His Dearest Wish by Lbilover

So I was totally projecting, but Sean looked sad to me in the below photo, so I wrote a fic to make him feel better. :-)


lonely sean
lonely sean
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Sean removed his white dress shirt and draped it over the back of a chair. Couldn't risk food stains when there was still half a day's shoot left. The costume department would not be amused. Underneath he wore a wifebeater, and Sean was overly aware that he looked nothing like the young Marlon Brando in Streetcar Named Desire wearing it.


He sat down to eat the salad the AD had brought him, and was annoyed with himself for his negativity. So what if he had a permanent gut that no amount of dieting or exercise seemed able to eliminate? It wasn't as if he'd ever been pure leading man material, not at his height. Besides, look at what had happened to Brando in the end. He hadn't remained a young stud forever. Age caught up to everyone eventually.


But the small dressing room in Salt Lake City was far from home, and he'd been traveling so much lately that he was feeling the effects of time changes so wild that even his jet lag was confused. It reminded him of the whirlwind days spent promoting Rings, with one big difference: he was going it alone right now.


I'm a lonely, depressed fat fuck. The thought, an echo of the worst days in New Zealand when he'd looked into the mirror and hated who he saw staring back, slid into his mind. Damn it, hadn't he put that man behind him years ago? Apparently not. Or maybe, he decided, trying to force humor into the situation, it was the photos of lugubrious clowns hanging on the walls of the dressing room infecting him. He could think of another face he'd like to see there that would have precisely the opposite effect from Emmett Kelly. Inchoate longing swamped him, and he had to fight the urge to take out his phone and make the call he'd vowed not to. Instead, he picked up his fork and forced himself to focus on his lunch.


The salad on a Chinette plate was typical low-budget movie fare, the tines of the cheap plastic fork barely adequate to pierce the tough, wilting shreds of lettuce or wind the slippery cold noodles. His patience for dealing with these minor annoyances was at a low ebb and he thought about simply pitching the meal into the trash can and having done with it, but that would be stupidly self-defeating. Sean poked at the salad, feeling the weight of every one of his forty-two years, and wished an affable genie would pop up out of his coffee cup and offer to grant him his dearest wish. Because he knew precisely what he wanted right now - or rather whom.


Next moment Sean nearly jumped out of his skin when something touched him lightly under the jaw and a soft voice said, "What's this, a hobbit taken off his guard?"


Bright blue eyes filled with love and an imp of mischief met his startled, disbelieving gaze. It was as if, Sean thought dazedly, a genie had indeed heard him, for here was his dearest wish in the flesh. "Elijah! What are you doing here?"


Elijah took the fork from his unresisting hand and set it on the plate. "Making all your dreams come true?" He straddled Sean's lap and proceeded to kiss him like a starving man at a banquet - which was precisely how Sean felt, too. Fuck the salad.


When their hunger was satiated, to the extent it could be when only a thin particle board door stood between them and the movie set, Elijah pulled back and said, "Shit, I needed that." His eyes scrutinized Sean. "So what's with the wifebeater? Not that I'm complaining, mind. You look very sexy in it."


At that Sean let out what seemed like his first genuine laugh in ages. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" he said. "I was just sitting here bemoaning my appearance in this thing."


"Good thing I showed up to set you straight then." Elijah framed Sean's face between his hands, his expression now entirely serious. "Love, you were looking so sad when I came in. Is everything okay?"


For answer Sean took Elijah's hand and pressed a kiss into the palm. "Just a bout of the lonely blues, missing my Mr. Frodo. But you've already chased them away. It was no joke when you said you're making all my dreams come true." He huffed a soft laugh. "But then, you always have."


"Oh Sean." Elijah slid his arms around Sean's middle and hugged him tightly, resting his cheek against Sean's heart. "And I always will, I promise."


Silence fell, and Sean reveled in the uncomplicated joy of holding his dearest wish in his arms. The whys and wherefores of Elijah's unexpected visit remained to be answered, but any explanations could wait. For now, this was enough.