***

"I'm not dressing up like a sheep," Dom said.

"Who asked you to?" Elijah asked.

"No one. But still, I'm not doing it."

"Whatever, dude," Elijah replied, already losing interest in the conversation.

"And I'm not wearing a skirt."

"That's the spirit," Elijah muttered, his attention all on his Game Boy.

"And I'm not touching scotch."

"Fuck no; that stuff tastes like ass." Elijah's voice did that funny thing where it sounded like he was deliberately pushing it up into the higher registers.

"And I'll kill myself before I eat haggis."

"Dom," Elijah said with a sigh as he let the Game Boy fall to one side. "What the hell are you going on about?"

"Nothing," Dom said tiredly.

"Well your nothing just cost me a high score," Elijah said with disgust as he reached for his pack of cigarettes. "Lighter?"

A few moments spent digging around on the cluttered coffee table turned up the lighter, and Dom tossed it to Elijah. "Those things are foul," he complained as Elijah lit up.

"Dom, it's my apartment," Elijah said, after a long drag. "Who turned you into Astin?"

"I don't care about you smoking," Dom said irritably, "I care about you smoking stuff that reeks."

"Dom," Elijah said, fixing Dom with a serious look, "what the hell has you so fucking twitchy, man?"

"You're not paying any attention to me," Dom said, trying to look hurt. "Billy and I had a bit of a quarrel."

"And you think that by being excessively Scottish you can make it up to him," Elijah said, rolling his eyes, something that, from Elijah, was a particularly effective way of expressing scorn. "See, I was paying attention, you cunt."

"Don't try swearing like one of us," Dom said almost automatically. "You're crap at it."

"Just like you're crap at staying on the subject," Elijah said. "You know, in my admittedly limited experience, apologizing for whatever it was that got you fighting in the first place is the best way to deal with it."

"It was his fault," Dom protested, even though he knew damn well it wasn't.

"Sure it was," Elijah replied, picking up his Game Boy again. "You keep telling yourself that."

Picking up the remote, Dom turned on the TV, flipping through the channels in a desultory fashion until he found a footie match. Settling down, he watched it intently, and Elijah -- who could take a hint rather well when he felt like it -- didn't bring up Billy for the rest of the evening.

* * *

By the time Dom had a chance to talk to Billy, they were alone in Feet the next evening. Alone in Feet was a relative term, of course; in this case it meant that both Sean and Elijah had already finished, leaving the other two Hobbits with only the make up people for company.

"So what's this I hear about you dressing up like a sheep?" Billy asked, leaning back in his chair and drinking his tea.

"Lij is a wanker," Dom said, frowning. This, he decided, was a conversation he didn't want to have in front of anyone, even the feet people, who tended to be a pretty discreet lot. "Did he tell you about the part where he said scotch tastes like ass?"

"He's too young to appreciate scotch," Billy replied, making a dismissive gesture. "And anyway, he probably hasn't had any of the good stuff."

"There is such a thing?" Dom teased, glad that Billy was in such a good mood.

"Come by my place and if you're a very good little Hobbit, I'll give you some."

"Hey," Dom said, smiling. "I'm no 'little' Hobbit; I'm the tall one."

* * *

"I'm sorry," Dom said the moment Billy let them into his flat. "I just ... he's so fucking good looking."

"Yeah, well, he's also a good friend," Billy said, moving to the kitchen, where he pulled out a bottle and a couple of squat, heavy glasses. "He's pining after a guy for the first time in his life, and he thinks the guy is straight, and he's all confused."

"Oh," Dom said, feeling even more like an idiot. "I'm sorry," he repeated. Really, how stupid could he have been to think that Orli was hitting on Billy, or, even more unbelievable, that Billy had been encouraging him? Now that Dom could think without jealousy clouding his mind, he remembered that Orli looked rather miserable in Billy's arms, and that alone should have been proof that nothing was going on. Dom couldn't imagine looking himself miserable in Billy's arms no matter what the circumstances.

"I dunno," Billy said, pouring the scotch and handing the glass to Dom. "I dunno if you've groveled enough."

"I can apologize to Orlando, too," Dom said, looking at the scotch dubiously. "If that'll help." For a moment he wondered who Orli was pining after -- Bean probably -- but figuring that out wasn't as important as clearing things up with Billy.

"Oh, I was thinking more along the lines of you reciting some Burns," Billy said with a sly little grin. "Or maybe wearing a kilt or doing a Highland fling."

"I'm gonna kill that fucking Lij," Dom said. "He didn't even act like he was paying any attention to me."

"Maybe you could learn to play the bagpipes," Billy said, holding back a snicker as Dom made a face over his glass. "Honestly, Dom, why'd you think you had to go all Scots on me?"

"Thought it'd be ... I dunno, endearing or somesuch." It sounded even more stupid now, and Dom took another drink of the scotch. It still burned, but Dom decided it tasted a little better now than it had the first time. Kind of like getting fucked, he thought, hoping he'd feel that particular burn before the night was out.

"You daft git," Billy said affectionately. "If you were any more endearing, you'd be fuckin' illegal." Moving to Dom's side, he pulled the glass out of Dom's hand and gave Dom a quick hard kiss. "C'mon, idiot."

Dom allowed Billy to lead him to the bedroom before he pulled Billy into his arms for a moment. "Why do you put up with me?" he asked.

"I have no earthly idea," Billy replied, reaching for the bottom of Dom's t-shirt. As he pulled it over Dom's head, he continued. "You're a complete wanker, you’re a short arse...."

"Hey!" Dom protested, reaching for waistband of Billy's jeans. "I'm the tall one."

"Your sense of proportion is all off," Billy continued, trying to look relaxed as Dom took far longer than necessary to get Billy's jeans undone. "You're slow as fuck getting a bloke undressed, and ... oh, fuck!" He looked down as Dom thumped to his knees on the floor.

It's wasn't really possible to snicker with his mouth full, so Dom just looked up at Billy and winked as he worked his mouth slowly down over Billy's cock. "I put up with you," Billy said, swallowing hard as he looked down at Dom, "because you could ... God ... suck a golf ball ... damnit, Dom...."

Recognizing the desperation in Billy's voice, Dom took pity on him and began to suck hard as he took Billy's cock all the way into his mouth. After several months of practice, Dom knew every last little thing that would turn Billy inside out and he used them all, his eyes never leaving Billy's face. He'd learned to love the changes that came over Billy's face, how he tried to look like everything was cool and then, slowly, he'd get lost in what Dom was doing until.... Yes, there; Billy's teeth caught his lower lip in the signal Dom had learned to pay attention to. Taking Billy's cock all the way in, he swallowed hard around it and felt Billy's hands go tight on his shoulders as Billy came.

Later, after Billy had returned the favor in a way that had Dom thrashing on the bed, Dom apologized one more time.

"Enough," Billy said. "If you really insist on making it up to me, I know you'll find a way. Now let me sleep, we have Feet at 4:30."

As Billy drifted off to sleep, he could have sworn he heard faint bleating from the other side of the bed.

end

Slashababy 2004 Stories