ext_46181 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2006-10-26 01:15 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-10-26 01:15 pm
Fic: Controlled 27/45
Title: Controlled (27/45)
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series and for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo
Warnings: BDSM, sap
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: Elijah sees the vacation photos.
Edit: So sorry about the original mislabled rating!!! It's been fixed now.
Previous Chapters
“Mmm. You taste excellent. That the Pinot?”
Viggo laughed and pulled Elijah inside the house by his elbows. “We’ll make a wine expert out of you yet. I just made some prints, do you want to see?”
“Hmm, depends.” Elijah cocked his head to the side, a cocky grin lighting up his eyes. “Can I have another taste?”
Viggo growled and pulled Elijah to him, slipping his hands up under the back of Elijah’s jumper. A few days left of the break and it was starting to get cooler, autumn firmly establishing its hold in Wellington. Elijah lifted his arms and the garment was tugged off and dropped unceremoniously to the floor.
“Sweet… a bit of a bite. Not sure I completely understand the complexities of this vintage, though,” Elijah teased, now with a full-on grin. Viggo let himself be backed into a wall, sighing as Elijah licked behind his gums and chased the taste of wine between his lips and teeth.
“Oy, hobbit. You tempt me too much,” Viggo admitted as Elijah pulled away for a long breath, his fingers creeping up to brush over the contrast of dark velvet and pale neck. Elijah gasped and automatically tilted his head to the side, letting Viggo trace the band of ownership and place a reverent kiss below his throat, nose bumping against the stone.
“Fuck me, Vig. There was something about pictures.”
“Yeah, come on,” Viggo agreed, tugging Elijah’s wrist and leading him to the small downstairs bathroom-cum-darkroom. The window was sealed off with black paper so that Viggo could work, and an overhead fan kept the room well ventilated. Now the prints were hung from a line, which stretched out the door and to the opposite wall, blocking passage to the kitchen.
Elijah stopped in the corridor and examined the pictures, each individually as Viggo’s hands came to rest possessively on either side of his waist, his fingers splaying across Elijah’s bare stomach and dipping under the waistband of his jeans. There were fifteen prints, enlarged to eight by ten, that Viggo had chosen from their trip. The first was of a vineyard, the sun low in the sky as Elijah grinned seductively at the camera, taking a bite from a grape. He could just make out a smudge of dark in the black and white print—the trail of purple juice on his chin that Viggo had later licked away greedily.
Elijah smiled, remembering how happy he had been that evening, and the absolute relaxation of the massage later on. Viggo bent to nibble on his neck as he moved on to the next photos, these in colour. There was one of Ruapehu erupting, the colours brilliant and a bit overexposed, and then the next of Elijah on the bonnet of the car, his face especially pale in the morning light. There were several more scenery shots—White Island, Cathedral Cove, Auckland at night—and then another of Elijah that he hadn’t even known about, just his face poking up above the sleeping bag, sunrise shining through the blue fabric of the tent and tinting his skin. He smiled at that one, how peaceful he looked, and turned his head to place a gentle kiss on Viggo’s lips.
“These are brilliant, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.”
“You’re brilliant. You’re the best inspiration I’ve had in years.”
“Years, yeah?” Elijah grinned as Viggo’s hand came up to brush his collar, the other slipping under his shirt to splay wide and warm on his bare back.
“Mmm. Can I keep you?” Viggo smiled brightly, and Elijah giggled, ducking his head to nuzzle at Viggo’s neck, breathing deeply to inhale his scent.
“For as long as you’ll have me, old man.”
“Come to bed then,” Viggo purred, nipping at Elijah’s earlobe. “I’ll let you take me this time.”
Elijah gasped, growing instantly erect as Viggo ducked under the line of pictures and headed for the kitchen. Elijah followed, confused, and watched as Viggo lifted the glass of wine from the table and took a sip before handing it to Elijah.
“Fuck, Vig,” he exclaimed as he licked his wine-stained lips. “Do I get… control, of this?”
“Control?” Viggo smiled, taking the glass from Elijah after second sip. “Within reason.”
“Then, I don’t want to do it in the bed.”
“No?” Viggo smiled at Eljiah. “Well then where do you want to do it?”
“Right here,” Elijah replied, grinning at Viggo as he stepped forward, pushing Viggo towards the kitchen table. “On the table,” he clarified, licking under Viggo’s ear. “Think you can handle it, old man?”
“You known I can,” Viggo agreed, running his fingers through Elijah’s hair and tipping his head back for a kiss. “Keep in mind that it’s been a while, though.”
“I know. I’ll be gentle,” Elijah promised, pulling Viggo back into the kiss as he worked his shirt buttons open, pushing the fabric off of Viggo’s shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.
“There’s lube in the drawer by the sink,” Viggo suggested when Elijah pulled away for breath, sliding his belt out of his jeans and dropping them to the floor before bending over the table.
“Aren’t you the boy scout?” Elijah joked, though his voice was a little shaky with the sight of Viggo bent over the table, presenting himself for Elijah. “God, you’re beautiful like this,” Elijah exclaimed as he screwed the cap off the tube of lubricant and squirted some onto his fingers. “Now I know why you like to do this so much.”
Viggo laughed, but the sound was cut off as Elijah wiggled a slick finger inside his opening, pushing past the tight resistance and inside a more forgiving channel. Elijah stroked and rubbed as gently as he could, and Viggo groaned.
“That’s it, baby,” Viggo encouraged. “Just a little more lube and you can get a second finger in, okay?”
Elijah squirted another dollop of lube around the skin stretched around his finger and prodded carefully with a second. His eyes locked on the flex and stretch of Viggo’s hole as he accommodated the new stretch, and he couldn’t look away.
“Christ… this is so fucking… obscene,” Elijah murmured, his voice awed as he scissored and curled his fingers.
Viggo smiled and looked over his shoulder, pressing his arse backwards as he did so. “I’m about ready,” he informed Elijah in a rough whisper as Elijah twisted both fingers at once and then flicked hard at Viggo’s prostate.
“Thank fuck,” Elijah muttered, slicking his cock up liberally with lube both to give Viggo the extra help and to avoid an amount of friction that would make this end before it had really begun. “You good?” he asked, sliding his fingers out and groaning at the way he could feel Viggo’s muscles contracting again as his fingertips slid past.
“Yeah, come on, Elijah, fuck me,” Viggo muttered, widening his stance and pushing his arse back, his weight braced on his elbows.
Elijah grinned and spread Viggo’s arse open with his thumbs, lining up at what he judged to be the best angle and then sliding in slowly, tilting his hips a bit to make the last few inches. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered when he was fully inside, his pubic hairs rasping against the top of Viggo’s crack and his balls slapping below. He had to take a moment to steady himself, adjusting to the incredible tightness and heat as he took in the taut muscles of Viggo’s back, covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He placed his hands on Viggo’s hips to steady him, and noticed that his fingers were trembling.
“Now, Elijah. Please, move,” Viggo begged, and Elijah groaned, forgetting caution, forgetting how long it had been for Viggo, as his hips snapped out and then back into that unforgiving heat. He groaned loudly, his rhythm picking up of it’s own accord, and pressed open mouthed kisses to Viggo’s neck and upper back, reaching underneath to cup Viggo’s balls and then slide his hand slowly over Viggo’s cock, in a counterpoint to his sharp thrusts.
“Jesus,” Elijah groaned, not sure how much longer he would last. “Are you okay, do you…?”
“Yeah, baby, come on, come for me, go ahead,” Viggo urged. Elijah wanted to wait, but didn’t have a chance at those words, and came with a loud cry, depositing his seed deep in Viggo’s arse.
“Fuck,” he muttered, unable to move for a moment. When he finally did pull out, his softened cock slipped from between Viggo’s cheeks with a pop, and Elijah could see a slight trickle of clear fluid down the inside of one of Viggo’s thighs. “Holy shit, that’s hot,” he muttered, dropping to his knees to inspect the situation more thoroughly. “Dirty, but fucking hot,” he clarified, and Viggo groaned, humping air.
“Damnit, Elijah, please,” he moaned, and Elijah grinned, scooting on his knees to Viggo’s front, getting a good grip on both thighs as he moved in, his head skimming the underside of the table, to suck him. Elijah could smell his own release as it gathered on Viggo’s balls and trickled down his skin, and he groaned around Viggo’s cock, achieving a quick release for the older man, who thrust a few times down Elijah’s throat and then gave in, come flowing down Elijah’s throat before he pulled away with a cheeky grin and emerged from the table.
“Not bad, old man.”
“I’ll tell you who you’re calling old man,” Viggo mumbled in a threatening tone, but Elijah just laughed, seeing how his lover was bent over with his head on his folded arms, not looking capable of much anytime soon.
“I’ll take a raincheck,” Elijah murmured fondly, dropping a kiss to Viggo’s shoulder.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series and for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo
Warnings: BDSM, sap
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: Elijah sees the vacation photos.
Edit: So sorry about the original mislabled rating!!! It's been fixed now.
Previous Chapters
“Mmm. You taste excellent. That the Pinot?”
Viggo laughed and pulled Elijah inside the house by his elbows. “We’ll make a wine expert out of you yet. I just made some prints, do you want to see?”
“Hmm, depends.” Elijah cocked his head to the side, a cocky grin lighting up his eyes. “Can I have another taste?”
Viggo growled and pulled Elijah to him, slipping his hands up under the back of Elijah’s jumper. A few days left of the break and it was starting to get cooler, autumn firmly establishing its hold in Wellington. Elijah lifted his arms and the garment was tugged off and dropped unceremoniously to the floor.
“Sweet… a bit of a bite. Not sure I completely understand the complexities of this vintage, though,” Elijah teased, now with a full-on grin. Viggo let himself be backed into a wall, sighing as Elijah licked behind his gums and chased the taste of wine between his lips and teeth.
“Oy, hobbit. You tempt me too much,” Viggo admitted as Elijah pulled away for a long breath, his fingers creeping up to brush over the contrast of dark velvet and pale neck. Elijah gasped and automatically tilted his head to the side, letting Viggo trace the band of ownership and place a reverent kiss below his throat, nose bumping against the stone.
“Fuck me, Vig. There was something about pictures.”
“Yeah, come on,” Viggo agreed, tugging Elijah’s wrist and leading him to the small downstairs bathroom-cum-darkroom. The window was sealed off with black paper so that Viggo could work, and an overhead fan kept the room well ventilated. Now the prints were hung from a line, which stretched out the door and to the opposite wall, blocking passage to the kitchen.
Elijah stopped in the corridor and examined the pictures, each individually as Viggo’s hands came to rest possessively on either side of his waist, his fingers splaying across Elijah’s bare stomach and dipping under the waistband of his jeans. There were fifteen prints, enlarged to eight by ten, that Viggo had chosen from their trip. The first was of a vineyard, the sun low in the sky as Elijah grinned seductively at the camera, taking a bite from a grape. He could just make out a smudge of dark in the black and white print—the trail of purple juice on his chin that Viggo had later licked away greedily.
Elijah smiled, remembering how happy he had been that evening, and the absolute relaxation of the massage later on. Viggo bent to nibble on his neck as he moved on to the next photos, these in colour. There was one of Ruapehu erupting, the colours brilliant and a bit overexposed, and then the next of Elijah on the bonnet of the car, his face especially pale in the morning light. There were several more scenery shots—White Island, Cathedral Cove, Auckland at night—and then another of Elijah that he hadn’t even known about, just his face poking up above the sleeping bag, sunrise shining through the blue fabric of the tent and tinting his skin. He smiled at that one, how peaceful he looked, and turned his head to place a gentle kiss on Viggo’s lips.
“These are brilliant, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.”
“You’re brilliant. You’re the best inspiration I’ve had in years.”
“Years, yeah?” Elijah grinned as Viggo’s hand came up to brush his collar, the other slipping under his shirt to splay wide and warm on his bare back.
“Mmm. Can I keep you?” Viggo smiled brightly, and Elijah giggled, ducking his head to nuzzle at Viggo’s neck, breathing deeply to inhale his scent.
“For as long as you’ll have me, old man.”
“Come to bed then,” Viggo purred, nipping at Elijah’s earlobe. “I’ll let you take me this time.”
Elijah gasped, growing instantly erect as Viggo ducked under the line of pictures and headed for the kitchen. Elijah followed, confused, and watched as Viggo lifted the glass of wine from the table and took a sip before handing it to Elijah.
“Fuck, Vig,” he exclaimed as he licked his wine-stained lips. “Do I get… control, of this?”
“Control?” Viggo smiled, taking the glass from Elijah after second sip. “Within reason.”
“Then, I don’t want to do it in the bed.”
“No?” Viggo smiled at Eljiah. “Well then where do you want to do it?”
“Right here,” Elijah replied, grinning at Viggo as he stepped forward, pushing Viggo towards the kitchen table. “On the table,” he clarified, licking under Viggo’s ear. “Think you can handle it, old man?”
“You known I can,” Viggo agreed, running his fingers through Elijah’s hair and tipping his head back for a kiss. “Keep in mind that it’s been a while, though.”
“I know. I’ll be gentle,” Elijah promised, pulling Viggo back into the kiss as he worked his shirt buttons open, pushing the fabric off of Viggo’s shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.
“There’s lube in the drawer by the sink,” Viggo suggested when Elijah pulled away for breath, sliding his belt out of his jeans and dropping them to the floor before bending over the table.
“Aren’t you the boy scout?” Elijah joked, though his voice was a little shaky with the sight of Viggo bent over the table, presenting himself for Elijah. “God, you’re beautiful like this,” Elijah exclaimed as he screwed the cap off the tube of lubricant and squirted some onto his fingers. “Now I know why you like to do this so much.”
Viggo laughed, but the sound was cut off as Elijah wiggled a slick finger inside his opening, pushing past the tight resistance and inside a more forgiving channel. Elijah stroked and rubbed as gently as he could, and Viggo groaned.
“That’s it, baby,” Viggo encouraged. “Just a little more lube and you can get a second finger in, okay?”
Elijah squirted another dollop of lube around the skin stretched around his finger and prodded carefully with a second. His eyes locked on the flex and stretch of Viggo’s hole as he accommodated the new stretch, and he couldn’t look away.
“Christ… this is so fucking… obscene,” Elijah murmured, his voice awed as he scissored and curled his fingers.
Viggo smiled and looked over his shoulder, pressing his arse backwards as he did so. “I’m about ready,” he informed Elijah in a rough whisper as Elijah twisted both fingers at once and then flicked hard at Viggo’s prostate.
“Thank fuck,” Elijah muttered, slicking his cock up liberally with lube both to give Viggo the extra help and to avoid an amount of friction that would make this end before it had really begun. “You good?” he asked, sliding his fingers out and groaning at the way he could feel Viggo’s muscles contracting again as his fingertips slid past.
“Yeah, come on, Elijah, fuck me,” Viggo muttered, widening his stance and pushing his arse back, his weight braced on his elbows.
Elijah grinned and spread Viggo’s arse open with his thumbs, lining up at what he judged to be the best angle and then sliding in slowly, tilting his hips a bit to make the last few inches. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered when he was fully inside, his pubic hairs rasping against the top of Viggo’s crack and his balls slapping below. He had to take a moment to steady himself, adjusting to the incredible tightness and heat as he took in the taut muscles of Viggo’s back, covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He placed his hands on Viggo’s hips to steady him, and noticed that his fingers were trembling.
“Now, Elijah. Please, move,” Viggo begged, and Elijah groaned, forgetting caution, forgetting how long it had been for Viggo, as his hips snapped out and then back into that unforgiving heat. He groaned loudly, his rhythm picking up of it’s own accord, and pressed open mouthed kisses to Viggo’s neck and upper back, reaching underneath to cup Viggo’s balls and then slide his hand slowly over Viggo’s cock, in a counterpoint to his sharp thrusts.
“Jesus,” Elijah groaned, not sure how much longer he would last. “Are you okay, do you…?”
“Yeah, baby, come on, come for me, go ahead,” Viggo urged. Elijah wanted to wait, but didn’t have a chance at those words, and came with a loud cry, depositing his seed deep in Viggo’s arse.
“Fuck,” he muttered, unable to move for a moment. When he finally did pull out, his softened cock slipped from between Viggo’s cheeks with a pop, and Elijah could see a slight trickle of clear fluid down the inside of one of Viggo’s thighs. “Holy shit, that’s hot,” he muttered, dropping to his knees to inspect the situation more thoroughly. “Dirty, but fucking hot,” he clarified, and Viggo groaned, humping air.
“Damnit, Elijah, please,” he moaned, and Elijah grinned, scooting on his knees to Viggo’s front, getting a good grip on both thighs as he moved in, his head skimming the underside of the table, to suck him. Elijah could smell his own release as it gathered on Viggo’s balls and trickled down his skin, and he groaned around Viggo’s cock, achieving a quick release for the older man, who thrust a few times down Elijah’s throat and then gave in, come flowing down Elijah’s throat before he pulled away with a cheeky grin and emerged from the table.
“Not bad, old man.”
“I’ll tell you who you’re calling old man,” Viggo mumbled in a threatening tone, but Elijah just laughed, seeing how his lover was bent over with his head on his folded arms, not looking capable of much anytime soon.
“I’ll take a raincheck,” Elijah murmured fondly, dropping a kiss to Viggo’s shoulder.