Heaven is a place on earth with you, tell me all the things you want to do

[canbenothing]

He waited two weeks. Two weeks since the fucking farce at the premiere of Sean's The Odyssey, when he has brought his 'boyfriend', both of them with matching rings and holding hands, Sean's head ducked down and Mortensen's eyes flashing, defiant, daring people to comment, to insult. That pictures and the video of their brief kiss was one of the hottest materials in town, simply because they were both actors. Both A-listers, an Oscar winner and a two-time nominee, both married men with children. The uproar was tremendous.

Christian had been watching every single second of it.

And he had been waiting for Sean to call even as the reporters and the tabloids scramble at him to get a comment, a quotable quote- what did he think of the new development, what was his opinion, how should David be watched and looked at given what was now known about Sean Bean? Had his opinion of his costar change? What about the rumours, the jokes they made what seemed eons ago- that he had been sleeping with Bean since 2002, since Equilibrium?

His team had been fending them off so far, because Christian refused to say a single word until Sean decided to talk to him. It's a good thing that he's filming right now, and filming with a director who knew him and was used to him. Christian had been walking around the set with a barely-controlled temper, and it was a damn, damn good thing that Sibi and Emmeline weren't here, because the last thing he ever wanted to do is to fly off the handle at them. Not when they didn't deserve a single whit of it.

No, the anger was all for Sean. Christian hated being replaced; hated being forgotten. And that was what happened to him over the past two years or so, wasn't it? Since the Oscars. Since Viggo goddamn fucking Mortensen had stepped in next to Sean and taken the place that Christian should have. Sean's was Christian's; he owned him, possessed him, claimed him and Sean had wanted it and accepted it- and now this. This, and without a word to him. Not a single word, not even when Sean wouldn't have that Oscar if not for Christian forcing the director to accept him as Lucas Shaw; not even when if not for Christian, Sean wouldn't even have the chance to reconnect with Mortensen because they wouldn't have been at the same place.

Christian's list of grievances were long, and he was so angry that even his team was starting to avoid him. Surely Julie contacted Sibi about it, and Sibi spoke to Sean somehow- why the hell else would Sean contact him? Christian had been forgotten and replaced, hadn't he? Why would Sean even bother with him, nowadays? Why would he want to meet?

It was a good thing they're not meeting anywhere public, instead choosing a hotel room, one of the many anonymous, discreet little places littered around LA. Christian wouldn't like having to restrain himself. He wanted to remind Sean of the claim he made, because even if Sean has forgotten, even if Sean has been completely swept up by Viggo Fucking Mortensen, Christian still remembered .

And it wasn't going to be easy to make him forget.

Comments

[honestlyyours]

Oh, this was Richard Sharpe alright, Viggo thought. Richard Sharpe and Doctor Merrick and Eddard Stark and all the leaders that Sean had played. Even Boromir, but Boromir would not look at his king this way, and Viggo felt nothing like Aragorn here. Here, in this room with Sean rocking against his back, his erection sliding up and down his cleft through his clothes as a way of pushing him forward. Here, stumbling as he walked, with Christian right in front of him, and Sean's voice in his ears, dirty and absolutely filthy and everything that Viggo had never known he wanted so damn badly that he could barely breathe.

He lidded his eyes and fell. He let himself be caught by Sean, and fell right onto his knees. Another way he wasn't at all like Aragorn right now. The King of Men could not kneel, but Viggo was no king. He was beholden to no one, not even to a sense of pride, and he sat back on his haunches and watched Christian through lidded eyes, and tried not to smell.

Christian turned around, and Viggo watched. Watched his back and the curves of his body, all the way down to his hips, his ass. Viggo had never looked at him like this before. He had never wanted to notice. But now he was- he was, and he wondered faintly if this was some sort of revenge for how much he had tried to control the both of them through the phone. If it was- Viggo really should do it more often. If they could. If either of them wanted to. Such concerns were irritating right now.

"I'll have to see," he said, and Christian smirked at him as he faced the two of them again. Spreading his legs slowly, deliberately, he fell back and let the seat catch him. His thighs hooked over the arms of the chair, and Viggo was still a distance away. He only smirked, placed a single hand on the ground. Then another hand. Another. He crawled towards Christian, pressing his mouth against his knee, tasting the smooth, cool cotton of his trackpants. Viggo scraped his teeth against it, and his hand curled around the back of the knee.

Christian's hand slipped into his hair. It was a little larger than Sean's, and Viggo followed directions. He let his mouth move upwards, parting, curving around Christian's erection through those trackpants. His fingers reached up, hooking around the waistband. Viggo stopped. His eyes were fixed upon Christian's, and Christian slowly, slowly smiled.

Viggo pulled down the pants. There was no underwear - of course. He looked, and when he spoke, his eyes were fixed on Christian, though his words turned to Sean.

"Almost exactly," he said, and it was a lover's murmur too. Full of secrets and secretive smiles hidden in the corners. "Long and straight, a little less thick than yours." He darted his tongue out, licking at the slit. "Though, he tastes... different."

Christian's hand tightened, and his smile was sharp. "Come here, Sean," he said, and it was like a General's command. A general with another man between his legs, mouth open to suck him in. "Leave your pants. Let Viggo taste the difference between us."

Viggo drew in a long, sharp breath. His hand almost shook. He clawed at the carpet underneath his knees.

Goddamn. Another breath. Viggo turned his head, and found Sean's us.

"Please."

[somethingleft]

"Sweet bloody jesus," he murmured, and that was only at the sight of Christian draping himself over the chair like some supine General, his legs wide, his erection clearly visible in his soft sweatpants. Sean wet his lips anxiously and stepped after Viggo as he crawled forward, wanting to be close when the other man reached Christian, and he wasn't let down either.

Viggo was a bold and generous lover - and his inventiveness was on a different scale to Christian's - but Sean had rarely seen him put all of himself into it like this, so boldly throwing himself into the act. The first time they'd had sex it had been wary, careful, as they drew up their boundaries around each other, but here Viggo was flicking his tongue devilishly against the very tip of his other lover's cock, unflinchingly falling to the act, and barely thirty seconds in through the door.

He hadn't even asked how the flight had been.

There was a balance being struck here. Sean had wanted control, but then Christian had taken it from here with a single note in his voice, and an order. Several orders, and Major Sharpe knew how to take orders. In a matter of seconds Christian had taken the leading role, the role of the General in this little play, and there was nothing Sharpe or Sean could do about it but go along.

"Yes, sir."

His own carefully pressed trousers couldn't have come off any faster, and the underwear he wore with them, but the neat black socks stayed on as he padded closer, and he worked the look better than most men might, but it was still an awkward look. He stepped closer still, brought his hand down to Viggo's hair, and stroked the back of Christian's hand where it was knotted in the feather light strands.

If Viggo was begging already they were all bloody doomed.

"You heard Lord Bale, Viggo," he breathed softly, and his shirt tails could barely hide his prominent arousal. "You know what to do."

[canbenothing]

Christian needed control, and he was more than a little relieved that Viggo didn't know him well enough that his tight grip on his hair was a sign of how out of his depth he felt. He had never- there was no one other than his wife and Sean who had ever had sex with him while he was being Christian himself. This wasn't entirely himself- perhaps an exaggeration. Perhaps Bruce Wayne playing a role, or even Quinn, or John Connor, or even with the hints of Preston. Everything at once to make himself not him, because he felt vulnerable enough already.

Strange, because he was the man giving orders while Viggo was on his knees. But Viggo's eyes were confident, and there was nothing in his voice that wavered. There was no hesitation in his actions - he was doing everything that he wanted and he could, and he knew that none of it could affect him adversely. That he could leave and stop whenever he could. There was a strange, strong sort of self-confidence here that strange Christian's breath in his own throat, because he couldn't imagine having such a thing.

Lord Bale, Sean said, and Christian wondered if he knew what he was doing, placing him at such a high place as this. Most likely. Sean had never needed him to say anything to know what exactly he needed, and every single time he did that Christian was reminded how much he needed him. How much he loved this man. God. They didn't even talk about that, did they? They had to, at some point. Especially with Viggo here.

But not now. Now-

Even as Viggo was leaning forward, spreading callused-hands against Sean's thighs, Christian was leaning forward, grabbing Sean by his tie (why the fuck was he wearing a tie in a hotel room, he had no idea) and pulling him down for a long, deep kiss. He slid his hand into Sean's hair, his eyes flickering down to watch Viggo. And Viggo was proving himself worth watching, practically unhinging his jaw as he took Sean's cock into his mouth until his nose was buried into Sean's pubic curls. And Christian's breath came a little faster, a little sharper, as he watched the two of them. Viggo's hands were still handcuffed, tied together and resting on the small of his back, and Christian's cock throbbed at the want to feel his hands on them.

No. No, it's better this hand, to have Viggo's hands still bound. He licked his lips.

"You have no idea," Christian murmured, and he pulled away from Sean's mouth, following the line of his jaw down to his neck. He dragged his teeth and lips against the skin, wet with saliva and heat, his fingers unknotting the tie and slowly peeling the clothes away from Sean's skin. "No fucking idea what you do to me." A shuddering breath as he slid the tie off and dropped it to the ground. "To us."

Viggo hummed his agreement. He was definitely listening, and Christian broke off into a sharp gasp as he felt teeth against his inner thigh. Viggo's eyes were bright and blue, lips curled up into a smirk as he tongued against the juncture between Christian's hip and thigh, licking upwards and barely rising up to his knees. There was something in that smile- something secret that made Christian think that despite being on his knees, Viggo knew that he still had control of this. It made him moan quietly, breath skittering against Sean's skin even as he reached down. Grabbed Viggo by the jaw and saw him open his mouth obligingly, and nudged him towards Sean's cock. Viggo obeyed immediarely, but Christian watched the small, involuntary flex of his arms. Like he was trying to reach out to him.

Another breath. Christian was so hard that he practically shook, but he steadied his voice. "There's no one else who can have this but you," he said, catching Sean's eyes with his own as he pulled the jacket and shirt off. "No one else."

[somethingleft]

There was nothing that made it clear just how much Viggo was affecting him than the sudden catching of Sean's breath in his throat mid-kiss, because Christian's tongue was wrapped around his, and Viggo's tongue was wrapping around something else of his, and it all came together in a glorious moment when the two tongues moved together, and they could have been from the very same mouth, and Sean gasped, and Christian took advantage, and the world crumbled around him into one of absolute sensation and little more.

There was nothing - nothing - that could feel as good as this. The kiss was passionate, bruising, and Sean couldn't draw free until Christian was satisfied; Christian who moved from the lips to the neck, and kissed down in such a way that made him buck instinctively forward, and that was just from the kiss. Viggo seemed to take it well, though Sean was instantly apologetic, but the words died in his mouth as Christian spoke. As Viggo purred his agreement, and then slid quietly away to move over to Christian again.

Sean dared a glance down to the peppered, mousy brown hair that whispered its way up along Christian's thigh, watched in disbelief as Christian reached out to correct him, turning Viggo back into him, making him swallow him down, and he shuddered and almost lost motor function then and there. Standing upright under this onslaught was almost impossible. Viggo was on his knees, Christian had the chair, and only one of them had the arms to catch him if he swooned.

Better safe than sorry, he sunk down onto Christian's knee instead, and leant down to brush another kiss to him, rolling his arms back to let Christian push off his shirt and jacket; the tie was long gone.

"Then it were lucky," he breathed. "That I had that fall, and did acting rather than footie."

[honestlyyours]

Christian hissed out a small breath at the weight on his thigh, and Viggo shifted slightly, tilting his head to let Sean sit on his knee. It was a good thing that Christian had a tendency to be ridiculously strong and built, Viggo thought, and his lips curved up slightly in amusement even as he continued to swallow around Sean's cock, and he wished that his hands were free again. Wanted to lick his own finger next to Sean's cock, and press it inside him, feeling his heat and tightness and knowing that Christian had most likely fucked him in the morning. He wondered if Sean was still wet from it; if he was loose enough for Viggo's fingers to slip inside and finger-fuck him until he comes down his throat.

He tugged a little harder at the handcuffs. They were metal instead of leather, and he knew that he would be scraping his skin against it if he tugged harder. Viggo hummed under his breath and stopped fighting against it, letting himself be guided patiently. He had waited during the flight; waited for the plane itself for come in... Viggo had always been patient, and he could stave off his own desire and need for even longer than this and lavish attention on Sean. On Sean, who deserved all of it, and all.

Pulling back slightly, he pulled himself off of Sean, letting him slip from his mouth. Then, he dropped back to his haunches, opening his mouth and kissed against his knee, then turned his head and nuzzled against the side of it. Lifting his eyes upwards and smiling at him with love and affection shining from his eyes, and kissed against his knee again, gently.

He hadn't said a proper word until now because he had seen the feverish light in Christian's eyes; knew what he needed. That he felt as if he was completely in over his head, and was trying to not show it. Viggo didn't blame him - he was the one who didn't know the situation; didn't know Viggo and Sean's relationship while Viggo knew as much as it was possible to know about Christian and Sean's. Sean had never told him anything about it, but Viggo knew him; had known him for years as a friend, and he could make his own guesses. Which were slowly being proven right with every single look he had taken of Christian; with every word that had came out of this man's mouth.

He could see why Sean was so captivated. If Viggo had met Christian first - Christian instead of Edward Rosier - then he might be more taken with him than Sean. It was possible, before. But now. But-

"I can't imagine not having met you," he said, breaking the silence as he nuzzled against Sean even more. He could see from his peripheral vision that Christian was kissing Sean again, but he knew that Sean was listening. "You've been a part of me for so long, even though I've only had the courage so late." His eyes flickered upwards, and caught Christian's eyes.

And Christian replied without a word, reaching out and cupping the back of Viggo's neck. He tugged him upwards and Viggo followed the motion, and he opened his mouth as Christian kissed him. Kissed him softly, exploratory, molding their lips together even as his hand started stroking against Viggo's hair, letting the salt-and-pepper run through his fingers.

"You taste of him," Christian murmured, and Viggo laughed softly into his mouth, leaning in further and darting his tongue inside. And Christian made a small sound, almost a protest, but his hand tightened against Viggo's hair, crushing their mouths together and taking over- and Viggo let him. Opened his mouth and let him plunder his own mouth; let him taste every single corner and to lick out the taste of Sean from him. And when Christian let him go to breathe, Viggo turned his head and licked against the tendons standing out against his wrist, and Christian stroked against his cheek with his knuckles before Viggo turned even more and kissed Sean.

Kissed him, nipping at his lips to open them, as he felt Christian's fingers dance down his own hips to pull off his own pants.

[somethingleft]

Sean was enjoying just watching them kiss; he could have stayed here all day and just watched that, watched Christian and Viggo melt into each other with wet lips and exploring fingers through soft hair that up until now only he had touched, could have stayed and watched it all and never been bored, never need to come, because there was a different kind of pleasure that he felt, a contentment, a happiness that was undeniable.

When Viggo turned to kiss him, Sean bore it for only a second or two, letting Viggo's teeth graze his lip but slipping back out of reach before he could do much more.

"I think it's time to get you outta those cuffs," he purred, reaching forn for Viggo's arm and heaving the other man up onto Christian's other knee, giving Christian a reprimanding look for even thinking about complaining - which Sean knew he was - and taking the key out of his pocket in order to reach around and unlock Viggo. He tossed the cuffs and the key aside backhandedly, without letting go of Viggo's wrists, and then carefully reached both arms around him, guiding Viggo's hands to where he wanted them, and not where Viggo wanted them to be.

His right went around Christian's waist to help keep his balance. The left went to the center of Christian's chest, and Sean looped his arm around Christian too, his other hand still over the back of Viggo's, guiding both down to the other man's waist. Christian's slacks were still crumpled around his knees, so Sean curled both his and Viggo's hand firmly around Christian's erection, and from there found Christian's eyes again.

"Much better."

He grinned.

[canbenothing]

Christian made a soft little noise, an oof when he Viggo landed on him, and his hand immediately went up to steady him, palm flattening up against his back. It was a good thing that he had already gotten Viggo's pants off, and now he kicked them off with the little movement he had left on his feet. They were heavy men, but he took one look at Sean and clapped his mouth shut at the complaint that was hovering at the edge of his lips. He swallowed it back and signed instead, his lips quirking upwards- a little amused at Sean's actions.

Then he gasped, his head thrown back against his cushions as his hips thrust upwards into those joined hands. Eyes lidded, he couldn't see who leaned in to kiss him- but he knew Sean's taste, and he had an inkling as to what Viggo tasted like, and he opened his mouth to Viggo's tongue, his breath speeding up as he felt callused, paint-stained hands in his hand, cupping the back of his head and pulling him forward.

When did this become about him? When did the two of them decided to focus on him- instead of Sean, as it should be? Christian took a shaking breath through his teeth as Viggo broke the kiss, and he opened his eyes to see the briefest smirk on the other man's lips before Viggo ducked down his head and started kissing against his neck, one hand dancing down his side.

"As Sean commands," Viggo said, and there was humour in his voice. Humour and anticipation, his teeth grazing against Christian's throat. And Christian's breath hitched, all of the sudden, because this wasn't a man he trusted, and he had his teeth so close to his windpipe that his head spun from the sudden roar of his heartbeat. He focused his eyes, reaching up and carded his hand through Viggo's hair before grabbing onto the strands, pulling his head back up.

"Keep talking," he said, and his voice was almost nothing but a growl. "You promised sonnets, Mortensen," he smirked at the use of the last name, his finger reaching up to trace a deep-set wrinkle, from the side of Viggo's eye to his jaw. "I haven't heard anything yet."

"That's for Sean to choose," Viggo said, and he tilted his head up, drawing Christian's finger between his own lips to nip against the skin. His eyes flickered to Sean, but Christian wasn't looking anymore. He was rocking his hips up gently - as much as he could when pinned down by two full-grown men - and his eyes were fixed upon Sean.

A sonnet. Any one of them. There were plenty, Christian thought, that would fit way too well.

[somethingleft]

The two of them could give him everything in the world he wanted; that was the truth. Sean was overwhelmed by the wealth that he possessed, honestly believing that at any moment he would mess up and lose it just like he had with all of his other relationships, but no matter what these men had stayed with him--and there had been tough times, really tough times. There was no love in his heart greater than the love he had for them both, and that was why they were still together even now; it was how he had weathered this whole thing with Viggo and the press, exposing the deepest part of himself to people who only ever saw what the paparazzi and journalists published about him, that couldn't understand the heart of him. He had hurt, and struggled, and now there was this, and it was more beautiful than he had ever imagined he deserved. He imagined it should fall apart, because it was like a dream, Christian and Viggo both, and neither of them insisting that he go without the other.

He was so distracted by how lucky he was, just caught in the spell of watching them, that he almost didn't know what they were talking about when they looked back up at him. He blinked back in startled confusion. Choose? Choose what? His mind had been elsewhere, and he strained to work out what they'd just been talking about. Fortunately it looked like he was thinking about sonnet numbers, because when he finally realised what it was he'd been asked, he let out a sharp laugh, looked back down to Viggo and then laughed again.

A sonnet. Of course he was asking for a bloody sonnet. And when his mind was so far outside of his head that he wasn't sure he'd know one if it bit him in the ass. He looked up at the cracked ceiling, as though in prayer or mere exhasperation, then dropped his eyes back to Christian.

"The one that's about the fella in love," he challenged, because most of them were, and he was just being damned cheeky.

[honestlyyours]

Viggo snorted quietly at the answer, because it was just like Sean. To give a cheeky answer that was no answer at all when he was at a loss of words instead of saying that his mind had been wandering elsewhere. Viggo's eyes flickered to Christian, and Christian shrugged. He was to do what he liked, and Viggo leaned in, brushing his lips against the side of Sean's mouth, slowly kissing against him u to his hairline, then down back again down his neck.

When he spoke, it was a particularly apt sonnet. It had lingered in his head since the plane ride, when he had brought his battered and scribbled book of sonnets with him to read.

"O truant Muse what shall be thy amends," he murmured against Sean's neck, nipping against the strong tendon there even as he moved his lips down gently. "For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?"

His fingers danced down Sean's spine, and he turned to look at Christian again. There was no recognition in those eyes - this wasn't a sonnet that Christian knew. That was fine; it was one that was rather obscure, to be honest, especially in comparison to the one he had chosen before. That was fine- Christian was trying to peel himself away, shooting him a look. Viggo nodded, and slid off his thigh, putting his hands on Sean's hips. He kept talking, distracting him even as he licked gently against one nipple then the other.

"Both truth and beauty on my love depends; So dost thou too, and therein dignified." He chuckled lightly, and leaned in to draw one nipple between his teeth. At the same time, he closed his fingers over Sean's hips. Christian's fingers closed over his own, and the two of them lifted Sean up a little - like he was a doll - and placed him on the arm of the chair.

Christian leaned in and kissed the side of his throat as Viggo recited the next line: "Make answer Muse: wilt thou not haply say,
'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fixed; Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay; But best is best, if never intermixed'?" Viggo's finger dragged down Sean's leg, and Christian was already pulling himself back and padding off towards the bathroom. What for? Supplies, most likely. Toys, maybe. Viggo continued, moving down Sean's chest as he kept speaking. He licked against that little dip of the sternum.

"Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?" Viggo lifted his eyes, and pressed his tongue against Sean's lips. Seeking entrance as his fingers walked down his side. Christian reappeared again, this time behind Sean.

"Excuse not silence so, for't lies in thee / To make him much outlive a gilded tomb / And to be praised of ages yet to be," his breath had sped up, because there was lube on the floor with a row of condoms, and Christian's fingers seemed to have disappeared inside Sean. Viggo smiled, his lips parting against Sean's thigh, licking against the skin and humming quietly against the junction.

When he spoke, he made sure his breath gust over Sean's cock. "Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how / To make him seem, long hence, as he shows now."

Three fingers now, Viggo was sure. Christian had three fingers in Sean now, and Viggo wondered if that was enough. Enough for Christian, perhaps. But- for them both?

Perhaps.