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fellowshippers2005-08-19 12:27 am
precious-rosie.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-08-19 12:27 am
FIC: DEATHWATCH Series: I Need You Tonight Andy Serkis/Elijah Wood (1/1) NC-17
Title: I Need You Tonight
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
precious_rosie
Type: RPS AU
Series: Deathwatch
Pairing: Andy Serkis/Elijah Wood
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Set during the filming of both LOTR and Deathwatch. On a rare hiatus from their respective films, Elijah visits Andy in Prague. From Elijah’s POV.
Disclaimer: Lies! All lies I tell you! Artistic licence has been plastered on!
Warning: Fluff, but if RPS ain’t your thing, don’t read it.
Beta:shy_nerthuserce
Feedback: is welcomed
Archive: Manly Men
Author’s Note: Originally written in April 2003. Revised August 2005. The time to travel from New Zealand to Prague would probably take 34 hours or so and this is taken in to account. Also, Condotti’s Pizzeria is actually in Conduit Street, London and an old haunt of mine. I moved it to Wellington for this fic. There may well be a Condotti’s Pizzeria in Wellington…!
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rockabillyblue woodlust
“So, you’ve been summoned then?” Dom’s large eyes are fixed on one of the two desserts being carried by the waiter as he displays some nifty swerving tactics in order to avoid either being crushed by Christmas shoppers weighed down with bags or run over by their pushchairs and hobbit-sized children getting to their tables.
“You could say that!” I reply with faux languidness as the waiter sets the desserts down in front of us.
“Oooh, chocolate sauce as well!” Dom starts to attack the plate of ice-cream and sauce with enthusiasm. “I tell you, mate” he continues, “if I had a bloke like that waiting for me in another country, I wouldn’t be sitting here eating pizza and ice cream with my best mate! I’d be on the first flight over to Prague!”
I smile. “I am, on the first flight out tomorrow; 6:15 in the fucking morning! Thank you Pete for a free schedule this week!”
Dom goes quiet and eats more dessert. “So he’s having a really rough time out there?”
I nod, remembering the horror stories that Andy’s told me. “Shit food, shit conditions, everyone’s cold, wet, hungry, broke, and continually getting pissed when they’re not trying to drown that Billy Eliot kid. One time I even thought he was going to cry down the phone.”
Dom laughs, his sharp, angular face beaming. “What, a big butch guy like Andy?”
“He’s not that big! Well – in one department he most definitely is!” I wink lewdly at Dom whilst licking my spoon in a mock-seductive manner. Dom sniggers, almost dropping his own spoon.
Stretching out my legs under the table I try to rid myself of a bit of cramp that’s now attacking my right leg. It’s days like today that remind me of when I was in my early teens. Screaming children, weary adults, the sounds of shitty Christmas songs in every single shop I walked into, garish decorations and my mom complaining that she had spent too much again...it brings it home to me that I am missing my family terribly here in New Zealand.
Now here I am sitting in the same restaurant I was taken to as a treat after making love, and eating ice-cream, as I had done the day before Andy left for Prague.
Only this time it’s not the rich, chocolaty fudge sauce that’s responsible for making my heart feel as if it’s about to explode, but the thought of one sexy, amazing man.
A sexy, amazing man who encourages my cock to develop a mind of its own even from a couple thousand miles away on another continent. It was bad enough when he went out there to work on the film; but the tension is worse now that we’re now so close to the premiere of the first part of a film that has been our lives on 10th December. Not that I’m complaining; I’m looking forward to a holiday!
* * * * * * * * *
“This is a fucking tough shoot,” Andy told me over the phone, three weeks into the Prague filming. “Fucking winter in Prague is bad enough to shoot a trench warfare film in; but Michael’s decided to shoot most of the bloody film in heavy rain. We’re now up to our knees in mud, blood, real rats and ‘corpses’ and with sixty thousand litres of water pouring down on us every day.” Then his voice had softened. “I need you, darlin’; I need you or I’ll go mad. Christ, we’re out here for another four bloody weeks. I swear I’m losing it. Kris kissed me yesterday and I got a hard-on!”
“What about the others?” I’d asked, trying hard not to envisage Andy being kissed by lanky Kris Marshall, not least because I felt jealous. “Did they try and kiss you too?”
“Well, that Laurence is a weird –” He’d paused as if he were about to reveal a little too much information, before resuming. “All there is to do is getting pissed back at the hotel or using Jamie as a virgin sacrifice, the little sod. Even the make-up crew aren’t worth flirting with: they all have moustaches and huge mullets.”
That was when I’d completely lost it and started to laugh. “I heard that Czech women aren’t that particular about shaving.”
“Can you get out here, precious?” he’d asked then, almost pleading. “This coming week, if you can.”
* * * * * * * * *
That was Friday night. Before I’d gone to bed, I’d booked the cheapest and earliest flight possible, thanking God and Peter that I wasn’t required for the re-shoots and pick-ups for a while and that Andy was also briefly on hiatus from filming. For his own sanity!
I had hoped that Mom and Hannah would meet me briefly in LA as the flight was scheduled to stop there for a couple of hours before flying onto Paris and then Prague. Unfortunately, the timing was out as we were due to land in LA around two in the morning and I couldn’t see my baby sis dragging Mom out that time of night!
The hotel looked pleasant enough; then again, so does *any* hotel when it’s photographed against a clear blue sky. I’d found its website out of curiosity. Gazing at the artificial splendour of Prague’s spanking new Corinthia Towers Hotel, I wonder exactly how the fuck the producers were going to pay for it if they hadn’t paid the actors any per diems yet.
“You lucky, lucky bastard!" Dom’s voice brings me back to reality. “I mean, an all-expenses paid trip to Prague! And didn’t you say that he’s due back here for post production work in a few weeks’ time?”
Sometimes speaking to Dom is better than any personal organiser! I can never remember what I’m supposed to do in ten minutes’ time, let alone in a few weeks!
Andy says that one of the things he loves about me is the continual scattiness and the disorganised way in which I run my life. Personally I doubt his commitment to the rubbish mountain that’s currently taking up residence in my rented home, having seen him pick his way gingerly through the bottle bank, which doubles up as my kitchen in the mornings.
He jokes that he dreads visiting me after my nights with Dom, Billy, and Orlando, mostly at my suggestion. The kitchen and the living room both resemble the aftermath of the Battle of the Somme and I would emerge, bleary eyed, from the bedroom at about two in the afternoon, wrapped in a duvet and swearing that I was off drink “forever”. Until the next time…
After finishing off our beers and some delicious coffees, Dom and I split the check and head off into the bright winter sunshine.
Dom’s lips brush my cheek lightly. “I’ll speak to you soon, then?” He winks suggestively. “If you’re not too exhausted that is!”
“Whatever do you mean?” I retort, all mock innocence and wide eyes as I return the kiss.
We walk arm-in-arm up the crowded street, giggling and side-stepping the hordes of people before going our separate ways.
*********
I hadn’t expected Andy to call so early.
I’m in the throes of cutting my hair, as in my super-efficient way I’d forgotten to book an appointment to get it done professionally. So there I am, kneeling on the sheepskin rug – the scene of so many a shag with Andy – and trying to trim the back of my hair whilst balancing the phone in the crook of my neck and eating a microwaved Thai chicken curry that tastes of puke.
“What are you wearing, babe?”
Fuck! His voice is incredibly sexy, silky, and seductive, like warm water running over pebbles.
“My tee-shirt that says ‘”You’re Just Jealous Because The Voices Are Talking To Me. Complete with curry stains,” I add quickly.
Andy chuckles. I imagine his eyes crinkling up at the edges, making him look like a cheeky imp. “Bloody hell, darlin’! You really know how to get a man turned on, don’t you!”
“Why? What did you expect me to be wearing?” I put down the scissors. “See-through crotchless harem pants and a matching thong?”
There is a sharp intake of breath down the phone.
“Now that’s more like it!” Andy says.
I never know when he’s kidding or not.
“If you’re good, I might just wear that over the weekend!” I giggle. “Dom, Billy, and I went into that gay adult shop in town today. The one Ian was raving about. I got a couple of other things as well!”
“You mean your best friends know what you’re going to be wearing when I fuck you senseless tomorrow? That’s kinky! And what about these ‘*other things*’?” he laughs. “Still –” His voice lowers almost to a whisper, making the hairs on my body tingle with excitement. “I’d fuck you if you were wearing that tatty old tee-shirt with curry stains.”
“Ooh, I’ll bring it with me!”
I laugh, but Andy isn’t laughing any more.
“I’m missing you so much it hurts,” he sighs. “This place is so awful, I would’ve been doin’ some serious damage if you hadn’t been able to get over here. I hate it! *hate it!”
I want to hug him. I want to take him in my arms and hold him. I want to pull him close to my body and feel my fingers in his mop of unruly curls. I want to kiss his wide, soft mouth. I want to look into his mesmerising blue eyes and marvel at their framing long, dark lashes. I want to be with him, touch his skin, feel his heart beating against me. I want to feel him inside me, moving gently at first before thrusting harder and faster, making me gasp and cry out with force. I want to be on my knees taking the full length of him in my mouth, caressing his thickness with my tongue. I want *his* tongue on me, licking, sucking and lapping at my cock.
I’m hot, hard, and ready for him. I want him now. God! I miss him so much.
Looking down, I see that my leg is now covered with cold and congealing curry sauce...
*******
Prague
His kisses are hot, tender, passionate, and urgent. I’m trying to maintain some semblance of breath control, but am failing fast. I pull away momentarily for a gasp of air.
Andy has *other* ideas.
“C’m ‘ere!” he growls huskily, planting his mouth firmly back on mine. His hands are all over my body and in my hair.
In the early morning Prague winter sun, he looks tired. He is wearing a grey flecked jumper over a light grey tee-shirt and black jeans. The colour makes his pale skin look almost translucent. There are dark circles under the wide, blue eyes now gazing at me with such love and tenderness. His cheek could grate Parmesan with its hard, emerging stubble, as he hasn’t had time to shave. His hair is a wonderful tangle of dark, unruly curls.
Fuck! He may be tired, but he looks so damned sexy! I stare at him hungrily, drinking in the vision of masculinity before me.
Even in the cab back to the hotel, we can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s been three weeks since we touched. Three long, tedious weeks.
*******
With its impressive two towers, but without the added bonus of tripping over a hobbit or experiencing a vision of Gandalf the White and his pointy hat, the Corinthia Towers Hotel looks glorious enough.
But our main concern is getting up to Andy’s room. The lift can’t move quickly enough for us as we start to pull at each other’s clothing: by the time we get into Andy’s room we’re both practically undressed.
Tossing our clothes onto the floor, my bag abandoned by the door, I soon find myself sitting on top of him astride his body, kissing his neck and chest. He returns the favour by caressing my back, thighs, and ass. I want him inside me so badly that there’ll be little need for much foreplay...
His hands are around my waist as he watches me ride him. His well-lubed cock is completely sheathed inside my ass. The only sounds are the sucking motion of our thrusting and the low grunts and groans from our throats.
“Fucking Christ!” Andy moans as his hips thrust harder against mine. My breathing grows increasingly rapid. “That’s it, sweetheart! That’s it, my darlin’! My little Precious!”
I’m grinding my hips harder against his now, feeling the length of him inside me. My cock is throbbing and my thighs ache from straddling him – but it’s fucking glorious!
“Fuck me!” I groan. “Fuck me, please!” My hands are rubbing his soft, dark chest hair and nipples as he strokes and fondles my ass, moving his hands around to cup the cheeks or reaching up to finger my hard nipples.
When I come, he lets me enjoy my moment first – the rush of blood to my head, the paused gasp of breath, my eyes half-closed as I arch my back. My sphincter muscles tighten around his cock, and then relax so as to allow him his pleasure.
Cupping my ass with his comforting hands, he holds me firmly in place before thrusting faster into me. I feel the rush of his orgasm as he empties himself into me, crying out as his grip on me tightens. “OHMYGODJESUSFUCKINGHRIST!”
It’s over too quickly for both of us. I lie against him, completely engulfed in his arms, whilst Andy strokes and kisses my hair. It takes a while for our breathing to regulate. Our bodies are covered in a fine film of sweat. I can smell him on me – that strong, musky, masculine scent of his.
“How are you?” he chuckles, the sound from deep in his throat. “Did you have a good flight?”
I resist the urge to actually thump him for bringing up such a mundane subject and tweak his nipple lightly instead. “It was okay; couldn’t tell as I was half asleep!” I tweak harder.
“Ouch!” He grins his mischievous wide grin. “I’m glad I woke you up, then!”
“Mmm, I’ll say!” I snuggle up closer, closing my eyes, feeling his warm breath on me. It feels wonderful to be held by him after all this time; just to be close to him makes me feel complete.
“This is what I’ve missed,” he tells me, his voice vibrating in my hair. “You an’ me, like this!”
“You’re surviving New Zealand,” I remind him. “Even goin’ back for the re-shoots isn’t putting you off.”
“Yeah, well, New Zealand isn’t exactly Prague in winter, is it? This is just a fucking awful shoot. ‘Rings’ is – well, different!”
“What – like you get chocolate Oreos instead of those custard cream cookies with your tea?” I giggle, knowing full well what Andy is on about.
The filming in New Zealand has been an entirely different experience. It’s like one big happy family and I felt at ease as soon as I got there.
This shoot for the horror movie sounds terrible. I’d guessed that Andy’s drunken phone calls at 2am, professing his love for me in slurred tones, were out of loneliness and despair, even if we’d only spoken a couple of hours beforehand.
“Am I going to be introduced to the rest of the boys, then?” I ask.
“Darlin’!” Andy strokes my shoulder, tracing a line from my collarbone. “They would go mad if they saw a pretty face. Besides,” he adds, pulling me closer still. “I’m taking you out for dinner tonight. Until then –”
He grins his dirtiest grin as he rolls me under him, pulling open my thighs. So much for catching up on sleep!
*******
I only realise how hungry I am when we’re both seated in a restaurant overlooking the Prague Theatre, where Andy pointed out that Mozart’s opera “Don Giovanni” had been premiered. Cool stuff! The chocolate box splendour of the theatre and the surrounding buildings was a stark contrast to the hi-tech architecture that of the Corinthia Towers.
“I wanted to take you somewhere more off the beaten track,” Andy tells me. Or rather he wanted to take me somewhere we wouldn’t run into the other guys and be dragged off to some illegal drinking bar!
He looks particularly gorgeous tonight, dressed in a black, flecked suit and a red shirt that he picked up in New Zealand. Not that the suit will remain on for long once we get back to the hotel room, of course. I want to peel it off him as slowly as possible, relishing each and every bit of him.
Aside from all the soup and dumplings, I order a fish dish while Andy goes straight for a bowl of what looks like mixed vegetables and noodles. The wine is cheap and plentiful. I can see why Andy and his co-stars get drunk most nights.
I finish off the basket of bread quite quickly.
“Bloody hell, Elijah!” Andy’s blue eyes widen. “You hungry or something?”
Apart from the food on the flights and the shag-break sandwich from room service, it seemed that I haven’t eaten for days. Needless to say, the waiter brings more bread and as I grab a slice, Andy’s hand grips my wrist as he grins devilishly at me. “I see I’m going to have work those calories off you, babe!”
“It’s more fun than going to the gym!” I grin back, placing a playful dab of butter on his nose before leaning forward and licking it off. “Mm – I wonder if we can get room service to bring up some butter when we get back!” I murmur. “It tastes nicer licked off you.”
“As long as it’s unsalted!” chuckles Andy throatily as he places a gentle kiss on my lips. “I really love you, Precious! You’re totally deranged!”
“You love me *because* I’m deranged? Or is it my cooking that makes you lurve me?” This is a standing joke between us. My cooking skills. Or, rather, lack of same.
“What? Sticking a frozen ready-made meal into a microwave?” he laughs.
“Hey!” I prod him playfully. “I use the oven as well!”
“And the phone! I bet you got that Thai takeaway on speed-dial!”
“I’ll have you know that I’m on first name terms with that take-out! They give me free extra noodles and fries when I order now!”
“I’m surprised they haven’t given you a ‘Valued Customer’ discount yet!”
“Ah, now that –!”
I don’t have time to finish as he kisses me again, softly taking his time to taste my lips. There are no tongues. He licks around my lips before gently kissing them.
I want us to go back to the hotel now as I feel that familiar warmth beginning to spread between my legs. I know Andy is feeling it too: his breathing has quickened its pace.
The moment is interrupted by the waiter bringing our food. It looks delicious and I attack the fish stew with a vengeance.
“You never cease to amaze me, darlin’!” Andy shakes his head. “I mean, who else would eat a bowl of chilli before a visit to the cinema and then three-quarters of a family bucket of popcorn?”
“Hollow legs!” I mumble through a mouthful of stew. “I love my food!”
“There is a correlation between liking food and liking sex…” Andy forks up some of his noodles and grins mischievously.
“That figures!” I reply. “I’m a fan of both! Especially when one follows the other!”
“I noticed!” Andy laughs as he leans over and wipes a dribble of stew from my mouth with his napkin. “You’re a mucky pup, sometimes; I can’t take you anywhere!”
I notice the waiter wheeling the dessert trolley to the table next to ours. It is piled high with pastries and cakes of every size and flavour. “Oooh! I want one of those chocolate pastries stuffed with strawberries and cream!” I exclaim, my voice muffled by bread and fish and aromatic sauces.
Andy laughs as he takes a sip of wine. “I’ve got a better idea!” He leans forward and whispers in my ear. “I just fancy something a *bit* more special for dessert!” he says seductively, breathing heavily into my ear. “If you get my meaning... I need you tonight, darlin’!”
I *do* get his meaning and the meal turns into an imitation of the dining scene in “Tom Jones”. All that’s missing are the chicken legs and the obligatory lobster being torn apart in a sexual frenzy.
********
We don’t venture out of the hotel for the rest of our time together. Room service run back and forth as we can’t be bothered with leaving the room to go and eat. The maids leave clean towels outside the door and reception are given instructions not to disturb us with members of the cast trying to get hold of Andy.
And strictly no phone-calls.
Poor, gullible Jamie gets through unwittingly – most probably after much goading from the others – and Andy threatens to hang him upside down from the top of the hotel by one of his balls.
He squeaks his apologies and hangs up rapidly.
“You’re really too hard on the poor guy!” I tell him as we lie together in the bath after a particularly sweaty session.
Andy chortles at the incongruity of this pompous remark from someone not all that much older than Jamie. “You don’t have to work with him!” he guffaws as he runs his hands through my wet hair and brushes it away from my face.
“Yeah, but he’s only a kid. Go easy on him, Andy, please!”
He laughs as he wraps his arms around me. “I can’t deny you anything, can I?” and chuckles more as he splashes water on me, prompting a *very* satisfying water fight…
*******
Wellington – home again
My telephone is ringing as I enter my place, early in the evening. Groggy with jet lag I struggle through the door with my bag and, stepping on the post, I drop everything to answer it.
“Missing you already, darlin’,” Andy tells me. “But at least I’ve stopped wanting to kick the shit out of the producers and using Jamie as target practice.”
“I bet *he* was ecstatic,” I remark wryly.
“He is! I even let him play with my club!”
I laugh. No-one plays with Andy's club, a lethal looking weapon which he wields in the film. Well. Not if they wanted to remain in one piece.
“And if he misbehaves, I've still got those handcuffs you bought over!” Andy laughs. “Not sure about the pink fluffy bits, though!”
“Oh my God! I can’t imagine where the poor kid will end up wearing those!” Suddenly the image of a furious-looking Andy cuffing Jamie Bell to a Prague lamp-post springs to mind.
Needless to say, I’d left Andy back in Prague a happier, more relaxed man than he was when I’d arrived and he’s chatting away nineteen to the dozen on the phone, mostly about the planned post-production work back in New Zealand for “Lord Of The Rings”.
“So; what are you up to now?” he asks.
I yawn. “Unpack, bath, then something to eat.”
“Wish I was there with you, babe!” he tells me sadly.
“Oh come on! You’ve just had me all to yourself!”
“‘Had’ being the operative word!” He laughs his dirty laugh again and the sound vibrates erotically against my ear. “I’m exhausted – not to mention that I’ve found muscles I didn’t know existed!”
“Well, consider it practice for next time, then!” I giggle.
******
The phone rings again at 2am the following morning. Groping for the telephone by my bed, I mumble a half coherent “hello” into the receiver.
It’s Andy.
“You doin’ anything next week, Elijah?”
In the background I hear the cries of a screeching adolescent disappearing into the distance, with what sounds like a stampede of cattle in pursuit and male voices shouting in unison: “Go Billy! Go!”
“An’ bring some more handcuffs. We’ll be needing them for the producers!”
I suddenly jolt upright in bed. “Andy! What have you done?!”
~ The End – or is it? :-) ~
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Author:
precious_rosieType: RPS AU
Series: Deathwatch
Pairing: Andy Serkis/Elijah Wood
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Set during the filming of both LOTR and Deathwatch. On a rare hiatus from their respective films, Elijah visits Andy in Prague. From Elijah’s POV.
Disclaimer: Lies! All lies I tell you! Artistic licence has been plastered on!
Warning: Fluff, but if RPS ain’t your thing, don’t read it.
Beta:
shy_nerthuserceFeedback: is welcomed
Archive: Manly Men
Author’s Note: Originally written in April 2003. Revised August 2005. The time to travel from New Zealand to Prague would probably take 34 hours or so and this is taken in to account. Also, Condotti’s Pizzeria is actually in Conduit Street, London and an old haunt of mine. I moved it to Wellington for this fic. There may well be a Condotti’s Pizzeria in Wellington…!
x-posted to
rockabillyblue woodlust“So, you’ve been summoned then?” Dom’s large eyes are fixed on one of the two desserts being carried by the waiter as he displays some nifty swerving tactics in order to avoid either being crushed by Christmas shoppers weighed down with bags or run over by their pushchairs and hobbit-sized children getting to their tables.
“You could say that!” I reply with faux languidness as the waiter sets the desserts down in front of us.
“Oooh, chocolate sauce as well!” Dom starts to attack the plate of ice-cream and sauce with enthusiasm. “I tell you, mate” he continues, “if I had a bloke like that waiting for me in another country, I wouldn’t be sitting here eating pizza and ice cream with my best mate! I’d be on the first flight over to Prague!”
I smile. “I am, on the first flight out tomorrow; 6:15 in the fucking morning! Thank you Pete for a free schedule this week!”
Dom goes quiet and eats more dessert. “So he’s having a really rough time out there?”
I nod, remembering the horror stories that Andy’s told me. “Shit food, shit conditions, everyone’s cold, wet, hungry, broke, and continually getting pissed when they’re not trying to drown that Billy Eliot kid. One time I even thought he was going to cry down the phone.”
Dom laughs, his sharp, angular face beaming. “What, a big butch guy like Andy?”
“He’s not that big! Well – in one department he most definitely is!” I wink lewdly at Dom whilst licking my spoon in a mock-seductive manner. Dom sniggers, almost dropping his own spoon.
Stretching out my legs under the table I try to rid myself of a bit of cramp that’s now attacking my right leg. It’s days like today that remind me of when I was in my early teens. Screaming children, weary adults, the sounds of shitty Christmas songs in every single shop I walked into, garish decorations and my mom complaining that she had spent too much again...it brings it home to me that I am missing my family terribly here in New Zealand.
Now here I am sitting in the same restaurant I was taken to as a treat after making love, and eating ice-cream, as I had done the day before Andy left for Prague.
Only this time it’s not the rich, chocolaty fudge sauce that’s responsible for making my heart feel as if it’s about to explode, but the thought of one sexy, amazing man.
A sexy, amazing man who encourages my cock to develop a mind of its own even from a couple thousand miles away on another continent. It was bad enough when he went out there to work on the film; but the tension is worse now that we’re now so close to the premiere of the first part of a film that has been our lives on 10th December. Not that I’m complaining; I’m looking forward to a holiday!
* * * * * * * * *
“This is a fucking tough shoot,” Andy told me over the phone, three weeks into the Prague filming. “Fucking winter in Prague is bad enough to shoot a trench warfare film in; but Michael’s decided to shoot most of the bloody film in heavy rain. We’re now up to our knees in mud, blood, real rats and ‘corpses’ and with sixty thousand litres of water pouring down on us every day.” Then his voice had softened. “I need you, darlin’; I need you or I’ll go mad. Christ, we’re out here for another four bloody weeks. I swear I’m losing it. Kris kissed me yesterday and I got a hard-on!”
“What about the others?” I’d asked, trying hard not to envisage Andy being kissed by lanky Kris Marshall, not least because I felt jealous. “Did they try and kiss you too?”
“Well, that Laurence is a weird –” He’d paused as if he were about to reveal a little too much information, before resuming. “All there is to do is getting pissed back at the hotel or using Jamie as a virgin sacrifice, the little sod. Even the make-up crew aren’t worth flirting with: they all have moustaches and huge mullets.”
That was when I’d completely lost it and started to laugh. “I heard that Czech women aren’t that particular about shaving.”
“Can you get out here, precious?” he’d asked then, almost pleading. “This coming week, if you can.”
* * * * * * * * *
That was Friday night. Before I’d gone to bed, I’d booked the cheapest and earliest flight possible, thanking God and Peter that I wasn’t required for the re-shoots and pick-ups for a while and that Andy was also briefly on hiatus from filming. For his own sanity!
I had hoped that Mom and Hannah would meet me briefly in LA as the flight was scheduled to stop there for a couple of hours before flying onto Paris and then Prague. Unfortunately, the timing was out as we were due to land in LA around two in the morning and I couldn’t see my baby sis dragging Mom out that time of night!
The hotel looked pleasant enough; then again, so does *any* hotel when it’s photographed against a clear blue sky. I’d found its website out of curiosity. Gazing at the artificial splendour of Prague’s spanking new Corinthia Towers Hotel, I wonder exactly how the fuck the producers were going to pay for it if they hadn’t paid the actors any per diems yet.
“You lucky, lucky bastard!" Dom’s voice brings me back to reality. “I mean, an all-expenses paid trip to Prague! And didn’t you say that he’s due back here for post production work in a few weeks’ time?”
Sometimes speaking to Dom is better than any personal organiser! I can never remember what I’m supposed to do in ten minutes’ time, let alone in a few weeks!
Andy says that one of the things he loves about me is the continual scattiness and the disorganised way in which I run my life. Personally I doubt his commitment to the rubbish mountain that’s currently taking up residence in my rented home, having seen him pick his way gingerly through the bottle bank, which doubles up as my kitchen in the mornings.
He jokes that he dreads visiting me after my nights with Dom, Billy, and Orlando, mostly at my suggestion. The kitchen and the living room both resemble the aftermath of the Battle of the Somme and I would emerge, bleary eyed, from the bedroom at about two in the afternoon, wrapped in a duvet and swearing that I was off drink “forever”. Until the next time…
After finishing off our beers and some delicious coffees, Dom and I split the check and head off into the bright winter sunshine.
Dom’s lips brush my cheek lightly. “I’ll speak to you soon, then?” He winks suggestively. “If you’re not too exhausted that is!”
“Whatever do you mean?” I retort, all mock innocence and wide eyes as I return the kiss.
We walk arm-in-arm up the crowded street, giggling and side-stepping the hordes of people before going our separate ways.
*********
I hadn’t expected Andy to call so early.
I’m in the throes of cutting my hair, as in my super-efficient way I’d forgotten to book an appointment to get it done professionally. So there I am, kneeling on the sheepskin rug – the scene of so many a shag with Andy – and trying to trim the back of my hair whilst balancing the phone in the crook of my neck and eating a microwaved Thai chicken curry that tastes of puke.
“What are you wearing, babe?”
Fuck! His voice is incredibly sexy, silky, and seductive, like warm water running over pebbles.
“My tee-shirt that says ‘”You’re Just Jealous Because The Voices Are Talking To Me. Complete with curry stains,” I add quickly.
Andy chuckles. I imagine his eyes crinkling up at the edges, making him look like a cheeky imp. “Bloody hell, darlin’! You really know how to get a man turned on, don’t you!”
“Why? What did you expect me to be wearing?” I put down the scissors. “See-through crotchless harem pants and a matching thong?”
There is a sharp intake of breath down the phone.
“Now that’s more like it!” Andy says.
I never know when he’s kidding or not.
“If you’re good, I might just wear that over the weekend!” I giggle. “Dom, Billy, and I went into that gay adult shop in town today. The one Ian was raving about. I got a couple of other things as well!”
“You mean your best friends know what you’re going to be wearing when I fuck you senseless tomorrow? That’s kinky! And what about these ‘*other things*’?” he laughs. “Still –” His voice lowers almost to a whisper, making the hairs on my body tingle with excitement. “I’d fuck you if you were wearing that tatty old tee-shirt with curry stains.”
“Ooh, I’ll bring it with me!”
I laugh, but Andy isn’t laughing any more.
“I’m missing you so much it hurts,” he sighs. “This place is so awful, I would’ve been doin’ some serious damage if you hadn’t been able to get over here. I hate it! *hate it!”
I want to hug him. I want to take him in my arms and hold him. I want to pull him close to my body and feel my fingers in his mop of unruly curls. I want to kiss his wide, soft mouth. I want to look into his mesmerising blue eyes and marvel at their framing long, dark lashes. I want to be with him, touch his skin, feel his heart beating against me. I want to feel him inside me, moving gently at first before thrusting harder and faster, making me gasp and cry out with force. I want to be on my knees taking the full length of him in my mouth, caressing his thickness with my tongue. I want *his* tongue on me, licking, sucking and lapping at my cock.
I’m hot, hard, and ready for him. I want him now. God! I miss him so much.
Looking down, I see that my leg is now covered with cold and congealing curry sauce...
*******
Prague
His kisses are hot, tender, passionate, and urgent. I’m trying to maintain some semblance of breath control, but am failing fast. I pull away momentarily for a gasp of air.
Andy has *other* ideas.
“C’m ‘ere!” he growls huskily, planting his mouth firmly back on mine. His hands are all over my body and in my hair.
In the early morning Prague winter sun, he looks tired. He is wearing a grey flecked jumper over a light grey tee-shirt and black jeans. The colour makes his pale skin look almost translucent. There are dark circles under the wide, blue eyes now gazing at me with such love and tenderness. His cheek could grate Parmesan with its hard, emerging stubble, as he hasn’t had time to shave. His hair is a wonderful tangle of dark, unruly curls.
Fuck! He may be tired, but he looks so damned sexy! I stare at him hungrily, drinking in the vision of masculinity before me.
Even in the cab back to the hotel, we can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s been three weeks since we touched. Three long, tedious weeks.
*******
With its impressive two towers, but without the added bonus of tripping over a hobbit or experiencing a vision of Gandalf the White and his pointy hat, the Corinthia Towers Hotel looks glorious enough.
But our main concern is getting up to Andy’s room. The lift can’t move quickly enough for us as we start to pull at each other’s clothing: by the time we get into Andy’s room we’re both practically undressed.
Tossing our clothes onto the floor, my bag abandoned by the door, I soon find myself sitting on top of him astride his body, kissing his neck and chest. He returns the favour by caressing my back, thighs, and ass. I want him inside me so badly that there’ll be little need for much foreplay...
His hands are around my waist as he watches me ride him. His well-lubed cock is completely sheathed inside my ass. The only sounds are the sucking motion of our thrusting and the low grunts and groans from our throats.
“Fucking Christ!” Andy moans as his hips thrust harder against mine. My breathing grows increasingly rapid. “That’s it, sweetheart! That’s it, my darlin’! My little Precious!”
I’m grinding my hips harder against his now, feeling the length of him inside me. My cock is throbbing and my thighs ache from straddling him – but it’s fucking glorious!
“Fuck me!” I groan. “Fuck me, please!” My hands are rubbing his soft, dark chest hair and nipples as he strokes and fondles my ass, moving his hands around to cup the cheeks or reaching up to finger my hard nipples.
When I come, he lets me enjoy my moment first – the rush of blood to my head, the paused gasp of breath, my eyes half-closed as I arch my back. My sphincter muscles tighten around his cock, and then relax so as to allow him his pleasure.
Cupping my ass with his comforting hands, he holds me firmly in place before thrusting faster into me. I feel the rush of his orgasm as he empties himself into me, crying out as his grip on me tightens. “OHMYGODJESUSFUCKINGHRIST!”
It’s over too quickly for both of us. I lie against him, completely engulfed in his arms, whilst Andy strokes and kisses my hair. It takes a while for our breathing to regulate. Our bodies are covered in a fine film of sweat. I can smell him on me – that strong, musky, masculine scent of his.
“How are you?” he chuckles, the sound from deep in his throat. “Did you have a good flight?”
I resist the urge to actually thump him for bringing up such a mundane subject and tweak his nipple lightly instead. “It was okay; couldn’t tell as I was half asleep!” I tweak harder.
“Ouch!” He grins his mischievous wide grin. “I’m glad I woke you up, then!”
“Mmm, I’ll say!” I snuggle up closer, closing my eyes, feeling his warm breath on me. It feels wonderful to be held by him after all this time; just to be close to him makes me feel complete.
“This is what I’ve missed,” he tells me, his voice vibrating in my hair. “You an’ me, like this!”
“You’re surviving New Zealand,” I remind him. “Even goin’ back for the re-shoots isn’t putting you off.”
“Yeah, well, New Zealand isn’t exactly Prague in winter, is it? This is just a fucking awful shoot. ‘Rings’ is – well, different!”
“What – like you get chocolate Oreos instead of those custard cream cookies with your tea?” I giggle, knowing full well what Andy is on about.
The filming in New Zealand has been an entirely different experience. It’s like one big happy family and I felt at ease as soon as I got there.
This shoot for the horror movie sounds terrible. I’d guessed that Andy’s drunken phone calls at 2am, professing his love for me in slurred tones, were out of loneliness and despair, even if we’d only spoken a couple of hours beforehand.
“Am I going to be introduced to the rest of the boys, then?” I ask.
“Darlin’!” Andy strokes my shoulder, tracing a line from my collarbone. “They would go mad if they saw a pretty face. Besides,” he adds, pulling me closer still. “I’m taking you out for dinner tonight. Until then –”
He grins his dirtiest grin as he rolls me under him, pulling open my thighs. So much for catching up on sleep!
*******
I only realise how hungry I am when we’re both seated in a restaurant overlooking the Prague Theatre, where Andy pointed out that Mozart’s opera “Don Giovanni” had been premiered. Cool stuff! The chocolate box splendour of the theatre and the surrounding buildings was a stark contrast to the hi-tech architecture that of the Corinthia Towers.
“I wanted to take you somewhere more off the beaten track,” Andy tells me. Or rather he wanted to take me somewhere we wouldn’t run into the other guys and be dragged off to some illegal drinking bar!
He looks particularly gorgeous tonight, dressed in a black, flecked suit and a red shirt that he picked up in New Zealand. Not that the suit will remain on for long once we get back to the hotel room, of course. I want to peel it off him as slowly as possible, relishing each and every bit of him.
Aside from all the soup and dumplings, I order a fish dish while Andy goes straight for a bowl of what looks like mixed vegetables and noodles. The wine is cheap and plentiful. I can see why Andy and his co-stars get drunk most nights.
I finish off the basket of bread quite quickly.
“Bloody hell, Elijah!” Andy’s blue eyes widen. “You hungry or something?”
Apart from the food on the flights and the shag-break sandwich from room service, it seemed that I haven’t eaten for days. Needless to say, the waiter brings more bread and as I grab a slice, Andy’s hand grips my wrist as he grins devilishly at me. “I see I’m going to have work those calories off you, babe!”
“It’s more fun than going to the gym!” I grin back, placing a playful dab of butter on his nose before leaning forward and licking it off. “Mm – I wonder if we can get room service to bring up some butter when we get back!” I murmur. “It tastes nicer licked off you.”
“As long as it’s unsalted!” chuckles Andy throatily as he places a gentle kiss on my lips. “I really love you, Precious! You’re totally deranged!”
“You love me *because* I’m deranged? Or is it my cooking that makes you lurve me?” This is a standing joke between us. My cooking skills. Or, rather, lack of same.
“What? Sticking a frozen ready-made meal into a microwave?” he laughs.
“Hey!” I prod him playfully. “I use the oven as well!”
“And the phone! I bet you got that Thai takeaway on speed-dial!”
“I’ll have you know that I’m on first name terms with that take-out! They give me free extra noodles and fries when I order now!”
“I’m surprised they haven’t given you a ‘Valued Customer’ discount yet!”
“Ah, now that –!”
I don’t have time to finish as he kisses me again, softly taking his time to taste my lips. There are no tongues. He licks around my lips before gently kissing them.
I want us to go back to the hotel now as I feel that familiar warmth beginning to spread between my legs. I know Andy is feeling it too: his breathing has quickened its pace.
The moment is interrupted by the waiter bringing our food. It looks delicious and I attack the fish stew with a vengeance.
“You never cease to amaze me, darlin’!” Andy shakes his head. “I mean, who else would eat a bowl of chilli before a visit to the cinema and then three-quarters of a family bucket of popcorn?”
“Hollow legs!” I mumble through a mouthful of stew. “I love my food!”
“There is a correlation between liking food and liking sex…” Andy forks up some of his noodles and grins mischievously.
“That figures!” I reply. “I’m a fan of both! Especially when one follows the other!”
“I noticed!” Andy laughs as he leans over and wipes a dribble of stew from my mouth with his napkin. “You’re a mucky pup, sometimes; I can’t take you anywhere!”
I notice the waiter wheeling the dessert trolley to the table next to ours. It is piled high with pastries and cakes of every size and flavour. “Oooh! I want one of those chocolate pastries stuffed with strawberries and cream!” I exclaim, my voice muffled by bread and fish and aromatic sauces.
Andy laughs as he takes a sip of wine. “I’ve got a better idea!” He leans forward and whispers in my ear. “I just fancy something a *bit* more special for dessert!” he says seductively, breathing heavily into my ear. “If you get my meaning... I need you tonight, darlin’!”
I *do* get his meaning and the meal turns into an imitation of the dining scene in “Tom Jones”. All that’s missing are the chicken legs and the obligatory lobster being torn apart in a sexual frenzy.
********
We don’t venture out of the hotel for the rest of our time together. Room service run back and forth as we can’t be bothered with leaving the room to go and eat. The maids leave clean towels outside the door and reception are given instructions not to disturb us with members of the cast trying to get hold of Andy.
And strictly no phone-calls.
Poor, gullible Jamie gets through unwittingly – most probably after much goading from the others – and Andy threatens to hang him upside down from the top of the hotel by one of his balls.
He squeaks his apologies and hangs up rapidly.
“You’re really too hard on the poor guy!” I tell him as we lie together in the bath after a particularly sweaty session.
Andy chortles at the incongruity of this pompous remark from someone not all that much older than Jamie. “You don’t have to work with him!” he guffaws as he runs his hands through my wet hair and brushes it away from my face.
“Yeah, but he’s only a kid. Go easy on him, Andy, please!”
He laughs as he wraps his arms around me. “I can’t deny you anything, can I?” and chuckles more as he splashes water on me, prompting a *very* satisfying water fight…
*******
Wellington – home again
My telephone is ringing as I enter my place, early in the evening. Groggy with jet lag I struggle through the door with my bag and, stepping on the post, I drop everything to answer it.
“Missing you already, darlin’,” Andy tells me. “But at least I’ve stopped wanting to kick the shit out of the producers and using Jamie as target practice.”
“I bet *he* was ecstatic,” I remark wryly.
“He is! I even let him play with my club!”
I laugh. No-one plays with Andy's club, a lethal looking weapon which he wields in the film. Well. Not if they wanted to remain in one piece.
“And if he misbehaves, I've still got those handcuffs you bought over!” Andy laughs. “Not sure about the pink fluffy bits, though!”
“Oh my God! I can’t imagine where the poor kid will end up wearing those!” Suddenly the image of a furious-looking Andy cuffing Jamie Bell to a Prague lamp-post springs to mind.
Needless to say, I’d left Andy back in Prague a happier, more relaxed man than he was when I’d arrived and he’s chatting away nineteen to the dozen on the phone, mostly about the planned post-production work back in New Zealand for “Lord Of The Rings”.
“So; what are you up to now?” he asks.
I yawn. “Unpack, bath, then something to eat.”
“Wish I was there with you, babe!” he tells me sadly.
“Oh come on! You’ve just had me all to yourself!”
“‘Had’ being the operative word!” He laughs his dirty laugh again and the sound vibrates erotically against my ear. “I’m exhausted – not to mention that I’ve found muscles I didn’t know existed!”
“Well, consider it practice for next time, then!” I giggle.
******
The phone rings again at 2am the following morning. Groping for the telephone by my bed, I mumble a half coherent “hello” into the receiver.
It’s Andy.
“You doin’ anything next week, Elijah?”
In the background I hear the cries of a screeching adolescent disappearing into the distance, with what sounds like a stampede of cattle in pursuit and male voices shouting in unison: “Go Billy! Go!”
“An’ bring some more handcuffs. We’ll be needing them for the producers!”
I suddenly jolt upright in bed. “Andy! What have you done?!”
~ The End – or is it? :-) ~
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