by Megolas

It was the night of the Oscars and Dom, Billy and Orlando were not strolling up the famous red carpet. Instead they were heading toward plastered in a bar, which, of course, was showing the Oscars on the wide screen television. This led to them playing a drunken, bitter version of a drinking game. One shot every time there was a reaction shot they should have been in, two shots if it was for a category that the film was nominated in, three if they won and four if they didn't.

There were an awful lot of shots drunk that night. Halfway through, they gave up on the drinking game and just threw the shots back. Occasionally they stopped and watched the screen, cheering when Lord of the Rings was mentioned or a clip was shown. Orlando and Dominic found Whoopi's hobbit feet so amusing that they almost fell off their chairs, while Billy slurred something about how she didn't have to get up at 4:30 in the morning and stand in the foot glue for an hour to have hers done. It was unfair, he said, waving a glass drunkenly in the air while Dom and Orlando snickered and swayed dangerously closer to falling over.

When Jim Broadbent won Best Supporting Actor over Ian, they threw their beermats at the screen, and were politely asked to leave. They decided to go find a party to hijack instead.

But that involved standing up straight and not stumbling, and as they discovered, none of their brains were actually talking to the rest of their bodies. Dom swayed, one hand groping for something to hold on, to as Orlando pitched forward on long, gangly legs, narrowly missed colliding with Billy and ended up with an arm around Dom's shoulder. Billy blinked, grabbed hold of Dom's free arm as it groped past and they were off, swaying like they were caught in a breeze but definitely on their way out the door.

"So," slurred Dom, crushed between Orlando and Billy as they stood on the sidewalk, "where're we going to now?"

"A party!"

"Yes, but which one?"


"Phone...phone...Lij? He can get us into one."

Orlando slid his hand further down Dominic's arm to paw at Billy's shoulder. "That.. that's a good idea, hobbit."

Elijah took their phone call with whoops of glee. And after a short taxi ride, they were outside and Elijah was attempting to sneak them into the party. He was foiled by the press, of course, who all descended on them, cameras flashing and microphones everywhere.

"Orlando! What are your thoughts on not being at the Oscars?" A short woman with violently blonde hair shoved a microphone into Orlando's face and he blinked, smiling for the cameras, one arm still slung around Dominic's shoulders.

"I don't actually mind. These two hobbits and I watched it from the comfort of a bar. A lot more fun, if you ask me." The reporter laughed and they took the chance to continue on into the party.

They grabbed the biggest table they could find, at the back of the room, and sat down, drinks in hand. There was a moment of silence and then they all started talking at once. Billy was trying to explain something to Elijah and, in the process, managed to knock the flower vase over, water pooling in the middle of the table. "Uh, oops."

Elijah started twisting a napkin around his fingers. "So, um. You guys not too annoyed?"

Orlando laughed, hands slipping around Elijah's waist to goose him. "Not with you, anyway. 'cause you're too small and cute."

Elijah yowled in horror. "Am not small and cute!"

"Are too."

Billy laughed. "Face it Lij, you're small and cute."

"There is no escaping the fact," added Dom, grinning broadly over his drink, "that you are a freakishly cute, bug-eyed shortarse."

Elijah sulked, trapped in his seat by Orlando's hands. "This is unfair! You guys are twice as drunk as me. Unfair advantage, I say."

Orlando snorted. "Well, that's easily sorted. We'll just go back to someone's hotel room and get you plastered. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good to me," said Dom, pushing back his chair and standing up. "Lead the way, Elf."

Billy's hotel room contained a well-stocked mini-bar. Well-stocked until three hobbits and an elf got hold of it, anyway.

Elijah stood in the middle of the room, clutching a empty glass in one hand. He yelped as someone's fingers ghosted lightly across his shirt and a drunken British accent whispered in his ears. "Small and cute."

"Am not!" He snapped out, spinning around unsteadily, hands flying out to capture the hands that had settled on his waist, the glass falling to the floor. Another voice whispered in his ear, "Are too" and Elijah spun around again. Billy's hotel room was starting to get increasingly blurry and he soon found that trying to identify who was who by the accent was almost impossible while drunk. And he needed another drink.

The mini-bar in Billy's room was starting to look a bit empty. With a sigh Billy lay on the bed and tipped the last small bottle of whiskey upside down, watching the last drop fall out and land on Dominic's face. Dom spluttered and wiped at his face. "No more alky?"

"No more alky," echoed Billy, pouting slightly.

The bed bounced as Elijah threw himself on top of the pile, causing a 'oof' to come from the heap that was Orlando. "You know something?" Elijah said, wiggling his way between Dominic and Orlando's warm bodies, "The Oscars sucked without you guys. I missed you. I had to sit next to Gwyneth Paltrow!"

They withdrew in mock disgust. "Ewwww!"

"You two are how old again?" enquired Billy, from his position on the other side of Dominic.

"Right now? About seven. Maybe ten, if we lie about our age." said Dom, poking Orlando in the side and swearing when Orlando started poking him back.

Billy snorted and clambered on top of the pile. "Figured."


The next morning, the first thing they were aware of was that there was sunshine and it was bright. And also, they were hungover and naked.

Or mostly. Orlando was wearing his boxers and his shirt from the night before, but the shirt was buttoned up wrong: and for some reason Elijah, stretched out across the bottom of the bed, was wearing his trousers, despite the fact they were far too big for him. Orlando blinked slowly, rubbing a hand through his already sleep-mussed hair, causing it to stand up even further in odd little curls and spikes.

Dom groaned pathetically from where he was lying under the sheets, one arm wrapped around Billy's waist. All that could be seen of Billy was a hand and the top of his head sticking out.

With another heartfelt groan Dom wiggled his way gently into a semi-upright position and stared at the rest of the bed.

"Ah. Did we have an orgy or something?"

Elijah sat up and stretched with a wince. "Uh, maybe?"

Dom whimpered. "Um. I think. I hope I'd remember."

"If we did...I wouldn't be wearing any clothes," said Orlando

Snorting Elijah reach over the bed and smacked his shoulder. "Who says we included you?"

Orlando pulled a look of mock shock. "Of course you did, you so want me."

"Nope. Didn't include you at all. Who says we like you anyway?"

There was a moment's silence and then Orlando pounced, knocking Elijah onto his back. "You don't like me?"

"Nope. It was a hobbit only orgy."

Orlando was leaning over Elijah now, arms braced on either side of Elijah's head and his mis-buttoned shirt gaping open, showing more sleek olive skin than was healthy for this time of the morning. If there was a higher being, Elijah was praying to him. The whole 'I don't like you' protest would go straight out the window if Orlando sank down on top of him now.

"All I'm saying is, if there was an orgy, I'd have been in it."

Dom groaned and poked Orlando in the side. "You're so full of it, Orli." There was a yelp from Orlando and Elijah breathed a sigh of relief as Orli turned his attention to swiping at Dominic. Dom laughed and moved out of Orlando's reach, causing him to overbalance and land with a muffled curse on top of Elijah, who eeped. Loudly.

Orlando paused and raised an eyebrow. "So.." He moved his hip slyly, causing Elijah to half-gasp, half-whimper. Orlando ducked his head so his mouth was by Elijah's ear, lips barely touching the skin. "You don't like me, hey?"


A pillow smacked into Orlando's back and Billy growled half-heartedly. "Orli, shut up and stop molesting the ringbearer, you pervy elf. Some of us appear to have invited the cast of Riverdance in with the hangover and would like to die quietly."

With a laugh and a final subtle twist of his hips, Orlando rolled off Elijah and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Elijah sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Has anyone got the time?"

Dom twisted his head slightly and peered at the clock. "Yeah. S'ten."

Elijah promptly fell back onto the bed with a thud, causing one or two muffled groans from the other occupants. "I'm going back to sleep." He opened one eye and glared at Orlando. "And don't disturb me."

Orlando looked innocent. "Who, me?"

"Yes, you."

Orlando may have looked innocent but the effect was ruined by the hand sneaking towards Elijah's ribs. A hand that was smacked as soon as it got within range of Elijah's "sleeping" body. With a grumble, Orlando lay back and put his hands behind his head.

"You know, we should skip the Oscars every year."

His only answer was snoring from the rest of the bed.


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