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fellowshippers2004-01-20 03:43 pm
hidden-features.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-01-20 03:43 pm
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Title: Anywhere But In Between
Author: Paige (hidden_features)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Dominic feels left out and lonely, tired of the half exsistance he's been leading. Elijah feels much differently.
Pairing: Domlijah, Elijah/OFC
Feedback: Loved, but only if you have the time.
Disclaimer: I lie, and know neither Dominic Monaghan or Elijah Wood.
Author's Notes: Sort of a new writing style for me. Experimentation is always good, right?
Anywhere But In Between
Dominic Monaghan was a very grumpy man. Over the past three-and-a-half hours, Elijah had been entertaining a female guest in the dining room, a bottle of French champagne between them and superficial laughter their glasses. She was ditzy and blond, Elijah had met her at the supermarket last week, and Dom was sulking in front of the television; a triangle trying to force itself into the circular hole of happiness.
There was nothing on television at ten-thirty on a Saturday night, but Dom kept trying to lie to himself that the programs were halfway interesting. A talk show on E!, a cartoon about a talking dog, and a racy soap opera rerun; the faster Dom clicked the search button on his remote, the more they seemed to relate to his own life.
A bit of conversation filtered in from the next room, and Dom found a show that suited his mood and hit the mute button. He watched the somber, late-night movie with a smile on the outside and listened to Elijah's date with a frown on the inside. She was talking about her dog, and then talking about the tacky tiling in the kitchen, and then about her brother, and then a million other topics that jumped from this to that so quickly that he was sure Elijah had a remote control of his own and that she was his own personal television.
He amused himself by letting his eyes wander from place to place around the room. On the bookshelf were Elijah's books. Most of them were there for show, like Best Known Works of William Shakespeare and worn copies of The Lord of the Rings books, and most were books that books Dom had never seen Elijah touch in his life. And there was a picture on the middle shelf in front of the spines of dusty books, a picture with just the four Hobbits on the last day of shooting. It was a happy picture in a black frame that had collected dust just the same as the books. Dom looked away in what might have been shame.
His fingers got bored before his mind did as he half concentrated on the images flickering over the screen. They laced together, traced circles over the words etched in ink that he sprawled over his skin in fits of boredom, rebellion, and more boredom, and they tapped out a beat to an imaginary song that might have been Elijah's conversation on his arm.
When the movie was over, he didn’t feel like bothering to find something else, and turned it off, his reflection in the black screen interesting enough. He didn't remember growing that thick stubble that wasn't yet a beard, and he wasn't sure if his hair had been that disheveled earlier when he went out to the corner store for a gallon of milk.
He wasn't cool, like Elijah, and couldn't say that he was going to get cigarettes and girls at the market; he only claimed to get milk and bread and occasionally tomato soup because that's all he really wanted. At that moment, cool Elijah was standing up from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor, and offering the girl her coat while Dom was left wanting that can of soup on the shelf next to the peanut butter.
There were three things that Dom knew about Elijah for sure, and none of them made Dom happy right then, because they certainly seemed to be making the girl happy. Elijah was smooth and charming as she prepared to leave. Dom knew her name, he just thought that if he didn't say it, or think it, she wouldn't really exist and neither would the awkward silence that would follow when Elijah came back into the room after walking her to her car.
"Sophia's a nice girl." Elijah was leaning against the doorframe, and Dom was standing up to leave and go to bed. Elijah's fingers were around one of his cool cigarettes that made him attractive to girls, the things that Dom coughed and gagged over when tempted with one, and his eyes were narrowed and drunk. "And she said you were boring."
"That's wonderful, Lij." Drunken Elijah with a cigarette must have been really hot to Sophia, because lipstick lined his neck and cheeks and Dom just wanted someone to laugh, even if it was himself. "Goodnight."
"No, wait, don't go to bed yet!" Dominic watched as Elijah dropped the cigarette to the carpet, watched the ashes collect over the beige and the fibers start to burn. Elijah stepped on it, grinding it in as if he thought their carpet had become a cement slab and that Dom wouldn't be left to clean the mess. "We can still have fun without her."
"About what? What do we have to talk about?" Dom had his hands in his pockets and Elijah had his eyes cast down to the ashes now embedded beneath him. He seemed to look past the ashes, past the floor and past everything to something funny, because he was laughing. "What's so fucking funny, Elijah?"
"We drank so much!" The tears running down Elijah's face were happy and Dom hated them for that, just like he hated Sophia and Elijah's cigarettes and the fact that he had fucked up his life so much that he was lost while being unfortunately found.
There were no strung-up syllables as Dom turned and stalked to his bed, ready to sleep and to maybe cry in his sleep over how wasted his life was, because no one could see his dreams and accuse him of being a figure in the media that actually had feelings. Elijah laughed, and Dom stripped and crawled under the blankets and the heat and only hearing Sophia's voice criticizing the tiling running through his head.
He knew he wasn't asleep yet when his door opened and Elijah poked his head through the crack. The light from the living room made a narrow slit on the bed, covering the lump that was Dom up to his thighs, illuminating the blanket yellow instead of the white Dom took comfort in. "Dommie?"
Dom held his breath and held onto the notion that Elijah would leave and wake up sober and with a hangover that Dom could laugh at. But instead there were sounds of him coming on his toes into the room, and the click of the door behind him, and the creaking of the springs as he sat on the bed.
There was the longest pause of silence, followed by the longest sigh. Dom half-hoped that Elijah would leave again, just like he half-hoped that he got a call from his agent with good news about a script, and half-hoped that he could be happy, and fully-hoped that Sophia would crash and burn on her way home even though it was wrong. Wrong like the notion that Elijah was gone after the sigh ended and the silence began again.
"Dommie, I'm in love." Dom was just going to let Elijah talk and wear himself out, then. "Exactly what I look for. Smart and witty, hair I could run my hands through, and a smile like summer." This was killing Dom on the inside, because on the outside, he was sleeping, his breath regulated and steady. "But I can't tell anyone. It's a secret, alright?"
The springs were flexed again as Elijah lay down on his side next to Dom, over the blankets and with a hand over Dom's waist. "A sleepy little secret for the two of us to share, and no one has to know." Dom could hear Elijah smiling as he pressed his face into the blanket over Dom's back, breathing soft and hot and sweet and full of alcohol. It was drawing him into a sleep, luring him into a place where dreams run rampant with thoughts that shouldn't happen. "No one has to know that I love you."
Dom found himself wide awake again, and found Elijah blissfully asleep against him.
* * *
Author: Paige (hidden_features)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Dominic feels left out and lonely, tired of the half exsistance he's been leading. Elijah feels much differently.
Pairing: Domlijah, Elijah/OFC
Feedback: Loved, but only if you have the time.
Disclaimer: I lie, and know neither Dominic Monaghan or Elijah Wood.
Author's Notes: Sort of a new writing style for me. Experimentation is always good, right?
Anywhere But In Between
Dominic Monaghan was a very grumpy man. Over the past three-and-a-half hours, Elijah had been entertaining a female guest in the dining room, a bottle of French champagne between them and superficial laughter their glasses. She was ditzy and blond, Elijah had met her at the supermarket last week, and Dom was sulking in front of the television; a triangle trying to force itself into the circular hole of happiness.
There was nothing on television at ten-thirty on a Saturday night, but Dom kept trying to lie to himself that the programs were halfway interesting. A talk show on E!, a cartoon about a talking dog, and a racy soap opera rerun; the faster Dom clicked the search button on his remote, the more they seemed to relate to his own life.
A bit of conversation filtered in from the next room, and Dom found a show that suited his mood and hit the mute button. He watched the somber, late-night movie with a smile on the outside and listened to Elijah's date with a frown on the inside. She was talking about her dog, and then talking about the tacky tiling in the kitchen, and then about her brother, and then a million other topics that jumped from this to that so quickly that he was sure Elijah had a remote control of his own and that she was his own personal television.
He amused himself by letting his eyes wander from place to place around the room. On the bookshelf were Elijah's books. Most of them were there for show, like Best Known Works of William Shakespeare and worn copies of The Lord of the Rings books, and most were books that books Dom had never seen Elijah touch in his life. And there was a picture on the middle shelf in front of the spines of dusty books, a picture with just the four Hobbits on the last day of shooting. It was a happy picture in a black frame that had collected dust just the same as the books. Dom looked away in what might have been shame.
His fingers got bored before his mind did as he half concentrated on the images flickering over the screen. They laced together, traced circles over the words etched in ink that he sprawled over his skin in fits of boredom, rebellion, and more boredom, and they tapped out a beat to an imaginary song that might have been Elijah's conversation on his arm.
When the movie was over, he didn’t feel like bothering to find something else, and turned it off, his reflection in the black screen interesting enough. He didn't remember growing that thick stubble that wasn't yet a beard, and he wasn't sure if his hair had been that disheveled earlier when he went out to the corner store for a gallon of milk.
He wasn't cool, like Elijah, and couldn't say that he was going to get cigarettes and girls at the market; he only claimed to get milk and bread and occasionally tomato soup because that's all he really wanted. At that moment, cool Elijah was standing up from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor, and offering the girl her coat while Dom was left wanting that can of soup on the shelf next to the peanut butter.
There were three things that Dom knew about Elijah for sure, and none of them made Dom happy right then, because they certainly seemed to be making the girl happy. Elijah was smooth and charming as she prepared to leave. Dom knew her name, he just thought that if he didn't say it, or think it, she wouldn't really exist and neither would the awkward silence that would follow when Elijah came back into the room after walking her to her car.
"Sophia's a nice girl." Elijah was leaning against the doorframe, and Dom was standing up to leave and go to bed. Elijah's fingers were around one of his cool cigarettes that made him attractive to girls, the things that Dom coughed and gagged over when tempted with one, and his eyes were narrowed and drunk. "And she said you were boring."
"That's wonderful, Lij." Drunken Elijah with a cigarette must have been really hot to Sophia, because lipstick lined his neck and cheeks and Dom just wanted someone to laugh, even if it was himself. "Goodnight."
"No, wait, don't go to bed yet!" Dominic watched as Elijah dropped the cigarette to the carpet, watched the ashes collect over the beige and the fibers start to burn. Elijah stepped on it, grinding it in as if he thought their carpet had become a cement slab and that Dom wouldn't be left to clean the mess. "We can still have fun without her."
"About what? What do we have to talk about?" Dom had his hands in his pockets and Elijah had his eyes cast down to the ashes now embedded beneath him. He seemed to look past the ashes, past the floor and past everything to something funny, because he was laughing. "What's so fucking funny, Elijah?"
"We drank so much!" The tears running down Elijah's face were happy and Dom hated them for that, just like he hated Sophia and Elijah's cigarettes and the fact that he had fucked up his life so much that he was lost while being unfortunately found.
There were no strung-up syllables as Dom turned and stalked to his bed, ready to sleep and to maybe cry in his sleep over how wasted his life was, because no one could see his dreams and accuse him of being a figure in the media that actually had feelings. Elijah laughed, and Dom stripped and crawled under the blankets and the heat and only hearing Sophia's voice criticizing the tiling running through his head.
He knew he wasn't asleep yet when his door opened and Elijah poked his head through the crack. The light from the living room made a narrow slit on the bed, covering the lump that was Dom up to his thighs, illuminating the blanket yellow instead of the white Dom took comfort in. "Dommie?"
Dom held his breath and held onto the notion that Elijah would leave and wake up sober and with a hangover that Dom could laugh at. But instead there were sounds of him coming on his toes into the room, and the click of the door behind him, and the creaking of the springs as he sat on the bed.
There was the longest pause of silence, followed by the longest sigh. Dom half-hoped that Elijah would leave again, just like he half-hoped that he got a call from his agent with good news about a script, and half-hoped that he could be happy, and fully-hoped that Sophia would crash and burn on her way home even though it was wrong. Wrong like the notion that Elijah was gone after the sigh ended and the silence began again.
"Dommie, I'm in love." Dom was just going to let Elijah talk and wear himself out, then. "Exactly what I look for. Smart and witty, hair I could run my hands through, and a smile like summer." This was killing Dom on the inside, because on the outside, he was sleeping, his breath regulated and steady. "But I can't tell anyone. It's a secret, alright?"
The springs were flexed again as Elijah lay down on his side next to Dom, over the blankets and with a hand over Dom's waist. "A sleepy little secret for the two of us to share, and no one has to know." Dom could hear Elijah smiling as he pressed his face into the blanket over Dom's back, breathing soft and hot and sweet and full of alcohol. It was drawing him into a sleep, luring him into a place where dreams run rampant with thoughts that shouldn't happen. "No one has to know that I love you."
Dom found himself wide awake again, and found Elijah blissfully asleep against him.
* * *