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fellowshippers2004-11-20 01:40 am
apple-pi.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-11-20 01:40 am
The Problem
Disclaimer: If this really happened, then I am also a lottery winner! *looks around, waiting for money to fall from the sky* Oh, well. So I guess this isn't true, either.
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: NC-17 (or probably really R, I err on the side of caution)
Summary: Billy thinks too much, and Dom thinks too little, and it could never, ever work.
Warnings: Un-beta'd.
Feedback: Earns you more porn!
A/N: Came outta nowhere. Typed it really fast, probably tons of mistakes, happy to hear about 'em. Oh yeah: Someone else used the term "curlicue" for Billy's mouth, and I can't remember who, but my god, I fell in love with it. And *hangs head* I stole it. Please speak up so I can lavishwhipped cream thanks on you!
The Problem
The problem, as Billy sees it, is that he is completely out of control.
Not only does he want to molest Dom twenty-four hours a day, eight days a week, but he thinks--oh shite. He is pretty sure he is in love with him. There are so many potential mindfucks with this situation that Billy's brain just veers right away from it every time he decides to deal with it, at least internally. Come to a goddam decision, am I, aren't I--it would be nice if he could at least tell the truth in his own fucking head.
Billy is reasonably sure that Dom is not in love with him in return.
Billy has not been choosy about men versus women in a long time--he learned at some point along the way that he could be quite happy with either (or both!), ta-very-much, which means he has quite a large pool of potential partners to swim in. But Billy has only ever been in love with women before. One woman, actually, and it was a long time ago--long enough ago that she was a girl, really, and he was just a lad. But this thing, this intensity he feels with Dom, it has that same desperate, painful, teenaged angsty bullshit feeling about it, and Billy wants to fucking hang himself every time he notices it. Which is quite often, lately anyway.
It's all so confusing--adolescent and stupid and very confusing.
He doesn't think the brain-melting quality of their sex is clouding his judgment--surely a 33-year-old man can differentiate between love and lust. Right? Right. Certainly. Or not... Because whenever he thinks of Dom's back, slick and muscular and narrow, arched in front of him as he pushes hard into his tight hot body, Billy gets hard, and sometimes (Christ) his hands shake slightly. Or when he thinks of the way Dom likes to curl behind him and enter him as they lie on their sides, fingers digging into Billy's shoulders, teeth on the nape of his neck... Well, it has pretty much the same effect.
Dom doesn't say Billy's name when he comes.
Dead giveaway, that. If Dom was in love with Billy, he would say his name then, wouldn't he? Yes, he would. Because that's what lovers do, they say, "Oh Dom--" whoops, "Oh, Billy" (fuckfuckfuck) as they come. Billy sometimes nearly strangles, trying not to gasp Dom's name over and over with the rhythm of his thrusts (or Dom's thrusts). And sometimes he pushes his face into the pillow, afterward, when they're both falling asleep, because he wants to murmur Dom's name then: Dominic, just say it, the three syllables could spill from the tongue so lightly, but Billy doesn't let them, because... because Dom doesn't. Doesn't love him.
Billy can't look at Dom too much when they are out together.
Billy is afraid if he looks at Dom when they are out in public, the papers will announce it: "Actor Billy Boyd, yearning toward fellow Hobbit Dominic Monaghan." When he does look at Dom, Billy paints on an expression of polite interest, cheerful attention. It is an expression that looks good on Billy's face, and it is autopilot (years and years and years of pretending to listen to his Gran, his sister, his bosses, his teachers, his directors).
When they are alone, Billy doesn't meet Dom's eyes too often. It would be too intimate.
He looks at Dom's hands (they are elegant, despite the way Dom abuses them, with graffiti and leather and nail polish), or his ears (god, Billy loves Dom's goofy ears, they are eminently bitable, and make good handles, too), or his mouth (Dom's mouth is nasty and sweet and rude and hard and soft). He looks at Dom's body, too--they are the same size, but built so differently. Billy is compact and tidy, Dom is rangy and looks unfinished, just a bit--arms and legs too long, bony hips, slat-ribs; his shoulders are too wide, is what it is, for his skinny muscular body. Dom is delicious.
Billy is too old for Dom, really.
How pathetic it is--he is nearly ten years older than Dom, and it is not just the years, it is the lives they have led. Scottish council houses and Mancunian schools are just the start of it. Dom is a wild young man, and there is no way he could be interested in being harnessed to Billy, who is, when it comes down to it, a funny, sane little man who lives a dull life. Billy doesn't want to be that guy, the old fag who gloms onto a hot young thing and then finds himself lonely and bitter and it's no one's fault but his own. Okay, 33 is not really old, but it is older than Dom, that's for fucking sure, and Billy is not getting any younger. He loves to take chances, to learn new things, but one thing Billy does not need to learn is how heartbreak feels. He knows that already. No one needs to explain it to him, especially not Dom.
The problem, as Billy sees it, is that he thinks too much, and Dom thinks too little, and it could never, ever work.
* * * * *
The problem, as Dom sees it, is that he is completely out of control.
Not only does he want to back Billy up against a wall and rub against him for the next, say, decade, but he thinks--ah, shite. He is pretty sure he is in love with him. This is such a potential disaster that Dom's mind just shuts down whenever he tries to deal with it, even just in his head. Stop being such a fucking coward, tell him or don't, fall or move on--it would be nice if he could at least tell the truth in his own screwed-up head.
Dom is reasonably sure that Billy is not in love with him in return.
Dom has been in love, at least a hundred times, with all kinds of people. He doesn't care if his lovers are men or women, he doesn't care if they are girly men or manly women. He has been in love with men and women, but he has never been in love with someone like Billy, and it is making his head try to explode, because it feels so different. He's had sex with guys who were friends, but never been in love with one of them. He's become friends with someone he'd started out just fucking, but the friendship usually came after the fucking ended. He couldn't stand to lose Billy as a friend, is sure he'll go into withdrawal if the fucking ended.
It's all so confusing--adolescent and stupid and very confusing.
He doesn't think the brain-melting quality of their sex is clouding his judgment--surely a 25-year-old man can differentiate between love and lust. Right? Right. Certainly. Or not... Because whenever Dom thinks of Billy's voice, the high-pitched sounds he makes when Dom is pounding into him, Dom gets hard, and (pathetic git) his ears turn bright red. Or when he thinks of how Billy likes to sit him up and push his legs back ("Love that yoga," Billy whispers) and slide into him, tight and slow and not gentle at all, not really, no... Well, it has pretty much the same effect.
Billy doesn't say Dom's name when he comes.
Dead giveaway, that. If Billy was in love with Dom, he would say his name then, wouldn't he? Yes, he would. Because that's what lovers do, they say, "Oh Billy--" whoops, "Oh, Dom" (fuckfuckfuck) as they come. Sometimes Dom has to bite something--his hand, or Billy's neck--to keep himself from chanting Billy's name as he thrusts into him. And sometimes he gets up after Billy has fallen asleep, gets up and goes into the kitchen or anywhere Billy is not, because he wants to slide his fingers through Billy's hair and whisper his name: Billy, Bills, Bill. Mine. But he doesn't, because... Billy doesn't. Doesn't love him.
Dom can't stop looking at Billy when they are out together.
He has seen so many pictures (public pictures!) of himself staring at Billy that he is astounded not to have seen the headline: "Actor Dominic Monaghan, totally ass-over-elbows in love with fellow Hobbit Billy Boyd." He is adept at covering it when Billy turns his head to look at him. Then Dom cracks a joke, or pinches Billy or punches him or (sometimes) leaps on him. It works for him, and it is autopilot (years and years and years of too much energy, too much affection, built-in ability to irritate and charm with only his physical presence).
When they are alone, Dom doesn't meet Billy's eyes too often. It would be too intimate.
He looks instead at Billy's chest, the soft fur there, not too thick, just enough to really twist your tongue in, pull with your teeth and get a curse or a twitch in response. He looks at Billy's mouth, Jesus Christ he adores Billy's mouth, curlicue corners and small white teeth, the depth and length of his filtrum (Dom licks it so much he has its taste and feel memorized, muscle memory in his tongue, a novel experience). He loves how Billy's mouth hangs open a little when he is concentrating, like when he plays guitar or listens closely to a joke or relaxes so Dom can enter him. Billy is delicious.
Billy is too old for Dom, really.
Why would someone as experienced and intelligent and fucking wise as Billy want to get involved with Dom? What can Dom offer him that he doesn't already know? It is not just the years, there are only eight of those, anyway. It is the way their years have been lived. Dom has had bumps in his life, some of them pretty rough, but compared to Billy he is raw, a newbie, a puppy with exactly no experience of actual Life with a capital L. Dom doesn't want to be left for someone smarter, someone deeper, someone who is quiet and mature and able to sit still for more than five minutes straight. He loves to take chances, to learn new things, but one thing Dom does not need to learn is how heartbreak feels. He knows that already. No one needs to explain it to him, especially not Billy.
The problem, as Dom sees it, is that he doesn't think enough, and Billy thinks too much, and it could never, ever work.
~end~
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: NC-17 (or probably really R, I err on the side of caution)
Summary: Billy thinks too much, and Dom thinks too little, and it could never, ever work.
Warnings: Un-beta'd.
Feedback: Earns you more porn!
A/N: Came outta nowhere. Typed it really fast, probably tons of mistakes, happy to hear about 'em. Oh yeah: Someone else used the term "curlicue" for Billy's mouth, and I can't remember who, but my god, I fell in love with it. And *hangs head* I stole it. Please speak up so I can lavish
The Problem
The problem, as Billy sees it, is that he is completely out of control.
Not only does he want to molest Dom twenty-four hours a day, eight days a week, but he thinks--oh shite. He is pretty sure he is in love with him. There are so many potential mindfucks with this situation that Billy's brain just veers right away from it every time he decides to deal with it, at least internally. Come to a goddam decision, am I, aren't I--it would be nice if he could at least tell the truth in his own fucking head.
Billy is reasonably sure that Dom is not in love with him in return.
Billy has not been choosy about men versus women in a long time--he learned at some point along the way that he could be quite happy with either (or both!), ta-very-much, which means he has quite a large pool of potential partners to swim in. But Billy has only ever been in love with women before. One woman, actually, and it was a long time ago--long enough ago that she was a girl, really, and he was just a lad. But this thing, this intensity he feels with Dom, it has that same desperate, painful, teenaged angsty bullshit feeling about it, and Billy wants to fucking hang himself every time he notices it. Which is quite often, lately anyway.
It's all so confusing--adolescent and stupid and very confusing.
He doesn't think the brain-melting quality of their sex is clouding his judgment--surely a 33-year-old man can differentiate between love and lust. Right? Right. Certainly. Or not... Because whenever he thinks of Dom's back, slick and muscular and narrow, arched in front of him as he pushes hard into his tight hot body, Billy gets hard, and sometimes (Christ) his hands shake slightly. Or when he thinks of the way Dom likes to curl behind him and enter him as they lie on their sides, fingers digging into Billy's shoulders, teeth on the nape of his neck... Well, it has pretty much the same effect.
Dom doesn't say Billy's name when he comes.
Dead giveaway, that. If Dom was in love with Billy, he would say his name then, wouldn't he? Yes, he would. Because that's what lovers do, they say, "Oh Dom--" whoops, "Oh, Billy" (fuckfuckfuck) as they come. Billy sometimes nearly strangles, trying not to gasp Dom's name over and over with the rhythm of his thrusts (or Dom's thrusts). And sometimes he pushes his face into the pillow, afterward, when they're both falling asleep, because he wants to murmur Dom's name then: Dominic, just say it, the three syllables could spill from the tongue so lightly, but Billy doesn't let them, because... because Dom doesn't. Doesn't love him.
Billy can't look at Dom too much when they are out together.
Billy is afraid if he looks at Dom when they are out in public, the papers will announce it: "Actor Billy Boyd, yearning toward fellow Hobbit Dominic Monaghan." When he does look at Dom, Billy paints on an expression of polite interest, cheerful attention. It is an expression that looks good on Billy's face, and it is autopilot (years and years and years of pretending to listen to his Gran, his sister, his bosses, his teachers, his directors).
When they are alone, Billy doesn't meet Dom's eyes too often. It would be too intimate.
He looks at Dom's hands (they are elegant, despite the way Dom abuses them, with graffiti and leather and nail polish), or his ears (god, Billy loves Dom's goofy ears, they are eminently bitable, and make good handles, too), or his mouth (Dom's mouth is nasty and sweet and rude and hard and soft). He looks at Dom's body, too--they are the same size, but built so differently. Billy is compact and tidy, Dom is rangy and looks unfinished, just a bit--arms and legs too long, bony hips, slat-ribs; his shoulders are too wide, is what it is, for his skinny muscular body. Dom is delicious.
Billy is too old for Dom, really.
How pathetic it is--he is nearly ten years older than Dom, and it is not just the years, it is the lives they have led. Scottish council houses and Mancunian schools are just the start of it. Dom is a wild young man, and there is no way he could be interested in being harnessed to Billy, who is, when it comes down to it, a funny, sane little man who lives a dull life. Billy doesn't want to be that guy, the old fag who gloms onto a hot young thing and then finds himself lonely and bitter and it's no one's fault but his own. Okay, 33 is not really old, but it is older than Dom, that's for fucking sure, and Billy is not getting any younger. He loves to take chances, to learn new things, but one thing Billy does not need to learn is how heartbreak feels. He knows that already. No one needs to explain it to him, especially not Dom.
The problem, as Billy sees it, is that he thinks too much, and Dom thinks too little, and it could never, ever work.
* * * * *
The problem, as Dom sees it, is that he is completely out of control.
Not only does he want to back Billy up against a wall and rub against him for the next, say, decade, but he thinks--ah, shite. He is pretty sure he is in love with him. This is such a potential disaster that Dom's mind just shuts down whenever he tries to deal with it, even just in his head. Stop being such a fucking coward, tell him or don't, fall or move on--it would be nice if he could at least tell the truth in his own screwed-up head.
Dom is reasonably sure that Billy is not in love with him in return.
Dom has been in love, at least a hundred times, with all kinds of people. He doesn't care if his lovers are men or women, he doesn't care if they are girly men or manly women. He has been in love with men and women, but he has never been in love with someone like Billy, and it is making his head try to explode, because it feels so different. He's had sex with guys who were friends, but never been in love with one of them. He's become friends with someone he'd started out just fucking, but the friendship usually came after the fucking ended. He couldn't stand to lose Billy as a friend, is sure he'll go into withdrawal if the fucking ended.
It's all so confusing--adolescent and stupid and very confusing.
He doesn't think the brain-melting quality of their sex is clouding his judgment--surely a 25-year-old man can differentiate between love and lust. Right? Right. Certainly. Or not... Because whenever Dom thinks of Billy's voice, the high-pitched sounds he makes when Dom is pounding into him, Dom gets hard, and (pathetic git) his ears turn bright red. Or when he thinks of how Billy likes to sit him up and push his legs back ("Love that yoga," Billy whispers) and slide into him, tight and slow and not gentle at all, not really, no... Well, it has pretty much the same effect.
Billy doesn't say Dom's name when he comes.
Dead giveaway, that. If Billy was in love with Dom, he would say his name then, wouldn't he? Yes, he would. Because that's what lovers do, they say, "Oh Billy--" whoops, "Oh, Dom" (fuckfuckfuck) as they come. Sometimes Dom has to bite something--his hand, or Billy's neck--to keep himself from chanting Billy's name as he thrusts into him. And sometimes he gets up after Billy has fallen asleep, gets up and goes into the kitchen or anywhere Billy is not, because he wants to slide his fingers through Billy's hair and whisper his name: Billy, Bills, Bill. Mine. But he doesn't, because... Billy doesn't. Doesn't love him.
Dom can't stop looking at Billy when they are out together.
He has seen so many pictures (public pictures!) of himself staring at Billy that he is astounded not to have seen the headline: "Actor Dominic Monaghan, totally ass-over-elbows in love with fellow Hobbit Billy Boyd." He is adept at covering it when Billy turns his head to look at him. Then Dom cracks a joke, or pinches Billy or punches him or (sometimes) leaps on him. It works for him, and it is autopilot (years and years and years of too much energy, too much affection, built-in ability to irritate and charm with only his physical presence).
When they are alone, Dom doesn't meet Billy's eyes too often. It would be too intimate.
He looks instead at Billy's chest, the soft fur there, not too thick, just enough to really twist your tongue in, pull with your teeth and get a curse or a twitch in response. He looks at Billy's mouth, Jesus Christ he adores Billy's mouth, curlicue corners and small white teeth, the depth and length of his filtrum (Dom licks it so much he has its taste and feel memorized, muscle memory in his tongue, a novel experience). He loves how Billy's mouth hangs open a little when he is concentrating, like when he plays guitar or listens closely to a joke or relaxes so Dom can enter him. Billy is delicious.
Billy is too old for Dom, really.
Why would someone as experienced and intelligent and fucking wise as Billy want to get involved with Dom? What can Dom offer him that he doesn't already know? It is not just the years, there are only eight of those, anyway. It is the way their years have been lived. Dom has had bumps in his life, some of them pretty rough, but compared to Billy he is raw, a newbie, a puppy with exactly no experience of actual Life with a capital L. Dom doesn't want to be left for someone smarter, someone deeper, someone who is quiet and mature and able to sit still for more than five minutes straight. He loves to take chances, to learn new things, but one thing Dom does not need to learn is how heartbreak feels. He knows that already. No one needs to explain it to him, especially not Billy.
The problem, as Dom sees it, is that he doesn't think enough, and Billy thinks too much, and it could never, ever work.
~end~