ext_35311 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
weetanya.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2003-02-24 12:46 pm
weetanya.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-02-24 12:46 pm
(no subject)
Title: Entirely Compromised.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
weetanya
Author web page: http://gtf.org/scion/lotr_rps/
Pairing: DM/EW
Warning: Courtship, not denouement
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is only true if you are a depraved fangirl desperately hoping for a miracle. In other words, it isn't.
Summary: Dominic's cautiously feeling Elijah out while everyone else is feeling Dominic up. Compromising situations abound, but none with the right Hobbit.
*
After a night of those kinds of dreams, Dominic wondered when it had become less about the Fellowship and more about The Hobbit.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up. 5 AM, time for the feet. Another gorgeous New Zealand night that would undoubtedly fade into the crisp blue of dawn -- blue. Blue. Dominic shook his head. It was time to get ruthless with himself.
He got up, put on clothes, and drew socks over abused feet. And then he drove to the makeup trailers and embarked upon his real life, the one in Middle Earth.
*
"Favorite band, eh? At the moment, maybe Sigur Ros. This is called 'The Nothing Song'," Dominic tried to be casual in the face of such an important question, and slipped the cd into the stereo.
Feet done, the half-man-half-hobbit who sat in front of him smiled. Blue...
Dominic blinked, tried to stay focused. "Yeah, Sigur Ros is melodic but never boring."
"Sigur Ros..." Elijah fingered the CD case thoughtfully, stared at the back, opened the case and read the liner notes.
Carol tsked. "Don't move, Elijah," she admonished. "Or we'll have to start this ear all over again."
Elijah was instantly still. His face assumed the angelic but long-suffering expression that he'd perfected during long days of rehearsals with Sean.
"It's your 'Oh that Sam, what's he doing now,' expression," muttered Dominic, half to himself.
An eyebrow rose above a huge blue eye.
"It is not! This is my 'be still so that I can get out of this chair and show you my favorite CD' expression."
"And what is that CD?"
"It's --"
"Dominic," interrupted his own makeup artist, who insisted upon being called 'Undone' ("Because you're my Undoing," she said wryly), "Baby, I need to fix your wig."
He exchanged a glance of pure commiseration with Elijah, and went off for one more sweaty grope underneath his new hair.
*
"Dominic," Billy said patiently, "Dooommmmm...."
"Eh?"
"I said, your fly is down."
"Nice one. But I'm not wearing anything that zips."
"I had to get your attention somehow," Billy said reasonably. "You've been ... half here all day."
"What made you think that?"
"Could it be -- take after take after take of lines that you've flubbed?"
Dominic looked around a bit guiltily, and noticed that nobody was quite meeting his eyes.
"What's eating you?" Billy said gently. "Splinter?" He grinned.
Dominic bopped Billy across the head. "Come for a walk with me. I'll tell you," he said.
They took a walk over to the makeup trailer, but Dominic couldn't quite figure out what to say.
"Elijah, is it," said Billy finally. "I mean -- considering how you've done nothing but blather about him for the past five minutes."
"Yep," Dominic said, relieved. Trust his best friend to figure it out without words. "Isn't he, though?"
"He's pretty as an angel, he really is," Billy said. "I'd do him, but he's already got a ... gardener."
"Hands off, he's mine!"
"And he's yours because of that suave way you have of wooing him, eh? Is that what's eating you?"
"What's eating me is that I can't tell for the life of me if he feels the same way. I mean, the boy acts unfailingly polite and considerate and nice to everyone -- he barely swears. Hey, I know what I'm going to do -- I'm going to make him use the word 'cunt' at least twice a day. That'll fix him."
"Cunt," Billy snorted. "Eh -- why don't you teach him a different word?"
"Like what?"
"Can't figure it out, eh?" Billy grinned. "That, my boy, is why you're in such a pother."
*
Dominic was in the first bar he saw on his way home. Luckily Orlando had bummed a ride.
"Member," Dominic said patiently into his whiskey. "Boner, hard-on, throbbing erect manhood. Or hobbit-hood. But -- but not that short."
Orlando snickered. "Swolen rod," he said helpfully, "Fist full of might. Or perhaps mouthful," he added thoughtfully.
Dominic groaned and dropped his head onto the bar. "He's -- so -- young," he said to the smooth wood. Wood.
"It's nothing anyone's surprised about, mate," said Orlando. "You've been staring at him for weeks now."
"Nothing I can do about it," Dominic had more angst in his voice than anything sung by Peter Murphy.
"More whiskey."
That night Orlando peeled him half-conscious from the barstool and trundled him dutifully home. Sadly, they were both too drunk to drive, and had to abandon the car and take a cab.
"You're a terrible designated driver. No, don't go --" whispered Dominic to the firm-feeling shadow that lowered him onto the bed.
"Oh -- kay," Orlando said, his voice slowed by drink. He swept clothes off the bed and fell in after Dom.
Such a tangle of arms and tee shirts and boxers and bedclothes.
"Why can't you be Elijah," said Dominic softly, wound himself around Orlando and buried his head into the fuzzy back of a mohawk.
"Shh," Orlando slurred sleepily, "You -- go to sleep."
*
Dominic opened his eyes and saw two things.
The first was Orlando's ear, with trace amounts of sticky gel adhered to the back of it.
The second was a set of legs that belonged to a torso that belonged to ... O damn.
"Hey," Dominic said with extreme discomfort, sitting up so suddenly that the elf in front of him let out a sleepy grumble of protest.
The blanket dropped to his thighs, and much to his chagrin he found that the usual morning erection was ripely evident.
He stared up at Elijah, and desperately sought for words.
Elijah's eyes were perhaps the largest he'd ever seen them, and they weren't looking into his.
"W -- wood," Dominic stammered, and remembered some of the previous night's conversation.
"Pardon?" Elijah tore his eyes away from Dominic's tented boxers, boxers that were thankfully losing turgidity as his body sent alarmed messages down the blood stream.
"Just -- ah -- never mind. Really inappropriate pun. So. Um. Hi," Dominic went on, crawling out of bed as though completely unaware of the other occupant. "Don't you know about knocking?"
"I --" Elijah faltered as Orlando rolled onto his back, naked torso taunt and rippled with muscles. "Ahhhh... wondered if you wanted ... breakfast..." His voice implied a volume of things, none of which had to do with himself, or with food.
"Yes, certainly! Let's just head out, shall we?" Dominic said briskly and pulled on some pants.
"No, I don't want to interrupt..." Elijah's face was the color of New Zealand dawn.
"Not interrupting anything, nothing at all. Orlando took me home. I was drunk." Dominic said. "That's why we had to ... sleep."
Elijah's blue eyes were skeptical. Extremely skeptical.
*
Back in the makeup trailer for a mid-day break from the shooting.
"The good thing is that he didn't run," said Billy philosophically. "Wish I'd been there to see your expression."
Dominic growled and blushed again just from the memory.
"And so how was breakfast?"
"Awkward. I could tell he was full of questions that he didn't want to ask."
"And how was Orlando?"
"Extremely cuddly." Dominic's tone was a bit guilty.
"And how is Elijah now?"
Dominic shook his head. "Shellshocked."
"But at least he understands that you're a perverse buggerer."
"That is a blessing." Dominic's tone dripped with sarcasm. "You stinker."
Billy grinned. "Don't worry, he'll come around. How could anyone resist your charms?" Billy grabbed his arse firmly and pulled him close. "You're the sexiest Hobbit in my book," Billy said, and pursed his lips in exagerated surrender.
Just at that moment, Elijah came into the trailer carrying a CD. "Hey Dom, I finally brought in my favorite --"
He stopped and stared. Without a word, he turned around and walked right back out.
Billy laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.
"Shit," Dominic said resignedly. "Oh -- shit."
Author:
weetanyaAuthor web page: http://gtf.org/scion/lotr_rps/
Pairing: DM/EW
Warning: Courtship, not denouement
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This is only true if you are a depraved fangirl desperately hoping for a miracle. In other words, it isn't.
Summary: Dominic's cautiously feeling Elijah out while everyone else is feeling Dominic up. Compromising situations abound, but none with the right Hobbit.
*
After a night of those kinds of dreams, Dominic wondered when it had become less about the Fellowship and more about The Hobbit.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up. 5 AM, time for the feet. Another gorgeous New Zealand night that would undoubtedly fade into the crisp blue of dawn -- blue. Blue. Dominic shook his head. It was time to get ruthless with himself.
He got up, put on clothes, and drew socks over abused feet. And then he drove to the makeup trailers and embarked upon his real life, the one in Middle Earth.
*
"Favorite band, eh? At the moment, maybe Sigur Ros. This is called 'The Nothing Song'," Dominic tried to be casual in the face of such an important question, and slipped the cd into the stereo.
Feet done, the half-man-half-hobbit who sat in front of him smiled. Blue...
Dominic blinked, tried to stay focused. "Yeah, Sigur Ros is melodic but never boring."
"Sigur Ros..." Elijah fingered the CD case thoughtfully, stared at the back, opened the case and read the liner notes.
Carol tsked. "Don't move, Elijah," she admonished. "Or we'll have to start this ear all over again."
Elijah was instantly still. His face assumed the angelic but long-suffering expression that he'd perfected during long days of rehearsals with Sean.
"It's your 'Oh that Sam, what's he doing now,' expression," muttered Dominic, half to himself.
An eyebrow rose above a huge blue eye.
"It is not! This is my 'be still so that I can get out of this chair and show you my favorite CD' expression."
"And what is that CD?"
"It's --"
"Dominic," interrupted his own makeup artist, who insisted upon being called 'Undone' ("Because you're my Undoing," she said wryly), "Baby, I need to fix your wig."
He exchanged a glance of pure commiseration with Elijah, and went off for one more sweaty grope underneath his new hair.
*
"Dominic," Billy said patiently, "Dooommmmm...."
"Eh?"
"I said, your fly is down."
"Nice one. But I'm not wearing anything that zips."
"I had to get your attention somehow," Billy said reasonably. "You've been ... half here all day."
"What made you think that?"
"Could it be -- take after take after take of lines that you've flubbed?"
Dominic looked around a bit guiltily, and noticed that nobody was quite meeting his eyes.
"What's eating you?" Billy said gently. "Splinter?" He grinned.
Dominic bopped Billy across the head. "Come for a walk with me. I'll tell you," he said.
They took a walk over to the makeup trailer, but Dominic couldn't quite figure out what to say.
"Elijah, is it," said Billy finally. "I mean -- considering how you've done nothing but blather about him for the past five minutes."
"Yep," Dominic said, relieved. Trust his best friend to figure it out without words. "Isn't he, though?"
"He's pretty as an angel, he really is," Billy said. "I'd do him, but he's already got a ... gardener."
"Hands off, he's mine!"
"And he's yours because of that suave way you have of wooing him, eh? Is that what's eating you?"
"What's eating me is that I can't tell for the life of me if he feels the same way. I mean, the boy acts unfailingly polite and considerate and nice to everyone -- he barely swears. Hey, I know what I'm going to do -- I'm going to make him use the word 'cunt' at least twice a day. That'll fix him."
"Cunt," Billy snorted. "Eh -- why don't you teach him a different word?"
"Like what?"
"Can't figure it out, eh?" Billy grinned. "That, my boy, is why you're in such a pother."
*
Dominic was in the first bar he saw on his way home. Luckily Orlando had bummed a ride.
"Member," Dominic said patiently into his whiskey. "Boner, hard-on, throbbing erect manhood. Or hobbit-hood. But -- but not that short."
Orlando snickered. "Swolen rod," he said helpfully, "Fist full of might. Or perhaps mouthful," he added thoughtfully.
Dominic groaned and dropped his head onto the bar. "He's -- so -- young," he said to the smooth wood. Wood.
"It's nothing anyone's surprised about, mate," said Orlando. "You've been staring at him for weeks now."
"Nothing I can do about it," Dominic had more angst in his voice than anything sung by Peter Murphy.
"More whiskey."
That night Orlando peeled him half-conscious from the barstool and trundled him dutifully home. Sadly, they were both too drunk to drive, and had to abandon the car and take a cab.
"You're a terrible designated driver. No, don't go --" whispered Dominic to the firm-feeling shadow that lowered him onto the bed.
"Oh -- kay," Orlando said, his voice slowed by drink. He swept clothes off the bed and fell in after Dom.
Such a tangle of arms and tee shirts and boxers and bedclothes.
"Why can't you be Elijah," said Dominic softly, wound himself around Orlando and buried his head into the fuzzy back of a mohawk.
"Shh," Orlando slurred sleepily, "You -- go to sleep."
*
Dominic opened his eyes and saw two things.
The first was Orlando's ear, with trace amounts of sticky gel adhered to the back of it.
The second was a set of legs that belonged to a torso that belonged to ... O damn.
"Hey," Dominic said with extreme discomfort, sitting up so suddenly that the elf in front of him let out a sleepy grumble of protest.
The blanket dropped to his thighs, and much to his chagrin he found that the usual morning erection was ripely evident.
He stared up at Elijah, and desperately sought for words.
Elijah's eyes were perhaps the largest he'd ever seen them, and they weren't looking into his.
"W -- wood," Dominic stammered, and remembered some of the previous night's conversation.
"Pardon?" Elijah tore his eyes away from Dominic's tented boxers, boxers that were thankfully losing turgidity as his body sent alarmed messages down the blood stream.
"Just -- ah -- never mind. Really inappropriate pun. So. Um. Hi," Dominic went on, crawling out of bed as though completely unaware of the other occupant. "Don't you know about knocking?"
"I --" Elijah faltered as Orlando rolled onto his back, naked torso taunt and rippled with muscles. "Ahhhh... wondered if you wanted ... breakfast..." His voice implied a volume of things, none of which had to do with himself, or with food.
"Yes, certainly! Let's just head out, shall we?" Dominic said briskly and pulled on some pants.
"No, I don't want to interrupt..." Elijah's face was the color of New Zealand dawn.
"Not interrupting anything, nothing at all. Orlando took me home. I was drunk." Dominic said. "That's why we had to ... sleep."
Elijah's blue eyes were skeptical. Extremely skeptical.
*
Back in the makeup trailer for a mid-day break from the shooting.
"The good thing is that he didn't run," said Billy philosophically. "Wish I'd been there to see your expression."
Dominic growled and blushed again just from the memory.
"And so how was breakfast?"
"Awkward. I could tell he was full of questions that he didn't want to ask."
"And how was Orlando?"
"Extremely cuddly." Dominic's tone was a bit guilty.
"And how is Elijah now?"
Dominic shook his head. "Shellshocked."
"But at least he understands that you're a perverse buggerer."
"That is a blessing." Dominic's tone dripped with sarcasm. "You stinker."
Billy grinned. "Don't worry, he'll come around. How could anyone resist your charms?" Billy grabbed his arse firmly and pulled him close. "You're the sexiest Hobbit in my book," Billy said, and pursed his lips in exagerated surrender.
Just at that moment, Elijah came into the trailer carrying a CD. "Hey Dom, I finally brought in my favorite --"
He stopped and stared. Without a word, he turned around and walked right back out.
Billy laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.
"Shit," Dominic said resignedly. "Oh -- shit."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
And thanks, yes, she inspires much fic.
no subject
*is in a fit of laughter now, thanks*
Poor Dom. XD;;
no subject
no subject
http://gtf.org/scion/lotr_rps/
... some are more funny, some are more angsty. i seek for oblique rather than direct.
no subject
Oh, I can't stop laughing! Poor Dom!
thanks for this.
no subject
no subject
no subject