Back of the Bottom Drawer.
Title: Back of the Bottom Drawer
Author: Emilie
Pairing: DM/EW/BB … eventually.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don’t know ‘em, don’t own ‘em. Don’t sue. I got nothing but student loans, and if you want those I’ll give them willingly. No need to bring in lawyers or anything.
Feedback: is better than chocolate. Okay, maybe not. But I still like it.
Author’s note: This is for Brooke. Mostly because she’s my sanity, but also because she’s the best thing to come out of Kentucky since…well, has anything good ever come from Kentucky? Kidding. No offense meant. Also, this is based strongly on the Chely Wright song by the same name.
____________________________________________________________________
She knew she shouldn’t be snooping; her employer paid her to clean the house and do the laundry, not to poke around in boxes found at the back of the bottom drawer in the dresser by the bed. But, it wasn’t like she was actively looking to snoop this time. This time she’d simply been trying to figure out what was blocking her ability to shove a stack of shirts into a drawer. It wasn’t really her fault that she’d found the box. It was her fault, however, that she’d pulled it out, a small frown creasing her brow as she tried to imagine why someone would hide a box like this in a drawer.
It was made of dark-stained wood, with intricate designs carved deep, and with love, into the surface of the lid. There were words there, too; words she couldn’t read, engraved in some foreign language she couldn’t even begin to place. She wondered what they meant as she turned the box one way, and then another, trying to take in all of it. She felt the contents shift, heard something roll unevenly across the interior, and her stomach tightened. It was obvious, she concluded after a moment of running her fingers over the deep grooves, that the weight inside was that of secrets, meant to stay hidden from anyone’s eyes. But, what if her looking at the contents would prevent harm? She placed the box on the smooth wood floor in front of her, sat back on her heels and sighed.
She knew she shouldn’t look, that trouble was sure to follow if she did. That was her luck, lately - trouble and more trouble, caused mostly by her own insatiable nosiness. But, the faint scent of spice was enticing her to peek, and it was hard to say no to such a strong, masculine scent. She quickly added men to her mental list of downfalls as she stared through narrowed eyes at the box. It would be nice if it would just open on its own.
Curiosity had never been a friend to her, getting her into more trouble in her almost thirty years than most people saw in a lifetime, but she still hadn’t learned how to just walk away. It had been a blessing that one time, when she’d found a box of drugs and a couple of guns in the last house she’d been sent to clean. She’d high-tailed it out of there and told the agency she’d been working for to send someone else. She'd found out two days later that the guy had been arrested for the murder of his wife. That the new housekeeper had found the body hadn’t escaped her notice, and she shuddered at the thought that it could have been her.
On the other hand, it had been a curse that time she’d been looking through the contents of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom of a house that belonged to some member of some boyband. She really just wanted some aspirin for a pounding headache, but she’d gotten much more when the singer’s girlfriend had come home and hadn’t been alone. She hadn't been with her boyfriend either, but that wasn't the point. Getting trapped in the bathroom while listening to some blonde pop-tart moan and groan and get good and properly fucked had not been part of her contract. Being found sitting on the toilet, leafing through a magazine while waiting for it to be over hadn’t been part of the deal either, and she’d gotten an earful from her boss the next day.
“Oh, fuck it,” she muttered, hands going to the box. It wasn’t going to open on its own, and she was just delaying the inevitable by staring at it. Without one last sigh, she pulled the lid up until it rested on hinges made of a pale green satin ribbon. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the lining, and her fingers lightly caressed the softest velvet she’d ever felt, colored the deepest blue she’d ever seen.
It was the note on the top of the box’s contents that drew her fingers from the lining, and she picked it up and opened it, narrowing her eyes as she read the words written in block letters that didn’t belong to the owner of the house. She knew his writing; he was the one that signed her rather impressive paychecks week after week. But he could afford it, she supposed, being an actor that had played a hobbit in that fantasy trilogy that had been so popular these past few years. She thought of his kindness, and how he never treated her as anything other than an equal when he spoke words that tripped and fell into her ears with the rise and fall of his Scottish accent, and it was almost enough to make her put the cover back on the box.
Almost, until she saw some of the words and her curiosity was piqued once more.
This is my box of odds and ends, one no one knows about. I do not keep it from Bills or Lij to hurt them, but because these are pieces of my past that I shouldn’t have to share.
She knew who the writer was now, the mention of Billy and Elijah made that obvious. Dominic was so full of life, though, and this letter seemed too serious for him to have written it. She didn’t like the thought of him keeping secrets from his housemates; secrets weren’t always healthy.
He went on to list the contents of the box, and she placed the letter aside as she looked for the first item.
1. A napkin with a poem from Gordon that didn’t rhyme very well, but made me cry because I am, despite my protestations to the contrary, a big girl’s blouse.
Gordon? Who was Gordon? She wondered as she studied the time-stained napkin. The words had faded, though they were still legible.
A lad named Dom that stole my heart,
I hope we’ll never be apart.
He gets a look when we make love
And I hope our days are never done.
It was a really bad poem, she thought as she placed the napkin on the floor. But she supposed she would have probably shed a few tears, too, if a man she loved had given that to her.
2. The letter Michael left for me when he moved out of the flat we’d made a home, wherein he tells me that I’m not always right, even though I am.
There was that British cheek that she’d come to like so much in the months she’d been working for them. She found the letter and scanned the words, scoffing at the stupidity of the writer. How could anyone leave Dominic? Especially with a poorly written Dear John letter?
3. A key I stole from the bed and breakfast in New Zealand, where Billy, Elijah and I finally argued out what it was we’d been skirting around for months. They were the most intense fights I’d ever had with mates, and I was physically and emotionally drained when we were done throwing objects and insults at each other. But I woke the next morning with ‘Lij curled around me from behind and Bills curled around me from the front, and their hands were clasped as they rested on my hip. That made everything worth it.
Oh, that’s sweet, she thought as she studied the key in the center of her palm. That three friends can share a bed with no thoughts of what it would - oh! She blushed as she realized what Dominic had actually meant, and the mental image of them curled around each other, completely naked, popped into her head easily. She felt her blush deepen. Well, that would explain why the other two rooms in the house never needed more than a quick dusting. It also explained why she’d been instructed to put their clothes away in one room, and why one small man would need a bed so large. Sometimes, she was really blind.
4. A birthday card from my first boyfriend. I was still trying to figure out which way I swung, but he signed it ‘I love you,” so I gave in. Couldn’t walk for a couple of days, and sitting down wasn’t fun either. In hindsight, we went too far, too fast, but I don’t regret it. It kind of made my preferences clear.
Oh, Dominic. She stared at the clown and balloons on the front of the faded card. She opened it and read the greeting - Happy 16th birthday - and sighed. Good to know that boys were just as easily fooled by ‘I love you’ when they’re young.
5. Mardi Gras beads. We danced all night, and stayed out late. I thought I was a star then, singing with a rock band, making a fool of myself. Elijah really was a star, though, and we closed down the bar that night, drinking cheap champagne to celebrate our success. I toasted my luck at finding the kind of love I have with him, and with Billy, and that’s why I kept the cork.
That would be what rolled around the bottom, and she ran a finger over it. Closing her eyes, she imagined she could hear the cheers and screams from the crowds, could feel the weight of Dominic’s love for Elijah and Billy.
There were no more items in the box, though she suspected that Dominic would add more as time went on. She replaced the items before her eyes returned to the note.
I’m not trying to hide these things from the men I love today. But, I know that I’m a better man for them because of things I went through in my past. They serve only as reminders, now, and even the painful memories don’t have the same ache of hurt. And I pull them out now and again to remind me of how far I have come.
I don’t keep these things because I want to go back in time. I keep them because I want so badly to stay right where I am. To remind myself of what I have done wrong, what I have done right, and the endless possibilities of the future. I don’t want to mess this up, but it would be impossible to believe that this is where I belong without the memories in this box.
So, I try now to give more than I take. Try to bite my tongue when I want to say that it’s my way or no way. I keep these items to remind me of how much I cherish the love I receive, so unconditionally, from my Bills and my ‘Lij.
And this note is to serve as a further prompt, when just looking at memories isn’t enough to remind me of what I have now.
That was all he'd written, and she swiped at a rogue tear that traced a path down her cheek. Why couldn’t she find love like that? She placed the note back on the top of the box and ran one finger over the soft, blue velvet that was so much like Elijah’s eyes, and the satin green ribbon, so much like Billy’s.
She was closing the lid when noticed a small bit of paper peeking through a small tear in the lining, and she pulled it out. Written on it, in messy scrawl she didn’t recognize, were the same characters that were carved in the lid, and a translation that read: Great love cares not what the world will think. Live without fear. It was signed Viggo, and she smiled as she tucked it back into the fabric, thankful that the three of them had friends that did not judge.
She tucked the shirts into the drawer after replacing the box, and was rising to her feet when she heard the front door open, and the rise and fall of three very different voices traveling through the house. It was past time for her to be gone, she noted after looking at the clock, and she hurried down the stairs to grab her purse and jacket from where they hung by the back door.
“Goodnight gentlemen,” she said, poking her head into the den just off the kitchen.
The three men looked up from where they had collapsed one of the overstuffed sofas, legs tangled together, and she smiled at them as they bid her goodbye. And as she was leaving, she threw one last look at the trio and watched as Dominic shifted so that his head could rest comfortably on Billy’s chest; watched as Elijah, on Billy’s other side, waited until Dominic was settled before he shifted to place his head on Billy’s lap. And she watched as Billy placed a soft kiss on the top of Dominic’s head, and as Dominic placed his lips as gently on Elijah’s forehead.
And when Billy had placed one hand on Elijah’s hip and one arm around Dominic’s shoulder, when Dominic and Elijah had joined hands and completed their circle, she smiled again and slipped out the back door.
End
Author: Emilie
Pairing: DM/EW/BB … eventually.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don’t know ‘em, don’t own ‘em. Don’t sue. I got nothing but student loans, and if you want those I’ll give them willingly. No need to bring in lawyers or anything.
Feedback: is better than chocolate. Okay, maybe not. But I still like it.
Author’s note: This is for Brooke. Mostly because she’s my sanity, but also because she’s the best thing to come out of Kentucky since…well, has anything good ever come from Kentucky? Kidding. No offense meant. Also, this is based strongly on the Chely Wright song by the same name.
____________________________________________________________________
She knew she shouldn’t be snooping; her employer paid her to clean the house and do the laundry, not to poke around in boxes found at the back of the bottom drawer in the dresser by the bed. But, it wasn’t like she was actively looking to snoop this time. This time she’d simply been trying to figure out what was blocking her ability to shove a stack of shirts into a drawer. It wasn’t really her fault that she’d found the box. It was her fault, however, that she’d pulled it out, a small frown creasing her brow as she tried to imagine why someone would hide a box like this in a drawer.
It was made of dark-stained wood, with intricate designs carved deep, and with love, into the surface of the lid. There were words there, too; words she couldn’t read, engraved in some foreign language she couldn’t even begin to place. She wondered what they meant as she turned the box one way, and then another, trying to take in all of it. She felt the contents shift, heard something roll unevenly across the interior, and her stomach tightened. It was obvious, she concluded after a moment of running her fingers over the deep grooves, that the weight inside was that of secrets, meant to stay hidden from anyone’s eyes. But, what if her looking at the contents would prevent harm? She placed the box on the smooth wood floor in front of her, sat back on her heels and sighed.
She knew she shouldn’t look, that trouble was sure to follow if she did. That was her luck, lately - trouble and more trouble, caused mostly by her own insatiable nosiness. But, the faint scent of spice was enticing her to peek, and it was hard to say no to such a strong, masculine scent. She quickly added men to her mental list of downfalls as she stared through narrowed eyes at the box. It would be nice if it would just open on its own.
Curiosity had never been a friend to her, getting her into more trouble in her almost thirty years than most people saw in a lifetime, but she still hadn’t learned how to just walk away. It had been a blessing that one time, when she’d found a box of drugs and a couple of guns in the last house she’d been sent to clean. She’d high-tailed it out of there and told the agency she’d been working for to send someone else. She'd found out two days later that the guy had been arrested for the murder of his wife. That the new housekeeper had found the body hadn’t escaped her notice, and she shuddered at the thought that it could have been her.
On the other hand, it had been a curse that time she’d been looking through the contents of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom of a house that belonged to some member of some boyband. She really just wanted some aspirin for a pounding headache, but she’d gotten much more when the singer’s girlfriend had come home and hadn’t been alone. She hadn't been with her boyfriend either, but that wasn't the point. Getting trapped in the bathroom while listening to some blonde pop-tart moan and groan and get good and properly fucked had not been part of her contract. Being found sitting on the toilet, leafing through a magazine while waiting for it to be over hadn’t been part of the deal either, and she’d gotten an earful from her boss the next day.
“Oh, fuck it,” she muttered, hands going to the box. It wasn’t going to open on its own, and she was just delaying the inevitable by staring at it. Without one last sigh, she pulled the lid up until it rested on hinges made of a pale green satin ribbon. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the lining, and her fingers lightly caressed the softest velvet she’d ever felt, colored the deepest blue she’d ever seen.
It was the note on the top of the box’s contents that drew her fingers from the lining, and she picked it up and opened it, narrowing her eyes as she read the words written in block letters that didn’t belong to the owner of the house. She knew his writing; he was the one that signed her rather impressive paychecks week after week. But he could afford it, she supposed, being an actor that had played a hobbit in that fantasy trilogy that had been so popular these past few years. She thought of his kindness, and how he never treated her as anything other than an equal when he spoke words that tripped and fell into her ears with the rise and fall of his Scottish accent, and it was almost enough to make her put the cover back on the box.
Almost, until she saw some of the words and her curiosity was piqued once more.
This is my box of odds and ends, one no one knows about. I do not keep it from Bills or Lij to hurt them, but because these are pieces of my past that I shouldn’t have to share.
She knew who the writer was now, the mention of Billy and Elijah made that obvious. Dominic was so full of life, though, and this letter seemed too serious for him to have written it. She didn’t like the thought of him keeping secrets from his housemates; secrets weren’t always healthy.
He went on to list the contents of the box, and she placed the letter aside as she looked for the first item.
1. A napkin with a poem from Gordon that didn’t rhyme very well, but made me cry because I am, despite my protestations to the contrary, a big girl’s blouse.
Gordon? Who was Gordon? She wondered as she studied the time-stained napkin. The words had faded, though they were still legible.
A lad named Dom that stole my heart,
I hope we’ll never be apart.
He gets a look when we make love
And I hope our days are never done.
It was a really bad poem, she thought as she placed the napkin on the floor. But she supposed she would have probably shed a few tears, too, if a man she loved had given that to her.
2. The letter Michael left for me when he moved out of the flat we’d made a home, wherein he tells me that I’m not always right, even though I am.
There was that British cheek that she’d come to like so much in the months she’d been working for them. She found the letter and scanned the words, scoffing at the stupidity of the writer. How could anyone leave Dominic? Especially with a poorly written Dear John letter?
3. A key I stole from the bed and breakfast in New Zealand, where Billy, Elijah and I finally argued out what it was we’d been skirting around for months. They were the most intense fights I’d ever had with mates, and I was physically and emotionally drained when we were done throwing objects and insults at each other. But I woke the next morning with ‘Lij curled around me from behind and Bills curled around me from the front, and their hands were clasped as they rested on my hip. That made everything worth it.
Oh, that’s sweet, she thought as she studied the key in the center of her palm. That three friends can share a bed with no thoughts of what it would - oh! She blushed as she realized what Dominic had actually meant, and the mental image of them curled around each other, completely naked, popped into her head easily. She felt her blush deepen. Well, that would explain why the other two rooms in the house never needed more than a quick dusting. It also explained why she’d been instructed to put their clothes away in one room, and why one small man would need a bed so large. Sometimes, she was really blind.
4. A birthday card from my first boyfriend. I was still trying to figure out which way I swung, but he signed it ‘I love you,” so I gave in. Couldn’t walk for a couple of days, and sitting down wasn’t fun either. In hindsight, we went too far, too fast, but I don’t regret it. It kind of made my preferences clear.
Oh, Dominic. She stared at the clown and balloons on the front of the faded card. She opened it and read the greeting - Happy 16th birthday - and sighed. Good to know that boys were just as easily fooled by ‘I love you’ when they’re young.
5. Mardi Gras beads. We danced all night, and stayed out late. I thought I was a star then, singing with a rock band, making a fool of myself. Elijah really was a star, though, and we closed down the bar that night, drinking cheap champagne to celebrate our success. I toasted my luck at finding the kind of love I have with him, and with Billy, and that’s why I kept the cork.
That would be what rolled around the bottom, and she ran a finger over it. Closing her eyes, she imagined she could hear the cheers and screams from the crowds, could feel the weight of Dominic’s love for Elijah and Billy.
There were no more items in the box, though she suspected that Dominic would add more as time went on. She replaced the items before her eyes returned to the note.
I’m not trying to hide these things from the men I love today. But, I know that I’m a better man for them because of things I went through in my past. They serve only as reminders, now, and even the painful memories don’t have the same ache of hurt. And I pull them out now and again to remind me of how far I have come.
I don’t keep these things because I want to go back in time. I keep them because I want so badly to stay right where I am. To remind myself of what I have done wrong, what I have done right, and the endless possibilities of the future. I don’t want to mess this up, but it would be impossible to believe that this is where I belong without the memories in this box.
So, I try now to give more than I take. Try to bite my tongue when I want to say that it’s my way or no way. I keep these items to remind me of how much I cherish the love I receive, so unconditionally, from my Bills and my ‘Lij.
And this note is to serve as a further prompt, when just looking at memories isn’t enough to remind me of what I have now.
That was all he'd written, and she swiped at a rogue tear that traced a path down her cheek. Why couldn’t she find love like that? She placed the note back on the top of the box and ran one finger over the soft, blue velvet that was so much like Elijah’s eyes, and the satin green ribbon, so much like Billy’s.
She was closing the lid when noticed a small bit of paper peeking through a small tear in the lining, and she pulled it out. Written on it, in messy scrawl she didn’t recognize, were the same characters that were carved in the lid, and a translation that read: Great love cares not what the world will think. Live without fear. It was signed Viggo, and she smiled as she tucked it back into the fabric, thankful that the three of them had friends that did not judge.
She tucked the shirts into the drawer after replacing the box, and was rising to her feet when she heard the front door open, and the rise and fall of three very different voices traveling through the house. It was past time for her to be gone, she noted after looking at the clock, and she hurried down the stairs to grab her purse and jacket from where they hung by the back door.
“Goodnight gentlemen,” she said, poking her head into the den just off the kitchen.
The three men looked up from where they had collapsed one of the overstuffed sofas, legs tangled together, and she smiled at them as they bid her goodbye. And as she was leaving, she threw one last look at the trio and watched as Dominic shifted so that his head could rest comfortably on Billy’s chest; watched as Elijah, on Billy’s other side, waited until Dominic was settled before he shifted to place his head on Billy’s lap. And she watched as Billy placed a soft kiss on the top of Dominic’s head, and as Dominic placed his lips as gently on Elijah’s forehead.
And when Billy had placed one hand on Elijah’s hip and one arm around Dominic’s shoulder, when Dominic and Elijah had joined hands and completed their circle, she smiled again and slipped out the back door.
End