Hiding
Title: Hiding
Author: pippinmctaggart
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips, Billy/Dom, Sean Bean
Rating: R for bad language
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, never met 'em, this is all lies. (*sigh*)
Lyrics: You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches for you tonight.
Thanks to elmathelas for the beta.
Sean slid the whisky glass in front of Billy before straddling the chair next to him. The bass line of the ear-shattering music thumped in his belly, leaving him both keyed up and vaguely nauseous. Sean waited, but Billy didn't notice the drink.
His round, rumbling voice flattened by a night spent shouting over the music and the hobbits, Sean rasped as loudly as he could in Billy's ear. "Watching only eggs him on. Here's your whisky."
Billy started, then dragged his eyes from where Dom gyrated wildly--desperately, Sean thought--against Elijah out on the dance floor. He picked up his glass and drained it in two large swallows. "Thanks," he gasped. "God, but that's shite."
Sean chuckled. He leaned in again. "Why do you let him do this to you?"
Billy's eyes flickered out to the dance floor and then with an obvious effort returned to meet Sean's quizzical gaze. He shrugged. "He's just...figuring out what he wants."
Sean disagreed. "He's hiding behind it. Christ, man, I've seen enough to know he's sticking a knife in your gut."
"He's scared, Sean."
"And so are you," Sean countered, feeling a strange fierceness burn in his chest. The shade of Boromir watching out for his hobbits, he suspected. "You're scared that if you don't let him do as he pleases, he'll be off like a fucking rocket."
"What would you have me do?" Billy hissed, the façade cracking for a moment until he took a deep breath and clawed it back together. "I can handle it. We have to work side by side every day, and if this is how it is, then so be it."
"Why does it have to be like this?" Sean demanded, grabbing Billy's wrist across the table. "Does he even know how you feel?"
Billy snatched his wrist back and lurched to his feet. He snapped, "How could he not? Everybody else fucking does."
"Goddammit, man, you know that doesn't mean--" Sean began, but Billy turned on his heel and walked away, heading straight for the bar and another Scotch.
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Sean muttered, then climbed to his feet as well. "Right. Enough's enough." He headed with firm resolve out to the dance floor, clouted Dom behind the ear, and dragged him off by the collar, leaving Elijah gaping like a stranded guppy.
"Ow! Jesus, Bean, what the fuck're you doing?" Dom protested, struggling but unable to break Sean's sure grip.
"Outside, pissant. Now."
"What the hell, Sean?" Dom asked plaintively, a little stung. He stumbled to a halt as Sean abruptly let him go outside the club. "You want to tell me what the fuck is going on, here?"
"Do you want Billy?" Sean asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
"What?"
"Do. You. Want . Him. Or do you just want to fuck him so you can move on to the next thing that catches your fancy?"
Dom lunged forward with a wild swing, but Sean dodged him easily and with both large hands pinned him against the wall of the club, blocking his feet as well.
"Well? Do you want him?" Sean's voice was only slightly uneven.
"What fucking business is it of yours?" Dom spat.
"It's my business because Billy's my mate, and I'm bloody sick of watching you tear him apart. He's said nothing about your fucking antics because he thinks you're scared, but I think you're either incredibly fucking selfish, or unbelievably thick. I'm hoping the latter, because I'd hate to think you were capable of being that fucking cruel, Monaghan."
As Sean stared down at him, Dom went still, and then the colour drained from his face. "Sean, are you--are you telling me..."
"Well, at least you're just thick," Sean sighed, and released him. "Yes, Dom, I'm telling you Billy's half in love with you, you blind, stupid twat."
Dom's mouth opened and closed twice before he managed, "But I--he never said. I--how was I supposed to know?"
He sounded so shattered that Sean laid a hand on his shoulder and gentled his voice. "The dogs in the street knew, lad."
Dom leaned weakly against the brick wall. "Holy fuck, Sean. Why the hell didn't he ever say anything?"
"Probably because five minutes after climbing out of his lap you're dry humping Elijah on the dance floor and chatting up the barmaid."
He blinked. "The barmaid? But I'm gay, he knows that."
"The number of birds he's had to watch you flirt with?" Sean shook his head. "He thinks you're bi. Bi, and young."
"Well of course I'm young, what the hell does that have to do--"
Sean rolled his eyes. "Thick and dim. Elijah's young too, you sodding Gumby."
"Elijah!" Dom exclaimed. "I don't want Elijah, I want Billy! Elwood and I are just having fun, because I never thought I had a gnat's chance in hell--"
"And how would Billy know that?" Sean pointed out sharply, a bit fed up. "What with the fully-clothed fucking you were doing out there."
"Elijah's drunk! He's always horny when he's drunk! I don't bloody want him, Sean, it's Billy I'm fucking in love with!"
"Glad to hear it, I wish you joy. Now come with me, you massive twat." Sean's hand dropped on Dom's shoulder again, this time in a vice-like grip, and he marched him inside the club and straight to their table. "Go easy on him," he murmured in Dom's ear. "He's hurting, and from the looks of him, completely pissed off his arse."
Dom turned, a look of panic on his face. "What do I do?"
"Put him out of his bloody misery," Sean suggested, keeping his voice kind even as he delivered a light slap to the back of Dom's head.
"Out of his misery. Right." He bit his lip.
"Take him home, Dom. Give him water and Paracetamol and look after him. Tomorrow when he feels halfway human again, tell him how you feel, and then you two can shag like rabbits and leave off driving the rest of us stark raving mad." Sean grinned.
Billy glared at them both balefully. "What th' fuck're you two starin' at?" he growled, slurring a little.
Dom took a deep breath, then crossed to Billy's side and put a hand under his arm. "C'mon, Bill. Let's go home, yeah?"
Billy yanked his arm away, knocking over his glass and spilling the last of his whisky. "Ah, fuck. What a waste o' fucking drink. Gimme another."
"How about we call it a night instead?" Dom cajoled, taking Billy's arm again.
Sean moved to stand behind Dom, backing him up both literally and figuratively. "You're cut off, Boyd," he said loudly, cheerfully. "You're bloody paralytic. Let Dom take you home, man, all right?"
"No. Don' need t' go home. Need another fuckin' drink."
Sean stepped in front of Dom to grasp Billy by the shirt and drag him out along the bench, hauling him to his feet. "Bill," he said, slowing his speech down a little for Billy's benefit. "No more whisky. Go on home with Dom, lad."
"Dom," Billy snorted. "He doesnae wanna take me home. Bet he wants to take Elijah home, though."
Dom worked his shoulder beneath Billy's arm, taking over the weight from Sean. "I do want to take you home, Bills. I'm going to look after you, all right?"
"Why?" Billy asked suspiciously, peering with bleary eyes at Dom.
"Because you're my best mate, and because I love you," Dom said firmly.
"You don' love me. Fucker."
"I do."
"You don'."
Sean rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Boyd. Go home and pass out and try not to spend all night puking, and tomorrow will be a better day."
"How d' you know?" Billy scoffed.
"Because I know Dom's telling the truth. Go."
Dom shot Sean a grateful glance, and with low words in Billy's ear, helped him cross the crowded club to the door.
Sean watched them go. Poor Billy, he thought. Going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. But at least he'd have Dom. A slow, contented smile growing on his face, Sean crossed to the bar and ordered another drink.
Author: pippinmctaggart
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips, Billy/Dom, Sean Bean
Rating: R for bad language
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, never met 'em, this is all lies. (*sigh*)
Lyrics: You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches for you tonight.
Thanks to elmathelas for the beta.
Sean slid the whisky glass in front of Billy before straddling the chair next to him. The bass line of the ear-shattering music thumped in his belly, leaving him both keyed up and vaguely nauseous. Sean waited, but Billy didn't notice the drink.
His round, rumbling voice flattened by a night spent shouting over the music and the hobbits, Sean rasped as loudly as he could in Billy's ear. "Watching only eggs him on. Here's your whisky."
Billy started, then dragged his eyes from where Dom gyrated wildly--desperately, Sean thought--against Elijah out on the dance floor. He picked up his glass and drained it in two large swallows. "Thanks," he gasped. "God, but that's shite."
Sean chuckled. He leaned in again. "Why do you let him do this to you?"
Billy's eyes flickered out to the dance floor and then with an obvious effort returned to meet Sean's quizzical gaze. He shrugged. "He's just...figuring out what he wants."
Sean disagreed. "He's hiding behind it. Christ, man, I've seen enough to know he's sticking a knife in your gut."
"He's scared, Sean."
"And so are you," Sean countered, feeling a strange fierceness burn in his chest. The shade of Boromir watching out for his hobbits, he suspected. "You're scared that if you don't let him do as he pleases, he'll be off like a fucking rocket."
"What would you have me do?" Billy hissed, the façade cracking for a moment until he took a deep breath and clawed it back together. "I can handle it. We have to work side by side every day, and if this is how it is, then so be it."
"Why does it have to be like this?" Sean demanded, grabbing Billy's wrist across the table. "Does he even know how you feel?"
Billy snatched his wrist back and lurched to his feet. He snapped, "How could he not? Everybody else fucking does."
"Goddammit, man, you know that doesn't mean--" Sean began, but Billy turned on his heel and walked away, heading straight for the bar and another Scotch.
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Sean muttered, then climbed to his feet as well. "Right. Enough's enough." He headed with firm resolve out to the dance floor, clouted Dom behind the ear, and dragged him off by the collar, leaving Elijah gaping like a stranded guppy.
"Ow! Jesus, Bean, what the fuck're you doing?" Dom protested, struggling but unable to break Sean's sure grip.
"Outside, pissant. Now."
"What the hell, Sean?" Dom asked plaintively, a little stung. He stumbled to a halt as Sean abruptly let him go outside the club. "You want to tell me what the fuck is going on, here?"
"Do you want Billy?" Sean asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
"What?"
"Do. You. Want . Him. Or do you just want to fuck him so you can move on to the next thing that catches your fancy?"
Dom lunged forward with a wild swing, but Sean dodged him easily and with both large hands pinned him against the wall of the club, blocking his feet as well.
"Well? Do you want him?" Sean's voice was only slightly uneven.
"What fucking business is it of yours?" Dom spat.
"It's my business because Billy's my mate, and I'm bloody sick of watching you tear him apart. He's said nothing about your fucking antics because he thinks you're scared, but I think you're either incredibly fucking selfish, or unbelievably thick. I'm hoping the latter, because I'd hate to think you were capable of being that fucking cruel, Monaghan."
As Sean stared down at him, Dom went still, and then the colour drained from his face. "Sean, are you--are you telling me..."
"Well, at least you're just thick," Sean sighed, and released him. "Yes, Dom, I'm telling you Billy's half in love with you, you blind, stupid twat."
Dom's mouth opened and closed twice before he managed, "But I--he never said. I--how was I supposed to know?"
He sounded so shattered that Sean laid a hand on his shoulder and gentled his voice. "The dogs in the street knew, lad."
Dom leaned weakly against the brick wall. "Holy fuck, Sean. Why the hell didn't he ever say anything?"
"Probably because five minutes after climbing out of his lap you're dry humping Elijah on the dance floor and chatting up the barmaid."
He blinked. "The barmaid? But I'm gay, he knows that."
"The number of birds he's had to watch you flirt with?" Sean shook his head. "He thinks you're bi. Bi, and young."
"Well of course I'm young, what the hell does that have to do--"
Sean rolled his eyes. "Thick and dim. Elijah's young too, you sodding Gumby."
"Elijah!" Dom exclaimed. "I don't want Elijah, I want Billy! Elwood and I are just having fun, because I never thought I had a gnat's chance in hell--"
"And how would Billy know that?" Sean pointed out sharply, a bit fed up. "What with the fully-clothed fucking you were doing out there."
"Elijah's drunk! He's always horny when he's drunk! I don't bloody want him, Sean, it's Billy I'm fucking in love with!"
"Glad to hear it, I wish you joy. Now come with me, you massive twat." Sean's hand dropped on Dom's shoulder again, this time in a vice-like grip, and he marched him inside the club and straight to their table. "Go easy on him," he murmured in Dom's ear. "He's hurting, and from the looks of him, completely pissed off his arse."
Dom turned, a look of panic on his face. "What do I do?"
"Put him out of his bloody misery," Sean suggested, keeping his voice kind even as he delivered a light slap to the back of Dom's head.
"Out of his misery. Right." He bit his lip.
"Take him home, Dom. Give him water and Paracetamol and look after him. Tomorrow when he feels halfway human again, tell him how you feel, and then you two can shag like rabbits and leave off driving the rest of us stark raving mad." Sean grinned.
Billy glared at them both balefully. "What th' fuck're you two starin' at?" he growled, slurring a little.
Dom took a deep breath, then crossed to Billy's side and put a hand under his arm. "C'mon, Bill. Let's go home, yeah?"
Billy yanked his arm away, knocking over his glass and spilling the last of his whisky. "Ah, fuck. What a waste o' fucking drink. Gimme another."
"How about we call it a night instead?" Dom cajoled, taking Billy's arm again.
Sean moved to stand behind Dom, backing him up both literally and figuratively. "You're cut off, Boyd," he said loudly, cheerfully. "You're bloody paralytic. Let Dom take you home, man, all right?"
"No. Don' need t' go home. Need another fuckin' drink."
Sean stepped in front of Dom to grasp Billy by the shirt and drag him out along the bench, hauling him to his feet. "Bill," he said, slowing his speech down a little for Billy's benefit. "No more whisky. Go on home with Dom, lad."
"Dom," Billy snorted. "He doesnae wanna take me home. Bet he wants to take Elijah home, though."
Dom worked his shoulder beneath Billy's arm, taking over the weight from Sean. "I do want to take you home, Bills. I'm going to look after you, all right?"
"Why?" Billy asked suspiciously, peering with bleary eyes at Dom.
"Because you're my best mate, and because I love you," Dom said firmly.
"You don' love me. Fucker."
"I do."
"You don'."
Sean rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Boyd. Go home and pass out and try not to spend all night puking, and tomorrow will be a better day."
"How d' you know?" Billy scoffed.
"Because I know Dom's telling the truth. Go."
Dom shot Sean a grateful glance, and with low words in Billy's ear, helped him cross the crowded club to the door.
Sean watched them go. Poor Billy, he thought. Going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. But at least he'd have Dom. A slow, contented smile growing on his face, Sean crossed to the bar and ordered another drink.