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monaboyd Mar. 5th, 2004 07:46 pm)
jettabug.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 5th, 2004 07:46 pm)Title: The Diary Of Dom: Part Three
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jettabug
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: R for swearing
Feedback: Please!
Author's Notes: This is the final bitty of my Diary Of Dom series. It's short, but gets to the point.
Summary: Dom's journal.
The Diary Of Dom: Part Three
by Jenna
I didn’t sleep last night, did you really think I would?
I spent all night tossing and turning, getting my bed sheets tangled around my legs, constantly thinking about everything.
But now, it’s 4:15 in the morning, a day and a half since I gave Billy It.
I know you’re probably dying for some sort of closure, journal, so I’ll do my best to remember exactly what happened at 6:14 last night.
I’d just finished dinner (an oh-so-nutritional meal of frozen pizza) and had collapsed onto the couch when the doorbell rang. I think I knew it was Billy before the ring had stopped. I don’t know why, I just knew.
I don’t think I’d ever been so scared in my life as I was when I opened the door, to reveal Billy standing there, It clutched in his hand. We sort of stared each other down for a minute before he asked me what it was about. I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. It was like my speech had been taken away.
I had REM playing in the background, and we stood for the longest time. Him on the doorstep, me inside, my toes curling into the carpet as my heart and stomach did five millions jumping jacks.
I felt naked suddenly, the way he was looking at me, it was surreal, like it was happening, but it wasn’t happening, if that makes any sense?
It could have been an hour or a second that we stood like that, our eyes locked together. It felt like forever, because each agonizing second was like a lifetime.
Then he sort of shifted his weight. I thought he was going to turn around and leave, but then the strangest thing happened.
He launched forward and tackled me to the ground. Just threw his body at mine. I fell backwards, my back hitting the carpet, Billy landing on top of me. It hurt like hell, more than I cared to admit, and I’m pretty sure I have a bruise, but it was worth it. Just having Billy that close.
At first, I expected him to punch me, to beat me up for the letter. But he didn’t, he wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me. Kissed. Me.
Kissed.
Me.
KISSED.
ME.
And then my heart stopped beating. For a millisecond, I was dead, because Billy’s lips were on mine, and life was perfect.
The pain in my back was nothing, because Billy was kissing me.
I could go on for forty million pages describing his kiss, his soft lips, that taste as good as they look, the sweet way his fingers rubbed at the back of my neck as we lay on the floor.
His lips are something amazing. They seemed so sprout electric currents as they joined mine. His touch is so gentle, so soft, so loving. It was like he didn’t want to rush anything.
He kissed me hard, passionately, romantically, before pulling away, sitting up, sitting on my upper thighs. He apologised and went to move, but I grabbed his wrists.
I hadn’t realised that I’d been crying until he brushed the tears off my cheeks.
He just sat there on my thighs, looking down at me, his chest heaving and his lips pink and wet.
And he said something that I will remember for the rest of my life. He said: “do you know how easy it is to fall in love with you, Dominic?”
Then he kissed me again. And again. And again.
We must’ve lay there for hours, holding each other, kissing, talking in hushed voices. And at the same time I knew it was happening, it felt like a dream, a wonderful, perfect dream, where all my prayers were answered.
He told me how much my letter touched him, made him realise that he’d been lying to himself for so long about how he felt. I started to cry, and then Billy started to cry, and we were both blubbering together on the floor.
He told me that the letter made him realise things about himself that he didn’t even know existed. He told me that the letter made him happy, and then I realised that if Billy was happy, I was happy.
We didn’t make love, if that’s what you’re wondering.
We did, though, move from the front entryway to the bedroom, where Billy fell asleep in my arms. Where Billy whispered confessions of love to me before closing his beautiful green eyes and falling into the precipice of sleep. I wrapped him up in my arms and kissed his forehead, and I haven’t slept a wink since. To think it was only 10 hours ago that my life changed.
That everything went from being hopeless, to be perfect.
I have my Billy.
And now, he’s still asleep, curled up, topless, under my sheets, snoring softly, arms wrapped around my pillow.
His hair is sticking up and he’s drooling ever so slightly, but I don’t think he’s ever been more beautiful.
He talks in his sleeps, not sentences, but random words. My name was mentioned a few times, and I’ve made a note to ask Billy what he was dreaming about.
His chest is rising and falling in slow, languid succession, and his hand just lightly twitched. We’re gonna have to get moving soon, early start on set.
I’m sitting here watching him, wondering how to end this entry. Do I just stop writing?
I guess I need to thank you journal. Without you, listening to all the crap I’ve been on about over the past few days, I’d probably still be a basket case, and would never have written a letter. I guess I owe Orlando for the letter. Remind me to call him.
So. This is the end. My life is complete and the man of my dreams is asleep in my bed.
But it doesn’t look like that will last long. He’s waking up with a smile on his face.
Cross posted to:jettabug & ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fellow_shippers
Author:
jettabugPairing: Monaboyd
Rating: R for swearing
Feedback: Please!
Author's Notes: This is the final bitty of my Diary Of Dom series. It's short, but gets to the point.
Summary: Dom's journal.
by Jenna
I didn’t sleep last night, did you really think I would?
I spent all night tossing and turning, getting my bed sheets tangled around my legs, constantly thinking about everything.
But now, it’s 4:15 in the morning, a day and a half since I gave Billy It.
I know you’re probably dying for some sort of closure, journal, so I’ll do my best to remember exactly what happened at 6:14 last night.
I’d just finished dinner (an oh-so-nutritional meal of frozen pizza) and had collapsed onto the couch when the doorbell rang. I think I knew it was Billy before the ring had stopped. I don’t know why, I just knew.
I don’t think I’d ever been so scared in my life as I was when I opened the door, to reveal Billy standing there, It clutched in his hand. We sort of stared each other down for a minute before he asked me what it was about. I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. It was like my speech had been taken away.
I had REM playing in the background, and we stood for the longest time. Him on the doorstep, me inside, my toes curling into the carpet as my heart and stomach did five millions jumping jacks.
I felt naked suddenly, the way he was looking at me, it was surreal, like it was happening, but it wasn’t happening, if that makes any sense?
It could have been an hour or a second that we stood like that, our eyes locked together. It felt like forever, because each agonizing second was like a lifetime.
Then he sort of shifted his weight. I thought he was going to turn around and leave, but then the strangest thing happened.
He launched forward and tackled me to the ground. Just threw his body at mine. I fell backwards, my back hitting the carpet, Billy landing on top of me. It hurt like hell, more than I cared to admit, and I’m pretty sure I have a bruise, but it was worth it. Just having Billy that close.
At first, I expected him to punch me, to beat me up for the letter. But he didn’t, he wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me. Kissed. Me.
Kissed.
Me.
KISSED.
ME.
And then my heart stopped beating. For a millisecond, I was dead, because Billy’s lips were on mine, and life was perfect.
The pain in my back was nothing, because Billy was kissing me.
I could go on for forty million pages describing his kiss, his soft lips, that taste as good as they look, the sweet way his fingers rubbed at the back of my neck as we lay on the floor.
His lips are something amazing. They seemed so sprout electric currents as they joined mine. His touch is so gentle, so soft, so loving. It was like he didn’t want to rush anything.
He kissed me hard, passionately, romantically, before pulling away, sitting up, sitting on my upper thighs. He apologised and went to move, but I grabbed his wrists.
I hadn’t realised that I’d been crying until he brushed the tears off my cheeks.
He just sat there on my thighs, looking down at me, his chest heaving and his lips pink and wet.
And he said something that I will remember for the rest of my life. He said: “do you know how easy it is to fall in love with you, Dominic?”
Then he kissed me again. And again. And again.
We must’ve lay there for hours, holding each other, kissing, talking in hushed voices. And at the same time I knew it was happening, it felt like a dream, a wonderful, perfect dream, where all my prayers were answered.
He told me how much my letter touched him, made him realise that he’d been lying to himself for so long about how he felt. I started to cry, and then Billy started to cry, and we were both blubbering together on the floor.
He told me that the letter made him realise things about himself that he didn’t even know existed. He told me that the letter made him happy, and then I realised that if Billy was happy, I was happy.
We didn’t make love, if that’s what you’re wondering.
We did, though, move from the front entryway to the bedroom, where Billy fell asleep in my arms. Where Billy whispered confessions of love to me before closing his beautiful green eyes and falling into the precipice of sleep. I wrapped him up in my arms and kissed his forehead, and I haven’t slept a wink since. To think it was only 10 hours ago that my life changed.
That everything went from being hopeless, to be perfect.
I have my Billy.
And now, he’s still asleep, curled up, topless, under my sheets, snoring softly, arms wrapped around my pillow.
His hair is sticking up and he’s drooling ever so slightly, but I don’t think he’s ever been more beautiful.
He talks in his sleeps, not sentences, but random words. My name was mentioned a few times, and I’ve made a note to ask Billy what he was dreaming about.
His chest is rising and falling in slow, languid succession, and his hand just lightly twitched. We’re gonna have to get moving soon, early start on set.
I’m sitting here watching him, wondering how to end this entry. Do I just stop writing?
I guess I need to thank you journal. Without you, listening to all the crap I’ve been on about over the past few days, I’d probably still be a basket case, and would never have written a letter. I guess I owe Orlando for the letter. Remind me to call him.
So. This is the end. My life is complete and the man of my dreams is asleep in my bed.
But it doesn’t look like that will last long. He’s waking up with a smile on his face.
Cross posted to:
jettabug & fellow_shippers
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
And he said something that I will remember for the rest of my life. He said: “do you know how easy it is to fall in love with you, Dominic?”
WAH. That was GORGEOUS, just gorgeous, and absolutely gorgeous.
From:
Wow am so happy
From:
no subject
Bunny loves ya.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
it made me feel all gooey inside^-^