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Title: Pageturner
Author: kiltsandlollies
Pairing: bb/dm
Rating: PG-13
Note: For almaviva, bonne anniversaire <3

It’s the strangest sound Dominic’s ever heard: a slow, ripping noise that’s like a papery bandage being ripped from some kind of mutant skin. He hears it first in his half–sleep, in the makeup chair having the Feet removed on an early Thursday evening. His eyebrows knit at the sound, but he’s too tired to mention it aloud, much less turn and find its source. A few minutes later it happens again, and then once more, and Dominic frowns, but again says nothing. As one who specializes in making odd noises at odd times (and as one guilty of encouraging others to do the same), he’s in no position to make a fuss over another Hobbit’s new, nervous habit.

It has to be one of the Hobbits, after all, because the Weta technicians are too busy to make unnecessary noises or even chat unless spoken to, and at this point of the day—night—hardly anyone speaks anyway. The next time he hears the little rip, Dominic lets one eye open halfway (ignoring the disgusted squeak Elijah always makes when he does so) in hopes of catching the noisemaker at his unpleasant work—but to no avail. The Weta people begin packing their things away, and then suddenly the Hobbits are outside, making their slow, silent way to waiting cars.

It’s close to complete darkness now, and Dominic’s too exhausted to accept even Billy’s invitation for a quick dinner out before he falls into bed. He will, however, take the ride Billy offers instead, and Billy’s guest bedroom, too—anything to get away from the trailers and noise.

Dominic knows he can depend on Billy for quiet. Early to bed, early to rise, Billy is living proof that a relatively quiet—if occasionally whiskey–soaked—life reaps good rewards.

So, it’s an incredible annoyance when Dominic, flat on his back and teetering on the edge of hard, perfect sleep, hears that noise again, muffled somewhat but still very much there. He grinds his teeth and sits up slowly, waiting to hear it again to be sure he’s not losing his mind. But no, he’s not; the noise is there, and Dominic listens harder, leaving the bedroom and following the sounds—spaced about 90 seconds apart and with added bonus now of a whispery ssst, like the sound of a quill pen’s feather hitting a cymbal—straight to the cracked–open door of Billy’s room.

These obnoxious sounds, the ripping and the sssting and whatever the hell else, are coming from Billy, the only source of quiet Dominic’s been able to find for weeks. And were he not quite so tired, Dominic might find this amusing. But tonight it’s going to drive him insane unless it stops—and only the sliver of etiquette he’s managed to hold on to since really getting to know his fellow Hobbits keeps him from entering Billy’s bedroom and thumping him over the head repeatedly, all in the name of a bit of quiet.

Instead, he nudges the door open just a bit more, and sticks his head inside, an exhausted smile on his face.

“You mind if I close this?”

Startled, Billy looks up from his book, and Dominic has to laugh. Billy’s hair is sticking up from his shower, and his tee shirt (the black UFO crash site one that Dominic loves and has tried to steal close to five times with absolutely no success, each time earning himself the it wouldn’t fit you anyway lecture from an exasperated but also very amused Billy) and boxers are wrinkled and bunched up, as if Billy’s hardly bothered to pull them on correctly.

“No, no,” Billy stutters. “Of course not. ‘m I keeping you awake?”

Dominic shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. Just—I’m a terrible sleeper, and my snoring, the congestion, all that. Think I’ll keep my suffering to myself.”

Billy laughs, and relaxes. “You’re too good to me.”

“So, yeah. See you in the morning. Feet.” Dominic’s impressed he’s managed that complete of a sentence, and more so when Billy comprehends it, nodding.

“Right. Sleep well.”

Dominic raises one hand in response and turns, closing the door behind him. He stumbles back across the hall and shuts the guest bedroom door too, before crawling back up into the bed. A thought crosses his mind about the book Billy was reading, but he’s too far gone to chase it down, and as he succumbs to sleep, Dominic acknowledges to himself that not for the first time, he is likely to dream of Billy—perhaps of books, too. It’s a pleasant notion.

And seeing how his dreams rarely involve any but the gentlest of sounds, Dominic falls into them eagerly now, waking only after Billy’s third hard shove seven and a half hours later.

-------

Dominic listens intently for the noise as they sit in makeup, but there is only the sound of Elijah’s music, and the creak of Elijah’s chair as his head bobs in time to that music. Billy is strangely enough not reading this morning, and Dominic sneaks glances at him often until he’s finally caught. Billy’s smile is very sweet in return, until he yawns and his face crumples up like a little boy’s. The makeup artist huffs, and Billy mumbles an apology before he smiles again at Dominic.

Dominic smiles too, and wonders why he can suddenly see far past the Pippin wig and envision Billy only as he was last night, with messy, soft hair and his legs tucked up underneath him in bed. Dominic remembers that Billy’s right foot was tight up near his left thigh, his ankle almost hooked inside the hem of his boxers. Why that detail remains, Dominic has no idea, but it makes him blush and look away finally from Billy, who does not seem to notice.

Billy’s book was resting on his left thigh, too, Dominic thinks, and it looked—well, a bit ratty. Abused, even, and thick, too. A big book, one Billy must be making his way through slowly. Dominic reminds himself to ask Billy about it later, but as the day goes by, too many other things—including the lack of that new noise, almost as annoying in its absence as it was in its very full presence—distract him. It’s only when he is released sooner than Billy from close ups that he remembers, and he clicks his tongue in mild irritation until he finds himself alone in the trailer he and Billy share while filming on the Rivendell set.

Alone with Billy’s bag, open on the couch and exposing the very book Billy had been reading.

The first thing that strikes Dominic is that he was right: the large, heavy paperback book has taken a beating from Billy, its spine cracked and bent at the top, and the cover and first one hundred and something pages missing entirely. Dominic raises his eyebrows and flips through the several hundred pages that remain, thrilled when he recognizes story after story in this particular collection. He’s still peering through it when he hears Billy’s voice calling from outside, bidding a goodnight to someone, probably Elijah. Dominic pushes the book back inside Billy’s rucksack and retreats to the other couch, sprawling (rather elegantly, he would say) and looking as if he’s been there for hours.

“Dom!” Billy says as he enters, and he looks pleased. “Thought you might have gone home.”

“I was reading,” Dominic laughs, and then coughs as he realizes there is no book anywhere within his reach. “You hungry? Want to get some Thai?”

Billy’s eyes light up, and he nods even as he stretches hard and yawns again. “Give me five minutes.”

“I’ll give you hours,” Dominic replies, and blinks as they stare at each other for a moment before the laughter comes to rescue them both.

“Good,” Billy says, reaching to ruffle Dominic’s short hair. “’Cause I may need them.”

But hours later Billy’s proven he didn’t need them after all. They sit facing each other in the little Thai restaurant a few blocks from Billy’s house, several empty plates and more than a few empty bottles between them.

“I can’t move,” Dominic moans, and yet still reaches for two more lychees, gathering them up in his fingers along with a small quantity of crushed ice from underneath the pale pink fruit. “I’m sleeping here. Until Feet.”

Billy giggles, his nose and cheeks red from the alcohol. “Lazy git.”

“Fucking yes. I don’t even the energy to argue with you.”

“See, now that’s the pinnacle of laziness—"

“Pinnacle yourself, pillock.”

“You’re pathetic, Monaghan—" A napkin to his face quiets Billy, and then his giggles return, louder than before. “Don’t you get me thrown from this place, Dom.”

“Take me home,” Dominic mutters, his eyes closing, and opening a few seconds later, after Billy has not yet responded. When he meets Billy’s stare, Dominic swallows, waiting.

“Of course,” Billy says softly. “Let’s go home, read a bit and get some sleep.”

“And a shower.”

“And a shower.” Billy nods. “Think you can walk outside? We need a taxi.”

“I can try.” Dominic rises from his seat on very light legs,, following Billy out into what has become a beautiful night. They both peer up into the sky and smile, until Billy moves to his car, pulling his and Dominic’s rucksacks from the back.

“You can just leave them,” Dominic says, still entranced by the stars. Billy shakes his head.

“My book’s in mine,” he says, walking back to Dominic’s side. “Can’t seem to sleep without it.”

--------

Dominic tosses a bit in Billy’s guest bedroom, uncomfortable for what could be hundreds of reasons, beginning with the fact that he doesn’t feel refreshed after his shower, having spent most of it lost in thought until the water began to run cold. And Billy keeps his home colder than Dominic likes, although that hadn’t seemed to bother him last night, tired as he was.

And then there is the noise, back with a vengeance.

Dominic kicks at his sheets and walks back across the hall, pushing Billy’s door open again and standing at the edge of the bed, bright eyed and looking for words.

“Dom?” Billy stares at him, confused, and Dominic looks down at his hands before answering.

“Can’t sleep. I keep … I keep hearing this noise.”

Billy’s eyebrows shoot up, and his expression is amused. “Not your snoring?”

“I don’t—I mean, no, not that. It’s like a tearing—never mind, Can I just—let me bunk in with you for a bit?”

“Of course.” Billy says again, with no hesitation, surrendering a pillow and pulling back his sheets. “Is it alright if I keep reading for a bit longer?”

Dominic nods, stretching out on his stomach before curling his arms around the pillow. Billy shifts to make room, returning to his book as though there could be nothing unusual about sharing his bed with his best friend—and of course there isn’t. They share almost everything else, so why not? Dominic watches him, relishing this glimpse of Billy at his quietest, before his eyes begin to fall shut. And once again he is on the cusp of sleep when that noise returns, right next to his ear, and it’s enough to make Dominic want to kill Billy.

“That’s it,” he hisses. Billy lets out a whoop of surprise when Dominic looms over him, a slightly more attractive Gollum searching Billy’s Frodo for the ring. “Where is it? What are you doing?”

“Dom, what on earth—"

“That noise. You’re making it—you just did it. You tore something—"

And Dominic could punch himself for being such an idiot.

Yes, Billy is making that noise, tearing pages from his enormous book as he reads them and letting them fall to the ground when he is in bed and to the bottom of his bag when he is at work. He’d seen Billy do it before, early in shooting, and joked about it to others, and though it’s never bothered him so much before, he’s also never understood why Billy does it. And it’s suddenly vitally important that he knows, before he can sleep—again or ever.

“Why d’you destroy your books, Billy? Why the mess? Why the noise?”

“Dom, you have lost what little mind you had—"

“Look at that.” Dominic points to the pile of ivory pages on the floor. “That’s a book, Billy, or it used to be. What are you thinking?”

“It’s a paperback, Dom,” Billy says, as it that explains everything. “I don’t understand—"

“Well, neither do I.” Dominic huffs. “You’re the noise I’ve been hearing. That ripping sound. It’s been driving me up a fucking wall. Even when I don’t hear it.”

“I think you need sleep, Dom.”

Dominic rolls his eyes. “Just tell me why you do it.”

Billy’s expression is patient, but there’s a darkness to his eyes that Dominic’s not seen before.

“You know I worked in a bindery, yeah?” Dominic nods, and Billy continues. “Right. So. I read almost everything we printed up, and I thought we did a good job, you know? Then, there were these sackings …” Billy takes a breath. “Most of my friends were made redundant, Dom. I don’t know why they kept me. They rehired everyone when things got better, but … I lost respect for what we did, and I noticed things I hadn’t before, like how poorly made some of these books were, and I got—careless. I picked up a book I’d seen run one afternoon and it fell apart in my hands while it was still warm and reeking of glue—aren’t y’glad you asked this?”

Dominic rolls his eyes again, and Billy continues.

“Anyway, I’d had enough of paperback books. And I don’t think I’ve been able to get past that. It’s just a habit. A mark of how little I care for what I’m reading, I guess.”

“Did you tear up Rings?” Dominic asks, thumbing through Billy’s mutilated book, and Billy laughs.

“No. I did drop it in the bath, though. So if I stop tearing me book up, can you sleep?”

Dominic looks up again. “Are you ready to go to sleep?”

“I thought you were. Thought the ripping—"

Dominic nods. “Right. Well, if you’re ready too, then—"

“Of course.”

---------

Dominic wakes with a start long before Billy, and he experiences a moment of complete horror before he realizes it’s Saturday. They’re not obligated to be anywhere, much less Feet or makeup, and he flops back down to his pillow, so grateful he could cry. Billy mumbles something in his sleep, and Dominic turns over to look at him, grateful for a rather different reason.

They hadn’t slept the entire night away, after all. Yes, there had been the awkward silence after Billy had turned off the light, and they had tried to sleep, but Dominic’s hand had brushed Billy’s arm in the dark, and Billy had spun around in surprise and then—later—moved closer, and closer still.

It had taken a long time, but Dominic had pried more of Billy’s story from him, more of his life and more of his fears. Billy had said more in a few quiet sentences than he had in months of banter, and Dominic had listened like a classroom of rapt schoolchildren. And then, when things grew quiet again, Dominic had pressed his fingers to Billy’s cheek and stroked along the bone there, moving to travel over Billy’s eyelids and then his lips, and everything seemed to change—slowly, but at the perfect pace for both of them.

Dominic thinks of it now as the turning of Billy’s pages, making his way through the book of Billy’s secrets. Billy is something of an enthralling story for Dominic; always has been, actually, now that Dominic allows himself to think hard on it. And at this moment, staring at Billy’s messy hair and pale face and bare chest, Dominic knows that it will take him months, perhaps years, to get through the entire plot and love all the characters. He’s not sure if Billy actually wants him to know everything yet, and that’s alright. No matter what pages Billy tears from himself before Dominic has a chance to read them, Dominic intends to hunt them down and find them on the floor and in Billy’s bag—and wherever else Billy hides his thoughts and feelings. But for now, he nudges Billy gently awake with promises of breakfast at Fidel’s and a walk to the record store—and maybe another errand or two.

He eventually leaves Billy for a moment obsessing over the many rows of classical CDs, and makes a break for the bookstore across the street. He’s back before Billy even notices he’s gone missing, and where yesterday that might have made Dominic a bit snarky and hurt, today it makes him ridiculously happy. He has a secret, a surprise for Billy, and he can hardly wait to see Billy’s reaction.

They spend the rest of the day much as they do any other day off, and for that too Dominic is grateful. He doesn’t want this to become weird. They are friends first, and always, and he hates even the idea that they could become uncomfortable with one another. Billy doesn’t seem as concerned or nervous, but then that’s Billy, hidden under layers of text and subtext, pages and pages of character development.

Even over a long dinner with Elijah and Sean and Orlando, Dominic cannot stop smiling. Elijah pokes and prods, following Dominic to the bar until Dominic confesses just what has him so satisfied with himself, and when Elijah’s reaction is to hug him breathless, Dominic feels like he might just float away. They spend the rest of the evening surrounded by friends and plan holidays at the end of the month, perhaps to Thailand—an idea that makes Billy’s eyes light up again with the promise of food and drink.

Much later, Astin and Billy cry exhaustion at the same time, and the evening ends. Dominic drives Billy’s car back home—Billy’s home—and they talk and touch for a few moments in the front room before they stumble back into Billy’s bed, When Billy settles into his pillows and reaches for his tattered copy of The Complete Sherlock Holmes, he releases a surprised little gasp that almost covers Dominic’s gurgling laughter.

“Dom, what is this?”

“Your book,” Dominic yawns, curling already around Billy’s side and wrapping the sheet around himself.

“But it’s—"

“In hardback.” Dominic smiles. “So you can get some peace—"

Billy’s face is flushed with joy and embarrassment at once, and perhaps a little love, as well. “Dom …”

“And I can get some sleep.”

Billy laughs, deep and throaty, and then sighs, his fingers moving through the thicker pages and caressing the very fine leather cover. “Thank you for this. I love it.” He looks down at Dominic, smacking his shoulder affectionately. “Really, thank you.”

“Of course,” Dominic says, and smiles before he drifts into the following quiet—and then into sleep.


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