Book 3, Chapter 2: Tiny Little Fractures (3/3)
Title: Tiny Little Fractures (3/3)
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Dominic/Elijah
Word count: 3200
Summary: continues from here.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
They've managed to make the last bus back to the campus, though only by sheer luck and the ability to run--lopsided and laughing with nerves and a lot else besides--as if they were being chased. Elijah tumbles down the aisle to the very back and leans heavily against Dominic as they ride, while Dominic presses his hand to the window and watches the street lights as they flash by. Elijah doesn't mind Dominic's silence now; the guy's obviously got too much going on his head, and at least he's been somewhat grateful to Elijah for helping him maybe sort a little of it out.
Not that Elijah wants to take on some emotional charity case here. He's drawn toward Dominic, definitely--you'd pretty much have to be dead to not be drawn to that voice in that accent, and that body in those jeans, at least tonight, Elijah thinks distractedly--and everybody needs friends, especially everybodies stuck in the wrong country, at the wrong school, in what was supposed to be the right time. It's not a crush, though, because who has time or energy to indulge in that kind of shit, much less act on it, when nine times out of ten it'll go nowhere. Like most of these fucking buses, Elijah thinks, and raises his eyes to see that they've got another ten minutes, easy, before they're home-or as close as they can call it.
Ten minutes go by quickly when you're tired, though, and the rhythm of the bus is good for settling Elijah into half-sleep before the machine crunches to a halt at their stop. Dominic nudges him gently, and Elijah leaps to his feet as if he's been awake and aware the whole time, not allowing the warmth of Dominic beside him to lull him into anything, physically or emotionally. On the street they both yawn and stretch, looking around them, just getting their bearings again. Elijah turns on one heel, ready to walk, but Dominic stumbles and coughs, and Elijah turns back.
"I live over there." Dominic stops and sweeps his hand toward the south end of the campus. "Somewhere."
Elijah throws a glance in the right direction, then shrugs. "If you want to call this living, you go ahead with that. You're coming home with me now, though, remember?"
"Right, right." Dominic takes a little breath as if he's girding himself for it, and pulls Elijah to him again, right here in the middle of the fucking campus. The next breath Elijah takes is Dominic's too, both tart and bitter, all hard cider and hard candies. Elijah doesn't fight the kiss; instead he takes over, thinking if this is how they're going to play, then he knows how to play better. Dominic owes him this, maybe a hell of a lot more, now, and it's only fair that Elijah makes that clear. Only fair that he shows Dominic who and what he's dealing with--not somebody who'll break his heart or even want it from him in the first place, but somebody who can and will take what he wants, without all that attachment shit. Still, there's a desperation in the way Dominic sinks against him and just gives--like he's waiting for Elijah's hands to fall in the right places, places where there are plenty of fingerprints not his own--and Elijah's not impressed by that, however much he can get used to this other thing Dominic's doing, this kissing as a full body contact sport.
"Enough," Elijah finally says, pushing Dominic back not exactly unkindly, but not particularly gently, either. He staggers a little but finds his footing before Dominic can offer to help, and then stares hard at Dominic, taking their mutual measure in his turn now. "We could--this could be good, Dom. Okay? You don't have to give any more of a shit about me than I do about you. We'll just not think about it. Let's just go." Dominic doesn't answer with anything other than a nod, and Elijah nods too, his smile returning slowly. "Okay."
They walk quickly, or so it feels like to Elijah, listening to the sound of his Chucks slapping against pavement and sliding a little in damp grass. The building does its level best to loom over them as they near it, but there's something about the newer residence halls that doesn't foster the same respect or appreciation as the older, and while Elijah certainly doesn't mind the better rooms and amenities he's got here, he's conscious that the place sticks out a bit on the campus, shimmery almost with the reflection of the tall lamps outside. Once inside it doesn't get much warmer and more evocative of Ye Olde University Experience as Elijah'd been promised, but maybe that's not a bad thing; the longer he's been here the more Elijah's begun to realize he's not made for Ye Olde Anything.
Elijah takes the stairs two at a time, keeping his eyes on his feet rather than raised to the too-bright light above them. It's late enough that no one's in the corridors, not even the loud guys who always seem to be there, going silent when Elijah passes them. Elijah's grateful for the quiet, but looks around him twice before he stops at the door to his room, fumbling for his keys and watching from the corner of his eye as Dominic leans against the wall.
"Hungry," Dominic laughs suddenly, and Elijah joins him, nodding quickly.
"It'll do that." Elijah focuses on the door handle again, getting the key in and pushing it into the lock, turning. Before he follows Elijah inside the room, Dominic slides one hand over his face and stares up at that too-bright light. Dominic's residence hall is forever suffering dim or dead lightbulbs, and he wonders for a moment how Elijah could possibly sleep with this sort of light creeping in under his door. Maybe Elijah doesn't sleep at all, Dominic thinks, and then decides that would explain quite a bit. With another laugh he reaches for Elijah again, just inside the room, and Elijah squirms a bit but leans into him, too, nudging his cheek against Dominic's. "C'mon, Dom, get in here."
Elijah room is a nice one, larger than Dominic's by a fair measure and centered around a double instead of the slim single Dominic has. There's one poster on the wall, no movie poster or footie calendar like one would expect to see, but a bleak black and white Escher print, all hard angles and confusion, taunting the eyes and the mind. Dominic frowns at it as if it's done him some personal offense, and then he shakes it off, not wanting to think of anything in terms of black and white now.
Elijah's also got a small refrigerator, and when Dominic's eyes fall on it Elijah makes a noise and shrugs. They're not allowed in the rooms, but as the night's moved on Dominic's come to see that rules aren't uppermost in Elijah's mind, and if he even spared a thought for them, that thought would be easily pushed aside in favour of others that would find a way around them.
"Mostly for the beer," Elijah laughs and nods at the little thing, tucked below his desk. "Go ahead, take the piss again, but at least I'm drinking what I want and how."
"I'd expect nothing less," Dominic laughs, trying to get back into the spirit of things. There's a small part of him that still wants to like Elijah, wants to pretend that this is really for the best that they're here tonight, together, however it ends. Dominic won't let things happen that shouldn't, he's sure of it, and even if he does, there's a reason for everything, right? He's earned some fucking indiscretion, maybe even deserves it. That he neither needs nor wants it doesn't come into play anymore. To that end, before he's barely cleared the threshold, Dominic is pushing Elijah against the closing door, cold hands searching for skin beneath Elijah's shirt.
"Who are you thinking about, Dom?" Elijah asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Dominic pauses, but no real answer comes from him, only another deep breath taken as he stares at Elijah with something in his expression that Elijah recognizes a little too well before he kisses Elijah again, this time harder, and Elijah thinks it might be worth it for a while to shut up, too.
Dominic’s a good kisser, there’s no doubt about it, and he can grind against a guy as if they’d been at it forever. Elijah’s not usually all about this slow build up of whatever, but for a few minutes he can live with it, maybe more than live with it if Dominic does that thing with his tongue again and leaves Elijah wondering what the hell that other guy must have been thinking to walk away from a mouth like this.
When Dominic’s hand dips down inside the waist of Elijah’s jeans, Elijah almost hiccups with surprise he has to just as quickly suppress. If Dominic’s so eager, then might as well give him a little of what he wants and get a better feel of that talent at the same time. Elijah backs up and brings Dominic with him, stopping when the backs of his knees hit the bed behind him. Dominic pauses for breath and then leans in again, releasing a muffled noise of protest when Elijah reaches for his arms and pulls down, the unmistakable request turning into a demand at the second tug.
Dominic falls first to one knee and then the other, swallowing as he tells himself he can do this, that it might even be good. He doesn’t feel the need or desire to assist when Elijah zips open his jeans with a shaking hand, but he makes the effort to let a corner of his mouth turn up in what Elijah could see as an invitation if he chose.
“Can’t tell me you’ve never done this before,” Elijah mutters, and Dominic laughs, a low, dirty sound that hurts his own ears when he recognizes in it the echo of too many nights he’s pretended he’s wanted anyone who’d wanted him first. Elijah doesn’t want him in any sense beyond right here and now and for this, Dominic knows, but the feeling’s mutual, and Dominic raises his eyes and holds Elijah’s stare as Elijah cups first his cock and then the back of Dominic’s neck. At the last moment Dominic hesitates, but Elijah blinks slowly and for a second Dominic can see something in his eyes that looks like actual need, a sweeter, safer thing than any want.
Elijah reaches down to thread his fingers through Dominic’s hair, the gesture more instinctual than anything else, Dominic can tell, but as much as he tries not to feel the touch, to turn into it or even acknowledge it, there’s no denying it feels better than most everything else that’s happened tonight, and he allows himself a little pleasure in that, returning the favour unconsciously by hollowing his cheeks and working a little harder, pulling back and flattening his tongue to slide sweetly under the head of Elijah’s cock. Elijah’s fingers clench just enough to drag Dominic forward again unexpectedly, and he releases an angry little noise of greed as he pushes, fucking Dominic's mouth as if he’s earned the right.
Dominic doesn't gag; however unsteady and rattled he is now, he thinks he'd kill himself before he'd let Elijah think he'd been thrown off that much. But it's hard, and the sting at the back of his eyes is one he's not felt in a long time. For as long as possible Dominic matches Elijah's pace and then some, just wanting it finished now, but when Elijah pulls one time too hard and pushes even harder, Dominic loses his focus, his concentration, and his balance, unprepared for Elijah coming so soon, coming in Dominic’s mouth and digging those short, sharp fingernails deep into Dominic's scalp.
He can't swallow. More, something won't let him, even if he could. Dominic sinks to his calves and then ducks his head, spitting forcefully and then just desperately, trying hard not to let everything else he's knocked back tonight join the party. Elijah's breathing too hard on his own to pay any attention to Dominic; instead he's fallen back a little onto his elbows on the mattress, blinking at the ceiling and letting another of those damned smiles spread slowly across his face in the darkness.
Dominic gets back to his knees after a minute, intending to walk out of here before things get any worse, but he staggers just enough that he ends up back within Elijah's reach, and it's suddenly easier to fall to the bed with him than it would ever be to manage the door, the hallways, and the walk back across campus to his own room. Dominic lays back and listens as Elijah pushes off the rest of his clothes and then settles in again, one hand creeping to the fly of Dominic's jeans. When Dominic makes to touch him, Elijah pushes his hands away and fingers Dominic's zipper, not bothering to look up and meet Dominic's eyes after that, Dominic supposes; what else could he possibly need to know or see?
"C'mon," Elijah almost grunts, but Dominic's barely half-hard in his hand--drunk and high, Elijah thinks, should've expected that--and doesn't seem to want more in any case. Elijah can feel his own features twisting in frustration, but it's not like Dominic can see anyway; his arm's fallen over his eyes now and he looks like he might be anywhere but here in his head. Elijah huffs, not having the energy for actual anger and not wanting to waste it even if he had, certain that Dominic's gone back into some fantasy world where whoever kicked him to the curb's just pulled up again in a nicer car to beg his forgiveness and take him back. Elijah's not that guy and doesn't want to be, but it'd be nice if Dominic would take some responsibility and actual interest here instead of thinking himself blameless, forced or fooled into something when he walked right into it happily enough.
"Elijah--" Dominic starts, the sound of his voice jerking Elijah out of his irritation. Elijah's eyebrows knit and he shakes his head, backing off and reaching for his jeans again.
"Kind of a lightweight, aren't you, man."
Again there's no response, and Elijah digs inside his jeans for the beedies and lighter once more, throwing a smirk up at the ceiling and the sprinkler he'd disabled in about a minute on his second day at Baskerville. He can feel Dominic follow his gaze there, and when he turns back, Dominic turns, too, looking at what's in Elijah's hands and then at the ceiling again. Elijah shrugs and lights up, taking a deep hit before he offers it to Dominic, huffing once more when Dominic waves it away.
"C'mon, Dom, don't even try." Elijah puts the cigarette to Dominic's lips, taking a little moment of triumph when Dominic inhales and pulling the kindest smile out of nowhere when Dominic takes a second drag. "Better, right?"
Dominic tilts his head and closes his eyes on the exhale, nodding only after several long seconds have passed and handing the dying cigarette back to Elijah. Elijah makes another noise in response, smacking lightly at Dominic's chest.
"Least you could do is say thank you."
Dominic coughs, his face reddening again. "For fucking what, exactly? I think I already did--"
"Don't get excited," Elijah singsongs, waving both hands slightly. He watches Dominic watch the smoke drift up from his fingers, taking with it his anger and almost everything else. "You think I don't get it, Dom? You were fucked over. It happens. And not just to you.”
"I'm not thanking you for telling me something I already know, Elijah." Dominic pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes, willing away the burn already there. "I'll get over it. I said I didn't want to talk about it. Not getting me anywhere, is it."
Elijah hums noncommittally, then takes another drag before he pushes his shoulder against Dominic's. "So it was good."
"Yes," Dominic bites out. "It was good. It was fucking brilliant. Or are we talking about just now? Because--"
"Okay, okay." Elijah exhales, cloudy and sweet, and Dominic closes his eyes tighter against the smoke. “Dude," Elijah sighs, the words twisting into a yawn. "Best thing to do if you want him back is to let him know someone else is fucking you.”
Dominic turns back sharply to face Elijah with the last of his strength, but Elijah can tell he doesn't have the words to express how much he doesn't want anyone to know anything about tonight, much less whoever's still on his mind. If he were feeling charitable--more charitable--Elijah could remind Dominic that they haven't done more than just this tonight, probably won't do more than just this at all, unless Dominic comes asking for it. They haven't fucked, they probably aren't going to fuck, and no one needs to know anything. But it couldn't hurt for any of those no ones to think whatever they want.
Dominic's silence continues, as does his stare, and Elijah finally tilts his head and smiles before he slumps down lower on his pillow. "Anyway. Think about it. Sleep it off first, then think about it, Dom. I'm not throwing you out, and be honest, man, that's more than you can say for whoever's got you wound up this tight."
"Shut it." Dominic pushes a tired hand through his hair and his eyes finally close again. "Just. Fucking stop talking, okay? About him, about me, about--everything. Okay?"
"Suit yourself." There's a pause, and then Elijah stubs out the last of the rolled up mess between his fingers, letting loose a contented sigh and a small, high-pitched whinny of a slow laugh. "I'm not sure you're gonna remember any of it tomorrow anyway, so. I'm sleeping. You do what you've gotta do."
Dominic's too relaxed and heavy-limbed to run, Elijah knows it, but he also knows that Dominic would run now if he could. There's tension in his stillness beside Elijah in the bed, and when Elijah drops a casual hand on his shoulder Dominic exhales shakily but doesn't flinch from the touch.
It's hours later that Dominic finally does move, and though Elijah feels every careful, quiet motion around him, he keeps his eyes shut and his smile as hidden as possible. It's not like he's done anything wrong or forced Dominic into anything, and when he hears Dominic pause by the door, his hand on the softly clicking latch, Elijah knows Dominic will be back. When and for what, who the hell cares. He'll be back, and Elijah may find it in his heart to be charitable again. In the meantime he lets Dominic go and waits long seconds before he lets himself fall into real sleep, all thoughts of Dominic's narrowed bright eyes and fucking amazing mouth long gone.
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Dominic/Elijah
Word count: 3200
Summary: continues from here.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
They've managed to make the last bus back to the campus, though only by sheer luck and the ability to run--lopsided and laughing with nerves and a lot else besides--as if they were being chased. Elijah tumbles down the aisle to the very back and leans heavily against Dominic as they ride, while Dominic presses his hand to the window and watches the street lights as they flash by. Elijah doesn't mind Dominic's silence now; the guy's obviously got too much going on his head, and at least he's been somewhat grateful to Elijah for helping him maybe sort a little of it out.
Not that Elijah wants to take on some emotional charity case here. He's drawn toward Dominic, definitely--you'd pretty much have to be dead to not be drawn to that voice in that accent, and that body in those jeans, at least tonight, Elijah thinks distractedly--and everybody needs friends, especially everybodies stuck in the wrong country, at the wrong school, in what was supposed to be the right time. It's not a crush, though, because who has time or energy to indulge in that kind of shit, much less act on it, when nine times out of ten it'll go nowhere. Like most of these fucking buses, Elijah thinks, and raises his eyes to see that they've got another ten minutes, easy, before they're home-or as close as they can call it.
Ten minutes go by quickly when you're tired, though, and the rhythm of the bus is good for settling Elijah into half-sleep before the machine crunches to a halt at their stop. Dominic nudges him gently, and Elijah leaps to his feet as if he's been awake and aware the whole time, not allowing the warmth of Dominic beside him to lull him into anything, physically or emotionally. On the street they both yawn and stretch, looking around them, just getting their bearings again. Elijah turns on one heel, ready to walk, but Dominic stumbles and coughs, and Elijah turns back.
"I live over there." Dominic stops and sweeps his hand toward the south end of the campus. "Somewhere."
Elijah throws a glance in the right direction, then shrugs. "If you want to call this living, you go ahead with that. You're coming home with me now, though, remember?"
"Right, right." Dominic takes a little breath as if he's girding himself for it, and pulls Elijah to him again, right here in the middle of the fucking campus. The next breath Elijah takes is Dominic's too, both tart and bitter, all hard cider and hard candies. Elijah doesn't fight the kiss; instead he takes over, thinking if this is how they're going to play, then he knows how to play better. Dominic owes him this, maybe a hell of a lot more, now, and it's only fair that Elijah makes that clear. Only fair that he shows Dominic who and what he's dealing with--not somebody who'll break his heart or even want it from him in the first place, but somebody who can and will take what he wants, without all that attachment shit. Still, there's a desperation in the way Dominic sinks against him and just gives--like he's waiting for Elijah's hands to fall in the right places, places where there are plenty of fingerprints not his own--and Elijah's not impressed by that, however much he can get used to this other thing Dominic's doing, this kissing as a full body contact sport.
"Enough," Elijah finally says, pushing Dominic back not exactly unkindly, but not particularly gently, either. He staggers a little but finds his footing before Dominic can offer to help, and then stares hard at Dominic, taking their mutual measure in his turn now. "We could--this could be good, Dom. Okay? You don't have to give any more of a shit about me than I do about you. We'll just not think about it. Let's just go." Dominic doesn't answer with anything other than a nod, and Elijah nods too, his smile returning slowly. "Okay."
They walk quickly, or so it feels like to Elijah, listening to the sound of his Chucks slapping against pavement and sliding a little in damp grass. The building does its level best to loom over them as they near it, but there's something about the newer residence halls that doesn't foster the same respect or appreciation as the older, and while Elijah certainly doesn't mind the better rooms and amenities he's got here, he's conscious that the place sticks out a bit on the campus, shimmery almost with the reflection of the tall lamps outside. Once inside it doesn't get much warmer and more evocative of Ye Olde University Experience as Elijah'd been promised, but maybe that's not a bad thing; the longer he's been here the more Elijah's begun to realize he's not made for Ye Olde Anything.
Elijah takes the stairs two at a time, keeping his eyes on his feet rather than raised to the too-bright light above them. It's late enough that no one's in the corridors, not even the loud guys who always seem to be there, going silent when Elijah passes them. Elijah's grateful for the quiet, but looks around him twice before he stops at the door to his room, fumbling for his keys and watching from the corner of his eye as Dominic leans against the wall.
"Hungry," Dominic laughs suddenly, and Elijah joins him, nodding quickly.
"It'll do that." Elijah focuses on the door handle again, getting the key in and pushing it into the lock, turning. Before he follows Elijah inside the room, Dominic slides one hand over his face and stares up at that too-bright light. Dominic's residence hall is forever suffering dim or dead lightbulbs, and he wonders for a moment how Elijah could possibly sleep with this sort of light creeping in under his door. Maybe Elijah doesn't sleep at all, Dominic thinks, and then decides that would explain quite a bit. With another laugh he reaches for Elijah again, just inside the room, and Elijah squirms a bit but leans into him, too, nudging his cheek against Dominic's. "C'mon, Dom, get in here."
Elijah room is a nice one, larger than Dominic's by a fair measure and centered around a double instead of the slim single Dominic has. There's one poster on the wall, no movie poster or footie calendar like one would expect to see, but a bleak black and white Escher print, all hard angles and confusion, taunting the eyes and the mind. Dominic frowns at it as if it's done him some personal offense, and then he shakes it off, not wanting to think of anything in terms of black and white now.
Elijah's also got a small refrigerator, and when Dominic's eyes fall on it Elijah makes a noise and shrugs. They're not allowed in the rooms, but as the night's moved on Dominic's come to see that rules aren't uppermost in Elijah's mind, and if he even spared a thought for them, that thought would be easily pushed aside in favour of others that would find a way around them.
"Mostly for the beer," Elijah laughs and nods at the little thing, tucked below his desk. "Go ahead, take the piss again, but at least I'm drinking what I want and how."
"I'd expect nothing less," Dominic laughs, trying to get back into the spirit of things. There's a small part of him that still wants to like Elijah, wants to pretend that this is really for the best that they're here tonight, together, however it ends. Dominic won't let things happen that shouldn't, he's sure of it, and even if he does, there's a reason for everything, right? He's earned some fucking indiscretion, maybe even deserves it. That he neither needs nor wants it doesn't come into play anymore. To that end, before he's barely cleared the threshold, Dominic is pushing Elijah against the closing door, cold hands searching for skin beneath Elijah's shirt.
"Who are you thinking about, Dom?" Elijah asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Dominic pauses, but no real answer comes from him, only another deep breath taken as he stares at Elijah with something in his expression that Elijah recognizes a little too well before he kisses Elijah again, this time harder, and Elijah thinks it might be worth it for a while to shut up, too.
Dominic’s a good kisser, there’s no doubt about it, and he can grind against a guy as if they’d been at it forever. Elijah’s not usually all about this slow build up of whatever, but for a few minutes he can live with it, maybe more than live with it if Dominic does that thing with his tongue again and leaves Elijah wondering what the hell that other guy must have been thinking to walk away from a mouth like this.
When Dominic’s hand dips down inside the waist of Elijah’s jeans, Elijah almost hiccups with surprise he has to just as quickly suppress. If Dominic’s so eager, then might as well give him a little of what he wants and get a better feel of that talent at the same time. Elijah backs up and brings Dominic with him, stopping when the backs of his knees hit the bed behind him. Dominic pauses for breath and then leans in again, releasing a muffled noise of protest when Elijah reaches for his arms and pulls down, the unmistakable request turning into a demand at the second tug.
Dominic falls first to one knee and then the other, swallowing as he tells himself he can do this, that it might even be good. He doesn’t feel the need or desire to assist when Elijah zips open his jeans with a shaking hand, but he makes the effort to let a corner of his mouth turn up in what Elijah could see as an invitation if he chose.
“Can’t tell me you’ve never done this before,” Elijah mutters, and Dominic laughs, a low, dirty sound that hurts his own ears when he recognizes in it the echo of too many nights he’s pretended he’s wanted anyone who’d wanted him first. Elijah doesn’t want him in any sense beyond right here and now and for this, Dominic knows, but the feeling’s mutual, and Dominic raises his eyes and holds Elijah’s stare as Elijah cups first his cock and then the back of Dominic’s neck. At the last moment Dominic hesitates, but Elijah blinks slowly and for a second Dominic can see something in his eyes that looks like actual need, a sweeter, safer thing than any want.
Elijah reaches down to thread his fingers through Dominic’s hair, the gesture more instinctual than anything else, Dominic can tell, but as much as he tries not to feel the touch, to turn into it or even acknowledge it, there’s no denying it feels better than most everything else that’s happened tonight, and he allows himself a little pleasure in that, returning the favour unconsciously by hollowing his cheeks and working a little harder, pulling back and flattening his tongue to slide sweetly under the head of Elijah’s cock. Elijah’s fingers clench just enough to drag Dominic forward again unexpectedly, and he releases an angry little noise of greed as he pushes, fucking Dominic's mouth as if he’s earned the right.
Dominic doesn't gag; however unsteady and rattled he is now, he thinks he'd kill himself before he'd let Elijah think he'd been thrown off that much. But it's hard, and the sting at the back of his eyes is one he's not felt in a long time. For as long as possible Dominic matches Elijah's pace and then some, just wanting it finished now, but when Elijah pulls one time too hard and pushes even harder, Dominic loses his focus, his concentration, and his balance, unprepared for Elijah coming so soon, coming in Dominic’s mouth and digging those short, sharp fingernails deep into Dominic's scalp.
He can't swallow. More, something won't let him, even if he could. Dominic sinks to his calves and then ducks his head, spitting forcefully and then just desperately, trying hard not to let everything else he's knocked back tonight join the party. Elijah's breathing too hard on his own to pay any attention to Dominic; instead he's fallen back a little onto his elbows on the mattress, blinking at the ceiling and letting another of those damned smiles spread slowly across his face in the darkness.
Dominic gets back to his knees after a minute, intending to walk out of here before things get any worse, but he staggers just enough that he ends up back within Elijah's reach, and it's suddenly easier to fall to the bed with him than it would ever be to manage the door, the hallways, and the walk back across campus to his own room. Dominic lays back and listens as Elijah pushes off the rest of his clothes and then settles in again, one hand creeping to the fly of Dominic's jeans. When Dominic makes to touch him, Elijah pushes his hands away and fingers Dominic's zipper, not bothering to look up and meet Dominic's eyes after that, Dominic supposes; what else could he possibly need to know or see?
"C'mon," Elijah almost grunts, but Dominic's barely half-hard in his hand--drunk and high, Elijah thinks, should've expected that--and doesn't seem to want more in any case. Elijah can feel his own features twisting in frustration, but it's not like Dominic can see anyway; his arm's fallen over his eyes now and he looks like he might be anywhere but here in his head. Elijah huffs, not having the energy for actual anger and not wanting to waste it even if he had, certain that Dominic's gone back into some fantasy world where whoever kicked him to the curb's just pulled up again in a nicer car to beg his forgiveness and take him back. Elijah's not that guy and doesn't want to be, but it'd be nice if Dominic would take some responsibility and actual interest here instead of thinking himself blameless, forced or fooled into something when he walked right into it happily enough.
"Elijah--" Dominic starts, the sound of his voice jerking Elijah out of his irritation. Elijah's eyebrows knit and he shakes his head, backing off and reaching for his jeans again.
"Kind of a lightweight, aren't you, man."
Again there's no response, and Elijah digs inside his jeans for the beedies and lighter once more, throwing a smirk up at the ceiling and the sprinkler he'd disabled in about a minute on his second day at Baskerville. He can feel Dominic follow his gaze there, and when he turns back, Dominic turns, too, looking at what's in Elijah's hands and then at the ceiling again. Elijah shrugs and lights up, taking a deep hit before he offers it to Dominic, huffing once more when Dominic waves it away.
"C'mon, Dom, don't even try." Elijah puts the cigarette to Dominic's lips, taking a little moment of triumph when Dominic inhales and pulling the kindest smile out of nowhere when Dominic takes a second drag. "Better, right?"
Dominic tilts his head and closes his eyes on the exhale, nodding only after several long seconds have passed and handing the dying cigarette back to Elijah. Elijah makes another noise in response, smacking lightly at Dominic's chest.
"Least you could do is say thank you."
Dominic coughs, his face reddening again. "For fucking what, exactly? I think I already did--"
"Don't get excited," Elijah singsongs, waving both hands slightly. He watches Dominic watch the smoke drift up from his fingers, taking with it his anger and almost everything else. "You think I don't get it, Dom? You were fucked over. It happens. And not just to you.”
"I'm not thanking you for telling me something I already know, Elijah." Dominic pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes, willing away the burn already there. "I'll get over it. I said I didn't want to talk about it. Not getting me anywhere, is it."
Elijah hums noncommittally, then takes another drag before he pushes his shoulder against Dominic's. "So it was good."
"Yes," Dominic bites out. "It was good. It was fucking brilliant. Or are we talking about just now? Because--"
"Okay, okay." Elijah exhales, cloudy and sweet, and Dominic closes his eyes tighter against the smoke. “Dude," Elijah sighs, the words twisting into a yawn. "Best thing to do if you want him back is to let him know someone else is fucking you.”
Dominic turns back sharply to face Elijah with the last of his strength, but Elijah can tell he doesn't have the words to express how much he doesn't want anyone to know anything about tonight, much less whoever's still on his mind. If he were feeling charitable--more charitable--Elijah could remind Dominic that they haven't done more than just this tonight, probably won't do more than just this at all, unless Dominic comes asking for it. They haven't fucked, they probably aren't going to fuck, and no one needs to know anything. But it couldn't hurt for any of those no ones to think whatever they want.
Dominic's silence continues, as does his stare, and Elijah finally tilts his head and smiles before he slumps down lower on his pillow. "Anyway. Think about it. Sleep it off first, then think about it, Dom. I'm not throwing you out, and be honest, man, that's more than you can say for whoever's got you wound up this tight."
"Shut it." Dominic pushes a tired hand through his hair and his eyes finally close again. "Just. Fucking stop talking, okay? About him, about me, about--everything. Okay?"
"Suit yourself." There's a pause, and then Elijah stubs out the last of the rolled up mess between his fingers, letting loose a contented sigh and a small, high-pitched whinny of a slow laugh. "I'm not sure you're gonna remember any of it tomorrow anyway, so. I'm sleeping. You do what you've gotta do."
Dominic's too relaxed and heavy-limbed to run, Elijah knows it, but he also knows that Dominic would run now if he could. There's tension in his stillness beside Elijah in the bed, and when Elijah drops a casual hand on his shoulder Dominic exhales shakily but doesn't flinch from the touch.
It's hours later that Dominic finally does move, and though Elijah feels every careful, quiet motion around him, he keeps his eyes shut and his smile as hidden as possible. It's not like he's done anything wrong or forced Dominic into anything, and when he hears Dominic pause by the door, his hand on the softly clicking latch, Elijah knows Dominic will be back. When and for what, who the hell cares. He'll be back, and Elijah may find it in his heart to be charitable again. In the meantime he lets Dominic go and waits long seconds before he lets himself fall into real sleep, all thoughts of Dominic's narrowed bright eyes and fucking amazing mouth long gone.