I fell apart a bit, okay? Some of these are drabbles, and some turned into slightly longer vignettes, and I found that I didn’t want to try and reduce them.
Elijah/Viggo/Sean B
He had no idea how he had ended up in this – predicament – but as Viggo pressed into him, making him howl, and Sean’s mouth engulfed him, causing him to almost slip a disc as his hips shot forward, Elijah thought that this really wasn’t the time to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He may have been old, but Viggo had stamina, and he knew what to do with that cock of his, and Sean’s mouth was hot and clever. It wasn’t long before Elijah was a whimpering mess, trying to thrust backwards and forwards at the same time, and ending up twitching uselessly in the middle.
He had no idea who came first, or in what order, but all he knew for sure was that as he lay sandwiched between two wonderfully big bodies he had never felt so perfectly relaxed.
He hoped he could get into this predicament again.
**
Boromir/Aragorn(ish)
"A gift to the foes of Mordor," Boromir had said earlier. A gift to be used, to turn the evil back on itself. A gift to keep his home, his brother, his father, safe. A gift to keep the newly-returned King of Men safe until he could claim his throne. But there, Boromir’s mind would go no further, not understanding what would happen when that time came.
He turned and started as he met Aragorn’s eyes across the flickering embers of the dying fire.
Keep him safe, Boromir thought, not knowing where the thought came from. Let him be safe.
**
Frodo/Sam
"It’s a gift," Sam said. "Naught special, mind you."
"But why? It’s not your birthday."
"Because I wanted to do this for you." Sam moved his hands and Frodo stood blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.
"Oh…" The table was spread with all good things, delicacies to tempt a fading appetite. The best linen glowed white in the candlelight, the same light catching two high spots of fevered colour on Frodo’s cheeks as he turned to Sam.
"Bless you, Sam, but I already have a gift." He kissed Sam’s cheek, his lips dry. "The only gift I need."
**
Elijah/Dom
"You are the most awkward bugger to buy for," Dom declared, throwing an envelope at Elijah. "Difficult bastard."
"Thank you for the love so bright it almost blinds," Elijah replied, grinning as Dom stuck two fingers up. "What is it?"
"It’s a present, ‘tard. Open it."
Elijah opened the envelope, pulling out a plane ticket.
"What?" Elijah looked at Dom. "Thought you wanted to do this on your own."
"Hawaii," replied Dom, his eyes softening. "Find that I can’t live without you after all."
Climbing out of his chair, ticket forgotten, Elijah kissed Dom until neither of them could breathe.
**
Elijah/Sean A
"You have a gift," said Sean. "You make people feel as if they’re worth more than they really are."
"No," Elijah put his arms around Sean’s waist. "I see people for what they are, and I see when they want something they think they shouldn’t have." He shook his head. "Some people say that we’re opposites, and that’s maybe not a good thing, but I don’t see it like that." He kissed Sean. "Different pieces of the same puzzle," he said. "We fit. Never fitted anyone like I fit you." Sean kissed him, and the universe slid into perfect alignment.
**
Elijah/Ian
"I brought you this," Elijah said, kneeling at Ian’s feet. "I hope you like it."
Ian picked up the quartz figure, a magnificent depiction of a horse emerging from the living rock, beautiful and delicately crafted.
"It’s beautiful," he said, turning the figure over and over. "Thank you. But why..?"
"Because I thought you’d like it," Elijah said. "Because I wanted to give you something that wasn’t cheesey or sad."
"I’ll keep it forever," Ian said, swallowing past a ridiculous lump in his throat. "It’ll remind me of our time here." He brushed his fingers across Elijah’s pale, perfect face, and Elijah smiled up at him, still young in so many ways.
Sighing, Ian ran his finger across the rough surface of the rock that was still holding the horse captive, his eyes closing in a sudden flush of shame as he thought of what he had done.
"Thank you." He leaned down and kissed Elijah lightly, no more than a peck on the lips. Or at least that was how it was intended. Unaware, he moved his hand, resting it against the back of Elijah’s neck, holding him there as he deepened the kiss, completely and irrevocably lost in the sweetness of the youth at his feet.
When Elijah struggled to his feet, Ian sat back, shocked at what he had done.
"Elijah, I’m…."
"No biggie," Elijah said, and Ian almost believed him until he remembered what a consummate actor the young man was. "But it was kind of an over-reaction for a bit of stone, you know?"
The day after that, Ian had left New Zealand, taking with him his memories, his battered old hat, and, deep inside his suitcase, the carving of a horse given to him by a boy who had yet to realise his own power.
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