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Title: You're A Map Of A Place Maybe Someday I'll Go Ch. 10/22
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 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

First posted July, 2006

It was late when they got back to Glasgow. Billy had lost track of time while they were kissing (snogging and necking like teenagers, he teased Dom with pink-tinged cheeks) inside the folly overlooking Oban. He unlocked the door to his building with a sigh, and shifted his carrier bags to one hand to rub his neck wearily with the other as they climbed the stairs.

"You okay, Bill?" Dom asked, one stair behind him.

"Yeah. Got a headache. I'm not used to driving any distance at night anymore, I think all the headlamps shining in my eyes bothered me." They arrived at his door, and he unlocked it, letting Dom with his carrier bags go through first.

"You've gone soft, Boyd," Dom grinned, not letting on that he was tired himself.

"I've gone old, is what I've gone," he grumbled, putting down his bags and toeing off his trainers, kicking the door shut behind him.

"You're not going to start that again, are you?"

"No, no. This is different," Billy insisted. "I've changed the last two or three years, you know. Things I didn't think would happen until I was at least forty-five. It's shite." He wandered into the living room and threw himself onto the sofa.

Dom followed slowly, then perched on the arm of the sofa beside Billy, who slouched there looking dejected. "What 'things'?"

"This whole lights bothering my eyes at night thing," he waved an arm.

"You said yourself you haven't driven much at night in a while. You're just not used to it," Dom tried to reason.

"No, it's more than that. I think--I think I might need ... driving glasses." He sounded miserable.

Dom knew it was a mistake, knew he shouldn't, but he simply could not help the laugh that escaped.

"Very nice," Billy muttered, stung. "Mock the decrepit old bastard, go ahead."

Still grinning, Dom mildly said, "You can't be Old and Decrepit. Otherwise what's left for me?" He slid off the arm of the sofa to bounce onto the cushion beside Billy. "Glasses are not the end of the world, especially if you're only wearing them for driving, so stop being a big girl's blouse. What other 'things' have changed?"

"Bugger off." He grumpily crossed his arms on his chest.

"That's a nice way to talk to the bloke you were snogging like a teenager a few hours ago," Dom said with a touch of asperity. "It's not just glasses that have you this pissed off. What's wrong?"

"If you must know, my hair is going grey, and my blood pressure is high."

Dom's forehead wrinkled. "How high?"

"Not high enough for medication. Yet," Billy answered darkly.

"When was this?"

"I had my annual physical last week, what does it matter? I had to go, I'd already rescheduled three times. Wasn't exactly in the mood for that, believe me."

"I can imagine, actually. Will you do something for me, Bill?" Dom asked.


"Get it checked again in a couple of weeks? Life wasn't exactly a bed of roses for you last week. Who knows, maybe the stress bumped it up, and when things even out, so will your blood pressure. But get it checked, yeah?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"No, I mean it, Billy," Dom insisted. "The life we lead is a bit hard on a body. You have to take care of yourself, and I want you to watch this blood pressure thing, all right?"

"Yes, nurse," Billy muttered.

"Don't fuck around with it, Boyd," Dom said sharply, more worry than he intended seeping into his voice.

Billy sighed and awkwardly reached over to pat Dom's knee. "Sorry, Dom. I'll keep an eye on it, I promise. Maybe you're right, maybe it's just stress and getting lagered up. I'm just tired, and a bit grumpy thanks to this headache. It's okay, honestly."

"I'm going to ask you about it in a few weeks," he warned, not meeting Billy's eyes. He rubbed two fingertips across the back of Billy's hand, still resting on his knee.

"Okay," Billy smiled tiredly.

Dom was silent for a moment, wondering if he should suggest Billy go to bed, or if he should try and help with the headache. He finally decided on the latter, and climbed to his feet. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back." He went to the kitchen and fetched two paracetamol from the bottle that still sat on the counter, poured a glass of water, and returned to Billy. "Here. Take these."

Billy wordlessly held his hand up for the pills, took the glass of water, and quickly downed both. "Thanks, mate," he murmured, setting the glass on the coffee table.

"I'm going to bed soon. But first why don't we see if we can't do a bit more to help that headache?" Dom sat in the corner of the sofa and patted his lap. "Lie down for a few minutes. Put your head on my stomach."

"It's all right, Dom, I'll just--"

"Lie down. Now," he ordered, and waited.

With a little smile, Billy laid down on his side, his head on Dom's thigh.

Dom sighed loudly. "You never listen to me, have you noticed that? I said put your head on my stomach. Lie on your back--or at least mostly on your back."

Billy shifted around until Dom approved, and then he relaxed and closed his eyes.

Dom looked down at him for a moment, then placed the tips of his first two fingers of each hand on Billy's temples, and began to firmly, slowly rub in little circles.

"Mmm. Feels good," Billy breathed, the weight of his head sinking further into Dom's stomach.

"Good. Just relax, and between the paracetamol and this, your headache should be gone in no time," Dom said quietly.

A few minutes later, his eyes still closed, Billy murmured, "I'm glad you kissed me today."

Dom smiled. "I am too. I'm glad you kissed me back."

Billy's chuckle was barely audible. "How's your man-tackle?"

"It's just fine, thank you very much. How's your head?"

"A little better, I think. What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"Doesn't matter," Dom said, his voice soft. He rather suspected Billy was drifting towards sleep. "Did you want to take another road trip or stick around the city? You could take me to that big museum you told me about."

"Nope. 'S closed for renovations. For a couple of years. Can you wait a couple of years, Dom?"

Dom quirked a wry grin. "I'm good at waiting."

Billy shifted, turning his head towards Dom, but he still didn't open his eyes. The creases in his forehead deepened ever so slightly. "Why didn't you ever say anything, Dom? If--if it stayed with you, like it did me, why didn't you ever say something?"

"Why didn't you?" Dom countered gently.

"I--I wanted to, you know," he said quietly. "After that week in New Zealand, I wanted to, but I didn't know if it was a good idea while we were still filming. And then ... I don't know. I didn't know how. I wasn't sure. And you seemed--different after you moved to L.A. I thought I had just been a passing fancy for you, so I convinced myself of the same thing. But ... if you had ... "

"I think we'd better not play the 'if only', game, it'll only give us regrets. But I thought you were in love with Ali, Bill, and I certainly wasn't going to hurt you by trying to destroy that."

Billy fell silent, thinking about it.

Dom continued to rub Billy's temples, even though his fingers were starting to get tired, and he still kept going even when nearly twenty minutes later Billy's lips parted, and his hand slid off his stomach, and he gave a whistling little snore.

Looking down at him, Dom longed to touch his skin, to feel the difference in the texture, the pliancy of his skin as Dom's hand traveled from Billy's throat, to his chest and through the crisp hairs there, down his arm and across the inside of his elbow and the tissue-thin skin of his wrist. To see what reaction he would elicit if he dragged his fingernails down Billy's sides, over his ribs, if he dipped his tongue into his navel, what his thighs would feel like compared to the backs of his knees, what the bare skin of his arse would feel like under Dom's hands.

Dom dropped his head back against the sofa cushion and squeezed his eyes shut. He really wasn't helping matters any, letting his thoughts run away with him like that. Billy might need days, weeks even, before he was ready to move beyond a little fun and sexy snogging. Dom, on the other hand, could happily strip him naked this very second. And if he kept thinking along these lines, not only was he going to have the painfully hard erection that was currently making him shift uncomfortably on the sofa, but the fact that he was in love with Billy was really going to start to hurt, even more than it already did.

Dom finally lifted his head and gave Billy's shoulder a shake. "Billy. Bills?" he quietly said. "Wake up a bit. Just enough to get yourself to bed. I'm not carrying you, drooling idiot that you are."

Billy licked his lips, and Dom's attention was immediately riveted to that pointy pink tongue.

He shook Billy's shoulder more firmly. "Up."

"No," Billy mumbled. "You lie down."

"There isn't enough room for both of us on the sofa. Go to bed."

"Bed's cold."

"It'll warm up. Go," Dom insisted, trying to get up.

But Billy's arm snaked out and around Dom's waist as he rolled over to nuzzle his nose into Dom's side. "You're warm."

"That's because I've had you lying all over me for the last half hour," he half-lied. "Come on, Billy, I'm tired, I want to go to bed."

"Okay. Okay, Dom. 'S time for bed. Okay," he mumbled as he slowly sat up, listing a little to the side. "Go and use the bathroom. Then me."

"No, you first. I'm just going to go and check the door's locked," Dom insisted, knowing he was going to be more than a minute in the bathroom. He was going to have to do something about his hard-on if he hoped to get any sleep at all.

"Okay. Me first then." Billy got up and stumbled down the hall.

Dom watched him go, then quickly, firmly palmed himself through his jeans and choked back a moan. He staggered to his feet, checked the bolt was shot on the front door, moved the carrier bags they'd dropped in the front hall when they came home to the kitchen, went into his bedroom and turned the bedside lamp on, pulled back his covers, and undressed down to his shorts. He waited impatiently for Billy to finish in the bathroom, was relieved when he finally heard the door, and poked his head out into the hallway. "All done in there, Bill?"

"Yeah. 'S all yours."

"Thanks. Goodnight."


Dom watched him walk into his room, and ducked out to quickly enter the bathroom and close the door. He lowered his shorts, sat on the closed toilet seat lid, and rubbed his palms together for a moment to warm and sensitize his skin before curling the fingers of his right hand around his erection and sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. God, but he hadn't been this hard in a long time. He worked himself slowly at first--because if he came too fast, it would leave him unsatisfied and edgy and unable to sleep. As he pulled his cock, thumbing the tip and spreading the fluid there beneath his fingers, he allowed his thoughts to drift to Billy, imagined it was Billy's fingers squeezing and stroking and teasing his cock, imagined Billy's breath hot on his neck as he kissed and licked and nibbled his way down Dom's throat, just like he had earlier that evening. Dom fantasised about Billy's weight against him, imagined that instead of Billy's fingers on him, it was Billy's cock sliding against his, and he shuddered as a sudden heat coursed through him. But it was when he thought of Billy's tongue, that pointed, talented slickness, that was when he began to quietly pant, when his thighs began to tremble, when his hand sped up. Dom envisioned Billy's tongue lightly flicking his cock, curving to draw him in between those gorgeous lips, sliding against him; he thrust hard into his hand twice and he came, biting his lip to keep from making any noise as he shook and bucked and caught his come in a wad of toilet tissue.

A few minutes later, a weary Dom walked back to his room, licking a missed bit of toothpaste off his lower lip. He paused in the doorway, then made his way over to his bed in the dark and climbed in.

"Mnfph," Billy grunted.

With a cut-off shout, Dom sat bolt upright, his heart hammering. "I knew I'd left the light on! Jesus fuck, Billy, what the hell are you doing in my bed?" he demanded loudly. "Are you trying to give me another fucking asthma attack? What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Your bed's warmer," he mumbled, sounding half-asleep, but Dom didn't see how he could be after all that shouting.

"It is not, it's exactly the same as yours!"

"Couldn't warm up in my bed the other night," he fuzzily explained. "Did in yours, though."

"That's because I was in it, and you were sucking all the heat out of me!" Suddenly Dom wasn't sure why he was protesting. He should be, he knew, and dammit, this wasn't fair of Billy, but ...  but Dom loved having Billy in his bed, hearing all the varied and amusing and endearing noises he made during the night, waking up entangled in his arms, which just made him wonder if sleeping Billy knew what he wanted more than waking Billy did.

"Yeah," Billy murmured.

Dom choked out, "Yeah what?"

"Because you were in it. You're not in my bed, you're here. Lie down and shut the fuck up," he mumbled.

Dom stared down at Billy, unable to see anything but the vaguest pale shadow of a bare shoulder. He slowly lay down, flat on his back and stiff and uncomfortable. He was afraid if he touched Billy's skin, just once, he'd wrap himself around him and cling like a limpet for the night.

"G'night, Dom," Billy whispered.

"'Night, Bills," Dom managed quietly. He was just beginning to drift half an hour later when a sleeping Billy rolled over, tucked his head against Dom's neck, dropped a hand on the center of his chest, and twined their legs together.

Dom sighed, wrapped his arms around Billy, and held on for dear life. It was quite some time before he fell asleep.

In the morning, Dom woke slowly, reveling in the hedonistic pleasure of warm bare skin against his own, of an arm curled tightly around him as he sprawled over the body beneath him, of a heartbeat next to his ear, and of gentle fingers in his hair. "Mmm."

"Morning, Dom," Billy whispered.


Ah. Right. It was Billy he was lounging on, Billy holding him, Billy nuzzling a nose into his hair. And Billy wasn't, apparently, uncomfortable. Or trying to go anywhere.

"Morning," he rasped, wondering what now.

"Sleep well?" Billy kept his voice low, and there was a smile present in it.

"Uhh--yeah. Great. Like a baby. You?" Dom croaked.

"Perfectly. You know I sleep better when I can hear you," he murmured, unconsciously echoing Dom's words from the night he'd arrived and had had to talk Billy into getting some sleep. His fingers continued to slip through Dom's hair, down his neck, ghosting across the bone behind his ear.

Dom was at a complete and utter loss. What should he say? Should he keep up the small talk? Should he describe how every single atom of his being was singing with delight at being so held and caressed and petted by Billy? Should he point out that their body contact was a lot more familiar than Billy had indicated he wanted to get, for now, anyway? Or should he just keep his bloody enormous mouth shut?

He decided that last one sounded good, and lifted his fingers from where they lay, not even moving his hand, to slowly stroke across Billy's shoulder.

Twenty silent minutes later, Billy's hand was smoothing up and down Dom's bare back, down to the waistband of his pants and up again, sliding over his shoulders, down the back of his arm. Dom's fingers traced random patterns on one side of Billy's chest, fingertips skirting near but never actually touching his nipple, detouring to skim up his throat, along his jaw, around his ear and back down again as far as his waist. It was intimate, it was sensuous, it was oddly comforting and, even as much as he wanted Billy, Dom wouldn't have ended this exploratory touching for anything, until Billy needed to move.

Billy sighed, briefly cupped the back of Dom's head with his hand, and bent his neck to kiss his hair. "I have to get up," he murmured. "Nature calls."

"Tell her to ring back later," Dom whispered with a curving smile, even as he shifted off of him.

Billy chuckled quietly. "Smartmouth. You want coffee?"

"Mm. Yes, please." Dom rolled over to watch as Billy climbed out of bed, stretched, did nothing to hide the erection that tented his shorts. Dom grinned as Billy's ears turned pink, though, and he snickered as Billy turned and left the room, a hmph drifting back from the hallway.

Dom stayed in bed for a bit, lying on his back with his arms behind his head, listening to every sound that came to him. Billy rummaging in his room, probably for clean clothes. After the bathroom door closed, there was silence for a few minutes, and Dom knew with a grin that Billy was waiting for the morning wood to soften so he could take a piss. Doing the mundane morning routine of brushing his teeth, blowing his nose, cleaning his ears maybe, and then finally the toilet flushed. Dom considered giving a congratulatory cheer but decided against it. He heard the shower start and idly timed it, wondering if Billy was still in need of a remedy for his erection but, when the water shut off after less than five minutes, Dom assumed no wank for Billy, the stoic lad. More silence, presumably while he dried himself off, and then the hum of his razor. Ahh, he'd chosen to rid himself of his lethargic wallowing-induced stubble, then. And finally the bathroom door opened, and Dom could just make out Billy's quiet footfalls heading to the kitchen to start the coffee.

Dom lay still a few minutes longer, listening to the low sounds coming from the kitchen, sounds of utter domesticity, and he wondered when exactly that had become something he craved. He'd lived in the light of Hollywood for several years now, out to events and premieres and parties and benefits and everything else under the sun, and he enjoyed it and was used to it.

So what was with the sudden urge to hole up with Billy, hide away, just the two of them, and play houses? Maybe it was just because for the first time in so many years, he and Billy living together--together--seemed a possibility, one that he was clinging to with his very fingernails.

Nearly half an hour later, Dom walked into the kitchen--showered, shaved, dressed, and very hungry. There was a pot on the stove, which of course meant porridge, Dom's coffee was waiting for him in the carafe, and Billy was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea and reading The Glasgow Herald. Dom paused, devouring the sight of him indulging in such an ordinary, everyday, private moment; he saw with pleasure that Billy looked content and there was some colour back in his face. When he looked up with a smile, Dom couldn't help himself. He walked over, took Billy's face between his hands, and bent over to kiss him thoroughly, delving into his hot sweet tea-flavoured mouth with his tongue, his hands sliding back to support Billy's head.

Billy made a soft noise into his mouth and, as his hand slowly rose to grip Dom's waist, slid a finger through one of the belt loops on his waistband. He carefully, smoothly rose from his chair, not breaking the kiss, and used his finger through the loop to tug Dom closer, his other hand pressing against the small of his back to keep him there.

Smiling into the kiss, Dom relaxed into passivity, letting Billy take control and decide how far to go and how quickly to get there. He let go of Billy's head, let his hands rest lightly on Billy's hips, let Billy explore his mouth, teasing with his tongue. When Billy slowly, easily walked him backward to lean against the counter, Dom didn't demur; he simply moved where he was directed. Billy rested against him but almost weightlessly, letting Dom stay unruffled, unlike the previous night's glorious but maddening heat and pressure and friction.

Dom wondered if Billy was figuring out what he wanted, because he was kissing with confidence and a gentle sureness that set little sparks of hope flaring in Dom's chest, that made him feel the rightness of being that intimate with Billy even more deeply than he had the day before. And he realised that the very lack of fervor that had marked their contact the night before was what gave him this warm, settled feeling inside now. It was quiet, and soft, and reassuring, and felt like ... well, it felt like love. And Dom thought if he were the crying sort, he'd be bursting into tears on Billy's shirtfront at that very moment.

Finally Billy feathered several light kisses across Dom's lips and pulled back a few inches. One look in Billy's eyes, though, was too much for Dom after that luxurious kiss, and he laid his head on Billy's shoulder, forehead against his jaw, arms slipping around Billy's waist. Billy had such speaking eyes, and perhaps not everyone could translate what they said, but everyone could hear it and those eyes held people rapt--something Dom had commented on in public, rather to Billy's embarrassment. But Dom could translate green telling eyes, most of the time anyway, and just then they had been so deep and resonant that it shook Dom clear through to his spine. Nevertheless, he still snorted at the flight of fancy that Billy's eyes could speak to him.

Billy had wrapped his arms around Dom when he'd laid his head down, and hugged him. "What're you laughing at?"

"I can sort of read your eyes," he explained, turning a bit pink. "And I thought of it as them speaking to me. Shut up," he grumbled, feeling Billy shake with laughter.

"Sorry. But you have to admit it sounds kind of funny," he said, his voice trembling. He tightened his arms around Dom. "So what did my eyes say?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but to me it looked like they were saying that at this particular moment, you're where you want to be," Dom said quietly, suddenly highly skeptical of his translating abilities. "Never mind. Listen, can we--"

Billy said, "I am." He turned his head to kiss Dom's hair.

"You--you are what?"

"Where I want to be right now."

Dom tucked his face in tighter against Billy's neck, almost unwilling to believe the entire situation wasn't just a figment of his imagination. Billy touching him, holding him, kissing him, seeming to be heading to the same place Dom was--it was so ...  "I need coffee before I can trust this is real," he mumbled.

Billy chuckled. "I know how you feel."

"No," Dom murmured. "I don't think you do." He lifted his head and assailed Billy's mouth with his, briefly but with a crystal clear intention, driving his tongue into Billy's mouth, crushing their lips so hard he thought his teeth might cut in as he ground his open mouth against Billy's and pressed his erection hard against Billy's hip.

And then he let go and walked away.

Five minutes later, Billy poked his head out onto the balcony, then walked out and closed the door behind him. "Okay, Dom?"

Dom sat in the chair, knees tucked in tight to his chest and feet up on the railing. There wasn't room for Billy to stand in front. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that, Bills."

Billy moved two steps to stand beside him, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. Dom had no doubt it contained the perfect amount of milk and sugar--Billy was so carefully observant about the little things. It was just the big ones that flew over his head like a bloody aeroplane taking off. Billy handed the mug to him and said, "I hope you mean the walking out, and not that kiss. I'd hate to think you regretted that."

Dom didn't look up, but he smiled as he took the proffered coffee. "Thanks. No, I don't regret kissing you. I just didn't mean to be quite so ... "

"Thorough?" Billy asked wryly, and then began to tease him. "Masterful? Authoritarian? Bold? Stern?"

"All right, all right," Dom snorted. "I was thinking I didn't mean to be so aggressive, you twat. I didn't--I don't want to--"

"You won't," Billy said, and gave Dom's shoulder a squeeze. "Not like that, you won't. I'm not fragile, Dom. At least, I'm not now," he added. "I suppose I was when you first got here, but I'm not now--a little assertiveness is not going to frighten me away. And you know what, Dom?"


"My eyes may say things to you, but it's your kisses that speak to me. And I have a feeling there's a part to all this that you're not telling me." He spoke quietly, kindly. "You can tell me if you want to, Dom. Nothing you can say will scare me away or change how I'm trying to--to understand everything. Talk to me if you want." He laid a gentle hand on Dom's head. "Come inside if it starts to rain, all right?"

All Dom could do was nod, and then Billy was back in the flat, closing the door behind him.

Dom let out breath that he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. So Billy could read his kisses, could he? Well--that was a good thing, right? He'd know what Dom meant, even if he was having trouble expressing it.

On the other hand, Jeremy Irons pointed out with slightly malicious glee, if Billy could read his kisses, then perhaps he knew what Dom meant a little too well. What had he just said? There's a part to all this that you're not telling me.

So? Dom challenged. It wasn't a secret that Dom wanted him, and it was no mystery there had been need in that kiss.

But, Jeremy Irons said, as if to a particularly stupid child, if it wasn't a secret, then that probably wasn't what he meant, was it? What if--and Jeremy Irons paused, and Dom swore it was to make sure he was paying attention, and he briefly feared for his sanity again--what if the part Billy was referring to was not the need but the love?

Dom froze.

What, Jeremy Irons persisted, if Billy could read that Dom was in love with him? Was that a good thing at this point?

Dom swallowed. Well ... well, how could it be bad, really? Think about it. He mentally straightened to face Jeremy Irons. If Billy knew Dom was in love with him, maybe it would reassure him so that he could find his own way more clearly. If Billy knew Dom was in love with him, maybe he'd be a little more careful in his physical exploration, knowing he was really pushing Dom. And if Billy knew Dom was in love with him, but Dom didn't actually say it--then he could deny it if everything went pear-shaped.

A small point, Jeremy Irons conceded. But if Billy knew Dom was in love with him, he'd know he could ask anything, suggest anything, demand anything, and he'd get it. He could use Dom's emotions against him.

But Billy wouldn't do that! Dom refused to even consider the idea--Billy would never purposely use him like that.

And if it wasn't purposeful? Dom swore if the Jeremy Irons in his head had eyebrows, they'd be raised. What if Billy didn't realise he was doing it? What if, in trying to decide where his own heart lay, he walked all over Dom's without even noticing? What then?

Dom abruptly stood and went inside. Billy sat on the sofa, watching TV, obviously waiting for Dom and casually trying to look like he wasn't waiting, and he flinched a bit when Dom put his mug on the coffee table and threw himself on the sofa. But when Dom laid his head in Billy's lap and turned his face toward his stomach, Billy visibly relaxed.

"Make him stop," Dom muttered.


"Jeremy fucking Irons. Make him leave me the hell alone. If I'm not certifiably insane for hearing his voice in my head in the first place, he's going to drive me there."

Billy chuckled and laid a hand on Dom's shoulder, rubbing gently up and down his arm. "Is he arguing with you again?"

"Yeah. Rotten bastard."

"What's he saying this time?"

Dom realised he had boxed himself in, and suddenly he had a choice to make. An enormous choice, and he honestly didn't know what to do. He didn't know if he should tell Billy what he'd argued in his head or not. Should he tell Billy he was in love with him? Would it make things easier, or infinitely more difficult? But then again, would it really come as any surprise in the first place? Surely Billy had to assume that if Dom had kept that little pint jar for all these years, it was more than a crush, it was more than simple lust, that it had to be because he loved him--at least a bit. And then it struck him that Billy had said it had been with him ever since that week in New Zealand as well. So did that mean Billy loved him--at least a bit?

"Dom?" Billy questioned, sounding a little concerned. "What is it?"

Before he could really decide what to do, he found himself shaking his head and saying, "Maybe later."

"Are you sure? You don't--you look a bit--"

"I'm sure. I can't do this right now," he mumbled into Billy's soft black shirt.

"All right," Billy said immediately, softly. "It's all right. We can talk later, Dom, it's okay."

"Thanks," he whispered.

Billy moved the hand on Dom's arm briskly. "Come on. You need breakfast, some juice, and more coffee, not necessarily in that order. And then I thought we'd go out for a bit, if that's all right?"

"Go out where?" Dom heaved a deep breath and pressed his forehead against Billy's ribs for a moment before climbing to his feet and heading for the kitchen.

Billy followed, and as Dom sat at the table, he passed him a glass of orange, pineapple, and grapefruit juice waiting on the counter.

Dom took a sip, then smiled. "What's this, so I don't miss Hawaii?"

"It was in my freezer. But yeah," Billy said honestly, "I think you were in the back of my mind when I bought it. It was weeks ago."

Dom ducked his head. "Thanks, Bills."

"Do you want the rest of the porridge, or have you had enough porridge since you met me to last you a lifetime?" Billy teased.

"Both. Something about being in Scotland makes me want to eat it, even though I swear every time is the last time," Dom grinned, finally at ease again. "You never said, where did you want to go today?" He drained the rest of the juice in two long swallows.

Billy was staring at his throat. "What? Oh--ehm ... Well, it depends, are you up for a little walking?"

"Sure. Where to?"

"Well, there's a music shop I want to get to, and it's not too far from here. And then just a bit of a walk past there is this place that does lunchtime theatre, and the play this week is directed by Kath Howden--remember? She was the one did Ballad of Crazy Paola with me. I ran into her a few weeks ago, before ... " His eyes dropped briefly. "Well, before everything hit the fan, you know? Anyway, I said I'd try and make it, if I could."

"Lunchtime theatre, huh? So we pick something up and take it in?"

"God, no," Billy grinned at him. "For ten quid, you get a pie, a drink, and your hour's entertainment all in one."

Dom cocked his head. "Really? That's an excellent idea."

"According to Kath, the place is nearly full most days, so it obviously appeals to a lot of people. Does that sound all right with you, then?"

"Sounds good." He picked up the refilled coffee mug Billy set in front of him. "Thanks, Bills. You don't have to serve me, I can get off my arse and get it myself, you know."

"I know," he said mildly. "I was standing in front of the coffeemaker anyway. But you're on your own for your porridge, I don't know how much you want."

Dom took a sip of his coffee, and then got to his feet and took the bowl Billy handed to him. "Thanks." He lifted the lid off the pot and began ladling porridge. "And what's the plan after lunch?"

"Whatever you like." Billy leaned back against the counter with his own cup of tea. "We can just walk a bit, come home, or if there's anything you'd like to see, we can either come back for the car or get a taxi. Most of the time when you're here, we're either at a party or a pub, so you've not seen much of Glasgow but the motorways."

Sitting at the table, Dom said, "Then I can hardly be expected to know what to see, can I? You're the tour guide on this little expedition, you know." He began to eat.

"Sure, put it all on me," Billy sighed dramatically. "Depends, do you want something to do, or just to see?"

Dom chuckled and shook his head. "Your call, Bills. Show me your favourite places, whatever those may be. I place myself in your capable hands."

Billy pushed off from the counter, and as he walked past Dom, leaned over slightly to say, "I like the sound of that."

It was a moment before Dom could swallow his porridge.

Chapter 11"