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Soft Scannings and Second Comings (BillyBean)

Title: Soft Sannings and Second Comings
Pairing: BillyBean, minor VigOrli and minor Monabean
Author: Phentalon
Word count: 3,108
Summary: Just two men and a night and four men and a morning.
Comment: Sorry about Dom. I do adore him! Honestly I do! x3
Feedback: Please, it makes this sad little fangurgling yaoi fan so damn happy =3

“Evening mate.”

“Evening Sean. Drink?”

“Please. Rocky Steiger.” Viggo grinned, wiping a few wet rings of past drinks off the bar before mixing Sean’s drink.

“I rue the day you realised my own recipes are on the house.” He said cheerfully, serving Sean an inch deep pale opaquely gold liquid in a shot glass. Sean knocked it back with a hiss.

“And I rue the day you started doing that, because it means this stingy git has to drink these crappy concoctions you cook up.” He winked and Viggo flicked a bar rag at him.

“Watch the smart mouth, I can always revoke that rule.”

Sean backtracked. “You know I love them really, oh Great God of Free Drinks.”

“Yeah yeah.” He snorted.


Billy watched the busy club uncertainly from across the street. He was sheltering from the half-hearted, typical London drizzle in the stage door of the Gielgud theatre which an hour ago would have been buzzing with fangirls waiting rabidly to see a recently-naked Daniel Radcliffe up close. He didn’t see the attraction himself. The club opposite had a friendly, neutral ambience to it, unlike the ecstasy-fuelled pit of strobe and ultraviolet his friends had dragged him to last weekend. He’d known he’d fucking hate it, but in fact he’d really fucking hated. This looked a lot less like a headache followed by a hangover. Maybe just the hangover. Billy grinned to himself and crossed the cobbled ally.


“Oop, check out the new arrival.” Viggo nodded at the door, redundantly cleaning fresh glasses as an excuse to keep chatting to Sean. ‘New arrival’ meant not someone coming in, but someone who had blatantly never graced the place before. You could always spot them. This new arrival was small, slight, and pale, but with eyes that shone out of the slim face with a natural look of an intense interest in the world. Viggo took one look at Sean and saw he was gone for the night. Somewhere between amusement and exasperation (they had both gotten very drunk one night and passes were made, but, well, it never really took hold…) he left him to it.

Green Eyes caught Sean looking and twitched the corner of his mouth in a very nervous excuse for a smile, the kind of smile where the wearer isn’t sure if you are looking at them, and sure enough he flicked a glance over his shoulder. Cute, thought Sean, reading low self esteem right off the bat, and returned the smile with rather more bravado.

He came over, and Sean could tell he was being strategic in his place at the bar; not far enough away that a group could settle between then, but not near enough that Sean had to start conversation if he didn’t want to. And Sean wryly assumed that honour was going to be his.

“If you don’t mind my saying so,” he leant over a little “You don’t look like you come in here often?” The man smiled nervously, not sure what to say to this. Oh dear, thought Sean.

“No offence.” He tried again. “But you can kind of tell. Can I make it easier by buying you a drink, no questions asked?” He got a more earnest smile now. A person’s smile says a lot and this was one of relief. But eyes say more and these sparkled with energy and humour, repressed beneath embarrassment and unsure surroundings.

“Sure. And you’re right; I’ve no been here before. Usually leave it to chance, if you catch my drift.” Hm, Scottish. Sean always had liked Scotland.

“I used to do that, and found chance wasn’t one for getting off its arse and helping. So I took it in me own hands.” He smiled once again, something Sean found his mouth was made to do, with the thin, articulated lips and perfect teeth… stop staring at him Sean.

“Like a vigilante for your love life eh?” Remarked the man, not noticing the renegade gaze. Sean chuckled; Smiley Green Eyes had a sense of humour. But maybe he shouldn’t call him that.

“By the way, what’s your poison and your name?”

“Billy, and Guinness. But not in that order.” He corrected himself with brief wrong-footedness. Sean shot him a mild fond look and hailed Viggo.

“A Billy for Guinness. Wait, not in that order. And a Jagermeister for Sean.” Billy knew Sean wasn’t being unkind, and caught the laughter dancing in his hazel eyes at the little joke. They could verbally backhand chance all they liked but to fall in the door and into the company of this very good natured and even more attractive man… well, there was something to be said for that.

He took a long draught of the cold Guinness that the rugged barman placed in front of him, and they engaged in the banter that already bounced around them. It didn’t surprise him that Sean was a therapist, as he had a feeling of having his thoughts, and face gently scanned much of the time. He told him this and Sean blushed very faintly.

“Do I? Sorry, I don’t mean to, it must be getting ingrained in me, doing it all day.”

“I don’t mind.” Billy said quietly into his pint glass. Soft scanning and nervous smiles aside, the look that passed between them just then was one of pure fire, a look that said one would taking the other home and doing debauched things to them.

Sean prided himself on not being completely lustful, he had to have a vague connection with someone to bed them (a personality connection, not that cheesy kind from Meg Ryan movies). But he was struggling to hold onto his ethos of personality first. Not that Billy’s wasn’t proving to be first rate, but those elfin features, lightning eyes, the very subtle curve of well defined muscles beneath his shirt, his long neck that Sean would love nothing more then to sink his lips to…


A few hours later they were sitting closer without realising, the way attracted and drinking people do, and making the small gestures to occasionally remind the other of their interest: Such as Sean making a small dig at Billy and he would pull on the collar of his black jacket in mock outrage, which brought their heads close for a second. And so it went on. Then Sean would hold the pendant round Billy’s neck and lean in to look at it, asking what it was whilst Billy tried to ignore the fingers brushing his throat.

But this appeared to be one little move too many for both of them, as Sean released the stone on the leather thong, looked up, and they were kissing. No hesitation, no creep closer batted back and forth, just a sudden and simultaneous movement.
Sean put his hand to the nape of Billy’s neck, fingers gently insinuated into the lowest threads of hair, the way that drove him crazy but what no one before had ever done quite right.
Billy moved a hand to Sean’s leg, just where it began to mould into hip, and revelled in the sound of Sean inhaling sharply through his nose as he did so. He gleaned great satisfactions from doing the little things just right.
It was a rather idyllic conglomeration of lip bites, tongues battling lazily for dominance, and the pulling back for soft kisses with closed lips before deepening again, something Billy found entirely underrated.

Sean’s problem was that once he got going with someone who really pushed his buttons, he didn’t want to stop, so it took great effort not to start publicly molesting Billy, and to break away and suggest they go.

Billy made a very lax attempt to conceal his enthusiasm, Sean threw down some note son the bar, and they left. Sean considered a cab just the right side of not public, and so let a fraction of the molestation go unchecked, much to the enjoyment of Billy and disgust of their cab driver, whom Sean left a very large tip when they reached his block of flats.

It was one of those classic, but unusual moments of falling in the door without turning on any lights, the immediate pulling of clothes and mingling of bodies in a desperation you can’t fake.

Only when he had Billy shirtless against the wall did he slow his pace, kissing down the neck he had so admired earlier, pausing to bring his own top up and off. Then he fumbled the belt, buckle and button, fingers moving and bumping over Billy’s crotch in unbearable teasing touches, making him thrust slightly against the hands, his own gripping the back of Sean’s neck.

With a grateful catch of his breath, Billy’s cock was released from the heat of his boxers, only to find itself in the wanton heat of Sean’s fist. But this was short lived, as Sean then dropped to his knees. Billy pulled and threaded slightly at the short blonde hair, in panting anticipation of what was to come. He had not long to wait, as Sean took him almost to the hilt into his mouth, the wet burn so good it was painful, Billy’s mouth slack with pleasure, sweat shining slightly on his chest.

“Ugh… Jesus… Sean…fuck!” He panted, only able to suck in enough air for one word at a time as he glanced down to see Sean draw his lips up and down the length of his cock, tongue swirling the head, drawing Billy closer and closer with every passing second.

Hands now flat again the wall, fisting and flexing with nearing ecstasy, Billy cried out as Sean gripped his slim hips and expertly drew the orgasm out from deep inside Billy, until he spilled and was swallowed and the sucking motion drawing a second wave from him, and he shouted louder, long and wordless as he was emptied.

Sean let him go and he slid to the floor before him, wet chest heaving.

“Jesus… that was… that was… oh fuck!” Sean said nothing, but grinned with one side of his mouth, making to move beside Billy.

He decided it was his turn to take charge, and as Sean was momentarily crouched on the balls of his feet he pushed him so he fell on his back, and Billy straddled him. The dirty smile on Sean’s small lips told Billy he far from minded his charge being taken away.

Billy slowly did away with the belt and slide the jeans down, Sean’s large erection springing from the waistband of his boxers. Billy surveyed it predatorily, extricating a condom from the back pocket of the jeans that were still tangled by his ankles.

He tore open the condom packet with sharp teeth (a sight that sent a shudder of desire through Sean’s stomach and into his groin) and began rolling it over Sean’s inflamed cock. He thrust up into the slick, cool rubber and was barely aware of Billy shifting, until his hand was hard around his cock and he looked down his torso to see Billy guiding the head of his rubber-clad erection to his entrance, no lube apparently necessary.

Both let out shallow gasps as the head slid inside, and Sean clamped his hands to Billy’s thighs, moving him up and down on the head, gradually deepening. Billy threw back his head and let Sean do the fucking, the full, deep heat spreading as Sean neared that spot inside him. The pace increased and pushed Billy to his limit, teeth gritted for a moment as he strained to take it, but then Sean was buried to the hilt inside him and hitting that sweet spot again and again, and he resumed his ecstatic cries, rising and falling the thrusts, Sean grunting and cursing as his cock throbbed and twitched inside him.

Billy’s fingernails dug into his sides as he spread his legs wider and forced himself further over Sean, who drove himself one last time inside, arse high off the floor, and came shouting Billy’s name and swearing. Both collapsed, Billy spread-eagled on Sean, who’s cock was now semi-limp and satisfied inside him, and both content to keep it that way.

But Sean was conscious of Billy who was again hard against his stomach, and he languidly fisted Billy into a gentle climax, pressed close against Sean, holding onto each other.

Sean kicked the remnants of his jeans away, and there they fell asleep, against and inside each other on the thick rug, sticky and exhausted and so satisfied.

~*~

Sean woke first, to the doorbell buzzing. His first impulse, as his brain shed sleep entirely and became aware of the warm Billy that slept around him, was to ignore it, but it kept on going. Then it stirred Billy, who blinked and looked up at Sean.

“Mornin’.” He grinned sleepily and kissed Sean. Their snog was interrupted by the jarring bell again.

“Oh fuck off.” Grunted Sean, but whoever they were, they were certainly not fucking off, so Billy and Sean admitted defeat and untangled grudgingly. Billy slipped into his boxers and asked where the kitchen was so he could make coffee, and Sean directed him with a brief squeeze of a very squeezable arse.

Pulling his jeans on he picked up the receiver of the intercom downstairs.

“It’s Dom.” And suddenly Sean’s very agreeable morning fell away under his feet.

~*~

“The fuck do you want?” Asked Sean, arriving on the step in a sweater, commando in last night’s jeans, and bare feet. Dom stood on the pavement, looking hurt.

“Christ Sean, I thought your pride would have repaired a little bit.”

“This is fuck all to do with pride this is to do with-” Maybe leave Billy out of this for now. “Me not wanting to see you.” He invented, no less truly.

“Can’t I come up, so we can talk?”

“We can talk here. I know what you’ll do if you come up.” Dom laughed.

“It’s ten am Sean, even my libido doesn’t get up that early.” Sean snorted cynically. “But really, I wanted to talk properly. I want us to try again, please.” Sean mentally jumped.

“Scuse me?”

“I want to get back your trust. You know what I’m like Sean; happy as long as someone’s sticking his cock in me. This is a big deal for me. I miss you.”

“You shoulda missed me before you had my best friend stick his cock in you.” He glared. He wasn’t going to give Dom one second of doubt, Billy or no Billy. And there was defiantly Billy. Dom was right about one thing; he did know what he was like. And friendship would never work as long as Dom wanted him. Dom had wanted David one night, and it had taken him less then two hours to get Sean’s friend of eighteen years and come-out partner into bed. Imagine how long it would take him to go after love. Dom wasn’t bad, quite the contrary, he didn’t do these things with malicious intent; he was just very lost and very addicted to sex. And God knows Sean had tried, in both of those departments and in every department there was, but David was the last straw. Sean had thrown in the towel and walked out of his life. This was four months ago, and not a peep, until now.

“Please, Seanie.” Dom came up a step and put is hands on Sean’s chest. “Let me come up, let’s talk, I’ll make you one of my fry-ups you loved so much, and we’ll talk?” For one moment, just one, it had just been another of Dom’s little indiscretions, and they would go upstairs and have mind-blowing make up sex on the kitchen table…

Then he thought of Billy; Pretty, half-naked Billy puttering around that same kitchen trying to find mugs and make the temperamental tap work. And he knew then that Dom was far, far too late. Twelve hours ago he would have given him a talk, at least. Not now. Now Dom would know what it was like to lose, the way he had.

“Sorry Dom.” The words contained no proof of remorse whatsoever. “You’re too late…”

“No, Seanie, don’t say that. I was giving you time to blow off steam is all. You know how pissed off you get. But I’m here now-” Sean laughed mirthlessly.

“So, you just assume I sat around and pined for you, no one else so much as throwing an appraising look my way in Camden market, huh?” Dom stared for a second.

“Of course not, I know you could get any… wait, there isn’t someone…?” Then he rushed past Sean, through the door he had been holding ajar with one foot, and up the stairs two at a time.

“Dom! Don’t you fucking dare!” Sean took off after him. But his flat door was on the latch and Dom had banged through it before Sean could catch up.

When he skidded into the flat Dom was staring at Billy, both in raw, tense silence, Billy with the kettle in his hand.

“Dom.” Sean commanded. “Get out, now.” Dom surveyed the confused Billy with utter contempt, smirked ‘slut’ at him, and turned on his heel and left.

Sean locked the door and returned, beyond mortified. “Jesus Christ, Billy I’m so sorry, he just showed up and came up before I could stop hi-”

“It’s ok.” Billy smiled. “We’ve all got one.”

“One what?”

“A fucking crazy ex. But you really went the whole hog in scoring up that one didn’t you, blimey!” And Sean had to laugh. Then they sat and had their coffee, discussing past love lives, and life in general.


At the same time as Dom making a spectacle of himself, Viggo was quietly redressing and sneaking out of a flat in Hounslow, leaving a lovely youth named Orlando behind. Viggo felt he wanted nothing more then to stay until he woke and get to know him, but the shame he felt drove him from the flat and back across London to his own. Shame in the form of taking this charismatic and stimulating boy entirely for granted. Because all he had really wanted last night was to find someone he could hook up with, go home with, and pretend was Sean while they had a marathon of sex. It was so pathetic it made him physically sick.


So while night fell on the city and two men in it pined for Sean, he made love to Billy in his bed for the first of what would be uncountable times.


Fin.
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