Och, Aye

[nomads-land.livejournal.com]

Title: Och, aye.
Rating: PG-13/R for language
Pairing: Bily/Dom
Summary: Billy is shy. That is changed. Billy can't flirt. That is not. Slightly fluffy, rather spur of the moment.
Disclaimer:Aww, look at the cute hobbitses.. THAT AREN'T MINE.
Read and comment please...



Billy had never been much of a flirt. No, no. Billy had never been anything of a flirt. When he was interested in people, he got quiet. He got melancholy. He got depressed. Maybe because the inevitable always happened. One of his best friends always ended up sweeping away the object of his desire. This time was no exception.
He’d noticed it as soon as they’d gotten to the club. Orlando was all over Dom. He laughed at almost everything he said. He was always near him. He was constantly finding ways to touch him.... good god, was Orlando batting his eyelashes?
He was. Billy growled---and ordered yet another Guinness. “This makes...what...three?” he asked himself, and continued to watch Dom.
His eyes narrowed as he saw Orlando lightly touch one of Dom’s cheekbones. This was unacceptable. He was going to go over there right now and tell Orlando exactly what he thought of him.
Or not, Billy decided, slumping deeper into his chair.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Orlando led Dom-- “Mah Dom...” thought Billy-- onto the dance floor. Oh no. Oh nononono. They were not going to dance like that... Orlando, stop grinding up against Dom like that!
Billy had to admit. Orlie was a good, sexiful dancer. He watched them, and noticed that Orlando was looking at him. Their eyes met, and Orlando raised an eyebrow and smirked, as if to say, “Try and get him now, Boyd.”
Billy fled, winding his way through a crowd of writhing bodies to the loo. He locked himself into a stall and allowed himself to weep. This was, he realized, not just another crush, an unfulfilled, unfulfillable fantasy. He really loved Dom. He was in love with him. And in about an hour, Dom would be warming Orlando’s bed. And Billy sat there, helpless, dabbing at his eyes with toilet paper, his body refusing to do what his brain and heart screamed at it to do.
”Just walk out there. Join them, at the least. Be witty. Be charming.”
Witty and charming was not writhing and grinding.
“Billeh?”
Oh fuck.
“Billeh, I know you’re in here, I can see your shoes.”
“Christ, Dom, can’t yeh leave a chap alone when he’s on the loo?”
“Come on out, Billeh boy.” Dom started to hum the song.
Damn him.
Billy stayed where he was.
“You’re not on the loo, Bill, you’re leanin’ against the sodding wall. I’m not daft, old man.”
“Fuck yeh too, Dommie.”
“If yer not coming out, I’m comin’ in.”
Billy undid the latch.
“I knew ye were crying.”
“I wasn’t cryin’.”
“Like fuck yeh weren’t”
Damn him.
“Why were you cryin’, Billy?”
Because I hated to see yeh with Orlie. Cos I love you and there’s not a damned thing I can allow meself to do about it. Cos you’re amazin’ and beautiful and I’m just this old Scottish bloke who happens to be yer best mate.
Billy didn’t say anything.
Neither did Dom. He waited.
Billy looked into Dom’s eyes for the first time. Oh my.
Finally Billy said it.
“Because I hated to see you with Orlie. Cos I love you and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it. Cos you’re amazin’ and beautiful and I’m just this old Scottish bloke who happens to be your best mate.”
Dom’s eyes widened.
Damn him
“Sorry,” BIlly whispered. “I--I’ll be going home then.”
Dom strode forward and stopped Billy with a soft kiss.
“You’re not goin’ anywhere, mate. You’re comin’ out to dance with me, we’re going to thank nice Mr. Bloom for finally persuading you...indirectly... to do somethin’ about this, and then you--” he kissed Billy again, harder-- “are comin’ home with me.”
Billy bit his lip.
“I think...” he said slowly, “That sounds like a fine idea.”