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monaboyd Feb. 27th, 2006 06:58 pm)
georgia-mason.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Feb. 27th, 2006 06:58 pm)Title : A Brutal Kind Of Love (3/?)
Author:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
georgia_mason
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: R (?) for dialogue of a sexual nature. It will get more so...hmm.
Summary : Dom goes to Glasgow to try and build bridges. The journey he goes on will take him and Billy to a whole different place.
Notes: I'm still not including the argument between Evie and Dom yet because it's not relevant and I don't think anybody will care about it. *lol*
Disclaimer : This.never.happened.
(Also, this is unbeta'd - all mistakes are mine, my own!)
Author:
georgia_masonPairing: Monaboyd
Rating: R (?) for dialogue of a sexual nature. It will get more so...hmm.
Summary : Dom goes to Glasgow to try and build bridges. The journey he goes on will take him and Billy to a whole different place.
Notes: I'm still not including the argument between Evie and Dom yet because it's not relevant and I don't think anybody will care about it. *lol*
Disclaimer : This.never.happened.
(Also, this is unbeta'd - all mistakes are mine, my own!)
The night after Dom trashed his living room, he awoke to see Evie standing at the foot of the bed, just starting at him. “Hi,” he said, hoarsely. She doesn’t reply straight away, merely sighs before eventually saying, “Did you get burgled or have a tantrum?” Her cold demeanour and trying sarcasm cause Dom to wince and retort, “Evie, it’s my house, my stuff and my business. I’m not in the mood for an argument.” He sits up straight and wipes the sleep out of his eyes.
Evie moves toward his wardrobe, opens it and begins flinging clothes onto his bed, hangers and all. “Evie love, what are you doing now? You’re being a daft cow. I’m hungover and cranky so cut the bloody drama, please!” She ignores him and drags a large suitcase out from under the bed. Dom is still baffled and annoyed huffing, “Will you please tell me what’s going on? Are we going somewhere?”
She stops her movements finally to look at him and answer, “We’re not going anywhere. You are. You’re going to Scotland to sort out this crap with Billy, whatever it is. I don’t want to know about it, I just want it fixed. ‘Cause you and I can’t go on while the fight does. We can’t move forward with you the way you are. It’s not up for discussion. It’s an ultimatum.”
That night Dom found himself on a plane bound for Glasgow.
* * *
Standing on Billy’s doorstep, his fist shook as he balled it, ready to knock. He paused for a second, looking between the door and his fist and back again. It felt strange. He had never knocked on Billy’s door. There was never any need to. Now, however, he didn’t feel he had the right to use the key that was, by now, burning a hole in his pocket. Not anymore.
He felt like a chicken shit, trying once or twice to make his knuckles connect with the door before retracting his hand and taking another deep breath. He takes a second to remember one night, the best night of his life, when his back was pressed to the other side of this very door. Billy’s warm fingers drawing shy lines on the patch of Dom’s skin exposed between the waistband of Doms jeans and his t-shirt. Billy had just stood there, silently deliberating what to do next. How far to take it.
It had begun a little out of the blue. They had been laughing and Billy turned to Dom to find him a lot closer than he had previously thought he was. All laughter abruptly ceased and they were suddenly so close, their breaths mingled. They just stood there, looking at each other for what felt like an eternity. It wasn’t until Dom licked his lips that Billy took a step forward and Dom took a step backward and his back hit the door. They still had their eyes on each other, drinking in the sight in silence. Billy still quietly deliberating, quietly touching. It was Dom who made the decision for the them both when he lunged forward taking Billy’s soft lips with his. That was the first night Billy had ever made love with a man.
Dom was snapped out of his memory as the door swung open and Billy appeared, unshaven and bleary eyed with the announcement, “You’ve some fucking nerve turning up here.” Dom could tell that as abrupt as Billy was, he wouldn’t turn him away so he countered, “And you’ve some fucking nerve punching me in the stomach and leaving me crying on the floor. You’ve some fucking nerve leaving drunken messages on my machine which, again, leave me crying on the floor. But at least you’re consistent, eh?”
Billy blinked but allowed Dom this small victory. Afterall, his nose was so red it almost glowed from the cold and he had just flown half way across the world to perhaps make peace. Yes, Billy was angry at Dom but he was fucked if he was going to torture him, “Get the fuck in here and I’ll make you a hot whiskey before your bloody nose falls off.”
As Billy busied himself in the kitchen, Dom took a moment to take in the familiar surroundings. The place was neat. Too neat for Billy to have made it that way. Not that Billy was untidy by any means, but dusting and polishing were certainly not his thing. The tops of tables and the mantle-piece were all immaculate and it was obvious that a feminine touch had been there. Dom could only pray that that touch belonged to Margaret.
He pushed the thought from his mind and turned to look out the window at Billy’s favourite view. The fog is thick and heavy on the rolling hills outside. There is only the barest hint of traffic echoing softly and a light rain begins to patter on the window pane. Good old Scotland, he thinks, never changes. Trust Billy to find a place that gives him the best of both worlds. It’s secluded enough to give a little serenity but has Glasgow just down the road to satisfy the city boy in him. The best of both worlds, Dom reminds himself, is just how Billy likes to have his life.
When Billy returns, they drink and talk but only about work or friends. They are both desperate to keep things normal. The hours pass and the sun goes down. After a light meal and a few more drinks, things even begin to seem normal. Until, that is, Dom goes to the bathroom and returns with a child-like scowl.
Billy frowns, wondering what the problem is all of a sudden.
Dom worries his lip and says, “You’ve got tampons in your bathroom cabinet. It can’t be your time of the month yet, surely? You’re usually regular as clockwork. I can set my watch by you!” The alcohol burning in Billy’s system sends a message to his brain telling him, in no uncertain terms, that if Dom wants a fight, he’s got one. The time has come and gone for it anyway.
“What did you expect, Dom? Eh? Yeah, I came home and realised that Ali is the only one I can rely on and took her back with open arms. Her and her menstrual cycle.” And the battle of the sarcastic gits begins, “Aw, that’s nice Bills. Pity she hasn’t got a cock though eh?”
Billy’s sexual orientation has been the subject of much soul searching for him but he’d done the internal research and he thought Dom understood his findings. He’s hurt.
“How can you say that, Dom? We’ve been through this before. I’ve been to the clubs, looked at the men instead of the women and…nothing! Because it’s not men I’m attracted to. I’m…I was attracted to you. Just you.” Dom scoffs, he’s heard it all before, “So, I’m the exception to the rule then, Bills?” Billy’s on his feet now. He hates being second guessed and he hates people trying to tell him how he feels. “What rules are these, Dom? I don’t know what they are anymore and I’m sure we’ve broken them all by now, anyway.”
An interesting thing about Dom Monaghan is that he rarely hits out with his fists. His smart mouth has always been far more effective, “You can try and tell yourself what you like, Bills. The fact is that you’ve taken every inch of me inside you and it wasn’t because you’d run out of conversation.”
And Billy should be full of anger so pure you could squeeze it out of him like a damp dishcloth and bottle it. But the hot flush of arousal that comes with Dom’s low voice and choice words, is right at the fore. And there’s nothing he can do about that. It’s either fight or fuck and Billy can’t make up his mind as to which he would rather do now. He deliberates.
Evie moves toward his wardrobe, opens it and begins flinging clothes onto his bed, hangers and all. “Evie love, what are you doing now? You’re being a daft cow. I’m hungover and cranky so cut the bloody drama, please!” She ignores him and drags a large suitcase out from under the bed. Dom is still baffled and annoyed huffing, “Will you please tell me what’s going on? Are we going somewhere?”
She stops her movements finally to look at him and answer, “We’re not going anywhere. You are. You’re going to Scotland to sort out this crap with Billy, whatever it is. I don’t want to know about it, I just want it fixed. ‘Cause you and I can’t go on while the fight does. We can’t move forward with you the way you are. It’s not up for discussion. It’s an ultimatum.”
That night Dom found himself on a plane bound for Glasgow.
* * *
Standing on Billy’s doorstep, his fist shook as he balled it, ready to knock. He paused for a second, looking between the door and his fist and back again. It felt strange. He had never knocked on Billy’s door. There was never any need to. Now, however, he didn’t feel he had the right to use the key that was, by now, burning a hole in his pocket. Not anymore.
He felt like a chicken shit, trying once or twice to make his knuckles connect with the door before retracting his hand and taking another deep breath. He takes a second to remember one night, the best night of his life, when his back was pressed to the other side of this very door. Billy’s warm fingers drawing shy lines on the patch of Dom’s skin exposed between the waistband of Doms jeans and his t-shirt. Billy had just stood there, silently deliberating what to do next. How far to take it.
It had begun a little out of the blue. They had been laughing and Billy turned to Dom to find him a lot closer than he had previously thought he was. All laughter abruptly ceased and they were suddenly so close, their breaths mingled. They just stood there, looking at each other for what felt like an eternity. It wasn’t until Dom licked his lips that Billy took a step forward and Dom took a step backward and his back hit the door. They still had their eyes on each other, drinking in the sight in silence. Billy still quietly deliberating, quietly touching. It was Dom who made the decision for the them both when he lunged forward taking Billy’s soft lips with his. That was the first night Billy had ever made love with a man.
Dom was snapped out of his memory as the door swung open and Billy appeared, unshaven and bleary eyed with the announcement, “You’ve some fucking nerve turning up here.” Dom could tell that as abrupt as Billy was, he wouldn’t turn him away so he countered, “And you’ve some fucking nerve punching me in the stomach and leaving me crying on the floor. You’ve some fucking nerve leaving drunken messages on my machine which, again, leave me crying on the floor. But at least you’re consistent, eh?”
Billy blinked but allowed Dom this small victory. Afterall, his nose was so red it almost glowed from the cold and he had just flown half way across the world to perhaps make peace. Yes, Billy was angry at Dom but he was fucked if he was going to torture him, “Get the fuck in here and I’ll make you a hot whiskey before your bloody nose falls off.”
As Billy busied himself in the kitchen, Dom took a moment to take in the familiar surroundings. The place was neat. Too neat for Billy to have made it that way. Not that Billy was untidy by any means, but dusting and polishing were certainly not his thing. The tops of tables and the mantle-piece were all immaculate and it was obvious that a feminine touch had been there. Dom could only pray that that touch belonged to Margaret.
He pushed the thought from his mind and turned to look out the window at Billy’s favourite view. The fog is thick and heavy on the rolling hills outside. There is only the barest hint of traffic echoing softly and a light rain begins to patter on the window pane. Good old Scotland, he thinks, never changes. Trust Billy to find a place that gives him the best of both worlds. It’s secluded enough to give a little serenity but has Glasgow just down the road to satisfy the city boy in him. The best of both worlds, Dom reminds himself, is just how Billy likes to have his life.
When Billy returns, they drink and talk but only about work or friends. They are both desperate to keep things normal. The hours pass and the sun goes down. After a light meal and a few more drinks, things even begin to seem normal. Until, that is, Dom goes to the bathroom and returns with a child-like scowl.
Billy frowns, wondering what the problem is all of a sudden.
Dom worries his lip and says, “You’ve got tampons in your bathroom cabinet. It can’t be your time of the month yet, surely? You’re usually regular as clockwork. I can set my watch by you!” The alcohol burning in Billy’s system sends a message to his brain telling him, in no uncertain terms, that if Dom wants a fight, he’s got one. The time has come and gone for it anyway.
“What did you expect, Dom? Eh? Yeah, I came home and realised that Ali is the only one I can rely on and took her back with open arms. Her and her menstrual cycle.” And the battle of the sarcastic gits begins, “Aw, that’s nice Bills. Pity she hasn’t got a cock though eh?”
Billy’s sexual orientation has been the subject of much soul searching for him but he’d done the internal research and he thought Dom understood his findings. He’s hurt.
“How can you say that, Dom? We’ve been through this before. I’ve been to the clubs, looked at the men instead of the women and…nothing! Because it’s not men I’m attracted to. I’m…I was attracted to you. Just you.” Dom scoffs, he’s heard it all before, “So, I’m the exception to the rule then, Bills?” Billy’s on his feet now. He hates being second guessed and he hates people trying to tell him how he feels. “What rules are these, Dom? I don’t know what they are anymore and I’m sure we’ve broken them all by now, anyway.”
An interesting thing about Dom Monaghan is that he rarely hits out with his fists. His smart mouth has always been far more effective, “You can try and tell yourself what you like, Bills. The fact is that you’ve taken every inch of me inside you and it wasn’t because you’d run out of conversation.”
And Billy should be full of anger so pure you could squeeze it out of him like a damp dishcloth and bottle it. But the hot flush of arousal that comes with Dom’s low voice and choice words, is right at the fore. And there’s nothing he can do about that. It’s either fight or fuck and Billy can’t make up his mind as to which he would rather do now. He deliberates.
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I'm cheesy, predictable and boring, I know, but... Yeah, can't help...
*major blushing*
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I'm all a, bleeding, dither. No idea how to carry this on. Damn me for making Billy deliberate at all. Yeah, this is all Billy's fault really. *points finger*
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*Runs to read it* :)
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I'm excited for your story!
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"Let's not go to Camelot...'tis a silly place." *lol*
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I love love love love the pythons to death. They are the most hilarious old british guys to ever play dress up :)
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Great to meet like minded python people, like myself!
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I just wish I could see Spamalot, that would make my entire life happier :)
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I vote for an all out brawl, ending with angry sex on the floor.
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From: (Anonymous)
Damn You Dommie
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Re: Damn You Dommie