WIP Amnesty: Hotel AU
title: Hotel AU
pairing: Billy/Dom
rating: PG-13
words: 3300
warning: discontinued WIP (sorry), shifting POV, Dom having a bit of a stutter
summary: They work at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. Various things go wrong right before an important guest is scheduled to arrive.
disclaimer: very very untrue and unfinished.
a/n: I remember asking for a hotel AU a while back, and I couldn't remember if it was lotrips or bandom; I couldn't even remember if I'd written it or not. Well, apparently I did write it, or at least part of it. I'm not going to finish it, though, and I actually kinda like it, so that's why I'm posting it here. These are mostly just disconnected scenes of a much more involved story. Even though I wrote a little outline in this document, I don't remember the sequence of all the mishaps, so these scenes jump around a bit; I tried to put them in some semblance of logical order.
Dom spotted Billy just as he was about to dip his fingers into the sweet, creamy chicken sauce. He dove for the counter and slapped Billy’s hand away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dom asked shrilly.
“Tasting. Can’t serve the guests something that’s not edible,” Billy replied cheerfully.
“My cooking is always edible. Now get out of my kitchen, you bloody menace.”
“Oi!” Bean shouted from across the kitchen, where he was supervising the fish fillets. “Dominic, it’s my kitchen, and Billy, get the hell out unless you’re here to take these plates to table four.”
Billy shook his head and raised both hands in a gesture of peace. Dom rolled his eyes and turned back to the half-sautéed chicken. Just before leaving, Billy’s darted his hand out to dip into the saucepan, but Dom was immediately there to slap it away once again.
“Don’t touch my sauce,” he growled.
“Mmm, I love it when you get all protective. Even if it is over food,” Billy murmured, stepping closer to Dom. He leaned in and kissed the corner of Dom’s mouth, then waited until Dom’s eyes fluttered closed before reaching behind him to swipe at the sauce again. As he pulled away, Billy made a show of licking his finger clean.
Dom glared good-naturedly and drew one of his prized filet knives. “Out, you. Before I put you in the bloody sauce.”
“I’m going, I’m going. See you tonight?”
“After the dining hall’s closed,” Dom confirmed.
Billy kissed him on the tip of his nose.
“Billy, out! You’re distracting my sous chef!” Bean shouted, waving his hands emphatically. “Keep it up and Miranda won’t make you any more deserts.”
[the power’s gone out due to flooding; no one can leave or enter; the employees have to sleep in the few empty rooms - Billy and Dom share (obviously).]
Dom slept on his stomach, arms clutched around his pillow, with the sheets pushed down to around his waist, exposing his naked back. Billy curled around him on his side with one arm thrown across Dom and the other tucked between their bodies.
Sean knocked softly on the door, then used his universal key to open it. He held up his electric lantern; the sudden bright light hit Billy’s eyes and he squirmed, resisting consciousness.
“Billy?” Sean then caught sight of Billy and Dom on the bed, both seemingly naked, and made a quick retreat, nearly closing the door completely as he backed into the hallway. “Oh god, sorry, sorry ‘bout that.”
“Sean?” Billy called groggily. “’s’ok, you can come in.”
“Are you guys, um…”
“Sean, get your arse in here and close the door. And dim the light.”
Sean did as he was told and Billy carefully sat up and moved over to his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Dom.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“The night shift can’t get here, obviously, so we’re taking turns manning the front desk and guest services. Elijah’s down there now. You’re supposed to take over my shift,” Sean explained quietly, trying not to look over at Dom.
“Oh fuck. Who needs room service at arse-o’clock in the morning anyway?” Billy asked after checking his watch. Sean shrugged. “So I just have to go sit downstairs with Elijah for a few hours?”
“Yeah. Uh, Billy? Is it alright if I sleep here or should I try to find another empty room?” Sean asked nervously, gesturing towards Dom, who was still fast asleep.
“Here’s fine,” Billy sighed, getting out of bed and pulling on his trousers. “Dom won’t mind. Should warn you, though: he sometimes kicks in his sleep.” Billy quickly threw on a shirt and buttoned it halfway, then leaned across the bed to kiss Dom’s shoulder before taking Sean’s lantern and quietly exiting the room.
Sean sat down on the end of the bed, eying Dom apprehensively. He undressed to his boxers and undershirt and sat down again, watching Dom’s unmoving outline in the darkness. Finally, he sighed and slipped beneath the sheets to sleep.
“G’night, Dom. Don’t try to kiss me or anything when you wake up,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket up to his chin.
***
Billy and Elijah played the enormously amusing game of “I Spy” for about ten minutes before Elijah’s eyelids drooped and Billy slid sideways in his chair to rest his head on the desk. The ringing phone startled them both awake an indeterminable amount of time later. Billy jumped and answered it quickly.
“Yes? Hello? Uh, front desk here.”
“Hi. I’m in room three-oh-two, and the lights and TV aren’t working. Could someone come up and check the fuse box or something?”
“Oh, uh, mister…” Billy spun around to the computer to look up the guest’s name, then realized the computer wouldn’t turn on. “Uh, sir. I’m very sorry, but we’re having a small power outage. Two of the access roads are flooded during the night and we’ve been informed that the repairmen can’t get here until tomorrow afternoon.”
Billy snapped his fingers at Elijah to get his attention, then made vague hand motions that Elijah couldn’t possibly decipher, even if all the lights had been on at full power. Elijah watched him with wide eyes and a confused expression.
“Someone will be right up with a torch,” he said, putting emphasis on ‘someone’ and ‘torch’. Then he added, “…flashlight,” realizing the American guest might not know what he was talking about. “What’s your room number again, sir?” The man repeated it. “Three-oh-two,” Billy whispered to Elijah. “Thank you for your patience, sir. Someone will be up in just a moment.”
By the time Billy hung up the phone, Elijah had gone up the stairs with a torch for the guest and one of the brighter, larger lanterns for himself. Fifteen minutes later, Elijah appeared again, turned off his lantern, darkening the room considerably, and flopped into his chair beside Billy.
“I’m tired, Bill.”
“Me too, Lijah.”
“I’m not built for 24-hour shifts.”
Billy snorted. “Lij, you’ve had three hours of sleep,” he pointed out.
“Well then… I’m not built for two really long shifts right back to back like this with very little sleep in between,” Elijah conceded.
“Look at it this way, then. Tomorrow morning, Orli and Sean will have to work to make up for dumping the night shift on us, meaning we can sleep.”
Elijah’s eyes brightened in the low light for a moment, but then his face fell. “We have to serve breakfast in the morning.”
Billy groaned and bent over to knock his head against the hard mahogany desk.
“Don’t give yourself a fucking concussion and leave me here to work alone,” Elijah muttered, pulling Billy upright. “Power outages fucking suck, man.”
The two men slumped over in their seats to doze with their heads on the desk. As the sun hit the large front windows, they were again startled awake by the phone.
“Hello? Front desk,” Billy answered in a thick, sleepy voice.
“Billy, you bastard. I woke up a minute ago to find Sean bloody Astin lying in bed with me.”
“Oh, right. Morning, love.”
“I was fucking naked.”
Elijah must’ve been able to hear Dom’s tone of voice, if not his words, because he started giggling behind his hand.
“Yes, well, sorry about that, but there’s only a limited amount of beds, you know,” Billy said conversationally.
“I tried to fucking kiss him! And-and-and… eughhh.”
“Where is he now?”
“Shower.” Dom sighed loudly. “Power’s still out.”
“Yes, Dom, I know. Thanks for that clever observation.” Billy sighed. Half-asleep humour was not his greatest.
“I’m going to go wake up Sean. Bean, I mean. To start breakfast. What room is he in?”
“Um, here, talk to Elijah,” Billy said tiredly, passing the handset off. He half-listened to Elijah and Dom chatting and was surprised when he felt Sean Astin’s hand shaking him awake.
“You guys can go to bed for about two hours, but we have to have breakfast out by eight.”
“Isn’t breakfast at seven?” Elijah asked blearily.
“I imagine Bean and Dom are going to have trouble cooking without power, so breakfast has been officially postponed,” Sean explained. “Go get some sleep before the guests start waking up.
Billy and Elijah nodded and headed for the stairs. They were met by Bean and Dom on their way down to the kitchen. Dom grabbed Billy’s arm and pulled him aside for a kiss.
“Mmm, that’s better,” Dom said softly when they broke apart.
“Better’n what?”
“Sean.”
“Astin,” Bean added unnecessarily from a few steps down the stairs. “C’mon, Dominic.”
“Yeah, c’mon, Bill, let’s go to bed. You guys can kiss and fuck and whatever else it is you do later,” Elijah agreed from a few steps up the stairs.
Billy and Dom kissed again, chastely, before going their separate ways. When Dom and Bean entered the kitchen, there was harshly bright sunlight streaming in through the eastern window.
“At least we’ll be able to see,” Dom said, sighing.
Bean stepped up to his usual workstation. His body blocked the light shining on his the counter in front of him.
“…sort of,” Dom amended. He went to the door to put on his apron and got Bean’s down from its hook to toss it to him. “So, what are we making this morning with no power, sour dairy products, and thawed meat?”
“Sour dairy products?” Bean asked quickly, obviously confused.
“The freezer and the refrigerator have been out for about ten hours,” Dom explained, unsure of why Bean hadn’t realized that.
“But we’re supposed to get-"
“The roads are flooded. No deliveries.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. So, master chef, what are we making today?”
“Jesus, we can’t even serve cold cereal and milk!” Bean said loudly, throwing his hands up in the air.
“We’ve got eggs, bread, spices, and… warm meat, if you dare to use it,” Dom said, looking into the storage room. “And no ice, I’ve just realized. No milk, no… wait, can we serve warm orange juice?”
“I wouldn’t.” Bean sighed heavily. “Start up the stoves and the oven, if you can. It’s going to get bloody hot in here with no air conditioning or fans.”
“What are we making?”
“You start with the eggs, then toast if you can brown it without burning anything. I’ll try to scrounge up some edible bacon or something. Do you think this fruit is fresh enough?” Bean held up an orange that looked very slightly bruised and made a face at it. “Ugh, no, I won’t serve my guests this shite.”
Dom shrugged and set to work lighting the appliances with a box of matches. He flicked on the gas, but of course, no flames sparked. Dom could hear the hiss that told him the gas was on, though, and he bent down with the match.
“Remind me to sue you if I blow myself up,” he grumbled, then struck the match. A very large flame shot up immediately, then dispersed through the burners, lighting each. Dom fell back onto his arse and stared at the shrinking flames. “Jesus Christ,” he panted. “Do I still have my fucking eyebrows?”
Half an hour later, Billy poked his head in around the server’s door.
“What are you doing up?” Dom asked distractedly, catching sight of him. “Didn’t you just go to bed like… I dunno, a short time ago?”
He flipped the fried eggs one-handed and turned down the heat on the burner. Bean had taken over the toast-making after Dom had proclaimed he would never go near the ‘evil oven’ again. With his other hand, Dom swirled a wet mixture of eggs and bits of potato and bacon in another pan.
Before Billy could answer, Dom continued speaking. “Actually, can you not be here right now? I’m kind of…” he trailed off, suddenly looking over his shoulder at yet another pan, the contents of which had caught fire. Dom stirred the mixture and added some water to douse the flames. “…busy,” Dom finished, glancing apologetically at Billy.
Billy bit his lip to fight off a grin, nodded, and ducked out, without even trying to snag a taste of anything. Actually, there wasn’t much in the kitchen at the moment that he wanted to taste.
Breakfast, served by Billy and Orlando, and Sean too when he could stand to be away from the front desk, was a meager success. There were no outright complaints, at any rate. When the dining hall had cleared, both Billy and Orlando went into the kitchen to survey the damage. They found Bean and Dom sitting on the floor beside each other, passing a bottle of sherry back and forth. Orlando raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Dom said indignantly. “We couldn’t very well go out to the bar and steal the vodka now, could we?”
“You still have lunch and dinner to prepare!”
“Miranda and Lawrence should be here by then,” Bean said optimistically, which was a bit out of character for him. Dom shrugged.
Just then, the delivery door burst open and Andy tumbled in, lugging a heavy tool box.
“Alright, what have you lot fucked up now?” he said loudly, staring at the four occupants of the kitchen.
“Andy!” Dom cried, jumping up to greet the man. He sprinted over and flung his arms around Andy’s neck and kissed his cheek wetly. “I love you, Andy Serkis.”
“Oi, what about me?” Billy objected with a grin.
“Boyd, get your fucking boyfriend off of me. Now, what’s broken?”
“Andy…” Orlando began uncertainly. “You’re… here. Are the roads clear?”
“One is. Fucking nightmare to get through anyway. I followed behind the fucking power company’s fucking repair truck.”
“But we still don’t have power,” Billy pointed out.
“From what I hear, they’re working on it. Who knows how fucking long it’ll take those fucking bastards, though. Power at my house was out as well; took them fucking ages to fix it.”
Dom nuzzled into Andy’s neck.
“Is he fucking drunk?”
“Not really,” Bean replied easily, holding up the bottle. “Just tipsy, I think.”
All at once, the lights and appliances turned on. A sudden burst of flame shot up from one of the stove’s burners, surprising everyone.
“Hey, the power’s back!” Dom said unnecessarily.
Andy dropped him to the floor.
Bean moved quickly through the kitchen, putting his own knives and utensils in their proper places. Dom scampered behind him, an expression of shock and anxiety on his face.
“You… You can’t just leave me!”
“You’re perfectly capable, Dominic, it’s why I hired you.”
“But-but-but… I can’t do what you do!”
“You don’t have to. You just have to keep everyone under control, and keep my kitchen in working order until I get back.”
“How long?”
“Five days. I have to fly to London, sort out whatever Marie is having issues with, and then fly back here. I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone.” Bean spun around and smiled happily at Dom, then patted him on his head, just because he couldn’t resist when Dom had that expression.
Dom made several attempts at speech, but didn’t manage to form a coherent sentence.
“You’ll be fine. You’ve got Miranda and Sala here. I have confidence in you, Dom.”
Wide eyed, Dom watched Bean finish up and proceed to the door to hang up his apron. Sean Bean had confidence in him. And he’d called him Dom, which just didn’t happen. Ever.
“Oh, and Dominic?” Bean called over his shoulder, “Don’t hyperventilate.” With a final chuckle, Bean let the door swing shut behind him.
Dom’s head felt faint. He put a hand on the counter and lowered himself down to the floor. “Oh god.”
He sat there, almost unblinking, for some time before Billy finally found him.
“Dom? Are you alright? What are you doing on the floor?” he asked urgently when he caught sight of Dom, hugging his knees and leaning against the oven door.
“I’m fucked. I’m so dead, Bill. Bean left. Oh god.”
“Bean left? He quit? What’s going on?”
“No. Went to London. He left me alone. Here. Oh god.”
“Bean went to London?” Billy asked, trying to decipher Dom’s fragmented ramblings. Dom nodded. “He’s coming back, though, right?” Dom nodded again.
“Five days. Fuck, Billy, five whole days. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and deserts. Five days of them.”
“Miranda does the deserts,” Billy pointed out, trying to be helpful. “You’re in charge of the kitchen, then?” Dom nodded a third time. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Rather good, actually. Like a trial promotion, right?”
“I can’t do this, Billy.”
“Sure you can. And I’m sure Bean thinks so too, if he left you in charge. It’ll be fine.”
“Billy?”
“Yes, Dom?”
“I feel a bit sick.”
“Oh, my poor Dommeh. It’s just nerves; you’ll be fine. Now let’s go talk to Cate and get out of here.”
***
[Bean is away and Dom doesn’t have enough help in the kitchen for some reason. He looks out the door and motions frantically for Billy, who comes immediately, worried.]
“Dom, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Billy asked urgently. Dom looked frightened, and Billy had never seen him like that before. “C’mon, Dom, tell me what’s happened.”
“I-I-I-I can’t, Billy,” Dom stuttered spastically. He quickly brought his fist to his mouth and bit down sharply on his knuckle. Billy patted his back, waiting for him to get himself under control. After a deep breath, Dom started again.
“I can’t cook alone. There’s fucking nobody in there, and dinner’s in half a bloody hour, and not only do I not know how to make all the fucking dishes, I can’t do it by myself. Not the whole kitchen. There’s just fucking nobody, Bill. I’m the only one. I can’t handle this. Too much fucking stress. Too much work. Impossible, I’m telling you. Have to tell Cate; can’t do it tonight, can’t have the-the-the-fuck, dinner, shite.”
Billy listened to Dom babble for a moment, then put his hand firmly over Dom’s mouth, silencing him. He held Dom’s wide-eyed gaze, trying to communicate calm, cool confidence without words.
“There’s no one to help you in the kitchen?”
As Billy’s hand was still over his mouth, Dom shook his head ‘no.’
“Do you really believe you need to talk to Cate and tell her that you just can’t do it?”
Dom’s face crumpled behind Billy’s hand. Above all else, Dom hated being labeled incompetent or, at worst, a failure.
Billy’s eyes softened compassionately, but he asked again, “Do you honestly believe you can’t do it without help?”
Finally, Dom nodded sadly. Billy thought for a moment, keeping his hand over Dom’s mouth so Dom wouldn’t distract him, but Dom curled his fingers around Billy’s wrist and tugged his arm down.
“I just… I need help, Billy.”
“I’ll help you, then.”
“Billy…” Dom began, about to voice what they were both thinking. “You-you haven’t-you’re not-fuck, Billy… You don’t know how.”
“I know. But just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, whatever you need, even if it’s just washing dishes so you have a clean workspace.”
Dom struggled with the decision for what felt like an eternity before nodding his assent. He led Billy slowly into the kitchen and stared around at the empty counters. Billy turned him around so they could face each other.
With a hand on either side of Dom’s face, Billy smiled encouragingly and said, “Dominic, tell me what to do.”
[That's all, folks. Sorry.]
pairing: Billy/Dom
rating: PG-13
words: 3300
warning: discontinued WIP (sorry), shifting POV, Dom having a bit of a stutter
summary: They work at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. Various things go wrong right before an important guest is scheduled to arrive.
disclaimer: very very untrue and unfinished.
a/n: I remember asking for a hotel AU a while back, and I couldn't remember if it was lotrips or bandom; I couldn't even remember if I'd written it or not. Well, apparently I did write it, or at least part of it. I'm not going to finish it, though, and I actually kinda like it, so that's why I'm posting it here. These are mostly just disconnected scenes of a much more involved story. Even though I wrote a little outline in this document, I don't remember the sequence of all the mishaps, so these scenes jump around a bit; I tried to put them in some semblance of logical order.
Dom spotted Billy just as he was about to dip his fingers into the sweet, creamy chicken sauce. He dove for the counter and slapped Billy’s hand away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dom asked shrilly.
“Tasting. Can’t serve the guests something that’s not edible,” Billy replied cheerfully.
“My cooking is always edible. Now get out of my kitchen, you bloody menace.”
“Oi!” Bean shouted from across the kitchen, where he was supervising the fish fillets. “Dominic, it’s my kitchen, and Billy, get the hell out unless you’re here to take these plates to table four.”
Billy shook his head and raised both hands in a gesture of peace. Dom rolled his eyes and turned back to the half-sautéed chicken. Just before leaving, Billy’s darted his hand out to dip into the saucepan, but Dom was immediately there to slap it away once again.
“Don’t touch my sauce,” he growled.
“Mmm, I love it when you get all protective. Even if it is over food,” Billy murmured, stepping closer to Dom. He leaned in and kissed the corner of Dom’s mouth, then waited until Dom’s eyes fluttered closed before reaching behind him to swipe at the sauce again. As he pulled away, Billy made a show of licking his finger clean.
Dom glared good-naturedly and drew one of his prized filet knives. “Out, you. Before I put you in the bloody sauce.”
“I’m going, I’m going. See you tonight?”
“After the dining hall’s closed,” Dom confirmed.
Billy kissed him on the tip of his nose.
“Billy, out! You’re distracting my sous chef!” Bean shouted, waving his hands emphatically. “Keep it up and Miranda won’t make you any more deserts.”
[the power’s gone out due to flooding; no one can leave or enter; the employees have to sleep in the few empty rooms - Billy and Dom share (obviously).]
Dom slept on his stomach, arms clutched around his pillow, with the sheets pushed down to around his waist, exposing his naked back. Billy curled around him on his side with one arm thrown across Dom and the other tucked between their bodies.
Sean knocked softly on the door, then used his universal key to open it. He held up his electric lantern; the sudden bright light hit Billy’s eyes and he squirmed, resisting consciousness.
“Billy?” Sean then caught sight of Billy and Dom on the bed, both seemingly naked, and made a quick retreat, nearly closing the door completely as he backed into the hallway. “Oh god, sorry, sorry ‘bout that.”
“Sean?” Billy called groggily. “’s’ok, you can come in.”
“Are you guys, um…”
“Sean, get your arse in here and close the door. And dim the light.”
Sean did as he was told and Billy carefully sat up and moved over to his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Dom.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“The night shift can’t get here, obviously, so we’re taking turns manning the front desk and guest services. Elijah’s down there now. You’re supposed to take over my shift,” Sean explained quietly, trying not to look over at Dom.
“Oh fuck. Who needs room service at arse-o’clock in the morning anyway?” Billy asked after checking his watch. Sean shrugged. “So I just have to go sit downstairs with Elijah for a few hours?”
“Yeah. Uh, Billy? Is it alright if I sleep here or should I try to find another empty room?” Sean asked nervously, gesturing towards Dom, who was still fast asleep.
“Here’s fine,” Billy sighed, getting out of bed and pulling on his trousers. “Dom won’t mind. Should warn you, though: he sometimes kicks in his sleep.” Billy quickly threw on a shirt and buttoned it halfway, then leaned across the bed to kiss Dom’s shoulder before taking Sean’s lantern and quietly exiting the room.
Sean sat down on the end of the bed, eying Dom apprehensively. He undressed to his boxers and undershirt and sat down again, watching Dom’s unmoving outline in the darkness. Finally, he sighed and slipped beneath the sheets to sleep.
“G’night, Dom. Don’t try to kiss me or anything when you wake up,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket up to his chin.
***
Billy and Elijah played the enormously amusing game of “I Spy” for about ten minutes before Elijah’s eyelids drooped and Billy slid sideways in his chair to rest his head on the desk. The ringing phone startled them both awake an indeterminable amount of time later. Billy jumped and answered it quickly.
“Yes? Hello? Uh, front desk here.”
“Hi. I’m in room three-oh-two, and the lights and TV aren’t working. Could someone come up and check the fuse box or something?”
“Oh, uh, mister…” Billy spun around to the computer to look up the guest’s name, then realized the computer wouldn’t turn on. “Uh, sir. I’m very sorry, but we’re having a small power outage. Two of the access roads are flooded during the night and we’ve been informed that the repairmen can’t get here until tomorrow afternoon.”
Billy snapped his fingers at Elijah to get his attention, then made vague hand motions that Elijah couldn’t possibly decipher, even if all the lights had been on at full power. Elijah watched him with wide eyes and a confused expression.
“Someone will be right up with a torch,” he said, putting emphasis on ‘someone’ and ‘torch’. Then he added, “…flashlight,” realizing the American guest might not know what he was talking about. “What’s your room number again, sir?” The man repeated it. “Three-oh-two,” Billy whispered to Elijah. “Thank you for your patience, sir. Someone will be up in just a moment.”
By the time Billy hung up the phone, Elijah had gone up the stairs with a torch for the guest and one of the brighter, larger lanterns for himself. Fifteen minutes later, Elijah appeared again, turned off his lantern, darkening the room considerably, and flopped into his chair beside Billy.
“I’m tired, Bill.”
“Me too, Lijah.”
“I’m not built for 24-hour shifts.”
Billy snorted. “Lij, you’ve had three hours of sleep,” he pointed out.
“Well then… I’m not built for two really long shifts right back to back like this with very little sleep in between,” Elijah conceded.
“Look at it this way, then. Tomorrow morning, Orli and Sean will have to work to make up for dumping the night shift on us, meaning we can sleep.”
Elijah’s eyes brightened in the low light for a moment, but then his face fell. “We have to serve breakfast in the morning.”
Billy groaned and bent over to knock his head against the hard mahogany desk.
“Don’t give yourself a fucking concussion and leave me here to work alone,” Elijah muttered, pulling Billy upright. “Power outages fucking suck, man.”
The two men slumped over in their seats to doze with their heads on the desk. As the sun hit the large front windows, they were again startled awake by the phone.
“Hello? Front desk,” Billy answered in a thick, sleepy voice.
“Billy, you bastard. I woke up a minute ago to find Sean bloody Astin lying in bed with me.”
“Oh, right. Morning, love.”
“I was fucking naked.”
Elijah must’ve been able to hear Dom’s tone of voice, if not his words, because he started giggling behind his hand.
“Yes, well, sorry about that, but there’s only a limited amount of beds, you know,” Billy said conversationally.
“I tried to fucking kiss him! And-and-and… eughhh.”
“Where is he now?”
“Shower.” Dom sighed loudly. “Power’s still out.”
“Yes, Dom, I know. Thanks for that clever observation.” Billy sighed. Half-asleep humour was not his greatest.
“I’m going to go wake up Sean. Bean, I mean. To start breakfast. What room is he in?”
“Um, here, talk to Elijah,” Billy said tiredly, passing the handset off. He half-listened to Elijah and Dom chatting and was surprised when he felt Sean Astin’s hand shaking him awake.
“You guys can go to bed for about two hours, but we have to have breakfast out by eight.”
“Isn’t breakfast at seven?” Elijah asked blearily.
“I imagine Bean and Dom are going to have trouble cooking without power, so breakfast has been officially postponed,” Sean explained. “Go get some sleep before the guests start waking up.
Billy and Elijah nodded and headed for the stairs. They were met by Bean and Dom on their way down to the kitchen. Dom grabbed Billy’s arm and pulled him aside for a kiss.
“Mmm, that’s better,” Dom said softly when they broke apart.
“Better’n what?”
“Sean.”
“Astin,” Bean added unnecessarily from a few steps down the stairs. “C’mon, Dominic.”
“Yeah, c’mon, Bill, let’s go to bed. You guys can kiss and fuck and whatever else it is you do later,” Elijah agreed from a few steps up the stairs.
Billy and Dom kissed again, chastely, before going their separate ways. When Dom and Bean entered the kitchen, there was harshly bright sunlight streaming in through the eastern window.
“At least we’ll be able to see,” Dom said, sighing.
Bean stepped up to his usual workstation. His body blocked the light shining on his the counter in front of him.
“…sort of,” Dom amended. He went to the door to put on his apron and got Bean’s down from its hook to toss it to him. “So, what are we making this morning with no power, sour dairy products, and thawed meat?”
“Sour dairy products?” Bean asked quickly, obviously confused.
“The freezer and the refrigerator have been out for about ten hours,” Dom explained, unsure of why Bean hadn’t realized that.
“But we’re supposed to get-"
“The roads are flooded. No deliveries.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. So, master chef, what are we making today?”
“Jesus, we can’t even serve cold cereal and milk!” Bean said loudly, throwing his hands up in the air.
“We’ve got eggs, bread, spices, and… warm meat, if you dare to use it,” Dom said, looking into the storage room. “And no ice, I’ve just realized. No milk, no… wait, can we serve warm orange juice?”
“I wouldn’t.” Bean sighed heavily. “Start up the stoves and the oven, if you can. It’s going to get bloody hot in here with no air conditioning or fans.”
“What are we making?”
“You start with the eggs, then toast if you can brown it without burning anything. I’ll try to scrounge up some edible bacon or something. Do you think this fruit is fresh enough?” Bean held up an orange that looked very slightly bruised and made a face at it. “Ugh, no, I won’t serve my guests this shite.”
Dom shrugged and set to work lighting the appliances with a box of matches. He flicked on the gas, but of course, no flames sparked. Dom could hear the hiss that told him the gas was on, though, and he bent down with the match.
“Remind me to sue you if I blow myself up,” he grumbled, then struck the match. A very large flame shot up immediately, then dispersed through the burners, lighting each. Dom fell back onto his arse and stared at the shrinking flames. “Jesus Christ,” he panted. “Do I still have my fucking eyebrows?”
Half an hour later, Billy poked his head in around the server’s door.
“What are you doing up?” Dom asked distractedly, catching sight of him. “Didn’t you just go to bed like… I dunno, a short time ago?”
He flipped the fried eggs one-handed and turned down the heat on the burner. Bean had taken over the toast-making after Dom had proclaimed he would never go near the ‘evil oven’ again. With his other hand, Dom swirled a wet mixture of eggs and bits of potato and bacon in another pan.
Before Billy could answer, Dom continued speaking. “Actually, can you not be here right now? I’m kind of…” he trailed off, suddenly looking over his shoulder at yet another pan, the contents of which had caught fire. Dom stirred the mixture and added some water to douse the flames. “…busy,” Dom finished, glancing apologetically at Billy.
Billy bit his lip to fight off a grin, nodded, and ducked out, without even trying to snag a taste of anything. Actually, there wasn’t much in the kitchen at the moment that he wanted to taste.
Breakfast, served by Billy and Orlando, and Sean too when he could stand to be away from the front desk, was a meager success. There were no outright complaints, at any rate. When the dining hall had cleared, both Billy and Orlando went into the kitchen to survey the damage. They found Bean and Dom sitting on the floor beside each other, passing a bottle of sherry back and forth. Orlando raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Dom said indignantly. “We couldn’t very well go out to the bar and steal the vodka now, could we?”
“You still have lunch and dinner to prepare!”
“Miranda and Lawrence should be here by then,” Bean said optimistically, which was a bit out of character for him. Dom shrugged.
Just then, the delivery door burst open and Andy tumbled in, lugging a heavy tool box.
“Alright, what have you lot fucked up now?” he said loudly, staring at the four occupants of the kitchen.
“Andy!” Dom cried, jumping up to greet the man. He sprinted over and flung his arms around Andy’s neck and kissed his cheek wetly. “I love you, Andy Serkis.”
“Oi, what about me?” Billy objected with a grin.
“Boyd, get your fucking boyfriend off of me. Now, what’s broken?”
“Andy…” Orlando began uncertainly. “You’re… here. Are the roads clear?”
“One is. Fucking nightmare to get through anyway. I followed behind the fucking power company’s fucking repair truck.”
“But we still don’t have power,” Billy pointed out.
“From what I hear, they’re working on it. Who knows how fucking long it’ll take those fucking bastards, though. Power at my house was out as well; took them fucking ages to fix it.”
Dom nuzzled into Andy’s neck.
“Is he fucking drunk?”
“Not really,” Bean replied easily, holding up the bottle. “Just tipsy, I think.”
All at once, the lights and appliances turned on. A sudden burst of flame shot up from one of the stove’s burners, surprising everyone.
“Hey, the power’s back!” Dom said unnecessarily.
Andy dropped him to the floor.
Bean moved quickly through the kitchen, putting his own knives and utensils in their proper places. Dom scampered behind him, an expression of shock and anxiety on his face.
“You… You can’t just leave me!”
“You’re perfectly capable, Dominic, it’s why I hired you.”
“But-but-but… I can’t do what you do!”
“You don’t have to. You just have to keep everyone under control, and keep my kitchen in working order until I get back.”
“How long?”
“Five days. I have to fly to London, sort out whatever Marie is having issues with, and then fly back here. I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone.” Bean spun around and smiled happily at Dom, then patted him on his head, just because he couldn’t resist when Dom had that expression.
Dom made several attempts at speech, but didn’t manage to form a coherent sentence.
“You’ll be fine. You’ve got Miranda and Sala here. I have confidence in you, Dom.”
Wide eyed, Dom watched Bean finish up and proceed to the door to hang up his apron. Sean Bean had confidence in him. And he’d called him Dom, which just didn’t happen. Ever.
“Oh, and Dominic?” Bean called over his shoulder, “Don’t hyperventilate.” With a final chuckle, Bean let the door swing shut behind him.
Dom’s head felt faint. He put a hand on the counter and lowered himself down to the floor. “Oh god.”
He sat there, almost unblinking, for some time before Billy finally found him.
“Dom? Are you alright? What are you doing on the floor?” he asked urgently when he caught sight of Dom, hugging his knees and leaning against the oven door.
“I’m fucked. I’m so dead, Bill. Bean left. Oh god.”
“Bean left? He quit? What’s going on?”
“No. Went to London. He left me alone. Here. Oh god.”
“Bean went to London?” Billy asked, trying to decipher Dom’s fragmented ramblings. Dom nodded. “He’s coming back, though, right?” Dom nodded again.
“Five days. Fuck, Billy, five whole days. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and deserts. Five days of them.”
“Miranda does the deserts,” Billy pointed out, trying to be helpful. “You’re in charge of the kitchen, then?” Dom nodded a third time. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Rather good, actually. Like a trial promotion, right?”
“I can’t do this, Billy.”
“Sure you can. And I’m sure Bean thinks so too, if he left you in charge. It’ll be fine.”
“Billy?”
“Yes, Dom?”
“I feel a bit sick.”
“Oh, my poor Dommeh. It’s just nerves; you’ll be fine. Now let’s go talk to Cate and get out of here.”
***
[Bean is away and Dom doesn’t have enough help in the kitchen for some reason. He looks out the door and motions frantically for Billy, who comes immediately, worried.]
“Dom, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Billy asked urgently. Dom looked frightened, and Billy had never seen him like that before. “C’mon, Dom, tell me what’s happened.”
“I-I-I-I can’t, Billy,” Dom stuttered spastically. He quickly brought his fist to his mouth and bit down sharply on his knuckle. Billy patted his back, waiting for him to get himself under control. After a deep breath, Dom started again.
“I can’t cook alone. There’s fucking nobody in there, and dinner’s in half a bloody hour, and not only do I not know how to make all the fucking dishes, I can’t do it by myself. Not the whole kitchen. There’s just fucking nobody, Bill. I’m the only one. I can’t handle this. Too much fucking stress. Too much work. Impossible, I’m telling you. Have to tell Cate; can’t do it tonight, can’t have the-the-the-fuck, dinner, shite.”
Billy listened to Dom babble for a moment, then put his hand firmly over Dom’s mouth, silencing him. He held Dom’s wide-eyed gaze, trying to communicate calm, cool confidence without words.
“There’s no one to help you in the kitchen?”
As Billy’s hand was still over his mouth, Dom shook his head ‘no.’
“Do you really believe you need to talk to Cate and tell her that you just can’t do it?”
Dom’s face crumpled behind Billy’s hand. Above all else, Dom hated being labeled incompetent or, at worst, a failure.
Billy’s eyes softened compassionately, but he asked again, “Do you honestly believe you can’t do it without help?”
Finally, Dom nodded sadly. Billy thought for a moment, keeping his hand over Dom’s mouth so Dom wouldn’t distract him, but Dom curled his fingers around Billy’s wrist and tugged his arm down.
“I just… I need help, Billy.”
“I’ll help you, then.”
“Billy…” Dom began, about to voice what they were both thinking. “You-you haven’t-you’re not-fuck, Billy… You don’t know how.”
“I know. But just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, whatever you need, even if it’s just washing dishes so you have a clean workspace.”
Dom struggled with the decision for what felt like an eternity before nodding his assent. He led Billy slowly into the kitchen and stared around at the empty counters. Billy turned him around so they could face each other.
With a hand on either side of Dom’s face, Billy smiled encouragingly and said, “Dominic, tell me what to do.”
[That's all, folks. Sorry.]