banner by Vanessa
Copyright June 4, 2003-October 12, 2004 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: R
Pairing: Sean Astin/Elijah Wood
Disclaimer: Sean Astin and Elijah Wood are their own people. The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.
Not down.
Up.
Not dangerously high up, not fantastically high, not so high you know it can’t last. Not a high that can’t be sustained.
Or maybe so, maybe it is dangerously high, because Elijah makes me feel too good sometimes, a lot of the time, all of the time. Too good, more than can be safe, which makes it unsafe, which therefore means it’s dangerous. But no, not dangerous, not dangerous at all, only high, up, hopeful. Elijah makes me feel that all things are possible, that anything’s possible, that this really is, in the end, going to be a great, happy life.
But I digress. My point: his eyes.
He knows, in theory, how he looks, how it comes across. Enough people have told him for him to have a fairly good idea that his eyes fall somewhere above “window to the soul” but somewhere below “alien bug-eyed child.” But I know that he doesn’t fully understand, because he brushes off those comments. He’s heard them all before, which tells me, he hasn’t heard them at all.
Elijah isn’t exactly an egomaniac. Easy within his own skin, yes, but not tremendously self-important. It probably helped that, while he was working on the biggest film of his life, we made fun of him on a daily basis. Nothing like being mocked by Dom and Billy to keep you grounded.
I should know.
I’m wandering around from subject to subject, nowhere near my point. I’m not even sure what my point is. Maybe my point is that Elijah’s a beautiful creature and doesn’t know it. Maybe my point is that since I first met him, every day I’m a little more committed to making sure he’s happy and safe and smiling. Maybe my point is that it doesn’t matter whom you love; it matters how you love.
Elijah says he learned that from me.
I say, I learned it from
him.
On paper, onscreen, Samwise looks after his Mr. Frodo.
Never let it be said that I don’t throw myself into my roles wholeheartedly. Not only did I gain weight for the trilogy, I gained a purpose. Look after Frodo. Take care of Frodo. Commit yourself to Frodo’s well-being.
The weight’s gone now. The purpose remains.
When the cameras were rolling, there we were. When the cameras stopped, well, there we still were. Wigs off, feet noticeably smaller, but not much else different.
Ian was still the one we looked to for guidance, the experienced hand. Viggo was still the one we admired, the who one could do it all. John was still the one who didn’t let us get too close, but was close to us in spite of it. Sean was still the one we wished could stay with us forever, but knew had to go. Orlando was still the perfect one.
And the hobbits? We were still the hobbits. Dom and Billy were still causing trouble but very friendly doing it. Elijah was still facing a huge task, an impossible project, and pulling it off with barely a hitch. He was still too smart, too talented, for his own good. And he still had those eyes.
And I? I still wanted to make sure he was all right, wanted to help him with his burden, wanted to ease some of the incredible pressure off of him.
Of course there’s the Fellowship, but it’s still Frodo who bears the ring.
Of course there’s an entire cast, an amazing director and producers and writers and crew, but it’s still Elijah who’s front and center.
Frodo has Sam.
Elijah had me.
Those guys were wild. Orlando’s a horrible influence on anyone who wants to stay sane and well out of physical harm. When they weren’t hurling themselves into the face of danger via some new (and usually extreme) sport, they were partying. If there wasn’t a party to be found, they’d create one.
You’d think the experiences we were having filming the trilogy weren’t adventurous enough.
I understood it, though. Taking part in a landmark project like that, much less starring in it, was a huge adventure all on its own. It was such an intense experience, it made us want to live life to its fullest.
And we did.
Our bond as a group was what made the filming what it was for us. Without that acknowledged connection, the entire experience would have been completely different.
We hobbits had it worst of all. All of us in the Fellowship became very close, but the four of us in particular were living in each other’s pockets. A lot of that was because we were always together, on the set at the same time, getting our feet on, all of that. We were the hobbits, and hobbits stick together.
I had to eat a lot, to maintain my hobbitish figure. I made Elijah eat just as much, because he’s waif-thin to begin with, and he was working very hard. I tried to get him to sleep once in a while, too. But there was too much to do, and see, and try, and think about; not enough hours in each day, not enough time to live every minute of this incredible experience. When he did manage to get to bed, he didn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep, he said, because there was too much going on around him, too much to remember, too much to plan for, just too much.
So I stayed with him, and I slept with him. I tried to be a calming influence, and I kept his room quiet and dark, and I talked to him, telling him stories in increasingly softer tones until he drifted off to sleep. I’d fall asleep beside him, and when it was time to get up for feet, we’d go off together to face our continuing adventure.
One night, while I was talking him to sleep, he rolled over towards me. His voice was quiet but full of honest feeling when he said, “I couldn’t do this without you, Sean.”
“Oh, Mr. Frodo,” I said in my Sam voice.
He laughed, that warm laugh that always reminds me how much happiness there is in the world. “I mean it, Sean, I’m serious. You’ve been here for me, you’ve really been supportive, and none of this would be the same without you.”
“We wouldn’t even be here without you,” I told him. In my mind, it was true. Frodo was the most important role to cast, without question, and I firmly believed then and still believe now that no one else could have filled the role as beautifully as Elijah.
“Sean, I love you.”
He’d said it to me before, just as I’d said it to him. Not on a daily basis, of course, but our friendship was so strong that we had no qualms about openly loving each other, one human being to another. But that night, his voice held a different note in it, one I’d never heard from him. It was a little tremulous; frightened yet bold, unsure yet brave. I’ll admit that it took me a moment, but I realized what he meant.
He was in love with me.
I’ve found sexuality to be a fluid stream. Our hearts make choices for us, yes, but sometimes we can encourage those choices by actively directing the stream, and sometimes we can ignore those choices by refusing to allow that course. I’d never had sexual thoughts about Elijah because I’d blocked off access to that route in my mind. I valued his friendship far too highly to complicate things by adding unwanted sexual tension. And I never for a minute thought that someone as beautiful and expressive and active as Elijah would be interested in someone like me.
As soon as Elijah’s meaning registered, however, the dam broke. All of those closeted sexual urges surged forth, and I let myself feel things for him that I’d wanted to let myself experience all of this time.
The room was dark, but I found his hand with my hand, and then I found his mouth with my mouth.
That perfect first kiss. Words can’t describe it. I don’t have the language to explain all that I felt, the first time I kissed Elijah.
I told him that I loved him, and I kissed him again. I couldn’t stop kissing him, and I couldn’t keep myself from him, and in my mind it was too much, too fast, but in my heart? In my heart, it was long overdue. I made love to him.
The next night, we made love with the lights on. The night before, I’d learned his body with my hands, and I’d felt him move against me. That night, I watched him, the way he looked, the way he moved, the play of emotions across his face.
It would be ridiculous if I didn’t mention his eyes. They showed me everything that he felt. They told me things his tongue couldn’t say. All of his passion, his desire, reflected right there. His love for me, the depth of it, the eternal nature of it.
His mouth told me, “I love you.”
His body told me, “I want you. I need you.”
His amazing, incredible,
fantastic, beautiful, gorgeous, captivating eyes told me, “This is forever.”