Once again, this story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance in events are purely coincidence. In writing this, I am not claiming Elijah Wood is gay; the story is written without prejudice. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Fourteen

It was Elijah. He was stood there with a grin painted across his face, wearing a tuxedo, his hair combed back from his face, arms extended to me for me to rush into them. Beside him was a table set with candles and elaborate food and sparkling fruit juice instead of wine. 'Surprise!' he said and Hannah clapped her hands in excitement.

My face told them both my true feelings. How could they have done such a thing to me? Making me believe something had happened to him. Making me feel ill with fear. My stomach churned and I turned from then, running back across the park, running anywhere away from them. Tears tripped down my cheeks and I made no effort to hide them as I passed people on the path. How stupid of me! Why had I fallen for it? Why didn't I see through it as a ruse? Now I really hated myself.

I planked myself on a bench, hoping it was in a discreet place that Elijah and Hannah couldn't find. I was in no state to drive. I dropped my face into my hands and sobbed loudly. Why? Why had they done it? Why torture me like that? I bet they were laughing right then as to how well they pulled it off. Laughing and remarking they should do it on some other poor unsuspecting soul sometime soon.

But they weren't. Elijah had followed me, leaving Hannah by the pond, and now cautiously approached behind me. 'Peter,' he said in a voice I thought sounded sincere enough. But he was an actor. It was an actors' job to sound sincere.

'Go away,' I mumbled through my hands, not raising my face to look at him. If I did I would crumpled. I tried to calm my sobbing, but my shoulders still hunched and shook with my silent tears. 'Why won't you just leave me alone?'

'Peter I- I had no idea it would... I...' He was lost for words. 'I'm sorry.'

I scowled up at him. 'You think that's gonna make everything all right?' I stood and faced him, my face set like stone. 'I thought you were dead. I thought you'd been killed or something and that it was my fault for not driving you home. Why, Elijah?' My eyes brimmed up with tears again and they flowed down my cheeks unhindered. 'Why did you do it? Do you realise how much you've hurt me? Well? Do you? I don't know if I can ever trust you again.'

'But-' he began, and I could see some evidence of tears starting in his own eyes. 'JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!' I blasted into his face and ran off to my car, clambering into the front seat and struggling with the key in the ignition. I put the car in drive and veered off down the road. I hated myself more by the second. Why? I kept wondering to myself. Why? Why? Why?

I didn't go home. I couldn't. I knew he'd be there. I just drove, reminiscent of one other time I just drove around the city going nowhere in particular. But this time it was for a whole new reason. I couldn't believe what they had done. They had obviously cooked it all up between them and Hannah had come to my apartment with her own acting skills in play.

The sobs choked me. I resolved to never speak to either of them again. It was terrible, making me think that my life was over because of an accident. So many emotions tugged on my heart at the same time. I still loved Elijah, but how could I ever spend another minute with him after what he had done? It was unforgivable. Never in my life would I have thought he was capable of such a deed. He was sweet and kind and loving. It just didn't fit. This wasn't the Elijah I knew.

I cried, almost missing a stop sign because of my tearfilled eyes. I had to reprimand myself to stop this insane behaviour. Men don't cry. If big girl's don't, then why should men? But I had lost my love. My life was a shambles. Of course I was allowed to cry, damnit!

When I finally got home there were three messages on the machine. I didn't check them, simply went straight back to bed, even though it was the early afternoon. I lay restlessly for over two hours before getting up and making coffee. As it perked, I took a quick shower, my senses numbed by the previous surge of emotion I had suffered. I stood under the jet of water and cried. I towelled off, and cried. I drank the coffee, and cried. And then I went to a liqour store. It was something I'd never done before, drinking on my own. Back home, the legal drinking age, like I've said before, is eighteen, and my friends and I would go out clubbing at the weekends. I'd never drink too much, I knew limits, and I've never been drunk. But tonight, I just wanted to forget everything and this seemed a plausible way of achieving that. I bought six bottles of Corona, decided that wouldn't be enough as the beer here in the States has a less alcohol percentage than home, and so purchased a bottle of Irish Whiskey as well. I hated the stuff, hated the smell of it as much as the taste, but I didn't care. I flashed my drivers' licence and then rode home again, the alcohol nestled on my lap.

It was after six o'clock when I settled in front of the television with the beers and I switched on Cinemax. They were showing an action movie. Good, I thought. Not a romance. It seemed that whenever you are feeling down, the TV always showed tacky romance movies or the radio always played cheesy love songs. I hated that. I watched the action movie for half an hour, not knowing what it was, it was one I hadn't seen before, and then I remembered the answering machine. I longed to find out who the messages were from. Had Elijah called to apologies? Had he wanted to set things straight?

I went to it, the Corona in hand, and noticed that there were now four messages. I played them, slouching on the couch and draining the bottle. 'Peter, it's me. You hung up so quick this morning I knew something was wrong. Call me when you get the chance. Hope everything's okay.' It was my mother. I had forgot about her. I made a mental note to call her tomorrow if I could remember. The machine beeped and played the second message. 'Um, Peter, if you're there, please pick up. We need to talk. I'm sorry for this morning. I didn't think you'd react so badly. I'm really sorry. I love you. Please get in touch.' Elijah. I groaned at the sound of his voice, but was thrilled by it too. So many conflicting emotions. I wanted to go to him and rush into his arms, allowing him the opportunity of explaining, but I still felt abused. He shouldn't have done such a thing.

Another beep from the machine and a voice started again. 'Peter, we haven't seen each other in ages. What have you been up to? Call me. Let's arrange to go out some time, k?' It was Charlotte, the friend I had come to Oklahoma University to be close to in the first place. She was right. I had seen her only once since I started spending all my time with Elijah. Yet another beep and I wanted to scream at Elijah's voice as it spewed from the machine. 'Peter. It's about 5:45pm. Please. We've got to talk. I'm sorry for before. It was heartless, I know. Call me. I'll be here all night. Or maybe I'll come round. I really love you. Honest. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you willingly. I'm sorry.' There was a lingering silence before he hung up. I refused to let myself cry anymore. I would get over him, I know I would. I'd have to. But no matter how hard I tried, with images of Elijah and I making out, of being together, and of our 'coupling' last night, the thing that was to bring us closer together, I could not help but allow the tears to stream down my cheeks to my shirt.

I sighed from all the ache, the heartache, the headache. I opened another bottle of Corona and slouched onto the floor, channel surfing (I had lost interest in the action movie) and it was about an hour later when a knock came to the door. I knew who it'd be. Elijah. I ignored that incessant knocking and turned the volume of the TV up louder. I thought I could almost hear his voice, calling my name, shouting sorry to me, but I wasn't sure. I closed my eyes, covered my ears and willed him to leave. When finally the knocking did cease, I switched the TV off, looked out the window for signs of him, found none, and then went to bed.

Fifteen

Morning. 'Ughhhh,' I groaned, rolling out of bed and slapping my hand down on the alarm clock. I covered my face with my hands and breathed deeply. I remembered I'd been drinking. Rubbing my eyes, I staggered to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. My mouth felt horrible. Like the lining of a fur boot. Coffee, I needed coffee. And I had an incredible urge for chocolate. I unwrapped the last Hershey's that was in my refrigerator and ate it, waiting for the coffee to make. As I did, I recounted the events of the day before and was surprised that I wasn't crying while I thought of Elijah and his terrible prank. I put it down to the fact that I had cried so much yesterday that I had no tears left.

And then I realised why I had got up so early. Work. The film set. No, I couldn't. If I had to look at Elijah I'd cringe. Not because I hated him, I informed myself. I could never hate him, no matter what he done. I knew he loved me. And I still loved him back. But he upset me. He made me angry. Him and Hannah. They cooked up that scheme and played it out like the actors they were. I didn't think I was over-reacting. Was I? I mean, come on, look what he - they - did. They made a fool out of me. Made me look so stupid. But Elijah's eyes yesterday when I came to me... they had been full of regret. Maybe I could forgive him. Maybe I'd be able to forget it and just get on with loving him and kissing him and... I remembered our love making again. It had been devine. Oh why must I feel so mixed up?!! I hated this sense of not knowing what to do.

I resolved to go to work and hope that I just didn't run into him or Hannah, and if I did happen to pass them, I hoped there'd be too many other people around for a confrontation. When I got there, I was relieved that the Wood family had not turned up yet. They weren't needed until the after noon. About one o'clock or so. That was good because I finished today at two o'clock. That meant that there was only an hour in which we could possibly meet. And for that hour I'd make sure I was as busy as a bee and not have time for him.

It proved easy enough. For most of the morning, I tottered around almost aimlessly, expecting to find myself standing in front of Elijah around every next corner. Thankfully not. I'm sure he would have tried to come, knowing that I had to be there, but I imagine his mother had him do something that meant he couldn't get away. She didn't know of our illicit affair, thankfully. I was directed to do this and that by several people. At one point I had to do three things at once! And succeeded! And when the hour came upon me so unexpected where Elijah was stood in front of me, I was so lost for words and stuck on the spot that I'm sure it looked funny to anyone who saw - not least of whom was Elijah's mother.

'Hello, Peter. How are you?' she asked.

I stared at Elijah and he stared back, standing a foot from me, no smile twitching on his lips, just a deep look of sorrow in his eyes, a pleading look. I managed to tear my eyes from him and smiled weaking at his mom. 'Hello,' I said. 'I'm fine. But busy. Gotta... erm, go over there. Get the, um, flex-cable.' I nodded convincingly. 'See you later,' I said and then dashed off, tears brimming in my eyes, my head down so that no one could see.

That was the only time I saw them. I was busy until it was time to leave. I said goodbye to a few of the other runners, thought about seeking out Elijah and saying goodbye to him as well, and then thought better of it, and went home.

In the apartment, I remembered to call my mother. She new something was still wrong. 'You sound depressed or something,' she said. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

'I'm fine,' I told her, a little too defensively. Then I relented. 'Well, I'm okay. Just... I don't know. Missing people.'

'Home sick?' my mom said, interpreting it the way she wanted to. I mumbled an ambiguous mmmm and she said, 'What date are you coming home? 1st of July? 2nd? Shame you'll miss Easter here. Never mind. You'll get over the homesickness. It'll pass. Things are always blown way out of proportion. When you're home, you won't be able to wait to get back to Oklahoma. How's Charlotte?'

'Fine,' I lied. I wasn't sure how she was. I'd have to phone her. She'd be a good distraction from the things at hand. 'Look, Mom, I've got something on the stove. And this call'll cost me a fortune. I'll write to you, okay? And you can phone if you need me.' She agreed, said she hoped I was eating well, and we said our goodbyes and hung up.

My hand lingered on the phone after I had put it down, wondering if I should call Elijah, but I didn't. I knew I'd have to speak to him sooner or later, but the way I was feeling I couldn't stand to break down on him. So I called Charlotte and arranged to go out clubbing. She said there was this great place called The Beat that had just opened. I'd drive to her place, and we'd walk to the club so we could drink without having to drive home.

I showered and changed, and when the time came to go I lingered in my bedroom looking forlornly at my bed. That was where we had sex. Elijah and I. I was in no mood to go out now, but I had said I would, so I donned a jacket and left.

Charlotte was radient tonight. As usual. Although I had never really been physically attracted to girls I could see why others would be attracted to Charlotte. Her blond curls framed her face well, and her features were kind, a constant smile lighting up her eyes. She could tell I was feeling down, but said little by way of obtaining an explaination. She simply tried to make me feel better by being funny and suggestive and everything that would normally make me smile or laugh. None of it worked. And I declined her offers of drink. I was going to crash at her's for the night and go home in my car the following morning, but I only wanted my bed now. She drank and I walked her home in the cool night air. It was only eleven o'clock but she knew I wanted home so agreed to leave early. The club wasn't that great anyway.

At her place, I stayed for a coffee and we chatted for a while. She wanted to know how my course was going. Wanted to know how my work had been, if I'd met any famous stars or anything. Wanted to know how my love-life was. I answered with short curt answers. Course: 'Okay. Not bad.' Work: 'Fine. Seen that Elijah Wood guy, but you knew that already.' Love-life (after a slight hesitation): 'Null and void.'

Not long after that, I said I'd go home. I faked a yawn and kissed her goodbye. 'Call me tomorrow,' she said. 'We can do something else.' I said I would. I left.

Driving home, I took it easy, going five or ten miles under the speed limit all the time. I was in no hurry. I wasn't really tired and I had no pressing business. I switched on the radio and sang along to the latest Hanson song that churned out of the speakers. Kids! I thought. And then I realised something: Elijah had only just turned eighteen. He was every bit as much the kid as these Hanson guys. Of course that didn't fully excuse what he done, but I had to check myself for being three-and-a-bit years older than him. I was still a kid too. Too young for something like this to effect me this way. I decided to talk to Elijah the next chance I had. I had no idea that chance would be so soon. When I pulled up in front of my apartment block, I noticed two people standing by the entrance. A man and a woman. They were hugging each other tenderly and I put them down to being lovers saying goodbye the best way lovers knew how. But I noticed they weren't kissing; just hugging.

I locked my car door and approached the entrance to the apartment block apprehensively. I did not want to disturb these two. When they turned to me I was horrified. It was Elijah... and his mother. I was struck with a sense of confusion, then I realised the hug had been merely a comforting one. I stopped in my tracks, staring at them. There was a moment's silence before Debbie spoke.

'Peter,' she said tersely, with a nod.

'Mrs Wood,' I responded, glancing at Elijah. I could see tears standing out on his eyes, one leaking down his left cheek, and I wanted so much to run to him and hold him, to tell him everything would be okay, that we'd work through this somehow. After all, I was over-reacting. It was my fault I hadn't spoken to him since the night of our union.

Elijah and his mother came down off the step and I then wanted to turn on my heels and run. But I didn't. And I couldn't say anything either. Why were they here? Then Debbie explained.

'Peter, Elijah has... told me something. Something that I've agreed to keep quiet, for now at least.' I was crushed. I knew what she was referring to. He had told her we had been lovers. I looked at him, tears on my own cheeks now, and he sobbed.

'I had to tell her, Peter,' he said in a hoarse voice, like he'd been crying all day. 'I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I... I love you with all my heart. Can't you see that? I'm sorry for what I did, but I didn't think it would turn out the way it did. Please...'

He looked at me and I was trying my hardest not to crumbled. I wanted so much to enfold him in my arms, but he had hurt me. And yet he was apologising, he was truly sorry. I could tell this was no act. What was I to do? I cried, my shoulders shaking, my head drooping, eyes staring at his feet for I could not look into his eyes. I wanted to resist. But I couldn't.

Looking up, my face must have revealed my acceptance. I did not say anything. Elijah knew. He slowly walked to me, cautiously, as if I might reject him, and said again, 'I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please. I- I-' And then he was in my arms. I wrapped him up in my body and hugged him tight, my eyes clenched against the onslaught of tears.

'I love you,' I blubbered. 'I can't believe I blanked you like that. I'm sorry. I love you. I love you.' In the surge of passion I felt at that moment, I did not care that Elijah's mother was standing next to us, and I showered his face with tender kisses, lavishing the feel of his soft skin on my lips. 'Don't ever scare me like that again,' I told him, holding his head in my hands and staring into his eyes.

'I won't. I promise. I love you. I won't ever.' He smiled through his tears and I could not help myself but kiss him full on the lips, right there in front of my apartment block, in front of his mom. When finally we broke the kiss to smile at each other, we noticed Debbie had left, obviously giving us some space. I took his hand. 'Come in side,' I said. 'I guess you mom didn't particularily want to watch us making out.'

He smiled and laughed giddily. 'Okay,' he said and we entered the building. We had to talk, but that could wait for a while first. There were more important things to attend to!

Sixteen

I looked up after he had cum in my mouth, a dribble of his juices trickling down my chin, and smiled at him. I loved him. How could I forgive myself for thinking I could live without him? That was the biggest mistake I could ever imagine doing.

He smiled back at me. 'I love you.'

'I know,' I replied. 'And I'm sorry for over-reacting like that.' I slipped up the bed and hugged him tight, afraid that another bout of tears was about to come on. 'I never doubted that you didn't love me. I'm sorry.'

Elijah looked at me, kissed me softly on the lips, and said, 'No, I'm sorry. For pulling that terrible prank. It's all my fault. If it weren't for me I wouldn't have missed you these last few days. I just thought it'd be a nice surprise, you turning up at the park and seeing me there in my tux with a spread of food for us. Foolish!'

'It wasn't foolish,' I said. 'You just went about it the wrong way. I thought you could have been dead or anything.'

Elijah said, 'I hadn't thought about that. Sorry.'

'Well you better think about it next time before you do get killed or something,' I joked. 'I don't want to be the one that has to dispose of your body! I was never any good at hide-and-seek.' We laughed, half-heartedly. It was a lame joke, but at least it eased the atmosphere - we'd have been apologizing all night if something wasn't said!

'So,' I finally said. 'Your mom knows now.' He nodded. 'Did she take it well?'

Shrugging, he said, 'I guess so. She brought me here, didn't she? I think she's fine with it. Initially it was shock and I thought, Oh no, what have I done? but she finally took it all in, processed all the information, went for a brisk walk and by the time she returned she told me she was behind me all the way.'

'Not literally behind you, I hope,' I smirked, slapping his bare buttock, the one raised off the bed as he was twisted to face me. Then we kissed again and we were back to normal, like nothing had ever happened to upset us. But then I broke the kiss and leapt from the bed. 'Come on,' I urged. When he asked where we were going I said, 'You're getting your tux and we're having dinner.'

'Now?' he laughed. 'But it's after midnight. My mom'll-' then he stopped. He looked into my eyes and changed his mind. Slowly a smile crept across his face, splitting his features into a gleeful grin, and he said, 'Okay. Let's go.'

Driving by his hotel, Elijah picked up his tux and changed in the back seat of my car as I drove to the nearest open Subway. I bought a couple of huge sandwiches, some Dr Pepper, and then we went back to the park and to the same bench that Elijah had set up the other day. Before we left my place, I donned a shirt and tie, the ones I'd wear to a job interview - I didn't have a tuxedo - and now we looked like a couple of dickheads, in the park, after midnight, eating Subway sandwiches!

But it was fun. We were lost in each other's eyes, mayo slipping down Elijah's chin. He wiped it off after I told him it was there, and kissed me, the smell of chicken and ham and salad on his breath. I laughed - just for the sake of laughing. I was giddy. I was with Elijah again, and this time it would last. I'd make sure of it.

When we had finished eating and drinking, I said, 'Not as elegant as what you had prepared, but not bad all the same.'

'No, it was excellent. Honest. I'm just glad we're back together.'

'Let's not talk about that "dark period". It was foolish, us not speaking. But it's over now and that's what counts.' He nodded, smiled, kissed me, and settled in beside me on the grass. 'You know,' I said, after a confortable silence, 'I could sit here all night, just with you and the clouds. It's perfect.'

He was about to say something when I stopped him. I felt something drop on my head. Then again. I looked up. Rain! 'Um, I think we're about to get horribly wet.' As I looked at him, I could see his hair was already getting matted to his head.

'I think we already are horribly wet,' he said, and then we kissed again, forgetting about the rain, forgetting about our clothes getting soaked. We just sat there and made out. Like I said, it was perfect!

Elijah slipped his tongue into my mouth and I relished the taste of him. Then he forced me down onto my back and flopped on top of me. We lay there in the rain, kissing, his hands playing through my drenched hair, my hands running down his back to his neat little buttocks. I had a thing about rain. Oh, and a thing about Elijah! How could this be any better? Well, Elijah reached to my pants and unzipped me. Now it couldn't get any better.

We were alone, anyone with any sense having abandoned the park at a reasonable hour, and now with the added bonus of rain, we were likely the only people in the park at all. As Elijah dug into my pants with a wet hand and grasped at my stiffening cock, I moaned loudly. 'Oh, man! This is... this is...' I had wanted to say 'brilliant' or 'excellent' or 'the best' but Elijah gave me no time. He whipped out my dick and started pounding on it, covering my mouth again with his own and then there was nothing but the silky sounds of passion and the heat from our bodies pressed together.

Then he went down on me, taking my meat in his hungry mouth and sucking for all he was worth. I pushed my hands through his hair and gasped as he worked magic on me. I needed to cum so badly now that I was sure it wouldn't take long. He lapped his tongue over my head and nibbled gently at the skin there, then engulfed me again, working up a vacuum in which he manipulated my orgasm. I was fast approaching the top. I could feel my sperm congregating at the base of my cock and readying to shoot forth into his mouth. But they were holding back for the right moment, doubling and tripling their numbers until they had enough strength to burst all barriers and explode into him. And he knew I was close, too. He sucked harder, pausing only long enough to say, 'Give it to me, Peter. Let me have it.' And then he continued as I thrust my hips forward time and time again into him.

'Ohhhh,' I breathed. 'I'm gonna cum. I'm nearly there... Oh, man! Eliiiijjjjaaaahhhhhhhhhh-hhhh.' I pushed forward and came, squirting ferociously, and he milked me dry, lapping up every drop of my cum and swallowing it all. I sighed. I was worn out. The rain danced on my face and I laughed. I couldn't help it. I was in love and it made me feel high! And with that, I threw Elijah back against the grass and returned the love. I undid his black, mud-smeared tuxedo pants and delved inside for his cock. Then I took it in my mouth and sucked like there was no tomorrow! His breathing became erratic very quickly and his hands were roaming over my head as he gasped and sighed and moaned. 'Oh, Peter... Unph... Oh God... Man, that's so nice. Uh-hh yeah... Ohhhh, yeah... Man... Peter... uhhh-unph. God...' And then he inhaled quickly and I knew he was about to cum. He pressed my head into his groin and I sucked harder and swallowed every last drop of him.

As I let his breathing become normal again before kissing him, I said, 'We must look a little disheveled! One would say one's mother may not be too kind to one if one returns home looking as one does.'

Elijah laughed and brushed at his pants in an attempt to get some of the grime off, unsuccessfully. 'You know of any twenty-four hour dry cleaners?' I shrugged. 'Can't think of any. There's a laundromat not far, but that tux probably says "Dry clean only", no doubt.'

'I don't care. I can't go back looking like this! Let's take the chance that the washing machine doesn't eat my clothes!' I nodded that we would, and then we dashed off out of the park towards the laundromat. We were going to take the car, but didn't want to get mud all over the upholstery so walked instead. We clasped hands and went through the streets in search of the laundromat (when I said I knew of it, I really meant I sort of knew where it was!), getting wetter by the minute.

Finally, we found it. Luckily no one was in it at this time, so we stripped off, down to our boxers, and threw our clothes into one of the washing machines. Then we sat there, talking aimlessly, and I couldn't help but get hard again, just looking at Elijah in his faded blue boxers. He smiled impishly at me and was about to jerk me off, when someone happened to come in. It was an old woman, just collecting her clothes out of a drier. I couldn't believe she walked off and left them there, without supervision! It took her ten minutes to sort out her clothes into neat little piles and then threw them carelessly into a large travel-bag and during that time, Elijah and I just sat there in silence, next to each other, in our boxer shorts until she finally smiled at us (almost knowingly??) and left.

As the door closed behind her, we burst into uncontrolled laughter. 'We - must've - looked - so - weird,' Elijah said between gasped of air and bouts of loud laughter. I couldn't agree more. And then he kissed me and we hugged until the washing machine clicked off. The drier followed, costing an extra $1.50 (I wasn't sure, but I thought that was kind of expensive, though it was worth it; I didn't want to upset Elijah's mother so soon after she found out about 'us'), and then we dressed again, unhurriedly, for we felt like we had all the time in the world together.

But we didn't. The following morning, Elijah would be told that the film crew were packing up and moving to a new location for more shooting. He would have to leave.

So, what will happen to the lovers? If Elijah must leave, what of Peter? Stay turned for the next installment, or surf to my own website for the full story (and the brand new sequel!): Go Here; or Email me. Thanks.