Slashababy 2004 Stories

  FANFICTION: This story depicts real-life public figures engaged in completely fictional, false and untrue activities. It never happened, it never will happen. This story is a work of fantasy and satire which in no way professes to express the truth about the life, thoughts, feelings, desires, opinions, beliefs, activities or sexual orientation of any person mentioned herein.

Ring Out, Wild Bells

for fly_meaway
by flusteredspeech

rated r for elijah's dirty mouth

for fly_meaway. my extreme apologies for the tardiness. also, i just couldn't get very angsty in the middle of the holidays, so while there are perhaps short moments of very slight angst, this is mostly just a lot of silly boy-talk, and i hope it's acceptable anyway. happy holidays!

ring out the old, ring in the new, ring,
happy bells, across the snow:
the year is going, let him go;
ring out the false, ring in the true.

On their first New Year's Eve together, in Dom and Billy's shared flat in New Zealand, Elijah gets very, very drunk.

Everybody's brought a bottle of wine or two, there's always some whisky around, Dom's got a bottle of Jägermeister that he's positively gleeful over, and Elijah's just too fucking full of joy to stop himself. Every time someone new walks into the door, he crows across the room, shoots himself another drink and then scrambles towards them over the couch instead of around it, but nobody ever really gets mad at him when he accidentally gets an elbow in their gut or a foot dangerously close to a crotch. He gets a few light shoves and one or two sharp yelps and even a pat on the ass once, but when he turns and wavers on top of the sofa cushions, a little dizzy, there are too many smiling faces nearby to pick a culprit, so he just laughs instead and waggles his ass a bit more. Everyone who walks into the room is warmly welcomed by a thoroughly ecstatic Elijah.

'Round about ten o'clock, Elijah starts telling people how drunk he is. He also sits in a lot of laps. "Hello," he says, and collapses himself onto the nearest person. "Are you having a good time, darling? I'm having a fucking great time. I'm rather drunk, sorry, am I heavy, I can get up?" He's a very considerate drunk.

At eleven, Dom finds him half-asleep in the crook of Orlando's elbow making small, content noises while Orli, engrossed in conversation, absent-mindedly pets the hair just behind his ear.

"Hey, 'Lijah," Dom half-whispers as he kneels down and pats Orlando's knee in greeting. "Wake up, sunshine, you'll miss all the midnight kissing." Elijah hums a little into Orlando's elbow, who jerks and flicks the back of Elijah's ear fondly.

"That tickles, wanker. And you've had just about enough coddling from me for one night I think," Orlando says, and tips Elijah upright carefully and holds him there with one arm until he's sure Elijah can hold himself. "I hereby give you over into the custody of one Dominic Monaghan."

"Are you drunk, Orli?" Elijah blinks sleepily. "Why aren't you drunk?"

"Because I'm not as pretty a drunk as you are."

"Bullshit, you're always pretty," Elijah says.

Orlando laughs and Dom grins and helps Elijah to his feet. "C'mon 'Lijah, you can help me get myself a drink," he says.

"Happy New Year's, Lij," Orlando says and Elijah smiles at him before grabbing Dom's belt loops and following him to the kitchen.

At ten to midnight, while Billy starts herding people into the living room for the countdown, Dom sits on the edge of the bathtub, one calm hand steady in the center of Elijah's back as he heaves over the toilet.

"Fuck, 'Lijah, what the hell did you eat out there? I've never seen anyone chuck up so much colour at one time." Elijah retches again and Dom presses his hand slightly firmer. "There's a love."

Elijah groans and lays his cheek on the toilet seat and Dom fights back a grimace and reaches for a handtowel. "Am I dead yet?"

"Yes, welcome to heaven. You'll get your wings just as soon as you puke up the rest of your humanity. Bet they didn't tell you about this in bible school, huh? Here, budge up a bit." Dom nudges the side of Elijah's face with the handtowel and slips it under his cheek when he puts his head back down. "Can't have you contracting nasty diseases from Bill's toilet, can we? Frodo doesn't have festering boils on him until the third film and we're still a ways away from that."

Elijah starts to laugh, then coughs and turns his head back into the toilet bowl, his fingers going white on the porcelain. After a minute of panicky breathing, he rests again and closes his eyes. "Oh fuck me," he says.

"Don't really think you're in a position to be making demands, 'Lijah."

"Oh, please shut up."

"You are feeling poorly, aren't you. There wasn't even a naughty word in there."

"I'm puking my fucking guts up is what I'm feeling."

"There's my boy. Welcome to the wonderful world of jäger."

Elijah makes a little sound between a sob and a moan and opens his eyes again, then lifts a fist to rub at them. "I hate you."

"I know," says Dom with a smile. He reaches out to pull Elijah's hand away from his eyes. "Don't rub at them with those things, they've been fondling the lavvy for fifteen minutes. And you'll love me again come morning, don't worry." Elijah quirks an eyebrow at him. "Or, no, I take that back, you'll probably still hate me in the morning depending on how wretched your headache is. Tomorrow evening though. Tomorrow evening you'll be back to thinking i'm the greatest thing since hobnobs."

"Christ, don't mention food right now, asshole."

"Sorry. You all upchucked out yet?"

"Maybe." In the living room, the countdown starts at ten. Elijah puts his forehead on his arm and whispers the numbers into his shirt sleeve, then says, "I'm so sorry, Dom, you don't have to stay here," when it hits zero and there's a collective cheer.

Dom just smiles at him a little and leans forward to press his lips to Elijah's clammy forehead. "Of course I do, you stupid bugger. We can't have you drown yourself in the toilet on such a happy occasion, can we? Happy new year, 'Lijah." In the living room, Billy's singing "Auld Lang Syne" and it's beautiful.

Dom puts Elijah to bed when he's sure he won't throw up all over it.

At three in the morning, Elijah wakes up from a terrible nightmare. In it, he's just turned seventeen again and the call doesn't come. Dream-elijah never goes to New Zealand, never even gets to the point of realizing that New Zealand is where he should be. Instead, dream-elijah sits around out back in the little vacation house his mom's let him take over and gets really, really good at old-school video games. Zelda's his forte. He gets a few jobs, and instead of playing frodo, he plays a really boring college kid, a really young dentist, and, dream-elijah's personal favorite, a really short hero with all the right butt-kicking moves to save the day and get the girl with the pouty lips and big tits. But none of it's good enough because it's not Frodo and it's not New Zealand and there's no Sean or Viggo or Orlando or Billy and there's no Dom.

When Elijah wakes up sweaty and whining and terrified, it's Dom who puts the back of his hand to his forehead and soothes him with comforting words.

"Hey Lij, you're alright. You're in New Zealand, you're with me and Billy, and you're in my bed because you fell asleep piss poor drunk in my bathroom. How you feeling?" Elijah shivers a little and licks his lips and Dom nods. "Right, Bills? You coming with that water, mate?"

Elijah isn't quite awake, but he just starts talking, makes a lot of noise about his dream and just keeps talking and talking and dom lets him, even after Billy comes in and sits down on the edge of the bed with a glass of water in hand. Finally, Dom pulls on one of his hands and he shuts up. Billy holds out the glass and keeps a hold on the bottom to make sure it's steady while Elijah takes a few sips. When he's done, Dom gives him a little smile and pulls on his hand again.

"Just a dream, 'Lijah, had to be if you were actually any good at Zelda."

"Not to mention getting the titty woman," adds Billy helpfully. "You could never get her unless you were dreaming, you know."

Elijah finally takes a deep breath and smiles just a little and opens his mouth to respond, but Dom beats him to it. "Shut up, fuckers, right?" he mimics, and Elijah nods.

"I was going to call you assholes though."

"You're getting entirely too predictable, Elwood," says Billy, and offers him the water again. "Better?"

Elijah nods again. "Yeah, yeah thanks. Just. Just don't let this go away, okay?"

Billy snorts and flips his fingers, asking for the now empty glass. "Oh, you're bloody well stuck with us now, lad, no choice in that matter. Now go back to sleep, Lij. You're going to be grateful for every wink you can get come morning and that hangover hits you." Billy stands up and stretches, his thin, loose t-shirt riding up over a pale strip of stomach. He smiles at Elijah and winks at Dom before he retreats to his own bedroom. "See you in the morning."

"Go to sleep, 'Lijah," Dom says, and pulls the blankets up around them both. "I'm not going anywhere."

ring out the want, the care the sin,
the faithless coldness of the times;
ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
but ring the fuller minstrel in.

A year later, they celebrate together again, this time in Scotland at a place Billy's set up for them. Orlando and Bean come up for a few days to join in on the festivities and Viggo flies over with Henry, making excuses that the boy could use some culture again, Los Angeles is turning him too American. It's not quite the same, but it's comforting for Elijah so soon after the end of filming. They spend a few hours in a comfortable pub and it almost feels like normal.

Still, "But fuck, isn't this weird?" he says into his pint once they've settled into their booth and his hands are busy fiddling about with his cigarettes and lighter. "I mean, it's almost like we're still in New Zealand, but we are definitely not. In New Zealand, I mean. Fuck, I don't really know what I'm talking about, it's just weird. Fuck."

"You're mastery of the english language is truly stunning, Elijah," Billy says from across the table and reaches over to tap one of Elijah's cloves out for himself with a wink. "Perhaps you should have been a poet. Lots of things rhyme with fuck."

"Puck," Viggo says.

"Tuck," Orlando offers.

"Suck," Dom grins, and waggles his eyebrows.

"Oh fuck," Elijah laughs.

"Precisely," Billy says, and smiles smugly.

"Couldn't make adequate use of those beautiful baby blues though if he were a poet, could he now," Dom counters. "The camera treats him just fine, I think."

"Well, we aren't in front of cameras anymore," Elijah says in between sips.

"Good thing too," Dom says. "Nobody wants film of a repeat of last year. Not so pretty with your head in a toilet, darling." Elijah flips him off.

'Round about ten o'clock, they start reminiscing. Dom tells ridiculous stories that are more than half true and then treats them all to his collection of impersonations. Elijah chuckles with the rest, but underneath it, he still feels slightly as if something's missing. Fuck, but isn't this weird, he thinks again.

Halfway through telling Billy he's a "feckin' gobshite" in his own slightly iffy attempt at a Glaswegian accent, Dom glances over at Elijah and grins through his insult. Elijah feels a foot nudge at his ankle and then Dom's fingers close around his elbow for just a second, and Elijah can't help but smile back.

At eleven, Elijah's still sipping at his fourth beer and watching Orlando blush with alcohol and Billy's wicked attempts to nip at his left ear every time he turns his head to answer a query from Viggo. The alcohol goes through Orli faster than anyone and Billy has a vicious little streak that likes to play with that. He gets in a particularly wet swipe and Orlando jumps and yelps.

"Christ, Billy, that was almost obscene," Elijah puffs out around his smoke.

"That's what I've been telling you," Dom says, and throws an arm around him conspiratorially. "There's a dirty, old wanker beneath that pretty voice and you've got to be on your guard at all times lest he try and tongue you when you've got your back turned."

"See, I always thought that was you," Elijah says, and Billy laughs while Dom scowls.

"Not on New Year's. New Year's is for kissing, not licking. And I'm an expert on New Year kisses."

"Are you now?" Billy asks, and doesn't flinch when Dom throws a wadded up napkin at him.

"Oh, go lick an elf, Boyd, I'm talking to Elwood here." Billy just laughs again, and then does turn back towards Viggo and Orlando's conversation. Dom scoots a little bit closer into Elijah and clears his throat. "Right then, young friend. New Year kisses are very important, you know, and I'm very good at them. Had my first when I was eleven and haven't missed a year since."

"What about last year?"

"Oh, well, I found myself a kiss after you fell asleep. I figure it was still midnight somewhere in the world."

"Right, so fucking sorry about that, Dom."

"Stop apologizing, you stupid git. Now, the most important thing about a New Year kiss is having a target, 'Lijah." Dom stops and scans the bar quickly, then uses the hand around Elijah's shoulders to point out a group of young woman laughing together over their cocktails. "There. Third in on the right, darker hair, green shirt. That's mine."

"Wow," says Elijah. "Good luck."

"Don't worry 'bout me," Dom says. "I always get the one I want."

At ten to midnight, Dom offers to accompany Elijah outside for a nip of fresh air and another smoke. They start talking merits of the Stone Roses and end with Dom explaining again his reasoning for the Beatles being the best band on earth. He's in the middle of expounding on George Harrison's influence when Elijah shifts and leans back towards the pub door. "Fuck! They're counting down already, Dom," he says after a second, grinds out the last bit of his cigarette under his toe, and grabs Dom's shirt cuff.

Inside, it's a madhouse. The crowds are cheering and people are kissing everywhere when they skid into the entryway.

"Fuck," Elijah says, and then, "Fuck!" again for emphasis. "Shit, dude, but Billy's really got a stronghold on your girl." Dom sighs behind him and Elijah lets out his breath after him. "Second fucking year in a fucking row I've cost you this, Dom, god I'm so sorry."

"Quit your swearing and put your mouth to better use, Lij," Dom says, and he's grinning with his hand on Elijah's elbow. Elijah frowns at him for an explanation. "Well, I'm not going to miss it this year, am I," Dom continues. "And since it's your fault, you might as well do what you can to fix it."

Elijah gets it, laughs, and puckers up. "So let's give it a go, Romeo," he says, and closes his eyes. When he gets nothing, he opens them and starts to say, "C'mon you ass-" and then is abruptly cut off by the presence of Dom's lips covering his profanity.

Dom's lips are very soft and so insistently gentle that Elijah doesn't even have a chance to think "this is Dom" before he's coerced into opening his mouth just enough. It's like kissing a girl, but better, he thinks. "Whoa," he says, as soon as his tongue is returned to him.

When he opens his eyes, Dom's beaming. "Yeah, well, I did warn you I was very good at this," he says.

"Yeah, I just. Sorry you had to practice on me."

Dom's eyebrows raise and his smile turns a little at the corners. "I also told you I always get the right one."

Elijah gets it for the second time, feels like he's losing his footing, and stutters, "But, you, there was a girl."

"Diversionary tactics. All great military leaders use 'em."

"There's nothing military about you."

"Soldier in the army of love, baby."

"Oh my god," Elijah says, and then can't help bursting into hoarse laughter.

Dom smiles and watches him, then shakes his elbow gently. "Hey," he says. "You tell me to bugger off and quit being such a sick bastard, and it's as good as done."

"No," Elijah says quickly, and catches his breath. "No, it's - it's good. Happy New Year, Dom," he says, and tilts his chin up shyly.

ring out false pride in place and blood,
the civic slander and the spite;
ring in the love of truth and right,
ring in the common love of good.

* title and poetry shamelessly borrowed from alfred, lord tennyson.

Slashababy 2004 Stories