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monaboyd Feb. 15th, 2005 04:30 pm)
lavitanuova.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Feb. 15th, 2005 04:30 pm)Title: The Madness of Absinthe: Prologue
Author(s):![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lavitanuova and maverick0324
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge is the property of those to whom it belongs. Billy and Dom are their own creations, we can't claim them either. I also want to mention that immitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and I love howapp1e_pi and lord_alexander format their phone tig, so I decided to do the whole pictures-to-signify-POV thing. It isn't exactly identical, but close enough that I want to give credit!
"Let me be mad... mad with madness of Absinthe, the wildest most luxurious madness in the world."
- Marie Corelli
Billy wasn't a sultan or a prince. He wasn't royalty. The blood that flowed through his veins was the blood of a poor man, malnourished and half-starved. The blood of a man that worked for his supper when he had to, and went without when he could. He was a writer - a genius of his own kind, as far as that got him.
It didn't get him very far.
What it did get him, however, was into the Moulin Rouge nightly to watch the performances there. Once in a while, it even got him a free drink, if Aicha happened to be working the tables. She'd taken a liking to him right off, and he knew that she had a bit of a fix on him, but he didn't mind. She knew which way his preferences leaned, and only poked gentle fun at the way he couldn't ever seem to take his eyes off of Dominic when Dominic was on the stage.
He couldn't sing, really, that one, but he did well enough, and when it came down to it, everyone knew that singing wasn't what he did for his supper. What Dominic did for his supper involved a bed of silk and velvet and his knees on the floor. It involved that pretty mouth dropped open wide, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. It involved pretty, heated words that only reached as far inside as it took for the breath to utter them. Dominic didn't have to love the people that he fucked, as long as they loved him - and they did. Loved him with their hearts and cocks and wallets, those that could afford it.
Billy couldn't afford it, but it didn't stop him from loving Dominic.
They both knew it. They'd become mates, in a peculiar sort of way. Dominic wanted to be an actor, he wanted to be famous, and he thought that one day Billy might make him famous. Billy's words on paper were the same as Dominic's whispered in an ear - pure magic. Rippling, shimmering magic with the power the devastate and recreate. They would gather together with their petty group of players and talk of shows that would never reach an audience, scribble notes of characters and backgrounds and history and how much they'd charge at the box office. Billy and Dominic were soul mates, Henri said, but they just laughed at him. Henri was a hopeless romantic. But Billy would turn the joke, would expound on it, and try to woo Dominic into a promise, attempts coated heavily with humour, as if he were trying to hide them. But Dominic saw through, and he would give Billy the gentlest of smiles and the softest shakes of his head.
And every afternoon at six, Dominic would leave. And every night at seven forty five, Billy would sweet talk Aicha into letting him into the show free of charge, and at eight on the dot, the spotlight would swivel and down would come Dominic, one creative entrance after another. He wore leather, most nights - leather vests and leather trousers, and he would dance for the men that came to see him, sing silly songs to heat their blood. And every night at nine, Dominic would go to the highest bidder and spend the night in a bed that wasn't Billy's.
Dominic hadn't been born into a happy family. In fact, as far as Dominic knew, he hadn't had a family at all (well he knew he had to have a mother and a father - but knowing you had one and having a family are entirely different things). But what Dominic did have was fame, or a certain level of infamy.
Ziddler took him in as a knobby - kneed little boy, using him as a doorman until Dominic grew into his looks and his sexuality to use him in other aspects of the Moulin Rouge. And Dominic grew to not only be good at what he did, but to love the spotlight it brought. Sure, the job had it's down sides, but what did that matter? Whatever one could do to get money and all. And Dominic prided himself at being able to get top price.
And so every night Dominic took the stage, hips gyrating and eyes outlined in kohl - all primed to get all the boys hot and heavy and panting. And every night Dominic looked out on the audience and could see Billy sitting in the far back, watching him with burning eyes. And every night Dominic performed just for him - every movement screaming of wanting him and every night Dominic let the highest bidder lead his body to Dominic’s room while his heart stayed with the man with green eyes.
Dominic knew that Billy cared for him. Anything beyond that - Dominic couldn't even fathom - and Billy had, time and again, shown this to Dominic. And time and again Dominic had either ignored the sentiments entirely, or would shake his head softly and leave - it didn't do to gather these kinds of thoughts and feelings. Emotions didn't pay and Billy couldn't afford Dominic.
The men that could afford Dominic, often older men that had little wives at home - oblivious to where their husbands went at night - who wanted a wild young thing to suck them off and even one to fuck. And Dominic provided well. He had learned, and learned well, how to suck a cock well and how to keep a man from coming to soon as well as how to make him come quickly. And each night after the paying man had taken what he wanted (whether it was Dominic’s mouth or arse), Dominic crawled into his bed of silks and velvets and fell asleep - images of Billy burned into his mind.
Author(s):
lavitanuova and maverick0324Rating: R
Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge is the property of those to whom it belongs. Billy and Dom are their own creations, we can't claim them either. I also want to mention that immitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and I love how
app1e_pi and lord_alexander format their phone tig, so I decided to do the whole pictures-to-signify-POV thing. It isn't exactly identical, but close enough that I want to give credit!- Marie Corelli
Billy wasn't a sultan or a prince. He wasn't royalty. The blood that flowed through his veins was the blood of a poor man, malnourished and half-starved. The blood of a man that worked for his supper when he had to, and went without when he could. He was a writer - a genius of his own kind, as far as that got him.
It didn't get him very far.
What it did get him, however, was into the Moulin Rouge nightly to watch the performances there. Once in a while, it even got him a free drink, if Aicha happened to be working the tables. She'd taken a liking to him right off, and he knew that she had a bit of a fix on him, but he didn't mind. She knew which way his preferences leaned, and only poked gentle fun at the way he couldn't ever seem to take his eyes off of Dominic when Dominic was on the stage.
He couldn't sing, really, that one, but he did well enough, and when it came down to it, everyone knew that singing wasn't what he did for his supper. What Dominic did for his supper involved a bed of silk and velvet and his knees on the floor. It involved that pretty mouth dropped open wide, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. It involved pretty, heated words that only reached as far inside as it took for the breath to utter them. Dominic didn't have to love the people that he fucked, as long as they loved him - and they did. Loved him with their hearts and cocks and wallets, those that could afford it.
Billy couldn't afford it, but it didn't stop him from loving Dominic.
They both knew it. They'd become mates, in a peculiar sort of way. Dominic wanted to be an actor, he wanted to be famous, and he thought that one day Billy might make him famous. Billy's words on paper were the same as Dominic's whispered in an ear - pure magic. Rippling, shimmering magic with the power the devastate and recreate. They would gather together with their petty group of players and talk of shows that would never reach an audience, scribble notes of characters and backgrounds and history and how much they'd charge at the box office. Billy and Dominic were soul mates, Henri said, but they just laughed at him. Henri was a hopeless romantic. But Billy would turn the joke, would expound on it, and try to woo Dominic into a promise, attempts coated heavily with humour, as if he were trying to hide them. But Dominic saw through, and he would give Billy the gentlest of smiles and the softest shakes of his head.
And every afternoon at six, Dominic would leave. And every night at seven forty five, Billy would sweet talk Aicha into letting him into the show free of charge, and at eight on the dot, the spotlight would swivel and down would come Dominic, one creative entrance after another. He wore leather, most nights - leather vests and leather trousers, and he would dance for the men that came to see him, sing silly songs to heat their blood. And every night at nine, Dominic would go to the highest bidder and spend the night in a bed that wasn't Billy's.
Dominic hadn't been born into a happy family. In fact, as far as Dominic knew, he hadn't had a family at all (well he knew he had to have a mother and a father - but knowing you had one and having a family are entirely different things). But what Dominic did have was fame, or a certain level of infamy.
Ziddler took him in as a knobby - kneed little boy, using him as a doorman until Dominic grew into his looks and his sexuality to use him in other aspects of the Moulin Rouge. And Dominic grew to not only be good at what he did, but to love the spotlight it brought. Sure, the job had it's down sides, but what did that matter? Whatever one could do to get money and all. And Dominic prided himself at being able to get top price.
And so every night Dominic took the stage, hips gyrating and eyes outlined in kohl - all primed to get all the boys hot and heavy and panting. And every night Dominic looked out on the audience and could see Billy sitting in the far back, watching him with burning eyes. And every night Dominic performed just for him - every movement screaming of wanting him and every night Dominic let the highest bidder lead his body to Dominic’s room while his heart stayed with the man with green eyes.
Dominic knew that Billy cared for him. Anything beyond that - Dominic couldn't even fathom - and Billy had, time and again, shown this to Dominic. And time and again Dominic had either ignored the sentiments entirely, or would shake his head softly and leave - it didn't do to gather these kinds of thoughts and feelings. Emotions didn't pay and Billy couldn't afford Dominic.
The men that could afford Dominic, often older men that had little wives at home - oblivious to where their husbands went at night - who wanted a wild young thing to suck them off and even one to fuck. And Dominic provided well. He had learned, and learned well, how to suck a cock well and how to keep a man from coming to soon as well as how to make him come quickly. And each night after the paying man had taken what he wanted (whether it was Dominic’s mouth or arse), Dominic crawled into his bed of silks and velvets and fell asleep - images of Billy burned into his mind.
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Thank God the green fairy still exsists and I legal in Canada.
A great start
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"And every night Dominic performed just for him - every movement screaming of wanting him and every night Dominic let the highest bidder lead his body to Dominic’s room while his heart stayed with the man with green eyes."
This is my favorite bit. Really looking forward to seeing more of this one, and I agree, I like the dual point of view as well. Now excuse me while I go and watch "Moulin Rouge" again...
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Woof. Sexy.
"Emotions didn't pay and Billy couldn't afford Dominic."
Hmmm. Nicely put.
"And every night at nine, Dominic would go to the highest bidder and spend the night in a bed that wasn't Billy's."
Poor Billy.
I like this. Can't wait to see what you do with it.
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