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karri.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2003-10-13 09:18 am
karri.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-10-13 09:18 am
Fic: Full Disclosure
Title: Full Disclosure
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
karri
Pairing: Elijah/Dom
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Milton Keynes, curious fangirls, and thou.
Disclaimer: Fiction = false.
Notes: Beta'd by the lovelydorrie6. Hope you're feeling better. :) Obviously this was inspired by various Collectormania 4 reports, but is otherwise entirely fictional; and I wasn't even there, so please forgive me if I got any obviously factual details wrong.
Saturday October 4th, 2003; Somewhere in Milton Keynes
Elijah stared blankly at the television, cycling through channels and listening with half an ear to Dom’s conversation.
“Right. And no olives, please. Thanks.” Dom put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked over at Elijah. “Sure you don’t want anything?”
Elijah shook his head, and Dom went back to the phone. “That’s all, then. Twenty? Great, thanks. Bye.”
He replaced the receiver with a clunk and announced, “Twenty minutes.”
Abandoning hope of finding something decent to watch (what was the deal with British TV, anyway, showing nothing but Australian soap operas and documentaries narrated by people with posh accents?) Elijah hit the off button on the remote and dropped it on the bed, then rolled on to his back, feet resting on the pillows. “I can’t believe you just ordered pizza from room service.”
“Oy,” Dom protested. “Get your smelly feet off my pillow.” When Elijah didn’t move, Dom pushed them off himself. Elijah put them straight back on again, and Dom gave up, flopping over them, his chest squashing Elijah’s shins. “What’s wrong with ordering pizza from room service, anyway? I bet the Beatles - "
“ – did it all the time,” Elijah chimed in with a laugh. He wiggled his toes against Dom’s arm. “I don’t know to break this to you, Dom, but you’re not a Beatle.”
“Maybe not, but there are hundreds of women out there that I’ve never met who want to sleep with me.”
Elijah snorted. “You keep telling yourself that, man. And there was a pizza place just down the street. We could’ve made it that far.”
Dom shrugged and turned over so he was facing the roof, shifting on Elijah’s legs until he was comfortable. “It’s late, and I’m tired. I’d forgotten how long PJ made that damn movie. And considering I’ve spent two hours listening to a bunch of girls sigh every time Orlando flicked his hair, I think I deserve some pizza delivered to my door.”
Elijah faked horror. “Surely they didn’t! It must have been Merry they liked, really.”
“Not a one.” Dom sighed theatrically, then perked up. “Still, I could’ve sworn one of them was winking at me when we were doing questions. Pity she looked about eleven.”
“Yeah.” Elijah laughed. “Damn those paedophilia laws, right?”
Dom sat up, leaving Elijah’s legs feeling oddly cold in the blasting air-conditioning. “They’re mad, you know. One of them at the movie tonight even asked about that internet thing – you know, about those sites that say we’re gay and being oppressed by New Line and all that.”
Elijah couldn’t suppress a groan. “They didn’t.”
“They did.”
Elijah sat up as well so he could see Dom, instead of a generic white hotel-room ceiling. “Y’know, I really don’t get it. Me, I can understand, but you… you blatantly check girls out, you grope random fans, you fucking kiss them, with tongue – in fact you’re possibly the straightest guy ever to wear make-up and a wig - and they still think you’re gay. What is with that?”
“Maybe I’m just so incredibly attractive that half the population would be devastated if they thought they didn’t have a chance,” Dom suggested with a rakish grin. “And anyway, I’m not so straight as all that.”
Elijah snorted. “You and Sean were like the heterosexual hobbits, man. Of course you’re straight.”
Dom shrugged. “Yeah, for the most part. But I’ve slept with a couple of guys.”
“You’ve sle – ” Elijah’s mouth hung open. It was just like Dom, to come out and say something like that, and after four years Elijah still couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “No way. You’re fucking with me.”
Dom shook his head. “Completely serious.”
“You – ” Elijah stared at Dom. Dom just stared back, calm as anything, his animated face still for once; and that, more than anything, convinced Elijah that he was telling the truth. “Seriously? Fuck! When, man? How is it possible that I didn’t know about this?” After a couple of hundred nights spent drunk on each other’s couches talking about shit that Elijah had never discussed with anyone else, ever, including his own fucked-up sexuality, Dom had just never mentioned it?
Dom shrugged again. “You never asked.”
Elijah concentrated on just breathing for a moment, because anything else was proving too difficult. “I didn’t think I had to!” Then, because the question was going to burst out of him whether he wanted it to or not, “Did you… in New Zealand?”
“Yeah, once or twice.”
Elijah’s chest felt oddly tight. “With…”
“No one you know.” Dom grinned at him. “You thought I fucked Orli, didn’t you?”
Elijah forced out a laugh. “No.” No, but he had seen the way Orlando had looked at Dom, so the idea wasn’t as far-fetched as all that. It had just never bothered him before. And fuck, why was he feeling jealous over Dom all of a sudden? He shook his head as if that would fix things, but the odd tightness in his chest refused to go away.
Dom still seemed to be finding the whole thing very amusing. “Lijah, Lijah, Lijah,” he tutted. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s a bad idea to sleep with your cast-mates? And besides, there are still some of us who are immune to elf-boy’s charms, you know. It probably has something to do with knowing what he looks like in a tutu.”
Elijah knew it was meant to make him laugh - Dom’s way of relieving the tension - and he jumped on it gratefully, letting out a giggle. “Fuck, that was funny, wasn’t it?”
“I’m never going to forget the look on his face when he found out Viggo had a camera.” Dom demonstrated, widening his eyes comically and assuming a wounded expression. “ ‘But guys, why didn’t you tell me? I never would’ve gone through with it if I’d known you were going to take photos!’”
He had Orlando’s special mix of self-assurance and wounded disbelief down perfectly, and this time Elijah laughed so hard that he actually fell off the bed, landing face-first on the floor. The drop knocked the breath out of him for a moment, but then the expression on Dom’s face came back to him and he started giggling again. “Oh man, that was classic.”
“And that little pout he does,” Dom said. There was a pause, during which he was obviously demonstrating, and Elijah dragged himself up off the carpet into a sitting position so he could turn and see -
He froze.
Dom was not, as he’d expected, a safe distance away on the bed; but was hanging off the end with his face only an inch away from Elijah’s own. He could even feel Dom’s breath on his face (which meant nothing, really, and it had no right to make his chest do that fucking tightening thing again, because he’d been this close to Dom so many times before and the only thing that ever came of it was a bit of good-natured bitching about garlic breath after the catering people had gone all Italian), and his own breathing seemed to have stopped entirely. He blinked, and opened his mouth.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Fuck.” Spell broken, a horrified Elijah stumbled to his feet. “Um, that’ll be your pizza.” Dom just pulled back slightly, his face unreadable as he watched Elijah run a hand through messy, uneven hair. “I’d – I’m pretty tired, I think I’m gonna go crash. So… I’ll see you tomorrow. At the – ah, signing. Yeah. Bye.”
The room service guy looked only mildly curious as Elijah elbowed past him and out the door.
Sunday October 5th, 2003; still somewhere in Milton Keynes
Dom was staying in room number 3062. Elijah knew this very well, because he’d been standing in front of the door for the past five minutes, staring at the brass plated numbers, and trying to make himself knock.
It was ridiculous. This was Dom, for fuck’s sake, the same guy he’d whipped out his dick with in the middle of a New Zealand square, and the only person except his mother who knew that Bugsy the stuffed rabbit lived in Elijah’s suitcase to keep him company when he was away from home; and now Elijah couldn’t even get up the nerve to talk to him, even though they’d seen each other all day. But then that had been before... well, just before.
He took a deep breath, spat out the nail he’d just chewed off, and stepped forward.
Right. He would do this. Knock on the door knock on the door knock on the door do it do it–
The door flew open. Elijah’s fist froze inches from Dom’s face, and he stared at it in confusion. How had it gotten there?
“Hey, Lij.”
Elijah cleared his throat. “Uh, hi.”
Dom gave him a very strange look; Elijah thought about it for a second and then realised he should put his hand down. Despite instructions that it hang in a nonchalant manner, it drifted to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt. He cleared his throat again, but couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I… well, I was hungry, and I thought you might want to order some pizza.”
“Spending eight hours today sitting next to me wasn’t enough for you, then?” Dom opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come on in.”
Dom’s room looked much the same as it had the night before, but with a slightly bigger pile of dirty clothes in the corner. Elijah sat down on the edge of the bed, hands under his thighs in an attempt to stop them going anywhere, and Dom threw himself down next to him, bouncing gently as the bed settled.
“So what’s going on?” Dom asked. He scrabbled around on the bedside table for a minute, and then, finding the television remote, turned the volume down low. Elijah wished he’d turn it back up again, because then Dom would be less likely to hear whatever crap came out of Elijah’s mouth.
It seemed to be behaving for the time being. “Nothing much.”
“Yeah? How’d your thing go tonight, with Sean?”
“It was all right.” Elijah made a noise that was supposed to be a laugh, but came out more like a squeak. “Someone asked about those internet things again, you know, those rumours. I thought Sean was going to ask them to leave.”
“Ah.” Dom gave him a considering look. “So that’s what this is about.”
Elijah squirmed under the scrutiny. “This is what what’s about?”
“Why you’re acting so strangely.”
“I’m not acting strangely!”
Dom rolled his eyes and stood up, hands by his sides, feet planted shoulder-width apart. Elijah watched him, frowning. “All right, go on then," Dom said.
"Go on then, what?"
"Go on, lay one on me."
If his face hadn’t been frozen in a ridiculous half-grin, Elijah might have laughed. As it was, he could barely breathe.
“You’re joking, right?”
Dom sighed. “Look, I know you, Lij. You found out yesterday that I’ve been with guys before, and people keep suggesting that we’re together, so you’re thinking 'what if'. Right?”
Elijah shut his eyes and nodded mutely. Fucking Dom, reading his mind again.
“So if we don't get it over with now then you won’t let go of it. You’ll just keep worrying about it and you’ll probably bite your bloody fingernails so they start bleeding and then I'll have your mum on the phone ticking me off for not playing nicely. So.” Dom shifted his weight from one foot to the other, impatient. “You’re worrying, I’m willing, let’s go for it and get it over with so we can go back to being mates.”
Elijah’s laugh broke free, but it came out as a nervous titter. “Ri... right now? You want me to kiss you. Here?”
Dom looked pointedly around the small hotel room. “Would you prefer to do it tomorrow at the signing and give some of those girls a thrill?” He grinned wickedly. “Hey, maybe we should, and then we could invite one of them to join in.”
That got Elijah off the bed and standing opposite Dom before another word was spoken. Dom might’ve looked like he was joking, but Elijah wouldn’t put it past him to go through with it just for kicks.
It did not, however, get him any further; and after they had stood there awkwardly for a minute, Dom muttered, “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” and grabbed him by the arms, yanked him forwards and kissed him.
Dom’s mouth hit Elijah’s face somewhere in the vicinity of his chin. The relief that accompanied this (see, it’s just Dom, you don’t feel anything) lasted just as long as it took Dom to shift his lips a crucial inch upwards, when it was replaced with oh, fuck. By the time Dom’s tongue swept into Elijah’s mouth and hands had moved from shoulders to more southerly parts of his anatomy, the little voice in his head had given it up for lost.
Fuck, but Dom was good with his tongue. Elijah had seen him going at it with girls before – well, they all had, Dom wasn’t exactly discreet – but to be on the receiving end was a whole different story. Almost against his will, Elijah’s arms went up and wrapped around Dom’s shoulders to pull him closer. Dom murmured something in response – what, exactly, Elijah wasn’t sure, lost as it was in the press of their mouths – and tugged back, licking into Elijah’s mouth with renewed vigour. In fact, neither of them really seemed to want to let go, and in the end it was only the persistent sense of this is not a good idea that made Elijah try to end the kiss by turning his head to the side, holding his mouth out of reach. Dom hardly seemed to notice, busy as he was mouthing Elijah’s jaw.
“Dom – fuck, Dom – "
Still no response. Summoning up every last shred of willpower he possessed, Elijah stepped decisively backwards, stumbling a little when Dom failed to let go until the last possible second.
Separated by almost a metre, they stared at each other, both breathing hard. Elijah thought the slight shine of moisture on Dom’s upper lip was possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen, which was ridiculous considering he’d seen Dom in a lot more compromising positions than that over the years. But somehow, this was different.
His brain, which was apparently disconnected from the rest of him, decided now would be a good time to state the obvious. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Dom sat down on the bed, a vaguely shell-shocked look on his face. Elijah felt a little burst of pride.
“And, it – um. It didn’t cure me of anything.”
“Me neither.” Dom shifted slightly, leaning towards Elijah and then away again. “In fact, I think it might have – created a new problem, even.”
Elijah’s eyes shifted to Dom’s waist, where a small but tell-tale bulge had appeared; and Elijah’s heart, which had apparently been trying to bungy-jump out of his chest, performed some fancy mid-air acrobatics.
He licked his lips, unconsciously. “I might have a few ideas for how to fix that.” He took a step towards the bed, then hesitated, his brain temporarily reasserting control. “But, Dom. I don’t want to – y’know, screw things up between us just because we’re both horny as fuck.”
Not that he wouldn’t go for it even if he could only have this, (after all, it was Dom), but it would be nice to be warned beforehand. Forewarned is forearmed, and all that sort of thing, and then maybe he’d be able to leave in the morning with a tiny bit of his dignity intact.
Dom’s expression was wavering between solemn contemplation and an alarmingly wide grin, as if he wanted to appear serious but couldn’t quite manage it. “And if it wasn’t just that neither of us have gotten laid recently?” he asked.
All the possible implications of this ran through Elijah’s head. “You mean...”
Dom shrugged, casually, as if suggesting that he might be romantically interested in his best friend was something he did every day. “Yeah, why not? I like you, you like me; where’s the problem?”
The cheeky set of Dom’s face made something finally click in Elijah’s head. “You fucker!” he exclaimed. “You planned this! That’s why you told me all that shit last night.”
“Well, not planned, exactly,” Dom admitted, grinning even wider, and Elijah found himself unable to stay annoyed. “But I had… considered the possibility.” He stood up from the bed and took Elijah’s left hand in his right, running his fingertips over Elijah’s stubbly nails. “So, do you want to?”
Elijah bit his lip, his re-awakened brain sending up even more red flags. “But what about not fucking cast-mates?” he asked, trying to ignore the feeling of Dom’s fingers curling into his palm. “And won’t people notice?”
“We finished shooting three years ago, Lijah. And I already told everyone I’m going to hold your hand on the red carpet at the premiere for King.” He tugged on Elijah’s hand, and Elijah followed, moving until they were almost toe-to-toe. His voice dropped to a low rumble. “It would serve them right if we really did, wouldn’t it?”
Elijah smiled slightly, and brought their joined hands up between them, brushing his lips against one of Dom’s knuckles.
“To fucking with people’s heads,” he said.
“No, to fucking you,” Dom replied, and kissed him.
Author:
karriPairing: Elijah/Dom
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Milton Keynes, curious fangirls, and thou.
Disclaimer: Fiction = false.
Notes: Beta'd by the lovely
dorrie6. Hope you're feeling better. :) Obviously this was inspired by various Collectormania 4 reports, but is otherwise entirely fictional; and I wasn't even there, so please forgive me if I got any obviously factual details wrong. Saturday October 4th, 2003; Somewhere in Milton Keynes
Elijah stared blankly at the television, cycling through channels and listening with half an ear to Dom’s conversation.
“Right. And no olives, please. Thanks.” Dom put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked over at Elijah. “Sure you don’t want anything?”
Elijah shook his head, and Dom went back to the phone. “That’s all, then. Twenty? Great, thanks. Bye.”
He replaced the receiver with a clunk and announced, “Twenty minutes.”
Abandoning hope of finding something decent to watch (what was the deal with British TV, anyway, showing nothing but Australian soap operas and documentaries narrated by people with posh accents?) Elijah hit the off button on the remote and dropped it on the bed, then rolled on to his back, feet resting on the pillows. “I can’t believe you just ordered pizza from room service.”
“Oy,” Dom protested. “Get your smelly feet off my pillow.” When Elijah didn’t move, Dom pushed them off himself. Elijah put them straight back on again, and Dom gave up, flopping over them, his chest squashing Elijah’s shins. “What’s wrong with ordering pizza from room service, anyway? I bet the Beatles - "
“ – did it all the time,” Elijah chimed in with a laugh. He wiggled his toes against Dom’s arm. “I don’t know to break this to you, Dom, but you’re not a Beatle.”
“Maybe not, but there are hundreds of women out there that I’ve never met who want to sleep with me.”
Elijah snorted. “You keep telling yourself that, man. And there was a pizza place just down the street. We could’ve made it that far.”
Dom shrugged and turned over so he was facing the roof, shifting on Elijah’s legs until he was comfortable. “It’s late, and I’m tired. I’d forgotten how long PJ made that damn movie. And considering I’ve spent two hours listening to a bunch of girls sigh every time Orlando flicked his hair, I think I deserve some pizza delivered to my door.”
Elijah faked horror. “Surely they didn’t! It must have been Merry they liked, really.”
“Not a one.” Dom sighed theatrically, then perked up. “Still, I could’ve sworn one of them was winking at me when we were doing questions. Pity she looked about eleven.”
“Yeah.” Elijah laughed. “Damn those paedophilia laws, right?”
Dom sat up, leaving Elijah’s legs feeling oddly cold in the blasting air-conditioning. “They’re mad, you know. One of them at the movie tonight even asked about that internet thing – you know, about those sites that say we’re gay and being oppressed by New Line and all that.”
Elijah couldn’t suppress a groan. “They didn’t.”
“They did.”
Elijah sat up as well so he could see Dom, instead of a generic white hotel-room ceiling. “Y’know, I really don’t get it. Me, I can understand, but you… you blatantly check girls out, you grope random fans, you fucking kiss them, with tongue – in fact you’re possibly the straightest guy ever to wear make-up and a wig - and they still think you’re gay. What is with that?”
“Maybe I’m just so incredibly attractive that half the population would be devastated if they thought they didn’t have a chance,” Dom suggested with a rakish grin. “And anyway, I’m not so straight as all that.”
Elijah snorted. “You and Sean were like the heterosexual hobbits, man. Of course you’re straight.”
Dom shrugged. “Yeah, for the most part. But I’ve slept with a couple of guys.”
“You’ve sle – ” Elijah’s mouth hung open. It was just like Dom, to come out and say something like that, and after four years Elijah still couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “No way. You’re fucking with me.”
Dom shook his head. “Completely serious.”
“You – ” Elijah stared at Dom. Dom just stared back, calm as anything, his animated face still for once; and that, more than anything, convinced Elijah that he was telling the truth. “Seriously? Fuck! When, man? How is it possible that I didn’t know about this?” After a couple of hundred nights spent drunk on each other’s couches talking about shit that Elijah had never discussed with anyone else, ever, including his own fucked-up sexuality, Dom had just never mentioned it?
Dom shrugged again. “You never asked.”
Elijah concentrated on just breathing for a moment, because anything else was proving too difficult. “I didn’t think I had to!” Then, because the question was going to burst out of him whether he wanted it to or not, “Did you… in New Zealand?”
“Yeah, once or twice.”
Elijah’s chest felt oddly tight. “With…”
“No one you know.” Dom grinned at him. “You thought I fucked Orli, didn’t you?”
Elijah forced out a laugh. “No.” No, but he had seen the way Orlando had looked at Dom, so the idea wasn’t as far-fetched as all that. It had just never bothered him before. And fuck, why was he feeling jealous over Dom all of a sudden? He shook his head as if that would fix things, but the odd tightness in his chest refused to go away.
Dom still seemed to be finding the whole thing very amusing. “Lijah, Lijah, Lijah,” he tutted. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s a bad idea to sleep with your cast-mates? And besides, there are still some of us who are immune to elf-boy’s charms, you know. It probably has something to do with knowing what he looks like in a tutu.”
Elijah knew it was meant to make him laugh - Dom’s way of relieving the tension - and he jumped on it gratefully, letting out a giggle. “Fuck, that was funny, wasn’t it?”
“I’m never going to forget the look on his face when he found out Viggo had a camera.” Dom demonstrated, widening his eyes comically and assuming a wounded expression. “ ‘But guys, why didn’t you tell me? I never would’ve gone through with it if I’d known you were going to take photos!’”
He had Orlando’s special mix of self-assurance and wounded disbelief down perfectly, and this time Elijah laughed so hard that he actually fell off the bed, landing face-first on the floor. The drop knocked the breath out of him for a moment, but then the expression on Dom’s face came back to him and he started giggling again. “Oh man, that was classic.”
“And that little pout he does,” Dom said. There was a pause, during which he was obviously demonstrating, and Elijah dragged himself up off the carpet into a sitting position so he could turn and see -
He froze.
Dom was not, as he’d expected, a safe distance away on the bed; but was hanging off the end with his face only an inch away from Elijah’s own. He could even feel Dom’s breath on his face (which meant nothing, really, and it had no right to make his chest do that fucking tightening thing again, because he’d been this close to Dom so many times before and the only thing that ever came of it was a bit of good-natured bitching about garlic breath after the catering people had gone all Italian), and his own breathing seemed to have stopped entirely. He blinked, and opened his mouth.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Fuck.” Spell broken, a horrified Elijah stumbled to his feet. “Um, that’ll be your pizza.” Dom just pulled back slightly, his face unreadable as he watched Elijah run a hand through messy, uneven hair. “I’d – I’m pretty tired, I think I’m gonna go crash. So… I’ll see you tomorrow. At the – ah, signing. Yeah. Bye.”
The room service guy looked only mildly curious as Elijah elbowed past him and out the door.
Sunday October 5th, 2003; still somewhere in Milton Keynes
Dom was staying in room number 3062. Elijah knew this very well, because he’d been standing in front of the door for the past five minutes, staring at the brass plated numbers, and trying to make himself knock.
It was ridiculous. This was Dom, for fuck’s sake, the same guy he’d whipped out his dick with in the middle of a New Zealand square, and the only person except his mother who knew that Bugsy the stuffed rabbit lived in Elijah’s suitcase to keep him company when he was away from home; and now Elijah couldn’t even get up the nerve to talk to him, even though they’d seen each other all day. But then that had been before... well, just before.
He took a deep breath, spat out the nail he’d just chewed off, and stepped forward.
Right. He would do this. Knock on the door knock on the door knock on the door do it do it–
The door flew open. Elijah’s fist froze inches from Dom’s face, and he stared at it in confusion. How had it gotten there?
“Hey, Lij.”
Elijah cleared his throat. “Uh, hi.”
Dom gave him a very strange look; Elijah thought about it for a second and then realised he should put his hand down. Despite instructions that it hang in a nonchalant manner, it drifted to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt. He cleared his throat again, but couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I… well, I was hungry, and I thought you might want to order some pizza.”
“Spending eight hours today sitting next to me wasn’t enough for you, then?” Dom opened the door wider and stepped back. “Come on in.”
Dom’s room looked much the same as it had the night before, but with a slightly bigger pile of dirty clothes in the corner. Elijah sat down on the edge of the bed, hands under his thighs in an attempt to stop them going anywhere, and Dom threw himself down next to him, bouncing gently as the bed settled.
“So what’s going on?” Dom asked. He scrabbled around on the bedside table for a minute, and then, finding the television remote, turned the volume down low. Elijah wished he’d turn it back up again, because then Dom would be less likely to hear whatever crap came out of Elijah’s mouth.
It seemed to be behaving for the time being. “Nothing much.”
“Yeah? How’d your thing go tonight, with Sean?”
“It was all right.” Elijah made a noise that was supposed to be a laugh, but came out more like a squeak. “Someone asked about those internet things again, you know, those rumours. I thought Sean was going to ask them to leave.”
“Ah.” Dom gave him a considering look. “So that’s what this is about.”
Elijah squirmed under the scrutiny. “This is what what’s about?”
“Why you’re acting so strangely.”
“I’m not acting strangely!”
Dom rolled his eyes and stood up, hands by his sides, feet planted shoulder-width apart. Elijah watched him, frowning. “All right, go on then," Dom said.
"Go on then, what?"
"Go on, lay one on me."
If his face hadn’t been frozen in a ridiculous half-grin, Elijah might have laughed. As it was, he could barely breathe.
“You’re joking, right?”
Dom sighed. “Look, I know you, Lij. You found out yesterday that I’ve been with guys before, and people keep suggesting that we’re together, so you’re thinking 'what if'. Right?”
Elijah shut his eyes and nodded mutely. Fucking Dom, reading his mind again.
“So if we don't get it over with now then you won’t let go of it. You’ll just keep worrying about it and you’ll probably bite your bloody fingernails so they start bleeding and then I'll have your mum on the phone ticking me off for not playing nicely. So.” Dom shifted his weight from one foot to the other, impatient. “You’re worrying, I’m willing, let’s go for it and get it over with so we can go back to being mates.”
Elijah’s laugh broke free, but it came out as a nervous titter. “Ri... right now? You want me to kiss you. Here?”
Dom looked pointedly around the small hotel room. “Would you prefer to do it tomorrow at the signing and give some of those girls a thrill?” He grinned wickedly. “Hey, maybe we should, and then we could invite one of them to join in.”
That got Elijah off the bed and standing opposite Dom before another word was spoken. Dom might’ve looked like he was joking, but Elijah wouldn’t put it past him to go through with it just for kicks.
It did not, however, get him any further; and after they had stood there awkwardly for a minute, Dom muttered, “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” and grabbed him by the arms, yanked him forwards and kissed him.
Dom’s mouth hit Elijah’s face somewhere in the vicinity of his chin. The relief that accompanied this (see, it’s just Dom, you don’t feel anything) lasted just as long as it took Dom to shift his lips a crucial inch upwards, when it was replaced with oh, fuck. By the time Dom’s tongue swept into Elijah’s mouth and hands had moved from shoulders to more southerly parts of his anatomy, the little voice in his head had given it up for lost.
Fuck, but Dom was good with his tongue. Elijah had seen him going at it with girls before – well, they all had, Dom wasn’t exactly discreet – but to be on the receiving end was a whole different story. Almost against his will, Elijah’s arms went up and wrapped around Dom’s shoulders to pull him closer. Dom murmured something in response – what, exactly, Elijah wasn’t sure, lost as it was in the press of their mouths – and tugged back, licking into Elijah’s mouth with renewed vigour. In fact, neither of them really seemed to want to let go, and in the end it was only the persistent sense of this is not a good idea that made Elijah try to end the kiss by turning his head to the side, holding his mouth out of reach. Dom hardly seemed to notice, busy as he was mouthing Elijah’s jaw.
“Dom – fuck, Dom – "
Still no response. Summoning up every last shred of willpower he possessed, Elijah stepped decisively backwards, stumbling a little when Dom failed to let go until the last possible second.
Separated by almost a metre, they stared at each other, both breathing hard. Elijah thought the slight shine of moisture on Dom’s upper lip was possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen, which was ridiculous considering he’d seen Dom in a lot more compromising positions than that over the years. But somehow, this was different.
His brain, which was apparently disconnected from the rest of him, decided now would be a good time to state the obvious. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Dom sat down on the bed, a vaguely shell-shocked look on his face. Elijah felt a little burst of pride.
“And, it – um. It didn’t cure me of anything.”
“Me neither.” Dom shifted slightly, leaning towards Elijah and then away again. “In fact, I think it might have – created a new problem, even.”
Elijah’s eyes shifted to Dom’s waist, where a small but tell-tale bulge had appeared; and Elijah’s heart, which had apparently been trying to bungy-jump out of his chest, performed some fancy mid-air acrobatics.
He licked his lips, unconsciously. “I might have a few ideas for how to fix that.” He took a step towards the bed, then hesitated, his brain temporarily reasserting control. “But, Dom. I don’t want to – y’know, screw things up between us just because we’re both horny as fuck.”
Not that he wouldn’t go for it even if he could only have this, (after all, it was Dom), but it would be nice to be warned beforehand. Forewarned is forearmed, and all that sort of thing, and then maybe he’d be able to leave in the morning with a tiny bit of his dignity intact.
Dom’s expression was wavering between solemn contemplation and an alarmingly wide grin, as if he wanted to appear serious but couldn’t quite manage it. “And if it wasn’t just that neither of us have gotten laid recently?” he asked.
All the possible implications of this ran through Elijah’s head. “You mean...”
Dom shrugged, casually, as if suggesting that he might be romantically interested in his best friend was something he did every day. “Yeah, why not? I like you, you like me; where’s the problem?”
The cheeky set of Dom’s face made something finally click in Elijah’s head. “You fucker!” he exclaimed. “You planned this! That’s why you told me all that shit last night.”
“Well, not planned, exactly,” Dom admitted, grinning even wider, and Elijah found himself unable to stay annoyed. “But I had… considered the possibility.” He stood up from the bed and took Elijah’s left hand in his right, running his fingertips over Elijah’s stubbly nails. “So, do you want to?”
Elijah bit his lip, his re-awakened brain sending up even more red flags. “But what about not fucking cast-mates?” he asked, trying to ignore the feeling of Dom’s fingers curling into his palm. “And won’t people notice?”
“We finished shooting three years ago, Lijah. And I already told everyone I’m going to hold your hand on the red carpet at the premiere for King.” He tugged on Elijah’s hand, and Elijah followed, moving until they were almost toe-to-toe. His voice dropped to a low rumble. “It would serve them right if we really did, wouldn’t it?”
Elijah smiled slightly, and brought their joined hands up between them, brushing his lips against one of Dom’s knuckles.
“To fucking with people’s heads,” he said.
“No, to fucking you,” Dom replied, and kissed him.
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