1 - Elijah

The studio had a locker room which most of the cast used after a long day enduring make up and, even worse, the greasy stuff they used to simulate dirt. Elijah had hit on a plan, a clever plan, an ingenious plan. It was a walk-over in fact - all he had to do was show up for his shower at the

same time as Ian.

He walked back to his trailer, grinning broadly at his own genius and imagining all sorts of scenarios that would ensue: Ian turning around, seeing Elijah's young, pert body and fucking him right then and there against the smooth tiles of the cubicle; Ian soaping down, oblivious, and Elijah moving on silent feet to stand behind him and rest his hands on his butt. Ian would turn slowly . . .

"Shit!" Elijah tripped over his hobbit feet and had to endure Beanie laughing at him all the rest of the way to his trailer. Once safely inside, he waited and wriggled, constantly being scolded by his Feet guy to "Stop moving, for fuck's sake, Elijah, quit it!" He endured the removal of his wig and ears with less patience than usual and worried at his nails.

Finally. He had timed everything perfectly. His fellow hobbits were still on set, re-shooting close-ups, while John and Orli were currently filming on location. Affecting a little skip, supremely aware that this was to be It, Elijah entered the locker room. He selected his locker, whistling off-key to himself. His own genius quite took his breath away. The problem with the last plan had been its complexity. Genius lies in simplicity - Ian fucking him against the tiles, for example. Flinging a towel round his waist Elijah entered the shower and - froze. No Ian.

He did a double take and blinked furiously but still no Ian. He began to swear. A lot. The door opened, and he whirled round happily, only to see a group of elves, laughing and joking, taking up positions. Elijah soaped up and rinsed quickly, muttering darkly to himself, and got out as quickly as he could. He idled over dressing until the elves - giving him a few puzzled looks - had departed. He paced about, trying to decide what to do. Ian HAD to come here at some point, right? He always needed a shower immediately after getting out of that heavy Gandy the Grey outfit. All he had to do was wait. And wait. A set of dwarves appeared, and Elijah was obliged to shower again or explain why he was loitering in a locker room. Once they had gone and he had dressed for the second time, he decided to return to his trailer and see what the hell Ian was up to. He peeked in, only to discover that Ian had gone.

With a jumping heart he asked Ian's make-up guy, who was combing Gandalf's wig, where Ian was. The man transferred his chewing gum to the other cheek and gave an uninterested shrug. Elijah held onto his polite smile with some difficulty.

"Dunno. Shower probably."

"Fuck!" Swiping up his only other dry towel, Elijah sped back to the locker room, stripped in ten seconds flat and practically leapt into the shower. Sean Astin regarded him with some concern through the steam. Whimpering, Elijah took up his place for his third shower of that evening. "Do you know where Ian is?" he asked with commendable reserve. "Not seen him much." Certainly not enough of him. Not enough of his naked body, not enough of his hard cock . . .

Dom paused in shampooing his scalp to shrug. "Dunno, mate."

Elijah sulkily got dressed.

He had admitted defeat and was on his way towards the car park, grumbling under his breath about the inconsistencies of wizards, when he caught a distant glimpse of Ian heading -- towards the fucking locker room.

Elijah raced off and knocked frantically on Housekeeping's door until it was opened by a slow-moving middle-aged lady whose motto in life was the same as the ents and who counted every towel handed out as though it were made of mithril. "Yes, dearie?"

"I need a towel."

"You've had a towel. Three in fact."

"I need another." She was twice his size, but he had desperation on his side. If he got the drop on her, he could wrestle her to the floor, grab his towel and get out of there.

"WHY do you need another?"

"I just do." He tried his little boy look to disappointingly little effect.

She was consulting lists now. Elijah wriggled in frustration and finally hopped over the barrier, grabbed two fluffy towels and raced off, leaving her making indignant clucking noises in his wake. He sprinted down the path, scattering a party of elves, and flung himself into the locker room.

He stripped in a whirlwind of clothes and shot into the shower, skidding to a halt. Ian was there! As were Viggo and Beanie. Close to tears, Elijah got in line for his fourth shower.

2 – Ian

Ian sat slightly slumped in his makeup chair. He had had his Gandalf makeup and hair prosthetics completely removed, and he badly needed a shower after spending a particularly strenuous day under the grey wizard’s heavy robes in an enclosed set full of unbelievably hot lights. All he wanted now was to feel warm water coursing down his naked body. Correction. All he wanted now was to feel warm water coursing down his naked body as he thrust into Elijah Wood’s naked body, pressed up against the tile wall of the cast shower. Well, he wasn’t going to get THAT, obviously. But was there any harm in wanting just to see the rest of that trim, dizzying little body?

Fuck! he thought for the hundredth time that day. The massage session of the evening before had done nothing to stifle his absurd and growing obsession with his dazzling young colleague. This is even worse than working with Will Smith, he reflected with a rueful smile. In a way, that had been one of the easiest acting jobs in the world. No heavy makeup, just sitting on the set, sipping wine—well, grape juice—and smiling fascinatedly at Will for take after take. But he had never become obsessed with Will, probably because the beautiful young man was so flagrantly straight and so extraordinarily self-assured. Elijah had a slightly ambiguous beauty and reticence that was just enough to deceive him into thinking-- Enough! Time for a shower.

Despite his feelings of guilt over how he had taken advantage of Elijah’s helplessness during that massage, he could not avoid concocting schemes to see the young man alone again, and ideally in some even more intimate way. Naked, in fact. A shared shower was the obvious way. Just a look, a series of looks, but brief glances, really. No ogling, nothing overt. No touching, just scanning . . . discreet scanning. Just savoring the beauty. Yes, just savoring the beauty. That made it seem all so innocent—sort of. He sighed, staring abstractedly into space. A fine plan, except for one thing. Being naked in a shower with a gay man covertly glancing at him—a gay man who had groped him the night before—would almost certainly make Elijah horribly uncomfortable. Surely he would now be on the lookout for any signs of that sort of interest on Ian’s part.

He had been running over the massage episode time and again in his mind. It had taken him hours, in fact, to get to sleep as he stewed in self-recrimination. In retrospect it seemed impossible that Elijah had not sensed his lust and realized that he was taking advantage of the situation to caress the young man’s torso. Afterward Elijah had not left in a huff, but as they sipped their tea, he had seemed quiet and a bit glum. Ian had no right to inflict such feelings on a young cast mate, especially when they would have to work together on such an absurdly long shoot.

Well, this is it, he thought, either I take a shower or I become permanently bonded to this chair with sweat. If I run into Elijah, I’ll just have to . . . oh, fuck! What if I get an erection? All too likely. Maybe this will have to be a cold shower, he chuckled bitterly to himself. He stood up, picked up his towel, and headed for the locker room.

Just as he reached the door, however, he heard an off-key whistling within. Only one person whistled like that—driving the cast and crew mad. Elijah. And he must be alone or someone would undoubtedly be cursing him and telling him to STOP that infernal whistling. Go in? Sneak away? The thought of strolling into the room to find a naked Elijah, all alone, made him suddenly dizzy. No. Not much self-control available for a situation like that. A brief ogle was not worth the potential consequences. He walked quietly outside again. So, what now? He pulled out his cigarettes. For some reason, standing around doing nothing outside a locker room seemed odd, while standing there smoking had a more purposeful look about it. He smoked one, then realized that he did not want to be prominently in Elijah’s vision when he exited the shower room. Ian strolled aimlessly around the tangles of film equipment and pieces of sets. Fine! A dignified Shakespearean actor—and a mighty wizard—reduced to mooning over a pretty boy.

Despite trying to be inconspicuous, he stayed within distant eyesight of the shower door, waiting for Elijah to emerge. Parades of actors he thought were playing minor elves and dwarves came and went. But no Elijah. Ian entertained himself with bitter fantasies about the young man fucking every member of the cast BUT him. Ridiculous. Now he was even getting irrationally jealous over a lad he had a snowball’s chance in hell of having. Maybe he should just get in his car and drive for hours, out into the gorgeous New Zealand scenery. That’s all he needed--to come on set tomorrow having no clue as to the inevitable changes in his dialogue.

FINALLY, there was Elijah, heading back for the trailer that Ian shared with the hobbit-actors. Ian cursed whoever had made that fateful assignment of roommates. Stuck next to this gorgeous, tempting little morsel for months on end. Once Elijah had entered the trailer, Ian headed for the locker room again, though by a rather circuitous route that took him nowhere near the trailer—in case Elijah was just fetching something and would come out any second.

Just as he got near the building, however, the trailer door opened abruptly, and Ian instinctively ducked behind the huge Orthanc miniature—or bigature, as the Weta Workshop crew insisted on calling them. What in the hell!? Elijah heading back for ANOTHER shower? Maybe he WAS shagging someone else in the cast. Who had just gone in? Sean Astin and Dominic Monaghan. Well, plausible. Two attractive men nearer his own age. Sean was married, but on a long and intense shoot, relationships tended to form. Not the RIGHT one, he reflected sadly. Fuck! This was going far beyond reason now. Elijah was most likely straight. He remembered hearing something to that effect in the popular gossip press. The young man probably had some very good reason for showering again . . . after having spent so VERY long showering before. Ian frowned and lit another cigarette.

After an interval spent remembering Elijah’s half-naked body between his thighs the night before and what the soft, flawless skin had felt like under his fingers, he started as Elijah once again exited the locker room. This time he headed for the car park, and Ian breathed a sigh of relief—and not a little regret. So much for covert glimpses of the other half of Elijah naked. Just as well. He stepped on his cigarette when he judged that Elijah was far enough away not to notice him, and continued his interrupted journey to a shower that he now needed more than ever. "Bloody French bedroom farce," he grumbled under his breath. "Bloody irrational hobbits and their endless showers."

As he was undressing, Viggo and Beanie joined him. Well, at least he would have a pleasant view while showering—if not the one he wanted. And those two were mature and confident enough not to be bothered by being ogled by a gay man. They might find it a bit of a compliment, and he might find it a bit distracting from his current thoughts. He moved into the shower room itself and breathed a long sigh of relief as the hot water flowed over his sticky body. Being a wizard wasn’t easy. No wonder Gandalf looked a bit unkempt. Gandalf the Grey, that is. He much preferred the costume and makeup for the White Wizard. Not as heavy. More flattering, too. He was pleased to find that he was thinking about something other than that sweet, sexy little--

He froze. Elijah, he thought numbly. Naked. Startled, he was too late in his attempt to keep his gaze off the young man’s lower torso. He stared for a few seconds, then turned away in confusion. There was nothing he could say. Apologizing would only further embarrass both of them, especially in front of Viggo and Beanieie. Ian simply nodded to the young man briefly as he hurried out. Elijah’s disappointed little frown devastated him. Fine! Now the young man could hardly doubt that his trusted older cast mate was lusting after him. He thought that Elijah might even have been struggling to keep back tears. Ian dressed as quickly as possible and thought dimly as he walked out into the open air, yes, driving somewhere far, far away might help. Even so, he knew those reproachful eyes would haunt him. He would just have to be even more careful in future not to betray any hint as to his feelings for Elijah—even if it meant being thoroughly uncomfortable during the drive home and showering there.