It's About Time
Title: It's About Time
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Never, ever happened.
Notes: Four fluffy too-long-to-be-drabbles/too-short-to-be-ficlets...es.
At the baggage claim Dominic struggles to pull his suitcase off the revolving belt, cursing under his breath as his stomach ties itself in knots; he stomps ineffectually at the ground in frustration. Suddenly, a hand appears and tugs - once, twice, three times - and his suitcase is free.
He turns and is assaulted by messy dark blonde hair and a nervous grin. He opens his mouth to speak, but -
"Dominic?"
"Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service," he says, bowing low.
The other man's grin grows, ceasing to be nervous, green eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Pippin. Billy. Hi," he answers, pulling Dominic into a tight embrace, laughter tickling his ear.
For Dominic, falling takes less than four minutes.
---
Standing motionless - for one hour, five minutes, and no visible end to speak of - is not the way Dominic likes to spend his five-in-the-mornings. Months of this - day after day after day - has not made it any easier and he groans loudly, burying his face in his hands.
Billy looks up, bleary-eyed, from his perch across the room.
"Whatsit, Dommie?"
" 'm fuckin' tired," he responds, forehead crinkling as he frowns.
Sean laughs, too bright and bubbly a sound for so early. "You should try sleeping once in a while. I hear there've been studies that say it helps that sort of thing."
Dominic cranes his neck and fixes Sean with a hard glare. "Hate you."
"I'm just saying," Sean says, hands held up in mock-surrender.
Billy rubs the back of his hand across his eyes. "Those my pants?"
Dominic looks down. "Er. Yeah."
"What've you two been up to?" Elijah asks with a grin.
Billy rolls his eyes. "Gutter," he mumbles. "He stayed at my place last night. On the couch," he adds as Elijah cocks one eyebrow.
Dominic says nothing, rubbing his hands absently over the worn fabric slung low on his hips, mind on moonlit-pale skin, seen only from a distance.
---
Dominic is knocked flat onto his back as Billy speeds into the trailer, barreling straight into him.
"The fuck?" he pants as Billy straddles his legs, pinning him down, and Dominic doesn't struggle.
"Tig!" Billy exclaims gleefully.
Dominic looks at him incredulously.
"I'll give you 'Tig'," he growls after a moment, bringing up his hands to Billy's abdomen and wiggling his fingers.
Billy shouts and reciprocates quickly, and soon they are rolling on the floor, locked together in helpless laughter as fingers move, caressing ticklish spots mercilessly.
"Enough," Dominic gasps as Billy fights his way on top of him again, "enough, I give."
As Billy's hands stop moving, Dominic is suddenly hyper-aware of just how close their faces are - noses touching, foreheads pressed together, and lips - lips mere millimeters away from each other.
Billy lingers there - one-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand, Dominic counts silently - studies Dominic's face intently - four-one thousand, five-one thousand, six-one thousand - licks his lips slowly, and if Dominic were to move a fraction of an inch that tongue would be caressing his lips as well, but he can't move, can scarcely even breathe - seven-one thousand, eight-one thousand - then rises, dusting himself off and offering Dominic his hand.
"That's against the rules, you know," Billy informs him. "You can't tickle on a Tig."
Dominic just stares.
---
Dominic has been giving Billy heated glances over the rim of his mug for twelve minutes and counting now, taking small sips to ensure the coffee lasts him just a bit longer, to ensure that he is allowed to stare a little bit more.
Elijah suppresses a smile when Billy rises abruptly and takes the cup out of Dominic's hands, setting it on the table and hauling him out of his chair. Dominic blinks - once, twice - then stumbles as Billy pushes him towards the bedroom without a word.
Orlando follows quietly, pressing his ear against the door; he sneaks back to the kitchen and reports low voices and soft laughter.
Seven minutes later, an triumphant yell can be heard; Dominic runs out, full-tilt, arms in the air; stops; grins, then runs back, slamming the door behind him.
In the kitchen, Elijah and Orlando exchange knowing glances, then turn back to their breakfast.
In the bedroom, Billy laughs until he cries.
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Never, ever happened.
Notes: Four fluffy too-long-to-be-drabbles/too-short-to-be-ficlets...es.
At the baggage claim Dominic struggles to pull his suitcase off the revolving belt, cursing under his breath as his stomach ties itself in knots; he stomps ineffectually at the ground in frustration. Suddenly, a hand appears and tugs - once, twice, three times - and his suitcase is free.
He turns and is assaulted by messy dark blonde hair and a nervous grin. He opens his mouth to speak, but -
"Dominic?"
"Meriadoc Brandybuck, at your service," he says, bowing low.
The other man's grin grows, ceasing to be nervous, green eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Pippin. Billy. Hi," he answers, pulling Dominic into a tight embrace, laughter tickling his ear.
For Dominic, falling takes less than four minutes.
---
Standing motionless - for one hour, five minutes, and no visible end to speak of - is not the way Dominic likes to spend his five-in-the-mornings. Months of this - day after day after day - has not made it any easier and he groans loudly, burying his face in his hands.
Billy looks up, bleary-eyed, from his perch across the room.
"Whatsit, Dommie?"
" 'm fuckin' tired," he responds, forehead crinkling as he frowns.
Sean laughs, too bright and bubbly a sound for so early. "You should try sleeping once in a while. I hear there've been studies that say it helps that sort of thing."
Dominic cranes his neck and fixes Sean with a hard glare. "Hate you."
"I'm just saying," Sean says, hands held up in mock-surrender.
Billy rubs the back of his hand across his eyes. "Those my pants?"
Dominic looks down. "Er. Yeah."
"What've you two been up to?" Elijah asks with a grin.
Billy rolls his eyes. "Gutter," he mumbles. "He stayed at my place last night. On the couch," he adds as Elijah cocks one eyebrow.
Dominic says nothing, rubbing his hands absently over the worn fabric slung low on his hips, mind on moonlit-pale skin, seen only from a distance.
---
Dominic is knocked flat onto his back as Billy speeds into the trailer, barreling straight into him.
"The fuck?" he pants as Billy straddles his legs, pinning him down, and Dominic doesn't struggle.
"Tig!" Billy exclaims gleefully.
Dominic looks at him incredulously.
"I'll give you 'Tig'," he growls after a moment, bringing up his hands to Billy's abdomen and wiggling his fingers.
Billy shouts and reciprocates quickly, and soon they are rolling on the floor, locked together in helpless laughter as fingers move, caressing ticklish spots mercilessly.
"Enough," Dominic gasps as Billy fights his way on top of him again, "enough, I give."
As Billy's hands stop moving, Dominic is suddenly hyper-aware of just how close their faces are - noses touching, foreheads pressed together, and lips - lips mere millimeters away from each other.
Billy lingers there - one-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand, Dominic counts silently - studies Dominic's face intently - four-one thousand, five-one thousand, six-one thousand - licks his lips slowly, and if Dominic were to move a fraction of an inch that tongue would be caressing his lips as well, but he can't move, can scarcely even breathe - seven-one thousand, eight-one thousand - then rises, dusting himself off and offering Dominic his hand.
"That's against the rules, you know," Billy informs him. "You can't tickle on a Tig."
Dominic just stares.
---
Dominic has been giving Billy heated glances over the rim of his mug for twelve minutes and counting now, taking small sips to ensure the coffee lasts him just a bit longer, to ensure that he is allowed to stare a little bit more.
Elijah suppresses a smile when Billy rises abruptly and takes the cup out of Dominic's hands, setting it on the table and hauling him out of his chair. Dominic blinks - once, twice - then stumbles as Billy pushes him towards the bedroom without a word.
Orlando follows quietly, pressing his ear against the door; he sneaks back to the kitchen and reports low voices and soft laughter.
Seven minutes later, an triumphant yell can be heard; Dominic runs out, full-tilt, arms in the air; stops; grins, then runs back, slamming the door behind him.
In the kitchen, Elijah and Orlando exchange knowing glances, then turn back to their breakfast.
In the bedroom, Billy laughs until he cries.