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fox_confessorTitle: Satellite
Characters: elijah and david wenham, bb/dm implied
Words: 1420
Notes: Another I wrote a while ago and just found again, except I just tagged on another 500 words to the end, so newish now :D After (or rather, during) the epilogue of the end of Case of You but a few months before Auld Lang Syne
Elijah opened his eyes, startled out of sleep as if a gunshot had gone off when a door down the hall quietly clicked closed. He raised up, the tatty couch creaking beneath him, and passed his hand over his face before he stretched to look to see which door had been shut. All was quiet. He was tempted to creep down the hall and see if Billy had gone in with Dominic, which was his first thought (hope), but found he didn't really want to know--didn't want to deal with the fall out if Billy hadn't.
Instead, Elijah rolled off the couch, yawning broadly, before he grabbed his mobile, cigarettes, and a book of matches advertising Pablo's Italian Trattoria and Dance Hall, and stepped outside. He caught the screen door with his foot to keep it from slamming and held it for a second before letting it close gently behind him.
The night was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the small lamp in Billy's front room, barely enough to see by. Elijah sat on the front step, set his phone and cigarettes on the ground between his feet, and leaned his elbows on his knees, his thoughts going to Billy, to the look that crossed his face whenever Billy looked at Dominic.
Elijah had lived with Dominic's frenetic energy for a long time. He knew it, was almost comfortable with it, if anything about Dominic over the last few months could be called comfortable. It was at least familiar. This restlessness of Billy's was something different--foreign--and it even seemed to throw Dominic off. He didn't blame Dominic for wanting to leave but it made him feel worse for Billy.
Somewhere far away came the sound of someone attempting to pick out a song on a guitar, disturbing his thoughts. Elijah sat up straighter, trying to determine where it was coming from, who it might be playing for. The sound was halting, as if someone was just learning to play a love song and not having much success. It sounded like Dominic had when he had hassled Billy into a lesson earlier in the week. Elijah had heard him play on his own frequently enough to know Dominic was better than he ever let Billy hear.
Elijah's phone rang, a tinny Macarena playing counterpoint to the guitar, and Elijah huffed out an embarrassed breath as he remembered a drunk Billy insisting that everyone change their ring tones. Dominic's was Feliz Navidad, which had made Billy cackle every time it rang out as they shopped in the market. Dominic had just grinned back at him, wiping the sweat from his face as they stood in the heavy heat of August, not even bothering to answer his call.
Elijah looked at the display, stunned to finally have found a signal, and expected to see Hannah's number. It wasn't. He smiled and flipped open his phone. "Daisy," he said by way of greeting. "You've no idea how glad I am to hear your voice."
"Where are you?"
It'd become a traditional hello for alumni of the movie and it made Elijah grin, happy enough to remember that the last several years had been something more than wearing latex feet and chasing after Billy and Dom. "Mexico. I came down with Dom to visit Billy."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, sure."
"You sound down."
Elijah envisioned David, his forehead creasing with a worried frown, grown accustomed to playing den mother to his rowdy friends. It was a strange place for the youngest of six siblings but David was sometimes more Steward of Gondor than anybody's baby brother. Elijah kind of itched to trace his fingers over David's skin, his mouth drawn into a thin line of hard earned patience. He knew there would be some comfort in it. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here."
"Surfing?"
"Some."
"They'll sort themselves, Doodle."
"In my lifetime? It's like I'm, I don't know, some kind of witness to the whole thing. Like I need to be here in case someone comes looking for survivors."
"There's a cheerful thought. You could always go home, or is the surfing that good."
"Dom's already threatened to." Elijah worried at his thumb nail, pulling at a hangnail before he gave it up and rubbed his fingers against his thigh. The guitar had been replaced with a radio and Elijah thought they must be on the beach. He stood, retrieved his cigarettes, and took a few steps into the darkness, worrying some about walking down to the beach in his bare feet. "Talk to me about something else."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Where are you now?"
"Bed."
"Did I wake you?"
"You did, but I don't mind."
"Wait. You called me." Elijah caught the sound of David laughing softly down the line and he pushed the phone harder against his ear, suddenly missing David terribly. "What continent are you on?"
"I'm home. I'm in Australia. I told you I was coming back."
"I know. I lost track."
"You should come surf here. The waves are better."
The sand was still warm on the beach and at the other end, Elijah could see a group of people around a bonfire--the source of the music. He watched them for a moment and then walked down to the water's edge. It was calm tonight, certainly quieter than it had been earlier in the day. Elijah stood quietly and let the water wash over his feet and dampen the frayed edges his jeans.
"What do you see?"
The sound of David's voice startled him and he looked around, huffing out a laugh when he catches himself at it. He looked up at the sky tipped like a great overturned bowl, deep blue and stretching forever. There was no moon, only the glittering of thousands of stars. "I don't know. You were always better at that than me. Pisces? Is that an option?"
"It's always an option."
There was something deeply inviting in the sound of David's voice and Elijah twisted himself until he collapsed onto the wet sand, the slow tide rolling up over his thighs. "I miss you, Daisy."
"Me or New Zealand?"
"Both, but mostly, you."
"So come see me."
"I want to."
"But."
"I don't know," and Elijah found that he really didn't know. He was afraid of wanting David, and not being wanted back, but he couldn't say it out loud. Not yet.
"You're not responsible for them," David said quietly.
Elijah sighed at the misunderstanding, let David believe it. He reasoned it wasn't that far from the truth. "I know," he said, dismissing it. "I'm going to New York for Christmas. Come see me then."
"We were talking about you coming here."
"I know but Christmas is like months away. No, wait. New Year's, that's better. Come then."
"Elijah--"
"You don't have to," Elijah rushed on quickly, knowing he was babbling but rather unable to stop himself now that he'd started. It seemed important suddenly to convince David to visit, to have something between them, to have some sort of deadline for Elijah to sort his head out, especially if he still meant to give advice to the lovelorn. "Don't answer now, let's just pretend that you'll come, right? We'll go ice skating and watch the ball drop in Times Square. I'll buy you a I love New York shirt. Just--"
"Elijah--"
"Just think about it." Think about me, he wanted to add but didn't because it sounded needy even in thought, to desperate for someone still trying to figure out what he wanted.
"All right."
They were silent, Elijah listening to David breath and cataloging all the places he felt gritty with sand. He knew he should go back up to the house, should let David go. He closed his eyes and held the phone closer to his ear.
"Hey," he whispered after a moment, and heard David hum in reply. "There's this guy down the beach. He's playing guitar, badly."
"What else, Doodle. Tell me."
"It's dark. Billy's got this, I don't know, cottage, I guess, right on the beach. It's nice. Warm. I've got sand everywhere, and there's this light out in the water, I guess a fishing boat."
"Sounds nice, like a postcard."
"Wish you were here," Elijah said, meaning it to sound like a joke but his voice caught and it came out breathy, like he meant it. He's not surprised to find that he does. "I miss you, David."
"I miss you, too."
Characters: elijah and david wenham, bb/dm implied
Words: 1420
Notes: Another I wrote a while ago and just found again, except I just tagged on another 500 words to the end, so newish now :D After (or rather, during) the epilogue of the end of Case of You but a few months before Auld Lang Syne
Elijah opened his eyes, startled out of sleep as if a gunshot had gone off when a door down the hall quietly clicked closed. He raised up, the tatty couch creaking beneath him, and passed his hand over his face before he stretched to look to see which door had been shut. All was quiet. He was tempted to creep down the hall and see if Billy had gone in with Dominic, which was his first thought (hope), but found he didn't really want to know--didn't want to deal with the fall out if Billy hadn't.
Instead, Elijah rolled off the couch, yawning broadly, before he grabbed his mobile, cigarettes, and a book of matches advertising Pablo's Italian Trattoria and Dance Hall, and stepped outside. He caught the screen door with his foot to keep it from slamming and held it for a second before letting it close gently behind him.
The night was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the small lamp in Billy's front room, barely enough to see by. Elijah sat on the front step, set his phone and cigarettes on the ground between his feet, and leaned his elbows on his knees, his thoughts going to Billy, to the look that crossed his face whenever Billy looked at Dominic.
Elijah had lived with Dominic's frenetic energy for a long time. He knew it, was almost comfortable with it, if anything about Dominic over the last few months could be called comfortable. It was at least familiar. This restlessness of Billy's was something different--foreign--and it even seemed to throw Dominic off. He didn't blame Dominic for wanting to leave but it made him feel worse for Billy.
Somewhere far away came the sound of someone attempting to pick out a song on a guitar, disturbing his thoughts. Elijah sat up straighter, trying to determine where it was coming from, who it might be playing for. The sound was halting, as if someone was just learning to play a love song and not having much success. It sounded like Dominic had when he had hassled Billy into a lesson earlier in the week. Elijah had heard him play on his own frequently enough to know Dominic was better than he ever let Billy hear.
Elijah's phone rang, a tinny Macarena playing counterpoint to the guitar, and Elijah huffed out an embarrassed breath as he remembered a drunk Billy insisting that everyone change their ring tones. Dominic's was Feliz Navidad, which had made Billy cackle every time it rang out as they shopped in the market. Dominic had just grinned back at him, wiping the sweat from his face as they stood in the heavy heat of August, not even bothering to answer his call.
Elijah looked at the display, stunned to finally have found a signal, and expected to see Hannah's number. It wasn't. He smiled and flipped open his phone. "Daisy," he said by way of greeting. "You've no idea how glad I am to hear your voice."
"Where are you?"
It'd become a traditional hello for alumni of the movie and it made Elijah grin, happy enough to remember that the last several years had been something more than wearing latex feet and chasing after Billy and Dom. "Mexico. I came down with Dom to visit Billy."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, sure."
"You sound down."
Elijah envisioned David, his forehead creasing with a worried frown, grown accustomed to playing den mother to his rowdy friends. It was a strange place for the youngest of six siblings but David was sometimes more Steward of Gondor than anybody's baby brother. Elijah kind of itched to trace his fingers over David's skin, his mouth drawn into a thin line of hard earned patience. He knew there would be some comfort in it. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here."
"Surfing?"
"Some."
"They'll sort themselves, Doodle."
"In my lifetime? It's like I'm, I don't know, some kind of witness to the whole thing. Like I need to be here in case someone comes looking for survivors."
"There's a cheerful thought. You could always go home, or is the surfing that good."
"Dom's already threatened to." Elijah worried at his thumb nail, pulling at a hangnail before he gave it up and rubbed his fingers against his thigh. The guitar had been replaced with a radio and Elijah thought they must be on the beach. He stood, retrieved his cigarettes, and took a few steps into the darkness, worrying some about walking down to the beach in his bare feet. "Talk to me about something else."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Where are you now?"
"Bed."
"Did I wake you?"
"You did, but I don't mind."
"Wait. You called me." Elijah caught the sound of David laughing softly down the line and he pushed the phone harder against his ear, suddenly missing David terribly. "What continent are you on?"
"I'm home. I'm in Australia. I told you I was coming back."
"I know. I lost track."
"You should come surf here. The waves are better."
The sand was still warm on the beach and at the other end, Elijah could see a group of people around a bonfire--the source of the music. He watched them for a moment and then walked down to the water's edge. It was calm tonight, certainly quieter than it had been earlier in the day. Elijah stood quietly and let the water wash over his feet and dampen the frayed edges his jeans.
"What do you see?"
The sound of David's voice startled him and he looked around, huffing out a laugh when he catches himself at it. He looked up at the sky tipped like a great overturned bowl, deep blue and stretching forever. There was no moon, only the glittering of thousands of stars. "I don't know. You were always better at that than me. Pisces? Is that an option?"
"It's always an option."
There was something deeply inviting in the sound of David's voice and Elijah twisted himself until he collapsed onto the wet sand, the slow tide rolling up over his thighs. "I miss you, Daisy."
"Me or New Zealand?"
"Both, but mostly, you."
"So come see me."
"I want to."
"But."
"I don't know," and Elijah found that he really didn't know. He was afraid of wanting David, and not being wanted back, but he couldn't say it out loud. Not yet.
"You're not responsible for them," David said quietly.
Elijah sighed at the misunderstanding, let David believe it. He reasoned it wasn't that far from the truth. "I know," he said, dismissing it. "I'm going to New York for Christmas. Come see me then."
"We were talking about you coming here."
"I know but Christmas is like months away. No, wait. New Year's, that's better. Come then."
"Elijah--"
"You don't have to," Elijah rushed on quickly, knowing he was babbling but rather unable to stop himself now that he'd started. It seemed important suddenly to convince David to visit, to have something between them, to have some sort of deadline for Elijah to sort his head out, especially if he still meant to give advice to the lovelorn. "Don't answer now, let's just pretend that you'll come, right? We'll go ice skating and watch the ball drop in Times Square. I'll buy you a I love New York shirt. Just--"
"Elijah--"
"Just think about it." Think about me, he wanted to add but didn't because it sounded needy even in thought, to desperate for someone still trying to figure out what he wanted.
"All right."
They were silent, Elijah listening to David breath and cataloging all the places he felt gritty with sand. He knew he should go back up to the house, should let David go. He closed his eyes and held the phone closer to his ear.
"Hey," he whispered after a moment, and heard David hum in reply. "There's this guy down the beach. He's playing guitar, badly."
"What else, Doodle. Tell me."
"It's dark. Billy's got this, I don't know, cottage, I guess, right on the beach. It's nice. Warm. I've got sand everywhere, and there's this light out in the water, I guess a fishing boat."
"Sounds nice, like a postcard."
"Wish you were here," Elijah said, meaning it to sound like a joke but his voice caught and it came out breathy, like he meant it. He's not surprised to find that he does. "I miss you, David."
"I miss you, too."