Teaching Elijah 5
Pairing: Ian/Elijah
Disclaimer: Don’t know these people. No offence intended or money made.
Ian held Elijah close as the young man slept, trying to ignore the feeling in his chest, the ridiculous sensation he couldn’t name. Or rather, he could name; he knew perfectly well what he felt, but he refused to acknowledge it. But as Elijah snuggled trustingly into his side, Ian found himself studying this beautiful boy, his long lashes trembling slightly as he dreamed of who knew what, and Ian felt it again - the tightness in his chest, the ridiculous shortness of breath that either presaged a major heart attack or, infinitely worse in this case, the helpless knowledge that he was in love.
Because he couldn’t be - he couldn’t be in love. Not withh this little heartbreaker. He had promised to teach Elijah what he needed to know, and that was all. Love never entered the equation. Ian had promised himself a long time ago that he would never again have an on-set romance; they were too painful and awkward, and on a long shoot like this any break up would be horrendous.
He lowered his head and buried his face in thick, dark hair, inhaling the scent of sunshine and fresh air, sex and Elijah. A heady combination. Unintentionally, he tightened his grip, and Elijah stirred, mumbling a protest, before slowly blinking himself awake.
"Hey," he said, when he realised where he was. "How long have I been out?"
"Not long," replied Ian. "How do you sleep with your contact lenses in?"
Elijah blinked, looking so surprised by the question that Ian couldn’t help smiling.
"That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear," he admitted. "You’re such a practical old duffer, aren’t you? They’re those special ones that you can sleep in."
"Less of the old duffer," Ian said, pulling Elijah close. "If you care to notice, I wasn’t the one who fell asleep."
"Well, you’re not the one who just came his brains out," retorted Elijah. his hand drawing slow, tantalising patterns on Ian’s chest.
"Don’t put it like that, it’s crude and it’s unbecoming," said Ian with a frown.
"So what was it, then? A beautiful act of lurve?" Elijah smiled and burrowed his head against Ian’s chest, his tongue softly tracing circles on the skin, making Ian briefly close his eyes in pleasure, before reaching up and pulling gently on Elijah’s hair.
"Stop it," Elijah said, his lips still against Ian’s chest. "Let me, Ian. Just let me - explore."
Ian relaxed his grip and instead of pulling Elijah’s hair, he began to stroke it, marvelling at how soft it was when it had been released from its usual coatings of wax and gel. It was lighter than it first looked as well - a lovely dark brown, rather than the almost black Ian had assumed it to be. He ran his hand down the soft skin of Elijah’s back, letting his hand rest on the swell of his backside, making Elijah shift, pressing himself closer to Ian, one leg moving upwards to wrap around the older man’s thighs.
"Are you telling me you want more, young man?" Ian aimed for his usual urbane tone, missing it slightly, and making Elijah glance up. Ian, who wasn’t normally given to flights of fancy, decided that if ever the devil were made flesh, he would look like this boy, innocent of the world, and deadly in his beauty.
"Yes," Elijah said. "I want more. But I want you to … let me do it to you, okay? I want you to get some enjoyment out of this as well."
"What makes you think I don’t?" Ian’s hand went back to Elijah’s hair, stroking it, before moving down and resting his palm against Elijah’s cheek. "Dearest Elijah, what makes you think I don’t?" Realising that he sounded suspiciously over-affectionate, Ian stopped talking.
"I'm not saying that you don't, but I want to..." Elijah ducked his head and kissed Ian's chest, his hand straying slowly over the naked flesh, exploring as he went. Different. So different, and yet so completely right.
"Have you really never been with another man?" Ian asked. "I find it hard to believe, if I'm honest with you."
"Told you," Elijah answered, his voice slightly muffled owing to the fact he was kissing his way down Ian's chest with a determination both endearing and a little nerve wracking. "Home schooled, and then work. And even when I'm working, my mom's there." He raised his head, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. "Now my mom is great, don't ever think anything else, but she wouldn't be thrilled if I started jumping my co-stars. My male co-stars in particular." He lowered his head again, and Ian's head tilted back as his eyes closed in pleasure.
"So how did you manage anything? You said you had done - certain things - with men - ah!" Ian flinched as Elijah's sharp teeth scraped across his waist. Elijah pushed the covers out of the way and Ian caught himself on a shiver of anticipation.
"I have," Elijah agreed. "Shall I show you?"
"Your meagre repertoire?" Ian put a smile into his voice to ease any possible sting in his words, and let Elijah continue his ministrations, wrapping his hands in the dark hair until he felt Elijah pushing back against them, and remembering his own comments of earlier, reluctantly loosed him, letting his arms lie by his side.
Elijah kept up his near worship of Ian's flesh for a minute or two more, kissing and licking his way across the still-firm stomach from one hip to the other. He was nervous again, but determined. In fact he felt not unlike a particularly plucky boy scout finding his way across new and exciting tundra. He managed to quash that line of thought before it got out of hand and made him laugh; he was well aware that nervous laughter would give way to hysteria far too quickly.
He let his tongue trail a little further, flinching slightly when Ian's cock brushed across his cheek. He stilled the reaction as quickly as he could, but it hadn't escaped Ian's notice.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said, his hand rubbing across Elijah's shoulders. "Don't feel you have anything to prove."
"No," Elijah said on a sigh. "It's ... I do want to." He tentatively licked across the tip of Ian's cock, marvelling at the way it twitched and stiffened further, clear liquid seeping from the tip. Elijah raised his head and smiled, and then rested his head on Ian's stomach, smoothing his thumb across the wet tip, then transferring the taste to his mouth. "I've never had anybody come in my mouth," he said, almost dreamily. "Just hands, you know?"
"Nobody is forcing you into anything," Ian said softly, then breaking off to hold back a gasp as he felt Elijah's tongue sweep his entire, aching length.
"You did it differently to the girls," Elijah continued. "Harder. It was so much better." He pushed himself onto his knees, and taking hold of Ian's cock with one hand, he opened his mouth and tentatively took in as much as he could.
He didn't know what he had expected, but what he discovered almost immediately was that he loved this, loved the heavy flesh in his mouth, the tang of sweat and salt at the back of his throat, and the feeling that if he concentrated hard enough, he would be able to feel Ian's body trembling. Still hesitant, he ran his tongue up the long vein on the underside, imagining Ian's blood rushing just below the surface, then just underneath the head, remembering the intense pleasure that had caused him. It seemed to have a similar effect on Ian, who muttered something, shifting on the bed.
Again, echoing Ian's behaviour, Elijah shifted his free hand until they were cupping Ian's balls, squeezing and rolling them gently. He was more at home with this, using his hands to bring people pleasure. He knew he was good at it and so let his hand do what it wanted, while he concentrated on getting it right elsewhere, using the flat of his tongue against the underside, revelling in the way the coarse hair rubbed against him.
"Elijah...." Ian fought to keep his hips still, desperate to thrust himself into Elijah's hot, willing mouth, but only too aware that he needed to take things slowly, get used to one thing at a time. But ... Ian took a deep breath and started to recite one of Richard III's monologues to himself. It would be embarrassing at his age, to come too quickly, but oh, it was tempting just to give in. He glanced down and his whole body quivered at the sight of Elijah, eyes closed, a faint line between his eyebrows as he concentrated on his task, naked as the day he was born, pert and inviting backside within reach...
All that perfect flesh, Ian thought, letting his eyes close again. And it's mine, at least for now. That thought was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he managed to control himself.
Elijah's jaw was starting to ache when he felt a change begin in the hot flesh in his mouth. The taste changed slightly, and the flesh seemed to stiffen even further. He was still playing with Ian's balls and he felt them tighten in his hand, so he quickly released Ian's cock and slid back up the man's body, throwing one leg across his thighs and half lying on top of him. Grasping Ian's cock in his hand, he pumped hard, feeling the trembling in the body below him.
"Elijah... oh god, Elijah!" Ian's orgasm was intense, his hands clenching into fists and his body twisting into a rictus of complete pleasure. For a long minute there was nothing else in the world but the pleasure this young man had caused him, and then slowly he became aware again; seeing things with a clarity that almost shocked him; the dust motes dancing in the late afternoon sunlight, the spider resolutely climbing up the half closed shutter. And Elijah. Elijah over him and on him, eyes bright with something that looked suspiciously like smugness. As he watched, Elijah smiled wickedly, and slowly brought his hand up to his mouth, and, fastidious as any cat, licked it clean.
"And how was it for you?" Elijah asked, before breaking into laughter which, while still painfully young sounding to Ian’s ears, was also wonderful to hear. He watched as Elijah pulled away, sitting cross legged on the bed, looking all of 12, and he couldn’t stop himself reaching out and resting a hand on the naked leg so close and inviting.
"You’re learning fast." He moved his fingers, feeling Elijah’s muscles tense and then relax until he was pressing into the touch like the cat he sometimes brought to mind.
"I’m a natural talent," Elijah replied, resting his hand over Ian’s. "I’ll show you my reviews one day."
"You mean you get reviews for that?"
Elijah burst into startled, slightly horrified laughter, and then put his hand over his mouth in a movement so childishly appealing that Ian opened his arms, begging silently. Elijah quietened and looked out of eyes far too old for his face before arranging himself alongside Ian, head resting on the older man’s shoulder, his hands once again tracing random patterns on skin.
"Why do you do that?" Ian asked after a moment’s silence. "Why do you always have to be moving?" He caught Elijah’s hand in his own and softly kissed the palm, making Elijah catch his breath on an unspoken thought. "Well?"
"No reason," Elijah pulled his hand away and placed it back on Ian’s chest, deliberately still. "It’s just how I am."
"Nervous?"
"No!" He tried for, and missed, a laugh. "What do I have to be nervous about? A multi million dollar movie riding on my scrawny little shoulders?"
"They’re very capable shoulders." Ian pulled Elijah close. "Perhaps I mean that you live on your nerves, rather than that you are nervous." He caught Elijah’s hand again. "We have a lot to learn, you and I, and a long way to travel."
"That was nice," Elijah said after another short silence. "Did I do it right? I tried to remember everything you’d done…"
"It was more than right," Ian assured him. "There is no right or wrong, Elijah. Sex with a man isn’t some mysterious arcane ritual. When you have sex with a woman, you do what she likes, yes? Or at least I hope so. It’s the same with a man, and we all like different things."
"Mmm," Elijah snuggled against Ian, and closed his eyes. "Nap time now, I think. More lessons later?"
Ian laughed, a huge belly laugh which startled them both, and then pushed Elijah away.
"You," he said, "are completely incorrigible. Sex and sleep – is that all you think of? Don’t answer that, it was a completely rhetorical question." He stood up and held out a hand. "Come with me. We both need a shower, then you will change this bed -," he held up a hand as Elijah opened his mouth to protest – "consider it as another lesson. And then we will go out to dinner." He walked over to the window and opened the shutter a little more, gently chivvying the spider out of harm’s way. The sun was going down in a blaze of orange and red, so close you could almost touch it.
"You feel like you can almost touch it," Elijah said from the bed, his words echoing Ian’s thoughts. "It’s so perfect."
"And different," Ian said, not turning around. "Different every time." He heard the rustle of cotton as Elijah slithered off the bed, and then the pad of footsteps as he approached the window. He stood close to Ian, but not touching.
"Perfection isn’t static," Elijah said softly. "It’s ever changing." He half smiled. "My mom taught me that."
"And she was right. A wise woman, your mother."
"I don’t just want to learn about sex," Elijah said suddenly. "I want you to teach me – stillness. Could you do that?"
Ian pushed away from the window and moved to stand behind Elijah, wrapping his arms around the slim form. Together they stood and watched the sun set.