(no subject)
title: pg. 110
author: ebti
pairing: daniel/elijah, unrequited alfonso/daniel
warning: duh.
summary: so, apparently, i have a paper due tomorrow on this book called "the plague" by albert camus, and instead of actually finishing the book, i write this. while watching the mtv vma's. and guess what page of the book i'm on. erm. maybe i should get a different title.
the actual fic isn't capital-challenged, yo.
Daniel walked towards his trailer, away from the bundle of sexually charged energy that was Alfonso Cuaron. The constant touches Alfonso gave Daniel startled him at first, the ruffling of his hair, pats on the back, clapping of the shoulder, resting his head on the nape of neck, and the grip of Daniel’s wrist to pull the young body towards his own.
Daniel walked towards the chauffeured car, away from his trailer that was covered in free clothes and cards. Daniel got used to the attention eventually, showing the quiet|shy smile he gave when the flirtation started, stiffening his back and shoulders when he wanted it to stop.
Daniel walked towards the cinema. He wore a hooded sweater and thick-rimmed black glasses with plastic in them, since a baseball cap and sunglasses were too conspicuous in lovely grey England. He stood in line behind another man in the same outfit. Daniel eavesdropped on the man’s chosen movie, hearing a lovely familiar voice. He bought a ticket to the same movie as the man, and walked behind him, slower, quickening up, slower again, watching him.
Elijah. The name rolled off the tongue. Daniel felt like saying it, but not here.
The movie on the ticket said Return of the King. There was a long line in front of the door, people sitting on the mutedly carpeted floor and old sneakers making the thump of solid weight hitting the ground. Elijah went past the line, towards another movie. Daniel followed him in.
But only after they both went into a brightly bejeweled bathroom, after they reached a bathroom stall hidden away in a left turn after a right, after they both quietly erupted with gasps unvoiced towards the ceiling and hands grasping each other’s hair.
The movie was a three-week-old action movie that no one really cared to see, Elijah walking up the very back. Daniel took his time following him as the previews rolled.
They ran their hands over each other’s skin underneath their clothes, and kissed, and Daniel received a wet bruise on his collarbone and didn’t mind at all. During the shoot-em-up scene the hands groped lower, and Daniel let Elijah’s name roll off his tongue.
They fixed themselves orderly during the last scene, and walked out before the lights came up. Into the hallway, drenched in sunlight from the tall windows of the theater, and Daniel forgot himself and began to speak. Then he remembered himself and didn’t say anything at all. But Elijah was already turning his head, looking over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, letting a hushed shush reach Daniel’s ears, a coy wink reaching Daniel’s eyes.
Daniel smirked.
author: ebti
pairing: daniel/elijah, unrequited alfonso/daniel
warning: duh.
summary: so, apparently, i have a paper due tomorrow on this book called "the plague" by albert camus, and instead of actually finishing the book, i write this. while watching the mtv vma's. and guess what page of the book i'm on. erm. maybe i should get a different title.
the actual fic isn't capital-challenged, yo.
Daniel walked towards his trailer, away from the bundle of sexually charged energy that was Alfonso Cuaron. The constant touches Alfonso gave Daniel startled him at first, the ruffling of his hair, pats on the back, clapping of the shoulder, resting his head on the nape of neck, and the grip of Daniel’s wrist to pull the young body towards his own.
Daniel walked towards the chauffeured car, away from his trailer that was covered in free clothes and cards. Daniel got used to the attention eventually, showing the quiet|shy smile he gave when the flirtation started, stiffening his back and shoulders when he wanted it to stop.
Daniel walked towards the cinema. He wore a hooded sweater and thick-rimmed black glasses with plastic in them, since a baseball cap and sunglasses were too conspicuous in lovely grey England. He stood in line behind another man in the same outfit. Daniel eavesdropped on the man’s chosen movie, hearing a lovely familiar voice. He bought a ticket to the same movie as the man, and walked behind him, slower, quickening up, slower again, watching him.
Elijah. The name rolled off the tongue. Daniel felt like saying it, but not here.
The movie on the ticket said Return of the King. There was a long line in front of the door, people sitting on the mutedly carpeted floor and old sneakers making the thump of solid weight hitting the ground. Elijah went past the line, towards another movie. Daniel followed him in.
But only after they both went into a brightly bejeweled bathroom, after they reached a bathroom stall hidden away in a left turn after a right, after they both quietly erupted with gasps unvoiced towards the ceiling and hands grasping each other’s hair.
The movie was a three-week-old action movie that no one really cared to see, Elijah walking up the very back. Daniel took his time following him as the previews rolled.
They ran their hands over each other’s skin underneath their clothes, and kissed, and Daniel received a wet bruise on his collarbone and didn’t mind at all. During the shoot-em-up scene the hands groped lower, and Daniel let Elijah’s name roll off his tongue.
They fixed themselves orderly during the last scene, and walked out before the lights came up. Into the hallway, drenched in sunlight from the tall windows of the theater, and Daniel forgot himself and began to speak. Then he remembered himself and didn’t say anything at all. But Elijah was already turning his head, looking over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, letting a hushed shush reach Daniel’s ears, a coy wink reaching Daniel’s eyes.
Daniel smirked.