fic: Found Out About You
Jun. 25th, 2011 09:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
kiltsandlollies.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
monaboyd_monthTitle: Found Out About You
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kiltsandlollies and escribo
Pairing: bb/dm; implied im/dm
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8400~
Notes: Part of the Every Nerve Like a Firefly universe, but can be read as a stand-alone piece.
Summary: All last summer in case you don't recall / I was yours and you were mine; forget it all.
It's getting out of the wetsuits that Billy likes least about surfing. Peeling away the suit means leaving that state of calm and ease that's just begun to come over him out there in even the rougher waters and finding himself bared to the elements and real life again—at least as real as life here gets. It's just such a damn struggle sometimes, and while he keeps his petulance mostly to himself, even Dominic's noticed how long it takes Billy to get dressed again and taken him to teasing task about it.
That Dominic's not doing so now is both a relief and a concern to Billy. He peers at Dominic moving slowly on the other side of the small room they’ve rented at a dodgy motel close enough to the beach as not to matter, stripping off his suit as if he knows Billy's watching and he wants to make a good show of it. There's no doubt in either of their minds that Billy appreciates Dom's body, but it's rare he gets to take this long a look at it when they're not in bed.
"You alright?" Dominic asks over his shoulder, and Billy nods, working his own suit down past his waist.
"I hate this bit. And it's freezing in here. I'll manage, though," he laughs, not wanting to sound ungrateful for the day and afternoon they've spent out in the water and on the beach. "Just going to jump in the shower, get some heat, yeah?"
"Good plan," Dominic nods too, and steps inside the bathroom to start the water before he thinks twice and leans back outside the bathroom door. "You don't mind if we ... it'll be faster—?"
"No, no that's great." Billy plays at a leer, mostly to make Dom laugh. "I think I saw a film like that once."
Dominic pokes his tongue out from between his teeth. "I think I might have been in it. C'mon then; I want to get back out there."
When he disappears inside the bathroom again, Billy shoves harder at his wetsuit, leaving it in a to-be-regretted-later pile on the carpeting that might have been green once. By the time he's in the tiny shower Dominic's already soaked and slicked here and there with clouds of lather. His back is to Billy at first, and Billy touches one finger down Dominic's spine, trailing it through the soap. Dominic hums in pleasure and turns to face him, catching Billy's face for the quick, easy kind of kiss Billy tends to need from him before he can progress to anything more.
That more is a bit on Billy's mind today, and as his eyes move over Dominic's body in the shower Billy finds himself getting just hard enough that he starts thinking of something else, anything else to make it stop. Dominic doesn't notice, or at least doesn't say so, but when he turns his back again to rinse his face and hair Billy lets out a breath and looks at Dominic again, this time greedily.
"Here," Dominic says, over his shoulder again. "Switch, c'mon." As they shift under the stream of water, Dominic drags his hand around Billy's waist comfortably—again, with so much ease—and then caresses Billy's back with his hands. Billy feels the soap coursing down his body and stands in the spray letting the hot water beat down on him while Dominic's fingers work quick magic. He flattens his hands on the cracked tile for a moment, just enjoying it, and then twists slightly away, reaching for Dominic’s bottle of fancy shampoo and the fastest wash he's ever taken.
Dominic laughs, the sound echoing on the tile, and it's clear he thinks this is some kind of race, another game of many they play. Billy tries not to think at all, just scraping his hands through his hair and standing for one last rinse before he cuts the water off impatiently and turns to take Dominic's face in his hands for a kiss just one half-level higher and harder than the one before. Again Dominic hums as they pull away, sucking at Billy's lip gently, and Billy smiles as if he knows exactly what he's doing before he steps out of the shower and grabs one of the thin towels.
He's dry and half-dressed before he notices Dominic wandering the room a bit, not a stitch of fabric on him yet, shifting their possessions and shaking out Billy's wetsuit. Billy's hands stop on the buttons of his shirt and he raises his eyebrows.
"Leave it, Dom; we're not going back out in the morning. The waves'll be too rough, remember?"
"Doesn't mean you can't take decent care of your things," Dominic says absently, and Billy watches him take both their suits into the bathroom, for god knows what, really, and when Dominic returns, Billy pushes his hands out at his sides in the common are you satisfied now? gesture he'd learned mostly from Dominic himself.
"Much as I like you just as you are," Billy laughs, "you might want to put on some clothes before we go back out."
"You sure about that?" Dominic stops what he's doing to give Billy a leer of his own, one that apparently fails at its effect and earns him a cackle instead.
"Positive. I'll let you try your best to seduce me later, yeah?" Billy turns from Dominic and the smile falls from his face as he gathers his wallet and the key to the room. He has an idea as to how the evening is going to go--how it's gone lately--but then with Dominic, it was hard to tell. "Dinner first. What do you think about that restaurant we passed coming up this morning?"
"Fine."
Dominic's voice sounds distracted, and Billy turns to find him standing still naked in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door, inspecting the redness across his shoulders. For a moment Billy can only watch again, his frustration at Dominic taking his time vanished. He tries to ignore the marks low on Dominic's back that didn't come from surfing, the set of four thin, long bruises. He's seen them before, or ones similar, and his mind rejects the connection to Ian.
"I told you to keep your rashguard on," he scolds, but gently, his voice carrying more sympathy than irritation. Billy joins Dominic at the mirror and presses his fingers into Dominic's skin, watching as the red turns white with the pressure then back. Dominic grimaces but doesn't swat Billy's hand away, so Billy does it again. "Does it hurt?"
"No," Dominic says and Billy can see that Dominic assumes he means the burn, which likely stings rather hurts, and not the press of Billy's fingers. Dominic meets Billy's eyes in the mirror as Billy pushes again, digging in his fingernails this time in a sort of challenge to make Dominic admit that it does hurt, but then the desire is gone as soon as it comes, and Billy steps back. Dominic's shoulders drop a bit, and he nods. "I'll get some aloe while we're out."
"You're not going to get anything if you don't hurry." Billy moves away, then, and sits on the edge of one of the beds while he watches Dominic get dressed. The top three marks on Dominic's back are visible just over the waist of the jeans he pulls on, and Billy has a new urge now, to press his fingers to them, too. He won't let himself think of what might have caused them--or who--chalking them up to filming damage even though he knows exactly when they appeared, his mind an apparent catalog and calendar when it comes to Dominic, and to Dominic's body.
He tells himself he's not that interested in prodding Dominic for the moment, anyway; they've had a fantastic day out in the water, and Billy's feeling strong and pleasantly worn out the way only willing exercise can make him feel. He's in a decent mood, too, if distracted; he knows he'll feel more settled after dinner, and he wants Dominic to feel the same. While he waits Billy turns the room key over and over in his fingers, the clicking of the oversized key against the plastic key ring pulling Dominic out of his musing and leading him over to Billy's side, finally dressed in those worn jeans and a blue t-shirt, its logo too faded to read.
"Humid in here now," Billy says, jumping up and away from the bed and making for the door. Dominic palms his back pocket and turns his head back to the room, but Billy makes a dismissive noise and pulls at Dominic's shirt. "I've got it. You can pay for the room; it'll be sorted."
"How much do you think I'm going to eat?" Dominic laughs, but he steps out of the room without his wallet or anything else, sliding by Billy at the door. Billy catches up to him and passes him as they walk to the car, throwing suggestions for the evening over his shoulder, knowing Dominic's close behind. The drive back down to the restaurant is loud, with Dominic needling Billy gently about the state of the car and his driving over the sound of mixed tape of Travis and Divine Comedy, the sound fading in and out from overuse, and Billy returning fire verbally and eventually physically, shoving his fist against Dominic's shoulder at a stoplight and inhaling sharply when Dominic grimaces again.
"You alright?"
"Doesn't hurt," Dominic laughs, but Billy doesn't echo it.
"'s not what I asked, is it."
There's a moment's quiet, and then Dominic looks away and out the front window. "Light's gone green, Bill."
Billy presses down on the accelerator a little too hard, but only to clear them past the light and then edge the car quickly to the side of the road. Billy shoves the car in park and turns to Dominic with an expression Dominic's never seen before from him. It's not anger, not anything close; it's something that thrills Dominic a bit, something he wants to see more of.
"Are you even here, Dom?" Billy asks him, one arm leaning over the steering wheel while his other hand clenches white on the gearshift. "I've been talking to you half the day and it's been this kind of ... half-dead git talking back t'me. When you remember to."
"You're reaching," Dominic laughs, but he's inched back a little in the seat, shifting now as Billy watches the prickle of conscience fighting with Dominic's obvious desire to say something a lot more weighted. "And it's not like you're full of things to say lately, either. I was telling Ian—"
"Don't." It comes out fast and from between Billy's teeth. "I'm not interested."
"Kind of my point."
"I'll keep missing it, then." Billy pushes forward with it while the energy's still there. "Because it's us now, yeah? I'm having dinner with you, not you and ... everything else. Everyone else. It's us now." He doesn't have to elaborate, he knows; Dominic's cheeks are flushed now like he's been caught out, and whether it's genuine, Billy refuses to care.
"Just us," Dominic says, quiet again, and Billy nods.
"Good." Billy holds Dominic's stare for a long moment, then he throws on a smile that's almost steady. "I could murder a steak."
***
The detritus of more food than two humans should possibly be able to eat covers the table, and Dominic leans back in his bench, absently rubbing his stomach. The check has come and gone and still they linger.
"So, if we can't surf tomorrow, what're we going to do?" Dominic finally asks, just to break the silence, which has begun to feel less companionable again.
"Don't know. We'll find something," Billy answers, his voice noncommittal.
Dominic scratches at his chin, considering Billy. The back and forth is unsettling to Dominic even though he'd had three draws of a local brew that had made him feel relaxed and loose boned, and he's not sure anymore how to give Billy what he wants out of this night--he's not even sure what it is that he wants for himself, much less Billy.
"Or maybe we'll do nothing."
"There's that."
"Are you opposed--"
Dominic is interrupted by the waitress bringing back Billy's card and receipt, which he tucks inside his wallet then slides his wallet into his back pocket. Finished, he picks up his glass and drains it, rubs his wet hand on his thighs but Dominic is distracted by the sight of his throat as he drinks and swallows. Finally he meets Dominic's eyes, a smile just barely playing on his lips as if Billy knows exactly where Dominic’s thoughts have taken him. "Opposed to what?"
"Hmm?"
"You started to say something."
"Oh. I was thinking of going back down to the water."
"Tonight?"
"Yeah. Just for a bit." Dominic slowly spins his glass in the puddle of condensation, watching as the dregs of his drink sloshes around.
"You want to go alone?"
Dominic shakes his head no then lifts his glass to his lips and drinks. He scrunches his face in distaste, his beer gone lukewarm.
"There's an invitation if ever I saw one," Billy laughs at Dominic's expression. "You ready now? I don't think I can actually fit another drink in me."
"We could get a cab."
"I didn't say I was drunk." Billy raises his eyebrows and grins across the table. "D'you not trust me?"
"I'm thinking more production insurance." Dominic grins back at him, happy for the moment that the tension's eased. "Pete would leave our arses in jail overnight, I think. Teach us a lesson."
"You forget I'm never in trouble with Pete."
"That's right; you're perfect."
"Well, more punctual than perfect, but whatever works, yeah?"
Dominic nods. "I need a piss. Meet you out front?"
Billy shakes his head. "I'll come with. You might start staring at yourself in the mirror again, and we'll never get out of here."
Dominic blinks at this too direct hit, but then stands and walks quickly to the loo, Billy soft on his heels. Dominic knows from experience that Billy's smiling and nodding and waving as they go, making friends without even saying a word, making girls and boys alike in the place smile back winningly. There's a kind of injustice to it, this thing about Billy that Dominic's supposed to swallow blindly while Billy gets to turn on a dime and flare up in jealousy whenever Dominic so much as mentions Ian's name. It's not the same thing and he knows it, but that injustice is enough to make Dominic straighten up a little in front of the wall of urinals and meet Billy's eyes in the mirror.
They don't talk, because they don't have to. Billy leans against the back wall with his arms folded across his chest and his shoulders tensed even as the placid calm works its way back over his face. Dominic bites down on the urge to say or do something to unsettle Billy more, and he's saved from the desire by sudden tiredness and a more pressing need to be back by the water again as soon as possible. He breaks their stare down and zips up, turning back to Billy just as Billy smiles and reaches to muss his hair, clearly looking to break the tension again in the opposite direction.
In the car Dominic finds that Billy's telling the truth: he's not drunk, or at least he's acting remarkably sober, driving well and with certainty back in the direction of their motel. Dominic points out a detour to the beach and Billy takes it without question for once, humming with a restrained delight as the water appears before them, glittering slightly under the moon.
"'s nice," Billy says, leaning back in his seat after he turns off the motor. Dominic looks from Billy to the water and back again, clearly wondering why they're still sitting in the car when they could be out there, and then Billy smiles again, a little tightly. "We need to talk, Dom.”
“Nothing good ever comes from those words.”
“I know. I hate it, I hate this. I hate that we have to." Billy takes a deep breath and then sighs, opening his door. "Out there, though. 's nice."
Dominic mentally cringes at the suggestion of a talk that he knows will be about their relationship, or his and Ian's relationship--or some combination of it all. Ian never suggests they talk; he just accepts everything for what it is--not as indecision on Dominic's part, but confusion. Billy is not Ian, and Dominic knows this well. He keeps his face steady, though, smiling a bit into his nod as he reaches for his door eagerly.
They walk along in peace for several minutes, the moon high above them and the ocean quietly lapping at the shore. There will be a storm later tonight—Dominic can smell it on the air—but it's calm enough now, only high, thin clouds against the inky night. For a while, Dominic thinks maybe they won't have to talk. Maybe they'll just walk until the beach ends, silent but together and companionably so, but then Billy clears his throat and Dominic feels as if all the tension they'd left behind in the restaurant is crowding around him again, even out in the open as they are.
Dominic stops then, tugs on Billy's hand to stop his steps as well, and turns to face the sea. The tide's out, and where they stand, the sand is soft and still warm from the day's sun. Dominic kicks off his shoes and buries his feet to his ankles in the sand before he sinks to sit, his arms around his knees. Billy takes a few steps forward, toward the water, and then stops, his hands in his pockets. Dominic stares at Billy's back, knows that if his hands were on Billy's shoulders that they'd be stiff, the muscles in his back tight.
Dominic's suddenly tired of trying to ease their way back with jokes and leaves Billy to sort himself out. The thought of Ian presents itself again and Dominic closes his eyes to enjoy it without having to see Billy at the same time. For a moment, he questions why he even bothers with trying to maintain this, whatever this is, with Billy when it seems to be making them both miserable. This line of thought doesn't go too far, though, before Billy sits next to him in the sand, close enough for Dominic to feel his body's heat and smell the scent of his soap and laundry detergent and recognize again why he bothers--recognize it all too well.
"Told you it'd be nice out here."
"Quiet."
"Whole beach to ourselves."
Dominic opens his eyes to see if Billy has more meaning in his eyes than in his voice but Billy is still looking out at the shoreline, watching the waves roll gently onto the beach and ever closer to their feet. "You wanted to talk," he reminds Billy, ready now for it to be over.
"I did, yeah," Billy sighs, but then goes quiet again. Dominic knows he's counting the waves and the seconds between them, the same way he sometimes calms his thoughts at night by counting the brush of leaves against the balcony outside the little house he's calling his while they're filming.
"So talk," Dominic says gently, working to keep the resignation from his voice. He falls to his back in the sand, staring up at the clouds. "Whatever it is, Bill, just talk."
Billy rocks a little in the sand, his elbows on his knees, and nods. The time it takes him to figure out what he wants to say doesn't bother Dominic now; he knows that when Billy's words finally do come, it'll be because they're what Billy meant to say; Billy doesn't sound like he's really wanting a fight, and Dominic's not sure he'd be up to giving him that sort of one anyway.
"Not so homesick anymore, are you, Dom?" he says finally, just before Dominic's ready to nudge at him. "D'you remember when we both were there, for a bit? It was worse for me those first couple of weeks, before you got here, yeah? And then it was like the adrenaline beat it out of me." Billy laughs, but then continues. "I keep thinking I'm too fucking knackered to miss anything anymore, but I do. I miss things I don't even think I had. I miss you. It's fucking twee. But I miss you, and I don't know what it is about you I miss more than just—this. Us."
Billy looks from behind his now slightly-hunched shoulder at Dominic, and his cheeks flush warm and red when he realizes Dominic's just listening, watching him intently. After another pause, Billy drops his shoulders and rolls to his stomach beside Dominic, his fingers curling around a shell near Dominic's shoulder, focusing his attention on that even as he still speaks to Dominic.
"Where's your head, Dom?" he says, barely above the sounds of the waves. "When you're not even hearing me, where's your head?"
"When I'm with you, I'm with you, right?"
"You're not. I wish you were, but you're not." Dominic tips his head back to look at Billy. He can see nothing but shadows, the hard set of Billy's jaw, and grows angry that now is the time that Billy doesn't understand him perfectly. Chooses not to. "You're with him."
"You just don't want to hear what I have to say sometimes. Ian--"
"Don't--"
"Then don't do that--cut me off when I mention his name." Dominic fights to keep his voice even. He meets Billy's eyes for another moment then intentionally looks back to the water, stretching back into the sand. "Ian and I have a different sort of relationship is what I was going to say. He respects how I feel about you."
"And I don't. Is that what you think?"
Dominic tips his head back again. "No, but then you don't give me much choice."
"No. It's not that. It's just that I don't understand it, what you're--doing with him. I don't know why you want it." As he speaks, Billy props himself on one elbow and moves his other hand across Dominic's chest to slip beneath the collar of Dominic's shirt. He presses his fingertips into the burn on Dominic's shoulder, and Dominic feels the muscles there bunch and tense just before Billy does, knowing Billy's got to be aware that it does hurt, whatever Dominic had said before. Billy doesn't pull back as he had earlier, though; this time he scratches his nails over Dominic's skin first absently, then harder, and Dominic swallows the hiss he'd let Billy hear if he thought it wouldn't terrify him. Instead he raises his own hand, pressing it lightly against Billy's cheek, brushing at some mark the day's left on him. Billy flinches, but only a little, then takes a deep breath before he speaks again. "I don't understand what you get from being in pain."
"It's not about pain." Billy lifts his hand away at Dominic's words and the loss hurts as much as the touch had itself. Dominic curves his hand to the back of Billy's neck gently, massaging as well as he can in the awkward position. "It's about learning to control myself--my emotions."
"Y'don't need someone else to teach you how to do that," Billy says sharply, but softly, too, the unspoken you're a fucking actor as present underneath it as if Billy'd shouted it.
"We're not all at your level of zen," Dominic shoots back. "Or too lazy to get invested enough in anything to get worked up."
"You're also not all as old as I am, or as fucking tired." Billy closes his eyes and takes another breath, and Dominic hears the uglier echoes of what they've just said swirling around in the air; he massages Billy's neck a bit harder in strange apology, and Billy hums, accepting it. "So what do you want from me, Dom? If you have him."
"It's not that I want something from you, Billy. I want--" Dominic sits up in frustration and Billy follows him, leaning in close but not close enough, peering at Dominic's profile. For a while Dominic tracks a set of lights at the edge of the horizon--some fishing boat, he assumes, someone else’s life and worries--before he ducks his head, whispering as if they’re no longer alone. "I want you."
"I want you, too," Billy says just as quietly, and quickly, too, worlds more so than Dominic thought he'd ever admit it.
"Then take me."
Billy recoils back inches and shoots him a look that would bleach bone, but Dominic holds his ground. It's not the ripped from a romance novel declaration Billy would clearly like to think it is; Dominic's dead serious, and they both know it. Dominic lets the current of that pass between them until Billy has to turn away, shaking his head but neither laughing nor angry now.
"Margaret will tell you that I never shared anything willingly."
"You don't--" have to, Dominic thinks, but he's not necessarily convinced enough of it to finish the sentence, and Billy breaks a little, chuffing out a hard laugh. Dominic feels his own face reddening deeply, from anger or embarrassment, he's not sure; either way, he's got to get past this, and the words tumble from him now, different but more certain. "She'd also tell me you've never been just given anything, Billy; you've worked for it, and when you've wanted something bad enough you've--"
"Taken it. So I just--take you. From him." Billy's teeth are bared, his breaths short and hot near Dominic's skin. "Just like that. And give you what you're wanting, and face you every morning in that bloody truck knowing you're--" Billy stops himself, and Dominic waits him out breathlessly, all the possible responses to all the possible things Billy could say next working wildly in his mind. "Knowing what's been done to you. Knowing I did it, Dom."
"Is it easier if someone else has?"
"No." Billy's voice sounds choked, and Dominic regrets saying that, too, but not much, not now, watching Billy work through it, too. An expression Dominic's never seen crosses Billy's face, one that shocks him with its slow-burning intensity, the waves of frustration moving over Billy. "This is where I'm supposed to tell you he doesn't deserve you. He probably does, though. What you put the rest of us through, you deserve each other. That doesn't mean I don't want you more."
"Then take me, Billy."
***
Billy hears the hiss of desperation and determination in Dominic’s voice, knows that he’s not just talking about sex, though there’s that--there’s definitely that, too--but Billy has to wonder if Dominic really knows what he’s offering up, what Billy would take. What he could take. What he wants so much that it hurts sometimes. Billy looks away, unable to bear the intensity in Dominic’s eyes, and Dominic waits for him to catch up, sitting quiet and still beside him.
The tide's moved in, bringing the surf nearly to their feet, and the waves have picked up as promised, along with the wind. The storm is nearing, clouds heavy with rain blotting out the moon now. He knows if they stay where they are, they’ll be drenched soon, and while the image isn't a completely bad one, Billy thinks maybe they should finish this talk of theirs back in their room, and maybe the drive there will give him time to suss out exactly what it is that Dominic is giving him permission to do--just giving him, full stop.
At the thought of a stilted conversation over the room’s polyester counterpane covered with a cheap bamboo print and the ceiling fan that wobbles rather than spins, something snaps into place inside Billy and instantly tamps down most of whatever it was that caused that outburst, and it's easier in that moment to think he could do it, he could do exactly what Dominic so clearly wants him to do and it wouldn’t even matter if Ian had been there first, because Billy could be better. He would be better. He and he alone would be enough for Dominic, maybe more than enough, and Billy knows with a sudden clarity that that had been his fear all along.
The rain's coming, great fat drops of it falling slowly like warning shots, and Billy shakes one from his forehead, annoyed. Glaring up at the sky doesn't achieve anything but the loss of Dominic's patience, and even that comes a lot later than it would normally, Billy thinks as he watches Dominic gather himself up from the sand; months ago Dominic would have been half inside Billy's clothes by now, demanding Billy's response and attention whatever way he could get it. What's happening now takes enormous strength on Dominic's part, Billy can see and for the most part appreciate it, but connecting it to whatever Dominic's done with Ian is harder, and makes Billy want the old Dominic back, lack of self-control and all.
"We need to go," Dominic says, pushing sticky sand from under his forearms, and Billy blinks.
"Do we?"
"You hate being cold, and you're about to get it. You know, in case you hadn't noticed we're being rained on."
"But I'm not--" ready, Billy thinks, and then remembers he was; he wanted to get out of here and back to the room. It's not the safety of walls and dry air he's not actually ready for, though, and they both know that, too. Dominic tilts his head and steps forward, as close to Billy as he feels he can safely get, it looks like. He opens his mouth to speak but gets silenced by an impressive roar of thunder they'd both normally gasp at and admire like ten-year-old boys, and Billy jumps a little, frowning down immediately at Dominic's hand wrapping around his arm.
"Let's just go," Dominic says once the noise has lessened, and he says it kindly, almost gently, and Billy hates himself a bit for narrowing his eyes at that kindness, trying to read what's underneath it. A little more of that desperation of before would take them both a long way tonight in the direction Dominic wants and Billy's decided he could maybe go along with, but if that moment's passed, it'll be Billy left irritable and frustrated, not Dominic; Dominic can run off to the happy damage Ian does him, while Billy stands back again and just lets him go.
Or doesn't.
They've started walking before Billy realizes it, trudging through sand getting heavier around their feet. Dominic points out rockfaces and cliffs in the distance, naming them like a local and nudging his shoulder against Billy's as if he's never felt more comfortable anywhere else, with anyone else. The rain comes down harder, but it's alright, they're almost to the car, and Billy's almost relaxed again when it happens, when Dominic's rambling turns excited and quick and he barrels hard to the end of some anecdote with the phrase and then Ian said we ought to know better—
Dominic's silenced this time by his own gasp, by the pain of his back hitting the rock wall Billy's shoved him against and by Billy's own guttural Enough, fucking enough-- before he kisses Dominic harder than he's ever done, harder even than he has before fucking him on one or more occasions they've needed and wanted something more greedy than their usual comfort contact sport. Dominic sinks into it, his whole body sagging against Billy, and Billy allows them both to love it, allows himself to drag his teeth a little and then harder, feeling Dominic's groan from deep within his chest before he actually hears it. There's a relief building inside Dominic, Billy can feel that, too, but neither of them has earned that yet, and Billy shoves Dominic back again as he pulls away, a hundred different furious or snarky things on his lips and none worth saying now. Talking hasn't worked, and in the moment Billy thinks he and Dominic would never make it back to that motel room alive; another of Dominic's breathless testimonies of Ian's wisdom would have Billy running them off the road and then possibly strangling Dominic on the side of it. But this suddenly isn't about Ian anymore; it's about the way Dominic's staring at him open-mouthed now, just about begging for more of what's just happened.
It's impossible not to give it to him. Billy steps forward again, closing that little distance he's created, and then they're back at it, even harder this time. Billy's fingernails dig into Dominic's waist while Dominic's hands tug at Billy's hair, his shirt, whatever they can catch hold of, desperate but not demanding for once; there's a different, thrilling sort of plea Dominic's making here with his body now that he can't do so any other way.
Dominic's eagerness gets the best of both of them eventually, though; his feet slide and push at the sand, shifting first him and then Billy off balance, and not even Billy's attempt to steady them works. Together they crash to the ground, together they curse and regroup, the breath and fight too briefly knocked out of them. Billy gets to his feet properly before Dominic's risen from a full crouch, leaning against the rock wall, and Billy finds his words then as he shoves Dominic back down, maybe not the words he'd say if he were feeling even slightly sane but the right ones nonetheless.
"Stay there," he says, again hot and quick and from between his teeth again, needing the moment to breathe and think and maybe something more, and Dominic staggers on his knees but keeps to them, his sudden chatter grateful and slurry and completely incomprehensible to Billy now.
The rain's started to come down in proper sheets, though Billy thinks maybe they’re sheltered from the worst of it and the wind; it occurs to him suddenly that he hates even that sort of safety. He’s been safe too long, and part of that is what’s led them here. He stares down at Dominic, watches Dominic's hands reach for him and almost catch him again, and Billy's first, second, possibly third plans fly out the window of his thoughts as he moves faster than Dominic can, knocking them both fully to the sand. Dominic gasps in one of the few moments of real surprise Billy's thrown them into, and does it again when Billy's hands wrap around his wrists to settle him, as much as Dominic can ever be settled. The shock's enough for a moment that Billy can lean forward, trapping Dominic in another hard kiss as his grip loosens, only slightly. Dominic presses his advantage as if it really exists, and Billy's just as quick to confirm it doesn't. You wanted this, Billy thinks, and has no idea which of them needs to hear it more.
What begins as a tussle turns rougher until Billy backs off and then pushes forward again, clamping Dominic's wrists to the ground and hearing his own breath catch a bit when Dominic goes still and looks up at him, reminding Billy sharply of another time months ago when he'd done this, captured Dominic in a ridiculous little scrum after Billy'd caught him gathering up the golf ball markers on the set. It's like Dominic's counting off the seconds while they both remember it, and on his cue Dominic shifts again finally, just as he had then, turning his narrow hips this way and that; months ago it was in a tease that had left them both blushing and provided fodder for the next several hours of outrageous flirting and sundry pornographic insults thrown between them mostly as entertainment for others, but now--now is different, now is harder and very real, and Dominic tips his head back and closes his eyes and lets Billy see properly another internal switch of Dominic's being flipped, lets him feel at least one of Dominic's many struggles ceasing under the pressure of Billy's hands.
You should have told me, Billy thinks this time, gone still now, too, above Dominic, half his body's weight fully on his grasp of Dominic's wrists. They could have had something more for all these months now; there could have been nothing and no one else in the picture or either of their beds. That there's no real way to know that is easily pushed away with the next breath Billy takes before Dominic takes one longer and deeper, one that fills his chest as he opens his eyes again and flexes his fingers carefully, just their tips brushing Billy's hands. It's an invitation, a challenge, another plea, one Billy doesn't answer immediately but when does, he does so hard, pressing down on Dominic's wrists with enough force that Dominic hisses and arches up at him, every bone in his body begging for it again while he works harder than Billy's ever seen him work at anything to not do that begging out loud, not yet. Billy suddenly realizes Dominic's had that worked out of him, and hates it; he's never not loved the sound of Dominic's voice, even when it might have been wiser to have kept him quiet.
"Tell me," Billy says, going still again, and Dominic has to blink and focus sharply to really hear him, it seems like. "Give me a reason to not get up and leave you like this."
"You wouldn't--" Dominic cuts himself off at the same time Billy does it for him, shoving one knee between their legs and hissing when Dominic groans again.
"Don't be so fucking sure I need this half as much as you do."
Another switch visibly flips inside Dominic, and he struggles violently underneath Billy, not anywhere near enough to make it look like he wants at all to be actually released. Billy can't push down the smile that splits his features, the greedy triumph he feels rising in him as he fights back, holding Dominic down. That wave only crests for a moment, though; Dominic's beautiful like this, and Billy knows that whatever more he needs, Billy can't give it all to him entirely, not here, not when he's not that person yet, and not when he's feeling his way along second by second. What he's giving Dominic now has to be enough, and it can be.
Billy rises up on his hands, bracing his feet, and waits for Dominic to surrender and meet his eyes again. When he does, Billy nods slowly, granting Dominic something he can't even name but Dominic recognizes perfectly, spreading his thighs and raising his knees as much as he can, the drag of his limbs against Billy's almost too much for Billy to take. It's tempting to make Dominic work hard for the release he's looking for, but it would require more strength on Billy's behalf, more mental and emotional discipline, than it would Dominic's, he's sure of it, and that strength and discipline just--aren't there now. "Tell me," he says again, and Dominic's eyes flutter open and closed and open again, his fingers, too, weakly this time. "Tell me why, Dom."
"If you don’t know by now, Billy--”
Billy cuts him off, his kiss unrelenting this time. He knows--he knows he knows and just as quickly decides he doesn’t need to hear it from Dominic, or that hearing it would be worse. He lets Dominic kiss him back, lets himself fall into it just as eagerly as Dominic has. He's willing to pretend this whatever it is is sorted. At least for the moment, he believes he can give Dominic what he needs and wants and craves. He can believe that he needs and wants and craves it too, and somewhere between kisses and touching and pushing Dominic’s soaked shirt from his body, he thinks that maybe he’s not pretending anymore.
The only care he can bother to take is for his own benefit more than Dominic's, and no hardship, either; for all the places on Dominic's body he's wanted and always wants to touch, those on which Ian's left recent trace don't hold the same allure as those open to a possessive, harder touch of his own. Dominic's hands still rest above his head as if still trapped there, and Billy nods again, the right warning at the right time if Dominic's response is anything to go by. Billy's own hands move roughly all over Dominic's chest on their way lower, tearing brutally at the waist of Dominic's jeans and their fucking inane obstacles of buttons slippery and hard between his fingers. Dominic chances a rise of his hips, holding himself there even when Billy flares up and hisses again. For that, the jeans aren't coming off, Billy decides; he can take what he wants without much more work than he's already done, and demonstrates just that when his fingers find Dominic's cock inside all that soaked denim, hot and thick and hard enough that Billy wonders dumbly how Dominic's held on this long.
"Make it good," Billy says before he can stop himself, make it sound prettier or for that matter any uglier. His fingers clench as hard as he can manage in the tight jeans, tugging until he's freed Dominic's cock and Dominic's fallen back to the sand, gasping. "Show me it's worth this, Dom--"
"Show me it isn't," Dominic hisses back, and it takes everything Billy's got not to do real damage at that, only the thought that Dominic would love it even more stopping him. Instead Billy shoves between Dominic's thighs again, relishing the higher, raspier sound that rips from Dominic's throat. It's nothing he's ever heard before, and it turns his attention exactly as Dominic must have needed it to, back to Billy's hand working Dominic's cock roughly, never looking away from Dominic's face and the way it changes, the way he can't hide anything now, not even the change from all that smirking fuck challenge back to the desperation, the need Billy can choose to believe Dominic can't find or ease with anyone else.
Dominic's stuttering with it after only a few more drawn-out vicious moments of Billy's touch punctuated by the drawn-out vicious breaths Billy's taking above him. Dominic reaches for him again, and Billy's free hand smacks him away, harder than he'd intended but not half as much as he could, and they both know that, too. It wouldn't take more than the briefest contact from Dominic's hand and Billy might be in a worse state than Dominic, and he can't afford that, not when Dominic's this close. Let him go, Billy tells himself above the sound of all the other angrier, less intelligent thoughts screaming in his head, and as if his body's overruling any possible objection to that, Billy's foot slips in the sand and he falter, leaning forward and pressing that free hand again hard above and against Dominic's wrist. Dominic nearly shouts in relief and warning, and then he's coming, hips rising and breath caught while Billy inhales sharply and has no chance to do anything more but hold on, get them both through it.
The world should have by all right stopped, Billy thinks afterward, the moment he can think after he's able to look away from where Dominic looks desperately for breath beneath him. The world and the rain and all those screaming thoughts can just--stop, and not one of them does; he's not owed any measure of peace after what's just happened, not even if Dominic's somehow found it. Dominic reads him now as well as any other time, too; he tugs Billy down to him, holding them both raggedly steady, strangely safe again.
They can't stay here, however much it feels pointless to leave because of the weather or anything else. Billy gives in to the chance not to think for a little while, but he knows better than to believe this won't come back to haunt him in deeper, longer-lasting aches than usual, and he slowly shifts away from Dominic what seems like years later, dragging his hands carefully down Dominic's body as he pulls himself back up and gathers Dominic with him. The lull in the rain makes it too easy to see the damage that’s been done, and he's careful, too, to ease Dominic back to his knees, tucking his jeans closed again while Dominic leans against him, exhausted. Billy wrestles the car keys from his pocket, feeling only now just how far they'd dug into his skin through all of that, and he sighs, pressing a hand to Dominic’s chest to keep him upright. He can barely look at Dominic now, but doesn't need to; Dominic's not much for looking his way, either, preferring to get as close as he can in whatever space Billy gives him, working them back to lean again by the rocks. Too much time passes, then, agonizing and slow, until Billy can't stand the sound of the rain much more, not without Dominic's chattering harmony, in whatever form it takes.
"You're going to go back to him, aren't you."
"Billy--"
"Don't answer that; I don't actually want to know. It's better when I don't."
Dominic hums sleepily. "Except you always do, Billy."
"I do, yeah. And it doesn't seem to matter, even when it needs to. It really fucking should. It's like I go blind. I don't want to see it, so I don't, but I feel it, and you're not supposed to know that bit, so pretend y'never heard it." Billy takes a deep breath. "I don't even know at this point who's the sickest fuck of the three of us."
Dominic snorts and moves closer, touching his forehead to Billy's shoulder while Billy still stares up and out at the sky, at the still pouring rain. "Plenty of time to find out."
Billy turns his head, something nasty and quick on his lips, but he retracts it before it's spoken, willing himself to fall back into the ease and comfort it seems Dominic's already found so soon. Even in the darkness Billy can see a new bruise blooming low on the side of Dominic's neck, and he lets out a low breath, knowing that's--his, that he caused it, though he has no real memory of how. His fingers find the mark before his mind can warn him against it, and at his touch Dominic releases another grateful little noise and nudges even closer, close enough that Billy can tilt his own head awkwardly and brush his lips against the bruise, not so much in apology as acknowledgment. He might as well have wrapped it in pretty paper for the reaction the gesture gets; Dominic's own hand reaches for him, pulling gently at the collar of Billy's shirt to lever himself up enough to kiss Billy in return, deeply and perfectly.
"Are we going back?"
Billy opens his eyes to find that Dominic's pulled back, only just barely, but his eyes are tired and his body so heavy still against Billy's that it would seem more punishment than necessary or even slightly pleasant to drag him to his feet and march him the rest of the way to the car in this mess.
"We always do," Billy sighs, then shakes his head. "Not yet, though. Not now. Just--we'll pretend I need the rest, hmm?"
Dominic laughs quietly, half-asleep already and nestling back down in the space he's found against Billy. "The things you do for me."
"All of them safer when I don't."
Dominic doesn't respond; whether it's because there's no way to do so or because he's not heard Billy is beside the point. What matters is that wherever Dominic's head is now, wherever's it's going to be as soon as something shiny and different and new--or burnished and strengthened with age--captures his attention, the rest of him's asleep here, next to Billy for as long as Billy can keep him there, which could be longer than Dominic's dreamt of, Billy thinks. Longer and harder and—yes, maybe better than Ian could Dominic in any one place or position, if Billy had the ambition and patience of all the saints in the pileup that's Dominic's name. It's something to consider when he's feeling human again and when he doesn't feel the weight of Ian's amused stare on their backs or Dominic's unstable world on his shoulders as well as his own. When the responsibility of all this doesn't seem either so harrowing or so perfect he'd risk nearly anything to have it. To take it, from Ian or anyone else who stood in his way.
Dominic shifts in his sleep, mutters something sweet and unintelligible again, and Billy closes his eyes sharply as if he'll be caught in that insane trance of persuading himself to do god only knows what. No other decisions beyond when to finally make a break for the car need to be made tonight, and Billy finally tips his head back and let himself fall asleep, too; in the morning he might have to face things more clear-eyed, and that's something he wants to believe he can handle. Nearly every day he's known Dominic has brought one challenge or another, no reason tomorrow should be any different or that much harder, right?
Right. And about as brilliantly wrong as anything can be.
Authors:
kiltsandlollies and escriboPairing: bb/dm; implied im/dm
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8400~
Notes: Part of the Every Nerve Like a Firefly universe, but can be read as a stand-alone piece.
Summary: All last summer in case you don't recall / I was yours and you were mine; forget it all.
It's getting out of the wetsuits that Billy likes least about surfing. Peeling away the suit means leaving that state of calm and ease that's just begun to come over him out there in even the rougher waters and finding himself bared to the elements and real life again—at least as real as life here gets. It's just such a damn struggle sometimes, and while he keeps his petulance mostly to himself, even Dominic's noticed how long it takes Billy to get dressed again and taken him to teasing task about it.
That Dominic's not doing so now is both a relief and a concern to Billy. He peers at Dominic moving slowly on the other side of the small room they’ve rented at a dodgy motel close enough to the beach as not to matter, stripping off his suit as if he knows Billy's watching and he wants to make a good show of it. There's no doubt in either of their minds that Billy appreciates Dom's body, but it's rare he gets to take this long a look at it when they're not in bed.
"You alright?" Dominic asks over his shoulder, and Billy nods, working his own suit down past his waist.
"I hate this bit. And it's freezing in here. I'll manage, though," he laughs, not wanting to sound ungrateful for the day and afternoon they've spent out in the water and on the beach. "Just going to jump in the shower, get some heat, yeah?"
"Good plan," Dominic nods too, and steps inside the bathroom to start the water before he thinks twice and leans back outside the bathroom door. "You don't mind if we ... it'll be faster—?"
"No, no that's great." Billy plays at a leer, mostly to make Dom laugh. "I think I saw a film like that once."
Dominic pokes his tongue out from between his teeth. "I think I might have been in it. C'mon then; I want to get back out there."
When he disappears inside the bathroom again, Billy shoves harder at his wetsuit, leaving it in a to-be-regretted-later pile on the carpeting that might have been green once. By the time he's in the tiny shower Dominic's already soaked and slicked here and there with clouds of lather. His back is to Billy at first, and Billy touches one finger down Dominic's spine, trailing it through the soap. Dominic hums in pleasure and turns to face him, catching Billy's face for the quick, easy kind of kiss Billy tends to need from him before he can progress to anything more.
That more is a bit on Billy's mind today, and as his eyes move over Dominic's body in the shower Billy finds himself getting just hard enough that he starts thinking of something else, anything else to make it stop. Dominic doesn't notice, or at least doesn't say so, but when he turns his back again to rinse his face and hair Billy lets out a breath and looks at Dominic again, this time greedily.
"Here," Dominic says, over his shoulder again. "Switch, c'mon." As they shift under the stream of water, Dominic drags his hand around Billy's waist comfortably—again, with so much ease—and then caresses Billy's back with his hands. Billy feels the soap coursing down his body and stands in the spray letting the hot water beat down on him while Dominic's fingers work quick magic. He flattens his hands on the cracked tile for a moment, just enjoying it, and then twists slightly away, reaching for Dominic’s bottle of fancy shampoo and the fastest wash he's ever taken.
Dominic laughs, the sound echoing on the tile, and it's clear he thinks this is some kind of race, another game of many they play. Billy tries not to think at all, just scraping his hands through his hair and standing for one last rinse before he cuts the water off impatiently and turns to take Dominic's face in his hands for a kiss just one half-level higher and harder than the one before. Again Dominic hums as they pull away, sucking at Billy's lip gently, and Billy smiles as if he knows exactly what he's doing before he steps out of the shower and grabs one of the thin towels.
He's dry and half-dressed before he notices Dominic wandering the room a bit, not a stitch of fabric on him yet, shifting their possessions and shaking out Billy's wetsuit. Billy's hands stop on the buttons of his shirt and he raises his eyebrows.
"Leave it, Dom; we're not going back out in the morning. The waves'll be too rough, remember?"
"Doesn't mean you can't take decent care of your things," Dominic says absently, and Billy watches him take both their suits into the bathroom, for god knows what, really, and when Dominic returns, Billy pushes his hands out at his sides in the common are you satisfied now? gesture he'd learned mostly from Dominic himself.
"Much as I like you just as you are," Billy laughs, "you might want to put on some clothes before we go back out."
"You sure about that?" Dominic stops what he's doing to give Billy a leer of his own, one that apparently fails at its effect and earns him a cackle instead.
"Positive. I'll let you try your best to seduce me later, yeah?" Billy turns from Dominic and the smile falls from his face as he gathers his wallet and the key to the room. He has an idea as to how the evening is going to go--how it's gone lately--but then with Dominic, it was hard to tell. "Dinner first. What do you think about that restaurant we passed coming up this morning?"
"Fine."
Dominic's voice sounds distracted, and Billy turns to find him standing still naked in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door, inspecting the redness across his shoulders. For a moment Billy can only watch again, his frustration at Dominic taking his time vanished. He tries to ignore the marks low on Dominic's back that didn't come from surfing, the set of four thin, long bruises. He's seen them before, or ones similar, and his mind rejects the connection to Ian.
"I told you to keep your rashguard on," he scolds, but gently, his voice carrying more sympathy than irritation. Billy joins Dominic at the mirror and presses his fingers into Dominic's skin, watching as the red turns white with the pressure then back. Dominic grimaces but doesn't swat Billy's hand away, so Billy does it again. "Does it hurt?"
"No," Dominic says and Billy can see that Dominic assumes he means the burn, which likely stings rather hurts, and not the press of Billy's fingers. Dominic meets Billy's eyes in the mirror as Billy pushes again, digging in his fingernails this time in a sort of challenge to make Dominic admit that it does hurt, but then the desire is gone as soon as it comes, and Billy steps back. Dominic's shoulders drop a bit, and he nods. "I'll get some aloe while we're out."
"You're not going to get anything if you don't hurry." Billy moves away, then, and sits on the edge of one of the beds while he watches Dominic get dressed. The top three marks on Dominic's back are visible just over the waist of the jeans he pulls on, and Billy has a new urge now, to press his fingers to them, too. He won't let himself think of what might have caused them--or who--chalking them up to filming damage even though he knows exactly when they appeared, his mind an apparent catalog and calendar when it comes to Dominic, and to Dominic's body.
He tells himself he's not that interested in prodding Dominic for the moment, anyway; they've had a fantastic day out in the water, and Billy's feeling strong and pleasantly worn out the way only willing exercise can make him feel. He's in a decent mood, too, if distracted; he knows he'll feel more settled after dinner, and he wants Dominic to feel the same. While he waits Billy turns the room key over and over in his fingers, the clicking of the oversized key against the plastic key ring pulling Dominic out of his musing and leading him over to Billy's side, finally dressed in those worn jeans and a blue t-shirt, its logo too faded to read.
"Humid in here now," Billy says, jumping up and away from the bed and making for the door. Dominic palms his back pocket and turns his head back to the room, but Billy makes a dismissive noise and pulls at Dominic's shirt. "I've got it. You can pay for the room; it'll be sorted."
"How much do you think I'm going to eat?" Dominic laughs, but he steps out of the room without his wallet or anything else, sliding by Billy at the door. Billy catches up to him and passes him as they walk to the car, throwing suggestions for the evening over his shoulder, knowing Dominic's close behind. The drive back down to the restaurant is loud, with Dominic needling Billy gently about the state of the car and his driving over the sound of mixed tape of Travis and Divine Comedy, the sound fading in and out from overuse, and Billy returning fire verbally and eventually physically, shoving his fist against Dominic's shoulder at a stoplight and inhaling sharply when Dominic grimaces again.
"You alright?"
"Doesn't hurt," Dominic laughs, but Billy doesn't echo it.
"'s not what I asked, is it."
There's a moment's quiet, and then Dominic looks away and out the front window. "Light's gone green, Bill."
Billy presses down on the accelerator a little too hard, but only to clear them past the light and then edge the car quickly to the side of the road. Billy shoves the car in park and turns to Dominic with an expression Dominic's never seen before from him. It's not anger, not anything close; it's something that thrills Dominic a bit, something he wants to see more of.
"Are you even here, Dom?" Billy asks him, one arm leaning over the steering wheel while his other hand clenches white on the gearshift. "I've been talking to you half the day and it's been this kind of ... half-dead git talking back t'me. When you remember to."
"You're reaching," Dominic laughs, but he's inched back a little in the seat, shifting now as Billy watches the prickle of conscience fighting with Dominic's obvious desire to say something a lot more weighted. "And it's not like you're full of things to say lately, either. I was telling Ian—"
"Don't." It comes out fast and from between Billy's teeth. "I'm not interested."
"Kind of my point."
"I'll keep missing it, then." Billy pushes forward with it while the energy's still there. "Because it's us now, yeah? I'm having dinner with you, not you and ... everything else. Everyone else. It's us now." He doesn't have to elaborate, he knows; Dominic's cheeks are flushed now like he's been caught out, and whether it's genuine, Billy refuses to care.
"Just us," Dominic says, quiet again, and Billy nods.
"Good." Billy holds Dominic's stare for a long moment, then he throws on a smile that's almost steady. "I could murder a steak."
The detritus of more food than two humans should possibly be able to eat covers the table, and Dominic leans back in his bench, absently rubbing his stomach. The check has come and gone and still they linger.
"So, if we can't surf tomorrow, what're we going to do?" Dominic finally asks, just to break the silence, which has begun to feel less companionable again.
"Don't know. We'll find something," Billy answers, his voice noncommittal.
Dominic scratches at his chin, considering Billy. The back and forth is unsettling to Dominic even though he'd had three draws of a local brew that had made him feel relaxed and loose boned, and he's not sure anymore how to give Billy what he wants out of this night--he's not even sure what it is that he wants for himself, much less Billy.
"Or maybe we'll do nothing."
"There's that."
"Are you opposed--"
Dominic is interrupted by the waitress bringing back Billy's card and receipt, which he tucks inside his wallet then slides his wallet into his back pocket. Finished, he picks up his glass and drains it, rubs his wet hand on his thighs but Dominic is distracted by the sight of his throat as he drinks and swallows. Finally he meets Dominic's eyes, a smile just barely playing on his lips as if Billy knows exactly where Dominic’s thoughts have taken him. "Opposed to what?"
"Hmm?"
"You started to say something."
"Oh. I was thinking of going back down to the water."
"Tonight?"
"Yeah. Just for a bit." Dominic slowly spins his glass in the puddle of condensation, watching as the dregs of his drink sloshes around.
"You want to go alone?"
Dominic shakes his head no then lifts his glass to his lips and drinks. He scrunches his face in distaste, his beer gone lukewarm.
"There's an invitation if ever I saw one," Billy laughs at Dominic's expression. "You ready now? I don't think I can actually fit another drink in me."
"We could get a cab."
"I didn't say I was drunk." Billy raises his eyebrows and grins across the table. "D'you not trust me?"
"I'm thinking more production insurance." Dominic grins back at him, happy for the moment that the tension's eased. "Pete would leave our arses in jail overnight, I think. Teach us a lesson."
"You forget I'm never in trouble with Pete."
"That's right; you're perfect."
"Well, more punctual than perfect, but whatever works, yeah?"
Dominic nods. "I need a piss. Meet you out front?"
Billy shakes his head. "I'll come with. You might start staring at yourself in the mirror again, and we'll never get out of here."
Dominic blinks at this too direct hit, but then stands and walks quickly to the loo, Billy soft on his heels. Dominic knows from experience that Billy's smiling and nodding and waving as they go, making friends without even saying a word, making girls and boys alike in the place smile back winningly. There's a kind of injustice to it, this thing about Billy that Dominic's supposed to swallow blindly while Billy gets to turn on a dime and flare up in jealousy whenever Dominic so much as mentions Ian's name. It's not the same thing and he knows it, but that injustice is enough to make Dominic straighten up a little in front of the wall of urinals and meet Billy's eyes in the mirror.
They don't talk, because they don't have to. Billy leans against the back wall with his arms folded across his chest and his shoulders tensed even as the placid calm works its way back over his face. Dominic bites down on the urge to say or do something to unsettle Billy more, and he's saved from the desire by sudden tiredness and a more pressing need to be back by the water again as soon as possible. He breaks their stare down and zips up, turning back to Billy just as Billy smiles and reaches to muss his hair, clearly looking to break the tension again in the opposite direction.
In the car Dominic finds that Billy's telling the truth: he's not drunk, or at least he's acting remarkably sober, driving well and with certainty back in the direction of their motel. Dominic points out a detour to the beach and Billy takes it without question for once, humming with a restrained delight as the water appears before them, glittering slightly under the moon.
"'s nice," Billy says, leaning back in his seat after he turns off the motor. Dominic looks from Billy to the water and back again, clearly wondering why they're still sitting in the car when they could be out there, and then Billy smiles again, a little tightly. "We need to talk, Dom.”
“Nothing good ever comes from those words.”
“I know. I hate it, I hate this. I hate that we have to." Billy takes a deep breath and then sighs, opening his door. "Out there, though. 's nice."
Dominic mentally cringes at the suggestion of a talk that he knows will be about their relationship, or his and Ian's relationship--or some combination of it all. Ian never suggests they talk; he just accepts everything for what it is--not as indecision on Dominic's part, but confusion. Billy is not Ian, and Dominic knows this well. He keeps his face steady, though, smiling a bit into his nod as he reaches for his door eagerly.
They walk along in peace for several minutes, the moon high above them and the ocean quietly lapping at the shore. There will be a storm later tonight—Dominic can smell it on the air—but it's calm enough now, only high, thin clouds against the inky night. For a while, Dominic thinks maybe they won't have to talk. Maybe they'll just walk until the beach ends, silent but together and companionably so, but then Billy clears his throat and Dominic feels as if all the tension they'd left behind in the restaurant is crowding around him again, even out in the open as they are.
Dominic stops then, tugs on Billy's hand to stop his steps as well, and turns to face the sea. The tide's out, and where they stand, the sand is soft and still warm from the day's sun. Dominic kicks off his shoes and buries his feet to his ankles in the sand before he sinks to sit, his arms around his knees. Billy takes a few steps forward, toward the water, and then stops, his hands in his pockets. Dominic stares at Billy's back, knows that if his hands were on Billy's shoulders that they'd be stiff, the muscles in his back tight.
Dominic's suddenly tired of trying to ease their way back with jokes and leaves Billy to sort himself out. The thought of Ian presents itself again and Dominic closes his eyes to enjoy it without having to see Billy at the same time. For a moment, he questions why he even bothers with trying to maintain this, whatever this is, with Billy when it seems to be making them both miserable. This line of thought doesn't go too far, though, before Billy sits next to him in the sand, close enough for Dominic to feel his body's heat and smell the scent of his soap and laundry detergent and recognize again why he bothers--recognize it all too well.
"Told you it'd be nice out here."
"Quiet."
"Whole beach to ourselves."
Dominic opens his eyes to see if Billy has more meaning in his eyes than in his voice but Billy is still looking out at the shoreline, watching the waves roll gently onto the beach and ever closer to their feet. "You wanted to talk," he reminds Billy, ready now for it to be over.
"I did, yeah," Billy sighs, but then goes quiet again. Dominic knows he's counting the waves and the seconds between them, the same way he sometimes calms his thoughts at night by counting the brush of leaves against the balcony outside the little house he's calling his while they're filming.
"So talk," Dominic says gently, working to keep the resignation from his voice. He falls to his back in the sand, staring up at the clouds. "Whatever it is, Bill, just talk."
Billy rocks a little in the sand, his elbows on his knees, and nods. The time it takes him to figure out what he wants to say doesn't bother Dominic now; he knows that when Billy's words finally do come, it'll be because they're what Billy meant to say; Billy doesn't sound like he's really wanting a fight, and Dominic's not sure he'd be up to giving him that sort of one anyway.
"Not so homesick anymore, are you, Dom?" he says finally, just before Dominic's ready to nudge at him. "D'you remember when we both were there, for a bit? It was worse for me those first couple of weeks, before you got here, yeah? And then it was like the adrenaline beat it out of me." Billy laughs, but then continues. "I keep thinking I'm too fucking knackered to miss anything anymore, but I do. I miss things I don't even think I had. I miss you. It's fucking twee. But I miss you, and I don't know what it is about you I miss more than just—this. Us."
Billy looks from behind his now slightly-hunched shoulder at Dominic, and his cheeks flush warm and red when he realizes Dominic's just listening, watching him intently. After another pause, Billy drops his shoulders and rolls to his stomach beside Dominic, his fingers curling around a shell near Dominic's shoulder, focusing his attention on that even as he still speaks to Dominic.
"Where's your head, Dom?" he says, barely above the sounds of the waves. "When you're not even hearing me, where's your head?"
"When I'm with you, I'm with you, right?"
"You're not. I wish you were, but you're not." Dominic tips his head back to look at Billy. He can see nothing but shadows, the hard set of Billy's jaw, and grows angry that now is the time that Billy doesn't understand him perfectly. Chooses not to. "You're with him."
"You just don't want to hear what I have to say sometimes. Ian--"
"Don't--"
"Then don't do that--cut me off when I mention his name." Dominic fights to keep his voice even. He meets Billy's eyes for another moment then intentionally looks back to the water, stretching back into the sand. "Ian and I have a different sort of relationship is what I was going to say. He respects how I feel about you."
"And I don't. Is that what you think?"
Dominic tips his head back again. "No, but then you don't give me much choice."
"No. It's not that. It's just that I don't understand it, what you're--doing with him. I don't know why you want it." As he speaks, Billy props himself on one elbow and moves his other hand across Dominic's chest to slip beneath the collar of Dominic's shirt. He presses his fingertips into the burn on Dominic's shoulder, and Dominic feels the muscles there bunch and tense just before Billy does, knowing Billy's got to be aware that it does hurt, whatever Dominic had said before. Billy doesn't pull back as he had earlier, though; this time he scratches his nails over Dominic's skin first absently, then harder, and Dominic swallows the hiss he'd let Billy hear if he thought it wouldn't terrify him. Instead he raises his own hand, pressing it lightly against Billy's cheek, brushing at some mark the day's left on him. Billy flinches, but only a little, then takes a deep breath before he speaks again. "I don't understand what you get from being in pain."
"It's not about pain." Billy lifts his hand away at Dominic's words and the loss hurts as much as the touch had itself. Dominic curves his hand to the back of Billy's neck gently, massaging as well as he can in the awkward position. "It's about learning to control myself--my emotions."
"Y'don't need someone else to teach you how to do that," Billy says sharply, but softly, too, the unspoken you're a fucking actor as present underneath it as if Billy'd shouted it.
"We're not all at your level of zen," Dominic shoots back. "Or too lazy to get invested enough in anything to get worked up."
"You're also not all as old as I am, or as fucking tired." Billy closes his eyes and takes another breath, and Dominic hears the uglier echoes of what they've just said swirling around in the air; he massages Billy's neck a bit harder in strange apology, and Billy hums, accepting it. "So what do you want from me, Dom? If you have him."
"It's not that I want something from you, Billy. I want--" Dominic sits up in frustration and Billy follows him, leaning in close but not close enough, peering at Dominic's profile. For a while Dominic tracks a set of lights at the edge of the horizon--some fishing boat, he assumes, someone else’s life and worries--before he ducks his head, whispering as if they’re no longer alone. "I want you."
"I want you, too," Billy says just as quietly, and quickly, too, worlds more so than Dominic thought he'd ever admit it.
"Then take me."
Billy recoils back inches and shoots him a look that would bleach bone, but Dominic holds his ground. It's not the ripped from a romance novel declaration Billy would clearly like to think it is; Dominic's dead serious, and they both know it. Dominic lets the current of that pass between them until Billy has to turn away, shaking his head but neither laughing nor angry now.
"Margaret will tell you that I never shared anything willingly."
"You don't--" have to, Dominic thinks, but he's not necessarily convinced enough of it to finish the sentence, and Billy breaks a little, chuffing out a hard laugh. Dominic feels his own face reddening deeply, from anger or embarrassment, he's not sure; either way, he's got to get past this, and the words tumble from him now, different but more certain. "She'd also tell me you've never been just given anything, Billy; you've worked for it, and when you've wanted something bad enough you've--"
"Taken it. So I just--take you. From him." Billy's teeth are bared, his breaths short and hot near Dominic's skin. "Just like that. And give you what you're wanting, and face you every morning in that bloody truck knowing you're--" Billy stops himself, and Dominic waits him out breathlessly, all the possible responses to all the possible things Billy could say next working wildly in his mind. "Knowing what's been done to you. Knowing I did it, Dom."
"Is it easier if someone else has?"
"No." Billy's voice sounds choked, and Dominic regrets saying that, too, but not much, not now, watching Billy work through it, too. An expression Dominic's never seen crosses Billy's face, one that shocks him with its slow-burning intensity, the waves of frustration moving over Billy. "This is where I'm supposed to tell you he doesn't deserve you. He probably does, though. What you put the rest of us through, you deserve each other. That doesn't mean I don't want you more."
"Then take me, Billy."
Billy hears the hiss of desperation and determination in Dominic’s voice, knows that he’s not just talking about sex, though there’s that--there’s definitely that, too--but Billy has to wonder if Dominic really knows what he’s offering up, what Billy would take. What he could take. What he wants so much that it hurts sometimes. Billy looks away, unable to bear the intensity in Dominic’s eyes, and Dominic waits for him to catch up, sitting quiet and still beside him.
The tide's moved in, bringing the surf nearly to their feet, and the waves have picked up as promised, along with the wind. The storm is nearing, clouds heavy with rain blotting out the moon now. He knows if they stay where they are, they’ll be drenched soon, and while the image isn't a completely bad one, Billy thinks maybe they should finish this talk of theirs back in their room, and maybe the drive there will give him time to suss out exactly what it is that Dominic is giving him permission to do--just giving him, full stop.
At the thought of a stilted conversation over the room’s polyester counterpane covered with a cheap bamboo print and the ceiling fan that wobbles rather than spins, something snaps into place inside Billy and instantly tamps down most of whatever it was that caused that outburst, and it's easier in that moment to think he could do it, he could do exactly what Dominic so clearly wants him to do and it wouldn’t even matter if Ian had been there first, because Billy could be better. He would be better. He and he alone would be enough for Dominic, maybe more than enough, and Billy knows with a sudden clarity that that had been his fear all along.
The rain's coming, great fat drops of it falling slowly like warning shots, and Billy shakes one from his forehead, annoyed. Glaring up at the sky doesn't achieve anything but the loss of Dominic's patience, and even that comes a lot later than it would normally, Billy thinks as he watches Dominic gather himself up from the sand; months ago Dominic would have been half inside Billy's clothes by now, demanding Billy's response and attention whatever way he could get it. What's happening now takes enormous strength on Dominic's part, Billy can see and for the most part appreciate it, but connecting it to whatever Dominic's done with Ian is harder, and makes Billy want the old Dominic back, lack of self-control and all.
"We need to go," Dominic says, pushing sticky sand from under his forearms, and Billy blinks.
"Do we?"
"You hate being cold, and you're about to get it. You know, in case you hadn't noticed we're being rained on."
"But I'm not--" ready, Billy thinks, and then remembers he was; he wanted to get out of here and back to the room. It's not the safety of walls and dry air he's not actually ready for, though, and they both know that, too. Dominic tilts his head and steps forward, as close to Billy as he feels he can safely get, it looks like. He opens his mouth to speak but gets silenced by an impressive roar of thunder they'd both normally gasp at and admire like ten-year-old boys, and Billy jumps a little, frowning down immediately at Dominic's hand wrapping around his arm.
"Let's just go," Dominic says once the noise has lessened, and he says it kindly, almost gently, and Billy hates himself a bit for narrowing his eyes at that kindness, trying to read what's underneath it. A little more of that desperation of before would take them both a long way tonight in the direction Dominic wants and Billy's decided he could maybe go along with, but if that moment's passed, it'll be Billy left irritable and frustrated, not Dominic; Dominic can run off to the happy damage Ian does him, while Billy stands back again and just lets him go.
Or doesn't.
They've started walking before Billy realizes it, trudging through sand getting heavier around their feet. Dominic points out rockfaces and cliffs in the distance, naming them like a local and nudging his shoulder against Billy's as if he's never felt more comfortable anywhere else, with anyone else. The rain comes down harder, but it's alright, they're almost to the car, and Billy's almost relaxed again when it happens, when Dominic's rambling turns excited and quick and he barrels hard to the end of some anecdote with the phrase and then Ian said we ought to know better—
Dominic's silenced this time by his own gasp, by the pain of his back hitting the rock wall Billy's shoved him against and by Billy's own guttural Enough, fucking enough-- before he kisses Dominic harder than he's ever done, harder even than he has before fucking him on one or more occasions they've needed and wanted something more greedy than their usual comfort contact sport. Dominic sinks into it, his whole body sagging against Billy, and Billy allows them both to love it, allows himself to drag his teeth a little and then harder, feeling Dominic's groan from deep within his chest before he actually hears it. There's a relief building inside Dominic, Billy can feel that, too, but neither of them has earned that yet, and Billy shoves Dominic back again as he pulls away, a hundred different furious or snarky things on his lips and none worth saying now. Talking hasn't worked, and in the moment Billy thinks he and Dominic would never make it back to that motel room alive; another of Dominic's breathless testimonies of Ian's wisdom would have Billy running them off the road and then possibly strangling Dominic on the side of it. But this suddenly isn't about Ian anymore; it's about the way Dominic's staring at him open-mouthed now, just about begging for more of what's just happened.
It's impossible not to give it to him. Billy steps forward again, closing that little distance he's created, and then they're back at it, even harder this time. Billy's fingernails dig into Dominic's waist while Dominic's hands tug at Billy's hair, his shirt, whatever they can catch hold of, desperate but not demanding for once; there's a different, thrilling sort of plea Dominic's making here with his body now that he can't do so any other way.
Dominic's eagerness gets the best of both of them eventually, though; his feet slide and push at the sand, shifting first him and then Billy off balance, and not even Billy's attempt to steady them works. Together they crash to the ground, together they curse and regroup, the breath and fight too briefly knocked out of them. Billy gets to his feet properly before Dominic's risen from a full crouch, leaning against the rock wall, and Billy finds his words then as he shoves Dominic back down, maybe not the words he'd say if he were feeling even slightly sane but the right ones nonetheless.
"Stay there," he says, again hot and quick and from between his teeth again, needing the moment to breathe and think and maybe something more, and Dominic staggers on his knees but keeps to them, his sudden chatter grateful and slurry and completely incomprehensible to Billy now.
The rain's started to come down in proper sheets, though Billy thinks maybe they’re sheltered from the worst of it and the wind; it occurs to him suddenly that he hates even that sort of safety. He’s been safe too long, and part of that is what’s led them here. He stares down at Dominic, watches Dominic's hands reach for him and almost catch him again, and Billy's first, second, possibly third plans fly out the window of his thoughts as he moves faster than Dominic can, knocking them both fully to the sand. Dominic gasps in one of the few moments of real surprise Billy's thrown them into, and does it again when Billy's hands wrap around his wrists to settle him, as much as Dominic can ever be settled. The shock's enough for a moment that Billy can lean forward, trapping Dominic in another hard kiss as his grip loosens, only slightly. Dominic presses his advantage as if it really exists, and Billy's just as quick to confirm it doesn't. You wanted this, Billy thinks, and has no idea which of them needs to hear it more.
What begins as a tussle turns rougher until Billy backs off and then pushes forward again, clamping Dominic's wrists to the ground and hearing his own breath catch a bit when Dominic goes still and looks up at him, reminding Billy sharply of another time months ago when he'd done this, captured Dominic in a ridiculous little scrum after Billy'd caught him gathering up the golf ball markers on the set. It's like Dominic's counting off the seconds while they both remember it, and on his cue Dominic shifts again finally, just as he had then, turning his narrow hips this way and that; months ago it was in a tease that had left them both blushing and provided fodder for the next several hours of outrageous flirting and sundry pornographic insults thrown between them mostly as entertainment for others, but now--now is different, now is harder and very real, and Dominic tips his head back and closes his eyes and lets Billy see properly another internal switch of Dominic's being flipped, lets him feel at least one of Dominic's many struggles ceasing under the pressure of Billy's hands.
You should have told me, Billy thinks this time, gone still now, too, above Dominic, half his body's weight fully on his grasp of Dominic's wrists. They could have had something more for all these months now; there could have been nothing and no one else in the picture or either of their beds. That there's no real way to know that is easily pushed away with the next breath Billy takes before Dominic takes one longer and deeper, one that fills his chest as he opens his eyes again and flexes his fingers carefully, just their tips brushing Billy's hands. It's an invitation, a challenge, another plea, one Billy doesn't answer immediately but when does, he does so hard, pressing down on Dominic's wrists with enough force that Dominic hisses and arches up at him, every bone in his body begging for it again while he works harder than Billy's ever seen him work at anything to not do that begging out loud, not yet. Billy suddenly realizes Dominic's had that worked out of him, and hates it; he's never not loved the sound of Dominic's voice, even when it might have been wiser to have kept him quiet.
"Tell me," Billy says, going still again, and Dominic has to blink and focus sharply to really hear him, it seems like. "Give me a reason to not get up and leave you like this."
"You wouldn't--" Dominic cuts himself off at the same time Billy does it for him, shoving one knee between their legs and hissing when Dominic groans again.
"Don't be so fucking sure I need this half as much as you do."
Another switch visibly flips inside Dominic, and he struggles violently underneath Billy, not anywhere near enough to make it look like he wants at all to be actually released. Billy can't push down the smile that splits his features, the greedy triumph he feels rising in him as he fights back, holding Dominic down. That wave only crests for a moment, though; Dominic's beautiful like this, and Billy knows that whatever more he needs, Billy can't give it all to him entirely, not here, not when he's not that person yet, and not when he's feeling his way along second by second. What he's giving Dominic now has to be enough, and it can be.
Billy rises up on his hands, bracing his feet, and waits for Dominic to surrender and meet his eyes again. When he does, Billy nods slowly, granting Dominic something he can't even name but Dominic recognizes perfectly, spreading his thighs and raising his knees as much as he can, the drag of his limbs against Billy's almost too much for Billy to take. It's tempting to make Dominic work hard for the release he's looking for, but it would require more strength on Billy's behalf, more mental and emotional discipline, than it would Dominic's, he's sure of it, and that strength and discipline just--aren't there now. "Tell me," he says again, and Dominic's eyes flutter open and closed and open again, his fingers, too, weakly this time. "Tell me why, Dom."
"If you don’t know by now, Billy--”
Billy cuts him off, his kiss unrelenting this time. He knows--he knows he knows and just as quickly decides he doesn’t need to hear it from Dominic, or that hearing it would be worse. He lets Dominic kiss him back, lets himself fall into it just as eagerly as Dominic has. He's willing to pretend this whatever it is is sorted. At least for the moment, he believes he can give Dominic what he needs and wants and craves. He can believe that he needs and wants and craves it too, and somewhere between kisses and touching and pushing Dominic’s soaked shirt from his body, he thinks that maybe he’s not pretending anymore.
The only care he can bother to take is for his own benefit more than Dominic's, and no hardship, either; for all the places on Dominic's body he's wanted and always wants to touch, those on which Ian's left recent trace don't hold the same allure as those open to a possessive, harder touch of his own. Dominic's hands still rest above his head as if still trapped there, and Billy nods again, the right warning at the right time if Dominic's response is anything to go by. Billy's own hands move roughly all over Dominic's chest on their way lower, tearing brutally at the waist of Dominic's jeans and their fucking inane obstacles of buttons slippery and hard between his fingers. Dominic chances a rise of his hips, holding himself there even when Billy flares up and hisses again. For that, the jeans aren't coming off, Billy decides; he can take what he wants without much more work than he's already done, and demonstrates just that when his fingers find Dominic's cock inside all that soaked denim, hot and thick and hard enough that Billy wonders dumbly how Dominic's held on this long.
"Make it good," Billy says before he can stop himself, make it sound prettier or for that matter any uglier. His fingers clench as hard as he can manage in the tight jeans, tugging until he's freed Dominic's cock and Dominic's fallen back to the sand, gasping. "Show me it's worth this, Dom--"
"Show me it isn't," Dominic hisses back, and it takes everything Billy's got not to do real damage at that, only the thought that Dominic would love it even more stopping him. Instead Billy shoves between Dominic's thighs again, relishing the higher, raspier sound that rips from Dominic's throat. It's nothing he's ever heard before, and it turns his attention exactly as Dominic must have needed it to, back to Billy's hand working Dominic's cock roughly, never looking away from Dominic's face and the way it changes, the way he can't hide anything now, not even the change from all that smirking fuck challenge back to the desperation, the need Billy can choose to believe Dominic can't find or ease with anyone else.
Dominic's stuttering with it after only a few more drawn-out vicious moments of Billy's touch punctuated by the drawn-out vicious breaths Billy's taking above him. Dominic reaches for him again, and Billy's free hand smacks him away, harder than he'd intended but not half as much as he could, and they both know that, too. It wouldn't take more than the briefest contact from Dominic's hand and Billy might be in a worse state than Dominic, and he can't afford that, not when Dominic's this close. Let him go, Billy tells himself above the sound of all the other angrier, less intelligent thoughts screaming in his head, and as if his body's overruling any possible objection to that, Billy's foot slips in the sand and he falter, leaning forward and pressing that free hand again hard above and against Dominic's wrist. Dominic nearly shouts in relief and warning, and then he's coming, hips rising and breath caught while Billy inhales sharply and has no chance to do anything more but hold on, get them both through it.
The world should have by all right stopped, Billy thinks afterward, the moment he can think after he's able to look away from where Dominic looks desperately for breath beneath him. The world and the rain and all those screaming thoughts can just--stop, and not one of them does; he's not owed any measure of peace after what's just happened, not even if Dominic's somehow found it. Dominic reads him now as well as any other time, too; he tugs Billy down to him, holding them both raggedly steady, strangely safe again.
They can't stay here, however much it feels pointless to leave because of the weather or anything else. Billy gives in to the chance not to think for a little while, but he knows better than to believe this won't come back to haunt him in deeper, longer-lasting aches than usual, and he slowly shifts away from Dominic what seems like years later, dragging his hands carefully down Dominic's body as he pulls himself back up and gathers Dominic with him. The lull in the rain makes it too easy to see the damage that’s been done, and he's careful, too, to ease Dominic back to his knees, tucking his jeans closed again while Dominic leans against him, exhausted. Billy wrestles the car keys from his pocket, feeling only now just how far they'd dug into his skin through all of that, and he sighs, pressing a hand to Dominic’s chest to keep him upright. He can barely look at Dominic now, but doesn't need to; Dominic's not much for looking his way, either, preferring to get as close as he can in whatever space Billy gives him, working them back to lean again by the rocks. Too much time passes, then, agonizing and slow, until Billy can't stand the sound of the rain much more, not without Dominic's chattering harmony, in whatever form it takes.
"You're going to go back to him, aren't you."
"Billy--"
"Don't answer that; I don't actually want to know. It's better when I don't."
Dominic hums sleepily. "Except you always do, Billy."
"I do, yeah. And it doesn't seem to matter, even when it needs to. It really fucking should. It's like I go blind. I don't want to see it, so I don't, but I feel it, and you're not supposed to know that bit, so pretend y'never heard it." Billy takes a deep breath. "I don't even know at this point who's the sickest fuck of the three of us."
Dominic snorts and moves closer, touching his forehead to Billy's shoulder while Billy still stares up and out at the sky, at the still pouring rain. "Plenty of time to find out."
Billy turns his head, something nasty and quick on his lips, but he retracts it before it's spoken, willing himself to fall back into the ease and comfort it seems Dominic's already found so soon. Even in the darkness Billy can see a new bruise blooming low on the side of Dominic's neck, and he lets out a low breath, knowing that's--his, that he caused it, though he has no real memory of how. His fingers find the mark before his mind can warn him against it, and at his touch Dominic releases another grateful little noise and nudges even closer, close enough that Billy can tilt his own head awkwardly and brush his lips against the bruise, not so much in apology as acknowledgment. He might as well have wrapped it in pretty paper for the reaction the gesture gets; Dominic's own hand reaches for him, pulling gently at the collar of Billy's shirt to lever himself up enough to kiss Billy in return, deeply and perfectly.
"Are we going back?"
Billy opens his eyes to find that Dominic's pulled back, only just barely, but his eyes are tired and his body so heavy still against Billy's that it would seem more punishment than necessary or even slightly pleasant to drag him to his feet and march him the rest of the way to the car in this mess.
"We always do," Billy sighs, then shakes his head. "Not yet, though. Not now. Just--we'll pretend I need the rest, hmm?"
Dominic laughs quietly, half-asleep already and nestling back down in the space he's found against Billy. "The things you do for me."
"All of them safer when I don't."
Dominic doesn't respond; whether it's because there's no way to do so or because he's not heard Billy is beside the point. What matters is that wherever Dominic's head is now, wherever's it's going to be as soon as something shiny and different and new--or burnished and strengthened with age--captures his attention, the rest of him's asleep here, next to Billy for as long as Billy can keep him there, which could be longer than Dominic's dreamt of, Billy thinks. Longer and harder and—yes, maybe better than Ian could Dominic in any one place or position, if Billy had the ambition and patience of all the saints in the pileup that's Dominic's name. It's something to consider when he's feeling human again and when he doesn't feel the weight of Ian's amused stare on their backs or Dominic's unstable world on his shoulders as well as his own. When the responsibility of all this doesn't seem either so harrowing or so perfect he'd risk nearly anything to have it. To take it, from Ian or anyone else who stood in his way.
Dominic shifts in his sleep, mutters something sweet and unintelligible again, and Billy closes his eyes sharply as if he'll be caught in that insane trance of persuading himself to do god only knows what. No other decisions beyond when to finally make a break for the car need to be made tonight, and Billy finally tips his head back and let himself fall asleep, too; in the morning he might have to face things more clear-eyed, and that's something he wants to believe he can handle. Nearly every day he's known Dominic has brought one challenge or another, no reason tomorrow should be any different or that much harder, right?
Right. And about as brilliantly wrong as anything can be.
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no subject
Date: 2011-06-26 02:53 am (UTC)Poor Dom - he's trying so hard to tell Billy what he wants, and Billy is trying so hard to understand. It's sweaty, needy, hard driven and imperfect love trying to work itself out between the two of them.
Multiple squees...
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Date: 2011-07-14 08:02 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-06-26 09:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-26 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-06-26 02:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-14 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-27 01:27 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-06-28 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-06-28 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-14 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-08 07:49 am (UTC)"Show me it's worth this, Dom--"
"Show me it isn't," Dominic hisses back
Oh yeah, this was good.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-14 08:06 pm (UTC)