If You Can't Stand the Heat V
Title: If You Can't Stand the Heat
Part(s): 5/?
Pairings: Monaboyd
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU
Disclaimers: I don't know them and I'm not affiliated with them.
Feedback: I love feedback of all kinds.
Lord, whatever possessed me to think that I could sit here and drink with this man and still retain a little of my composure. He’s all cool as a cucumber across from me, looking like he hasn’t a care in the world: slumped, relaxed and loose, and smiling hazily into is drink. And here am I, all jangley nerves and stuttering jokes, tripping over myself to keep that smile on his perfect lips. I’d do anything to fall asleep to that slightly pursed, bowed perfection and wake up with the chance to bring it back again.
Elijah and Orlando’s physical state is still on a steep, downhill slide, but I must admit that they are a pleasure to watch. Just look at them, making a spectacle of themselves, staking claim to what little free floor space there is here and enjoying every minute of it. There was a time I’d be out there with them, dancing, annoying fellow drinkers and generally making a nuisance of myself, but not now. Not tonight. Tonight, I have more pressing matters to attend to.
“You know, he fancies you.”
It’s poetry, in both motion and sound, the workings of that mouth, and it doesn’t quite register what he’s said to me.
“What? Who fancies me?”
“Don’t be dense, Dom. Our wee American friend has taken quite a shine to you.”
“Oh, now you’re just being silly. Am I going to have to cut you off? Here I am on my first drink and you’re already talking nonsense. Thought you could hold your liquor better than that Billy-boy.”
“I can hold my liquor just fine, you. I’m serious. He’s quite infatuated.”
In-fa-tu-a-ted. There goes my brain again. It just ceases to work beneath the onslaught of those curling, twisted sounds. If I had the nerve I’d ask him to say it again. Wait. He’s saying that he thinks Elijah likes me?
“Billy, the kid is training under me. It’s natural that he should feel a bit of admiration and dare I say hero-worship. After all, I am quite impressive in the kitchen. Yes. I’m his mentor, his role model and perhaps a surrogate older brother. He’s quite alone here, you know.”
“Dom, while I’m sure your cooking skills are quite amazing…..”
“Indeed, they are.”
“Don’t interrupt. Now, as I was saying, what I’m seeing in his eyes is definitely not appropriate, in conjunction with thoughts of family, Dom. He fancies a bit of a tumble and don’t you mistake it for anything else.”
“It’s positively ridiculous, Bills.”
“Sure, sure. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Christ. I get a few minutes alone with him and all he can do is try to set me up with an almost underage, spastic, mutant? It’s hopeless. Why do I torture myself? And the few minutes is up and here they come. God, what a mess.
“Dom! You’ve got to come dance with me. Us. Come dance with us. Orlando and I. Please? Please, please? Just once. I know that you can. I’ve seen you hopping around in the kitchen, when you think no one is watching. Just once. Come on, please?”
“No Elijah. My dancing days are long gone. You know, I think it’s time that we got you and the dashing Mr. Bloom out of here. Billy, could you grab Orlando before he molests that waitress?”
If Billy’d ask me to dance, it wouldn’t take a second for me to consider. I’d be out there in a heartbeat. I’ll bet he knows how to put those hands of his to good use and I’ll bet he knows how to move. He’s not a flamboyant dancer, I’m sure, but those compact muscles and graceful limbs must feel wonderful pressed close against a body. It’s entrancing, the line of his back and hips, as he scoots from the booth and stalks towards Orlando, intent on reeling him in. Oh Dom. Calm yourself.
“Fine, if you’re not going to dance, at least let us sit and have a few more drinks. God! It’s still so early and none of us have to be at work tomorrow. Why does Viggo close on Monday’s anyway? It doesn’t make any sense to me. Hey, what are we going to drink? I know, I know, I know. We’re going to have cherry bombs! Yeah!”
And before I can grab his arm, Elijah as hopped off to the bar, bounding past Billy, who is struggling prettily with Orlando’s lanky frame draped across his shoulder. Back off my man, Bloom.
“Alright Orlando, sit down you great oaf. You’re gonna crush me.”
“Oh Bill. Why did you do that? I could have pulled her. I could.”
“If by pull, you mean getting beat about the head and neck, then yes, you could have pulled her.”
“Listen to the voice of wisdom. Billy is right. We wouldn’t want your pretty face all scratched up and bruised. Your tip money for the week would be out the window and then where would you be, hmmm?”
“Shut it, Dom. She was about to give in to my charms. They always like to put up a fight, but in the end they can never resist me.”
“Where’s your little friend got off to Dom? I thought we were going to get these two out the door and home?”
“Oh Elijah? He went to buy drinks before I could stop him. Here he comes now. Lord, what’s he got? It’s in shot glasses. This can’t be good.”
No reason for Bills to know that it was his bum that pulled my attention away from Lij. No reason at all.
“Cherry Bombs!”
He’s so proud of himself. I guess we’re going to have to choke this concoction down before we’re allowed to leave. This is not turning out at all the way I’d planned.
Hell-fire. Damn.
Part(s): 5/?
Pairings: Monaboyd
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU
Disclaimers: I don't know them and I'm not affiliated with them.
Feedback: I love feedback of all kinds.
Lord, whatever possessed me to think that I could sit here and drink with this man and still retain a little of my composure. He’s all cool as a cucumber across from me, looking like he hasn’t a care in the world: slumped, relaxed and loose, and smiling hazily into is drink. And here am I, all jangley nerves and stuttering jokes, tripping over myself to keep that smile on his perfect lips. I’d do anything to fall asleep to that slightly pursed, bowed perfection and wake up with the chance to bring it back again.
Elijah and Orlando’s physical state is still on a steep, downhill slide, but I must admit that they are a pleasure to watch. Just look at them, making a spectacle of themselves, staking claim to what little free floor space there is here and enjoying every minute of it. There was a time I’d be out there with them, dancing, annoying fellow drinkers and generally making a nuisance of myself, but not now. Not tonight. Tonight, I have more pressing matters to attend to.
“You know, he fancies you.”
It’s poetry, in both motion and sound, the workings of that mouth, and it doesn’t quite register what he’s said to me.
“What? Who fancies me?”
“Don’t be dense, Dom. Our wee American friend has taken quite a shine to you.”
“Oh, now you’re just being silly. Am I going to have to cut you off? Here I am on my first drink and you’re already talking nonsense. Thought you could hold your liquor better than that Billy-boy.”
“I can hold my liquor just fine, you. I’m serious. He’s quite infatuated.”
In-fa-tu-a-ted. There goes my brain again. It just ceases to work beneath the onslaught of those curling, twisted sounds. If I had the nerve I’d ask him to say it again. Wait. He’s saying that he thinks Elijah likes me?
“Billy, the kid is training under me. It’s natural that he should feel a bit of admiration and dare I say hero-worship. After all, I am quite impressive in the kitchen. Yes. I’m his mentor, his role model and perhaps a surrogate older brother. He’s quite alone here, you know.”
“Dom, while I’m sure your cooking skills are quite amazing…..”
“Indeed, they are.”
“Don’t interrupt. Now, as I was saying, what I’m seeing in his eyes is definitely not appropriate, in conjunction with thoughts of family, Dom. He fancies a bit of a tumble and don’t you mistake it for anything else.”
“It’s positively ridiculous, Bills.”
“Sure, sure. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Christ. I get a few minutes alone with him and all he can do is try to set me up with an almost underage, spastic, mutant? It’s hopeless. Why do I torture myself? And the few minutes is up and here they come. God, what a mess.
“Dom! You’ve got to come dance with me. Us. Come dance with us. Orlando and I. Please? Please, please? Just once. I know that you can. I’ve seen you hopping around in the kitchen, when you think no one is watching. Just once. Come on, please?”
“No Elijah. My dancing days are long gone. You know, I think it’s time that we got you and the dashing Mr. Bloom out of here. Billy, could you grab Orlando before he molests that waitress?”
If Billy’d ask me to dance, it wouldn’t take a second for me to consider. I’d be out there in a heartbeat. I’ll bet he knows how to put those hands of his to good use and I’ll bet he knows how to move. He’s not a flamboyant dancer, I’m sure, but those compact muscles and graceful limbs must feel wonderful pressed close against a body. It’s entrancing, the line of his back and hips, as he scoots from the booth and stalks towards Orlando, intent on reeling him in. Oh Dom. Calm yourself.
“Fine, if you’re not going to dance, at least let us sit and have a few more drinks. God! It’s still so early and none of us have to be at work tomorrow. Why does Viggo close on Monday’s anyway? It doesn’t make any sense to me. Hey, what are we going to drink? I know, I know, I know. We’re going to have cherry bombs! Yeah!”
And before I can grab his arm, Elijah as hopped off to the bar, bounding past Billy, who is struggling prettily with Orlando’s lanky frame draped across his shoulder. Back off my man, Bloom.
“Alright Orlando, sit down you great oaf. You’re gonna crush me.”
“Oh Bill. Why did you do that? I could have pulled her. I could.”
“If by pull, you mean getting beat about the head and neck, then yes, you could have pulled her.”
“Listen to the voice of wisdom. Billy is right. We wouldn’t want your pretty face all scratched up and bruised. Your tip money for the week would be out the window and then where would you be, hmmm?”
“Shut it, Dom. She was about to give in to my charms. They always like to put up a fight, but in the end they can never resist me.”
“Where’s your little friend got off to Dom? I thought we were going to get these two out the door and home?”
“Oh Elijah? He went to buy drinks before I could stop him. Here he comes now. Lord, what’s he got? It’s in shot glasses. This can’t be good.”
No reason for Bills to know that it was his bum that pulled my attention away from Lij. No reason at all.
“Cherry Bombs!”
He’s so proud of himself. I guess we’re going to have to choke this concoction down before we’re allowed to leave. This is not turning out at all the way I’d planned.
Hell-fire. Damn.