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nekoshininigami.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2004-08-14 04:51 am
nekoshininigami.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-08-14 04:51 am
Fic: DM/EW, PG
Title:Collector's Item
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nekoshininigami
Rating: PG for veerrryy minor use of language.
Disclaimer: Never happened.
Summary: Elijah collects things, and Dom is nosy.
Feedback: Always makes me smile.
Elijah collects things. CDs, records, movies, shoes, jackets...he has a collection of collections. Christ, the guy's been making money since the age of eight; he can afford to support any hobby he happens to pick up. His house is a smorgasbord of interesting things to look at, to find, to listen to. It could entertain a bored, young man for hours on end, which is precisely what it ends up doing.
Elijah is at work, and Dom is out of it. They came back from reshoots for the second film almost a month ago, and Dom still hasn't begun looking for a flat of his own. Work isn't steady, the auditions are too infrequent. Elijah's absolutely thrilled to have a roommate--it's some sort of American college experience that he missed out on. Or at least that's what he tells Dom, who doesn't care because he at least has a place to stay.
This exploration of Elijah's house began, Dom thinks, somewhere around the time Ash Wednesday started filming. Elijah was off in Manhattan for weeks at a time, and Dom had the occasional interview, but mostly he was on his own.
It started innocently enough, with the CDs. He had wanted something to listen to and ended up pawing through case after case for the entire afternoon. He fell asleep on the couch at one a.m., with the liner notes for Placebo's Without You, I'm Nothing in his hand. When he woke up, he realized that the page with "Every You, Every Me" on it was dogmarked and worn.
Two weeks and one Elijah visit later, Dom noticed a cardboard box shoved on a shelf at the top of his closet. Curiosity always got the better of him, so he pulled it down and was greeted by the sight of a hundred or more Happy Meal toys, dating back to the early 80s. A phone call to Elijah revealed that his mother had given them to him after cleaning out her attic, and he had been too reluctant and too nostalgic to throw them away. Dom carefully replaced them back on the shelf and settled himself on the couch for an evening of South Park reruns.
The discoveries continue in this manner. While searching in Elijah's closet for a shirt that is a) clean and b) big enough to fit him (he was too lazy to do laundry), he stumbled across a large set of Star Wars action figures. After taking the trash out to the curb, he came across crates and crates full of old records in the garage. The Sex Pistols album was immediately relocated to the entertainment system in the living room. Soon, Dom found that he was looking forward to what he might find tomorrow, and the day after that, and next week.
Elijah has been home for two weeks now, and Dom is slowly going crazy--exploration withdrawal. But today, Elijah is having lunch with an interviewer for some magazine or the other, and Dom has the house to himself again for at least a couple of hours. It's taken him this long to work up the nerve, and he can't waste today's golden opportunity. It's time to explore under Elijah's bed--the one place he's dared not go since the beginning of it all.
A box containing a half-hearted, childhood assortment of baseball cards is pushed disinterestedly aside, as is a box containing numerous owner's manuals to various technological devices. Dom sneezes against the dust in his nostrils as he stretches his arm to reach for a lonely-looking shoebox in the very back. His fingers grasp the corner, then the lid as he pulls it from its hiding place. Triumphant, he sets the box on his lap and lifts off the lid. A stack of unframed, unmarked pictures sits in front of him; on top is a picture of himself, raising a glass in a toast. He shifts it aside and is greeted by another; this time he's nudging Billy in the side and laughing. The next is also of him, from behind, walking through the grown-to-scale cornfields outside of Hamilton. Dom's brow furrows as he thumbs through more of the pictures. They're all of him, in various poses and from different angles. Some look as though he wasn't even aware that a picture was being taken. He empties the box onto the floor and spreads the pile apart with tentative fingers. Every single picture in that box, right down to the Polaroid shot at the bottom, is of him. On the phone, surfing, drinking, in costume, out of costume, in the make-up trailer...there's even a shot of him crying. Dom looks down at these pictures with wide, disbelieving eyes as the thoughts begin to come together in his head. Elijah...has a collection of him.
"Whatcha doing?" From the doorway, Elijah's looking down at the dusty pictures with a frown. Dom's head snaps up as the excuses begin tumbling from his lips.
"I was, uh..." he stumbles and looks down at the now-empty box. "...looking for a pair of shoes to go running in, cause uh, my trainers are busted, and well..." Dom babbles on, praying with all his might that he's thinking quickly enough. Elijah's frown deepens in confusion.
"One, all my tennis shoes are in the hall closet. You know that. Two, you don't even go running." Elijah doesn't sound accusatory, merely matter-of-fact.
"I was hoping to start," Dom offers lamely, looking down at the ground again. To his surprise, he hears Elijah start to giggle. He looks up bewildered, and sure enough, the kid is cracking up.
"You're such a pathetic liar, you jackass," Elijah says when he catches his breath. "You were totally pulling a Nancy Drew, weren't you?" Dom scowls.
"I don't even merit a Hardy Boy?" Elijah shakes his head with another laugh and comes over to kneel beside Dom as he begins to stack the pictures neatly back into the box. He handles them with such care that Dom can't help but gawk at him. When Elijah turns his head and catches Dom's amazed expression, he actually blushes and turns away. He puts the top back on and slides the box back under the bed. Getting to his feet, he offers Dom a hand up and says,
"I guess my secret is out, huh?" And even though he doesn't say it, Dom can't help thinking, in more ways than one.
Author:
nekoshininigamiRating: PG for veerrryy minor use of language.
Disclaimer: Never happened.
Summary: Elijah collects things, and Dom is nosy.
Feedback: Always makes me smile.
Elijah collects things. CDs, records, movies, shoes, jackets...he has a collection of collections. Christ, the guy's been making money since the age of eight; he can afford to support any hobby he happens to pick up. His house is a smorgasbord of interesting things to look at, to find, to listen to. It could entertain a bored, young man for hours on end, which is precisely what it ends up doing.
Elijah is at work, and Dom is out of it. They came back from reshoots for the second film almost a month ago, and Dom still hasn't begun looking for a flat of his own. Work isn't steady, the auditions are too infrequent. Elijah's absolutely thrilled to have a roommate--it's some sort of American college experience that he missed out on. Or at least that's what he tells Dom, who doesn't care because he at least has a place to stay.
This exploration of Elijah's house began, Dom thinks, somewhere around the time Ash Wednesday started filming. Elijah was off in Manhattan for weeks at a time, and Dom had the occasional interview, but mostly he was on his own.
It started innocently enough, with the CDs. He had wanted something to listen to and ended up pawing through case after case for the entire afternoon. He fell asleep on the couch at one a.m., with the liner notes for Placebo's Without You, I'm Nothing in his hand. When he woke up, he realized that the page with "Every You, Every Me" on it was dogmarked and worn.
Two weeks and one Elijah visit later, Dom noticed a cardboard box shoved on a shelf at the top of his closet. Curiosity always got the better of him, so he pulled it down and was greeted by the sight of a hundred or more Happy Meal toys, dating back to the early 80s. A phone call to Elijah revealed that his mother had given them to him after cleaning out her attic, and he had been too reluctant and too nostalgic to throw them away. Dom carefully replaced them back on the shelf and settled himself on the couch for an evening of South Park reruns.
The discoveries continue in this manner. While searching in Elijah's closet for a shirt that is a) clean and b) big enough to fit him (he was too lazy to do laundry), he stumbled across a large set of Star Wars action figures. After taking the trash out to the curb, he came across crates and crates full of old records in the garage. The Sex Pistols album was immediately relocated to the entertainment system in the living room. Soon, Dom found that he was looking forward to what he might find tomorrow, and the day after that, and next week.
Elijah has been home for two weeks now, and Dom is slowly going crazy--exploration withdrawal. But today, Elijah is having lunch with an interviewer for some magazine or the other, and Dom has the house to himself again for at least a couple of hours. It's taken him this long to work up the nerve, and he can't waste today's golden opportunity. It's time to explore under Elijah's bed--the one place he's dared not go since the beginning of it all.
A box containing a half-hearted, childhood assortment of baseball cards is pushed disinterestedly aside, as is a box containing numerous owner's manuals to various technological devices. Dom sneezes against the dust in his nostrils as he stretches his arm to reach for a lonely-looking shoebox in the very back. His fingers grasp the corner, then the lid as he pulls it from its hiding place. Triumphant, he sets the box on his lap and lifts off the lid. A stack of unframed, unmarked pictures sits in front of him; on top is a picture of himself, raising a glass in a toast. He shifts it aside and is greeted by another; this time he's nudging Billy in the side and laughing. The next is also of him, from behind, walking through the grown-to-scale cornfields outside of Hamilton. Dom's brow furrows as he thumbs through more of the pictures. They're all of him, in various poses and from different angles. Some look as though he wasn't even aware that a picture was being taken. He empties the box onto the floor and spreads the pile apart with tentative fingers. Every single picture in that box, right down to the Polaroid shot at the bottom, is of him. On the phone, surfing, drinking, in costume, out of costume, in the make-up trailer...there's even a shot of him crying. Dom looks down at these pictures with wide, disbelieving eyes as the thoughts begin to come together in his head. Elijah...has a collection of him.
"Whatcha doing?" From the doorway, Elijah's looking down at the dusty pictures with a frown. Dom's head snaps up as the excuses begin tumbling from his lips.
"I was, uh..." he stumbles and looks down at the now-empty box. "...looking for a pair of shoes to go running in, cause uh, my trainers are busted, and well..." Dom babbles on, praying with all his might that he's thinking quickly enough. Elijah's frown deepens in confusion.
"One, all my tennis shoes are in the hall closet. You know that. Two, you don't even go running." Elijah doesn't sound accusatory, merely matter-of-fact.
"I was hoping to start," Dom offers lamely, looking down at the ground again. To his surprise, he hears Elijah start to giggle. He looks up bewildered, and sure enough, the kid is cracking up.
"You're such a pathetic liar, you jackass," Elijah says when he catches his breath. "You were totally pulling a Nancy Drew, weren't you?" Dom scowls.
"I don't even merit a Hardy Boy?" Elijah shakes his head with another laugh and comes over to kneel beside Dom as he begins to stack the pictures neatly back into the box. He handles them with such care that Dom can't help but gawk at him. When Elijah turns his head and catches Dom's amazed expression, he actually blushes and turns away. He puts the top back on and slides the box back under the bed. Getting to his feet, he offers Dom a hand up and says,
"I guess my secret is out, huh?" And even though he doesn't say it, Dom can't help thinking, in more ways than one.