Chapter: 1
Pairing: Ian Mckellen/Sean Bean
Rating: R
Summary: Ian detects a change in Sean's behavior which makes him wonder about their feelings for one another.
Notes: The first installment in what has become an ongoing serial.
The crowd in the commissary was boisterous, and it gave Ian a feeling of intimacy and security at the short lunch table he shared with Elijah, Liv and Viggo. Each table in the large lunch hall was an island of private conversation, the general cacophony drowning out all but the briefest snippets as they traveled from one group to the next. Ian frowned softly at his limp-leafed Caesar salad and put down his fork.
�Mmm,� he murmured from behind his napkin, �I hear a local production of The Importance of Being Earnest is opening in town this weekend.� Elijah, who, whenever Dom was absent, made a concerted effort to take up his role as First To Reply To Anything, dutifully opened his mouth to speak. It wasn�t his vulgar exclamation, however, which rumbled in from somewhere over Ian�s left shoulder � it was Bean�s.
�You�re shitting me!� Ian turned his head to see the big man easing a plate of pasta onto the table and his backside into an adjacent seat. Looking over his glasses and playing the part of stern headmaster, Ian replied dryly,
�No, Mister Bean, I most certainly am not �shitting� you � or anyone else present, for that matter.� Elijah giggled, wide-eyed over the old actor�s willingness to be crude, but the subtle flirtation inherent in Ian�s chosen method of reply was not lost on Liv or Viggo. The King of Gondor and his elf queen exchanged a discreet look of amused understanding. For his part, Ian couldn�t understand what all the fuss was about. After all, he flirted shamelessly with nearly anyone who would sit still long enough, and he had thought it common knowledge that none of his advances was remotely serious. When he had a few vodka sours in his system he said shameful things to Dominic Monaghan that made him hide his face when they were repeated the next day, and how could anyone imagine that he had a real interest in that boy? What on Earth would he even do with that boy? So it was with Sean Bean � no reason for such a fuss. Right?
�Well, Mister Mckellen, I don�t suppose you know that that happens to be my favorite play.� Sean mimicked Ian�s smarmy tone, but he exaggerated it significantly, making Viggo chuckle from across the table. Pushing his glasses back into their standard position and leaning on one forearm, Ian turned in his chair.
�No indeed I did not, and I must say I find it rather surprising.� Sean turned to face him, placing his own arm on the table and staring the older man down. A high-pitched snicker sounded from across the table, though it was hard to say whether Liv or Elijah had produced it.
�Look old man, you might feel obligated to like it because it was written by one of your �people�, but I like it because it�s fucking hilarious and it was the first play I ever went to.� Sean�s eyebrows twitched slightly, as though to say �en garde!� Ian snorted and clutched dramatically at his breast, the pocket of which just happened to contain his cigarettes.
�Sean, you have pierced me to the core,� he moaned, standing gingerly and producing a soft pack of Marlboros. �There�s nothing for it but to go away now and drown my sorrows in tobacco and additives.� With that, Ian made his exit, ducking out the back door and into the smoking yard.
�Thanks a lot.� Leaning back from the table, Elijah crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at Sean. �Now who�s going to pick up the check?�
�It�s the commissary, �Lij,� Viggo chuckled. �There is no check.� Elijah rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly.
�Look, it was a bad joke. It flopped. Don�t rub it in.� Still clutching a napkin, Viggo grinned and put his hands up in surrender.
--
The wind was calm and the sky was overcast, just the way Ian liked them. He enjoyed smoking outside on days like this, and he couldn�t remember a meal he�d had in the last forty years that hadn�t ended with him lighting up a cigarette to help with digestion. The ritual of it relaxed him more than nicotine ever could.
Two technicians chatted quietly a few yards away, casting furtive, awe-filled glances his way every few minutes. Under normal circumstances he would have approached them, purred in his deep, commanding voice,
�Good afternoon, gentlemen!� He might even have pretended that he didn�t have a lighter as a way of making them feel at ease. Ian liked people and he hated the idea of someone being afraid to speak to him when they so obviously wanted to. Chances were that once the technicians had exhausted all possible combinations of �you�, �are�, �so� and �great�, they would have had some very interesting things to say, but the old actor was not in the mood for small talk. Under normal circumstances he would not have turned his back on them and taken the extra fifteen steps over toward the simple stone bench at the center of the yard, but these were not normal circumstances. Dragging deeply on his cigarette, he let his fingertips trail over the smooth slab forming the back of the bench as he looked out toward some indeterminate point on the horizon. He was feeling pensive and he couldn�t decide why. There had been something to Sean�s enthusiasm for verbal combat, his willingness to leap for the jugular, but the significance escaped Ian. It almost reminded him of conversations he had had in his youth, with people he had at the time believed that he greatly admired. It was only later, when he had grown and begun to understand himself, that he realized it had been attraction, not admiration, which had driven him toward those individuals. Fumbling for some way to express feelings he hadn�t even known he�d had, Ian�s younger self had repeatedly worn out his welcome by showing an excess of enthusiasm for contests of wit.
Sighing softly and taking another drag, Ian turned to glance back at the commissary building. The technicians had moved on and been replaced by one surly young woman in black stockings. Suddenly afraid that he might accidentally make eye contact and attract unwanted attention to himself, he diverted his gaze toward the bench beside him. On impulse he decided to see if it was more comfortable than it looked. When he had taken a seat, he leaned back and crossed one leg languidly over the other. It wasn�t so bad, really, and it supported his back well. Laying the hand that held his cigarette on the flat, smooth armrest, Ian decided to take heed of the vague sense of discomfort and stop thinking about Sean for a while. Surely the answer would burble up from his subconscious eventually and there was no need to be grumpy and preoccupied until it did. Just as he was leaning over to stub his cigarette out in the bench�s built-in ashtray, he heard crunchy footfalls on the grass behind him.
�You�re not making goofy small talk with every single person out here,� Sean rumbled as he sat down heavily beside Ian. �What�s wrong?� Before the older man could even register his discomfort or the vague sense of d�j� vu, there was a thick, lazy arm drawn up behind him along the back of the stone bench.
�I thought the Sherlock Holmes act was my bit,� Ian replied wryly, trying to buy himself some time. He shifted in his seat, painfully aware of the warm, broad thigh barely an inch from his. This was not fair at all � the fact that he didn�t intend for his flirting to be taken seriously didn�t mean that he felt no attraction. Of course he did, but there were rules, his rules. How many times did he have to be burned by impossible entanglements with coworkers or awe-struck straight young men who came to their senses halfway into a situation Ian had thought was a relationship?
�More like Sherlock Holmes meets Dear Abby. You know, using your brilliant powers of deduction to figure out what our problems are and then offering the perfect solution with your patented self-deprecating politeness.� Sean grinned as he leaned back, crossing his big arms over his chest. The old man blushed slightly and amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth.
�You�ve noticed.� Returning his left arm to the bench back casually, Sean turned his upper body to face Ian, and, in doing so, bumped the older man�s knee with his. Ian covered his mouth with a long fingered hand, coughing daintily to try and swallow a gasp of pleasure at the unexpected contact.
�Yeah, Ian, I noticed,� Sean purred, sparkling green eyes boring into crisp blue ones. �And when I saw you out here all alone, I wanted to help you the way you always help us� help me. So what�s wrong?� Ian gave Sean a keen, appraising glance, his lashes fluttering lightly as his gaze shifted up and down. The younger man�s demeanor was warm, open, affectionate, and Ian wondered if it wouldn�t be all right to tell him the truth. 'I am disturbingly attracted to you, Sean, and there is something about the way that you�ve been acting which suggests that you might feel the same way.' Shaking his head and forcing a vague smile, the older man raised himself gently into a standing position.
�I�m a bit tired, that�s all.� The skepticism in those shrewd green eyes was not lost on Ian, but he had made his decision. It had been a long time since he had given up on chasing after straight men, even when they thought they were chasing after him. Rising and fitting his large hands into the pockets of washed out jeans, Sean gave a respectful nod.
�It�s good you can go lie down, then, since they put Khazad Dum off �til tomorrow.� Ian nodded wordlessly, tracing a long finger across one delicate eyebrow and trying to look weary. Sean took a step toward him, frowning, his shoulders a bit lower than usual. �Look, Ian� I�m sorry about what I said earlier. I thought about it and I thought maybe it sounded worse than I meant it.� Looking genuinely regretful, the big man watched Ian�s face expectantly. The sincerity in his expression softened the older man, though the whole situation made him more nervous. That had been exactly the sort of thing his younger self would have said, if not the way he would have said it. Exhaling softly, Ian nodded.
�I know, it�s all right. It was rather mild, as those things go, and anyway � I know you didn�t mean it that way.�
�Yeah.� Sean shot a thoughtful, nervous glance toward the commissary building before looking back at him. �I guess people say some awful things. That�s what I was thinking about� I don�t want to be one of those people, Ian.� Ian found himself smiling gently, placing a paternal hand on Sean�s big shoulder.
�I know,� he said, chuckling as he began to feel more at ease. �You should know me well enough by now to realize that if I thought you were I wouldn�t have let you get away with it.� Sean gave a knowing grin and nodded at him.
--
That night Ian gave in to temptation, in the dark, when outside stimulation could no longer save him. Staring into the nothingness, glints of moonlight shimmering on the metal of his desk chair, the red vibrating pulse of the digital numbers on his alarm clock tugging at the edge of his peripheral vision, he let himself consider the possibility of Sean. It made him warm, though he wore only a pair of modest white briefs under the soft sheets. Sean himself was warm and open, quick with a laugh � at Ian�s jokes or his own. There was something about his manner that made it seem that, whatever Ian�s fears might be, nothing really bad could ever happen between them. Something about the way the man responded to life suggested that he could take nearly anything in his stride, and that even if Ian made a horrible fool of himself with an unwanted sexual or romantic advance, Sean would not humiliate him. Of course it would be nearly impossible for something like that not to affect a friendship, and Ian wasn�t seriously considering acting on his feelings, but there was an air of safety about the whole idea that made him feel comfortable, calm. Still, some part of him was achingly aware of the strange impression of responsiveness he�d gotten from Sean.
His thoughts began to drift toward what it would be like if all the ambiguity and uncertainty were washed away. Starting small, he imagined the man sitting close to him on some fantasy couch as they talked or watched television or played cards. Then came a hand on his thigh, a flattering chuckle at one of his classy but marginally dirty jokes. Ian grew warmer still as he imagined a soft kiss growing hungrier, a gentle caress becoming urgent, a firm bulge in those washed out jeans. By the time he got around to gripping that bulge and kneading it in his mind, he was painfully hard and feeling slightly ashamed of himself. Determined to let the fantasy go before he got any ideas he might regret, Ian squirmed onto his side and tried to fall asleep.
--
The first day of Khazad Dum shooting seemed to last forever, with all of the running and leaping and falling. By five o�clock they�d gotten nearly everything they needed, and the cast was dismissed until the next morning when they�d be brought back in for touch-ups. Ian stayed after to quibble with Peter over a few matters of syntax and by the time he found himself de-Gandalfed, there were no other actors in the make-up trailer. Orlando and the hobbits had, no doubt, made for the nearest distributor of alcohol, and everyone else seemed to have made plans. Ian looked forward to a quiet evening by himself after the rigors of the day�s shooting. Once Julie, the make-up assistant, had gone on her way, he made one last pass with a warm face towel before tucking it aside and turning to leave. There, in his path, stood a large, man-sized obstacle called Sean Bean. Out of his wig and beard he looked positively dashing, if only one didn�t look too closely at what he was wearing.
�I had a feeling I might find you here. Peter said you wouldn�t leave him alone about �whence� and �were�.� Wiping a bit of adhesive off of his long thumb, Ian tried to look nonchalant.
�I didn�t spend all of that time at school doing nothing, you know.� Though he himself was not moving, Ian had the distinct impression that the distance between them was shortening, and it was doing so too quickly for his resolve to keep up. Sean continued to approach, and he held his breath, unsure of what his response might be if the unthinkable happened. To both his relief and dismay, though, the big man simply passed him, not quite close enough to touch, and went to lean against the wall a few feet away. He really was exquisitely primal, the way he was always leaning on things. Ian pivoted to face him with more grace than his shortened breath, anxiety, and near-arousal should have allowed.
�So you spent it all with your nose in a book, eh? I thought university was where most people got their first lessons about shirking responsibility� you know, lots of drinking, staying out all night, and sex.� Sean�s low rumble seemed to resonate with every bit of bone and sinew in his body, as though it were attuned to a frequency which was specifically Ian. His chuckled reply was shakier than he was comfortable with.
�Yes, well, there was a lot of that going around. If I had it to do again, I might have a bit less to drink and stay out all night a bit more. Every important thing there is to learn doesn�t come out of a book, and I should have liked to have been sober enough to remember more of it.�
�And the sex?� Sean asked wryly, raising a thick brow. That expression always made Ian quiver, and the fact that he had been nearly quivering to start with didn�t help matters. This was going very poorly, indeed; it wouldn�t be long, the older man knew, before he had a full-fledged erection. That was not something he was particularly excited about having to explain. Ian felt a blush warm his cheeks as he answered, trying to sound more amused than breathless,
�I suppose there could have been more of that as well.� Sean�s sparkling green eyes bored into Ian�s without a hint of amusement, and he didn�t know whether to be hopeful or terrified. Though the younger man�s eyes remained serious and intense, a playfully wry grin teased at the corners of his mouth as he took a step away from the wall, effectively closing the majority of the distance between them.
�I dunno, Ian� you�re such a randy old man. I guess I always just assumed you were a randy young man too.� Sean�s body was as close as it could be without touching him, and Ian could feel the heat radiating from it. There was no ambiguity now; Ian had had years of experience with the subtle, body language-driven flirtation of two people who were unable or unwilling to speak openly of their longing for one another. His cock was fully hard and it told him that none of his higher intentions, his anxiety, his I�ve-been-down-this-road-befores were more important than the lust he felt for the big man standing only inches away. Besides, even if Sean did admire him enough to confuse that feeling with attraction, and even if he would lose interest as soon as his sexual curiosity was satisfied, what would be so horrible about it? Ian wasn�t in love with him, so what sense did it make to deny himself a few furtive moments of bliss with this lusty creature? Sean could definitely be trusted not to go to pieces if the encounter turned out to be something he had no desire to duplicate, and so the older man let the �no�s melt away and embraced the �yes�s whole heartedly. With a strength born of raw need, Ian took two quick steps forward, bringing Sean along with him until the younger man was pressed up against the wall and held there by delicate, slender hips against his own larger ones.
�I was rather timid back then, Sean. I�m not so timid now,� Ian purred, bringing his hands up to feel the solid, round chest in front of him. A husky chuckle and the feeling of thick fingers tangling in his hair met his wicked grin. Sean�s mouth was only inches from his, breathing hot breath across his lips. How he had longed to kiss that mouth since he had first seen it, from across the room, quirked in that alluring, smarmy way. Something about the playfulness of it made promises that, even then, had been distinctly sexual.
�Suck me, fuck me, press me down and tie me to your bed,� he wanted to moan against that mouth, but they were in an unlocked makeup trailer and so he simply kissed it.