ext_81182 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
worthyopponent.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2005-04-11 09:09 pm
worthyopponent.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-04-11 09:09 pm
Catharsis, Elijah
My first attempt at LoTRiPS, and anything above roughly PG-13. The beginning is shaky and the end is not quite what I was going for, but it's close, and I think it turned out well enough for a first attempt. Feedback is greatly appreciated.
Catharsis
Elijah/various (sort of)
R, possibly bordering on NC-17.
400 words for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blythely and her latest one shot come shot challenge. Thanks to wheresmytower for the title.
Summary: Wanking. Whee!
Warnings: Er. Wanking. Implied voyeurism and a little bit of Tolkien-blasphemy thrown in for good measure.
Disclaimer: No harm, nofoul money.
(crossposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
woodlust)
Elijah’s cock, heavy and already slick with precome, twitched as he remembered the way Dominic had looked spread out beneath him, long ago. He tugged and pulled and a thousand other sights and sounds unreeled themselves in his mind’s eye. Billy’s lips. Orlando’s jubilant laugh. Mountains. Viggo’s dark, strong hands. Nnh. Liv’s soft hips. Ian’s slow, cultured voice. Oceans. Cate’s easy grace. The sparkle in Sean’s eyes every time he smiled.
The sounds the neighbors made when they were having sex. The houses were built so fucking close he could hear everything, especially on the hottest nights when they left their windows open. Those were good nights. Sometimes he felt vaguely sorry, as though he was invading their privacy, but hell. It wasn’t like he had any control over it. Fuck privacy.
He moaned, loud and luxurious.
Waves lapped softly against the beach. The dawn air was rain-warm and heavy in his lungs. The beach was empty and quiet. Elijah decided he’d take his chances and stayed resolutely outside, his naked hip cocked slightly against the frame of the sliding door.
There was never time to do this properly any more; he wanted to savor it. He fisted himself slowly, determined to drag the next few minutes out as long as possible. Years worth of friends and cast mates and beautiful strangers paraded through his mind. Their voices and hands left whispers on his body and in his ears as the breeze circled its arms around him. He saw flashes of all the beautiful places he had seen and snippets of slow, lazy days scrolled behind his eyes, quieting the fire that had risen all too quickly in his blood. Surfing in New Zealand. Sleeping late in L.A.. Finally dozing off in some anonymous hotel at the end of a long press junket.
By now his cock had begun to ache, and he needed to come. He tried to summon strong images of Billy’s mouth wrapped around his cock, Orlando laughing, Viggo’s hands tight on his hips. Instead a jumbled roar of sense-memories swirled through him, textures and tastes and sounds and scraps of faces, smiles and warm hands and gentle, loving arms all around him, holding him up.
He moaned softly, feeling full of heat and and want and a softer edge of something else. He came, eyes closed, to a vision of white shores and a swift sunrise.
Catharsis
Elijah/various (sort of)
R, possibly bordering on NC-17.
400 words for
blythely and her latest one shot come shot challenge. Thanks to wheresmytower for the title.Summary: Wanking. Whee!
Warnings: Er. Wanking. Implied voyeurism and a little bit of Tolkien-blasphemy thrown in for good measure.
Disclaimer: No harm, no
(crossposted to
woodlust)Elijah’s cock, heavy and already slick with precome, twitched as he remembered the way Dominic had looked spread out beneath him, long ago. He tugged and pulled and a thousand other sights and sounds unreeled themselves in his mind’s eye. Billy’s lips. Orlando’s jubilant laugh. Mountains. Viggo’s dark, strong hands. Nnh. Liv’s soft hips. Ian’s slow, cultured voice. Oceans. Cate’s easy grace. The sparkle in Sean’s eyes every time he smiled.
The sounds the neighbors made when they were having sex. The houses were built so fucking close he could hear everything, especially on the hottest nights when they left their windows open. Those were good nights. Sometimes he felt vaguely sorry, as though he was invading their privacy, but hell. It wasn’t like he had any control over it. Fuck privacy.
He moaned, loud and luxurious.
Waves lapped softly against the beach. The dawn air was rain-warm and heavy in his lungs. The beach was empty and quiet. Elijah decided he’d take his chances and stayed resolutely outside, his naked hip cocked slightly against the frame of the sliding door.
There was never time to do this properly any more; he wanted to savor it. He fisted himself slowly, determined to drag the next few minutes out as long as possible. Years worth of friends and cast mates and beautiful strangers paraded through his mind. Their voices and hands left whispers on his body and in his ears as the breeze circled its arms around him. He saw flashes of all the beautiful places he had seen and snippets of slow, lazy days scrolled behind his eyes, quieting the fire that had risen all too quickly in his blood. Surfing in New Zealand. Sleeping late in L.A.. Finally dozing off in some anonymous hotel at the end of a long press junket.
By now his cock had begun to ache, and he needed to come. He tried to summon strong images of Billy’s mouth wrapped around his cock, Orlando laughing, Viggo’s hands tight on his hips. Instead a jumbled roar of sense-memories swirled through him, textures and tastes and sounds and scraps of faces, smiles and warm hands and gentle, loving arms all around him, holding him up.
He moaned softly, feeling full of heat and and want and a softer edge of something else. He came, eyes closed, to a vision of white shores and a swift sunrise.