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Title Believe This
Author![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pippinmctaggart
Pairing Billy Boyd/Dominic Monaghan
Rating PG-13
Summary Dom has a difficult time getting Billy to pay attention.
Disclaimer The following conversation is a work of fiction.
Notes Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lotrpschallenge Challenge # 8
EDIT: Thanks as always to my lovely beta1420 for the beta, for the support, and for posting while my 'puter's AWOL.
“Your eyes give you away.”
“Mmm hmm. That’s nice, Dom.”
“Billy!”
“Hmm? What? Sorry, Dom, I was reading. What did ye say?”
“You know, for such a good actor, you’re really bollocks at lying.”
“Lying? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come off it. You heard every word I said.”
“I didn’t. See this thing in my hands, Dominic? My people call it a book. And we do something with it called ‘reading’.”
“You can be such a fucking prat sometimes, Billy.”
“Ah, come on, Dom, don’t leave—Dom? …Fuck.”
“Your eyes give you away, you know.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, put the eyebrow away. It doesn’t work on me.”
“Work? Really, Dom, ye’re not making much sense today.”
“Sense my arse.”
“That was rather my point.”
“Shut up.”
“All right, Dom, what exactly are my eyes giving away? That if ye don’t eat that éclair on your tray, ye’re going to lose it?”
“Well, that too. And to prevent you from eating sweets you shouldn’t—“
“Ye’re disgustin’, ye know that? I can’t believe ye just shoved that whole—ah, who am I kidding? Of course I believe it. Don’t expect me to give ye the Heimlich when ye start choking on it. That really wasn’t necessary, Dom—or didn’t my eyes tell ye that?”
“Ath a matter o’ hact—“
“Shut your mouth, ye wanker! God, ye just spat half-chewed éclair on me. Ye’re truly revolting.”
“Billy—“
“Oh, there’s Paul. Looks like we’re wanted back on set, ye’d better hurry. And wipe your chin—something tells me the Ent draught did not contain chocolate.”
“Bugger…how’s that?”
“No, ye missed it—more to the left. No, up a bit. No—oh, for—here, let me… There. Now ye’re a proper Hobbit again.”
“Thanks, Pip.”
“Anything for my Merry. …Now what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Billy—“
“Ah, shite, that’s us they’re looking for. Come on, Merry! We’re off to rescue Middle-Earth. Grab your tray, I’ll meet ye outside.”
“…Fuck.”
“Your eyes give you away, Billy.”
“Who the—Dom? Is that ye?”
“Every little flicker, every little glance.”
“Dom, what the fuck are ye doing, ringing me at—Christ! Half three in the morning? We’ve got to be up in an hour and a half, ye fuckwit.”
“Every time you close them when I fix the clasp on your cape.”
“Ye’re drunk, aren’t ye? Dom, have ye been drinking?”
“Copious amounts, Billy my lad.”
“Don’t ye ‘Billy-my-lad’ me. Where are ye, Dom?”
“Umm—“
“Dom?”
“No, no, give me a minute, I know this one…”
“Dom.”
“Ha! Street signs!”
“Street—What the hell are ye doing wandering the streets at half three in the fucking morning?”
“I wasn’t. I was drinking in the pub, silly Billy. But they don’t love me anymore, they sent me out.”
“Yeah, a bloody hour ago. Where are ye, Dom?”
“Uhh—Princess and Ashland.”
“That’s halfway across town!”
“I’m a little… How do I get home, Billy?”
“I’m calling ye a cab, Dom. Stand under those street signs and don’t ye fucking move, ye hear me? Don’t ye move an inch.”
“I’ll stay here. Where’s my house key, Billy?”
“Fuck. I’ll have the cab bring ye here.”
“I love you, Billy.”
“Ye’re drunk.”
“Yes, I am. I am smashed. But I still love you.”
“Love ye too, Dom. I’m going to hang up now and call ye a cab. Don’t move.”
“I won’t. I’ll wait right here.”
“Dom. Ye all right?”
“’M drunk.”
“We have an hour to sober ye up before Feet. Drink this coffee, and take these.”
“What are they?”
“Vitamin B. Drink the coffee, then go take a cold shower. If ye show up to makeup still drunk, Pete will hear about it.”
“Your eyes give you away, Billy. You’re pissed with me.”
“I’m not pissed, Dom. Drink.”
“You’re pissed. I’m sorry, Billy. I’m sorry.”
“Get off me, ye wee numptie. All right, I’m a little pissed. What were ye thinking, getting trolleyed like this when we have an early call? What’s goin’ on with ye, Dom?”
“Your eyes give you away and I’m lost.”
“I don’t even know what that means, ye daft twat.”
“And that’s my problem.”
“No, keep drinking your coffee, Dom. Maybe we’d better save this conversation for when ye’ve sobered up.”
“No—now. I can’t do it anymore, Billy.”
“What can’t ye do? Come on, tell me.”
“You never say a word, Billy, in fact you deny anything that even comes close, but your eyes give you away.”
“Ye keep saying that. What the hell do ye mean, Dom?”
“I see you how you look at me. I see it in your eyes, that you care, that you want me—maybe even that you love me? But I see the fight you’re having with yourself, Billy, I see that you’re suffering, and you don’t have to, Billy, because I love you and I want you and I’ve been trying to be patient and let you get here yourself, but you’re so damn stubborn or scared or whatever you are, and don’t look at me like that, Billy—“
“Ye’re drunk, Dom.”
“No I’m not! Oh. Well, yes, I am. But I know what I’m saying, Bills, and I can still read what your eyes are telling me.”
“Which is?”
“Which is…you’re pissed with me again. Don’t be pissed because I told you I’m in love with you, Billy, please don’t, please.”
“Dom. Get off my lap.”
“No. Not ‘til you show me you’re not pissed ‘cos I told you I’m in love with you. Not moving.”
“I’m not pissed because ye said that. Get off me.”
“Then why are you pissed, Billy?”
“I’m pissed because ye said it now.Ye said it in the middle of the night when ye’re tired and drunk, Dom, and I will not believe a word ye say. Let go of me.”
“You won’t believe what I say? Will you believe this, Billy?”
“Dom. Let go of my hand.”
“That’s my heart beneath your hand, Billy. It’s yours.”
“Isn’t that romantic? Quit fucking taking the pish and get off me.”
“I’m not taking the piss! God, I just—fine. Fine, Billy, you leave me no choice.”
“Dom! Let go of my hand! Now.”
“You feel that, Bills? You feel how hard I am? That’s what you do to me.”
“Dom, stop.”
“I’m hard all day, every day, Billy. It’s downright embarrassing sometimes, but it’s you. With your Pippin curls, or in your wetsuit, or watching you play your guitar, or seeing your face when I say something that makes you laugh. Can you believe that, Billy?”
“Dom—“
“Your eyes just went dark, Billy. You know what that tells me? That tells me you believe me. Your hand on me feels so good, Billy, it feels right and I’ve wanted this for so long. Here’s something else you can believe, Bills…”
“…”
“Dom, don’t—“
“You don’t want me to kiss you? Don’t you believe what my lips are saying when I kiss you?”
“I don’t know…”
“Close your eyes, Bills.”
“Dom—“
“Close them.”
“All right. But please, quit wriggling around.”
“Sorry. Okay, listen to me. You listening?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Listen to me, Pippin. Listen to your Merry, my dear, dear Pip. You mean the world to me, from the top of your curly-haired head to the tips of your curly-haired toes. My day begins when you open your eyes and ends when I tell you goodnight. Nothing exists for me outside the sphere you inhabit, and my constant aim is to see you full of joy. My wee Pip—and you are mine—I love you, Pippin.”
“Merry—oh God, Merry—“
“Shh, it’s all right. Don’t sound so stricken, my dear Pip. Hobbits are intended to live, love, and be joyful. Do you love your Merry, Pippin? Can you give your Merry a little kiss?”
“Merry—my dearest Merry—“
“…”
“…”
“Mmm. I love you, Billy. Open your eyes.”
“Dom. Dom, I…”
“I know.”
“Ye know what?”
“I know you love me.”
“I—I do, Dom.”
“Your eyes give you away.”
“Good. That’s good, Dom.”
“Billy?”
“Yes?”
“Will you say it? So I can believe it?”
“I love ye too, Dom.”
Author
pippinmctaggartPairing Billy Boyd/Dominic Monaghan
Rating PG-13
Summary Dom has a difficult time getting Billy to pay attention.
Disclaimer The following conversation is a work of fiction.
Notes Written for
lotrpschallenge Challenge # 8 EDIT: Thanks as always to my lovely beta
1420 for the beta, for the support, and for posting while my 'puter's AWOL.“Your eyes give you away.”
“Mmm hmm. That’s nice, Dom.”
“Billy!”
“Hmm? What? Sorry, Dom, I was reading. What did ye say?”
“You know, for such a good actor, you’re really bollocks at lying.”
“Lying? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come off it. You heard every word I said.”
“I didn’t. See this thing in my hands, Dominic? My people call it a book. And we do something with it called ‘reading’.”
“You can be such a fucking prat sometimes, Billy.”
“Ah, come on, Dom, don’t leave—Dom? …Fuck.”
“Your eyes give you away, you know.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, put the eyebrow away. It doesn’t work on me.”
“Work? Really, Dom, ye’re not making much sense today.”
“Sense my arse.”
“That was rather my point.”
“Shut up.”
“All right, Dom, what exactly are my eyes giving away? That if ye don’t eat that éclair on your tray, ye’re going to lose it?”
“Well, that too. And to prevent you from eating sweets you shouldn’t—“
“Ye’re disgustin’, ye know that? I can’t believe ye just shoved that whole—ah, who am I kidding? Of course I believe it. Don’t expect me to give ye the Heimlich when ye start choking on it. That really wasn’t necessary, Dom—or didn’t my eyes tell ye that?”
“Ath a matter o’ hact—“
“Shut your mouth, ye wanker! God, ye just spat half-chewed éclair on me. Ye’re truly revolting.”
“Billy—“
“Oh, there’s Paul. Looks like we’re wanted back on set, ye’d better hurry. And wipe your chin—something tells me the Ent draught did not contain chocolate.”
“Bugger…how’s that?”
“No, ye missed it—more to the left. No, up a bit. No—oh, for—here, let me… There. Now ye’re a proper Hobbit again.”
“Thanks, Pip.”
“Anything for my Merry. …Now what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Billy—“
“Ah, shite, that’s us they’re looking for. Come on, Merry! We’re off to rescue Middle-Earth. Grab your tray, I’ll meet ye outside.”
“…Fuck.”
“Your eyes give you away, Billy.”
“Who the—Dom? Is that ye?”
“Every little flicker, every little glance.”
“Dom, what the fuck are ye doing, ringing me at—Christ! Half three in the morning? We’ve got to be up in an hour and a half, ye fuckwit.”
“Every time you close them when I fix the clasp on your cape.”
“Ye’re drunk, aren’t ye? Dom, have ye been drinking?”
“Copious amounts, Billy my lad.”
“Don’t ye ‘Billy-my-lad’ me. Where are ye, Dom?”
“Umm—“
“Dom?”
“No, no, give me a minute, I know this one…”
“Dom.”
“Ha! Street signs!”
“Street—What the hell are ye doing wandering the streets at half three in the fucking morning?”
“I wasn’t. I was drinking in the pub, silly Billy. But they don’t love me anymore, they sent me out.”
“Yeah, a bloody hour ago. Where are ye, Dom?”
“Uhh—Princess and Ashland.”
“That’s halfway across town!”
“I’m a little… How do I get home, Billy?”
“I’m calling ye a cab, Dom. Stand under those street signs and don’t ye fucking move, ye hear me? Don’t ye move an inch.”
“I’ll stay here. Where’s my house key, Billy?”
“Fuck. I’ll have the cab bring ye here.”
“I love you, Billy.”
“Ye’re drunk.”
“Yes, I am. I am smashed. But I still love you.”
“Love ye too, Dom. I’m going to hang up now and call ye a cab. Don’t move.”
“I won’t. I’ll wait right here.”
“Dom. Ye all right?”
“’M drunk.”
“We have an hour to sober ye up before Feet. Drink this coffee, and take these.”
“What are they?”
“Vitamin B. Drink the coffee, then go take a cold shower. If ye show up to makeup still drunk, Pete will hear about it.”
“Your eyes give you away, Billy. You’re pissed with me.”
“I’m not pissed, Dom. Drink.”
“You’re pissed. I’m sorry, Billy. I’m sorry.”
“Get off me, ye wee numptie. All right, I’m a little pissed. What were ye thinking, getting trolleyed like this when we have an early call? What’s goin’ on with ye, Dom?”
“Your eyes give you away and I’m lost.”
“I don’t even know what that means, ye daft twat.”
“And that’s my problem.”
“No, keep drinking your coffee, Dom. Maybe we’d better save this conversation for when ye’ve sobered up.”
“No—now. I can’t do it anymore, Billy.”
“What can’t ye do? Come on, tell me.”
“You never say a word, Billy, in fact you deny anything that even comes close, but your eyes give you away.”
“Ye keep saying that. What the hell do ye mean, Dom?”
“I see you how you look at me. I see it in your eyes, that you care, that you want me—maybe even that you love me? But I see the fight you’re having with yourself, Billy, I see that you’re suffering, and you don’t have to, Billy, because I love you and I want you and I’ve been trying to be patient and let you get here yourself, but you’re so damn stubborn or scared or whatever you are, and don’t look at me like that, Billy—“
“Ye’re drunk, Dom.”
“No I’m not! Oh. Well, yes, I am. But I know what I’m saying, Bills, and I can still read what your eyes are telling me.”
“Which is?”
“Which is…you’re pissed with me again. Don’t be pissed because I told you I’m in love with you, Billy, please don’t, please.”
“Dom. Get off my lap.”
“No. Not ‘til you show me you’re not pissed ‘cos I told you I’m in love with you. Not moving.”
“I’m not pissed because ye said that. Get off me.”
“Then why are you pissed, Billy?”
“I’m pissed because ye said it now.Ye said it in the middle of the night when ye’re tired and drunk, Dom, and I will not believe a word ye say. Let go of me.”
“You won’t believe what I say? Will you believe this, Billy?”
“Dom. Let go of my hand.”
“That’s my heart beneath your hand, Billy. It’s yours.”
“Isn’t that romantic? Quit fucking taking the pish and get off me.”
“I’m not taking the piss! God, I just—fine. Fine, Billy, you leave me no choice.”
“Dom! Let go of my hand! Now.”
“You feel that, Bills? You feel how hard I am? That’s what you do to me.”
“Dom, stop.”
“I’m hard all day, every day, Billy. It’s downright embarrassing sometimes, but it’s you. With your Pippin curls, or in your wetsuit, or watching you play your guitar, or seeing your face when I say something that makes you laugh. Can you believe that, Billy?”
“Dom—“
“Your eyes just went dark, Billy. You know what that tells me? That tells me you believe me. Your hand on me feels so good, Billy, it feels right and I’ve wanted this for so long. Here’s something else you can believe, Bills…”
“…”
“Dom, don’t—“
“You don’t want me to kiss you? Don’t you believe what my lips are saying when I kiss you?”
“I don’t know…”
“Close your eyes, Bills.”
“Dom—“
“Close them.”
“All right. But please, quit wriggling around.”
“Sorry. Okay, listen to me. You listening?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Listen to me, Pippin. Listen to your Merry, my dear, dear Pip. You mean the world to me, from the top of your curly-haired head to the tips of your curly-haired toes. My day begins when you open your eyes and ends when I tell you goodnight. Nothing exists for me outside the sphere you inhabit, and my constant aim is to see you full of joy. My wee Pip—and you are mine—I love you, Pippin.”
“Merry—oh God, Merry—“
“Shh, it’s all right. Don’t sound so stricken, my dear Pip. Hobbits are intended to live, love, and be joyful. Do you love your Merry, Pippin? Can you give your Merry a little kiss?”
“Merry—my dearest Merry—“
“…”
“…”
“Mmm. I love you, Billy. Open your eyes.”
“Dom. Dom, I…”
“I know.”
“Ye know what?”
“I know you love me.”
“I—I do, Dom.”
“Your eyes give you away.”
“Good. That’s good, Dom.”
“Billy?”
“Yes?”
“Will you say it? So I can believe it?”
“I love ye too, Dom.”
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