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fellowshippers2002-08-23 10:58 pm
kaydeefalls.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2002-08-23 10:58 pm
"Little Things" 3/4
Title: Little Things - Comfort (3/4)
Author: kaydee falls (OneRingDoodle@aol.com, www.livejournal.com/~kaydeefalls)
Pairing: DM/BB, references to OB/EW, DM/OB, DM/EW
Rating: R
Summary: Life sure sucks, huh? Well, at least it can only go up from here.
Archive: TAKE IT. PLEASE... just tell me where
Feedback: is to kaydee as water is to flowers
Disclaimer: none of this happened. i don't know the sexuality of anyone involved.
Notes: I'm fairly certain that Whakapapa exists, if only to amuse me. Thank yous to Tash and Gabby (I sense a pattern here).
I plop onto the couch, flipping the cap off my beer. "Thanks, Billy."
The past few days have been hellish. Fortunately, Elijah is still off shooting somewhere else -- I'm having enough trouble dealing with Orli, let alone HIM. Today was our day off, and Orli and I spent the entire time poking through each other's houses for leftover personal items. Hellish. By the time I rang Billy, I was so desperate for a friendly face that I practically begged him to let me come over to his place.
Billy joins me on the couch. "No problem." He tries to flip the cap of his beer off in the same way, and fails miserably. Instead of cartwheeling gracefully through the air, it just clinks halfheartedly to the floor. He glares at it.
"That was pathetic," I inform him.
"S'not my fault the bloody thing wouldn't fly," Billy insists. "The, ah, aerodynamic condition of the room was unfavorable to the--"
I cut him off. "You're a lousy shot."
He bristles. "As a matter of fact, I am an excellent shot. The cap, on the other hand, was an amateur."
"Don't be daft, all caps are the same. The skill, my friend, lies in the flick of the finger."
"I have a peerless finger flick," he says with dignity. He flicks my shoulder to demonstrate.
I flick him back.
He flicks my nose.
I flick him upside the head.
"Ow," he complains, rubbing the back of his head. "Violent bugger. No wonder Orli left you."
I see Orli again, rubbing the base of his neck after I shoved him into the wall. I take a long swig of beer, turning away. The ale leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I relish it, savoring the harsh tang. It'll take several bottles of this to get me properly pissed, but by the second or third I won't really taste it anymore.
"Sorry," Billy says softly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I didn't mean it that way. I was just joking."
I glance at him. He's got green eyes. I wonder why I never really noticed before. They're nice eyes, so different from a certain pair of rich brown or icy blue... I need to stop thinking while I'm ahead.
"Yeah," I mutter. "I know."
"You ready to talk about it yet?"
I exhale sharply. "What is this unnatural obsession with talking about everything? Christ, you sound like Elijah."
Billy shrugs, sipping at his beer. "I think it's the nature of this shoot," he says cautiously. "If we never got anything out, we'd be at each others' throats. Case in point," he adds, looking pointedly at me.
"I guess," I concede grudgingly. "But talking just leads to all sorts of problems. If I hadn't tried talking to Orli, we'd probably still be together now."
"And if Orli had tried talking to Lijah, he might not have felt the need to shag him," Billy drawls blandly.
I glare at him. "That's not funny."
"'Twasn't supposed to be," he counters. "But Orli likes to use sex as an excuse. Haven't you noticed? Didn't he call off things with his girlfriend because he was shagging you?"
"That's different," I protest. "He was serious with me. With Lij..." My voice trails off. I never even considered that Orli and Lij might really be serious. It was a cruel, vindictive, bitter thing for Orli to do to me, but on the other hand... "Ah, fuck."
Billy is waving his hand impatiently. I always knew the bloke could read my mind. "Don't be ridiculous, of course they're not in love or anything pithy like that. They'd be more open about it if they were, and Lij wouldn't be slinking around like a cat who's not too sure he liked the canary."
"Lij isn't slinking around," I argue. "He's off in Whakapapa or someplace."
He grins. "I love New Zealand names. Whakapapa. Whack. A. Papa." He starts snorting into his beer.
"I'll whack your papa," I mutter. Typical Boyd. Whenever a conversation actually turns serious, he manages to go off on some completely unrelated tangent.
And why am I irritated? I thought I didn't want to talk, anyway.
"I'll flick your papa," Billy replies.
"I'll flick you, you stupid cunt." I do.
And we're at it again, the Return of the Flick Wars. In a particularly involved combination of dodging Billy's wrist and attempting to flick his ear, I somehow manage to topple off the couch. He falls on top of me with a loud "Oof!" Luckily for Billy, he keeps a hold on his beer without spilling a drop. Unluckily for me... well, it's really more unlucky for Billy's rug than for me.
"Oops," I say guiltily, hastily standing the bottle back upright. But the damage has been done. See, if only Billy had a nice floor like Elijah has, then we'd be able to just wipe up the puddle and be done with it. No stain or anything. Ah, fuck, I just made a gratuitous Lij reference, didn't I? And that calls to mind a tangle of Orlijah in a familiar bed, laughing, laughing.... "I'm sorry, Billy," I say, firmly pushing back the images in my head.
It occurs to me that Billy hasn't gotten off of me yet. In fact, he's looking at me. Staring, rather. It's a tad unsettling. "What?" I demand, feeling very self-conscious.
He sits up, pushing himself away from me, rocking back on his heels. "We haven't done that in a while."
What the fuck? "Well, I admit I usually reserve the alcohol spilling for when I'm actually pissed, but--"
"Not that," he says, with his trademark impatient-hand-wave. "Just... messing around. Joking and fighting and whatnot."
"Oh?" I sit up too, now, raising an eyebrow at him. This is Billy. This is Pippin. We're always messing around. It's our sacred, God-given duty to mess around.
He starts peeling off the label on his beer bottle, fingernail nervously prying at the paper. He's so much like Lij, always has to be doing something with his hands. Lij fumbles with cigarettes and bites his nails, Billy talks with his hands and peels off bottle labels. I like little things like that, the nervous energy. Orli was different. Orli only used his hands to grab, or pull, or touch... And Billy's talking, and I should be listening.
"We always used to hang out together," he's saying, and his voice is low and wistful and nervous. "Then you and Orli, er, became close -- but I was happy for you, and it was still all right. But then..." He shrugs. "We're split up for filming most of the time, and you had Orli, and when anything was wrong you went to Lijah." He stares at his now-naked beer bottle, like he's wondering where the label went. Abruptly he looks up at me and pulls me into a crushing hug. "God, I've missed you, Sblomie!"
It's Orli's nickname, and I'm tempted to burst into tears right there. I don't, of course. Instead, I just bury my face in Billy's shoulder and hug him back.
I never quite realized how much I've depended on Lij for comfort. I never even considered going to Billy instead. That was stupid of me. Of course, I never thought that Elijah wouldn't be there.
Christ, I'm such a fucking idiot, and I'm not even sure why.
"S'okay, it'll be all right," Billy murmurs, rubbing my back. He probably thinks I'm crying. I'm not. Please disregard the wet spots on Billy's shoulder.
I pull away, embarrassed, swiping at my face with a sleeve. "I feel like such a girl."
He smiles. "Blokes are allowed to have feelings too, y'know."
"Tell me about it." I prod the new stain on the rug moodily. "I managed to fuck things up pretty thoroughly, didn't I?"
Billy leans back against the couch, half-closing his eyes. "Orli made his share of mistakes, too."
"Yeah."
"He used to say that his girlfriend was smothering him."
I blink at the sudden change of subject. "Er, yeah, he mentioned that a few times."
Billy's eyes really are closed now. "He was afraid he might do the same thing to you. That's why he started backing off in the first place. He thought he was giving you space. I guess you thought he was losing interest."
My mind is spinning. "When--? How do you--?"
"The first night you two really fought. At the pub." He opens his eyes and meets my gaze levelly. "You went to Lijah. He came to me."
"To you? Why?"
He shrugs. "I was your best mate. He assumed I'd understand you better than he did."
"Oh." It makes sense. Sort of. Maybe.
"I told him he was going about it all wrong," Billy continues. "Maybe he would've fixed things, but then he realized you'd gone to Elijah."
I snort bitterly. "Believe me, I already know what he thinks about me and Lij. He's daft."
He sips his beer thoughtfully. "Aye, perhaps, but he may have had reason to panic like he did. He knows how Lijah feels about you."
"How Lijah feels about me?" I was obviously a parrot in a past life.
Billy sighs. "Dom, Elijah has fancied you since practically day one of hobbit training, and almost everyone knows except you."
"Day one was ten months ago."
"I know."
Elijah. High-strung geekboy Elijah. Lightweight drinker Elijah. Comfort buddy Elijah.
*Maybe I did it because I was hoping he would taste like you.*
I haven't let myself think about those words. Now I'm thinking. I'm thinking I need something stronger than beer.
"Why didn't he ever say anything?" I finally croak out.
Judging by the expression on Billy's face, I've just graduated to first rate idiot. "Well, for one, he didn't think you were into blokes. None of us did, actually, until hobbitsnorli suddenly became hobbits and Domlando. And once you and Orli were... well, what was Lij supposed to do, tap you on the shoulder and say, 'hey, by the way, you should be shagging me, not him,' or something?" His voice drips sarcasm.
"Uh, yeah, maybe not." I tug at my ear. "Just as well, I guess. I mean, he's a great kid and all, but I don't, you know, fancy him. In that way. You know."
Billy raises an eyebrow. "Sure," he says, in a tone that suggests the opposite.
I gulp down the little beer remaining in my bottle.
*Lij?*
*Yeah?*
*Y'know I love you, right?*
I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, rubbing my temples. I definitely fucked up somewhere, but now I'm not sure where or how.
"So Orli panicked," Billy says softly. It takes me a second to realize what he's talking about. "You went to Elijah, and Orli didn't think Lij would pass up the opportunity to offer you a different sort of comfort. Nothing happened, I know, you've told me a thousand times. But Orli got scared that something might. So he changed the give-Dom-space plan into a keep-Dom-close one." He smiles wryly. "Too late, I guess. The more he tried to reel you in, the more he pushed you away. Am I right?"
I mutter something affirmative. Billy looks satisfied.
*When did I ever say I loved you?*
*When did I ever say I was the one you love?*
"It hurts," I say quietly. "Even though everything was already falling apart, I didn't think it could hurt this much."
"I'm sorry." Billy's voice is gentler than I've ever heard it. "Anything I can do to help?"
My eyes snap open, and I stare at him.
I've been asked that before. And that was where I fucked up.
Time feels temporarily frozen. I take in the little things -- the sound of my heart beating too quickly, the faint smell of spilt beer coming from the rug, Billy's nice green eyes. Not brown. Not blue. Green.
And I say what I never thought to say to Lij, what I should've said, what Orli did say.
"Yes."
I lean in carefully and kiss him.
He breaks it off, pulling back. Green eyes study my face. "Are you sure about this?"
"I want to stop thinking." I don't add that I'd like to replace thoughts of Orli and Lij tangled up in each other with a few images of my own. "Is that okay with you?"
"Aye. It is."
And we're kissing again, and it just feels so damn good to be kissing someone. Weird, too -- Billy kisses very differently than Orli, and for some reason it's never occurred to me that different guys would taste different. I've been with a number of girls, mind, but Orli was the first bloke I'd ever really fooled around with.
Fooling around, messing around... I wonder if Merry and Pippin ever messed around quite like this.
Kisses are no longer reserved for lips, and that's nice, too, except that we're both wearing too much clothing. Well, that problem's easily solved. This is an interesting trail we're making from couch to bedroom. Orli and I have done it, too, but we didn't have to deal with things like staircases.
I discover that it is, in fact, possible to ascend a staircase backwards while simultaneously removing a pair of jeans and licking someone's neck.
I find Billy's bed without too much difficulty, and am temporarily deprived of his kisses while he rummages through a drawer. In these ten seconds, I have time to think.
'So there,' I think defiantly. Not too sure who that's directed at, but it doesn't matter anymore because Billy found the condoms.
"Who first?" he asks breathlessly.
I don't answer. I'm too busy fumbling with the little packet. Fucking foil crap.
He laughs. "Here, let me." He has significantly less trouble getting the thing open. I express my appreciation in the most practical way possible.
My mind gets a bit hazy at this point, what with the general sensory overload. Thousands of little things compete for my attention, and the only one I can focus on is -- NICE.
'So there,' I manage to think again, and a delicious sense of being avenged passes over me. Then Billy lets out an intriguing little moan, and my brain gives up entirely.
It isn't the most mind-blowingly amazing sex I've ever had, but it'll do nicely.
Gradually, I return to something resembling normal mental capacity. I'm tangled up in Billy, both of us still quivering slightly from the release. I find his mouth and kiss it, a bit sloppily. "Thanks," I murmur.
"My pleasure," he replies warmly, but he's giving me an odd look. "Did you know you were muttering to yourself?"
I'm usually pretty quiet during sex -- unlike Orli, who could wake the dead during our better nights. The loudest I get is a sort of incoherent mumbling commentary, and if I get that far, I'm probably too caught up in the moment to realize I'm saying anything at all.
"It happens," I say cautiously. "Was I?"
He props his chin up in his hand, studying my face. "Aye. D'you know whose name you were calling?"
I feel my ears go hot. "Oh, bloody hell, I'm sorry. I said 'Orli' or something, didn't I?"
"Well, I half expected you to shout his name," Billy admits. "It wouldn't have offended me. I was kinda looking forward to it, actually."
I shoot him a puzzled look.
He smiles lazily. "It's not every day I'm mistaken for a sex god like Orlando Bloom." He winks at me. "But Elijah Wood, on the other hand..."
"I said 'Elijah?'' I ask dumbly.
"Well," he hedges, grinning, "it was more like 'Lij oh God yes Lij fuck now.'"
I bury my face in the pillow.
Billy rubs my back, kissing my neck. "S'okay," he murmurs. "Truth be told, I wasn't thinking of you the whole time, either. But I thought you didn't fancy him."
"I don't," I say automatically, lifting my head to meet his eyes. "Who were you thinking of?"
He smiles to himself. "Maybe some other time."
"C'mon," I wheedle. "It's only fair."
"No."
I sit up, exasperated. "Boyd, you're my best mate and I just fucked you, I think I'm entitled to know who you'd rather have been shagging just now!"
Billy laughs now, pulling me back down. "Don't be daft, Dommie lad," he teases, running a hand down my chest. "I can't think of a better fuckmate." His voice turns more serious. "You make up with Orli and Lijah, and then I'll tell you."
I don't respond, and he sighs, wrapping his arms around me. Eventually, we both drop off.
* * * * *
It's still dark when I wake up. Billy only has one arm slung around me now, and he's snoring lightly. I squint blearily at the bedside clock. 3:00 AM.
This is a new situation for me. What's the etiquette after shagging your best friend for comfort? Specifically, do I go back to sleep now, or leave quietly before he wakes up?
The question resolves itself easily, once I alter it to "Will I be ready to talk about this with him when we get up at 5 AM?"
I am not a morning person. I will not be ready to face Billy until I've showered, dressed, and had several cups of coffee.
It's simple enough to slip out of bed. Billy sleeps like a log. Retrieving my clothing from the hallway and staircase, article by article, is a bit harder. I will never be able to tell the difference between two pairs of boxers.
I manage, somehow. When I get home, my instinct is to go straight to bed and squeeze another hour or so of sleep in. But the light on my answering machine is blinking, and I feel somehow obligated to listen to my message.
"Hi, it's Elijah." I inhale sharply. The recorded version of Lij's voice continues. "Dom, are you there?" A pause. "Okay. Look, I'm really sorry. I just... I'm sorry." Another pause. "Sean and I just got back. Um, I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Please don't avoid me."
The machine beeps off.
Fuck this. I'm completely knackered right now. I'll deal with this later.
As I fall into bed, a vaguely interesting thought passes through my mind.
I feel better, more relaxed. Sex with Billy was very nice indeed. But I'd trade it all away in an instant just to be sitting on Elijah's couch, leaning against him, sipping beer and watching the telly together.
END PART 3/4
Author: kaydee falls (OneRingDoodle@aol.com, www.livejournal.com/~kaydeefalls)
Pairing: DM/BB, references to OB/EW, DM/OB, DM/EW
Rating: R
Summary: Life sure sucks, huh? Well, at least it can only go up from here.
Archive: TAKE IT. PLEASE... just tell me where
Feedback: is to kaydee as water is to flowers
Disclaimer: none of this happened. i don't know the sexuality of anyone involved.
Notes: I'm fairly certain that Whakapapa exists, if only to amuse me. Thank yous to Tash and Gabby (I sense a pattern here).
I plop onto the couch, flipping the cap off my beer. "Thanks, Billy."
The past few days have been hellish. Fortunately, Elijah is still off shooting somewhere else -- I'm having enough trouble dealing with Orli, let alone HIM. Today was our day off, and Orli and I spent the entire time poking through each other's houses for leftover personal items. Hellish. By the time I rang Billy, I was so desperate for a friendly face that I practically begged him to let me come over to his place.
Billy joins me on the couch. "No problem." He tries to flip the cap of his beer off in the same way, and fails miserably. Instead of cartwheeling gracefully through the air, it just clinks halfheartedly to the floor. He glares at it.
"That was pathetic," I inform him.
"S'not my fault the bloody thing wouldn't fly," Billy insists. "The, ah, aerodynamic condition of the room was unfavorable to the--"
I cut him off. "You're a lousy shot."
He bristles. "As a matter of fact, I am an excellent shot. The cap, on the other hand, was an amateur."
"Don't be daft, all caps are the same. The skill, my friend, lies in the flick of the finger."
"I have a peerless finger flick," he says with dignity. He flicks my shoulder to demonstrate.
I flick him back.
He flicks my nose.
I flick him upside the head.
"Ow," he complains, rubbing the back of his head. "Violent bugger. No wonder Orli left you."
I see Orli again, rubbing the base of his neck after I shoved him into the wall. I take a long swig of beer, turning away. The ale leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I relish it, savoring the harsh tang. It'll take several bottles of this to get me properly pissed, but by the second or third I won't really taste it anymore.
"Sorry," Billy says softly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I didn't mean it that way. I was just joking."
I glance at him. He's got green eyes. I wonder why I never really noticed before. They're nice eyes, so different from a certain pair of rich brown or icy blue... I need to stop thinking while I'm ahead.
"Yeah," I mutter. "I know."
"You ready to talk about it yet?"
I exhale sharply. "What is this unnatural obsession with talking about everything? Christ, you sound like Elijah."
Billy shrugs, sipping at his beer. "I think it's the nature of this shoot," he says cautiously. "If we never got anything out, we'd be at each others' throats. Case in point," he adds, looking pointedly at me.
"I guess," I concede grudgingly. "But talking just leads to all sorts of problems. If I hadn't tried talking to Orli, we'd probably still be together now."
"And if Orli had tried talking to Lijah, he might not have felt the need to shag him," Billy drawls blandly.
I glare at him. "That's not funny."
"'Twasn't supposed to be," he counters. "But Orli likes to use sex as an excuse. Haven't you noticed? Didn't he call off things with his girlfriend because he was shagging you?"
"That's different," I protest. "He was serious with me. With Lij..." My voice trails off. I never even considered that Orli and Lij might really be serious. It was a cruel, vindictive, bitter thing for Orli to do to me, but on the other hand... "Ah, fuck."
Billy is waving his hand impatiently. I always knew the bloke could read my mind. "Don't be ridiculous, of course they're not in love or anything pithy like that. They'd be more open about it if they were, and Lij wouldn't be slinking around like a cat who's not too sure he liked the canary."
"Lij isn't slinking around," I argue. "He's off in Whakapapa or someplace."
He grins. "I love New Zealand names. Whakapapa. Whack. A. Papa." He starts snorting into his beer.
"I'll whack your papa," I mutter. Typical Boyd. Whenever a conversation actually turns serious, he manages to go off on some completely unrelated tangent.
And why am I irritated? I thought I didn't want to talk, anyway.
"I'll flick your papa," Billy replies.
"I'll flick you, you stupid cunt." I do.
And we're at it again, the Return of the Flick Wars. In a particularly involved combination of dodging Billy's wrist and attempting to flick his ear, I somehow manage to topple off the couch. He falls on top of me with a loud "Oof!" Luckily for Billy, he keeps a hold on his beer without spilling a drop. Unluckily for me... well, it's really more unlucky for Billy's rug than for me.
"Oops," I say guiltily, hastily standing the bottle back upright. But the damage has been done. See, if only Billy had a nice floor like Elijah has, then we'd be able to just wipe up the puddle and be done with it. No stain or anything. Ah, fuck, I just made a gratuitous Lij reference, didn't I? And that calls to mind a tangle of Orlijah in a familiar bed, laughing, laughing.... "I'm sorry, Billy," I say, firmly pushing back the images in my head.
It occurs to me that Billy hasn't gotten off of me yet. In fact, he's looking at me. Staring, rather. It's a tad unsettling. "What?" I demand, feeling very self-conscious.
He sits up, pushing himself away from me, rocking back on his heels. "We haven't done that in a while."
What the fuck? "Well, I admit I usually reserve the alcohol spilling for when I'm actually pissed, but--"
"Not that," he says, with his trademark impatient-hand-wave. "Just... messing around. Joking and fighting and whatnot."
"Oh?" I sit up too, now, raising an eyebrow at him. This is Billy. This is Pippin. We're always messing around. It's our sacred, God-given duty to mess around.
He starts peeling off the label on his beer bottle, fingernail nervously prying at the paper. He's so much like Lij, always has to be doing something with his hands. Lij fumbles with cigarettes and bites his nails, Billy talks with his hands and peels off bottle labels. I like little things like that, the nervous energy. Orli was different. Orli only used his hands to grab, or pull, or touch... And Billy's talking, and I should be listening.
"We always used to hang out together," he's saying, and his voice is low and wistful and nervous. "Then you and Orli, er, became close -- but I was happy for you, and it was still all right. But then..." He shrugs. "We're split up for filming most of the time, and you had Orli, and when anything was wrong you went to Lijah." He stares at his now-naked beer bottle, like he's wondering where the label went. Abruptly he looks up at me and pulls me into a crushing hug. "God, I've missed you, Sblomie!"
It's Orli's nickname, and I'm tempted to burst into tears right there. I don't, of course. Instead, I just bury my face in Billy's shoulder and hug him back.
I never quite realized how much I've depended on Lij for comfort. I never even considered going to Billy instead. That was stupid of me. Of course, I never thought that Elijah wouldn't be there.
Christ, I'm such a fucking idiot, and I'm not even sure why.
"S'okay, it'll be all right," Billy murmurs, rubbing my back. He probably thinks I'm crying. I'm not. Please disregard the wet spots on Billy's shoulder.
I pull away, embarrassed, swiping at my face with a sleeve. "I feel like such a girl."
He smiles. "Blokes are allowed to have feelings too, y'know."
"Tell me about it." I prod the new stain on the rug moodily. "I managed to fuck things up pretty thoroughly, didn't I?"
Billy leans back against the couch, half-closing his eyes. "Orli made his share of mistakes, too."
"Yeah."
"He used to say that his girlfriend was smothering him."
I blink at the sudden change of subject. "Er, yeah, he mentioned that a few times."
Billy's eyes really are closed now. "He was afraid he might do the same thing to you. That's why he started backing off in the first place. He thought he was giving you space. I guess you thought he was losing interest."
My mind is spinning. "When--? How do you--?"
"The first night you two really fought. At the pub." He opens his eyes and meets my gaze levelly. "You went to Lijah. He came to me."
"To you? Why?"
He shrugs. "I was your best mate. He assumed I'd understand you better than he did."
"Oh." It makes sense. Sort of. Maybe.
"I told him he was going about it all wrong," Billy continues. "Maybe he would've fixed things, but then he realized you'd gone to Elijah."
I snort bitterly. "Believe me, I already know what he thinks about me and Lij. He's daft."
He sips his beer thoughtfully. "Aye, perhaps, but he may have had reason to panic like he did. He knows how Lijah feels about you."
"How Lijah feels about me?" I was obviously a parrot in a past life.
Billy sighs. "Dom, Elijah has fancied you since practically day one of hobbit training, and almost everyone knows except you."
"Day one was ten months ago."
"I know."
Elijah. High-strung geekboy Elijah. Lightweight drinker Elijah. Comfort buddy Elijah.
*Maybe I did it because I was hoping he would taste like you.*
I haven't let myself think about those words. Now I'm thinking. I'm thinking I need something stronger than beer.
"Why didn't he ever say anything?" I finally croak out.
Judging by the expression on Billy's face, I've just graduated to first rate idiot. "Well, for one, he didn't think you were into blokes. None of us did, actually, until hobbitsnorli suddenly became hobbits and Domlando. And once you and Orli were... well, what was Lij supposed to do, tap you on the shoulder and say, 'hey, by the way, you should be shagging me, not him,' or something?" His voice drips sarcasm.
"Uh, yeah, maybe not." I tug at my ear. "Just as well, I guess. I mean, he's a great kid and all, but I don't, you know, fancy him. In that way. You know."
Billy raises an eyebrow. "Sure," he says, in a tone that suggests the opposite.
I gulp down the little beer remaining in my bottle.
*Lij?*
*Yeah?*
*Y'know I love you, right?*
I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, rubbing my temples. I definitely fucked up somewhere, but now I'm not sure where or how.
"So Orli panicked," Billy says softly. It takes me a second to realize what he's talking about. "You went to Elijah, and Orli didn't think Lij would pass up the opportunity to offer you a different sort of comfort. Nothing happened, I know, you've told me a thousand times. But Orli got scared that something might. So he changed the give-Dom-space plan into a keep-Dom-close one." He smiles wryly. "Too late, I guess. The more he tried to reel you in, the more he pushed you away. Am I right?"
I mutter something affirmative. Billy looks satisfied.
*When did I ever say I loved you?*
*When did I ever say I was the one you love?*
"It hurts," I say quietly. "Even though everything was already falling apart, I didn't think it could hurt this much."
"I'm sorry." Billy's voice is gentler than I've ever heard it. "Anything I can do to help?"
My eyes snap open, and I stare at him.
I've been asked that before. And that was where I fucked up.
Time feels temporarily frozen. I take in the little things -- the sound of my heart beating too quickly, the faint smell of spilt beer coming from the rug, Billy's nice green eyes. Not brown. Not blue. Green.
And I say what I never thought to say to Lij, what I should've said, what Orli did say.
"Yes."
I lean in carefully and kiss him.
He breaks it off, pulling back. Green eyes study my face. "Are you sure about this?"
"I want to stop thinking." I don't add that I'd like to replace thoughts of Orli and Lij tangled up in each other with a few images of my own. "Is that okay with you?"
"Aye. It is."
And we're kissing again, and it just feels so damn good to be kissing someone. Weird, too -- Billy kisses very differently than Orli, and for some reason it's never occurred to me that different guys would taste different. I've been with a number of girls, mind, but Orli was the first bloke I'd ever really fooled around with.
Fooling around, messing around... I wonder if Merry and Pippin ever messed around quite like this.
Kisses are no longer reserved for lips, and that's nice, too, except that we're both wearing too much clothing. Well, that problem's easily solved. This is an interesting trail we're making from couch to bedroom. Orli and I have done it, too, but we didn't have to deal with things like staircases.
I discover that it is, in fact, possible to ascend a staircase backwards while simultaneously removing a pair of jeans and licking someone's neck.
I find Billy's bed without too much difficulty, and am temporarily deprived of his kisses while he rummages through a drawer. In these ten seconds, I have time to think.
'So there,' I think defiantly. Not too sure who that's directed at, but it doesn't matter anymore because Billy found the condoms.
"Who first?" he asks breathlessly.
I don't answer. I'm too busy fumbling with the little packet. Fucking foil crap.
He laughs. "Here, let me." He has significantly less trouble getting the thing open. I express my appreciation in the most practical way possible.
My mind gets a bit hazy at this point, what with the general sensory overload. Thousands of little things compete for my attention, and the only one I can focus on is -- NICE.
'So there,' I manage to think again, and a delicious sense of being avenged passes over me. Then Billy lets out an intriguing little moan, and my brain gives up entirely.
It isn't the most mind-blowingly amazing sex I've ever had, but it'll do nicely.
Gradually, I return to something resembling normal mental capacity. I'm tangled up in Billy, both of us still quivering slightly from the release. I find his mouth and kiss it, a bit sloppily. "Thanks," I murmur.
"My pleasure," he replies warmly, but he's giving me an odd look. "Did you know you were muttering to yourself?"
I'm usually pretty quiet during sex -- unlike Orli, who could wake the dead during our better nights. The loudest I get is a sort of incoherent mumbling commentary, and if I get that far, I'm probably too caught up in the moment to realize I'm saying anything at all.
"It happens," I say cautiously. "Was I?"
He props his chin up in his hand, studying my face. "Aye. D'you know whose name you were calling?"
I feel my ears go hot. "Oh, bloody hell, I'm sorry. I said 'Orli' or something, didn't I?"
"Well, I half expected you to shout his name," Billy admits. "It wouldn't have offended me. I was kinda looking forward to it, actually."
I shoot him a puzzled look.
He smiles lazily. "It's not every day I'm mistaken for a sex god like Orlando Bloom." He winks at me. "But Elijah Wood, on the other hand..."
"I said 'Elijah?'' I ask dumbly.
"Well," he hedges, grinning, "it was more like 'Lij oh God yes Lij fuck now.'"
I bury my face in the pillow.
Billy rubs my back, kissing my neck. "S'okay," he murmurs. "Truth be told, I wasn't thinking of you the whole time, either. But I thought you didn't fancy him."
"I don't," I say automatically, lifting my head to meet his eyes. "Who were you thinking of?"
He smiles to himself. "Maybe some other time."
"C'mon," I wheedle. "It's only fair."
"No."
I sit up, exasperated. "Boyd, you're my best mate and I just fucked you, I think I'm entitled to know who you'd rather have been shagging just now!"
Billy laughs now, pulling me back down. "Don't be daft, Dommie lad," he teases, running a hand down my chest. "I can't think of a better fuckmate." His voice turns more serious. "You make up with Orli and Lijah, and then I'll tell you."
I don't respond, and he sighs, wrapping his arms around me. Eventually, we both drop off.
* * * * *
It's still dark when I wake up. Billy only has one arm slung around me now, and he's snoring lightly. I squint blearily at the bedside clock. 3:00 AM.
This is a new situation for me. What's the etiquette after shagging your best friend for comfort? Specifically, do I go back to sleep now, or leave quietly before he wakes up?
The question resolves itself easily, once I alter it to "Will I be ready to talk about this with him when we get up at 5 AM?"
I am not a morning person. I will not be ready to face Billy until I've showered, dressed, and had several cups of coffee.
It's simple enough to slip out of bed. Billy sleeps like a log. Retrieving my clothing from the hallway and staircase, article by article, is a bit harder. I will never be able to tell the difference between two pairs of boxers.
I manage, somehow. When I get home, my instinct is to go straight to bed and squeeze another hour or so of sleep in. But the light on my answering machine is blinking, and I feel somehow obligated to listen to my message.
"Hi, it's Elijah." I inhale sharply. The recorded version of Lij's voice continues. "Dom, are you there?" A pause. "Okay. Look, I'm really sorry. I just... I'm sorry." Another pause. "Sean and I just got back. Um, I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Please don't avoid me."
The machine beeps off.
Fuck this. I'm completely knackered right now. I'll deal with this later.
As I fall into bed, a vaguely interesting thought passes through my mind.
I feel better, more relaxed. Sex with Billy was very nice indeed. But I'd trade it all away in an instant just to be sitting on Elijah's couch, leaning against him, sipping beer and watching the telly together.
END PART 3/4
no subject
Shouting out Elijah's name and not remembering? Sounds like it was pretty good sex to me.
no subject
Hmmm, friend-fucks. I'll keep an eye out for your fic, sounds interesting...
Re:
(So was Billy's crush on Dom? Or maybe Orli? I read part 4 but it wasn't perfectly clear who . . . and now I'm dying to know)