fellowshippers | PAPER OR PLASTIC

Title: Paper or Plastic - Prologue

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Billy/Sean B. (eventual Monaboyd)

Feedback: Comment whore...

Disclaimer: Not mine. Even if it is AU.

Synopsis: Was inspired after reading "Friendly Neighborhood Baker" by hobbits_r_cute . Interest begets expectation. And expectation begets disappointment. So, the key to avoiding disappointment, is to avoid interest.

Notes: Special thanks to my loves trash_puppet (feel better, love!) and indigo_blind for helping me get the prologue out! *pelts them with Dom plushies*

***

Billy hated the night shift, more than anything else his groggy, sleep-deprived mind could think of at that current moment in time. Sean had it easy; that is, if you over looked having to handle dead animals for 9 hours, minus the half hour lunch break and five minute coffee (or tea, since Beanie wasn't a coffee person, really) breaks. Their hours over lapped by 50 minutes, which struck Billy as a stupid number, why not just add ten minutes and make it a full hour? More than once the pair had spent 15 minutes of the 50 having sex in the gents, and Billy couldn't think of a better way to start work. So, from 9 p.m. until 7 a.m. Billy worked stock control, which wasn't as boring as it sounded but it was far from interesting. It was also a lot more tiring than it sounded, which led the Scot to his original train of thought.

All he wanted was to get home to his lover and curl up beside him in their bed. That idea alone lit a fire beneath his fit, making him move faster than he had for a long time. It wasn't far to his apartment from the store; it was a a fifteen minute drive give or take. The street lights were just coming on, and the curtains were closing on the streets around him. The world was settling in for the night.

Billy had moved in with Sean six years ago. He had been nervous about it, after living in the country for most of his life, moving into an apartment in the big city seemed like a large and extremely intimidating step. But he had done it, and even if he some times felt like a pea in a tin, Sean was happy - that's what counted. And every day, Billy counted his blessings. He counted more than once, just to help stop him being royally pissed off, when somebody called in sick and he had to do double the work.

“Bloody fuggering traffic.” Billy had entered the flat none two hours later. Setting his car keys on the island in the kitchen.

“Always complaining,” Beanie caught him up in his arms from behind. “You should know better than anyone, that the Back Bay area is notorious for awful traffic.” Sean spoke intimately in Billy’s ear, nuzzling him.

Billy grinned in spite of himself. He squirmed out of the Englishman’s embrace, squealing delightedly as Sean’s large square hands came up to tickle his ribs.

“Aye, I do.” Billy said, standing on tip-toe, and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“You must be dead tired, sweet. Coming to bed, I hope?”

“Was hoping to make myself a cuppa first.” Billy murmured, as he began to sort through their mail. Sean cupped the side of Billy’s face, planting a purposefully sloppy kiss to his temple.

“With a spot of cream and too much honey,” Sean smiled fondly. “Am I right?”

“Bugger off, you.”

He ruffled Billy’s hair briefly, as he passed, before padding down the hall, and into their bedroom.

“Love you!” Billy called to the Sheffield native’s retreating back. Seven years. He’d been with Sean for nearly seven years – well, seven years next Wednesday.

The “Dr. Zhivigo” theme shattered Billy’s thoughts. Who could possibly be calling Sean at this hour of the night? He dallied with the idea of waking Sean, but thought better of it. Billy answered.

“Hello? Who’s calling, please?”

“Stupid git, you know who it is.”

Billy was certainly not familiar with the lilting Australian baritone at the other end.

“Sorry, think you’ve got the-“

“Sean, mate? You left your wallet. Just figured maybe you’d want it back.”

“What's this about Sean?” Something dawned on Billy “What about his wallet?”

“Who is this?”

“This is Billy…his boyfriend. Who is this?”

The voice faltered. “I’m Eric…Eric Bana. I’m sorry, you said boyfriend, didn’t you?”

“I did. Answer me something, Eric,” Billy took a breath, and steeled himself for an answer. “Is my baby cheating on me?”

Silence.

“Eric, please answer me.”

“Yes, he is.”

Billy felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“I-I’m sorry, but, my mouth just went…all dry.”

Billy staggered towards the fridge.

“I didn’t know he was...seeing anyone.”

Billy fell back against the island, a bottler of whiskey clutched triumphantly in his left hand.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Billy took a swig of the burning amber liquid. The thought of drowning suddenly seemed very appealing. “How long have…”

“We’ve been together since July.” Came the meek response.

Billy took a gulp of air. “Ju-July?” It was nearly October.

“I am sorry, Billy. I honestly didn’t know.”

Billy took another swig. “No, of course you didn’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with Jack Daniels. Sorry if I’ve ruined your evening.”

Yes, drowning seemed like a most excellent idea. Billy noticed an opened pack of Sean’s clove cigarettes by the stove. Billy had always told him not to leave them there; one of these days Sean would be solely responsible for burning down the entire building. Billy never smoked, only when the occasion called for it.

He lit up, without missing a beat. His cheeks hollow, as he takes a long drag at it. The taste of cloves and whiskey is a heady combination. He feels drowsy, and oddly peaceful.

Billy exhales, watching the smoke curl up towards the ceiling. Billy knows he’s there.

“You aren’t really going to the gym, are you?”

PAPER OR PLASTIC - PROLOGUE

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PAPER OR PLASTIC - PROLOGUE

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