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Title: Just Drive
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: BB/DM (go on,
recover from the shock. I'll wait.)
Rating: NC–17
Summary: Erm. Car and
driver? pRon? Irritable Billy/Dom?
Dominic's not really holding a grudge.
And he's not
sitting here sending telepathic waves of I told you so
to Billy, either. No, he's being good, slouching in the passenger seat
of Billy's black BMW and basking in the warm glow of Billy's furious
silence.
It's been a good
ten minutes since Billy signed off on
the speeding ticket, a perfect, plastic smile on his face as he thanked
the officer for docking the ticket fifty dollars after he heard Billy's
accent. And it's been fifteen minutes since Dominic noticed the red and
blue lights behind them and tried to explain to Billy that he should
maybe release just a little bit of that pressure
on the gas pedal.
It's
been a shit day from the moment of first waking, actually. Dominic
rolled over in bed and discovered to his horror that they were nearly
an hour late for an appointment with a potential backer for the sodding
script, and he spent the next several minutes screaming at Billy,
wondering why Mr. I'm A Morning Person hadn't seen fit to set his
fucking alarm clock on this day of all fucking days.
And of
course, Billy being Billy, there had been no response other than
muffled grunts that disappeared back into Billy's pillow.
When
they finally tumbled into their meeting forty minutes later, neither of
them were able to manage more than the most polite, serious
conversation with the backer and to a lesser extent with each other.
Perfect timing for that very special episode of The Dom and Billy
Show, Dominic thought as the backer left with a copy of their script
and good wishes all around.
So the day
should have gone better from then now, right?
Right.
But
no, instead it got worse. Billy spilled half his coffee and lunch all
over himself in the car on the way back home, and Dominic could feel
his own vocabulary expanding by leaps and bounds as Billy rattled off a
long list of curses, some in the perverted Mexicanglish that Billy
pretended to know how to speak after what? Three months in Mexico? Now
Billy's stained and wet suit jacket was spread across the back seat,
where it would stay until Billy remembered how to get to the dry
cleaner's.
That should have
sealed the afternoon, really.
But
Billy had other errands to run, all over the city, and Dominic was
trapped in the car with him, bracing himself against the dashboard
during Billy's truly stunning sharp turns and biting his tongue to keep
from screaming as Billy roared up the bumpers of cars ahead of them in
traffic.
It's not that
Billy's an overall shitty driver. On
highways and in the countryside, he’s calm and steady, a comforting,
happy presence behind the wheel. Many times Dominic has fallen asleep
during their drives, eased into dreams by the sound of Billy humming
along to the CD player. But in the city, Billy is a fucking loon, and
no amount of Dominic's persuasion—not even threats of setting certain
hated articles of clothing on fire or promises of earthshaking
blowjobs—will make Billy give up the wheel to his precious car. Nor
will Billy allow himself to be driven anywhere, especially by Dominic
in Dominic's car. “At least my steering wheel stays attached to the dash, Dom,” Billy had
smirked the first time Dominic had suggested he take over the chauffeur
duties.
And
so an hour ago found Billy and Dominic still in the car, still fuming
separately and together over what a hideous day this had become, and it
was all too easy for Billy to say something, for Dominic to respond,
for them both to take each other's words the wrong way. The noise level
in the car reached a pitch unheard since the last time Elijah visited,
and Dominic had to restrain himself from crawling out from underneath
his seatbelt and just fucking clocking Billy across his
broad forehead, damn the obvious potential for damage to the car and,
well, themselves.
It
ended—okay, not really, because it’s not over yet—with Billy's roar for
Dominic to “Shut. The fuck up. Now. Before I fucking leave you unrecognizable,
Dom.” Dominic had huffed dramatically, as he imagined Billy expected
him to do, and sat back in his seat, wondering why Billy was headed for
the city limits now but refusing to ask. For one thing, Dominic was
sure Billy wouldn't give him an answer if he did ask, and for
another, Dominic wasn't sure he really wanted to know.
So
Dominic tried to content himself by staring out the window at the dark
clouds over the city, following them as they made their escape. It was
only when he lowered his eyes to his side mirror that Dominic noticed
the police car, and he sighed.
“Billy—”
“Shut it.”
“Billy, you need
to slow down, now, like—”
“Of course, your worship.
Anything for you.”
“I'm serious,
Billy—”
And
then there was the siren, and the sound of Billy's groan, and Dominic
swallowed the laughter that rose in his throat just in time before
Billy turned and caught his eyes.
Now they are
back on the road,
already out on the highway, and Billy is relaxing a little. He's still
furious, Dominic can tell, but the anger left Dominic's system the
moment Billy stopped the car for the ticket. He’s more tired than
anything else at this point.
When the rain
begins to pound down
on the car, Billy exhales and turns down the music. Dominic knows this
is part of Billy calming down, too—the combination of rain and music
always seems to settle the guy, even at his angriest, and even when the
music just happens to be (to Dominic's abject horror) Echo and the
Bunnymen.
Dominic waits
Billy out, just for a little while, then
reaches and turns down the music a bit more. Somewhat to Dominic's
surprise, Billy does not bark at him or smack his hand away from the
controls. He just continues to drive, lost in the sound of the rain on
the windshield. It's only when Dominic shifts in his seat and stares at
Billy's profile, memorizing again the perfect line and shape of Billy's
jaw and those pouty lips, that Billy even reacts, blinking and
executing a sweet double take.
“Dom, what—”
“Pull over,
Billy.”
Billy's eyes
narrow at first, going almond shape and then flattening,
then widen as Billy reads the message in Dominic's own eyes.
“No,” Billy
snorts suddenly. “Fuck no, Dom. Not after today.”
”Especially
after today, Billy,” Dominic says smoothly, spiderwalking his fingers
over the dashboard, getting closer to the steering column. Billy
doesn’t say anything, just tightens his grip on the wheel and speeds up
a little, making Dominic smile. “That's good. Because you need another
ticket so soon.”
Billy's head
whips around, and his mouth turns
violently before Dominic places two fingers on Billy's lips. “Wait,”
Dominic whispers. “Don't yell. For once don't yell at me.”
Billy
turns back to the road, his forehead now as wrinkled as the suit
jacket, which has slipped to the floor of the backseat. “Y'make me feel
such a fuck, Dom,” Billy murmurs. “Since this morning. I can't always
be the responsible one. I can't make sure you're dressed and ready to
go every day. You're not a fucking child.”
Dominic blinks
at
this, opens his mouth to answer, then closes it again, feeling suddenly
very lost. He allows the rain and music to take over, sitting in the
half–silence. Billy's practically vibrating with other things unsaid,
but Dominic's not quite ready to hear them. Instead, Dominic chews on
his fingernails, sucks in the tips of the fingers he placed on Billy's
lips and slowly, deliberately, plots his next gambit.
After
several moments, Dominic returns to his previous task, letting his
fingers crawl back over the dashboard, and this time Billy's eyes
follow them. Dominic reaches closer, lets the same two fingers that now
smell and taste of both Billy's lips and Dominic's own fall to the
indicator lever, and presses up, making the left turn indicator light
up and dance on Billy's screen.
“Dominic—” Billy
whispers.
“Pull over,”
Dominic says again, harder now. Dominic can see the little bob and
clench of Billy's throat as he does so, gently persuading the car into
a clearing a quarter mile down the road. Billy brings the car to a
stop, but his hands still rest on the wheel.
Billy's fingers
remind Dominic of stick insects, praying mantises and the like. When
Billy is nervous, they flex and dance in the air slowly, delicately. He
would never mention this to Billy, though, not after the time he called
Billy's hands “dainty” and ended up with one of them cracked across his
jaw. Of course, Dominic now knows intimately the power of Billy's
hands, the hard grip of those fingers. He enjoys watching them move and
curl around the leather of the steering wheel this way, and thinks he
could watch Billy's hands all day if Billy let him.
And if he didn't
have something else in mind.
“Get
out of the car, Billy,” Dominic whispers now. The player has jumped to
the next CD, one of Dominic's choices—something vaguely trancey, but
with a soft, lulling vibe and beat to it that makes Dominic wants to do
this well, to make Billy
forgive and be forgiven just from the
touch of Dominic's own hands, not as beautiful as Billy's but just as
talented, out there in the darkness.
“‘S raining,”
Billy
breathes, but he is already unbuckling his seat belt. Only when he is
fully out of the car and squinting into the heavy raindrops, getting
rapidly soaked, does Dominic exit the car himself, slamming the door
and walking around to Billy's side. Billy's hands raise and then clench
into fists, uncertain where they are meant to go, and Dominic smiles.
It
is admittedly rare that Dominic treats Billy this way. Billy's
incredibly dominant in nearly every aspect of their relationship, a
role Dominic allows him because it indulges his own laziness and, more
so, because it's fucking fantastic to watch Billy turn fierce and
demanding and occasionally cruel in bed. It gives Dominic pleasure
beyond his imagination to know there is more to Billy than the sweet,
placid man their friends know and love, and to know that Billy only
gives himself this way to and for Dominic.
Still, it's
shockingly good fun to undo Billy as well, and Dominic’s learning the
right ways to do just that. For one thing, Dominic knows that Billy
loves fucking outside, at night, in the rain, but Dominic's never been
the one doing the fucking, so this will be ... different. And right in so many ways,
especially after today, as he's tried to explain to Billy.
Not
that Billy needs any more explanation, standing this way before
Dominic, his tongue flickering across his lips, catching the rainwater
and waiting for his cue. Billy almost speaks, but then Dominic's
fingers are back again, pressing down on those perfect lips.
“No talking,”
Dominic says clearly, calmly. “No begging. Whatever I say, you do—you
don't fight it, and you don't answer back.”
Billy's
face flushes, but he nods, slowly. Dominic gives an approving sigh,
then brushes his wet hair from his forehead before he tucks his hands
in his pockets.
“Turn around,
Billy. Hands on the car.”
Billy
obeys, his palms flattening against the metal, pale, matte white skin
against glossy, wet black paint. Dominic moves behind him and speaks,
low and gentle, in Billy's ear.
“I love you, you
bastard,”
Dominic hums softly, letting his hands come around to unbuckle Billy's
belt and pull Billy's shirttail from his waist. “Love you enough to
take all the shit you throw at me day in and day out, when all I'm
trying to do is make you laugh. Love you enough to know that you're not
really angry at me, you're angry at yourself for not being the
responsible one, when you told me yourself last night before you fucked
me so well that you really, really
wanted to make that meeting today and have plenty of time to get there.
Love you enough to hurt you now because you need it, because you want
it. So you'll stop kicking yourself so fucking hard, Billy.”
Dominic
watches the corded muscles in Billy's neck and shoulders twitch and
move at his words, and he knows that Billy wants to speak, wants to
yell, but will not. In this, at least, Dominic has found a way to quiet
Billy's anger and release it at the same time.
“Stay still,”
Dominic hisses, pressing himself hard into Billy's back, and Billy's
hands smack at the car before he does stop moving, his breath coming in
shallow pants and puffing clouds into the rapidly chilling night air.
Dominic tugs at Billy's trousers and boxers, pushing them past his slim
hips to pool on the wet ground, before he reaches for the buttons of
his own jeans, tearing them open and releasing his already hard cock.
He presses forward again, letting Billy feel its warmth against him,
and waits for Billy's telltale shudder, the turning of his hips that
signals Dominic that he wants more.
Dominic gives
him just a bit
more, kicking Billy's legs further apart gently and pressing until
Billy gasps and rises on his toes, allowing Dominic better access,
inviting him to take, to do whatever he wants. Dominic laughs and draws
his tongue up the top of Billy's spine and up into the hair that curls
on his neck.
“Ready for me?”
Dominic smiles into Billy's skin.
Billy doesn't speak, and Dominic is something beyond pleased. He runs
one wet hand underneath Billy's shirt, thrilling when Billy's stomach
muscles clench and flutter at his touch. Dominic's other hand finds it
way to Billy's jaw, turning Billy to face him half way. Dominic rests
his lips just barely on Billy's and flicks his tongue out to dance
across the tips of Billy pointed teeth. They both shiver, and a
strangled sound gets lost somewhere on the journey between Billy's
lungs and throat.
“You have ten
seconds,” Dominic whispers as he
touches Billy's lips with his fingers once more. “Do this well, or
you'll regret it more than I will.”
Billy draws in
those rough
fingers expertly, bathing them with his tongue and dragging his teeth
across their tips. Dominic closes his eyes in pleasure and counts out
the seconds, dipping and swirling his fingers around in that warmth,
until he pulls away, leaving Billy's mouth still open and wet and soft.
Dominic's
hand on Billy's stomach is firmer now, keeping him as still as
possible, and a slight tremor of fear runs through Dominic as he
wonders if this is going to be enough. He does not want to actually
harm Billy. He just wants to do for Billy what Billy cannot do himself.
It is a vague feeling, one Dominic cannot hold for long as he bends
just that tiny bit enough to sink into Billy, half an inch at a time.
Billy does not
make a sound.
The
silence is only broken by the rain, which seems to have grown wild and
angry while Billy and Dominic have stood out here—affronted by their
nerve, their sheer cheek in fucking in the middle of a storm. When
Dominic is finally inside him, he reaches again for Billy's face,
turning him this time for an actual kiss, one that starts off demanding
and violent and ends softly, a gift Dominic gives when Billy most needs
it. He knows that the juxtaposition of this tenderness next to the
angry, tearing thrusts between them is exactly what Billy wants to
feel, must feel for them to move on past this fucking miserable day. It
is punishment and praise at once, and for how often Dominic receives
that himself from Billy, he's made utterly joyful by giving it in
return.
But it cannot
last long. Dominic pushes Billy to face
the car again and brings his attention back to fucking him, fucking him
until Billy is gasping for breath and finally releasing the cries he's
been holding down. Dominic allows this, knows it's not actually any
form of speech falling from Billy's lips, and he likes the sound of it
besides. Dominic shakes his head, clearing his vision of the rain as he
pushes away at Billy's body, watching Billy throw his head back and
half–laugh, half–cry, taking Dominic's weight and force like the strong
fucker Billy absolutely is. It’s a beautiful sight, and it turns
something inside Dominic, making him want to finish this now, before he
loses himself completely.
He reaches for
Billy's cock, and Billy
pushes back by instinct, shocked and made even more ready by the
contact. “Now?” Dominic whispers, and Billy nods furiously, tucking his
chin to his chest, bracing himself for this final battle. Dominic grabs
Billy's hips with his free hand and moves quickly, violently, twisting
and stroking Billy's cock in time to his thrusts. Billy stops moving
again, his face flushing, and it's only seconds afterward that he's
coming, hard, crying out and feeling Dominic tense up behind him.
Dominic pushes once more, enough that Billy's hands and arms finally
give, and he sinks against the cold metal of the car as Dominic comes,
chattering and gasping as he always does.
The rain pours
down on
them, and the logistics of the situation cross Dominic's mind like an
invading Russian army, obnoxious but tenacious. Dominic sighs into
Billy's shoulder before he pulls away, turning Billy so he rests
against the car. There are relieved tears streaking down Billy's face,
different from the tracks the rain leaves on his face, and Dominic
takes that face in his hands, kissing Billy slowly, savouring the
delights of Billy's saddened, softened mouth.
“Better?”
Dominic whispers, and Billy nods.
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