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fellowshippers2004-07-02 08:56 pm
aquila0212.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-07-02 08:56 pm
Fragile Part I
Title: Fragile (1/2)
Author: Aquila
Pairing: EW/VM
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Isn't true, never happened. Never will, I'm sure!
Summary: Viggo has a crush on Elijah.
Viggo couldn't stop watching him, couldn't take his eyes off him, in fact. In all his life, he had never, ever seen a more beautiful young man.
Elijah.
He remembered so clearly his first day on the set, when he had encountered him standing outside the trailer with his back to the wind, trying to light a cigarette. Clothed in a leather jacket, a black t-shirt and scruffy black jeans that had seen better days, he looked like any number of nameless youths who idly hang around in packs at suburban shopping malls. But he wasn't one of them. Because when he lifted his head, two huge, spectacularly blue eyes beamed from a face that seemed like it had been carved out of pure, white marble, the kind of face you see on Greek statues. It knocked the very breath out of him.
"Shit," he heard him say in frustration and without even thinking, Viggo rushed to help.
"Here -- let me," he said, taking the lighter and quickly flicking his thumb down the wheel, producing a flame that the boy cupped his hands around to finally ignite the tip of the cigarette.
He blew out a mouthful of white smoke that was scented with cloves and smiled charmingly, revealing a sexy little gap between his front teeth. "Thanks...You must be Viggo Mortensen -- I heard you were coming today." He put out his hand. "I'm Elijah Wood."
Elijah Wood? Wasn't he...just a kid? Wasn't he in that one with Macaulay Culkin...and that dolphin movie? Yeah -- that was him. Hollywood wunderkind. But....this??? When had he become...this?
Viggo recovered himself just enough to shake his hand, and then proceeded to get lost in those amazing eyes. "Uh...yeah, I'm Viggo -- nice to meet you...."
And so the obsession grew. Viggo watched. He watched the way emotions flitted effortlessly across Elijah's chiseled features. His infectious laugh that he gave away with no thought or care, the way he could talk animatedly, non-stop, for long minutes at a time and then drop equally as still...everything.
But...more than just watching, his mind started conjuring up unbelievably vivid fantasies starring this adorably impish man child. It made his toes curl to think of kissing that pink mouth, so small and yet so right in that square-jawed face. Oh my God, that mouth. What he wanted to do to it. And only today, as they acted in their scene together at Amon Hen, with Viggo on his knees before him, did the picture float into his brain, unbidden, of taking him into his mouth, feeling him on his tongue. Tasting him. He could only imagine the sounds that that gorgeous throat would produce as his dark eyelashes fluttered closed with pleasure. It was more than he could bear.
Did Elijah know? Did he have any idea what he was doing to him with little more than a casual glance in his direction? Could he even begin to envision the tortured nights tangled in damp, bed sheets as Viggo desperately sought release from his blue-eyed tormentor?
He was surely not as fragile as he looked.
He knew.
Author: Aquila
Pairing: EW/VM
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Isn't true, never happened. Never will, I'm sure!
Summary: Viggo has a crush on Elijah.
Viggo couldn't stop watching him, couldn't take his eyes off him, in fact. In all his life, he had never, ever seen a more beautiful young man.
Elijah.
He remembered so clearly his first day on the set, when he had encountered him standing outside the trailer with his back to the wind, trying to light a cigarette. Clothed in a leather jacket, a black t-shirt and scruffy black jeans that had seen better days, he looked like any number of nameless youths who idly hang around in packs at suburban shopping malls. But he wasn't one of them. Because when he lifted his head, two huge, spectacularly blue eyes beamed from a face that seemed like it had been carved out of pure, white marble, the kind of face you see on Greek statues. It knocked the very breath out of him.
"Shit," he heard him say in frustration and without even thinking, Viggo rushed to help.
"Here -- let me," he said, taking the lighter and quickly flicking his thumb down the wheel, producing a flame that the boy cupped his hands around to finally ignite the tip of the cigarette.
He blew out a mouthful of white smoke that was scented with cloves and smiled charmingly, revealing a sexy little gap between his front teeth. "Thanks...You must be Viggo Mortensen -- I heard you were coming today." He put out his hand. "I'm Elijah Wood."
Elijah Wood? Wasn't he...just a kid? Wasn't he in that one with Macaulay Culkin...and that dolphin movie? Yeah -- that was him. Hollywood wunderkind. But....this??? When had he become...this?
Viggo recovered himself just enough to shake his hand, and then proceeded to get lost in those amazing eyes. "Uh...yeah, I'm Viggo -- nice to meet you...."
And so the obsession grew. Viggo watched. He watched the way emotions flitted effortlessly across Elijah's chiseled features. His infectious laugh that he gave away with no thought or care, the way he could talk animatedly, non-stop, for long minutes at a time and then drop equally as still...everything.
But...more than just watching, his mind started conjuring up unbelievably vivid fantasies starring this adorably impish man child. It made his toes curl to think of kissing that pink mouth, so small and yet so right in that square-jawed face. Oh my God, that mouth. What he wanted to do to it. And only today, as they acted in their scene together at Amon Hen, with Viggo on his knees before him, did the picture float into his brain, unbidden, of taking him into his mouth, feeling him on his tongue. Tasting him. He could only imagine the sounds that that gorgeous throat would produce as his dark eyelashes fluttered closed with pleasure. It was more than he could bear.
Did Elijah know? Did he have any idea what he was doing to him with little more than a casual glance in his direction? Could he even begin to envision the tortured nights tangled in damp, bed sheets as Viggo desperately sought release from his blue-eyed tormentor?
He was surely not as fragile as he looked.
He knew.