The room is so quiet, Dom can hear Elijah's skin creak against the wood as he tightens his grip on the headboard.
All the lights are off and the blinds are drawn; outside, the silhouettes of houses and cars parked in the streets emerge from the darkness as the sun begins to creep over the valley. What little light manages to find its way through the cracks between the windows and the shades slides across the walls and onto the bed. Elijah's skin seems paler in here, as if glowing from the inside like the surface of the moon, and it reminds Dom of Frodo in the books.
He looks up and down Elijah's body, which thrums and shimmers with a strange tension amidst the dark sheets. Every muscle is taut and clenched beneath the skin; he seems still, but everywhere tiny movements send shivers though his arms and legs. Elijah's head pushes squarely into the pillow and Dom can see his eyes moving back and forth behind the tightly shut lids. His lips are pressed firmly into a thin white line.
"Cold?" Dom asks, watching another tremor move through him.
"It itches," Elijah says. His toes flex quickly and then clench again, this time catching some of the navy blue linens. There is the soft sound of cotton moving against itself and against the pale skin of Elijah's bare legs as he begins to squirm, tugging at the sheets with his feet.
There's a smile creeping into Dom's voice when he says, "I'm sure it does." Elijah opens his eyes to see Dom above him, his shoulders catching the light but his face in shadow. The grays to Dominic's eyes are hidden, but their glassy surfaces reflect some of the light, whittling it down into two thin slivers. Elijah releases the headboard with one hand and touches lightly the dark mark on the curve of Dom's right shoulder. He's pleased to see the corner of Dom's mouth hitch upward into a smirk. "Mine doesn't," Dom adds and flashes teeth. "Besides, you couldn't scratch even if you wanted to...you need nails to do that."
Elijah turns his head and laughs into the pillow as Dom pulls slowly away. Propped up on his wrists, his forearms tremble slightly as he bends close to Elijah's waist. Dom savours the soft scrape of his stubble against the sensitive skin of Elijah's belly, and Elijah shivers again--differently this time. From the head of the bed, he makes a noise: a soft "oh" that is more breath than actual speech, like when he exhales the smoke to one of his clove cigarettes. Beneath Dom's cheek, Elijah bends his back upwards to prolong the contact. "Oi, don't fuss," Dominic says and pushes him back down, gently.
Dom's fingers are delicate, tracing wayward paths across Elijah's torso as they travel to the waist of his boxers. They remind him of daddy longlegs--those awkward, spindly spiders that he would catch with cupped hands as a child. They creep, carefully lifting the elastic band and pulling it down, exposing the rise of his right hip. There is a slight chill as the cool air hits the skin, and Elijah twitches fitfully under Dom's hands.
Dom pauses, fascinated by Elijah's tattoo, which for some reason is lagging in the healing process behind everyone else's. It looks fake, like the kind of tattoos you get in Cracker Jack boxes or those small vending machines at the movie theatre. The inked area is slightly raised and rough, like embossed watercolor paper, and the skin at its edges is an irritated, angry pink. When Dom dips out his tongue to brush against it, the scab is coarse against the tip. It makes Dom think of the time he kissed Elijah at Te Anau with dry chapped lips, as Viggo took photographs he promised no one would ever see. Elijah makes a noise again, louder and more intentional, and Dom interprets it as a request. He licks again, harder this time, and he can taste the ink and Elijah's sweat--both metallic and sharply bitter.
Elijah can feel himself beginning to unravel beneath Dominic's mouth as his hands wander elsewhere, ghosting across his skin. There is worship in that touch--a sacred whisper of devotion tinged with longing--beautiful and terrible like divine epiphany. Another itch is growing, at the base of Elijah's spine and in the small of his arched back. He moves suddenly and without warning, pulling Dom back towards the head of the bed and onto of him. When he finally kisses Dominic, it's not only with his lips, but with his teeth as well. Elijah forgets his tattoo as he murmurs into the open mouth above him, his own hands moving over the tangled sheets and his whole body begging Dominic to scratch.
