FIC: Field Trip (rated R)
It's my day to post today and so I hope you enjoy this Billy/Dom AU fic. Thanks to ismenin for beta.
Being civilian members of a survey team isn't that great until you find you like each other...
Enjoy
Field Trip
FIELD TRIP
“Can you believe this place, Billy?”
Billy shifts under his blanket.
“Say that one more time, Monaghan and I’ll clock you one. Need sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
Dom wriggles restlessly. The air is stifling in the tent and, no matter how many times he turns, he can’t find any comfort under the scratchy blanket. He can’t seem to settle like Billy. This is everything he’s dreamed of. He has to think of the possibilities, examine them, dissect them.
If he was a boy, he’d punch the air with an almighty yell of ‘Yes!’
Only he isn’t. He’s an observer on a survey team and this is the chance of a lifetime.
“You think we’ll find anything? Y’know, something new? Boydus canis. A new species. A great discovery. Yeah, that’d be so cool.”
“Dom, if you don’t let me sleep, there’ll be a branch of the Monaghan species extinct in seconds,”
Dom forces himself to lie still.
The ground is hard and if he closes his eyes and listens, he’s sure he can hear the hum of life beneath him. He tries to imagine all the insect life in the reddish earth. Grubs, beetles, worms, all busy with their own rhythms and not the slightest awareness of what lies above.
If he extended his fingers now and plunged them deep into the earth - that would be a first contact of sorts. He is an alien life form ready to reach out and explore. His excitement bubbles up.
“Billy, only the second team to go in, isn’t that fucking fantastic? The first one doesn’t count -I mean when you’re first, you spend too much time with your mouth open. There’s not enough time to really see…Christ, Billy what was that for?”
The well aimed sneaker doesn’t hurt physically but Dom decides Billy doesn’t need to know that just yet. He rubs his arm and makes sharp gasps of indrawn breath.
Billy is unrepentant.
“You babble too much and less of the play-acting. Barely touched you. If you want to talk, go outside and talk to the stars. We’re too high for man eating wildlife so sadly you won’t be pared to the bone. Good night, Mister Monaghan.”
Dom tries. He really does, for after all Billy has seniority amongst the civilians in the team here, and can spread the word that Dominic Monaghan is serious about this wildlife stuff. His silence lasts for three minutes. Dom gets two syllables out and Billy is bundling him out of the tent. His bedroll, blanket and pillow follow.
“Hey, what about blood sucking leeches or man eating terror-beetles from a long buried culture lost for thousands of years? “ Dom tries to look woebegone. “I could be their next victim.”
“Please God. They’re welcome to you. Ask them to start with your tongue first.”
Dom pulls a face at Billy’s grossness but he knows when he’s beaten.
As he straightens out his bedding, Dom hears a soft snoring. He lies down and stares at the sky, curving over his head like a planetarium dome. He lifts his hand and circles his fingers round a blinking star. Here, he feels powerful, like anything could happen and he’d be ready for it.
He closes his eyes once more, trying hard to sleep. It’s a big day tomorrow and he’s going to make it count. He’s worked hard for this, and even if he’s come this far via voiceovers for National Geographic, and even if he had to be vouched for by friends of friends, Dom is confident he can do this, make an impact, maybe even a name for himself. Then, perhaps, invitations to other adventures would follow…
*
Billy wakes suddenly. The silence in the tent is unnerving. No restlessness as Dom tries out different positions in a camp bed, helpfully raised off the floor and suitably coated with insecticide. No muttering and weird noises as Dom has one of his entertaining dreams where Billy tries to work out what’s happening from the selection of grunts, groans and ‘oh yeah’. No stifled gasps and listening to the almost whispered ‘oh fuck’ as Dom wanks in secret. It didn’t take long to work out what his new colleague was doing in the early hours of the morning and though he isn’t shocked, Billy has begun to wish he’d brought ear plugs.
There’s also the occasional thought that, one day, when they get to know each other better, he might even ask Dom what he thinks about, because he’s never heard anyone wank without worrying that someone, somewhere could hear. Maybe Dom doesn’t know he makes those noises. Billy grins, his sense of mischief obliterating the vague sense of envy that Dom can let himself go so easily. What a pity everything has been planned already.
It’s an accepted rite of passage that anyone new on the team gets a traditional welcome in the form of some trick or other -nothing dangerous but just enough to provide a few worrying moments. Billy remembers what the team have planned for the following day and turns over, stopping only for a moment to listen and finally enjoy the silence.
His first day on the team is still a raw spot, something that when he looks back causes him to go hot with embarrassment even now. He had no idea that the specimen he’d been ordered to take to the great man’s field lab was already dead. He honestly thought he’d killed it and babbled out a hundred incoherent excuses in front of the famous scientist and his coterie of assistants before he even began to notice the amused smiles being passed from one to another and the atmosphere of implied superiority growing in the tent with each moment.
He’d never been one for tricks and catching people out, always hearing in his head his grandmother’s warning that there was no good to be had from the misery of others but this was a long way from Glasgow and he’d laughed with the rest of them, becoming more determined than ever that no one would ever catch him out like that again.
He knows Dom will be fine. Tomorrow there’ll be a communal breakfast followed by work allocation and then if Dom’s lucky, maybe he’ll be attached to a team on the look out for appropriate habitats. Dom will be lucky -he strikes Billy as being that type of person. Easy going, good sense of humour, maybe not too good at picking up how others feel until it’s too late although he does have a way with words. Billy hesitates.
Dom is also as strange as anyone he’s ever met. So bloody enthusiastic about everything and he cannot take a hint. So, he should be able to take this coming day without breaking his stride. Although, Billy barely gives him a week before he’s packed off back with the photographs, evidence and back up to the data they’ve already beamed back via satellite. If Billy, probably the most patient on the team, finds him weird, then the others won’t take to him at all.
He’s not bothered. One assistant is very much like another.
*
Dom has no sense of sleeping but then there’s no sense of waking up either. It’s more an awareness that something is watching him.
A moth is on his arm, delicately stepping over the fine hairs, probing the surface of his skin. Dom holds his breath and dare not move. Whatever the moth has found, sweat or some moth attracting pheromone Dom didn’t realise he possessed, the insect will not be scared off. As Dom finally exhales, it shivers but does not fly away. It pauses, waits and then carries on as before.
It moves down his forearm and onto his wrist. Dom sits up slowly and turns over his hand. The moth moves into the cupped palm, daintily stepping, unconcerned about the wide eyed fascination currently directed its way.
Dom wonders if the moth is trying to communicate and imagines the reaction of Moth City when this explorer returns to tell of his adventures amongst the Land of Sweaty Bipeds.
“Tell them I was the first you met. Tell them I’m the one sharing a tent with a Scotsman with his head stuck up his arse. So straitlaced that if he was any paler he’d be a corset. Tell them I’m going to make this happen for me and they’d better come and do their moth thing so I can have my name attached to something.” He chuckles at that idea, imagining his mum’s face. ‘hey, mum, I’ve got a moth named after me!’ but he has to admit the thought is a good one.
He thinks about his description of Billy. Is he being fair? After all, Billy has at least shown him what to look out for, introduced him to a few people even if they’ve looked at him like he’s a specimen himself - ‘actorus unemploydus’ or some shit like that. Billy has been helpful, although he’s not exactly cracked a smile while doing so. Serious man is Billy, Good hearted, though, yes, he’d say so. Now if Billy would just loosen up and maybe laugh more often -Dom would even take the occasional smile if necessary - the man would be good company.
It’s almost dawn and strictly, Dom should be up and show willing. Offer to do something like collecting fuel for the fires although he knows his offer will be refused. He blows on his hand, gently, and the moth ruffles its wings and flies away. Dom lies back, satisfied, and watches the sky change colours to blues he’s never seen before, not even in those old-fashioned paint-boxes of his childhood where each colour had a name of its very own.
His eyes grow heavy.
*
“Hey, wake up. Room service.” A not so gentle toe nudges Dom but he refuses to move.
Billy, holding a mug of hot tea, takes time to look over the team’s newest assistant. Dom sleeps with his arms spread wide like he was embracing the whole world. He snores softly and there’s a tiny trail of drool at the corner of his mouth. He looks completely at peace and Billy would like to watch and see what happens as Dom wakes up naturally but there’s no time.
“God, Monaghan, wake up, the sight of you first thing in a morning would give anyone the heeby-jeebies. Got you some tea. Drink it and get dressed. Sir Cameron won’t wait forever and he likes you to be ready and willing at 8am sharp.”
Dom stirs, turns on his front and then pushes himself up a little so he can look at whoever has disturbed him. “Huh?”
Billy has never understood people who take such a long time to wake up. “C’mon, get ready. Y’know, the usual, mind blowing things a man does in the morning.” A visual presents itself, slap bang into his imagination and hijacks his composure before he has a chance. Mind blowing. Dom slipping his hand further towards his groin, stroking himself, making those noises…what was he thinking about when he did that?
“Hello? Earth to Boyd?”
Billy jumps, startled to find he’s zoned out on the thought of Dom doing…whatever he does…in the mornings.
Fuck…naked …fuck, Dom is standing, naked in front of him, without a care in the world. Didn’t the man possess something to cover himself?
“Where does a man do what he has to do?” Dom waves a hand in the direction of his groin.
“Chemical loos. The other side of the camp.” Billy gasps as Dom makes a move. ”Wait! You can’t go past people like that. Get dressed!”
Dom seems confused and looks around. Suddenly he grins. “Ah! See what you mean. Didn’t get much of a chance to see where everything was yesterday. Jeans, where’s my jeans?”
Billy hands them over wordlessly, deciding not to mention that he tripped over them on his way out of the tent. As Dom wriggles into them, Billy doesn’t realise he’s staring. Fuck, the man doesn’t have underwear. Then Dom looks up and Billy feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Is there a problem?”
He doesn’t mean to sound like some sanctimonious priest -lord knows there was enough of them like that when he was a child -but there’s no way he’s admitting to looking over Dom’s tackle.
“If you’re going to do what you normally do in a morning you might like to tone it down, with the groans and suchlike. Sir Cameron is not exactly broadminded and you don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.” God, he had just sounded like his gran.
“What? I’m going for a piss, what d’you think I’m off to …oh my god, you’ve heard me…fuck, you’ve listened to me! Ha, I’m sharing with a mucky minded Scotsman. My mother warned me of men like you….man, you are something else.” Laughing, Dom walks off in the direction of the camp.
Billy takes out his irritation on the contents of his tent. Folding, tidying, pulling in Dom’s gear because, god knows he is taking forever, is done with sharp, exasperated gestures that make him feel better. He’s not going to let whatever hassle Dom is most likely to cause get to him at all. He’s got a job to do and he’s always prided himself on doing a job well. Sometimes a man had to be serious in life, stop treating it as a joke, think about what he wants and go for it. Dom just hasn’t realised that yet.
“Want me to help you out?”
He’d like to make a witty comeback to the question but his wit and imagination have decided to go off somewhere together. He hopes they’re having a great time because he isn’t. He’s flustered and there’s gear everywhere. They’re going to be late and that’s not his style. Feeling his face begin to heat up, he snaps back, “I’m fine, get over to the meal tent, start without me.” He mentally adds please firstly because he was always taught to be polite from a very young age and secondly it would be a very good thing if Dom has finished with breakfast and ritual hazing by the time he arrives. Then he could sit down and enjoy the peace and quiet.
Dom nods, and obediently sets off but, within seconds, has returned, looking faintly abashed. Billy’s sigh sounds much like the air escaping from an airbed.
“Hey, thanks for the tea. It can’t be easy having to look after me. I’m an acquired taste so they tell me. I know you’ll say something if I’m doing all this wrong so come straight out with it. No messing. And I appreciate what you’re doing, Billy, I really do.”
Billy thinks that the noise he’s making could be called gurgling but he’d like to classify it as clearing his throat. Whatever, he’s having a struggle with the idea of Dom as any sort of taste, acquired or not. Does Dom have a taste? How to find out…licking skin perhaps? Hypothetically speaking of course, one could do that, not that he wants to because the man is weird and oh god why is he thinking like this? Maybe he’s suffering from some sort of high altitude sickness because suddenly, anything this man says has a very odd effect on him.
Coming to his senses, he finds Dom has left, heading for something Billy could have warned him about but didn’t.
He waits for about ten seconds, mutters “oh shit,” and goes after the cause of all this upset. Life was so well laid out before, predictable, boring even,and he could deal with it, in that capable way he had, that everyone thought was wisdom and there is no way he is ever going to tell them otherwise.
But now?
Now there is Dom.
*
Dom’s never liked the idea of a communal breakfast ever since he was in the Cub Scouts and spoiled it all by asking for more after he scoffed the measly fried egg and one rasher of pale pink string they called bacon. The scout master had roared at him and Dom had launched into a rendition of ‘Food Glorious Food’ from Oliver complete with the jumping from bench to bench -not because he liked the song but because he knew the scoutmaster loathed musicals. The sight of all those nodding minions round the head man brings back memories he’d rather not have. Now he’s older, he even pities the scoutmaster; it can’t have been fun looking after D. Monaghan, ten year old brat.
“Dom!”
Billy’s shout and obvious keenness to catch up with him makes him smile in that careful, not too full on friendly way so Billy doesn’t take one look and back off. He likes Billy, did from the moment he met him and that first impression, for Dom, has turned out the most reliable of all. Billy looked at him with those green eyes and Dom decided there and then that he could be interested…if Billy was, of course. Now, it seems like he is, and that’s good. Something to work on, something to work with. In a manner of speaking, that is.
Billy is breathless and stuttering and Dom has to grasp his arm to get him to slow down. It occurs to him that Billy is staring at it like it’s a cobra about to strike. Maybe he’s being too optimistic about Billy being that interested, after all. Or maybe he has a fetish for arms.
“Glad you could do the breakfast thing, it’s easier to go along with someone ….you okay?” Dom is concerned at the pale face opposite him. Too pale.
“Look, I’m not supposed to say anything but I can’t keep quiet. You should know, they’re planning something. Not dangerous, nothing like that, but to make you look a fool. They did it to me, just to remind me I was no scientist and to keep out of the really big stuff. I took it and now they’re fine. Some of them even apologised after, once they got to know me. I’m only saying this so you’ll take it in the right way.”
Dom’s reassuring him most of the way to the tables and he’s not so much worried as pleased Billy told him. He sits down with a nod and a greeting like he hasn’t got a care in the world. He hasn’t. He’s just got a plate of grubs in front of him and they’re wriggling. Billy’s sat opposite him and his horrified expression is heart-warming. He didn’t know about the details -this disgusting mess- and that makes all the difference as far as Dom’s concerned.
He’s not sure how to play it. Should he make their morning by screaming and flouncing off because he’s an actor? He could do that -give them something to write home about on their laptops. Or, and he’s not sure he can do it but he’s up for most things as long as it’s not fatal, but he could actually try to eat one or two. Yeah, why not? Crunch -or is it squish? - the little buggers with a smile and show the lot of them. Right, take a deep breath or perhaps two or three, careful not to hyper-ventilate because it’s not the kind of breakfast he’s used to.
Then a hand reaches over and Billy’s got a couple between his fingers as well and his face is a picture. A cross between ‘I’m joining you in this stupidity,Dom, because I’m that stupidly brave’ and ‘christ, what have I just done?’ Billy doesn’t have to do this, no one is expecting him to and all Dom can think about as he picks the grubs up and puts them in his mouth, watching his tent mate do the same, is that Billy Boyd is a lovely, lovely man.
*
Billy reflects on the morning so far. The applause was pleasing, the nausea wasn’t and whoever said they tasted of chicken, lied. The best part of it is, that Dom is now really grateful and thinks Billy is the greatest thing ever. Billy only has to hint he needs something and Dom is volunteering to help out like a shot. Apparently they are mates in adversity so Dom announces. It’s endearing in a strange way.
Billy is perplexed. A good word, he thinks to describe his feelings. There’s something not right any more. He doesn’t have equilibrium. Sharing that experience, for no other reason than it seemed the right thing to do because he couldn’t let Dom do it on his own, has altered something. He’s had friendships and relationships but nothing that started like this. It’s not like he’s smitten or anything like that. It’s more that he can’t stop being interested. And involved. Hence, the grubs and the joining in. Of course, some might say that could be because he is smitten but Billy’s not falling for that so easily. It’s never happened to him that way. But then, he’s never met anyone like Dom before.
Dom moves to talk to someone and Billy finds himself watching him. He’s curious about what’s making Dom so animated. Why does he move his hands like that when he talks? Why can’t he keep still when he talks to others and yet, in the few times they’ve been alone together, Dom is totally focused on him and hardly moves at all. What does that mean?
He won’t ask. He’s not that up front, not yet. He’s content to be watching and taking Dom in - his mannerisms, the way he speaks. Learning about him because…because there’s something there. Something, a connection he can’t put his finger on.
Whatever information Dom has passed on has certainly pleased the team member who goes off with a shout and a wave to a woman on the other side of the camp. Billy feels he should get up to find out until Dom plonks himself down by his side with an ‘oof’. The two of them watch the scurrying and the general kerfluffle as people get ready to go out looking for whatever it is they seem so agitated about.
“I found a moth. Last night, when you threw me out. Hey it’s okay, don’t apologise, I deserved it.”
Billy swallows what he wanted to say only a moment before. He hadn’t been about to apologise, he’d been about to say he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. There was no way Dom was sleeping outside because if he kept on doing that, Billy would never get to know him any better and that would be a pity considering that Dom is more interesting than anything going on at the moment. If the Museum of Scotland could read Billy’s mind right now, they’d be withdrawing their funding since their cultural ambassador, sent out to learn about the strides of Scottish science and learning in the field, was thinking about other things entirely. Mainly that Dom had a great smile and Billy liked it when he was the focus of that smile. Although, why should he? It was a smile, nothing more.
“The moth was something they were looking for so I told them everything I knew and it seems they’re all excited. They wouldn’t have known without me. I like that.” It’s said with a certain pride and the glow in Dom’s face makes Billy want to reach over and touch him just to find out if it’s really there.
“Maybe they’ll let me stay longer if I’ve been useful. I’m only here on sufferance, Billy, let’s be honest. Friend of a friend helped me get this -mainly so I can get people to say a good word for me. I need funding for a trip of my own I’ve got in mind. Not like you. I’m not a cultural ambassador for my country.”
Billy snorts. He’s not putting his country down -he loves it with a passion but cultural ambassador? Impressive to say, but hard to define. Still, it got him here and here means Dom and dear god, he’s sounding more and more to himself like he’s eighteen. He can only hope it doesn’t include the pimples as well.
People are waving at them and calling Dom’s name. Seems like they want him to join them. Grubs for breakfast forgotten in the urge to find a new species. He explains it slowly because he wants Dom to realise it doesn’t mean they’ve accepted him just yet, merely that he’s been a great help but the words die away. Dom is delighted with the idea, as pleased as a child at Christmas. Billy lets it go. He’ll be around to help buffer between the newest member and those who feel he shouldn’t be there at all. He doesn’t want anything to spoil Dom’s moment. It will keep, all those petty jealousies, because they don’t compare to this enthusiasm and sheer eagerness to be part of what is going on that is coming from this man in waves of delight. Billy is so pleased for him suddenly and then realises that having Dom around could mean an equally infectious dose of enthusiasm could be heading his way too. It’s a tantalising thought.
“Off you go then. Better get your gear together. Need any help?”
He’s brisk and matter of fact now, because he knows where things are and what to do and Dom is floundering, wanting to do it right but wanting to do it yesterday.
*
It’s happened so fast and Dom wants to be off with the team but he also wants to sit down and talk with Billy without interruptions. He wants to listen to Billy, not just because of the accent and the way he says things, but because what he says comes from the heart and that’s a rare thing, even he knows that.
“How long will I be out there? I was hoping there’d be a chance for a talk and maybe the moth would come back, bring a buddy and we could have a foursome.” The words are jumping out of him, not making much sense but then his arm is stuck between holding a rucksack and a water bottle and Billy is pushing a tube of mozzie cream into his fingers and he can’t think…
The joke falls flat. Billy doesn’t appear to want jokes.
“Sorry, when I’m nervous about things, I start opening my mouth and noise happens. Not useful noise either. Ignore me.” As soon as he says that, he’s amazed. He’s never admitted that to anyone.
“I’m not about to ignore you. I think I can truly say you’re the hardest man to ignore I’ve ever met and that’s saying something. But I think you have possibilities.”
Dom, geared up and ready to go, has to know. Has to know because with the moth and Billy, his day will be a great one even if he includes the grubs.
“So, if I was to say I think we’ll get on, would I be close to the truth, huh? Maybe?”
Billy makes him wait, lets him know he’s giving the matter full consideration. “Maybe. And maybe more than that.”
“See you when I get back then.”
“Aye, you will. I’m not intending to be anywhere else.”
Dom nods. He’s looking forward to the trip to find the moth’s habitat, no doubt about it but now there’s something else ahead of him -something new.
Maybe more than that Fuck, what does that mean? He wants to turn back and grab Billy and ask him but he can’t and it’s maddening.
“Looking forward to it,” he yells back as he heads towards the Land Rovers filled with impatient scientists and camera men. He means it too, wondering how on earth he can concentrate now.
“Me too,” comes a reply barely on the edge of his hearing and Dom has to turn because it has a warmth wrapped round it and he guesses he’s not supposed to have noticed.
So he does, and catches Billy, smiling. A ‘hey this could be the start of something’ smile.
The pleasure in seeing that smile makes him miss his footing, stumble like the world’s off balance.
He doesn't expect a smile to do that to him.
And it’s exciting, knowing that it can.
Being civilian members of a survey team isn't that great until you find you like each other...
Enjoy
Field Trip
FIELD TRIP
“Can you believe this place, Billy?”
Billy shifts under his blanket.
“Say that one more time, Monaghan and I’ll clock you one. Need sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
Dom wriggles restlessly. The air is stifling in the tent and, no matter how many times he turns, he can’t find any comfort under the scratchy blanket. He can’t seem to settle like Billy. This is everything he’s dreamed of. He has to think of the possibilities, examine them, dissect them.
If he was a boy, he’d punch the air with an almighty yell of ‘Yes!’
Only he isn’t. He’s an observer on a survey team and this is the chance of a lifetime.
“You think we’ll find anything? Y’know, something new? Boydus canis. A new species. A great discovery. Yeah, that’d be so cool.”
“Dom, if you don’t let me sleep, there’ll be a branch of the Monaghan species extinct in seconds,”
Dom forces himself to lie still.
The ground is hard and if he closes his eyes and listens, he’s sure he can hear the hum of life beneath him. He tries to imagine all the insect life in the reddish earth. Grubs, beetles, worms, all busy with their own rhythms and not the slightest awareness of what lies above.
If he extended his fingers now and plunged them deep into the earth - that would be a first contact of sorts. He is an alien life form ready to reach out and explore. His excitement bubbles up.
“Billy, only the second team to go in, isn’t that fucking fantastic? The first one doesn’t count -I mean when you’re first, you spend too much time with your mouth open. There’s not enough time to really see…Christ, Billy what was that for?”
The well aimed sneaker doesn’t hurt physically but Dom decides Billy doesn’t need to know that just yet. He rubs his arm and makes sharp gasps of indrawn breath.
Billy is unrepentant.
“You babble too much and less of the play-acting. Barely touched you. If you want to talk, go outside and talk to the stars. We’re too high for man eating wildlife so sadly you won’t be pared to the bone. Good night, Mister Monaghan.”
Dom tries. He really does, for after all Billy has seniority amongst the civilians in the team here, and can spread the word that Dominic Monaghan is serious about this wildlife stuff. His silence lasts for three minutes. Dom gets two syllables out and Billy is bundling him out of the tent. His bedroll, blanket and pillow follow.
“Hey, what about blood sucking leeches or man eating terror-beetles from a long buried culture lost for thousands of years? “ Dom tries to look woebegone. “I could be their next victim.”
“Please God. They’re welcome to you. Ask them to start with your tongue first.”
Dom pulls a face at Billy’s grossness but he knows when he’s beaten.
As he straightens out his bedding, Dom hears a soft snoring. He lies down and stares at the sky, curving over his head like a planetarium dome. He lifts his hand and circles his fingers round a blinking star. Here, he feels powerful, like anything could happen and he’d be ready for it.
He closes his eyes once more, trying hard to sleep. It’s a big day tomorrow and he’s going to make it count. He’s worked hard for this, and even if he’s come this far via voiceovers for National Geographic, and even if he had to be vouched for by friends of friends, Dom is confident he can do this, make an impact, maybe even a name for himself. Then, perhaps, invitations to other adventures would follow…
*
Billy wakes suddenly. The silence in the tent is unnerving. No restlessness as Dom tries out different positions in a camp bed, helpfully raised off the floor and suitably coated with insecticide. No muttering and weird noises as Dom has one of his entertaining dreams where Billy tries to work out what’s happening from the selection of grunts, groans and ‘oh yeah’. No stifled gasps and listening to the almost whispered ‘oh fuck’ as Dom wanks in secret. It didn’t take long to work out what his new colleague was doing in the early hours of the morning and though he isn’t shocked, Billy has begun to wish he’d brought ear plugs.
There’s also the occasional thought that, one day, when they get to know each other better, he might even ask Dom what he thinks about, because he’s never heard anyone wank without worrying that someone, somewhere could hear. Maybe Dom doesn’t know he makes those noises. Billy grins, his sense of mischief obliterating the vague sense of envy that Dom can let himself go so easily. What a pity everything has been planned already.
It’s an accepted rite of passage that anyone new on the team gets a traditional welcome in the form of some trick or other -nothing dangerous but just enough to provide a few worrying moments. Billy remembers what the team have planned for the following day and turns over, stopping only for a moment to listen and finally enjoy the silence.
His first day on the team is still a raw spot, something that when he looks back causes him to go hot with embarrassment even now. He had no idea that the specimen he’d been ordered to take to the great man’s field lab was already dead. He honestly thought he’d killed it and babbled out a hundred incoherent excuses in front of the famous scientist and his coterie of assistants before he even began to notice the amused smiles being passed from one to another and the atmosphere of implied superiority growing in the tent with each moment.
He’d never been one for tricks and catching people out, always hearing in his head his grandmother’s warning that there was no good to be had from the misery of others but this was a long way from Glasgow and he’d laughed with the rest of them, becoming more determined than ever that no one would ever catch him out like that again.
He knows Dom will be fine. Tomorrow there’ll be a communal breakfast followed by work allocation and then if Dom’s lucky, maybe he’ll be attached to a team on the look out for appropriate habitats. Dom will be lucky -he strikes Billy as being that type of person. Easy going, good sense of humour, maybe not too good at picking up how others feel until it’s too late although he does have a way with words. Billy hesitates.
Dom is also as strange as anyone he’s ever met. So bloody enthusiastic about everything and he cannot take a hint. So, he should be able to take this coming day without breaking his stride. Although, Billy barely gives him a week before he’s packed off back with the photographs, evidence and back up to the data they’ve already beamed back via satellite. If Billy, probably the most patient on the team, finds him weird, then the others won’t take to him at all.
He’s not bothered. One assistant is very much like another.
*
Dom has no sense of sleeping but then there’s no sense of waking up either. It’s more an awareness that something is watching him.
A moth is on his arm, delicately stepping over the fine hairs, probing the surface of his skin. Dom holds his breath and dare not move. Whatever the moth has found, sweat or some moth attracting pheromone Dom didn’t realise he possessed, the insect will not be scared off. As Dom finally exhales, it shivers but does not fly away. It pauses, waits and then carries on as before.
It moves down his forearm and onto his wrist. Dom sits up slowly and turns over his hand. The moth moves into the cupped palm, daintily stepping, unconcerned about the wide eyed fascination currently directed its way.
Dom wonders if the moth is trying to communicate and imagines the reaction of Moth City when this explorer returns to tell of his adventures amongst the Land of Sweaty Bipeds.
“Tell them I was the first you met. Tell them I’m the one sharing a tent with a Scotsman with his head stuck up his arse. So straitlaced that if he was any paler he’d be a corset. Tell them I’m going to make this happen for me and they’d better come and do their moth thing so I can have my name attached to something.” He chuckles at that idea, imagining his mum’s face. ‘hey, mum, I’ve got a moth named after me!’ but he has to admit the thought is a good one.
He thinks about his description of Billy. Is he being fair? After all, Billy has at least shown him what to look out for, introduced him to a few people even if they’ve looked at him like he’s a specimen himself - ‘actorus unemploydus’ or some shit like that. Billy has been helpful, although he’s not exactly cracked a smile while doing so. Serious man is Billy, Good hearted, though, yes, he’d say so. Now if Billy would just loosen up and maybe laugh more often -Dom would even take the occasional smile if necessary - the man would be good company.
It’s almost dawn and strictly, Dom should be up and show willing. Offer to do something like collecting fuel for the fires although he knows his offer will be refused. He blows on his hand, gently, and the moth ruffles its wings and flies away. Dom lies back, satisfied, and watches the sky change colours to blues he’s never seen before, not even in those old-fashioned paint-boxes of his childhood where each colour had a name of its very own.
His eyes grow heavy.
*
“Hey, wake up. Room service.” A not so gentle toe nudges Dom but he refuses to move.
Billy, holding a mug of hot tea, takes time to look over the team’s newest assistant. Dom sleeps with his arms spread wide like he was embracing the whole world. He snores softly and there’s a tiny trail of drool at the corner of his mouth. He looks completely at peace and Billy would like to watch and see what happens as Dom wakes up naturally but there’s no time.
“God, Monaghan, wake up, the sight of you first thing in a morning would give anyone the heeby-jeebies. Got you some tea. Drink it and get dressed. Sir Cameron won’t wait forever and he likes you to be ready and willing at 8am sharp.”
Dom stirs, turns on his front and then pushes himself up a little so he can look at whoever has disturbed him. “Huh?”
Billy has never understood people who take such a long time to wake up. “C’mon, get ready. Y’know, the usual, mind blowing things a man does in the morning.” A visual presents itself, slap bang into his imagination and hijacks his composure before he has a chance. Mind blowing. Dom slipping his hand further towards his groin, stroking himself, making those noises…what was he thinking about when he did that?
“Hello? Earth to Boyd?”
Billy jumps, startled to find he’s zoned out on the thought of Dom doing…whatever he does…in the mornings.
Fuck…naked …fuck, Dom is standing, naked in front of him, without a care in the world. Didn’t the man possess something to cover himself?
“Where does a man do what he has to do?” Dom waves a hand in the direction of his groin.
“Chemical loos. The other side of the camp.” Billy gasps as Dom makes a move. ”Wait! You can’t go past people like that. Get dressed!”
Dom seems confused and looks around. Suddenly he grins. “Ah! See what you mean. Didn’t get much of a chance to see where everything was yesterday. Jeans, where’s my jeans?”
Billy hands them over wordlessly, deciding not to mention that he tripped over them on his way out of the tent. As Dom wriggles into them, Billy doesn’t realise he’s staring. Fuck, the man doesn’t have underwear. Then Dom looks up and Billy feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
“Is there a problem?”
He doesn’t mean to sound like some sanctimonious priest -lord knows there was enough of them like that when he was a child -but there’s no way he’s admitting to looking over Dom’s tackle.
“If you’re going to do what you normally do in a morning you might like to tone it down, with the groans and suchlike. Sir Cameron is not exactly broadminded and you don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.” God, he had just sounded like his gran.
“What? I’m going for a piss, what d’you think I’m off to …oh my god, you’ve heard me…fuck, you’ve listened to me! Ha, I’m sharing with a mucky minded Scotsman. My mother warned me of men like you….man, you are something else.” Laughing, Dom walks off in the direction of the camp.
Billy takes out his irritation on the contents of his tent. Folding, tidying, pulling in Dom’s gear because, god knows he is taking forever, is done with sharp, exasperated gestures that make him feel better. He’s not going to let whatever hassle Dom is most likely to cause get to him at all. He’s got a job to do and he’s always prided himself on doing a job well. Sometimes a man had to be serious in life, stop treating it as a joke, think about what he wants and go for it. Dom just hasn’t realised that yet.
“Want me to help you out?”
He’d like to make a witty comeback to the question but his wit and imagination have decided to go off somewhere together. He hopes they’re having a great time because he isn’t. He’s flustered and there’s gear everywhere. They’re going to be late and that’s not his style. Feeling his face begin to heat up, he snaps back, “I’m fine, get over to the meal tent, start without me.” He mentally adds please firstly because he was always taught to be polite from a very young age and secondly it would be a very good thing if Dom has finished with breakfast and ritual hazing by the time he arrives. Then he could sit down and enjoy the peace and quiet.
Dom nods, and obediently sets off but, within seconds, has returned, looking faintly abashed. Billy’s sigh sounds much like the air escaping from an airbed.
“Hey, thanks for the tea. It can’t be easy having to look after me. I’m an acquired taste so they tell me. I know you’ll say something if I’m doing all this wrong so come straight out with it. No messing. And I appreciate what you’re doing, Billy, I really do.”
Billy thinks that the noise he’s making could be called gurgling but he’d like to classify it as clearing his throat. Whatever, he’s having a struggle with the idea of Dom as any sort of taste, acquired or not. Does Dom have a taste? How to find out…licking skin perhaps? Hypothetically speaking of course, one could do that, not that he wants to because the man is weird and oh god why is he thinking like this? Maybe he’s suffering from some sort of high altitude sickness because suddenly, anything this man says has a very odd effect on him.
Coming to his senses, he finds Dom has left, heading for something Billy could have warned him about but didn’t.
He waits for about ten seconds, mutters “oh shit,” and goes after the cause of all this upset. Life was so well laid out before, predictable, boring even,and he could deal with it, in that capable way he had, that everyone thought was wisdom and there is no way he is ever going to tell them otherwise.
But now?
Now there is Dom.
*
Dom’s never liked the idea of a communal breakfast ever since he was in the Cub Scouts and spoiled it all by asking for more after he scoffed the measly fried egg and one rasher of pale pink string they called bacon. The scout master had roared at him and Dom had launched into a rendition of ‘Food Glorious Food’ from Oliver complete with the jumping from bench to bench -not because he liked the song but because he knew the scoutmaster loathed musicals. The sight of all those nodding minions round the head man brings back memories he’d rather not have. Now he’s older, he even pities the scoutmaster; it can’t have been fun looking after D. Monaghan, ten year old brat.
“Dom!”
Billy’s shout and obvious keenness to catch up with him makes him smile in that careful, not too full on friendly way so Billy doesn’t take one look and back off. He likes Billy, did from the moment he met him and that first impression, for Dom, has turned out the most reliable of all. Billy looked at him with those green eyes and Dom decided there and then that he could be interested…if Billy was, of course. Now, it seems like he is, and that’s good. Something to work on, something to work with. In a manner of speaking, that is.
Billy is breathless and stuttering and Dom has to grasp his arm to get him to slow down. It occurs to him that Billy is staring at it like it’s a cobra about to strike. Maybe he’s being too optimistic about Billy being that interested, after all. Or maybe he has a fetish for arms.
“Glad you could do the breakfast thing, it’s easier to go along with someone ….you okay?” Dom is concerned at the pale face opposite him. Too pale.
“Look, I’m not supposed to say anything but I can’t keep quiet. You should know, they’re planning something. Not dangerous, nothing like that, but to make you look a fool. They did it to me, just to remind me I was no scientist and to keep out of the really big stuff. I took it and now they’re fine. Some of them even apologised after, once they got to know me. I’m only saying this so you’ll take it in the right way.”
Dom’s reassuring him most of the way to the tables and he’s not so much worried as pleased Billy told him. He sits down with a nod and a greeting like he hasn’t got a care in the world. He hasn’t. He’s just got a plate of grubs in front of him and they’re wriggling. Billy’s sat opposite him and his horrified expression is heart-warming. He didn’t know about the details -this disgusting mess- and that makes all the difference as far as Dom’s concerned.
He’s not sure how to play it. Should he make their morning by screaming and flouncing off because he’s an actor? He could do that -give them something to write home about on their laptops. Or, and he’s not sure he can do it but he’s up for most things as long as it’s not fatal, but he could actually try to eat one or two. Yeah, why not? Crunch -or is it squish? - the little buggers with a smile and show the lot of them. Right, take a deep breath or perhaps two or three, careful not to hyper-ventilate because it’s not the kind of breakfast he’s used to.
Then a hand reaches over and Billy’s got a couple between his fingers as well and his face is a picture. A cross between ‘I’m joining you in this stupidity,Dom, because I’m that stupidly brave’ and ‘christ, what have I just done?’ Billy doesn’t have to do this, no one is expecting him to and all Dom can think about as he picks the grubs up and puts them in his mouth, watching his tent mate do the same, is that Billy Boyd is a lovely, lovely man.
*
Billy reflects on the morning so far. The applause was pleasing, the nausea wasn’t and whoever said they tasted of chicken, lied. The best part of it is, that Dom is now really grateful and thinks Billy is the greatest thing ever. Billy only has to hint he needs something and Dom is volunteering to help out like a shot. Apparently they are mates in adversity so Dom announces. It’s endearing in a strange way.
Billy is perplexed. A good word, he thinks to describe his feelings. There’s something not right any more. He doesn’t have equilibrium. Sharing that experience, for no other reason than it seemed the right thing to do because he couldn’t let Dom do it on his own, has altered something. He’s had friendships and relationships but nothing that started like this. It’s not like he’s smitten or anything like that. It’s more that he can’t stop being interested. And involved. Hence, the grubs and the joining in. Of course, some might say that could be because he is smitten but Billy’s not falling for that so easily. It’s never happened to him that way. But then, he’s never met anyone like Dom before.
Dom moves to talk to someone and Billy finds himself watching him. He’s curious about what’s making Dom so animated. Why does he move his hands like that when he talks? Why can’t he keep still when he talks to others and yet, in the few times they’ve been alone together, Dom is totally focused on him and hardly moves at all. What does that mean?
He won’t ask. He’s not that up front, not yet. He’s content to be watching and taking Dom in - his mannerisms, the way he speaks. Learning about him because…because there’s something there. Something, a connection he can’t put his finger on.
Whatever information Dom has passed on has certainly pleased the team member who goes off with a shout and a wave to a woman on the other side of the camp. Billy feels he should get up to find out until Dom plonks himself down by his side with an ‘oof’. The two of them watch the scurrying and the general kerfluffle as people get ready to go out looking for whatever it is they seem so agitated about.
“I found a moth. Last night, when you threw me out. Hey it’s okay, don’t apologise, I deserved it.”
Billy swallows what he wanted to say only a moment before. He hadn’t been about to apologise, he’d been about to say he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. There was no way Dom was sleeping outside because if he kept on doing that, Billy would never get to know him any better and that would be a pity considering that Dom is more interesting than anything going on at the moment. If the Museum of Scotland could read Billy’s mind right now, they’d be withdrawing their funding since their cultural ambassador, sent out to learn about the strides of Scottish science and learning in the field, was thinking about other things entirely. Mainly that Dom had a great smile and Billy liked it when he was the focus of that smile. Although, why should he? It was a smile, nothing more.
“The moth was something they were looking for so I told them everything I knew and it seems they’re all excited. They wouldn’t have known without me. I like that.” It’s said with a certain pride and the glow in Dom’s face makes Billy want to reach over and touch him just to find out if it’s really there.
“Maybe they’ll let me stay longer if I’ve been useful. I’m only here on sufferance, Billy, let’s be honest. Friend of a friend helped me get this -mainly so I can get people to say a good word for me. I need funding for a trip of my own I’ve got in mind. Not like you. I’m not a cultural ambassador for my country.”
Billy snorts. He’s not putting his country down -he loves it with a passion but cultural ambassador? Impressive to say, but hard to define. Still, it got him here and here means Dom and dear god, he’s sounding more and more to himself like he’s eighteen. He can only hope it doesn’t include the pimples as well.
People are waving at them and calling Dom’s name. Seems like they want him to join them. Grubs for breakfast forgotten in the urge to find a new species. He explains it slowly because he wants Dom to realise it doesn’t mean they’ve accepted him just yet, merely that he’s been a great help but the words die away. Dom is delighted with the idea, as pleased as a child at Christmas. Billy lets it go. He’ll be around to help buffer between the newest member and those who feel he shouldn’t be there at all. He doesn’t want anything to spoil Dom’s moment. It will keep, all those petty jealousies, because they don’t compare to this enthusiasm and sheer eagerness to be part of what is going on that is coming from this man in waves of delight. Billy is so pleased for him suddenly and then realises that having Dom around could mean an equally infectious dose of enthusiasm could be heading his way too. It’s a tantalising thought.
“Off you go then. Better get your gear together. Need any help?”
He’s brisk and matter of fact now, because he knows where things are and what to do and Dom is floundering, wanting to do it right but wanting to do it yesterday.
*
It’s happened so fast and Dom wants to be off with the team but he also wants to sit down and talk with Billy without interruptions. He wants to listen to Billy, not just because of the accent and the way he says things, but because what he says comes from the heart and that’s a rare thing, even he knows that.
“How long will I be out there? I was hoping there’d be a chance for a talk and maybe the moth would come back, bring a buddy and we could have a foursome.” The words are jumping out of him, not making much sense but then his arm is stuck between holding a rucksack and a water bottle and Billy is pushing a tube of mozzie cream into his fingers and he can’t think…
The joke falls flat. Billy doesn’t appear to want jokes.
“Sorry, when I’m nervous about things, I start opening my mouth and noise happens. Not useful noise either. Ignore me.” As soon as he says that, he’s amazed. He’s never admitted that to anyone.
“I’m not about to ignore you. I think I can truly say you’re the hardest man to ignore I’ve ever met and that’s saying something. But I think you have possibilities.”
Dom, geared up and ready to go, has to know. Has to know because with the moth and Billy, his day will be a great one even if he includes the grubs.
“So, if I was to say I think we’ll get on, would I be close to the truth, huh? Maybe?”
Billy makes him wait, lets him know he’s giving the matter full consideration. “Maybe. And maybe more than that.”
“See you when I get back then.”
“Aye, you will. I’m not intending to be anywhere else.”
Dom nods. He’s looking forward to the trip to find the moth’s habitat, no doubt about it but now there’s something else ahead of him -something new.
Maybe more than that Fuck, what does that mean? He wants to turn back and grab Billy and ask him but he can’t and it’s maddening.
“Looking forward to it,” he yells back as he heads towards the Land Rovers filled with impatient scientists and camera men. He means it too, wondering how on earth he can concentrate now.
“Me too,” comes a reply barely on the edge of his hearing and Dom has to turn because it has a warmth wrapped round it and he guesses he’s not supposed to have noticed.
So he does, and catches Billy, smiling. A ‘hey this could be the start of something’ smile.
The pleasure in seeing that smile makes him miss his footing, stumble like the world’s off balance.
He doesn't expect a smile to do that to him.
And it’s exciting, knowing that it can.