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monaboyd Mar. 16th, 2004 08:08 pm)
writteninsable.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 16th, 2004 08:08 pm)Title: Straight Translators
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
red_moon_rising (or Cai)
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Feedback: Yes, please
Dedication: This goes out toarabella_o and clearly_unable, just for being special.
Note #1: “Death-By-Bloody-Teaspoon” has been ™-ed by me. *smiles* I <3 it madly.
Note #2: This is the end. *is sad* However. *smiles* Other fics will follow. Don’t despair. I've already got one in the works titled Love Always I hope you all enjoyed the ride. *smiles* Thanks to everyone who commented, you were all far too nice and your kindness was most unexpected. *hugs you all*
Note #3: Straight Translators would never have gotten off the ground if it weren’t forarabella_o. I <3 her madly for her encouragement and patience, as well as her invaluable beta-skills. Yet another shout-out to mys1985 for her gracious help with the German from previous chapters. Thanks also go to blackazurite for help with German.
Other Chapters can be found here.
“But you know? That’s alright…”
Dom heard the words, he really did, but try as he might, he just couldn’t understand them. So, instead of opening his mouth and saying something he’d probably regret, he just stared.
Before he could do more than open and close his mouth on half-formed questions, though, Billy continued, saying, “Cause this whole denial thing? It hasn’t been working very well.”
Dom’s mind latched onto the one thing he thought he might be able to say without fucking everything up. So he licked his lips and asked, “Denial?”
Billy looked down at his newly-made cup of tea. He fumbled with the knob on the drawer before getting it open so he could reach inside for a teaspoon. Then, still refusing to look up, he measured out two teaspoons and stirred a few times, watching as the tea swirled in a clockwise direction. When all the sugar dissolved Billy poured in a bit of cream and continued stirring. Finally he sipped, letting the spoon clink against the rim of the teacup.
When he ran out of plausible reasons to not look Dom in the eye, he glanced up at Dom and said, “I have a mantra that runs through my head whenever I'm around you. Would you like to know what it is?” At Dom’s slight nod he continued, “'Straight, straight, straight, straight...' over and over again. And you know. It doesn’t bloody work.”
Dom just stared, aware that he'd done little else all morning. That didn't stop him, though, as it was his safest option. When the meaning behind Billy's words finally sunk in he couldn’t help it. He snickered. The snort of laughter slipped out before he could stop it and, even though he clamped a hand over his mouth, he was unable to stop more from escaping.
Billy flung the teaspoon at him.
Though Dom saw it coming and tried to duck away from it, the spoon still hit him just above his left eyebrow. He grunted as pain shot through his skull. It only took a moment for the throbbing to register before he clutched his forehead and began swearing. “Fucking hell, Billy! You great, bloody pillock! Hungover here! And ow. Ow fucking ow! What the fucking hell was that for, you daft twat?”
“You laughed!” Billy’s voice was indignant, but underneath Dom could sense that he was a little bit apologetic.
Dom considered just laying his head on the table and moaning, but decided that would take far too much effort. He settled for resting his elbows on the table and propping his head in his hands, grumbling, “And since when is laughing a crime punishable by Death-By-Bloody-Teaspoon? Stupid tosser.”
“Since it was a rather serious statement you were laughing at!” Billy’s voice was quickly losing whatever apology it once held.
“Serious my arse. You just said your mantra was ‘straight, straight, straight, bloody-straight.’ That’s fucking funny!” Dom didn’t really consider his words before he said them, still concentrating on the pain throbbing through his skull and down his neck, but he did catch the sad look that passed over Billy’s face before he turned back to his cup of tea.
Dom sighed and slowly got to his feet. He tried not to think about the fact that his stomach was going to voice its discontent. A wave of nausea took hold of him and he clutched at the edge of the table in an effort to keep himself from falling over. He gritted his teeth and, once the nausea finally subsided, he walked over to Billy.
"I'm sorry, mate.”
Billy just looked at him for a moment, taking in the ever-tousled hair and the pale skin. Dom must be suffering from one hell of a hangover, Billy thought as he tilted his head to the side and said, “I know, Dom. It’s just…sometimes…I really wish that things didn’t have to be so complicated with you.”
“Complicated?” Dom’s bewilderment came through quite clearly in his voice.
“Well, you’re not complicated. But…you know. With time differences, schedules…and everything that’s been buzzing around lately…” He sighed, sipping at his tea again.
“Billy, what are you trying to tell me?” Dom moved closer to Billy and rested his hand on the tiled counter top. He prayed that if he started to keel over, he'd be able grab hold of something before he caused permanent damage to anything important.
“I don’t know, Dom. I was so…set on having a normal life, on being like everyone else…I didn’t even see it, really…” Billy trailed off again, and Dom was left desperately trying to follow his logic.
“See what?” Dom felt like an incredibly stupid parrot.
“That my relationship with you has never really been normal. Every time you get trashed at a party I end up coming home with you. But, it’s not even really that, since I’ve always slept on the couch, at least before yesterday, anyway, so it's not sexual or anything like that. It's more…the touch…"
Dom couldn't quite wrap his mind around what he was hearing, but he tried, asking, "Touch?"
"You know…holding?" Billy seemed as confused as Dom was. He was lost in thought for a moment before continuing on. “Every time someone tells you ‘no’ I end up holding you. And I never quite understood why you always came to me, but I didn’t question it, either, even when Ali brought it up. You did it once when she was there. At one of the after-parties? She just got this look on her face. She didn't talk about it much, but she called me right after I'd packed you into a cab. She told me she'd be waiting up at the hotel. I couldn't just tell her that wasn't how it worked, so I went back to her and left you to fend for yourself. That was the only time I didn't stay over. It just didn't feel right, and I couldn't figure out why…” Billy just shook his head, trying his best to make sense of the things that were running through his mind.
Dom wanted to nod encouragingly, but his head felt far too delicate. This wasn't exactly a time when he could collapse and have everything work out alright in the end. So he stayed silent, didn't move, and tried to remain perfectly still as Billy looked away and continued.
"Ali said some things that just never added up. She knew we were all close, she understood that you were all part of my life. She hoped there would be room enough for her, too, but in the end it just didn't seem like there was. Not when people like you took up so much space and time, she said. I denied it all the time. What else could I do? She was right about everything, in the end, though.”
Billy looked up again. His eyes met Dom's and he whispered, "My life is full…but Ali kept talking about you and I think she was right, Dom.”
He stopped talking and looked at Dom expectantly Dom's brain took a moment to process Billy's words. When he had wrapped his mind around them, Dom asked, his voice very quiet and almost hesitant, "Right about what, Bills?”
“Right about you. And me. And…everything…us?” Billy shook his head, sounding as confused as he looked.
“Is there an ‘us,’ Bill?” Dom couldn’t quite keep the hope from his voice, and he was quite sure it was shining from his eyes. Damn eyes, his mind piped up sluggishly.
“I…I thought that you…would. If you’d like…”
Dom’s chest seized, his lungs locking almost painfully. It took him a moment to regain control, but when he did he said softly, “My bloody note wasn’t enough?”
“Your bloody note wouldn’t have been anything if Viggo hadn’t translated your chicken scratch,” Billy said, a small smile tilting up the corners of his lips.
Dom smiled back. He wanted more than anything simply sit down and enjoy the fact that he wasn’t hallucinating. Then he blinked. “I’d better not be hallucinating, damn it.”
Billy chuckled, placing his cup of tea on the counter. “You’re not hallucinating, Dom.” He reached up, fingers brushing at the fringe of spiky blond hair. Billy’s fingers grazed his temple and Dom winced. Billy’s eyes narrowed and stepped closer, moving the hair away from Dom’s forehead. He saw a rather large bruise near Dom’s hairline. Billy frowned, asking, “Dom? Did my spoon do that?”
“No,” Dom said, not wanting to move his head. Billy’s fingers were still in place, holding his hair out of the way, and Billy’s body was quite close. Dom was almost afraid to breathe. Billy’s palm was cool against his forehead and Dom couldn’t help thinking it felt nice.
“What happened?” Billy asked, taking another step forward.
“Well,” Dom replied, eyes caught on Billy’s lips, “It’s really your fault.”
“My fault? I thought you said my spoon didn’t—”
“It didn’t,” Dom interrupted. “I fell asleep in my car and I slid over and hit my head. So you see, it's really your fault, anyway.”
“I still don’t see,” Billy said, his eyes dancing as he arched an eyebrow, “How it’s my fault.”
“It’s your fault because I didn't want to go upstairs and find out whether or not you wanted to hit me,” Dom replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Too close, Dom thought, brain freezing as he felt Billy’s skin warming against his forehead and Billy’s breath ghosting over his neck. Not close enough, his mind replied, somewhat less foggy. He decided to stop fighting and just go with it.
“That makes all the sense in the world, Dom,” Billy laughed, hand sliding down to cup Dom’s jaw.
Dom let his eyes fall mostly shut and replied, “And your spoon-throwing was oh-so-mature?”
Billy just smiled, saying, “I am dreadfully sorry…here…let me just…kiss it. Make it better, you see?” He leaned forward, standing just a little on his tip-toes, and pressed his lips gently to Dom’s forehead.
“Dom, are you alright?” Billy’s eyes were concerned as he pulled away. His eyes narrowed when Dom swayed a bit more, lilting alarmingly toward the left.
“Light headed,” Dom replied, smiling in spite of the dizziness. Look, His mind crowed, two Billys! Double the experience, double the fun!
“You look it,” Billy said, putting a hand on Dom’s waist to steady him. “Here. Just…lean up against the counter, Dom.”
“Yeah, falling over wouldn’t be very graceful,” Dom joked, though he leaned heavily against the counter. Billy was seriously worried when he realized Dom was lilting to the side and would have fallen over if not for his hand at Dom’s waist.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Billy suggested, glancing toward the table.
“Too far away,” Dom replied, eyes closed.
“Well just…I’ll help you sit on the counter,” Billy said. Dom nodded and braced his arms. He was able to get himself up without any help. Dom sighed, closed his eyes, and settled his hands on Billy's forearms.
“Billy?” Dom’s voice was low, as though he were trying to keep the words from getting to his own ears.
“Yes?” Billy asked, his voice equally low.
“Hold me?”
A simple enough request. How many times has he asked you to hold him? You’ve never been able to say no. Why start now?
Billy nodded, despite the fact that Dom couldn’t see him, and stepped forward. He situated himself carefully between Dom’s legs and let Dom’s head rest on his shoulder. Grinning, he chuckled, saying, “You were far from being rejected, Dom. You shouldn’t abuse the system. It’s tried and true and works quite wonderfully.”
Dom’s only reply was a soft murmur against Billy’s collarbone.
Peaceful, Billy thought…
They stayed that way, Dom’s breathing slow and even against Billy’s throat, Billy simply holding him.
Content.
They were content, that is, until Orlando came bursting through the kitchen door, sending it crashing against the white-washed wall. He was shirtless and his boxers were so low-slung Billy, who’d jumped about a foot in the air at all the noise, was surprised they were staying on at all. Then again, he thought, eyeing the boxers once more, I wouldn’t put it past him to tape them on…
Orlando surveyed the kitchen before walking toward the row of cabinets, chattering the entire time. “Oh God! I’m blind! The horror! The pain! The position? Never gonna be able to eat off that counter again…” But ended up distracted, as usual, when he couldn’t immediately find what he wanted. Turning to face them, he asked, “Where’s the coffee?”
Viggo came in a moment later, decently clothed, Billy was glad to see, and hit Orlando. “Leave them alone,” he said before gesturing toward the counter nearest Orlando. “The coffee’s in the canister over there. The coffee maker’s near the sink. And before you ask, I don’t have a kettle. No, don’t glare at me like that. I haven’t had the time to buy one. I wasn’t expecting to have all you tea-drinking people about…”
“Billy?” Dom murmured against Billy’s neck.
“Yes?” Billy whispered back.
“Can we do this somewhere else? I’m far too tempted to hit Orlando at the moment…and with this hangover there’s no guarantee I’d hit who I was aiming for…”
Billy chuckled, gently helping Dom slide off the counter. “Of course, Dommeh.”
“Ich liebe dich, Billy.”
Billy smiled, waving to Viggo as they left the kitchen, and replied, “Tha gaol agam ort.”
“Bloody Gaelic,” Dom whispered, smiling as he leaned into Billy.
“Means the same thing as your bloody German, you twat.” Billy’s voice was warm, though, and as he said the words, Dom's stomach did a lovely little flip that had nothing to do with being nauseated. He hoped.
“That’s good, then,” Dom said, “Very good. Cause I wouldn’t want to try to find an online Gaelic translator.”
“You probably wouldn’t be able to find a good one. You wouldn’t get a straight answer.”
“Probably get one from a straight translator,” Dom muttered, grasping the back of a nearby chair to keep from weaving.
“Straight translator? I’d’ve thought you’d want one that’d give you a good answer, Dom,” Billy said, laughing.
“Good answer’s one thing,” Dom said, chuckling a bit as he replied, “But straight’s an entirely different matter.”
Billy snorted, pacing carefully behind Dom the entire way up the stairs. “Wanker,” he murmured when they reached the top. He led Dom to the room he’d stayed in the night before and quietly shut the door behind them.
Dom didn’t speak as Billy pulled back the covers and helped him in, but when Billy began to back away Dom took hold of his wrist and said, “Stay.”
Billy looked at Dom’s half-closed eyes and knew he was lost. He nodded, walking around to the other side of the bed, and climbed in. Dom rolled over, pressing against Billy’s side, and mumbled, “Bills?”
“Yeah, Dom?” Billy closed his eyes as he rested his cheek against Dom’s forehead.
“Don’ev’r le’ me drink straigh’ vodka ag’in, alrigh’?”
Billy chuckled softly and nodded, letting Dom’s body heat seep into his side, and said, “’Course not, Dommeh. Course not.”
~ ~End~ ~
Author:
red_moon_rising (or Cai)Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Feedback: Yes, please
Dedication: This goes out to
arabella_o and clearly_unable, just for being special.Note #1: “Death-By-Bloody-Teaspoon” has been ™-ed by me. *smiles* I <3 it madly.
Note #2: This is the end. *is sad* However. *smiles* Other fics will follow. Don’t despair. I've already got one in the works titled Love Always I hope you all enjoyed the ride. *smiles* Thanks to everyone who commented, you were all far too nice and your kindness was most unexpected. *hugs you all*
Note #3: Straight Translators would never have gotten off the ground if it weren’t for
arabella_o. I <3 her madly for her encouragement and patience, as well as her invaluable beta-skills. Yet another shout-out to mys1985 for her gracious help with the German from previous chapters. Thanks also go to blackazurite for help with German.Other Chapters can be found here.
“But you know? That’s alright…”
Dom heard the words, he really did, but try as he might, he just couldn’t understand them. So, instead of opening his mouth and saying something he’d probably regret, he just stared.
Before he could do more than open and close his mouth on half-formed questions, though, Billy continued, saying, “Cause this whole denial thing? It hasn’t been working very well.”
Dom’s mind latched onto the one thing he thought he might be able to say without fucking everything up. So he licked his lips and asked, “Denial?”
Billy looked down at his newly-made cup of tea. He fumbled with the knob on the drawer before getting it open so he could reach inside for a teaspoon. Then, still refusing to look up, he measured out two teaspoons and stirred a few times, watching as the tea swirled in a clockwise direction. When all the sugar dissolved Billy poured in a bit of cream and continued stirring. Finally he sipped, letting the spoon clink against the rim of the teacup.
When he ran out of plausible reasons to not look Dom in the eye, he glanced up at Dom and said, “I have a mantra that runs through my head whenever I'm around you. Would you like to know what it is?” At Dom’s slight nod he continued, “'Straight, straight, straight, straight...' over and over again. And you know. It doesn’t bloody work.”
Dom just stared, aware that he'd done little else all morning. That didn't stop him, though, as it was his safest option. When the meaning behind Billy's words finally sunk in he couldn’t help it. He snickered. The snort of laughter slipped out before he could stop it and, even though he clamped a hand over his mouth, he was unable to stop more from escaping.
Billy flung the teaspoon at him.
Though Dom saw it coming and tried to duck away from it, the spoon still hit him just above his left eyebrow. He grunted as pain shot through his skull. It only took a moment for the throbbing to register before he clutched his forehead and began swearing. “Fucking hell, Billy! You great, bloody pillock! Hungover here! And ow. Ow fucking ow! What the fucking hell was that for, you daft twat?”
“You laughed!” Billy’s voice was indignant, but underneath Dom could sense that he was a little bit apologetic.
Dom considered just laying his head on the table and moaning, but decided that would take far too much effort. He settled for resting his elbows on the table and propping his head in his hands, grumbling, “And since when is laughing a crime punishable by Death-By-Bloody-Teaspoon? Stupid tosser.”
“Since it was a rather serious statement you were laughing at!” Billy’s voice was quickly losing whatever apology it once held.
“Serious my arse. You just said your mantra was ‘straight, straight, straight, bloody-straight.’ That’s fucking funny!” Dom didn’t really consider his words before he said them, still concentrating on the pain throbbing through his skull and down his neck, but he did catch the sad look that passed over Billy’s face before he turned back to his cup of tea.
Dom sighed and slowly got to his feet. He tried not to think about the fact that his stomach was going to voice its discontent. A wave of nausea took hold of him and he clutched at the edge of the table in an effort to keep himself from falling over. He gritted his teeth and, once the nausea finally subsided, he walked over to Billy.
"I'm sorry, mate.”
Billy just looked at him for a moment, taking in the ever-tousled hair and the pale skin. Dom must be suffering from one hell of a hangover, Billy thought as he tilted his head to the side and said, “I know, Dom. It’s just…sometimes…I really wish that things didn’t have to be so complicated with you.”
“Complicated?” Dom’s bewilderment came through quite clearly in his voice.
“Well, you’re not complicated. But…you know. With time differences, schedules…and everything that’s been buzzing around lately…” He sighed, sipping at his tea again.
“Billy, what are you trying to tell me?” Dom moved closer to Billy and rested his hand on the tiled counter top. He prayed that if he started to keel over, he'd be able grab hold of something before he caused permanent damage to anything important.
“I don’t know, Dom. I was so…set on having a normal life, on being like everyone else…I didn’t even see it, really…” Billy trailed off again, and Dom was left desperately trying to follow his logic.
“See what?” Dom felt like an incredibly stupid parrot.
“That my relationship with you has never really been normal. Every time you get trashed at a party I end up coming home with you. But, it’s not even really that, since I’ve always slept on the couch, at least before yesterday, anyway, so it's not sexual or anything like that. It's more…the touch…"
Dom couldn't quite wrap his mind around what he was hearing, but he tried, asking, "Touch?"
"You know…holding?" Billy seemed as confused as Dom was. He was lost in thought for a moment before continuing on. “Every time someone tells you ‘no’ I end up holding you. And I never quite understood why you always came to me, but I didn’t question it, either, even when Ali brought it up. You did it once when she was there. At one of the after-parties? She just got this look on her face. She didn't talk about it much, but she called me right after I'd packed you into a cab. She told me she'd be waiting up at the hotel. I couldn't just tell her that wasn't how it worked, so I went back to her and left you to fend for yourself. That was the only time I didn't stay over. It just didn't feel right, and I couldn't figure out why…” Billy just shook his head, trying his best to make sense of the things that were running through his mind.
Dom wanted to nod encouragingly, but his head felt far too delicate. This wasn't exactly a time when he could collapse and have everything work out alright in the end. So he stayed silent, didn't move, and tried to remain perfectly still as Billy looked away and continued.
"Ali said some things that just never added up. She knew we were all close, she understood that you were all part of my life. She hoped there would be room enough for her, too, but in the end it just didn't seem like there was. Not when people like you took up so much space and time, she said. I denied it all the time. What else could I do? She was right about everything, in the end, though.”
Billy looked up again. His eyes met Dom's and he whispered, "My life is full…but Ali kept talking about you and I think she was right, Dom.”
He stopped talking and looked at Dom expectantly Dom's brain took a moment to process Billy's words. When he had wrapped his mind around them, Dom asked, his voice very quiet and almost hesitant, "Right about what, Bills?”
“Right about you. And me. And…everything…us?” Billy shook his head, sounding as confused as he looked.
“Is there an ‘us,’ Bill?” Dom couldn’t quite keep the hope from his voice, and he was quite sure it was shining from his eyes. Damn eyes, his mind piped up sluggishly.
“I…I thought that you…would. If you’d like…”
Dom’s chest seized, his lungs locking almost painfully. It took him a moment to regain control, but when he did he said softly, “My bloody note wasn’t enough?”
“Your bloody note wouldn’t have been anything if Viggo hadn’t translated your chicken scratch,” Billy said, a small smile tilting up the corners of his lips.
Dom smiled back. He wanted more than anything simply sit down and enjoy the fact that he wasn’t hallucinating. Then he blinked. “I’d better not be hallucinating, damn it.”
Billy chuckled, placing his cup of tea on the counter. “You’re not hallucinating, Dom.” He reached up, fingers brushing at the fringe of spiky blond hair. Billy’s fingers grazed his temple and Dom winced. Billy’s eyes narrowed and stepped closer, moving the hair away from Dom’s forehead. He saw a rather large bruise near Dom’s hairline. Billy frowned, asking, “Dom? Did my spoon do that?”
“No,” Dom said, not wanting to move his head. Billy’s fingers were still in place, holding his hair out of the way, and Billy’s body was quite close. Dom was almost afraid to breathe. Billy’s palm was cool against his forehead and Dom couldn’t help thinking it felt nice.
“What happened?” Billy asked, taking another step forward.
“Well,” Dom replied, eyes caught on Billy’s lips, “It’s really your fault.”
“My fault? I thought you said my spoon didn’t—”
“It didn’t,” Dom interrupted. “I fell asleep in my car and I slid over and hit my head. So you see, it's really your fault, anyway.”
“I still don’t see,” Billy said, his eyes dancing as he arched an eyebrow, “How it’s my fault.”
“It’s your fault because I didn't want to go upstairs and find out whether or not you wanted to hit me,” Dom replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Too close, Dom thought, brain freezing as he felt Billy’s skin warming against his forehead and Billy’s breath ghosting over his neck. Not close enough, his mind replied, somewhat less foggy. He decided to stop fighting and just go with it.
“That makes all the sense in the world, Dom,” Billy laughed, hand sliding down to cup Dom’s jaw.
Dom let his eyes fall mostly shut and replied, “And your spoon-throwing was oh-so-mature?”
Billy just smiled, saying, “I am dreadfully sorry…here…let me just…kiss it. Make it better, you see?” He leaned forward, standing just a little on his tip-toes, and pressed his lips gently to Dom’s forehead.
“Dom, are you alright?” Billy’s eyes were concerned as he pulled away. His eyes narrowed when Dom swayed a bit more, lilting alarmingly toward the left.
“Light headed,” Dom replied, smiling in spite of the dizziness. Look, His mind crowed, two Billys! Double the experience, double the fun!
“You look it,” Billy said, putting a hand on Dom’s waist to steady him. “Here. Just…lean up against the counter, Dom.”
“Yeah, falling over wouldn’t be very graceful,” Dom joked, though he leaned heavily against the counter. Billy was seriously worried when he realized Dom was lilting to the side and would have fallen over if not for his hand at Dom’s waist.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Billy suggested, glancing toward the table.
“Too far away,” Dom replied, eyes closed.
“Well just…I’ll help you sit on the counter,” Billy said. Dom nodded and braced his arms. He was able to get himself up without any help. Dom sighed, closed his eyes, and settled his hands on Billy's forearms.
“Billy?” Dom’s voice was low, as though he were trying to keep the words from getting to his own ears.
“Yes?” Billy asked, his voice equally low.
“Hold me?”
A simple enough request. How many times has he asked you to hold him? You’ve never been able to say no. Why start now?
Billy nodded, despite the fact that Dom couldn’t see him, and stepped forward. He situated himself carefully between Dom’s legs and let Dom’s head rest on his shoulder. Grinning, he chuckled, saying, “You were far from being rejected, Dom. You shouldn’t abuse the system. It’s tried and true and works quite wonderfully.”
Dom’s only reply was a soft murmur against Billy’s collarbone.
Peaceful, Billy thought…
They stayed that way, Dom’s breathing slow and even against Billy’s throat, Billy simply holding him.
Content.
They were content, that is, until Orlando came bursting through the kitchen door, sending it crashing against the white-washed wall. He was shirtless and his boxers were so low-slung Billy, who’d jumped about a foot in the air at all the noise, was surprised they were staying on at all. Then again, he thought, eyeing the boxers once more, I wouldn’t put it past him to tape them on…
Orlando surveyed the kitchen before walking toward the row of cabinets, chattering the entire time. “Oh God! I’m blind! The horror! The pain! The position? Never gonna be able to eat off that counter again…” But ended up distracted, as usual, when he couldn’t immediately find what he wanted. Turning to face them, he asked, “Where’s the coffee?”
Viggo came in a moment later, decently clothed, Billy was glad to see, and hit Orlando. “Leave them alone,” he said before gesturing toward the counter nearest Orlando. “The coffee’s in the canister over there. The coffee maker’s near the sink. And before you ask, I don’t have a kettle. No, don’t glare at me like that. I haven’t had the time to buy one. I wasn’t expecting to have all you tea-drinking people about…”
“Billy?” Dom murmured against Billy’s neck.
“Yes?” Billy whispered back.
“Can we do this somewhere else? I’m far too tempted to hit Orlando at the moment…and with this hangover there’s no guarantee I’d hit who I was aiming for…”
Billy chuckled, gently helping Dom slide off the counter. “Of course, Dommeh.”
“Ich liebe dich, Billy.”
Billy smiled, waving to Viggo as they left the kitchen, and replied, “Tha gaol agam ort.”
“Bloody Gaelic,” Dom whispered, smiling as he leaned into Billy.
“Means the same thing as your bloody German, you twat.” Billy’s voice was warm, though, and as he said the words, Dom's stomach did a lovely little flip that had nothing to do with being nauseated. He hoped.
“That’s good, then,” Dom said, “Very good. Cause I wouldn’t want to try to find an online Gaelic translator.”
“You probably wouldn’t be able to find a good one. You wouldn’t get a straight answer.”
“Probably get one from a straight translator,” Dom muttered, grasping the back of a nearby chair to keep from weaving.
“Straight translator? I’d’ve thought you’d want one that’d give you a good answer, Dom,” Billy said, laughing.
“Good answer’s one thing,” Dom said, chuckling a bit as he replied, “But straight’s an entirely different matter.”
Billy snorted, pacing carefully behind Dom the entire way up the stairs. “Wanker,” he murmured when they reached the top. He led Dom to the room he’d stayed in the night before and quietly shut the door behind them.
Dom didn’t speak as Billy pulled back the covers and helped him in, but when Billy began to back away Dom took hold of his wrist and said, “Stay.”
Billy looked at Dom’s half-closed eyes and knew he was lost. He nodded, walking around to the other side of the bed, and climbed in. Dom rolled over, pressing against Billy’s side, and mumbled, “Bills?”
“Yeah, Dom?” Billy closed his eyes as he rested his cheek against Dom’s forehead.
“Don’ev’r le’ me drink straigh’ vodka ag’in, alrigh’?”
Billy chuckled softly and nodded, letting Dom’s body heat seep into his side, and said, “’Course not, Dommeh. Course not.”
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Spoons in foreheads are no fun. My brother flung a spork at me once...*shakes head*
But than you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it.
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Thank you so much.
And I *adore* your icon...
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and now you need to write more. something just as good. i challenge you.
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Oh dear.
A challenge?
*laughs*
I'll try my hardest. Promise.
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