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monaboyd Jan. 29th, 2004 07:58 pm)
perfect-oasis.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Jan. 29th, 2004 07:58 pm)Title: For the Love of Art
Author: The Phantom Writer![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silentnumbsmoke
Pairing: Monaboyd!
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I have never owned them. I never shall. *sigh*
Feedback: Pretty please?
Notes: I was thinking back to a few years ago when I was in Philadelphia with my family; we were in the Rodin Museum. There was a small, amusing incident, and... well, I realized that'd it be just the sort of thing that Dom would do. So... this story was born. *nods, re-reads the note* Hmm. That doesn't make much sense. *shrugs* Sorry!
As always, thanks to my beta,airlia_vega!
“They all say ‘Don’t touch,’” Dominic pouted with a sigh.
“And for good reason, Dom. Look,” Billy explained patiently, “you can see where people have touched the sculptures before. It’s all shiny where it shouldn’t be.”
“That doesn’t stop me from wanting to touch it.”
“Oh yes, I forgot. You’re intrigued by shiny things.”
Dom raised an eyebrow, sending Billy a crooked grin. “I am? But you’re not shiny, Billy!” He licked his lips in feigned arousal. “And I’m awfully intrigued by you!”
Billy sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, shush. C’mon, let’s just be quiet and appreciate Rodin’s art, shall we?”
Although Dom was feeling more than a tad hyper, he pushed the feeling aside, allowing himself time to be serious as they walked among century-old sculptures.
Billy smiled at Dom’s sudden calm. Although the younger man often let his inner child show, the grown man did peek out at times, making for a nice change.
Billy had always appreciated all types of art – music, sculpture, painting, dance… he had often wondered what the artists’ inspiration was. Glancing over at the wandering Dominic, Billy suddenly knew. He suddenly knew what had caused The Thinker to pop into Rodin’s mind’s eye, or what inspired Picasso’s blue period.
Love.
As Dom wandered along mindlessly, his hands clasped behind his back, inspecting the preciseness of each sculpture, Billy smiled. Dom’s body held so much unrecognized gracefulness. His smile broadened; he was the only one who knew it. Watching his boyfriend, Billy knew: if he were a sculptor, he would have only one subject in mind to sculpt: Dom. He could think of nothing and no one as beautiful as Dominic Monaghan.
Billy could just imagine the pleasure of staring at Dom day in and day out, never getting bored as he chiseled out Dom’s crooked jaw line or that steely glint in his eyes.
If he were a painter, it would be no different. As much as he adored Glasgow, he would never paint landscapes. Instead, he would concentrate on getting just the right mix of red and peach-color to catch the blush in Dom’s cheeks when Billy would whisper dirty suggestions at him from over the dinner table.
Billy beamed just from the thought of it. Once they left Philadelphia and returned home, he would definitely have to try his hand at painting. There could be one of two results, both good. One: Billy could find true passion and talent in painting, ending up with a great portrait of Dominic. Two: Billy could be bollocks at painting. In a mix of frustration and flirtation, he’d fling blue paint at the modeling Dom, and they’d end up making love right then and there, ending up covered in paint. They’d take a few snapshots of the accidental ‘masterpiece,’ then go to take a shower to wash the paint off, resulting in more sex. Scenario two was highly more likely, and, to be honest, preferable to Result One as well.
Billy’s thoughts were interrupted (Good timing, he thought, feeling a familiar tingling in his pants at the idea of a paint-covered Dom) by Dom’s triumphant gasp.
“Billy, Billy!,” he whispered.
“What?”
“That sculpture doesn’t have a sign not to touch!” Biting his lip with curiosity, his hand snaked forward, inching towards the work of art.
“Dom!” Billy scolded, making a grab for Dominic’s sneaky hand.
Dom grinned wickedly in reply to Billy’s stern look. “I wasn’t really going to touch it, Billeh!”
“Humph.”
All was forgiven as Dom leaned forward, quickly pressing his lips to Billy’s. “There. D’you love me again?”
Billy let out a laugh. “Fine, fine. Yes, I love you.”
“Good!” Dom exclaimed, taking Billy’s left hand, as they continued to walk in silence, observing the pain-stakingly amazing art.
Billy let out a quick yelp as Dom’s fingers jabbed into his side. Smiling weakly at the glaring security guard and the staring tourists, he let out a hiss. “What the hell was that for?”
Knowing that he had Billy’s full attention, Dominic let out a grin and raised his eyebrows suggestively. His left hand (the one not intertwined with Billy’s) raised and pointed to a specific statue. “The Kiss.” He leaned forward, his hot breath grazing Billy’s skin. He stopped and raised his chin so his lips were a hair away from Billy’s ear. “I feel,” he spoke huskily, “that life should imitate art.” His tongue darted in and out of Billy’s ear before pulling away.
Billy bit his lip but couldn’t hold back a grin. “You memorize it,” he told Dom. “I’m going to go outside and use my mobile to call a cab.”
Dom nodded with an ear-to-ear grin, his eyes scanning over the sculpture of the disheveled bodies. He couldn’t wait to imitate art.
Author: The Phantom Writer
silentnumbsmokePairing: Monaboyd!
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I have never owned them. I never shall. *sigh*
Feedback: Pretty please?
Notes: I was thinking back to a few years ago when I was in Philadelphia with my family; we were in the Rodin Museum. There was a small, amusing incident, and... well, I realized that'd it be just the sort of thing that Dom would do. So... this story was born. *nods, re-reads the note* Hmm. That doesn't make much sense. *shrugs* Sorry!
As always, thanks to my beta,
airlia_vega!“They all say ‘Don’t touch,’” Dominic pouted with a sigh.
“And for good reason, Dom. Look,” Billy explained patiently, “you can see where people have touched the sculptures before. It’s all shiny where it shouldn’t be.”
“That doesn’t stop me from wanting to touch it.”
“Oh yes, I forgot. You’re intrigued by shiny things.”
Dom raised an eyebrow, sending Billy a crooked grin. “I am? But you’re not shiny, Billy!” He licked his lips in feigned arousal. “And I’m awfully intrigued by you!”
Billy sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, shush. C’mon, let’s just be quiet and appreciate Rodin’s art, shall we?”
Although Dom was feeling more than a tad hyper, he pushed the feeling aside, allowing himself time to be serious as they walked among century-old sculptures.
Billy smiled at Dom’s sudden calm. Although the younger man often let his inner child show, the grown man did peek out at times, making for a nice change.
Billy had always appreciated all types of art – music, sculpture, painting, dance… he had often wondered what the artists’ inspiration was. Glancing over at the wandering Dominic, Billy suddenly knew. He suddenly knew what had caused The Thinker to pop into Rodin’s mind’s eye, or what inspired Picasso’s blue period.
Love.
As Dom wandered along mindlessly, his hands clasped behind his back, inspecting the preciseness of each sculpture, Billy smiled. Dom’s body held so much unrecognized gracefulness. His smile broadened; he was the only one who knew it. Watching his boyfriend, Billy knew: if he were a sculptor, he would have only one subject in mind to sculpt: Dom. He could think of nothing and no one as beautiful as Dominic Monaghan.
Billy could just imagine the pleasure of staring at Dom day in and day out, never getting bored as he chiseled out Dom’s crooked jaw line or that steely glint in his eyes.
If he were a painter, it would be no different. As much as he adored Glasgow, he would never paint landscapes. Instead, he would concentrate on getting just the right mix of red and peach-color to catch the blush in Dom’s cheeks when Billy would whisper dirty suggestions at him from over the dinner table.
Billy beamed just from the thought of it. Once they left Philadelphia and returned home, he would definitely have to try his hand at painting. There could be one of two results, both good. One: Billy could find true passion and talent in painting, ending up with a great portrait of Dominic. Two: Billy could be bollocks at painting. In a mix of frustration and flirtation, he’d fling blue paint at the modeling Dom, and they’d end up making love right then and there, ending up covered in paint. They’d take a few snapshots of the accidental ‘masterpiece,’ then go to take a shower to wash the paint off, resulting in more sex. Scenario two was highly more likely, and, to be honest, preferable to Result One as well.
Billy’s thoughts were interrupted (Good timing, he thought, feeling a familiar tingling in his pants at the idea of a paint-covered Dom) by Dom’s triumphant gasp.
“Billy, Billy!,” he whispered.
“What?”
“That sculpture doesn’t have a sign not to touch!” Biting his lip with curiosity, his hand snaked forward, inching towards the work of art.
“Dom!” Billy scolded, making a grab for Dominic’s sneaky hand.
Dom grinned wickedly in reply to Billy’s stern look. “I wasn’t really going to touch it, Billeh!”
“Humph.”
All was forgiven as Dom leaned forward, quickly pressing his lips to Billy’s. “There. D’you love me again?”
Billy let out a laugh. “Fine, fine. Yes, I love you.”
“Good!” Dom exclaimed, taking Billy’s left hand, as they continued to walk in silence, observing the pain-stakingly amazing art.
Billy let out a quick yelp as Dom’s fingers jabbed into his side. Smiling weakly at the glaring security guard and the staring tourists, he let out a hiss. “What the hell was that for?”
Knowing that he had Billy’s full attention, Dominic let out a grin and raised his eyebrows suggestively. His left hand (the one not intertwined with Billy’s) raised and pointed to a specific statue. “The Kiss.” He leaned forward, his hot breath grazing Billy’s skin. He stopped and raised his chin so his lips were a hair away from Billy’s ear. “I feel,” he spoke huskily, “that life should imitate art.” His tongue darted in and out of Billy’s ear before pulling away.
Billy bit his lip but couldn’t hold back a grin. “You memorize it,” he told Dom. “I’m going to go outside and use my mobile to call a cab.”
Dom nodded with an ear-to-ear grin, his eyes scanning over the sculpture of the disheveled bodies. He couldn’t wait to imitate art.
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From:
no subject
::few moments later::
"OMG!!! They are IN MY FAVORITE GALLERY!! AUGH!!" ::SQUEE!!::
This was simply lovely. Their interplay and characterization was spot on... and the thought of Billy painting is endearing and laugh-inducing. Just charming... much like our boys.
Thank you for writing this. You made my night. ^_^!
From:
no subject
Mmm, paint covered Dom... *drools, signs on to rp*
From:
no subject
“And I’m awfully intrigued by you!”
That was cute. I get this really random image of Dom groping the side of Billy's face, and it makes me smile. I also really like the image of Dom wanting to touch the sculptures and having to restrain himself, like little kids do. Cute.
From:
no subject
Very very cute :)