(no subject)
Title: Nuts.
Pairing: DM/BB
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Billy and Dom have gone into a studio in LA to record the commentary for the Two Towers.
Disclaimer: No misrepresentation or disrespect is intended. This is written solely for entertainment.
Notes: During Billy's panel at ELF '06, he mentioned that Dom was constantly eating nuts while recording the commentary, and he proceeded to ask, "Who wants to hear Dom play with his nuts?" Hence, this fic was born.
Billy steps out on to the studio parking lot, clicking his car alarm instinctively and stashing his keys in the back pocket of his trousers. It's an extremely agreeable day as far as weather goes. Not too hot but not too cold, then again when is LA ever cold, and there is a slight breeze that ruffles the hairs on the back of his neck quite nicely. He wears a navy blue button down shirt and boot-cut jeans along with a pair of old, brown shoes that never fail to make Dom complain and/or propose a shopping trip (with no attempt at being discreet.)
Dom is wearing tightly fitted black cargo pants and a zippered pullover that can't really decide what colour it is. He is also wearing a pinstriped fedora hat, and Billy considers asking why such a fancy thing is necessary when they are going to be indoors and in the dark, but quickly decides against it. Dom would just give him an incredulous, reproaching look. He is the fashionista, after all.
The two make their way toward the front door, and out of the corner of his eye Billy can see Dom squinting against the rays of the sun, obviously having consumed one too many the previous night at yet another Two-Towers-came-out-a-month-ago-but-it-did-great-so-we'll-use-it-as-an-excuse-to-celebrate bash. Dom had not watched his wine intake at dinner with Barry and various others, and he certainly had paid no attention at Lijah's house later that night. Elijah could mix drinks like a motherfucker.
"Those shoes really are heinous," Dom says fretfully as he looks down at the ground, avoiding the sun's bright beams.
Billy's eyebrows lift, "Really now? And how're yeh likin' this sunshine, Dommie?" He bites back, stretching out his hand as they cross to the door.
"Shut your gob." Dom replies with the hint of a smile.
Billy pulls the door open, Dom sighing in relief at the less bright artificial light, and the two walk in, making their way to the end of the main hall where the technical assistant is waiting. He's in his mid-twenties maybe, and a great deal less jittery and excited than the guy who'd assisted them when they recorded commentary for Fellowship the previous year. He offers his hand and gives them each a quick, impersonal shake.
"Hi, I'm Mark. I'll get you guys all set up if you'd just follow me."
It's a relatively small building, and the three reach the cramped recording room with just a few corner turns. A black fabric couch, a television, a water fountain and Mark's station are the room's only occupants. The two don't sit down immediately, and Mark takes this as a sign that they were expecting more, "Did you guys need something to eat, or...?"
"Oh, no," Dom says casually, "Thanks, man. We're fine." He waves a tin of assorted Planter's nuts in the air, rattling them.
Billy sits down on the couch and Dom follows suit, "Yeh, s'all good."
Mark nods, walking across all ten, treacherous feet of the room to get to his station. He presses a few buttons, frowning, and then starts looking up and down, obviously searching for something. "Ah, shit," he mutters. "I'm missing a cable. I've gotta run real quick and get another."
He shuffles out, closing the door behind him.
"Great deal different than the bloke last year, huh?" Dom says, eyes still on the door.
"Yeh, really."
"That guy wanted me bad."
Billy screws up his face, his eyes two different sizes, "On wha' grounds?"
"My voice, of course." Dom says proudly, and Billy snorts. "His eyes went all wide-like whenever I said something. It's the accent. No American is safe from it."
"Well, this guy appears to be." Billy says, thoughtfully.
Dom shrugs and starts to open his Planter's tin, "I understand that you're jealous, Bill," he says sympathetically, "but honestly, it's not my fault that every one here thinks you're speaking another language."
Billy rubs at his nose and watches Dom struggle with the seal on the tin of nuts, finally resorting to biting it open with his teeth. He let's out a small triumphant, "Ha!" and proceeds to fish around for those that he likes. He pushes aside hazelnuts, brazil nuts and walnuts and pops cashews and peanuts into his mouth, chewing loudly.
Billy sighs, bringing one of his small hands to fiddle with his denims, "Dominic," he begins languidly, "Yeh best stop eatin' those when the mics go on. D'yeh really think every one wants to hear yeh eat and fumble around with yehr nuts?"
Dom's thin lips tighten into a smirk as he views Billy out of the corner of his eye, "Oh, you'd be surprised, Bill." He pops another bunch into his mouth, still grinning. Arse.
Billy rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, "Thas no' wha' Ah meant, yeh daft prick."
Dom lets out a full snort, which quickly transforms into a hacking cough from the bits of peanuts that have now lodged themselves in his throat. He clenches his right hand into a fist, the left clinging to the tin of nuts, and punches his chest forcefully. Billy sits calmly but allows himself to snicker, green eyes glinting evilly as he watches Dom's escapade.
Once the fit ends, Dom turns, eyes hard and mock-serious, "Well, I sure am glad you're my best mate, Bills. Didn't even bother to ask me if I was all right or if I needed the Heimlich or something."
"Yeh were coughin'," Billy retorts, "They say thas the best thing yeh can do." He frowns, "And anyway, Ah'm no' really yehr best mate. Ah can't be tied down like tha'."
"That so?"
Billy purses his lips and nods, stifling a grin, "Aye."
Dom tucks in his lips and 'hmms' in thought. He is about to open his mouth again to argue further but just as he does so, Mark returns, apparently successful in finding the piece of equipment he'd been missing. He muddles around in the back, sliding numerous dials about and plugging in more wires. He sets two mics on mini-stands in front of Dom and Billy and flicks each of them on.
He walks to the back and puts a pair of headphones over his ears, "Okay, can I have you guys do a test for me, please?"
Billy leans toward his mic, "Test."
He receives a thumbs up.
Dom leans forward, "Test. Testing."
Mark gives a thumbs up, but Dom either ignores it or doesn't see it.
"One. Two. Test. One. Two. Three. Testing your mum. One. T--"
He receives and sees a much more animated, puzzled thumbs up and stops. Billy studies him with very clear 'that was lame' eyes. Dom shrugs.
Mark sets his headphones down and picks up his coffee, crossing the room to turn on the television, then hands Billy the dvd remote, "If there's anything you guys need, just holler. I'll be in the next room over." He walks to the back once more to press the record button, and then exits just a tad more quickly than he entered.
Billy clicks the play button then turns to Dom, "Yeh're an idiot. A huge one. Yeh know tha', right?"
Dom nods, "Yeah...but I've gotten used to it, y'know? So I don't even bother with a filter any more."
Billy sees the FBI warning come up on the screen and lowers his voice to a whisper, "As if yeh had one to begin with."
Dom kicks him in the shin.
"Ow."
A snowy, white expanse of awe-inspiring mountains takes over the screen and the two settle back where they're sat, taking in its sheer brilliance and majesty for just a moment...before Dom starts rambling endlessly. He picks up the mic and props it in his lap, lazily sliding halfway down the couch, practically melding into it. He munches obnoxiously on the nuts, wiping salt on his pants and Billy shifts beside him. Dom is purposefully exercising a major pet peeve of his. Billy hates when people eat loudly during films.
The camera breaks through the walls of Moria to Gandalf and the Balrog, and Billy sincerely wonders if Dom's drunkenness has carried over into today when Dom starts talking about Ian McKellen's nasal hair.
Within the next ten minutes or so, he is sure there is still some alcohol in Dom's system when he claims that Gollum has the tendency to look like a bus. Billy's voice is sweet and playful in his response. This is purely for the listener's benefit. His facial expressions suggest otherwise. Dom is being unbearable. It really isn't even the fact that Dom won't stop talking. Billy's used to his ramblings. Hell, he's taking part in enough of them at the current moment. It's the fact that Dom is being completely unsubtle with his movements and words. They are purely sexual, as many things that Dom does and says are, and even when the conversation is on something perfectly innocent, such as the brilliance that is Andy Serkis, where he decides to breathe or the way he shifts his hips tells a different story to Billy. He is egging Billy on. Daring him. And they both know it.
Ach, wanker... Billy thinks, shifting away from Dom and scooting to the opposite end of the couch. Clearly not phased, Dom simply takes this as an invitation to stretch his limbs out completely and rests his head in the Scot's warm lap.
A lap that gets considerably warmer once Dom's head is across it...and Billy swears that's one of Dom's ridiculously large ears against the zipper of his trousers. He takes a deep breath and scritches his head but makes no attempt to shove Dom off of him. Or do other things. Yeh think yeh're unraveling me that easily today, Dominic? he muses. Oh, laddie, we've got a long way to go yet.
And Billy plays along, trading insults and giggling maniacally and cracking outrageous jokes. The tone of his voice still gives absolutely nothing away, but Dom knows that he is slowly being unraveled, can sense, unlike anyone else Billy has ever known, that Billy's body is just a pinch more tense than it usually is and Billy knows that Dom sees this, can tell by the faint glint in his eye when Dom looks up at him. He is irritated, yes, but he can't completely ward off a swell of affection when Dom starts to talk in rich detail about why he's moving in such a way on screen, how he wanted to give off the impression of being a sleeping baby when Treebeard placed him on the ground.
Billy knows that Dom's wanted it since last night. He'd been sitting on Lijah's leather couch, giving Dom the eyes, and Dom had been giving them right back with matching intensity, if not more. The difference between the two of them was that Billy was idly sipping his whiskey and Dom haphazardly downing his shots. Still, he would've given it to him good if Dom hadn't been dancing nude on Elijah's coffee table and then fallen asleep shortly afterward. Billy is a calculating and private man while Dom is an instinctive exhibitionist. They are polar opposites in a number of ways, but rather than hindering them, it allows for perfect balance. Billy wouldn't have Dom any other way, but their differences do make room for the occasional embarrassment when out in public. It's a common game they play: waiting for the other to crack.
Billy shoos Dom off his lap, as he's poking Billy in the ribs frequently now and trying to wipe salt on his jeans. Normalcy tries to inch its way in once again. The two casually speak of the environmental themes Tolkien explicitly conveys, along with days of sitting in Treebeard's mechanical hands. Talking about the disappearance of their genitalia never gets old, it seems. The topic of Sean Astin's excessive weight proves to be an appealing area of conversation as well.
Dom rests a hand on top of his microphone, "Mmm," he sighs, "it's cold in here." He snuggles closer to Billy, resting his head on the older man's shoulder...then makes a point to chew the apple he magically pulled out of one of the pockets of his cargo pants directly in Billy's ear. The room is not cold at all.
Still, Billy is positive that he is winning this game today. He's barely hard, just tingling slightly, while Dom is blatantly so. That is...until Dom decides to drop a cashew that, maybe not so coincidentally lands in Billy's lap. One bloody cashew, but oh no, Dom will not let it be forgotten. Without even looking he begins to fish for the lost nut which has now made its way into the crease between Billy's crotch and hipbone.
No, no. Fuck. Not here.
He likes to be behind closed doors where Dom can be his and only his. Where no one else is in earshot and he can make Dom whine and scream as loudly as he pleases. Where Dom can writhe and buck and squirm shamelessly without hesitation.
Not that Dom is ever shameful or hesitant.
But now Dom's hand has "accidentally" grasped Billy's cock through his jeans in the process of picking up the misplaced cashew and as soon as Billy feels those long, freckled fingers slide along him, something inside snaps. He sits upright and flicks off his microphone.
"Billy, what're you---" but those are the last words Dominic's mic hears before it too is turned off and Billy is knocking the tin of nuts out of Dom's hands in order to pin his wrists over his head, spilling them onto the floor, his hips holding Dom's in place, eyes hard and glaring.
"Yeh always have tae egg me on, don't yeh, Dommeh? Yeh can't even wait a couple hours for Christ's sake."
Dom juts out his jaw, eyes hard, indignant. Roughly, Billy pushes his pelvis snug against Dom's, watching blue-grey eyes go wider and darker. Dom inhales deeply through his nose, a hint of a wheeze in his breath.
"Have tae do it somewhere dangerous, don't yeh? Where anyone could turn a knob or look through a window and just fucking see, right?....yeh're such a slut." He moves down to exhale on Dom's abdomen where his pullover has ridden up and Dom struggles to keep his face tight, menacing, but then Billy starts to thumb the zipper on his trousers, and his body betrays him, shuddering forcefully. Billy can see the large, curved outline of Dom's cock straining against his clothing and he bites his tongue lightly to fend off a groan of approval, keeping his face straight.
"Billy," Dom breathes, swallowing, watching Billy's eyes burning holes through his lower body.
Billy ignores this plea and exhales, "Keep quiet." He pushes the pullover up further, running small, nimble fingers up and over Dom's ribcage, then dips his head down to settle in between the younger man's legs, inhaling deeply, breathing in Dom's musky, sinful, fucking gorgeous scent.
"B-Bill--"
Frustration coupled with lust runs down his spine like ice, twisting alive and deep in his stomach. Dominic is either not fucking capable of being quiet or he flat out doesn't want to be. The latter is more probable. Still, Billy absolutely loves that he can pick and tear apart Dom's layers. Simply cannot subdue the constant craving to rid Dom of the snark and the smirk and the smugness and leave him a babbling, begging, whimpering mess under him.
Billy slaps a hand over Dom's mouth, one finger stroking down his stubbly, hot cheek.
"Nnh." Dom finishes lamely. Throat tight and ears burning a brilliant bright red.
Yeah, he definitely wouldn't have Dom any other way.
Billy hovers his lips a breath away from Dom's and when the Brit's tongue darts out and he leans forward, Billy pulls back, serious, voice an octave lower, his accent thick, "What is it yeh want from me, Dominic?"
"Anything, Bill," Dom whispers desperately, "Just please...touch me."
Billy watches him stone-faced and teasing. His eyes are heavy lidded, but they're no less emerald and certainly no less piercing. He drags the zipper of Dom's pullover down, then reaches in to tweak one of Dom's rosy-brown nipples, kneading the bud between his pointer finger and thumb, and Dom mews, his hips lifting upward of their own accord.
Billy smirks, "Yeh have tae be quiet, Dom. Somehow Ah don't think Mark would fancy seein' this."
Dom's breath catches, "Sound guy from last year would, though." He shoots back.
Billy fends off a smile and pulls the zipper on Dom's trousers down lazily, listening to the stifled hiss it elicits, then feels the heat that it's been concealing hit him head on as Dom's cock starts to spring free from the denim. He works a hand into Dom's trousers, the teeth of the zipper chafing him slightly, and cups Dom's balls in his hand, rolling them slowly. Dom bites down on his lower lip, making it flash white then fade to a dark pink when he lets it go. Billy rubs at the patch just underneath, and his eyes lock with blue-grey as Dom's throat tightens up, silencing the noises that rise up. Billy commends himself for not shivering at the sight of Dom's eyes rolling back in his head when Billy finally takes Dom's cock from the confines of his jeans.
He studies it momentarily, watching it twitch and pulse before dipping his head directly above the aching flesh, and just...breathing. Inhale. Exhale. He blows on the tip and hears Dom utter vulgarities under his breath. Then Billy rolls and flicks his tongue around as if he were speaking, spelling out secret messages along Dom's skin. Dom's hands fumble for something to hold onto and curl around the couch cushions, and then Billy swallows Dom suddenly, testing him.
"Ah---aaah. Fuck." Dom grates out with relatively boisterous volume.
Hmm, not goin' tae work, Dommie.
Billy pulls his round, bowtie lips off with a small pop and slides up Dom's body to nibble at the rippling pulse point on Dom's neck, reveling in the sweet taste of soap, smoke, Dom, and...peanuts? He chuckles low in his throat, the vibrations causing Dom's hips to twist beautifully, searching for any sort of pressure he can give himself...then he laps at the offended area, almost as an apology for the pointy teeth marks now indented in Dom's skin, but mostly just to hear Dom's needy exhale of breath. He lifts his head and shoves his tongue into Dom's open mouth, giving him no choice but to be quiet, swallowing his moans as he curls one perfect, little hand around Dom's leaking cock.
Dominic's hips stutter-jerk forward and Billy chuckles into the kiss, sucking Dom's lips with reckless abandon while the younger man twitches and thrusts beneath him. Dom is burning hot and fucking alive with want and impatience. He desperately tries to break away from Billy's deft tongue, "Billmmph. Billy---Jesus Christ, your cock. Take your fucking trousers off."
Billy licks along the inside of Dom's upper lip and Dom's breath whooshes out, "Is tha' wha' yeh want, Dominic?" He purrs.
Dom brings his hands down to clutch Billy's arse and pulls himself forcefully against him, a sense of pride swelling when Billy lets out a deep groan from being caught off guard, "Of course that's what I fucking want."
Billy squeezes the head of Dom's cock slowly and carefully, coaxing more pre-cum onto his fingers. Dom is pulsating in his hand and his eyes have closed and his eyebrows joined together. Dom's hands are roaming over his own upper torso, rubbing at his stomach and nipples, and then rising up to slide through his hair, tugging slightly on the roots.
Billy gives Dom's cock a firm stroke and looks up at him, eyes burning, "Dominic. If yeh want my cock, yeh have tae stop touching yehrself. Thas my job."
Dom's hands curl into tight, shaking fists and he brings them down by his sides.
"Good." Billy takes his hand off Dom's cock, ignoring the whimper of protest, and quickly undoes his jeans and pulls off his boxers, letting them fall around his knees. He offers three fingers to Dom.
"Suck," he says. And Dom's tongue is already darting out before he finishes, lapping at Billy's small digits and sucking them into his mouth, running the tip of his tongue along the calloused pads, whimpering as Billy jerks him firmly, making his cock even more slick with sweat and pre-cum. Billy is not completely sure why making Dom suck on his fingers is such a fucking aphrodisiac for him. It's most likely that obscenely long tongue that makes him think of Dom's mouth on and around other places of his body and fuck does he want to see Dom on his knees right now but no, there's time later on. This is going to be fumbled and sweaty and rushed and leave them both wanting more.
Dom pulls off and Billy slides his cock flush against Dom's, closes his eyes at the feeling, and listens to Dom stutter out a moan at the combined heat. He wraps his hand around both their arousals and starts to pump, thrusting his hips, encouraging Dom to do the same. Dom grinds back against him, his fists still balled, panting harshly and whimpering repeatedly. Billy brings his lips up to that crooked mouth, covering it with his own, silencing Dom's careless cries and letting them mix and get lost with his own fierce breathing.
He whispers, "When yeh're goin' tae--" his hips jerk faster, "Ahh, shite...don'---try no' tae c-come on the cushions." He buries his face in the 'v' of Dom's collarbone, panting and gnawing and Dom laughs, rough and ridiculously low in his throat, before Billy speeds up the pace and has to cover Dom's mouth with his again to drown out the intensified exclamations.
Billy can sense how close Dom is. Dom is shuddering and sweating profusely under him, biting at Billy's tongue and lips clumsily, and Billy can feel his own toes curling and the damp sweat on the back of his neck. Gradually, each thrust gets more intense, more pleasurable, more desperate, until finally Billy feels the sporadic tingling all over his body and he shoves the shoulder of Dom's dark pullover aside, revealing flesh, flushed pink, and bites down on the little bump of bone in the center, stifling a long groan, shuddering with the effort as he comes in quick, staccato spurts and fuck it's white hot and deep and dirty and wonderful. Dom feels the pulse of Billy's cock, the heated liquid spilling onto his stomach, the sharp pain in his shoulder, and the combination of all these things along with the smooth slide of his cock in Billy's palm makes wild heat pool in his belly, twisting and writhing. His back arches and he cries out once, his eyes wide and electric blue, and then slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle: One. Two. Three more cries as his orgasm tears him upside down and inside out. And then he slumps down, eyes closed, breathing through his nose.
A few moments later, after breaths have slowed and heart rates have decreased, Billy tastes something vaguely familiar on his tongue. It's warm and metallic, and as the realisation washes over him he looks up to see two little drops of blood hovering on Dom's shoulder. "Shite, Dom," he says, "Ah didnae hurt yeh, did Ah?"
Dom just lets out a strangled, "Nngh." and lies boneless on the couch for a bit longer.
"Good God," he croaks. "I was going to have to resort to desperate measures if you'd waited any longer."
"Feck yeh, Dominic. Is no' my fault yeh never know when tae stop."
Dom sits up, then shifts around on the couch with a concentrated look on his face and pulls something from under him. He holds it out, grinning, "Cashew?"
---
Feedback is greatly appreciated.
Pairing: DM/BB
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Billy and Dom have gone into a studio in LA to record the commentary for the Two Towers.
Disclaimer: No misrepresentation or disrespect is intended. This is written solely for entertainment.
Notes: During Billy's panel at ELF '06, he mentioned that Dom was constantly eating nuts while recording the commentary, and he proceeded to ask, "Who wants to hear Dom play with his nuts?" Hence, this fic was born.
Billy steps out on to the studio parking lot, clicking his car alarm instinctively and stashing his keys in the back pocket of his trousers. It's an extremely agreeable day as far as weather goes. Not too hot but not too cold, then again when is LA ever cold, and there is a slight breeze that ruffles the hairs on the back of his neck quite nicely. He wears a navy blue button down shirt and boot-cut jeans along with a pair of old, brown shoes that never fail to make Dom complain and/or propose a shopping trip (with no attempt at being discreet.)
Dom is wearing tightly fitted black cargo pants and a zippered pullover that can't really decide what colour it is. He is also wearing a pinstriped fedora hat, and Billy considers asking why such a fancy thing is necessary when they are going to be indoors and in the dark, but quickly decides against it. Dom would just give him an incredulous, reproaching look. He is the fashionista, after all.
The two make their way toward the front door, and out of the corner of his eye Billy can see Dom squinting against the rays of the sun, obviously having consumed one too many the previous night at yet another Two-Towers-came-out-a-month-ago-but-it-did-great-so-we'll-use-it-as-an-excuse-to-celebrate bash. Dom had not watched his wine intake at dinner with Barry and various others, and he certainly had paid no attention at Lijah's house later that night. Elijah could mix drinks like a motherfucker.
"Those shoes really are heinous," Dom says fretfully as he looks down at the ground, avoiding the sun's bright beams.
Billy's eyebrows lift, "Really now? And how're yeh likin' this sunshine, Dommie?" He bites back, stretching out his hand as they cross to the door.
"Shut your gob." Dom replies with the hint of a smile.
Billy pulls the door open, Dom sighing in relief at the less bright artificial light, and the two walk in, making their way to the end of the main hall where the technical assistant is waiting. He's in his mid-twenties maybe, and a great deal less jittery and excited than the guy who'd assisted them when they recorded commentary for Fellowship the previous year. He offers his hand and gives them each a quick, impersonal shake.
"Hi, I'm Mark. I'll get you guys all set up if you'd just follow me."
It's a relatively small building, and the three reach the cramped recording room with just a few corner turns. A black fabric couch, a television, a water fountain and Mark's station are the room's only occupants. The two don't sit down immediately, and Mark takes this as a sign that they were expecting more, "Did you guys need something to eat, or...?"
"Oh, no," Dom says casually, "Thanks, man. We're fine." He waves a tin of assorted Planter's nuts in the air, rattling them.
Billy sits down on the couch and Dom follows suit, "Yeh, s'all good."
Mark nods, walking across all ten, treacherous feet of the room to get to his station. He presses a few buttons, frowning, and then starts looking up and down, obviously searching for something. "Ah, shit," he mutters. "I'm missing a cable. I've gotta run real quick and get another."
He shuffles out, closing the door behind him.
"Great deal different than the bloke last year, huh?" Dom says, eyes still on the door.
"Yeh, really."
"That guy wanted me bad."
Billy screws up his face, his eyes two different sizes, "On wha' grounds?"
"My voice, of course." Dom says proudly, and Billy snorts. "His eyes went all wide-like whenever I said something. It's the accent. No American is safe from it."
"Well, this guy appears to be." Billy says, thoughtfully.
Dom shrugs and starts to open his Planter's tin, "I understand that you're jealous, Bill," he says sympathetically, "but honestly, it's not my fault that every one here thinks you're speaking another language."
Billy rubs at his nose and watches Dom struggle with the seal on the tin of nuts, finally resorting to biting it open with his teeth. He let's out a small triumphant, "Ha!" and proceeds to fish around for those that he likes. He pushes aside hazelnuts, brazil nuts and walnuts and pops cashews and peanuts into his mouth, chewing loudly.
Billy sighs, bringing one of his small hands to fiddle with his denims, "Dominic," he begins languidly, "Yeh best stop eatin' those when the mics go on. D'yeh really think every one wants to hear yeh eat and fumble around with yehr nuts?"
Dom's thin lips tighten into a smirk as he views Billy out of the corner of his eye, "Oh, you'd be surprised, Bill." He pops another bunch into his mouth, still grinning. Arse.
Billy rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, "Thas no' wha' Ah meant, yeh daft prick."
Dom lets out a full snort, which quickly transforms into a hacking cough from the bits of peanuts that have now lodged themselves in his throat. He clenches his right hand into a fist, the left clinging to the tin of nuts, and punches his chest forcefully. Billy sits calmly but allows himself to snicker, green eyes glinting evilly as he watches Dom's escapade.
Once the fit ends, Dom turns, eyes hard and mock-serious, "Well, I sure am glad you're my best mate, Bills. Didn't even bother to ask me if I was all right or if I needed the Heimlich or something."
"Yeh were coughin'," Billy retorts, "They say thas the best thing yeh can do." He frowns, "And anyway, Ah'm no' really yehr best mate. Ah can't be tied down like tha'."
"That so?"
Billy purses his lips and nods, stifling a grin, "Aye."
Dom tucks in his lips and 'hmms' in thought. He is about to open his mouth again to argue further but just as he does so, Mark returns, apparently successful in finding the piece of equipment he'd been missing. He muddles around in the back, sliding numerous dials about and plugging in more wires. He sets two mics on mini-stands in front of Dom and Billy and flicks each of them on.
He walks to the back and puts a pair of headphones over his ears, "Okay, can I have you guys do a test for me, please?"
Billy leans toward his mic, "Test."
He receives a thumbs up.
Dom leans forward, "Test. Testing."
Mark gives a thumbs up, but Dom either ignores it or doesn't see it.
"One. Two. Test. One. Two. Three. Testing your mum. One. T--"
He receives and sees a much more animated, puzzled thumbs up and stops. Billy studies him with very clear 'that was lame' eyes. Dom shrugs.
Mark sets his headphones down and picks up his coffee, crossing the room to turn on the television, then hands Billy the dvd remote, "If there's anything you guys need, just holler. I'll be in the next room over." He walks to the back once more to press the record button, and then exits just a tad more quickly than he entered.
Billy clicks the play button then turns to Dom, "Yeh're an idiot. A huge one. Yeh know tha', right?"
Dom nods, "Yeah...but I've gotten used to it, y'know? So I don't even bother with a filter any more."
Billy sees the FBI warning come up on the screen and lowers his voice to a whisper, "As if yeh had one to begin with."
Dom kicks him in the shin.
"Ow."
A snowy, white expanse of awe-inspiring mountains takes over the screen and the two settle back where they're sat, taking in its sheer brilliance and majesty for just a moment...before Dom starts rambling endlessly. He picks up the mic and props it in his lap, lazily sliding halfway down the couch, practically melding into it. He munches obnoxiously on the nuts, wiping salt on his pants and Billy shifts beside him. Dom is purposefully exercising a major pet peeve of his. Billy hates when people eat loudly during films.
The camera breaks through the walls of Moria to Gandalf and the Balrog, and Billy sincerely wonders if Dom's drunkenness has carried over into today when Dom starts talking about Ian McKellen's nasal hair.
Within the next ten minutes or so, he is sure there is still some alcohol in Dom's system when he claims that Gollum has the tendency to look like a bus. Billy's voice is sweet and playful in his response. This is purely for the listener's benefit. His facial expressions suggest otherwise. Dom is being unbearable. It really isn't even the fact that Dom won't stop talking. Billy's used to his ramblings. Hell, he's taking part in enough of them at the current moment. It's the fact that Dom is being completely unsubtle with his movements and words. They are purely sexual, as many things that Dom does and says are, and even when the conversation is on something perfectly innocent, such as the brilliance that is Andy Serkis, where he decides to breathe or the way he shifts his hips tells a different story to Billy. He is egging Billy on. Daring him. And they both know it.
Ach, wanker... Billy thinks, shifting away from Dom and scooting to the opposite end of the couch. Clearly not phased, Dom simply takes this as an invitation to stretch his limbs out completely and rests his head in the Scot's warm lap.
A lap that gets considerably warmer once Dom's head is across it...and Billy swears that's one of Dom's ridiculously large ears against the zipper of his trousers. He takes a deep breath and scritches his head but makes no attempt to shove Dom off of him. Or do other things. Yeh think yeh're unraveling me that easily today, Dominic? he muses. Oh, laddie, we've got a long way to go yet.
And Billy plays along, trading insults and giggling maniacally and cracking outrageous jokes. The tone of his voice still gives absolutely nothing away, but Dom knows that he is slowly being unraveled, can sense, unlike anyone else Billy has ever known, that Billy's body is just a pinch more tense than it usually is and Billy knows that Dom sees this, can tell by the faint glint in his eye when Dom looks up at him. He is irritated, yes, but he can't completely ward off a swell of affection when Dom starts to talk in rich detail about why he's moving in such a way on screen, how he wanted to give off the impression of being a sleeping baby when Treebeard placed him on the ground.
Billy knows that Dom's wanted it since last night. He'd been sitting on Lijah's leather couch, giving Dom the eyes, and Dom had been giving them right back with matching intensity, if not more. The difference between the two of them was that Billy was idly sipping his whiskey and Dom haphazardly downing his shots. Still, he would've given it to him good if Dom hadn't been dancing nude on Elijah's coffee table and then fallen asleep shortly afterward. Billy is a calculating and private man while Dom is an instinctive exhibitionist. They are polar opposites in a number of ways, but rather than hindering them, it allows for perfect balance. Billy wouldn't have Dom any other way, but their differences do make room for the occasional embarrassment when out in public. It's a common game they play: waiting for the other to crack.
Billy shoos Dom off his lap, as he's poking Billy in the ribs frequently now and trying to wipe salt on his jeans. Normalcy tries to inch its way in once again. The two casually speak of the environmental themes Tolkien explicitly conveys, along with days of sitting in Treebeard's mechanical hands. Talking about the disappearance of their genitalia never gets old, it seems. The topic of Sean Astin's excessive weight proves to be an appealing area of conversation as well.
Dom rests a hand on top of his microphone, "Mmm," he sighs, "it's cold in here." He snuggles closer to Billy, resting his head on the older man's shoulder...then makes a point to chew the apple he magically pulled out of one of the pockets of his cargo pants directly in Billy's ear. The room is not cold at all.
Still, Billy is positive that he is winning this game today. He's barely hard, just tingling slightly, while Dom is blatantly so. That is...until Dom decides to drop a cashew that, maybe not so coincidentally lands in Billy's lap. One bloody cashew, but oh no, Dom will not let it be forgotten. Without even looking he begins to fish for the lost nut which has now made its way into the crease between Billy's crotch and hipbone.
No, no. Fuck. Not here.
He likes to be behind closed doors where Dom can be his and only his. Where no one else is in earshot and he can make Dom whine and scream as loudly as he pleases. Where Dom can writhe and buck and squirm shamelessly without hesitation.
Not that Dom is ever shameful or hesitant.
But now Dom's hand has "accidentally" grasped Billy's cock through his jeans in the process of picking up the misplaced cashew and as soon as Billy feels those long, freckled fingers slide along him, something inside snaps. He sits upright and flicks off his microphone.
"Billy, what're you---" but those are the last words Dominic's mic hears before it too is turned off and Billy is knocking the tin of nuts out of Dom's hands in order to pin his wrists over his head, spilling them onto the floor, his hips holding Dom's in place, eyes hard and glaring.
"Yeh always have tae egg me on, don't yeh, Dommeh? Yeh can't even wait a couple hours for Christ's sake."
Dom juts out his jaw, eyes hard, indignant. Roughly, Billy pushes his pelvis snug against Dom's, watching blue-grey eyes go wider and darker. Dom inhales deeply through his nose, a hint of a wheeze in his breath.
"Have tae do it somewhere dangerous, don't yeh? Where anyone could turn a knob or look through a window and just fucking see, right?....yeh're such a slut." He moves down to exhale on Dom's abdomen where his pullover has ridden up and Dom struggles to keep his face tight, menacing, but then Billy starts to thumb the zipper on his trousers, and his body betrays him, shuddering forcefully. Billy can see the large, curved outline of Dom's cock straining against his clothing and he bites his tongue lightly to fend off a groan of approval, keeping his face straight.
"Billy," Dom breathes, swallowing, watching Billy's eyes burning holes through his lower body.
Billy ignores this plea and exhales, "Keep quiet." He pushes the pullover up further, running small, nimble fingers up and over Dom's ribcage, then dips his head down to settle in between the younger man's legs, inhaling deeply, breathing in Dom's musky, sinful, fucking gorgeous scent.
"B-Bill--"
Frustration coupled with lust runs down his spine like ice, twisting alive and deep in his stomach. Dominic is either not fucking capable of being quiet or he flat out doesn't want to be. The latter is more probable. Still, Billy absolutely loves that he can pick and tear apart Dom's layers. Simply cannot subdue the constant craving to rid Dom of the snark and the smirk and the smugness and leave him a babbling, begging, whimpering mess under him.
Billy slaps a hand over Dom's mouth, one finger stroking down his stubbly, hot cheek.
"Nnh." Dom finishes lamely. Throat tight and ears burning a brilliant bright red.
Yeah, he definitely wouldn't have Dom any other way.
Billy hovers his lips a breath away from Dom's and when the Brit's tongue darts out and he leans forward, Billy pulls back, serious, voice an octave lower, his accent thick, "What is it yeh want from me, Dominic?"
"Anything, Bill," Dom whispers desperately, "Just please...touch me."
Billy watches him stone-faced and teasing. His eyes are heavy lidded, but they're no less emerald and certainly no less piercing. He drags the zipper of Dom's pullover down, then reaches in to tweak one of Dom's rosy-brown nipples, kneading the bud between his pointer finger and thumb, and Dom mews, his hips lifting upward of their own accord.
Billy smirks, "Yeh have tae be quiet, Dom. Somehow Ah don't think Mark would fancy seein' this."
Dom's breath catches, "Sound guy from last year would, though." He shoots back.
Billy fends off a smile and pulls the zipper on Dom's trousers down lazily, listening to the stifled hiss it elicits, then feels the heat that it's been concealing hit him head on as Dom's cock starts to spring free from the denim. He works a hand into Dom's trousers, the teeth of the zipper chafing him slightly, and cups Dom's balls in his hand, rolling them slowly. Dom bites down on his lower lip, making it flash white then fade to a dark pink when he lets it go. Billy rubs at the patch just underneath, and his eyes lock with blue-grey as Dom's throat tightens up, silencing the noises that rise up. Billy commends himself for not shivering at the sight of Dom's eyes rolling back in his head when Billy finally takes Dom's cock from the confines of his jeans.
He studies it momentarily, watching it twitch and pulse before dipping his head directly above the aching flesh, and just...breathing. Inhale. Exhale. He blows on the tip and hears Dom utter vulgarities under his breath. Then Billy rolls and flicks his tongue around as if he were speaking, spelling out secret messages along Dom's skin. Dom's hands fumble for something to hold onto and curl around the couch cushions, and then Billy swallows Dom suddenly, testing him.
"Ah---aaah. Fuck." Dom grates out with relatively boisterous volume.
Hmm, not goin' tae work, Dommie.
Billy pulls his round, bowtie lips off with a small pop and slides up Dom's body to nibble at the rippling pulse point on Dom's neck, reveling in the sweet taste of soap, smoke, Dom, and...peanuts? He chuckles low in his throat, the vibrations causing Dom's hips to twist beautifully, searching for any sort of pressure he can give himself...then he laps at the offended area, almost as an apology for the pointy teeth marks now indented in Dom's skin, but mostly just to hear Dom's needy exhale of breath. He lifts his head and shoves his tongue into Dom's open mouth, giving him no choice but to be quiet, swallowing his moans as he curls one perfect, little hand around Dom's leaking cock.
Dominic's hips stutter-jerk forward and Billy chuckles into the kiss, sucking Dom's lips with reckless abandon while the younger man twitches and thrusts beneath him. Dom is burning hot and fucking alive with want and impatience. He desperately tries to break away from Billy's deft tongue, "Billmmph. Billy---Jesus Christ, your cock. Take your fucking trousers off."
Billy licks along the inside of Dom's upper lip and Dom's breath whooshes out, "Is tha' wha' yeh want, Dominic?" He purrs.
Dom brings his hands down to clutch Billy's arse and pulls himself forcefully against him, a sense of pride swelling when Billy lets out a deep groan from being caught off guard, "Of course that's what I fucking want."
Billy squeezes the head of Dom's cock slowly and carefully, coaxing more pre-cum onto his fingers. Dom is pulsating in his hand and his eyes have closed and his eyebrows joined together. Dom's hands are roaming over his own upper torso, rubbing at his stomach and nipples, and then rising up to slide through his hair, tugging slightly on the roots.
Billy gives Dom's cock a firm stroke and looks up at him, eyes burning, "Dominic. If yeh want my cock, yeh have tae stop touching yehrself. Thas my job."
Dom's hands curl into tight, shaking fists and he brings them down by his sides.
"Good." Billy takes his hand off Dom's cock, ignoring the whimper of protest, and quickly undoes his jeans and pulls off his boxers, letting them fall around his knees. He offers three fingers to Dom.
"Suck," he says. And Dom's tongue is already darting out before he finishes, lapping at Billy's small digits and sucking them into his mouth, running the tip of his tongue along the calloused pads, whimpering as Billy jerks him firmly, making his cock even more slick with sweat and pre-cum. Billy is not completely sure why making Dom suck on his fingers is such a fucking aphrodisiac for him. It's most likely that obscenely long tongue that makes him think of Dom's mouth on and around other places of his body and fuck does he want to see Dom on his knees right now but no, there's time later on. This is going to be fumbled and sweaty and rushed and leave them both wanting more.
Dom pulls off and Billy slides his cock flush against Dom's, closes his eyes at the feeling, and listens to Dom stutter out a moan at the combined heat. He wraps his hand around both their arousals and starts to pump, thrusting his hips, encouraging Dom to do the same. Dom grinds back against him, his fists still balled, panting harshly and whimpering repeatedly. Billy brings his lips up to that crooked mouth, covering it with his own, silencing Dom's careless cries and letting them mix and get lost with his own fierce breathing.
He whispers, "When yeh're goin' tae--" his hips jerk faster, "Ahh, shite...don'---try no' tae c-come on the cushions." He buries his face in the 'v' of Dom's collarbone, panting and gnawing and Dom laughs, rough and ridiculously low in his throat, before Billy speeds up the pace and has to cover Dom's mouth with his again to drown out the intensified exclamations.
Billy can sense how close Dom is. Dom is shuddering and sweating profusely under him, biting at Billy's tongue and lips clumsily, and Billy can feel his own toes curling and the damp sweat on the back of his neck. Gradually, each thrust gets more intense, more pleasurable, more desperate, until finally Billy feels the sporadic tingling all over his body and he shoves the shoulder of Dom's dark pullover aside, revealing flesh, flushed pink, and bites down on the little bump of bone in the center, stifling a long groan, shuddering with the effort as he comes in quick, staccato spurts and fuck it's white hot and deep and dirty and wonderful. Dom feels the pulse of Billy's cock, the heated liquid spilling onto his stomach, the sharp pain in his shoulder, and the combination of all these things along with the smooth slide of his cock in Billy's palm makes wild heat pool in his belly, twisting and writhing. His back arches and he cries out once, his eyes wide and electric blue, and then slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle: One. Two. Three more cries as his orgasm tears him upside down and inside out. And then he slumps down, eyes closed, breathing through his nose.
A few moments later, after breaths have slowed and heart rates have decreased, Billy tastes something vaguely familiar on his tongue. It's warm and metallic, and as the realisation washes over him he looks up to see two little drops of blood hovering on Dom's shoulder. "Shite, Dom," he says, "Ah didnae hurt yeh, did Ah?"
Dom just lets out a strangled, "Nngh." and lies boneless on the couch for a bit longer.
"Good God," he croaks. "I was going to have to resort to desperate measures if you'd waited any longer."
"Feck yeh, Dominic. Is no' my fault yeh never know when tae stop."
Dom sits up, then shifts around on the couch with a concentrated look on his face and pulls something from under him. He holds it out, grinning, "Cashew?"
---
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