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belladonnalin.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2004-10-28 01:05 pm
belladonnalin.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-10-28 01:05 pm
Fic: Kiss Off
Title: Kiss Off
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
belladonnalin
Rating: R
Feedback: Please! Here or e-mail belladonnalin (at) yahoo (dot) com – constructive criticism welcomed!
Archived: Probably – e-mail the above address and let me know?
Warnings: Angst. Boysex. Dropping of the “f-bomb.”
Pairing: Dominic Monaghan/Elijah Wood. Hints of Hannah Wood /Dominic
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re their own – I just play with characters I’ve created that kind of look like them. The title and subtitles are from the Violent Femmes song Kiss Off/ NOT a songfic. At least ... not really. Also, I strongly suspect that the Hannah is influenced heavily by the WoodCest Hannah written by the geniuslalejandra.
Word count: 2, 419
Notes: The timeframes in this piece move backwards, with the first scene in LA just before Dominic leaves for Hawaii and the last set in New Zealand during filming. Thanks tojoelandrewtyson and peregrin8 for beta, especially since neither is involved in fandom. I’M RECRUITING! Not written FOR deleerium, but certainly dedicated to her brilliance and the completion of Football.
One ‘cause you left me
Another long pull from another bottle. Easy enough to do, easy enough to escape into languid liquid unconsciousness. Easy enough to hide pain that scraped rough, half-bitten fingernails down a chest.
But there were no fingernails, no jagged edges to leave tell-tale trails of raised skin and blood. No hands to smooth over rough planes, to soothe away pain. Just a small, partially-broken man sitting in a guesthouse alone, drinking beer at eleven o’clock in the bloody morning, trying to forget blue eyes that he’d only just realized never made him any promises.
He’d made those up for himself.
Two for my family
He brushed away the small hand creeping up the inside seam of his jeans, grabbing the almost-but-not quite familiar wrist to still the owner. He stared out the window, noting that Debbie was watering the lawn and, as she waved at him, he grimaced.
“No, Hannah,” Dom repeated firmly, taking care to not bruise her wrist, but also to hold tight enough that she couldn’t reclaim the offending hand. He’d already tried the more gentle responses. Twice. In the last fifteen minutes. “No. This isn’t what I want. It’s not going to happen. You need to go back to your house now.”
Her eyes widened, suspiciously old and sad inside the heavily lined lids and above the candy cane pink lipgloss that looked far too much like innocence to be framing the mouth it was framing.
“Why the shit not?” she spat out, vitriol exiting such a sweet mouth. Blue eyes narrowed and darkened. Too many similarities ... he shuddered at the disconcerting features made almost familiar, almost arousing. “It’s not like it means fucking anything, anyway. You’ve never stopped HIM before.”
He stared at Hannah, loosening his grip imperceptivity as her words hit him. She stared back, anger and sex and vodka and jealousy seeping out of ever-darkening eyes. Her lip curved in what could either have been a snarl or a smile, hovering in the in-between, waiting for his next word.
“No,” he sighed. “I never did stop him.”
Three for my heartache
In spite of what everyone (ViggoOrliBillyHannahDebbieTheBloodyMedia) thought, it wasn’t a total surprise to Dom when Elijah suddenly pulled up all roots, threw a few CDs and treasured t-shirts into a duffel bag and moved across the country. The moment when he walked in to the house was one of those terrible moments that would remain burned into his mind forever – the natural disaster that was heartbreak.
Dominic had come home a little late that day from the meeting with a director, talking about some television pilot with filming projected in Hawaii. He’d bounded in with take-out in his hands, excited about the possibilities behind the character and the connection with the direction, looking to share some joy with ‘Lij.
“Lij!” he called, tossing his keys onto the counter next to an inexplicably large number of Pez dispensers “Ellliiiijjjaahhh!” he crooned, opening the icebox and grabbing two beers and pulling off the tops. “Come on, ye little wanker! I stopped by Bamboo House and got their green curry! Come hear about the bloody meeting and celebrate with ...” He stopped, looking at the front of the icebox.
The bottles were carefully placed on the counter as he ran a finger over the edge of the note on the front of the icebox.
Dom,
This isn’t working. Went to NY.
~ E
Staring blankly at the paper, Dom continued running a finger over the ragged edge of the paper, reaching with his right hand to snag one of the beers and opening it. He needed to get drunk. Now. Ten minutes ago. Yesterday.
It was only as he finished the second beer that he noticed a sharp tang of pain in his pointer finger. Looking down, he recognized the source – hundreds of miniscule papercuts peppered the finger still stroking the note almost tenderly.
Four for my headache
Dominic reached over, palming a thin pale shoulder, the mirror image of his own, minus the minor scars and freckles. It was his perfect shoulder, unmarred, on another man’s body.
“Don’t,” a voice grumbled. “My head’s fuckin’ killing me, Dom. Just ... don’t, ‘k?”
Sighing, Dom laid back on the bed. “Ok. I won’t.”
Five for my loneliness
When he’d first arrived, Dominic had thought that Los Angeles was the answer to the question he'd been asking for years. It was bright and full and vibrating with life. Bars stayed open until 2 am, there was always something to do, somewhere to be. Los Angeles, at first, was like the London he had always wanted – full of possibilities, full of life and dreams and hope. The parties were never ending and Dominic just knew that he was on the verge of something great.
Now, Los Angeles was just LA and Dominic Monaghan was just Dom again. The quaint house he stayed in became the guesthouse behind his mate’s mother’s house (and wasn’t he too bloody old to be living near anybody’s mum?). The hope was fading and Dom was drifting – the offers were coming in, but nothing that he wanted. The parties were still raging, but he found himself doing stranger and stranger things (even for him), just to stay interested.
In the middle of the night when he was trying to ignore the moans coming from the bedroom with whateverwhoever Elijah had picked up that night (“we didn’t make any promises, you fucking wanker, so quit fucking moping.”), Dom thought that maybe he wanted to go home.
But Elijah was here. So Dom stayed.
Six for my sorrow
“What the fuck do ya think you’re doing?” Dom slurred as he grabbed the back of Elijah’s shirt to bring him closer to his snarling face. The music in the club pounded on behind them, becoming louder as the only other person in the men’s room hurried out.
Elijah’s wide eyes narrowed: “What I want, *Dominic*,” he hissed, emphasizing Dom’s full name. “Why the FUCK are you acting like a jealous boyfriend?”
Dom’s heart skipped, his mouth opening and closing without sound coming out. He had just felt rage, seeing Elijah grinding narrow hips up against the barely-dressed girls’ fuller ones. At the time, it had made so much sense, but ... now ... he loosened his grip on Elijah’s collar, but didn’t step away.
His angry eyes turned predatory as he realized that Elijah’s shirt was unbuttoned further than usual and he could see hints of sharp collarbones. Running a finger across the shadows above and below them, he felt Elijah shudder and saw his body start to relax.
As he was mouthing his way across one bone and up his neck, he heard Elijah mutter: “You’re forgiven.”
He glanced up, his tongue coming out to lick a stripe across a pulse point. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
Seven ... no, no, no tomorrow
“Wake up,” breath skated briefly across his face.
“mmmmmpggghhh.”
“Wake. Up.” The voice was a little more insistent now, Dom noticed as he groaned and pulled a pillow over his face.
“No,” he grumbled, burrowing deeper into the blankets. “Donwanna.”
“Dominic,” the voice became exasperated and quite a bit louder. “Get your scrawny British ass out of bed. We have a flight to catch.”
Dominic’s eyes flew open. “Fuck. LA!” he said, scrambling around, trying to get out of bed.
Elijah’s grin grew at the futile attempts, breaking into a full laugh when Dom managed to wrap his legs in the sheets and fall flat on his ass on the floor.
“Shut up,” Dom grumbled. “Fucking 7 am flights. Nobody should ever have to be at an airport at 5 in the morning.”
Elijah leaned down to ruffle Dom’s hair and brush dry lips across his mouth. “No. But it’s for a good cause, isn’t it?”
Dom smiled slightly, thinking of living with Elijah, staying with Elijah, not having to explain why one or the other was always “too tired” to make it all the way home.
“Yeah, that’ll be all right, I think.”
Elijah rolled his eyes and gave Dominic a knowing look. “Right. Just all right.”
As Dom scrubbed his face with some water and pulled on a set of clean(ish) jeans, he noticed that Elijah was just sitting, staring out the window. His voice broke the silence, coming out a little breathy and small: “Are you going to miss it?” he asked, waving at the New Zealand sunrise.
Dom stared at his familiar profile and then looked out at the familiar scenery. “I dunno,” he replied honestly. “Seems like I’m taking the best of it with me.”
Eight ... I forget what eight is for
He knew that Elijah loved this part, when he fell apart slowly under his hands.
Dom loved this part, too.
Elijah’s small hands continued stroking him as he mumbled in his ear: “God, you’re so hot like this – pants around your ankles, biting your lip to keep people from hearing you. You want them to hear you, don’t you Dom? You want everyone to know what I do to you, how to feels to have my hand wrapped around you?”
Dominic groaned quietly, biting down on his lip so hard that he could have almost broken the skin. He did like it and Elijah knew it – he liked the possibility of getting caught, liked knowing that if the cast noticed that he and Elijah had disappeared at the same time from the wrap party, their questions could be answered if they would just stand outside the bathroom door.
Elijah’s voice kept muttering in Dom’s ear, his hand kept stroking up and down his cock, his hips kept jerking against Dom’s ass, the seam of his jeans rubbing in a way that should hurt, but just felt good. He was teetering, right on the edge ...
And then he felt Elijah’s other hand snake around his body and float up under his shirt, pulling once, twice, three times at an already hardened nipple and he fell, lights blurring, sounds melding together and he was. just. gone.
After what could have been five seconds or five years, he realized that he was biting down on something – Elijah’s hand.
He licked at the palm, then drew the hand away from his mouth. “What ...” he started to ask, then was spun around to face the slightly smaller man, who was ...
Smirking. The little bugger was smirking.
“You were getting too loud,” Elijah remarked matter-of-factly. “There’s a difference between almost getting caught and getting caught. You were about to get us caught.”
Dom’s eyes glinted as he slowly ran a tongue across his bottom lip. “Too loud, am I?” he grinned, his eyes becoming predatory. “Let’s see how loud you can be.”
And, as he dropped to his knees and ran a tongue along the teeth of Elijah’s zipper, he sincerely hoped he’d find out.
Nine for the lost car
“But ... didn’t we park here?” Elijah wavered slightly, pouting and looking much more like a petulant teenager than Dom was remotely comfortable with. “I swear, we fucking parked it – right – fucking ...” Elijah trailed off, increasingly confused.
“Elijah?” Dom queried, amusement slowly creeping into his tone.
“Yeah?” Elijah turned to face Dom, raising an eyebrow.
“Did it occur to ye that maybe, just maybe ...” Dom paused for emphasis, noting that Elijah leaned more and more toward him with every second passing. “Maybe if we lose a car, we’re in no condition to be drivin’?”
He quirked one eyebrow (a trick he’d learned from Matthew that he had been particularly proud of in secondary school) and smirked at the younger man.
Elijah’s drink-clouded eyes brightened when the logic of this particular concern hit him. “Taxi! We could get a taxi! Dom, you’re a GENIUS!”
“Aye? And why is that?”
Elijah leaned in, suddenly pressing dry, slightly parted lips against Dom’s. He pulled back, leaving only a bewildered Brit and a trail of breath holding onto traces of whiskey. “Because then I don’t have to explain why I’m staying at your place.”
Dom’s bewilderment, instead of being abated, intensified. “My place?”
At that moment, all of the awkward presses of our their bodies, moments on the dance floor when he wondered at the lost look in Elijah’s eyes, the jokes, the touches, the second glances ... all of the unexplained parts of a friendship so intensely drawn fell into place. Dom’s confused smile turned into a more feral grin. He leaned into Elijah and breathed across the bridge of the smaller man’s nose. “My place?”
Elijah’s confidence stance was betrayed by his nervous hands slowly twisting the cuffs of his shirt. “Yes. Your place. That work for you?”
Dom smiled, a long, slow, languid smile of realization of long-awaited fantasy. “Aye. I think it will work just fine.”
Ten ... everything
The first thing he noticed was that the kid damn near vibrated with energy and excitement. It was hard for Dominic to remember that he was so YOUNG – his interactions shifted so quickly from the seasoned actor giving Billy tips on entertainment lawyers to the awkward teenager, looking around at the world with wide, excited eyes. Leaning back against his seat, Dominic watched Elijah interacting with everyone else, taking the moments of quiet that most people couldn’t believe he needed. Sometimes, he needed to step back to really see - and to see this man clearly was suddenly one of the most important things that Dominic could imagine doing.
He noted Elijah’s hands skittering just above the planes of Billy’s hip as he excitedly described something, his eyes lit up with attention as Billy’s reflected a portion of that light. They both suddenly laughed, leaning into one another – curve of hips meeting briefly, eyes closed and hands clasping over shoulders.
Dom felt something hit the bottom of his stomach at the sight of such abandon. His eyes widened and his hand automatically brought the beer bottle to his mouth. This was why he watched, he knew ... for that moment when people just let. Go.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Clear eyes stared down at his, concerned. When had Elijah moved? How had he not seen?
“Allright there, ‘Lij?” Dom rasped slightly, startled by his own voice.
The eyes cleared and the smile widened, becoming more genuine. “Yeah, Dom. All right. You?”
“Allright, ‘Lijah,” Dom responded, realizing that it was completely, fully true. “All right.”
Author:
belladonnalinRating: R
Feedback: Please! Here or e-mail belladonnalin (at) yahoo (dot) com – constructive criticism welcomed!
Archived: Probably – e-mail the above address and let me know?
Warnings: Angst. Boysex. Dropping of the “f-bomb.”
Pairing: Dominic Monaghan/Elijah Wood. Hints of Hannah Wood /Dominic
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re their own – I just play with characters I’ve created that kind of look like them. The title and subtitles are from the Violent Femmes song Kiss Off/ NOT a songfic. At least ... not really. Also, I strongly suspect that the Hannah is influenced heavily by the WoodCest Hannah written by the genius
lalejandra.Word count: 2, 419
Notes: The timeframes in this piece move backwards, with the first scene in LA just before Dominic leaves for Hawaii and the last set in New Zealand during filming. Thanks to
joelandrewtyson and peregrin8 for beta, especially since neither is involved in fandom. I’M RECRUITING! Not written FOR deleerium, but certainly dedicated to her brilliance and the completion of Football.One ‘cause you left me
Another long pull from another bottle. Easy enough to do, easy enough to escape into languid liquid unconsciousness. Easy enough to hide pain that scraped rough, half-bitten fingernails down a chest.
But there were no fingernails, no jagged edges to leave tell-tale trails of raised skin and blood. No hands to smooth over rough planes, to soothe away pain. Just a small, partially-broken man sitting in a guesthouse alone, drinking beer at eleven o’clock in the bloody morning, trying to forget blue eyes that he’d only just realized never made him any promises.
He’d made those up for himself.
Two for my family
He brushed away the small hand creeping up the inside seam of his jeans, grabbing the almost-but-not quite familiar wrist to still the owner. He stared out the window, noting that Debbie was watering the lawn and, as she waved at him, he grimaced.
“No, Hannah,” Dom repeated firmly, taking care to not bruise her wrist, but also to hold tight enough that she couldn’t reclaim the offending hand. He’d already tried the more gentle responses. Twice. In the last fifteen minutes. “No. This isn’t what I want. It’s not going to happen. You need to go back to your house now.”
Her eyes widened, suspiciously old and sad inside the heavily lined lids and above the candy cane pink lipgloss that looked far too much like innocence to be framing the mouth it was framing.
“Why the shit not?” she spat out, vitriol exiting such a sweet mouth. Blue eyes narrowed and darkened. Too many similarities ... he shuddered at the disconcerting features made almost familiar, almost arousing. “It’s not like it means fucking anything, anyway. You’ve never stopped HIM before.”
He stared at Hannah, loosening his grip imperceptivity as her words hit him. She stared back, anger and sex and vodka and jealousy seeping out of ever-darkening eyes. Her lip curved in what could either have been a snarl or a smile, hovering in the in-between, waiting for his next word.
“No,” he sighed. “I never did stop him.”
Three for my heartache
In spite of what everyone (ViggoOrliBillyHannahDebbieTheBloodyMedia) thought, it wasn’t a total surprise to Dom when Elijah suddenly pulled up all roots, threw a few CDs and treasured t-shirts into a duffel bag and moved across the country. The moment when he walked in to the house was one of those terrible moments that would remain burned into his mind forever – the natural disaster that was heartbreak.
Dominic had come home a little late that day from the meeting with a director, talking about some television pilot with filming projected in Hawaii. He’d bounded in with take-out in his hands, excited about the possibilities behind the character and the connection with the direction, looking to share some joy with ‘Lij.
“Lij!” he called, tossing his keys onto the counter next to an inexplicably large number of Pez dispensers “Ellliiiijjjaahhh!” he crooned, opening the icebox and grabbing two beers and pulling off the tops. “Come on, ye little wanker! I stopped by Bamboo House and got their green curry! Come hear about the bloody meeting and celebrate with ...” He stopped, looking at the front of the icebox.
The bottles were carefully placed on the counter as he ran a finger over the edge of the note on the front of the icebox.
Dom,
This isn’t working. Went to NY.
~ E
Staring blankly at the paper, Dom continued running a finger over the ragged edge of the paper, reaching with his right hand to snag one of the beers and opening it. He needed to get drunk. Now. Ten minutes ago. Yesterday.
It was only as he finished the second beer that he noticed a sharp tang of pain in his pointer finger. Looking down, he recognized the source – hundreds of miniscule papercuts peppered the finger still stroking the note almost tenderly.
Four for my headache
Dominic reached over, palming a thin pale shoulder, the mirror image of his own, minus the minor scars and freckles. It was his perfect shoulder, unmarred, on another man’s body.
“Don’t,” a voice grumbled. “My head’s fuckin’ killing me, Dom. Just ... don’t, ‘k?”
Sighing, Dom laid back on the bed. “Ok. I won’t.”
Five for my loneliness
When he’d first arrived, Dominic had thought that Los Angeles was the answer to the question he'd been asking for years. It was bright and full and vibrating with life. Bars stayed open until 2 am, there was always something to do, somewhere to be. Los Angeles, at first, was like the London he had always wanted – full of possibilities, full of life and dreams and hope. The parties were never ending and Dominic just knew that he was on the verge of something great.
Now, Los Angeles was just LA and Dominic Monaghan was just Dom again. The quaint house he stayed in became the guesthouse behind his mate’s mother’s house (and wasn’t he too bloody old to be living near anybody’s mum?). The hope was fading and Dom was drifting – the offers were coming in, but nothing that he wanted. The parties were still raging, but he found himself doing stranger and stranger things (even for him), just to stay interested.
In the middle of the night when he was trying to ignore the moans coming from the bedroom with whateverwhoever Elijah had picked up that night (“we didn’t make any promises, you fucking wanker, so quit fucking moping.”), Dom thought that maybe he wanted to go home.
But Elijah was here. So Dom stayed.
Six for my sorrow
“What the fuck do ya think you’re doing?” Dom slurred as he grabbed the back of Elijah’s shirt to bring him closer to his snarling face. The music in the club pounded on behind them, becoming louder as the only other person in the men’s room hurried out.
Elijah’s wide eyes narrowed: “What I want, *Dominic*,” he hissed, emphasizing Dom’s full name. “Why the FUCK are you acting like a jealous boyfriend?”
Dom’s heart skipped, his mouth opening and closing without sound coming out. He had just felt rage, seeing Elijah grinding narrow hips up against the barely-dressed girls’ fuller ones. At the time, it had made so much sense, but ... now ... he loosened his grip on Elijah’s collar, but didn’t step away.
His angry eyes turned predatory as he realized that Elijah’s shirt was unbuttoned further than usual and he could see hints of sharp collarbones. Running a finger across the shadows above and below them, he felt Elijah shudder and saw his body start to relax.
As he was mouthing his way across one bone and up his neck, he heard Elijah mutter: “You’re forgiven.”
He glanced up, his tongue coming out to lick a stripe across a pulse point. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
Seven ... no, no, no tomorrow
“Wake up,” breath skated briefly across his face.
“mmmmmpggghhh.”
“Wake. Up.” The voice was a little more insistent now, Dom noticed as he groaned and pulled a pillow over his face.
“No,” he grumbled, burrowing deeper into the blankets. “Donwanna.”
“Dominic,” the voice became exasperated and quite a bit louder. “Get your scrawny British ass out of bed. We have a flight to catch.”
Dominic’s eyes flew open. “Fuck. LA!” he said, scrambling around, trying to get out of bed.
Elijah’s grin grew at the futile attempts, breaking into a full laugh when Dom managed to wrap his legs in the sheets and fall flat on his ass on the floor.
“Shut up,” Dom grumbled. “Fucking 7 am flights. Nobody should ever have to be at an airport at 5 in the morning.”
Elijah leaned down to ruffle Dom’s hair and brush dry lips across his mouth. “No. But it’s for a good cause, isn’t it?”
Dom smiled slightly, thinking of living with Elijah, staying with Elijah, not having to explain why one or the other was always “too tired” to make it all the way home.
“Yeah, that’ll be all right, I think.”
Elijah rolled his eyes and gave Dominic a knowing look. “Right. Just all right.”
As Dom scrubbed his face with some water and pulled on a set of clean(ish) jeans, he noticed that Elijah was just sitting, staring out the window. His voice broke the silence, coming out a little breathy and small: “Are you going to miss it?” he asked, waving at the New Zealand sunrise.
Dom stared at his familiar profile and then looked out at the familiar scenery. “I dunno,” he replied honestly. “Seems like I’m taking the best of it with me.”
Eight ... I forget what eight is for
He knew that Elijah loved this part, when he fell apart slowly under his hands.
Dom loved this part, too.
Elijah’s small hands continued stroking him as he mumbled in his ear: “God, you’re so hot like this – pants around your ankles, biting your lip to keep people from hearing you. You want them to hear you, don’t you Dom? You want everyone to know what I do to you, how to feels to have my hand wrapped around you?”
Dominic groaned quietly, biting down on his lip so hard that he could have almost broken the skin. He did like it and Elijah knew it – he liked the possibility of getting caught, liked knowing that if the cast noticed that he and Elijah had disappeared at the same time from the wrap party, their questions could be answered if they would just stand outside the bathroom door.
Elijah’s voice kept muttering in Dom’s ear, his hand kept stroking up and down his cock, his hips kept jerking against Dom’s ass, the seam of his jeans rubbing in a way that should hurt, but just felt good. He was teetering, right on the edge ...
And then he felt Elijah’s other hand snake around his body and float up under his shirt, pulling once, twice, three times at an already hardened nipple and he fell, lights blurring, sounds melding together and he was. just. gone.
After what could have been five seconds or five years, he realized that he was biting down on something – Elijah’s hand.
He licked at the palm, then drew the hand away from his mouth. “What ...” he started to ask, then was spun around to face the slightly smaller man, who was ...
Smirking. The little bugger was smirking.
“You were getting too loud,” Elijah remarked matter-of-factly. “There’s a difference between almost getting caught and getting caught. You were about to get us caught.”
Dom’s eyes glinted as he slowly ran a tongue across his bottom lip. “Too loud, am I?” he grinned, his eyes becoming predatory. “Let’s see how loud you can be.”
And, as he dropped to his knees and ran a tongue along the teeth of Elijah’s zipper, he sincerely hoped he’d find out.
Nine for the lost car
“But ... didn’t we park here?” Elijah wavered slightly, pouting and looking much more like a petulant teenager than Dom was remotely comfortable with. “I swear, we fucking parked it – right – fucking ...” Elijah trailed off, increasingly confused.
“Elijah?” Dom queried, amusement slowly creeping into his tone.
“Yeah?” Elijah turned to face Dom, raising an eyebrow.
“Did it occur to ye that maybe, just maybe ...” Dom paused for emphasis, noting that Elijah leaned more and more toward him with every second passing. “Maybe if we lose a car, we’re in no condition to be drivin’?”
He quirked one eyebrow (a trick he’d learned from Matthew that he had been particularly proud of in secondary school) and smirked at the younger man.
Elijah’s drink-clouded eyes brightened when the logic of this particular concern hit him. “Taxi! We could get a taxi! Dom, you’re a GENIUS!”
“Aye? And why is that?”
Elijah leaned in, suddenly pressing dry, slightly parted lips against Dom’s. He pulled back, leaving only a bewildered Brit and a trail of breath holding onto traces of whiskey. “Because then I don’t have to explain why I’m staying at your place.”
Dom’s bewilderment, instead of being abated, intensified. “My place?”
At that moment, all of the awkward presses of our their bodies, moments on the dance floor when he wondered at the lost look in Elijah’s eyes, the jokes, the touches, the second glances ... all of the unexplained parts of a friendship so intensely drawn fell into place. Dom’s confused smile turned into a more feral grin. He leaned into Elijah and breathed across the bridge of the smaller man’s nose. “My place?”
Elijah’s confidence stance was betrayed by his nervous hands slowly twisting the cuffs of his shirt. “Yes. Your place. That work for you?”
Dom smiled, a long, slow, languid smile of realization of long-awaited fantasy. “Aye. I think it will work just fine.”
Ten ... everything
The first thing he noticed was that the kid damn near vibrated with energy and excitement. It was hard for Dominic to remember that he was so YOUNG – his interactions shifted so quickly from the seasoned actor giving Billy tips on entertainment lawyers to the awkward teenager, looking around at the world with wide, excited eyes. Leaning back against his seat, Dominic watched Elijah interacting with everyone else, taking the moments of quiet that most people couldn’t believe he needed. Sometimes, he needed to step back to really see - and to see this man clearly was suddenly one of the most important things that Dominic could imagine doing.
He noted Elijah’s hands skittering just above the planes of Billy’s hip as he excitedly described something, his eyes lit up with attention as Billy’s reflected a portion of that light. They both suddenly laughed, leaning into one another – curve of hips meeting briefly, eyes closed and hands clasping over shoulders.
Dom felt something hit the bottom of his stomach at the sight of such abandon. His eyes widened and his hand automatically brought the beer bottle to his mouth. This was why he watched, he knew ... for that moment when people just let. Go.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Clear eyes stared down at his, concerned. When had Elijah moved? How had he not seen?
“Allright there, ‘Lij?” Dom rasped slightly, startled by his own voice.
The eyes cleared and the smile widened, becoming more genuine. “Yeah, Dom. All right. You?”
“Allright, ‘Lijah,” Dom responded, realizing that it was completely, fully true. “All right.”
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I know this was probably a typo (in the header), but I couldn't agree more! lol
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Yeah, it was a typo.
*giggles more*
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That was really powerful, worked really well.
Wow.
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Many thanks.
no subject
Really, really well-written. This: Looking down, he recognized the source – hundreds of miniscule papercuts peppered the finger still stroking the note almost tenderly. made my heart twang.
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Pain and heartache often work backwards...starting from the moment everything fell apart and slowly working through past snippets of events that we hope will eventually remind us that happiness does exist and that we did feel it...once upon a time.
Moving. Balanced. Complete.
I am looking forward to reading more from you :-)
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Exactly. Yis.
Thank you!
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Thank you for the dedication *g* made me squee *licks*
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Ok, OBVIOUSLY dedicated to you and the craziness that is Football.
And to maybe bribe you into writing College!Football
*looks around* what? did somebody say something?
no subject
*licks*