(no subject)
Title: To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Author: lavitanuova/dizzydame (one and the same)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Billy/Dom, vaguely Merry/Pippin
Notes: This was my slashy_letters fic, written for rubynye. A special thanks to maverick0324 for her wonderful suggestions, many of which I blatantly stole. ;)
Cross-posted to lavitanuova, slashy_letters, and monaboyd.
Billy was almost afraid to close his eyes.
His room was dark, the faint moonlight even blocked by thick, heavy drapes over his windows. His fingers clutched and kneaded at the duvet restlessly. He wasn't afraid; there was no fear in what sleep would bring, only a curious unrest. He'd been having the dreams for over a month now, and he still had yet to tell anyone.
They always started the same... black all around him, the feel of damp grass between his toes. And then he'd open his eyes, and he'd be standing there, in a field. A large field, with tall stalks of corn just off to one side.
The dreams are very vivid. More vivid than any dream Billy had ever had, more vivid than he'd ever imagined any dream could be.
They started out with bright skies. And the smell of apples in the air. And a warm voice beside him, calling his name. "Pippin, come see this," It would say. Or, "Pippin, give it over, that apple was mine!" And Billy would suddenly realise that, yes, there was an apple in his hand, and a fresh bite in his mouth. And he'd chew around it and give a cheeky grin and toss Dom the apple.
Except, it wasn't Dom, was it? It wasn't. Couldn't be, it was Merry. Merry, in his dream. With buttery soft curls that were real when he threaded his fingers through them. Merry, living and breathing, mouth pressed firmly to his. To Pippin's.
Billy shivered, and pressed his face into the pillow. It was a losing battle, trying to not sleep when it was the one thing his body craved, but he still found himself attempting it. The dreams were - they just were, every night, there was no end to it. Billy was Pippin was Billy was Pippin was Billy. And Dom was Merry, and that started a whole 'nother round of tossing and turning, with the very idea of it.
Dom was a bloke that Billy'd made fast friends with. Dom was a mate, a fucking ace mate, but a mate that liked to snog girls on the dance floor and take them home at night sometimes. Billy knew this. He knew it, because Dom was also quite fond of the bragging.
Billy also liked those sorts of things too. That leggy blonde, just last week, she'd been a great lay. And he and Dom had laughed over it, hadn't they? About how there must be something in the water, how the New Zealand birds liked it wild in bed. How they couldn't resist the charm of Monaghan and Boyd.
And then Billy'd hung up the phone and fallen asleep, and dreamed about Merry turning him (Pippin) over in the grass and giving it to him nice and proper, up the arse.
Billy hadn't been able to look Dom in the eye for a whole day after that one.
But it was even more than that. It was more than Merry and Pippin shagging; it was the feelings, too. The feelings were almost more than he could handle.
Pippin loved Merry.
Pippin loved Merry.
Pippin (Billy) always wanted to be around Merry. If Merry wasn't in the field, when the dreams began, he'd inevitable find himself yearning, feeling a bit lost. And his feet would take him toward the Hall or the Smials or Bag End (the field seemed to have the ability to relocate itself) and he'd open his mouth and Merry's name would come out, a shout and a question and a plea all at once. And he'd find Merry, and he'd throw himself in Merry's arms, and bury his face in Merry's neck and breathe in warm, dark smelling tobacco and sweet plums. And Merry would hold him so nice and tight, and it'd be the best thing that Pippin (Billy) had ever felt.
And he'd look at Merry, and he'd see Dom, and something in him (Pippin) would get a bit confused at that. And he'd say, "Kiss me, Merry, quick," And Merry would laugh - or shush him, depending on where they were and who was about - and usually take him off and snog him good.
And Billy would wake up, and he'd feel like crying because he'd miss Merry so much, and he'd want Merry just there, beside him. And then Dom would ring (his daily pre-dawn wake up call) and the feeling would intensify, so hard it'd leave him gasping.
But he was an actor, and he would cover it up, and by the time Dom rang his doorbell, he'd be just fine.
"So, I had this dream," Dom said, sliding into his chair beside Billy.
"Yeah?" Billy leaned back, his jaw dropping a bit as the wig girl rubbed glue onto a particularly sensitive spot.
Dom poked him in the side. "Pay attention, this is important."
"Yeah?" Billy shifted his head to the side, and lifted an eyebrow. "Not the dream about Sir Ian again, I hope? You should have professional help for that one, I'm afraid I'm of no use."
"Wanker," Dom snickered. "No, a different one. In it, I'm Merry and you're Pippin."
Dom seemed to be watching him carefully for a response. "That so?"
"Yeah, it is." Dom seemed to gauge what he needed, and let his head drop back against the chair. "Yep."
"What was the dream about, then?" Billy said, a few hours later. He sat on a bench just off set, rubbing at his aching knees. They were still patterned with little dots where the kneepads had been in contact with the flesh for hours on end.
"It's a few dreams, actually."
"Been having them for a while?" Billy said, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah. I guess. We're just us, in them. We're Merry and Pippin. And we like blueberries."
Billy had to turn his head so Dom didn't see him redden. He remembered that dream; a picnic lunch in the middle of a field (not that field, another one) with a hunk of cheese and half a loaf of bread to share between them, and blueberries for dessert. He remembered squishing a blueberry into Merry's chest and then licking off - he remembered their clothes tossed off to the side and the sun warming him as he (Pippin) napped with his head on Merry's chest.
He remembered a hand stroking down his shoulder, his bicep, and the very faint flash of something cold and hard pressing into his skin - like a silver ring, like the one Dom wore on his thumb. And then he'd rolled over and Merry had kissed him, and there'd been no question of who, just Merry.
"You like blueberries, don't you, Bills?" Dom asked, and touched Billy's cheek, before walking away.
Billy found Dom are shooting was finished for the day, curled up in an easy chair in one of the spare trailers, reading his copy of The Two Towers. He sat on the arm of the chair, oddly pleased when Dom didn't give him a second glance, save the one when he'd first opened the door to the trailer.
"I do like blueberries," He said, softly. "And the bread and cheese isn't so bad, either."
Dom stiffened and then put his book on the arm of the chair unoccupied by Billy. "You too, then?"
"Yeah," Billy said. "It's a bit-"
"Intense..."
"Intense, yeah. It's intense, isn't it?" Billy said, shutting his eyes. Dom scooted over in the chair, and Billy let himself slide over into the space. They were squished tight together, but it was all right. Nice, actually. Dom smelled like smoke from Elijah's cloves (an occupational hazard, and that smoke fucking clung to you) and glue and sweat.
"Too intense sometimes, it's just like, like it takes you over, you know?" Dom's voice rose with excitement, cracked with relief. Billy could sympathise, even imagined that Dom was probably feeling the same bubble of hopejoydread swelling in his own chest. "I wake up, and it's like I'm not in my body, I'm not me. Like Merry's me, and then I have to remember who I am? And I thought at first that it was cool, it might, you know, get me in character, but it's not anymore, it's weird - like the Merry I am then is more Merry than I am when I'm supposed to be Merry, really."
Dom's eyes pleaded, isn't it like that for you, too?, but he had nothing to worry about - Billy was nodding before Dom was halfway finished, and he didn't stop his hand from creeping up to grab Dom's wrist.
"It goes beyond the movie."
"It goes beyond everything. And us - we-" Dom switched tracks rapidly. "How is that, how is it this? Is it really... are we having the same dreams?"
"Last night we stole a cabbage from-"
"From gaffer Gamgee, and we took it Sam to cook with dinner, and then we laughed ourselves silly, and we told Frodo what we did and he sighed and looked all exasperated, but he wanted to laugh. And Sam made it for dinner and we ate until we were stuffed, and then we-" Dom shut his mouth abruptly.
"And then we went to bed," Billy finished softly, and shook his head.
"Yeah." Dom said, and went silent again. It took Billy a few seconds to realise that Dom was staring at their hands - at Billy's hand, on his wrist. Billy jerked his hand away, flushing. "No," Dom said. "It's..." But he didn't finish, and Billy stood up.
"I'm glad to know," He said, softly though he didn't intend it like that. "That it's not just me."
"Scared as fuck, 's what I am," Dom said, face going fierce. "Shit like this isn't supposed to happen." But then he sighed, and looked up at Billy. "I'm glad too, though."
Billy's phone rang, twenty minutes earlier than usual. It jarred him from his dream, but that was all right. It was more than all right, it was a relief.
"I'm sorry," Dom said, on the other line. "I didn't mean to."
Billy's breath hitched. "You kissed her, right in front of me."
"I had to," Dom said, and his voice was thick, as if he were crying. Billy found himself sniffing as well. "My mum was right there, and yours too, and Diamond was looking right at me, and I couldn't..."
"You don't love her, do you, Merry?" Billy said, wiping at his eyes, turning over in bed. "You don't..." The glowing of the alarm clock assaulted his eyes. His mouth went dry. "Dom."
"I.... Billy," Dom said, and he sounded so very tired, and he was still hiccupping with sobs. "Billy. I don't love her."
"Okay. It's... okay." Billy said, Pippin soothed.
"It's okay?"
"It is. Go back to sleep." Billy said, and Pippin fought it. "Sleep."
There was no morning wake up call, because they both knew that they wouldn't go back to sleep. When Dom arrived to pick him up, they didn't saw a word about it, but Dom's eyes were red and bloodshot.
“I need a nap,” Dom said. His cheeks were smudged with dirt and his wig was slightly smushed on one side.
“Me too,” Billy murmured, and put his copy of the script down. The plan had been to read lines, but Dom didn’t seem too keen on it, and they already knew the scene, anyway. “Shove over,” Billy said, settling onto the space on the sofa that Dom left open. His head felt impossibly heavy, his eyelids like lead, his…. Something… like something.
He was too tired for metaphors.
“So let’s nap,” Dom said, eyes snapping open. He sat up, and resituated himself until he was laying lengthwise on the couch, his head on Billy’s lap. He looked up, tentative. “This okay?”
Billy felt something clench in his gut. Merry’s head on his lap, snoring softly. Merry…
Dom.
“Yeah,” He said, clearing his throat. He let his hand rest on Dom’s hair - wig. Yes, wig, because it felt nothing like Merry’s hair. Merry’s hair was real, and this wig, it was pretty good, but it was a wig.
He drew his hand away, realising suddenly that he’d been stroking Merry’s (Dom’s) hair. “Nnn,” Dom said, a low throaty noise. “Felt good.”
Billy let his eyes shut and his hand sink into warm curls. Not Merry’s, no, but Dom’s, and wasn’t it the same?
Maybe it wasn’t the same. Not the same after all, really.
Billy woke with a start from a short nap on a bed of leaves. Fangorn set; beads of sweat on his forehead, not from the sun but from the bright overhead lights. He was still sleepy. Was that all he ever did now, steal moments of peace in between takes?
He'd probably rested more in the past twenty minutes than in an entire night's dreaming twelve hours ago.
He stood on shaky legs and stretched. His back gave a satisfying pop, and he smacked his lips together, smiling before he remembered. “Where’s Dom?” He said, snagging the nearest crewmember by the elbow.
“Trailer,” was the jerky reply.
Billy headed for the trailer, picking leaves off of his Pippin vest. “Dom?” He knocked lightly, and then pushed the door open. There were faint snores, and he smiled. He shut the door behind him.
“Sleepy hobbit…” Billy laughed, and let himself lean back against the door. It was nearing time for supper; another late night on the set, but at least they’d be fed.
Dom was sprawled across the sofa, one leg flung over the back and the other hooked across the arm of it. He had a thumb securely between his teeth, though it didn’t seem childish. Just… Dommish. His wig flopped over his forehead, his vest and weskit all askew.
“Dom,” He said again, softly. Dom lifted one eye open - a monumental effort, Billy was sure - and then grunted. Billy scoffed. “Wake up.”
Dom shook his head, and flung one arm out, fingers curling in. “C’mere.”
”Food,” Billy said softly, protesting.
“Nap for a bit. Then we can eat.” Dom said, smiling. “Y’know you wanna.”
Billy shrugged, and shut his mouth. The sofa was warm, and Dom was-
Dom. He was just… Dom. No Merry at all, not even with the clothes. Not even a little bit. Billy shoved Dom over a bit and lay with his back to Dom’s front, warm and close.
A nap, then supper.
They went out drinking that night - not a bender, they kept it tame, and neither of them were quite up for the dance floor. They watched as Elijah dipped and swayed to what he seemed to think was the beat. Dom was sitting close to him, maybe closer than normally, but Billy couldn't really tell.
"I don't know what happened," Dom said, and Billy realised for the first time how utterly miserable he sounded. "I called you because..."
"Doesn't matter," Billy said, not to dismiss it, but because it ached too much to hear (his) Dom (Merry) hurting so. "Doesn't matter."
"I think it does, though," And that was more Dom than Merry, certainly, and it was Dom looking Billy straight in the eye.
Merry's eyes were blue, when Dom's were grey.
"Why?"
"Because me and Merry both love you."
"Pippin loves Merry, too," Billy said, his fingers tightening on the glass.
"That girl gave you her number earlier, and I didn't like it."
"I'm not going to call her," Billy said dumbly, unsure what his line should have been. Script, needed a fucking script for this, or at least Pippin to slip in and take over.
What would Pippin do if he saw Merry in eyeliner and black leather cuffs?
Probably come in his trousers, Billy thought, but didn't linger there.
"I don't want you to," Dom said, jaw set stubbornly. "Don't want you pulling anyone else."
"Pippin doesn't?"
"I don't."
"All right," Billy said. "I won't."
He blamed it on lack of sleep, and too much drink, though neither excuse would hold up.
"Just that easy?" Dom said, and laughed.
"Just that easy," Billy smiled.
"All right, then. All right." And Dom leaned forward and pressed a whiskey-kiss to his mouth.
Billy blinked in surprise. "What was that for?"
"For us." Dom said, and laughed again. "And for them."
Author: lavitanuova/dizzydame (one and the same)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Billy/Dom, vaguely Merry/Pippin
Notes: This was my slashy_letters fic, written for rubynye. A special thanks to maverick0324 for her wonderful suggestions, many of which I blatantly stole. ;)
Cross-posted to lavitanuova, slashy_letters, and monaboyd.
Billy was almost afraid to close his eyes.
His room was dark, the faint moonlight even blocked by thick, heavy drapes over his windows. His fingers clutched and kneaded at the duvet restlessly. He wasn't afraid; there was no fear in what sleep would bring, only a curious unrest. He'd been having the dreams for over a month now, and he still had yet to tell anyone.
They always started the same... black all around him, the feel of damp grass between his toes. And then he'd open his eyes, and he'd be standing there, in a field. A large field, with tall stalks of corn just off to one side.
The dreams are very vivid. More vivid than any dream Billy had ever had, more vivid than he'd ever imagined any dream could be.
They started out with bright skies. And the smell of apples in the air. And a warm voice beside him, calling his name. "Pippin, come see this," It would say. Or, "Pippin, give it over, that apple was mine!" And Billy would suddenly realise that, yes, there was an apple in his hand, and a fresh bite in his mouth. And he'd chew around it and give a cheeky grin and toss Dom the apple.
Except, it wasn't Dom, was it? It wasn't. Couldn't be, it was Merry. Merry, in his dream. With buttery soft curls that were real when he threaded his fingers through them. Merry, living and breathing, mouth pressed firmly to his. To Pippin's.
Billy shivered, and pressed his face into the pillow. It was a losing battle, trying to not sleep when it was the one thing his body craved, but he still found himself attempting it. The dreams were - they just were, every night, there was no end to it. Billy was Pippin was Billy was Pippin was Billy. And Dom was Merry, and that started a whole 'nother round of tossing and turning, with the very idea of it.
Dom was a bloke that Billy'd made fast friends with. Dom was a mate, a fucking ace mate, but a mate that liked to snog girls on the dance floor and take them home at night sometimes. Billy knew this. He knew it, because Dom was also quite fond of the bragging.
Billy also liked those sorts of things too. That leggy blonde, just last week, she'd been a great lay. And he and Dom had laughed over it, hadn't they? About how there must be something in the water, how the New Zealand birds liked it wild in bed. How they couldn't resist the charm of Monaghan and Boyd.
And then Billy'd hung up the phone and fallen asleep, and dreamed about Merry turning him (Pippin) over in the grass and giving it to him nice and proper, up the arse.
Billy hadn't been able to look Dom in the eye for a whole day after that one.
But it was even more than that. It was more than Merry and Pippin shagging; it was the feelings, too. The feelings were almost more than he could handle.
Pippin loved Merry.
Pippin loved Merry.
Pippin (Billy) always wanted to be around Merry. If Merry wasn't in the field, when the dreams began, he'd inevitable find himself yearning, feeling a bit lost. And his feet would take him toward the Hall or the Smials or Bag End (the field seemed to have the ability to relocate itself) and he'd open his mouth and Merry's name would come out, a shout and a question and a plea all at once. And he'd find Merry, and he'd throw himself in Merry's arms, and bury his face in Merry's neck and breathe in warm, dark smelling tobacco and sweet plums. And Merry would hold him so nice and tight, and it'd be the best thing that Pippin (Billy) had ever felt.
And he'd look at Merry, and he'd see Dom, and something in him (Pippin) would get a bit confused at that. And he'd say, "Kiss me, Merry, quick," And Merry would laugh - or shush him, depending on where they were and who was about - and usually take him off and snog him good.
And Billy would wake up, and he'd feel like crying because he'd miss Merry so much, and he'd want Merry just there, beside him. And then Dom would ring (his daily pre-dawn wake up call) and the feeling would intensify, so hard it'd leave him gasping.
But he was an actor, and he would cover it up, and by the time Dom rang his doorbell, he'd be just fine.
"So, I had this dream," Dom said, sliding into his chair beside Billy.
"Yeah?" Billy leaned back, his jaw dropping a bit as the wig girl rubbed glue onto a particularly sensitive spot.
Dom poked him in the side. "Pay attention, this is important."
"Yeah?" Billy shifted his head to the side, and lifted an eyebrow. "Not the dream about Sir Ian again, I hope? You should have professional help for that one, I'm afraid I'm of no use."
"Wanker," Dom snickered. "No, a different one. In it, I'm Merry and you're Pippin."
Dom seemed to be watching him carefully for a response. "That so?"
"Yeah, it is." Dom seemed to gauge what he needed, and let his head drop back against the chair. "Yep."
"What was the dream about, then?" Billy said, a few hours later. He sat on a bench just off set, rubbing at his aching knees. They were still patterned with little dots where the kneepads had been in contact with the flesh for hours on end.
"It's a few dreams, actually."
"Been having them for a while?" Billy said, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah. I guess. We're just us, in them. We're Merry and Pippin. And we like blueberries."
Billy had to turn his head so Dom didn't see him redden. He remembered that dream; a picnic lunch in the middle of a field (not that field, another one) with a hunk of cheese and half a loaf of bread to share between them, and blueberries for dessert. He remembered squishing a blueberry into Merry's chest and then licking off - he remembered their clothes tossed off to the side and the sun warming him as he (Pippin) napped with his head on Merry's chest.
He remembered a hand stroking down his shoulder, his bicep, and the very faint flash of something cold and hard pressing into his skin - like a silver ring, like the one Dom wore on his thumb. And then he'd rolled over and Merry had kissed him, and there'd been no question of who, just Merry.
"You like blueberries, don't you, Bills?" Dom asked, and touched Billy's cheek, before walking away.
Billy found Dom are shooting was finished for the day, curled up in an easy chair in one of the spare trailers, reading his copy of The Two Towers. He sat on the arm of the chair, oddly pleased when Dom didn't give him a second glance, save the one when he'd first opened the door to the trailer.
"I do like blueberries," He said, softly. "And the bread and cheese isn't so bad, either."
Dom stiffened and then put his book on the arm of the chair unoccupied by Billy. "You too, then?"
"Yeah," Billy said. "It's a bit-"
"Intense..."
"Intense, yeah. It's intense, isn't it?" Billy said, shutting his eyes. Dom scooted over in the chair, and Billy let himself slide over into the space. They were squished tight together, but it was all right. Nice, actually. Dom smelled like smoke from Elijah's cloves (an occupational hazard, and that smoke fucking clung to you) and glue and sweat.
"Too intense sometimes, it's just like, like it takes you over, you know?" Dom's voice rose with excitement, cracked with relief. Billy could sympathise, even imagined that Dom was probably feeling the same bubble of hopejoydread swelling in his own chest. "I wake up, and it's like I'm not in my body, I'm not me. Like Merry's me, and then I have to remember who I am? And I thought at first that it was cool, it might, you know, get me in character, but it's not anymore, it's weird - like the Merry I am then is more Merry than I am when I'm supposed to be Merry, really."
Dom's eyes pleaded, isn't it like that for you, too?, but he had nothing to worry about - Billy was nodding before Dom was halfway finished, and he didn't stop his hand from creeping up to grab Dom's wrist.
"It goes beyond the movie."
"It goes beyond everything. And us - we-" Dom switched tracks rapidly. "How is that, how is it this? Is it really... are we having the same dreams?"
"Last night we stole a cabbage from-"
"From gaffer Gamgee, and we took it Sam to cook with dinner, and then we laughed ourselves silly, and we told Frodo what we did and he sighed and looked all exasperated, but he wanted to laugh. And Sam made it for dinner and we ate until we were stuffed, and then we-" Dom shut his mouth abruptly.
"And then we went to bed," Billy finished softly, and shook his head.
"Yeah." Dom said, and went silent again. It took Billy a few seconds to realise that Dom was staring at their hands - at Billy's hand, on his wrist. Billy jerked his hand away, flushing. "No," Dom said. "It's..." But he didn't finish, and Billy stood up.
"I'm glad to know," He said, softly though he didn't intend it like that. "That it's not just me."
"Scared as fuck, 's what I am," Dom said, face going fierce. "Shit like this isn't supposed to happen." But then he sighed, and looked up at Billy. "I'm glad too, though."
Billy's phone rang, twenty minutes earlier than usual. It jarred him from his dream, but that was all right. It was more than all right, it was a relief.
"I'm sorry," Dom said, on the other line. "I didn't mean to."
Billy's breath hitched. "You kissed her, right in front of me."
"I had to," Dom said, and his voice was thick, as if he were crying. Billy found himself sniffing as well. "My mum was right there, and yours too, and Diamond was looking right at me, and I couldn't..."
"You don't love her, do you, Merry?" Billy said, wiping at his eyes, turning over in bed. "You don't..." The glowing of the alarm clock assaulted his eyes. His mouth went dry. "Dom."
"I.... Billy," Dom said, and he sounded so very tired, and he was still hiccupping with sobs. "Billy. I don't love her."
"Okay. It's... okay." Billy said, Pippin soothed.
"It's okay?"
"It is. Go back to sleep." Billy said, and Pippin fought it. "Sleep."
There was no morning wake up call, because they both knew that they wouldn't go back to sleep. When Dom arrived to pick him up, they didn't saw a word about it, but Dom's eyes were red and bloodshot.
“I need a nap,” Dom said. His cheeks were smudged with dirt and his wig was slightly smushed on one side.
“Me too,” Billy murmured, and put his copy of the script down. The plan had been to read lines, but Dom didn’t seem too keen on it, and they already knew the scene, anyway. “Shove over,” Billy said, settling onto the space on the sofa that Dom left open. His head felt impossibly heavy, his eyelids like lead, his…. Something… like something.
He was too tired for metaphors.
“So let’s nap,” Dom said, eyes snapping open. He sat up, and resituated himself until he was laying lengthwise on the couch, his head on Billy’s lap. He looked up, tentative. “This okay?”
Billy felt something clench in his gut. Merry’s head on his lap, snoring softly. Merry…
Dom.
“Yeah,” He said, clearing his throat. He let his hand rest on Dom’s hair - wig. Yes, wig, because it felt nothing like Merry’s hair. Merry’s hair was real, and this wig, it was pretty good, but it was a wig.
He drew his hand away, realising suddenly that he’d been stroking Merry’s (Dom’s) hair. “Nnn,” Dom said, a low throaty noise. “Felt good.”
Billy let his eyes shut and his hand sink into warm curls. Not Merry’s, no, but Dom’s, and wasn’t it the same?
Maybe it wasn’t the same. Not the same after all, really.
Billy woke with a start from a short nap on a bed of leaves. Fangorn set; beads of sweat on his forehead, not from the sun but from the bright overhead lights. He was still sleepy. Was that all he ever did now, steal moments of peace in between takes?
He'd probably rested more in the past twenty minutes than in an entire night's dreaming twelve hours ago.
He stood on shaky legs and stretched. His back gave a satisfying pop, and he smacked his lips together, smiling before he remembered. “Where’s Dom?” He said, snagging the nearest crewmember by the elbow.
“Trailer,” was the jerky reply.
Billy headed for the trailer, picking leaves off of his Pippin vest. “Dom?” He knocked lightly, and then pushed the door open. There were faint snores, and he smiled. He shut the door behind him.
“Sleepy hobbit…” Billy laughed, and let himself lean back against the door. It was nearing time for supper; another late night on the set, but at least they’d be fed.
Dom was sprawled across the sofa, one leg flung over the back and the other hooked across the arm of it. He had a thumb securely between his teeth, though it didn’t seem childish. Just… Dommish. His wig flopped over his forehead, his vest and weskit all askew.
“Dom,” He said again, softly. Dom lifted one eye open - a monumental effort, Billy was sure - and then grunted. Billy scoffed. “Wake up.”
Dom shook his head, and flung one arm out, fingers curling in. “C’mere.”
”Food,” Billy said softly, protesting.
“Nap for a bit. Then we can eat.” Dom said, smiling. “Y’know you wanna.”
Billy shrugged, and shut his mouth. The sofa was warm, and Dom was-
Dom. He was just… Dom. No Merry at all, not even with the clothes. Not even a little bit. Billy shoved Dom over a bit and lay with his back to Dom’s front, warm and close.
A nap, then supper.
They went out drinking that night - not a bender, they kept it tame, and neither of them were quite up for the dance floor. They watched as Elijah dipped and swayed to what he seemed to think was the beat. Dom was sitting close to him, maybe closer than normally, but Billy couldn't really tell.
"I don't know what happened," Dom said, and Billy realised for the first time how utterly miserable he sounded. "I called you because..."
"Doesn't matter," Billy said, not to dismiss it, but because it ached too much to hear (his) Dom (Merry) hurting so. "Doesn't matter."
"I think it does, though," And that was more Dom than Merry, certainly, and it was Dom looking Billy straight in the eye.
Merry's eyes were blue, when Dom's were grey.
"Why?"
"Because me and Merry both love you."
"Pippin loves Merry, too," Billy said, his fingers tightening on the glass.
"That girl gave you her number earlier, and I didn't like it."
"I'm not going to call her," Billy said dumbly, unsure what his line should have been. Script, needed a fucking script for this, or at least Pippin to slip in and take over.
What would Pippin do if he saw Merry in eyeliner and black leather cuffs?
Probably come in his trousers, Billy thought, but didn't linger there.
"I don't want you to," Dom said, jaw set stubbornly. "Don't want you pulling anyone else."
"Pippin doesn't?"
"I don't."
"All right," Billy said. "I won't."
He blamed it on lack of sleep, and too much drink, though neither excuse would hold up.
"Just that easy?" Dom said, and laughed.
"Just that easy," Billy smiled.
"All right, then. All right." And Dom leaned forward and pressed a whiskey-kiss to his mouth.
Billy blinked in surprise. "What was that for?"
"For us." Dom said, and laughed again. "And for them."