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fellowshippers2003-08-13 03:20 pm
shellies.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-08-13 03:20 pm
Tempted, SA/DM PG-13
Title: Tempted
Author: Shelly
Pairing: Sean A./Dom
Rating: PG-13
Summary: “Am I making you uncomfortable, Dom?”
Archive: Little Things.
Disclaimer: I made it up, just for kicks.
Notes: Written for the Iconography Challenge. Thanks to all my lovely friends for looking it over, as I was quite nervous about this one...![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
captnobvious, dreaminaway, edie22 and ladydarkrose.
this is the icon that my fic is based on...
Dom figured he had about twenty minutes.
He looked over his shoulder one last time before closing the door of the trailer he shared with Billy. Twenty minutes. He crossed halfway across the trailer before he stopped, walked back to the door and clicked the lock just in case. Billy had said he wouldn’t be done with Peter any time soon, but you never knew if someone else was going to stop by.
Stepping back in, he settled himself on the couch and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and his hand went straight between his thighs, rubbing himself through denim. No time for taking it slow, Dom dove headfirst into his favorite fantasy, the one where he is in the exact same spot, looking down at brown hair moving between his legs. Hazel eyes staring back up at him, lips moving around his cock.
Unbuttoning and unzipping were practically reflex, and Dom moaned when his hand wrapped around himself. The fantasy was so real, so vivid that sometimes, laughing with him on the set or at the pub, Dom couldn’t be sure that it hadn’t actually happened.
His strokes began to quicken, and he started to lose himself in sensation, his head lolling back onto the couch.
Minutes later, Dom cleaned himself up in the bathroom and he felt the usual shame wash over him. He’s a married man for christsake. He’s got a wife, a daughter. He’s your co-worker, your friend. He trusts you.
The only thing Dom could be proud of is the fact that he didn’t cry out Sean’s name when he came.
It was possible that Dom was gripping his beer a little too tightly. His knuckles were turning white and his fingers were slipping against the wet glass, slick with condensation. He couldn’t help it. The fantasies—they were starting to blur with reality, and he was either losing his mind completely or Sean had been staring at him all night.
Dom was skillfully avoiding Sean’s eyes, which was quite a talent considering he was sitting across from him and Elijah in the booth. But he felt them, boring holes into his forehead—his forehead because he was looking down, pretending that the foam in his beer was utterly fascinating.
He needed to work on this avoidance thing.
Elijah got up, scooted past Sean and left the booth, leaving them alone. Well, he couldn’t very well continue pondering his beer now, not with Sean still staring at him the way he was. So Dom looked up, giving a shaky smile.
“Where’s Chris tonight?”
“Tired.”
The conversation stopped there, but Sean just kept staring. Dom gripped the handle to his mug, gulped down more beer than was probably necessary, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up again at Sean, looked up just in time to catch him licking his lips. Must be an unconscious thing, surely.
“Am I making you uncomfortable, Dom?” Sean’s voice was low, so low that Dom had to lean in to hear him over the noise of the pub. As he leaned in, elbows on the table, Sean took Dom’s free hand and held it. Dom felt Sean’s shoe shifting against his calf under the table.
“No,” Dom replied, both too quickly and too obviously a lie. His palm was wet in Sean’s and Dom stared at their hands for a moment before pulling away.
Dom didn’t know what to do, so he stammered, “Um, I need another drink, how about you?” He didn’t think to actually wait for Sean’s answer before he walked away.
Dom hadn’t been in the mood for a party, but that’s what the night had turned into.
Walking into the kitchen for another beer, he listened to the shouts of laughter and the loud music blaring from his living room. He heard Elijah’s unmistakable giggle and couldn’t help but laugh himself. As he shut the refrigerator door, though, his smile faltered, his eyes falling on picture stuck to the door with a magnet. A crayon drawing of the four hobbits that Ali drew last week while on set. He stood in front of the door, staring at his name—Merry’s name—with the R’s written backwards, and his smile completely disappeared.
This whole thing had gotten so fucked up. Since the other night, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sean. How Sean had acted, and how he had felt when Sean had taken his hand in his.
He wished he could simply run to his room, pretend the party wasn’t happening at his house, with *him* out there on his couch, holding a beer and laughing with their friends. Him, with those smoldering eyes that kept following Dom around the room.
This battle had been a whole lot easier when it was just between Dom and his own conscience. Inner demons. Sure, he could work through those. But temptation? That was another story altogether.
Sighing, he walked back into the room. Billy stopped him along the way, saying something about that day on set, but Dom didn’t really pay attention. His attention, instead, was drawn to Sean, who was still on the couch and had scooted over to make room for Dom, motioning for him to sit down.
Dom nodded distractedly at Billy, laughed and patted him on the shoulder, hoping that was the appropriate response. He walked slowly to the couch and sat down next to Sean. He left as much space as humanly possible between them, squeezing himself against the arm of the seat, and Dom could swear Sean smirked as he scooted closer to him and placed a free hand on his thigh. His hand was cold through Dom’s pants. He must have been holding his beer in it, Dom thought stupidly, as he tried to ignore the cold moisture of Sean’s palm through his khakis.
Sean looked at him expectantly. Dom wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do at this point, so he opted for safe conversation. Conversation aimed to remind Dom himself exactly why Sean was off limits.
“So, Chris and Ali left today?” he asked.
Sean nodded. “They left this morning.” His hand was still on Dom’s thigh, and Dom was regretting settling so close into the corner of the couch so soon, because now there was no chance at moving away. Not that he really wanted to. But he did. Didn’t. Did. Didn’t.
“So…um, they’ll be gone for a while, eh?” He was grasping for conversation again, anything to forget the feel of Sean so close to him.
Sean took a swig of his beer, and nodded again. “Two months, at least.”
Dom attempted a comforting smile, which turned more into a grimace, eyes becoming transfixed on Sean’s Adam’s apple as he gulped down more beer. “Must be rough.”
Sean sighed and shrugged, turning to face Dom. “You know all those rumors you hear about Hollywood couples?” he asked. Dom looked at him blankly. Sean continued, conversationally, as though he were discussing how New Zealand had been getting more rain than usual this season. “You know, about open marriages and understandings between couples in the industry?”
Dom gulped, nodding.
Sean took his hand off Dom’s thigh and used it to help himself up off the couch. He turned to face Dom and leaned in, his lips touching Dom’s ear as he whispered confidentially, “They’re all true.”
The party had died down to a few dwindling friends, and Dom couldn’t have been more relieved. Since Sean’s ever-so-casually dropped bombshell a few hours earlier, he had been a nervous wreck. Sean had virtually ignored Dom for the remainder of the evening, only paying him enough attention to cast a meaningful look his way every so often.
Dom was still confused, but smart enough to realize one thing. He was being given time.
He looked down at his half-full beer, which had grown warm in his palm. Despite how excellent being drunk off his arse sounded, he had figured that getting pissed probably wasn’t a good idea. His attention was pulled from his neglected drink to the door, and he waved goodnight to Orlando and Liv. Billy was already curled up in an armchair, dead to the world, and Sean and Elijah were the last guests, talking in the kitchen.
Dom pulled a blanket over Billy before grabbing a few empty bottles and heading for the kitchen.
He stood awkwardly at the door, watching the two men talk for a moment. He suddenly felt very out of place in his own home. He coughed, drawing attention to himself. Elijah—never quite as naïve as he looked—glanced between the two, picked up his keys and said he’d see them tomorrow as he showed himself out.
Cue the cheesy porno music and the line, “alone at last.”
Dom stared at Sean for a moment, blinking, and began to gather up more bottles, throwing them all away in a large garbage bag. He moved hurriedly around the small kitchen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Sean would get bored and go home. Then he could have a nice wank while thinking about his married friend, who apparently was all for fucking him, and just go. to. sleep.
He looked up at Sean, who was leaning with one arm against the table. Dom faltered, then went to grab an empty cup on the table. Sean stopped his wrist halfway.
“Dom.”
Dom paused, placed the cup back down and relaxed his arms. He looked at Sean, who was inching closer, and started to speak.
“Sean, I don’t think-“
“Shhhh.” Sean’s arms circled Dom’s waist, and Dom sighed heavily. He let his head fall on Sean’s shoulder, and allowed himself to enjoy the hand making patterns on his back.
Sean’s breath was in his ear, and it made Dom shiver. Sean pulled back and asked plainly, “Do you want this?”
All he could do was nod, and that was good enough for Sean. When their lips met, emotions swirled in Dom’s head, fear and lust and guilt and want all jumbled up into one constant funnel. His lips parted and he welcomed Sean’s tongue.
When they broke apart, Sean smiled. Dom smiled back, albeit shakily, and took Sean’s hand. He thought how sometimes admitting defeat was the bravest thing to do.
As they left the kitchen, Dom gripped Sean’s hand a little tighter, and tried to ignore the backwards R’s burning a hole into his back.
End.
Author: Shelly
Pairing: Sean A./Dom
Rating: PG-13
Summary: “Am I making you uncomfortable, Dom?”
Archive: Little Things.
Disclaimer: I made it up, just for kicks.
Notes: Written for the Iconography Challenge. Thanks to all my lovely friends for looking it over, as I was quite nervous about this one...
captnobvious, dreaminaway, edie22 and ladydarkrose. this is the icon that my fic is based on...
Tempted
Dom figured he had about twenty minutes.
He looked over his shoulder one last time before closing the door of the trailer he shared with Billy. Twenty minutes. He crossed halfway across the trailer before he stopped, walked back to the door and clicked the lock just in case. Billy had said he wouldn’t be done with Peter any time soon, but you never knew if someone else was going to stop by.
Stepping back in, he settled himself on the couch and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and his hand went straight between his thighs, rubbing himself through denim. No time for taking it slow, Dom dove headfirst into his favorite fantasy, the one where he is in the exact same spot, looking down at brown hair moving between his legs. Hazel eyes staring back up at him, lips moving around his cock.
Unbuttoning and unzipping were practically reflex, and Dom moaned when his hand wrapped around himself. The fantasy was so real, so vivid that sometimes, laughing with him on the set or at the pub, Dom couldn’t be sure that it hadn’t actually happened.
His strokes began to quicken, and he started to lose himself in sensation, his head lolling back onto the couch.
Minutes later, Dom cleaned himself up in the bathroom and he felt the usual shame wash over him. He’s a married man for christsake. He’s got a wife, a daughter. He’s your co-worker, your friend. He trusts you.
The only thing Dom could be proud of is the fact that he didn’t cry out Sean’s name when he came.
It was possible that Dom was gripping his beer a little too tightly. His knuckles were turning white and his fingers were slipping against the wet glass, slick with condensation. He couldn’t help it. The fantasies—they were starting to blur with reality, and he was either losing his mind completely or Sean had been staring at him all night.
Dom was skillfully avoiding Sean’s eyes, which was quite a talent considering he was sitting across from him and Elijah in the booth. But he felt them, boring holes into his forehead—his forehead because he was looking down, pretending that the foam in his beer was utterly fascinating.
He needed to work on this avoidance thing.
Elijah got up, scooted past Sean and left the booth, leaving them alone. Well, he couldn’t very well continue pondering his beer now, not with Sean still staring at him the way he was. So Dom looked up, giving a shaky smile.
“Where’s Chris tonight?”
“Tired.”
The conversation stopped there, but Sean just kept staring. Dom gripped the handle to his mug, gulped down more beer than was probably necessary, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up again at Sean, looked up just in time to catch him licking his lips. Must be an unconscious thing, surely.
“Am I making you uncomfortable, Dom?” Sean’s voice was low, so low that Dom had to lean in to hear him over the noise of the pub. As he leaned in, elbows on the table, Sean took Dom’s free hand and held it. Dom felt Sean’s shoe shifting against his calf under the table.
“No,” Dom replied, both too quickly and too obviously a lie. His palm was wet in Sean’s and Dom stared at their hands for a moment before pulling away.
Dom didn’t know what to do, so he stammered, “Um, I need another drink, how about you?” He didn’t think to actually wait for Sean’s answer before he walked away.
Dom hadn’t been in the mood for a party, but that’s what the night had turned into.
Walking into the kitchen for another beer, he listened to the shouts of laughter and the loud music blaring from his living room. He heard Elijah’s unmistakable giggle and couldn’t help but laugh himself. As he shut the refrigerator door, though, his smile faltered, his eyes falling on picture stuck to the door with a magnet. A crayon drawing of the four hobbits that Ali drew last week while on set. He stood in front of the door, staring at his name—Merry’s name—with the R’s written backwards, and his smile completely disappeared.
This whole thing had gotten so fucked up. Since the other night, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sean. How Sean had acted, and how he had felt when Sean had taken his hand in his.
He wished he could simply run to his room, pretend the party wasn’t happening at his house, with *him* out there on his couch, holding a beer and laughing with their friends. Him, with those smoldering eyes that kept following Dom around the room.
This battle had been a whole lot easier when it was just between Dom and his own conscience. Inner demons. Sure, he could work through those. But temptation? That was another story altogether.
Sighing, he walked back into the room. Billy stopped him along the way, saying something about that day on set, but Dom didn’t really pay attention. His attention, instead, was drawn to Sean, who was still on the couch and had scooted over to make room for Dom, motioning for him to sit down.
Dom nodded distractedly at Billy, laughed and patted him on the shoulder, hoping that was the appropriate response. He walked slowly to the couch and sat down next to Sean. He left as much space as humanly possible between them, squeezing himself against the arm of the seat, and Dom could swear Sean smirked as he scooted closer to him and placed a free hand on his thigh. His hand was cold through Dom’s pants. He must have been holding his beer in it, Dom thought stupidly, as he tried to ignore the cold moisture of Sean’s palm through his khakis.
Sean looked at him expectantly. Dom wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do at this point, so he opted for safe conversation. Conversation aimed to remind Dom himself exactly why Sean was off limits.
“So, Chris and Ali left today?” he asked.
Sean nodded. “They left this morning.” His hand was still on Dom’s thigh, and Dom was regretting settling so close into the corner of the couch so soon, because now there was no chance at moving away. Not that he really wanted to. But he did. Didn’t. Did. Didn’t.
“So…um, they’ll be gone for a while, eh?” He was grasping for conversation again, anything to forget the feel of Sean so close to him.
Sean took a swig of his beer, and nodded again. “Two months, at least.”
Dom attempted a comforting smile, which turned more into a grimace, eyes becoming transfixed on Sean’s Adam’s apple as he gulped down more beer. “Must be rough.”
Sean sighed and shrugged, turning to face Dom. “You know all those rumors you hear about Hollywood couples?” he asked. Dom looked at him blankly. Sean continued, conversationally, as though he were discussing how New Zealand had been getting more rain than usual this season. “You know, about open marriages and understandings between couples in the industry?”
Dom gulped, nodding.
Sean took his hand off Dom’s thigh and used it to help himself up off the couch. He turned to face Dom and leaned in, his lips touching Dom’s ear as he whispered confidentially, “They’re all true.”
The party had died down to a few dwindling friends, and Dom couldn’t have been more relieved. Since Sean’s ever-so-casually dropped bombshell a few hours earlier, he had been a nervous wreck. Sean had virtually ignored Dom for the remainder of the evening, only paying him enough attention to cast a meaningful look his way every so often.
Dom was still confused, but smart enough to realize one thing. He was being given time.
He looked down at his half-full beer, which had grown warm in his palm. Despite how excellent being drunk off his arse sounded, he had figured that getting pissed probably wasn’t a good idea. His attention was pulled from his neglected drink to the door, and he waved goodnight to Orlando and Liv. Billy was already curled up in an armchair, dead to the world, and Sean and Elijah were the last guests, talking in the kitchen.
Dom pulled a blanket over Billy before grabbing a few empty bottles and heading for the kitchen.
He stood awkwardly at the door, watching the two men talk for a moment. He suddenly felt very out of place in his own home. He coughed, drawing attention to himself. Elijah—never quite as naïve as he looked—glanced between the two, picked up his keys and said he’d see them tomorrow as he showed himself out.
Cue the cheesy porno music and the line, “alone at last.”
Dom stared at Sean for a moment, blinking, and began to gather up more bottles, throwing them all away in a large garbage bag. He moved hurriedly around the small kitchen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Sean would get bored and go home. Then he could have a nice wank while thinking about his married friend, who apparently was all for fucking him, and just go. to. sleep.
He looked up at Sean, who was leaning with one arm against the table. Dom faltered, then went to grab an empty cup on the table. Sean stopped his wrist halfway.
“Dom.”
Dom paused, placed the cup back down and relaxed his arms. He looked at Sean, who was inching closer, and started to speak.
“Sean, I don’t think-“
“Shhhh.” Sean’s arms circled Dom’s waist, and Dom sighed heavily. He let his head fall on Sean’s shoulder, and allowed himself to enjoy the hand making patterns on his back.
Sean’s breath was in his ear, and it made Dom shiver. Sean pulled back and asked plainly, “Do you want this?”
All he could do was nod, and that was good enough for Sean. When their lips met, emotions swirled in Dom’s head, fear and lust and guilt and want all jumbled up into one constant funnel. His lips parted and he welcomed Sean’s tongue.
When they broke apart, Sean smiled. Dom smiled back, albeit shakily, and took Sean’s hand. He thought how sometimes admitting defeat was the bravest thing to do.
As they left the kitchen, Dom gripped Sean’s hand a little tighter, and tried to ignore the backwards R’s burning a hole into his back.
End.