Book 1, Chapter 4: Just Friends
Title: Just Friends
Authors: escribo
Characters: Dominic/Greg (omc)
Rating: strong R
Word count: 1458
Summary: How can you tell if you've fallen in love.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
Greg waits a bit longer before he slips from Dominic's body then pulls off the used condom, ties an awkward knot and drops it to the floor. He hates this part: of ending and pulling away, creeping back to his single room at the end of the hall. Sleeping alone. It's another reason he wishes this was more. He doesn't miss his home in Brazil so much when they curl against each other. Hoping that he can drag their time out a bit longer, Greg slowly slides his hand over Dominic's waist, meaning to pull him closer.
"I better not step on that."
Greg laughs and presses his lips to Dominic's shoulders. During his first few months at Baskerville, he'd found it hard to make friends until he'd met Dominic at an intermural footie match. Rather than find it difficult to understand Greg's accent, Dominic had found the way Greg phrased things to be charming and just grinned as he listened to Greg speak, listening to the music of his voice. It had made being so far away bearable and then, when it became more, enjoyable. "I thought you would be asleep already."
"I'm not that bad," Dominic says, though it's not the truth. He almost always curls a bit into Greg's chest when they're done and falls into a light sleep before Greg leaves. Tonight, however, Dominic pulls away, swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits up. The heavy air in the room makes him feel restless. "It's hot in here."
"You are hot."
"Ta, mate."
"You are that, too, but..." Greg means, of course, that Dominic always feels as though he lives in the bellows of a furnace and he pinches Dominic's hip for shifting his meaning. It's these moments, these quiet times that Greg has never really had with anyone else that makes him wish this was more than a casual fuck. Dominic is different from everyone Greg knows, and though their relationship isn't everything he had once hoped it might become, it's enough more often than not.
Dominic kisses Greg before he stands to open the small window near his desk. A cool breeze rushes in, sliding over Greg body. He rolls onto his back and pillows his head with his arms. He loves to watch Dominic and is glad that Dominic seems to enjoy being watched, wishes that he could be so easy. Back home, such couplings had happened but they were nothing more than what Dominic calls buddy-fucks, a term that tripped uncomfortably on his tongue. The few women that Greg had been with had been the one who liked to cuddle afterwards, to be held and petted as Dominic usually likes to be. Greg had asked once what that meant, if it made them more than just this new word, buddies. Dominic had shrugged and asked what Greg wanted from the relationship. At the time, he couldn't say that he was in love with Dominic--very fond of him, but not in love. So maybe that was it, buddies. In any case, Greg'll have to go home one day to what his family expects of him--a wife and children--so he tries not to think about it too much. That seems to suit Dominic as well.
Outside in the courtyard they can hear people calling to each other in the darkness. The sound is loud and joyous before the laughs fade away, leaving them in quiet again. That's how they had come in tonight, too, from a night out with friends. Greg had waited in his own room until the sounds in the hall had died down and then he had ventured out to knock lightly on Dominic's door. The light had still been off in Dominic's room when Dominic had opened the door and pulled Greg in by the hem of his shirt. When Greg had stepped inside, his hands had sought Dominic's hips to pull him close and the dimple in his cheek had deepened with pleasure. Dominic had kissed it as Greg pushed the door shut with his foot.
Greg watches now as Dominic opens a bottle of water that had been on his desk and drinks back half of it. "I'm glad for this," he says, his voice sincere. "Thank you."
Dominic lowers the bottle and from the dim light of the window, Greg can see that he's grinning. Greg knows that Dominic is likely blushing, as he does over even small compliments. It's another thing that makes him different, the way his cheeks tinge pink and his head bows slightly just before he tries to distract people from it with a joke. Greg wishes now that they had left the light on.
"I've never been thanked before, I don't think."
"No? Do you think I shouldn't?"
Dominic shakes his head and comes to sit on the bed, offering Greg the bottle of water. "I like it. Thank you, too. It's just not ever been like this."
"How has it been, if not like this. This has been very good, yes? So the other times must have been not good." Greg takes the bottle and finishes it off, cringing at the taste of the stale, warm water.
They rarely have these types of conversations, mostly because Greg knows enough about Dominic's sexual past to be wary of talking about it. He doesn't understand the other things that Dominic seems to crave, things that Greg can't begin to know how to give him. Now, Dominic is quiet for a long time, long enough that Greg thinks that perhaps he won't answer. Instead, Dominic lays on his side again and relaxes into Greg's arms. Greg tightens his arms around Dominic's chest and tangles their legs together, accepting that this is how it is, usually. He's warm enough against Dominic's body that he leaves the sheet where it lies pushed to the foot of the bed and hopes that he won't have to leave.
"Not bad," Dominic finally says, startling Greg from the verge of sleep. "Just different. I wasn't in love with them."
"You're not in love with me." It's a statement, not a question.
"No, not in love." Dominic's voice sounds resigned but he tempers it quickly by reaching back to rub Greg's hip. "I do love you in a way though, Greg. You know that."
"As friends. I know." Greg kisses Dominic's neck in an effort to reassure him. He doesn't really understand this different sort of love that Dominic feels. To Greg, Dominic seems to hold a naive view of love--this long list of qualities the person he'll fall in love with must have along with some kind of spark that Dominic can't describe but expects to be able to recognize when it happens. For a while, Greg had wished he could unlock the secret code of this love because of the way Dominic's eyes sparkle when he speaks of it--a way that is absent when he speaks of other things. "It's good and I'm different, but those things are different and not not good, too."
Dominic laughs and settles back down into Greg's arms, at ease once more. "It's different because we're friends and I don't have to negotiate with you about what will happen. It just does. I like that."
"I don't understand this negotiation to have sex."
"And I don't have the energy to explain it."
Greg knows that Dominic is talking about what he calls scenes, heavier and darker things than what Greg likes to associate with Dominic. Such things seem so incongruous with what he knows of his friend, what he's experienced while they've been together. He can't imagine someone wanting to tie Dominic down or hurt him during sex, or that this is what Dominic would like to have happen. He knows it happens, of course, but it's connecting it to Dominic that he has a hard time with.
By the time Greg has it sorted in his mind and is ready to make another argument against it, Dominic's breathing has slowed and evened out. The fight leaves him now that he knows he'll be able to stay. He never likes to ask but tonight had hoped that they would both forget that he was supposed to slide out the room as though nothing had happened. As if it's not supposed to mean anything.
From outside the window comes the sounds of soft singing, as from someone who doesn't know they can be heard as they cross the courtyard. The song is sad, the words indistinct and lost to the night. Listening to Dominic and the voice of the singer, Greg rubs his hand over Dominic's shoulder and arm thinking maybe the singer wishes he were in love, too.
Authors: escribo
Characters: Dominic/Greg (omc)
Rating: strong R
Word count: 1458
Summary: How can you tell if you've fallen in love.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
Greg waits a bit longer before he slips from Dominic's body then pulls off the used condom, ties an awkward knot and drops it to the floor. He hates this part: of ending and pulling away, creeping back to his single room at the end of the hall. Sleeping alone. It's another reason he wishes this was more. He doesn't miss his home in Brazil so much when they curl against each other. Hoping that he can drag their time out a bit longer, Greg slowly slides his hand over Dominic's waist, meaning to pull him closer.
"I better not step on that."
Greg laughs and presses his lips to Dominic's shoulders. During his first few months at Baskerville, he'd found it hard to make friends until he'd met Dominic at an intermural footie match. Rather than find it difficult to understand Greg's accent, Dominic had found the way Greg phrased things to be charming and just grinned as he listened to Greg speak, listening to the music of his voice. It had made being so far away bearable and then, when it became more, enjoyable. "I thought you would be asleep already."
"I'm not that bad," Dominic says, though it's not the truth. He almost always curls a bit into Greg's chest when they're done and falls into a light sleep before Greg leaves. Tonight, however, Dominic pulls away, swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits up. The heavy air in the room makes him feel restless. "It's hot in here."
"You are hot."
"Ta, mate."
"You are that, too, but..." Greg means, of course, that Dominic always feels as though he lives in the bellows of a furnace and he pinches Dominic's hip for shifting his meaning. It's these moments, these quiet times that Greg has never really had with anyone else that makes him wish this was more than a casual fuck. Dominic is different from everyone Greg knows, and though their relationship isn't everything he had once hoped it might become, it's enough more often than not.
Dominic kisses Greg before he stands to open the small window near his desk. A cool breeze rushes in, sliding over Greg body. He rolls onto his back and pillows his head with his arms. He loves to watch Dominic and is glad that Dominic seems to enjoy being watched, wishes that he could be so easy. Back home, such couplings had happened but they were nothing more than what Dominic calls buddy-fucks, a term that tripped uncomfortably on his tongue. The few women that Greg had been with had been the one who liked to cuddle afterwards, to be held and petted as Dominic usually likes to be. Greg had asked once what that meant, if it made them more than just this new word, buddies. Dominic had shrugged and asked what Greg wanted from the relationship. At the time, he couldn't say that he was in love with Dominic--very fond of him, but not in love. So maybe that was it, buddies. In any case, Greg'll have to go home one day to what his family expects of him--a wife and children--so he tries not to think about it too much. That seems to suit Dominic as well.
Outside in the courtyard they can hear people calling to each other in the darkness. The sound is loud and joyous before the laughs fade away, leaving them in quiet again. That's how they had come in tonight, too, from a night out with friends. Greg had waited in his own room until the sounds in the hall had died down and then he had ventured out to knock lightly on Dominic's door. The light had still been off in Dominic's room when Dominic had opened the door and pulled Greg in by the hem of his shirt. When Greg had stepped inside, his hands had sought Dominic's hips to pull him close and the dimple in his cheek had deepened with pleasure. Dominic had kissed it as Greg pushed the door shut with his foot.
Greg watches now as Dominic opens a bottle of water that had been on his desk and drinks back half of it. "I'm glad for this," he says, his voice sincere. "Thank you."
Dominic lowers the bottle and from the dim light of the window, Greg can see that he's grinning. Greg knows that Dominic is likely blushing, as he does over even small compliments. It's another thing that makes him different, the way his cheeks tinge pink and his head bows slightly just before he tries to distract people from it with a joke. Greg wishes now that they had left the light on.
"I've never been thanked before, I don't think."
"No? Do you think I shouldn't?"
Dominic shakes his head and comes to sit on the bed, offering Greg the bottle of water. "I like it. Thank you, too. It's just not ever been like this."
"How has it been, if not like this. This has been very good, yes? So the other times must have been not good." Greg takes the bottle and finishes it off, cringing at the taste of the stale, warm water.
They rarely have these types of conversations, mostly because Greg knows enough about Dominic's sexual past to be wary of talking about it. He doesn't understand the other things that Dominic seems to crave, things that Greg can't begin to know how to give him. Now, Dominic is quiet for a long time, long enough that Greg thinks that perhaps he won't answer. Instead, Dominic lays on his side again and relaxes into Greg's arms. Greg tightens his arms around Dominic's chest and tangles their legs together, accepting that this is how it is, usually. He's warm enough against Dominic's body that he leaves the sheet where it lies pushed to the foot of the bed and hopes that he won't have to leave.
"Not bad," Dominic finally says, startling Greg from the verge of sleep. "Just different. I wasn't in love with them."
"You're not in love with me." It's a statement, not a question.
"No, not in love." Dominic's voice sounds resigned but he tempers it quickly by reaching back to rub Greg's hip. "I do love you in a way though, Greg. You know that."
"As friends. I know." Greg kisses Dominic's neck in an effort to reassure him. He doesn't really understand this different sort of love that Dominic feels. To Greg, Dominic seems to hold a naive view of love--this long list of qualities the person he'll fall in love with must have along with some kind of spark that Dominic can't describe but expects to be able to recognize when it happens. For a while, Greg had wished he could unlock the secret code of this love because of the way Dominic's eyes sparkle when he speaks of it--a way that is absent when he speaks of other things. "It's good and I'm different, but those things are different and not not good, too."
Dominic laughs and settles back down into Greg's arms, at ease once more. "It's different because we're friends and I don't have to negotiate with you about what will happen. It just does. I like that."
"I don't understand this negotiation to have sex."
"And I don't have the energy to explain it."
Greg knows that Dominic is talking about what he calls scenes, heavier and darker things than what Greg likes to associate with Dominic. Such things seem so incongruous with what he knows of his friend, what he's experienced while they've been together. He can't imagine someone wanting to tie Dominic down or hurt him during sex, or that this is what Dominic would like to have happen. He knows it happens, of course, but it's connecting it to Dominic that he has a hard time with.
By the time Greg has it sorted in his mind and is ready to make another argument against it, Dominic's breathing has slowed and evened out. The fight leaves him now that he knows he'll be able to stay. He never likes to ask but tonight had hoped that they would both forget that he was supposed to slide out the room as though nothing had happened. As if it's not supposed to mean anything.
From outside the window comes the sounds of soft singing, as from someone who doesn't know they can be heard as they cross the courtyard. The song is sad, the words indistinct and lost to the night. Listening to Dominic and the voice of the singer, Greg rubs his hand over Dominic's shoulder and arm thinking maybe the singer wishes he were in love, too.