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monaboyd Mar. 11th, 2004 08:43 pm)
as-i-am.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 11th, 2004 08:43 pm)Title: Trouble In Here (1/?)
Pairing: Dom/Billy, implied Dom/Elijah and Billy/Ali
Rating: PG-13 for this part, for some language
Summary: The Oscars are over, Billy is moving on--but Dom isn't.
Disclaimer: Don't know these guys, don't own them. This never happened. I made it all up!
Notes: The title is shamelessly stolen from a Howie Day song. Which definitely fits the story, plus I like the title. Post-Oscars, angsty monaboyd. Yay!
Cause I couldn't make up a thing that you say, love.
There's trouble in here
Hold on, thing that I fear
The click-click of the latches on Billy's suitcase sounded sharp and hollow in the bleak stillness of the hotel room. Dom was staring at the wall, tracing patterns on the bland wallpaper with his eyes. It was one of those moments he hated--where the whole equilibrium of the Universe seemed to be off, and all he could do to keep balance was contribute to the ringing silence, tongue glued to the top of his mouth.
He'd been practicing in his head what to say for three days now. In his mind, every line was perfect, wrought with emotion and full of deep meaning, expressing precisely how he felt. He was filled with fiery justification, words that would make Billy give pause and listen, even change his mind. Trouble was, none of those words would come out now that they were to the moment. Dom had even forgotten most of them, as much as he'd tired himself out remembering them.
Billy moved away from the suitcase on the bed, grabbing up his travel bag from the vanity. Dom pushed hard, and forced something up and out his throat.
"You want me to come along to the airport?" His voice sounded strange and altogether too loud in the quiet room.
"Do as you like," Billy said, not looking at him.
This non-committal answer was not what Dom was seeking, and it made him turn his eyes back to the wallpaper, throat constricting.
Billy took his bag into the bathroom, and Dom heard the clink of bottles and toiletries as they were thrown in. Dom grew anxious. The moment was slipping away, and he still hadn't said anything he'd come to say.
"So." He finally got to his feet, speaking loud enough so Billy could hear him. "This is how it ends, huh? Not with a bang. Not down in flames. Just a little girly whimper."
Billy came back out, still not looking at him, shifting things around in his bag.
"How was it supposed to end?" He answered, voice so cool the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. "It's over now, isn't it? The Oscars, all that. We knew that would be the end of it."
Billy put his bag on top of his suitcase, doing up all the various zips and latches on it. Dom stared at it, swallowing hard, willing anger to push aside fear and let him speak.
"So you're just going back to Glasgow now?"
"Where else would I go?"
"When will I see you again?"
Billy shouldered his bag, swinging it around in a wide arc that Dom felt the wind off of. Billy still would not look at him, and Dom wanted to pin him to the wall, hold his head in place and make him look him in the eye.
Dom thought Billy wasn't going to answer. He watched him shift the bag around on his shoulder for a moment, then Billy said lowly. "What does it matter?"
"What does it matter!" Finally, the anger Dom wanted, even if his voice was cracking a bit. "How the fuck can you say that to me!"
Billy said nothing to this, so Dom took that as his cue to go on.
"I can't throw away all these years as easily as you can, Bill! Maybe it hasn't turned out the best in the end, but that doesn't cancel out everything that's happened. You can't just fucking walk out of my life like the past four years meant nothing to you!" Finally, some of those words he had practiced. He wanted to pat himself on the back.
"I can." Billy was gathering up his suitcase, using sharp, angry movements. "You made sure of that, didn't you?" It seemed it took as much courage for Billy to say this as it had for Dom to speak his mind.
"Me!" Dom's voice reached an alarmingly high octave. "Right, it's all my fault. This has nothing to do with you and Miss Prim and Proper."
Dom saw Billy bristle, could almost see the spines sticking out of his back. He had turned into some sort of snapping, angry little monster. Not just at this moment, but for days now. Weeks.
"Don't, Dom."
Dom couldn't help it though. His tongue was loosened and his anger was of the small petulant child variety. "Maybe I should have gotten an ugly hair cut and stuck golf balls in my cheeks."
Billy's response was quick and snappy. "Maybe I should have gotten blue contacts and turned myself into a dirty little whore."
"Better a whore in my bed than a whore off the street."
Billy finally met his eyes. He came at Dom, putting him instantly on guard. He stopped in front of him though, eyes flashing.
"Don't insult her, Dom." He was so angry his accent was slurred. "You can kick all the shite at me you want, but you leave her out of this."
Dom glared at him for a long moment, and Billy glared back. It was a contest of wills, who would look away first. Dom won. He wished he hadn't.
Dom sank back down in the chair, staring at the wall again, shaking. Billy finished gathering his things. The silence was terrible. Looming. Dreadful.
"I'm coming to the airport with you," Dom got to his feet again, as Billy made for the door.
"Do as you like."
Dom couldn't do as he liked, so he settled for following Billy down to the lobby. He stood away from him and smoked a cigarette while Billy called a cab on his cell. Dom thought the nicotine would stop his trembling, but it didn't. Made it worse, if anything.
Part of him said this was useless, ridiculous. Billy hated him, didn't want him going along. But another part of him said he had to go, that this was the most important moment of his life and he needed to be there. Couldn't just let him go like that.
Billy stood by the doors and stared out into the morning sunlight, leaning half against the glass, propped against his bag. His face was washed nearly white by the light, his eyes squinted. He seemed to be staring intently at something out in the parking lot.
Dom paced, finished his cigarette and ground it out in one of the little sand-filled urns near the doors. Then he paced some more, hands in his pockets, trying to recapture some of those rehearsed lines in his head. Everything hurt and hurt and hurt.
Dom only knew when the cab came because Billy quickly gathered up his things and headed out the doors. Trying to get away. Dom followed quickly.
Billy wouldn't let Dom help him get his suitcase in the trunk. Wouldn't let Dom open the door for him, or let Dom get in after him. He stood with his hand on the door, jaw clenched, waiting for Dom to get in. Finally Dom did, with a sigh, only because the cabbie was giving them a questioning look.
"LAX?" The cabbie asked.
"Yeah." It was the most Billy had spoken in twenty minutes.
Dom fidgeted as they drove. Pulled his cell phone out and checked it for messages. There were a few--two from Elijah--but he didn't listen to them. He played with the antenna, plucking and pulling at it. Staring out at the scenery rushing by. Feeling like it was the last day of his life.
Billy was staring straight ahead, hand in his jacket pocket, playing with something in there. His watch, maybe. Dom noticed he hadn't put it on this morning.
Finally Dom couldn't stand it. He was too sad to be angry anymore.
"It wasn't all bad, was it?" His voice was soft, soft enough to be heard just between them.
He saw those spines sticking out of Billy again, not so sharp this time, but definitely there. Billy shifted a bit on the seat, but didn't speak.
"You can hate me forever if you want." Dom looked out the window again, sunlight making his eyes burn. "But I just want to hear you say there were some good times."
There were more than some, and if Billy tried to deny that then he was a fucker. Days flashed through Dom's head--days of surfing, hiking, camping, all that rugged boy's stuff. But there were also days of sitting in some cozy little restaurant, drinking tea and whispering about things, laughing softly at each other's lame jokes. There were trips and crowds and quiet evenings in front of the telly watching cheesy movies. There was the way Billy cooked, and how Dom knew exactly what beer went with which meal, and friends and laughter and toasts to good health.
Above that though, or perhaps just beneath it, were nights spent in each other's arms. Secret kisses stolen behind trailers. The low, slow burn of arousal lingering throughout the day and finally realized at night. Watching Billy undress. Naughty messages left on phones. A love letter that still took Dom's breath away when he read it, tucked safely in the inside pocket of his jacket always, against his heart.
How that had all dissolved into a chirpy blond and Elijah sitting naked on Dom's lap smoking a cigarette when Billy walked in Dom's bedroom one Sunday morning, Dom couldn't say. He couldn't even remember who had thrown the first stone. They had never agreed to be 'exclusive,' but when they weren't, hell had come down fast and hard. Billy's spines had turned into razor sharp spikes, making Dom's hands bleed when he touched him. Pretty soon the blood was all over both of them.
"Just don't want it to end like this," Dom said, speaking more to the window than to Billy. "Not after everything we've been through."
He didn't know what Billy was feeling, and that was perhaps the most disconcerting part. Billy had been angry for so long that Dom wasn't sure how to read him anymore. Maybe he was sad, or hurt, but he didn't wear it on his face. Dom just wanted Billy to scream, to punch him and yell at him, to hold him down and yell 'why did you fucking do this to me!' Anything but the awful, dead silence Dom had been getting from him lately.
Dom wanted to tell him that he didn't blame him for Ali, that he understood, actually. Understood the need, the desire to have something real and with a possible future to hold on to. Someone who could go everywhere with him and keep him company. Dom had never told Billy he couldn't date other people. Had never called him and Billy a 'couple.' He wanted to ask Billy if he blamed him for Elijah. Or did he understand too?
Did he understand how Dom felt isolated from the rest of them? How he wasn't multi-talented like Billy, or special like Elijah, or political like Sean? Did he understand how Dom felt so very alone when Billy wasn't there, how that loneliness had made him reach for something? Did he understand that Elijah was a star, and it was so nice to just be acknowledged by him? Did he understand that Elijah was also a siren, the sort that wore his sexuality like a crown, and Dom was still a man and still attracted to sex for the sake of sex? Did he understand that Dom had never made love to Elijah and never fucked Billy?
Dom finally turned his face to Billy, not caring anymore if he saw the pain in his eyes. But he didn't, of course. Because Billy didn't look at him anymore.
"Just tell me there were some good times. That's all I want to hear." Dom whispered.
Billy wouldn't say it though. Wouldn't give Dom that least little dignity. What Dom had done to deserve that, he wasn't sure exactly. Whatever had gotten under Billy's skin and turned him to stone went beyond Ali and Elijah.
They were at the airport, and again, Billy wouldn't let Dom get the door, or help with the suitcase. Dom tried to pay the cabbie and Billy knocked his hand out of the way, shoving a wad of cash into the man's hand.
Dom felt alternately hurt and embarrassed, trailing Billy through the terminal like a puppy. His pride told him to turn around and stop making an idiot of himself, but his broken heart wouldn't allow it. He wanted to fling himself at Billy's feet and beg forgiveness for whatever it was that had brought them to this terrible point.
"You don't have to leave yet, you know," Dom kept a quick pace as he followed Billy from the check-in to the security gate. "You can go with Elijah and I to the Hidalgo premiere. You don't have any immediate obligations."
"I have things to do at home," Billy said, voice still cool as ever. He was staring hard at his ticket.
"Nothing that can't wait." Dom sounded like he was begging. He was.
Billy adjusted his bag on his shoulder and stared straight ahead.
"Don't do this," Dom dropped his voice low, not just for privacy, but so it wouldn't crack. "If you want to leave, fine. Leave. But don't do it like this. At least look at me. At least tell me it'll be all right. That we'll get over this and at least be friends again."
Dom stared hard at Billy's profile, desperate for some sign of emotion. Billy's jaw was tight, his lips pursed. His throat was working slightly, and it was the only tiny shred of hope that Dom had to cling to.
"Please." Dom begged softly, quickly moving past any semblance of shame. "Just tell me there were some good times. That you don't regret it."
The queue moved forward, and Billy was perilously close to the gate now. Only two people in front of him, taking off jewelry and dumping it in bins.
"Whatever I did, I'll make it right." Dom was trembling again. "I swear to God, I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me. At least tell me what I did. I can't stand this silence from you."
One more person. Dom was ready to grab him and hang on for dear life.
"Is it because of Elijah? Is it because of what I said about Ali? I take it back Billy--I love her! She's wonderful!"
Billy dropped his bag on the conveyor, and slipped his coat off, putting it neatly in one of the bins. Dom was nearly hyperventilating. He reached out and grabbed Billy's arm, and Billy shook him off hard. Without looking at him. A security guard nearby stepped a bit closer, and Dom backed off, hands shaking.
"Billy...please...don't leave like this. Just say there was something good."
Billy moved through the gate, and Dom half hoped the alarm would go off. It didn't though, and Billy stepped through, then moved over to grab his bag and coat coming through the conveyor.
Dom moved to where he could see him, vision swimming and blurring. He watched Billy pull his coat back on, slowly and carefully, then pick up his bag. He slipped his hand into his pocket, toying again with whatever was in there.
Dom felt his heart sink to his feet. He almost fell to his knees.
Then, just as Billy started to walk away toward the gates, he turned and looked back at Dom. Really looked at him, like he hadn't looked at him in a long time, eyes meeting eyes. Dom's breath stopped as he saw the tears in Billy's eyes, the unabashed look of anguish on his face. It was the raw, unleavened hurt that he had hidden from Dom all this time.
Then he turned, and disappeared down the corridor. Dom wanted to jump the security railing, and would have, if the immediate result wouldn't have been handcuffs.
Dom stood there for at least fifteen minutes, staring at the empty air where Billy had been, as though he could will him back. The security guard kept looking at him, and finally Dom turned and walked slowly back through the terminal and out into the harsh morning sun.
Sitting on the curb, he pulled out his cell and called a cab. Then he checked his messages and listened to Elijah's voice, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand.
That's when he noticed his leather wrist cuff was missing.
TBC
Pairing: Dom/Billy, implied Dom/Elijah and Billy/Ali
Rating: PG-13 for this part, for some language
Summary: The Oscars are over, Billy is moving on--but Dom isn't.
Disclaimer: Don't know these guys, don't own them. This never happened. I made it all up!
Notes: The title is shamelessly stolen from a Howie Day song. Which definitely fits the story, plus I like the title. Post-Oscars, angsty monaboyd. Yay!
Cause I couldn't make up a thing that you say, love.
There's trouble in here
Hold on, thing that I fear
The click-click of the latches on Billy's suitcase sounded sharp and hollow in the bleak stillness of the hotel room. Dom was staring at the wall, tracing patterns on the bland wallpaper with his eyes. It was one of those moments he hated--where the whole equilibrium of the Universe seemed to be off, and all he could do to keep balance was contribute to the ringing silence, tongue glued to the top of his mouth.
He'd been practicing in his head what to say for three days now. In his mind, every line was perfect, wrought with emotion and full of deep meaning, expressing precisely how he felt. He was filled with fiery justification, words that would make Billy give pause and listen, even change his mind. Trouble was, none of those words would come out now that they were to the moment. Dom had even forgotten most of them, as much as he'd tired himself out remembering them.
Billy moved away from the suitcase on the bed, grabbing up his travel bag from the vanity. Dom pushed hard, and forced something up and out his throat.
"You want me to come along to the airport?" His voice sounded strange and altogether too loud in the quiet room.
"Do as you like," Billy said, not looking at him.
This non-committal answer was not what Dom was seeking, and it made him turn his eyes back to the wallpaper, throat constricting.
Billy took his bag into the bathroom, and Dom heard the clink of bottles and toiletries as they were thrown in. Dom grew anxious. The moment was slipping away, and he still hadn't said anything he'd come to say.
"So." He finally got to his feet, speaking loud enough so Billy could hear him. "This is how it ends, huh? Not with a bang. Not down in flames. Just a little girly whimper."
Billy came back out, still not looking at him, shifting things around in his bag.
"How was it supposed to end?" He answered, voice so cool the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. "It's over now, isn't it? The Oscars, all that. We knew that would be the end of it."
Billy put his bag on top of his suitcase, doing up all the various zips and latches on it. Dom stared at it, swallowing hard, willing anger to push aside fear and let him speak.
"So you're just going back to Glasgow now?"
"Where else would I go?"
"When will I see you again?"
Billy shouldered his bag, swinging it around in a wide arc that Dom felt the wind off of. Billy still would not look at him, and Dom wanted to pin him to the wall, hold his head in place and make him look him in the eye.
Dom thought Billy wasn't going to answer. He watched him shift the bag around on his shoulder for a moment, then Billy said lowly. "What does it matter?"
"What does it matter!" Finally, the anger Dom wanted, even if his voice was cracking a bit. "How the fuck can you say that to me!"
Billy said nothing to this, so Dom took that as his cue to go on.
"I can't throw away all these years as easily as you can, Bill! Maybe it hasn't turned out the best in the end, but that doesn't cancel out everything that's happened. You can't just fucking walk out of my life like the past four years meant nothing to you!" Finally, some of those words he had practiced. He wanted to pat himself on the back.
"I can." Billy was gathering up his suitcase, using sharp, angry movements. "You made sure of that, didn't you?" It seemed it took as much courage for Billy to say this as it had for Dom to speak his mind.
"Me!" Dom's voice reached an alarmingly high octave. "Right, it's all my fault. This has nothing to do with you and Miss Prim and Proper."
Dom saw Billy bristle, could almost see the spines sticking out of his back. He had turned into some sort of snapping, angry little monster. Not just at this moment, but for days now. Weeks.
"Don't, Dom."
Dom couldn't help it though. His tongue was loosened and his anger was of the small petulant child variety. "Maybe I should have gotten an ugly hair cut and stuck golf balls in my cheeks."
Billy's response was quick and snappy. "Maybe I should have gotten blue contacts and turned myself into a dirty little whore."
"Better a whore in my bed than a whore off the street."
Billy finally met his eyes. He came at Dom, putting him instantly on guard. He stopped in front of him though, eyes flashing.
"Don't insult her, Dom." He was so angry his accent was slurred. "You can kick all the shite at me you want, but you leave her out of this."
Dom glared at him for a long moment, and Billy glared back. It was a contest of wills, who would look away first. Dom won. He wished he hadn't.
Dom sank back down in the chair, staring at the wall again, shaking. Billy finished gathering his things. The silence was terrible. Looming. Dreadful.
"I'm coming to the airport with you," Dom got to his feet again, as Billy made for the door.
"Do as you like."
Dom couldn't do as he liked, so he settled for following Billy down to the lobby. He stood away from him and smoked a cigarette while Billy called a cab on his cell. Dom thought the nicotine would stop his trembling, but it didn't. Made it worse, if anything.
Part of him said this was useless, ridiculous. Billy hated him, didn't want him going along. But another part of him said he had to go, that this was the most important moment of his life and he needed to be there. Couldn't just let him go like that.
Billy stood by the doors and stared out into the morning sunlight, leaning half against the glass, propped against his bag. His face was washed nearly white by the light, his eyes squinted. He seemed to be staring intently at something out in the parking lot.
Dom paced, finished his cigarette and ground it out in one of the little sand-filled urns near the doors. Then he paced some more, hands in his pockets, trying to recapture some of those rehearsed lines in his head. Everything hurt and hurt and hurt.
Dom only knew when the cab came because Billy quickly gathered up his things and headed out the doors. Trying to get away. Dom followed quickly.
Billy wouldn't let Dom help him get his suitcase in the trunk. Wouldn't let Dom open the door for him, or let Dom get in after him. He stood with his hand on the door, jaw clenched, waiting for Dom to get in. Finally Dom did, with a sigh, only because the cabbie was giving them a questioning look.
"LAX?" The cabbie asked.
"Yeah." It was the most Billy had spoken in twenty minutes.
Dom fidgeted as they drove. Pulled his cell phone out and checked it for messages. There were a few--two from Elijah--but he didn't listen to them. He played with the antenna, plucking and pulling at it. Staring out at the scenery rushing by. Feeling like it was the last day of his life.
Billy was staring straight ahead, hand in his jacket pocket, playing with something in there. His watch, maybe. Dom noticed he hadn't put it on this morning.
Finally Dom couldn't stand it. He was too sad to be angry anymore.
"It wasn't all bad, was it?" His voice was soft, soft enough to be heard just between them.
He saw those spines sticking out of Billy again, not so sharp this time, but definitely there. Billy shifted a bit on the seat, but didn't speak.
"You can hate me forever if you want." Dom looked out the window again, sunlight making his eyes burn. "But I just want to hear you say there were some good times."
There were more than some, and if Billy tried to deny that then he was a fucker. Days flashed through Dom's head--days of surfing, hiking, camping, all that rugged boy's stuff. But there were also days of sitting in some cozy little restaurant, drinking tea and whispering about things, laughing softly at each other's lame jokes. There were trips and crowds and quiet evenings in front of the telly watching cheesy movies. There was the way Billy cooked, and how Dom knew exactly what beer went with which meal, and friends and laughter and toasts to good health.
Above that though, or perhaps just beneath it, were nights spent in each other's arms. Secret kisses stolen behind trailers. The low, slow burn of arousal lingering throughout the day and finally realized at night. Watching Billy undress. Naughty messages left on phones. A love letter that still took Dom's breath away when he read it, tucked safely in the inside pocket of his jacket always, against his heart.
How that had all dissolved into a chirpy blond and Elijah sitting naked on Dom's lap smoking a cigarette when Billy walked in Dom's bedroom one Sunday morning, Dom couldn't say. He couldn't even remember who had thrown the first stone. They had never agreed to be 'exclusive,' but when they weren't, hell had come down fast and hard. Billy's spines had turned into razor sharp spikes, making Dom's hands bleed when he touched him. Pretty soon the blood was all over both of them.
"Just don't want it to end like this," Dom said, speaking more to the window than to Billy. "Not after everything we've been through."
He didn't know what Billy was feeling, and that was perhaps the most disconcerting part. Billy had been angry for so long that Dom wasn't sure how to read him anymore. Maybe he was sad, or hurt, but he didn't wear it on his face. Dom just wanted Billy to scream, to punch him and yell at him, to hold him down and yell 'why did you fucking do this to me!' Anything but the awful, dead silence Dom had been getting from him lately.
Dom wanted to tell him that he didn't blame him for Ali, that he understood, actually. Understood the need, the desire to have something real and with a possible future to hold on to. Someone who could go everywhere with him and keep him company. Dom had never told Billy he couldn't date other people. Had never called him and Billy a 'couple.' He wanted to ask Billy if he blamed him for Elijah. Or did he understand too?
Did he understand how Dom felt isolated from the rest of them? How he wasn't multi-talented like Billy, or special like Elijah, or political like Sean? Did he understand how Dom felt so very alone when Billy wasn't there, how that loneliness had made him reach for something? Did he understand that Elijah was a star, and it was so nice to just be acknowledged by him? Did he understand that Elijah was also a siren, the sort that wore his sexuality like a crown, and Dom was still a man and still attracted to sex for the sake of sex? Did he understand that Dom had never made love to Elijah and never fucked Billy?
Dom finally turned his face to Billy, not caring anymore if he saw the pain in his eyes. But he didn't, of course. Because Billy didn't look at him anymore.
"Just tell me there were some good times. That's all I want to hear." Dom whispered.
Billy wouldn't say it though. Wouldn't give Dom that least little dignity. What Dom had done to deserve that, he wasn't sure exactly. Whatever had gotten under Billy's skin and turned him to stone went beyond Ali and Elijah.
They were at the airport, and again, Billy wouldn't let Dom get the door, or help with the suitcase. Dom tried to pay the cabbie and Billy knocked his hand out of the way, shoving a wad of cash into the man's hand.
Dom felt alternately hurt and embarrassed, trailing Billy through the terminal like a puppy. His pride told him to turn around and stop making an idiot of himself, but his broken heart wouldn't allow it. He wanted to fling himself at Billy's feet and beg forgiveness for whatever it was that had brought them to this terrible point.
"You don't have to leave yet, you know," Dom kept a quick pace as he followed Billy from the check-in to the security gate. "You can go with Elijah and I to the Hidalgo premiere. You don't have any immediate obligations."
"I have things to do at home," Billy said, voice still cool as ever. He was staring hard at his ticket.
"Nothing that can't wait." Dom sounded like he was begging. He was.
Billy adjusted his bag on his shoulder and stared straight ahead.
"Don't do this," Dom dropped his voice low, not just for privacy, but so it wouldn't crack. "If you want to leave, fine. Leave. But don't do it like this. At least look at me. At least tell me it'll be all right. That we'll get over this and at least be friends again."
Dom stared hard at Billy's profile, desperate for some sign of emotion. Billy's jaw was tight, his lips pursed. His throat was working slightly, and it was the only tiny shred of hope that Dom had to cling to.
"Please." Dom begged softly, quickly moving past any semblance of shame. "Just tell me there were some good times. That you don't regret it."
The queue moved forward, and Billy was perilously close to the gate now. Only two people in front of him, taking off jewelry and dumping it in bins.
"Whatever I did, I'll make it right." Dom was trembling again. "I swear to God, I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me. At least tell me what I did. I can't stand this silence from you."
One more person. Dom was ready to grab him and hang on for dear life.
"Is it because of Elijah? Is it because of what I said about Ali? I take it back Billy--I love her! She's wonderful!"
Billy dropped his bag on the conveyor, and slipped his coat off, putting it neatly in one of the bins. Dom was nearly hyperventilating. He reached out and grabbed Billy's arm, and Billy shook him off hard. Without looking at him. A security guard nearby stepped a bit closer, and Dom backed off, hands shaking.
"Billy...please...don't leave like this. Just say there was something good."
Billy moved through the gate, and Dom half hoped the alarm would go off. It didn't though, and Billy stepped through, then moved over to grab his bag and coat coming through the conveyor.
Dom moved to where he could see him, vision swimming and blurring. He watched Billy pull his coat back on, slowly and carefully, then pick up his bag. He slipped his hand into his pocket, toying again with whatever was in there.
Dom felt his heart sink to his feet. He almost fell to his knees.
Then, just as Billy started to walk away toward the gates, he turned and looked back at Dom. Really looked at him, like he hadn't looked at him in a long time, eyes meeting eyes. Dom's breath stopped as he saw the tears in Billy's eyes, the unabashed look of anguish on his face. It was the raw, unleavened hurt that he had hidden from Dom all this time.
Then he turned, and disappeared down the corridor. Dom wanted to jump the security railing, and would have, if the immediate result wouldn't have been handcuffs.
Dom stood there for at least fifteen minutes, staring at the empty air where Billy had been, as though he could will him back. The security guard kept looking at him, and finally Dom turned and walked slowly back through the terminal and out into the harsh morning sun.
Sitting on the curb, he pulled out his cell and called a cab. Then he checked his messages and listened to Elijah's voice, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand.
That's when he noticed his leather wrist cuff was missing.
TBC
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Oh how I loved this.
It reminded me of the last lines of T.S. Eliot - The Hollow Men:
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Absolutely brilliant.
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I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you!
From: (Anonymous)
whoa...
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Suprising. Seriously
I just read this fic on a whim and I was like holy shit. I was just so blown away by how you wrote it. It was so taut and raw and it kept me hooked. Hell, I was almost wincing the whole way through, especially how Billy was so stand-offish, but clearly hurting and reacting to Dom.
I was just expecting it to be a downer the whole way through until the end, when Dom realizes that Billy took his cuff.
I don't know what you're going to do with this, but to me, that was like a breath of fresh air. Kind of like a promise that even though things are fucked up, they're gonna go somewhere.
Or maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic
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Re: Suprising. Seriously
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Re: Suprising. Seriously
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Thanks so much!
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and that little detaiul popped up. It totally just made me go "Yes!!"
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i feel like i can't say anything else! just.
i am dizzy with how much emotion that tore out of me .. just .. augh shame and devotion and fear and sadness and .. completely overwhelming. so frenetic and charged for the slow pace it had. very impressive
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Poor Dom, for being young and making mistakes and having poor judgement.
I saw the TBC, and I expect a new chapter SOON!
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Thank you so much for the feedback!
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Angsty angst - mmmm. And the wrist cuff!
*waits impatiently for more*
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