A Little Big
a fic in three parts
Billy Boyd/Michael Rosenbaum, R


Billy chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip as his eyes scanned the crowd. Christ, is there anyone here besides people I know and the goddamn squealing fans who somehow snuck in? He took a few steps toward the bar, hoping that a drink would help conjure up some new faces. Or at least make a few old ones look more appealing. He smirked slightly, and continued walking, leaning on the counter of the bar when he reached it.

But before he could say anything, someone caught his eye. Or rather, something - a shockingly bald head. Turning his head slightly, Billy furrowed his brow, searching his brain for any recognition. The man laughed, probably at something the young woman beside him had said, then began to make his way toward the bar, in Billy's direction.

Billy breathed in through clenched teeth, hissing slightly. My god, that is an attractive man. And suddenly, he knew where he'd seen him before, and blushed slightly. He recognized him from his bored nights of channel-flipping, with nothing better to do than watch shitty American teen dramas. Not that he'd admit to it, of course - and not that he'd admit to watching the adventures of a young Lex Luthor a bit too closely to the screen, his lips parted a bit too widely, his breath coming a bit too quickly.

Suddenly, Billy had the ridiculous thought that maybe, just maybe, he could make his fantasies come true.

Smoothing down his jacket and picking an invisible hair off of his kilt, he casually sidled up to the man - did he even know his real name? - and cleared his throat softly. The man looked down at him, eyebrows raised slightly. Billy looked at him, putting on his best coy smile. "You know--" he laughed lightly. "Aren't you a little big for...Smallville?" He emphasized the first syllable, catching the taller man's eyes.

The man looked at Billy for a moment, then threw his head back and let out a loud laugh. Billy closed his eyes and put his fingers on his temples. Jesus, what the hell...

The man stopped laughing, then looked back at Billy, amusement in his eyes. "You know, that has got to be the shittiest line I have heard in my life." Billy felt his heart sink a bit, and smiled weakly.

But abruptly, the man grew serious, and lowered his head to Billy's level, bringing his mouth to his ear. "But I'll still fuck you."

His lips brushed against Billy's earlobe, and before Billy could fully register his words he had walked off.

"Hey, Boyd--" Billy shrugged Dom's hand off of his shoulder and followed the man out of the room.


---


Michael ran a hand down Billy's back, watching his muscles ripple gently and grow tense in places. He eyed the beads of sweat which had formed along the nape of Billy's neck, and with one quick motion licked them off.

He felt Billy shift under him, letting out a low moan.

Michael smiled a little, and trailed his hand along the line between Billy's shoulderblades, pushing down along the way. He adjusted his position slightly, then raised his face to the ceiling, eyes closed for a moment as he felt a wave of pleasure wash over him. But he remained composed, and opened his eyes again, looking back down at Billy.

Billy moved again, bucking up from the bed a little. "Ohhh god..."

Michael smiled enigmatically again, then threaded his fingers through Billy's hair, massaging his scalp as they made their way through. And suddenly, he gripped the sandy locks and pulled Billy up toward him. He brought his face oh-so-close to Billy's, hearing his breath come quicker.

"Hold still, Billy. Don't...move."

Michael let go, and Billy's head fell against the pillow. Michael saw the fabric of the pillow pull and bunch a little, and heard a quiet squeaking of cotton. Good - he was biting the pillow. Michael put a hand on each of Billy's shoulders, trying to keep them from slipping on the sweat. He took a deep breath, preparing.

"Shhhhh."


---


Billy raised his head slowly and opened his eyes. He watched Michael's back, muscles moving slightly as his arms moved, hands rubbing against each other.

Michael turned around, and Billy saw the light catch and glint on the slick wetness of his right hand and forearm. He thought he could see each individual hair shining, completely saturated.

Michael caught Billy's gaze and their eyes locked. Billy expelled all of the air in his chest, shuddering slightly, then silently nodded.

Michael breathed in deeply, then bent down.

"Hey Bill!" Billy looked up suddenly, and smiled, seeing Elijah walking toward him, a coffee cup in each hand. He playfully nudged Billy's shoulder with his hip as he passed, then sat down across from him at the small table.

Billy reached for his cup, automatically blowing on the steaming surface of the coffee. But when he raised his eyes, he saw Elijah looking at him; purposefully, expectantly.

"Well?" Elijah grinned, raising an eyebrow. "I have seen you since...you know, since you two got together." He looked around quickly, then scooted closer to the table, bringing his head nearer to Billy's. "So how are things? How is he?" He raised both eyebrows this time, waiting.

For some strange, stupid reason, Billy found himself thinking back to grade school biology classes. How was this even fucking possible? Was the human body meant to do this? Women, sure, the whole childbirth thing, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be popping out babies any time soon. He cycled through a few terms like tolerance, pain thresholds, and oh god let's just linger for a while on the "pain" part of that.

Billy's eyes flew open. His entire abdomen was on fire, and he envisioned bright orange flames licking at - no, devouring - his internal organs, his vital organs. Muscles he didn't know he had screamed, parts of his body he thought immovable attempted to stretch. He squeezed his eyes shut again, and a small cry left his lips.

"Open your eyes, Billy. Look at me. Fucking look at me, dammit. Breathe Billy, fucking god Billy breathe, let it out, breathebreathebreathe--"

Fucking god Billy breathe let it out breathebreathebreathe, his mind echoed, the words alternately floating listlessly and hammering at his temples. He grabbed at the sheets, then drew in a huge, ragged breath. "Oh shit oh my god--"

"Billy?"

With a start, Billy realized that he had been gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles had turned white. He quickly let go, and shifted slightly in his seat.

Looking up, he smiled.

"He's good."




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