ext_46181 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2006-08-11 05:00 pm
v-angelique.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-08-11 05:00 pm
Fic: Controlled 6/45
Title: Controlled (6/?)
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series, PG-13 for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo
Warnings: BDSM overall, none this chapter
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: A gift is given, a holiday is shared, and Elijah is very, very confused.
A/N: Shit!! Late again. If anyone reading this notices on a Monday or Thursday night that it isn't posted and is disappointed, please feel free to ping me or leave a comment. I usually just forget what day it is. I'm loopy like that.
Previous Chapters
Elijah wasn’t sure why he felt embarrassed, knocking on the door to the trailer Viggo, Orlando, and Sean Bean shared late Monday afternoon. He had been in a good mood, as they had wrapped early enough, and he was looking forward to giving Viggo the birthday present that had been sitting in his trailer all morning in its cheery gift bag, but now he suddenly felt self-conscious.
The first time he went to a Lush store was in Chicago, and he fell in love. All the handmade soaps, lotions, and massage products were colourful and sweet smelling, a little expensive but the perfect treat after a long day on set. He particularly liked the massage bars; his favourite was adorned with little adzuki beads that dug firmly into his skin when he rubbed on a sore muscle, and smelled of cinnamon. He always favoured kitchen-smells when it came to cosmetics, cinnamon and vanilla and coconut that reminded him of baking in his grandma’s kitchen when he was a child. Naturally, he had been thrilled when he discovered that Lush not only had online ordering, but a location in Wellington as well.
Now, clutching a bag full of carefully picked-out items—one of the “magic muscles” massage bars he liked so much, the “Angles on Bare Skin” facial cleanser made from a real medieval recipe, a conditioner that smelled like coconut, a “French Kiss” lavender bubble bath bar, a ginger “Elixir” bath melt, and “Karma” soap—he wasn’t so sure. It had seemed like a wonderfully personal gift on Sunday when he did the shopping, and something that Viggo would really appreciate, but he wondered what Sean and Orli would think. Maybe a mix CD would have been better.
The door swung open as soon as his knuckles had rapped once, however, and he had no chance to change his mind, narrowly missing Orli’s forehead in the process.
“Hey, mate! Come on in! What’s up?”
“Oh, I just—Viggo still here?” he asked, poking his head around Orlando’s shoulder to make the question redundant when he found Viggo sitting in his makeup chair, a woman diligently scrubbing the glue from where his wig had been and unpinning his hair at the same time.
Viggo smiled when he caught Elijah’s eye in the mirror, setting down his book carefully on the counter. “How are you, ‘Lijah?”
Elijah smiled, hesitantly. “I’m great. Um, I brought you this… you know, Happy Birthday again and all that.”
Viggo smiled and took the bag from him. “You didn’t have to do this,” he protested, but looked pleased as he removed the bright coloured tissue paper on top and inspected the various items. Orli, on the other hand, was beside himself when he realized what the gift was, and grabbed up the first thing he saw before Elijah could snatch it out of his hand, reading the label aloud.
Oh, shit. Not that one. Anything but that.
“The ‘It’s a Pleasure Treasure’ massage bar,” Orli read, clearing his throat with a shit eating grin on his face, “is flavoured with honey and hibiscus so if you happen to kiss the area you’re massaging it will taste almost as good as it feels. It’s brilliant for making your skin soft—take a look at those fabulous ingredients—and superbly scented with essential oils to help you forget your worries and concentrate on the matters at hand—or hands.” Orli finished with a flourish, laughing loudly as he tossed the heart-shaped massage bar back in the pile, and Elijah just stared at the floor, his cheeks about ten shades of crimson, screaming at himself not to cry.
“I just like the way the honey smells,” he mumbled to himself. Why oh why had he picked that up at the last minute? Couldn’t just stick with the plain old lemongrass and lavender…
“Hey.” Viggo’s voice was soft and comforting as he swivelled around to face Elijah, who was about two seconds away from losing it when Viggo reached out and took one of his nail-bitten hands between two larger, rougher ones. “I think it’s a wonderful present,” he said gently, and Elijah forced himself to look up and meet Viggo’s eyes. He was smiling, at least, so maybe he didn’t think Elijah was a complete nutter.
“Uh… thanks. I just thought you might like… I mean, their products are very relaxing…” Orli snickered somewhere over Elijah’s right shoulder, but Viggo just shot him a look that would frighten the dead, and silence fell again.
“It’s perfect, ‘Lij. Come here.” Elijah allowed Viggo to pull him down into a hug, and sighed when Viggo’s lips brushed his cheek, willing himself not to act like a sentimental poof. Just because he liked bubble baths, Orli didn’t have to be an arsehole. Viggo seemed to like the gift, and that was good enough for him.
“Right, then,” he announced, straightening up. “I’m glad you like it. I’m gonna, uh, go get my stuff now.”
“Okay. Still on for Thursday?”
“Yeah, come over as soon as we’re finished.”
Orli smirked once more as Elijah headed for the door, and he thought he saw Sean covering laughter with the back of his hand out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t really care. Viggo was over forty, quite masculine, and had French lotion in his bathroom, thank you. So there.
“Elijah, dear, could please pass me the cranberries…oof!” Christine gasped as a rambunctious child went careening into her legs. “Ally, honey, could you please watch where you’re going?” She smiled gratefully as Elijah handed her a bag and struggled to manage both child and cooking at once. “Thanks hon.”
Elijah grinned as Christine poured the bag of freshly washed cranberries in the blender she had carted over to Elijah’s apartment. He then lowered himself into a crouch on the lino of his kitchen floor, trying to get Ally’s attention to avoid her interference with the more experienced cooks—that is, not Elijah. Christine and Ally had been at Elijah’s all day, getting a turkey and all the fixings ready while the boys were shooting, and now only the last few bits needed to be done. Elijah hadn’t started his pie yet, waiting for the kitchen to be a little emptier, and grinned when Ally took off at a run as the doorbell rang, interrupting their just-started game of patty cake to careen full-speed into her favourite “uncle’s” knees.
“Viggo!! Did you bring me a pwesent?” Viggo smiled as he scooped up the little girl in her red plaid dress into his arms, her patent-leather shoes swinging haphazardly against his stomach as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Viggo apologized with a truly regretful look. “Today I brought a present for Mommy and Daddy and Uncle Elijah, but I promise I’ll take you into consideration next time.”
Ally pouted dramatically as Viggo handed off a bottle of wine to Sean, but gave up her act when he spontaneously lifted her dress and began blowing raspberries on her stomach.
“Viggo! Viggo, stoppit! Lijah, Lijah, make him stoppit!!” she squealed, and Elijah just grinned.
“Well I don’t know Ally, she who asks for presents when it’s not her birthday might just deserve what she gets…”
“I’m sowy, I’m sowy Uncle Lijah! No pwesents! Just make him stoppit!!” Elijah smiled and relented, turning to Viggo with a twinkle in his eye.
“Stop it,” he whispered conspiratorially in Viggo’s ear, and the older man looked up briefly.
“Well hello there.”
Elijah rolled his eyes at Viggo’s greeting as the older man carefully set Ally down and gave Elijah a nice tight hug.
“Hey, thanks for the wine.”
“No problem. What can I do to help?” Viggo asked.
“Well I think Christine’s got it pretty much under control,” Elijah replied. “Oh, but wait. I know… hey Chris, you almost done with the cranberry relish?” he called, leading the way to the kitchen as Sean scooped his daughter out of the way and moved to the living area to interest her in a jigsaw puzzle.
“Just putting it into the fridge right now… oh hi, Viggo!” Christine smiled and shut the fridge door, coming over to give Viggo a hug as Elijah started taking things out of cupboards. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too, Christine. You look lovely as always,” Viggo stated with the utmost sincerity.
“Aw, aren’t you the charmer?” Christine grinned and Elijah just rolled his eyes. “What? You could learn some manners from this boy, ‘Lijah! Now are you starting the pie?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elijah replied with a sloppy salute. “We should be done in fifteen minutes or so. Why don’t you go out there with Sean and relax? We’ll bring the food out when it’s ready.”
“Okay, thanks. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Elijah turned to Viggo as she left the kitchen and put his hands on his hips with a grin. “Well, are you going to let the master teach you how to make a pumpkin pie or not?”
Viggo laughed and took a few steps towards Elijah, surveying the ingredients laid out on the counter.
“Sure, just tell me what to do.”
“Right, well why don’t you open those cans and I’ll get out the eggs?”
Viggo dutifully used the can opener to open a can of Libby’s Pumpkin Pie mix and another can of Carnation Evaporated milk while Elijah stuck his head in the somewhat disorganized fridge, pawing around for eggs.
“Where the hell did you get canned pumpkin pie mix around here, anyway?” Viggo asked curiously as he dumped the contents of the two cans in a large bowl and awaited further instruction.
“Hannah. She sent them in the mail for me; figured it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without the pie.”
Viggo smiled as Elijah cracked the eggs in the bowl and began to stir vigorously, his tongue just poking out of the corner of his mouth as he balanced the bowl on his hip.
“You know, you can make this stuff with an actual pumpkin.”
“I guess, but where are you going to find a pumpkin in New Zealand?” Elijah countered. “Next you’re going to tell me you hand-bake your own pie crusts.”
“Well, actually…”
“Oh shut up and hold for me,” Elijah grumbled as he finished stirring. Viggo just laughed and steadied the pie tin as Elijah poured the batter in. “Now give it a shake. Very important.”
Viggo pretended to stare at the pie in deep concentration as he levelled it out, and then waited for Elijah to open the oven door for him, sliding the pie onto the top rack.
“Shit!” Elijah cursed as he reached in to slide the pie back a bit further, accidentally pressing his forearm against the heating coils in the process. “Jesus, that fucking hurts…” Elijah grumbled as he closed the oven and stuck his hand under the cool tap, the water coursing over a small red spot on his forearm.
Viggo frowned in concern as he watched the younger man hiss in pain. “Here, let me,” he insisted, taking Elijah’s arm and patting it dry, then reaching for the bottle of lotion over the sink and squirting a bit directly onto the burn mark. Elijah was thankful that Viggo didn’t ask why he kept hand lotion over his kitchen sink and just sighed as practiced thumbs rubbed the cool substance into the burn. After a sufficiently awkward moment, though, they seemed to simultaneously recognize the tenderness of the motion and pulled away from each other at the same time. Elijah rolled up his sleeve quickly and turned around, trying to assess the damages to his kitchen and lighten the mood at the same time.
“Right, then. Well we’ve got the mashed potatoes—why don’t you take those?—and then I’ll grab the gravy and the stuffing…” Elijah quickly turned his back to Viggo as he begun stacking dishes of piping hot food, careful to school his expression in vague disinterest. What he did not allow himself to focus on was the acute sting of the calloused thumb pads against tender skin, or the cloudy mix of focus and understanding that he had found in Viggo’s eyes, carefully trained on his own as he completed the task.
The feeling itself was not unfamiliar. He was used to the thrill of a slight pain, to the way it made his skin feel prickly and alive, but he was not so used to the comfort of a touch that both soothed and slightly aggravated the damage already done, applying the balm but at the same time rubbing a bit more pain into sensitive nerve endings. Obviously, he needed to snap out of it, and instead focused with hyper-attention on the taste of the food, Ally’s endearing comments, and Sean’s slightly annoying doting—anything but Viggo, directly across the table, watching him with an almost practiced gaze.
Shit.
Author: Viktoria Angelique
Email: viktoria_angelique@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17 for series, PG-13 for this part
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo
Warnings: BDSM overall, none this chapter
Disclaimer: If this were true the world might be a better place.
Feedback: I love it!
Summary: A gift is given, a holiday is shared, and Elijah is very, very confused.
A/N: Shit!! Late again. If anyone reading this notices on a Monday or Thursday night that it isn't posted and is disappointed, please feel free to ping me or leave a comment. I usually just forget what day it is. I'm loopy like that.
Previous Chapters
Elijah wasn’t sure why he felt embarrassed, knocking on the door to the trailer Viggo, Orlando, and Sean Bean shared late Monday afternoon. He had been in a good mood, as they had wrapped early enough, and he was looking forward to giving Viggo the birthday present that had been sitting in his trailer all morning in its cheery gift bag, but now he suddenly felt self-conscious.
The first time he went to a Lush store was in Chicago, and he fell in love. All the handmade soaps, lotions, and massage products were colourful and sweet smelling, a little expensive but the perfect treat after a long day on set. He particularly liked the massage bars; his favourite was adorned with little adzuki beads that dug firmly into his skin when he rubbed on a sore muscle, and smelled of cinnamon. He always favoured kitchen-smells when it came to cosmetics, cinnamon and vanilla and coconut that reminded him of baking in his grandma’s kitchen when he was a child. Naturally, he had been thrilled when he discovered that Lush not only had online ordering, but a location in Wellington as well.
Now, clutching a bag full of carefully picked-out items—one of the “magic muscles” massage bars he liked so much, the “Angles on Bare Skin” facial cleanser made from a real medieval recipe, a conditioner that smelled like coconut, a “French Kiss” lavender bubble bath bar, a ginger “Elixir” bath melt, and “Karma” soap—he wasn’t so sure. It had seemed like a wonderfully personal gift on Sunday when he did the shopping, and something that Viggo would really appreciate, but he wondered what Sean and Orli would think. Maybe a mix CD would have been better.
The door swung open as soon as his knuckles had rapped once, however, and he had no chance to change his mind, narrowly missing Orli’s forehead in the process.
“Hey, mate! Come on in! What’s up?”
“Oh, I just—Viggo still here?” he asked, poking his head around Orlando’s shoulder to make the question redundant when he found Viggo sitting in his makeup chair, a woman diligently scrubbing the glue from where his wig had been and unpinning his hair at the same time.
Viggo smiled when he caught Elijah’s eye in the mirror, setting down his book carefully on the counter. “How are you, ‘Lijah?”
Elijah smiled, hesitantly. “I’m great. Um, I brought you this… you know, Happy Birthday again and all that.”
Viggo smiled and took the bag from him. “You didn’t have to do this,” he protested, but looked pleased as he removed the bright coloured tissue paper on top and inspected the various items. Orli, on the other hand, was beside himself when he realized what the gift was, and grabbed up the first thing he saw before Elijah could snatch it out of his hand, reading the label aloud.
Oh, shit. Not that one. Anything but that.
“The ‘It’s a Pleasure Treasure’ massage bar,” Orli read, clearing his throat with a shit eating grin on his face, “is flavoured with honey and hibiscus so if you happen to kiss the area you’re massaging it will taste almost as good as it feels. It’s brilliant for making your skin soft—take a look at those fabulous ingredients—and superbly scented with essential oils to help you forget your worries and concentrate on the matters at hand—or hands.” Orli finished with a flourish, laughing loudly as he tossed the heart-shaped massage bar back in the pile, and Elijah just stared at the floor, his cheeks about ten shades of crimson, screaming at himself not to cry.
“I just like the way the honey smells,” he mumbled to himself. Why oh why had he picked that up at the last minute? Couldn’t just stick with the plain old lemongrass and lavender…
“Hey.” Viggo’s voice was soft and comforting as he swivelled around to face Elijah, who was about two seconds away from losing it when Viggo reached out and took one of his nail-bitten hands between two larger, rougher ones. “I think it’s a wonderful present,” he said gently, and Elijah forced himself to look up and meet Viggo’s eyes. He was smiling, at least, so maybe he didn’t think Elijah was a complete nutter.
“Uh… thanks. I just thought you might like… I mean, their products are very relaxing…” Orli snickered somewhere over Elijah’s right shoulder, but Viggo just shot him a look that would frighten the dead, and silence fell again.
“It’s perfect, ‘Lij. Come here.” Elijah allowed Viggo to pull him down into a hug, and sighed when Viggo’s lips brushed his cheek, willing himself not to act like a sentimental poof. Just because he liked bubble baths, Orli didn’t have to be an arsehole. Viggo seemed to like the gift, and that was good enough for him.
“Right, then,” he announced, straightening up. “I’m glad you like it. I’m gonna, uh, go get my stuff now.”
“Okay. Still on for Thursday?”
“Yeah, come over as soon as we’re finished.”
Orli smirked once more as Elijah headed for the door, and he thought he saw Sean covering laughter with the back of his hand out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t really care. Viggo was over forty, quite masculine, and had French lotion in his bathroom, thank you. So there.
“Elijah, dear, could please pass me the cranberries…oof!” Christine gasped as a rambunctious child went careening into her legs. “Ally, honey, could you please watch where you’re going?” She smiled gratefully as Elijah handed her a bag and struggled to manage both child and cooking at once. “Thanks hon.”
Elijah grinned as Christine poured the bag of freshly washed cranberries in the blender she had carted over to Elijah’s apartment. He then lowered himself into a crouch on the lino of his kitchen floor, trying to get Ally’s attention to avoid her interference with the more experienced cooks—that is, not Elijah. Christine and Ally had been at Elijah’s all day, getting a turkey and all the fixings ready while the boys were shooting, and now only the last few bits needed to be done. Elijah hadn’t started his pie yet, waiting for the kitchen to be a little emptier, and grinned when Ally took off at a run as the doorbell rang, interrupting their just-started game of patty cake to careen full-speed into her favourite “uncle’s” knees.
“Viggo!! Did you bring me a pwesent?” Viggo smiled as he scooped up the little girl in her red plaid dress into his arms, her patent-leather shoes swinging haphazardly against his stomach as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Viggo apologized with a truly regretful look. “Today I brought a present for Mommy and Daddy and Uncle Elijah, but I promise I’ll take you into consideration next time.”
Ally pouted dramatically as Viggo handed off a bottle of wine to Sean, but gave up her act when he spontaneously lifted her dress and began blowing raspberries on her stomach.
“Viggo! Viggo, stoppit! Lijah, Lijah, make him stoppit!!” she squealed, and Elijah just grinned.
“Well I don’t know Ally, she who asks for presents when it’s not her birthday might just deserve what she gets…”
“I’m sowy, I’m sowy Uncle Lijah! No pwesents! Just make him stoppit!!” Elijah smiled and relented, turning to Viggo with a twinkle in his eye.
“Stop it,” he whispered conspiratorially in Viggo’s ear, and the older man looked up briefly.
“Well hello there.”
Elijah rolled his eyes at Viggo’s greeting as the older man carefully set Ally down and gave Elijah a nice tight hug.
“Hey, thanks for the wine.”
“No problem. What can I do to help?” Viggo asked.
“Well I think Christine’s got it pretty much under control,” Elijah replied. “Oh, but wait. I know… hey Chris, you almost done with the cranberry relish?” he called, leading the way to the kitchen as Sean scooped his daughter out of the way and moved to the living area to interest her in a jigsaw puzzle.
“Just putting it into the fridge right now… oh hi, Viggo!” Christine smiled and shut the fridge door, coming over to give Viggo a hug as Elijah started taking things out of cupboards. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too, Christine. You look lovely as always,” Viggo stated with the utmost sincerity.
“Aw, aren’t you the charmer?” Christine grinned and Elijah just rolled his eyes. “What? You could learn some manners from this boy, ‘Lijah! Now are you starting the pie?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elijah replied with a sloppy salute. “We should be done in fifteen minutes or so. Why don’t you go out there with Sean and relax? We’ll bring the food out when it’s ready.”
“Okay, thanks. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Elijah turned to Viggo as she left the kitchen and put his hands on his hips with a grin. “Well, are you going to let the master teach you how to make a pumpkin pie or not?”
Viggo laughed and took a few steps towards Elijah, surveying the ingredients laid out on the counter.
“Sure, just tell me what to do.”
“Right, well why don’t you open those cans and I’ll get out the eggs?”
Viggo dutifully used the can opener to open a can of Libby’s Pumpkin Pie mix and another can of Carnation Evaporated milk while Elijah stuck his head in the somewhat disorganized fridge, pawing around for eggs.
“Where the hell did you get canned pumpkin pie mix around here, anyway?” Viggo asked curiously as he dumped the contents of the two cans in a large bowl and awaited further instruction.
“Hannah. She sent them in the mail for me; figured it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without the pie.”
Viggo smiled as Elijah cracked the eggs in the bowl and began to stir vigorously, his tongue just poking out of the corner of his mouth as he balanced the bowl on his hip.
“You know, you can make this stuff with an actual pumpkin.”
“I guess, but where are you going to find a pumpkin in New Zealand?” Elijah countered. “Next you’re going to tell me you hand-bake your own pie crusts.”
“Well, actually…”
“Oh shut up and hold for me,” Elijah grumbled as he finished stirring. Viggo just laughed and steadied the pie tin as Elijah poured the batter in. “Now give it a shake. Very important.”
Viggo pretended to stare at the pie in deep concentration as he levelled it out, and then waited for Elijah to open the oven door for him, sliding the pie onto the top rack.
“Shit!” Elijah cursed as he reached in to slide the pie back a bit further, accidentally pressing his forearm against the heating coils in the process. “Jesus, that fucking hurts…” Elijah grumbled as he closed the oven and stuck his hand under the cool tap, the water coursing over a small red spot on his forearm.
Viggo frowned in concern as he watched the younger man hiss in pain. “Here, let me,” he insisted, taking Elijah’s arm and patting it dry, then reaching for the bottle of lotion over the sink and squirting a bit directly onto the burn mark. Elijah was thankful that Viggo didn’t ask why he kept hand lotion over his kitchen sink and just sighed as practiced thumbs rubbed the cool substance into the burn. After a sufficiently awkward moment, though, they seemed to simultaneously recognize the tenderness of the motion and pulled away from each other at the same time. Elijah rolled up his sleeve quickly and turned around, trying to assess the damages to his kitchen and lighten the mood at the same time.
“Right, then. Well we’ve got the mashed potatoes—why don’t you take those?—and then I’ll grab the gravy and the stuffing…” Elijah quickly turned his back to Viggo as he begun stacking dishes of piping hot food, careful to school his expression in vague disinterest. What he did not allow himself to focus on was the acute sting of the calloused thumb pads against tender skin, or the cloudy mix of focus and understanding that he had found in Viggo’s eyes, carefully trained on his own as he completed the task.
The feeling itself was not unfamiliar. He was used to the thrill of a slight pain, to the way it made his skin feel prickly and alive, but he was not so used to the comfort of a touch that both soothed and slightly aggravated the damage already done, applying the balm but at the same time rubbing a bit more pain into sensitive nerve endings. Obviously, he needed to snap out of it, and instead focused with hyper-attention on the taste of the food, Ally’s endearing comments, and Sean’s slightly annoying doting—anything but Viggo, directly across the table, watching him with an almost practiced gaze.
Shit.
no subject
I was so excited to see this update! I can't get enough of this story. I love that you're taking time to develop these characters and their relationship.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thanks for the newest chapter.
no subject