Okay. Here goes. This is a PWP – in fact it’s a PPWP – a Pointless Plot, What Plot. But it’s for Elijah’s birthday, so there we go. Now the link at the bottom of the page will take you to a very similar PWP, but with a different pairing. The one below is Sean/Lijah, the one attached to the link is Dom/Elijah. So why did I do that, you ask yourselves.
Because I wanted to try and show how I see these pairings; the differences between ‘my’ Domlijah, and ‘my’ Seanlijah. It’s surprising how different they turned out, in the end. Sean and Elijah have much less sex!
So, an amazingly happy birthday to Elijah. May he continue to blossom, and have the life he deserves.
I know that Ian would never be able to make it to the dinner in this fic. Put it down to artistic licence!
Birthday Boy – SeanLijah
Don’t know these lovely people. No offence intended or money made.
Sean woke up to the sound of running water. After the usual moment’s confusion as he tried to work out both who and where he was, he realised that he was listening to the shower running and that Elijah, by some miracle, had woken up first. He smiled and stretched, his body feeling pleasantly heavy and used, and he felt his smile widen into something approaching a silly grin as he thought of the long night just gone. Elijah had been very – determined.
He scrambled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom just as the water switched off, and a pink arm appeared from behind the shower curtain. Sean picked up the nearest towel and held it until Elijah grabbed it and pulled it back.
"Hey," Sean said, flapping at the curtain. "You woke first."
Elijah’s head appeared around the curtain, his hair flat against his forehead and his eyes screwed up as he tried to focus.
"Hey yourself," he answered. "You were sleeping like the dead. ‘Cept the dead don’t snore."
"I don’t snore!" Sean was positively outraged.
"Funny how people say that," Elijah commented, climbing out of the shower. "How do they know? They’re asleep. Trust me." He kissed Sean’s cheek. "I know."
"You need a shave," Sean said, running his hand across Elijah’s chin.
"What? Don’t you like my manly look?" Elijah struck a pose, and then scowled as Sean laughed. "Oh, okay."
"I like all your looks, but I like it when you shave." Sean hugged Elijah to him briefly. "Have you used all the hot water?"
"No. Want me to join you?"
"That would make you incredibly clean, wouldn’t it? Squeaky clean, in fact. And it would be very nice, but no, go away. Go downstairs and find some food."
*
When Sean arrived in the kitchen, he was met by a whirlwind as Elijah hugged him so hard that he thought a rib may have cracked.
"Excellent!" Elijah said, his tongue firmly in Sean’s ear. "The games for the x-box, the cds, the actually really very excellent suit …" he pulled back briefly and grinned wickedly. "I knew you liked me in green velvet. I’ll model that for you later and you can take it off me. With your teeth."
"You’re like a kid, did you know that?" Sean teased, pulling Elijah more firmly against him until they were hip to hip and practically nose to nose. "I’ve never known a grown man get so excited about his birthday."
"Life’s boring if there’s nothing to get excited about," Elijah protested. "When did you find time to get all this stuff anyway? You’re always so busy now that you hardly have five minutes to call your own."
"Ah, where you’re concerned, there’s always time," Sean said blandly, hiding the fact that the simple comment had struck a chord. He didn’t spend enough time with Elijah; a fact that terrified him. What if, one day, Elijah met somebody else, just because he, Sean, was busy? The biggest fear Sean had was that Elijah would find someone else.
"Good answer," Elijah said, kissing Sean soundly. "Oh, that was nice." He moved in for another kiss, this one deeper, more languid, and Sean muttered his approval, his hands moving automatically to tangle in Elijah’s hair, holding him close, and angling his head so that he could deepen the kiss.
"Let’s do that some more," Elijah sighed, pulling away. "Could I just say, officially, that you are a fantastic kisser. One of the top five, I would say."
"Very kind of you," Sean said, attempting to bow, but unable to move properly since he still had an armful of Elijah. "I aim to please."
"And you succeed." Elijah pressed forward again. "More, now," he whispered, and Sean obliged, kissing him deeply, revelling in the taste and smell and feel of him. He could feel himself hardening, and a part of his mind laughed and pointed out that he hadn’t behaved like this since he was a teenager. But with a willing, eager Elijah, what chance did he have?
"Is that my present?" Elijah asked, grinning widely as he slipped his hand between them, cupping and stroking Sean. "Do I get to unwrap it?"
"You can have that later," Sean said, angling his hips away from Elijah’s knowing grip. "Right now, let’s have breakfast." He pushed Elijah into a chair and dropped a kiss on the top of the mop of dark hair.
"I thought I was supposed to be doing that," Elijah said, leafing through his new cds and making no attempt to move. "I’ll do it."
"Of course you will," Sean answered, opening the refrigerator. "The day you work out where the cooker is will be the day I will run naked down the main street."
Without looking up, Elijah pointed. "It’s there."
"Very funny."
This time, Elijah did look up, his eyes alight. "It’s okay though, I wouldn’t want you to run naked anywhere. Don’t want anybody seeing my property."
Sean didn’t answer, but the look he gave Elijah said it all.
"Here," he said, a bit gruffly. "Eat."
"Strawberries! I’m having strawberries for breakfast!" Elijah picked up one of the berries and bit into it, his face registering a pleasure that was almost orgasmic. "When did you get these? Do you have, like, some super power that lets you split yourself in two, or something? Because you didn’t get these when we were at the market."
"Happy birthday, Elijah Jordan." Sean avoided the question and sat down. "You are an amazing creature, and I’m so glad that we’re here together."
"Don’t make a speech, you know it’ll embarrass me," Elijah warned. He picked up another of the berries and bit into it, then leaned over and kissed Sean, who opened his mouth to accept the gift, leaning back and revelling in the sweetness of the fruit as it slid down his throat. Elijah didn’t like speeches, but he knew how to make the grand romantic gesture when it was called for.
"What we doing today, then?" Elijah asked finally, after working his way through several of the strawberries, dipping them in sugar, and looking, in Sean’s opinion, about as close to original sin as it was possible to be. "I don’t have anything to do for a few days now; what about you? How long have we got?"
Again, Sean felt the creak of guilt in his bones at Elijah’s casual assumption that they wouldn’t be able to spend the entire day together. He was obviously silent a little too long, because Elijah stopped eating, and looked up.
"What? Oh, I didn’t mean that!" Without hesitating, Elijah climbed off his own seat and moved over to Sean’s lap, straddling him, sitting so close that Sean could see each individual grain of sugar on the pouting lips. "I know you have a ton of stuff to do; I don’t mean for you to feel bad about it. It’s the job, you think I don’t know?"
"It’s not that." Sean rested his hands on Elijah’s waist. "It’s … well, I wish you didn’t assume that I had something else to do, not on your birthday."
"You’re a workaholic," Elijah answered reasonably. "It just made sense. What I meant to say was, I guess you’re working today and we’ll maybe go out tonight."
"We are," Sean answered, pushing his confusion and guilt firmly to the back of his mind. "Got the restaurant all booked. Very romantic."
"Romantic? Does it involve a gypsy violinist?"
"If you want," Sean said doubtfully.
"If you ever did that to me, I would have to shoot you. Just so you know." Elijah rested his lips against Sean’s forehead. "So, what we doing?"
"That’s just it," Sean answered. "Whatever you want. You’re not working, I’m not working. We’ve finally got a chance to do something normal. Do you realise this is the first birthday you’ve had that hasn’t been practically overlooked because of Rings?"
"It’s weird, isn’t it, the way it really is over now." Elijah stilled in Sean’s lap. "Taking some getting used to."
"We’ll be all right, and it’s not like people will stop calling you Frodo any time soon." Sean smiled at Elijah’s expression. "You should change your name."
"I could shoot you for other things, you know. Doesn’t have to be the restaurant."
Sean pulled Elijah close, giving in, just for a moment, to his emotions, his need to keep this young man close and safe. Those feelings hadn’t faded since an eighteen year old boy had thrown himself across a hotel lobby. He didn’t think they would, not now.
"So, come on." Elijah pushed himself off Sean’s lap and stood up, looking around the kitchen. "We’ve got plans to make."
*
A trip into the hills that surrounded their house was the first priority. Sean had brought Elijah to this house almost two years previously, not knowing if it was the right place for them. Elijah had fallen in love with it immediately, their hideaway, the place to which they could retreat when they had had enough of the world. One day, they would have a home in New Zealand, but until that day, this place would suffice.
As they climbed out of the car, Elijah drew in a huge lungful of air and then coughed pathetically, and Sean laughed.
"Don’t say it," Elijah growled. "I’m so not giving it up. I’m an addict, you know."
"You’re only twenty three, and you cough like an old man," Sean replied, locking the door and making his way round to Elijah’s side. "I hate to think what you’ll be like when you’re fifty. I’ll be wheeling your oxygen cylinder around while you sit out on the porch."
"Think we’ll still be together then?" Elijah asked, his eyes wide, not attempting to hide his pleasure at the thought. He threaded his fingers through Sean’s. "I’d like that."
"So would I," Sean said, raising their joined hands to his lips. "No reason why we won’t be, not if it’s what we both want."
"I’ll be old. Ancient. My boyish good looks will be no more," Elijah said mournfully.
"And I’ll map out our life on your face," Sean replied. "Every single line will tell its own story."
They stood in slightly embarrassed silence for a second, before Elijah decided to lead the way down a likely looking track.
*
Half an hour later, they were irrevocably lost.
"There is a word I’ve heard Dom use more than once," Sean said, panting up an incline after Elijah. "That word is ‘nelly’. I’ve never understood it, not really." He straightened as he came level with Elijah, and shot him a piercing glare. "But suddenly I’m beginning to see its meaning."
"Well, you’re supposed to be Mr Organised," grouched Elijah. "Where’s the compass? The map? The new-found ability to retrace our steps by looking for broken branches and stuff?"
"A map’s no good if you don’t know where you are, is it? And I’ve never really got the hang of a compass." Sean tried to ignore Elijah’s delighted snigger. He looked at his watch. It was coming up to lunchtime, and he was, although he wouldn’t admit it, a little bit concerned.
"Stop worrying," Elijah said, almost as soon as the thought had crossed Sean’s mind. "I’m not actually stupid. We’re in that vague direction .." he waved his hand off to their left. "In fact, oh wise one, if you look really hard, I think there’s sunlight glinting off metal over there, through those trees. Ah." He paused.
"Ah, what?" Sean asked.
"I think we’ve come about a hundred yards from where we parked the car. Just a really roundabout hundred yards." Elijah sighed. "Time to admit it, Sean. We’re just not born woodsmen." He tilted his head. "Can you hear water? Come on!"
"No! Elijah!" Sean made a desperate grab as Elijah vanished from sight, and with a glance back at the car park, trying to fix it in his mind, he followed, much less enthusiastically.
He cheered up when he found Elijah, standing by a stream, his head tilted upwards as he tried to find the source of the water. He looked, to Sean’s eyes, like he had stepped out of a dream, all colour drained away except for his hair, now beginning to both spike and curl in the spray of the water. The eyes he turned on Sean were open, full of a calmness Sean didn’t see often enough now, and with an almost audible thud, Sean fell straight into them. He crossed the ground between them in a few short strides, and wrapped his arms around Elijah, dipping his head and kissing him hard, making Elijah stumble back a step before saving himself by wrapping his arms around Sean’s neck.
"Love you so much," Sean whispered, finally releasing him. "I thought today – I had this thought – what if you go? What would I do?"
"Where would I go?" Elijah asked, his fingers playing in the short hair at the nape of Sean’s neck. "Get it into your head, okay? Once and for all, there is nobody I would rather be with, nowhere else I would rather be."
"I just keep thinking how different our lives will be now. We don’t have Rings to keep us together, we don’t have that in common. We have to find new things now…"
"Sean, shut up." Elijah smiled to soften the words. "We will always have that in common, and yes, we have to find new things now, and that’s part of it. Part of growing up together, and being with someone. All the things we do from here on in, we do together, don’t you get it? From now on, we’re a we, not a me. That’s scary." He kissed Sean softly. "But it’s a good scary."
"Thousand year old soul," Sean whispered, and kissed him until they were both breathless.
*
Sean entered the restaurant first, effectively shielding Elijah’s view, and he didn’t move until he saw what he was looking for.
"Happy birthday," he said simply, as he stepped to one side, and his thanks came in the expression on Elijah’s face as he took in the faces of their friends. Dom and Billy, still so much one unit, even now it was over; Sean, over from England for some nefarious purpose, Viggo, grinning like a loon, his arm draped casually across Sean’s shoulders, making Sean suspect that he was happy for more than just Elijah. And…
"Ian!" Elijah very nearly squeaked the name as he threw himself at his friends. "Oh, man! I thought you were millions of miles away!"
"Never too far to come and say hello to my dearest hobbit," Ian answered gravely. "And you as well, of course. My dear, dear Elijah. So grown up now. So much the man." He kept one arm around Elijah’s shoulders as he turned to Sean, holding out his other arm, so that Sean felt honour bound to slide under it, smiling at the familiar feeling of being hugged by Ian.
"And you," Ian said. "So happy, Sean. I’ve never seen you so happy." Elijah slipped away and moved around the table to jump on his other friends, all of them laughing and talking at the same time.
"I am happy," Sean said, thinking back to their brief conversation by the stream. "He makes me happy."
"I think he has a gift for that," Ian answered. "A gift for happiness. It’s no bad thing."
"I think I need to break him of that habit though," Sean said, as a loud giggle made them both look over. Elijah had planted himself in Viggo’s lap and was talking nineteen to the dozen. "He really shouldn’t still be sitting in laps."
"Oh, why not?" Ian waved a hand dismissively, and led Sean to the table. "It suits him."
*
The meal went on for hours, and the talk never stopped. Ian gracefully excused himself first, and Sean watched as he took Elijah to one side and hugged him fiercely, speaking to him all the time. Elijah, just once, glanced over at Sean, and what Sean saw in that face made him glow with pride. As Ian exited the restaurant, Elijah came back over to the table and sat down close to Sean. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. Sean would carry that expression with him for a long time.
Billy was the next to depart, claiming tiredness, just as he had when they had been hobbits together. Dom, laughing, went with him. They both hugged and kissed Elijah, told him they loved him, told him never to change.
Then it was just the four of them, and when Sean said something about leaving, Viggo, just a little bit too quickly, offered him a place to sleep. They all pretended that hotels didn’t exist, and that Sean needed to stay with a friend.
"Who would have guessed?" Elijah whispered, his lips brushing Sean’s ear, as they watched Viggo and Sean walk down the street, shoulders brushing occasionally, seemingly accidentally. "Did you know?"
"No," Sean replied. "They look good, though."
"Hope they find something worth hanging onto." Elijah stretched and sighed. "Come on, let’s go. They’ll be kicking us out soon anyway, and I want to go home and finish my birthday with you." He put his hands in his jacket pockets and smiled at Sean, who put his own hand in, tangling his fingers with Elijah’s, and together they walked down the street, looking out for a cab.
*
Sean sat in the back seat of the cab, Elijah half asleep against his shoulder, and gazed out at the passing scenery, what he could see of it as the street lights grew more scarce. In the end, he was gazing at his reflection, thinking about nothing, and everything. Thinking about how lives can change on one decision, and how the young man resting trustingly in his arms was the only thing that really mattered anymore.
"Come on, you. We’re home." Sean nudged Elijah, who opened his eyes and sat up.
"Wasn’t asleep, thank you. Was resting."
"Whatever. Get out and open the door while I pay the cab."
"All right, all right." Elijah opened the door next to Sean and scrambled out, dragging out the action for a needless length of time.
"I meant get out of the other side," Sean laughed, climbing out after him.
"I know," answered Elijah.
By the time Sean had paid the cab, Elijah had the door open and the lights on. Sean made sure he locked the door behind him, and followed the lights into the kitchen, where Elijah was randomly opening cupboard doors.
"Need a coffee," he said in answer to Sean’s silent question. "Desperate. Want one?"
"It’ll keep you up all night." As soon as Sean said it, he regretted it, but it was too late by then, and he raised his eyebrows as Elijah laughed.
Sean sighed and turned away, heading for the den, turning on only one lamp so that the room stayed cosy and dark.
"Ow! Fuck it!" Elijah’s voice was so sudden and unexpected that Sean reacted before he even realised what he was doing, heading back into the kitchen.
Elijah was standing by the sink, cold water running over a gash on his hand, the water turning red as it drained away.
"What happened? What did you do?" Sean ran over to the sink and took hold of Elijah’s hand, trying to inspect it at the same time as keeping it under the water.
"Some fucker put that horrible sharp carving knife in with the spoons," Elijah said, more aggrieved than anything. "And before you say, yes, I know it was me."
"Let me see." Sean pulled Elijah’s hand gently and inspected the cut. It didn’t seem deep, but the blood was welling, collecting in his cupped palm. "Hold on." Sean reached for some kitchen towel and gently blotted Elijah’s palm again. The blood continued to ooze. "Look, just hold that against it, hard. Come on."
"What?" Elijah followed Sean, the kitchen towel pressed against his hand. "Where are we going? I’m fine, Sean. It’s just a cut, there’s no need to call the emergency services."
Sean didn’t answer, but led Elijah up the stairs and into the bathroom, where he kicked the toilet lid closed and sat him down.
"Sean…"
"Let me take care of it," Sean said, rummaging in the medicine cabinet before dropping to his knees. "Just let me."
The cut had almost stopped bleeding when Sean gently peeled the kitchen towel away, and he quickly cleaned it and covered it with a dressing.
"You okay?" he said, holding the damaged hand in his own. "Does it hurt?"
"It’s just a cut," Elijah repeated, resting his free hand on Sean’s shoulder. "Look at me."
Sean raised his eyes from Elijah’s hand and did as he was told.
"Don’t fuss," Elijah whispered. "You take such good care of me, you know? But I’m not glass. I won’t shatter."
"I like to take care of you," Sean replied, sitting back on his heels.
"And I like that you like it. My hand will be fine in the morning." Elijah smiled, a soft smile that made him look older than he was. "Let’s go to bed, Sean, yes? Forget about the cut."
*
As Elijah loomed over Sean, smiling at him in a way that was almost feral, his hair beginning to curl with sweat, Sean realised something; no, Elijah wasn’t made of glass, he wouldn’t shatter. But as Elijah pushed into him, hard enough to make Sean cry out, he thought that he very well might.
The End
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