*

1. Attraction

((small acts of kindness))

Finding a moments silence was a rare occurrence, being alone in the hobbit trailer even more so.

Billy started as he heard the inevitable click of the door, shoving his photos back in his bag, and turning, ready to paste on a smile for whoever was there.

Dominic shook his head and sank onto the sofa beside Billy, holding out a steaming polystyrene cup. Once Billy took it, he wrapped an arm around Billy and tugged him closer.

Billy relaxed into the loose embrace, letting his thoughts of home drift away as he savoured the novelty of a proper cup of tea.

*

He looked down at the package suddenly dropped in his lap. Billy moved slowly as if he expected the innocuous brown wrapping to suddenly rear up and bite him. "What’s this for?"

Dom shrugged. "Heard them in the shop. Thought you might like it."

He managed to pull the CD out unscathed. Coldplay. Billy blinked as with a wave and yell to Elijah to wait, Dominic was off again.

"Thanks."

*

Billy was vaguely aware of warmth surrounding his body… and stroking his face

He blinked blearily, struggling to focus as the kneeling Dom came into view. The Dom who was rubbing a thumb down Billy’s cheek. This was an infinitely better way to wake up than the usual yelling he got from various hobbits, elves and men. "Dom?"

He smiled and ruffled Pippin’s hair. "They need us on set."

Billy squinted as Dom opened the door, letting in the harsh afternoon sun. He stood, or tried to at least, because a wide swath of blue fabric was tangled around his legs.

Dom yelled back, "And you better return that blanket. I stole it from the other trailer."

Billy shook his head as he unravelled himself. Still he couldn’t help feeling… touched for some reason.

*

((lead you to see something new))

Billy dropped his suit and then himself onto the ground, the thin towel doing nothing to mask the heat of the sand beneath it. "Sunbathing with a wetsuit on rather defeats the purpose, Dominic."

"You just want me to flash my pale, white arse to the world," Dom mumbled into the crook of his arm.

It’s perfectly normal for your eyes to flick to a body part when someone specifically refers to it, Billy told himself. " I think the words you’re actually looking for are ‘pasty’ and ‘scrawny’."

"Like you can talk." Dominic turned his head to see Billy sitting up and rubbing the small of his back. "What have you done now?"

"Nothing." Billy shrugged. And winced. "Just twisted the wrong way with that last wave I think."

Dom pushed himself to his feet. "Turn over."

"What?" Standing above him like that, Dom was just a black outline backlit by an eerie glow. "No."

"I know what I’m doing, I can help."

Warily, Billy turned over, wriggling to try and make the ridges and grooves in the sand match those of his body. He yelped when cold liquid splattered across his back and turned to Dominic accusingly.

Who just waved the bottle of sun lotion innocently. "Relax, Billy."

Mumbling not so complimentary thing about Dom’s heritage, Billy settled his head against his folded arms, wondering how long he was going to have to endure this for. Two hands skimmed across the expanse of his back, spreading and warming the liquid.

Then the kneading began.

Dom started with his lower back, working out the knot that had formed when he was trying to outdo Orlando. Billy had to bite back a moan as Dom alternated between using the heels of his hands and just the pads of his thumbs, moving up his sides, crossing back to his spine and ending at his shoulders.

Slim hands, he thought. Dom has slim hands. Which was expected because Dom was slim all over and it would have been bizarre if he’d had fat hands. Not that Billy had made a point of noticing his size. It was just there. A fact.

Rings too. Who wears rings to the beach? Dom obviously, since he could feel their irregularity – as warm as the rest of Dom’s hands, but still, not the sensation of skin. Because they were made of metal. Obviously.

Billy wondered if maybe he had hit his head earlier without noticing.

The man above him shifted and he was suddenly aware of the weight of Dom sitting on his arse, and how every time he moved, Billy was *pushed* into the thankfully compliant sand.

This was not good.

This was *Dom*.

But then this was a massage and a sexual response was almost expected, wasn’t it? Why else would massage parlours be such popular fronts for prostitution? Though they were probably more about the sex side of things than the actual massage.

And he couldn’t even see Dom, so it was just his body reacting, unfortunate as it was, to the admittedly pleasant sensation of the (slim, constantly moving, expressive) hands on his skin.

Right.

"You still awake down there?"

Billy made a noise which was supposed to be a grunt of affirmation but might possibly have been more of a breathy moan. Obviously it hadn’t been bitten back earlier, it had just been waiting for him to open his mouth so it could escape.

He thankfully did manage to stop himself protesting when weight and hands disappeared with a final pat on the back and a, "Don’t say I never do anything for you."

Billy managed to regain enough motor control to operate his eyelids, watching, no, just idly observing something that was in his eye line, as Dominic peeled off his rubber suit with a sigh, revealing the previously considered slim body.

Not considered. Just noticed.

Billy’s head was starting to hurt.

Dominic lay down, slipping his sunglasses back on, and Billy’s eyes didn’t drop to his mouth as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips, and keep dropping to follow the hand idly stroking his bare stomach, and Billy didn’t dig his nails into his arms hard enough to leave marks, and he didn’t involuntarily push himself into the willing sand.

Yes he did.

Oh, this was so bad.

((refutation and rejection))

Billy had decided that whatever he’d thought, or thought he’d felt that day on the beach, had just been down to too much sun exposure.

Because of course he hadn’t spent an hour not even registering the daily insults while staring at Dom’s arse in Feet this morning.

And he had not spent most of this week trying to catalogue Dom’s generous affections – did he get more hugs or was it Elijah? Did Orli get more abuse or did he?

Billy pushed his tray away and banged his head off the table. Okay, probably not the best thing to do in a canteen full of people, not all of who think you’re insane already. Although he was a lone hobbit at lunch, so it was entirely possible he was broadcasting excessive signals of the ‘exhibiting obsessive tendencies and losing his mind’ variety.

Not to sound like he was nine years old again, but this wasn’t fair. It was like walking down an ordinary street on an ordinary day and suddenly getting hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat. By an elephant. With opposable thumbs.

By which he meant weird and unexpected, not that he had suddenly gone mad. Probably.

He had met Orlando at the airport, been knocked over by a blinding smile, then picked up, swung round and thought ‘Fuck! I didn’t know real people could be so beautiful’.

He had met Elijah and spent most of the first hour (day, month, year) trying to decide if he thought those eyes were attractive or freaky. And not believing how young he was.

He had not met Dominic and thought ‘Hey! You’re kind of hot!’ Admittedly he was somewhat nervous the day he met the person he was going to be spending most of the next couple of years with and he couldn’t recall everything that went through his head, but Billy was pretty sure that might have stuck out.

Especially because that’s the kind of thing you would keep noticing. Not suddenly have slap you in the face a year later.

Maybe it was a form of cabin fever. All of them isolated like this, too much time together and not enough new faces. Not counting the hundreds of extras and crew of course. Which would really only be a slightly nicer way of saying ‘madness’ and he may not have intended (not) feeling like this, but it would be insulting to his friend to consider having feelings for Dominic Monaghan the relationship equivalent of looking for hairs on the palms of your hands.

It could be just lust. Then if anything did happen, they could still be friends, casual fuck buddies, whatever. And then fixation on various body parts would be more acceptable.

Only problem was that wasn’t something Billy would ever want from anyone, let alone his best friend. He never wanted to do anything by halves and ‘let’s have sex while I tie myself up in knots figuring out/denying I have feelings’ would probably be more confusion, less fun anyway.

There was always the option of mentioning things to Dominic and seeing how he reacted, though he’d have to be suitably drunk to do it.

He looked over at Dominic on the other side of the canteen. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t risk any reaction that Dom would have – couldn’t handle ‘It’s not you’ pity, or laughter, him thinking it a joke.

Didn’t know if he could handle Dom saying yes, taking it seriously - not when he didn’t even know if there was a seriously to be taken.

*

((lead to further confusion))

Hard muscle under skin slippery and shiny with sweat.

"Billy…"

Hands blindly groping, shoving, pulling.

"Billy, I…"

Soft lips, wet heat, desperate thrust of tongue against tongue.

"Billy, don’t!"

Pushed back, gasping for air, hurt brown eyes.

"Orli…"

"Don’t." Orlando shook his head, combing his fingers through his unruly Mohawk. "I’m not him. I’m not a fucking substitute for anyone." He smiled tiredly at Billy’s shock. "I’m not blind, or as stupid as everyone likes to think."

"Does he…"

"No." Orlando smoothed down Billy’s shirt like he hadn’t just been getting mauled against a wall by the crumpled guy he was fixing. "So I guess he must be more stupid than people think."

Billy wiped his hand over his mouth. "Christ, I’m sorry."

"Yeah." Orlando gave a last tug on his collar and walked over to the door. He paused there long enough to let Billy get to three (spontaneous freezing, falling and shattering) in his contemplation of the many ways he wanted to die right then.

"Do yourself a favour, Billy. Stop fucking around and do something about this." He grinned as he opened the door. "I don’t care if it’s getting over it, or getting under him, but you’re ruining my happy hobbit stereotype like this and I’m too young to be disillusioned."

Billy summoned up a weak smile.

Of course, Orlando couldn’t leave without one last throwaway remark over the shoulder. "Oh, and Billy? I won’t tell Viggo about this."

What? Did he…? What?

Oh, shit, who was the blind one now?

Well done Billy my man, when you fuck up you really make that special effort to go above and beyond the call of duty.

Fuck.

((envy and desire))

There was a certain knack to it, Billy was sure. If you pulled just right, with the correct amount of speed and tension, it would come off whole.

The label detached from the bottle, leaving a white rectangle of paper and glue. Yeah, Billy didn’t have the knack.

Next item – beer mat. Much easier, the top and bottom layers came off easily and were ripped up into tiny pieces. Billy let them rain down like confetti from his hand into the ashtray, ignoring the raised eyebrows Sean was directing at him. If he wanted to be the anti-life of the party that was his bloody choice.

He didn’t turn around to check out the latest antics of the others. Okay, he’d talked about this. Admittedly to himself but still, considering the problem was lying to himself that seemed alright.

He *did* turn around to see the others.

Orlando’s reputation as the cast slut was really quite unfair, he thought. Although watching him now, you could probably be forgiven for thinking it.

Sinfully tight fashion gone wrong sparkled under the flashing lights, willing bodies pressed against either side of him – an arm thrown casually around one, his head back against the other. But the thing that went mostly unnoticed, by Billy included until (the humiliation) he actually knew, was that if Orlando went home with someone, it was invariably the same person each time. If Billy had to label him, it would be ‘Affectionate Actor’.

Dominic, however, would be ‘Fucking Tease’.

That probably wasn’t fair. Not like it was Billy’s business if Dom wanted to screw around with half of New Zealand. Wasn’t like it bothered him to see Dominic indulging in what Elijah (the WonderBoy sidekick who happily encouraged it) had classed an ‘Overactive Hormones Phase’.

Although it was fucking unfair that he’d been the one to actually walk in on it twice now – one a definite lesson in the value of knocking, even if it was his trailer too and he had managed to back out unnoticed, and one his misfortune at taking a wrong turn in a club and finding Dom against a wall with his head back and a redhead between his knees.

Sure, afterwards they’d laughed about it, with Billy giving him plenty of abuse about how classy he was.

And, in the spirit of honesty, it had provided excellent material to flesh out Billy’s fantasies with.

The long column of Dom’s neck exposed - licking down it, testing the texture of that freckle with his tongue. Marking the pale flesh with lips and teeth, so all those others would know to back off, because Dominic had already been claimed.

Pinning his wrists down hard enough to leave bruises, giving him a reason to wear those cuffs. Others would be blind to it, but Billy would know and the leather would chafe, giving Dominic a constant reminder.

The way Dom’s arse flexed as he pushed into the unseen (unimportant) girl – how it would feel to have those muscles tensing under his hands, clenching around his cock. What that soft skin would taste like, the anticipation of it building as he worked his way down Dominic’s spine, counting vertebrae as he gently scraped his teeth over them. Sliding his tongue down the cleft, teasing with the tip of his tongue against the hole before finally pushing in, delighting in the corresponding hard thrust of Dom’s cock in his tight fist.

Turning him round, pressing him up or down against the nearest flat surface before taking Dom’s cock as far as he could into his throat. Slicking it with saliva as the only preparation before Billy lifted and sank down, savouring the stretch and burn as he was gradually filled.

Hearing Dom groan his name as he came. Having Dom’s warm body wrapped around him, warm breath on the back of his neck, as they fell asleep.

But Dom was a mate.

Maybe Billy was a coward, but that was all he was ever going to ask from Dom.

So, he just watched, trying to do it blankly, thinking nothing about anything as Dominic whispered something to his latest victim while his hand disappeared under the clingy fabric of her top.

*

((lead you in circles))

When you know for a fact you went to bed alone, it’s somewhat disconcerting to wake up and find a pair of deep blue eyes staring at you from the next pillow.

Not just a pair of eyes obviously – that would be a whole different kind of disturbing. These were attached to all the other necessary parts to make a whole person. Thankfully.

Said person had messy hair, little clothing and looked too damn awake for half past pitch black. And he smelled nice, though if Billy voiced anything to Dominic it wouldn’t be that part.

"You’re awake."

"You’re in my bed."

"And both of us have fully functional observational skills."

Thank God for restraint, Billy thought as he refrained from slapping both himself and Dominic. "Why?"

Dominic shrugged. "I like to think my thousands of days of life-experience have taught me a little about the difference between a conscious and unconscious person at least."

It was too early to deal with this. Billy wondered if he just turned over and went to back to sleep if Dominic would just helpfully disappear. Or at least help him act out one of his more pleasant dreams.

Doubtful to both.

Billy offered what he thought was a winning smile, though it might have been a tired grimace. "Would that be *them* unconscious due to the shock of waking to strange men in their homes in the middle of the night, or *you* unconscious from them beating you that way for freaking them out doing it."

"That was a lot of words for someone who’s just woken up."

Billy sighed and yanked the bedcovers back onto the bed from where they were threatening to slip onto the floor. Perhaps a little too forcibly. "Why are you here, Dominic?"

"Because I couldn’t sleep, Billy. And your house happens to be roughly on the same route as the 24-hour shop, which I had to visit for pancake supplies. And you had handily left the door unlocked."

"What happened to…?" Samantha? Pamela? Bleached blonde slut with no self-worth?

"Sandra. Went home."

Hello, gnawing feeling, three guesses to what you are, and my, doesn’t that lovely shade of green suit you.

Dominic leaned forward and pecked the end of Billy’s nose. "So how about pancakes then?"

Sometimes Billy didn’t know whether to love or hate his life.

((leads you to nothing))

Of course this happened. Because fate was a fucking cruel bitch that Billy had obviously pissed off at some point so she now felt she had to pull out all the stops to drive him mad.

Movie scenario: Unfortunate lack of rooms. Two people have to share. Some conversation, maybe alcohol, lots of sexual tension and bam. They sleep together.

Now, depending on the movie, it was either the start of something wonderful or a huge mistake, but either way, there was always a ‘Night Before’ part.

Not in Billy’s case. The only bright side he was desperately trying to hang on to was that at least they had separate beds so he couldn’t embarrass himself.

Though if they hadn’t, Dom probably wouldn’t have had the fucking cheek to bring someone back to the room with him, while Billy was lying there doing a piss poor job of feigning sleep.

Giggles and sighs floated over from the other side of the room, accompanied by the rustling of fabric and frantic shushes.

How considerate of you not wanting to wake me, he thought, digging his nails into his palms so hard he knew he was bordering on drawing blood. He couldn’t just lie here and he was desperately trying to remember who else was in the hotel and wouldn’t mind him turning up at the door, and, most importantly, would be alone and wouldn’t ask any questions. Maybe…

"Please, Lij…"

And there was the final cut.

Billy closed his eyes for a second before swinging wordlessly from the bed and grabbing his shirt as he crossed the room.

He’d reached the end of the corridor by the time he heard the room door swing shut with a heavy thud.

He was only wearing a pair of boxers but outside seemed like a good plan. He had no shoes and the car park gravel cut into his feet but he had the melodrama flowing so what was a little more pain?

"Billy?"

He’s not sure if he’s surprised that Dom followed him out. And, wait, Elijah’s standing by the door too. No, he’s not surprised. He knows him. Them.

Dominic had taken the time to pull on a jacket but was still shivering as he approached. "I’m so sorry, Bill, I didn’t realize…"

Billy bit back a laugh. "No, you didn’t."

"…you were awake. What?"

"Nothing. Go back inside. Finish what you were doing. Don’t let me interrupt you," Billy said, turning his back.

"Look, I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done it but Elijah couldn’t find his key and…"

Billy shrugged, attempting nonchalance while gritting his teeth. "I don’t care. Do what-- *who* you want. Just leave me alone."

"No." Dominic walked round to face Billy. "And what is that supposed to mean – what, you don’t approve?" Dominic took his silence as agreement. "You’re supposed to be my mate, not my fucking mother, Billy!"

They should, he thought, at least be shouting here. "Maybe if you were a little more discrete, Dominic, instead of shoving it down everyone’s throats." He shouldn’t be wearing this smile, bitter and twisted. "Pun intended."

Dominic just blinked at him before looking at Elijah over his shoulder. Something passed between them that Billy didn’t understand but Elijah left, if the quiet ‘snick’ of the door echoing in the silence was anything to judge by.

Kid sent to bed so he doesn’t have to see the parents fight, Billy thought.

Dominic rounded on him again. "Is that what all this has been about? You, withdrawing, backing out of things at the last minute, more and more often." Dom’s voice rose as he continued, stepping into Billy’s space. "I thought something was wrong, Billy, but apparently you were just overreacting to my sluttish behaviour!"

"There’s a limit to how many times I could stomach seeing it. I apparently just reached it with you getting bored of the locals and moving on to the cast."

That was too far. Billy knew it as soon as he’d said it, didn’t need to see the hurt on Dominic’s face, or the way he flinched and backed off as if he’d been hit, to confirm it.

"Do I really disgust you that much? I’m surprised you could even bring yourself to share a room with me, Billy. Although, congratulations, didn’t I prove you right there?"

"Dom…"

"Would it make you feel better if I told you not to believe everything you hear? That I escorted as many, more, people only as far as their doors as I followed in."

Billy dropped his eyes, unable to meet Dominic’s any longer.

"Why do I have to defend myself to you? What makes you think you can stand there and judge me? I can’t help noticing you don’t have the same issues with Elijah, who’s just as ‘bad’." He stopped, even the jittering of his leg halted, which was all Billy could really see without looking up. "Oh."

Billy could practically smell the burn of a new light bulb as Dominic realised. Too smart, he thought. Or Orli was right, and too stupid to figure it out sooner, but he’d probably insulted Dom enough already tonight.

"Because it’s me." Dom laughed but the sound was a long way from anything pleasant. "Why didn’t you say something, Billy? Surely you didn’t think I’d turn you down, not with what you know about me." Dom’s feet were practically on top of Billy’s now he was so close. A hand forced his chin up to meet chilly eyes. "This is what you wanted right?"

Billy was too surprised to offer any resistance when Dom’s mouth descended, tongue slicking over his and exploring his teeth. And shocked wasn’t adequate for when his cold hand plunged into Billy’s shorts, pumping his cock hard and fast.

He came with a cry muffled by Dom’s lips, and Dom instantly drew back from him, wiping his hand distractedly on his trousers. Billy stood gasping, suddenly aware that they were in public and how cold it was, but not of what had just happened.

Dominic shook his head. "Fuck you, Billy," he whispered.

Billy tried to tell himself it was only the streetlights that had caused Dom’s eyes to shine like that.

Billy leaned his forehead against the door. Shit. This was just… fucking hell this was beyond bad.

"Dom, let me in, please."

Silence.

"Dom, I…" If he had a clue what to say this might work better.

He stumbled when the door opened, Dominic already walking away by the time he corrected his freefall and looked up.

"We have to be in make-up in a couple of hours." Dom climbed into his empty bed, facing away from Billy. "Turn the light off when you’re done."

"Dom…"

"Don’t. Just don’t."

Billy hesitated by the entrance, wondering how Dom managed to make the back of his head look unforgiving like that. He shook his head and draped his shirt back over the chair before switching the light off and tripping across the bag-strewn room.

And sitting down on the end of Dom’s bed.

He didn’t know how long he just sat there, listening to the sound of them breathing and trying to pretend that part of him wasn’t waiting for Dom to kick him off.

"I’m sorry," he said finally. "I’m sorry that I’ve been letting this eat me up. I’m sorry that… that I’ve been pretending, and hiding, and hating me, and you, and the entire world for making me feel like this."

Dom shifted but didn’t say anything.

"I’m sorry for everything I said outside. Shit, I’m even sorry for everything I’ve thought lately. I… I meant to hurt you and I shouldn’t have… you didn’t deserve it."

Billy took a deep breath. "I’m, I’m not sorry that I’ve been filing away moments spent with you, for months, without even realizing it. I’m not sorry that there’s no one I’d rather be stuck in a giant fake tree with for hours than you. I don’t know if I’m sorry that I’d rather spend a day with you not talking to me, than an hour with Elijah after too much sugar when he’s squealing things only dogs can hear."

That might have almost been a laugh. Maybe

"I’m sorry that I didn’t just come to you in the first place, especially because somewhere in the last few weeks I think I lost…" He trailed off. The person he had thought he was? Their friendship? The plot entirely?

Dom was sitting up now, though he could see little more than a vague drawn-up shape against the headboard.

"Given another chance I would go about it another way… but I’m not sorry that I fell in love with my best friend," Billy whispered.

There was silence for several heart-stopping, soul-crushing seconds, before Dom coughed and said brokenly, "You’re such a wanker, Billy."

That wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d have picked to get but, "I know."

"No, you don’t. Why couldn’t you… I thought I’d never…" Dominic sighed. "Couldn’t you at least have been a bit more obvious about it?"

"I… huh?" He wished he could see Dom’s face, could see anything except black. Just his luck to be in a hotel with decent curtains *now* when he’d really appreciate a little light, and could he say ‘huh’ again?

"I did everything short of covering myself in rose petals and lying in your bed, Billy and I got nothing. No response."

"No… You flirted with everyone *except* me!"

"I did not! Okay, so jumping on people…"

"Licking them," Billy interrupted.

"Whatever. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just fun, burning off energy, madness. You were the one I wanted to just be with and you didn’t even see that! And then you went off with Orlando and I got so drunk I couldn’t even stand up and spilled everything to Elijah, who told me I had to move on, get over it." Dom gave a low laugh. "Shows how much he knew."

"That’s what you get for taking relationship advice from a teenager," Billy said shortly.

"Tonight didn’t mean anything either, Billy. We were just fooling around."

A hand found his knee, whether that’s what Dom was aiming for he didn’t know because - dark. Still. Billy considered getting up to find the light switch again but there was that hand on his knee and was it really possible that Dom had been… and he hadn’t known?

"I should have listened to Orlando in the first place," Billy muttered.

"Don’t tell me you went to *him* for *advice*?"

"Um, not exactly. Long story." Which he wasn’t going to ever tell if he could help it. "But his was better than Elijah’s anyway." Even if he had decided to ignore it. "I can’t believe I’ve managed to make such a mess of this," he groaned.

Dominic squeezed Billy’s knee slightly before his touch disappeared and his weight lifted from the bed. "Hang on."

Dom spent what felt like a very long time rummaging around. Billy was just about to ask what the hell he was looking for when a cool hand found his (with minimum, but not unwelcome anyway, fumbling) and pressed something into his palm.

Small, round, smooth, though with a raised edge and what felt like holes…

"Dom, why are you giving me a button?"

"Another chance," Dominic corrected.

Dom’s fingers intertwined with Billy’s, the small piece of plastic clasped tightly between their hands. They bumped noses twice as Dominic leaned forward and Billy had time to think that maybe Dom’s night vision wasn’t as great as he’d been giving it credit for before Dom brushed his lips over Billy’s.

Billy slid his other arm around Dom’s neck, curling his fingers in the short hair briefly before tugging Dom even closer. Dominic gasped as Billy pulled them both up so they were kneeling on the bed, the mattress dipping and making them lean further into each other, chests pressed together. Billy tentatively slipped his tongue into Dom’s mouth, revelling in the heat, taste, sensation the way he hadn’t earlier.

The annoying requirement of oxygen eventually forced them apart.

"See, I knew we were past the thimble stage," Dom said shakily.

It took a moment to connect.

Billy laughed. "Does that mean you’re Wendy then?"

"Don’t push it or I’ll take it back. Now shut up, get up here and go to sleep."

How could he refuse a request phrased as nicely as that?

They moved up the bed, Billy carefully depositing his ‘chance’ on the bedside table on the way. Dom tucked his head under Billy’s chin, rubbing his slightly rough cheek against Billy’s chest, before pressing a light kiss in the sparse hair.

"I’m not sorry either," Dom said quietly.

Billy wrapped an arm around him, stroking his back as he listened to his breathing slow and even out.

Funny, all that worry, and this didn’t feel awkward at all.