Book One, Chapter 14: At St. Andrews (Part Two of Two)

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Title: At St. Andrews (2 of 2)
Authors: kiltsandlollies and escribo
Characters: Billy, Dominic, Kylie, Sophie, Corin
Rating: R
Word count: 6968
Summary: An after-dinner conversation.
Index
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.

continues from here.

As they all raise their glasses, peace is momentarily restored at the table in the quiet of their cups. Seconds later, Dominic sets into his meal nearly as if it were his last before he remembers his manners and looks self-consciously around the table. It's only Billy's eye he catches, though, and earns a smile in return and an encouraging nod. That smile does funny things to Dominic's insides, kind of turns them inside out for a moment. He thinks again that he really wouldn't protest spending tonight alone with Billy. In fact, it's a scenario he's been giving more and more thought to lately.

"It's good then, Dom. See now. I told you."

"It's fantastic. It tastes like fennel in the sauce, maybe? Definitely rosemary. It's brilliant."

"Do you know about cooking, Dom?" Sophie asks. She's holding her fork towards him, speared lettuce drenched in vinegar aimed at him as she leans forward. "I've a cousin who's a chef, but you don't run across many men who can cook."

"My mum taught me. She was afraid I'd starve with no wife--" Even as the words leave his mouth, Dominic is flushing red enough to be seen even in the dim light of their little corner booth. He returns his attention to his meal. No one seems to notice his discomfort at what he feels his words confess. "She worries, my mum. She taught us both, me and my brother, but Matt was rather hopeless."

"I'm sure it won't be a worry," Kylie says. "I know plenty of girls who're interested, especially in a man who's handy in the kitchen. My dad cooked us brekkie every weekend. How about you, professor? Do you cook?"

"He never cooks," Sophie says with a laugh. She sets down her fork with its uneaten bite and shakes back her long blonde hair. "He always sets us loose on his kitchen when he hosts the postgraduate students. Well-stocked, but hardly anything looks used. Admit it, professor, your mum was sure you'd be married, wasn't she. Didn't worry like Dominic's mum."

"Attention to detail," Billy says carefully, reaching for his glass and tilting his head toward Sophie, though his eyes are still on Dominic. "She's got that, this one, hasn't she?" Turning back to Sophie, Billy nods and shrugs, smiling a far too practiced smile but one that seems to do whatever trick is necessary. "I know how to cook a few things. Just don't have much need to."

"You can't exist on takeaway, professor," Sophie laughs, leaning in slightly. "No one can, not even a first year."

"And I don't," Billy returns, a bit more sharply. "I came to this place at least twice a week while I was teaching here, Sophie. Does this look like takeaway, hmm?" Smiling again, Billy coughs and nods at Kylie. "Kylie. You said you would have been nervous speaking to Professor Faraday. I don't mean to stress you over this, but she's scheduled to be on the panel for your discussion tomorrow. I can assure you she won't eat you alive, and on top of that, may I remind you that you wouldn't be here if I didn't believe your paper worth presenting. So don't be afraid tomorrow, of her or anyone else."

"I--" Kylie's eyes dart from Sophie to Dominic and then back to Billy. "I suppose I should look over my notes tonight, then, instead of--"

"Rubbish," Sophie laughs again. "He just said you'll do alright. We are going out, Kylie. When are you going to be up here again, right?"

"I think you can safely enjoy yourself tonight," Billy says calmly. "Just not too much, if I could just make that suggestion. You don't present until right before lunch."

"But they haven't made the schedule yet." Kylie's voice is a bit higher, desperation and overthinking creeping in. "I don't know that."

"I do." Again Billy reaches for his glass. "You go on at 11:20 and you've got twenty minutes. A breeze, yeah? Fifteen minutes fewer than I had you speak for me." Kylie's face flushes and her shoulders drop, and Billy grins as he swallows his drink and lowers his glass back down to the table. "You're welcome."

Dominic's watched the back and forth avidly, grateful again that Billy's spun the conversation away from Dominic himself for the moment. Sophie seems satisfied enough that she'll still go out tonight with Kylie, the two of them painting the town a medium pink if not perhaps red, and so she leans back in to Kylie, lowering her voice in plot and planning while Dominic finds himself smiling at Billy. "I'm looking forward to my group tomorrow, actually," Dominic says quietly. "It's just--easier when we're in discussion."

Billy nods. "I expect you'll have a lot to add, too. We can talk some more about what you went over today later if you'd like."

"I would," Dominic replies, almost too quickly, but then tempers it. "I don't have a lot of questions or anything. It was just. I enjoyed it."

"Good." Billy waits a beat and then grins. "To think you almost didn't go for this, Dom, the double concentration. That would have been a loss."

Dominic grins and pushes a piece of bread in the meat's juices distractedly. "I guess we'll see. So far it's turning out well. The reading's still--" He glances at Sophie to make sure she's still in conversation with Kylie and not paying attention to him or Billy. "It's hard, sometimes, but I think my notes are getting better, and everything's just ... making sense. Like you said it would."

"Well, don't consider anything I say written in stone, Dom," Billy says quietly. "Unless I'm able to get the stone out and show you, anyway. I'd like to read your thoughts on Deleuze, actually; he should be of interest to you. You might want to add him to your shortlist for your final essays. Plenty to think about there. You could even ask Annie--Professor Faraday--tomorrow for some places to start. I certainly don't have all the answers; never have, really." Billy grins and raises his eyebrows. "Just ask anyone who works with me."

Dominic can't imagine asking another professor about Billy, however much his curiosity might try to make him do so. Even the thought feels like disloyalty. He knows Billy's said it in jest, but Dominic feels at though he and Billy have already shared a good bit of stories, things Billy wouldn't normally share with other students--and maybe not even others who aren't his students. In a way, he takes a lot of pleasure in believing that he knows the man rather than just his teacher. "You've never guided me wrong so far."

"And I hope I never will, Dom."

"Sophie!"

The call comes from several feet away, and all four necks at the table crane in its direction. The graduate student Charles, to whom Billy'd so recently offered advice, squeezes past a tight group of people at the bar and makes his way to their table, a friend in tow behind him. Billy can feel Sophie sitting up a little higher next to him, the pleasure of being remembered and searched for coming off her in gently perfumed waves that make Billy smile a bit in spite of himself across the table at Dom, who laughs a bit, too, but returns his eyes to his plate. Charles nods in brief recognition of Billy, but he's here for Sophie, and his friend, it rapidly becomes clear, is here for Kylie.

"Have you got plans?" Charles asks Sophie after a moment's small talk Billy and Dominic work hard to ignore. "For tonight? Me and Dev, we were thinking we'd hit The Elbow Room before they shut the doors. There's supposed to be some hush-hush gig; Fran Healy doing some solo stuff. It's probably rubbish but we'd thought we'd check it out anyway. Do you want to come?"

"I dunno," Sophie says idly, looking for her mobile in her purse for a second before she looks up again, this time with a brilliant smile. "What d'you say, Kylie?"

"I don't know--" Kylie looks first at Dominic as if he might come to some intervening rescue, and he feels her eyes all over him but is careful not to meet them. It's more than obvious that the invitation's not been extended to him, so Dominic feels a bit bad for Kylie, but not enough to give her reason to stay. Kylie lets out a little breath of frustration, then nods. "Yeah, okay. But not all night, yeah? I'm presenting in the morning."

"Really?" Charles's friend Dev steps forward and speaks for the first time. "So am I. Look, I'll walk you back if it gets on longer than you want--"

"Let's go," Sophie interrupts, and all faces turn back to her just as the smile creases her face again. "Well, we don't want to miss this, right?"

"Definitely not," Charles says firmly. "When are we going to be back here again, yeah?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell her," Sophie laughs, pointing at Kylie. Tilting her head a bit impatiently at Billy now, Sophie raises her eyebrows. "Professor? You don't mind?"

Billy makes a polite show of a cough and folding his napkin as he eases out of the booth to let Sophie pass. Dominic stands too, more in a flurry of movement, and as Kylie turns again toward him he gives her an encouraging grin. "I'll see you in the morning," he says, and Kylie blushes as she nods.

"But you could come with," she says, tugging gently on Dominic's arm again, and he shakes his head.

"I'm good. Really. Look, tell me about it tomorrow." Dominic's relieved enough to feel comfortable squeezing her arm in return, and Kylie waves over her shoulder as she and Sophie depart with Charles and Dev. It takes Dominic a minute to remember to sit back down, and by then Billy's tucking back into his steak with apparent relish, nodding for Dominic to do so as well.

"They didn't even finish," Dominic laughs, looking at Kylie's half-emptied plate beside him, and Billy laughs, too.

"They'll be alright. In any case, we've been shown the shaft, as it were. Might as well face it, Dom; we're meant to be alone." Billy's still laughing, but at the sudden darkness in Dominic's eyes and the flush in his cheeks, Billy swallows and tilts his head, looking around the café at the bustle of servers and diners. "Well, as alone as one can be in a place like this."

Dominic nods in acknowledgment but continues to eat, almost afraid not to, but also far more relaxed now that he and Billy are indeed alone, if not as alone as Dominic might prefer. He can tell Billy's relaxed, too, just from the way he settles back in the booth and stretches before he beckons their waiter back to the table and orders possibly the best sachertorte you'll ever have, Dom, and the man departs.

"You were talking about poetry earlier, before we were interrupted." Billy says after a moment. "That things had--changed, you said? Change is for the most part good, at least when it comes to creativity. I'm not much a fan of change in ordinary life, but I do like to see it in art. Of course, what your tutor thinks of your new work is important, but not nearly as much as your own opinion of it. What are you seeing that's different now, Dom?"

"I'm less, I don't know, timid, I guess. More willing to take chances than I had been."

"Good, good. Gaining confidence in yourself."

Their dessert arrives with coffee they hadn't ordered, but neither Billy nor Dominic turns it down, and they're both occupied for a moment pouring sugar and cream. Dominic watches Billy take his first bite of the cake, focusing on his mouth, on how he enjoys it, before Billy motions with his fork for Dominic to taste it.

"Excellent. Go on, tell me more."

"Just that's it's more concrete now. The details. I think about it more now. About the words I want to use and how I want to use them." For a minute, Dominic is quiet, contemplating what he's said and what he still wants to say. He's nearly overwhelmed by his desire to have Billy really hear and understand. "I'm working for this artist on a special project--"

Billy nods quickly, reaching for his coffee. "The modeling. It's going well, then?"

"Yeah. And he was talking to me about being an artist. Called me--what I do--art, and I'd never really thought about it like that before. It's like it's changed the way I think about what I'm doing. What I'm writing."

"And is this translating into more or less actual writing, Dom?" Billy watches Dominic takes a smaller sip of his own coffee, as if taking his own turn at buying a little time while he considers his answer. "I'm fascinated by this," Billy says, encouraging but genuinely curious, too. "You don't have to tell me any more than you want, but I do want to hear what you can tell me about it."

Dominic nods as he drags the tip of his fork tines through the icing on his cake. "Less, or rather, fewer complete poems, but it feels right when they're finished now. Like, I don't mind people reading them when before I felt, I don't know, embarrassed to have anyone see my work."

"Well, people who can." Billy smiles and leans his chin in his hand. "You write in German, yeah?"

"Mostly."

"It just floors me how you can go back and forth like that," Billy says. "Think of it, Dom; when you're working in a visual medium, art transcends language, yeah? But when the foundation of your art is words--clearly you've got a gift for what you're doing. I've seen improvement in the writing you've done for me, but that's nothing like poetry; not even I could pretend it calls for the same ..." Billy looks for the word. "Heart. That sort of passion. I've written hundreds of thousands of words on philosophy, but as much as I love my work--and I do--give me a camera, and it's something else entirely." Billy takes another large swallow of coffee, and then laughs. "'m no artist, though, not like you and that student. It's good that he saw that in you. It'll show. In the pictures, it should be clear."

"I think the philosophy has helped me, too. Every experience does but yeah, art is different. Modeling is different. His work is amazing."

"So, what you're doing for him. Is it just a personal project, or will it be exhibited?"

Caught with a bite of cake balanced on his fork on the way to his mouth, Dominic is taken a bit off balance by the sudden change in topic. He gives himself a moment to think over his answer by setting his fork down and dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. "It's for an exhibition. The postgrad students each have a showing of their work. The student I'm working for is creating a set of drawings about sexual subcultures. So I, of course, came immediately to mind."

It's only half in jest that Dominic says it, but his nervousness lessens when he catches Billy's thin, curving smile. The apples of Dominic's cheeks are rosy as he plays with the fork resting on the edge of his plate and thinks about the first session he'd had with Gian only a few weeks before. Gian had certainly been persuasive when they'd first met, encouraging him to bring along a friend during the sittings so that he would feel more comfortable. Miranda seemed to think highly of him, so Dominic hadn't bothered. He was still processing that experience, and there have been a few more since.

"Our first sessions have been pretty low key, just photos and sketches. Getting comfortable with one another." It had been Gian's idea to jump into things immediately with a few Polaroids Dominic is hoping won't end up on the Internet. "Next time, though, it's going to be a little more into his subject matter."

"Photos? Really?" Billy faces Dominic again, interest high in his eyes. "I thought it was just drawing, I mean, well, of course he'd have to take a few shots to remember how you're meant to ... pose and such, but--" Billy places his coffee cup on the table and leans back in his chair again. "I think I'd like to see that exhibition."

As soon as the words fall from his lips, Billy's face flushes, and he looks quickly for something else to say. "I like to see what Miranda's arranged every term. D'you know she's brought four national photographers up in the last six years? Obviously she's doing something right. And her oils master class, my god, Dom, you should visit one of her workshops. But I'm sure you know this."

"I've, uh." Dominic's smile goes suddenly shy as he looks down then back up to Billy through his lashes. He wonders if the interest is more than just for Miranda's work. "I've actually been in one of her workshops. The last one."

"Really?" Billy takes a moment to think back on the last workshop Miranda had mentioned, and the realization hits him a fraction of an instant too soon for him to hide his surprise. "The one with--right. Well. It's a little more than just figure drawing, that. 's very brave of you."

"She's fantastic with her students. Like you are. She's always made me really comfortable while making sure her students had what they needed. The experience they needed."

"Miranda's a better teacher than I'll ever be," Billy laughs. "She's fantastic. She sees things you and I just ... wouldn't. Couldn't, really. Still, my god, Dom." Billy's laughter goes strangely higher until he chokes it back. "I don't know that I'd ever be comfortable enough for, for that."

Dominic shrugs a little and smiles again. "The first time I did it--when I modeled--I thought it would be hard to take off the robe but it wasn't. I like it, posing nude. I like being part of other people's art."

"More than creating your own?"

"It's different."

"Sorry, I know. Go on."

"There's a woman who did a painting of my back, like a watercolor almost. 's'amazing. She even got my tattoo, but it was impressionistic. What Gian's doing is really different."

Billy lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his curiosity in a smile. "Dare I ask how?"

"More realistic. More detailed." Dominic pushes his plate away, his cake mostly untouched, and pulls his cup of coffee closer, turns it just so. Lifting it, he finds it mostly empty and wonders when he drank it. He sets it down and sits back in his seat and stretches out his legs. "He usually works in charcoal rather than paints, but is using acrylics at least for this series but he's limiting his palette so that when he paints my eyes or my lips, they'll really stand out. Be bolder."

The waiter's returned, wondering if they'd like more coffee, and after a moment's thought Billy determines to forget the possible impropriety of another drink and asks for scotch instead. It pleases Dominic to hear him order it, to watch as Billy slides back into his side of the bench a little more, settling in. The waiter says, "I'll have those right out," assuming Billy meant one for each of them, and Dominic likes to think that maybe he had.

"Last year, Gian said he had painted women, nudes, and it had garnered him a lot of attention," Dominic continues. "He started to wonder what it was that had earned him all that praise--his work or the women. They were apparently quite beautiful." Dominic chances a look at Billy's face, to see his reaction, but Billy's face is unreadable, his arms crossed over his chest. It's an expression Dominic's seen many times in class, and just as in class, Dominic fights for Billy's approval. "He wanted to see if the response was just to the women, because they'd been pictured so softly, on beds, looking as though they were waiting on their lovers, or if he could have the same response with the opposite subject--a man--me, pictured not soft but rough--hard. Not beautiful."

"Not beautiful--" Again Billy lifts his glass and peers into it for a moment. "It's in the eye of the beholder, though, yeah? There's got to be some ... beauty to them."

"Thank you," Dominic says as he lifts his drink, his rings clinking against the glass. He drinks slowly, his eyes watering and he blinks back the sting, his laugh low and rumbling. He likes the way the drink makes heat pool low in his belly and the feel of his inhibitions sliding away. "But what he's doing isn't supposed to be beautiful. There's no beds with piles of pillows and high count sheets. Just me, on my knees usually, with a sheet of, I don't know, aluminum or something behind me. It's gray and battered, and then he's using leather and more metal. It's ... industrial, almost."

When Dominic pauses, Billy realizes he should say something, anything, but the bells of warning that have been pealing quietly in his head since their conversation turned in this direction are getting louder, drowning out most of the words that first occur to him. "Stark, then."

Dominic nods. "In the beginning, he said he'd thought about asking me to shave my head."

"Really." Billy blinks and releases a little exhale. "That seems a bit ... much. He'd have you suffering for his art, I suppose."

"Something like that." Dominic smiles and takes a drink, thankful for the chill of the glass in his hands. "The project's gone through a lot of revision. Another idea was to have a woman in the scene, kind of a dominatrix, and he did a sketch with his partner standing in. It was three hours of me prostrate with my hands clasped over my head and her foot on my back before he decided it was too pornographic, even though we were both just wearing street clothes. And it was." Dominic laughs, grinning at Billy, making light of it but also very conscious of Billy, of his reactions. Testing the waters, as it were, though he knows that sounds like a terrible cliche. Billy's listening intently, and his face is less impassive than before, but Dominic still can't read exactly what he sees in Billy's eyes and so he pushes on. "The next time he just sketched me standing in front of the screen with my wrists tied together, completely nude, but the ..." Dominic's voice goes softer as he thinks of the word. "The supplication, the give? He wanted to see it in my eyes, like. Instead of being pornographic, it was, I don't know, more intimate, I guess."

Billy doesn't say anything immediately--doesn't even nod, and looks as if he might be holding his breath--and the silence makes Dominic feel as though he hasn't explained it well. As though he's said too much but without putting any meaning behind it, or at least not the meaning Gian would have wanted to express and Dominic had understood. More words tumble from Dominic, the alcohol loosening his tongue if nothing else. "I mean, like you said, there was a beauty to it. My hipbones are too sharp in the sketch, and you can really tell my jaw is," Dominic tilts his head as if illustrating his point. "You know. But he wanted me to just hold my hands out, relaxed, like." Dominic sets his glass down and extends his hands on the table, demonstrating, watching as Billy's eyes follow the movement. "Like I've just asked--not to be freed, yeah? But to have the bonds tightened, to say that I could take it and more. To show myself scraped raw. Not giving myself to a lover but being taken. Not beautiful, because I'm not."

"Of course--" you are. Billy stops himself just in time, his teeth clicking together quietly in surprise at his own thoughts. "Of course," he says again, lower now and soft, and leaving the rest unsaid and hanging in safety. There might be an art to deconstructing this conversation, Billy thinks, but it's not an art he can master tonight, or perhaps for some time. Still, Dominic's looking at him as if he's waiting for some reaction, some kernel of knowledge, approval, or truth, and Billy's mouth works as he tries to give him if not any of those things, then something, something's Dominic earned in return for what he's told Billy--for the trust implied in the telling. Billy leans forward a bit, clasping his hands together on the table as he does at his desk sometimes, too, when the words leave him in his capacity as an advisor.

"D'you know the phrase jolie-laide, Dom? 's French, literally pretty-ugly--I think maybe your artist friend, he's trying to--I don't know, turn that phrase in these pictures. Make a mirror of the work so people can ... see themselves and challenge what they think of some--" Billy frowns a bit and unclenches his hands, letting the fingers of one hand draw down the side of his glass before he takes it up again. "Romantic ideal of beauty, of what we're meant to find attractive or intriguing. I can't--imagine how these pictures of yours will turn out, Dom, but. Look, you're an adult, you must understand what you're doing, what you're ... offering in these pictures, and if you believe in what he's doing and you ... feel it, if you can make sense of it in your head and your heart, then ..." Billy swallows and meets Dominic's eyes, holding that gaze until Billy can feel its heat and chill all at once down his spine. "Then it's art, Dominic; then you've done far more than just been a part of it."

It's Dominic's turn to be silent, and Billy lets out another exhale as he lifts the glass to drain it. He's just setting it down when he hears the sound of his name, and Billy turns to see a man he only vaguely recognizes at first, then recognizes maybe a bit too well. The last time Billy'd seen this particular philosophy professor, he'd discovered that the man had come to occupy both Billy's former job and his former office here at St. Andrews, and Billy can't help feeling unenthused about seeing him again, for those and other reasons he can't think about now, but also relieved by his presence, as it keeps Billy from telling Dominic more, from continuing on a train of thought he never imagined he'd board tonight. Billy pulls a smile from the depths of somewhere tired and dark in his chest and he extends a hand.

"Corin. I thought I'd heard you in the halls."

"Are you up here for the Arché, then?" The man laughs. "I might've been making some noise earlier today, yeah."

"It's not noise when it makes sense." Billy forces his smile to warm a bit. "How've you been? Jens still taking your money hand over fist on the weekends over the footie?"

"Not for much longer. 's my last term up here."

"But you've only just--" Billy stops himself as he thinks back and remembers that in no way can a three-year tenure in a job be defined as only just arrived. He swallows and nods shortly instead. "It's a bit much up here, isn't it. They'll be sorry to see you go."

"No more than they were you." Corin laughs again and then nods Dominic's way. "I see you're still corrupting the youth of the kingdom, Bill, excellent."

Billy has the grace to laugh as he turns his palm toward Dominic. "Dom, this is Corin Edwards. Took m'job right out from under me here--"

"You nearly shoved it in me arms," Corin snorts, but he's already shaking Dominic's hand.

"Dominic Monaghan," Dominic says quietly. He's watched this back and forth just as avidly as he had Billy's other conversations, and it's a relief from the intensity of their own just a moment ago. He wonders at the contrast he sees in Billy now, if maybe the drinks they've shared hadn't made their conversation take on more importance than it actually had. Billy and Professor Edwards have slipped back into their banter, but more quietly now, and Dominic consciously settles back and listens to everything around him in the café rather than try to hear them. He takes enough from just looking at the change in Billy's posture, the set of his shoulders, rising and tightening as he speaks to the other professor. There's history here, Dominic can feel it, but it's uncomfortable or awkward, and when Professor Edwards' eyes flit to Dominic and catch him staring, Dominic blushes fiercely and swallows down the last of his drink.

"You don't miss it here at all, do you, Bill?" Corin leans down, lowering his voice even more.

"The town, yes," Billy says, and tilts his head. "Not so much the school. Baskerville's been good to me, Corin; it's like I can breathe easier. Not so many pairs of eyes and ears--"

Corin raises his eyebrows and grins. "And is that a concern?"

"Tell me a time when it isn't," Billy says quietly. "Don't overthink it, Corin; y'can't stitch two brain cells together when you're drinking, and we both know it."

"Point taken." Corin tilts his glass in Billy's direction. "Still. Don't forget what it is you're meant to be teaching, Bill."

Billy's smile is one he hasn't worn since he'd left St. Andrews, one that makes Corin take half a step back. "I never do."

"Good." Corin squares his shoulders as he stands straight again and looks from Billy to Dominic kindly, almost perversely benevolent, and Billy grits his teeth until he feels Dominic's eyes on him. Billy smiles as if nothing could possibly be amiss, and Corin speaks again. "So. Were you planning to close this place tonight, then?"

Billy shakes his head then ducks it; pretending to feel abashed at his comfort in the café is easier than admitting to that comfort and the desire to stay rather than step outside into the chill of temperature and reality. Billy shakes Corin's hand and wishes him well, promising to try and stop by the man's office before the conference closes, and watches Corin leave with some relief until Dominic shifts on the booth.

Startled, Billy licks his lips and flexes his fingers slightly on the table before he meets Dominic's eyes. "He's right, Dom; we should probably head back. I don't hold up as well as you lot do, not anymore." He catches the attention of the passing waiter, who looks relieved enough that for a moment Billy wonders exactly how long he and Dominic have been in the café and from where those two extra glasses between them came.

Billy stops himself from checking his watch only with some force, and signs off on the check while Dominic leans back in the booth, a smile almost unnaturally calm on his face. When Billy tries to return it, he can feel that his own is nowhere near as comfortable, but Dominic doesn't seem to notice; instead he just reaches with one hand for his jacket while he keeps Billy's stare. And Billy suddenly hates that he has to break that stare; hates even more that he's been caught in one in the first place. Again, though, Dominic makes no show of feeling as unnerved as Billy feels.

Their walk back to the hotel is a slow one, and Billy's grateful for the chill in the air, sobering him a bit if not as much as he might need. Though Billy's feeling more subdued now than in the café, Dominic's conversation is still animated, almost as if to compensate, and Billy finds himself laughing more often than not as they make their way. The sound echoes off the pavement and makes Dominic laugh, too, and once they've reached the hotel, Billy nearly hesitates to open the front door. He does, of course, and after a nod to the desk clerks on duty he shares a silent ride up in the lift to his and Dominic's rooms. In the hallway Billy's thoughts return to much earlier in the evening and a recollection of something that should have occurred to him before now. He laughs a bit, and Dominic turns to him with a smile that makes him look terribly young to Billy's tired eyes.

"What is it?"

"I just--" Billy tilts his head and peers at Dominic carefully. "I thought y'told me once you loved Travis. And you didn't want to go with Sophie and Kylie tonight?"

Dominic shakes his head for a moment, silent but smiling, and then releases a low, throaty laugh before he looks back up at Billy. "They're on tour in America now. I don't know who Sophie and Kylie are seeing, but it's not bloody Fran Healy."

Billy's mouth falls opens a little, and then he's laughing, too. "Dom," he says, half-chiding. "You could've said something--"

"No." Dominic shakes his head again, and his expression turns more serious. "They wouldn't have believed me, and they wanted to go out. I just wanted to--talk, I guess. With you."

There's a longer moment of quiet between them while Billy nods, and then reaches slowly for the handle of the door to his room. "Right, well--"

"I mean, it's alright, yeah?" Dominic asks, his eyes wide but very clear and his hand stretching out as if he might touch Billy's hand before he draws it back, aware of how it might look. Billy nods quickly.

"Absolutely, yeah. Definitely. Look, I thought--" Billy pauses again, wondering what exactly he was about to say. Dominic's expression is expectant now, and Billy blinks as if he's just woken from some perplexing dream.

"I mean the modeling. What I've told you." Dominic shoves his hands in his pockets, worried what else he might do with them if they stand here for too much longer. He knows--feels--that to say or do anything more tonight than what he has already would be a mistake, no matter how much softer around the edges Billy seems now in front of him. Dominic's already pushed the limits of what he feels like he can express, and he has no idea what Billy's processed of what he's been told--what Dominic wants it to mean. "I really do just think of it as art. It's not sexual at all."

"No," Billy shakes his head. "No, of course not. As long as you're comfortable, Dom. As long as you feel it's--right. And the moment you don't--" It's Dominic's turn to hold his breath as Billy's eyes go momentarily steely, a cold green Dominic's never seen before. "You walk away from it, art or no. Do nothing that doesn't feel right to you, Dominic, are we clear?"

Dominic waits Billy out for more, but nothing comes until finally he nods, heat rising back in his cheeks and blurring his vision a little. Billy nods too and relaxes, retreating again into a more appropriate role. "I suppose I'll catch you at the second set of presentations tomorrow, Dom. If we can gather Sophie and Kylie afterward, we might have time for a bite before we have to be back at the station."

Dominic nods, though the idea of another awkward meal with the two girls doesn't thrill him. It'll be fine, he knows; Billy will keep the table's conversation on the subject of what they've learned this weekend, and then if Dominic's lucky, the train ride home will afford a better chance to talk some more with Billy. "That'd be great. I guess ..." Dominic shrugs, but also smiles. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

Billy smiles, but for a moment neither moves. Billy breaks their stare with a ragged sort of laughter, but once he's inside his room and the door's closed behind him, Billy allows his shoulders to drop along with the rest of the limited guard he'd managed to keep up tonight. Toeing off his shoes, he feels strangely dizzy--more than he'd planned to drink, certainly, especially in the company of a student--and from the weight of everything he's absorbed over the last day and night, principally the feeling of coming back to St. Andrews in a position of some authority and distance, able to observe with eyes clearer than ever before what this school can do to and for students and faculty alike.

Not that he's burdened by clarity at the moment. His conversation with Dominic had blurred more than a few lines between them, and now, safe from the keen blue focus of Dominic's eyes, Billy allows himself to simply think about what Dominic's told him in regard to the modeling sessions, but in the next moment reminds himself that he must think twice about acting on any impulse he might feel to learn more. Dominic's work in the art department has nothing to do with his academic life, Billy tells his frowning reflection as he removes his tie in front of the mirror; it's not even in Billy's jurisdiction for comment unless or until the work begins to affect Dominic's marks.

The watch is next to come off, and after he's placed it on the dresser Billy turns away from the mirror and pads back to the bed, landing on it with an indulgent thump and huffing out a tired breath. Everything in him tells Billy to simply go to sleep, to drift off, but there's a battered old science fiction anthology waiting for his attention, and in any case, Billy knows that should he close his eyes now, he'll see behind them little more than images of the things Dominic's told him. As if confirming that knowledge, Billy finds himself dragging one hand slowly down his chest and stomach, just an idle movement, until his fingers rest at his belt, working it just open before Billy shakes himself out of it, pushing his hand through his hair roughly and staring at the ceiling, willing--maybe challenging--other thoughts to top those. He's tired, that's all it is, and it's been months since--since anything, Billy thinks, and swallows against the ugly taste of it. He's tired, and could have used fewer drinks and more appropriate chat. He's tired, and can't be blamed for the workings of his own imagination. He's tired, full stop.

Another chuff of breath, and then Billy turns to his side on the bed, reaching for the hardback book. Without his glasses it takes Billy a moment to focus on the print and even longer to find the plot, but it's not long before Billy's turning again, this time to his stomach, and the book slips from his fingers to the floor, abandoned in exchange for sleep.

It's so quiet on their side of the hotel that the sound of the book hitting the floor in Billy's room startles Dominic in his, and his eyes fly open as he bites back his gasp, afraid that Billy will hear him through the connecting door. Naked and on his side beneath the rough hotel sheets, Dominic's breathing is ragged, forced from his lungs and he turns his face into his pillow. He tries to picture Billy as he'd been for most of the night--relaxed and happy. Dominic was sure he'd been happy. Was positive that Billy's happiness had to have stemmed from feeling relaxed with Dominic, from their being together and able to talk. But it's the last moment with Billy that Dominic keeps replaying: when Billy's mood and expression had turned, when he'd gone quiet and steely there in the hall--possessive, Dominic would have said, had it been anybody else. Had they both been anyone else.

Flipping onto his back, Dominic kicks the sheets away from his body and stretches, wills his erection away but finds it difficult. He takes his hand from his cock, still hard--still needy--and grasps the headboard with both hands. He arches his back and his shoulders into his pillows before he makes an effort to relax. There had been a moment, earlier, when Dominic had thought something simliar. That if he were ten years older or not a student--or at least not Billy's student--that maybe something could have happened. He curses under his breath and into the empty room, and then does so again because it feels as close to good, as much of a release, as he was going to get tonight.

He can't bring himself to finish, even though he's still hard and he aches to just bring himself off fast and hard, messy and dirty and done. It's been like this for too many nights now, with nothing but a sticky hand and a sigh before he sleeps. It's not enough. This has become more than a crush, Dominic knows. It's become something more than he can keep denying to himself and maybe to Billy, too. He wants Billy, but worse, Dominic's beginning to think he needs him. Do nothing that doesn't feel right to you, Dominic, Billy had said. Dominic hears the echo of those words now as he stretches again and bites his lip, fights for sleep and tries to ignore just how right something this wrong can possibly feel.

Comments

[msilverstar]

This is utterly beautiful. I don't remember reading it before, so for me, it fills in a gap in their relationship, and it gives texture and depth to the later section with Billy at the photography exhibit. It makes me all wibbly-happy.

[incline-mod.livejournal.com]

Thank you. This was one of the long unfinished threads that we had and there was a very long section with Kylie and Sophie before they go to the restaurant. Nearly all of part 2 (this part) is new material. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

[random-yayness.livejournal.com]

.... GUH.

Am sorry for the length, but I HAVE to quote this:

"You know. But he wanted me to just hold my hands out, relaxed, like." Dominic sets his glass down and extends his hands on the table, demonstrating, watching as Billy's eyes follow the movement. "Like I've just asked--not to be freed, yeah? But to have the bonds tightened, to say that I could take it and more. To show myself scraped raw. Not giving myself to a lover but being taken. Not beautiful, because I'm not."

"Of course--" you are. Billy stops himself just in time, his teeth clicking together quietly in surprise at his own thoughts. "Of course," he says again, lower now and soft, and leaving the rest unsaid and hanging in safety.

This bit is most possibly one of the most erotic things I've read. Absolutely lovely.

[incline-mod.livejournal.com]

I'm good with length :D We really enjoy knowing what works for the readers. thank you!

[random-yayness.livejournal.com]

LOL You should see some of my comments over to v_and_rc, veritable books sometimes. :D