Pairing: Dominic Monaghan/Elijah Wood, Dominic Monaghan/?, Elijah/Viggo Mortensen (implied)
Rating: This part is NC17
Disclaimer: We do not know these men, therefore this is total fiction. We make no money from this at all.
Summary: The rollercoaster is gathering speed.
Feedback: Always appreciated - perhobfan@yahoo.co.uk
Notes: The story is Dom's POV. Elijah's POV is only expressed through his on-line journal (italics).
***~~~***
Eyeing the golden-brown pastry on his plate instead of the two men across from him, Dominic thought about how he could perfect his approach.
It was the right thing to do. They were the right friends to go to for help. They wouldn't let him down. They couldn't.
"Dom, what's wrong?" Sean reached across the table, manoeuvring past the salt and pepper shakers before settling his hand on Dom's with a squeeze.
All set to have another nibble before broaching the subject, Dominic was slightly disconcerted to see that this fork was in the same hand that was being gently pinned to the table. "No, nothing wrong. I just...well...it's about the thing. The commitment thing." Then it was quite obvious - from the tightening grip on his hand, the identical gasps - that he wouldn't be having more of his apple strudel just yet. "This is really important guys. If I get this wrong, everything's wrong."
Mackenzie shot a baffled glance at his brother.
Dominic took a deep breath. "It's...the music."
If Sean had not been, at heart, a polite and caring man, he might at this stage have rolled his eyes; as it was, he simply removed his hand from Dominic's, reversing his way back through the condiment set.
Sean now realised fully, at last, the advantages of having a gay brother. "Over to you, Mack."
Dominic watched as Mackenzie put his glass down decisively, looking him straight in the eye.
"Anything but Barbra Streisand."
***~~~***
Journal Entry
When I woke up this morning, the first thing I saw was Dom's foot. He was leaning out of bed, trying to reach a book, and his damned heel was almost in my face. He has very flexible feet, high arches and long toes. I could see a trace of black ink around the ankle where he drew a daisy chain a week ago. It's coming off slowly - he refuses to scrub at it - and there were little petals still visible to the naked eye. I think he's trying out tattoos patterns, seeing how they look before committing himself to passing pain and permanent ink. As if the Nine wasn't enough.
Anyhow, he hooked his book and then shuffled back into bed, accidentally catching me in the ribs as he did. I could tell that he realised what he'd done when he turned to look at me as if he were expecting me to chew him out, explode or something. Yesterday, I might have. But today, I just pulled him in for a kiss and held him tight. He looked so...grateful that I felt ashamed. I had made him that way - unsettled and anxious. And before I knew it, I was kissing him harder than I had for weeks. Really kissing him, grinding against him, my hips tilting and rolling. He came right there and then, gasping and shuddering, crying out my name, boneless and helpless.
So, yeah. I think it's going to be all right. I don't need to know. I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I'm back in the land of the living, back with Dom. Halle-fucking-lujah!
***~~~***
Given his reception when he walked in the door, Dominic wondered if Barbara Streisand wasn't so appropriate after all. Because there was Elijah, pressed firmly against him, arms wrapped around him as if he were...incredibly happy to see him.
"So I'm assuming it went well?" Dominic was unable to remember the last time he'd seen Elijah in such good spirits after a photo shoot. "They didn't ask you to pose with giant blow-up starfish or wrapped in tin foil?"
"Actually, the photographer assured me that the Basque is all the rage for men in Milan right now."
"Uh, the what is what?" Dominic asked, pulling away, and looked into eyes of innocent blue.
"Okay, okay, it was cancelled!" Elijah said quickly, giggling. "I've been here since you left this afternoon."
Dominic turned to look at the couch, half expecting to see the illuminated screen with its tiny letters littered across, but for once the laptop was nowhere to be seen. "What have you been up to?"
"Made some phone calls, heard that a friend of mine is back in town. Going to see him right now, actually."
Pushing down his disappointment, Dominic concentrated instead on the wonderful sense of relief at finding what seemed to be the old Elijah back. "How long will you be?"
"Not too long. Back in plenty of time," said Elijah, leaning back in to nuzzle Dominic's jaw.
"In time for what?"
"You'll find out tonight."
Dominic smiled, not in the slightest self-conscious that he was beaming like an idiot. "All right, then." He had something important to do anyway, something he had been putting off for a while now. While Elijah was out with his friend - and there was no way he was going to rock the boat by asking who that was - he could finally turn his mind to the piece de resistance.
When he heard Elijah leave, the house immediately feeling so much emptier without him, he went to rifle through their CDs. After selecting the perfect one for the task in hand, Dom settled down at the kitchen table and tried to empty his mind; to let it all go and let the words simply flow.
Ten minutes later, with a big grin on his face and his tongue out in concentration, Dominic read his effort out loud to the empty house:
'Elijah, we are standing on the edge of the precipice of life, the waves of fate buffeting the sands below us and crashing upon the jagged rocks of adversity. But if you will hold my hand, tight, and never, ever, let go, together we can take that leap of faith and soar.'
With the smug glow of accomplishment, Dominic left his pen and notepad on the table and crossed to the fridge. He was on an artistic high as he rummaged around for a beer, which he then opened on his way back to his masterpiece.
By the time he had guzzled half the can, said masterpiece had taken on the dimensions of literary disaster.
"This is utter fucking crap," he groaned, tearing out the offending page and ripping it to shreds, wondering why there was never a real poet around when he needed one.
***~~~***
Journal Entry
Met Oliver. Got caught up with stuff. Swapped some CDs, and I mentioned the 'commitment thing'. He did a bit of a double take but seemed to recover well. It's just that he was such a good friend to me when the shit hit the fan, and I know that he doesn't want to have to put me back together again. After an hour of convincing, he seemed to be finally satisfied that Dom wasn't going to go sniffing around again. And yes, Oliver wants to be there along with everyone else. He wants to be there for me and Dom.
It's like...sometimes you just have to realise, in the words of John Lennon, as recited to me so often by one Dominic Monaghan, that 'life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.'
Which makes me think, why the hell am I wasting time in here on the computer when Dom is right there in the other room? After all, I did promise him a night to remember.
***~~~***
Journal Entry
Well that lasted, what - less than twelve hours? Not bad, eh? Twelve hours, half a day.
Oh, what a night to remember. It's fucking etched in my memory, all right. Yup.
So I guess I'll start from the beginning. The beginning of last night, that is. I'll write a fucking novel if I have to, I just need to get this out - I think I need to see it in words to even believe it.
When I went to get Dom to drag him to bed, the last thing I expected was to find guilt written all over his face - like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar or wearing his mother's best stiletto heels. Still, I was glad to see that he snapped shut his stupid notebook and gave me his full attention.
Makes me think back to when I was with Viggo in NZ, to when it was all new to me. I thought that it didn't get any better than that. I was wrong. With Dom it went to a totally different level. I suppose the love made the difference.
Last night, I dismantled all my defences and laid them away; I let Dom back in, in every way, body and soul. I couldn't believe how much time I had wasted by not trusting him, by not forgiving him.
Our lovemaking was selfless and slow. I couldn't love him enough, show him enough, give him enough. For weeks, Dom had made the first move and carried us along. Last night, his skin was new, his eyes were new, his mouth was new, or maybe I was just seeing him anew. Whatever it was, I couldn't get enough.
I think I made him cry too, and it was so clear that he had been longing for it. And, yes, I could do it for him. I wanted to.
He made as if to take me in his mouth, as he's done so often before, but I gently pushed until he was on his back, on our bed, eyes wide and legs wider. He tasted so good, fresh from his shower, and I rolled the taste of him around on my tongue, learning him all over again.
And then he moaned, in that voice that always gets me going, "Elijah, you're killing me..."
So I killed him some more, taking him deep in my throat, coaxing him to relinquish the last vestiges of self-control, until I could feel his frantic fingers on my scalp, and I could almost see these tiny wisps of vapour escaping from his still warm damp body.
Damn, that sounds really good. Fuck. If only...no, getting ahead of myself.
He probably thought he was going to finish then and there, but he was mistaken; we had only just begun. Because it had become something else.
Leaving him so close he was whimpering, I turned my attention to his mouth, leaning in to kiss him hard. Dominic wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in and I sensed he was about to reassert himself; it seemed that he still couldn't shake off the notion that he had to be the doer, that he had to pleasure me.
Not this time.
I pinned him, taking him by surprise, his eyes opening wide and then narrowing. I knew then that he wanted it. He was already reaching out to the bedside table when I stopped him, my hand on his wrist. I lifted myself up to straddle his thighs and position myself over him, and I saw his confusion melting away. Looking down at him, his hands clenched in the sheets, I felt nothing but an overwhelming need to take him in, to make him part of me.
As I lowered myself onto his cock, felt the inevitable burn, all the past months faded to nothingness and it was just the two of us finding a rhythm. He released his grip on the bed and held my hips, helping me to rise and fall into a steady pace. I felt one hand close on my hard-on, stroking me until I just had to close my eyes.
"Love...love," he began to stutter, and I sensed the altered pattern of his breathing, saw his mouth open wide and the rhythm of his hand on me became more erratic until all I knew was Dom twitching beneath me, and my desperate need to join him.
I told him that I loved him, more than once I think, the words on my lips as I drifted to sleep, a deeper sleep than I had known for weeks. I think I dreamt, but maybe all it was just a jumble of words and ideas and images. I do know that according to the clock it was three-fifteen when I woke up with Dom's arm heavy across my chest.
Three-fifteen.
So I slid carefully out of bed and went to the kitchen for a glass of juice. I actually longed for a cigarette but I had given them up - again.
Something was niggling at the back of my mind. I thought there might be a pack down the sofa, and it was a long shot, but I found myself on my hands and knees rooting down the upholstery for an overlooked clove.
I didn't find any. What I did find was Dom's notebook.
I picked it up and laid it down on the coffee table where he could find it later. I noticed the doodled dogs and daisies on the cover, and I couldn't help myself. On the first page were what looked suspiciously like doves. I was smiling when I turned to the next page and found his guest list: Ian McKellen, Sean Astin, etc.
I could just see it, our friends all receiving little gold-embossed cards with bells and doves all over them. I could hear the collective groan across three continents. I was shaking my head but grinning when I finally put down the book and headed back to bed.
Nudging Dom gently to one side, I tried to go back to sleep, but ended up staring at the ceiling.
I decided that I would contact Burrows and tell him to go home. Dom would never know.
The thought came to me just as I was finally drifting off to sleep: 'You are hereby cordially invited to a commitment thing...' and I stifled a giggle in the dark, as I imagined Orlando opening up his little card and reading something like that. Then I wondered what new outfit he would show up in. Then I thought...
Orlando.
Who had been such a big part of our lives for so long.
Who wasn't on the list Dom had made.
And speak of the devil, here comes Dominic now.
***~~~***
It hit him as soon as he opened his eyes. And it didn't have a thing to do with jumping off cliffs or Elijah suddenly growing wings.
Instantly, it was all made simple.
A smile already on his face, Dominic swung his legs out of bed, and...had no idea where he had left his notebook.
Then he did have an idea of its whereabouts. And with that recollection came a wave of pure dread - he had never ripped that chuffing page out, the page that held his last dire attempt at expressing himself - his love for Elijah - before Elijah himself had been a welcome interruption. The thought of that last attempt prompted Dominic to spring to his feet.
Before he could fully enter the next room in mid-sprint, a sound stopped him. The tapping of that bloody keyboard again. But worse than that: Elijah was in the living room, notepad definitely in plain view of those eyes - the eyes he had described as "pools of the clearest cerulean, so refreshing and deep that I will never have fear of thirst as long as the waterfall of our love never runs dry."
Cringing, Dominic emerged into the sitting room - slowly, quietly approaching the coffee table with one eye on Elijah and the other on the notebook.
Casually, Dominic retrieved his book, planting a good morning kiss on Elijah's head. He thought his boyfriend looked tired, but after last night that was understandable. The sun was streaming in through the windows, as usual; it had the makings of yet another beautiful day in La La Land.
Elijah closed his laptop and looked up at Dom, smiling thinly.
"Hiya," Dominic said, running his hand through Elijah's hair. "Let's do something really great today. I know! Let's go get my gorgeous boyfriend some sexay Speedos for his trip to Mexico!"
Elijah's response was not quite as enthusiastic as Dominic might have hoped; indeed Elijah was shrugging off Dom's hand from his shoulder and standing. "Seen Orlando lately?" he asked out of the blue.
"Oh shit, Orlando! Good thinking, mate! I only went and left him off the damned guest list. Can you imagine how that would have gone down? No one sulks like Orlando sulks!" Dominic set to scribbling in his notebook, writing Orlando Bloom and guest.
Next to him, Elijah seemed to visibly relax, and when Dominic felt himself being pulled into a hug, he heard what sounded like a sigh of relief.
He made a mental note to talk to Debbie and see if maybe she'd heard from his dad recently. Had Elijah's dad found out about the commitment thing?
When Elijah let go of him, Dominic held tight onto his notepad and pen. "I'm going to put some coffee on." Behind him, he could hear Elijah already opening up the laptop, but that was okay because he planned on getting him out of the house and into the sunshine later. And in a few days they would be with Billy in Mexico for sun, surf and sex.
Life was good.
In the kitchen, he flipped the pages and hastily scribbled down what he could remember of the morning's epiphany. Simple, honest, and clear, the words finally seemed just right.
***~~~***
Journal Entry
Just spoke to Dom. I don't know anymore - I latch on to stuff and run with it, and it's crazy but I can't help it. So maybe he just left Orlando off the guest list because he forgot - though how anyone can just forget Orlando beats me. I want to believe that's all it was, that he wants him to be with us on the day. If he didn't want him there, that could only mean one thing...
I don't want it to be Orlando. I don't want it to be any of our friends because that would mean losing one of them forever…but maybe we can't always have the things we want.
Lunch tomorrow with John and Seanie. They're both our friends. I love them both. It won't stop me looking at the both of them tomorrow and wondering though.
And then I should probably break it to Dom that he's going down to Mexico without me.
TBC