writing_thuri: (Merman)
[personal profile] writing_thuri
Author: [livejournal.com profile] thuri
Author's Email: Thuri at ThuriWeaver dot com
Website: http://www.thuriweaver.com/
Pairing(s): Dom/Billy
Rating: Series is G -- NC-17.
Summary: La la la
Disclaimer: Yeah. This is sooooo not true.
Warning: AU
Authors Note: Yet another alternative universe. You're all gonna kill me, just so you know.

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven) (Part Eight) (Part Nine) (Part Ten) (Part Eleven) (Part Twelve) (Part Thirteen) (Part Fourteen) (Part Fifteen) (Part Sixteen) (Part Seventeen) (Part Eighteen) (Part Nineteen)



It was loud, busy, and big. Those were Billy’s first confused impression of Los Angeles, as he stepped off the plane into an airport full of rushing people. His skin itched, and he longed with all his being to be back on his island with Dom, just off the coast, making love under the waves. To be cool, quiet, and safe.

But it wasn’t to be, yet, as Dom squeezed his hand and gently tugged him along, heading down one long hallway after another, through crowds of people who even smelled miserable. Why had he agreed to this? Why had he thought following Dom across the world was a good idea? What had he been thinking? Billy shuddered, shifting his bag on his shoulder, and nearly tripping, as feet he’d now worn for too long stumbled yet again.

“Almost there, Bills,” Dom murmured, as they rode a moving staircase down. Billy wasn’t sure what it was called. “We’ll just get our bags, and Lij is meeting us here.”

“What?” Billy’s head shot up at that.

“Elijah’s giving us a ride,” Dom repeated, yawning. “I’m knackered, Bills. Couldn’t drive us back myself.”

“Oh…All right.” Shit. And fuck, and bollocks, and every other colorful phrase he’d learned from Dom. He had to deal with one of Dom’s friends, some celebrity type, with no more warning than a few minutes? Billy shuddered again, thinking he really hadn’t signed on for all of this. He suddenly understood exactly how all those caught fish he’d seen had felt, flopping and gasping, completely out of their element. Mers belonged in the sea, and he was no better than a fish out of water, now. “That’ll be nice,” he managed, wondering if they’d make it to Dom’s place before he clawed his skin off.


Elijah paced back and forth, just outside the baggage claim, chain-smoking clove cigarettes. Fuck. Dom would be there, soon, with that…person he’d picked up in Scotland. What’d he think he was doing, anyway? He was supposed to go off to the islands, realize what he’d always wanted was right under his nose, and come running back to LA and Elijah’s arms. Instead…he’d picked up some native who probably had an accent so thick no one would understand him. And might be wearing a kilt. And probably only ate haggis. And fucked sheep.

Lij wallowed in the stereotypes, knowing well enough they wouldn’t be true. Not if the man had attracted Dom’s attention, and held it. But it wasn’t fucking fair! He’d put in his time, dealt with every one of Dom’s disastrous relationships, and dammit, he’d earned his chance! It wasn’t fair some nobody was fucking it up!

It was then he turned, and saw them coming. And admitted, if grudgingly and only to himself, that at least the nobody was hot. Too old though. Definitely.

He sighed, and dropped his cigarette to the ground, grinding it to powder beneath his foot. Hell. He wasn’t an actor for nothing. With a smile even Dom wouldn’t know was false, he opened the door and headed in to meet his rival.


Billy’s fears were calmed a bit, when Dom and Elijah ended up talking the whole ride, and all he had to do was say hello, and then goodbye again. The lad looked disappointed, when Dom said they were just planning to turn in, and maybe they’d all have dinner together, but went off on his own.

And it was approximately twenty seconds after he left that Billy was naked in the bathtub finally in his proper form.


Orli frowned, swimming back and forth across the grotto. “Liv, he’s insane, right?”

Liv shrugged, brushing her hair with a silver comb. “He’s in love. There’s no accounting for that, after all.”

“But with a split-tail? Honestly, Liv, there’s something sick about that…”

With a sudden roar of outraged mer-song, Billy’s grandfather entered the grotto. “A split-tail! Tell me everything!”


Dom’s meeting with the producers went well, and—with quite a bit of persuasion, Billy managed to convince him to take the show. “We’ll figure something out, aye? I’ll no leave you, Dommie, not if there’s a thing we can do about it. We can visit often enough, if nothing else.”

And so Dom had done it. Decided to go for the show, signed the contracts, and arranged to spend all the time until shooting in Scotland.

Elijah never warmed up to him, but Billy decided he could deal with that. He’d rather Dom’s friends treated him with indifference than outright hatred. He did have to wonder if Dom knew how the lad felt about him, but decided it wasn’t his place to say so. Elijah seemed likely to let it go, at least, willing to keep the peace and even—grudgingly—seeming glad that Dom was so happy.

So the week seemed to pass quickly, though Billy couldn’t help but chafe under the feelings and worries of the millions of people surrounding him. But, finally, they were boarding a plane home. Just a long, dry flight back, and then home.


They ran down to the ocean the moment they arrived back, shedding their clothes and heading for the water. Kissing, stumbling, not quite making it, they fell to the sand, bodies intertwined, lips melding together. Dom’s lips curved up against Billy’s mouth as the mer’s hand found his cock, stroking hard and fast even as his lips fastened to Dom’s throat.

“So good, Bills…”

It was then that flash of light, and a crack as of thunder split the air, and Billy started, pulled back, and froze.

His grandfather stood—stood—with his feet in the waves, his power controlling a mer’s need to change at the touch of salt water. “William. It is time to come home.”
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