home

Title: Discover Me Discovering You
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: bb/dm, of course
Rating: R/NC–17
Note: For Kia’s birthday. <3

The Fangorn set is especially quiet now, with most of the production staff at other locations. Most afternoons, Dominic and Billy are lucky to have the company of perhaps ten others, chasing after them with long lenses as they run through piles of leaves and collapse against polystyrene trunks. It’s no wonder, then, that when they are afforded an hour’s break from filming, neither Dominic nor Billy is any great hurry to leave their little forest. Tea is sometimes brought to them, but more often not, now that they are no longer caught high up in Treebeard’s uncomfortable, groping hands. And the quiet, the solitude, is a relief, really, after weeks of listening to the creaking, grunting harmony of machinery and shouted commands.

Dominic is particularly enamoured of staying put in Fangorn while everyone else disappears. He’s content to play with whatever insects come peeking out from the sweet–smelling leaves, made curious by the heat and light and courageous by the momentary calm. Billy’s nose wrinkles only a bit as Dominic cradles bug after bug, cooing and naming them in one breath and releasing them with laughter in the next. Dominic’s only had to admonish Billy once to stay still and allow these new little friends to come out from hiding, and since then Billy’s had neither the heart not the energy to disapprove, much less disobey.

In fact, though he’d rather not admit it, Billy rather likes watching Dominic play with these creatures. Mostly he likes watching Dominic long fingers move with such confidence among the leaves, scooping up things Billy wouldn’t touch if you paid him and treating them with perfect care.

That Billy often imagines those fingers crawling up his own arms and legs with the same confidence and care is something he keeps to himself.

::

Dominic’s movements are slower today, and his eyes, typically so wide and bright, are hooded, sleepy. His hands flutter over the ground, but come up empty time and time again. And just from watching him, Billy feels sleepy, sad in a distracted way. He doesn’t like to see Dominic empty–handed or bored or so … bereft as he seems just now.

There are words on his lips, cheeky words, kind words, but none seem appropriate enough to be spoken aloud. Instead Billy continues to watch, his own eyes falling just a little. When Dominic raises his head with a resigned huff, Billy smiles, the smallest upward turn of lips. Dominic nods and smiles back gently, his gaze returning to his sap–stained, empty palms.

“Tired,” Dominic says suddenly, and Billy’s eyes open fully, focusing on the rise and fall of Dominic’s breathing under the layers of coat and vest and shirt, on his lips, on anything but Dominic’s fingers.

“Mmm.” He doesn’t have to be articulate, not around Dominic. Communication’s never been a problem between them, not even from the first day Billy threw his arms around Dominic and welcomed him to New Zealand, to the wardrobe department, to the Shire.

Dominic crawls forward in the leaves, his costume wrinkling and blond curls falling in his face, until he’s right up next to Billy, easing into the space that’s afforded him in the crook of Billy’s suddenly, unconsciously moving arm. Billy holds his breath as Dominic settles himself down, and only exhales when Dominic does too, the noise and feel of it so strange, so close to Billy’s ear—so close to Billy’s skin, which prickles and rises with gooseflesh in response.

It’s a different kind of communication, to be sure, but one Billy wants very much to learn.

::

“Is this actual sleep?” Billy teases then. “Are you napping, Monaghan? In the middle of the day?”

“Hmm.”

“And is there no intergalactic war to be fought on a big screen? No footie match to be won? No prank to be played?”

A sound Billy can only describe as exhaustedly derisive comes from Dominic, and Billy giggles before he inches them back against the tree trunk. His arm shifts, bringing Dominic closer, and it’s only when Billy really looks that he sees Dominic’s eyes are actually closed, and his breath is slowing like his hands were moments ago. He’s something between Merry and Dominic now, a new creature Billy’s never met but who is just as welcome in his arms.

“Dom,” he whispers. “Dom. D’you want to go back to the trailers, have a rest?”

No response, and Dominic’s body is getting heavier by the second, folded into Billy’s tightly. At Billy’s earlier movements, Dominic’s head had fallen to Billy’s chest, and Billy allows himself to stare for a moment at the sweep of Dominic’s preternaturally long eyelashes and the line of his nose, still bumpy but not nearly so overpowering from this point of view.

His gaze falls last to Dominic’s right hand, splayed a bit on Billy’s stomach. Billy knows his shirt will be stained from Dominic’s sticky, red–brown palm, but it shouldn’t matter, considering what Merry and Pippin have already been through at this point in this story.

Billy imagines hopefully that the mark will be a near–perfect handprint, wide at its base and thin in its five outstretched spindles. He will glance at it while they cover Merry’s close–ups, and remember this moment of quiet before the noise returned.

He will remember holding Dominic—and the marks Dominic’s left both inside and out.

::

Billy honestly did not expect Dominic to be such a sound sleeper. Dominic is after all by his own estimation twitchy, always in motion, unsettled even on his best days. But exhaustion will change you, Billy knows from experience, and even Dominic has admitted recently to falling asleep with his cellphone in hand, too tired to dial numbers he can barely recall.

But this is only a short break, and Billy’s succumbing himself now to the urge to rest. He grits his teeth at first, trying to stay awake so at least one of them will appear ready to go the moment Rick bursts back on set with his small crew. Rick is laid back enough to understand that Billy and Dominic are worn down to raw, nervy edges, but even he wouldn’t be terribly amused to find them asleep in the leaves when there is work to be done—and so little time in which to do it.

And so Billy widens his eyes and focuses across the room, looking for cameras and lights and the door—the damned exit that seems to move from day to day, leaving Billy stranded in the middle of the set and near ready to howl in frustration, if he were the type to howl, which of course he is not. He’s almost reached a kind of Zen contemplation of absolutely nothing when Dominic huffs again, moving upwards until his head is nestling into Billy’s shoulder and neck. Billy smiles and reaches his free hand to brush the curls from Dominic’s forehead, and he’s almost pulled away when Dominic takes his hand, smoothly and without even the slightest hitch of breath.

Billy makes up for that deficit in spades, gasping in ridiculous surprise and flushing like a child caught at a petty theft.

::

Dominic hums a little, tucking himself further into the curve of Billy’s neck and smiling against his skin. Billy feels more frozen to a spot than he ever did while filming Moria, but the heat of Dominic’s body and breath is almost enough to compensate.

“Dom …”

“It’s alright, Billy.”

Billy’s heard that sleepy rumble before, in the makeup trailer in the early morning, but it’s never sounded so perfect—never been meant just for him. Billy closes his eyes and frowns at the sudden constriction in his short costume trousers, raising his knees a little to hide it from Dominic, whose laughter is rich and low in reply.

“Can I?” Dominic asks, moving those long fingers inside the front placket of Billy’s trousers and stroking him through the material. “You’re alright?”

Billy swallows, nods and folds his hand over Dominic’s. His thumb moves over Dominic’s knuckles, across the hard, knobby run of flesh and bone, and his eyes meet Dominic’s before he looks toward the wall of camera equipment behind the few trees protecting them from view.

“I’ll be as quick as you want,” Dominic whispers. “I won’t get us caught.”

And Billy believes that. Dominic may be impetuous and a prankster of dangerous degree, but he’s not stupid. They need these jobs and their privacy both, and Dominic wouldn’t risk this anyway unless he truly wanted Billy to feel it—wanted Billy to know something he couldn’t speak aloud just yet.

Billy concentrates, memorizing every detail of this, while Dominic flicks open the two buttons that hardly count as obstacles. And then he’s there, inside, his fingers sliding easily around Billy’s shaft, and Billy hisses, biting down on his lower lip on the exhale.

“Not going to keep you quiet, Billy,” Dominic murmurs. “I want to hear you.”

::

Billy’s mind reels with advancing knowledge, facts and feelings rushing through his brain as he processes every gentle caress. He wants to return this attention as soon as possible, if Dominic lets him.

He doesn’t know, after all, if this is just something Dominic does with and for his mates or if—if it’s meant as a gift, if it’s half in warped character, or what. Unwelcome as they are, these thoughts aren’t enough to distract him from arching into Dominic’s hand and turning his head to meet Dominic’s lips, which feel as though they’ve been ready for him since that first day in wardrobe.

“Yeah, okay,” Dominic sighs when they pull apart to breathe. “Turn a bit, just—there.” He raises them both to their knees, and Billy doesn’t flinch when his trousers fall below his hips and Dominic’s hand sweeps lower, stroking him harder now. “Billy, Jesus …”

“Dom,” Billy whispers. “Dom, please …”

Dominic hand races back up his length, and his fingernails catch in the auburn curls between Billy’s legs, making Billy’s knees buckle and his body pitch forward. Dominic releases an oddly pleased grunt and catches him, stealing another kiss before his attention returns again to Billy’s cock, heavy and slick in his hand.

“Can’t wait for this later,” Dominic says, and his voice is throatier than before. “Can’t wait to take it. Can’t wait to take you.”

Billy groans, eyes shutting tight. “We’ll be caught,” he whispers, over and over again until Dominic silences him with one more biting kiss.

“Not here, Billy. Later, at home. My home.”

Billy’s hips buck at the thought of more of Dominic’s hands and body and skin and voice, and then he’s coming, hard and with too little breath to make the sounds Dominic likely wanted to hear.

::

The next thing Billy is aware of is of course Dominic’s hands, gentle again and moving what feels like warm cotton over Billy’s cock. He blinks, slowly, waiting to be shaken from what has to be a dream and pulled into makeup and Feet. It doesn’t happen, though, and the sound of his own yawn finally yanks Billy back into the here and now—

Where Dominic is indeed cleaning him up, working quickly but with the confidence and care Billy’s seen so often. Billy tries to speak, but Dominic presses a finger to his lips and shakes his head before nodding in the direction of the trees. Five minutes, he mouths, and Billy nods, breathing hard.

In five minutes they will have to be Merry and Pippin again. In five minutes the quiet will be gone, and with it all Dominic’s friendly little creatures, gone back to hiding under the leaves. It strikes Billy then that Dominic could just have been bored, frustrated by the lack of something to play with under their makeshift canopy. He moves back a little on his hands until he’s resting once more against the tree, and Dominic looks up, confused, then his face breaks into the wide smile Billy recognizes as a sign of Dominic’s supreme joy.

“You should’ve told me,” Dominic laughs, crawling forward again to Billy’s side. “Would’ve done this for you months ago. Wanted to forever, you miserable git.” His voice and eyes go soft again, and Billy surrenders to them completely, smiling too in relief and something sweeter.

“We’re good?” Dom asks, going very still against Billy’s chest. Billy nods again, and Dominic releases one last huff before springing to his feet and extending his hand to Billy.

“Then c’mere. Found a weta, and it’s about time you held one.”


home