Notes: Mainly inspired by this quote:

So are the hobbits gay?

"Sure, why not?" quips the hunky hobbit Dominic Monaghan, 26. "We did everything together. We even showered together," indicating his co-hobbit, the impish Scottish comedian Billy Boyd, 34.

"Oh! Why did you have to go and tell them that?" moans Boyd, (Pippin) putting his head in his heads. "We did once, but I like to keep to try to keep it in the back of my mind."

*****

Billy tried not to moan as he slumped forward, resting his forehead against the shower wall as he let the water run down his back. He could feel the thick goop shifting in his hair, waiting for the perfect moment to dislodge and leave another grimy track down his body.

This was all-- well, he wasn’t sure whose fault it was since he didn’t know whose idea it had been: Orlando, Dominic or Elijah’s. Fuck it, he’d just blame them all. They were all responsible for coercing him into ‘playing’.

Not that it had been difficult for them.

Billy groaned as he twisted round and slid down the wall to sit with a thump. Why the hell couldn’t he be the sensible-mature person instead of Sean? Then he would have gracefully declined when asked to play paintball - *homemade* paintball – and wouldn’t have ended up feeling like an unfortunate extra from Bugsy Malone.

Water balloons and a different colour for each ‘people’ was the brilliant idea – great for competitiveness and to see who had won at the end. Or that had been the plan at least. Billy had found himself covered in as much ‘Shire-Yellow’ as anything else. And he was finding that when water was added, it all mixed together to become a delightful muddy brown, but didn’t actually want to come off.

He dimly registered the ‘click’ of the bathroom door, and shivered as goose pimples prickled up his legs due to the cold breeze that slipped through with-

"Dominic?"

Billy blinked stupidly up at the cheerfully grinning face of his friend. Who was naked. And in his shower. The why of this was important, so of course he asked, "Why are your hands pink?"

"A bitter dispute with David regarding Rohan versus Gondor." Dominic shook his head sadly. "Sorry, Pip, Gondor has been annihilated."

"Although Rohan apparently has no hands." Billy drew his knees up to his chest, in a vague attempt at modesty.

"It was a slightly kamikaze mission," Dominic admitted.

"Can something be ‘slightly’ kamikaze? Surely you’re either running into something or you’re not." Billy’s brain was frantically trying to process this situation into something logical but failing since, obviously, it wasn’t. Logical. "And weren’t you the Shire?"

"Karl gave me some of his balloons to defend Théoden’s honour."

Ah. "What are you doing in here, Dom?"

"Lij is in the other shower," Dominic stated, like that was supposed to make everything make sense. The confusion must have been obvious on Billy’s face however since he elaborated, "You know he’d be a bitch about sharing the hot water."

"And you couldn’t wait because…?"

"My hands were getting weird and tingly." Dominic scratched at one pink palm with a frown. "I think the paint’s cutting off the circulation or oxygen or something."

The question ‘And a sink wouldn’t do?’ flitted across Billy’s mind but was lost before he could vocalise it as he realised the swirls of paint and water were rising dangerously high in the cubicle.

Shit, that would be because he was sitting on the drain.

He struggled awkwardly to his feet, keenly aware of where he was moving in relation to Dominic’s presence. Had this shower always been this small?

"Not like we haven’t done it before anyway," Dominic said, still experimentally flexing his hands.

Huh? The train of conversation had apparently departed while Billy was looking the other way.

"We always shower together at the gym."

Oh, right. "It’s not really this… cramped at the gym, Dom."

"And you know Merry and Pippin have been having baths together all their lives. Don’t think of it as being squashed in the shower, Billy, think of it as staying in character. Very Viggo."

Dominic reached over him to push the showerhead to one side so it wasn’t aiming water directly into his face anymore, all the time looking Billy over appraisingly. "In fact, you look like a piece of Viggo-art."

He leaned right into Billy’s face.

Billy thought he backed away, only to realise he hadn’t moved at all.

He should move away, he thought as Dominic’s breath washed over his face. He was just about to move when Dominic’s hand came up to his cheek and his thumb brushed over Billy’s eyelashes, and he couldn’t move then, wouldn’t want to startle Dominic and earn an accidental poke in the eye.

Dominic’s voice was the slow and husky cadence of Viggo’s as he murmured, "I’d title you ‘The green-eyed monster’." He pulled back with a low laugh to show Billy the flakes of paint he’d brushed from around his eyes, ‘Elf-Green’ melting into the ‘Gondor-Pink’. "Soap?"

Billy blinked stupidly at Dominic. Again. Viggo-art was fitting, he thought, since this had the surreal tint he associated with the other actor’s creations. But then, normality had had a tenuous grip on all their lives since they’d become involved in Lord of the Rings anyway.

"Soap?" Dominic prompted again and this time the request registered with Billy. He looked in disgust at the dirty bar Billy handed him with an unapologetic shrug.

Dominic slowly worked it over his hands, failing to build up a lather but continuing to rub it between his fingers, using the edge to scrape the paint off as much as anything. "When you were a kid, did you ever have that crayon-soap stuff? You could draw all over yourself with it but somehow, in theory at least, it still made you clean."

"No, but I did have gunge-soap. It was like Play-Doh that made you clean."

"Kids get all the cool stuff," Dominic muttered as he stepped closer to Billy, scooping dollops of paint from his friend’s matted hair. He grinned as Billy lifted his hands to Dominic’s head to return the favour.

Billy’s Scottish lilt disappeared in favour of his ‘documentary voice’. "And here we have two males of the species, both in their prime, engaging in a complicated grooming ritual."

Dominic mimicked the same voice as he said with a grin, "And watch them demonstrate their true colours," and he flicked a blob of paint at Billy’s nose.

Billy groaned, swiping it away. "Bad punning is unforgivable, Dom."

"Sorry." He swiped the bottle of shampoo from behind Billy and tipped it into his hands, watching with delight as the last of the noxious pink dripped away along with the foamy bubbles.

Billy wordlessly held his hand out for the bottle. Dominic shook his head and instead drizzled shampoo up Billy’s arm, rubbing it in with long, firm strokes. "Jesus, Billy, you’re absolutely covered in paint. What did you do? Jump in a vat of the stuff?"

"Note: shorts and t-shirt are not suitable paintballing wear," Billy said softly, concentrating on not concentrating on his impromptu massage.

Dominic unconsciously echoed his quiet pitch, "Good advice." His hand skated up and round Billy’s shoulder. "Turn round."

Billy hesitated, which elicited a soft chuckle from Dom. "Don’t worry, I’m not going to take advantage of you."

‘Even if I asked nicely?’ Billy wanted to enquire, but unless he knew this wasn’t another one of Dom’s games he was too wary to give that much away. Do not get involved with close friends or co-workers had always been his motto.

Well, he was currently getting soaped up by his best friend, both on and off screen, so that was shot to hell.

From kids movie, to wildlife show, to prison drama, in the space of minutes, Billy thought wildly.

The thick, syrupy feeling of shampoo trickling between his shoulder blades was followed by the slightly roughened pads of Dominic’s fingers skimming over his skin. Billy hissed as they found a particularly sensitive spot.

Dominic whistled through his teeth. "How easily do you mark, Bill? If you get all the paint off, you’re still going to be colourful tomorrow. Even Orli would be proud of the collection of bruises you’ve got. Orcs?"

"Gondor, I think." Billy braced his arms against the cool tiles as Dominic returned to his task. Yes, this was all perfectly innocent.

"Good thing I avenged the Shire then."

"Thought you did that for Rohan."

"Well, you know, there’s enough of me to go round. I’ll claim the victory in the name of both." To which Billy replied with only a snort of amusement.

Dom’s hands slid up and into Billy’s hair, carefully massaging his scalp.

"You know, if the movie bombs, I’m sure you could have a bright career in hairdressing." Billy smiled as he felt Dominic sculpt his hair into an elaborate shampoo structure. "Predictable, Dom."

"Definitely slipping in my old age."

Billy just mmmed softly, tipping his head back to stop the suds running into his eyes.

"Though I thought the paint thing was a pretty damn good idea."

"It was yours? Guess my battered state is your fault then."

"I’ll make it up to you." Dominic pressed up behind him and Billy finally discarded the ‘innocent hijinks’ card. "If you want me to."

And his tone was just unsure enough to convince Billy that this maybe wasn’t a game either.

The lingering remains of soap, shampoo and paint on his skin made it easy to slip out of Dominic’s grasp and turn to face him.

"Say something, Billy," Dominic whispered, "Even if it’s ‘no’, you have to tell me. I’m so tired of…"

Billy cut him off with a kiss, taking advantage of Dominic’s surprise to fulfil a long-held, and buried, fantasy and slick his tongue fully across that tempting bottom lip.

Dom broke away with a shaky breath. "So that’s not no then."

"You did all this," Billy gestured as widely as possible in the enclosed space, "honestly not knowing how I’d respond? Here was me thinking cast, crew and country all knew I wanted you."

"I knew *that*," Dom said with a smirk, "just not if you were ever going to let yourself act on it."

If that was a challenge, Billy couldn’t let it go unanswered. Placing his hand in the centre of Dom’s chest he pushed him firmly back, hard, so that he hit the wall with an exhaled ‘oomph’.

Dominic had a split second to register the dangerous glint in Billy’s eyes before his mouth was captured in a fierce kiss and his eyes slipped shut of their own accord. His attempts to reciprocate were met with a tightening of the grasp Billy had around his wrists, pinned to the wall at his sides (and when exactly had that happened?). Dominic pushed his hips forward, desperately seeking contact, but somehow Billy anticipated it and moved away each time.

Knowing defeat when he practically melted into a puddle of it, Dominic surrendered to Billy’s will, letting his world shrink down to the sparking of nerve endings wherever their skin made contact.

God this man could kiss, one moment soft and slow, the next urgent and bruising.

If the footing wasn’t so slippery, and Billy would let him move, and they hadn’t been standing and the same height, Dominic would have really liked to be climbing up Billy right now thank you.

Oxygen had become a pressing issue by the time Billy finally pulled back, their harsh gasps echoing around them. Dominic was very glad for the wall that was kindly supporting him, especially since he was shaking, actually fucking shaking.

Yeah, Dominic’s role as the ‘seducer’ had really fallen apart, but with Billy finally, *finally*, pressed up against him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He moved further into Billy’s embrace, eliciting moans from both of them as their cocks slid against each other.

Dominic stepped forward again just as Billy moved and suddenly they were both falling, the rip of the shower curtain accompanying their trip but not cushioning the fall as they landed in an ungainly heap on the floor.

Ow. "Shit." Dominic laughed as he untangled himself from Billy and lay back on the floor beside the strangely silent other man. "Billy?"

"I’m lying on a very cold floor, naked and wet, having almost cracked my skull open from half destroying and falling out of a shower." Billy glanced down at his torso. "And I still look like I came up against Rainbow Brite in a dark alley. Things like this never happened to me before I met you."

"Uh… sorry?"

Billy slung an arm around Dominic’s shoulders companionably. "You’re forgiven on three conditions. No more paintball, no more joint showers," he placed a hand over Dominic’s mouth to stop his protest, "and we go find a bed."

*****

Dominic threw his keys on the table as he entered, the jangle loud in the silence of the flat, which was a clear indication that no one else was around. His intended foraging trip to the kitchen was forgotten as he spotted the box lying on the table, his name written across it in black marker.

It wasn’t sealed and the flaps popped open when he lifted it, his face breaking out in a huge grin as a massive array of bath products – coloured soaps and water dyes and even a rubber duck, which, yes, squeaked – were revealed. At the bottom was a slim hardback children’s book – Fun and Games at Bathtime. The word ‘ALONE’ had been added in the same marker as had been used on the box.

He dropped onto the couch as he flicked idly through the book, stopping when he saw the familiar hand-writing again, this time carefully printed inside the back cover. ‘Something to amuse you and so help keep both of us out of trouble.’

Setting the book aside, Dominic returned to his box of goodies with a wicked grin. What had Billy been thinking? No showering together had been agreed on, yes – but at no point had baths been mentioned.

And he had hours to plan before Billy would be arriving.