Summary: Dom can’t sleep.
Notes: Written for an icon drabble challenge.
They shot the bed scene today. All he had to do was lie there, turn onto his side, pretend to sleep. “Turn towards Billy,” Peter said, so he did, turning to his side and nearly spooning Billy through their costumes.
That was all.
Except now Dom can’t sleep for remembering. Billy, clean-smelling even after a day of filming; Billy, fresh despite the layers of makeup and applied dirt; Billy of the fine bones and smooth skin.
“Don’t you be compromisin’ my virtue, young Dom,” he had teased, and Dominic had managed to laugh. He had wanted to bury his nose in Billy’s curls–fake curls, he knew, but don’t ruin his fantasy–but laughing was easier to explain. He and Billy were always making each other laugh, they were famous for it.
So he laughed and Sean said, “You know, in pre-Revolutionary America young couples would sleep together before their weddings, with a board between them to ensure their chastity,” and the clapper sounded and Trish said, “Quiet on the set,” and that was that.
Except for questions about Billy. Would he sleep solidly, like a trusting child? Would he toss and turn and mumble? Would he–God help us all–snore?
And what, Dom thinks as he punches his pillow yet again, would he be like before they fell asleep?
He has a five a.m. call but still he gets up, pulls on the nearest trousers and t-shirt–clean? Clean is for fussy blokes like Orlando–and gets into his car. Billy’s flat is ten minutes by car, less at this time of the night. And there is a light on in the window, that says Don’t go home. Come up, you won’t be turned away.
He knocks tentatively at first, then louder, and gets in one solid bang before the door opens and Billy stares at him, rumpled and sleepy-looking and still the clothes he wore home. “What?” he says, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand.
Billy steps aside and Dom comes into the flat, his hands in his pockets. “Neither can I,” Billy says, his accent turning ordinary vowels into sweet, friendly sounds. “I fell asleep reading, I mean.”
Billy’s cheeks are dark with five a.m. shadow and Dom has the idea that it’ll be soft like the hair on his head. He puts his hands on Billy’s face, and Billy’s sleepy eyes get slightly more alert.
He steps close and leans his head against Billy’s neck. He inhales, and Billy’s arms go around his shoulders as if to keep him from falling. “You smell like home,” he mutters into Billy’s neck.
“Cigarettes and coal,” Billy says.
“Rivers. Trees. Stone.”
“You homesick, Dom?”
“A little. Some.”
More softly, more gently, “You lonely, Dom?”
This is a ridiculous question. They’re surrounded by people every day, all day, grips and extras and stuntmen, Alan and John drawing, Fran and Phil rewriting, makeup girls touching up their prosthetics, and always the slap-slap-slap of Peter’s bare feet. Not to mention the locals, all friendly, some much more than others.
“Yes,” Dominic whispers and squeezes his eyes shut.
Billy sighs and rubs his shoulder. “D’you want my couch? We’ve both got early calls tomorrow. I’ve set the alarm. You can have the shower first.”
“You’re a prince among men,” Dominic says, finally pulling away. He doesn’t know how to do this. Girls, you just chat them up right and they fall over for you. Girls and boys are supposed to go together–they’ve got all the interlocking naughty bits.
Boys and boys, now? Different issue. First you have to be sure they’re not going to thump you for the suggestion, then figure out if they fancy you or not, and then–
It is now that Dom notices Billy has yet to let him go. That he is combing two fingertips through the short hair at the back of Dom’s neck and looking at him kindly, patiently, as if to say, Stupid, dense man, not seeing what’s right in front of you. No wonder girls complain about us so much.
“Or d’you want the bed?” he murmurs, and smiles like a pixie.
His stubble isn’t soft but his lips are.
Kisses fall like Scottish rain–but like the old joke about Scottish weather it changes after a few minutes, and before the storm intensifies Billy does pull away and holds Dominic’s chin in his hand.
“You’ve got five seconds to say no.”
Dominic smiles and kisses Billy again. “And how long to say yes?”