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Wound Tighter Than A Watch Spring	By : Sal Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > General > Lord of the Ring Stars Views: 1342 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Wound Tighter Than A Watch Spring
- 2-And Now The Pressure's On
- 1
- 2
Title: Wound Tighter Than A Watch Spring

Author: www.livejournal.com/users/lord_alexander

Pairing: Billy/Dom which always makes me thof gof goats.

Rating: R (possibly less, possibly more)

Summary: Dom is stressed, not because he's nervous or anything. A Mancunian? Being nervous? On Oscar night? It would never do. However he is wound up not by the glitz and the glamour, even by the splitting of the Fellowship, but because Billy's not talking to him. Seriously not good.

Disclaimer: Only mine if I get the temerity to kidnap them. Bugger.

Feedback: See me chase it like a dope-smoking penguin living in a tank of sardines.

Author's Notes: This might be a one shot, it might not depending on how this goes. Ultimately I'm shite at multi-chapter but it might be squeezed out of me, lemon-like. But not like a lemon. No, there'll be a plot somewhere, I expect. The title is a blast from the past, a song called Marble Joh Johnson by the Bluetones. Shows how old I am, anyway. Okay, stopping jabbering on now.
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Nervousness almost makes your head inflate doesn't it, that light-feeling that is never noticed until you stand then find yourself on a heap on the floor like a wanker. Heap on the floor, fine, specially down the local after a few bevvies with the lads, perfectly fine, nothing to worry about at all. Then there is heap on the floor being broadcast to something like one-sixth of the world's population and then the press going absolutely bollock-spanking insane the next day. Is it drink? Is it illness? Has the publicity been too much? And the bastards would never ever realise the proper reason is standing a hobbit away, hiding behind Sean, smiling that pretty-lipped tight-mouthedle; le; if you look at the net as Elijah is wont to that smile makes the more discerning fangirl wet her frilly little knickers. Or my frilly knickers if I wore them. Of course, I wear kecks, I just don't wear knickers. Well, unless someone dares me to and then I would wear them.

Jesus, man, get a grip on yourself, you're English for God's sake. Think stiff upper lips and crumpets, tea and the Queen. Yeah, stay with the Queen. Queen naked, much better, thinking of her naked is putting everything in its place. Prince Phillip naked as well, we can cope with that, Prince Phillip shagging the Queen with added corgis. Prince Phillip...Duke of Edinburgh...Scotland...

FUCK!

Okay, you've got to stop it right now. You're tense. Head, you feel tense, muscles are certainly tense. The painted on patented Dom grin is starting to crease, one of those evil twitch things that always start up when you grin too long. Right, gentlemen, let's move out. Ein, zwei, ein, zwei...why are you not moving? Why are you still posing for the cameras? Come on, come on, otherwise there will be some sort of explosion and that'll be really really messy. And now, fucking ice my cake and call me Nancy, he's looking at me. Or if I was writing this he's looking at me. Or...bugger it, stop italicising words in your head, you ponce.

Come on, you're a Mancunian, you're not going to faint from lack of...breath, there, good Dom, clever Dom, you can have a drink later for remembering to breathe before you passed out into that heap on the carpet. Smile, shiny, good, that's it, the camera loves you, work it baby, work it a little bit, meet in the middle and go just a little bit...this isn't the time to start singing pop songs by the losers in Pop Stars. Right. No Liberty X for you, my lad. God, couldn't half do with a bevvy right now, nice pint'd go down a treat.

Oh! Look! He's not...he...but...why? Why aren't you going to sit next to me? Fug heg hell, why are you hiding over there? Look, you were fine on the Jonathan Ross segment, and now you've gone weird and s jus just acting normal, for fuck's sake! Like we always do, yeah? You and me against the world, and sod what people are thinking, right? Billy? Billy, pet, shit, never call him pet to his face otherwise you'll really piss him off. Billy? Look at me you fucker. Oh, no, you're just going to watch Billy Cal, al, aren't you, you absolute little cunt of a hobbit.

Billy Crystal's singing Frodo and Sam on a mystical planet, then Sméagol pops out like the right boob of Janet. Getting aroused with each time Billy sings... Why won't it go away? Jesus Christ, enough cold showers, enough wanking over pictures of women, well, mostly pictures of women and not a frigging thing helps because when little Dom spies Billy, up he pops like a spring loaded missile.

Not thinking of Billy, not thinking of his philtrum and the way it makes his lips all cupid bow and Jesus they'd be fantastic to just trace. Just rhe phe pad of my thumb over them and see what they feel like. Bet they feel like silk and this is not fucking fair.

Right, pissed off with Billy, no thoughts about him. He's still ignoring me, though, it's a wonder Sean's not frozen yet with the frostiness coming from the other side of him. Maybe fat hobbits have better body heat? If they were all stuck in the Arctic then Sam'd be the one who'd survive longest but then everyone would be wanting to eat him as well. I'd eat Billy. No. Stop. Stupid thought processes going from hate to want to worship to hate. Stop it otherwise I'll just end up going nuts in front of a billion people.

Get this the fuck over with, right? And now time's slowed down to porridge and Bi...no, porridge doesn't have to be Scottish, caught you there, you bastard. Then let's say treacle then, yeah. Time is now treacle and is flowing so bloody slowly that it feels like everyone else is talking at quarter-speed. Maybe it is a proper scientific phenomenon, that when time knows you want it to be fast it gets bolshy and slows right down, and then does the same when you want it to be nice and slow. Maybe Time is an anthropomorphic actuality as opposed to an abstract that doesn't actually exist. If you trapped her? yes her, in a glass clock maybe the world would cease to exist? Maybe to much Terry Pratchett eats your brain?

Eating. Billy...Billy eating...sucking...I'm damned to bloody well fancy the only bloke in this entire room who isn't speaking to me. Everyone else would come up and say hi! So, you're a hobbit, great role, liked your movie then move on to the next bloke, probably Lij and then try and shag him because hell, it's Lij and he's cute. Not like Billy-cute, because that's cuter than Lij-cute any day, but in a kind of blue-eyed twinkish way.

Whereas Billy's just perfect. Apart when he doesn't fucking well speak to me, or he gets sugar from those bloody doughnuts on me, or when he runs out of those Tunnocks Wafer things. Yeah, and when he's just grumpy. But that's sort of cute when he's grumpy, like if you kiss him he'd be non-miserable though he pouts so prettily when he is miserable and I start getting wound up and now I'm tapping my foot and there's a camera so smile and...

Going to be a long long night.
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Wound Tighter Than A Watch Spring