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monaboyd Oct. 3rd, 2007 07:00 am)
dylan-dufresne.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Oct. 3rd, 2007 07:00 am)Title: Ardent Spirits - 5/6
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dylan_dufresne
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-ish
Summary: An exploration of friendship though various types of alcohol.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice. Many thanks tosurreality_fan for stepping in to be my temp-beta.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. This is my imagination at work.
A/N: A huge thanks tosurreality_fan for letting me borrow her theory, and for brainstorming with me. :::squishes you:::
Previous Chapters: Beer | Wine | ...cooler | Tequila
Thursday - Rum
Thanks to innumerable mornings of waking early for Feet, out of habit, Billy starts to rise to consciousness before the alarm clock jars him awake. It’s still dark outside, because sunrise is hours away, as he opens his eyes and gingerly turns his head from side to side. Not bad, considering the tequila he’d ingested the night before. Dom is out cold beside him, presenting Billy with the perfect opportunity to slip into the shower and get himself together. Unless Billy’s guess is way off, Dom’s going to be hurting when he awakens and will need Billy’s help.
Slipping soundlessly out from under the warm coverlet, Billy winces at the chill in the air and sucks in a quick breath as he hurries out of the bedroom and disappears into the loo. Amid a jaw splitting yawn, the shower is turned on, and as the water heats up, Billy scrubs a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up. Rumpled clothing is discarded, and Billy sighs as he steps under the soothing spray, a cocoon of warmth enveloping him.
It’s after Billy ducks his head under the shower head to wet his hair that he licks his parched lips, and an instant later, the events of last night come rushing back, his breath catching at the memory of Dom’s incendiary tongue sliding into his mouth. The memories hit him one after another, the tequila, playing truth or dare, the body shots, licking Dom’s beloved belly, laying in bed together, and the kiss that only ended when Dom passed out.
I kissed my best mate last night, Billy realizes, and in the other room, an oblivious Dom is still sleeping, starkers beneath the coverlet.
The water pouring over Billy suddenly feels chilly, the tiles cold, and even though he knows he’s alone, Billy feels the urge to cover himself. He and Dom both had too much to drink last night at Viggo’s, and today they have to deal with the consequences of their actions.
After twisting off the taps and ceasing the torrent of water, Billy quickly and clinically dries himself with a towel before pulling his discarded clothes back on. He turns off the light as he opens the door, hoping that his shower hasn’t disturbed Dom, and is relieved when he enters the bedroom and finds the younger man still fast asleep.
Billy perches on the edge of the bed, a small hand gripping a handful of sheet and coverlet as he anxiously gnaws on his lower lip. He’s not sure what to do. Lay down? Get dressed? Wait in the kitchen for Dom to awaken? A glance at the clock on the nightstand informs Billy that he doesn’t have long to decide. Less than five minutes.
Releasing the material he’s been holding, Billy reaches over to the sleeping man, ever so gently drawing the tousled strands of hair off Dom’s face. Memories of last night wash over him again, just like in the shower, and the urge to lean in closer is almost overwhelming. Unable to stop himself, Billy slips under the coverlet and settles on the mattress beside Dom, taking comfort in the familiar. He’s gotten used to sharing his sleeping space with Dom. It feels natural. Not wanting to deprive Dom of the last few minutes of sleep, Billy forces himself to lie still, and closes his eyes, wondering what’s going to happen when Dom awakens.
The first sound Billy hears, after the piercing ringing of the alarm clock, is a whimpering groan from the man lying next to him, followed by a grunt when the offending item is silenced with a slap.
“Dom?”
“Mmm. Need to piss,” Dom mumbles in reply before sliding out of bed and weaving towards the door to the hall, apparently unaware or not caring in the least that he’s completely starkers.
Billy rubs a hand over his face and smoothes down his damp hair, and when he hears the shower turn on, decides to get dressed while Dom is otherwise engaged. Since his head is a wee bit on the sore side, thanks to last night’s indulging, he wanders out to the kitchen and downs a full glass of water while waiting for the kettle to come to a boil. Food isn’t that appealing at the moment, but tea will likely calm his stomach until he’s ready to attempt to eat. Even though Billy tries to keep his mind busy, memories of last night keep popping up, refusing to let the night remain in the past. Billy remembers Dom’s blue-grey eyes as he leaned in and licked the salt from Billy’s neck, how his small hands deftly pushed up Dom’s t-shirt to reveal his beloved belly, the taste of Dom’s skin against his pointy tongue, and how similar it was to the intoxicating flavor of his mouth.
The shower shutting off throws the small flat into a strange silence, and suddenly, Billy can hear himself breathe, his heartbeat unusually loud. Needing sound, he refills the glass of water and finds a bottle of Paracetamol in the cupboard next to the fridge, smiling ruefully to himself at the realization that he knows Dom’s kitchen almost as well as his own. Billy gives his head a shake in a last attempt to clear his mind as he pours some hot water into a mug, and lets the tea bag steep while he listens to Dom move about down the hall. He’s absently stirring some honey into the fragrant liquid when Dom shuffles into the room, stifling a yawn as he tugs a t-shirt over his head, his lower half covered with a pair of well worn denims.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Dom rasps in reply, a frown marring his features.
“Here,” Billy says softly, handing the younger man the glass of water and pointing at the bottle of pills. “Thought you might need those.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Dom moans. “My head is pounding.”
“The water will help.”
Uncertainty causes Billy’s stomach to twist, and he wonders what Dom is thinking about, if they should talk about the kiss, ignore it, or what.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Dom comments with a second yawn, reaching over to twist on the faucet, filling his glass with more water. “Headache?”
“Just a wee bit.”
An awkward lull stretches out between them, and Billy shifts from one foot to the other, searching his mind for something to say; a way to bring up what happened last night. They should talk about it, shouldn’t they?
“So, uh, was I a complete wanker last night?” Dom asks hesitantly, the uneasiness clear in his tone.
Billy arches an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”
“Not really,” Dom admits. “Tequila and I have a troubled relationship. It’s kinda like the bloke who slaps his girlfriend around when he’s drunk off his arse and then in the morning he promises it’ll never happen again, but you know it will. We really shouldn’t mix.”
“Ah.”
“Was I an arse?” Dom presses, bracing himself for the answer.
“No, you weren’t,” Billy replies quietly. “Drink up. We need to get going.”
“So what did I do last night?” Dom asks as Billy takes a sip of his tea.
“Nothing too embarrassing,” Billy tells him, mentally giving the memory of their kiss a swift shove to the back of his mind. “We played truth or dare. You and I did body shots, and Vig called it a night shortly after that.”
“Body- Off each other?” Dom inquires with wide eyes.
“Hobbits stick together,” Billy says mildly, glad he was the one to tell Dom, so it won’t be a shock when the others mention it, as he’s sure they will. If he makes light of it, then chances are, so will Dom, no matter what he’s told. “You were pretty out of it, so I brought you home, and we crashed.”
“Thanks.”
“We better go,” Billy says after glancing at the clock. “Don’t want to be late for Feet.”
“Yeah.”
Little is said as Billy drives them to set and they arrive at the trailer to be transformed into characters from Middle Earth for the next fourteen hours or so. Even though the Paracetamol is helping, Dom’s head is still throbbing a bit, and he’s relieved when Elijah is in similar condition, so the stereo system that is usually blaring loud music is blissfully silent today. Nearly an hour has passed before Dom realizes that Billy is not quite himself, and a distance is widening between them. Normally they talk while being glued and wigged, but this morning Billy is reading a book and has only looked up once, when Sean asked him a question directly. What’s most disconcerting to Dom is that Billy appears to be avoiding him, as subtly as possible, trying not to draw attention to that fact.
In recent months, especially in the last few days, Dom has noticed that he and Billy have been getting closer, almost inseparable at times, and not just when they’re on set. He’s made no secret of how he rather enjoys Billy’s company, the ease in which they’ve become such good friends, and he’s come to depend on that friendship on his bad days. It was Billy who looked after him when he got sunburned, and Dom never considered anyone else for the role. New Zealand is a long way from home, and Billy appears to have a knack for knowing just when Dom needs to be distracted, or given a hug and a kind word. All that seems to be fading away now, right before Dom’s eyes, and he feels utterly helpless to stop it.
Billy is completely oblivious to Dom’s distress, as he’s having problems of his own. No matter how hard he concentrates on his book, desperately attempting to distract himself, inappropriate thoughts keep pushing their way into his consciousness. He’s read the same paragraph six times now, and keeps losing his place because of the memory of Dom’s soft mouth pressed against his, what Dom’s bare skin felt like against his fingertips as they kissed, and the sounds he made when their tongues touched. It would seem that the events of last night are fast becoming his own private hell, especially since Dom doesn’t remember a thing about what happened. It’s up to Billy to find a way to move past it; forget that it ever happened.
Part of Dom wants to ask what’s causing the distance between him and Billy, but the coward in him knows that it must have something to do with last night – or the last few days. He’s been rather high-maintenance, he knows, but that’s not how he normally is. Sure, he and Billy have shared a bed after an evening of indulging from time to time. They’ve spent enough nights in Elijah’s spare room to call it theirs, but those occurrences don’t usually happen in succession. This week, Billy’s spent more time in Dom’s bed than his own. Maybe that’s the problem, Dom theorizes. Billy wants some privacy, a night to himself. That’s not too much to ask, so why not just say it? Anything is better than this silence.
“Who wants to hang out at the pub tonight?” Elijah asks, as though reading Dom’s mind. “There’s supposed to be a good band playing.”
“Sounds good,” Sean replies, and then closes his eyes as he yawns. “But no tequila.”
“Agreed,” Billy adds. “Count me in.”
“Dom?” Elijah prompts. “Do you want to come with us?”
“Probably not,” Billy interrupts to add, keeping his eyes on the paperback in his hands, anxiety rising up in him at the thought of Dom getting drunk again, and a repeat performance of last night’s events. “Tequila made for a rough night.”
It takes all of Dom’s control not to demand what he’s done to warrant being told that he shouldn’t go out tonight, like he’s a teenager who broke curfew and needs to be punished, even though he has to admit to himself that he’s already exhausted.
Elijah looks disappointed. “Oh, well I guess-”
“I’ll be there,” Dom interjects firmly. “Looking forward to it.”
Slumping down in his chair, Dom waits for Billy to lean over so they can talk quietly, as they have dozens of times before, but this time, Billy shrugs indifferently and returns his attention to his book. The careless action is as if Dom’s been struck, and misery begins to overtake him, only adding to the tequila induced headache he’s already suffering with. By the time they’re released from the make up chairs and instructed to change into their costumes, Dom’s convinced that he must have done something last night bordering on unforgivable, and wishes that he’d never taken a bloody sip of alcohol last night.
To Billy’s dismay, Dom’s lithe body and innocently sensuous mouth continues to invade his thoughts, and as fantasies of what could’ve been roll over him in waves, he fights hard to control his breathing. The images in his mind are having a pronounced effect on his body, and Billy is grateful for the fact that he’s not standing at the moment, because that would certainly give him away. In an effort to reassert his control, he tries to imagine the most unappealing things he can think of, and is relieved when the pressure in his trousers begins to ease. Things will get better, Billy tells himself. It’ll just take a few days for the memory of the kiss to fade.
It’s then that Billy makes the mistake of glancing to his right, just in time to catch Dom gnawing on his pouty lower lip, reddening the sensuous curve, causing Billy to revise his theory.
Okay. Maybe it’ll take a wee bit longer. A week.
The time spent waiting for the next shot to be set up seems endless, Dom inconspicuously keeping to himself, sipping honey-sweetened tea to soothe his upset stomach. Everyone assumes that it's because of last night, but in truth, it's Billy's distance that's causing him the discomfort. Part of him knows it’s silly to have anxiety about something so simple, but considering how close he and Billy have become, Dom can’t help it. More than anything, he wishes he could go back and change it, undo whatever he did, so they can go back to talking, laughing and taking the piss. Dom misses that so much more than he ever thought possible.
During a break between scenes, Billy escapes into the trailer he and Dom share for some warmth and quiet, so he can take a nap. He’s having trouble concentrating today, is having work harder at it, and accordingly, he needs more rest to recharge his batteries. He’s on the edge of sleep when the trailer door opens, but rather than opening his eyes to see who’s there, to his shame, Billy pretends to be sleeping. The visitor doesn’t say a word, but doesn’t leave either, so Billy adds a whistling snore to convince them that he’s not awake. A heavy sigh fills the quiet, and then the door closes again, leaving Billy alone. Internally, the Scotsman cringes, because he’d know that voice anywhere, even when it’s just a rush of air. Dom.
Rolling onto his side, Billy presses his face into his pillow for a moment, only to pull back when he realizes that it smells like Dom. It would seem that no matter where he goes, no matter what he does, Dom is there. Until today, he hadn’t realized just how entwined their lives have become, even more than he thought they would, considering they work together, play cousins on screen. It’s felt good, having a close mate, someone who needs him, someone who would be there for him in a heartbeat.
Maybe that’s why he didn’t pull away when Dom kissed him last night. When he really thinks about it, is honest with himself, the intimate contact wasn’t that strange. It was quite lovely, actually, kissing Dom, except that they’re best mates, and this could fuck things up between them but good. There’s a lot of film left to be shot, and the idea of things being awkward with Dom for all that time is depressing. It’s better that they be distant for a short spell while Billy gets his hormones under control, and then they can go back to being Dom and Billy. Billy‘n’Dom. Best mates.
Satisfied with his plan and reasoning, Billy finally lets his eyes close, and quickly surrenders to sleep, only to be tormented by erotic images of a naked Dom sprawled on his bed, writhing and begging for Billy’s touch. This time, there’s no ordering his arousal to go away, and Billy is forced to take the matter in hand, so to speak, with a quick wank in the loo before being called back to set.
Just over twelve, excruciatingly uncomfortable hours in his fat suit, they are wrapped for the day, and Dom all but bolts from the Feet trailer after being freed of his prosthetics. He’s changed into his regular clothes and is walking away from the trailer he shares with Billy when the older man arrives, and refuses to look back. They’d spoken very little, other than when the cameras were rolling, and then it was short and uncomfortable, completely unlike what they’ve become used to.
The quiet and distance between them has only grown as the day dragged on, and right now, all Dom wants to do is go home, where he doesn’t have to pretend that he’s not hurting. Normally after a lousy day, he’d whinge to Billy, but that’s definitely not going to happen tonight. Others in the Fellowship have noticed that not all is fair and rosy between the friends, and it was Sean who quietly offered Dom a ride home, knowing that he had arrived with Billy this morning. With downcast eyes, Dom had gratefully accepted.
Part of Dom wants to blow off going to the pub tonight, since he knows Billy will likely be there, but Elijah had suggested it, and it really does sound like it could be fun. Also, it’s a pub, which means there will be alcohol. Drowning his sorrows with good music sounds a lot less pathetic than sitting in front of the telly and getting sloshed all by himself, Dom decides as he gets out of the shower and wraps a towel around his narrow hips. Maybe Billy will decide not to go after all.
Dom’s brave façade lasts until he walks into the somewhat crowded pub and spots Billy’s familiar ginger hair, his back to the door as he talks animatedly with Elijah and Orlando. Then Dom makes a beeline for the bar to procure some liquid courage before he’s spotted, noticing that the three men already have glasses in front of them. The ache in his chest that Dom had managed to push aside while showering is back with a vengeance, and now he craves the numbing effects of alcohol, not caring that he’ll likely end up with yet another hangover. What can he say, he’s had a shite week.
“What’ll you have?” the bartender asks, pulling Dom from his troubled thoughts.
“Mix whatever’s in your hand with coke,” Dom replies firmly, nodding at the bottle of dark rum in the older man’s grip. “And make it a double.”
When Dom sinks down into a chair across from Elijah a few minutes later, his glass is half empty, and the rush of alcohol into his system has taken the edge off his anxiety.
“There you are,” Elijah says brightly. “We were going to order you a beer, but-”
“I’m fine with this,” Dom replies, drawing on acting abilities he didn’t know he had and plastering on a smile. “This was a good idea, Lij. I’m glad you said something.”
“Thanks.”
“When does-”
The sound of a guitar causes Dom to look over his shoulder, and he gets the answer to his question. It would seem that he arrived just in time, and the band Elijah had been raving about over lunch is about to start. Dom’s relieved, because it means he won’t have to struggle through small talk with Billy, who has been very careful to only look at Dom peripherally. No direct eye contact, but not outright ignoring him either. For those reasons, an entertainment act is an excellent idea. Within a few minutes, the music being piped through the pub’s sound system is replaced by the band on the stage, and Dom is grateful for the distraction. It didn’t escape his attention that the moment he arrived, Billy’s mood changed, and that he’s now sitting back from the table, spending an inordinate amount of time studying the tumbler cradled in his hand.
While part of Dom wants to dive into his drink, he makes the conscious choice to sip it slowly, so he’ll remain in control of his faculties. He certainly can’t count on Billy to look out for him tonight, not with how things are right now. Even with the band offering some relief from the tension at the table, Dom is relieved when Elijah gets antsy, and declares that he wants to go dance. Needing some physical distance between Billy and himself, Dom joins the American, and they stay out on the dance floor until the set is finished, and both are parched. A stop is made at the bar to get fresh drinks, and Dom is sliding into his seat when Billy abruptly pushes back from the table.
“I’m going to head home, I think,” Billy offers as explanation, taking care to not make eye contact with Dom. “It’s been a long day.”
Anger flares in Dom’s belly at Billy, knowing that he is the reason for the Scotsman’s early departure. He’ll be blamed, whether the words are spoken aloud or not. Sean and Elijah aren’t stupid. He’d hoped that they’d talk tonight, get things resolved, but that hope is fading fast, especially with Billy all but running away.
“Billy, it’s still early,” Elijah protests, not even trying to hide his disappointment. “They’re going to play another set.”
“Sorry, Lij. See you tomorrow.”
Mouth agape, Dom watches the older man grab his jacket off the back of his chair before making his way through the crowd to the front door. It’s not until Billy disappears from sight that Dom hits his breaking point, everything that happened today igniting as though it’s been doused in gasoline, and he’s on his feet and chasing after Billy before the thought even registers in his mind.
“Dom-”
Sean hushes Elijah’s protest, and watches until the door closes behind Dom.
“What is going on with them?” Elijah muses aloud.
“I wish I knew,” Sean comments. “Here’s hoping they deal with it. Soon.”
Walking away from the pub at an unhurried pace, Billy shoves his hands in his pockets, mind jumbled with conflicting thoughts. At first he’d been relieved when Dom decided to go dance with Elijah, and then he’d been entranced, watching the younger man move to the music. Only then did Billy realize just how attractive Dom’s slender body is, how freely he moves, and how uninhibited he is with his emotions in that state. It brought back all the memories of last night, his fantasizes today, and made his body ache with want that Billy never knew existed until today.
So distracted by his inner torment, Billy fails to hear the quick footsteps behind him, and is more than a wee bit surprised when he’s pulled to a stop by a hand on his shoulder.
“Dom?”
“We need to talk.”
Swallowing hard and eyeing the people walking by, Billy moves to his left, leaning against the corner of a brick building.
“What do we need to talk about?” he asks mildly.
“Are you bloody well kidding me?” Dom asks in shock.
“Dom, I’m tired, so-”
“I’m sick of this,” Dom declares, the frustration making his body vibrate. “All day it’s been . . . You’ve been avoiding me.”
“We’ve been on set all day,” Billy protests awkwardly, shrugging as though to make light of Dom’s concerns. “We were together in every scene we shot.”
“And you’ve hated every second of it,” Dom fires back. “You couldn’t wait to get away from me. You even pretended to be asleep in the trailer so you wouldn’t have to talk to me.”
“I was tired, Dom,” Billy says, averting his gaze when guilt washes over him, realizing that he didn’t fool anyone. “I’m still tired; completely knackered, to be perfectly honest. I want to go home. We’re filming tomorrow.”
“Will you just tell me what I did?” Dom pleads, traitorous tears welling up in his eyes, despite his best efforts to keep the deep hurt from being revealed. “How can I apologize and try to make amends for something that I can’t remember, that you insist didn’t happen, when it clearly did?”
“Dom, just let it go,” Billy tells him. “It’s been a long week; you’re tired and drunk-”
“I’m not fucking drunk!” Dom yells heatedly, not caring that anyone walking by can hear him. “I know I’m hardly the poster child for sobriety this week, but I’ve had one drink tonight, and I’ve been sipping it for the last two hours.”
Billy has the decency to look contrite. “Sorry.”
“Fucking hell, Bills,” Dom adds, quieter now. “I miss my best mate, and I’m trying to fix whatever I did that made it go so wrong. I thought you’d want that, too.”
“What I want?” Billy repeats in disbelief, fervently wishing more than ever that he was a better actor, so he could’ve spared Dom this distress.
“I’m tired of chasing after you, and feeling like this,” Dom finishes, shaking his head sadly. “If you can’t be honest with me, well then, I guess we weren’t nearly as good of friends as I thought we were. I’ll see you on set.”
With his head down, Dom turns on his heel to leave, only to be stopped by Billy’s small hand shooting out to grip his bicep. Before Dom can say anything, even think about the words, he’s jerked forward, causing him to stumble awkwardly and he ends up falling into Billy’s embrace. A strong arm winds around his torso, and a moment later, soft, bow-shaped lips are being pressed to his in a hungry kiss. The touch is so unexpected that Dom gasps, and Billy seizes the opportunity to slide his tongue between the parted lips, his free hand cupping the back of Dom’s head to keep him close as they sink into one another.
It’s long moments later that Dom feels a scraping against his back, and he opens his eyes long enough to realize that Billy has smoothly guided them into the alley, for a wee bit more privacy as they continue to kiss. With bodies pressed together from nose to knees, Dom finds his legs shaking, his heart suddenly racing, and he’s whimpering at the relentless, tender onslaught of Billy’s passion. By the time they break for much needed oxygen, Dom’s arms are wound around the older man’s trim frame, fisting handfuls of his hunter green shirt, causing the cotton to wrinkle.
Panting for breath, Dom can’t speak, too stunned at what has just happened; that Billy pinned him against the wall and kissed him. He’s just snogged his best mate, and Dom desperately wants to do it again. It’s not a dream; of that, he is sure. Billy kissed him. Beyond that, there’s only one thought that is coherent, one thing that he knows, with absolute certainty.
“That’s not the first time we’ve kissed,” Dom murmurs hoarsely, gazing at the other man reverently, not even attempting to hide his emotions.
A lazy, intimate smile turns up the corners of Billy’s mouth as he licks his rosy lips, and then he replies, “You taste like rum this time.”
* ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *
Part 6 - Scotch
Author:
dylan_dufresne Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-ish
Summary: An exploration of friendship though various types of alcohol.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice. Many thanks to
surreality_fan for stepping in to be my temp-beta.Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. This is my imagination at work.
A/N: A huge thanks to
surreality_fan for letting me borrow her theory, and for brainstorming with me. :::squishes you:::Previous Chapters: Beer | Wine | ...cooler | Tequila
Thursday - Rum
Thanks to innumerable mornings of waking early for Feet, out of habit, Billy starts to rise to consciousness before the alarm clock jars him awake. It’s still dark outside, because sunrise is hours away, as he opens his eyes and gingerly turns his head from side to side. Not bad, considering the tequila he’d ingested the night before. Dom is out cold beside him, presenting Billy with the perfect opportunity to slip into the shower and get himself together. Unless Billy’s guess is way off, Dom’s going to be hurting when he awakens and will need Billy’s help.
Slipping soundlessly out from under the warm coverlet, Billy winces at the chill in the air and sucks in a quick breath as he hurries out of the bedroom and disappears into the loo. Amid a jaw splitting yawn, the shower is turned on, and as the water heats up, Billy scrubs a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up. Rumpled clothing is discarded, and Billy sighs as he steps under the soothing spray, a cocoon of warmth enveloping him.
It’s after Billy ducks his head under the shower head to wet his hair that he licks his parched lips, and an instant later, the events of last night come rushing back, his breath catching at the memory of Dom’s incendiary tongue sliding into his mouth. The memories hit him one after another, the tequila, playing truth or dare, the body shots, licking Dom’s beloved belly, laying in bed together, and the kiss that only ended when Dom passed out.
I kissed my best mate last night, Billy realizes, and in the other room, an oblivious Dom is still sleeping, starkers beneath the coverlet.
The water pouring over Billy suddenly feels chilly, the tiles cold, and even though he knows he’s alone, Billy feels the urge to cover himself. He and Dom both had too much to drink last night at Viggo’s, and today they have to deal with the consequences of their actions.
After twisting off the taps and ceasing the torrent of water, Billy quickly and clinically dries himself with a towel before pulling his discarded clothes back on. He turns off the light as he opens the door, hoping that his shower hasn’t disturbed Dom, and is relieved when he enters the bedroom and finds the younger man still fast asleep.
Billy perches on the edge of the bed, a small hand gripping a handful of sheet and coverlet as he anxiously gnaws on his lower lip. He’s not sure what to do. Lay down? Get dressed? Wait in the kitchen for Dom to awaken? A glance at the clock on the nightstand informs Billy that he doesn’t have long to decide. Less than five minutes.
Releasing the material he’s been holding, Billy reaches over to the sleeping man, ever so gently drawing the tousled strands of hair off Dom’s face. Memories of last night wash over him again, just like in the shower, and the urge to lean in closer is almost overwhelming. Unable to stop himself, Billy slips under the coverlet and settles on the mattress beside Dom, taking comfort in the familiar. He’s gotten used to sharing his sleeping space with Dom. It feels natural. Not wanting to deprive Dom of the last few minutes of sleep, Billy forces himself to lie still, and closes his eyes, wondering what’s going to happen when Dom awakens.
The first sound Billy hears, after the piercing ringing of the alarm clock, is a whimpering groan from the man lying next to him, followed by a grunt when the offending item is silenced with a slap.
“Dom?”
“Mmm. Need to piss,” Dom mumbles in reply before sliding out of bed and weaving towards the door to the hall, apparently unaware or not caring in the least that he’s completely starkers.
Billy rubs a hand over his face and smoothes down his damp hair, and when he hears the shower turn on, decides to get dressed while Dom is otherwise engaged. Since his head is a wee bit on the sore side, thanks to last night’s indulging, he wanders out to the kitchen and downs a full glass of water while waiting for the kettle to come to a boil. Food isn’t that appealing at the moment, but tea will likely calm his stomach until he’s ready to attempt to eat. Even though Billy tries to keep his mind busy, memories of last night keep popping up, refusing to let the night remain in the past. Billy remembers Dom’s blue-grey eyes as he leaned in and licked the salt from Billy’s neck, how his small hands deftly pushed up Dom’s t-shirt to reveal his beloved belly, the taste of Dom’s skin against his pointy tongue, and how similar it was to the intoxicating flavor of his mouth.
The shower shutting off throws the small flat into a strange silence, and suddenly, Billy can hear himself breathe, his heartbeat unusually loud. Needing sound, he refills the glass of water and finds a bottle of Paracetamol in the cupboard next to the fridge, smiling ruefully to himself at the realization that he knows Dom’s kitchen almost as well as his own. Billy gives his head a shake in a last attempt to clear his mind as he pours some hot water into a mug, and lets the tea bag steep while he listens to Dom move about down the hall. He’s absently stirring some honey into the fragrant liquid when Dom shuffles into the room, stifling a yawn as he tugs a t-shirt over his head, his lower half covered with a pair of well worn denims.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Dom rasps in reply, a frown marring his features.
“Here,” Billy says softly, handing the younger man the glass of water and pointing at the bottle of pills. “Thought you might need those.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Dom moans. “My head is pounding.”
“The water will help.”
Uncertainty causes Billy’s stomach to twist, and he wonders what Dom is thinking about, if they should talk about the kiss, ignore it, or what.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Dom comments with a second yawn, reaching over to twist on the faucet, filling his glass with more water. “Headache?”
“Just a wee bit.”
An awkward lull stretches out between them, and Billy shifts from one foot to the other, searching his mind for something to say; a way to bring up what happened last night. They should talk about it, shouldn’t they?
“So, uh, was I a complete wanker last night?” Dom asks hesitantly, the uneasiness clear in his tone.
Billy arches an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”
“Not really,” Dom admits. “Tequila and I have a troubled relationship. It’s kinda like the bloke who slaps his girlfriend around when he’s drunk off his arse and then in the morning he promises it’ll never happen again, but you know it will. We really shouldn’t mix.”
“Ah.”
“Was I an arse?” Dom presses, bracing himself for the answer.
“No, you weren’t,” Billy replies quietly. “Drink up. We need to get going.”
“So what did I do last night?” Dom asks as Billy takes a sip of his tea.
“Nothing too embarrassing,” Billy tells him, mentally giving the memory of their kiss a swift shove to the back of his mind. “We played truth or dare. You and I did body shots, and Vig called it a night shortly after that.”
“Body- Off each other?” Dom inquires with wide eyes.
“Hobbits stick together,” Billy says mildly, glad he was the one to tell Dom, so it won’t be a shock when the others mention it, as he’s sure they will. If he makes light of it, then chances are, so will Dom, no matter what he’s told. “You were pretty out of it, so I brought you home, and we crashed.”
“Thanks.”
“We better go,” Billy says after glancing at the clock. “Don’t want to be late for Feet.”
“Yeah.”
Little is said as Billy drives them to set and they arrive at the trailer to be transformed into characters from Middle Earth for the next fourteen hours or so. Even though the Paracetamol is helping, Dom’s head is still throbbing a bit, and he’s relieved when Elijah is in similar condition, so the stereo system that is usually blaring loud music is blissfully silent today. Nearly an hour has passed before Dom realizes that Billy is not quite himself, and a distance is widening between them. Normally they talk while being glued and wigged, but this morning Billy is reading a book and has only looked up once, when Sean asked him a question directly. What’s most disconcerting to Dom is that Billy appears to be avoiding him, as subtly as possible, trying not to draw attention to that fact.
In recent months, especially in the last few days, Dom has noticed that he and Billy have been getting closer, almost inseparable at times, and not just when they’re on set. He’s made no secret of how he rather enjoys Billy’s company, the ease in which they’ve become such good friends, and he’s come to depend on that friendship on his bad days. It was Billy who looked after him when he got sunburned, and Dom never considered anyone else for the role. New Zealand is a long way from home, and Billy appears to have a knack for knowing just when Dom needs to be distracted, or given a hug and a kind word. All that seems to be fading away now, right before Dom’s eyes, and he feels utterly helpless to stop it.
Billy is completely oblivious to Dom’s distress, as he’s having problems of his own. No matter how hard he concentrates on his book, desperately attempting to distract himself, inappropriate thoughts keep pushing their way into his consciousness. He’s read the same paragraph six times now, and keeps losing his place because of the memory of Dom’s soft mouth pressed against his, what Dom’s bare skin felt like against his fingertips as they kissed, and the sounds he made when their tongues touched. It would seem that the events of last night are fast becoming his own private hell, especially since Dom doesn’t remember a thing about what happened. It’s up to Billy to find a way to move past it; forget that it ever happened.
Part of Dom wants to ask what’s causing the distance between him and Billy, but the coward in him knows that it must have something to do with last night – or the last few days. He’s been rather high-maintenance, he knows, but that’s not how he normally is. Sure, he and Billy have shared a bed after an evening of indulging from time to time. They’ve spent enough nights in Elijah’s spare room to call it theirs, but those occurrences don’t usually happen in succession. This week, Billy’s spent more time in Dom’s bed than his own. Maybe that’s the problem, Dom theorizes. Billy wants some privacy, a night to himself. That’s not too much to ask, so why not just say it? Anything is better than this silence.
“Who wants to hang out at the pub tonight?” Elijah asks, as though reading Dom’s mind. “There’s supposed to be a good band playing.”
“Sounds good,” Sean replies, and then closes his eyes as he yawns. “But no tequila.”
“Agreed,” Billy adds. “Count me in.”
“Dom?” Elijah prompts. “Do you want to come with us?”
“Probably not,” Billy interrupts to add, keeping his eyes on the paperback in his hands, anxiety rising up in him at the thought of Dom getting drunk again, and a repeat performance of last night’s events. “Tequila made for a rough night.”
It takes all of Dom’s control not to demand what he’s done to warrant being told that he shouldn’t go out tonight, like he’s a teenager who broke curfew and needs to be punished, even though he has to admit to himself that he’s already exhausted.
Elijah looks disappointed. “Oh, well I guess-”
“I’ll be there,” Dom interjects firmly. “Looking forward to it.”
Slumping down in his chair, Dom waits for Billy to lean over so they can talk quietly, as they have dozens of times before, but this time, Billy shrugs indifferently and returns his attention to his book. The careless action is as if Dom’s been struck, and misery begins to overtake him, only adding to the tequila induced headache he’s already suffering with. By the time they’re released from the make up chairs and instructed to change into their costumes, Dom’s convinced that he must have done something last night bordering on unforgivable, and wishes that he’d never taken a bloody sip of alcohol last night.
To Billy’s dismay, Dom’s lithe body and innocently sensuous mouth continues to invade his thoughts, and as fantasies of what could’ve been roll over him in waves, he fights hard to control his breathing. The images in his mind are having a pronounced effect on his body, and Billy is grateful for the fact that he’s not standing at the moment, because that would certainly give him away. In an effort to reassert his control, he tries to imagine the most unappealing things he can think of, and is relieved when the pressure in his trousers begins to ease. Things will get better, Billy tells himself. It’ll just take a few days for the memory of the kiss to fade.
It’s then that Billy makes the mistake of glancing to his right, just in time to catch Dom gnawing on his pouty lower lip, reddening the sensuous curve, causing Billy to revise his theory.
Okay. Maybe it’ll take a wee bit longer. A week.
The time spent waiting for the next shot to be set up seems endless, Dom inconspicuously keeping to himself, sipping honey-sweetened tea to soothe his upset stomach. Everyone assumes that it's because of last night, but in truth, it's Billy's distance that's causing him the discomfort. Part of him knows it’s silly to have anxiety about something so simple, but considering how close he and Billy have become, Dom can’t help it. More than anything, he wishes he could go back and change it, undo whatever he did, so they can go back to talking, laughing and taking the piss. Dom misses that so much more than he ever thought possible.
During a break between scenes, Billy escapes into the trailer he and Dom share for some warmth and quiet, so he can take a nap. He’s having trouble concentrating today, is having work harder at it, and accordingly, he needs more rest to recharge his batteries. He’s on the edge of sleep when the trailer door opens, but rather than opening his eyes to see who’s there, to his shame, Billy pretends to be sleeping. The visitor doesn’t say a word, but doesn’t leave either, so Billy adds a whistling snore to convince them that he’s not awake. A heavy sigh fills the quiet, and then the door closes again, leaving Billy alone. Internally, the Scotsman cringes, because he’d know that voice anywhere, even when it’s just a rush of air. Dom.
Rolling onto his side, Billy presses his face into his pillow for a moment, only to pull back when he realizes that it smells like Dom. It would seem that no matter where he goes, no matter what he does, Dom is there. Until today, he hadn’t realized just how entwined their lives have become, even more than he thought they would, considering they work together, play cousins on screen. It’s felt good, having a close mate, someone who needs him, someone who would be there for him in a heartbeat.
Maybe that’s why he didn’t pull away when Dom kissed him last night. When he really thinks about it, is honest with himself, the intimate contact wasn’t that strange. It was quite lovely, actually, kissing Dom, except that they’re best mates, and this could fuck things up between them but good. There’s a lot of film left to be shot, and the idea of things being awkward with Dom for all that time is depressing. It’s better that they be distant for a short spell while Billy gets his hormones under control, and then they can go back to being Dom and Billy. Billy‘n’Dom. Best mates.
Satisfied with his plan and reasoning, Billy finally lets his eyes close, and quickly surrenders to sleep, only to be tormented by erotic images of a naked Dom sprawled on his bed, writhing and begging for Billy’s touch. This time, there’s no ordering his arousal to go away, and Billy is forced to take the matter in hand, so to speak, with a quick wank in the loo before being called back to set.
Just over twelve, excruciatingly uncomfortable hours in his fat suit, they are wrapped for the day, and Dom all but bolts from the Feet trailer after being freed of his prosthetics. He’s changed into his regular clothes and is walking away from the trailer he shares with Billy when the older man arrives, and refuses to look back. They’d spoken very little, other than when the cameras were rolling, and then it was short and uncomfortable, completely unlike what they’ve become used to.
The quiet and distance between them has only grown as the day dragged on, and right now, all Dom wants to do is go home, where he doesn’t have to pretend that he’s not hurting. Normally after a lousy day, he’d whinge to Billy, but that’s definitely not going to happen tonight. Others in the Fellowship have noticed that not all is fair and rosy between the friends, and it was Sean who quietly offered Dom a ride home, knowing that he had arrived with Billy this morning. With downcast eyes, Dom had gratefully accepted.
Part of Dom wants to blow off going to the pub tonight, since he knows Billy will likely be there, but Elijah had suggested it, and it really does sound like it could be fun. Also, it’s a pub, which means there will be alcohol. Drowning his sorrows with good music sounds a lot less pathetic than sitting in front of the telly and getting sloshed all by himself, Dom decides as he gets out of the shower and wraps a towel around his narrow hips. Maybe Billy will decide not to go after all.
Dom’s brave façade lasts until he walks into the somewhat crowded pub and spots Billy’s familiar ginger hair, his back to the door as he talks animatedly with Elijah and Orlando. Then Dom makes a beeline for the bar to procure some liquid courage before he’s spotted, noticing that the three men already have glasses in front of them. The ache in his chest that Dom had managed to push aside while showering is back with a vengeance, and now he craves the numbing effects of alcohol, not caring that he’ll likely end up with yet another hangover. What can he say, he’s had a shite week.
“What’ll you have?” the bartender asks, pulling Dom from his troubled thoughts.
“Mix whatever’s in your hand with coke,” Dom replies firmly, nodding at the bottle of dark rum in the older man’s grip. “And make it a double.”
When Dom sinks down into a chair across from Elijah a few minutes later, his glass is half empty, and the rush of alcohol into his system has taken the edge off his anxiety.
“There you are,” Elijah says brightly. “We were going to order you a beer, but-”
“I’m fine with this,” Dom replies, drawing on acting abilities he didn’t know he had and plastering on a smile. “This was a good idea, Lij. I’m glad you said something.”
“Thanks.”
“When does-”
The sound of a guitar causes Dom to look over his shoulder, and he gets the answer to his question. It would seem that he arrived just in time, and the band Elijah had been raving about over lunch is about to start. Dom’s relieved, because it means he won’t have to struggle through small talk with Billy, who has been very careful to only look at Dom peripherally. No direct eye contact, but not outright ignoring him either. For those reasons, an entertainment act is an excellent idea. Within a few minutes, the music being piped through the pub’s sound system is replaced by the band on the stage, and Dom is grateful for the distraction. It didn’t escape his attention that the moment he arrived, Billy’s mood changed, and that he’s now sitting back from the table, spending an inordinate amount of time studying the tumbler cradled in his hand.
While part of Dom wants to dive into his drink, he makes the conscious choice to sip it slowly, so he’ll remain in control of his faculties. He certainly can’t count on Billy to look out for him tonight, not with how things are right now. Even with the band offering some relief from the tension at the table, Dom is relieved when Elijah gets antsy, and declares that he wants to go dance. Needing some physical distance between Billy and himself, Dom joins the American, and they stay out on the dance floor until the set is finished, and both are parched. A stop is made at the bar to get fresh drinks, and Dom is sliding into his seat when Billy abruptly pushes back from the table.
“I’m going to head home, I think,” Billy offers as explanation, taking care to not make eye contact with Dom. “It’s been a long day.”
Anger flares in Dom’s belly at Billy, knowing that he is the reason for the Scotsman’s early departure. He’ll be blamed, whether the words are spoken aloud or not. Sean and Elijah aren’t stupid. He’d hoped that they’d talk tonight, get things resolved, but that hope is fading fast, especially with Billy all but running away.
“Billy, it’s still early,” Elijah protests, not even trying to hide his disappointment. “They’re going to play another set.”
“Sorry, Lij. See you tomorrow.”
Mouth agape, Dom watches the older man grab his jacket off the back of his chair before making his way through the crowd to the front door. It’s not until Billy disappears from sight that Dom hits his breaking point, everything that happened today igniting as though it’s been doused in gasoline, and he’s on his feet and chasing after Billy before the thought even registers in his mind.
“Dom-”
Sean hushes Elijah’s protest, and watches until the door closes behind Dom.
“What is going on with them?” Elijah muses aloud.
“I wish I knew,” Sean comments. “Here’s hoping they deal with it. Soon.”
Walking away from the pub at an unhurried pace, Billy shoves his hands in his pockets, mind jumbled with conflicting thoughts. At first he’d been relieved when Dom decided to go dance with Elijah, and then he’d been entranced, watching the younger man move to the music. Only then did Billy realize just how attractive Dom’s slender body is, how freely he moves, and how uninhibited he is with his emotions in that state. It brought back all the memories of last night, his fantasizes today, and made his body ache with want that Billy never knew existed until today.
So distracted by his inner torment, Billy fails to hear the quick footsteps behind him, and is more than a wee bit surprised when he’s pulled to a stop by a hand on his shoulder.
“Dom?”
“We need to talk.”
Swallowing hard and eyeing the people walking by, Billy moves to his left, leaning against the corner of a brick building.
“What do we need to talk about?” he asks mildly.
“Are you bloody well kidding me?” Dom asks in shock.
“Dom, I’m tired, so-”
“I’m sick of this,” Dom declares, the frustration making his body vibrate. “All day it’s been . . . You’ve been avoiding me.”
“We’ve been on set all day,” Billy protests awkwardly, shrugging as though to make light of Dom’s concerns. “We were together in every scene we shot.”
“And you’ve hated every second of it,” Dom fires back. “You couldn’t wait to get away from me. You even pretended to be asleep in the trailer so you wouldn’t have to talk to me.”
“I was tired, Dom,” Billy says, averting his gaze when guilt washes over him, realizing that he didn’t fool anyone. “I’m still tired; completely knackered, to be perfectly honest. I want to go home. We’re filming tomorrow.”
“Will you just tell me what I did?” Dom pleads, traitorous tears welling up in his eyes, despite his best efforts to keep the deep hurt from being revealed. “How can I apologize and try to make amends for something that I can’t remember, that you insist didn’t happen, when it clearly did?”
“Dom, just let it go,” Billy tells him. “It’s been a long week; you’re tired and drunk-”
“I’m not fucking drunk!” Dom yells heatedly, not caring that anyone walking by can hear him. “I know I’m hardly the poster child for sobriety this week, but I’ve had one drink tonight, and I’ve been sipping it for the last two hours.”
Billy has the decency to look contrite. “Sorry.”
“Fucking hell, Bills,” Dom adds, quieter now. “I miss my best mate, and I’m trying to fix whatever I did that made it go so wrong. I thought you’d want that, too.”
“What I want?” Billy repeats in disbelief, fervently wishing more than ever that he was a better actor, so he could’ve spared Dom this distress.
“I’m tired of chasing after you, and feeling like this,” Dom finishes, shaking his head sadly. “If you can’t be honest with me, well then, I guess we weren’t nearly as good of friends as I thought we were. I’ll see you on set.”
With his head down, Dom turns on his heel to leave, only to be stopped by Billy’s small hand shooting out to grip his bicep. Before Dom can say anything, even think about the words, he’s jerked forward, causing him to stumble awkwardly and he ends up falling into Billy’s embrace. A strong arm winds around his torso, and a moment later, soft, bow-shaped lips are being pressed to his in a hungry kiss. The touch is so unexpected that Dom gasps, and Billy seizes the opportunity to slide his tongue between the parted lips, his free hand cupping the back of Dom’s head to keep him close as they sink into one another.
It’s long moments later that Dom feels a scraping against his back, and he opens his eyes long enough to realize that Billy has smoothly guided them into the alley, for a wee bit more privacy as they continue to kiss. With bodies pressed together from nose to knees, Dom finds his legs shaking, his heart suddenly racing, and he’s whimpering at the relentless, tender onslaught of Billy’s passion. By the time they break for much needed oxygen, Dom’s arms are wound around the older man’s trim frame, fisting handfuls of his hunter green shirt, causing the cotton to wrinkle.
Panting for breath, Dom can’t speak, too stunned at what has just happened; that Billy pinned him against the wall and kissed him. He’s just snogged his best mate, and Dom desperately wants to do it again. It’s not a dream; of that, he is sure. Billy kissed him. Beyond that, there’s only one thought that is coherent, one thing that he knows, with absolute certainty.
“That’s not the first time we’ve kissed,” Dom murmurs hoarsely, gazing at the other man reverently, not even attempting to hide his emotions.
A lazy, intimate smile turns up the corners of Billy’s mouth as he licks his rosy lips, and then he replies, “You taste like rum this time.”
Part 6 - Scotch
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Dom as a high-maintenance type? Somehow I'm not entirely surprised - though I doubt he's that way in real life, even if he is a self-described 'metrosexual'. (I looked that word up in Wikipedia some time back, and sure enough, his name is mentioned in that article).
Is it Friday yet? *checks calendar*
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Oh, I wish it was Friday, too. Hee! Thank you.
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Thank you. Glad you enjoyed.
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Thank you. Pleased that you enjoyed. It's all over on Friday.
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Thank you so much for this! I love Monaboyd medicine...its better than that awful stuff. LOL!
I'm glad that it will continue on Friday and sad that it will be ending. You make me salivate for more!
Til Friday
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I'm busy writing away, so I'll be posting more fic after Ardent is finished. I promise. :) Thank you. Glad you're enjoying.
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