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fellowshippers2002-08-22 03:08 pm
juweldom.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2002-08-22 03:08 pm
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Title: "Slightly Crooked"
Part: 2/? EW/SA
Author: Diamond (juweldom@yahoo.com )
Rating: R this chapter
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. 2. Dishonest.
*****
There was awkward silence in the locker room. Elijah wondered if he should wait and let Sean hit the showers first, or if he should just lock himself up in one of the toilets to take care of matters quickly so he didn’t have to embarrass both of them. Oh, he'd royally fucked this one up, without a doubt.
Tossing aside his shirt, Elijah risked a glance over at Sean. Shit. Yep, he was staring at him. Elijah smiled and blushed, trying to gather the courage to say something.
Sean spoke first. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
Wasn't he supposed to say that? "Oh not at all. I just feel kind of silly. I'm only interested in being friends, you understand." Yeah, right. Get him a tiara and Cleopatra's boat right now. And wipe that damned blush off his cheeks.
"Oh--right," Sean stammered, then slowly took off his sweatshirt, his back to Elijah. Something hot coiled within his stomach--Elijah debated whether to say more. Sean had looked disappointed there for a moment. Silence dragged out between them.
"Do you want to shower first?" Sean asked, still not looking at him. Elijah could have beaten his head into the wall for his stupidity. So long, friendship. Hello awkward work partner.
"Uh, that's ok--you can go first--I was just going to use the toilet . . ." he couldn't believe he was actually saying that, as if it wasn't painfully obvious what he needed to do. Sweat pants didn't hide erections terribly well--he'd give them that. Fuck, even his nipples were hard. Somebody tell that Astin to put his shirt back on.
Sean drew in a deep breath and turned around, and suddenly Elijah noted how he was holding his sweatshirt in front of himself, as a possible cover up. He was blushing too. "Mm, Elijah, you know I could probably get away with something that wasn't too intimate. Like if you need any help . . . I doubt Christine would have a problem with that." Without waiting for a response, he dropped his gaze, then dropped his pants, and went into the showers.
After Elijah had picked his jaw off the floor, he decided to join him.
The water was on, and Sean was halfway through lathering when Elijah stepped up beside him, as nervous as if this was his first time ever and just as excited too. He didn't feel right making the first move--after all, he wasn't the one taking a big risk here--so he shyly just reached out for the soap and began the perfunctory task of washing himself, only his skin was so sensitized now being nude and next to Sean, not knowing exactly what was going to happen, suddenly just the act of sudsing up under his arms and letting the water hit the back of his neck was becoming this lewd show for his friend.
And when Sean did reach out to help him wash his back, wrapping his arms around to do it and letting their cocks touch, he seriously thought about fainting again. Evidently Sean was a little worried about that too, for he held onto his waist tight, steadying him. Elijah leaned forward to kiss his partly open lips, but before he closed the distance, Sean whispered, "We probably shouldn't . . . ah . . . kiss . . . ah--oh fuck," and just as Elijah was pulling back to obey his request, Sean leaned forward and kissed him, hard, expertly, sucking Elijah's tongue into his mouth until Elijah was ready to climb on top of him and start riding--oh damn, whatever happened to 'platonic'?! Who cared. He was in heaven.
Sean reached between them and began stroking, and that was what Elijah had been waiting for--he grabbed Sean's cock as well--solid, thick, and whoever thought short guys weren't packing was really fucked in the head. He groaned into Sean's mouth as his climax neared, every sensation a torture now, some freaking bubbles from the soap sliding into the crack of his ass, the hot water beating a tempo on his shoulders to flow between them and over their hands--oh god, *nothing* like the feel of a wet cock. Sean was groaning deep in his throat, bear sounds, how appropriate--and then it was like a light switch being turned on--they were both coming, onto each other's chests, the water quickly washing away the evidence, down the drain. They stood for a moment gently touching each other, breathing softly into each other's mouths. Sean's stomach rumbled.
"Oh yeah. Lunch," Elijah said, in a weak, breathy voice. Sean chuckled. Gently Sean changed their positions to go under the showerhead.
"Let me just rinse off here, then I'll get dressed. Billy and Dom will be wondering what happened to us."
They finished quickly--no lingering kisses, just a friendly pat on the arm and a conspiring grin or two (actually Elijah couldn't seem to stop grinning, so that probably counted for dozens), then they were getting dressed and heading over to the cafeteria. It didn't seem appropriate to hold hands, or show any outward sign of what had just occurred. They were just friends. Nothing was going to change; at least, Elijah hoped not.
Catering was serving something called Plate Lunch, a chicken teriyaki and rice kinda thing. Sean and Elijah grabbed plates and joined Dom and Billy at a booth, making the two of them scoot over and make room. Elijah sat down next to Billy.
"We were starting to wonder what happened to you two," Billy said with a laugh, bumping against Elijah playfully.
Elijah groaned. "My poor abused arms! They made me do extra presses." He wasted no more time on words but began to shovel food into his mouth, hardly tasting it. Across the table, Sean was doing the same while Dom watched them both with a strange quirky grin on his face.
"You are such a baby, Elijah," Dom said with a laugh. He was sitting with legs folded into his chest and sprang up to grab one of Elijah's pieces of chicken; before Elijah could make a sound he'd popped it into his mouth with a loud smack, looking wicked. Elijah glared at him.
"Cunt." Heh, such a thrill to say that and not get shocked looks from half the room here.
"Wanker," Dom quipped.
"As often as possible," Elijah agreed, his mouth full.
"I believe that!" Dom said wryly, licking his fingers. Elijah shrugged and wrinkled his nose at him, trying not to blush. What did the fucker know anyway.
"I think Dom won that round," Billy said in his lilting voice, grinning.
"Mm-hmm," Sean said around another biteful. Elijah was not in the mood to think up a witty comeback, so he shrugged again and continued eating. Lunch break was almost over anyways, and his legs felt about the consistence of jelly right now, in the aftermath of the shower. About time for a nap, if you asked him.
Seeing that there would be no goading him, Dom turned to talk of weekend plans, encouraging Sean to come watch some local football--real football, not that American shit, and Elijah drifted, trying *not* to think of the future; especially the weekend, as he would have to look at Christine and begin the lies. Well actually, the lies had started right here, he realized, with these two new friends. Not that it was their business, of course. Sean reluctantly was agreeing to Dom's plans when one of the catering ladies came up with a plastic container of something white and sticky looking.
"From Peter," she said, and left it on Sean's plate.
He looked at it and moaned, throwing up his hands. "But I don't even like potato salad!" He glared at the lady, but she was already retreating. He sighed and poked at it with his fork.
"Lot of starch in that, mate. Everything a growing hobbit needs," Billy said with a sad smile and a look of sympathy. Sean made a face as he tried a bite.
"Poor thing. I do feel for you," Dom said in what was probably the most serious tone he'd used all day, then he threw his arm around Sean for a quick hug. Elijah couldn't help it--a tiny flash of something dark, something ugly stirred inside him. His eyes met Sean's across the table; Sean's warm gaze soothing him, sending a quick message of understanding. Then he was aware of Dom's gaze on him, noting him with a slight frown. He tried to look away, but there was some sort of a challenge there, something that made him want to stare back and return the rivalry . . . rivalry? For what?
Dom seemed about to ask him something, but Sean glanced at his watch and jumped up. "Time to get back, guys! Fun dialect coaching for you and me, 'Lij."
Elijah scooted out from the booth, Billy close behind, muttering, "Oh joy, I get to be fitted for chain mail today. That should be fun." He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Wish we'd get to the horseback training again instead. Or canoeing. Anything but standing around."
Elijah couldn't help but grin--just something about the way Billy talked made everything he said funny. He gave him a hard hug. "Next week. Lots more physical stuff next week. You'll wish you were standing still."
"Dinner at Billy's? Since he's declared he can actually cook?" Dom asked as Sean gathered up his uneaten potato salad to go and let Dom out past him--a feat only possible by clambering over him. Sean got up last. He looked as tired as Elijah felt.
"That's sounds fine," Elijah said, looking to Billy to make sure it was. Elijah debated letting Billy and Dom walk ahead so he could talk to Sean, but that would look strange--they obviously wanted to walk all together. He threw Sean another look, then fell in with them.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he'd still fucked everything up. Not just with Sean. All the hobbits, now.
*****
TBC
*****
Part: 2/? EW/SA
Author: Diamond (juweldom@yahoo.com )
Rating: R this chapter
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. 2. Dishonest.
*****
There was awkward silence in the locker room. Elijah wondered if he should wait and let Sean hit the showers first, or if he should just lock himself up in one of the toilets to take care of matters quickly so he didn’t have to embarrass both of them. Oh, he'd royally fucked this one up, without a doubt.
Tossing aside his shirt, Elijah risked a glance over at Sean. Shit. Yep, he was staring at him. Elijah smiled and blushed, trying to gather the courage to say something.
Sean spoke first. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
Wasn't he supposed to say that? "Oh not at all. I just feel kind of silly. I'm only interested in being friends, you understand." Yeah, right. Get him a tiara and Cleopatra's boat right now. And wipe that damned blush off his cheeks.
"Oh--right," Sean stammered, then slowly took off his sweatshirt, his back to Elijah. Something hot coiled within his stomach--Elijah debated whether to say more. Sean had looked disappointed there for a moment. Silence dragged out between them.
"Do you want to shower first?" Sean asked, still not looking at him. Elijah could have beaten his head into the wall for his stupidity. So long, friendship. Hello awkward work partner.
"Uh, that's ok--you can go first--I was just going to use the toilet . . ." he couldn't believe he was actually saying that, as if it wasn't painfully obvious what he needed to do. Sweat pants didn't hide erections terribly well--he'd give them that. Fuck, even his nipples were hard. Somebody tell that Astin to put his shirt back on.
Sean drew in a deep breath and turned around, and suddenly Elijah noted how he was holding his sweatshirt in front of himself, as a possible cover up. He was blushing too. "Mm, Elijah, you know I could probably get away with something that wasn't too intimate. Like if you need any help . . . I doubt Christine would have a problem with that." Without waiting for a response, he dropped his gaze, then dropped his pants, and went into the showers.
After Elijah had picked his jaw off the floor, he decided to join him.
The water was on, and Sean was halfway through lathering when Elijah stepped up beside him, as nervous as if this was his first time ever and just as excited too. He didn't feel right making the first move--after all, he wasn't the one taking a big risk here--so he shyly just reached out for the soap and began the perfunctory task of washing himself, only his skin was so sensitized now being nude and next to Sean, not knowing exactly what was going to happen, suddenly just the act of sudsing up under his arms and letting the water hit the back of his neck was becoming this lewd show for his friend.
And when Sean did reach out to help him wash his back, wrapping his arms around to do it and letting their cocks touch, he seriously thought about fainting again. Evidently Sean was a little worried about that too, for he held onto his waist tight, steadying him. Elijah leaned forward to kiss his partly open lips, but before he closed the distance, Sean whispered, "We probably shouldn't . . . ah . . . kiss . . . ah--oh fuck," and just as Elijah was pulling back to obey his request, Sean leaned forward and kissed him, hard, expertly, sucking Elijah's tongue into his mouth until Elijah was ready to climb on top of him and start riding--oh damn, whatever happened to 'platonic'?! Who cared. He was in heaven.
Sean reached between them and began stroking, and that was what Elijah had been waiting for--he grabbed Sean's cock as well--solid, thick, and whoever thought short guys weren't packing was really fucked in the head. He groaned into Sean's mouth as his climax neared, every sensation a torture now, some freaking bubbles from the soap sliding into the crack of his ass, the hot water beating a tempo on his shoulders to flow between them and over their hands--oh god, *nothing* like the feel of a wet cock. Sean was groaning deep in his throat, bear sounds, how appropriate--and then it was like a light switch being turned on--they were both coming, onto each other's chests, the water quickly washing away the evidence, down the drain. They stood for a moment gently touching each other, breathing softly into each other's mouths. Sean's stomach rumbled.
"Oh yeah. Lunch," Elijah said, in a weak, breathy voice. Sean chuckled. Gently Sean changed their positions to go under the showerhead.
"Let me just rinse off here, then I'll get dressed. Billy and Dom will be wondering what happened to us."
They finished quickly--no lingering kisses, just a friendly pat on the arm and a conspiring grin or two (actually Elijah couldn't seem to stop grinning, so that probably counted for dozens), then they were getting dressed and heading over to the cafeteria. It didn't seem appropriate to hold hands, or show any outward sign of what had just occurred. They were just friends. Nothing was going to change; at least, Elijah hoped not.
Catering was serving something called Plate Lunch, a chicken teriyaki and rice kinda thing. Sean and Elijah grabbed plates and joined Dom and Billy at a booth, making the two of them scoot over and make room. Elijah sat down next to Billy.
"We were starting to wonder what happened to you two," Billy said with a laugh, bumping against Elijah playfully.
Elijah groaned. "My poor abused arms! They made me do extra presses." He wasted no more time on words but began to shovel food into his mouth, hardly tasting it. Across the table, Sean was doing the same while Dom watched them both with a strange quirky grin on his face.
"You are such a baby, Elijah," Dom said with a laugh. He was sitting with legs folded into his chest and sprang up to grab one of Elijah's pieces of chicken; before Elijah could make a sound he'd popped it into his mouth with a loud smack, looking wicked. Elijah glared at him.
"Cunt." Heh, such a thrill to say that and not get shocked looks from half the room here.
"Wanker," Dom quipped.
"As often as possible," Elijah agreed, his mouth full.
"I believe that!" Dom said wryly, licking his fingers. Elijah shrugged and wrinkled his nose at him, trying not to blush. What did the fucker know anyway.
"I think Dom won that round," Billy said in his lilting voice, grinning.
"Mm-hmm," Sean said around another biteful. Elijah was not in the mood to think up a witty comeback, so he shrugged again and continued eating. Lunch break was almost over anyways, and his legs felt about the consistence of jelly right now, in the aftermath of the shower. About time for a nap, if you asked him.
Seeing that there would be no goading him, Dom turned to talk of weekend plans, encouraging Sean to come watch some local football--real football, not that American shit, and Elijah drifted, trying *not* to think of the future; especially the weekend, as he would have to look at Christine and begin the lies. Well actually, the lies had started right here, he realized, with these two new friends. Not that it was their business, of course. Sean reluctantly was agreeing to Dom's plans when one of the catering ladies came up with a plastic container of something white and sticky looking.
"From Peter," she said, and left it on Sean's plate.
He looked at it and moaned, throwing up his hands. "But I don't even like potato salad!" He glared at the lady, but she was already retreating. He sighed and poked at it with his fork.
"Lot of starch in that, mate. Everything a growing hobbit needs," Billy said with a sad smile and a look of sympathy. Sean made a face as he tried a bite.
"Poor thing. I do feel for you," Dom said in what was probably the most serious tone he'd used all day, then he threw his arm around Sean for a quick hug. Elijah couldn't help it--a tiny flash of something dark, something ugly stirred inside him. His eyes met Sean's across the table; Sean's warm gaze soothing him, sending a quick message of understanding. Then he was aware of Dom's gaze on him, noting him with a slight frown. He tried to look away, but there was some sort of a challenge there, something that made him want to stare back and return the rivalry . . . rivalry? For what?
Dom seemed about to ask him something, but Sean glanced at his watch and jumped up. "Time to get back, guys! Fun dialect coaching for you and me, 'Lij."
Elijah scooted out from the booth, Billy close behind, muttering, "Oh joy, I get to be fitted for chain mail today. That should be fun." He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Wish we'd get to the horseback training again instead. Or canoeing. Anything but standing around."
Elijah couldn't help but grin--just something about the way Billy talked made everything he said funny. He gave him a hard hug. "Next week. Lots more physical stuff next week. You'll wish you were standing still."
"Dinner at Billy's? Since he's declared he can actually cook?" Dom asked as Sean gathered up his uneaten potato salad to go and let Dom out past him--a feat only possible by clambering over him. Sean got up last. He looked as tired as Elijah felt.
"That's sounds fine," Elijah said, looking to Billy to make sure it was. Elijah debated letting Billy and Dom walk ahead so he could talk to Sean, but that would look strange--they obviously wanted to walk all together. He threw Sean another look, then fell in with them.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he'd still fucked everything up. Not just with Sean. All the hobbits, now.
*****
TBC
*****