Walls

[subtle-dusk.livejournal.com]

Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Dom hates walls :)
Disclaimer: I don't know them, this never happened.
Notes: This was meant to be silly. I wrote it during the angst plague we had a week or so ago, and this was basically my retalliation against that. Part of what Dom says while ranting about walls is a quote stolen from hygher because it was THAT funny. This is dedicated to her, because she needs a few smiles right about now.



When Dom had confronted Billy about why he was always staring, Billy had apologized and walked out, just like that.

“Sorry Dommie, didn’t realize it,” he said in that incredibly intoxicating Scottish lilt of his, and he had bowed his head and walked out of the trailer. Dom had made a move to go after him, but Elijah caught his wrist. Dom gave him a look, frowning, but Elijah shook his head.

“Let him go, mate,” and Dom couldn’t help but smile because ‘mate’, coming from Elijah’s American mouth, sounded just so funny, really.

“He does it all the time,” Dom said, looking at the closed door as he plopped down on the well-worn sofa. He idly picked at a thread near his thigh, eyes fixed on the faded blue strand. Elijah seemed totally unconcerned.

“So what? He’s an observer, he watches things. Watches people. He likes it, likes studying them, figuring out why they do the things they do.” Elijah paused thoughtfully. “I think,” he said, taking a seat next to Dom, “that he likes to figure each of us out so we become predictable. I don’t think Billy likes the unpredictable.” Dom stood again, forever restless.

“He watches you, then?” Elijah smiled slyly, rising as well.

“Jealous?” Dom glared, pressed his hand against Elijah’s chest, forcing him to fall back against the sofa, and walked out of the trailer.

“Come on, wanker, get some food,” he called over his shoulder as the door slammed shut.

*~*~*

“I don’t really mind,” Dom said, picking at the potato salad.

“Of course you don’t. You enjoy being the center of attention.” At Dom’s quick glance, Elijah continued. “Not in a bad, look-at-me way. You just like performing. So what? It’s what we do, and you happen to do it exceptionally well even when you aren’t in front of the camera.” Dom considered this, and nodded.

“Why won’t he tell me why he stares?”

“Dom, for Christ’s sake, if you really want to know, ask him in private.”

“Why should it be such an ordeal? Why can’t he just tell me when I ask him in front of you?” Elijah looked across the canteen to where Billy was seated next to Orlando, listening to Viggo tell what was likely to be an incredibly fascinating story, because after all Viggo was the one telling it, and then back to Dom.

“Don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong, and he just really likes watching you.”

*~*~*

“I mean, if he’s got a problem with me, he ought to just come right out and say it. We’ve got to work together for another twelve months. I thought we were mates,” Dom paused, and Elijah knew the unspoken follow-up was best mates.

“Some people just keep things close to the vest,” Elijah responded, flipping through his CD book of the day.

“What the bloody fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dom stole the book from Elijah, flipped back to the front, and selected a CD as Sean clamored into the makeup trailer, hot cup of coffee in his hand.

“Don’t be dense, Dominic.” Dom grunted, passing the CD book back to Elijah, and Elijah selected another CD along with Dom’s, placed them into the player, then tucked the book below the counter as the fourth hobbit entered the trailer.

*~*~*

“Bill,” Dom said, and his voice was soft and firm and definitely not the usual. Billy rubbed the back of his neck, the ghost of glue still clinging there, and turned around to face Dom.

“Dommie.” He thought he kept his voice neutral, thought he kept his eyes veiled and his stance impartial, but apparently something set Dom off.

“What the *fuck* is going on?” Dom certainly seemed irritated, for when he swore he gave Billy a light shove against his chest. Dom knew Billy was calculating what he would say next, was planning it for Dom’s reaction in advance, and for some reason this pissed Dom off even further. “No lies, Bill. No fucking lies, no fucking answering questions with questions, and don’t you fucking *dare* apologize to me.” Dom took a breath, and bracing one hand on Billy’s shoulder to help collect himself, he said, “You haven’t done a thing.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed a fraction, if Dom hadn’t been looking staringlosinghimselfdrowing into them so thoroughly he wouldn’t have noticed the slight change, but there it was. There was something there, and Dom for the life of him couldn’t fucking place what it was and maybe if he had, maybe if he had recognized that emotion that so briefly flitted across Billy’s face, reflecting itself in those beautiful eyes, maybe Dom wouldn’t have let Billy walk away.

As it was, Billy blinked and Dom blinked in reaction and when he opened his eyes again after that not-even-a-split-second Billy’s back was to him and he was walking away.

That night, Dom got very, very drunk.

“You know what it is about Billy?” he said, slurring several of his words together as he shouted to Elijah over the blaring music and roar of the crowd. Elijah couldn’t keep himself from being amused.

“What is it about Billy, Dom?” Dom set his bottle down rather hard on the thick wooden table, and Viggo, sitting opposite them, raised an eyebrow.

“He’s got these walls,” Dom said, leaning in to speak to Elijah as if this was some huge secret. He lowered his voice to what could be considered a conspiratorial tone and continued. “These walls, he’s got them everywhere,” he said, making what Elijah took to be walls out of the air with his hands.

“Walls,” Elijah stated, lighting a clove.

“Yes! Everywhere. You know what? I fucking hate walls. It’s like, ‘Hey, I want to go in this direction’ and the wall says, ‘No, fuck you’. It’s just the same with Billy. You try to figure him out and there’s a bloody wall right there where you want to go. Loads of them. Fucking walls.” Dom shook his head sadly as Billy approached their table from where he had disentangled himself from several female companions.

“How much has he had?” Billy asked Viggo softly, but Elijah caught it.

“A fair amount,” Viggo said, giving Dom the oddest look as he turned around and swore at the actual wall.

“What, exactly, is a fair amount?” Billy asked. “He can hold as much as me.”

“He’s had a bit more than that, Bill,” Elijah said, suddenly feeling guilty for allowing Dom to drink so much.

“A bit more?”

“Fuck you!” Dom shouted suddenly, swinging at the wall. He missed, totally and completely, and fell back in his seat. “Fucking walls.”

“Shite,” Billy swore softly. “I haven’t seen him this drunk since you two pissed in the fountain.” Elijah flushed, staring into his beer.

“I would do it again. They wouldn’t let us into the store to fucking pee,” he said stubbornly.

“I know, Lij,” Billy said and it wasn’t harsh and wasn’t accusing and Elijah knew he should have known better than to think it was when it was Billy talking.

“This is the worst date I’ve ever been on,” Dom declared, pointing to Elijah. “Won’t even order me another drink.”

“I don’t think you need anymore, Dommie,” Billy said and it was Billy’s voice that seemed to snap Dom out of his haze, it always had been, and Dom heaved a very heavy sigh and stood, albeit swaying.

“I don’t need you watching after me, Bill,” he said quite clearly, and his eyes even Elijah could tell were focused on Billy’s unwaveringly. “So stop it, yeah?” and Dom punctuated this with a slight shove. It occurred to Elijah that Dom must be a very tactile person, and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. Billy swallowed, lifting his chin ever so slightly.

“Alright, Dom. I’ll stop it.” This, apparently, was not the response Dom was expecting because he looked truly and utterly defeated, his eyes sliding from Billy’s as he collapsed back down into his seat. Billy bid his goodnights and walked out.

“You know,” Dom said forcing a laugh that lacked humor, “that’s the second time today I’ve made him walk away from me.” Not knowing what else to do, Elijah ordered Dom another drink.

“Sexual tension,” Viggo said, rising. Both Dom and Elijah looked up, aghast.

“What?” and even as Dom said it, Elijah realized the word fell from his mouth as well. Viggo only nodded and left.

“What the *fuck* is it with people walking away without fucking answering fucking questions?” But even as frustrated as Dom seemed, the humor was back in his eyes and Elijah knew he was considering it.

*~*~*

“Move, Dom,” Billy said, and he should have listened because Billy knew all of that jeet kune do shite and even though Dom most likely had more upper body strength, Billy knew how to use that to his advantage. So when Dom grinned cheekily and still refused to move from the door, after quite clearly stating his intentions(tell me what the fuck is going on Bill, I have a right to know, we’re best mates, aren’t we? I am going to stand here until you let me in on what’s going on behind these stupid, totally pointless walls you’ve built so have at it), he really should not have found it surprising to have Billy grab him and displace him in several fluid movements.

“Viggo said it was sexual tension,” Dom called after Billy as his hand closed around the doorknob. “I’m not one to go leaping to conclusions, but Viggo is seldom wrong.”

“Dommie, we’ve got to live together for some time, just we two.”

“And?” Billy considered Dom and Dom hated that, hated that Billy planned what he was going to say, calculated it, formed the exactly right words to say and would more often than not be prepared for whatever reaction Dom gave him. Dom fucking hated it.

“We’d be getting up to an awful lot by now if it was sexual tension, wouldn’t we?” he said. Something within Dom broke.

“Fuck you, Bill,” and then Dom kissed him. He hadn’t known he wanted to, or supposed he had always known, somewhere inside him, but it was made perfectly clear that holy fuck yes I want this he was absolutely happy pressing and keeping his lips against Billy’s.

Billy pulled gently away.

“Don’t let Viggo fill your head with ideas that turn to feelings you don’t have.”

“Viggo didn’t create them, if that’s what you’re implying,” Dom said, and it rang true with ever fiber of his being. He was thrumming, his hands were clenching and unclenching and he was only waiting for any invitation, no matter how small, from Billy, to resume what he had started.

“What, then?” And the slight uncertainty in Billy’s voice, the slight way he shifted, the intense way his eyes bore into Dom’s all came crashing into Dom with the force of a wave and he knew, he just knew that Billy was looking for assurance.

That was good enough an invitation for Dom, and he was more than happy to reassure.