Build on this Fic: The Next Fork in the Road
Title: The Next Fork in the Road
Author: Blackbird Song + YOU
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: Undetermined
Warning: Also undetermined
Author's Notes: I've never done this before, but there's a first time for everything. I've started a story, you get to play with it. You can make it a round robin or write your own story using what I've done so far as a beginning, middle or end. You can write what you want in the comments, or link to a completion elsewhere. Anything goes, as long as the bit I've written remains intact somewhere, somehow. I'll just be hiding in another town for a few hours. ;-)
When he sees the way Billy grips his luggage, Dom knows two things: the flight was turbulent and Billy hasn't meditated in two days.
So it's a surprise when Billy greets him with a customary hug. It's an even bigger one when he keeps hanging on when Dom tries to let go.
"Rough flight?" Dom asks against Billy's ear.
"No, not really. Just long." Billy tightens his grip and then lets go. "Let's go home." He strides briskly off in the wrong direction.
Dom sighs and then shouts, "Oi!"
Billy keeps walking, most likely because the din of brakes, buses and horns just concatenated into a deafening wall.
Dom sticks his fingers into his lips and whistles. "BILLY!"
Billy turns. "WHAT?!"
"Car's that way!" Dom points to his right.
"Why didn't you say so?" Billy stalks off.
Dom only notices the bag Billy left on the ground because his foot hits it as he turns. He picks it up and runs to catch up with Billy. "This is going to be a long visit," he mutters to himself. Then, "Yesssss!"
The ride home has Dom a bit worried. Usually, they chitter-chat in a tumble of catching up, even if Billy is tired. This time, Billy's walled himself off so much that Dom doesn't want to break in. All in all, Dom's glad there isn't a traffic jam.
The first thing Dom does when they get home is to fluff up the meditation cushion. The next thing is to take Billy's bags - when Billy starts to protest, he just points firmly to the cushion - and secure them in the guest room. After that, he takes inventory for the third time that day and finds that yes, he still has fresh oats, coffee and-
"Fuck," he mutters. He scribbles a note on a post-it and goes to the shop for milk.
He stays away as long as he can, arriving home an hour and a half after he left.
Billy's in the kitchen, poking through the fridge.
Dom reaches past him to put the milk and eggs away, noticing that even though Billy is calmer, he's still radiating tension. "Want to talk about it?"
"Maybe in a bit," Billy says. "Here's your present, by the way." He hands Dom a small, smooth pebble. It's salmon pink with stripes of quartz.
"I thought it was illegal to pick these things up," says Dom, gazing at it.
"It is." Billy is practically encircling Dom without even touching him. "And I don't care. I was on the beach, thinking of you and this wave came along and pushed this pebble onto my foot."
"Well, you can't refuse a gift like that, can you?"
"I'm serious, Dom."
Dom looks at Billy and knows that it's not a joke. Without a word, he takes Billy in his arms and is grateful that Billy returns the embrace instead of shoving him away. "Thanks," he murmurs.
"It's good to see you," Billy whispers against Dom's ear.
"You, too." They hold for a few more seconds before Billy pulls away. "Let's go for a swim!" He claps Dom on the arms and disappears to the guest room - his room, as they usually call it.
*****
Over supper at Dom's favourite new restaurant, their conversation feels odd. Billy's chattering about this and that, but there's a shadow in his eyes that Dom thinks only he and Ali could see. Dom knows to give Billy space when he's like this, but he hopes that the clouds will lift sooner, rather than later. Even though they have three months together, a lot of it's tied up in meetings and filmings for both of them, and there is that bloody script they keep putting off.
Neither of them is drinking anything other than tap water. It's a shame, because there are good pubs around the area, complete with friendly expats who'll greet them as they would anyone else and then leave them alone. But Dom has to be careful about his habit and Billy is watching his weight, and they're both sufficiently on edge that imbibing is not the best idea. Too bad, because Dom loves the smell of Billy over a pint.
They walk home the long way by mutual, unspoken agreement. They both need the space and air by the beach. And truth be told, Billy's always easier to be around when he's walked off whatever is bothering him.
Billy's face is beautiful in the setting sun. Dom remembers with a pang how gorgeous his ginger hair had been when it caught the light and how it had set his, Dom's, lust ablaze. But now, in middle age, with salt and pepper stubble kept barely at bay, Billy's chiselled features exude sex. Dom has been mostly straight all his life, with a couple of exceptions. Well, mostly one exception, named Billy. So it disturbs him more than he'll admit that Billy's increased maleness is far more of a turn-on than he bargained for. It also has disturbed him that Billy has come damned close to snogging him in public on more than one occasion, but that's because he's not sure if he could bear to write it off as a joke.
That's when Billy turns and says, "Ali knows about us."
Dom only just manages to keep walking. "I'm not sure what you mean...." I'm not sure I can keep breathing.
"She knows how you feel about me...."
"Well," Dom snorts, "everyone knows how I feel about you. Or claims to."
"And she knows how I feel about you."
Dom covers his shortness of breath with a laugh. "Billy, there are at least a billion people on the planet heard you tell me you loved me."
Billy nods, but the hurt flitting across his eyes hits Dom like a broken brick. "Usually followed by, 'but not like that'. Well, she now knows that I love you ... like that." He walks on, leaving Dom stuck to the pavement as though it had melted and sucked him in.
Author: Blackbird Song + YOU
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: Undetermined
Warning: Also undetermined
Author's Notes: I've never done this before, but there's a first time for everything. I've started a story, you get to play with it. You can make it a round robin or write your own story using what I've done so far as a beginning, middle or end. You can write what you want in the comments, or link to a completion elsewhere. Anything goes, as long as the bit I've written remains intact somewhere, somehow. I'll just be hiding in another town for a few hours. ;-)
When he sees the way Billy grips his luggage, Dom knows two things: the flight was turbulent and Billy hasn't meditated in two days.
So it's a surprise when Billy greets him with a customary hug. It's an even bigger one when he keeps hanging on when Dom tries to let go.
"Rough flight?" Dom asks against Billy's ear.
"No, not really. Just long." Billy tightens his grip and then lets go. "Let's go home." He strides briskly off in the wrong direction.
Dom sighs and then shouts, "Oi!"
Billy keeps walking, most likely because the din of brakes, buses and horns just concatenated into a deafening wall.
Dom sticks his fingers into his lips and whistles. "BILLY!"
Billy turns. "WHAT?!"
"Car's that way!" Dom points to his right.
"Why didn't you say so?" Billy stalks off.
Dom only notices the bag Billy left on the ground because his foot hits it as he turns. He picks it up and runs to catch up with Billy. "This is going to be a long visit," he mutters to himself. Then, "Yesssss!"
The ride home has Dom a bit worried. Usually, they chitter-chat in a tumble of catching up, even if Billy is tired. This time, Billy's walled himself off so much that Dom doesn't want to break in. All in all, Dom's glad there isn't a traffic jam.
The first thing Dom does when they get home is to fluff up the meditation cushion. The next thing is to take Billy's bags - when Billy starts to protest, he just points firmly to the cushion - and secure them in the guest room. After that, he takes inventory for the third time that day and finds that yes, he still has fresh oats, coffee and-
"Fuck," he mutters. He scribbles a note on a post-it and goes to the shop for milk.
He stays away as long as he can, arriving home an hour and a half after he left.
Billy's in the kitchen, poking through the fridge.
Dom reaches past him to put the milk and eggs away, noticing that even though Billy is calmer, he's still radiating tension. "Want to talk about it?"
"Maybe in a bit," Billy says. "Here's your present, by the way." He hands Dom a small, smooth pebble. It's salmon pink with stripes of quartz.
"I thought it was illegal to pick these things up," says Dom, gazing at it.
"It is." Billy is practically encircling Dom without even touching him. "And I don't care. I was on the beach, thinking of you and this wave came along and pushed this pebble onto my foot."
"Well, you can't refuse a gift like that, can you?"
"I'm serious, Dom."
Dom looks at Billy and knows that it's not a joke. Without a word, he takes Billy in his arms and is grateful that Billy returns the embrace instead of shoving him away. "Thanks," he murmurs.
"It's good to see you," Billy whispers against Dom's ear.
"You, too." They hold for a few more seconds before Billy pulls away. "Let's go for a swim!" He claps Dom on the arms and disappears to the guest room - his room, as they usually call it.
*****
Over supper at Dom's favourite new restaurant, their conversation feels odd. Billy's chattering about this and that, but there's a shadow in his eyes that Dom thinks only he and Ali could see. Dom knows to give Billy space when he's like this, but he hopes that the clouds will lift sooner, rather than later. Even though they have three months together, a lot of it's tied up in meetings and filmings for both of them, and there is that bloody script they keep putting off.
Neither of them is drinking anything other than tap water. It's a shame, because there are good pubs around the area, complete with friendly expats who'll greet them as they would anyone else and then leave them alone. But Dom has to be careful about his habit and Billy is watching his weight, and they're both sufficiently on edge that imbibing is not the best idea. Too bad, because Dom loves the smell of Billy over a pint.
They walk home the long way by mutual, unspoken agreement. They both need the space and air by the beach. And truth be told, Billy's always easier to be around when he's walked off whatever is bothering him.
Billy's face is beautiful in the setting sun. Dom remembers with a pang how gorgeous his ginger hair had been when it caught the light and how it had set his, Dom's, lust ablaze. But now, in middle age, with salt and pepper stubble kept barely at bay, Billy's chiselled features exude sex. Dom has been mostly straight all his life, with a couple of exceptions. Well, mostly one exception, named Billy. So it disturbs him more than he'll admit that Billy's increased maleness is far more of a turn-on than he bargained for. It also has disturbed him that Billy has come damned close to snogging him in public on more than one occasion, but that's because he's not sure if he could bear to write it off as a joke.
That's when Billy turns and says, "Ali knows about us."
Dom only just manages to keep walking. "I'm not sure what you mean...." I'm not sure I can keep breathing.
"She knows how you feel about me...."
"Well," Dom snorts, "everyone knows how I feel about you. Or claims to."
"And she knows how I feel about you."
Dom covers his shortness of breath with a laugh. "Billy, there are at least a billion people on the planet heard you tell me you loved me."
Billy nods, but the hurt flitting across his eyes hits Dom like a broken brick. "Usually followed by, 'but not like that'. Well, she now knows that I love you ... like that." He walks on, leaving Dom stuck to the pavement as though it had melted and sucked him in.