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monaboyd Feb. 3rd, 2007 11:46 pm)
hyacinth-sky747.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Feb. 3rd, 2007 11:46 pm)On the Rack
d/b
Disclaimer: This is fiction
He walked down the stairs ahead of me. I studied the back of his perfect little head. He was smiling, jabbering. His hair stuck out all over. I wanted to touch him. I had this little ache in my breast bone, like I needed his head nuzzled there. I waited until we got to the landing before pulling him back against me. His head felt right nestled against my chest, a warm, comforting weight. I didn’t want to let him go.
He smiled up at me, his face shining. I smiled back, held him a second longer than was absolutely necessary and then let him go. We walked out into the rain.
I pulled my hood up and, when he didn’t do the same, I pulled his up for him. He went and stood in a puddle, defying my over-protectiveness.
“Twit,” I said.
His foot swept out sending up such a spray that I felt water mist my face.
“Fucker,” I said.
He put on a pout and I wanted to kiss it. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about kissing him but it was the first time I’d thought about seriously enough that I nearly acted on it. Sprinkles of cold fire ran down my spine. I turned away, mopped my face and then held it up to the clean rain.
“You’ll get hypothermia. You should go back and change your socks.”
“I don’t get hypothermia.”
“Anyone can get it.”
“Not me. I’m immune. I’ve built up an immunity to it.”
Everything he did that day was a delight. He had to go the loo four times during the course of one beer. It made me giggle to think of him gone all malfunctioning. He came back once with his shirt tail untucked. I reached out to tuck it in for him, remembered myself and nicked one of his cigarettes instead.
“You’ve got your own.”
“Yours taste better.”
“Because they’re free, you mean.”
“Because they’re yours.”
Next he came back with his fly open. I didn’t want to tell him. I wanted to stare. In the end I told him. I had to. I had to let him know that I saw, that I noticed him, that I was looking out for him.
He didn’t fix his zipper. He leaned back in the booth, shook a cigarette from the box, fiddled with it.
“Fix it for me. I’m lazy.”
He managed to look incredibly bored. The pulse point on his neck betrayed him. I managed to smile. I threw a napkin at his face. He ducked, smiled, and fixed his trousers.
~*~
“Why have we never misbehaved?”
“What are you talking about? You never behave.”
“Don’t be dense. It doesn’t become you.”
Billy sighed and pushed himself away from the window. He had been watching the clouds hanging over the city. He looked tired.
“I wish it would snow. I wish it would rain or something. I feel…stretched. I wish it would thunder snow, just…fucking…bury us. Bury me.” He sighed again and lit a cigarette. “I want four feet of snow, everything to just shut down.”
I didn’t know what to say. I sat up straighter in my chair. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re meant to ask why.”
“Why?”
He just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I need a nap.”
“You look tired.”
“I wish it would…”
“Snow.”
“Everything’s so brown and dead. I need a …”
“Release.”
“No, shut up. You don’t know everything I’m going to say.”
“Sorry, do go on.”
“I don’t know what I need. I need a clean slate or…some fucking thing.”
He closed his eyes. I slapped my thighs.
“Come sit. Come sit on me. Maybe you just need to be loved.”
“By you?” He looked incredulous.
“Why not?”
He shrugged again and bit his thumbnail.
“You’re not going to let me in, are you?”
He feigned ignorance for a second or two, but then had the decency to hang his head and look away.
“It’s okay,” I said gently. I got to my feet, gathered my keys and jacket. “I hope it snows,” I said as I shut the door behind me.
~*~
The rest of that weekend was so quiet. The phone was silent. I guess the long hours of filming and then partying every weekend had caught up to everyone all at once. Elijah emailed me on Sunday morning.
I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over 24 hours. I’ve finally done laundry. And just slept, man. Just slept and slept. Don’t reply. I’m still too tired to decipher your typing. Hope you’re well, buddy. See you tomorrow.
I tried to be productive, tried to read and write and get myself organized, but there was this deep sigh in me that I couldn’t get out. I slept most of Sunday too.
~*~
“Holy shit.”
“Biggest fucking snowflakes I’ve ever seen.”
“Right, we’re going to pack up.”
I huddled. I picked glue out of my ears and watched the tremendous sighs cloud out of my mouth.
“Do we have everyone? Where’s Pippin?”
“What?” I looked around.
“Pippin. Billy…or Dom, whichever one you’re not. Where is he?”
“Oh…I…I’m on it.” I left the tent.
He was standing in some shrubbery, his face turned toward the sky, his arms held out to receive the snow. He was radiant. I didn’t want to disturb him.
“Bill.”
He didn’t answer.
“Billy, it’s time to go.”
“I know.” He still didn’t move.
I stood there too, mesmerized by the falling snow.
“Do you feel better?”
He turned then. His eyes were full of tears but he blinked them away.
“Just being foolish,” he said.
He came with me then. On the ride back to town he allowed himself to sleep. His head rested on my shoulder. I didn’t sleep. I wanted to remember it.
~*~
I still have my journals from those months and at times I was so frustrated that my pen left indents on the page. Even to this day I can still feel the lines there, like scars. I never reproached him.
You see, for all my frustration I had a peace that wasn’t granted to Billy. I was certain of my heart. I watched him daily as he struggled to find peace with his own. It was torturous. There were times when I wanted to say, “It’s okay. You don’t have to love me. Just let it go.” There were times when I wanted to disappear, to erase myself from his memory so he could go on, blissfully unaware. Love has a price.
~*~
There was another snow storm that year. It was one of those spring storms that makes you want to book a flight on the next plane to Tahiti. I watched the cars fishtail up the street for awhile. I sipped a beer and wondered if I should get really shit-faced. There was a knock at the door.
It was Billy. He was all bundled up and holding a six pack and bag of groceries.
“I walked,” was all he said.
I helped him off with his coat and hat. His hair was plastered to his head and his cheeks were ten different shades of pink.
“You look really pretty,” I said.
He gave me the finger and snapped open a beer. He downed half of it in one swallow before kicking off his boots.
“Fuck, my feet are numb. Fucking hurts.”
“Stay here,” I said.
I filled a basin with warm water and brought it into the living room.
“Take your socks off.”
I went to the kitchen and downed a shot of whiskey while he warmed his feet. I poured another and one for him and brought them back to the living room.
He smiled and threw it down his throat.
“I should have bought more beer.”
“I’ve plenty. Am I meant to ask why you need it?”
He took his feet out of the water and dried them on the towel I’d left him.
“Billy?”
He looked wretched. He picked up his empty tumbler and looked sorrowfully at it. I went back to the kitchen and grabbed the whiskey bottle. Poured him another.
He sipped it with his eyes closed. He didn’t open them.
“I can never love you the way you want me to, Dom.”
It was a lie, but a punch to the gut nonetheless. I took it in silence.
“That’s what you walked through a blizzard to tell me? Knowing you’d be stranded here?”
He opened his eyes then. It pained me to look at them but I didn’t look away. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe. I had to feel every bit of his heartache. That’s what it means to love someone. I fucking wanted to feel it. I wanted to be all mixed up with him. He was breaking for me and I couldn’t tell if I was anguished or exhilarated.
He looked steadily at me.
“The thing is, Dom. The thing is…you have to be in my life forever. I can’t let you go. I’m a very good friend and I can keep you as a friend forever. I know I can. I won’t risk the best thing I have. I won’t experiment with it.”
I blinked. I folded myself into the armchair.
“Jesus, Bill. That’s almost airtight. How am I to argue with that?”
His shoulders slumped. He swirled his whiskey in his glass.
“Look at me, Billy.”
It took him a moment, but he turned his head.
“Listen, I’m a sure thing, Bill. I love you. I’ll never stop. Don’t heap the failures of your old loves on me. I. Will. Never. Stop. Loving. You. They’ll put the nails in my coffin and I’ll still love you. I know it.”
“What if it turns awkward?”
“Then we’ll be awkward! It’s already uncomfortable and I still love you. In five minutes I’ll kick your arse and tell you snap out of it. It’s just me. I’ll always be just me. You can love me or hate me and I’ll always be me. And I’ll always love you. It’s just something I know. Trust me.”
He shook himself and swallowed the whiskey in his glass. He looked out the window.
“I wanted snow.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to erase myself. I wanted to start over. I wanted it to be okay.”
I smiled. “It’s okay.”
He smiled back. “I feel like I could sleep for a long time. I haven’t been sleeping. But I could, I think, with you there.”
I slapped my thighs. “Maybe you just need to be loved.”
“By you?” his voice was gentle.
“By me.”
He rose from the couch and crossed the room to stand before my chair.
“One more step and I’ll be…”
“Closer to home than you’ve ever been before.”
“You always know what I’m going to say.”
“I’m all tangled up with you.”
“Poor you,” he said.
He sat on my thighs. He played with my hair. He looked at me long and hard.
I sat there and looked steadily back at him. There are times when you can’t cry even though you must.
“Don’t cry,” he said.
“I didn’t. I’m not.”
“You’re trying really hard,” he said.
He kissed me.
I stopped trying to hold anything back then. I sobbed into his mouth.
“Stop, I’m sorry. I’m here now.”
I was all white and shaking.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You will be,” he said. He kissed me again.
d/b
Disclaimer: This is fiction
He walked down the stairs ahead of me. I studied the back of his perfect little head. He was smiling, jabbering. His hair stuck out all over. I wanted to touch him. I had this little ache in my breast bone, like I needed his head nuzzled there. I waited until we got to the landing before pulling him back against me. His head felt right nestled against my chest, a warm, comforting weight. I didn’t want to let him go.
He smiled up at me, his face shining. I smiled back, held him a second longer than was absolutely necessary and then let him go. We walked out into the rain.
I pulled my hood up and, when he didn’t do the same, I pulled his up for him. He went and stood in a puddle, defying my over-protectiveness.
“Twit,” I said.
His foot swept out sending up such a spray that I felt water mist my face.
“Fucker,” I said.
He put on a pout and I wanted to kiss it. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about kissing him but it was the first time I’d thought about seriously enough that I nearly acted on it. Sprinkles of cold fire ran down my spine. I turned away, mopped my face and then held it up to the clean rain.
“You’ll get hypothermia. You should go back and change your socks.”
“I don’t get hypothermia.”
“Anyone can get it.”
“Not me. I’m immune. I’ve built up an immunity to it.”
Everything he did that day was a delight. He had to go the loo four times during the course of one beer. It made me giggle to think of him gone all malfunctioning. He came back once with his shirt tail untucked. I reached out to tuck it in for him, remembered myself and nicked one of his cigarettes instead.
“You’ve got your own.”
“Yours taste better.”
“Because they’re free, you mean.”
“Because they’re yours.”
Next he came back with his fly open. I didn’t want to tell him. I wanted to stare. In the end I told him. I had to. I had to let him know that I saw, that I noticed him, that I was looking out for him.
He didn’t fix his zipper. He leaned back in the booth, shook a cigarette from the box, fiddled with it.
“Fix it for me. I’m lazy.”
He managed to look incredibly bored. The pulse point on his neck betrayed him. I managed to smile. I threw a napkin at his face. He ducked, smiled, and fixed his trousers.
~*~
“Why have we never misbehaved?”
“What are you talking about? You never behave.”
“Don’t be dense. It doesn’t become you.”
Billy sighed and pushed himself away from the window. He had been watching the clouds hanging over the city. He looked tired.
“I wish it would snow. I wish it would rain or something. I feel…stretched. I wish it would thunder snow, just…fucking…bury us. Bury me.” He sighed again and lit a cigarette. “I want four feet of snow, everything to just shut down.”
I didn’t know what to say. I sat up straighter in my chair. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You’re meant to ask why.”
“Why?”
He just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I need a nap.”
“You look tired.”
“I wish it would…”
“Snow.”
“Everything’s so brown and dead. I need a …”
“Release.”
“No, shut up. You don’t know everything I’m going to say.”
“Sorry, do go on.”
“I don’t know what I need. I need a clean slate or…some fucking thing.”
He closed his eyes. I slapped my thighs.
“Come sit. Come sit on me. Maybe you just need to be loved.”
“By you?” He looked incredulous.
“Why not?”
He shrugged again and bit his thumbnail.
“You’re not going to let me in, are you?”
He feigned ignorance for a second or two, but then had the decency to hang his head and look away.
“It’s okay,” I said gently. I got to my feet, gathered my keys and jacket. “I hope it snows,” I said as I shut the door behind me.
~*~
The rest of that weekend was so quiet. The phone was silent. I guess the long hours of filming and then partying every weekend had caught up to everyone all at once. Elijah emailed me on Sunday morning.
I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over 24 hours. I’ve finally done laundry. And just slept, man. Just slept and slept. Don’t reply. I’m still too tired to decipher your typing. Hope you’re well, buddy. See you tomorrow.
I tried to be productive, tried to read and write and get myself organized, but there was this deep sigh in me that I couldn’t get out. I slept most of Sunday too.
~*~
“Holy shit.”
“Biggest fucking snowflakes I’ve ever seen.”
“Right, we’re going to pack up.”
I huddled. I picked glue out of my ears and watched the tremendous sighs cloud out of my mouth.
“Do we have everyone? Where’s Pippin?”
“What?” I looked around.
“Pippin. Billy…or Dom, whichever one you’re not. Where is he?”
“Oh…I…I’m on it.” I left the tent.
He was standing in some shrubbery, his face turned toward the sky, his arms held out to receive the snow. He was radiant. I didn’t want to disturb him.
“Bill.”
He didn’t answer.
“Billy, it’s time to go.”
“I know.” He still didn’t move.
I stood there too, mesmerized by the falling snow.
“Do you feel better?”
He turned then. His eyes were full of tears but he blinked them away.
“Just being foolish,” he said.
He came with me then. On the ride back to town he allowed himself to sleep. His head rested on my shoulder. I didn’t sleep. I wanted to remember it.
~*~
I still have my journals from those months and at times I was so frustrated that my pen left indents on the page. Even to this day I can still feel the lines there, like scars. I never reproached him.
You see, for all my frustration I had a peace that wasn’t granted to Billy. I was certain of my heart. I watched him daily as he struggled to find peace with his own. It was torturous. There were times when I wanted to say, “It’s okay. You don’t have to love me. Just let it go.” There were times when I wanted to disappear, to erase myself from his memory so he could go on, blissfully unaware. Love has a price.
~*~
There was another snow storm that year. It was one of those spring storms that makes you want to book a flight on the next plane to Tahiti. I watched the cars fishtail up the street for awhile. I sipped a beer and wondered if I should get really shit-faced. There was a knock at the door.
It was Billy. He was all bundled up and holding a six pack and bag of groceries.
“I walked,” was all he said.
I helped him off with his coat and hat. His hair was plastered to his head and his cheeks were ten different shades of pink.
“You look really pretty,” I said.
He gave me the finger and snapped open a beer. He downed half of it in one swallow before kicking off his boots.
“Fuck, my feet are numb. Fucking hurts.”
“Stay here,” I said.
I filled a basin with warm water and brought it into the living room.
“Take your socks off.”
I went to the kitchen and downed a shot of whiskey while he warmed his feet. I poured another and one for him and brought them back to the living room.
He smiled and threw it down his throat.
“I should have bought more beer.”
“I’ve plenty. Am I meant to ask why you need it?”
He took his feet out of the water and dried them on the towel I’d left him.
“Billy?”
He looked wretched. He picked up his empty tumbler and looked sorrowfully at it. I went back to the kitchen and grabbed the whiskey bottle. Poured him another.
He sipped it with his eyes closed. He didn’t open them.
“I can never love you the way you want me to, Dom.”
It was a lie, but a punch to the gut nonetheless. I took it in silence.
“That’s what you walked through a blizzard to tell me? Knowing you’d be stranded here?”
He opened his eyes then. It pained me to look at them but I didn’t look away. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe. I had to feel every bit of his heartache. That’s what it means to love someone. I fucking wanted to feel it. I wanted to be all mixed up with him. He was breaking for me and I couldn’t tell if I was anguished or exhilarated.
He looked steadily at me.
“The thing is, Dom. The thing is…you have to be in my life forever. I can’t let you go. I’m a very good friend and I can keep you as a friend forever. I know I can. I won’t risk the best thing I have. I won’t experiment with it.”
I blinked. I folded myself into the armchair.
“Jesus, Bill. That’s almost airtight. How am I to argue with that?”
His shoulders slumped. He swirled his whiskey in his glass.
“Look at me, Billy.”
It took him a moment, but he turned his head.
“Listen, I’m a sure thing, Bill. I love you. I’ll never stop. Don’t heap the failures of your old loves on me. I. Will. Never. Stop. Loving. You. They’ll put the nails in my coffin and I’ll still love you. I know it.”
“What if it turns awkward?”
“Then we’ll be awkward! It’s already uncomfortable and I still love you. In five minutes I’ll kick your arse and tell you snap out of it. It’s just me. I’ll always be just me. You can love me or hate me and I’ll always be me. And I’ll always love you. It’s just something I know. Trust me.”
He shook himself and swallowed the whiskey in his glass. He looked out the window.
“I wanted snow.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to erase myself. I wanted to start over. I wanted it to be okay.”
I smiled. “It’s okay.”
He smiled back. “I feel like I could sleep for a long time. I haven’t been sleeping. But I could, I think, with you there.”
I slapped my thighs. “Maybe you just need to be loved.”
“By you?” his voice was gentle.
“By me.”
He rose from the couch and crossed the room to stand before my chair.
“One more step and I’ll be…”
“Closer to home than you’ve ever been before.”
“You always know what I’m going to say.”
“I’m all tangled up with you.”
“Poor you,” he said.
He sat on my thighs. He played with my hair. He looked at me long and hard.
I sat there and looked steadily back at him. There are times when you can’t cry even though you must.
“Don’t cry,” he said.
“I didn’t. I’m not.”
“You’re trying really hard,” he said.
He kissed me.
I stopped trying to hold anything back then. I sobbed into his mouth.
“Stop, I’m sorry. I’m here now.”
I was all white and shaking.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You will be,” he said. He kissed me again.
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From:
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“Listen, I’m a sure thing, Bill. I love you. I’ll never stop. Don’t heap the failures of your old loves on me. I. Will. Never. Stop. Loving. You. They’ll put the nails in my coffin and I’ll still love you. I know it.”
That was so poignant and real. So touching.
*loves*
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The fact that Dom cried at the end...*Snuggles them*
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::clutches heart::
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That was just too wondeful, for my little heart.
I'm in love with every single one of your fictions.
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thanks, chum
*hearts;♥♥
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From: (Anonymous)
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You're fic is AMAZING! Every bit of it.
You're a great writer, and Billy and Dom were so alive with personality. I LOVED the entire Billy can't find a way to let himself love Dom the way Dom wishes he could, or the way Dom loves Billy. It wasn't automatically mutual like so many Billy/Dom fics. are about.
It wasn't graphic, either, and sometimes those aren't as interesting to read, but this one still kept my attention and the kiss in the end was perfect - and the crying... I'm gonna be thinking about this all night.
Ah, I love the "snow" thing too.
All right, I could go on and on, but I'll stop. *Thank you!!!*