18 Favorite Things

[subtle-dusk.livejournal.com]

Pairing: Monaboyd
Raiting: Hard, hard, hard R
Summary: “Let me go ahead and ask you the question that Billy wanted us to ask you. He’d like to know your eighteen favorite things about him.”
Notes: About three weeks ago, I promised fluff. This is what I have been working on since then. Finally, the promised fluff. And loads of it. This is very, very long. You have been warned ;) Also, the flashbacks, such as they are, do not occur in chronological order. They're just the images Billy thinks of as a result of Dom's responses.
Disclaimer: I did not make up the contents of the actual interview. The things Dom says during the interview are copied word for word from said interview, which I found online at The Bag End Inn. Also, the WB part, with the tape thing, that is on the theatrical version of TTT. Hope Fades lyrics, also not mine. Everything else came from within my head. Meaning that I don't know them, this never happened. Well, the interview did. And Billy *was* there. And I mean, they learned to surf. And Dom did rip the tape off. Right. You get it.


Billy was leaning against the wall of the room in which Dom had been getting interviewed all day, arms crossed over his chest as he listened to his friend speak, the honesty and passion in his voice always apparent.

He couldn’t stop his mouth from curling up into a smile when the interviewer asked his next question:

“Let me go ahead and ask you the question that Billy wanted us to ask you. He’d like to know your eighteen favorite things about him.” Billy shifted slightly so as to get a better view of Dom, and felt his chest tighten pleasantly at the look on Dom’s face. Dom looked absolutely delighted, as though nothing would please him more.

“My eighteen favorite things?” he said, mulling it over in his head. “Okay, number one: The space between his nose and his lip.” Billy let out a cough that sounded as though it was quite possibly masking a snort, but Dom did not pause. “I think it’s called the filtrum. That’s f-i-l-t-r-u-m. Billy’s got a fantastic filtrum. You know how babies have that very cute, sweet little filtrum? Billy’s got the same thing! So that would be my number one favorite thing about Billy.”

“What about my mouth, Dommie?” Billy whispered so that only Dom could here. “Tell them about my mouth.”

“He’s telling me what to say now, but I’m not going to!” Dom said light-heartedly, though the way he shifted in his seat did not go unnoticed by Billy.

*~*~*

Billy had Dom pressed up against the door to his flat, chest-to-chest, groin-to-groin. Dom shivered beneath his mouth as it did something altogether pleasant to his neck, and the whimper that escaped his lips as Billy’s hand pushed past clothing into his trousers simply couldn’t be helped. He had waited too long for this, wanted it far too much.

“Billy—Bills,” Dom said, though each word was choked and short and breathless and hoarse. Billy must have heard the alarm in his voice, because he fixed Dom with that captivating stare of his, pressed their mouths together, and somehow managed to unlock the door while maintaining full contact with Dom’s body.

He pulled Dom against him simultaneously as he kicked the door open, and this movement had the effect of grinding their erections together. Billy hissed and Dom ground his hips again, wanting more, oh god give me more.

They bumped past furniture, kicking an end table and knocking a lamp over in the process, though neither particularly cared, in their effort to somehow get to a flat surface that was not the floor.

Dom winced as a sharp pain ran up his back, but did not even have time to mind this as Billy was already lifting him onto the table they had crashed into, wrapping his hotwetslickholyfuck mouth around Dom’s cock. Dom threw his head back, threading his fingers through Billy silky soft hair, shaking to his very core, heat and lust and love and so many things he didn’t even know existed until now (so he certainly didn’t have the words for them) rushing through him as he cried out Billy’s name.

*~*~*

“Very small, dainty hands and feet, which makes him very dexterous; anything he does with his hands is always very precise.” The interviewer raised an eyebrow, but Dom only grinned like an idiot.

Billy felt the heat rushing to his face at the implications of that statement, though secretly he knew they were not unwarranted.

*~*~*

It hadn’t been his fault at all. The fact that Billy was much quicker than him was the only reason Dom had been the one who was found sitting amidst the rubble of a broken table in the canteen, and Billy had been found no less then ten feet away.

Of course, the fact that Billy had just had his hands down Dom’s trousers may have slowed Dom’s reaction time, but naturally Billy wouldn’t hear it, and naturally neither of them were about to reveal that to the handful of crewmates and castmates that had come running at the sound of the crash.

“Fuckin’ A,” Dom swore, stealing Elijah’s favorite curse of the moment, as Billy reached to help him up. Dom was flushed and as a result of the table crashing, Billy had not exactly finished what he started. Remaining in front of Dom as they walked together from the canteen, Billy grinned as Dom continued to swear, both against Billy and frail tables. “You better well finish what you started, Bill,” Dom said, and the edge in Dom’s voice, which clearly said there would be repercussions if Billy did not concede, sent a shiver up his spine.

“If I don’t?” Dom took what looked to be a deep, calming breath, before lunging at Billy. Billy dodged him easily, and as a result of his own momentum Dom stumbled with nothing to catch, falling flat on his stomach. He hadn’t regained his breath when Billy sat atop of him again. “I always finish what I start, Dommie,” he cooed, but it wasn’t even that, because Dom was sure no one would use that voice on an infant.

Dom wriggled beneath him as he slid his fingers in the back of Dom’s trousers, over his backside and down, ever down, then brushing ever so lightly against Dom’s perineum.

“Oh fuck,” Dom gasped, trying to press against Billy’s hand.

“Quiet now, Dommie. Wouldn’t want to call everyone over again, ‘ey?” Dom swore again, breathless this time, rustling the fresh green grass beneath his mouth, digging his fingers into damp soil, as Billy proved that he did have the most exquisite pair of hands Dom had ever come across.

*~*~*

“Quite big biceps for such a small man. Big strong arms.”

Billy rolled his eyes at this; Dom was just as strong as he was, although Billy would inevitably win in any fight since he had Jeet Kune Do on his side. He liked that Dom liked his arms, though, and knew of instances when Dom found not only strength in them, but comfort as well.

*~*~*

“You lost it, mate, come on then, fetch it!” Orlando grinned in his normal stupid, goofy way—an image most cameras never saw—pointing to a lone tree with a bright splash of color stuck amid its lower branches.

“Orli.” Dom turned at the voice, soft but containing a thinly veiled warning, and saw Billy.

“It’s alright, Bills. It’s not so high,” Dom said and, with the help of Orlando and Elijah, was boosted into the tree. He didn’t realize how deeply and quickly he was breathing until he rapidly became lightheaded. Of course, that could just have been realizing his height from the ground.

Dom braced himself against two of the sturdier looking branches in the somewhat frail-looking tree and, refusing to give into the stupid, innate desire to fucking look down, he began his climb. In truth, it really was not very high up. The branches were not the thickest in the world, but through careful navigation Dom managed to reach the branch just below the one that held their (Orlando’s stupid fucking ridiculously tacky) boomerang.

Dom leaned forward, stretching his hand out as far as he could go, not thinking that he was at least fifteen feet up and that if he fell he could seriously hurt himself, and the prospect of limping around with injuries was not at all appealing.

Something happened (there was a breeze he shifted his weight his knees jolted) and before he even realized he missed the boomerang, he was falling.

He heard shouting below him but couldn’t distinguish any single voice from the chorus of yells, and then he must have some serious self-preservation thing going on because somehow, without thinking about it at all, he had grabbed the branch next to and slightly lower then the one he had been standing on (which was now broken on the ground below him).

“Dom!” And that voice he knew, that voice gave him strength even though he couldn’t remember a time when he was more terrified, and he forced the screaming voice inside his head (fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck) to shut up.

“Billy,” Dom said and was that his voice? It sounded so soft and weak and terrified and yes he supposed it must be him, because all that, along with incredibly nauseous and wanting nothing more than to firmly plant his feet back on the ground was exactly what he was feeling.

“You’ve got a branch about a foot below you, Dom!” And that was Elijah, who was hopping around below him, as though ready to catch him if he were to fall.

“Just drop down a bit, like a little bit,” Orlando shouted up.

“Fucking hell no,” Dom murmured, tightening his precarious grip around the branch.

“Come on, Dommie,” and there was Billy again, using that same, soothing voice that could shift from whispering into his ear while they made love to lulling him to sleep after an excruciating day up in Treebeard.

“I’ll fall.”

“I’ll catch you.” This was so absurd and at the same time immensely reassuring, however Dom was not totally convinced. He shook his head violently, felt his grip shift on the branch, and lost a bit of the hold he had. He heard Billy’s voice below him, though he could not hear what was being said, and then there was the shuffle of footsteps and suddenly there was a light touch at his ankle. “Come on, Dommie,” he said again.

Dom twisted slightly, and though he still could not see Billy, he knew Elijah and Orlando must have been bracing themselves against his weight, allowing him to be boosted up. And as far as Dom knew, Billy was more terrified of heights then even he.

Dom took a breath and allowed Billy to guide his foot down, lower and lower, as he loosened his grip around the branch, until he felt his sneaker scrape against bark.

“Don’t drop fast, mate,” Orlando called up, and with Billy shushing him, and still holding Dom’s ankle, and the branch now firmly beneath both of Dom’s feet, he made it the rest of the way down. Elijah and Orlando helped Billy down, then clutched at Dom as he shakily reached out to them.

His entire body was trembling, and Billy said something and he didn’t know what it was but Orlando was running into the small cabin they had rented and Elijah was bouncing on the balls of his feet looking as though he wanted to help but had no idea what to do and Billy’s arms were encircling Dom and his mouth was whispering words into his ear and Dom was falling against Billy and the only way they remained upright was because somehow Billy managed to maneuver them around so that he could lean against the trunk of the tree.

As Orlando came running back out, a beat up old beach chair dangling in his arms, Billy locked his arms around Dom, holding him firmly and securely against his chest, planting light kisses in his hair and murmuring calming words, and Dom had never been more grateful for a pair of arms to feel safe in.

*~*~*

“Funny.”

Billy nodded, and felt that this should be fairly obvious as per the commentaries and countless interviews they did together. He also liked that Dom thought he was ‘funny’. Not a smartass, like Orlando, or a complete goof-off like Elijah…just funny.

Billy smiled again (he seemed to be wearing that expression an awful lot these daysmonthsyears).

*~*~*

“They’re going to be, you know, following us,” Dom explained, grabbing an apple from the pyramid of fruit in their flat lobby.

“Right. For the entire day?” Dom shrugged, looking totally unconcerned. Then again, Dom usually looked unconcerned. “Okay. Where are we going?” Again, Dom shrugged. Billy nodded. “Ah, so pool, then?” Dom grinned, linking his arm with Billy’s and pressing their lips together for an instant, before murmuring,

“Pool, then,” against Billy’s lips. Together they set off to met WB’s camera crew in Wellington.

They weren’t very hard to spot, and Dom, ever-grinning, took a bite from his apple as he pointed them out to Billy. They made their way to the small unit, Dom sauntering rather than actually walking. Billy glanced at him and smiled as Dom got quite close to the camera, a dead-serious expression on his face.

Several of the crew chuckled, and the WB spokesperson quickly explained to Dom and Billy the terms of the special, saying that they could go wherever they wanted, do whatever they wanted, as long as it was appropriate for an age group of around thirteen years and older.

The cameras turned back on, and Dom and Billy led the crew into Fidel’s, “One of the best cafes in Wellington.”

They went through their paces, winding each other up and laughing it off, carrying on as usual. When they arrived at the pub in which they regularly played pool, the soundman took Billy aside before entering, and stuck a piece of masking tape over his chest.

Dom asked what had taken him, and Billy addressed both Dom and the camera.

“At this, eh, juncture, I’d just like to mention something. The soundman—who you would find over there—stuck this piece of tape on’e my chest, because apparently the hairs were making a noise! He didn’t ask me if he could stick it on,” he said, now turning fully to face Dom, “he just stuck it on!” Dom was shaking his head as though he was offended for Billy, but then asked,

“Can I rip it off?” Billy pulled his shirt closed over the tape, holding his hands protectively over his chest.

“No, you can’t rip it off!” They finished their round of pool (Billy won, but only just), and after Dom had persistently begged Billy to allow him to rip off the tape, Billy acquiesced. Dom turned to the camera, as Billy steeled himself.

“He’s allowing me to pull off the, uh, masking tape that was put over his shirt to stop his microphone from causing noise. Bill?” Billy moved to undo his shirt, trying unsuccessfully not to smile. Dom faced the camera one last time, “Ready?” he asked it, eyes glittering. Dom moved his shirt just a little bit lower and found a bit of a grip on a corner of the tape that had begun to peel away from Billy’s skin. “Ready mate?” he asked softly, and Billy nodded and gave the affirmative. “In three, two,” Dom laughed, “one,” and he ripped the tape off in one swift downward yank.

Billy swore several times, clutching his chest and tears coming to his eyes as Dom doubled over, laughing hysterically.

“Check it out, check it out,” Dom laughed, calling the camera’s attention.

“That hurt!” Billy said, laughing almost as hard as Dom now. Dom held up the piece of tape for the camera.

“There’s a few hairs!” This caused them both to start laughing with renewed fervor all over again. While catching his breath, Billy examined his chest, then smiling, looked to the camera.

“That was nice, do it again.”

*~*~*

“His hair. There’s something very interesting with his hair. When he’s in a good mood, he spikes it all up, so he looks like a complete lunatic.”

Billy saw the interviewer look past Dom to Billy, as though checking to see if his hair was spiked at this moment. Billy had rolled his eyes at Dom’s statement, which was not entirely true thank you very much.

*~*~*

He wasn’t as old as Viggo, which wasn’t to say Viggo was old, but he wasn’t as young as Orlando, Dom, and Elijah, the three fucking musketeers, and Sean had a family, so he had a reason to act his age. Billy did not have a family. As a result, he felt entirely out of place with his 31 years weighing him down.

It seemed the general trend in Wellington and Queenstown; the younger folks spiked up their hair, and the end result was that even they looked younger than they were. Billy figured if he looked younger, he would feel younger as well.

So, when shooting ended for the day an unprecedented hour early, and Orlando announced they would be venturing to a pub in Hamilton (again) to celebrate, Billy left makeup and made his way to his flat, prepared to put his plan into action.

He hadn’t realized what an ordeal spiking your hair was. First there was the goop you had to use, which not only stuck in clumps to your hair but also congealed all over your hands, making a mess of everything you then touched. Then there was the actual process of making the hair stand up spike-like.

Billy’s first attempt left him looking as though he had stuck his hand in an electrical socket, so he had to hop in for a quick shower to rinse his hair out, and then toweled it dry and waited to try again. He felt better about his second attempt, felt as though he was able to knick off a year or four, and was practically skipping around the flat when his mobile rang. It was Dom, waiting to be buzzed up, he knew before he even answered.

Once inside the building, Dom raced up the stairs taking them two at a time and then proceeded to hammer on Billy’s door, shouting about them always being late. He was mid-sentence into his rant when Billy swung the door open, grinning like an idiot.

Dom stood there in the hall, mouth still wrapped around whatever word he was about to utter or had been in the middle of completing, blinked and shook his head.

“Bills,” he said quietly, grinning. He brought a hand to Billy’s hair, but Billy moved away. It had taken too long to get it spiked, he wasn’t about to let Dom mess it up. “You look like…” but he trailed off, because Dom knew Billy as well as he knew himself, and he knew that, although Billy was looking like his usual collected self, Billy was really waiting for Dom to tell him just what he looked like. Dom cleared his throat. “Well done. Now that you look our age I’ll have to pull even more girls away from you at the pub. Honestly, creating more work for me, that’s not very nice.” Billy grinned, and the change in his posture—from stiff to loose—was not lost on Dom. “Come on then, or we really will be late.”

*~*~*

“His voice. Very good.” Dom shifted in his seat nonchalantly, and Billy allowed himself a secret smile.

*~*~*

Dom had made it perfectly clear that he did not care how many days in a row he had to work, as long as he was free the day Billy filmed the Hope Fades scene. Dom knew Billy was composing the melody and helping with the instrumentation for the piece, and it was driving him mad because Billy refused to sing it.

So when that day came, Dom rose bright and early, after a slight coaxing from Billy, come on Dommie, if you want to come you’ve got to get up and then a not-so-slight coaxing, Christ Bill as Billy’s hands roamed from Dom’s chest to his groin.

And almost an hour later they were on set, and for the first time while being on the same set Billy went to get his feet put on and Dom did not. Dom made himself useful though, and in addition to bringing Billy his porridge, he also brought thermoses of coffee to the makeup artists and wardrobe crew. He flipped through Billy’s cd book several times, not selecting anything simply because he was looking through it as a way to pass the time, not because he was searching for a cd, and had expended all possible ideas of entertaining himself about half an hour before Billy was ready for the scene.

So Dom went outside of the trailer for a while and played hacky sack with himself, then went back inside and fidgeted around for a bit, then was told to go back outside.

When Billy greeted him it was as Pippin, and Dom suddenly felt an odd sense of being out of place; whenever Billy was Pippin, and Dom was near, Dom was always, always Merry. It was odd to be Dom and Pippin; it was as though they were crossing some unspoken boundary. Dom shook it off, though, and followed Billy onto set.

Dom stood behind Camera 2, rolling onto his tiptoes so as to better see over the technician. There was quiet on the set, 3, 2, 1, action…

“Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Mist and shadow, cloud and shade,
All shall fade, all shall fade.”


There was absolute silence on the set as Billy finished. Dom thought of everything their characters had been through, Frodo and Sam going to hell and back, the many battles Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn had to face, Gandalf disappearing into a fiery abyss only to join them once again, the death of Boromir as he gave his life to save Merry and Pippin, and then the separation of those two young, mischievous best friends…

Auditioning for a generic hobbit when he had a cold, leaving feeling almost positive he did not get the part, and then getting the call among some of his theater mates, and how he walked calmly from the room and once he got outside let go of all composure and jumped up and down, swinging his arms in the air and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Leaving his family and his friends and his life and boarding a plane that would take over 20 hours to get him to the other side of the world. Being the last member of the Fellowship (although they weren’t really a fellowship then, were they?) to arrive and being yanked into wardrobe an hour after he had settled in and had a tour of the set and meeting Billy and Elijah for the first time as they came out of wardrobe and just embracing them.

Waking up at four in the morning to be in makeup by five and then spending an hour and a half getting feet and ears and wigs applied, all the while loving each other’s company, then trekking through muck and fields and Dom’s allergies acting up for the majority of the day.

Spending hours on end stuck up in Treebeard, laughing with Billy, only Billy, then going to visit the others on their locations and quite easily putting up with Orlando when they visited him and John and Viggo because really they worked for an awful long time in the cold and rain and dark and they deserved to be cranky.

Spending those days with just Billy while they were filming on location, when they had arranged to have their own little cabin and had stolen Orlando’s video camera and filled at least eight videos worth of home movies.

And now, less than a month left.

There was silence when Billy finished singing, but that was only because Dom couldn’t find enough air to even breathe.

Later that night, Billy hummed and murmured against Dom’s ear as he moved above him, inside him, moving and pivoting so that Dom would release the most delicious sounds from his beautiful mouth.

“Come for me, Dommie,” Billy sighed in a voice that was all sex, and Dom did.

*~*~*

“He’s got quite enchanting eyes. You know how it is with the eclipse? If you keep looking at it for a certain amount of time, you can’t stop—you have to keep looking at it. That’s like Billy’s eyes.” Here Dom paused, glancing over his shoulder, giving Billy a wink the interviewer couldn’t see. “If you look at them for more than 20 or 30 seconds, then you’re hooked,” he explained, turning back around. Dom let out a laugh, rubbing his chin idly. “There have been a couple of times in bars where I’ve had to pull girls away, so they’d stop looking at his eyes…otherwise you’ll be there the rest of your life!”

Billy made a noise of protest (that does not happen all the time or maybe you just don’t notice it), but Dom only insisted more vehemently that what he was saying was fact.

*~*~*

“Unbelievable. He doesn’t do a damn thing and they flock around him like some type of…” Elijah paused, waving his beer around as he tried to think of the word he was looking for. He took a swig, finishing off the rest of his drink and concluded, “…like some type of thing that flocks.”

“Brilliant, Elijah, truly,” Orlando, who drank just as much as Elijah but didn’t reveal it, commented, signaling for another beer.

Dom turned to where Elijah had been indicating and saw Billy (thank god he hadn’t spiked his hair this time) leaning comfortably against the bar, two girls nodding their heads vigorously as he spoke. He found himself clenching his teeth as Billy made a move to leave, only to be held back by two pairs of hands.

“Unbelievable,” Dom muttered, rising and weaving his way through the throngs of people inside the pub. He cleared his throat upon approaching the two girls, who he realized must be younger than even he, and threw an arm casually around Billy’s shoulder. “You’re wanted elsewhere,” Dom said, his voice not giving away his true intentions, leaving the meaning of his words to be interpreted openly.

“We’ve only just met!” one of the girls, a redhead, said, pouting rather fetchingly. Dom nodded, moved his hand down to rest securely(possessively) around Billy’s hips, and put himself between the girls and Billy.

“Good night,” he said not unpleasantly, and led Billy away.

*~*~*

Dom shifted in his chair, adopting a more slouched position, lacing his fingers behind his head.

“I really liked the smell of his car when we were in New Zealand, because we used to keep our surfboards in there, and his car just absolutely reeked of rotting wetsuits and sand and protein shakes. Billy didn’t care about that.”

Billy was grinning, and he leaned back against the wall, head tilted to the ceiling. He remembered the first time Dom spilled one of said protein shakes in his car. It certainly wasn’t the last time.

*~*~*

Sean had supported Dom as they made their way to Billy’s car, Dom’s voice a steady stream of swearing as he winced every time his left foot hit the sand.

“Fucking jellyfish. Fucking bloody fucking jellyfish. Goddamn Pete’s going to kill me.”

“You’re lucky we aren’t shooting tomorrow,” Elijah said, heaving Dom’s surfboard into the backend of Billy’s car. Dom glared at him and probably had some choice words to share with his young friend, but Orlando pushed past Elijah to open up the car door and Dom let it go.

“What do you do for a jellyfish sting?” Orlando asked.

“You mean aside from rubbing sharp shards of sand all along the burns?” Dom asked sarcastically, glaring at Sean who, in his infinite (and correct) wisdom, had done just that.

“It’s just a wee sting, Dom. The jelly wasn’t that big,” Billy said and there was laughter in his voice, no mocking, no teasing, just laughter, as he handed Dom a cool protein shake. Dom grumbled something incoherent, before thanking Sean again for his help, and he and Billy bid their friends farewell.

Dom had innocently(deliberately) placed his hand on Billy’s thigh as they pulled away, and Billy glanced at him quickly, but Dom was staring straight ahead as though nothing were out of the ordinary. His hand rested about midway on his thigh as they rode away from the shore, and it wasn’t until they reached open road that it moved.

“Dom,” Billy said, and the warning in his voice was not at all concealed. The hand stopped, patted Billy’s thigh where it lay, and rested once again. Billy felt the urge to shift uncomfortably, but stifled it, knowing that no good would come of any movement on his part.

It hardly seemed to matter, however, because several minutes later Dom’s hand was groping him very thoroughly, and although it shouldn’t have, it shocked Billy so much that he swerved into the opposite lane, corrected himself, pulled to the side of the road, and stopped the car. He whipped around and glared at Dom, who had taken his hand away sometime between Billy almost killing them and stopping and his irritation subsided as he saw pale, milky protein shake all in Dom’s lap and down onto the floor of his car. Dom looked sad to see his shake wasted.

“It’s your own fault, you know,” Billy said, starting the engine again. Dom frowned, looked at Billy, and as Billy pulled back onto the road, Dom shifted.

“That’s alright. I’ll drink yours.”

*~*~*

“He got me into a couple of bands I really liked.” Dom shot Billy a meaningful look, and Billy understood it without having to interpret it. Billy certainly introduced Dom to ‘a couple’ of bands, however Dom and Elijah introduced him to at least a hundred.

Which wasn’t to say Billy liked them. At all.

*~*~*

It was a particularly freezing morning, and Billy wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped up snuggled beneath his covers and around Dom. It was customary for him to wake several minutes before the alarm actually went off, as a result of what Dom deemed his, “Stupid fucking innate alarm clock.” Billy didn’t mind it, though. It gave him an opportunity to just look at Dom, without Dom trying to perform in some way or another.

Inevitably, though, the alarm would sound, Dom would swear and moan and groan, and Billy would reach over Dom to shut off the blasted noise while kissing the life into him.

“It’s a new day,” he’d say.

“It’s always a new day,” Dom would reply, though only because Billy knew this was the reply was he able to understand the incoherency of what Dom was mumbling.

On this particular morning, because it was so cold, Dom snuggled deeper against Billy, pulling them both farther under the covers. Billy watched as Dom fell back into a light sleep. He glanced at the clock, and decided they could afford several more minutes.

“Bloody fucking cold. I can see my breath,” and to this end Dom began purposefully breathing out of his mouth in order to watch his breath fog out in front of his face as he and Billy made their way from Billy’s car into the trailer. Elijah and Sean were already there, thin Styrofoam cups of steaming coffee warming their hands.

“Cold today,” Elijah said. Dom looked at him as though he was an idiot, and Elijah giggled. It was so odd to hear a giggle coming from a boy, but then again Elijah was one of a kind.

They fell into an early morning silence which was only broken after Elijah had put his CDs into the player. Turning the volume, Radiohead blasted from the speakers moments later.

Dom and Elijah both immediately picked up the lyrics, bobbing their heads along with the beat. Sean requested they turn it down just a bit and Elijah readily complied, but Billy was just not in the mood for this.

“What do you want then, Billy?” Elijah asked good-naturedly. Elijah was almost always good-natured. Or maybe he was just easy-going. Billy doubted that it was because he didn’t give a damn. Elijah always gave a damn.

“I don’t mean to be a bother, but would you mind very much going to my car and bringing the folder in the dash back?” Billy asked the makeup artist who applied his feet. Billy couldn’t go, as his feet were halfway on. The makeup artist didn’t seem to mind at all, as long as he could get a cup of coffee along the way.

When he came back in, he handed the black cloth folder to Billy, who opened it. Dom was trying to see over Billy’s shoulder from where he was standing, getting his feet applied, to see just what CDs Billy had, but Billy would not let him. He selected a silver CD with black writing and tossed it, successfully, to Elijah.

Elijah contorted himself in an altogether amusing manner in order to not move his feet at all and at the same time reach the CD player, and managed to somehow exchange one CD for Billy’s. The others applauded his efforts as a lilting voice took up a somewhat melancholy song, unfamiliar instruments playing in the background.

“The Norse flute,” Billy explained, when Elijah asked what the main instrument was.

That evening, Dom burned the CD, then proceeded to rummage through the rest of Billy’s CD collection, asking about each, listening to several songs on each, and burning ones he liked.

*~*~*

“Choice of movies. He’s got very good taste in films.”

No surprise there. Billy and Dom had similar tastes in theater and what roles they truly appreciated, so it wasn’t at all surprising to Billy that Dom had said this. In fact, of the three or four things Billy was almost completely positive Dom would list, this was one of them.

*~*~*

“We’re not spending the better part of the evening in the video store.”

“Right.”

“I mean it, Dom. Very serious, here.”

“Of course.”

“Dominic,”

“Billeh,” and Dom said his name with that slight inflection that wasn’t natural, it was entirely planned and Billy felt a pleasant shiver ghost down his spine. Dom was giving him That Look, the look he always gave when he knew he was about to get his way. “Why don’t you choose for us tonight, Bill?” Billy started to protest. “That alright with you wankers?” Dom asked, addressing the backseat passengers.

“On you go then,” Orlando said, highly absorbed in watching Elijah battle tiny spaceships on his Game Boy.

“Whatever,” Elijah said, and Dom made a face at him, because sometimes he really could be so petulant. Turning back to Billy, he nodded, and now That Look was accompanied by an incredibly smug grin.

“Have at it, Billy,” he said, sitting back in his seat.

“No second opinions?” Billy asked, leaning out the door. Dom waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Go on, go on. Whatever you pick, your choice. We’re not spending the better part of the evening in the video store, so hurry up with it.” Billy shot Dom a look, not entirely threatening, and filed in among the people walking in and out of Wellington’s equivalent to an out-dated Blockbuster.

He returned rather quickly, indeed not even ten minutes had passed, and Dom suspected that most of the time that had passed had been spent waiting in line to rent the video.

“You’ve got one already?” Elijah asked, obviously feeling the motion of the car as they pulled away.

“Bloody record time,” Orlando teased.

“Fuck off,” Dom said good-naturedly. “If you ladies had been paying any attention at all, you would have known that our lovely Billy selected the movie for this evening.”

“What’d you get?” Elijah asked, but Billy just tucked the plastic bag under his arm, keeping the video box out of Elijah’s reach.

They went back to Elijah’s flat, because it was closest, and because it was common—albeit unspoken—knowledge that Billy and Dom would not mind at all sharing the futon he had in his living area. Orlando could pull up a nice piece of floor for all he cared, just as long he had a pillow. Funny thing that, about Orlando; he never looked disheveled, not a hair was ever out of place and though some critics abhorred his fashion sense, he always looked good in what he wore, yet he didn’t care at all where he slept. His flat was unbelievably untidy as well.

Dom said that Orlando made up for his messy habits by keeping himself looking sharp all the time. Orlando told him to fuck off.

“Is it going to stay a great fucking mystery all night?” Orlando asked, flopping down on the futon that was still in its couch position. Billy paid him no attention, instead delicately taking the plastic box from within the bag, popping it open and flipping it over so that the tape fell into his hands. He pushed it smoothly into the VCR, all the while keeping the name on the box out of Elijah’s sight, not that he was leaning halfway off the futon to get a good look at it, or anything.

The opening credits rolled across the black and white screen, old music blaring in the background. The title appeared in big, looping letters, and then the movie began.

Dom knew Billy was not watching the movie. He had obviously seen it before, after selecting it so quickly from the store, he must have gone in looking specifically for it, but if Billy wanted to watch it over again that could only mean it was good. That Billy was not, in fact, watching the movie he had selected was slightly confusing to Dom.

He knew Billy wasn’t watching it, because he could feel Billy’s eyes on him the entire time.

Only after Orlando said it had been the weirdest thing he’d ever seen, and Elijah said he could see how it had its merits but didn’t really like it that much, did Dom realize that Billy had been watching him because he wanted Dom to like the movie.

Dom had, and told him so, and encouraged Billy to accompany him when it was his turn to select the video for their rare nights in.

*~*~*

“Oh, here’s another good thing about Billy: If you’re ever in a restaurant where you’ve never been before, Billy will always pick the restaurant’s main meal—the one that they do the best. No matter what it is, he’ll always go for it.”

Billy found himself nodding along at that statement, because it was absolutely true. He also found a small smile curling along his mouth, because he hadn’t realized it was something Dom appreciated.

*~*~*

Shortly into filming--not even a month had passed since the entire fellowship had met in New Zealand--everyone decided to go out together to get to know each other just a little bit better. It was Viggo’s idea. Things like this were always Viggo’s ideas.

The nine of the fellowship along with Liv, who was in New Zealand for the first time and
just meeting the cast and crew, Hugo, Ian, Peter, Fran, Phil, Christopher, a handful of the crew and many, many stuntmen (and women) thoroughly monopolized a small, yet elegantly comfortable, restaurant outside of Wellington. They all pulled chairs out of the way and pushed tables together until they had two long tables running parallel to each other, and then they split up, sat down, and fell immediately into conversations with one another, not ordering for over an hour after they got there.

When everyone did finally settle down enough to open their menus, a vast array of food many had never tried before met their gazes, and as happens most in situations like these, many people ordered food that closely resembled a favorite of theirs from ‘back home’, wherever that may be.

Dom had no clue what to order. He was a fairly open gent, willing to try new things, but the contents of several dishes were absolutely lost on him. The waiter was taking Orlando’s order, and Orlando was seated next to Billy, and Billy was seated next to him, and really, this shouldn’t be all that complicated.

Except Billy hadn’t even opened his menu.

“What is your main meal?” he asked the waiter instead. The waiter listed off two or three items, Dom couldn’t be sure, it was too loud for him to hear clearly, and Billy shook his head. “What is it that you do the best? I’ll have whatever that is.” The waiter looked a bit amused and also impressed, and jotted down on his note pad whatever they did the best. He turned then to Dom, who said quite smartly,

“I’ll have that as well.”

*~*~*

“Fear of heights. Billy’s got a great fear of heights that he just doesn’t question. I’m very scared of heights, too, and when we went to do this bungee jump, I said to him, ‘We’re going to conquer our fear of heights. Come on, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll do a bungee jump, and then you can always say you did it.’ And Billy was like, ‘No. I’m afraid of heights, and that’s the type of person I am, and that’s what I’m sticking to.’” Dom laughed. “I like that!”

Billy felt just a bit of pride then, because even though no one had given him a hard time about it, ever, he always felt as though there was some sort of unspoken disappointment in him for not going along with Dom and Orlando. That Dom had just said what he said made the minute, lingering feeling of regret disappear completely.

*~*~*

When Orlando had approached him waving the bright orange flyer, gushing enthusiastically about what a rush it would be and this and that and the other thing, Dom had had to catch Orlando’s hand, rip the flyer from his grasp, and run his eyes over it because Orlando was just talking too fast.

“A bungee jump,” he stated, eyes moving from the flyer to Orlando.

“The largest one in New Zealand. Four hundred feet, Sblomie,” Orlando replied, eyes bright with excitement, barely able to contain the adrenaline rushing through his body.

A brief though poignant vision of falling out of a tree while trying to claim a boomerang flashed through his mind and he gasped softly, then shook his head to clear it.

“We’re not minding those lovely letters, then?” Dom asked, not that they had been minding them anyway when they learned to surf and snowboard and all sorts of other things they had been asked not to do.

“There’s just far too much fun to be had.” And Dom knew it was true.

At the pub that night, Dom leaned across from Billy and tried to entice him to join them.

“No,” Billy said, at the first mention of a bungee jump.

“Bill, it’ll be brilliant. We’ll conquer our fears, we can do it together!”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’ve got no desire whatsoever to lay this fear to rest, just once?”

“None whatsoever.”

“We’ll do the bungee jump, and then you can always say you’ve done it. Won’t that be a fantastic thing to say?”

“Working on this production is fantastic enough,” and Dom knew it was true.

“Billy,” he whined. Billy gave him a look that clearly said he could not believe Dominic Monaghan had just *whined* and laughed.

“Dom, I’m perfectly comfortable with my fear of heights. It’s who I am, and I am sticking to it. There is no way you are going to get me up on that platform, four hundred feet above the ground, and then get me to hurl myself off of it. No thank you, but have at it yourself.” And Dom did.

*~*~*

“Sleeps like a dormouse at any opportunity. If Billy’s given 25 minutes to sleep, he’ll do it. Whereas if I’m given 25 minutes to sleep, I’ll run off and get a drink, go and call someone, play my Playstation…do 50 million things at the same time and get frustrated.”

Billy laughed along with Dom at that, remembering quite clearly one time when Dom actually had got a drink, called several people, and played some Playstation game against Elijah all in the same 25 minute time span.

*~*~*

Dom was not in a good mood at all when they reorganized to begin shooting again after someone had fixed the burnt-out light. Elijah was gloating over his most recent win against Dom, so Billy figured they had played Dom’s Playstation—which he carted around everywhere—but usually that wasn’t enough to put Dom out of sorts. Dom was a very, very good sport.

He caught snippets of what Elijah was whispering to Sean, something about Dom’s gran and things not going as they had planned, and Billy decided that Dom must have heard from his family concerning his grandmother, and that the news was apparently not the best.

He then noticed the stain on Dom’s costume, and wondered idly what it was before deducing that Dom had obviously gotten something to drink. To have to go into wardrobe and change would take at least another fifteen minutes, and Billy vowed to have a nice talk with Dom after the wardrobe people had their way with him, but for now he was just going to go back to sleep. It was fifteen more minutes, after all.

*~*~*

“Good surfer. He’s my main surfing buddy, which is always a good thing. He’s also my scuba-diving buddy and my kayaking and canoeing partner. So we have a great relationship both in and out of the water.” Ha. No kidding.

*~*~*

Two weeks before filming started, everyone had to take kayaking lessons. Dom and Billy were with Bean, Elijah and Sean were with Viggo, John flipped his and Orlando’s kayak over once already, and for whatever reason (because they could) Orlando would bump against Bean’s kayak and throw them off course. After much deliberation—most of which was Dom not shutting up until he got his way—Elijah and Sean were allowed their own kayak, and Dom and Billy were allowed their own kayak, just so everyone who would be riding in one knew how to paddle correctly. Dom and Billy dominated the races that ensued.

Week four, Billy went surfing with Dom for the first time, and that evening they told a completely enraptured Elijah and a slightly more cautious Sean and an absolutely exuberant Orlando about their experiences throughout the day, and how even though they spent most of the time under the water, it was absolutely brilliant. The next day, Orlando, Elijah, and Sean were out on the water (under the water) with them.

Week seven, Elijah came round banging on Billy’s door at an ungodly hour, shouting to him about the once in a lifetime opportunity to go canoeing and how Orlando was going to be Elijah’s partner and Dom was signed up to be Billy’s if Billy would just get his bloody ass out of bed. So he did, and while Orlando flipped himself and Elijah over several times, Billy and Dom made an amazing canoeing team. As for once in a lifetime, they went so many more times after that, Billy lost count.

Week twenty-three, Orlando tossed the idea of scuba-diving into the air and it was readily received. The next day, he, Dom, Elijah, Billy, Sean, and Viggo all signed up for scuba classes and as soon as they completed their courses, they spent the next weekend they had off purchasing all the necessary equipment and then messing around with it until they got it right. As soon as the opportunity presented itself after that, they rented a boat and scuba-dived. Orlando and Viggo were to make sure each other was functioning at all times, Elijah and Sean were to keep an eye on each other, and, as always, Dom and Billy were to look after each other.

Week twenty-seven, Billy led Dom back to his flat from a pub late in the night, and if it hadn’t been for Dom’s all-consuming lust (Billy’s murmuring to him and allowing his hands to roam had nothing to do with that, certainly not), they might have made it to his bed.

*~*~*

“Always shares his food. When we’re in a restaurant, Billy will always say, ‘Try this.’”

*~*~*
As always, Billy had ordered the restaurant’s main meal, ignoring completely Dom’s recommendation, which Dom had ordered himself.

“In Manchester, do as the Mancs,” Dom had griped, pouting, after he had been ignored.

“Have you ever tried this meal?” Billy asked as it was set down in front of him.

“Well, of course, I come here all the time…” but then Dom took a closer look. “Erm, no. Right.” And grinning idiotically, as he was prone to do, he began eating his meal.

“Here.”

“What?”

“Try some.”

“It looks, ehm, well, you know…”

“Dominic.”

“I’m only saying, is all.”

“You’ve lived in Manchester almost all your life, you’ve come to this restaurant thousands of times, and you’ve never tried this. Try it, Dommie.” And he did.

*~*~*

“We enjoy drinking pretty much the same amount, which is nice. If you’re going to spend a year and a half with someone, it’s good if you drink on the same level! Billy and I can keep up with each other, which is essential.”

Billy inwardly snorted at this, recalling quite clearly the time he and Dom drank the same amount, and yet somehow the night ended with Dom and Elijah pissing in a fountain in the middle of Wellington. Then again, that was only one instance.

*~*~*

Dom could almost always drink Elijah under the table, at least, in the beginning. Elijah’s tolerance grew steadily, as tends to happen, and soon he could almost keep up with Dom. So when Dom challenged him to a drinking contest, Billy raised an eyebrow, fully aware neither would back down, and he decided personally to drink along with them, just to see how truly smashed they were going to allow themselves to get before both decided it really was a good idea to stop.

It got to the point where he couldn’t decide how many bottle caps were in his pocket that he decided Dom was trashed enough, and if he was gone, then Elijah was lost.

“Dommie, I think we’ve all had enough.”

“No fucking way, Bills, nuh uh, I am going to beat this fucker, you just wait.”

“Fuck off, goddamn cunt. Take another, let’s go, it’s your turn.”

“Dominic,” Billy said, and there was no denying the edge in his voice, and even Elijah caught it but he smirked and taunted Dom.

“Go ahead, Dom, go on and leave and I win!” and Elijah threw his head back and laughed loudly.

“I am not about to bloody leave, come on then, get the next fucking round.” And Billy rose, somehow stealing Dom’s key ring from him in the process, which clearly indicated that Dom would be going home alone to his own flat that evening. “Oh fuck. Fuck, Lij,” he said, rising. “You win,” and he raced as best he could after Billy, weaving in and out of people, and also in the open because he didn’t know he was weaving, straight into Billy’s arms.

*~*~*

“I love the fact that he chose seventeen favorite things because he knew I could only think of sixteen!” Billy burst into giggles as the interviewer gave Dom an amused look.

“Actually, it’s eighteen.” Still unable to contain himself, Billy continued to giggle.

“Oh really.” Dom said, smirking. “My eighteen one is…” he trailed off for a moment. “Let me think. Oh—the fact that he always leaves his sunglasses everywhere. While I’ve been with him, he’s probably lost about seven or eight pairs. In New Zealand, he’d just leave them on café tables. What I used to do is just pick them up automatically, and a couple of hours later, he’d say ‘Oh, fuck! I left my sunglasses!’ I’d say, ‘No, Billy…here you go.’ That was my job: picking up sunglasses.”

Billy smiled, knowing there would be little asterisks in place of where Dom swore, but also smiled because Dom, once he had learned that Billy really did leave his sunglasses everywhere and had lost about five pairs, truly had taken it upon himself to grab the sunglasses and hand them to him hours later, when he’d realize he’d left them.

*~*~*

“Fidel’s?” Elijah asked, aghast. “You know, that’s referencing Communism,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“It’s a café,” Dom said, just as stubbornly. “That’s referencing food.” He whacked Elijah lightly on the back of his head upon passing him to go into the café. Elijah swore, hurrying after him, followed by Billy and Sean, all on a hobbit’s day off.

They ordered and ate and it was fantastic, especially for such a small café, and Dom swore it had to be one of the best cafés in Wellington, hands down.

It was Dom’s turn to pay, they didn’t do this often, most of the time they split the bill equally but once in a while they would take turns treating, and this was Dom’s turn, so while the others filed out, Dom flipped open his wallet, tossing several bills onto the table, which slid briefly, coming to a halt against a pair of shiny black sunglasses.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, smiling, as he gently picked up the sunglasses, twirling them around his fingers. As he was walking out of the café, Billy was bombarding back into it, Sean and Elijah laughing in the street behind him. The force of the collision and angle of impact forced Dom against the frame of the door, and forced Billy against his chest.

Recovering to whoops from Elijah, Billy backed away, smiling a characteristically goofy smile, and turned to go inside, when Dom caught his arm. He moved away from Billy, raising his arm in the air, and something dangled from his hand tauntingly.

“Lose your sunglasses, Bill?”

*~*~*

Dom finished his interview fairly quickly after that, he and Billy went to lunch, and then retired back to their flat.

That night they sat together in comfortable silence, both seated on their unbelievably worn-in but incredibly loved soft leather couch, Billy with a play in one hand, feet propped up on the dark red wood coffee table, Dom scribbling in his journal, back against the arm of the couch, feet resting in Billy’s lap, Billy’s other hand tracing nonsense against one of his ankles.

Dom paused in his writing to glance up at Billy, idly twirling his pen between his fingers. Billy’s eyes made their way from the black type on the pages of his play to meet Dom’s eyes, and he raised an eyebrow in question. Dom grinned, and went back to writing.

“Number forty-two,” he said, by way of explanation. “He always knows when I’m looking at him.” Billy smiled in return.

“What’s nineteen through forty-one?” he asked, turning down the corner of the page he had left off on and setting it aside. Dom closed his journal, hooking his pen on the metal spirals holding it together, and slid it underneath the cushion behind him.

“Come and find out.”