monaboyd | Fatherhood, Football, and Other Contact Sports

Title: Fatherhood, Football, and Other Contact Sports - 6/16
Author:

dylan_dufresne
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-14, maybe.
Summary: Misunderstandings, a football match, aggravations, and a medical emergency.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice. Many thanks to

frojane, for the positively faboo beta. Credit for the banner goes to the very talented

loki_girl. Thank you so much.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. This is my imagination at work.
A/N: As promised, posting is resuming. Thank you so much for you patience and all the support over the past week. It means a great deal to me. Okay, enough of my blathering. Onto the fic . . .
Previous Parts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Chapter 6 - Disappointments & Disruptions

Billy falls in a familiar pattern of working at the clinic, then stopping by the Rangers practice field in Murraypark each evening to pick up Cameron. As agreed, Dom keeps his distance for the next several weeks, and although it admittedly bothers him a great deal, Billy knows he’s made the right decision. Time will help cool the fire in his veins whenever Dom enters his mind or his vision.

Planning a private party at home to celebrate completing the first month at his new job, Billy makes a quick stop at the market to purchase the ingredients for spaghetti and meatballs. He’s chosen to make that specific meal tonight because it’s Cameron’s favorite.

“Dad! Look what Dom gave me,” Cameron greets him, waving his prize over his head like a banner as he runs up to Billy, nearly vibrating with excitement. “They’re for the next match. Half way back in the main stand, where the players friends sit, because you can see everything from there!”

Unfortunately, Billy has known that he wouldn’t be able to ignore the upcoming match, telling himself repeatedly that it’s only because he’s very concerned about Dom’s knee. It’s only a professional interest, nothing more. He’s told himself, over and over again, but at no time has it sounded the least bit convincing, even to his own ears. Weeks apart, and Billy’s no closer to finding any peace with his decision.

Billy forces a smile for his son’s benefit. “That’s wonderful. I hope you said thank you.”

As he climbs into the passenger seat of the car, Cameron gives Billy a severe look that reminds him uncomfortably of Abby. “Of course I did. What do you think I am, a complete git?”

Shaking his head, Billy smiles warmly, recognizing Dom’s influence on Cameron’s vocabulary. “Certainly not. How could such a intelligent man as myself have a less than brilliant son?” Then Billy delicately attempts to minimize the bond that is developing between Dom and his son. “You know, Cobby, I wouldn’t expect Dom to give us tickets to all his matches here in Glasgow.”

Green eyes identical to his own observe Billy questioningly. “Why not? He’s my best mate. And I’m taking great care of Griffin.”

Cameron has certainly done that, Billy has to admit. Over the last month Billy’s grown used to having the energetic, friendly animal almost constantly underfoot. On the first visit, Billy had locked Merry in the bedroom, but the feline’s strident complaints only seemed to increase the animosity between the two animals. Finally, Billy had given up, and to his amazement, after an initial few moments of mistrust, the two had settled into a truce. At times, watching his cat bat playfully at the floppy, milk chocolate colored ears of the Springer Spaniel, Billy can almost imagine they’ve begun to like each other.

“Well, it’s possible he might want to give his tickets to someone else for the next match,” Billy suggests carefully. “We don’t want to take up too much of Dom’s time.”

“But I don’t take up too much of his time,” Cameron protests as he pulls his seat belt across his chest and buckles it before Billy can remind him. “Besides, he likes kids. He’s got a brother.”

“He does?”

Billy isn’t particularly surprised at the revelation, as Dom’s behavior with Cameron has always seemed almost too casual for a single man. Come to think of it, a sibling only makes sense.

“Yeah. Matt. Dom’s the youngest.”

Billy wonders just how his son has discovered this fact. “When did he tell you that?”

Shrugging, Cameron looks out the car window, his attention focused on a tree at the edge of the parking lot. “I dunno. We just talk.” Glancing back, Cameron’s young, yet somehow wise eyes are filled with uncertainty and more than a hint of guilt. “I was telling him how lonely it gets sometimes, that’s all.”

“Oh, Cobby,” Billy murmurs gently, reaching over and tousling Cameron’s hair affectionately. “I suppose it does. But you’re making friends and it’s getting better, yeah?”

“Yeah, but having mates isn’t the same as brothers or sisters,” Cameron points out with the straightforward logic of a seven year old. “How come I don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

Because your mother was upset enough about me getting her pregnant with you, Billy thinks to himself, his heart aching as he recalls the familiar dream of having more children. “We’ve discussed this before, Cobby,” he replies calmly. “Your mum and I were both in medical school when you were born. We had our internships and residencies . . . we just didn’t think we could give enough time to two children.”

“But I would’ve helped,” Cameron protests, wrinkling his small nose.

Smiling at the sober sincerity in Cameron’s voice, Billy reaches over and squeezes his small, bare knee. Cameron’s wearing denim shorts this afternoon, along with a Rangers t-shirt Dom gave him, his pale skin covered with the same smattering of freckles that Billy had as a lad. Both of them could live in a tropical paradise for the rest of their lives and most likely still have milky-white skin. It’s just one more thing on a long list that they have in common. Sighing to himself, Billy is certain that the women that Dom dates probably have tans the color of dark, golden honey. He can’t compete with that, even if he wanted to. Which I don’t, Billy reminds himself firmly, ignoring the surge of heat in his belly at the mere thought of Dom’s bare skin.

Returning to the conversation, Billy focuses on Cameron’s face. “I know you’d be a big help, Cameron. But it’s a moot point now. I’m not married anymore, so you’re going to have to settle for Merry and me.”

“What about you and Dom?”

Eyes flashing wide, Billy swallows hard. “Pardon?”

At the heartfelt expression on his son’s face, Billy realizes that Cameron is completely serious and has apparently been giving the matter a great deal of thought. Despite his young age, Cameron has an old soul, a sharp, logical mind that goes straight to the heart of a problem quickly, another thing he has in common with his father. Sometimes Billy wonders if Cameron inherited any of his mother’s attributes.

The idea of Cameron’s genetic similarity to Abby causes an all too familiar little spiral of fear to crawl up Billy’s spine as the thought of losing Cameron to his often cruel, uncaring mother causes a tight knot to form in his belly. I won’t think about that, he vows. Not tonight. In fact, if the phone rings, I won’t even answer it.

Cameron’s sweet voice then breaks into Billy’s troubled thoughts. “It’s simple, Dad,” he explains patiently, as if instructing a rather daft toddler. “Look, you like kids, yeah?”

“I like you.”

“And Dom likes kids. But neither of you is married. So if you two moved in together, your problems would be solved.” Cameron nods emphatically, inordinately pleased with his reasoning. “You’d have somebody, I’d have a stay at home dad, Dom would have a son and then you two could adopt so I could have a brother or sister.”

Then Cameron adds what he obviously considers to be the clincher. “And think of the money you’d both save, only needing one house. We could sell ours and move in with Dom.”

“But I really like our house, Cobby,” Billy points out. “And I thought you did, too.”

“Oh yeah, it’s a great house, Dad,” Cameron says, rushing to reassure Billy. “But it has lots of stairs.”

“May I point out that’s one of the things you requested?” Billy inquires dryly, remembering how much that particular request had taken to fulfill, especially combined with a bedroom with a view of a back garden pool, walking distance to a good school and a large tree in the corner. Amazingly enough, Billy had managed to find everything, except the tree, and had been quite proud of the accomplishment. “I seem to recall you saying something about Merry being able to chase a ball down them. How important that was.”

“Yeah, well, that’s okay for just us, but stairs would be hard on Dom’s bad knee,” Cameron points out, matter of factly. “So, I think we should move into his house instead.”

“Cobby, why do you think Dom and I would even want to live together?” Billy asks carefully, turning in his seat and tilting his head to one side, frowning in thought and confusion.

“Well, you really like each other,” Cameron replies, his small brow copying Billy’s exactly. “I mean, you kiss each other. Hug each other.”

Suddenly very glad that he’s not driving down the road at this particular moment, Billy stares at Cameron, his green eyes wide with shock. “When did you see us kiss?” His stomach lurches and twists, remembering just how out of control things had gotten that night in the kitchen. Dom’s hands had been all over him, exploring his naked body. And his own small hands, frantically tearing open Dom’s jeans before laying him out flat, right there on the table. They had been ravenous in their exploration, hands sliding over each others bared flesh. If Dom hadn’t been injured, Billy has no doubt that they would’ve had sex right there on the table that night. Oh Christ. If Cameron saw that . . .

“That first night, when we had pizza,” Cameron explains, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and gnawing nervously on his lower lip for a moment. “After you went back downstairs, I got out of bed to open the window a wee bit, and when I looked down, I saw you and Dom by the pool. Dom hugged you, you hugged him back, and then you kissed for a long time.”

“Cobby-”

“I don’t remember seeing you and mum kiss like that,” Cameron adds softly. “Ever. And I remember a lot.”

His heart breaking and belly churning painfully, Billy curses himself for creating false hope for his young son. Thanks to his reckless, bad decisions, losing control and allowing his lustful urges to overtake him temporarily, now Billy has to crush the evidently perfect dream of a happy family that Cameron has created in his mind. For years now, Billy’s done all he can to shield Cameron, but it seems that he’s has seen it all along, the constant distance between his parents, the distinct lack of any affection.

“Cobby, it’s not like that between Dom and I. It was just that one time,” Billy says gently, not quite sure how to explain the things that would be appropriate for Cameron at his age. Frankly, he’s counted on having a couple more years to figure out how to make Cameron understand the difference between gay and straight. Explaining sex between a man and a woman and about babies to Cameron, nearly eight months ago now, when he’d asked about it, was difficult enough. “We’re just friends and neighbors, and I’m his doctor.”

“But, Dad, I see how you look at each other,” Cameron presses, now staring intently at the toes of his small, scuffed trainers, hands fidgeting in his lap. “You think I don’t notice how Dom always finds a way to stand close to you? When you think I’m not looking, or that I’m not around, you touch. Dom touches you, and you like it. You’ve been sad for so long, since before Mum left, and now you smile.”

“Cobby-”

“It’s a different smile from the kind you give me, but in a good way. When Dom’s around, you’re different. I think he really likes you. Don’t you see how he looks at you?”

Billy opens his mouth to say something, to deny it, perhaps, but he can’t find the words. Cameron is right. The attraction has been clear from day one, and Billy knows it. Of course, Cameron would notice such things, because he’s a very perceptive young boy, always wise beyond his years. That is precisely why Billy works very hard to shield Cameron from certain things, like his distant mother. In whatever ways possible, Billy is trying to let Cameron be a little boy, like he deserves.

“And I thought you liked him, too,” Cameron finishes, hanging his head sadly. “I’m not stupid, Dad. I get that you’re not like other dad’s. I never see you look at grown up girls, even though they look at you.”

Eyes flashing wide, Billy realizes that while Cameron may not have the vocabulary or completely understand the reasoning behind it, he has figured out that his father is not romantically interested in females.

“I know it’s not like other mum’s and dad’s, but I don’t care. I really don’t,” Cameron insists, looking up to meet his father’s surprised gaze. “It doesn’t matter. I just like seeing you happy, because you’ve been sad for so long. When I saw you and Dom kissing, I thought-”

Reaching over, Billy unbuckles Cameron’s seat belt and tenderly guides the little boy into his arms, cradling the small body to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Cobby. I honestly never meant for you to see that,” Billy murmurs, smoothing down Cameron’s tousled hair and kissing his forehead while he rubs Cameron’s back with his other hand. “Do you have any questions? If you do, that’s okay. I’ll do my best to answer them for you.”

“Not really,” Cameron replies, snuggling into Billy’s warm embrace and pressing his face into the crook of Billy’s neck, drawing in a deep breath and then exhaling heavily. “I just wish-”

“I know,” Billy whispers hoarsely when Cameron abruptly breaks off, his shoulders shaking. “I’m really sorry, Cobby. I’m so sorry.”

For several minutes they don’t speak, Billy gently rocking Cameron back and forth and rubbing his back in slow circles. The guilt rushing through Billy’s body, knowing that he’s caused his beloved son pain is almost overwhelming. Taking slow, even breaths and kissing Cameron’s ginger hair, Billy watches his small hand relax its iron grip on Billy’s now wrinkled dress shirt.

“Are you ready to go home, Cobby?” Billy asks finally, feeling the tension start to leave Cameron’s body as he grows limp and pliant in Billy’s arms.

Sniffling and scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand, Cameron nods. “Yeah.”

Crawling out of Billy’s lap and settling into the passenger seat once again, Cameron re-buckles his seat belt before turning a bit and staring silently out the window. The drive home is quiet, the soft strains of a Scottish radio station filling the silence. As Billy pulls into the driveway, a thought occurs to him and sets off bells of alarm.

“Cameron, you haven’t discussed this idea with Dom, have you?”

“Not yet,” Cameron answers Billy. “I wanted him to get used to the idea of having me around first. You know, every day.”

“Don’t,” Billy warns sternly.

“But, Dad-”

Turning off the engine and removing the keys from the ignition, Billy’s rests his forearms on top of the steering wheel for a long moment, gathering strength. His expression is intensely serious as he turns to face Cameron, hoping that he can find the right words to make his son understand the grave importance of them. Under no circumstances can Cameron tell Dom of his plan.

“If you so much as mention a word of this conversation to Dom, Cameron Stuart Boyd, today will be the last practice you ever attend,” Billy says firmly. “Is that clear?”

Paling visibly, Cameron’s freckles seem to stand out more than usual. “Okay,” he agrees in a small voice. “It was just an idea, Dad.”

“I really appreciate that, Cobby, but not a single word,” Billy repeats. “Not one. Do you understand?”

Using a gesture he’d learned in school the previous year, Cameron mimes zipping his mouth shut and tosses the imaginary key over his shoulder.

Managing a laugh, Billy tousles Cameron’s hair affectionally. “That’s better. Now help me with the groceries in the boot. We’re having your favorite.”

“Pasghetti?” Cameron asks hopefully, a smile lighting up his face, and more importantly, his beautiful, young eyes.

“Yup. With hot fudge sundaes and whipped cream for dessert.”

Eagerly, Cameron hurries to help, and the intensely awkward subject is mercifully dropped. However, Billy knows Cameron well, more specifically, his habit of worrying a problem to death, if it interests him. Billy has the uneasy feeling that he hasn’t heard the last on this particular matter.

Not by a long shot.

* ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *

Having never been to a professional football match before, Billy is stunned at the level of noise the crowd is making, before the match even starts. Cameron’s hand trembles with excitement as Billy holds it firmly in his on the way to their seats, but as soon as the team appears on the field, Cameron tugs free. It’s then, as Cameron straightens to attention, that Billy realizes that Cameron doesn’t want Dom to think of him as a child. As Cameron starts jumping up and down, Billy’s urge to assure Cameron that Dom will be far too busy to spare even a glance in their direction is strong.

“There he is, Dad. Dom! Hey, Dom!”

The high, young voice is drowned out by the volume of the crowd, but to Billy’s amazement, Dom turns and looks directly at them. He grins, a cheeky and adorably attractive smile, and waves in greeting. For a long, breathless moment, Dom’s gaze locks with Billy’s, and the pleasure in his blue-grey eyes at seeing Billy makes Billy’s heart skip several beats. Then Dom lifts his hand, his elegant fingers spread in a V sign for victory and then turns his attention to the coach and his teammates.

“Dad, he saw us!”

Smiling warmly at Cameron, Billy nods. “Yes, he certainly did. Now stop jumping around like a kangaroo.” Billy’s voice is firm, but the smile on face his refutes his tone, and Cameron grins, turning to focus his complete attention on the match, not wanting to miss a single moment, his enthusiasm not dampened in the least.

The match itself gets off to a less than pleasant start, with Kilmarnock displaying a rather impressive offense, and within twenty-five minutes, they’ve taken a two goal lead. Billy’s eyes are on Dom the entire time, as he paces back and forth in obvious frustration when the whistle gets blown yet again.

Listening and looking around with trepidation, Billy decides that if an opinion poll was taken for Dom’s chances of staying in for the remainder of the match, over half the people watching would put their thumbs down, like the Christians and the lions. Drawing the fingers of both hands through his hair, Dom leans in to several teammates to speak to them, and then they spread out over the pitch again.

The battle for the ball sweeps down the pitch and back again, neither team able to maintain the advantage for long. Every time Dom manages to start to move the ball, he’s met with a seemingly endless stream of opposing players and has to fight very hard to prevent losing control of the ball. Signaling to his teammates, Dom passes to one of them a few seconds later and doggedly works his way into the opposing team’s defense, suddenly breaking free at a critical moment and firing the ball into the net.

All the objections to Dom melt away as the fans leap to their feet and roar with approval. Looking around, Dom’s sweat sheened face is alight with uninhibited joy and then he forces his attention back on the game, determined to keep the momentum going. Just five minutes later, Dom assists in the scoring of a second goal, and all opposition to Dom seems to be a distant memory. After the less than spectacular start, the Rangers at last find their rhythm and proceed to dominate for the rest of the match.

To Billy’s relief, Dom manages to avoid more than a handful of potential tackles, passing the ball often, though Billy winces internally every single time Dom changes direction abruptly, putting pressure on his weakened knee. When the match is finally over, Dom and his Rangers have won, 5-2, with Dom involved in each of the goals, either scoring himself or assisting a teammate.

If Cameron is ecstatic, Billy is no less so, his voice hoarse, his throat sore from screaming and cheering. Feeling like a wee lad himself, Billy grins widely as he and Cameron jump up and down, hugging each other. When Dom looks up at where they are celebrating, Billy lifts a hand to wave, his smile reaching from ear to ear. Once again, there is a long moment between them, a fire igniting in Billy’s belly. It’s only when a teammate throws an arm around Dom’s shoulders and starts to lead him away that their eyes part.

It takes the rest of the evening to get Cameron calmed down enough to go to sleep. Over and over he’d begged to go over and congratulate Dom, but judging by the nearly continuous stream of sports cars roaring up to the house next door, Billy decides that it’s certainly no place for an idealistic young boy. Assuring his son that he’ll see Dom tomorrow, Billy puts Cameron to bed, smiling as he promptly falls asleep, running down abruptly like a spring-wound clock. Tucking the coverlet around Cameron’s small body, Billy brushes the hair off his forehead before tenderly kissing him goodnight.

Sitting alone by the pool with a tumbler of whiskey cradled in his hand, his other hand toying with the belt of his robe, Billy listens to the loud music and jumble of sounds from the wild party going on next door. It’s no wonder that the Estate Agent neglected to mention that Dominic Monaghan would be Billy’s neighbor when showing the property. If it’s going to be like this on future Saturday nights, Billy’s going to be to be a wreck the next day, losing one of his few precious days off to spend with Cameron. Glaring in the direction of the gate in the shared wall, Billy wishes he has the nerve to march over there and demand that they quiet things down. Tomorrow, Billy decides, taking a long sip of his whiskey, tomorrow he’ll confront Dom and insist he behave with more consideration for his neighbors.

Billy’s walking into the kitchen to make a cup of tea when the phone rings. Not wanting the sound to wake Cameron, Billy answers it quickly, keeping his voice low.

“Hello?”

“Billy?”

He’s not surprised in the least that Dom can’t hear him, as the music in the background is deafening.

“Dom?” Billy asks. “Turn down the music.”

“What?”

“I said, turn down the music,” Billy says louder, almost shouting and then wincing as his voice echoes in the quiet house.

“I still can’t hear you, Billy,” Dom replies loudly. “Can you hear me?”

“Barely,” Billy says, trying again, rolling his eyes and wondering why he’s bothering, seriously considering just hanging up on Dom. “What do you want?”

“I need you to come over here, Billy,” Dom yells.

Then a female giggle comes over the phone line.

“It sounds like you’re doing just fine without me, Monaghan,” Billy fires back, furious that Dom has the nerve to invite him to his damn party this late and hating the idea of some faceless woman putting her hands on Dom’s body.

Of course, Billy wouldn’t have accepted the invitation if Dom had suggested it earlier, as it wouldn’t be appropriate for their professional relationship, but it would’ve been nice to be asked, at least. Slamming down the receiver, Billy decides that Dom can undoubtedly hear that.

Just fifteen seconds later, the phone rings again, shattering the silence.

“Look, not that anyone can get any fecking sleep around here with that bloody racket going on, I’d actually like to try,” Billy yells after bringing the phone to his ear again. “So piss off!”

Incredibly, there is dead silence on the other end of the line, where it had been stunningly loud just moments ago.

“I really do need you, Billy,” Dom says finally, his voice soft, completely serious.

Billy can still hear the party noise in the back garden and then wonders where Dom could’ve gone so quickly that it is suddenly so quiet.

“Where are you?” Billy inquires, arching an eyebrow.

“In my bedroom,” Dom replies.

“Oh.”

“Alone,” Dom adds quickly, surprised at his need to reassure Billy that there isn’t anyone with him.

“Well, that shouldn’t prove an unsolvable problem,” Billy retorts, still annoyed. “Just open the door and you’ll have to get the women to take a number or something.”

“Billy, I don’t know if I can make it to the door,” Dom confesses.

The low, pained tone in Dom’s voice causes icy, fearful water to run through Billy’s veins. “Is it your knee?” he whispers, clutching the receiver with suddenly moist hands.

“Yeah, that’s right. My knee,” Dom says, muffling a groan. “I really do need you, Billy. Please.”

“Give me two minutes to throw some clothes on and I’ll be right there,” Billy promises.

Hanging up the phone without waiting for an answer, Billy races upstairs, tossing aside his robe as he enters his bedroom. Pulling a pair of jeans out of the wardrobe, Billy yanks them on and struggles into a shirt, fighting with the buttons as he hurries back downstairs, not bothering to grab socks or shoes. Scooping up his small black bag from the kitchen table, Billy hurries across the grass and pushes his way through the dozens of people dancing and celebrating in Dom’s back garden, desperate to get to him as quickly as possible.

“Hey, you’re the Doc, yeah? Boyd?”

Pausing in mid step, Billy looks over at a tall blonde man who is eyeing him and his bag rather closely. The man seems familiar, as though Billy has seen him before. Then Billy recognizes him as the teammate who had wrapped his arm around Dom’s shoulders earlier, after winning the match.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Billy confirms with a nod. “I’m Dr. Boyd.”

“David Wenham,” he introduces himself, extending a hand and then smiling when Billy offers his own, seemingly automatic as he’s clearly distracted. “I’m the one trying to keep Dom from doing too much and getting hurt while he’s out on the pitch, despite what Holm wants. Dom’s in the house. I’ll show you way,” he offers as their hands part.

“Is he hurt bad?” Billy asks, gnawing on his lower lip as David leads him through a throng of men and women, in various stages of inebriation, and down a long hallway.

Glancing over his shoulder, David offer Billy an enigmatic smile. “Oh, I think he’ll be fine now.” Opening a door, David gestures for Billy to enter. “Good luck, Dom. I think you’re going to need it,” he calls before beating a hasty retreat. Eyes on Dom, Billy doesn’t see the twinkle in David’s eye as he closes the door.

Sitting on the end of a wide bed, Dom’s forearms rest on his denim clad thighs, his hands clasped loosely together between his knees. He doesn’t look up as Billy rushes to kneel beside him.

“Can you take those jeans off by yourself, or do you need some help?” Billy asks gently, laying a cautious hand on Dom’s bare arm.

Slowly, Dom lifts his head, his blue-grey eyes brightening considerably. “Now that is, without a doubt, the most interesting and inviting offer I’ve had all evening, Billy.”

“Your knee,” Billy reminds him, studying Dom suspiciously, not seeing the expected shadowing of pain in his eyes and tense jaw line.

Tentatively, Dom smiles. “My knee is fine.”

“You bastard. You lied to me?” Instantly, Billy pulls away, getting to his feet. “Dominic Monaghan, you said you needed me!”

“I didn’t lie. I do need you.” Lifting his palms in a helpless gesture, Dom meets Billy’s heated gaze. “I’ll admit that I stretched the truth about my leg in order to get you over here. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d come otherwise.” Pausing, Dom eyes Billy curiously. “Would you have?”

As Dom’s eyes settle disconcertingly at a spot about a foot below Billy’s nose, Billy suddenly remembers that he’d only managed to button his shirt up about halfway, leaving more than a fair bit of his furry chest exposed.

“Of course not,” Billy fires back in annoyance. “I’m not into orgies.”

Sighing heavily, Dom runs his long fingers through his hair, much like he did on the pitch this afternoon, before rising to stand. “It’s only a party.”

Turning away, Billy fastens a few buttons and prepares to leave. “Sure, try telling that to the police when they raid the place. Do you usually have an entire line of nearly naked women dancing on your kitchen countertop?”

“Billy-”

Stopping, Billy is unable to walk away from the intimate, velvety request in Dom’s low voice, but he refuses to turn around, knowing that he’ll never survive the expression that Dom is probably directing his way. The man has the sexiest eyes Billy’s ever seen and considering the heat he felt earlier at the match, having Dom less than three feet away is just asking for trouble.

“What is it?” Billy asks finally, after swallowing hard to help regain his composure.

“I’m lonely, Billy,” Dom admits, not even trying to hide the vulnerability in his voice. “That’s why I called you.”

“Lonely?” Billy manages a brittle laugh in an attempt at deflection. “Take a look out there, Dom. Between the house and the back garden there’s over a hundred people roaming around this place. Over a hundred very noisy people,” Billy tacks on pointedly.

Closing the distance between them, Dom walks over until he’s standing right behind Billy. Although Dom hasn’t actually touched him, Billy can feel the heat radiating from Dom’s body, unnervingly close to his back. Leaning in, Dom’s hot breath gently caresses Billy’s ear and neck.

“Haven’t you ever been lonely in the middle of a crowd, Billy?” Dom asks softly. “Not even once?”

Of course Billy had. Innumerable times when he’d reluctantly attended parties with Abby, but that had never seemed unusual. He was lonely at home with his ex-wife, too. The more he thinks about it, he realizes that he was lonely the majority of the time, the exception being the joyful hours spent one on one with Cameron.

“That’s the absolute worst kind of lonely, Billy,” Dom continues, quietly yet firmly, pressing his case. “Because you realize that you need something more than just mere bodies surrounding you. You need that one special person to make everything alright again.”

Even as he utters the deliberately seductive words, Dom realizes that they are true. Unwilling to try to figure out why these atypical emotions keep surfacing whenever he’s around Billy, Dom forces his mind to focus on the obvious. Like the intoxicating scent from Billy’s body that Dom just can’t place, that is distinctly his, or the dusting of gold on his mussed, ginger hair. Then there is the fact that Billy’s body is trembling of its own volition, just inches from his own. Dom can tell that Billy is rather nervous, just as he’s sure that every nerve in Billy’s body mirrors his own overwhelming need.

The memory of that night in the kitchen flows over Dom, what Billy’s pointy tongue felt like as it slipped onto his mouth, sliding sensually against his own tongue while Billy’s small hands almost tore away the fabric barrier between their aroused bodies. Remembering the weight of Billy’s body above him, pressed firmly between his thighs, Dom’s breath catches in his throat. Countless nights, Dom has dreamed of that encounter, and wished that it hadn’t been so rudely interrupted with the ill timed discovery of an injury.

“But I’m not that person, Dom,” Billy protests in a whisper, wrapping his free arm around himself in an unconsciously protective gesture. Don’t listen to this, he instructs his mind. However, Billy is fast discovering that a rosy fog has settled over his brain and he’s left with only his feelings and the memory of Dom’s bare skin against him.

“Yes, you are, Billy,” Dom murmurs in his ear. “And I know that I’m a bloody wanker to take advantage of you like this, but I managed to win a very important match today. A match that means a lot more to me than the final score would indicate. I want to share that victory with one very special person.”

Hesitating for a moment, Dom moves closer, his hands sliding lightly around Billy’s waist and fingers clasping over his stomach, gently drawing their bodies together. “I want, no, I need to share these feeling with you, Billy. Please don’t turn me down.”

Oh God, how can I refuse such a request like that? “I can’t stay here, Dom,” Billy says slowly, finally turning in Dom’s warm embrace to meet his soulful eyes. “Cameron’s asleep, alone. I only left him because I thought it was an emergency.”

Their eyes hold and there is a moment of intense heat as Dom appears on the brink of dragging Billy closer and kissing him breathless, but Dom refrains, shaking his head with a soft sigh.

“Don’t you see, Billy? It was an emergency. I had to see you. I had to hold you in my arms like this,” Dom replies softly, fingertips gently stroking Billy’s lower back. “I had to feel how perfectly we fit together, just like I knew we would.”

“Dom-”

“We’ll go over to your house,” Dom says simply. “Then Cam won’t be alone, yeah?”

Billy knows that he’s playing with a smoldering fire that’s on the verge of blazing wildly out of control, but it feels so incredibly, wonderfully right to have Dom looking at him this way, his blue-grey eyes dark with undisguised desire. The urge to pull Dom further into his arms and draw that seductive lower lip into his mouth is fierce, but the rational side of Billy resists.

Fighting for a lifeline of sanity, Billy forces himself to throw away the blinders and face Dom’s well reported reputation straight on. “I don’t know how you usually celebrate a victory, Dom, aside from throwing a very loud party. As wonderful as today’s match was and how very happy I am for you, you need to understand that the day isn’t going to end with you in my bed.”

Slowly, Dom nods. “Fair enough.” Unable to resist, Dom slides a hand down Billy’s left side, tracing the gentle curves, fingers coming to rest at Billy’s hip. “I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t want you, Billy, but I’m willing to respect your ground rules. If all we do is talk, that’ll be okay, too.”

“Do you promise?” Billy prompts, his eyes heavy with suspicion.

“Scout’s honor.”

That earns a light laugh. “I find it very hard to believe that the host of the wild party out there was ever a cub scout.”

“Venture scout, actually,” Dom corrects with a smile. “My dad was a Scoutmaster.”

For some reason, it’s a surprise to think of Dom with a family, despite what Cameron has told him about Dom’s older brother. Somehow, Billy convinces himself that perhaps if they get to know each other better, grow more comfortable with each other, this constant, intense attraction will fade. He seriously doubts that, but Billy is scrambling desperately for some other excuse to allow Dom to return to his house with him.

“How can you leave your own party?”

Carelessly, Dom shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. No one will notice I’m gone except David, and he’ll figure it out where I am easily enough. He’ll take care of any problems.”

Frowning in thought, Billy wonders what kind of friends Dom has, that they are supposed to be here celebrating, but won’t even care enough to notice that he’s disappeared. Yes, it’s very clear that he and Dominic Monaghan definitely move in different circles. They are light years apart and no amount of sexual chemistry is going to change that, even with tantalizing lips like Dom’s.

“Just for a while,” Billy warns softly, giving in at last.

Smiling, Dom brushes a kiss as light as a snowflake against Billy’s bow shaped lips.

“Just for a while,” Dom agrees. “Thank you, Billy.”

Giving a brief nod, Billy finds that Dom’s grave note of sincere appreciation does absolutely nothing to instill calm.

* ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *

Chapter 7

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Date: 2006-05-08 03:21 pm (UTC)

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