Dutch Courage

by Vivi

The night was just getting to the prickly stage of cool and Viggo was grateful for the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders. He wasn't so far from the fire that he couldn't hear the soft clink of bottles or the occasional muffled burst of laughter but any heat it gave off was only for those crammed around it.

The only people still up were the ones without a four am call who'd decided to camp out with them on a whim rather than any sort of necessity, and they were the ones who had consumed the bulk of a truly impressive amount of beer. They were still going, but not very strongly now and he suspected some of the shadowy outlines surrounding the fire were sleeping.

Rather like he should be.

Somehow, as tired as he was though, he couldn't seem to settle enough to fall asleep. It wasn't the noise from the others; he'd learned years ago how to sleep through any amount of partying, and they had considerately kept the roar fairly low. The stars were too fascinating, amidst the soft quiet that spoke of the early morning hour despite the murmurs of the fire children over there. Sleeping seemed like it would be to reject this gift and he resigned himself instead to a tired day tomorrow. It would be a short session, anyway; he could nap that afternoon.

"And here is the king of the forest!" The jovial burst of voice so close to him nearly startled Viggo out of his blanket. How Sean had managed to get so close to him without him hearing was a mystery, considering how distinctly unsteady he looked. He gave Viggo a bright smile and said, "Hiding away and watching his subjects benevolently, eh?"

"Idiot," Viggo said, not unkindly. "Sit down before you fall down."

Sean drew himself up to his full height, a perfect picture of wounded dignity. "I haven't fallen down drunk once in me whole life. Not about to do it now." With something close to stumbling grace, he managed to settle carefully next to Viggo without so much as a wobble.

Viggo chuckled softly. "You shouldn't be roaming around. What if you got lost?"

"Unlike you, I am not prone to getting lost," Sean told him loftily, taking a deep swallow from the mostly full bottle still in his hand. "And you hadn't even had a drink that night. B'sides, I'm not on call tomorrow, and they'd find me eventually."

There wasn't much of a way to defend his honor from that except for one. "Fuck you."

Sean gave him an odd, considering look. "All right, then."

"Hey!" Viggo sputtered, abruptly finding himself blanketless, but Sean-filled as Sean clambered over him and he had a sudden lapful of warm, beer-scented man. He hissed as the bottle pressed icy-cold against his neck for a second, before it slipped from Sean's fingers and rolled away. They both watched it go, Sean's expression mournful before he shrugged and busied himself with tugging up Viggo's shirt.

"What the hell are you doing?" Viggo was trying not to laugh, fighting Sean's surprisingly agile fingers as they tickled lightly over his chest, trying to pull his shirt over his head.

"You said I could fuck you."

He did laugh that time, shaking his head and then gasping as Sean dipped his head and caught his earlobe between his teeth, biting gently. "I think...I think I would remember saying that."

"Too bad. I heard it and that's all that matters, eh?"

This was getting a little more serious by the second; Sean's hands fumbling at his belt and Viggo caught his wrists and held them, hard, looking at him with narrowed eyes. Sean met his gaze easily, eyes owlishly wide and nearly crossed by the time he leaned in to kiss Viggo sweetly on the nose. "This is terribly convenient," Viggo informed him suspiciously. "What, does being drunk turn you gay or something?"

"P'rhaps. That's what I'm going to tell meself tomorrow." He pulled his hands from Viggo's loosened grip and slid them both into the narrow space at the front of Viggo's pants, warm and a little clumsy but more than enthusiastic enough to make up for it as they cupped Viggo's cock and balls gently, his thumbs stroking over the shaft.

Viggo shuddered, closing his eyes and what the fuck? This was almost too strange to be believed and if he wasn't so sure of Sean's weight on his thighs, of his breath, hot and shaky against his neck, he'd think he was dreaming. "Sean, I don't..." he started weakly, biting the tip of his tongue as Sean's fingertips found the head of his cock, circling tentatively.

"Aren't you my friend?" Something plaintive in Sean's voice and his lips brushed Viggo's cheek in a feather-light kiss.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Then just be friendly-like for a bit, yeah?"

Like he could do anything else? His own hands had caught Sean's hips at some point, very much without his permission and he was trying to hunch up into those too-light touches against his cock, and fuck, fuck, fuck, this hadn't been on the agenda today. Or ever, really, Sean sprawled across his lap, lips trembling lightly against Viggo's as he whispered, "Is it MY fault you're so fucking sexy?"

Viggo laughed shakily, biting it off before it could turn into a groan. "I'm not entirely sure it's my fault either. I don't try to be."

"Course you do." Sean was laughing at him, he could hear it in his voice, but it didn't seem to matter as finally, finally, Sean kissed him, sweet and tentative and tasting cleanly of beer. It suddenly occurred to him that while Sean was being 'friendly-like', as he'd put it, he wasn't exactly returning the favor.

Well, he had said they were friends. He managed to open Sean's fly much faster than Sean had on him, his own fingers not alcohol-numbed as he tugged them down enough to reach inside and wrap his hand around Sean's, not-surprisingly, very eager erection.

"Oh!" A soft, startled puff of air against his lips and Sean's hands stilled in shock as Viggo started jerk him off, not bothering with anything remotely like teasing. "Oh, that's..." Sean pressed his forehead against Viggo's and shuddered, rocking his hips forward and sliding into Viggo's loose grip.

"You aren't being very friendly," Viggo teased, wriggling his own hips and Sean took his hint, stroking him much harder now and that was a touch of pure bliss. A large, warm hand that wasn't his own gifting him with a proper handjob. There were a few advantages a man had over a woman; larger hands and first-hand knowledge of how to jerk someone off.

It had been years since he'd felt it though, years upon years, and Sean was starting to gasp, his breath hitching through the soft, wet sounds of their hands moving in mutual rhythm, and Viggo wrapped his free arm around Sean's neck, reeling him in and kissing him hard. Sean's lips parted as he came, hot spurts into Viggo's palm and that was just perfect, tasting the slick heat of Sean's tongue against his own as he came, moaning into Sean's mouth as he gave it up too, coming harder than he would have expected but Sean smelled and tasted so good and the slippery weight of his hand was nothing but heaven.

When he finally blinked and saw reality again, Sean was slumped over him, breathing heavily and trembling. Hesitantly, Viggo rubbed the small of his back with his clean hand, trying to soothe him, distantly hoping that later a more sober Sean wouldn't decide this was all his fault and try to regain his manliness through a good thrashing. More likely and infinitely more painful to consider was that Sean might never speak to him again, and fuck, what had he been thinking, letting Sean do this? He was the sober one, he should have given Sean a shove towards the fire and pretended tomorrow that he didn't have a glimmer of a memory of being hit on. So stupid, so fucking stupid....

"That was brilliant," Sean sighed, deeply satisfied, and he kissed Viggo loudly and wetly on the mouth before sliding down and snuggling into his lap. A little nonplussed, Viggo slid his fingers into Sean's hair, petting gently and getting a happy murmur in reply. It was a bare minute later that a soft snore floated up to greet him.

Viggo stared at his filled lap with pursed lips before shrugging and snagging the blanket again. He settled it over both of them, grimacing at the decidedly moist state of his pants before indulging himself with petting Sean's hair again. If he was going to get a bloody nose in the morning, he might as well enjoy this while he could.

He hoped Sean would think of the movie before he hit him though. Damned hard to cover up two black eyes, even with the best of makeup.

~~*~~

As he was being pulled from what felt like far too little sleep, Viggo was slowly becoming aware of two things. The first thing was that someone was shaking his shoulder, gently, and the other was that his ass was freezing.

He speculated briefly about how he might change both of those things without actually moving, but apparently he hadn't evolved any telekinesis while he slept. Mourning the lack of it wasn't going to stop the evil shoulder-shaker and that was infinitely more annoying than a cold butt, so Viggo opened one eye the bare minimum he could and glared up at his nemesis.

It turned out to be Orlando, who was smirking at him and appeared unimpressed by his glare. It took another drowsy minute for him to understand why Orlando would be waking him up. The early morning shoot, the campout, right, but Orli needed to be in makeup before he did so apparently he just felt like being an asshole this morning. He proved it by jerked his head in the direction of the makeup trailer and when Viggo opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off, Orlando pressed a finger against his lips to hush him before pointing that same finger at the ground next to him.

Still more than a little tired and nearly the same amount grumpy, Viggo followed the line of Orli's finger to see Sean, still sound asleep and with at least twice as much of the blanket as he needed, which explained why Viggo was so damned cold. He slept like a rock; Viggo could barely hear him breathing, but he was snuggled so tightly in the blanket it was frankly adorable and Viggo couldn't help a sleepy smile, even if the bastard has stolen half...the...

Sean was sleeping next to him and suddenly he remembered everything, maybe even too much because a memory of that soft little cry Sean had made when he came snapped into place with perfect clarity. The piss hard-on he'd woken with jerked happily at the thought, and Christ, hadn't they even fastened their pants?

A quick feel indicated that they had not and Viggo groaned silently, glaring at Orlando, who only raised one elegant eyebrow. Of all people to find them like this, it had to be Orlando. At least he could count on Orli to keep his mouth shut, to everyone else anyway. He and Sean could count on at least a handful of coy looks and teasing comments.

It might be a good idea to warn him about not teasing Sean until they puzzled this out. Elves should never have black eyes.

As carefully as possible, Viggo crept out of the blanket, feeling sore and somewhat damp from sleeping on the ground. He'd barely escaped when Sean immediately buried himself in the rest of the blanket so that hardly more than his face and a few tufts of blond were showing.

Still dazed with sleep, Viggo rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and looked around at the brightly colored tents dotting the landscape. There were a few other people not in tents as well, little bundles of nylon sleeping bag that he presumed contained humans, or something close to it anyway. He'd brought one himself; sleeping on the cold ground with nothing but a blanket hadn't been on the agenda last night, but neither had Sean jumping him, so he wasn't going to complain too much.

Everyone else seemed far enough away not to have noticed a Sean-and-Viggo bundle sleeping together. He hoped. His pants chose that moment to remind him that they were very much not fastened and he scrabbled to catch them before they went further down than mid-thigh.

Viggo ignored Orlando's smirk as he quickly fastened his pants before Orli got any more of a free show. A glance at his watch made him wince; apparently Orlando wasn't just being an asshole and he knew they had to hurry or they wouldn't be out of makeup in time. And yet, he couldn't help another glance at Sean, so relaxed and warm and sexy as all hell, and he was probably going to kill him when he woke up. Or knowing Sean, he'd be wanting to kill himself.

It was even more likely that Sean would simply pretend nothing had even happened. Somehow that thought stung worse than his mental bloody nose, even though he'd played that game himself from time to time. He just didn't want to play it with Sean and was too damned tired to think much about the whys. Just be friendly-like, Sean had said the night before and he rather found he was wishing they'd be that version of friendly-like again.

A few steps away, Orlando was bouncing on his toes, waiting impatiently, but there was no one else nearby who wasn't probably more unconscious than asleep. Temptation was the word for Sean's sleeping face and Viggo found it had no urge to resist it, just in case Sean woke up ashamed and he never had this chance again.

Dropping silently to his knees, Viggo leaned over Sean and kissed him as gently as he could. Warm, drowsy lips caressed his own as Sean sighed into his mouth, his breath sour with beer and sleep, and Viggo savored it as long as he could before he began to fear that Sean would wake up and give him that bloody nose yet. Regretfully, he pulled back and pressed a last kiss against Sean's forehead, tucking the blanket more securely around him so that the cold morning air wouldn't seep inside the warm cocoon Sean had made of it.

"About time," Orlando muttered and pursed his lips in a mock kiss when Viggo flipped him off. He turned towards the trailers that were down the hill but Viggo caught his arm before he could move and pulled him around to face him.

"Not. One. Word." Viggo mouthed, "Not to anyone."

Orlando gave him his most innocent look, pressing a hand against his chest. Who, me?

"Please." Viggo nearly winced at the sincere plea in his voice, but he saw the reaction in Orli's eyes before he nodded soberly.

"Come on, we're late," Orli whispered, and they crept away as silently as they could, leaving Sean blissfully asleep and unaware beneath the trees.

~~*~~

If anyone had told Viggo he'd ever be wishing for a bloody nose, he'd have thought they were in serious need of changing their medication. As it was, he was starting to think wistful thoughts of Tylenol to stave off the headache he knew he was getting from lack of sleep, and it was only ten o'clock. He was feeling every minute of his age today and ruefully decided that all-nighters were getting a little beyond him, especially ones like last night.

The morning shoot had gone well, only eight takes to satisfy Pete, and he was done for the day. Instead of leaving, like he should, he was watching the crew gathering up all the set pieces and waiting for them to evict him from his chair. He seemed to be safe for the moment so he just smoked quietly and watched, and he thought briefly of Sean, wondering where he was.

Stupid, really. Sean hadn't been in the scene this morning and he'd probably gone home to get some real sleep that didn't involve waking up covered in dew. It sounded like a decent plan and yet, here he still was, reluctant to leave this little glade too soon. WETA would be done soon enough, and then he could go back to the normal world. Yeah, it was stupid but he'd never shied from that lane of the highway before. No reason to start now.

The sun was just high enough that it was starting to filter in, almost too warm and Viggo closed his eyes lazily, enjoying it.

"Have a light?"

He wasn't as startled as he should have been to hear that voice and Viggo knew he'd been waiting all morning. Because they were friends and they were both too old for the games, maybe, and he opened his eyes to see Sean standing in front of him, an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers.

"Sure." Viggo's words were blurred around his own cigarette as he started to dig for his lighter but Sean waved it off and leaned down to touch the dark tip against Viggo's. Startled, Viggo could only watch, eyes nearly crossed as Sean inhaled deeply and the reddish glow leapt into his cigarette.

Sean straightened, didn't step back as he smoked with studious attention, looking at everything but Viggo and that was all right because Viggo thought he had his answer anyway and it wasn't one that included a bloody nose.

"Why don't we get out of here?" Viggo dared, softly, and if Sean didn't appreciate the hand resting lightly at the base of his spine, neither did he protest it.

"Sure." Sean shrugged, seeming nonchalant and his sudden smile made something in Viggo's chest ease a fraction. "I'm game."

You certainly are. Viggo didn't say it aloud, instead guiding Sean in the direction of their cars and the fact that Sean let him said something for him, though he wasn't quite sure what. Friendly-like, Sean had said. Might be interesting to see just how friendly he had in mind.


~~*~~

A beer before noon wasn't usually a good thing but it was still yesterday back home so Viggo didn't feel bad about it. He'd already drunk half of his before wandering back out of the kitchen to offer one to Sean. It got him a questioning look and a raised eyebrow as Sean accepted it.

Sprawling back on the sofa, Sean took his first swallow and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he asked, archly, "Trying for some dutch courage, Viggo?"

"And if I am?" Viggo took another long swallow of his beer, perfectly, blissfully cold. "It seemed to work for you."

It earned him a laugh and Sean saluted him with the bottle. "Here's to dutch courage, then."

"And friendship."

He got a warmer smile for that one. "Yeah. Can't forget that."

It only took one beer for them to be sitting on the sofa together. Well, Viggo was sitting; Sean was sprawled across it with his legs draped over Viggo's lap. Two and a half had Viggo stroking Sean's arm, feeling a little giddy and daring and by five he was drinking the beer out of Sean's mouth, sour and a little bitter and anywhere he tasted was the flavor of beer and the faint salt of skin. Just as well, anyone who'd ever eaten a pretzel knew salt and beer were meant for each other.

For all of Sean's forwardness the night before he seemed perfectly willing today to let Viggo do all the work, struggling to strip away the clothes between them and even the smug look in Sean's eyes couldn't dim his appreciation of the body beneath him. Sexy as all hell, and both of them were damp with splatters of beer, his sofa was going to reek of it and he could have cared less.

Viggo thought a dark promise in the direction of Sean's dick, almost unbearably tempted to just suck him off and feel Sean's hands in his hair while he fucked his mouth. Some part of his mind wasn't quite that drunk and shied away, his years of experimenting a fair distance behind him.

It was easier to urge Sean to roll over on his knees, surprisingly so when Sean didn't utter a word of protest, just rocked into position, and hell, if he'd known Sean was this much of a slut he might have said something earlier.

Not quite a fair thought, all things considered, and Viggo was glad he wasn't drunk enough to have said it aloud. They were friends, he'd said so himself and if he hadn't ever been on his knees behind his other friends, licking a breathless pattern against the hard, smooth skin of their hips, then he hadn't known what he was missing.

Sean's skin tasted of warm salt, the tang suddenly strange without the muted bitterness of beer, and before he'd thought about it too much, Viggo had fumbled for one of the bottles next to the sofa, slick glass beneath his fingertips and Sean yelped in protest when icy liquid splashed over his bare skin.

"You bastard, what the fuck are you..." Sean bit off the words on a sharp inhalation when Viggo started sucking it back up, chasing the flavor of it downward and slurping the little rivulets away. Down the natural curves and into the cleft of Sean's ass, and this he'd done before, time and time again on softer curves.

Coarse hair tickled his tongue as he licked softly at the dusky pucker of Sean's asshole and Sean nearly squirmed off the couch, a sound almost like a sob escaping him. He tasted hot and dark but nothing like beer and without thinking, Viggo pressed the cold lip of the bottle into the cleft, pushing it briefly hard against the tight opening.

Sean leapt hard, would have slithered away if Viggo hadn't caught him with his free hand and held tightly. "Don't you dare, don't, don't, don't!"

"I won't," Viggo promised hoarsely, nuzzling his way in again, tonguing the rim of the bottle where it rested against Sean and he felt a desperate shiver in response. It had to have been the craziest thing he'd ever done, pushing the bottle against Sean until he keened and then rewarding him with the touch of his tongue, back and forth until he was half-ready to push past Sean's protests and press the bottle inside so he could taste the skin stretched around the cool glass. Only Sean's gaspy protests stopped him and he finally tossed the bottle aside and positioned himself with shaky hands, wondering if this was what insanity felt like.

"Ohhh, fuck, oh, God, Jesus, Viggo," Muffled, obscene prayers falling from Sean's lips and the light in front of Viggo's eyes turned golden as he shoved inside, hard, and the burn of friction made him hiss, spit and beer about the worst lube outside of none at all. Sean made a soft, broken sound beneath him and spread his legs wider, inviting Viggo in and that was it, that was all he could take and not lose his mind, and Viggo was hammering in, putting all the force he could behind each thrust and this wasn't friendship, this wasn't even sex, this was fucking need, he needed this in a way he couldn't even dream about.

That Sean was moving just as frantically beneath him, writhing and shoving and just losing it was almost a gift, and Jesus, he'd never be able to sit on this sofa again and not remember how tight Sean was, how good, how fucking hot this was when it wasn't friendship at all, like this wasn't just coming, not just an orgasm but like a fucking explosion and Viggo wondered dimly if it was possible to die from this and couldn't even care if it was.

He thought maybe he was crying when he slumped down onto Sean, the taste of warm salt heavy on his tongue and it took him a moment to realize he was tasting sweat. His cheek was practically glued to Sean's back with it and Viggo grimaced, peeling himself away and resting his chin on Sean's shoulder instead. He had a brief flash of guilt when he realized he didn't even know if Sean had come too, but it was obvious in every quiver, every shuddery breath that Sean took that he had been with him all the way.

Carefully sliding out, Viggo winced at Sean's ragged moan, mouthing soft apologies against his damp skin. God, Sean must think he'd lost his mind and Viggo wasn't too sure it'd be that far off. Dutch courage be damned, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to drink before having sex again.

Still, Sean wasn't exactly scrambling away from him. Sean sighed deeply, shifting a little and tangling them together a little more comfortably before opening his eyes just enough for a faint gleam of green to peer out. "You're a bloody maniac!" Sean accused lazily, rippling beneath Viggo as he stretched.

"I'm sorry," Viggo muttered, more than a little embarrassed and Sean laughed, shaking the whole sofa with the force of it.

"For God's sake, don't apologize! I think you melted my bones." Sean chuckled, shifting into a soft hiss as he tried to roll over. "You might want to wait a month or so before you try it again though," he added ruefully.

The insinuation that there would be a next time made Viggo catch his breath and words caught on his lips, unspoken, because what the hell was there to say, anyway?

Sean was watching him through his lashes and maybe he could see a bit what Viggo was thinking in his eyes. He smiled with more warmth than humor and tilted his head up a bit, inviting a kiss that Viggo was more than happy to steal.

"Let's sleep it off in bedroom," Sean murmured, already sounding sleepy.

"Good idea. I was beginning to think you had an aversion to beds." Viggo thought maybe he'd imagined the catch in his own voice but Sean frowned and kissed him again, harder, trying to show things maybe that neither of them could put into words just yet.

"We'll figure it out, yeah?" Sean whispered into his mouth. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Viggo agreed softly, brushing his lips over Sean's. Whatever else came of this, he would always want them to be friends. And he'd drink to it, too, make a toast to whatever kind of friendship they could deal with. After all, they were making a movie and not every injury could be hidden with a layer of makeup. Even ones between friends.

-finis-

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