Elijah fixes his eyes on the Vancouver city shoreline and tries his best to relax. Tries not to think
of all the empty air under his feet or the white-capped waves thundering against the bridge pylons
far below him. A few more days of shooting and he'll be back at home with Sean. The thought
warms him and he hangs on to it. It is his lifeline.
"Crap." He mutters. "What the fuck's taking them so long?" This stunt was supposed to be a
controlled fall of a hundred feet, meant for taking close-ups of his frightened face, and the winch
had seized up at the last minute. So now he's dangling here, a couple of feet under the bridge
overhang, and the wind's starting to pick up. "Shit, at the rate things are going, I'm going to be
terrified for real, no acting required."
He'd jumped at the chance to do this movie. No friggin' blue-screen work, do-it-yourself stunts -
hell, this shoot was supposed to make a man out of him, to admit him into a select cadre of
risk-takers and adrenaline junkies. The excellent director, plot and screenplay were optional but
very welcome.
The full-body harness is chafing him, and he wriggles a bit to try and settle it. Bad move - the
movement sets him swaying and a gust of wind catches his body and slams him hard against the
concrete. He fights down a surge of panic and tries to stay as still as possible. It's hard - the
wind is freshening, the thin windbreaker is woefully inadequate, and he's starting to shiver with
the cold. Blasts of wind send him toward the pylons again and again, and he raises his legs to
fend them off.
"Hey, Elijah! You okay down there? We're aborting the shoot - the copter cam can't handle the
wind. Half a sec and we'll bring you up, all right?" His director's voice fades and the sound of a
motor cuts in. He sighs with relief and goes limp as the metal braid that is his lifeline starts
inching up and over the abutment above him.
Suddenly, he feels a jerk on the line and he looks up sharply, to see a strand, and then another,
weave a lazy saraband around the thin cable. The cable parts before his horrified eyes and the
blue sky's whirling around him and concrete walls are rushing past him and his world is one vast
scream.
Up and down cease to have any meaning other than that bestowed by fear. He's fragmented,
flung in all directions, and his mind dissolves into chaos. And then the world is right side up again
and he's bobbing on the end of a decelerator cord that has miraculously held fast. He's
nauseous, he urgently needs to pee, and the furious thudding of his heart is all that he can hear.
It seems ages until he's back on the safety of the roadbed, and his rubbery legs can't hold him up
at all. He sinks to the ground, his head cradled against his knees, and allows the tide of apology
and self-recrimination to wash over him unheeded.
~~~~~
It's quiet in the parking lot and there's no one about. Sean looks up at the cloudless sky and
does a little dance out of sheer happiness. After four long weeks, his love is coming home. The
thought sends a flood of joy throughout his body and a corresponding rush of blood straight to his
cock. Hang in there, he tells it affectionately. It won't be long now.
He's on his way to do some last minute food shopping when his mobile rings.
"Sean? Please come home. Come home right now. I need you, Sean."
"Wha...Lijah? You're back? Your flight isn't until this evening - what's happened? Oh my god, are
you okay?" Sean's mind is flying in all directions - he forces himself to concentrate. There's
something different about the beloved voice, a diffidence that's at odds with Elijah's usual
cheerful profanity.
"Nothing's wrong, Seanie. I caught an earlier flight, that's all. Just come home, okay? And Sean?
Don't rush, please. Just come home."
That does it for Sean. He wrenches the car around in an illegal u-turn, ignoring the blare of horns
and obscenities in his wake, and speeds back the way he came. The rush-hour traffic on the way
to Malibu is horrendous, and he's shaking with reaction by the time he pulls up to the house. A
second to catch his breath and he's through the door, braced for the expected Elijah-attack. And -
it doesn't come.
Elijah is standing in the hallway, skin gleaming palely against the paneled walls. He looks
absurdly young - all tousled hair, jeans and bare feet, naked longing simmering in his hot blue
eyes. Then he's in Sean's arms, as if he has teleported there, desire and need and passion in
every line of his trembling body. His fingers weave through his lover's hair and his mouth fastens
on Sean's, hungrily devouring, suckling at the firm lips, his urgent tongue thrusting into his love's
eager heat. He's been stranded in the desert for four long weeks, and Sean is the lush green
oasis of his soul. Only Sean can slake his thirst. Only Sean.
What's left of Sean's rational mind dissolves as he surrenders to his partner's need. Loving Elijah
always does this to him - his universe contracts around this one beloved man - he's lost in the feel
of the slender body beating against his, the clean limey scent of him, the pure sensation of the
soft lips on his skin. They strip the clothes off each other with the ease of long practice, moving
in a sensual dream, never losing the contact of skin on skin.
Elijah's braced against the door, his head thrown back to bare his neck to Sean's heated kisses.
His legs are wrapped tight around Sean's waist, their aching cocks sliding together in urgent
rhythm, waves of bone-melting bliss washing though their bodies. But Elijah wants more. He
needs to blot out the memories of those arid weeks without Sean. He aches to be complete, to
be one with the man he loves.
He fights his orgasm off desperately, and cups his hands around Sean's face as he struggles to
break through the sensual haze.
"Seanie - oh god - I - fuck me now. Now, Sean - please...
His pleas finally get through, and Sean straightens, gasping, his strong body making light of
Elijah's weight. They reach the bedroom, still entwined, and fall onto the bed, already reaching
out for what they need. Lijah doesn't need much preparation - he's already relaxed, open and
eager for Sean. Sean looks down on the beautiful face, on the moist, parted lips and quivering
body and aches with a love so great; he can't begin to describe it in words.
He can't wait any longer. Sean sheathes himself in his lover with one sure thrust and they both
groan at the incredible burst of pleasure that surges through their bodies. They hold still,
frantically fighting for control, almost sobbing with the effort it takes. Finally, Sean starts
moving. Long, slow strokes, then faster, cresting, his hand stroking Elijah's swollen cock in a
matching rhythm.
It's hard upon them now - Elijah's face spasms and his fingers clutch convulsively at Sean's hair
as their bodies shudder with orgasmic force. The powerful climax robs them of thought and
sense of self - they're no longer Sean and Elijah, but two parts of an incredible whole. When at
last the tremors subside, they lie in each other's arms, spent and content.
"Lijah, love, that was absolutely amazing. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven - it was that
intense." Sean drops a loving kiss on the dark head nestled under his chin.
Elijah's body tenses against his and he raises his face to Sean's, sudden tears pooling in eyes
gone dark with emotion. "Don't ever say that, Sean. Don't ever joke about that - I can't stand it!"
What the hell...
"Okay, Lij, I won't." Sean is surprised and disconcerted. "Um, uh, are you hungry? D'you want any
dinner?"
Elijah smiles and nestles back against him. "Nah, I've just had dessert. I think I'll sleep now.
Hold me, Sean, hold me until I sleep. Then you can go have dinner if you want to. All right?"
A frown creases Sean's forehead as he holds Elijah close, listening to the steady breathing
deepen and even out. Something's not right - and he makes a mental note to get to the bottom
of it.
Sean wakes up to the smell of coffee and the morning sun slanting in through the glass doors off
the balcony. He's alone in the big bed, and his heart sinks as he recalls the unease of the night
before. He takes a quick shower and goes in search of Elijah. He isn't in the kitchen or outside
on the deck. Sean shades his eyes against the glare coming off the sea and sees a lonely figure
standing at the water's edge. They understand each other all too well. Elijah needs to be alone.
Sean waits...and worries.
~~~~~
Elijah frowns as he lets himself into the silent house. He's tried to call Sean on the way home,
but the mobile's been turned off. He knows Sean's here now - his car's parked on the drive
outside - and a shiver of apprehension slips coldly up his spine. He glances into the living room
and freezes.
Sean's slumped on the leather couch, his back turned to the door, his head bent over his fisted
hands. Elijah walks slowly around the couch and sinks to his knees before his lover, wrapping the
white-knuckled hands in his own.
"You already know, don't you," he says quietly. "How'd you find out?"
Sean's face is damp with drying tears, graven with lines of tension. "Someone read about it on
the Internet and told me." he replies tonelessly. "He figured that I already knew..."
Elijah brings Sean's hands to his lips, covering them with gentle kisses, willing them to relax.
"They promised me that the media wouldn't get hold of it until after I'd come home. I should've
told you then, but I was selfish - I didn't want to spoil my homecoming; for myself - for you. And
then, this morning, I was just a coward, really."
He gets to his feet and goes to sit beside Sean, holding him in a close embrace. "I guess it would
be useless to tell you that there really was very little danger, wouldn't it." He whispers, stroking
the copper hair tenderly. "I'd just be wasting my breath if I tried to convince you that everything is
fine, that look, I'm here with you, unharmed, and that last night we had the most amazing sex that
I've ever had in my life."
He pushes Sean back against the couch and leans forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss.
"Open your eyes, Sean. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen, okay?" The eyes that are
raised to his are a stormy green in the fading light and the trembling lips twitch in the beginnings
of a smile.
"That's better. First off, I'm sorry that I'm causing you so much pain, and I know this scene will be
repeated again and again throughout our lives. I also know that you can't help feeling the way
you do, because anything bad that ever happens to someone you love will always hurt you twice
as much. That's the kind of person you are, and I love that about you."
He pauses, swallowing hard against tears that threaten to spill over.
"What's harder to accept is that I know this, and I will hurt you anyway, because your heart is big
enough to let me go without protest, to let me do the things I want to do and take the risks I want
to take." Elijah lifts Sean's hand to his lips and kisses it gently. "Who knows, it may get easier
for us both as time goes on, although I wouldn't bet on it."
"What happened in Vancouver made me aware of my mortality in a way that I've never had to face
before. Charmed lives suck---you start to believe you'll live forever and then fate catches up with
you when you least expect it to." He hesitates. " And then I started to think. I spend half my life
traveling; I love driving fast cars, I don't eat healthy---no, let me finish," as Sean makes an
inarticulate sound. "Not a recipe for a long life, I don't think, huh?"
He goes on. "But that's not what I really want to say. You know, it's almost funny. I'm
twenty-three, and at my age, I should be completely self-absorbed. But when all the fuss was over,
when I had calmed down enough to think, I couldn't feel any fear for myself at all. All I could
think of was the pain and heartache it would cost you to lose me, and then naturally, the absolute
agony I would feel if I ever lost You."
Elijah lays a hand on the curve of Sean's cheek and smiles mistily. "Y'see, Love, it all comes down
to you, doesn't it. If there's one thing the experience taught me, it's what ultimately is the most
important thing in my life. And that's my love for you, Sean. You matter more to me than my own
life, and you always will."
Sean's eyes are closed now, and tears squeeze out from under his eyelids and drip down his
cheeks unheeded. His chest feels tight, and it's hard for him to breathe. Chaos runs riot through
his mind, and pain grips his belly and twists. Hard.
How did I ever deserve a love like his? he wonders. I could spend my whole life cherishing him,
taking care of him, loving him---and it will never be enough for me.
Soft lips caress his face, kissing away the tears, licking at the tender curve of his mouth. He feels
the probe of a skillful tongue and his lips part to let it in. Wiry arms wind about his neck, the kiss
deepens, and he loses himself in the glory of it. It loosens the knot under his breastbone, sends
liquid fire racing throughout his body and then he's lying on the couch, with a lovely weight where
he needs it most.
He opens his eyes to the wild blue gaze, shining fiercely with the joy of life and he's so hard it's
almost painful. They undress each other languidly, lips and hands paying tribute to each
uncovered inch of skin. Then their clothes are on the floor and they're moving to music unheard
of and when their orgasms consume them, it's a slow, cresting, mother-of-all waves and a long,
long ride down the other side.
As soon as his legs can support him, Sean pads to the kitchen and returns with a damp towel.
They clean themselves off and dress and Sean pulls Elijah to him with a smile.
"There really is something different about you now, Lij. How'd you get so wise, so young?"
"Had good teachers." Elijah shrugs, his eyes slipping away from Sean's. "Uh - I've got something
else to tell you, and I just know you'll react badly to this."
Sean tenses, and his arms contract painfully around the young man.
Oh my God, what is it now?
Elijah meets his eyes squarely. "I went to see Mom today, and then I met with my lawyers. I've
changed my Will, Sean. I made up my mind to do it this morning." He tries to sound as casual as
possible. "I've taken care of my family, and Mom is still the beneficiary of my life insurance
policies. As for the rest, well, I've set up irrevocable trusts for Ally and Lizzie for which you are the
trustee, and - um - after a few other bequests, uh - well - you get everything else. Residuary
legatee, I believe you're called."
He pauses to steady his voice. "I hope you're okay with this, 'cause it's done and I won't change
my mind. It's not as if I've got a whole lot anyway. It's just - something I had to do." He stops and
looks at Sean anxiously.
Sean struggles to control his tears. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to make sense
of the emotion swamping his senses.
It is relief - relief that the news has nothing to do with Elijah's health and wellbeing and, after a
moment, the realization that after that, nothing else matters. And he tells Elijah so.
Elijah relaxes into his arms with a grateful sigh. "Down by the sea this morning, I was thinking of
New Zealand and the Fellowship, and I remembered. That line in 'Return of the King', you know?
My absolute favorite in all the books..."
"...But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not
for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose
them, so that others may keep them. But you are my heir: all that I had and might have had I
leave to you..."
He feels a shudder run through the arms that hold him and he reaches up to give Sean a
reassuring kiss.
"Sean," he whispers, "All that I am I offer to you. All that I shall be, you hold in your hand --
forever."
END
of all the empty air under his feet or the white-capped waves thundering against the bridge pylons
far below him. A few more days of shooting and he'll be back at home with Sean. The thought
warms him and he hangs on to it. It is his lifeline.
"Crap." He mutters. "What the fuck's taking them so long?" This stunt was supposed to be a
controlled fall of a hundred feet, meant for taking close-ups of his frightened face, and the winch
had seized up at the last minute. So now he's dangling here, a couple of feet under the bridge
overhang, and the wind's starting to pick up. "Shit, at the rate things are going, I'm going to be
terrified for real, no acting required."
He'd jumped at the chance to do this movie. No friggin' blue-screen work, do-it-yourself stunts -
hell, this shoot was supposed to make a man out of him, to admit him into a select cadre of
risk-takers and adrenaline junkies. The excellent director, plot and screenplay were optional but
very welcome.
The full-body harness is chafing him, and he wriggles a bit to try and settle it. Bad move - the
movement sets him swaying and a gust of wind catches his body and slams him hard against the
concrete. He fights down a surge of panic and tries to stay as still as possible. It's hard - the
wind is freshening, the thin windbreaker is woefully inadequate, and he's starting to shiver with
the cold. Blasts of wind send him toward the pylons again and again, and he raises his legs to
fend them off.
"Hey, Elijah! You okay down there? We're aborting the shoot - the copter cam can't handle the
wind. Half a sec and we'll bring you up, all right?" His director's voice fades and the sound of a
motor cuts in. He sighs with relief and goes limp as the metal braid that is his lifeline starts
inching up and over the abutment above him.
Suddenly, he feels a jerk on the line and he looks up sharply, to see a strand, and then another,
weave a lazy saraband around the thin cable. The cable parts before his horrified eyes and the
blue sky's whirling around him and concrete walls are rushing past him and his world is one vast
scream.
Up and down cease to have any meaning other than that bestowed by fear. He's fragmented,
flung in all directions, and his mind dissolves into chaos. And then the world is right side up again
and he's bobbing on the end of a decelerator cord that has miraculously held fast. He's
nauseous, he urgently needs to pee, and the furious thudding of his heart is all that he can hear.
It seems ages until he's back on the safety of the roadbed, and his rubbery legs can't hold him up
at all. He sinks to the ground, his head cradled against his knees, and allows the tide of apology
and self-recrimination to wash over him unheeded.
~~~~~
It's quiet in the parking lot and there's no one about. Sean looks up at the cloudless sky and
does a little dance out of sheer happiness. After four long weeks, his love is coming home. The
thought sends a flood of joy throughout his body and a corresponding rush of blood straight to his
cock. Hang in there, he tells it affectionately. It won't be long now.
He's on his way to do some last minute food shopping when his mobile rings.
"Sean? Please come home. Come home right now. I need you, Sean."
"Wha...Lijah? You're back? Your flight isn't until this evening - what's happened? Oh my god, are
you okay?" Sean's mind is flying in all directions - he forces himself to concentrate. There's
something different about the beloved voice, a diffidence that's at odds with Elijah's usual
cheerful profanity.
"Nothing's wrong, Seanie. I caught an earlier flight, that's all. Just come home, okay? And Sean?
Don't rush, please. Just come home."
That does it for Sean. He wrenches the car around in an illegal u-turn, ignoring the blare of horns
and obscenities in his wake, and speeds back the way he came. The rush-hour traffic on the way
to Malibu is horrendous, and he's shaking with reaction by the time he pulls up to the house. A
second to catch his breath and he's through the door, braced for the expected Elijah-attack. And -
it doesn't come.
Elijah is standing in the hallway, skin gleaming palely against the paneled walls. He looks
absurdly young - all tousled hair, jeans and bare feet, naked longing simmering in his hot blue
eyes. Then he's in Sean's arms, as if he has teleported there, desire and need and passion in
every line of his trembling body. His fingers weave through his lover's hair and his mouth fastens
on Sean's, hungrily devouring, suckling at the firm lips, his urgent tongue thrusting into his love's
eager heat. He's been stranded in the desert for four long weeks, and Sean is the lush green
oasis of his soul. Only Sean can slake his thirst. Only Sean.
What's left of Sean's rational mind dissolves as he surrenders to his partner's need. Loving Elijah
always does this to him - his universe contracts around this one beloved man - he's lost in the feel
of the slender body beating against his, the clean limey scent of him, the pure sensation of the
soft lips on his skin. They strip the clothes off each other with the ease of long practice, moving
in a sensual dream, never losing the contact of skin on skin.
Elijah's braced against the door, his head thrown back to bare his neck to Sean's heated kisses.
His legs are wrapped tight around Sean's waist, their aching cocks sliding together in urgent
rhythm, waves of bone-melting bliss washing though their bodies. But Elijah wants more. He
needs to blot out the memories of those arid weeks without Sean. He aches to be complete, to
be one with the man he loves.
He fights his orgasm off desperately, and cups his hands around Sean's face as he struggles to
break through the sensual haze.
"Seanie - oh god - I - fuck me now. Now, Sean - please...
His pleas finally get through, and Sean straightens, gasping, his strong body making light of
Elijah's weight. They reach the bedroom, still entwined, and fall onto the bed, already reaching
out for what they need. Lijah doesn't need much preparation - he's already relaxed, open and
eager for Sean. Sean looks down on the beautiful face, on the moist, parted lips and quivering
body and aches with a love so great; he can't begin to describe it in words.
He can't wait any longer. Sean sheathes himself in his lover with one sure thrust and they both
groan at the incredible burst of pleasure that surges through their bodies. They hold still,
frantically fighting for control, almost sobbing with the effort it takes. Finally, Sean starts
moving. Long, slow strokes, then faster, cresting, his hand stroking Elijah's swollen cock in a
matching rhythm.
It's hard upon them now - Elijah's face spasms and his fingers clutch convulsively at Sean's hair
as their bodies shudder with orgasmic force. The powerful climax robs them of thought and
sense of self - they're no longer Sean and Elijah, but two parts of an incredible whole. When at
last the tremors subside, they lie in each other's arms, spent and content.
"Lijah, love, that was absolutely amazing. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven - it was that
intense." Sean drops a loving kiss on the dark head nestled under his chin.
Elijah's body tenses against his and he raises his face to Sean's, sudden tears pooling in eyes
gone dark with emotion. "Don't ever say that, Sean. Don't ever joke about that - I can't stand it!"
What the hell...
"Okay, Lij, I won't." Sean is surprised and disconcerted. "Um, uh, are you hungry? D'you want any
dinner?"
Elijah smiles and nestles back against him. "Nah, I've just had dessert. I think I'll sleep now.
Hold me, Sean, hold me until I sleep. Then you can go have dinner if you want to. All right?"
A frown creases Sean's forehead as he holds Elijah close, listening to the steady breathing
deepen and even out. Something's not right - and he makes a mental note to get to the bottom
of it.
Sean wakes up to the smell of coffee and the morning sun slanting in through the glass doors off
the balcony. He's alone in the big bed, and his heart sinks as he recalls the unease of the night
before. He takes a quick shower and goes in search of Elijah. He isn't in the kitchen or outside
on the deck. Sean shades his eyes against the glare coming off the sea and sees a lonely figure
standing at the water's edge. They understand each other all too well. Elijah needs to be alone.
Sean waits...and worries.
~~~~~
Elijah frowns as he lets himself into the silent house. He's tried to call Sean on the way home,
but the mobile's been turned off. He knows Sean's here now - his car's parked on the drive
outside - and a shiver of apprehension slips coldly up his spine. He glances into the living room
and freezes.
Sean's slumped on the leather couch, his back turned to the door, his head bent over his fisted
hands. Elijah walks slowly around the couch and sinks to his knees before his lover, wrapping the
white-knuckled hands in his own.
"You already know, don't you," he says quietly. "How'd you find out?"
Sean's face is damp with drying tears, graven with lines of tension. "Someone read about it on
the Internet and told me." he replies tonelessly. "He figured that I already knew..."
Elijah brings Sean's hands to his lips, covering them with gentle kisses, willing them to relax.
"They promised me that the media wouldn't get hold of it until after I'd come home. I should've
told you then, but I was selfish - I didn't want to spoil my homecoming; for myself - for you. And
then, this morning, I was just a coward, really."
He gets to his feet and goes to sit beside Sean, holding him in a close embrace. "I guess it would
be useless to tell you that there really was very little danger, wouldn't it." He whispers, stroking
the copper hair tenderly. "I'd just be wasting my breath if I tried to convince you that everything is
fine, that look, I'm here with you, unharmed, and that last night we had the most amazing sex that
I've ever had in my life."
He pushes Sean back against the couch and leans forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss.
"Open your eyes, Sean. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen, okay?" The eyes that are
raised to his are a stormy green in the fading light and the trembling lips twitch in the beginnings
of a smile.
"That's better. First off, I'm sorry that I'm causing you so much pain, and I know this scene will be
repeated again and again throughout our lives. I also know that you can't help feeling the way
you do, because anything bad that ever happens to someone you love will always hurt you twice
as much. That's the kind of person you are, and I love that about you."
He pauses, swallowing hard against tears that threaten to spill over.
"What's harder to accept is that I know this, and I will hurt you anyway, because your heart is big
enough to let me go without protest, to let me do the things I want to do and take the risks I want
to take." Elijah lifts Sean's hand to his lips and kisses it gently. "Who knows, it may get easier
for us both as time goes on, although I wouldn't bet on it."
"What happened in Vancouver made me aware of my mortality in a way that I've never had to face
before. Charmed lives suck---you start to believe you'll live forever and then fate catches up with
you when you least expect it to." He hesitates. " And then I started to think. I spend half my life
traveling; I love driving fast cars, I don't eat healthy---no, let me finish," as Sean makes an
inarticulate sound. "Not a recipe for a long life, I don't think, huh?"
He goes on. "But that's not what I really want to say. You know, it's almost funny. I'm
twenty-three, and at my age, I should be completely self-absorbed. But when all the fuss was over,
when I had calmed down enough to think, I couldn't feel any fear for myself at all. All I could
think of was the pain and heartache it would cost you to lose me, and then naturally, the absolute
agony I would feel if I ever lost You."
Elijah lays a hand on the curve of Sean's cheek and smiles mistily. "Y'see, Love, it all comes down
to you, doesn't it. If there's one thing the experience taught me, it's what ultimately is the most
important thing in my life. And that's my love for you, Sean. You matter more to me than my own
life, and you always will."
Sean's eyes are closed now, and tears squeeze out from under his eyelids and drip down his
cheeks unheeded. His chest feels tight, and it's hard for him to breathe. Chaos runs riot through
his mind, and pain grips his belly and twists. Hard.
How did I ever deserve a love like his? he wonders. I could spend my whole life cherishing him,
taking care of him, loving him---and it will never be enough for me.
Soft lips caress his face, kissing away the tears, licking at the tender curve of his mouth. He feels
the probe of a skillful tongue and his lips part to let it in. Wiry arms wind about his neck, the kiss
deepens, and he loses himself in the glory of it. It loosens the knot under his breastbone, sends
liquid fire racing throughout his body and then he's lying on the couch, with a lovely weight where
he needs it most.
He opens his eyes to the wild blue gaze, shining fiercely with the joy of life and he's so hard it's
almost painful. They undress each other languidly, lips and hands paying tribute to each
uncovered inch of skin. Then their clothes are on the floor and they're moving to music unheard
of and when their orgasms consume them, it's a slow, cresting, mother-of-all waves and a long,
long ride down the other side.
As soon as his legs can support him, Sean pads to the kitchen and returns with a damp towel.
They clean themselves off and dress and Sean pulls Elijah to him with a smile.
"There really is something different about you now, Lij. How'd you get so wise, so young?"
"Had good teachers." Elijah shrugs, his eyes slipping away from Sean's. "Uh - I've got something
else to tell you, and I just know you'll react badly to this."
Sean tenses, and his arms contract painfully around the young man.
Oh my God, what is it now?
Elijah meets his eyes squarely. "I went to see Mom today, and then I met with my lawyers. I've
changed my Will, Sean. I made up my mind to do it this morning." He tries to sound as casual as
possible. "I've taken care of my family, and Mom is still the beneficiary of my life insurance
policies. As for the rest, well, I've set up irrevocable trusts for Ally and Lizzie for which you are the
trustee, and - um - after a few other bequests, uh - well - you get everything else. Residuary
legatee, I believe you're called."
He pauses to steady his voice. "I hope you're okay with this, 'cause it's done and I won't change
my mind. It's not as if I've got a whole lot anyway. It's just - something I had to do." He stops and
looks at Sean anxiously.
Sean struggles to control his tears. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to make sense
of the emotion swamping his senses.
It is relief - relief that the news has nothing to do with Elijah's health and wellbeing and, after a
moment, the realization that after that, nothing else matters. And he tells Elijah so.
Elijah relaxes into his arms with a grateful sigh. "Down by the sea this morning, I was thinking of
New Zealand and the Fellowship, and I remembered. That line in 'Return of the King', you know?
My absolute favorite in all the books..."
"...But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not
for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose
them, so that others may keep them. But you are my heir: all that I had and might have had I
leave to you..."
He feels a shudder run through the arms that hold him and he reaches up to give Sean a
reassuring kiss.
"Sean," he whispers, "All that I am I offer to you. All that I shall be, you hold in your hand --
forever."
END
| All That I Have |