Fic: Chasing Ian chapter 2

[kribban]

2



It doesn’t take very long for Ian to figure out that something is wrong.

Elijah wakes up to the sounds of running water and his own rumbling stomach. He pulls on his jeans over fresh underwear, and picks up a clean pair of socks and a faded T-shirt with “IOWA is best, FUCK the rest,” printed across his chest. It’s never been the truth, but eight years ago, the shirt had been the coolest piece of clothing he had owned.

When reaching his destination, the ivy green brick oasis of Ian’s bathroom, he is treated to the sight of his boyfriend spitting and rinsing.

“There’s a sight for sore eyes,” he says cheerily, and tries to match his mood with his tone.

Ian puts the toothbrush away and turns off the water, stepping aside to let Elijah wash up. “G’Morning.”

“So. What do you want to do today? ’Cause I want do whatever you want – I mean, anything’s fine by me. We could go wherever you want today. You want go out? There are people you want meet?”

Elijah involuntarily goes into what Billy refers to as happy-squirrel-on-crack mode. He has decided that today is a good day, and he plans to make the most of it. What is it his mom used to say? ‘The outlook makes the life,’ or ‘The mood makes the day,’ or something cheesy like that.

“There are like, a thousand things I wanna’ get today. I haven’t really had time to shop lately, you know, been too busy. I want Chinese food for lunch, do you know a good Chinese place? I definitely want Chinese food today. Or we could go see a film! Do you want to go to the movies? You know, moving pictures?”

He laughs a little feebly at his own joke and presses into the arm that wraps around his waist as he washes his hands with that almond-cream soap he knows Ian only buys for his sake.

”Elijah…”

The voice that speaks his name is softly reprimanding. He glances up in the mirror and gives a little wink.

“I want deep-fried prawns, or the duck today. Mmm, and won-ton soup. Oh fuck! Won-ton soup, I’ve been dying for that. I’m hungry just thinking about it. I want breakfast now, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse… or not a horse really, but a hobbit anyway. Can I make breakfast? Don’t say it, don’t say it, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m getting really good at it. Mom’s been giving me lessons and I haven’t burned a thing in weeks, I swear! I could do whatever you want, just tell me. Sausages and bacon and porridge and hash browns and oatmeal and omelet and scrambled eggs and boiled eggs and fried eggs, not Eggs Benedict yet, but pretty much anything else... You name it, I can do it. So, uhm, what do you want?”

He finishes off his rant with a big smile and a gasp for breath. The arm wraps around him tighter, and the gaze that meets him in the mirror is bright and curious.

Ian kisses him on the cheek. “How about… the truth, with a side-order of honesty? You think you can make that for me?”

Elijah should know better than to stall, but Knowbetter is the capital of Elijahland. “What do you mean?” He is turned around and finds himself standing face to face with Ian.

“What is up with you today? Something is wrong.” Ian tucks a strand of hair behind Elijah’s ear and gives his best shot at Gandalf. “Come on. Hmm? You can tell me.”

Elijah smiles and drops his defenses. ”It’s just so stupid. It’s not a big deal. Really, it isn’t.”

He pulls Ian away into the kitchen, where he deposits him on a chair before opening the fridge. He finds cheese and yogurt and vegetables and fishes a loaf from the breadbox. “Where do you keep the muesli?” Ian makes a move to rise but stills when Elijah turns around and points the bread knife at him. “You. Sit!”

So Ian sits, and appears to be studying the headlines while giving Elijah directions.
“Bottom cabinet. To your right. No, the first one. Behind the linguini. Behind it!”

After what seems to be an eternity, Elijah finally pulls out a colourful package and stands up.

”Told you it was there.” Ian opens the lid to the sugar box and pops a lump into his mouth. “You’ve a lovely bottom, by the way.” Elijah grins and mumbles “thanks” while making toast.

“Tea? Coffee?”

Both tea and coffee are brewing when Elijah places two bowls of yoghurt and a plate of toast on the kitchen table. “Eat, and be grateful. Your kitchen is disorganized, by the way. I couldn’t find an elephant in these cabinets. ”

He knows that Ian can take a lot of things this early in the morning, but critique of his household isn’t one of them.

“It’s not disorganized! I’ve a perfectly logical system. You just have to learn it.”

“Oh please, [my] kitchen is more organized than yours. Mom would have a field day with this place.” Elijah crunches happily on yoghurt-soaked muesli. Today is going to be a good day, he thinks, and he is going to be happy.

“That’s because you’ve nothing in it! If a mud slide buried you, you’d starve to death before they’d even had a chance to dig you out!”

Elijah gets his coffee and Ian’s tea and returns with his treasures to the table.

“Mud slide? In Santa Monica? Oh please,” he snorts, but the snort doesn’t sound as good-natured as he wants it to. He fires off his friendliest smile and adds: “Besides… don’t you know I’m immortal?”

A twinkle in Ian’s blue eyes betrays his amusement, before said amusement turns to concern in less than a nano-second. “How is Deborah, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Huh? Oh, she’s fine. Perfect health. Nice boyfriend. Sends her regards. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I just thought that maybe you were worried about her, and that that’s what’s bothering you.”

It takes a moment for the ball to drop, but then Elijah lights up. “Oh, that! No, no, nothing’s wrong with mom. It’s nothing like that.” He coughs and washes down his last bit of toast with coffee. “It’s just me being stupid, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about.” Ian is quiet but does the universal ‘go on’ motion with his right hand. Elijah coughs loudly. “I was just a bit shocked.”

There, that ought to do as explanation.

“Shocked by what?”

Guess again. Elijah feels an involuntary blush coming on.

“Last night. What you said.” Yep, definitely blushing now. Ian is studying him closely, practically wearing a sign that says ‘pondering in progress’.

“What did I say?”

”Uhm… The thing I asked… The sex-stuff.” The look on Ian’s face is that of complete and utter surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Crunch, crunch. Elijah is trying to think of how tasty the muesli is. He counts, not in Mississippis, but in bites, how long it takes for Ian to speak up again.

“Well, I didn’t know that you’d find my old adventures so interesting." Ian sighs and looks suddenly puzzled. “Well…I suppose you learn something new every day. But I’m afraid I don’t really understand.”

Elijah can see a hint of amusement in Ian’s eyes, and it bothers him. “What do you mean you don’t understand? What is there not to understand?” The harsh tone of his voice surprises him. Ian looks slightly taken aback.

“Well, you said you were shocked. What exactly…shocked you?”

Elijah’s blush deepens. Good thing there’s some yoghurt left in his bowl.

“I just… didn’t expect it from you, that’s all. I didn’t think you’d done those things.”

Ian’s forehead is wrinkled for a second, and then he leans forward on his elbows and asks, in the gentlest tone possible: “You thought I hadn’t had sex before?” The tone is so serious that Elijah is taken aback for a moment.

“Of course not!” he practically snarls. “Oh, come on. Knock it off,” he adds as Ian bursts into giggles.

“Very funny. Ha ha. No, what I meant was,” he puts down the spoon as the moment passes, “that I didn’t think that you would have done those things you said you had. I didn’t think that you would had been that… kinky, and I didn’t think that you’d had that many… lovers.”

He says the word ‘kinky’ like it’s going to bite him, and he keeps his gaze firmly on the contents of his bowl. When he finally looks up, he finds that he is being studied with a look of fondness that makes him half-expect Ian’s next words to be ‘Oh, sweetie.’

Elijah shivers.

Instead, Ian merely lifts a hand and scratches his own nose. He looks almost embarrassed.

“Well, I wouldn’t go quite so far as to call myself kinky, but I suppose that if you summarize [anyone’s] sexual history in sixty seconds, it might come across as such. It might sound a little… more than it actually was.” He taps his fingers on the table and lets out the sort of sigh that soon melts into a moan.

Elijah shrugs his shoulders as casually as he can. “I guess so, yeah. But… It’s still a bit… I mean… It’s not the sort of thing you hear everyday.”

“But you grew up in Hollywood! Don’t tell me you haven’t heard far more exciting tales than mine?”

“Yeah, you hear things, but that’s just rumors about people you’ve met once or twice. Gossip on movie sets. You know, it’s not like people do these sorts of things. I mean, people you actually know.”

Elijah feels like biting his tongue. He turns his gaze away, staring out through the window. As he finally turns back, Ian is looking confident again, all trace of embarrassment gone now. He smiles patiently at Elijah.

“Sounds to me as if you don’t know what people are really like. You know, all that talk about decadent celebrities and sex-workers aside, the most rewarding experiences are usually had by ordinary folks. I suggest that you probe your surroundings a little better. It’s surprising what you can learn when you sit down and really have a heart-to-heart with someone.”

It’s all so pedagogical that Elijah can’t help but snort.

“You always go all school-teacher on me, you know.”

“I do not!”

“Do too.”

Ian frowns. “I’m sorry. I shall think twice before I treat you to the pearls of my wisdom next time.”

Elijah can’t help but grin a bit, but the grin soon fades as his mind is filled with unbidden images: Peter in an apron and Fran with a whip. He makes a disgusted sound at the back of his throat and picks up where he left off.

“I know, I know. I mean, that sounds right and all, but I just don’t think that people do all that stuff. Some of the things you said… I just don’t think people do them. I mean, I didn’t even think you had. Not all of them, anyway. But as you said, I’m sure it sounds a lot worse when it’s compiled like that.”

He isn’t as diplomatic as Ian, he thinks, when he realizes that he’s substituted Ian’s ‘more’ with ‘worse’. He takes another sip of the coffee, which by now is almost completely cold, and watches Ian’s fingers tap against the table again.

“How come you’re acting so chaste all of a sudden? I mean, it’s not as though you’re not acquainted with the less vanilla side of sexuality. I’ve seen your collection of pornography, you know! Some of the activities in those films that seem to get you off are hardly considered, well, standard procedure.”

Elijah bites his lip. “That’s different.”

“Why is it different?”

When Elijah doesn’t answer Ian lets out a deep sigh.

“I didn’t realize that you were such a prude. No, no, I don’t mean it as an insult, I simply mean that I didn’t think you’d be quite so… conservative when it comes to certain… quirks. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re inhibited in bed. I know full well that you’re not.”

He smiles, but Elijah is frowning.

“You’re not a bloody prude just ‘cause you don’t have the habit of tying people up and beating the living crap out of them.” It slips out before he has a chance to stop himself. He reaches out a hand to touch Ian’s wrist. “Sorry. Didn’t mean that.”

Ian lets out yet another sigh and pats Elijah’s hand. “I don’t think that my experiences with that particular practice qualify as a habit. Especially since I haven’t indulged in it for more than a decade. And I’ve never beaten anyone into a pulp. If I had, I surely would have served a prison sentence, and as far as I know, I never have. I’ve never been on the receiving end of any ‘beating’ either. And again, I’m sorry if I offended you.” He smiles, and holds Elijah’s hand in a firm grip when it starts to pull back.

“And… I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it is. My God, you make it sound as if I were Caligula! I haven’t done anything bad or earth shattering or even exciting to anyone but myself and my partners. All I did was dabble a bit in the things I encountered, whenever I felt like it. It’s nothing I don’t have in common with half the people I know! As for the sado-masochism that you seem to be so preoccupied with, I can assure you that it’s the thing I have the least experience with. Trust me, you’ve blown this completely out of proportion.” He squeezes Elijah’s hand again and smiles reassuringly.

He lowers his voice a notch before he continues. ”As for lovers, I’ve had no more nor less than I wanted to. They all felt right at the time, and I don’t regret any of them.”

Elijah squirms a bit in his seat. How typical. Trust Ian to deliver a line that is so vague, yet so blunt at the same time. It could mean the equivalent of a school class, or the members of the New Labour party. He suddenly can’t help feeling a bit inferior.

Ian squeezes his hand once more before letting it go. “See, compared to Madonna, or Julio Inglesias, my past is quite mundane.” He says the last word with an expression of mock-disgust, and then he smiles warmly. “Are you all right?”

Elijah shakes away his troublesome thoughts and nods. He has Ian after all, he must be all right. Ian leans over to kiss him, then stands up to clear the table. “Now, where did you want to go?”

***

The following weeks he tries not to think about it.

He finally decides to really get back into working and devotes himself to doing what he does best. Whatever free time is left between filming and doing PR for Rings, he divides between his family and his friends. When he sees Ian he is determined that they should have a good time, and they do.

He can’t abandon his game though. He finds himself asking Ian about his past even more often than before. It’s sort of a science project, learning how to pick up on signals and all that.

So little is needed to raise a suspicion in Elijah. A friendly kiss. A touch on the shoulder. A small remark that [could] be a reference to an intimate past. More often than not however, he gets a negative answer. Whether he is losing his touch or just getting too paranoid he’s not quite sure.

“Nope, completely platonic,” has become Ian’s most common reply. In the cases where he [has] bedded the person in question, he discreetly confirms Elijah’s suspicion, and then patiently answers any questions he might have. Elijah always has plenty of those.

He is surprised to find himself bothered by Ian’s warm and open nature. His kindness and generosity were some of the things that first attracted Elijah. Now, those very same things are a constant source of irritation. On the few occasions when they go to a party together, Elijah has to watch his boyfriend hugging and kissing a lot of other people. Ian’s just so damn cuddly with everyone. ‘Group groper,’ Dom had called him.

It’s embarrassing, really.

Elijah knows he’s being completely irrational, considering he isn’t much better himself. Hobbits are an affectionate bunch, including tongues and fondling. He can distinctively remember wrapping his lithe self all around a pretty elf on a red carpet somewhere. But it’s not the same, he tells himself.

They’re curled up on the sofa one night, prepared to watch an episode of ‘The Weakest Link’. Elijah likes the cruelty of the show, so different from the sissy 'Millionaire' or the boring 'Jeopardy', and Ian is quite the fan of Anne Robinson.

“I wish I could be like that,” he confesses, waving his hand towards the television screen. “So bossy and ice-cool. Except if it was my show, the questions would all be gay and I’d only invite cute boys. When they’d get tossed off I’d say: “You are the weakest twink. Goodbye!’”

Elijah reaches for the bowl of popcorn and places it strategically in Ian’s lap.

“I know. You said it in an interview somewhere.” He frowns and gives Ian his best glare. “Mom read it, and she wasn’t happy about it. God, you’re so… Why do you have to be so…” He snaps his fingers as if that could help him find the word he’s looking for.

“Queer?” Ian looks highly amused and drapes his left arm around Elijah’s shoulders.

“Err, I was actually going to say ‘outspoken’, but you have a point. You’re so gay sometimes it’s scary. Or... well, you know what I mean.” Ian looks like he’s on the verge of giggling, so Elijah shuts him up the best way he knows.

“Oh, darling! It comes with the territory. You have to let me be camp sometimes, sweetie,” Ian says when Elijah pulls away again. Elijah stuffs a few popcorns into his mouth and tries not to get aroused by Ian's hand grazing his chest.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Serves me right for going out with an old queen.” He looks away for a moment. “I just wish he hadn’t fucked everyone.” He pops more corn into his mouth and gives Ian’s knee a squeeze.

Ian doesn’t say anything. He just studies Elijah with a thoughtful expression on his face. When his idol Ms. Robinson presents the contestants, his eyes suddenly light up, and he squeezes Elijah closer to him.

“Oh, Trevor!”

Elijah looks up at his boyfriend’s cheery exclamation. “What?”

Ian turns to him, bright-eyed and smiling. He points to the screen. “Trevor. I’ve slept with him.”

“Really?”

”Yes! One amazing night in Bristol he pressed me up against a bathroom-wall and took me right there.”
Elijah doesn’t know what’s worse, the words coming out of Ian’s mouth, or the excitement with which they are spoken.

“Oh my God. I’ve slept with that man!”

He squirms unhappily in his seat, completely forgetting the show, the popcorn and the hand caressing his nipple through the fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, you said so.”

“No, that one! I’ve slept with him too!”

He looks up at Ian who is pointing enthusiastically towards the screen. “Him! The man in the green shirt. I’ve slept with him. It was at Cambridge. He was an English Major. Dear God, what was his name? Randall? No. Clifton? Uhm, no… Damn.”

Ian taps his head as if to knock everything back into place, and Elijah swallows uneasily.

“You see, it’s just so darn hard to keep track of all of them. I keep mixing up their names. Oh, but I [know] he was lovely. Vanilla, yes, but lovely nonetheless.”

He sighs the way a fan of romance novels would after having been thoroughly satisfied by Prince Charming. “Trevor was better, though. Kinkier in a way. Very exciting.” He says the last bit the way Gandalf would, talking about pipe weed. “Nothing like [that] guy. Oh, he was boring! Very inhibited. He hardly knew where to put it! I basically had to re-train him.”

He is pointing towards yet another man on the television screen. “So Daniel was his name? Hmm. I would never have guessed. Didn’t look like a Daniel to me. Although, you can hardly tell what they look like in the dark, now can you?”

He winks at Elijah who by now doesn’t know what to think. “Oh my, when I come to think of it I realize I’ve bedded the blond too. Yes, I have! [And] the women! My God, what is this show?” He turns to Elijah and raises his eyebrows in excitement. “I’ve fucked them all! In fact, if I’m not mistaken, I’ve even had an affair with Anne! Oh yes, now I remember. We were at it like rabbits, oh Elijah, it was absolutely wonderful! I used to put on her dresses and ride around on a pig on her front lawn singing Rule Britannia. I can’t believe I’d forgotten!”

He wrinkles his forehead and studies Elijah with twinkling eyes, challenging him for a smile. Partially irritated, and partially relieved, Elijah pushes Ian’s arm away and gives him a pissed off look. “That isn’t very funny.”

“Oh, but it is.” Ian puts his arm firmly back into place and pulls Elijah close. “I’m only telling you what you want to hear. You’re the one who’s always asking if I’ve slept with everyone. And according to you, I have!”

“Don’t make this about me, Ian,” Elijah says and tries to immerse himself in the television. He can feel himself getting agitated, and he doesn’t want to go down that road again. “You ain’t funny at all. In fact, you’re pretty annoying, so shut up and let me see the show.”

Ian’s smile has disappeared and he suddenly looks very tired. “Well, what do [you] suggest I do when you’re being ridiculous like this, hmm?”

Elijah wrinkles his nose and practically snarls: “I’m [not] a child.”

Ian cups his chin with his free hand. “I didn’t say that you were.” After a moment his eyes soften and he lets out a sigh. “Why are you so hung up on this? Are you envious of me? Really, because if you are, I can assure you that you’ve nothing to be envious of. I’m sure you’ve had as much fun as I have, or even more! It’s not like you were a virgin when I met you.”

Elijah shrinks back into his seat. Sure, he hadn’t been a virgin, but his past is hardly anything out of the ordinary. His lovers can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Or, one half of a hand, actually. There had been Belinda, when he was sixteen. She had been his first lover. His only serious girlfriend, really. The sex had been normal, awkward, a bit boring, both of them having been virgins. She’d been as sweet and innocent as they come, Elijah thinks. Warm, voluptuous and giggly, the way only a teenage girl can be. They keep in touch, from time to time. Last time they met for lunch she beamingly showed off her new, pink and very pretty baby.

And then there had been Dom, the sole reason he’d opened up to the possibility of bisexuality. They’d grown close in New Zealand, even closer than the rest of the hobbits, and there had developed chemistry between them that hinted at something more than friendship. One night they had been drunk and fallen together onto Orli’s bed, and soon inebriation gave way to horniness as they engaged in drunken fumblings. One thing had led to another, and violá: Elijah had found himself in his first same-sex relationship.

It had died down eventually, Dom and he deciding to be best friends and roommates and celebrating their decision with one last fuck, for old times’ sake. There hadn’t been enough infatuation. Sure, he’d been attracted to Dom, and sure he loves him very much, but he’d never quite fallen [in] love with him, the way he’d been with Belinda. The sex had been great though, and he’d missed it terribly when the relationship changed. Then, of course, he’d started dating Ian, getting good sex as well as that love bit.

“I’m not envious. And I know I wasn’t a virgin, but my résumé is like ten times shorter than yours.” He can’t help it, but he suddenly feels so incredibly outclassed. Ian smiles patiently and gestures with his hand in the air as if he’s holding a lecture.

“You must remember, Elijah, that what you asked about stretches over most of my adult life. This isn’t ‘A year in the life of Ian McKellen’, you know.” His smile turns sheepish and he mutters under his breath. “I wouldn’t want to see that play.”

“I know, I know, but…”

“But me no buts! You make it sound like all I’ve done in life is to indulge myself sexually. If you haven’t noticed, I spent the better part of the last thirty years working my ass off! I told you before, and I’m telling you now, you’ve blown this out of proportion.” He leans forward so that his face is mere centimetres away from Elijah’s.

“This isn’t such a big deal for me. This isn’t something I spend my days thinking about. My God, the theatre has been a thousand times more important to me than whatever experiments I conducted with my friends. Hmm?” He kisses Elijah softly and then leans back, giving his boyfriend space to watch the show. Elijah nods. He knows Ian is right, of course.

“I just… It’s so stupid,” he mumbles before immersing himself in the show. “I just feel outclassed sometimes.” He pushes the thoughts of jealousy and disgust away with more popcorn and a sip of Guinness.

“That [is] stupid. You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. But if you ever want to experiment, not to bring someone else home naturally, but… if you want to try something you’re curious about, just tell me and I’ll see what I can do.” Ian’s lips graze Elijah’s forehead, and his whispers are full of tenderness. “I do love you, you know.”

Elijah doesn’t answer. He just munches on his popcorn and watches as inferior contestants get thrown out of the game.