Title: 'Teaching Elijah' 10/11
Author: Cass: GrievousAngel01@a...
Pairing: Elijah Wood/Ian McKellen
Category: First Times
Rating: NC-17 for the whole lot, although it varies
Summary: Elijah wants to learn about life from the master
Disclaimer: Don't know these lovely people, no offence intended or
money made
Feedback: yes, please

This is the fic that has been steadily building on my LJ. It was
always going to be posted on the lists when it was complete, and it's
close enough now for me to start doing so. It's also going to be
archived - hopefully - at www2.expecto-patronum.net/loveforsiirian
Huge thanks go to the folks on LJ for their encouragement, and to
Elanor for her sterling beta work.

Huge thanks for the lovely feedback – it is always much appreciated


TEACHING ELIJAH – 10


With a nod at Viggo, Ian folded into the nearest vacant canvas chair,
just managing to hide a sigh of pure exhaustion.   He pinched the
bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, trying to persuade
his afternoon-long headache to go and bother somebody else.

"Headache, old man?"

"Oh clear off, you middle aged dropout."  Ian looked up and took the
bottle of water Viggo was holding out.  "Thank you.  Now if you just
had some aspirin…  Ah!  A Ranger is always prepared.  Bless you."

As the two men sat quietly, Viggo polishing his ever-present sword,
Ian waiting for the aspirin to do their work, two of the hobbits
appeared in their line of vision.  Both looked up and waved, and one
of them stood for just a moment longer, looking, apparently at both
Ian and Viggo, with such intensity that even Viggo was almost
unnerved.  Just as he was about to say something, the moment passed,
and the hobbits wandered off together, pushing and play fighting.

"Well," Viggo ventured.  "he's an intense little hobbit, isn't he?"

"Who?  Oh, Elijah.  Yes, I suppose he can be."  Ian winced at both
his overly casual tone and the way he had dismissed Elijah as if he
was of no importance.  That was wrong.

"You would know, of course," Viggo continued, still polishing his
sword.  "About his intensity.  More than the rest of us."

"Meaning?"  Ian nipped the bridge of his nose again and glared at
Viggo.  "Oh, do stop waving your blade around, you're not impressing
me."

"I'm not waving it around for your benefit."  Nonetheless, Viggo put
the sword on the ground next to his chair.  "I don't think there
would be any point anyway.  You're more interested in somebody else's
blade."

"Don't be crude."  Ian dropped both hands to his lap and tilted his
head back.

"Well, don't be such a queen.  You don't talk like this in normal
conversation, so who are you trying to impress with this?"

"Nobody.  Nothing.  I apologise, Viggo."  Ian sighed, letting his
head drop forward.  "I really do have the most damnable headache."

Without speaking, Viggo got to his feet and stood behind Ian,
starting to rub at the tense muscles, making Ian grunt his thanks. 
It really was incredibly painful, heading towards a migraine with the
velocity of a speeding train.

"You're the subject of a lot of gossip," Viggo said quietly,
concentrating on easing the tension in Ian's neck.  "Well, rumour,
really."

"What's the difference?"

"Rumour has ground in fact, in my experience.  Is it true?"

"Is what true?"  Ian concentrated on controlling his breathing,
making sure his voice didn't give anything away.

"You and Elijah.  Together.  He certainly looks at you like he could
have you for dinner."

"What is it that you've heard?"  Ian sat back, pushing Viggo's hands
away.  Viggo sat down again, hand trailing over the side of his
chair, fingers tracing the comforting shape of the sword.

"That you spend a lot of time together, that he stays with you
sometimes.  That you're … together."

For a brief moment - which would horrify him when he thought of it
later - Ian was almost tempted to deny it.&nbssp; Oddly enough, what
brought him to his senses was the sound of a scuffle and a high
pitched, much loved giggle.  Glancing up, Ian could feel a smile
beginning to stretch his face as Dominic and Billy dragged a
screaming, near hysterical Elijah towards them, shouting something
about `double tig'.

"He lost," Dominic explained, somewhat breathlessly, forcing Elijah
to his knees in front of Viggo, who looked blandly interested.

"I didn't lose," Elijah said indignantly.  "I can't lose something
that I don't understand.  And anyway, you cheat, you all cheat.  You
all hate me, that's what it is."

"Well, there is that," agreed Billy.  "But you nearly had it this
time, so you lost fair and square."

"So why have you brought him over here?" Viggo asked.  "Although I'm
not sure I really want to know."

Dominic put a casual hand on the back of Elijah's neck, and looked
from Viggo to Elijah and back again. 

"Rules is rules," he said.  "He has to kiss you."  He tightened his
hand when Elijah began to protest, and Elijah subsided into a mass of
giggling denial.

"Me?" Viggo asked.

"If he wants to."  Billy's eyes were a good deal more shrewd than
Dominic's.  He saw a lot more than people realised.  "He's got a
choice, after all."

"William Boyd, are you trying to prove something here?"  Ian put on
his best RP voice.  "It doesn't become you."

"No."  Elijah's voice was slightly muffled as he squirmed away from
Dominic's hand. "The choice is mine, like he said."    With that, he
stood up and planted himself in Viggo's lap, kissing the Ranger
soundly.  Viggo was just pantomiming his disgust when Elijah got up
and landed, more gently, on Ian's knee, kissing him as well, and then
staying for a hug.

"Need to talk to you later," he said, looking up, then he
frowned.  "You all right?"

"Of course I am."  Ian smiled, and not looking away said, "Dominic
Monaghan, if your eyes open any further, they will undoubtedly pop
out.  Bluff, as they say, called."

After a moment's awkward silence, Billy and Dominic gathered Elijah
up and dragged him off, no doubt to confuse him even further with one
of their ridiculous games.

"Oh," Viggo said when the hobbits had vanished. 

"Indeed."

"When they want to know something, they're not exactly subtle, are
they?"

"Young people today."  Ian couldn't seem to form coherent sentences. 
Elijah had acknowledged him.

"He's a force of nature," Viggo said when the silence showed signs of
becoming embarrassing.  "Impossible to resist if he sets his sights
on you, I would imagine."

"You must forgive me, Viggo, but this headache is deadly.  I think I
will succumb and go and lie down for a while."  Ian stood up and took
a step away, before turning back and putting his hand on Viggo's
shoulder.  "Thank you."

Viggo didn't speak.

*

Although Ian was dozing, some distant part of his mind heard the door
open quietly, and he smiled when, a minute later, a gentle kiss was
dropped on his forehead.

"Hi," Elijah said, kneeling by the narrow bed.  "Do you feel like
absolute crap?  Want me to go?"

"Yes, and no," Ian answered, reaching out until his hand was taken
and held against Elijah's lips.

"Can I talk to you, or do you want I should shut up?  I can do quiet."

"I know you can, my darling boy, but no, it's quite all right.  The
headache isn't anywhere near as bad as it was."

"I'm sorry about earlier, with Dom and Billy."  Elijah sounded so
genuinely contrite that Ian forced open his eyes and smiled.  "I know
they were assholes, but they must have suspected something because
they just wouldn't stop asking me stupid questions and making fun of
me.  I know they were just teasing, but it got me thinking..."  He
tailed off and kissed Ian's hand.

"Go on."

"Well, they're together, and everybody knows about it and accepts
it.  Nobody blinks when they kiss each other because it's so natural -
they belong together.  Christ, Ian, I've seen them when they forget
anybody else is in the room and it's the most perfect thing you can
imagine.  Well, I got to thinking - why can't we do that?"

"Because I didn't think you would want to," Ian said. 

"Why?"

"You have a lot to lose if this goes public."

Elijah pulled a face that made him look about twelve, and Ian winced
inwardly.  "I don't mean ... I'm not the type of person who wants to
lead the parade at Gay Pride, y'know?  It's just not me, but I do
want to be able to touch you and kiss you, and I want to be able to
go home with you without having to be smuggled out under a blanket."

"You paint a lovely picture."  Ian pulled his hand free, and stroked
Elijah's cheek.  "Are you sure about this?  No matter how subtle we
are about it, gossip will spread.  Career, Elijah..."

"Don't," Elijah said.  "I'm not leading man material, and I'm not A
list, so once the initial fuss is over I don't think it'll be such a
big thing."  He paused.  "Anyway, it's my life."

Ian sighed, and let his eyes fall closed again.  He put both hands
across his face, the lights behind his eyes beginning to flash
ominously.

"Are you okay?"  Elijah sounded concerned, and Ian nodded.

"Just my old head.  We have to talk about this, but not right now,
all right?  I'm sure you have work to do, and I do think I'm going to
have to go home."  Ian paused.  "Come over later."

"Are you sure?  I don't want to be in the way."

"I want you there."

"Good, I'm glad."  Elijah stood up and kissed Ian's cheek.  "I'll go
tell Pete that you're ill."

*

It was almost 9pm by the time Elijah's car drew up outside Ian's
house, and he was dismayed to see that no lights were on.  He was
just considering leaving when the front door opened and Ian appeared,
and Elijah's heart skipped a beat when he saw just how fragile and –
for the first time – old, Ian seemed. 

With a quick nod to his driver, he jumped out of the car and ran to
the house, putting his arms around Ian in a quick, gentle hug.

"Come on," he said.  "Get inside and get to bed.  You look awful."

"You do say the nicest things."  Ian let his arm fall across Elijah's
shoulders, grateful for the support.  He really did feel most
peculiar.

"You need anything?  Tea or whatever?  Please don't say tea, by the
way `cos you know I can't make it."

"No, I'm fine,  but I would like to go to bed.  I was just waiting
for you to come."

"Well, I'm home now, so let's go."

Remarkably quickly, Ian was settled in bed, the lights dimmed to an
acceptable level, and his aching head and neck firmly supported. 
Elijah, stripped to boxers and t-shirt, sat on the bed next to him.

"You don't have to stay," Ian said.  "I just wanted to see you before
I went to sleep."

"Where else would I be going?" Elijah demanded.  "I'll just sit here
and go through the re-writes for tomorrow.  You get some sleep."

"What about this decision you seem to have made?  Your grand coming
out?"

Elijah snorted.  "It won't be grand, believe me, and I haven't made
it; we've made it.  The fact that we're together has made it."  He
hesitated and then slid down the bed until he was nose to nose with
Ian.  "You don't mind, do you?  You don't think that I'm making a
huge mistake?"

"Whilst part of me worries for you," Ian admitted, "most of me is
immensely proud that you think enough of me to want to do this, and I
do respect your thinking on the level of your outness, if that makes
sense."

"Of course I think enough of you, you silly old sod.  I love you,
don't I."  And it was a statement, not a question.

"Have you thought how you're going to do this life changing thing? 
Have you considered your mother in all this?"  Ian opened his eyes
briefly, before letting them fall closed again.  He rested his head
on Elijah's shoulder, content.  "And by the way, who on earth taught
you to say sod?  Monaghan, I assume."

"I'm not going to do anything – we're not going to do anything, not
really.  We'll just be more open in what we do, if you follow.  I'm
not going to get on a soapbox and announce anything to the world, but
I'm not hiding anymore either.  It's the way I want to do it.  Does
that sound really wimpy to you?  And it was Bloom, actually."  Elijah
sighed quietly. "And yes, I have thought about mom, and she deserves
to be told before anybody else, of course.  I'm not going to lie,
Ian.  I'm going to tell her about us; about you and me, and the fact
that we're together.  But I'm not going to be dramatic about it.  She
prefers it when things are done calmly, anyway."

"It actually sounds very sensible – no point in being dramatic about
it, when that's not what you want."  Ian smiled slightly.  "You
humble me, did you know that?  To know what you want and just to
reach out and take it, and with such confidence."

"It's not just about me, though, is it?"  Elijah kissed Ian's
forehead then raised his hand to rub his thumb between Ian's closed
eyes.  "It's about you."

"Can you possibly imagine that I'm anything less than proud of you? 
And proud that you have come to me, chosen me, when you could have
anybody in the world?  I will stand with you, Elijah, whatever your
decision, you should know that by now."  He paused, enjoying the feel
of Elijah's fingers.  "I have a confession to make," he said finally.

"You?  Go on, then, confess."

Ian sighed.  "Today, Viggo made an indirect comment about us – about
whether we were in a relationship – and I came very close to denying
it."  He opened his eyes again, even though his head was really
pounding.  He needed to see Elijah's face.

"Why?"  Elijah's fingers stopped moving for a second, then started
again, but Ian caught the brief flash of hurt in his eyes.

"Because I didn't know how you would feel about it.  We talk around
things, Elijah, not about them, and I didn't know what to say."

"But you didn't deny me – that's an excellent phrase, by the way –
and the only thing I have to say on this whole subject is this:  I
love you, Ian."  Elijah's fingers stopped moving again and this time
he let his hand drop and pressed his forehead against
Ian's.  "There.  If you want to laugh at me, or if you want to throw
me out of your house, then do it.  But I don't think you will,
because you love me, don't you?"

"Very much, Elijah, very much.  But love isn't all, no matter what
the songs might have you believe."

"Hello?  I'm nearly twenty, not two, I do know that."

"You're months away from twenty, you lying little toad, and I hope
you do."  Ian sighed.  "I'm old enough to be your grandfather,
Elijah, face it."

"So?"  Elijah kissed Ian's forehead, his eyes calm again.  "Why
should I care?"

"People will care.  People who think you deserve someone young and
beautiful on your arm.  Young, beautiful and female."

Elijah made a noise very like a snort, and then sniffed, pulling a
face. 

"That's disgusting.  Remind me not to do that again."  He wiped his
nose.  "Ian, I don't want that – I've got what I want.  You've got
beauty and wisdom – how could I possibly want anything else?"

"You are such a dear, dear boy … no, you are such a dear, dear man,
and I am proud that we've reached this place together."

"Good."  Elijah pulled away from Ian just long enough to climb under
the covers, then pulled him close again.  "You sleep now, yeah?  You
have to conserve your strength at your age."

Ian closed his eyes and let his body relax against Elijah's,
revelling in the warmth. 

"Yes," he agreed, "I do.  You haven't had your final lesson, yet."

Elijah didn't answer, but Ian heard him swallow noisily.