Back in Five

~1400 words :: LotRiPS :: Dom/Elijah :: 10/4/06
Elijah’s summer job’s been boring as fuck until tonight.

“Okay, you’ve got a no-smoking room,” Elijah says, counting out the money and putting it in the register. “There’s wireless access and basic cable, and we have a continental breakfast at eight.” Smiling, he hands over the key card. “Anything else I can help you with, Sir?”


“I’m sorry?”

“You can call me Dom,” the guy says, and Elijah’s gaze flicks down to the paperwork – Monaghan, Dominic – and back up to the crooked grin trained on him.

“Well, then, Dom,” Elijah grins back, a little flutter of excitement in his belly, “is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Not right now.”

Fuck, was that a wink?

“Right. Well,” Elijah says, looking away, “um, if you need anything, you, uh…know where to find me.”

Lame, Elwood. Fucking lame.

He doesn’t even listen to what the guy says as he leaves. “Dom.” Elijah tries it outloud, mimicking the guy’s British accent. “Dom.” If he says it enough times, maybe it will reveal the secrets of the universe, like, “Was he flirting with me?” Especially that one.

It’s been slow this week. An older couple checked in earlier tonight, but that’s been it on Elijah’s shift. And then out of nowhere, there’s this British guy, all black nail polish and needing a shave, and that accent that goes straight to Elijah’s cock.

Elijah wonders what he’s doing here. Driving cross-country, maybe. Most people are just passing through. Elijah doesn’t blame them. He wishes he were, too. Not much to recommend Iowa.

He chews his lip and files the paperwork. He putters around a bit, straightening up. Nail polish is kind of gay, isn’t it? He gets himself a Coke from the machine down the hall and snags one of the little mini boxes of Fruit Loops from the breakfast room.

He cleans his glasses on his t-shirt several times, never quite satisfied with the results. In between handfuls of Fruit Loops, he chews the ragged edges of a nail that’s already down to the quick and wishes he hadn’t smoked his last cigarette earlier.

No one else is going to check in this late. It’s fucking dead; no one would notice if he left the desk, just for a few minutes. He didn’t tell Dom where the laundry room is, or the pool hours. And check-out time. He totally forgot to mention check-out time is at noon.

Well, that settles it. It’s not like he’ll be long, and if someone does show up, he has a totally legitimate excuse for not being behind the desk. He dashes off a quick note – “back in five minutes” – and tapes it to the door before locking up. There. All taken care of.

He takes the stairs two-by-two. What if Dom’s already asleep? It’s the middle of the night, long drive. He could’ve crashed right away. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Elijah raps lightly on the door. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Just a sec,” Dom calls, sounding perfectly awake, so that’s all right.

But when he opens the door, it’s not all right. Elijah doesn’t even hear what he says, because there’s that sexy British accent, now with added low-slung towel and damp pink skin, and fuck, Elijah’s getting hard.

He swallows and forces himself to look away from the patch of pubes showing above the top of the towel. “Uh…”

“You just come up here to stare?” Dom says, grinning broadly.

“No, I, uh…” Elijah swallows again. “Just um…forgot to tell you check-out’s at noon.”

“Yeah? That’s it?”

Dom stretches, arms crossed behind his head. Is that tired stretching or look-my-abs-are-pretty-nice stretching? Fuck, how are you supposed to tell?

“Yeah…no! I mean, uh. Can I come in?”

“What about…?” Dom jerks his head in the direction of the office.

“It’s okay,” Elijah says quickly, rubbing his palms on his jeans. “No one ever checks in this late.”

“I did.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is that a ‘no’? Is that a ‘why are you up here and not behind the counter doing your job?’ “No one but you.” God, he wishes he had a cigarette. “I put a note on the door.”

“Oh, well,” Dom grins, stepping back and motioning Elijah in, “that’s all right, then.”

But he doesn’t step back too far and the door’s not open all the way and Elijah can’t help brushing against him as he steps inside. That’s the point, though, isn’t it? Dom slides an arm around his waist as the door clicks shut, pulling him closer, and yeah, Elijah guesses that is the point.

Dom’s mouth is on his, stubble scraping his chin. It feels weird, but good-weird, and there’s nothing weird-feeling about Dom’s ass in his hands, round and firm. Dom spreads his legs and Elijah hikes the towel up to get a better grip, sliding his fingers into the damp crack.

Moaning, Elijah grinds his dick against Dom’s hip. Dom’s just as hard and making these little noises into Elijah’s mouth, and fuck, does Dom want Elijah to fuck him?

“D’you,” Elijah gasps, pulling away. The towel falls to the ground. “D’you have a condom?”

“Yeah, in my…” He’s already moving away, reaching for a backpack on the bed.

Elijah tugs his shirt over his head, eyeing Dom’s ass as he rummages through the backpack. Shoes and jeans are next, then his boxers, damp in front where he’s been leaking pre-come like there’s no tomorrow. God, it’s been months since he got laid. Not since Grad Night and Josh, if you could even call that drunken fumbling getting laid.

And then Dom’s pressing a condom and lube into his hand and pulling him down onto the bed, and fuck Josh, Elijah has much better things to think about now. It takes three tries to get the condom package open. Stop. Being. Nervous, Elwood, you fuck. He’s gonna think you’re a fucking virgin. Not that it’s far from the truth, but Dom definitely doesn’t need to know that. Okay, condom’s on. Shit. Don’t come from fucking putting the condom on.

He squirts lube on his fingers. Too much. Well, you can’t have too much, can you? Dom’s ass is hot around his fingers, and the sight of him holding his legs up in the air is hot, too.

“Just hurry up and fuck me.”

Okay, yeah, Elijah can take a hint. Or not a hint, whatever. Direction. He can take direction. He shuffles forward, holds his dick in place as he pushes in. “Yeah. Oh yeah, fuck…”

“I won’t break.”

Good, because Elijah couldn’t go slow anymore if his life depended on it. Gripping Dom’s legs with slippery fingers, he shoves in hard, really pounding. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and ragged breathing and the little “ungh ungh ungh” sounds Dom is making.

Fuck, is the AC off? Elijah’s sweating like he’s in a fucking sauna. It plasters his hair to his forehead and stings his eyes and drips down onto Dom’s chest.

Not that Dom seems to mind. He’s got his eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between his teeth, and his hand’s moving furiously on his dick. He’s still making those noises; good thing he’s not talking with that British accent, cause Elijah’s this close to coming already.

Sweat and lube make Elijah’s hands slip on Dom’s thighs, and when he shifts to keep his balance, Dom’s eyes fly open. “Fuck! Like that, like ngh…ah…” And just like that, he’s shooting all over his chest and his ass is tightening around Elijah’s dick and with a groan, Elijah’s coming, too.

When it’s over – too soon – he holds onto the condom and pulls out. He flops down next to Dom. “Fuck…”


“That was more than five minutes.”


“The note.” Pushing up onto his elbow, Elijah pulls off the condom, ties a knot in it, and lobs it towards the trash can. It falls short by about two feet. “Put a note on the door…back in five.”

“So what?”

“Yeah.” Elijah flops back down, grinning up at the ceiling. “So what?”