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Title: How I’ve Been Getting Off
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: Dominic Monaghan/Norman Reedus
Rating: NC–17
Summary: It doesn’t have to be pretty.
Notes: A little something off the cuff for slightlytricky, in honour of her boyfriend Norman Reedus’ birthday. Mwah.


“Yeah, actually I’m not sure where I’ll end up tonight."

It’s the first sentence Dominic’s really listened to tonight. He’s on a balcony over Los Angeles, watching city lights go on and off below him, and he’s not alone. It’s quiet out here, especially in comparison to the noise inside the house, the party that started hours ago and shows no sign of winding down. Dominic’s kissed and been kissed so many times his lips are numb, and there’s powder under his fingernails from stroking too many matte–finished female cheeks. He’s heard snatches of stories and songs playing not nearly loud enough under the rest of the noise, but there’s been nothing to listen to, to listen for.

Until, maybe, now.

This guy, right, the one of the opposite end of the balcony, he’s leaning against the wall and raising a cigarette to his lips with one hand while the other cradles a cell phone much too large to be this or last year’s model. Dominic can’t see his eyes or his face very well, but he can hear his voice, surprisingly soft and sweet. Dominic can also tell that he’s slouching a little, but still taller than Dominic himself, and that he’s not bothered by either Dominic’s presence or his stare.

Rather, he turns and faces Dominic, without any sort of fuck off in his expression. He keeps tucks the cigarette between his lips and reaches into his pocket for a lighter, flipping it in Dominic’s direction and nodding at Dominic’s whispered thanks. Dominic had forgotten about the cigarette he was holding, but he lights it now out of a sense of friendly obligation.

And then Dominic watches. Watches the other guy lean against the balcony and watch him until it’s clear that something’s being offered, and Dominic thinks why not. He didn’t come here to get laid, but why fucking not. When Dominic takes his last inhale and crushes the cigarette under his shoe, the other guy smiles for the first time and Dominic imagines he has an idea exactly where he himself will end up tonight.

::

Or maybe not, because at Dominic’s approach, the other guy doesn’t ring off his telephone call, doesn’t make any kind of overture other than a slow blink. Dominic’s not deterred by this, however; he’ll make it work, he always does.

Dominic takes a look over his shoulder, at the party inside, and then moves into the darkness where the other guy’s still purring into his phone. Dominic decides it’s not polite to listen in on another’s conversation, and there are other things he could be doing, anyway.

It’s an easy thing to find the other guy’s belt loops, easier still to find the buckle and work it open. The other guy—Norman, according to the breathy voice Dominic can’t help hearing on the other end of the line—raises his arms a little, giving Dominic space he probably doesn’t need. The zipper’s a bitch, catching on hard denim, but it comes down eventually with a tug. Dominic’s fearless when it comes to this sort of thing, but he’s still always pleasantly surprised when he someone makes it quicker for him by going commando. The faster he can wrap his hand around someone’s dick, the faster he can get it where he wants it more.

The guy called Norman sighs when Dominic meets his eyes, which are bright and amused even his face turns serious. “Ah, Hel,” Norman whispers after the voice on the other end of the line rises, and Dominic doesn’t know if he means a place, a name, or both. But then Dominic stops trying to figure out what’s going on and instead lets his hands move up Norman’s thighs while the rest of him moves down and his knees meet the concrete of the balcony.

Dominic pushes at Norman’s jeans until they’re past his hips and reaches, wanting that beautiful cock in his mouth now, no more even half–hiding it. Norman tosses his cigarette off the balcony and releases a soft, giddy laugh, making Dominic smile up at him for just a second, one crooked grin greeting another for what won’t be the first time tonight.

::

He tastes like smoke and salt, Dominic thinks, but it’s alright. It’s, well, it’s earned, somehow, and Dominic finds he prefers it to the scent of candy–sweet perfume and liquor inside the house. Norman’s hand flutters down to Dominic’s hair, pulling gently and then guiding him, warning Dominic that this is not all his show.

And that’s alright, too.

Dominic takes him in eagerly, licking and swallowing and humming and breathing and waiting for the inevitable shiver he’ll feel run through Norman’s entire body when he does this one particular thing he learned from a friend of a friend of Elijah’s, something he’s about to try just now, as soon as he can pull away to breathe—

“Ah, fuck,” Norman gasps, louder than anything else he’s said either obliquely to Dominic or plainly to the girl on the phone. Dominic purrs in appreciation for being appreciated, and Norman’s hips rise and buck against him, making Dominic pull back again. Norman’s hand moves from Dominic’s hair to his chin, tipping it back, and then Norman himself moves, turning slowly and facing the overbright, overnight Los Angeles sky.

Frankly, Dominic can’t believe his luck. He’s tearing at his own jeans quickly, spilling from them almost and running his hand up and down his cock, muttering something less like encouragement and more like fucking yes, hard, yeah? Hard and fast.

Norman looks back, waiting, and Dominic watches his hand grip the balcony rail for support. He’s still on that goddamn phone, Dominic marvels, and then decides that he’s meant to give Norman something to talk about. Dominic spits in his hand, making no secret of what he’s doing, and Norman curses again, bracing himself even as he listens intently to whatever the girl’s saying now. There’s the cursory work with his fingers, the press and twist that Dominic adores lingering over when he has the time and energy to do so. He has neither of those things right now, and it seems that Norman’s too impatient anyway. A third finger, and Dominic hears Norman hiss now.

And why not, Dominic thinks again.

::

It’s good to be with someone who knows what to expect, who gives as good as they get. Dominic’s grateful that he doesn’t have to say anything, doesn’t have to pretend this means anything, doesn’t have to do anything more than fuck Norman until he either drops the phone or just drops, full stop.

A number of Dominic’s lovers have been floored by his ability to top, especially after he’s spent weeks bottoming. Norman doesn’t know him, though; doesn’t know how much Dominic would have gladly switched places, and there’s no point in hinting at it now. Dominic takes a breath and pushes inside Norman, slow until he’s past the initial resistance, and then indeed hard, indeed fast, indeed enough to make Norman finally hang up on the girl who’ll keep talking for minutes before she realizes no one’s listening.

The phone clatters to the concrete, and Dominic gives Norman a second to grab the railing with his other hand before he’s plunging back inside him, leaning to drag his teeth over the exposed skin above his collar, above the torn label of a designer who’s ten years dead. Norman lets out a groan that rumbles from his chest to his throat, and Dominic matches it, bending his knees and changing the angle so that Norman falls forward a little and holds the railing tighter.

Fantastic, Dominic thinks, and knows this isn’t going to take much longer. It couldn’t and it doesn’t. Dominic pushes one last time and tenses, his eyes closing and his breath leaving him completely for a moment. Norman’s just as silent, but he shakes where Dominic is still, rises up when Dominic falls. Dominic leans on him, just until he can breathe again, and then pulls away, swiping at his cock with the hem of his shirt before tucking them both back in.

“So, ah—“

“Norman,” the other guy says, his voice suddenly guttural. “Reedus.”

“Dom Monaghan.” It doesn’t seem appropriate to shake hands.

“Are you—?”

“Actually,” Dominic smiles, palming his pocket for Norman’s lighter. “Actually, I’m not sure where I’ll end up tonight.”


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