From the wastelands of my hard drive, Part 1
Remember that time I posted all of the works in progess on my computer? Well, it's that time again. Some of these have been posted to my journal as first parts of longer works, and some of them haven't been seen by anyone else. I don't know whether I'll ever do anything with any of these or not. I'm just... sending them out to the universe, you know?
Originally posted back in May 2005 as part one of a longer fic, I never wrote more on this one. In retrospect, it seems like a stupid idea anyway, and I don’t remember where I was planning to go with this.
8:42 AM
Billy is aware that his mobile is ringing, somewhere in the recesses of the sofa cushions, but he is more aware of the sleeping baby snuggled on his chest. With one hand firm and gentle on his niece, he fumbles for the phone with the other. In his half awake state, he realises with sudden clarity that it is probably Dominic ringing him. It comes to him that he is supposed to be at the airport right now to meet Dom’s plane.
“Shite,” Billy mutters, flipping open his mobile, and then, “hullo?”
“Boyd, you bastard, where are you?” Dom asks. “Plane landed almost an hour ago and you aren’t here.”
“Feck, Dom, I’m sorry. I fell asleep. Can you get a taxi?”
“Asleep? Busy shagging that insatiable girlfriend of yours more like. Yeah, right then, I’ll get a taxi. Be at your flat in a bit.”
“I’m not at my flat,” Billy tells him, trying to keep his voice low so as not to wake the baby.
“Then where the bloody hell are you?” Dominic asks, impatient now. “And if you tell me you’re not even in Glasgow I’ll murder you.”
“I’m at my sister’s. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
“Alright, give me the address.”
Billy gives Dominic the address to Margaret’s house, apologizes again, and rings off, dropping his mobile back into the couch cushions. He briefly considers carrying the baby upstairs to her crib, but decides he really is quite comfortable, and closes his tired eyes for a few more minutes of rest.
9:58 AM
Dominic hears the wailing from the front walk where he is struggling with his overlarge duffel bag as red and gold leaves skitter and twist in his wake. As his luggage finally submits to the brutal tug of war he is inflicting upon it, Dom wonders what exactly is going on. All sorts of questions flit through his mind, chief among them, what is Billy doing sleeping at Margaret’s when he should have been at the airport? He knocks apprehensively on the front door, not sure that he will be heard over what sounds like a very unhappy infant.
“Come on,” Dom says after several moments have passed, uneventful but for the crying and a dog barking in the distance.
Just as Dominic reaches for the buzzer the door is flung wide open by a red-faced Billy who is holding a tiny, struggling bundle and looking frustrated in the extreme. Dom is absolutely certain that he will not soon forget the image of Billy with a baby.
Without so much as a pleasant hello, Billy thrusts his niece into Dominic’s arms and runs from the front hallway babbling incoherently about a bottle. Dom stands in surprise, awkwardly juggling ten pounds of flailing baby, clueless as to what he’s meant to do.
“Billy?” he says, voice trembling above frantic crying. “Look mate, I think you’d better take her back before I drop her!”
“Dom, I’m warming a bottle!” Billy shouts back from the kitchen. “Just give me a fecking minute and I’ll take her back! And for God’s sake, don’t drop her!”
10:05 AM
Billy sits in an overstuffed chair in the lounge, the baby held in the crook of his left arm. She is quiet now, sucking greedily at her bottle as she stares up at Billy with enormous blue eyes, smiles around the plastic nipple in her mouth. He gazes down at her, returning the smile, both pleased and relieved that a second breakfast has placated her. Billy cuddles his niece closer as he kisses her tiny head and tries to ignore the ache in his heart.
Dominic watches Billy’s every move, the ease with which he holds and talks to his “wee lass” as Dominic quickly discovers Billy calls her. He is caught off guard by this hidden side of his best mate, and the sight of Bills with an infant has stirred something, some undefined longing, that Dom prefers not to think about just now. Ever since he handed the baby back to Billy, felt Billy’s soft lips brush his cheek in greeting, Dominic knows his world has shifted irreversibly.
“So this is Lucy,” says Dom as he sinks further into the chair opposite Billy. “Famousest of the Boyd offspring.”
“She’s the only Boyd offspring,” Billy says unnecessarily. “And she’s not really a Boyd anyway.”
“True enough,” Dom concedes. “And where are her mum and da?”
“They went to St. Andrews for the weekend,” says Billy, glancing up at Dom. “Some friend of Maggie’s is getting married. It’s been a shite week, I’d forgotten I was supposed to be here with Lucy, and by the time I remembered you were already on the plane.”
“And then you forgot to pick me up at the airport,” Dominic finishes for him.
“Dom, I’m sorry about that. We had a bit of a rough night last night, poor wee lass. We were having a nap in the couch when you rang.”
“’S alright, Bill. So you and I are minding Lucy this weekend?”
“Unless you’d rather stay at my flat,” Billy replies, hoping he will say no. “I’ll give you the key. You could get some proper rest. I know it’s a long flight from Hawaii.”
“I’m staying right here with you until Maggie comes back,” says Dom, grinning his cheeky grin. “Haven’t seen you for a while, and I only have a week.”
“Why Dominic, are you offering to stay and play house with me?” Billy jokes.
“Looks that way. You’d make a lovely wife, Billy.”
They are both smiling at the friendly banter, glad to see each other again after so many months, slipping back into familiarities. And though neither dares to acknowledge it, there is something new between them, a mysterious undercurrent, many things as yet unsaid, but bubbling closer to the surface with each passing second.
11:12 AM
Billy and Dominic walk side by side in comfortable silence, an art they have perfected in their years of close friendship. Lucy is strapped to Billy’s chest in a carrier, a blanket tucked around her, making noises to herself and blinking up at the cloudless early fall sky. They are attempting a bit of a walk in hopes that it will tire them all so that they can pass the afternoon in slumber.
“She’s quite lovely when she isn’t screaming,” Dominic remarks as he peeks at Lucy and is rewarded with what he wants to believe is a flirtatious coo.
“She is, isn’t she?” Billy says, stroking her cheek. “Looks just like her mum, she does.”
“I don’t know,” says Dom. “I think she has her Uncle Billy’s filtrum.”
“Wanker,” Billy comments affectionately.
“Language, William,” Dominic chastises. “You shouldn’t say such foul things in the presence of your innocent and impressionable niece.”
“Bastard,” he leans over and whispers, hand on Dom’s shoulder.
Dominic tenses at Billy’s touch, feels a warm tingling where his fingers continue to rest as they walk. He is reminded of Billy’s earlier joke about them playing house. For a few seconds, he imagines what that might be like, he and Billy with a child. All of a sudden Dominic’s daydream is interrupted by the thought of Ali. If Billy is going to have children with anyone, it will be Ali. Remember her you stupid git, Dom thinks to himself. Ali. Billy’s girlfriend.
“Shall we turn back?” Billy inquires. “Poor lamb looks sleepy.”
“Sure,” Dominic agrees. “I’m feeling a bit tired meself.”
“Dom,” says Billy as they turn round. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here.”
“So’m I,” he tells Billy, throwing an arm around his shoulder and pushing his musings away for the time being. “Now let’s get the little one home and into bed.”
11:41 AM
Dominic tickles Lucy’s small feet and kisses her bare tummy. Upstairs in the nursery, which he is inexplicably yet inordinately happy to see is not pink, but yellow, Dom begins to relax. He wonders whether he is possibly getting drunk on the sweet smell of a baby. He almost immediately changes his mind, deciding that it must be the combination of Billy and the baby.
“I don’t think I ever envisioned you changing nappies,” he tells Billy as they stand next to one another, fussing over Lucy.
“It seems a less likely thing that you would,” Billy says, pulling one of his niece’s tiny arms through the sleeve of her pyjamas as Margaret has taught him.
“Hey, I survived Pelennor Fields,” Dominic says with a straight face. “I think I could manage a few dirty nappies.”
Both Billy and Dominic are still snickering with laughter when their hands touch. Dom realizes with a shock that he has been helping Billy snap Lucy into clean clothes, following Billy’s lead in checking that he is not pinching tender skin between bits of metal. Billy gives him a soft smile, a quick touch on the inside of his wrist.
“Suppose you’ll have to learn sometime though,” says Dominic when he feels he can speak again. “You and Ali will have a house full of kids someday.”
“No,” Billy says. “We won’t.”
“’Course you will,” he says. “Once you marry her good and proper.”
“Dom, she left me.”
“She never,” says Dominic, choosing to ignore the rush of hope that fills him.
“Ali left me,” Billy repeats. He settles his niece in his arms, draping her across his chest, over his heart. He cups the back of her head as she melts into him, already closing her eyes.
“You’re having me on, Boyd,” he insists, though he knows Billy is serious.
“Earlier in the week. She’s moving her things out of the flat, probably as we’re standing here.”
“Jesus, Billy, what? Are you sure?”
“Am I sure my girlfriend of five years is leaving me and the flat we’ve been sharing? Yes, Dom, I’m quite sure.”
“But- why? I mean, what happened?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” says Billy as he sits in the rocking chair. “Go and put the kettle on while I put Lucy down. I’ll make us some lunch in a bit.”
“I’ll make the lunch,” Dominic says. He leans down to place a kiss on the top of Lucy’s head, already in love with her. As he kisses Billy’s forehead though, Dominic worries that he’s in love with his best mate as well, and he knows that’s much more serious.
12:00 PM
Billy sits and rocks Lucy as he listens to the church bells several streets away. He has never known such peace as that which he feels when he is here, in this room in his sister’s house, holding Lucy. He wishes he could sit and rock her forever, or at least until she is too bit for him to hold.
He rubs small circles on his niece’s back and she exhales a contented sigh. He hums a bit as they rock, knows that the vibrations soothe her to sleep. Billy savours this time with her, is beginning to think he needs it as he needs to breathe, as he needs Dominic.
Billy has known for years that he needs Dom. Of course he does, and Dom needs Billy. It has taken a confrontation with Ali and Ali moving out of the flat, though, for Billy to realise how much he needs Dom.
When Ali tells him she can no longer compete with Dominic, Billy does not disagree, only nods his head. She takes it a step further and says she will not continue to sleep in Billy’s bed when it is so obvious that he prefers Dom was there instead. Billy makes sure Ali knows that he does love her, in his way. He thanks her silently, after she has gone, for making this easy on him. Then he rings Dominic.
12:12 PM
Dominic is standing at the kitchen window looking out at the small bit of back yard and doesn’t turn around when Billy walks in. His forehead is pressed to the cool glass and he is unusually still. Billy puts his arms around Dominic, embracing him from behind, and buries his face in the back of Dom’s neck, his hair.
“Billy?” says Dominic.
“Shhh,” Billy says. “I just need to do this. I need you to listen to me, alright?”
Dominic nods and crosses his arms over Billy’s around his waist.
“Ali left. She’s not coming back. We’ve split up and she’s moving out of the flat. It’s over, Dom; completely over. Okay?”
“’M sorry,” Dominic mumbles, though he isn’t a bit sorry.
“Don’t be,” says Billy.
“Why did she leave?” asks Dom, sure he can guess the answer.
“She left me because she knows I wasn’t in love with her. Ali knows that I’m in love with you. She told me she always has known. I guess she decided she couldn’t do it anymore.”
Dominic is quiet as Billy’s words fill what little space there is between them. He is hesitant to speak, afraid he will say the wrong thing, afraid of confessing every feeling and thought he has ever had about Billy since they met. Dominic has never been at a loss for words in his life.
“Dom?” Billy says worriedly. “Talk to me. Please.”
“Why now?” he questions.
“Because of Lucy. Because two months ago she wasn’t here and now she is. Because life is short and ours are getting shorter every day. Because I don’t want to lie to myself anymore; I don’t want to hide. Because you’re home to me, Dom- the only person I know better than I know myself. And I love you.”
Dominic’s hands tighten on Billy’s arms as Billy says all of the things Dom has been too scared to say for years. He feels hot, happy tears begin to blur his vision, and he blinks them away. He is not ashamed to cry in front of Billy.
“Dom, please, say something.”
“I’m in love with you, too,” he finally chokes out. “Think I have been since fifteen minutes after I met you in New Zealand.”
Billy squeezes Dom as hard as he can as he allows himself to rest against him completely. He kisses the nape of Dominic’s neck and is thrilled at the quiet noise it elicits from Dom’s throat. Billy is now the speechless one.
“Come here,” Dominic says as he turns in Billy’s arms. “I want to hold on to you before you change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” says Billy. “Not ever, Dom.”
2:56 PM
Dominic is dozing on the couch when he hears stirring upstairs. Ruffling his hair and yawning, he goes to see if it is Billy or Lucy who has woken up. When he looks into the guest bedroom, he sees Billy still stretched out, sound asleep after their quick lunch and a shower. He looks peaceful Dom thinks as he takes in the faded denims and t-shirt, the now short hair which is beginning to gray a bit at the temples, and the smell of Billy’s soap. He crosses the room and pulls the duvet over his Bills, knowing that he’s exhausted already from taking care of his niece.
Seconds later Dominic is pushing open the door to Lucy’s bedroom. The baby is just beginning to rouse herself, and he somehow knows instinctively that she will be hungry again. He also knows that he will not be waking Billy to feed her. Dom makes his way to the kitchen, which is now filled with warm patches of shifting afternoon sun, and heats a bottle. He makes sure it isn’t too hot, hoping that he’s doing it right. Dominic is lacking experience with children but is determined to try.
“Hello, darling,” he says to Lucy as he lifts her from the crib. “Look what I’ve got for you. Are you hungry?”
Dom cuddles the baby close and offers her the bottle. He is proud of himself when she takes it immediately. He begins to think babies might be a bit easier than he judged upon first hearing the inconsolable bawling earlier when he’d arrived. Dominic tilts the bottle up a little and starts a meandering trail through the house. He intends to allow Billy to sleep as long as he can, and is in search of things with which to amuse himself and Lucy.
“Because your Uncle Billy needs his rest,” he tells her as they drift from room to room. “He’s much older than your Uncle Dominic, remember, so we’ll let him have his nap. Isn’t that right mein Schatz?”
There is more of this somewhere, probably handwritten in a notebook, but I’m fucked if I can find it. I wrote this in May or June of 2006, I think. I know the actual writing went in one direction, but there was a thought to change it, finish writing, and post it. Doubtful I’ll ever get round to it.
Parking his car in an empty space in front of her building, Sean got out and stretched his long legs, taking one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it into the street in a brief shower of orange sparks. Checking that the car was locked, he climbed the few stairs to the lobby door and fitted his key into the lock. He smiled tiredly at a couple of residents leaving their first floor flat, no doubt off to the quiet pub down on the corner. Wearily, Sean ascended the stairs to her third floor apartment as she insisted on calling it in her softening American accent. He always laughed when she said it and told her she ought to move into a proper house, hoping she knew he didn’t mean his own.
Not that that was really very fair of him - in the year they had been seeing each other, she had never spoken of marriage or children or so much as hinted that they might live together. It was all very comfortable, their arrangement, restful even, and Sean was grateful that she did not place demands on him - he had his career and ex-wives for that. And anyway, she was perfectly content whether he was around or not, with a teaching position at the university and friends of her own, many of whom Sean had never met. When he thought about it, which admittedly wasn’t often, as he tended to take things in stride and not over-analyse, he was more than fond of her. Once in a while he almost wanted to ask her whether she wanted more from him, but he could never quite bring himself to say the words.
Unlocking the door to her flat, Sean found the rooms dark and quiet despite the fact that it was only just seven o’clock. He’d thought she would surely be curled up on the settee with a book or the television remote, waiting to ask him whether he’d prefer Chinese or Thai takeaway. Shutting the door behind him, he moved carefully into the sitting room, more than familiar with her habit of leaving things on the floor. Fumbling for the switch on the lamp, Sean finally looked around in the pale glow in provided. The usual clutter greeted him like a long lost friend, and he was unsurprised that the mess had grown exponentially in the midst of the frenzy that was the end of term. Sean knew that now her students had been sent home for the Christmas holiday the flat would be thoroughly cleaned, only to be awash in a sea of the miscellaneous detritus of her life a week later.
He smiled to himself at this knowledge, pleased that he knew her so well, happy that the ache of missing her was easing now he was home. Leaving his shoes next to the big leather chair that had become his, Sean made his way toward the bedroom, pausing for a moment to laugh quietly at the sleeping form on the bed. She was curled on her left side, hair spread carelessly on the pillow, duvet pulled up as far as her knees as though she hadn’t been able to manage even a simple task like crawling under the covers in her exhaustion. He stepped over the pile of clothes by the door, adding his own trousers and button-down shirt to the fray before stretching out next to her in bed.
She was lovely in the weak light of the street lamp filtering through the sheer curtains. Her skin was warm to the touch despite the lack of blankets and the thin tank top and lacy knickers she wore. Sean’s eyes softened as he looked at her, one hand stroking the exposed flesh of her thighs, cupping the round fullness of her arse, ghosting quickly over her pale abdomen. He was admiring the rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts when her eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile curled her small mouth.
I began writing this early last year as a one off Monaboyd, and then it grew into something else. I posted what’s here in 2 parts to my journal and monaboyd, but never wrote another thing. I still know where I was going with it, but I doubt I’ll go back to it.
Billy was never sure exactly what he was looking for on the nights the loneliness drove him from his small, neat house. Undecided about many things and bored with his job, not much held his attention, and he was beginning to feel jaded after thirty-eight years and his recent divorce. Billy hesitated to use the word old, resented its negative connotations, especially when the nameless urge for more drew him inexorably from his home and all that was familiar.
It started with frequenting his local pub three or four nights a week. After a month, Billy realised it was not enough to sit amongst the regulars and drink a pint or two, despite his ex-wife’s assertion that he was developing a drink problem. He continued to go home feeling too sober - empty and unsatisfied in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. He thought vaguely of venturing out to the Glasgow clubs, but quickly dismissed the idea as a silly fantasy. Though he looked younger than his years, Billy knew his limits. He was also beginning to think that Miranda had been right about his drinking.
He found the bar by fortunate accident after an evening at the theatre. He'd sent his date (a rather quiet Sheffielder with lovely large hands) home in a taxi and wandered the streets of the city feeling expectant, on edge. Billy eventually found himself at a pub, whiskey in hand, and later he would not be able to say how he'd got there.
Two drinks in and Billy was staring across the room into the face of a man he had never met. The round nose and soft lips were an interesting contrast to the days old stubble on his crooked jaw, and wearing eyeliner, he looked rather… edible. Billy cringed as he thought it, the word sounding stupid, inaccurate, even in his head. Nevertheless, he was planning how best to approach the lad hunched over his drink. He couldn't have known that he wouldn't have to.
Lighting a cigarette and signaling the bartender for another drink, Billy was mildly surprised to feel a warm hand covering his own before he could reach into his wallet for the ten pound note to pay for his whiskey. The man he'd been eyeing shook his head and spoke quietly to the bartender, who nodded. Billy raised an eyebrow, but followed the man to a booth at the back of the pub.
They sat across from one another, smoking and sipping their drinks, knees brushing under the table, and on closer inspection, he was not so much a man as a boy, his clothes and some subtle look of innocence giving him away. He introduced himself as Dominic, and Billy noted that he was not a local. A passing stranger then, and obviously a friendly one if he was buying drinks. Billy could play this game, had played it before, though admittedly not well if the fact that he was divorced was any indication. He was not an expert, but he knew enough to recognise the signs of a man on the pull.
Finishing the last of his whiskey, Billy watched with mild interest as Dominic fingered the leather cuffs at his wrists. He noticed the chipped and faded nail varnish, a deep blue, and realised suddenly that this lad, Dominic, if indeed that was his name, was no passing stranger. Billy laid one hand over Dominic's, stilling them.
"How much?" he inquired softly, dropping all pretense of small talk.
Amazingly, Dominic blushed, fidgeting in his seat as he whispered, "Twenty."
"Where?" said Billy.
"Not here," Dominic replied. "The bartender, Elijah, he's a friend, but our friendship doesn't extend to letting me take customers in the back."
Billy nodded his understanding, let go of the other man's hands, and settled back in his seat. "And what will twenty get me?"
"A blow job," Dominic shrugged, lifting his gaze from the table and meeting Billy's eyes.
"Now back to the previous question. Where?"
Dominic was quiet for a moment, the absence of his words measured by the steady beating of Billy’s heart, and Billy wondered had he changed his mind. Finally, he stood. "Follow me."
Seconds later they were outside, walking companionably if aimlessly through the darkening summer night. Billy was silent, not feeling the need to speak and trying not to think about what he was doing, attempting to nudge away the whisper of his conscience. He'd never done anything like this before, not in all the years he’d been married to Miranda, not before or after her, though there certainly had been men, and he couldn't think why he was doing it now.
"Here," Dominic said, slowing his pace and ducking into a side street that led to a dead end, his trainers scuffling on the pavement.
"You've been here before," Billy mocked gently in a voice that did not belie the nervousness he felt.
"Can't imagine what would make you think that," he said with a grin and an expectant look.
"Cheeky, aren't you?" said Billy, pulling a twenty from inside his suit jacket and stuffing it into Dominic's front trouser pocket.
"Don't have to be," Dominic told him coyly, suddenly all business. "I can be anything you'd like."
"Then don't be trite," Billy said, a stinging sharpness in his voice. "That line is probably as old as your profession, as it were. Don't be trite with me, Dominic. You're anything but lacking originality." He knew at that moment it was true - more real and tangible than anything in his life.
Dominic stared at him.
"I'm right, aren't I, lad?"
He nodded, unsure whether to speak, but hazarded a few words nonetheless. "I can be a lot of things, Billy. What - what would please you the most?"
Billy smiled, raising a hand and letting his fingers whisper over Dominic's cheek. "What would please me the most, Dominic," he said very softly, "is for you to get on your knees. I want you trembling… and obedient."
Dominic's eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He did not look away from Billy as the shiver worked its way through him. Finally, he lowered his eyes and bowed his head, submissive.
******
Dominic’s steps were light on the staircase as he climbed to his third floor flat. Contrary to his landlord’s belief, he did try to be quiet when he came in late, mindful of old Mrs. Clark on the first floor and the young couple with the baby on the second. Most of the rest of the tenants were university students - generally quite loud ones. Pulling his keys from his pocket, Dominic watched as the twenty pound note fluttered delicately to the old wooden floor. He hesitated before picking it up and pushing open the door.
Shoes and keys and the other trinkets from his pockets were left on the table, and then Dominic was following the glow of the lamp drawing him into the bedroom. Orlando sat huddled at the small desk, fingers flying over the keys of his laptop, his hair shoved behind his ears, the ends curling around his neck, still damp from the shower.
“You’re home early,” he said, words awkward and distorted around the pen clamped between his teeth.
“Orlando, it’s nearly midnight.” Dominic bent and kissed the top of his head, sliding an affectionate hand over his chest.
“Early for you,” Orlando pointed out, pausing in his typing.
“Maybe” he conceded, squeezing his flatmate’s shoulder before turning away. “How was work?”
“Not bad. Went out after with some people from the shop.”
“Been writing since you got home?” Dominic inquired, pulling off his shirt.
“Yeah. Don’t know what I’ll do when term starts again. I won’t have any time to write.”
“You’ll have papers to write.” He slid his jeans down over his hips, leaving them where they fell on the floor. “Christ, it’s bloody hot in here tonight.”
“Hot outside,” he mumbled, resuming his erratic typing, frowning at his computer. “Shit.” Orlando stretched and closed his laptop, swiveling in his chair to look at Dominic. “What did you do tonight?”
Dominic shrugged, hoping the gesture looked casual. “Not much. Pub. The one where Elijah works.”
“Dom, you didn’t,” Orlando said as he stood.
Dominic glared at him, recognising the disapproval in his voice.
“Why do you do it?” Orlando sat next to him on the edge of the bed they shared.
“I didn’t do anything,” Dominic said defensively, looking away.
“Bollocks. I know you better than you think.” He sighed, placing a tentative hand on his friend’s arm. “You’ll get caught one of these days, you know. One of these blokes will turn out to be a policeman and you’ll be arrested. I don’t understand. It’s not like you need the money. Your mum and dad pay for uni and everything else. And I know it isn’t because you can’t get a date. You used to have half the school parading in and out of the place, girls and blokes both. So what is it? Why do you do it?”
“I’m not. I didn’t.” Dominic shook off Orlando’s hand and stood. “’M taking a shower.”
“You always say that. But you are. I know it. I can tell.”
“You can’t tell if I’ve not done anything,” said Dominic.
“Right. You come back here to the flat. Ask me about my day. Tell me you’ve not been out sucking off blokes for money. Into the shower. Then it’s the mouthwash and into bed next to me wanting a cuddle.”
“I’ll sleep on the sofa, then.”
“Dom, fuck’s sake, that’s not the point!”
“Orli, I just… don’t want to talk about it.” Dominic moved toward the bathroom, turning on the shower, ignoring his tears until he could pretend they didn’t exist as they slid down his face mingled with water as hot as he could stand it. He stood under the spray until it was running lukewarm, hand furiously working his cock, suppressing a moan and the image of Billy’s face. Dominic wanted to forget the inscrutable look Billy had given him as he spat in the alley halfway between the pub and his flat, ignore the hardening length in his own trousers that would expose him for the liar he was.
Dominic shut off the water and toweled himself dry, reaching for the mouthwash. Sod it, he thought. Let Orlando be wrong for once. Flicking the light switch, he stood in the bedroom doorway, looking at his best mate stretched out in the soft white sheets, eyes closed to the darkness, to the things he saw but didn’t understand. Dominic knew it would be easier if he could explain to Orli why he did what he did, but that would mean thinking about it, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Come to bed,” Orlando said softly. “Stop staring at me.”
Finally exhausted, Dominic fell into bed beside him, careful not to touch him. Several seconds passed before Orlando heaved a great affected sigh and rolled closer, drawing Dominic into the familiar circle of his arms.
“Dom, you have to stop,” he murmured into his neck.
“I know” Dominic nodded. “It’s just a bit of fun. A game.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t. Don’t worry.” He threaded his fingers through Orlando’s hair.
As sleep eventually took him, Billy’s last words to him came echoing back: Do you have somewhere to go tonight, lad?
Originally posted back in May 2005 as part one of a longer fic, I never wrote more on this one. In retrospect, it seems like a stupid idea anyway, and I don’t remember where I was planning to go with this.
8:42 AM
Billy is aware that his mobile is ringing, somewhere in the recesses of the sofa cushions, but he is more aware of the sleeping baby snuggled on his chest. With one hand firm and gentle on his niece, he fumbles for the phone with the other. In his half awake state, he realises with sudden clarity that it is probably Dominic ringing him. It comes to him that he is supposed to be at the airport right now to meet Dom’s plane.
“Shite,” Billy mutters, flipping open his mobile, and then, “hullo?”
“Boyd, you bastard, where are you?” Dom asks. “Plane landed almost an hour ago and you aren’t here.”
“Feck, Dom, I’m sorry. I fell asleep. Can you get a taxi?”
“Asleep? Busy shagging that insatiable girlfriend of yours more like. Yeah, right then, I’ll get a taxi. Be at your flat in a bit.”
“I’m not at my flat,” Billy tells him, trying to keep his voice low so as not to wake the baby.
“Then where the bloody hell are you?” Dominic asks, impatient now. “And if you tell me you’re not even in Glasgow I’ll murder you.”
“I’m at my sister’s. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
“Alright, give me the address.”
Billy gives Dominic the address to Margaret’s house, apologizes again, and rings off, dropping his mobile back into the couch cushions. He briefly considers carrying the baby upstairs to her crib, but decides he really is quite comfortable, and closes his tired eyes for a few more minutes of rest.
9:58 AM
Dominic hears the wailing from the front walk where he is struggling with his overlarge duffel bag as red and gold leaves skitter and twist in his wake. As his luggage finally submits to the brutal tug of war he is inflicting upon it, Dom wonders what exactly is going on. All sorts of questions flit through his mind, chief among them, what is Billy doing sleeping at Margaret’s when he should have been at the airport? He knocks apprehensively on the front door, not sure that he will be heard over what sounds like a very unhappy infant.
“Come on,” Dom says after several moments have passed, uneventful but for the crying and a dog barking in the distance.
Just as Dominic reaches for the buzzer the door is flung wide open by a red-faced Billy who is holding a tiny, struggling bundle and looking frustrated in the extreme. Dom is absolutely certain that he will not soon forget the image of Billy with a baby.
Without so much as a pleasant hello, Billy thrusts his niece into Dominic’s arms and runs from the front hallway babbling incoherently about a bottle. Dom stands in surprise, awkwardly juggling ten pounds of flailing baby, clueless as to what he’s meant to do.
“Billy?” he says, voice trembling above frantic crying. “Look mate, I think you’d better take her back before I drop her!”
“Dom, I’m warming a bottle!” Billy shouts back from the kitchen. “Just give me a fecking minute and I’ll take her back! And for God’s sake, don’t drop her!”
10:05 AM
Billy sits in an overstuffed chair in the lounge, the baby held in the crook of his left arm. She is quiet now, sucking greedily at her bottle as she stares up at Billy with enormous blue eyes, smiles around the plastic nipple in her mouth. He gazes down at her, returning the smile, both pleased and relieved that a second breakfast has placated her. Billy cuddles his niece closer as he kisses her tiny head and tries to ignore the ache in his heart.
Dominic watches Billy’s every move, the ease with which he holds and talks to his “wee lass” as Dominic quickly discovers Billy calls her. He is caught off guard by this hidden side of his best mate, and the sight of Bills with an infant has stirred something, some undefined longing, that Dom prefers not to think about just now. Ever since he handed the baby back to Billy, felt Billy’s soft lips brush his cheek in greeting, Dominic knows his world has shifted irreversibly.
“So this is Lucy,” says Dom as he sinks further into the chair opposite Billy. “Famousest of the Boyd offspring.”
“She’s the only Boyd offspring,” Billy says unnecessarily. “And she’s not really a Boyd anyway.”
“True enough,” Dom concedes. “And where are her mum and da?”
“They went to St. Andrews for the weekend,” says Billy, glancing up at Dom. “Some friend of Maggie’s is getting married. It’s been a shite week, I’d forgotten I was supposed to be here with Lucy, and by the time I remembered you were already on the plane.”
“And then you forgot to pick me up at the airport,” Dominic finishes for him.
“Dom, I’m sorry about that. We had a bit of a rough night last night, poor wee lass. We were having a nap in the couch when you rang.”
“’S alright, Bill. So you and I are minding Lucy this weekend?”
“Unless you’d rather stay at my flat,” Billy replies, hoping he will say no. “I’ll give you the key. You could get some proper rest. I know it’s a long flight from Hawaii.”
“I’m staying right here with you until Maggie comes back,” says Dom, grinning his cheeky grin. “Haven’t seen you for a while, and I only have a week.”
“Why Dominic, are you offering to stay and play house with me?” Billy jokes.
“Looks that way. You’d make a lovely wife, Billy.”
They are both smiling at the friendly banter, glad to see each other again after so many months, slipping back into familiarities. And though neither dares to acknowledge it, there is something new between them, a mysterious undercurrent, many things as yet unsaid, but bubbling closer to the surface with each passing second.
11:12 AM
Billy and Dominic walk side by side in comfortable silence, an art they have perfected in their years of close friendship. Lucy is strapped to Billy’s chest in a carrier, a blanket tucked around her, making noises to herself and blinking up at the cloudless early fall sky. They are attempting a bit of a walk in hopes that it will tire them all so that they can pass the afternoon in slumber.
“She’s quite lovely when she isn’t screaming,” Dominic remarks as he peeks at Lucy and is rewarded with what he wants to believe is a flirtatious coo.
“She is, isn’t she?” Billy says, stroking her cheek. “Looks just like her mum, she does.”
“I don’t know,” says Dom. “I think she has her Uncle Billy’s filtrum.”
“Wanker,” Billy comments affectionately.
“Language, William,” Dominic chastises. “You shouldn’t say such foul things in the presence of your innocent and impressionable niece.”
“Bastard,” he leans over and whispers, hand on Dom’s shoulder.
Dominic tenses at Billy’s touch, feels a warm tingling where his fingers continue to rest as they walk. He is reminded of Billy’s earlier joke about them playing house. For a few seconds, he imagines what that might be like, he and Billy with a child. All of a sudden Dominic’s daydream is interrupted by the thought of Ali. If Billy is going to have children with anyone, it will be Ali. Remember her you stupid git, Dom thinks to himself. Ali. Billy’s girlfriend.
“Shall we turn back?” Billy inquires. “Poor lamb looks sleepy.”
“Sure,” Dominic agrees. “I’m feeling a bit tired meself.”
“Dom,” says Billy as they turn round. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here.”
“So’m I,” he tells Billy, throwing an arm around his shoulder and pushing his musings away for the time being. “Now let’s get the little one home and into bed.”
11:41 AM
Dominic tickles Lucy’s small feet and kisses her bare tummy. Upstairs in the nursery, which he is inexplicably yet inordinately happy to see is not pink, but yellow, Dom begins to relax. He wonders whether he is possibly getting drunk on the sweet smell of a baby. He almost immediately changes his mind, deciding that it must be the combination of Billy and the baby.
“I don’t think I ever envisioned you changing nappies,” he tells Billy as they stand next to one another, fussing over Lucy.
“It seems a less likely thing that you would,” Billy says, pulling one of his niece’s tiny arms through the sleeve of her pyjamas as Margaret has taught him.
“Hey, I survived Pelennor Fields,” Dominic says with a straight face. “I think I could manage a few dirty nappies.”
Both Billy and Dominic are still snickering with laughter when their hands touch. Dom realizes with a shock that he has been helping Billy snap Lucy into clean clothes, following Billy’s lead in checking that he is not pinching tender skin between bits of metal. Billy gives him a soft smile, a quick touch on the inside of his wrist.
“Suppose you’ll have to learn sometime though,” says Dominic when he feels he can speak again. “You and Ali will have a house full of kids someday.”
“No,” Billy says. “We won’t.”
“’Course you will,” he says. “Once you marry her good and proper.”
“Dom, she left me.”
“She never,” says Dominic, choosing to ignore the rush of hope that fills him.
“Ali left me,” Billy repeats. He settles his niece in his arms, draping her across his chest, over his heart. He cups the back of her head as she melts into him, already closing her eyes.
“You’re having me on, Boyd,” he insists, though he knows Billy is serious.
“Earlier in the week. She’s moving her things out of the flat, probably as we’re standing here.”
“Jesus, Billy, what? Are you sure?”
“Am I sure my girlfriend of five years is leaving me and the flat we’ve been sharing? Yes, Dom, I’m quite sure.”
“But- why? I mean, what happened?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” says Billy as he sits in the rocking chair. “Go and put the kettle on while I put Lucy down. I’ll make us some lunch in a bit.”
“I’ll make the lunch,” Dominic says. He leans down to place a kiss on the top of Lucy’s head, already in love with her. As he kisses Billy’s forehead though, Dominic worries that he’s in love with his best mate as well, and he knows that’s much more serious.
12:00 PM
Billy sits and rocks Lucy as he listens to the church bells several streets away. He has never known such peace as that which he feels when he is here, in this room in his sister’s house, holding Lucy. He wishes he could sit and rock her forever, or at least until she is too bit for him to hold.
He rubs small circles on his niece’s back and she exhales a contented sigh. He hums a bit as they rock, knows that the vibrations soothe her to sleep. Billy savours this time with her, is beginning to think he needs it as he needs to breathe, as he needs Dominic.
Billy has known for years that he needs Dom. Of course he does, and Dom needs Billy. It has taken a confrontation with Ali and Ali moving out of the flat, though, for Billy to realise how much he needs Dom.
When Ali tells him she can no longer compete with Dominic, Billy does not disagree, only nods his head. She takes it a step further and says she will not continue to sleep in Billy’s bed when it is so obvious that he prefers Dom was there instead. Billy makes sure Ali knows that he does love her, in his way. He thanks her silently, after she has gone, for making this easy on him. Then he rings Dominic.
12:12 PM
Dominic is standing at the kitchen window looking out at the small bit of back yard and doesn’t turn around when Billy walks in. His forehead is pressed to the cool glass and he is unusually still. Billy puts his arms around Dominic, embracing him from behind, and buries his face in the back of Dom’s neck, his hair.
“Billy?” says Dominic.
“Shhh,” Billy says. “I just need to do this. I need you to listen to me, alright?”
Dominic nods and crosses his arms over Billy’s around his waist.
“Ali left. She’s not coming back. We’ve split up and she’s moving out of the flat. It’s over, Dom; completely over. Okay?”
“’M sorry,” Dominic mumbles, though he isn’t a bit sorry.
“Don’t be,” says Billy.
“Why did she leave?” asks Dom, sure he can guess the answer.
“She left me because she knows I wasn’t in love with her. Ali knows that I’m in love with you. She told me she always has known. I guess she decided she couldn’t do it anymore.”
Dominic is quiet as Billy’s words fill what little space there is between them. He is hesitant to speak, afraid he will say the wrong thing, afraid of confessing every feeling and thought he has ever had about Billy since they met. Dominic has never been at a loss for words in his life.
“Dom?” Billy says worriedly. “Talk to me. Please.”
“Why now?” he questions.
“Because of Lucy. Because two months ago she wasn’t here and now she is. Because life is short and ours are getting shorter every day. Because I don’t want to lie to myself anymore; I don’t want to hide. Because you’re home to me, Dom- the only person I know better than I know myself. And I love you.”
Dominic’s hands tighten on Billy’s arms as Billy says all of the things Dom has been too scared to say for years. He feels hot, happy tears begin to blur his vision, and he blinks them away. He is not ashamed to cry in front of Billy.
“Dom, please, say something.”
“I’m in love with you, too,” he finally chokes out. “Think I have been since fifteen minutes after I met you in New Zealand.”
Billy squeezes Dom as hard as he can as he allows himself to rest against him completely. He kisses the nape of Dominic’s neck and is thrilled at the quiet noise it elicits from Dom’s throat. Billy is now the speechless one.
“Come here,” Dominic says as he turns in Billy’s arms. “I want to hold on to you before you change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” says Billy. “Not ever, Dom.”
2:56 PM
Dominic is dozing on the couch when he hears stirring upstairs. Ruffling his hair and yawning, he goes to see if it is Billy or Lucy who has woken up. When he looks into the guest bedroom, he sees Billy still stretched out, sound asleep after their quick lunch and a shower. He looks peaceful Dom thinks as he takes in the faded denims and t-shirt, the now short hair which is beginning to gray a bit at the temples, and the smell of Billy’s soap. He crosses the room and pulls the duvet over his Bills, knowing that he’s exhausted already from taking care of his niece.
Seconds later Dominic is pushing open the door to Lucy’s bedroom. The baby is just beginning to rouse herself, and he somehow knows instinctively that she will be hungry again. He also knows that he will not be waking Billy to feed her. Dom makes his way to the kitchen, which is now filled with warm patches of shifting afternoon sun, and heats a bottle. He makes sure it isn’t too hot, hoping that he’s doing it right. Dominic is lacking experience with children but is determined to try.
“Hello, darling,” he says to Lucy as he lifts her from the crib. “Look what I’ve got for you. Are you hungry?”
Dom cuddles the baby close and offers her the bottle. He is proud of himself when she takes it immediately. He begins to think babies might be a bit easier than he judged upon first hearing the inconsolable bawling earlier when he’d arrived. Dominic tilts the bottle up a little and starts a meandering trail through the house. He intends to allow Billy to sleep as long as he can, and is in search of things with which to amuse himself and Lucy.
“Because your Uncle Billy needs his rest,” he tells her as they drift from room to room. “He’s much older than your Uncle Dominic, remember, so we’ll let him have his nap. Isn’t that right mein Schatz?”
There is more of this somewhere, probably handwritten in a notebook, but I’m fucked if I can find it. I wrote this in May or June of 2006, I think. I know the actual writing went in one direction, but there was a thought to change it, finish writing, and post it. Doubtful I’ll ever get round to it.
Parking his car in an empty space in front of her building, Sean got out and stretched his long legs, taking one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it into the street in a brief shower of orange sparks. Checking that the car was locked, he climbed the few stairs to the lobby door and fitted his key into the lock. He smiled tiredly at a couple of residents leaving their first floor flat, no doubt off to the quiet pub down on the corner. Wearily, Sean ascended the stairs to her third floor apartment as she insisted on calling it in her softening American accent. He always laughed when she said it and told her she ought to move into a proper house, hoping she knew he didn’t mean his own.
Not that that was really very fair of him - in the year they had been seeing each other, she had never spoken of marriage or children or so much as hinted that they might live together. It was all very comfortable, their arrangement, restful even, and Sean was grateful that she did not place demands on him - he had his career and ex-wives for that. And anyway, she was perfectly content whether he was around or not, with a teaching position at the university and friends of her own, many of whom Sean had never met. When he thought about it, which admittedly wasn’t often, as he tended to take things in stride and not over-analyse, he was more than fond of her. Once in a while he almost wanted to ask her whether she wanted more from him, but he could never quite bring himself to say the words.
Unlocking the door to her flat, Sean found the rooms dark and quiet despite the fact that it was only just seven o’clock. He’d thought she would surely be curled up on the settee with a book or the television remote, waiting to ask him whether he’d prefer Chinese or Thai takeaway. Shutting the door behind him, he moved carefully into the sitting room, more than familiar with her habit of leaving things on the floor. Fumbling for the switch on the lamp, Sean finally looked around in the pale glow in provided. The usual clutter greeted him like a long lost friend, and he was unsurprised that the mess had grown exponentially in the midst of the frenzy that was the end of term. Sean knew that now her students had been sent home for the Christmas holiday the flat would be thoroughly cleaned, only to be awash in a sea of the miscellaneous detritus of her life a week later.
He smiled to himself at this knowledge, pleased that he knew her so well, happy that the ache of missing her was easing now he was home. Leaving his shoes next to the big leather chair that had become his, Sean made his way toward the bedroom, pausing for a moment to laugh quietly at the sleeping form on the bed. She was curled on her left side, hair spread carelessly on the pillow, duvet pulled up as far as her knees as though she hadn’t been able to manage even a simple task like crawling under the covers in her exhaustion. He stepped over the pile of clothes by the door, adding his own trousers and button-down shirt to the fray before stretching out next to her in bed.
She was lovely in the weak light of the street lamp filtering through the sheer curtains. Her skin was warm to the touch despite the lack of blankets and the thin tank top and lacy knickers she wore. Sean’s eyes softened as he looked at her, one hand stroking the exposed flesh of her thighs, cupping the round fullness of her arse, ghosting quickly over her pale abdomen. He was admiring the rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts when her eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile curled her small mouth.
I began writing this early last year as a one off Monaboyd, and then it grew into something else. I posted what’s here in 2 parts to my journal and monaboyd, but never wrote another thing. I still know where I was going with it, but I doubt I’ll go back to it.
Billy was never sure exactly what he was looking for on the nights the loneliness drove him from his small, neat house. Undecided about many things and bored with his job, not much held his attention, and he was beginning to feel jaded after thirty-eight years and his recent divorce. Billy hesitated to use the word old, resented its negative connotations, especially when the nameless urge for more drew him inexorably from his home and all that was familiar.
It started with frequenting his local pub three or four nights a week. After a month, Billy realised it was not enough to sit amongst the regulars and drink a pint or two, despite his ex-wife’s assertion that he was developing a drink problem. He continued to go home feeling too sober - empty and unsatisfied in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. He thought vaguely of venturing out to the Glasgow clubs, but quickly dismissed the idea as a silly fantasy. Though he looked younger than his years, Billy knew his limits. He was also beginning to think that Miranda had been right about his drinking.
He found the bar by fortunate accident after an evening at the theatre. He'd sent his date (a rather quiet Sheffielder with lovely large hands) home in a taxi and wandered the streets of the city feeling expectant, on edge. Billy eventually found himself at a pub, whiskey in hand, and later he would not be able to say how he'd got there.
Two drinks in and Billy was staring across the room into the face of a man he had never met. The round nose and soft lips were an interesting contrast to the days old stubble on his crooked jaw, and wearing eyeliner, he looked rather… edible. Billy cringed as he thought it, the word sounding stupid, inaccurate, even in his head. Nevertheless, he was planning how best to approach the lad hunched over his drink. He couldn't have known that he wouldn't have to.
Lighting a cigarette and signaling the bartender for another drink, Billy was mildly surprised to feel a warm hand covering his own before he could reach into his wallet for the ten pound note to pay for his whiskey. The man he'd been eyeing shook his head and spoke quietly to the bartender, who nodded. Billy raised an eyebrow, but followed the man to a booth at the back of the pub.
They sat across from one another, smoking and sipping their drinks, knees brushing under the table, and on closer inspection, he was not so much a man as a boy, his clothes and some subtle look of innocence giving him away. He introduced himself as Dominic, and Billy noted that he was not a local. A passing stranger then, and obviously a friendly one if he was buying drinks. Billy could play this game, had played it before, though admittedly not well if the fact that he was divorced was any indication. He was not an expert, but he knew enough to recognise the signs of a man on the pull.
Finishing the last of his whiskey, Billy watched with mild interest as Dominic fingered the leather cuffs at his wrists. He noticed the chipped and faded nail varnish, a deep blue, and realised suddenly that this lad, Dominic, if indeed that was his name, was no passing stranger. Billy laid one hand over Dominic's, stilling them.
"How much?" he inquired softly, dropping all pretense of small talk.
Amazingly, Dominic blushed, fidgeting in his seat as he whispered, "Twenty."
"Where?" said Billy.
"Not here," Dominic replied. "The bartender, Elijah, he's a friend, but our friendship doesn't extend to letting me take customers in the back."
Billy nodded his understanding, let go of the other man's hands, and settled back in his seat. "And what will twenty get me?"
"A blow job," Dominic shrugged, lifting his gaze from the table and meeting Billy's eyes.
"Now back to the previous question. Where?"
Dominic was quiet for a moment, the absence of his words measured by the steady beating of Billy’s heart, and Billy wondered had he changed his mind. Finally, he stood. "Follow me."
Seconds later they were outside, walking companionably if aimlessly through the darkening summer night. Billy was silent, not feeling the need to speak and trying not to think about what he was doing, attempting to nudge away the whisper of his conscience. He'd never done anything like this before, not in all the years he’d been married to Miranda, not before or after her, though there certainly had been men, and he couldn't think why he was doing it now.
"Here," Dominic said, slowing his pace and ducking into a side street that led to a dead end, his trainers scuffling on the pavement.
"You've been here before," Billy mocked gently in a voice that did not belie the nervousness he felt.
"Can't imagine what would make you think that," he said with a grin and an expectant look.
"Cheeky, aren't you?" said Billy, pulling a twenty from inside his suit jacket and stuffing it into Dominic's front trouser pocket.
"Don't have to be," Dominic told him coyly, suddenly all business. "I can be anything you'd like."
"Then don't be trite," Billy said, a stinging sharpness in his voice. "That line is probably as old as your profession, as it were. Don't be trite with me, Dominic. You're anything but lacking originality." He knew at that moment it was true - more real and tangible than anything in his life.
Dominic stared at him.
"I'm right, aren't I, lad?"
He nodded, unsure whether to speak, but hazarded a few words nonetheless. "I can be a lot of things, Billy. What - what would please you the most?"
Billy smiled, raising a hand and letting his fingers whisper over Dominic's cheek. "What would please me the most, Dominic," he said very softly, "is for you to get on your knees. I want you trembling… and obedient."
Dominic's eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He did not look away from Billy as the shiver worked its way through him. Finally, he lowered his eyes and bowed his head, submissive.
******
Dominic’s steps were light on the staircase as he climbed to his third floor flat. Contrary to his landlord’s belief, he did try to be quiet when he came in late, mindful of old Mrs. Clark on the first floor and the young couple with the baby on the second. Most of the rest of the tenants were university students - generally quite loud ones. Pulling his keys from his pocket, Dominic watched as the twenty pound note fluttered delicately to the old wooden floor. He hesitated before picking it up and pushing open the door.
Shoes and keys and the other trinkets from his pockets were left on the table, and then Dominic was following the glow of the lamp drawing him into the bedroom. Orlando sat huddled at the small desk, fingers flying over the keys of his laptop, his hair shoved behind his ears, the ends curling around his neck, still damp from the shower.
“You’re home early,” he said, words awkward and distorted around the pen clamped between his teeth.
“Orlando, it’s nearly midnight.” Dominic bent and kissed the top of his head, sliding an affectionate hand over his chest.
“Early for you,” Orlando pointed out, pausing in his typing.
“Maybe” he conceded, squeezing his flatmate’s shoulder before turning away. “How was work?”
“Not bad. Went out after with some people from the shop.”
“Been writing since you got home?” Dominic inquired, pulling off his shirt.
“Yeah. Don’t know what I’ll do when term starts again. I won’t have any time to write.”
“You’ll have papers to write.” He slid his jeans down over his hips, leaving them where they fell on the floor. “Christ, it’s bloody hot in here tonight.”
“Hot outside,” he mumbled, resuming his erratic typing, frowning at his computer. “Shit.” Orlando stretched and closed his laptop, swiveling in his chair to look at Dominic. “What did you do tonight?”
Dominic shrugged, hoping the gesture looked casual. “Not much. Pub. The one where Elijah works.”
“Dom, you didn’t,” Orlando said as he stood.
Dominic glared at him, recognising the disapproval in his voice.
“Why do you do it?” Orlando sat next to him on the edge of the bed they shared.
“I didn’t do anything,” Dominic said defensively, looking away.
“Bollocks. I know you better than you think.” He sighed, placing a tentative hand on his friend’s arm. “You’ll get caught one of these days, you know. One of these blokes will turn out to be a policeman and you’ll be arrested. I don’t understand. It’s not like you need the money. Your mum and dad pay for uni and everything else. And I know it isn’t because you can’t get a date. You used to have half the school parading in and out of the place, girls and blokes both. So what is it? Why do you do it?”
“I’m not. I didn’t.” Dominic shook off Orlando’s hand and stood. “’M taking a shower.”
“You always say that. But you are. I know it. I can tell.”
“You can’t tell if I’ve not done anything,” said Dominic.
“Right. You come back here to the flat. Ask me about my day. Tell me you’ve not been out sucking off blokes for money. Into the shower. Then it’s the mouthwash and into bed next to me wanting a cuddle.”
“I’ll sleep on the sofa, then.”
“Dom, fuck’s sake, that’s not the point!”
“Orli, I just… don’t want to talk about it.” Dominic moved toward the bathroom, turning on the shower, ignoring his tears until he could pretend they didn’t exist as they slid down his face mingled with water as hot as he could stand it. He stood under the spray until it was running lukewarm, hand furiously working his cock, suppressing a moan and the image of Billy’s face. Dominic wanted to forget the inscrutable look Billy had given him as he spat in the alley halfway between the pub and his flat, ignore the hardening length in his own trousers that would expose him for the liar he was.
Dominic shut off the water and toweled himself dry, reaching for the mouthwash. Sod it, he thought. Let Orlando be wrong for once. Flicking the light switch, he stood in the bedroom doorway, looking at his best mate stretched out in the soft white sheets, eyes closed to the darkness, to the things he saw but didn’t understand. Dominic knew it would be easier if he could explain to Orli why he did what he did, but that would mean thinking about it, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Come to bed,” Orlando said softly. “Stop staring at me.”
Finally exhausted, Dominic fell into bed beside him, careful not to touch him. Several seconds passed before Orlando heaved a great affected sigh and rolled closer, drawing Dominic into the familiar circle of his arms.
“Dom, you have to stop,” he murmured into his neck.
“I know” Dominic nodded. “It’s just a bit of fun. A game.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t. Don’t worry.” He threaded his fingers through Orlando’s hair.
As sleep eventually took him, Billy’s last words to him came echoing back: Do you have somewhere to go tonight, lad?