Dom had this never-ending battle with perfection.

It wasn't even a battle, exactly. How could it be when Dom had no chance in hell to win? The fact was that he absolutely loathed perfection, hated it with a passion that grew with every passing year. It was everywhere he looked but in himself -- he knew that he never would live up to the intelligence of his older brother, the kindness of his mother, and the strength of his father. Dom was a coward who pushed himself to do things he knew he could not do in order to prove his worth. He spent the whole of his adolescence being afraid of failing and losing everything he held dear, yet wasn't smart enough to stop taking risks. There wasn't anything about him that was perfect. The only thing he had going for him was his acting, and even that wasn't anything to compare to the greats of the past.

And when Dom went to New Zealand for a part in The Lord of the Rings, perfection stared him down every morning with sunrises and mountaintops, with genius and talent. Perfection stared him down with incredible brown eyes.

Orlando was perfect from the moment Dom laid eyes on him. He was tall, had gorgeous skin, and a sultry voice that made girls swoon. Even with a ridiculous haircut, Orlando looked better than Dom could ever imagine being. Dom had ears too big for his head, a crooked chin, and a lopsided nose. He was short, stubborn, and clumsy. Orlando was an elf, a being that was, by nature, perfection embodied.

Only... not.

The first time Dom saw Orlando dance, he nearly pissed himself laughing. It had been a long day of filming for the entire cast and crew, and Dom wanted nothing more than to just relax, have a beer ( or five ), and spend time with his new friends. He hadn't expected to be pulled onto the dance floor by a very handsome elf, and he hadn't expected his heart to leap at their joined hands.

"Just dance with me, Dom. I saw the people out there and they're kind of... scary," Orlando whispered into his ear, the words sending a chill down his spine.

It was true that Dom had this... infatuation with Orlando. It wasn't a crush, no, because that would mean that Dom actually liked Orlando that way, and he didn't. He couldn't. Orlando was perfect and that was a problem. Dom couldn't like anyone that much who was perfect.

Things took a drastic change, however, when the two stopped on the floor and the music picked up. When Orlando starting flailing his arms out in every direction and shuffling his feet quickly in his place, it took less than two seconds for Dom's staring to turn into hysterical laughter. He doubled over on the dance floor and clutched at his stomach, tears starting to form in his eyes.

"What? What's so funny?" he heard Orlando ask. Dom only shook his head and crawled back to their booth, nearly unable to breathe.

"A drinking game? Yeah, I'm in," were the elf's fated last words as Dom killed him in a game of Fuck The Dealer. The HobbitsnOrli had decided to stay in that night after making such a mess in the pub they had frequented recently. The five decided on Dom's place as it was the only one already stocked full with liquor.

Soon, it was only the two of them, the hobbit and the elf left to finish off the alcohol. Sean left hours earlier, taking Elijah with him, and Billy had gone home to get a good night's sleep, knowing that they all had early call the next morning. Now, however, Dom didn't think he'd be able to get Orlando out of his home even if he wanted.

Turned out that Orlando was a less-than-perfect drinker. The man couldn't handle his alcohol and was even worse at drinking games. By the time Orlando was unable to keep himself upright, falling into giggles at the slightest change of conversation, Dom barely had a buzz.

"Y'know... you 'er always m'favorite 'obbit," he slurred as Dom tried to get Orlando on his feet and into a bed. Dom couldn't help himself but laugh at it all. Slowly, his perfect image of Orlando was being destroyed by horrible dancing and poor drinking skills.

The only problem was that Dom found himself finding it hard to think of reasons why he couldn't like Orlando.

Orlando was a horrible speaker. This is not to say that he couldn't deliver a line with conviction, because he could, but when he had to give and interview, Orlando lacked the eloquence he had in his acting. And when Dom first witnessed this, he found himself shaking his head, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

It had been months since he first formed this impression of Orlando as the graceful and perfect elf. It had been months since Dom told himself that he couldn't like Orlando because of those traits. It had been months since Dom liked him anyway, yet it had only been days since everything perfect about Orlando became everything imperfect.

"It's like... you know... just this amazing... experience, you know?" Dom mocked after the interview was over, and Orlando hit him hard upside the head, wrapping an arm around Dom's neck and ruffling his hair.

"Like, I do not sound like that," he argued, scoffing at the thought. Dom let his laughter increase.

"Right, and I'm a purple cockatoo."

"Dom? You awake?"

It was late and Dom had gone to bed hours earlier. He rolled over in bed and opened one eye, peering at the doorway. "Orlando? What're you doing here?"

"I had to tell you something." Dom sat up, propping himself with his elbows, waiting for Orlando to continue. He approached the bed slowly, only climbing on when Dom scooted over to make room.

"You know, we've uh... been friends for like, what? Nearly a year now? And like, I just, you know, wanted you to know that, uh... I... like you and --"

Dom cut him off. "Orlando?"

"Y-Yeah?"

Dom smiled and leaned towards him and kissed Orlando. As their teeth clashed together and awkward hands searched for their rightful place, Dom thought that if Orlando was perfection, maybe he couldn't hate it so much anymore.

Slashababy 2004 Stories