After Falling - 8

[sparklytiara.livejournal.com]

Title: After Falling 8/?
Author: Ami
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: R
Summary: They've already fallen. It's getting back up that's the problem.
Disclaimer: Psh. Such lies these people tell.
Author's Notes: Apologies for the delay, the next chapter shouldn't take quite as long. Previous chapters can be found here but as I'm f'only, you'll have to drop a comment so I can friend you so's you can see. or you could paw through the community to find them Feedback is loved and appreciated. <3





After Falling - 8

“I love you.” Billy paused and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat before speaking again.

“It’s not even love anymore. It’s beyond love. You…Dom…you are *everything*. When I’m with you, I can barely *breathe* because my head is spinning so much from everything I feel. There’s this…this…this exhilaration to be with you. And I’m so *happy* then…I forget why I’m depressed or angry or just not okay. All I can do is laugh and smile and stare at you because you, you’re beautiful to look at. Beautiful in this crazy, happy, laughing existence you live, that you drag me into.

“But at the same time, Dom…you break my heart. Because there’s sadness to your mouth, in your eyes sometimes. And I know you don’t want me…least of all me, to see that sometimes you’re not that strong. That you’re only human, that you can crumble and weaken and break just like anyone else. And it breaks my heart to see you, so sad, and so alone because you don’t think you can reach out for anyone.

“And sometimes I *want* you to break. Because that way I don’t feel so guilty when *I* need you. When I want to reach out for you.” Billy stopped there and bowed his head, his voice thick and heavy through unshed tears, emotion. “I love you, Dom. I…” Billy’s voice died off and he lifted his head to glance over at Dom.

Dom lay beside him, his eyes closed and the same slight upwards curve of the lips he’d fallen asleep with still gracing his face. Billy sighed and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, his fingertips gently tracing the curve of Dom’s face. The unshaved face was rough beneath his fingertips.

“Sometimes it’s easier to say things when you’re asleep,” Billy murmured and gave a small, sad smile at Dom before leaning down and dropping a light kiss against Dom’s lips. Beneath him, Dom stirred slightly and Billy pulled back slightly, his breath caught between his lips, and he held it, waiting to see Dom’s reaction. Dom sighed and shifted beneath the covers, turned his away from Billy.

Disappointed, Billy sat back and frowned down at the sleeping man.

Dom was leaving later that day. That afternoon. And Billy was no closer to a satisfactory conclusion than he had been the day that Dom arrived. A month ago. One whole fucking *month* Billy had spent with Dom, with nobody *but* Dom and still, he couldn’t pull himself together for five fucking *minutes* to tell Dom what he should hear. What Billy *needed* him to hear.

But now was not the time, Billy realized unhappily, gazing down at Dom, the bittersweet taste of his confession still lying heavy on his lips. “I can’t tell you now, can I?” Billy asked softly. His voice was hoarse, resigned. “And if I can’t tell you now, if I couldn’t tell you before…I can’t ever tell you, *can* I?” Because how could he tell Dom, tell Dom that he *loved* him the day that Dom was to leave?

Dom would stay, Billy knew this. Because Billy was Dom’s best friend. Because Billy was Billy and because Dom had promised Billy, so many times, if you need me, I’m there. And Billy needed Dom.

But he didn’t need Dom’s pity.

He didn’t need the guilt-ridden, pitying Dom to stay with him. He didn’t need Dom to feel fucking *sorry* for him.

And if he told Dom now, woke him up and told him at this very moment, what else could Dom do but say, I’ll stay? Billy was his best *friend*. Dom was anything, if not loyal. Devoted. And because he was loyal to Billy, devoted to their relationship, he would stay with Billy. Out of loyalty. Out of devotion. Because he would feel that he *had* to.

Billy didn’t want to be anyone’s duty.

“I guess this was never going to work, was it, Dom?” Billy whispered and blinked at a haze of tears. Goddamn fucking *tears*. Billy brushed at them angrily and said, louder, “It wasn’t meant to be, was it? Dom and Billy were never meant to be lovers, never meant to be in love. Because if they were, they - *we* - would know it by now. Wouldn’t we? *Wouldn’t* we, Dom?”

And Dom’s eyes slowly drifted open and he smiled, a sleepy happy smile, up at Billy and said, “Wouldn’t we what?”

Billy didn’t know how to respond. It was as though all his senses left him when Dom was there, awake and fully aware of Billy. He couldn’t think of a thing to say and finally, after a long, awkward pause – “Er. Nothing?”

Brilliant, Boyd. He’ll buy that.

Dom raised an eyebrow at Billy. “Er. Nothing,” he mimicked. “What the hell are you playing at?”

“Er. Nothing?”

Maybe that could become Billy’s catchphrase. “Er. Nothing?” It kind of summed up his life at the moment.

“It’s too fucking early to be playing mind games.” Dom rolled at eye toward the clock and grimaced. “What the fuck are you doing up anyway?”

“Er. Nothing?” Billy winced as the words left his mouth. He didn’t even have control over his mouth anymore. He couldn’t really blame Dom for staring at him like he was a moron.

Dom gave Billy an incredulous shake of the head. “Shut up,” he said finally and scrambled to a sitting position, leaning forward to wrap a hand around Billy’s neck, pulling him into a kiss.

If Billy’s senses left him when Dom was awake, his mind completely evaporated when Dom kissed him. “No,” Billy whispered when Dom started to pull away, his hand reaching out and clawing at Dom’s t-shirt, his fingers clenched around the thin fabric and keeping Dom close to him, close enough to feel Dom’s breath whish across his lips, to feel the heat radiating between their bodies.

“No?” Dom whispered back and his voice was a low, hot rumble that echoed in Billy’s mind. “No what?”

“Don’t stop,” Billy said and his voice grew lower and a plaintive note became more prominent as he fisted his hand and pulled Dom toward him, their noses, foreheads bumping lightly together. “*Please*. Don’t *stop*.” And Billy hated the way a whine, a beg, crept into his voice.

Dom had no words for Billy, instead bowing his head slightly to find Billy’s lips, to fumble against them, to slowly tease them open and to follow the flow of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, to learn the lines of Billy’s teeth and the curve of his cheek. His eyes shut tight against the slow burn of tears, Billy’s fingers glided smoothly up under Dom’s t-shirt, across the firm muscles of his abdomen; tease the sharp lines of his hips and the angles of his chest. It was different, touching Dom than a woman, Dom didn’t squirm and pull away, try to suck in his stomach and he didn’t shriek and tell Billy that he was too fat and try to drag a compliment from Billy’s unwilling lips. There wasn’t a bra for him to struggle with and to feel ridiculous and raw as his lover rolled her eyes and unsnapped the stupid thing herself. The muscles were harder and more pronounced; the lines of bone and flesh defined and strong beneath Billy’s hand, short wiry curls of hair grazing his hand.

“Billy? What are you doing?” Dom whispered, breaking off the kiss suddenly and staring at Billy.

“Er. Nothing?” A small guilty blush flushed the back of Billy’s neck as he bowed his head and pulled his hand out from Dom’s shirt, grasping the edge of the fabric and tugging it up over Dom’s head.

“I like your kind of nothing.” Billy laughed at the quirky lift of the eyebrows Dom gave him and crawled closer to him, his legs sliding neatly over Dom’s, fitting them together in a perfect, close tangle, and kissing him.

And because kissing leads to other things, and other things lead to more things, it wasn’t long before Dom was begging Billy his voice echoing memories of days past, “Harder, faster, dammit Billy, FUCK ME!”

And because Billy loved Dom and because Dom was leaving and because he didn’t know what else to do, Billy did just that.

---

“Got all your stuff?” Billy asked for the umpteenth time, unable to think of anything better to say.

Dom sighed. “Yeah.”

“Your toothbrush?”

“Yeah.”

“Your wallet?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your-,”

“Yes *Mum*, I’ve got my ticket and my passport and I’ve even got clean pants on, so stop worrying.”

“Well, somebody needs to,” Billy muttered and slumped down in his chair, looking away from Dom and out the window. In the chair next to him, Dom turned his head in the opposite direction and slumped down, an unintentional mimicry of Billy’s motions. Billy smiled to himself as he caught a glimpse of Dom, arms folded defiantly across his chest. Billy unfolded his own arms and watched, silent, as a series of planes took off and landed.

Now would be the time to say something.

Now would be the time to do something.

Now would be the time for….anything.

There were precious few minutes left before Dom left, minutes that were quickly turning to seconds and seconds that were quickly filtering through Billy’s loose grasp on them. And while he sat there, watching the planes take off and land, he struggled to find the words to say.

It was too late though, wasn’t it?

He’d been through this countless times, more times than he wanted to remember.

Dom is leaving you today, Billy told himself sternly. He is going to walk onto that plane. That plane is going to take off. And you will never see him like this again.

Never.

Never was really a very long time if Billy thought about it. Slowly, his eyes lifted from the planes and made their way to meet Dom’s eyes. Dom smiled at him, a quick tiny curve of the lips. His eyes were dark, grey, a little sad and a little forlorn. Billy held them with his own for a long moment, locking away in the back of his mind the curl of Dom’s lash, the arch of his brow and the slant of his eye.

He would see Dom again. Billy knew that much. He *would* see Dom again. But it would never…it would never be like this. Not just sitting, quiet and comfortable, their eyes locked on one another’s without the need to pull away or to fill the silence with a jumble of awkward words. Billy would never be able to sit so closely to Dom, to feel the heat of Dom’s leg pressed against his followed by that same delicious, sexual thrill that traveled up his spine at the electricity that crackled between their bodies. He would never kiss Dom again, not like he had kissed him this morning, lingering, warm, wet.

If Dom left now, Billy would relinquish all claims on his body, on his mind, on any part of him. If Dom left now, Billy would fade back into the position of friend, mate, acquaintance, and allow the title of lover and confidant to fall from his grasp.

All this tumbled through Billy’s mind as his eyes locked on Dom’s, as he memorized them, memorized the soft freckles that hovered beneath the surface of his skin, the slightly bluish tinge hovering beneath his eyes, the rough stubble that prickled over his face. Dom’s eyes, still a little sad, were serene, calm.

Billy knew that if Dom left now, Dom would be okay. That if Dom left now, *Billy* would be okay. Billy had lived without Dom before – it hadn’t been a great existence but it had been *an* existence. He could do it again. And now that he knew, knew what to expect, it could be better.

Billy would never find anyone to find Dom’s place. There was no other Dom; there would never be another Dom.

Billy believed in love.

But he also believed in second chances. He believed in different kinds of love. He believed that everything works out in the end.

Billy was in love with Dom. He loved Dom in ways he couldn’t explain, not even to himself, and he loved him in small, minute ways that made perfect sense. And he knew that he would *always* love Dom like this.

Dom might have been his first chance.

But there would be a second chance. Maybe a third.

If Dom left, Billy would eventually, find a way to make room for someone else. There would be someone who could take what little space Dom had left in Billy’s heart and life, and settle themselves into it. Someone who could be content to reside along the broken fragments and someone who could love what Billy had left to give.

Everything would work out in the end.

He’d lived without Dom before. He could do it again.

And Billy’s lips broke into a gentle smile as he settled back into his seat. His eyes reflected the calm serenity of Dom’s as he slowly let the cards slip from his hand and into Dom’s.

It was all in Dom’s hand now.

Billy would be content with whatever Dom dealt him.

---

They were calling Dom’s flight number.

“That’s your flight,” Billy whispered, nudging Dom’s shoulder gently.

Dom’s eyes glanced out the window. At the plane that would take him away from Scotland and from Billy in a few short minutes. “That’s my flight,” he echoed. He didn’t move though to grab his bags, only turned his head to face Billy. “That’s my flight,” he said again. His smile was crooked, tremulous as he met Billy’s eyes. “My flight,” he said helplessly.

“Are you going to get on it?” Billy was held to his spot by Dom’s eyes, by the sudden insecurity and doubt in them. Stay. Please, please, say that you’ll stay. His palms went slick with cold sweat, his mouth dry, and his heart raced as he stared at Dom. Please.

Dom frowned at him and he tore away his eyes from Billy’s. “Of course I’m going to get on it,” he said, bending to grab his bags. His tone was scoffing. “Would be a bloody huge waste of money if I didn’t get on the plane. They don’t refund tickets this late.”

I’ll refund the damn ticket if you would just say that you’ll stay.

“You gone daft or something Bill? Why wouldn’t I go?” Was it just Billy’s imagination or was there a hint of hysterics to Dom’s voice. “Of course I’m going. I’m going home.” What did Dom expect Billy to say? What did Dom *want* him to say.

Dom was only a few inches away from Billy now, a bag grasped in each hand. His jaw was set determinedly.

Billy was standing between Dom and the gate.

Billy gave up and stepped aside. “Of course you’re going home,” he said wearily, rubbing a hand across his face. “Of course you are,” he mumbled as Dom stepped close to him once again.

“Bill…”

“Yeah?” Billy looked up to see Dom standing uncertainly before him. “What is it?”

“Thanks.” Dom smiled, dropped a bag to give Billy a one-armed hug and smacked a wet, warm kiss to Billy’s cheek. “I miss you, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.” Billy ducked out from Dom’s embrace, took a wobbly step or two back.

Dom’s flight was called for a final time.

“You’d better go,” Billy forced himself to say. Stay, damn it, STAY.

“I’d better.” Dom gave Billy another offhand smile as he hoisted his bag again. “Well. Good bye then.”

Billy nodded weakly, fighting to keep back the words that kept rising unbidden to his lips.

I love you.

Don’t leave me.

Do you love me? A little?

Please stay.

I love you.

“Dom!” The name forced itself from Billy’s lips and he gasped his hand flying up, too late, to press his lips shut.

Dom turned; his fingers paused in the act of withdrawing his boarding pass. Beside him stood an irritated airline attendant. He raised an eyebrow – what?

“Why…” Billy’s was convinced he’d burst into tears if he kept talking. Just shut up Boyd, just shut up. “Why…”

“Sir?” The attendant addressed Dom; annoyance making her hit the title too hard, too edgily.

“Just a minute, willya?” Dom glared at her. “Billy? What is it?”

“Why did you leave? Before?” Billy’s voice was miserable and he was terrified he’d break out in tears, bawl out that he loved Dominic, fall on his knees and beg Dom to stay.

Dom hadn’t even left yet and already Billy was falling apart. Already his life was unraveling.

Could he *really* manage without Dom?

“*Sir*. Are you boarding the plane or not?” Any semblance of politeness had left the attendant’s voice; she was past curt and stepping into downright rude. “We *do* have a schedule to keep.”

Dom’s gaze flickered from her, to the plane, to Billy. Resolutely, he shoved his papers at her. “There. Happy?”

“Excruciatingly.” She glared at him, shook his boarding pass out of its envelope.

“*Dom*.”

“What the hell do you want from me Billy?” Dom turned and shrugged at Billy. “I left because you never asked me to stay. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Everything appears to be in order sir. Please feel free to board the plane at anytime.” The attendant handed Dom his papers and he stuffed them into his pocket without even glancing at her or retorting to her sarcasm.

Ask him now.

I can’t.

ASK HIM.

But before Billy could draw up the courage to reply to Dom, to ask him to stay, to tell him that he loved him, Dom had shaken his head and boarded the plane without so much as a glance for Billy.

Stunned, Billy sank into one of the cold, hard, plastic chairs that surrounded him. The noise and motion of the airport faded into a distant blur and he watched feeling slightly sick and slightly horrified as Dom’s plane went into motion.

He followed it with his eyes until it was only a small dot in the sky, until it was nothing but a streak of white smoke, and when it was nothing but blue sky, he let out a soft sob. It felt as though he’d had the wind knocked out of him, as though someone had delivered a swift deliberate punch to his stomach.

Dom was gone.

“Fuck,” he whispered and wiped a hand at his eye, hoping that the sharp sting of tears wouldn’t pool and drop. “Fuck,” he whispered again as a tear fell. It was just one tear. That didn’t mean anything. Another fell. All right, two tears. That didn’t constitute as crying. Three, four, five tears – that wasn’t crying. Six, seven, eight – that wasn’t crying either.

Men weren’t supposed to cry. Men weren’t supposed to fall apart and fall so deeply in love that they lost themselves. Men weren’t supposed to obsess over saying I love you and men weren’t supposed to break down in deep heaving sobs in public places.

But Billy had never been good at being what he was supposed to be.

So Billy hoped that there wasn’t anyone he knew about before covering his face with his hands and breaking down in deep heaving sobs in a public place, adding his sorrow to the mix of noise and mess of life that surrounded him.

I didn’t really think he’d go.

TBC