FIC: Toronto - Date Night - Sean and Elijah - PG - Sequel to 'Toronto'
Title: Toronto - Date Night
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sean and Elijah
Summary: It's date night and they're feeling both anxiety and hope. After their devastating conversation in Toronto, can their relationship be made whole again?
Author's Notes: I'm very blessed to have the most wonderful editor in the world as my beta. abandonada makes every story I write better, not just with her editing skills, but also with her love for the boys, her knowledge of who they are, and her deep understanding of their relationship.
Disclaimer:This story is a work of satirical fantasy about public figures.It is completely fictional. I make no assertions about the actual private life or the sexual orientation of any person mentioned in this work.
- Toronto - Date Night -
It was getting late. They and one other couple were the only ones left in the restaurant. The staff was moving here and there with cleaning supplies, clearly wanting to finish up and close, and yet the two of them continued to sit, silent and unmoving, looking at each other as if each of them was waiting for the other to speak.
There hadn't been much conversation when Sean picked him up, just a brief hello and a nod. He had waited patiently for Elijah to fasten his seatbelt then had driven to the restaurant, all in complete silence. He was nervous as hell and had determined a strategy for this dinner, which revolved around his belief that the less he said the better off he'd be.
If Elijah noticed his low-key approach he did not comment on it, but he had laughed over the boutonniere. Sean had handed it to him once they were seated, and for a moment Elijah had simply stared. "You serious with this?"
"I knew you'd laugh. But I had to."
Elijah pulled it from its plastic container and gazed at it, bemused. "For fuck's sake, why?"
"Because this is a date," Sean replied firmly, and Elijah laughed again. Then he stopped laughing and fastened the white flower to the lapel of his jacket.
"Well, I'm not dressed up enough for a boutonniere, but... OK." He pointed to the blossom. "Now it's an official date."
Elijah had leaned slightly forward when he said this last phrase, and his voice had dropped to a lower register that seemed to suggest an affectionate familiarity. And Sean flushed and lowered his eyes, embarrassed by the rush of warmth that spread through him at even such a small gesture hinting at closeness between them.
He tried not to stare during dinner, but at times it was a struggle, and he bit his lip from the effort to rein in his feelings. Elijah was dressed casually in jeans, a brown cotton shirt, and a navy blue corduroy jacket. His scuffed, leather man-bag lay propped against the legs of his chair. He was Elijah at his most informal, but none of that mattered. Sean longed for this man with every fiber of his being.
He had no idea at this point where he stood with Elijah. They had not talked since their meeting in Toronto, a meeting that Sean would always remember as a low point in his life. He was convinced that he would never be able to withstand another arctic-cold reaction from this man whom he loved so deeply. He was certain it would create an emotional tsunami within himself, sure to have disastrous consequences. And he was mortally afraid.
So far though, Elijah's treatment of him had been cautiously neutral. With the exception of the one moment with the boutonniere there had been neither rejection nor acceptance in his tone. They were simply two longtime acquaintances catching up over dinner.
Sean wasn't sure why they lingered so long after finishing, but he refused to be the first to suggest leaving. He was fearful that Elijah would want to be taken straight home and reluctant to give up this time with him without making the most of every possible moment.
Finally Elijah sighed. "Maybe we'd better talk about the oliphaunt in the middle of the room."
Sean glanced at him quickly. "Yeah? Truth to tell I was just as happy not talking about it." But he straightened and leaned toward Elijah, staring at him over the table's centerpiece. "You start."
"Sean, we don't have to discuss any of this. I just thought-"
"You start," Sean said again. "Ignore me. I'm just scared."
"Of what, for fuck's sake?"
"Of another encounter like the last one we had." He glanced down at the table then back up at Elijah. "You want honesty, so here it is. I don't think I could endure another conversation like our last one. I'd simply go off somewhere and wither into nothingness."
Elijah nodded. "I understand. And I can safely assure you that this conversation will be more cordial than the last one."
"Thank Christ! Because the last one nearly killed me."
For a moment Elijah's eyes flashed with the icy glacial-blue that had pierced Sean's heart in Toronto. "That's what it was meant to do, Sean. The way it was between us had to die. And you had to know that beyond the shadow of any fucking doubt what-so-fucking-ever."
"Trust me," Sean replied softly. "I got it." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then he spoke again. "You start."
"How was it when you got home?"
Sean gave a short derisive laugh. "About as pleasant as our conversation in Toronto."
"I'm sorry, Sean."
Sean shrugged. "Don't be. She was pissed way before I left to meet up with you guys. She's pissed anytime I'm going to be anywhere near you."
"Why?"
Sean flushed and lowered his head. "I don't want to tell you."
"Well now you HAVE to tell me."
Sean still stared down at the tabletop. "OK. In a moment of weakness in the middle of a horrendous argument..." he drew a deep breath and looked up. "... I told her about us."
"You WHAT??! You fucking idiot!"
"Tell me about it."
"Sean, how could you?" He stared into Sean's eyes for a moment in obvious disgust, then picked up his napkin and threw it to the table. "What the hell was the point to THAT?"
"How the fuck do I know, Elijah?" Sean replied just as heatedly. "Point? There WAS no point! There was just the moment and the fight and you KNOW I don't do well with intense emotion and it just came OUT!"
He reached his hand hesitantly toward Elijah who stared silently over toward the wall, but then withdrew it slowly before he saw the gesture. "I've never regretted anything more," Sean said at last. "And I've paid a heavy price for it if that's any consolation to you."
"Why the hell would that console me?" Elijah asked him. "You think I want you to be miserable?"
"No. I don't. And I apologize, Elijah. It was a betrayal of your trust, and it never should have happened."
"Ya THINK?" Elijah asked shortly, his face still turned to the wall.
Sean could see that his friend's hands were trembling. "Elijah," he said softly. "Please don't. Please. It was a mistake. I admit that. Don't punish me for it anymore than I've already been punished... anymore than I've punished myself."
"Let's go," Elijah said suddenly, rising from his chair.
Sean gasped and bolted to his feet, sure that Elijah was angry and asking to be taken home. He felt his heart leap in his chest. "Go?" he asked, his voice quavering. "Lij, please..." He held out his hand in appeal.
"I meant let's go to my place," Elijah explained, throwing some money onto the table. "Finish talking there. I don't want to do this in public anymore."
Sean groped for the tabletop and slumped against it for a moment in stunned relief, then he picked up the money Elijah had thrown there and held it out to him. "Date, remember? I pay."
"Like it fucking matters now," Elijah replied. But when Sean continued to stand in stubborn silence holding out the money, Elijah took it and shoved it into his pocket. "OK, fine. Date. Let's go."
Sean yearned to speak as he drove to Elijah's house, but his friend had turned slightly away from him in the passenger seat and was staring fixedly out the window. His demeanor did not invite conversation, and Sean forced himself into silence.
The moment they entered, Elijah waved Sean to a chair and walked into the kitchen only to return moments later with his jacket gone and a beer in each hand. He handed one to Sean then fell backwards onto his couch and reclined there propped against some pillows.
"OK," he said, his voice determined. "So now she hates the very mention of my name. Go on. What happened when you got home?"
"Elijah, I'm sorry," Sean said miserably. He was sure that telling Elijah about his impulsive confession to Chris had ruined everything.
"Let's just move past it," Elijah said quickly. "I wish you hadn't done it, but I understand how it could have happened." He waved his hand encouragingly. "Go on."
Relieved, Sean leaned forward in the chair. "We fought of course. She'd been pissed that I was going in the first place. She was even more pissed when I insisted on going alone. So yeah. She'd been primed for a fight since before I left."
"What did she say?"
"She asked questions and demanded honest answers, then when I gave them to her she got more pissed off than ever."
"What questions?"
"'Did you see him?' 'Did you kiss him' 'Did you make love to him?' And on and on like that."
"And you were honest."
"Yes. I told her that of course I saw you since the whole point to going was a Hobbit reunion. I told her that I kissed your cheek twice and that I did not make love to you." He took a long swig of his beer. "Then she asked the question I'd been dreading."
"Which was..."
"Did you WANT to make love to him?"
"And you said..." Elijah encouraged.
"I told her the truth. I told her I was sorry, but yes, I did want to make love to you. I told her that I'd hoped I wouldn't want to. That I'd hoped things had changed. But they hadn't."
Elijah tried to speak, but Sean continued in a rush.
"Then she asked me why I hadn't gone to bed with you since I wanted to so badly and I told her 'Because he didn't want me. He didn't want anything to do with me.'"
"Ouch," Elijah murmured, wincing.
"Yeah," Sean said dryly. "And you know what she said to that?"
"I can't imagine."
"She said 'Good for Elijah!'"
The two men stared at each other for a long moment, then burst into simultaneous laughter. "Jesus!" Elijah choked. "She's shoots... she SCORES!"
"No shit!" Sean agreed, chuckling. "Laid me low with that one." He took another swallow of beer, and then shook his head. "And if you liked that, you'll LOVE this. As she walked out of the room she turned and said: 'Elijah doesn't want you. And right now, Sean, neither do I.'"
"Wow," Elijah murmured. "Well, OK. I gotta give that round to Chris."
"And again, I say 'No shit'!" Sean murmured in agreement.
"Why would you want to leave a woman with that much class?" Elijah inquired softly.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious!"
Sean shook his head, staring at his friend in wide-eyed amazement. "For fuck's sweet sake, Elijah. I want to leave because I'm not in love with her anymore. I'm in love with YOU!"
"That's not true," Elijah told him bluntly. "The truth, Sean, is that you DON'T want to leave. If you did you would have by now. You told me what you wanted in Toronto. You want to have both of us, and you want both of us to be OK with that."
"That's what I said in Toronto. But that is no longer true."
"No?"
"No."
"So what's Sean Astin's truth now?"
"I'm not sure Sean Astin has one anymore."
Elijah chuckled. "Well, that would certainly be the safer position."
"When I'm dealing with YOU!"
"Or your wife, apparently."
"Yeah. Or my wife."
"How's your beer?"
"It's fine," Sean said quickly, setting the bottle on a nearby table. "Look, Elijah. I'm not going to say I don't love Chris. I do. I probably always will. Why wouldn't I? As you pointed out, she's a classy lady. She's my friend and the mother of my children. But, don't you see, that's just it!!"
"What's just it?"
"I was there with them. With her and the girls. In the bosom of my family so to speak."
"Was this before or after she said she didn't want you either?"
"After."
"So you're still speaking?"
"We're..." Sean drew the word out thoughtfully "... communicating. But things are not friendly, and I've been sleeping in the guest room."
"Was that her idea or yours?"
"It wasn't really discussed. I just went there on the first night, and on the second night I found all my clothes had been moved there."
Elijah made a finger gesture as if writing a number on a scoreboard.
"You keeping score?"
"Maybe. And if I am, you're getting your ass handed to you, son."
Sean scoffed softly. "Well, that's always been the case."
"Go on."
"With what?"
"You were saying 'that's just IT'. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah. Well, that's just it. I'm there with them. We're sitting around the family room in the evening, and the girls are there and even with the weirdness it's still relatively normal and familiar. And I should be happy... or at least feeling OK."
"But..."
"But even then, Elijah. Even then. I knew I didn't belong there anymore. I knew it."
Elijah pursed his lips and blew out a long sigh. "Whew. That has to hurt."
"It's just horribly sad."
"Did she ask for a divorce?"
"No, but she told me I should feel free to get one if I wanted one."
"Big of her."
"Yeah," Sean said dryly. "That's what I thought."
"What was said about us?" He moved his index finger back and forth between himself and Sean. "I mean about you and me."
"Not much. I mentioned that you were as disgusted with me as she was, and she told me she didn't want to hear it. She said she would not go on playing second fiddle to - to you."
"To what, Sean? What did she really say?"
"She said just that. Her exact words were: 'I won't go on playing second fiddle to a - to him'."
"To which you said..."
"I told her she wasn't playing second fiddle, that this wasn't a contest, and that I loved you both."
"Uh oh."
"Yeah, that was a mistake."
"No shit, Sherlock," Elijah said, laughing. "Are you aware that your foot and your mouth have this incredibly dysfunctional relationship?"
Sean grunted, nodding. "You don't know the half of it." He grabbed his beer again and drank a long swallow. "I apologized of course, but the damage was done. She was furious. Suggested that maybe she get Tuesdays, Thursdays, and alternate weekends."
"Then turned on her heel and walked out of the room?"
"Something like that."
"No one could write anything this good. It would make a great movie."
"More like a great soap opera."
"You have a point. So where does she think you are tonight?"
"Here with you."
"Seriously?"
"I'm done lying, Elijah. I told her we were going to dinner and that we might talk afterward."
"And she said..."
"Well, what do you think? She gave me a disgusted look and said, 'Oh, SURE. Talk. Right.'"
Elijah laughed.
"I pointed out to her that you didn't want to do anything more than talk even if I DID."
Elijah laughed even harder. "Oh my god, you just can't stop yourself can you?"
"I know. I should have my tongue surgically removed."
"And THEN she turned on her heel and walked out of the room."
"STALKED out of it would be more accurate." Sean sighed. "Thing is, I know her. Under all this huffy anger, she's suffering. She's too damn prideful to let me see it."
"An admirable woman."
"You keep pointing that out."
"I'm not interested in a relationship with you, Sean, that involves us doing a celebratory dance over your wife's broken and battered body. You will never hear me bad-mouthing Chris. You'd be a fool to leave her. That's my two cents."
"I want to be with you, Elijah."
"Then why AREN'T you?" Elijah sat up suddenly and took a long pull of his beer. "YOU drove us here tonight, ass-hat," he snapped, pointing at Sean with his beer bottle. "So obviously you know where I live. If you wanted to be with me so badly, why didn't you just drive here and ASK to be with me?"
"When last I saw you, you didn't want any part of me!"
"No. Not true, Sean. When last you saw me I said you had to 'woo' me. I said you had to prove I could trust you. How does that translate into ignoring me from then until now? I didn't say: 'Don't ask me to be with you.'"
"You told me not to ask ANY questions."
"Then don't ask! TELL! Drive to my house and TELL me that you want to be with me! Did you do that?"
"No."
"No. You didn't. So kindly don't come here now singing your 'I love you and want to be with you' song."
"Elijah, it's not an easy thing to do."
"Stop right there. We've been having this conversation for TEN FUCKING YEARS!" Elijah stormed, each word a hammer blow. "Ten years, Sean! Actually more like eleven years now! No one ever suggested it would be 'easy' or that you take some fast and casual route out of your marriage, so spare me. But no matter HOW fucking hard it is you've had ELEVEN YEARS!"
Sean stared silently at his hands.
"If you haven't done it by now, Sean, you might want to consider whether or not you really want to do it at all. Maybe you should just go home to your family, live the life you've chosen, and forget about me."
"Don't say that."
"I AM saying it. And you had better be hearing it."
"Elijah, you promised me you wouldn't talk to me this way again."
"I don't want to hurt you, Sean. But you're starting to do that stupid dance again. Handing me that 'but I'm a good husband and father' dodge. Elijah, it's not an easy thing to dooooooo," he mimicked in a whiney voice. "We talked about this in Toronto, remember?"
Sean nodded.
"You don't get to be a good husband and father if you want a life with me. Sorry. You can't have both. Make up your mind. Don't say you want to be with me then imply with everything you say and do that it's not going to happen until you're 70 and walking with a cane because I'm not going to do it!"
His voice grew steadily louder and more irate, and his last six words were a half-shout that drove Sean back against the chair.
"OK," Sean said softly. "Jesus, Elijah, OK."
"I'm not playing this game anymore," Elijah said, more softly. Then he sighed and looked over at his friend. Sean had leaned forward in the chair and lowered his face into his hands.
With a sigh Elijah got up and knelt before him. He pulled Sean's hands down then cradled his friend's face in his two palms and whispered: "Seanie, maybe it's time to say goodbye. Go home to them. Maybe you need to admit that they are your life." He kissed Sean's lips tenderly then whispered again: "Let me go."
Sean stared into the cobalt-blue eyes feeling his own eyes slowly filling with searing tears. "No," he said, his voice thick and trembling. "No!"
Elijah sighed and released him. He sat back on his heels and shook his head. "I think you're just refusing to see what you really want, Sean."
"YOU are what I really want!" Sean declared, reaching forward to grasp Elijah's shoulders.
Elijah began to speak again, but Sean shook him gently. "No! Listen to me!"
Elijah shrugged and sighed. "OK. I'm listening."
"I get it," Sean told him, drawing him up closer. "I know. I can't be a good husband and father if I want a life with you. The two things are totally incompatible. I'm going to have to hurt them if I want to be with you. I'm going to have to be a..." he released Elijah and drew fake quotation marks in the air "... 'bad husband and father', at least for awhile."
He reached down and captured Elijah's hands in his. "But you're wrong to think that because it hasn't happened yet, it's not what I want. It IS what I want!" He shook his head, staring past their joined hands down to the floor. "I've just been so... scared."
"I know, Sean."
Sean looked up at him questioningly.
"Of course I know," Elijah said quietly. "Life with them represents family and protection and security and safety. It represents a role you've played to perfection for a very long time."
Sean gave him a small smile.
"Life with me," Elijah continued, "represents the unknown. It represents chaos and change on an unimaginable scale, and these are things that you have feared your whole life."
Sean's eyes widened and tears slid down his face, but Elijah reached up and gently wiped them away. "You need to let me go, Seanie. For you. For them. For me."
Sean stared into his eyes for what seemed like forever. There was utter silence between them. Then slowly he drew in a deep, trembling breath. "Never," he told Elijah in a choked off whisper. "Fucking never, Elijah."
Elijah stared at him half in surprise, half in confusion.
"Not if we have to have ten thousand conversations like the one in Toronto," Sean told him, his voice breaking. "Not if we fight until we're both broken and bloody. Not - not if it breaks my back and heart."
Recognizing the words, a small smile crossed Elijah's lips.
"Not now, Elijah," Sean continued. "And not fucking ever. I will never let you go." He sat up straighter and lifted Elijah's hand to his lips. "I'm sorry about what that might put us through. Truly I am. I'm sorry about what it will put my family through. But I don't have a choice about it. I love you with my whole heart. And I will never willingly relinquish what that's given me. I simply can't, Elijah."
Elijah seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he shook his head and pulled his hands free from Sean's grip. "You may not have a choice. I won't go on the way it's been, Sean. I can't."
Sean nodded. "I understand. You won't have to. Just please, Elijah. Please give me a little more time."
Elijah began to speak but Sean quickly interrupted him, "I know. You've already waited too long. I know that. And I'm sorry. I promise you from my heart that I won't ask you to wait much longer. I swear it."
Elijah regarded him dubiously. "Sean, I've heard all this before."
"I know."
"I'm not going to promise you anything."
"OK. That's fair."
"You might come back and find out I don't want it anymore."
"I understand."
A quizzical look crossed Elijah's face. "What are you plotting?"
"Nothing!" Sean assured him. His hands slid up Elijah's arms and gripped his shoulders. "I'm not plotting a thing. At this point all I'm doing is hoping." He tried to draw Elijah toward him, but his friend resisted.
"No, Seanie," he murmured, pulling away slightly. "We're not gonna do that."
But Sean only tightened his grip. "I just want a kiss. I wasn't gonna jump you or anything."
"You should go home. It's late. I don't want her to worry."
Sean smiled gently. "And you wonder why I won't let you go?"
Elijah pointed at his watch. "Spare me the sappy bullshit, and just scram."
But once again Sean drew him gently forward. "One kiss?" he begged, his voice soft with appeal.
Elijah rolled his eyes in fake exasperation. "Oh for heaven's sake, fine." He reluctantly gave in to the steady pull of Sean's hands on his shoulders and yielded to his embrace. At once he felt Sean's lips press hungrily to his, kissing him with a fierce passion that took Elijah's breath and melted his body with waves of desire.
Unable to stop, he lost himself in the familiar warmth of Sean's embrace. As if from a great distance, he heard Sean moan softly, heard his own breathing growing ragged as their kiss grew deeper… more intimate. Frantically, he tore his lips away and tried to pull free, but Sean's arms tightened, crushing Elijah's body against his, as he buried his face in Elijah's neck.
For a timeless moment they clung to each other as if they could never let go, then drawing on his last bit of strength, Elijah wrenched himself free. "Get the fuck outta here, Sean," he growled softly. "Go on. Get!"
Sean drew back slowly drawing a tremulous breath, then gradually stood, drawing Elijah up with him. "Can I call you tomorrow?" he whispered.
"Call anytime you like. I never said you couldn't call."
"Can I see you tomorrow? Even just for lunch? Or dinner?"
"Can't. I have stuff tomorrow. Though..." he paused, considering. "I could do breakfast if you're up for that."
A smile broke across Sean's face, and to Elijah it seemed like the sun breaking from behind grey clouds.
"Can I pick you up at nine?" Sean asked.
"Yes, you can."
"You seem to have repealed the law forbidding me to ask questions," Sean observed with a wink.
Elijah laughed. "Don't push your luck, dude."
Sean laughed too and touched his cheek. "I love you," he murmured. Then he turned to go. "See you in the morning."
Elijah shadowed his steps, shoving him gently toward the door. "Get!" he ordered again.
Sean turned, his hand on the knob. "Lij, are we - maybe - better?" he asked hesitantly.
Elijah seemed to consider this for a moment. "We've taken one baby step," he said finally. "But we're still a long way from home. And Sean?"
"Yeah?"
"Remember what you said about the suffering underneath the anger. Whatever you do... do as little harm as possible in the process, OK?"
Sean nodded then touched his fingers to his lips in salute and left.
Elijah leaned against the closed door, trembling. He listened as Sean's car started. He listened as it drove away. Then he sighed. He had no idea how to define what he was feeling at this moment. He knew that deep down he was just as afraid as Sean of the changes that would come if they began a life together. He knew it would alter every aspect of their lives.
He slowly climbed the stairs to his room. I still don't trust him, he thought sadly. I still think there's a good chance he'll bail on me just like he always has. "
But Sean's kiss had been devastating. When he'd felt those arms tighten around him, he had teetered on the brink of surrender, drawn irresistibly to the warmth and protection he always felt when Sean held him close. He wondered briefly if any embrace other than his could ever give him the same feeling of utter security. Then he sighed and began to undress.
"I wish I'd told him that I loved him too," he whispered regretfully. "Well... maybe tomorrow."
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sean and Elijah
Summary: It's date night and they're feeling both anxiety and hope. After their devastating conversation in Toronto, can their relationship be made whole again?
Author's Notes: I'm very blessed to have the most wonderful editor in the world as my beta. abandonada makes every story I write better, not just with her editing skills, but also with her love for the boys, her knowledge of who they are, and her deep understanding of their relationship.
Disclaimer:This story is a work of satirical fantasy about public figures.It is completely fictional. I make no assertions about the actual private life or the sexual orientation of any person mentioned in this work.
- Toronto - Date Night -
It was getting late. They and one other couple were the only ones left in the restaurant. The staff was moving here and there with cleaning supplies, clearly wanting to finish up and close, and yet the two of them continued to sit, silent and unmoving, looking at each other as if each of them was waiting for the other to speak.
There hadn't been much conversation when Sean picked him up, just a brief hello and a nod. He had waited patiently for Elijah to fasten his seatbelt then had driven to the restaurant, all in complete silence. He was nervous as hell and had determined a strategy for this dinner, which revolved around his belief that the less he said the better off he'd be.
If Elijah noticed his low-key approach he did not comment on it, but he had laughed over the boutonniere. Sean had handed it to him once they were seated, and for a moment Elijah had simply stared. "You serious with this?"
"I knew you'd laugh. But I had to."
Elijah pulled it from its plastic container and gazed at it, bemused. "For fuck's sake, why?"
"Because this is a date," Sean replied firmly, and Elijah laughed again. Then he stopped laughing and fastened the white flower to the lapel of his jacket.
"Well, I'm not dressed up enough for a boutonniere, but... OK." He pointed to the blossom. "Now it's an official date."
Elijah had leaned slightly forward when he said this last phrase, and his voice had dropped to a lower register that seemed to suggest an affectionate familiarity. And Sean flushed and lowered his eyes, embarrassed by the rush of warmth that spread through him at even such a small gesture hinting at closeness between them.
He tried not to stare during dinner, but at times it was a struggle, and he bit his lip from the effort to rein in his feelings. Elijah was dressed casually in jeans, a brown cotton shirt, and a navy blue corduroy jacket. His scuffed, leather man-bag lay propped against the legs of his chair. He was Elijah at his most informal, but none of that mattered. Sean longed for this man with every fiber of his being.
He had no idea at this point where he stood with Elijah. They had not talked since their meeting in Toronto, a meeting that Sean would always remember as a low point in his life. He was convinced that he would never be able to withstand another arctic-cold reaction from this man whom he loved so deeply. He was certain it would create an emotional tsunami within himself, sure to have disastrous consequences. And he was mortally afraid.
So far though, Elijah's treatment of him had been cautiously neutral. With the exception of the one moment with the boutonniere there had been neither rejection nor acceptance in his tone. They were simply two longtime acquaintances catching up over dinner.
Sean wasn't sure why they lingered so long after finishing, but he refused to be the first to suggest leaving. He was fearful that Elijah would want to be taken straight home and reluctant to give up this time with him without making the most of every possible moment.
Finally Elijah sighed. "Maybe we'd better talk about the oliphaunt in the middle of the room."
Sean glanced at him quickly. "Yeah? Truth to tell I was just as happy not talking about it." But he straightened and leaned toward Elijah, staring at him over the table's centerpiece. "You start."
"Sean, we don't have to discuss any of this. I just thought-"
"You start," Sean said again. "Ignore me. I'm just scared."
"Of what, for fuck's sake?"
"Of another encounter like the last one we had." He glanced down at the table then back up at Elijah. "You want honesty, so here it is. I don't think I could endure another conversation like our last one. I'd simply go off somewhere and wither into nothingness."
Elijah nodded. "I understand. And I can safely assure you that this conversation will be more cordial than the last one."
"Thank Christ! Because the last one nearly killed me."
For a moment Elijah's eyes flashed with the icy glacial-blue that had pierced Sean's heart in Toronto. "That's what it was meant to do, Sean. The way it was between us had to die. And you had to know that beyond the shadow of any fucking doubt what-so-fucking-ever."
"Trust me," Sean replied softly. "I got it." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then he spoke again. "You start."
"How was it when you got home?"
Sean gave a short derisive laugh. "About as pleasant as our conversation in Toronto."
"I'm sorry, Sean."
Sean shrugged. "Don't be. She was pissed way before I left to meet up with you guys. She's pissed anytime I'm going to be anywhere near you."
"Why?"
Sean flushed and lowered his head. "I don't want to tell you."
"Well now you HAVE to tell me."
Sean still stared down at the tabletop. "OK. In a moment of weakness in the middle of a horrendous argument..." he drew a deep breath and looked up. "... I told her about us."
"You WHAT??! You fucking idiot!"
"Tell me about it."
"Sean, how could you?" He stared into Sean's eyes for a moment in obvious disgust, then picked up his napkin and threw it to the table. "What the hell was the point to THAT?"
"How the fuck do I know, Elijah?" Sean replied just as heatedly. "Point? There WAS no point! There was just the moment and the fight and you KNOW I don't do well with intense emotion and it just came OUT!"
He reached his hand hesitantly toward Elijah who stared silently over toward the wall, but then withdrew it slowly before he saw the gesture. "I've never regretted anything more," Sean said at last. "And I've paid a heavy price for it if that's any consolation to you."
"Why the hell would that console me?" Elijah asked him. "You think I want you to be miserable?"
"No. I don't. And I apologize, Elijah. It was a betrayal of your trust, and it never should have happened."
"Ya THINK?" Elijah asked shortly, his face still turned to the wall.
Sean could see that his friend's hands were trembling. "Elijah," he said softly. "Please don't. Please. It was a mistake. I admit that. Don't punish me for it anymore than I've already been punished... anymore than I've punished myself."
"Let's go," Elijah said suddenly, rising from his chair.
Sean gasped and bolted to his feet, sure that Elijah was angry and asking to be taken home. He felt his heart leap in his chest. "Go?" he asked, his voice quavering. "Lij, please..." He held out his hand in appeal.
"I meant let's go to my place," Elijah explained, throwing some money onto the table. "Finish talking there. I don't want to do this in public anymore."
Sean groped for the tabletop and slumped against it for a moment in stunned relief, then he picked up the money Elijah had thrown there and held it out to him. "Date, remember? I pay."
"Like it fucking matters now," Elijah replied. But when Sean continued to stand in stubborn silence holding out the money, Elijah took it and shoved it into his pocket. "OK, fine. Date. Let's go."
Sean yearned to speak as he drove to Elijah's house, but his friend had turned slightly away from him in the passenger seat and was staring fixedly out the window. His demeanor did not invite conversation, and Sean forced himself into silence.
The moment they entered, Elijah waved Sean to a chair and walked into the kitchen only to return moments later with his jacket gone and a beer in each hand. He handed one to Sean then fell backwards onto his couch and reclined there propped against some pillows.
"OK," he said, his voice determined. "So now she hates the very mention of my name. Go on. What happened when you got home?"
"Elijah, I'm sorry," Sean said miserably. He was sure that telling Elijah about his impulsive confession to Chris had ruined everything.
"Let's just move past it," Elijah said quickly. "I wish you hadn't done it, but I understand how it could have happened." He waved his hand encouragingly. "Go on."
Relieved, Sean leaned forward in the chair. "We fought of course. She'd been pissed that I was going in the first place. She was even more pissed when I insisted on going alone. So yeah. She'd been primed for a fight since before I left."
"What did she say?"
"She asked questions and demanded honest answers, then when I gave them to her she got more pissed off than ever."
"What questions?"
"'Did you see him?' 'Did you kiss him' 'Did you make love to him?' And on and on like that."
"And you were honest."
"Yes. I told her that of course I saw you since the whole point to going was a Hobbit reunion. I told her that I kissed your cheek twice and that I did not make love to you." He took a long swig of his beer. "Then she asked the question I'd been dreading."
"Which was..."
"Did you WANT to make love to him?"
"And you said..." Elijah encouraged.
"I told her the truth. I told her I was sorry, but yes, I did want to make love to you. I told her that I'd hoped I wouldn't want to. That I'd hoped things had changed. But they hadn't."
Elijah tried to speak, but Sean continued in a rush.
"Then she asked me why I hadn't gone to bed with you since I wanted to so badly and I told her 'Because he didn't want me. He didn't want anything to do with me.'"
"Ouch," Elijah murmured, wincing.
"Yeah," Sean said dryly. "And you know what she said to that?"
"I can't imagine."
"She said 'Good for Elijah!'"
The two men stared at each other for a long moment, then burst into simultaneous laughter. "Jesus!" Elijah choked. "She's shoots... she SCORES!"
"No shit!" Sean agreed, chuckling. "Laid me low with that one." He took another swallow of beer, and then shook his head. "And if you liked that, you'll LOVE this. As she walked out of the room she turned and said: 'Elijah doesn't want you. And right now, Sean, neither do I.'"
"Wow," Elijah murmured. "Well, OK. I gotta give that round to Chris."
"And again, I say 'No shit'!" Sean murmured in agreement.
"Why would you want to leave a woman with that much class?" Elijah inquired softly.
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious!"
Sean shook his head, staring at his friend in wide-eyed amazement. "For fuck's sweet sake, Elijah. I want to leave because I'm not in love with her anymore. I'm in love with YOU!"
"That's not true," Elijah told him bluntly. "The truth, Sean, is that you DON'T want to leave. If you did you would have by now. You told me what you wanted in Toronto. You want to have both of us, and you want both of us to be OK with that."
"That's what I said in Toronto. But that is no longer true."
"No?"
"No."
"So what's Sean Astin's truth now?"
"I'm not sure Sean Astin has one anymore."
Elijah chuckled. "Well, that would certainly be the safer position."
"When I'm dealing with YOU!"
"Or your wife, apparently."
"Yeah. Or my wife."
"How's your beer?"
"It's fine," Sean said quickly, setting the bottle on a nearby table. "Look, Elijah. I'm not going to say I don't love Chris. I do. I probably always will. Why wouldn't I? As you pointed out, she's a classy lady. She's my friend and the mother of my children. But, don't you see, that's just it!!"
"What's just it?"
"I was there with them. With her and the girls. In the bosom of my family so to speak."
"Was this before or after she said she didn't want you either?"
"After."
"So you're still speaking?"
"We're..." Sean drew the word out thoughtfully "... communicating. But things are not friendly, and I've been sleeping in the guest room."
"Was that her idea or yours?"
"It wasn't really discussed. I just went there on the first night, and on the second night I found all my clothes had been moved there."
Elijah made a finger gesture as if writing a number on a scoreboard.
"You keeping score?"
"Maybe. And if I am, you're getting your ass handed to you, son."
Sean scoffed softly. "Well, that's always been the case."
"Go on."
"With what?"
"You were saying 'that's just IT'. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah. Well, that's just it. I'm there with them. We're sitting around the family room in the evening, and the girls are there and even with the weirdness it's still relatively normal and familiar. And I should be happy... or at least feeling OK."
"But..."
"But even then, Elijah. Even then. I knew I didn't belong there anymore. I knew it."
Elijah pursed his lips and blew out a long sigh. "Whew. That has to hurt."
"It's just horribly sad."
"Did she ask for a divorce?"
"No, but she told me I should feel free to get one if I wanted one."
"Big of her."
"Yeah," Sean said dryly. "That's what I thought."
"What was said about us?" He moved his index finger back and forth between himself and Sean. "I mean about you and me."
"Not much. I mentioned that you were as disgusted with me as she was, and she told me she didn't want to hear it. She said she would not go on playing second fiddle to - to you."
"To what, Sean? What did she really say?"
"She said just that. Her exact words were: 'I won't go on playing second fiddle to a - to him'."
"To which you said..."
"I told her she wasn't playing second fiddle, that this wasn't a contest, and that I loved you both."
"Uh oh."
"Yeah, that was a mistake."
"No shit, Sherlock," Elijah said, laughing. "Are you aware that your foot and your mouth have this incredibly dysfunctional relationship?"
Sean grunted, nodding. "You don't know the half of it." He grabbed his beer again and drank a long swallow. "I apologized of course, but the damage was done. She was furious. Suggested that maybe she get Tuesdays, Thursdays, and alternate weekends."
"Then turned on her heel and walked out of the room?"
"Something like that."
"No one could write anything this good. It would make a great movie."
"More like a great soap opera."
"You have a point. So where does she think you are tonight?"
"Here with you."
"Seriously?"
"I'm done lying, Elijah. I told her we were going to dinner and that we might talk afterward."
"And she said..."
"Well, what do you think? She gave me a disgusted look and said, 'Oh, SURE. Talk. Right.'"
Elijah laughed.
"I pointed out to her that you didn't want to do anything more than talk even if I DID."
Elijah laughed even harder. "Oh my god, you just can't stop yourself can you?"
"I know. I should have my tongue surgically removed."
"And THEN she turned on her heel and walked out of the room."
"STALKED out of it would be more accurate." Sean sighed. "Thing is, I know her. Under all this huffy anger, she's suffering. She's too damn prideful to let me see it."
"An admirable woman."
"You keep pointing that out."
"I'm not interested in a relationship with you, Sean, that involves us doing a celebratory dance over your wife's broken and battered body. You will never hear me bad-mouthing Chris. You'd be a fool to leave her. That's my two cents."
"I want to be with you, Elijah."
"Then why AREN'T you?" Elijah sat up suddenly and took a long pull of his beer. "YOU drove us here tonight, ass-hat," he snapped, pointing at Sean with his beer bottle. "So obviously you know where I live. If you wanted to be with me so badly, why didn't you just drive here and ASK to be with me?"
"When last I saw you, you didn't want any part of me!"
"No. Not true, Sean. When last you saw me I said you had to 'woo' me. I said you had to prove I could trust you. How does that translate into ignoring me from then until now? I didn't say: 'Don't ask me to be with you.'"
"You told me not to ask ANY questions."
"Then don't ask! TELL! Drive to my house and TELL me that you want to be with me! Did you do that?"
"No."
"No. You didn't. So kindly don't come here now singing your 'I love you and want to be with you' song."
"Elijah, it's not an easy thing to do."
"Stop right there. We've been having this conversation for TEN FUCKING YEARS!" Elijah stormed, each word a hammer blow. "Ten years, Sean! Actually more like eleven years now! No one ever suggested it would be 'easy' or that you take some fast and casual route out of your marriage, so spare me. But no matter HOW fucking hard it is you've had ELEVEN YEARS!"
Sean stared silently at his hands.
"If you haven't done it by now, Sean, you might want to consider whether or not you really want to do it at all. Maybe you should just go home to your family, live the life you've chosen, and forget about me."
"Don't say that."
"I AM saying it. And you had better be hearing it."
"Elijah, you promised me you wouldn't talk to me this way again."
"I don't want to hurt you, Sean. But you're starting to do that stupid dance again. Handing me that 'but I'm a good husband and father' dodge. Elijah, it's not an easy thing to dooooooo," he mimicked in a whiney voice. "We talked about this in Toronto, remember?"
Sean nodded.
"You don't get to be a good husband and father if you want a life with me. Sorry. You can't have both. Make up your mind. Don't say you want to be with me then imply with everything you say and do that it's not going to happen until you're 70 and walking with a cane because I'm not going to do it!"
His voice grew steadily louder and more irate, and his last six words were a half-shout that drove Sean back against the chair.
"OK," Sean said softly. "Jesus, Elijah, OK."
"I'm not playing this game anymore," Elijah said, more softly. Then he sighed and looked over at his friend. Sean had leaned forward in the chair and lowered his face into his hands.
With a sigh Elijah got up and knelt before him. He pulled Sean's hands down then cradled his friend's face in his two palms and whispered: "Seanie, maybe it's time to say goodbye. Go home to them. Maybe you need to admit that they are your life." He kissed Sean's lips tenderly then whispered again: "Let me go."
Sean stared into the cobalt-blue eyes feeling his own eyes slowly filling with searing tears. "No," he said, his voice thick and trembling. "No!"
Elijah sighed and released him. He sat back on his heels and shook his head. "I think you're just refusing to see what you really want, Sean."
"YOU are what I really want!" Sean declared, reaching forward to grasp Elijah's shoulders.
Elijah began to speak again, but Sean shook him gently. "No! Listen to me!"
Elijah shrugged and sighed. "OK. I'm listening."
"I get it," Sean told him, drawing him up closer. "I know. I can't be a good husband and father if I want a life with you. The two things are totally incompatible. I'm going to have to hurt them if I want to be with you. I'm going to have to be a..." he released Elijah and drew fake quotation marks in the air "... 'bad husband and father', at least for awhile."
He reached down and captured Elijah's hands in his. "But you're wrong to think that because it hasn't happened yet, it's not what I want. It IS what I want!" He shook his head, staring past their joined hands down to the floor. "I've just been so... scared."
"I know, Sean."
Sean looked up at him questioningly.
"Of course I know," Elijah said quietly. "Life with them represents family and protection and security and safety. It represents a role you've played to perfection for a very long time."
Sean gave him a small smile.
"Life with me," Elijah continued, "represents the unknown. It represents chaos and change on an unimaginable scale, and these are things that you have feared your whole life."
Sean's eyes widened and tears slid down his face, but Elijah reached up and gently wiped them away. "You need to let me go, Seanie. For you. For them. For me."
Sean stared into his eyes for what seemed like forever. There was utter silence between them. Then slowly he drew in a deep, trembling breath. "Never," he told Elijah in a choked off whisper. "Fucking never, Elijah."
Elijah stared at him half in surprise, half in confusion.
"Not if we have to have ten thousand conversations like the one in Toronto," Sean told him, his voice breaking. "Not if we fight until we're both broken and bloody. Not - not if it breaks my back and heart."
Recognizing the words, a small smile crossed Elijah's lips.
"Not now, Elijah," Sean continued. "And not fucking ever. I will never let you go." He sat up straighter and lifted Elijah's hand to his lips. "I'm sorry about what that might put us through. Truly I am. I'm sorry about what it will put my family through. But I don't have a choice about it. I love you with my whole heart. And I will never willingly relinquish what that's given me. I simply can't, Elijah."
Elijah seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he shook his head and pulled his hands free from Sean's grip. "You may not have a choice. I won't go on the way it's been, Sean. I can't."
Sean nodded. "I understand. You won't have to. Just please, Elijah. Please give me a little more time."
Elijah began to speak but Sean quickly interrupted him, "I know. You've already waited too long. I know that. And I'm sorry. I promise you from my heart that I won't ask you to wait much longer. I swear it."
Elijah regarded him dubiously. "Sean, I've heard all this before."
"I know."
"I'm not going to promise you anything."
"OK. That's fair."
"You might come back and find out I don't want it anymore."
"I understand."
A quizzical look crossed Elijah's face. "What are you plotting?"
"Nothing!" Sean assured him. His hands slid up Elijah's arms and gripped his shoulders. "I'm not plotting a thing. At this point all I'm doing is hoping." He tried to draw Elijah toward him, but his friend resisted.
"No, Seanie," he murmured, pulling away slightly. "We're not gonna do that."
But Sean only tightened his grip. "I just want a kiss. I wasn't gonna jump you or anything."
"You should go home. It's late. I don't want her to worry."
Sean smiled gently. "And you wonder why I won't let you go?"
Elijah pointed at his watch. "Spare me the sappy bullshit, and just scram."
But once again Sean drew him gently forward. "One kiss?" he begged, his voice soft with appeal.
Elijah rolled his eyes in fake exasperation. "Oh for heaven's sake, fine." He reluctantly gave in to the steady pull of Sean's hands on his shoulders and yielded to his embrace. At once he felt Sean's lips press hungrily to his, kissing him with a fierce passion that took Elijah's breath and melted his body with waves of desire.
Unable to stop, he lost himself in the familiar warmth of Sean's embrace. As if from a great distance, he heard Sean moan softly, heard his own breathing growing ragged as their kiss grew deeper… more intimate. Frantically, he tore his lips away and tried to pull free, but Sean's arms tightened, crushing Elijah's body against his, as he buried his face in Elijah's neck.
For a timeless moment they clung to each other as if they could never let go, then drawing on his last bit of strength, Elijah wrenched himself free. "Get the fuck outta here, Sean," he growled softly. "Go on. Get!"
Sean drew back slowly drawing a tremulous breath, then gradually stood, drawing Elijah up with him. "Can I call you tomorrow?" he whispered.
"Call anytime you like. I never said you couldn't call."
"Can I see you tomorrow? Even just for lunch? Or dinner?"
"Can't. I have stuff tomorrow. Though..." he paused, considering. "I could do breakfast if you're up for that."
A smile broke across Sean's face, and to Elijah it seemed like the sun breaking from behind grey clouds.
"Can I pick you up at nine?" Sean asked.
"Yes, you can."
"You seem to have repealed the law forbidding me to ask questions," Sean observed with a wink.
Elijah laughed. "Don't push your luck, dude."
Sean laughed too and touched his cheek. "I love you," he murmured. Then he turned to go. "See you in the morning."
Elijah shadowed his steps, shoving him gently toward the door. "Get!" he ordered again.
Sean turned, his hand on the knob. "Lij, are we - maybe - better?" he asked hesitantly.
Elijah seemed to consider this for a moment. "We've taken one baby step," he said finally. "But we're still a long way from home. And Sean?"
"Yeah?"
"Remember what you said about the suffering underneath the anger. Whatever you do... do as little harm as possible in the process, OK?"
Sean nodded then touched his fingers to his lips in salute and left.
Elijah leaned against the closed door, trembling. He listened as Sean's car started. He listened as it drove away. Then he sighed. He had no idea how to define what he was feeling at this moment. He knew that deep down he was just as afraid as Sean of the changes that would come if they began a life together. He knew it would alter every aspect of their lives.
He slowly climbed the stairs to his room. I still don't trust him, he thought sadly. I still think there's a good chance he'll bail on me just like he always has. "
But Sean's kiss had been devastating. When he'd felt those arms tighten around him, he had teetered on the brink of surrender, drawn irresistibly to the warmth and protection he always felt when Sean held him close. He wondered briefly if any embrace other than his could ever give him the same feeling of utter security. Then he sighed and began to undress.
"I wish I'd told him that I loved him too," he whispered regretfully. "Well... maybe tomorrow."