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monaboyd Nov. 23rd, 2003 04:32 pm)
chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Nov. 23rd, 2003 04:32 pm)Title: Two Days in February
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chucks_arecomfy
Pairing: Dom/Billy
Rating: PG13
Description: I dunno...read it. The title is a good summary.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Not real.
Author's Note: Title taken from the Goo-Goo Dolls song of the same name. Lyrics in the cut from that as well.
::Billy’s pov
It’s hard to walk along the cobblestone streets of Desid. Your shoes slip between the cracks every other step, and it doesn’t matter what kind you’re wearing, they always do. When the sun’s out it isn’t so bad. Though, when it rains, it’s the worst. The stones darken a few shades and the unavoidable slickness of them can send a steady man to the ground.
Which is where I find myself one rainy evening in late February: on my hands and knees against the slippery dimming rocks. Hands grasp for something to hold onto, anything. My fingernails finally catch on the dull green moss growing between a pair of stones in front of me, and I manage to hoist myself up slightly. That is, until a car skids by and a huge puddle of water is showered over my already soaking form. I fall back onto my stomach with a dull ‘splat’ and an aching need for revenge.
This is my life.
>>>
::Dom’s pov
New York traffic is possibly the worst thing I’ve ever had to experience. The cars move at a rate of about one inch every half hour, and if that doesn’t kill you or drive you insane, the smell will. Suffocating rank mixtures of exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke swirl threateningly in the air. And it doesn’t make anything better that people insist on honking their horns every chance they get…I mean, what do they think is going to happen? That the drivers in front of them will automatically move out of the way so that they can get by? Fat chance.
My head is pounding. I’ll kill the stupid fuck that decided to put an air freshener in this rent-a-car. You know, the kind that smell like coconut and pineapple, thence inducing mass headaches and lack of actual fresh air. Let’s just defeat the purpose than.
God I wish I was home.
>>>
::Billy’s pov
Darkness fills the house when I at last arrive. The hope that maybe he would be waiting there for me disintegrates. Thinking that nothing’s new, nothing’s ever going to change, I throw my black trench coat on the rack and stalk into the kitchen. Black trench coat. Since when did I start wearing that?
Since he left.
>>>
::Dom’s pov
I can practically feel the bags under my eyes forming as I flip through the channels on the tv. Commercial, commercial, “but Brad I LOVE you,” commercial… Soap operas and commercials. Splendid. Looking down at my cuffed watch, I merely sigh at the time. 1:23 a.m. Better get something to keep myself awake. Wouldn’t want to fall asleep just yet. No…not yet. I make my way over to the storage cabinets, pulling out a bag of ground coffee.
Coffee is a very, very good thing. Screw tea. I left that behind with everything else back in…
Desid.
>>>
::Billy’s pov
Tossing manically around in bed, my thoughts stray to the rain still pouring down outside. Or rather, my attention turns to the world outside in general. People, animals, everything…asleep or awake. And I wonder who else is awake right now besides me.
A ring emits from the bedside table. One ring. Two.
My hand falls onto the phone and lifts it hesitantly up.
“’ello?”
There’s a drawn out pause in which I consider hanging up, but the silence on the other end breaks as soon as the thought crosses my mind.
“Hey Billy.”
The phone slips from my hand.
>>>
TBC...maybe.
Author:
chucks_arecomfy Pairing: Dom/Billy
Rating: PG13
Description: I dunno...read it. The title is a good summary.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Not real.
Author's Note: Title taken from the Goo-Goo Dolls song of the same name. Lyrics in the cut from that as well.
::Billy’s pov
It’s hard to walk along the cobblestone streets of Desid. Your shoes slip between the cracks every other step, and it doesn’t matter what kind you’re wearing, they always do. When the sun’s out it isn’t so bad. Though, when it rains, it’s the worst. The stones darken a few shades and the unavoidable slickness of them can send a steady man to the ground.
Which is where I find myself one rainy evening in late February: on my hands and knees against the slippery dimming rocks. Hands grasp for something to hold onto, anything. My fingernails finally catch on the dull green moss growing between a pair of stones in front of me, and I manage to hoist myself up slightly. That is, until a car skids by and a huge puddle of water is showered over my already soaking form. I fall back onto my stomach with a dull ‘splat’ and an aching need for revenge.
This is my life.
>>>
::Dom’s pov
New York traffic is possibly the worst thing I’ve ever had to experience. The cars move at a rate of about one inch every half hour, and if that doesn’t kill you or drive you insane, the smell will. Suffocating rank mixtures of exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke swirl threateningly in the air. And it doesn’t make anything better that people insist on honking their horns every chance they get…I mean, what do they think is going to happen? That the drivers in front of them will automatically move out of the way so that they can get by? Fat chance.
My head is pounding. I’ll kill the stupid fuck that decided to put an air freshener in this rent-a-car. You know, the kind that smell like coconut and pineapple, thence inducing mass headaches and lack of actual fresh air. Let’s just defeat the purpose than.
God I wish I was home.
>>>
::Billy’s pov
Darkness fills the house when I at last arrive. The hope that maybe he would be waiting there for me disintegrates. Thinking that nothing’s new, nothing’s ever going to change, I throw my black trench coat on the rack and stalk into the kitchen. Black trench coat. Since when did I start wearing that?
Since he left.
>>>
::Dom’s pov
I can practically feel the bags under my eyes forming as I flip through the channels on the tv. Commercial, commercial, “but Brad I LOVE you,” commercial… Soap operas and commercials. Splendid. Looking down at my cuffed watch, I merely sigh at the time. 1:23 a.m. Better get something to keep myself awake. Wouldn’t want to fall asleep just yet. No…not yet. I make my way over to the storage cabinets, pulling out a bag of ground coffee.
Coffee is a very, very good thing. Screw tea. I left that behind with everything else back in…
Desid.
>>>
::Billy’s pov
Tossing manically around in bed, my thoughts stray to the rain still pouring down outside. Or rather, my attention turns to the world outside in general. People, animals, everything…asleep or awake. And I wonder who else is awake right now besides me.
A ring emits from the bedside table. One ring. Two.
My hand falls onto the phone and lifts it hesitantly up.
“’ello?”
There’s a drawn out pause in which I consider hanging up, but the silence on the other end breaks as soon as the thought crosses my mind.
“Hey Billy.”
The phone slips from my hand.
>>>
TBC...maybe.
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From:
Re: The Anonymous LJ Stalker says good job
Well...you do have a point with the lyrics.
But I only meant those two lines to be part of the story. (Hence the reason I didn't use the rest of the song in it.)
I do like your suggestion about color though. It would probably bring out even more of a visual for people to grab hold of.