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monaboyd Oct. 14th, 2005 09:10 am)
buggerthis22.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Oct. 14th, 2005 09:10 am)Title: Through My Veins
Author: The Chad
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: PG
Notes: Part Three in Angst: The Series
Warnings: Angst, tears, language, minor verbal fighting, lies, lack of conclusion
Disclaimer: This totally happened *bursts out laughing* What? It did!
Beta: The lovely celtprincess13! Thanks hon! I owe you! Sorry for my impatience.
*
I have a dialogue in my mind about what they’re saying to each other as they dance.
“He’s watching,” Viggo whispers in his ear.
“Let him watch,” Dom’s voice is slightly husky from panting and being somewhat aroused. Viggo throws back his head and laughs; Dom immediately attacks his neck with kisses.
“Dominic,” Viggo warns—fucking cunt who always calls Dom by his full name as if he owns him or something.
“Hey,” I look up to see Elijah sliding into the booth across from me; he looks terrible.
This is not the Elijah I know—we know. Our Elijah has perfect hair and clothes, and always smiles. This foreign Elijah had on ripped jeans and a wrinkled black shirt with a suspicious looking white stain on it. His hair is in disarray, not in the fashionable way he usually wears it, but a complete mess. It’s like he was trying to find something in it while he had gel all over his hands.
“What happened, mate?” I ask.
“What?” Elijah blinks his blue eyes at me, and I notice they have bags under them. He looks down at his clothes. “Oh… um…” He’s trying to hold in tears; I can tell, even in the dim light of the club. “Orlando,” He takes a deep, steadying breath, “Broke up with me.”
“Why?” I can’t believe it. Those two are inseparable. How could Orlando call it off?
“There’s someone else,” He looks casually to the dance floor, and I follow his gaze to where Orlando is stepping in-between Viggo and Dom, leaving the latter to find another person to dance with. The two still standing there kiss full on the lips.
“Viggo?” I ask, knowing the answer all-too well.
Elijah can’t even finish nodding before the tears are spilling down his cheeks. I’m suddenly proud of him for even daring to arrive in public after such a blow.
“Come on, Snicker doodle, I’ll take you home,” I say and help him get up as to wander through the crowd.
“Where are you going?” Dom suddenly appears in front of us.
“I’m taking Elijah home,” I state calmly.
“Why? The night has just begun!” Dom grabs Elijah and twirls him.
“Leave him alone,” I take Elijah away from Dom and force my way through the crowd.
“Bills!” Dom calls after me. I ignore him.
He follows us to the car park, trying to make me stop and talk to him. Elijah’s so exhausted from crying that he just sort of falls into his seat.
“What’s your damage, Bills?” Dom asks once I close the passenger door.
“Fuck, Dom,” I curse. “You practically molest Vig in front of me, and you ask me what my problem is?!” I didn’t realize that I had such an issue with it until I’m saying—no screaming—this to him.
“I like it when you get jealous; it’s hot,” Dom reaches out to tuck some hair behind my ear, but I pull back; for a moment, a flash of hurt shines in his grey eyes, and I’m surprised, but it’s gone in an instant. “Fine, Bills, you want it to be like that, it’ll be like that,” He turns and storms off as the evening fog rolls in.
I hop into the car and send Peter a text message, apologizing for leaving his birthday party early.
“Billy?” Elijah barely lifts his head. “Thanks,” then he passes out. The drive to his hotel is going to be deafeningly silent.
It occurs to me that I finally know the problem with falling for Dom: It’s Dom.
You can love him, hate him, worship him, but it’s all Dom—no matter how you look at it. He has this smile that can light up a room; this energy that siphons off him and becomes contagious. Dom has this way to make everyone adore him because he’s so insanely different. He has this personality that appeals to everyone; he’s so nice that people just go crazy over him. And you can’t really hate him—trust me, I’ve tried.
I suddenly feel sick. As thought my body is ready to flush out the poison of every smile, every kiss, every ounce of Dom that flows through my veins, out of my system. My mind has felt that way for a long time—no matter how much I love him. It’s like I know something’s wrong. Yet, it’s gone before I realize what’s happened, and I feel fine. In fact, music suddenly appeals to me.
I’m surprised Elijah sleeps all the way back to his hotel since I’m singing so loud. But when I pull into the car park, he’s still sound asleep.
I heave him out of the car and dig in his pockets until I find his key. Somehow, I manage to put the boy into bed. He looks like an angel that was just told Satan’s coming to heaven for a visit, but he has to be happy because he lives in paradise.
I go into the kitchen area and drop his keys on the breakfast bar. I turn to leave, but something catches my eye. On the desk, there’s a letter in Dom’s scribble. The messy letters form words that slowly swim into sense:
Dear Lij,
Sorry to hear about Orlando. I know that you cared for him. I hope this means that we can finally be together. I’m going to tell Billy about us—when the time is right. I love you.
Dom.
I drop the letter and run.
I don’t know how far I go before I keel over and dry heaves wrack my body.
No. No. No.
It’s an endless mantra in my mind. No… no… no…
The world goes dark.
*Fin*
Author: The Chad
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: PG
Notes: Part Three in Angst: The Series
Warnings: Angst, tears, language, minor verbal fighting, lies, lack of conclusion
Disclaimer: This totally happened *bursts out laughing* What? It did!
Beta: The lovely celtprincess13! Thanks hon! I owe you! Sorry for my impatience.
*
I have a dialogue in my mind about what they’re saying to each other as they dance.
“He’s watching,” Viggo whispers in his ear.
“Let him watch,” Dom’s voice is slightly husky from panting and being somewhat aroused. Viggo throws back his head and laughs; Dom immediately attacks his neck with kisses.
“Dominic,” Viggo warns—fucking cunt who always calls Dom by his full name as if he owns him or something.
“Hey,” I look up to see Elijah sliding into the booth across from me; he looks terrible.
This is not the Elijah I know—we know. Our Elijah has perfect hair and clothes, and always smiles. This foreign Elijah had on ripped jeans and a wrinkled black shirt with a suspicious looking white stain on it. His hair is in disarray, not in the fashionable way he usually wears it, but a complete mess. It’s like he was trying to find something in it while he had gel all over his hands.
“What happened, mate?” I ask.
“What?” Elijah blinks his blue eyes at me, and I notice they have bags under them. He looks down at his clothes. “Oh… um…” He’s trying to hold in tears; I can tell, even in the dim light of the club. “Orlando,” He takes a deep, steadying breath, “Broke up with me.”
“Why?” I can’t believe it. Those two are inseparable. How could Orlando call it off?
“There’s someone else,” He looks casually to the dance floor, and I follow his gaze to where Orlando is stepping in-between Viggo and Dom, leaving the latter to find another person to dance with. The two still standing there kiss full on the lips.
“Viggo?” I ask, knowing the answer all-too well.
Elijah can’t even finish nodding before the tears are spilling down his cheeks. I’m suddenly proud of him for even daring to arrive in public after such a blow.
“Come on, Snicker doodle, I’ll take you home,” I say and help him get up as to wander through the crowd.
“Where are you going?” Dom suddenly appears in front of us.
“I’m taking Elijah home,” I state calmly.
“Why? The night has just begun!” Dom grabs Elijah and twirls him.
“Leave him alone,” I take Elijah away from Dom and force my way through the crowd.
“Bills!” Dom calls after me. I ignore him.
He follows us to the car park, trying to make me stop and talk to him. Elijah’s so exhausted from crying that he just sort of falls into his seat.
“What’s your damage, Bills?” Dom asks once I close the passenger door.
“Fuck, Dom,” I curse. “You practically molest Vig in front of me, and you ask me what my problem is?!” I didn’t realize that I had such an issue with it until I’m saying—no screaming—this to him.
“I like it when you get jealous; it’s hot,” Dom reaches out to tuck some hair behind my ear, but I pull back; for a moment, a flash of hurt shines in his grey eyes, and I’m surprised, but it’s gone in an instant. “Fine, Bills, you want it to be like that, it’ll be like that,” He turns and storms off as the evening fog rolls in.
I hop into the car and send Peter a text message, apologizing for leaving his birthday party early.
“Billy?” Elijah barely lifts his head. “Thanks,” then he passes out. The drive to his hotel is going to be deafeningly silent.
It occurs to me that I finally know the problem with falling for Dom: It’s Dom.
You can love him, hate him, worship him, but it’s all Dom—no matter how you look at it. He has this smile that can light up a room; this energy that siphons off him and becomes contagious. Dom has this way to make everyone adore him because he’s so insanely different. He has this personality that appeals to everyone; he’s so nice that people just go crazy over him. And you can’t really hate him—trust me, I’ve tried.
I suddenly feel sick. As thought my body is ready to flush out the poison of every smile, every kiss, every ounce of Dom that flows through my veins, out of my system. My mind has felt that way for a long time—no matter how much I love him. It’s like I know something’s wrong. Yet, it’s gone before I realize what’s happened, and I feel fine. In fact, music suddenly appeals to me.
I’m surprised Elijah sleeps all the way back to his hotel since I’m singing so loud. But when I pull into the car park, he’s still sound asleep.
I heave him out of the car and dig in his pockets until I find his key. Somehow, I manage to put the boy into bed. He looks like an angel that was just told Satan’s coming to heaven for a visit, but he has to be happy because he lives in paradise.
I go into the kitchen area and drop his keys on the breakfast bar. I turn to leave, but something catches my eye. On the desk, there’s a letter in Dom’s scribble. The messy letters form words that slowly swim into sense:
Dear Lij,
Sorry to hear about Orlando. I know that you cared for him. I hope this means that we can finally be together. I’m going to tell Billy about us—when the time is right. I love you.
Dom.
I drop the letter and run.
I don’t know how far I go before I keel over and dry heaves wrack my body.
No. No. No.
It’s an endless mantra in my mind. No… no… no…
The world goes dark.
*Fin*
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Anyway, as I said, I really did like this part!
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