Title: HURT

Authors: Kristina [[email protected]] and Catherine

Pairing: Elijah Wood / Ian McKellen

Rating: A big fat NC 17

Status: Finished, 3/3.

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.

 

 

Part III.

 

The impact of their bodies against the mattress was astonishingly harsh and Ian would have winced from the rough landing had he not been pre-occupied with other things. His cock had stopped aching when he came and now the numb feeling was spreading through his groin. It was a pleasantly numb feeling, post-orgasmic, and a relief from the friction
of their coupling. He realised he was still on top of Elijah when he felt a spine press into his ribs.

His subconscious, more cowardly, self wanted to pull out, get cleaned up and share a nice snuggle with Lij as if nothing had happened, but he stopped himself when he had barely finished the thought.

And that's when he realized: Elijah was crying.

He had never seen Elijah cry like this before, except when his dog had died and then it had really been nothing more than agitated sniffles. Nothing like this.

It felt like Elijah was shaking apart, coughing so hard that it sounded like he was spitting up his lungs.

Not surprisingly that was, although Ian didn't know it, exactly how Elijah felt.

His chest ached as he coughed and hiccupped, spewing out snot and tears with unstoppable force. He felt as if his head was boiling.

He wasn't ashamed that he was crying, simply because no thought existed in his head. Nothing existed but the pain in his chest and the relief which accompanied it.

Had he been thinking, he probably would have worried that his emotional state would come across as ill or repulsive, that it would terrify and trigger stifling mechanisms in whoever witnessed it.

But Ian didn't hush him, or tell him to stop crying or that everything would be all right if he only waited a little longer. Not seeming the least bit terrified, Ian simply held him, ribcage pressed hard against Elijah's back, rubbing his chest in circular patterns.

"There now, let it all rip. That's good."

Ian realised the crying wasn't really crying in the usual sense, more like of a dying fish gasping for breath. He felt Elijah was drowning.

He held the jerking body close, not minding the discomfort of bone jammed against bone. The sound of Elijah's howling and weeping tore at his heart more than any physical discomfort ever could. Yet his relief was so tangible it was making him light headed.

"I'm not going anywhere. Can you feel me inside you? I'm still with you."

He knew it was an exceptionally sentimental thing to say but desperate times called for desperate measures, and he didn't think Elijah would mind clichés in his current state.

"I'm still here." He continued his murmuring of reassurances and heard the violent crying turn into hiccupping sobs. He groaned at the returning ache in his penis and would have pulled out minutes ago were it not for the crumbling mess in his arms.

He found this silent sobbing much more difficult to bear then the desperate howling. Elijah sounded so... hopeless. Still, he knew it was all for the best. He touched his lover soothingly, patiently waiting out the devastated sniffles.

"Cry yourself out." He stroked Elijah's face and got his hand full of snot and tears. Grimacing, he reached for the box of tissues.

"There now. Blow your nose, love." He held out a tissue and exhaled in relief when Elijah took it. He put the box on his hip so it could easily be reached and settled for rubbing Elijah's belly repetitively.

"Let it all out, that's it. Here's another tissue." He kept speaking because he was afraid that the silence would be uncomfortable and because he feared it might be endless. He was partially surprised and partially relieved when Elijah finally spoke.

"Could I get a lozenge?"
"Of course. I'll be right back."

Suddenly realising how his apparent eagerness to leave could be interpreted, he quickly added:

"I'll be back in a minute. I have to pull out anyway. You're quite uncomfortable after a while, you know." He laughed nervously at his own joke but Elijah didn't so much as smile.

When he returned he found Elijah propped up on his side, studying him with tired eyes.

"Are you all right?"
"Huh?"

He was so shocked at Elijah's question that his response wasn't particularly articulate. He mentally kicked himself and flicked on his pop-psychologist engine.

"Why do you need to ask that?"
"Because you didn't have a safe word." Elijah's voice faltered and he started sobbing again.

"Oh baby." Touched beyond words at the selflessness presented, Ian set the glass on the nightstand and climbed into bed. He pulled Elijah close, smiling widely.

"You silly bugger. Of course I'm all right. The important thing is how are you?"

He didn't get a response so he just continued hugging. "It's all right, love, it's all right. S'okay. Just let it go." Slowly the crying eased, and the sobs faded away into the quiet.

"I feel like my heart is breaking."

 

Ian didn't smooth things over. He simply kissed Elijah's shoulder softly.

"It probably is, love. It probably is. It probably broke a long time ago. You just didn't realize it until now."

He held out another tissue. "Here, blow your nose." Elijah did so, and, hiccupping, he tossed the snot-filled tissue to the floor.

"Did I ever tell you about Nigel Hawthorne?" Elijah simply shook his head so Ian continued, fighting hard to sound cheerful.

"He was on stage with Sheila Hancock. His character was required to cry and as you know, that depth of emotion is very difficult to summon. Each night he did it and the experience wiped him out. Then one night, he came to the scene and discovered that once he started crying he just couldn't stop. In the end Sheila said all she could do was break
character and comfort him. Tears are cathartic, wonderfully relieving."

He rubbed down low on Elijah's belly and felt him press into his touch. The skin was hot and nearly drenched in sweat. Elijah's hair clung to his scalp in damp tangles.

"And none of that nonsense about men not crying. That's the most ridiculous load of hoakum going."

Elijah sniffled again.

"So the moral of that story is if you're feeling down, do some BDSM?"
"Well, uh..."
"It's a joke, Ian. Don't sound so scared."
"Right!" Ian giggled, nervously.
"It was a lovely story, Ian. Thanks."

Ian considered this for a moment before he jumped in on the deep end. "Are you all right?"

Elijah reviewed the state of his body and decided he felt abominable. His legs were cramping and he felt sticky and smelly. There was an angry burning sensation down his throat and into his lungs, as if he'd been drinking acid, and his nose was sore from blowing. All the usual after-effects of extensive crying.

"I'll be all right. Yes," he added when he heard Ian draw in a sharp breath, "yes, I'm a lot better."

He felt a tender spot in his mouth and realised he must have bitten the inside of his cheek at some point.

Ian stroked back the sweaty strands from his forehead. "Sleep a while and we'll talk later. Just relax now."

That will never work, Elijah thought and fell asleep the next instant.

***
He woke up to his dog Maurice licking his cheek but the tongue wasn't wet and felt like a human hand. He opened his eyes, already squinting but instead of harsh light found drawn curtains and a single candle burning.

"Ian?"
"Who else?"
"My Lord and Savior?"
"Clever clogs."

The stroking continued as he relaxed back into the pillow, drifting his eyes shut.

"You just took a nap."
"How long?"
"About forty minutes."

"I'm nauseous. No, I'm not going to be sick. Just... post-nap nausea."
"How do you feel? Do you hurt?"
"All over. But not there," he added as he saw the guilty look in Ian's eyes.

Ian continued the stroking, almost reverently. "You'll feel better when you eat something."

"Yeah, I guess so." At this Elijah's belly rumbled and he laughed. "Yeah, apparently I'm hungry."

Ian smiled, happy that there was a need he could fulfill, a task to channel all his affection into.

"I'll go and fix something. I'll be right back."

He returned ten minutes later with a tray, feeling comfortably on top of the situation.

"Sit up, love."
"Against what?"
"Right, just a minute."

He placed the tray on the nightstand and fetched the cushion he had ordered Elijah to retrieve earlier. "Here you go." He saw the glimpse of recognition and misery in Elijah's eyes but didn't comment on it. He simply helped Elijah tuck it between his back and the wall.

"What’d you make?"
Ian made a sweeping motion over the tray with his hand. "Uhm, toast with cheese, butter. Earl Grey with milk and sugar. And uhh...," he fished something from under a towel and gave it to Elijah, "these."

"Gimme those!"
Elijah quickly snatched the packet of Oreos from Ian. 
"Chocolate coated! Mmm."

Ian shrugged apologetically. "Well I thought... Well."
"You thought right."

He realised that he really must have because Elijah seemed to un-tense a bit.

"Here's your tea."
"Aren't you coming back to bed?"

Elijah's puzzled expression had Ian feeling guilty in an instant.

"Of course. Uhm, silly me." He placed the tray over Elijah's legs and climbed in between the covers on the other side. Their bodies were touching from elbow to ankle and he deliberately pressed against Elijah.

"I took the liberty of cutting the cheese."
"It's shit cheese."
"Pardon?"

For a moment Ian was terrified that Elijah was going to flare up in some outburst of anger but the tired look in those blue eyes told him differently.

"You picked the shit cheese. Port Salut. It's aged in cow shit."
"Right. I had forgotten that," Ian offered, purposefully placing a hand on Elijah's belly to resume the petting again.
 
Elijah suddenly grinned, a benign but weary grin. "Don't worry, they wrap them in plastic first."

He looked so alive, so almost as usual, that Ian felt his heart constrict at the sight. He allowed himself to grin back.

"Good thing they do."

He stroked Elijah's cheek briefly before picking up the butter knife. He quickly made himself two buttered toasts with shit cheese and munched as he watched his boyfriend do the same.

The solidity of the bread and the salty fat of the butter and cheese caused Elijah's appetite to stir awake and he ate hungrily. "God, this is good." He sipped on his tea. "Oh yeah."
 
Ten minutes later the cups and saucers were empty and the stomachs were full.

"Feel any better?"
"Uh-huh."

Elijah burrowed into Ian and the look and feel of it was enough to lighten Ian’s spirit.

"Told you so. Nothing lifts the spirit like a solid meal. My mother used to say...."

Elijah let himself slide down on his back and closed his eyes as he listened to Ian's anecdote. In his hand he was clutching his unopened package of Oreos like it was a pack of cigarettes.
 
Five minutes later, after having described the difference between a Northener's dinner and normal ones, Ian looked down to see his lover lying peacefully, as if asleep. He smiled. Things were going just the way he'd hoped.

Ian lifted the tray and pushed it down to the foot of the bed. He scooted close and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend, leaning his own head on a pillow.

"Are you warm enough?" 
"Yeah, I'm hot."
"Shall I open a window? Do you want ice?"

Elijah shook his head swiftly. "No, mother hen, I'm quite all right."

"OK, OK, pardon me for being considerate." Ian pressed his lips against Elijah's neck, thinking again how sweaty the skin was.

Elijah exhaled softly and opened his eyes. "It's very schizophrenic."
"I'm sorry?" Ian's lips were reluctant to leave their spot on Elijah's neck.

"This. You're being so... nice."
"And I shouldn't be?"
"Yes, but you know what I mean. You know..." A deep sigh followed.

Ian slid his thumb over Elijah's navel. "Why would I not be nice to you, love?"
Elijah turned his head to stare at the ceiling. "Because you've broken me."

Ian could hear his heart beat in the silence that followed. He swallowed past the fast forming lump in his throat and blinked furiously.

"Well if I broke you, I have to put you back together again, don't I?"

Elijah didn't say anything. Ian focused all his willpower on keeping his voice steady and not falling to his knees begging Elijah for forgiveness. He turned Elijah’s head towards him and forced himself to meet his gaze.

 

"Love, we have to talk about it."
"I can't believe you did that to me."

He busied himself with Elijah's naval and bit his tongue. "Oh?" he simply said.

"I don't understand how you could treat me like that. I never thought you could."
"Well, we all do what's necessary, Elijah. Even if we don't like it. I'm sure you know that from experience."

Elijah was quiet for a long time before he responded. "Thank you." He said it without joy. "Thank you for doing it. Should we analyze it now?"

Ian smiled softly and took Elijah's limp hand. He wanted to make him feel safe and comfortable to talk about what had happened but he wasn't sure if he was succeeding.

"Well, that's half the therapy, isn't it? If we don't talk about it we might as well have played Go fish all night instead."

Elijah smiled grimly and looked like he was about to have a tooth pulled out. The look of it made Ian's heart sink but then he remembered something.

"We've forgotten!"
He reached over a puzzled Elijah and pulled out the colourful package in triumph. "Chocolate and snogging - the ultimate comforters."

Elijah's smile turned from grim to genuine before fading away completely. "Gimme those."

Ian tore the package open wickedly slow and piled a heap of cookies on Elijah's tummy. "Your treat, love. Eat!" He took one himself.

Elijah hesitated at first then popped one into his mouth, letting the creamy chocolate melt only slightly before crunching into the cream-filled cracker. It did make him feel slightly better.

"You're a biter and not a licker?" Ian queried, with as much affection in his voice that he could muster.

"Today I am." Elijah gave a faint smile. "They're very nice, thanks."

"You look like your best friend just died." Ian squeezed his hand again in what seemed to be a hopeless gesture. "Tell me what you are feeling."

"I feel like I've just been raped." Elijah spoke very carefully, like the words were shards of glass threatening to cut him as they left his mouth. "Yet I know I wasn't. It wasn't real."

Ian squeezed his eyes shut against the threatening tears. 'Stop it!' he chided himself. 'This isn't about you, this has [never] been about you.'

"I feel like I've not been human tonight, not been treated as such anyway. You hurt me so much." Elijah said all this without the least bit of accusation in his voice. "I hated you. I can still feel it."

Ian found that biting his lip made it easier to control himself.

"Do you hate me now?" He couldn't take his eyes off the man who was staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused and glossy.

"Of course not. I just never thought you could be that way with me. You of all people."

"It's called acting, my dear. It's just a trick. Somewhat like the mesmerizing beauty of Imladris. Not real."

Elijah laughed wearily, and it struck Ian that it was the first time he'd seen him laugh in a long time.

"Just think of how evil you got when you chose to become the new Dark Lord. Had me in shivers."

"That's different, that wasn't me."

Elijah's quiet statement felt like a ton of bricks on Ian's chest and again he turned to pain for control.

"So now you know that you don't hate me?"
Elijah turned his head. "I don't hate you," he said solemnly, "but I can still feel it."

He suddenly rolled over to his right, pushing Ian’s hand away as he did so. He reached back to touch it tentatively.  

"I still feel how I hated you, just as I still feel how you degraded me. I feel how you abused me, yet I don't feel abused by you, just as I don't really hate you." He spoke very carefully, trying to get his point across. With a snake nest of emotions to sort out, he knew it was important to force every last one of them out into daylight.

"I can feel the humiliation, but I don't feel humiliated. Do you understand?"

"It's acting." Ian was embarrassed by how thick his voice sounded. Elijah shook his head.

"No, it was different. This was always me at some level. This wasn't about communicating a message to an audience. It was... directing everything inwards. Actually [feeling] everything. I feel how I could rip your heart out. I feel how I could hate myself for what I let you do to me. Yet I know none of it's real. It's very schizophrenic."

He searched for his Oreos and bit into the first one he found. "I'm frightening you, aren't I?"

"No. I feel relieved."

"I don't. Well, yeah, I guess I do. I just feel so odd right now. I know I feel better but I haven't... realised it yet. You know what I mean?"

Ian stroked Elijah's hair which was a bit awkward since he had to reach his arm up.
 
"You're overwhelmed, of course you are. Keep talking."
"Talk about what?"
"How you felt during the session."

"I told you."
"Tell me more. Tell me what went through your head."

Elijah suddenly pulled away, turned on his back again and closed his eyes.

"I've told you I was humiliated, do I have to discuss it in detail?" It must have been a rhetoric question because he soon sighed as if he'd realised the answer.

"All right, if you ask the questions."

It seemed like a reasonable compromise, but it unsettled Ian that it was now his responsibility to bring up unpleasant matters. He decided to start in a safe place.    

"When I corrected you at the door what did you feel?"

Elijah smiled. "I was pissed off. I actually started walking down the
stairs."

"But you came back."
"Yes."
"Why?"

"Because I was turned on. Because I wanted to see where it may lead. To see if there was any pleasure to be found."

"Was there?"

Elijah exhaled sharply and popped another Oreo into his mouth. "Yes."

"And that was the only reason why you decided to go on with the session?"
"At first yes. Then I wanted to prove you wrong. And then..." He drifted off, chewing on the biscuit.

"Then what?"
"And then I thought 'Hey, there's no harm in giving it a try. It might just help.'"

"How did you feel when I kissed you and made you strip?"
"Confused. Angry. Like I wanted to smack you." Elijah turned on his back again, moving the biscuits that were left back in the box. If he was right, he would be needing them later.
 
"You'd never been that way with me before. Never. Even when you've been frantic and desperate and torn my clothes off you haven't been like that. This wasn't about desire or lust, never mind how urgent. No, this was about possession."

He said the last bit with a forceful nod of the head and Ian felt a desperate urge to contradict.

"Only fictitious possession."
"Whatever. It worked."

Ian grasped Elijah's hand again, determined to make his lover stop thinking of himself as passive.

"It worked because [you] chose for it to work."
"I never wanted you to possess me."
"And believe me I don't want to possess you, love. No thanks." Ian smiled as genuinely as he could.

"I liked when you kissed me. It was simple, easy. Straight up sex. I could handle that."

"Could you?"

"I thought I could. But then you changed and pushed me away. You weren't interested in having sex with me anymore. You only wanted to humiliate me, make me do as you said. You wanted me docile and servile."

Ian didn't comment on any of this but simply stroked his hand to offer support. He knew Elijah wasn't talking about him, but about a fantasy fuelled by demons and designed in order to put them to rest.

"I resisted you then and you restrained me." Elijah exhaled sharply like he'd been hit by another attack of grief.

Ian shook his head. "You didn't really resist me. If you had wanted to resist me you would have used your safe word."

Elijah sighed. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, yes. Yeah I could have."

A disquieting thought suddenly struck Ian. He had to know... "Would you have used it if you'd wanted to stop the session?"

Elijah answered instantly, almost angrily. "Yes, of course I would have!" He glared at Ian but softened as he saw through his casual façade.
 
"[That's] what I meant with the schizo remark, that even as I was feeling all of that I knew it wasn't real. I knew that if I got too hurt I could stop it anytime. And I would have."

He squeezed Ian's hand for the first time tonight, gliding into the role of the comforter like a pro. "I do have self esteem you know, I'd never do that to myself."

And that, Ian knew, was the ultimate difference between Elijah and himself at the same age.

"Why didn't you use it? Was it because you weren't, what did you say, hurt enough? I mean, I worried at times..." He trailed off, deciding it was best not to mention those times unless Elijah himself would bring them up.

The response was a simple statement, delivered with as much courage as candour.

"I didn't use it because I wanted to keep going."

Ian snuck his hand into the box and pulled out an Oreo. He'd earned it with these difficult questions he figured. He paused in licking up the cream filling and forged ahead.

"When I made you kneel to suck my penis how did you feel?" He heard Elijah wince and saw his lip curl up in revulsion. It was a while before the determined voice spoke.

"Sick, like I was a worm. A whore. Worthless and priceless at the same time."

"Why did you feel like a whore?"
"Because you used me. You used my mouth. You wanted me on my knees so that I'd know my place. You wanked yourself with me."

He heard Elijah gasp suddenly. "You came in my mouth."

Part of Ian wanted to throw his arms around Elijah and say they didn't have to talk about this anymore, but he didn't. Elijah had chosen this path and the last thing he needed was to be patronized. So Ian rubbed his thumb against Elijah's palm and continued softly.

"And what did you feel like when that happened?"
"Worthless, like a fucking latrine."

And that was when the famous penny dropped. Elijah looked up, a look of wonder of his face.

"Oh My God."
"What?" Ian rubbed Elijah's hand nervously not knowing quite what to expect.
"Oh, my fucking God!"
"What, love?"

"That's what I said it would be like."
Ian raised one eyebrow. "When you accused me of wanting to make you my
latrine?"

Elijah winced visibly. "Jesus, I'm so sorry about that, man, I didn't mean it. I don't..."

"I know love," Ian reassured, worried that Elijah's embarrassment would cause him to stop his current train of thought. "Do go on."

Elijah relaxed into the mattress and took a deep breath. "Before we started, all this time before, I feared I would feel used."

"And?"
"I did. I did feel used... I mean not really... I felt what it would feel like... but anyway, the point is, I felt [exactly] what I'd feared! I feared I would feel used, worthless, weak, taken advantage of, and so I did. I fulfilled my own prophecy."
 
Ian swallowed.

"And what does that tell you?" He realised he sounded like a school teacher and stifled a 'love' in order to not make it worse.

Elijah sighed. "That it's all in my head? But I knew that already."
"You did?"
"Yes!" His face burst into a sudden grin, so unexpected it had Ian's forehead wrinkling up in shock.

"Well, I'm not a fucking idiot you know! What, you thought that doing a little S&M would bring me great realisations and emotional clarity?" Elijah laughed, a small, choked chuckle that warmed him up inside.

"I've [always] known. I just... I just didn't realise how stupid it was."

Ian's brow continued to furrow. "Well, that sounds like a great realisation wouldn't you say?"

Elijah shook his head.

"No, I've known that too! I've always known it's stupid. I just never felt it until know." He turned to look at Ian. "Do you know what I mean? I [felt] it."

Ian couldn't honestly say he knew what Elijah meant but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Elijah kept talking.

"And what do you feel now?"
"Empty. But not in a necessarily bad way. A bit confused perhaps. I don't know what I'm going to do with all... well, this." Elijah motioned vaguely in the air.

"Relieved," he said after a while.
"Huh?"
"I feel relieved."
"Because it's over?"
"Partly. And partly because of what we did tonight."

He turned to look at Ian, saw the obvious next question written all over his face and took it from him with flawless grace.

"In what way do I feel relieved? Well not in the now-I-am-cured-and-can-kneel-without-reservation-way." He shrugged. "I guess I feel relieved that it wasn't as bad as I'd thought. I mean, it was... after a fashion, but I feel like I've..." he trailed off.

"Do go on."

Elijah frowned. "I'm gonna say something horribly clichéd."
"Don't worry about that. You know the best eternal truths are clichés."

He shrugged. "I guess. OK. I feel relieved because I've been through what I've always feared. Not in an actual way, of course. But... I've... I guess in a way I know now what it feels like to be humiliated."

He reached out and traced Ian's jaw with his finger.

"And I know that's nothing sex with you could ever be like." He grinned as Ian's eyes widened and withdrew his hand. "When we're not doing this I mean!" 

He turned his head and stared up in the ceiling.

"I think you're right, what you said about you and Barbara. I do think it works. I don't feel... I'm mean, it's too soon to tell of course, but I think I do feel safer. I don't think I'll be as scared anymore. It's - it's a cliché as I said before, but now that I've experienced what it might be like in a situation like this I don't think I'm as afraid of it anymore. Because... because I know andohfuckthisisstupid but I-" he squeezed his eyes shut to protect himself from embarrassment.

"I know I came out the other end of it. I know I survived. Not that it was a real situation or anything, but I still feel that I made it, you know? I mean the session ended eventually, and when it did I didn't feel like slitting my wrists or becoming your sex slave or something. It was just something that happened that I emerged unscathed from. Of course
that doesn't mean I would feel just as fine if I ever got in to a real situation like this, or that I don't fear being raped, but...but I know I'd still be myself at the end of it. I mean, it's not like I'd become subservient or less than human or something."

He shook his head. "Oh god, am I even making [any] sense?"

Finding a great big lump in his throat, Ian caught Elijah's face and kissed him reverently. "Perfect sense, love. Perfect sense." It was only when he realised he was crushing the poor guy and probably frightening him as well that Ian pulled away.

Elijah shrugged his shoulders, a lot more confident than he was five minutes ago. "I guess I just needed to crumble." 

"Crumble?"
"Yeah I needed to get to that point where I'd experienced the worst of the worst." The words stumbled out and he was not prepared for the surprised look on Ian's face.

"What do you mean the worst of the worst?"
"Oh, it's... it's just a figure of speech," Elijah quickly added. He didn't want Ian to feel guilty. You can't work with guilt, he had learned over the years. Regret yes, but not guilt.
 
"It wasn't enough to just have a taste of the things I feared. I needed to really reach the point of no return."

Ian looked as if he was pondering this. "I see. So tell me, what was the 'worst of the worst' for you? It was when you... when I came?"

Elijah shook his head. "No. That was hard, no doubt about it, but it wasn't the hardest."

Ian was almost afraid to ask but he steeled himself. For Elijah, he told himself. "How did you feel when... uhm, or would you rather jump straight to the crumbling part?" He was sweating now.

Elijah was there to save him. Calmly, coolly he answered in a much stronger voice than Ian had heard in a long time.

"I can take it in stride 'cause it's all interconnected anyway. You just listen... I don't think I've ever felt so desecrated as when you smeared my face. I felt filthy. I'd never been able to think - in my nightmares - what would happen after... you know. Post ejaculation. In my nightmares I just die afterwards, I guess."

Elijah gave a soft sort of chuckle that sounded odd, as if it was laughter he had choked on. "You took me past the point of humiliation, when I- you know, sucked you afterwards. The moment had passed but you were still making me live in it." He wanted to look Ian in the eyes but was too afraid he'd find guilt there.

"Or I mean, [I] was... I was making me. God I want a cigarette." He looked around the bed. "Where'd I put the Oreos? Anyway, so... Well, the funny thing is... and this [is] funny, I guarantee it, the funny thing is that once you'd finished and were moving away from me I felt suddenly discarded."

"Discarded?" Of all the things Ian had heard so far this might have been the worst. Elijah just shrugged. "You know, abandoned."

Yep, definitely the worst. The worst of the worst even. Ian stuttered and he was too far gone to even care. "Wh-wha-why would you feel abandoned? I mean I...I thought you'd be relieved."

Elijah nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh. Yep, I thought so too but you know..." He trailed off again, an annoying habit of his. "It was easier when I was abused by you, or playing abused rather. Once it was over, I felt lonely and awful. I guess the full impact of it hit me then. Anyway," he took a deep breath, "I wanted to die from embarrassment when you walked me to the mirror."

"Why?" Of course Ian had a pretty good idea why but he wanted Elijah to say it.

"I felt owned. You told me I was and I… I saw the evidence and… well, when you wiped me I felt really weird, like I wasn't allowed to do it myself. I had to hand myself over to you."

"And how did that make you feel?" Even as he said it Ian cringed inwardly. God, he sounded like a third rate shrink.

"Pissed off. Horny. Impressed by your act. Lotsa things."    
"Horny?"
"I knew we were only playing a game. I knew I could stop." Elijah realized this wasn't adequate explanation so he continued. "I liked feeling coveted."

"You're always coveted."
"I know that, fool. I'm just trying to explain why I was turned on."

During his tirade he had remembered where he had left his Oreos and he bit into creamy chocolate once more. "I loved it when you touched me. You were lying next to me. I could feel your warmth and your hands... It was the first time I could relax all session."

"I felt that you needed it," Ian admitted quietly. He was surprised at how thick his voice sounded.

Elijah finally had the courage to look Ian in the eyes and saw not guilt but sadness there. "I felt loved, it was great." He rubbed Ian's cheek with the back of his hand. "Don't worry."

He was quiet for a while.

"It only got harder after that. It was a bitch doing those things for you. You were so cold." He shivered as if to prove his point. "I hated being on my knees. When you inspected me - it felt strange, humiliating and flattering at the same time. At one point I thought I'd had it. When you, or your character rather, ordered me... with, you know, the lube, I just couldn't. Well, I'm sure you remember."

He inclined his head towards Ian and, almost without knowing it, grazed a fingernail with his teeth. "It got more confusing after that. Better, and harder as well. I was so turned on, it was nice and yet it wasn't."

"But you didn't crumble then, did you love?" Ian soothingly touched Elijah's arm with his hand. "When exactly was the worst of the worst?"
 
Elijah took another shaky breath and put down the Oreo he had held halfway to his mouth. "When you fucked me. I hated, you know, lying like that and... it didn't hurt - that wasn't it. I...I think I was hurting myself. I said all these horrible things to myself about what a whore I was, and I hated your conceit, and I hated myself for being hard. Part of me wanted you to drop dead and part of me wanted you to fuck me."

He didn't want to drag it on and on so he took a deep breath and got to the point. "To make a long story short; all the confusion and conflicting emotions escalated until the tension finally resulted in a cathartic breakdown, the result of which is the current mental state described above."

He smiled warmly at Ian who was staring back at him as if he'd seen an alien.

"No bullshit. Trust me. I'm an actor - I'm paid to be in tune with my emotions."       

"So...so you're all right then?" Ian asked. It was almost too much to hope for.

"Yeah, pretty much. As I said, I'm not miraculously cured of anything but I feel a lot better."

There was no way that Ian could have imagined the feeling of relief that washed over him. It felt like a reduction in bodyweight. Finally, finally this ordeal could be over. He hardly even heard Elijah's words as he spoke again.

 

"There's something I need you to tell me. Well, there are two things, I guess."

"Anything, Lij, anything." Ian was beaming. Elijah was quiet for a while before he spoke.

"What did you feel when you hit me?"

Ian's heart constricted and he felt as if his air passages had been cut off. He found he couldn't produce a sound.

"I-"
"I'm not asking to make you feel guilty. I'm asking because I need to know. Your act was so convincing. I need to know what was real and what wasn't."

Ian felt as if all control had slipped out of his hands. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally retrieved his tongue from whereever the cat had hidden it.

"Nothing."
"So you didn't enjoy it?" Elijah sounded suspicious. "You seemed to enjoy it - I've got the stains to prove it."

Ian swallowed. "Well I...I enjoyed the sex. I always get off on being with you, just not, maybe... I most certainly didn't enjoy... you know."

"Slapping me?" Elijah asked cheerfully and Ian winced.
"Yes, slapping you. I didn't enjoy that."

"But you enjoyed the session?"  
"In so far as I enjoyed having sex with you, yes I did. But..." He sighed, realisation dawning on him. "I do understand what it is you’re asking and I understand why."

"And?" Elijah was looking at him now. Ian smiled and stroked his cheek.
   
"I don't want to be your master, love. I liked the sex, and in some small way I suppose I enjoyed our dominance game, but [only] as a game. I don't want to master you and I most certainly don't want to humiliate you. I want to make you [happy] Lij, nothing else. It was acting."

Elijah nodded and continued. "You were frightening. It's stupid, I know, but I need to know if there is some part of you... if this lay dormant..."

"We're all possible brutes Elijah, you know that, and I no less so than anyone else. This - was an acting job. If more difficult than playing Richard, then only because of what on stake." Ian smiled as warmly as he could at his boyfriend, seeing the trepidation melt away. "I don't know how to be malevolent, love, but I do know how to pretend to be."

Elijah grinned. "As do I. I still want to ask you, why did you do it?"
"Pardon?"
"Slap me, why did you slap me?"

Ian sighed deeply and then he found that honesty did not evade him. "Because you took the cowardly way out. You didn't want to do as I said - fine, you could have used the safe word. But you didn't. Instead you started arguing while still in character. You didn't have the guts to make a decision. That's why I slapped you. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes," Elijah answered. "I understand. I saw the look in your eyes, and I'm sorry I put you in that position. I don't regret not using the word though. I would have, I told you that, but I'm glad I didn't."

They were quiet for few moments and then Elijah spoke again.

"I saw the look in your eyes when you slapped me, you looked like you were suffering. I said there were two things I want you to tell me."

"Just ask."
"I want you to answer the first question I asked you tonight. How are you?" 
"I'm fine."
"Really? Because I meant what I said, you didn't have a safe word and... Oh, baby, don't cry."

Elijah pulled Ian closer so that he could hold him while patting his shoulder.

"I'm not crying." Ian wiped the single tear from his cheek. "But I'm not afraid to, just so you know!" They both laughed and Ian felt his heart rejuvenating with the sound of it.

"I'm okay. I'm fine." He felt another tear wet his cheek and he realised that it was the truth. They were both fine.

He reached for Elijah's hand and stroked the palm the way he'd first done that day at the Bag End set. "It was tough to see you suffering like that. Yes, I know it wasn't my fault but it was still so hard to be the one to put you through it."

He looked at Elijah's concerned eyes and smiled. "I did do the session for you, that's right, but I promise you I didn't take things further than I wanted to. Wizard's honour."

"That's good then. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you with my shit."

They were quiet for a while, lying side by side, Elijah's hand still caught in Ian's at an odd angle. Finally, Ian spoke.

"What do we do now, that's what I'd like to know."
"Live happily ever after?"
"Clever cl- wait, actually you're right. Let's." They both grinned, and then Ian's inbred practicality took over.

"Maybe we should eat some more?"
"Naw, I'm full."
"Maybe we should shower?"
"I don't want to move, thanks."

He gave Elijah a peculiar look and let go of his hand. "Request granted." He got up before Elijah had a chance to say anything and returned with his paraphernalia only a minute later.

"What's that?"

Ian placed the hand basin on the night stand and held the wash cloth up for Elijah to see. "I thought I'd clean us up."

He saw the trepidation in Elijah's eyes and added, as gently as he could: "This is not to patronize you. Just relax."

He dipped the cloth in the water and rubbed it against Elijah's thigh.

 
"I hope this is warm enough. Let me know if it isn't." Underneath his hand he could feel Elijah's body trembling. "Does this feel good?"

He gently dragged the washcloth all the way from thigh to hip, more soothing the skin than actually cleaning it.

When he carefully swabbed the genitals he felt Elijah's eyes burning into him. He looked up and into them.

"This is like the mirror isn't it?" Ian shook his head.
"No, Elijah. Not at all."
 
***

They lay damp and clean under the comforter some time later.

Elijah was talking, finally relaxed and conversational. An outsider would probably say he was back to his old self, but both Ian and Elijah knew he never would be.

"... and I never thought sex could be such hard work. It's really mind-boggling." Ian nuzzled Elijah's cheek happily and smiled. "Yes, it is, isn't it? Oh, and Elijah?" he murmured and gave a little Gandalf wink. "Next time I'd love for you to fuck me."

Elijah's laughter rang out like bells in the quiet room. "Request granted!"

 

Eventually they let each other go and returned to lying side by side. Night had fallen over London though of course you couldn't tell with the curtains drawn. Ian was feeling increasingly drowsy, the commotion of the evening finally taking its toll.

He pulled the comforter up to his chin and closed his eyes to sleep. The last thing he saw was Elijah staring up at the ceiling.

"Ian?"

He heard small rustling sounds coming from the direction of the night stand, and Elijah extinguished all light with a single breath.

 

Darkness reigned once more.


THE END.