Title: Control Me

Author: Elandae

Pairing: Karl/Viggo

Rating: NC-17

Summary: It’s all about control. Having it and losing it. 

Feedback: Always welcome!

Warnings: graphic m/m action. Some foul language. 

Author’s Notes:  Karl wanted it hard, and you know I can’t resist him. I told him since I

was good enough to give him Viggo to play with that he should be nice, but he just 

didn’t listen. 

Disclaimer: Don’t know these people (thanks a lot for reminding me*sniffs*), I make 

no claims to their actual lives or preferences.

Dedication: For Wolf, who likes fluff-free stuff, and who feeds my brain, sometimes

literally.

Viggo Mortensen was a man who was always in control. Whether by choice or default, the fact still remained. Others looked to him for guidance, expected him to know what to do, how to handle any situation. Everyone that is, except for Karl, and that was why Viggo was attracted to him, drawn to him really. Karl gave Viggo something that he wanted and hadn’t even realized he needed. Karl dominated him, and Viggo gloried in this loss of control, in Karl’s stern authority. Karl pushed him, challenged him the way no one else dared to. Karl never looked to Viggo for guidance, never asked him for help, he never asked period. Karl knew what he wanted from Viggo, and he took it, whether Viggo was willing to give it or not, except Viggo always was willing. He was drawn to Karl’s arrogance, the fact that he didn’t need Viggo, simply made Viggo want him more. Crave him.
 
  *   *   *   *   * 
 
          The first time they had met, Viggo had felt an immediate spark as those unreadable hazel eyes had slid over him. Karl had been maddeningly indifferent to him, never letting on how he felt, driving Viggo crazy.  Then one day, they had been in the costume room, just the two of them. Viggo had looked up to see Karl watching him, his face expressionless, making it almost impossible to read what he had in mind, but the telltale gleam in his eyes giving it away. His eyes had locked with Viggo’s, not saying anything, just watching, the silence making Viggo uncomfortable, before slowly rising from his chair. He had moved across the room, his eyes never leaving Viggo’s, moving entirely too slow, and too fast at the same time. And then he was in front of Viggo, heat radiating from his body, those too intense eyes still on his…then moving down, his eyes now fixed on Viggo’s mouth, making his intentions clear, not asking for permission, not hesitating.
 
  *   *   *   *   *
 
          Karl walked past Viggo, his hand tailing across the back of Viggo’s neck, sending a shiver through Viggo’s body.  Karl leaned down and whispered into Viggo’s ear, warm breathe tickling

"My trailer, 5 minutes," Karl tightened his grip slowly on Viggo’s neck, digging his fingers in, until the tips showed white from the pressure, ’Don’t make me wait.’ The last part was dangerous, hard, a warning they both knew was useless. Karl walked away without waiting for Viggo’s response. Viggo would be there, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t make him wait. Viggo knew what happened when Karl didn’t get what he wanted.
 
  *   *   *   *   * 
 
          Viggo knocked softly on the trailer door, looking around to see if anyone was watching.  He shifted nervously from foot to foot. Peter had caught up with him on the way, and had wanted to discuss some things. Viggo had endured it for a couple of minutes before making a hasty escape. He couldn’t make Karl wait. Viggo didn’t hear the door open behind him and could only gasp as a hand reached out and yanked him  inside. Karl threw him up against the wall, and before Viggo even had a chance to catch his breath, Karl’s mouth was on his, hot and merciless. And taking, always taking. Viggo broke away as soon as the need for oxygen overcame his need for Karl’s mouth. Karl licked his lips and smiled at Viggo. Not his usual smooth smile, this one was hard and predatory, this one sent Viggo’s pulse racing in a way the other one never could. Karl’s other smile was nice, it made you feel good. There was nothing nice about this smile, this one meant that Karl was looking for one thing, and Viggo was going to be the one to supply it. And he liked that.

Karl pressed his body into Viggo’s, grinding their hips together, wringing a strangled moan from the older man. Karl could feel the way Viggo’s pulse was racing, feel how hard Viggo was for him, how much he wanted him. Karl knew exactly the effect he had on him. Viggo had been aching to be controlled; it had just taken someone like Karl to show him that he liked being made to give up control, that he liked being powerless, forced to become only a means to an end, to be used. Oh yes, Karl had rather enjoyed wearing down Viggo’s meager defenses. Sure it had been easy, but hell, it saved Karl a lot of time and energy. Plus, it meant that he could just go straight to the sex. Karl had no desire for conversations, to get to know Viggo; all he wanted was to fuck him. He didn’t need to hear about childhood traumas, all he wanted was to bend Viggo over the nearest available surface.

Karl occasionally enjoyed the wearing down process, the breaking in as he called it, but fuck him if challenges weren’t overrated. Karl would rather spend his time with Viggo on his knees in front of him, than having to show someone else that Karl’s way was the *only* way. Besides, Viggo was a rather nice piece of ass, if not much of a challenge.
 
          Karl’s voice broke the silence in the trailer, "Get on your knees."

     Viggo opened his mouth to say something but Karl silenced him by placing a finger over his lips,
"I didn’t ask you here to talk," Karl said, deliberately enunciating each syllable  as if he were talking to a child, "Now get on your fucking knees. I want to see those perfect lips wrapped around my cock."

    Viggo looked into Karl’s eyes, and Karl could see the internal struggle over whether he should submit to Karl, or to assert himself as he was used to doing. Karl knew what Viggo would decide upon, and smiled to himself when Viggo slid wordlessly to his knees. Viggo could not resist the temptation, the debauchery of this. He wanted to be made to be dirty, and who better for the job than Karl?

          Viggo moved to unbutton Karl’s pants, but the darker haired man, brushed his hands away. Karl unfastened them himself and pulled out his rock hard cock. He pressed the glistening tip against Viggo’s lips, painting them with precum.

"Tell me how much you want this," Karl commanded, "Tell me how you’ve been dreaming all day about having my cock in your mouth."

    Viggo opened his mouth to respond, but Karl pushed his cock between Viggo’s parted lips. Viggo barely had a chance to gasp before his mouth was filled with Karl’s cock, before all he could taste was that hot saltiness of Karl’s skin. Viggo played his tongue against Karl’s erection, sliding it around the head, before relaxing his throat muscles and letting the cock slide smoothly down.
 
          Karl twined his fingers through Viggo’s hair, pushing into him. Viggo moved his head as much as he could. Being that he was pressed between Karl’s firm body and the wall, that didn’t leave much wiggle room. Judging from the small moans Karl was making, Viggo knew that he wasn’t doing too badly. He felt Karl’s fingers push harder into his scalp, urging him to move faster. Viggo complied, increasing his speed, swirling his tongue around the head of Karl’s cock, before taking him deeply, working his throat muscles. Viggo could feel how close the other man was, by the tension in Karl’s body, his ragged breathing, and the rigidity of the fingers tangled in his hair. With one more flick of his tongue and a rough cry, Karl came, sending wave after wave surging into Viggo’s mouth. Viggo swallowed dutifully, because that was what good boys did.
 
          Viggo got to his feet. Karl tucked his softening member back into his pants. He noticed Viggo watching him and stepped a little closer, if that was possible. He reached down and cupped the very noticeable bulge in Viggo’s pants. Stroked him slowly through the cloth.

"You want me?" Karl asked, his voice low and silky.

"Yes," Viggo groaned, surprised he was still functioning enough to converse.

"Well," Karl said pulling back his hand, and making Viggo groan in a whole other way, "You should have thought of that before you made me wait." And with that, he was gone, the trailer door slamming behind him, leaving Viggo alone and achingly hard.
 
  *   *   *   *   *  
 
          Viggo was sitting on his couch reading, when he heard a firm knock on the door. He set the book down and padded softly into the hallway. Through the glass panels on either side of the door he could see Karl standing impatiently outside. Viggo ground his teeth together. The bastard had the nerve to come here after what he had done today in the trailer? Viggo had had several scenes with Karl today, but hadn’t had a chance to speak to him alone. He had seethed all day, unable to believe that Karl would just leave him there like that.
 

He ignored the small part of himself that liked how Karl took what he wanted, how Karl didn‘t hesitate to use Viggo for his own pleasure. Viggo made himself focus on the anger. He opened the door, and greeted Karl with one word, "Asshole."

    Karl chuckled softly, ‘Now, is that any way to welcome someone into your house?’ He asked, raising one eyebrow. "Can I come in?" he asked with mock civility, not waiting for an answer before marching into the hallway and pushing the door closed behind him.

"You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here, especially after—" Viggo started, but found his words cut off, his oxygen supply cut off, as Karl responded the way he usually did when he and Viggo were alone and there was a hard surface nearby. Viggo felt his spine press hard into the wall, and his eyes hardened, even as his body melted and submitted. Somehow his resolutions always seemed to melt away once Karl was in front of him, once he saw that blatant hunger in his eyes. Viggo seemed as intoxicated by Karl’s power as Karl
himself was.

          Karl smiled at Viggo, his toxic smile, the one that never even came anywhere near those hazel eyes.
"I told you not to make me wait," Karl said, his voice condescending, degrading even.

"But I got held up by--," Karl silenced Viggo’s protest. Viggo never seemed able to complete a sentence around this man.

"I don’t care *why*," Karl replied, "I said not to make me wait." And that was that, no explanation allowed, just don’t do it ever again. Viggo was sure if he did, the punishment would be much worse the next time around. Karl leaned closer and said softly, mockingly, "Did the bad little boy learn his lesson? Or am I going to have to teach it to him again?"

"N-no," Viggo stuttered.

"No, you didn’t learn it, or no you don’t need to be taught it again?" Karl asked calculatingly.

"No. I don’t need to be taught it again," Viggo answered, his words hard. God, Karl was such an arrogant prick, so fucking sure of himself, so condescending- and so goddamn sexy. That’s really what it all came down to. 

"Well, now, aren’t you going to offer me something to drink?" Karl asked, his voice deceptively light. Viggo looked at him with in bewilderment, but offered him a drink.

"No, thanks, I’m fine," Karl replied maddeningly.

"You really are an asshole."

"Thanks," Karl declared, "That’s really quite a compliment coming from you." Again with the lethal smile.
"You know,"  Karl said walking down the hall and into the living room, "You really aren’t much of a hostess." He settled himself on the couch, settling his arms comfortably along the back. Viggo ignored the barb, ignored the comment altogether, finding it difficult to match this Karl with the man that everyone else knew and saw. To assimilate this asshole….this utterly controlling arrogant bastard with the softer, warmer side that Karl usually presented. Never with Viggo. Around him, yes, but Viggo never saw the softer side. He was intrigued by the dual beings in this one shell. He didn’t know how someone could be two such different things at the same time. This hard/soft quality captivated Viggo, these two opposites that should be warring within this man, yet somehow found…. a  happy equilibrium. The fucked up thing was that Viggo could never quite figure out which was the real Karl and which was the façade.

"Well," Karl said, rising easily from the couch, "Aren’t you going to show me around?" Viggo stared at Karl for a moment, before realizing what Karl had said. "Uh…yeah, sure," he replied, surprised by this request.

 
          He led Karl through the living room, pointing out the kitchen. He moved into the dining room, and turned around to find Karl right behind him, once again smiling in a way that made Viggo vaguely uncomfortable.

"I like your table," Karl said, gesturing to the table Viggo used as a desk, scattered with various papers and random objects. Okay, what? He….liked the table? That was rather strange, even for Karl.

"Um…thanks?" Viggo replied, unsure exactly how one was supposed to respond to compliments on a table. Were you even supposed to say something? He looked at  Karl and it suddenly dawned on him exactly why the taller man liked the table.

"You don’t mean…here?" Viggo asked, not sure why he was surprised. Karl didn’t like sex in beds; he felt that was too regular, too common, he preferred to utilize other surfaces.

"Of course, I do," Karl replied, using his body to press Viggo back into the table. Viggo felt the edge press into his skin. Karl grinned, leaned forward and kissed Viggo, and somehow the table digging painfully into him slipped from his mind as he tasted Karl’s mouth on his. Viggo’s breath catching when Karl bit his lower lip hard enough for him to taste his own blood. Karl licked the blood from Viggo’s lip, the metallic tang dancing on his tongue. He smiled in approval before pulling back from Viggo and murmuring, "Take off your clothes."

    Even though the tone was soft, Viggo could hear the warning beneath it. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with Karl anyway.
 
          Karl pushed Viggo so that he standing in front of him, watching as Viggo fingers slowly moved to unbutton his shirt, letting it fall softly to the floor. He unbuckled his belt, flicked the button on his pants open, easing the zipper over his jutting erection. Viggo let his pants drop to the floor before stepping out of them, standing completely nude in front of Karl, feeling his eyes roam all over Viggo’s smooth tanned skin.
"Now touch yourself," Karl ordered, the volume low, and the tone rough, but even so Viggo could hear the power in his words. "I want you to wrap your hand around your cock and stroke it for me."

    Viggo looked at him, aroused simply by his words, before wrapping his hand around his cock, and slowly starting to stroke. Up and down the length, twisting his hand over the head, make Viggo’s head fall back a little, his eyes slid shut. Imagining that it was Karl’s hand that was stroking him, sending these sensations through his body.

"Come here," Karl said, startling Viggo open his eyes suddenly. He moved towards Karl and felt himself pulled roughly against the other man’s body, his clothes coarse against Viggo’s sensitized skin, an insult to his senses.
 

    Viggo felt Karl’s mouth descend on his, all heat and fire; he pushed back into Karl, feeling him guide Viggo’s hands to his shirt. Viggo understood the unspoken command, and he pulled Karl’s shirt from his pants, breaking away from his mouth only just long enough to get it over Karl’s head. Viggo tossed it heedlessly on the floor, not even aware of what he was doing, or of the table pressing into him again. He could only feel Karl’s mouth on his, Karl’s tongue against his; he needed more, needed Karl.
 
          Viggo trailed his hands down the heated skin of Karl’s chest, stopping at the denim barrier at his waist. He attempted to undo the button, fumbling in his eagerness. He finally got it open and slid the zipper down, taking the opportunity to trail his fingers over Karl’s stiff erection. Viggo pushed Karl’s pants down over his hips, noting that, as usual, Karl wasn’t wearing anything beneath them. The pants pooled at Karl’s feet and he flung them aside.

          Karl pulled closer to Viggo. The way he moved made Viggo think of a jungle cat, a jaguar or something, all lithe muscles creating this illusion of calm, until he struck suddenly, without warning. Which he did now, before Viggo knew what was happening, he was flat on his back across the table, the surface painfully hard beneath him, but somehow Karl’s hands on his body made him forget that.
 

    Viggo gasped as he felt Karl suckling at his nipple, rolling it between his teeth, biting it one moment, and then soothing it with the heat of his tongue the next. Viggo pushed up into his mouth, his fingers already twined in Karl’s tousled locks. He moved his way slowly down, leaving behind the random bite
mark, a blemish on Viggo’s perfect body. Karl trailed the very tip of his tongue up the underside of Viggo’s erection, making the man beneath him gasp and arch up into him, desperate for more than this flickering touch. But Karl would do little more than tease, just light whispering touches, enough to drive Viggo wild, but denying him the contact he craved.
 
          Karl walked his fingers up Viggo’s leg, making his skin tingle and his nerves jump. He slid them slowly around the shaft, over the sacs below, a feather light touch that did nothing more then frustrate, and down farther to trace over Viggo’s puckered entrance. At Viggo’s breathless moan, he eased one finger inside Viggo’s hot body, working it smoothly in and out, before adding another.
 

    Viggo’s eyes, which had slid shut when he felt Karl’s tongue on his achingly hard cock, snapped open again when he felt Karl move away from him. He wanted to cry at the sudden lack of contact. The air felt cold on his naked body, and he yearned for Karl’s heat. He watched with lidded eyes as Karl licked his hand, smoothing it over his cock, mixing it with precum. Before Viggo even realized what he was doing this for, Karl was thrusting into him. Viggo arched off the desk at the sudden pain, the slight lubrication doing nothing more than just blurring the edges.
 
          Karl started moving within Viggo’s tight hot clasp, hitting that certain spot with every thrust. The pain/pleasure was coursing through Viggo’s body, mingling, intertwining until he couldn’t tell which was which, until all he knew was that he wanted more. Needed more. He pressed firmly back into Karl, feel the burning heat within him, scorching him, the hard edge of the table cutting into the curve of his ass. Karl’s fingers were pressed tightly into the flesh on his hips, holding him, bruising him…marking him. Viggo could not stop himself from calling out with every hard thrust, feeling Karl’s fingers began to slide on his hips, sweat forming everywhere skin touched skin. He could feel the tension in both of their bodies, the pleasure gathering right in the center of him, about
to explode.
 
          Viggo reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock, aching to be touched, stroked, needing this contact, he was so close. Just one more stroke, and then he was coming in hot spurts over his hand, pure pleasure coursing through his veins, a low cry torn from his throat. He was scarcely aware when Karl thrust into him one last time, so hard, so fucking deep, his mouth open in a wordless cry as he spilled his seed inside of Viggo. Karl collapsed on top of the prone body beneath him, his skin dampened with sweat, the smell of sex heavy in the air. He lay there gasping for a moment, before pulling out and rolling over next to Viggo on the desk. He winced and pulled a pen out from under him, tossing it aside. Karl reached over and grabbed a box of tissues from the edge of the table, passing the box wordlessly to Viggo, so he could clean himself up.
 
  *   *   *   *   *

Viggo closed the door behind Karl, watching through the glass panel as Karl strode off into the darkness, his frame distorted at the edges by the scalloping on the glass.  He turned off the porch light, blinking at the sudden darkness, before heading to the kitchen for a drink. 

    He settled himself back on the couch with his drink, resuming the position he had been in when Karl had arrived so unexpectedly earlier this evening. He pulled his book open to the page he had been on and settled down, content to be alone again. A small smile touched his mouth, not a happy one, but the smile of a man who has gotten what he wants.
 

Viggo Mortensen was a man who was always in control. To let someone take control of your body, to consciously allow it, is not a great show of trust; it is a great show of power. The only reason Karl thought he was in control, was because Viggo let him. So you see, even when he wasn't, Viggo was always in control. 
 
The End

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