Posted: August 2004
Title: Roast Chicken
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Type: RPS
Characters: Elijah Wood / Sean Bean, Viggo Mortensen
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Warnings: Slightly AU, PWP, Schmoop, attempted humor
Spoilers: TTT Extended
Summary: The story behind Elijah's goofy grin

*****

2000--Roast chicken. Always a mess to eat, it seemed like the caterers brought it in at least once a fortnight. ‘Lij looked up at the sound of raucous laughter, and there was Sean directly in his line of sight, shiny oil smeared all over the lower half of his face and into his beard. Viggo had just slapped him across the back of the head so hard it ended with Sean face-down in his plate of half-eaten poultry. Typical Viggo, always overkilling on the payback. Not that anyone took it badly. Sean's laughing lips and cheeks glistened and his very white, very English teeth practically caught the light. Of course, in ‘Lijah's eyes there was always a halo around the man, even if no one else could see it.

Quickly, the slight young man looked away, turning a bit pink, but not before Sean noticed. And typically, so did Peter.

After the little scene at lunch, ‘Lij had been just putting out his much-needed smoke when a long-fingered hand at the end of a long arm grabbed him and pulled him roughly behind some fake Emyn Muil landscape. "Enjoy this," growled the easily-recognizable voice that made a hot pool of lava gather in his belly. "It's a one-time deal."

"What the fuck.--?" was as much as Elijah managed to squawk before his vest was up and his knickers were down and a dirty blond head was waist level on him; the hottest, deepest, hardest-sucking mouth he'd ever felt went to work on him. Ten strong fingers dug into his ass and kneaded with relish.

"Christ, but you're a sweet little thing, aren't yeh?" was Sean's only comment before his pornographic tongue licked and swirled and his passionate mouth made Elijah's dick disappear. Every bone in the boy's body melted save one, which was well on its way.

Sean pulled his mouth off one more time, long enough to say, "Don't move; don't fall; don't make a sound." The next wave of suction hit like an earthquake. Elijah managed to shake his tiny hips maybe a dozen times in something vaguely resembling thrusts before strings of boy-juice exploded from him. He sagged against the plaster stonework, trembling.

The much larger, stronger, and obviously very aroused man stood as he wiped his mouth with the back of his gauntlet. There were still traces of oil mixed in with a very special white sauce. Suddenly Elijah wondered… "What if Viggo finds out?"

Sean chuckled. "What if?"

"Well, maybe you're not worried, but I don't want to die before I'm even twenty."

The green, still-hungry eyes flicked to Elijah's right. "Put your tackle away, boy. And look over that way."

Oh, Christ. There was Viggo's half-loony grin, not ten yards away. He had his head tilted far to the side like he was trying to line his eyes up vertically. Crazy bastard.

"See… I have his blessing," the Brit smirked. "And now he's gotta take care of me."

Elijah was not sure if he should be pissed about being played with like a toy or relieved he wasn't about to get the shit kicked out of him by somebody's jealous boyfriend. Maybe, just maybe he should ask if he could be included in the next round… Before he could say anything, the two humans had wandered off, Viggo's arm swung casually around Sean's neck, to do god knows what.

Yes, that was the one time something had actually happened on-set, and he would never forget it. Peter had been right to make Fran and Philippa write the little add-on that very night, forcing Elijah to perform it the next day. The ever-present script-revision-under-the-door appeared. When Elijah read through it in Feet, there were embarrassing side effects. He'd had to bring himself off twice before he could go before the camera boner-free.

2003--Lij slouched and squirmed as the theatrical premier of Two Towers Extended went though its opening segues. He watched his own limpid blue eyes light up and widen. What a ridiculous, sly, mouth-stretching, eye-batting beam. "Roast Chicken!" What made it even funnier was that to this day, Astin had no idea what his problem had been about that particular line. Several rows back, a couple of forty-somethings snickered, and ‘Lijah grinned to himself.

*****

THE END

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