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fellowshippers2004-03-30 02:38 pm
jcole.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-03-30 02:38 pm
Ficlet: Brave New World (BB-EW, G.)
Title: Brave New World
Author: Jamie
Pairing: BB-EW (technically gen, but intened to be pre-slashy)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own. Such a pity.
Summary: "It had been three years since Billy had been in the same room as Elijah, and before the day before yesterday, it had been five months since they'd talked on the phone."
Author's Notes: At some point, I shall write something that's longer than a ficlet and has more by way of plot and conception than wanting to write something that gave me warm fuzzies. But this is not that ficlet. Posted to my journal and fellow_shippers. Will eventually be up on my small, but slowly growing web page, here.
Brave New World
It had been three years since Billy had been in the same room as Elijah, and before the day before yesterday, it had been five months since they’d talked on the phone, so Billy thought that he had a right to be worried, nervous, now that their impending reunion was near, only minutes away.
He was sitting in a chair, *his* chair, one that he’d had so long now that it had molded itself to the shape of his body. He was drumming his fingers up and down on the soft leather of the arm and the repetitive action wasn’t making time pass any more quickly or slowly—honestly, Billy wasn’t sure which he’d prefer—but it was marking the passage of time. That much he knew.
He also thought that it was making him more nervous, so he made himself stop.
When he did, though, his foot started tapping and his knee started bouncing up and down and soon he felt as if he was only a twitchy mass of tension and nerves. Also, his bottom lip felt raw, tender from the number of times he’d rubbed his teeth over it, bit at it, since he’d sat down in his chair.
Five years before, when Billy and Elijah were still talking biweekly, when they’d still made time in their schedules to see each other and the rest of the rings cast a few times a year, Billy would have laughed at the idea that he’d ever be nervous around the other man.
‘Best mate,’ he would have said. Or, perhaps he would have broken into song: ‘Ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, to keep me from getting to him (especially to annoy him).’ Something.
More so with Dom, of course, definitely now, but five years before, he would have said the same thing about Elijah. It’d only been six months since he last saw Dom, after all. Only two weeks since they had last talked on the phone. But then again, Dom’s career hadn’t taken off like Elijah’s had. Dom wasn’t a regular on talk shows and cooking shows and entertainment shows and any other shows that managed to book Elijah’s extremely hot commodity of a self onto their programs.
Even three years ago, Billy was pretty sure he would have laughed at the idea of feeling as if he didn’t know Elijah all that well anymore. He wasn’t laughing now, though, because it was the truth.
He hadn’t known what to say when he’d first heard Elijah’s voice on the other end of the phone line two days before. He’d had to open and close his mouth twice before he’d managed to respond to Elijah’s greeting. Swallow twice, trying to relieve a suddenly dry throat.
"Billy Boyd," Elijah had said. "How you doing, man?"
The younger man had been speaking as if it hadn’t been five months since they’d last talked on the phone, and after Billy had managed to stammer out his own greeting, he remembered almost feeling as if it hadn’t been, too.
But then Elijah had said that he was coming to see Billy. Provided that Bill was free, of course. He was going to be in Glasgow doing promotional-type things for his latest movie, Elijah had explained, and Billy had suddenly been confronted with the thought of actually seeing Elijah again. Then he’d remembered how long it had been since they’d been in the same room, how long it had been since they’d last talked on the phone.
That was when he’d started to get nervous.
There was a difference, after all, between keeping in touch with someone through infrequent phone calls and then actually seeing them in person. With phone calls, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed between them. That the occasional bordering on awkward silences were the result being forced to keep in touch over the phone and didn’t, in any way, reflect the fact that the two of them didn’t know what to say to one another anymore.
Deep down, though, Billy knew the truth.
Deep down, he feared that actually seeing Elijah would confirm the truth.
Back in the present again, Billy’s palms were feeling too hot, too damp and almost sticky feeling against his slacks, and he was staring at his front door with as much intensity as he could muster.
As if that would induce, or possibly prevent, the knocking that he was waiting for.
He sat there, staring, and his knee was still bouncing up and down, rocking his whole body with short, sharp tremors. His shoulders had started to ache from the tension that he was holding within his body. Then he was jerking in time with the three short, rather soft knocks that he’d been waiting for.
He stilled for a moment and then he stood up, the leather of his chair squeaking under his shifting bodyweight. He took one deep breath immediately and another when he’d walked across the room to the door, when he’d rested his hand on the knob inside.
Then he turned it and the door swung open, showing that Elijah was, in fact, actually standing there on Billy’s doorstep, smiling his wide, should-be-patented Elijah Wood smile.
In that instant, as Billy stared at him, he truly felt each and every one of the three long years that it’d been since they’d last seen each other.
Then Elijah said, "Billy! Man, you look good," as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked Billy up and down, apparently appraising him, and Billy replied, "So do you."
He’d known that, though. He’d known how Elijah has changed over the years, because how many talk shows had he been on, how many magazine covers since they’d last seen each other?
Also, Billy mentally cursed his voice, because it squeaked and shuddered over those three words, like it was a rusty appliance. One he hadn’t used in far too long.
Elijah responded with a little shrug and he ducked his head, as if to deny Billy’s words. There was a certain glint in his eyes, though, that made Billy reach out with one forefinger to tap the younger man on the nose.
It was an instinctive gesture, one that Billy knew he wouldn’t have done if he’d actually thought about it.
"Don’t pull that humble act with me, you little faker," he said, his voice suddenly stronger, not cracking at all. "You know you look good and I know you know it."
And suddenly, Billy realized that he did know that about Elijah. That he did know Elijah still, if he knew that, no matter that three years had gone by since they’d last seen each other. Suddenly, to Billy, it seemed as if it had only been the day before that they’d last said their goodbyes.
Billy looked at Elijah again and he no longer felt as if there was an awkward distance between them. The boundaries of the unknown were gone.
He reached out again, much like he would have five years before, and this time he curled his hand around the back of Elijah’s neck, using the grip to draw the other man forward, into Billy’s house.
"It’s been a long time," Elijah said, and Billy nodded as he shut the door behind them.
"But we’re still here," he said. And they were.
End.
Author: Jamie
Pairing: BB-EW (technically gen, but intened to be pre-slashy)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own. Such a pity.
Summary: "It had been three years since Billy had been in the same room as Elijah, and before the day before yesterday, it had been five months since they'd talked on the phone."
Author's Notes: At some point, I shall write something that's longer than a ficlet and has more by way of plot and conception than wanting to write something that gave me warm fuzzies. But this is not that ficlet. Posted to my journal and fellow_shippers. Will eventually be up on my small, but slowly growing web page, here.
Brave New World
It had been three years since Billy had been in the same room as Elijah, and before the day before yesterday, it had been five months since they’d talked on the phone, so Billy thought that he had a right to be worried, nervous, now that their impending reunion was near, only minutes away.
He was sitting in a chair, *his* chair, one that he’d had so long now that it had molded itself to the shape of his body. He was drumming his fingers up and down on the soft leather of the arm and the repetitive action wasn’t making time pass any more quickly or slowly—honestly, Billy wasn’t sure which he’d prefer—but it was marking the passage of time. That much he knew.
He also thought that it was making him more nervous, so he made himself stop.
When he did, though, his foot started tapping and his knee started bouncing up and down and soon he felt as if he was only a twitchy mass of tension and nerves. Also, his bottom lip felt raw, tender from the number of times he’d rubbed his teeth over it, bit at it, since he’d sat down in his chair.
Five years before, when Billy and Elijah were still talking biweekly, when they’d still made time in their schedules to see each other and the rest of the rings cast a few times a year, Billy would have laughed at the idea that he’d ever be nervous around the other man.
‘Best mate,’ he would have said. Or, perhaps he would have broken into song: ‘Ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, to keep me from getting to him (especially to annoy him).’ Something.
More so with Dom, of course, definitely now, but five years before, he would have said the same thing about Elijah. It’d only been six months since he last saw Dom, after all. Only two weeks since they had last talked on the phone. But then again, Dom’s career hadn’t taken off like Elijah’s had. Dom wasn’t a regular on talk shows and cooking shows and entertainment shows and any other shows that managed to book Elijah’s extremely hot commodity of a self onto their programs.
Even three years ago, Billy was pretty sure he would have laughed at the idea of feeling as if he didn’t know Elijah all that well anymore. He wasn’t laughing now, though, because it was the truth.
He hadn’t known what to say when he’d first heard Elijah’s voice on the other end of the phone line two days before. He’d had to open and close his mouth twice before he’d managed to respond to Elijah’s greeting. Swallow twice, trying to relieve a suddenly dry throat.
"Billy Boyd," Elijah had said. "How you doing, man?"
The younger man had been speaking as if it hadn’t been five months since they’d last talked on the phone, and after Billy had managed to stammer out his own greeting, he remembered almost feeling as if it hadn’t been, too.
But then Elijah had said that he was coming to see Billy. Provided that Bill was free, of course. He was going to be in Glasgow doing promotional-type things for his latest movie, Elijah had explained, and Billy had suddenly been confronted with the thought of actually seeing Elijah again. Then he’d remembered how long it had been since they’d been in the same room, how long it had been since they’d last talked on the phone.
That was when he’d started to get nervous.
There was a difference, after all, between keeping in touch with someone through infrequent phone calls and then actually seeing them in person. With phone calls, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed between them. That the occasional bordering on awkward silences were the result being forced to keep in touch over the phone and didn’t, in any way, reflect the fact that the two of them didn’t know what to say to one another anymore.
Deep down, though, Billy knew the truth.
Deep down, he feared that actually seeing Elijah would confirm the truth.
Back in the present again, Billy’s palms were feeling too hot, too damp and almost sticky feeling against his slacks, and he was staring at his front door with as much intensity as he could muster.
As if that would induce, or possibly prevent, the knocking that he was waiting for.
He sat there, staring, and his knee was still bouncing up and down, rocking his whole body with short, sharp tremors. His shoulders had started to ache from the tension that he was holding within his body. Then he was jerking in time with the three short, rather soft knocks that he’d been waiting for.
He stilled for a moment and then he stood up, the leather of his chair squeaking under his shifting bodyweight. He took one deep breath immediately and another when he’d walked across the room to the door, when he’d rested his hand on the knob inside.
Then he turned it and the door swung open, showing that Elijah was, in fact, actually standing there on Billy’s doorstep, smiling his wide, should-be-patented Elijah Wood smile.
In that instant, as Billy stared at him, he truly felt each and every one of the three long years that it’d been since they’d last seen each other.
Then Elijah said, "Billy! Man, you look good," as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked Billy up and down, apparently appraising him, and Billy replied, "So do you."
He’d known that, though. He’d known how Elijah has changed over the years, because how many talk shows had he been on, how many magazine covers since they’d last seen each other?
Also, Billy mentally cursed his voice, because it squeaked and shuddered over those three words, like it was a rusty appliance. One he hadn’t used in far too long.
Elijah responded with a little shrug and he ducked his head, as if to deny Billy’s words. There was a certain glint in his eyes, though, that made Billy reach out with one forefinger to tap the younger man on the nose.
It was an instinctive gesture, one that Billy knew he wouldn’t have done if he’d actually thought about it.
"Don’t pull that humble act with me, you little faker," he said, his voice suddenly stronger, not cracking at all. "You know you look good and I know you know it."
And suddenly, Billy realized that he did know that about Elijah. That he did know Elijah still, if he knew that, no matter that three years had gone by since they’d last seen each other. Suddenly, to Billy, it seemed as if it had only been the day before that they’d last said their goodbyes.
Billy looked at Elijah again and he no longer felt as if there was an awkward distance between them. The boundaries of the unknown were gone.
He reached out again, much like he would have five years before, and this time he curled his hand around the back of Elijah’s neck, using the grip to draw the other man forward, into Billy’s house.
"It’s been a long time," Elijah said, and Billy nodded as he shut the door behind them.
"But we’re still here," he said. And they were.
End.
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