fellowshippers | (no subject)

Title: Gray
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sean/Elijah
Notes: For

empressaurelius, on her birthday!

A friendly kiss. A warm, wet mouth pressing into his for a split second. Hands across his shoulders, a boney little ass settling into his lap.

"Seanwise is the cuddliest," Elijah announced to a roomful of half drunk people. "He makes me feel all safe."

It was met by a chorus of disgustingly cute noises from Dom, Billy, and the like. He wanted to flip them off, to ask what they were staring at. It wasn't like they ever went two seconds without groping each other.

They'd lost interest in the teasing after a minute or two, and Sean was thankful for the short attention span. Elijah was half asleep, it seemed, staring out through hazy eyes. Sean carefully removed the drink from Elijah's hand and put it on the small end table. "Thanks," Elijah mumbled, shifting and burying his face in Sean's shoulder. "Think I drank too much."

"Think you did, too, Doodle." Sean said, half smiling.

"Take me home?" He asked, his head lolling back and forth. "Sam walks Frodo home."

"Yeah, he does." Sean said, and fell silent for a moment. Elijah seemed to drift off to sleep. "You need water."

Elijah scrunched up his face. "Gotta piss."

"So go do it. But you still need water."

Elijah shrugged, and stumbled up. Sean remembered just in time to reach for Elijah's for Elijah's glass, holding it still while Elijah grabbed onto the table for support.

Elijah's hands are damp and still kind of soapy when he returns. Sean's holding a full glass of water, and wondering why nights like this always make his head hurt.

Not quite as bad as Elijah's will be hurting in the morning, though.

The ride home was silent, save Elijah's occasional little hiccups. It wasn't until he pulled into the driveway that Sean saw the damp trails on Elijah's face.

"Are you..." Sean started to say, but Elijah turned his head and tucked his face in between the door and the seat. Sean laughed a little. "Come on, get out. I'll make you some coffee."

Elijah snuffled, but climbed out of the car.

Sean stopped him at the doorstep, wrapping an arm around Elijah's neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. "Go change into some clothes that don't smell like a brewery." He said, and bumped Elijah's forehead with his chin.

He thought about Christine, while he listened to Elijah stumbling in the bathroom. Christine and Alexandra, back home visiting with family. Christine gave great hugs, and great back rubs, and always rubbed his temples when he had a bad headache (alcohol related, or otherwise). He liked to lay with his head on her stomach. She smelled warm and sweet there, like baby powder and lilac soap.

Elijah still smelled like smoke and beer when he came out of the bathroom. Sean gave him more water, and mixed half the normal amount of sugar and cream into Elijah's coffee when it was finished boiling. "Drink up," He said.

Elijah gave him a wounded look. "It's hot," He whined.

Still drunk, though sobering slowly.

"Drink it." Sean said, and sat across from him until he finished it.

He wondered why he was here. Elijah was young, but he wasn't a child. He could have found a cab home. He could have gone straight to bed, and woken up, and taken medicine for his head and a shower and been all right. A bit worse for wear, but still functional. He wondered why he'd even gone out with the guys at all. He hadn't had much to drink, hadn't wanted any more than what he'd had. He'd sat on the sofa and watched Orlando's TV with the volume down low until Dom and commandeered it for a video racing game with Elijah, and then he'd just watched that.

"Sleepy," Elijah said, stretching his arms over his head until there was a dull pop. "You going home?"

"Yeah," Sean said. He didn't much like the idea of spending the night on Elijah's couch. There was a guest bedroom, but without an actual bed in it, it did him no good. He stood up, considering a cup of coffee himself before he left, but Elijah did look tired, and it probably wouldn't do much good anyway. "Night, Doodle." He dropped a hand into Elijah's hair, messing it up even more, and started toward the door. Elijah's hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Thanks, Sean." Elijah said, and tugged Sean back closer. Skinny arms around his waist, the side of Elijah's face smushed against Sean's sweater. Sean's hand rubbed at the back of Elijah's neck, absently. "You're great."

Sean laughed. "You're drunk."

"Doesn't mean you aren't great." Elijah tipped his head and stared up. "You really are." He dropped his head back down, nuzzling. "You'll call me and wake me up tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure." Sean's hands squeezed on Elijah's neck. "Sure."

"Good." Elijah stood up, clumsily pushing Sean back a little. His smile was lopsided, the gap between his teeth oddly eye-catching in the dim light. "Thanks." Another hug, this one around the neck, and then a damp spot on Sean's neck from where Elijah's mouth had been. "Sure you don't want to stay?"

Sean felt a pang. Christine would be expecting him to call. This always felt a little gray around the edges, times like this. Looking at Elijah's pale skin and remembering how Christine smelled, all at once.

He wanted to stay.

"Better not," He said. Elijah's disappointment wasn't even vaguely masked. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"'kay." Elijah said, and peeled himself away from Sean. "Goodnight, Samwise."

"Night, Doodle."

Sean walked out, tucking his fingers into his sleeve to protect them from the chill in the air until he got inside his car. The vents whirred and puffed out slowly warming air as he turned the key. He'd call Christine in the morning - afternoon for her - and talk for a bit with her and the girls... and then he'd call Elijah.