Like coming out of a concert, Billy thinks. He thinks this every time one of the premieres is over and after so many of them it's only natural that they've finally become indistinguishable. Watching them from behind glass with a certain brand of indifference until it's over, Billy can't help but hurt. He feels tender, as if he's been tossed between two halves of that crowd all night, two halves that both desperately want to win him. He can't hear himself think over the static buzz in his ears.

He's got his mobile jammed between his ear and shoulder, got Dom's voice rumbly and tired telling him the room number, telling him to please not fall asleep standing up and crack his skull on the expensive vases that line the corridor. Mumbling back something, mmm, sure thing, Dom, just as well that I'm in one peace for the flight tomorrow. He plays with the key card for about two minutes before he realizes he's trying to jam his driver's license into the slot. Takes him another minute to find the real thing and he somehow gets it to work straight away.

The wall to the left of the tiny entranceway is a mirror, and he squints at himself—a sweaty, disheveled mess of white dress shirt and black, pleated trousers. He tugs at the shirt, which has come up halfway out of the waistband of his trousers and, discontented with the adjustment, he jerkily undoes the buttons and frees it from under the cinch of belt. The dim light from the hallway catches his exposed chest as he turns.

Dom's watching him from the bedroom part of the rather small hotel room, one leg propped up at an angle to the sheets and the rest of his body sprawled comfortably. Billy watches in sleepy distraction as Dom gets up and comes towards him. He falls forward and Dom takes him in arm in a manner that's almost rehearsed.

"Mmm," Dom hums against Billy's exposed neck, and cradles the head that's fallen on his shoulder. "Tired?"

Billy mumbles a reply and pushes his face harder into Dom's neck, inhaling the only familiar thing he's come in contact with for hours. "You had better be stayin'..."

Dom smiles and Billy feels it. The smile becomes a kiss against the back of his neck, soft and hot with breath that brings up goosebumps. "You reckon I should?"

Dom's fingertips come up between them, spreading over Billy's stomach. He pushes Billy upright and curls his hands up and around Billy's shoulders, shoving the wrinkled white shirt until it clings only to Billy's wrists. It sticks there, held by the cuff buttons and on the right side by Billy's watch. Dom carefully undoes the buttons and then the watchband, tossing both at the foot of the bed.

"Gonna take care of me?" Billy asks, half-asleep, with a breathy laugh lodged in his throat.

Dom smirks and draws Billy by his belt onto the bed. "You look like you need some of that." He flips the buckle and draws the leather free of the trousers loops. "Know what I'd like?"

Billy allows himself to be pushed down, barely noticing Dom's fingers on his fly. The sheets are warm and smell like Dom's after-shave. "What's that?"

"Want you to close your eyes," Dom breathes against Billy's ear, bent over him, "and get cozy...and let your mind shut off...while I say goodnight to Little William, here."

Billy laughs, turning his cheek against the pillow, eyelids quivering. Dom's laughter is silent, nothing more than a gentle rumble against Billy's chest. "Why haven't I married you yet?"

And Dom smirks, because that's the sort of thing Billy says only when he's completely out of it. "Because I'd look dreadful in a gown. Now close your eyes."

Billy doesn't keep track for long. He feels Dom's mouth on his belly and then his hip, and then an explosion of sensation and wetness that he assumes is Dom's mouth on his cock. But it's thick and groggy and the lag between his brain and firing nerves is strong; and he's half-asleep and moving only faintly into the wet pressure. It's amazing, almost forgetting he's getting the attention, because when he comes his whole body is twisted and wrenched to awareness and suddenly he isn't asleep and the pleasure rockets free of his groin in a matter of seconds, an honest and complete shock to every inch of his body.

Panting, his eyes roll open, eyelids lifting as if weighted just in time to see Dom licking the corner of his mouth and lifting up off his elbows. They lock eyes briefly. Billy's hands reach just enough to find Dom's sides and, with the last bit of strength, pull Dom down on top of his body.

The white shirt glows at the foot of the bed. It's the last thing Billy sees before Dom's face drops to his, blocking out the world.