Five years, Sean thought as he drove just a little too fast through the winding green walls
of the quiet Canyon neighborhood. Holy shit.
He had always had a thing about anniversaries - you are the count; you always count, a
laughing voice broke in, and he grinned at the memory. But those he had acquired over
the last half-decade were especially important to him, not only for being hard-won but
also because he derived immeasurable pleasure and a sense of stability from the
assumption that there would be another one next year, and the year after that, and so it
would go, his world without end. Elijah was of a different mind, though. Not that their
anniversaries were any less precious to him, but he had always had the happy knack of
living in the moment, and he hadn’t changed. “You are here,” he had said simply when
Sean agonized over filming schedules with a view toward being on hand for special days.
“Wherever you have been, wherever you will be, you are here.”
All at once the strain of his seven-hour flight diminished to a bearable ache and the
passing scenery seemed to take on a brighter hue. The air smelled fresher, cleaner, even
as he forced it around the sudden tightness in his chest; a lump made up, he supposed,
of an excess of happiness that had to collect somewhere – so why not right underneath
his heart?
As he turned into their driveway, a sudden impulse struck him and he rolled his eyes
upward. “Thank you,” he breathed, the small prayer no less fervent for the heat of
embarrassment that immediately warmed his face. Still. One had to give thanks where
thanks were due, because lousy weather had played havoc with his filming schedule, and
he was very lucky to be here at all. Hence the litany of gratitude.
Thank you. For an understanding cast, for an excellent AD, for having the foresight to
leave the car in the long-term lot, because the airport was so jammed, there weren't any
cabs to be had. Thank you for Him, Lord. Most of all.
He drummed his fingers on the wheel as the garage doors slid slowly open. Elijah wasn’t
filming at the moment, but he’d been away east to some music festival, then he had
stopped by Viggo’s Idaho ranch the day before, and… He released the breath he hadn’t
realized he’d been holding as the mini cooper was revealed, parked in its accustomed
spot and smiled as he eased to a stop beside it. When they were both in LA, eight times
out of ten, Elijah beat him home. He claimed that he just liked to see the pole-axed look
on Sean’s face when he opened the door and Sean had countered with the injudicious
remark that Elijah was turning out to be a good little... Heh.
Don’t say it, Sean, Elijah had warned.
Ooops. My mistake, Sean had been recklessly unrepentant. You’re barefoot and I’m
working on getting you naked, but you’d probably set the kitchen on fire if I shut you up in
it and it would take a miracle from God himself to make you a mama.
Sean still wondered what demon of stupidity had possessed him then. He could so easily
have hurt his love's pride irreparably, and all for the sake of a good punchline. As it was,
he had ended up on the hallway floor with his head in an armlock, and Elijah had
proceeded to prove to both their satisfactions that he definitely was not ‘good little wife’
material in any way, shape or form. First among equals was more like it. Sean felt a
certain part of his anatomy clench at the memory and came back to the present with a
start. He shook his head ruefully as he killed the engine and unloaded his bags. Having
Elijah in his head was very nice, but holding that strong, slim body in his arms was a
thousand times better, and he was wasting precious time.
Five minutes later, he was standing in the foyer, feeling oddly bereft. A perfunctory peck
on the cheek and a quick hug did not a welcome make – not in his book, anyway. The
greeting had a flavor of avoidance about it, and he wondered uneasily where things had
gone wrong. True – he didn’t always appreciate being on the receiving end of the
patented Elijah Wood tackle, not when he was tired and a bit – eh – fragrant, but he
fucking wanted... something.
Elijah gave him a beaming smile and went toward the stairs, Sean’s carry-all in one
hand. “Pizza tonight,” he said over his shoulder. “Com’on up and get changed.”
Sean turned to set his laptop on the hall table, and as it always did, an after-image
stayed behind his eyelids, like the flashes of light that obscured his vision if he looked too
long at the sun. The image of a slight man dressed in loose linen trousers under an old
dress shirt, dark hair curling softly on smooth temples and fingertips just showing below
too-long sleeves. He saw the stretch of thin cloth and the play of skin beneath it, the
wicked glint in the sapphire eyes – and his brows rose in hopeful speculation.
“Hurry up!” Elijah’s voice floated down from their bedroom. “And grab a shower – you
stink of airplane air!”
Sean grinned and bounded up the stairs.
Hot water, turned to the highest massage setting, drummed against his skin, relaxing
tight muscles and lulling him into reverie. He ran lazily over his plans for the next day; the
florist would deliver flowers – ostensibly for the table, but Elijah would know better, and
Sean thought he wouldn’t mind. Then dinner by candlelight, prepared by his own two
hands. Lots of loving before, during and after; that went without saying. Perhaps a jaunt
or two to visit friends and family...
His gift to Elijah lay hidden deep under the bed in the spare bedroom, a photograph he
had taken during a picnic the summer past. In it, Elijah sat with his back against a tree
with Bella asleep in his arms. He had been telling the girls a story, and Lizzie lay on the
blanket with her head pillowed on his thigh, while Aly leaned against his shoulder, a
sleepy smile on her face. They hadn’t even noticed that he had sneaked away, and Sean
blessed the absorbing qualities of a New Zealand tale and the excellence of the latest in
telephoto lenses for the memory he had captured. Enlarged, matted and framed, it
made a beautiful keepsake.
He wondered briefly what Elijah had planned for him, but the half-formed thought slid
away with the soap that washed down his body. He knew that he would love whatever
Elijah gave him. They could buy each other all the latest toys for birthdays and holidays,
but they kept their anniversary presents down to simple things they did for each other. In
Sean’s view, they were the best gifts of all.
“What’s his majesty up to these days?” he called through the half-open door as he
toweled himself dry. Elijah said something indistinguishable in reply and he shrugged on
his robe and entered the bedroom. It seemed empty at first glance and he looked toward
the closed door, puzzled - then something moved at the periphery of his vision, and he
snapped his head back, his eyes widening.
Late afternoon sunlight poured through the open window, filtered through the branches of
the young oak that sheltered their western wall. It dripped like honey across the polished
floor and lit the room with a strange, shimmering glow. A figure flickered through the
green-golden light and he blinked in astonishment. A rational part of Sean’s mind
realized why it had been so easy to miss seeing Elijah – he must have been shrouded in
the deep shadow beside the window – and the rest of him gibbered in wonder and
fascination at the picture his partner made.
Elijah looked like a creature straight out of a woodland fantasy; a sprite, a dryad come
down from his tree. The shifting sunbeams behind him flared out like filmy wings and
swirling patterns covered his naked skin; from the base of his neck, winding round his
arms and down to his ankles, colors ranging from a rich red-brown to the palest café-au-
lait. They seemed to writhe across his body as he walked forward, a tentative smile on
his face.
Sean swallowed hard. “My God,” he whispered. “I’ve got an afternoon with a faun.”
“Minus the horns and the hairy legs,” Elijah giggled. “They aren’t tattoos, by the way.”
Sean gave him a you’ve gotta be kidding look. “Considering the fuss you made over the
tiny one on your hip? I didn’t think they were.” His eyes dropped, irresistibly drawn to the
pale body before him, and his dazed brain made a lightning connection. “You and Viggo
planned this, didn’t you.”
“Not really. I didn’t know what I wanted, apart from the possibility of some edible body
paint,” Elijah made a small sound of approval as Sean traced a particularly graceful
frond around his nipple with a light finger, “But Vigs had – ahhh - better idea.”
“What did he use?” Sean dropped slowly to his knees, his hands tracing his progress
down Elijah’s body. Apart from his lover’s head, neck, hands and feet and a band of
bare skin around his groin, leaf and fern designs brocaded every inch of him, interspersed
with scrollwork of graduated color, all in different hues of russet-brown.
“Henna paste.” Elijah’s skin shivered under Sean’s mouth as his lover explored the fern-
brake on the inside of his thigh and his cock twitched. “Shit, Sean. Ahhh, Vigs used one
of those icing bags with different sized nozzles. Like he was decorating a fucking cake.”
“Angel’s Food, yeah,” Sean transferred his attentions to the other thigh. “Doesn’t look like
any mehndi I’ve ever seen, though.”
Elijah’s back tensed and arched as Sean nibbled at a particularly sensitive spot. “You
know Viggo – he’s got to improve on everything. Do you – “ He took a sobbing breath, “Do
you like my anniversary gift, Seanie?”
Sean got to his feet and cupped Elijah’s face. “You are the most gorgeous thing God ever
made,” he said huskily. “And I like it fine.” The kiss that followed then was tender, and
held all the reverence Sean felt for the fey creature in his arms – then it deepened in
intensity, and when they finally broke for air, they were flushed, panting and heavy-eyed.
Sean’s robe had fallen open and he slid his hands down to mounds of smooth flesh and
pulled Elijah to him. Their arousals met, danced and said hello. “Every part of me likes it
fine,” he laughed softly.
“Brilliant,” Elijah sighed, pressing his face into the warm hollow of Sean’s neck. “’Cos it
took the whole damned morning, and I had to stand for most of it. Which gave me a
horrible flashback to ‘Feet’ and it took the rest of the day to dry, too. I didn’t want to get
too close to you earlier, because it had this herby smell yesterday and I didn’t want you to
suspect something.” He flexed himself slowly against Sean’s body and snickered, “I hope
you enjoy me, because there’s no way I’m ever gonna do that again.”
“There’s only one thing,” Sean said, and Elijah drew back to peer at him worriedly.
“What? If you’re upset about me being naked with Viggo, Henry was there too, you know.”
Sean grinned. “Nah. But do I frame you and hang you on the wall, or do I fuck you
through the wall? And will I mess up Viggo’s masterpiece?”
~~~~~
“Did you know,” Elijah panted as he drew himself up the length of Sean’s cock and
plunged back down with a moan, “that henna... ahhh... keeps you young... helps... hair
grow and... uhhh... augments sexual drive?”
Sean looked up at the vision riding him; at the long, lovely line of Elijah’s neck, the hair
curling damply on his forehead and those extravagant lashes collecting the last motes of
fading sunlight. A fine sheen of sweat beaded his skin, darkening the dappled shadows
that adorned it, and in that moment, Sean’s woodland fantasy dissolved, leaving behind
something wild and barbaric in its place. Something still not quite real.
“Tell that to Dom and Bills,” he grated. He heaved his body over and Elijah rolled with
him, smoothly reversing their positions. Sean drew a deep breath. So much better, he
thought. Grounded. Mine. A few long, hard thrusts and Elijah came with a choked wail
and Sean wrapped his arms around his love and let himself go at last.
~~~~~
“Yeah, Dom and Bills,” Elijah chuckled. “You certainly don’t need any of it,” he added
approvingly. Sean had arranged him on his belly and was looking over the patterns on
his partner’s back and buttocks, a pensive look on his face. Fleeting images crossed his
mind – a bulging briefcase and a laptop full of unanswered e-mail being part of them –
and he ran his hands over the silky skin and shut his eyes.
“How long will the mehndi last?” he asked eventually.
“That depends. Vigs said it’ll fade in a week or two – less than that if I scrub really hard.
Why?”
“Got any plans for the next couple of days?” Sean bent his head and traced a leaf,
watching it glisten under his tongue.
Elijah levered himself up on an elbow and smiled lazily. “Nothing that won’t keep,” he
purred.
“Good.” Sean gave a bark of laughter as a thought struck him. “Do you know what a
traditional fifth-year anniversary present is made of?”
Elijah sent him a puzzled look. “Haven’t got a clue.”
“Wood,” and Sean gave his gift a loving kiss.
The End
of the quiet Canyon neighborhood. Holy shit.
He had always had a thing about anniversaries - you are the count; you always count, a
laughing voice broke in, and he grinned at the memory. But those he had acquired over
the last half-decade were especially important to him, not only for being hard-won but
also because he derived immeasurable pleasure and a sense of stability from the
assumption that there would be another one next year, and the year after that, and so it
would go, his world without end. Elijah was of a different mind, though. Not that their
anniversaries were any less precious to him, but he had always had the happy knack of
living in the moment, and he hadn’t changed. “You are here,” he had said simply when
Sean agonized over filming schedules with a view toward being on hand for special days.
“Wherever you have been, wherever you will be, you are here.”
All at once the strain of his seven-hour flight diminished to a bearable ache and the
passing scenery seemed to take on a brighter hue. The air smelled fresher, cleaner, even
as he forced it around the sudden tightness in his chest; a lump made up, he supposed,
of an excess of happiness that had to collect somewhere – so why not right underneath
his heart?
As he turned into their driveway, a sudden impulse struck him and he rolled his eyes
upward. “Thank you,” he breathed, the small prayer no less fervent for the heat of
embarrassment that immediately warmed his face. Still. One had to give thanks where
thanks were due, because lousy weather had played havoc with his filming schedule, and
he was very lucky to be here at all. Hence the litany of gratitude.
Thank you. For an understanding cast, for an excellent AD, for having the foresight to
leave the car in the long-term lot, because the airport was so jammed, there weren't any
cabs to be had. Thank you for Him, Lord. Most of all.
He drummed his fingers on the wheel as the garage doors slid slowly open. Elijah wasn’t
filming at the moment, but he’d been away east to some music festival, then he had
stopped by Viggo’s Idaho ranch the day before, and… He released the breath he hadn’t
realized he’d been holding as the mini cooper was revealed, parked in its accustomed
spot and smiled as he eased to a stop beside it. When they were both in LA, eight times
out of ten, Elijah beat him home. He claimed that he just liked to see the pole-axed look
on Sean’s face when he opened the door and Sean had countered with the injudicious
remark that Elijah was turning out to be a good little... Heh.
Don’t say it, Sean, Elijah had warned.
Ooops. My mistake, Sean had been recklessly unrepentant. You’re barefoot and I’m
working on getting you naked, but you’d probably set the kitchen on fire if I shut you up in
it and it would take a miracle from God himself to make you a mama.
Sean still wondered what demon of stupidity had possessed him then. He could so easily
have hurt his love's pride irreparably, and all for the sake of a good punchline. As it was,
he had ended up on the hallway floor with his head in an armlock, and Elijah had
proceeded to prove to both their satisfactions that he definitely was not ‘good little wife’
material in any way, shape or form. First among equals was more like it. Sean felt a
certain part of his anatomy clench at the memory and came back to the present with a
start. He shook his head ruefully as he killed the engine and unloaded his bags. Having
Elijah in his head was very nice, but holding that strong, slim body in his arms was a
thousand times better, and he was wasting precious time.
Five minutes later, he was standing in the foyer, feeling oddly bereft. A perfunctory peck
on the cheek and a quick hug did not a welcome make – not in his book, anyway. The
greeting had a flavor of avoidance about it, and he wondered uneasily where things had
gone wrong. True – he didn’t always appreciate being on the receiving end of the
patented Elijah Wood tackle, not when he was tired and a bit – eh – fragrant, but he
fucking wanted... something.
Elijah gave him a beaming smile and went toward the stairs, Sean’s carry-all in one
hand. “Pizza tonight,” he said over his shoulder. “Com’on up and get changed.”
Sean turned to set his laptop on the hall table, and as it always did, an after-image
stayed behind his eyelids, like the flashes of light that obscured his vision if he looked too
long at the sun. The image of a slight man dressed in loose linen trousers under an old
dress shirt, dark hair curling softly on smooth temples and fingertips just showing below
too-long sleeves. He saw the stretch of thin cloth and the play of skin beneath it, the
wicked glint in the sapphire eyes – and his brows rose in hopeful speculation.
“Hurry up!” Elijah’s voice floated down from their bedroom. “And grab a shower – you
stink of airplane air!”
Sean grinned and bounded up the stairs.
Hot water, turned to the highest massage setting, drummed against his skin, relaxing
tight muscles and lulling him into reverie. He ran lazily over his plans for the next day; the
florist would deliver flowers – ostensibly for the table, but Elijah would know better, and
Sean thought he wouldn’t mind. Then dinner by candlelight, prepared by his own two
hands. Lots of loving before, during and after; that went without saying. Perhaps a jaunt
or two to visit friends and family...
His gift to Elijah lay hidden deep under the bed in the spare bedroom, a photograph he
had taken during a picnic the summer past. In it, Elijah sat with his back against a tree
with Bella asleep in his arms. He had been telling the girls a story, and Lizzie lay on the
blanket with her head pillowed on his thigh, while Aly leaned against his shoulder, a
sleepy smile on her face. They hadn’t even noticed that he had sneaked away, and Sean
blessed the absorbing qualities of a New Zealand tale and the excellence of the latest in
telephoto lenses for the memory he had captured. Enlarged, matted and framed, it
made a beautiful keepsake.
He wondered briefly what Elijah had planned for him, but the half-formed thought slid
away with the soap that washed down his body. He knew that he would love whatever
Elijah gave him. They could buy each other all the latest toys for birthdays and holidays,
but they kept their anniversary presents down to simple things they did for each other. In
Sean’s view, they were the best gifts of all.
“What’s his majesty up to these days?” he called through the half-open door as he
toweled himself dry. Elijah said something indistinguishable in reply and he shrugged on
his robe and entered the bedroom. It seemed empty at first glance and he looked toward
the closed door, puzzled - then something moved at the periphery of his vision, and he
snapped his head back, his eyes widening.
Late afternoon sunlight poured through the open window, filtered through the branches of
the young oak that sheltered their western wall. It dripped like honey across the polished
floor and lit the room with a strange, shimmering glow. A figure flickered through the
green-golden light and he blinked in astonishment. A rational part of Sean’s mind
realized why it had been so easy to miss seeing Elijah – he must have been shrouded in
the deep shadow beside the window – and the rest of him gibbered in wonder and
fascination at the picture his partner made.
Elijah looked like a creature straight out of a woodland fantasy; a sprite, a dryad come
down from his tree. The shifting sunbeams behind him flared out like filmy wings and
swirling patterns covered his naked skin; from the base of his neck, winding round his
arms and down to his ankles, colors ranging from a rich red-brown to the palest café-au-
lait. They seemed to writhe across his body as he walked forward, a tentative smile on
his face.
Sean swallowed hard. “My God,” he whispered. “I’ve got an afternoon with a faun.”
“Minus the horns and the hairy legs,” Elijah giggled. “They aren’t tattoos, by the way.”
Sean gave him a you’ve gotta be kidding look. “Considering the fuss you made over the
tiny one on your hip? I didn’t think they were.” His eyes dropped, irresistibly drawn to the
pale body before him, and his dazed brain made a lightning connection. “You and Viggo
planned this, didn’t you.”
“Not really. I didn’t know what I wanted, apart from the possibility of some edible body
paint,” Elijah made a small sound of approval as Sean traced a particularly graceful
frond around his nipple with a light finger, “But Vigs had – ahhh - better idea.”
“What did he use?” Sean dropped slowly to his knees, his hands tracing his progress
down Elijah’s body. Apart from his lover’s head, neck, hands and feet and a band of
bare skin around his groin, leaf and fern designs brocaded every inch of him, interspersed
with scrollwork of graduated color, all in different hues of russet-brown.
“Henna paste.” Elijah’s skin shivered under Sean’s mouth as his lover explored the fern-
brake on the inside of his thigh and his cock twitched. “Shit, Sean. Ahhh, Vigs used one
of those icing bags with different sized nozzles. Like he was decorating a fucking cake.”
“Angel’s Food, yeah,” Sean transferred his attentions to the other thigh. “Doesn’t look like
any mehndi I’ve ever seen, though.”
Elijah’s back tensed and arched as Sean nibbled at a particularly sensitive spot. “You
know Viggo – he’s got to improve on everything. Do you – “ He took a sobbing breath, “Do
you like my anniversary gift, Seanie?”
Sean got to his feet and cupped Elijah’s face. “You are the most gorgeous thing God ever
made,” he said huskily. “And I like it fine.” The kiss that followed then was tender, and
held all the reverence Sean felt for the fey creature in his arms – then it deepened in
intensity, and when they finally broke for air, they were flushed, panting and heavy-eyed.
Sean’s robe had fallen open and he slid his hands down to mounds of smooth flesh and
pulled Elijah to him. Their arousals met, danced and said hello. “Every part of me likes it
fine,” he laughed softly.
“Brilliant,” Elijah sighed, pressing his face into the warm hollow of Sean’s neck. “’Cos it
took the whole damned morning, and I had to stand for most of it. Which gave me a
horrible flashback to ‘Feet’ and it took the rest of the day to dry, too. I didn’t want to get
too close to you earlier, because it had this herby smell yesterday and I didn’t want you to
suspect something.” He flexed himself slowly against Sean’s body and snickered, “I hope
you enjoy me, because there’s no way I’m ever gonna do that again.”
“There’s only one thing,” Sean said, and Elijah drew back to peer at him worriedly.
“What? If you’re upset about me being naked with Viggo, Henry was there too, you know.”
Sean grinned. “Nah. But do I frame you and hang you on the wall, or do I fuck you
through the wall? And will I mess up Viggo’s masterpiece?”
~~~~~
“Did you know,” Elijah panted as he drew himself up the length of Sean’s cock and
plunged back down with a moan, “that henna... ahhh... keeps you young... helps... hair
grow and... uhhh... augments sexual drive?”
Sean looked up at the vision riding him; at the long, lovely line of Elijah’s neck, the hair
curling damply on his forehead and those extravagant lashes collecting the last motes of
fading sunlight. A fine sheen of sweat beaded his skin, darkening the dappled shadows
that adorned it, and in that moment, Sean’s woodland fantasy dissolved, leaving behind
something wild and barbaric in its place. Something still not quite real.
“Tell that to Dom and Bills,” he grated. He heaved his body over and Elijah rolled with
him, smoothly reversing their positions. Sean drew a deep breath. So much better, he
thought. Grounded. Mine. A few long, hard thrusts and Elijah came with a choked wail
and Sean wrapped his arms around his love and let himself go at last.
~~~~~
“Yeah, Dom and Bills,” Elijah chuckled. “You certainly don’t need any of it,” he added
approvingly. Sean had arranged him on his belly and was looking over the patterns on
his partner’s back and buttocks, a pensive look on his face. Fleeting images crossed his
mind – a bulging briefcase and a laptop full of unanswered e-mail being part of them –
and he ran his hands over the silky skin and shut his eyes.
“How long will the mehndi last?” he asked eventually.
“That depends. Vigs said it’ll fade in a week or two – less than that if I scrub really hard.
Why?”
“Got any plans for the next couple of days?” Sean bent his head and traced a leaf,
watching it glisten under his tongue.
Elijah levered himself up on an elbow and smiled lazily. “Nothing that won’t keep,” he
purred.
“Good.” Sean gave a bark of laughter as a thought struck him. “Do you know what a
traditional fifth-year anniversary present is made of?”
Elijah sent him a puzzled look. “Haven’t got a clue.”
“Wood,” and Sean gave his gift a loving kiss.
The End
| RED-LETTER DAYS |
