After Falling - 9

[sparklytiara.livejournal.com]

Title: After Falling 9/9
Author: Ami
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: R
Summary: They've already fallen. It's getting back up that's the problem.
Disclaimer: This hasn't happened yet.
Author's Notes: Yes, the conclusion is finally here. Big hugs and kisses to those who have patiently waited each installment and have been wholly encouraging. *heaps love on you all*

Previous chapters can be found here in my memories, but as I'm f'only, you need to be friended to see. Drop a comment if you'd like to be friended or, you know, dig through the community for the other chapters. Feedback is loved. A lot. :D


After Falling - 9

It took Billy several hours of driving around town, windows rolled down so that that cool evening air would dry the tears that insisted on rolling cheeks and the radio turned on as loudly as it would go before he felt composed enough to return home.

Only home was different with Dom gone. It was quiet and dark when Billy entered. There weren’t lights on in every room, the radio going in the kitchen, the television blaring in the living room, and Dom crashing down the stairs, ready to greet Billy with smiles and laughter and kisses that made Billy forget that Dom was running up a small fortune in electricity bills. There wasn’t the smell and warmth of dinner cooking floating down the hall from the kitchen to meet Billy.

It felt quite lonely, actually, Billy thought in a detached sort of way as he slowly laid his keys down on a table and hung his coat up in the closet. It was exactly the same as it had been a month ago. It was as though Dom had never been there.

But Dom *had* been there. There wasn’t tangible evidence, but Billy could feel it in his bones as he padded softly through the quiet house, turning lights on as he went. He could almost see Dom’s leg hanging over the arm of a chair (he never sat right, he always sat sideways and flung his legs over the chair’s arm), he could almost hear the horrible music that Elijah had gotten Dom hooked on pouring out of his stereo. He could nearly *feel* Dom’s presence as he entered the kitchen.

There was a jar of peanut butter sitting on the counter and Billy nearly vomited as he swiftly reached for it and tossed into the rubbish bin. Further back on the counter stood a small squat bowl that held the tiny black fish Dom brought back for Billy. The only thing Dom had left behind. Slowly, Billy reached out, his fingers grazing the cool glass gently. “Hey,” he whispered as a curious fish swam close to his fingers. The fish was joined by several others and Billy watched as they circled each other, bumped themselves on the glass, and swam back. They looked confused and Billy smiled half-heartedly. “Yeah. I don’t know what to do without him either.”

Sighing, Billy turned away from the fish. He couldn’t stay in this kitchen any longer.

Slowly, Billy made his way upstairs, his hand ghosting over the staircase rail uncertainly. Everywhere he turned he was greeted by a memory of Dom.

It would be even harder, this time, learning to live in spite of Dom’s memory. Billy could tell already as he forced himself to step past the room that had been Dom’s and to continue into his own. But his own bedroom spoke of Dom just as heavily. Billy evaded the bed that was still unmade, sheets still rumpled from that morning’s activities. If Billy lay down, he’d be able to catch the last traces of Dom’s scent…with a great sense of determination, Billy forced himself away from the bed and over to the bathroom. There weren’t any memories of Dom here. This was a good, neutral place.

And then Billy caught sight of Dom’s toothpaste perched next to the sink and nearly burst into tears. If memories of brushing his teeth next to Dom moved him this deeply, what would memories of holding Dom do to him? Forcing the thought to the back of his mind, Billy stumbled backwards, out of the bathroom, and back into the bedroom. He couldn’t *move* just because he could smell Dom on his bed linen, just because Dom’s toothpaste was in his bathroom, just because Dom’s ghost wandered his life. He’d just have to wait out this pain, it would fade, the memories would fade, just as the scent would vanish and the toothpaste would dry and crumble.

He just had to wait, that was all. Billy was patient. He could wait this out.

Nodding his head in self-agreement, Billy turned back toward the bed. He could see a red number two glowing on the answering machine…new messages. And just as he’d managed to calm himself, Billy’s heart gave an alarming thud in his chest and his hopes went spiraling. Maybe Dom had called. Maybe Dom had changed his mind, was going to turn around and come back to Scotland, to Billy, instead of boarding the next connection.

Billy nearly pounced on the machine.

A low gravelly voice was heard, one that definitely was not Dom’s. “…I had really thought…well. Never mind what I thought.” A sigh. “It’s just that this is such a disappointment…I had hoped...but never mind that either. I’m sure you acted for the best.” Another lengthy sigh followed by the solid click of a phone being hung up.

Ian.

Billy’s throat constricted painfully and he quickly deleted the message. Maybe the next message was Dom’s, his hopes whispered to him. Maybe. You never know.

But as soon as the first shrill note of the message was heard, Billy knew it wasn’t Dom. It was Elijah. “Fucking stupid fucking *fucker*! How could you let him go? HOW COULD YOU LET HIM *GO*? Does nothing I say penetrate your stupid fat fucking skull into your stupid *brain*?! Why Billy, WHY? God damn it, just tell me *why* and I’ll shut up forever. Just…oh for Christ’s sake, Billy you moron-,”

Billy had heard enough. He deleted the message without ever hearing the rest of Elijah’s sentence and picked up the phone, his finger beating the number into it. “Don’t you *ever* call my house and fucking preach your bloody gospel into it again,” Billy snapped into the phone as soon as Elijah answered with a cheery, hello! “You haven’t got the faintest bloody clue what’s going on so don’t you *dare* pull the fucking saint and martyr act with *me*.”

“Billy? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? It’s certainly not Prince bloody Charming!” Billy was screaming by now and although a small voice whispered, stop, Elijah loves you, he’s only trying to help, he couldn’t stop now that he’d begun. And if it was wrong to vent on Elijah, Billy didn’t care because it felt *good* to scream and to cry and blame Elijah for everything. “Who the *fuck* do you think you are, leaving messages like that? My mother? The queen? *God*?”

Elijah’s voice was frightened. “Billy, calm down-,”

“I WON’T calm down. Who are *you* to tell me how I should and shouldn’t act? Who are *you* to tell me who I should have in my life and who I shouldn’t, I should I love and who I shouldn’t. Why do I owe *you* of all people a goddamn explanation.”

“I’m not telling you any of that! You don’t owe me a thing!”

“Fuck off Elijah! Just fuck the bloody fuck *off*. You don’t know anything, not about me, not about Dom, and you *certainly* don’t know anything about our relationship. You have absolutely no right at all to call and leave messages about how I shouldn’t let him go and how I’m a moron and how I should tell *you* why…”

“Fuck YOU Billy.” Elijah was pissed now, had forgotten that he was supposed to soothe Billy, to lie back and let Billy scream. “You’re screaming and cussing at *me* when it’s *Dom* you’re angry with. You’re only calling me because it’s easy to be mad at me, it’s easy to say that *I’m* the one that’s done something wrong when *you’re* the one who let Dom go, when it’s *Dom* who left you.”

“You don’t GET it. I couldn’t say anything to Dom, I couldn’t tell him. I *had* to let him leave.”

“Because your mouth was wired shut, I suppose, and you were incapable of opening it. Grow the fuck up, Billy."

“He doesn’t love me Elijah. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Billy was on the verge of tears again and his words were coming out in thick, sob-choked clusters. “He doesn’t love me.”

“How do you know? Did you ever *ask*?”

Billy closed his eyes and wiped a hand over his cheek at the fresh trails of tears. “He told me that he never would.”

---

“Billy.” Dom’s voice is low and husky against Billy’s ear. Billy groans and shifts his weight beneath Dom, his fingers scrambling their way down Dom’s bare chest to tug anxiously at his belt. “Billy!” Dom brushes Billy’s hand away, grasps it and brings it to his lips.

The sudden, surprisingly romantic gesture startles Billy and he stares up at Dom, wide-eyed and bewildered. “Yeah?”

“What is this?” Dom asks and his breath whispers across Billy’s fingers.

“This?”

“What we’re doing. Right now. Are you going to pretend it didn’t happen in the morning?”

Billy frowns at him. “If you’re asking if I’m ashamed or embarrassed…” his voice trails off and he shakes his head, pulling his hand from Dom’s lips and bringing his own to them. “I’m not.”

“No, no. What I mean is…does this change things? Do we go back to being friends? Or are we in love?” Dom’s voice is small and he seems to shrink with it as he bows his head against Billy’s.

Billy thinks for a long moment, his fingers walking the length of Dom’s arm as he does so. “I don’t want to go back to being just friends…” he whispers, finally. “This…with you…it feels good. It feels *right*.”

“But?” Dom lifts his head to meet Billy’s eyes.

“”I don’t think I’m in love, right now, Dom.” Billy’s voice is quiet as he watches his fingers trace themselves over Dom’s skin. “I mean...I care about you. I care a *lot*. But…” Billy trails off uncertainly, unable to meet Dom’s eyes, afraid he’s said too much of the wrong thing.

Dom smiles as he reaches up and touches Billy’s cheek, gently turning Billy’s head, forcing their eyes to meet. “I understand.” Immediately, Billy’s face breaks into a relieved smile and impulsively, he leans forward and presses an excited, cheerful kiss to Dom’s lips. Dom breaks off the kiss to say, his eyes serious as they train themselves on Billy’s, “I’m not in love with you either Billy. And I don’t think I will *ever* fall in love with you.”

But either Billy’s not listening or Billy just doesn’t care because he doesn’t respond, but instead says, “Shh,” and slowly, lowers the zipper on Dom’s trousers.

---

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Billy’s voice was racked with tears as he repeated, “He told me, I will *never* love you. He doesn’t love me Elijah, he told me, he doesn’t, he doesn’t!” On the other end of the line, he heard the soft whoosh of Elijah’s breath, the hesitancy that preceded his speech. Miserably, Billy clenched the phone to his ear with one hand, the other wiping at his eyes.

“Oh, Billy…”

“Don’t ‘oh Billy’ me, Elijah, like you know all the answers. Because you *don’t*. You know fuck all and I know even less than that so *don’t* ‘oh Billy’ me.”

“BILLY! Shut up! You’re not making any sense!” Billy opened his mouth to retaliate – “YOU shut up” – but thought better of it, settling instead for grinding his teeth and emitting what he hoped was an extremely pissed off air toward Elijah. Elijah sighed into the phone, and Billy heard the distinct sound of the phone being shifted to his shoulder and a cigarette being lit.

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound between them the steady puff of Elijah’s cigarette and the grinding of Billy’s teeth.

“Elijah-,”

“Billy-,”

They spoke simultaneously and froze at the other’s intrusion, lapsing back in an awkward silence, again listening to grinding teeth and the puffing of a cigarette. After a minute or two, Billy gave in, and said grudgingly, “You were saying?”

“I was saying that maybe you never asked Dom because deep down, you didn’t want him to stay. You *wanted* him to go.”

“That’s crap and you know it, Wood.”

“If you say so.” But Elijah’s tone was the condescending one of ‘say what you will but I’ll still see right through you’ and Billy scowled into the receiver at it, hoping that Elijah would catch his pissed off vibes. “What were *you* gonna say?” Elijah changed the subject.

“Are you smoking?”

“Billy.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. What were you going to say before the smoking?” He was rolling his eyes, Billy knew he was rolling his eyes just as he knew that he was leaning back in a chair, his feet propped up on the kitchen table, while the chair teetered precariously on his back legs.

Incredible, Billy thought, how well they still knew each other after all this time apart.

“Billy.” Elijah’s voice was getting irritated again, he’d be yelling in a minute.

“I can live without Dom,” Billy said abruptly.

“Oh?”

Billy wasn’t stopped by the interjection though, and he hurried on, his eyes shut fast and his words running together and tumbling over one another as he said, “I can live without Dom, I *have* lived without Dom. I can manage. I *can*.”

“But you will you be happy?” Elijah’s voice was a soft whisper that grated itself across Billy’s ear and he froze for a moment before answering.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Dom’s not the only one in the world,” Elijah whispered.

“I love him.”

“You can love more than one person. You could fall in love again, Billy. You could get a second chance.”

Billy heard this, hear Elijah saying the exact same things he had told himself before. They still made sense to him, he still believe them, but…

“Elijah, I don’t want to live forever wondering what if. What if Dom had stayed, what if I’d told him that I loved him, what if this and that and…” He wasn’t crying anymore, his voice was steady, low, strong as he spoke. “What if Dom *was* my second chance?”

Elijah replied matter-of-factly. “And maybe he was. Maybe this it for you.” Billy was deflated for a moment but then – then Elijah continued speaking, “And maybe you’re Dom’s second chance.”

Billy didn’t want to hope to understand what Elijah was saying, but he could feel his heart, his hopes rising already. “Wh-what does that mean?” Stupid hopes. Go the fuck away, you’ve let him down too many times before.

“It means maybe you ought to see what Dom does with *his* chance. Not everyone fucks things up.” Elijah’s smile reached into his voice as he said gently, “Good night Billy. I love you,” and hung up.

And Billy sat there, amazed, confused, his hopes already sky-rocketing and the whisper of doubt almost completely extinguished.

He didn’t want to believe what Elijah was saying, hinting.

But he did.

Billy slowly hung up the phone and stretched out on his bed and stared up into the darkness.

And waited for Dom’s part in this to begin.

---

“Pick up the phone. Pick up the goddamn *phone*.” Billy gnashed his teeth together desperately at the ringing on the other end of the line. “Pick *up* the goddamn *telephone*.”

They say that third time’s the charm and maybe it is because Dom picked up after this third plea (or maybe it was a prayer. Or maybe a threat. It’s hard to draw a distinguishing line sometimes). “Hello?” his voice was low, rough, scratchy as though he’d been at a football match, shouting like mad.

Or, Billy thought, not without a stirring of hope, crying his eyes out.

“You lied to me,” Billy said bluntly into the phone.

There was a long pause and then finally a sigh as Dom said exasperatedly, wearily, “How’d I lie, Bill? What’d I say?”

“You told me you had your toothbrush. You don’t. I’ve got it right here with me.” Billy’s fingers tightened around the slick plastic of its neck, his thumb teased the soft fray of the bristles as he cradled his phone against his shoulder.

Dom made a disgusted noise deep in his throat. “You called me to tell me I lied to you about my *toothbrush*? God *damn* it Billy, I have no idea what time it is in Glasgow but in L.A. it is three-twelve in the morning and normal people are tying to get some sleep. So if you’ll be so kind-,”

“I don’t have your new address. Otherwise I could’ve sent it to you as soon as I found it.”

“Are you listening to me, Billy? It’s three-twelve. In the morning. I want to sleep, I don’t want to give you my address, so do us both a favor and-,”

“Well, I remember the street and the city, no shit, but I can’t remember which apartment or the house number. So if you could just give it to me, I’d-,”

“William Boyd! Please kindly shut up and let me sleep!”

Billy was hurt. “Well, FINE then. I’ll just knock on every door of every flat on this whole stupid street until I find you.”

Dom was still for a moment. When he spoke again, it was in an odd voice, one that wasn’t quite his, as though it had detached itself from Dom’s body. “Billy. What do you mean by, knock on every door?”

“Just like I said. I’m gonna knock on every bloody door until I find you, Dommie, and I’m when I do, I’m gonna-,”

“Hold on a sec.” Billy smiled to himself as he heard the scuffling sound of sheets being thrown back, trousers being tugged on and the muffled sound of curses as a drawer was slammed, presumably on one or two tender fingers. And then suddenly, Billy heard his name being shouted.

Slowly, Billy turned, one hand gripping a suitcase and the other with a toothbrush perched between the tip of his index- and middle-finger, a cell phone cupped in the palm of his hand. He smiled into the phone as he saw a man hanging out of a window, shouting Billy’s name and churning his arms wildly in the air, gesturing Billy to come to him. “I see you, Dom,” Billy whispered into the phone and bringing it away from his face, hung up and slipped it into his pocket along with the toothbrush.

Dom’s head disappeared from the window as Billy took the first few confident steps toward the building and confused, Billy stepped slower, more cautiously.

Maybe he should’ve called first.

A sick feeling grew in Billy’s stomach as he continued walking forward. He *should* have called first. Dom probably had to be up at five for an audition in the morning. Dom probably had someone in the flat with him. Dom probably didn’t even want to *speak* to him –

- and then, somehow, Billy found himself in front of the building, watching as the doors flung open and Dom shot out of them, stopping a few feet short of Billy, staring, wide-eyed, incredulous, disbelieving.

“You’re really here,” Dom said flatly. Billy nodded, his throat constricting, unable to speak or to think of what to say. Dom. Here.

Oh God, please let Lij have been right, if you ever gave me one thing, let it be this thing, let Elijah be right, let Dom take this chance and do what I couldn’t do. Please.

Dom shook his head and his voice was petulant, that of a small child who doesn’t want to admit that he’s tired and that he wants nothing more than to be tucked into bed. “You can’t be here. You can’t, you’re in Scotland because I left and you stayed. You *stayed*. You can’t *be* here.”

“I’m here, Dom.” Billy spoke softly, wearily and the words lay heavy between them for a long, long moment.

Dom was barefoot, wearing rumpled jeans that would have fallen low on his hips if he hadn’t been bunching the loose fabric up around his waist with one hand while the other pulled uncomfortably at his hair. The t-shirt he was wearing was paint-smeared with several holes scattered throughout the white fabric, and tugging awkwardly across his chest, as though it had been shrunk in the wash. He looked…

He looked *broken*.

Billy took a step towards him at the same moment Dom broke the silence – “Why are you here?”

“I…I had to ask you something.” Billy took another brave step forward, and then another, until he was standing only a few short inches away from Dom. He was close enough to breathe in Dom’s scent and to hear his shallow breathing. “I’ve never asked you anything, Dom. I never once...asked…anything.”

“What are you asking me now?” Dom’s voice was a whisper and he watched, as the suitcase fell from Billy’s hand and landed with a solid thump on the ground, Billy’s hands, empty now, coming up to reach for his and then falling short.

“I’m asking you what you would’ve done if I had asked you to *stay*. If I’d asked you not to board that stupid plane, if I’d said, please Dom, stay here, stay here with *me*, if I’d asked you to just *wait* one more minute, just long enough for me to gather up some courage, if I’d…” Billy broke off abruptly and glanced away from Dom. He returned his gaze slowly, focusing first on Dom’s bare feet, broken blades of grass and drops of dew clinging to them. Then his legs, clad in denim jeans (there was a rip across one knee, white strands of thread slipping from it and revealing a patch of flesh, looked so damn *vulnerable*) and then his hands, one knotted up in the loose fabric of his jeans (they were nearly two sizes too big on him, was Dom losing weight? Had he just not noticed he’d picked up the wrong size? Or were they somebody else’s jeans? Billy wanted to *know*, he wanted to know *everything*) and the other was dangling helplessly at his side. The shirt was next, and Billy ached to tug it down over his flesh, to smooth its wrinkled fabric over Dom’s chest. And then his lips, parted and trembling, and then his eyes, lost, desperate.

“I don’t know what to say,” Dom whispered.

Billy broke, closed the distance between them, reached out for Dom. “Say that you’ll *stay*,” he whispered, begged, pleaded, and finally, finally, his arms were around Dom and Dom’s face was buried in his neck and Dom was trembling and shaking his head and lifting it to whisper, “I don’t see how it’ll *ever* work,” and then resting it on Billy’s shoulder again, tears melting through the fabric of Billy’s shirt to sear his flesh and there’s Billy, holding Dom, tight, never wanting to let go, and there’s Dom, broken and crying, it’ll never work, it’ll never work, never work.

“Shh, shh,” Billy said helplessly. It had to work because Dom was here and he was here and they were together and it just *had* to fucking work because if this can’t work than nothing ever will again.

“It can’t work, Bills.” Dom’s voice was a muted whisper against Billy’s shoulder and slowly, he disentangled himself from Billy, stumbling back a few feet and wiping his hands across his face.

The jeans fell low on Dom’s hips, just like Billy had expected.

“Don’t *you* tell me what can’t and what can fucking work. I’ve been waiting and working too damn *long* for it not to work and it has to, it absolutely fucking *has* to-.” Billy was exhausted, he wanted to scream and shout till he was hoarse, until Dom was shut up, until there wasn’t anything but quiet and Dom in his arms because damn it, Billy had *not* flown halfway across the fucking *world* to be met with it can’t work.

“You’re never going to leave Scotland, and I *can’t* leave L.A., you can’t be with someone who’s not *there*, and-.,”

Billy shook his head. “We’ll find some middle ground, Dom, *please*-,”

“Please *what*? Please *what*, exactly, because I’d really like to know.” Dom was angry, his mouth set in a determined line, his eyes dark.

What’s he angry at? Is it me or is it himself or is it something else?

“Please…I don’t know, Dom.” Billy was defeated, his hands empty as they reached for Dom again and then drew back, unsure if he should or he shouldn’t.

“Why are you here, Billy?” Dom asked again, quietly.

Billy closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear away the tears, the anger, the emotion. When he opened them again, his voice was quiet, strong, matter-of-fact. “I have spent too long trying *not* to be in love with you, Dominic. I have spent too long telling myself that I am *not* in love with you. I have spent far too long being *terrified* of falling in love with you, that I haven’t allowed myself to notice that I’ve been falling for you for a long, long time…

“Dom. I am in love with you. I have been falling in love with you for quite some time and I’ve only just realized it myself so I’m *sorry* if I’m not being very…articulate about it.” Billy’s voice broke for a moment but he managed to keep speaking for few more seconds. “I fall in love with you more every day and I don’t think I will *ever* stop but…I want to know what happens after falling.

“What happens when after I stop falling, Dom?”

Dom was covering his face with hands again and Billy wasn’t sure if he was laughing or crying. “Dom?” he asked and reached a hand tentative hand to touch Dom’s shoulder. “Are you…why are you crying?”

“Because you make me go all wobbly like a fucking twelve year old *girl*,” Dom wailed and fell to the ground in such an ungainly fashion, Billy wasn’t sure if he’d slipped on the wet grass or if he’d fallen on purpose. “*Christ* Billy!”

Billy kneeled next to him, wincing as the cold damp from the ground seeped through his jeans to soak his knees. “Dom?” he began slowly, reaching out and prying Dom’s hand from his face and clinging to them. “Dom,” he said again gently, “I…I’ll go home if you tell me to. I’ll leave and I’ll never speak to you again if you want me to. I wanted – you *had* to know.”

“Billy, you can’t make me-,”

“Dominic,” Billy interrupted, “I’ve *had* my chance. I’ve had more than enough and I’ve fucked up every last one of them. I…this is yours.” Billy curled Dom’s fingers toward his palm as though this chance were a tangible object that he could wrap his hand around and smiled softly. “What do you want, Dom?”

“I want…” but Dom never finished what he wanted because his eyes lit up and his arms flung themselves around Billy’s neck, pulling the other man down toward him. Billy was knocked off balance, and he fell on Dom, flattening him into the cold wet ground. Billy was mumbling an apology, trying his best to extract himself and pull Dom up to a sitting position again but Dom only laughed and clung to him, and then, he kissed Billy, his lips chilled and damp with the early morning air.

“Why’d you wait so long, eh Billy?” Dom asked after Billy had drawn away from him (after, of course, reassuring himself several times that Dom wouldn’t disappear if he stopped kissing him).

Billy was quiet for a long moment and Dom frowned, opening his mouth to ask again before Billy replied, “You said…that first night, you told me you’d never fall in love.”

And Billy was shocked to see Dom’s face crumple and fall, to see tears spring angrily to his eyes almost simultaneously with Billy’s words. “Stupid. Stupid bloody *fuck*,” Dom said and Billy wasn’t sure who he was addressing.

“Dom?”

“I’ve *always* been in fucking love with you Billy. Always, always, since the day I first bloody *saw* you.”

Well.

*That* was a surprise.

“Then WHY did you lie to me?” Billy said (later he’d wonder why he didn’t scream or shout at Dom, but at that very moment, he was quiet, subdued, completely and utterly *shocked*).

Dom’s face was a perfect mix between heartbreak and fear – did he really think Billy would leave, Billy wondered and felt his heart go out to Dom even as he glared at the other man. “I…I wanted you that night Billy and…you weren’t in love with me. Not yet. If I’d told you I loved you, you might not’ve stayed and I thought, at first, that maybe I could make you fall in love with me. And then…you never seemed to change any and I thought that…that I would be all right with casual sex. I thought I’d be all right with that for forever but when I visited you last year…I didn’t *want* to be all right with that anymore. There are so many other people in the world, I thought that there *had* to be someone who would love me back and I left and then Elijah’s telling me, he loves you, go see him, go on, and so I went but you didn’t *say* anything, you just fucked me like always and then you let me leave and…” Dom shook his head, turned it away from Billy. “Billy, I *wanted* to tell you, but how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with him? How do you tell somebody you’re in love when you’re not sure that they’d even listen to a word you have to say?”

“Like this,” Billy said firmly and reached out to cup Dom’s face in hands, turning it to face him. “Dom,” he said, a moment before he kissed him, “I love you.”

---

One day, maybe ten years, maybe six months, or maybe only a day from now, Dom will find an excuse to crawl up into Billy’s lap, his legs tangled up with Billy’s and his arms flung messily around Billy.

Billy will want to know what he thinks he is doing. And Dom will smile lazily at him and ask quietly, “Still falling?”

“Every day,” Billy will answer, and will take the moment to fall a little bit more in love with Dom, to fall in love with his smile, his eyes, his laughter, all over again. “What about you?” Billy will want to know next.

And Dom will grin and will say, “I fall harder and faster every time I look at you, babe,” and Billy will laugh quietly as Dom hums happily before reaching up to kiss Billy, and Billy will find himself realizing that there is no after falling, that there’s only before falling and falling because with Dom, there is no ending.

::END::