Book 2, Chapter 14: A Pressure Drop
Title: A Pressure Drop
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Billy/Dominic
Word count: 4809
Summary: Dinner a deux.
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 steps back into the shadows at the sight of headlights too bright and too high off the ground to be Billy's. He's been waiting, far enough away from the residence halls and hopefully anyone he might know, for nearly twenty minutes for Billy to pick him up. This isn't something they usually do--arrange to have Billy pick him up from campus rather than Dominic making his way to Billy's back door--but then there have been a lot of things they've done in the last few weeks that they haven't done before. Dominic's felt caught between being shocked by Billy's bravado and wanting to push it just a little further, as far as he thinks he can, but it's as if while Billy has gotten bolder, Dominic's become more anxious--fearful, actually, that something will happen to end this, their relationship. He's particularly nervous that someone he knows--or worse, someone Billy knows--will see them, but he's excited, too, to be doing something out in the open. Kind of. Nearly so.
Another car passes, this one going too fast, and Dominic stays back hidden beneath the low hanging branches. He spreads his hand down his tie, twice, then begins to gnaw on his fingernail. Billy's late, but then he'd said he would be. Dominic resists the urge to check his watch and instead tries to practice some of the patience that Billy's tried to teach. Earlier, there had just been time for a few words between himself and Billy after class to arrange things, with Dominic leaned over his paper while Billy'd pretended to make suggestions for revisions. And then Billy had placed a light hand on Dominic's lower back, a touch that had lingered a bit longer than maybe was safe. Dominic thinks he can almost still feel it, and he shivers a bit in the cool night air.
Another few minutes and then Dominic can again see headlights at the top of the street, this time lower and wider, more likely to be those of Billy's old BMW, but Dominic still waits in the shadows until he's sure. His fingers curl and straighten against his leg in nervousness, his heart giving a ridiculous little leap when he's finally able to see Billy's face. He moves quickly, then, stepping out and sliding into the passenger seat, pulling the door to gently before he faces Billy and grins at the comparison of Billy's jeans to his own dress trousers, and at Billy's button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Dominic slides his hand down his tie again before he reaches to loosen the knot.
"Leave it," Billy says as he reaches for Dominic's hand, turning it in his own before he pulls Dominic closer.
"I wasn't sure--" Dominic starts, but he's caught off guard and left speechless by the intensity of Billy's gaze. Dominic swallows hard and sets his jaw, determined not to let his nerves overwhelm him. "Do you recognize it?" he asks instead, lifting the end of the tie and holding it out so that Billy can see it better in the dim light from the street lamp.
Billy's composure breaks a little with his smile, and he tilts his head. He does recognize the fabric and pattern, and has felt it in his fingers probably once a week for the last two years. That Dominic's made away with one of his ties doesn't surprise him; instead, Billy's smile widens and he looks back up at Dominic with just a bit more ferocity in his smile. "Belongs to me, that. 's appropriate."
Dominic grins back, finally relaxing a bit until a car moves past them, slowing--maybe to see if they need assistance, maybe to see if they recognize the driver. Dominic instinctively ducks his head and waits until the other car is further up the street before he looks again at Billy. "We should go."
"I think so, yeah." But Billy reaches for Dominic again and pulls him close by the tie, kisses him. Dominic holds back for only a second before he gives in and reaches for Billy, too. Billy's holding on like he hasn't seen Dominic in weeks, not hours, and it's easy for Dominic to fall into the urgency of Billy's touch.
"We could just go back to your place," Dominic whispers against Billy's lips, but Billy laughs under his breath and pulls away just slightly.
"I've been in meetings for the last three hours," he says, closing his eyes when Dominic leans to press his lips against Billy's throat. "They called me back to the campus after I'd made it home and changed, the bastards. 'm hungry."
"Hmm, me too." Dominic moves to nip at Billy's neck and undo another button on Billy's shirt.
"Different kind of hunger." Billy slides his hand into Dominic's hair and tugs, forcing Dominic away from his pleasurable work to meet Billy's eyes. "For food. We've got a bit of a drive, too."
Dominic's resigned sigh sounds more like the growl of a petulant beast chased off its prey. Billy laughs again and tugs harder before he gives Dominic a final kiss and pushes him back into his seat, catching his hand when Dominic would reach for him again. "Food first," he says. "Then we'll see what you've earned."
For a while they both just enjoy the drive, Dominic's nerves calming more with each mile Billy puts between them and the campus. Billy drives with ease, moving the car out of Baskerville's limits and through the villages that ring the town. The radio's down low, but suddenly talky in a way that makes Billy frown, and Dominic catches the look just before he reaches for the dial, fiddling with the stations. There's nothing appealing to be heard, so Dominic presses the CD button and hopes for the best, pleased and surprised to hear something happily familiar--Gomez, and a good song, one he knows well.
"I saw them in Manchester. My very first concert."
Billy blinks, shakes his head and smirks a bit. "Thanks for that. I feel older every second now."
Dominic laughs and turns in his seat to better face Billy, drawing a finger gently over Billy's hand on the gear shift. There's a raised scar beneath Billy's knuckles, and Dominic traces it absently before he looks up. "What was yours?"
"Don't remember."
"You do." Dominic shifts again in the seat. "You remember everything that's got to do with music. You must."
"Not everything," Billy says quietly, then takes a deep breath. "Alright, if you're determined to have it, it was Big Country."
"In a big country, dreams stay with you," Dominic warbles above the sound of the radio, laughing out loud at the glare Billy tosses his way. "My mum had their tapes."
"You're not helping. Not in the slightest."
"I'll make it up to you," Dominic laughs again and pushes his hand up into the back of Billy's hair when they reach a stoplight. "I always do."
"Start with telling me what you'd done with yourself this week," Billy says, and then laughs, too. "Well, apart from my class and our little--unscheduled appointment."
Dominic launches into an animated recitation of his week--his classes and the meeting with his German adviser, the pick-up games and the long promised coffee with Orlando. As he warms to his subject, he settles back into against his seat, keeping his hands to himself while Billy drives. He watches Billy carefully, though, cataloging each grin and grimace. He wants Billy's approval and interest, and works for it as he talks. It's not long, though, before Billy is angling the car down several blocks to a narrow side street and finally to their destination, a small out of the way restaurant, not one Dominic knew existed, much less has had reason or chance to enjoy. There's room for only a few cars behind it, and the lot's illuminated by old, lantern-style fixtures that glow a pale orange-yellow, like candlelight, Dominic thinks as he and Billy make their way to the building.
Billy's stride is familiar one to Dominic's eyes--the pace of a man both tremendously greedy and immensely satisfied--and Dominic's happy to watch him, only noticing just before they walk inside that Billy's brought one of his leather folders from work. It's on the tip of Dominic's tongue to ask why, but Billy turns to him with a lopsided smile as if he's terribly proud of himself for finding such a hidden treasure of a place, and Dominic forgets about the folder at the sight. Billy looks like he's been here before, but Dominic decides not to think about with whom; Billy makes it easier for him by holding his stare and smile, guiding Dominic forward. Inside the restaurant it's dark, the surroundings quiet and intimate but not formal--no one blinks at Billy's jeans or Dominic's tie, or at the sight of Billy's hand curving slightly around Dominic's back as they move to their table.
Billy nods for Dominic to choose them a wine when it's asked of them, and Dominic takes more than a little pride in his suggestion. He'd learned enough at two jobs in a bar and one summer stint at a restaurant to choose wisely, and Billy's enjoyed bottles he's selected before on more than a few of their evenings in. It's Billy who suggests their meal, though, certain of what's best and what'll go well with Dominic's pick. The practicalities out of the way, Billy folds his arms across his chest a bit and leans in across their small table to focus hard on Dominic again.
"And your essay, Dom? On Rilke?"
"Haven't got it back yet." Dominic drums his fingers on the table lightly, then settles under Billy's gaze. "'m not worried. My professor's told me about this contest, though; she thinks I might have a shot at it." Dominic reaches to muss the back of his hair, looking at Billy from under his lashes. "Won't be till next term, and there's a long judging process, but--"
"It's poetry?"
Dominic nods. "Two poems or a criticism."
"And the prize?" Billy raises his eyebrows, and Dominic shakes his head.
"Just a bit of money, but you get published. It's not really going to happen--I mean, I'll do it--"
"Of course you will." Billy rests his chin on one hand. "And it'll be brilliant. The exercise alone's worth your trouble, Dom."
Another nod, and then Dominic laughs. "You won't get a vote, though, Billy. The poems'll be in German."
"You can translate for me, if you'd like. Or you can leave me in the dark, and I can applaud the effort just the same. I am eager to see your mark on that Rilke essay, though,” Billy murmurs and tilts his head. "Again, if you want to share it. You’re certainly not obligated to. Mind you,” Billy laughs, “As your advisor I’m in a position to find out about your marks from the horses’ mouths, as it were. Not that I plan to make a practice of it, let’s be clear. That’ll only happen if you seem to be faltering, Dom. I don’t like to breathe down students’ necks.”
“Well--" Dominic begins and blushes again, but his smile is wide and fierce.
“Don’t try to distract me. Plenty of time for that later.” Billy takes a generous sip of his wine. “D’you like it here?”
“Yeah. 's nice. It’s private, I guess.” Dominic looks around, and then slides his hand across the table slowly to push his fingers slightly between Billy’s. “It feels safe.”
“It is.” Billy threads their fingers together more tightly and then relaxes them, releasing Dominic and reaching again for his glass.
“You’ve come here a lot?” Dominic asks the question calmly, but Billy’s eyes flicker up and catch Dominic’s darting around the room again.
“Not anytime recently.”
Dominic doesn’t want to push, but the words come out too quickly. “But before--"
“I think you forget sometimes how much older than you I actually am, Dom,” Billy says quietly. “There’s a lot of before to my life. I don’t focus on it when I have something better in the here and now.”
After a moment’s silence, Dominic nods and reaches for his own glass, smiling at Billy from above its lip. “To here and now, yeah?”
“To here and now.”
The meal is delicious, delicately prepared, Dominic notes, and again takes a moment to wonder how many times in the past Billy has been here, and with whom. It bothers him, the lot of before of Billy's life that he doesn't know about and that Billy doesn't seem willing to share. It always seems to Dominic that no matter how close he comes, there is always something there between them--age or experience, Dominic's not sure which, but he wishes he could broach it, become indispensable to Billy's life. He wishes he could honestly do as they just toasted--live in the here and now--but he finds it nearly impossible.
"You've gone quiet on me," Billy says, interrupting Dominic's thoughts. "Is your meal alright?"
"It's great." Dominic takes another bite as if to prove that he likes it, then puts his fork down, distracted again. He retreats to the one thing he's sure of: that Billy wants Dominic in his bed if nowhere else. "But I think I'm ready for something else."
"Greedy."
Dominic opens his mouth to say more but the waiter is suddenly and silently at their side again. Billy's tempted by the man's suggestion of a second glass, but he shakes his head no, choosing coffee for them both instead. It's been a long week, and while Billy would love to unravel slowly over the course of an entire bottle or more between himself and Dominic, there's still the drive back, and whatever the occasion might demand of them once they're home. The server disappears again, and as he does, Billy's attention returns to Dominic, his eyes soft but the look of them intense enough that Dominic's made nervous again. Before he can stop himself Dominic moves to slide his hand back down his tie, but Billy catches his hand and turns it upward, visibly if silently pleased when Dominic's fingers relax and open for him. Billy pushes Dominic's sleeve up gently and moves his fingers beneath the leather cuff to scratch at Dominic's skin.
"You've kept them on."
Dominic blushes but nods, unafraid to admit to it. "Just the one most days. I like them. I don't like not having at least one."
"And what is it they do for you, hmm?"
Dominic blinks, holds his breath a bit and worries about telling the truth; instead, he does the best he can. "Remind me of what you can do--what we can do together, you know. What we've done."
Billy considers that, humming a little under his breath as he absently tests the clasp, his fingers scratching again lightly beneath the cuff. "What we did the other day, Dom--tell me what you were thinking when you left that room, when you went back to your class."
"I was thinking that the last place I wanted to be was in that lab."
Billy smiles but tugs at the cuff so that it digs into Dominic's wrist, the pretty little thing turning hard and unyielding. "You didn't even question me, Dom; you just followed. It's dangerous, that."
"I trust you." Dominic chances a smile, but his cheeks are flushed harder than before, his body responding to Billy's tug at his wrist. “And like I said, anything to get out of that class.”
Billy’s smile fades, and he finally looks away from Dominic for a moment. “And your teacher?”
“Assistant. She didn’t say anything. I got right back to it, Billy. Didn’t want to, but I did.” Dominic laughs. “We only had about ten minutes left anyway.”
“No, surely I didn’t keep you away that long--”
“There might’ve been a detour,” Dominic says, more softly, and it’s Billy’s turn to blush, nerves and apology in his eyes. Dominic shakes his head and turns his hand so it’s almost cupping Billy’s. “Don’t. I told you I could handle anything you throw at me, Billy.”
“I think you actually believe that,” Billy sighs. “Alright. But for those ten minutes--”
"It was brilliant," Dominic interrupts him, the confidence returned to his voice. "I felt brilliant. My thoughts were--more settled, like, afterward, more focused. I could've moved mountains."
"You can do that without any intervention from me." Billy nods as the waiter returns with their coffee, thanking the man quietly before he takes up the mug. "Look, I don't ask out of just curiosity. I've never done anything like that, and it cannot-I can't do that again to you."
Dominic nods, understanding it was a huge risk the first time, and a second would be too much, even for them. He drums his fingers on the table nervously again as Billy drinks his coffee, and he looks for the right way to form his next words. “Can I ask--you don’t normally--”
“Careful,” Billy laughs into his mug. “There is nothing normal to be said of me, Dom.”
“Can I ask what happened?” When Billy looks up, eyebrows raised, Dominic continues. “Before you came to get me. You had a meeting--”
“The story of my life.”
“This was different.” The certainty in Dominic’s voice makes Billy swallow hard, and Dominic pushes on while he has the chance. “I loved it, Billy, I did, okay. I just thought there was something more you wanted--”
“I wanted you,” Billy says, too calmly for Dominic’s liking. “That wasn’t enough?”
“No, it was. It is. I should have said needed. I’m trying to say it right, Billy.” Dominic swallows and looks down at his still open hand, at the cuff, and lowers his voice almost to nothing. “You make it hard sometimes.”
Billy blinks and goes very still, absorbing the hit. “Unintentionally, Dominic, you must know that.”
Dominic nods. “I do, yeah. I would’ve followed you back to the trees, too, Billy.” Billy blinks again, and Dominic drags another smile from the depths to ease the tension between them gently. “You had a leaf in your hair. And your hands were dirty. They’re never dirty.” Dominic pauses and flexes his fingers so they brush against Billy’s. “I would’ve gone home with you if you needed that. I want to make sure you know that.”
Billy nods, too, and then ducks his head a bit. “Of course.”
There's another long moment of quiet between them before Billy pushes his coffee to one side of the table, and takes up the leather folder he'd brought inside with them. Dominic watches from above his mug of coffee and doesn't blink when Billy meets his eyes.
"I have something for you."
"You didn't have to--" Dominic begins, but goes silent when Billy produces the envelope. Instinctively Dominic knows what's inside, and he swallows, staring at Billy's fingers near the envelope's catch. Chemical burn, he thinks suddenly, remembering the feel of that raised scar on Billy's hand; Billy must have been distracted while he'd developed the pictures, and now they're both marked as a result of what they'd done that night.
"Your pictures," Billy says quietly. He doesn't offer Dominic the photographs just yet; instead he waits for Dominic to meet his gaze again and hold it before he continues. "I don't know that I agree a picture tells ten words, much less a thousand. These are not going to tell you the full story, Dominic; you need to understand that. I want you to remember the rest of it. I want you to remember the way you felt, not-" Billy's mouth turns a little at its corner, twisting. "This. These. It’s more than what a photograph can show you. It has to be."
"It was more," Dominic says, turning his own intensity on Billy, his fingers turning and trapping Billy's. Billy doesn’t flinch or pull away, but Dominic can see the rise of gooseflesh on Billy’s forearms and the flush deepen in his throat.
"They're yours," Billy tells him. "Ours, I suppose, but for you. And I want--" Billy hesitates and frowns again, then lets his shoulders drop and exhales. "I can't force your word from you that you'll take care with these, Dom, but I want it; I'm asking that you do anyway. I'm trusting that you will."
"I will." The words rush quietly out of Dominic, and his eyes flicker from Billy's to the envelope and back again. Billy nods and pushes the envelope forward, just enough encouragement for Dominic to feel safe taking it from him.
There’s no further preamble. Dominic pulls from the envelope a stack of pictures thinner than he’d expected and focuses on the sight of his own back, at Billy’s constellation of matchstrikes at its corners and the welts confined inside. Dominic counts them off silently in his head and lets his fingers drift in the air above each mark, not touching the photograph but nearly feeling again everything on display. At the top of the photo, Dominic can see his chin, proud but soft, set carefully, and his shoulders, strong and better looking than he’d thought. Billy’s hands have spent long minutes curving over them in bed and out, and Dominic sits straighter in his chair even now thinking of that appreciative, appraising touch.
The next picture makes Dominic release a quiet, heady and involuntary breath of surprise. Billy’s hand rests on his back, two fingers pressed lightly into his skin while the others float restlessly above. Against Dominic’s body Billy’s hand looks pale and nervous; the edge of the photo is blurred, too, as if Billy’s been caught at his work.
Dominic aches suddenly to look up and catch Billy’s eyes, but it doesn’t feel completely right to do so; Billy’s gone silent and still again, as if he’s willing Dominic to stay focused on what he’s doing and not let anything distract him, not even Billy’s own thoughts. Dominic moves along in the stack, grinning suddenly to more widely mirror his own smile in one of the photos, and he shakes his head thinking of his off-kilter looks captured so happily, so well. Every following picture serves as evidence to Dominic that Billy cannot get enough of him-at least of his body, at least of how he looks and feels beside Billy-and while he doubts Billy would call this some of his own best work, Dominic loves every photo; he’s floored by Billy’s attention and the warmth present in pictures that could have been made cold and distant, detached.
Nearing the end of the photos, Dominic slows his hands and concentrates, trying to see through Billy’s eyes the sight of himself, of the tight close-up of his face and his tired, soft eyes. He’s almost forgotten the first purpose of the pictures, the reason for his request, until he turns to another Billy took after he’d urged Dominic onto his stomach again and returned his edgy focus to Dominic’s back. The marks look more vivid in these, and Dominic swallows as he sees the curve of welts and small bruises on his ass and just below; he remembers the feel of each blow as Billy had landed it, and he closes his eyes to collect himself, opening them again at what sounds like the first breath Billy’s taken in minutes.
The last picture holds Dominic’s attention the longest. Another close-up, this time a gentler thing, with Dominic on his side in Billy’s bed, tugging Billy closer; Dominic can see the reach of his shoulder in the corner of the photo and the exhausted joy in his expression. He stares at his own face captured so relaxed and at well-earned peace, his eyes soft and at half-mast, and thinks he’s never seen himself this way before, certainly not in years of family and friends’ photographs and not even in the careful work of the art students or Gian and Karina. Looking at the picture, Dominic can again feel the exhausted joy that had come over him that night before he’d fallen asleep, and for the first time since he’d begun to look through the picture Dominic feels a sting behind his eyes, a wave of emotion he has to fight in even a space as safe as this.
"You developed them yourself?" Dominic knows the answer but feels like he has to ask the question anyway, has to have the confirmation that Billy's held himself to the same rules he's asking Dominic to follow.
Billy nods. "Miranda's very kind to me. She left me to my own devices in one of her darkrooms for a few hours." He looks down at the photograph and then back up at Dominic. "And there we were. It's not as if I could have trusted it to anyone else, or wanted to."
Dominic nods, and then looks back down at the stack of photos in his hand. “They’re beautiful.”
“Consider the subject,” Billy smiles. “You make it easy sometimes.”
“Unintentionally,” Dominic laughs. “Billy, I just. Thank you. Thank you for this.”
"Are they what you wanted?"
Dominic exhales strongly. "Yes. Everything. Maybe more."
"Then thank me by taking care of them.” Dominic looks up again and finds Billy’s expression softer than his words. “I thought I might have them back from you at first, if I’m honest. Keep them at the house, yeah? I thought it might be safer.”
Dominic doesn’t blink. “Please, Billy,” he says quietly, and Billy’s nodding before he can say more.
“They’re yours. I couldn’t take them from you now if I wanted to, and I don’t. You might want to just--” Billy flexes his fingers, gathering a fold of the tablecloth between them. “Tuck them back away for now, though. Until later.”
Dominic does so, handling the photographs gently and smoothing down the clasp that holds the envelope shut before he weighs the photos in his hand, just thinking. After a moment Dominic nods, some internal decision he hardly notices having made showing itself, and passes the envelope back to Billy. When Billy takes it, Dominic doesn't feel the loss as much as he thought he might. The images are burned in his memory now, and he wonders if this is how Billy must have felt after he'd walked through Gian's exhibition. It's not the same, Dominic knows; in fact the intended purpose and audience couldn't be more different. But for only a second, Dominic feels a small, familiar spike of terror that Gian's sketches tipped the balance of his and Billy's relationship more than anything else. He doesn't want to believe that, and has evidence to prove otherwise anyway, but the thought rarely leaves him completely, and it's only when he finds Billy looking at him the same way clothed and calm as he does when they're in bed that the thought's at least silenced.
Billy's signed off on the bill while Dominic's mind has wandered, and Dominic wonders when the waiter had returned, if he'd missed some cue while he'd been focused on another. He has no idea how long they've been in the restaurant, but he's grateful they haven't been rushed or interrupted any more than necessary. Dominic sweeps his eyes around the room one last time, memorizing the look and feel of the place and the time he and Billy have spent there before Billy nods him up from the table, and Dominic grins as Billy stands and stretches beside him.
"Thank you," Dominic says again simply, reaching to pull Billy close, and Billy shakes his head and then barely hides a soft grunt of pleasure at Dominic's touch.
"I told you, Dom, you're excellent company." Billy hand finds its way back to Dominic's back again, urging him toward the door as Billy leans against him. "That's something I'm never going to be able to capture in a photograph, and no one should."
"So what've I earned?" Dominic murmurs as he blocks half the exit with his body, leaning against the door. Billy looks bemused and tired, but he's still smiling, and Dominic happily clarifies. "You said after dinner, we'd see what I've earned. So."
"So."
Dominic tries again, this time trapping Billy somewhat from stepping outside and thrilled when Billy goes still and doesn't fight it. Dominic tilts his head and says it again, more quietly and very close to Billy's ear, while Billy lets out another amused breath of appreciation. "What have I earned, Billy?"
"At least another look at those pictures," Billy murmurs and slides by Dominic slowly, just enjoying the feel of him until he clears the doorway and turns back to throw that lopsided grin Dominic's way once more. "Anything else, come home with me, see for yourself."
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Billy/Dominic
Word count: 4809
Summary: Dinner a deux.
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 steps back into the shadows at the sight of headlights too bright and too high off the ground to be Billy's. He's been waiting, far enough away from the residence halls and hopefully anyone he might know, for nearly twenty minutes for Billy to pick him up. This isn't something they usually do--arrange to have Billy pick him up from campus rather than Dominic making his way to Billy's back door--but then there have been a lot of things they've done in the last few weeks that they haven't done before. Dominic's felt caught between being shocked by Billy's bravado and wanting to push it just a little further, as far as he thinks he can, but it's as if while Billy has gotten bolder, Dominic's become more anxious--fearful, actually, that something will happen to end this, their relationship. He's particularly nervous that someone he knows--or worse, someone Billy knows--will see them, but he's excited, too, to be doing something out in the open. Kind of. Nearly so.
Another car passes, this one going too fast, and Dominic stays back hidden beneath the low hanging branches. He spreads his hand down his tie, twice, then begins to gnaw on his fingernail. Billy's late, but then he'd said he would be. Dominic resists the urge to check his watch and instead tries to practice some of the patience that Billy's tried to teach. Earlier, there had just been time for a few words between himself and Billy after class to arrange things, with Dominic leaned over his paper while Billy'd pretended to make suggestions for revisions. And then Billy had placed a light hand on Dominic's lower back, a touch that had lingered a bit longer than maybe was safe. Dominic thinks he can almost still feel it, and he shivers a bit in the cool night air.
Another few minutes and then Dominic can again see headlights at the top of the street, this time lower and wider, more likely to be those of Billy's old BMW, but Dominic still waits in the shadows until he's sure. His fingers curl and straighten against his leg in nervousness, his heart giving a ridiculous little leap when he's finally able to see Billy's face. He moves quickly, then, stepping out and sliding into the passenger seat, pulling the door to gently before he faces Billy and grins at the comparison of Billy's jeans to his own dress trousers, and at Billy's button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Dominic slides his hand down his tie again before he reaches to loosen the knot.
"Leave it," Billy says as he reaches for Dominic's hand, turning it in his own before he pulls Dominic closer.
"I wasn't sure--" Dominic starts, but he's caught off guard and left speechless by the intensity of Billy's gaze. Dominic swallows hard and sets his jaw, determined not to let his nerves overwhelm him. "Do you recognize it?" he asks instead, lifting the end of the tie and holding it out so that Billy can see it better in the dim light from the street lamp.
Billy's composure breaks a little with his smile, and he tilts his head. He does recognize the fabric and pattern, and has felt it in his fingers probably once a week for the last two years. That Dominic's made away with one of his ties doesn't surprise him; instead, Billy's smile widens and he looks back up at Dominic with just a bit more ferocity in his smile. "Belongs to me, that. 's appropriate."
Dominic grins back, finally relaxing a bit until a car moves past them, slowing--maybe to see if they need assistance, maybe to see if they recognize the driver. Dominic instinctively ducks his head and waits until the other car is further up the street before he looks again at Billy. "We should go."
"I think so, yeah." But Billy reaches for Dominic again and pulls him close by the tie, kisses him. Dominic holds back for only a second before he gives in and reaches for Billy, too. Billy's holding on like he hasn't seen Dominic in weeks, not hours, and it's easy for Dominic to fall into the urgency of Billy's touch.
"We could just go back to your place," Dominic whispers against Billy's lips, but Billy laughs under his breath and pulls away just slightly.
"I've been in meetings for the last three hours," he says, closing his eyes when Dominic leans to press his lips against Billy's throat. "They called me back to the campus after I'd made it home and changed, the bastards. 'm hungry."
"Hmm, me too." Dominic moves to nip at Billy's neck and undo another button on Billy's shirt.
"Different kind of hunger." Billy slides his hand into Dominic's hair and tugs, forcing Dominic away from his pleasurable work to meet Billy's eyes. "For food. We've got a bit of a drive, too."
Dominic's resigned sigh sounds more like the growl of a petulant beast chased off its prey. Billy laughs again and tugs harder before he gives Dominic a final kiss and pushes him back into his seat, catching his hand when Dominic would reach for him again. "Food first," he says. "Then we'll see what you've earned."
For a while they both just enjoy the drive, Dominic's nerves calming more with each mile Billy puts between them and the campus. Billy drives with ease, moving the car out of Baskerville's limits and through the villages that ring the town. The radio's down low, but suddenly talky in a way that makes Billy frown, and Dominic catches the look just before he reaches for the dial, fiddling with the stations. There's nothing appealing to be heard, so Dominic presses the CD button and hopes for the best, pleased and surprised to hear something happily familiar--Gomez, and a good song, one he knows well.
"I saw them in Manchester. My very first concert."
Billy blinks, shakes his head and smirks a bit. "Thanks for that. I feel older every second now."
Dominic laughs and turns in his seat to better face Billy, drawing a finger gently over Billy's hand on the gear shift. There's a raised scar beneath Billy's knuckles, and Dominic traces it absently before he looks up. "What was yours?"
"Don't remember."
"You do." Dominic shifts again in the seat. "You remember everything that's got to do with music. You must."
"Not everything," Billy says quietly, then takes a deep breath. "Alright, if you're determined to have it, it was Big Country."
"In a big country, dreams stay with you," Dominic warbles above the sound of the radio, laughing out loud at the glare Billy tosses his way. "My mum had their tapes."
"You're not helping. Not in the slightest."
"I'll make it up to you," Dominic laughs again and pushes his hand up into the back of Billy's hair when they reach a stoplight. "I always do."
"Start with telling me what you'd done with yourself this week," Billy says, and then laughs, too. "Well, apart from my class and our little--unscheduled appointment."
Dominic launches into an animated recitation of his week--his classes and the meeting with his German adviser, the pick-up games and the long promised coffee with Orlando. As he warms to his subject, he settles back into against his seat, keeping his hands to himself while Billy drives. He watches Billy carefully, though, cataloging each grin and grimace. He wants Billy's approval and interest, and works for it as he talks. It's not long, though, before Billy is angling the car down several blocks to a narrow side street and finally to their destination, a small out of the way restaurant, not one Dominic knew existed, much less has had reason or chance to enjoy. There's room for only a few cars behind it, and the lot's illuminated by old, lantern-style fixtures that glow a pale orange-yellow, like candlelight, Dominic thinks as he and Billy make their way to the building.
Billy's stride is familiar one to Dominic's eyes--the pace of a man both tremendously greedy and immensely satisfied--and Dominic's happy to watch him, only noticing just before they walk inside that Billy's brought one of his leather folders from work. It's on the tip of Dominic's tongue to ask why, but Billy turns to him with a lopsided smile as if he's terribly proud of himself for finding such a hidden treasure of a place, and Dominic forgets about the folder at the sight. Billy looks like he's been here before, but Dominic decides not to think about with whom; Billy makes it easier for him by holding his stare and smile, guiding Dominic forward. Inside the restaurant it's dark, the surroundings quiet and intimate but not formal--no one blinks at Billy's jeans or Dominic's tie, or at the sight of Billy's hand curving slightly around Dominic's back as they move to their table.
Billy nods for Dominic to choose them a wine when it's asked of them, and Dominic takes more than a little pride in his suggestion. He'd learned enough at two jobs in a bar and one summer stint at a restaurant to choose wisely, and Billy's enjoyed bottles he's selected before on more than a few of their evenings in. It's Billy who suggests their meal, though, certain of what's best and what'll go well with Dominic's pick. The practicalities out of the way, Billy folds his arms across his chest a bit and leans in across their small table to focus hard on Dominic again.
"And your essay, Dom? On Rilke?"
"Haven't got it back yet." Dominic drums his fingers on the table lightly, then settles under Billy's gaze. "'m not worried. My professor's told me about this contest, though; she thinks I might have a shot at it." Dominic reaches to muss the back of his hair, looking at Billy from under his lashes. "Won't be till next term, and there's a long judging process, but--"
"It's poetry?"
Dominic nods. "Two poems or a criticism."
"And the prize?" Billy raises his eyebrows, and Dominic shakes his head.
"Just a bit of money, but you get published. It's not really going to happen--I mean, I'll do it--"
"Of course you will." Billy rests his chin on one hand. "And it'll be brilliant. The exercise alone's worth your trouble, Dom."
Another nod, and then Dominic laughs. "You won't get a vote, though, Billy. The poems'll be in German."
"You can translate for me, if you'd like. Or you can leave me in the dark, and I can applaud the effort just the same. I am eager to see your mark on that Rilke essay, though,” Billy murmurs and tilts his head. "Again, if you want to share it. You’re certainly not obligated to. Mind you,” Billy laughs, “As your advisor I’m in a position to find out about your marks from the horses’ mouths, as it were. Not that I plan to make a practice of it, let’s be clear. That’ll only happen if you seem to be faltering, Dom. I don’t like to breathe down students’ necks.”
“Well--" Dominic begins and blushes again, but his smile is wide and fierce.
“Don’t try to distract me. Plenty of time for that later.” Billy takes a generous sip of his wine. “D’you like it here?”
“Yeah. 's nice. It’s private, I guess.” Dominic looks around, and then slides his hand across the table slowly to push his fingers slightly between Billy’s. “It feels safe.”
“It is.” Billy threads their fingers together more tightly and then relaxes them, releasing Dominic and reaching again for his glass.
“You’ve come here a lot?” Dominic asks the question calmly, but Billy’s eyes flicker up and catch Dominic’s darting around the room again.
“Not anytime recently.”
Dominic doesn’t want to push, but the words come out too quickly. “But before--"
“I think you forget sometimes how much older than you I actually am, Dom,” Billy says quietly. “There’s a lot of before to my life. I don’t focus on it when I have something better in the here and now.”
After a moment’s silence, Dominic nods and reaches for his own glass, smiling at Billy from above its lip. “To here and now, yeah?”
“To here and now.”
The meal is delicious, delicately prepared, Dominic notes, and again takes a moment to wonder how many times in the past Billy has been here, and with whom. It bothers him, the lot of before of Billy's life that he doesn't know about and that Billy doesn't seem willing to share. It always seems to Dominic that no matter how close he comes, there is always something there between them--age or experience, Dominic's not sure which, but he wishes he could broach it, become indispensable to Billy's life. He wishes he could honestly do as they just toasted--live in the here and now--but he finds it nearly impossible.
"You've gone quiet on me," Billy says, interrupting Dominic's thoughts. "Is your meal alright?"
"It's great." Dominic takes another bite as if to prove that he likes it, then puts his fork down, distracted again. He retreats to the one thing he's sure of: that Billy wants Dominic in his bed if nowhere else. "But I think I'm ready for something else."
"Greedy."
Dominic opens his mouth to say more but the waiter is suddenly and silently at their side again. Billy's tempted by the man's suggestion of a second glass, but he shakes his head no, choosing coffee for them both instead. It's been a long week, and while Billy would love to unravel slowly over the course of an entire bottle or more between himself and Dominic, there's still the drive back, and whatever the occasion might demand of them once they're home. The server disappears again, and as he does, Billy's attention returns to Dominic, his eyes soft but the look of them intense enough that Dominic's made nervous again. Before he can stop himself Dominic moves to slide his hand back down his tie, but Billy catches his hand and turns it upward, visibly if silently pleased when Dominic's fingers relax and open for him. Billy pushes Dominic's sleeve up gently and moves his fingers beneath the leather cuff to scratch at Dominic's skin.
"You've kept them on."
Dominic blushes but nods, unafraid to admit to it. "Just the one most days. I like them. I don't like not having at least one."
"And what is it they do for you, hmm?"
Dominic blinks, holds his breath a bit and worries about telling the truth; instead, he does the best he can. "Remind me of what you can do--what we can do together, you know. What we've done."
Billy considers that, humming a little under his breath as he absently tests the clasp, his fingers scratching again lightly beneath the cuff. "What we did the other day, Dom--tell me what you were thinking when you left that room, when you went back to your class."
"I was thinking that the last place I wanted to be was in that lab."
Billy smiles but tugs at the cuff so that it digs into Dominic's wrist, the pretty little thing turning hard and unyielding. "You didn't even question me, Dom; you just followed. It's dangerous, that."
"I trust you." Dominic chances a smile, but his cheeks are flushed harder than before, his body responding to Billy's tug at his wrist. “And like I said, anything to get out of that class.”
Billy’s smile fades, and he finally looks away from Dominic for a moment. “And your teacher?”
“Assistant. She didn’t say anything. I got right back to it, Billy. Didn’t want to, but I did.” Dominic laughs. “We only had about ten minutes left anyway.”
“No, surely I didn’t keep you away that long--”
“There might’ve been a detour,” Dominic says, more softly, and it’s Billy’s turn to blush, nerves and apology in his eyes. Dominic shakes his head and turns his hand so it’s almost cupping Billy’s. “Don’t. I told you I could handle anything you throw at me, Billy.”
“I think you actually believe that,” Billy sighs. “Alright. But for those ten minutes--”
"It was brilliant," Dominic interrupts him, the confidence returned to his voice. "I felt brilliant. My thoughts were--more settled, like, afterward, more focused. I could've moved mountains."
"You can do that without any intervention from me." Billy nods as the waiter returns with their coffee, thanking the man quietly before he takes up the mug. "Look, I don't ask out of just curiosity. I've never done anything like that, and it cannot-I can't do that again to you."
Dominic nods, understanding it was a huge risk the first time, and a second would be too much, even for them. He drums his fingers on the table nervously again as Billy drinks his coffee, and he looks for the right way to form his next words. “Can I ask--you don’t normally--”
“Careful,” Billy laughs into his mug. “There is nothing normal to be said of me, Dom.”
“Can I ask what happened?” When Billy looks up, eyebrows raised, Dominic continues. “Before you came to get me. You had a meeting--”
“The story of my life.”
“This was different.” The certainty in Dominic’s voice makes Billy swallow hard, and Dominic pushes on while he has the chance. “I loved it, Billy, I did, okay. I just thought there was something more you wanted--”
“I wanted you,” Billy says, too calmly for Dominic’s liking. “That wasn’t enough?”
“No, it was. It is. I should have said needed. I’m trying to say it right, Billy.” Dominic swallows and looks down at his still open hand, at the cuff, and lowers his voice almost to nothing. “You make it hard sometimes.”
Billy blinks and goes very still, absorbing the hit. “Unintentionally, Dominic, you must know that.”
Dominic nods. “I do, yeah. I would’ve followed you back to the trees, too, Billy.” Billy blinks again, and Dominic drags another smile from the depths to ease the tension between them gently. “You had a leaf in your hair. And your hands were dirty. They’re never dirty.” Dominic pauses and flexes his fingers so they brush against Billy’s. “I would’ve gone home with you if you needed that. I want to make sure you know that.”
Billy nods, too, and then ducks his head a bit. “Of course.”
There's another long moment of quiet between them before Billy pushes his coffee to one side of the table, and takes up the leather folder he'd brought inside with them. Dominic watches from above his mug of coffee and doesn't blink when Billy meets his eyes.
"I have something for you."
"You didn't have to--" Dominic begins, but goes silent when Billy produces the envelope. Instinctively Dominic knows what's inside, and he swallows, staring at Billy's fingers near the envelope's catch. Chemical burn, he thinks suddenly, remembering the feel of that raised scar on Billy's hand; Billy must have been distracted while he'd developed the pictures, and now they're both marked as a result of what they'd done that night.
"Your pictures," Billy says quietly. He doesn't offer Dominic the photographs just yet; instead he waits for Dominic to meet his gaze again and hold it before he continues. "I don't know that I agree a picture tells ten words, much less a thousand. These are not going to tell you the full story, Dominic; you need to understand that. I want you to remember the rest of it. I want you to remember the way you felt, not-" Billy's mouth turns a little at its corner, twisting. "This. These. It’s more than what a photograph can show you. It has to be."
"It was more," Dominic says, turning his own intensity on Billy, his fingers turning and trapping Billy's. Billy doesn’t flinch or pull away, but Dominic can see the rise of gooseflesh on Billy’s forearms and the flush deepen in his throat.
"They're yours," Billy tells him. "Ours, I suppose, but for you. And I want--" Billy hesitates and frowns again, then lets his shoulders drop and exhales. "I can't force your word from you that you'll take care with these, Dom, but I want it; I'm asking that you do anyway. I'm trusting that you will."
"I will." The words rush quietly out of Dominic, and his eyes flicker from Billy's to the envelope and back again. Billy nods and pushes the envelope forward, just enough encouragement for Dominic to feel safe taking it from him.
There’s no further preamble. Dominic pulls from the envelope a stack of pictures thinner than he’d expected and focuses on the sight of his own back, at Billy’s constellation of matchstrikes at its corners and the welts confined inside. Dominic counts them off silently in his head and lets his fingers drift in the air above each mark, not touching the photograph but nearly feeling again everything on display. At the top of the photo, Dominic can see his chin, proud but soft, set carefully, and his shoulders, strong and better looking than he’d thought. Billy’s hands have spent long minutes curving over them in bed and out, and Dominic sits straighter in his chair even now thinking of that appreciative, appraising touch.
The next picture makes Dominic release a quiet, heady and involuntary breath of surprise. Billy’s hand rests on his back, two fingers pressed lightly into his skin while the others float restlessly above. Against Dominic’s body Billy’s hand looks pale and nervous; the edge of the photo is blurred, too, as if Billy’s been caught at his work.
Dominic aches suddenly to look up and catch Billy’s eyes, but it doesn’t feel completely right to do so; Billy’s gone silent and still again, as if he’s willing Dominic to stay focused on what he’s doing and not let anything distract him, not even Billy’s own thoughts. Dominic moves along in the stack, grinning suddenly to more widely mirror his own smile in one of the photos, and he shakes his head thinking of his off-kilter looks captured so happily, so well. Every following picture serves as evidence to Dominic that Billy cannot get enough of him-at least of his body, at least of how he looks and feels beside Billy-and while he doubts Billy would call this some of his own best work, Dominic loves every photo; he’s floored by Billy’s attention and the warmth present in pictures that could have been made cold and distant, detached.
Nearing the end of the photos, Dominic slows his hands and concentrates, trying to see through Billy’s eyes the sight of himself, of the tight close-up of his face and his tired, soft eyes. He’s almost forgotten the first purpose of the pictures, the reason for his request, until he turns to another Billy took after he’d urged Dominic onto his stomach again and returned his edgy focus to Dominic’s back. The marks look more vivid in these, and Dominic swallows as he sees the curve of welts and small bruises on his ass and just below; he remembers the feel of each blow as Billy had landed it, and he closes his eyes to collect himself, opening them again at what sounds like the first breath Billy’s taken in minutes.
The last picture holds Dominic’s attention the longest. Another close-up, this time a gentler thing, with Dominic on his side in Billy’s bed, tugging Billy closer; Dominic can see the reach of his shoulder in the corner of the photo and the exhausted joy in his expression. He stares at his own face captured so relaxed and at well-earned peace, his eyes soft and at half-mast, and thinks he’s never seen himself this way before, certainly not in years of family and friends’ photographs and not even in the careful work of the art students or Gian and Karina. Looking at the picture, Dominic can again feel the exhausted joy that had come over him that night before he’d fallen asleep, and for the first time since he’d begun to look through the picture Dominic feels a sting behind his eyes, a wave of emotion he has to fight in even a space as safe as this.
"You developed them yourself?" Dominic knows the answer but feels like he has to ask the question anyway, has to have the confirmation that Billy's held himself to the same rules he's asking Dominic to follow.
Billy nods. "Miranda's very kind to me. She left me to my own devices in one of her darkrooms for a few hours." He looks down at the photograph and then back up at Dominic. "And there we were. It's not as if I could have trusted it to anyone else, or wanted to."
Dominic nods, and then looks back down at the stack of photos in his hand. “They’re beautiful.”
“Consider the subject,” Billy smiles. “You make it easy sometimes.”
“Unintentionally,” Dominic laughs. “Billy, I just. Thank you. Thank you for this.”
"Are they what you wanted?"
Dominic exhales strongly. "Yes. Everything. Maybe more."
"Then thank me by taking care of them.” Dominic looks up again and finds Billy’s expression softer than his words. “I thought I might have them back from you at first, if I’m honest. Keep them at the house, yeah? I thought it might be safer.”
Dominic doesn’t blink. “Please, Billy,” he says quietly, and Billy’s nodding before he can say more.
“They’re yours. I couldn’t take them from you now if I wanted to, and I don’t. You might want to just--” Billy flexes his fingers, gathering a fold of the tablecloth between them. “Tuck them back away for now, though. Until later.”
Dominic does so, handling the photographs gently and smoothing down the clasp that holds the envelope shut before he weighs the photos in his hand, just thinking. After a moment Dominic nods, some internal decision he hardly notices having made showing itself, and passes the envelope back to Billy. When Billy takes it, Dominic doesn't feel the loss as much as he thought he might. The images are burned in his memory now, and he wonders if this is how Billy must have felt after he'd walked through Gian's exhibition. It's not the same, Dominic knows; in fact the intended purpose and audience couldn't be more different. But for only a second, Dominic feels a small, familiar spike of terror that Gian's sketches tipped the balance of his and Billy's relationship more than anything else. He doesn't want to believe that, and has evidence to prove otherwise anyway, but the thought rarely leaves him completely, and it's only when he finds Billy looking at him the same way clothed and calm as he does when they're in bed that the thought's at least silenced.
Billy's signed off on the bill while Dominic's mind has wandered, and Dominic wonders when the waiter had returned, if he'd missed some cue while he'd been focused on another. He has no idea how long they've been in the restaurant, but he's grateful they haven't been rushed or interrupted any more than necessary. Dominic sweeps his eyes around the room one last time, memorizing the look and feel of the place and the time he and Billy have spent there before Billy nods him up from the table, and Dominic grins as Billy stands and stretches beside him.
"Thank you," Dominic says again simply, reaching to pull Billy close, and Billy shakes his head and then barely hides a soft grunt of pleasure at Dominic's touch.
"I told you, Dom, you're excellent company." Billy hand finds its way back to Dominic's back again, urging him toward the door as Billy leans against him. "That's something I'm never going to be able to capture in a photograph, and no one should."
"So what've I earned?" Dominic murmurs as he blocks half the exit with his body, leaning against the door. Billy looks bemused and tired, but he's still smiling, and Dominic happily clarifies. "You said after dinner, we'd see what I've earned. So."
"So."
Dominic tries again, this time trapping Billy somewhat from stepping outside and thrilled when Billy goes still and doesn't fight it. Dominic tilts his head and says it again, more quietly and very close to Billy's ear, while Billy lets out another amused breath of appreciation. "What have I earned, Billy?"
"At least another look at those pictures," Billy murmurs and slides by Dominic slowly, just enjoying the feel of him until he clears the doorway and turns back to throw that lopsided grin Dominic's way once more. "Anything else, come home with me, see for yourself."