by Azhiaz

It feels so good I'm going crazy
My eyes roll back inside my head
Explore my inner warmths of pleasure
And hold on tight
Hope you aint scared
I promise I'll return the favor
I'll do that trick you can't resist
Two rights don't make it wrong
Makin' love 'till the break of dawn
Emotions all up in a twist twist twist twist twist

-- Joi, "Lick"

Viggo stood, his jaw clenching, the heat of the sun weak and pale against his skin. The temperature was dropping, although the sky was still clear, and through no fault of his own he was stuck here waiting to shoot the scene again. The crew milled about the rocks, real and otherwise, at Amon Hen.

Viggo ignored them.

His attention was locked on Elijah, eyes dropped at the moment in an imitation of demure. Viggo's fingers brushed reflexively against the oiled leather of his bracers- soft smooth slide- as Elijah looked up. Saw him looking. And for the hundredth time that day, parted his lips and licked them. Viggo's fingers clenched, nails digging half-moons into the dark material. It was warm, warm from Viggo's skin, carrying still a memory of life. Viggo's skin remembered other things. Remembered yesterday.

Viggo blinked and came back. Places, yes, that's right. He moved again towards Frodo, towards the Ring, dropping to his knees as he folded his hands around temptation incarnate.

--covers Elijah's body with the swing and rock of his own, small stubby fingers scrabbling harmlessly at his back. Elijah pressing back against him, skin burning Viggo like a brand at each place they touch and release, and yes his eyes have the look of fever about them, glassy need-

"And cut!" Startling intrusion, and Viggo realized belatedly that he doesn't know what he just said. He hoped that it was Aragorn's lines. Elijah looked rather amused. He leaned over and whispered in Viggo's ear.

"A bit distracting being on your knees in front of me?"

Viggo stood and brushed his knees off. Elijah's words sent another sharp throb through Viggo's already-hard cock. He shifted his stance slightly and smiled back at Elijah.

"You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But it will not save you."

A gratifying shiver that Elijah didn't quite manage to conceal passed over his face before he recovered. "Take any good pictures lately?" he said with a small laugh.

"Some," Viggo said nonchalantly. "I'm watching to see how they…turn out. Who knows? I might need to take them again."

Elijah opened his mouth to reply but then it was places again. Viggo concentrated, focused on getting through this, not thinking about dropping down before Elijah, not looking to see if Elijah was as hard as he was. Not looking. No. Not thinking about the way his fingers feel dirt-chill in the air now, outside, open.

--moving faster, the heat and sweat humming from him, sheening on Elijah's chest, mingling damp, and Elijah's fingers were warm as they slid down to cup his ass and jerk him harder inside. A strangled half-sob from Elijah as he sunk deep, deep, and it feels like fucking nirvana to let go and pound into him, riding him hard, the world nothing but silkhot skin until he comes with a shudder and collapses on top of Elijah's quivering form-

Somehow, that worked. Peter called that a wrap. A fucking miracle, but a timely one, Viggo thought. One more take and…well. He didn't think that he would remember his lines next time, autopilot notwithstanding. Viggo stood up again, grateful that there wasn't time left today to run with the fight scene. His hand brushed the softly scratchy green wool of Elijah's- Frodo's- cloak, and Elijah smiled.

And proceeded to lick his lips again, taunting invitation bald on his face.

Viggo whipped his hand out and locked on to Elijah's wrist in a steel grip. Elijah's jaw dropped when Viggo turned and yelled over his shoulder to Peter.

"We'll be right back…the hobbit and I have something to discuss."

Viggo didn't bother with waiting around for the mumbled assent. He jerked a startled Elijah after him as he plowed through the techs and made for the Cuntebago.

Five seconds, five long seconds until the door has slammed behind him with a metallic whap, and Viggo has slammed Elijah up against the wall, inclining his head for a frantic kiss. He pressed against Elijah, again sliding his knee between and up and yes- no wondering now. Elijah arched against him, seeking friction, seeking more, and Viggo yanked Elijah's breeches down, wrapping long fingers around his hard cock. Elijah whimpered as Viggo slid his hand down and back up on the velvety shaft, quickly, every movement impatient, fucking in shorthand.

It's more work to get Aragorn's pants open, but not by much. Viggo looked around, a fast scan of the bottles and detritus littering the trailer, and his eyes settled on an industrial-sized bottle of baby oil that Virginia used for taking off Orli's ear glue. Elijah squirmed against his hand, bucking his hips and trying to catch Viggo's mouth for a kiss. Short dart of tongue- the taste of the same as yesterday, but not quite, overlay of apples- and Viggo leaned over and grabbed the bottle. Opened the lid. Poured a pool- too much- onto his fingers, sweet powdery scent wafting up from the slickly dripping puddle.

"Turn around." His own voice sounded harsh to Viggo's ears, but Elijah didn't argue. He turned around and faced the thin metal wall. Time…not much time. Viggo hurriedly coated himself with the oil, exhaling heavily at the brush of his own calloused fingers, rough and maddening, knowing exactly where-- a noise from Elijah that could have been a plea brought Viggo back to oh yes this now as he grabbed Elijah's hips and drove inside.

Heat.

Slick.

Tightmotherfuck.

Elijah jerked forward, sharp hiss of pain escaping through clenched teeth, but there was nowhere to go. Nothing but the wall to press against. Some part of Viggo's brain registered the thought- oh, damn, sorry - but it was far too late to go back now.

Viggo closed his eyes and slammed forward, lost in the feel of Elijah clenching around his cock, small lush sounds of Elijah's pleasure filtering through the haze.

Opened his eyes, and saw Elijah's hand stroking himself, the same odd little twist of the wrist as yesterday rolling in time to Viggo's thrusts, and the world shuddered apart. Viggo convulsed forward, lifting Elijah momentarily off the ground-

"Fuck-"

-- as Elijah stifled a scream, biting his hand and coming in thick spurts onto the wall.

His breath echoed raggedly in the trailer. Viggo pulled out slowly, sense returning, being careful. Elijah slumped backward against him, boneless. Warm.

"Sorry if I-" Viggo began.

"No, don't be," Elijah replied, turning in Viggo's arms, a goofy smile plastered on his face. "I'm glad you couldn't protect me from yourself."

Viggo laughed. "Into the very fires of Mordor." A strange little emotion was curling around behind his Adam's apple, thick and new.

"Which," Elijah said briskly as he pulled up his pants, "Is where we're going to be if we get caught."

"Yeah," Viggo said. He watched Elijah, all business, clean up in a blur of paper towels, and slowly put himself back together as well. Anything resembling urgency had left Viggo. Then they were ready to go- it was a given that the crew would suspect, but no sense making it too damn obvious- but Viggo caught Elijah's wrist once more as he was getting ready to dart out the door. He drew Elijah to him and kissed him, lingering over the soft wet parting of lips and the feel of Elijah's tongue as it entwined with his.

Memorizing. For tomorrow.

End.