monaboyd | Mistake Number Three

Title: Mistake Number Three - 11/19
Author:

dylan_dufresne
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-14
Summary: Christmas day brings a variety of surprises, and Dom receives something unexpected.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice. *squirms* You know I ♥ it.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality.
A/N: And surprise . . . Warning of angst. Beta'd by

frojane. Thanks sweetie. You’re one in a million. Sorry this is late. My net connection was down and I *just* got it back. *crosses fingers*
Previous Parts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Billy awakens on Christmas morning to delicious aromas wafting down the hall from the kitchen. He’d fallen asleep after a particularly intense wank in bed, his hoarse moans of pleasure muffled by a convenient pillow. The obvious choice had been to take a shower, where the pounding water would’ve offered some protection, but Billy couldn’t bear to wash the scent of Dom off his skin.

After what had happened earlier, while shopping for groceries, Dom’s cologne clung to Billy’s clothes, hair and skin, not to mention the memory of Dom’s warm, lithe body pressed against him. Billy couldn’t blame Dom for his nearly painful arousal, as he’d only done what Billy asked. Not long after dinner, Dom had claimed to be exhausted and said goodnight, and Billy didn’t argue with him, grateful that the early evening meant that he’d be able to find relief for the hard ache in his trousers.

Running his hands through his wild, ginger hair, Billy pulls on his robe before opening the door and walking down the hall to the kitchen to investigate. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he finds in the kitchen.

Unaware that he has an audience now, Dom grabs a pair of striped pot holders before bending over and reaching into the oven to carefully pull out a pie, the crust baked to a perfect, golden brown. Inhaling the delicious smell and smiling in satisfaction, Dom sets it on the countertop next to the sink to cool. Several pots are on the cooker, filled with a variety of bubbling substances. A half empty bowl of stuffing rests next to a roasting pan, where a partially stuffed turkey patiently waits to be seasoned and placed in the oven to roast. The remaining countertops are covered in dirty dishes and various smudges of ingredients in several interesting textures, and absolutely everything has a light dusting of flour, even the floor. In his whole life, Billy’s never seen such a mess.

“Exactly what time did you get up this morning?” Billy asks mildly as Dom closes the oven door.

Whirling around, Dom gasps in surprise as he falls back against the sink.

“Fuck Billy! Don’t scare me like that,” he cries out, hand slapping against his chest, causing a small cloud of flour to fill the air in front of him.

“Sorry.”

Biting down on his lower lip, Billy tries to keep from laughing, but the sight in front of him is just too amusing for words. Dark blonde hair tousled about in a chaotic, yet sensual mess, Dom is barefoot, wearing an apron streaked with what Billy thinks is cranberries at his belly, and there is a smudge of flour across the left side of his face. Cheeks flushed from the heat in the kitchen, Dom has never looked more adorably kissable.

“What’s so funny?” Dom asks, giving Billy a strange look as he moves closer to Dom.

“Hold still. You’ve got something on your face.” Giving Dom a warm smile, Billy reaches out and gently brushes the flour off his rosy cheek.

Breath catching at Billy’s proximity and his tender touch, Dom blushes. “Thanks.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Dom smiles. “Merry Christmas, Billy.”

“You know, I could’ve helped you,” Billy says, gesturing to the chaos around them. “I was expecting that we’d make dinner together. Why didn’t you tell me you were getting up early to do this?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Dom confesses, suddenly nervous. “I thought you’d sleep a little later. I’ll have all this cleaned up right away. I know it’s a mess. I’m sorry.”

“Dom, relax,” Billy soothes. “I’m just trying to figure out why you thought you had to do all this by yourself.”

“You helped me last night, and I wanted to say thank you,” Dom says softly. “When I saw him, I just panicked and froze, and then you-”

“Shhh. It’s alright, Dom,” Billy replies, laying a hand on Dom’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I know, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“And you have. Several times now,” Billy tells him, giving Dom a reassuring smile. “Give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll help you with this.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“Dom-”

“I’m almost done, and I’m already dirty,” Dom adds insistently. “Go take a shower, get dressed, and by the time you get back, it’ll be all gone. Oh, and breakfast will be ready.”

“Dom, you don’t have to do this.”

“Please?” Dom begs, giving Billy his best puppy dog eyes and thrusting out his pouty lower lip.

Sighing heavily, Billy gives in. “Alright, but I’m doing the dishes tonight.”

“Hmm.”

Deciding that’s as close to a yes as he’s going to get out of Dom, Billy decides to use the time to his advantage. After arranging one of Dom’s Christmas presents, Billy has a hot shower, including a fast wank, shaving and dressing in record time. Reappearing in the kitchen, Billy is shocked to discover that the tornado of chaos that he’d seen before has now vanished. Turkey now stuffed and in the oven, the counters and floor have been wiped thoroughly, the dishes are on the drying rack, and an apron-free Dom is setting a steaming hot bowl of porridge on the table.

“Perfect timing,” Dom says, walking back over to the counter to pick up two mugs of tea.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Billy asks, nodding his thanks, taking the proffered mug. “And clean up?”

Sitting down, Dom gnaws on his lower lip for a moment. “My Mum taught me.”

“Dom-”

“It’s okay,” Dom interrupts quietly. “I’m doing better with it. I even posted the letter.”

Eyes widening with surprise, Billy asks, “When?”

“A few days ago.”

Billy smiles softly. “It’ll be a Christmas present. The best one.”

“I hope so,” Dom replies, returning Billy’s smile.

“Where’s your breakfast?” Billy asks, noticing that there is nothing in front of Dom.

“Oh, I’ve been nibbling and taste testing all morning,” Dom explains, waving off Billy’s concern. “I’m not hungry, trust me.”

Warily, Billy accepts Dom’s answer and digs into his porridge.

“I’m going let you eat and I’m going to go take a shower,” Dom decides. “I’ll be back.”

Billy opens his mouth to protest, but Dom is already halfway down the hall. Realizing that Dom is about to discover one of his Christmas presents, Billy abruptly shuts his mouth and returns his attention to his porridge, waiting for Dom’s reaction. He doesn’t have to wait long.

“Billy Boyd!”

Plastering on his best innocent smile, Billy watches Dom hurry back into the kitchen, an armload of blue in front of him.

“What is this?” Dom demands, mouth hanging open in shock.

“It’s called a robe,” Billy replies matter of factly. “You didn’t have one. You had to take clean clothes into the loo every time you took a shower. Now you don’t have to.”

“It’s monogrammed,” Dom adds softly, fingertip tracing the cursive ‘D’ on the left chest pocket.

“Yes it is,” Billy agrees “And it’s nonreturnable.”

“Billy-”

“Merry Christmas,” Billy interrupts with a smile. “Now go clean up.”

Giving Dom a look that says he means business, Billy then picks up his mug of tea. Shaking his head in disbelief, Dom walks back into the loo, taking a moment to rub his cheek against the soft material. Hanging it on the back of the door, he strips down for a shower, not wanting to separated from Billy any longer than is absolutely necessary. He can’t wait to use his present.

Once he is clean and dressed, Dom finds Billy in the living room, plugging in the lights to their modest Christmas tree that they’d decorated together. There is a fire is burning merrily in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth and golden light.

“Hey,” Dom says as he sits down on the couch, feet tucked underneath him.

“Hey.”

“I, uh, I got you something,” Dom adds, lifting up the box in his lap and nervously offering to Billy. “Merry Christmas.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Billy replies as he sits down on the couch beside Dom, the box sliding onto his lap.

“I know. I wanted to.”

Carefully removing the paper and lifting the lid, Billy smiles gently.

“It’s beautiful, Dom. Thank you,” he says, stroking the deep green sweater laying in the box. “Really, it’s lovely.”

“Keep digging,” Dom instructs with a smile.

Lifting up the sweater, Billy’s jaw drops.

“Where did you find this?” he asks, taking the book of guitar songs in both hands, looking up at Dom in shock.

“I was out one day and I just happened to see it, so I picked it up for you. You’ve mentioned it to me a few times, so I figured it was pretty important to you.”

“It’s out of print,” Billy says softly, gazing at the book and petting the cover. “I can’t believe you found it. It must have been so expensive, Dom.”

“You don’t really expect me to tell you how much I paid for it, do you?” Dom asks with a grin.

Reaching over to the coffee table, Billy lays down the book and sweater, picking up the remote to the stereo and handing it to Dom.

“Press play.”

Arching an eyebrow in confusion, Dom does as instructed, his eyes widening when the opening strains of ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ fills the air. Grinning, Billy reaches under the couch and produces a CD box set.

“For you,” he says simply, offering it to Dom.

“Billy, this is too much,” Dom protests.

“You really thought you’d only get one present?” Billy asks in disbelief. “I know how much you love The Beatles.”

Long, elegant fingers sliding over the cover, almost caressing, Dom looks up at Billy, eyes suspiciously bright. “Thank you. It’s wonderful.”

“You’re welcome.” Looking closer at Dom, Billy frowns. “You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

“No,” Dom admits, ducking his head.

“Bad dreams?”

Dom sighs, sagging into the back of the couch a wee bit. “Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Billy suggests. “I can wake you up in a hour or so.”

Not wanting to expel the energy to argue, Dom nods. “You know what? That’s not a bad plan.”

Smiling at Dom fondly, Billy picks up his empty mug and takes it into the kitchen. When he returns with a fresh cup of sweetened tea, he’s surprised to discover Dom stretched out on his stomach on the couch, under a light blanket, well on his way to falling asleep. Settling into the chair next to the couch, Billy picks up the guitar book and quietly flips through it, listening to The Beatles cd playing softly in the background and the crackling fire. Billy finds himself looking over at Dom often, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, wishing he could lay down beside him, wrap Dom up in his arms and trace the sexy pout of Dom’s lower lip with his pointy tongue. It doesn’t surprise Billy in the least that Dom is lovely to look at while he sleeps.

In the end, Dom awakens on his own, the aromas of the roasting turkey reminding him of the time. Gently refusing Billy’s help for the second time that day, Dom is working on the finishing touches for their meal when he hears the plucking and strumming of guitar strings. Turning down the heat under the vegetables and moving the gravy off the cooker entirely, Dom walks over to the doorway, leaning against the wall to take in the beautiful sight before him.

Billy has no idea that Dom is watching him as he plays, slowly at first, and then faster, singing along, under his breath. He’s lost in the moment, enjoying himself as he feels his body sway in the familiar rhythm. He’s been so busy with the shop, it’s been too long since he played, and he’s missed it. Catching something out of the corner of his eye, Billy looks over and realizes that Dom is gazing at him, a soft and intimate expression on his face. Billy’s hands freeze on his guitar, and the room falls silent.

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing.”

“What?” Billy asks again when Dom doesn’t look away, continuing to look at him.

“I got my birthday wish, hearing you play, ” Dom replies quietly, cheeks pinking a little. “Oh, and dinner’s almost ready.”

Before Billy can reply, Dom is walking back into the kitchen, long fingers toying with the dark blonde hair at the nape of his neck.

* * * * *

Over an hour later, dinner and dessert has been consumed, and Dom is stretched out on the floor in front of the fire, his empty glass of wine sitting on the coffee table. Sprawled comfortably on the couch, Billy tips his wine glass to one side and then the other, watching the pale gold liquid slosh back and forth. It’s his third glass of the evening. Looking over at Dom, he smiles.

“You look very satisfied with yourself,” he comments.

“I wanted it to be good meal, and I think it turned out rather well,” Dom replies with a grin, turning his head and meeting Billy’s gaze.

“Dom, it was incredible. You even made apple pie,” Billy says, shaking his head in amazement. “Without cinnamon.”

Dom shrugs noncommittally. “You hate cinnamon.”

“I know. And you know. And you remembered.” Tipping back his glass, Billy downs the last of the sparkling wine. “I can’t believe you remembered something I told you months ago.”

“It was the night we met,” Dom says softly, so low that Billy doesn’t hear him.

“You’re a brilliant cook, Dom.”

“Thank you.”

A comfortable lull in conversation falls over the room, Dom staring at the flames in the fireplace. Suddenly rolling over so he’s facing Billy, Dom slides his wine glass to the side on the coffee table so their eyes can meet.

“Can I ask you something?” Dom inquires.

“Sure.”

“How did you and Viggo meet?”

Eyes widening, Billy swallows hard. “Oh. Uh, well-”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me,” Dom interrupts, waving a hand and averting his eyes.

“No, it’s alright. You’re just the first to ask in a long time,” Billy explains. “And it’s a wee bit complicated.”

“Never mind, then. It’s okay.”

“Dom, it’s fine.”

“Really?” Dom asks, still unsure.

“Did you know that Viggo is also a photographer?” Billy asks. “He specializes in black and white.”

“The photos at the clinic,” Dom recalls, thinking back to the pictures hanging on the wall in the examining room. “Are those his?”

“Yeah. He and I were at the same uni together, and he took photos to help pay for his tuition,” Billy explains. “Going to medical school isn’t cheap.”

“I can imagine.”

“That’s why I met him,” Billy says, pausing to take a deep breath and calm the butterflies in his stomach. “I was looking to hire a photographer. To take pictures. For a wedding. My wedding.”

Dom’s jaw drops. “Huh?” Scrambling to sit up, Dom can only stare in shock. “You were married?”

“No, but I was engaged for a while. To a girl. Her name was Ali.”

“So, you’re bi?” Dom asks slowly, arching an eyebrow.

“No.” Billy tries to smile, starting to regret that last glass of wine as it is loosening his tongue far more that he’d like. “I was as straight as a ruler.”

“You were straight?” Dom asks in disbelief.

“Until that day, yes.”

“Wow. So what happened?”

Shifting a little, Billy exhales slowly, letting himself fall into the pleasant memory. “We were supposed to drop by and look at Viggo’s portfolio together, but at the last minute, Ali had a dance rehearsal and couldn’t go. Ali’s dream was to become a ballerina, dance the lead role to Swan Lake. She told me to take a look and tell her what I thought. I was supposed to be there fifteen, twenty minutes. A couple of hours later, I was still there, and I didn’t want to leave.”

Shifting, Dom hugs his knees to his chest, head tilted to one side as he listens intently.

“Viggo was so easy to talk to, and I felt comfortable, even though I was completely off balance. My head was spinning with everything I was feeling, and how good it felt,” Billy admits with a soft smile. “Another hour later, he was laying me out on the couch, fully dressed, and taking my picture. When I finally left, it was really late. I’d spent most of the day there. At the door, I grabbed his shirt, looked up at him and I asked him to kiss me, but he just shook his head and said that he didn’t share with others.”

Swallowing hard, Billy sits up, fingers lacing together, now falling into the unpleasant memories. “I couldn’t sleep that night. I knew I had to tell Ali what had happened, and I knew it was going to hurt her. Nothing had happened with Viggo, physically, but that didn’t matter to me. I’d been unfaithful in my heart to the woman I wanted to marry. Understand that I’d never cheated on anyone in my whole life.” Billy’s breath catches, his eyes unusually bright. “I was always faithful. I believed and still believe that a relationship has only two people in it, and trust means everything.”

Staying absolutely still as to not interrupt Billy, Dom’s breath catches at the last sentence and his eyes darken.

“God, I felt so fecking guilty, because suddenly I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe I was making a huge mistake, asking her to marry me.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Billy sighs. “For the first time in my life, I was attracted to a man, and to my surprise, I was okay with that. I wanted Viggo in a way that I’d never wanted Ali. Ever. It wasn’t about sex, but something else. Something I’d never experienced before. In one afternoon, everything I thought I knew about myself got turned sideways and upside down.”

“Billy,” Dom says softly. “You don’t have to-”

“No, it’s okay,” Billy interrupts, meeting Dom’s eyes intensely. “It’s so little compared to what you’ve shared with me. The trust you’ve given me. I want to tell you this.”

Dom’s breath catches again, though he covers it well. “Alright.”

“I showed up at Ali’s flat early the next morning and told her everything. She was justifiably furious with me. She screamed. Cried. Called me all sorts of horrible names. Finally, she slapped me, threw the ring in my face and kicked me out. After three years together, it was over.” Rubbing his cheek where Ali had hit him, Billy smiles wryly. “All things considered, I thought she took it pretty well. Six months later Ali forgave me, and even wished me happiness. She was the last girl I was ever with.”

“How old were you?” Dom asks quietly.

“Ali was nineteen, I was almost twenty-one.”

“How long were you and Viggo together?”

“Almost two years,” Billy replies. “Until he finished uni and headed off to medical school.”

“And you stayed friends.”

“Viggo helped me find who I really was,” Billy explains fondly, meeting Dom’s gaze. “How to be honest with myself and discover what I really wanted to do with my life. He was so supportive, encouraging me to follow my dream and open the book shop.”

“Sounds perfect,” Dom says. “Why didn’t you stay together?”

“Everything was great, except for one, rather important thing.”

“What’s that?” Dom asks quietly.

The light in Billy’s eyes disappears. “One day Viggo said we couldn’t be a couple anymore. He wanted to end it.”

Dom’s jaw drops. “What?”

“I loved Viggo. I still love him, and I think a part of me will always love him,” Billy says softly, his eyes glistening. “But I wasn’t in love with him. And he knew the difference.”

“Because he was in love with you,” Dom finishes gently, understanding what Billy isn’t saying.

“Yes, he was.” Billy exhales heavily and looks up at the ceiling as his eyes fill with tears. “I never meant to hurt him, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did. It took me a long time before I really understood why he broke it off, and then I felt so fecking guilty. I know he would want me to forgive myself, but it’s difficult. Knowing that you caused someone you care about that kind of pain is not easy to live with.”

Breaking off with a harsh intake of breath, Billy looks down at the floor, his shoulders trembling.

“Do you want some scotch?” Dom asks, his own voice wavering. “I could really use some right now.”

“Yeah,” Billy admits with a watery smile as he brushes at his damp eyes. “Me too.”

* * * * *

Two days later, Mark is finishing up with a customer who is exchanging a Christmas gift when the phone rings. Since Billy is out running an errand and Dom is with a young couple in the travel book section, Mark answers it. A moment later, he covers the mouthpiece and gestures to Dom.

“It’s for you.”

Excusing himself, Dom and Mark switch places, Dom smiling as he brings the cordless phone to his ear.

“This is Dom,” he says cheerfully.

When the person on the other end of the line speaks, Dom’s blue-grey eyes widen and he pales visibly. Turning on his heel, he quickly ducks into Billy’s office and closes the door. When Dom reappears ten minutes later, his eyes are overly bright, a fine layer of sweat is dotting his brow, and his hands are clenched in tight fights in the front pockets of his crisply pressed trousers.

“Dom?” Marks asks cautiously, not missing the change in Dom’s demeanor. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Dom replies distractedly, looking around the shop, wordlessly looking for Billy.

“He’s not back yet,” Mark tells him softly, having learned to read Dom a wee bit over the last two months.

“Uh, I’m just going to finish up over there,” Dom says, nodding at a section where he’d been working earlier that day. “My shift is almost over.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Mark leaves Dom alone, not knowing what else to do, even though he realizes that something is very wrong. When he realizes that Dom isn’t paying any attention to him, Mark tries calling Billy’s mobile, but it appears to be off as the calls continually go directly to voicemail.

It’s nearly six o’clock when Billy finally returns to the shop, where Mark is waiting and pacing nervously. Billy is barely through the doorway when Mark pounces on him.

“Where have you been?” he demands.

“I was at the bank and it took longer than expected,” Billy replies, giving Mark an odd look. “What’s going on?”

“I’m pretty sure I fucked up,” Mark admits, eyes downcast. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

“What? How?” Billy asks, slipping off his jacket.

“Dom got a phone call. I didn’t even think, I just handed it to him,” Mark explains, sighing heavily. “I should’ve taken a message, but-”

“Who was it?”

Mark shrugs. “I don’t know. Female, I think.”

“Where’s Dom now?” Billy asks, looking around and then up at the ceiling.

“Upstairs, last I heard. He was moving around for quite a while, pacing, but he’s been quiet for about an hour.”

“Lock up for me?” Billy requests as he nearly runs across the room, heading for the back stairs. He doesn’t wait for Mark’s reply.

Almost throwing open the door at the top of the stairs, Billy sighs with relief when he can hear a Beatles cd playing on the stereo, and pots and pans being moved about in the kitchen. Shrugging out of his jack and dropping it on the couch, Billy follows the sound, wondering what Dom’s state of mind is. When Billy reaches the doorway of the kitchen and sees Dom, his heart sinks. The tension is evident in Dom’s slim shoulders, and he is once again wearing his protective blanket in the form of his old blue jeans that are too big and a faded black t-shirt that Billy recalls Dom wearing the night they met.

“Dom?”

“Hey, good timing. Dinner’s almost ready,” he says brightly, not looking over at Billy.

“Who was on the phone?” Billy asks gently, walking further into the room, not fooled for a moment.

Dom freezes, breath catching. “My mum,” he replies finally. “She got my letter today. I gave her the number for the shop.”

Inhaling sharply, Billy nods. “How did it-”

“Could I take some time off next week?” Dom interrupts. “Just a few days?”

“Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

“Thanks.”

Watching Dom closely as he stirs a pot filled with some sort of cream sauce, Billy realizes that Dom’s trying to hide the fact that his hands are shaking. “Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

“My dad is sick,” Dom chokes out quietly, hand tightening around the wooden spoon until his knuckles turn white. “He’s in the hospital. I need to go see him.”

“Why wait until next week?” Billy asks, brow furrowing in confusion.

“I paid my tuition for school this morning,” Dom explains, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t afford the bus ticket until I get paid again.”

“Bus ticket?” Billy repeats incredulously. Grabbing Dom’s arm, Billy takes the spoon out of his hand and turns Dom around so they’re face to face. “Absolutely not.”

“What?”

Glancing down at his watch, Billy grimaces. “Okay, it’s too late to leave tonight. You’ll pack, get a good night’s sleep, and leave bright and early in the morning.”

“Billy-”

“And you’ll take my car,” Billy finishes firmly.

“I can’t do that,” Dom protests.

“Yes, you can,” Billy argues. “I want you to.”

“Billy-”

“Dom, I lost both of my parents before I was sixteen years old,” Billy fires back, green eyes bright. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give for one more day with them. You are not waiting. Please, take my car. Don’t fight me on this.”

His own eyes glistening, Dom finally nods. “Okay.”

“And I’m offering to come with you, if you want. For support.”

“You’d do that for me?” Dom asks, unable to hide his surprise.

“I’m your best mate, aren’t I?” Billy asks with a tentative smile.

The briefest of tiny smiles graces Dom’s lips. “Thank you, Billy, but they haven’t seen me in almost four years. I think I should go alone.”

“Alright then.” Billy nods firmly. “You finish up making dinner, and I’m going to get a suitcase out of my closet for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Squeezing Dom’s shoulder, Billy smiles gently. “It’ll be alright, Dom.”

Unsure as their eyes lock, Dom exhales heavily. “I hope so.”

* * * * *

After a breakfast of porridge and tea, Billy sends Dom off in his car with a nutritious, packed lunch, and requests that Dom call him when he arrives safely in Manchester. With a fast, tight hug, Dom agrees and then backs the car out of the driveway, waving one last time before disappearing around the corner. It’s over two hours later that Dom discovers Billy’s mobile in his lunch sack, with a note asking Dom to call whenever he needs to talk. That makes Dom smile and eases the butterflies fluttering nervously in his belly as he nibbles on a polished, red apple.

The winter conditions slow Dom’s travels, and it takes over three and a half hours of careful driving before he pulls to the curb in front of the modest house that was his childhood home. For a fleeting moment, Dom considers just turning around and returning to the book shop, but something tells him that Billy would insist that he come right back. The thought of his beloved father then fills Dom’s mind, Billy’s pain of losing his own parents, and the decision is made.

Gloved fingers clutching the handle of the suitcase Billy loaned him, Dom makes his way up the narrow pathway to the front door, gnawing nervously on his lower lip. Silently willing his hands to stop shaking, Dom pulls his shoulders back, takes a deep breath, and rings the bell. After what feels like an eternity, the door finally opens, warm air rushing out to wash over Dom’s rosy cheeks.

“Hello Mum.”

* * * * *

Checking his wristwatch for what feels like the hundredth time, Billy resumes staring at the phone. It’s been nearly eight hours, and still no call from Dom. Shifting in his chair, Billy returns his attention to the pile of papers that he’s been trying to deal with all afternoon. Giving up, Billy shoves the files to one side and reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of scotch and a small glass. He’s unscrewing the cap when the phone suddenly rings. Billy nearly drops the bottle, snatching up the receiver with his other hand before the first ring ends.

“Hello?”

“Billy?” Dom says softly, unsteady and vulnerable.

Sighing with relief, Billy leans back in his chair. “Dom. How are you?”

“Talk to me. Please?” Dom requests quietly. “Let me hear your voice?”

“Of course. I’m so glad you called,” Billy replies gently, wondering what has happened. “I take it the drive was alright and you arrived safely?”

“I made my Mum cry,” Dom whispers. “She opened the door, I said hello, and she started crying.”

Billy’s breath catches at the pain in the younger man’s voice. “Oh Dom.”

“And I think she cracked my ribs, she squeezed me so tight,” Dom adds with a wince. “She didn’t let go for over an hour.”

“She was happy to see you,” Billy says tenderly with a soft smile. “I bet she’s missed you a lot.”

“Yeah. I’ll say.”

“How’s your dad?” Billy asks, changing the subject.

“Better. The doctor has him on a new medication and it seems to be working, though it makes him really tired,” Dom replies. “He was asleep when Mum and I got to the hospital. Visiting hours are really short and they were almost over when he finally woke up.”

“So you talked to him?”

“He said two words to me,” Dom whispers, voice cracking. “Just two words.”

“What did he say?” Billy asks quietly, confused and afraid because of Dom’s response.

“My boy,” Dom gasps, on the edge of losing control of his emotions. “My boy.”

“Dom-” Billy whispers, his eyes filling.

“And then he hugged me. He didn’t let go of my hands until the nurse kicked me out, but I promised him that I’ll be back tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” Dom finishes, sniffling.

“Where are you, right now?”

“In my bedroom at home. They didn’t change anything while I was gone. Can you believe it?” Dom asks. “Not one, single thing.”

“And your Mum?”

“In her room, resting,” Dom says softly. “She’s been through a lot today.”

“So have you,” Billy comments thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling.”

“I am kinda tired,” Dom admits shakily. “And I’d forgotten how comfortable my bed is.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Billy suggests. “I’m sure your Mum will want to talk to you when she gets up.”

“Can I call you tomorrow?” Dom asks tentatively.

“Of course, Dom. Day or night.” Billy sighs softly. “Whatever you need. I’m always here.”

“I better go,” Dom says reluctantly. “Let you get back to work.”

“Alright. Talk to you soon,” Billy says with a gentle smile. “Sleep well."

“You too.”

Hanging up the phone, Billy sits back in his chair, exhaling heavily as fear fills his thoughts. He’s relieved beyond words that Dom has been welcomed with open arms. Now there is a new question troubling him.

What happens if Dom decides that he wants to stay in Manchester?

* * * * *

Chapter 12

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