FIC: The Captain's Boy [REVISED] - (8/14) - Andy Serkis/Elijah Wood - NC-17

[precious-rosie.livejournal.com]

Title: The Captain’s Boy [Revised]
Author: precious_rosie
Series: 8/14
Pairing: Andy Serkis/Elijah Wood.
Type: RPS AU
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Total fiction, from the depths of my imagination.
Summary: Set in mid 1880's, Elijah is working in a high- class male brothel. The madame has fixed him up with a very special client.
Warning[s]: prostitution,
Feedback: is like nector.
Beta: shy_nerthuserce as always. *hugs* :-)
Archive: Mirrormere, various LOTR RPS Yahoo group
Author’s note: This is a story that I started back in April 2003 and it received high praise. Sadly thanks to that awful thing called “real life , I’ve still got to complete it, along with several other projects. Perhaps this LJ is the kick up the backside I need!
Author's note 2: Daniel Radcliffe and Tom Felton from Harry Potter films make their debut in this chapter, alongside another familiar face! *bg*

x-posted to rockabillyblue

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven


The journey back to No 20 Hanover Square was the worst that Elijah could ever have imagined.

For the past week he had been cosseted, petted and cherished by the man he loved; he had been worshipped and adored. Elijah had been completely his. But now that it was all over, it was as though the holiday had never taken place at all and was no more than an opium dream...

The boat trip at Weston had been a revelation – in more ways than one! To their surprise, as they stepped on-board the pleasure boat Elijah and his Captain had met Sir Ian, who was being accompanied on a short break by Hans.

Dressed in a navy blue fitted dress with a wide sailor collar and an equally wide straw boater, Hans was the perfect complement to Elijah, who was wearing his little sailor suit. Both boys were delighted by the chance meeting and rushed to hug each other – and after Sir Ian and Captain Serkis had exchanged more restrained cordial greetings, the little group spent the four-hour trip walking the decks of the boat and taking in the warm sea air.

“Orlando will be spittin’ fevvers when ‘e finds out ‘oo’s wiv Sir Ian on this little jolly,” giggled Elijah as the breeze ruffled his curls prettily.

Hans grinned. “So who’s going to break the sad news?” Hans was, in Orlando’s eyes, his main rival for Sir Ian’s affections. “It’ll be pouts from now till next Christmas!”

“Now, children...” Sir Ian’s naughty blue eyes twinkled. “Don’t tease Orlando so! Or you will be punished!”

Hans and Elijah exchanged grins and Hans winked at the younger boy. “As you wish, Uncle Ian.”

But Elijah understood. Orlando, the easiest of the whores to tease, was the butt of Dominic and Billy’s jokes and most of Hans’ venom was reserved for him, causing the petulant whore to flounce up to his room in a sulk on more than one occasion. To Hans, Orlando’s presence at the brothel was in itself a huge joke, and he made no secret of his feelings. The boy had been spoilt and cosseted by his clients, unlike the rest of them who had all worked the streets and risked its dangers prior to arriving at the brothel.

Hans was by no means callous; indeed, he was a kind, warm-hearted young man who kept an eye out for the younger boys and protected them; despite Hans’ feminine appearance and his ability to appear more feminine than some real women, he was in fact the most masculine of men when he needed to be. However unfair it may have seemed to outsiders, Hans felt that Orlando hadn’t experienced the “real life” struggles the rest of them had and resented Orlando’s assumed airs and graces. Orlando was the bastard son of a well-known actress and a well-known politician, a stigma that he had spent his life trying to cover up. The fact that everyone knew about him only made it worse.

***********

“You picked a good ‘un there!” Hans observed, drawing on a thin cheroot as he nodded at Andrew. “First timer?”

Elijah nodded, smiling with adoration in Andrew’s direction.

Hans drew in his breath between his teeth. “A stayer too, I reckon,” he mused. “Treats you well, I hope?” His quick glance over Elijah’s flawless complexion soon confirmed this.

Again Elijah smiled and nodded. “Only when I need it.” he winked knowingly.

“So you like that, eh?” Hans chuckled.

Elijah giggled, blushing. “Oh yes!”

Elijah trusted Hans’s judgement and respected him as much as he did Madame Louise. Hans had been one of the original boys in the Hanover Square establishment when the feisty madam first took it over. Most of the boys were in awe of him; he knew the ropes – in a manner of speaking – and could tell at a glance what a client was like, his probable sexual tastes, and what type of boy he required. Once, when Madame Louise took a well-earned break, she had handed over the running of the brothel to Hans and he had acquitted himself to great acclaim. Rumour was rife that when she eventually retired, Hans would be her successor.

*************

The trip had passed all too quickly. Both boys were admired by the other passengers and posed for photographs as a memento of the trip. Elijah noticed that Sir Ian gave the brothel’s address for where the photographs should be posted.

“In all my years,” began the photographer as he adjusted the lens, “I have not encountered such a pretty profile as your son’s,” he told a very amused Andrew. “You should get a portrait painted! Millais would have *great* delight in a complexion such as his!”

“He’ll be the toast of London within days once his picture is circulated!” Sir Ian remarked proudly. “The ladies will be *so* jealous! Especially that Langtry creature!”

Hans frowned with concern. “Elijah, Uncle Ian? Alas, I hardly think he would be accepted – and as for Mrs Langtry...”

“You’d be surprised!” Sir Ian retorted, those naughty blue eyes twinkling again. “There are certain gentlemen who would *love* a picture of such beauty!”

Elijah noted that there was no flicker of jealousy in Hans’ features concerning Sir Ian’s comment. If it had been Orlando, there would have been uproar, followed by a period of uneasy silence during which it would have been possible to slice through the atmosphere even with a butter knife. Hans was too cynical and had been on the game for too long to play these games. He was a professional and, if a gentleman wished to have his company for a few days, he was more than happy to oblige.

Andrew had been chatting to the photographer during this little exchange. “I dabble in a bit of painting myself, you know,” he nodded, taking a card from the man. “So I’ll call on Millais when I get back to London!”

“You do that, sir,” the photographer replied with a beaming smile. “You won’t regret it!”

************

It was painful to let go. Painful to slip his arms from around Andrew’s neck. Painful to break away from a long, lingering kiss in the hansom before parting in Hanover Square, as the cab took Andrew away from him so that he could report back to barracks.

“I’ll be seeing you again tonight!” Andrew promised as he drank in the blueness of Elijah’s pleading eyes.

As Hugo, looking more disdainful than ever, helped Elijah with his baggage and snorted at the smart new suit he was wearing, the younger man watched longingly until the cab was out of sight.

************

It was quiet in the parlour and the front rooms of the house.

“They’re all in the kitchen,” Hugo explained gently, taking pity on the heartbroken youth. “New boy has started. Absolutely filthy and crawling with lice!” He rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “I’m sure Madame knows what she is doing! I do hear he is scrubbing up well! And then there’s Madam’s new gentleman caller – some mill owner from Yorkshire. Been sniffing around her for months like a bee to the honey pot. He’s arriving for dinner at eight and Mr Astin is having kittens – the kitchen is a mess!”

Hugo was a fusspot who was adored by the boys and adept at getting rid of the more difficult clients with a sharp wit and a rude tongue. Elijah was still in awe of him and most of the time he wasn’t sure whether or not Hugo was being serious. But he listened, wide-eyed, momentarily distracted from his misery, and meekly followed Hugo to the kitchen.

**************

The noise was deafening.

In the centre of the large, wide kitchen sat a tin bath-tub filled with carbolic soap and a very disgruntled blond boy of about fifteen years of age. He was being unceremoniously scrubbed clean with huge, rough-looking brushes, wielded with unnerving enthusiasm by Dominic and Billy, who were in their shirt sleeves and a mischievous mood. Mitzi the spaniel was yapping excitedly as she darted around the boys, skidding around on the wet floor, her little tail wagging furiously.

Elijah stared in amazement: there was more water on the scrubbed floor than in the bathtub. Daniel, the young kitchen boy, giggled hysterically as he peered through at the scene whilst he peeled potatoes in the scullery.

Meanwhile Mr Astin, the normally good natured and unflappable West Country chef, was clearly upset. “No, no! Not in my kitchen! The scullery! I told you to bath him in the scullery! And who let this bloody dog in my kitchen? What have I told you about letting this dog in my kitchen?”

Added to this picture was a very aggrieved Orlando, complaining that he had caught lice from the newcomer and scratching furiously.

“Ye’re a fuckin’ hypochondriac!” Billy was yelling. “If ye sneeze, ye’ll have the plague!” He stopped when he saw Elijah. “Oh hello, wee bairn! Elijah, this is Tom – Tom, say ‘allo to Elijah!”

Tom grunted something that could have been a curse or a greeting in Elijah’s direction before being dunked head first into the tub again.

In all the mayhem, none of them had noticed the elegantly-dressed gentleman entering through the back door. His green eyes took in the scene before him with some amusement as he removed his hat. “Not too early am I?” His brusque Yorkshire accent carried over the din.

Mr Astin looked scandalized. “You shouldn’t be here! You’re early, and I’m no way near ready! Doesn’t Madame know you’re here?”

The Yorkshireman’s broad smile filled his face. “Calm down, Mr Astin! That bloody butler of yours keeps thinking I’m trade, an’ sends me round the back! Either that or ‘e’s doing it to spite me. Got any of that delicious cherry cake of yours?”

“Enough!”

A familiar Black Country accent cut through the air. All activity in the kitchen ceased immediately as Madame Louise, dressed in a blue velvet day gown, swept down the stairs like a fiery tiny tornado, staring in horror at the mess before her.

She was about to upbraid the boys in her charge when she caught sight of the new arrival and turned pale. “Sean!” she exclaimed, looking anxiously at the newcomer. “You’re early!”

“Aye!” Sean moved through the chaos towards her, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the boys, and swept her up against his broad chest as if she were made of gossamer. “Can’t seem to keep away from ye, lass!”

“Who is this?” Orlando sniffed, acutely aware that no-one had acknowledged his presence for at least five minutes.

The older man man’s lips twitched into a smile. “Sean Bean, owner of Bean Textiles.” He strode forward to shake Orlando’s hand and the younger man winced at the firm grip. “But you can call me Sean! An’ you are...?”

“His name is Orlando and he is such a girl!” giggled Billy as he helped Dominic wrap a towel around Tom, who had ceased wriggling and was now voicing his opinions in a none-too delicate fashion about being exposed in front of so many people.

“You’re not thinking of putting him with us, are you?” Orlando asked, shocked as Tom let fly with a string of words that would have not sounded out of place coming from a docker.

“Actually,” Madame Louise grinned, “I was thinking of making Tom a footman; he’d be someone to help Hugo!”

Orlando looked aghast as the rest of the boys laughed.

But Tom wasn’t having any of it. “I don’t wanna be a footman! Oof! Lemme go! Yer ‘urtin’ me!”

“You keep a lively bunch ‘ere,” laughed Sean, returning to embrace Madame Louise. “I ‘ope they treat you well!”

“They drive me to the brink of insanity!” Madame Louise remarked airily. “Apart from this little treasure!” She pulled Elijah to her, ruffling his hair. “This one has been spoilt rotten – not only by myself, but by a certain gentlemen caller, haven’t you, babby?” Elijah reddened. “Look at the little lad! He’s blushing!” she teased him affectionately.

Sean smiled. “Yer wanna get some hard graft in yer, lad! Look at yer soft ‘ands! At your age I was working a full seventeen hours a day, seven days a week!” He chuckled kindly, seeing Elijah’s crestfallen face. “Eh, lad, don’t look so mardy. I can see why the gentlemen want to part with their cash for ye!”

Upon hearing this, Orlando gave a disgruntled snort. “Elijah! Elijah! It’s always Elijah this and Elijah that!” He tossed his mop of dark curls contemptuously and then flounced past Madame Louise on the stairs and swept on up towards the parlour.

“What is it, Orli?” Billy yelled up after him. “Time of the month?”

Elijah said nothing, but stood watching. It was only then that he realised that someone was missing.

“Where’s Dhani?” he yelled above the noise.

************

Andrew grunted in his climax and started to withdraw from the perfectly formed arse beneath him.

Dropping a trail of gentle butterfly kisses across the back of Elijah’s neck and shoulder blades, he sensed the tension in his young lover’s body.

“I’m sure Dhani will turn up later, pet!” he assured Elijah, stroking the boy’s soft skin and marvelling at its texture.

Elijah turned around under Andrew to face him and ran his finger across the older man’s face. “’E ‘ad a client, they said. ‘E said that ‘e was off to see ‘im at the Dorchester. ‘E should ‘ave been back hours ago!”

Andrew pulled Elijah closer and rolled him over, so that his young lover lay on top of him. “And?”

“I’m just worried...”

“He seems well-assured enough to keep an eye out for himself, Elijah. You know what these princes are like, particularly those born on the wrong side of the blanket; they have a bee in their bonnets.”

Elijah took a breath as he ran his fingertips over Andrew’s now hardened nipples and across and into the thick mat of dark curls of chest hair that tickled Elijah’s soft cheek. “’E ain’t no prince, Andy!” he sighed, using his pet name for the Captain, and feeling that he had now betrayed Dhani’s confidence.

Andrew blinked in mock astonishment and stopped Elijah’s hands from their delicious journey over his body. “Not – a – prince?”

Elijah nodded sorrowfully. “’E’s a fake. A renter from Liverpool. Some bloke ‘e got mixed up wiv fort it was a good idea to make ‘im be this ‘Prince’ – to bring the punters in. It would make ‘im seem more –” He clicked his fingers to help him find the right word.

“Exotic?” suggested Andrew helpfully.

“Yeah, that’s it!” Elijah smiled. “Exotic!”

Andrew tried to stifle a smile. “I always thought there was something not quite kosher with that boy.” He tapped the side of his nose. “I know a good con man when I see one: Ruislip Manor isn’t exactly Belgravia!”

Elijah hid his fury at Andrew’s gentle mockery. If he had known Dhani was a fraud, why didn’t he peach on him?

“But why, Elijah? Why the deception?”

Elijah sighed. “It’s a long story.”

The Captain laughed softly. “We have all night, Elijah.”

Andrew started to sit up – but Elijah, straddling his lap more comfortably, stilled him and told him the full story of Dhani’s upbringing, his vendetta, and his determination to find his father’s murderer.

“Does Madame know?” Andrew enquired after Elijah had finally stopped talking. The young man shook his head miserably and sighed. “If he is as tough as you say,” Andrew began, gently stroking Elijah’s soft chestnut curls away from his forehead, “he’ll be all right! And it will only be a matter of time before his real identity is discovered. You know how the brothel is already swarming with gossip from the Court about the Duke of Clarence’s dalliances. Billy only has to bloody fart as soon as he gets up and it will be all over London by lunchtime.”

Elijah sighed again. “If you say so, Andy.”

“I do say so...” Andrew looked at him, his blue eyes half closed, long thick eyelashes brushing his cheeks. “Now – come on – stop worrying about other people.” He started to nuzzle Elijah’s neck. “Where were we?”

Elijah sighed and let himself be engulfed in Andrew’s muscular arms. Wrapping his own around the Captain’s neck and feeling those hot, burning kisses arouse him, his cock twitched a positive response as it was sandwiched between his stomach and Andrew’s.

Andrew’s hand slid down, gripping Elijah’s cock firmly, marvelling at the quite lovely and unexpected chunkiness of it, a striking contrast to the younger man’s slight frame. “You are beautiful!” he sighed, cupping Elijah’s balls in one large hand, caressing them as he did so, along with the soft downy pubic hair which was made to be stroked.

Elijah squeaked, arching his back luxuriantly under Andrew’s assured touch and controlled, fluid movements.

“Lie back!” ordered Andrew, leaning forwards and causing Elijah to fall flat on his back onto the already crumpled sheets.

Legs and arms still wrapped firmly around Andrew’s muscular body, Elijah felt himself getting hotter and harder as strong hands began working diligently on his cock. Hands that were replaced shortly after by a practised mouth and tongue, sucking and licking firmly on Elijah’s cock and balls.

Elijah squealed louder, writhing around wildly until Andrew’s firm grip on his buttocks held him in place. “Oh Andy – An-deeee!” he exclaimed, his hands clutching onto the back of Andrew’s head, the slicked-back curls now springing free as he was pulled into Elijah’s groin.

For his part, Andrew almost gagged on the boy’s cock. Circling his tongue around Elijah’s girth, impressive for one so slight, he then snaked down into the soft skin of his balls. He parted Elijah’s legs so that he could access the perineum more easily, before raising the young man’s arse in order to flick his tongue into the opening crack of that tender, succulent arse.

Again Elijah shrieked in delight. For him each sensation was like a new experience, discovered for the very first time – as indeed they were; all these exquisite feelings he was enjoying for the first time as someone who was loved.

He wanted to come, yet he wanted Andrew to take his time. For Elijah, it was an orgasm’s first few waves of delicious warmth that were the most pleasurable for him. He always wanted it to last forever.

Andrew’s own erection throbbed beneath him as it rubbed against his stomach. Already wet with pre-come, he reached down and smeared the slickness over his organ. He was ready, but he wanted Elijah to be completely prepared when he entered him.

Bucking and thrashing beneath his lover, Elijah closed his eyes as he felt his climax begin to pulse through him, Andrew maintaining a slow, steady rhythm as Elijah came in his mouth in short, quick spurts. With no time to recover, Elijah’s legs were then lifted over the Captain’s shoulders; after ensuring that he was more than sufficiently lubricated to enter, Andrew thrust his now engorged cock into Elijah’s pert arse.

When he felt the huge cock inside him, Elijah squealed with delight, gripping the brass poles of the headboard behind him as the bedstead slammed urgently into the wall. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Harder! Faster! Yes! Harder!” he moaned from beneath his lover, who complied only too willingly as he felt his cock grow harder still inside Elijah and the beginnings of his own climax.

Before long, the screams, yells, and moans were twofold. Andrew grunted and groaned as Elijah writhed and screamed beneath him, urging Andrew to go faster, harder until he let out a cry of “fuckin’hellAndeeeedon’tfuckin’stopfuckmefuckme!”

Panting, Andrew withdrew his cock just as he began coming and, placing Elijah’s small hands around it, ordered him to “finish him off” until semen spurted copiously out over Elijah’s stomach as the young man masturbated him to a glorious finish.

The come had barely time to dry into a sticky mess on Elijah’s belly before Andrew started to caress him again.

Elijah moved his hand down to stop him.

“You had enough?” Andrew chuckled.

“No,” Elijah whispered. “Please. Let me pleasure you!”

With that he rolled back over onto his front and crawled down the bed before taking Andrew’s cock between his rosebud lips. As the gentle assault on his cock began, Andrew lay back to enjoy it.

Every so often Elijah would look up at him, searching for approval and encouragement, those big saucer-like blue eyes melting Andrew’s insides as he did so.

Although he needed both hands to accommodate the size of Andrew’s cock, from time to time Elijah would slip one of his hands between his legs to pull and stroke his own growing erection.

“Good boy!” whispered Andrew, looking down and observing the rhythmic bobbing of Elijah’s curls as he stroked and caressed them. He carefully positioned himself on the bed so that he was now lying with his face close to Elijah’s groin and in turn started to stroke and caress Elijah’s cock and balls with his mouth and hands.

Elijah stopped and gasped as he felt the caresses, the kisses, and finally the sucking of his own cock. Raising his head he caught a glimpse of the two of them reflected in the mirrored ceiling.

They made a bizarre but deliciously erotic tableau; spooned together, mouths on cocks, hands on backsides: a combined sighing and groaning as they both found a rhythm to follow. Neither took the lead, both of them instead sharing the experience, enjoying each other’s caresses as they moved together as one being.

When they finally came, Elijah followed by Andrew, it was a fitting end to their eager lovemaking.

********

At first, Elijah never noticed the figure climbing in through the open window of the bedroom in the Crouch Hill haven. He was in that warm, blissful state of post-orgasmic semi-consciousness, aware only of the lassitude in his body and the remembrance of the Captain’s love-making in the soreness of his muscles.

And then, with sharp reflexes born of his time on the streets, he realised that he and the Captain were no longer alone.

He opened his eyes slowly and there stood Dhani – looking slightly worse for wear, covered in dirt and – was that blood?

There was look of self-satisfaction on the faux prince’s handsome face. “’E’s gone, Lij!” he whispered excitedly. “The wanker’s gone!”

Elijah, still slightly drowsy, didn’t understand what Dhani meant and could only stare at him dumbly.

“You ‘ad a good time, then?” Dhani continued, indicating the rumpled bed sheets and a replete, snoring Captain Serkis.

“Never mind that!” Elijah insisted. “Oo’s gone?”

Dhani smiled in the darkness, the room lit only by the street lamp outside. “That fucking cunt! Mortensen!"”

Hearing that name again, Elijah’s heart sank and he failed to hear Dhani’s triumphant final remark:

“I killed ‘im, Lij! I killed ‘im!”

**********

Chapter Nine to follow