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fellowshippers2002-08-22 03:06 pm
juweldom.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2002-08-22 03:06 pm
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Title: "Slightly Crooked"
Part: 1/? EW/SA
Author: Diamond (juweldom@yahoo.com )
Rating: PG this chapter (NC-17 later)
Pairings: Multiple Pairs for series.
Category: Romance, Angst, a lot of PWP
Archive: just ask.
Disclaimer: I do not know the actors and make no claims about their lifestyles or sexual preferences. This is purely fictional for entertainment purposes and no money is being made. Again--it might be true, but if it is, I sure as heck don't know the details!
Summary: Elijah begins a quest for love and companionship in the Fellowship. The title says it all--it's a crooked path for crooked people to find love.
*****
*Crooked*: Webster's Dictionary: 1. Not straight. (wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more!) 2. Dishonest.
*****
It all started with Astin.
He was the first one Elijah met--hotel lobby, of all places--also the first hobbit at the 'hobbit training camp' Peter put together for them six weeks before actual filming would begin, to learn swordplay, dialects, canoeing, weight training and in Sean's case weight gain. Peter wanted them to work and play together and get nice and 'chummy'.
Chummy? Peter had no idea.
Elijah doubted Peter had ever meant for them to get as crazy as they did over the course of filming, but what did he expect? Fifteen months, a lot of guys getting incredibly close, few women--it was bound to happen. Especially when some of the actors had already been doing that sort of thing long before coming to New Zealand.
It was all fading away now, the exact images and feelings Elijah had experienced when they all first met. He remembered the nervousness--smoking two cigarettes before walking into the room--he remembered having to ask Billy to say something--he couldn't remember what now--twice, and how Dominic had been late, sucking down a Pepsi at seven in the morning. Elijah knew he was going to like him immediately--they were both hyper as monkeys. Dom had come up to Sean with that cute grin and cracked some awful thing about how they were the new 'Goonies' which had made Sean groan and Billy and himself laugh.
But Sean was first. First to arrive, first to sort of take charge and welcome everybody, to get conversations going and first to hug. When Elijah walked in, he got a hug. The same wonderful 'Where have you been all my life I think we're going to be best friends' kind of hug he'd gotten at the lobby, the kind that sent electrical shocks to every limb.
Elijah wondered if Sean had a history with guys at all.
But of course now he was married, even if he had, and anyway the last thing Elijah wanted to do to a new work partner and hopefully new friend was mess things up. So he stayed quiet. None of them knew, of course. About Josh, about Tobey--okay, well Tobey had only been a hand job--his first with a guy, but none of them knew his tastes went more their way than the other.
And Sean was cute. He just exuded warmth, love, and big brotherly care. He was so conscientious--never forgot to phone Christine when they were going to run late, never got angry when he made a mistake on his accent, rehearsing his lines, taking ribbing from the costume people good-naturedly as they fitted him.
That last, though, Elijah knew bugged him. How he wasn't allowed to do certain exercises that might make him lose weight, how Peter was forever suggesting him "have another slice of cake", another hamburger, another damn protein shake. He got this intense, inward kind of look when they were in the gym together and he saw Dom working the weights in just a tight clingy T-shirt and sweats--oh, incredible body, but hell, he flirted with everybody. Half of Makeup was falling for him--both sexes, but Dom hadn't done more than flirt, and nobody was really sure who he was interested in if anybody. Something about him set alarms off in Elijah's brain. Best stay back from Dom a little. They were too alike.
Anyway, Dom didn't need Elijah. Sean did. Or Elijah needed him--too confusing to sort out which; all he knew was something in him ached for all that mature love and nurturing he found with his fellow "Hollywood Brat". Elijah spent almost all his time with him--even a couple Saturdays with Christine and Ali--okay, odd maybe for an eighteen-year old guy to spend an afternoon playing "Ring around the Roses" with a toddler, but it felt so *normal*, just comfortable and happy and--he didn't know. *Satisfying*.
Elijah was forced to return his attention to his sets as the trainer walked past. "Okay, Sean, five more lifts and you're done. Elijah, you've got twenty more presses and don't forget your lunges. Fifty. Then you can go."
Billy and Dom were already done and in the showers. Elijah was starving--elvish coaching had run long this morning, they'd had to check his ears again for the prosthetics, and then when he got winded *before* Sean in fencing practice, Kirk, one of their fencing masters, decided he needed to build himself up a little more, to meet the demands of the stunts. Crap. Elijah hated exercise.
Sean finished his set, puffing and sweating, the muscles in his arms bulging--oh, that reminded Elijah of that silly movie he'd just seen with Sean where he was shirtless half the time--no, not now, not time to get hard now, so just go away, he told his cock as it began clamoring for attention. Shut the fuck up. I *know* he's good looking--and so damned decent. And married. So just shut the fuck up.
Elijah had yet to start his set. The trainer eyed him balefully--shit, the guy was probably hungry too. It was one o'clock already.
"Go ahead--I'll spot him," Sean offered, wiping off his face with a towel. Elijah shivered. Okay, no big deal, just get the presses done and you'll be fine. Don' t need a spotter for lunges, thankfully. Sean could hit the showers first, then hopefully Elijah would get them alone and take care of business. End of problem.
"Okay Elijah; lie on down. Gotta build up your pecs, huh?" Sean said with a silly grin, leaning over the bar at the bench press to adjust the weight--way down from what he'd been pressing.
Oh, Elijah could think of lots of better places (and reasons) for Sean to be saying that, but god he hated doing presses--those were probably the weakest muscles on his whole body. Legs--no problem. He could run circles around all of them. But presses? Forget it.
With a groan, he lied back and put his hands on the bar. "This is a hopeless cause, you know. If I haven't developed anything by now, I'm never going to." He lifted five times and returned the bar with a muttered curse. Hated presses. Hated them.
"Oh don't worry about that--they just want you to have the strength for the part--we'll be climbing mountains, you know. You look fine, of course. I wouldn't change anything," Sean assured him, standing over him as he struggled to complete five more. Ergh. Arms hurt.
"I'm stuck in a ten-year-old's body. What's not to like?" Elijah rolled his eyes, smirking, but Sean, with true Sean protectiveness, took him seriously.
"Hey, no--don't even say that. You're beautiful." He looked down at him, slightly protruding belly well covered up with sweats. Suddenly he noted Elijah staring up at him and tugged self-consciously at his sweatshirt, stepping back. "At least you don’t have a danger of becoming the Pilsbury Dough boy."
Those beautiful earthy eyes of his--they couldn't hide anything. Elijah saw the self doubt, the frustration. Completing another five (dammit, don't let his arms shake on the last five!), he stopped and reached up to grasp Sean's hand resting on the frame holding the bar. "You look great. And I'm not just saying that. Why the hell do you think the makeup girls are so nice to you?"
"Because I'm *nice*. Too damned nice," Sean said with a groan, then slapped Elijah's arm. "Five more. Come on--I'm starving."
Right. Even though he was seriously tempted to reach up, wrap both hands around that solid neck and pull him down for a kiss. Okay, the angle was a little funny. Made for a lovely dream, though. "Hey, if you weren't married, I'm sure I--"
Oops. He'd meant to say they--the girls in makeup. He felt his cheeks heating up. If he corrected himself now, it would just draw more attention to the slip. Damn. And he was half hard now. Oh fuck.
He sat up fast, and oh, that was a mistake. Nothing to eat since daybreak, doing all that physical training--he blinked as black spots danced in his vision and swayed, clutching at the bench. No, don't faint. Please do not fucking faint now.
"Hey there, you ok?" Sean's arms were on his shoulders, steadying him. Elijah leaned into his chest, breathing in the scent of him, very male, very arousing. Shit.
"Elijah?" Strong hands lifted his face. The spots slowly left his vision and he was staring into Sean's concerned eyes, trying very hard not to tremble.
"I'm sorry. Haven't eaten much today," he mumbled. He needed distance, needed air. Needed Sean, but no, couldn't have that.
Sean nodded, and didn’t step back as Elijah had expected, gently holding his shoulders as if afraid he would collapse. "Do the lunges later. Let's go get some food. Think you can stand?"
He offered an arm, and Elijah gratefully used it, berating himself for enjoying the contact so much. Shit, he was going to fuck things up. And he really *liked* Sean too. Maybe Sean hadn't caught it. Maybe he could just pretend it hadn't happened.
Once he was secure on his feet, Sean released him. "Yeah, if I wasn't married," Sean whispered, and the look he gave Elijah . . . oh shit. He'd understood.
He was interested.
*****
TBC
*****
Part: 1/? EW/SA
Author: Diamond (juweldom@yahoo.com )
Rating: PG this chapter (NC-17 later)
Pairings: Multiple Pairs for series.
Category: Romance, Angst, a lot of PWP
Archive: just ask.
Disclaimer: I do not know the actors and make no claims about their lifestyles or sexual preferences. This is purely fictional for entertainment purposes and no money is being made. Again--it might be true, but if it is, I sure as heck don't know the details!
Summary: Elijah begins a quest for love and companionship in the Fellowship. The title says it all--it's a crooked path for crooked people to find love.
*****
*Crooked*: Webster's Dictionary: 1. Not straight. (wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more!) 2. Dishonest.
*****
It all started with Astin.
He was the first one Elijah met--hotel lobby, of all places--also the first hobbit at the 'hobbit training camp' Peter put together for them six weeks before actual filming would begin, to learn swordplay, dialects, canoeing, weight training and in Sean's case weight gain. Peter wanted them to work and play together and get nice and 'chummy'.
Chummy? Peter had no idea.
Elijah doubted Peter had ever meant for them to get as crazy as they did over the course of filming, but what did he expect? Fifteen months, a lot of guys getting incredibly close, few women--it was bound to happen. Especially when some of the actors had already been doing that sort of thing long before coming to New Zealand.
It was all fading away now, the exact images and feelings Elijah had experienced when they all first met. He remembered the nervousness--smoking two cigarettes before walking into the room--he remembered having to ask Billy to say something--he couldn't remember what now--twice, and how Dominic had been late, sucking down a Pepsi at seven in the morning. Elijah knew he was going to like him immediately--they were both hyper as monkeys. Dom had come up to Sean with that cute grin and cracked some awful thing about how they were the new 'Goonies' which had made Sean groan and Billy and himself laugh.
But Sean was first. First to arrive, first to sort of take charge and welcome everybody, to get conversations going and first to hug. When Elijah walked in, he got a hug. The same wonderful 'Where have you been all my life I think we're going to be best friends' kind of hug he'd gotten at the lobby, the kind that sent electrical shocks to every limb.
Elijah wondered if Sean had a history with guys at all.
But of course now he was married, even if he had, and anyway the last thing Elijah wanted to do to a new work partner and hopefully new friend was mess things up. So he stayed quiet. None of them knew, of course. About Josh, about Tobey--okay, well Tobey had only been a hand job--his first with a guy, but none of them knew his tastes went more their way than the other.
And Sean was cute. He just exuded warmth, love, and big brotherly care. He was so conscientious--never forgot to phone Christine when they were going to run late, never got angry when he made a mistake on his accent, rehearsing his lines, taking ribbing from the costume people good-naturedly as they fitted him.
That last, though, Elijah knew bugged him. How he wasn't allowed to do certain exercises that might make him lose weight, how Peter was forever suggesting him "have another slice of cake", another hamburger, another damn protein shake. He got this intense, inward kind of look when they were in the gym together and he saw Dom working the weights in just a tight clingy T-shirt and sweats--oh, incredible body, but hell, he flirted with everybody. Half of Makeup was falling for him--both sexes, but Dom hadn't done more than flirt, and nobody was really sure who he was interested in if anybody. Something about him set alarms off in Elijah's brain. Best stay back from Dom a little. They were too alike.
Anyway, Dom didn't need Elijah. Sean did. Or Elijah needed him--too confusing to sort out which; all he knew was something in him ached for all that mature love and nurturing he found with his fellow "Hollywood Brat". Elijah spent almost all his time with him--even a couple Saturdays with Christine and Ali--okay, odd maybe for an eighteen-year old guy to spend an afternoon playing "Ring around the Roses" with a toddler, but it felt so *normal*, just comfortable and happy and--he didn't know. *Satisfying*.
Elijah was forced to return his attention to his sets as the trainer walked past. "Okay, Sean, five more lifts and you're done. Elijah, you've got twenty more presses and don't forget your lunges. Fifty. Then you can go."
Billy and Dom were already done and in the showers. Elijah was starving--elvish coaching had run long this morning, they'd had to check his ears again for the prosthetics, and then when he got winded *before* Sean in fencing practice, Kirk, one of their fencing masters, decided he needed to build himself up a little more, to meet the demands of the stunts. Crap. Elijah hated exercise.
Sean finished his set, puffing and sweating, the muscles in his arms bulging--oh, that reminded Elijah of that silly movie he'd just seen with Sean where he was shirtless half the time--no, not now, not time to get hard now, so just go away, he told his cock as it began clamoring for attention. Shut the fuck up. I *know* he's good looking--and so damned decent. And married. So just shut the fuck up.
Elijah had yet to start his set. The trainer eyed him balefully--shit, the guy was probably hungry too. It was one o'clock already.
"Go ahead--I'll spot him," Sean offered, wiping off his face with a towel. Elijah shivered. Okay, no big deal, just get the presses done and you'll be fine. Don' t need a spotter for lunges, thankfully. Sean could hit the showers first, then hopefully Elijah would get them alone and take care of business. End of problem.
"Okay Elijah; lie on down. Gotta build up your pecs, huh?" Sean said with a silly grin, leaning over the bar at the bench press to adjust the weight--way down from what he'd been pressing.
Oh, Elijah could think of lots of better places (and reasons) for Sean to be saying that, but god he hated doing presses--those were probably the weakest muscles on his whole body. Legs--no problem. He could run circles around all of them. But presses? Forget it.
With a groan, he lied back and put his hands on the bar. "This is a hopeless cause, you know. If I haven't developed anything by now, I'm never going to." He lifted five times and returned the bar with a muttered curse. Hated presses. Hated them.
"Oh don't worry about that--they just want you to have the strength for the part--we'll be climbing mountains, you know. You look fine, of course. I wouldn't change anything," Sean assured him, standing over him as he struggled to complete five more. Ergh. Arms hurt.
"I'm stuck in a ten-year-old's body. What's not to like?" Elijah rolled his eyes, smirking, but Sean, with true Sean protectiveness, took him seriously.
"Hey, no--don't even say that. You're beautiful." He looked down at him, slightly protruding belly well covered up with sweats. Suddenly he noted Elijah staring up at him and tugged self-consciously at his sweatshirt, stepping back. "At least you don’t have a danger of becoming the Pilsbury Dough boy."
Those beautiful earthy eyes of his--they couldn't hide anything. Elijah saw the self doubt, the frustration. Completing another five (dammit, don't let his arms shake on the last five!), he stopped and reached up to grasp Sean's hand resting on the frame holding the bar. "You look great. And I'm not just saying that. Why the hell do you think the makeup girls are so nice to you?"
"Because I'm *nice*. Too damned nice," Sean said with a groan, then slapped Elijah's arm. "Five more. Come on--I'm starving."
Right. Even though he was seriously tempted to reach up, wrap both hands around that solid neck and pull him down for a kiss. Okay, the angle was a little funny. Made for a lovely dream, though. "Hey, if you weren't married, I'm sure I--"
Oops. He'd meant to say they--the girls in makeup. He felt his cheeks heating up. If he corrected himself now, it would just draw more attention to the slip. Damn. And he was half hard now. Oh fuck.
He sat up fast, and oh, that was a mistake. Nothing to eat since daybreak, doing all that physical training--he blinked as black spots danced in his vision and swayed, clutching at the bench. No, don't faint. Please do not fucking faint now.
"Hey there, you ok?" Sean's arms were on his shoulders, steadying him. Elijah leaned into his chest, breathing in the scent of him, very male, very arousing. Shit.
"Elijah?" Strong hands lifted his face. The spots slowly left his vision and he was staring into Sean's concerned eyes, trying very hard not to tremble.
"I'm sorry. Haven't eaten much today," he mumbled. He needed distance, needed air. Needed Sean, but no, couldn't have that.
Sean nodded, and didn’t step back as Elijah had expected, gently holding his shoulders as if afraid he would collapse. "Do the lunges later. Let's go get some food. Think you can stand?"
He offered an arm, and Elijah gratefully used it, berating himself for enjoying the contact so much. Shit, he was going to fuck things up. And he really *liked* Sean too. Maybe Sean hadn't caught it. Maybe he could just pretend it hadn't happened.
Once he was secure on his feet, Sean released him. "Yeah, if I wasn't married," Sean whispered, and the look he gave Elijah . . . oh shit. He'd understood.
He was interested.
*****
TBC
*****