(![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
trash-puppet.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
monaboyd May. 2nd, 2004 03:32 pm)
trash-puppet.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd May. 2nd, 2004 03:32 pm)Title: Cherry Red (Part five)
Rating: R
Summary: Dom's always kept a diary, it was only a matter of time before it was read. PART FIVE: Billy makes a discovery
Disclaimer: Are you joking?
Author: Trash
Feedback: is muse food
Warning(s): Non really
A/N: Ok; theres a switch in POV here, from Dom's to Billy's half way through, it's noticable when though so dont worry. Response to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
secrett's plot bunny.
Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Dom was awoken by a road drill hammering at his skull. He opened his eyes warily; he didn’t remember where he was. He figured he was in a bed, but where he was apart from that he didn’t know.
He tried to sit up but the ache, which at first had been confined to his head, spread throughout his entire body and he groaned; lying back down.
He focussed his blurry gaze on the ceiling of the anonymous room. It was white and the sunlight that streamed in through the window reflected off of it, practically blinding him.
Dom tried to slow his breathing and calm down but it wasn’t working.
The door which was opposite the bed, opened slowly; almost cautiously. Billy moved into the room quietly. When he saw Dom lying awake his face brightened immediately. “Dom!”
Dom smiled as Billy moved around the bed and sat on the covers next to him. He turned and watched him through eyes still swollen with sleep. “Am I not dead?” he croaked, each word ripping out of his throat as if he was coughing up razor blades.
Billy smiled down at him, stroking Dom’s hair slightly. “No, you utter git. But you scared me shitless.”
“Yeah.” Dominic muttered thoughtfully. “What the fuck happened anyways?”
“Dehydration, apparently. I called the NHS hotline thing and the woman told me that you have to be kept hydrated and cool. Which is going to be hard since it’s the middle of frigging summer.” Billy sounded exhausted, exasperated, pissed off. Nothing positive, anyway.
“I’m so sorry, Bills.” Dom murmured. “I’ve been here for two hours or something and I’ve started ruining this holiday.”
Billy made a tutting noise. “It could have happened to anyone, Dommie. Were you sick on the aeroplane?” he asked, concerned.
Dom simply nodded, which disturbed his hang-over-like headache further.
“That won’t have helped. You’ve thrown up all your fluids, Sblomie.” Billy pressed the back of his hand to Dom’s forehead, checking his temperature. “The woman at the NHS said that you should be fine by tomorrow if you drink plenty water today and don’t stay in the heat too much.”
Sounded great to Dom; spend the entire day with a glass of water doing fuck all. It wouldn’t have sounded so much fun if he didn’t know he was going to be spending the entire day with a glass of water doing fuck all in Glasgow, in Billy’s house, with Billy.
“Right-oh.”
Billy pushed himself up from the bed and made towards the door. “Just get up when you’re ready, m’Dommie.” And he was gone.
Dom already felt lonely. But defiantly not on the scale of being in L.A, Billy-less.
Shit. L.A. Elijah.
Dominic tired again to sit up, this time succeeding. He glanced around the room. He recognised it now that sleep was leaving his brain and clarity had arrived. It was Billy’s guest room, the one Dom always used when he had visited in the past.
He glanced to the bed side table where the portable phone stood in its holder. Beside it was a digital clock. He extracted eight hours from the time. It was too early to call Elijah.
He swung his feet over the side of the bed slowly as to not provoke his aching muscles further, and planted them firmly on the floor. Pushing hard off the bed, Dom managed to stand and sway only very slightly. He realised he was still wearing the clothes he flew in. This only served to make him feel even more gross.
“Billy?” he called out weakly.
There was no reply.
Dominic’s eye caught the silver suitcase in the corner of the room, lying open on a chair, his back-pack tucked underneath its legs. He rummaged through it for a time before he found his diary. He plucked the pen from the centre pages, added something to his Reasons not to love Billy and then threw the book towards the bed and watched as it landed gracefully on the pillow.
The idea of a shower was amazingly comforting, so he inspected his open suitcase and pulled out some fresh clothes which he dumped on the bed, then wandered out of the bedroom.
He knew Billy’s house fairly well, having stayed with him before, just after ‘Rings. The entire place was dark, to keep out the blinding summer sun, most likely. Dom felt bad for spoiling Billy’s day – it was gorgeous outside yet Billy has to stay at home most of the time and make sure Dom stay hydrated.
The bathroom was bright from the white light spilling onto the tiles through the frosted window. Pulling the chord to switch on the shower, Dom hastily undressed and dove under the cool jets of water.
About half an hour into his shower, Dominic heard Billy call his name.
“In the shower!” He yelled over the heavy rush of the water around him. There was a loud knock at the door and, even though Dom had been half expecting it, he jumped slightly.
“Need anything?” Billy’s voice drifted through the steam filled room without the need to shout.
“Nah, I’m good.” He yelled back, ducking his head under the water again, he began to rinse Billy’s tropical smelling shampoo from his hair.
****
The house was dark when Billy returned from the shop. He’d only ended up buying a couple of bottles of mineral water, but still.
He stepped into the shadowy coolness of the living room and threw his keys on the coffee table. He called out to Dom, hoping the man was now awake. What kind of an idiot drinks no water at all in the middle of summer?
The reply Billy received, when he crept up the stairs, was from the bathroom, as he drew closer to the door he could hear the splash and rush of the shower. When Dom informed him that he didn’t need anything, Billy wandered into the guest room, for no particular reason
Dom had set out some baggy jeans and his “I poke badgers with spoons” t-shirt. Billy grinned at it, sitting there in all of its immature glory. The place was still relatively tidy and the only signs that Dom was actually staying in the room was the opened suitcase on the chair and the backpack beneath it.
Oh, and the open diary on the pillow.
Billy knew how wrong it’d be and how much he’d be invading Dominic’s privacy, but he simply couldn’t bring himself not to.
Sitting down next to the old leather book, Billy took a deep breath. He and Dom were so close, yet there were some thing Bill couldn’t help but think Dom was leaving him in the dark about.
Picking up the dark book, Billy turned to the back and leafed through to what appeared to be the latest entry.
Reasons not to love Billy glared up at him in Dom’s hastily scrawled hand. He skimmed the entry briefly, well, the entry was more of a numbered list which totally lived up to its’ title. There were twenty-eight reasons scribbled down there.
Number twenty-eight being “He’s got a girlfriend.”
Billy’s mind raced as he tried to memorise every reason jotted down on the page. His heart rate increased when he heard the shower switch off. “Feck.” He muttered under his breath. He closed Dom’s diary and placed it back on the pillow where it had rested previously.
There was the sound of the toilet flushing in the bathroom; Billy used the sudden noise to cover his footsteps out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Once he was safely in the kitchen he used the task of putting the mineral water in the fridge as a distraction.
Reasons not to love Billy
Why would he want to write that?
Billy dropped the water on his foot.
“Ow! Shit, fucking faggot piece of cunting shit!” He cursed loudly as he hobbled around on one foot.
Dom appeared in the door way, wearing only a wide grin on his face and a towel slung low on his hips. “Problem, Bills?” he asked, his grin threatening to envelope his entire face.
Billy sat down on the cool lino of the kitchen floor and clutched his aching foot. “Dropped your sodding water.” He muttered, inspecting the red mark that was steadily forming into a bruise.
“My water?”
Billy looked up and watched as Dom sunk to the floor beside him, opening the offending bottle and taking a deep drink. “Yes, you are the cause of my pain.” He stated lightly.
Dom nodded. “I’m terribly sorry.” He lifted his chin and looked down at Billy before he shuddered violently for a second.
“You okay Dommie?” Billy took the water from Dom’s hand and stood it on the floor and helped Dom to his feet.
“Yeah, m’fine. Just a shock to my system, s’pose. You know; the cold?” Dom clutched the towel around his waist slightly. “You okay?” he asked, indicating at Billy’s bright red foot.
Billy nodded. “Today’s lesson; wear shoes whilst packing away shopping.”
Dom was half way up the stairs when he replied “And what a hard learned lesson it was”
Billy picked the bottle up from the kitchen floor and put it in the fridge with the others. Dom hadn’t acted any differently from usual – he was his normal cheeky self. Maybe he didn’t mean what he had written in his diary. Maybe he had known Billy would look at it and had written it deliberately. And the first few numbers on the list had been innocent enough really, no malice in the words. They were things like, He’s straight, I am straight, He’s my best mate and He sleeps for England whenever he frigging can.
Something just didn’t sit right about the whole thing. That feeling of total un-caring had settled around Billy’s feet like a fog. It occurred to him that, as much as he was invading Dom’s privacy, Dom was writing about him in that diary of his and no matter how much he had taken the piss in the past – it seemed very important that he got a hold of that book again.
Dom had always been a very private person – he didn’t like to lumber other people with his troubles. So he had the tendency to bottle everything up inside, or write it in his diary. Even when they were on set, Dom only complained about being homesick when he was poked at and prodded by every cast and crew member there was. Even on the worst of days, when everything was going tits-up, Dominic kept it all to himself.
That meant that his diary was full of everything -every emotion, every secret, every crush, every hurt.
Which lead Billy to the conclusion that it wasn’t so much as an invasion of privacy as a helping hand, because Dom wasn’t getting any answers to any of his questions from his diary.
His train of thought was disturbed when Dom ambled back into the kitchen (when the fuck had he come down the stairs?) wearing the clothes Billy had previously seen laid out on the bed.
“You look a lot better.” Billy observed, leaning his elbows on the bench top behind him.
Dom nodded whilst moving to open the fridge “I feel it, but I have that god-awful cotton mouth bullshit going on right now.” He said, smacking his lips together noisily to emphasise his point. Billy watched as Dom reached into the depths of the fridge and pulled out a fresh bottle of mineral water.
“Why don’t you drink the one you already opened, fuckwit?” he asked, slightly amused.
“Tastes different.” Dom un-screwed the cap off the bottle and took a sip. He then wandered out over to the kitchen door, pulling it open and shielding his eyes with the back of his hand. “Why’d ya buy a house, Bills?”
“Ah…..” Billy followed him out into the small garden and flopped down onto the varnished seat just outside of the door. “To live in? Why else would I buy a house?”
Dom sat down cross-legged on the path that ran down the centre of the garden, separating it into two areas of grass which were bordered by plants Billy could remember buying with Dom and planting with Dom and tending to with Dom. If he was to really answer the question, he would tell Dominic that he had bought the house for them – both of them, because before Dom had left for L.A, he had spent more time at Billy’s house than he had in his own apartment.
“I dunno, just seems a bit big for one person.” Pause. “You gonna ask Alison to live with you?”
Way to kill the mood.
Billy stood up and trailed back in doors without another word. Dom called after him, asking him what he’d said to rattle his cage.
“Billy –”
Billy turned to face him. “Leave Ali out of this, Dominic.”
Dom stepped closer to him. “Why? Why are you so touchy about this? All I did was fucking ask. Since when was that a criminal offence?”
He watched as Dom’s eyes flickered and for some reason guilt seeped into Billy’s blood stream, chilling him slightly. He felt bad, knowing something that Dom didn’t know he knew. “M’sorry Dom.” He murmured, not just apologising for snapping at him.
“I know. S’okay.”
No, Billy wants to tell him, No, it’s not okay, it’s so very very not okay.
Rating: R
Summary: Dom's always kept a diary, it was only a matter of time before it was read. PART FIVE: Billy makes a discovery
Disclaimer: Are you joking?
Author: Trash
Feedback: is muse food
Warning(s): Non really
A/N: Ok; theres a switch in POV here, from Dom's to Billy's half way through, it's noticable when though so dont worry. Response to
secrett's plot bunny.Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Dom was awoken by a road drill hammering at his skull. He opened his eyes warily; he didn’t remember where he was. He figured he was in a bed, but where he was apart from that he didn’t know.
He tried to sit up but the ache, which at first had been confined to his head, spread throughout his entire body and he groaned; lying back down.
He focussed his blurry gaze on the ceiling of the anonymous room. It was white and the sunlight that streamed in through the window reflected off of it, practically blinding him.
Dom tried to slow his breathing and calm down but it wasn’t working.
The door which was opposite the bed, opened slowly; almost cautiously. Billy moved into the room quietly. When he saw Dom lying awake his face brightened immediately. “Dom!”
Dom smiled as Billy moved around the bed and sat on the covers next to him. He turned and watched him through eyes still swollen with sleep. “Am I not dead?” he croaked, each word ripping out of his throat as if he was coughing up razor blades.
Billy smiled down at him, stroking Dom’s hair slightly. “No, you utter git. But you scared me shitless.”
“Yeah.” Dominic muttered thoughtfully. “What the fuck happened anyways?”
“Dehydration, apparently. I called the NHS hotline thing and the woman told me that you have to be kept hydrated and cool. Which is going to be hard since it’s the middle of frigging summer.” Billy sounded exhausted, exasperated, pissed off. Nothing positive, anyway.
“I’m so sorry, Bills.” Dom murmured. “I’ve been here for two hours or something and I’ve started ruining this holiday.”
Billy made a tutting noise. “It could have happened to anyone, Dommie. Were you sick on the aeroplane?” he asked, concerned.
Dom simply nodded, which disturbed his hang-over-like headache further.
“That won’t have helped. You’ve thrown up all your fluids, Sblomie.” Billy pressed the back of his hand to Dom’s forehead, checking his temperature. “The woman at the NHS said that you should be fine by tomorrow if you drink plenty water today and don’t stay in the heat too much.”
Sounded great to Dom; spend the entire day with a glass of water doing fuck all. It wouldn’t have sounded so much fun if he didn’t know he was going to be spending the entire day with a glass of water doing fuck all in Glasgow, in Billy’s house, with Billy.
“Right-oh.”
Billy pushed himself up from the bed and made towards the door. “Just get up when you’re ready, m’Dommie.” And he was gone.
Dom already felt lonely. But defiantly not on the scale of being in L.A, Billy-less.
Shit. L.A. Elijah.
Dominic tired again to sit up, this time succeeding. He glanced around the room. He recognised it now that sleep was leaving his brain and clarity had arrived. It was Billy’s guest room, the one Dom always used when he had visited in the past.
He glanced to the bed side table where the portable phone stood in its holder. Beside it was a digital clock. He extracted eight hours from the time. It was too early to call Elijah.
He swung his feet over the side of the bed slowly as to not provoke his aching muscles further, and planted them firmly on the floor. Pushing hard off the bed, Dom managed to stand and sway only very slightly. He realised he was still wearing the clothes he flew in. This only served to make him feel even more gross.
“Billy?” he called out weakly.
There was no reply.
Dominic’s eye caught the silver suitcase in the corner of the room, lying open on a chair, his back-pack tucked underneath its legs. He rummaged through it for a time before he found his diary. He plucked the pen from the centre pages, added something to his Reasons not to love Billy and then threw the book towards the bed and watched as it landed gracefully on the pillow.
The idea of a shower was amazingly comforting, so he inspected his open suitcase and pulled out some fresh clothes which he dumped on the bed, then wandered out of the bedroom.
He knew Billy’s house fairly well, having stayed with him before, just after ‘Rings. The entire place was dark, to keep out the blinding summer sun, most likely. Dom felt bad for spoiling Billy’s day – it was gorgeous outside yet Billy has to stay at home most of the time and make sure Dom stay hydrated.
The bathroom was bright from the white light spilling onto the tiles through the frosted window. Pulling the chord to switch on the shower, Dom hastily undressed and dove under the cool jets of water.
About half an hour into his shower, Dominic heard Billy call his name.
“In the shower!” He yelled over the heavy rush of the water around him. There was a loud knock at the door and, even though Dom had been half expecting it, he jumped slightly.
“Need anything?” Billy’s voice drifted through the steam filled room without the need to shout.
“Nah, I’m good.” He yelled back, ducking his head under the water again, he began to rinse Billy’s tropical smelling shampoo from his hair.
****
The house was dark when Billy returned from the shop. He’d only ended up buying a couple of bottles of mineral water, but still.
He stepped into the shadowy coolness of the living room and threw his keys on the coffee table. He called out to Dom, hoping the man was now awake. What kind of an idiot drinks no water at all in the middle of summer?
The reply Billy received, when he crept up the stairs, was from the bathroom, as he drew closer to the door he could hear the splash and rush of the shower. When Dom informed him that he didn’t need anything, Billy wandered into the guest room, for no particular reason
Dom had set out some baggy jeans and his “I poke badgers with spoons” t-shirt. Billy grinned at it, sitting there in all of its immature glory. The place was still relatively tidy and the only signs that Dom was actually staying in the room was the opened suitcase on the chair and the backpack beneath it.
Oh, and the open diary on the pillow.
Billy knew how wrong it’d be and how much he’d be invading Dominic’s privacy, but he simply couldn’t bring himself not to.
Sitting down next to the old leather book, Billy took a deep breath. He and Dom were so close, yet there were some thing Bill couldn’t help but think Dom was leaving him in the dark about.
Picking up the dark book, Billy turned to the back and leafed through to what appeared to be the latest entry.
Reasons not to love Billy glared up at him in Dom’s hastily scrawled hand. He skimmed the entry briefly, well, the entry was more of a numbered list which totally lived up to its’ title. There were twenty-eight reasons scribbled down there.
Number twenty-eight being “He’s got a girlfriend.”
Billy’s mind raced as he tried to memorise every reason jotted down on the page. His heart rate increased when he heard the shower switch off. “Feck.” He muttered under his breath. He closed Dom’s diary and placed it back on the pillow where it had rested previously.
There was the sound of the toilet flushing in the bathroom; Billy used the sudden noise to cover his footsteps out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Once he was safely in the kitchen he used the task of putting the mineral water in the fridge as a distraction.
Reasons not to love Billy
Why would he want to write that?
Billy dropped the water on his foot.
“Ow! Shit, fucking faggot piece of cunting shit!” He cursed loudly as he hobbled around on one foot.
Dom appeared in the door way, wearing only a wide grin on his face and a towel slung low on his hips. “Problem, Bills?” he asked, his grin threatening to envelope his entire face.
Billy sat down on the cool lino of the kitchen floor and clutched his aching foot. “Dropped your sodding water.” He muttered, inspecting the red mark that was steadily forming into a bruise.
“My water?”
Billy looked up and watched as Dom sunk to the floor beside him, opening the offending bottle and taking a deep drink. “Yes, you are the cause of my pain.” He stated lightly.
Dom nodded. “I’m terribly sorry.” He lifted his chin and looked down at Billy before he shuddered violently for a second.
“You okay Dommie?” Billy took the water from Dom’s hand and stood it on the floor and helped Dom to his feet.
“Yeah, m’fine. Just a shock to my system, s’pose. You know; the cold?” Dom clutched the towel around his waist slightly. “You okay?” he asked, indicating at Billy’s bright red foot.
Billy nodded. “Today’s lesson; wear shoes whilst packing away shopping.”
Dom was half way up the stairs when he replied “And what a hard learned lesson it was”
Billy picked the bottle up from the kitchen floor and put it in the fridge with the others. Dom hadn’t acted any differently from usual – he was his normal cheeky self. Maybe he didn’t mean what he had written in his diary. Maybe he had known Billy would look at it and had written it deliberately. And the first few numbers on the list had been innocent enough really, no malice in the words. They were things like, He’s straight, I am straight, He’s my best mate and He sleeps for England whenever he frigging can.
Something just didn’t sit right about the whole thing. That feeling of total un-caring had settled around Billy’s feet like a fog. It occurred to him that, as much as he was invading Dom’s privacy, Dom was writing about him in that diary of his and no matter how much he had taken the piss in the past – it seemed very important that he got a hold of that book again.
Dom had always been a very private person – he didn’t like to lumber other people with his troubles. So he had the tendency to bottle everything up inside, or write it in his diary. Even when they were on set, Dom only complained about being homesick when he was poked at and prodded by every cast and crew member there was. Even on the worst of days, when everything was going tits-up, Dominic kept it all to himself.
That meant that his diary was full of everything -every emotion, every secret, every crush, every hurt.
Which lead Billy to the conclusion that it wasn’t so much as an invasion of privacy as a helping hand, because Dom wasn’t getting any answers to any of his questions from his diary.
His train of thought was disturbed when Dom ambled back into the kitchen (when the fuck had he come down the stairs?) wearing the clothes Billy had previously seen laid out on the bed.
“You look a lot better.” Billy observed, leaning his elbows on the bench top behind him.
Dom nodded whilst moving to open the fridge “I feel it, but I have that god-awful cotton mouth bullshit going on right now.” He said, smacking his lips together noisily to emphasise his point. Billy watched as Dom reached into the depths of the fridge and pulled out a fresh bottle of mineral water.
“Why don’t you drink the one you already opened, fuckwit?” he asked, slightly amused.
“Tastes different.” Dom un-screwed the cap off the bottle and took a sip. He then wandered out over to the kitchen door, pulling it open and shielding his eyes with the back of his hand. “Why’d ya buy a house, Bills?”
“Ah…..” Billy followed him out into the small garden and flopped down onto the varnished seat just outside of the door. “To live in? Why else would I buy a house?”
Dom sat down cross-legged on the path that ran down the centre of the garden, separating it into two areas of grass which were bordered by plants Billy could remember buying with Dom and planting with Dom and tending to with Dom. If he was to really answer the question, he would tell Dominic that he had bought the house for them – both of them, because before Dom had left for L.A, he had spent more time at Billy’s house than he had in his own apartment.
“I dunno, just seems a bit big for one person.” Pause. “You gonna ask Alison to live with you?”
Way to kill the mood.
Billy stood up and trailed back in doors without another word. Dom called after him, asking him what he’d said to rattle his cage.
“Billy –”
Billy turned to face him. “Leave Ali out of this, Dominic.”
Dom stepped closer to him. “Why? Why are you so touchy about this? All I did was fucking ask. Since when was that a criminal offence?”
He watched as Dom’s eyes flickered and for some reason guilt seeped into Billy’s blood stream, chilling him slightly. He felt bad, knowing something that Dom didn’t know he knew. “M’sorry Dom.” He murmured, not just apologising for snapping at him.
“I know. S’okay.”
No, Billy wants to tell him, No, it’s not okay, it’s so very very not okay.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From: (Anonymous)
no subject
I love this fic an' you! Keep it going. :-)
From:
no subject
Excellent.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
LMAO!
*begs for more*