monaboyd | FIC: The Cure (3/3) ~ Surety

Title: The Cure (3/3) ~ Surety
Author: Vensre
Rating: PG
Pairing: Monaboyd
Summary: Understanding.
Disclaimer: The way that I can imagine is not the true Way.
Notes:

puddle_took gives me faith in myself. Warning for a bit more angst before the happy. Please read part two first.
Feedback: Will save my soul.

[ The Cure || I. Know | II. Abject | III. Surety ]

Screw the consequences. I know it's out of the blue, but. Momentum, now. Touch, now. Yeah, the cameras are on us.

So leaning in, and I but I can't. Chaos inside me. Our eyes lock, and that sounds so harsh when he's being so gentle.

A long moment. He takes my arm and leads me away. (My entire centre is left out there on the red carpet, right?)

"Dom. Breathe, Dom, it's alright. I know, mate. Shh."

"Billy, no, you don't--"

"Dom."

We are both still, clutching at each other for balance in the dark of some quiet side room. It's not working.

"Down here, then." We sink to the floor in our sharp clothes, slide beneath an empty institutional table with cobwebs and a solid wall behind it. Our backs against that, then. Chills still wracking us, catching back and forth. We are too telepathic.

"Are you sure?"

He is quiet for a, for so many long moments. "Of course. And you need to relax, right now, 'cause ye're makin' me all..." He shows me with a touch how shaky his hands are.

"I'm sorry. Billy."

"Calm."

"Okay, right." I close my eyes, since they aren't telling me anything anyway, and let myself fall into him. My forehead and the skin of his throat. Sounds of breathing, mine more panicked. He siphons it all away just by being there, and maybe that's the most pressing reason we're all wrong for each other. I shouldn't mention it. My voice won't let me anyway. Better, it's all.

"Dom." His arm sneaks around the back of my neck, a tangible actual cuddle, and the way he is flushes all through me like defined shapes and balanced thought, and I feel impossibly okay right now.

"I know. I know. Can't get too used to this, Bill." Hitch. Pause. Can't look at it too closely, but I can let it leave my mouth. He already knows how hopeless I am. "You should have left well enough alone."

"Dom Dom Dommie. You..." What a sigh.

"Shouldn't be doing this t' you. I know. I know. Don't you think I've," I'd shut my whole mind down if I could, "thought it through, so many times. Can't just cancel out of this. Don't know how."

"God, Dommie. That's enough." And he's holding me, heaven knows why. "Stop, alright? You're just. I can't listen t' you so sad." His voice lifting at the end, wavering, like he feels it all.

"I'm not asking anything of you. I shouldn't've." How calm I sound. I don't know what I'll do after this. Start over as a whole new person. Maybe I'm stuck with the darkness, but so many people survive that sort of thing. I can fall and fall and fall and it doesn't matter one bit to the world. I can fall and hit and keep breathing, hasn't it happened so many times before? I swallow and, yes, pull away, detaching from the innocent skintoskin that was steadying me. "I'm fine. You know, I'm just fine. Just a little trouble." My eyes must be open; I see the shadow that makes up his other hand scrubbing at his eyes. Figure out why.

"No. Just, just be quiet for one goddamned minute and listen? Shouldn've." He laughs a brief derisive scrape. "I shouldnae've left ye. I could never stop thinkin' about it, Dom. How you looked, out on the floor wi' yer eyes all..." My name sounds like some mystic word of power the way he keeps invoking it, stronger than real curses. "Please. Stop feeling all this, what ye're..."

"But." I can't stop shivering. His hands are pushing up the sleeves of my jacket - we're going to be so rumpled - and laying his hot palms against the skin there. No power in my arms at the moment, they're limp in his grip. "What, Billy..?" Pathetic.

"I'm not gay," he bites out, terrified, and even I flinch at the intensity of the word. "But Dom? I love you. Please. Please."

I almost laugh. Oho. Out in the open, now, everything we've been trying not to say for all this time. But I can't possibly laugh when those words are passing through his lips. I try to say something back, but it's just noise, and everything's dissolving.

"Shit. Done it now."

I have stopped shaking and am lying in his arms. Well. "I didn't pass out."

"You were doin' a good impression." He sounds calmer, slipped out of his serious mode and possibly in shock.

"Thanks. I've been working on that one." Deep breath, and another. I feel... there's finally some time. "Are you leaving?"

"What? Ah. No." Vague. Maybe I should kiss him.

"Not gay, huh? I'm not gay, either." Not exactly.

He starts violently, as though he expected it to only ever come up once, and makes a little whistle between his teeth.

I can laugh now. "You're the only person who makes the world okay, but that's not why I want to be around you." How odd to be saying this out loud, after all these years of getting the wording exactly right. "I like you. You're funny. I love you. We match."

"Match?"

"We go well together. They were all taking pictures of us out there. That's not why. I don' know. How can I tell you?"

"I'll stay. Dom, I'll stay. I'm sorreh. I've been horrible t' you."

"Not so horrible." The dizziness from my panic attack isn't all gone yet. There have been worse ones, and for stupider reasons.

"I... I saw ye kissing Viggo tonight. Dom."

"Yep. I kiss people. Quite a bit. He's not gay, either, is Viggo." I suppose I needn't remind him that Viggo stayed.

"But. I can't. My."

I sit up and try to see his face, and settle close, towards him at an angle. Still under the table. It helps. I touch his forehead, and the heat coming off it is remarkable, and almost stings.

"My stomach twisted. I couldn't bear t' see. It. Dom?" He sounds torn-apart. Maybe that's just his normality breaking down.

"That's called jealousy. I'm rather intimately acquainted wi--" my voice fails me when I feel his breath on my face, perceiving his trembling through proximity alone. "Oh. Billy, you."

I hear him swallow. His hands are knotted in my jacket, since when? I pry one away, and carefully lace our fingers together. The more connection, the better. For this part. (Oh, god, I've waited so long. Why now? Now?)

"Are you sure?" He makes no reply. I'm not sure he's even able. I lick my lips without really meaning to; it shouldn't be so wet.

I think. I need to do this.

Lean, just like I meant to out there, and for a more rational reason, or so I dare to think.

One last breath before the change. Swallow, myself. Tilt. I see his vague outline, and some glittery reflection where his eyes are supposed to be. But they might be closed. Shut up and! I jolt forward and it's a touch like electricity, holding me still until he relaxes and tilts himself and really begins kissing back. And he means it. I can still understand this Billy who lets me kiss him, this one who wants to kiss me but is so hung up on what it means, that. Yeah, he left, but I think I finally know why... stupidest mistake we ever made. And now that he realises, now that-- shit it's over wait can't we!

Flow like a wave falling and returning, and this time he kisses me. His one hand still tangled up in mine, his other around my neck and pulling, and contact that puts the sky inside my chest. His lips. His lips I've looked at so often and now feel, which move and convey things directly to my mouth, like we're overlapping. Part and return. I kiss his jaw, too. He's gripping so fiercely, and I'm sure he doesn't understand exactly what's going on in his heart, 'cause I can almost hear it.

I don't know what to say, I'm flying.

"Dom. I've been. So."

"Shh, Boyd. We have to go back out there at some point." Reminding myself as much as him. This is not the time for unbuttoning anything.

I think he wants to ask if I'm okay. But he doesn't need to.

"Under a table at a movie theatre?"

He's laughing. "You look so wonderful tonight. Hope I didn't, y'know. Mess up your hair?"

"Cunt! You so did." Perfection. "Pretty sharp yourself. All dusty now! And covered with spiders, probably." Just embracing. Kiss him again to celebrate the fact that I can. "Billy. I've loved you."

He flickers against me (soclosesoclosesoclosehe'slettingmekeephim), "But 've been so."

"You can feel guilty if you want. It hurt, when you. But not too long. Don't make an issue about it, because couple counselling would be!" I can't continue that sentence, but I think he gets the point. It has to be light or it'll be too heavy. And I love him.

"That's not... why I'm staying. I dinnae know how t' explain."

"It's not even supposed t' be about easy words." A whim - I raise a hand and brace against him and the wall, and tip the table from over us onto its side with a shockingly loud crash. "Just because we do. We should, even." I help him up. It's my turn. And, taking advantage of his off-balance moment again, I angle for a kiss and let him complete it. My panic has receded entirely, and I've seldom felt so real. But that's not why, either.

This story does not finish, even after we manoeuvre around the overturned table to find the door back to the bright noisy world, and I can't say how glad I am about that.

[ The Cure ]

Current Mood: content
Current Music: Res - 700 Mile Situation

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Date: 2004-09-06 03:36 pm (UTC)

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