Caleidoscope

Note: In a very strange way inspired by the lovely ORC reports. A fic for Sabine. Happy Valentine's Day, sweetie! 🙂


Whenever Dom sees Billy, things just seem to fall into place. It's as if he spends his life looking through a caleidoscope, his world nothing but a swirl of nonsensical forms and crazy colors, changing shape whenever he moves, never giving him something to hold onto - until Billy comes into view, and suddenly everything makes sense.

Maybe that's why Dom hasn't been able to let go.

A part of him, deep down, is afraid that without Billy, his life would never make sense again, that things would never feel as right as they do when they're together. In the last year, since Lord of the Rings ended, Dom has learned to cope with the absences, the months with nothing but half-hour phone calls (weekly) and three-sentence emails (daily) to fill the gap in Dom's life. He works, he gives interviews, he surfs, he has fun, he makes new friends, he even dates. And sometimes he even falls in love, gets lost in the eyes of a beautiful woman (never a man) and believes, for a week or two, that maybe he has done it, has let go of this infatuation, this dependency.

But he always wakes up, usually when he hears Billy laughing over some story Dom just told him on the phone, and the sound buries into his skin, warms places that he hadn't noticed were cold and dead. He never says anything, just sighs softly and relaxes in acceptance of what is obviously his fate.

It's not a bad life, as lives go, it doesn't make Dom miserable or lonely (anymore) – and it rewards him with the intense joy he feels whenever he's in the same room with Billy, the knowledge that time and space don't make a jot of a difference. It starts before that, actually – Dom feels himself stand taller, his smiles become bigger, his voice sound more alive, hours before he sees Billy. He catches himself say Billy's name, taste it on his tongue, feel it slide down his throat like silk, and suspects that he sounds like a schoolgirl with a crush but can't bring himself to care.
And then he's there, in the VIP area of an airport or backstage at an event, and Dom's breath catches, because he's forgotten just how green his eyes are, how his smile crinkles his whole face. Their embrace is less a hug and more a falling together, bodies fitting together, arms holding tight. They stand there, breathing each other in, lost for just a moment. And it's in this moment that Dom thinks that maybe, just maybe, things fall into place for Billy, too.

It's nothing they talk about. They just share a smile and separate, putting on the familiar skin of the Dom & Billy-Show as if they have never shed it. It's strange in a way, but Dom never feels quite as much like himself as when he stands next to Billy. Laughing never feels quite as refreshing as when it's shared with Billy. Being drunk never feels quite as exhilarating as when Billy is pouring the drinks. Sleeping is never quite as refreshing as when Billy is passed out on his hotel bed next to him. And waking is never quite as easy as when it's to kisses from Billy's soft lips.

This part doesn't happen every time, and Dom never seeks it out. When it happens, Dom welcomes it, drinks it up, hardly recognizing himself when he moans, writhes, gives himself and his body completely to Billy's kisses, Billy's hands, Billy's body against his. It's the feeling Dom can't let go of, when Billy is filling him, their eyes locked, both of them whispering things the other one isn't supposed to hear. It's memories of New Zealand, when this was the way they spent most their nights (and some of their days), when Dom's world made sense in a way it had never made sense before.

Afterwards, when reality intrudes, a pale parody of what the word means to Dom, they smile, the smile they shared the day they left New Zealand, and Billy pulls Dom into a hug so tight Dom would complain if he wasn't busy reciprocating in kind, before they leave their sanctuary and face the outside world. The Dom & Billy-Show, until their time is up and they return to their separate lives, separate friends, separate loves, connected only by half-hour phone calls (weekly) and three-sentence emails (daily) crossing the miles between them.

The world shatters into a million pieces and starts its confusing dance of forms and colors again. But Dom doesn't let go, doesn't get dizzy, because he knows that Billy is there, somewhere, looking through a caleidoscope of his own. And when Dom and Billy catch sight of each other, everything falls into place.

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