Part Two
Peanut Butter Quest
by Elfellon111
It comes out a little tired and frustrated and Elijah knows now is not the time to joke it away. He watches how Dom angrily closes the door on the driver's side of the car and he hops in on the other side, closing his door with a soft thud and trying to look anywhere but at a very angry Dom.
It isn't that bad, Elijah knows this. It's not like he did something terrible like coming out without Dom's permission, or being responsible for another one of his beloved bugs' death. He hasn't selfishly decided to adopt baby twins and they are certainly not splitting up. They are not fighting over something life-altering like that; Dom is pissed off with him over something really, really stupid, and Elijah has to fight to keep the smirk off his face.
He tries to ignore Dom's muttering on the other side of the gearshift and continues to make a serious effort of not looking at him because the truth is, when he and Dom are fighting over something silly, and his beautiful boyfriend becomes all flustered and grumpy and starts muttering rude Briticisms in a heavier-than-usual Mancunian accent, Elijah knows he will be hot and bothered within minutes.
In fact, he already feels a familiar and not unpleasant tightening in his jeans, and so he quickly reaches for the control panel of the car's hi-tech CD-player. He knows that facing Dom with a hard-on when they get out of the car in a couple of minutes, will not do. He needs to placate, not infuriate.
After another fifteen uncomfortable minutes Dom turns the car into the giant parking lot in front of a giant supermarket where they are going to put an end to Elijah's giant mistake.
They get out, Dom pops on his shades and Elijah takes the opportunity to adjust himself when Dom briefly looks away to spot the entrance of the enormous building. When he knows where to go he mutters Okay, c'mon Elwood under his breath and stalks off. Elijah shakes his head, smiling silently, and skipping a bit to catch up with Dom who is already halfway across the parking lot.
When they enter the enormous food store, Elijah is pleasantly hit by the sweep of cold air at the entrance, as he is still dressed in his long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He definitely needed them in autumnal Los Angeles but here in Hawaii he feels totally overdressed and he's sticky and sweaty because of it.
"It's gotta be here somewhere," Dom says, grabbing Elijah's hand and practically dragging him along the wide middle isle, eyes searching left and right. Large signs are hanging from the ceiling telling the customer what can be found in the smaller isles on the sides, and, stumbling to keep up with Dom, their hands still twined, Elijah scans the boards overhead, smiling when he spots their destination.
"It's just a little further, Dommie," he says, still smiling, and Dom lets go of his hand instantly, turning his head around, frowning.
"Don't call me that, Elwood," he snaps. "I'm still angry with you." He spins on his heels and starts walking again. "And wipe that smirk off your face!" he throws over his shoulder. Elijah grins audibly again and follows Dom at a slightly slower pace, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, making sure he brushes against his persistent semi-erection.
Dom disappears from his sight, taking a sudden left turn, and when Elijah catches up with him, he is already busy scanning the shelves. He moves to stand beside his lover and looks at the many jars as well, raising his eyebrows when he notices the unexpectedly wide range of brands and flavours.
"Er...erm..." he stutters, trying to start a systematical search of the three shelves of golden brownish jars, but becoming distracted again and again by Dom's angry huffing and muttered curses.
"Erm quite covers it, Elwood," Dom grumbles and turns to look at Elijah. "Look at all these brands! So many of them! Which one are we going to take? Hmm?" Dom turns around again, eyebrows knitted, and he lifts a random jar from its place in order to read the label.
"If it hadn't been for your notorious greed we wouldn't even be here," he continues, grabbing another jar, comparing the two. "Instead of trying to figure out which flavour is going to cut it for us, we could have been back home... I should be covering you in this stuff and fuck your brains out, Doodle. This is a waste of time. Time I have but little of these days."
He puts both jars back in their previous spots and reaches out to pick up another one. "Regular, smooth, extra smooth, with crushed or whole peanuts added, dark brown, light brown, combined colours... Fuck, Elwood, where do we start?! Look at this," he continues and grabs two new jars, almost forcefully shoving them into Elijah's face. "European imported stuff, Stateside brands, generic shit. Have you got any fucking clue as to which one we are going to like?!"
Elijah stares at his shoes and extracts one hand from his jeans pocket. He carefully takes one of the jars out of Dom's hand, eyes innocently locking onto his boyfriend's and he lifts his other hand with which he starts to unscrew the cap.
Dom looks around him, a bit nervous all of a sudden, 'cause what the fuck is Elijah up to now? "What the fuck are you up to now, Lij?" he hisses out the question, the frown on his face never wavering. "You can't go unscrewing the caps to all these jars, what if someone catches us?"
Elijah seems completely unphased as he puts the cap onto the shelf and dips his forefinger into the thick, brownish goo. "Lij!" Dom grits out between his teeth. "You can't do this, man. You really ca..." But Dom does not get to finish his sentence as he watches Elijah put his peanut butter covered finger into his mouth, suckling it with his eyes closed, frowning a little, seriously sampling the spread.
"No," he whispers softly and opens his eyes. He screws the cap back on and shoves the jar to the back of the shelf. "Not by a long shot."
Dom is frantically looking around again, afraid that at any moment a staff member comes walking down their isle. Just when he is about to warn Elijah once more, he notices that his boyfriend has already opened another jar, dipping that same forefinger in, lifting it seductively to his wet, pink lips. Dom knows he looks like a fool, but he can't help his mouth going slack as he watches Elijah suck his own finger a second time, a bit longer, a bit more intense, and he almost shudders with the squelching sound of the digit being removed from between tongue and lips.
"Any good?" he whispers and waits for Elijah to open his eyes.
"We're getting there," is the answer, and Dom watches in amazement how Elijah dips his finger into the same jar once more. He digs up a considerable dollop and he locks his eyes with Dom's. "Open up, Dommie," he says, voice only slightly hoarse. Completely forgetting about the fact that he wanted to act angry and pissy all through this exercise, Dom parts his lips and feels how Elijah's finger touches his tongue. He sucks the peanut butter off and moans softly, low in his throat.
"Not bad, huh?" Elijah asks, and looks expectantly at Dom, who suckles the tip of his boyfriend's finger a little bit longer, just because he can. Not aware that he had shut them, Dom opens his eyes and looks at Elijah, releasing the small nailbitten finger, desperately trying to at least nod. "Not bad at all," is all he says eventually.
Elijah lifts a third jar, continues to unscrew the cap as if it is the most normal business in the world to sample peanut butter from random jars in a food store, and resolutely sticks his finger deeply into the jar's sticky contents. He sucks determinedly and slides his finger up and down his lips a bit, tilting his head slightly, trying to catch every last bit of crushed peanut that is left on his finger. A blissful moan escapes those same lips, and Dom is almost jumping with impatience.
"Taste," he mutters. "I want to taste."
Elijah's eyes snap open and suddenly the usually warm blue has acquired a bit of that glacier quality it sometimes gets when Elijah is annoyed. "I thought you were angry with me," he says, and there is a hint of coldness in his voice.
Dom doesn't know how to react. Part of him wants to keep up the I-am-totally-pissed-off-with-you charade, because he likes to be angry with Elijah every once in a while, as it is damn difficult to find fault in his easy-going-if-somewhat-sloppy boyfriend. A much bigger part of him, however, wants to have that stubby little finger in his mouth right now, suckling the peanut butter off, maybe even simultaneously brush that delicious erection which is steadily growing in Elijah's tight jeans with his other hand.
"Well, Doodle," he starts and moves closer to where Elijah is standing. "You must admit it was a pretty stupid thing to do, right? Eating the entire jar on the plane ride out here!" He has placed his hand under Elijah's chin and forces him to look up. "I was supposed to be smearing it onto your body, love," his voice drops to a mere whisper and the glacier glare leaves Elijah's blue eyes. "I was so looking forward to covering you in the extra smooth we always eat back home. The one they don't sell here, Doodle." He wraps an arm around Elijah's neck and the jar gets caught between their chests. "I wanted to put some on those perky little nipples of yours and lick it off of them, watch them go all stiff and rough and then rub my hand against them."
Elijah's hand moves back to the jar again while shuffling that impossible inch closer to Dom's body, searching for the feel of his hard-on against Dom's.
"I needed you to bring peanut butter because I wanted to smear it onto your belly, drawing little figures in it and then eat it off, offering you a taste too every now and then."
Involuntarily, Elijah's finger dips deep into the jar while his eyes never leave Dom's and he can feel how his heart, by now, is almost thundering out of his ribcage.
"I have had dreams of covering your dick in little dabs of peanut butter, Lij, and then slowly lick them all off of you, one by one, all the way from your balls up to the tip. And then I would blow you to pieces..."
Elijah feels how his cock twitches in the uncomfortable confines of his jeans and he can barely repress the need to lower his hand and just stroke himself through the fabric, at least to alleviate some of the tension. He withdraws his finger from the jar and teasingly slowly brings it up to Dom's mouth, watching him part his lips, inserting his finger.
When he feels the overwhelming heat close around his finger, he unconsciously pushes his crotch closer to Dom's, hoping desperately to find some form of friction, groaning when Dom inches his hand between their bodies to squeeze his cock through the denim, in time with the fervent sucking around his finger.
When he has licked the finger clean and Elijah reluctantly removes it from Dom's hot mouth, arms envelop him in a bear hug and he hears a husky voice close to his ear. "I should have been doing that to you back home, love. And I hate the fact that we're here, because all I really want to do is tear those jeans of yours down to your ankles and hold your dick in my hand and stroke it, pump it, make you come..."
Groaning with need, they manage to disentangle themselves and Elijah quickly screws the cap back on the half empty jar. Dom grabs some more jars of the same brand and turns around, wanting to find the check-out so that he can pay for their fucking peanut butter and leave this place.
He wants to go home, undress a clearly fully aroused Elijah and slab some delicious peanut butter onto him. While waiting in line for the check-out girl to help them, he hears Elijah groan softly behind him. He chuckles inaudibly when he realises the state Elijah is in, and for the first time since his blue-eyed baby arrived from LA and he found out what had happened to their favourite sex toy, he offers the world a genuine smile.
The girl raises her eyebrows only marginally when she notices how five jars of peanut butter pass under her hands, but she keeps her comments to herself, and before they know it, they're already out on the parking lot, almost running back to Dom's car.
"Home, Doodle," Dom grins and unlocks the car doors, watching Elijah getting comfortable in the passenger seat with the jars in his lap and between his legs.
"And don't you dare start without me!"
Part Three
The Peanut Butter Tig-Index
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