When the muse calls, the artist has to jump

[light-the-sky76.livejournal.com]

Title: When the muse calls, the artist has to jump
Author: eleanor_76 ~ me!
Rating: Urrr, PG?
Pairing: Dom/Billy
Disclaimer: Not true, all lies, made up.
Feedback: Pretty please
Summary:I got the idea from the LOTR challenge number 16 about writing a fic from the point of view of a stranger. I'm not in the challenge community, but I had the idea for this on the way to work one day, and it was raining so I was glad of the distraction :)
Beta-ed by indigo_blind (thanks *waves*)







I like people watching. It’s a good thing to do if you’re a writer…an aspiring writer…

No, I am a writer. What is it they say, if when you wake up the first thing you think about is writing, then you’re a writer. (The fact that Whoopie Goldberg said it to Lauren Hill in Sister Act 2 doesn’t make it any less true.)

This café is a brilliant place to watch people and try and create their story – where they’ve been, where they’re going. I’ve got my (large) mug of tea and a brownie (chocolate aids the creative process), so I’m ready for whatever stories today will bring me.

So who do we have here in the Busy Bee café? There’s a lady in the corner with four bags of shopping and dark circles under her eyes. An elderly couple by the window having the Pensioners Special and the two men who have just come in. They both look awkward, not really looking at each other. They’re both fair haired, one green eyed and the other blue, and they’re both wearing jeans and a T shirt but Blue Eyes with his bracelets and rings has a slightly edgier look about him while Green Eyes is more…not conservative, but more earthy perhaps. As Blue reaches past Green to pick up a napkin his hand brushes Green’s arm and they both jump.

I think I’ll watch them. They look more interesting than Bags Lady or The Old Dears.

Luckily they sit on the table opposite me, so I can hear their conversation.

“So,” Blue leans back in his chair with his arms folded and regards Green unwaveringly. His pose is bold, almost challenging but behind it I can tell that he’s nervous. His face is tense and his fingers clutch hard at the fabric of his T shirt.

“So…so what, Dom?” So Blue is called Dom. Odd name. It must be short for something.

Green is stirring sugar into his tea and staring into his mug like it contains something fascinating.

Dom makes a sweeping gesture with his hand. “So, how are you this morning, Billy?”

And Green is Billy.

What’s going on here then? What’s behind all this discomfort between the two of them? What happened earlier, last night, that has them both tongue tied and wary?

An argument?

A night of torrid sex?

A declaration of love?

Both? Torrid sex followed by a declaration of love? Vice versa?

Billy shrugs, still staring at his mug, stirring the liquid one way, then the other, and back again.

“When you’ve wanted something for a long time, thought about it, planned it; you’re never really prepare for what will happen next, you’ve never thought that far ahead. So you feel a bit…lost.”

Dom snorts. “Very funny.” He reaches across the table and lays his hand over Billy’s, stilling it. Billy finally looks up and meets Dom’s eyes and they look at each other for a long moment, the gaze only broken when the waitress arrives with two full English breakfasts.

Oh yeah, it was both, it was definitely both. I can feel the threads of the story weaving together.

Two friends laughing, laughing so hard they were holding onto each other for support. Then they’re not laughing, but they’re still holding each other. And everything stops. Time slows down to a crawl and the world shifts so that the whole universe is held in the places where their bodies touch, and maintaining that contact is more important that drawing their next breath. Their lips meet, neither of them sure who leaned into the other but some how they have and they’re kissing, softly, sweetly, both trembling with lust and the aching fragility of the moment.

The kiss changes, becomes more forceful with passion. Then hands move, caressing, exploring, unbuttoning. Whatever mood prompted the kiss builds and shifts leading them both to the bedroom and now their bodies are intertwining. The room echoes with gasps and cries of joy, then “I love you.” “I love you, too.”

The waitress’ appearance ended the long look between the men and seems to have shaken Dom’s bold mood. He prods at his hash browns, despondency tugging the corners of his mouth down and turning the blue eyes that had been flashing with confidence into deep pools, dark as a mountain cave.

Billy looks up from his breakfast and studies his friend. Dom doesn’t notice Billy watching him and moves from his hash browns to his fried eggs, piercing the yellow centre and drawing patterns with his fork in the yolk.

Billy’s face changes, like he’s made a decision, or remembered something he thought he’d forgotten, it brightens – he’s actually glowing.

“Do you want to know the truth?”

Dom raises his eyes.

“The truth about how I feel this morning?”

This time Dom lifts his head and looks at Billy straight on, then lays his fork down leaving his mangled eggs alone.

“Well?”

“Okay.”

I‘m leaning in their direction, hanging on Billy’s words. What what what what? And, oh, this might look a bit obvious, so I’ll reach over a pick up a packed of sugar, casual like, and maybe they won’t notice that I’m practically falling off my seat in anticipation.

“I feel good,” he reaches up and stretches so high his shoulder pops. “It’s a bright shiny morning. The sun is up, it’s a brand new day. Everything is great.”

Dom tilts his head to one side “So everything is bright and shiny today? It’s all good?”

“Never better Dom. Feels like it’s the first day of the rest of my life”

Dom, for all his carefully arranged edginess, looks in this moments like a little boy who’s been told that yes, he can have a puppy. “’I feel good in a special way, I’m in love and it’s a sunny day’” He quotes.

“Good Day Sunshine.” Billy smiles a smug ‘I know that reference’ smile, still glowing.

“Yep. You can’t argue with the Beatles, Billy. They’ve got a lyric for every occasion”

“That they do. Your breakfast is getting cold, Dom.”

Dom turns his attention back to his (slightly cold and slightly shredded) food, attacking it with renewed gusto.

Pen! Pen pen pen pen pen! Why does it always fall to the bottom of my bag!? Right, there it is, hopefully it works, yes, good. I have to get this down before the muse wanders off.

Two men, friends, and then lovers. Billy and Dom. Working title - Together, like that.