Beauty In The Eye Of The Beholder - Part Seven
Title: Beauty In The Eye Of The Beholder
Pairing: Dom/Elijah
Rating: PG13-R, PG-13 this part
Part: Six
Disclaimer: No I don't own them, yes this is made up.
Feedback: As always, any feedback (inc. CC) is welcome.
Notes: AU. Comes from a plot bunny by cara_dee that I read and couldn't stop thinking about: "A modern day beauty and the beast. Lij is in England, and Dom is a man who has been on his own for a very long time. These two, the beauty and the beast, come together, and give one another just what each need." So I adopted the bunny, and here it is. This will be a series - updates short but regular. :)
Prologue
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
They met again on Wednesday evening for some supper, so that Elijah could have another look at the records, which he had insisted on leaving at Dom’s house for fear of damaging them. Elijah called in at almost half seven, carrying a large Tupperware box and a bottle of wine.
“Hi!” he said brightly, as Dom let him in. “I brought dessert.”
“You needn’t have, but thank you,” Dom said, accepting the box. Elijah followed him into the kitchen, the bottle cradled in his arms.
“I hope you like red,” he said.
Dom chuckled. “I’ll drink anything, to be honest.”
Elijah laughed a little too - after the other day, he seemed happier and more cheerful. “Something smells good, anyway.”
“It’s nothing special, just a casserole,” Dom said, somewhat shyly.
“I’m sure it’ll be great. I’m not much of a cook.”
Dom passed Elijah a pair of wine glasses, which Elijah put on the work-surface, then took the corkscrew Dom handed him. “You want a glass now?”
“Yeah, go on then, thanks.” Dom turned his attention back to the oven, turning it off and reaching for the oven gloves. “You’re ready to eat now, right?”
“Yeah,” Elijah said, handing Dom his glass. “Thanks, it’s nice to be getting to know someone round here. It’s actually quite lonely, coming somewhere you’ve never been before and trying to ask people a load of questions...”
Dom opened the oven door, letting out a huge wave of heat that caused a momentary shimmer in the air. “Why don’t you go and sit down?” he suggested, gesturing the small table at the other end of the kitchen, already set for two.
“You don’t want a hand?”
“Nah, there’s nothing else to be done, really.” Dom followed Elijah to the table and laid the casserole dish in the middle. Now that he’d seen Elijah a little emotional and upset on Monday, there was a sense of comfort in the atmosphere, as though he wasn’t talking to a complete stranger anymore, but rather a friend. It wasn’t a feeling Dom was particularly used to, but it was certainly pleasant.
“There, help yourself - there’s salad in the bowl there,” he said, sitting down opposite Elijah.
“Thank you,” Elijah said enthusiastically, ladling himself a generous portion of steaming beef casserole. “Wow, this looks amazing...”
Dom smiled to himself and forked out some salad onto his own plate. A minute or two passed in complete silence, apart from the gentle chink of cutlery on crockery.
***
After they had eaten, Dom dumped the washing-up in the sink and went with Elijah upstairs to the sitting-room, where the fire was lit and the papers were still spread over the table. He sat on the sofa, while Elijah brought the pile of papers and sat on the floor, back leaning against the sofa opposite Dom, knees drawn up.
“Did you know this?” he asked after a while. “Someone’s traced your family all the way back to the Doomsday book. That’s so cool.”
“Yeah,” Dom said, peering in the semi-darkness - he had lit a lamp but the light was only really visible to him in the soft illumination of the planes of Elijah’s cheeks and forehead. “That was probably my mum and dad, they were both really interested in genealogy...”
Elijah poured another glass of wine, offered Dom the bottle. Dom declined - a glass and a half of red had already made him feel slightly drowsy. Elijah shrugged and took a large gulp from his glass, and continued studying the family tree. Dom noticed that his large eyes looked more glassy and unfocused than usual, and vaguely hoped it wasn’t the effect of the wine.
“You’re lucky that you know things like that, though,” he said. “I don’t even know who my dad is, let alone my great-great-great granddad.”
Dom gave Elijah a quick glance, but it confirmed that Elijah was more interested in polishing off the wine than anything else.
The companionable quiet continued for another while. The crackle of the logs in the fire and the gentle sound of Elijah’s breathing, combined with the occasional rustle of paper and the not-so-occasional clink of the wine bottle or Elijah’s glass, was just enough noise for Dom. He found himself staring at the flames, mind wandering, eyes following the shifting shapes and colours -
Until he was jerked back sharply to reality by a dull thud. He shot a look at Elijah, who had dropped to the ground in what appeared to be a drunken faint. The wine bottle was empty.
***
Dom was up late the next morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past ten, and once he got out of bed he still felt like he had no energy. He brewed fresh coffee, poured two cups and took one upstairs.
“Elijah?” He tapped on the door of one of the spare bedrooms, down the corridor from his own. “Elijah?”
A muffled groan seeped out around the heavy oak door. Dom took this as a cue and twisted the gilt handle, letting himself in.
Elijah was lying on his stomach in a rumpled mess under the duvet on the hastily-made-up four-poster, one blue eye cracked open just enough to see Dom approaching.
“Morning,” Dom said, keeping his voice soft. “I brought you some coffee.”
“Where am I?” Elijah asked, half-sitting up, then thinking better of it and crashing back down to the safety of the pillows.
“I put you up in a spare room,” Dom explained, putting the coffee cup on the bedside table. “I couldn’t wake you up last night, see.”
Elijah moaned quietly. “God, I’m really sorry...”
“Doesn’t matter,” Dom said. This was, in part, a small lie - he had suffered an agonising few moments of indecisiveness when Elijah had passed out, wondering what would be the done thing. Whether he should drop him home (but that wouldn’t work, he didn’t really know where Elijah was staying), or just leave him on the floor (uncomfortable and cold), or try and move him...Dom had eventually gone and made up a bed and half-dragged Elijah upstairs. He had even managed to take Elijah’s shoes off for him, which he considered an achievement.
Elijah tried sitting up again, with slightly more success. Supported on one bony elbow, he took the cup of coffee and sipped slowly, eyes fluttering closed again.
“Thanks,” he managed.
“You want any breakfast?”
“No thanks,” Elijah replied. “Actually, where’s your bathroom again?”
“It’s the first door on your right,” Dom said, as Elijah struggled out of bed, a pale green tinge to his cheeks.
***
“I’m really sorry about last night.” Elijah was washed and looking more awake, standing in Dom’s porch, an embarrassed flush on his cheekbones. “Thanks for everything.”
“It’s OK,” Dom repeated, for what felt like the tenth time since Elijah had woken up. “Really, it was no problem.”
Elijah paused, then said, “Let me make it up to - I know you didn’t mind but I feel awful about it. Can I buy you a drink or something?”
Dom laughed at that. “I don’t think you’re quite up to going drinking tonight, do you?”
Elijah gave a shy chuckle too. “Maybe not. Coffee or something instead then? How’s tomorrow for you? We could go and have lunch in town.”
To Dom, this sounded a lot like Elijah was asking him out. Surely lunch was going a bit further than a casual pint in the local? Or maybe lunch was the American equivalent?
“Erm...” he said, trying to think of an excuse.
Elijah’s face dropped a little. “Just because I’m gay, you don’t always have to think I’m asking you out.”
Dom felt his own face colouring up with embarrassment. “I was just trying to think if I had anything on already,” he protested weakly.
Elijah bit his lip in the growing awkward silence. “Well, thanks, anyway, for last night. And for the interviews and everything. You were a great help.” His voice had gone oddly formal, and Dom felt a prick of guilt.
“Lunch sounds good,” he said.
Elijah smiled, though it maybe wasn’t quite 100% genuine. “Right. Well, I...I could come and pick you up...I don’t really know anywhere, you see...”
“Ok,” Dom agreed.
“Ok,” Elijah repeated. His eyes softened a little, and he added, “I really didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”
“You didn’t,” Dom said hastily. “It’s fine. Are you sure you’re OK to drive?”
Elijah nodded, a quick smile quirking his lips upwards. “I’ve driven in states worse than this before, that’s for sure. I’ll be fine.” He left the porch, going down the steps, and gave Dom a wave as he got into his Morris.
Dom waved back, but he was still trying to figure out why he had felt guilty at hurting Elijah...and exactly why he was looking forward to tomorrow’s lunch.