"Fucking eyes. Knowing, dark, sybaritic eyes..." Elijah mumbled to himself, pacing the length of the small, chartered plane taking him to New Zealand to film more scenes for "Rings". He tapped fingers of one hand on his jeans as he paced, gnawed a nail of the other hand with sharp, small teeth. "Fucking body -- big, muscled, dark...God." "Lij, what are you muttering about over there?" Elijah turned to Astin, who was sitting in his seat, lap belt still pulled across his now lean waist, green eyes full of concern on that open face as he looked up from his crossword. Poor Sean. Bet he really would be terrified by all the things Harry'd done. "I'm...uh...well, fuck, Sean, I'm nervous about Harry." "Harry?" "Harry Sinclair? Played Isildur?" Sean nodded in understanding. "Oh yeah, friend of Pete's and Karl's. Right. So, what's the deal? He seemed like a nice enough guy." Elijah shook his head, bluer than blue eyes wide in his small face. "Oh no, you don't know him. You haven't looked into his eyes." Sean's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Sure I have. Brown, right?" "Not just brown," Elijah stated, resuming his pacing. "Wicked brown. Tawny, knowing, see right through your soul, amaretto brown." "All that, huh?" Sean sounded amused. "It's true." Elijah pointed a ragged-looking finger at Sean to emphasize his point. His small body fairly quivered with pent-up energy. "And we won't even go into the voice." "It was pleasant enough," Sean said, picking up his crossword again. "Sounded a bit like Peter -- all soothing." "Soothing? Are you mad?" Elijah started chewing on another non-existent nail again. He needed a fucking cigarette in the worst way. "Christ, Sean, his voice is pure sin. And we won't even get into that body. All big and huge and muscled and toned and intense...God, he's intense, Sean, did you ever notice that?" Sean barely glanced up. By now, he was well used to twitchy, nicotine-deprived Elijah. "Not really, no." "And the things he says." Elijah went right on talking, right on pacing. He was also used to Sean ignoring him. "Did you know he had such a dirty mouth?" "No." "He'd make a sailor blush." Elijah stopped, flopped down on the floor, curled his knees to his chest. "Christ, Sean. And he's huge. All over." Elijah's voice dropped on the last bit. Sean put down his puzzle. "How do you know that?" "I just do." Elijah nodded sharply to emphasize. "And..." He looked around, to make sure no one was listening. Not that anyone would be. They were the only two passengers on the plane. "He's got incredible staying power. And he pounces. Pounces, Sean! I can't believe I had a crush on him. I can't believe I thought he was nice." "He is nice," Sean replied, leaning forward, resting hands on knees. "What is this all about, anyway?" Elijah wasn't listening, just started rocking back and forth in a ball. "I mean, he'd kill me. You should have seen him fuck Orlando up against the wall." Sean bolted upright in his seat, eyes almost bugging out of his head. "What??!!" "In 'Swap Meet'," Elijah stated, eyes bright. "It's violent. And intense. And the look in Harry's eyes..." Elijah shuddered. "He'd break me." Sean buried his face in his hands, rubbed fingers over his eyes. "You're talking about that goddamn fanfic site again, aren't you? What's it called? RHS something?" "RPS," Elijah corrected him, now chewing on his whole thumb. Needed a cigarette. Now. "LOTR-RPS. And Closer Than Brothers. And BloomWood. Although," he pondered, "the BloomWood people only seem to write about me. Not Harry." "Elijah, you do realize you're talking about fiction here?" Sean's voice was gentle, soothing, much like the tone one would use talking to someone who was completely unhinged, Elijah thought. Well, he wasn't unhinged. "No, but I really think these chicks must be onto something because they've captured you and they've captured Dom and they've captured Vig and Bean. They must know something I don't." "Something you don't about what?" Although Sean was afraid to know. "About Harry, of course." Elijah got up, started pacing again, steps getting larger and larger. "Moody, intense, pouncing, arrogant Harry. He pounces, Sean, have I mentioned that? And he's really big. And I'm afraid he'd break me..." Sean gave up. "Jesus, you need therapy." * * * It was lovely to see everyone again. Peter and Fran had decided to throw a party to welcome the return of Frodo and Sam, and their house was bursting with people, noise, fun, camaraderie and friendship. Felt weird to be here without the other members of the Fellowship, but Karl, Sala and Dave had shown up a little while ago, so it was still good. And the others would be flying in next week. Elijah stepped out on the back porch, lit his...okay, he'd stopped counting how many he'd had...cigarette of the night, sat on the rocker to look up at the stars. Christ, there were so many of them. He'd still never seen a sky to rival this one. "Hey there." A tap on Elijah's shoulder had him looking up. And up. Into Harry Sinclair's intense, dark, sybaritic, knowing eyes. Except they looked pretty open and friendly at the moment. But Elijah knew that could change in a heartbeat. Harry always looked genial right before he pounced. "Meep!" It was the only sound he was capable of making. "You okay?" No, no okay not. He wasn't. Okay that is. Just...Harry. Big, large, break-him-in-two, pouncing Harry. Meep. He just nodded. And looked for a way to escape. Harry seemed taken aback by Elijah's response. Lack of response, rather. Because Elijah couldn't think of one. "Well, just thought I'd pop out and say hi." And his voice...just, God...Elijah was melting, knew he was melting. And he knew what came after the melting. Then came the whirlwind. After Harry had you all ragdoll-like and complacent, then he just...hit you with all the intensity. Meep. Elijah jumped up, darted around Harry, started to make a run for the house. And safety. Christ, he was such a girl sometimes. "Elijah!" Stopped. Just his name on the other man's tongue...God, those women really did know what they were talking about in those fics. Elijah turned wide eyes to the man still standing next to the chaise, too close for comfort, not far enough away. "Why are you running?" Harry asked. Elijah shrugged helplessly, puffed on his cigarette. Wished he were addicted to something stronger. Wished he could chew his nails and smoke at the same time. "Dunno." "I thought we got on pretty well when you were here." "We...uh..." Harry smiled, and it wasn't very knowing. Actually it looked kind of shy, but that was probably a trick of the shadows. "Thought maybe you'd like to out sometime." Out? With Harry? Alone? Elijah's eyes grew wider until it felt like they were swallowing his whole face. Alone, Harry. Meep. "Uh...can't...just..." Light brown eyes looked down at him in puzzlement. "I thought you liked me." "I did. I do...I just..." Elijah Wood, could you complete a fucking sentence, please? "I wouldn't be able to handle you," he blurted, rushing the words in one tangled heap. "Handle me?" "I just..." Elijah stopped, dragged his cigarette to his lips again with shaking fingers. "It's just...Christ, Harry, you're just too..." "Too?" Harry prompted. "Just too." Complete thought. "Too, huh?" Harry smiled, showing white teeth. "Never been called that before." "Sure you have...too much, just too much, you're too much, and I should have known better." "What?" Harry looked lost. "They write all this stuff on the lists about you." Elijah crushed his cigarette out until his foot, grinding it, stuffing hands into his jeans pockets. "And they all say the same thing, and they must know something I don't know because it's so goddamned real and true, and they've gotten everyone else right, so I'm sorry I just...can't." Harry looked down at him for a long moment, shook his head. "Christ, it's just fiction. If I believed everything I read about myself, I'd have to believe that you're a corrupt angel who likes hurt/comfort a bit too much," he said, grinning. "Don't you bother to read the disclaimers at the top of the fics?" Fics? Did Harry just say 'fics'? "What are you talking about?" "Hell, you think you're the only one who reads this shit?" Harry's wink was knowing. "I mean, yeah, some of it is incredibly well-written. Breaks my heart, makes me laugh, some of 'em make me horny as fuck." They both smiled at that and it eased a bit of Elijah's tension. "But it's all just fiction," Harry continued, shrugging. "They don't know us. I'm not a god in bed, at least I don't think so. And my dick isn't all that huge. And yeah, I can be focused, and sure I can be intense when I'm working. But I'm not all that. I'm real. I get tired, I laugh at bad jokes, I make stupid mistakes, I piss people I love off, I leave the toilet seat up and sometimes I forget to brush my teeth." He paused, looked shocked at all of the words that had come tumbling forth. "Forget to brush your teeth?" Christ, bet those kisses tasted funky. Harry rolled his eyes. "It was just an example. Everybody forgets to brush their teeth every once in awhile. And I'll tell you something else. I've never looked at Karl twice except to think he's one deeply beautiful man. I don't know why we keep getting paired together." What, was Harry blind? All that dark beauty in one place? Jesus. Elijah would definitely pay money to see it. "It's a beautiful thought." Harry seemed to consider it. "Hmm, maybe. But he's a good friend. Nothing more." Elijah understood. Everyone kept trying to pair him with Dom and, to his dying day, he would never get that. Jeez, you'd think people never fucking held hands in public before them or something. "I'm sorry." "Don't be. I wish I was like the way they portray me sometimes." Elijah understood that too. Even as fucked up as some of the depictions of him had been, he still admired 'his' character's sheer ballsiness in some of them. Maybe he could have some of these girls write his real life for him. "Why are you smiling?" Was he? "Am I?" Elijah's smile grew wider. And Harry smiled back as well. And Elijah thought this was really fucking...just...nice. Sharing smiles with Harry. Who was bending his head to Elijah's. God. He froze...just...breathe, Elijah. "May I?" At Elijah's short, wide-eyed nod, Harry bent his head further. And his lips were nice. Warm. Firm. Didn't devour. Didn't consume. Didn't make his skin melt. But, it was still...nice. Very, really, fucking, incredibly nice. Harry lifted his head and winked. "See. No pounce." Elijah giggled. Just giggled. Like a fucking schoolgirl. God. Maybe there really was something to all of this fic stuff. Maybe in some things. "So, now what?" Harry shrugged. "Thought maybe I'd take you out to dinner. We could go from there. Sound okay with you?" No, maybe Harry wasn't the most intensely, insanely, so sexy it hurt to look at him man in the entire world. But that was okay. Because the reality of Harry was a lot more fun...and certainly more accessible than the fictional one. "Promise no pouncing?" And now Harry's grin was wicked. But in a really nice way. He bent so his mouth was right next to Elijah's ear. "Not on the first date." Onto The Unfanoning of VigOrli
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