Protein Shake

by Vivianedesblanc and Nienor

His first thought, when he was finally awake enough to have thoughts, was that he was going to have to do laundry today. Sheets that stank of raunchy sex were only appealing the night the sex actually happened and since this was his only set of sheets, it meant a trip to the rusty washer in the basement.

Viggo knew he'd have to do it within the hour too, if his alarm clock was reading properly. He had a meeting with an ad studio at two, to do some photography work, and they had requested to see his portfolio before hiring him. Which meant he needed to get showered and ready to go pretty damned fast. He couldn't afford to let this job slide through his fingers or he'd be back in the park doing caricatures of tourists for rent money.

Not too fast though; he still had time to stretch and feel his muscles ache pleasantly in response. Sean had given him a hell of a fuck the night before and he'd be happy to carry that ache with him the rest of the week. He wondered vaguely when the man had left; he hadn't heard him, but that was no real surprise. When he'd been living in California, any earthquake that didn't crack pavement was easily slept through.

That had cost him a television and most of the contents of his wallet once, and he rather hoped Sean hadn't helped himself to anything before he'd left. Viggo wasn't too worried. Sean hadn't really seemed the type; too recently showered.

With the thought of showers, Viggo reluctantly rolled to his feet and trudged over to his. Just as he walked in a toilet flushed in the apartment above him and Viggo sighed irritably. He'd have to wait a few minutes or he'd get scalded. Instead, he squirted a line of toothpaste on his brush and started scrubbing his teeth. His mouth tasted like the floor of a taxicab, and he'd rather not remember how he knew what that tasted like just now.

He spat once, washing away the nasty flavor, and then scrubbed again, and nearly gagged on a mouthful of suds when a head popped into the doorway.

"Breakfast is almost read... are you all right?" Sean gave him a concerned look while he choked, even going so far as to pat him on the back, almost hard enough to make him choke again.

"Wha... urgh...?" Viggo managed, and he stopped, instead using his hand as a cup to slurp some water. He spat again before turning back to Sean, who was watching him with great interest. Flushing, Viggo realized he was stark naked and that Sean was very much dressed.

"Breakfast," Sean repeated, with an indulgent air, like one would adopt with an infant or a retarded child. "Kippers and coffee and fruit."

Viggo blinked, only catching two out of three-- but he decided those two sounded all right. As a matter of fact, they sounded better than all right, even through his astonishment that Sean was still around. He reached and fumbled for a glass and rinsed his mouth, but when he was done, Sean was still there, watching him.

"Sounds great. I'll be out after I grab a shower." He felt pretty silly, if the truth was to be admitted; Sean had on a nice Izod shirt and a pair of Dockers and loafers; he looked like he was about to go sailing or golfing or something equally expensive and snooty. The accent didn't help, either; every time he talked, Sean sounded like he was about to go into the drawring room to play the grahnd piahno.

The corners of Sean's mouth twitched suspiciously as Viggo glared at him in the mirror. Viggo decided to ignore him, snatching up his one ragged towel and stalking over to the shower to turn the knob-- if he didn't let the water run before he got in, the shower'd be ice cold. Sean never moved, and Viggo felt his temper thinning; he changed his mind. "Something you need?"

"I don't think so. I've everything I need, right here." Sean folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the door jamb. His eyes raked Viggo hotly.

Viggo felt his body stir; arousal was only a breath away, most mornings. So that was why he stuck around-- a little morning wood. Well, there could be worse reasons to hang around, Viggo figured.

Sean's eyes drifted southward, then slitted with contentment like a cat's as he surveyed the response his innuendo produced. "Right there," he murmured, and Viggo blinked as he fell to his knees without another murmur, his hands settling on Viggo's hips like they owned him.

He inhaled Viggo's half-hard cock with the most enthusiasm and the least skill Viggo could conjure in recent memory, but then skill didn't matter anymore because thought was gone and enthusiasm made up for a hell of a lot. Viggo cried out weakly, his knees wobbling before his brain made the adjustment between Sean standing there smirking and Sean on his knees sucking his cock like the world was coming to an end.

Sean's hands slid warmly down his hips and thighs, fingers curling inside his knees, and Sean calmly pulled his thighs apart, one of Viggo's feet sliding shakily on the bathmat. Sean immediately ran his hands back up Viggo's thighs and didn't stop till he buried two fingers inside Viggo's ass. The whole process took about five seconds, seconds in which Viggo's cock leaped to instant and almost painful erection, pushing hard against the back of Sean's throat.

"God, Sean!" He braced himself frantically, one hand on the top of Sean's head, feeling the faintly stiff texture of mousse in his hair, and the other scrabbling on his shoulder. Sean slurped an incomprehensible answer, working him clumsily; Viggo shuddered as the long fingers curled inside him, part of his mind damned glad Sean kept his nails cut smooth and short.

He was jerking like he'd been plugged into an electric current, his whole body strung harp-taut, with pleasure plucking a jangling melody over his nerves. "Ah, fuck, fuck, Sean-- that's good, FUCK, that's good," he babbled, swaying, finally finding the edge of the shower stall to grip desperately.

Sean mumbled something, the hum of his voice more than Viggo could bear, and his head fell back as his balls spent themselves without warning, right in the warm wet heat of Sean's mouth. Viggo stumbled and nearly fell; he sat down hard and gracelessly on the edge of the tub, gulping for oxygen, staring at Sean.

Sean choked a little, gasping, wet pearl on his lips and trickling down his chin. He looked at Viggo, eyes wide and surprised.

"Sorry, God, sorry," Viggo muttered, struggling to scrape his brains back into a pile that might be used for thinking. But then Sean's tongue ventured out, touching his lower lip, and his expression turned thoughtful; he pulled it back into his mouth and then swiped it out again, and it covered his lip, drawing it into his mouth for a better taste. Viggo stared, mesmerized, then reached roughly for Sean, hooking a hand behind his neck and dragging him close, swiping his tongue along the fresh-shaved stubble of Sean's chin, licking up the escaped trail.

Sean stared into his eyes, point-blank. "Not bad. Not saying I'd have it every day for breakfast, but wouldn't mind it every once in a while."

"Not bad," Viggo murmured, a little dreamily, and then he yelped in surprise when Sean bit the tip of his nose.

"You're going to be late for your appointment," Sean told him, climbing to his feet and dragging Viggo with him. He waited patiently for Viggo to regain his sense of balance before he stepped back and gave him a glowering look. " And why didn't you tell me I'd gotten your name wrong? All last night I was thinking I was happily fucking Victor, and I was with the wrong person. Right embarrassing, that is."

"I...sorry," Viggo said blankly. Sean patted him condescendingly on the head and then shooed him in the direction of the shower, which Viggo saw with a sinking heart was still running. Cold shower today, then, and he didn't even need it.

"Hurry up then, breakfast is waiting!"

Before Sean could vanish out the door, a thought occurred to Viggo. "How did you know about my appointment?"

Sean paused at the doorway and looked at him sadly, shaking his head. "You have a calendar on your refrigerator. Along with the letter the company sent you, a recipe for lemon bars, and a picture of someone's dog."

"Oh." Viggo was starting to think his brain cells had gone on strike or something, and vowed silently not to open his mouth again until he could think of something intelligent to say.

"And it's just as well because aside from the magnets and notes, there's not much in the damned thing. You have half a bottle of ketchup and a jar of pickles. No wonder you're so skinny. Now, shower up so you get something to eat before you go." Sean waggled his fingers at Viggo in some gesture of goodbye and vanished.

Viggo stared after him for a long minute before he surrendered and ducked into the shower, yowling aloud at the cold water. He scrubbed quickly, sluicing soapy water between his legs and under his arms. Washing his hair took a little longer and it gave him a chance to wonder where Sean had gotten the makings for breakfast, if not out of Viggo's kitchen. Had he actually gone out for groceries and then come back?

This was, by far, the oddest one-night stand he'd ever had. One night and one morning, rather. Shrugging mentally, he stepped out of the shower and dried off, hanging the towel up neatly so it would be dry for tomorrow. It only took a minute to comb his hair back into a neat ponytail and he wandered back to the bedroom naked, trying not to look as self-conscious as he felt.

A wasted effort; Sean was apparently still in kitchen. It only took Viggo a minute to skin into his mostly unwrinkled pants and a pullover. Decent, without being too posh, and it was lucky for him that was the basic photographer look, because if posh had been in demand, he'd have lost a lot more jobs.

He went into the kitchen warily and found Sean watching fresh coffee drain into the carafe with an expression better suited to a hungry lion. "I would have thought Brits liked tea," Viggo commented slyly.

"And I would have thought I'd find pork rinds and a revolver in your cupboard, so it just goes to show you we can't all make assumptions."

Viggo admitted defeat and sank into a chair, wrinkling his nose at both the smell and the appearance of some of the items on the plate. Those would have to be kippers, he decided, and he discreetly edged them away from fruit. There was plenty of it; a pale island of melon in the middle of his plate, and after a taste, he started in on it eagerly, happy that the kippers had not infected it.

"How do you take your coffee?" Sean asked, setting a mug in front of him.

"Black is fine," he mumbled, still munching and he blushed a little at his own manners when Sean gave him a look. He swallowed his current mouthful before adding a polite, "Thank you." This guy was worse than being around his mom.

"Americans," Sean sighed, dumping several teaspoons of sugar and a dollop of milk into his own, turning it muddy brown before apparently declaring it fit for consumption. It was a little awkward, for Viggo anyway, sitting there with someone he barely knew, having breakfast. Sean didn't seem to notice, and didn't mention Viggo's leftover kippers, just skewered them with his fork and ate them himself.

"You owe me one, you know?" Sean said noncommittally, sipping his second cup of coffee.

"Breakfast was pretty good."

"That wasn't what I meant," Sean smirked, and he deliberately adjusted himself in his pants.

Viggo's mouth went dry and he sipped his own coffee deliberately, letting his eyes drift over Sean's slouched form. Tempting as all hell, and he wondered how Sean tasted, or if he could get Sean to look at him with that dazed, wide-eyed look again.

"A shame you don't have time," Sean added mournfully. and with a jolt Viggo realized he was right. He had to leave right now if he wanted to catch the downtown subway.

"Shit," he muttered, scrambling to stuff his feet into his shoes, grateful that he'd gotten his portfolio mostly in order the day before. He could finish it on the train.

Sean was standing by the door, looking amused, and Viggo paused. "Look... I..." he stammered, and Sean cut him off with a kiss, deepening it quickly to sweep his tongue over Viggo's before he pulled away and gave him a wink.

"Don't worry, luv, you can pay me back tonight." Sean quickly brushed any wrinkles out of Viggo's shirt before shoving him out the door. "Good luck," he called, but Viggo was already half down the hall.

The subway entrance was only a quick sprint down the street and Viggo was almost there when he suddenly stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk. A young woman with bright orange hair and a pink tee shirt gave him a dirty look and walked around him. Viggo never even saw her.

"Did he say tonight?"

-finis-

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