Fic: Mix and Mingle, for desire_billy

[eff_reality]

Title: Mix and Mingle
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dom/Billy
Premise: AU. Dom and Elijah are aspiring actors trying to make it in NY. For extra holiday money, they work as Santa's Helpers at the Macy's in Herald Square. Enter Billy.
Note: Originally, I had planned for this to be an uber(and I mean uber)-cracky North Pole AU, where Dom is actually one of Santa's Helpers and falls in love with Billy over the years of going down his chimney to help the big guy deliver gifts. Elijah was going to be a doll come to life that gives him advice. Despite my fic track record, I have an insanely cracky sense of humor, ladies and gents. But I thought I should do something that would give reading pleasure to the general public (and the lovely desire_billy) rather than just my cracky self. So, here it is. Still cracky, but just slightly more believable.
Feedback: is my anti-drug. Help keep me off the pipe.


Every muscle in Dominic's body visibly relaxes at the final chorus of That's the jingle bell ro-ooooooock! He half-turns to Elijah, tugging on one of his enormous bell sleeves with a huge sigh. "I fucking hate that song."

Elijah smiles and waves at a pair of identical twins, about five or six years old, near the front of the line. He speaks through clenched teeth. "They have the same two Christmas albums on a loop. I've been here since yesterday." The twins giggle and clutch each other's arms, hiding behind their father's legs. Elijah shakes his head violently, making the cheap little bells on his hat jingle. The girls cackle and blush furiously, and Elijah looks triumphant.

"How's Orlando? I haven't seen him in a while." Dominic smiles softly at the girls and gives a little wave. It's been four hours of this shite already, but he's still human.

"Umm..." Elijah's brow furrows as he tries to think over the loudspeakers' Silent Night and the boisterous Ho, ho, ho's coming from their left. "He's doing a production of Hamlet right now, in Queens. I'm going to opening next weekend, if you wanna come."

"Yeah, love to," Dominic chirps. "Queens. That's a fucking trek." One of the twins works up the courage to initiate a wave, and he rewards her by throwing her a candy cane. She catches it, and he puts a finger to his pursed lips. "Shhh." They're not supposed to get one until after they've seen Santa.

The tone of Elijah's voice turns mischievous. "Well... apparently he's banging Laertes, who lives in Astoria. So that cuts down on his commute considerably."

Dominic stifles a laugh behind a gloved hand. "Never underestimate the value of a good showmance."

A boy and a girl bound up to them expectantly, having just leapt off of Santa's lap. They each get a candy cane. "Merry Christ-mas," Elijah singsongs without a thought in his head.

"Who's Orlando playing? In Hamlet?" Dominic scratches the back of his head, his bells jingling. Fucking elf hat itches.

Elijah's face scrunches up. "I don't remember."

"Not Hamlet, then?" Dominic smirks.

"No," Elijah giggles.

"Is he still working at Uno's?"

"Yup."

Dominic sighs. "Well, do what you got to do."

"Yeah," Elijah's eyes widen as he gestures down at his own getup. "No shit."

Silent Night ends, and Dominic tenses as those familiar, grating little godforsaken chords start up again. "Fucking hell, you've got to be--" He cuts himself off as his eyes settle on a patron somewhere between the middle and the end of the line. "Hel-lo there."

The obnoxious sounds of Jingle bell swing and jingle bell ring fade into the background as Dominic surveys what will surely become his object of lust for the next forty-five minutes or so, if Santa's track record is reliable. He elbows Elijah and clears his throat, pointedly staring at the slight man in the sage button-down and battered jeans.

"Hm," Elijah considers. "Not really your type, is he?"

"Keep looking," Dominic insists, taking in the abnormally green eyes and the ginger hair, disheveled at the crown like the man was dragged out of bed too early for his liking. The lovely little ears, the bit of chest hair exposed above the third button of his shirt.

Elijah is silent for a long moment before conceding, "O-kay. I can see it. He's cute. Wouldn't say sexy."

The man cranes his neck to look at the elaborate decorations hanging from the ceiling. When it comes to Christmas, Macy's doesn't hold back, after all. The tendon that stretches from just behind his ear down to his collar shows, long and milky.

"Mmm," Dominic and Elijah exhale together.

Dominic flexes his fingers, his gloves going taut in the dips between them. "I wanna lick his neck."

"I like his mouth," Elijah answers.

"Yeah, that's nice too."

It's all nice, really. Compact. Adorable. Sweet. The man turns a full 180 degrees in place, his eyes still focused on the ceiling, and shoves his hands into his back pockets, stretching the denim taut over his backside.

Dominic pinches Elijah's side. Hard.

"Calm down, Jesus!" Elijah laughs. "Remember: we're here for the children." His eyes rake over the man again, and his company. "Besides, he looks to be very taken."

Dominic sighs at the sight of a little girl fumbling for the man's hand, and a grown woman at his side, looking very patient. Still, he holds out hope. "Doesn't have to be his wife."

Elijah straightens up after handing off a couple more candy canes. "Okay, indulge me."

"Well, look at the way they're standing with each other. Not coupley, at all."

"Maybe they've been married for a while." Elijah tries to subtly pick his wedgie. "You know? They're just..." His mouth screws up in concentration. "...comfortable like that."

Dominic turns his gaze to Santa and pouts. "I can look. There's no harm in looking." His eyes wander their naughty way back to the man on line, of their own accord. "Or thinking about bending him over Santa's sleigh, and..."

"Seriously!" his fellow elf hisses, giggling. "Chill the fuck out. You're wearing tights, man."

Leggings, Dominic wants to correct him, for the third time. But Elijah's right: it wouldn't exactly be good for business if a certain friend of his decided to make an appearance between his little green elfin thighs. His eyes trace the lines of the cute patron's pale little hands and he wonders, is there really something about this guy or has it just been so long since he's gotten any that he'll spring for anyone?--Literally and figuratively.

The little girl wrapped around the man's leg tugs on the bottom of his shirt. "Uncle Billy, the elf is staring at you," she says in a stage whisper.

As the woman with them, presumably her mother, chides, "Shh, don't point, sweetheart," Dominic quickly averts his eyes again, but not before taking the words Uncle Billy and happily tucking them in his pocket. "Good to know," he mutters to Elijah. He waits a few strategic moments and then looks at Uncle Billy again, their eyes meeting. Dominic almost does a full body jerk in place and immediately tries to look interested in his own feet. We have contact, he hears Elijah whisper, and he suddenly feels mortified, wishing he weren't in this ridiculous fucking costume, wishing he were just another customer, wearing his favorite pair of fitted jeans and a black tee. His cuffs. Maybe a bit of eyeliner. He wishes he could really give Uncle Billy something to stare back at.

Elijah clears his throat loudly and pinches the small of Dominic's back. "He's coming," he says quickly, before busying his hands with the tub of candy canes, pretending to organize them or count them.

Dominic glances up to see that Uncle Billy is indeed approaching the Candy Shop podium. He carries the same awkwardness as all the adults who've approached them since early this morning, an awkwardness that comes from not knowing how to interact with grown men dressed as Santa's Helpers.

"Hi," Uncle Billy smiles brightly, his hands shoved into his front pockets.

Dominic doesn't know what his face is doing, but he hopes it's smiling back.

"Ehm... sorry to bother you, but my niece and nephew are a bit restless."

Fuck, Dominic thinks, a shiver running up the back of his costume. Thatfuckingvoicefuckfuckfuck. He's so focused on how gorgeously the man's accent curls around the words niece and nephew that he doesn't even register the words themselves.

Uncle Billy scratches his arm, the corners of his mouth turning up in an unbearably charming smirk. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to occupy them. Would you?"

Dominic has to stop himself from responding, "Let me tongue-kiss your vocal cords first." He manages to say Sure before grabbing the candy cane tub from Elijah and unhooking two from the bunch. He offers them to Uncle Billy with a soft smile. "That should do it." And Dominic has never heard the words Thank you sound sexier than they do coming out of this man's mouth. He can't just let him stop talking. "Glasgow?" he quickly shoots at him.

Uncle Billy turns on his heel. "...Sorry?"

"Glasgow, right? Your accent."

"Yes," he smiles, raking his eyes over Dominic. "Good ear."

Good God. "So what brings you here?"

"We're on holiday. Me and my sister," he nods back in the direction of his family.

"Oh!," Dominic answers a little too enthusiastically. Elijah stifles a laugh. Dominic elbows him in the ribs. "You know," he pulls another candy cane from the barrel. "Your sister looks a bit restless, too." Billy accepts the third treat with a little laugh. "And, um." Dominic digs down to the bottom of the tub and procures a coveted full-size candy cane. "Your mouth looks like it could use some occupying, as well."

Elijah smacks a hand to his forehead, making his bells jingle again. "Oh my God."

Billy flushes, clearing his throat, and Dominic smiles triumphantly. "Thanks," he glances down at Dominic's nametag, "Crumpet." He nods at Elijah. "Snowball."

As he heads back toward his niece, who's been watching the whole scene with wide eyes, Elijah smacks Dominic on the shoulder. "You fucking tart," he squeaks.

"What did I tell you about using Brit-isms?" Dominic chides through clenched teeth as he smiles and waves at Billy's niece.

Elijah is beside himself. "I'm sorry, but that was tarty as fuck."

Dominic puts on an American accent. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, my Yankee friend." He takes a quick look around before diving into his rucksack under the Toy Shop worktable. He pulls out one of his business cards (Dominic Monaghan, Actor) and scribbles his mobile number on the back. "I've got a special message for Uncle Billy from Santa."