(no subject)

[rosechilled.livejournal.com]

Title: Shift
Pairing: Domlijah
Notes: I tried a new technique when I wrote this. It's more abstract, and I've never written anything like this before, so I'd really love to know what you think of it and hear your feedback on whether you like the style or not. Thanks to Beanie for being my beta!




The clicking of a lock. An open door. Hunched figure against the railing.

"Hey."

"Dominic."

"Yeah." A beat. "Well you gonna ask me in or what?"

"Oh. Right."

A step back. Elijah lets him pass.

"You, uh, left this at my place."

A CD pushed into Elijah's hands.

"Oh, yeah, I'd been meaning to call and ask about it...."

Silence. Pockets the CD.

"So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Call me."

"Oh. I, erm, I don't really know, just... busy I suppose."

Remembers manners.

"Why don't you have a seat. I'll get some beers."

"Sure."

The couch sags.

Two bottles of beer appear in two pale hands.

"So, about Orlando..."

Dom coughs.

"You don't have to explain."

A beat.

This repetitive silence thing is getting annoying.

"Yeah, but..." Breathe Elijah. Deep breath. "I was drunk, Orlando was drunk, and the Lords of Fucking Acid starts playing that goddamned Young Boys song, and then one thing lead to another and before I know it he's got me pinned up against the fucking pool table-"

"Really Lighe, I don't need to hear this."

"-and the next thing you know we're screwing like a pack of wild rabits-"

"Elijah-"

"-and everything's blurry and the pool table's shaking-"

"ELIJAH!"

Silence.

The faint grumbling of a throat being cleared.

"Yes, Dominic?'

"Never. Ever. Describe your sex life with Orlando to me in graphic detail agian."

"Right."

The rapping of fingers against a still unopened beer bottle.

"So you, um, want to hear the rest?"

A glare.

"Right."

Beat.

"I'm sorry."

"Elijah, shut up."

"Well I am."

"Shut up. This is akward."

Silght shifting. The squeaking of the couch.

"So... you forgive me?"

"Yeah. I guess I do."