Fic: Scenes From A New Zealand Restaurant
Title: Scenes from a New Zealand Restaurant
Author: Viktoria Angelique (v_angelique)
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is true. Also, pigs can fly. And I have a penis.
Summary: Possibly one in a short series. I've been feeling a need for some NZ-era established relationship Monaboyd, and very nostalgic for the beach. This fell out of my brain. There may not be seafood shacks like this in New Zealand, but I take liberties. Forgive me.
A/N: Title borrowed and tweaked from one of my favourite Billy Joel songs.
It doesn't resemble a restaurant so much as a warehouse, and you have to shout to be heard as you sip your pint and wait for a taste of those beer-battered prawns that smell so enticing, combined with the just-barely-there scent of the ocean courtesy of the building's one screened-in side. They get a big long wooden table on the decking right up against the screen, so they can look out to the piers and the fishing boats bringing in their catch. It's dusk, and a bit of a fog's rolling in, might be rain, but it's so bright and boisterous inside that it's impossible to be gloomy. The walls are decorated with tacky kitsch and bright, colourful signs, the only light produced by an ungodly number of tiki lamps. A lovely blonde with large breasts beneath the lime green t-shirt all the waitstaff wear comes to take their food orders, and Billy feels sorry for her, having to deal with their lot. He nudges Dom's ankle under the table, just gently, and when he casts his eyes briefly to the side Dom's facing forward but grinning, and scoots closer to Billy on the bench seat.
"And for you?"
"Yeah, I'll have the three seafood basket, love, with the oysters, mussels, and scallops. Cheers," he says with his trademark Dom smile, passing her the plastic menu.
"You're having oysters and mussels?"
"But I like mussels, Bill," Dom replies cheekily, not missing a beat as he squeezes Billy's bicep. The girl laughs, thinking it's for her. As usual, Dom doesn't do anything to dissuade her, but that's all right. Billy knows.
"And for your friend?" she asks, still looking at Dom.
Billy raises his eyebrows. "His friend will have fish and chips."
"Aw, Bill, that's boring. We're celebrating!"
"Are we? No one told me."
Dom grins as the waitress moves on to Ian and leans over, whispering into Billy's ear. "It's been three months tonight since you lost your virginity."
Billy's beer goes down the wrong tube, and it's a full three minutes before he quits hacking. Astin looks concerned, but Billy waves him off.
"Wanker," he hisses when everyone has gone back to ignoring them. "I did not lose my virginity. That was with Samantha Cox when I was fifteen."
"Oh, beg pardon. Cox, was it? Interesting name. An omen, you might…"
Billy smacks him on the knee, and Dom shuts up, not because of that but due to Elijah, who's tugging at his arm and asking him to help relay a story to Dave and Karl, who are seated across the table and down two seats from them. Billy ignores them and starts rubbing his thumb in little circles on Dom's knee, just to get him back.
Across the table from Billy, Miranda and Fran are having a discussion about Eowyn's dresses, which is too boring for Billy to join in, but he watches them with that glazed over look that could be construed as to staring into space, not looking rather specifically at Miranda's hands. He's always been fascinated by hands, by a woman's hands - the slender fingers, the longer nails, the way they land so gracefully on a tabletop or the woman's own thigh. He had a girlfriend once who was a bit of an exhibitionist, and she didn't mind if he watched, right up close, as she pleasured herself. He was fascinated by the sight of slim fingers, the nails painted with chipped black varnish, rubbing over the fleshy little mound of her clit and slipping in between her folds, only to reappear in his line of vision looking just a bit wrinkly and covered with a thin sheen of fluid.
He thinks fondly back to that girlfriend and it occurs to him, his hand travelling unconsciously higher up on Dom's leg, Dom shifting forward without a break in his sentence to accommodate Billy's wishes, that Dom is in ways a lot like her. Hilarious, a little dangerous, great smile and a great body and a bit of a penchant for things that are dirty and scandalous. He tries to imagine Dom with jet-black hair like hers, but he can't quite manage it, and starts laughing.
"All right, love?" Miranda asks with a bemused smile, and he waves her off with a hand.
"Oh, don't mind him," Dom answers, injecting himself into their conversation with a grin, leaning forward and "whispering" to Miranda. "It's best to ignore the symptoms, let them sort themselves out. It'll go away on its own once he has his medication." Billy pinches the inside of Dom's thigh, hard, and Dom nearly upsets his glass when he jumps, saved only by Billy's quick reflexes. Billy grins at Dom as he raises his hand to his mouth and licks the trails of beer away.
"Tease," Dom says out loud, and everyone around them laughs. It still throws Billy off a bit, how Dom continues to make certain comments in public even though they're true now, and it's not just Dom trying to rattle Billy or desperately remind Billy of Dom's bisexuality or whatever all of that was before the cottage, where it all fell into place. He manages a roll of his eyes, hoping the flush in his cheeks isn't visible, and nods gratefully to Andy when he says he's going to the bar and asks if they want another pitcher.
"Do you have any plans after we wrap?" Miranda asks, and Billy shrugs his shoulders.
"I'll go back to Scotland. Try to find another job, I suppose." He doesn't really want to think about it, in fact - he's been enjoying denial - but he doesn't want to be rude.
"Is there much in the way of theatre in Glasgow?" she asks, sipping at her beer. "I can't say I know anything about it."
"Aye, there's some. The Pantheon company, and then there are some good companies in Edinburgh. I'll likely go back to it, unless any film scripts fall across my lap. My agent tells me not to count on it," he says with a self-deprecating smirk.
"Then you should fire the bitch," Dom chimes in, and Billy stares at him.
"Dominic!"
"What? You're incredibly talented. Isn't he incredibly talented, M'randa?"
"Incredibly, yes," she agrees, smiling with a bemused look.
"It's true. I'm an expert on this."
"You're a Billy-expert?" Fran asks, grinning a little. Billy eyes her suspiciously.
"I am!" Dom agrees whole-heartedly, wrapping an arm around Billy's shoulders. Fortunately, Andy returns with the beer then, and Billy has something to do with his hands. He's decided that petting Dom under the table only encourages him, and he lets Dom touch him in the usual ways in full view, feeling that it's safer somehow. After a few minutes, the food comes, and it smells fantastic.
"Fuck!" Dom shouts, letting a half-eaten piece of fried oyster fall back into the paper-lined red plastic basket.
"Well that's attractive," Billy comments dryly. "Is it bad, then?"
"Nugh! S'haawt!"
"Excuse me?"
Dom takes a sip from Billy's beer and repeats himself. "It's hot!"
"Yes, Dominic," Billy says slowly, the corners of his mouth curling up. "It came from a hob."
"Oh, bugger off," Dom grumbles. Billy smiles and gives his thigh a quick, friendly rub.
"Want some fish?"
"What, is it not hot?"
"I'm afraid it is."
"Well that just won't do."
Billy laughs. "Would it kill you to wait two minutes?"
"Yes. I'm hungry."
"Here," Billy offers, plucking the lemon wedge from the rim of his water glass. "Eat this." Completely unexpectedly, Dom squeezes the lemon juice onto Billy's neck and sucks it off.
"I said eat it!" Billy yelps. "Not take a body shot off me with it!"
If not many members of their party noticed Dom's little caper, they certainly notice Billy's exclamation, and nearly everyone stops talking and turns to face him.
"Erm…"
"I told you an evening out would offer amusements untold," Ian says cheerfully to Nick, whom he's brought along for once rather than keeping him hidden in the big house near the beach.
"I didn't doubt you," Nick says, raising his beer to Billy, who turns bright red. Dom's still laughing, his face pressed into Billy's neck again.
"You can eat your bloody oysters now," Billy mutters. The others go back to their conversations, and Dom grins against his neck.
"Oysters are an aphrodisiac," he whispers.
"I’m not talking to you."
"Vee have vays," Dom replies, and then indeed goes back to his oysters. Billy picks the discarded lemon up out of Dom's basket and squirts it on his fish, and tries to ignore the warmth under his skin. It's generally best that way.
Author: Viktoria Angelique (v_angelique)
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is true. Also, pigs can fly. And I have a penis.
Summary: Possibly one in a short series. I've been feeling a need for some NZ-era established relationship Monaboyd, and very nostalgic for the beach. This fell out of my brain. There may not be seafood shacks like this in New Zealand, but I take liberties. Forgive me.
A/N: Title borrowed and tweaked from one of my favourite Billy Joel songs.
It doesn't resemble a restaurant so much as a warehouse, and you have to shout to be heard as you sip your pint and wait for a taste of those beer-battered prawns that smell so enticing, combined with the just-barely-there scent of the ocean courtesy of the building's one screened-in side. They get a big long wooden table on the decking right up against the screen, so they can look out to the piers and the fishing boats bringing in their catch. It's dusk, and a bit of a fog's rolling in, might be rain, but it's so bright and boisterous inside that it's impossible to be gloomy. The walls are decorated with tacky kitsch and bright, colourful signs, the only light produced by an ungodly number of tiki lamps. A lovely blonde with large breasts beneath the lime green t-shirt all the waitstaff wear comes to take their food orders, and Billy feels sorry for her, having to deal with their lot. He nudges Dom's ankle under the table, just gently, and when he casts his eyes briefly to the side Dom's facing forward but grinning, and scoots closer to Billy on the bench seat.
"And for you?"
"Yeah, I'll have the three seafood basket, love, with the oysters, mussels, and scallops. Cheers," he says with his trademark Dom smile, passing her the plastic menu.
"You're having oysters and mussels?"
"But I like mussels, Bill," Dom replies cheekily, not missing a beat as he squeezes Billy's bicep. The girl laughs, thinking it's for her. As usual, Dom doesn't do anything to dissuade her, but that's all right. Billy knows.
"And for your friend?" she asks, still looking at Dom.
Billy raises his eyebrows. "His friend will have fish and chips."
"Aw, Bill, that's boring. We're celebrating!"
"Are we? No one told me."
Dom grins as the waitress moves on to Ian and leans over, whispering into Billy's ear. "It's been three months tonight since you lost your virginity."
Billy's beer goes down the wrong tube, and it's a full three minutes before he quits hacking. Astin looks concerned, but Billy waves him off.
"Wanker," he hisses when everyone has gone back to ignoring them. "I did not lose my virginity. That was with Samantha Cox when I was fifteen."
"Oh, beg pardon. Cox, was it? Interesting name. An omen, you might…"
Billy smacks him on the knee, and Dom shuts up, not because of that but due to Elijah, who's tugging at his arm and asking him to help relay a story to Dave and Karl, who are seated across the table and down two seats from them. Billy ignores them and starts rubbing his thumb in little circles on Dom's knee, just to get him back.
Across the table from Billy, Miranda and Fran are having a discussion about Eowyn's dresses, which is too boring for Billy to join in, but he watches them with that glazed over look that could be construed as to staring into space, not looking rather specifically at Miranda's hands. He's always been fascinated by hands, by a woman's hands - the slender fingers, the longer nails, the way they land so gracefully on a tabletop or the woman's own thigh. He had a girlfriend once who was a bit of an exhibitionist, and she didn't mind if he watched, right up close, as she pleasured herself. He was fascinated by the sight of slim fingers, the nails painted with chipped black varnish, rubbing over the fleshy little mound of her clit and slipping in between her folds, only to reappear in his line of vision looking just a bit wrinkly and covered with a thin sheen of fluid.
He thinks fondly back to that girlfriend and it occurs to him, his hand travelling unconsciously higher up on Dom's leg, Dom shifting forward without a break in his sentence to accommodate Billy's wishes, that Dom is in ways a lot like her. Hilarious, a little dangerous, great smile and a great body and a bit of a penchant for things that are dirty and scandalous. He tries to imagine Dom with jet-black hair like hers, but he can't quite manage it, and starts laughing.
"All right, love?" Miranda asks with a bemused smile, and he waves her off with a hand.
"Oh, don't mind him," Dom answers, injecting himself into their conversation with a grin, leaning forward and "whispering" to Miranda. "It's best to ignore the symptoms, let them sort themselves out. It'll go away on its own once he has his medication." Billy pinches the inside of Dom's thigh, hard, and Dom nearly upsets his glass when he jumps, saved only by Billy's quick reflexes. Billy grins at Dom as he raises his hand to his mouth and licks the trails of beer away.
"Tease," Dom says out loud, and everyone around them laughs. It still throws Billy off a bit, how Dom continues to make certain comments in public even though they're true now, and it's not just Dom trying to rattle Billy or desperately remind Billy of Dom's bisexuality or whatever all of that was before the cottage, where it all fell into place. He manages a roll of his eyes, hoping the flush in his cheeks isn't visible, and nods gratefully to Andy when he says he's going to the bar and asks if they want another pitcher.
"Do you have any plans after we wrap?" Miranda asks, and Billy shrugs his shoulders.
"I'll go back to Scotland. Try to find another job, I suppose." He doesn't really want to think about it, in fact - he's been enjoying denial - but he doesn't want to be rude.
"Is there much in the way of theatre in Glasgow?" she asks, sipping at her beer. "I can't say I know anything about it."
"Aye, there's some. The Pantheon company, and then there are some good companies in Edinburgh. I'll likely go back to it, unless any film scripts fall across my lap. My agent tells me not to count on it," he says with a self-deprecating smirk.
"Then you should fire the bitch," Dom chimes in, and Billy stares at him.
"Dominic!"
"What? You're incredibly talented. Isn't he incredibly talented, M'randa?"
"Incredibly, yes," she agrees, smiling with a bemused look.
"It's true. I'm an expert on this."
"You're a Billy-expert?" Fran asks, grinning a little. Billy eyes her suspiciously.
"I am!" Dom agrees whole-heartedly, wrapping an arm around Billy's shoulders. Fortunately, Andy returns with the beer then, and Billy has something to do with his hands. He's decided that petting Dom under the table only encourages him, and he lets Dom touch him in the usual ways in full view, feeling that it's safer somehow. After a few minutes, the food comes, and it smells fantastic.
"Fuck!" Dom shouts, letting a half-eaten piece of fried oyster fall back into the paper-lined red plastic basket.
"Well that's attractive," Billy comments dryly. "Is it bad, then?"
"Nugh! S'haawt!"
"Excuse me?"
Dom takes a sip from Billy's beer and repeats himself. "It's hot!"
"Yes, Dominic," Billy says slowly, the corners of his mouth curling up. "It came from a hob."
"Oh, bugger off," Dom grumbles. Billy smiles and gives his thigh a quick, friendly rub.
"Want some fish?"
"What, is it not hot?"
"I'm afraid it is."
"Well that just won't do."
Billy laughs. "Would it kill you to wait two minutes?"
"Yes. I'm hungry."
"Here," Billy offers, plucking the lemon wedge from the rim of his water glass. "Eat this." Completely unexpectedly, Dom squeezes the lemon juice onto Billy's neck and sucks it off.
"I said eat it!" Billy yelps. "Not take a body shot off me with it!"
If not many members of their party noticed Dom's little caper, they certainly notice Billy's exclamation, and nearly everyone stops talking and turns to face him.
"Erm…"
"I told you an evening out would offer amusements untold," Ian says cheerfully to Nick, whom he's brought along for once rather than keeping him hidden in the big house near the beach.
"I didn't doubt you," Nick says, raising his beer to Billy, who turns bright red. Dom's still laughing, his face pressed into Billy's neck again.
"You can eat your bloody oysters now," Billy mutters. The others go back to their conversations, and Dom grins against his neck.
"Oysters are an aphrodisiac," he whispers.
"I’m not talking to you."
"Vee have vays," Dom replies, and then indeed goes back to his oysters. Billy picks the discarded lemon up out of Dom's basket and squirts it on his fish, and tries to ignore the warmth under his skin. It's generally best that way.