Title: Roller Coaster

Sequel: Yes. If you want the whole background, read the stories in this order: "A Helping Hand", "We Can Do More", "When the Cat's Away", "Roller Coaster".

Author: Lobelia; [email protected]

Pairing: Dominic Monaghan / Billy Boyd; Dominic Monaghan / Orlando Bloom; Billy Boyd / David Wenham

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: The Two Towers, The Return of the King

Warnings/Content: RPS.

Feedback: Yes, please, I would love feedback!

Disclaimers: This is a work of amateur fiction. I do not know these people. I am not making money. The events described in this story did not happen. Quotations taken from J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King, book 5, chapter VIII, copyright George Allen & Unwin.

Summary: Dominic and Billy are reunited but all is not perfect (just as in real life, *g*).

Author's Notes: The POV alternates between Dominic and Billy in the present tense. Flashback sequences are in the past tense and are about Dominic / Orlando (Dominic's POV). Thanks to all those lovely people who sent or posted comments when I got stuck two-thirds of the way through this story. And kisses and thank-yous to Gabby for her beta and to Val for her algebra! :-)

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[...]

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

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Dominic sits in the helicopter, on his way to the Minas Tirith set, on his way to Billy. The others are there, too, behind him somewhere, chattering among themselves. Dominic isn't up to chattering. He's too nervous. In fact, he feels sick to the stomach, as if he were lurching around on a roller coaster. And it's not because of the swaying motion of the helicopter.

'About twenty more minutes till we're there,' he thinks. 'About ten minutes getting off the helicopter and getting into the bus or whatever they've sent to pick us up. About what -- half an hour, I don't know, to drive in and get to the hotel. So that's maybe an hour, maybe a bit more, till I see Billy. And will Billy be there in the hotel? Or will he be meeting me somewhere? And maybe it's longer than half an hour in the bus. And now --' He glances at his watch but then realises he's not wearing it. Brief moment of panic. Where's his watch? Has he left it behind? No, it's okay, he packed it in his bag.

He estimates that maybe three minutes have passed and starts counting again in his head. 'Right. That's another seventeen minutes till we land. And then another ten minutes...'

And so on and on. If they stay in this helicopter much longer, he is going to go stark raving mad. His thoughts seem to be stuck in this one ridiculous groove, and he can't get them to move onto another one. In fact, he hasn't been in very good control of his thoughts for the last thirty-six hours or so. Last night was worst. Just one long caroussel of tossing, staring at the alarm clock, turning, staring at the alarm clock again, stomach churning, dozing off only to have nightmarish dreams about Billy wanting to punch him in the face or, even more horribly, about him punching Billy in the face and Billy falling to the ground. And then some truly awful dreams in which he was getting a blowjob from Orlando while Billy was somewhere in the background, being laughed at or kicked at or worse.

At about four in the morning, he gave up and had a shower. Result: he feels drained, his head hurts, his throat tastes of nausea.

Dominic has been looking forward to this day for weeks and weeks. This is not how he has imagined it.

He leans his forehead against the window pane and stares, unseeing, down at the lakes and mountains passing by below.

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What Dominic doesn't know is that Billy is not at the hotel. Billy is already at the helipad. He is the only person there, besides the chauffeur of the mini-van sent to pick up the cast and a handful of guys who work at the place.

Billy stands outside, shivering slightly in his too-thin jacket. The location is quite high up in the mountains and at times the temperatures are rather wintry. He could go inside, of course; there's a tiny pseudo-terminal here for people to wait in. Billy doesn't want to wait in there. He'd rather be out here, shivering but able to see the sky and all of the horizon. He doesn't want to miss the first glimpse of the helicopter. The helicopter that is bringing Dominic. His Dominic.

'My Dominic,' he thinks. 'My dear, dear Dom.'

He leans on a metal fence just outside the terminal, and then he climbs onto it, as if being higher up might get him that bit closer to his Dominic. He stares up into the grey-blue sky. Useless, of course. He knows it's another twenty minutes before Dominic is even due to arrive, at the earliest. He's brought a book with him, to pass the time but he doesn't read it. It's The Return of the King and he doesn't need to read it because there is only one scene in it that really interests him right now, and he knows that scene by heart.

It's the reunion between Pippin and Merry. Billy has read this part so often, that and the shooting script equivalent, that he can recite the lines in his sleep. In fact, he has been reciting them in his sleep. He's been dreaming of Pippin and Merry. Often in the dreams, and always in his daydreams, Pippin and Merry are transformed into Billy and Dominic, and it's Dominic who stumbles along the lanes of Minas Tirith with tears streaking his face, and it's Dominic whose head is cradled in Billy's lap. Invariably, the daydreams spin out of control at this point as Billy leans down to smooth the hair from Dominic's forehead and as Dominic turns around to press his mouth against Billy's groin.

These latter fantasies bear only the most tangential relationship to both book and script. But they're the ones that make Billy's throat tight with yearning.

Standing there, he thinks, 'And it's going to happen. It's actually going to happen. He's actually going to be here.'

Is that just a smudge in the sky? Or is that it? Is that the helicopter?

Billy jumps off the railing. He thinks he can hear the rotorblades spinning but it's only the beating of his own heart.

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The helicopter has landed. The blades are still rotating so nobody's getting off yet but everyone's looking for their bags and things and pulling on their jumpers. A hand lands on Dominic's shoulder. Dominic flinches because it's Orlando's hand, and he finds that he can't deal with Orlando's hand right now.

"You all right, mate?" says Orlando. "You look a bit green."

"Fine, fine," says Dominic. Which is a complete lie. His insides are in a state of convulsion. Ten more minutes, then another half an hour...

"Hey, look!" yells Orlando. "It's Billy! Hey, Billy's here!"

What? Where? How? Yellow spots start to dance before Dominic's eyes. What about the ten minutes? The half hour? He's not ready for this. But there's no denying it: Billy is, indeed, here. He is perfectly visible, a small slim figure standing next to some sort of shed-thing, quite a few yards away but no mistaking it.

Dominic bends down to tie up his shoelace. He wants to throw up.

They're allowed out now. The others all troop past him, eager, chatting, waving, Orlando hollering, "Hey, Billy-boy!" He hears their voices recede. There's much cheerful hallooing and laughing, and always in between the sound of somebody calling out, "Billy!" and "Good to see you!" Then, inevitably, someone, Orlando he thinks, shouting, "Dominic! Hey, Dom, where are you?"

He just can't get the fucking shoelace to knot up properly. It's all tangled. He'll never get off this helicopter. Everything's a mess.

"Dom?"

He knows that voice. For weeks, he's only heard that voice futzed down a telephone line but here it is. Real and alive.

He looks up. Billy has poked his head into the helicopter. Oh, God, he's here. It's too sudden.

And now he's actually climbing in. He's clambering up the ladder, he's pushing past the other seats, he's on the floor, crouching down in the small space between the seats, he's looking at Dominic and smiling and smiling. He also seems to be saying something; at least his mouth is moving but Dominic can't make out any words because of the roaring in his ears.

"What?" he finally gets out, and what a stupid word to say first thing to Billy after all these weeks.

Billy says, "Come on. I've called us a taxi. The others have gone ahead in the bus."

Billy has called a taxi. Billy has arranged things. Billy is looking after everything. Maybe if Dominic just stops thinking. Maybe if he just throws himself at the mercy of Billy.

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Billy can see that Dominic's in a bad way for some reason. He hasn't expected this. He doesn't know what exactly he has expected but it's more in the throwing-themselves-at-each-other line than in the not-touching-and-being-awkward line that they seem to be stuck with instead. He longs to take Dominic into his arms. But he can't because Dominic is fiddling with his shoe and not looking at him properly. So Billy just crouches there and tries to coax Dominic off the helicopter as if he were a frightened animal.

"Come on," he says gently. "I've called a cab. The others have gone without us. It'll just be the two of us, in a taxi. Come on."

"Where are we going?" asks Dominic. "Are you going to bury me?"

Then Billy knows that Dominic's been reading the Minas Tirith reunion scene as well. He can't help smiling, although for some unknown reason he also feels like weeping, and he answers, as if talking in his dream:

"No, indeed. No, we are going to the Houses of Healing."

"Oh, Billy," says Dominic, and now he is in his arms. He's half fallen out of his seat; he hasn't even unbuckled his safety belt, but he is, as much as he can be, in Billy's arms. Dominic is warm and real. He's also shaking, and he's pressed against Billy's chest, with his face buried in the crook of Billy's neck.

Billy reaches down and unbuckles Dominic's belt. It feels intimate, almost as if he were undoing Dominic's fly. Dominic, freed of the restraint, tumbles onto Billy who falls back against the seat behind. For a few mad moments, they're wedged in the aisle, giving each other small soft kisses, and Dominic's fingers are all over Billy's face.

But Dominic's still shaking, and Billy can see that he looks distressed. He doesn't understand why Dominic's like this. It's not as he remembers Dominic. But in a way that's good. It makes Dominic authentic, less smooth, less of the fantasy person he was in danger of becoming in Billy's imagination. Dominic's distress is a sign that he's a real man, with thorns and catches and difficult barbs that might hurt you if you brush up against them. But these barbs are also what make Dominic interesting and unique and into everything that Billy loves about Dominic.

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Dominic barely survives the taxi ride. Finally, they're at the hotel. Billy is still taking care of him, and that's good. He collects Dominic's keys, he carries Dominic's holdall, he presses the correct button in the elevator. He even unlocks the door of Dominic's hotel room for him.

Dominic briefly glimpses a good-size room, a double bed, plush carpet and floor-length windows giving onto a view of some buildings and, in the distance, a snow-covered mountain. But he doesn't really take it all in because as soon as the door falls shut behind them, Dominic drops his bag and gathers Billy in his arms. Properly this time; it's not so squashed and awkward as in the helicopter. He still feels queasy but holding onto Billy helps. Billy feels warm and compact. He drops the key and clasps his hands around Dominic's back, and he breathes against Dominic's neck, and these things are comforting. The longer he feels Billy's heartbeat against his own, the steadier his own heartbeat becomes.

He licks Billy's neck and the soft spot behind Billy's earlobe. He hasn't even thought of that soft spot for weeks, and now here it is, and the memory of it rushes back. When he gets to Billy's mouth, he finds it's already open and waiting for his tongue.

They kiss, slowly and sweetly. Dominic can't deny that the taste and feel of Billy is a shock after all these weeks, a lovely shock but still a shock, and he can't help comparing although he tries not to.

Dominic hooks his fingers under the collar of Billy's jacket and pulls the jacket off. He runs his hands up and down Billy's arms, and up and down Billy's chest and stomach. He wants to relearn all of Billy, how everything fits together, how Billy fits against Dominic.

"Oh, Billy," he whispers and frames Billy's face in his palms.

He's not quite certain how they arrived at the bed, at what point they crossed that expanse of carpet and sank onto those layers of sheets and blankets. But here they are, and Dominic's lying on top of Billy, and that feels much better already. He's forgotten how good it feels to be lying on top of Billy, and suddenly he doesn't know how he's managed so long without it.

"I love this," he says to Billy.

"I love this, too," whispers Billy. "I love you."

Dominic loves to hear Billy say this but it also makes him want to cry. He thinks that maybe he can just get himself across this initial hurdle by losing himself in lust. If he can just forget about all the other stuff for a while, maybe things will be okay.

He bends down to Billy's mouth and starts moving his groin against Billy's. And for a while it works. Billy starts wriggling underneath him, and he recognises that wriggle, his very nerves and muscles remember that wriggle. He reaches for Billy's crotch, opens the buttons, pushes his hand into Billy's trousers. Billy's eyes flutter shut. Billy fumbles with Dominic's fly, his other hand moves up to caress Dominic's ear, and Dominic wants to die.

He pulls away.

"What?" says Billy, looking up at him through half-closed eyes.

"I'm going to come if you do that much longer" whispers Dominic, and he's smiling now. "You know I am."

Billy smiles, too. "It's so good to have you back," he says. "I've been missing this so much."

Dominic slowly moves his hand up and down Billy's cock, and Billy sighs and moves against him.

"Remember in the trailer?" he whispers.

"Of course," says Dominic. His headache is almost gone now. Billy's cock feels wonderful, and moving his hand around it, he remembers the shape and weight of it. And Billy is doing something delicious to his own cock, rubbing his foreskin back and forth across the head of the cock and squeezing his fingers tightly around the shaft. Dominic moans softly. He feels that it's happening, he's going to lose himself, and that's a good thing. It's a necessary thing.

"Remember what we did?" whispers Billy.

"Which part?" asks Dominic. "We did so many things."

Of course, he remembers. Each and every act is etched into his memory though it's also true that the order has got blurred and what happened in between the acts. And other things have since been added to the etchings in his memory and got muddled in with the Billy-things.

"The last night," says Billy. And now Billy blushes, he is actually going quite pink. Dominic is enchanted. His head stops hurting.

"What?" he says.

"You know," says Billy, giggling and still blushing.

Dominic is captivated by Billy now. He wants Billy to blush forever. He kisses him on the cheek and on the nose and bites his earlobe and smiles. "What, Billy? What are you trying to say?"

Billy giggles.

Dominic whispers into Billy's ear, "Are you trying to say that we fucked? That last night in the trailer?"

Billy nods.

"That we fucked," says Dominic slowly, looking at Billy's face and enjoying the expression on it. "That first you fucked me, and then I fucked you. Is that what you're trying to say?"

Billy starts to giggle but then the giggle turns into a sort of helpless moan.

"I didn't know you were so shy," says Dominic, just because he's enjoying this conversation so much. "I didn't know you were too shy to say 'fuck'."

"I'm just shy with you," says Billy.

Dominic snorts with laughter. He's actually laughing. Billy has made him laugh.

"How can you be shy with me?" he asks. "We've talked about this heaps on the telephone."

Have they ever.

"Yeah, but this is different, you're here now," says Billy.

This doesn't even make sense but Dominic doesn't care. You're supposed to talk nonsense in bed. It makes everything feel right, and as if it might be, just might be okay. He starts kissing Billy again, dropping his lips on Billy's skin in tiny pecks. Billy's breath is warm against his ear, and he hears Billy say:

"Can we do it now? Can we fuck? D'you want to fuck me?" And he's blushing again, and his voice catches on the word 'fuck'.

"Oh, God," says Dominic. "Yes."

"And guess what," says Billy. "I've got stacks of condoms this time. In my room."

Dominic laughs again, remembering their condom-less plight at the Fangorn location.

"I'll get them now," says Billy in a determined voice, rolling out from underneath Dominic.

"Don't go. I've got some, too," says Dominic without thinking.

Billy looks at him, then throws his head back and laughs. "Of course you do!" he cries. "I should have known. Where are they?"

He's half-way across the room. He kneels down and starts rummaging through Dominic's holdall.

"No!" Dominic shouts in alarm and lunges across the floor. "I'll get them."

He has suddenly remembered why he has bought these condoms, and it wasn't for sex with Billy.

Shit.

"I've got them," says Billy cheerfully, displaying an unnerving familiarity with the inside of Dominic's holdall. He pulls out the packet from Dominic's blue toiletry bag.

"Oh," he says. "I see. They're half used up."

Mad, improbable lies storm through Dominic's brain. 'I was burgled.' 'A dog ate them.' 'Someone else wanted to borrow some, ha-ha. Remember Fangorn?'

But what he says is, "Oh fuck." He falls back on the bed and puts his hands over his eyes. His headache is back.

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Flashback: Why Dominic bought the condoms.

There had been that beach incident with Orlando but nothing else happened after that. For a while, anyway. Orlando and Dominic never talked about it, although every now and again Orlando would look across a crowded pub or across a busy set and wink at Dominic.

About a week after their day at the beach, Dominic looked out of his motel room window late one evening and saw Orlando having a smoke on the balcony running along the side of the motel. He joined him out there to have a chat. Orlando had one hand on the railing, and Dominic put his hand on the railing, too. Orlando lifted his hand to light another cigarette, and when he put it back down it came to rest a mere inch from Dominic's. Dominic twitched his little finger, and then their hands lay on the railing, touching.

That was all.

They didn't move their hands until Orlando had finished his cigarette. They also stopped chatting, just looked at the Southern Cross. Finally, Orlando threw down the stub, ground it out with his heel and said, "So. Um. Do you want to come in for a bit?" After about ten seconds, he added, "To play cards?"

It was quite clear that this wasn't about cards. As if pulled by an invisible string, Dominic followed Orlando into his room.

The next day, Dominic went to buy the condoms.

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Billy kneels on the floor, staring at the half-empty condom packet. It takes a few moments for the evidence to register. In all his thoughts about Dominic, Billy has never taken this eventuality into account. But this is the real Dominic all right, not a fantasy Dominic. The one with thorns and barbs and difficulties. And somehow it is exhilarating to have that real Dominic with him again, the one who can surprise him and do things other than what Billy prescribes for him in his daydreams.

Billy releases his breath and says, "This is interesting. Well, mate, you've certainly been up to something."

And it's with these words that he extracts one of the condoms and means to go back to bed, have a laugh, get on with things. It's only then that he realises that Dominic is not responding. Dominic is lying motionless on the bed, with his hands covering his face.

"Dom?" Billy says.

He crosses over to the bed. Sits down next to Dominic. He's not sure what's going on here.

"You're not cut up about this, are you?" he asks.

No response.

"Because if you are," Billy continues, "that would be really stupid. Because I don't care. I couldn't give a monkey's what you got up to in that Dunharrow location."

Dominic still doesn't say anything.

"Come on, Dom," says Billy and tries to prise Dominic's hands away from his face. Dominic doggedly presses the hands closer, Billy pulls and pinches. It turns into a farcical tug-of-war.

"Don't be stubborn," pleads Billy. "Come on, Dominic. What's the matter?"

He starts to feel out of his depth. Dominic is being weird, and he doesn't understand why. Dominic is locking Billy out, for some obscure reason of his own, and that is perhaps too much barb and thorn even for Billy.

"Who gives a stuff, anyway, who you shagged or not?" says Billy. "I don't. I really, really don't. Anyway..." He pauses and adds, "It's not as if I hadn't got up to anything myself."

"Really?" says Dominic, shocked into speaking, and uncovers his eyes.

Billy grins. "That got your attention."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah," says Billy. "I didn't mean to tell you. Not straight away, at any rate." He looks down at the bedspread and passes the condom from hand to hand. "So. In a way, I'm relieved, you know. Because I did, and you did, so there we are. And who cares?"

Dominic's looking at him now so Billy forges on. "And, anyway, it doesn't matter. It's only sex, right? It's not important."

That, it seems, was not the right thing to say. Dominic's eyes immediately cloud over; he furrows his brow and looks away.

A cold hand freezes around Billy's heart. "It's only sex, right?" he says again, but his voice sounds shrill now.

"Yeah, sure," says Dominic lightly.

Considering he's a professional actor, Dominic can't lie to save his life. At any rate, not to Billy, he can't.

It's as if an abyss has opened up in front of Billy. As if someone has just punched him in the stomach. He opens his mouth to say something but he is too terrified. He wants to ask, 'Are you in love with this other person?' But he doesn't think he could bear the answer. Much less can he ask, 'And are you in love with me? Still?'

Then suddenly the penny drops. It's completely, utterly obvious. It's as if Billy has known all along.

"It's Orli," he blurts out. Oh shit, he hasn't meant to say that. He wishes he hadn't said that. But it's too late, and the expression on Dominic's face is intolerable.

"I'm sorry," Billy immediately adds. "I didn't mean to say that."

"How did you know?" asks Dominic blankly.

So it's true. Shit, shit, it's true. It's true.

"I didn't know," says Billy. "That is, I did. I only just figured it out, really. About a second ago."

"Who told you?" Dominic asks, still looking numb.

"Nobody told me," Billy says. "That is, no, you told me."

"I didn't. I never said a word."

"Exactly. That's just it. That's how I knew. Or should have known. Because you never said anything. All the time on the phone, you went on and on about Viggo and John and Karl and all those other people, what everyone did and how many eggs they had for breakfast and Lord knows what. But Orli -- you never ever mentioned Orli. I should have known that was odd. I had to worm things out of you: oh, by the way, didn't you also see Orli today? How is our friend Orli? And you just said, fine, he's fine."

Billy is babbling. He knows he's babbling but he can't stop himself. He has to babble in order to stem the panic rising in his throat.

"Bloody hell," he says. His voice drops to a whisper. "Couldn't you have picked someone else? Did it have to be a good friend of the both of us?"

Dominic has his hand over his face again.

"So," says Billy, trying to steady his voice, not succeeding. "Is that it then? You're in love with Orli now?"

He notices that Dominic's hand is shaking. Billy curls his hand around Dominic's; it's wet with tears. He pulls, and this time Dominic doesn't hold on, his hand lies limply in Billy's, and Billy sees that he's weeping uncontrollably.

"Dom," he whispers. "Please. Dom. Friend."

Then Dominic's face is pressed against his left shoulder; he's crying into Billy's shirt, one hand clutching at Billy's chest and the other gripping Billy's hand. Dominic makes incoherent noises in his throat and his shoulders quiver, and everything is awful. Everything is horrible and awful and blacker than black.

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Flashback: How things changed with Orlando.

The condoms Dominic had bought did, as it happened, remain unused for quite some time. Dominic went over to Orlando's room again, once or twice, true, but they only did handjobs and blowjobs. It was not nearly as intense as that first time on the beach, either. It was more of a mutual comfort thing, and afterwards they played cards or drank whisky out of the motel's toothbrush beakers or just lounged about, chatting about this and that.

It wasn't a problem for Dominic at all. He still longed for Billy but he liked being with Orlando, too. What they were doing was just friendly sex, basically.

Then one night, three weeks into the shoot, Orlando came knocking at Dominic's door. The lights were already out and Dominic was in bed. He'd talked to Billy on the phone and he'd wanked and, dozing off, he'd just barely registered a pair of raised voices in the car park, Orlando and Viggo's voices possibly, but he couldn't be sure, and then he'd fallen asleep. Minutes later: insistent knocking.

Dominic rubbed his eyes and shuffled to the door. Orlando stood there, shrugging apologetically. It was unclear at first why he had knocked. He came in, sat on the other twin bed and said, "Don't worry about the light. No need to turn it on." And then he just sat there, and Dominic went back to bed.

Two weeks earlier, Dominic might have said, 'Go away, Orli' but after their various intimacies together, he didn't like to say that. So he waited patiently for Orlando to come out with whatever it was that was bothering him. He never did come out with it but after a while, Orlando said, "Can I come in your bed?" to which Dominic replied, "Sure."

And although Dominic had wanked not twenty minutes earlier, by the time Orlando crawled in next to him, his cock was rock hard. The sheets rustled as Orlando squashed himself into the narrow space; he pushed his feet onto Dominic's legs, laid his head on Dominic's shoulder and put his hand on Dominic's bare belly.

That time was different from the ones before. Orlando was sweet and also sad, and what they did felt more like lovemaking than sex. They kissed for a very long time, almost trance-like kissing, drowning in the kiss and holding each other's heads, with Dominic's leg hooked over Orlando's hip. Then they started to move against each other more, and Dominic had to break the kiss in order to gasp. It was achingly slow.

When Orlando licked his earlobe and pushed his tongue into the spirals of his ear, Dominic dug his fingers into Orlando's buttocks and said:

"Orli?"

"Yeah?" Orlando whispered into his ear, flicking the back of it with the tip of his tongue.

Dominic moaned, and through the moan he said, "D'you want to fuck?"

Orlando stopped kissing his ear and remained still for quite some time, as if pondering this. He didn't move away, though. Dominic held his breath. He was just on the verge of saying, "We don't have to. Forget I said it", when Orlando finally replied:

"Yes. Okay."

"I've got condoms," said Dominic.

They did more kissing, and the kissing changed; it had a purpose now. After a bit, Dominic pulled out his bedside drawer and fished out the condoms and some lotion, and Orlando smiled and observed:

"It looks as if you've planned this."

There was a moment of awkwardness when it was unclear who would be putting on the condom, then Orlando said, "You can do me if you want to."

"You sure?" Dominic said.

"Yeah," Orlando said. "I'd like to feel you inside me."

It was unusual for Orlando to be so forthcoming. Dominic felt moved and looked at him. He wanted to say something nice to Orlando in return but he couldn't think of anything to fit the mood.

"Do you want me to turn over?" asked Orlando.

"No," said Dominic. "Are you okay like this?" He could have added, 'Because I'd like to see your face when you come' but he didn't. It seemed too intimate.

"Yeah, I'm okay," said Orlando.

They moved around a bit to get a good position. The bed was too narrow, and Dominic hit his knees against the bedframe a few times but he didn't swear. They piled pillows against the headboard, and Orlando leaned against those, and Dominic unrolled the condom over his cock and applied the lotion, grabbed one of Orlando's knees and with the other hand pushed his finger into Orlando, and then another finger, his eyes closed in concentration. Orlando folded his hand around Dominic's wrist, and then around Dominic's cock as he started to push into him, inch by inch. It felt very, very strange to be fucking someone who wasn't Billy, strange and also overwhelming. It was less deliriously passionate than with Billy, and somehow more serious.

He fucked Orlando very slowly. Orlando had one hand on Dominic's hip and the other around the root of Dominic's cock, and with the hand on the hip he guided Dominic into the rhythm he liked. After a while, of course, things got out of hand and Dominic moved faster, and Orlando seemed to like that, too, and Dominic ended up grinding his poor friend into the mattress so that Orlando's head hit the headboard a couple of times, the pillows having slipped off God knows where, but Orlando didn't seem to mind. He let go of Dominic and was pumping his own cock and going, "Mmmmmm", with his head thrown back as if in a dream. He came before Dominic did; Dominic could see the white fluid leap across Orlando's belly in the glow of the street lamps outside, and he could feel Orlando clench around his cock. That tipped him over the edge, and he came with a moan and another moan, and lowered himself gently onto Orlando, feeling Orlando's semen all over his skin.

When Orlando went back to his own room a while later, he paused at the door and said, "Thanks for letting me stay here a bit."

After that, Dominic found it hard to think of their times together as just a mutual sex thing any longer.

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Dominic is still clutching Billy and sobbing into his shoulder. He wants to bury himself in Billy's shoulder and disappear there. Probably forever. He also wants to stop crying but can't swallow the sobs. At the same time, the crying comes as a strange relief. It's as if these tears have been pent up in him for weeks and are now given a chance to pour out without restraint.

Billy at first sits there like a log, unmoving. Which is almost more terrible than anything. But after a while, he puts his arms around Dominic, loosely and then more tightly.

Dominic hears Billy's voice: "So, what are we going to do? If you've gone and fallen in love with Orli?"

There's a funny hiccuping noise, and when Dominic looks up he sees that Billy is crying, too. He's crying with his eyes wide open, his lips parted and his eyebrows contorted into misery.

This is unbearable.

"Don't cry," says Dominic in desperation. "Billy. Stop crying. Please don't cry." He touches Billy's face, and then he leans forward and licks off the tears, but there are so many that it's difficult. His mouth is full of a salty taste, and he can barely see Billy through the veil of tears in his own eyes.

"Billy, why are you crying?" he says, in between sobs.

"Because you..." begins Billy. "Because... "

"I'm sorry. I'm in such a mess. I'm in a real fucking mess. I'm sorry," Dominic says. He leans down to wipe his eyes on Billy's shoulder. "And I'm sorry about your shirt," he says. "I got it all wet."

"Don't worry about the stupid shirt," sniffs Billy.

"What is this shirt, anyway?" asks Dominic. "I don't remember this shirt."

"I bought it," says Billy. "I bought it specially."

"What? You bought it specially for me?"

"Yeah, for the day we saw each other again," says Billy, and he's got a small smile on his face. Tears and a smile.

The sight is too lovely for words. Dominic puts his hands around Billy's neck and his thumbs on the corners of Billy's mouth.

"It's a really nice shirt," he says. "It looks really nice on you." And that gets him going again, and he has to wipe his eyes yet again on said shirt.

Billy says, "Look at us; we're a right mess, aren't we?"

"Yeah," agrees Dominic, trying to smile.

"We really do need to get to the Houses of Healing," says Billy.

Now Dominic does smile, for real.

"I bought another shirt as well," continues Billy. "And some new boxer shorts. And I got you a present, too."

"You got me a present?" says Dominic. He's almost stopped crying. "I didn't get you a present."

"You got me the phone, remember?"

"Yeah. So where's my present?"

"It's in my room," says Billy.

"Right," says Dominic and takes a deep breath. He lets go of Billy and sits on the bed, looking at his friend. There are still some sobs lurking in his chest but the tears and the terrible crying spasms have stopped.

"Well," says Billy, "now that we've got that out of the way."

Dominic smiles again. Despite everything, it's good to be with Billy. It's soothing to sit here and talk about Billy's shirt and feel the warmth rising off Billy's body and look at Billy's dear face.

"Why didn't you tell me about all this?" asks Billy.

Dominic looks down at his hands. "It's not really something you can talk about over the phone," he says.

"Fair enough," agrees Billy.

They are silent for a while.

"So tell me now," says Billy.

"What? About Orli?"

"Yes. What happened. I mean, obviously, not everything that happened. But. I thought Orli had a thing with Viggo."

"Well," says Dominic slowly, still studying his hands and turning the ring on his thumb round and round. "I'm not sure about that."

"What do you mean, you're not sure? You didn't ask him?"

Billy sounds genuinely curious. He is truly interested in this.

"We never talked about that," Dominic says. "But I think -- Well, I'm not so sure about whether he has a thing with Viggo but he does have a thing for Viggo. I'm pretty sure about that."

"Right," says Billy. "I see."

"That's sort of the reason he -- You know. I think that's why he got onto me. We were both kind of lonely. I guess."

Dominic doesn't quite know how to put all this into words. He has, up to now, never tried to put it into words. And telling Billy was the last thing he had in mind. But, somehow, it's turned out to be the best thing.

He looks up. Billy is listening attentively.

"It's funny," Dominic continues. "Because what started it was really talking about you. We were at this beach and we started talking about what happened in the trailers. In Fangorn. And I said that I'd... done stuff with you."

"Oh, great," says Billy. "I was used as a sex aid."

Dominic laughs, despite himself.

He doesn't touch Billy; he feels awkward about touching Billy at the same time as talking about Orlando. But Billy doesn't seem bothered by that. He reaches up a hand and moves it through Dominic's hair.

They look at each other for a while.

"So," says Dominic and clears his throat. "Who did you sleep with then?"

"Oh, no one you know."

"Must be someone from the Minas Tirith crowd then. Boy or girl?"

Billy laughs. "What do you think, Dominic? Have a guess."

"I think it's that Faramir bloke," says Dominic. "David what's-his-name."

"Well, at least I didn't go and fall for anyone."

Dominic sighs. He can feel his stomach muscles relax. He slides down onto his back, settling his head in Billy's lap. He can feel Billy's cock against the top of his head, and that and Billy's hands moving through his hair and the not unpleasant heady sensation you sometimes get after a bout of weeping -- all combine to give Dominic his hard-on back.

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Flashback: How things got more complicated.

Orlando started to creep into Dominic's mind. Dominic found himself thinking about him at various times during the day, in the shower, for example, or on set, gazing at the transformation that was Legolas. He wondered what Orlando was thinking and why he liked to get off with Dominic. He watched him astride his horse, doing that shooting-the-double-arrows thing, and could never quite put the two together: Legolas with his bow, and Orlando with his arms around Dominic. He didn't really understand what Orlando was all about and what all that stuff with Viggo was about because, yes, there was something going on with Viggo, and it was somehow also connected with what was going on between Orlando and Dominic.

He never asked Orlando about it, and Orlando never alluded to it after that one time at the beach. Dominic didn't care, really, but he did wonder where all that melancholy in Orlando was coming from and whether it was caused by Viggo or whether it was just part of Orlando's personality. It rarely showed; Orlando continued to laugh and joke and smile and be cheerful nearly all of the time. It was only when making love that this wistfulness came out.

It was the wistfulness that got to Dominic in the end. It made those times with Orlando poignant in a way that sex normally wasn't for Dominic. It turned what they did into something more than sex, and that's what fucked up his thoughts with regard to Billy.

After that first time at the beach, he didn't mention the Billy-thing to Orlando again. Well, Dominic did mention Billy, of course, as in 'Billy rang today, he says "hi"', or 'Billy did the Rath Dinen scene today'. But never as in 'I'm going mad missing Billy but when I'm with you, Orli, I pretend he doesn't exist. And do you mind, Orli, do you mind about Billy?' He never asked that.

It was as if Dominic were trying to confine the Orlando-thing in a self-contained bubble that needn't infect any other part of his life. Which didn't work, of course.

Dominic started to worry about what the sex with Orlando was doing to his relationship with Billy. The problem was, of course, that he didn't really know what the relationship with Billy was, exactly. They had started this thing in the Fangorn trailer, not knowing what the thing was or where it would lead to, and before they'd had a chance to find out they'd been separated and left to fend each on his own. They talked on the phone, yes, but they didn't talk about themselves in terms of 'a relationship'. They just sort of floated along, marking time until they could be together again.

But time refused to be a vacuum; it refused to be marked. Time filled up with events and emotions, and one morning while shaving, Dominic realised with a painful jolt that he'd made love with Orlando many more times than he had with Billy.

The last week at the Dunharrow location came around, and the last five days, and the last four days, and Dominic got into a state. All too soon, they'd be at Minas Tirith together. Dominic would sleep in a room with Billy, or so he assumed, and he couldn't very well sneak out every other night to be with Orlando. The whatever-it-was with Orlando would have to stop, and Dominic would somehow have to warn Orlando of this in advance, and another day passed by and he still hadn't said a word.

During the third-last night, Dominic woke up in a sweat after another violent nightmare involving Billy. He screwed up his fists, dug them into his eye sockets and groaned into the empty room. What had happened over these past few weeks? Something precious seemed to have got broken, something precious and pure, and maybe it couldn't be mended again, and he would have to mourn it forever.

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Billy's eyes ache and he has that dry, clogged-up feeling in his head that you get after crying violently. He also still feels those icy fingers around his heart but they are, perhaps, a tiny bit less icy than at first, and it's certainly pleasant to have Dominic's head in his lap. In fact, it's pleasant to have Dominic here, full stop. And a miserable, crying, in-love-with-someone-else Dominic is still a hundred times better than no Dominic at all.

"Can I say something?" says Billy.

"Sure."

"I just want to say," begins Billy. "We were in that trailer for such a short time, you know. And then we were separated, and that was really crap timing."

"Oh, that sucked," agrees Dominic.

"I mean not just the separation but the timing of it. That it was so soon after... we... you know. We never really got a chance to get used to it. And we never said we wouldn't sleep with anybody else or anything like that. Did we? So... I'm thinking maybe we shouldn't worry about all that so much."

"Hm," says Dominic.

"I'm thinking that maybe if we can just pretend the separation never happened, and even that the trailer thing didn't happen, and we just start all over."

Dominic is silent. 'Shit,' thinks Billy. 'Wrong thing to say.'

"I'm not sure I can pretend those things," says Dominic. "And... and I don't like pretending things with you. That's what I like about being with you."

They are both silent now. But Billy's heart leaps because Dominic has said that he likes being with him, and that means hope, doesn't it? That must mean hope?

"I meant," says Billy. "Pretend as in: We don't have to do anything. We don't have to have sex. We can just go and have coffee or go out to dinner or something. And go from there."

Dominic sighs and nestles into Billy's lap. 'Thank Goodness,' thinks Billy. 'Right thing to say.'

"In fact," Billy goes on. "We can go out to dinner tonight. If you like. I've booked a table at this nice restaurant. Japanese. No one else'll be there; they'll all go to the welcome-back-together do that Ian is organising."

"You've booked a table?" asks Dominic.

"Yeah."

"For us? You booked a table so that we can, like, go out?"

"Yeah," says Billy, feeling himself blush. "Is that bad?"

"No," says Dominic, and his voice sounds strangely choked. "No, it's lovely. I'd love to go out to dinner with you. And open your present."

"You know," Billy says, his hands moving through Dominic's hair. "This is a bit like the Minas Tirith reunion scene. Merry with his head in Pippin's lap."

"Yeah," says Dominic, in a more normal voice. "When are we doing that scene?"

"I don't know," says Billy. "Tomorrow?"

"No, tomorrow's a day off. I think it's the day after."

"So we have a day to go over it," says Billy.

"How does Peter want it played, d'you think?"

"Well...," begins Billy. Then he cries out, "Oh, Dom, I'm so glad you're here again and we're back to discussing how we're going to do Pippin and Merry!"

And then Dominic does something that fits in exactly with Billy's daydreams about Pippin and Merry. He turns his head and breathes onto Billy's cock through the denim, and then he presses his mouth against Billy's half-open fly.

Billy sighs and tightens his hands in Dominic's hair.

Dominic rolls over and puts his arms around Billy's waist, tonguing Billy's groin. Then he starts tugging at Billy's jeans.

"Maybe that's not such a good idea," whispers Billy. "Maybe we shouldn't be rushing things..." Then he stops talking because Dominic has managed to push his trousers and boxer shorts down far enough to put his mouth directly on Billy's cock.

Billy lets himself fall backwards, and Dominic yanks the jeans and shorts off him, then pulls his own trousers off and lands on Billy. Their chests are pressed together and Dominic's mouth is all over Billy's face.

'It's stupid to do this,' thinks Billy vaguely. 'It won't solve anthing.' But he's kissing Dominic now, he's holding Dominic's head and moving his tongue against Dominic's tongue, and he knows he can't resist Dominic, he's never been able to resist Dominic, and it's this that he loves, Dominic hot and dry against him, burning him up with the force of his desire.

Dominic tries to take Billy's shirt off without breaking the kiss but after a while he moves off to mumble, "I can't get these stupid buttons off. I'm not used to having to unbutton you; you never wore buttons in the trailer." Billy laughs and helps him with the shirt, and Dominic pulls it off him and bites his naked shoulders, and then pulls his own top over his head, and then says, "Where's that condom? I want to fuck you."

"Oh, God, Dom," says Billy.

"Is that okay?" pants Dominic, licking Billy's jaw line and fumbling with one hand for the condom that is somewhere on the bed. "Is that okay? Can I fuck you?"

"Just get the condom, will you," mumbles Billy and pulls Dominic closer so that their cocks touch and they both gasp involuntarily.

Everything moves very quickly now. Dominic finds the condom, rips open the packet, rolls it over himself with Billy's hands around his fingers, pours lotion all over himself and over the bedclothes as well in his haste. Billy opens his legs, and Dominic bends down, and suddenly Billy feels Dominic's tongue lick from his hole all the way to his balls. Billy moans, and Dominic licks again, and again, and then his tongue swirls around Billy's entrance and the tip pushes in just a little bit, and Billy can't bear it and hears himself moaning, "Just fuck me, Dom, just fuck. Fuck me."

And before he's even finished saying it, Dominic is kneeling, looking down in concentration, pushing the head of his cock in, and Billy gasps, and all of a sudden there's a sharp pain, and Dominic's all the way in.

Billy cries out.

"Sorry," mutters Dominic, not moving. "Sorry, Billy; I'm so sorry. Couldn't help it. So hot."

It hurts, just as it did that first time with Dominic in the trailer, and much more than it did with David because David was very gentle and very slow. But Dominic is moving again already and Billy cries out again, and Dominic stops and says, "Sorry. Sorry again. Oh, fuck, Billy. You feel gorgeous."

He stays still now. Billy looks at his face, his Dominic, and Dominic's eyes are the most extraordinary colour and shape, and there are drops of sweat on Dominic's forehead. Billy moves his hips a bit, and Dominic gasps and jerks his head forwards, so Billy does it again, and it's not hurting so much any more, in fact, it's not hurting at all; Dominic is filling Billy up, he can feel him big and hot inside him, and there's a smell of latex and lotion, and then Billy moves more and faster, and Dominic grabs his hip and says, "No, no. I'm going to come if you do that."

"Then come," says Billy.

"No, I don't want to yet. We've only just started. We haven't even... Stop, Billy, stop."

Billy stops. They lie here, chests heaving.

"You're beautiful," says Billy.

"I'm so hot for you," says Dominic. "No, don't move."

"Think of something boring. Think of England."

"Ow, don't make me laugh."

"Something else, then. Think of sums."

"Sums?" asks Dominic.

"Yeah, do some sums," says Billy and starts moving again, lifting his hips right up and then down again. He can feel Dominic's cock slide up inside him and cries out, this time with pleasure. Dominic tries to grab Billy's cock but loses balance and puts his hands back on the mattress.

"Billy, I'm going to come," he gasps.

"Do three times five," moans Billy. "Don't stop moving."

"Fifteen. God, fuck."

"Eight times four."

"Eight times four. Shit, eight... times... four."

"Keep going. Hmm."

"Twenty-four .. no, that's wrong. God, this feels..."

"Hmm. Oh. oh."

"Thirty-two... or something."

Dominic has fallen onto Billy, his mouth on Billy's ear, and he's fucking him, he's fucking him madly, fucking him into the mattress and into the floor and into the very earth, that's what it feels like. He's hot and hard and wild inside Billy, and his belly is pressing against Billy's cock. And this is like nothing else, this roiling and moiling, and by now Billy is helpless, he's just holding on, he puts his hands round Dominic's neck and looks at Dominic's face, never taking his eyes off Dominic's eyes; Dominic is fucking him off the edge of the bed, Billy's head is hanging down over the side, and he's still holding onto Dominic, and Billy feels so hot he thinks he might pass out; the heat is spreading all through his body, into his toes and fingers and throughout his belly and burning, burning in his rectum, and he hasn't even come yet and already he feels as if he's on a different planet.

"I'm coming," moans Dominic. "I'm coming... now." And that's it; Dominic's shaking and making loud moaning sounds, his eyes fall shut, he's dripping with perspiration, and Billy can feel Dominic's cock pulse inside him.

"Oh, Billy," moans Dominic and drops his face into the crook of Billy's neck. "Billy. Sweet Billy."

Dominic has called him 'sweet'. Everything's going to be all right.

Of course, Billy has himself called David all sorts of things in bed but this is not the moment to be pondering that.

There's no time to ponder anything, in fact, because Dominic's out of him and off him and Dominic's mouth is around his cock, and how did that happen so fast? Billy moans out loud and grabs Dominic's hair; Dominic moves his mouth up and down the tip of Billy's cock, stroking him with his tongue, and that's hot, that's wet, and Billy's still dizzy from the fuck, and it only takes a few strokes for him to come into Dominic's mouth; he's shouting something incoherent, he's writhing around on the sheets, falling and sliding, and now literally landing on the carpet.

Dominic pulls him back onto the bed, cradling him in his arms. They are both shaking.

"God," says Dominic, his voice trembling. "Fuck, that's hot when you shout like that."

"Did I shout?" says Billy, voice trembling equally.

"You're so...", says Dominic and covers Billy's face in kisses. "I'd better get this condom off."

"I love you," says Billy.

Just then, a tinny melody jangles somewhere in the room.

"Oh, fuck, my mobile," mutters Dominic and hops out of bed, holding on to the soggy condom. He opens his bag, the sound gets louder, he pulls out the handset, he looks at the display. He turns the phone off.

"Who was it?" asks Billy.

"No one. It didn't say."

Billy closes his eyes.

"It was Orli, wasn't it?" he says.

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Flashback: How Dominic spent his second-last night in Dunharrow.

"Two more days to go!" Peter said that morning on set. "Then we all head over to the Minas Tirith set."

"Only two more days to go, Dom!" Billy said on the phone that afternoon. "I can't believe I'm going to see you again so soon!"

"Well, two more days to go," Orlando said that evening as he crossed the parking lot with Dominic, on their way back to the motel. "I bet you'll be glad to see Pippin again, eh?"

Did Orlando just mean that in a friendly way or was he alluding to something more? Did he realise that he wouldn't be spending nights with Dominic any longer? Dominic had no clue and felt ill because this was it. He couldn't procrastinate any longer. Time had caught up with him and he'd have to bring Billy up with Orlando. Now, soon, tonight.

"Want to come in for a bit?" said Orlando when they'd reached the landing. "Play cards?"

It had come to that: they communicated in their own special code words.

Orlando unlocked his door. "Come on," he said. "I want to show you something."

Dominic cast a long look at the stars above the motel's neon sign. He reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out his mobile and turned it off. He checked his other pocket. Then, squaring his shoulders, he followed Orlando into the room. The door fell shut behind him.

"What did you want to show me?" But he saw it already. Orlando had pushed the twin beds together to make one big bed, and he was lying on it, spread-eagled on his back.

"Nice," said Dominic, feeling faint.

He sat down on the chair by the desk. He couldn't even begin to put into words what he really felt about seeing that bed, the bedclothes carefully arranged across its breadth.

"So where are the cards?" he said instead.

"The cards? Okay, sure, the cards." Orlando sat up and patted the floor under the bed until he found the pack.

"I shuffle, you deal?" he asked. And proceeded to shuffle.

Dominic realised he was behaving oddly. It was odd of him to be sitting on this chair and to be insisting on a real card game.

"I just wanted to say," he began, staring at the framed photograph of a New Zealand landscape above the space where the centre twin bed used to stand. "Seeing as we have only two days left. I just wanted to say that..."

Orlando dropped one of his cards to the floor. Bent to retrieve it.

"That," continued Dominic. "Just that we probably shouldn't... I mean, definitely shouldn't... do stuff any more. Once we're in Minas Tirith." He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the photograph. It showed a snow-covered mountain on the other side of a round, blue lake.

"Right. Of course," said Orlando, not looking up from his cards, still shuffling them like mad.

"Good. That's that then," said Dominic. His palms were sweating.

"Is this because of Billy?" asked Orlando.

"No. I mean, yes. Yes. You know." End of conversation. Please.

But no. Orlando stopped shuffling and turned the deck round and round in his hands.

"Is he jealous or what?" he asked.

Dominic stared at the photograph some more. He was getting to know that particular mountain quite well, the way it sloped up behind the lake. He wondered where it was. He wanted to be there. It reminded him of somewhere, of a place he might have visited a long time ago and where he had felt happy. Actually, he just wanted to be in bed with Orlando, getting on with things. But two more days! Worse, this was now late evening and that meant it wasn't even two more full days, more like one-and-a-half days.

"Orli," he said, letting his head drop back against the wall. "We just can't go on doing this once we're away from here. You know that, right?"

"I thought it was just a weird sex thing," said Orlando, and that was the first time he'd ever alluded to their confessions at the beach. Or, as a matter of fact, acknowledged that Dominic and he were having a 'thing' at all.

"Yeah but," said Dominic. It was the 'but' that was giving him the headaches. The weird sex he could cope with but the 'but' was driving him insane.

"Your thing with Billy in the trailer," said Orlando.

Oh. When Orlando had said 'weird sex thing', he hadn't meant Dominic and Orlando at all. He'd meant Dominic and Billy!

Bloody hell, why was this so difficult?

"Look," Dominic said slowly. "The thing started as a weird sex thing but then... Well, you know. Billy and me... We're friends."

"We're friends," said Orlando, still turning the cards round and round.

'Who?' thought Dominic. 'Who's friends?'

"Forget it," Orlando said abruptly, throwing down the cards on the sheet. "I need a smoke."

He got up, grabbed his pack from the bedside table and pushed past Dominic towards the door. Dominic reached out a hand to stop him; the hand landed somewhere on Orlando's waist.

"What?" said Orlando.

Dominic got up off his chair. His hand still on Orlando's waist, he leaned forwards and touched Orlando's lips with his own. Orlando kept his mouth closed but he didn't move away. Dominic let his tongue skim along Orlando's lips, trying to pry them apart. He put his hands on either side of Orlando's face, where the shaved skin of Orlando's skull felt smooth under his fingers, and he pushed his groin into Orlando's, and finally, Orlando opened his mouth.

"Hm," said Dominic, and after a while, "You taste of nicotine."

"Do you want me to brush my teeth?" murmured Orlando.

"No, stay here; I like it," said Dominic.

"Let's go on the bed," said Orlando.

"I thought you needed a smoke."

"Nah," said Orlando, smiling and kissing Dominic softly, so softly, on the corner of his mouth.

They dropped down on the bed, scattering playing cards everywhere, and they kissed some more, and after a while Dominic broke away and looked at Orlando's head against the pillows. The bedside lamp cast the right-hand side of his face into shadow, and carved the left side into pools of light and dark. Orlando's eyes looked smudged, and gazing at them too long made Dominic feel solemn and light-headed all at once. He wanted to say something to Orlando to make him laugh but he couldn't think of anything. Also, he was now quite aroused so, instead of talking, he fumbled with Orlando's fly and put his hand on Orlando's cock.

Which was small and soft.

How strange. How...

"D'you mind what I said?" Dominic murmured. He could envelop all of Orlando's cock in his fist, as if his dick were a little kitten. "About not doing this any more?"

"No," said Orlando, not taking his eyes off Dominic. "No problem." He started to breathe faster as Dominic massaged him. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Anyway..." His cock began to grow in Dominic's hand. "There's nothing to tell, is there? It's not as if we're... Mmmmm." Orlando closed his eyes, hands cupping Dominic's elbows.

"No," whispered Dominic. "It's not as if we're --." But to himself he thought, 'Perhaps it is a little bit as if we were --.'

Orlando threw his head back, his neck arching into the pillows and his hands gripping Dominic's arms.

'How can I bear it?' Dominic thought. 'How can I bear not having this any more?'

Then Orlando placed his hands over Dominic's temples and fanned his fingers out into Dominic's hair, massaging his scalp with the tips of his fingers. And that was another gesture that Dominic had become familiar with and that he would now probably never experience again. Ever. He closed his eyes, leaned into Orlando's hands and moved his head up and down.

"Do you like that?" Orlando asked. He actually asked if Dominic liked something. He'd never asked that before.

"Yeah," mumbled Dominic. And fell back into Orlando's kiss, pulling at his lips very gently and running his tongue along Orlando's teeth.

"The bed's good," Dominic said after a while. "Good idea, to make it bigger."

"Yeah, even if only for one night," said Orlando.

"Only one? I thought we had another night here tomorr -- Oh. Okay."

"I just think... Last night, you know, so close in time. Would be stupid. Maybe."

"Yeah," said Dominic. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of that? And did that mean... Was this going to be their last time together?

Dominic swallowed. He looked at Orlando again, at Orlando's impossible expression, and Orlando looked back, and then abruptly rolled out from underneath Dominic.

"I need a piss," he said.

As soon as Orlando had disappeared into the bathroom, the Billy-thoughts came crowding in relentlessly. 'One-and-a-half more days' and 'What the fuck' and 'What is this doing to Billy?'. Finally, worse of all: 'What is this doing to Orli?'

There was a clinking sound in the bathroom.

"You okay?" Dominic shouted, voice uncertain.

"Yeah, just the bloody toothbrush glass; it fell down."

"You're not in there brushing your teeth?"

"Well, yeah, I just did."

Dominic didn't reply. He closed his eyes. Then he opened them again, took off his clothes, folded them on the chair, fished the two condoms out from his pocket and laid them on top of his clothes pile. He then crept under the blankets, leaving only his head poking out. He felt the texture of the sheets against his skin. They smelled of Orlando.

"You okay?" he called out again. "That's one long piss."

There was some muttering through the door.

"Sorry, what did you just say?" cried Dominic. Was Orlando in there, getting into a state because...?

The door creaked, the toilet flushed, Orlando was back in the room. He flashed a smile at Dominic, and that smile was so open and at the same time so tragic that it made the hairs on Dominic's arms stand up.

Orlando sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly turned the covers down. "Well," he said, and Dominic shivered, just hearing Orlando say 'well' on discovering that Dominic was naked.

"What's that you've got on your back?" Orlando peeled something off Dominic's skin. "It's a card; it got stuck to you." He flipped it onto the sheet.

It was the Jack of Hearts.

"C'mere," Dominic said and pulled Orlando down on top of him. "Get your gear off."

"Where are the...?"

"Hang on."

"Hm."

"I've got..."

"Roll over."

They ended up with Orlando lying on his back and Dominic sitting in his lap, unrolling the condom over Orlando and squirting generous dollops of lotion onto Orlando's cock. Orlando held out his palms for some lotion as well, and then pressed his hand against Dominic's anus.

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah," said Dominic, closing his eyes.

At first, the lotion was cold against his skin, but as Orlando worked his thumb in, things started to heat up and feel slithery, and the sheer anticipation of what was to happen made Dominic sweat.

He lowered himself very carefully onto Orlando. They had several attempts because they weren't used to this position but then Orlando slid in, just the head of his cock, and Dominic's arms started to shake with the effort of holding himself up, hovering on Orlando's cock.

Orlando moved, and bit by bit, Dominic pushed himself down on him, eyebrows pulled together in concentration. They started out slowly, because Orlando liked to start slow. Dominic knew that; it was another one of those amazing things that he now knew and would carry about with him for the rest of his days: Orlando liked to start slow. But soon enough, Dominic took over, he couldn't hold back, he sped up, riding up and down on Orlando's cock, mouth open, grabbing his own cock, sliding up against Orlando's taut belly, taut with lust.

"Don't," said Orlando, pulling Dominic's hand away. "Don't come yet. Want you to do me later."

"Can't," Dominic gasped. "Can't wait. Sorry."

"Sblomie," said Orlando and closed his own fist around Dominic's cock.

"Orli," said Dominic.

And he knew that was bad, very bad, or he should have known, except that he was too busy moaning and coming into Orlando's hand, but it would have been better for them to have sex twelve times in a row than to gaze into each other's eyes and say 'Sblomie' and 'Orli'. That was very bad. And what was even worse was the sight of Orlando arching his neck back and going "Mmmmm", Orlando's face smoothing out into an expression of bliss, such an abandoned expression, an expression that Dominic now knew and loved, and loved coaxing out of Orlando.

It was bad all right.

"I'd better go now," Dominic said afterwards.

"Why don't you stay here?" Orlando said, not looking at Dominic, studying something on the ceiling. "Bed's big enough."

"No," Dominic said quickly. "I can't."

He held his breath. He knew that if Orlando now said 'please', he would stay.

But Orlando didn't say 'please'. He just turned his face to Dominic, and there was a little crease at the corner of his mouth.

It was that, more than anything else and much more than the sex. It was the little crease and the melancholy of Orlando that seeped into Dominic. Fatally, catastrophically, like a poem read to someone else.

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"It was Orli on the phone, wasn't it?" says Billy. But it's hardly necessary to ask. The expression on Dominic's face tells him everything.

"So ring back," says Billy, trying to calm his breathing which is still all over the place from his orgasm with Dominic, and trying to calm his pulse rate which has shot up since that damned phone rang. It is not a helpful combination.

"No" says Dominic.

"Go on. Find out what he wants."

"No. I can find out later."

"What? Why later? Do you need privacy to talk to him, is that it?" Oh God, why is he saying this? This will destroy everything.

"No, I don't need fucking privacy to talk to Orli!" snaps Dominic, still crouching on the floor, sodden condom in one hand, mobile phone in the other.

"Then why don't you ring him now?" Shut up, shut up.

"Will you give it a rest!" Dominic is shouting now. Not good.

"Okay, I'll ring him then," says Billy and is shocked at how icy his own voice sounds. He marches over to where his jacket lies discarded on the carpet, torn off by Dominic in an earlier life, and reaches into the jacket's inner pocket for the phone. The phone Dominic gave him.

"No!" shouts Dominic again.

"Why not? He's my friend, too." He's being childish, he's gabbling; he knows it and he does it, anyway, and it has a predictable and horrible effect.

"Fuck off, Billy!" screams Dominic.

"No, fuck you!" shouts Billy. "Fuck you!"

"I'm going to throw the fucking phone at you if you don't shut up!"

"Okay, throw it then! Fuck! Throw it!"

And Dominic does. He hurls the phone across the room. It flies through the air in a low arc, almost in slow motion, and clatters against the skirting board. There it lies, black and inert. It's come nowhere near Billy.

Dominic's off the floor. He pulls at the topmost item poking out of his holdall, his kimono-type dressing gown, he uses the corner to wipe his dick, he drops the condom onto the floor, knots the kimono's belt, and he's off. He storms across the carpet, not a glance at Billy, and into the corridor. The door slams so hard behind him that flakes of plaster trickle down the frame.

He has stormed out, out of the room and out of Billy's life. He's run out of his own room, in nothing but a short dressing gown. His key is still lying on the floor, right next to Billy's jacket.

Billy sinks onto the carpet, stunned.

What just happened? What the fuck just happened? One minute they were moaning on the bed, the next Dominic has stormed out of the room. How did that happen so fast?

Shit, fuck. No.

One thing he could do is to get up and run out into the corridor after Dominic. That would be a good thing to do. But Billy is naked, he's dazed, and he's terrified of what Dominic might say to him in the corridor or where exactly Dominic might be headed in this hotel full of cast and friends.

Billy stands up. His legs feel like putty. He walks slowly into the bathroom, washes himself, very methodically, has a pee, steps back into the main room, foot by foot, starts picking things up off the floor at random; there seem to be things everywhere, jacket, key, condom, boxers, trousers, shoes, socks, shirt -- shirt's not on the floor, where is it? Oh, yes, snarled in the bed sheets. For a second, Billy has to stop; the sheets reek of sex, he's having a funny turn, the world is spinning, and he has to hold on to the bedpost until his head clears.

From somewhere, there comes a loud, clanging noise. Billy looks up. It's some sort of building works, just outside, in the street below, metal hammering on metal. Through the window, Billy can see electricity cables swinging in the wind and a loose poster flapping against the concrete wall opposite.

Billy pulls on his boxers, his trousers, his shirt. It takes him forever to button it up, he keeps getting the alignment wrong so that there's a spare button hole at the top or the bottom.

Now he can't avoid it any longer. He turns around and slowly moves his eyes to where the phone is waiting, like a black cockcroach, up against the skirting board.

Billy gets down on all fours and crawls towards the phone. He presses 'On'. The display lights up. The phone goes 'beep'. There's a text message. Billy stares at the text-message icon, blinking in the upper left-hand corner of the display. The phone seems to weigh several pounds in his hands. He presses another key and the words 'Read now?' appear. Billy's thumb hovers over the 'Yes' button.

But it's not his phone. It's Dominic's phone. It's Dominic's life.

Billy puts the phone back on the carpet.

There's a knock at the door.

Billy freezes.

Whoever's knocking, knocks again.

'God, it's Orli,' thinks Billy. He drags himself to a standing position and, with one hand brushing the wall, he stumbles towards the door.

Here's the door. He's standing in front of it. He tries to pull his facial muscles into some semblance of a neutral smile. He turns the door knob.

"Dom," he says in surprise. At least, that's what he intends to say but he only gets as far as "Do--" before he's crushed against Dominic's chest and having the breath squeezed out of him.

"Grk", chokes Billy but that only makes Dominic squeeze harder. Billy's arms are pinned to his sides, his ribs feel as if they might crack, Dominic's chin is pressing into his clavicle.

Dominic. Real bones, real flesh.

He's also wearing nothing but his kimono, and it's fallen open at the front.

"Dom," says Billy and tries to loosen Dominic's death grip.

"Billy," says Dominic into Billy's neck.

Billy frees his arms and wraps them around Dominic's back. Through the thin cotton of the kimono, he can feel every vertebra in Dominic's spine and the wing shapes of his shoulder blades.

He pulls back until Dominic lifts his head and he can look into his eyes.

"D'you know that you totally exhaust me?" Billy says. "You've been here, what? An hour at most. And already I feel completely and totally exhausted."

Dominic starts licking Billy's jaw.

"Drained," mumbles Billy. "Bloody roller coaster."

"D'you mind?" mutters Dominic.

"Not when it ends up like this," says Billy. Well, and that's almost true.

Dominic puts his hands on Billy's temples, pressing his fingers into Billy's hair and massaging his scalp.

"That feels nice," whispers Billy.

For a split second and for some unknown reason, Dominic yanks his fingers away but then he smiles and puts them back and leans his forehead against Billy's forehead. Billy suspects why Dominic has hesitated, he has felt a similar thing himself. He knows that gestures can get repeated and blurred and cease belonging to one person only. But he doesn't mind. Now that Dominic's back in his arms he doesn't mind a thing.

"I didn't do such a great job storming," Dominic says. "Remind me not to storm out of my own room next time round. Without a key."

"And bare cheeked," says Billy.

They laugh.

"Did you frighten away the hotel staff at least?" asks Billy.

"Well, I did see one room service guy with a trolley, so I ran up the stairs to another floor. And then I saw John come out of the lift."

"John?" giggles Billy. "Was your belt already undone by then?"

"Oh." Dominic looks down himself. "Shit. Didn't even notice this."

Billy kisses Dominic's face, just below the right eye. Listening to Dominic makes him feel warm throughout, and the warmth is thawing the last remnants of the icy fist in his chest.

"There's a text message for you," he says.

"Oh," says Dominic. "Right." He knots up his belt.

"It's from Orli," says Billy. "Why don't you ring him back? And I don't mean that in a mean way this time," he adds quickly.

"I know," says Dominic. He walks over and picks up his phone. Billy follows and looks over his shoulder.

The message says, 'HI DO U WANT TO COME 4 COFEE OR BER.'

Seems harmless enough. A quick look at Dominic, however, reveals that this message may contain some painful undertones.

Billy decides to be matter-of-fact.

"What's 'ber'?" he asks.

"Must be beer," says Dominic.

"Right."

"Coffee or beer."

"I think Orli's more in love with you than you are with him," says Billy. These must be the undertones. The very fact that Orlando is so desperate to see Dominic.

"Rubbish."

"Well," Billy admits. "Not that I would know. But you must know."

"I think Orli's sad," says Dominic.

Oh God, Dominic thinks that Orlando's sad. That is a sign. Billy himself, for example, doesn't think that David is sad, and he doubts very much that people who just have some sex for the heck of it worry too much about each other's sadnesses.

"Sad?" Billy says out loud. "What do you mean, Orli's sad?"

Dominic shrugs. "I dunno. He just seems sad. I don't know why. Viggo or whatever, or maybe it's just him."

"Or you?" says Billy.

Dominic shrugs again. Billy puts his arm around Dominic's shoulder.

"He doesn't seem sad to me," he says. "He didn't seem sad before, coming off the helicopter. He seemed perfectly cheerful. Like always."

"Oh, he doesn't show it," says Dominic. "Only when --" He stops abruptly.

"So do you have a crush on him, or do you feel sorry for him? Or what?" asks Billy.

Dominic turns to Billy. His brow is knit and he's half smiling, half frowning in that lopsided way.

"Billy," he says. "How do you make everything seem so uncomplicated? When you know it's not?"

'I know it's not,' thinks Billy. 'My dear, dear Dom, I know it's not.' But he doesn't want another shouting match and he certainly doesn't want another bout of weeping. Not right now, anyway.

"Ring him," says Billy. "If he really is lonely, you should ring him. We'll go for coffee." And, recklessly, he adds, "We can all go."

"No, I can't do that," says Dominic and squirms out from under Billy's arm.

"Yes, you can. Go on. It'll be nice. The three of us. Like the old days, except without Lijah. And then tonight we'll go out to that Japanese restaurant. Just you and me."

"And I'll get my present?"

"Yes, you'll get your present. My dear thorny friend."

Dominic looks at Billy for the longest time. Then he keys in the number.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Dominic presses the phone to his ear. He listens to the ring tone, 'prrp', 'prrp', 'prrp'. His heart is beating quite absurdly. He can't imagine what Orlando will say or what Orlando's voice will do to him. He has a vision of Orlando somewhere on a windy street corner, alone and huddled in his coat. Possibly getting rained on.

'Plk', goes the phone, and then comes Orlando's voice: "Hello? Dom?"

He's said 'Dom'. He knew it was him. He has Dominic's number programmed into his phone.

"Hi," says Dominic. It feels bizarre talking to Orlando with Billy in the room. Billy has tactfully moved away to sit on the bed. Even so there are butterflies in Dominic's stomach.

"Ya alla hoo," says Orlando. That's what it sounds like, anyway.

"What?" says Dominic. "I can hardly hear you. What's that noise?"

"Oh, sorry," says Orlando, more distinctly. "We're in a cafe. That's why I rang. Do you want to come? It's really quite good here, beats those Dunharrow dumps."

"You're in a cafe?" Dominic says blankly.

"Yeah, Viggo's here, too," says Orlando.

"Viggo? I see." Dominic doesn't really see. But Viggo!

"Yeah. And Karl."

So much for standing huddled on a street corner.

"Also a bloke called David," Orlando continues. "David Wenham. He's the one who plays Faramir."

"Oh," says Dominic, glancing over at Billy. "David Wenham, eh?"

"Yeah. He says he'd like to meet you."

"Oh, I'm sure he would," says Dominic. "And I'm certainly very interested in meeting David Wenham. Was that his name? David Wenham?"

Billy has jumped off the bed and is mouthing, 'What? What?'

Dominic grins.

"And bring Billy," says Orlando. He names the cafe. "Billy knows where it is. David says they come here all the time."

"Oh, David says that, does he?" replies Dominic, still grinning and hopping out of the way of Billy's wild gesticulations. "David Wenham, that is? He goes there all the time with Billy, does he?"

"Are you coming, then?" asks Orlando.

Dominic stops grinning and stops saying 'David Wenham'.

"Yeah," he says slowly.

"Perhaps we can play cards," adds Orlando. It's difficult to pick up his tone of voice over the phone. But that's what he says.

Dominic bursts out laughing, then stops. He shoots a quick glance at Billy and says, lowering his voice. "I don't think so, Orli. Not today, anyway."

"Didn't think so, either," says Orlando. "Ah well, better luck next time."

"Are you drunk?" asks Dominic.

"Nah, we're having coffee!"

Dominic smiles. Orlando can't see his smile, of course, but he can't help but smile into the phone as if Orlando were there before him. And soon Orlando will be there before him, and Billy will be there next to him, and that'll be... interesting. But as long as Orlando can joke and say, 'Let's play cards', it might just be all right, too. Just. Might.

"Okay, see you in a few minutes then," he says and hangs up.

"What? What was that all about?" cries Billy. He's hopping up and down as if stung by a wasp. "What's not happening today? Where are we going in a few minutes? And what's all this about David?"

"Ha!" snorts Dominic. "Thought you'd be interested in that. Yeah, they're all down at this coffee shop, some sort of popular hang with you and David, and they want us to come."

"Who's all?"

"Orli, Viggo, Karl, and, oh, what was the other guy's name, David."

"Oh, shut up," says Billy, still bouncing from one foot to the other.

"David," repeats Dominic. "I was right about him, wasn't I?"

"Will you stop saying that?"

"David. David. I just like to see you blush, that's all. You look cute."

"I'm not blushing."

"Oh yes, you are. You're all pink." And Dominic kisses Billy on his pink cheeks and on his pink nose.

"You know what," says Billy. "Orli in the cafe. Doesn't sound too sad to me."

"Yeah..." says Dominic thoughtfully.

"Maybe it's not Orli who's sad," suggests Billy. "Maybe it was you who was sad."

"I have been sad," says Dominic. "I guess I have been sad a lot." That's not the whole story. He knows it's not and he suspects that Billy probably knows it, too.

"Anyway," he goes on to say in a different voice. "Don't get off the subject. We were talking about your lovely new boyfriend, David."

"He's not my boyfriend, and will you stop it," says Billy and giggles.

"There you go; all pink again," says Dominic. He takes Billy in his arms. Billy is warm, he's got fluttery hair to run your fingers through, he's got a soft forehead to kiss and a sweet body to cuddle.

"You won't be mean to David, will you?" asks Billy. "No more roller coaster?"

"No," says Dominic. "At least only a little bit. Ow, don't bite my chin. I won't really be mean. I'll be charm itself. And, Billy. You'll be nice to Orli, won't you?"

"Of course I will be!" cries Billy. "You forget that I'm very fond of Orli! We've been friends forever; I've known him longer than I've known you."

"What? Because you flew out on the plane with him? That's all of twenty-four hours longer."

"I'm just saying. I'll be nice to Orli, don't you worry." Billy sighs.

Dominic looks out of the window over Billy's shoulder. Suddenly he recognises the view. That snow-capped mountain in the distance, behind the buildings and TV antennas in the foreground -- that is the mountain he saw on the photograph in Orlando's motel room. He can't see the lake in front of it but it's sure to be there, on the other side of this town. The mountain has a perfect shape, as close to a cone as you can get. And although the sky is grey and clouds are scudding by, the mountain still manages to look majestic as well as a little mysterious.

"We'll be all right, won't we?" asks Dominic.

"Dear little Dom," says Billy, stroking the hair off Dominic's forehead. "You worry too much. You take things too much to heart."

"Only you," says Dominic softly. "I take you to heart."

The End.

------------------------------------------------

Continued in A Perfect Day

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25 March 2002