Ladder

TITLE: Ladder

AUTHOR: BlackDiamondGrrl

EMAIL: cherrybaby1@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em, damn it. I could only dream of that. So none of this happened. But we can dream. The title comes from a song by Joan Osborne- lyrics (at the start of each chapter) used by permission. // denotes inner thoughts.

DISTRIBUTION:Fandomination; AFF;PBU. Ask me for any other places.

SPOILERS: none

PAIRING: Elijah Wood/Hayden Christensen

SUMMARY: Who knows who you'll meet when you decide to go out at night...it could be the least likely person in the world....

FEEDBACK: Always accepted! Feel free. :-)

RATING: NC17

AUTHOR’S NOTE: NONE of this happened. Last notice on that. :-) I thoroughly adore both of these bois, so this fic is done out of love. Thanks to all my supporters, including Jai (who loves this pairing for the cuteness factor), Cyn (bestest friend and also nuturer of this fic) and Gabe, my sweet boi in Oz, who read this first and deemed it good and hot. You guys rock my world.


CHAPTER ONE

"I'm standin' here in your closet
Unbuttonin' all your clothes
I sleep in your bed tonight
But I never find you home
You're givin' me crooked answers
I'm crackin' your little code
I'm learnin' another language
So full it's about to explode..."

He normally didn’t like to go out in the city by himself, but he really had no choice, not if he wanted to stay sane while here. And at any rate, he couldn’t stand to look at another ‘made for cable’ movie by himself.

He got up and walked over to the hotel window, opening the shades enough to look through to the city. Not a fantastic view, as they went, but fair enough to live with. Dusk was creeping around the edges of the city, so that he could still see people walking on the sidewalks below from his twelfth story window, moving more like dark streams of humanity towards cabs, subways and busses, heading to homes, apartments, night jobs and endless other places.

He wanted to be down there with them. He needed to be there.

Moving from the window, he went back to his bed and sat down on the edge, lying back with a sigh. He didn’t want any lights on yet- he liked this time of day, the suspension of light and dark…just enough light to see shapes, and just enough dark to feel free. He smiled.

//Free,// he thought to himself. Folding his hands over his stomach, he closed his eyes, deciding what he wanted to do once night was full and deep. After he decided this….then he would take his time.

//The movies would be too obvious….I spend too much time on sets… and no plays- I just want something fun…something for me….I am at the theatre 12 hours or more out of the day as it is…..I suppose I could go to a hockey game, or a basketball game….// He shook his head. No doubt he could do this, but just to go a game without feeling anything for either team would be just a wasted exercise.

The sound of a cell phone. He dug into his pants pocket and pulled it out, looking at the number. He pressed the button and put it to his ear.

‘Hello?’

‘Hayden? You’re not busy, are you?’

He gave a small smile. ‘Nah, just lying on my bed.’

‘Lazy bastard.’

‘Fuck off, man,’ he laughed. ‘I haven’t been in the room long.’

‘You shouldn’t be *in* the room. You’re in one of the most energetic cities in the fucking world, and where are you? Lying down like some old man.’

‘I assume that is this going someplace, Kelly.’

‘You need to go out, Hayden. Come on, you and I both know this. You work like a slave, man.’

‘I am doing a play, Kel. It’s not a nine to five job, you know.’

‘But you have been there, what? Five, six weeks?’

‘Eight.’

‘Two fucking months, and what have ya done besides go rehearse and then go back to the room?’

‘I have gone out a few times, Kel. I am not a total case.’

‘At the risk sounding like a California guy…..Dude, you need to go out and get nuts.’

He chuckled. ‘Duude…. I am not the ‘get nuts’ type of guy. You know that. Anyways, I plan to go out tonight. When it gets later. Maybe hit a club or something.’

‘About damn time. As many clubs as there are in the city, you could go out every night for the next three months and not hit the same one twice.’

‘True enough.’

‘And it’s Friday, man. You *need* to go out. It’s like, a requisite.’

‘Okay, Kel, I get the fucking point already.’

Kelly laughed. ‘Anyways, when I talk to you again, you had better gone out more than this one time.’

‘We’ll see.’

‘You’re weak, Hayden.’

‘Fuck off. You work on a play for two months 14 to 16 hours a day, and see how much energy you have.’

‘That’s your job.’

‘Exactly, so lay off on how old I act.’

‘Take a pill, guy. I’ll yell at ya later.’

‘Later.’ He pressed the ‘call’ button and then dropped the phone on the bed next to his head. It was now dark in his room, and he slid a hand under his head, closing his eyes. He wasn’t really tired, not like he told Kelly he was. He didn’t really get tired, even after 14 hour days, run throughs and dress rehearsals. Even the media and photo shoots didn’t sap him.

He had to admit what did make him tired. The fact that he was in this city, and he hadn’t even gotten past kissing a soul since he got here. For all of his supposed good looks, he found himself staring at the bottom of a glass of beer on a Saturday night last week…and the week before, in a bar with a couple of understudies, he tried to hit on a cute college girl who was there with a couple of friends, and got shot down. He thought he heard her say something to the effect of ‘He thinks he’s all that because he’s in a movie…he’s not even that cute.’

That makes a guy feel good, no doubt. Didn’t stop her from trying to get with the other understudy because, ‘Maybe you could get me his autograph.’

He chuckled to himself. He didn’t think he was all that, but he wasn’t *that* bad. People were funny, for sure.

And at his age, he needed to catch up on some serious making out.

He rolled over on his left side and curled up. //Just one kiss,// he thought. //A kiss would be nice….a nice, soft kiss….//

//When I wake up…definitely…//

He woke up around 10:30, stiff from lying awkwardly, and sat up from the bed. He slipped from the bed, then walked over to a lamp and switched it on. He passed a mirror as he walked to the bathroom and paused. He wasn’t too bad looking, he thought. Tall, nice hair, trim body…most people said his best feature was his mouth, but he thought his eyes were his most attractive asset. Slightly hooded, almost sleepy…. Blue bedroom . Wh. When he smiled, he thought that it made them seductive. And he smiled often.
He gave his reflection a grin, and went to shower. He was gonna make his night, one way or another.


12:30. West Village. He found himself deposited in front of an obviously Gothic themed club. He stepped out of the cab, and surveyed the scene. Patterns of black lace, leather, vinyl, PVC and metallic fabrics draped those on line and those leaving the club. He’d heard of this club through an understudy, who lived in the city, but wasn’t into the ‘fakeness’ of the scene, or so he said. Hayden was only vaguely knowledgeable about it, but he knew enough to not stick out. He’d checked himself out before he left, and was sure that Kelly would think he was out of his mind.

The simple, clean cut look that he usually wore was replaced by metallic eyeshadow, black eyeliner, a slight covering of blush, spiked hair and dark red lipstick, darker than the normal red, closer to a rust or crimson color. He didn’t normally wear makeup, but he wasn’t adverse to wearing eyeliner when he went out, just for accent and fun. He was dressed in black leathers, black Doc Martens and a shiny formfitting long-sleeved silver shirt. He’d permanently borrowed a leather cuff from his ‘Life as a House’ costume, and found a couple of silver rings as well since he’d been here. The only thing missing was the nail polish, but he decided that he was good enough as is. He grinned, and looked like a gothic sex toy.

He paid the cab driver and strolled towards the end of a short line, behind two very cute Goth girls in velvet and lace, pale skin and Siouxsie eyes. He smiled at them and they giggled a bit.

//So far, so good,// he thought.

The wait wasn’t long, and besides, he didn’t mind eyeing who was going before him. He could feel his eyes ache already just taking in all of the pretty made-up faces of the girls and boys surrounding the entrance and sliding in and out of the club. Girls in punk and glitter gear, like some cross between Joan Jett and Debbie Harry, with a bit of Robert Smith thrown in; and the boys, ranging from Bauhaus-era Murphy to bleached blonde Martin Gore, and every subculture of Gothic, Industrial or Electronic music that ever existed. A girl with a nose, lip and eyebrow ring and bright punk clothing working the door slid a band around his wrist, and gave him a quick look. He grinned a little bit at her, but she just glared at him with a jaded look. //Off to a roaring start already, Hayden,// he thought ruefully.

As he entered the club, the sounds of early Sisters of Mercy washed over his ears, and though he’d never heard of them, he found himself quite taken by the music. He slipped past small throngs of velvet, leather, vinyl and lace….and it didn’t matter on which one it was. The lighting was sketchy at best, as befitting club lighting, but even more so due to the club style. The dancefloor was partially covered with groups of dancers….well, one could call them dancers, of a sort. They seemed to move in a very old fashioned style, all sweeping hand movements and patterned steps- painting the air, gliding across the floor, hands moving behind, down and in front of slightly gyrating bodies, in a almost careless manner.

//Gothic dancing,// he thought. //It doesn’t look that hard….// He moved closer, observing the loose groups. The music slipped from the Sisters to the darker period of Depeche with ‘Fly on the Windscreen-Final’, and without any sounds or talking, the dancefloor swelled with more dancers, all in variations of the movements he just observed. Not that it was especially soundless in the club, but just the almost telepathic pull towards the source of sound was new to him.

He eased on the floor, staying close enough to the edge to be able to slip away should he embarrass himself. The melody hit him somewhere around the middle of his body, and slid into the rest of his body like air- through his fingertips and chest, down all the vessels in his legs and back up, and he felt slightly disoriented. He placed his hands over his stomach and Hayden swore he could feel the music filling him up.

//This is crazy. This makes no sense.//

But it made him move….made him move his arms down from his stomach, glancing over his thighs, and then back up, tipping his head back slightly, and his shoulders found the downbeat, picking it up and pulling him with it. His hands moved from his body, finding shapes to draw, and his legs lost their stiffness, and found a rhythm.

The group closest to him, made up mostly of girls, and a couple of heavily made up boys, stopped for a moment, looking at this newcomer, swaying like he was possessed by the music. Even when the music changed into early Gene Loves Jezebel, his body adjusted to it accordingly, the sounds of ‘Theno Pno Plasty’ from their Immigrant cd weaving Welsh voices around winding guitars and a distinct underpinning of melodic goth style. This was not an easy song to flow with, but Hayden would not have known that- it was all winding through him now.

A couple of the girls smiled at this tall, pretty boy dancing as though he’d been possessed. His eyes closed a bit as he moved, not really caring now saw him or what they would think. Without a word, the group wound their way around him and encircled him, in a silent gesture of acceptance. When his eyes opened shortly and saw this, he was a bit thrown, until he realized that he had not been himself, and that was fine with him.

Songs slipped in and out, and for an hour he wound his way around the floor, to the sounds of The Cure, Skinny Puppy, Ministry, Siouxsie, Apoptygma Berzerk and Love and Rockets, among others. During a Jesus and Mary Chain song, he eased from the group with a small smile, and many of the girls were actually hurt by this- it wasn’t too often that a natural pretty thing slipped into this club and into a clique in a few hours time. But with a silent nod saying that he’d be back, he moved from the now crowded floor and made his way towards the bar.

It was three deep, but he was tall enough to get the bartender’s attention and get a bottle of beer- domestic, but he would live. He moved closer to pay for it and nudged a body to the right of him. He said loudly, ‘Sorry, my fault.’

‘S’okay, I’m used to it.’

He looked down slightly into a pair of wide and brilliant eyes, smudged with eyeliner and shadow, full lips either colored red or naturally so. Or so the light- what there was of it- at the bar could help him make out. Wildly spiked hair completed the face, one that looked very underage- 17 at the oldest- but his manner was quite easily of one older.

‘When you’re my height, you get knocked over a lot,’ the lips said over the music, then smiled.

Hayden felt a strangely alien feeling curl into his stomach, and move south quickly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a wholly unwanted reaction.

Hands cupped a bottle of beer, then raised it to those lips and drained what was left in it. Lowering the bottle, the lips spoke again.

‘Beer’s here.’

Hayden blinked the looked at the bar, where the beer was. He quickly picked it up and said, ‘Uh thanks.’

‘Jordan.’

‘Jordan?,” he said, confused.

Laughter. ‘My name. It’s Jordan.’

‘Oh,” he said. ‘Sorry.’

‘Quit apologizing. It’s cool. What’s yours?’

A bit off guard, he said, ‘Hayden.’

A wide grin, innocent and yet…not. ‘Cool.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, a small smile on his face.

‘Nice smile, Hayden.’

His eyes widened slightly, and he bit his lower lip.

A hand raised to his face, lightly brushing his cheek. ‘Don’t do that. Smiling is nicer. Especially when you do it.’

//Damn,// Hayden mused. //It doesn’t get any weirder than this. Some pretty creature is…hitting on me? Am I still awake?//

‘I gotta ask…do you always look this good, or did I luck out?’

‘Huh?’

Eyes observed him. ‘ Hmmm….I think this is a daily thing for you. I mean, it was in that movie you did…’

He paused. ‘Sorry?’

‘That movie, the one where you looked pretty all the time? You know which one I mean.’

He studied the face. Now that *he* thought about it, this one looked vaguely familiar too….but he was damned if he could remember now. The music was still buzzing in him in a big way, the alcohol had warmed him…. And now some devilishly good looking pretty….girl, guy?, was hitting on him. //Not with that voice,// he mused.

‘You’re a guy,’ he muttered to him.

‘Umm…yeah,’ he said, then laughed. ‘Last I checked.’

His face was on the borderline of male/female, with parts of each, and yet one didn’t overpower the other. That stirring he’d felt earlier was back again….and with good reason. This boi was fucking edible, from his dark shirt down to what looked to be skintight leathers…ones that left little for the mind to dream about. His eyes darted away for a moment.

//Fuck….am I perving on this *guy*? No way….// But he looked at him again, and Jordan cocked a grin at him, those eyes now looking more naughty than nice. Hayden had a sudden thought hit him…and he wondered how good those lips that he noticed would feel against his.

//I am so *screwed*.//