13. caring dom, for shaenie - dom/elijah
13. Caring Dom
*
"Up for going out?" Dom says over the rev of the engine in the drive, and Orlando's impatiently shouted,
"Come on, 'Lijah!"
Elijah waves to Orli and Bill and Russ in the car, squinting a little behind his glasses. He keeps meaning to take out his contacts when he gets a chance, during setups, or at lunch; and he keeps forgetting, too wrapped up in the role and the little dramas of the days. His eyes feel scoured.
"Maybe not tonight," Elijah says.
"Give over," Dominic scoffs, but he looks at Elijah and stops before he even really gets started. "We could do something a bit low-key, like," he offers. "Go for a drink, skip the clubs..."
"They don't look like they're up for skipping anything."
"Drag him out! We don't have all night, Sblomie!" Orlando yells.
"Fuck off then!" Dom yells back, and he and Orli trade obscene gestures and laugh. Dom waves them off, and the car pulls out, trailing loud music and bellowed conversation out the windows and down Elijah's street til they take a corner and disappear.
"Uh," Elijah tries, not sure what just happened. "They didn't just leave you, did they?"
"Sort of." Dom shrugs. "I thought you might be a bit knackered. And I know how you get when you're tired and left on your own, you mope about and play The Cure and probably write letters to ex-girlfriends--"
"I do not,"
Dominic reaches past him and pushes the unshut door open wide, and "Pictures of You" drifts out.
"--write letters to ex-girlfriends," Elijah lies.
"Any road, I thought I'd stop in for a bit and keep you company."
Elijah beckons him in. "I'm not much company tonight, though."
"Long day?"
"Just more fallout from yesterday. You hear about yesterday? Shit, man."
"No...?"
"Sean and Andy kind of got into it." Elijah flops onto his sofa. "I try to be at least a little philosophical about it, I mean, it kind of sucks that they don't like each other? But the tension's good for the scenes, right? Hopefully."
Dom sits on the arm of the nearby recliner. "Right."
"Yeah, I don't really buy it either." Taking off his glasses, Elijah rubs his eyes. "And yesterday, we were doing a scene and Andy ripped off Sean's wig. Total accident. But Sean just," he claps his hands together and sends one zooming away in illustration, "took off. Everybody fuckin' freaking out... it was a mess. And we tried to work it out. You'd think it would maybe help clear the air, but fuck, today was just as bad. Worse. I kind of want to knock their heads together. I mean this is what, our fifth straight week of six days a week, fourteen hours a day, and we're still behind schedule... today, I spend all this time and sit through all this glaring and bitching and shit, I can't sleep because they're sniping, plus it's all rocks and fuckin' fake marshes everywhere. And we shoot like... six seconds. I get one word in. 'Look!' That was it!"
"Tch," Dom sympathizes, shaking his head.
"Yeah." Elijah slouches back against the sofa. "And I know, it's like. You guys were up that tree for like, fucking ever, and the seats hurt and everything. At least I didn't have a backward bike seat shoved up my ass, or crack a rib or break a toe or whatever. I'm just, I'm tired, and being a pussy, I guess."
"Naaaah." Dom gives him a smile, tugging his ear. "It's funny... For ages now, you've been made up to look as if you're on your last legs, and here's me wishing I could lend a hand, you know. Snug you up and look after you. And then they wipe off the greasepaint and you're ready to have a laugh!"
Elijah worries the inside of his lip with his teeth. "You're right," he says finally, pushing himself up from the couch. "I can do this. I can pull it together. Let me take a shower, we'll get a cab and catch up with everyone. Sorry to be such a drag, man."
"That's not what I'm saying," Dom says gently, his smile mellowing to a softer, more serious expression as he stands up too. "What I mean is, I have loads of hugs saved up from all those times it turned out you didn't need them after all. So," he moves in closer and wraps his arms around Elijah, squeezing and releasing; hesitating, and stepping away. "So, there. I can probably spare you a bit of cuddling as well if you like," he adds just a little too lightly.
"Oh yeah?" Elijah says, sort of stupidly.
With all the stress, he hasn't had much time lately to nurse his crush on Dom, but it doesn't seem to have gone away in the meantime. Going by the way his heart's clamoring against his ribcage, his crush on Dom seems to be coming along just fine.
Dom answers by advancing closer again, slowly and carefully, like Elijah's one of the bugs that Dom sneaks up to catch between his hands. And then Dom's all just kind of right there, warm, skinny, strong, long-armed and half-wrapped around Elijah.
With a sort of soft involuntarily grunt, Elijah slumps and folds close, and Dom tips back his head, and somehow even though Dom's not really that much taller, Elijah finds himself with his head tucked under Dom's chin, Dom's arms around him.
Maybe it's because Elijah's been trying so hard to enjoy his new independence since he came to New Zealand, but he almost forgot how good it could feel to not be independent for a little while. Standing like this, his face mashed in Dom's neck, is the safest best feeling he's had in weeks.
"Hey," he says, but he stops because all that's coming to mind is You like me, right? and even if he thinks he saw that in Dom's face before, it's still a dorky thing to say.
"Hey," Dom answers.
"Just so you know," Elijah muffles at him, unwilling to lift his head, "you're going to have to be the one to let go first, because I'm basically not planning to, pretty much ever."
Dom's laugh is low and soothing and happy. "Okay," he says, and holds Elijah tight.
*
"Up for going out?" Dom says over the rev of the engine in the drive, and Orlando's impatiently shouted,
"Come on, 'Lijah!"
Elijah waves to Orli and Bill and Russ in the car, squinting a little behind his glasses. He keeps meaning to take out his contacts when he gets a chance, during setups, or at lunch; and he keeps forgetting, too wrapped up in the role and the little dramas of the days. His eyes feel scoured.
"Maybe not tonight," Elijah says.
"Give over," Dominic scoffs, but he looks at Elijah and stops before he even really gets started. "We could do something a bit low-key, like," he offers. "Go for a drink, skip the clubs..."
"They don't look like they're up for skipping anything."
"Drag him out! We don't have all night, Sblomie!" Orlando yells.
"Fuck off then!" Dom yells back, and he and Orli trade obscene gestures and laugh. Dom waves them off, and the car pulls out, trailing loud music and bellowed conversation out the windows and down Elijah's street til they take a corner and disappear.
"Uh," Elijah tries, not sure what just happened. "They didn't just leave you, did they?"
"Sort of." Dom shrugs. "I thought you might be a bit knackered. And I know how you get when you're tired and left on your own, you mope about and play The Cure and probably write letters to ex-girlfriends--"
"I do not,"
Dominic reaches past him and pushes the unshut door open wide, and "Pictures of You" drifts out.
"--write letters to ex-girlfriends," Elijah lies.
"Any road, I thought I'd stop in for a bit and keep you company."
Elijah beckons him in. "I'm not much company tonight, though."
"Long day?"
"Just more fallout from yesterday. You hear about yesterday? Shit, man."
"No...?"
"Sean and Andy kind of got into it." Elijah flops onto his sofa. "I try to be at least a little philosophical about it, I mean, it kind of sucks that they don't like each other? But the tension's good for the scenes, right? Hopefully."
Dom sits on the arm of the nearby recliner. "Right."
"Yeah, I don't really buy it either." Taking off his glasses, Elijah rubs his eyes. "And yesterday, we were doing a scene and Andy ripped off Sean's wig. Total accident. But Sean just," he claps his hands together and sends one zooming away in illustration, "took off. Everybody fuckin' freaking out... it was a mess. And we tried to work it out. You'd think it would maybe help clear the air, but fuck, today was just as bad. Worse. I kind of want to knock their heads together. I mean this is what, our fifth straight week of six days a week, fourteen hours a day, and we're still behind schedule... today, I spend all this time and sit through all this glaring and bitching and shit, I can't sleep because they're sniping, plus it's all rocks and fuckin' fake marshes everywhere. And we shoot like... six seconds. I get one word in. 'Look!' That was it!"
"Tch," Dom sympathizes, shaking his head.
"Yeah." Elijah slouches back against the sofa. "And I know, it's like. You guys were up that tree for like, fucking ever, and the seats hurt and everything. At least I didn't have a backward bike seat shoved up my ass, or crack a rib or break a toe or whatever. I'm just, I'm tired, and being a pussy, I guess."
"Naaaah." Dom gives him a smile, tugging his ear. "It's funny... For ages now, you've been made up to look as if you're on your last legs, and here's me wishing I could lend a hand, you know. Snug you up and look after you. And then they wipe off the greasepaint and you're ready to have a laugh!"
Elijah worries the inside of his lip with his teeth. "You're right," he says finally, pushing himself up from the couch. "I can do this. I can pull it together. Let me take a shower, we'll get a cab and catch up with everyone. Sorry to be such a drag, man."
"That's not what I'm saying," Dom says gently, his smile mellowing to a softer, more serious expression as he stands up too. "What I mean is, I have loads of hugs saved up from all those times it turned out you didn't need them after all. So," he moves in closer and wraps his arms around Elijah, squeezing and releasing; hesitating, and stepping away. "So, there. I can probably spare you a bit of cuddling as well if you like," he adds just a little too lightly.
"Oh yeah?" Elijah says, sort of stupidly.
With all the stress, he hasn't had much time lately to nurse his crush on Dom, but it doesn't seem to have gone away in the meantime. Going by the way his heart's clamoring against his ribcage, his crush on Dom seems to be coming along just fine.
Dom answers by advancing closer again, slowly and carefully, like Elijah's one of the bugs that Dom sneaks up to catch between his hands. And then Dom's all just kind of right there, warm, skinny, strong, long-armed and half-wrapped around Elijah.
With a sort of soft involuntarily grunt, Elijah slumps and folds close, and Dom tips back his head, and somehow even though Dom's not really that much taller, Elijah finds himself with his head tucked under Dom's chin, Dom's arms around him.
Maybe it's because Elijah's been trying so hard to enjoy his new independence since he came to New Zealand, but he almost forgot how good it could feel to not be independent for a little while. Standing like this, his face mashed in Dom's neck, is the safest best feeling he's had in weeks.
"Hey," he says, but he stops because all that's coming to mind is You like me, right? and even if he thinks he saw that in Dom's face before, it's still a dorky thing to say.
"Hey," Dom answers.
"Just so you know," Elijah muffles at him, unwilling to lift his head, "you're going to have to be the one to let go first, because I'm basically not planning to, pretty much ever."
Dom's laugh is low and soothing and happy. "Okay," he says, and holds Elijah tight.