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monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2004 02:04 am)
coldplayer13.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 19th, 2004 02:04 am)hey guys! i was posting over at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fellow_shippers for a while, but all i've written so far is monaboyd, so i figured i may as well specialize :) anyhow, this is just a little ficlet, and bear in mind, i'm still getting used to this whole slash-writing thing...
Title: 8:36 pm
Author: Coldplayer
Pairing: Haha, guess i don't have to state the obvious
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I'm a liar, I own no one, etc.
Summary: Post-sex (i'll write some porn one day). Talking, smoking, Dom's moving to L.A. stuff
Feedback: Yes please! I'm painfully new to both livejournal and slashing, so human contact is greatly appreciated :)
“So you’re sure about L.A.?” Billy lit a cigarette, watching the smoke waft and curl above his head.
“Yeah, I guess.” Dom pulled the sheet higher over their tangled bodies. “Hope you weren’t putting out just to keep me here.” He grinned and ferried the dart from Billy’s hand to his mouth.
Billy smiled and stopped trailing his fingernails across Dom’s scalp to give his hair a hard tug.
“Hey!”
“I wasn’t ‘putting out’ for that.” Billy pet the sun-streaked locks tenderly as Dom burrowed deeper into his chest. “Wanker.”
“It’s just career stuff, y’know. More jobs across the pond.” He slid the cigarette back between Billy’s lips.
“Yeah.”
“And it’s really not that different. I mean, it’s not like we’re living in the same place right now.”
“No. But there’s a big difference between a train ride and an ocean.”
“We’ll still see each other.” Dom shifted to squint at him in the half-dark of 8:36 pm.
“Of course we will.” Billy pretended to look for an ashtray so Dom couldn’t see the lie on his face.
“And there’s always phone sex.” Dom grinned and nipped at his shoulder.
“Right you are.”
There was a pause. Not an awkward one, because it was hard to feel awkward when you were pressed so close together, moans and sweat and cum clouded near the ceiling with the remaining cigarette smoke. It was more of an uncertain silence, left unbroken by the fact that this conversation could quickly venture past sex jokes to something too serious, too emotional, too real.
“I know it’s not ideal, but...” He rested his lips against Billy’s pale flesh, unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“But we’ll manage.” Billy picked up where he left off.
“Yeah.”
Dom tightened his arm around Billy’s torso, sighing into his collarbone.
“Stay?” Billy asked, praying he didn’t sound serious.
“Come with me?” Dom tried to match his tone, but it came out raspy, desperate, and worst of all, hopeful.
“You know I can’t.” Billy felt like he should turn and search for the ashtray again, even though he wasn’t lying and the cigarette was long dead.
“I know. Everything’s in fucking Scotland.” Dom yawned and stroked Billy’s side, snuggling closer, acting like he didn’t care that he wasn’t part of Billy’s ‘everything’.
“Not everything.” Billy said, so softly he wasn’t sure if he’d even wanted Dom to hear it.
Dom felt like crying. This wasn’t supposed to be hard. He tried to think of something to say, something so perfect and charming that Billy would pack his bags right this second and book a seat beside him on the flight to LA. But this was not fantasy, and there were no rings to make jobs and agents and pressure disappear, no crystal vials and magic words to fight the evening’s swelling dark.
“Not everything, Dommie.” Billy repeated, even quieter than his last statement.
“Yeah,” was all he could say back.
fellow_shippers for a while, but all i've written so far is monaboyd, so i figured i may as well specialize :) anyhow, this is just a little ficlet, and bear in mind, i'm still getting used to this whole slash-writing thing...Title: 8:36 pm
Author: Coldplayer
Pairing: Haha, guess i don't have to state the obvious
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I'm a liar, I own no one, etc.
Summary: Post-sex (i'll write some porn one day). Talking, smoking, Dom's moving to L.A. stuff
Feedback: Yes please! I'm painfully new to both livejournal and slashing, so human contact is greatly appreciated :)
“So you’re sure about L.A.?” Billy lit a cigarette, watching the smoke waft and curl above his head.
“Yeah, I guess.” Dom pulled the sheet higher over their tangled bodies. “Hope you weren’t putting out just to keep me here.” He grinned and ferried the dart from Billy’s hand to his mouth.
Billy smiled and stopped trailing his fingernails across Dom’s scalp to give his hair a hard tug.
“Hey!”
“I wasn’t ‘putting out’ for that.” Billy pet the sun-streaked locks tenderly as Dom burrowed deeper into his chest. “Wanker.”
“It’s just career stuff, y’know. More jobs across the pond.” He slid the cigarette back between Billy’s lips.
“Yeah.”
“And it’s really not that different. I mean, it’s not like we’re living in the same place right now.”
“No. But there’s a big difference between a train ride and an ocean.”
“We’ll still see each other.” Dom shifted to squint at him in the half-dark of 8:36 pm.
“Of course we will.” Billy pretended to look for an ashtray so Dom couldn’t see the lie on his face.
“And there’s always phone sex.” Dom grinned and nipped at his shoulder.
“Right you are.”
There was a pause. Not an awkward one, because it was hard to feel awkward when you were pressed so close together, moans and sweat and cum clouded near the ceiling with the remaining cigarette smoke. It was more of an uncertain silence, left unbroken by the fact that this conversation could quickly venture past sex jokes to something too serious, too emotional, too real.
“I know it’s not ideal, but...” He rested his lips against Billy’s pale flesh, unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“But we’ll manage.” Billy picked up where he left off.
“Yeah.”
Dom tightened his arm around Billy’s torso, sighing into his collarbone.
“Stay?” Billy asked, praying he didn’t sound serious.
“Come with me?” Dom tried to match his tone, but it came out raspy, desperate, and worst of all, hopeful.
“You know I can’t.” Billy felt like he should turn and search for the ashtray again, even though he wasn’t lying and the cigarette was long dead.
“I know. Everything’s in fucking Scotland.” Dom yawned and stroked Billy’s side, snuggling closer, acting like he didn’t care that he wasn’t part of Billy’s ‘everything’.
“Not everything.” Billy said, so softly he wasn’t sure if he’d even wanted Dom to hear it.
Dom felt like crying. This wasn’t supposed to be hard. He tried to think of something to say, something so perfect and charming that Billy would pack his bags right this second and book a seat beside him on the flight to LA. But this was not fantasy, and there were no rings to make jobs and agents and pressure disappear, no crystal vials and magic words to fight the evening’s swelling dark.
“Not everything, Dommie.” Billy repeated, even quieter than his last statement.
“Yeah,” was all he could say back.
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