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fellowshippers2004-01-30 02:49 am
green-queen.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-01-30 02:49 am
Villainy
Title: Villainy
Pairing: Dominic Monaghan/Michael Rosenbaum
Rating:R
Summary: Dom learns to share
Disclaimer: I am not connected to these people. I made this stuff up. In fact, since it's set in the future between two people I doubt have even met, it would be highly unwise to think it remotely truthful. Except maybe the part about how the hobbits had to wear feet.
Author's Notes: Fulfilled two challenges at one time. angelnurse wanted Michael/Dom, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
contrelamontre wanted a sacrifice. Here it is, all written in about 50 minutes.
It felt cheap to share a convention with a TV show, and a rather second-rate one at that. Real science fiction wasn't supposed to be about teenaged angst. He's seen a few episodes of this show--Smalltown or something, the Superboy show, Elijah was the one that knew about comics--and he'd been supremely unimpressed. It really didn't deserve to hang on the coattails of Lord of the Rings. Bad writing, mediocre directing and dodgy actors with perfect smiles--well, all but one. Lex Luthor had caught his eye. He knew about Lex Luthor, of course, he wasn't completely ignorant when it came to the most famous superhero in history. In the comics he was a villain, in the most basic sense. In this kids' show, however he was charming, enigmatic, conflicted. Fascinating, and goddamned sexy.
So when Michael Rosenbaum burst through the doors backstage, tanned and with a short-cropped layer of fuzz covering his head, Dom had to do a double-take. It was the swagger in the walk that tipped him off, and he was sent a lopsided and mysterious grin worthy of Lex for his open-mouthed stare. He snapped his jaw shut and turned back to Sean, who was rambling on about his latest film project, and how he if he was going to be working with Orlando anyway, would Dominic mind coming in for a few scenes, he was perfect for the part. Dom smiled at Sean and rubbed his head.
"Anything for a mate, Astin," he said, and Sean hugged him, thanked him enthusiastically. When Dom looked up, Michael was already being called on stage.
---------------------------------------------
Dom glanced at the corner of the convention hall sacrificed to Smallville briefly, not wanting Sean to notice. He saw the fans disippate, saw Michael mumble something to his publicist and sneak off, excusing himself. Looking at the line ahead of him, Dom sighed. No chance of any kind of respite, even for a moment.
Then something rather unexpected happened. One of the girls in the line shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, while another muffled a squeal and produced a slip of a forbidden camera from somewhere in her tiny purse. He felt a presence behind him, heard a voice in his ear.
"Hi Sean. And Dominic Monaghan, right?" said a voice familiar to Dom from a few episodes of a terrible American program he'd never admit to watching. He made sure his turn was slow and deliberate, so that no shock was apparent in his face or movement.
"Hey, Mike! Good to see you," Sean said beaming and grabbing one of Michael's hands so enthusiastically that he caught the edge of his sleeve as well, accidentally pulling the shirt down to reveal an inch or so of hairy chest. Michael's smile was sincere; not as sincere as Sean's, but then few were. "Your show's going well, I love to catch it when I'm in town," Sean babbled. Dom rolled his eyes, both at Sean and the memories of Sean and Elijah in New Zealand, ranting about the latest comics while the makeup team swarmed around them like bees and Dom and Billy sent each other knowing looks. For a moment, a pang of homesickness tugged at Dom's chest, but then a broad warm hand was on his shoulder.
"Nice to meet you," said Michael in a low rumble, extending a hand. Dom took it and smiled back, unsure of what to say.
"You too. I've seen your show," he replied uncertainly, and Michael chuckled.
"You hate it."
"Well. You're pretty good," Dom consented. Michael chuckled and nodded appreciatively, then leaned down to pose for a couple of photos, his head behind Dom's. Dom made one of his camera expressions, did something with his hands. He heard Sean tell Michael about a theory he had about how Smallville was like Lord of the Rings that made him laugh, and a month later he'd look at that photo, of Sean and Michael both smiling at him while he laughed, and become wistful all over again.
--------------------------------------
The evening speeches had gone well, Dom thought, and when Christine had come to meet Sean he'd promised to call soon about the role, and to come visit Ali, who asked about her uncles all the time. He made a mental note to tell Lij about it next time he called, then thought better of it and made a more memorable note of it in dark red ink on his hand. When he balled his fist the lines of his hand made cracks in the ink, and it looked like a message marked in blood. He was vaguely aware of a shape moving towards him in the mirror, but he ignored it.
"Ali visit, comic thing, tell--Lighe?" Michael said, pronouncing the last word wrong. For some reason, it didn't surprise Dom at all that he was there.
"Lij," he corrected as Michael sat in the chair in front of him.
"Good con," Michael said conversationally. Dom nodded, solemn, noting the dark look in Michael's eyes and the quick sweep of his reclining figure. Michael's eyes lingered for a moment on Dom's hand, glinting with rings and covered in large loopy writing, and then on his crotch. Dom purposefully shifted a little, and when Michael looked up Dom met his eyes.
"Oh yeah, one of the best. Big turnout," he replied, his voice thick with want, and he leaned forward just a little, his tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip.
"Shame Tom couldn't be here. Though I don't think he could take one more girl asking about the real relationship -between -Clark and..." the rest of the sentence dropped as Dom leant into Michael, leaning so close that their noses almost touch and their breath mingled. Michael had the faintest outline of pale pink lipstick on his cheek where some lucky fan had been allowed to kiss him. Dom slid forward in his chair enough to breathe on it. Slowly, deliberately, his tongue slipped between his lips and he licked it, feeling rouch stubble under his tongue. Michael's breath hitched, and he felt a hand glide under his shirt, as confident and easy as his own, which was simultaneously alarming and welcome. Most celebrities these days, they wanted to ask him questions before they fucked him, wanted to know he wouldn't tell anyone. He grinned. Moving forward he hooked his teeth into Michael's earlobe. Without letting his bite falter he pulled Michael up off the chair, forcing him back onto the dressing table. Michael leaned back automatically and the top of Dom's head hit the mirror, the cold seeming to slide right down his back like ice. He shivered.
Michael had made quick work with Dom's shirt and was now going for the zipper on his torn jeans. Dom grabbed his hands and forced them back onto the mirror. Michael's eyes snapped open and for a moment Dom's resolve wavered. Michael grinned, though, and leaned forward to attack Dom's mouth, enveloping the shorter man's tongue, looping it with his own. Dom caught Michael's lower lip with his teeth. Slid his hands down, lower, across the neck, under the shirt, over the hair on his chest, poppin the buttons one-by-one-by-one. He undid Michael's fly with his mouth, grabbed his ass and pulled the jeans and boxers off in one swift move, then spat on his hand and pushed his mouth back against Michael's. He could hear the dull thud of Michael's head hitting the glass, heard Michael's groan, felt Michael's cock twitch against his denim-clad thigh.
Dom smiled into Michael's mouth and allowed everything to melt away except for the feeling of Michael's tongue pushing back against his own, the slick feel of his saliva against Michael's hot skin beneath his palm. The kiss was a power play; first Dom was pushing, biting, licking, then Michael's tongue would swirl against the roof of Dom's mouth and suddenly he was spinning out of control.
He felt Michael's domination slip and disappear into hazy, panting breaths, and had the sense to move his leg before Michael came. Michael pulled away from the kiss, still breathing heavily, then allowed his head to flop onto Dom's shoulder. Dom grinned at himself in the mirror, his face flushed, lips swollen. Then he watched his own face contort with lust as he felt a firm hand inside his jeans. Michael's free hand attached itself firmly to his under the waistband of his jockeys, on his ass, molding the flesh and forcing Dom's body to press up against his, forced Dom's straining erection further into his hand. He could feel Micheals' grin against his neck before the taller man sunk in his teeth, making Dom groan and strain against him.
"Don't think you've won yet, hobbit," Michael growled into his ear, removing his other hand from Dom's ass to wrap around his balls, and Dom lost any semblance of control he had left as the warmth of his own ejaculation spread through his clothes. Michael kissed him hard, and Dom kissed back with equal force as he decided that he definitely needed to go to shared conventions more often.
Green Queen
Pairing: Dominic Monaghan/Michael Rosenbaum
Rating:R
Summary: Dom learns to share
Disclaimer: I am not connected to these people. I made this stuff up. In fact, since it's set in the future between two people I doubt have even met, it would be highly unwise to think it remotely truthful. Except maybe the part about how the hobbits had to wear feet.
Author's Notes: Fulfilled two challenges at one time. angelnurse wanted Michael/Dom, and
contrelamontre wanted a sacrifice. Here it is, all written in about 50 minutes.It felt cheap to share a convention with a TV show, and a rather second-rate one at that. Real science fiction wasn't supposed to be about teenaged angst. He's seen a few episodes of this show--Smalltown or something, the Superboy show, Elijah was the one that knew about comics--and he'd been supremely unimpressed. It really didn't deserve to hang on the coattails of Lord of the Rings. Bad writing, mediocre directing and dodgy actors with perfect smiles--well, all but one. Lex Luthor had caught his eye. He knew about Lex Luthor, of course, he wasn't completely ignorant when it came to the most famous superhero in history. In the comics he was a villain, in the most basic sense. In this kids' show, however he was charming, enigmatic, conflicted. Fascinating, and goddamned sexy.
So when Michael Rosenbaum burst through the doors backstage, tanned and with a short-cropped layer of fuzz covering his head, Dom had to do a double-take. It was the swagger in the walk that tipped him off, and he was sent a lopsided and mysterious grin worthy of Lex for his open-mouthed stare. He snapped his jaw shut and turned back to Sean, who was rambling on about his latest film project, and how he if he was going to be working with Orlando anyway, would Dominic mind coming in for a few scenes, he was perfect for the part. Dom smiled at Sean and rubbed his head.
"Anything for a mate, Astin," he said, and Sean hugged him, thanked him enthusiastically. When Dom looked up, Michael was already being called on stage.
---------------------------------------------
Dom glanced at the corner of the convention hall sacrificed to Smallville briefly, not wanting Sean to notice. He saw the fans disippate, saw Michael mumble something to his publicist and sneak off, excusing himself. Looking at the line ahead of him, Dom sighed. No chance of any kind of respite, even for a moment.
Then something rather unexpected happened. One of the girls in the line shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, while another muffled a squeal and produced a slip of a forbidden camera from somewhere in her tiny purse. He felt a presence behind him, heard a voice in his ear.
"Hi Sean. And Dominic Monaghan, right?" said a voice familiar to Dom from a few episodes of a terrible American program he'd never admit to watching. He made sure his turn was slow and deliberate, so that no shock was apparent in his face or movement.
"Hey, Mike! Good to see you," Sean said beaming and grabbing one of Michael's hands so enthusiastically that he caught the edge of his sleeve as well, accidentally pulling the shirt down to reveal an inch or so of hairy chest. Michael's smile was sincere; not as sincere as Sean's, but then few were. "Your show's going well, I love to catch it when I'm in town," Sean babbled. Dom rolled his eyes, both at Sean and the memories of Sean and Elijah in New Zealand, ranting about the latest comics while the makeup team swarmed around them like bees and Dom and Billy sent each other knowing looks. For a moment, a pang of homesickness tugged at Dom's chest, but then a broad warm hand was on his shoulder.
"Nice to meet you," said Michael in a low rumble, extending a hand. Dom took it and smiled back, unsure of what to say.
"You too. I've seen your show," he replied uncertainly, and Michael chuckled.
"You hate it."
"Well. You're pretty good," Dom consented. Michael chuckled and nodded appreciatively, then leaned down to pose for a couple of photos, his head behind Dom's. Dom made one of his camera expressions, did something with his hands. He heard Sean tell Michael about a theory he had about how Smallville was like Lord of the Rings that made him laugh, and a month later he'd look at that photo, of Sean and Michael both smiling at him while he laughed, and become wistful all over again.
--------------------------------------
The evening speeches had gone well, Dom thought, and when Christine had come to meet Sean he'd promised to call soon about the role, and to come visit Ali, who asked about her uncles all the time. He made a mental note to tell Lij about it next time he called, then thought better of it and made a more memorable note of it in dark red ink on his hand. When he balled his fist the lines of his hand made cracks in the ink, and it looked like a message marked in blood. He was vaguely aware of a shape moving towards him in the mirror, but he ignored it.
"Ali visit, comic thing, tell--Lighe?" Michael said, pronouncing the last word wrong. For some reason, it didn't surprise Dom at all that he was there.
"Lij," he corrected as Michael sat in the chair in front of him.
"Good con," Michael said conversationally. Dom nodded, solemn, noting the dark look in Michael's eyes and the quick sweep of his reclining figure. Michael's eyes lingered for a moment on Dom's hand, glinting with rings and covered in large loopy writing, and then on his crotch. Dom purposefully shifted a little, and when Michael looked up Dom met his eyes.
"Oh yeah, one of the best. Big turnout," he replied, his voice thick with want, and he leaned forward just a little, his tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip.
"Shame Tom couldn't be here. Though I don't think he could take one more girl asking about the real relationship -between -Clark and..." the rest of the sentence dropped as Dom leant into Michael, leaning so close that their noses almost touch and their breath mingled. Michael had the faintest outline of pale pink lipstick on his cheek where some lucky fan had been allowed to kiss him. Dom slid forward in his chair enough to breathe on it. Slowly, deliberately, his tongue slipped between his lips and he licked it, feeling rouch stubble under his tongue. Michael's breath hitched, and he felt a hand glide under his shirt, as confident and easy as his own, which was simultaneously alarming and welcome. Most celebrities these days, they wanted to ask him questions before they fucked him, wanted to know he wouldn't tell anyone. He grinned. Moving forward he hooked his teeth into Michael's earlobe. Without letting his bite falter he pulled Michael up off the chair, forcing him back onto the dressing table. Michael leaned back automatically and the top of Dom's head hit the mirror, the cold seeming to slide right down his back like ice. He shivered.
Michael had made quick work with Dom's shirt and was now going for the zipper on his torn jeans. Dom grabbed his hands and forced them back onto the mirror. Michael's eyes snapped open and for a moment Dom's resolve wavered. Michael grinned, though, and leaned forward to attack Dom's mouth, enveloping the shorter man's tongue, looping it with his own. Dom caught Michael's lower lip with his teeth. Slid his hands down, lower, across the neck, under the shirt, over the hair on his chest, poppin the buttons one-by-one-by-one. He undid Michael's fly with his mouth, grabbed his ass and pulled the jeans and boxers off in one swift move, then spat on his hand and pushed his mouth back against Michael's. He could hear the dull thud of Michael's head hitting the glass, heard Michael's groan, felt Michael's cock twitch against his denim-clad thigh.
Dom smiled into Michael's mouth and allowed everything to melt away except for the feeling of Michael's tongue pushing back against his own, the slick feel of his saliva against Michael's hot skin beneath his palm. The kiss was a power play; first Dom was pushing, biting, licking, then Michael's tongue would swirl against the roof of Dom's mouth and suddenly he was spinning out of control.
He felt Michael's domination slip and disappear into hazy, panting breaths, and had the sense to move his leg before Michael came. Michael pulled away from the kiss, still breathing heavily, then allowed his head to flop onto Dom's shoulder. Dom grinned at himself in the mirror, his face flushed, lips swollen. Then he watched his own face contort with lust as he felt a firm hand inside his jeans. Michael's free hand attached itself firmly to his under the waistband of his jockeys, on his ass, molding the flesh and forcing Dom's body to press up against his, forced Dom's straining erection further into his hand. He could feel Micheals' grin against his neck before the taller man sunk in his teeth, making Dom groan and strain against him.
"Don't think you've won yet, hobbit," Michael growled into his ear, removing his other hand from Dom's ass to wrap around his balls, and Dom lost any semblance of control he had left as the warmth of his own ejaculation spread through his clothes. Michael kissed him hard, and Dom kissed back with equal force as he decided that he definitely needed to go to shared conventions more often.
Green Queen