Okay. Here goes. This is a PWP – in fact it’s a PPWP – a Pointless Plot, What Plot. But it’s for Elijah’s birthday, so there we go. Now, the link at the bottom of the page will take you to a very similar PWP, but with a different pairing. The one below is Dom/Lijah, the one attached to the link is Sean/Elijah. So why did I do that, you ask yourselves.
Because I wanted to try and show how I see these pairings; the differences between ‘my’ Domlijah, and ‘my’ Seanlijah. It’s surprising how different they turned out, in the end.
So, an amazingly happy birthday to Elijah. May he continue to blossom, and have the life he deserves.
WARNINGS: There is a little bit of blood play in this one, so don't go any further if that squicks you.
Birthday Boy – Domlijah
Don’t know these lovely people. No offence intended or money made
Dom stood quietly in the doorway to the bathroom watching as Elijah ran his hand across his chin, scratching idly. He moved forward, and saw Elijah’s head tilt as he registered the sound. He smiled and wrapped his arms around Elijah’s waist.
"You’re a sight for sore eyes," he said, resting his chin on Elijah’s shoulder and staring at their reflection. "What you doing? You can’t be looking at anything ‘cos you’re not wearing your bins."
"Think I need a shave?" Elijah tilted his head as much as he could and scraped his cheek across Dom’s. "Feel rough to you?"
Dom smiled and then moved one hand from Elijah’s waist to his face, the backs of his fingers tracing the shape of his cheekbone, then running down the strong line of the jaw.
"No," he said finally. "It doesn’t feel rough. Why would you want to shave? It hasn’t been a month since your last one, so it’s not as if it’s necessary or anything."
"You’re a funny man, Dominic. No, really you are." Elijah pulled away. "I expect you’d be worshipped for that sense of humour in some countries." He glanced into the mirror again. "What are you still doing here anyway? Go make breakfast. It’s definitely your turn. And don’t glare at me. You are glaring, aren’t you?" He peered a little closer. "Oh no, sorry. My mistake. Nice to see you smiling."
Dropping an odd half-kiss, half-bite onto Elijah’s shoulder, Dom moved towards the door, watching as Elijah reached over and switched on the shower.
"You’re putting weight on," he said. "Porker. You shouldn’t drink so much."
"You’re getting ruder," Elijah answered blandly. "Wanker. You shouldn’t encourage me."
"All your good looks will vanish into rolls of flab one day, and then who’ll love you?"
Elijah stopped what he was doing, and turned so that he was facing Dominic. He looked so massively hurt that Dominic actually took a step forward, ready to apologise, until he saw the gleam of humour deep in Elijah’s eyes.
"You will," Elijah answered.
Dominic considered not answering, but knew that was never a good plan, not where Elijah was concerned. And anyway, why try and deny the obvious?
"Yeah," he said. "I will."
"Oh." Elijah stopped for a second and then grinned. "Good. You joining me?" He nodded toward the shower. "Could do with someone to scratch my back. I mean wash. Could do with somebody telling me where my back is – you know I can’t see anything until I put my contacts in…"
"Is there some reason for this babble?" Dom leaned against the doorframe.
"Just feeling talkative, that’s all."
"God help the rest of the world, then." Dom pushed himself away from the door and wrapped Elijah in a hug, burying his face in the warmth of his neck, inhaling hugely. "Oh, you smell nice. You smell like bed and sleep and sex."
Elijah laughed quietly and returned the hug, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Dom’s back, pressing himself as close as he could.
"You all right?" Dom asked softly. "You’re being a bit odd."
"How odd?" Elijah let one of his hands slide down Dom’s back, then lower until he was cupping firm flesh. "Odd ‘cos I want to do this?"
"No, that’s nice," Dom murmured, his lips against Elijah’s neck. "You’re not being odd, I didn’t mean it. I feel a possessive moment coming on, though. You ready?"
Elijah laughed again, his fingers cupping and kneading, feeling Dom shift against him. He squeaked slightly when Dom’s arms tightened around his waist, and the next thing he knew his feet were dangling a couple of inches off the floor. "That’s not possessive!" he protested. "That’s you just trying to be manly."
"Okay." Dom let Elijah sink back to the floor. "Bugger me, you’re solid. What’s me being possessive, then?"
"It was what you were doing last night. Now that was nice."
"What, the thing with the ties and the growly voice?" Dom rested his face against Elijah’s shoulder and mock-growled, making Elijah laugh again.
"Go make breakfast," Elijah said after a long minute. "It’s your turn, and I have to shower before all the hot water’s gone."
"Not in the mood for cooking now," Dom protested. "In the mood for going to bed and doing obscene things to you for the rest of the day. And having obscene things done to me. Being both the obscener and the obscenee."
"Now who’s being odd?" Elijah pushed Dom away. "We’ve got stuff to do today. Change the sheets on the bed for a start."
"Okay, I’m going," Dom turned and made his way towards the door, swinging around the frame as he went, winking at Elijah, even though he knew Elijah wouldn’t be able to see him.
*
"Okay, birthday boy, here you go." Dominic pulled out a chair as Elijah entered the kitchen. "Sit down and let me pamper you."
"Aw, and I thought you’d forgotten!" Elijah sat down, keeping an eye open to make sure that Dom didn’t pull the chair away at the last second. "What did you get me? Anything good?"
"You’ve already got all you could want," Dom protested. "which is to say, me." He sat on the table next to Elijah. "So, I’ve made you a disgusting, cholesterol-filled breakfast which you will no doubt love, and then we’re going out with our friends. Our friends we don’t see often enough." He reached out and picked up Elijah’s hand, beginning to trace random patterns on his palm. "Billy and Viggo and the Bean man. They’re all here, and we’re spending all day with them, being a Fellowship. It’s been way too long." He smiled. "Does that work? Is that enough?"
"It’s not a challenge," Elijah said, leaning against Dom’s thigh. "I think that sounds pretty perfect, actually. You’re right, we don’t see them often enough." He laughed. "I think I’m getting old, actually, ‘cos last year I would have wanted to go get smashed somewhere, but – maybe it’s not old, maybe it’s domesticated. I kinda like the thought of just being with you."
"Romantic old sod." Dominic leaned down and kissed Elijah’s forehead. "Eat now, then it’s your turn to do the washing up."
"I wish you wouldn’t speak in this bizarre foreign language. If you mean it’s my turn to do the dishes, why didn’t you just say?" Elijah eyed the plate in front of him and thought seriously about eating some of it, before pushing it away and reaching for his coffee.
"I just did." Dominic glanced at the food and then back at Elijah. "Don’t even think about not eating that, you toad. About time you were introduced to the delights of a bacon sarnie with tomato sauce. Consider it my gift to you."
"Not a half hour ago you told me I was fat," protested Elijah mildly. "Make up what we laughingly like to call your mind."
"I’m just feeding you up so that you become unattractive to the rest of the world, and then my master plan is complete." Dom handed him the sandwich, and Elijah looked at it doubtfully. "What?"
"This looks like a fresh roadkill."
"Eat it, you big nance." Leaning down, Dom took a huge bite of the sandwich, ignoring Elijah’s horrified gaze. "It’s bleedin’ gorgeous. Not unlike my good self." He swallowed. "Not bad at all. And it’s not even real bacon. Couldn’t find any, but this’ll do." He kissed Elijah, who could taste the artificial tang of the ketchup on his lips. He opened his mouth, allowing Dom’s tongue access, and the breakfast was forgotten for a little while, until Dom finally pulled back, his breath slightly ragged and his eyes glazed. Elijah reached up to hold him in place, fingers tangling in long strands of hair.
"Don’t go," he whispered, all joking and teasing abandoned. "Just for a second, okay?"
Dom willingly dipped his head back down, and the kissing continued, Elijah pushed back in his chair as Dom slid off the table and across his lap, his breath hitching even more as he felt Elijah’s hand slide under his t-shirt with an easy familiarity.
"It’d be so easy," he murmured, breaking the kiss, and trailing his lips down the side of Elijah’s face. "Just to stop in all day, stop in bed. I don’t believe how much I fucking want you, sometimes. It shouldn’t be like this still, should it?"
"Why not? It’d better be like this for the next hundred years, or I’m getting a divorce." Elijah tilted his head as Dom’s lips moved further downwards. "Obviously, not from you, because we’re not married, but y’know, the thought’s there." His breath caught on a sharp "oh!" and he felt Dom smile against his neck.
"Eat your roadkill," Dom said, pulling away and climbing off Elijah’s lap. He stood still for a second, making sure Elijah could see exactly how his body was reacting, and then moved away. Elijah, completely hypnotised, raised his hands, cupping the hard flesh, squeezing and stroking, and Dom’s hips swayed forward.
"Don’t want to," Elijah said softly, eyes locking with Dom’s. "Want this instead." Deft fingers unfastened zips and buttons, and Dom swallowed as he stared at Elijah’s expression, the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips as he pulled Dom’s cock free of jeans and boxers, the way his nostrils twitched as he inhaled the scent of sex, the way his eyes slid away from hard flesh and back up to meet Dom’s gaze, and the way he slowly, slowly moved his head forward and took Dom in, never even blinking.
"Fuck…" Dom whispered, tearing his own gaze away from that of Elijah so that he could watch in wide-eyed fascination as his cock vanished between pouting lips. Elijah’s mouth had been one of the first things he had ever noticed; lying in bed in New Zealand, hard cock in his hand, he would fantasise about that mouth, wrapping around him, wet and warm, and so very, very perfect.
But the fantasy had never measured up to the reality, and now, as he moved his hips slightly, pushing further into the warm wetness, he groaned again, hands reaching out to rest on Elijah’s shoulders, his whole body leaning forward as he tried to lock his knees.
He felt, rather than saw, Elijah’s hand move, coming to rest first on the denim of his jeans where it still covered his pelvis, and then shifting, sliding inside, and the noise Dom made then, as small, clever fingers gripped his balls, rolling and squeezing, really didn’t have a name.
There was no noise for a while after that, or at least no words. Just the wet smack of Dom’s cock moving in and out of Elijah’s mouth, and the gasping breath of one or the other or both of them as they strove toward the ending they both wanted.
It was only when Elijah moved his hand again, sliding further back, behind Dom’s balls, and pressed on the delicate flesh he found there, that Dom’s back arched, his hands moving to grip handfuls of dark hair as he shuddered his way to orgasm. He knew he was gripping Elijah’s hair too tightly, was probably hurting him, but no power on earth could persuade him to let go.
Elijah milked him until he was sore, only stopping when Dom finally jerked his hips in a familiar signal, and then he sat back, pulling away from Dom’s grip, smiling in satisfaction as he licked his lips.
"Now that," he said. "Was what I call a protein shake."
Dom, knees still weak, could only nod, and watch with wide eyes as Elijah casually unfastened his own jeans, his hand sliding inside, his eyes half closing. Dom watched until Elijah was shifting in his seat, hand beginning to move faster, and then he dropped to his knees and took over, pulling Elijah’s jeans down and out of the way, and practically swooping down to take in the hard, almost-purple head of Elijah’s cock. He heard the muffled half-sob, half-gasp of relief just before he bent his head and got to work.
*
Elijah had a wonderful birthday. The best kind; filled with laughter and friends and pointless, silly gifts.
"It’s a what?" he had asked at one point, holding something that looked very doubtful.
"A haggis," Billy had explained patiently for the fifth time in as many minutes. "A great delicacy. You’re born very close to Burns Night, did you know that? You should have one of these for your birthday supper."
"Where would he put the candles?" Dom had asked, and they had all collapsed in fits of beer-induced hysteria, so Elijah, perhaps fortunately, never discovered the ingredients of a haggis. He had put it by the side of his chair, after asking if it was likely to run away, and it had joined the rest of the foolish presents – a map of Sheffield with Bramall Lane highlighted, appropriately enough, in red and white., a guide to the best pubs in Glasgow, and a large slab of something called Kendal Mint Cake which, Sean had assured him, was the greatest thing ever. Elijah had prodded it doubtfully, and then made a mental note to never touch it again, unless he ever had to fight off an intruder.
It had been well into the next morning when they had all finally said their farewells, with much mock-crying (and perhaps a few genuine tears), and hugging, along with promises to meet up again soon. The next day, they decided, would be good. Billy, although invited back to their house, had tactfully declined, since he had spent a good deal of the evening watching as Elijah and Dom groped each other in what they fondly thought was a subtle fashion; he really didn’t want to be on the other side of the wall to that, and so he had clung ferociously to Sean, who, laughing uproariously, had agreed to let him stay.
*
"They’re so nice," Elijah half-sang, half-sighed as he watched Dom struggle with the doorkey. "Lovely, lovely people. Happy birthday to me."
"That was yesterday now," Dom said. "What the fuck is wrong with this poxy, stupid, poxy key?" He took a step backward and squinted. "Is this the right house?"
"Yes, my lovely, lovely Dom. It’s the wrong key, but it’s the right house. You’re trying to open the door with the car key. If you pressed that little fob thing, I expect the whole house would go ‘blip’ and flash three times."
Dom stopped what he was doing and looked at Elijah, who was now smiling in a suitably beatific fashion.
"You are so pissed," Dom said. "You are so pissed that you are on your way back to sober. God, I love you when you’re like this. You’re so – compliant."
"That sounds like something you should be if you’re in ‘Star Trek’." Elijah pushed himself away from the wall and held out his hand. "You’re in just as bad a way as I am, you just think you’re hiding it better. Gimme."
"Go on then, smartarse." Dom handed over the key and stood back, ready to smirk. He could feel his face muscles actually freeze when Elijah, after the merest struggle, opened the door, standing back with a look of triumph on his face.
"Coming in?" he asked, tripping over the threshold. "Look out, somebody came in during the night and built a step there."
Proving that he wasn’t completely out of it, Dom managed to close the door on only the third attempt, and then followed the sounds of mayhem Elijah was causing in the kitchen.
"Doing?" he asked.
"Coffee. Hungry. Starving, in fact."
"Coffee’s not food, idiot." Dom moved further into the kitchen as Elijah began to randomly open and close cupboard doors.
"I know that, thank you, my dearest. What I meant was, I’m going to make some coffee, and I am also hungry so I am going to prepare something to eat. Would you care to join me?"
Dom covered the remaining ground between them, and wrapped his arms around Elijah, his teeth attaching firmly to a neat lobe, making Elijah’s head tilt back. "Should I take that as a yes?"
"Go on, then," Dom agreed, releasing Elijah. "I’m going to watch you. This should be good."
He pulled himself onto the kitchen table, watching with a perky, bright eyed interest as Elijah moved around the kitchen.
"Stop it," Elijah said finally. "You’re being really irritating. Stop being so eager. You’re just waiting for me to fuck up anyway, and put the sugar in the coffee pot or something. Which I won’t."
"Of course you won’t, oh mature one," agreed Dom. "What’s that?"
"Soup, apparently," Elijah declared after squinting at the label. "I can do soup." He scrabbled ineffectually at the ring pull for a moment, before swearing and reaching for a knife. Dom was almost expecting it when the knife slipped and slashed across Elijah’s hand, causing Elijah to swear loudly and drop both can and knife on the floor.
"Dickhead," Dom said, sliding off the table. "Shove it under the cold tap."
Elijah did as he was told, holding his injured hand under the stream of cold water, watching in fascination as red water swirled down the drain.
"That fucking hurt," he said conversationally, leaning slightly against Dom, who was now standing next to him. "I’m never cooking again."
"Well, you never cooked before, so what’s new?" Dom pulled Elijah’s hand away from the stream of water, and studied it closely. It was still bleeding, but sluggishly, the sliced flesh oozing now, rather than pouring. "You okay? Shall I see if I can find you a plaster or something?"
"No, it’s fine," answered Elijah. "Just fucking hurts."
"Don’t think it’s too deep. D’you want me to make the soup?"
"No, not hungry now. Fucking hurts."
"Yeah, I’ve got that, you big girl." Dominic grinned at Elijah’s attempted pout, and then stilled.
"What?" Elijah asked, slightly doubtfully. "What are you thinking?"
"Want me to kiss it better?" Dom asked. Before Elijah could frame a proper reply, he leaned forward and licked slowly and carefully along the whole length of the cut. He tasted the copper in Elijah’s blood, and the mixed grime and sweat of the best part of a day and night spent outside, and he heard Elijah’s breathing stop.
"Like that?" he said softly, his lips still brushing the cut flesh. "Like this?" He did it again, this time in reverse, with the underside of his tongue wet against the flesh.
"Oh…" was all Elijah managed before Dom straightened up and kissed him, sharing the taste of blood and sweat and grime. Elijah’s mouth opened willingly and he yielded completely as Dom pushed him backwards against the kitchen counter. The submission was so total and surprising that for a second Dom was thrown out of the moment and he pulled back, one hand coming up to cup Elijah’s face, his thumb teasing the corner of his mouth. As he watched, Elijah raised his cut hand and licked it himself, making Dom’s own breathing falter as he watched the faint red tinge appear on Elijah’s tongue. This time when they kissed, the copper tang was stronger between them, and something in Dom responded, pushing Elijah harder against the counter, one leg forcing its way between Elijah’s thighs.
Breaking the kiss, Dom tore at Elijah’s shirt, his lips tracing over pale flesh, moving down to latch onto a nipple, making Elijah arch slightly, whispering something that could have been a name, or could have been nothing at all. Dom teased Elijah until the flesh was firm beneath his tongue, between his teeth, then moved down, his lips never leaving flesh.
It wasn’t until he felt a hand in his hair, pulling insistently, that he looked up. Elijah, wide-eyed, gazed down at him, and Dom’s cock responded to that look. It almost burst through his jeans when Elijah once again raised his bloody hand and licked it. Dom could see small sharp teeth worrying at the torn flesh, keeping the blood flowing, and he dropped to his knees, hands resting on Elijah’s thighs while he waited to see what would happen next.
When Elijah lowered his hand, Dom raised his head, reaching for the blood and the flesh like some kind of wild animal, his neck stretching until he thought he could hear the bones creaking. When Elijah let him taste the blood again, he growled, his tongue lapping ferociously, wanting to taste it all, wanting Elijah’s blood in him. The blood flow was slowing and, frustrated, Dom bit down, making Elijah flinch and cry out, but he didn’t move his hand.
Finally pulling back, Dom rested his head against Elijah’s belly.
"What?" Elijah asked, breathless.
"What are we doing?" Dom whispered.
"Don’t think." Elijah pulled Dom to his feet. "Just fucking do, okay."
It wasn’t a question, and Dom reached out again for a kiss, harder still, and deeper, his hands clawing down Elijah’s back, pulling the shirt away, desperate to get to the flesh beneath. Elijah shrugged back just enough to let the shirt fall to the ground, and then he was back, wrapped around Dom, his hips moving in an insistent rhythm, one hand between them as he fumbled with Dom’s jeans.
Just do. The words echoed in Dom’s mind, even as his body reacted to Elijah’s clever and familiar touch. Just fucking do.
Still carried along on some strange, primeval tide, Dom pulled away completely, leaving Elijah scrabbling at thin air, mouth still open, eyes half closed and completely dark. Not allowing either of them time to think, Dom spun Elijah round and slammed him against the counter, hard enough to hurt, maybe hard enough to bruise, but other than a grunt, Elijah didn’t protest. Dom watched as his hands moved across the surface of the counter, looking for something to hold onto, and the smears of blood he left behind went straight to his groin.
"Fucking hell," he panted as he attempted to unfasten both his own jeans and Elijah’s, "you fucking slay me, did you know that. You kill me."
"Come on," Elijah said, his head sinking towards the counter. "Comeoncomeonecomeon…"
Finally getting Elijah’s jeans out of the way, Dom took a second to get his own pushed down only as far as was needed.
"What the fuck are we going to use?" he said in dismay. "I can’t…"
"Here, this!" Elijah’s hand shot out and pushed a bottle towards Dom, who, even in the desperate state he was, still found time to laugh, albeit breathlessly, as he popped the top of the oil he usually used for cooking.
He stopped laughing as soon as he slid home and watched as Elijah’s head shot back up, tilting so far backwards that Dom could see the expression on his face. Mixed pain and pleasure, and something so – desperate – that without thinking, Dom reacted with a huge thrust of his hips, sending Elijah back into the counter, his pelvis colliding with the sharp edges and making him cry out again, this time in pain, but Dom was too far gone to stop, and even if he had been able to, it was doubtful if Elijah would have been very pleased.
So instead, he drove forward again, and again, and Elijah braced himself so that he didn’t hit the counter, and Dom could see, through the sweat stinging his eyes, Elijah’s hand, the cut re-opened and bleeding, the blood mixing in bizarre patterns with the sweat and the oil smearing the counter top, and something made him put his hands on Elijah’s back, pushing him down into the mess on the counter, watching as Elijah’s back muscles rippled and moved with each thrust.
"Not so fucking innocent now … are we?" he said brokenly. "Not an innocent little boy missing his mummy."
"Never … fuck! Never was that," Elijah said, the words being forced out of him in time with Dom’s thrusts. "Wanted you … wanted this from the first time I saw you."
"Then you should have asked … sooner." With a final powerful slam forward of his hips, Dom came, his head dropping back as his mouth opened on a silent scream of … something.
When he was able to focus again, he found himself lying across Elijah’s back, the breath whistling in his lungs and the blood pounding in his ears. He could feel a movement against his hips, and realised what Elijah was doing. He reached around the body beneath him and put his hand over Elijah’s, and after a few hard strokes, he felt the warmth and wetness seeping over his hand, and smiled into Elijah’s neck as he felt the shuddering subside.
Finally, Dom slid to the floor, pulling Elijah with him, and they sat silently, Dom’s fingers resting over the developing bruises on Elijah’s flesh, an apology forming on his lips until Elijah looked up and read the message in his eyes.
"Fucking incredible." Elijah spoke before Dom had a chance. "Jesus, Dom, you are just the best, you know?"
Dom smiled and lifted Elijah’s hand to his lips. He kissed it briefly before struggling to his feet, reaching down to pull Elijah up with him.
"Come on," he said, holding Elijah close for a second. "We need to get that hand seen to. All kinds of stuff has got into that cut in the last twenty minutes or so." He kissed Elijah’s cheek and smiled at the softness in his eyes. The way they were, the way they spoke to each other, covered an ocean of feeling, and sometimes, just sometimes, it was nice to be reminded of it.
"Come on," he said again.
The End
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