Moving On (Coffee Cup Epiphanies) 2/7

[arabella-o.livejournal.com]

Title: Moving On (Coffee Cup Epiphanies)
Chapter: 2 of 7
Author: arabella_o
Summary: Fishing for second chances when you don't even realise you've missed the first.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: fic·tion - 1. An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. 2. The act of inventing such a creation or pretense.
Notes: For Cai the Magnificent. Chapter one is here. Another thanks to those who sent feedback.

Two:

Sunlight filtered in through the open living room window, falling directly on Dominic’s face. He groaned and raised his arms, crossing them over his eyes in an effort to block out the light. When he tried to roll over, he jolted his head and was left with the distinct impression that it would hurt less if it were to split right down the middle. He groaned again when the pounding in his head continued to increase.

Memories of last night at the pub flashed before Dominic’s closed eyes, complete with surround sound. Moving more slowly this time, he succeeded in rolling over so he could face the back of the sofa. The darkness was a welcome respite from the sun.

He was nearly asleep again when he heard the sound of footsteps in the hall and an all too familiar voice bellowed, “Christ, Dominic, what the fuck did you do last night?”

Dom's hands flew to his ears, trying to block out Elijah’s voice. He moaned when Elijah refused to take the hint and continued yelling as he got closer to the sofa. Dominic wasn’t sure, but he suspected that Elijah was stomping, on purpose.

“I called you four times last night, you stupid prick,” Elijah said as he grabbed the back of Dominic’s shirt and pulled sharply, forcing the other man to sit up awkwardly, his shoulder resting against the couch cushion and his legs folded uncomfortably beneath him. Dom rubbed at his face, grimacing as his stubble bit into his palms. His eyes were screwed shut and he refused to open them. Maybe if he sat there on the edge of the sofa with his hands over his face and his eyes closed, Elijah would suddenly cease to exist. After a moment, he peaked through his fingers and was disappointed to see Elijah still standing next to the coffee table, the cordless phone in his hand.

“Did you even check your messages?” he demanded.

Dom closed his eyes again and tried to remember whether or not he'd heard the phone ringing after he crashed for the night. He could vaguely remember knocking the phone onto the floor, so maybe Elijah had called, after all.

“Stop… yelling,” Dominic ground out, his hands once again going for his ears. “I’m sitting not two feet from you.”

“I’ll yell if I want to yell,” Elijah said, throwing the phone down onto the sofa. It bounced dangerously close to the edge, but did not fall to the floor. “You’ve been hiding, Dominic. Fucking hiding! How old are you, five? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that’s what a five year old does.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Dominic said roughly. He pulled himself to his feet and headed toward the kitchen. If he had to be awake, he might as well be semi-coherent. After the vast quantities of alcohol he’d consumed the night before, semi-coherent was the best Elijah was going to get.

“You ducked behind a bush, you stupid fuck! If that’s not hiding then call fucking Websters because it seems like the definition to me.” Elijah leaned in the kitchen doorway, watching through narrowed eyes as Dominic groped blindly for the coffee beans and the grinder.

With his eyes half closed, it took him two tries to get the lid off the canister of coffee beans. The curtains he had across the kitchen window were very nearly see-through, and let in more light than they blocked. Trying to escape Elijah in the sunniest room in the house hadn't been one of his better ideas. When Dom finally managed to get the beans into the grinder, he clenched his jaw and flipped the switch. The loud whirring of the grinder and the pain that arced across his forehead made Dominic vow to buy his coffee already ground from now on.

“Well? Are you even going to tell me what’s been eating at you for the last two days?” Elijah rolled his eyes when Dom’s answer was nothing more than a noncommittal grunt. “I know it has something to do with Billy. He’s been acting like a dipshit, too.”

“Then go harass him and leave me be,” Dominic snapped. He shut off the grinder and reached for the coffee maker. He couldn’t find the filters on the counter and paused with his hand a few inches from the cupboard door. He couldn’t even remember whether or not he'd actually bought more after he ran out.

With a snarl, Dominic reached for the roll of paper towels near the sink and tore off a sheet. He wanted coffee and it would do well enough as a makeshift filter.

“Sean’s doing that as we speak," Elijah continued. "Or snarl, in your case. You really do have a lovely disposition when you’re hung over as fuck, Dommie.” Dominic didn’t look up at Elijah. If the little twat blew him a kiss, Dominic would rip his head off, and in his present state he didn’t think he could hide a body.

“Fuck you,” Dominic muttered, instead focusing all his attention on getting water into the back of the coffee maker. “So why does Billy get Sean when I got stuck with you?”

“Because you’re the bigger fuckwit,” Elijah replied. He pushed away from the doorway and came into the kitchen. Pushing Dominic aside, he flipped on the switch for the coffee maker. “It works better when it’s on,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his every word. Dominic stepped back and looked at Elijah for a moment, wondering exactly what he’d done to piss him off so badly. After less than a minute he shook his head and pushed the thought away. It was too damn early and he was by far too hung over to go into everything he’d done over the last few days that might possibly have pissed Elijah off.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Elijah muttered. Reaching out, he fisted one hand in the collar of Dom's shirt and used the other to manoeuvre Dominic out of the kitchen. It took Dom a few moments to get over his shock and start struggling.

“What are you doing, you stupid tosser?” Dominic demanded as Elijah continued to shove him toward the stairs. He held tightly to the railing in an attempt to dig his heels into the carpet and stay where he was, but Elijah was nothing if not determined and he managed to somehow get Dominic up the stairs and down the short hallway toward the bathroom.

“Just keep moving your fat ass, Monaghan,” Elijah muttered. He pushed Dominic into the bathroom and kicked the door closed. The bathroom was small, nothing more than a closet with a sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower in the corner. The shower was Elijah’s destination, and he shoved and kicked at Dominic until they were standing inside. Holding his friend up against the wall with one hand, Elijah used his other to turn the shower on.

“Ah, fuck!” Dominic yelled, dancing a little in order to get away from the spray of cold water. Elijah adjusted the temperature and shoved Dominic forward.

“You stay here until you’re able to see straight and are feeling more conversational,” he instructed. From under the spray of water, Dominic glared at him, but it did little to bother Elijah. “I’ll be downstairs,” he said.

Elijah stepped out of the shower and closed the door, leaving Dominic alone in the shower stall, fully clothed and soaking wet.