The Wrath at Cannes

Author: Stoney321
Title: The Wrath at Cannes
Rating: Adult - NC-17?
Pairing: Ewan McGregor/Hayden Christensen - RPS
Disclaimer: RPS is a dream, baby. A lovely, lovely, porny dream. But not real. That I *know* of. THIS IS ABOUT TWO MEN. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT TYPE OF STORY - DON'T READ. Should be simple... It's in the warning, for Pete's sake. If the thought of a story about REAL MALE ACTORS having sex disturbs you, or that one is married in real life... if this bothers you... DON'T READ THIS FIC. I find it perplexing that you would read it and be upset when you are being warned. Seriously. However, if you LIKE RPS (Not RPG - S, folks) then this is quite possibly the fic for you. Flaming me after you've been warned is silly. Flaming PERIOD is silly. Con-crit? Yes, please.
Summary: influenced by the fantastic footage (it's real!! OMG - it's CANON!) of Ewan coming to Hayden in line at Cannes and planting a wet one on his happy, happy face. Mmmm. Can't let it end there, can we?
A/N: Oh, how happy reviews make me.... Thanks for taking the time, if you do.
A/N Dyoo Someone who wants to ruin my fun, punny title (come on! Wrath at Cannes? Am I the only ST fan here?) has informed me that while my eyes glazed over from the pretty boy kissing that it was caught at the LONDON premiere of RotS, and not the showing at Cannes. But the title remains because I loveses it. But I have been checked and corrected. Sigh.

The Wrath at Cannes

Ewan really enjoyed being European. Having spent a few years on set with several American actors and their hangups, it was fantastic to be back in France where a man could still be a man even if he kissed his co-worker with a stiffy showing through his dress trousers. European men could kiss and not bat an eye. American men, on the other hand, were so adorable when those European men kissed them, cameras clicking away. Ewan was a prick, and he reveled in it. After all, isn't that what big-shot movie stars did? Well, there was that really cool Johnny Depp fellow, but he used to get around on his sets before he met his beloved.

Ewan made a point of finding a seat in the theater with a view of Hayden after that kiss. Two rows back and several seats over so he could keep his eye on the boy. So he could smirk while watching the younger man secretly search the theater. So he could rub his hand over the front of his pants as he caught Hayden noticing him and doing the same. Godammit, did George have to keep EVERY scene? This is going to take forever.

After the showing and the applause, the upper echelon were allowed beyond the velvet ropes to the after-party. It took Ewan three passes to find someone who was serving anything other than Champagne. Ah, Glenmorangie. And all the way into a corner of the ballroom, as if the bartender was ashamed of the brown liquid and was hiding behind some potted plants. Ewan got a bit homesick when the pungent liquid hit the back of his throat. Felt his breathing relax, slow. Let his eyes close for a brief moment. When he opened them, Hayden was standing in front of him. So close that Ewan had to tilt his head back a bit, or relinquish their close quarters.

"What do you think? Did you like it?"

"Could have been longer."

"Are you mad? I'd say it was quite long enough."

"Not the movie, dumbass." Hayden's grin spread to his eyes, then suddenly, he dropped his face to his glass and drank his beer quickly, long lashes hiding his bright eyes.

Ewan took note of the lack of revelers around them and leaned forward, letting his fingers tug on the front of Hayden's shirt to draw him closer and down. Ewan traced his tongue over Hayden's full lower lip, gave it a nip, then let the boy go, grinning as he saw Hayden sway on his feet, eyes still at half-mast.

"Really, Hayden. Budweiser? Didn't I teach you anything about beer? For fuck's sake."

"Man, you have got to stop doing that! Anyone could see us."

"Let's just take care of that then, shall we? Top floor of the Ritz, not the Penthouse, though. Top floor of the public rooms. Number 1214. Lovely corner apartment. See you in a few."

Ewan drew a finger down and slightly under the button placket of Hayden's shirt, gave his waistband a tug, and then turned and left. He smiled and waived to the paparazzi lining the street wanting to catch a glimpse of any of the stars there for Cannes, scribbled his mark on a few pictures and T-shirts, laughed as a woman teared up and kissed his hand, then smiled and waved farewell as he climbed into his car. Once safe and moving, he lay back on the seat, hands scrubbing over his face, legs akimbo.

"It's about fucking time," he muttered to himself.

Due to his status, he was allowed a private entrance and elevator to his floor. He laughed to himself thinking of all the girls camped out in the foyer and how they would be crawling all over Hayden when he arrived. Damn. He might chicken out. Ewan punched a few numbers on his cell. Straight to voice mail. Fuck.

"Listen. Go around to the side. There's a private elevator. I'll tell them to expect you. They are the very definition of discreet. See you in a few." A statement, not a question.

Ewan let his things fall off of him as he entered his suite. Shoes kicked off in a half-hop as he headed straight for the shower. With the water as hot as he could stand, and all four shower heads blasting over his body, he finally felt relaxed - as if the past several years were coming to a head. Quickly, he scrubbed himself clean, then remained in the shower as he heard a door open and Hayden thank the bellman. He lingered, hoping Hayden would take the hint. He kept one ear to the door and heard the tinkling of a glass, and the sound of the bed settling as someone sank onto it. Huh. Ewan shut the water off. Maybe this wasn't going to happen after all.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

Ewan came out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and walked into his suite, rubbing his chest dry. He made sure to pass close to the bed, then bend forward and retrieve his robe from the back of the chair where he left it earlier. He wanted Hayden to touch him, but that still didn't prepare him for the tentative fingertips that barely grazed the fine hairs of his backside, nor the cool air when they quickly pulled back.

"I... I'm a little drunk, dude."

Ewan stood and turned towards the bed. Hayden was sitting on the edge, leaning back and resting on his elbows, shirt unbuttoned, skinny, black tie loose around his neck, hair rumpled. His eyes were fighting to stay open, and appeared to be losing. Hayden was a very good actor, with the right material. Ewan took a step so that he was positioned between the boy's legs. Ewan brought the towel up to his head and rubbed his hair dry, body completely exposed. He didn't fail to notice Hayden's eyes widen slightly.

"Are you now? See, I don't think you are, yet. Then again, I'm Scots, so we don't think a man's drunk if he can still grab the floor." Grinning widely, he tossed the towel about his shoulders, hands gripping the ends. "Hayden."

Hayden let his arms slide out and crashed back onto the bed, one arm coming up and draping over his eyes. "Fuck, man. What?"

The bed shifted slightly with Ewan's weight. "Hayden."

"Yeah."

"Your turn. Kiss me."

"Man, what are we doing?"

Ewan let his fingertips trace down the hardness lying slightly canted to the zipper of the boy's trousers. When he saw Hayden shift and press his hips down and then slightly upwards against the teasing pressure of Ewan's hand, he spoke again, making sure his long bangs tickled the boy's ear as he spoke, "Hayden."

The smallest of noises. Not quite a gasp, not quite an "oh." The fingertips pressed more firmly, then more gently and they traced their path lower, making small circles. Hayden kept his eyes closed, but let his arm slide off his face, fingers grazing naked, warm flesh. Ewan shifted so his head was closer, bangs tickling ruddy cheeks. Warm breath caressing full, red lips. "Hayden."

The small noise was definitely an "uh." Ewan leaned closer and let his lips tickle the tiny puckering of skin at the corner of Hayden's mouth. "Hayden."

Gentle pressure upwards, a hand sliding up and behind, fingertips grazing on the freshly shaved neck and up into the long, slightly wavy hair. Mouth pressure increasing. When Ewan feels a tongue trace the edge of his teeth and stroke his own tongue, he puts his weight on both hands to the sides of Hayden's shoulders, holding the boy's head. A leg slides over trousers, thigh muscle flexing over cock, rubbing, sliding, until naked thigh is now trapping trousered legs between. Exposed hardness strokes upwards against the silken material, a body straining with the effort of tracing the outline of the boy's cock with his own. Unsure hands reach up and around to grip and then squeeze. Kisses deepen, breathing comes in gasps now, nips taken are at times gentle, at times meaning to draw blood. Thumbs and fingers soothe away the worst of the bites.

Ewan breathes into Hayden's mouth, "More." He rest his forehead against Hayden's, rocking up as the boy traces fingertips over long lashes, hands leaving to travel down and unbuckle pants. Hips raise, pressing bodies together as two sets of hands reach for trousers and briefs, Ewan's foot taking them the remaining distance so his hands can hold the boy again.

"I... Man, I-"

"Shhh." A kiss for silence, fingertips over skull to soothe, lips on the hollow between collarbones to encourage. Ewan lingers, tongue tracing circles to be kissed away. Hands in his hair, gentle at first, gripping and pressure, then gentle again. Ewan settles himself between Hayden's legs and slides downward, fingers raking through trimmed curls. A shuddery gasp from Hayden as a rough tongue traces the distance from base to tip, an exhale as Ewan takes him in, fingers outside of his mouth in an O.

Hands are no longer gripping Ewan's hair, but begin to stroke it, move through it. Ewan puts his left hand flat against the hard belly above him, thumb working back and forth. Hayden covers it with his own. Gasping from Hayden as Ewan begins to move up and down more quickly, hand leaving belly to knead and tug gently below. A thumb slips away and traces tender skin behind. Slips into a new, secret place. Leaves, is wetted in Ewan's mouth, then returns. Hayden gasps and half sits up, cradles Ewan's head in his arms, but loosely. Ewan smiles, briefly, and swirls his tongue over the tip, then sucks back down hard, other hand continuing to pump along with his mouth, but with a slight twist and squeeze. The secret thumb is moving in and out in time with his other actions.

Hayden begins to shake, then stiffens as he climaxes. As Ewan swallows, his mouth tightens over the boy and the friction elicits a low moan. Ewan snakes two arms around Hayden's narrow waist and rests his cheek against the hard belly there. Hayden rocks him gently, muttering. Ewan pulls back a bit and makes out that Hayden is repeating, "Fuck. Me."

Ewan pulls away, lays on his back, smiles, and replies, "Oh, I plan on it. That was your turn. Now it's mine."

~TBC