"Unfiltered" (The Faculty RPS, Elijah/Josh, PG-13)
Title: Unfiltered
Author: sparcck
Fandom: The Faculty RPS
Pairing: Elijah Wood/Josh Hartnett
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Now it's appropriate: I, much to my dismay, do not know anything about the private lives of anyone involved, and I don't really think any of this happened I guess.
Summary: Elijah's young, but he knows what he wants.
Notes: 44 minutes, even after a quick beta and a few touch-ups. It's the Hartnett love. I'm sure you're all tired of my Josh Hartnett obsession, but it doesn't look like there's an end in sight. Wait until I write O fic. *evil cackle*
*
There had been a bit of a restless, post-shoot scuffle five minutes earlier that ended when the four paper sticks in Josh's pocket had ripped open and the sugar had gotten into everything. Elijah inhaled and felt it coat the back of his tongue and get up into his nose, sweet and bitter, and Josh scrunched his forehead down into a pout and said, 'Those were my last ones for the day. You owe me, man, big time.'
"You know Casey likes Zeke," he says now, as they sprawl across the couch in Josh's trailer.
"Don't be an idiot."
"You don't think they're sleeping together?"
"You're a freak, is what I think."
"I'm right, though."
"You wish, is more like."
Josh grins, a sharp shark smile. "Watch out, kids, he bites."
"Asshole." Elijah can't stop his mouth from twitching upwards on one side, because you can't not smile when Josh does.
Josh holds Elijah's eyes for a second longer than Elijah thinks is strictly necessary. But Josh has a habit of doing things like that, and told Elijah after about a week on set, when it was just the two of them, that he's more like Zeke than anyone would ever think. 'You probably know, but I have to say it,' he had said in almost the next breath. 'You have ridiculous fucking eyes.'
'Is that good?'
Josh had put one finger against Elijah's temple and tilted his head to the right. Elijah zoned out, wondering whether Josh's throat would taste like the leather cord he wore half under his shirt, that sometimes left a little friction burn across his jugular, then snapped back to reality when Josh said, very seriously, 'I'm not sure yet.'
Elijah knows this is what Josh is thinking about when he looks at him now. Or it's what Josh wants him to think he's thinking about. He won't look away, though and eventually Josh concedes, looking down to fish his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. "I bet you get away with murder with those things."
"You have no idea."
Josh's lips curve around the cigarette in his mouth and when he cups his hands over the tip to light it, Elijah has a crazy moment of wanting to put his mouth there, just where the cuff of his shirt touches the second knuckle.
He remembered it swiping across his mouth when they had shot the locker room scene that day, and it hadn't been in the script but Zeke had held Casey's hand to his face when he sniffed the powder out of the pen, and suddenly it had been Josh's skin against Elijah's mouth, and Elijah stumbled and forgot his line when the tip of his tongue touched the crease of one knuckle.
Salty and a weird bitter tang, and a touch of sweetness from the pixie stick sugar in the pen. Josh liked to eat them between scenes, and conned the prop guy into giving him a bunch a pixie sticks that he kept in his pocket. There was a dusting on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.
Fuck, Elijah thought, and realized Josh was looking at him then, not Zeke, his eyebrows drawn together and a half smile curling his lip.
Light flares between Josh's fingers, the moment passes, and Elijah remembers that breathing is supposed to be involuntary.
Josh exhales a thin stream of white smoke. "You don't really think Casey and Delilah get it on, do you?" He refuses to smoke outside, says he likes the smell of it in such a small space; everything Josh owns smells of cloves.
Elijah likes that, kind of knows why, but hasn't let himself think it yet. He just knows he likes hanging in Josh's trailer, and Josh seems to like him there, too.
"You can't just give me this one thing, can you?" Elijah says while he's thinking about the warm spicy air in the trailer.
Josh flicks his cigarette into the clay bowl he uses as an ashtray. "Nope."
"Zeke has the whole football team to blow, if that's what he really wants."
"Nah. Been there."
Elijah can't help giggling at that, and Josh bares his teeth and stretches his arms above his head.
Lots of skin, Elijah sees, pale over long muscles, and it looks like it would be warm and firm against his tongue.
Elijah shifts, leaning back against the arm of the couch and pulling his legs up under him, indian-style. "Let's say, hypthetically, they are sleeping with each other. When and why."
Josh tilts his head back and his eyes go to slits. He's rolling the cigarette between his thumb and middle finger, and Elijah wonders if his fingers permanently taste the way cloves smell. Although it seems like something Elijah would rather eat then smoke, and he feels his cheeks go hot when he imagines pulling one long, knobby finger into his mouth.
"Before the movie, I guess. Before everything happens."
"Why?" It's a croak in Elijah's throat, his voice breaking on the word, and Josh smiles a little softer.
"Because he can. Because Casey's small but he has teeth."
"You like a challenge?"
Josh's arm has been curled comfortably over the back of the couch, elbow bent, long hand bringing the cigarette to his mouth. He holds it loosely between his lips and slides close to Elijah, his now free hand brushing lightly over Elijah's shoulder and neck.
"I'm not Zeke."
"And I'm not Casey."
"What are you doing, Elijah?"
Elijah doesn't answer, thinks about crouching under the bus with Josh, not Zeke, between takes, their thighs pressed together and Josh taking a breath to say something and cutting himself off. Sweat on his upper lip that he licked off and Elijah thought he would be earthy instead of salty, but he didn't know why.
'This sucks, huh?' Josh said after a second and leaned into Elijah, pushing his leg back to try to pop his kneecap.
'You're too tall,' Elijah had replied and Josh leaned into him harder, his breath coming against his cheek.
'You love it.'
Josh stares at him now, turns his head slightly to exhale past the cigarette and doesn't break eye contact.
Elijah can taste it in the back of his throat, thick and sweet and mixing with the pixie dust. It makes him feel a little off, a little high maybe, the taste of something like his childhood mixing with this foreign thing that he'd never tasted before; mixing with the sight of Josh, another foreign thing, dark and blunt and almost so plain he was complex again, so different and familiar that Elijah could stare at him forever.
"I'm not Casey."
"Elijah."
"I'm not Casey."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Elijah can feel the heat of the cigarette against his face when Josh slowly takes it out of his mouth and puts the heel of the hand holding it against Elijah's jaw, his fingertips touching four light points across his cheekbone.
When Josh kisses him, warm wet tongue snaking into his mouth, he tastes everything like Elijah thought he would, and he thinks he likes that. The smoke from the cigarette curls around their faces, and Josh breaks away and laughs when Elijah sighs into his mouth and reaches up to take the cigarette away.
"I thought you liked the smell," he rumbles, and plucks it back.
Elijah surprises himself when he says, "I like the taste."
Josh makes a noise in his throat, something almost like pain, his breath hissing between his teeth, and drags Elijah back to him, and "Inhale," he says, pulling in a deep drag; he stubs the cigarette out on the wooden arm of the couch behind Elijah's head and Elijah finds out he's right, even though he wouldn't have known it before two minutes ago.
Better to taste than to inhale, although when Josh seals his mouth to Elijah's, exhaling clove smoke and something earthy and sweet, Elijah thinks he could get used to this, too.
*
Author: sparcck
Fandom: The Faculty RPS
Pairing: Elijah Wood/Josh Hartnett
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Now it's appropriate: I, much to my dismay, do not know anything about the private lives of anyone involved, and I don't really think any of this happened I guess.
Summary: Elijah's young, but he knows what he wants.
Notes: 44 minutes, even after a quick beta and a few touch-ups. It's the Hartnett love. I'm sure you're all tired of my Josh Hartnett obsession, but it doesn't look like there's an end in sight. Wait until I write O fic. *evil cackle*
*
There had been a bit of a restless, post-shoot scuffle five minutes earlier that ended when the four paper sticks in Josh's pocket had ripped open and the sugar had gotten into everything. Elijah inhaled and felt it coat the back of his tongue and get up into his nose, sweet and bitter, and Josh scrunched his forehead down into a pout and said, 'Those were my last ones for the day. You owe me, man, big time.'
"You know Casey likes Zeke," he says now, as they sprawl across the couch in Josh's trailer.
"Don't be an idiot."
"You don't think they're sleeping together?"
"You're a freak, is what I think."
"I'm right, though."
"You wish, is more like."
Josh grins, a sharp shark smile. "Watch out, kids, he bites."
"Asshole." Elijah can't stop his mouth from twitching upwards on one side, because you can't not smile when Josh does.
Josh holds Elijah's eyes for a second longer than Elijah thinks is strictly necessary. But Josh has a habit of doing things like that, and told Elijah after about a week on set, when it was just the two of them, that he's more like Zeke than anyone would ever think. 'You probably know, but I have to say it,' he had said in almost the next breath. 'You have ridiculous fucking eyes.'
'Is that good?'
Josh had put one finger against Elijah's temple and tilted his head to the right. Elijah zoned out, wondering whether Josh's throat would taste like the leather cord he wore half under his shirt, that sometimes left a little friction burn across his jugular, then snapped back to reality when Josh said, very seriously, 'I'm not sure yet.'
Elijah knows this is what Josh is thinking about when he looks at him now. Or it's what Josh wants him to think he's thinking about. He won't look away, though and eventually Josh concedes, looking down to fish his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. "I bet you get away with murder with those things."
"You have no idea."
Josh's lips curve around the cigarette in his mouth and when he cups his hands over the tip to light it, Elijah has a crazy moment of wanting to put his mouth there, just where the cuff of his shirt touches the second knuckle.
He remembered it swiping across his mouth when they had shot the locker room scene that day, and it hadn't been in the script but Zeke had held Casey's hand to his face when he sniffed the powder out of the pen, and suddenly it had been Josh's skin against Elijah's mouth, and Elijah stumbled and forgot his line when the tip of his tongue touched the crease of one knuckle.
Salty and a weird bitter tang, and a touch of sweetness from the pixie stick sugar in the pen. Josh liked to eat them between scenes, and conned the prop guy into giving him a bunch a pixie sticks that he kept in his pocket. There was a dusting on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.
Fuck, Elijah thought, and realized Josh was looking at him then, not Zeke, his eyebrows drawn together and a half smile curling his lip.
Light flares between Josh's fingers, the moment passes, and Elijah remembers that breathing is supposed to be involuntary.
Josh exhales a thin stream of white smoke. "You don't really think Casey and Delilah get it on, do you?" He refuses to smoke outside, says he likes the smell of it in such a small space; everything Josh owns smells of cloves.
Elijah likes that, kind of knows why, but hasn't let himself think it yet. He just knows he likes hanging in Josh's trailer, and Josh seems to like him there, too.
"You can't just give me this one thing, can you?" Elijah says while he's thinking about the warm spicy air in the trailer.
Josh flicks his cigarette into the clay bowl he uses as an ashtray. "Nope."
"Zeke has the whole football team to blow, if that's what he really wants."
"Nah. Been there."
Elijah can't help giggling at that, and Josh bares his teeth and stretches his arms above his head.
Lots of skin, Elijah sees, pale over long muscles, and it looks like it would be warm and firm against his tongue.
Elijah shifts, leaning back against the arm of the couch and pulling his legs up under him, indian-style. "Let's say, hypthetically, they are sleeping with each other. When and why."
Josh tilts his head back and his eyes go to slits. He's rolling the cigarette between his thumb and middle finger, and Elijah wonders if his fingers permanently taste the way cloves smell. Although it seems like something Elijah would rather eat then smoke, and he feels his cheeks go hot when he imagines pulling one long, knobby finger into his mouth.
"Before the movie, I guess. Before everything happens."
"Why?" It's a croak in Elijah's throat, his voice breaking on the word, and Josh smiles a little softer.
"Because he can. Because Casey's small but he has teeth."
"You like a challenge?"
Josh's arm has been curled comfortably over the back of the couch, elbow bent, long hand bringing the cigarette to his mouth. He holds it loosely between his lips and slides close to Elijah, his now free hand brushing lightly over Elijah's shoulder and neck.
"I'm not Zeke."
"And I'm not Casey."
"What are you doing, Elijah?"
Elijah doesn't answer, thinks about crouching under the bus with Josh, not Zeke, between takes, their thighs pressed together and Josh taking a breath to say something and cutting himself off. Sweat on his upper lip that he licked off and Elijah thought he would be earthy instead of salty, but he didn't know why.
'This sucks, huh?' Josh said after a second and leaned into Elijah, pushing his leg back to try to pop his kneecap.
'You're too tall,' Elijah had replied and Josh leaned into him harder, his breath coming against his cheek.
'You love it.'
Josh stares at him now, turns his head slightly to exhale past the cigarette and doesn't break eye contact.
Elijah can taste it in the back of his throat, thick and sweet and mixing with the pixie dust. It makes him feel a little off, a little high maybe, the taste of something like his childhood mixing with this foreign thing that he'd never tasted before; mixing with the sight of Josh, another foreign thing, dark and blunt and almost so plain he was complex again, so different and familiar that Elijah could stare at him forever.
"I'm not Casey."
"Elijah."
"I'm not Casey."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Elijah can feel the heat of the cigarette against his face when Josh slowly takes it out of his mouth and puts the heel of the hand holding it against Elijah's jaw, his fingertips touching four light points across his cheekbone.
When Josh kisses him, warm wet tongue snaking into his mouth, he tastes everything like Elijah thought he would, and he thinks he likes that. The smoke from the cigarette curls around their faces, and Josh breaks away and laughs when Elijah sighs into his mouth and reaches up to take the cigarette away.
"I thought you liked the smell," he rumbles, and plucks it back.
Elijah surprises himself when he says, "I like the taste."
Josh makes a noise in his throat, something almost like pain, his breath hissing between his teeth, and drags Elijah back to him, and "Inhale," he says, pulling in a deep drag; he stubs the cigarette out on the wooden arm of the couch behind Elijah's head and Elijah finds out he's right, even though he wouldn't have known it before two minutes ago.
Better to taste than to inhale, although when Josh seals his mouth to Elijah's, exhaling clove smoke and something earthy and sweet, Elijah thinks he could get used to this, too.
*