Title: HURT
Authors: Kristina [[email protected]] and Catherine
Pairing: Elijah Wood / Ian McKellen
Rating: A big fat NC 17
Status: Finished, 2/3.
Archive: LFSI,
Feedback: Constructive criticism and debate is welcome, complaints about the subject matter are not, read the warnings.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. None of this is true. The authors are not affiliated with the herein mentioned Real Persons in any way. The authors make no money on this. Any similarities with actual incidents are completely incidental.  

Summary: Some people say you should fight fire with fire.

Warnings: BDSM, violent sex, cursing, angst, emotionally!disturbed!Elijah, evil-ish!Ian and pop psychology. Did we cover everything? Oh and dialogue, lots of dialogue. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THIS SQUICKS YOU! 

 Dedicated to Nefertiti who made this story a little less of a mess, and without whose support and stern editing it would still be in the drafts folder. 

 

Part II. 

 

Elijah stared at the door. Should he knock or just go in? Angry with himself, he jerked the door open and shrank back from Ian, dressed as Gandalf, standing practically in the doorway. Before he could say anything Ian was scolding him in a voice that made him shiver. 

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners? It is customary, even among hobbits, to knock on a door before entering." With that Ian pushed him back and slammed the door in his face. 

It took a while before Elijah's dumbfounded mind could catch up with what had just happened That was it. He was half way down the stairs, determined to have no more of this craziness, when a thought made him stop.  

Ian had been rude to him. Very rude to be precise. Elijah realized there was no need for him to put up with that kind of behavior. He was not a boy, he was a grown man. What right did Ian have to treat him like that? He turned around in anger and stomped his way back to the bedroom. He would leave when he had told Ian exactly what he thought of him.  

He grabbed the door handle and had turned it half way when he recalled the look in Ian's eyes. Iron could learn a thing about strength from those eyes. Elijah suddenly felt his cock twitch at the image of Ian all commanding. With a groan he realised just how turned on it made him and he sighed audibly at the way his dick was betraying him. Okay he'd go along with this but [only] because it was erotic, not because he was submitting. 

He raised his fist and tried for a knock half way between obedient and forceful. It came out as stupid. He was still swearing at himself when the door opened and suddenly Ian was gripping his chin, tilting his head up.  

“Come in, my boy." The hand was removed as quickly as it had come and Elijah practically fell inside. Their eyes clashed. 

The smell of sandalwood filled the room and there was an alien atmosphere that made Elijah uncomfortable. 

Ian was standing in the middle of the room, and a small part of Elijah's brain - the part that wasn't feeling cowed - wondered ironically if Ian had actually measured it. Ian gestured with his hand and Elijah stepped forward to see Ian gazing down at him. Bemused, Elijah felt as if he had shrunk to real hobbit size. Then Ian was kissing him, long and deep and he found himself responding. He opened his mouth wider, invited Ian's tongue deeper inside. Just when he was getting to that nicely prickly stage, however, Ian pulled away. He licked his own lips, keeping eye contact with Elijah the whole time. 

"Why are you here, Frodo?" The voice was Gandalf's, but not quite. It seemed

to be lacking something vital, something essential. 

The question unbalanced him. "I .. I don't know - " 

"You are here to satisfy me. Say it." 

He realised with terrifying clarity what was missing from the voice’s usual state. It was lacking kindness. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and took a breath to steady himself. He remembered Ian saying it was vital that he played along, so he decided that he would.  

"I'm here to satisfy you, Gandalf." He put the slightest emphasis on Gandalf and saw Ian's eyebrow quirk up. 

"Splendid, dear boy." 

Then Ian was kissing him again, rubbing his hand up and down his back.  He broke away abruptly but this time Elijah was prepared.  As Ian moved away, Elijah wiped at his lips with his sleeve, thinking two can play at that game.  

He looked up smugly, only to see the flash in Ian's eyes, and suddenly felt less confident. Perhaps he wasn't as much in control as he thought.  

Of its own accord his gaze drifted away and he found himself staring at the floor. He could feel the heat of Ian's glare burning into the top of his head and he shifted uncomfortably. His cock however was straining at his breeches, starting to hurt. 

"Get undressed, hobbit." The voice was cold again, not menacing, but lacking the warmth and indulgence the hobbits loved. 

Elijah's eyes flew to Ian's, there was not a shade of mercy there. Feeling confused and not a little turned on, he pulled off his jerkin and waistcoat. He glanced up at Ian again to see where he should put the clothes, but since no answer was forthcoming and those eyes seemed to be forbidding him to move, he let the clothes fall on the floor. He had just

undone the top button of his breeches when Ian's voice lashed out. 

"Stop there, my boy." Ian cocked his head slightly, his eyes traveling over Elijah's naked torso in obvious appreciation. "Very nice. You have a beautiful body, hobbit. Touch yourself." 

Elijah felt suddenly angry at Ian's conceit and he left his hands at his sides. "Like hell I am," he spat.  

Nothing changed in Ian's eyes but suddenly Elijah was pressed against the wall, one of Ian's hands holding him in place, the other kneading his groin. Elijah groaned and writhed as his cock grew hard despite his discomfort. 

"This part of you doesn't appear to be complaining. Do as you're told." Ian's hand remained in between his legs and Elijah discovered it only moved if he did as Ian told him. He began to rub his own nipples, glaring hell and damnation at Ian all the time. Ian caressed him languorously. 

"Much better, my boy. Circle them. Pinch them. Make yourself feel good. That's it. See how hard they are." He swooped down and suckled hard at his left nipple. Elijah almost screamed at the erotic sensation. He bucked into Ian's hand and mouth, feeling himself teetering towards the edge. A few more seconds and he would come. 

Ian pulled away with abominable timing and Elijah fell forwards, over-balancing. Giving a particularly un-hobbitlike curse, he glared up at Ian. 

"Strip," the Brit said quietly.  

Biting down at another surge of fear, Elijah did as he was told. He was naked now and couldn't help but hunch over slightly.  

It had never been like this between them before. He was never shy or self conscious with Ian. Ian, who was always so tender, so careful to ensure Elijah's comfort. But not today, he realized, not this Ian. This Ian wouldn’t be tender. This Ian wouldn’t put his comfort first. No, the man in front of him would use him for his own pleasures, force him to do unspeakable things, and in the end try to break him.  

The only thing that stood between this man and Elijah's destruction was the word written with a ballpoint pen on Elijah's wrist. 

*** 

"Now," Ian continued, "you are going to kneel and you are going to suck me. There's a pillow there which you may use." 

Without thinking, Elijah retrieved the pillow and let it fall in front of him. But as he stared at it he saw that there was no way he could kneel. It was so demeaning. People who had no self esteem knelt.  

His vision blurred and it was all suddenly too much. "Ian," he said, the words tumbling out almost incoherently, "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I don't want - " 

Ian's hand came down swiftly to cup his face, making him look up. "Either use the safe word or do as you're told." 

He gulped. There wasn't enough oxygen. He panted, feeling Ian's hot hands on his shoulders, pressing down on them.  

But this wasn't Ian. It was Gandalf. It was Gandalf and he was Frodo. And suddenly he realised that whatever would happen tonight wouldn't be Frodo's fault. Frodo was only a little hobbit, he couldn't be expected to resist a supremely powerful wizard. Frodo would do whatever Gandalf told him to, and no one could blame him for it 

He fell to his knees, wincing at the force of the landing. 

"There's a good boy." Gandalf reached down to ruffle his hair and Elijah instinctively pushed into the contact. "Look at me." 

He raised his eyes, all Frodo innocence and trust. 

"Suck me. Slowly." Ian towered over him, his hands on his own hips, looking down his long nose at him. Elijah saw Ian's hands come down and pull up Gandalf's heavy robe. Ian bunched up the material and then spread his legs. 

Elijah stared at the lace-up trousers and with trembling fingers began to undo them. Once the laces were undone, Ian's hand suddenly came down, slapping his hands away. "Use your mouth." 

Elijah's cock jumped at the command. He was so confused - turned on and repelled at the same time. He could see his own erection hard against his belly. He licked his lips nervously and began to tease Ian's cock from its prison. It was tricky but he used his teeth and licked where he could reach. Ian's cock was waiting for him. 

The familiar scent and heaviness eased Elijah's misgivings and he felt some of his tension ease. He tentatively reached out his tongue and licked the shaft hesitantly, bobbing his head slightly to do so. It was strange, doing something he'd done lots of times before but with new emotions running through his blood. 

It had never been like this before, never these circumstances.

Ian's hand patted his head. 

"Good boy. Open your legs, I want to see how hard doing this for me makes you. " 

To Elijah’s surprise he did as he was told without blinking and he identified one of the emotions swimming in his head as humiliation. His instinct was to get up off the floor and leave the room but he didn't move. 

Ian suddenly took hold of himself and pushed the tip of his cock between Elijah's lips, slipping it into his mouth before he had a chance to react. In disgust Elijah felt his own cock hardening even further and he felt like crying.  

It was disgusting.  

He sucked instinctively, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible. 

"Whore," a voice in his head said. 

Ian, however was having none of it. He tapped hard on Elijah's shoulder, right over the bone. "Slowly, I said." He rocked his hips pleasurably. 

Elijah had thought he could get control of the situation, drive Ian wild and get on top again. After all, sucking Ian dry was something he'd done many times before, in other positions, but this time, he knew, was not like any of those other times. This time he wasn’t in control.  

He could feel and hear Ian fucking his mouth, pleasuring himself, yet there was nothing he could do about it. For a fleeting moment, in some distant, rational part of himself Elijah realized that wasn’t true. He could stop it, any time…  

He knew that if this rhythm continued Ian would take forever to climax. He felt a tear almost escaping at the prospect and he cursed himself quietly. He was not to cry. 

It was in that moment, his head full of Ian's taste and unmistakable scent, that intoxicating mixture of musk, salt and the brand of soap he used, that Elijah knew without a doubt that he was fucked, owned and utterly, totally helpless. 

"Very good," Ian said and Elijah felt his hand weave in his hair, pressing gently but firmly. He opened his jaws further and increased the rhythm. 

He could feel Ian's testicles drawing up and he shivered with the knowledge of what that meant. Ian crushed his head closer. "I'm going to come and I want you to swallow it," he said matter-of-factly. 

Elijah had never swallowed Ian's come. He had given him head hundreds of times but had always got around it by working him with his hand at the end or spitting the semen onto the sheets. 

Somewhere above him he heard Ian moan and felt the strong hands release his head. The moment seemed to drag out almost endlessly, and although Elijah instinctively wanted to pull away, he found himself incapable of moving an inch. 

Then the seemingly endless moment ended and for a terrible, horrible moment he thought he was going to bite.  

He felt warm, clammy fluid filling his mouth and he couldn’t swallow it, just couldn’t...

He wanted to open his mouth wider in order to let the excess trickle out but the thought of semen dribbling down his chin disgusted him and he held it in to the point of gagging. 

He felt for a moment like he was going to pass out. 

Then self-preservation kicked in and he grabbed hold of Ian's hips and forced the member down further in order not to spill anything.  Snot and saliva trickled down his chin as he swallowed once, twice and coughed. Whether Ian had spent days without allowing himself to come, or if his panic-ridden mind perceived the small amount to be far greater than it actually was, Elijah didn’t know. 

"Good boy." Ian pulled his cock out and grasped it with one hand, pressed Elijah's head forward with the other. He rubbed the head of the penis over Elijah's cheek and lips, smearing his seed over the pale skin. Elijah flinched in misery. 

"Ah! There's a pretty picture." Ian forced his cock back between Elijah’s lips. "Open your mouth. Lick it clean. Suck it." 

Humiliated, Elijah suckled the now spent penis through hiccupping sobs until every last drop of semen had been drained and Ian was satisfied. 

He suddenly felt abandoned and gulped round a dry throat. The loss of heat and scent was unsettling. He looked up, shifting on his knees to ease the cramping muscles. Ian's spent cock was in his immediate eyeline and he had to adjust his gaze. 

Ian's eyes returned his gaze impassively before travelling down to Elijah's softened cock. He frowned, looked away abruptly, and then returned his gaze. 

"Get up." 

Giddily Elijah got up. His leg muscles hurt and he felt much more exposed like this, away from Ian's warmth. His feelings confused him, shame and resentment and need all rolled up into one. 'I hate you' he wanted to say, but he didn't and he wouldn't have meant it. The emotion must have been visible in his eyes because Ian suddenly looked unsettled, wavering in his resolve for only an instant.  

"Come, my boy." He reached out a hand to touch Elijah's shoulder, letting it glide down to grip his arm. "Come over here." He led Elijah to the mirror next to the poster bed. Elijah looked down, away, but Ian grabbed his chin and forced him to meet his own gaze in the mirror. He let his other hand trace Elijah's cheek before pointing out the still wet traces of semen. "You are mine, see?" Elijah closed his eyes in humiliation, trying to burn the image off his retinas.  

"Walk over to the night stand and hand me a tissue from the drawer." He did so, shakily. Ian took the tissue from him and re-arranged his passive body in front of the mirror. "Yes, mine." Ian met Elijah’s gaze as he carefully wiped away the semen. Elijah shivered with humiliation as he realized he wasn't even allowed to wipe his own face.  

Just when he started wondering how long he was to stand there, Ian led him away. 

"Lie down on the bed, face up." Once Elijah was settled Ian curled up comfortably next to him. Elijah's eyes were burning just as they had when he was Frodo, filming the Grey Havens scene. Ian felt his heart constrict with the sight of it. He stroked Elijah's cheek, telegraphing non-hostile vibes until he felt the tension ease.  

"Open your legs. I'm going to explore your body. I'm going to take my time and you are going to remain passive." Ian let his hand brush all the way from Elijah's hip to his shoulder. "Mine," he said softly, holding Elijah's gaze. 

***

After what seemed like hours, Ian’s caresses suddenly stopped. "Now I am going to fuck you. On your hands and knees."  

The very notion of this made Elijah's skin crawl. "No!" he snarled with a disgusted look on his face and twisted away from Ian, covering his groin with his hand. Ian sighed loudly, as one does at a disobedient pet, and briskly pulled Elijah's hand away.  

"This isn't open to debate. Do as you're told. Do it." 

Elijah sniffled, needing a tissue desperately. Ian's eyes had never left his face, his gaze boring into him, without compassion, without compromise. Feeling as if a hundred people were watching him, Elijah turned over. So exposed, with every part of him on view. For a fleeting moment he recollected the scrutinizing gaze of his classmates as they studied the child star left in their care. 

He squeezed his eyes closed against the tears he knew were coming. He jumped miserably when Ian settled a hand round his hips. 

"Open your legs. I want to see you." 

Elijah found his arms couldn't support him anymore, the muscles shaking as if he'd been lifting too many weights in the gym. He flopped forward onto his elbows, knowing he was even more on show. He could feel Ian reach between his legs to play with his genitals as if they were his to touch as he pleased.  

"You are beautiful. I can see every part of you. Your penis, for instance." He could feel Ian touching him, pumping his softened penis expertly until it began to harden despite his distress. 

"Your balls, succulent and full." Ian stroked the back of them, pinching them a little. "And your anus." 

Elijah sobbed at that, trying to close his legs but was prevented by Ian sliding to kneel between them. 

"Yes, Elijah a part of your body. A very beautiful part that happens to turn me on. I'm going to push inside you soon." 

It was all too much for Elijah. “Fuck you Ian! How dare you? What gives you the right?” 

Ian didn’t answer. "I'm now going to rub some lubricant into your bottom," he said instead, in an almost detached voice. A tear ran down Elijah's cheek and he squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for his weakness. He was not eight years old anymore and he was not going to cry. The lubricant was cold against his flesh and he jerked involuntarily. Then a blunt digit pressed mercilessly inside and he clamped instinctively against the invasion. Ian pressed on until his finger sank in up to the first knuckle. 

"I'm going to insert another finger," he said in the same measured tone. "Keep completely still and be quiet. You have to relax, Elijah, otherwise it will continue to hurt." 

Again Elijah glanced at his wrist, at the word that was already fading through chafing and sweat - just as his control was fading. He tensed even more. 

"We can take all night if we have to Elijah. You are going to do this." Ian sounded certain, almost smug, and it made Elijah furious. As if reading his mind, Ian added quietly, "It's about trust, Elijah. Trust me." 

His gentleness worked where force had not. It took an enormous act of will to deliberately relax, but Elijah did it, without knowing why.  

Ian moved his finger in and out before pushing another lubed-up digit inside. As Elijah felt a third finger invade his body he bit his lip to be quiet, as he’d been ordered to be. He'd always been a good boy, obedient, well-behaved and easy to deal with. Hell, Ian himself had gone on record saying so. He clenched involuntarily at the memory, as his body responded to his mind's unwelcome ponderings. 

Behind him he could hear Ian sighing. "Why are you making this so hard on yourself, hmmm? I don't understand you." He kept moving the three fingers in and out until Elijah was open and passive. 

"Beautiful. You are so sexy and beautiful, Elijah. Very nice. You have a lovely bottom. I want you to know that." He twisted his fingers and Elijah moaned at the sudden pleasure that seemed to rush all over his body. The next instant the fingers were pulled from him. He felt the mattress shift and looked up to find Ian sitting near his head. He stared down at the mattress, too embarrassed to meet Ian's eyes. 

"Sit up." Ian's voice was surprisingly soft and he pushed on Elijah's shoulder. Elijah leaned back, relief flooding through him, convinced for a moment that Ian was going to stop. Then he saw the uncompromising glint in Ian's eyes and the knowledge was like a dagger in his guts. 

"You're going to lubricate my cock." Ian said matter-of-factly and held out the bottle of Liquid Silk. 

Elijah didn't move. 

The arrogance of the words and the conceited manner in which they were said infuriated him. He'd had just about enough of Ian and his ways for tonight. He shook his head forcefully. 

"No."

"I beg your pardon?" Ian asked in a mild tone of voice that reminded Elijah of a gloved fist. 

"I won't do it." 

Elijah's rage turned to nervousness as he saw Ian set down the lubricant and take a deep breath. 

"I will say this only once: you are to do exactly as I say without delay and you will not offer resistance. Understood?" 

Elijah shook his head. "Fuck you! You're all the same! You go to hell!" He thought he saw a flash of hurt in those beautiful eyes but there was no time to react before Ian grabbed his hair with one hand and brought the other down hard on Elijah's cheek. 

It was more shock than hurt that made him gasp, although it would be a lie to say that it didn't hurt. He gasped and stared at Ian with what he later understood was the most pathetic betrayed look he could have mustered. Ian looked tortured, and when his eyes met Elijah's they were full of anguish. 

"Now, you listen to me." Elijah was hunched over, sniffling, tears disgustingly spilling over his cheeks. He heard Ian speak in a quiet and strained tone. 

"I don't understand why you are fighting but I can assure you that you only hurt yourself. If I was unclear before then let me correct my mistake." He tipped Elijah's chin up and squeezed it hard, preventing escape. 

"You are mine. You are mine for now and for eternity. You are here to serve my needs, to be what I allow you to be, and I will take full advantage of that fact. I will do with you as I see fit and you don't have a say. If you continue to resist I assure you you will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?" 

But Elijah didn't respond. He sat quietly, eyes closed, as if mentally reviewing the situation. When he finally met Ian's gaze his eyes were glazed over. 

Ian reached for the bottle again and held it up for Elijah to see. As Elijah quietly took it, Ian took his hand and held it still. Expecting more pain, Elijah was puzzled at the sudden tenderness. He just stared as Ian tipped the hand over slightly, exposing the faded writing on the wrist and caressing it lightly with his thumb.  

Ian suddenly let go, pushing Elijah back to sit on his heels, then he rose, leaving his erect cock in Elijah's eyeline. 

"Do it."  Elijah's arms had turned to water and he was shaking all over as he unscrewed the cork. The cream was cold on his fingers and he shakily warmed it between his hands. 

"Do it carefully." Ian's voice was hoarse with what sounded like anguish and Elijah wrapped a sticky hand around his penis, noticing with surprise that it had gone almost completely soft. He was torn between wanting to get it over with and wanting to stall what he knew was coming.  He kept rubbing on more lubricant, making his hands slippery with superfluous lotion. 

He wanted to send his thoughts away, far away from this humiliation, but the feel of Ian's cock was such a tangible sensation that he couldn't escape it. He shivered unintentionally as he remembered what it had done to him earlier, what [Ian] had done. He bit his lip nervously. 

"Can you taste me, my boy?" It was said in a wizard rumble but Elijah knew without a doubt that it was Ian beneath his fingers. He nodded. 

"I didn't hear you."  

He let out a shaky breath, bordering on sob, and answered. "Yes." 

"That's enough, Elijah." He removed his hand and sat back on his heels, folding the slippery hands together in his lap, and waited for Ian to instruct him further. Ian moved closer, placing a hand on the back of Elijah's head. "Kiss it." 

This time Elijah didn't resist, but he didn't participate either. Instead he remained passive, letting Ian pull him forwards until his lips could touch the reviving member. He pressed them against the salty skin, half expecting to be repelled, but found himself calmed by the familiarity of it. He reached out the tip of his tongue and caressed the slick texture. 

"There now, that's enough." He could hear Ian speak above him and he pulled back, half in relief, half in disappointment. 

"Very good. Hands and knees again." Elijah didn't protest but it was with a sinking heart that he turned around, leaning forward slightly. "All the way down," Ian responded harshly and pushed Elijah forward until he practically fell down on his elbows. 

Again, he tried to squeeze his legs shut but Ian prevented it by simply grabbing his thighs and yanking his legs apart. Elijah resented the effortlessness with which Ian slid three fingers into him.  

"Good boy. Spread your legs wider." Elijah cringed but did as he was told. He could already feel the slick tip of Ian's cock rubbing against his entrance. 

"Now to answer your previous question: I dare to do this because I love you, and what right I have I think you know best yourself." 

With that, he started sliding inside, carefully and torturously slowly. Elijah gasped and bit his lip to keep from crying out. He would not give Ian the satisfaction. He could feel the gradual possession, how the member slid in a fraction of an inch at a time, and somehow that made it even more terrible. He wanted this over with or not at all. 

"Mmm. I want you to know how good you are making me feel. What a beautiful, beautiful body." Elijah could hear Ian's voice becoming slightly more strained as the pleasure he received from Elijah's body started to affect him. Elijah himself was also being affected, suffering the rush of heat and arousal. It terrified him. 

Ian pulled back slightly and wickedly pushed against Elijah's prostate. He felt the tremors it caused but Elijah remained quiet. 

"This feels good doesn't it? No? How about this then?" He snaked a hand around Elijah to wrap around his swelling cock.  "Judging by the state of this I'd say you are enjoying this immensely." He chuckled, and it was too much for Elijah. 

"Fuck you," he spat, and to his relief it sounded just as angry as he felt.  

"Why are you still fighting? Didn't I specifically tell you not to fight me anymore? Or do I need to administer another slap?" He said the last bit in a raised voice and punctuated his anger by pulling out to the tip of his cock and swiftly thrusting in again. Elijah yelled out and jerked forward slightly as if trying to get away but realizing the futility of the effort. 

"Oh? You liked that, didn't you? Well I'll be damned." Ian repeated the procedure and grasped Elijah's hips firmly.  

Elijah shook his head and tried to lie still. "No!" But it was hard to stand his ground when everything was such a mess of conflicting emotions, of trying to lie still, trying to resist, and trying to push back into the touch. 

"Please stop." Elijah cursed himself the second he had uttered the plea. "You fucking stop, right now!" Tears started to fall as Ian, panting, grabbed his other hip and pulled him closer. "Please stop."  

"You want me to stop? Well, that's too bad because I'm…. going to fuck…your… brains out if it's the last thing I do."  

By the time Ian was nearing his climax, Elijah was incoherently rambling ‘fuck you’ and ‘please' and every curse in the English language. 

"Go-od!!" 

"No, just... just your boyfriend. And I'm going to come inside you now." 

Elijah tried again to pull away, cursing ferociously, a dozen throw off remarks that Ian knew were not meant for him.  

"I hate you." It was practically whispered.  

"I know, sweetie," and with that Ian came.  

Elijah felt the gush of fluid inside him and it was all it took for him to lose the battle of emotions and squirt all over Ian's hand. He fell forward with Ian still inside him, crying violently as if he had never cried before. 

"Whore," the voice said.