(no subject)
The Long Night
Part Four
d/b
Disclaimer: I have made this up.
Rating: Little itsy bit naughty.
~*~
Lots of liquids, lots of rest, no heavy lifting, codeine every four hours, check his temperature, if he has a fever call us. Billy ran through the list of the doctor’s directions again and again in his mind. The only liquids they had in the fridge were milk and beer. Billy bit at his thumbnail.
“What can I do?” Elijah asked.
“Would you mind running to the grocery?”
“Not at all.”
When Elijah had gone Billy joined Dom (and Ralph) on the couch and indulged in ten minutes welcome-home kissing.
“Tea and a movie?”
Dom nodded.
“Elijah will be back with juice and things in a bit. What do you want to watch?”
“Dunno. Nothing scary, okay?”
It turned out that tea and the movie didn’t matter after all. By the time Elijah returned from the store they were both sound asleep in each others arms.
~*~
Dom was howling in the living room. Billy hastily set down the tea kettle and ran for him. He couldn’t tell if Dom was laughing or crying. It didn’t seem that Dom knew either. He was lying on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and Billy’s dog was standing on Dom’s belly, trying to get his nose in the bowl.
“Oh! He’s so cute. Make him stop. It hurts me.”
“Down!” Billy roared. The dog yelped and dropped miserably to the floor beside the couch.
“He didn’t mean it, Bill.”
“He could have pulled out your stitches.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Hello Bill.” Billy noticed Viggo for the first time since entering the room.
“’Lo Vig. Thanks for looking after him.”
“Not a problem. Thanks for looking after this one,” Viggo said, indicating Dom.
“Kiss,” Dom demanded, offering his cheek up for a peck. Viggo complied, not seeming to care that Dom’s cheek was smeared with ice cream.
~*~
“Where the hell are your parents?”
“Argentina.”
“They left?”
“They got bored.”
“But they barely saw you.”
“Yeah, well, they’re kind of flighty like that. You know that, Bills. They’ll come back when I’m more lively.”
“You had major surgery!”
“You see now why I’m so starved for attention, don’t you? Why I had to leave behind a respectable life forever and mix with actors and artists? To spend my days seeking the adoration I so desperately crave?”
“Melodramatic.”
“My life’s a melodrama. I can’t help it. Some of us are born to suffer.”
Billy kissed him.
“I am suffering, Bills, for real.”
“You are? What’s the matter?”
“I want sex. I want you. I want you naked.”
“Naked you can have, but no sex.”
“Why not? The doctor said I should resume normal activity as soon as I feel ready and my normal activity includes you naked and sex.”
“He said to rest for at least a week.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three days.”
“Bugger. Not even a wee blow job?”
“Not even. I’m really afraid it would hurt you, Dom. You know how you thrash about.”
“You’re probably right. You’ll get naked though? Will you get naked and look all love starved for me? I want to draw you with that look in your eyes.”
They had an old sort of garage out back that Dom called ‘the studio’. It was a shack really, but Billy had coaxed all sorts of vines to grow over it and the inside was stacked with a variety of half-finished projects. There were paintings, and things they thought they might build, lumps of clay, sheaves of drawings, boxes of photographs, musty books, and teetering piles of Dom’s old journals. In one corner there were instruments that neither of them knew how to play and a cracked mirror. Dom needed a chaise lounge in order to be creative so one stood in the middle of the floor, draped with filmy sheets and surrounded by artificial foliage and torn silk screens. Under one dusty window was an old chest of drawers. Dom had stuffed it with all manner of ‘romantic’ garments. They were costumes really. He’d don a velvet smoking jacket and a beat up hat and lay on the sofa philosophizing about this or that. He had outlandish dressing robes, silk trousers, delicate scarves. Sometimes he would suck on a pipe, or twirl a cane, or brandish a sword.
Sometimes he’d strip down to his bare hide because he felt more creative when he was nude (Billy knew Dom would act in the nude if he could, and play football, and grocery shop, but he restricted himself to painting and drawing this way). He always seemed bigger at these moments. He’d arrange Billy on the lounge and then pace the floor. He’d throw his hands up over his head. He’d jump, scribble something on his paper and run to stare romantically out the window. It was all very dramatic. It made Billy’s blood leap in his body.
There were a few garments in the studio that were only for Billy. There was a pair of black leather pants (and an entire sketch book of Billy’s arse in them to prove it), a kilt, his own smoking jacket and a very feminine, very innocent looking, yellow petticoat. Billy had only worn it once. Dom had pulled at his own hair when Billy came out from behind the screen and pushed him up against the cool of the stone wall. They both emerged from that encounter shocked by its intensity and not entirely sure if they weren’t damaged in some way.
Dom had folded the slip reverently and put it away in a box. It was too powerful to use very often.
Billy pushed Dom in his rented wheelchair across the lawn.
“This is romantic, Bill. I feel consumptive, jaundiced, battle scarred.” He was wearing a robe that Billy was certain had started life as a slip cover for a chair. It had a gold fringe. Dom was only comfortable in drawstring trousers these days so Billy had gone out and bought him half a dozen pairs. He had on the most outlandish ones, red satin. His feet were bare.
Even Ralph had been dressed up. He was crisscrossed with black velvet ribbon and cut quite a dashing figure on Dom’s lap.
“Are you sure you’ll be comfortable on the stool? Wouldn’t you rather lie about and philosophize?”
“Take your clothes off, Bill.” Dom was sharpening his charcoal pencils, blowing the shavings all over the floor.
Billy spent the next thirty minutes lying on his belly among satin pillows. Dom didn’t have it in him to pace but he breathed like a dragon, nostrils flaring, his feet tapped a tribal rhythm on the floor. Billy tried to hide his arousal but he grew sweaty and the pillows caressed him whenever he moved. A soft sigh escaped his lips.
Dom let his sketch flutter to the floor.
“That’s it. That’s the look I want. Are you hungry for me, Bill?”
Billy put his hands over his head and rolled over. He was flushed from head to toe. His eyes were dark.
Dom pressed the heel of his hand to his own crotch and leaned over a fresh sheet of paper. It was suddenly warm in the little shed. His brow broke out with sweat but he worked until he had captured what he wanted.
“It’s like a little piece of your soul over here,” he panted when he was done.
“I’ll look at it later. Come here now.”
Dom hobbled over, not even remembering to bring Ralph for help.
“The doctor didn’t say anything about giving blow jobs did he?”
“No,” Billy agreed, “He didn’t.”
They kissed wildly for a few moments. Billy disentangled Dom from his ridiculous robe and tossed it aside.
“Careful with me,” Dom cautioned.
“How do you want to do this?”
“I’ll lay back against the pillows. I’m sore from sitting. Just kneel over me. That’s it. Spread your legs a bit more.”
Dom was quiet then. Billy hissed and sighed. His orgasm was coming on quickly. He put one hand in Dom’s hair and reached around to tease his own opening with his other. Dom whimpered around his cock.
Billy woke with the dog nestled beside him and Elijah knocking softly on the door. Elijah knew from bitter experience not to intrude on them there without knocking. Still, he hesitated at Billy’s quiet beckoning. Even announcing one’s arrival did not guarantee a chaste sight on the other side of the door.
Billy was bare but Dom, in his satin pants, covered him. Elijah dropped his eyes but Billy waved him over.
“It’s only love,” he said.
“Need help with him?”
He thought, looking at Billy’s eyes, that he may have gotten into Dom’s codeine, but he knew it was only the heat, the weight of Dom’s body, love coursing like wine in Billy’s veins.
They shook Dom awake and put him in his wheelchair. He was groggy and sore.
“My drawing,” he grumbled. Billy whisked it from the easel and Elijah had only a fleeting glimpse of something private, and needful, and untamed.
~*~
“Let’s take that plaster off your belly button.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s getting grungy.”
“I don’t know, Bill.”
“I do. On three. Three, two…”
Dom burst into tears. “I’m tired of hurting.”
“Ah, Dom. You’re a wreck. We need to get you off the codeine. Want to try regular Tylenol?”
Dom snuffled and folded his arms across his belly. He shook his head.
“Just one more dose, Bill. That hurt so bad.”
~*~
“What did the doctor say?”
“He said I heal like a champ. He said for you to be gentle today.”
“You asked him?”
“I did.”
“How do you want to do this?”
“I don’t care. I don’t care, I just need it done. Ravage me. Gently, but just…”
“I think you will be busy for the rest of the day,” Billy said hotly into Dom’s ear.
“Don’t look at me like that. It makes me weak.”
“You’d better lie down then. I can’t help it.”
Dom lay back on top of his ragged costumes and the script pages Billy had been reading. The sheets of paper wrinkled under his body and stuck to his skin like leaves. They tore and took flight and scattered into disarray. They settled into drifts under the cracked mirror and alighted like doves in the plastic trees.
Part Four
d/b
Disclaimer: I have made this up.
Rating: Little itsy bit naughty.
~*~
Lots of liquids, lots of rest, no heavy lifting, codeine every four hours, check his temperature, if he has a fever call us. Billy ran through the list of the doctor’s directions again and again in his mind. The only liquids they had in the fridge were milk and beer. Billy bit at his thumbnail.
“What can I do?” Elijah asked.
“Would you mind running to the grocery?”
“Not at all.”
When Elijah had gone Billy joined Dom (and Ralph) on the couch and indulged in ten minutes welcome-home kissing.
“Tea and a movie?”
Dom nodded.
“Elijah will be back with juice and things in a bit. What do you want to watch?”
“Dunno. Nothing scary, okay?”
It turned out that tea and the movie didn’t matter after all. By the time Elijah returned from the store they were both sound asleep in each others arms.
~*~
Dom was howling in the living room. Billy hastily set down the tea kettle and ran for him. He couldn’t tell if Dom was laughing or crying. It didn’t seem that Dom knew either. He was lying on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and Billy’s dog was standing on Dom’s belly, trying to get his nose in the bowl.
“Oh! He’s so cute. Make him stop. It hurts me.”
“Down!” Billy roared. The dog yelped and dropped miserably to the floor beside the couch.
“He didn’t mean it, Bill.”
“He could have pulled out your stitches.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Hello Bill.” Billy noticed Viggo for the first time since entering the room.
“’Lo Vig. Thanks for looking after him.”
“Not a problem. Thanks for looking after this one,” Viggo said, indicating Dom.
“Kiss,” Dom demanded, offering his cheek up for a peck. Viggo complied, not seeming to care that Dom’s cheek was smeared with ice cream.
~*~
“Where the hell are your parents?”
“Argentina.”
“They left?”
“They got bored.”
“But they barely saw you.”
“Yeah, well, they’re kind of flighty like that. You know that, Bills. They’ll come back when I’m more lively.”
“You had major surgery!”
“You see now why I’m so starved for attention, don’t you? Why I had to leave behind a respectable life forever and mix with actors and artists? To spend my days seeking the adoration I so desperately crave?”
“Melodramatic.”
“My life’s a melodrama. I can’t help it. Some of us are born to suffer.”
Billy kissed him.
“I am suffering, Bills, for real.”
“You are? What’s the matter?”
“I want sex. I want you. I want you naked.”
“Naked you can have, but no sex.”
“Why not? The doctor said I should resume normal activity as soon as I feel ready and my normal activity includes you naked and sex.”
“He said to rest for at least a week.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three days.”
“Bugger. Not even a wee blow job?”
“Not even. I’m really afraid it would hurt you, Dom. You know how you thrash about.”
“You’re probably right. You’ll get naked though? Will you get naked and look all love starved for me? I want to draw you with that look in your eyes.”
They had an old sort of garage out back that Dom called ‘the studio’. It was a shack really, but Billy had coaxed all sorts of vines to grow over it and the inside was stacked with a variety of half-finished projects. There were paintings, and things they thought they might build, lumps of clay, sheaves of drawings, boxes of photographs, musty books, and teetering piles of Dom’s old journals. In one corner there were instruments that neither of them knew how to play and a cracked mirror. Dom needed a chaise lounge in order to be creative so one stood in the middle of the floor, draped with filmy sheets and surrounded by artificial foliage and torn silk screens. Under one dusty window was an old chest of drawers. Dom had stuffed it with all manner of ‘romantic’ garments. They were costumes really. He’d don a velvet smoking jacket and a beat up hat and lay on the sofa philosophizing about this or that. He had outlandish dressing robes, silk trousers, delicate scarves. Sometimes he would suck on a pipe, or twirl a cane, or brandish a sword.
Sometimes he’d strip down to his bare hide because he felt more creative when he was nude (Billy knew Dom would act in the nude if he could, and play football, and grocery shop, but he restricted himself to painting and drawing this way). He always seemed bigger at these moments. He’d arrange Billy on the lounge and then pace the floor. He’d throw his hands up over his head. He’d jump, scribble something on his paper and run to stare romantically out the window. It was all very dramatic. It made Billy’s blood leap in his body.
There were a few garments in the studio that were only for Billy. There was a pair of black leather pants (and an entire sketch book of Billy’s arse in them to prove it), a kilt, his own smoking jacket and a very feminine, very innocent looking, yellow petticoat. Billy had only worn it once. Dom had pulled at his own hair when Billy came out from behind the screen and pushed him up against the cool of the stone wall. They both emerged from that encounter shocked by its intensity and not entirely sure if they weren’t damaged in some way.
Dom had folded the slip reverently and put it away in a box. It was too powerful to use very often.
Billy pushed Dom in his rented wheelchair across the lawn.
“This is romantic, Bill. I feel consumptive, jaundiced, battle scarred.” He was wearing a robe that Billy was certain had started life as a slip cover for a chair. It had a gold fringe. Dom was only comfortable in drawstring trousers these days so Billy had gone out and bought him half a dozen pairs. He had on the most outlandish ones, red satin. His feet were bare.
Even Ralph had been dressed up. He was crisscrossed with black velvet ribbon and cut quite a dashing figure on Dom’s lap.
“Are you sure you’ll be comfortable on the stool? Wouldn’t you rather lie about and philosophize?”
“Take your clothes off, Bill.” Dom was sharpening his charcoal pencils, blowing the shavings all over the floor.
Billy spent the next thirty minutes lying on his belly among satin pillows. Dom didn’t have it in him to pace but he breathed like a dragon, nostrils flaring, his feet tapped a tribal rhythm on the floor. Billy tried to hide his arousal but he grew sweaty and the pillows caressed him whenever he moved. A soft sigh escaped his lips.
Dom let his sketch flutter to the floor.
“That’s it. That’s the look I want. Are you hungry for me, Bill?”
Billy put his hands over his head and rolled over. He was flushed from head to toe. His eyes were dark.
Dom pressed the heel of his hand to his own crotch and leaned over a fresh sheet of paper. It was suddenly warm in the little shed. His brow broke out with sweat but he worked until he had captured what he wanted.
“It’s like a little piece of your soul over here,” he panted when he was done.
“I’ll look at it later. Come here now.”
Dom hobbled over, not even remembering to bring Ralph for help.
“The doctor didn’t say anything about giving blow jobs did he?”
“No,” Billy agreed, “He didn’t.”
They kissed wildly for a few moments. Billy disentangled Dom from his ridiculous robe and tossed it aside.
“Careful with me,” Dom cautioned.
“How do you want to do this?”
“I’ll lay back against the pillows. I’m sore from sitting. Just kneel over me. That’s it. Spread your legs a bit more.”
Dom was quiet then. Billy hissed and sighed. His orgasm was coming on quickly. He put one hand in Dom’s hair and reached around to tease his own opening with his other. Dom whimpered around his cock.
Billy woke with the dog nestled beside him and Elijah knocking softly on the door. Elijah knew from bitter experience not to intrude on them there without knocking. Still, he hesitated at Billy’s quiet beckoning. Even announcing one’s arrival did not guarantee a chaste sight on the other side of the door.
Billy was bare but Dom, in his satin pants, covered him. Elijah dropped his eyes but Billy waved him over.
“It’s only love,” he said.
“Need help with him?”
He thought, looking at Billy’s eyes, that he may have gotten into Dom’s codeine, but he knew it was only the heat, the weight of Dom’s body, love coursing like wine in Billy’s veins.
They shook Dom awake and put him in his wheelchair. He was groggy and sore.
“My drawing,” he grumbled. Billy whisked it from the easel and Elijah had only a fleeting glimpse of something private, and needful, and untamed.
~*~
“Let’s take that plaster off your belly button.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s getting grungy.”
“I don’t know, Bill.”
“I do. On three. Three, two…”
Dom burst into tears. “I’m tired of hurting.”
“Ah, Dom. You’re a wreck. We need to get you off the codeine. Want to try regular Tylenol?”
Dom snuffled and folded his arms across his belly. He shook his head.
“Just one more dose, Bill. That hurt so bad.”
~*~
“What did the doctor say?”
“He said I heal like a champ. He said for you to be gentle today.”
“You asked him?”
“I did.”
“How do you want to do this?”
“I don’t care. I don’t care, I just need it done. Ravage me. Gently, but just…”
“I think you will be busy for the rest of the day,” Billy said hotly into Dom’s ear.
“Don’t look at me like that. It makes me weak.”
“You’d better lie down then. I can’t help it.”
Dom lay back on top of his ragged costumes and the script pages Billy had been reading. The sheets of paper wrinkled under his body and stuck to his skin like leaves. They tore and took flight and scattered into disarray. They settled into drifts under the cracked mirror and alighted like doves in the plastic trees.