Title: Disturbance
Author: Kristina
Pairing: EW/IM
Rating: R for foul language
Status: Finished, 1/1.
Feedback: Sure thing.
Archive: No.
Beta: Nefertiti

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual events are completely incidental.

Summary: Give Elijah what he wants. You’ll sleep better. 

Author’s Notes: I’m supposed to be writing on Chasing Ian and then Nefertiti lures me to write something thoroughly smutty and completely plot-less based on Ian’s leather trousers which he has worn to all the premieres. What do I do? Simpleminded as I am, I take a break in my angst to oblige her. Blame her.  

 

Rrrring.  

The horrible shrill noise of the vintage telephone cut through the quiet of Ian’s bed room. He stirred and growled. In the middle of a promotional campaign with an itinerary from hell this blessed night at home was something he didn’t want compromised in any way. No disturbance, thank you very much. Ian rolled over and pressed the receiver to his ear. Annoying fucking device. "Hmmm?”

“Cocksucker.” It took a moment before the fogginess of his brain had evaporated enough to form a reply. “Who is this?”  

The voice on the other end of the line was hoarse. “Oh God, Ian, it’s your fucking boyfriend. Shut up and fucking suck me.”  

“Ahem,” Ian rubbed his nose with his finger, more awake by the second. “It’s nice to talk to you too, love. But you're rather far away for me to oblige you. And I don’t like that you’re disturbing me.”

“Jesus Christ, I’ll let you sleep in a minute. Just shut up now.” 

“Okay,” Ian added, confused.  

“Fucking speak to me, baby.” 

“Speak to you? Shouldn’t I shut up?” 

He didn’t get a response. Instead Elijah started hissing in his ear. “That’s it, just do it. Yess, lick me. Go on.” 

“Uhm?” Ian reached for the glass of water he kept on the night stand and took a sip. “Do you have something to say, Elijah?” 

“Oh god, you’re fucking sexy in those pants, baby.” 

Ian looked around the room, expecting to find a web cam secretly planted somewhere. “I’m not wearing any trousers, love.” 

“I sssaw the picturesss on the fucking Net, Ian. I’m looking at one right now. God, you were hot in those fucking pants, fucker. Yess, lick me!” 

“What pictures?” Ian scratched his nose again.  

“From the premiere. From tonight.” Elijah sounded annoyed. 

“Ah.” And then it dawned on Ian. “Those pants? The leather trousers?” 

A little hiss of excitement let him know those were the trousers indeed. He smiled, still baffled but understanding what was required of him. 

“So, tell me about them.” He reached his hand under the covers, finding himself hardening already. 

“You’re all tightly wrapped in them, like a Christmas present. So fucking tight. Could see your fucking everything. Shiny. Oh...” 

That was indeed all that Elijah could say at the moment. 

Ian chuckled to himself. “So? What am I doing now?” 

“You’re sucking me? No, wait, ‘m sucking you. So fucking hard and tastes and ohh!” 

Ian let out a long slow breath and dropped his voice to, well, whatever it is Gandalf sounds like when being a horny little devil. “Yes, love, that’s it. I’m in your mouth, love. Suck me. Lick me... there, oh yess! Harder, harder. I’m coming in your mouth, love, suck me.” 

After a mere moment he heard Elijah whimper and gasp on the other end, the sound so familiar that he could almost see the way Elijah's body spasmed. He stroked his own aching penis further as Elijah’s breathing slowed in his ear. He turned onto his back to give himself better access or maybe just to add some realism to his fantasy.  

“Would you fuck me, love?” 

Elijah answered within a heartbeat. “I [am] fucking you, Ian. I'm fucking you long and hard. Your pants make you so goddamn edible I can’t fucking help myself... I’ve torn them off and I’m sliding into you, I'm wet and wild. Jesus, baby, god you’re tight!”  

It was almost shameful how it didn't take very much with Elijah. Ian spasmed and came all over his hand, that poor overworked hand which, besides Elijah, was the only thing allowed within a foot of Ian’s cock since that day on the set four bloody years ago.  

Elijah didn’t even have to ask if Ian came. “God, I love fucking you, baby...Jesus, you were good!” Ian could almost hear the smile on Elijah’s face. “God, I love ya, Ian.” 

“Love you too. Goodnight.” 

“’Night, babe.” 

And there was a click, and an end to their conversation. Ian turned back onto his side and pulled the covers up again. If he knew Elijah as well as he thought his boyfriend would have a smoke, watch some TV and take a nap.  

Ian sighed in contentment, and gratitude towards his stylist, pulling his hand out of his underpants. “Blessed fucking device.” He hung up the telephone receiver and smiled at it. Sniffing his hand, he was asleep within a minute.