Happy OTP Month, everyone!
I've had a long fic in progress just for today, but was sadly blindsided by a bad cold/sore throat situation a few days ago, and thus have not been in the right mindset to finish it. Thankfully, I anticipated such a situation and wrote two ficlets to take its place. Those of you who have been around a while might remember my "GRE vocabbles" from Monaboyd Months past. Well, in the spirit of that, I give you these.
I'll likely post the first part of the longer fic tonight. :)dotard: foolish old man
It was about three months into filming that Billy picked up a copy of Lolita
to reread, and found, alarmingly, that he understood it far better than he did the first time around.
Unlike Professor Humbert, Billy had no precursor for Dom. There’d been men before, but there hadn’t been this, this ache, this unbearable of a longing. Agonizingly in love
—or well on his way, at least. It expanded exponentially with every night out, every day waiting for “Action.”
Outings to pubs or clubs were the worst, the stage, as it were, set for consummation at every turn, and Dom flirted with it just as he flirted with everyone and everything with which he came into contact. The deadly little demon among the wholesome children.
Billy felt that all those feelings, the ones he kept so strictly jailed during the daytime, were amplified, impossible to hide, ironically, under the concealment of the darkness, the strobe, and the flashing colored lights.
Billy tended to become poetic when he yearned for someone like this, particularly in secret, writing songs constantly, and other, more twee activities, like composing long lists of words and phrases to ascribe to Dom, including things like “erotic knobs of spine” and “lit with sunshine.” The dichotomy was maddening, devoting feelings this ancient and romantic to the very same person with whom he spent the day babbling nonsense and concocting absurd jokes. But these nothings were Billy’s oxygen, and a day without them was a day spent suffocating.
Dom dropped into his lap one of these aforementioned nights, eyes alive, sweet with sweat, rubbing it into Billy’s neck and shoulders where his fingertips roamed. “What’s the matter?”
Billy kept his hands in his lap, folded, clutching nothing. “I am an artist and a madman, that’s all.” Those long fingers slid up over his jaw to pinch his cheeks so his mouth pursed.
Dom pursed his own lips in mimicry. “That you are.” He then promptly yawned, resting his head on Billy’s shoulder. “Can we go home now?” he murmured, unaware of his lips brushing at Billy’s tendon.
Billy’s eyelashes fluttered, and in the dark, it was lost to everyone around them. That was the worst part of all, Dom’s so thoroughly reciprocated devotion that was close to what Billy desired but not quite, never quite.
“Yes,” Billy said quietly, hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him toward the nearest red exit sign, Dom giggling and feigning protest all the way.concatenate: link together
“Fucking hurts like hell; out, out, out.”
Billy obeys, easing out slowly, clutching himself at the base with a grunt. “Your tolerance for pain is laughable.”
Dom’s shoulders relax into the big, fluffy pillow, his eyes going wide and incredulous. “You
wanna try it?”
“This,” Billy immediately switches his grip to Dom’s cock, stroking as easily and comfortably as if it were still his very own, “is not getting anywhere near my arse, not ever, not without some serious reconstructive surgery.”
Dom smiles wide, giggling madly. “Reconstructive arsehole surgery? It’ll be all the rage.” His eyelids go suddenly heavy at Billy’s stroke.
Pleased, and with no small agenda, Billy dips his head, matter-of-factly licking a line up the underside of his cock, then wraps his pretty little mouth around the head, tongue dancing behind his lips.
“Jesus,” Dom whispers fiercely.
Billy immediately pulls off, looking affronted. “Billy
,” he mock-corrects.
Dom slaps a hand over his eyes and lets out a loud laugh, tears appearing at the corners, ones likely left over from just before. The I love you
threatens to spill again, that one that always seems to be loitering just at the back of his tongue whenever he’s near Billy. It’s been there for weeks, but Dom always manages to valiantly keep it from escaping. They used to say it to each other all the time, in fits of laughter and drunkenness, but neither of them has uttered it since they started fooling around, of course.
Billy sucks hard, wet, making Dom’s hips roll up and off the mattress, a move that makes him nearly lose his technique and huff a hard exhale through his nostrils, his brow furrowing.
“Sorry,” Dom is quick to say.
“No, you’re fine,” Billy whispers, lifting up on his hands. “Just... quietly obsessing.” His voice quivers as he strokes Dom’s hips with his thumbs, making them rise again.
Neither of them had had any idea it would be this good, or even good at all, really.
Dom bites his lip and shifts down, closer, inviting. “Try again?”
Billy breathes deeply, nearly losing himself again. He nods once, silent, and leans in to kiss Dom sweetly on the mouth, heart racing as he reaches down once more.