home

Title: Knot
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: BB/DM
Note: Oh, my god what a day. Porn? Porn. This was originally written in a comment thread for [info]1guiltypleasure, but luckily I found it on my hd at home. Unfinished, but maybe it should stay that way. I rather like leaving it hang there.


Dominic keeps expecting Billy to snap it off, like a movie villain or summat. But Billy never does anything even remotely silly with his ties, not even swat them in Dominic's direction. This is more than likely because they're not cheap, Dominic thinks, but also because Billy seems to know that Dominic's always watching him loosen his ties, tucking one finger into the space between his collar and the fabric, moving his hand slowly from side to side, inching the material loose so gently there's hardly ever a wrinkle afterward. He hardly ever does the turtle–chin move, either: the motion of jaw and neck–stretch that never looks good on anyone.

And that little sound, the shhh of fabric against shirt as the tie slides away? That has to be on the list of Dominic's Top Ten Billy–Related Sounds, somewhere between the way Billy says "ready to go?" and the sharp hitch in Billy's breath just before he falls asleep (the hitch that tells Dominic Billy's had his nightly falling-off-the-side-of-the-bed dream, a dream that has led Dominic to more than once threaten to use one of Billy's precious ties to bind him to the headboard just so there's no chance he'll fall off).

Billy's very careful with his ties. Dominic knows this, and it's ceased to be something amusing or even worthy of a piss–take. No, it's almost become a challenge to Dominic to see those ties abused a bit, and he's never been one to back down from a challenge. He waits hours one night for that silly little hitch of breath to rush from Billy's throat, and then waits some more until he's certain Billy has fallen into a deep sleep. It's simple then to slide from Billy's bed and stand in front of his closet, reaching for tie after tie in the darkness. Three knots, five, and Dominic's looped himself a good run of multi–coloured silk, stronger than he'd imagined it could ever feel, and rather unyielding when it comes down to it. The material doesn't split when he tugs at either end, and not for the first time does he smile at Billy's attention to detail. The quality he demands in his ties will serve both their purposes now.

Dominic learned how to crawl up a bed silently years ago, when it was almost mandatory if he wanted to catch Elijah mid–sleep and pretend to suffocate him with the spare pillow. The knowledge, once gained, never really disappears, in the same way that once you've tied one Scotsman to the bed, you've tied them all, right?

Well, not really. For one thing, Dominic's never tied any Scotsmen to the bed, and Billy's probably not the best choice for the first. Another thing Dominic's learned is that Billy hates surprises, and this will be one he'll neither forget nor forgive. But Dominic's certain it will be worth it, whatever the cost. He barely holds down his own laughter when Billy stirs in his sleep, twisting and falling to his back—exactly where Dominic wants him. Just to be sure Billy's still safely asleep, Dominic trails the very end of his expensive new toy down Billy's chest, letting the tip tickle Billy's stomach. There's nothing, not even a twitch of muscle, and Dominic smiles again, leaning forward on his knees to gauge the strength of the headboard with one hand. It doesn't squeak or crack or do any of the things Dominic fears, so that's good.

Almost as good as this whole idea, actually.

But Dominic realizes now that he hasn't quite planned this out as well as he could have. He's not sure how he wants to tie Billy down—arms apart, wrists to either post of the headboard, or hands above his head, wrists touching so Billy can grab his own hand and the spindles too should he need to, you know, grab something, and that something is not going to be Dominic.

In truth, Dominic knows that if he makes one wrong move here, Billy will wake and see what's been done to these few of his beloved collection of ties, and he'll either turn the situation around and throw Dominic to the bed, tying him up and spinning him out so hard he'll renounce his ancestry and acknowledge that Scotland really is the seat of all that's good in the world, or Billy will simply toss him out of his bed completely, forbidding him access to more than his own right hand for at least a week (Dominic still carries the memory of the unfortunate incident with the ice cream and the airing cupboard, as do most of their fans, alas. At least Billy had the courtesy to only share the most innocuous and amusing of his devised punishments, and not the more, well, private and uncomfortable details).

But yes, Dominic determines after another moment's thought. It's definitely worth it. And as he gathers up the long, smooth fabric in one hand and Billy's right wrist in the other, Dominic begins to believe that this will go down as one of his better ideas.

Billy's palm is incredibly soft, soft like the ties, and Dominic wonders just for a moment if he might be better off just waking Billy gently instead, pulling him out of his sleep and into Dominic's arms for a long, slow slide of body against body, skin against skin that would leave them both set in the way of dreams for at least the next month. It would be lovely, after all—just as brilliant in its own way as straddling Billy and watching him wake all by himself and come to realize how trapped he is.

Dominic allows himself both happy images, weighs them as he does the silk, and snorts. There'll be plenty of time for romance some other night. Tonight, Billy's nearly out cold, and besides which, Dominic's already done half the damage. These ties are going to need more than a trip to Sketchley's by the time he's done with them.

He's not as good as Billy when it comes to tying knots. Dominic acknowledges this, but that doesn't mean he can't do an adequate job. He's not out to restrain anything stronger than a squirming little bastard, after all. And Dominic fully expects that after only a few moments in captivity, Billy will cease whatever struggle he initiates in favour of Dominic's attention. In favour of Dominic's hands and teeth and tongue. So he wraps a length of the silk around Billy's wrist, careful not to pull it taut just yet. He's learned under Billy's tutelage that at least in his own case, it's less about the restriction of blood flow to his skin than it is about the restriction of movement—the denial of touch, the denial of control. Dominic can accomplish his goals without cutting off Billy's circulation, and if Billy does choose to struggle, it'll just be a bonus to see the fabric tighten around his wrists.

One wrist done, and Dominic loops the long rope o'ties around two spindles of Billy's headboard, drawing the material back out and around to the other side of Billy's still–sleeping head.

Dominic slides himself over Billy, silent as before, and works faster now at the other wrist, his confidence soaring with every second Billy remains quiet. He sits back carefully, peering down at his handiwork with a little smile—Billy's wrists bound neatly but firmly above his head, and the length of silk between them wrapped well between the spindles. It's a gorgeous sight, made more so by the way Billy's chest has risen slightly, his back a little bit arched to accommodate and unconsciously soothe the slight discomfort he's obviously feeling even in his rest.

It's taking everything Dominic has for him not to go and get the video camera now.

There might have been a time for that, back in Mexico—back when Billy would do this to Dominic more as a joke than anything else, before Billy pulled back the sheets one morning to find Dominic hard and ready for him, even though he'd been restrained half the night. Billy would sometimes teach him the names of the each knot as he made them, twisting the rope in the darkness and cooing the words in Dominic's ear. If Dominic remembered the names in the morning, Billy would undo the knots. If he forgot, the knots became just a touch tighter, for just a touch longer.

Dominic became an expert at forgetting those names.


home