Title: Boys’ Night In (part five)
Author: mirith
Group: Mostly Billy/Dom, with a touch of Elijah.
Rating: NC-17, baby.
Summary: Who's the top and who's the bottom? With actors, you never know.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them; they own me. This is completely fictional, but there's a crispy five-dollar bill in it for them if they make it happen.
Feedback: The people who write it rule my universe.
Written: October 10-18, 2005. Update: October 21, 2005.
For: snoopydance4me. Happy birthday, dear lamb.


The problem with being an actor, thinks Dom, is that when you pretend to feel something, you start feeling it.

Billy has just asked him to play hard to get, and now that they’re wrapped up in a shared duvet on the balcony floor, Dom is feeling genuinely nervous. He doesn’t remember telling Billy to part his bathrobe and run his fingers over his nipple. He doesn’t remember telling Billy to lick his ear, and he certainly doesn’t remember telling Billy, clad in a grey T-shirt and Elijah’s silk boxers, to climb into his lap, facing him, and rub his hardness in long, smooth strokes against Dom’s responding crotch. But Billy is doing these things and more, and he's doing them on a very public hotel balcony adjacent to a streetlight.

“Jesus, Bill.” Dom cranes his neck around, trying to get a grip on how many people are around. It’s late, so the streets aren’t crowded, but he can still hear the murmurs of conversation wafting up from the sidewalk below.

“Mmm,” says Billy. He swings his legs around Dom’s waist and wraps his arms around Dom’s neck, until Dom is completely enveloped by his clinging lover. Were it not for the heavy breathing, Dom would think Billy was auditioning for the role of a second duvet.

“Bill, please.” Dom drums anxious fingers on Billy’s bare thigh. “Let’s go inside.”

“Lie back, and I will.”

“Inside the room. Not inside me. C’mon.”

“Don’t you trust me, Dommeh?” Billy licks a slow trail from Dom’s collarbone to his ear, then nips at the lobe.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“If it would make it easier on you, I could get out the neckties,” says Billy, his voice low and confidential. “Then, if anyone saw me fucking you” – Dom’s heart inadvertently stutters at this – “they’d know you were my captive.”

This is Billy’s way of saying he could tie Dom up. Billy brought four neckties, all gifts from well-meaning relatives, to New Zealand. To date, Dom has never seen him use them for anything but binding Dom’s naked body to every piece of furniture in the trailer.

“You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. I love having you at my mercy.”

“Mmm. Because naturally, you're planning to show some.”

Billy quirks the left side of his mouth in a half-smile, and his eyes glitter with the light from the street lamp. “I love that about you.”

"My logic?"

"Your optimism." And Billy pinches Dom's nipple, hard, and Dom knows then that Elijah is not the only one who is owned.

A car drives down a nearby hill. Light from its headlamps cascades over Billy's handsome features. He smells good, looks good, feels good, but Dom, for once, does not want to be the number-one attraction for miles, and if Billy has his way with him on this balcony, he will be.

“At least come with me to Elijah’s room," he gasps, as Billy molests him further. "It’s...ahhh...empty.”

“You don’t want him to watch me fucking you? But you’re so pretty, flat on your back, sweetheart.” Billy licks his lips. “Especially when you’ve got company.”

Dom’s mouth opens slightly. “Got company” is Billy’s euphemism for “got me sexing you brainless.” He loves, loves, loves Billy’s lilting, soaring, diving voice, and he can feel his eyes glazing over at the thought of Billy on top of him. Belabouring him. In his current state of theatre-turned-life modesty, he can’t even think the word “fuck” right now. Then the sliding door goes white with passing light again, and Dom remembers fear.

He’s still deciding what to do when Billy comes back with the neckties. Dom makes to rise, but Billy pushes him back down.

“Didn’t you want to tie me to a headboard somewhere?” Dom wants to know. “Not that I’m insisting. In fact, let’s do something else. Let’s go see what’s in Elijah’s mini-bar. And drink it.”

“For such a smart lad,” says Billy, “you can be so unobservant.” He kneels next to Dom and begins tying one of the neckties to Dom’s left wrist. Dom feels his pulse beating against the restraint.

“Erm, thanks. How so?”

“We spent hours in that bed, and you still haven’t noticed it has no headboard.”

Oh.

“Bills. What are you going to tie me to?”

Two minutes later, Dom is flat on his back on the duvet. Both of his arms have been lashed to the balcony railings, and the responsible party, if instigating foreplay on a balcony qualifies as "responsible," is sitting on Dom's suggestible mid-section.

“Oh, God,” says Dom, and then he says nothing else, because Billy’s tongue is in the way.

“Make it fast, then,” says Dom, once Billy allows him up for air. He’s so agitated, he forgets to exhale.

“No,” says Billy, languidly trailing his fingers through Dom’s hair. “I think I’ll take it slow.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“I think you’ll be interested to know why I’m not tying your feet,” says Billy. “It’s because I like when your legs lock around my waist.”

“I don’t do that!” sputters Dom, feeling unreasonably mortified. Hours before, he would have been willing to have “for locking around Billy’s waist” tattooed to each of the limbs in question. But once he’s in character, it takes some effort to get out.

“Yes, you do,” says Billy. “You’re just usually so far gone by then that you don’t know what you’re doing. Would you like to know why I’m not gagging you?”

“So I have a fair chance to talk you out of this?”

“No. Because I love those noises you make.” Billy rolls off Dom and comes to rest next to him, his shoulder nestled in his lover’s armpit. Dom can feel Billy’s body pressing against him from torso to feet, reminding him of how well, physically, they match up. Even standing up, everything about them comes to the same level -- their eyes, their mouths, their hips. Grey eyes meet green, brash mouth meets wry, and it's almost impossible for them not to take it further. Really, thinks Dom. It's a wonder we stayed platonic as long as we did.

“Do you want to know how you sound when I’m in you? Really, Dommeh, you say the sweetest things.”

Not waiting for a reply, Billy brings his mouth close to Dom’s ear. His breath goes jagged, then catches. He whimpers. He moans. The noises are so quiet that Dom strains to hear them. His groin floods with heat, and he realizes with dismay that the head of his cock is now straining out of his bathrobe and into the cool night air.

“Got yeh,” says Billy, wickedly. He draws the fabric of the bathrobe to cover Dom, his hand lingering over sensitive skin as he does so. Dom could interpret this as a chivalrous gesture, but it seems more like an excuse for a quick feel. He swallows.

“I’m going to get some supplies,” says Billy. “You wait here.” As if that were even open to question.

“Billy…”

“I’ll only be gone a second. Or perhaps you’d like me to whistle for Elijah to get them? It seems a shame not to wake him. I’m sure he’d love to see you laid out like this.”

“No, no, no,” says Dom, his entire face a hot blush. “Just get them and come back.” The trussing has left him a human sacrifice to Billy's exhibitionist predations, and he's well aware of how vulnerable he is. It's not a position he's accustomed to.

Billy returns a bottle of lube in his teeth and his arms laden with pillows: one for Dom’s head, and two for Dom’s arse. He drops the lube, then guides the pillows into position with deft, knowing hands. The fact that his behind is getting more special attention than his head is not lost on Dom.

“Do I need all that many pillows there?” Dom wants to know. The higher his bits are, the more likely they are to be lit by traffic coming down the hill. And while he's been known to give theem the occasional public airing, he's had little practice at doing so on someone else's terms.

“No,” says Billy. “I could just hook your calves over my shoulders. That would lift your arse plenty. Give me all sorts of access.” Kneeling down next to his lover, Billy gives one of his legs an experimental tug, testing it for heft.

With a start, Dom realizes that the feeling of air caressing the lower part of his balls means that his robe, though still cinched at the waist, has fallen open further down. He looks down, blanches, and presses his thighs together.

“Lovely view, isn’t it? It’s all right, you can look. It’s not as if you can really help it, with your lower half in the air like this. Do you want me to cover you?”

“Yes.” Dom nods as though his neck has come unhinged. As if Billy is slowly unhinging him, piece by piece.

“All right, then.” Billy climbs on top of Dom, lets Dom feel the insistence in his hips.

“I meant with the robe.”

“I meant with me,” says Billy. He licks the hollow at the base of Dom’s neck.

Dom gurgles. It’s very hard to think when Billy is licking him. Blasted nervous system, connecting every point in his body to his cock. And now Billy is urging Dom’s thighs apart with his knee, and against Dom’s better judgement, they spread like butter. Billy kneels between Dom’s legs, then brings his chest down to rest on Dom’s own. The contact makes Dom's heart speed up.

“I’m going to make love to you, Dommeh,” says Billy. “But first, I’m going to play with you. I'm sure you won't mind.” Billy runs his fingers down Dom’s arm from wrist to armpit, reminding him that he’s not in a position to deny Billy anything. Dom’s cock twitches hard against Billy’s stomach.

And then Billy is everywhere.

Billy is the mouth sucking on Dom’s neck, and the teeth that bite down. He is the cheek nuzzling Dom’s chest, and the hand taking possession of one hip. He is the warm breath against Dom’s ticklish stomach. He is the hand stroking Dom’s tensed thigh, then reaching back to cup Dom’s arse. He is the fingernail that runs, feather-light, along Dom’s cleft, stopping before it reaches the sensitive nerve endings of the opening there. And just when Dom thinks that he might get some real attention, something warm and wet and nakedly sexual, Billy becomes the breath in Dom’s ear; the fingers in Dom’s hair; the thumb lightly circling, but not touching, the painfully expectant nipple.

“Billy,” Dom moans. “Oh, fuck, Billy.”

“You make me so hard, Dommeh. Just touching you like this. Would you like to see?”

“Yeah,” says Dom. He notes with relief that his assumed character is crumbling, a casualty of Billy’s talented hands. “Fucking bring it.”

So Billy straddles him, his thighs nestled in Dom’s armpits, his boxer-clad cock so close to Dom’s face that Dom can smell him, earthy and dark. He picks up the scent of another man as well.

What the hell? Oh, right. These aren’t Billy’s boxers.

Grasping the balcony railing, Billy leans forward to run his cock over Dom’s jaw. Dom pursues him with his mouth, but Billy is agile, and it’s some time before Dom manages to lick him through the black silk. Billy gasps and jerks his hips back, out of Dom’s reach.

“Naughty,” says Billy.

“We try,” says Dom.

“If you want to suck it,” breathes Billy, “just say so. Do you want that, sweetheart?”

“Shit, yes.”

“Then tell me.”

“Billy,” says Dom. “Please put your big, drooling cock in my mouth. I want to suck it for you.”

Billy is breathing faster now. “And how badly do you want it?” he asks, rubbing the silk-sheathed tip against Dom’s lips, then drawing it out of reach again.

“So fucking bad. If you sat back down, you’d feel how hard I am for you, Billy. My cock is practically weeping, just because I’m thinking about how you taste. Please, baby, put it in my mouth. I can make it so wet for you.”

“I’ll bet you can,” says Billy, his cock quivering. He inches his hips a little closer to Dom’s face.

“I’ll be sweet for you, so sweet and wet and tight. Please, baby, let me suck it.”

And with that, Billy reaches into the boxers and pulls out his cock and balls. His erection quivers just inches from Dom’s mouth. Dom inhales, lets the secret scent of his lover make his pupils go slack.

“I don’t know,” says Billy, his voice beguiling and low. “Maybe just for a moment. Don’t make me come. I don’t want to come until I’m deep in your beautiful arse.”

Dom makes no promises, just licks his lips until he’s sure they’re glistening. Then parts them. And Billy settles his hips until just the head of his cock is inside Dom’s mouth.

Dom laps. He sucks. He lets his tongue flicker, just the way Billy likes it, on the underside, where purple head meets scarlet shaft.

Billy moans. He drifts a little further into the offered mouth, then catches himself and draws back until only the tip remains inside.

Dom swirls his tongue around the swollen flesh, courting it. Trying to will it a little further in. Gasping, Billy pushes in several inches. Dom feels a rush of triumph.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” says Billy, pulling back again. “You pulled me in. It's that prehensile tongue.”

Fair enough, thinks Dom. Your fucking voice is prehensile. The same for your scent, your taste, your feel. Your darting, impossible mind. Everything about you grabs hold of me and draws me in.

Billy scoots backwards, dragging his hard-on over Dom’s willing body. Dom can feel it painting a trail of his own saliva over his chest, bare where the bathrobe has fallen away. Anointing him. He whimpers and arches his back, wanting more contact.

“It’s time for you to be naked,” says Billy, now straddling Dom’s legs. He tugs at the cord around Dom’s waist, and it comes open in his hands. The street lamp casts a few gentle beams on Dom’s cock, hard and jerking.

“So pretty,” says Billy. “Elijah’s got a kink for you, you know. Do you want me to go and wake him? I’m sure he’d love to see you like this, with the head of your cock all glossy and exposed. He’d probably let you deep-throat him again.”

And Dom uses what’s left of his linguistic ability to explain that that’s not what he wants at all. That all he wants is Billy. Now. Please.

Billy lets the back of his hand come to rest against the underside of Dom’s thumping cock. Dom knows that he’s using the back of his hand, rather than the palm, as a kindness. When he touches Dom with his palm, in the absence of lube, his skin has a tendency to catch. Nice in a bout of SM, but unnecessary in a round of light, frustrating, balcony foreplay.

“He loves the fact that you’re not cut,” Billy muses. “I mean, he loves that about me, too, but he seems especially fascinated with you, the way your skin slides back when you’re aroused. And it would be so…instructive for him to see you this way.” He strokes Dom with the back of his hand, where his skin is soft and smooth and dry.

“Billy, no. Just fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”

“There are so many other things I could do with you right now,” says Billy. “I could lick your balls for a while. Or I could let you lick mine. I think you prefer it that way.”

Dom absolutely prefers it, loves it when Billy sits on his face and allows him to practically choke on his beautiful, fragrant nutsack. But he shakes his head. “You know what I want.”

“You’re not in a position to make any demands,” purrs Billy. “I can do anything I want with you. I could make you watch while I go down on you. I could make it take hours. I could make you plead for it for all the world to see.”

“Billy, I want you up me. Strip and fuck me, for God’s sake.”

And instead of saying, "Great, let's do this," Billy arches a lazy eyebrow and asks, “In what order?”

Dom has one card left, and he plays it. Without warning, he wraps his muscular legs around Billy’s waist and pulls. Caught off balance, Billy jerks forward and lands on top of Dom.

“Erm,” says Billy, breathing hard. His cheek rests in Dom’s chest hair. “I like that.”

“I know.” Dom tightens his thighs.

“I think I might like it more if I were fucking you.”

“It’s very possible.”

So Dom lets Billy up, and Billy pulls off the grey T-shirt.

“I quite like this shirt,” he says, letting it fall to the balcony floor with some reluctance. “It’s the colour of your eyes.”

“You can wank me off into it some time,” promises Dom, and Billy brightens.

Dom watches as Billy slips the boxers down over his slender, white hips, then steps out of them.

“I never get tired of watching you undress.”

“I never get tired of hearing you say that.” Billy reaches down and plucks the lube from its resting spot against the balcony railings. He kneels between Dom’s thighs and looks him over almost reverently. Then he begins to coat his fingers.

“This will be cold,” Billy warns, rubbing a slippery hand over the head of Dom’s cock, but it’s not cold, only cool, like the time Billy rubbed him down with mint oil and left him tingling in his breeches for days. Billy massages Dom from the tip of his cock to the base and back again, slicking him up. Dom whimpers.

“Is it all right?” Billy asks.

“It’s good. Yeah. Mnnghhh. Get it all over me. I want to slide against your belly while you’re doing me.”

Billy’s well-lubed fingers spread the oil over Dom’s balls, then back to his hole sweetfuckingGod, then forward again.

“You’re the only bloke I’d ever let top me,” Dom manages. “Jesus, Bill. It’s so good with you.”

Billy circles Dom’s entrance with a patient finger, makes him wait for it. “That’s nice to know. I mean, at first, I wasn’t sure. Always in the back of my mind that maybe you were just … you know. Obeying my signals. Obliging the waves.”

“Gahhhh. You know it’s not like that.” Unable to stroke Billy’s cheek, given the state of his arms, Dom rubs the small of his back with his bare heel. Like everything about them, it just fits.

“And how do I know?” Billy trails a finger over Dom’s hole, feels it clench, wanting him.

“Billy. Bill. Bills,” says Dom, as if addressing his lover by all three names will ground him, reel him in, make him understand.

“Shhh. It’s all right. You can tell me later.” And Billy dips into Dom, stretches him, parts him with trembling hands.

And now Dom can feel Billy’s cock resting against his entrance, and his body sings with it, because whenever Billy’s topping him, he turns into fucking Molly Bloom, all open and willing and yes I will Yes. He looks at Billy and nods, and Billy mounts and enters him, and Dom moans in rhythm with Billy’s plunging hips.

“Do you want this, Dommeh?”

“Yes … mnghh … want it. Want you.” They’ve just started, and he’s already making every one of the noises Billy promised he’d make.

“Hush, now, or people will think you’re my boyfriend. Are you my boyfriend, Dominic?”

“Fuck, yes. Yours, Billy. Yours to do with as you...ahhh...please...”

"Are you sure now?" Billy murmurs. "I mean, do I have you? Or am I the only one being had?"

"You fucking have me. Have me, Billy."

“Good,” says Billy, thrusting away as Dom's nerves shimmer and spin. “Because I will never. Let. Another. Man. Fuck. You. Is that clear?”

“Very. Oh, God.” Dom’s legs lock around Billy’s waist, pulling him in.

“You can fuck anyone you choose, but I’m not letting anyone else inside you. You’re too precious to me. This” – and here Billy slams a little harder into Dom’s body – “is my prerogative, and mine only.”

“Fucking yes, already, yes.”

And Dom looks into Billy’s eyes, as the cloudy night sky wheels around them, and then they’re together on that channel that only they can hear.

“Guhhh.” Whatever we originally planned for this weekend, all I want now is to know that you're not going to throw me over for him.

“Mmnnghh.” I know. I see that now.

Billy pants quietly. He’s beautiful and he’s sweet, and I’ve seen how you look at each other. If you’re going to cut me off, you need to do it NOW.

“Oh, baby.” Oh, baby.

Because if you’re just leading me on…

“I’m not,” pants Dom. “I’m not leading you on. I fucking love you. Do you understand that? I love you.” Shit, just because I’m...playful doesn’t mean I’m not capable of love.

“I love you too,” says Billy. Then he lets his hips say what his mouth can’t, and Dom responds in kind.

Oh, God, Bills. Fucking marry me with your hips. That’s right, baby. I want you far enough in me that I’ll feel you for days. Far enough that you’ll never really be out of me, not entirely. Jesus, Billy. When you press against my cock like that with your belly, I can feel the heat unfolding at the root of me. Billy, hold on to me. Billy. Billy. Billyyyyyyyyyyy...

----------------------------------

Elijah wakes and fumbles for his boxers. Unable to find them, he stumbles out of bed and towards the dim light that shines from the sliding door, then stops. Dom and Billy are making love on the balcony.

It’s starting to rain, but they don’t seem to notice. Elijah stands in the shadows and watches the drops roll down Billy’s rising, falling back. He hears Dom sob with pleasure, watches him throw his head back against the pillow, watches him writhe and struggle as the orgasm takes him. Then Billy is fucking his partner gently, like in that Tenacious D song, as the light from a passing car sweeps over his back and makes him glow. And Dom is urging him on with his legs, but not, for some reason, his hands – oh, shit, that’s why – and Billy is clutching Dom the way a drowning man clings to a floating mast. Then Billy arcs his back and spasms, and Dom welcomes him, strokes him, gentles him, until Billy collapses on top of him, murmuring words that only Dom can hear. And what’s remarkable is that, although the headlights have moved on, Billy still glows. They both glow, their bodies covered in tiny prisms from the rain.