Understand

Understand

Summary: Dom and Billy have a fight, Dom thinks Billy is a tease, Billy reflects. Dom just doesn’t understand sometimes…and Billy doesn’t really want him to. Angst, blood, issues and some unknown problem involved.

Author/s: Di and Lillia
This is officially my story, and my name is Di. My buddy Lillia here just added some stuff, fine tuned a couple things, she wrote most of this intro stuff here because I hate filling in these little technicalities, and she added the bit with the candle in. damn pyromaniac. “Couldn’t resist, sorry. I love fire, and wax, and blood, and fire…did I mention fire?” ~Lillia Yes now shut up! Anyways, we are the people who wrote this…so yeah…be afraid.

Length: as of now, this is a one-shot…but it may get longer if we get good feedback.

Rating: we weren’t sure about this. Some of the things that happen in this chapter could be shown on regular cable, so we estimate it’s a rough PG13…but we’re going to put it as a soft R just to be safe...and because you cant write PG13 on this site. Don’t worry, if there are more chapters, the rating will get worse anyways. I know Di would like to try her hand at smut.

Warnings: this story deals with Slash between two men, for one. if you don’t like, don’t read, and although we accept flames, if they’re about it being slash, and Di is in a bad mood…be prepared for a counterattack. ‘Yeah, so you fucking homophobes, back off!!’ -Di Also, this story deals with some…issues. There is blood and injury beyond here, just so you know. Also, something akin to depression, although I’m not really sure that’s what it is. Just so you guys know.

Archive: HAHAHA is there actually anyone who wants to archive this? If you actually do, just ask first. Di will give you permission most likely…unless she’s in a bad mood.

Disclaimer: If either of these guys ever read this, they’d either laugh their asses off…or get severely angered, sickened…and scared. This is absolutely not true. None of this happened. We just happen to get bored every now and then and can think of nothing better than two famous, good-looking men, together. Dom, Billy, please forgive us.

Notes: Neither of us are gay men, so if we get something wrong about that, please let us know. Also, this is both mine and Di’s first slash fic ever, even though I suppose this isn’t really mine, but I helped, so give us (her) a break on things. We’re both veteran slash readers, though. Oh, and look hard as you might…there is no real smut or sex in this chapter. Sorry guys…hey, we’re inexperienced at this and we were both raised as Catholics. It’lke uke us awhile, but if we write more on this, we’ll get there. Oh, a ~...~ signifies a FLASHBACK.

And now to my girl Di’s story! Please try to understand, I know its hard…she’s a psycho. *Di pulls out hammer* “I warned you! you’ve been very bad, Lillia!” uh…yeah…I gotta go now…!
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Dom just doesn’t understand. He’s still mad at me. I know, because he didn’t talk to me at all today. Nor did he look me in the eye. Merry talked to Pippin and Merry looked Pippin in the eye, when the script called for it. But Dom wouldn’t look at me, Billy. We got into another fight a few nights ago; this one was kind of big. But we’re mature enough that we keep our fights to ourselves and off the camera. Actually, I think I act a little better when I’m pissed off or upset. Just the way it goes.

But Dom doesn’t understand. He thinks I’m some kind of tease or something. I guess I can’t blame him for thinking that. See, we started ‘going together’ almost a month ago. It had been amazingly wonderful, at first, and I don’t mean physically wonderful, even though that was a perk. I had been so happy…emotionally wonderful like…there was nothing wrong in the world…no, more like there were things wrong in the world but none of it could touch me. It was just that, I had liked him for so long…but you know, you can never really tell if a guy’s river runs down that way, unless you ask, and I never had enough guts to ask. But in the end, I didn’t have to…

~Dominic and I were sitting on the floor, watching a game of football on the telly. At least I had been watching it, but then I slowly lost focus with the game, and stared absently at a spot above the screen. My head cradled in my hand, I was d awa aware of Dom speaking. I had no idea what he was saying, because I couldn't really focus on the words, but I was aware he was speaking. I was spaced out, yet again. This I knew, yet I had little idea of how I knew this, as I could not form a real thought. My eyes were open, but anything I saw my brain didn't register. My mind was blank, completely empty, not even a thought about Dom noticing I was spaced out. Then I felt myself getting dizzy. I was dimly aware that Dom had stopped speaking. Then he was speaking again, what I didn’t know nor did I much hear.

-This wasn’t so strange for me. It was becoming quite common for me to space out. I had picked up the practice in the last years of my public schools, during boring classes like history and chemistry. Eventually it became so I didn’t even have to be bored to space out, but it was always worse if I was. I think the one part that always got to me was that while in school I was always accustomed to daydreaming, in this I had no control. I could not make myself snap out of it. Plus, it came unbidden, at most inopportune times, and wouldn’t leave unless driven away. I guess I should be concerned that this practice prolonged into adult life…but it never really surfaced quite as much as it had recently. Like it had at that moment…before…-

I felt a touch on my arm, "Billy?"

I jumped, shocked out of my unwanted reverie and then was forced to breathe heavily before I could answer. "Huh? Oh, um...yeah, Dom?" I asked, turning to face him. I had stopped breathing...How long had I been spaced out? Had he been trying to talk to me that whole time?

Dom looked concerned. "Billy, are you okay?"

I forced a fake laugh. "Yeah, I’m fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked, still looking at me strangely.

"Yeah...I was just...distracted." I gave him a warm smile.

"Distracted?....Were you listening to me at all?" Dominic asked.

I offered him an apologetic smile. "No...sorry. What were you saying?"

He was silent for a moment. "You know...I forgot. Kind of funny because, as you know..."

I stopped hearing him. I had started staring up at the stain on the ceiling, a little ways ahead of me. It looked strangely like a spider, and as I stared at it I thought I saw its 'legs' start waving back and forth. And then I just stopped seeing it. A small part of me was aware that I was spacing out again, the same part of me that had an idea that Dom was again speaking. But I didn’t even try to make sense of the sounds that drifted to me; the effort would have been too difficult. If I saw him move, I didn’t realize it. If I saw his hand, I wasn't aware of it...until it cupped over my cheek and gently pulled my face down.

I inhaled deeply, held it a moment before I let it out and then breathed heavily for a short time. I had stopped breathing again. I blinked twice, before I realized that Dom was now kneeling in front me, instead of next to me, where he’d been a moment before. His face was less than a foot away from mine, and his hand was still resting on my cheek.

"Billy?" he asked softly. There was concern in his eyes.

How long had I been spaced out this time? …Why do I always stop breathing?-This had been a new development that I don’t remember from my teenage years.-

"Billy?" he asked, his voice louder. I snapped back to attention.

"Yeah, Dom?" I answered softly.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

I smiled at him. The smile was fake, but I barely thought about it. I’m accustomed to fake smiles. "Yeah...I’m sorry, what were you saying?"

He hesitated. "It doesn’t matter."

I looked at him, then over at his arm and realized that his hand was still on my face. Appropriately, although annoyingly, my face began to heat up. "Erm...Dom?" I asked, glancing over at his hand.

He just smiled. "If it keeps you here and not...wherever you go to...I’m keeping it there." He informed me.

After a moment, I nodded. It wasn’t strange for us to be in close contact like this…but it usually didn’t last this long unless we were goofing around. "Alright...but I don’t know what you're talking about. I don’t go anywhere." I said slowly.

He sighed. “Then stay here…with me.”

I nodded slowly. After a moment, Dominic sprung up a conversation about a really strange spider he had found on his way, today. I’ve never really understood Dom’s attraction to spiders, or any insect for that matter. I’m not one to kill all insects in my path, but I just would never go and pick them up if I didn’t have to. I’m not afraid of any of them…I just don’t like them very much. But I feigned interest as he rambled on about its strange color, markings, and size.

As he went on, I got a little bored, and then recalled how the stain had looked like a spider, and glanced up at it. It didn’t look that much like a spider, I realized. I tilted my head up to get a better look. As I stared for a while, I could still hear him talking, but the words blended together with the noise of the game and became a constant hum that was easily blocked out of my mind, even though I hadn’t meant to. I stared up at a spot near the stain, and watched numbly as it went in and out of focus. I could feel the warmth and pressure on my cheek moving slightly, but somehow I didn’t recognize or wonder what it was. I saw something come into my vision, but my gaze remained transfixed on the same place the spot had been. Then I felt the pressure and something against my lips.

I jerked, blinked twice and realized, in shock, that Dom’s lips were against my own. Then I pulled away from him, and gasped, sucking in air into my throbbing lungs. As my head lowered, I pulled air in and out of my lungs heavily. I felt Dom’s hand on the back of my neck, stroking the hair there and his other hand caressing the side of my face while he murmured, “Breathe” softly to me.

After I regained my oxygen, I lifted my head and noticed him there in front of me. Then I realized suddenly: Dominic Monaghan just kissed me. He smiled at me, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid of what he had done. Reaching out a hand I cautiously touched his cheek, and then, slid my hand down his neck, his skin was warm beneath his rough stubble. Pulling him forward, I felt my heart thudding within my chest, the beat pounding out in the hollow of my throat as I touched my lips gently onto his. They were warm and supple, not as soft as I had imagined: masculine lips. It wasn’t even a heartbeat later that Dom had his lips pressed firmly to mine, and then his hands slid around my middle, pulling me closer, as his tongue slipped between my lips. His tongue was moist and firm, tickling the roof of my mouth as it ghosted across, sliding around my own before allowing me a turn. Everything was in perfect focus, now…Dom tastf saf salt and a smoky, slick flavor…and, as my tongue reached a back corner of his mouth, he tasted unexplainably like chocolate. I told him so when we broke apart and he just laughed and kissed me again.~

It hadn’t gone much farther than that last night. We didn’t actually discuss what we were after that, but from then on our hanging out time was always accompanied by some private time…and every time, I noticed, Dom always tasted slightly of chocolate. Not that I minded. I really like chocolate, and a Dom that tastes like that is good for me.

I didn’t really space out too much after thaometometimes when I was home alone, but this didn’t happen very often as Dom or Elijah or Orlando always wanted to hang out and go places, and then there was work. And if I ever spaced out in front of Dom by accident, he knew the best ways to bring me around.

Anyways, after a while, Dom wanted to take our relationship a little farther…and truth be told, so did I.

I let us get as far as shirts off one night, and then I put a stop to it. Then I let us get a little farther a few nights later, before putting a stop to it. At first Dom understood. We were just starting out, and I think he was okay with taking it a little slow. Besides, when I saw he was getting a little exasperated after a while of no action at all, I helped him out a few times. As it turns out, I got pretty good at giving blow jobs, after a little practice...and I got plenty of practice. But after an ongoing habit of me stopping it right when he started going after my boxers, he got a little fed up…

~He licked a wet trail down my stomach, and lower. His tongue was hot but the air quickly cooled my slick skin, causing shivers to rise up my spine and the hair to rise on my stomach. My soft moan stopped itself as I felt his sprawled fingers begin to slip past the band of my boxers. Instantly my hands went down and clasped around his, pulling them out. Dom looked at me, his eyes coursing with irritation.

Guilt trickled down my spine, but I ignored it as I pushed him down and began coating him with wet kisses, starting from his knees and working up. His skin was tinted with salt and sweat and it set my mouth on fire as I continued. I got up to his thighs, and paused as I slowly pulled down his boxers. I went to resume, when suddenly he reached for my boxers. My hands quickly guarded them, prevented him from pulling them down.

“What is wrong with you?” Dom suddenly shouted. I fell back as he pulled up his shorts, and then jumped out of bed. Before I could say anything, he had his shirt on and was exiting the room.

I sat there, dumbstruck for a moment. Then I pulled my shirt on and looked down at my legs. The boxers were still perfectly in place…but still, some were still visible, so I pulled on a pair of loose pajama pants, before going out.

Dom was sitting on the kitchen counter, starring at his untied shoes. He already had his jeans and shoes on. Wow. He was upset.

“Dom?” I asked softly.

He glanced over at me, before looking away. “You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” His voice was calm and even.

“I’m sorry, Dom…it’s just that…” I trailed off. I couldn’t tell him, not yet. I took a breathe, and was silent for a moment. I walked slowly over to the table, picking up a large, lit candle that was sitting on the counter. I held it, starring at the flame for a moment.

“What is it? You always seem to be ready…and then we get close and all of a sudden you don’t want to do anything. It’s fucking frustrating.” He accused.

“…I’m sorry… hey, it’s not like I don’t do anything for you.” I said slowly, as I absentmindedly tipped the candle, and let the liquid wax pour into my open left palm. It burned. The pain increased as I let the wax sit there.

“Yeah…but I can’t do a damn thing. You never let me touch you. Never.” Dom’s voice began to lose its calm. Then he shook his head.

There was a silence that followed. The wax in my hand was now hard enough to peel away, so I closed my fist and let it crumble out. Without even thinking about it, I tipped the candle again and then watched as the hot, red wax poured into my already burned palm. I tilted my hand, so the wax poured down my wrist and arm in thin, red, burning hot rivuletike ike scorching blood dripping down my wrist.

“Why do you do that?” Dom demanded, starring at my hand in…I don’t know what it was. I recognized the disgust in his eyes though, so I stopped.

“I don’t know…” I said quietly. The wax kept its burning heat in, my palm scorched and stung like it was coated in hard, insulated flames. But I didn’t show it as I waited for the wax to dry, and then crumbled it off my hand and arm. As I went to tip the candle again, Dom seized it from my hands.

“You are so fucked up, Bill. Stop burning yourself with that.” He snapped at me. As he went to set it down, some wax spilled onto his fingers. “Oh aah. Shit! Shit, that’s hot!” he cried, as he hurriedly wiped the wax off.

I didn’t mean to smile…but I did. It wasn’t the fact that he was hurt…it was just I was angry at him for taking away the candle so it was like he got his punishment for that.

Dom glared at me. “Oh, so you just love seeing me in pain, don’t you?” he snapped. “That’s why you always fucking play me along…I mean, I could understand if you weren’t ready…but you always fucking act like you are!” he accused angrily.

I kept silent, and suddenly I wished I had that candle for something to do, so I just stared at the red lines on my arm from where the wax had run.

“And I just want to know if you want to be with me? I mean, is that it? Do you just not want to be with me? Because if that’s it, just tell me now.” He continued, and his voice was getting higher and quieter.

A lump began to form in my throat. “No! No, no, no. I swear that’s not it…I just…I don’t know.” I finished weakly.

He looked over at me angrily. Then he jumped off the counter and went to the door. I wanted to stop him, but I was too afraid to. He didn’t look at me as he walked out.

“Call me when you know.” he said, his voice cracking a little, before he shut the door behind him.

I collapsed right there on the floor, and held my knees against my chest. I almost wished for tears that just wouldn’t come. I tried to imagine them, and realized I didn’t even remember what they felt like anymore...~

That was two nights ago. I wish I could tell him…but I realize that I just can’t, as I stare down at my naked thighs. The thighs that are crisscrossed in pale, thin scars. Most of them are old. There are about nine or ten new ones. I hadn’t at at all during the period I had been with Dominic. I hadn’t needed to. But the scars from older cuts were still there, most still visible enough to attract his attention. The new ones are from the night Dom left. I just had to. It kept me from crying, at least.

I do want to be with him. It is all I want, anymore…except I’m afraid. Damn I hate fear. It has to be the worst feeling one can go through. Fear can control your life, and fear is the hardest emotion to control. Fear is what caused my hands to prevenm frm from seeing, time and time again. Fear is what stilled my tongue when I knew I should tell him.

I am afraid of seeing that familiar look of pity or worse that look of disgust on his face, if he were to see me. I’m afraid of him trying to get me to stop. I don’t need to stop. I have control and I have a choice over it. I can stop whenever I want to. I don’t need him forcing me to stop. I need the cut, it helps the pain. And if he would just understand, I would be with him and I wouldn’t even need to cut.

I cut less when he was my friend, I didn’t hurt myself at all when we were together. Now he’s gone and angry at me…and God does that hurt.

Shutting my eyes, I hear his voice in my head, over and over, screaming at me, ‘What is wrong with you?’ Those words…it is amazing how much those simple words hurt. I stare at my left thigh as I lay the sharp edge of the blade against my skin. I make sure to make the cut on my inner thigh. The skin is more sensitive there, but it’s unnoticeable under most circumstances. I press hard on the blade, and then slide it quickly down and then away. The release is almost immediate, and I shut my eyes as I feel the sharp pain heighten and then ebb. The words lose their edge. Looking back down, I lay the blade just under the now bleeding slit in my skin, and quickly make another cut. This time I watch the blood bead up quickly into glistening crimson drops along the cut, and then bleed over the edge and a drop slowly trickle down my leg. The blood fuels my lust for the cut. I lower the blade and drag it against my skin again, and then again. The next time I press it hard into my skin and pull swiftly, pushing it deep. The pain is strong and I can feel the words disappear. I look down at my leg and see the drops of blood spilling slowly down my leg. That last cut alone is dripping a lot of blood. Suddenly, I need to do it again. I feel I need more, and before I realize it I have made eleven new cuts, many as deep as the fifth was, and not all on my inner thigh so they are quite visible, and now my leg is coated with fresh red lines, and dark crimson rivulets. I can actually feel the pain being pulled out with the blood as I stare at my thigh. That is enough for right now.

Standing I grab a tissue and gently wipe up the lines of blood that have run down my leg, and then I reach over for the bottle I had placed nearby. I pour a good amount of rubbing alcohol onto the now crimson splashed tissue, and then shut my eyes as I press it to the cuts. The sting is deep antualtually hurts worse than the actual cuts, but I enjoy it in the same way and I can’t have anything get infected. I place a few bandages over the open slits, which are deeper than I usually make them and are bleeding more than I expected. I pull up my boxers, making sure that I had made the cuts high enough for them to be completely covered, before pulling on my baggy jeans. I flush the evidence down the toilet and clean my razor with the alcohol and return it back to its place in my dresser drawer. And life is back to normal, and I feel better…guilty, but guilt is better than pain.

I know that I may have to tell Dom sometime, if he ever forgives me that is. There is no avoiding it, if I want us to be together, eventually he has to know the truth. I’m just not ready yet. I guess I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready…which means I guess I’m not sure if there will ever be a Dom and me. It’s just because Dom doesn’t understand…and part of me hopes he never does.

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That is all for now. If you liked it, tell me so. If you didn’t, tell me so and why. If you want more, let me know. until I know, it stays as a One-shot bc I am okay with it ending this way. Anyways, I gotta go. Later. Lillia would say bye…but shes a little tied up right now…