inclineoftrees | The one where Dom acts on his crush.

The one where Dom acts on his crush.

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One.
Billy supposes it’s the way Dominic moves. Languid is the word that comes to mind, although he desperately wishes words that make him think of Dominic's lithe body moving and mewling beneath him wouldn’t spring to mind so easily.

Lithe.

Dammit. Dominic is a student and this line of thought completely unethical, he reminds himself. Focus on the lecture, which is hard because Dominic has just slipped off his sandals and stretched out his legs, sliding down in his seat and giving him a look that burns. Billy quite forgets what was so interesting about existentialism in the first place.

Two.
Ever since he’d taken his first philosophy course, Dominic has nurtured this crush—sought Boyd out, volunteered for projects, visited during office hours—anything to get close.

And he has learned many things. Not much philosophy, but fascinating things nonetheless. Things like knowing the good Professor only stumbles through a lecture when he feels nervous and, more importantly, what unnerves him. Dominic likes to push against the line of propriety that Boyd maintains.

Last year, and it would be a shame, he decides, if his crush comes to nothing. Stretching in his seat, he watches, amused, as Boyd stops mid-sentence.

Three.
Billy dismisses the class early, berating himself for being so easily distracted. He turns his back to the departing students, scrubbing a little too hard at his own barely legible handwriting from the blackboard.

“Professor Boyd?”

The eraser goes flying from his hand at the sound of his name. He doesn’t dare turn around, knows what he would see. Young Dominic Monaghan: jeans barely resting on his hips, tiny star tattoos on his foot, trendy stubble on his cheeks and sex in his eyes.

He kneels down, fumbling for the eraser, attempting to hide—well, whatever needs to be hidden.

Four.
Dominic smiles when the eraser goes flying but the professor on his knees stifles all thoughts of humor. How easy it would be to just pounce…

But, no. That isn’t the plan. The plan involves seduction. Reciprocation. A bed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wondered if maybe I could come to your office again to talk about—" What? The ethics of sleeping with students? Boyd stands up and Dominic inches closer. He can now plainly see why class had been abruptly cancelled. Dominic smiles in a manner he hopes feigns innocence. “To talk.”

Screw the plan.

Five.
“Em.” Synapses. Neurons. Impulses. Impulses that can be overcome. Now, focus, he chides himself. “Em.”

Dominic’s innocent smile is now quite predatory. The eraser drops again and Billy sags against the blackboard, using the chalk tray to hold himself upright.

“Now isn’t a good time.” There. He’d acted the professional. God, why is the boy moving closer?

“I think now is a very good time.”

Billy dares to look up, meaning to be stern, but there is the problem of a warm mouth on his own and the words ringing through his head like a siren, 'this is a student!'

Six.
Billy gives a half-hearted struggle before pulling Dominic closer, the kiss becoming more frenzied. Pinning Billy against the blackboard, Dominic feels the rush of triumph.

“Dr. Boyd,” Dominic mumbles as his mouth seeks the flesh right below Billy’s ear.

“Don’t call me that.” Billy bites back his words as Dominic’s hand creeps lower. He struggles to regain control, holding back a groan. “Stop. This is madness.”

“You want me.”

“You’re a student.”

“My last year.”

“You’re still my student.”

“Yours.”

“Not what I meant.”

Dominic smiles because even as Dr. Boyd—Billy—argues, his hands have inched underneath Dominic’s shirt.

Seven.
Dominic’s skin is hot, like Billy knew it would be, and his body thin and hard. His shoulder blades jut out sharply and Billy traces his fingertips along the edges. He wants so much to see them. Kiss them.

The sound of a zipper brings him back to reality.

Billy opens his eyes, shaking his head in an effort to clear the haze he felt has settled over his mind. He can see the empty lecture hall over Dominic’s shoulder, the chairs scattered from the exodus of students only a few moments ago.

“Not here. We can’t do this here.”

Eight.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Bend me over a desk. Give me an--” Dominic slides his hand into Billy’s trousers before whispering, “oral examination.”

“Dominic--” Billy’s voice is a warning that shatters Dominic’s name like a polysyllabic kaleidoscope. A warning that is ignored as Dominic roughly turns him towards the board and pins his arms behind his back. “Or is this what you want. To be taken.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Billy draws in a ragged breath.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“If I wanted to take you here--”

“Please. If we’re caught…”

“You would obey.”

Nine.
Dominic’s voice is low and rough and feels like steel against his skin. Billy knows he will do whatever Dominic asks of him and wonders at this sudden need to please. The humiliation of being caught in an empty classroom while being fucked by a student seems nothing next to his need of having Dominic continue his seduction. He would obey; there is no other option. “I would.”

As he speaks the word, it’s over. Dominic releases him, turns him around and begins dusting chalk from his shirt, straightening his clothes.

“I said I would.”

“You said not here, Billy.”

Ten.
Billy’s cheeks flush red. A fucking mind game and he fell for it. He knocks Dominic’s hands from their task and pushes him away, trying to think of something to say that would cut as deeply. He feels exposed and dirty and a little more than foolish. “Don’t play with me. I can’t—"

“—You can, and you will take whatever I decide to give you.” Suddenly close, Dominic cradles Billy’s face between his hands, stroking his thumb over Billy’s lips. “I know what you want better than you think. Trust me. Go back to your office and wait.”

Eleven.
“No.”

“What?” Dominic drops his hands and stares in disbelief.

“I don’t think you know what I want at all, young Dominic, but I’m quite willing to show you.” Moving fast, Billy twists around and pushes Dominic against the blackboard. Hard.

“You seem fond of playing games. Let me teach you another.”

“Billy?”

“Professor Boyd. Say it.”

“Professor—“ Dominic’s words were cut off as Billy presses against him, demanding another kiss. When Billy pushes away, Dominic sags against the board, his knees giving under his weight.

Twelve.
“You’re good, lad, and I have to admit I’m sorely tempted.” Billy runs his hand down the tight line of Dominic’s body, letting his hand come to rest on Dominic's hip, dipping his fingertips just below the waistband. “But I don’t think you’re quite ready for the responsibility.”

“You could teach me.” Dominic’s voice was slightly breathless, eyes hooded.

“Aye. But I know what kind of student you are. Inattentive. Impatient.” Billy steps away leaving Dominic against the board while he gathers his things. “Tell me,” he says conversationally, “what would you have done had I gone to my office?”

Thirteen.

“Whatever you wanted me to.” By the professor’s single raised eyebrow, Dominic knows this is the wrong answer. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “I would have fucked you. I would have had you on your couch. I would have begged you to fuck me.”

“And is that what you want, Dominic? A brief interlude in my office. A fulfillment of a boy’s wet dream?”

Dominic shakes his head, his hand creeping between his thighs to rub at his cock through his jeans. “I want to belong to you, professor. I want you to want me back. I need you.”

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Dominic measures Billy’s words, trying not to misunderstand again, and can’t help but find hope in them.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I just… I want…” He wants to ask if this means they can do this again, wants to let Billy know that if this is all they have then it will be enough but fears pushing.

Dominic runs his hands over Billy’s arms and shoulders, pulling him a little closer. “This is what I wanted. You didn’t hurt me. I like...” He suddenly feel bashful saying this, but the fear is gone now that he knows Billy wants him as well, and he wants Billy to understand, to know this wasn't his first time. "It was perfect. Perfect. I can... You can do whatever you'd like with me." He looks up now, hoping Billy understands his meaning.

"Don't say that ..." Billy sighs, but he is smiling. "You have no idea what I could do to you." Billy lets his hands travel up to Dominic's hair, and he pulls Dominic gently up to sitting, Billy still straddling his lap.

"You were so good," Billy whispers in Dominic's ear before he kisses him. "You have ... an amazing body, Dominic, and the most perfect eyes." Billy runs his fingers over Dominic's eyelids, and his voice deepens. "The things I could teach you, lad. The things you could teach me." Billy's eyes flit to the clock on the opposite wall, and he sighs again. He can barely move, and he's almost certain that Dominic is in no shape to leave just yet either. But it's late, and Billy knows they have to leave the building soon. Already they've taken an enormous risk doing this in Billy's office.

This part is harder. Billy's unsure what he should do now. Oh, of course, he chould calmly suggest that Dominic be on his way, that they never speak of this again, that they never see each other outside of class. But what has just happened is the culmination of months of wanting on both their parts, and Billy needs to know that he's done more than just fulfill a fantasy.

Billy's hands, now running slowly and peacefully up and down the sides of Dominic's chest, graze over rib bones, and finally Billy has an idea.

"Are you hungry, Dominic?" Billy asks gently, hopefully. "May I—would you like to get something to eat?"

Dominic rests his head against Billy’s shoulder as he talks, content to be petted and kissed. He hopes that they won’t move too soon, that this moment will last a little longer but then Billy is suggesting food. Nodding his head, he dares to press a kiss against Billy’s neck. A date, he thinks, but doesn’t chance saying it aloud, not even to joke but he doesn’t bother hiding his grin as Billy pulls away, searching for clothes.

Standing up, Dominic grabs some tissues from Billy’s desk, attempting to clean himself off some. He looks at the things strewn across Billy’s desk, knowing already what he’ll find there from his many previous visits but suddenly everything about the office has new meaning and he wants to memorize it all. He still is not sure that Billy will allow him to come here again. Then he sees it: a volume of German poetry that Dominic had thought he lost ages ago, tucked away on a bookshelf near Billy’s desk.

Dropping the tissues into the waste bin, Dominic stretches to pluck the book off the shelf. He opens it and sees his own handwriting where he had tried to translate his favorite poems, places where he had tried to write his own—his cheeks tingeing pink slightly as he remembers that some of these were about Billy though, he thinks with some relief, he never penned Billy’s name anywhere in the book. Still, he knows that Billy could probably have identified himself in some of the lines if he had bothered to read them.

“Where did you find…” Dominic turns towards Billy, holding the thin book in his hand. Billy, dressed only in his trousers, is watching him with an expression that Dominic can’t read. “I thought I lost it a long time ago. I remember the last time I had it I had been writing in it during your class. I was afraid…” He looks up, a little hopeful, his voice soft. “Did you read them? Mine, I mean.”

Billy watches Dominic carefully from the corner of his eye, hoping the lad is telling the truth: that he’s not hurt, that this frantic, slightly frightening lovemaking was indeed what he wanted. When Dominic takes the tissues from his desk, Billy almost winces. It seems so ... So dirty, so imperfect, so messy, when Billy could have done everything so much more gently. So much better. Smarter. Kinder, Billy hisses to himself.

He can still hear Dominic’s voice in his ears, crying out his name. He is no longer just the professor, just Professor Boyd. Dominic has called him “Billy,” and Billy wonders if he will do so unconsciously in class. The thought makes him twitch slightly, so he brushes it away. Now he is entranced by the play of the sunset’s light on Dominic’s body as he stretches and cleans himself up. Dominic’s skin is darker than Billy’s, and in places rather marked up, but he is also strong and, yes, lithe. The word makes Billy smile again.

But then Blly’s face flushes the moment he sees Dominic reach for the little book of poetry. Billy had found it months ago, left behind after class and almost kicked to his feet when a passing student scurried through the aisle on her way out of class. He’d automatically flipped through the first several pages, trying to decipher whose book it was, but it quickly became obvious that it belonged to Dominic Monaghan.

Billy knows he should have returned it immediately—for all he knew it could have been a textbook, and at the prices the bookstore charges, it would have been cruel to force Dominic to purchase another—but then Dominic never came to ask about a lost book or to claim it after having seen it in Billy’s office. But of course Billy hadn’t really left it out to be seen anyway.

Dominic is waiting for a response, and Billy feels like he is floundering, a fish on dry land now that he’s been caught out.

“I don’t speak or read any German,” Billy says softly, trying to look away. “I did ... I confess I read some of your translations. And a few of your ... originals, I suppose?” He leans down to pick up Dominic’s shirt and hand it over. “I don’t have much of an eye for poetry, but they were very ... evocative. And good,” he adds, quickly. “Some are very good.”

Billy reaches for his own shirt now, pulling it on with an efficiency that seems terribly inappropriate given the circumstances. He tries to slow his hands, but they only end up shaking more. Billy takes a deep breath and gathers his tie from the floor now, holding it loosely between his hands.

“The one about ... the writer and his words, Dominic ...” Billy whispers, still playing with the tie. “Is that meant to be—what were you thinking while you wrote that?”

Dominic had put the small book on the edge of Billy's desk as he dressed, not wanting this to end but Billy's already standing dressed, his tie in his hands. Dominic pulls his jeans up, takes his shirt from Billy and slides it over his head. It's almost as if nothing has happened.

He clutches the small book to his chest, running his fingers over the smooth red paper covering. He'd discovered it in a tiny used bookshop during the last holidays spent visiting relatives in Berlin. He remembers reading, finding, much to his delight, that they were love poems and then had spent hours hiding from his family and trying to translate the words.

His own poems had come later, written in the margins. He flips to the one Billy asks about, keeping his head down so that Billy can't see his face. "It's about you, Billy. They're almost all about you. That's why I was afraid..."

Dominic moves to stand in front of Billy, offering the book. "I always thought you would understand. It's why I didn't ask for it, didn't look for it when I lost it. I hoped that you had found it, kept it safe. I thought that... even if you weren't interested in me... like this, like what we..." Dominic chances to look into Billy's eyes, his own filled with hope. He holds his breath, his voice a whisper. "That you would understand."

Dominic's so close now, inches away from Billy, and Billy finds himself leaning back against the desk again, his hands braced against the wood to take his weight. Dominic has confirmed Billy's suspicions in every possible way this afternoon, and Billy is confused, alarmed, gratified and deliriously happy all at once.

"I understand," he says, taking the book gently from Dominic's hand. The words come much too quickly, and he feels his face flush up bright and hot. "Oh, God." Billy slumps a bit more on the desk, and runs one hand through his hair. Now that the adrenaline has left his body, Billy finds himself exhausted by all of today's revelations. He rests the book on his desk and takes a deep inhale before he speaks, slowly and softly at first, then getting more frenzied.

"I don't take this sort of thing lightly, Dominic. I'm not one of those professors who'll fuck anything that shows a sign of interest. You've just ... Christ, Dominic, you've undone me, you and your poetry and your arguments and your attentions ... And then today—did you wake up thinking you'd have me today? That I would have you? How do you get to that place, lad? How d'you wait so long? How d'you come into my classroom for the last year and play me so well, every time, and only now do you—"

Billy bites off his last words and reaches for Dominic's face, pulling him into a hard, bruising kiss. Billy's teeth and tongue ravage Dominic's mouth mercilessly until Billy stops to take a breath.

"My young philosopher poet," Billy whispers, his tongue darting out along Dominic's jaw. "You have no idea what you've done." Billy breathes, warm and wet, on Dominic's throat as he reaches back for the book of poetry. "What you're doing." He places the book back into Dominic's hands. "What you will do."

And then Billy kisses Dominic again, softer than before, before he walks around Dominic, settles himself so that his body is pressing lightly into Dominic's back and thighs and his hands rest on Dominic's shoulder and in his hair. "Read for me," Billy sighs. "The short one. Page 73, Dominic. Read for me, and then we'll go."

Dominic rests for a moment in Billy’s embrace before opening the cover of the book. He smoothes his hand over the page then turns to the requested page. The poem, a song actually, is one of his favorites, a song he knew from his grandmother long before finding the book but had been pleased to see it here. He smiles shyly that this should be the one Billy picks. He reads the German in a softly singing lilt

Wenn ich ein Vöglein wär
und auch zwei Flüglein hätt,
flög ich zu dir.
Weils aber nicht kann sein,
bleib ich allhier.
Bin ich gleich weit von dir,
bin doch im Schlaf bei dir
und red mit dir.
Wenn ich erwachen tu,
bin ich allein.
Es vergeht kein Stund in der Nacht,
daß mein Herz nicht erwacht
und an dich denkt,
daß du mir vieltausendmal
dein Herz geschenkt.

When he is finished, they stand for a moment longer both silent. Dominic feels his heart might burst; he wants to cry and laugh both but fears moving, fears what will come next. He wants to explain, to tell Billy what is in his heart but cannot find the words.

“My translation is poor,” Dominic says as he drags his finger over his own scrawled words. “My grandmother used to sing it to me and my brother. When I saw it again in this book, I thought of you. I can’t… I don’t know how to explain. A part of me knows it’s wrong to feel for you the way I do but I wasn’t playing a game, Billy. I wasn’t. I just… You’re the first person who has really believed in me, didn’t act like I was stupid. I knew I could come to you and you would explain things to me, not just in philosophy, but about everything. I wanted to please you so I tried very, very hard. But I couldn’t tell you…thought that maybe I couldn’t come to you like… that I should… I thought that maybe coming to you the way I did was the only chance I had. I didn’t think that…. It was stupid of me but I wanted it. Wanted it so much.” Dominic stops, breathless, his heart pounding in his chest

“These lines,” Dominic points to them again, reading his translation. “You’re with me in my dreams / and I talk to you / When I wake up / I’m alone. / There is no hour during the night, / that my heart does not awake / and think of you.”

Dominic set the book back on the edge on the desk and reached up to hold Billy's hand on his shoulder. "I know I had no right to come to you, I know but I would have graduated in June and moved on, never knowing." Turning, still holding Billy's hand, Dominic kisses Billy softly, speaking against his lips. "I couldn't do that knowing how much you had come to mean to me."

Billy's head is fuzzy with thoughts and the sound of Dominic's voice gently rolling over the German words. Billy almost hadn't expected him to read the German itself, and the cadences and rhythms of the language are so unfamiliar to Billy that he finds himself simply drowning in Dominic's accent, softened by years in Manchester but still proud and sure.

The poem is beautiful, as Billy discovered in reading Dominic's "poor" translation. Billy knows he will ask to hear more of those poems—especially the originals—soon, and he hopes Dominic will be willing to read them aloud—something he's always expressed irritation about when asked to do so in class.

And then Dominic stops, apparently nervous and pleased with himself all at once, and it takes everything Billy has not to turn him in his arms and bend him over the desk. Instead, Billy closes his eyes and inhales the scent of Dominic's hair, relishes the warmth of Dominic's body as he begins to speak again.

Yes, I believed in you, Billy wants to whisper. I just didn't believe what your body was telling me everytime you came to my office with eyes hungrier than your stomach. As Dominic continues his speech, weighed as heavy as a confession to Billy's ears, Billy closes his eyes tighter, trying to ignore the burning he feels behind their lids.

There is a chance that this compassionate, strong young man is in love with Billy. And Billy has no idea what to do.

Billy cannot remember ever really being in love, much less with a—shite, shite, he's a student, you idiot, a student—student, but he knows that the strange, unfamiliar pulling and tightening in his heart and lungs cannot be written off as simple lust. Not when Dominic could have braved this at any other time, could have dropped to his knees after class one day and gotten this out of his system. No, Dominic thought about this, weighed the consequences in his mind and found Billy to be worth this effort, worth the chance.

Billy is breathing deeply now, trying to quell the even more unfamiliar desire to cry, to pull Dominic into his arms. He needs to be calm about this. He needs to be practical. When all he wants is to drive back to his home and stretch Dominic across his bed and learn every part of that tanned body.

To forget about consequences and the future and everything.

"Never knowing," Billy whispers. "How are you so brave?" He falls into Dominic's kisses willingly, allowing the younger man to take his nervous steps in the lead. Billy sees it in his mind, almost feels it—Dominic taking him instead, all that stubborn pride and soft passion pouring into him while Dominic's wild eyes rake over him like they do in class. Billy arches up against Dominic before he knows what he's doing, and then he pulls away in surprise.

"We should," Billy murmurs. "We should go, Dominic. Somewhere, anywhere. What—" and here Billy looks up, wondering if Dominic will understand the significance of what's trying to say. "What you would like to do now?"

"I just want to be with you. Anywhere, just--" The color and warmth of Billy's eyes has always stunned Dominic, and he stands now, unable to look away. Reaching out again, he brings Billy's hands to his lips, kissing the palms, wrists. "Let me stay with you tonight and then tomorrow, if you want to me to, I'll not ever breath a word of this again. I won't come to you outside of class, just let me have tonight, Billy. Please."

Billy watches Dominic take Billy's hands to his mouth, and he tries to speak. Words refuse to come to him like this, and so he listens instead to Dominic's pleas.

Let me stay with you tonight.

A sharp, spiky thrill runs up Billy's back. Yes, take Dominic home, have him in his bed, spend all of tonight and the early hours of the morning making love to him, yes. It sounds perfect, feels perfect—and is very much not perfect. There are too many possibilities of their being caught. Of course, they are both adults, and both consenting (Billy suppresses a small laugh at that). And Billy wants Dominic to stay with him tonight.

Billy pulls his hands from Dominic's grip, resting them on Dominic's cheeks, trying to quiet him. "Dominic," he says softly. "If you want this, if you truly do want this, then we'll go to my ... my house." Billy blinks and has to look away from Dominic's gaze before he continues. His hand drops to wrap around a fold of Dominic's tee shirt, and his voice drops to a heavy, driven rasp. "Want to take this off you next time. Want to see you like you were, Dominic. Want you to—" fuck me, Billy thinks, but cannot say it. "Want you to come home with me," he whispers instead. He presses a kiss to Dominic's lips, biting gently as he pulls away. "Shall we go?"

Dominic nods, trying to calm himself. When Billy pulls away, Dominic picks up his bookbag and slings it over his shoulder,sliding his sandals back on and waiting for Billy by the door. He chews on his thumbnail, excited and scared. "Would you rather I meet you there? I can walk over. It's not that far. Remember? I was there once when you had that study session last semester."

"You remember where I live?" It comes flying from his lips before he can think, and Billy instantly regrets it. "Oh, oh, of course you do," he smiles shakily. "Photographic memory, yes?"

Billy moves around his desk, gathering his blazer and briefcase. "I suppose it's best if you do walk over ... I ... we mustn't let anyone see us. You understand. And if I get us some dinner," Billy's face flushes with the idea—this is rapidly moving from a quick fuck to a date, a date, Boyd, with your student, let's not forget—but he presses on. "If I get dinner, then we should make it there at about the same time."

Billy reaches for pen and paper on his desk, and leans over it, writing. "Let me write it down for you though, just in case. The address I mean. Just in case, Dominic. I'm sure you know where you're going." Billy scribbles out three lines in his spiky penmanship, pauses, then writes two more. He folds the paper in half and stands, his belongings tucked underneath his other arm, and crosses to Dominic, waiting by the door.

Billy takes Dominic's hand and sets the paper in the younger man's palm, folding the fingers closed over it. Billy meets Dominic's eyes, and his expression is serious. "Make sure you read it carefully, Dominic," Billy whispers, before he kisses Dominic softly and gestures him out of the office.

Billy moves slowly down the hall, in the opposite direction from Dominic. He knows that Dominic, if he has followed Billy's instructions, is reading what Billy could not speak aloud: his address, and this:

This is your last chance, Dominic. If you come to me tonight, I promise I will be kinder than I was today. If you do not, I will understand. Make your choice—and may it be the right one for you.

Dominic is out of the building and halfway across campus before he stops to lean his back against a tree and catch his breath. His heart is pounding hard in his chest and he closes his eyes, trying to take in great gulps of air. Away from Billy’s office, he’s suddenly scared.

Billy, to him, is more than a teacher and advisor—he’s who’s kept him in this university and saved him from himself. His father takes every opportunity to remind him that it was a accident that he got past the sixth form. He still doesn’t know how he passed the test but supposes what Billy said about a photographic memory is right. He wasn’t here a year before he was doubting himself, his father upset about the expense, his mother that he was growing so thin. He was afraid to come out to them and so kept that hidden in his heart, finding his experience in the club scene but never allowing himself to fall in love, to feel anything more than vaguely ashamed about who he was.

He’d first taken Billy’s class at the beginning of his second year, had just been trying to fill an time slot and found an introductory philosophy course. His German advisor had thought it a good area to study and encouraged him. He remembers Billy being kind to his students, being patient in explaining his points. He particularly remembers how Billy would put his hand gently on Dominic’s shoulder when he was fidgeting too much during lecture but wouldn’t embarrass him about it. Midway through the semester, Dominic had gone to his office asking for help on a paper. Dominic can mark that as the moment his feelings changed.

Feeling decidedly stupid, he’d shown Billy his paper, filled with spelling mistakes, and expecting to be ridiculed as some professors rejoiced in doing. Billy, however, had pointed out what was good, first, and then gently showed Dominic what he could do to make it more organized, how to better answer the question. Then he’d taken books from the shelves that lined his office, and read bits out loud, explaining and asking questions. It’d felt as though Billy had considered him an equal, had valued his opinion, and in the end he’d gotten high marks on that paper (one he still kept), his first ever.

Calmed, Dominic opens his eyes and looks around the pretty campus. It’s growing late and the sun is low in the sky. He opens his hand and looks at the paper Billy had given to him, reading the lines repeatedly. Billy was giving him an option, treating him as an equal as he always did. Sliding the piece of paper into his pocket, Dominic couldn’t imagine making any other choice. The wrong choice, perhaps, given that he knew Billy’s sense of responsibility wouldn’t let him carry on an affair with a student—even if that student loved him desperately. Especially if that. He also couldn’t imagine Billy returning that affection, not for someone so young and unintelligent—someone so broken.

He thinks back to Billy’s argument of need versus want. He’s sure that he needs Billy—more than the air he breathes. He can’t explain that to himself, much less Billy, but knows it just as he knows his name. He needs Billy to feel whole. Needs his gentleness and peacefulness to counter his own hyperactivity, needs for Billy to praise him and explain the world to him—to let him know he isn’t a mistake. He can’t remember when he first knew that he wanted Billy. When his body had reacted at the sight of Billy’s eyes, or his soft touch. It has come to him gradually, he has lived with it for so long, that he can’t remember a time when this need/want wasn’t one. His greatest desire now was that Billy should need and want him back. That Billy wants his body, will enjoy Dominic in that way, he doesn’t question but he is afraid to ask for anything else.

That thought makes Dominic frown as he pushes away from the tree, nearly running across campus and through the narrow streets to Billy’s house. He would at least have this night, and then could maybe find a way to carry on without Billy haunting his every thought.

Approaching Billy’s house, Dominic sees that Billy has made it back before him. He starts towards the front door then decides against it, that it wouldn’t be proper. He goes around the side through the small garden to the back. He attempts to smooth down his unruly hair, wishing he was wearing something besides torn jeans and a threadbare t shirt. Knocking on the door, he waits for Billy.

Billy’s driven halfway home when he remembers that he needs to get dinner, and it occurs to him that he never thought to ask Dominic what he would prefer to eat. That would be a symptom of your own fucking selfishness, Boyd, he tells himself as he doubles back around a side street. Still, he doesn’t want Dominic to have to wait long, if at all, at his house, so he speeds along until he passes a row of take–away joints. Billy frowns, wondering what would be most appropriate for their meal. He has to smile as his body suggests Indian food—lots of spicy, intoxicating fragrances and flavours, and some food meant to be eaten out of hands. His mind, however, reminds Billy that Indian food has never particularly agreed with him. The battle that ensues amuses Billy greatly, and he laughs aloud in his car.

Well, giddy is good, Billy supposes as he continues down the street, pulling in front of a small Chinese restaurant he frequents on the weekends. He’s in and out of the little place in less than ten minutes, bearing a large bag of food and still laughing. He had panicked as he stared at the menu, and he is now the proud owner of probably a week’s worth of meals. If they do not finish most of the food tonight, Billy will package it back up for Dominic to take with him, as the lad obviously is not eating as well as he should.

That thought finally stops the laughter.

Billy guns the motor and returns to the main road, steering around corners as his thoughts speed up as well. Billy is supposed to care for Dominic Monaghan as an advisor, as a teacher, nothing more, and yet ... The lad came to him and bared his soul long before he bared his body, and Billy knows that everything—yes, everything, Billy nods to himself—has changed tonight.

He has not promised Dominic anything more than tonight, Billy knows, but there is a part of him that already believes Dominic is in love with him—and that Billy can do much more for him than advise him on his studies. Billy can be very good to and for Dominic—and that gives Billy a thrill he's never known before.

Billy parks the car and juggles his briefcase and the large bag of food, grateful that Dominic has yet to arrive. He has time now to find a few beers—the combination of beer and Chinese food being one of Billy’s chief evening joys—and check the bathroom and living room for anything incriminating and/or more untidy than Dominic would already expect to see.

Once that is done, Billy retreats to his bedroom, where he shucks the blazer and tie he’s worn most of the day and rolls his sleeves up, unbuttoning the shirt again at the neck and throat. He runs his hands through his hair, just a bit of a check, that’s all, nothing fancy, and washes his hands. When he catches himself in the mirror, Billy has to laugh again. The image of a somewhat satisfied, if nervous, man stares back at him, and Billy likes what he sees.

Just remember to eat first, Billy reminds himself, and he kicks off his shoes and socks, throwing them in a corner of the bedroom before he wanders back down the hall. He hears the knock at the back door and is confused until he suddenly understands.

Billy opens the door and smiles at Dominic’s shy face, and his gaze softens.

“Good choice, Mr. Monaghan,” Billy breathes. He has barely pulled Dominic inside before he’s trapped him in another kiss. Billy takes and teases, only slightly more gently than in his office, and then he suddenly pulls away, still smiling. “You’re a bit cold, Dominic,” he says kindly. “Come have some food.”

Dominic follows Billy to the table covered with take-away boxes and his eyes grow round with amazement. Dominic stomach grumbles and rubs at it, embarrassed but tries to remember what he’d eaten last; an apple this morning before class and before that a frozen shepard’s pie as his meal yesterday. The money he had saved this summer had been spent on books and he was loathe to ask his father just yet, hoping he could find a job first. But now, he has a veritable feast before him and Billy setting him down in a chair, lightly rubbing heat into his shoulders. “It’s just for the two of us?”

He smiles at Billy’s answering laugh and watches as Billy opens box after box explaining what is inside each before picking up his chopsticks. Dominic feels clumsy picking up his own set, trying to imitate how Billy has them held.

"I'm afraid I'm not nearly as mild–mannered when faced with a menu, Dom," Billy smiles, doling out napkins and packages of multi–coloured sauces. "I panicked. I think I ordered everything but the owner's daughter." Billy swipes his hair back from his forehead and laughs again. He watches Dominic stare at the chopsticks, and tilts his head, still smiling. "S'alright, Dom, I've got forks. Well, maybe. If they're clean." Billy stands to get silverware and moves behind Dominic, running his hand lightly across Dominic's shoulder blades as he walks. "Should've probably gotten down some glasses, too."

When Billy turns again, Dominic is holding the chopsticks steadier. "There. There, you've got it. Just keep your fingers a little higher." Billy drops the glasses on the tables and repositions Dominic's hand, cradling it for a moment before he lets go. "Perfect."

Billy sits back down, content, and allows both of them a few minutes silence in which to eat. He's frankly alarmed by the rate at which Dominic is eating, and Billy's heart cracks just a tiny bit at the confirmed notion that Dominic is not taking good care of himself.

"I think you should try some of this," Billy says lightly, pouring an enormous portion of mixed vegetables next to the already impressive amount of food on Dominic's plate. "They're really good. Oh, and Dom, I was thinking—well, never mind now." Billy reaches for his glass and holds it for a moment, thinking.

"What d'you think we should toast to, Dominic?" Billy murmurs.

Dominic maneuvers a piece of asparagus to his mouth with the chop sticks, pleased with himself for being able to use them. “Very good”

When he looks up, he finds Billy studying him and he feels self-conscious, shy, in a way that is ridiculous to him—especially after this afternoon. He’s always been comfortable with Billy, even if a little awed sometimes. But to be here, alone together, in his house…

He sets down his chop sticks and picks up his glass. He closes his eyes for a minute, thinking—allowing himself to pretend that this is more, that there will be more than just this night. “I think… I think we should toast Dr. Wagner, who strongly encouraged me to take your class, though I think it was only to ensure I wouldn’t be in his German lit class that was at the same time.” Dominic laughs, then imitates his old advisor, “I’m thinking, Herr Monaghan, that you should be taking philosophy courses. I hear they all have the fortitude of Gandhi in that department. Perhaps they have someone there who will have the patience to teach you as you need to be taught." Dominic stops, laughing again at the memory of his old professor. "I miss him. He was a good teacher and I was sorry at his passing last quarter, especially since he brought you into my life.”

Dominic blushes at having spoken so openly. He holds his glass steady, staring down at his plate while waiting for Billy to say something.

Billy smiles broadly at Dominic's imitation of Dr. Wagner, a kind old man who actually knew Billy's name and that he'd come from St. Andrews, even though he should have had no reason to care. Billy misses the man, too. And Dominic's accent and mannerisms of Wagner's are spot on—Billy thinks that Wagner himself would laugh if he could see them.

"Of Gandhi, eh?" Billy smiles gently. "He was a good teacher, you're right. And a good man. We should all be so kind. To Wagner, then." Billy raises his glass and touches it to Dominic's before taking a healthy swig. Billy leans back in his chair and yawns, his body stretching hard, up and out, and then resettling. He runs one hand lazily across his face, and finds that Dominic's eating has slowed, and his face in now tight with emotion.

"So shy," Billy murmurs, his voice low and dark. "So quiet here with me when two hours ago y'were making such beautiful noise." Billy leans forward and returns his attention to his plate. As he eats, his mind races.

There are hundreds of things Billy would like to do for, with and to Dominic. Many of them involve keeping a closer eye on his student, making sure his grades are in good shape and that he is staying healthy, but now—after this afternoon, this evening—many more of them involve touching Dominic, teasing him, driving him mad, then giving him release of several different kinds. And in that release Billy plans to find his own. It's been a long while since Billy had a lover, and even longer since he'd been involved in a real relationship. Which of course he cannot consider this to be ... not with all the risks involved. Still, Billy knows better than to simply write off Dominic as a fling, a one–nighter. Even if Dominic does not yet know it, Billy has plans for this lad. And some of them involve Billy's hands.

"If you're finished, Dominic, do me a favour and get some music playing, yes?" Billy smiles. "You know where the player is in the front room. Just pick whatever you'd like to hear, and I'll package the rest of this up." Dominic's expression is still nervous, and Billy reaches across the table to grab his hand.

"Dominic, I ask you to trust me," Billy says softly, his eyes going the same dark green Dominic noticed in his office. "I have no intention of just throwing you across my bed and throwing you back out an hour later. You're welcome here tonight. I want you here. Take a look around, fix yourself a proper drink. I'll be out in a minute."

Dominic looks at their clasped hands and then back up to Billy. He nods, his voice quiet, shy still. “I do trust you.”

He’s rewarded with a kind smile from Billy and another pat on the hand, before he’s being pulled from his chair and scooted towards out of the kitchen. Walking into the front room, it’s exactly as he remembers. He stands in the center of the room, rubbing his full stomach and looking around—taking it in. Memorizing. He sees the cd collection and begins looking at the eclectic mix, trying to decide what would be appropriate. He decides on Ella Fitzgerald, keeping the volume low.

Still waiting for Billy, Dominic reads the titles from a shelf of books, his hands in his pockets and his head cocked to the side. At a grouping of pictures, he tries to decide which are of Billy’s family before picking up a small photo of a boy he knows must be Billy standing next to a young girl. He smiles softly at young Billy, liking that he holding the girl’s hand and looking up to her as if she was adored, which Dom’s sure she was.

Gently replacing the picture, he turns to find Billy standing in the doorway, studying him.

“My sister, Margaret,” Billy says softly. “She still lives in Glasgow. I haven't seen her for some months.” He sighs and looks down at the glass in his hand, taking a drink before he continues. “Come and sit, Dom.”

Billy gestures to the couch, watching Dominic sit quietly on the edge, too nervous to relax into the cushions. Billy's eyebrows knit first in confusion, then in concern. He feels like he is making Dominic nervous, even after everything else that has happened this day, and he's not quite sure what to do next. After a moment, Billy makes his decision. He will take this slowly, gently; anything to make Dominic calm down and enjoy this night.

Because Billy has every intention of enjoying it.

He places his glass on the end table and moves to stand in front of Dominic. Dominic's eyes go wide and very blue, and Billy cannot hide the small half–smirking smile that crosses his face. “Don't be afraid of me,” he whispers, and leans down to lay his palms on Dominic's shoulders. He presses Dominic back into the cushions and brings their faces to touch. “I promised to be kinder to you,” Billy breathes. “And I will be kind. Give me a chance, Dominic. Yes?”

Billy kisses him, just a soft trail of his lips over Dominic's, then pulls away the moment Dominic relaxes. “Yes,” Billy sighs. “Yes, Dominic.” He runs a hand through Dominic's shaggy hair, then sits down on the couch, slouching in a way he never does in his class or his office. In any other situation, Billy might be hearing warning bells as every second passes. He is well–fed and warmed by drink, and entranced by the nervous, beautiful creature not five feet away from him, and Billy knows that it's only sheer willpower that's keeping him from turning Dominic over and fucking him into the upholstery. Willpower and the desire to make this good for Dominic.

Billy spiderwalks a hand lazily across the couch until his fingers lace with Dominic's. Dominic's palm is cool, and Billy frowns. He moves closer to Dominic and chafes his student's hands in his own. He doesn't dare ask why Dominic wasn't wearing a coat outside—he's fairly certain he knows the answer—but instead concentrates on Dominic's long, powerful fingers. Billy can see faint traces of ink in Dominic's skin, and it makes him smile. He knows the reason for that, too.

When Billy looks up again to face Dominic, he is still smiling.

“Good choice, Mr. Monaghan,” he repeats. “You made a very good choice.”

“I wasn’t sure. I mean, I’m sure about what I feel, but I wasn’t sure that you would... because I’m a boy, I wasn’t sure.” Dominic blushes, ducking his head, his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks. He lets Billy’s holding his hand be his signal and moves closer, resting his head in the crook of Billy’s neck and his hand sliding over his chest to rest on his waist. “I couldn’t make any other decision after--”

Leaning his head back, Dominic places a chaste kiss on Billy’s cheek, waits a moment to make sure it’s welcome, and then kisses him again before cuddling back against Billy, closing his eyes against the butterflies in his stomach. “I remember the first thing you said to me. Not to me as just one of your students, but as a person. ‘They’re taking out the green space behind the cafeteria to put in a parking lot. Before long the entire campus will be pavement.’” Dominic laughs quietly. “Sounds like a silly thing to remember, but it made me feel like an equal to you, like a friend. I can’t remember the rest of the conversation, but we talked for almost an hour, standing outside of the cafeteria. I felt like…”

Dominic let his voice trail off, feeling suddenly emboldened by his memories, he kisses Billy’s neck gently.

This is ... unexpected. Billy allows Dominic to press his soft, gentle kisses on his face, on his neck, and wonders how many times Dominic has imagined this. When Dominic's hand grazes his waist, Billy moves into the touch, swallowing and shifting his hips so Dominic has better access to his body. Billy's already feeling the need rise and burn in his stomach and between his legs, and he forces himself to pay attention to Dominic's words.

"Aye, I remember that, too," Billy nods. "I was angry over that business, even wrote a letter about it, as you can imagine. Some good it did. I was distracted that day, but you listened and told me you would miss the trees." Billy laughs shortly and stares into Dominic's eyes, and then his voice grows softer. "You're so open, Dom ... I hear you in the halls and your voice carries. Your thoughts carry. I wonder that you were able to keep your thoughts of me to yourself for so long."

Billy's hands fall to Dominic's sides, running underneath the thin fabric of the tee shirt, before Billy moves his head, angling to kiss Dominic back, harder than Dominic has done to him. "So good," Billy whispers. He pulls Dominic forward until his student is stretched almost completely on top of him. Dominic is warming up, and Billy is pleased. He arches his hips just enough that Dominic can feel him, and raises one hand to land in Dominic's hair, pushing him down so Billy can kiss him again, his teeth plunging lightly into Dominic's bottom lip. Dominic releases a tiny, excited gasp, and Billy smiles.

"You're going to make many more decisions tonight, Dominic ..." Billy murmurs, pulling on the tee shirt. His fingers travel up to touch Dominic's stomach, his chest, and his teeth running down the line of Dominic's jaw to his throat. "'s only the beginning."

Emboldened by feeling Billy’s arousal, by his kisses, Dominic pulls his tee shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor before kissing Billy’s neck. This he is sure of, his skill to please with touches and kisses, and not his ability to impress Billy with conversation, which he is sure will prove a relationship impossible. He kneels between Billy’s legs and unbuttons Billy’s shirt with sure fingers, spreading the material open and bending down to lick and suck, his words mumbled against Billy’s warm skin. “Who would understand if I told? They would think I was trying for a better grade, but I’m not. I would drop your class right now if you asked me to, if it would mean that I can have this instead. And my friends…”

Dominic touches Billy’s cheek, his eyes wide, his voice soft. “My friends don’t understand me like you do, Billy. They think I’m funny and fun but a fuck up. Everyone waits for me to mess up, to laugh, but you never have. I couldn’t… I wanted that for my own. I wanted you for my own and not have everyone laugh at me because I had a crush on a teacher.”

Dominic kisses Billy deeply, letting Billy’s tongue into his mouth, letting Billy control the kiss before kissing his way down Billy’s chest and stomach. Kneeling now on the floor between Billy’s legs, his hand play at the waist of Billy’s trousers. Looking up, he whispers, “You do want me like this, don’t you? I can make you happy.”

A warm flush crawls its way up Billy's skin, until he knows his throat is mottled red and his cheeks are dark with need. Dominic's mouth is one of the more powerful weapons Billy's ever known, and Dominic's confidence in its power is palpable, contagious. Billy breathes hard when Dominic's lips apply pressure to his chest, drawing blood up under the skin, and he flinches.

Marks.

There will be marks on his body, marks Billy must be careful to keep hidden under clothing. To deny Dominic the opportunity to use those teeth, those lips in such a murderous fashion where Billy wants them to do their worst seems terribly unfair to both of them, but discretion is needed. And of all the things Billy cannot control right now, he can control this. He will stop Dominic before his lips brand him somewhere visible to anyone during the course of a normal day.

In the meantime, Billy tries to relax and enjoy this, and it is not hard, at least until Dominic speaks again, denigrating himself indirectly, and Billy bites his own lips to keep from scolding Dominic against this as he has done in the past. That is the role of an advisor, not a lover, at least not now. But then Dominic is looking up at him, the words falling softly around Billy.

"Christ, Dominic," Billy nearly moans, and pulls Dominic almost into his lap with his need. "I want you. So much I've bruised you from it. I can't—" Billy kisses him again, hard and deep, until Dominic is shaking. "You're in danger, lad," Billy whispers. "We've waited too long for this, and I have months to make up for ..."

Billy's hand falls to Dominic's waist and falters there, trying to open the button and zipper. He gives up and plunges his hand instead inside the waistband, inside the heat, and he exhales into the skin of Dominic's neck when his fingers catch and twist in already damp hair. Dominic tenses, and Billy presses a kiss on his throat, murmuring words he doesn't altogether intend for Dominic to hear—words he can barely believe he's speaking aloud. "want to be inside you again ... want you inside me ... want to hear you scream, lad ... want to make you ache tomorrow ..."

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Page 2 of 4

The one where Dom acts on his crush.

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I can edit if I've caught you too off guard ...

You did surprise me, but surprises are good.

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has to be posted in two comments as I got a little carried away :)

and part the second

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