Four AM

Note: Written for the drunk or tired challenge at - my first contribution. Started 1.46pm and ended 2.18pm.

Dom was tired. More than tired, actually, what he felt was that he was bordering on being a walking dead. He'd probably feel more live if he was dead, come to think of it. Dead was very appealing right now, or so Dom thought.

Reflecting on it, something seemed a bit off with that argument, but Dom couldn't quite figure out what.

All he was sure of was that he was more tired than he'd ever been before, including the celebration after he finished school, which had involved him not going to bed for about 70 hours. At least he'd had fun, then.

Now he didn't have fun, on the contrary, and he would have liked to strangle Peter for submitting them to yet another night shoot. Why couldn't they just shoot it in a studio, at a decent time of day? But no, it had to be outside, at four fricking AM, on a non-too-warm New Zealand night.

Dom was having a hard time standing upright and not stumbling over his stupid feet, and he'd been ruining most of his scenes, which of course prolonged the ordeal. At least he was not the only one messing up, Dom thought with relief, looking over at his fellow hobbit.

Billy looked just as tired as Dom felt, a fact that gave him some satisfaction, even if it didn't really help. It had been Billy's fault in the first place, anyway, that Dom was practically sleeping with his eyes open, so it seemed only fair that they shared this miserableness. (Was that even a word? Dom wasn't sure anymore about anything, and definitely not about the finer points of the English language.)

Why did Billy have to drag him out the day before, claiming to have found the best pub in all of New Zealand? Of course, Dom could have said no, since he'd known that they would have to get up at 4.30 to get their feet fitted -- but when had Dom ever been able to say no to any of Billy's ideas?

Damn this annoying green-eyed fool of a Scot with his puppy eyes and mischievous grin, it was all his fault for being irresistible!

Dom wondered for a moment when good old Billy had been stuck with so many descriptive adjectives, not least of which was 'irresistible', but decided that it was way too late -- or too early -- to follow such dangerous lines of thoughts.

So yeah, it had all been Billy's fault, for keeping him up drinking and laughing in the admittedly great pub until there had been no time to go to sleep and they had stumbled onto the set to the outraged shrieks of the make-up girls. And it had been Billy's fault, too, that they didn't go to sleep after the shoot to catch at least a couple of hours sleep.

After all, it was Billy who looked so cute when he was watching a good movie, his face mirroring all the emotions flitting through his head and chuckles or sounds of surprise and anger escaping him. How could Dom have closed his eyes and slept through the movie, with such a distraction?

Oh, umm -- now Billy was cute? Another description Dom filed away to figure out at a later point -- preferably after about twenty-four hours of undisturbed sleep.

He glanced over at Billy, who was watching the stuntmen doing some dangerous looking stuff with an expression of complete blankness, his green eyes somewhere far away. Dom wondered what he was seeing and was about to ask, when they were called back to the scene.

A bit later, after Dom had somehow managed not to miss his cue and do what Peter wanted him to, they stumbled towards the make-up trailer. Heavenly images of feather pillows and down covers were floating before Dom's eyes, so that he almost fell as Billy grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a tree.

"What?!" Dom blinked, slowly focusing on Pippin's familiar face, only inches from his own Merry-face.

Only it was not Pippin, but Billy, who leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Dom's lips.

"You're cute when you're tired," the Scottish brogue Dom sometimes heard in his dreams whispered.

Then Billy was gone, leaving a stunned Dom behind. Had he just had a hallucination, induced by lack of sleep? He pinched himself hard, wincing when it hurt. Obviously not.

But then... That meant...

Once more almost falling over his feet, Dom started running towards the trailer. Suddenly he didn't feel quite as tired anymore.