(no subject)
Title: Still Life
Pairing: Sir Ian McKellen/Dominic Monaghan
Rating: PG
Summary: It's not how old you feel it's.....
Disclaimer: Lies, damned lies. Every word.
Notes: Written for philomel because she's lovely and she puts up with my inability to grasp the rules of punctuation with unfailing grace. ¡♥!
Ian stared at his reflection in the mirror and sighed. No matter what angle he looked at himself from, there was no escaping the fact, that he looked old. And now, after all the twisting and turning he had been doing, his neck ached, and, that made him feel old. Ian glared at his reflection. His reflection glared back in all its baggy eyed, wrinkled browed glory. There was no getting away from it, he was old. Ian decided he had had quite enough of looking at the craggy visage in the mirror, thank you very much, so, he turned his back on it and walked to his favourite comfy armchair - another sign of his impending senility no doubt, the fact that he had a favourite chair and absolutely no one dared to sit in it, not even Dominic - sighing heavily again as he sank into its embrace.
Dom didn’t even look up from the book he was reading. Ian tried again. Summoning up all his years of acting experience he took a deep breath then let out a sigh that would have made Olivier applaud. Still no response. Clearly Dom’s book was much more interesting than the fact that Ian was so old he could feel his bones crumbling as he sat. Ian cleared his throat; if sighing didn’t work then he would just have to speak instead:
“I’m old.”
“Two sugars please.”
“What?” Ian was confused, what did sugar have to do with age? Was this some new slang that he was not young enough to understand?
Dom looked up from his book at last: “I’d love a cup of tea if you’re making one. Two sugars please.”
“I didn’t offer you a cup of tea, I said I was old.”
Dom closed his book and put it to one side: “Ah, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Tell me again.”
“I’m old.”
“Mature.”
“A fossil.”
“A classic.”
“Wrinkled.”
“Distinguished.”
“Antique.”
“Refined.”
“Geriatric.”
“Aged.”
“Decrepit… wait, what do you mean “Aged.”?”
“Aged, like a fine wine or a cheese.”
“Oh thank you very much Dominic. So I’m a cheese am I? I feel so much better now.” Ian turned his head away from Dom and pouted.
“It’s the only thing I could think of. I don’t know as many words for old as you do, haven’t been alive long enough to learn them all yet. Unlike some people in this room.”
“Oh ha ha Dominic, very funny. It’s not nice to make fun of the elderly you know.” Ian folded his arms across his chest and gave Dom his best hard stare. No effect. Dom just laughed at him. “I really must be getting old,” Ian thought to himself, “I used to be able to stop traffic with that stare.”
“Sorry mate, I’ll try to remember that. No mocking the afflicted. Anyway you’re not old. Don’t forget the saying, “you’re only as old as the man that you feel”. That makes you 28.”
Ian sighed again: “I don’t feel 28. I don’t even feel 66.I feel positively ancient.” Ian slumped down further into his chair and began to sulk. Across the room Dom stood up and, without saying a word, walked out of the room. “How rude!” Ian thought. “It’s all the same with young people today, no manners” A few moments later, accompanied by some mild swearing, Dom struggled into the room carrying a full length mirror on a stand.
“No, no it’s fine, I can manage. Don’t bother offering to help, wouldn’t want you to fall over and break a hip or something. There’s always a danger of that happening when a person gets as advanced in years as you.”
Ian had absolutely no intention of getting up to help Dom with whatever tomfoolery he was up to, and, he pointed this out by huffing in Dom’s general direction and closing his eyes. He was going to take a nap, that’s what old people did after all. And, as he was old, it was about time he started taking part in that particular pastime.
Ian felt arms being wrapped around his neck, and Dom’s face pressing up against his.
“Open you eyes old man. I know you’re not really asleep.”
Ian was feeling particularly petulant today so he refused to do as Dom asked. Instead, he once again drew on his years of training and gave the best performance of “old man asleep in a chair” that he had ever given in his life. Sadly, it wasn’t good enough. Ian was sure he actually heard Dom’s eyes roll as a finger poked into his ribs and a voice whispered in his ear:
“I know you’re not asleep, you’re not snoring.”
Ian opened his eyes. He was getting annoyed now. Another sign of his impending confinement in a resthome for aging luvvies, irritability:
“I do not snore.”
“I know.”
“Well, why did you suggest that I do?”
“I knew it would make you open your eyes. You get all stroppy whenever anyone says you snore. Now look in the mirror, that I have carefully positioned just close enough for you not to need your specs, and, tell me what you see.”
Ian made the number 3 sound on his list of noises to make when Dom was being annoying and did as he was told. He blinked and his reflection blinked back, “Jolly good thing it did” he thought, “Would have been most peculiar if it hadn’t.” As he looked he saw, as well as felt, Dom poke him in the ribs again. Ian moved up to number 2 on the irritated by Dom scale and scowled at his attacker in the mirror. Dom’s reflection poked his tongue out in response. Ian considered bringing out the big guns and letting loose with noise number 1. Hmmm tempting, but, it was probably easier to answer Dom’s question, that way he might be allowed to sit and rot in peace:
“I see an old fool and a young fool, who, by the way, is wearing much too much eyeliner today.” Ian raised his eyebrows at Dom via the mirror. Dom ignored him. Ian sighed and continued: “I see a man old enough to be your father, no, wait, make that your grandfather. Really Dominic, what on earth are you doing with an old relic like me?”
“I like mature men. But ease up on the father, grandfather talk if you are planning on us having sex at any time in the near future. I may be a kinky bastard but incest is not one of my things.”
“Duly noted. There will be no further mention of us having a blood relationship.” Ian was beginning to enjoy himself. He decided to keep that fact to himself though; it wouldn’t do to let Dom get too smug. “I am assuming you have a point to make Dominic, would you mind enlightening me to what it is before I age any further.”
“Not sure what the point was to be honest. Seemed like a good idea at the time, haven’t really thought it through yet.” Dom paused. Ian watched him in the mirror, Dom really did look most delightful when he was confused. Suddenly Dom’s eyes widened and Ian could have sworn he saw a cartoon light bulb flash up above Dom’s head. Sign of aging number 963: Eyesight failing. Dom was speaking again, Ian decided to pay attention, it was only polite to encourage the young.
“Look in the mirror and tell me the things that make you feel old.”
It was Ian’s turn to roll his eyes now, so roll them he did. They were going to be here all night at this rate.
“My hair. It’s grey.”
“I like grey.”
In the mirror Ian saw Dom place a kiss on the top of his grey hair. Perhaps grey wasn’t so bad after all.
“My forehead. It’s wrinkled.”
Another kiss. “I like wrinkles.”
“My eyes. They have bags under them.”
“So do mine mate, it’s a sign of good-living not age.”
“Does that mean I don’t get a kiss.” Ian watched as his reflection pouted. He really should stop doing that, so unseemly. Dom’s reflection raised an eyebrow as if to agree.
“It’s a bit tricky to kiss your eyes from this angle. Plus it’s kind of an unpleasant idea, kissing someone’s eyeballs.” Dom’s reflection pulled a disgusted face. Ian’s quirked an eyebrow.
“What if I close my eyes and turn my head like this…”
“Ah, much better.”
Ian felt Dom’s lips brush against his eyelids. When it seemed safe to do so he opened his eyes but kept his face turned towards Dom. He was getting bored with staring in the mirror.
“My lips. They’re….old.”
“Is that the best you can come up with?”
“Improvisation has never been my strong point. I prefer a script.”
“Sorry, if I had known I would have prepared one.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“Bossy aren’t we?”
There was nothing else for it. Ian made noise number 1 on the Dom is a cheeky bastard list. As usual, it had no effect on Dom whatsoever. Ian pouted. Dom rolled his eyes and kissed him.
“Better?”
“Yes thank you, very much so. I shall now be able to advance into senility with a smile on my face.”
“Anything else bothering you?”
Dom’s gaze had returned to the mirror. Confused, and, a little worried, Ian followed his lead. What other imperfection of age had Dom spotted?
“How’s everything down below?”
Ian, directed by the pointing of Dom’s finger, looked down.
“Any problems with infirmity in that region? I can check it out if you want, make sure everything is in working order so to speak.”
“Why you cheeky…. “ Realisation dawned on Ian and he laughed out loud. “I suppose that was your idea in the first place. All this nonsense about liking grey hair was just a rouse.”
Dom broke out number 6 on his list of cheeky grins - Cheeky with a hint of lewdness about the edges - and nodded his head in affirmation.
As Dom moved round the chair, blocking Ian’s view of the mirror for a brief moment, Ian decided that, really, he quite liked looking in the mirror after all.
Pairing: Sir Ian McKellen/Dominic Monaghan
Rating: PG
Summary: It's not how old you feel it's.....
Disclaimer: Lies, damned lies. Every word.
Notes: Written for philomel because she's lovely and she puts up with my inability to grasp the rules of punctuation with unfailing grace. ¡♥!
Ian stared at his reflection in the mirror and sighed. No matter what angle he looked at himself from, there was no escaping the fact, that he looked old. And now, after all the twisting and turning he had been doing, his neck ached, and, that made him feel old. Ian glared at his reflection. His reflection glared back in all its baggy eyed, wrinkled browed glory. There was no getting away from it, he was old. Ian decided he had had quite enough of looking at the craggy visage in the mirror, thank you very much, so, he turned his back on it and walked to his favourite comfy armchair - another sign of his impending senility no doubt, the fact that he had a favourite chair and absolutely no one dared to sit in it, not even Dominic - sighing heavily again as he sank into its embrace.
Dom didn’t even look up from the book he was reading. Ian tried again. Summoning up all his years of acting experience he took a deep breath then let out a sigh that would have made Olivier applaud. Still no response. Clearly Dom’s book was much more interesting than the fact that Ian was so old he could feel his bones crumbling as he sat. Ian cleared his throat; if sighing didn’t work then he would just have to speak instead:
“I’m old.”
“Two sugars please.”
“What?” Ian was confused, what did sugar have to do with age? Was this some new slang that he was not young enough to understand?
Dom looked up from his book at last: “I’d love a cup of tea if you’re making one. Two sugars please.”
“I didn’t offer you a cup of tea, I said I was old.”
Dom closed his book and put it to one side: “Ah, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Tell me again.”
“I’m old.”
“Mature.”
“A fossil.”
“A classic.”
“Wrinkled.”
“Distinguished.”
“Antique.”
“Refined.”
“Geriatric.”
“Aged.”
“Decrepit… wait, what do you mean “Aged.”?”
“Aged, like a fine wine or a cheese.”
“Oh thank you very much Dominic. So I’m a cheese am I? I feel so much better now.” Ian turned his head away from Dom and pouted.
“It’s the only thing I could think of. I don’t know as many words for old as you do, haven’t been alive long enough to learn them all yet. Unlike some people in this room.”
“Oh ha ha Dominic, very funny. It’s not nice to make fun of the elderly you know.” Ian folded his arms across his chest and gave Dom his best hard stare. No effect. Dom just laughed at him. “I really must be getting old,” Ian thought to himself, “I used to be able to stop traffic with that stare.”
“Sorry mate, I’ll try to remember that. No mocking the afflicted. Anyway you’re not old. Don’t forget the saying, “you’re only as old as the man that you feel”. That makes you 28.”
Ian sighed again: “I don’t feel 28. I don’t even feel 66.I feel positively ancient.” Ian slumped down further into his chair and began to sulk. Across the room Dom stood up and, without saying a word, walked out of the room. “How rude!” Ian thought. “It’s all the same with young people today, no manners” A few moments later, accompanied by some mild swearing, Dom struggled into the room carrying a full length mirror on a stand.
“No, no it’s fine, I can manage. Don’t bother offering to help, wouldn’t want you to fall over and break a hip or something. There’s always a danger of that happening when a person gets as advanced in years as you.”
Ian had absolutely no intention of getting up to help Dom with whatever tomfoolery he was up to, and, he pointed this out by huffing in Dom’s general direction and closing his eyes. He was going to take a nap, that’s what old people did after all. And, as he was old, it was about time he started taking part in that particular pastime.
Ian felt arms being wrapped around his neck, and Dom’s face pressing up against his.
“Open you eyes old man. I know you’re not really asleep.”
Ian was feeling particularly petulant today so he refused to do as Dom asked. Instead, he once again drew on his years of training and gave the best performance of “old man asleep in a chair” that he had ever given in his life. Sadly, it wasn’t good enough. Ian was sure he actually heard Dom’s eyes roll as a finger poked into his ribs and a voice whispered in his ear:
“I know you’re not asleep, you’re not snoring.”
Ian opened his eyes. He was getting annoyed now. Another sign of his impending confinement in a resthome for aging luvvies, irritability:
“I do not snore.”
“I know.”
“Well, why did you suggest that I do?”
“I knew it would make you open your eyes. You get all stroppy whenever anyone says you snore. Now look in the mirror, that I have carefully positioned just close enough for you not to need your specs, and, tell me what you see.”
Ian made the number 3 sound on his list of noises to make when Dom was being annoying and did as he was told. He blinked and his reflection blinked back, “Jolly good thing it did” he thought, “Would have been most peculiar if it hadn’t.” As he looked he saw, as well as felt, Dom poke him in the ribs again. Ian moved up to number 2 on the irritated by Dom scale and scowled at his attacker in the mirror. Dom’s reflection poked his tongue out in response. Ian considered bringing out the big guns and letting loose with noise number 1. Hmmm tempting, but, it was probably easier to answer Dom’s question, that way he might be allowed to sit and rot in peace:
“I see an old fool and a young fool, who, by the way, is wearing much too much eyeliner today.” Ian raised his eyebrows at Dom via the mirror. Dom ignored him. Ian sighed and continued: “I see a man old enough to be your father, no, wait, make that your grandfather. Really Dominic, what on earth are you doing with an old relic like me?”
“I like mature men. But ease up on the father, grandfather talk if you are planning on us having sex at any time in the near future. I may be a kinky bastard but incest is not one of my things.”
“Duly noted. There will be no further mention of us having a blood relationship.” Ian was beginning to enjoy himself. He decided to keep that fact to himself though; it wouldn’t do to let Dom get too smug. “I am assuming you have a point to make Dominic, would you mind enlightening me to what it is before I age any further.”
“Not sure what the point was to be honest. Seemed like a good idea at the time, haven’t really thought it through yet.” Dom paused. Ian watched him in the mirror, Dom really did look most delightful when he was confused. Suddenly Dom’s eyes widened and Ian could have sworn he saw a cartoon light bulb flash up above Dom’s head. Sign of aging number 963: Eyesight failing. Dom was speaking again, Ian decided to pay attention, it was only polite to encourage the young.
“Look in the mirror and tell me the things that make you feel old.”
It was Ian’s turn to roll his eyes now, so roll them he did. They were going to be here all night at this rate.
“My hair. It’s grey.”
“I like grey.”
In the mirror Ian saw Dom place a kiss on the top of his grey hair. Perhaps grey wasn’t so bad after all.
“My forehead. It’s wrinkled.”
Another kiss. “I like wrinkles.”
“My eyes. They have bags under them.”
“So do mine mate, it’s a sign of good-living not age.”
“Does that mean I don’t get a kiss.” Ian watched as his reflection pouted. He really should stop doing that, so unseemly. Dom’s reflection raised an eyebrow as if to agree.
“It’s a bit tricky to kiss your eyes from this angle. Plus it’s kind of an unpleasant idea, kissing someone’s eyeballs.” Dom’s reflection pulled a disgusted face. Ian’s quirked an eyebrow.
“What if I close my eyes and turn my head like this…”
“Ah, much better.”
Ian felt Dom’s lips brush against his eyelids. When it seemed safe to do so he opened his eyes but kept his face turned towards Dom. He was getting bored with staring in the mirror.
“My lips. They’re….old.”
“Is that the best you can come up with?”
“Improvisation has never been my strong point. I prefer a script.”
“Sorry, if I had known I would have prepared one.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
“Bossy aren’t we?”
There was nothing else for it. Ian made noise number 1 on the Dom is a cheeky bastard list. As usual, it had no effect on Dom whatsoever. Ian pouted. Dom rolled his eyes and kissed him.
“Better?”
“Yes thank you, very much so. I shall now be able to advance into senility with a smile on my face.”
“Anything else bothering you?”
Dom’s gaze had returned to the mirror. Confused, and, a little worried, Ian followed his lead. What other imperfection of age had Dom spotted?
“How’s everything down below?”
Ian, directed by the pointing of Dom’s finger, looked down.
“Any problems with infirmity in that region? I can check it out if you want, make sure everything is in working order so to speak.”
“Why you cheeky…. “ Realisation dawned on Ian and he laughed out loud. “I suppose that was your idea in the first place. All this nonsense about liking grey hair was just a rouse.”
Dom broke out number 6 on his list of cheeky grins - Cheeky with a hint of lewdness about the edges - and nodded his head in affirmation.
As Dom moved round the chair, blocking Ian’s view of the mirror for a brief moment, Ian decided that, really, he quite liked looking in the mirror after all.
