Billy has always silently sympathized with cover bands. The need to take something of someone else's making and put your own mark on it is something Billy can relate to. Hell, he gets paid to do it. He's also come across one or two fairly decent ones in his time.
Not this one though. This one? Is an absolute shite band but Dom drags him out onto the floor anyway. Just because. Billy knows, they are currently ruining one of Dom's favorite songs.
Billy is, he will admit only to himself, slightly tipsy. That fact would be due to all the Glenlivet he's consumed. So he blames everything on that when he starts to think (again, only to himself) how beautiful Dom is in eyeliner, watching him as he bops along to the music.
And how bloody young. How young both him and Elijah are. The energy Dom alone exudes is breathtaking. Get them together? Forget it - they might as well glow -- Dom especially -- they're both so fucking radiant and beautiful.
And Billy thinks, always, at times like those, or now even, as he watches the boy, no man, beside him... how infectious his youth and beauty is. How when Dom turns all his attention towards Billy, Billy himself feels ten years younger -- Elijah's age even -- and that the whole world is bright and shiny and just for you (him, them) and just, just at the tips or your (his, their) fingers.
Billy thinks how misleading that is. The optimism of youth has long since passed him by, replaced by an (he hates to admit it) adult's pragmatism.
Billy knows damn well the world is most definitely not at the tips of his fingers.
But as Dom slips his long fingers between Billy's own as the song winds to a close -- he thinks 'Maybe I was wrong.'
~*~
Dom hates cover bands on principle. Always has and this one is no exception to his rule. But. They are playing one of his favorite Stone Roses' songs. And hell, they might be butchering it but that didn't mean he couldn't drag Boyd's arse out onto the floor to dance.
Dom tries to blame the warmth that slowly tingles its way up his arm when he grips Billy's on the beer he's had that evening. And not on the warm Scot he just led out to the dance floor. Billy himself is wearing a slightly dazed expression and Dom realizes as he sneaks a glance at Billy from underneath his fringe, he might not be the only one who over-indulged this evening.
As he watches Billy's lips purse to take another swig of whiskey, Dom feels (for what seems like the millionth time since he met Billy) so damn young. So immature compared to the (entirely too damn tempting) man swaying slightly to the music beside him.
Elijah never helps matters when he is around, knowing full well what Dom's feelings towards Billy are (damn him and his old soul anyway). Always saying things, things Dom hopes Billy won't pick up on. He didn't even have to tell Elijah -- he guessed. Dom was horrified to realize he was that transparent. Elijah assured him that he wasn't. And Billy was apparently clueless anyway, Elijah cheerfully said.
So Elijah taunts Dom, makes Dom act even more foolish (immature) in front of Bill and Dom just wishes he could break out of this vicious cycle. Make Billy see him. Really see him. Not the fuck-up he usually is around Bills.
The song is winding down and the words hit Dom like he's hearing them for the first time (that's ridiculous, he argues with himself, I've loved this song for years). They resonate tonight, though, greater than they ever have before and Dom isn't sure what the hell possesses him to do so but the next thing he knows, he's holding Billy's hand. Tightly.
Dreading the moment Billy will pull the rug out from under him. Pull his hand away. Pull away from Dom.
Billy does manage to yank the rug out from Dom a second later. Not when he pulls his hand away, however. But when he squeezes Dom's hand, pulling him forwards until their lips meet.
Dom suddenly finds himself rethinking his entire opinion of cover bands. Can't be all bad, he reasons, as he kisses Billy back.
I don't need to sell my soul/He's already in me/I wanna be adored ...
