(no subject)

[my-tea-tray.livejournal.com]

Title: Untitled II [that doesn't mean there is a pre-thing floating around, it just means it's my second untitled thing]
Author: my_tea_tray
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Feedback: Would love some!
Summary: 368 words. A shortish thing, mainly angst, that popped into my head.
Disclaimer: Insert some witty comment about this being made-up here.


Through chipped orange sunglasses, Dom watches Billy leave. Those black shoes, those tufts of fair brown hair, that beige leather jacket zipped up around his neck. Dom can see orange-tinged Billy taking step after step down the stone pavement, past the uncollected newspaper. His mouth creaks open.

Wait.

The word hovers just behind his parched lips, waiting to spill out down the sidewalk towards the hunched figure.

Dom’s brain spins with possible pleas, things he would say if he could get something other than hot, dry breath to leak out of his mouth. His stomach lurches. Dom thinks if Billy turned around, he would see his reflection in the orange glasses. Neither of them would like that. They’d want to see each other’s eyes. He slides the glasses down his nose.

His brain is screaming at him now, to say anything, to do anything, but Dom is frozen in his doorway, white knuckles pressed against the wooden frame he used to share with Billy. The words so clear in his brain minutes earlier are now jumbled in his mouth.

The hand holding his glasses squeezes a tangerine lens out. It lands on top of a final cardboard box, one Billy evidently forgot, because he’s unlocking his car now on the driver’s side.

“Wait.”

And before he can think, Dom has said it and is running down the sidewalk to the car and the man. His brain congratulates him.

“Wait,” he says, louder. Billy’s head turns. Dom looks down at the box, realizing they’re standing inches apart. “You forgot this.” He holds out the box with both hands.

“I did. Thanks.” Billy’s voice is nearly inaudible as he reaches for the box, and Dom can’t help wondering if Billy means he forgot or he waited.

He tosses the box into the car, looking not into Dom’s eyes but just past them, into his left temple maybe. Dom moves his head to try and catch Billy’s gaze, but Billy has turned away, and he’s getting into his car, and he’s driving down the street, and he’s turned the corner, except Dom can’t see that part because his head is in his hands now, reeling with things he should have said.