LOTRips - 185 Words Short and Then Some
Mar. 25th, 2004 12:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archiveThis story is happy. Really. No, not fooling. Also, today’s story comes with visuals! Exhibit#1, Exhibit #2, Exhibit #3 and Exhibit #4. I know. Everyone can blame thank ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
missu
LOTRips
BB/DM
185 Words Short and Then Some
If I could take it back, you know I would/
I wanna burn up and die
Bruce Lee would not be afraid of walking the red carpet with Billy Boyd, while thousands of people scream their heads off and generally outdo the hardest hooligans that Man Utd can produce -- therefore, neither is Dom.
Dom is not afraid at all -- he’s just rubbing his palms on his shirt because they’re a bit damp is all. It’s really not fear; it’s just nerves, which Dom disguised in the car by nearly taking out his eye with Liv’s eyeliner. He can’t help himself though -- it’s all Bill’s fault.
Since the moment they met and Billy opened his mouth and ruined Dom for Scotsmen everywhere, Billy’s never stopped making Dom’s stomach do cartwheels and flips and all sorts of aerodynamic things that Dom should be way too old to try and learn at his age. If Billy asked though -- well, if Billy asked Dom would do a lot of things.
After all, it’s not that Dom’s afraid of the fans, it’s that he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing to Billy, yet again, and what do people do once they’ve mucked up everything that love? Christ, but Dom wishes he knew. He wishes he’d kept his gob shut and just let the moment go, but it just seemed the right thing to do, to say at the time. It’s not like he didn’t mean it. He did. He does. Maybe that’s the problem and all, except that Billy didn’t say anything back and, well,
Dom meant it.
But obviously this is why people don’t ever tell the truth, because it’s fucking nerve-wracking and ball busting to be honest. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Honesty is fucking painful. It’s easy to say what someone should do, but actually doing is an entirely different matter altogether. And what prat told Dom to be honest? Viggo. Right. And didn’t Viggo let Orli get away? But that’s not really the point at all, is it?
The point is that Dom is here, and Billy is here, and Dom’s sweating like he just nicked something from the offie. He can feel the sharp bite of the eyeliner running into his eyes, and he shouldn’t be sweating because it’s arse-freezing cold. It’s impossibly fucking cold in Berlin, and Dom can feel his nose going numb. He can see the pink tip of Billy’s nose in his periphery, going up and down as Billy nods at fans and waves for cameras, and all Dom can see is neon spots. He’s blind amongst the chatter and Billy’s closeness and all the ensuing chaos. Film premieres have nothing on the effect of proximity to his Bills; Dom knows that one all too well, and all he can sense is Billy’s hand on his elbow guiding his movements and Billy’s finger showing him where to smile.
If he looks as lost as he feels, he’s done for; and Christ, without Bill he’d be even further up the creek that he already is, and now’s not really the time for him to apologise. Now is not the place for Dom to say, ‘I didn’t mean it’ or ‘I did mean it, but it’s all right if you don’t feel the same’ or ‘I’ll take it back if you won’t leave me here with crap black eyeliner in my eyes.’
Except that it’s always the little shit that trips up Dom in the end, and it’s a bit late to shut the door once the cat’s already up the tree.
Three fucking words whispered into the tiny shell of an ear have got Dom running around like he’s going to laugh or cry or throw an enormous wobbler or some combination thereof. And he’s only got two feet so why is it so hard for him to step away for three seconds so that the press will stop making his ears ring. Every part of his body is confused as to the directions he’s giving it. Left, no, right, no, back, no, just -- if his body could just go wherever Billy’s going, Dom would be just fine. But that’s been the problem for the last two years anyway, and Billy’s got this absolutely wee nose.
Dom’s so done for.
In the back of his mind he can hear people screaming his name and there are flashes going off all around him and his fingers are stiff, but Billy’s there next to him, guiding him, and Dom knows it’s all going to sort itself out okay.
It doesn’t matter if it’s cold or if it hurts or if Dom exposes himself too much at any given time, he’s completely in love with Billy and maybe that doesn’t always need words. Some things don’t have to be said, and The Beatles had it wrong: happiness is not a warm gun, happiness is something that defies words and songs and Bruce Lee videos in the wee hours of morning.
Happiness is askew ties and purple shirts and Billy Boyd looking Dom straight in the eye.
Billy doesn’t have to say anything; it’s all there on his face for everyone.
-end-
Notes: + A picture tells 1000 words. As you can see I'm a bit short, hence the title.
+ Improv by the most loved, and whupped,serialkarma: askew, neon, blind, stagger, chaos.
+ Lyrics from the Stereophonics ‘Since I Told You It’s Over’
missuLOTRips
BB/DM
185 Words Short and Then Some
I wanna burn up and die
Bruce Lee would not be afraid of walking the red carpet with Billy Boyd, while thousands of people scream their heads off and generally outdo the hardest hooligans that Man Utd can produce -- therefore, neither is Dom.
Dom is not afraid at all -- he’s just rubbing his palms on his shirt because they’re a bit damp is all. It’s really not fear; it’s just nerves, which Dom disguised in the car by nearly taking out his eye with Liv’s eyeliner. He can’t help himself though -- it’s all Bill’s fault.
Since the moment they met and Billy opened his mouth and ruined Dom for Scotsmen everywhere, Billy’s never stopped making Dom’s stomach do cartwheels and flips and all sorts of aerodynamic things that Dom should be way too old to try and learn at his age. If Billy asked though -- well, if Billy asked Dom would do a lot of things.
After all, it’s not that Dom’s afraid of the fans, it’s that he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing to Billy, yet again, and what do people do once they’ve mucked up everything that love? Christ, but Dom wishes he knew. He wishes he’d kept his gob shut and just let the moment go, but it just seemed the right thing to do, to say at the time. It’s not like he didn’t mean it. He did. He does. Maybe that’s the problem and all, except that Billy didn’t say anything back and, well,
Dom meant it.
But obviously this is why people don’t ever tell the truth, because it’s fucking nerve-wracking and ball busting to be honest. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Honesty is fucking painful. It’s easy to say what someone should do, but actually doing is an entirely different matter altogether. And what prat told Dom to be honest? Viggo. Right. And didn’t Viggo let Orli get away? But that’s not really the point at all, is it?
The point is that Dom is here, and Billy is here, and Dom’s sweating like he just nicked something from the offie. He can feel the sharp bite of the eyeliner running into his eyes, and he shouldn’t be sweating because it’s arse-freezing cold. It’s impossibly fucking cold in Berlin, and Dom can feel his nose going numb. He can see the pink tip of Billy’s nose in his periphery, going up and down as Billy nods at fans and waves for cameras, and all Dom can see is neon spots. He’s blind amongst the chatter and Billy’s closeness and all the ensuing chaos. Film premieres have nothing on the effect of proximity to his Bills; Dom knows that one all too well, and all he can sense is Billy’s hand on his elbow guiding his movements and Billy’s finger showing him where to smile.
If he looks as lost as he feels, he’s done for; and Christ, without Bill he’d be even further up the creek that he already is, and now’s not really the time for him to apologise. Now is not the place for Dom to say, ‘I didn’t mean it’ or ‘I did mean it, but it’s all right if you don’t feel the same’ or ‘I’ll take it back if you won’t leave me here with crap black eyeliner in my eyes.’
Except that it’s always the little shit that trips up Dom in the end, and it’s a bit late to shut the door once the cat’s already up the tree.
Three fucking words whispered into the tiny shell of an ear have got Dom running around like he’s going to laugh or cry or throw an enormous wobbler or some combination thereof. And he’s only got two feet so why is it so hard for him to step away for three seconds so that the press will stop making his ears ring. Every part of his body is confused as to the directions he’s giving it. Left, no, right, no, back, no, just -- if his body could just go wherever Billy’s going, Dom would be just fine. But that’s been the problem for the last two years anyway, and Billy’s got this absolutely wee nose.
Dom’s so done for.
In the back of his mind he can hear people screaming his name and there are flashes going off all around him and his fingers are stiff, but Billy’s there next to him, guiding him, and Dom knows it’s all going to sort itself out okay.
It doesn’t matter if it’s cold or if it hurts or if Dom exposes himself too much at any given time, he’s completely in love with Billy and maybe that doesn’t always need words. Some things don’t have to be said, and The Beatles had it wrong: happiness is not a warm gun, happiness is something that defies words and songs and Bruce Lee videos in the wee hours of morning.
Happiness is askew ties and purple shirts and Billy Boyd looking Dom straight in the eye.
Billy doesn’t have to say anything; it’s all there on his face for everyone.
-end-
Notes: + A picture tells 1000 words. As you can see I'm a bit short, hence the title.
+ Improv by the most loved, and whupped,
serialkarma: askew, neon, blind, stagger, chaos.+ Lyrics from the Stereophonics ‘Since I Told You It’s Over’
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 01:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 01:08 pm (UTC)You have such a way with words. I was going to quote something, but I just read the whole thing again to pick it out, and it's all good. =)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 02:20 pm (UTC)Actually, if a picture tells 1000 words, and you've got four pictures up there, doesn't that make you 3185 short?
*ducks*
What?! You knew I was a smartass!
On a less-likely-to-get-me-whupped note:
Happiness is askew ties and purple shirts and Billy Boyd looking Dom straight in the eye.
This just makes me grin. Actually, the whole end of the story does. I feel so bad for Dom at first, all worried and confused and scared, and then he pulls himself out of it and he finds the happy, and just. Yes. *g*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 02:50 pm (UTC)*ducks*
What?! You knew I was a smartass!
*whaps repeatedly* Shutupshutupshutupshutup!
Happiness is askew ties and purple shirts and Billy Boyd looking Dom straight in the eye.
This just makes me grin. Actually, the whole end of the story does. I feel so bad for Dom at first, all worried and confused and scared, and then he pulls himself out of it and he finds the happy, and just. Yes. *g*
I told you, this week is happy week!
no subject
Date: 2004-03-29 11:42 am (UTC)Dude, I was scrolling past the comments to make that exact snarky comment when I noticed this.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 03:28 pm (UTC)so i was looking at exhibit #4 and thought, "where have i seen that expression before?" and that's when i realized that my brother's engagement photo where he and his fiancée are gazing at each other, is the exact same look that billy and dom have. le sigh.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 04:30 pm (UTC)That's the best thing I've heard all day.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 05:38 pm (UTC)You're amazing.
Yes.
*toddles off to bed, clutching happy feeling to chest*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 07:13 pm (UTC)I love:
Since the moment they met and Billy opened his mouth and ruined Dom for Scotsmen everywhere...
It's too perfect. 'Specially because it's so hard to reference Billy's accent in a new way. And, of course, the continuation of that line:
Billy’s never stopped making Dom’s stomach do cartwheels and flips and all sorts of aerodynamic things that Dom should be way too old to try and learn at his age. If Billy asked though -- well, if Billy asked Dom would do a lot of things.
Is also fantastic. ^.^
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 07:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 09:18 am (UTC)I try.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 08:18 pm (UTC)there were so many great things here. the repetition was really fantastic, with the eyeliner, etc. helped get that slightly manic red carpet vibe across.
and then this:
But that's been the problem for the last two years anyway, and Billy's got this absolutely wee nose.
i have no idea why that hit me the way it did. but, for lack of a better phrase, i read that and i was "so done for".
thank you. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 03:55 am (UTC)And just so you know, you've ruined me for any other Doms. The *real* Mr.Monaghan would probably feel out of character at this point.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 09:19 am (UTC)I laughed so hard there were tears. Really.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 01:36 pm (UTC)You write this pairing like no one does & I love that & I loved this for that and for the love, the simple love and the nervousness & the happiness.
:)