Driving Ambition
Title: Driving Ambition
Author: valerienne
Fandom: Lotrips
Rating: G
Pairing: Dom/Evi, Dom/Billy
Word Count: 1483
Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. They belong, as ever, to themselves.
Notes: In which Nickey takes a metaphor and stretches it out of all recognition… :)
Some things you shouldn't get too good at,
Like smiling, crying and celebrity.
Some people got way too much confidence, baby.
Dom watches Evi when she drives. When she can’t see him, when she has to keep an eye on the road. Her eyes are so pale they almost disappear in the glare from the asphalt, a fine pale hazel, like warm champagne. Except that you should never serve champagne warm - it tastes metallic and bitter.
He likes watching her when she drives because he doesn’t want to watch the road. She’d called him a back-seat driver once and he’d said ‘yeah - being driven everywhere in limo’s does that to you’ and she’d laughed. He’d grinned and stuck his long rock-star tongue out at her, but she hadn’t seen that because her eyes had still been on the road.
He loves her so much. It’s a weird thing. He’d been expecting that, but not that she’d love him back. That is a constant surprise. He keeps expecting her to wake up and smell the coffee. Look around her and see all the beautiful people they’re surrounded by every day. So when she does look, he’s always on. He clowns, and he jokes, and he acts up for the camera. She always laughs. It’s why he likes it when she drives, despite everything. He doesn’t have to remember all his lines then. He can watch her. He can memorize the fine line of her nose. The way her hair curves in tendrils around her face. He can just love her.
She’s a terrible driver. Dom has made jokes in interviews about Evi’s driving, but it’s true. He laughed until his stomach hurt when he saw her reverse into the set on Ellen, but only because he doesn’t have to pretend it’s all right anymore. He still does though. It’s just another thing about Evi he adores. Although why he finds it cute - taking his life in his hands every time she drives them anywhere, well, that’s a mystery to him. He doesn’t think about the hand he leaves lying quietly on her thigh as he watches her. He doesn’t think about the warmth that soaks in, about the feel of the fabric under his palm; jeans maybe, or a thin cotton dress, or occasionally, smooth skin.
Evi knows she’s bad at driving. It’s another reason why Dom doesn’t tease her about it too often. She’s very self-deprecating about it, but her eyes gleam with pleasure when Dom asks her to drive. He likes that. It also means she concentrates when she’s driving him, honouring the trust he places in her, even though everyone on set knows what she’s like. Josh once refused to get into the car with her, throwing up his hands in a mock-comic way and backing off going ‘woah’, like she’s a horse or something. Like she’s a skittish wild animal. Evi had smiled, but it hadn’t reached her eyes. Her pale eyes, reflecting back everything. Dom had said nothing, but he knows you don’t treat a wild animal with such casual abandon. Animals need patience, and attention. They need understanding.
When Evi drives, she stares into the distance. Dom doesn’t like to look that far ahead. He doesn’t want to squint into the light reflecting off the road. He’s afraid he might see the car crash in the making and communicate that to Evi somehow. Maybe his hand would tighten where it lies against her skin, or he’d make a noise, forgetting his place in the scheme of things, while in her car. He loves her too much to want to look ahead. So he doesn’t. He only looks at her.
They’re driving today into central LA. They’re going shopping - Rodeo Drive, most likely. He knows Evi’s excited. Hell, he’s excited too. He has the butterflies in his stomach that tell him they’re at the beginning of something really special. Incongruously, he wishes that Billy was there. Incongruously, because it’s just not the done thing to take your best friend with you when you go to look at rings. It’s not done, and there are people who might look at him askance if they knew he’d had those thoughts. But then, many of his thoughts might be considered to be worth a second glance, or even a first. He loves Evi, but he misses Billy.
When Billy drives Dom can relax. He can stare out of the windows, or sing along to whatever CD Billy might have let him put into the player. He can chatter about anything and know that Billy will pick up on his thought, even before he knows what that thought is. He can lean and stretch, or scratch at his arse, or anything else that takes his fancy. And Billy will call him an eejit, or glance away from the road to smile at him fondly, which will make Dom say ‘look where you’re going, you twat’ or something equally endearing. Then Billy will look back, but reluctantly, and Dom will feel warm, knowing that the expanse of open road is not as important to Billy as Dom is.
Billy doesn’t always need to keep his eye on the road, after all. Dom’s talked about this with him. Billy says it’s much more important to feel comfortable, rather than be concentrating all the time. He says that’s why when he visits he usually lets Dom drive. He knows it’s more important to Dom than to Billy, and anyway Billy feels much happier when he’s closer to home. Where he knows the roads intimately, with all their little dips and bends and roadworks. Dom knows this, but because he knows this, he always feels better when he can persuade Billy to drive. It means more somehow.
Dom finds his head is nodding now, his mouth falling gently open, the curve of Evi’s neck under his sleepy eye mixing in his memory with the curve of Billy’s back as it arches under his hand. The memory makes him smile, even as the sunlight almost rouses him, reflecting off the earring sparkling in Evi’s ear. He blinks at the dazzle, reminded of camera flashes and glitzy dresses. Remembers Evi at their first awards ceremony and the trouble that caused. Remembers her anger at herself the next morning, sober once more, reading all about it in the papers. He’d been a little afraid of her then, although she hadn’t blamed him.
But that’s the trouble, Dom thinks, slowly. When you’re a bad driver, or inexperienced, little emergencies can throw you, can put you off. The excitement of the horizon is all very well, but you have to take care of the here and now as well. You have to remember that you might be driving a fancy sports car right now, but you learnt to drive in your Mum’s old hatchback, and that you never know when the bumps of the road might put you back there again.
Billy knows all about that kind of thing. The memories of a little life. He still lives it, as much as he is able. Dom remembers waiting for him on the beaches of Mexico, watching the surf lick against the sand, feeling it pounding through him, whenever he wiped out. Driving home exhausted at the end of the day to meet Billy sleepily pouring himself a whiskey and falling upon the latest copy of the Times, three days old and already creased. Billy put him back together then, like he has so many times before. He knows it all, he’s seen it all, and he’s taken the piss out if it when necessary. He still drives a hatchback when in Glasgow.
But Evi. Dom loves her, certainly, but he’s not sure she sees things in quite the same way. He’s not certain she sees past the lure of the horizon to the importance of the little things. To the fact that it doesn’t matter, really, what car you drive. Or where you buy your ring. His grandmother once gave him her mother’s engagement ring. Her diamond cluster flashes as bright as any they might see today. But he hasn’t told Evi that, and he doesn’t want to think about why.
Instead, he watches Evi as she drives them into the city. He watches her face as she concentrates, and he memorises the way she almost frowns, and the way the light illuminates the golden highlights in her hair. He doesn’t look at the horizon because he knows that dust can give rise to illusions, and he doesn’t want to get caught out that way again. He knows that nothing in the distance is ever going to be as good as what he has right now. Billy taught him that. In Mexico.
They’re going shopping on Rodeo Drive and Dom is happy. He loves Evi, and he loves Billy, and he loves working in Hawaii. And in the end, he stops thinking about anything else.
In the end, Dom just enjoys the drive.
Author: valerienne
Fandom: Lotrips
Rating: G
Pairing: Dom/Evi, Dom/Billy
Word Count: 1483
Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. They belong, as ever, to themselves.
Notes: In which Nickey takes a metaphor and stretches it out of all recognition… :)
Some things you shouldn't get too good at,
Like smiling, crying and celebrity.
Some people got way too much confidence, baby.
Dom watches Evi when she drives. When she can’t see him, when she has to keep an eye on the road. Her eyes are so pale they almost disappear in the glare from the asphalt, a fine pale hazel, like warm champagne. Except that you should never serve champagne warm - it tastes metallic and bitter.
He likes watching her when she drives because he doesn’t want to watch the road. She’d called him a back-seat driver once and he’d said ‘yeah - being driven everywhere in limo’s does that to you’ and she’d laughed. He’d grinned and stuck his long rock-star tongue out at her, but she hadn’t seen that because her eyes had still been on the road.
He loves her so much. It’s a weird thing. He’d been expecting that, but not that she’d love him back. That is a constant surprise. He keeps expecting her to wake up and smell the coffee. Look around her and see all the beautiful people they’re surrounded by every day. So when she does look, he’s always on. He clowns, and he jokes, and he acts up for the camera. She always laughs. It’s why he likes it when she drives, despite everything. He doesn’t have to remember all his lines then. He can watch her. He can memorize the fine line of her nose. The way her hair curves in tendrils around her face. He can just love her.
She’s a terrible driver. Dom has made jokes in interviews about Evi’s driving, but it’s true. He laughed until his stomach hurt when he saw her reverse into the set on Ellen, but only because he doesn’t have to pretend it’s all right anymore. He still does though. It’s just another thing about Evi he adores. Although why he finds it cute - taking his life in his hands every time she drives them anywhere, well, that’s a mystery to him. He doesn’t think about the hand he leaves lying quietly on her thigh as he watches her. He doesn’t think about the warmth that soaks in, about the feel of the fabric under his palm; jeans maybe, or a thin cotton dress, or occasionally, smooth skin.
Evi knows she’s bad at driving. It’s another reason why Dom doesn’t tease her about it too often. She’s very self-deprecating about it, but her eyes gleam with pleasure when Dom asks her to drive. He likes that. It also means she concentrates when she’s driving him, honouring the trust he places in her, even though everyone on set knows what she’s like. Josh once refused to get into the car with her, throwing up his hands in a mock-comic way and backing off going ‘woah’, like she’s a horse or something. Like she’s a skittish wild animal. Evi had smiled, but it hadn’t reached her eyes. Her pale eyes, reflecting back everything. Dom had said nothing, but he knows you don’t treat a wild animal with such casual abandon. Animals need patience, and attention. They need understanding.
When Evi drives, she stares into the distance. Dom doesn’t like to look that far ahead. He doesn’t want to squint into the light reflecting off the road. He’s afraid he might see the car crash in the making and communicate that to Evi somehow. Maybe his hand would tighten where it lies against her skin, or he’d make a noise, forgetting his place in the scheme of things, while in her car. He loves her too much to want to look ahead. So he doesn’t. He only looks at her.
They’re driving today into central LA. They’re going shopping - Rodeo Drive, most likely. He knows Evi’s excited. Hell, he’s excited too. He has the butterflies in his stomach that tell him they’re at the beginning of something really special. Incongruously, he wishes that Billy was there. Incongruously, because it’s just not the done thing to take your best friend with you when you go to look at rings. It’s not done, and there are people who might look at him askance if they knew he’d had those thoughts. But then, many of his thoughts might be considered to be worth a second glance, or even a first. He loves Evi, but he misses Billy.
When Billy drives Dom can relax. He can stare out of the windows, or sing along to whatever CD Billy might have let him put into the player. He can chatter about anything and know that Billy will pick up on his thought, even before he knows what that thought is. He can lean and stretch, or scratch at his arse, or anything else that takes his fancy. And Billy will call him an eejit, or glance away from the road to smile at him fondly, which will make Dom say ‘look where you’re going, you twat’ or something equally endearing. Then Billy will look back, but reluctantly, and Dom will feel warm, knowing that the expanse of open road is not as important to Billy as Dom is.
Billy doesn’t always need to keep his eye on the road, after all. Dom’s talked about this with him. Billy says it’s much more important to feel comfortable, rather than be concentrating all the time. He says that’s why when he visits he usually lets Dom drive. He knows it’s more important to Dom than to Billy, and anyway Billy feels much happier when he’s closer to home. Where he knows the roads intimately, with all their little dips and bends and roadworks. Dom knows this, but because he knows this, he always feels better when he can persuade Billy to drive. It means more somehow.
Dom finds his head is nodding now, his mouth falling gently open, the curve of Evi’s neck under his sleepy eye mixing in his memory with the curve of Billy’s back as it arches under his hand. The memory makes him smile, even as the sunlight almost rouses him, reflecting off the earring sparkling in Evi’s ear. He blinks at the dazzle, reminded of camera flashes and glitzy dresses. Remembers Evi at their first awards ceremony and the trouble that caused. Remembers her anger at herself the next morning, sober once more, reading all about it in the papers. He’d been a little afraid of her then, although she hadn’t blamed him.
But that’s the trouble, Dom thinks, slowly. When you’re a bad driver, or inexperienced, little emergencies can throw you, can put you off. The excitement of the horizon is all very well, but you have to take care of the here and now as well. You have to remember that you might be driving a fancy sports car right now, but you learnt to drive in your Mum’s old hatchback, and that you never know when the bumps of the road might put you back there again.
Billy knows all about that kind of thing. The memories of a little life. He still lives it, as much as he is able. Dom remembers waiting for him on the beaches of Mexico, watching the surf lick against the sand, feeling it pounding through him, whenever he wiped out. Driving home exhausted at the end of the day to meet Billy sleepily pouring himself a whiskey and falling upon the latest copy of the Times, three days old and already creased. Billy put him back together then, like he has so many times before. He knows it all, he’s seen it all, and he’s taken the piss out if it when necessary. He still drives a hatchback when in Glasgow.
But Evi. Dom loves her, certainly, but he’s not sure she sees things in quite the same way. He’s not certain she sees past the lure of the horizon to the importance of the little things. To the fact that it doesn’t matter, really, what car you drive. Or where you buy your ring. His grandmother once gave him her mother’s engagement ring. Her diamond cluster flashes as bright as any they might see today. But he hasn’t told Evi that, and he doesn’t want to think about why.
Instead, he watches Evi as she drives them into the city. He watches her face as she concentrates, and he memorises the way she almost frowns, and the way the light illuminates the golden highlights in her hair. He doesn’t look at the horizon because he knows that dust can give rise to illusions, and he doesn’t want to get caught out that way again. He knows that nothing in the distance is ever going to be as good as what he has right now. Billy taught him that. In Mexico.
They’re going shopping on Rodeo Drive and Dom is happy. He loves Evi, and he loves Billy, and he loves working in Hawaii. And in the end, he stops thinking about anything else.
In the end, Dom just enjoys the drive.