Title: Mine Mine Elijah loves the drive back home from the airport, especially in the dark. Something about the city lights pull him into a cocoon of familiarity. He wonders if this is how fishermen feel after months away at sea, yearning for the familiar things of home, knowing that the familiar will never be the same again. Things change, people change and the familiar changes with them. Fisherman away at sea? Fuck. The faceless ache Elijah feels whenever he comes home after a long time away is now identified by last night’s channel 36 movie of the week. He’s having a *Perfect Storm* moment. An occupational benefit of being an actor, Elijah muses, is letting movies define the missing images in his life. Elijah’s mind-ramble is abruptly interrupted. The soft body next to him in the back seat of the limo is demanding attention. It has taken Elijah awhile to get used to softness again, to breasts, to talking after sex. Franka demands consideration, needs constant vigilance. A great night isn’t a six pack, a porno and a shag. Screwing her brains out doesn’t cheer her up. Elijah has never told her to fuck off, shut up, never called her a shithead, never threatened to rip her balls off if she didn’t finish blowing him right *now*. But he does like Franka’s softness, her two holes, and he likes the edgy feeling of being with someone female again, never quite sure if punishment or reward waits for him. He brings his head up and is met by lips that are soft and sweet, but not the same kind of soft and sweet that Dom’s are. "Alles good" he kisses in Franka’s hair, butchering both English and German in one short sentence. She whispers little things in his ear, little sound bytes. He doesn’t completely understand them yet, loving and dirty sounds, but his ear is tied to his crotch and her accent makes him hard. Elijah needs to see Dom, misses Dom even while Franka’s fingers scratch down the zipper riding his cock, but Elijah’s not looking forward to coming home. Elijah had a neat and tidy homosexual sticker when he left to film in Vancouver but he’s coming home a mess of things -–bi-sexual, unfaithful, promiscuous-- and his family doesn’t like any of them. Elijah’s coming home with Franka too. She’s the one who peeled off his queer sticker and slapped on the one that said slut. Elijah isn’t gay. He could have spared his family the garbage magazine articles sent anonymously to their inboxes and emails, the knowing stares of friends and strangers. Elijah isn’t gay, his genetic sex taste doesn’t crave men only, he wants to fuck it all. Elijah isn’t faithful either and this bothers his family most. Dom’s so irresistible that Elijah’s mom is fighting for him now. In the beginning it was Elijah’s fight, screams and tears and threats of leaving home. But Dom just slid under everyone’s skin and now Hannah cries confidences on his shoulder and Mom leaves neat piles of Dom’s clean laundry on his dresser. Elijah doesn’t want another fight, doesn’t want to force his family to bend around his sexuality again. Fuck, he doesn’t want them to even *think* about his sexuality again --rimming, fisting, ass fucking-- where does his sister get her questions from. For Franka to be welcome in Elijah’s home, his family will need to forgive Elijah his indiscretions. He wonders whether the potential of a white wedding and biological grandchildren will be enough to smooth Franka’s entry into his family. Like lube for a tight ass, he thinks ruefully. God, he misses Dom’s ass.
* * * He really should have left, made things easier for Elijah with his family. Dom knows it, but he can’t do it, he needs Elijah. Dom needs to be here with him, here where life is familiar, where their smells are mixed up together. Fuck, he misses Elijah. And he misses fucking Elijah too. When did things become so bloody complicated? Dom is pacing past the front window when taxi lights fan across his face. Silhouetted, he sees two people get out the same back door, kiss on the walkway. It’s a kiss that makes Dom hard just watching it, wanting it. The door opens into the dark room and they enter, Dom knows they can’t see him, aren’t expecting him. They close the door, still locked together, hands groping, buttons popping, sweaty throats and chests and breasts shimmering in the moonlight through the window. Elijah locks his chin over Franka’s bare shoulder and Dom sees Elijah’s face, Elijah’s look. Lij’s Lust Look Dom calls it --soft parted lips, blush painted cheeks, dazey eyes half-lidded with passion-- Dom cannot refuse Elijah anything when he plays that look. But the look transitions to surprize when Elijah finally sees him, recognizes him. "Dom, I wasn’t expecting you to be here tonight." "I cancelled my plans, Lij. I had to see you." Dom doesn’t want talk. He shoves between Elijah and Franka, disentangles Elijah from Franka’s body, claims Elijah’s lips. Mine, he thinks, ramming his tongue into Elijah’s mouth, grabbing Elijah’s lips with his teeth. Mine. He feels Elijah push him away, turn him away, and Dom’s mouth is cold and empty until Franka drives her hot tongue into the warmth Elijah left behind. "So glad you were home, Dommie," Elijah rasps into his ear. "Mind if Franka stays with us awhile?" Franka’s hands on Dom’s face, cunt grinding Dom’s crotch, Elijah’s tongue licking Dom’s neck, cock teasing Dom’s ass. Mine, Dom thinks, all mine.
...das end |