hackthis_archive | LOTRips – The Sum of Our Parts

1) Many happy returns of the day to

ingrid_m -- I hope you have a lovely birthday!

2)

serialkarma wanted some stalkery!wombat fic, but I couldn’t do it, because I kept creeping myself out. Why she couldn’t have just asked me to have somebody whacked, I dunno? That would’ve been so much easier.

3) OMG. Just when you think Sark can’t get any hotter? Wham! The hotness increases exponentially. I want a Sark! Also,

serialkarma and I cannot get over how amazing Djimon Honsou looked in that pinstripe suit last night. Talk about a sharp dressed man. He just looked so good. Which is more proof that not only does evil pay, but it pays better.

3) This really is The Cute.. Its pull is strong, but happy!fic week was last week, dammit. *sulks* Fine. A wee thank you for

stickyfoot for putting a smile on my face.

LOTRips
BB/DM
The Sum of Our Parts

Their connection, their friendship, seems obvious to people on the outside, but it’s really not about those movies they did together that one time. DomandBilly or BillyandDom (as the preference may go) is really about the elements of friendship as a whole. The movies and the interviews and the premieres are just a few things out of tens of hundreds or even just tens of tens that bring them together. They’re just pieces, full stop, and Billy knows this. He knows that whatever united front people may see is actually just lots of parts that look like a cohesive whole.

It’s the little things that make the big thing that holds them together.

*

If Billy’s not careful, Dom will write on him while he’s asleep. He’s woken up numerous times with Sharpie on his arms and blue biro on his hands. He’s found quotes on the soles of his trainers and tiny reminders in the webbing between his fingers. There never seems to be any running theme or method to Dom’s madness, and Billy’s found whole lines of dialogue on the inside of his wrists. The novelty wore off after the first eighteen times Billy woke up and found himself tagged this way, and yet, sometimes he goes to sleep just to see what will be there when he wakes up. It’s like Dom’s leaving presents or pieces of himself all over Billy. It’s kind of like sharing, but kind of not. It’s a bit more like a library system, where Dom will eventually want to talk about the trees or the Alexander Pope quotes or his dialogue from page 38. This for that. Give and take and reciprocate.

It’s how they work together.

*

Dom’s hair is long and short -- and prickly and soft, and blonde and brown, and anything and everything in between. On any given day, it seems that Dom’s hair is doing fifty different things at the exact same time. And Dom’s got a bathroom full of products, so when Billy stays in his flat, he noses around trying things out.

The pink gel has sparkly bits floating in it, and the blue jar from Aveda makes his hair feel like silk. Dom’s got something to make his hair go left and something completely different to make his hair go right. There are oils and pomades and an enormous amalgamation of nonsense that would put most girls to shame. When Billy’s in the bathroom, trying Dom’s stuff out, he makes certain to smell each and every jar and tube until he finds the one that reminds him the most of Dom. Then he rubs that through his hair and goes out for the night.

*

Billy’s eyes are automatically drawn to the bright pink plaster on Dom’s thumb, because that’s what the plaster is for -- to draw attention to Dom, and it’s working a treat as far as Billy can tell. Yesterday it was Tom and Jerry. The day before it was a Snoopy-theme. Clearly the garish colour of the bandage is Dom’s way of subtly asking for attention without stapling a sign to his forehead, but when Billy opens his mouth to inquire about the plaster, he finds himself fixating on Dom’s hands instead.

Dom has nice hands. Correction: Dom has quite nice hands. His fingers are long and tapered, and when he’s not covering his nails in black varnish, Dom’s nail are quite nice to look at. He doesn’t bite his nails, and when he’s not scribbled all over the backs of his hands, they’re covered in pale, soft hair that catches the fluorescent overhead light. When he’s in the sunlight, the hair on Dom’s arms and hands gives off a golden sheen. It’s like he glows.

Dom’s also got calluses on his palms and tiny scars on his knuckles from who only knows what. Billy doesn’t ask, Dom doesn’t tell, and that works out quite well for them. There’s a certain part of all friendships that requires turning a blind eye, and they’ve managed to do all right otherwise.

So, while Dom plays with the bands around his wrists, Billy focuses somewhere between the table and Dom’s hands. And when he brushes his chopsticks off the table, he makes sure that they slide down the table into Dom’s lap.

*

Dom’s got shirts for every day of the week and two on Sundays. He’s got trainers for every month of the year and pants and trousers enough so that he’ll never have to do the washing again in his life. Dom’s got enough of everything to last him until the world ends and then starts over, so there’s absolutely no reason for him to continually nick Billy’s things. Except that every time Billy goes in Dom’s closet to nick something, he finds something he’d thought he’d lost. Part of their friendship doesn’t really call for explanation -- it’s more about taking what you need when you need it.

*

There are photographs of Billy and Dom all over Dom’s flat, and there are photographs of Dom and Billy all over Billy’s flat. A lot of the photographs are doubles of the same negatives. Billy and Dom also share a lot of the same videos and CDs and DVDs and biscuits for tea. It doesn’t really matter whose flat they’re in as they both seem to contain the same basic things. The idea is that they’re comfortable with each other no matter where they are.

*

Billy’s friendship with Dom is like a high performance car -- when you strip away the gloss and the shine and the all-terrain tyres, what’s left is a good engine that’s made up only of its parts; and Billy and Dom are all about the parts that make up the whole. Their friendship is about the pieces they bring together to make their proverbial car stronger. The biscuits and the wooly hats and the things that go unsaid are all a part of their relationship – they’re the little things make them strong. And like any car, if they begin tinkering around with what works chances are things will be bit rubbish for a bit, but in the end they’ve built something good together. It’s always going to work. Without either one of them, both of them would probably be on the tube, but this isn’t really something they discuss, it just sort of is. Like them. Like their proverbial car. What they make together is better than anything they could do on their own.

-end-

Improv: bandage, chopsticks, oil, float, silk

Beta by

serialkarma and

ethrosdemon