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Dec. 31st, 2008

Title: You're A Map Of A Place Maybe Someday I'll Go Ch. 4/22
Author: Pip
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: this chapter R, NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, never met 'em, this is all lies.
Feedback: Would be treasured beyond pearls.
Archive: Not without permission.

A/N: Thanks to fitofpique and elmathelas for the brilliant betas, and thanks to buckle_berry for the ongoing Britpick. This fic would not be the same without you three, and I thank you from the bottom of my squishy little heart.

Chapter 1, 2, 3

First posted June, 2006



For the next hour they sat on the sofa watching TV, Dom thinking too hard to talk and Billy too drunk to notice his silence.

"Dom?" he said suddenly, listing to the side to lean his head on Dom's shoulder again.

"Yeah?"

"'M sorry I got stocious. You know, on your first night here, and all. Not much of a best mate, am I?"

"It's all right, Bills." Dom lifted his arm to drop it over Billy's shoulders, and suddenly had a lap full of said best mate. "Ehm ... Billy--"

"No, 'cos, like, I'm really sorry," he said earnestly, looking up at Dom's chin from where he'd fallen across his lap. "An' I'm sorry I didn't pick you up at the airport. An' I'm sorry I didn't have any food for you. I wanted you to come and stay with me and I wanted you to make me feel better and I wanted you to have a really good time so you'd never want to leave, an' I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go home tomorrow, an'--"

Dom put a hand over his mouth. "Stop. I don't want to leave tomorrow, Bills, I'm here for a while, all right? Now stop apologising. You sent a car for me, we got food tonight, and I'll do what I can to make you feel better. I just want to spend a bit of time with my best mate."

"Okay. Okay, Dom." He suddenly closed his eyes and turned to bury his face in Dom's stomach.

Dom froze, praying Billy didn't move his arm about four inches to the right. "Ehm--why don't you sit up, Bill?" he said, a shade desperately.

"'Cos I'm tired," he mumbled, his voice muffled further by Dom's jumper.

"Then why don't you go to bed?"

"'Cos it's nice here with you."

"I'll still be here tomorrow. Go to bed, Billy."

"No. Want to talk to you," he said stubbornly, shifting to the right.

Dom quickly pushed him off. "Tell you what, you go to bed and I'll come in and talk to you until you pass--I mean, fall asleep. Okay?"

Billy considered it. "Okay," he said agreeably. He staggered to his feet. "'M gonna go piss first."

"Good idea. I'll be along in a few minutes. Make sure you change." With a vague sense of relief, Dom watched him lurch his way down the hall. He wondered what the hell was going on--he was afraid he didn't know and petrified he maybe did. And it was going to be days, probably, before he could work out which it was. At that thought he practically sprang to his feet and began tidying up the living room, killing time and trying to tire anxiety.




Dom pushed the door open a little wider. "Bills?" he whispered. The bedside lamp was on, but Billy lay facing the wall. There was no answer, so he turned to go, only to be stopped by a slurred voice.

"C'mere. Dom, c'mere."

Dom walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed Billy's shoulder. "How are you doing?"

"'M fucked. 'M bloody well fucked," he mumbled, then gingerly rolled over. He kept his eyes closed, although he frowned. "Don't--don't ... "

"Don't what, Bills?" Dom asked softly.

"Don't shout at me in th' morning. For gettin' buckled."

"All right. I won't."

"Promise," he insisted, his frown deepening.

"I promise," Dom soothed, brushing the hair off his forehead. "I'm going to go and get you a glass of water. You'd better have some before you sleep."

"Don't go."

"I'll be right back." Dom got up, went to the kitchen and poured water into the tallest glass he could find. He half expected to find Billy unconscious when he returned, but that wasn't the case.

"Dom. Dom," Billy was muttering, eyes still closed. "Dom. Get back here, you wee bastard. Where the fuck did you go?"

"I'm right here, Billy," Dom said, fondly exasperated. "I told you I was going to get you some water." He sat on the edge of the bed again. "Sit up and drink this."

"No. Don't wanna."

"Stop your whinging and sit up."

"Whinging? I'm not fuckin' whinging." His eyes opened the merest slit, and he hauled himself upright. "Oh God ... "

Dom looked at him sideways. "Should I get you a basin?"

Billy shook his head. "No. 'M fine. I'm--well, not fine. 'M fucked. I've left drunk so far behind I can't remember what it looks like. But I'm not gonna ... " He made a little noise, swallowed. "You know."

"Drink the water, Bill," Dom said softly, not quite believing him.

He drank. It took him a while, but he managed to finish the glass. "Thanks. That's good. I'm good," he mumbled, easing himself back down. "Talk to me, Dom. You were gonna talk to me."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Tell me. Tell me about your trip. Tell me about coming here. I didn't ask how--how your flight was. Tell me 'bout your flight." His arm flopped bonelessly around until his hand found Dom, then clutched the waist of his jeans with surprising strength.

"All right. You just relax. Well, I was already a bit tired when I got to the airport, the party went late the night before. So to keep myself amused, I did a bit of shopping. I bought you some prezzies, Bill, and I just know you're going to love them," he smiled.

"You did? You bought me prezzies? Oh--I didn't get you anything ... " Billy moaned miserably. "God, 'm the worst best mate ever--"

"Shut up, Bills," Dom chuckled. "Besides, you might change your mind when you see what they are."

"What is it? What'd you get me?" he asked, his hand tugging at Dom's waistband.

"I--ehm--stop pulling, Bill--you'll just have to wait and see. I'll give them to you tomorrow."

"Oh. Okay." His forehead wrinkled. "Don't s'pose I deserve prezzies tonight anyway."

"It's not that you don't deserve them, wanker. You wouldn't even know what you were looking at in this state."

"Guess so. So you bought me prezzies."

"After I bought your prezzies, we boarded, and it was a nice short trip to L.A. When I got off in L.A., I called Elijah and talked to him for a while. If I'd been there longer he would have met me for a coffee, but I was only there for two hours. Barely enough time to go out and go straight back in through security." Dom gently rubbed his hand up and down Billy's arm. "He says hi, and to tell you he misses you."

"Miss him too. Little Elwood," Billy mumbled into his pillow. "I miss Elwood too."

"I know. And that's what I told him. So then I got back on the plane, and we flew up to Chicago. I had three hours to spare in Chicago, so I did a little more shopping."

"More prezzies for me?" Billy asked, sounding an odd mixture of hopeful and guilty. "Not for me."

"Some were for you," Dom smiled. "And some were for me. I bought myself a book to read on the plane, and I bought a t-shirt."

"What's it say?" Even in a near-stupor, Billy knew Dom would never buy a plain t-shirt.

"I'll show you tomorrow. So I wandered and shopped for three hours, and I was really starting to get knackered by this point, Bills, I mean, I could have fallen asleep on the bloody floor if I'd let myself, but I kept going so that I would sleep on the plane, because you know what I'm like."

"Sodding pathetic flyer, you are." There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah. And you're both Wright brothers wrapped up into one paragon of flight."

"'S true."

"May I continue?" Dom asked, his tone overly polite.

"Go 'head."

"Thank you. So I boarded again, finally, and as soon as we were at altitude, I put my earphones in and tried to go to sleep. Nothin' doin'. So when they brought the first meal--"

"What was it?"

Dom raised his eyebrow. "You sure you want to hear about food right now, Bills?"

He swallowed again. "Good point. G'on."

"Yeah. Anyway, I ate, and then I thought I'd definitely be ready to sleep, what with my nice full tum and all. Nope. Not a wink. I started to get kind of wound up about it, really."

"My poor Dom."

"Such sincerity," Dom teased gently.

"No, no. Mean it. Sucks when y' can't sleep. Flight goes on for fuckin' ever." His voice was losing coherency.

"You're telling me. So I pulled out my new book to read. That only lasted thirty pages."

"Why? Bad?"

"Ehm--no. Wasn't that."

"Then what?" Billy actually cracked one eye open to look up at him, but quickly closed it again.

"Well, if you must know," Dom coloured a little, "It was a little erotic. And I was getting a bit--uncomfortable."

A lopsided smile pulled at Billy's lips. "Dom'nic got a stiffy. Did you go to th' toilet and wank?"

"No, I did not!" he exclaimed, then relaxed. "It was tempting, though. So I put the tray down and wrote on my hands for a while."

"Dom?"

"Yeah, Bills?"

His voice sounded a bit odd. "Wasn't my name on your hands?"

"Sure. Because I was thinking about you."

His wrinkled his forehead in alarm. "While you were thinkin' 'bout wanking?"

"No, no, Billy," Dom said, discomfited. "I was thinking about other stuff to take my mind off it. Hawaii, the trip, you, our roadtrip, I even wrote vodka on there somewhere."

"Oh."

Was it Dom's imagination, or did Billy sound slightly disappointed? No, definitely his imagination. "So--" he cleared his throat and started again. "So I watched the film, ate the second meal, and we arrived in Glasgow. A bit of a rough landing, but nothing we've never been through before. Had to wait what felt like ages at the concierge desk, but at least the driver was great. Hit traffic, too, which didn't help my mood, really, and I was going to tear you a new one, until I got here and got a good look at you." Dom realised he was rambling, and rather lamely finished with, "And that was it, really. Here I am."

"'M sorry. Sorry it was ... shite trip. Wish I had ... private jet. For you," he said, mumbling again. "With a bed. An' pillows. An' sexy attendants. An' no one else on it, with their fucking lights an' stupid talking an' coughing an' walkin' around. So you wouldn't hate comin' to see me."

"I don't hate coming to see you, Bills. I don't enjoy the trip, but it's worth it, if I get to see you, spend some time with you."

"You're just sayin' that 'cos I'm fucked," he muttered, turning his face further into his pillow. "Just bein' nice."

"When have I ever said things to you 'just to be nice'?" Dom softly chided. "If I don't mean something, I don't say it, you know that."

"Say something y' mean." His hand tightened on Dom's waistband again, pulling at it.

"Something I mean? All right. I mean it when I say I want you to go to sleep now. I mean it when I say I won't give you a bollocking tomorrow for what you've done to yourself tonight. I mean it when I say I'm glad I'm here. Okay, Bills?"

"Okay, Dom," he whispered. "Stay. Just a few more minutes."

"All right. But go to sleep." They both fell silent, then, and Dom lightly feathered his hand across Billy's hair, over and over, until he was sure sleep had finally claimed him. He carefully untangled Billy's hand from the waist of his jeans, relieved when he didn't move so much as a muscle. Whispering, "Sleep well, Bills," Dom turned out the light and left, making sure to leave the door cracked open just a bit in case Billy needed to get up in the middle of the night.





Much to Dom's sympathy, Billy did indeed have to get up during the night. Loud, hurried footsteps past the guest bedroom partially woke Dom, and the even louder noises of someone being violently sick into the toilet brought him fully awake. "Ah, fuck," he whispered, trying to decide what to do. Billy didn't like anyone in the same room with him while he was puking, but he really should be checked on ...

Dom climbed out of bed and pulled on the long flannel trousers and t-shirt he'd left by the bed for exactly this eventuality, and quietly walked out into the hallway. He waited by the bathroom door, his own stomach rolling a bit at the sound of Billy throwing up over and over, wishing he could offer some comfort but knowing Billy would never forgive him for walking in now. When the retching noises finally stopped a few minutes later, he gripped the doorjamb, nervous at the complete silence that fell over the flat. He pressed his ear to the door, but heard nothing--not even a breath. He spoke anxiously. "Billy?"

From behind the door came faint sounds of movement, then an indistinct mumbling that Dom took to mean 'come in'. He eased the door open to peer around it, and when Billy didn't immediately object, he stepped inside the bathroom.

Billy was slumped on the floor, pale, clammy and shivering. Dom wordlessly walked over and sat on the edge of the tub, gently pulling Billy back to lean against his warm legs, before reaching out and flushing the toilet. He looked around but there was no towel to hand--he should have grabbed one before he sat down. Damn. Oh well--Dom dried the cold sweat off Billy's face with his hand, drying his hand in turn on his t-shirt.  Billy was shaking, but Dom assumed the fact that he was still sitting on the floor and not trying to get back to bed meant that he wasn't sure he was finished yet, so Dom simply sat with him. He wiped Billy's forehead every once in a while, brushed his damp hair off his forehead, rubbed his shoulders soothingly, and let go completely when Billy suddenly rose to his knees and leaned over the toilet again. His back arched up, and once again he was being noisily sick once, twice, three times, until finally nothing was coming up, and the painful dry heaves abated.

Billy immediately staggered to his feet and stumbled over to the sink. Dom flushed the toilet again, then stood to the side and waited. Billy rinsed his mouth a few times, brushed his teeth, and drank several glasses of water; when he finally straightened, he looked like his knees were barely holding him up. Dom ushered him out, hands hovering by his arms just in case, and walked him back to his bedroom.

"Dom," Billy said miserably as he crawled into his bed. "'M sorry, Dom--"

"Shh. It's all right. Don't worry about it. Just try and go back to sleep," Dom said softly.

"'M so fuckin' cold." His teeth chattered as if to prove him correct.

"Do you have any more blankets anywhere?"

"Wardrobe. Top shelf."

Dom fetched a spare blanket from the wardrobe and spread it over Billy, then ran a gentle hand over his head. "Go to sleep, Bills. Sleep as long as you can tomorrow." He left, leaving the door open again.

Back in the guest bedroom, Dom climbed in between the sheets. Poor Billy was going to be suffering something fierce in the morning. Coffee, paracetamol, and an icepack were going to be the order of the day, that was for sure. Dom yawned, and quickly fell back to sleep.




Sometime later--Dom hoped not too long, he didn't like the idea of Billy suffering--the bed dipped beside him as Billy crawled in next to him and curled up, not quite touching him. Dom could feel the bed tremble with Billy's shudders. "Still cold?" he murmured.

"Can't--can't get warm," he muttered, and even his voice sounded shivery.

"Come here, then. Let me help." Dom lifted the blankets a bit, held up his arm to make room for Billy to shift over and huddle against his side. He was glad he'd kept the t-shirt and flannels on--not only would it be less awkward for Billy, but it might feel warmer, too.

But Billy couldn't get comfortable and still have enough direct contact to warm him up. He ended up rolling over and pressing his back against Dom's side, curling the rest of his body in on himself. "Just--just need to--get a bit warmer," he forced out through clenched teeth. "Then I'll g-go."

"Stay," Dom said quietly. "I don't mind." He rolled too, spooning behind Billy, his chest pressed against Billy's back, his knees tucked up against the back of Billy's thighs, their feet tangling together. He put his arm over top of Billy, holding him tightly as he continued to shake. "You've never let me look after you before. Are you always like this when you've been sick?" he asked softly, his mouth near Billy's ear.

Billy shuddered. "Yeah. Get really--really cold. Just need t-to warm up a bit. Th-then I'll be okay."

Dom smiled. "Well, until morning, at least."

He gave a shaky chuckle. "Yeah. My head already hurts."

Dom lifted his head off the pillow. "Do you want some paracetamol? I could go and get it--"

"No. No. Don't go anywhere," he said quickly.

"Okay." Dom spread a warm palm across Billy's chest. "Where do you keep it? I'll have it on hand in the morning."

"Med-medicine cabinet in the--the bathroom."

"Okay."

"Sorry I w-woke you," Billy whispered.

"It's all right. I've nowhere to be in the morning," Dom smiled. "And I'll be asleep again very soon anyway. You're shaking a bit less--are you starting to feel warmer?"

"A--a bit. You throw off a pr-pretty good heat," he said, tucking his head down against his shoulder.

"I'm very hot-blooded, don't you know."

"Lucky for me," he murmured, and then was quiet.

Within fifteen minutes, they were both asleep.




Dom woke late the next morning and crawled out of bed, taking care not to wake Billy, who barely moved from his sprawled-out position even as Dom slid out from underneath him. Which was a relief, because Dom would be embarrassed beyond measure if Billy had seen the morning erection he was sporting right now. His hard-ons weren't usually quite this impressive first thing but, then again, he didn't usually wake up covered by Billy from chest to toes, either.

Billy had just been drunk, Dom told himself for the tenth time already that morning. His pint-sized longing was spilling over far too rapidly for comfort.

Dom headed for the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. He went in search of the paracetamol, found it right where Billy had said, and returned to place it in the centre of the kitchen table. He poured a glass of water and left it sitting beside the small bottle, and then shut himself in the bathroom for a nice hot shower.

As he washed his hair--using Billy's shampoo, because Billy's shampoo smelled like Billy's hair--Dom wondered what kind of shape Billy would be in when he woke up. Probably rather rough. So Dom had better just keep his pants on, so to speak, and not push him to talk about anything at all today. Just a quiet day in, a bit of coffee, a bit of food, maybe a little quiet TV, probably a post-teatime nap, and nothing the least bit stressful. It sounded nice.

It sounded frustrating as hell.

Because really, he needed to know--well, okay, maybe not needed. But it would really help to know the story of how and why Billy and Ali had broken up in all its gory detail, so that Dom could stop reading meaning into every odd word or look, meaning pulled straight out of his own previously well-controlled desires and not out of any actual inference of Billy's. Because Dom really needed to let some of his longing drain off so he could (mostly) comfortably contain it in that pint-sized compartment he had grown used to. Billy didn't return Dom's long-standing feelings, as was rather obvious when one looked at the fact that he had a girlfriend. Or, had one until recently, anyway. So Dom should just stop watching for any lingering glances, or double-entendres, or not-so-casual touches--fuck.

Annoyed with himself, fully erect again at the thought of Billy purposely touching him, Dom quickly soaped up his hand and roughly jerked himself off, the name Billy falling in a whisper with the water as he came.


Chapter 5