Date: Sat, 18 Mar 2017 04:20:10 +0000 From: Pud Gunner <PudGunner@hotmail.com> Subject: Balls Deep In Snow Part I Disclaimer: This story is a complete work of fiction, written solely for entertainment purposes only. Any similarities to real life people, places or events are completely coincidental; I am in no way implying the true sexuality of either Kit Harrington, Richard Madden or Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. This story also contains explicit sexual content between two or more males, so if you find m/m relationships insulting or if it is illegal in your country to be reading this, please leave. Please don't re-post this story without my consent, but other than that, sit back, unzip and enjoy! *Please send any comments/criticisms to pudgunner@hotmail.com 'Balls Deep In Snow' |Prolouge|Rude Awakening| Written by Pud Gunner Sent: Sat, 31 Oct 2011 07:08:53 -0800 (WET) From: 'Nicky' <How's the hangover kitty-kat? ;P> A long, strong, writhing body settled under the covers. 'Nikolaj?' The lithe Londoner's long eyelashes flitted against the harsh blue glare emanating from his phone, his dark eyes scanning over the text a few times with some honest effort--as difficult as the task was. His temples throbbed painfully in response to the bright light. It took a few seconds for the context of the message to seep in; the wrap-up, the celebration, the brandy--it all came flooding back to him in a squalor of jumbled, unwanted memories. He audibly groaned, a hoarse, anguished sound releasing from his pouty lips. "I am never drinking again," Kit Harrington muttered under his breath, his voice a near non-existent whisper after all shouting and he had done the night before. The shooting for the pilot episode of HBO's fantasy television series 'Game Of Thrones' had just wrapped the night before, and the show's creators David Benioff and D. B. Weiss announced to the cast and crew that their DMT's were now sending the finished pilot to the head executives for approval--but whether or not the show would be green-lit to begin the production on it's first season or not was still up in the air. Kit however, was cautiously optimistic--this was, after all, his first ever film or television role. Before getting the call from Benioff's casting directors to read for the downtrodden bastard character 'Jon Snow', the only prior acting experience he had was from a few shows in London's theater community. For all intents and purposes, this was his big break, and he prayed with every fiber of his being that the show would pass the scrutiny of producers and audiences alike--both for his sake, and for the sake of the rest of the cast and crew that had poured endless amounts of blood, sweat and tears into bringing George R.R. Martin's sprawling series of novels to life. But as of now, the Londoner felt like death. 'And probably look the part too.' He thought dryly. Although that point was arguable--The cute bloke had recently woken up to find himself splayed over the edge of one of the small, simple, single cots that occupied one of the casting trailers that was parked outside Castle Ward in Northern Ireland--not his own of course, but one of them. 'Well, I didn't end up passed out piss drunk in a ditch at the very least.' The television newcomer was a swathe of lean muscle splayed across the bedspread; he was nude, with a tangle of blankets pooling around his taut midriff--just enough to cover his modesty as the actor starfished in his cramped cot. His sinewy arms haloed over the silky tangle of midnight black that was his luscious head of hair--the Englishman also absentmindedly showing off a scrumptious pair of pits with equally dark fuzz nestled in his underarms. His chest rose and fell with calm, shallow breaths--his pectorals two smooth, flat mounds of alabaster skin. A dark treasure trail traced the deep ridge between his abdominals, following the center of his navel before disappearing in a tantalizing manner under the sheets once more. A set of lean thighs and long, taut calves coated in the same black fuzz stuck out from the under the other end of the sheets at odd angles--complete with the addition of a single white ankle sock still hanging off the tip of his left foot from the night before. The stud sighed. He licked his dry, cracked lips as his breath crystalized in the air due the fridgid Irish tempteratures that had breached the formally warm confindes of the trailer--causing Kit to stir uncomfortably under the covers, his small, perky nipples stiffening into eraser-like nubs due to the nippy air. Goosepimples rose on his forearms and back under the breath of winter, casuing him to shiver. Gingerly, his muscles screaming at him, the twenty-four year old rolled over to unplug his phone from the charging unit at his bedside, a flash of his glorious asscheeks peaking out from under the sheets as he did so before his thumbs began to glide lazily over the surface of the smartphone. <How's the hangover kitty-kat? ;P> <not gud. Nt good at all> <Ouch. You need to learn how to hold your liqour my friend.> <wow. such sound advice, nicky> Kit rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. He was almost used to Nikolaj's relentless teasing by now--it was how the Dane flirted, he discovered. He glanced at the clock face at the corner of the phone screen; 7:09AM. The hunk made a face that was something akin to disbelief. He continued to text. <nd why ar u txting me at this bloody hour???> <and besides, everybody hass a weakness of sorts! mine jus o happens to be stingers. lots of em.> <Too true--that stuff does always manage to knock you on your ass. Well, that and your stuntman, haha. But speaking of your ass...> <VIDEO MESSAGE SENT:> <"Nicky", 07:08:53 -0800(WET)> <OPEN?> "--a video?" Kit hushed, his breath fogging in his face as his eyebrows furrowed. With lips pursed, the limey scratched at the stubble on his cheeks, more than a little confused. Tapping the media to open it, Kit was honest-to-god curious as to what Nikolaj--smart ass, devilishly handsome, mischievous Nikolaj--could possibly want to send him this early in the morning. <"Mmmmhmmm--ah, ah yeah--fuck--!"> Safe to say, whatever he might have conjured up in his mind of what the video messaged contained was dead wrong. The cuties big, deep brown eyes widened at the sight the unmistakable image of a rock-hard, pale, phallic and obscenely large slab of Danish cock being jerked off by a disembodied fist. The shaft was massive--filling the majority of the screen, rising from under a pool of cotton sheets. The thing was easily nine, maybe even ten inches in length, and was covered in thick blue veins and tapered with a half inch of loose foreskin at the end. The big piece of meat was nestled in a bush of neatly trimmed, dirty blond pubic hair with a set of elegant, all-too-familiar fingers that were sliding the excess foreskin back and forth over the swollen dickhead at the top. <VIDEO MESSAGE SENT:> <"Nicky", 07:08:53 -0800(WET)> <OPEN?> <OPENED> <Woke up with major morning wood this morning. Had a sexy dream about you kitty--in Belfast, with me. You remember?> The young actor licked his lips at he notion, his heart doing double time in his chest as he observed the show that Nikolaj had taken the time to film for him this morning. Waldau slowly worked the python between his hairy thighs like a pro, going back and forth between long slow strokes to quick, fast ones--a tantalizing drop of dick dew beginning to weep from the tip of his manhood. Occasionally his free had came down to tug at his balls, or glide over his flat abdomen, and all the while little grunts and whispers of Kit's name broke the otherwise serene silence as the sound crackled from the smartphone speakers. Harrington felt his own cock swell in response, his flagpole tenting under the thin covers that just barely concealed his rod. He remembered his first encounter with the Dane all too well--although Kit was no stranger to sexual encounters with other men (he was a theater boy after all, and was never far from an all-too-willing fluffer backstage), Waldau had a disarming pressence too him that had the Londoner drunkenly following the older, more experienced man into one of the old Belfast pub stalls like a lost puppy to his master. Flashes of the initial rehearsal meetings long before shooting started raced through his filthy mind as he recalled specific details--Nikolaj shaking his hand upon meeting him, a sly smile meeting his own. The blond's cool, calm demeanor. Feeling the tips of his chilled fingers as he passed Kit the first beer of the evening. The shockingly icy sensation of those same fingers resting at the small of his back later that night. The sight of the Dane unbuttoning his fly inside the stall, only to see his intimidatingly large tool spilling out from between the open flaps of his trousers... The raven-haired bloke absentmindedly gripped his hard, hot shaft under the sheets, squeezing it gently as he once again wrote back to his co-star... <oh i remember, u dirty old man. ;P> <gods, what a cock. I wan that fat knob in my mouth rn, you tasted so good.....couldnt stp thinking about it evr time we had a scene together...> <Same. You look real good prancing around in that leather jerkin--wished I could just take you aside, peel it off your shoulders and ravish you silly again. Oh, but we wouldn't want to make Richard jealous if he caught us, would we?> Kit liked that idea more than he should have. <shut uppp. u know your the only flagpole ive been riding on set, haha.> <Hey now, I'm not judging. We're all allowed to have crushes kitty. And he is one smoking Scotsman--I wouldn't mind seeing if the carpet matches the drapes on that one. But I think I'll leave that pet project for you to tackle. XP> <Mmmm. You liked sucking me off in the back of a dirty ol' pub though, didn't you? Sucking me good before you took my big dick in that cute hole of yours?> <I practically had to stuff my fist in your mouth to keep you quiet, haha.> <fck yes! i never got dick that dep before. im touching myself thinkin of it rn.im so fuckin hrd. best audition process I ever hd, handz down, lol" <HA! Oh really? So I take it you'd be up for a round two?> <I heard the best cure for a hangover is getting plowed ungodly early in the morning. ;)> Harrington snorted out loud at that, his fingers moving from the hard ridge of his dick to trace the ring of hairs that circled his twitching, puckered asshole. The Londoner felt some resistance when he probed at his throbbing rosebud--he felt as tight as ever. 'Christ, it's been too long since I've gotten propperly stuffed.' he thought to himself. <gods yes. when and where sexy?> <Good question. Can't do it here, Sean and Kristian are bunking with me today. And as much as I would like a captive audience while we break in my cot, I like to keep my sexual appetites--discrete, if you catch my meaning.I'm sure you understand.> <o' course, of course.> <I rlly want that Danish cock though nicky. i'm twitching and everythin. ;P> <You are? Mmmm. And I want that hungry hole.> <Listen, if your up for taking a bit of a risk though, how about you meet me in the godswood set? Shooting has long since ended there...should be real quiet, vacant of unwanted visitors...plus there's nothing like grinding one out under the open sky. Haha.> Kit thought about it for a moment. He disliked the idea of getting naked out in this kind of horrid weather, but at the same time, the thought of getting at Waldau again, in the foliage of the wilds...it turned him on to no end. <sure, the godswood sounds doable.> <As do you, kitty-kat, haha. I'm slipping into my trousers now. I'll be by the heart-tree in fifteen minutes. Oh, and bring condoms. ;)> And with that, the raven-haired actor turned off his phone with a beep. 'Wow, I certainly did not envision this happening when I woke up this morning.' Harrington thought, a big grin spreading across his face. With a renewed vigor, the night's watchman kicked the sheets off of his body, swinging his legs over the side of the cot and easing his round buttocks off of the chilly bedspread. He almost immediately regretted the action; his vision churning as his head swam with the remnants of the alcohol in his temples, causing him to teeter across the trailer and over a human-sized lump that was lying on the ground, curled up in a sleeping bag... "Wha!--what the 'ell are you doing mate..." A Scottish trill husked, blatantly directed up towards Kit as he steadied himself against the wall, his engorged cock still bouncing between his legs with the movement of his stumble. The young actor stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze following the voice. Harrington caught sight of the figure gazing up from under the folds of the sleeping bag--all he could make out at first was a wave of auburn hair, and then, a frosty blue gaze that sent of rush of recognition through his pulse--and admittedly, also through his dick. Richard Madden starred wide-eyed at him, all sleepy and dazed. Stunned into silence, with his big pink lips parted, he honestly looked like he had seen a ghost. Which wasn't a half-bad comparison, as he eyed Harrington's milk-white silhouette up and down, naked as the day he was born--and embarrassingly enough, still fully erect from his conversation with Nikolaj. After a split second of horribly palpable tension, Kit was the first to take the initiative--quickly snatching the corner of a tablecloth that was draped over a small nearby dining table to swipe over his crotch, as he attempted to sputter out some sort of logical explanation--or maybe it was an apology? "JESUS! Richard! Fuck, I'm so--gosh, I'm such an idiot..." The actor sputtered, his ears getting hotter by the second as he stood, sinewy, full and gorgeous, but also chilled and vulnerable in front of another co-star and close friend of his. "Kit--what the actual fuck! What--how did you get into my cot?" Madden asked, his voice high and stressed, his blue eyes still raking over Kit's pale form. "I--dunno. I MEAN! I'm so sorry mate, I got so sloshed the other night, right, and I guess I was so pissed I just wandered into the first trailer I saw..." "So you thought you could just strip to your skivvies and take my bed? Gods, no wonder I'm so stiff--I passed out on the bloody floor all night..." The Scot groaned, cracking his neck painfully. Kit took note that the other man was slowly turning beet red, his neck, all the way up to his high cheekbones getting flushed as the heir to Winterfell struggled to turn his gaze away from the unusual sight before him, tugging the sleeping bag folds up closer to his bare, fuzzy chest. "I know! But you left it unlocked! Arrrgh. Rich, seriously, I didn't mean to just--intrude..." The stud replied, pulling the tablecloth closer to himself and over his bulging crotch modestly. The cloth tented obscenely before Richard's eyes as the ginger eyed the mushroom helmet of his co-stars engorged cock showing through the material. Kit gulped, his Adam's apple popping. Being in such a vulnerable--and sure, sexy--state in front of his admittedly very good-looking co-star was having some unwanted effects on Harrington's body. "You--look, listen, it's fine--we were both in a state last night. You just gave me a start is all, Kit! Shite!" Madden said, exhaling loudly, wincing as he sat up from his lying position on the cold floor. "Let's both just take this as a lesson learned; no more drinking like lousy cunts when on the job. Deal?" "Deal." Kit nodded, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Silence settled between them once more. "---sooo, uh, I think--yeah, these are definitely yours." The Scotsman soothed, riffling through his own pile of clothes on the floor until he settled on a pair of jeans. "I don't have stubby little legs like you do. I think even Peter has a longer gait than you." The Londoner regained his composure a bit in front of yet another one of his man-crushes, with Kit awkwardly reaching an arm out between them to snag the attire from his friend. He gave a shaky laugh. "Oh shut it, you." He retorted, hesitating slightly before eventually giving up on the endeavor of covering his manhood, settling for dropping the tablecloth and quickly turning his back to the other man to grant himself the closest thing to privacy he could muster. As he shuffled his feet across the linoleum floor, the gentle tint of orange morning light began to shine through the windows of the trailer, causing a warm glow to be cast over Kit's rounded shoulders as he hurriedly tried to ease one bare leg, and eventually the other into his noticeably tight and faded skinny jeans. Only all too aware of the fact that Madden's eyes were no doubt boring into his back, the limey abandoned all hope of finding his underwear and instead was struggling to shimmy the denim up and over his thighs as quickly as he could manage as he rushed to cover himself up for Richard's sake. 'I guess I'll be going commando today.' He thought, parting his lips, wanting to say something--anything. "I mean, ha, I guess you know now that I make up for my stubby legs with what's in my trousers--right? Haha." Harrington expressed weakly, a pitiful attempt at breaking the atmosphere of tension between them. "--Uh, yeah, I guess so." Richard exclaimed. Kit winced at the awkward tone of his voice. Richard, however, quite comfortable watching Kit dress. Snorting at the sight before him, he sat idly on the floor slowly tapping his fingers facetiously against the linoleum beneath him, his frosty gaze drinking in the sight of Kit fumbling over the article of clothing. He blatantly observed as Kit slid the denim up his thighs, the waistband resting for a moment just under the curve of his full, round buttocks, before he finally managed to wrench the material up and over the bulbous mound of his arse cheeks and around his waist. The ginger bit his full bottom lip playfully, half amused and half turned on by his co-stars embarrassment by this point. Kit, now thankful that at least he wasn't prancing around bare-assed anymore, quickly swiped up his charger, pulled the off-white knitted sweater over his head that was cast aside by the cot and began scanning the room for his other ankle sock, only to find Richard extending the article to him in his outstretched hand, his full, kissable lips curled into a knowing smile. "Thanks Rich." Kit murmured, slipping on his socks and then his loafers. "Anytime mate." The Scotsman chortled, their gazes meeting for a long moment, dark chocolate against translucent ice. "So yeah, I'm off to--go for a morning stroll. Work off the hangover, you know. Thanks again for letting me use your--cot--" And with a final apologetic nod, the Londoner eagerly scampered through the trailer's screen door without even so much as a glance back at his companion, dying to escape what might have been one of the most thoroughly awkward situations of his young life. The auburn-haired stud remained in a sitting position on the floor, slowly digesting what had just transpired for a moment. Shrugging to himself, he hurridly hopped up from underneath his sleeping bag as soon as the door slammed behind his mortified friend, the situation diffused. He was clad only in a pair of tight burgundy boxers-briefs that hugged his hips sexily, a sizeable buldge filling the front of them quite nicely. Richard took a few steps towards the screen door, squinting into the sunrise as he observed Kit tracking his way through the muddy lawn of the trailer park in a fast paced walk that rivaled most joggers. He shook his head endearingly at the sight before him, his handsome features molded into a wide, bright grin. Then, casting his gaze towards the kitchen with the intent of making himself some breakfast, Madden eased his hard, lean frame into a stark-white bath robe that was draped over one of the kitchen chairs to cover his own nakedness before making his way towards the refrigerator--only to spot a pair of tighty-whities left unattended on top of the kitchen counter. "How in the world did--" He paused, remembering Kit. Snatching the undies in a flurry off of the kitchen counter, the Scottish hunk made a break for the screen door once more, his robe billowing behind him as he stuck his head out into the brisk winter air outdoors; glancing around to see if he could spot his cute co-star. "KIT! You bloody idiot--KIT!" He called, straining his ears to listen for a call back, only to hear nothing. "Stupid sexy bastard; if that bloke liked cock--" Madden thought out-loud, the northern air already beginning to nip at his exposed flesh. The ginger liked to think of himself as heteroflexible at best, only ever fooling around a handful of times with a few mutural male friends back in his collage days in Scotland. Although undeniably erotic as well as enjoyable, aside from the casual circle-jerks to some crude straight porn rentals and mutural drunken makeout sessions with some random drama buffs in his dorm room he was still a relatively newcomer to homoerotic encounters. Which is why his apparent lust for his--admittedly extremely attractive--co-worker was so strange to him. The heir to Winterfell paused for a moment, gazing at the white cotton material in his hands for an instant, studying Kit's undergarments--before his pupils slowly began to dilate. 'Breakfast can wait.', he thought slyly to himself, his package twitching at his sudden epiphany. Glancing about the trailer park suspiciously for any unwanted onlookers, he eagerly backed away inside the comfort of his own trailer again only to greedily bring the material up to his nostrils, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of his on-screen brother's package into his nose. Even Richard, being as 'straight' as he was, could not deny that his co-star was one hot peice of limey ass. Occassionally he would catch Kit throwing a glance at him during shoots--eyes like twinkling bits of obsidian, him standing all tight arsed and slim waisted, lips so pretty and pink they could rival a girls. Full, luscious, lickable lips. Lips he began to think of more and more as proper cocksucking lips. He inhaled deeper. The scent of the cotton was intoxicating--a mixture of the saltiness of cum and sweat, with undertones of a somewhat spicy aroma that must've been Kit's own personal brand of body wash--which quickly sent a flurry of erotic imagery floating into his mind. The mire fact that these were briefs--Kit's briefs. That just hours ago, his sweaty cock and balls were concealed just beneath the fabric that was pressed against his nose and lips right at this very moment. That that high, round ass that he got a good eye full of just moments ago was cupped by the same material. His bulge throbbed in response, his cock expanding within the confindes of his undies in record time. The ginger used his free hand to automatically give the long, hard ridge lying across his hip a good squeeze through the material of his own undies. 'Fuck, this is actually getting me randy.` He thought to himself; he hadden't done anything like this since he used to steal his classmates jocks from his highschool gym class--out of curiousity, of course. ` Feeling little to no shame now that he was alone in his own quarters, Richard simply decided to let his drawers drop down around his ankles unto the floor, his sizeable cock springing to life against his abdomen as he eased the material over the shaft of his rod. His manhood was not disimilar to himself, long and lean, with a set of smooth low-hanging balls beneath a full, rounded shaft that made a sharp upward curve towards his navel. Though of average thickness, it was a commendable six or seven inches of cut cock that certainly seen mountains of pussy throughtout the years. Although now all he could invision was Harrington's cum-coated lips suckling at the tip of his warm tool. Humming in contentment with the release of his own impressive peice, Madden spat with a vulgar hack into his open palm, subsequently coating his cock in the clear saliva before he began to furiously stroke his long, pulsing tool--taking a series of deep sniffs of his co-stars rank undergarnments like it was his own personal brand of heroin. He worked his fist around his rod as he inhaled Harrington's unmistakable aroma--the quiet, wet smacking sounds of his masturbation gradually filling the otherwise silent trailer as the stud reflected upon the fact that he hadn't woken up feeling this good after a hangover in a long, long time. Then, he felt something--a buzz, distinctly coming from the bathrobe strewn over his feet. He lazily bent over to rifle through the pockets of the robe--free hand still milking his Scotish sausage with suprising finesse--until his fingers wrapped around his silver smartphone. Curious, he opened it, baffled at who would be texting him at this bloody hour. <Annex Bedroom, Castle Ward, sixth level. I expect to see you in those pink panties when I arrive. Don't doddle, cumslut.> Richard almost dropped his phone, the memories of the night before flooding back in a torrent of regret, anxiety, and arousal. "Awww shit." ______________________________________________________________________________ Author's Notes: So, here is the first part of a longer Game Of Thrones centric series I am planning on writing for Nifty. This was originally just the first half of a VERY long first chapter, but I decided to just split it in two and release the next bit later once I polished it a bit. Sooo I suppose this makes this a very homoerotic Epilouge, haha. I wanted to introduce most of the players and their sexual interests/situations before the action got super raunchy, and I think I achieved that. Making Nikolaj the confident but discrete foil to Kit's more bossy bottom nature was fun, and I always saw Richard as an evolving hunk when it came to his sexuality. But who is the sexual deviant who is making him their apparent boy-toy? Tune in next time to find out! (Spoiler alert, Richard ends up in a garter and stockings for our mysterious resident pervert by the next issue. Oh how I do love teasing you guys!) Again, hopefully the release of the next chapter will be soon-ish since I already have a start on it; at this point university is just a major roadblock in my writing right now. But! In conjunction I am planning / writing a few random one-shots like this AND more consecutive long-running series featuring other celebrities. You guys liked my suggestion of doing an Avengers series, so the planning for that is already underway, but please feel free to send me any feedback or ideas for new stories if you ever so desire! Also, I love hearing about what details finally sent you creaming in your seat, hehe. Until next time dudes! *Please send any comments/criticisms to pudgunner@hotmail.com