Teaching Elijah - Part 11
Pairing: Ian/Elijah
Disclaimer: Don’t know these people. No offence intended or money made.
"It was definitely a good thing, you know," Elijah muttered, not glancing up from his script notes. "It’s nice to be able to just sit here, and if I want to touch you, I can touch you, and not have to think of an excuse for it."
"You could also go absolutely mad and look at me sometimes." Ian’s voice was so full of amusement that Elijah’s first flush of embarrassment vanished immediately, and he obediently looked up, putting the script to the side.
"I’m sorry," he said, giving his best wide-eyed innocent look. "Was I ignoring you? Using you and tossing you aside?"
"You’re a very funny man, Elijah. I expect certain countries would worship you for that sense of humour."
"The Japanese love me anyway. They think I look like an anime cartoon."
"I expect you can get pills for that," Ian said placidly. "What I actually disturbed you for was to tell you that you’re late."
"Late for what?"
"For falling over, I expect." Ian tapped his wrist where a watch would normally be and enunciated very clearly, "You. Are. Late."
"I can’t be. You’re scheduled to start earlier than me, and you’re still here."
"My schedule was changed. I have another hour or so."
Elijah stood up in a flurry of script and fake fur. He leaned over the table until his nose was almost pressed against Ian’s face. "You," he said clearly. "are a bastard." Then he grinned and half ran, half scurried away, leaving Ian staring after him.
"Lucky man." Sean’s voice made him jump, but he recovered himself and looked up.
"Yes," he agreed. "Very lucky."
"I’m late as well." Sean didn’t say anything else; instead he trotted off in Elijah’s wake, and it struck Ian just how often he had seen Sean in that exact position; behind Elijah, taking the place of his shadow. There was something both sad and touching about it.
Standing up, ready to make his own, slightly more dignified way to the set, he caught the tail end of a sneer from one of the crew, and he paused for a moment before attempting to dismiss it from his mind. In the three weeks since Elijah and he had let it be known they were a couple, only a few people had let it be seen that they were against it, or in any way disapproving. It still caused Ian a twinge of regret, but he had learned a long time ago that some people would never be able to accept it.
*
Sean sat down, sighing in relief, and then looked up and smiled as Elijah appeared and threw himself on the ground at his feet, pushing Sean's legs apart so that he could rest between them.
"Hi," he said once he had finished wriggling around.
"Definitely," Sean said for no good reason, his fingers itching, as always, to reach out and touch this marvellous bundle of energy. Hating himself for finding an excuse, he began to fiddle with the hobbit hair, pretending to untangle some of the curls. "You happy?" He wrinkled his nose, and mentally slapped himself. "You look happy."
"I am." Elijah pulled his knees up and rested his forehead against them. "I'm cold, but I'm happy."
"Okay." Sean smiled and pushed Elijah away, then slid off the chair so that he was sitting on the ground. Elijah wriggled until he was leaning back against Sean, who wrapped them both in his elven cloak. Sweet torment for him, but he had never been able to resist this.
"That's better. You're nice and warm." Elijah paused. "Don't suppose there's any way I could persuade you to warm my feet up?"
"I draw the line, Wood, I really do," Sean said, laughing slightly and beginning to relax.
They sat in silence for a while, before Elijah finally cleared his throat. Sean could feel the body against his tense up.
"Out of all of this, you're the only one who isn't happy. I never meant to make you unhappy, Sean."
Sean closed his eyes against a sudden sting of tears, and buried his face in dark, silky curls.
"I'm not unhappy, silly hobbit. How could I be unhappy when I look at your face and see your expression?" He paused. "You love him?"
"I do, Sean, I really, really do." Elijah twisted his head around, his hair making Sean's nose tickle. "Do you think I'm stupid? Looking for a father figure?"
"I think you're looking for the same thing as the rest of us. I think you're looking for security. And Elijah, you have a huge amount of love to give, don't forget that. Whoever you choose is so, so lucky." He kissed Elijah's temple. "Don't ever think you could make me unhappy."
"It's not that I don't love you ..." Elijah began, and Sean laughed past the knot in his throat.
"I know that." He tightened his grip around Elijah, arms and legs pressing him close. "I know."
"Do you think we'll be friends when all this is over?" Elijah asked. "Still see each other, and all that?"
"Yeah, sure. Can you imagine never seeing Dom and Billy again? And anyway, we have about a thousand premieres to attend, remember? This won't be over until you're well into middle age."
"I'll be about 22," Elijah laughed, smacking Sean's knee. "God, that sounds such a long time away. A whole lifetime away."
"There you are, then. Friends for life."
*
"Did you talk to him?" Ian asked that evening, bustling around the kitchen. "What did he have to say?"
"He was all right." Elijah shrugged, wandering in from the lounge. "Makes me feel - dunno. He's my friend, and I know that he doesn't feel right about this."
Ian turned around and opened his arms. With a smile, Elijah made his way over and burrowed into them, purring his approval against Ian’s neck.
"This is so nice," he murmured. "Just being here with you like this, and listening to all your old dude music and your old dude stories …"
"If you refer to me as an ‘old dude’ once more, Elijah Wood, I shall have no alternative but to beat you soundly with my spatula," Ian declared fiercely, the tightness of his embrace belying the tone of his voice.
"Old dude," Elijah whispered, and then ran from the kitchen as Ian looked very much as if he was going to follow through on his threat. From the safety of the doorway, Elijah looked back and grinned, and Ian couldn’t help smiling back. This young man had undoubtedly given him a new lease of life, and for that he could only be grateful.
Moving to the table, Ian pulled out a chair and sat down, beckoning to Elijah, who still stood in the doorway, arms folded, a look of deep suspicion on his face.
"Come here, you ingrate," Ian said. He patted his knee.
"I am not sitting on your knee," Elijah said, taking a step into the kitchen, then another. "It’ll bring back traumatic memories of sitting on Santa’s knee at Christmas and trying to work out if that was a present in his pocket or whether he was just pleased to see me."
"Elijah!"
"It’s all right, I’m kidding!" Elijah took another step towards Ian. "Why am I an ingrate?"
"I am sitting here, offering myself to you, and you are what can only be described as mincing about. Come here."
Elijah did as he was told, straddling Ian and after a good deal of teasing, sitting on his lap, where he proceeded to wriggle.
"Oh," he said, his eyes wide with false surprise. "You are pleased to see me, aren’t you?" He kissed Ian. "Or is that your spatula?"
"Horrible youth." Ian slid his hands under Elijah’s shirt, letting his nails gently tease at the bare flesh, making Elijah smile and kiss him again.
"Do you think I’m ready for my final lesson, yet?" He pulled back, still smiling, but then growing serious as he saw Ian’s expression. "What’s wrong? What have I said?"
"Is it still about lessons to you?" Slowly Ian began to unfasten the buttons on Elijah’s shirt, his hands cupping and stroking the skin as it was revealed. "I thought we were perhaps past that and into something more - solid."
"Oh, we are!" Elijah exclaimed, hugging Ian close. "I didn’t mean anything, you know …"
"Ha." Ian’s voice was muffled but triumphant, and Elijah sat back and glared at the smug face so close to his own.
"You … bastard!" he said, his face beginning to twitch. "I thought you were all, you know, ‘oh, Elijah,’ and you’re not at all."
"One thing I’ve always loved is teasing beautiful men," Ian said. "Now get off me; you weigh a ton. Small, but solid."
"Less of the small." Elijah climbed off Ian, re-fastening his shirt as he did so, until Ian put out a hand to stop him.
"Would you mind awfully not fastening that up?" He didn’t explain, and Elijah didn’t ask, merely let his shirt hang open, his eyes smiling.
*
"We have been invited to our first party." Ian kept his back to Elijah, apparently studying the view from the window. "We, as in you and I."
"S'nice," answered Elijah. "Who?"
"Oh, nothing special, just one of the crew parties, but I think it's quite significant, don't you?" He heard Elijah get up and wasn't surprised when arms snaked around his waist.
"It wasn't so bad, was it? You still seem a bit unsure."
"No, not at all," Ian hastened to assure him, twisting around so that he could pull Elijah against him. "I think perhaps I'm still slightly in shock. I've never been a catalyst before."
"First time for everything." Elijah looked up at Ian. "That was me being really subtle. Did it work?"
"You really think you're ready? We don't have to do everything, you know..." Ian trailed off, and pulled Elijah close. "I just ... it won't be what you expect. It will hurt, no matter how much we try to make it comfortable for you."
"You hurting me on purpose? No, that's what I thought." Elijah sighed. "I want to know everything, Ian. I want to feel it all..." He let his hand deliberately slip until his fingers were brushing against Ian's crotch. "I look like a kid, Ian, but you must know by now that I'm not. I don't think I ever have been."
"And there's something very sad about that," Ian said, his fingers carding through Elijah's hair. "Maybe that's why you came to an old duffer like me."
"I came to an old duffer like you because you're everything I want to be." Elijah sighed, his fingers still stroking Ian's crotch. "I know that I'm a bit weird, a bit lonely, maybe, but I'm not stupid, I know what I want." He looked up. "Now stop with the angst and give me your tongue, you fool."
"I need it, you 18th century temptress," Ian protested, smiling. "Need to do this..." And he lowered his head and kissed Elijah until they were both dizzy.
*
Elijah draped himself more comfortably astride Ian's lap, laughing softly as his shirt was slowly pushed off his shoulders. As Ian leaned forward and kissed the newly naked flesh, Elijah tilted his head so that he could bury his face in thick grey hair, his eyes closing in sheer contentment. He leaned back, wrapping his arms around Ian's neck, making sure that Ian continued kissing him, albeit on his chest now, his hips moving slowly, comfortably.
"Do you want to know what you remind me of?" Elijah asked suddenly, rather breaking Ian's concentration.
"I don't know, do I?" Ian sat back on the sofa, pulling Elijah with him. "Is it ... let me think ... a hamster, or some other small rodent?"
"Nope, but now you mention it.." Elijah flinched when Ian pinched the flesh on his arm. "You're like a rock."
"What, cold and a bit gravelly?"
"No. Solid and comforting." Elijah kissed him. "So fucking comforting."
Ian sighed, and held Elijah close, before pushing him away, keeping him at arm's length.
"I'm not your father, Elijah. Or even your grandfather. You do know that, don't you?"
"I should hope the fuck not," Elijah laughed. "'cos that would be seriously illegal." His face grew serious. "I know what you mean, but it's not that. I don't want you to be my father, I want you to be what you are. Come on, drop it, please. This is where I want to be, and I know you feel the same."
"You're right. I'm ...." Ian's words were cut off as Elijah's mouth descended on his, and his thoughts were derailed a matter of seconds after that. Elijah, it seemed, had decided that they had done enough talking.
"What do you want me to do?" Elijah whispered, trailing his tongue along Ian’s jawline. "Want my hand? My mouth? Want me to lay you on this couch and bring you to the edge?"
"That’s one lesson you certainly learned well," groaned Ian, his breath speeding up as he listened to Elijah’s soft voice. "The voice as weapon."
"Tell me." This time Elijah dipped his tongue firmly into Ian’s ear, tracing the delicate patterns with deliberate slowness, making Ian writhe underneath him. Taking the lobe between his teeth, Elijah nipped hard, laughing when Ian pulled away and glared. "Tell me."
Sliding his hands around Elijah’s back, Ian pulled him close, feeling the glorious hardness against his belly, and unable to prevent himself, he cupped it, squeezing hard enough to make Elijah whimper and push into the grip. His other hand moved to the waistband of Elijah’s jeans, long fingers reaching as far as possible, dipping and stroking.
"Oh, god…" Elijah trailed off and actually quivered as Ian’s fingers probed gently, unable to reach their goal, but still causing ripples of excitement to course through Elijah.
The kisses grew harder and more desperate as Elijah pressed Ian into the couch, moaning out a plea with each breath. He could feel Ian’s fingers, teasing and tormenting him, burning against his skin, and he just knew that if he was stopped this time he would spontaneously combust, there was no other option.
Reaching down, he pushed Ian’s hand aside, and frantically started to unfasten his jeans, needing to feel Ian’s hand on him as quickly as possible. Ian tore himself away from Elijah’s mouth and put his hand on the thin, heaving chest.
"Slow down, Elijah," Ian gasped, pulling away from the kiss, but Elijah was almost beyond any hope of that. He had enough motor control to shake his head before he dived in for another kiss, revelling in the comfortingly familiar taste of Ian’s mouth.
Ian was completely swamped in sensation - Elijah’s strong thighs straddling his own, his ridiculously small hands scrabbling for purchase, his breath hot against Ian’s lips. He couldn’t stop a groan escaping and Elijah paused, gazing down at Ian, flushed and triumphant, a man very much on a mission.
"You want it!" he said. "You can’t pretend, not now. Come on, Ian, please."
"I’m not going to continue this on the sofa," Ian managed to say. "It’s undignified, and at my age it’s downright uncomfortable. Unhand me for a second."
Reluctantly, Elijah climbed off his very nice perch and waited while Ian, deliberately slowly as far as Elijah could tell, stood up and began to gather up the cups and glasses they had used earlier.
"What are you doing?" Elijah demanded wincing slightly as his voice squeaked a bit. "I thought we were going to bed. Why are we doing the washing up?"
"Patience, Elijah." Ian looked smugly at Elijah, trying to ignore the fact of his own hardness. "I think you need a moment or two to calm down."
Elijah muttered something rude, before picking up the half empty bottle of wine and following Ian into the kitchen. Slamming it down with rather more force than necessary, he scowled up at Ian, and then felt a smile begin to slide across his face as he watched.
"You dirty old man," he said finally, laughing out loud as Ian turned from the refrigerator and triumphantly held up the butter. "If I’m right, it’s not toast you plan to butter with that."
"It’s been a long time since I’ve had to improvise with such things," Ian looked at the butter and laughed, putting it back in the fridge. "I merely wanted to see how you would react." Putting his arm around Elijah’s shoulders, he made his way towards the bedroom. "And anyway, butter isn’t as good as people believe; if in doubt, use cooking oil. Extra virgin if you’re feeling ironic."
Elijah didn’t answer, and Ian hugged him a little closer. "Nothing to be worried about," he said.
"Oh I know," Elijah said, a little too quickly. "I just keep thinking about … well, about the mechanics of it all. Where exactly do I put my legs, that kind of thing, you know?"
"Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?" Ian asked, still obviously doubtful.
"Can I ask you something?" Elijah answered the question with a question of his own, and nodded at Ian’s raised eyebrows. "Do you want this?" He raised his head so that their lips brushed. "Do you want me lying on your bed, you inside me, making me scream and beg? Do you want to push into me, learn every last bit of me?"
Ian licked his lips, and nodded slightly.
"That’s what I thought. Stop using me, all right? Stop pretending that it’s because I’m young and inexperienced that you don’t want to do this. You’re just as nervous as I am because you don’t know how I’ll react. You’ve wanted this since that first time. And Ian? I’m glad. I’m so fucking glad. Please stop making some big drama out of it, though. If it hurts, I’ll get you to stop, because I know that you will." He paused. "Now let’s go and work out what to do with my legs"
Ian laughed out loud in relief and amazement that, once again, Elijah could read him so well, and led the way into the hallway, where he stopped to drop a kiss on Elijah’s forehead. "Your legs will find out where they want to go soon enough. And I’ve heard about this amazing flexibility of yours, so we can put that to the test. Come along." He looked down then, eyes soft and full of something Elijah could name, but didn’t. "Amazing man."
*
However, by the time they reached the bedroom, some of Elijah’s confidence, and indeed lust, had abated, and as Ian led him towards the bed, he faltered slightly.
"If you don’t want it, Elijah, we won’t do it," Ian said immediately.
"But I want to, and so do you," Elijah protested. "I think maybe I just need to stop thinking about it quite so much."
"Come along, let’s just get into bed; it’s late anyway." He hugged Elijah to him. "The rules have never changed, and they never will, you know that."
"Could I just make it clear that I’m not nervous … oh, fuck it, yes I am. But I do want it, I really do." He looked at Ian, eyes huge in the dim light of the room. "I suppose it’s no good asking you to just get it over with?"
"No good at all," Ian agreed. "Come along, let’s just see where the evening takes us, yes?"
*
"You know what I think?" Elijah said as he lay in Ian’s arms. "I think that we’ve both built it up too much. If we had done if first, before anything else…"
"You would have run screaming for the hills. Well, hobbling for the hills actually." Ian laughed.
Elijah laughed as well, although very quietly, his hand idly covering Ian’s before he linked their fingers together. "It’s all about being relaxed, yeah?"
"All sex is about being relaxed," Ian agreed, wondering just what idea had entered Elijah’s mind now. A more determined person would be hard to find.
Very slowly, Elijah lifted their joined hands and carried them to his lips where, eyes firmly locked, he proceeded to suck Ian’s forefinger into his mouth, his tongue giving it much the same treatment as it gave Ian’s cock, teasing and tormenting it. And all the time, Elijah stared at him. When he had finished with that finger, Elijah simply moved onto the next, and then the next, until he had given the whole hand the same treatment, by which time Ian’s heart was pounding so fast he imagined that the neighbours would be complaining at any minute. He almost jumped out of his skin when Elijah, eyes still not moved, kept hold of his now-wet hand, and wrapped it around his cock, moving his hips softly. The only sign that he was doing anything was the fact that his breathing was a little harsher.
"Elijah…"
"I want this," he said, in such a tone that Ian knew he wouldn’t be gainsaid, not this time. "Please, I want you inside me, want to know how it feels." He paused. "I don’t expect it to be hearts and flowers, I don’t even expect to come: you think I haven’t talked to Dom about this? He told me what to expect, and I’m ready. I don’t want to wait anymore."
"Oh, Elijah, how am I supposed to resist this?" Ian rolled over until he was on top of the smaller man. "How am I supposed to refuse you anything you want?"
"You’re not supposed to, that’s the point," Elijah said, and there was relief and nervousness mixed in his laugh. "I’m irresistible, didn’t you know? You should read my interviews more often. Everybody says it about me."
"Toad." Ian kissed him then, and Elijah grunted at the heat of it, the depth of it; the pure passion of it.
"You’ve been holding back on me, old man," he panted as he was finally released. He reached up and put his hand against Ian’s chest. "You’ve never kissed me like that before."
"Well perhaps I should make up for that," Ian said thoughtfully. "I’ve been neglecting you."
Tipping himself to one side, Ian carried on kissing Elijah, and at the same time he began to let his hand stroke down the soft skin, teasing and tormenting, picking out every one of the sensitive spots he had discovered over the past weeks and months. Finally, when Elijah was moaning and squirming, Ian stopped kissing him and let his tongue and lips cover the same ground, nipping and licking, stopping to pay attention to a particularly delicate place, revelling in the sounds Elijah made – the gasps and the groans, the half spoken words.
He made it his mission not to stop until he had covered every square inch of Elijah’s flesh, pushing the quivering legs apart and gently kissing inner thighs, calves, everywhere.
"Oh, god, please…" Elijah was almost weeping in his need – Ian had never done this to him before – never so completely loved him – and he was close to losing all control. Every single nerve end was on fire; it was as if every single patch of skin had been flayed off, leaving him completely open to the air. He was, and there was no doubt in his mind, about to explode.
When he felt Ian’s hands touch his waist, he cried out in surprise and need – even so slight a touch was almost too much for him.
"Turn over," Ian whispered. "Elijah, turn over."
When he had done as he was told, Ian lay next to him, stroking his hair, and then down his spine, and lower still, all the time talking to him.
"You’re so perfect, did you know that?" Of course you did, how could you not? But look at you, lying here, glorious in your nakedness, unashamed and so beautiful. I’m going to do what you want, Elijah; what I want. You’re going to feel me inside you, just as you want. There won’t be a single part of you that I don’t know."
Elijah, his head resting on his folded arms, scrunched his eyes closed and concentrated on Ian’s voice. Ian’s perfect, dark velvet voice. He couldn’t help the squeak he made when he felt Ian’s fingers stroke over his ass, time and again, always closer… He felt Ian shift his position and tensed for he didn’t know what, but nothing happened, just Ian’s tongue on his back, licking, soothing, working lower…
In the shelter of his arms, Elijah’s eyes opened wide and he felt his entire body quiver as he registered what was happening. He could feel Ian’s tongue now, right in the small of his back, now his teeth scraping over one ass cheek…
"Oh, fuck me!"
"Are you all right, Elijah?" Ian’s voice was full of concern as he scooted back up the bed. "Was that going a little bit too far?"
Elijah’s lungs were working like a set of bellows as he tried to get oxygen back to his brain. He managed to shake his head, but it took him another minute to actually form any words. "No, it’s ... god! Just, you know. God."
Ian kissed Elijah’s shoulder, chuckling, then slid back down the bed, sliding a finger gently between Elijah’s ass cheeks, moving slowly. He kept the other hand in the small of Elijah’s back, comforting him, and then he moved his finger and replaced it with his tongue, sliding in and out, wetting the entire area, feeling the almost constant tremors running through Elijah’s body.
When he was sure Elijah was used to feeling that kind of invasion, Ian quickly reached over the edge of the bed, questing fingers quickly locating the lube he had placed there. With the skill only experience can bring, he flipped the tube open and emptied some on his hand, then dropped the tube back onto the floor without even looking.
Kissing Elijah’s back, he whispered a warning before drizzling the warmed oil onto Elijah’s ass, working his fingers through it.
Elijah was in danger of short circuiting. Ian’s hands, touching him everywhere, Ian’s voice filling his head and now, oh so gently, he could feel Ian’s finger sliding into him, and part of him wanted to push back against those fingers, but Ian’s hand on his back made it impossible for him to move.
"Oh, god…" he whispered, as he felt himself being stretched and opened further. "Oh, Christ on a bike, Ian…"
"You want me to stop?" Ian’s voice was soft and calm. "Am I hurting you?"
"No … I didn’t know how it would feel, didn’t know what to expect… oh!"
"Sorry … more lubrication was needed, and it may have been a bit cold."
"Can I turn over? Can I see you?" Elijah wriggled, and then thought better of it.
"No, not the first time. It would make it very uncomfortable for you, no matter how flexible you may be." Ian paused, and there was a trace of laughter in his voice when he continued: "And you may be grateful that you have a pillow to bite, at least if I do my job properly."
"Oh, I think you’re doing just fine and dandy so far," Elijah said, his head rocking forward as his body accepted further intrusion. Without realising what he was doing he spread his legs further apart, silently asking for more, and Ian bent his head, his tongue soothing away any possible soreness as his fingers kept up their steady pace.
Oddly, although the strangeness and, yes, the discomfort, kept Elijah on a knife edge, the gentle pace and the comforting presence of Ian also served to lull him into a kind of half-trance, and he found himself hyper aware of the slightly damp sheet underneath him, of his cock, hard and trapped, and of Ian’s hand in the small of his back, stroking, soothing him.
"More," he whispered. "I want more." He struggled slightly, trying to push himself onto his hands and knees, but stopped when a sudden flame of discomfort ran through him.
"No, my Elijah, don’t try that, not yet. I’ve done this many time, just trust me, please." Ian sounded so distressed at having caused him pain, that Elijah dropped back onto the bed, contenting himself with just moving his hips, beginning to press back against Ian’s fingers.
"More," he said again. "Please, Ian, please. I’m begging you here."
"I’ve told you before, never beg unless you want to."
"I want to," Elijah said. "I want to beg, and scream, and, I don’t know. Please, Ian, don’t do this. I want to feel you in me."
Listening to Elijah’s pleading, Ian closed his eyes and pressed his hand down on his erection, trying to bring himself some relief. He had to make this right for Elijah; he hadn’t lied when he said there would be no bells and choirs of angels, but he wanted this to be right. If he wasn’t careful, though, he would go off like a rocket the minute he entered that oh so tight little bit of heaven.
Elijah made a strange sound of protest when he realised Ian was putting on a condom, but Ian shook his head.
"First of all, it’s sensible, and secondly, for your first time it will make everything run more smoothly."
"But I want to feel you. I hate those fucking things."
"Trust me," was all Ian said.
Elijah lay still, whimpering as Ian’s fingers slid out, leaving him feeling strangely empty and vulnerable. In the next instance his eyes shot open before squeezing tightly closed again. All of Ian’s careful ministrations hadn’t prepared him for this!
He knew Ian’s cock, knew it intimately and from most angles, but now it felt absolutely huge against him and he instinctively pulled away.
"Just try and relax," Ian said softly. "Remember the rules." He stroked Elijah’s trembling thighs. "Just relax and let it happen."
Breathing in great gasps of air, Elijah did his best, but he could feel the sweat breaking out on his body as Ian pushed into him. Surreptitiously, he slid his hands under the pillow where he clenched them into tight fists, but he should have known, and part of him wasn’t surprised when Ian slipped one of his own hands under the pillow as well, wrapping gently around his wrist, long fingers stroking and soothing.
After the first, burning pain of strong muscles being breached, it didn’t feel quite so bad – it went from pain to discomfort. Elijah couldn’t help but wonder why anybody would want to do this for fun.
When Ian shifted his hips slightly, Elijah made a kind of ‘uungh,’ sound and buried his face in the pillow, determined to find out about this. In fact, the more Ian moved, the easier it became, and the more Elijah’s body reacted. His erection, which had wilted to almost nothing, began to reappear, and the rhythmical thrust of Ian’s body against his began to feel almost pleasurable.
"That’s it," Ian said, his voice slightly laboured. "Just relax and let me do the work." His strokes were long and even, trying to get Elijah used to the feeling, but as Ian made the mistake of glancing down and watching himself vanish into Elijah’s body, he stuttered slightly, making Elijah whimper. "I’m sorry," he gasped. "Amateur mistake."
Elijah did as he was told, lying still whilst Ian thrust into him, and once again he felt the pleasure begin to build – the friction was making him rock hard, and as Ian shifted slightly, pressing him down further into the bed, the next whimper came out as a moan, and his hands unclenched.
"Oh…." was the next thing he said, his head coming up off the pillow. "Oh, I like that… do that more."
Ian’s eyes closed, more in relief than anything else. He had been so worried about this, and especially when it became obvious that Elijah certainly wasn’t enjoying himself at all, but now, as he relaxed more, things were definitely more promising. He had no idea what he had just done, but he attempted to do it again.
"More like that," Elijah gasped. "I like you against me, feeling you in me…."
Finally understanding what Elijah meant, Ian practically spread himself over the younger man, touching as much of his body as he could with his own. He must have got it right because Elijah groaned his pleasure, beginning to make that wonderfully breathy grunt every time he was forced further into the bed as Ian pushed himself deeper.
Ian was doing his best to hold himself back, trying to not thrust as hard as he would like, but even so, he knew that he couldn’t last much longer, not with Elijah pliant – at last – beneath him, and as the little gasping moans grew louder, he could feel his orgasm starting somewhere in his toes and working its way up, hollowing his back as he came, his teeth gritted against crying out.
He sagged against Elijah’s back, uncaring, his breathing heavy, sweat standing out on his skin. Elijah, with a very neat wiggle, squirmed out from under him and pulled him close, covering his face with tiny butterfly kisses.
"I’m sorry, Lij," Ian finally said. "I wanted to make it right for you."
"You did, old man, you did," Elijah said, his voice full of a strange wonder. "You did. I think I might understand now, but we’ll have to do it a few more times, just to be sure." He shifted as if planning to wrap his leg around Ian, but then winced and changed his mind, making Ian laugh, and breaking whatever awkwardness was building. He reached out and pulled Elijah to him, causing another wince, and laughed again when he felt the impatient hardness of Elijah’s cock, pressing against his hip.
"Don’t laugh," Elijah mock-scowled. "Just because you got off, there are some of us who have yet to achieve the apex of lurve." He paused. "Do I mean apex, or zenith? Whatever." He shifted his hips, crossing his eyes as he did so. "Do something about it." He paused. "Please?"
"You are going to hell, Elijah Wood, and you are taking me along for the ride." Ian reached between them and within a very short space of time was holding a trembling, highly relieved Elijah.
*
A shower made both of them feel more respectable, and it wasn’t too long before Elijah was once more curled up in Ian’s arms, trying hard not to put too much weight on his ass.
"So?" Ian asked gently. "Was it truly awful?"
"No, not at all," Elijah answered immediately. "It was weird to start with, and not the most comfortable thing I’ve ever done, but y’know, I could get to like it. By the end there, I was definitely into it." He paused. "But I’d like to do it to you. And I’d like you to do it to me when I’m on my back, and I can see your face. And I’d like you to do it without that fucking condom."
"So you’re not ruling it out for the future, then?" Ian chuckled and kissed Elijah. "I’m glad. I didn’t want to hurt you."
"You couldn’t," Elijah said with finality. "I know that. You’ll never hurt me." He looked up at Ian, looking frighteningly young.
"No," promised Ian. "I never will." He kissed Elijah again. "Now, get some sleep; you’ve got a tough day ahead of you tomorrow."
"Just hope I don’t have to sit down," Elijah mumbled sleepily, and Ian smiled at the tone in his voice. "You called me Lij."
As Elijah’s breathing grew deeper and steadier, Ian continued to stare into the dark.
No, he thought. I never will.
He laced his fingers into Elijah’s hair, pulling gently, making Elijah squirm and mutter a protest, not waking up enough to actually say anything, and Ian stilled his movement, but didn’t let go of the soft dark hair.
"You’re not perfect, not by a long chalk," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But then, nobody is. I do wonder, my sweet Elijah, how many mornings I’ll wake up with you, how many nights I’ll watch you sleep.."
He froze as Elijah turned over, tucking his head firmly under Ian’s chin, sliding an arm around his waist, and twitching his leg as if meaning to move that, before freezing and muttering something else.
"Sleep," Ian whispered. "You’ve got an early call in the morning."
"Well, stop fucking muttering in my ear," Elijah grouched. "I love you, okay? Not leaving just because there’s a tick against all my lessons." It’s so late that it’s almost tomorrow, and I have to hobbit like crazy. And all I want to do is lie here with my old duffer and … well, duff."
"There’s no such word."
"There is now." He paused and Ian felt the ghost of a kiss against his throat. "You called me Lij."
Silence fell, broken only by the sound of breathing, and the soft susurration of fingers moving slowly through hair.
The End