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fellowshippers2004-10-31 01:19 am
sophrosyne31.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-10-31 01:19 am
Progression, part 11 of the Schmoop Series
Title: Progression
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sophrosyne31
Pairing: Dom/Billy and hah, visitors
Rating: M
Disclaimer: if I weren't such an idle waster, I wouldn't have written this fiction
Feedback: will help Dom and Billy very much
A/N: this is, of course, in the schmoop series
There’s a terrible furore under the bed. Not only is the bed very low-hung, but the dingy space beneath its saggy mattress is absolutely jammed with naked hobbits and an elf. The elf’s legs are particularly bothersome, as they are so very long. In the ruck, in the dark, in the dust and the horror of what ensues, some people actually think bad things about Orlando and his knobbly fucking knees and flailing fucking arms and pointy fucking chin.
“You’re on my—“
“OW! That was my—“
“For fuck’s sake, get off my—“
There’s bumping and joggling and biffing. Knees jerk into noses, thighs twine around throats. Eventually Billy disentangles himself and crawls out towards the light with his elbows. “This is so fucking far from erotic, I can’t even—“ he’s muttering as he clambers to clear ground. Behind him the sooky wailing of protests continues. Somewhere in there he can hear Dom, reasonably explaining to Elijah that this is not the best situation for trying ‘the wheelbarrow’, and Elijah butting in that it’s just that someone told him it’s the wildest position, sure it takes strength but it feels incredible—
Billy slyly reaches up and opens one of the drawers in the night-stand. He takes out a small silver flask and has a tot of stiff liquor. Bolstered greatly, plunges back into the melee.
Under the bed things have progressed somewhat. Orlando—Billy fumbles to feel around—Orlando has resumed his habitual sucking of someone’s tongue (Billy’s fingers meet a horrid warm wet squishiness); Elijah’s face is somewhere around Sean’s thigh (Billy’s fingers discern the robust flesh of Sean, and the coarse hair of a thigh); Dom has wriggled himself in between all of them and is idly stroking someone’s buttocks (Billy snatches Dom’s hand away and holds it very tightly).
“Now this is something we’ve never tried,” says Dom.
“That’s because under the bed is where you’ve chucked some used condoms, my darling, and I know you’ve never vacuumed,” mutters Billy, sotto voce.
“EWWWWW!” says Dom, and shoots out from under the bed. It takes some doing, but Billy biffs off various groping hands and frees himself.
“So we’re back where we were ten minutes ago,” he observes, with no little pointedness. “Our under-the-bed is still infested, we still have a huge mess in our bloody bed, and frankly, Dommie, I’m desperate for a quiet shag and a nice kip.”
Dom caresses the back of Billy’s neck tenderly, where the hair has frizzed up over his nape, and smoothes every strand down into place. His other hand rubs Billy’s penis gently.
“I know a nice bathtub,” he offers. “How about if I line it with blankets and pillows—I can make us a cuppa—“
“No fucking tea,” says Billy mournfully. He leans his head back into Dom’s palm.
“—Doesn’t matter, I’ll brew up a bit of orange peel—and I’ll tuck us in, all comfy-like—we can even drag the telly in and watch a bit of footy—“
Billy turns himself tighter into Dom’s solid embrace. He rubs up against Dom’s chest. “Really?”
“Forget these losers. I mean, what type of depraved fuckwits have sex under the bed? We’ll just tiptoe away on our tippy-toes and make ourselves a little cave. Nice and snug and equipped with all the conveniences of modern bathroom living. ”
Billy kisses Dom on the nose. “You’re the best.”
“I am. Did you see—hey, did you see that karate chop I got in on Orlando? Right in the prat’s skinny shin!” Dom bounces. Billy’s head bounces against Dom.
There’s a muffled protest from under the bed. That was my penis, you shit—
Billy and Dom ignore it. “Now, where’s my superhero hat?” Dom asks. “If I’m going to be the best, I need the hat. Also, if I wear it when I make the tea, it tastes better. True fact.”
Billy casts around. “I think Sean had it. I distinctly saw him pulling something over his eyes at one point.”
From under the bed he hears Sean say, “Now this is a hell of a situation—“
Dom looks brave. “Never mind, I’ll make do. Now, for some blankets—“ He starts yanking crumpled bits of green plaid off the bed.
There’s yet another knock at the door, then the sound of hinges swinging open. Once more, Billy and Dom freeze in horror.
Ian’s voice sings out. “Boys? Oh, boys?”
“This has surely got to end some time,” says Billy, and rests his face deeply against Dom’s chest. “Because if I don’t get to stick my cock in you soon, Dommie, I think I might cry.”
Dom’s desperately patting Billy’s re-frizzing hair when Ian pokes his elegant face around the bedroom door.
“I brought tea,” Ian says, smiling hopefully.
Billy whimpers—whether in dread or relief, Dom can’t tell. But he does feel an erection stiffen against his hip.
Author:
sophrosyne31Pairing: Dom/Billy and hah, visitors
Rating: M
Disclaimer: if I weren't such an idle waster, I wouldn't have written this fiction
Feedback: will help Dom and Billy very much
A/N: this is, of course, in the schmoop series
There’s a terrible furore under the bed. Not only is the bed very low-hung, but the dingy space beneath its saggy mattress is absolutely jammed with naked hobbits and an elf. The elf’s legs are particularly bothersome, as they are so very long. In the ruck, in the dark, in the dust and the horror of what ensues, some people actually think bad things about Orlando and his knobbly fucking knees and flailing fucking arms and pointy fucking chin.
“You’re on my—“
“OW! That was my—“
“For fuck’s sake, get off my—“
There’s bumping and joggling and biffing. Knees jerk into noses, thighs twine around throats. Eventually Billy disentangles himself and crawls out towards the light with his elbows. “This is so fucking far from erotic, I can’t even—“ he’s muttering as he clambers to clear ground. Behind him the sooky wailing of protests continues. Somewhere in there he can hear Dom, reasonably explaining to Elijah that this is not the best situation for trying ‘the wheelbarrow’, and Elijah butting in that it’s just that someone told him it’s the wildest position, sure it takes strength but it feels incredible—
Billy slyly reaches up and opens one of the drawers in the night-stand. He takes out a small silver flask and has a tot of stiff liquor. Bolstered greatly, plunges back into the melee.
Under the bed things have progressed somewhat. Orlando—Billy fumbles to feel around—Orlando has resumed his habitual sucking of someone’s tongue (Billy’s fingers meet a horrid warm wet squishiness); Elijah’s face is somewhere around Sean’s thigh (Billy’s fingers discern the robust flesh of Sean, and the coarse hair of a thigh); Dom has wriggled himself in between all of them and is idly stroking someone’s buttocks (Billy snatches Dom’s hand away and holds it very tightly).
“Now this is something we’ve never tried,” says Dom.
“That’s because under the bed is where you’ve chucked some used condoms, my darling, and I know you’ve never vacuumed,” mutters Billy, sotto voce.
“EWWWWW!” says Dom, and shoots out from under the bed. It takes some doing, but Billy biffs off various groping hands and frees himself.
“So we’re back where we were ten minutes ago,” he observes, with no little pointedness. “Our under-the-bed is still infested, we still have a huge mess in our bloody bed, and frankly, Dommie, I’m desperate for a quiet shag and a nice kip.”
Dom caresses the back of Billy’s neck tenderly, where the hair has frizzed up over his nape, and smoothes every strand down into place. His other hand rubs Billy’s penis gently.
“I know a nice bathtub,” he offers. “How about if I line it with blankets and pillows—I can make us a cuppa—“
“No fucking tea,” says Billy mournfully. He leans his head back into Dom’s palm.
“—Doesn’t matter, I’ll brew up a bit of orange peel—and I’ll tuck us in, all comfy-like—we can even drag the telly in and watch a bit of footy—“
Billy turns himself tighter into Dom’s solid embrace. He rubs up against Dom’s chest. “Really?”
“Forget these losers. I mean, what type of depraved fuckwits have sex under the bed? We’ll just tiptoe away on our tippy-toes and make ourselves a little cave. Nice and snug and equipped with all the conveniences of modern bathroom living. ”
Billy kisses Dom on the nose. “You’re the best.”
“I am. Did you see—hey, did you see that karate chop I got in on Orlando? Right in the prat’s skinny shin!” Dom bounces. Billy’s head bounces against Dom.
There’s a muffled protest from under the bed. That was my penis, you shit—
Billy and Dom ignore it. “Now, where’s my superhero hat?” Dom asks. “If I’m going to be the best, I need the hat. Also, if I wear it when I make the tea, it tastes better. True fact.”
Billy casts around. “I think Sean had it. I distinctly saw him pulling something over his eyes at one point.”
From under the bed he hears Sean say, “Now this is a hell of a situation—“
Dom looks brave. “Never mind, I’ll make do. Now, for some blankets—“ He starts yanking crumpled bits of green plaid off the bed.
There’s yet another knock at the door, then the sound of hinges swinging open. Once more, Billy and Dom freeze in horror.
Ian’s voice sings out. “Boys? Oh, boys?”
“This has surely got to end some time,” says Billy, and rests his face deeply against Dom’s chest. “Because if I don’t get to stick my cock in you soon, Dommie, I think I might cry.”
Dom’s desperately patting Billy’s re-frizzing hair when Ian pokes his elegant face around the bedroom door.
“I brought tea,” Ian says, smiling hopefully.
Billy whimpers—whether in dread or relief, Dom can’t tell. But he does feel an erection stiffen against his hip.