ELIJAH'S POV
I need caffeine. Now, if not sooner. Yeah, it's important to meet our new Aragorn, but for fuck's sake why did Pete call the meeting at seven in the morning? And why did I agree to do all those shooters with Orli and Dom? I'm exhausted and slightly hung-over, not exactly the state the Ringbearer should be in when he meets Isildur's Heir. Oh, well. Nothing I can do about it now.
Here we are. Pete's office. Most of the cast is already here, but at least I'm not the last one to arrive. I have a feeling that honor will go to Dom. "Elijah, over here," Pete beckons. "This is Viggo Mortensen. Viggo, this is Elijah Wood."
Viggo turns to look at me and . . . oh fuck. He's hot. No way around it. Intense eyes offset by an easy smile, and I'm fucking spellbound. I realize that Pete's waiting for me to say something, so I conjure up acting lesson #27 -- how not to appear like a horny-as-hell teenager upon meeting your dead sexy co-star.
"Hey, it's nice to meet you." Okay, good start. "I know it must be kind of weird coming in after we've started, but I'll do my best to catch you up."
He smiles again and I bite my lip in an effort to stop my blood from hightailing it to my cock. "Thanks, I appreciate that. This is all somewhat overwhelming -- I feel as if everyone's eyes are on me." Wow, now *there's* a sexy voice. People make a big deal about Bean's voice, but Viggo's voice is in a league of its own.
"You'll be fine. After a few days it'll be like you've been here since the beginning."
"Okay, well Viggo should probably meet the rest of the hobbits now," Pete interrupts. I resist the urge to strangle our director for ending my conversation with Viggo.
"I'll see you later, Elijah," Viggo says.
"Yeah, see you later." God, that's the best I can come up with? "I'm always around if you need anything." Now I sound like a stalker, that's even better.
"Thanks." He smiles at me once more before going over to meet Billy, and I grit my teeth to keep myself from banging my head against the wall. This is terrific. I'm head-over-heels for a guy twice my age who's going to be working with me for a year. Oh cruel fate, why do you mock me?
*****
VIGGO'S POV
Sure, it sounded innocent enough. "So Elijah, maybe you should come over tonight so we can run through the scene." After all it's a crucial scene, the one where Aragorn declines to take the Ring from Frodo's hand, and I want to make sure we have a good grasp on it. But I probably sounded like a lecherous co-star to him -- "So Elijah, maybe you should come over tonight so I can imagine you naked and in my bed."
I swear, I'm losing my mind over him. Before I flew to New Zealand I thought, "Elijah Wood, sure I know who he is. The kid in that abysmal 'Flipper' movie I took Henry to see." Then I met him and realized that he's not a kid anymore, youthful looks notwithstanding. And after three months of being around him on-set and off, I've realized that I'm falling in love with him.
It's a midlife crisis, that's all it is. My feelings for him are just some absurd attempt to recapture my youth or some perverted desire to sully an untainted innocent. Okay, both arguments are complete bullshit. This is love, which means that I'm totally fucked.
"Hey, Viggo." Elijah enters the trailer and gives me a beautiful smile. "You ready to run the scene?"
As soon as I stop picturing you moaning as I suck your cock, I think. But all I say is, "Yeah."
"Cool." He takes off his lightweight jacket and starts biting his nails while I grab my script. God, that nail-biting habit is another thing I love. It's hard not to picture him with something else in his mouth. Fuck, don't go down that road.
"It has taken Boromir," Elijah says, effortlessly slipping into character.
"Where is the Ring?!" I demand.
"Stay away." Elijah scrambles backwards, actually falling on his perfect ass. "Whoops," he laughs. "Should we start again?"
"Nah, just keep going."
We get to the part where Aragorn is tempted by the Ring, and I realize that I have to kneel down in front of Elijah. Shit. Okay, no big deal. My line of sight is pointed directly at his crotch, but there's nothing I can do about that.
"I would have gone with you to the end," I recite, closing his outstretched palm. Oh, such soft hands. I wonder how they would feel on . . . shit. This is madness.
*****
ELIJAH'S POV
I want to kill Orli.
Don't get me wrong, I usually love the guy, but if he flirts with Viggo one more time I might just have a freak-out of Galadriel-esque proportions. And would it be possible for elf boy to be any more obvious? "Viggo, your poetry is beautiful." "Viggo, you're such an amazing actor." "Viggo, watch as I unnecessarily bend over to give you a perfect view of my ass."
At least Viggo isn't taking Orli up on his thinly veiled offers. I've considered flirting with Viggo a few times, but fear of crushing rejection and generally making an ass out of myself has prevented me from doing so. I did tell him I was gay, but I doubt he gives my sexuality a second thought. After all I'm a hobbit, the baby of the cast, only seven years older than his son, and he probably views any sexual activities he might have with me as some kind of pedophilia.
It's been five freakin' months since he arrived on-set and I'm no closer to my goal of being with him than I was when he first arrived. So mayble I should try Orli's method of flirting like crazy. Of course, I'm nowhere near as smooth or sexy as Orli is, and I can't exactly walk up to Viggo and tell him that I can suck cock like nobody's business.
The other problem is that it's not just sex that I want, although I'll settle for what I can get. Believe me, I tried to stop myself from falling in love with the great Viggo Mortensen, but I couldn't ignore his considerable charms and beauty. Eve had the apple, Boromir had the Ring, and I have Viggo -- the one thing you can't resist even though it will never truly fulfill your desires.
But how am I supposed to resist Viggo when he's standing there looking so fucking hot? I'm only human. It's not my fault that I love the man. Oh shit, he's walking towards me. Did he catch me staring at his ass? Okay, think of an excuse. I could always tell him that I'm doing research for a book called 'The Asses of the LOTR Cast'. There should be such a book, and Viggo's ass should be on the cover. Naked.
"You look bored," Viggo comments as he walks over to me.
"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood to be at a party tonight."
"Is everything alright?" The skin over one of his eyebrows knits together like it always does when he's concerned. That's the sexiest and sweetest little thing.
"Oh, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."
"Well if you feel like ducking out early, I could give you a ride back to your place." That's why I love him. So considerate. And now I have a chance to spend time with him alone. Nice.
*****
VIGGO'S POV
Shit shit shit shit shit. What the fuck was I thinking offering Elijah a ride back to his house? At this point I can barely keep my eyes on the road because he's doing that *thing*, that fidgeting thing where he shifts in his seat and bites his nails, which should be annoying but instead is arousing as fuck. And those blue eyes look at me, and I get so lost in them that I nearly hit a tree.
"You okay? You seem kind of . . . off."
"I'm fine," I lie. Mercifully I pull up to his house at that moment, ending the sweet torture that is spending time with Elijah Wood.
"Do you wanna come in for a drink? I've got beer -- the good kind."
"I should probably get going." Elijah nods, and is that disappointment in his eyes? "Well, um, maybe just one drink," I amend, not wanting him to be upset.
"Great!" he says with a grin. He bounds out of the car and I wearily turn off the engine before following him into the house. I'm too old for the unrequited love bullshit, especially the on-set kind. And yet here I am, completely totally absolutely utterly perfectly in love with a beautiful man -- he's *not* a boy -- who breaks my heart every time he smiles.
"So how are you?" I ask as he grabs a beer from the fridge and hands it to me. Lame question! my brain shouts at me.
"Good," he shrugs. "Actually, I wasn't really tired at the party; I just felt like getting away from everyone for a little while."
"But not away from me?" Once again, I have mastered the art of speaking without thinking.
Elijah scuffs his sneakers self-consciously on the linoleum floor of the kitchen and blushes. "You're different."
"Different how?" Shit, stop talking.
"You're . . . you're you," he says. "I don't know how to explain it. You're amazing. You're beautiful."
My brain is apparently not getting enough oxygen, because I could swear that Elijah just called me amazing and beautiful.
*****
ELIJAH'S POV
Amazing? Beautiful? Where did that come from? Sure, Viggo's amazing and beautiful, but I'm not supposed to tell him that! Argh, I'm such a stupid little *kid*!
"Elijah?" Viggo asks, his voice cracking a bit. "What . . . I mean . . ."
"I love you." Fuck! Please kill me now so that I don't have to endure the rejection I know is coming. Knowing Viggo, it'll be gentle rejection but rejection nonetheless.
"You love me?" There's disbelief in his voice, but strangely there doesn't seem to be any disgust. Wait, why is he putting down his beer and walking towards me? Is he going to hit me?
"Look, I'm not expecting you to love me back," I stammer, backing up a bit until I reach the counter and can't retreat any further. "And I'm sure you're not even gay and I hope this doesn't screw up our working relationship--mmfff!"
Wow. Viggo is kissing me. Viggo. Is. Kissing. Me. Holy crap, he's kissing me, he's kissing me, he's kissing me!
*****
VIGGO'S POV
He loves me. I'm kissing him. He loves me *and* I'm kissing him. And this feels so right that there's no little voice in my head warning me why this could be wrong. There could never be anything wrong with kissing Elijah, feeling those soft but surprisingly strong hands reach up to tangle in my hair, those sinful lips parting beneath mine, that slick tongue sliding against my own.
It's only when air becomes a necessity that we break apart, both of us breathing hard. My pulse quickens when I see the amazement and love and lust in his eyes. "You kissed me," he says in an awestruck voice.
"I did."
"Why?"
"Isn't that obvious?" I ask, fixated on the sight of his flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. "Because I feel the same way you do. I love you, Elijah."
He grins and pulls my head down for another kiss. There's no need
for words, no need to 'talk things over', because we both know somehow
that this is right. I guess it goes to show that even people who
are completely fucking clueless can still have happy endings.
