Work Text:
AU "Almost Blinded By It", part 4/7 of the Sniper Sight universe.
"Billy Boyd," Dom says, and there's the weight of years of separation and more years of friendship behind the name.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Billy laughs as they fall on each other, hugging and wrestling and trying not to feel the burn behind their eyes.
"Nah, man. I started calling myself Dominic Monaghan," Dom says, pushing Billy off enough to get a proper look at him. "It's really you."
"Aye, well, there's a thousand Scots hit men called Billy Boyd working this stretch of the country," Billy teases. "I could'ah been anyone. What abou' you though? I thought I was meetin' a deal maker, not a bloody pimp."
Dom makes a show of smoothing his suit jacket and his silk tie.
"You have no eye for appearances, Bills, you never had."
"Yeh're losin' yer hair."
"You're losin' your accent."
"Fuck you. Come on an' meet the rest ah the firm."
They drape their arms around each other's shoulders, and make their way off-step and awkward across the street to where Elijah and Orlando are sitting at a sidewalk café table for four. The afternoon is warm but hazy, and they're the only two patrons wearing dark shades.
"Lads," Billy says, breathless with pride, "this over-dressed under-educated pair ah brass ones is my good friend and ex-girlfriend, Dom Monaghan."
Dom laughs and shoves Billy off.
"Dom, this is Elijah."
"Elijah," Dom says, the edge of laughter in his voice rounding into something weightier.
"Pleased to meet you, man," Elijah says, ditching his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray in order to shake Dom's hand.
"And this is Orlando," Billy supplies, when Dom shifts his attention across the table.
Dom blinks. Orlando lifts his chin fractionally; it's an unconscious gesture he makes when he realizes someone must be looking specifically at him.
"Hello," Dom says, leaning over the table a little to offer Orlando his hand.
Orlando's hands remain where they are, his long tanned fingers wrapped around the rim of the thick white coffee cup in front of him.
"You're not – you don't - " Dom founders, his gaze darting from Orlando's shades to Elijah's and back.
"Handshake," Elijah says under Dom's confusion. He reaches out and takes hold of Orlando's right wrist, lifting Orlando's hand away from the cup.
"Oh, sorry," Orlando says, his pale narrow lips stretching into a wide grin.
Dom's heart lurches and staggers in his chest.
"Orlando's - " Billy begins quietly.
" – stone blind," Orlando says, flailing his hand comically around as if trying to find Dom's. "So help me out here, yeah?"
Dom manages a shaky laugh, and when Orlando stops messing about and just extends his hand, Dom leans in further and takes hold of it for a brief moment.
"But I'm not fatal, if that's what you were wondering," Orlando says.
He snags his fingers on the nose piece of his shades and pulls them down, smiling again so that the corners of his eyes crinkle up. His irises, indifferent to even the brightest light, are almost completely dilated out, so that only a narrow margin of deep brown surrounds the huge black pools of his pupils.
"No, you're not, are you?" Dom says, and his tone's off enough that Elijah glances at Billy and Billy can't look at Elijah for fear of laughing. And Dom's at least distantly aware of their reaction, but he doesn't care that he couldn't quite carry it off, because it's got to be the biggest lie he's ever told.
Cut.
"Jesus, he's something," Dom says, rubbing his hipbone meditatively against the edge of the kitchen sink as he stares out of the window at Orlando and Elijah sitting on the same recliner by the side of the pool, heads together in close conversation. "Isn't he something, Bills?"
"Who? Orlando?" Billy asks, coming from the refrigerator with a fresh six pack in hand to crane over Dom's shoulder and look too, as if anyone else could be on the pool terrace. "Aye, he's a decent fella all right. Elijah's very fond of him."
"Decent?" Dom says, so outraged that he tears his gaze away from Orlando to gape at Billy in disbelief. "I suppose you think the Koh i Noor is a bit shiny."
"I suppose he's not bad lookin'," Billy shrugs, though he can't quite control the quirk of his mouth. "Bit tall, though."
Dom snorts in disgust, and Billy laughs.
"God. Does he even know he looks like that?" Dom asks abruptly.
"I suppose. He's not been blind all that long, y'know – 'bout six years, I think."
"Jesus. What happened?"
"Horsing around at a party, fell out an upstairs window, split his skull open. Did in whatever bit ah yer brain it is that has teh do wi' seeing."
Dom turns his head, looking at Billy with stricken eyes. Billy shrugs.
"Aye. Well, like he says himself, he could ah broken his bloody back, so it's not that bad really."
They both look out the window again.
"So, wait a sec," Billy says after a minute. "If yeh like him so much, how come he's out there an' you're in here looking at him through the blinkin' window? It's alright; he's not interested in girls, y'know."
Dom shrugs elaborately.
"I don't – it's not – I'm not - " Dom fumbles, his brows gathering into an increasingly tense frown and his ears turning pink. "I don't – bugger – I don't know how to get him, Bills. You know, I've always gotten along on me looks. I mean, I do have a great personality, obviously; I'm funny, I'm smart, I'm a very interestin' person. But really, it's about the looks. I'm dead sexy looking, Bills, you have to admit."
Billy looks at Dom, but makes no comment.
"An', he can't even see me," Dom goes on. "For all he knows, I could be just ordinary. Hell, I could be downright ugly. I won't deny it, Bills; I'm at a loss. How do I get a bloke like that without my good looks?"
Dom looks at Billy, and abruptly his expression brightens.
"Here. How do you get blokes, Billy?"
Billy shoves his tongue into his cheek on the side that's not facing towards Dom while he considers this for a minute.
"Well," he says at last. "The thing you hafta remember about Orlando, Dom," he says with the kind of gravity that would probably arouse Dom's suspicions if he were thinking at all clearly, "is that, although he may joke about it, he's really very sensitive about bein' blind. He's very … vulnerable. It's very easy for people to crowd him, y'know? To sort ah scare him off."
"Really? Shit. He doesn't act like that, does he? I mean, he seems so … confident."
"Oh aye, but that's jus' his way of covering up how very - timid - he is. Aye. Timid. He's timid, is Orlando."
"God."
"Oh aye. Very easily startled," Billy says, warming to his theme. "So, when you come in teh a room wi' him, you should be very quiet, and not say anythin' for a few minutes."
"Are you sure? I notice you and Elijah always say something to him as soon as you walk up to him."
"Oh, well, aye, but then … he's used teh us, y'know. But he's not used to you, so you should go quiet around him fer a while."
"Okay, okay. So, I guess, quiet and slow with any mention of … y'know … sex."
"Oh God don't mention sex to him," Billy says hastily. "Don't mention it. Don't let him know you're thinking along those lines a'tall. No no. Very slow, Dommie, very slow."
Dom swallows hard, heaving a deep sigh, and frowning. He stares out of the window. Orlando, still next to Elijah on the recliner, leans back until he's propped on his elbows, head dropped back so that the long line of his throat is pulled taut as a graceful pen-stroke.
"I can do that," Dom says with steely determination. "I can do that."
"Oh good," Billy says with great satisfaction.
Cut.
"What else?" Orlando asks lazily, lifting one bare foot to rub his sole against the recliner's frame.
"He's pretty built," Elijah says. "I mean, he's only like an inch or two taller than Billy, but he's stacked. Probably weighs like, hundred and sixty, hundred and seventy."
Orlando nods, pulling his lower lip in his teeth until it reddens.
"Nice. Hundred and sixty, about five seven, yeah? Fuck," he says. "He smells great, man."
Elijah laughs.
"I mean it," Orlando says. "The way he smells … fuckin' twists my balls, man. Bet he's got a great arse. Muscular, y'know?"
"Okay, I already have a boyfriend," Elijah howls, "I can't listen to this."
"Really tight," Orlando goes on, laughing, despite Elijah shoving him with his foot. "Bet he can crack nuts with it."
"Jesus! You're a fucking animal, man."
"Gonna fuck 'im blind," Orlando snorts.
Cut.