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padawanhilary.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2005-09-08 03:43 pm
padawanhilary.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-09-08 03:43 pm
oneoff: Remembering (Dom/Lijah)
Title: Remembering (1/1, no series)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
padawanhilary
Pairing/Categories: Dom/Lijah
Feedback: Please.
Warnings: BDSM and rough sex
Disclaimers: I do realize this is not real. I also realize I do not know Elijah Wood or Dom Monaghan and I never once believed they're actually shagging, and neither should you.
Dom remembers.
He remembers how it felt to watch Elijah talk so blithely to cameras at five in the morning. Lijah was always so careless -- no, carefree -- that it was almost trite. He was his own walking cliche, happy-go-lucky, a little Hobbit carrying the weight of the production on his shoulders. So happy to be there, happy enough for all of them.
Dom remembers wanting Elijah till he ached with it, and the practical jokes and the wrestling matches and poker and beers on Saturday nights and surfing on Sundays did not help. Not a bit. They all amounted to a laundry list of things that made Dom want to go back to his little flat and toss himself raw. Elijah in a wetsuit. Elijah, rumpled and half-drunk, head tipped into his hand, cards almost visible if only Orlando would tip his head a little more. Elijah, breathless and pink-faced, eyes glittering as Dom let him find his way on top and press already-dirty shoulders into the ground.
Dom always suspected that everyone let Elijah win. It wasn't as though he could be that brilliant a wrestler.
He remembers how it felt to watch Elijah watch people, wondering if that was who Elijah wanted. Wondering, frankly, if Elijah wanted anyone. Wondering, too, how to get Elijah to want him.
He remembers all this as Lijah arches under him, catlike and damp, clawing at the bedcovers as if it's his first time taking it. Dom remembers as he licks his way past Elijah's lips, kissing him hard, an oblique and probably not very good reminder to be quiet. Elijah only remembers to be quiet when Dom starts sucking on his tongue, fellating it, and then Elijah forgets again and moans as if Dom's got his cock instead.
"Hshh," Dom orders, nudging his way down to Elijah's ear and biting, holding there, earlobe pinched between his teeth. He can't remember what it is that made him think that was punishment, but it works every time. Elijah falls silent, still dragging his fingers over the sheets, writhing under Dom's body like a taut little whore, but a silent one.
Dom remembers throwing himself at Elijah because the hope had just got to him, and he remembers thinking something like, blame the hooch as he launched himself off the freshly-closed door and all over Lijah's body. And Lijah received him eagerly, not even startled, really. Dom was surprised at that, that it seemed Lijah had known all along and had simply waited, the little tart.
And Dom supposes he's been punishing Elijah ever since for being such a tease, and Elijah drinks it up. The bites, the hard fucking, the fingernail scratches. Elijah loves it all. Dom remembers wondering how many ways he could claim and re-claim and mark and own after spending so long hopeful and hard, and he's still finding ways and has long since lost count.
Dom finds one now, looping his fingers through the thin studded collar and dragging it down, holding Lijah pinned against the bed now. Elijah's hips are still grinding and spinning, but his head is still, and that lets Dom bite some more, and lick.
"Please," Lijah begs, forgetting again, and Dom bites him. "Oh, God, please." Another bite. Dom doesn't know if Lijah is begging to be bitten or begging to be let go, but he doesn't care. He's claiming again, fucking Elijah's sweat-slick body into the mattress.
He remembers that first time, how frenzied it was, how good Elijah looked pinned front-down on the bed, grinding, torn between the blanket under his cock and Dom's prick up his arse. Dom bit him then, too. Dom can't remember a time he wasn't biting Elijah, and that's good. It's a constant, and he likes it that way. He remembers those breathless, finally-startled noises. Lijah might have known Dom wanted him, but he hadn't known Dom wanted to sink his teeth in so fully, and that gasping, yelping surprise is something that's always going to feel best while Elijah's held down.
"Dom," Elijah whines, and Dom fucks harder, fingers curling tighter around the collar. Elijah has that wild look, that close look, a little panicky, as though Dom would tell him no this time. Dom doesn't manage it very often, but he thinks he will now. He shakes his head, then bites at Elijah's lips, dragging his teeth over the soft skin as he pulls. Elijah's mouth and neck and ear are red from five o'clock shadow, and that's something else he knows Lijah has come to love. It's another claim.
Dom suspects that Elijah loves all of this. He loves being owned. No one's ever done it before. He thinks maybe it makes Lijah feel safe. It doesn't matter why; he just remembers that first time, all the marks Dom left behind, how glad Lijah was that he'd done it even though make-up was going to see them come Monday. He remembers feeling slightly guilty and careless, and he then he remembers how thrilled Elijah was, touching them and pressing on them, rubbing them, all the next day. Punishment, hell.
Dom remembers, too, as he drops his head down beside Elijah's and grinds in, then back, then in again, fingers digging into Lijah's shoulders, what it feels like when Elijah goes away. He thinks about what it would feel like if Lijah let someone else fuck him like this, sticky and tooth-marked and clawed, and it makes him growl. He bites again, around the collar, pulling at it with his teeth, catching on a stud. Elijah yelps and presses up more greedily, and that earns him another bite.
And then it's all too much, between the memories of wanting and not having, and the idea of not having in the future. Another claim is in order, somehow. Dom pulls out and shoves Elijah over, then shoves back in again, dragging up a corner of the sheet, twisting it and dragging it between Elijah's teeth.
Lijah lets out a ragged, muffled groan, relieved; gags mean he can yell behind them, and he'll need to: Dom's fucking him so hard now he hurts inside, sees stars, pulsing white and red flashes behind his eyes. Sometimes he remembers wanting and not having, too, but he can't remember anything while Dom's taking him so hard. Right now, everything was always Dom, and it's easy to forget anything else.
"Don't," Dom grunts, and then he's coming, holding tight and still, shoving Lijah down into the bed one last time.
"Hnn," Elijah whimpers, chewing on twisted fabric, near begging if Dom would only let him.
Dom won't. He pulls back just enough to shove two fingers in, remembering how it felt the first time, tight enough to be virginal, so tense he was sure he had to be hurting. Elijah's twisting like a slut again, back sheened with sweat, and Dom just keeps fucking him, leaning down to lick up salt and then bite randomly. Another yelp through the sheet, pleading. Dom ignores it, keeps fucking, adds another finger. Memories fade and he's right here, swathed in Elijah's desperation, and it's enough. He shoves and wiggles a hand under Lijah's belly and just grips, letting Lijah suffer a little longer, breath keening hard and fast before Dom finally whispers, "yes."
Explosive screams tear through the sheet, and Lijah has tears in his eyes when he comes, rocking and shoving back and forth between Dom's hands. He can't remember not having this done to him. He can't remember not having Dom, or Dom not having him.
Dom stretches out over Elijah's back, panting. He remembers, yes. But he also knows. And that's what's enough.
end
Author:
padawanhilaryPairing/Categories: Dom/Lijah
Feedback: Please.
Warnings: BDSM and rough sex
Disclaimers: I do realize this is not real. I also realize I do not know Elijah Wood or Dom Monaghan and I never once believed they're actually shagging, and neither should you.
Dom remembers.
He remembers how it felt to watch Elijah talk so blithely to cameras at five in the morning. Lijah was always so careless -- no, carefree -- that it was almost trite. He was his own walking cliche, happy-go-lucky, a little Hobbit carrying the weight of the production on his shoulders. So happy to be there, happy enough for all of them.
Dom remembers wanting Elijah till he ached with it, and the practical jokes and the wrestling matches and poker and beers on Saturday nights and surfing on Sundays did not help. Not a bit. They all amounted to a laundry list of things that made Dom want to go back to his little flat and toss himself raw. Elijah in a wetsuit. Elijah, rumpled and half-drunk, head tipped into his hand, cards almost visible if only Orlando would tip his head a little more. Elijah, breathless and pink-faced, eyes glittering as Dom let him find his way on top and press already-dirty shoulders into the ground.
Dom always suspected that everyone let Elijah win. It wasn't as though he could be that brilliant a wrestler.
He remembers how it felt to watch Elijah watch people, wondering if that was who Elijah wanted. Wondering, frankly, if Elijah wanted anyone. Wondering, too, how to get Elijah to want him.
He remembers all this as Lijah arches under him, catlike and damp, clawing at the bedcovers as if it's his first time taking it. Dom remembers as he licks his way past Elijah's lips, kissing him hard, an oblique and probably not very good reminder to be quiet. Elijah only remembers to be quiet when Dom starts sucking on his tongue, fellating it, and then Elijah forgets again and moans as if Dom's got his cock instead.
"Hshh," Dom orders, nudging his way down to Elijah's ear and biting, holding there, earlobe pinched between his teeth. He can't remember what it is that made him think that was punishment, but it works every time. Elijah falls silent, still dragging his fingers over the sheets, writhing under Dom's body like a taut little whore, but a silent one.
Dom remembers throwing himself at Elijah because the hope had just got to him, and he remembers thinking something like, blame the hooch as he launched himself off the freshly-closed door and all over Lijah's body. And Lijah received him eagerly, not even startled, really. Dom was surprised at that, that it seemed Lijah had known all along and had simply waited, the little tart.
And Dom supposes he's been punishing Elijah ever since for being such a tease, and Elijah drinks it up. The bites, the hard fucking, the fingernail scratches. Elijah loves it all. Dom remembers wondering how many ways he could claim and re-claim and mark and own after spending so long hopeful and hard, and he's still finding ways and has long since lost count.
Dom finds one now, looping his fingers through the thin studded collar and dragging it down, holding Lijah pinned against the bed now. Elijah's hips are still grinding and spinning, but his head is still, and that lets Dom bite some more, and lick.
"Please," Lijah begs, forgetting again, and Dom bites him. "Oh, God, please." Another bite. Dom doesn't know if Lijah is begging to be bitten or begging to be let go, but he doesn't care. He's claiming again, fucking Elijah's sweat-slick body into the mattress.
He remembers that first time, how frenzied it was, how good Elijah looked pinned front-down on the bed, grinding, torn between the blanket under his cock and Dom's prick up his arse. Dom bit him then, too. Dom can't remember a time he wasn't biting Elijah, and that's good. It's a constant, and he likes it that way. He remembers those breathless, finally-startled noises. Lijah might have known Dom wanted him, but he hadn't known Dom wanted to sink his teeth in so fully, and that gasping, yelping surprise is something that's always going to feel best while Elijah's held down.
"Dom," Elijah whines, and Dom fucks harder, fingers curling tighter around the collar. Elijah has that wild look, that close look, a little panicky, as though Dom would tell him no this time. Dom doesn't manage it very often, but he thinks he will now. He shakes his head, then bites at Elijah's lips, dragging his teeth over the soft skin as he pulls. Elijah's mouth and neck and ear are red from five o'clock shadow, and that's something else he knows Lijah has come to love. It's another claim.
Dom suspects that Elijah loves all of this. He loves being owned. No one's ever done it before. He thinks maybe it makes Lijah feel safe. It doesn't matter why; he just remembers that first time, all the marks Dom left behind, how glad Lijah was that he'd done it even though make-up was going to see them come Monday. He remembers feeling slightly guilty and careless, and he then he remembers how thrilled Elijah was, touching them and pressing on them, rubbing them, all the next day. Punishment, hell.
Dom remembers, too, as he drops his head down beside Elijah's and grinds in, then back, then in again, fingers digging into Lijah's shoulders, what it feels like when Elijah goes away. He thinks about what it would feel like if Lijah let someone else fuck him like this, sticky and tooth-marked and clawed, and it makes him growl. He bites again, around the collar, pulling at it with his teeth, catching on a stud. Elijah yelps and presses up more greedily, and that earns him another bite.
And then it's all too much, between the memories of wanting and not having, and the idea of not having in the future. Another claim is in order, somehow. Dom pulls out and shoves Elijah over, then shoves back in again, dragging up a corner of the sheet, twisting it and dragging it between Elijah's teeth.
Lijah lets out a ragged, muffled groan, relieved; gags mean he can yell behind them, and he'll need to: Dom's fucking him so hard now he hurts inside, sees stars, pulsing white and red flashes behind his eyes. Sometimes he remembers wanting and not having, too, but he can't remember anything while Dom's taking him so hard. Right now, everything was always Dom, and it's easy to forget anything else.
"Don't," Dom grunts, and then he's coming, holding tight and still, shoving Lijah down into the bed one last time.
"Hnn," Elijah whimpers, chewing on twisted fabric, near begging if Dom would only let him.
Dom won't. He pulls back just enough to shove two fingers in, remembering how it felt the first time, tight enough to be virginal, so tense he was sure he had to be hurting. Elijah's twisting like a slut again, back sheened with sweat, and Dom just keeps fucking him, leaning down to lick up salt and then bite randomly. Another yelp through the sheet, pleading. Dom ignores it, keeps fucking, adds another finger. Memories fade and he's right here, swathed in Elijah's desperation, and it's enough. He shoves and wiggles a hand under Lijah's belly and just grips, letting Lijah suffer a little longer, breath keening hard and fast before Dom finally whispers, "yes."
Explosive screams tear through the sheet, and Lijah has tears in his eyes when he comes, rocking and shoving back and forth between Dom's hands. He can't remember not having this done to him. He can't remember not having Dom, or Dom not having him.
Dom stretches out over Elijah's back, panting. He remembers, yes. But he also knows. And that's what's enough.
end
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And thanks for that comment in the disclaimer, I loved it!
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Thanks
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Lillie
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Muchas gracias for this muy caliente peek into the secret lives of The Hobbits.
JD Greybraid
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