Three’s a Crowd

Part Two

 

Author:  kevswitchau

Pairing:  EW/TM, CR

Genre:  RPS

Rating:  NC-17

Warnings:  Sex, language.

Disclaimer:  I don’t own the rights to the movie, or the boys (or Christina) and none of this ever happened. It’s all in my mind...my twisted, twisted mind. Thank you to Kinky Hobbit and Catrine for ideas and inspiration.

Note: Elijah was 16 during Ice Storm. Our age of consent is 16. Enough said.


“Hey Tobey, man, don’t you think you should slow up a bit?”

 

Tobey threw back another shot and turned towards the voice. Kevin.  Nice guy, but Jesus...he loved playing the Dad on the set.  He’d pop a valve if he knew how very fucked up this surrogate son was.

 

Tobey glanced at him from beneath lowered eyelids, a not-quite-smile on his lips.  He turned back towards the bartender and waved the empty shot glass at him.

 

“Why don’t you just leave the bottle?” he slurred, reaching for the tequila. 

 

He hated wrap parties.  Fucking hated them.  Hated that you live, breathe, eat and sleep with these people for months, and all of a sudden...nothing.  One big party, and that’s it...it’s all gone.  And you have to move on to another movie, another shoot. 

 

Another fucking party. 

 

He drank again. 

 

It was good.  It was all good.  Tequila was his friend.  And on top of the quarter bottle of scotch he’d had earlier, it was being very, very friendly.

 

He felt eyes on him, and scanned the room.  Christina was sulking.  Again.

 

Didn’t get lucky this time, bitch he thought briefly with a grin.

 

But it wasn’t her.  It wasn’t her.  He squinted against the alcoholic haze and searched again. 

 

There. 

 

There he was.  All floppy fringe and big blue eyes.  All innocence and porcelain.  He was sitting in an overstuffed armchair against the wall, a half empty glass of coke in his hand.

 

But Tobey knew it wasn’t coke.  Sixteen years old, Mikey, what would Mommy say?

 

He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest.  His hair in his face.  His eyes fixed firmly on Tobey.  Tobey felt the stare all the way to his groin.  The dull heat throbbed between his thighs and he absently reached down and adjusted himself.

 

Elijah smiled.

 

Tobey had tried.  He really had.  He had taken a long, hard look at himself and stopped before going any further with Elijah.  He didn’t remember what his excuse had been that day in the trailer.  He’d feigned tiredness...or something equally lame.  But it was still there. All of it.  Festering away just below the surface.

 

The kid was just so relentless.  And so.  Goddamned.  Beautiful.

 

Fuck it.

 

Tobey swigged straight from the bottle, the alcohol heating up his stomach and joining the warmth that was rising from below.  He felt like he was on fire, and was simply going to burn away, from the inside out.  What a way to go.

 

Fuck it all.

 

He stood up, swayed drunkenly, and steadied himself on the bar.  The room rippled and blurred.  Tobey smiled.  It was just the tequila, smoothing out the jagged edges.  He turned the smile on Elijah, who had climbed to his feet as well.

 

Fuck it all indeed.

 

He beckoned Elijah with his head and turned and left the room.  Left the people and the noise and the forced frivolity.  He held the bottle by the neck, lifted it and chugged the burning liquid, grimacing.

 

Tobey walked towards his trailer without looking back.  He didn’t need to.  He heard Elijah’s footfall behind him...tentative and anxious.  Tobey could picture those huge eyes, like the eyes of some kind of nocturnal animal, fixed on his back.

 

Come here, little boy.

 

It sounded sinister.  It probably was. 

 

He reached the trailer and unlocked the door. 

 

“Lock the door behind you,” he said simply, still not looking back.  He found two glasses and poured most of the rest of the bottle into them, as Elijah scrambled up the steps and locked them in.

 

He finally turned and looked at Elijah.  The kid was just exquisite...a word Tobey reserved only for the very special, impressive things in his life...and this was one of them.  He handed Elijah the glass, as he drained his own.

 

“It’s okay, Tobey...I don’t want...”

 

“Drink it,” he ordered simply.

 

Elijah drank it.

 

Tobey grabbed Elijah’s jacket and jerked him forwards, crushing his mouth down, his tongue pushing past Elijah’s lips and demanding acquiescence.  He felt Elijah falter for a second, taken off guard, before answering with his own tongue, his own hands grasping at Tobey’s clothes.

 

Tobey tore himself back after savouring the flavours of Elijah’s mouth and began to strip Elijah’s jacket from him.

 

“Hey Tobey, slow down...”

 

Tobey managed to remove Elijah’s coat and had started to pull at his shirt.  He felt Elijah’s hands grip his wrists, and he looked up.

 

“Tobey...what...?”

 

Tobey pulled his hands away, reached for the bottle and drained it.  His mood was darkening by the second.  Maybe Tequila wasn’t his friend after all, but at this stage, there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

 

“I thought you wanted this,” he slurred, surprised at how drunk he sounded.  How cold.

 

“I do man, but...”

 

“Or are you just a tease, Mikey...?”

 

Elijah’s eyes looked shocked, disbelieving. He shook his head.  “No...I mean...you know I’m not.  Tobey...you know I want this, but...maybe...you’ve had too much to...”

 

Tobey reached out and jerked Elijah’s shirt, smiling at the plastic sound of buttons bouncing on the linoleum floor.  He ran his hands roughly up Elijah’s body, feeling the ribs beneath the skin...the heart beating faster...faster.  He reached down and unbuttoned Elijah’s jeans.

 

“Then shut the fuck up and lets get on with it.”

 

Tobey shoved Elijah hard, and he sprawled backwards onto the bed.  Tobey stood for a moment, looking down, absently rubbing the already hard bulge in his jeans.  Elijah’s eyes were huge, his breath coming in small, panicked gasps.  Through the tequila haze, Elijah looked beautiful.  He looked aroused.  He looked ready.

 

Tobey leaned down, grabbed Elijah’s ankles and flipped him onto his stomach, before straddling his hips and pinning him to the bed.  Tobey didn’t hear Elijah’s pleas to slow down as he undid his jeans and freed his cock.  He leaned forward so that his lips were inches from Elijah’s ear.

 

“I know you want this. You’ve wanted this all along.”

 

He moved backwards and jerked at the waistband of Elijah’s jeans.  The fly let go with a soft sound, and the jeans slid down over his hips. 

 

“Tobey, Jesus man...”

 

Tobey didn’t hear the panic in Elijah’s voice as he guided his cock to Elijah’s ass.  He didn’t understand that Elijah’s frenzied movements beneath him were an attempt to get away.  The kid wanted this.  He’d wanted this from day one.  And Tobey was gonna give it to him.  He was gonna give it to him good.

 

He pushed into Elijah quickly and hard, grunting at the tightness of the entrance.  He gritted his teeth and forced the head of his cock forward, into the warmth, shoving brutally past unwilling muscles.

 

“Oh Christ Tobey! No...please...Tobey you’re hurting me!!! STOP!”

 

Those words, screamed through tears, cut through the haze like a knife.  And Tobey stopped.  He jerked to a halt as if waking from a nightmare, realisation creeping over him like a spider in the darkness.

 

He looked down at Elijah beneath him, and pulled back.  Quickly.  His eyes wide, his breath ragged.  And he heard it all at once. His own breath whistling through clenched teeth.  Elijah sobbing.  And someone banging...banging on the trailer door. 

 

The world started to spin and Tobey knew he was going to vomit.

 

BANG...BANG...BANG...

 

He leapt to his feet, and pulled his jeans up, buttoning the fly with trembling fingers, and staggering backwards.

 

“Jesus...Elijah...I...ohfuck...I’m...”

 

And who the fuck was banging on his trailer?  He backed away from Elijah, who had pulled himself into a ball on the bed, and stopped only when he ran into the wall.  Yet he couldn’t look away from what he’d done.  Couldn’t speak.

 

BANG...BANG...BANG...

 

He whipped around and threw open the door

 

“WHAT?”

 

Jesus Christ.  Christina.  She was all he needed right now.  The cold night air hit him like a slap in the face, and he leaned out the door and vomited noisily on Christina’s shoes.

 

“Oh Jesus, Tobey...GROSS!” she shrieked, spinning around and running off into the darkness.

 

Well.  That solves one problem, thought Tobey, vomiting again, his stomach clenching over and over until there was nothing left. 

 

Nothing left. 

 

How apt.

 

He sat on the step for what seemed like hours.  The spasms had stopped, and he felt completely drained and empty.  He knew it was cold, but he’d long ago stopped feeling it.  He was numb.  Inside and out.  And he knew he had to go back inside the trailer. 

 

The door opened behind him.  He didn’t want to turn around.

 

“Tobey?” He could hear the rawness of tears in Elijah’s voice, and it just about killed him.

 

“Man…it’s freezing. Come back inside.”

 

Tobey was silent.  He couldn’t find his voice, and even if he could, what would he say?  He felt a hand fall softly on his shoulder, and jerked away.  He couldn’t handle this now. Not now.

 

“Tobey?”

 

He didn’t go back into the trailer.  He stood up and walked away without turning back, ignoring Elijah’s pleas for the second time that night.

 

After about half an hour, he found himself outside her trailer.  Perhaps this was the solution. His penance.  Perhaps this would make everything right.  He knocked.

 

The door opened.

 

“About time,” she purred, reaching out, taking his hand and drawing him into the perfumed warmth.

 

“You want a drink?” she held out a glass to him.  His stomach rolled.

 

“I just quit.”

 

“You owe me a new pair of shoes.”

 

Tobey forced an apologetic grin to his face.

 

“You might have to take it out in trade.”

 

Her smile was predatory and triumphant as she began to undo his buttons.

 

“That is my plan.”

 

And as he felt her mouth on his skin, he tried hard not to shudder.  Tried hard not to pull away.  But most of all, he tried hard not to think, because when he did, all he could see was big blue eyes and porcelain skin and an empty bottle of tequila.

 

Kevswitchau 2002

 

Part 3

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