hackthis_archive | LOTRips

I’m so not impressed with Joss Stone. However, I am very, very entertained by Nellie McKay.

LOTRips
Trainspotting
Inspired by

circe_tigana
DM/BB

17:51 Manchester Piccadilly to Edinburgh 21:17

Lying is a lot like selling property in the Midlands. Not that Dom’s ever worked as a property agent; he can’t imagine going through the bedsit listings in Loot, nevermind all the house business with escrow and lenders and houses to let and customers. He’d do his nut in an hour, two hours tops -- but he’s getting sidetracked in the details. The window is cool against his cheek when he shifts in his seat and presses against it.

There’s always a gap between the seat and the window, and Dom can’t even pretend he’s asleep properly because he was thinking about lying. No, the other kind of lying, and it’s not that he’s been lying a lot recently, but he’s been thinking a lot about the ones he does tell. Not the little white lies, but the enormous porkie pie whoppers. Except it’s all very complicated because Dom does like Ali -- just not for his Bills. And he’s perfectly happy in California -- it’s just very different. The point in all this though, is that Dom does think that lying is a lot like trying to sell life on an estate as a perpetual holiday in Brighton: it all depends on point of view. It’s impossible to sell a lie that you don’t believe in yourself; it’s like trying to sell a property you don’t believe has a least a little redeeming value.

22:00 Edinburgh to Glasgow (Queen Street) 22:52

There’s a specific moment during sex where everything becomes incoherent and blurry. It’s not actually just a moment, it’s more of a crossover to another side of what’s happening. Dom knows it all sounds very Star Trek, but it’s not, not really. It’s that moment when people stop being polite and start taking what they want, and he’s been watching too much MTV. But it all comes back to sex eventually, and this moment he means is that one where it stops being ‘Am I doing this right?’ and ‘What if he/she/they don’t like it’ and turns into ‘I’m going to get off *now* -- fuck everyone else.’ That’s the line Dom means, and once that line is crossed everything else becomes completely unimportant -- every thought, every noise, every person that exists outside that particular moment in time just falls away. That’s one of the greatest things about sex, and sharing it with someone is amazing -- but Dom’s never had that experience with Billy, and he can’t help but be a bit jealous of the couple shagging in the toilet on the train.

Maybe this visit to Billy will be the one where everything changes for them.

07:00 Glasgow to London (King’s Cross) 12:43

There are little lines in the corners of Billy’s mouth that crease up when he’s irritated, and Dom can hear Billy muttering to himself about the ease of just taking ‘the sodding plane instead of all this nonsense.’ Plus, Billy’s got Dom’s hat pulled down so far over his face that when he blinks, Dom can see his eyelashes brushing against the knit edge. Maybe the train wasn’t the most time efficient solution, but Dom likes the train. He likes the confines of the carriage and stopping up and down the country. He never gets to see England anymore, and point of view is everything. Seeing the sunrise in Scotland and watching the day progress through England is something he’ll always remember in the back of his mind. It’s peaceful and inspiring, and Dom’s got an entire journal entry written on the inside of his left forearm.

The sky moves from orange to pink to blue, and the world looks so different when Dom’s with Billy that sometimes Dom feels like he’s someone somewhere else altogether. Billy makes Dom feel like he can do anything at any time; he believes in Dom. It’s not that Dom doesn’t believe in himself, it’s just that it’s not something he’s ever heard from someone else, and this means more coming from Billy than it would coming from anyone else. Most things do. This is why Dom insisted they take the train, so that Dom could finally talk about all those other things that mean more to Dom when he hears them from Billy’s mouth. Except that now that they’re together, neither one of them seems inclined to talk.

15:00 London (St. Pancreas) to Manchester 18:23

There are wet leaves on the line in Peterborough, and they’ll be stranded on a train just outside Milton Keynes forever. That’s what Milton Keynes is for – being stranded. It’s a physical manifestation of Dom’s brain, because he can’t go forward and he can’t go back. Trains aren’t made to go in reverse, and Dom doesn’t want to go home to his mum, he wants to go to Glasgow with Billy. Except Dom doesn’t quite know how to tell Billy this, especially when he’s curled up next to Dom, sound asleep, and there’s a bloke across the aisle singing to his daughter like Billy sometimes sings to Dom. She’s a tiny thing, this bloke’s daughter, and she can’t be more than three or four. All Dom can hear over the clacking of the car is bits of whatever this guy’s crooning , something about ‘if it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad,’ and there’s a part of Dom that’s not sure this guy is really that wrong.

19:59 Manchester to Glasgow 23:38

There’s a café at the station that serves hot chocolate with enormous pink marshmallows and whipped cream, and Dom and Billy stand around a table with their heads down, sipping from oversized mugs and doing their best not to make eye contact with anyone. ‘Hobbits at the train station!’ isn’t really what Dom wants to see on the cover of the Manchester Evening News for tomorrow’s tea, and there’s an arse-numbing breeze blowing through the station. If the train hadn’t been delayed then Billy would already be on his way home, but since God and Buddha and whomever else saw fit to throw wet leaves on the train tracks, Dom gets a few more minutes with Billy by his side.

There are children shrieking and running about, and Dom can hear the trains pulling in and out of the station. There are deep scratches on the surface of the table that Dom can’t stop pawing at, and his cup rattles when he sets it back in its saucer. He doesn’t have to look up to know that Billy’s eyes are on him, and when Billy says he’ll be right back, Dom makes a noncommittal noise. He’s heard that one before, but Billy’s not one to lie, and Dom can feel the headache starting just above his right ear. He pinches the bridge of his nose as though that’s going to solve something in his life.

He only realises that Billy’s come back when a small square of white paper slides into his line of vision. For a moment Dom thinks it’s someone looking for an autograph, except he’d thought the hat and the scarf had kept him pretty well hidden, and it’s only when he looks closer and realises that the paper is a train ticket that he looks up and sees sharp green eyes watching him carefully. He’s just opening his mouth to speak when Billy reaches out and flips over the ticket, and there’s a question scrawled on the back in Billy’s slanting handwriting. Dom blinks several times and he can feel his palms dampening, even though the table underneath them is dry. He’s been waiting forever for Billy to ask him this question and he searches his pockets for a biro to jot down his own reply.

I’ll go home with you anytime.

-end

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: Alexi Murdoch ‘Orange Sky’