More present day Monaboyd "merc" AU snippetage
also posted in pippinmctaggart's comments. Just putting it up here to keep a tab on what I've done if I ever decide to really run with this idea. unbetaed.
disclaimer - not real.
Dom greedily drank in the sight of Billy’s lean, hard muscles flexing and tightening as he watched his friend sparring with Orlando. Both men were weaving and searching out the optimal strike opportunity but, as always, it was Billy’s cat-like grace and whipcord body that drew Dom’s attention. It was like watching the most primal ballet in the world and Dom didn’t think he would ever get enough. He hated sparring with Bill for this very reason-he always wanted to watch the ripple and play of those muscles, not have to think about what each subtle motion was trying to tell him, and he usually ended up getting a very painful reminder to keep his mind on the match.
His mouth curved into a smirk as Orlando took a heel to the side of the knee, sending him crashing heavily to the floor.
“Fuck!”
“You’re not paying attention, Orlando,” Billy replied silkily.
“You haven’t got any tells, Bill!” Orlando said, exasperated. “You take my fucking knee out-in a practice, I might add-while your movements tell me you’re going to go for my shoulder!
“You’ve just learned the lesson, then, haven’t you?”
“What? That I still can’t read you?”
“Yes,” Bill said, extending his hand out to help his opponent off the floor. “You seem to think that familiarity with a person gains you something in a fight. It doesn’t. Try remembering that.”
Dom chuckled as Orlando sighed, shaking his head, before taking Billy’s hand. There was no one on the team who could read the smaller man and Bill had joined them over a year ago now. Dom had told them time and again and that they needed to listen to him because he should know-he’d been losing to Billy since the two of them had been twelve and at school together-but they simply refused to believe.
Orlando wandered out of the room muttering to himself and Billy turned to Dom, eyebrow raised in invitation.
Dom shook his head. “Not today, I’ve got a headache.”
Billy looked at Dom from the corners of his eyes, the peridot depths glinting with mischievous laughter as his mouth pursed slightly. Someone less attuned might have missed that ever so tiny and quick tightening of lips, but Dom felt the heat curl throughout his body as it always did when Billy got playful.
He still wasn’t prepared for the moment when Billy swept his legs out from under him and settled firmly between his thighs.
disclaimer - not real.
Dom greedily drank in the sight of Billy’s lean, hard muscles flexing and tightening as he watched his friend sparring with Orlando. Both men were weaving and searching out the optimal strike opportunity but, as always, it was Billy’s cat-like grace and whipcord body that drew Dom’s attention. It was like watching the most primal ballet in the world and Dom didn’t think he would ever get enough. He hated sparring with Bill for this very reason-he always wanted to watch the ripple and play of those muscles, not have to think about what each subtle motion was trying to tell him, and he usually ended up getting a very painful reminder to keep his mind on the match.
His mouth curved into a smirk as Orlando took a heel to the side of the knee, sending him crashing heavily to the floor.
“Fuck!”
“You’re not paying attention, Orlando,” Billy replied silkily.
“You haven’t got any tells, Bill!” Orlando said, exasperated. “You take my fucking knee out-in a practice, I might add-while your movements tell me you’re going to go for my shoulder!
“You’ve just learned the lesson, then, haven’t you?”
“What? That I still can’t read you?”
“Yes,” Bill said, extending his hand out to help his opponent off the floor. “You seem to think that familiarity with a person gains you something in a fight. It doesn’t. Try remembering that.”
Dom chuckled as Orlando sighed, shaking his head, before taking Billy’s hand. There was no one on the team who could read the smaller man and Bill had joined them over a year ago now. Dom had told them time and again and that they needed to listen to him because he should know-he’d been losing to Billy since the two of them had been twelve and at school together-but they simply refused to believe.
Orlando wandered out of the room muttering to himself and Billy turned to Dom, eyebrow raised in invitation.
Dom shook his head. “Not today, I’ve got a headache.”
Billy looked at Dom from the corners of his eyes, the peridot depths glinting with mischievous laughter as his mouth pursed slightly. Someone less attuned might have missed that ever so tiny and quick tightening of lips, but Dom felt the heat curl throughout his body as it always did when Billy got playful.
He still wasn’t prepared for the moment when Billy swept his legs out from under him and settled firmly between his thighs.