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[el-erzulie.livejournal.com]

Just Dominic
[A stormy weather story]

Rating: PG
Summary: Dominic, Billy thought, was a lot like a storm.
Author's Notes: Big sloppy kisses and hugs to saphreanth, who was the first to read this and poke me when it needed changing, and arwena, my loffly beta, who for once didn't have one million things to change. *g* But thankyou for reading it all the same, because your opinion means the world to me. <3 Much love to them both!

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The thing that made storms stand out to Billy was that they could never be captured. It didn’t matter how good your camera was, how quick your finger. More often than not it came out too dark, or if you were lucky you might catch a few raindrops.

A camera couldn’t capture the way everything was dark until the lightning struck. Then, everything was lit up, for just one moment. In that time you noticed the smallest of details; the way a rain drop clung to a power line, the almost magical green of the trees. You finally notice the leaves on a tree that you’ve known for years, but never caught in that moment.

More than that, a camera couldn’t explain how no matter how fiercely the wind tore at your clothes, or how resolutely the rain stung and chilled you, you barely paid attention to it. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you felt your feet go numb, but it seemed unimportant.

But the real reason, the one that stuck Billy the most, was the way a storm made you feel. You could be standing next to someone but feel all alone. Never lonely, but blissfully alone. It made you feel like something very small caught up in something too big to understand.

Things you knew so well you barely even registered them anymore were suddenly new.

Dominic, Billy thought, was a lot like a storm. He had the potential to crash everything in his path: not by malicious intent, but simply by the power he seemed to so unwittingly hold in his palm. Like a storm, when he was gone, nothing was the same. For a time, everything was different. Every blade of grass was weighed down by the rain, contorted into a new form.

When things returned to normal you forgot why it was you loved it. You never forgot that you did love it though. The thing is that the reasons seemed so obvious when it was there in front of you and so foreign when it wasn’t.

So hard to explain, even to yourself. It seemed no word had yet been created that could describe it.

Through the drumming of the rain on the porch’s roof Billy heard the familiar rumble of an engine and turned his eyes to the road. The droplets caught the shards of light and reflected them for a time, making the headlights seem large and out of focus.

Overhead, the storm seemed to stop for a moment. The power was still there, though, like a tightly coiled ball of energy that was on the edge of release. But, for a moment, something else seemed to override it.

The taxi’s door opened and a dark figure jumped out, slamming the door behind them before scurrying up the path with hunched shoulders.

Blue grey eyes lifted and locked onto green, narrowing in confusion, or perhaps concern. Maybe both.

Billy barely heard his name, ears lost to normal conversation. Lost to reason, instead captivated by something that didn’t need words.

But he did see that mouth curve around the word and the curious tilt of his head.

He did feel the body suddenly launched at him, the arms wrapped around him almost too tightly.

Almost.

He felt warm where he was and he barely noticed the rain drops on their jacket. Rain’s chill had not yet settled into this one.

The rough scratch of Dom’s cheek was suddenly on his and a mouth was blowing hot air against his ear.

“How long have you been here?”

This time he heard the words and smiled a little, pressing closer to the warmth. Content filled him; simple, longed for comfort. The sort you didn’t even know you wanted until you had a taste. Then you were addicted.

“When did it start?” he rumbled back. The smell, the taste of rain filled his nose and mouth in a sudden rush.

“The storm?”

He nodded back, at first for confirmation and then again, slower, when he realized how good it felt when their cheeks brushed together. Hands were running down his arms now, spreading tingles that Billy wasn’t sure were just warmth. Billy hoped his reactions could be blamed on the cold and not on something else.

The breathing against his ear hitched. “Hours, Billy. Don’t tell me you’ve been out here that long.”

Billy tucked his face against Dom’s neck and took a deep breath. This time the air was warmer and there was a taste to it that he thought might be Dom’s own.

How long?

He remembered his fumbled excuses earlier that night, mind half focused on the tension in the air. Soon, he had realized. He also remembered Dom leaving, his back framed by the doorway as he headed out clubbing for the night.

After that he wasn’t so sure. There were droplets against the roof, he knew, and splatters against the windows. Then it had begun.

Hours, though? He hadn’t thought it had been so long now, just standing there, half in the rain, on the porch. Watching.

He heard Dom’s disbelieving curses as his fingers slipped down to wrap around Billy’s wrist. Then he was being guided inside and it hit him.

He was cold. More than cold. He was chilled to the bone, so much so his legs seemed numb. His body shook.

When they were in the bathroom Dom plucked at his thin singlet. “And in this?” He looked down to Billy’s boxers. “And those?”

Billy tried to stop his teeth chattering for long enough to nod.

“It was so hot before,” he feebly explained. It sounded stupid, even to him.

Fingers clutched the hem of his shirt and pulled, elbows nudging Billy’s arms until he realized what he was meant to be doing. He lifted his arms and shut his eyes, shuddering a little as nails accidentally scraped against his chest.

Distracting as they were, they still seemed to snap him out of his daze. He opened his eyes again as the shirt was drawn over his head and tried to hide his discomfort.

Dom seemed to notice that his eyes were clearer now. “Good,” he said, voice low. It vibrated through Billy’s body, sending sparks even into his numb feet. “Otherwise this was going to get awkward.” He gestured to Billy’s boxers and laughed a little nervously.

If Billy’s cheeks had been less drained of colour altogether, he suspected he would have been scarlet.

Dom turned and left the room, leaving Billy by himself. He pulled his boxers off and shivered from more than just the cold.

The last of the droplets were wiped away by the towel before he wrapped it around his waist. As he heard footsteps coming down the hall he clasped the towel tightly until his knuckles were white.

“Here’s some clothes,” Dom said, handing them over. His eyes seemed to skirt around the room rather than focus on Billy.

The door clicked shut behind him as he left and Billy dropped his towel. The pile looked good, he thought. There were his favourite grey pants, with the hole in the right leg, and a shirt he recognized well. It seemed Dom may have noticed that his “borrowing clothes” revolved mainly around that one shirt.

As he slipped it over his head a moment later he caught Dom’s scent. It didn’t matter how much you washed it.

Perhaps Billy would never admit that that was why he liked it.

When he returned to his bedroom he found Dom stretched out on top of his bed, though Billy must have been in the bathroom for longer than he realized because he was now changed.

He climbed under the covers next to Dom, feeling the warmth of his blankets seep into his body a little. Dom had piled another two blankets on top of the bed and Billy was about to thank him when his thoughts were interrupted.

“Did you have a shower?” Dom asked, though it was obvious he hadn’t. “You’d be warm if you’d had a hot one. I might even have forgiven you for using all the hot water.”

As he rambled on he rolled off the bed, landing on his feet as his arms moved to tug the covers down.

Billy made a small sigh as Dom slid in next to him and shuffled closer until he was nestled against his side. “Warm,” he mumbled, lips rubbing against Dom’s shoulder.

Dom just sighed. “Sometimes I worry about you. Wanker.”

Billy just smiled against the tanned skin and slid his arm over Dom’s chest.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before shutting his eyes.

As he lay there, huddled up to Dom like his personal hot water bottle, he realized something.

This was right. It was comfortable, perfect, like he’d been doing it for years. The realization really brought his whole storm theory crashing to a halt.

It seemed Dom mightn’t be so easy to compare, let alone define. He was just… Dominic.

Billy thought that this might be even better than a storm.