Slashababy 2004 Stories

  FANFICTION: This story depicts real-life public figures engaged in completely fictional, false and untrue activities. It never happened, it never will happen. This story is a work of fantasy and satire which in no way professes to express the truth about the life, thoughts, feelings, desires, opinions, beliefs, activities or sexual orientation of any person mentioned herein.

The Breakdown of Elijah Wood in 7 Parts

for darkelfgrl
by dystopic


There's something very intense about the look that Viggo gives him now, eyes peering out from beneath tangled hair, a small smile residing at the side of his mouth. They're standing in a rough circle around Peter, each clutching his script for the day with their own lines highlighted, and Elijah shifts a bit, turns slightly to check out if there's anyone standing behind him that Viggo might be staring at- nope. He bites the inside of his cheek and tries to focus on Peter.

Peter's gesturing and making cramped notes in the already filled margin of the script as he gives them the outline for the shoot, saying, "...and then you come over the ridge, and the camera will pan to you first, Sean, then down the row, and-"

Viggo coughs once, lightly. Elijah jumps slightly and turns startled eyes back onto the other man. Viggo's worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, looking calmly contemplative, and Elijah thinks briefly that he would look beautiful if he were staring off into the distance instead of staring directly at Elijah and almost smiling.

It is the almost smile that unnerves him, instead of the unblinking steady gaze. It is a beautiful smile, open and uncomplicated and un-self conscious. It is a smile full of possibilities.

Elijah stares back for a moment, then deliberately turns away.


The next morning, before the sun has even risen, Viggo finds Elijah hiding out behind the makeup trailer reading his script by the light of his cell phone.

"I know the hobbits hate Feet, but really, isn't this going a little too far?" Viggo says, stepping out from behind the corner where he has been watching Elijah for the past fifteen seconds, and Elijah jumps and swings his cell phone light over.

Viggo squints in the blue light and lifts a hand in greeting.

"I'll go in once Sean and Billy are done and Mary is just about to rip her hair out," Elijah says. "We all try and hide from Feet one time or the other." He shrugs, suddenly shy.

Viggo nods, brings out his hand from behind his back, and offers Elijah a cup of coffee. "Mary sent me to find you," he says quietly. "Since I was done and the other assistants were busy trying to calm Dom down- someone slipped him alcohol in his coffee, did you know?"

Elijah smirks, and takes the proffered cup. "Doesn't Orlando owe Dominic one?"

Viggo shakes his head. "Nah, Orlando was still sleeping in the spare trailer drooling on his wig the last time I checked. And I have the undeveloped photographic evidence to prove it."

When Viggo smiles mischievously, the sides of his eyes crinkle up and his face lights up with glee. Elijah is suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close they're standing- Viggo is practically breathing on him.

He shakes his head, and blinks up at Viggo, confused. Viggo is still smiling down, still beautiful, still inviting, Elijah realizes-

"I have to go," he mumbles hurriedly, giving Viggo one last confused glance before turning and fleeing.

It is only when he is slumped against the wall of the makeup trailer, panting and blinking in the sudden harshness of the lights and letting Mary's scolding about people who hide from her wash over him that he realizes that he is still clutching the empty cup.

For the rest of the day, he goes around with the image of Viggo's briefly disappointed look imprinted into his mind.


Two days later Viggo manages to convince Peter that the scenes he has with Elijah are ridiculously under-rehearsed.

Peter orders them to spend the rest of their rehearsal time for that week going over their lines together, and actually tells Dominic off for attempting to distract Elijah with his pranks.

Elijah wonders if he's becoming paranoid when he starts focusing more on making sure that they always have three feet between them when they do lines. He stiffens whenever Viggo touches him.

Viggo stops making him coffee after the third day of rehearsals.


The rest of the cast have noticed the new tension developing between them, but true to Fellowship nature, they don't comment, and merely work around it.

Elijah dreams about Viggo at night, and now he often stays up as late as he can, watching bad TV or talking on the phone with one of them.

Orlando makes a comment one day about how raccoon-eyed Elijah has become, and jokes that if he's not careful he would permanently adopt Frodo's haunted look soon.

Elijah snarls something back tiredly, and thinks 'haunted' is a good word to use.


The next morning, there's a cup of coffee waiting on the desk in Elijah's trailer with a note stuck underneath and two bottles of pills lined up neatly next to them.

Elijah crumples up the note without reading it and instead drinks the coffee gratefully. He ignores the pills and forgets about them until he comes in again later in the day.

One is a bottle of sleeping pills, with a red box drawn around the WARNING cautions.

The other is a bottle of anxiety pills.


A week later, Elijah is walking back to the set from a break when he spots Viggo standing alone out on top of a hill with his back to him. Somehow, the sight infuriates him, and without thinking Elijah stalks up to Viggo from behind and hisses vehemently in his ear, "I'm not going to fucking let myself want you, so stop trying to make me!"

Viggo turns around with a startled look on his face. "Um," he begins, looking very confused, and it is then that Elijah notices the sword in his hand, and the circle of bemused faces turned towards him, and realizes with horror that Viggo had been rehearsing fight scenes. There's a long silence, whereby Elijah stares at Viggo, and Viggo and the rest stare back.

Then Orlando says loudly, breaking the silence, "let's take a break," and everyone murmurs agreements. Elijah looks around until he spots Orlando walking away with the others, and silently thanks him fervently.

"So," Viggo says finally, when the rest have left, and it's just them and the wind, "what was that all about?"

His calmness irritates Elijah even more, and he snarls, "Oh don't pretend; you know!"

The side of Viggo's mouth twists into a little frown, and he shakes his head. "No, Elijah," he says slowly, "no, I don't. I have no idea what this is all about. I don't always know the minds of people who suddenly come up over my shoulder and hiss into my ear like some creepy swamp creature."

"I do not hiss," Elijah says automatically, indignantly, "and I'm not going to want you." There. He's said it. Elijah's surprised to discover that his hands are actually shaking.

"Um. Okay. So," and Viggo pauses. A small breeze blows a lock of stray hair into Viggo's face, and he makes no move to brush it out of his eyes. It's very distracting, the way Viggo's soft brown eyes peek out from underneath the curtain of hair; the way they peer curiously down at Elijah now; the way that lock of hair turns this way and that as the wind plays with their clothes. Elijah wonders if 'looking at something a really long time' equals to staring.

"I'm not going to want you," Elijah repeats, but this time there's a desperate edge to his words. "I'm not going to, you understand? Every time I want something it never turns out right. And I'm not going to screw up friendships and make people miserable so I can have my own little relationship drama, do you understand? So you can just fucking forget about the whole 'looking when you think I don't notice' and the secret smiles and the moments when we're alone and you find some excuse to touch me or something because it just won't work."

And there, now he's visibly shaking and he can feel it and Viggo's just looking at him, quietly saying-

"It could." There's a pause. "It could," Viggo says again, softly.

"Yeah, we could screw up," Elijah insists. "This whole thing could be shot to hell in five days when I cheat on you with a Dominic and Billy sandwich and you get seduced by Orlando. Or, or, god, I don't know, something always happens to screw up all the good things in life and I don't want this to be it as well, I-"

"Elijah," Viggo says, and Elijah stops and looks at him. "We wouldn't know for certain until we tried, right? And we'll give it our best shot. It could be- it could be okay."

There's a long silence. The wind is cold.

"Okay," Elijah says finally, blinking up at Viggo. It's more of a question, but Viggo doesn't hear it.


The sex, when they finally get to it, isn't hot and rough, or gentle and sweet. It's just raw flesh and hard kisses and fingers ignoring buttons and zips in favor of sliding up shirts and reaching down into pants to drag out wet moans from the both of them.

The tiny cramped room reeks of desperation. Elijah plants hot kisses down the side of Viggo's face and latches onto Viggo's neck, sucking frantically at the flesh. Viggo gasps when Elijah uses his teeth, and detachedly wonders how he's going to explain the marks tomorrow for makeup. He's tugging at the bottom of Elijah's shirt, but Elijah's body is heavy on top of him and now Elijah's hands are fumbling with his belt, tugging at the zipper.

"Wait," Viggo wants to say, just as Elijah's hot mouth closes around the head of his cock, and all words are driven out of his mind. Elijah's tongue is running down the underside of his cock, then flicking back to swirl around the head, and Viggo's hands have unconsciously tangled themselves in Elijah's hair, not pressing him down but holding him there.

Elijah's fascinated by the noises that Viggo makes. It's almost like he's conducting a choir- suck here, and Viggo's deep moans fills the small room, tongue flick there, and now Viggo's making a soft whine as his hands tighten their hold and Elijah's scalp is on fire. He cups Viggo's balls, gently running a thumb around them, and then Viggo's moaning quietly and lying useless on the mattress writhing beneath Elijah.

A few more tongue flicks, and then Viggo's gone, face scrunched up and making soft noises as he's coming.

It isn't passion, this thing that they're doing, Viggo realizes, as Elijah licks the last few drops and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. There's nothing passionate in someone lost and going through the motions.

"Was that okay?" Elijah asks quietly as he moves back up to lie next to Viggo. His head is resting on Viggo's shoulder, and his eyes are closed.

Viggo stares at the ceiling. "Yeah," he says softly. But he thinks; Elijah was right the first time. And he doesn't know how to tell Elijah that.


Slashababy 2004 Stories