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monaboyd Oct. 5th, 2003 02:12 pm)
trakkie.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Oct. 5th, 2003 02:12 pm)Title: Iowa City (Part 1)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trakkie
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Band AU. Billy and Dom go looking for a new member.
"Are you out of your fucking mind, Dom?" They've driven hours to get to this Iowa City bar, and it's one of the most stereotypical college bars that Billy's ever seen, in the worst sort of way. University of Iowa pennants adorn the walls, various football games are playing on the TVs, and all around them students are drinking on obviously fake IDs while they try to decide who to go home with for the night. All in all, it's the type of place Billy's tried to avoid while he's been in America.
"Just wait till you hear him, Billy," Dom says, taking a sip from his beer bottle. "A friend of mine sent me a tape and, well, the band's absolute crap. But he's fantastic. He's just what we're looking for." Billy frowns and watches the sweat from the bottle drip down over Dom's knuckles.
"An American, Dom? Doesn't that take away our foreign charm?" He's going to say more, but there's a stirring in the crowd, and Dom's turning his head to the small wooden platform near the back of the room that's serving as a stage. The boy who peeks his head out of the door in the back to check out the crowd has wild dark hair that's styled so that it sticks up in the front and wide, intense blue eyes. He's wearing some sort of worn out, too tight band t-shirt, and a pair of dark and ragged jeans. Billy rolls his eyes. "You've got to be fucking kidding me, Dom," he says, but Dom just shoots him a glare as the boy walks up to the microphone, followed by the rest of his band. "He looks like he's in high school."
"Well he's not," Dom snaps. "He's nineteen." Billy snorts.
"Like that's a whole lot better." Dom drops a hand onto Billy's knee underneath the small table, and Billy can feel it, cold and clammy through his jeans. He forgets whatever he was going to say next.
"Just listen to him, OK, Bill? Just listen to his voice." The boy coughs into the microphone to get the crowds attention, then flashes them a gap toothed smile when they go silent.
"Hi!" he says, pushing a hand through his carefully styled hair. "We're Absolute Chaos!" Billy snorts again, and this time Dom grins back at him. "Are you guys ready to have a good time?" The already drunk crowd screams its approval a little too enthusiastically, and the boy nods like it actually matters. "OK then!"
They launch into a medley of power cords and trite lyrics that are obviously meant to be heartfelt and angst ridden. The boy sings about girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, schoolwork, dead end jobs, and the meaning of life, all in a high, clear voice that rises above the jarring noise of the badly played guitars and drums. The entire time he keeps those eyes locked on the crowd, except for when he hits a particularly emotional part of the song and feels the need to close them.
"Christ, he's pretty," Dom says, watching intently. "People'll go crazy for him." Billy tastes something bitter in the back of his throat.
"We already have Orli," he says, frowning at the slightly sour note in his voice "He's more than pretty enough." Dom tutts.
"Orli's a drummer, it's an entirely different dynamic." Billy of course doesn't understand this, but he doesn't tell Dom that. Instead he frowns again and wishes Dom would take the time to look away from the boy when he's talking to him. "Isn't he perfect, Bill?" Dom asks, and Billy wants to say, no, he's nothing special, let's go home.
But all he can think of is piling into his piece of crap car for the fifteen hour drive from New York and listening to Dom chatter happily the whole way, Oh, this is just what we need, he'll be perfect for us, not like Josh, Josh was a bastard and his voice was shite anyway, his voice'll sound perfect with yours and Orli will love him, and we'll finally get somewhere... All he can see is Dom falling asleep in the car seat with a hopeful smile on his face.
Dom turns away from the boy and grins hugely at him. "Isn't he perfect?" he asks again. Billy sighs.
"What's his name, then?" Dominic's smile is blinding, and Billy can't stop himself from smiling back.
"Elijah." The band finishes their set and thanks the crowd, then heads for the bar. Dom stands up, makes his best rock-star face, and holds a hand out invitingly to Billy, the same way he did years ago in a dingy little English pub. "C'mon, let's go meet him."
*
Elijah's surrounded by admiring fans by the time Billy and Dom manage to push their way through the crowd - or at least, Billy thinks they're admiring fans, until he realizes they're all saying things like "Have you done the Physics homework yet?" and "Man, Professor Walsh is a bitch this year!" Elijah's leaning against the bar, beer in one hand and cigarette in the other, laughing while some girl tells him about her terrible dorm room. It takes a while for her to finish her story and move on to another group. When she finally leaves, Dom inches his way up to Elijah and sticks out his hand, not checking to see if Billy's following.
"Hi," he says, giving Elijah what Billy knows he thinks is his most charming grin, and maybe it is, because Elijah immediately grins back.
"Hi!" he answers, dropping his unfinished cigarette into his beer so that he can shake Dom's hand. "Were you here for the show?"
Dom nods enthusiastically, not letting go of Elijah's hand. "Yeah, man, you're great. You're fantastic, you know that?" The group nearby moves, jostling Elijah and making him spill his drink. He sets his beer down on the bar, laughing good-naturedly and pulling the sticky fabric of his beer-soaked t-shirt away from his skin.
"This place is kind of a madhouse on Saturday nights," he explains apologetically. "Thanks man, thanks a lot. You're British? That's so cool! Are you just over here visiting?" Billy smirks from his place behind Dom. As if people would cross an ocean just to come to Iowa.
"Actually, no," Dom answers, motioning at Billy to come forward. Me, and my mate Billy here, and Orlando, he's back in New York, we're in a band. That's why we came to see you, actually." Elijah nods at Billy, acknowledging him, then turns back to Dom.
"You came to see me?" he asks, lighting another cigarette.
"Yeah, my friend, Donna, I think you know her, yeah? She sent me a tape of you guys, cause she knows we're looking for a lead singer, and she thought you'd be perfect for us. And you are, you really are - wait till you hear Billy sing, the two of you are going to sound amazing together." Elijah takes a long drag from his cigarette.
"Wait, so you're saying you want me to join your band?" Dom nods, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"You're exactly what we've been looking for. And Donna said you might be willing..." Elijah frowns.
"Well, yeah, our band might be breaking up pretty soon, the drummer needs to concentrate on his MCATs..." Dom claps Elijah on the shoulder enthusiastically.
"That's perfect, then, isn't it! You're looking for a band to join, we're looking for a singer. It all works out." Elijah frowns again and takes a sip of his beer, then grimaces and coughs as he remembers that there's a cigarette in it. Dom pats him sympathetically on the back.
"Would I have to leave school?" he asks when he's recovered. Back by the door, a group of people yell out his name and wave to him as they leave. He waves back with a smile.
"Well, yeah," Dom admits, still patting Elijah's back. "You'd have to come to New York, actually. But we'd come back and get you, so you wouldn't have to worry about transport, and you could live with us, our apartment's small but that way you wouldn't really have to worry about having a place to live or anything, and there's loads of schools in New York if you want to finish getting your degree..." Billy shoots him a glare, but Dom ignores it, intent on convincing Elijah that joining the band is a good idea. "So?" he asks hopefully. "What d'you say?" Elijah bites at his fingernails, smooths his hands through his hair, and taps his foot on the ground a few times before answering.
"I'll have to ask my mom."
*
The car has made a weird, whistling noise ever since Dom hit a deer with it a few months ago. The mechanic says that the window got warped somehow, and so it doesn't seal perfectly anymore, and no, he can't fix it, they might as well buy a new car if it bothers them that much. Of course, they don't have the money for a new car, so they've learned to live with it, and Billy's banned Dom from ever driving again, for the safety of both cars and animals. It usually drives Billy crazy, but right now he's grateful for it, because he can concentrate on the sound instead of on how much he wants to wring Dom's neck.
"So, I think everything's going to be great, don't you Billy?" Dom asks, rummaging in the glove compartment for a tape to put on. Billy watches the huge green "You are now leaving Iowa!" sign fly by as he answers.
"No, Dom, I don't. He still lives with his mom! Are you going to be a professional babysitter from now on? Are you going to take care of him, and show him how to do his laundry, and rub his fucking back when he gets homesick?"
"C'mon, Bill," Dom says, popping in a Beatles tape and letting the music drown the whistling out. "We were both living on our own by the time we were nineteen, and we were fine." Billy bangs the heel of his hand against the steering wheel angrily.
"I think both of us are very different from Elijah," he bites out, keeping his eyes trained on the road. "And you invited him to live in our apartment! There's barely room for the two of us as it is! How are we supposed to fit a teenage boy and all his junk in there?"
"We'll find a way. I couldn't very well ask him to move to New York without any place to live, could I?" Billy sighs.
"Well, maybe we shouldn't have asked him. This is crazy! Don't you think it's all happening a little fast, asking this boy we barely even know to come live with us and join our band, all on the basis of hearing him sing once?"
"Crazier than following some bloke you barely know across the Atlantic?" Dom asks with a smile, and Billy softens.
"I suppose not." he says.
"Not everything has to be planned, Bill. Sometimes things just work out, you know?" Billy smiles.
"All right. I hope you're right about this."
"I am." Dom reaches across and wraps a piece of Billy's hair around his finger. "You're getting rock-star hair, y'know." Billy nods, trying to ignore how close Dom's hand is to his face.
"Aye, it could use a cut." Dom shakes his head.
"No, leave it long. I like it like this." He smiles and lets go, brushing his hand against Billy's on the gear shift before settling back into his seat. "Besides, it hides your receding hairline," he adds with a laugh. Billy pokes him underneath his ribs, and smiles with satisfaction when Dom yelps in pain.
"Leave my hair alone, ya wanker," he commands, laughing as Dom pretends to sulk. Within a few minutes, Dom's fallen asleep, leaving Billy to drive in silence.
When they're just outside New York, Dom's cell phone begins to trill the first strains of "Baby, One More Time". Billy groans.
"You've got to change that fucking ring, Dom. It's driving me nutters." Dom smirks and checks the caller id.
"It's him!" he announces excitedly, and Billy grimaces and pushes his foot down on the gas pedal. Dominic presses the phone to his ear and holds a murmured conversation that Billy can't quite hear over the roar of the traffic outside. When Dom flips the phone closed, he's beaming, and Billy knows immediately that they'll be driving back to Iowa soon to get Elijah.
"His mum said yes!" Dom yells, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly. "We have a band now, Bill! We have a band! I told him we'd go back to get him in a week, that's OK, right?" Billy frowns.
"Of course it's OK, it's only a 30 hour drive both ways," he answers sarcastically, but Dom's too excited to pay attention.
"Sean said that if we got our act together, he'd be able to get us real gigs. And now we have our act together! Well, we will after a few practices, anyway."
Billy tunes Dom's rambling out and focuses on the New York skyline that's come in to view, watches as the buildings loom closer and closer.
"It's going to be perfect, Billy," Dom says, and Billy grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white.
Author:
trakkiePairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Band AU. Billy and Dom go looking for a new member.
"Are you out of your fucking mind, Dom?" They've driven hours to get to this Iowa City bar, and it's one of the most stereotypical college bars that Billy's ever seen, in the worst sort of way. University of Iowa pennants adorn the walls, various football games are playing on the TVs, and all around them students are drinking on obviously fake IDs while they try to decide who to go home with for the night. All in all, it's the type of place Billy's tried to avoid while he's been in America.
"Just wait till you hear him, Billy," Dom says, taking a sip from his beer bottle. "A friend of mine sent me a tape and, well, the band's absolute crap. But he's fantastic. He's just what we're looking for." Billy frowns and watches the sweat from the bottle drip down over Dom's knuckles.
"An American, Dom? Doesn't that take away our foreign charm?" He's going to say more, but there's a stirring in the crowd, and Dom's turning his head to the small wooden platform near the back of the room that's serving as a stage. The boy who peeks his head out of the door in the back to check out the crowd has wild dark hair that's styled so that it sticks up in the front and wide, intense blue eyes. He's wearing some sort of worn out, too tight band t-shirt, and a pair of dark and ragged jeans. Billy rolls his eyes. "You've got to be fucking kidding me, Dom," he says, but Dom just shoots him a glare as the boy walks up to the microphone, followed by the rest of his band. "He looks like he's in high school."
"Well he's not," Dom snaps. "He's nineteen." Billy snorts.
"Like that's a whole lot better." Dom drops a hand onto Billy's knee underneath the small table, and Billy can feel it, cold and clammy through his jeans. He forgets whatever he was going to say next.
"Just listen to him, OK, Bill? Just listen to his voice." The boy coughs into the microphone to get the crowds attention, then flashes them a gap toothed smile when they go silent.
"Hi!" he says, pushing a hand through his carefully styled hair. "We're Absolute Chaos!" Billy snorts again, and this time Dom grins back at him. "Are you guys ready to have a good time?" The already drunk crowd screams its approval a little too enthusiastically, and the boy nods like it actually matters. "OK then!"
They launch into a medley of power cords and trite lyrics that are obviously meant to be heartfelt and angst ridden. The boy sings about girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, schoolwork, dead end jobs, and the meaning of life, all in a high, clear voice that rises above the jarring noise of the badly played guitars and drums. The entire time he keeps those eyes locked on the crowd, except for when he hits a particularly emotional part of the song and feels the need to close them.
"Christ, he's pretty," Dom says, watching intently. "People'll go crazy for him." Billy tastes something bitter in the back of his throat.
"We already have Orli," he says, frowning at the slightly sour note in his voice "He's more than pretty enough." Dom tutts.
"Orli's a drummer, it's an entirely different dynamic." Billy of course doesn't understand this, but he doesn't tell Dom that. Instead he frowns again and wishes Dom would take the time to look away from the boy when he's talking to him. "Isn't he perfect, Bill?" Dom asks, and Billy wants to say, no, he's nothing special, let's go home.
But all he can think of is piling into his piece of crap car for the fifteen hour drive from New York and listening to Dom chatter happily the whole way, Oh, this is just what we need, he'll be perfect for us, not like Josh, Josh was a bastard and his voice was shite anyway, his voice'll sound perfect with yours and Orli will love him, and we'll finally get somewhere... All he can see is Dom falling asleep in the car seat with a hopeful smile on his face.
Dom turns away from the boy and grins hugely at him. "Isn't he perfect?" he asks again. Billy sighs.
"What's his name, then?" Dominic's smile is blinding, and Billy can't stop himself from smiling back.
"Elijah." The band finishes their set and thanks the crowd, then heads for the bar. Dom stands up, makes his best rock-star face, and holds a hand out invitingly to Billy, the same way he did years ago in a dingy little English pub. "C'mon, let's go meet him."
*
Elijah's surrounded by admiring fans by the time Billy and Dom manage to push their way through the crowd - or at least, Billy thinks they're admiring fans, until he realizes they're all saying things like "Have you done the Physics homework yet?" and "Man, Professor Walsh is a bitch this year!" Elijah's leaning against the bar, beer in one hand and cigarette in the other, laughing while some girl tells him about her terrible dorm room. It takes a while for her to finish her story and move on to another group. When she finally leaves, Dom inches his way up to Elijah and sticks out his hand, not checking to see if Billy's following.
"Hi," he says, giving Elijah what Billy knows he thinks is his most charming grin, and maybe it is, because Elijah immediately grins back.
"Hi!" he answers, dropping his unfinished cigarette into his beer so that he can shake Dom's hand. "Were you here for the show?"
Dom nods enthusiastically, not letting go of Elijah's hand. "Yeah, man, you're great. You're fantastic, you know that?" The group nearby moves, jostling Elijah and making him spill his drink. He sets his beer down on the bar, laughing good-naturedly and pulling the sticky fabric of his beer-soaked t-shirt away from his skin.
"This place is kind of a madhouse on Saturday nights," he explains apologetically. "Thanks man, thanks a lot. You're British? That's so cool! Are you just over here visiting?" Billy smirks from his place behind Dom. As if people would cross an ocean just to come to Iowa.
"Actually, no," Dom answers, motioning at Billy to come forward. Me, and my mate Billy here, and Orlando, he's back in New York, we're in a band. That's why we came to see you, actually." Elijah nods at Billy, acknowledging him, then turns back to Dom.
"You came to see me?" he asks, lighting another cigarette.
"Yeah, my friend, Donna, I think you know her, yeah? She sent me a tape of you guys, cause she knows we're looking for a lead singer, and she thought you'd be perfect for us. And you are, you really are - wait till you hear Billy sing, the two of you are going to sound amazing together." Elijah takes a long drag from his cigarette.
"Wait, so you're saying you want me to join your band?" Dom nods, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"You're exactly what we've been looking for. And Donna said you might be willing..." Elijah frowns.
"Well, yeah, our band might be breaking up pretty soon, the drummer needs to concentrate on his MCATs..." Dom claps Elijah on the shoulder enthusiastically.
"That's perfect, then, isn't it! You're looking for a band to join, we're looking for a singer. It all works out." Elijah frowns again and takes a sip of his beer, then grimaces and coughs as he remembers that there's a cigarette in it. Dom pats him sympathetically on the back.
"Would I have to leave school?" he asks when he's recovered. Back by the door, a group of people yell out his name and wave to him as they leave. He waves back with a smile.
"Well, yeah," Dom admits, still patting Elijah's back. "You'd have to come to New York, actually. But we'd come back and get you, so you wouldn't have to worry about transport, and you could live with us, our apartment's small but that way you wouldn't really have to worry about having a place to live or anything, and there's loads of schools in New York if you want to finish getting your degree..." Billy shoots him a glare, but Dom ignores it, intent on convincing Elijah that joining the band is a good idea. "So?" he asks hopefully. "What d'you say?" Elijah bites at his fingernails, smooths his hands through his hair, and taps his foot on the ground a few times before answering.
"I'll have to ask my mom."
*
The car has made a weird, whistling noise ever since Dom hit a deer with it a few months ago. The mechanic says that the window got warped somehow, and so it doesn't seal perfectly anymore, and no, he can't fix it, they might as well buy a new car if it bothers them that much. Of course, they don't have the money for a new car, so they've learned to live with it, and Billy's banned Dom from ever driving again, for the safety of both cars and animals. It usually drives Billy crazy, but right now he's grateful for it, because he can concentrate on the sound instead of on how much he wants to wring Dom's neck.
"So, I think everything's going to be great, don't you Billy?" Dom asks, rummaging in the glove compartment for a tape to put on. Billy watches the huge green "You are now leaving Iowa!" sign fly by as he answers.
"No, Dom, I don't. He still lives with his mom! Are you going to be a professional babysitter from now on? Are you going to take care of him, and show him how to do his laundry, and rub his fucking back when he gets homesick?"
"C'mon, Bill," Dom says, popping in a Beatles tape and letting the music drown the whistling out. "We were both living on our own by the time we were nineteen, and we were fine." Billy bangs the heel of his hand against the steering wheel angrily.
"I think both of us are very different from Elijah," he bites out, keeping his eyes trained on the road. "And you invited him to live in our apartment! There's barely room for the two of us as it is! How are we supposed to fit a teenage boy and all his junk in there?"
"We'll find a way. I couldn't very well ask him to move to New York without any place to live, could I?" Billy sighs.
"Well, maybe we shouldn't have asked him. This is crazy! Don't you think it's all happening a little fast, asking this boy we barely even know to come live with us and join our band, all on the basis of hearing him sing once?"
"Crazier than following some bloke you barely know across the Atlantic?" Dom asks with a smile, and Billy softens.
"I suppose not." he says.
"Not everything has to be planned, Bill. Sometimes things just work out, you know?" Billy smiles.
"All right. I hope you're right about this."
"I am." Dom reaches across and wraps a piece of Billy's hair around his finger. "You're getting rock-star hair, y'know." Billy nods, trying to ignore how close Dom's hand is to his face.
"Aye, it could use a cut." Dom shakes his head.
"No, leave it long. I like it like this." He smiles and lets go, brushing his hand against Billy's on the gear shift before settling back into his seat. "Besides, it hides your receding hairline," he adds with a laugh. Billy pokes him underneath his ribs, and smiles with satisfaction when Dom yelps in pain.
"Leave my hair alone, ya wanker," he commands, laughing as Dom pretends to sulk. Within a few minutes, Dom's fallen asleep, leaving Billy to drive in silence.
When they're just outside New York, Dom's cell phone begins to trill the first strains of "Baby, One More Time". Billy groans.
"You've got to change that fucking ring, Dom. It's driving me nutters." Dom smirks and checks the caller id.
"It's him!" he announces excitedly, and Billy grimaces and pushes his foot down on the gas pedal. Dominic presses the phone to his ear and holds a murmured conversation that Billy can't quite hear over the roar of the traffic outside. When Dom flips the phone closed, he's beaming, and Billy knows immediately that they'll be driving back to Iowa soon to get Elijah.
"His mum said yes!" Dom yells, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly. "We have a band now, Bill! We have a band! I told him we'd go back to get him in a week, that's OK, right?" Billy frowns.
"Of course it's OK, it's only a 30 hour drive both ways," he answers sarcastically, but Dom's too excited to pay attention.
"Sean said that if we got our act together, he'd be able to get us real gigs. And now we have our act together! Well, we will after a few practices, anyway."
Billy tunes Dom's rambling out and focuses on the New York skyline that's come in to view, watches as the buildings loom closer and closer.
"It's going to be perfect, Billy," Dom says, and Billy grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white.
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