Book 2, Chapter 13: Blue in the Broad Light of Day (2/2)
Title: Blue in the Broad Light of Day (2)
Authors: kiltsandlollies
Characters: Billy/Dominic
Word count: 3061
Summary: Continues from here.
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.
Dominic’s confusion rises and falls as they walk; Billy can hear it in the way Dominic’s breath goes sharp as he tries to form the question. Billy has an answer for him, but it’s not going to be given just yet, perhaps not for several long minutes. Instead Billy keeps walking, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets, walking at a clip he normally reserves for the last two blocks before a bookstore, and he doesn’t look back to be sure Dominic is following. There’s no question he is or that he wants to.
Still, Dominic glances this way and that between steps, trying to gauge where Billy’s head’s at and what's triggered this sudden need for escape. That’s what it is, Dominic can tell; even though Billy’d sounded calm and distanced in the classroom, Dominic had seen the same flash and flare in Billy’s eyes that he’d noticed on the way to that castle weeks and weeks ago, the same restless edge in Billy’s posture and pace. It’s not nerves, so Dominic assures himself that neither of them is in any sort of actual trouble, and it’s not anger; it’s something else, something so contained that Dominic feels the strange urge to tear it from Billy, to set whatever it is loose, with possibly brilliant consequences.
When Billy turns profile at a set of stairs on the older side of the building-the part of it that remains almost windowless, darkened, and cool, the only place here that doesn’t carry the scent of chemicals and fear, and the only place Dominic imagines Billy would find appealing at all here-Dominic watches Billy round the corner, finally looking over his shoulder to find Dominic still very close, his eyes still very bright. Billy moves down the stairs quickly, two easy flights to the basement and in the direction of the offices abandoned now that the science department's looking forward to its new building. Billy makes an educated guess at a smallish room and finds an office emptied but for an enormous, pretty if beaten-up wood desk, a chair and a floor lamp dusty with age. Billy pushes Dominic inside the room with only a small, impatient touch to his back, and then locks the door behind them, thrilled but fighting to keep himself steady-to stick with the plan, he reminds himself tersely.
“Clothes off, Dominic,” he murmurs, reaching to switch on the lamp and pleased when its light shows itself faint and golden, so much better than the florescence overwhelming the rest of this building. Billy’s hands move back inside his pockets, curling around the cuffs he’s carried like talismans since his detour back to his office, and bringing them out to show Dominic. “And against the desk, hmm?”
Dominic’s quick to move at Billy’s words, quicker still at the sight of the cuffs, lovely and different from the heavier things Billy had used to restrain him at the house. These are softer, too, Dominic can already tell, still wide and strong and bearing clasps that won't likely allow Dominic to forget they're there, but the leather's thin enough that he could wear them without attracting the wrong sort of attention. Dominic’s grin is one of satisfaction and greed at once-an expression Billy's pleased and amused to see move across his face-while Billy’s is thinner, spreading slowly, simmering like the rest of him while he waits for Dominic to lean against the desk and turn his hands palms up toward Billy.
Which he does, and rather gracefully too, Billy thinks, considering how eager they both are now. Dominic’s eyes are flinty, darting now between the cuffs and Billy’s face, but Billy pretends not to notice; he’s mostly absorbed with getting the cuffs to remain as tight around Dominic wrists as possible without leaving problematic marks. When Dominic exhales harshly on a sharp pull of the leather and buckle, the breath ending in a mild curse, Billy raises his eyebrows and presses just that much harder in warning for both of them.
“Save it,” he says softly. “Make sure it’s worth your energy if you’ve got something to say.”
Dominic grins again, but it’s a just a flash of teeth and tongue before he calms, and Billy releases a little exhale of his own in approval before he nods and turns Dominic, pressing Dominic's hands down to the desk where he wants them. Dominic's back arches as he settles into the position-that slow full body tease Billy enjoys along with everything else about Dominic-and his fingers flex as if readying themselves for more. Billy knows Dominic’s fingernails are scratching lightly into the wood, testing its splintery give, and Billy’s content with that; he can use the time to his advantage, too, enjoying the view of Dominic’s perfect ass in the air and his strong thighs spreading as if Billy’s gaze alone had compelled them to do so. Perhaps, Billy thinks, it had.
Most of the marks Billy had left on Dominic’s body are long gone now, or faded to mere suggestions. The fourth matchstrike, low and to the left at the small of Dominic’s back, remains most visible, and Billy’s fingers press against it before he has time to think about what he’s doing. Dominic doesn’t move; he just breathes deep and hard and arches a little more, exhaling when Billy’s hand flattens firmly on his back. He can feel Billy’s eyes on him, warm and searching, approving; Dominic hides his smile and knows he’s in no real danger here other than the kind he loves to feel.
There’s no hesitation after that, no reason for Billy to just stand and watch when he can take and have what he couldn’t earlier this morning. Billy’s still running somewhat on that earlier adrenaline and coffee, but even more so on the kinetics of denial-possibly the only form of science Billy thinks has yet to be studied in any depth in this building. He moves to Dominic’s side, his hand racing through the back of Dominic’s hair and pressing down, pleased when Dominic tucks his chin to his chest, his eyes focusing on the grain of the desk’s wood. Billy finds he has few words to offer direction or praise, and Billy’s well aware that it’s to Dominic’s credit that he hardly needs to speak at all. He needs to feel, now-nothing more and nothing less.
And so Billy shucks his jacket quickly, loosens his tie and then pulls it off entirely before the thought to use it more creatively forms more fully and nearly sets Billy veering off from his plan. There’s a time and place for such spontaneity, but it’s not now. He removes his belt more slowly, wanting Dominic to hear the leather slide from his trousers, and Billy’s not surprised when Dominic’s skin flushes with clear, sudden need. Billy folds the belt once and turns his wrist sharply, landing the blow before either of them has a chance to wonder at it.
Dominic doesn’t flinch. Not that Billy had expected him to; the hissing breath torn from between Dominic’s gritted teeth had been enough for the moment, and Billy takes it as sign that more will come. For now Billy lets his eyes fall on the wide mark resting across Dominic’s ass prettily, and he swallows hard, thinking he could do more and better if he weren’t already pushing the limits of academic privilege by taking Dominic from his lesson for this: for his own need to erase that feeling of denial, for the better lover’s privilege of giving and taking release, of touching Dominic, of fucking him-privileges Billy will not see extended to anyone else. Billy lets the sting register properly while he places the belt on the desk and unbuttons his shirtcuffs, rolling them up his forearms neatly, as if he’s embarking on some strenuous but formal duty, a task that must be done well, done properly and with appropriate manner of respect and certainty on both sides-on several levels exactly what Billy feels this is and will be.
When Billy’s hands rest on Dominic’s ass, his fingers cool on the overheated skin, Billy feels some of the tension leave Dominic’s body and his own, too. But it’s a momentary thing, and Billy wants Dominic tense, prepared for worse until Billy allows him better, and so he smacks at the inside of Dominic’s thigh, a backhand motion that brushes just beneath Dominic’s balls and makes Dominic release another curse, louder this time, and yes, Billy thinks, very much worth the energy.
It’s simple enough then for Billy to curl his hand around Dominic’s balls, caress turning to massage turning to something harder and then back again, the rhythm never quite perfect or right-anything to keep Dominic off balance and himself on. Dominic’s legs are shaking, but only just, and Billy can hear his breath catching and know that Dominic’s eyes are clenched shut and his concentration is more fierce than he’d been able to conjure in that lab, over a subject less worthy of his attention than this. Billy’s mouthing words he’s grown accustomed to speaking-perfect, there, there you are-but doesn’t allow them to leave his lips and break this moment in any way. Dominic should be able to feel his approval, just as Billy can feel Dominic’s desire for more from the way he leans back carefully into Billy’s touch, so slowly it takes Billy a moment to realize he’s moved at all.
When Billy’s fingers slide back now, they’re slick with Dominic’s sweat and move messily up into the cleft of Dominic’s ass, searching and pressing, demanding as Billy regains his focus, regains control. Dominic shivers and bends lower, a low, throaty cry coming from him when his cock touches the desk. The sound makes Billy swallow with some difficulty, and he pushes at Dominic’s hips before he reaches to open his own trousers.
Billy’s cock is hard, has been for too long, and in his haste to free himself, Billy breathes hard, his mind and heart hissing stick to the plan stick to the plan. And he does, after a fashion; the sachet of lube nearly slips from his grip to the floor, and Billy curses violently before he tears the package open and hopes Dominic won't need more than the little they have to work with. It's more a mental concern than physical; Billy knows Dominic could take him almost dry if the circumstances were right, but he wants to do this as properly as time will allow even as he recognizes that this was never meant to happen slowly, that doing things properly doesn't always mean doing them well-
That Dominic’s whispering don’t care, don’t care, please.
Billy’s hand races up and down his cock, squeezing just beneath the head while Billy wills himself not to think, not to do anything but move forward and sink into Dominic like he’s wanted to all fucking day. It takes longer than Billy wanted, even with Dominic pushing back, greedy and open and more ready than Billy by far. Dominic’s grunts and sighs are louder, clearer, exactly what Billy wanted to hear and more besides, spurring him to move faster. Billy’s hands scrabble at Dominic’s hips, fingers folding hard into his skin, and then he’s there, their bodies flush against each other, and Billy forces them still and just breathes-closes his eyes and breathes and sticks to the plan.
Dominic’s felt this before, this pause while Billy collects himself and keeps them both from moving until he’s ready. Dominic grits his teeth and waits Billy out as he’d done before, knowing it’s for their mutual best but impatient as ever, finally breaking and clenching around Billy just to hear Billy’s gasp of surprise and pleasure. Billy’s thrusts, when they begin again, are hard, ragged things, arrhythmic like the motions of his hand earlier. There’s no point in trying to make this anything but the basest, filthiest and most perfect fuck possible, and they both recognize it. Dominic’s shoulders drop a little under the strain of keeping himself where Billy wants him, the rest of his body following, and the change of angle makes Billy grunt now, too, his fingernails scraping against Dominic as he searches for a better hold. His thighs are aching, screaming in protest, and Billy thinks he’s going to end up staggering back to the Humanities building in only slightly better shape than Dominic will return to his class, but yes, that too will be worth it.
Dominic’s gasping now, his forehead almost touching the desk, and the sweat from his palms is smeared across the wood where his hands have lost and regained their grip. Billy’s getting close, he can feel it; he’s pounding into Dominic between rattled inhales and slurring the low, heated nonsense of demand under his breath, a language Billy sometimes believes he and Dominic alone share. He keeps his eyes open for as long as he can, narrowed and focused on the freckles on Dominic’s back and the trails of sweat running down them, and the persistence pays off when Dominic’s voice cracks and he’s begging again, this time for more and less, for control and release.
For a moment Billy can’t gather his thoughts. He can’t decide what he wants or how, and it’s only with the last of his strength that Billy shakes off the confusion and grits out no and lets his thrusts go short and brutal, so close now he can taste it, closer than Dominic must be or should be. When Billy comes, his fingers once more digging hard into Dominic’s skin and his eyes closed again, blocking out everything else, it’s only seconds before Dominic, and Billy’s not caught his breath back in time to draw anything out any further. He doesn’t have energy for anything but keeping himself from sinking too hard onto Dominic, and keeping Dominic from falling away from him entirely.
For several minutes there’s nothing but the sound of their breaths and pulses slowing. Dominic’s on his elbows, his hands in his hair and his chin tucked into his chest again-recovering, Billy knows; coming back to himself after giving Billy so much so quickly. Billy’s hand strokes down Dominic’s back slowly, the touch meant to say what Billy can’t, until he has to pull away from Dominic and place his feet back firm on the ground before he can ask the same of Dominic.
Billy finds his handkerchief and tidies himself quickly before he moves back to Dominic, with hands that are gentler now. He’s careful to make sure Dominic sees his pleasure, and when it’s returned, Billy leans down to kiss Dominic, until he can feel Dominic’s smile begin to show itself again.
“Hello,” Billy says simply, and Dominic laughs, pulling Billy down for another kiss.
“Hi.” Dominic stretches long on the desk, flexing and relaxing his hands while Billy looks his fill again. “You surprised me.”
Billy nods and looks down, brushing his fingers over Dominic’s stomach. “Not hurt, though-"
“No.” Dominic’s quiet for a moment and then laughs again. “Anything to get out of that class, like.”
Billy laughs too, then shakes his head before he steps back, giving Dominic space to move. It’s hard for Billy to watch Dominic’s careful rise from the desk, and he can’t stop touching Dominic even as Dominic finishes cleaning up and reaches for his clothes, pulling them on at first gingerly, then with the ragged grace Billy tried to capture in the photographs Dominic had begged him to take. The film's in Billy's office now, waiting to be developed in Miranda's darkrooms later this week, and Billy tries not to think about how they'll turn out or how it will feel to see the pictures himself before he gives them to Dominic on the weekend. They'd already planned to drive out of Baskerville for dinner and maybe something more, but Dominic doesn't know yet that he'll get to see the pictures; it will be a surprise, one that Billy hopes will be welcomed.
Billy sags against the desk a little when Dominic faces him again, sliding his arms around Billy’s waist, eager for the kisses and small touches that release them both from this improvised, scattered rendition of what Dominic calls a scene and Billy identifies more abstractedly but no less passionately as play. Billy allows the kisses for a few moments, reaching at the same time to take back the cuffs. Dominic turns his wrists and evades Billy’s grasp, threading his hands up into Billy’s hair instead and meeting his eyes.
“Let me keep them.”
“Y’didn’t have them on you when you left that room, Dom.”
“Are they mine?” Billy blinks at the question, but Dominic holds his gaze before he kisses Billy again, the plea just as quiet and just as strong in the touch of his lips. When Dominic pulls away, Billy nods, relenting and resting his forehead against Dominic’s.
“What happened, Billy?” Dominic asks when the silence between them grows heavy with more than their breaths. Billy closes his eyes and shakes his head, not wanting to explain anything, much less the need he’d felt for contact he wasn’t meant to have until the weekend, until it was safe to do so. Dominic reads Billy’s exhaustion for what it is and much of what it could be, and he nods, letting his hands fall from Billy’s hair to inside the loosened, open collar of his shirt. “Did you want-”
“I’m alright,” Billy says. He’s too tired to offer the right sort of kind words or apologize, and Dominic doesn’t sound or look as if he needs or wants them in any case. “I’ve been worse. Just. Not my best day.” Dominic raises his eyebrows, and Billy chuffs out a laugh and tugs at Dominic’s hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done this.”
“You keep saying that,” Dominic says, but he’s grinning, the tease high in his voice, and Billy surrenders to it, bringing Dominic down for one last kiss, pulling away with a regret he hasn’t felt this hard in a very long time.
“Not hurt?” Billy asks him again, and Dominic shakes his head just once before Billy takes a deep breath. “Then get y’self back to class,” he murmurs, and with a softer, utterly comprehending smile, Dominic does just that.
Authors: kiltsandlollies
Characters: Billy/Dominic
Word count: 3061
Summary: Continues from here.
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.
Dominic’s confusion rises and falls as they walk; Billy can hear it in the way Dominic’s breath goes sharp as he tries to form the question. Billy has an answer for him, but it’s not going to be given just yet, perhaps not for several long minutes. Instead Billy keeps walking, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets, walking at a clip he normally reserves for the last two blocks before a bookstore, and he doesn’t look back to be sure Dominic is following. There’s no question he is or that he wants to.
Still, Dominic glances this way and that between steps, trying to gauge where Billy’s head’s at and what's triggered this sudden need for escape. That’s what it is, Dominic can tell; even though Billy’d sounded calm and distanced in the classroom, Dominic had seen the same flash and flare in Billy’s eyes that he’d noticed on the way to that castle weeks and weeks ago, the same restless edge in Billy’s posture and pace. It’s not nerves, so Dominic assures himself that neither of them is in any sort of actual trouble, and it’s not anger; it’s something else, something so contained that Dominic feels the strange urge to tear it from Billy, to set whatever it is loose, with possibly brilliant consequences.
When Billy turns profile at a set of stairs on the older side of the building-the part of it that remains almost windowless, darkened, and cool, the only place here that doesn’t carry the scent of chemicals and fear, and the only place Dominic imagines Billy would find appealing at all here-Dominic watches Billy round the corner, finally looking over his shoulder to find Dominic still very close, his eyes still very bright. Billy moves down the stairs quickly, two easy flights to the basement and in the direction of the offices abandoned now that the science department's looking forward to its new building. Billy makes an educated guess at a smallish room and finds an office emptied but for an enormous, pretty if beaten-up wood desk, a chair and a floor lamp dusty with age. Billy pushes Dominic inside the room with only a small, impatient touch to his back, and then locks the door behind them, thrilled but fighting to keep himself steady-to stick with the plan, he reminds himself tersely.
“Clothes off, Dominic,” he murmurs, reaching to switch on the lamp and pleased when its light shows itself faint and golden, so much better than the florescence overwhelming the rest of this building. Billy’s hands move back inside his pockets, curling around the cuffs he’s carried like talismans since his detour back to his office, and bringing them out to show Dominic. “And against the desk, hmm?”
Dominic’s quick to move at Billy’s words, quicker still at the sight of the cuffs, lovely and different from the heavier things Billy had used to restrain him at the house. These are softer, too, Dominic can already tell, still wide and strong and bearing clasps that won't likely allow Dominic to forget they're there, but the leather's thin enough that he could wear them without attracting the wrong sort of attention. Dominic’s grin is one of satisfaction and greed at once-an expression Billy's pleased and amused to see move across his face-while Billy’s is thinner, spreading slowly, simmering like the rest of him while he waits for Dominic to lean against the desk and turn his hands palms up toward Billy.
Which he does, and rather gracefully too, Billy thinks, considering how eager they both are now. Dominic’s eyes are flinty, darting now between the cuffs and Billy’s face, but Billy pretends not to notice; he’s mostly absorbed with getting the cuffs to remain as tight around Dominic wrists as possible without leaving problematic marks. When Dominic exhales harshly on a sharp pull of the leather and buckle, the breath ending in a mild curse, Billy raises his eyebrows and presses just that much harder in warning for both of them.
“Save it,” he says softly. “Make sure it’s worth your energy if you’ve got something to say.”
Dominic grins again, but it’s a just a flash of teeth and tongue before he calms, and Billy releases a little exhale of his own in approval before he nods and turns Dominic, pressing Dominic's hands down to the desk where he wants them. Dominic's back arches as he settles into the position-that slow full body tease Billy enjoys along with everything else about Dominic-and his fingers flex as if readying themselves for more. Billy knows Dominic’s fingernails are scratching lightly into the wood, testing its splintery give, and Billy’s content with that; he can use the time to his advantage, too, enjoying the view of Dominic’s perfect ass in the air and his strong thighs spreading as if Billy’s gaze alone had compelled them to do so. Perhaps, Billy thinks, it had.
Most of the marks Billy had left on Dominic’s body are long gone now, or faded to mere suggestions. The fourth matchstrike, low and to the left at the small of Dominic’s back, remains most visible, and Billy’s fingers press against it before he has time to think about what he’s doing. Dominic doesn’t move; he just breathes deep and hard and arches a little more, exhaling when Billy’s hand flattens firmly on his back. He can feel Billy’s eyes on him, warm and searching, approving; Dominic hides his smile and knows he’s in no real danger here other than the kind he loves to feel.
There’s no hesitation after that, no reason for Billy to just stand and watch when he can take and have what he couldn’t earlier this morning. Billy’s still running somewhat on that earlier adrenaline and coffee, but even more so on the kinetics of denial-possibly the only form of science Billy thinks has yet to be studied in any depth in this building. He moves to Dominic’s side, his hand racing through the back of Dominic’s hair and pressing down, pleased when Dominic tucks his chin to his chest, his eyes focusing on the grain of the desk’s wood. Billy finds he has few words to offer direction or praise, and Billy’s well aware that it’s to Dominic’s credit that he hardly needs to speak at all. He needs to feel, now-nothing more and nothing less.
And so Billy shucks his jacket quickly, loosens his tie and then pulls it off entirely before the thought to use it more creatively forms more fully and nearly sets Billy veering off from his plan. There’s a time and place for such spontaneity, but it’s not now. He removes his belt more slowly, wanting Dominic to hear the leather slide from his trousers, and Billy’s not surprised when Dominic’s skin flushes with clear, sudden need. Billy folds the belt once and turns his wrist sharply, landing the blow before either of them has a chance to wonder at it.
Dominic doesn’t flinch. Not that Billy had expected him to; the hissing breath torn from between Dominic’s gritted teeth had been enough for the moment, and Billy takes it as sign that more will come. For now Billy lets his eyes fall on the wide mark resting across Dominic’s ass prettily, and he swallows hard, thinking he could do more and better if he weren’t already pushing the limits of academic privilege by taking Dominic from his lesson for this: for his own need to erase that feeling of denial, for the better lover’s privilege of giving and taking release, of touching Dominic, of fucking him-privileges Billy will not see extended to anyone else. Billy lets the sting register properly while he places the belt on the desk and unbuttons his shirtcuffs, rolling them up his forearms neatly, as if he’s embarking on some strenuous but formal duty, a task that must be done well, done properly and with appropriate manner of respect and certainty on both sides-on several levels exactly what Billy feels this is and will be.
When Billy’s hands rest on Dominic’s ass, his fingers cool on the overheated skin, Billy feels some of the tension leave Dominic’s body and his own, too. But it’s a momentary thing, and Billy wants Dominic tense, prepared for worse until Billy allows him better, and so he smacks at the inside of Dominic’s thigh, a backhand motion that brushes just beneath Dominic’s balls and makes Dominic release another curse, louder this time, and yes, Billy thinks, very much worth the energy.
It’s simple enough then for Billy to curl his hand around Dominic’s balls, caress turning to massage turning to something harder and then back again, the rhythm never quite perfect or right-anything to keep Dominic off balance and himself on. Dominic’s legs are shaking, but only just, and Billy can hear his breath catching and know that Dominic’s eyes are clenched shut and his concentration is more fierce than he’d been able to conjure in that lab, over a subject less worthy of his attention than this. Billy’s mouthing words he’s grown accustomed to speaking-perfect, there, there you are-but doesn’t allow them to leave his lips and break this moment in any way. Dominic should be able to feel his approval, just as Billy can feel Dominic’s desire for more from the way he leans back carefully into Billy’s touch, so slowly it takes Billy a moment to realize he’s moved at all.
When Billy’s fingers slide back now, they’re slick with Dominic’s sweat and move messily up into the cleft of Dominic’s ass, searching and pressing, demanding as Billy regains his focus, regains control. Dominic shivers and bends lower, a low, throaty cry coming from him when his cock touches the desk. The sound makes Billy swallow with some difficulty, and he pushes at Dominic’s hips before he reaches to open his own trousers.
Billy’s cock is hard, has been for too long, and in his haste to free himself, Billy breathes hard, his mind and heart hissing stick to the plan stick to the plan. And he does, after a fashion; the sachet of lube nearly slips from his grip to the floor, and Billy curses violently before he tears the package open and hopes Dominic won't need more than the little they have to work with. It's more a mental concern than physical; Billy knows Dominic could take him almost dry if the circumstances were right, but he wants to do this as properly as time will allow even as he recognizes that this was never meant to happen slowly, that doing things properly doesn't always mean doing them well-
That Dominic’s whispering don’t care, don’t care, please.
Billy’s hand races up and down his cock, squeezing just beneath the head while Billy wills himself not to think, not to do anything but move forward and sink into Dominic like he’s wanted to all fucking day. It takes longer than Billy wanted, even with Dominic pushing back, greedy and open and more ready than Billy by far. Dominic’s grunts and sighs are louder, clearer, exactly what Billy wanted to hear and more besides, spurring him to move faster. Billy’s hands scrabble at Dominic’s hips, fingers folding hard into his skin, and then he’s there, their bodies flush against each other, and Billy forces them still and just breathes-closes his eyes and breathes and sticks to the plan.
Dominic’s felt this before, this pause while Billy collects himself and keeps them both from moving until he’s ready. Dominic grits his teeth and waits Billy out as he’d done before, knowing it’s for their mutual best but impatient as ever, finally breaking and clenching around Billy just to hear Billy’s gasp of surprise and pleasure. Billy’s thrusts, when they begin again, are hard, ragged things, arrhythmic like the motions of his hand earlier. There’s no point in trying to make this anything but the basest, filthiest and most perfect fuck possible, and they both recognize it. Dominic’s shoulders drop a little under the strain of keeping himself where Billy wants him, the rest of his body following, and the change of angle makes Billy grunt now, too, his fingernails scraping against Dominic as he searches for a better hold. His thighs are aching, screaming in protest, and Billy thinks he’s going to end up staggering back to the Humanities building in only slightly better shape than Dominic will return to his class, but yes, that too will be worth it.
Dominic’s gasping now, his forehead almost touching the desk, and the sweat from his palms is smeared across the wood where his hands have lost and regained their grip. Billy’s getting close, he can feel it; he’s pounding into Dominic between rattled inhales and slurring the low, heated nonsense of demand under his breath, a language Billy sometimes believes he and Dominic alone share. He keeps his eyes open for as long as he can, narrowed and focused on the freckles on Dominic’s back and the trails of sweat running down them, and the persistence pays off when Dominic’s voice cracks and he’s begging again, this time for more and less, for control and release.
For a moment Billy can’t gather his thoughts. He can’t decide what he wants or how, and it’s only with the last of his strength that Billy shakes off the confusion and grits out no and lets his thrusts go short and brutal, so close now he can taste it, closer than Dominic must be or should be. When Billy comes, his fingers once more digging hard into Dominic’s skin and his eyes closed again, blocking out everything else, it’s only seconds before Dominic, and Billy’s not caught his breath back in time to draw anything out any further. He doesn’t have energy for anything but keeping himself from sinking too hard onto Dominic, and keeping Dominic from falling away from him entirely.
For several minutes there’s nothing but the sound of their breaths and pulses slowing. Dominic’s on his elbows, his hands in his hair and his chin tucked into his chest again-recovering, Billy knows; coming back to himself after giving Billy so much so quickly. Billy’s hand strokes down Dominic’s back slowly, the touch meant to say what Billy can’t, until he has to pull away from Dominic and place his feet back firm on the ground before he can ask the same of Dominic.
Billy finds his handkerchief and tidies himself quickly before he moves back to Dominic, with hands that are gentler now. He’s careful to make sure Dominic sees his pleasure, and when it’s returned, Billy leans down to kiss Dominic, until he can feel Dominic’s smile begin to show itself again.
“Hello,” Billy says simply, and Dominic laughs, pulling Billy down for another kiss.
“Hi.” Dominic stretches long on the desk, flexing and relaxing his hands while Billy looks his fill again. “You surprised me.”
Billy nods and looks down, brushing his fingers over Dominic’s stomach. “Not hurt, though-"
“No.” Dominic’s quiet for a moment and then laughs again. “Anything to get out of that class, like.”
Billy laughs too, then shakes his head before he steps back, giving Dominic space to move. It’s hard for Billy to watch Dominic’s careful rise from the desk, and he can’t stop touching Dominic even as Dominic finishes cleaning up and reaches for his clothes, pulling them on at first gingerly, then with the ragged grace Billy tried to capture in the photographs Dominic had begged him to take. The film's in Billy's office now, waiting to be developed in Miranda's darkrooms later this week, and Billy tries not to think about how they'll turn out or how it will feel to see the pictures himself before he gives them to Dominic on the weekend. They'd already planned to drive out of Baskerville for dinner and maybe something more, but Dominic doesn't know yet that he'll get to see the pictures; it will be a surprise, one that Billy hopes will be welcomed.
Billy sags against the desk a little when Dominic faces him again, sliding his arms around Billy’s waist, eager for the kisses and small touches that release them both from this improvised, scattered rendition of what Dominic calls a scene and Billy identifies more abstractedly but no less passionately as play. Billy allows the kisses for a few moments, reaching at the same time to take back the cuffs. Dominic turns his wrists and evades Billy’s grasp, threading his hands up into Billy’s hair instead and meeting his eyes.
“Let me keep them.”
“Y’didn’t have them on you when you left that room, Dom.”
“Are they mine?” Billy blinks at the question, but Dominic holds his gaze before he kisses Billy again, the plea just as quiet and just as strong in the touch of his lips. When Dominic pulls away, Billy nods, relenting and resting his forehead against Dominic’s.
“What happened, Billy?” Dominic asks when the silence between them grows heavy with more than their breaths. Billy closes his eyes and shakes his head, not wanting to explain anything, much less the need he’d felt for contact he wasn’t meant to have until the weekend, until it was safe to do so. Dominic reads Billy’s exhaustion for what it is and much of what it could be, and he nods, letting his hands fall from Billy’s hair to inside the loosened, open collar of his shirt. “Did you want-”
“I’m alright,” Billy says. He’s too tired to offer the right sort of kind words or apologize, and Dominic doesn’t sound or look as if he needs or wants them in any case. “I’ve been worse. Just. Not my best day.” Dominic raises his eyebrows, and Billy chuffs out a laugh and tugs at Dominic’s hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done this.”
“You keep saying that,” Dominic says, but he’s grinning, the tease high in his voice, and Billy surrenders to it, bringing Dominic down for one last kiss, pulling away with a regret he hasn’t felt this hard in a very long time.
“Not hurt?” Billy asks him again, and Dominic shakes his head just once before Billy takes a deep breath. “Then get y’self back to class,” he murmurs, and with a softer, utterly comprehending smile, Dominic does just that.