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Book 3, Chapter 2: Tiny Little Fractures (1/3)
Title: Tiny Little Fractures (1/3)
Authors:
kiltsandlollies and
escribo
Characters: Dominic, Elijah
Word count: 2310
Summary: A night out, going nowhere fast.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
Digging his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, Dominic comes up with a handful of coins that don't add up to much. He lines them up on the counter, a finger on top of each coin, moving them in circles as he considers his options, such as they are. He needs a drink, and not because he's become an alcoholic--at least not yet, and he's sworn to himself that he'll stop long before it gets to that point--but because he's not nearly drunk enough to stop remembering how Billy had stood directly in front of him earlier today, close enough to touch if Dominic had had the nerve to stretch his hand out, flattening one hand on the top of Dominic's desk in emphasis even as Elijah had fidgeted impatiently next to them for attention and to answer Billy's relentless questions. The words your argument is weak, your logic flawed had been scrawled in Billy's spidery green ink across the bottom of Dominic's last paper with a force that Dominic thought was undue, and he'd taken it as a personal dig. It was his fault--Billy's fault--if Billy hadn't taught him enough, hadn't demanded more of them both. Hadn't protected them both.
Ever since Billy had ended things, Dominic's felt like Billy's relieved to be rid of him, ignoring Dominic except in class, during which he questions Dominic with all the compassion of a firing squad about readings he must know that Dominic hasn't even attempted and treats Dominic to the look that conveys his disappointment so eloquently. Even before they became lovers, Billy had talked to Dominic about things that Dominic had never considered--things Billy had picked up through his travels, his schooling, and the few of his passions to which Dominic's been privy--and then had listened with interest when Dominic had talked about living in Germany before coming to Britain and having to adjust. Billy had made Dominic feel like an equal--like a friend. The nothingness between them now pains Dominic most of all, while Billy seems to have slipped back into the role of professor and advisor without any sign of regret or remorse. Worse, Billy seems to honestly believe that Dominic can go back to his role as student in the same dispassionate way.
What Dominic feels now is empty--hollow. He's spent too many nights in the clubs around and just outside of Baskerville lately, just barely drunk enough on the little bit of money his mother's sent him for food that everything is bleary and the edges of his memories aren't so sharp. Even with that, he can barely eat or sleep, and he can't rid himself of the ache in his chest. The coins in front of him are the last for at least the next week unless he makes his way back to the art department for work he'd abandoned in favour of spending more time with Billy--or unless he calls home to ask for more, and suffers through a lecture from either or both of his parents about budgets and carelessness.
Dominic curls his fist around the coins and swallows back the sudden ache at the back of his throat, the burn behind his eyes. The anger is still something that catches Dominic by surprise. He understands the sadness, the loss and loneliness, even the pain of betrayal, but when he was growing up, anger had been the sole domain of his father. He'd stomped it out of his sons with a strong hand and religion, and it had never taken root in Dominic's gentler nature--a credit to his character, it seemed, until he'd come out to his parents. Now, angry at the world and especially with Billy, Dominic has nowhere to take his frustration.
"Have to tell you, Dom, you really do look like hell."
Dominic cuts his eyes in Elijah's direction, both surprised and not to find Elijah beside him. He's had the habit lately of appearing wherever and whenever Dominic found himself sinking hard into that pit of anger, but at least tonight there's an excuse for it; they'd come here together after a few hours with Orlando at a pub, listening to Orlando's new mate David pluck at his guitar and rasp convincingly into an old microphone. Where he'd been content to sit and listen to music for ages before, Dominic found himself earlier tonight too restless to pay proper attention and too easily swayed by Elijah's suggestion that they get the fuck out of here before I fall asleep.
"Not sleeping," Dominic says, less an answer than another excuse that he's getting adept at handing out to his friends like candy. His voice doesn't carry much conviction and Elijah just shrugs it off, as he does most things. "I didn't think you'd be around tonight, even after Orlando said you might. Doesn't seem like there's a lot you'd be interested in. Here. Baskerville," Dominic explains, unsure and for the most uncaring whether Elijah's even listening.
"Especially not here, right? This place is a dump," Elijah says as he leans more heavily against the bar, pushing himself in between Dominic and the man to his left. Feeling crowded, Dominic looks around the club as if seeing it for the first time: the small, open warehouse with makeshift bars at each end and a DJ booth in the middle, the reverb that shakes through Dominic's body, the screech of a remixed Madonna song and the cigarette smoke that hangs in the flashing lights like a fog--all of it an assault on his senses. He hadn't thought the whole place that bad before; hell, he'd barely noticed most of it before, at least not until Elijah, another unwelcome intruder, had pointed it out.
"Not really your kind of place," Dominic says, already bored with the conversation and company. He pushes aside thoughts of Billy, of better nights spent in even better company, and reaches instead and again for his empty glass.
"Probably shouldn't be yours either. Only reason to come here is if you're looking to get laid." The guy behind them moves at the sound of Elijah's drawl, throwing a look as irritated as Dominic feels over his shoulder and shaking his head at Elijah, but Elijah doesn't make a move to sit in the adjacent stool. Instead, he leans closer to Dominic, his elbow on the bar, his head propped on his fist. His words hang between them, an invitation, Dominic supposes, and he remembers a time when he would have taken it as his cue to lower his lashes and his chin, to nod or deflect. "Or drunk," Elijah adds offhandedly. "And then drunk enough to get laid."
"You chose it, Elijah," Dominic laughs. "It was a lot nicer at the pub--"
"Because nice is totally what I look for. I'm saving nice for when I get old, thanks."
"Yeah, alright, point taken." Dominic spins the glass between his hands. "So that's why you wanted to come here? To get laid?"
"Are you drunk enough?"
"Not nearly enough." Dominic's laugh this time is sharp and hard enough that Elijah finally takes a step back. The movement leaves Dominic feeling bad, like he's forgotten his manners, which is a ridiculous enough thought to make his laughter turn softer before dying away altogether. Elijah hasn't propositioned him, really; the kid's probably not even gay, Dominic thinks, and decides he's not really interested in becoming some bi-curious student's tryout case for the evening.
Besides, Elijah's more Orlando's friend than Dominic's--he's hung out with Orlando more, and Dominic brushed off some of their attempts to drag them out with them. Elijah's okay, if a little loud, and he's a hell of a debater in discussion, about anything, not just in class, but Dominic hasn't spent enough time with him to get the real measure of him. Orlando would know whether this conversation should end right here, but his opinion isn't available, and Dominic doesn't blame him; Orlando looks happy these days, and why wouldn't he. And if Orlando likes Elijah, then maybe Dominic should give the kid a chance, too. Just because Orlando and Elijah have more in common--their love of music, their better looks, their ease in their studies ...
That thought makes Dominic's mind race back again in the direction of class--back to Billy's tired, narrowed eyes and exasperation--and speaks again in a quieter voice that Elijah has to lean closer still to hear. "At least not yet. Besides, it feels like I've been fucked once already today."
Elijah lets out another one of his low whistles, and Dominic just barely holds back a flinch at the noise. "Yeah, okay, that was some crash and burn in class today," Elijah admits, and Dominic can almost hear real sympathy in his voice. "Professor was just in a shitty mood and needed someone to beat down, I guess. Didn't have to do it in front of the class, though."
Dominic's eyes widen at the mention of Billy, at the possible connection Elijah might have made, but he quickly recovers himself, betrayed only by the sudden return of the harshness in his voice. "You seem to get on well enough with him."
Elijah shrugs, nodding when the bartender sets two fresh drinks on the bar in front of them. Elijah stops Dominic's wave of no thanks and pushes Dominic's empty glass away, replacing it with the newer, heavier one. "I wouldn't call it that. I just--I know what professors want to hear, especially professors with no fucking patience. Call it a gift. So what's with the whole ...?" Elijah shrugs again and looks Dominic up and down. "You're not this far gone over getting called out in a fucking lecture, man. So what's going on? Somebody break your heart?"
For a moment it feels as if the whole world drops away. Somebody break your heart? Fucking understatement, Dominic wants to say, but remembers Orlando's words and turns towards his drink, trying not to let his emotions show on his face--trying not to let Elijah know that he has it dead on. Still, he can't forget the disappointment on Billy's face today, how he'd stood in front of Dominic's desk as he'd asked the questions again and again, trying to lead Dominic to the answers, pointing out his shortcomings. Try again, Mr. Monaghan. No, again. Dominic wishes he could just excise such memories, but that would take a lot more than what he's had to drink tonight.
"Anyway, look, thanks for the drink, mate," he says, dismissing the memory he can't forget and the line of conversation he doesn't want to continue. He lifts his glass in mock cheers to Elijah, before taking a sip.
"What are friends for." Elijah's fingers flex a little, and Dominic hides his smile, knowing Elijah's itching for a cigarette, maybe even for something a little harder. As if he knows what Dominic's thinking, Elijah tilts his head and blinks slowly in Dominic's direction. "You know, if I wanted to just buy a drink for a guy, I could have gone somewhere better than this."
"The night's still young," Dominic says, the quip already feeling old and stale on his tongue before he's said the words properly. Rather than look for his own irritation reflected back on Elijah's face, he empties his glass and sets it back down. For a moment while the liquid feels thin and cool on his tongue he thinks maybe he's finally had enough, and that he'll go back to his room and ... and what? Wait for the next class? Torture himself by agonizing over whether or not to skive off his first advising appointment with Billy since everything happened? Spend some time replaying Billy's words to him--real words and not what's been passing for them in class? More than enough time for you to forget this, Dom.
"Well, yeah, so am I, but it's not getting me anywhere, is it?" Elijah takes another bored look around the room and then offers Dominic half a smile, baring those little teeth Dominic remembers seeing flash more kindly earlier. "What am I doing wrong, you think? Buying the wrong guy a drink?"
"I think you need to work on your pickup lines," Dominic laughs, remembering saying the same thing to Greg ages ago and remembering too what it felt like to have someone really want him and have that desire be an uncomplicated thing. He tilts his head a bit as if measuring Elijah again, and measures himself while he's at it before he reaches for Elijah's well-loosened tie to tug him a bit closer. "Look," he says quietly, almost conspiratorially, unsurprised when Elijah leans in for more. "What you said earlier, about having my heart broken?"
Elijah nods and Dominic nods with him, forces himself to hold Elijah's blue gaze as he pulls him even closer, willing that gaze to soften, to make this easier and harder at the same time. What this is, Dominic's not even sure of, but the words tumble out of him before he can stop them; maybe Elijah's right, what are friends for. "This helps, you know? Deadens things a bit. Turns all the fucking noise in my head down so I can hear something else for a little while. That." Dominic pauses and darts his tongue between his teeth, watching Elijah watch him. "That's what I'm looking for here."
"Good to know." Elijah looks at Dominic's glass before he looks back at Dominic and offers a thinner but wider smile. "Yeah, it's decent stuff. But you want to shut yourself down a little, let me tell you, man, there's other, quicker ways."
To be continued.
Authors:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Characters: Dominic, Elijah
Word count: 2310
Summary: A night out, going nowhere fast.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
Digging his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, Dominic comes up with a handful of coins that don't add up to much. He lines them up on the counter, a finger on top of each coin, moving them in circles as he considers his options, such as they are. He needs a drink, and not because he's become an alcoholic--at least not yet, and he's sworn to himself that he'll stop long before it gets to that point--but because he's not nearly drunk enough to stop remembering how Billy had stood directly in front of him earlier today, close enough to touch if Dominic had had the nerve to stretch his hand out, flattening one hand on the top of Dominic's desk in emphasis even as Elijah had fidgeted impatiently next to them for attention and to answer Billy's relentless questions. The words your argument is weak, your logic flawed had been scrawled in Billy's spidery green ink across the bottom of Dominic's last paper with a force that Dominic thought was undue, and he'd taken it as a personal dig. It was his fault--Billy's fault--if Billy hadn't taught him enough, hadn't demanded more of them both. Hadn't protected them both.
Ever since Billy had ended things, Dominic's felt like Billy's relieved to be rid of him, ignoring Dominic except in class, during which he questions Dominic with all the compassion of a firing squad about readings he must know that Dominic hasn't even attempted and treats Dominic to the look that conveys his disappointment so eloquently. Even before they became lovers, Billy had talked to Dominic about things that Dominic had never considered--things Billy had picked up through his travels, his schooling, and the few of his passions to which Dominic's been privy--and then had listened with interest when Dominic had talked about living in Germany before coming to Britain and having to adjust. Billy had made Dominic feel like an equal--like a friend. The nothingness between them now pains Dominic most of all, while Billy seems to have slipped back into the role of professor and advisor without any sign of regret or remorse. Worse, Billy seems to honestly believe that Dominic can go back to his role as student in the same dispassionate way.
What Dominic feels now is empty--hollow. He's spent too many nights in the clubs around and just outside of Baskerville lately, just barely drunk enough on the little bit of money his mother's sent him for food that everything is bleary and the edges of his memories aren't so sharp. Even with that, he can barely eat or sleep, and he can't rid himself of the ache in his chest. The coins in front of him are the last for at least the next week unless he makes his way back to the art department for work he'd abandoned in favour of spending more time with Billy--or unless he calls home to ask for more, and suffers through a lecture from either or both of his parents about budgets and carelessness.
Dominic curls his fist around the coins and swallows back the sudden ache at the back of his throat, the burn behind his eyes. The anger is still something that catches Dominic by surprise. He understands the sadness, the loss and loneliness, even the pain of betrayal, but when he was growing up, anger had been the sole domain of his father. He'd stomped it out of his sons with a strong hand and religion, and it had never taken root in Dominic's gentler nature--a credit to his character, it seemed, until he'd come out to his parents. Now, angry at the world and especially with Billy, Dominic has nowhere to take his frustration.
"Have to tell you, Dom, you really do look like hell."
Dominic cuts his eyes in Elijah's direction, both surprised and not to find Elijah beside him. He's had the habit lately of appearing wherever and whenever Dominic found himself sinking hard into that pit of anger, but at least tonight there's an excuse for it; they'd come here together after a few hours with Orlando at a pub, listening to Orlando's new mate David pluck at his guitar and rasp convincingly into an old microphone. Where he'd been content to sit and listen to music for ages before, Dominic found himself earlier tonight too restless to pay proper attention and too easily swayed by Elijah's suggestion that they get the fuck out of here before I fall asleep.
"Not sleeping," Dominic says, less an answer than another excuse that he's getting adept at handing out to his friends like candy. His voice doesn't carry much conviction and Elijah just shrugs it off, as he does most things. "I didn't think you'd be around tonight, even after Orlando said you might. Doesn't seem like there's a lot you'd be interested in. Here. Baskerville," Dominic explains, unsure and for the most uncaring whether Elijah's even listening.
"Especially not here, right? This place is a dump," Elijah says as he leans more heavily against the bar, pushing himself in between Dominic and the man to his left. Feeling crowded, Dominic looks around the club as if seeing it for the first time: the small, open warehouse with makeshift bars at each end and a DJ booth in the middle, the reverb that shakes through Dominic's body, the screech of a remixed Madonna song and the cigarette smoke that hangs in the flashing lights like a fog--all of it an assault on his senses. He hadn't thought the whole place that bad before; hell, he'd barely noticed most of it before, at least not until Elijah, another unwelcome intruder, had pointed it out.
"Not really your kind of place," Dominic says, already bored with the conversation and company. He pushes aside thoughts of Billy, of better nights spent in even better company, and reaches instead and again for his empty glass.
"Probably shouldn't be yours either. Only reason to come here is if you're looking to get laid." The guy behind them moves at the sound of Elijah's drawl, throwing a look as irritated as Dominic feels over his shoulder and shaking his head at Elijah, but Elijah doesn't make a move to sit in the adjacent stool. Instead, he leans closer to Dominic, his elbow on the bar, his head propped on his fist. His words hang between them, an invitation, Dominic supposes, and he remembers a time when he would have taken it as his cue to lower his lashes and his chin, to nod or deflect. "Or drunk," Elijah adds offhandedly. "And then drunk enough to get laid."
"You chose it, Elijah," Dominic laughs. "It was a lot nicer at the pub--"
"Because nice is totally what I look for. I'm saving nice for when I get old, thanks."
"Yeah, alright, point taken." Dominic spins the glass between his hands. "So that's why you wanted to come here? To get laid?"
"Are you drunk enough?"
"Not nearly enough." Dominic's laugh this time is sharp and hard enough that Elijah finally takes a step back. The movement leaves Dominic feeling bad, like he's forgotten his manners, which is a ridiculous enough thought to make his laughter turn softer before dying away altogether. Elijah hasn't propositioned him, really; the kid's probably not even gay, Dominic thinks, and decides he's not really interested in becoming some bi-curious student's tryout case for the evening.
Besides, Elijah's more Orlando's friend than Dominic's--he's hung out with Orlando more, and Dominic brushed off some of their attempts to drag them out with them. Elijah's okay, if a little loud, and he's a hell of a debater in discussion, about anything, not just in class, but Dominic hasn't spent enough time with him to get the real measure of him. Orlando would know whether this conversation should end right here, but his opinion isn't available, and Dominic doesn't blame him; Orlando looks happy these days, and why wouldn't he. And if Orlando likes Elijah, then maybe Dominic should give the kid a chance, too. Just because Orlando and Elijah have more in common--their love of music, their better looks, their ease in their studies ...
That thought makes Dominic's mind race back again in the direction of class--back to Billy's tired, narrowed eyes and exasperation--and speaks again in a quieter voice that Elijah has to lean closer still to hear. "At least not yet. Besides, it feels like I've been fucked once already today."
Elijah lets out another one of his low whistles, and Dominic just barely holds back a flinch at the noise. "Yeah, okay, that was some crash and burn in class today," Elijah admits, and Dominic can almost hear real sympathy in his voice. "Professor was just in a shitty mood and needed someone to beat down, I guess. Didn't have to do it in front of the class, though."
Dominic's eyes widen at the mention of Billy, at the possible connection Elijah might have made, but he quickly recovers himself, betrayed only by the sudden return of the harshness in his voice. "You seem to get on well enough with him."
Elijah shrugs, nodding when the bartender sets two fresh drinks on the bar in front of them. Elijah stops Dominic's wave of no thanks and pushes Dominic's empty glass away, replacing it with the newer, heavier one. "I wouldn't call it that. I just--I know what professors want to hear, especially professors with no fucking patience. Call it a gift. So what's with the whole ...?" Elijah shrugs again and looks Dominic up and down. "You're not this far gone over getting called out in a fucking lecture, man. So what's going on? Somebody break your heart?"
For a moment it feels as if the whole world drops away. Somebody break your heart? Fucking understatement, Dominic wants to say, but remembers Orlando's words and turns towards his drink, trying not to let his emotions show on his face--trying not to let Elijah know that he has it dead on. Still, he can't forget the disappointment on Billy's face today, how he'd stood in front of Dominic's desk as he'd asked the questions again and again, trying to lead Dominic to the answers, pointing out his shortcomings. Try again, Mr. Monaghan. No, again. Dominic wishes he could just excise such memories, but that would take a lot more than what he's had to drink tonight.
"Anyway, look, thanks for the drink, mate," he says, dismissing the memory he can't forget and the line of conversation he doesn't want to continue. He lifts his glass in mock cheers to Elijah, before taking a sip.
"What are friends for." Elijah's fingers flex a little, and Dominic hides his smile, knowing Elijah's itching for a cigarette, maybe even for something a little harder. As if he knows what Dominic's thinking, Elijah tilts his head and blinks slowly in Dominic's direction. "You know, if I wanted to just buy a drink for a guy, I could have gone somewhere better than this."
"The night's still young," Dominic says, the quip already feeling old and stale on his tongue before he's said the words properly. Rather than look for his own irritation reflected back on Elijah's face, he empties his glass and sets it back down. For a moment while the liquid feels thin and cool on his tongue he thinks maybe he's finally had enough, and that he'll go back to his room and ... and what? Wait for the next class? Torture himself by agonizing over whether or not to skive off his first advising appointment with Billy since everything happened? Spend some time replaying Billy's words to him--real words and not what's been passing for them in class? More than enough time for you to forget this, Dom.
"Well, yeah, so am I, but it's not getting me anywhere, is it?" Elijah takes another bored look around the room and then offers Dominic half a smile, baring those little teeth Dominic remembers seeing flash more kindly earlier. "What am I doing wrong, you think? Buying the wrong guy a drink?"
"I think you need to work on your pickup lines," Dominic laughs, remembering saying the same thing to Greg ages ago and remembering too what it felt like to have someone really want him and have that desire be an uncomplicated thing. He tilts his head a bit as if measuring Elijah again, and measures himself while he's at it before he reaches for Elijah's well-loosened tie to tug him a bit closer. "Look," he says quietly, almost conspiratorially, unsurprised when Elijah leans in for more. "What you said earlier, about having my heart broken?"
Elijah nods and Dominic nods with him, forces himself to hold Elijah's blue gaze as he pulls him even closer, willing that gaze to soften, to make this easier and harder at the same time. What this is, Dominic's not even sure of, but the words tumble out of him before he can stop them; maybe Elijah's right, what are friends for. "This helps, you know? Deadens things a bit. Turns all the fucking noise in my head down so I can hear something else for a little while. That." Dominic pauses and darts his tongue between his teeth, watching Elijah watch him. "That's what I'm looking for here."
"Good to know." Elijah looks at Dominic's glass before he looks back at Dominic and offers a thinner but wider smile. "Yeah, it's decent stuff. But you want to shut yourself down a little, let me tell you, man, there's other, quicker ways."
To be continued.
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