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fellowshippers2004-10-02 11:56 pm
sophrosyne31.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-10-02 11:56 pm
Happenstance, Dom/Billy schmoop-fest part 7
Title: Happenstance
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sophrosyne31
Pairing: Dom/Billy plus guests
Rating: M
Disclaimer: clearly, this is the fictional result of my orange cordial addiction
Feedback: is probably just going to encourage me, at this point
A/N: yes, this follows from the rest.
Even the sex doesn’t unfrizz Billy’s bad hair. He and Dom make quite the mess in the bathroom; oozing tubes of shaving cream, sudsy bars of soap and a clutter of hairpins (“Left over from the wig, the wig” insists Billy) are astray all over the floor by the time they finish up. Dom’s bottom is rosy with joy and Billy’s nipples are surrounded by delicate bite marks which he strokes proudly as he marches back into the bedroom, Dom tagging behind.
“Right, you can all fuck off,” Billy says.
“We’re asleep,” observes Sean, rightly. He’s managing to snore even as he speaks, which seems a typical Sean multi-tasking attribute. Elijah’s feet wiggle in a dream and he lets out a little angelic fart. Orlando’s flat on his back across the foot of the bed with his mouth open, still looking absurdly beautiful even with drool on his chin.
“Right the fuck now,” peeps Dom over Billy’s shoulder. “We need our bed back.”
A long arm in a flannel shirt reaches over the sheets and Viggo’s magisterial head is revealed, finally sans hat. “Shut up and go away, and I mean that kindly,” slurs Viggo. He burps, to make the point.
Billy steps back, astonished. “The fucking nerve!” he yelps.
Dom raises his fist and shakes it feebly. He stops to give Billy a quick intense smooch on the lips and the two of them exchange a brave look before they rush forward into battle.
Billy tugs at a random foot; Dom’s busy hauling at Orlando, who wakes up but seems not at all surprised to find someone grabbing his leg, and merely raises a hand to cover a yawn.
“It’s my bed and you’re all nasty invaders, you meanies,” sobs Billy, yanking helplessly at the foot. It seems to belong to Sean, who mews miserably, thus waking Elijah, whose startled arm whacks Viggo in the nose. Viggo rises, terribly.
“Is this really necessary? I’m a pacifist,” he protests.
“You’re a colonist,” says Dom, happily wrapping himself around Orlando in an effort to shift him. “And Billy says you have to get lost.”
Just then there’s a cheerful bellow from the bedroom door. The fracas halts rather suddenly.
“Fantastic! A game of British Bulldog!” roars Bernard.
Dom sees tears spring up in Billy’s eyes (or possibly that’s from the lingering smell of Elijah’s fart) and he springs to the door to head Bernard off.
“No room at the inn—“ he starts, but he’s swung up onto a meaty shoulder and Bernard bounces into the room.
“Billeeeeeeeeee!”
“Did you bring any food?” shouts Elijah.
Viggo’s already smirking. “Bern’s the man,” he says. “How nice of you to come by,” and he stretches out to shake Bernard’s free hand.
“I bring mandarins, I bring jam rolls, and I bring booze,” says Bernard, and he puts Dom down (right on top of everyone else) and swings a plastic bag into view. “And I bring dancing music!”
There’s a chorus of huzzahs.
Billy tweaks at Dom’s bewildered shoulder. “I think it’s time to abandon camp,” he says.
“But we’re completely naked!” Dom whispers.
“I fucking don’t fucking think I fucking care,” hisses Billy. “This place is no longer comfy.”
Dom says, “But, but—Bernard’s got booze,” and he tweaks Billy’s chin back, pleading.
“Dom,” says Billy, “are you with me?”
Dom smiles all smooshily at him. “I’m with you,” he says. And he straddles Orlando’s hips to clamber off. Orlando bucks up, out of instinct, and then opens his eyes. “Oh, it’s you,” he mumbles, and falls back asleep.
Elijah’s ripping open the packet of jam rolls and Viggo’s doing some kind of male bonding with Bernard. Sean’s got his hands over his ears, chanting some kind of soothing mantra. Dom and Billy sneak away.
“Oh Dom, I like you when you’re all naked and fugitive,” says Billy as they prepare to climb out the kitchen window.
“Oh Billy, I like it when you’re so commando,” says Dom. They bump bottoms in a comradely fashion and grin at each other.
“A-one, a-two, a—“
“And where do you think you’re going?” booms Bernard behind them.
Two small men with red bottoms and redder faces turn around.
“Out to get some milk?” offers Dom.
Billy pinches his nipple and he falls silent.
“Come on, lads, there’s no need to run away,” says Bernard kindly. “I’m here as a decoy. We’ll have your bed back soon,” and he lays an avuncular and yet not entirely unattractive hand on Billy’s shoulder.
Everyone troops back to the bedroom. The day is getting on, and when Sean holds out half a jam roll and a slice of orange, Dom takes it. Billy takes a long slug of whiskey from the bottle.
There’s nothing for it but to get back into bed. Bernard’s Cuban dance music makes them all jiggle just a bit.
Author:
sophrosyne31Pairing: Dom/Billy plus guests
Rating: M
Disclaimer: clearly, this is the fictional result of my orange cordial addiction
Feedback: is probably just going to encourage me, at this point
A/N: yes, this follows from the rest.
Even the sex doesn’t unfrizz Billy’s bad hair. He and Dom make quite the mess in the bathroom; oozing tubes of shaving cream, sudsy bars of soap and a clutter of hairpins (“Left over from the wig, the wig” insists Billy) are astray all over the floor by the time they finish up. Dom’s bottom is rosy with joy and Billy’s nipples are surrounded by delicate bite marks which he strokes proudly as he marches back into the bedroom, Dom tagging behind.
“Right, you can all fuck off,” Billy says.
“We’re asleep,” observes Sean, rightly. He’s managing to snore even as he speaks, which seems a typical Sean multi-tasking attribute. Elijah’s feet wiggle in a dream and he lets out a little angelic fart. Orlando’s flat on his back across the foot of the bed with his mouth open, still looking absurdly beautiful even with drool on his chin.
“Right the fuck now,” peeps Dom over Billy’s shoulder. “We need our bed back.”
A long arm in a flannel shirt reaches over the sheets and Viggo’s magisterial head is revealed, finally sans hat. “Shut up and go away, and I mean that kindly,” slurs Viggo. He burps, to make the point.
Billy steps back, astonished. “The fucking nerve!” he yelps.
Dom raises his fist and shakes it feebly. He stops to give Billy a quick intense smooch on the lips and the two of them exchange a brave look before they rush forward into battle.
Billy tugs at a random foot; Dom’s busy hauling at Orlando, who wakes up but seems not at all surprised to find someone grabbing his leg, and merely raises a hand to cover a yawn.
“It’s my bed and you’re all nasty invaders, you meanies,” sobs Billy, yanking helplessly at the foot. It seems to belong to Sean, who mews miserably, thus waking Elijah, whose startled arm whacks Viggo in the nose. Viggo rises, terribly.
“Is this really necessary? I’m a pacifist,” he protests.
“You’re a colonist,” says Dom, happily wrapping himself around Orlando in an effort to shift him. “And Billy says you have to get lost.”
Just then there’s a cheerful bellow from the bedroom door. The fracas halts rather suddenly.
“Fantastic! A game of British Bulldog!” roars Bernard.
Dom sees tears spring up in Billy’s eyes (or possibly that’s from the lingering smell of Elijah’s fart) and he springs to the door to head Bernard off.
“No room at the inn—“ he starts, but he’s swung up onto a meaty shoulder and Bernard bounces into the room.
“Billeeeeeeeeee!”
“Did you bring any food?” shouts Elijah.
Viggo’s already smirking. “Bern’s the man,” he says. “How nice of you to come by,” and he stretches out to shake Bernard’s free hand.
“I bring mandarins, I bring jam rolls, and I bring booze,” says Bernard, and he puts Dom down (right on top of everyone else) and swings a plastic bag into view. “And I bring dancing music!”
There’s a chorus of huzzahs.
Billy tweaks at Dom’s bewildered shoulder. “I think it’s time to abandon camp,” he says.
“But we’re completely naked!” Dom whispers.
“I fucking don’t fucking think I fucking care,” hisses Billy. “This place is no longer comfy.”
Dom says, “But, but—Bernard’s got booze,” and he tweaks Billy’s chin back, pleading.
“Dom,” says Billy, “are you with me?”
Dom smiles all smooshily at him. “I’m with you,” he says. And he straddles Orlando’s hips to clamber off. Orlando bucks up, out of instinct, and then opens his eyes. “Oh, it’s you,” he mumbles, and falls back asleep.
Elijah’s ripping open the packet of jam rolls and Viggo’s doing some kind of male bonding with Bernard. Sean’s got his hands over his ears, chanting some kind of soothing mantra. Dom and Billy sneak away.
“Oh Dom, I like you when you’re all naked and fugitive,” says Billy as they prepare to climb out the kitchen window.
“Oh Billy, I like it when you’re so commando,” says Dom. They bump bottoms in a comradely fashion and grin at each other.
“A-one, a-two, a—“
“And where do you think you’re going?” booms Bernard behind them.
Two small men with red bottoms and redder faces turn around.
“Out to get some milk?” offers Dom.
Billy pinches his nipple and he falls silent.
“Come on, lads, there’s no need to run away,” says Bernard kindly. “I’m here as a decoy. We’ll have your bed back soon,” and he lays an avuncular and yet not entirely unattractive hand on Billy’s shoulder.
Everyone troops back to the bedroom. The day is getting on, and when Sean holds out half a jam roll and a slice of orange, Dom takes it. Billy takes a long slug of whiskey from the bottle.
There’s nothing for it but to get back into bed. Bernard’s Cuban dance music makes them all jiggle just a bit.
no subject
It's great to see Bernard! He's hardly ever ficced! All hail Theoden King!
no subject
bernard remains, in part 8. how could i turn away the bernard??
no subject
God you are the queen you really are!. I can't stop laughing!
no subject
glad to keep you happy, especially if you're at college!