Perpetual State

Fiction. Not real. PG13 to R for language and innuendo.
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Perpetual State
Dominic Monaghan/Orlando Bloom. Angst.

“What the hell is that noise?” Orlando and Dominic were sitting- quite patiently- on Elijah’s lounge room couch, waiting for Elijah to finish getting ready so they could go out clubbing.

“Dunno, mate,” Dom responded, looking down the short hall to the bathroom. “Hairdryer maybe?”

“Electric toothbrush? Must be.” The thought of what else it could be made Orli giggle. Then Dom said what they were both thinking.

“Eh, prolly a vibrator. Pervy bastard’s in the loo with a vibrator crammed up--”

“Dom! Not an image I care to have, thank you. Lij in there doing God-knows-what.”

“Sure, mate, whatever.”

“I mean, just because *you* bring yourself off to thoughts Blue-Eyes fucking himself, doesn’t mean I do.”

“Of course not. You wank to thoughts of him fucking *you*.” A mischievous grin spread across Dom’s face. “’S okay though. Perfectly natural.”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh, so now it’s *me* you want bugger? Aww, shucks, Sweet Thing.” Dom batted his eyelashes and puckered his lips.

“Careful, mate. Do that again, and you just might find yourself in a situation.” Orlando playfully put his hand on Dominic’s knee.

“A little higher.”

“Dirty Dom. Dirty, dirty Dommie.” Orlando slid his hand up Dom’s thigh. Too high. “Dom?” Orlando gulped.

“Orli, love, I think you’d better move your hand.”

_____


Freaked him the fuck out. Dom had definitely freaked Orlando the fuck out. It wasn’t as if it were Dominic’s fault that he’d been in a perpetual state of arousal since he’d met Orli. The boy was absolutely gorgeous. And absolutely straight. He’d been engaged for fuck’s sake.

But he wasn’t engaged *now*. Dom let himself entertain the fantasy that the reason Orlando was no longer engaged was that his fiancé had walked in and caught him with-

No. Too far-fetched. Dom laughed and drank down his beer as he watched Orlando flirt with a pretty blonde on the dance floor.

_____


“Fancy another?” Orlando asked the girl and headed for the bar where Dominic was sitting. Dom was watching him. No, Dom was boring holes into him with those insane grey eyes of his.

“Looks like me an’ Lij are goin’ home alone tonight, eh mate?”

“Nah. This one’s not my type. Maybe yours though.” Orlando nearly laughed out loud at his words because he knew that girl wasn’t Dom’s type at all. Because *he* was. Orlando. But Dom didn’t have to know Orli knew.

“Hmm, no. Not really. I fancy brunets.” Dom winked at Orli and turned to ask the barman for another pint.

“Yeah, brunets. I knew that,” Orlando mumbled as he went back out to the dance floor, sans drinks.

_____


Nearly four o’clock in the morning when Dominic and Orlando finally left Elijah’s. Orlando drove Dom’s car, since Dom had done anelleellent job getting himself piss-drunk at the club. Orlando wondered if his current state of inebriation had anything to do with Orli’s accidental discovery.

“Orlando Bloom,” Dom drawled as he leant his head against the passenger side window. “Orlando-fucking-Bloom.” Then he seemed to pass out.

Orlando ignored him and concentrated on the road and counting light posts. By the time he’d reached twenty-four, they were at Dom’s.

“Oi, Sleeping Beauty! We’re here.” Orlando shook Dom’s shoulder gently, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Hey, Dominic, wake up! I’m not carrying you inside, you lazy sod. Come on!”

Dom opened his eyes and wiped away the drool that had started to run down his chin. When Orli opened the passenger door, Dom fell in a heap on the ground.

_____


Dominic awoke miserable and cotton-mouthed and ambled into the lounge room. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten into his bed until he spotted Orlando sleeping on the couch in just his boxers. He briefly thought that beauty like that should be made illegal, and then laughed despite the throbbing in his head.

“Wha-?” Orlando sat up and rubbed his eyes. It took him a few moments to remember that he was lying on Dom’s couch. In his boxers. With morning- oh god.

“Rise and shine,” Dom muttered as he went to get some headache tablets from the bathroom.

_____


The entire flat smelt of coffee. Dom thought he was going to be ill. It seemed Orlando had gone to the trouble of making a pot of coffee while Dom was washing the nightclub-ness out of his hair and off his skin. And images of Orlando from his brain. Boxer-clad Orlando, lying on his couch, blissfully ignorant of the fact that certain portions of him weren’t so boxer-clad at all.

He’d also gone to the trouble of eating Dominic’s oatmeal and leaving the bowl on the kitchen table. And of leaving, full-stop.

_____


Dominic wanted to apologise to Orlando for way way he was, but then he realised that was stupid, so he didn’t talk to Orli for the rest of the weekend. Didn’t talk to him because he was afraid that things he might say that would have previously been taken in jest- or at least *Orli* would take them in jest- would now carry an uneasy weight.

When Orlando called- and he called, bless the man- Dominic would let his answerphone take the call, and he would stand, staring at it, as if Orlando would crawl through it anto nto his lounge room. The only part of Orli that ever made it was his voice, with its Canterbury-gone-London sensuality, saying things to Dominic like, “Hey, mate. Haven’t talked to you all day. You okay?” and “Dominic, it’s Orlando. Please pick up. We need to talk.”

Dominic didn’t want to talk. He just might tell Orlando that he loved him, and neither one of them could handle what that meant.
__________

To be continued. . .


AUTHORS NOTE: For those who don’t know: ‘brunet’ is the male version of the word ‘brunette.’ So don’t say I can’t spell. ;o)