Fealty (Bernard/Dom, Billy; PG-13)
Title: Fealty
Author: Mirabile Dictu
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: BH/DM, BB
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Billy misses Dom.
Disclaimer: This could not be less true.
A/N: Darling shirasade runs the slashy_letters community, and this go-round I gave it a try. My recipient was hipolyta_d, who asked for Bernard/Dom. Now, I had never tried to write Bernard in my life, and hadn't done any research on him. I ended up subverting her request, but she appears to have very kindly forgiven me. At any rate, here's what I sent her.
Beta as always by the wonderful empress_wu, who makes me happier than I can tell you. Everyone should have a friend as wise, as kind, and as generous as she. Encouragement from dear princessofg, who just better not desert LOTR for The Sentinel.
Fealty
Bernard was instantly popular on the set, rivaling Viggo in his outrageous behaviour. He'd dance, primp, mime, sing at the slightest provocation -- and he was a toucher. Billy watched in laughing amazement as he and Viggo bowed to each other, as kings should, and then embraced and kissed. Miranda loved him immediately, she whispered to Billy one night, staring at Bernard, who was dancing with Karl at the moment. Let's douse him in beer, Billy suggested; to his surprise, Miranda thought it a brilliant idea and dashed off, Billy's beer in hand, thumb over the opening, shaking the bottle and spraying it over everyone.
Billy sat back and watched.
Dom thought the world of Bernard as well. Dom was attracted to any glittering thing, Billy had discovered early on, and Bernard glittered in his own way. He made Dom laugh till snot came out his nose and Billy had to thump him on the back so he could catch his breath. They had food fights in the mess tent, played pool at Fidel's, danced at Matterhorn to Elwood's mad music; Bernard even came surfing with the hobbits and Orli once, though mostly he and Dom sat on the shore and gossiped about theatre in Manchester.
Billy tried not to mind how much of Dom's time Bernard took, but he'd grown accustomed to Dom's nonsense and missed it. Everyone said how well he and Dom worked together, what perfect comic timing they had, and yet there was Dom practicing that timing on Bernard. Each could send the other into gales of laughter; Billy watched, straining to hear them across the busy set or dance floor or bar. The first time he saw Bernard put his hand on the back of Dom's neck, he felt his mouth drop open. Dom stilled and looked up at Bernard from beneath his lashes, a faux-shy look Billy had had directed at him. He knew how powerful that glance could be, and from Bernard's face, he was feeling its full effect.
Are you jealous? Margaret wrote when he'd complained to her. Billy thought about that. Was he? Maybe he was. Or maybe Bernard was a better match. Billy didn't give a fuck about Man U, though he'd always listened when Dom went on and on about them. Bernard really did care, quite a lot; once the two of them got into a shouting match with Sean Bean when he'd flown back for his pickups. All three men had settled the argument with drinks and laughter and hearty slaps on the back.
Mad, Dom called Bernard, an admiring smile on his face. Billy would nod, not wanting to contradict Dom, but maybe Margaret was right. He admitted to himself that he missed Dom's attention and that admiring smile aimed at himself. He and Dom had been friends first, before Bernard ever showed up, he told himself, knowing he sounded like a jealous schoolgirl.
The time came for Dom and Billy to separate; Billy to stay in Wellington to work with Ian in Minas Tirith, now that it was no longer Helm's Deep, and Dom to go south with Bernard. Billy took Dom out to dinner that night, trying to laugh and be merry, but he was sick to his stomach and sick at heart and couldn't eat much. Dom was subdued as well; Billy hoped that meant he would miss Billy as much as he would miss Dom. But maybe they'd just eaten bad food.
They said goodbye that night, Billy hugging Dom tightly, risking a gentle kiss to Dom's cheek. Dom's eyes were shiny in the glare of the streetlamp and he clung to Billy a bit longer than their usual boisterous hugs. At last, without speaking, Dom turned and climbed into his little car. Billy watched him drive away, the lump in his throat too big to speak around.
He didn't hear from Dom right away, not till he was settled in a hotel in Twizel, wherever the fuck that was. Cold and dusty was all he told Billy; the rest of the call he spent praising Bernard's horsemanship and swordsmanship. He vowed to Billy to work harder at these things, to become the kind of actor that Bernard was. Billy's riding was for shite, and even though he'd trained with the sword, hobbits weren't supposed to be big strong Men and he'd mostly had fun with it. He agreed it was a good idea; we'll train together, he suggested, but Dom didn't seem to hear; he was late for meeting Bernard for dinner. Call me, Billy said, but Dom had already rung off.
They spoke once or twice a week, more briefly each time. Ian noticed something was wrong, but Billy was too embarrassed to admit anything other than he missed Dom. Ian gazed kindly at him and offered to meet him for drinks later, but Billy didn't think he needed more alcohol.
He thought he needed Dom
Working with Ian was brilliant, though, and Billy understood why Dom was so pleased to be with Bernard. Better actors pulled you up; that was commonplace in the theatre and certainly Billy was finding it true. He and Ian would discuss Pippin and Gandalf's relationship, finding new levels of meaning in their lines, and Philippa would rewrite entire scenes for them based on their greater understanding.
Billy spent his evenings by himself now instead of running through the streets of Wellington with Dom at his side. He breakfasted at Fidel's, but it wasn't the same; occasionally he danced at Tupelo, but with strangers; and always, always he thought of Dom. He thought of Dom even, he discovered, in his bath as he stroked himself in the warm soapy water. He'd suddenly realize he was picturing Dom, his grin, his thick lashes, his grey eyes, his soft brown hair. I just miss him, Billy told himself. I miss him.
They met again, after weeks and weeks apart, back in Wellington, Dom flinging his arms around Billy, kissing him, jumping on him, pulling Billy into a fireman's carry, shouting with pleasure at seeing him again.
Billy hugged him back, of course, and kissed him back, of course, and allowed himself to be hauled around like a sack of potatoes, laughing wildly, happy to be with his Dom again, at last. Welcome back, he thought, flinging his arms around Dom, panting with laughter. Then Dom seized his hand and tugged him away from the others, away from the lights and laughter, out of the main lounge, down the hall, around a bend. Billy followed willingly but puzzled, hanging back a bit. When the noise level dropped and the light was dim, Dom stopped abruptly and turned to face Billy, resting his hands on his shoulders.
They stared at each other, Billy's eyes opening wide in the dark as he tried to see the expression on Dom's face. Dom was breathing heavily, as if his allergies were bothering him; the brush of his breath across Billy's face cool in the hot gloom of the hotel hallway. Dom drew Billy closer, and Billy went willingly, until their faces touched, Dom's lips on Billy's ear.
There, in the dark, the faint noise of the others coiling around them, Dom told Billy everything. I missed you, he began, I missed you and I was lonely, and Bernard is wonderful, he's almost as much fun as you, taught me to ride, and, well, Bill, see, this one night, I missed ya so much, it hurt, and, well. Dom's breath in Billy's ear shot shivers through him and he trembled in Dom's arms.
Are ya okay, Dom, Billy whispered, frightened by what he was hearing. Did he hurt ya then?
No, naw, nothin' like that, it was fine, but Bill.
He fell silent again, and they stood together, arms around each other, shaking.
But Bill, he said again, so Billy put his mouth on Dom's, to shut him up, to keep him from saying one word more. He kissed Dom abruptly, angrily, and Dom kissed him back, so fiercely they grappled in the hallway, first Billy pushing Dom against the wall and then Dom bouncing back; they pinballed their way to the stairs and then up them.
Outside his door Billy paused, one hand on the back of Dom's neck, one hand on the handle. Bernard?
Dom shook his head.
Tell me the truth.
One time. I was so lonely, and he's brilliant and fun. They stared at each other, Billy beginning to sweat. But he's not you, Bill. Not you.
Billy counted his heartbeats: one, two, three, four. Then he pushed the handle down and backed into his room, drawing Dom with him. He stood for a moment, looking down the hall, watching, and then firmly shut the door.
Author: Mirabile Dictu
Fandom: LOTR RPS
Pairing: BH/DM, BB
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Billy misses Dom.
Disclaimer: This could not be less true.
A/N: Darling shirasade runs the slashy_letters community, and this go-round I gave it a try. My recipient was hipolyta_d, who asked for Bernard/Dom. Now, I had never tried to write Bernard in my life, and hadn't done any research on him. I ended up subverting her request, but she appears to have very kindly forgiven me. At any rate, here's what I sent her.
Beta as always by the wonderful empress_wu, who makes me happier than I can tell you. Everyone should have a friend as wise, as kind, and as generous as she. Encouragement from dear princessofg, who just better not desert LOTR for The Sentinel.
Fealty
Bernard was instantly popular on the set, rivaling Viggo in his outrageous behaviour. He'd dance, primp, mime, sing at the slightest provocation -- and he was a toucher. Billy watched in laughing amazement as he and Viggo bowed to each other, as kings should, and then embraced and kissed. Miranda loved him immediately, she whispered to Billy one night, staring at Bernard, who was dancing with Karl at the moment. Let's douse him in beer, Billy suggested; to his surprise, Miranda thought it a brilliant idea and dashed off, Billy's beer in hand, thumb over the opening, shaking the bottle and spraying it over everyone.
Billy sat back and watched.
Dom thought the world of Bernard as well. Dom was attracted to any glittering thing, Billy had discovered early on, and Bernard glittered in his own way. He made Dom laugh till snot came out his nose and Billy had to thump him on the back so he could catch his breath. They had food fights in the mess tent, played pool at Fidel's, danced at Matterhorn to Elwood's mad music; Bernard even came surfing with the hobbits and Orli once, though mostly he and Dom sat on the shore and gossiped about theatre in Manchester.
Billy tried not to mind how much of Dom's time Bernard took, but he'd grown accustomed to Dom's nonsense and missed it. Everyone said how well he and Dom worked together, what perfect comic timing they had, and yet there was Dom practicing that timing on Bernard. Each could send the other into gales of laughter; Billy watched, straining to hear them across the busy set or dance floor or bar. The first time he saw Bernard put his hand on the back of Dom's neck, he felt his mouth drop open. Dom stilled and looked up at Bernard from beneath his lashes, a faux-shy look Billy had had directed at him. He knew how powerful that glance could be, and from Bernard's face, he was feeling its full effect.
Are you jealous? Margaret wrote when he'd complained to her. Billy thought about that. Was he? Maybe he was. Or maybe Bernard was a better match. Billy didn't give a fuck about Man U, though he'd always listened when Dom went on and on about them. Bernard really did care, quite a lot; once the two of them got into a shouting match with Sean Bean when he'd flown back for his pickups. All three men had settled the argument with drinks and laughter and hearty slaps on the back.
Mad, Dom called Bernard, an admiring smile on his face. Billy would nod, not wanting to contradict Dom, but maybe Margaret was right. He admitted to himself that he missed Dom's attention and that admiring smile aimed at himself. He and Dom had been friends first, before Bernard ever showed up, he told himself, knowing he sounded like a jealous schoolgirl.
The time came for Dom and Billy to separate; Billy to stay in Wellington to work with Ian in Minas Tirith, now that it was no longer Helm's Deep, and Dom to go south with Bernard. Billy took Dom out to dinner that night, trying to laugh and be merry, but he was sick to his stomach and sick at heart and couldn't eat much. Dom was subdued as well; Billy hoped that meant he would miss Billy as much as he would miss Dom. But maybe they'd just eaten bad food.
They said goodbye that night, Billy hugging Dom tightly, risking a gentle kiss to Dom's cheek. Dom's eyes were shiny in the glare of the streetlamp and he clung to Billy a bit longer than their usual boisterous hugs. At last, without speaking, Dom turned and climbed into his little car. Billy watched him drive away, the lump in his throat too big to speak around.
He didn't hear from Dom right away, not till he was settled in a hotel in Twizel, wherever the fuck that was. Cold and dusty was all he told Billy; the rest of the call he spent praising Bernard's horsemanship and swordsmanship. He vowed to Billy to work harder at these things, to become the kind of actor that Bernard was. Billy's riding was for shite, and even though he'd trained with the sword, hobbits weren't supposed to be big strong Men and he'd mostly had fun with it. He agreed it was a good idea; we'll train together, he suggested, but Dom didn't seem to hear; he was late for meeting Bernard for dinner. Call me, Billy said, but Dom had already rung off.
They spoke once or twice a week, more briefly each time. Ian noticed something was wrong, but Billy was too embarrassed to admit anything other than he missed Dom. Ian gazed kindly at him and offered to meet him for drinks later, but Billy didn't think he needed more alcohol.
He thought he needed Dom
Working with Ian was brilliant, though, and Billy understood why Dom was so pleased to be with Bernard. Better actors pulled you up; that was commonplace in the theatre and certainly Billy was finding it true. He and Ian would discuss Pippin and Gandalf's relationship, finding new levels of meaning in their lines, and Philippa would rewrite entire scenes for them based on their greater understanding.
Billy spent his evenings by himself now instead of running through the streets of Wellington with Dom at his side. He breakfasted at Fidel's, but it wasn't the same; occasionally he danced at Tupelo, but with strangers; and always, always he thought of Dom. He thought of Dom even, he discovered, in his bath as he stroked himself in the warm soapy water. He'd suddenly realize he was picturing Dom, his grin, his thick lashes, his grey eyes, his soft brown hair. I just miss him, Billy told himself. I miss him.
They met again, after weeks and weeks apart, back in Wellington, Dom flinging his arms around Billy, kissing him, jumping on him, pulling Billy into a fireman's carry, shouting with pleasure at seeing him again.
Billy hugged him back, of course, and kissed him back, of course, and allowed himself to be hauled around like a sack of potatoes, laughing wildly, happy to be with his Dom again, at last. Welcome back, he thought, flinging his arms around Dom, panting with laughter. Then Dom seized his hand and tugged him away from the others, away from the lights and laughter, out of the main lounge, down the hall, around a bend. Billy followed willingly but puzzled, hanging back a bit. When the noise level dropped and the light was dim, Dom stopped abruptly and turned to face Billy, resting his hands on his shoulders.
They stared at each other, Billy's eyes opening wide in the dark as he tried to see the expression on Dom's face. Dom was breathing heavily, as if his allergies were bothering him; the brush of his breath across Billy's face cool in the hot gloom of the hotel hallway. Dom drew Billy closer, and Billy went willingly, until their faces touched, Dom's lips on Billy's ear.
There, in the dark, the faint noise of the others coiling around them, Dom told Billy everything. I missed you, he began, I missed you and I was lonely, and Bernard is wonderful, he's almost as much fun as you, taught me to ride, and, well, Bill, see, this one night, I missed ya so much, it hurt, and, well. Dom's breath in Billy's ear shot shivers through him and he trembled in Dom's arms.
Are ya okay, Dom, Billy whispered, frightened by what he was hearing. Did he hurt ya then?
No, naw, nothin' like that, it was fine, but Bill.
He fell silent again, and they stood together, arms around each other, shaking.
But Bill, he said again, so Billy put his mouth on Dom's, to shut him up, to keep him from saying one word more. He kissed Dom abruptly, angrily, and Dom kissed him back, so fiercely they grappled in the hallway, first Billy pushing Dom against the wall and then Dom bouncing back; they pinballed their way to the stairs and then up them.
Outside his door Billy paused, one hand on the back of Dom's neck, one hand on the handle. Bernard?
Dom shook his head.
Tell me the truth.
One time. I was so lonely, and he's brilliant and fun. They stared at each other, Billy beginning to sweat. But he's not you, Bill. Not you.
Billy counted his heartbeats: one, two, three, four. Then he pushed the handle down and backed into his room, drawing Dom with him. He stood for a moment, looking down the hall, watching, and then firmly shut the door.