Author: Minervacat
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: Dom/Orlando
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, didn't happen, this is entirely fictional, yo.
Summary: Dom's got himself something like a boyfriend, and that exempts Billy from all duties involving keeping Dominic out of trouble.

The last thing that someone like Dominic Monaghan needs is someone like Orlando Bloom encouraging him.

Or at least that's what Billy thinks.

He isn't opposed to whatever Dom and Orlando have going on, not in the least. Dom's happy, and Orlando's slightly less annoying, so it has to be good, right? Besides, Billy knows jealousy, and he knows what doomed-from-the-start relationships look like, and this isn't either of those things. Still, Billy just thinks that the last thing the two of them need is someone to encourage their excesses.

This realization has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Dominic's found a bottle of chocolate sauce somewhere, really, it doesn't, and he has a glint in his eye - and a hand on the hem of Orlando's t-shirt - that says he's got a Wicked Fun Idea involving said bottle.

Dom needs someone to tell him that anything involving Viggo's couch, Orlando's naked chest and chocolate is absolutely an idea he should stay far, far away from, but that's Orlando's job, not Billy's. Dom's got himself something like a boyfriend, and that exempts Billy from all duties involving keeping Dominic out of trouble.

Dom's got chocolate smudged at the corner of his mouth when Viggo starts shouting about perverse sexual activities on other people's furniture, and he looks up, startled, and grins wickedly at Billy.

Billy thinks that none of it is a particularly good idea, but he loves Dom, and Dom is happy, so that's all that matters, right?

Elijah would and does tell everyone in the cast that he's jealous of Dom and Orlando. Or envious, he's not really sure of the difference between jealousy and envy, and he's not sure if he wants what they have together, or if he wants to have one of them for himself.

But he's something, and seeing them together makes his stomach twist into uncomfortable knots that he doesn't really understand.

He's jealous because they can get away with a whole lot more than he can. Elijah's tied down to this diffuse notion of professionalism, and it isn't that Dom and Orli aren't professional - it's just that.

Well, he doesn't know what. But he watches them with interest because Dominic is magnetic, and everyone loves him, and because Orlando is beautiful, and everyone loves him. It isn't favouritism. It's that they're easy on the eyes and they're both terribly funny and they're a pair. They've got each other to lean on. Elijah will admit his raging jealousy, but he'd never tell anyone that he's homesick and lonely.

He is. He's jealous that they're not.

Elijah's got Sean, of course, but that's not by choice - that's a default setting, happenstance from filming, and Sean is kind and smart and funny. Elijah appreciates all that. He really does.

When he sees Dom lean into Orlando with a quiet sigh, sees Orlando press his lips to the top of Dom's head, his stomach knots up and all he can think is, I want that.

Astin passes no judgments.

He scolds and steals car keys when the owners are too drunk to drive and generally herds the other hobbits and Orlando around like they were small children or possibly cats, but he doesn't make proclamations or condemn anything he doesn't understand.

Sean certainly doesn't understand Dom and Orli, but that's his problem - not theirs.

For a long time, Sean assumed that every couple in the world - heterosexual or not, every couple that loved each other very much all the same - was like Chris and himself. Easy going, kind to each other, just your classic romantic movie stereotype of very much in love.

Not Dom and Orlando. Sean doesn't doubt that they love each other, because no one would put up with Dominic Monaghan or Orlando Bloom if they didn't love the mad bastards, but it's so odd, how they show it.

Dominic put a dead lizard in Orlando's coffee mug in the makeup trailer the other morning, which wasn't good for the lizard or Orlando or the coffee, or, ultimately, Dominic's Feet, because Orlando shrieked like a girl and upended the mug all over the latex attached to his ankles.

He then proceeded to rail at Dom for half an hour about cruelty to lizards and Orlandos and cups of coffee, ended the entire thing by going upside Dominic's head, and Sean doesn't have a doubt in the world that Orlando loves Dominic Monaghan more than he'll ever admit to the world at large.

Miranda, out of the goodness of her heart and because Viggo told her that they didn't do the dishes until there was absolutely nothing left to eat from, turns up to Dominic's flat every couple of weeks, just to make sure it hasn't been declared a national disaster area or a serious hazard to the health of humanity. She makes sure to stop by when she knows they aren't home, sneaks in with the spare key under the mat.

It isn't so much a flat as a den of iniquity, a love nest, the lair of two young men with their whole lives ahead of them. But it surprises her, the first time she sneaks in with big plans to scrub the loo from top to bottom - it's not messy so much as cluttered, not disastrous so much as lived in. They're not much for doing dishes, certainly, but mostly it's just a thick coating of script pages and clothing and shoes and fag ends in overflowing ashtrays.

She sanitizes the bathroom and moves for the kitchen, intent on the teetering pile of dishes. A photo on the icebox stops her for a moment.

Dom and Orlando in wetsuits, squinting into the sun, one of Orlando's arms wrapped around Dom's hip. They look tired but blissfully happy, and Miranda figures, if you've got that - well, why do your dishes?

She keeps cleaning surreptitiously and the photos on the icebox make her grin every time. She thinks it's a fair trade.