Title:  Awake 
Author:  Keye 
Author's Email:  mibender@mc.net 
Pairings:  Sean Astin/Elijah Wood 
Rating:  R 
Summary:  Sean can't sleep.
 
 
Sean had hardly slept in three nights. Three long nights spent with his 
every nerve on heightened alert, though he couldn’t well remember what 
had been going through his head all those endless hours. He was too tired 
to think straight, too tired to settle his thoughts so he could close his eyes 
and let it go. And the rattling whap of the ceiling fan wasn’t helping, the 
breeze it made too hot and heavy to provide any comfort. He felt the 
stretch of tension across his shoulders, the spiky pain in the back of his 
skull, the slick heat where Elijah lay against him skin to skin. He buried 
his nose in Lijah’s rumpled hair and breathed in the scent of him. 
 
Elijah was faring better than he was. Lij at least managed to sleep, once 
they’d worn out passion and each other. Three days they’d been doing it, 
getting out of this bed and going to work together like nothing had 
changed. Becoming Frodo and Sam, that was easy. The sheer physical 
effort involved in the shooting wasn’t. They were both exhausted. Did it 
show? Was everyone talking? Had it meant what he’d thought it had, that 
look Billy had given him? 
 
Was it any wonder he couldn’t sleep? With something like reverence he 
hugged Elijah close to him. Lijah sighed quietly, warm breath on his bare 
shoulder, lissome body relaxed and at ease in his arms. With his breath 
held he lightly touched his fingers over the smooth, pale skin of Lijah’s 
cheek and trailed a touch across the softly parted lips. He wanted to kiss, 
wanted those eyes looking at him like they did, all open hearted and 
yearning. His throat tightened with a welling up of emotion. How could 
such beauty possibly be for him, for even a little while? He’d tried to just 
accept that it was, because Lijah wanted him to, but every time it started 
feeling right the marvel of it struck him all over again. 
 
Elijah made him feel like he was nineteen. How he wished he could go 
back ten years and be nineteen for Lij, wished he could make love to Lijah 
with the body he’d had when he was nineteen. He closed his eyes, 
wincing, feeling acutely Elijah’s nakedness against his. He shifted, 
carefully turning on one side to ease him to his back. He jerked a little, 
reaching out. Sean caught his hand to gently hold, and pressed a trembling 
kiss to the pulse beat at his temple. He rolled his head into the touch with 
another sigh, and slept on. 
 
Those sighs alone were enough to keep Sean from sleep. Those sighs… 
and the rattling in the fan, sounding like something was loose and in need 
of repair. Insanely, he thought of getting up and looking at it right then and 
there, but he didn’t have the energy to seriously consider it. He moved just 
a little, trying to ease the ache in his muscles. Elijah’s fingers twitched at 
his palm. Sean stroked and caressed them, soothing him deeper into sleep, 
lying there just drinking in the sight of his face in the moonlight streaming 
through the open window. 
 
If he could go back ten years and be nineteen again…  
 
If he was able to do it over…  
 
If there was nothing to stop him being with Elijah…  
 
A pang of guilt stabbed him, sharp and slashing. If he could somehow 
erase those years from existence, would he? Would he give up Chris? 
Would he give up Ally? 
 
Could he bear to have never experienced the joy his little girl had brought 
him? He didn’t think so. 
 
But he’d found another joy that gripped his heart just as profoundly. 
 
With an indefinable ache inside he bent his head to Elijah’s shoulder. 
None of it should have happened. He’d been looking forward to the future, 
feeling good about where he was. This film was going to open doors for 
him and enable his hopes and dreams. It could mean real success. It could 
mean real security for his family. He wanted that, wanted to have that to 
give to Chris and Ally. Chris deserved it. She’d been there for him through 
it all, the good times, and the times that weren’t so good. 
 
Elijah drew in a catchy breath, chest rising beneath their clasped hands, 
and let it out with a soft sound of almost distress. Sean’s heartbeat 
thumped. He slipped his fingers from Lijah’s and raised that hand to 
gently smooth one dark frowning brow, slow and insistently, until the 
shadow passed. Lijah had said he wanted it, had said he was happy, had 
said it like it couldn’t be anything but the truth. So why did Lij sigh in his 
sleep? Did Lijah wish it too, that he could go back? 
 
Ten years, gone without even a memory? Those years hadn’t been easy. 
They’d been good at times, but never easy. Struggling to get work. 
Struggling to fit into the Hollywood scene he both craved and disdained. 
Always struggling to maintain what he could of that standard, to be thin, 
to be handsome, to be noticed. Never living up to his own expectations. 
Not matinee idol material, not once he reached his twenties. 
 
Ten years back he hadn’t minded being called cute, hadn’t even much 
minded being shorter than the girls who flocked for autographs at movie 
premieres. Teen scream at nineteen, successful enough to believe in good 
fortune, optimistic enough to hope everything was going to turn out for 
him after all. He wished Lijah could have known him then. Then, he’d had 
a fire in him. Now, nearing thirty, carrying Sam’s weight and feeling like a 
grotesque caricature of himself… this was how Elijah had to see him. 
 
But if that was what Lij saw, then why… how? There wasn’t any way to 
explain what was happening between them, no way to rationalize it. Why 
did he have to keep trying? His head hurt. He needed to close his eyes and 
sleep. He couldn’t. 
 
Elijah professed to admire his career. Or Elijah just understood how 
important it was to him and said so to bolster his confidence when it 
shook. He wasn’t ashamed of those years. He knew he’d done good work. 
There were projects he felt pride for having been a part of. Directing, and 
having been recognized for it, that was a joy all its own. But he’d done 
things he wasn’t proud of too, made choices that were necessary because 
he had to keep working no matter what. He’d done the very best he could, 
always put everything he had into every role he played. And he never gave 
up. He just struggled on. He pressed a tender kiss to warm, sweat 
dampened skin. Elijah didn’t have to struggle. Sean hoped he never would. 
He knew it wasn’t easy for Lij, it was damned hard work. But it came to 
him. Elijah was a natural. 
 
The ceiling fan was whirring, a high pitched motor whir that wasn’t right. 
He’d almost talked himself into getting up and turning it off when it 
abruptly shut itself down. The whapping rattle slowed and ceased. A still 
silence fell, and the oppressive heat became a heavy crushing weight. He 
kicked at the last corner of sheet tangled around one foot, and it slid off 
the bed onto the floor. 
 
Elijah breathed a sigh, half rolling toward him, wanting to snuggle. Sean 
held him back with calming caresses, brushing the dark hair away from his 
hot, damp forehead. He stirred a little, then settled again. Sean laid a hand 
over his heart to feel it beating, strong and steady. It was the center of 
Lijah’s being, and the center of his as well. However it had happened, 
there it was. What Elijah meant to him was plainly and simply everything. 
 
“Sean… ” 
 
A faint drowsy whisper. He closed his eyes and lay there still, feeling the 
rise and fall of Elijah’s breathing under his palm. Elijah brought up a hand 
to lay over his. 
 
“I know you’re awake.” 
 
Sean turned his hand to twine fingers with Lijah’s. “It’s alright. You can 
sleep.” They lay there still for a long little while, breathing and sweating, 
until Elijah roused himself to whisper again. 
 
“It’s hot.” 
 
Sean said, “The fan’s broke.”, and lifted his head back against the pillows. 
The pale white gleam of moonlight showed him the worried look on 
Lijah’s dear face, and the weariness too. He needed to sleep. They both 
did. Lijah’s eyelids drooped, but he blinked them open again. 
 
“Tell me.” 
 
Sean put on a reassuring smile for him and gently squeezed his hand. 
“There’s nothing to tell, Lij.” Nothing they hadn’t already talked over too 
many times. They both knew what was what. “I’m just… thinking.” Elijah 
freed the hand he was holding to and slowly raised it to stroke through his 
hair, then drew him back down to that smooth, pale shoulder and gently 
cradled his head. 
 
“You think too much.” 
 
The words hung on the thick air and echoed in his mind. Lijah’s fingers 
skimmed over his stiff, aching shoulders. 
 
“I’m not too young and you’re not too old. No one’s gonna call you an 
evil bastard. You’re not hurting anyone. She doesn’t have to know.” 
 
Sean swallowed at a growing lump in his throat. He couldn’t see himself 
not telling her. Lijah knew that. They’d talked about it. Lijah sighed, his 
fault. It was all his fault. 
 
“Sean… I know. I’m sorry.” 
 
Sean pressed his nose and his lips into the fragrant warmth of Lijah’s 
neck, struggling to find the right thing to say, even knowing there wasn’t 
any way to make it better than it was. He could feel Lijah trying to wake 
himself up so they could talk about it. He took Lijah’s hand from his head 
and leaned back to look at him, determined not to drag them down that 
road again. It was a road that went nowhere. “It’ll be alright, Doodle. Go 
back to sleep.” Lij smiled a little, staring back at him, amusement 
painfully belied by the look of longing and sad regret in those eyes. He felt 
like a slug, felt like something worse than a slug. He felt selfish and 
unworthy, and just gross. And when Lijah reached out for him he couldn’t 
quite bear it. He caught those groping hands in his and held them from 
touching. “Feet at five… ” His voice sounded high and on edge. He forced 
it down a register. “You need to sleep, Lij.” 
 
A breath sharply caught. “And you don’t?” 
 
Sean impulsively leaned forward and touched a shaky kiss to his lips. It 
tasted of salt, the salt of sweat, or tears he’d somehow missed. He 
whispered, “I will, baby.” Lijah pulled both hands free to deliberately lay 
them on his bare chest, and returned the kiss, sweet and teasing. 
 
“Seanie… you going shy on me?” 
 
Sean laughed uncertainly. “No.” Lijah tried burrowing in again, and Sean 
let him, engulfed him in a needful embrace and gave up all resistance, and 
Lijah wrapped around him and snugly filled the emptiness. It wasn’t as if 
Lij hadn’t made clear to him time and time again that it was alright. Lijah 
didn’t see him the way he saw himself. He’d never understand it. He only 
knew he had to hold to it tight for as long as he could. Lijah tucked down 
and nuzzled up under his chin, wriggling in closer still if that was possible, 
making himself comfortable. Sean held him tight. 
 
The moonlight drifted on and left them in darkness. The heat of Elijah’s 
body in his arms sent rivulets of sweat trickling down his sides, but he 
couldn’t let go. Lijah was trembling, heartbeat thrumming. Sean planted a 
tender kiss in his hair and slowly rubbed his back. Talking wouldn’t help. 
They needed to sleep. Lijah stilled at last and sighed once more, breath 
moist and prickling through the hair on his chest, a soft murmur. 
 
“Love you.” 
 
Sean drew in a shaky breath, his eyes stinging, but lay there still just 
staring up at the shadowed ceiling and let Lij fall back to sleep. Was it 
love? Of course it was love. They’d loved each other at first sight, at first 
touch. They’d both known it, and known the other knew it. But was it 
Love? It touched places inside him he hadn’t known were there. It made 
his mind soar and the blood rush in his ears. It filled him with such peace 
and such turmoil he no longer knew which way was up. He’d thought he 
knew Love. Was this just so far beyond what he’d known he couldn’t see 
it for what it was? 
 
He could feel Elijah’s heartbeat between them. The smooth, steady rhythm 
of it gave him something to hang on to. Lijah loved him, and Lijah was his 
to love, for as long as he wanted, for as long as he could. No conditions, 
no demands, no regrets. No regrets? 
 
His heart swelled almost painfully. How could he ever deserve this? How 
would he ever give it up? 
 
It was no wonder he couldn’t sleep.