merry monaboyd day to all...
May. 8th, 2009 09:31 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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monaboyd_month...and to all a good night!
probity: adherence to the highest principles and ideals; uprightness
Dominic understood. He could never give Billy the kind of life he truly wanted, at least not without some modicum of secrecy and, yes, guilt. Billy might lose some of his friends--not in a big, fantastic blow-out kind of way, and not completely. They'd just kind of go, slowly but surely, without a word. And Billy could handle that. But if he could avoid it, if he had the choice, then why not take the easier way out? Why not actually have a child with someone you love instead of through them or around them? If you have the choice, why not skip out on the ignorance and the hatred and the frustration and the pain?
There was no choice at all, when it came down to it. Dominic understood.
At least he did until Billy kissed him. The kiss itself was not the problem, no. But did he have to do it with his pregnant almost-wife brewing a pot of coffee in the next room?
dilatory: using cautious slow strategy to wear down opposition; wasting time
Dominic is going to fucking explode.
It's been months since they've seen each other. Months. Months of a half-empty bed, marathon phone calls, and vicious wanks (sometimes all at the same time). The pages of Dominic's journal have gone crackly, nearly black, and illegible with all the crap he's purged onto them. Most of the words don't refer to Billy directly, but Billy's been the remedy for them, the beacon hovering over Dom's shoulder promising to save him from himself.
Months of a half-empty universe, more like.
Dominic could sob, he's so grateful to finally have the man he loves once again filling all that space, that space he constantly glared at trying to will Billy into being there. He'd been taken aback at first, by how much Billy'd physically changed: the longish, wavy, wheat-colored hair, the shoulders he covets twice the breadth he's used to. After a day of surfing, though... a full day of watching Billy stand astride that board, the slick black neoprene embracing every new line (Dom couldn't blame it, really), shaking salt water from his hair as he emerged, spluttering, eyelashes stuck together and glittering, fucking glinting in the sun... Dominic has to revise his assessment of Billy's physique from changed to improved.
He'd been hard all afternoon.
At the end of the day, Billy'd seemed to just know, as usual, turning his back to Dominic as he pulled his zipper-string. Dominic would have shot an insult at him--or tackled him to the beach--but he'd been too full of sand and beer and want to do anything but enjoy the view. He'd shockingly resisted the urge to palm himself through his board shorts as he watched droplets of water chase each other down Billy's spine and the sun turn the hair on his forearms to gold. That he managed to not straddle Billy in the driver's seat on the way home or on the front porch or in the foyer was a miracle.
Yes, Dominic is already past worked up at this point. He could seriously come right now, just letting his eyes rove over that rippling expanse, still smelling slightly of sunscreen, Billy's shoulder muscles shifting and rolling as he glides forward to lick a nipple. Rather, he wishes he could come from just this, because Billy's being a sadistic fucking tease, as usual, fitting his mouth to every part of Dominic except where he needs it most. Dominic can't help but tremble and squirm, pushing at the crisp white sheets with his feet so they make maddening swishing sounds. He tugs at the roots of Billy's hair--mustn't pull, Billy does not go for that--and lets out a pathetic little pant-moan when Billy shifts him down the mattress by his hips.
Just when he thinks yes finally yes there Billy please yes yes, Billy stops short just below his navel, purses his lips and sucks, in a pale imitation of what he keeps fucking delaying. Dominic moans you fucking teasing piece of, and Billy smiles and flattens his tongue to Dom's skin, the sight of that pushing a button inside Dom that causes the words to keep spilling: fuck, Billy, please, do it, please, now, i need it, please. And this is not performance begging--Dominic has done that. This is actual, genuine begging, and Dominic can hear how shameless and slutty it sounds, but he couldn't give less of a fuck because finally, finally he's gasping and arching his back like a crescent moon, and there's no need for air or anything because Billy, Billy, Billy... that's perfect.
probity: adherence to the highest principles and ideals; uprightness
Dominic understood. He could never give Billy the kind of life he truly wanted, at least not without some modicum of secrecy and, yes, guilt. Billy might lose some of his friends--not in a big, fantastic blow-out kind of way, and not completely. They'd just kind of go, slowly but surely, without a word. And Billy could handle that. But if he could avoid it, if he had the choice, then why not take the easier way out? Why not actually have a child with someone you love instead of through them or around them? If you have the choice, why not skip out on the ignorance and the hatred and the frustration and the pain?
There was no choice at all, when it came down to it. Dominic understood.
At least he did until Billy kissed him. The kiss itself was not the problem, no. But did he have to do it with his pregnant almost-wife brewing a pot of coffee in the next room?
dilatory: using cautious slow strategy to wear down opposition; wasting time
Dominic is going to fucking explode.
It's been months since they've seen each other. Months. Months of a half-empty bed, marathon phone calls, and vicious wanks (sometimes all at the same time). The pages of Dominic's journal have gone crackly, nearly black, and illegible with all the crap he's purged onto them. Most of the words don't refer to Billy directly, but Billy's been the remedy for them, the beacon hovering over Dom's shoulder promising to save him from himself.
Months of a half-empty universe, more like.
Dominic could sob, he's so grateful to finally have the man he loves once again filling all that space, that space he constantly glared at trying to will Billy into being there. He'd been taken aback at first, by how much Billy'd physically changed: the longish, wavy, wheat-colored hair, the shoulders he covets twice the breadth he's used to. After a day of surfing, though... a full day of watching Billy stand astride that board, the slick black neoprene embracing every new line (Dom couldn't blame it, really), shaking salt water from his hair as he emerged, spluttering, eyelashes stuck together and glittering, fucking glinting in the sun... Dominic has to revise his assessment of Billy's physique from changed to improved.
He'd been hard all afternoon.
At the end of the day, Billy'd seemed to just know, as usual, turning his back to Dominic as he pulled his zipper-string. Dominic would have shot an insult at him--or tackled him to the beach--but he'd been too full of sand and beer and want to do anything but enjoy the view. He'd shockingly resisted the urge to palm himself through his board shorts as he watched droplets of water chase each other down Billy's spine and the sun turn the hair on his forearms to gold. That he managed to not straddle Billy in the driver's seat on the way home or on the front porch or in the foyer was a miracle.
Yes, Dominic is already past worked up at this point. He could seriously come right now, just letting his eyes rove over that rippling expanse, still smelling slightly of sunscreen, Billy's shoulder muscles shifting and rolling as he glides forward to lick a nipple. Rather, he wishes he could come from just this, because Billy's being a sadistic fucking tease, as usual, fitting his mouth to every part of Dominic except where he needs it most. Dominic can't help but tremble and squirm, pushing at the crisp white sheets with his feet so they make maddening swishing sounds. He tugs at the roots of Billy's hair--mustn't pull, Billy does not go for that--and lets out a pathetic little pant-moan when Billy shifts him down the mattress by his hips.
Just when he thinks yes finally yes there Billy please yes yes, Billy stops short just below his navel, purses his lips and sucks, in a pale imitation of what he keeps fucking delaying. Dominic moans you fucking teasing piece of, and Billy smiles and flattens his tongue to Dom's skin, the sight of that pushing a button inside Dom that causes the words to keep spilling: fuck, Billy, please, do it, please, now, i need it, please. And this is not performance begging--Dominic has done that. This is actual, genuine begging, and Dominic can hear how shameless and slutty it sounds, but he couldn't give less of a fuck because finally, finally he's gasping and arching his back like a crescent moon, and there's no need for air or anything because Billy, Billy, Billy... that's perfect.
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Date: 2009-05-09 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-09 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-09 09:39 am (UTC)Wow! Just wow!
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Date: 2009-05-09 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 02:57 am (UTC)This was great. And Dom begging, for real, this time, not performance-begging :).
no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 03:48 am (UTC)And when all else fails, make Dom beg.
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Date: 2009-05-10 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 04:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-12 04:12 pm (UTC)I really enjoyed all of your stories :)
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Date: 2009-05-12 04:50 pm (UTC)*loves your icon* Heehee.
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Date: 2009-05-22 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-23 03:19 am (UTC)You just made my heart burst. I'm so grateful to have found this fandom. It's made my life so much richer. And you are one of the many who've been so hospitable. THANK YOU.
*draws 24580 hearts*
no subject
Date: 2009-06-01 05:03 pm (UTC)A killer line in a killer ficlet, yes!
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Date: 2009-06-02 12:19 pm (UTC)