Summary: Domestic bliss on a Saturday morning.
Warning: Fluffy like kittens and cotton candy.
Disclaimer: The people are real, the situations aren’t.
The sun was shining brightly through the window by the time Dom woke up. The bedside clock read 10:13. He was in bed alone, the pale green sheets wrinkled and kicked to the foot of the bed. He frowned. He still felt kind of tired, but staying in bed seemed pointless without Elijah there for him to awaken with kisses.
With a sigh of resignation, Dom got up.
He was wearing pajama pants with rockets on them, a fact which Elijah had teased him about mercilessly. Dom had taken it until Elijah had accused him of being twelve, at which point he reminded Elijah of his tendency to snuggle anything soft and/or warm.
“Oh, you know you like it,” Elijah had said.
“That’s not the point,” Dom had replied primly.
Dom smiled at the memory and wandered out of the bedroom.
Elijah was in the kitchen, sitting at the table in loose, too-long jeans and an unbuttoned black shirt. He was drinking tea from a mug that said “Kiss the Librarian” and idly paging through a script.
Dom stood in the doorway for a moment and just watched.
They’d looked for months before settling on this house, a small, blue bungalow in Topanga Canyon. The kitchen had been his favorite part: roomy and wood-paneled all around and lit by a large window facing the east. Elijah bought a vintage round table and that’s where they ate most of their meals. Elijah’s mom had given them a blue checkered tablecloth as a housewarming present, and it was partially visible beneath the pile of scripts, books, and papers that nearly covered it. A glass half-full of water and filled with slightly wilted daisies that they had picked on their last walk served as the centerpiece.
The corners of the room were filled with plants that Elijah had brought home one day, after deciding that they needed to decorate. They were dusty because of the constant sunlight but still green and healthy because Dom watered them and occasionally talked to them when he though Elijah wouldn’t hear.
Dom jumped a little as he felt a light brush a fur against his pants leg; he still wasn’t used to having a cat around. The small black creature had shown up on their doorstep two weeks ago and stuck around because Elijah, sucker that he was, had instantly fallen in love and named her Janie. That was it, then, they were cat owners. Dom felt like he should have protested more, but once Elijah had looked at him, all blue-eyed and pleading and held up the cat, with its big green eyes and shy meow, he knew he couldn’t say no. One day he’d come home to see Elijah napping on the couch with a purring Janie sleeping on his stomach. He’d gone through half a roll of film before Janie stretched and Elijah shifted and awoke.
He currently carried one of the photos in his wallet.
“Good morning.” Dom walked over and ruffled Elijah’s hair. “You need a haircut, luv.”
“Mmm,” Elijah said noncommittally.
Dom sat down in the chair next to him. “What, no witty rejoinder?”
“It’s too early for wit,” Elijah informed him, running a hand through his hair, which had gotten so long it was starting to curl a bit, to his utter horror. “Plus you’re right. I think I’m starting to revert to my natural hobbit-state.”
Dom glanced under the table at Elijah’s bare feet. “Not completely, yet.” He reached over and ran a hand over Elijah’s lightly defined abs. “And let’s keep it that way, hmm?”
Elijah smiled. “You only love me because I’m young and pretty. You’re a shallow one, Dominic Monaghan.”
“You know that’s not true.” Dom stood and gave him a quick kiss. “You’re good in bed, too.”
“Bitch,” Elijah said fondly.
“Your bitch,” Dom said.
“You know it,” Elijah said, and pulled Dom down for another kiss.
The End
4/29/2002