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fellowshippers2004-02-18 04:58 am
blankverses.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-02-18 04:58 am
Quoi? (1/2)
Title: Quoi? (1/2, for now at least)
Pairing: Domlijah
Rating: Hard (no pun intended, or is it?) R or NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own them, know them, or have ever touched them. If the things that are in this story have happened, then I want the video proof.
Billy and Orlando were waiting downstairs, already dressed and ready. They were going out to a club, some place that Dom had never heard of before, but that sounded quite fun, and apt to be full of liqour and glamorous, fast American women. One of the things that he liked most about American women was that they all seemed to like him -- and not simply because he was Dominic Monaghan, Movie Star Extraordinnaire. Oh no, since most of them sort of recognized him in a vague way, starting off with "were you in a class with me last semester?" or "I'm sure I met you at my great-aunt's funeral last month. A pall-bearer, perhaps?" When he gave them his name most would react with no reaction, save for the few who recognized him to begin with and who seemed to want a) nothing more than to fuck him in the bathroom b) to bear his love-children or c) watch him fuck his male friends in the bathroom before bearing his love-children. Those American women who were not of the fangirl variety just wanted to hear him talk. These birds would shag him based solely on his accent, which made pulling at the bars almost too easy, not, mind you, that he was complaining in the least.
But to get back to the matter at hand, Dominic couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was in the shower with Elijah, naked, touching in ways that he had never touched another man before. Billy, he could blame Billy for this. He wasn't sure how it was the Scot's fault, but Billy was certainly to blame.
The four had been in the park, attempting to teach Elijah how to play football like a proper bloke. Elijah hadn't picked up the skill in all their time in New Zealand, at least not to anyone's satisfaction. The poor lad still harbored some silly notions about football being a game that used hands and elbow pads and armor.
"You bloody Yank, why on God's earth would you call a game where you used your hands football, when that name had already been taken for the sport of the gods?"
"Because we did, that's why -- and don't you say anything, since without us you would have lost the war, and then where would you be?"
"Wondering why it took you so bleeding long to get there in the first place!"
"Children," Billy had interupted what had promised to be a good squabble, "can we please just play some footie, before I have to smack both of you imperialistic, colonizing wankers down to size?"
"Shove it up your kilt, Boyd," Dom had replied, delivering a solid pass to Orlando. "I declare the teams to be English versus heathen upstarts, God save the Queen."
Was that really only earlier that evening? Dom mused, running his hands gently down Elijah's back, gasping as Lij's hands traced patterns over his tender nipples with ragged fingernails. Surely it was a lifetime ago. *How the fuck did this ever happen? I hadn't thought that I liked boys --* "Ooh," he moaned as Elijah grazed a nipple with his teeth.
Needless to say, the pride of England won that football match. Billy had tried, but his American protige simply didn't have the co-ordination neccesary to make it an even fight.
"That's the last time I let you all con me into playing this," Elijah muttered, out of breath and lighting up a clove, as the four sprawled on the grass.
"You wouldn't be having those endurance problems it you'd cut back on those death sticks," Orlando teased.
"Just because you quit, you think you're such a high and mighty little prick," Elijah sighed, long familiar with the course of this argument.
" 'You don't want to sell me deathsticks,' 'I don't want to sell you deathsticks.'" Billy began.
" 'You want to go home and think about your life,'" Dom continued.
" 'I want to go home, and think about my life," Orlando finished cheerfully.
"I'm sure you wankers are quoting that wrong. And besides, there's nothing wrong with my endurance," Elijah said, taking a long drag off his clove and, as though to spite Orlando, blowing smoke in his face
"We'll see about that," Billy murmured, and Orlando laughed.
"Did I just miss something?" Dom asked.
"Nothing, nothing at all," Orlando repled too quickly.
"Jedi mind trick, Jedi mind trick," Billy added, waving his hands in Dom's face.
"Come on then, my smelly hobbits," Orlando said, boudning to his feet. "Let's get back to Elijah's and get all prettied up. We're going out on the town tonight, dammit, and I refuse to be seen with the lot of you if you're not clean and presentable."
"When are you yourself ever presentable, you pretentious little elfling?" Billy challenged.
"Always and everywhere, darling, and always utterly fabulous."
Dom's mind was reeling as Elijah worked his way down his stomach, kissing and licking every inch of him from nipple to navel. The warm spray of the shower was pounding against his back, his fingers were tracing patterns on Elijah's slick skin, and although his cock certainly was in the moment, there was a part of his brain that was still desperately trying to piece together how they had gone from seemingly nothing to (almost, nearly, hopefully soon because he was *dying*) fucking.
Billy called the shower first when they got back to Elijah's, and before anyone could challenge him he sprinted up the stairs and locked himself in. The others amused themselves by splitting a six pack, rifling through Lij's truly overwhelming cd collection, and loudly insulting Billy, his manhood, kilts, Billy in a kilt, tartan in general as a fabric choice and color arrangement, and Billy's white socks that he tended to wear while sporiting said kilts which were, in a word, skirts.
Billy emerged from the shower a few moments later, towel snapping arses with a vengence and defending Scottish pride as many men have had to do over the years by shouting loudly "It's a fucking kilt, you fucking wankers, a kilt, and not a soddin' skirt!"
Orlando went next, body checking Dominic as the shorter man tried to edge around him. Dominic proceeded to begin the next round of "annoy the bather" by speaking ill of Orlando's facial hair in Pirates, and from there the three hobbits taunted the elf on many a subject, such as his propensity for hurting himself needlessly, his sick fascination with bad haircuts, and in general how much of a twit he looked like when paired next to Johnny Depp, especially when that worthy was an eye-liner wearing Pirate captain. Orlando was actually a bit hurt about the facial hair comment, and pouted when he emerged from the shower, only to be bolstered a bit by laughing at Elijah's pseudo-sideburns.
Through some strange twist of manuevering (and perhaps it was eased, Dom mused, by the fact that both he and the blue-eye lad who was now kneeling in front on him, poised to slip warm lips around his cock, were both on their way to drunk) Dom found himself being shoved into the bathroom with Elijah, told to "hurry the fuck up, because it's getting late". The two looked at each other, grinned shyly, and began to undress.
"I'll shave, mate, while you shower," Dom began, when from out of nowhere Elijah attacked him, all lips and hot hands and need. Dom was surprised, but he couldn't have been too surprised because he immediately responsed by opening his mouth to kiss back, harder, deeper, until he felt as though all of his being was melding with Elijah's and they were floating together in the void.
He let Elijah strip him, watching as lust stained the younger man's eyes a darker blue than he had every seen before, and he caught himself licking his lips as Elijah nibbled on his earlobe. He let Elijah lead him into the shower, the hot water magnifying his lust as Elijah's smooth, smooth skin became slippery under his hands, and they slowly, almost nervously, began to explore flesh that both had studied from afar and yet never thought to touch.
Elijah's mouth finally closed over Dom's cock, and Dom moaned as he was taken in, slowly, deeply, as far as he could go. He looked down, and there were those lust-blue eyes, staring straight into his, as Elijah began to move painfully slow up and down his length. Dom's breathing quickened, but Elijah never erred a heartbeat from his maddening leisurely rhythm. Dom's hips bucked forward, but surprisingly strong hands pushed him flat against the wall, refusing his thrusts. He writhed, wanting faster -- needing faster -- needing to be allowed release --
And then there was nothing, and his breath caught in his throat, and Lij was standing, kissing him, his own hard cock rubbing against Dom's in an electric friction that he had never even contemplated.
"Do you trust me," Elijah purred into Dom's ear.
"With all of me," Dom replied.
Elijah smiled, and kissed him gently. "Then turn around, loverboy."
Dom did as he was told, placing his hands against the wall. His heart was racing, and he jerked forward involuntarily as Elijah's fingers eased inside him.
"Lij-"
"Trust me, Dommie."
Dom swallowed.
It took a few moments, but the sensation turned quickly from painful to strange to quite good, and Dom found himself moving aginst Elijah's fingers, relishing the sensation of being the one who was touched as opposed to the one doing all the touching. Elijah slowly withdrew his fingers.
"I love you, Dommie," Elijah whispered, and as the shock of those words ripped through his heart, Elijah slid inside him, moving slowly but steadily until he was in, all the way, as far as he could. Dom's nerves were on fire, he braced himself against the shower wall, the hot water pouring around him, Elijah's cock resting against the bundle of nerves that sprang into instant and quite surprised life. Elijah snaked a hand around to circle Dom's cock, and began to stroke it, moving his hips in a matching rhythm. Dom moved back and forth between the two sensations, dazed and unable to do much more than groan and gasp and occasionally mutter an "Oh, fucking Christ, that's good."
Elijah began to move faster, hips thrusting harder, and Dom hissed as he drove in deeper, harder with every thrust. He shoved Dom up against the wall, hard, and Dom bit his tongue until it bled as Elijah pounded into him. Somewhere between the taste of blood in his mouth and Elijah's powerful explosion into him, Dom came with a fury that he had never imagined.
They actually showered after that, Elijah soaping him up with the loofah that Orlando had left (they had a private snicker over that). They did their hair in the mirror, and Dom relented and put on some eye-liner since Elijah told him that he had been fantasizing about him wearing it. They got dressed, Dom moving a little gingerly. Elijah wore Dom's favourite t-shirt, and Dom wore his black hat that Elijah coveted.
They made their way downstairs to be greeted by two smirking faces, each more than half drunk.
"By the looks of things, Orli m'lad, our Dom here's just recently parted company with his behymen," Billy mused, polishing off a rum and coke.
"It so does seem," Orli agreed.
Lij and Dom looked at each other and giggled.
"What's so funny?" Billy demanded.
"A man who wears a skirt, and a man who carries a loofah around with him, are holding a conversation with two strapping young sex gods that contains the word 'behymen'," Dom replied, and breezed past the two sputtering men towards the door.
As the four of them made their way out to the car (Dom calling shotgun, and having to defend his claim physically from Billy) Dom still didn't quite understand how the whole thing had happened. But when he slipped his hand up Elijah's thigh as the young man threw the car into reverse, the lust-bue eyes turned towards him made him think that it might be time to make some cute little fan-girl squee.
Pairing: Domlijah
Rating: Hard (no pun intended, or is it?) R or NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own them, know them, or have ever touched them. If the things that are in this story have happened, then I want the video proof.
Billy and Orlando were waiting downstairs, already dressed and ready. They were going out to a club, some place that Dom had never heard of before, but that sounded quite fun, and apt to be full of liqour and glamorous, fast American women. One of the things that he liked most about American women was that they all seemed to like him -- and not simply because he was Dominic Monaghan, Movie Star Extraordinnaire. Oh no, since most of them sort of recognized him in a vague way, starting off with "were you in a class with me last semester?" or "I'm sure I met you at my great-aunt's funeral last month. A pall-bearer, perhaps?" When he gave them his name most would react with no reaction, save for the few who recognized him to begin with and who seemed to want a) nothing more than to fuck him in the bathroom b) to bear his love-children or c) watch him fuck his male friends in the bathroom before bearing his love-children. Those American women who were not of the fangirl variety just wanted to hear him talk. These birds would shag him based solely on his accent, which made pulling at the bars almost too easy, not, mind you, that he was complaining in the least.
But to get back to the matter at hand, Dominic couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was in the shower with Elijah, naked, touching in ways that he had never touched another man before. Billy, he could blame Billy for this. He wasn't sure how it was the Scot's fault, but Billy was certainly to blame.
The four had been in the park, attempting to teach Elijah how to play football like a proper bloke. Elijah hadn't picked up the skill in all their time in New Zealand, at least not to anyone's satisfaction. The poor lad still harbored some silly notions about football being a game that used hands and elbow pads and armor.
"You bloody Yank, why on God's earth would you call a game where you used your hands football, when that name had already been taken for the sport of the gods?"
"Because we did, that's why -- and don't you say anything, since without us you would have lost the war, and then where would you be?"
"Wondering why it took you so bleeding long to get there in the first place!"
"Children," Billy had interupted what had promised to be a good squabble, "can we please just play some footie, before I have to smack both of you imperialistic, colonizing wankers down to size?"
"Shove it up your kilt, Boyd," Dom had replied, delivering a solid pass to Orlando. "I declare the teams to be English versus heathen upstarts, God save the Queen."
Was that really only earlier that evening? Dom mused, running his hands gently down Elijah's back, gasping as Lij's hands traced patterns over his tender nipples with ragged fingernails. Surely it was a lifetime ago. *How the fuck did this ever happen? I hadn't thought that I liked boys --* "Ooh," he moaned as Elijah grazed a nipple with his teeth.
Needless to say, the pride of England won that football match. Billy had tried, but his American protige simply didn't have the co-ordination neccesary to make it an even fight.
"That's the last time I let you all con me into playing this," Elijah muttered, out of breath and lighting up a clove, as the four sprawled on the grass.
"You wouldn't be having those endurance problems it you'd cut back on those death sticks," Orlando teased.
"Just because you quit, you think you're such a high and mighty little prick," Elijah sighed, long familiar with the course of this argument.
" 'You don't want to sell me deathsticks,' 'I don't want to sell you deathsticks.'" Billy began.
" 'You want to go home and think about your life,'" Dom continued.
" 'I want to go home, and think about my life," Orlando finished cheerfully.
"I'm sure you wankers are quoting that wrong. And besides, there's nothing wrong with my endurance," Elijah said, taking a long drag off his clove and, as though to spite Orlando, blowing smoke in his face
"We'll see about that," Billy murmured, and Orlando laughed.
"Did I just miss something?" Dom asked.
"Nothing, nothing at all," Orlando repled too quickly.
"Jedi mind trick, Jedi mind trick," Billy added, waving his hands in Dom's face.
"Come on then, my smelly hobbits," Orlando said, boudning to his feet. "Let's get back to Elijah's and get all prettied up. We're going out on the town tonight, dammit, and I refuse to be seen with the lot of you if you're not clean and presentable."
"When are you yourself ever presentable, you pretentious little elfling?" Billy challenged.
"Always and everywhere, darling, and always utterly fabulous."
Dom's mind was reeling as Elijah worked his way down his stomach, kissing and licking every inch of him from nipple to navel. The warm spray of the shower was pounding against his back, his fingers were tracing patterns on Elijah's slick skin, and although his cock certainly was in the moment, there was a part of his brain that was still desperately trying to piece together how they had gone from seemingly nothing to (almost, nearly, hopefully soon because he was *dying*) fucking.
Billy called the shower first when they got back to Elijah's, and before anyone could challenge him he sprinted up the stairs and locked himself in. The others amused themselves by splitting a six pack, rifling through Lij's truly overwhelming cd collection, and loudly insulting Billy, his manhood, kilts, Billy in a kilt, tartan in general as a fabric choice and color arrangement, and Billy's white socks that he tended to wear while sporiting said kilts which were, in a word, skirts.
Billy emerged from the shower a few moments later, towel snapping arses with a vengence and defending Scottish pride as many men have had to do over the years by shouting loudly "It's a fucking kilt, you fucking wankers, a kilt, and not a soddin' skirt!"
Orlando went next, body checking Dominic as the shorter man tried to edge around him. Dominic proceeded to begin the next round of "annoy the bather" by speaking ill of Orlando's facial hair in Pirates, and from there the three hobbits taunted the elf on many a subject, such as his propensity for hurting himself needlessly, his sick fascination with bad haircuts, and in general how much of a twit he looked like when paired next to Johnny Depp, especially when that worthy was an eye-liner wearing Pirate captain. Orlando was actually a bit hurt about the facial hair comment, and pouted when he emerged from the shower, only to be bolstered a bit by laughing at Elijah's pseudo-sideburns.
Through some strange twist of manuevering (and perhaps it was eased, Dom mused, by the fact that both he and the blue-eye lad who was now kneeling in front on him, poised to slip warm lips around his cock, were both on their way to drunk) Dom found himself being shoved into the bathroom with Elijah, told to "hurry the fuck up, because it's getting late". The two looked at each other, grinned shyly, and began to undress.
"I'll shave, mate, while you shower," Dom began, when from out of nowhere Elijah attacked him, all lips and hot hands and need. Dom was surprised, but he couldn't have been too surprised because he immediately responsed by opening his mouth to kiss back, harder, deeper, until he felt as though all of his being was melding with Elijah's and they were floating together in the void.
He let Elijah strip him, watching as lust stained the younger man's eyes a darker blue than he had every seen before, and he caught himself licking his lips as Elijah nibbled on his earlobe. He let Elijah lead him into the shower, the hot water magnifying his lust as Elijah's smooth, smooth skin became slippery under his hands, and they slowly, almost nervously, began to explore flesh that both had studied from afar and yet never thought to touch.
Elijah's mouth finally closed over Dom's cock, and Dom moaned as he was taken in, slowly, deeply, as far as he could go. He looked down, and there were those lust-blue eyes, staring straight into his, as Elijah began to move painfully slow up and down his length. Dom's breathing quickened, but Elijah never erred a heartbeat from his maddening leisurely rhythm. Dom's hips bucked forward, but surprisingly strong hands pushed him flat against the wall, refusing his thrusts. He writhed, wanting faster -- needing faster -- needing to be allowed release --
And then there was nothing, and his breath caught in his throat, and Lij was standing, kissing him, his own hard cock rubbing against Dom's in an electric friction that he had never even contemplated.
"Do you trust me," Elijah purred into Dom's ear.
"With all of me," Dom replied.
Elijah smiled, and kissed him gently. "Then turn around, loverboy."
Dom did as he was told, placing his hands against the wall. His heart was racing, and he jerked forward involuntarily as Elijah's fingers eased inside him.
"Lij-"
"Trust me, Dommie."
Dom swallowed.
It took a few moments, but the sensation turned quickly from painful to strange to quite good, and Dom found himself moving aginst Elijah's fingers, relishing the sensation of being the one who was touched as opposed to the one doing all the touching. Elijah slowly withdrew his fingers.
"I love you, Dommie," Elijah whispered, and as the shock of those words ripped through his heart, Elijah slid inside him, moving slowly but steadily until he was in, all the way, as far as he could. Dom's nerves were on fire, he braced himself against the shower wall, the hot water pouring around him, Elijah's cock resting against the bundle of nerves that sprang into instant and quite surprised life. Elijah snaked a hand around to circle Dom's cock, and began to stroke it, moving his hips in a matching rhythm. Dom moved back and forth between the two sensations, dazed and unable to do much more than groan and gasp and occasionally mutter an "Oh, fucking Christ, that's good."
Elijah began to move faster, hips thrusting harder, and Dom hissed as he drove in deeper, harder with every thrust. He shoved Dom up against the wall, hard, and Dom bit his tongue until it bled as Elijah pounded into him. Somewhere between the taste of blood in his mouth and Elijah's powerful explosion into him, Dom came with a fury that he had never imagined.
They actually showered after that, Elijah soaping him up with the loofah that Orlando had left (they had a private snicker over that). They did their hair in the mirror, and Dom relented and put on some eye-liner since Elijah told him that he had been fantasizing about him wearing it. They got dressed, Dom moving a little gingerly. Elijah wore Dom's favourite t-shirt, and Dom wore his black hat that Elijah coveted.
They made their way downstairs to be greeted by two smirking faces, each more than half drunk.
"By the looks of things, Orli m'lad, our Dom here's just recently parted company with his behymen," Billy mused, polishing off a rum and coke.
"It so does seem," Orli agreed.
Lij and Dom looked at each other and giggled.
"What's so funny?" Billy demanded.
"A man who wears a skirt, and a man who carries a loofah around with him, are holding a conversation with two strapping young sex gods that contains the word 'behymen'," Dom replied, and breezed past the two sputtering men towards the door.
As the four of them made their way out to the car (Dom calling shotgun, and having to defend his claim physically from Billy) Dom still didn't quite understand how the whole thing had happened. But when he slipped his hand up Elijah's thigh as the young man threw the car into reverse, the lust-bue eyes turned towards him made him think that it might be time to make some cute little fan-girl squee.
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Re:
Re:
*grins* I'm glad that you like.
Re:
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Re: Woah *shudders*
*ehem*
I know someone's not supposed to write a feedback just with that, and I won't, because I'm just "feedbacking" to beg on my knees for you to GO.ON! please, please, please!
and to say that I don't like much sex in the shower, but this was hot!
I loved that of writting the whole story in small flashbacks. Good style, really.