Fic: "Beautiful"
Title: Beautiful
Author: uraneia
Rating: NC-17
Thanks as always to katze_boston for the beta.
Summary: Everyone knew Dom was hot, right?
Everyone knew Dom was hot, right? Billy thought that was pretty self-explanatory. He blazed: sun-darkened skin, knowing smirk, elegant hands, not to mention his fantastic body. His gaze positively smouldered.
So Dom was hot. His touch ignited fires in Billy that never stopped burning and that was okay with him, really. Probably they should have tried to bottle it and use it as some kind of renewable fuel resource, but Billy was selfish and didn't like to share.
Dom was hot, especially when he was being taken, hard or slow or rough or gentle, when his mouth formed words and phrases that Billy could never have even imagined, and Billy was almost tempted to stay away for a night or two just so they could have phone sex, Dom's words were that hot. But he was just a little too addicted to the burn of Dom's skin under his own, over his own, in him or around him or against him, it didn't matter.
Pretty, too. That was what Billy had said the first time Dom had worn eyeliner, just enough to notice, to draw his gaze. There was that same heat in Dom's midnight eyes, the same intense fire there had always been, but this was something else. The smudge of black against his skin, though: that was pretty.
Other things about Dom were pretty, too. His hands, for example. Dom had very nice hands, long and slender, and he liked to wear leather cuffs on his wrists. Billy had never considered leather accessories to be pretty before he'd seen them on Dom but once he had, it was undeniable: definitely pretty. He had pretty toes, too, against all odds, because who had ever heard of pretty toes?
So Dom was pretty. Not just physically, though, Billy thought. He also made very pretty begging noises, like when Billy had his cock in his mouth, tight-lipped and hollow-cheeked. His little pants and moans and pleas, uttered in the stifling dark of their bedroom or the dappled sunshine of the New Zealand forest or the harsh light of the loo of a third-rate pub - it didn't matter, they sounded the same - all pretty.
That wasn't all Dom was, of course. Dom would be the first to point out that he was fucking sexy. Sometimes Billy playfully corrected that to fucking sexily, and then he would roll his hips just so and Dom would gasp, head thrown back, and clutch desperately at whatever bit of Billy was most accessible.
Dom's mouth was particularly sinful, not only because of the words and noises it formed but also for the sensations it evoked when fastened to basically any part of Billy's anatomy. Dom's mouth was the stamp of the devil, lips just full and soft enough to hint at ecstasy, just wet enough to tempt.
Sexy. Dom in the throes of passion, now that was basically Billy's personal definition of the word. It was impossible, how fucking hard it made him to see Dom like that, muscles corded, skin slick with sweat, the devil's own mouth open and panting or swearing or whimpering, it didn't matter, eyes closed, cock erect and weeping, wrapped in his own hand, or Billy's, or in his mouth or in his arse, it didn't matter. But the sexiest moment, the one that kept the fires stoked, the one that drew Billy back time and again and never failed to surprise him with its impact, was Dom in orgasm, the final trembling of strained limbs, the sudden flash of hot eyes, guttural moans and the release, the vulnerability, the sharp bite of teeth or nails in Billy's skin, the reluctant softening.
But the way Dom ignored their sticky bodies when those moments had passed, ignored the overwhelming heat, threw an arm over Billy's stomach and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, the way he murmured gentle words into Billy's neck before falling asleep, exhausted and insensate, the way his cooling skin felt beneath his callused fingertips - that? Was beautiful.
Author: uraneia
Rating: NC-17
Thanks as always to katze_boston for the beta.
Summary: Everyone knew Dom was hot, right?
Everyone knew Dom was hot, right? Billy thought that was pretty self-explanatory. He blazed: sun-darkened skin, knowing smirk, elegant hands, not to mention his fantastic body. His gaze positively smouldered.
So Dom was hot. His touch ignited fires in Billy that never stopped burning and that was okay with him, really. Probably they should have tried to bottle it and use it as some kind of renewable fuel resource, but Billy was selfish and didn't like to share.
Dom was hot, especially when he was being taken, hard or slow or rough or gentle, when his mouth formed words and phrases that Billy could never have even imagined, and Billy was almost tempted to stay away for a night or two just so they could have phone sex, Dom's words were that hot. But he was just a little too addicted to the burn of Dom's skin under his own, over his own, in him or around him or against him, it didn't matter.
Pretty, too. That was what Billy had said the first time Dom had worn eyeliner, just enough to notice, to draw his gaze. There was that same heat in Dom's midnight eyes, the same intense fire there had always been, but this was something else. The smudge of black against his skin, though: that was pretty.
Other things about Dom were pretty, too. His hands, for example. Dom had very nice hands, long and slender, and he liked to wear leather cuffs on his wrists. Billy had never considered leather accessories to be pretty before he'd seen them on Dom but once he had, it was undeniable: definitely pretty. He had pretty toes, too, against all odds, because who had ever heard of pretty toes?
So Dom was pretty. Not just physically, though, Billy thought. He also made very pretty begging noises, like when Billy had his cock in his mouth, tight-lipped and hollow-cheeked. His little pants and moans and pleas, uttered in the stifling dark of their bedroom or the dappled sunshine of the New Zealand forest or the harsh light of the loo of a third-rate pub - it didn't matter, they sounded the same - all pretty.
That wasn't all Dom was, of course. Dom would be the first to point out that he was fucking sexy. Sometimes Billy playfully corrected that to fucking sexily, and then he would roll his hips just so and Dom would gasp, head thrown back, and clutch desperately at whatever bit of Billy was most accessible.
Dom's mouth was particularly sinful, not only because of the words and noises it formed but also for the sensations it evoked when fastened to basically any part of Billy's anatomy. Dom's mouth was the stamp of the devil, lips just full and soft enough to hint at ecstasy, just wet enough to tempt.
Sexy. Dom in the throes of passion, now that was basically Billy's personal definition of the word. It was impossible, how fucking hard it made him to see Dom like that, muscles corded, skin slick with sweat, the devil's own mouth open and panting or swearing or whimpering, it didn't matter, eyes closed, cock erect and weeping, wrapped in his own hand, or Billy's, or in his mouth or in his arse, it didn't matter. But the sexiest moment, the one that kept the fires stoked, the one that drew Billy back time and again and never failed to surprise him with its impact, was Dom in orgasm, the final trembling of strained limbs, the sudden flash of hot eyes, guttural moans and the release, the vulnerability, the sharp bite of teeth or nails in Billy's skin, the reluctant softening.
But the way Dom ignored their sticky bodies when those moments had passed, ignored the overwhelming heat, threw an arm over Billy's stomach and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, the way he murmured gentle words into Billy's neck before falling asleep, exhausted and insensate, the way his cooling skin felt beneath his callused fingertips - that? Was beautiful.