A Proper HelloNC-17
This bit of ridiculous has been sitting in my WIP folder in some form for a very, very long time. Originally meant to be a 100% dialogue fic, but I decided it'd be better this way. Without further adue:A Proper Hello
Billy comes shuffling through the jetway in sunglasses, duffel dangling from his fingers like a bag of groceries. Dominic indulges in a smile before he can even be seen, mentally checking off the list of things he'd procured for Billy in the likely event that he underpacked. The small bag doesn't even look that filled out, he notes with a head shake, probably consisting solely of socks and pants, two things Billy knows he won't have much luck finding at Dom's.
"I need food and then a nap," Billy declares before he's even reached Dominic's feet. "In that burger. I mean, in that order."
Dominic reaches out, wraps two arms around his neck, and reels him in for a stumbling but well-intentioned embrace. "Lovely to see you, too. Bloody trainwreck."
"I'm gorgeous," Billy mumbles in protest, his glasses getting all skewed against Dom's ear.
"Always." Dominic takes his bag from him and lifts it up and down a few times, weighing it.
Billy looks hopeful even behind shades. "Burger?"
Dominic barks an incredulous laugh and steers them in the direction of parking. "I'll see what I can do."
In the harsher sunlight coming through the windshield, Billy looks about ten years older, but the way he's acting—and the way Dominic's feeling—they both could be all of ten. Dominic's smirk, that special one he keeps under lock and key for only him, is a permanent fixture on his face, his eyes darting from the road to Billy to the dashboard and back again. He can see Billy slowly but surely brightening, his center of gravity working its way back to neutral. By dinner, he'll be his chatty little fuck of a self.
"You know, it still amazes me that you don't get sick of me."
"I'm sick of you all the time. I'm sick of you right now," Billy shoots back halfheartedly as he sinks into the passenger seat.
"Fuck off—I mean, at this point, we've done nearly everything two people could possibly do together. There aren't any surprises left to be had."
"I mean, we've lived together, we've gone on holiday together, we've been in a movie together, we've written a script together, we've slept in bed together, we've showered together—"
"Which I thought I told you never to mention again."
"We've spent every waking moment together. We've seen each other sneeze, burp, fart, cry. You know. Everything."
Billy goes pensive next to him. "...Well."
"What, then?" Dominic is genuinely curious.
Dominic's car screeches to a halt at the tail-end of miles of traffic. "Bil-ly." He gives him a stern look.
"We've never seen each other have orgasms," Billy says simply.
Dominic nearly flinches, half from shock that he hadn't thought of that himself and half from the fact that, well, perhaps he still does have the ability to surprise Billy. He shifts in his seat, pointedly looking through the driver's side window.
Dominic bites back a smile.
Dominic clears his throat, pretending to focus on the line of cars up ahead. Billy reaches over and pinches his thigh, hard. "Ow! Fucking hell!" He smacks Billy's thigh repeatedly in retaliation, then heaves a great big sigh. Billy bats his eyes expectantly. "D'you remember that party Lij had at the end of principal—it was one of the last ones."
Billy narrows his eyes. "Yeah." Clearly he still hasn't forgotten that redheaded extra, either. And just to add insult to injury, he recalls her name, too: "Stella."
"Yeah," Dominic breathes, his face going uncontrollably hot. "Well. I hid in the closet in the guest room, I was going to jump out and scare the two of you. I was pissed out of my mind, you know, no social graces and all that." He swallows, inching his car forward. "But, um, by the time you got in there, she practically had her shirt off, and you two were already getting into it. I didn't want to interrupt." That he still has a clear image of Billy's hand easing her bra strap down over her shoulder is a little troubling. "And she was fucking hot, mate, so I watched."
That Billy doesn't burst into laughter—or ask how long he had to stay curled up in that closet—is more than a little troubling. "Well that's just not fair."
"I'm sorry," Dominic says quickly. "It's fucking weird, I know. But it was a long time ago, I barely even remember it."
Billy leans his elbow on the door, resting his chin in his hands. "How are we going to settle this matter?" Dominic laughs. "I'm serious, Dom. I feel all violated and vulnerable now. 'S not fair."
Dominic breaks into a more genuine smile as the traffic starts to move. Maybe they can leave his little admission back in that gridlock time warp. "Well, what do you want me to do? I can't un
see what I saw."
"...You can let me
"Like what?" Dominic's shoulders bunch up under the heat of Billy's stare.
Dominic splutters. "No."
"What?" Billy is the picture of innocence.
"Oh, don't get all modest now."
Dominic does a quadruple take at Billy, nearly swerving off the road in the process. "I'm not tossing one off in front of you, if that's what you're asking."
Billy plays injured. "But I thought I was your best mate."
"Exactly. All the more reason for me to not show you my cock."
your cock, plenty of times," Billy dismisses, then adds, "Mostly against my will."
Dominic laughs, shaking his head as he turns off for his exit. "There is a world of difference between me walking around my own flat
starkers and me putting on a wank show for you."
"Does your own flat
include my flat, Elijah's flat, Viggo's flat, Orlando's flat, and the hallway of the Marriott? Come on
"No," Dominic answers primly, enjoying himself far too much.
"I thought you loved me, Dominic. What happened? What changed?"
"I still love you, William, very much so, but there's just no fucking way I'm letting you watch me give myself a pull. You filthy fuck," he says with affection.
Billy actually pouts. "I'd do it for you."
"And I'm grateful for that," Dominic pats his knee. "But it's not happening."
Billy sighs. "Fine."
Conversation turns to how Elijah's doing, tomorrow's surf, and, of course, food again, and silly though it all was—and not at all out of the ordinary for the two of them, as far as banter goes—Dominic finds himself audibly exhaling with each new topic offered.
Later that night, Dominic takes his time in the shower, washing the grime of the day off of him. Not that he and Billy had done anything too strenuous, not even in the realm of drinking; after Billy'd napped the afternoon anyway, they'd gone out for a nice Indian dinner, just the two of them, where Billy'd promptly filled up on beer and naan and Dom had eaten his weight in a lovely lamb curry. And then they'd come right back to Dom's flat afterward. Perhaps it was preparing for Billy's arrival, making sure he had everything that Billy wouldn't be arsed to bring himself, that's left Dominic feeling like he could fall asleep right under the hot, thunderous spray.
His eyes drift shut, arms going lax at his sides as his mind starts to wander stubbornly back to that conversation from earlier, and the images inspired by it: Billy's pretty, girlish mouth working down the side of Stella's neck, suckling a pink nipple, clever little tongue sneaking out to lave at it; Billy's hands following the lines of her stomach, thumb sure and practiced between her folds, against her clit; Billy's meaty arms bracing himself on the mattress, bare ass clenching with each thrust.
Yeah, Dominic barely even remembers it.
As if on cue, the bathroom door creaks open, bringing with it a needed intrusion of air—and reality. "Sorry, mate. Need a pee," Billy's voice carries above the sound of the water.
"'S alright, I understand," Dominic instantly shoots back. "Prostate must be the size of a watermelon at your age."
Billy hums, pointedly ignoring him.
"I'm saying you're an old twat! Just to clarify!"
"Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four...
Dominic smiles, reaching for the shower gel. He still has trouble reconciling those images from Elijah's party with the Billy that he knows, this Billy, even after all these years. He can vaguely hear him splashing water on his face and brushing his teeth, sounds that have always been sources of comfort for Dominic warming him deep in his gut even now. He closes his eyes and lathers himself up, getting lost in the hypnotic rhythm of Billy's toothbrush. Swish-swish swish-swish.
It isn't until a full minute or two later that he bends back under the spray, watching the water carry the suds down the front of his body. It's gone quiet beyond the curtain, and he assumes Billy's sneaked his way back out, when suddenly he feels the air change again. He glances up and sees a bottle of lotion appear through the gap between curtain and tile, manned by Billy's hand. Billy makes the bottle dance enticingly, and Dominic lets out a confused laugh before he realizes what the gesture implies. "Oh get out, you fuck!" He grabs the bottle, tears the curtain back, and pelts Billy with it as he runs giggling through the door.
Dominic takes the opportunity to laugh full and loud, to appreciate the moment and what's sure to become the running joke of Billy's visit, before resuming his shower.
By the time Dominic's ready for bed, Billy's wide awake, the casualty of jet lag and a three-hour nap. Dominic tries his best to keep up with conversation, submerged half-naked on his stomach under the covers while Billy sits patiently atop the duvet beside him, hands folded in his lap. Even through slitted eyes, Dominic can see the expectant look on his face. He yawns theatrically.
"Want me to go?"
Dominic almost nods, then thinks better of it. "I'm too tired to kick you out."
"Alright." Billy smiles, pleased, settling into the headboard. "Don't mind me. Just, you know, do whatever you normally do when you're about to go to bed. Pretend I'm not here."
Dominic finds the energy to give him a strange look. "...Okay." He pushes his nose into the pillow and closes his eyes.
He's already on the verge of nodding off when Billy's voice breaks the quiet. "That's it?"
"Hmn?" His eyes open to slits again, his brow furrowing in annoyance.
"That's it?" Billy gestures vaguely at him.
Billy bites his lip, thinking. "Okay." He twists around, searching for the remote, finding it on the bedside table. "I'm just going to turn on the telly. If you don't mind."
Dominic makes a sleepy affirmative noise. This time, he's almost completely out when a ridiculous moan jolts him awake. He pushes himself up onto his forearms, turns to look at the screen, and laughs: a close-up of a fist going up a girl's ass. "Sick fuck," he chuckles tiredly on his way back down to the mattress.
Billy instantly begins running commentary. "Oh, I've seen this one before. It's a good one. Bikini Biker Cops. Six or Seven, I can't remember which," he muses, shifting until his voice is all soft and warm near Dom's ear. "Tanya's a rookie, and she's forgotten one of the most important rules of the precinct: never wear panties. So the chief, Tiffany, has to show her the long arm of the law."
Half-asleep though he is, Dominic lets out a low, rumbly laugh into the pillow. He loves when Billy's silly like this, but he's surprised it's lasting so long.
"Tiffany has the nicest tits on the force," Billy continues. "That's why she's the chief."
From across the room, Tiffany spews, Take it, bitch!
in a voice that's the opposite of authoritative.
They both break up from that, but Dominic starts stirring despite himself, those well-loved, lewd noises working their usual magic. He lifts up again to watch as Tanya squeals and comes.
Billy looks patiently at him. "This doing anything for you?"
"Actually," Dominic starts, ready to give an honest response, when he realizes what Billy's doing. He gives him a hard one-armed shove. "You cocksucking bastard. Get out of here!"
"Come on, Dom," Billy nearly whines, making the bed bounce a little.
Dominic snuggles stubbornly back into sleep mode and kicks him halfheartedly in the shin. "Get out."
"Would it help if I did it too?"
And that has Dominic darting upright just in time to see Billy's hands fastened to his belt. He laughs in exasperation, wide awake now. "Don't pull your fucking cock out in my bed! 'S the matter with you?!"
"This is the one thing I don't know about you, you said," Billy explains, one hand gesticulating wildly, the other still on the ready at his buckle. "I want to know what you look like."
"You've never seen me on the toilet, either!"
"Everybody looks the same on the toilet," Billy says thoughtfully. "That's no fun."
Dominic shoves the pillow back underneath him, punching at it until it's flattened to his liking. "God, I'm never going to be able to masturbate again if you're within a five mile radius." He curls up and pulls the covers up to his chin, hoping that if he closes his eyes, Billy'll magically disappear.
But no. Instead, Billy shifts closer, curling up right beside him. He reaches over and gives Dominic a scratch between the shoulder blades. "Pleeeaaaase?"
Dominic can't help but crack a smile. "Going to sleep," he announces loudly, eyes clenched shut. "Sleeping now."
Billy waits a moment, sighs heavily, then leans over and bites his shoulder. "Unreciprocating bastard," he growls into his ear before heaving himself up off the bed and out the door.
It takes a while for Dominic's grin to fade, but when it finally does, he has to admit, he's getting worried.
It's a miracle that Billy's the first one awake the next morning, and further, that he's sitting straight and tall at the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal and a bright smile, like he's been living with Dominic for weeks. Dominic, for his part, is still hopelessly achy and puffy-eyed, though he'd slept the better part of the night away. The bottoms of his flannels trap his feet as he shuffles across the linoleum.
"You're wearing clothes," Billy notes with amusement.
Dominic throws the fridge door open. "Disappointed, eh?" He scrubs a hand over his face and into his unruly hair. "Ah shite, I forgot to get the milk you like." He turns to see Billy tipping the bowl back into his mouth, anyway. "Clearly you're broken up about it," he smirks.
With an elaborate swallow and a satisfied exhale, Billy slides his stool out and quickly makes his way over to the sink, depositing his dirty dishes there. By the time Dominic finally shuts the door and turns, a bottle of water in his grip, Billy's standing right in front of him with a smile that's just a shade too sweet. "Morning."
"Morning," Dominic answers automatically, tentative. Billy takes one step forward and he takes one step back, bringing his shoulders flush with the fridge. "Bill," he warns, a smile creeping into his voice.
"Been thinking," Billy starts, lowering his deft hands to Dominic's drawstring. He pulls at one end, and the whole bow unravels.
Dominic's eyes go wide and panicked. It's a fumble of their four hands, the water bottle, and Dominic's flannels. Billy's hands win out, of course, precise little buggers, leaving Dom's water bottle rolling toward the living room, his trousers pushed halfway down his ass, and his own hands pinned against cold metal. "Bill," he laughs nervously. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Just a friendly wank, Dom," Billy explains in a voice that's way too businesslike for such a moment. "If you're not going to do it for me, I'll have to."
" Dominic struggles in earnest now.
"Come on, don't be a girl about this."
Dominic manages to free his hands, but he only gets so far as getting them completely tangled with Billy's. Now they're holding hands while his pants are down. Fantastic. "No means no, Bill."
Billy manages to get one hand cupped around Dominic, violent though Dominic's own hands get in protest, and it's strange
, too fucking strange for words, really, those same fingers Dominic fixated on all those years ago as they took such gorgeous care with a body much softer than his own, now firm and persuasive against his half-hard cock.
"Why not? I know you think I'm attractive." Billy cocks his head, watching for the changes in Dominic's expression. "You've said."
"What? That has—" Dominic squirms, trying to inch his pelvis away from Billy without much success. In fact, all it manages to do is create a friction that he really doesn't need. "I think a lot of people are attractive. Doesn't mean they all should give me a pull!" He wrests one of his hands free and smacks Billy's away, quickly pulling his flannels back up.
Billy eases back a bit, crossing his arms, obedient for the moment. "What if I want to?"
Dominic rolls his eyes, moving to get out of the kitchen and out of where this conversation's headed. So Billy's willing to completely fuck with his head for a laugh. Also fantastic. "Fuck off."
"I'm serious, Dom," Billy pushes him gently back against the fridge with a hand to the chest. "I want to stroke you. Yes or no?"
It's not at all
fair that his best mate's voice should curl like that around the word stroke
. "Bill, what are you—"
"Just this once. We never have to talk about it again. We can put it under the 'We Showered Together' file."
Dominic's eyes shift to the living room, the window leading out to the garden. "Why is this so important?"
"It's not," Billy says quickly. "It's not a big deal, that's what I'm trying to tell you. It'll be over before you know it."
"I'm not fourteen, Billy."
"I can be quick," Billy assures him, stepping further into his space. His voice goes low and soothing. "Just close your eyes, and I'll be quick."
Dominic bites his lip, fidgeting. "You're being ridiculous."
A triumphant smile plays at the corners of Billy's mouth—a mouth that Dominic is having a really hard time not staring at, actually. His fingers are light on Dominic's sternum, his accent thick. "I want to see you come, and I want to make it happen. Yes or no?"
The manipulative fuck. "Okay. Fine. 'S not like you'll be able to get me off, anyway," he declares, voice full of a faux bravado that's convincing to no one in the room.
Billy lets that smile go, and it's understated and delicate, just like most of the rest of him, and he takes another step closer (one Dominic didn't even think was there), easing Dominic's flannels down again, this time slow, unhurried, and without protest. Dominic shivers, feeling the rush of exposure and Billy so close they're practically breathing for each other.
Billy's right hand is experimental at first, thumb giving Dominic a stroke on the underside of his cock, the left all firm and sure at his hipbone. "Hm. Seems you need a bit more persuasion." He leans in and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the corner of Dominic's jaw.
Billy's hand instantly stills. "I thought you said—"
"Wank, not kiss. Yes. Fine."
Dominic can feel Billy smile against his neck. "I think the kissing is helping the wanking." And just to prove his point, he takes Dominic up in his hand, wrapping his fingers around the shaft for a light stroke. "Is that right, Dom?" He snakes his tongue out, running it slowly along his jawline.
Dominic's head falls back against the fridge. "Shut the fuck up," he grits out. "Don't talk, just do it."
Billy lifts his mouth to Dom's ear and tightens his grip just so. "Does my talking bother you, Dom?" He pulls at the skin under his earlobe with his teeth, and Dominic pulls in a shaky breath. "Dominic?"
"Not fair," Dominic manages, his brain not willing or able to provide a further explanation.
"Not fair, hm?" Billy rumbles, watching his profile closely. "Isn't that what got us here in the first place? You being a nosy prick?" He nips at the side of Dominic's neck. "Hm?"
It's not the best handjob Dominic's ever had, far from it; the angle isn't ideal and the lighting is making it all a bit strange, not to mention the fact that they're in the kitchen and it's Billy
. Really, it should be the most awkward fucking handjob on earth, but somehow it's got Dominic gripping Billy's forearms and going up on the balls of his feet, squeezing a breathy little moan out of the back of his throat.
Billy's expression moves from taunting to attentive as he changes his grip and watches for approval. Dominic gives it to him, exhaling, "'S good," though he keeps his eyes out the window.
"Take it, bitch
," Billy demands, though there's a sweetness in his voice, and that brings Dominic's eyes back to him.
He laughs breathlessly, thankful for the joke. "You're an idiot," he gasps, and Billy reaches down with his other hand to drag his fingers underneath and between Dominic's balls, as if in some bizarre kind of retaliation. Billy gets a gleam in his eye, and something passes lightning-quick between them, a knowledge, right before Billy strokes his thumb back to that special place. Dominic's grip tightens on Billy's forearms, his stance stumbling wider as he inhales sharply and holds it. "Fuck."
Billy's smile stretches wide and feral; he knows he's got Dominic right where he wants him, totally at his mercy, his nerves like guitar strings under his fingertips. "It's funny," he muses. "I don't even really remember Stella's face that well. But I know that she came first."
And that gives Dominic's heart a jump. He knows where this is going.
"See, Dom, I never come first. Not since I was seventeen. One of my, ehm," he swirls his thumb over the head of Dominic's cock on the upstroke, "talents."
Dominic's eyes drop to Billy's hands on him, the combination of that image, Billy's omnipotent voice, and his thumb pressing harder up on his favorite spot making his mouth go lax and his prick leak onto Billy's fingers.
"I'm wondering," Billy continues, "what made you stay? After you saw her come, what kept you in that closet, watching like you did? You could've shut your eyes or turned away, given a mate some privacy."
"Don't," he pleads for the second time, more urgently than the first.
"What were you hoping to see?"
"Why d'you need to ask me?" he growls, hoping Billy'll shut the fuck up so he can come and this conversation can be done with, once and for all.
But Billy licks his lips, his face suddenly going soft and a bit vulnerable. "I need you to tell me."
Dominic turns away again. He can feel his face and neck practically going purple. He clenches his eyes and heaves a breath. "You've got me here, isn't that enough?"
Billy leans his forehead against Dominic's temple, his breath expelling in warm, perfect puffs against his cheek. His hand works faster and rougher below, creating sounds more and more lurid with each pass, the other moving up over Dominic's stomach and chest, up to the side of his neck. "No. It's not," he answers honestly, then tilts his head to press a firm kiss to Dominic's mouth.
Dominic whimpers, his own hands finally coming up to fist Billy's shirt, his eyes open and completely naked when they pull apart. "You," he breathes, his face flushing even more. "I wanted to see you."
Billy's head falls into the crook of Dominic's neck. "Christ," he whispers, bringing that free hand down to palm himself through his boxers.
"Had to see you," Dominic hisses into his ear, and then it's Billy's turn to whimper before Dominic pulls him up for another kiss, this time something messier, with his tongue sliding wetly along Billy's and Billy's teeth tugging at his bottom lip.
Billy's hands fumble, totally losing their rhythm. "Shite," he laughs, before dropping to his knees and following the big vein in Dominic's cock with his tongue.
"Ah fuck, Billy
," Dominic gasps, his hands going straight to the sides of Billy's head to grip in his hair. He's barely urged Billy's mouth up and over his cock when he comes, the sight of the fluid dripping over Billy's lips and chin making his eyes go impossibly wide, in awe, in lust, and in a guilty brand of amusement.
Billy doesn't have the grace to lick it subtly away; instead, he sputters a little, reaching forward to use Dominic's flannels as a washcloth.
Dominic lets out a mischievous giggle, glad that he won't have to start panicking, not just yet, anyway. "You asked for it."
Billy runs his tongue along his teeth, spazzing a bit. He looks up. "We'll have to do that again," he laughs, though his eyes are serious. "I couldn't really watch, considering."