(no subject)
Title: Torrential
Author: citikitti
Disclaimer: Lies, all of it!
Rating: NC-17, so I've been told, though it might be just a stern R.
Pairing: LotRPS, specifically Monaboyd.
A/N: Honestly, I think I got the hardest effing lyric. And I’ve not listened to the song either, though I did at least read the lyrics to the whole thing. Kisses & cookies to why_me_why_not for the beta!
Take this city
This city should be shining on a hill
Take this city if it be your will
“Yahweh”, U2
Torrential
It’s raining again, for the third day straight, a cold and listless drizzle leaking from a shrouded sky. After another morning’s worth of wasted effort, Pete had finally thrown up his hands in disgust and sent them all home. No one, he’d proclaimed, could film proper battle sequences when the horses kept slipping in the mud.
It isn’t like Pete to be bested by something so commonplace as weather, Dom muses, noting that even Elijah is subdued enough for a makeup tech to comment on it while their Feet are removed. The constant rain has gotten to all of them a little, wearing on them. Dom can’t decide whether he wants to lose himself in the frantic, blaring cacophony of Lij’s latest favourite club, or hide in the shadows of his rented house, brooding over over a drink while he listens to the rain pelt against the tiled roof.
It’s no contest, really, when Billy quietly takes Dom aside and asks him if he wants a ride home. “I could stay with you,” Billy adds, “if you want.”
If he wants. Huh. Yes, Dom wants. It’s no secret to anyone except Billy just how much Dom wants. “You don’t have to,” Dom says, meaning please and you don’t want to anyway and don’t leave me listening to the rain by myself.
“Yes, I do,” Billy says, in that voice which Dom knows means that there’s nothing more to do but accept it.
But what’s normally a sleek, twenty-odd minute drive takes well over an hour, as Billy’s forced to slow the car to a crawl for much of the trip. The roads are awash, the ditches beside them choked with mud. Twice the car stalls, and Billy has to coax life back into the engine with dire threats thinly veiled with soothing, lilting tones. It works for a while though, right up until they actually have to turn off the road. It’s raining harder now, steady and relentless, though they can see the house from where they sit.
“Want to make a dash for it?” Dom asks, but Billy is already halfway out the door before Dom can finish the question. “Guess so,” he mutters, then he’s out of the car too, chasing Billy up the muddy path. His feet slip-slide in the slick mud as he races after Billy. Dom’s legs are slightly longer, and he’s quick, but Billy’s all agile grace, easily dodging Dom’s desperate grab and sending him skidding headlong into the muck.
“You’re paying for that, Bills!” Dom gasps, spitting out mud and scrambling awkwardly to his feet. But his eyes are bright with the laughter that he can’t quite hold back. “’M not letting you out of my sight!”
“Better not,” Billy agrees, then laces his fingers through the belt loops on Dom’s jeans and yanks him forward before Dom can quite comprehend it.
There are lips pressed against his own, Dom realizes, Billy’s lips, and that’s not all. Other bits - very hard, very intimate bits - of Billy’s anatomy are pressed against him, bits that Dom has harboured fantasies about for some time now. None of those fantasies, however, have included a veritable torrent of New Zealand rain sluicing over them, and all of them pale in comparison to the sudden reality of Billy’s delicately questing tongue and his lithe fingers splayed against the small of Dom’s back where his shirt has pulled up.
“Jesus, Bills!” Dom gasps when he can finally draw a breath. “Your hands are fucking cold!”
“Sorry,” Billy says, though the way his hands immediately sneak under the waistband of Dom’s boxers is anything but apologetic.
“Not fair,” Dom accuses as he scrabbles at the buttons on Billy’s jeans. “You’ve got me at a disadvantage.”
“Yeah?” Billy asks. Dom finally wrests open Billy’s fly hard enough that the top button pops right off. “How’s that?”
“’S unfair,” Dom continues, stroking Billy through his pants, “because you know. Dunno how you found out; don’t care, really. You already know.” He drops to his knees in front of Billy, sliding the other man’s jeans and pants down enough to allow him access to Billy’s prick. Dom’s thought about this moment - thought about it quite a bit, actually - but now that the moment’s here, unbelievably he’s almost shy about it. But then he thinks, it’s Billy, and since when did he have reason to be shy around Billy?
“You already know I’m in love with you,” Dom murmurs, and sucks the head of Billy’s cock into his mouth. Oh, Jesus, but Billy tastes good, Dom thinks as he swirls his tongue along the underside of the shaft. He wouldn’t mind watching Billy right now, watching that perfect cupid’s-bow mouth shape soundless words like oh and yes and Dom and more. But Dom can’t open his eyes - the pelting rain has seen to that - and has to content himself with the buck-thrust-roll of Billy’s hips while he fucks Dom’s mouth, hands fisted into Dom’s sopping hair.
Unlike Dom’s fantasies, though, it’s over far too soon, Billy’s cock pulsing spasmodically in Dom’s eager mouth as he comes. Dom sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Let’s go inside, he means to say, but then catches sight of Billy’s incredulous expression, his eyes strangely luminous.
“Oh, fuck,” Dom says, as the horrifying realization crashes down on him. “You didn’t know.”
He’s halfway up the porch steps before Billy can catch him, whirling clumsily around as Billy grabs at his elbow. Dom loses his balance then, landing heavily on the top step with a small thud. He doesn’t look up as Billy sits down next to him.
When Billy finally speaks, his voice is calm and sure. “Of course I bloody knew,” he says. “You’d be daft if you believed that was a secret.” Leaning in towards Dom’s ear, he adds conspiratorially, “Want to know a real secret?”
“What?” Dom mumbles, wondering suddenly if he’ll ever find the button for Billy’s fly, and whether Billy will even want it back.
“I’m in love with you,” Billy whispers, and slides one cool hand along Dom’s jaw, gently turning Dom to face him. “Okay?”
Dom nods, scarcely able to believe it.
“I love you,” Billy continues. “I love you.”
The rain is still sheeting down; they can’t even see the car through the deluge. It’s wetter, somehow, than British rain, Dom thinks; it’s somehow more purifying, more cleansing, though he’s really bloody cold now, shivering despite Billy’s arm around his shoulders.
“Well,” Dom finally says, “you’d better stay. You can’t drive home in this.”
Billy tilts his head back to look at Dom. “I am home,” he says. “You just didn’t know it before.”
Author: citikitti
Disclaimer: Lies, all of it!
Rating: NC-17, so I've been told, though it might be just a stern R.
Pairing: LotRPS, specifically Monaboyd.
A/N: Honestly, I think I got the hardest effing lyric. And I’ve not listened to the song either, though I did at least read the lyrics to the whole thing. Kisses & cookies to why_me_why_not for the beta!
Take this city
This city should be shining on a hill
Take this city if it be your will
“Yahweh”, U2
Torrential
It’s raining again, for the third day straight, a cold and listless drizzle leaking from a shrouded sky. After another morning’s worth of wasted effort, Pete had finally thrown up his hands in disgust and sent them all home. No one, he’d proclaimed, could film proper battle sequences when the horses kept slipping in the mud.
It isn’t like Pete to be bested by something so commonplace as weather, Dom muses, noting that even Elijah is subdued enough for a makeup tech to comment on it while their Feet are removed. The constant rain has gotten to all of them a little, wearing on them. Dom can’t decide whether he wants to lose himself in the frantic, blaring cacophony of Lij’s latest favourite club, or hide in the shadows of his rented house, brooding over over a drink while he listens to the rain pelt against the tiled roof.
It’s no contest, really, when Billy quietly takes Dom aside and asks him if he wants a ride home. “I could stay with you,” Billy adds, “if you want.”
If he wants. Huh. Yes, Dom wants. It’s no secret to anyone except Billy just how much Dom wants. “You don’t have to,” Dom says, meaning please and you don’t want to anyway and don’t leave me listening to the rain by myself.
“Yes, I do,” Billy says, in that voice which Dom knows means that there’s nothing more to do but accept it.
But what’s normally a sleek, twenty-odd minute drive takes well over an hour, as Billy’s forced to slow the car to a crawl for much of the trip. The roads are awash, the ditches beside them choked with mud. Twice the car stalls, and Billy has to coax life back into the engine with dire threats thinly veiled with soothing, lilting tones. It works for a while though, right up until they actually have to turn off the road. It’s raining harder now, steady and relentless, though they can see the house from where they sit.
“Want to make a dash for it?” Dom asks, but Billy is already halfway out the door before Dom can finish the question. “Guess so,” he mutters, then he’s out of the car too, chasing Billy up the muddy path. His feet slip-slide in the slick mud as he races after Billy. Dom’s legs are slightly longer, and he’s quick, but Billy’s all agile grace, easily dodging Dom’s desperate grab and sending him skidding headlong into the muck.
“You’re paying for that, Bills!” Dom gasps, spitting out mud and scrambling awkwardly to his feet. But his eyes are bright with the laughter that he can’t quite hold back. “’M not letting you out of my sight!”
“Better not,” Billy agrees, then laces his fingers through the belt loops on Dom’s jeans and yanks him forward before Dom can quite comprehend it.
There are lips pressed against his own, Dom realizes, Billy’s lips, and that’s not all. Other bits - very hard, very intimate bits - of Billy’s anatomy are pressed against him, bits that Dom has harboured fantasies about for some time now. None of those fantasies, however, have included a veritable torrent of New Zealand rain sluicing over them, and all of them pale in comparison to the sudden reality of Billy’s delicately questing tongue and his lithe fingers splayed against the small of Dom’s back where his shirt has pulled up.
“Jesus, Bills!” Dom gasps when he can finally draw a breath. “Your hands are fucking cold!”
“Sorry,” Billy says, though the way his hands immediately sneak under the waistband of Dom’s boxers is anything but apologetic.
“Not fair,” Dom accuses as he scrabbles at the buttons on Billy’s jeans. “You’ve got me at a disadvantage.”
“Yeah?” Billy asks. Dom finally wrests open Billy’s fly hard enough that the top button pops right off. “How’s that?”
“’S unfair,” Dom continues, stroking Billy through his pants, “because you know. Dunno how you found out; don’t care, really. You already know.” He drops to his knees in front of Billy, sliding the other man’s jeans and pants down enough to allow him access to Billy’s prick. Dom’s thought about this moment - thought about it quite a bit, actually - but now that the moment’s here, unbelievably he’s almost shy about it. But then he thinks, it’s Billy, and since when did he have reason to be shy around Billy?
“You already know I’m in love with you,” Dom murmurs, and sucks the head of Billy’s cock into his mouth. Oh, Jesus, but Billy tastes good, Dom thinks as he swirls his tongue along the underside of the shaft. He wouldn’t mind watching Billy right now, watching that perfect cupid’s-bow mouth shape soundless words like oh and yes and Dom and more. But Dom can’t open his eyes - the pelting rain has seen to that - and has to content himself with the buck-thrust-roll of Billy’s hips while he fucks Dom’s mouth, hands fisted into Dom’s sopping hair.
Unlike Dom’s fantasies, though, it’s over far too soon, Billy’s cock pulsing spasmodically in Dom’s eager mouth as he comes. Dom sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Let’s go inside, he means to say, but then catches sight of Billy’s incredulous expression, his eyes strangely luminous.
“Oh, fuck,” Dom says, as the horrifying realization crashes down on him. “You didn’t know.”
He’s halfway up the porch steps before Billy can catch him, whirling clumsily around as Billy grabs at his elbow. Dom loses his balance then, landing heavily on the top step with a small thud. He doesn’t look up as Billy sits down next to him.
When Billy finally speaks, his voice is calm and sure. “Of course I bloody knew,” he says. “You’d be daft if you believed that was a secret.” Leaning in towards Dom’s ear, he adds conspiratorially, “Want to know a real secret?”
“What?” Dom mumbles, wondering suddenly if he’ll ever find the button for Billy’s fly, and whether Billy will even want it back.
“I’m in love with you,” Billy whispers, and slides one cool hand along Dom’s jaw, gently turning Dom to face him. “Okay?”
Dom nods, scarcely able to believe it.
“I love you,” Billy continues. “I love you.”
The rain is still sheeting down; they can’t even see the car through the deluge. It’s wetter, somehow, than British rain, Dom thinks; it’s somehow more purifying, more cleansing, though he’s really bloody cold now, shivering despite Billy’s arm around his shoulders.
“Well,” Dom finally says, “you’d better stay. You can’t drive home in this.”
Billy tilts his head back to look at Dom. “I am home,” he says. “You just didn’t know it before.”