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Dom smelled like coconut shampoo and something sharp and spicy, aftershave maybe, and laundry detergent and new car, since his rental hadn’t worn it out yet. Mostly though, he smelled a whole lot like sex.
Billy squirmed uncomfortably, his arse wedged between Dom’s dead fucking weight and the edge of the bureau. The front of his trousers were damp with come, and the back of Dom’s t-shirt was damp with sweat, and Billy’s mouth felt used and fabulous, and a droplet of sweat trickled down his own neck until it was… oh jesus, licked back up by Dom’s tongue, his dragon breath and his teeth finding Billy’s earlobe.
“Billy,” Dom breathed.
“Yeah.”
“Uh.”
“Yeah,” Billy agreed. Because really, ten minutes or so ago, he and Dom had come into Dom’s room to find a specific CD to take back out to the party (right the fuck down the hall). Five minutes ago, a recurring debate about the White Album led to a tickling battle, and three minutes ago, Dom had Billy pinned to the bureau and there was suddenly kissing and moaning and fighting and yanking and pushing and pulling and gasping and coming. Billy really fucking hoped that last bit wasn’t one sided, because if so, this was about to get a whole lot more embarrassing.
Dom peeled them apart, still breathing quite hard. His eyes darted up for hardly a second before dropping to… Billy’s trousers. “Fuck, mate, that’s...”
Billy squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed around his own breath. “Don’t even say anything Dominic, please just… Ah! Christ Jesus, Dommeh, don’t….”
Dom’s hand was actually palming over the mess, and Billy could not have felt more humiliated and violated and wanted and fucked if his cock didn’t try really hard to produce a miracle.
And then the hand and the radiating warmth were gone, and Billy’s eyes popped open to find Dom sat on the bed, fingers twisting madly around each other. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” Billy scrubbed both hands through his sweaty hair and sat gingerly near Dom on the mattress. Not too near.
“What the fuck do we do now?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
Dom flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling, and Billy’ eyes were invariably drawn to his crotch. So it had been quite a mutual thing after all. Billy’s soaked mind wondered what sorts of other things could be mutual with Dom.
Dom abruptly jumped from the bed and stripped his damp jeans right off, paying no never mind to Billy’s dilemma. And Dom’s arse was just… right there, because Dom never did wear pants. The bastard.
“Take off your jeans, Billy.”
“Eh?” Billy swallowed his tongue and tried to keep his eyes fastened resolutely to Dom’s face, because fuck, this was all well and good, but Billy’d need a good hour or so before…
“We’re going to catch so much hell from them if they find out,” Dom told him, rifling through the drawers. Drawers they’d just rubbed off against, until they both came. In their jeans, for fuck’s sake.
Dom threw a pair of jeans at Billy, stepping into a clean pair himself, “Those look enough like yours. They won’t notice.”
“Oi!” Orlando’s voice came from down the hall, “Did you guys get lost?”
Billy scrambled the nearest and biggest book from Dom’s bedside table and opened it wide over his lap, pretending to read as Dom dropped back to the CD binder on the floor.
Orlando appeared at the door, “I’m holding you personally accountable for the weird shite Elijah wants us to listen to. Thought you said you had something he’s never heard?”
“Queens of the Stone Age,” Dom said, tossing one binder down and gabbing another. “Coming up, I just… ah… didn’t put it back in the right binder… or something.”
“Well, hurry it up. He’s putting in something Swedish, and it’s not Abba.” Orli grumbled, his brows narrowing, “What’re you reading, Bill?”
“Erm,” Billy blinked at the page of ragged ballpoint writing and messy doodles.
“Is that Dom’s diary?”
Dom’s head whipped around and met Billy’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Billy lifted his chin at the elf, “Says here, ‘Billy’s really amazing. Most amazing mate I’ve ever had. If he were a woman, I’d marry him.’”
“Yeah?” Orli challenged, “What’s it say about me, then?”
Billy turned the exploratory page backward, and another. “Not much actually, it’s mostly about me. Oh, here, he says you look barmy in tights.”
“Cunt. He’ll come around.” Orlando threw Dom a dirty look and left the way he came.
Dom’s ears were a really brilliant shade of fuchsia as he flipped the pages of his CD binder, and Billy changed into Dom’s jeans, which fitted him well, if a little loose and long. Comfy.
Dom caught the light with the CD, shining the reflection on Billy’s face. Dom had never looked quite so nervous and terrified and giddy and hopeful, all at once. “It’s quite rude to read a mate’s journal without permission, you know.”
“Mmm. It’s very polite to share your trousers with him, though.”
Dom’s grin crooked sideways, and he ambled a bit closer, and maybe a little closer still, which in a small bedroom was a bit more-than-mates close.
“We could tell them the exact truth, with sordid details, and they’d think we were working them over,” Billy murmured, biting his lip against a grin.
“They would, wouldn’t they?” Dom leaned very, very close, pressing his mouth against a shivery place on Billy’s jaw.
“They won’t suspect a thing.”