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Title: A Breath You Can Afford to Waste
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: Billy Boyd/Dominic Monaghan
Rating: pfft.
Notes: 1,000 words or so. On a beach, pre–Lost, they talk.


They’ve been sitting here since the sun went down. The beach is deserted now, and Dominic feels both relieved and terrified to be alone with Billy. It’s been months since they’ve had a proper talk, a proper laugh or a proper—anything else.

And for good reason, Dominic thinks. Billy seems long past any hurt he must have felt after the last time, but it’s hard to tell with Billy sometimes; Dominic’s always waiting for whatever’s buried to surface. Billy’s told him before to sort out his own demons before he takes a crack at anyone else’s, and until now Dominic’s filed that advice with almost every other piece he’s received. He has a decision to make in the next week, and it’s become its own sort of demon.

While Billy yawns and stretches next to him, Dominic pushes his toes down into the sand, burying his right foot until the tattoos have disappeared. Billy senses the shift of more than the sand, and reacts the way he knows best.

“Close your eyes,” Billy murmurs, and Dominic does so, conditioned now after so long to the rise and fall of Billy’s voice and whatever demands it makes of him. For a long time there’s no sound but the slow, lapping waves fifty feet away. Dominic listens intently, his breath slowing, and he hardly notices it when Billy’s hands fall to his shoulders, rolling and kneading the muscles there expertly.

“It’s going to be good for you,” Billy’s saying. “The attention, I mean. You’ll be recognized for different things now.”

Dominic shakes his head. “You don’t get it.”

“No, of course I don’t.” Billy’s hands move into Dominic’s hair, raking it up and down again. “Of course I wouldn’t understand feeling terrified that I’ll never work again, no matter what the current job is. I could never comprehend the idea that I might not be any good at what I most want to do.”

Dominic opens his eyes, leaning back to stare into Billy’s clear green gaze. “I want this,” he whispers. “I don’t care what it’s going to do to me.”

“It’s Hawaii, Dom. A new start. Good waves, and girls, and boys, and a job. I don’t see a lot that’s negative.”

“It’s another million miles away from you—“

“You were lying about that A level in Maths, weren’t you?”

“I’m serious.” Dominic spins in the sand, his hands flattening on Billy’s thighs, and his eyes going very bright. “You think this is bad? It’s going to get worse, Billy. I’m going to be working all the fucking time.”

“It’s what you want—”

“I want you, too. I want—“

“Everything.” Billy smirks, but it’s gentle. “So fight for it, Dom. Look, you spent almost two years pretending to be someone else in Los Angeles. Why can’t you just take this chance to be yourself in Hawaii?”

“Because maybe that person was me, Billy. Maybe I don’t get any better.”

“You certainly can’t get any worse.”

Dominic throws his hands in the air and settles back down in the sand, huffing. “I really, really fucking hate you sometimes.”

“So you’ve said.”

“This time especially. Hate on a level unsurpassed.”

“Really?”

“Really.” A handful of sand slips through Dominic’s fingers, and he watches it intently. “Utter hatred.”

“I’m not that fond of you either, you know,” Billy sighs. “And at least I have reason—“

“Not—“ Dominic whispers, low and soft. “Not now, okay? I’m busy hating you.” Another hand in the air, weaker this time. “I was first, like.”

He’s not angry. He’s exhausted and energized at once, and Billy knows it. And while Billy won’t treat Dominic as if he’s made of glass on a good day, much less this day, he does want Dominic’s happiness, whatever it takes. That Dominic can’t always offer the same unconditional (if snarky) support in return makes him ache deep in his chest and lungs.

Billy traces a palm tree in the sand while the storm in Dominic’s head rages, and then a house, leaning from island winds and roofed with shingles that look like Dominic’s sunglasses. It’s only when Dominic’s breathing returns to normal that Billy looks his way again, a small, careful smile easing its way across his face.

“D’you still hate me?”

Dominic snorts. “I’m going to hate you for the rest of my life.”

“But right now—?”

Dominic swallows, his eyes brighter even than before, and tucks his hands beneath his thighs to keep from reaching for Billy. “Right now, I fucking detest you.”

Billy nods slowly, and takes a breath before he rises to his feet, brushing sand from his jeans. “Well, come back inside and detest me there, yeah? Because I’m only here for the rest of the week, and we have a lot of hatred to cover.”

Dominic surrenders, laughing and pushing his hands through his hair—anything to hide his face from Billy until the flush disappears. “Yeah, alright. Fuck off inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Billy’s not having any of it, though, and he leans down, catching Dominic’s chin in his hand and tilting it upward. Dominic expects … well, he doesn’t know what he expects, really, but he knows it’s not this—not Billy’s smile that forgives everything, even while his eyes forget nothing. Billy blinks once, and then it’s gone—all the bitterness, all of the incredible fuck–up of the past six months, all of it, gone.

“We’ll get through it, Dom,” Billy says softly. “Stop waiting for the sky to fall.”

“That’s when it will.” Dominic takes the offered hand and grips it hard, rising to stand next to Billy. “Fucking sky.”

“I don’t know,” Billy muses. “Might not be such a bad thing.”

Dominic rolls his eyes. ”Go on.”

“Depending on what part of you it falls on, maybe it’ll be an improvement. Race you inside?”

It’s not a proper talk or even a proper laugh. But it’s a start, Dominic thinks as he sprints. It’s a new and good start.


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