Summary Intent

Recipient: honeyandvinegar
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: Elijah/Karl
Rating: NC-17


Elijah tells Dom it’s better this way because he knows almost nothing about the man, and wants to know even less. It’s easier, because he doesn’t see Karl on the set or for that matter in daylight, and so there’s none of the chatty banter bullshit Elijah feels like he’s still learning after eight months in New Zealand. There’s no chance for familiarity to breed contempt if there’s nothing familiar, no second thoughts in the morning if there’s no morning shared.

So it’s just fucking, Dominic says over the roar of waves, and Elijah nods at his own reflection in Dom’s sunglasses. It’s not that Elijah’s felt the need to suddenly spill all this to Dom, but better him than Astin, who’d spend the next week and a half demanding assurance that Elijah was being careful. It’s not really about being careful for you, Dom laughs, and Elijah nods again.

What it is about, sometimes -- and this is something Elijah doesn’t share with Dominic or all that often with himself -- is finding the one person here who can give him what the rest can’t; a release not unlike the kind the others get from the bungee jumping, the surfing, and the endless run of girls and boys grinding away at Billy and Dominic or even Orlando. There may be nothing deep about what Elijah needs and wants, but there’s nothing fleeting about it either, and that makes all the difference.

It’s better this way, because Karl doesn’t know it yet.


You’ve done this before, Karl says, and Elijah nods, the only thing he can do in any case with one of Karl’s hands covering his mouth and the other wrapped around his dick like a roughened sleeve, pulling and twisting and making Elijah breathe hot and damp against Karl’s palm.

Elijah’s back is against Karl’s chest, less resting than trapped there, and he can feel Karl -- can feel the scrape of cotton and denim between them and imagine how hard Karl has to be, can be, must be. Elijah’s desperate for it, and shifts against Karl, little noises of greed coming from his throat and forcing their way past Karl’s hand, and Karl reacts much as Elijah expects him to, tightening his grip on Elijah’s dick and stilling them both.

I think you’re lying, Karl murmurs after a full minute’s passed, and then he moves, shoving Elijah forward on his hands and knees -- where he wanted to be in the first place, yes, but it’s not going to happen that easily, and Elijah knows it, feels it, and will fight it.

“Don’t -- ” he starts, but his voice sounds shredded, needy. “You can’t do this -- ”

“Go home,” Karl says, but gently, leaning where he still sits, against the wall in the one wide swath of moonlight in the room. The moon does things for him the sun couldn’t possibly, Elijah thinks distractedly, but then the anger returns.

“I’m not going fucking anywhere -- ”

Karl laughs and stretches, arching his back before his hand drifts to his waist. “I’m not going to fuck you, Elijah. I’ll live without the stress -- ”

“Fuck stress.” Elijah’s neck snaps a little when he’s angry and gives in to it, like a cornered animal. Karl raises his eyebrows and waits, and Elijah breathes hard, chasing after the words he wants. “I don’t want anything from you; I don’t even like you. I don’t even know you. That’s the point -- ”

“Elijah.” Karl’s voice is very soft, but the tone’s right, exactly enough to make Elijah stop. “Stop talking and come here.”

Elijah advances, still on his knees but with eyes narrowed. As he gets closer, he sees it: Karl’s hand sliding inside his jeans, waiting for Elijah, waiting specifically for something Elijah didn’t come here for, but it’s a start, right, and --

Karl’s hand moves this time to fist in Elijah’s hair and bring him close enough that they’re sharing breath and what Elijah hopes is going to be a hell of a lot more. “I’m not going to fuck you,” he repeats, and tugs harder at Elijah’s hair when Elijah squirms. “Not for a long time, if at all. You want something other than that and you’re willing to work for it, you’re welcome to stay.”

“Please,” Elijah says, then, conscious of the air cooling around his body and desperate to make it stop. “Whatever, just -- ”

The kiss is kinder than he deserves, Elijah thinks, but he’ll take it, just as he’ll take anything else on offer now.


Karl tells Ian it’s better this way because he knows almost everything about the kid, and wants to know even more. It’s easier, because he doesn’t see Elijah around the other hobbits or for that matter anyone else, and so there’s none of the preconceptions or in–jokes established before Karl joined them eight months into filming. There’s no knowing whose fingerprints are already on Elijah, no gauntlet of protection around him when he hardly needs protecting in the first place.

So it’s just fucking, Ian says on a long exhale, and Karl nods and waits for the smoke to clear from in front of Ian’s impassive face. It’s not that Karl’s felt the need to suddenly spill all this to Ian, but better him than Viggo, who’d spend the next week and a half questioning (neither condoning nor condemning) Karl’s intentions. It’s not about intentions for you, Ian laughs, and Karl nods again.

What it is about, now -- and this is something Karl doesn’t share with Ian or at this point with himself -- is making Elijah trade on a part of himself that will never be caught on film. It’s about testing Elijah, in a way unlike all the other tests Rings has brought. There may be nothing easy about what Karl will give Elijah, but it’s nothing Elijah doesn’t want, either, and that makes at least some of the difference.

It’s better this way, because Elijah has no idea exactly what he wants, and Karl very much does.


Two weekends in, and Elijah’s brief bursts of petulance have for the most part ceased. He’s spent several hours on his knees in Karl’s little house fifteen miles away from the nearest member of the cast, and the results have more often that not been worth it. Karl’s sussed him -- a term Elijah’s learnt from Dominic, and one that seems appropriate -- out so well Elijah’s never had time to play catch–up and return the favour, and so he spends those hours on his knees doing what he can, which is, Karl tells him, a lot more than he thinks.

Karl still hasn’t fucked him, regardless of what they’ve each told others. And it ‘s not that Elijah hasn’t asked, hasn't begged for it, hasn’t promised shit he can’t even pronounce. Elijah’s offered everything he has, and twice Karl’s taken something -- Elijah’s mouth, specifically, taken it brutally, and after Karl had come, fisting Elijah’s hair again and allowing him no room to turn away from the result of his quick little tongue’s work, Elijah had found himself reduced once more to the sort of begging that had gotten him nowhere thus far.

Still, tonight that has to change, right? Elijah’s not bound to old, cheap wood bedposts for nothing. His back isn’t aching against the scrollwork of the headboard just for shits and giggles. He’s earned it by now.

When Karl moves up the bed on his hands, looming -- yeah, that’s the word, Elijah thinks, and tries to settle against the sad fucking headboard -- over Elijah a bit and for once not smiling as he does so, Elijah feels it, knows instinctively that this is it, Karl’s going to fuck him, and then it’ll be done and he’ll have what he came for --

Which was what, exactly?

Elijah’s knees fly up, a nervous little reaction that makes him blush and makes Karl raise those eyebrows again. Elijah shakes his head wildly and Karl waits it out for a minute before he presses his hand to Elijah’s mouth and steadies him, steadies them both as he does so often it makes Elijah want to scream.

When Elijah’s calm again, Karl sits back, his hands curling over Elijah’s knees and spreading his legs on the mattress, just enough that Elijah sinks down against the headboard to relieve the discomfort of the awkward position. Karl doesn’t scold him, just slides his hand down the inside of Elijah’s thigh and cradles Elijah’s dick carefully, coaxing him back to right here, right now, and out of his own head.

It’s then that it hits Elijah: Karl’s not going to do anything but what he’s already done, the fierce, demanding handjobs that can go on forfuckingever. Elijah’s eyes close tightly and he sucks in air between his teeth, frustrated with himself as much as Karl, and then Karl’s back again, Elijah’s chin in his hands, and his voice very soft in Elijah’s ear you’re going to keep your eyes open.

And he will, and he does.


When he staggers into the trailer Monday morning, Elijah doesn’t hear Dominic’s nervous laughter or see Billy’s determinedly blank stare. He doesn’t feel Astin’s eyes on him, and he doesn’t react when the makeup artist takes one look and says simply rough night.

It’s when Dominic corners him after dinner, drags him by one arm behind his own trailer and stares at him hard that Elijah nods, just nods and sags and Dominic catches him before they both hit the ground.

You were supposed to be careful, Dominic hisses, and Elijah laughs, softly at first and then raucously, like a cawing bird, and it’s a sound that makes Dominic shiver and Billy and Astin both come find them where they stand.

Just his luck, Karl supposes, that the day after he’s again denied Elijah what he wanted is the first time he’s on set at the same time as the kid. He hears Elijah’s rattled, screaming laughter, too, from hundreds of yards away, and he’s halfway to rising from the canteen’s bench before Ian catches a fold on his costume and pulls Karl back down to sit.

And what did you intend to do? Ian smiles from above his cup of coffee, and it’s after the steam clears from in front of his face that Ian sees the concern flash over Karl’s eyes and then vanish as quickly as it came, confirming what he already knew.

And then it’s Ian’s turn to stand, to walk them both toward the sound.


Dominic doesn’t give Elijah up easily, and Karl can’t honestly blame him. Elijah’s half–asleep against the trailer and yet still laughing, hoarsely, almost a cough now, and he doesn’t even register Karl’s presence until he’s close enough that they’re sharing breath again. Elijah’s hands are the ones curled into fists now, scraping against the coarse fabric of Karl’s costume before he’s pushing at Karl weakly with one breath and pulling him back with the next.

Karl gathers him up, turns Elijah around so he’s facing the trailer and moving for the door. The hobbits scatter slowly, dragging Dominic away when he lags behind, and Karl nods at Ian and waits -- you’re good at that, you’re just really fucking good at waiting, Elijah thinks before he sags again, this time against the edge of the bed in the trailer and he can’t see Karl or anyone else -- for Ian to back down and away, too. It doesn’t take long, and then Karl’s closing the door, closing everything else out and closing in on Elijah the way --

The way Elijah’s wanted since the beginning.

Karl hushes Elijah’s thoughts and words, tells him it’s going to be different, harder but better, too, and Elijah believes him, turning onto his stomach like the greedy little fuck Karl once told him he’s always been. Elijah fights it when Karl tries to move him to his back again, fights like a frightened cat, and Karl gives in but doesn’t, catching Elijah’s wrists and locking them at the small of his back, keeping Elijah where he wants to be but not anymore how.

Do you want it to hurt? Karl asks, and Elijah nods, the only thing he can do in any case with his forehead burning against the sheets of his makeshift bed and Karl’s hand wrapped around his wrists like a fucking vise, pulling and twisting and making Elijah’s breaths come out ragged.

Karl’s chest is against Elijah’s back, less resting than trapping there, and Elijah can feel Karl -- can feel the fabric of their costumes shifting and then the heat of Karl’s dick against his ass. There’s no more imagining, no more dreaming of being opened up, found out, taught or taken.

I think you’re telling the truth, Karl murmurs after a full minute’s passed, and then he moves, pushing forward and into Elijah’s body -- where Elijah wanted him to be in the first place, yes, and it’s not supposed to happen easily, and Elijah knows it, feels it, and won’t fight it. It’s everything brilliant -- another phrase he’s learnt from Dominic -- in every sharp, shocked sense of the word. Karl’s relentless, everything Elijah had hoped for and more, and when his hand wraps around Elijah’s dick, it doesn’t matter that it hurts, or that he’s coming harder than ever before. It doesn’t matter that Karl doesn’t really want him, and it doesn’t matter that he wants Karl more than he’s wanted anything else.

It doesn’t matter that it’’ll never happen again.


Concept created by Megolas in 2002
Fabulous artwork ©2002 by Hope.
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