Title: Building Bridges

Pairing: Dom/Elijah

Disclaimer: Don’t know these people. No offence intended or money made.

Very damaged Elijah – mention of nasty things in his past. This is the follow up to Don’t Look Back.

"For God’s sake, Dom, you look wonderful, will you just stop fucking preening?" Billy lay back on the bed and watched as Dom leaned forward, checking his appearance in the mirror. "And yes, you still have teeth, and no they haven’t fallen out. Will you just go?"

"I’m not meeting him for another forty-five minutes." Dom checked his profile. "I’ve got time to change, haven’t I?"

"Yes, you’ve got time. But you don’t have any more clothes. You have gone through your entire wardrobe. I’m surprised you haven’t ripped mine off me as well - and get that look off your face right now!" Billy kicked various items of clothing off the bed. "Bugger off."

"All right, I’m going. Make sure you lock the door when you leave."

"No, I thought I’d leave the door wide open for any burglar who was passing by. Yes, Dom, I’ll lock the door. Bugger off."

"About time you learned another word," Dom said, doing his best to sound prim, and failing miserably as he unfastened another button on his shirt.

"What word do you think I should learn?" Billy asked the ceiling. "How about ‘Elijah’? Oh no, you’ve taken that one. Maybe I could learn a whole sentence, like, ‘Oh, Elijah, shag me senseless.’" He laughed. "Although you probably hope that one’s taken as well."

"Oh… bugger off."

Billy laughed. "I'm rising above that remark," he said. "On the grounds that you're just a lovesick fool." He paused. "Oh, I said rising above, did you hear? God, I'm funny. Rising above. Heh."

"Usually, I'd agree with you," Dom said, finally turning away from the mirror. "This is really not one of those times though. You are supposed to be the supportive friend. Fucking support!"

"Yay! Go Dom!" Billy paused. "That supportive enough?"

Dom walked over to the bed, kicking clothing out of the way as he went. He only stopped when he was looming over the bed. "You do know what I'm going to do now, don't you?" he asked, his mouth beginning to twitch.

"If you kiss me, I'll punch you, and if you punch me, I'll ... oh." He broke off as Dom leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Lock the door when you leave, Scottish git."

*

"Hey," Elijah smiled as he opened the car door. "Don’t you look just - super."

"So do you," Dom said, feeling vaguely dizzy and giggly. He wasn’t lying; Elijah looked as if he had just stepped out of some glamorous magazine - sleek and gorgeous in black trousers and dark blue shirt.

"Drive," Elijah said. "I’m starving."

He was also terrified. An hour spent on the phone to Sean trying to think of an excuse to get out of the date had resulted in nothing but a semi-argument as Elijah fought against Sean’s determined good nature.

"I can’t do this!" he had finally said, as close to a tantrum as he had ever reached. "I’m gonna make a fool of myself, I just know I am."

"You won’t," Sean had replied. "Just be yourself, and he’ll love you."

"Hah," Elijah had answered with an attempt at a hollow laugh. "He’ll run screaming for the hills if I did that."

"Don’t be difficult, little bro, and go and make yourself beautiful." Sean had laughed softly. "You’ll be okay, I promise. Call me tomorrow and tell me how it went."

"I will." Elijah had given up, and started to get ready.

And had then spent another thirty minutes on the phone to Ian.

"You are a beautiful, brave boy," Ian had said. "And you are making marvellous progress. Dominic adores you, and would never dream of hurting you."

"I know," Elijah had admitted. "I’m just … scared."

"Don’t be." Ian’s voice had been soothing and soft. "You have nothing to be frightened of."

*

Dom was bursting to tell Elijah about the conversation he had had with Sean. It had been squirmingly embarrassing for both of them, but Sean had been dogged.

"I know that you don’t want to hear about this, but I just need to talk to you about, well, sex," Sean had said, his neck beginning to turn red.

"No, you really don’t. I’ve done it before."

"But not with Elijah, and I need to explain something to you."

"Oh, you really, really don’t," Dom had said, feeling his ears beginning to burn. "Sean, we all know that you have the hots for Elijah, but there’s no way that you’re vicariously shagging him." He was rather pleased that he had managed to drag up a word like 'vicariously'; he just hoped it was the right one.

"Shut up." Sean had scowled. "My relationship with Elijah is my business. Listen, when you get around to having - sex - that is, assuming you do at some point - you have it - he’s going to want to, which is to say, give you -," Sean ran his finger around the collar of his shirt.

"What?" Dom had forgotten to be annoyed, and was heading for amused.

Taking a deep breath, Sean had plunged on. "I can’t tell you the reason for this, because that’s up to him. But don’t let him, er, blow you. Don’t let that be the first thing you do." He swallowed. "If you want to do that to him, that’s fine. But don’t let him do it to you first. And don’t - oh, God - don’t .."

"Say it," Dom had said. "Christ, Sean, you’re going to be crap at telling your kids the facts of life."

"Don’t fuck him," Sean had muttered. "Not first. It’s important."

"Why?"

"I can’t tell you, I just can’t. But please, Dom, please … remember what I’m telling you."

"Why are you telling me this?" Dom had asked. "My sex life doesn't really have anything to do with you, does it? So why aren't I allowed to touch your precious Elijah?"

"Don't," Sean had almost scowled, but caught himself. "I'm trying to help, that's all. Help you both. I'm sorry if it's annoyed you, sorry if I've said anything out of place, but it's important."

"Tell you what, Sean," Dom had begun to move away. "Keep your nose out of my business. I'll take care of Elijah, and I'll take care of myself. Whatever we do, we'll keep it private." He had turned his back on Sean and walked briskly away, angry and confused. Sean may have an amazing relationship with Elijah, but there was no way that he was going to muscle in on this part of it.

*

And so, at least to start with, there were four people at the table as Elijah and Dom started dinner, and it was horrible, and awkward, and Elijah was considering making a run for it, finding some guy and letting the pain take him away, when Dom slammed down his fork, with slightly more force than was entirely necessary, and said,

"Right."

"Right, what?" Elijah said, startled out of his dark thoughts.

"We’re mates, right?"

"Sure," Elijah replied, still unsure.

"Then, let’s just go back to being mates. Let’s stop being out on a date, and let’s just be two mates out having something to eat, okay?" He waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever happens, happens." He grinned, the silly, lop-sided grin that had started to make Elijah’s inside crunch, and raised his eyebrows. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Elijah answered. "Okay."

"So, why have you got spinach? You hate spinach."

"I know," Elijah agreed. "I thought it was cool."

"Tit."

"Wanker."

And off they went, happily sparring with each other, eating the food off each other’s plates and talking about their fellow diners. It was fun, and Elijah felt himself begin to relax. Maybe, just maybe, there was some hope for him.

*

"It was fun," Elijah said quietly, as the car pulled to a halt. "Thanks."

"Yeah. D’you think it turned into a date, after all?" Dom asked, gazing straight ahead.

"I think so." Elijah could feel the doubt beginning to gnaw at him. Was he supposed to offer payback now? Ian, Sean and the shrink had all told him not to ever think like that, but what was he supposed to do? Was ‘thanks’ enough? He heard Dom shift in his seat, and taking a deep breath, turned to face him.

To his surprise, Dom reached out and took his hands, holding them, running his thumbs over Elijah’s knuckles.

He has lovely hands, Elijah found himself thinking. Gentle.

He’s too good for me, thought Dom. Where do I go from here?

"Could we try again, do you think?" he said finally. "For the date thing?"

Elijah half smiled and ducked his head. "Yeah," he whispered. "Please."

"Good. I’d like that." Dom kept hold of Elijah’s hands for another minute, before squeezing them gently and then releasing them. "I’ll be a gentleman and say goodnight here."

Elijah didn’t raise his head, but he nodded.

"Are you all right?" Dom ducked his head to try and see Elijah’s face.

"Course." Finally, Elijah looked up and smiled. "It was fun, nice." He pulled a face. "I sound like a girl, I’m sorry. And now I have to say something else that sounds seriously girly."

"Go on, then."

"Call me tomorrow?"

Dom laughed, and the atmosphere between them lightened, and he laughed again when Elijah hastily added, "But not too early."

"Better than that," Dom said. "I’m going shopping with Bills, so why don’t you come with us? He has to go somewhere in the afternoon, and then it would just be us, and we could buy up the town."

"Okay," Elijah agreed. "I’ve got to go see the dentist kinda late morning, but just give me a call and we’ll find each other." It was an outright lie; he was going to see the shrink, but Dom didn’t need to know about that. He reached out and opened the door. "Night."

"G’night, Lij," Dom said, and sat quietly, watching as Elijah let himself into the house, closing the door softly behind him.

*

When he woke the next morning, Elijah revelled in the feeling of comfort and warmth and, before his mind kicked in, peace. He was proud that he had slept straight through the night, without having to ring Sean or Ian for help. They were his comforters, the rocks he could lean on, but he knew he had to get through this himself. Part of him didn’t want to need anybody, but there was something inside that was beginning to ask if it was such a bad thing, having people care about him.

The ringing of the phone pushed him into full wakefulness, and he rolled over and scrabbled on the floor until he found the handset.

"Elijah?"

"Hi, Ian," Elijah smiled to himself, slightly triumphant that Ian had called him, not the other way around.

"You sound happy." Ian tucked the phone under his chin as he leafed through the daily paper. "Am I to take it that all went well?"

"It was great, thanks. I’m seeing him again today, you know, just with Billy and stuff, at least to start with, but maybe later, who knows?"

"Good." Ian smiled. "I’m so pleased. And what about this morning? Is Sean going with you?"

"Yes, he won’t let me go on my own," Elijah laughed. "Thinks I’m going to run away, or disappear down a dark alleyway." The second he said it, he regretted it, but Ian, who was treading the same learning curve as Elijah, ignored it.

"So, do you think it would be wise to get out of bed? It’s later than you think; but then, it always is." Ian’s voice softened. "It’s a step in the right direction, Elijah. Well done."

"Yeah," Elijah said. "Feels like there’s a long way to go, though."

"We’ll get there," Ian promised. "Now, go and make yourself presentable."

*

Sean never went into the sessions with Elijah, of course. His task, as he saw it, was to make sure Elijah got there on time, and to be there to support him, if it was needed. Sometimes, Elijah would come out of the session quiet and sullen, shunning all contact; on others, although still quiet, he would almost demand contact, needing the solidity of Sean’s presence.

Today, he had hugged Sean warmly before going into he session, and stepped back. Sean had been unable to hold back a smile of sheer relief. For the first time in a long time, Elijah’s eyes weren’t haunted or shielded. What he saw shining out at him was, he hoped, the beginning of a happiness that would drive out all that misery, and all those memories.

"So last night went well?"

Elijah had nodded and stepped back, his face relaxed.

"Good," Sean had said. "I am so pleased, Lij. You really have no idea."

He had meant it. He just hoped that Dom had more patience than it appeared on the surface. He was going to need it.

He was jolted out of his thoughts as the door opened, and Elijah walked out, slightly subdued, as he always was after a visit, but otherwise calm. His expression was still open and calm, and Sean smiled at the sight.

"Thanks for waiting," Elijah said, as he always did.

"No problem," Sean answered, as he always did.

They left the office, and stood on the pavement, blinking slightly in the bright light. It was heading towards noon, and their usual habit would be to go to one of their favourite cafes and have a coffee, talking about any stupid thing that came into their heads.

Today, however, Elijah shifted slightly and then half-smiled.

"What?" Sean asked.

"Dom wants to meet me this afternoon. We’re going shopping with Billy, and then I think Billy’s invented some kind of fantasy appointment so that we can spend a bit of time together." He paused. "Oh, no, sorry! You’re coming with me, obviously, and then you could maybe keep Bill company."

Moving closer, Sean put his arm around Elijah, and hugged him close.

"No, I’m not coming with you, because it’s the last place I should be. I’ll go off somewhere and be worthy, and you can go and enjoy yourself."

"Stop making yourself sound so middle-aged," Elijah said, part of his mind amazed at how much comfort he could draw from the simple nearness of Sean. "I didn’t mean to make it sound like you were being asked along as an afterthought. You know that you’re always wanted, wherever I go."

"I know," Sean replied. "And that’s fine. But you have to move on, don’t you? After all, I can’t always be around, you know." He dropped a kiss on Elijah’s forehead. "Doesn’t mean I won’t be around whenever you need me."

"I’ll always need you," replied Elijah. "I’m not better, you know. But.." he shrugged. "Maybe there’s a chance." He looked up, squinting. "Do you think?"

"I know," Sean assured him. "I’ll talk to you later, I guess. Enjoy yourself." He paused.

"What?" Elijah asked, nudging him. "What are you thinking?"

"Don’t push it," Sean said finally. "Don’t move too quickly."

"You mean don’t let him fuck me?" Elijah smiled, and rubbed his face against Sean’s shoulder.

"You don’t owe him anything," Sean said, not answering directly. "You don’t owe anybody anything."

"I owe you, and I owe Ian," Elijah said, pulling away and shaking his head. "I wish I knew how to pay you both back."

"You stop selling yourself short, and you find somebody to love you. Somebody who’s worthy of you, never mind you feeling as if you owe them. Lij, to deserve you … well, whoever thinks they’re your equal has a lot to learn."

"Oh, you’re biased."

"Maybe," Sean agreed. "But I know what I know."

"I’d better go," Elijah said after a minute. "Sean … you know, right?"

"Of course I do," Sean said. "And it’s mutual."

He watched as Elijah walked quickly away.

*

"And he was happy?" Ian asked, putting a cup of coffee down in front of Sean.

"Very," Sean said. "I feel like I’m watching someone learn to fly."

"That’s a very odd thing to say." Ian sat down opposite him. "Very nearly a mixed metaphor. I feel more like a Fairy Godmother. But then, I would."

Sean laughed, taking a sip of his drink. "He does seem better, but I see him sometimes, and he’s … distant. His heart’s breaking inside. I wish he didn’t hate himself so much."

"Ah, that’s something that nobody can cure him of," Ian answered soberly. "He’ll just have to learn it about himself."

"But there’s nothing in him to hate, and he doesn’t understand that!" Sean finally let a little of his frustration show. "Sometimes, I just want to shout it at him. Why doesn’t he see how the people around him feel about him?"

Ian shrugged. "Because he won’t let himself, I suspect is the simple answer. We don’t know what’s going on inside his brain, Sean. We don’t know how he sees himself."

"Yes, we do," Sean argued. "We know that he sees himself as useless, and worthless, and only good for being used." He ran his hand through his hair. "I wish we could do more for him."

"I think we’re doing all we can." Ian picked up his own drink and took a sip. "Sean, if you would take the advice of an old man, we cannot do any more than support him, and love him. He is a dear boy, but he has dug himself a pit of utter self-hatred. In the end, it will take more than we have to offer to drag him all the way out of it." He paused. "But, to continue the analogy, he has, perhaps, begun to climb the sides of that pit, and his head is approaching the surface. We must be there to offer him a drink and a good wash."

"Do you think Dom’s the one to help him?" Sean asked. "I hate to say it, but I have my doubts. Whoever finally helps him will have to be so patient with him. They are going to have to take so much time over him… is Dom the man to do that?"

"I think Dominic is amazingly taken with Elijah," Ian said, choosing his words carefully. "And I hope that the way he feels will help him - not to rush things, shall we say." He paused. "There is, after all, nothing we can do about it. It certainly isn’t our place to tell Elijah who he should and shouldn’t see."

"Except that’s just what we have been doing," Sean protested. "Telling him who he shouldn’t see."

"Don’t be foolish, Sean, it doesn’t become you," Ian said gravely. "It is not the same thing, and you know it." He took another sip of his drink. "I think we are in danger of underestimating our young friend. He has come so far, it would be churlish of us to think that he will fall now. I think we must just be here, and hope that he doesn’t need us."

Sean nodded, but didn’t answer. He couldn’t seem to still the voice of doubt in his mind.

*

But Elijah didn’t call that night, and when Sean saw him in Feet the day after, he still looked calm, if a little tired. He lifted his head as Sean walked in, and smiled warmly, and Sean smiled in return, then glanced over his head and looked at Dom. He looked tired as well, but there was something else about him that Sean couldn’t place for a second, then he realised. Stillness. There was a calm there that was new, and some of the knots in Sean’s guts loosened slightly

"Hey," he said to the room in general. "Okay?"

There was a muted, it’s-too-early-to-be-coherent chorus of "mmm’s", and then silence. Elijah obviously wasn’t in the mood for music today.

Sean sat back in his chair and rested his feet on the stool in front of him, casting tiny glances at Elijah from the corner of his eye, trying to be as discreet as possible.

"Stop it, man," Elijah said finally, his voice more amused than anything, and Sean felt the knots loosen even further. He sounded relaxed, and half-asleep, as if somebody had just dragged him from a deep, warm bed. Sean looked at Dom, but he was so taken up with staring at Elijah as well, that he never noticed.

"Is there some kind of soap opera going on here that I’m not part of?" Billy asked plaintively. "There are hundreds of meaningful glances being passed around here, and none of them coming my way. Dom, can I ask you a question?" He paused, long enough for Dom to blink and nod. "Have you slept with Lij yet?"

"What?? No!" Dom looked horrified and vaguely Victorian. Elijah ducked his head, but didn’t tense up. Sean, more tense than he realised, moved as if he were planning to stand up - why, he had no idea. It was only the fact that his foot was held in a firm grip that kept him where he was.

"What sort of question is that?" he said, glaring at Billy. "That’s just so personal!"

"You wanted to ask it," Billy said. "You were just going to try and be all tactful about it, weren’t you? Well, it’s too fucking early, and I’m too fucking tired to be tactful. So you’ve got the answer to your question, and maybe everybody can stop looking at each other, and just get on, okay?"

"All right," said Dom soothingly. "Who rattled your cage?"

"Nobody," Billy huffed. "I just don’t like all this sneaking around. Just say it, Sean, all right?" He glared for a second, but then relented, and scratched at his head. "I’m sorry, lads. I’m just tired and a bit hungover. But that was what you were thinking, isn’t it?"

Sean, seeing that no damage had been done, relaxed slightly, and smiled, offering his own apology. But he kept a very close eye on Elijah for the rest of the day.

*

"Come on, Lijah! Why so modest? We all know what you’re trying to hide, and it don’t take both hands to cover it!"

Elijah struggled to wake, but the voices held him down.

"Saw you today with that sister of yours. Time for payback, Lijah. You have to thank me for not touching her."

And he could feel the hands on him, touching him, gentle at first, but he knew that wouldn’t last.

"Open up, Lij. Come on, let’s use that pretty mouth of yours. Come on…"

And he was choking and coughing, and there was no air to breathe….

Elijah came awake with a start, sitting up in bed, and ripping the bedclothes away from his body, letting the cool air wash over him.

"Fuck," he said softly, resting his forehead against his drawn-up knees. "Fuck it all." He could feel his heart pounding too hard, feel the sweat running down his back, and, worst of all, the sob or the scream trapped at the back of his throat.

"No more," he said, a little louder. "No more of this, d’you hear me? No fucking more!"

"Lijah…."

"No!" He threw himself out of bed, almost tripping up in his haste, and ran downstairs, turning all the lights on as he went. He didn’t like shadows, not when the dreams came to visit. He crouched against the wall in the living room, the house so brightly-lit that part of his mind decided it could probably be seen from space, and raked his fingers through his hair, pulling hard enough to make his eyes water.

"It’s not what Billy said," he finally muttered. "Dom will wait until I let him - he doesn’t want me to pay him back…"

Pay him back for what? For being nice to a piece of shit like you? For caring?

"He doesn’t think like that, he said so…"

Of course he thinks like that, it’s all you’re good for. You’re a good fuck, face it.

Half-crawling, half-stumbling, Elijah crossed the room until he found the phone. Except it was just the base, not the handset. He had been on the phone earlier and had thrown the handset down when he had finished the call. But where had he thrown it? He looked on the floor, as calmly as he could. Nothing.

"Oh, please," he whispered. "Where are you?"

Becoming more frantic with each passing second, he looked again on the floor, throwing already-discarded clothes aside in the hope of finding it. Still nothing.

The breath beginning to whistle in his lungs as he tried to damp down his panic, he knelt up and looked on the seats of the couch and the chairs. No.

Desperately, he dug his hands down the side of each of the cushions, and finally the back of them, almost giving up until his fingers brushed the cold plastic of the handset.

"Oh, Jesus…" He dialled the number as quickly as he could, and didn’t begin to relax until Ian’s grave tones sounded in his ear.

"It’s me," he said. "I’m … help me."

"What’s wrong, Elijah?" Ian was immediately alert, and obviously worried.

"I’m … I dreamed. Ian, I’m one step away from running out of here and finding somebody to fuck me past this… my head is so screwed up."

"Why? What did you dream about?"

"Nothing, not really. Just voices." Elijah lay on the sofa and curled up as reaction began to set in and the adrenaline faded from his body.

"You know, don’t you, that the answer doesn’t lie out there with a stranger?"

"Yeah, yeah I know, really I do. But it feels so complicated now. He likes me, Ian, really likes me."

"And how do you feel about him?"

Elijah smiled, forgetting Ian couldn’t see it. "I like him. I like feeling that somebody cares, y’know? But I don’t want to let him down, don’t want him to expect stuff from me."

"What stuff?" Ian asked. "I suspect that he is very happy to go at whatever pace you set."

"At some point, I’m going to have to tell him, aren’t I? And he’ll just leave me, I know he will. I’m not worth it, and he’ll find out, and … I don’t know if I can handle that."

"Elijah, listen to me … Dominic cares about you. He will accept everything about you, because everything that has happened to you, good or bad, has made you what you are today, and that is what he has fallen in love with. Yes, you will have to tell him one day, but not until you’re ready."

"What if I’m never ready?"

"I think you will be, one day," Ian promised. "And you’ll know when that time is here." He paused. "Elijah, I’m not the person you need to be talking to about this, you know that. You need to be speaking to Dr Henderson."

"I don’t want to," Elijah said, holding the phone closer to his ear. "I just wanted to hear a friendly voice. I’m okay."

"Would you like me to come over? Or telephone Sean?"

Elijah laughed, barely a whisper of sound. "You would, wouldn’t you, you crazy old man? You’d drag yourself out of your warm bed and come and look after the screwup."

"You’re nothing of the kind. You’re my friend," Ian said. "And by the way, will you stop calling me old? I may be developing a complex."

"How about just crazy, then?"

"Oh, that’s fine."

Elijah didn’t speak for a moment, listening to Ian’s calm breathing, trying to match his own to the pace.

"Take me to bed, Elijah," Ian finally said, the words a code that only he, Ian and Sean understood.

Obediently, Elijah carried the phone back upstairs, setting it down as he made the bed as presentable as he could, then slipping between the cool cotton sheets. He picked up the handset again.

"Hi."

"Hi, yourself. Now, settle down, and close your eyes…"

Ian had learned from Sean how to talk Elijah into sleep. And the other thing he had picked up all by himself was not to hang up, even though he could tell Elijah was asleep, because if he woke up again, he would need to hear a voice he knew. And so Ian made sure the line between them stayed open all night.

*

Another day in Hobbiton, and Sean sat quietly and watched as Dom and Billy tormented Elijah with another of their ridiculous, invented games. They had an almost telepathic closeness, and could produce new rules faster than Elijah could assimilate them, with the result that Elijah was always at least one, and sometimes closer to two, steps behind them. Sean knew he should go and be grown up and serious, and rescue Elijah, but a part of him was itching to join in, to tease and laugh, and watch as Elijah grew more and more bemused, until eventually, he would give up and start laughing. He had done it when they had tried to teach him Tig - he had fallen so far behind that he had been in danger of being lapped, and Sean’s enduring memory of that day was Elijah, in full Frodo-gear, flinging his head back, and laughing until he cried. He had been so shrill that he had frightened all the neighbouring wildlife, and Sean had thought that his heart would burst from the simple joy of it all.

He was brought back to the present by a crash and an inventive curse, and glanced over to see Billy flat on his back, glaring at Elijah.

"Bastard! You tripped me!"

"But that’s in the rules. You said so," Elijah said innocently, helping Billy up.

"You’re such a thug, Elijah," Billy said mournfully, although even from where he was sitting, Sean could see the mischief in his eyes. "And you will, of course, pay…"

Only a few weeks ago, a simple comment like that would have made Elijah tense and anxious, but now, he was more relaxed about it, and simply stuck his tongue out. Billy leaped, Elijah shrieked and ran, and before he could blink, Sean had a lapful of hobbit.

"Save me!" Elijah said. "From the nasty, big, bad … oh, scrap that. From the nasty … Nope. Oh, just save me!"

Sean looked up at Billy, who was doing his best to look menacing, but was failing miserably. Dom, who had his hands wrapped in Billy’s cloak, begging him to leave poor Lijah alone, caught Sean’s glance and winked. Sean smiled. Elijah wasn’t the only one who had changed in the past few weeks. Calm was not a word Sean would immediately link with Dom, but he was definitely getting there.

"Are you ignoring me, Sean?" Elijah sounded aggrieved. "Not only am I, well, me, but I’m also a thoroughly delightful Frodo, and I demand your attention." He paused. "D’you know, you really can only say stuff like that in an English rod-up-your-arse accent." Sean, suitably chagrined, looked down, and was caught in Elijah’s gaze.

"Toad," he managed, before Elijah slithered away again, and threw himself at Billy.

The Elijah-mask wasn’t as much of a mask as it used to be.

PART TWO

It had been a good, good day, Dom decided, and the evening was shaping up really well now.

Elijah sat next to him, nursing only his second beer of the night, his leg pressed against Dom’s, the heat radiating off him, and Dom, with his patented, ridiculous, yawn-and-stretch move, had managed to get his arm around Elijah’s shoulders.

"We all right?" he said softly, pitching his voice just under the music, so that Elijah had to lean slightly sideways to hear him.

"Fine," he answered, and he wasn’t lying. The nearness of Dom, the now-familiar smell and touch of him, were comforting. Not exciting, not yet. He didn’t want to go any further, but the simple comfort of the contact was something he had never expected to feel.

Dom leaned closer and kissed Elijah’s neck, making Elijah smile and scrunch his shoulder upwards.

"We’ve been going out for two months exactly," Dom whispered. "It’s an event that should be celebrated."

"It’s a weird phrase, ‘going out’," said Elijah. "I mean, we hardly ever go out, do we? Or if we do, we go out with other people. Why is it called ‘going out’?"

"Because it makes your parents feel better. Imagine their reaction if you told them what you were actually planning to do. ‘See you later, mum. Going out to get ratted and then shag something with a pulse’." Dom pulled back slightly. "See? Doesn’t work."

"Okay," Elijah agreed amiably, staring down into his beer. "Two months? That’s a long time."

"I know," Dom agreed. "And we’ve been taking things slowly, haven’t we? Taking them at your pace?"

"Yeah." Elijah glanced sideways, and smiled. "Thanks."

"But I have to admit something…" Dom moved away slightly and took Elijah’s hand in his, playing with his fingers. "I’m getting a bit desperate. See?" He pulled Elijah’s hand downwards, his eyes almost laughing, and before he quite knew what was happening, Elijah found his fingers rubbing against the hard metal of Dom’s zip, feeling the other hardness underneath.

He tried to laugh, but it came out as a slightly asthmatic wheeze, and as gently as he could, he pulled away, muttering something about Dom being drunk.

"Lij, can I ask you something?" Dom leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Do you actually want to sleep with me, or is this some kind of weird Fred and Barney friendship?"

"What do you mean?" Elijah asked, his eyes still firmly fixed on his glass. "I think you’re one of the best things that’s happened to me in forever."

"Lij, we’ve been seeing each other for two months," Dom enunciated carefully. "That’s eight weeks. You instigated this, you asked me out, and all right, I jumped at the chance because it’s no secret what I thought of you then, and think of you now, but still … I don’t get this."

After a moment’s awkward silence, he continued.

"Today, at the beach, with the others, you were - amazing. When you’re like that, it’s like there’s a light shining out of you, and it hurts to look. And yes, thanks, I’m well aware how feeble that sounds. But it’s true. You shine. And I was so proud, because people were staring at you, and all I could think was ‘he’s mine’." Dom sighed. "But I don’t know if you are." He sat back, and put his hand on Elijah’s leg. "Are you?"

Elijah closed his eyes, and swallowed. He had to decide what to do, and he had an awful feeling that whichever way he went, was going to be wrong. He could feel Dom’s hand on his leg, and it felt - right. Good. Dom wouldn’t do anything to him, but it had been two months. He owed Dom, had to pay him back for being so good and patient.

"I am," he finally whispered, so quietly that Dom had to lean forward again. "I am," he said, a little more loudly. "I’m sorry, Dom. I guess I’m just a little - nervous."

"Can I ask you something really embarrassing?" Dom took the silence as a confirmation, so he asked it. "Have you ever been with a man? Are you a virgin?"

Whatever it was that bubbled into Elijah’s chest at that moment - hysterical laughter, or tears of self-pity - he swallowed down ferociously, schooling his face until he could look at Dom, and say, in all honesty.

"No, Dom. I haven’t been a virgin for a long, long time." He smiled, or at least tried to, but it came out as something of a grimace. "Your Elijah’s nothing better than a whore."

Dom couldn’t believe what he had heard.

"What? What makes you say that?" He moved his hand until it was cradling Elijah’s neck. "I don’t believe that, and anyway, even if it was true, and you had fucked thousands of men, it wouldn’t bother me, because you’re with me now, and I don’t plan on letting you go."

Elijah winced inwardly at how accurate Dom had unwittingly been, but didn’t speak.

"Come on." Dom stood up and held out his hand. "Time we weren’t here."

Come on, Lijah! Time to play…

And after tonight, he would be right back where he started, Dom just another fuck, a notch on a bedpost that stretched to infinity.

*

He was quiet in the cab on the way home, and Dom, obviously nervous and unsure, kept up an inane stream of babble, telling him things he already knew, but he didn’t interrupt. He could concentrate on Dom’s voice, and that helped to drown out other, darker voices.

"I don’t get this, Lij," Dom finally said, irritation clear in his voice. "Now you’ve gone all quiet and girly on me. You said that you’re mine, you actually said ‘your Elijah’, and now it’s like you’ve gone miles away from me."

"I haven’t," Elijah answered, forcing himself to sound as normal as possible. "I’m right here, see? I’m sorry, Dom. From here on in, I’m yours. Do whatever you want with me."

"Oh, thanks for the encouragement!" Dom sighed. "And you’ll just let me do it, will you?"

Yes. "I didn’t mean it like that. That’s why I’m not talking, see? I just end up saying the wrong thing."

Dom sighed again, and Elijah winced at the sound. He was doing it all wrong. All of it.

"Come here," Dom said, stretching out his arm. Elijah slid across the seat and nestled against Dom’s side, closing his eyes, and trying to burn the feeling into his memory. It wouldn’t happen again.

*

"So, then…" Dom stood in the kitchen, watching as Elijah wandered around, his fingers grazing surfaces, eyes flicking restlessly. "You want a drink or something?"

"Nah," Elijah shook his head. "I’m good." He paused. "I like your place, Dom. It’s very … you. I should tell you that more often. I like what you do to the places you’re in."

"That’s either a really profound thing to say, or complete bollocks," Dom said, still trying to relax. He glanced down at his hands, curled into fists, and made a conscious attempt to relax them, to relax his whole body.

It was pretty obvious where this evening was going to end, but it was weird. Elijah was distant, although he was trying not to be. He must have lied about being experienced with men, and it was just nerves. Dom would make things work.

"Come on," he said. "Let’s at least not stand in the kitchen. It reminds me too much of the parties I went to as a kid." He steered Elijah towards the living room. "I bet you never had that problem."

"You’d be amazed," Elijah answered dryly. "I was always being paraded about, the cute kid with the big eyes. An awful lot of people wanted a - piece of me."

"I can’t imagine what it must have been like, growing up like that." Dom sat on the sofa, and pulled Elijah down with him. "Always been stared at, and pushed around."

"It was the job," Elijah answered, his head resting against Dom’s shoulder. "It was what I wanted to do."

"What do you want to do now? Watch a DVD? Listen to music? What?"

"Music would be nice." Elijah laughed out loud, almost forgetting his nervousness, when Dom, with a flourish, produced the remote control and pointed it at the stereo. It wasn’t his fault that the music blasted out so loudly that people three blocks away checked their ears for blood.

Hastily turning down the sound to a more acceptable level, Dom attempted to regain his cool.

"Don’t say a word," he muttered. "Pretend that never happened."

"What?" Elijah asked innocently and Dom mock-growled, pulling him closer.

Kicking off their shoes, they sat quietly, Elijah’s hand resting on Dom’s thigh, his head comfortably tucked under Dom’s chin. It was only when he felt Dom’s lips, lightly brushing the top of his head, that Elijah closed his eyes.

"You’ll be all right, Lij, I promise. I just want this to be right …" Dom didn’t know what he was saying, which was fortunate, since he grew more and more embarrassingly trite, muttering words of love and devotion that would have made him heave under more normal circumstances.

Elijah wasn’t exactly pliable in his arms, but he wasn’t obviously frightened either, and slowly Dom began to ease him back on the sofa, kissing his face and neck, not noticing that Elijah kept angling his face away so that their mouths didn’t meet.

Elijah let Dom push him backwards until he was in danger of being suffocated in the cushions. He tried to relax as Dom’s lips and tongue went to work on his neck, kissing and nibbling, his hands straying until Elijah could feel them dangerously close to his crotch. He could hear Dom’s voice, muttering stupid phrases about love and adoration, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

And all the time, he could feel his heart rate speeding up, the blood running through his veins, the adrenaline kicking in.

"Come on Lijah, give it up."

And the body on his was so big, and he couldn’t move ….

"Don’t!" With a huge effort, he arched his body, pushing Dom away, and sliding out from under him. He ended up on his hands and knees on the floor, breathing so hard he was in danger of hyperventilating.

"Lij? Lij, I’m sorry," Dom sat up and reached out, his hand hovering uselessly just above Elijah’s shoulders, not sure if he should touch. "I shouldn’t have done that. I should have let you set the pace…"

"No," Elijah said, looking up, his face pale and sweating. "Fuck, Dom, I’m so sorry." He shifted until he was sitting, legs folded, on the floor, and wrapped his arms around himself.

"What did I do?" asked Dom. "I just wanted to - you know."

"It’s me, I’m just being stupid." Elijah shook his head, and looked at Dom. "Sorry." He moved again, this time onto his knees, and crawled forwards, pushing Dom’s legs apart, and settling between them. Swallowing as much of the self-hatred as he could, and pinning his Elijah-mask on, he rested his face on Dom’s thigh, his fingers walking their way up the other thigh, towards Dom’s crotch. "Let me make it up to you?"

Dom shifted, the weight on his legs somehow adding to the heat and the tension. He was hard, and getting harder, and he wanted Elijah so damn much - wanted his cock in that soft, inviting mouth … without thinking, he put out a hand and rested it on Elijah’s cheek, before tracing the shape of his mouth. Elijah opened his mouth and let Dom’s fingers slide in, clamping down hard on an impulse to gag, or bite, or both.

So close - Dom was so close to giving in, and then, like some kind of unwelcome visitation, Sean’s voice sounded in his mind:

"I can’t tell you why, that’s up to him. But don’t let him, er, blow you. Don’t let that be the first thing you do."

"No…" That Dom managed to frame the word and force it out of lips that wanted to kiss, rather than speak, was something of a miracle. What was almost too much for him was having to pull his finger out of Elijah’s mouth, trying not to think of warm wetness.

Elijah glanced up briefly, and nodded. Payback time. It had taken longer to come around than he had expected, but it wasn’t a surprise.

"Okay," he said. He pushed himself to his feet, staying between Dom’s knees, and reached for the belt of his jeans.

"What are you doing?" Dom asked, his stomach turning over.

"I just freaked, felt a bit suffocated there," he said, still unfastening and unzipping, although his fingers felt strangely clumsy, and he was horrified to realise that his throat felt embarrassingly tight. "I didn't mean to push you away." He knew this would happen, but he had hoped …

"I’m sorry for doing that," Dom answered. "for making you feel that way, but don’t do this, it doesn’t matter."

"So you may as well fuck me," Elijah continued, as if Dom hadn’t spoken. "That’s fine, and then I guess that’s quits yeah?" His fingers had slowed to a stop.

"I don’t want to fuck you!" Dom exclaimed, realising the stupidity of the comment as soon as it had left his mouth. He was going to add something stupid to try and lighten the tension, but he saw the stricken look in Elijah’s eyes, and didn’t know what to do.

"But I owe you," Elijah said. "You have to fuck me. I should have done this two months ago."

"What do you mean?" Dom was seriously confused now, and pulled his legs away, rolling his body so that he could climb off the couch, standing next to Elijah, arms aching to reach out for him. "Why do I have to fuck you?" His lips twitched, but it could hardly be called a smile. "Not that I don’t want to, of course."

"Because if I don’t …" Elijah trailed off, fingers still tangled in the zip of his jeans. "I just have to," he finished helplessly.

"Lij…" Dom put his hands on Elijah’s arms, jumping as he felt the immediate flinch. "I don’t understand. Please, just sit down here. Please?"

Elijah was an agony of indecision. He wanted to let Dom touch him, hell, he wanted to touch Dom - but he couldn’t. There was a shadow between them and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get past it.

"Sit down, Elijah," Dom said again, sitting down slowly, trying not to spook this strange creature. "Talk to me."

Elijah looked at Dom, and he tried to smile. Such a good, kind face. No shadows there.

Too good for you. You don’t deserve to be happy. You’re filth.

"Elijah?"

"No!" Elijah took a step backward, then another. "I don’t … I have to go." He turned on his heel and before Dom could so much as open his mouth to call out, he had grabbed his car keys and left, the door closing with a finality that hurt.

PART THREE

Sean was reading, lost in the magic of his book, and when the telephone disturbed his concentration, he felt a surge of irritation.

"It's all right," Chris said. "I'll get it."

She leaned across him, making him laugh as she deliberately pressed him into the couch, and picked up the handset.

"Hello?" She hadn't moved, and Sean, carefully putting his book aside, slid an arm around her waist, holding her against him.

"Hold on," she said. "I'll get him."

She held the handset out to Sean. "Dom."

"Okay, thanks." She began to move away, and he held onto her. "Not planning on going anywhere, I hope?"

Chris laughed, and settled herself, half in his lap. Absently he stroked his fingers on the fine skin of her neck.

Sean raised the handset to his ear. "Hello?" Something made him glance at the clock. Not late, nothing to worry about.

"Sean? Jesus, Sean!"

"What’s wrong? What’s happened?" Dom sounded completely distraught, and Sean's heart started to pound uncomfortably quickly. He tried to suppress the cold feeling in his gut.

"I’m sorry," Dom said, obviously trying to calm himself. "But I know you’re his mate, and he’s likely to come to you. Or maybe you know where he’d go…"

Elijah…. Sean’s eyes closed.

"What did you do?" He didn’t recognise his own voice.

"Nothing! I … Shit, Sean, I just wanted to make him feel good, make him understand what it is I feel for him. He freaked, man, big time. And about twenty minutes ago, he slammed out of here, and just took off. I don’t know where he might be. I thought he would come to you, but he’d be there by now…" Dom tailed off again. "He was so scared."

Chris had shifted until she was sitting next to Sean, offering the comfort of her warmth and presence. One hand was tangled in his hair, soothing him as only she could.

"What did you do to scare him?" Sean asked, closing his eyes against the sudden onset of a headache. He pressed himself closer to Chris, and she began to dig her fingers into his temple, trying to ease his discomfort.

"I didn’t do anything!" Dom protested again. "I just .. oh fuck it. I touched him, I kissed him, I stopped him sucking me off, just like you said. And then he stood in front of me and told me that I should fuck him, because if I did that, we’d be quits." He paused. "Have you got any idea what he means by that? Sean, there’s something going on that I just don’t get."

Sean sighed. "No, Dom, it’s okay. I don’t think you scared him. I can’t say if anything’s going on; it’s not my place to tell you that. It’s up to him."

"But I don’t know where he is!" It was almost a wail.

"No, and neither do I," replied Sean. "But I’m going to find him. Do me a favour, Dom, and just wait by the phone, okay? I’ve got a couple of ideas."

Now that Dom had shared his anguish, he was less ready to be told what to do. "What ideas? I asked him a bit ago if he just wanted me as his mate, you know? Fred and Barney is what I actually said. He said no. But now you claim you might know where he is, which is a fuck sight more than I do, and yet I’m the one he’s supposed to be seeing. Sure he’s not there, Seanie boy? Sure he’s not in your bed? Or better still, on his knees in front of you, giving you what you wouldn't let him give me? Having a good laugh about it, are you?"

"Don’t be so fucking stupid, Dom," Sean said coldly, deliberately and atypically swearing, surprising Dom into silence. "Part of the fun of a relationship is learning about the other person; if he has things to tell you, he will tell you them in his own time. If you don’t understand that now, Dom, right at the start of whatever you will have with him, then you don’t deserve him."

"I’m sorry," Dom said, after a moment’s silence. "You’re right. But I just feel like there’s some kind of secret here that I just don’t get."

"It’s not up to me to say." Sean paused. "Okay, listen, I’m going to go and find him. You stay put in case he comes back to you, and let me know if he does, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem."

Sean disconnected the call, and put the handset down, very deliberately.

"Elijah?" Chris asked softly. He nodded, and pulled away, standing up, moving to the window and looking out at the night.

Elijah? Where are you?

He felt a soft movement in the room behind him, and Chris came to stand at his side. She didn't ask any questions, but the feel of her fingers tangled with his comforted him.

*

When the doorbell rang, Sean nearly jumped out of his skin, half dizzy with tiredness.

"I’m sorry," said the forlorn-looking figure standing on the step. "Would you mind if I came in? I don’t want to go home."

"Oh, come in!" Sean grabbed Elijah’s arm and pulled him in, closing the door and locking them in warmth. "I’ve been worried sick about you, but I hoped that you’d come here in the end." He steered Elijah into the living room. "You’re freezing." He glanced down. "And where are your shoes?"

"It’s okay, mom," Elijah muttered, some of his numbness easing under Sean’s relentless mothering. "I’m fine."

"Sit," Sean pointed to the couch. "I’ll go and get you a drink and a blanket."

"No…" Elijah began, but it was too late, and Sean had vanished. All Elijah really wanted was to sit, quiet and safe, and not have to think too hard.

Very quickly, the ubiquitous hot chocolate was in his hand, and a blanket was round his shoulders. With an apologetic glance at Sean, he put the drink on a side table and shrugged the blanket off.

"What?" Sean asked.

"I’m not cold outside," Elijah said, not sure what he meant. "I … I’m such a fucking loser." He rubbed his hand across his face. "I'm sorry for coming. Is Chris...?"

"Asleep." Elijah sounded so forlorn and lost that Sean acted on instinct, pulling him into a hug, trying to impart some of his own warmth. He rested his lips against the top of Elijah’s head and swallowed the first few sentences that formed in his mind. Finally, he spoke.

"You need to call Dom. He’s so worried about you."

"Oh, god, I can’t!" Elijah buried his face in Sean’s sweater. "He must think I’m such a fucker."

"No, he’s just confused. Call him, okay?"

"You do it. Tell him I’m here."

"No." Sean pushed Elijah gently away. "You do it. I’m going to fill up the bathtub. Tell him that you’re safe and that you’re staying here tonight." He smiled. "He’s expecting to hear that bit."

He nodded towards the phone and stood up. "Come upstairs when you’re done."

*

Elijah listened to Sean’s retreating footsteps and then picked up the phone, staring at it as if it were some kind of miracle invention he’d never seen before.

"You mustn’t ever tell anybody, Elijah!"

But he had told somebody, hadn’t he? He’d told Sean, and now he had to tell somebody else. He was safe now; more importantly she was safe. They couldn’t be harmed again.

Fingers shaking, he dialled the familiar number. It had barely had time to ring before it was snatched up, and Dom’s voice, worried and slightly out of breath, spoke.

"Elijah?"

"Hi." He felt stupid and little and useless. Feelings he didn’t like. He tried to take charge. "Hi, it’s me. Listen, I’m sorry…"

"Oh, fuck me, Elijah! I’ve been so worried about you? Where did you run off to? Why?"

"I’m at Sean’s."

"I know. Caller ID, remember? Are you all right?"

Don’t be nice to me, don’t try and be my friend!

"I’m okay. I’m …" He tailed off. I’m what? I’m a fuckup? A failure?

"I’m sorry, " he said again. "I’ll stay here tonight."

"What do you owe me, Elijah?" Dom’s voice was so soft that Elijah’s eyes closed.

"Lij?"

"An explanation," Elijah said finally. "If nothing else, I owe you an explanation. Maybe you could come over here tomorrow? Sean wouldn’t mind, I’m sure."

"I could come over there now, if you want me to."

For just a second, Elijah almost gave in, but then caught himself.

"No," he said. "I think we’re both out of it tonight. I’m fine, and I just wanted to say, you know, sorry and shit. See you here tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah…" the sound was barely a whisper. "Sleep tight, Elijah."

"You too. Goodnight."

Hanging up the phone, Elijah stood for a long minute, before turning and making his way upstairs.

*

Sean didn’t ask any questions as Elijah appeared in the bathroom doorway. He simply nodded at the now filled tub, and raised his eyebrows, asking a silent question.

"No," said Elijah, not stopping to think how incredible it was that he could read the other man’s mind. "Stay here."

So as Elijah pulled off his clothes and climbed into the steaming water, Sean knelt on the floor and picked up the washcloth, waiting until Elijah was settled before starting to slowly wash his back.

"Did you talk to him?" he asked finally, when Elijah showed no sign of either talking or relaxing.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"He’s going to come over tomorrow. I’ll tell him then. Is that okay?"

"You don’t have to ask." Sean squeezed hot water over Elijah’s shoulders. "Hair?"

"No." Elijah sighed and shook his head.

"Okay." Still not pushing, Sean stood up, and held out a huge towel. "Here you are. I’ll go and make up the spare bed."

"Sean?" Elijah paused. "Would you stay with me? Would Chris mind?" Elijah stood up, the movement causing tsumani to splash over the sides of the bath. "I’m fucked up, Sean. I don't want ... I want you with me."

"You're not fucked up," Sean answered. "I’ll go and turn the lights off downstairs. Be back in a second. You know where the sweats are, right?"

"Right."

Running down the stairs, Sean looked over his shoulder before picking up the phone and making a quick call.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn’t get the chance to call you before. He turned up on the doorstep about a half hour ago. He looks okay."

"Thank God!" Ian’s voice echoed down the line. "Will he stay with you?"

"For tonight, yes. He’s a bit freaked, but okay, you know?"

"Yes, I know. Thank you for the call, Sean. Ring me when you can."

Hanging up the phone, Sean quickly switched off the light and then looked up the stairs. It was quiet, but Sean had a feeling that there wasn’t going to be much sleep for him for what remained of the night. He could see the soft light spilling from the spare room, see shadows as Elijah moved around.

"Be there in a second," he said quietly, before making for the main bedroom to explain to Chris.

*

He slid into bed, and Elijah opened his eyes, but didn’t smile.

"Hi," Sean said. He made himself comfortable. "You want to come over my side?"

Without a thought, Elijah slid over until he was nestled against Sean, warmth finally beginning to see through his body.

"Okay, little bro," Sean sighed. "Lights out now." He suited actions to words and settled down, listening to Elijah’s erratic breathing. He wasn’t surprised when the silence was broken.

"I should never have done it."

"Done what?" Sean asked.

Elijah scrubbed his face against Sean’s chest before replying. "Should never have believed that I had a chance."

Sean closed his eyes, before hugging Elijah a little closer. "You have a right to be happy, Lij."

"No, I don’t," he replied. "Before… before I told you, before all this started, with the shrink and the Dom thing, I was - maybe not okay, maybe I was screwed up, but I never felt like this. I never felt so fucking vulnerable." He sighed. "You don’t get it, Sean, nobody can get it. You think that you know how it is to feel bad, but you have no way of understanding what it feels like to know that you’re damaged goods."

"But you’re not…" Sean tailed off. "You’re not," he said again, more quietly.

"I don’t like it," Elijah said. "I don’t like feeling like this. I feel breakable." He stopped. "I don’t think it was a good idea, you know, Dom?"

"It was," Sean replied. "And listen to me. I’m no psychiatrist, but I know one thing. Feeling like this, open and vulnerable, is the beginning of a process. You’re healing, you’ll get there. It’s better than being cold and unapproachable." He shook Elijah softly. "You deserve happiness."

"Why does this work with you?" Elijah muttered, half to himself. "Why don’t I feel as if I have to pay you back?"

"I don’t know," Sean admitted. "But I’m glad. I’m glad you can come to me. And to Ian, as well. You know that, don’t you?"

"I nearly did something really stupid," Elijah said, not responding to Sean’s question. "I got in the car, and I just drove, you know? And then I parked on some seedy little street and watched the action, and I nearly got out of the car and went back to how it used to be. Just finding somebody to help me forget all this." He paused, and Sean waited. "You know what stopped me?"

"What?"

"No shoes. Didn’t want to step on anything too unsavoury. I mean, I’ll let guys fuck me, you know, but I’m not stepping in dog shit for anybody."

"I’m glad, then, that you forgot your shoes," Sean replied. "Glad that you ran out of there without thinking."

"So am I," Elijah said eventually. "I think."

*

Surprisingly, they both slept after that, and when Elijah woke the next day, he was comfortably tangled in blankets imbued with the comforting smell of Sean. Of Sean himself, there was no trace, but as Elijah settled down for another nap, he began to hear familiar sounds, and smell delicious aromas, and when his stomach woke up enough to rumble in protest, he rolled out of bed, and pulling up the sweats, which were in danger of taking up residence around his ankles, made his way downstairs.

"At last!" Sean said. "You really could win a cold medal for sleeping." He pointed toward the table. "Sit."

"It’s an art," Elijah agreed, and sat. "Where's Chris? Does she hate me?"

"She's taken Ali out for the day, and before you say anything, she was always going to do this; she's not mad at you, and she doesn't hate you. There's nothing there to hate."

Putting breakfast in front of Elijah, Sean sat opposite him, and rested his head on his hands.

"Don't stare at me, it's rude," Elijah said after a minute's serious eating. "I'm sorry about last night, just turning up on your doorstep, it must have been pretty freaky for both of you."

"It doesn't matter, you know that," answered Sean. "You can come here whenever you want. But you know that just running to me isn't the answer."

"I know." Elijah put down his fork, suddenly not hungry. "But I don't know what to say to him. You - you understood, you took it all in your stride. But Dom's - not like you," he finished weakly.

"No, he isn't," Sean agreed. "But he looks at you as if you were his reason for living, and Lij, that's something that most people never find if they search for a lifetime. You've had it handed to you when you're still so young. I don't know how he'll react, but I'll tell you something - you owe it to him, and to yourself, to tell him." He leaned forward, eyes intense. "Don't let it slip out of your reach, Elijah, because you'll regret it for ever."

"Voice of experience?"

"No." Sean sat back, "I've got everything I could want. But I've seen it in other people, and I don't want to see it in you."

Elijah looked at the remains of his breakfast, and then back up at Sean. "I should go and dress," he said, pushing his chair back and standing up. "Maybe call Dom and get him to come over, if that's okay?"

"Of course it is," Sean said. "I've got stuff to do later, so you can have the run of the place."

"I don't want to throw you out of your own home," Elijah protested. "I'll meet him over at my place."

"No, don't even think that. You talk to him here. There's no reason for you to leave. And anyway.." Sean's mouth quirked. "You don't have any shoes."

Elijah's toes curled in response, and he smiled, but didn't answer.

*

Dom had spent a good part of the morning staring at the phone, willing it to ring, even picking it up to make sure that there was a dialling tone, as well as checking the signal on his cell.

Naturally, when the phone did finally ring, he was in the bathroom, and it was only by the sheerest of luck that he was at the shaking and tucking stage, and so was able to run out of the room and make a leap for the phone.

"Hey," Elijah's voice was soft and slightly unsure.

"Hi." Dom wasn't ready for the huge surge of emotion that coursed through him at the simple word. "You all right?"

"Fine. I'm sorry for being so weird last night."

"It doesn't matter," Dom hastened to assure him. "Just as long as you're all right."

"I owe you an explanation, and I'd like to ... see you. Would you mind?"

"Mind?" Dom nearly laughed in sheer relief. "There's nothing I want to do more than see you. Shall I come over there?"

"Yeah, if you could. Sean's gone out, and I have stuff I need to tell you, Dom. Try and explain."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Dom was torn between wanting to end the conversation so that he could leave the house, and not wanting to leave Elijah alone. Suddenly it seemed important that he wasn't alone.

Elijah made the decision for him, saying a quiet goodbye, and hanging up the phone.

*

"Hi." Elijah opened the door before Dom could so much as raise his hand to the bell.

"Hi." Dom shifted restlessly. "Er, don't really know what to say, here. I don't get any of this."

"I know." Elijah stood back and let Dom into the house. "I have to tell you, maybe explain it if I can. But not here, not on the porch, okay?"

Closing the door, he led the way into the living room.

"I brought your shoes," Dom said, looking down. "They're in the car. I forgot to bring them in. Shall I get them?"

"No, it's fine, thanks." Elijah sat on one of the chairs, and nodded towards the sofa. "Sit, okay?" He paused, and looked at Dom. "I can't wait, I have to tell you now. If I don't, then I'll never tell you, and you deserve more than that."

"What?" Dom sat down. "Elijah, whatever you think you've done, or whatever it is that's so awful it makes you run away, can't be so bad. I don't believe you're capable of doing something so terrible."

Elijah almost smiled. "Don't you? You don't really know me, though, do you?"

"Maybe not," Dom agreed. "But I'd like to."

Elijah took a deep breath, and then stopped before he even got started.

"What?" Dom asked, more confused than ever. "What’s wrong?"

"When you’re a kid," Elijah began slowly. "Shit happens, and there isn’t always a lot you can do about it, you know? And sometimes, the shit just keeps coming back to haunt you, and you can’t get away from it, and it kind of fucks you up." He looked up briefly, and then back at his hands, clenched into fists in his lap. "So, this isn’t you, okay? I’m the fuckup, not you."

"You’re not a fuckup," protested Dom. "Why do you think that?" He leaned forward. "What happened to you, Elijah?"

"Sometimes, you get yourself into a situation that you can’t get out of," Elijah said. "Because of other stuff - you have to look after people, and so you do stuff that maybe you wouldn’t usually do.

There was a guy, and we thought he was our friend, but he wasn’t, not really. We just thought he was. And one day, he … he wanted to do something to my sister, but she was just a kid, and so that wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t let that happen." He swallowed, and studied his hands.

"You know when you buy a cooked chicken, and its legs are tied? When you unfasten that string and you pull its legs apart, the flesh is pulled and torn. That’s how it feels, you know? When somebody pushes your legs too wide, you can feel them pull, feel the muscles scream out."

"What are you saying? Who wanted to hurt your sister?"

"Nobody hurt her, not in the end," Elijah explained carefully, still looking down. "This … man, who wanted to hurt her - well, he didn’t mind in the end that it wasn’t her. In the end, he maybe just wanted to hurt someone, one of them."

"One of you?" Dom asked, but Elijah didn’t reply.

"And it hurts. There’s a body holding you down, and hands touching you and grabbing you, but you can’t fight it because you owe him this so that other people don’t get hurt." He raised one hand, put his finger in his mouth, but then moved it again, clasping his hands together beween his knees. "You’re the man of the house now, the one who puts the food on the table. It’s your duty to protect them. But you still try and get away, because, well, it’s natural, you know?" He shifted, his head lifting slightly. "And then you feel hands in your hair, holding your head still, and he pushes your legs even further apart, until you know they won’t go any further, not without breaking." He licked his lips, tasting the sweat gathering on his face.

"And he bends down and you feel his breath against your face, and then he shoves his tongue in your mouth - he would probably call it a kiss - and it’s like having a slug crawling around, and you gag because you just can’t help it, but it doesn’t stop. And you can’t breathe because he’s pressing into you, and you can feel your heart beating too quickly, and you want to fight, but you just can’t." He ran his hand briefly across his face.

"You know what he’s going to do, in theory anyway, but it doesn’t prepare you - nothing prepares you for the pain. You can feel yourself tearing inside, and you want to scream, and beg him to stop, but you know he won’t."

He stood up suddenly, wrapping his arms around himself, and walked toward the window, gazing out at nothing.

"And all the time, his tongue’s in your mouth, and you’re forced into the most uncomfortable position you can imagine." He paused again as his throat closed, but he refused to give into that particular emotion, not now, after so long.

"The worst part, you know, is when he comes around and he’s brought somebody with him, and you end up being held down by two of them, which is pretty bad, and then they talk. But not to you, not even to tell you what they want you to do." He turned back from the window and took an aimless step into the room, stopping again. "They talk over you, about what bar they’re going to, or about the big game, or something. And all the time you’re being ripped apart, but they don’t care. You’re just dismissed, something to do while they plan their evening."

He realised that he was talking in a strange second-hand way about it, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. Maybe by doing it this way he could pretend that it had happened to someone else. Maybe Dom wouldn’t walk away and never look back.

"Usually though, it’s just one of them who holds you down and hurts you - always the same one. And he learns what it is that you hate most, what it is that makes you want to cry out and beg him, and he does that more than anything else, holding you down, crushing the air out of you."

He finally made it back to the sofa and sat down again. He put his hands over his mouth, and although his words were muffled, he didn't stop talking.

"When he finally moves away and lets you breathe, you can hear your lungs working to try and get some air, but then you find you can’t breathe anyway, because it hurts so much, every time he moves inside you, you feel tearing and pain, and there’s blood, you can feel blood, and part of your mind is scared about that, instead of what’s happening, but that’s maybe because you can’t really believe what it is that’s happening.

And it goes on forever, and all you can feel is pain and humiliation. You just want it to end, but you know what has to happen before it does, and you’re scared, but then he starts to move harder, hurt you more, and you know it’s happening, and when you feel it, you know, inside you - it’s odd, because it kind of soothes the pain and the tearing, but you want to throw up at the same time."

His shoulders were so tight they were up around his ears, and he could feel his body beginning to curl in on itself. His palms were so sweaty that he felt an absurd desire to go and find a cloth to wipe them.

"When it's over ..." he shrugged. "You get up, and you carry on." He paused, and dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "But you’ve changed. You’ll never be the same again, you can’t be." He sighed, a bit shakily. "So you learn to be what people want you to be, and to do what they want you to do. And that’s all right, you know?" He squeezed his eyes shut. "But then something happens. You’re all fixed to just get through it, and then you meet people who want to help you, and you let them make you think that you have a chance, but it’s always there, and you think it’s under control, and something happens to remind you of it, and you realise what scum you are, and how there’s just no fucking point."

He sat silently, and waited for Dom to leave.

Except he didn't. Elijah stared at the floor, eyes burning, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did, and eventually, more out of a desire to move things along, get it over with, he looked up, directly into Dom's eyes, which made him flinch and blink. He didn't know which was worse; hatred or sympathy, but as he looked back, he realised that he couldn't see either of those expressions in Dom's eyes. What he saw was a slightly inward-turned, thoughtful gaze.

"The first thing you have to understand is that I love you." Dom shrugged. "I think that it finally hit me some time around 5am when I was making my millionth cup of coffee and wishing you were with me."

He stood up, his gaze still locked with Elijah’s. He could feel - something - building inside. Anger? Yes, probably. More than that. He needed to understand, needed to fathom what he had just been told, try and take in what had happened to Elijah.

"Okay," he said, finally pulling himself out of Elijah’s eyes, and taking a step away, and then another. "Okay. So, who did it? Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why the …" But he managed to stop that one. Why the fuck did you let it happen?

Without quite knowing how he got there, he found himself at the window, and he gazed out for a minute, until he realised that Elijah wasn’t going to speak. He glanced back, and almost fell straight back into that direct gaze, but managed to stop himself. Instead, he walked around the room, picking up ornaments, then putting them down again, taking what seemed forever to straighten them, get the angles just right. And all the time, he talked. Why? Where? Who? He couldn’t seem to form a proper question, just odd, silly words. His body was buzzing, full of nervous, pent-up energy, making it impossible to stand still, or sit, or even think coherently. He could hear Elijah’s voice, not describing the event - Dom had mentally put his hands over his ears at some point - but the aftermath - "you realise what scum you are."

"You’re not," he said. "You could never be that."

Elijah didn’t know what he meant, and even if he did, he wasn’t ready to talk. He had said all he intended to say on that particular subject. He watched Dom move around the room, only too well aware of the energy he was trying to contain, or channel, or somehow deal with. He suspected that what Dom really wanted to do was scream, shout and then punch something, and he was willing enough to be the punch bag. It was what he deserved. He listened to the almost constant monotone as Dom continued to walk erratically around the room, talking to himself, asking questions that couldn’t be answered. His movements were becoming shorter and more jerky as his co-ordination got lost somewhere in his emotions.

Finally, breathing so deeply that he was making himself lightheaded, Dom returned to stand directly in front of Elijah, who looked directly up at him, the tilt of his head so defiant that for a second, it halted Dom in his tracks.

"Did you do that? Did you look like that at him - at them?" he asked. Elijah didn’t move or speak, and Dom, finally understanding that he was too close, too threatening, stepped back until his knees hit the edge of the couch. He perched on the edge, his hands clasped tightly, dangling between his knees. He studied his nails, picking idly at a loose flake of varnish, then raised his thumb to his mouth.

"Shouldn’t do this," he said around a mouthful of nail. "It’s a bad habit. Picked it up from you." He let his hands drop again, and sat as still as he could. He was buzzing so badly that he could feel his legs twitching, but he didn’t know how to relieve the pressure. In the end, he settled for shifting on his seat, his hands moving outwards and stopping in mid-air. "I want to hold you," he almost whispered. "Can I?"

When Elijah didn’t move, Dom’s hands dropped again. "Don’t you get it?" he half-whispered, "I love you. It wasn’t your fault, whatever happened. I want to make coffee with you, and get pissed with you, and roll into bed with you. It’s all I want." He looked up, and felt a brief flash of hope as he realised Elijah was still looking at him, his gaze direct, eyes barely shadowed at all. "Please," he said. "Let me hold you. It would just - help."

Not daring to speak, his mind seizing up slightly, Elijah slid off the sofa and covered the short distance between them, sitting next to Dom. Tentatively, awkwardly, Dom pulled him close, and Elijah went, not knowing what else to do. He rested his head on Dom's chest, not sure what he was waiting for. He could feel - something - thrumming through the body underneath his ear, but it didn't feel like anger. He felt Dom's hand on the small of his back, stroking. then sliding up his back and tangling in his hair.

They didn't speak. There really wasn’t anything to be said.

*

After what seemed a long time, Dom realised that Elijah was asleep, and he felt a smile start somewhere inside. Even in the most trying of circumstances, and uncomfortable of positions, Elijah could still sleep. But then again, maybe he didn’t sleep too well at night.

Jesus. Jesus, what a thing for anybody to have gone through, to have suffered alone. Dom could feel himself growing more angry, as he sat as still as he could, Elijah soft against him.

The sound of the front door, loud in the silence, pulled him away from his thoughts, and he looked up as Sean peered into the living room.

"Sorry," he whispered, taking in the tableau in front of him. "Want me out of here?"

"No. No, Sean, we can’t kick you out of your house." Dom paused, looking down at the top of Elijah’s head where it was nestled against his chest, before looking back up. "Did you know? Did you know all this?"

Sean nodded, not entering the room. "It was up to him to tell you, Dom."

"I know that." Dom contorted himself so that he could rest his lips in Elijah’s hair. "How the fuck did you cope with knowing?"

"You just do. You just have to." Elijah stirred, and they both froze. "I’ll be upstairs. Don’t tell him I’m here." With that, Sean disappeared, and Dom heard soft footsteps on the stairs.

Elijah woke up, and knew immediately where he was and what had happened. Fuck. He could feel the tension in Dom’s body; the heat pouring off him was incredible. Elijah didn’t know what to do. Experimentally, he let one of his hands dip down and brush against Dom’s crotch. If he was hard, then he would do what was necessary.

He was at least halfway there, and Elijah drew in a long and silent sigh, and began to shift, when Dom’s voice stopped him.

"Don’t, Lij."

"What do you want me to do, then?" Elijah sat back, making himself look directly at Dom, surprised again that the expected expression was absent. "Want me to go? I’m sorry, Dom, so sorry."

"I love you," Dom said. "That’s the first thing you have to know. I want you to repeat it to yourself three times before you go to sleep if that’s the best way to get it into that thick skull of yours." His arm twitched, then stilled. "Can I touch you?"

Elijah nodded, and held himself still as Dom reached out, briefly touched his arm, and pulled back.

"Why do you love me?" Elijah asked. "After what I’ve just told you…"

"I just do. Can’t help it." Dom shrugged, half smiled. "I need to ask you some questions though. Can I do that?"

"Stop asking stuff before you do it," Elijah snapped. "I’m no different than I was before. I’m not fucking retarded. I’m just fucked up, that’s all." He bit back the rest of what he had been going to say. "Yes," he said, more softly. "Ask me anything you want."

"Did it damage you? I mean physically? Are you all right - inside?"

"Fine." Elijah nodded. "We all have to take a physical before any movie, remember? And can you remember how thorough the one was this time?" Dom nodded, and they shared a smile, before Elijah sobered again. "So there you are. There’s nothing wrong with me." He couldn’t help smiling again at the irony of that statement.

"Okay," Dom said. "Well, that’s good. Er …Lij, are you gay? Or is it just that men have hurt you and you’ve never tried the alternative?" He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "Is this all you know?"

"I know all about the alternative. I’ve tried the alternative. Jesus, Dom. Think about what happened - why on earth would I want to stay with the same sex? I ran as far away, as fast as I could; fucked my way around half of adolescent Hollywood, and sometimes not so adolescent. It wasn’t what I wanted. I am what I am, Dom. I like men."

"Okay," Dom said again. "Last one for the time being. Who was it? Did you know them? Did you go to the police?"

"Told you, thought he was a friend. The other guy?" Elijah shrugged. "I don’t want to do this, Dom. I’m not naming him, I never have. It gives him too much power."

"Okay." Dom thought briefly that he needed to find a different word. He reached out and took Elijah’s hand in his own, and held it, fingers tracing patterns on the pale skin. "That’s enough for now, then." He smiled, as much as he was able. "We need to get out of here before Sean wants his home back. Will you come home with me?"

Elijah seemed fascinated by their joined hands, and it took him a minute to respond.

"I’m not talking about it anymore," he said. "Don’t think that. You know. How you deal is up to you." He looked up. "Why do you want me to come home with you? You want to fuck me?"

"Yes," Dom said honestly. "But not now, not like this. I want to fuck you and have you fuck me, and I want to learn everything there is to know about you, but I want you to tell me when you’re ready. I’m not demanding anything from you."

Elijah looked at him, an expression Dom couldn’t name showing in his eyes.

"No," he said. "I won’t come home with you. I don’t think that’s a good idea, not right now. You’ll want to talk about it, and I won’t, and you’ll get all - you know - your jaw will start to twitch like it does when you’re stressed - see? It’s doing it now." He smiled, and pulled his hand free.

"Will you try?" Dom blurted out. "Will you try to understand that I love you, even if you don’t understand why? Fuck, Elijah, before any of this started, we were mates, weren’t we? If there’s never anything else, at least let me be your mate. I want to help you."

"Then help me by not asking about it, by not expecting me to tell you all the details, because I won’t. I can’t." Elijah stepped back. "Let’s get out of here before Sean gets a cramp from being so quiet up there." He smiled, and it was almost a real Elijah-smile, even though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m not stupid, and I’m not deaf." He took another step back. "You’ve got your car, yeah? You go home, and I’ll go home, and tomorrow we’ll meet up in Feet, same as ever."

"And we’re friends?"

"Always that," Elijah answered quickly. "Always friends."

Dom desperately wanted to ask if there was any chance of more than that, but he kept his mouth firmly closed, following Elijah out of the house, laughing as he shouted ‘goodbye’ up the stairs to Sean, and then following him to his car.

"Your jaw’s twitching again," Elijah said, trying to smile again, and again not quite managing it. "Listen, Dom. I don’t know what to do, okay? I’ve told you something that is fucking huge, and I expect you to hate me, and you don’t seem to, and that - I don’t understand that. I think at some point I’m going to have to pay you back for being so cool about it, and when it comes to that, I’ll try, all right? I’ll try and pay you back so well that it makes up for every bit of shit I’ve caused."

"You don’t have to pay me back," Dom said. "I don’t want that. I can honestly say that if you offered it to me on a plate right now, I’d say no."

"Really?" Elijah quirked an eyebrow, and closed the distance between them, resting his hand on Dom’s waist. "You sure?"

"Don’t." Dom gently pushed him away. "Don’t sell yourself short, not anymore." He pulled at the tips of Elijah’s hair. "You look a mess. You’re right, we should both go home. But if you need anything, just ring me." He paused. "Lij, are you - you know - are you getting help?"

"The first thing Sean did to me was throw me at a therapist," Elijah answered. "He’s good, he helps, and Ian - god, Ian! I owe him a lot, too."

"And it helps, the shrink?"

"Hey, I was able to tell you about it, wasn’t I? Believe me, that’s a fucking huge step forward." His eyes softened, but he still couldn’t manage a smile. "I’ll see you at work."

Dom stood and watched Elijah’s car pull away, and then climbed into his own. It was only then that he realised Elijah’s shoes were still sitting tidily on the passenger seat.

PART 4

Dom walked into the mess tent and glanced around, his eyes skipping over the motley crowd of orcs, elves and other Middle Earth dwellers. In one corner there was a particularly rowdy game of cards going on, and Dom knew without looking that he would find Viggo and Craig in the middle of it, egging each other on to ever more outrageous outpourings. On another day, he would have been tempted to join them - in fact, when he looked properly, he could see Billy in there with them, and that was almost enough to alter his direction, but he was a man on a mission, and meeting Billy’s eyes, gave a complicated series of signals, to which Billy responded with a nod.

That settled, Dom made his way over to a relatively quiet corner, and sat opposite Ian, who was gazing into space, a small smile on his lips, and the bemused expression many people wore in Middle Earth.

"Hello," Dom said, sitting opposite him. "I need to have a word if that’s all right."

"Of course." Ian’s attention shifted. "What can I do for you?"

"Er…" Now that the time was here, Dom wasn’t sure how to begin. He had the whole speech in his mind, but it was the actual jumping off point that was causing trouble.

"So, where’s Elijah today?" Ian asked, seemingly casual.

"Wrapped around Sean, last time I saw him," Dom replied, trying to keep the slightly bitter tone out of his voice. "Where do you think?"

Ian shrugged. "He likes Sean, trusts him. You have to earn his trust, Dom. You know that."

Dom shot him a glare. "Have you spoken to him?"

"To whom? I’ve spoken to Sean, yes. Not Elijah."

"About our little drama?"

"Yes." Ian smiled softly. "I know about your ‘little drama’, and I know about Elijah’s huge drama. I assume that’s why you’re here, and why you’re having such trouble getting started."

Dom leaned forward and rested his chin on his fists. "I do love him, you know."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Ah, the young and their emotions. He’s a very loveable young man."

"No, I mean … love him. As in, in love," Dom explained, before catching the twinkle in Ian’s eye. "Oh, fuck off!"

"Now, now…" Ian sat forward as well, so that a strange impression of intimacy was created - a little bubble of privacy. "I’m glad, Dom. From what I know of his story, and from what Sean has told me of yesterday’s events, I think you are handling it all remarkably well."

"I’ve barely seen him today, though. Since we got out of Feet, he’s been with Sean. He’ll hardly look at me."

"Have you considered that perhaps he’s a little embarrassed at telling you so much, showing so much emotion? Hard as this has been for you, for Sean, for me, it’s a drop in the ocean compared to what Elijah has been through - is still going through." Ian glanced quickly around, to make sure they will still safe in their little corner. "Think about it. He’s carried this awful secret with him for a lot of years, and yet to most people he’s just a carefree young man. You’ve known about it since yesterday, and you’re behaving as if you have a great secret."

"Well, I do."

"Yes, and so does he. The point of a secret, Dom, is that it stays secret. He is a consummate actor when it comes to that, and if you want to be his friend, then you have to learn how to keep his secret."

"I just feel like I’m on the outside looking in," Dom said, his fingers rubbing across his forehead. "He goes to Sean when he needs comfort, he rings you when he needs advice. He doesn’t come to me, and I would listen to him, I’d help him. Hell, I want him to come to me."

"He’s not ready for that," Ian said softly. "And you know he isn’t. Dom, it’s less than 24 hours since he told you something shocking about himself. You can’t expect him to act as if nothing has happened. He’s given you a part of his soul, and now you have to take care of it."

"Is he frightened of me?" Dom asked bluntly. "Do you think that’s what it is? He’s not frightened of you, and definitely not of Sean, but then I don’t think you offer him the same kind of threat - that’s not the word, but I can’t think what the right one is - you’re not coming from the same angle as me." He huffed out an annoyed breath. "Is he frightened of sex, d’you think? After what happened to him, do you think he’s scared of me because I want to have sex with him?" Dom’s face changed, a look of awful realisation dawning. "Does he think I’m going to hurt him?"

Ian sighed, and put his hand out, holding it still until Dom gave up one of his own. Ian had been waiting for this, ever since the telephone conversation he had held with Sean the previous evening, when Sean had explained everything that had happened, everything Elijah had done and said.

"I have to tell you something now," Ian said quietly. "And you won’t like it. Elijah rang Sean last night, and told him what had happened between you. He didn’t do it to upset you or annoy you; he simply did it because he needs to talk to Sean. He needs Sean to fill a gap that his upbringing left him with. And because Elijah told Sean, then Sean told me. This is how our backup system works. Sean and I support each other because we want to support Elijah. We want him to be happy."

He ran his thumb idly across Dom’s knuckles, and then, his attention caught, looked down.

"What have you done?" The skin was broken and bruised, old blood mingling with rubbed-off make up to make a disgusting sticky sludge.

"Don’t worry, nothing that will get me arrested." Dom tried to pull away, but Ian held on tight, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"For fuck’s sake, let go!" Dom said it a little too loudly, and glanced around, half expecting to meet the curious gaze of several people, but nobody was taking any notice.

"I’ll let go when you tell me. What did you punch?"

"A wall, okay? If you want details, the wall of my living room, the wall of my kitchen and the wall of my garage, although not in that order. I can’t fucking punch what I want to punch, because I don’t know the name of the guys who - hurt him." He pulled experimentally, trying to free his hand, but Ian didn't give an inch.

"And I can’t punch him…"

"Because you love him?" Ian asked softly. "Because you don’t want to hurt him?"

Dom blinked, and then almost smiled. "I wasn’t even thinking about him. No, I can’t punch him because Elijah loves him…." His eyes slipped sideways, not meeting Ian’s gaze.

"Oh…" the sound was little more than a breath. "I see … you do realise, though, that you have nothing to be jealous of?"

"No?" Dom arched an eloquent eyebrow. "How about the fact that he knows everything I say to Elijah? How about the fact that he talks to you about what is really none of his business? How about," and here Dom leaned forward, seemingly oblivious to his hand, still held firmly in Ian’s, "the fact that he can hug Elijah, can fucking sleep with him? In fact, Elijah seems to crave it, sometimes. Crave his touch. And you have no idea - absolutely fucking none - how that makes me feel!"

"So, tell me," Ian said, still calm, still reasonable, which only served to infuriate Dom even further.

"If you saw them, Ian. All comfortable with each other, and full of little secrets that I’ll never be a part of. I’ll never know half the things about Elijah that Sean has probably already forgotten. Do you think Sean has ever fucking ached like I do? Ached to touch him? No, because he doesn’t have to ache, he can just go and touch him. D’you think Sean has any idea how it feels to hurt like this? To just want something so much, and yet have to hold back all the time? No, of course he fucking doesn’t." Dom sighed explosively. "He’s so fucking middle class perfect, with his lovely wife, and his lovely kid, and his lovely life. Well, he’s got something I want, and he doesn’t know what to do with it, and it’s doing my head in!"

Ian didn’t speak for a moment, his thumb still moving idly over Dom’s skin, then he nodded slightly to himself.

"I’m going to ignore the more monstrously unfair statements you made there, because I understand that you’re just angry. But if this is truly how you feel, first of all, why don’t you dislike me? Or perhaps you do. Second, if he has something you want, then maybe you should find out from him how to get that thing for yourself. However, may I just say that if you did that, then whatever admiration I have for you would vanish, because Elijah, whatever else he may be, is not an object. He is not something that can be handed from one person to another. He is a sensible, mature young man. He may have a gaping wound inside him, but it’s just one part of his life. He is strong in every other aspect. You are not stupid, Dom. You are doing the right thing by being patient."

"Sean doesn’t love him like I do, he can’t. He doesn’t have it in him to feel something like this." Dom glared at Ian. "And you’re not a threat."

"Again, I shall ignore how rude that was, to both myself and Sean. We are both capable of deep emotion, as you know. You are just hurt and angry."

"Stop being so fucking reasonable," Dom snapped. "Why don’t you fight back? It’s like arguing with a fucking pillow."

"You’re only looking to vent your anger, you’re not looking to fight."

"Oh, thank you so much. You’re only pretending to be Gandalf, you know. You’re not really a wise old wizard."

Dom didn’t know what he was supposed to be feeling. Betrayal was the first emotion, and then just a big gaping hole, waiting to be filled with something.

"I’m not going to talk further about this," Ian said. "I’m not going to rake over the coals and embarrass you by talking about things you perhaps would rather were kept private, but I do promise you that I will never mention what happened between you two yesterday, unless you give me permission."

Dom pulled his hand away and put it over his mouth. He wanted to scream. He wanted to go and find Elijah, and shake him until his arms went numb, and then kiss him. But instead he contented himself with shaking his head in complete bewilderment, the anger being replaced by a huge well of confusion.

"Is he frightened of me?" he asked again. "Frightened of sex?"

"No." Ian sighed. "When you think what’s been done to him in the past, why should sex frighten him? Or at any rate, sex with somebody he knows and trusts - and loves. Because whatever else he may feel or think, I tell you this, Dom. He does love you." Ian reached out and took Dom’s hand in his own once more. "What frightens him is intimacy. The thought that somebody could catch him off-guard, when his emotions are at their most exposed."

"What does he think I’ll do to him?" Dom asked, completely bewildered. "I wouldn’t …I just want to …" He tailed off and shrugged helplessly.

"I know," Ian soothed. "It’s a hard path you’ve chosen, young man. You’re going to have to call on reserves of patience you never knew you had, because I tell you this; he can be impossible at times. Wait until he’s tired from emoting all day; he’ll ring you, or come around and proceed to rip your head off, and then expect a cup of coffee and a hug. He’s like a spoiled child one minute, and the most damaged, most precious being the next. And you never know when the mood is going to change."

"He’s getting help, he said. Is it working?"

"You perhaps need to ask him all this," Ian said, sitting back, and nodding to somebody who had just walked in.

"I daren’t," Dom admitted frankly. "I don’t know how to talk to him."

"Just talk to him," Ian said. "He’s just as confused as you are. And one last thing. Elijah has Sean. He needs Sean, just as he is learning to need you. I would like to, if you will, offer myself. Nobody should be expected to carry this burden around with them. If you feel the need to speak about it, or in any way to get this off your chest, I would ask you to come to me. Don’t keep it to yourself, because that is unfair, not only on you, but on Elijah."

"I’ve got Billy," Dom said, aware of how stubborn he sounded.

Ian looked up again, and then, speaking more quickly now, ducked his head and said, "Don’t be foolish. You do not have the right to share this kind of information with Billy, not without Elijah’s permission. I will always listen to you, if you need to say anything. The support system exists so that no one of us feels alone." He stopped speaking abruptly, and as Dom watched, his face settled into a soft expression of welcome.

"Hi." Dom jumped a mile in the air, and turned to see Elijah smiling at him. Just Elijah.

"Where’s your shadow?" he asked, before attempting to bite out his own tongue. He knew Ian had been right, but it didn’t mean that he had to like it.

"What?" Elijah looked quizzical, and then, his smile fading slightly, answered. "He’s talking to Orli and John."

"Then I shall join them." Ian stood up and stretched expansively. "Dom, always a pleasure. I hope we talk again very soon. Elijah, as ever, you make an old man very happy. Be good, children." He smiled at them both and walked out, leaving behind some of the calm air that he seemed to carry with him wherever he went.

"You’ve been avoiding me," Dom said softly, nodding to the seat opposite him, resolutely hiding his hands.

"No," Elijah protested. "Yes," he amended. "But I’m here now." He stopped, took a breath, and then stopped again. Finally, he nodded, as if finishing a conversation with himself, and looked up. "Did you sleep? Are you all right?"

"What do you think?" Dom said. "I want to find whoever did this to you and pound them into the ground, but since you won’t tell me who they are, there’s not much chance of that. Failing that, I want to take you to bed and show you what it’s like - what it’s like being with someonne who doesn’t demand anything from you." He shrugged. "But that’s not going to happen any time soon, now is it?" He didn’t wait for Elijah to answer. "So, failing that, how about we go out? Not just you and me, the rest of the rabble as well. You can even bring your comfort blanket along."

"Don’t," Elijah said, angry, but trying not to show it. "He’s not like that.."

"I know, I’m sorry," Dom rubbed his face. "Jealousy, I suppose. But still, what about going out tonight? Pizza, beer, filthy stories?"

"Yeah, all right." Elijah glanced up. "Billy’s either choking to death, or he’s trying to attract your attention. I’ll see you later, okay? You need a break from me, I think, and he’s waiting."

Dom looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Billy was hovering, a quizzical look on his face.

"What are you going to tell him?" Elijah asked. "You can’t just leave him wondering."

"Going to tell him the truth," Dom said. "That it makes me dizzy just to look at you. And then he’ll smack me on the ear and laugh, and he won’t ask me anything. He’ll wait until I’m ready to talk to him."

"Couldn’t do without him, could you?" Elijah asked, and Dom didn’t see the trap, nodding enthusiastically.

"So, now you know how I feel about Sean." Elijah stood up. "Don’t be a bastard. I’ll see you later, yeah? I have to spend the afternoon being emotional and big-eyed."

He walked off, brushing against Billy as he passed, and Dom heard them both laugh, watched them as they mock-scuffled, until Elijah got past and made his way out.

"Well then," Billy declared, not bothering to sit down. "What’s happening?"

*

As a night out, it was, Orli declared, "a monstrous success." They got drunk, they abused each other, and they laughed themselves helpless when Dom tried out one of Orlando’s elf-moves, and nearly ruptured himself.

"See, the thing is," Orli said, trying to help Dom up, "I’ve been practicing that for weeks. It sends your balance all funny - but you know that, don’t you?" He laughed. "Little hobbits shouldn’t try and do things that the lovely elves can do. They have big feet."

"You know what they say about big feet," Dom said, trying to focus on Orli’s hand, which seemed to be permanently just out of reach.

"Big socks," Sean and Elijah chorused, before giving into hysteria at their own wit.

Dom and Orli exchanged a glance, and Dom finally managed to grab Orli’s hand and pull himself up, wincing slightly as his back muscles protested the movement he had just attempted.

"Fuck, I don’t know how you do that," he said, his admiration for Orli going up a notch. "Especially not with your back."

"Well, I’m just committed, man," Orli said, before spinning round and pointing at Billy, who had just opened his mouth to comment. "Don’t you say a fucking word about being committed or I’ll hang you up by your foreskin."

"I didn’t," Billy protested half-heartedly, too full of laughter and alcohol to bother being offended. "I think you’re very wonderful, Orli. You’re my best mate, you are."

"Oh god," Sean whispered to Elijah. "He’s going to start on the whole drunk thing now."

"You are, too," Billy said, swinging around to face Sean and Elijah. "You’re all my best mates." He beckoned them closer, but then stepped forward himself, but didn’t seem to notice. "But Dom’s my bestest mate. I’d know if he walked into a crowded room, I’d just know"

"That’s because he’d wear something colourful, and make lots of noise … oh no, that’s me," said Orli. "Bills, you’re really pissed, aren’t you?"

"Of course not," Billy protested, squinting somewhere over Elijah’s left shoulder. "I’m Scottish, I can hold my drink. And why aren’t your lips moving when you talk?"

"Of course you can hold your drink," Dom said soothingly, taking hold of Billy’s shoulders, and turning him around, "but you’re holding everybody else’s as well. Billy, my own little skirt wearer, you are pissed as a fart."

"It’s a kilt, you heathen," Billy replied.

"Whatever." Dom put his arm around Billy. "Come on, children. We’ve got work in the morning." Orlando stationed himself on Billy’s other side, and Dom glanced over his shoulder, then rather wished he hadn’t. Elijah’s head was tucked underneath Sean’s chin, and he looked so peaceful, and so right, that Dom couldn’t stop a wave of jealousy. Then Sean glanced over at him, and Dom could read the message loud and clear: He trusts me. You can’t say that, not yet.

No, I can’t, Dom thought. But soon…

"Dom?"

"What?" Dom looked at Billy.

"Orlando’s going to be sick."

*

It was almost a week later that Dom, half dozing in the late afternoon sun, was startled awake by the ringing of the phone.

"What?" he snapped.

"Hi." Elijah’s voice was full of amusement. "You were so asleep."

"Hiya." Dom bit down on everything he wanted to say. Why don’t you call me? Why do I only see you at work? Why do I suddenly sound like a girl? "So, what’re you doing?"

"Talking to you."

"You’re a very funny man," Dom said. "No, really. There should be a law against people being so funny."

"Maybe I should have a warning stapled across my forehead."

"I have a staple gun … no, that’s a lie. But I do have lots of handy pens. I could just write it."

"You can’t spell."

"And you can?" Dom settled back on the sofa. He had no idea why Elijah had rung, so he would just do his best to enjoy himself.

"Okay," Elijah said softly. "No warning." He paused, and Dom caught himself listening to Elijah’s breathing, which freaked him slightly, since he wasn’t a teenaged girl.

"You all right?" he asked finally.

"Mmm. Just wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?"

"You know it. Where are you?"

"I’m at home. Been to see the shrink."

"Why?" Dom sat up again. "Are you all right? You’re not…"

"What? Freaking? Running around bouncing off the walls?" Elijah laughed. "No. Just the usual appointment. I just wanted to talk to you, like I said."

"I’m glad." Dom managed to swallow a bitter-tasting question about Sean or Ian, and once again, caught himself listening to Elijah’s breathing.

"You don’t have to always treat me like I’m made of glass," Elijah said suddenly. "I’m not going to break if you look at me wrong."

"What do you mean?" Dom asked. "I don’t do that."

"Yes, you do. Since - I told you all that stuff - you’ve treated me as if I’m going to break if you look at me wrong. I won’t. Haven’t so far, have I?" He paused and Dom heard him sigh. "I’m no different to how I was before. You’re the one who’s changed. I wanted to call you before, you know? I wanted to talk to you at work, but you get this look on your face, and it really fucks me off." He laughed. "Sorry, didn’t mean that to be quite so harsh."

"What look do I get?" Dom thought about getting offended, but then didn’t bother. "I don’t mean to. You should have rung. Fuck, you should have turned up on the doorstep."

"You look at me as if I’m - different. Before … before I told you, you used to punch me and slap me around - I really want to say ‘play with me’ but that just sounds too weird. The second I told you, you changed, and got all tragic on me. Dom, people will notice, and I don’t want them to. I want them to assume everything’s the same, just the same as it always was."

"I’m sorry," Dom muttered. "I didn’t know. It’s just so hard to look at you, and not think about what you said to me…" He paused, and then plunged on. "Is that why you haven’t rung me? Don’t you want to talk to me?"

"Oh, man. You sound like a teenaged girl!" Elijah’s laugh was clear and unaffected, and even though his burgeoning embarrassment, Dom felt it in every part of his body.

"God, I want to do stuff to you," he blurted. "Maybe that’s why you don’t want to see me. Maybe you know, and you don’t want me to."

There was a silence, and Dom closed his eyes and swallowed.

"No," Elijah said softly. "It’s not that. I just have so much to tell you - to admit to you - before anything likke that can happen."

"Like what?" Unconsciously, Dom’s voice softened, and he curled almost protectively around the phone. "What do you want to tell me?"

This time, Elijah’s laugh was softer, hardly a sound at all. "Do you think about me? Do you get hard thinking about me?"

"Er…" Dom spluttered, but then gave in. "Yes. You’re major wet dream material for me. I’m not lying about it, Lij. Maybe you need to know."

"You see, I don’t," Elijah said, apparently not having heard. "I think maybe there’s something wrong with me, although the shrink says there isn’t. He says it’ll be all right, and it’s just that I connect getting hard with … stuff that I don’t want to think about." He laughed. "So, what are you going to do about that, Dom? I have real trouble getting it up."

"What would I do?" Dom thought as fast as he could. He didn’t know what this was all about - he suspected that Elijah was testing him somehow - so he would have to be careful how hee answered. "I’d buy you all those games and CDs you keep burbling on about, and if that didn’t make you hard, then I’d buy you that surround sound thingie you want so much. And then I’d sit and watch you as you drooled all over your new gifts."

"Nice answer."

"Thank you." He paused. "Listen, Elijah. I don’t care, all right? You know why I’m convinced this is love? Because I don’t care. If all I do for the rest of my life is find ways to make you happy, then that’ll do for me."

Elijah huffed a laugh. "You," he said clearly. "Are a lying bastard. But it was a nice, soppy answer. And I do like the thought of somebody making me happy for the rest of my life. Listen, I’m sorry that I haven’t called you. Do you want to come over here? We can play some of those games I’ve been longing for, since after the shrink, I went on a bit of a spree."

"Just me?" Idly, Dom reached down squeezed his crotch, part of his mind amused and amazed that talking to Elijah about music and computer games could cause this reaction.

"Yes, just you." Elijah’s voice was soft, a tone Dom didn’t think he’d heard before.

"Okay, then," he said, as casually as he could. "I’ll be over in a little while."

He ended the call, and twisted over onto his back, fingers reaching for zips and buttons. First, he had something to take care of.

*

Elijah lay on his belly, surrounded by the spoils of his shopping trip. His head rested on his hands as he listened to the silence around him. When he had realised he wanted company, his first thought had been Sean, and he had spoken to him for a long time, but when Sean had asked if he was needed, he had found himself saying no.

"You sure?" Sean had asked. "You know it isn’t a problem."

"I’m okay," Elijah had answered. "I thought that maybe I would call Dom. Would you mind?"

Sean had laughed, and Elijah had realised what a foolish thing he had asked.

"Want me to answer?" Sean had asked.

"No. Sorry."

"Don’t be. Call him, and I’ll be around if you need me."

*

He heard Dom’s car pull up, and the door slam, but he didn’t stand up until the bell sounded.

"Hi," he said, opening the door, and standing back for Dom to walk past him. "Glad you’re here."

"Me, too," Dom replied. "Whoa! Fuck me… how much did you spend today?" He turned to Elijah, and grinned, and immediately any awkwardness vanished.

"A lot." Elijah’s smile was positively devilish. "But if I wasn’t intended to spend money, I would never have learned how to sign my name, now would I?"

Dom, already on his knees and sorting through games, CDs and DVDs, barely grunted a reply, and Elijah smiled, heading for the kitchen. He glanced at the clock as he went. 6pm. Time to start drinking without guilt. Excellent.

Picking up a couple of beers, he went back into the living room, and after a moment’s hesitation, sat on the floor beside Dom, who looked up, but didn’t speak, simply accepted the beer and went back to his perusal of the goodies.

But he was aware of Elijah; so aware of the heat coming off him and of his nearness, that he was having to work hard to concentrate. He took a long drink of beer, and moved to set the bottle down, his forearm brushing against Elijah’s leg.

"You’ve got some great stuff," he blurted, only too aware of how reedy and thin his voice sounded. "You should have let me come with you, though. I’m sure you’ve doubled up on some stuff."

"I have," Elijah said softly. "They’re for you."

"What?" Dom looked up. "Why?"

"To say thanks. And sorry." Elijah shrugged. "I know your taste, and I saw this stuff."

Dom looked back down, his face burning. "Thanks."

Elijah shrugged, but didn’t answer. He watched Dom’s head as it bent over the games. He watched the way his neck moulded into the shape of his shoulder, the skin smooth and pale. Studied the long back, and taking every bit of courage he had, he reached out and rested his hand gently on the cotton t-shirt, feeling the warm flesh through it, heating his already sweaty hand. It was only for the briefest of seconds, and then he pulled away again, but he could feel the sensation of muscles resting against the palm of his hand for a long time afterwards.

Dom, on his own learning curve after many conversations with Ian, didn’t respond. He simply turned his head slightly and smiled, and then turned away. It was a start, and eventually he would manage to stop his heart pounding over something as simple as a touch.

"So," he said after a minute, a little bit too brightly, "obviously I'm going to kick your arse at every single game. Which one's first?"

*

"That was a laugh," Dom declared, resting his back against the sofa. "I can’t believe you whupped me again though. One of these days I will beat the shit out of you and walk away, champion of the world. Or something." He picked up a random bottle of beer, and peered at it, but it was empty. "Bummer."

He turned his head, and for a second, he stopped breathing.

Elijah was asleep, or as near as made no difference, curled up on the sofa, head buried in the cushions, hands clenched into fists against his chest. Dom wanted nothing more than to reach out and just touch him, nothing else. But he didn’t. Elijah trusted him enough to sleep in his presence, that should be enough. He clenched his hands into fists as well, aching to touch, but knowing he couldn’t.

Shifting until he was on his knees, his face close to Elijah’s, he whispered, "I should go."

Elijah’s eyes flickered open and then closed again, and he shook his head slightly, his fists moving up under his chin. "I’m all right. Just tired."

"It’s late," Dom said, having absolutely no real idea of the time. It was dark, that was enough. "You need to sleep." He pushed himself to his feet. "Come on. Let’s get you to bed."

"You understand, don’t you?" Elijah muttered as Dom pulled him to his feet. He rocked slightly, and then, unable to stand upright, let himself lean against Dom, who felt it in every nerve ending.

"I try," he managed to say. "Come on."

He led Elijah up the stairs and pushed him gently onto the bed, thanking whatever god was watching over him that Elijah was only wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and so Dom wasn’t faced with the agonising problem of how far he was allowed to go.

"You going to be okay?" he asked, as Elijah grunted and turned over. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

He had made it as far as the door when Elijah spoke, so softly that for a second he thought it was his imagination, conjuring the words he wanted to hear.

"Stay. You’ve drunk too much. Just stay."

Dom swallowed convulsively. "Okay. All right. I’ll get the blankets out of the cupboard…"

"No." Again, the voice was quiet, but this time Dom could hear the courage behind it. Elijah wasn’t as close to sleep as he had thought. "Stay here."

"Are you sure?" Dom wanted to reach into his own mouth and rip his tongue out. "No, sorry, don’t answer that … I mean, you wouldn’t have said it, right?" Shut the fuck up, Monaghan!

He walked carefully towards the bed, and sat down. He felt, rather than saw, Elijah tense, then relax.

"It’s okay," he said. "I’ll just stay here until you go to sleep. Would that be all right?"

"Sure," Elijah replied. "That would be …. sure."

"You’re trying so hard," Dom said. "I can’t even begin to tell you how much that means."

Elijah didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled over, turning his back on Dom, and willed himself to relax. He was fine. He wanted Dom here. He was fine.

He felt the mattress sag, and then he rolled backwards slightly as Dom settled, and he realised that the thickness of the blankets were still between them, and he could have laughed for sheer relief. Dom, whether through wisdom or simple instinct, kept a barrier between them. He felt a hand briefly touch his back, echoing his own move of earlier, and then there was silence.

He could feel himself relax, suprisingly secure. Once, he had thought that Dom wasn’t able to hold the voices at bay as well as Sean could, but, as he listened to Dom’s breathing settle and lengthen, he thought that maybe things were different now.

PART 5

Ian, as was his wont, made the rather foolish little trip from ‘his’ door of the trailer, to the one used by the hobbits, in order to say good morning.

"Hi, Ian," Sean said, looking up from his coffee. "How’s it going?"

Ian’s glance slid past Sean, and then back again. "Very well," he replied. "Very well indeed."

Elijah was bent over Dom’s make up station, gesturing wildly and holding an animated conversation. Ian had no idea what the two of them were talking about, but it didn’t matter. Elijah was alight with confidence and happiness.

Ian looked back at Sean, and raised his eyebrows. Sean shrugged and smiled. "Well, I haven’t heard from him for about ten days, I guess," he said quietly. "Or at least, not late at night when he’s fighting monsters."

"Has he been to see you?"

"Oh, sure," Sean said, glancing over his shoulder. "But just to hang out with, you know? Watch tv, run scenes. He’s changing, I think. It’s good to see."

"Are you sure?" Ian asked. "You don’t miss him needing you?"

"No." Sean was very definite. "I wanted him to fly, and I think he’s maybe on the edge of the nest at last."

"Good. I’m so pleased." Ian raised his voice. "I’ll see you all later," he said, backing out. "I’ll leave you to your hobbiting."

*

"So, are you coming, Bills?" Elijah hopped a bit as he accidentally stood on his own - or rather, Frodo’s - foot. "Come on. We haven’t been out for - oh, a couple of days, at least."

Billy laughed, but it turned into a coughing fit which left him pasty and sweating. "I don’t think so," he said finally. "The only thing I want to do is go home to my bed, and possibly die."

"You have a man-cold," Sean said, appearing at Elijah’s shoulder. "That’s what Chris calls them. Apparently, they’re much worse than normal colds, or at least that’s what men think."

"Well, it is worse," Billy said, somewhat aggrieved. "It may even be pneumonia."

"Man-cold," Sean said again, putting his arm around Elijah’s shoulders. "I won’t be coming out either, Lij, sorry. You and Dom go and have a drink for me, all right?"

"Well, that’s another half pint," Billy said, still offended at the man-cold crack. "Why aren’t you going? You ill?"

"No. I am mature and married, and therefore I do not need to go out all the time," Sean said grandly.

"You’re going to have an early night, aren’t you?" Elijah said, with a laugh. "You’re just a tired old man."

"It’s true," Sean answered gloomily. "I was nearly asleep on my feet today, and I think my body’s telling me something."

"Wimp," muttered Billy.

"Man-cold," Sean answered. "You," he said, squeezing Elijah’s shoulders, "have a great night, and don’t do anything too outrageous. I can see the headline now: ‘Frodo Baggins in jail’."

"I’ll be good," Elijah promised. "See you tomorrow."

*

This, thought Elijah, is how it should be. He was tucked into Dom’s side, warm and comfortable, laughing about nothing as they walked along the street. I hope it lasts.

"This one?" Dom said, his arm around Elijah’s shoulders. He peered in through the door of the bar. "Looks okay. Not much blood on the walls." He stepped towards the door, but stopped when Elijah stopped suddenly. Dom braked hard, turning back.

"What?" he asked. "Lij, what’s wrong?"

"I can’t go in there," Elijah said, edging away from the door. "I can’t."

"Why? God, Elijah, what’s wrong?" Dom was beginning to get worried.

"Well, you know … they’re playing Stevie Wonder." The expression on Elijah’s face changed from nervous to mischievous, and Dom just stopped himself from laughing out loud. For what felt like the first time, Elijah was relaxing.

"You can be such a git," was all he said, swinging around and wrapping his arm around Elijah’s shoulders again. Elijah laughed and put his arm around Dom’s waist. Still laughing, they went to the next bar, which was crowded, but not overly so, and they were able to find a booth to themselves.

"This is good," Dom said after they were comfortably settled with the first beer of the evening. "It’s nice, just going out, you know? Just us."

"Yeah." Elijah picked up his bottle and clinked it gently against Dom’s. "It is." He took an overlarge mouthful of beer and swallowed it with a hiccup, making Dom smile.

"You going to drink at that pace all night? You’ll be pissed by the time you’re on your third. Well, second for you. Lightweight."

"And of course, you’re such a man," Elijah teased. "Take you all of two and half bottles." He took another drink. "Go get another one, would you? And get some chips or something. I’m starved."

"Whatever you say, master," Dom said, sliding out of the booth. "I’ll go get supplies. And you mean crisps, I assume?"

"I mean chips, British wanker."

"Yankee brat."

*

Dom picked up the beers, clenched the bag of crisps between his teeth, and turned to make his way back to the booth. He was more involved with looking where he was going than concentrating on his destination, since he knew that Elijah would laugh until he cried if he so much as spilled a drop.

He made it safely to the booth, and only then realised that Elijah wasn’t alone. He was sitting, arms wrapped around himself, eyes cast down - the confident Elijah of only minutes ago nowhere to be found - pressed into the corner by a large figure who had his back to the rest of the bar, and so had missed Dom’s arrival.

He put the beers on the table and took the crisps out of his mouth. "Hi," he said. "Sorry, man, only brought enough for two.

"Thanks," said the stranger. "Piss off, then."

"No, can’t do that," said Dom, still lightly, non-threatening. "See you around though, yeah?"

Elijah’s head came up, but he didn’t look at Dom. In fact, Dom’s stomach knotted as he realised that Elijah wasn’t really looking at anything.

"Come on." The stranger dismissed Dom, and turned again to Elijah. "You didn’t mind the last time."

"Mind now," muttered Elijah. "Just fuck off and leave me alone, okay?"

Dom heard the words, but didn’t let himself think about them. Now was not the time to do that.

"You heard him," he said. "Leave him alone."

"Why? You having the first go tonight?" The stranger briefly looked at Dom, and then dismissed him. "Well, I guess I’ll just have to catch up with you later." As Dom looked on, frozen in place, the stranger’s hand disappeared below the table. Elijah flinched, but didn’t react in any other way.

"Leave him alone, you fucker!"

The stranger backed out of the booth, and ignored Dom completely.

"See you later," he said to Elijah, and strolled off, swallowed up by the largely indifferent crowd.

"Are you all right?" Dom slid into the booth, reaching out and putting his hand on Elijah’s arm.

"Sure. Fine." He paused. "Don’t really want to be here, though. Can we go somewhere else?"

"Anywhere you want." Dom’s feelings were beginning to coagulate in his belly. He had no idea what was going on, and he had a dreadful feeling that all the emotions he had tried to hard to damp down were going to explode. He really needed to get away from Elijah before he became the unwitting target.

"I can’t get out until you move," Elijah pointed out calmly, and Dom slithered backwards until there was enough room for Elijah to slide out and lead the way out of the bar.

Elijah wanted to get out, get away. Away from the bar, away from Dom, away from having to think. He hadn’t recognised the goon who had trapped him, but he knew what was wanted, knew what was coming, and he had tried to get rid before Dom had come back from the bar, but the guy had been persistent … and now he would have to explain himself.

It started easily enough.

"What was all that about?" Dom asked, walking close enough to Elijah that they could share body heat, but not touching.

"Just a guy, you know." Elijah shrugged, and cringed inside at how casual he sounded. Oh, there was going to be a payment demanded for this.

"Do guys …" Dom tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a wheeze. "Do guys often try and pick you up? He sounded as if he knew you."

"No .. no, he didn’t know me."

"He said that - well, what it sounded like - was that he’d …" Dom trailed off again, not wanting to say it. He didn’t want it all to come to a head out in the street. "Let’s go home," he said softly, almost pleading. "I don’t want to be out here anymore."

Elijah paused, looking down a side street. He knew this one, he’d been here before, a long time ago now. It wouldn’t take much effort just to go down there. Something made him glance over his shoulder and he saw the man from the bar, no more than two dozen paces behind them, a look on his face that Elijah recognised. He shuddered, and pulled his jacket more tightly around him.

"Don’t," Dom said, not really knowing what he meant. "Please, let’s just go." Elijah didn’t speak.

"Elijah…" Dom said, confused and starting to get angry. "Come on."

Come on, Lijah…

This time, Elijah automatically did as he was told.

The silence in the cab wasn’t broken when they reached Dom’s house, and Dom could feel himself growing more and more tense, as Elijah sat silently on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes wide open and staring at nothing.

"You want a drink?" Dom finally asked, trying to make his voice as normal as possible.

"No."

"Something to eat?" He opened the refrigerator door.

"No."

Dom closed it again, as carefully as he could, trying hard not to slam it.

"Want to watch a film?"

"No."

Dom moved out of the kitchen and into the living room, switching on the overhead light, and making Elijah blink in the sudden light.

"Okay. Want to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"No."

And Dom snapped.

"Well that’s a real shame, Lijah, because I’ve fucking had it! I love you, I love you like I didn’t think it was possible to love someone, and you , but you - since the day you told me what happened to you, you’ve never said anything about it again! You’ve never opened up to me, never told me anything about yourself, never even told me if you had a fucking dog or cat when you were a kid! It’s one-fucking-sided, Elijah, and it’s not fair! I thought this was working. Was I wrong? Have I just been living in some little bubble?"

Elijah was silent for a second, and then, a small, infuriating smile on his face, muttered, "Dog."

"It’s not bloody funny!" Dom was spluttering, so angry that his words were falling over themselves. "Who was that guy?"

"I never said it was funny, Dom," said Elijah softly. "And I have no idea who that guy was."

"Well, he seemed to know you."

"Well, probably because he’s fucked me!" Elijah positively exploded off the seat, pushing Dom in the chest, and making him stagger backwards. "Jesus Christ, Dom, don’t you get it? Are you really so fucking naïve that you don’t understand anything?" He stopped, breathing hard. He wanted to die.

"What do you mean?" Dom asked slowly.

"You think you love me, right?" Elijah said slowly. "Well, you don’t know who I am, so how can you? How can you love someone like me? I’ve spent the past five years of my life letting people fuck me, sucking them." He stepped forward until he was almost nose to nose with Dom. "It’s all I know how to do." He smiled, but it was a smile like none Dom had seen before, full of so much bitterness. "So many of them that I don’t remember their faces, and I never knew their names." Elijah was very calm as he stepped around Dom and headed for the door.

"Just one thing," he said. "What do you mean, I’ve never told you anything about myself? I told you that I was held down and fucked until I wanted to die." He shrugged. "Some people are just never satisfied. Still, this was fun. Let’s not do it again, all right?"

No grand slamming of the door, just a movement of air and the briefest of sounds, and then silence.

"No!" Dom almost screamed the word. "No! Not again. You fucking little bastard! You’re not walking out on me again!" He threw the door open, but too late. There was no sign of Elijah. "Make sure you fucking go to Sean!" Dom screamed into the night. "Don’t do anything stupid." His voice dropped. "Oh, god. Oh, Elijah."

*

Sean opened the door a crack, and then flung it open as soon as he realised who was on the doorstep.

"Jesus, Sean, I’ve really blown it." Elijah practically fell into Sean’s arms. "I didn’t mean it, I didn’t want him to find out like this."

"Find out what?" Sean kicked the door closed. "What’s happened?"

The story fell out in fits and starts, Elijah pacing around the whole of the ground floor of the house. He made it almost to the end of the tale before he picked up the first of the ornaments Dom had played with, and with barely a glance at Sean, smashed it on the floor. Then the second. And the third. He was seriously considering a dramatic sweep of the arm to clear the whole of them, when he felt Sean’s arms go around him from behind, holding him close, whispering to him to calm down, quiet down. Be calm, Elijah, and it was only then that he heard the great whooping breaths coming out of him, as close to hysteria as he had ever been in his life.

"I’ve fucked it up," he panted, struggling to be released. "Everything I touch, I fuck up. Why did I think for a second…"

"No, you haven’t," Sean said, stepping back. "You just need to talk to him, explain to him…"

"Explain what? What is there I can possibly say to him? You weren’t there, Sean, you don’t know."

"I do," Sean answered. "I know exactly. I know how Dom feels, of course I do." With the ease of familiarity, he reached out and shook Elijah slightly. "Don’t let this ruin you."

"Too fucking late," Elijah answered. "It’s really too late."

*

Ian came awake like a startled cat, and it took him a second to understand that the unholy noise he could hear was nothing more sinister than the ringing of the telephone. Flailing slightly, he winced as his forearm connected with soft flesh, and he made a mental note to apologise to poor Nick later.

"Yes, hello?"

"It’s Dom."

That was all it took - the tone of Dom’s voice brought Ian fully awake, and he sat up. "Stay where you are. I’m just going downstairs."

He leaned over and kissed Nick, who mumbled, still not properly awake, and slipping on a robe, carried the handset downstairs, going into the kitchen and automatically putting the kettle on.

"What’s wrong?" he said at last. "What’s happened?"

"Did you know?" Dom sounded cold and rather distant. "Did you know that he’s been fucking around with whatever willing stranger he could find?"

"It wasn’t up to me to tell you, you know that. I take it that he’s just told you?"

"He didn’t tell me. Tell me is not the word for what he did. Screamed it in my face, that’s a better description."

"Oh, Dom…" Ian sat at the table and rested his head in his hand. "Tell me."

"I just love him, you know?" Dom paused. "Isn’t that weird? He’s told me some horrible things about himself, about what he’s done, what he’s had done, and you know, I think he wants me to hate him, because that’s what he expects to happen. But I don’t. I can’t, Ian. I just … if this is love, it’s crap. I fucking hate it."

"Well, it’s certainly not all roses around the door," Ian agreed dryly. "But, my darling, I think you have perhaps started with the worst aspect of it; finding out about your partner’s past is never comfortable, and when the past is as dark and painful as poor Elijah’s - well, I don’t envy you."

"Don’t call him that," Dom snapped. "There’s nothing ‘poor’ about him. He would hate it if you pitied him, I know that much."

"You’re right, I’m sorry." Ian looked longingly at the kettle and decided a cup of tea was definitely in order. "Now, tell me what’s happened…"

*

Elijah curled in closer to Sean’s side, and sighed.

"You all right?" Sean asked, looking down. The light from the flickering television cast strange shadows and angles onto Elijah’s face, hollowing his face out, showing the man lurking below the surface of the boy. As he watched, Sean realised that he understood what Elijah would look like in 10 years.

"I think," Elijah answered, screwing his face up in a way which vanquished the man immediately. "I just … christ, I fucked up, you know?" He craned his neck so that he could look properly at Sean. "I need to talk to him."

"I thought we’d established this."

"No, you don’t get me. I need to talk to him now." Elijah moved as if he wanted to climb out of Sean’s arms, before he paused. "Do you mind? I know I was going to stay with you."

Sean laughed. "How could I mind? All that concerns me is your happiness. I’ve been waiting for the time to come when you need him more than me."

"No," Elijah protested. "I don’t need him more. I need him … differently. I can’t let this fester between us, and the longer I leave it, the worse it will be. I still need you."

"I know." Sean nudged him. "Go on."

Needing no further encouragement, Elijah climbed off the sofa. "You’re just about the best friend I could have," he said. "Thank you."

Sean listened as Elijah’s car pulled away, and then turned the television off and climbed up the stairs, his body longing for his bed. Hopefully this was it, now. No more early-morning dramas, no more tantrums. Just a friend who had finally found what he wanted. He hoped so.

*

Dom had finished his conversation with Ian, and was sitting disconsolately on the edge of the bed when he heard the familiar sound of Elijah’s car. His first instinct was to stand up and make his way downstairs; it didn’t seem right to face him in the bedroom. Then he wondered what he should be doing - watching TV? No time to turn the set on. Be in the kitchen? Doing what?

By the time he had finished worrying, it was too late anyway, as the door opened softly, then closed - it struck him then how quietly Elijah closed doors. He was such a noisy person, and yet when it came to doors, he was almost silent.

He was still pondering, when Elijah appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Hi," he said. "Knew you’d be up here."

"How?" Dom cleared his throat. "How?"

"Because the light was on, and downstairs is in complete darkness. I could have been a detective."

"Oh. Yeah, right."

"I’m sorry, Dom." Elijah sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "I’m sorry for what I said, and for everything I’ve ever done. You’ve been so fucking patient with me, and I owe you so much that I can’t ever repay." He moved forward slightly, gazing at the downturned head in front of him. "I only know one way to pay people back, and you won’t let me do that, so …" he shrugged. "I don’t know what I’m expected to do."

Dom stared at the pattern on the carpet, his eyes tracing the swirls, trying to follow them to their source, but without success.

"So, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, and that I know I fucked up so badly that there’s no going back." Elijah took another step forward. "I was going to tell you, I swear I was. I just - I just wanted to - pretend, I guess. Pretend that things were normal." He sighed. "But I know that I was fooling myself."

He turned, ready to leave.

"Don’t," Dom said suddenly. "Don’t go, all right?" He looked up, but focused on Elijah’s midriff, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Lij, I understand that none of this - none of what happened - is your fault. Not even the stuff with all the guys. I understand that. But right now, I can’t get my head around it. You’ll fuck around, but you won’t even kiss me?"

"I don’t," Elijah answered, his gut twisting. "Kissing - Dom, it’s so intimate, it’s the most intimate thing one person can do to another. Much more than fucking someone or blowing them, or anything."

"Really?" Dom’s eyes lifted slightly, moving to Elijah’s collar bone.

"Really. If I kissed you, I would be making a commitment to you, a promise, and I don’t know if you want that."

"Do you want that commitment?" Dom asked, finally meeting Elijah’s gaze. "Is it what you want?"

"It doesn’t matter what I want…" Elijah began.

"Yes, it fucking does! Stop doing that. Do you want that?"

"Yes!" Elijah’s head snapped up into the proud angle Dom was coming to recognise. "Yes, I do, but I’ve done stuff that you must - you’ll always think about it."

"No," Dom said. "I won’t forget it, but that’s a different thing. Do you promise me that you will never do it again? That if, 10 years from now, we have a humungous fucking argument, and you decide to throw a queenie strop, you won’t go and pick up some leather queen? You’ll just do a dramatic stomp out of the front door, and then come in through the back? We’ll leave the door permanently unlocked if that’s what you want."

"I don’t…" Elijah began.

"Shut up!" Dom stepped closer, and reached out, touching Elijah’s shoulder. "Just shut up, Elijah. And come to bed." His voice softened. "I’m learning, okay? So are you. We will get there."

This time, for the first time, as Dom turned out the bathroom light and approached the bed, Elijah pulled back the blankets, and after a moment’s hesitation, Dom accepted, sliding under the blankets, instead of settling on top of them. When he put his arm tentatively on Elijah’s back, the t-shirt sliding loosely over too-thin flesh, Elijah didn’t pull away; he didn’t slide forward into Dom’s arms, as Dom had secretly been hoping, but he didn’t pull away.

PART 6

"You’re a sunshiney little fucker these days," Billy said idly, sprawling on the ground beside Dom. "I can only guess that this means lover boy has given in and you’re doing the foul deed?"

"What I’m doing with Elijah is my own business, you nosey git," Dom answered, the prissiness in his own voice making him smile. "We have a deep and meaningful relationship, and so - there."

"Nice ending to that. A very well thought out sentence." Billy reached out and picked a blade of grass, splitting it and putting it in his mouth, sucking out the sweetness. "Want one?"

"No, I’m not a sheep, you perv."

"Just thought you might like to practice your sucking technique."

"God, you’re foul," Dom laughed and kicked out at Billy, who giggled and shoved back, which led, inevitably, to a mock-fight, only ending when Dom, in a head lock, admitted defeat.

"There." Billy released him and sat down again. "Don’t fuck with your elders." He scanned the small crowd of people in front of them. "Oh look, there he is. Lover boy. See, the light radiates off him."

Unable to help himself, Dom glanced over, and felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Elijah was wrapped around Sean, Sean holding him tightly around the waist, and laughing. He looked ten years younger, and ridiculously pleased with himself. Much as Dom knew that he shouldn’t feel like this about Sean - Sean was a good guy, a kind guy - he still had too much of Elijah.

"You two need to get yourselves sorted," Billy said, following Dom’s line of sight. "There’s such a weird energy with you when you’re together. Are you jealous of him? That’s fucking stupid. Elijah’s only got eyes for you. Big, googly, scary eyes for you."

"I know," Dom said. "I’m not." He watched as Sean released Elijah, who refused to let go, hanging on with his arms around Sean’s neck. If he listened carefully, Dom thought he could hear that stupid, wonderful giggle, and before he knew quite where he was, he was on his feet.

"Oh, don’t," Billy said, looking up and raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun’s glare. "Don’t do anything stupid, Dom."

"I’m not," Dom answered. "But you know me, if I get something in my head, I have to sort it. Bills, this is the last thing, you know? The last thing that’s stopping us."

"What do you mean?"

"I’ll tell you when I’m allowed, but let’s just say there’s been a lot of shit we’ve had to wade through to get here, and I just have to do this one thing, then we’re almost home." He kicked Billy gently in the side. "See you later."

*

"Get off me, now," Sean laughed. "You’re breaking my neck."

"No I’m not. Well, actually I think I am. You’ve gone a very unhealthy colour."

"That’s because I’m wearing a Frodo around my neck." Sean wriggled. "Get off."

Elijah let go, and staggered slightly, his hand wrapping in Sean’s cloak. Sean looked down and gave an exaggerated sigh, but didn’t do anything. If Elijah had decided he needed contact, then there really was nothing he could do.

"Hi." Elijah looked around and grinned at Dom, but didn’t release his grip. Sean, in his turn, looked up and met Dom’s eyes, not surprised to see the coldness there. At least, as he looked at Elijah, the coldness vanished, so Sean knew where the animosity was directed.

"What you doing?" Elijah asked. "Thought you were supposed to be doing close ups."

"Just having a break," Dom said, his eyes moving back to Sean. "There’s only so much emoting you can do. Well, not you, you can emote until the cows come home."

"I can emote about the cows coming home."

"Listen, mate, Billy’s up there in the long grass. I think he’s a bit lost. He’s organising a surprise party for my birthday, and he’s been dropping a million hints a minute about presents and stuff. Put us all out of our misery and go and talk to him, would you? Otherwise I’ll kill him with my bare hands."

Elijah looked at Dom, his eyes narrowed, and then back at Sean.

"Okay," he said. "I’ll go. But since I’m not stupid, I’m not going to look for Billy. I’ll be around when you’ve done fighting over the territory, okay?" He smiled at Sean, and then transferred exactly the same look to Dom. "Don’t know why you have to do this, but I guess you do." As he moved away, he tangled his fingers in Dom’s.

"So, do you want to have this conversation in public, or shall we go somewhere a little more private?" Sean asked.

"Not too many places we can go around here," Dom replied. "but I don’t think we should talk about stuff in the middle of a crowd."

"Okay." Sean looked over his shoulder, and then nodded towards the trailers. "They should be empty now. We can go over there."

Dom followed, vaguely annoyed that he hadn’t thought of it, was having to step back and let Sean take the lead, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Sean opened the door to the hobbit trailer and peered in, before nodding and opening the door slightly wider.

Dom hardly had time to close the door behind him, before Sean spoke.

"Okay, Dom, what’s the problem here? Could it be that you’re just a little bit jealous?"

"Jealous?" Dom laughed, but it was a strange, screeching sound. "I think you’ve maybe got that the wrong way round. You’re losing him, don’t you get it?"

"I never had him," Sean answered, still reasonable. "I don’t know why you believe that I have some kind of hidden agenda, here. I just want him to be happy. He’s my friend, Dom. I love him."

It was the opening Dom had been waiting for, and before he quite knew where he was, he had taking a huge step, closing the distance between himself and Sean, invading space in a way he knew was incredibly rude.

"If you love him, why the fuck didn’t you protect him?" He prodded his index finger into Sean’s chest with each word. "Why did you let him go out and put himself in danger? Some mate you are!"

Sean attempted to back away, but Dom followed, and eventually he found himself against the wall, his face damp with Dom’s spit, the edge of his back pressed painfully against a sharp edge of what felt like a mirror.

"I never let him do anything," he said. "In fact, he has never done it - never gone with a stranger - since he told me. And Dom?" Sean paused just long enough to attract Dom’s attention. "That’s quite a while."

"You should have taken better care of him." Dom was floundering, and he knew he was. Sean was going to win this, calm and collected; he could feel himself coming apart at the seams, and knew that he was at a complete disadvantage, too emotional to fight properly.. But he hurt, and he wanted to make sure Sean knew that.

"I took care of him," Sean replied. "I still take care of him. I will take care of him until the day he comes to me and tells me he doesn’t need it. And just because he loves you - which he does, by the way - doesn’t mean that I’m superfluous. I give him something you can’t, just as you give him something I can’t offer."

"What do you give him?" Dom just missed a sneer. "I know what you want to give him, but that’s my job, or it will be."

Sean was silent for a moment, and then took a deep breath. "I refuse to respond to that. You should know better." He paused, and then continued in a softer tone. "He loves you, Dom, you can see it in the way he is with you, the way he looks at you. Hell, even the way he says your name. You are so lucky. If you play your cards right, then you’re in for a fantastic - however long it lasts. I’ve been there, man. I know how it feels. I have that."

Dom raised his hand, digging his knuckles into the tense flesh between his eyes. "I’m just so fucking jealous," he finally admitted. "I didn’t know that he hadn’t seen anybody - he just … man, he was angry when he told me. I don’t know what to do, you know? Sometimes, I think I’ve just about cracked it, and then other times, he’s just as far away from me as ever."

"You’re much closer than you realise," Sean said. "I’ve seen the way he looks at you, remember? Just hang on in there for a while longer."

"When it comes, when it finally happens…" Dom trailed off, not looking at Sean.

"What?"

"Will you back off? Will you let him - and me - make our own mistakes? Find our own way?"

Sean smiled, and Dom felt his own mouth twitch in response. Sean had a very infectious smile. "When that time comes, I will be so happy. Watching as you find your way? That’s a beautiful way of putting it, and although I may occasionally offer you a helping hand, I will never interfere."

"So do we have your blessing?"

"Do you need it?" Sean’s mouth quirked again.

"I think we do, yes." Dom said seriously. "I think he needs it."

"Then you have it." The smile fell away. "Both of you."

*

When they re-emerged, the first person they both saw was Elijah.

"All done?" he asked. He lifted his head and sniffed exaggeratedly. "I love the smell of testosterone in the morning."

"Idiot," Sean said affectionately. "Yes, Elijah, we’re done, thank you for asking. And you love it that we had to do it, don’t even think about denying it."

Elijah looked at them both fondly. "I just hope that you understand now. It is possible to love more than one person, you know." He stopped, and his eyes took on an inward stare. "Jesus. I’ve never done that before. Never thought I loved anybody, never mind more than one person. Never thought it would happen." He looked up again and smiled. "Progress, I would say."

"I would say so," agreed Dom, stepping forward and putting his arm around Elijah’s shoulders. "I’m starving. Come and keep me company?" He paused. "You want to come, Sean?"

"No. Thanks, though," Sean answered. "I appreciate being asked."

"Anytime," Elijah said. "Right, Dom?"

"Yeah, sure," Dom gritted. "Anytime."

*

"D’you think you’ll ever be friends with Sean?" Elijah asked that evening, as he sat on the kitchen counter watching as Dom cooked dinner. "I mean, real friends?"

"Real friends?" Dom shrugged. "To be honest, I don’t know. It’s not that I dislike him, Lij, of course it isn’t. It’s just in this one bloody area that we seem to clash. But I think an awful lot of it’s in my imagination. I don’t actually think he has a malicious bone in his body."

"He doesn’t. What you see is what you get." Elijah reached over and helped himself from the salad bowl. "Why can’t you accept that he’s my Billy?" He shrugged. "He’s my Sam."

"To anybody else, that is going to sound really weird. Don’t get into the habit of saying that." Dom slapped Elijah’s hand away. "And stop eating all the salad, you pig."

"Yes, mom." Elijah slid off the counter. "I’ll leave you to it, master cook. Chef. Whatever. I’ll go and find some mood music."

A minute later, the most horrendous noise blared from the living room, before being hurriedly silenced.

"Sorry," Elijah’s voice floated into the kitchen. "That’s only mood music if you’re a psychopath." The next choice was perfect; mellow blues, nicely setting the tone.

"That’s nice," Dom declared, moving into the living room. "The food’ll take care of itself for a bit. What do you want to do?"

"Sit," Elijah declared, patting the seat next to him. "Just come and sit."

"Okay." Dom sat. He tried not to jump when Elijah’s hand gently stroked his leg.

"I’ve hardly even touched you, have I?" he said softly. "I think I’ve been waiting for permission, but you’re not going to do that, because I don’t need permission to touch you." He glanced up. "That’s right, isn’t it?"

"That’s right," Dom agreed gravely. He itched to cover Elijah’s hand with his own. "You can do whatever you want with me."

"No, not anything," Elijah corrected him. "I can do whatever I want as long as it’s what you want. It’s not right to do anything else."

Dom gave into his instinct, and slowly moved his hand until it was over Elijah’s. To his pleased surprise, Elijah turned his own hand over and moved until their fingers were tangled loosely together.

Dom felt a weird kind of peace settle over him. There were so many problems still to come, of that he was sure, but to have reached this - plateau - of perfect peace was an achievement for both of them.

"I’ve been thinking," Elijah’s voice was still soft, but Dom could feel sweat building on his palm. "About stuff. About lots of stuff. I want to do something for you that will make you understand…"

"Understand what?"

By way of answer, Elijah tilted his head, and slowly reached up. He gently kissed the corner of Dom’s mouth. He didn’t pull away immediately, and Dom could feel warm breath on his face.

"Understand this," Elijah whispered, and then kissed him again.

Dom shifted, hooking one foot onto the sofa and moving so that he was sideways in his seat, facing Elijah, still covering his hand. With the free hand he reached up and cupped Elijah’s face, his heart pounding so hard he thought blood was about to come out of his ears. But he kept his movements slow and calm, determined not to ruin this.

"I understand," he replied. He leaned forward slowly, giving Elijah time to move away, but he didn’t. In fact, he leaned forward slightly and the next kiss was warm and soft.

"Dinner’s nearly ready," Dom muttered, as he pulled away.

"Yeah," agreed Elijah. "Smells gorgeous."

Dom ran his thumb across Elijah’s lips.

"Slow and steady?" Elijah asked, his voice soft.

Dom kissed Elijah’s cheek, and then pulled away, standing up.

"Slow and steady," he agreed. "We’re nearly there."

And as he made his way into the kitchen, floating a good foot off the ground, he knew that he was right. They were nearly there.

Elijah watched him go, and then leaned his head against the back of the sofa, listening for something. After a second, he smiled to himself. Nothing to hear.

At last.

The End

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