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Title: You're A Map Of A Place Maybe Someday I'll Go Ch. 17/22
Author: Pip
Pairing: Billy/Dom
Rating: this chapter PG-13
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 to buckle_berry for the fabulous 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, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

First posted July, 2006



Dom was in heaven. For three days--three entire days--he and Billy had done nothing but eat, sleep, and explore each other's bodies. Backrubs, foot massages, much touching in general in front of the TV as they watched movies and The Simpsons; soapy, slick, and quick handjobs in the shower; leisurely, languid kissing and fondling and coming in the bed. Takeaway and toast and Dom's homemade spaghetti sauce fed their stomachs, and Dom felt as if those three days were nourishing his entire being, were feeding something beyond his physical self. He gladly cast away not only the fragments of his pint jar, but of the gallon jar that had replaced it--there was no longer a need for either, as he was full to the brim, overflowing, even. He felt ...

Complete.

"Billy," he whispered at one point as they lazed in bed late into the morning.

"Mmm?" Billy's fingers trailed across Dom's bare back.

"I love your knees."

A chuckle rumbled in Billy's chest. "You do, hmm?"

"Yeah. They're very sexy, and they never get in the way," Dom said, knowing Billy wouldn't understand what he meant, but that it didn't matter.

He was astonished when Billy tilted his head, lightly bit Dom's neck, and murmured, "We do fit just right, don't we?"

"We do," he whispered, feeling a surge of immense gratitude.




Dom woke with a start, his head pounding and his mouth dry. He had a nagging feeling of unease, but nothing in the room, or even the flat, seemed to have caused it--everything was still and silent except for Billy's gently whistling breath beside him. He laid his head down again, trying to remember what he'd been dreaming.

Billy had been missing. That's what it was. Dom frowned, knowing what it meant, knowing what had been prowling in the very back of his mind for the last day or two.

Billy rolled in his sleep and flung his arm low over Dom's abdomen, chin digging into the top of his shoulder.

Looking at Billy, Dom allowed himself for the first time to wonder what would happen next. Sure, they'd finally--finally--admitted their love and agreed to a relationship, but ... 

Hawaii is a long way from Scotland, Jeremy Irons suddenly pointed out with malicious enthusiasm. Thousands of miles and separate continents and twenty hours and--

Shut up, Dom thought fiercely. I've looked at a bloody map, y'know, I know how fucking far apart they are. We'll--we'll work it out.

Oh really? The supercilious eyebrow (that wasn't really an eyebrow because it was all in his head, and perhaps it was time to seek help for this) rose, and Jeremy Irons asked how, exactly? You know he won't move.

I know that! Dom clenched his eyes shut tightly. I wouldn't ask him to move. His heart and soul are in Glasgow.

God knows why, Jeremy Irons sniffed.

Dom opened his eyes again. Maybe that was it--maybe if he knew exactly how and why Billy was so attached to the place, he could start to figure out how they would work around it. Ignoring the snort from the side of his brain that could win an Oscar for that Jeremy Irons impersonation, Dom rolled both himself and Billy over until Billy was lying on his back, Dom atop him.

Billy mumbled groggily. "Wha'. Getoff. Wha'time'sit?"

"Don't know," Dom murmured. "Early. Shh, go back to sleep."

"Can't, wi' your dirty great weight. On me. Sleep, Dom."

"Put your arms around me, Bills," he whispered. "Please."

One eye opened. "Wha'?"

"Just put your arms around me, and go back to sleep."

Billy enfolded Dom with both arms with surprising strength, pulling him down flush against his chest. He made little nuzzling noises, burying his nose in Dom's hair. "What's wrong, taisgeal?"

Dom pressed his forehead against Billy's collarbone. "Nothing. I just want ...  Just want to know you're holding onto me."

"What, did you turn into a girl overnight?" Billy teased softly, then before Dom could retort, wrapped one of his legs over Dom's. "I'm holding onto you. I just found this, Dom, I'm not letting it go."

"No, I know. It's not that. Well," he amended honestly, "Maybe it is a bit. But it's also ...  I don't know how to explain it. I just want to feel that right now--just for a little while--I couldn't move if I tried. Keep me here, Bills. I know it's mad, but--"

"No. No, it's not mad, Dom. Don't care if the flat sets on fire, 'm not budging one inch, and neither are you. Now what set this off, taisgeal?"

Dom turned his head to a more comfortable position. "Later. Go back to sleep, Bills. This is good."

Billy kissed the top of his head. "Okay. Later."

A few quiet moments later, Dom whispered, "Bills?"

"Yeah?" The word was breathed more than spoken.

"Will you take me for a tour today? I want to see what made you you."

"Okay."

Within minutes, both had sunk back into sleep, wrapped up tightly in each other.




Later that morning, Dom had a few moments of difficulty persuading Billy the entire conversation had even taken place. "You said you'd take me for a tour," he insisted doggedly.

"Of what made me me?" Billy raised his eyebrow. "I don't even know what that means."

Dom rounded the kitchen table to straddle Billy's lap. He looked directly down into the eyes he adored, and lovingly whispered, "Bullshit."

Billy snorted, sardonically said, "What, you want to see where I was born? See the spot wee Billy fell down and skinned his knee? See the football pitch where I lost my virginity behind the clubhouse?"

"Yes. Yes. And yes," Dom replied, punctuating each word with a kiss to the tip of Billy's nose.

Billy frowned, looking slightly troubled. "Why, Dom?"

He sighed, got up, and began to pace the kitchen. "Because, I--I want ...  I need to understand how. Understand why. You're so tied to this city, to this country, and I know you love it, but there must be more to it than that. You loved New Zealand, too, but you don't have to ...  I need to try and understand what it is that keeps your heart here."

"For ... for later," Billy said quietly, eyes dropping.

Dom nodded. "I'm not asking you to move, Billy, and I never would. I just ... need to understand. I don't want to be confused and surprised and--and hurt if you won't come and visit me."

"I'll visit," Billy protested. "I did before, why wouldn't I now?"

"I don't mean just for a week or two, Bill. I mean for a month or two, or three. Not permanent--hell, we both know I won't be living in Hawaii forever." Dom shrugged. "But if I said right now, 'come and stay with me for the next three months, Bills', what would you say?"

Billy opened his mouth, and closed it again.

Dom felt it like a twist in his gut. "You see? You can't even say it just for the sake of saying it. And if I'm not going to feel like I've been kicked every time, I need to understand why."

Looking stricken, Billy stood and crossed to Dom, then wrapped his arms around Dom's neck and pulled him in tight. "I'm sorry," he whispered, nose against his own arm. "What if I can't explain it?"

"Will you even try?" Dom asked stiffly.

"Yes. Yes, of course I'll try, Dom, as best I can."

Dom buried his face against Billy's neck. "Okay."

"Okay," Billy repeated on a whisper.

Dom hugged him tightly until, a few minutes later, Billy pulled away. "All right, Bills?"

He nodded, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah. Can I--will you give me a few minutes? I have to figure out where to take you."

"Of course," Dom said softly, following him to the doorway to the living room to watch him cross to stand in front of the window, looking out. Dom silently retreated back into the kitchen.




"You do know that this might ... might not be easy for me?" Billy asked awkwardly as he signaled and pulled onto the motorway.

"I know, and I'm sorry for that."

"Just so you know."

Dom looked over at him. "Nothing you say is going to change us, you know that, don't you? At least, not today. Not about the past."

"Okay."

"Billy, I don't want this to be hideously painful for you. If it's going to be, then forget it, it's not worth it," Dom said softly.

"You are."

He frowned, confused. "I am what?"

"Worth it," Billy said, the tips of his ears going pink. "It won't be hideously painful, it really won't. But it's ...  Yeah. I might get a bit ... sharp. I'm sorry if I do."

"It's all right," Dom smiled. "And thank you."

Billy checked the mirrors and over his shoulder before changing lanes. "Should we start with the little things and work our way up to the big?"

"Sounds good. Just remember, Bill, if you need a break, or you need to wait a few days before continuing on, I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded. "Okay. We'll start with the park, then."

Dom relaxed back, content.




Billy sat on the swing, the stiff fabric band under his arse, his toes scuffling lines in the dirt underneath him. "We used to come here after school, usually having a bit of a kickabout along the way."

"Who's we?" Dom asked, sitting in the swing beside Billy, wrapping his fingers around the cold chains.

Billy shrugged. "It varied year by year.  Families came and went, you know? And we'd fall out with one group, in with another, the way kids do. There were two blokes that were pretty constant, though--Jimmy and Martin. Jimmy was a good pal the year Dad and Mum died, kept me out of brawls more than once."

"Have you stayed in touch with them?" Dom asked quietly, suspecting not since he'd never heard their names before. He twisted slowly back and forth in his swing, watching the chains overhead cross and uncross.

Billy shook his head. "Nah. Saw each other less when I left school to work, then Martin got some sort of temporary construction job in the north. And Jimmy left for London. Everyone wanted out, y'know?"

Dom watched him. "Did you want out?"

Billy nodded, but all he said was, "I heard Martin still lives around here somewhere." He suddenly pushed off hard with his feet and began to swing, legs pumping, gaining as much height as he could, flying through the air.




Billy gestured with his head. "Ground flat on the end. Keep walking. There are probably still people here I used to know, and I'm not up for chitchat. My room was at the back, that's the living room window there."

"You've come a long way, Bill," Dom murmured.

"Not that far," he said shortly. "God, it looks more rundown than it did last time I was here."

"When was that?"

"When Margaret moved out. She decided to sell up and move to a better neighbourhood."

"Did you mind her selling your home?" Dom asked quietly, curiously.

"Wasn't mine. That was our deal--she put me through the RSAMD, gave me room and board, and the place was hers. I never thought I'd be able to pay her back in actual money, so we figured that was the best solution. And it was."

"And did you mind her selling the house?" Dom repeated, tactfully looking away.

Silence. Then, "A bit."

"Would you live here now?" Dom let his arm brush Billy's, purposefully did it a second time.

"No," Billy admitted, sounding almost ashamed. "No, I wouldn't want to live here now."

Dom murmured, "No." He gave Billy a moment, then asked, "Where did you play?"

Billy cleared his throat. "The street. The close out behind. Anywhere we wanted, really, little terrors that we were."

"What kind of games did you play?" Dom looked over at him.

He shrugged, uncomfortable. "The usual. Cops and robbers. Football. Jedi knights. Picking on tykes younger than we were, and being picked on in turn by the older kids. Listen, Dom ... can we--"

"Did you walk to school, or bike, or take a bus?"

"All of the above. C'mon, let's go--" Billy rubbed his palms down his thighs.

"Where did your Gran live?"

"Other side of the motorway. I'm leaving, Dom," he snapped, turning and heading back the way they'd walked. "If you don't want to take the sodding bus home, then bloody well move it."

Dom followed him to the car.




By the time they reached the pub, Billy had calmed again, but he said nothing about why he'd got testy. "Looks a proper dive, but they do lunch, so..."

Dom glanced around as they entered the smoke-darkened interior, studied the chalkboard with a scant menu marked on it. "Busy," he commented. "You were a regular?"

Billy nodded as he found them a booth in the corner. "Aye. Drank here, and once we started getting gigs with the band, played here." He looked over at the tiny stage at the end of the long narrow pub, and his smile grew wistful. "Our first three gigs, we played for our drinks and some chips. When we realised people were actually coming to hear us, we demanded an honest-to-God paycheque."

"Such nerve," Dom grinned.

Billy chuckled, picked up a beer mat and turned it in his fingers. "We thought we were being so ballsy. I suppose we were, in a way--we were shite at the beginning."

"But you got better." Dom leaned back as the waitress arrived.

"What can I get you to drink, lads?" She asked, bored and hurried at the same time.

"Pint of cider, please," Dom said.

"Pint of your local, love," Billy murmured, not looking up.

"And to eat?"

"Ham sandwich and chips," Dom immediately piped up.

"Same, please." Billy still didn't lift his eyes.

The waitress gave him a sharp look as she left anyway.

Dom grinned. "I think you've been rumbled, Bills."

"Shite," he swore softly. "That's the bugger about coming back here."

"You don't like being recognised?"

He shook his head. "It's not that. It's being recognised around here. People remember me, but I don't remember them. Makes me feel a right prick."

Dom leaned forward on the bench, rested his elbows on the table. "Ah, don't worry about it, Bill. Most people are going to realise you've met thousands upon thousands of people over the years, you can't be expected to remember them all anymore."

He shrugged. "I know. But still ... "

"What was the name of your band, again?"

"Foreign Country. Stupid name, I know. Could we have been any more obvious that we thought we were hard done by, thought we were special?" Billy smiled. "But it was better than Alan's choice. He was our drummer."

"What was his choice?"

"Vivaldi's Illegitimate Sons."

Dom laughed out loud. "Oh, I don't know, it has a kind of flair to it. Where did you rehearse? Any of the lads have a convenient garage?"

"Nah. We used the music room at school sometimes while Glen was still there--he was a year younger than we were--or we'd rehearse at the community centre. We even played an outdoor gig in Auchinlea Park once. Not bad for a bunch of spotty-faced bams."

"That handsome face? Spotty?" Dom grinned. "I don't believe it."

"I did have a very soothing skin care regimen," Billy said with a perfectly straight face. "Margaret would get downright pissed off when I used her exfoliating masque."

"Most sisters do," Dom replied sagely.

"Then again, she'd steal my razor to shave her legs, so we were square."

Dom chuckled. "I always kind of wanted a sister, but I'd never have stood for that."

Billy's sudden grin was infectious. "Oh, I didn't, believe me. Her baffies--her slippers," he added at Dom's look of query. "Her baffies were full of shaving cream next morning. Gran gave us both a bollocking for being juvenile and wasteful."

"As well she should," Dom said stoutly. "Shameful behaviour. I'm quite disappointed in you, William."

Billy stuck his tongue out, and then turned red as a loud laugh rang out and an older, beefy man approached the table.

"Ah, I see you haven't changed much, Young Billy, have you now?" he said, and clapped a broad hand on Billy's shoulder.

Billy leaned back in the booth with a rueful grin and looked up at the grey-haired man. "No, not so much, Old Billy. Bloody hell, how are you, man? I thought for sure you'd be dead and buried beneath your bar by now." He looked over at Dom, a pleased expression lighting his eyes. "Dom, this is Old Billy--the bloke that gave the band our big break into showbiz. Old Billy, this is my mate, Dom."

Old Billy held out his hand and shook Dom's firmly. "Nice to meet you, son. Young Billy's bringing you back to his old haunt, eh?" He looked down at Billy again. "Christ, but it's good to see you again. You've done well for yourself, haven't you? Right big Hollywood movie star, you are."

"Bollocks," Billy grinned. "How've you been keeping, Old Billy? The place still looks just the same, thank God."

"Ach, I'm well enough, well enough." He smiled at Dom. "The boy spent so much time in here it's a wonder he didn't move a sodding bed in. Got to the point that someone would shout for Billy, and even though it's my bloody pub, we'd both shout back, 'Aye?'. Somewhere along the line the punters gave up and started shouting for Old Billy or Young Billy, and bugger me sideways if seeing him again didn't bring that all back, clear as day. And with my memory, that's saying something."

Dom laughed. "Yeah, he's got a knack for making himself memorable, doesn't he?"

Old Billy laughed out loud again. "That he does, it's true."

From the direction of the kitchen, someone shouted, "Billy?"

Grinning at each other like a pair of mad hatters, both Billys bellowed "Aye?" and then laughed until their faces were red.

Old Billy wiped his eyes, and still chuckling, said, "It's good to see you again, son. I'd better go and see what they've made an arse of this time, but don't wait another ten years to come back. I'd like to see you once more before I shuffle off this mortal coil, all right?"

Billy stuck out his hand and shook Old Billy's, one solid pump. "No chance," he grinned, "You'll outlive us all, old man. But aye ... I'll be back."

"Smashing." He clapped Billy on the shoulder again as he said to Dom, "And nice to meet you, son. Come for a pint anytime--any friend of Young Billy's is more than welcome in my pub."

"Thanks, I'd like that," Dom smiled.

Billy chuckled as Old Billy walked off toward the kitchen just as a noisy crash sounded from behind the swinging door. "Someone's in for a bollocking."

Dom watched Billy's eyes. "He seems nice."

"Old Billy? Yeah, he's a decent bloke. He can be hard, and he's got a bit of a temper, but usually if you're on the receiving end, you deserve it. God, I honestly didn't think he'd still be here. He was talking about selling up the last couple of months I was coming here."

"It seems like the place wouldn't be the same without him."

Billy shook his head. "It wouldn't. It definitely wouldn't."

The waitress arrived then with their pints, and after she'd carefully set them down and left again, Dom asked, "So where else are you taking me today?"

Billy took a long swallow of his clear amber ale, then set the glass down and wiped off his upper lip. He saw Dom watching the movement and smiled. "Horny git."

"Hell, yeah," Dom grinned, the tips of his ears going red nonetheless.

"Well, let's see. You've seen where I went to school. You've seen where I lived. You've seen where I played. You've seen where I drank." He shrugged. "That's all the important stuff, isn't it?"

Dom circumspectly lowered his eyes. "I don't think so, no. I mean, it's important," he added quickly, tapping his forefinger into a bead of water on the tabletop. "All that's important, and I'm glad you showed me, I wanted to see it. But ... "

"But what?" Billy asked, and when Dom glanced up at him, it was to see a frown on his face.

"But ... " Dom hesitated, then blurted, "You've been uncomfortable the whole time, you've seemed ambivalent about even being in those places again. None of this has shown me what keeps you tied to Glasgow. You haven't been back here in ten years, Old Billy said. This pub helped make you who you are, but it's not what keeps you connected to Glasgow now."

Billy looked away. "I know," he said quietly.

Dom tried not to feel hurt. "Then why--"

"I just hoped--" Billy began, stopped, and then started again, more uncertainly. "I don't know. I guess I hoped you'd see in my past ...  Shite."

"Take your time."

Billy rubbed a hand through his hair, then tidied it out of habit. "All right. Let me try this again. It shows how I feel in a way, because like you said, these places made me who I am--in every respect. I was a working class stooge from a shite neighbourhood, comparatively, and I had to get the fuck out, Dom. I tried traveling first, but that didn't work well, so I went to the RSAMD. And I did get out, you know? I actually managed to get out of the scheme and go after the one thing that I truly loved. And no, I don't want to go back, so in that way the connection I had to those places is gone, but ... but I don't want to forget who I am. All this--this celebrity shite has changed me, and I don't want to change anymore, see? But if I stay in Glasgow, I can't forget who I am and where I came from, and it keeps me grounded. That's part of it. Does that make any sense?"

Dom nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, it makes sense. It explains a lot. You felt a bit ... claustrophobic when we were on your street, didn't you?"

Billy took another long pull off his pint. "Yeah, I suppose that's as good a word as any."

"And will you show me the other part? Can you show me what connects you now?"

He bobbed his head once, shortly. "I'll try."

"Thank you, Bills. This means a lot to me."

Billy let out a huff of breath, and then smiled, if a bit weakly. "It damn well ought to. Bastard."

Dom grinned. "I'd kiss you right now, except I think Old Billy would thump me over the head if I did."

Billy couldn't help but laugh. "I think you're right."

Chapter 18