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When Peter finally yelled “Cut!” Andy felt like running across and throwing himself onto his beloved leader’s comforting bulk and smothering him in heart-felt kisses of relief and gratitude.
However. Since every single muscle in the Serkis anatomy now resembled something that had been hanging out in a freezer and sucking on ice-cubes ever since God was wearing knitted matinee jackets and trying to focus on the mobile hanging over His celestial cot, an agonised zombie-like scuttle was going to be the best he could manage.
And then his heart sank as Peter announced that they’d take a break and then go again. The man was a fucking sadist; he just had to be. Not only was he making him wear a suit that made him feel like he was wearing an all-over condom – and Andy didn’t like to be reminded of that because it was no fun having people cracking what he hoped were no more than tired jokes about him being a prick – but he was also miserable and tired, and the cold so intense that it was a physical pain contracting all his muscles and digging down deep to the bone.
Oh fuck. He could feel a small strop coming on. Andy was almost certain he was even going to cry – even though, likely as not, nothing would emerge from his tear ducts but tiny little ice pearls, all perfect and glistening against his cheeks and eyelashes.
If just one more person made a crack about “chilling out” he’d kill them. Oh sure, it had made him laugh at first; but there was nothing like repeated drenchings and takes and feeling your blood freeze capillary by capillary to make the gag punishable by death after the twenty-fifth repetition.
“Come on, Andy.” Sean Astin’s voice hit his ear at the same time as a warm body closed in on either side of him and hands were grabbing at his arms. “Before you freeze your balls off.”
“Ever thought of cryonic suspension?” Elijah added wryly as the two hobbits helped Andy to dry land and more hands reached out to envelop Andy in shiny thermal wrap. “After this you ain’t gonna need it.”
“I feel like a bloody ice-lolly,” Andy grumbled. “Talk about Gollum-on-a-stick.”
Elijah looked bemused “Ice-lolly?”
“Like a popsicle,” one of the crew offered helpfully.
“Oh,” Elijah nodded. And then snorted as his eyes widened to their customary dinner plate size and his mouth crumpled in readiness for a raucous burst of giggling.
“Don’t!” Sean admonished at once. “We know you too well, don’t we, Andy; you’re just dyin’ to get a blow-job gag in there somewhere, aren’t you...”
Elijah’s eyes widened fully. “Who – me?” He accosted a nearby crewmember and pulled him into the hobbit huddle. “Have you ever known me make an off-colour remark or say anything obscene?”
The man smiled. “No!”
“See,” Lij replied, looking smug.
“No, I’ve never heard you say anything rude or disgusting,” the crewman continued, winking at Sean and Andy before he headed off in the direction of the makeup area. “Except when we’re not actually shooting, of course...”
“Ah...good point...” Elijah conceded with a grin as those around them laughed in agreement.
“And with that I’m going to have to love you and leave you, boys,” Andy smiled. “See if I can get some feeling back before the next take.” By now he had been plied with coffee and bundled up in another blanket and was eager to get to one of the trailers in order to warm up. He smiled wanly back over his shoulder at Elijah and Sean as he hobbled away, clutching his blanket and coffee gratefully. “At least this’ll warm the cockles of me ‘eart,” he grinned, waving his Styrofoam cup. “And thanks, lads. A little help’s worth a lot of pity!”
Sean blew on his hands and rubbed them. “Don’t mention it.”
“Yeah.” Elijah folded his arms and tucked his hands into his armpits. “You’d do the same for us. Now you get the hell into that trailer and thaw out, okay?”
“It’ll be a pleasure, Lij!”
“I did suggest imagining that we were filming in Barbados,” Sean continued as Andy ambled away and cups of coffee were thrust at them. “Blue skies, warm oceans...all that stuff.”
“Yeah! Good one!” Elijah beamed his approval. “What shall we try for the next take? Miami Beach, maybe?”
Sean sighed happily. “As long as it’s hot and the water’s warm and the skies are blue...”
“Aw, man...why the fuck could we not have shot this scene in Barbados? I mean – who woulda known?”
“Exactly!”
And their gleeful laughter followed Andy into the trailer...
* * * * * * * * *
When he heard the knock on the trailer door, Andy groaned inwardly and struggled to his feet.
There’d been a delay in filming and, while this was very welcome given that he could at least take off his Lycra mask and he still hadn’t managed to thaw out to anything even approaching “tepid” yet, he didn’t think he could face more cheery banter about frozen chicken legs and shrimp balls and yet another cup of whiskied coffee. He didn’t know who it was who had the contraband bottle out here on the set; but much more of this doctored caffeine and Gollum would be rolling around in the water telling Frodo and Sam they were his “besht mates” and demanding kebabs between hiccups.
The second knock was more impatient, and Andy knew he had to face the inevitable. “Come in! But don’t give me any more of that fucking coffee, okay?” he scolded as the door opened and a small figure entered the cluttered space.
“Ah.” Elijah looked down into the coffee cup he was holding and then at the small mound of its discarded white brethren spilling out of the trailer bin. “Sorry.”
“But thanks anyway,” Andy added hastily, thinking of how odd it looked to see Frodo Baggins holding a very un-Middle Earth Styrofoam container. “Thought that counts, and all that.”
“You know me,” grinned Elijah, tossing the cup in the general direction of the bin. “Always eager to lend a hand to a friend in need.”
For a moment Andy tensed – and then stared, not quite certain what was happening, when the cup bounced safely off the wall and into one last little nook in the bin and left not a single trace of anything but fresh air in its wake. “Er...”
“What?” Elijah demanded, grin broad as he kicked the door to behind him, turned the key in the lock, and advanced purposefully on the older man.
“That cup was empty...”
Elijah shrugged. “Had to have a good excuse for coming in here, didn’t I?”
<Did I just see him lock that door?> “Er...”
And then Elijah was up close – too close – and giving Andy that smile of his which managed to look both ineffably angelic and infinitely devilish at the same time. “Still cold?” he asked, pressing rather closer than Andy thought was absolutely necessary.
“I’m less ‘Man At C&A’ than ‘Man At Sainsbury’s Frozen Food Counter’ at present, if that answers your question.”
“It might if I understood all the references...”
“Well – ”
But Elijah didn’t give him chance to explain further. Instead he put his hands on Andy’s chest, fingers plucking at the smooth Lycra. “’Ere...want me to ‘elp warm the cockles of yer ‘eart, darlin’?”
Hearing Elijah’s voice twisted into a very passable Cockney accent made Andy giggle. “What the fuck are you playing at, Lij?”
“Go on, mister – only cost you a farvin’ an’ a cup o’ tea...”
“What are they putting in the coffee this morning?” Andy demanded, still laughing.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Andy!” Elijah sighed, stamping his hobbit foot. And then his small hands were continuing the task that Andy had already begun of unfastening the Lycra and wet suits before pushing them down to his waist.
Andy yelped as what little warmth as had accumulated between the layers of padding and protective suits was swamped by the cooler air of the room – then swore as Elijah pushed closer. He really ought to shove Elijah away – but to be honest he couldn’t summon up the energy. Or at least that’s what Andy told himself. Instead, he turned his confused feelings to amused annoyance. “What the fuck are you doing...”
“Warming you up!”
The fabric of Lij’s costume felt faintly chilled against Andy’s skin and Frodo’s cloak pin was uncomfortable at such close quarters. “How?”
“What do you mean, ‘how’?” Now Elijah’s right hand – and thank Christ it was a warm right hand – was burrowing into the remainder of Andy’s outfit, rummaging towards the infamous “pulling pants” and heading unerringly for his groin. “How do you think, fuckwit?”
“What?” Andy looked horrified. “You are fucking joking, aren’t you, Lij...”
“No, I’m not.” Elijah’s fingers closed around Andy’s cock and began stroking gently. “Go on...you know you wanna...”
For a split-second the two men stared at each other, Andy faintly indignant and Elijah wide-eyed and attempting to look innocent – and then they were trying to stifle snorts of glee.
“It’s too bloody cold for that!” Andy protested half-heartedly as Elijah’s mouth moved against his neck and face and his hand continued to stroke him. “It’ll take a lot more than you’ve got to coax my dick out of hiding today, I’ll tell you – ooh! Fuck!”
“There now,” Elijah crooned soothingly, hand increasing its pace as Andy’s arms snaked shyly around him. “Feels better already, doesn’t it?”
“Mmmn...yeah...”
For a while there was no sound of substance at all from either Andy or Elijah save for laboured breathing, giggles, and occasional “Fucking hell!”s from Andy. For some reason Andy found the whole thing irresistibly funny – but as hot as hell.
Which meant that soon he wasn’t laughing at all as his cock got harder and Elijah’s grip grew tighter and more knowing and he tried to work out exactly why wanking was supposed to be such a terrible thing. “What the fuck are we doing?” he whispered, trying not to whimper as Elijah’s hand settled into an especially satisfying rhythm.
“What does it look like?”
Andy made an unsuccessful stab at frowning. “I know what it looks like, I just... Are we going to do this every time I freeze my knackers off doing this scene?”
Elijah squeezed Andy’s cock and chuckled throatily at Andy’s squeak of pleasure. “If you like. Would you like that, Andy?”
Andy laughed, but with effort. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Elijah...” he panted.
“Hmmm! Now that sounds like fun!” Elijah grinned as his hand began to slide more rapidly, spreading pre-come as it went. In response, Andy groaned and began to move his hips more insistently. “So – am I warming you up, Andy?”
“Fuck...yeah...”
“And how does it feel, hmmm?”
Andy gasped as Elijah squeezed his cock and ran his thumb over the head. “Fuckin’ amazin’...”
“And that’s just how your cock feels...just like you do...” Elijah put his finger against Andy’s lips, his own breathing faster and harder now. “Sshssh, now...”
As he increased the tempo and pressure of his hand on Andy’s erection, Elijah pressed his finger more insistently against Andy’s mouth until it was taken in and briefly suckled. Moaning gently at the soft roughness of Andy’s tongue against his skin, Elijah pulled his hand free and then wound his fingers into Andy’s short, still-damp hair, pulling his head down for a kiss which meant that speech would be impossible for a little while...save for whimpers, groans and other inarticulate sounds of pleasure...
* * * * * * * * *
“Warmer now?” Elijah enquired coyly as he licked come from his fingers.
“Warm as toast,” Andy replied with a bashful grin. “You?”
“Like I’m on fire...”
“Well, it’s just as well we’ve got to go back out there and paddle about in that stream again then, isn’t it...”
“For both of us, I think...” Elijah said, the words low and soft.
Something in the tone of Elijah’s voice made Andy pause as he pulled on the Lycra mask. What was it they’d said earlier?
Don’t fucking tempt me, Elijah... Hmmm...now that sounds like fun...
Andy studied Elijah carefully, noting the hint of impish mischief and promise in the boy’s eyes and realising that this wasn't meant to be a one-off.
“Yeah,” he said, at last, matching Elijah’s wicked smile. “I think you could be right...”
~~The End~~