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fellowshippers2004-01-18 01:47 pm
hidden-features.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-01-18 01:47 pm
The Way Rain Falls
Title: The Way Rain Falls
Rating: R
Summary: Elijah isn't exactly what he seems to Dom.
Pairing: Domlijah
Disclaimer: None of this is true. It is all made up. Go back to your regularly scheduled lives.
Author's Notes: These are the three parts that I have written so far. They have already been posted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
domlijah and at my personal journal ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hidden_features, but I'm slow on the uptake, and forgot to post them here.
It was, in all honesty, the sex that saved their relationship. Dominic only realized this as he lay back on top of his rumpled comforter next to a sleeping Elijah. The room had the sharp smell of the city, with the pale hints of lube and cum, and he breathed it all before he sighed heavily and turned away from the man next to him to face the wall.
The night air was warm and mild; there was no need for sheets, let alone clothing. Dom let his hand rest on his hip, pressing his palm flat to the smooth, pallid skin so that his fingers raised slightly, pointing up at the mirror on the wall. They were long, abnormally so, and Elijah had been absently painting them black with a permanent marker while they were watching the telly earlier. Only one of them, the pinkie on his right hand, had smeared so the opaque nail shone through. He liked the look.
Elijah gave a small noise, almost a yawn and almost a snore, and Dom smiled. He was thinking about the sex again, not that it ever really left his mind. Sex with Elijah was like no other sex before. It was mind-numbingly gentle, and peacefully wild; he no way to describe it without twisting his tongue into knots.
And it was only then that he thought of what it meant to him, and what it meant to the two of them. They had been having an on-again, off-again relationship for weeks, months, and what seemed like a lifetime. They had so many problems that Dominic lost track of what he was fighting over and just fought with Elijah to get it over with. But then they would have sex, and nothing else between them mattered.
They might have another fight tomorrow morning over coffee, or it might come while watching the channel nine news; he had no idea. But it would happen, and their shouts would shake things on the tables and the door slammings would knock pictures from the wall. Then there would be sex, and the same effects would happen from the bed knocking the wall as they pumped in and out, in and out.
"Dommie?" Elijah's voice was soft; he was still half-asleep. Dominic turned toward Elijah and saw one of the most beautiful sights of his life. Elijah's eyes were wide, his teeth biting down on just the tip of his tongue, and his hand was grasping his erect cock with ferocity. "Good, you're awake."
Dom nuzzled the side of Elijah's neck, and let his hand trail to meet Elijah's at the base of his cock. "If you're ever in this predicament, you have every right to wake me, Lij." He squeezed, and loved the whimper that Elijah gave. "I'm here to please, after all."
"Thank god for you, then." The two of them said nothing more the rest of the night, though the bed slamming against the wall may have been Morse Code for bliss.
**
Dominic opened his eyes, and quickly closed them again. The window blinds had been pulled up, the sunlight was stinging his eyes, and he only wanted two more minutes of sleep. He groped for Elijah with his hand, but found nothing but the folds of his still made, if messily, bed. Finally, he pried open his eyes.
He was alone in the bed, in the room, with nothing covering him but the translucent sunlight. Even his clothing, which along with Elijah's had been strewn about as soon as they had gotten home from the theatre last night, was gone; but so was Elijah's. Normally, the two of them would lay around for hours, talking, touching, and griping about how much each morning seemed to come. Dom would complain about getting old, and Elijah would complain about being too young, and then they might have had sex again before finally rolling out to face the day.
"Lij?" Dom didn't know what good it did to call, but call he did anyway. The door was shut, but the flat was small enough that Elijah should have been able to hear from even the kitchen. He noticed no footsteps coming from down the hall, and he sat up. Even if something was wrong, or if the fight had already begun without his knowledge, Elijah would have come when called.
The first thing Dom noticed when he sat up was that he had the biggest headache in the world; the second was that his clothing was all folded neatly into a stack on the floor by the door. Elijah was not a tidy person, even more so in the morning, and Dom doubted that he had ever folded an article of clothing in his life. All Lij's clothing was jammed into his closet, and even when he packed, there was no order to the mess. Something wasn't right. "Elijah!"
Clothing isn't necessary when running though your own flat, looking for your boyfriend, Dom found; neither was caring when he banged your knee on the corner of the bookcase that held all of Elijah's CD cases. And when he had gone through the entire apartment without finding any trace of Elijah, Dom slunk back into the living room and stared at the coffee table for awhile.
When the phone rang, he was up in a heartbeat. And when it was only a telemarketer asking if he wanted to try a new phone service, he hung up without a word.
The apartment felt empty and cold all of a sudden, and Dominic found himself rummaging though his closet to find a pair of jeans and a shirt when the phone rang again. This time it was Billy, and Dominic answered the phone as he buttoned up his shirt.
"Hello?"
"Heya."
"Hi Billy." It was pointless small talk in a world that was making Dominic feel small. Elijah wasn't there, had left no note, and absolutely nothing of his own except for his stupid CD case collection. Stupid fucking CDs that Dom would have thrown from the window like Frisbees if they had been anyone's but Elijah's.
"What's wrong? Something's wrong. Where's Elijah?" Billy always knew everything that was going on even when no one else did. "Put Elijah on, Dom. Are you hurt?"
"I can't, Billy. Elijah's-"
"Oh god, what's wrong with Elijah? Dom, is he hurt?" Billy also jumped to conclusions too damn much.
"No. He's gone. I don't know where he went to." The tears that had started forming in the corner of his eyes were as much a surprise to Dominic as they would have been to anyone else. With all the shouts from Elijah that it was over, and all the threats of leaving from both of them, Dom would have thought he wouldn't be so worked up when it actually happened; that it would have prepared him for something like this. But it still stung so much that it hurt, because he knew deep down that Elijah wouldn't have just left unless something was seriously wrong.
The line was silent for a minute, and Dom let one, two, three tears roll down his cheek before Billy spoke again. "Have you talked to Orlando yet?" His voice didn't have panic in it so much as concern, now. And Dominic furrowed his brow.
"No, why? Would he know something?" He heard a click, and the line buzzed. Billy had hung up on him. "Billy!" Dom threw the phone at the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. He couldn't care less as he put his head in his hands. Too much had been happening in too little a time.
He didn't remember how long he sat there, staring at the darkness captured behind his fingers, only that when he lifted his head again, the windows were foggy and rain-streaked. Dominic sniffed and stood up, laughing bitterly to himself over how poorly he had buttoned up his shirt, and then slammed down the window. He hadn't even heard it start raining. Just like he hadn't heard Elijah leaving.
Have you talked to Orlando yet? Dom looked at where the phone lay on the hardwood, tiny pieces of plaster littering the floor around it, and picked it up. It did nothing when he pushed the on button twice, and he nearly threw it again in frustration.
"Jesus Christ…" All he wanted to do was to go back into his room, close his eyes, and then wake up to find that this was some sort of a bad dream. That Elijah was next to him and that they were fighting again, or having sex again. Anything for him to be there to hold and love and... and...
Why was he just sitting here? Billy's first suspicions may have held some truth. Maybe Elijah was hurt, or lost, or... Have you talked to Orlando yet? Or maybe he was having a fight with Bloom right now, or just fucking Bloom now. Dominic didn't want to think anything of Billy's words, but it was all he could do to keep himself from remembering that Elijah was, as a matter of fact, not in the next room ready to comfort him. So he thought, and he thought hard.
He looked around, and saw a package of Elijah's cigarettes lying on top the bookcase. He stretched onto his toes and pulled them down.
Dom had never been one to smoke. But, with all that was happening, he wanted one so badly now. He didn't even remember lighting it. All he knew was that he crawled onto the couch and lay there, staring at the black screen of the television smoking one of Elijah's cigarettes, thinking, until it was just a long stick of ash. And even then, he didn't really fall asleep. He just stopped thinking for awhile, and had dreams that twisted into nightmares. And he cried.
Have you talked to Orlando yet?
**
The television in the corner blared things that really didn't matter. News from a country he's honestly never heard of, and commercials for a hair product he'd never use. And the longer Dom sat there, the more he knew that he had to get up and do something to occupy his morning better than rotting his brain.
He flicked off the telly, and picked up his phone from his lap again. It was still warm from the call three minutes ago.
Ring. Dominic cradled his cell against his ear with one hand and held his coffee mug gingerly with the other. The coffee, black, had gone cold long ago as he sat there, calling everyone he knew... except Orlando.
There was something physiological about not calling the person he had been wanting to. Perhaps if he avoided it long enough, Elijah would magically come home and everything would be good again. They would fight, and things would be good. Ring.
Elijah had been the first he had called, naturally. And Dom had found himself letting off a string of highly Americanized curses and the lid snapped closed far harder than he had wanted to when he found Lij's phone turned off. And for the next hour and a half, when he had called Elijah between other friends, the same result.
Ring.
Viggo's answering machine came on, and Dom clicked his phone shut. He didn't actually have anything planned to say when, and if, he got a hold of anyone; it was all just a distraction from the truth.
He finally took a drink from his mug, and despite its mellow, revolting taste, he swallowed. Perhaps this coffee symbolized his life with Elijah; or perhaps it may start raining ducks down out in the streets any moment. Dominic Monaghan was to philosophical as Elijah Wood was to orderly.
Elijah.
He wondered for a moment how he had managed to sleep at all last night. He wondered how he had managed to contain himself within the walls of his apartment, within his own personal prison. And he managed to sigh a deep sigh and chuckle to himself.
Dom stared at the phone in his hand for a moment. It was amazing that he had remained sane this long and had restrained himself from running out to find Elijah. But then again, maybe that's what every other person would have done. Maybe he should stop hiding behind his worries and call.
He stood up to get more coffee, leaving his phone behind on the couch cushion.
**
"Hello, this is Orlando, and I'm not in. Leave your name and nu-" Dom turned off his phone again. God damn, why is no one home today? It was another beautiful night outside, but Dominic didn't see it at all. Now that he had finally worked up the nerve to call, the bugger wasn't fucking there, and so he only saw his own stupidity.
He was stupid for not calling sooner, and stupid for not noticing if there were warning signs for Elijah to leave like that. And it pissed him off royally.
Dom had paid a bit more for his cell phone, so instead of throwing it, he only shoved it into his nightstand drawer and pouted angrily on the edge of his bed, like a small child might. Dominic the three-year-old, wanting candy. Elijah the peppermint stick. Heh.
Thinking of Elijah, however, made him stand from the bed. This was not how he should have been acting at all. If Elijah wanted to fuck Bloom, then Elijah could just fucking go ahead and fuck fucking Bloom. Fuckity fuck. He had better things to be doing then moping around his apartment waiting for him. Dominic glowed with vivacity.
He was a movie star. He could go anywhere he wanted, be with anyone he wanted, and do anything he damn well pleased, Elijah by his side or not.
Dom looked over to the spot by the door where his folded clothing still lay, as if mocking him. His favorite jeans were in that stack. Stop being a wuss. Maybe this was why Lij left...
He got the image of Elijah again. Of Elijah on the bed before him, spread out and erect, clothed and kept warm only by the flickering florescent light hanging over their bed. And he was moaning, and Dom could feel himself getting hard just picturing it. Dom wanted nothing more then to go down on his cock, to lick and suck, see if he was only peppermint in his dreams or not, because he had forgotten Elijah's taste.
Of course, when he lifted his eyelids again, Elijah disappeared and all that was left was the irritating, glinting light and the imaginary taste of peppermint lingering on his tongue that he so wanted to be real. Dominic sighed again and picked his jeans out of the pile. There were creases at the knees. He honestly couldn't have cared less.
Pants fastened, shirt changed, socks found strewn over the top of the mirror and shoes located from where they had been stuffed under the bed. Dom wasn't sure if he should have showered or not; he wasn't sure if he cared or not. His keys were in the bowl on the kitchen table, just as they always were, and a light jacket was pulled from the closet by the door.
And he briefly thought about slipping his phone into his pocket, just incase Elijah decided to call, but decided against it. He was going out to forget Elijah anyway, so why wait up for him, and why care about him?
But he did care about Elijah. That was the clincher about his whole chimera he was living in at the moment. Dom did hurt over the fact that Elijah was gone, and Dom did only want to either forget he had ever lived, or forget that Elijah had ever returned his feelings of affection.
The night air was soft and calm, only the slight brush of car exhaust lingering over the clear scent of the ocean. No clouds blemished the ebony sky, but there were no stars, either. Just the black of night and the feeling of being small and alone that Dom knew all too well.
His keys in his pocket made a rhythm to Dom's steps as they knocked against his cell phone, which was there only in an emergency, he had assured himself. There would be no more calling Orlando, no more wondering why Elijah had his phone off. Perhaps Orlando really was just out somewhere, and Elijah was out of batteries. And maybe Elijah was hurt along the roadside somewhere, reaching for his dead phone, wanting to call Dom one more time before he was in the same state.
And maybe Dominic wouldn't believe the bullshit he was telling himself any longer, and would just go out and have some fucking fun.
**
The house was uneasily quiet. And as Dom let himself back in, the first blotches of sunlight filtering over the horizon to make him greet the goddamn day, he realized that he was grateful. With the amount of alcohol sloshing around in his system now, he doubted he could have dealt with a pin drop.
Dominic admitted it, he had drunken a little too much in a little too short of time. He was completely smashed, and having a hard time maneuvering his way around furniture. There was no memory of how he got home, or of where he had been or why he had done it all alone, only a hollow hole in his heart that he had tried filling.
He didn't even remember that Elijah's car should not have been parked in front of the flat, or that the bedroom light had been flicked off when he had left.
So it wasn't a surprise to him to find Elijah sprawled out on the bed, his clothing still on and his eyes closed. Dom simply climbed into bed next to him and let his eyes flutter shut in a drunken dance, mixed words that meant nothing at all waltzing through his head.
**
Three words ran through Dominic's mind as he woke up, and then out his mouth when he opened his eyes. It was a little from his hangover, a little from seeing Elijah curled up peacefully in his arms. "Holy Fucking Hell."
The noise Elijah made as he nuzzled into Dom's side would have been cute if he hadn't been pushed forcefully away and woken up. He sat there, blinking his eyes for a moment, until he licked his lips. "Dommie, what's wrong?" Dominic didn't have the will to laugh, even though that's what every fiber in him felt like doing.
"What do you mean, what's wrong, Elijah? You left two days ago, no note, and no anything but your god damn CD bookcase and my folded clothing!" And as Dom shouted at the top of his lungs, he realized that, just perhaps, he should stop holding Elijah so tightly and get up. He did no such thing. "You, King Wanker of the World, just up and left! I was-" Worried sick. "So sure that you would call, but of course not! Too busy with Bloom to ring, were you?"
"Alright, Dom, calm down." Elijah had the hurt look in his eyes again, the one that Dom detested but would make no motions over now. "I left, and I'm sorry. I didn't call, and I'm sorry. But what the hell is this about Orlando?"
Dominic sat there, staring up at the ceiling, still holding Lij tight, for a minute that seemed like an hour. "You know perfectly well what this is about when I ask about Orlando!" Head swiveled to face the boy next to him, and he finally pulled himself away. "Billy said th-"
"Don't, Dom. Don't bring that up, because it doesn't matter."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"I… I was with Orlando once." The quiet that filled the room could have shattered the pin before it dropped. "But not yesterday. Not then. God, it was years ago. Back, way back, when we first started shooting. Before we even existed."
"I've existed on Earth a hell of a lot longer than you have, may I remind you." Dom bit his bottom lip and crossed his arms over his chest, half to show false anger and half to conceal real pain.
"What? No, I mean the two of us. Together. You know..." Elijah let out a tiny giggle, and Dom looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Having sex. And Billy knew about that then."
"Billy said that you were with Orlando now."
"Billy would say anything to break us up." Dom couldn't help but roll back over to face Elijah after that comment. The look in Lij's eyes was too striking to be anything but real. And Dom didn't want to know why the comment struck him like it did. "But anyway, that's got nothing to do with where I went. I was visiting my mother, Dommie. She… she had a stroke last night."
Dom said nothing, and Elijah continued, simply to break the tension between them. "I went out there to be with her, and I left as soon as I could. That's why I had no time to leave a note. My cell batteries were dead, and I left my charger here, so that was out too. I'm so sorry, Dom. I… I wasn't with Bloom. I'll give you that much."
"My clothes. Why the hell did you fold my clothes?" Dominic wanted to reach out and touch Elijah again, to wrap his arms around him tight and suffocate the past two days in that embrace, but he did no such thing.
"I was folding them when I got the call, actually. I couldn't sleep, and was looking for something to do. And you keep this place so clean, normally, that seeing that shirt and pants thrown about made me feel bad. I was just trying to be helpful, and in the process, I got the call. God, I'm so sorry. Honest. Swear on everything I could."
"No, I should be the one sorry. I jumped to conclusions I shouldn't have." Only now did he hug Lij again, kissed his cheek again and tasted the tears that trailed down his cheek again. "I just thought-"
"Billy jumps to conclusions, not you." Elijah nuzzled again, and they stayed like that until the soft sounds of snoring came from the boy in Dom's arms and Dom didn't know wither he wanted to cry or not. Billy jumps to conclusions. He keeps saying that.
It wasn't that Dominic didn't trust Elijah. He knew well enough that Lij wouldn't have lied about his mother like that. Just as the way that Elijah had looked as he said it, the way that his eyes were crushed and nearly midnight in the faint light had bared his soul. He wasn't lying, though maybe he wasn't telling the truth, either. There had been something about the way the words came. Something he didn't believe. This is Elijah fucking Wood, and this was his god damned mother. He wouldn't lie!
But he also knew that Billy wouldn't lie, either, even if he was just brining up the past. Billy knew that with those words, Dom would have worried and gotten angry. Perhaps Elijah was telling even more of the truth that Billy wanted to break them apart and in pieces, though Dom saw no reason why.
**
"Pass the pancakes." Elijah was hidden behind his newspaper, the trails of smoke from his cigarette swirling slowly above his head, and Dom stuck his tongue out at him as he nudged the plate of pancakes towards him.
The two of them had gotten up at about three that afternoon, and were now eating pancakes for fucking dinner while Elijah smoked and Dom thought. And neither found anything about it odd in the least.
"You know, most people would say please." Dom twirled his fork on his plate, watching it trace patterns in the syrup, and then groaned. The day was completely gone, and had gotten nothing accomplished more than making the damn pancakes and having sex with Elijah twice. So, actually, it wasn't all that bad.
"I'm not most people."
"No, you certainly aren't. Because if you were, I could say 'I fuck most people' and you might get mad." Elijah looked at him over the top of his paper.
"You're not funny, Monaghan." But Elijah was laughing anyway.
"Any plans for today that I should know about?" Dom leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Or any that I shouldn't?" He winked at Elijah, who stopped laughing and transferred a pancake from the pile to his own plate.
There was a silence that encroached on awkward; Elijah folded his paper up and set it down next to his coffee mug, cigarette jutting out from his lips, though really it was only a cylinder of ash by then. "Dom, I love you."
"I love you too, mate." Wasn't it obvious to Elijah that he loved him? Wasn't it clear, the way they had just been moaning each others names, and the way that… just the way that he had forgiven him?
Dominic made himself sound like a prick with that last thought. A complete bastard, but one who still stuck with that though all the same. He had fucking forgiven Elijah for going off to where he was, wherever that had been, and that should have made him a wonderful person. A war hero, a legend among men. But he felt like a jackass all the same, and quickly smiled off his thoughts.
"I'm gonna swing out and over to that new CD shop on the corner, you know. See if they have-"
"Elijah, if you don't own it, they won't have it. Jesus, that bookcase is enormous, and I know that those are only your favorites. Obsessions, much?" Dom was just taking the piss, and Lij knew it; how could he not? Dom did it every day, while wrapped up in the sheets and Elijah's arms each morning, teasing and taunting about the damn CDs. So he frowned when Elijah dropped his cigarette butt into his coffee mug and stood up, chair legs scraping from the sudden push backwards.
"Yeah, yeah. But I'll be out for awhile anyway, mister cheerful." A dry look came about Elijah as he carried his plates past Dom into the kitchen, a far away look, but Dom didn't see; he had taken to looking over the crossword on Elijah's paper. It was a small one, with easy words, and he would have done it, had there not been a crash of china from the entry.
He bound up, mind racing. Elijah's hurt, Elijah's dead, Elijah's ha- He paused, mid-thought and mid breath as he stood on the threshold between the dining room and the hall.
Billy, standing in the front entrance, looked just as surprised as Dom felt and Elijah seemed. "Erm... Heya guys."
**
Rating: R
Summary: Elijah isn't exactly what he seems to Dom.
Pairing: Domlijah
Disclaimer: None of this is true. It is all made up. Go back to your regularly scheduled lives.
Author's Notes: These are the three parts that I have written so far. They have already been posted at
domlijah and at my personal journal hidden_features, but I'm slow on the uptake, and forgot to post them here.It was, in all honesty, the sex that saved their relationship. Dominic only realized this as he lay back on top of his rumpled comforter next to a sleeping Elijah. The room had the sharp smell of the city, with the pale hints of lube and cum, and he breathed it all before he sighed heavily and turned away from the man next to him to face the wall.
The night air was warm and mild; there was no need for sheets, let alone clothing. Dom let his hand rest on his hip, pressing his palm flat to the smooth, pallid skin so that his fingers raised slightly, pointing up at the mirror on the wall. They were long, abnormally so, and Elijah had been absently painting them black with a permanent marker while they were watching the telly earlier. Only one of them, the pinkie on his right hand, had smeared so the opaque nail shone through. He liked the look.
Elijah gave a small noise, almost a yawn and almost a snore, and Dom smiled. He was thinking about the sex again, not that it ever really left his mind. Sex with Elijah was like no other sex before. It was mind-numbingly gentle, and peacefully wild; he no way to describe it without twisting his tongue into knots.
And it was only then that he thought of what it meant to him, and what it meant to the two of them. They had been having an on-again, off-again relationship for weeks, months, and what seemed like a lifetime. They had so many problems that Dominic lost track of what he was fighting over and just fought with Elijah to get it over with. But then they would have sex, and nothing else between them mattered.
They might have another fight tomorrow morning over coffee, or it might come while watching the channel nine news; he had no idea. But it would happen, and their shouts would shake things on the tables and the door slammings would knock pictures from the wall. Then there would be sex, and the same effects would happen from the bed knocking the wall as they pumped in and out, in and out.
"Dommie?" Elijah's voice was soft; he was still half-asleep. Dominic turned toward Elijah and saw one of the most beautiful sights of his life. Elijah's eyes were wide, his teeth biting down on just the tip of his tongue, and his hand was grasping his erect cock with ferocity. "Good, you're awake."
Dom nuzzled the side of Elijah's neck, and let his hand trail to meet Elijah's at the base of his cock. "If you're ever in this predicament, you have every right to wake me, Lij." He squeezed, and loved the whimper that Elijah gave. "I'm here to please, after all."
"Thank god for you, then." The two of them said nothing more the rest of the night, though the bed slamming against the wall may have been Morse Code for bliss.
**
Dominic opened his eyes, and quickly closed them again. The window blinds had been pulled up, the sunlight was stinging his eyes, and he only wanted two more minutes of sleep. He groped for Elijah with his hand, but found nothing but the folds of his still made, if messily, bed. Finally, he pried open his eyes.
He was alone in the bed, in the room, with nothing covering him but the translucent sunlight. Even his clothing, which along with Elijah's had been strewn about as soon as they had gotten home from the theatre last night, was gone; but so was Elijah's. Normally, the two of them would lay around for hours, talking, touching, and griping about how much each morning seemed to come. Dom would complain about getting old, and Elijah would complain about being too young, and then they might have had sex again before finally rolling out to face the day.
"Lij?" Dom didn't know what good it did to call, but call he did anyway. The door was shut, but the flat was small enough that Elijah should have been able to hear from even the kitchen. He noticed no footsteps coming from down the hall, and he sat up. Even if something was wrong, or if the fight had already begun without his knowledge, Elijah would have come when called.
The first thing Dom noticed when he sat up was that he had the biggest headache in the world; the second was that his clothing was all folded neatly into a stack on the floor by the door. Elijah was not a tidy person, even more so in the morning, and Dom doubted that he had ever folded an article of clothing in his life. All Lij's clothing was jammed into his closet, and even when he packed, there was no order to the mess. Something wasn't right. "Elijah!"
Clothing isn't necessary when running though your own flat, looking for your boyfriend, Dom found; neither was caring when he banged your knee on the corner of the bookcase that held all of Elijah's CD cases. And when he had gone through the entire apartment without finding any trace of Elijah, Dom slunk back into the living room and stared at the coffee table for awhile.
When the phone rang, he was up in a heartbeat. And when it was only a telemarketer asking if he wanted to try a new phone service, he hung up without a word.
The apartment felt empty and cold all of a sudden, and Dominic found himself rummaging though his closet to find a pair of jeans and a shirt when the phone rang again. This time it was Billy, and Dominic answered the phone as he buttoned up his shirt.
"Hello?"
"Heya."
"Hi Billy." It was pointless small talk in a world that was making Dominic feel small. Elijah wasn't there, had left no note, and absolutely nothing of his own except for his stupid CD case collection. Stupid fucking CDs that Dom would have thrown from the window like Frisbees if they had been anyone's but Elijah's.
"What's wrong? Something's wrong. Where's Elijah?" Billy always knew everything that was going on even when no one else did. "Put Elijah on, Dom. Are you hurt?"
"I can't, Billy. Elijah's-"
"Oh god, what's wrong with Elijah? Dom, is he hurt?" Billy also jumped to conclusions too damn much.
"No. He's gone. I don't know where he went to." The tears that had started forming in the corner of his eyes were as much a surprise to Dominic as they would have been to anyone else. With all the shouts from Elijah that it was over, and all the threats of leaving from both of them, Dom would have thought he wouldn't be so worked up when it actually happened; that it would have prepared him for something like this. But it still stung so much that it hurt, because he knew deep down that Elijah wouldn't have just left unless something was seriously wrong.
The line was silent for a minute, and Dom let one, two, three tears roll down his cheek before Billy spoke again. "Have you talked to Orlando yet?" His voice didn't have panic in it so much as concern, now. And Dominic furrowed his brow.
"No, why? Would he know something?" He heard a click, and the line buzzed. Billy had hung up on him. "Billy!" Dom threw the phone at the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. He couldn't care less as he put his head in his hands. Too much had been happening in too little a time.
He didn't remember how long he sat there, staring at the darkness captured behind his fingers, only that when he lifted his head again, the windows were foggy and rain-streaked. Dominic sniffed and stood up, laughing bitterly to himself over how poorly he had buttoned up his shirt, and then slammed down the window. He hadn't even heard it start raining. Just like he hadn't heard Elijah leaving.
Have you talked to Orlando yet? Dom looked at where the phone lay on the hardwood, tiny pieces of plaster littering the floor around it, and picked it up. It did nothing when he pushed the on button twice, and he nearly threw it again in frustration.
"Jesus Christ…" All he wanted to do was to go back into his room, close his eyes, and then wake up to find that this was some sort of a bad dream. That Elijah was next to him and that they were fighting again, or having sex again. Anything for him to be there to hold and love and... and...
Why was he just sitting here? Billy's first suspicions may have held some truth. Maybe Elijah was hurt, or lost, or... Have you talked to Orlando yet? Or maybe he was having a fight with Bloom right now, or just fucking Bloom now. Dominic didn't want to think anything of Billy's words, but it was all he could do to keep himself from remembering that Elijah was, as a matter of fact, not in the next room ready to comfort him. So he thought, and he thought hard.
He looked around, and saw a package of Elijah's cigarettes lying on top the bookcase. He stretched onto his toes and pulled them down.
Dom had never been one to smoke. But, with all that was happening, he wanted one so badly now. He didn't even remember lighting it. All he knew was that he crawled onto the couch and lay there, staring at the black screen of the television smoking one of Elijah's cigarettes, thinking, until it was just a long stick of ash. And even then, he didn't really fall asleep. He just stopped thinking for awhile, and had dreams that twisted into nightmares. And he cried.
Have you talked to Orlando yet?
**
The television in the corner blared things that really didn't matter. News from a country he's honestly never heard of, and commercials for a hair product he'd never use. And the longer Dom sat there, the more he knew that he had to get up and do something to occupy his morning better than rotting his brain.
He flicked off the telly, and picked up his phone from his lap again. It was still warm from the call three minutes ago.
Ring. Dominic cradled his cell against his ear with one hand and held his coffee mug gingerly with the other. The coffee, black, had gone cold long ago as he sat there, calling everyone he knew... except Orlando.
There was something physiological about not calling the person he had been wanting to. Perhaps if he avoided it long enough, Elijah would magically come home and everything would be good again. They would fight, and things would be good. Ring.
Elijah had been the first he had called, naturally. And Dom had found himself letting off a string of highly Americanized curses and the lid snapped closed far harder than he had wanted to when he found Lij's phone turned off. And for the next hour and a half, when he had called Elijah between other friends, the same result.
Ring.
Viggo's answering machine came on, and Dom clicked his phone shut. He didn't actually have anything planned to say when, and if, he got a hold of anyone; it was all just a distraction from the truth.
He finally took a drink from his mug, and despite its mellow, revolting taste, he swallowed. Perhaps this coffee symbolized his life with Elijah; or perhaps it may start raining ducks down out in the streets any moment. Dominic Monaghan was to philosophical as Elijah Wood was to orderly.
Elijah.
He wondered for a moment how he had managed to sleep at all last night. He wondered how he had managed to contain himself within the walls of his apartment, within his own personal prison. And he managed to sigh a deep sigh and chuckle to himself.
Dom stared at the phone in his hand for a moment. It was amazing that he had remained sane this long and had restrained himself from running out to find Elijah. But then again, maybe that's what every other person would have done. Maybe he should stop hiding behind his worries and call.
He stood up to get more coffee, leaving his phone behind on the couch cushion.
**
"Hello, this is Orlando, and I'm not in. Leave your name and nu-" Dom turned off his phone again. God damn, why is no one home today? It was another beautiful night outside, but Dominic didn't see it at all. Now that he had finally worked up the nerve to call, the bugger wasn't fucking there, and so he only saw his own stupidity.
He was stupid for not calling sooner, and stupid for not noticing if there were warning signs for Elijah to leave like that. And it pissed him off royally.
Dom had paid a bit more for his cell phone, so instead of throwing it, he only shoved it into his nightstand drawer and pouted angrily on the edge of his bed, like a small child might. Dominic the three-year-old, wanting candy. Elijah the peppermint stick. Heh.
Thinking of Elijah, however, made him stand from the bed. This was not how he should have been acting at all. If Elijah wanted to fuck Bloom, then Elijah could just fucking go ahead and fuck fucking Bloom. Fuckity fuck. He had better things to be doing then moping around his apartment waiting for him. Dominic glowed with vivacity.
He was a movie star. He could go anywhere he wanted, be with anyone he wanted, and do anything he damn well pleased, Elijah by his side or not.
Dom looked over to the spot by the door where his folded clothing still lay, as if mocking him. His favorite jeans were in that stack. Stop being a wuss. Maybe this was why Lij left...
He got the image of Elijah again. Of Elijah on the bed before him, spread out and erect, clothed and kept warm only by the flickering florescent light hanging over their bed. And he was moaning, and Dom could feel himself getting hard just picturing it. Dom wanted nothing more then to go down on his cock, to lick and suck, see if he was only peppermint in his dreams or not, because he had forgotten Elijah's taste.
Of course, when he lifted his eyelids again, Elijah disappeared and all that was left was the irritating, glinting light and the imaginary taste of peppermint lingering on his tongue that he so wanted to be real. Dominic sighed again and picked his jeans out of the pile. There were creases at the knees. He honestly couldn't have cared less.
Pants fastened, shirt changed, socks found strewn over the top of the mirror and shoes located from where they had been stuffed under the bed. Dom wasn't sure if he should have showered or not; he wasn't sure if he cared or not. His keys were in the bowl on the kitchen table, just as they always were, and a light jacket was pulled from the closet by the door.
And he briefly thought about slipping his phone into his pocket, just incase Elijah decided to call, but decided against it. He was going out to forget Elijah anyway, so why wait up for him, and why care about him?
But he did care about Elijah. That was the clincher about his whole chimera he was living in at the moment. Dom did hurt over the fact that Elijah was gone, and Dom did only want to either forget he had ever lived, or forget that Elijah had ever returned his feelings of affection.
The night air was soft and calm, only the slight brush of car exhaust lingering over the clear scent of the ocean. No clouds blemished the ebony sky, but there were no stars, either. Just the black of night and the feeling of being small and alone that Dom knew all too well.
His keys in his pocket made a rhythm to Dom's steps as they knocked against his cell phone, which was there only in an emergency, he had assured himself. There would be no more calling Orlando, no more wondering why Elijah had his phone off. Perhaps Orlando really was just out somewhere, and Elijah was out of batteries. And maybe Elijah was hurt along the roadside somewhere, reaching for his dead phone, wanting to call Dom one more time before he was in the same state.
And maybe Dominic wouldn't believe the bullshit he was telling himself any longer, and would just go out and have some fucking fun.
**
The house was uneasily quiet. And as Dom let himself back in, the first blotches of sunlight filtering over the horizon to make him greet the goddamn day, he realized that he was grateful. With the amount of alcohol sloshing around in his system now, he doubted he could have dealt with a pin drop.
Dominic admitted it, he had drunken a little too much in a little too short of time. He was completely smashed, and having a hard time maneuvering his way around furniture. There was no memory of how he got home, or of where he had been or why he had done it all alone, only a hollow hole in his heart that he had tried filling.
He didn't even remember that Elijah's car should not have been parked in front of the flat, or that the bedroom light had been flicked off when he had left.
So it wasn't a surprise to him to find Elijah sprawled out on the bed, his clothing still on and his eyes closed. Dom simply climbed into bed next to him and let his eyes flutter shut in a drunken dance, mixed words that meant nothing at all waltzing through his head.
**
Three words ran through Dominic's mind as he woke up, and then out his mouth when he opened his eyes. It was a little from his hangover, a little from seeing Elijah curled up peacefully in his arms. "Holy Fucking Hell."
The noise Elijah made as he nuzzled into Dom's side would have been cute if he hadn't been pushed forcefully away and woken up. He sat there, blinking his eyes for a moment, until he licked his lips. "Dommie, what's wrong?" Dominic didn't have the will to laugh, even though that's what every fiber in him felt like doing.
"What do you mean, what's wrong, Elijah? You left two days ago, no note, and no anything but your god damn CD bookcase and my folded clothing!" And as Dom shouted at the top of his lungs, he realized that, just perhaps, he should stop holding Elijah so tightly and get up. He did no such thing. "You, King Wanker of the World, just up and left! I was-" Worried sick. "So sure that you would call, but of course not! Too busy with Bloom to ring, were you?"
"Alright, Dom, calm down." Elijah had the hurt look in his eyes again, the one that Dom detested but would make no motions over now. "I left, and I'm sorry. I didn't call, and I'm sorry. But what the hell is this about Orlando?"
Dominic sat there, staring up at the ceiling, still holding Lij tight, for a minute that seemed like an hour. "You know perfectly well what this is about when I ask about Orlando!" Head swiveled to face the boy next to him, and he finally pulled himself away. "Billy said th-"
"Don't, Dom. Don't bring that up, because it doesn't matter."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"I… I was with Orlando once." The quiet that filled the room could have shattered the pin before it dropped. "But not yesterday. Not then. God, it was years ago. Back, way back, when we first started shooting. Before we even existed."
"I've existed on Earth a hell of a lot longer than you have, may I remind you." Dom bit his bottom lip and crossed his arms over his chest, half to show false anger and half to conceal real pain.
"What? No, I mean the two of us. Together. You know..." Elijah let out a tiny giggle, and Dom looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Having sex. And Billy knew about that then."
"Billy said that you were with Orlando now."
"Billy would say anything to break us up." Dom couldn't help but roll back over to face Elijah after that comment. The look in Lij's eyes was too striking to be anything but real. And Dom didn't want to know why the comment struck him like it did. "But anyway, that's got nothing to do with where I went. I was visiting my mother, Dommie. She… she had a stroke last night."
Dom said nothing, and Elijah continued, simply to break the tension between them. "I went out there to be with her, and I left as soon as I could. That's why I had no time to leave a note. My cell batteries were dead, and I left my charger here, so that was out too. I'm so sorry, Dom. I… I wasn't with Bloom. I'll give you that much."
"My clothes. Why the hell did you fold my clothes?" Dominic wanted to reach out and touch Elijah again, to wrap his arms around him tight and suffocate the past two days in that embrace, but he did no such thing.
"I was folding them when I got the call, actually. I couldn't sleep, and was looking for something to do. And you keep this place so clean, normally, that seeing that shirt and pants thrown about made me feel bad. I was just trying to be helpful, and in the process, I got the call. God, I'm so sorry. Honest. Swear on everything I could."
"No, I should be the one sorry. I jumped to conclusions I shouldn't have." Only now did he hug Lij again, kissed his cheek again and tasted the tears that trailed down his cheek again. "I just thought-"
"Billy jumps to conclusions, not you." Elijah nuzzled again, and they stayed like that until the soft sounds of snoring came from the boy in Dom's arms and Dom didn't know wither he wanted to cry or not. Billy jumps to conclusions. He keeps saying that.
It wasn't that Dominic didn't trust Elijah. He knew well enough that Lij wouldn't have lied about his mother like that. Just as the way that Elijah had looked as he said it, the way that his eyes were crushed and nearly midnight in the faint light had bared his soul. He wasn't lying, though maybe he wasn't telling the truth, either. There had been something about the way the words came. Something he didn't believe. This is Elijah fucking Wood, and this was his god damned mother. He wouldn't lie!
But he also knew that Billy wouldn't lie, either, even if he was just brining up the past. Billy knew that with those words, Dom would have worried and gotten angry. Perhaps Elijah was telling even more of the truth that Billy wanted to break them apart and in pieces, though Dom saw no reason why.
**
"Pass the pancakes." Elijah was hidden behind his newspaper, the trails of smoke from his cigarette swirling slowly above his head, and Dom stuck his tongue out at him as he nudged the plate of pancakes towards him.
The two of them had gotten up at about three that afternoon, and were now eating pancakes for fucking dinner while Elijah smoked and Dom thought. And neither found anything about it odd in the least.
"You know, most people would say please." Dom twirled his fork on his plate, watching it trace patterns in the syrup, and then groaned. The day was completely gone, and had gotten nothing accomplished more than making the damn pancakes and having sex with Elijah twice. So, actually, it wasn't all that bad.
"I'm not most people."
"No, you certainly aren't. Because if you were, I could say 'I fuck most people' and you might get mad." Elijah looked at him over the top of his paper.
"You're not funny, Monaghan." But Elijah was laughing anyway.
"Any plans for today that I should know about?" Dom leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Or any that I shouldn't?" He winked at Elijah, who stopped laughing and transferred a pancake from the pile to his own plate.
There was a silence that encroached on awkward; Elijah folded his paper up and set it down next to his coffee mug, cigarette jutting out from his lips, though really it was only a cylinder of ash by then. "Dom, I love you."
"I love you too, mate." Wasn't it obvious to Elijah that he loved him? Wasn't it clear, the way they had just been moaning each others names, and the way that… just the way that he had forgiven him?
Dominic made himself sound like a prick with that last thought. A complete bastard, but one who still stuck with that though all the same. He had fucking forgiven Elijah for going off to where he was, wherever that had been, and that should have made him a wonderful person. A war hero, a legend among men. But he felt like a jackass all the same, and quickly smiled off his thoughts.
"I'm gonna swing out and over to that new CD shop on the corner, you know. See if they have-"
"Elijah, if you don't own it, they won't have it. Jesus, that bookcase is enormous, and I know that those are only your favorites. Obsessions, much?" Dom was just taking the piss, and Lij knew it; how could he not? Dom did it every day, while wrapped up in the sheets and Elijah's arms each morning, teasing and taunting about the damn CDs. So he frowned when Elijah dropped his cigarette butt into his coffee mug and stood up, chair legs scraping from the sudden push backwards.
"Yeah, yeah. But I'll be out for awhile anyway, mister cheerful." A dry look came about Elijah as he carried his plates past Dom into the kitchen, a far away look, but Dom didn't see; he had taken to looking over the crossword on Elijah's paper. It was a small one, with easy words, and he would have done it, had there not been a crash of china from the entry.
He bound up, mind racing. Elijah's hurt, Elijah's dead, Elijah's ha- He paused, mid-thought and mid breath as he stood on the threshold between the dining room and the hall.
Billy, standing in the front entrance, looked just as surprised as Dom felt and Elijah seemed. "Erm... Heya guys."
**