Fic: Reveal (1/3)
Apr. 8th, 2008 04:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eff_realityTitle: Reveal
Rating: PG-13 (thus far)
Pairing: monaboyd
Summary: Rings is long over, and Dom wants to know more about Billy. Funny texts, dirty e-mails, and drunken voicemails ensue. A welcome break from the angst.
Feedback: is my anti-drug. Help keep me off the pipe.
Note: This started as one of my GRE vocab ficlets for Monaboyd Month, but somehow just snowballed into this. The original prompt word was "ubiquitous," but it doesn't even really seem connected to the story now.
"So tell me something I don't know about you."
Billy sighs through a smile, his eyes blissfully shut. "Dom, it's fuckin' late here." He's been half-asleep, slurring "Yeh"s and "Uh-huh"s every few seconds for the last ten minutes of their conversation. They've done this many times. Dom seems to always call right when Billy's tucking himself in for the night. And Billy seems to always indulge him for a bit too long, sometimes sliding into a full-on REM cycle after a half-hour of Dom chewing his ear off.
"I know," Dom says with childlike guilt. "I just.. miss you. I feel like I learned something new about you every day during shooting. I miss that."
Billy's smile widens. "Is there really that much to learn about me?" His voice is sleepy and lodged in the back of his throat, but he's surprisingly coherent.
"Yeah," Dom insists. "You're a fascinating bugger, Billy Boyd." He chuckles to himself. " 'Bugger Billy Boyd.' Wasn't that the title of your porn film?"
Billy shakes his head, laughing despite himself. "I'm fuckin' tired, Dom. What do you wanna know?"
"Something I don't know. Anything. Doesn't matter how silly or insignificant. Go."
Behind Billy's eyelids, he can literally see Dom sitting in his kitchen with the phone against his ear, his right leg bouncing up and down. "Ehmmmm." He's drawing a blank. He just wants to sleep.
"Something from your childhood?" Dom prompts. "Adolescence? Surely your teen years are a treasure trove of mortifying wanking walk-in tales."
"Nice alliteration."
"I try. Go."
"Alright." Billy sighs. "When I was twelve, I was racing a friend after school. Skidded and fell. I skinned my knee, really bad. The skin came off, it was disgusting. I looked at my knee and it was gushing blood. It was so disgusting, I felt faint. And I got sick, I threw up in the street." He laughs a little. He can practically hear Dom smiling through the receiver. When he doesn't reply, Billy says loudly, "Goodnight, sweetheart!" and hangs up.
*
It becomes a thing. A tacit, mutual, understood thing, much like Dom and Billy's relationship itself.
The next day, Billy wakes to a text message from Dom, sent about two minutes after they'd hung up the night before. It reads, me too - but i was surfing and it was last month. Billy laughs loud and hard at that.
That night, Billy dials Dom's number and crawls into bed, already knowing the protocol.
"Hell-ooooooo?" Dom answers playfully, expectantly. There is considerable background noise.
Billy sounds matter-of-fact, almost monotonous. "When I'm alone, I talk to myself a lot. Make up songs. Typically about what I'm doing at the moment. Chores around the house. Sometimes the lyrics are just the grocery list for the week." Billy sings, "Sugar, sugar. Do-do-do-do-do-do. Oh honey, honey. Do-do-do-do-do-do." Dom's giggling. "Some milk and bananas tooooo.. and a box of oatmeal." He snaps his phone shut with a flourish.
*
Dom's e-mail the next day reads:
when wanking in the shower, i use conditioner. my tadger smells like coconuts til about 3 in the afternoon.
Billy lets out a loud cackle in front of his laptop. Then registers his amazement at Dom's lack of typos. He hits "Reply" and rests his chin on the heel of his hand, looking out the window. Four minutes pass. "Ah." Billy takes a sip of tea and reawakens the sleeping monitor, his fingers flying over the keys.
*
As the "reveals" (as Dom likes to call them - says it makes him feel like a spy) become more idiosyncratic, they also become more frequent. Billy learns at least three, sometimes four, or even five new things about Dom each day. Most of the reveals aren't surprising so much as amusing, but what does surprise Billy is that he never knew them until now. It feels like they're getting to know each other for the first time, all over again. Billy uses that as one of his reveals over the phone one night, and Dom lets out a happy little "Hm. Honeymoon Part Two," then hangs up.
The anticipation of the reveal, no matter how silly or insignificant it ends up being, is always fantastic. It often interferes with Billy's staunch routine, making him late for appointments and leaving him distracted during said appointments. It leaves him acting, well, a bit more like Dom.
He always takes his mobile. He always leaves it on the table during meals--even when they are business-related. Pretends Dom's texts are urgent messages, making sure to maintain a stern expression while he excuses himself from conversation to read them. Prepares himself mentally for the strong possibility of them being dirty.
He leaves his computer on all day, even when he's gone for most of it. It's always overheated and often frozen when he gets home. He immediately reboots it and checks his e-mail.
He's even taken to leaving the door open while he's showering, just in case Dom calls his land line and leaves a message on the machine. This has only proven to be actually worth it once. Dom's gravelly voice echoes through the hall, "Reveal of the day: Lately, I can't stop watching Spanish soap operas. I believe they're called telenovelas. Incredible." Billy wipes suds from his eyes, tilting his head in a useless but involuntary effort to hear better. "Also: my right hand smells an awful lot like coconuts today. That's two for the price of one." Click.
Billy is in hysterics as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. "Idiot," he says fondly.
*
Two and a half weeks after the first reveal, the factoids start to get a bit more personal and even girlishly sentimental. Billy blames himself. One Sunday he's feeling pretty lonely and quite his age as he sits in front of the computer sipping his morning tea. He rubs a hand over his eyes and moves the cursor to the body of the e-mail. He types slowly.
I still have dreams about New Zealand.
Waits a minute, then clicks "Send."
Fifteen minutes later, Billy's mobile rings. Dom sounds breathless when he picks up. "I just had one last night, man." Billy sends a nostalgic smile out his kitchen window.
Dom's off that day too, so they spend the next hour or so discussing their dreams, which inevitably turns into reminiscing about their waking time spent in New Zealand, which then turns into their billionth discussion of moving there for good however many years down the line. The stretch of time available to accomplish that move seems to have gotten so much shorter lately, Billy thinks. He feels old again. Decides that'll be his Monday reveal.
But before he can text the words i feel old to Dom the next morning, a new message prompt appears on his mobile screen.
we're getting really bloody old. when did that happen?
*
Disappointed isn't even the word to describe Billy when Dom misses a day. A whole day without a single Dom reveal! He had left a voicemail for Dom around lunchtime admitting that he sometimes reads fanfiction about himself. Not only had Billy been considerate with his reveal, giving it by phone, which he and Dom had agreed to be the best form of reveal--he had been generous too, his reveal far too embarrassing to possibly ignore.
By seven in the evening, Billy finds himself twitching like a junkie, which reminds him of Charlie Pace, which of course reminds him of Dom, which makes him more twitchy. He practically shoves himself into bed that night, lifting his mobile off the dresser to check it one last time before slamming it back down, incredulous. Billy thinks better of it, picks up his mobile and sends his first text of the day:
how dare you have a life? the people demand a monaghan reveal!
After about half an hour, Billy is finally able to fall asleep.
At around 4:40am, his mobile rings, sending a beam of light up toward the ceiling. Billy turns to the dresser, one eye clenched shut and the other squinting at the screen. He doesn't pick up. "Fuckin' bastard," he smiles, turning over and going back to sleep.
*
The next morning, Billy is listening to his voicemail before he has even stretched or pushed off the covers.
"Biiiiiiiii-lleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Dom shouts into the phone. He's completely pissed. Billy gives a sleepy little laugh, his eyes closed. "BillyBillyBillyBillyBilly. BILLY! Why aren't you picking up, you pathetic piece of shiteIKNOWYOU'RETHERE! You're curled up in your jammies under the covers, all warm and toasty like a wee baby!" On 'wee baby,' Dom does his best imitation of Billy, which is spot-on with the help of the alcohol. "And you're staring at the phone with a big scowl on your face because I didn't respond to your reveal ALL DAY I'M SUCH A BASTARD, AREN'T I?!" Dom's voice moves further away as he proceeds to ask everyone he's with for confirmation that he's a bastard. He returns his attention to the task at hand, thankfully. "ANYWAY! Bill. BillyBillyBilly. My favorite. I am a bastard, as these good people can attest. And I am sorry I didn't call. I'm sorry I didn't write. I'm SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO sorry. I'm a shite. I really am." Dom takes a big audible gulp of something. "Mmm Guinness. Lifeblood." Dom brings his mouth close to the phone, achieving a tone that's as intimate as it is amusing. "I miss you. I really, really do. It's like I'm missing... my big toe. Or something equally vital. It's quite unnerving, really. WOULD YOU FUCKIN' STOP TALKING TO ME, I'M TALKING TO MY FRIE--" The message ends abruptly after what sounds like a physical struggle.
Billy laughs, shaking his head. He saves that message and moves on to the second. Because, of course, there is a second.
"FUCK Billy, I am SORRY about that. I'm sorry I hang out with FUCKIN' YANKEE WANKERS who don't RESPECT THEIR FRIENDS WHEN THEY'RE ON THE PHONE!" Dom clears his throat. "Anyway. Before I get cut off again, I just wanted to say I'm sorry again for not calling until now--shooting was just insane today, man, I couldn't get away, I really couldn't, not even for a minute. So that's why I couldn't. Now! Onto the reveals. 'Did he just say REVEALS-ah?' Yes, Billy. Yes, I did say REVEALS-ah. As in plural. You're getting two tonight. This morning. Whatever. Because you're so adorable. And because I'm a bastard. Okay. Reveal number one. DRUMROLL PLEASE!" Dom pauses for dramatic effect. "I read fanfiction about me too! In fact, I'm pretty addicted to it. It's sickening, really. But there's something so intriguing about getting a window into how people who don't know you at all see you. How they think you behave in the bedroom, so to speak." Dom's voice has gotten playful. Billy can see what his eyes and his hands must have looked like as he was speaking these words into his phone earlier that morning. "So yes. I read fanfiction about myself too. But I'm sure you're not surprised by that. SECOND REVEAL!" Dom lowers his voice, obviously smiling into the receiver. "I read fanfiction about you, too." Billy's eyes fly open. "Goodnight, sweetheart," Dom drawls. Then hangs up.
Billy replays the second message twice, then saves it.
*
Two hours later, he still can't stop thinking about it. And he still hasn't responded with a reveal of his own.
But how can he be expected to call Dom and state a fact when all he has now are questions? Questions that he can't even ask because they'd all inevitably lead to the most awkward conversation in the history of awkward conversations.
Awkward conversation? With Dom? When did that become a possibility? How did Billy get here?
Billy finally decides that he has two options:
1) Make his next reveal in no way personal, sentimental, or sexual. Something lighthearted and quirky that will stymie any potentially awkward conversations and get his and Dom's sometimes inappropriate but safe banter back on track. Something along the lines of, "I used to think babies were born from a woman's bellybutton." (Sad but true.)
2) Forge ahead with this game Dom has started and try to one-up the fanfiction reveal. See if Dom backs off or takes the bait and tries to one-up Billy in return.
After twenty minutes of deliberation, Billy goes with the first option, deciding they'll both be better off. (Nevermind the fact that Billy is terrified of what else Dom might reveal, or even worse: what he himself might be forced to reveal.) He e-mails Dom the bellybutton thing and an Apology accepted, asshole.
Forty-five minutes later, a reply appears in Billy's inbox. It reads:
aww. i'm still your favorite, aren't i?
reveal of the day.........
Billy has to hit "Enter" about fifty times in order to read:
i read a story last night where you were a lumberjack and i was your apprentice. you tied me to a tree and showed me "just how hard your line of work is."
the dialogue was shite, but the sex was great.
Billy's kidney is in his throat. His first thought is: Well. That answers that question.
His second is: This is getting dangerous.
*
That night, after three beers, Billy thinks he's gotten up the courage for his first truly interesting reveal. That is, if text messaging can be considered courageous.
But even more than courageous, Billy feels vengeful. He hates that Dom has the ability to make him feel so unnerved, lightheaded, completely distracted, and utterly confused. He hates that Dom has singlehandedly raised the stakes behind all of their interactions, maybe permanently. He needs to regain his control. He needs to freak Dom out. And he doesn't care what he has to confess in order to do it.
He flips the top of his mobile so it lays open next to the three empty beer bottles. Billy narrows his eyes, staring at the empty text box. He takes a deep breath and raises his fingers. Time to attack.
the night before i left nz, when you stayed over.. i held you in your sleep.
Billy closes his eyes and presses "Send."
Five minutes later, his phone beeps with a text notification.
i know. i was awake.
Billy's hands shake as he flips the phone shut. Well, that backfired nicely.
Part Two
Rating: PG-13 (thus far)
Pairing: monaboyd
Summary: Rings is long over, and Dom wants to know more about Billy. Funny texts, dirty e-mails, and drunken voicemails ensue. A welcome break from the angst.
Feedback: is my anti-drug. Help keep me off the pipe.
Note: This started as one of my GRE vocab ficlets for Monaboyd Month, but somehow just snowballed into this. The original prompt word was "ubiquitous," but it doesn't even really seem connected to the story now.
"So tell me something I don't know about you."
Billy sighs through a smile, his eyes blissfully shut. "Dom, it's fuckin' late here." He's been half-asleep, slurring "Yeh"s and "Uh-huh"s every few seconds for the last ten minutes of their conversation. They've done this many times. Dom seems to always call right when Billy's tucking himself in for the night. And Billy seems to always indulge him for a bit too long, sometimes sliding into a full-on REM cycle after a half-hour of Dom chewing his ear off.
"I know," Dom says with childlike guilt. "I just.. miss you. I feel like I learned something new about you every day during shooting. I miss that."
Billy's smile widens. "Is there really that much to learn about me?" His voice is sleepy and lodged in the back of his throat, but he's surprisingly coherent.
"Yeah," Dom insists. "You're a fascinating bugger, Billy Boyd." He chuckles to himself. " 'Bugger Billy Boyd.' Wasn't that the title of your porn film?"
Billy shakes his head, laughing despite himself. "I'm fuckin' tired, Dom. What do you wanna know?"
"Something I don't know. Anything. Doesn't matter how silly or insignificant. Go."
Behind Billy's eyelids, he can literally see Dom sitting in his kitchen with the phone against his ear, his right leg bouncing up and down. "Ehmmmm." He's drawing a blank. He just wants to sleep.
"Something from your childhood?" Dom prompts. "Adolescence? Surely your teen years are a treasure trove of mortifying wanking walk-in tales."
"Nice alliteration."
"I try. Go."
"Alright." Billy sighs. "When I was twelve, I was racing a friend after school. Skidded and fell. I skinned my knee, really bad. The skin came off, it was disgusting. I looked at my knee and it was gushing blood. It was so disgusting, I felt faint. And I got sick, I threw up in the street." He laughs a little. He can practically hear Dom smiling through the receiver. When he doesn't reply, Billy says loudly, "Goodnight, sweetheart!" and hangs up.
*
It becomes a thing. A tacit, mutual, understood thing, much like Dom and Billy's relationship itself.
The next day, Billy wakes to a text message from Dom, sent about two minutes after they'd hung up the night before. It reads, me too - but i was surfing and it was last month. Billy laughs loud and hard at that.
That night, Billy dials Dom's number and crawls into bed, already knowing the protocol.
"Hell-ooooooo?" Dom answers playfully, expectantly. There is considerable background noise.
Billy sounds matter-of-fact, almost monotonous. "When I'm alone, I talk to myself a lot. Make up songs. Typically about what I'm doing at the moment. Chores around the house. Sometimes the lyrics are just the grocery list for the week." Billy sings, "Sugar, sugar. Do-do-do-do-do-do. Oh honey, honey. Do-do-do-do-do-do." Dom's giggling. "Some milk and bananas tooooo.. and a box of oatmeal." He snaps his phone shut with a flourish.
*
Dom's e-mail the next day reads:
when wanking in the shower, i use conditioner. my tadger smells like coconuts til about 3 in the afternoon.
Billy lets out a loud cackle in front of his laptop. Then registers his amazement at Dom's lack of typos. He hits "Reply" and rests his chin on the heel of his hand, looking out the window. Four minutes pass. "Ah." Billy takes a sip of tea and reawakens the sleeping monitor, his fingers flying over the keys.
*
As the "reveals" (as Dom likes to call them - says it makes him feel like a spy) become more idiosyncratic, they also become more frequent. Billy learns at least three, sometimes four, or even five new things about Dom each day. Most of the reveals aren't surprising so much as amusing, but what does surprise Billy is that he never knew them until now. It feels like they're getting to know each other for the first time, all over again. Billy uses that as one of his reveals over the phone one night, and Dom lets out a happy little "Hm. Honeymoon Part Two," then hangs up.
The anticipation of the reveal, no matter how silly or insignificant it ends up being, is always fantastic. It often interferes with Billy's staunch routine, making him late for appointments and leaving him distracted during said appointments. It leaves him acting, well, a bit more like Dom.
He always takes his mobile. He always leaves it on the table during meals--even when they are business-related. Pretends Dom's texts are urgent messages, making sure to maintain a stern expression while he excuses himself from conversation to read them. Prepares himself mentally for the strong possibility of them being dirty.
He leaves his computer on all day, even when he's gone for most of it. It's always overheated and often frozen when he gets home. He immediately reboots it and checks his e-mail.
He's even taken to leaving the door open while he's showering, just in case Dom calls his land line and leaves a message on the machine. This has only proven to be actually worth it once. Dom's gravelly voice echoes through the hall, "Reveal of the day: Lately, I can't stop watching Spanish soap operas. I believe they're called telenovelas. Incredible." Billy wipes suds from his eyes, tilting his head in a useless but involuntary effort to hear better. "Also: my right hand smells an awful lot like coconuts today. That's two for the price of one." Click.
Billy is in hysterics as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. "Idiot," he says fondly.
*
Two and a half weeks after the first reveal, the factoids start to get a bit more personal and even girlishly sentimental. Billy blames himself. One Sunday he's feeling pretty lonely and quite his age as he sits in front of the computer sipping his morning tea. He rubs a hand over his eyes and moves the cursor to the body of the e-mail. He types slowly.
I still have dreams about New Zealand.
Waits a minute, then clicks "Send."
Fifteen minutes later, Billy's mobile rings. Dom sounds breathless when he picks up. "I just had one last night, man." Billy sends a nostalgic smile out his kitchen window.
Dom's off that day too, so they spend the next hour or so discussing their dreams, which inevitably turns into reminiscing about their waking time spent in New Zealand, which then turns into their billionth discussion of moving there for good however many years down the line. The stretch of time available to accomplish that move seems to have gotten so much shorter lately, Billy thinks. He feels old again. Decides that'll be his Monday reveal.
But before he can text the words i feel old to Dom the next morning, a new message prompt appears on his mobile screen.
we're getting really bloody old. when did that happen?
*
Disappointed isn't even the word to describe Billy when Dom misses a day. A whole day without a single Dom reveal! He had left a voicemail for Dom around lunchtime admitting that he sometimes reads fanfiction about himself. Not only had Billy been considerate with his reveal, giving it by phone, which he and Dom had agreed to be the best form of reveal--he had been generous too, his reveal far too embarrassing to possibly ignore.
By seven in the evening, Billy finds himself twitching like a junkie, which reminds him of Charlie Pace, which of course reminds him of Dom, which makes him more twitchy. He practically shoves himself into bed that night, lifting his mobile off the dresser to check it one last time before slamming it back down, incredulous. Billy thinks better of it, picks up his mobile and sends his first text of the day:
how dare you have a life? the people demand a monaghan reveal!
After about half an hour, Billy is finally able to fall asleep.
At around 4:40am, his mobile rings, sending a beam of light up toward the ceiling. Billy turns to the dresser, one eye clenched shut and the other squinting at the screen. He doesn't pick up. "Fuckin' bastard," he smiles, turning over and going back to sleep.
*
The next morning, Billy is listening to his voicemail before he has even stretched or pushed off the covers.
"Biiiiiiiii-lleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Dom shouts into the phone. He's completely pissed. Billy gives a sleepy little laugh, his eyes closed. "BillyBillyBillyBillyBilly. BILLY! Why aren't you picking up, you pathetic piece of shiteIKNOWYOU'RETHERE! You're curled up in your jammies under the covers, all warm and toasty like a wee baby!" On 'wee baby,' Dom does his best imitation of Billy, which is spot-on with the help of the alcohol. "And you're staring at the phone with a big scowl on your face because I didn't respond to your reveal ALL DAY I'M SUCH A BASTARD, AREN'T I?!" Dom's voice moves further away as he proceeds to ask everyone he's with for confirmation that he's a bastard. He returns his attention to the task at hand, thankfully. "ANYWAY! Bill. BillyBillyBilly. My favorite. I am a bastard, as these good people can attest. And I am sorry I didn't call. I'm sorry I didn't write. I'm SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO sorry. I'm a shite. I really am." Dom takes a big audible gulp of something. "Mmm Guinness. Lifeblood." Dom brings his mouth close to the phone, achieving a tone that's as intimate as it is amusing. "I miss you. I really, really do. It's like I'm missing... my big toe. Or something equally vital. It's quite unnerving, really. WOULD YOU FUCKIN' STOP TALKING TO ME, I'M TALKING TO MY FRIE--" The message ends abruptly after what sounds like a physical struggle.
Billy laughs, shaking his head. He saves that message and moves on to the second. Because, of course, there is a second.
"FUCK Billy, I am SORRY about that. I'm sorry I hang out with FUCKIN' YANKEE WANKERS who don't RESPECT THEIR FRIENDS WHEN THEY'RE ON THE PHONE!" Dom clears his throat. "Anyway. Before I get cut off again, I just wanted to say I'm sorry again for not calling until now--shooting was just insane today, man, I couldn't get away, I really couldn't, not even for a minute. So that's why I couldn't. Now! Onto the reveals. 'Did he just say REVEALS-ah?' Yes, Billy. Yes, I did say REVEALS-ah. As in plural. You're getting two tonight. This morning. Whatever. Because you're so adorable. And because I'm a bastard. Okay. Reveal number one. DRUMROLL PLEASE!" Dom pauses for dramatic effect. "I read fanfiction about me too! In fact, I'm pretty addicted to it. It's sickening, really. But there's something so intriguing about getting a window into how people who don't know you at all see you. How they think you behave in the bedroom, so to speak." Dom's voice has gotten playful. Billy can see what his eyes and his hands must have looked like as he was speaking these words into his phone earlier that morning. "So yes. I read fanfiction about myself too. But I'm sure you're not surprised by that. SECOND REVEAL!" Dom lowers his voice, obviously smiling into the receiver. "I read fanfiction about you, too." Billy's eyes fly open. "Goodnight, sweetheart," Dom drawls. Then hangs up.
Billy replays the second message twice, then saves it.
*
Two hours later, he still can't stop thinking about it. And he still hasn't responded with a reveal of his own.
But how can he be expected to call Dom and state a fact when all he has now are questions? Questions that he can't even ask because they'd all inevitably lead to the most awkward conversation in the history of awkward conversations.
Awkward conversation? With Dom? When did that become a possibility? How did Billy get here?
Billy finally decides that he has two options:
1) Make his next reveal in no way personal, sentimental, or sexual. Something lighthearted and quirky that will stymie any potentially awkward conversations and get his and Dom's sometimes inappropriate but safe banter back on track. Something along the lines of, "I used to think babies were born from a woman's bellybutton." (Sad but true.)
2) Forge ahead with this game Dom has started and try to one-up the fanfiction reveal. See if Dom backs off or takes the bait and tries to one-up Billy in return.
After twenty minutes of deliberation, Billy goes with the first option, deciding they'll both be better off. (Nevermind the fact that Billy is terrified of what else Dom might reveal, or even worse: what he himself might be forced to reveal.) He e-mails Dom the bellybutton thing and an Apology accepted, asshole.
Forty-five minutes later, a reply appears in Billy's inbox. It reads:
aww. i'm still your favorite, aren't i?
reveal of the day.........
Billy has to hit "Enter" about fifty times in order to read:
i read a story last night where you were a lumberjack and i was your apprentice. you tied me to a tree and showed me "just how hard your line of work is."
the dialogue was shite, but the sex was great.
Billy's kidney is in his throat. His first thought is: Well. That answers that question.
His second is: This is getting dangerous.
*
That night, after three beers, Billy thinks he's gotten up the courage for his first truly interesting reveal. That is, if text messaging can be considered courageous.
But even more than courageous, Billy feels vengeful. He hates that Dom has the ability to make him feel so unnerved, lightheaded, completely distracted, and utterly confused. He hates that Dom has singlehandedly raised the stakes behind all of their interactions, maybe permanently. He needs to regain his control. He needs to freak Dom out. And he doesn't care what he has to confess in order to do it.
He flips the top of his mobile so it lays open next to the three empty beer bottles. Billy narrows his eyes, staring at the empty text box. He takes a deep breath and raises his fingers. Time to attack.
the night before i left nz, when you stayed over.. i held you in your sleep.
Billy closes his eyes and presses "Send."
Five minutes later, his phone beeps with a text notification.
i know. i was awake.
Billy's hands shake as he flips the phone shut. Well, that backfired nicely.
*Lyrics: "Sugar, Sugar" by The Archies
Part Two
