now 
showed in their sex – they moved as if sharing a mutual choreography of passion and 
desire. 

They took turns fucking each other through the night, fucking each other into oblivion, 
until the echo of their orgasms pulsed back in the universe and they ended up as an 
exhausted, breathing heap of arms and legs and other body parts, not very well 
sorted out, but that could wait until tomorrow.

***********************************

 “So you don’t have an issue with that anymore?” Sean asked at breakfast.

“No.”

“May I ask how come?” Sean tried to sound nonchalant, but Viggo’s trained ear 
registered an undertone of worry and disappointment.

Why was it always much more difficult to act when it came to real life, Viggo 
wondered, hoping that his next words to Sean would be convincing.   Being an actor 
should be good for something. 

Viggo concentrated on all his skills, his body language filled with casual insouciance. 
“I thought you were the one for me, Sean. The one whom I wanted to share my life 
with.”  He shrugged carelessly, never taking his eyes from the other man’s.  “But after 
I learned what you think of sex and love I realized you’re not the man I need after all. 
It was just wishful thinking, a projection. I wanted to see something in you that simply 
didn’t exist, and that’s entirely my fault.  You never lied to me. It took me a while to 
figure it out, but now…” 

“Now you’re through with it?” A slight tremble was contained within Sean’s question.

“Yes.” Viggo answered with searing finality, closing the door.  He was proud of 
himself. 

God, he was convincing! Even better than any audition.

“Good,” replied Sean, his voice thick.

There was an awkward silence between them now, and just to fill the emptiness, 
Viggo told Sean of how he had watched the little bird.

Viggo loved watching Sean listening to him. Sean concentrated completely on his 
partner, his bright eyes fixed on the other one like a spotlight, making him feel like the 
most important person in the world…like the only person in the world who mattered.

Sean could listen like a child enraptured by a fairy tale, not making a sound, never 
nodding or interrupting with small noises, feigning interest…he really paid attention, 
setting everything else aside. 

After he’d heard the story, he stayed silent for a minute, then he asked: 
“If they are thirsty – why don’t these birds just fly some way down the river, where it 
flows calmly…?

Viggo peered at him, stunned the thought had never occurred to him. Yeah, the 
practical side of things… Sean was always so much better at that.

“Well… maybe they live up there for other reasons… the rocks giving shelter for their 
nests and so on… and it would be much to far to fly down each time… or… maybe… 
maybe there are some birds that have to do it the hard way.”