Author: Cesare (almostnever)
Pairing: Elijah/Viggo, Dom/Viggo, Dom/Elijah, Viggo/Ian McK
Summary: Sex with Viggo is great, but it's not what Elijah imagined at all.
Post-reveal Notes: Thanks anatsuno!
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Elijah has this idea that fucking Viggo would be really artistic. He imagines Viggo muttering under his breath about planes and angles and light, hands smearing paint all over the canvas of Elijah's body (it's okay to be pretentious about it, like, "the canvas of his body," because Viggo really is an artist, plus it's a fantasy, shut up); he pictures the paint rubbing off onto Viggo himself, and onto the sheets.
And afterward, Viggo would hang the paint-striped sheets on his wall. And when the fellowship came over, they'd ask what was up with the sheet, and Viggo would just grin his funny flat-lipped grin.
Then Elijah does have sex with Viggo, and it's great-- no, really great. But it's not like that at all.
Elijah drinks enough to be brave but not so much he's useless. Which okay, is two shots. Anyway. It starts to mist outside, everyone else goes inside, but Viggo's still out in the yard on a wicker lawn chair.
It's barely drizzling, really; the rest of them are really being pussies. Elijah goes out and sits on the arm of his chair and takes Viggo's beer. Viggo gives a little laugh and lets him do it, his eyes sliding aside at Elijah's tightest jeans. And with Viggo, who the fuck knows, he could be admiring the weave of the denim or some fucking thing, but Elijah decides to risk it, and straddles him.
He thinks the odds are good that Viggo's into him, Viggo seems to be at least a little into everybody. The cast is so close that it's easy to play things off as a joke if they don't work out, so it's not really that ballsy a move. But it feels pretty fucking bold while Elijah's doing it, and his heart beats fast and light as he wriggles in nice and tight up against Viggo and comes at him for a kiss.
Viggo keeps his mouth closed for a second, a second that makes Elijah's stomach curdle painfully, but then Viggo's mouth opens and his hands arc under Elijah's thighs, push up and grab him by the ass. But even that could maybe still be a joke.
Then he sucks Elijah's tongue in a way that can't be anything but serious.
At first Elijah's aware of the rain, the sound of voices from inside, but Viggo's tongue fills his mouth and his hands drag up along Elijah's bare skin under his shirt and soon Elijah's really wishing he'd timed this a little better, because there are still a bunch of other people around and all he can think is: anything for privacy and a flat surface right about now, no, like now.
Viggo pushes him away a little, and touches his mouth; Elijah sucks his fingertips. Viggo makes an appreciative little noise deep in his throat, and looks around.
The side of the garden shed is smooth and flat and cold. They shove up against the side that's sheltered from the neighbors but semi-exposed to the back windows of Viggo's house, so they're taking a slight, exciting chance of being discovered. Elijah almost kind of hopes it'll happen, not that he needs the extra thrill now that Viggo's groping him and tearing into his mouth in earnest.
Elijah wonders what Viggo would say if Elijah told him this was his first time with a guy (not true, but the look on Viggo's face might be worth lying to see) or if Elijah said it was only his second time having sex standing up (true!)
Once Viggo starts in on the buttons of his jeans, though, Elijah more or less loses the power of speech, so lies or honesty, either way, he misses his chance.
It's over for him kind of quick, but fuck it, he refuses to be embarrassed about that. If Viggo wanted some kind of long-ass Tantric shit, he wouldn't have mashed Elijah up against the side of a garden shed. After getting off, Elijah concentrates on making it good for Viggo, sucking down his kisses, getting a hand down Viggo's jeans and working a wetted finger against Viggo's ass to just begin to press into him-- Elijah's bite-stubbed fingernails are handy for making that kind of thing go a little easier-- and he thinks it worked, because Viggo's spasms last a while when he comes.
Viggo wipes his messy hands on the wet grass. Elijah likes that. It's such a Viggo kind of thing to do.
Elijah comes inside damp-clammy and staggers around feeling dazed and insulated for the rest of the party. Everyone just seems to think he's drunk.
After the rest of them go home, Viggo sits him in an armchair and blows him. Since it's his second time of the night, Elijah's able to hold out a little longer and let the sight really burn in: Viggo's mouth wrapped around him, Viggo's hand on his shaft while his lips purse around the head, fuck yeah.
Then Viggo bends him over the armchair and slides his cock between Lij's cheeks, but holds back from fucking him, just ruts against him. Elijah almost hates to say anything, they have this cool wordless thing going on, but he hates to be a bad lay even more, so he cranes his neck to tell Viggo, "We can -"
Viggo cuts him off with "This is good," and Elijah's not about to argue. The harshness of Viggo's voice is pretty damn convincing, and getting fucked isn't Elijah's favorite thing anyway.
Then Viggo leans forward, blanketing over Elijah's back, and licks and sucks at Elijah's neck til Elijah can't help panting and twisting and making involuntary little noises. Elijah's cock strains to fill again, but he's nineteen, not superhuman.
That's apparently what Viggo's going for, though, because he keeps it slow and slow and slow until Elijah's going out of his mind and he's hard again. Viggo presents his hand at Elijah's mouth, and Elijah spits-- even in the throes of sex he finds that kind of hilariously disgusting, but whatever, Viggo's slicked hand closes around him, and with his other hand Viggo's-- jacking himself, or, no, wetting the head and guiding himself against Elijah's ass, sliding against him and catching on his asshole and digging into him insistently, not quite pushing in, but-- he's going to, he's definitely going to, Elijah tries to relax and push out and all that stuff that's supposed to make it easier because, God, any minute Viggo's going to really fuckhim, and he gasps and comes all over Viggo's hand and the back of the chair.
Dimly he feels Viggo pump himself a few more times and just press against Elijah's ass without breaching him, and then he feels Viggo's knuckles as the sweep of Viggo's hand glides all the way up and over the head of his dick and he comes too, pulsing across Elijah's ass and back.
The come's just starting to cool off when Viggo shakes himself a little and peels off Elijah and wipes up with a stray sock. Nasty. Especially when he uses the same sock to sponge off the back of the chair.
Neither of them have said anything still, so Elijah decides to go with it and gets wordlessly back into his clothes. Viggo doesn't bother dressing, just lounges in the despoiled armchair and watches him, faintly smiling. Elijah gives him a kiss that he hopes communicates something like Hey, thanks, that was great, and he leaves.
It was fantastic, and Elijah has no regrets, wouldn't change a thing. Three orgasms, after all: Viggo really knows how to show a guy a good time.
Still, that whole fantasy, the artistic thing, the paint-marked sheet on the wall... it was nothing like that.
Maybe Viggo'll hang up the sock.
And okay, so Elijah's fantasies were a bust. Not a problem. The real thing kicked ass. He's totally satisfied.
Except a few weeks later, Viggo has another party, and there's a sheet hung over the back door, smeared all over with paint in no discernable pattern, except for one purple handprint.
Pointing at the sheet, "What's this about, then?" asks Kenny, or maybe Kevin-- he's one of the WETA guys Elijah hasn't really worked with.
Viggo just grins and turns to help pass out more drinks.
Elijah spends the rest of the party prowling around looking at everyone's hands, trying to mentally map them to the handprint on the sheet. It's not that he's jealous per se. He doesn't begrudge anyone else sleeping with Viggo. He just wants to know how someone else ended up getting exactly what Elijah wanted from Viggo. Because... he's... yeah, jealous.
Okay, time to stop looking at everyone's palms, this is crazy. Elijah drinks more instead, until he has a good time in spite of himself.
On their next day off, the hobbits and Orli and their buddies from the crew convene at Elijah's place. Dom cooks for them, delicious but really heavy Italian food that pins everyone in their chairs and makes them all lethargic and drowsy and sends them home relatively early. Dom, though, sticks around.
"Here you are, Lijah," he says, bringing Elijah a beer. "Now, let's introduce you to the time-honored and venerable English tradition of bragging about one's shags."
"I don't think so." Elijah chugs a third of the beer fast in case Dom revokes it, and croaks, "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."
"That's why I didn't ask a gentleman, I asked you." Dom kicks back and puts his sneakers up on the arm of Elijah's sofa. "Give over, Lijah, you may as well tell me all about your dirty weekend with Viggo."
"My what now?"
Dom twirls his empty bottle on his fingertips. "What, did you think Viggo's garden shed has an invisibility cloak or sommat?"
Elijah swallows. He's not exactly embarrassed, but... "Did anyone else see?"
"Not for lack of opportunity. But no."
Well, there's that, anyway. Elijah relaxes. "Okay. What do you want to know?"
"I thought we could compare notes, like." Off Elijah's startled look, Dom gives him a big shit-eating grin and then makes a clicking sound in the back of his mouth between his teeth. "Say no more, eh, a nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat."
He should've known Dom and Viggo must have hooked up. They're the same in some ways. Funky, weird ways. They're both the kind of guy who'd offer use of his toothbrush, and wouldn't understand why you'd be too grossed out to accept. Dom's tried get Elijah to take a bite of whatever Dom's eating about five million times and doesn't get why Elijah pushes away sandwiches with Dom's teethmarks carved into them.
Elijah thought the English were supposed to be all uptight and fastidious, but Dom is one of the slobbiest people he's ever met. Along with Viggo. They probably smelled each others' stanky underwear before they fucked. Or after. God.
It's nasty, but they're both just so hot with it. Maybe Elijah needs a little more filth in his life.
Wait. Messy Viggo, messy Dom, that adds up to-- "That painted-up sheet, that was you?"
"Too right," says Dom. "Brilliant and all. You, though, how'd you have it with him?"
Elijah hesitates, but fuck it, it's Dom. "Well, it wasn't a whole weekend," he says. "I came onto him at the party when everyone else went in out of the rain. You know about the shed. Then after everyone left, he blew me on that armchair, and then we screwed around for a while. Whole time, neither of us said anything, really. That was cool." Elijah spreads his hands. "That's it. I mean, it was totally great, but I don't know what you want to hear."
"Never said a word?" Dom swigs from his beer and looks thoughtful, mouth quirked just slightly downward. "He muttered all the time we were at it."
"And you got paint all over both of you." Wow, that's an image. Viggo's hands smearing color all over the planes and angles of Dom's body, Dom's long hands slippery with paint groping Viggo's muscular ass... Dom's been Elijah's friend since the start, so there hasn't been much lusting from afar there. A little lusting from a-close, sure, but it's been easier to focus on the people he's not quite as tight with. Though right now he can't really remember why that seemed like a good idea.
"God, that paint, yeah," Dom's agreeing. "Fantastic at the time, but I had it flaking off for days."
"Man. That was how I thought it was going to be with him. How'd you end up getting it like that?"
"Wish I knew. He's a fantastic shag, but it's not what I expected. Cos really... how you did it, that's how I pictured it with me and him. Like we'd just understand each other, no talking--"
"You, not talking?"
"Give over, I can do," says Dom.
"So basically," Elijah realizes, "I got your fantasy, and you got mine."
"Sounds that way, dunnit?"
Elijah taps his fingers on the side of his beer bottle for a little while, and glances over at Dom, who's oddly and equally silent. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"You thinking we should both of us ask for a rematch?"
"Exactly," Elijah points at Dom. "We should go together. Gang up on him."
"Ooer, what d'you mean by that exactly?"
"I just mean we should go together," Elijah repeats, determined not to blush. He didn't exactly mean to propose a threesome, but it wasn't like he'd say no to it. As long as everyone's recently showered. And okay, honestly, probably even if they aren't. God, Dom and Viggo? Be real. Definitely if they aren't.
"Saturday, then, after filming's up," says Dom. "We'll corner him in his trailer." He grins. "It'll be great."
Saturday's a half day for everyone but Hugh and Liv and some assorted elves; as shooting comes to a close, Elijah's so keyed up and turned on that he inhales three cigarettes in about five minutes and then has to cram peppermint gum into his mouth to banish the taste. It seems to take forever to get out of hobbit drag, and he scrubs his ears hard in the shower, trying to make sure he gets all the glue off.
He's barely down the steps when "C'mon, Lijey-Lij," Dom says, springing out of nowhere and taking his arm. "Time to make a move, unless you've lost your bottle."
"No way," says Elijah. "You, uh, showered, right?"
Dom cuffs him, but doesn't say yes, to Elijah's momentary trepidation, so he gives Dom a sniff and feels up his hair; he's damp and smells nice.
"Oy, no feeling up the merchandise til the deal is sealed," Dom grins, and tugs him toward Viggo's trailer.
Viggo rarely locks his trailer when he's in it, and often just leaves the door hanging open. It's closed when Elijah and Dom approach, but Elijah doesn't think anything of it, just gives the knob a turn and swings it open.
He freezes, and feels Dom poke his head around to see why and then hesitate in turn.
Elijah's got a pretty damn artistic view of Viggo and Ian-- Sir Ian fuckin' McKellen!-- in profile. They stand in the bright afternoon sunlight slanting in from the window, staring at each other, way too intent to notice anything beyond their shared pool of light. Elijah leans a little away, further into the shadow cast by the trailer. Viggo and Ian are way up in each others' personal space, and when they kiss, it feels inevitable, and also like the latest of a lot of kisses like it; it's definitely familiar.
Viggo slowly kneels, never breaking eye contact with Ian, and just that, just the power of the rapport, is hotter and more shocking than if they were actually all-out fucking. Viggo's hands rest on Ian's waist, his fingers curling over, gliding to meet at the fly, and Elijah eases back-- kind of forcibly pushing against Dom, who's clearly got no intention of moving unless he's shoved-- and shuts the door and slowly ekes back down the steps.
"Um," says Elijah.
"Yeah." Dom glances at the door against as if he's wishing he could see through it. Elijah knows the feeling, but at the same time, that looked... personal in a way that maybe the sex between Elijah and Viggo, or Dom and Viggo, probably wasn't. Whatever was happening there didn't have anything to do with idle fantasies. That was real all the way.
"Damn," Elijah says eventually. "I don't think we're gonna get a rematch."
Dom tilts his head all the way over one way, then the other, stretching and cracking his neck. "Not today, any road."
"I'm gonna guess, at all."
"Well then, now what," says Dom. "I dunno about you but I'm in a bit of a state. Looking forward to this all day, and then seeing that..."
Elijah bites back a nervous smile and darts a look his way. "Same here."
Finally Dom says, "You know, I have paints as well."
"Yeah?" Elijah takes Dom's arm this time, pulls in close and catches his eye. They don't quite have the same kind of all-encompassing intensity between them as Viggo and Ian... but it's a start, because Dom's right there with him, meeting him head-on, staring him down.
Elijah feels his grin spread, dragging Dom into his own trailer and growing more confident by the minute. "I think maybe we can get by without talking, too."
Dom tips his head in challenge, or maybe invitation. "I can be quiet if you can," he says, and shuts up and proves it.