PIQUED: The Kink List

a. First time.

“I didn’t think it would be so…” Dom stopped, partly to recover his breath, partly to search for the word.

“Good?” Billy licked Dom’s collarbone.

“No. I knew it would be good.”

“Did you?” Billy’s eyes flicked up to Dom’s face, stayed there. “I didn’t. First-time sex… first time with each other and first time with a man…” He made a face, shuddered, laughed. “I thought it might be awful.”

“But it’s me,” Dom protested, grinning. “And you,” he added to forestall the smack Billy’s hand was poised to deliver.

“So what didn’t you think it would be so?” Billy wrinkled his nose, lowered his hand. Rubbed Dom’s skin thoughtfully. “That made no sense. You’ve broken my brain.”

“Long as the rest of you still works…” Dom reached, grasped, squeezed, and Billy gasped and landed his blow, an open-handed slap on Dom’s bare bottom, loud in the quiet bedroom.

“You didn’t think it would be so…?” Billy patted Dom’s arse apologetically.


Billy looked at the sticky mess between them and smiled. “I don’t seem to mind.”

“Nope.” Dom kissed Billy’s chin, jaw, ear. “Me either.”

“Wanna clean up?”

Dom stretched. “Nah. Just get you messy again in ten minutes.”


b. Billy is straight until he meets Dom.

“I’m too old for this,” Billy told Ian, and Ian shrugged.

“I’d have thought so, but there are more things under the sun, William, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” He smiled and Billy aimed a sardonic eye at him.

“Spare me, Ian, though I’d love to hear your Shakespeare any other time.” He took a drink of water, looking across the set to where Dom stood beside Peter. “What do you think I should do?”

Ian put a hand on his shoulder, blew a bit of beard from his mouth and made a face. “Kiss him, you fool.”


c. Rimming.

“Right there,” Billy panted, water hissing somewhere behind, filling the air with steam and white noise. Dom hummed and pressed with his tongue. Billy gripped his erection, not so much stroking as squeezing, arrhythmic and distracted. Dom’s fingers tightened on Billy’s hipbone; his other hand curled around Billy’s ankle, thumb sliding up and down, pulling the wet hair on his leg in a small circle just as Dom’s tongue circled and probed, wicked thrusts or soft lapping. His chin scraped the delicate skin of Billy’s balls and the Scot sighed and rolled his forehead to one side against the tile, stomach muscles clenching, free hand splayed flat against the wall. Dom’s hand on his hip slid around, finger and thumb curving to frame the base of Billy’s cock, pressing in and down as his tongue jabbed suddenly inward. Billy’s climax, when it came, startled him; his body trembled, hand tightening as his dick throbbed and spurted onto the wall. “Anh – ” he said, and when the last aftershocks faded, when his whole body lay pasted to the cool, clammy tile and his vision cleared, Dom pulled back, kissing the curve of Billy’s bottom and then the small of his back.


d. Innocent physical contact turns suddenly and surprisingly sexual (i.e., back rubs).

“I’m bored.”

Billy didn’t look up from his paperback.

“Come play Cup with me.”

“No, thank you.” Billy turned the page, shifting in the camp chair.

“Tig? Elijah’s right over there…”

“Nope. Good book.”

Dom frowned. “Biiiills,” he wheedled. “Come on. Entertain me.” He tugged at a corkscrew Pippin curl and Billy slapped his hand away, never looking up. “Billy…”

“Bugger off, yeah?”

“Bugger you,” Dom retorted, piqued, and he climbed into Billy’s lap and shoved his fingers into Billy’s ribs – damn bathrobe over the costume made tickling something you had to really work for – and Billy shrieked and bucked and flailed and the chair went over backward and suddenly Dom was on top of Billy, yes, but on the ground, not in the chair, and Billy’s nose was a half-inch from Dom’s, which would make his mouth an inch away at most and Billy’s eyes were wide open and green, the chestnut curls framing his face and his lips parted in surprise and Dom leaned down and oh my god I can’t believe I’m doing this he kissed Billy. Kissed him, square on the mouth, and then kept on kissing him oh my god because oh my god Billy’s lashes trembled and then his eyes closed and then his hands came up (no book, ha!) and oh my god he kissed Dom back.

“Not bored anymore,” Dom said into Billy’s mouth an eternity later. He didn’t want to open his eyes, but finally did because he figured he just… should.

Smiling. Billy, smiling, and he opened his eyes an instant after Dom and looked at him, then over his shoulder. His face grew pink(er) and he closed his eyes for a second. “Neither are they, I don’t think,” he whispered, and Dom lifted his head, looked around. Saw half the crew and all of the cast grinning at them and buried his head in Billy’s neck, grinning like an idiot.


e. Hurt/comfort.

“M’cold.” Dom knew it was ridiculous, felt sweat slicking his body from head to toe and suspected his face was the colour of a tomato (it’ll finally match the shape of my nose, he thought sadly), but he pulled the duvet higher and shivered.

“Poor baby,” Billy said. A minute or two later he handed Dom a china cup. “Here. Tea and whisky and honey. Nice and hot.”

Dom sat up to drink and then lay back again, still shuddering, though he did feel somewhat warmer. “Thanks,” he said, teeth clenched, and Billy sat beside him on the bed, stroking his hair.

“The paracetamol should kick in soon,” Billy said. “When you get a fever, you do it right, love.”

Dom closed his eyes, ducked his head into Billy’s palm. “Just wish I c’d get warm,” he murmured. “Stupid virus.”

Rustling sounds, and suddenly Billy was crawling under the covers, wrapping his arms around Dom, tucking the younger man’s head beneath his chin. “Let’s see if I can help,” he said.

Dom relaxed into the warmth of his body. “I’ll get you sick, too.”

“Well.” Billy kissed Dom’s damp hair. “You’ll be better by then, and I’ll expect chicken soup.”


f. Costume fic.

“Fucking motherfucking…” Dom muttered, then, “Ha!” The buttons popped open and he shoved Merry’s trousers down.

“No time to take this off,” Billy said, snapping the strap of the fat suit across Dom’s back. “Doesn’t cover anything essential, anyway.” One hand snaked around and he squeezed Dom’s erection.

“Protects my tum from the table,” Dom snickered, leaning over, pulling Billy close. The chuckle trailed into a sigh as Billy slid one slick finger into him, then two. “Mmm, that’s enough, hurry.”

“So impatient,” Billy murmured; an instant later his fingers were replaced by his cock. Dom exhaled and relaxed, letting Billy in. “So beautiful.” Billy’s voice cracked and he began to move, a quick rhythm that he matched with his right hand on Dom’s hard-on. His chest pressed to Dom’s back and Dom closed his eyes and rocked back against Billy so each thrust ended with the light slap of Billy’s balls against Dom’s arse. “Dom,” Billy said a few minutes later: soft, urgent.

“Yeah, soon, soon,” Dom rasped; he shoved his fist into his mouth to muffle his cries.

“Jesus – close – ” Billy’s grip on Dom tightened. “You first,” he managed, “come for me, Dommie.” Dom did, forehead pressed hard to the table, teeth clenched on his own skin, toes inside the latex prosthetics flexing and curling helplessly as he shuddered and arched. “There it is – ” Billy groaned and his rhythm went to hell, “here it is – ” He came in four rough, bucking thrusts, so Dom’s forehead skidded a few inches further onto the table and the air left his lungs in a great rush, smashed against the table’s edge. He laughed dizzily and turned his head, laying his cheek to the cool plastic.

“Told you that fatsuit wasn’t so bad,” Billy panted, air puffing across Dom’s shoulderblade.

“I thought I told you.”

“Either way.” Billy kissed Dom’s back and Dom reached back again to pat Billy’s bare thigh.


g. Outdoor sex.

Billy’s knees ached slightly but the grass was forgiving; he shifted and leaned forward, taking Dom deeper into his mouth, relaxing his throat, thinking about yawning like he’d read, thinking about his voice teachers telling him to raise the soft palate at the very back of the roof of his mouth. Thinking about Dom’s scent and taste – sweat and pre-come and soap, the musty tang of arousal and sex; about the feel of his fingers in Billy’s hair, fingertips fluttering across Billy’s scalp, always careful; about the small sounds Dom made, the half-words that he spoke, the low noises that rumbled in the back of his throat.

Billy didn’t think about whether any other hikers would come up on them on the trail, or about how ridiculous they must look – Dom fully dressed but for the shorts wrinkled around his boots and Billy crouched before him, two fingers pressing determinedly into his perineum and head bobbing quickly up and down. Billy didn’t think about whether someone might be watching right now, or whether his knees were getting muddy, or whether that tickle on his elbow might be a spider just waiting to gnaw on him. He certainly didn’t think about gagging, and when Dom finally came – Billy’s jaw had started aching along with his knees – Billy didn’t think about choking. He just swallowed twice and then drew back, breathing hard.

Dom blinked at the blue sky through the branches of the oak tree propping him up and smiled beatifically. “So that’s the new thing you learned,” he said eventually.

Billy stood, tugging Dom’s shorts up as he did. “Just call me Deep Throat Boyd from now on.”

Dom pulled him close for a kiss. “I’m calling you that on live national television,” he promised. “I may ask you to demonstrate for the audience at home.”

“I only perform in outdoor arenas,” Billy said primly.

Dom eyed him. “Will you do it in the bedroom if I open the windows?”

“In winter you can even just put a camping catalogue on the night stand,” Billy conceded. “I’m a generous man.”

Dom kissed him again, slow and searching and deep. “You certainly are.”


h. Billy and Dom getting caught in the act.


“Oh shit oh fuck – clothes would be good – ”

“They’re over – fuck! There they are – ”

“Thank you – ”


“Does he actually want to know?”

“No, Dom, I’m pretty sure he knows.”


“You’ve got the words in the wrong order, mate – ”


“Oh for Chrissake, Elijah.”


“Fine, fine, we’re leaving. See y’tomorrow.”


“Wonder what he was so upset about.”

“Who knows. Fucking Yanks.”

“We didn’t even get to the messy part.”

“Wanna go…?”

“…Get to the messy part? Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Race you to the car.”


j. Talky sex.

The first time, neither said much. “Does that…?” and “Is that…?” ended Billy’s store of conversation; Dom answered enthusiastically (“Oh fuck yes“), then quieted. In nights after, Billy discovered Dom made plenty of noise, but it was muddy, garbled – half-words that trailed into moans, cut off. Three weeks after that first time, Billy shoved Dom against the wall.

“Talk to me,” he said, breathing scotch and lust across Dom’s mouth. “Tell me what to do.”

“Yeah…?” Dom smiled, a glimmering curve of teeth in the dark.

“Yeah.” And Billy dropped to his knees and did exactly as he was told.


k. Performance masturbation.

“I’m going to win,” Billy said. His hand worked his cock as it had for several minutes already, sure and steady and unceasing, as they’d agreed, his green eyes zeroed in on Dom. “There’s no way you’re patient enough.”

“The one contest where being old and slow will help you out,” Dom taunted, matching Billy’s leisurely speed.

Billy snorted. “Age has its advantages, and you’ve never complained about my speed before, going or… coming.” He smiled sweetly. “Thought you liked it when I took my time. Thought you liked it when I fucked you really sweet and deep.” His hand tightened and slowed, but he kept it moving. “Love the way you feel around me, Dommie. Love how you moan when I fuck you.”

Dom’s breath stuttered and then sped, as did his hand. “That’s not exactly fair, is it?”

“Never said we couldn’t talk.” Billy licked his lips. “You usually enjoy it, I thought.”

“Fuck you, Billy.”

Billy’s eyes closed. “Oh god, I like that, too.” He hitched a sigh and allowed his hand to move faster. “Love how you feel on me. In me – oh, fuck.” He inhaled, heard the soft slap of Dom’s hand from the bed. “Love it when you get carried away, slam into me so hard I don’t know whether to come or cry.”

Bill – ” Dom’s voice held agonised laughter, his breathing rapid.

“Love when you come in me, Dom.” Billy’s left hand slipped between his thighs, massaged the loose skin of his scrotum, pressed. “Love how you crash into me and shake and how good it feels when you bite me on the neck or the shoulder, how warm it feels when you come deep inside me, so tight, so hot – ”

“Ah, fuck, fuck – ”

Billy opened his eyes and squeezed the base of his cock like a vise, watching through blurry eyes as Dom came, sweaty and flushed, fingers clenched on his cock and the bedspread, spurting over his hand as his eyes closed and his thighs trembled, spine arched.

Billy was up and across the room in an instant, pushing Dom down, straddling him, holding his legs back and up and reaching for the lube, stuffed under a pillow. “Age has its advantages,” Billy murmured again, squeezing the jelly carelessly onto his cock, thrusting forward into Dom’s open, willing body.

Dom blinked up at him and smiled wickedly. “So does youth.”


l. Exhibitionism.

“Open your eyes and look, Billy,” Dom panted, hips pistoning into Billy’s body. He threaded his fingers through Billy’s hair and yanked, forcing his head up. “Want you to see – unh – see how fucking hot you look ohhhhhh…” His voice trailed off into a moan and Billy’s eyes opened. He stared at the vivid image in the glass, stared at Dom, fucking him as he bent over the vanity, at his own open mouth and Dom’s flushed, sweaty face. Billy’s head jerked back as Dom’s fist clenched. “Coming I’m coming I’m oh fuck Jesus Billy – ” His knuckles scraped Billy’s scalp as he bucked against him.

Dom shuddered to a halt, gasping; his fingers went lax and slid from Billy’s head, down his shoulder to the satiny wood of the bureau. “How’d it look?” he asked, sagging against Billy’s slick back.

“Good,” Billy said. “C’mere.” He stood up and dragged Dom across the room.

Thirty seconds later he stood before the full-length wall mirror, hands wound into Dom’s hair as the younger man knelt at his feet with Billy thrusting into his mouth. “Open your eyes and look, Dominic,” Billy panted.


m. Hairwashing.

“Proper hair care,” said Dom, “is very important.” He pulled Billy back, the water sloshing around them, almost-but-not-quite slopping over the rim of the tub. “Now just sit still and let me.”

“Let you what?” Billy said, but he wasn’t arguing. Was, in fact, handing Dom the shampoo bottle. Dom opened it blind, Billy’s head blocking his view of his own hands, and poured a dollop into his palm.

“Sit up a bit.” Billy obeyed, and Dom began rubbing the glop into Billy’s hair. “One part of a proper haircare regime is scalp massage,” Dom instructed him. “Scalp massage stimulates the hair follicles and leads to stronger, healthier hair.” His fingertips pressed little circles into Billy’s scalp, following the curve from his nape up the back of his skull; Billy sat hunched over, arms lax in the water, head flopping blissfully forward as Dom scritched through his hair. Dom fell silent, fingers never ceasing their hypnotic movement. Billy might have been asleep, but for the tiny shudders that shivered through him every once in a while.

“Close your eyes,” Dom murmured, scooping water into a plastic cup he plucked off the rim of the tub. As he poured the water over Billy’s sudsy hair, he ran his fingers through the fine, silky strands again and again, pushing the soap down and out while Billy breathed quietly and kept his head bent. “All done.”

Billy sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes, and then slid down, turning as he went, until he faced Dom, chin on Dom’s chest, knees bent and feet out of the water, kicking lazily near the spigot. “Hello,” he smiled.

“Well hello,” Dom replied, sliding his hands under the water and down Billy’s back. “Feeling good?”

“Feeling very… stimulated.”

Dom grinned. “Wait’ll you see what I massage next.”

Billy slithered buoyantly forward, rubbing his belly over Dom’s cock. “I thought maybe I owed you a massage, actually.”

“Oh,” Dom said weakly, closing his eyes, slipping down in the water an inch or two. “Well, if you insist.”


n. Either Billy or Dom being looped on drugs.

Dom pulled Billy close, face flushed, and stared at him. Right into his eyes, and Billy forced himself to be still, forced his giggles down. It wasn’t the weirdest thing Dom had done in the last six hours. No, that honour might have to go to staring at the crown moldings for thirty-five minutes straight, singing “Fixing a Hole” under his breath. Or possibly to the moment when, an hour ago, Dom had suddenly demanded that Billy strip, because his clothes were bent on choking him to death. Dom, of course, had been naked since five minutes after the acid took effect.

“Your eyes,” Dom said.

Billy took a deep breath. “That’s them, all right.”

“They’re very… green.” Dom tilted his head. His hands on Billy’s bare shoulders were warm, almost hot, and Billy had to quash a sudden urge to kiss Dom. Or fuck him. Something. This whole being-the-ground-control thing with a naked, gorgeous man had its downside. “Very green.”

“Erm. Thank you.” Dom lifted one hand, moved his finger tentatively toward Billy’s eye. Billy gently grasped Dom’s finger and lowered it. “Not for touching, though.”

“But I need to – ” Dom moved even closer, his breath huffing across Billy’s lips. “Can I paint you?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “Sure.” Dom dragged him through the house, to the back room where he kept his paints and canvases, the floor covered with dropcloths, the only furniture a sheet-draped futon, several easels, and a small, rickety bureau filled with supplies. “Sit here,” Dom said, pushing Billy onto the futon. The linen was soft on Billy’s bare arse and back, and he reclined comfortably, watching Dom to see what he’d do. Billy wondered uneasily if any of the paints were toxic. What if Dom decided to eat them?

Dom dug through the bureau, grabbing tubes of acrylic paint, squeezing globs onto a handy piece of cardboard, demented and hurried.

A moment later he was back, pushing Billy further back, climbing onto him, straddling him with the makeshift pallet on the sofa beside them both.

“What are you doing?” Billy asked, as Dom dipped his index finger into a virulent puddle of green and drew a stripe along Billy’s rib. “Dom!

He circled Billy’s nipple. “Painting you,” Dom replied. The tip of his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth and Billy shivered, ticklish and nervous and horny as hell. “Be still.”


o. Clumsy, imperfect sex.
(What might possibly happen when there’s a full glass of water on the headboard.
Not that I am speaking from experience or anything. At ALL.)

“AUGH!” Billy sputtered and cursed, and Dom rolled off him, laughing hysterically.

“Your face,” he wheezed, clutching at his belly; his cock, slick and shining and hard, bobbed between his drawn-up thighs as he rolled around on the bed. “S-s-sorry!”

Billy sat up, grabbing for the sheet to wipe his dripping face and head, throwing the errant water cup across the room. “FUCK!” he shouted, laughter catching up to shock and humiliation, mouth twitching as he tried to choke back his incipient giggles. “Fucking – water – ”

Dom gasped for breath, took a look at Billy’s wet, on-end hair and the puddle on the pillow and mattress and shrieked with laughter again.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Billy snorted. He shoved Dom, hard, and finally laughed when his lover hit the floor.


p. Playboy Billy (in the suit, drinking Scotch, all unflappable and dominant and totally sexy).

They make a pretty picture, Dom thinks; he opens his eyes and glances sideways at the mirror. What would a stranger see?

The anteroom of a high-class toilet: marble counter and leather couch, rich red carpeting and spotless mirrors. Dom: on the carpet, on his knees, leaning forward. Artfully mussed hair, shiny black shoes with their dusty soles turned to the ceiling and the wool-clad curve of his back, bent as his mouth slides up and down. Billy: leaning comfortably back on that couch, legs spread, feet firm and flat on the red pile. Billy and his impeccable pinstripes, impeccable except for the placket of his trousers, unzipped and open, exposing what Dom is busily licking, sucking, working with hand and mouth.

“Make sure you swallow this time,” Billy murmurs; his fingers twist briefly, sharply in Dom’s hair and Dom mmm‘s his submission. “Not going to mess up my suit just because you’re a fucking slut, Dominic.” Dom hums again; hears the clink of ice as Billy takes a drink and the muted chime of glass on marble. A moment later Billy’s hands are back – unyielding against Dom’s skull as he pushes up and up and Dom chokes and then swallows the warm, musky spurt into his throat – swallows twice, three times, breathing deeply through his nose.

Dom sits up, the back of his hand dragged slowly across his mouth. He doesn’t look at Billy. Looks into the mirror to his right, instead, as he tucks Billy away in his trousers again. Zips him up, leans forward to kiss Billy’s now-decent crotch lightly, chastely.

“My turn?” Dom is hopeful, but not really surprised when Billy raises one eyebrow and shakes his head.

Dom is still on his knees when Billy unlocks the door and walks out without a backward look.


q. Gender fuck.

“What the hell are those?”

“Labrador puppies, Bill.” Dom rolled his eyes, turning away from the tempting sight of Billy naked, scrubbing at his damp hair with a towel. “They’re panties. Dumbass.” Pure Elijah, that, and Dom grimaced to himself.

“And you’re wearing them… why?”

“New costume girl got all freaked out that I don’t wear kecks.”

“Well, those should certainly calm her down.”

He snickered. “S’what I’m hoping.”

“I kind of like them on you.”

Dom twisted his head to look at Billy. Dusty lashes hid the green of his eyes as he stared downward; Dom couldn’t tell if the colour in Billy’s cheeks was leftover warmth from his shower or something else.

“Why, Billy, you filthy pervert. … You want to touch them, don’t you?”


“Go on.” What the hell. Eight o’clock call.

A pause, and then Billy’s small hand, warm, slipping over the fabric, over the curve of Dom’s bum.

“They’re all… slidey. And… feminine.”

“You want me to be your girlfriend, Bill?” Dom snickered and wriggled his arse.

“Fuck. …Yeah. Maybe.”

Dom pitched his voice higher, softened it. Kept his back turned and leaned down, putting his hands on the bed, presenting. “Touch me more.” He glanced down, saw his cock, clearly outlined against the fabric: hardening quickly.

“I… Okay.” Billy’s hand stroked over the satin and Dom shuddered when one finger pressed inward, between his cheeks. A finger, over satin, rubbing lightly over his hole.

“Jesus… Spank me.”

“Wh – what?”

“Spank me, Billy. Please.” A tentative little smack and Dom let his knees buckle, laid himself over the edge of the high bed. “Harder.” Breathy, sweet. Another smack, loud in the quiet room, and Dom rocked forward into the mattress, his cock pressed tight for an instant. “Yes – ”

“Have you – ” Billy stopped; Dom heard him swallow and then heard the unmistakable sound of Bill’s hand on his cock. “Have you been a bad girl?”

“No,” Dom protested, choking back nervous laughter. Fuck. Stay in the moment.

Billy’s palm landed hard this time, tingling through the silk. “You have,” he said. He crowded Dom’s legs; Dom dropped his head to the surface of the bed and peered back, between his thighs. He could see Billy’s right hand, working his cock, and when Billy’s left hand landed sharply for a fourth time, Dom’s high-pitched yelp wasn’t feigned.

“No – ” Dom said. “I’ve been good – ”

“Lying little bitch.” Smack. “Fucking whore in your – ” smack “fucking knickers – ” Billy’s hand caressing Dom’s bottom again, sliding over the satin, petting gently as Dom whimpered. Gone, then, and Dom tensed – Smack. “You like it, don’t you?” Smack. “Like being spanked like the slut you are.” Smack. And all through it, the accompaniment of skin on skin, Billy working his cock hard and fast as he slapped Dom’s satin-clad ass again and again.

Dom cried out wordlessly with every stinging blow, voice high, fists curled into the bedsheets, grinding himself down. When Billy’s hand came down without a slap Dom cried out anyway, frightened and panting for it, but Billy stroked over the panties, ran the pad of one finger over Dom’s hole again, the flimsy material bunching up, sticking to the sweat in the cleft of Dom’s arse.

“Look at you,” Billy growled. “Such a whore.” Smack. “Gonna fuckin’ – ” smack “come on your arse, you fuckin’ – anh – ” smack “little – ” the slaps slowed and Billy’s breath came fast and hard and hoarse as his hand fisted the satin, yanking it up tight against Dom’s balls.

Dom sobbed out the word yes again and again, heard Billy moan and felt knees jostle the backs of his thighs. A moment later Dom felt the warm splatter of Billy’s come over his back and arse; Billy’s left fist pulled harder and harder at the panties until Dom writhed in pleasurable agony, the seams digging into the sensitive skin of his perineum and up his crack as he ground himself into the mattress.

“I need to – ” Dom gasped. He rolled over, felt Billy’s nerveless fingers release the knickers. “Down,” Dom commanded harshly, and Billy fell heavily to his knees. Dom grabbed his head and pulled him forward, fumbled his prick out of the panties and fisted himself roughly three, four, five times before he shoved forward – Billy’s jaw dropped in response to Dom’s half-intelligible snarl and Dom came hard into the warm wet of Billy’s slack mouth, Billy leaning forward at last, red lips tightening around Dom’s shaft, tongue working so Dom shuddered and spurted again, Billy swallowing and swallowing.

Finished, Dom pulled out of Billy’s mouth and slid bonelessly to the floor beside him, gasping for breath. He sprawled and grinned at Billy, who grinned fiercely back before his expression softened. They leaned forward at the same moment to kiss, tender lips and the tastes of salt and desire mingling between their tongues.

“Never done that before,” Dom said, leaning back again. Billy groaned and shifted off his heels, settling to his bare bum with a thump.

“You’ve never asked me to spank you before.” He waggled his eyebrows and wiped his mouth fastidiously. “Or worn purple satin knickers before… for me, anyway.” He smirked. “Think I ruined ’em for your little prank on the costume girl, though.”

“S’okay.” Dom yawned. “It came in a pack of three. Guess I’ll have to wear the blue.”

Billy’s eyebrow rose again. “You have two more pairs?”

Dom eyed him. “I’m saving the pink for you, Bill.” His smile was slow, and warm, and more than a little wicked.

Billy shrugged and climbed slowly to his feet, knees popping as he straightened his legs. “Fuck. …That seems fair.” He held a hand out for Dom. “God bless late calls. We both need a shower, now.”

“Mmm.” Dom grunted as Billy heaved him upright, then tilted forward, looping his arms around Billy’s waist, propping his chin on one sweaty shoulder. “And god bless satin knickers.”

“Amen,” Billy intoned solemnly.


r. Truth or dare.

Billy arched upward, a strangled moan forcing itself past his lips as he came hard into Dom’s mouth.

Dom sucked and swallowed, then slid off and crawled up to lie atop Billy on the sofa. “Well, that was fun.” A nervous smirk flickered across his features.

“You cheated,” Billy panted, grinning back, sprawled beneath him.

“How’d I do that?” Dom bumped Billy’s nose with his own and kissed him.

“Mm. I don’t think it’s fair, giving me a dare that changes the answer to the truth question I didn’t want to answer.”

Dom shifted and smiled wickedly, his denim-clad erection nudging Billy’s bare thigh. “You could’ve just admitted you’d never got a blowjob from a bloke.”

Billy’s hands wandered to Dom’s hair, playing with the fine strands. “My way turned out better, though.”

“Mmm.” Dom kissed him again. “For me, too.” His eyes spoke volumes: unguarded, unafraid.

“So Dom.” Billy slid his thigh in and up, pressing solidly into Dom’s crotch. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” Dom’s eyes sparkled.

“Ever gotten a blow job from… your best mate?”

Dom’s smirk made an encore appearance. “Ask me again in fifteen minutes.”

Billy smiled. “Oh, I think I can ask sooner than that.”


s. Billy or Dom accidentally catching a glimpse of the other naked/
having sex with someone else/wanking and then getting notions.

It wasn’t that Dom had never thought of Billy in a sexual way before. He’d thought of Billy in a sexual way approximately 2.6 seconds after meeting him. And since then, he’d thought of Billy in many, many sexual ways (situations, roles, positions, oh my yes), but it had always been in the realm of the unattainable – as useful to Dom’s actual sex life as daydreaming about the weathergirl on Channel Four, or (he snorted to himself) Sean Bean.

Right now Dom was thinking of Billy in a sexual way, but the only words attached were Well, well, well. Because Billy’s hands looked quite at home on Elijah’s bottom, and though both men were laughing, they were also kissing, grinding together on the dance floor, all grinning teeth and quick flash of wet pink tongues.

And if Elijah could kiss Billy (my Pippin, Dom thought, almost indignantly), then Dom could sure as hell kiss Billy, and he put his beer down and began pushing his way through bodies, on his way to turning unattainable into mine.


t. For some reason, B/D pretend to be gay or kiss on a bet and it sparks something
and that eventually leads to weirdness and feelings and sex.

“Ah, fuck.”

“What, what’s the matter?”

“Marianne just walked in, she keeps asking me out.”

“She’s six feet tall.”

“I know.”

“And weird.”

“I know.” Billy took a drink and kept his back rigidly to the door of the pub.

“And she has that high-pitched weird voice.”

“Thank you, Dom, I know.”

“You’re saying you don’t think it’s a match made in heaven, then, Bills?”

Billy shot him a dirty look. “Wanker.”

“Here she comes.”

“Fuck.” Billy hissed it, guilty irritation written all over his pixie face.

“Aw, don’t worry,” Dom whispered. “I’ll save you.”

“Please don’t – ”

“Hi, Billy.”

Billy started to turn to her, trying to balance disinterest and courtesy in his expression, but Dom hijacked the movement, pulling him abruptly sideways, smashing his mouth to Billy’s and sliding one hand into his back pocket.

Mmph – ” Billy protested, eyes wide open. Dom looked right back and winked with the eye turned away from Marianne, and Billy nearly choked with laughter but instead closed his eyes and let Dom finish kissing him.

“Sorry,” Dom said as soon as he pulled away, and Billy nearly snickered and said Not at all, but just in time he realised Dom was talking to Marianne. “Didn’t see you there. How are you, Marianne?”

She looked simultaneously gobsmacked and diffident. “I’m all right. Just wanted to, to say hi to you guys.”

“Hi,” Billy said, aware that his face was ruby red, that he had a somewhat silly smile pasted crookedly across his face, that Dom’s right hand was still stuffed into his back pocket.

“Hi,” Dom said, and swiped his left hand across his mouth casually. “Nice to see you.”

“You, too. So. I’ll just – ” She nodded and smiled and sidled away to an empty spot along the counter, waving for the bartender’s attention.

Billy faced Dom, quite close, because of Dom’s arm curving around him. “You great dirty slut.” He grinned.

“Anything for a friend.” Dom’s face flushed with delight and he chewed at his lower lip.

“Thank you. And you can remove your hand from my arse anytime, now,” Billy said.

Dom’s smile didn’t change at all, and he stayed where he was. “I don’t want to.”

Billy blinked.

“But I will if you want me to,” Dom added.

“I…” Billy thought about it for a second. “Well. Not just yet, then.”

“Yeah?” Dom leaned closer, as though listening, his eyes darting anxiously over Billy’s face. Still smiling a little, though.

“Aye. Anything for a friend.” Billy tilted his head. He smiled at Dom, then turned toward the bar, settling his side comfortably, warmly, into Dom’s body as he leaned on the wooden counter.

“Oh, goodie,” Dom said faintly, and he squeezed a little, not looking at Billy, grinning.


u. Mpreg.

Oooph – Bill, what’re you – Christ Jesus!”

“I missed you.”

“I – ah – um, I can tell ouchwatchitplease – ahhh, much better – ”


“…Where’d all this come – oh – from, anyway?”

“I told you. Hold still, let’s get these off. I missed you, is all.”

“Christ! But I’ve only been gone three days. And when I left you said you were glad to see me go and then you, oooh, that feels nice, mmm.”

“Then I what? Mmm. Feels nice from this end, too.”

“…Then you ran to the bathroom and threw up some more.”

“Oh. Well. Yeah, I’ve been a little edgy lately, I know. Plus all the being sick.”

“Billy, you nearly ripped my head off when I used your razor last week.”

“Mmm. Don’t piss me off again, Dominic. …Is this good?”

“Fuck yes it’s – ah – ah – ohmygod.”


“Oh god Bill – Bill – I missed this, oh god oh god oh god oh yeah – ”


[incomprehensible gurgling sound]

“So you’re feeling better, then.”

“Yeah. Now c’mon, my turn, Dom.”

“You’re sure?”

“What’re you waiting for?”

“You to turn green and run off to puke for a few hours.”

“Not gonna happen. I woke up yesterday and my libido was back, and – ”


“And the morning sickness was gone.”

“Well, thank fuck for the second trimester.”

“Amen. Now stop talking and get to work.”

“My pleasure, love.”


v. Billy and Dom are trapped somewhere together, perhaps in danger, and the adrenaline
and weirdness lead to revelations and feelings and sex. Special kisses to Pip for inspiration and reassurance.

“Were you scared?”

Stupid bint, Dom thought, but he smiled gamely. “Yeah, ‘course we were.”

“He was,” Billy said. “I’m far too manly.”

Dom nodded seriously. “S’true, Bill was a rock – once we’d got his trousers changed for something clean and dry.”

“Oi, you promised y’wouldn’t say anything about that.” Billy shoved him and he shoved back and the interviewer glittered happily at them as they tussled and then came to rest again, tucked thigh to thigh on the wee sofa, grinning.

“Did you ever think perhaps help wouldn’t arrive in time?”

“Ah thought I’d have to eat him,” Billy said, jerking his thumb sidewise at Dom.

“…I was going to offer an arm, first,” Dom replied.

“As if that’d do,” Billy said.

“Oh, I see we’re almost out of time,” the reporter said, and Dom thought thank fuck but tried to look properly attentive as she asked the last question. “So, Billy, Dom – did being trapped together for two days in that cabin, no electricity, no food – ”

“We had seven granola bars,” Billy interjected.

” – no running water, no way to tell anyone where you were – did it change either of you?”

They looked at one another. Billy raised an eyebrow, Dom cocked his head. They looked back at the interviewer at the same moment.

“Not really,” Dom said first. “Maybe made me appreciate what I have.”

“Absolutely,” Billy said. “Clean pants.”

“Maybe learned what I have that I didn’t know I had.” Dom smiled cheerfully, meaninglessly, at the camera.

“Clean pants,” Billy repeated, wearing his most innocent silly grin.

“There you go.” Dom patted his leg.

The interview over, they made their way through the maze of back corridors and dark hallways behind the set. “I can’t believe you said you thought you’d have to eat me,” Dom hissed into Billy’s ear. “I thought I was going to have a coronary right there.”

“A coronary or a hard-on?” Billy grinned and pulled Dom into their dressing room, locking the door behind them with a decided little snick.

“Both,” Dom said. “C’mere, I wanna appreciate you some more.”

This ficlet inspired an accompanying story, Seven Granola Bars.


w. Amnesia fic.

The first face he saw when he woke was that of a stranger. Worried, whoever he was, pale face against the pale backdrop of a hospital room. Shadowy blue circles under his eyes, and somehow familiar, despite the fact that Billy was sure he didn’t know the young man.

“How d’you feel?” the lad asked, sitting forward in the hard hospital chair.

Billy thought about it, but that hurt. He moved his head to look around, but that hurt too. So: “My head hurts,” he said.

“Oh god, poor Billy.” The man – dammit, where had Billy seen that face? – lifted a cup, held a straw to Billy’s mouth. “You sound dry.”

Billy sipped – flat, cool water. “Thank you.” He examined the youth. “Have I hurt myself, then?” Maybe he’d been in an accident – a car accident? Maybe this boy had been there, too, or caused it – it would explain why he was here, with his large grey eyes, and his crooked jaw and scared, soft mouth. Billy tried, again, to place the big ears and snub nose and peculiarly nice features.

“Were you hurt?” The lad had a nice voice, too, though it had gone a bit squeaky for a moment there. “You scared everyone, you’ve been out of it for two days, not really waking up or knowing where you were. Your sister’s out of her mind.”

Margaret – why wasn’t she here? “Where is she?” Billy would need to reassure her. Need to tell her he was fine – or would be, if this bloody headache would leave him be.

“She’s coming,” said the boy. He went quiet, then, the cup of water set aside, long-fingered hands plucking nervously at the edge of the sheet, thigh jiggling where he sat. Billy studied the lowered lashes, the thin, angular frame. Where, where had he seen him before?


The young man looked up.

“You were on that detective show, weren’t you?”

Billy smiled, pleased with himself for remembering.

And this ficlet inspired a follow-up, Set Down my Angel Shoes.


x. Blue-collar Monaboyd with aches and pains and domesticity.

Home at four-thirty, and the winter day was already fading into night as Billy stepped through the door. He tossed the post and his gloves onto the table by the entry and flipped on a lamp.

“Dom,” he said softly, crossing to kneel by the settee, stroking his mate’s hair back gently. “M’home.” Dom snuffled and turned toward him and Billy pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Mmm. Hey.” Dom’s eyes stayed stubbornly closed, but he reached for Billy, pulling clumsily until Billy laughed.

“Hold on, let me take m’coat off, alright?” Coat and hat and scarf and shoes and Billy climbed gingerly onto the sofa as Dom wriggled backward into the cushions, opening his arms and holding the blanket up, gathering Billy close until they were tucked together mostly comfortably: Dom’s face shoved into Billy’s neck and heavy limbs wrapped around him, warming him far better than the gas heat. “Mmm. How long you been sleeping?”

“Dunno. Time is it?” Dom’s breath was humid against Billy’s skin, and he pressed his boxer-clad hips lazily into Billy’s pelvis.

“Four-thirty, more or less.” Bill kiss the crown of Dom’s head. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Six.” Dom mmm‘d again. “How’re your hands?”

“Okay. Not bad today.”

“When you gonna see a doctor about that?”

Billy smiled and pinched Dom’s bottom. “When you get changed to the lunch shift.”

Dom’s protest was muffled by Bill’s neck, but he lifted his head to speak more clearly. “Sharon said they’d see about it at the end of the month. So?” He raised one eyebrow and Billy chuckled.

“You’ve been just waiting for that, haven’t you?”

Dom shrugged, a twitch of shoulder and expression, and Billy kissed him again, on the mouth this time, a slow, soft press of lips opening to breath and tongues. The kiss stopped as naturally as it had begun, and Dom tucked his head back into the crook of Billy’s neck.

“Just want you to stop hurting,” he mumbled.

“I know.” Billy breathed softly into his hair. “Let’s get us showered, hmm?”


y. The money shot.

When Dom came home he found Billy on the couch under a blanket.

“Whatcha doing?” Dom asked, standing in the doorway grinning, and Billy turned as pink as a rose.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Investigation revealed that Billy was naked under the blanket, and had certainly been playing with himself, and possibly looking at porn, as the laptop computer was closed on the floor, half-slid under the couch, and Billy was very very hard. Dom kicked off his shoes and trousers and pulled his shirt off. Then he pulled the blanket completely off Billy and knelt to inspect his erection closely.

“Quit it,” Billy said, and he giggled. Dom didn’t bother to answer that, he just mouthed Billy’s balls and then licked up his shaft, kissing a little along the way.

“What were you thinking about?” Dom asked, with his mouth against Billy’s hard red prick and his eyes on Billy’s rosy face. Dom’s hand had snuck down to grip his own hard-on.

Billy squirmed and pushed his hips toward Dom’s face. He pulled one leg up, opening his thighs, and his hand slid down his stomach, past Dom’s mouth, to cup his balls. Dom pulled back a little to watch as Billy’s fingers slid further down and back, as he pressed at his own arsehole just a little. “This,” Billy said, half-embarrassed, half-desperate. “Being fucked.”

It wasn’t often that Billy went quite so bottomy, and Dom felt the urge to roll him over and fuck him right there on the couch. His hole was wet, slick with lube or spit or something, and when Billy’s fingers – two of them, and Dom swallowed hastily – disappeared inside, they came back out wet and shining.

Then again, bottomy Billy was so very much fun that Dom couldn’t quite bear to make it so easy. Bottomy Billy could be pushed, and generally brought out toppy Dom. “What do you want?” Dom asked, stroking himself down where Billy couldn’t see, below his line of sight. “You want me to fuck you in the arse?”

“Yeah,” Billy said. He pulled his leg up further, resting it over the back of the sofa. “Right now.”

“No.” Dom got up and knelt carefully over Billy’s chest, holding the back of the couch with one hand for balance. “I’m gonna come on your face.”

“What?” Billy squeaked and tried to move, but Dom sat on his sternum, his cock bumping Billy’s chin. “But I want to be fucked!”

Dom shook his head and raised himself a little, began fisting his cock quickly. “No, you’ll come too fast that way,” he said. “And I wanna come on your face.”

Billy’s expression flickered through frustration to doubt to want. “Come in my mouth?”

“All over your mouth,” Dom said. He reached forward and grabbed Billy’s hair, pulling his head back roughly – the arm of the couch stopped it going far but his chin tipped up, his neck arched. “All over your pretty face.”

Billy moaned and Dom felt his arm begin to move, rubbing the inside of Dom’s thigh. He knew Billy was stroking himself, too, and he liked it. “That’s good, baby,” Dom purred. “But don’t come.”

“But I need to, Dom.” Billy’s eyes closed, he turned his face from side to side, pressing his head up into Dom’s hand. “I’ve been playing for a long time!”

“Don’t.” Dom let his hair go with a warning shake and fucked his own fist faster, harder. “Jesus, Bill –” he grunted, panting.

Billy’s mouth opened as his eyes squeezed shut more tightly. “God, please,” he whined, his voice going tight and high. Dom was already shockingly close to his own orgasm, his balls drawn up and needy, heat pooling in his belly. “I’m gonna come, Dom,” Billy gasped.

Dom slapped Billy’s cheek, a stinging smack that left a perfect red handprint; Billy yelped and his eyes opened wide. “Not yet, dammit,” Dom growled but the slap had made Billy more desperate, if anything; his mouth was open, breath coming in fast, hard little gasps as he stared at Dom, hips jerking up into his grip.

But that handprint was like a target and Dom was so close – “Gonna come on your face now, Bill,” Dom snarled, and Billy’s whole face scrunched up with frustration.

“In my mouth!” he tried to demand, but Dom was already coming, yelling and shaking with it and spurting all over Billy’s cheek and mouth and chin. Billy whined and lunged forward and up, licking away the last strings of sticky stuff, his tongue sliding across the head of Dom’s cock even as Dom squeezed and a few more droplets welled up.

Billy trembled, crying out at the injustice of it all: “I wanted to taste it, Dom, fuck, you fucking fucker – ”

Dom slid bonelessly off Billy to kneel on the floor beside him again; he leaned over and licked his come off Billy’s cheek and then kissed him, letting Billy suck his tongue desperately. He repeated the motion, kissing and soothing Billy’s bright red cheek along the way. Finally Billy was damp and sticky and clean from neck to nose, kissing Dom contentedly, working his own cock slowly as his other hand pressed the back of Dom’s skull, holding him close as Billy licked the inside of Dom’s mouth, as he searched for his taste in the wet, dark crevices beneath Dom’s tongue and above it and around it.

“Me now,” Billy murmured into Dom’s mouth and Dom laughed.

“Alright, you were good.” He pinched Billy’s nipple lightly, then twisted it until Billy writhed and whined.

“Dom, c’mon! I’ve been waiting for this forever.” Billy grabbed Dom’s hand and put it on his cock. “But you can’t fuck me,” he added sadly, and Dom smiled.

“Get ’em nice and wet,” he said, pushing the fingers of his other hand into Billy’s mouth, and Billy grinned and he did.

Dom fucked Billy with three fingers, kneeling beside him and shoving them in so deep and fast and hard his wrists ached, but Billy yelled for more, working his cock frantically, until Dom finally slapped him again. “Come, goddammit it,” Dom yelled, and Billy wailed and did, arching his back right off the cushions, face clenched as he shook and came so hard Dom thought he’d have a heart attack.

He sank back onto the couch, gasping. Dom lunged upward and began kissing and nuzzling his cheek immediately. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” he whispered, though he knew Billy was. “Okay, okay Billy?”

Billy panted for a minute more, but his eyes were open, sliding sideways to gleam at Dom as his lips curved upward. “I’m good,” he said finally. “You’re good. I liked it.”

Dom smiled and kissed him slowly, lingeringly. Then he began licking Billy clean, and this time he didn’t share.


z. Billy or Dom is sad or vulnerable and the other one comforts him.

“I used to be a functional adult,” Billy said on the fourth day he spent in bed. Dom almost didn’t hear him – he was in the bathroom, flossing his teeth and probably leaving food flecks on the mirror, a thought that gave Billy a little stab of nausea.

“Uht?” Running water and the noisy sound of Dom rinsing and spitting and then he appeared in the doorway. “What did you say?”

Billy pulled the covers over his head. “I said I used to be a functional adult,” he repeated in the dark, but not loudly. He knew Dom would just insist he say it again and again until he could hear it, but now Billy wished (perversely) that he hadn’t said it. Wished he’d stuck with fuck you and leave me alone and get the fuck out of my house: Phrases he was good at, phrases he’d perfected over the past three days.

Sure enough, here came Dom, pulling the duvet up sticking his great stupid wonky ugly annoying face into Billy’s comfy little cocoon of misery. “What did you say?”

Billy blinked, and thought about telling Dom to fuck off again, but he couldn’t do it. Suddenly he couldn’t do any of it anymore, he was too exhausted to be angry. “I said I’m really really sad,” he said, and Dom came crawling in, under, invading. The bed shook with his weight and his elbows and knees banged Billy and Billy’s eyes filled with tired tears and Dom had him, was holding him tight like no one else ever did anymore, just Dom. Just Dom.

“You’re also really really smelly,” Dom said, and he smashed Billy’s face into his neck and squeezed Billy’s whole body so hard Billy thought he might suffocate.

Worse ways to go, he thought, and he rubbed his wet face on Dom’s t-shirt and sucked in a shaky breath. “I know.”

“Whyn’t you lay here and cry like a girl for a while and then you can get up and shower and maybe eat a little something.” Dom rocked Billy gently and kissed his hair, and Billy took Dom’s advice.