Catching Myself A Billy

Elijah/Billy

Elijah’s pov

Billy isn’t really gay. Did you know that? No, I guess you didn’t because at times he can do a really good impression of a gay bloke what with the giggle and all, but he isn’t really. Then again not many people are gay, I mean not completely gay. Most are somewhere on that continuum from completely straight at one end to raving gay at the other. I’ll grant you Sir Ian is pretty close to one extreme, bet you can’t guess which , but most of us are somewhere along the line.

I’m towards the gay end. How can I put it? I could do a woman if I was desperate but I’d have to be desperate and I wouldn’t enjoy it as much as I should. I wasn’t always like that, no sir. I started off only liking girlies, god that seems a long time ago, and it lasted for a good few years. Then I discovered the wonderful world of men and their harder bodies and more aggressive sex. For that, Mr Orlando Bloom, I will always love you. The things that man can do with his tongue, such a god given talent it’s a shame more people don’t know about it.

Now this is one of the wonders of sex between two men. First you don’t have to pretend you love someone or even that you like them. Actually I do love and like Orli, but that’s not the point. The point is you don’t have to. Not only is it acceptable to merely be in it for the sex (which if you’re reading this was spectacular Orli) but it’s almost expected. Yes, I know you do get some girls like that but everyone thinks they’re tramps. Double standards are a terrible thing but even I kinda feel it.

I’ve wandered right off the point now, bad Elijah, I was meant to be telling you about the wonders of gay sex. Back to the plot. First we had the fact it’s all right to only want the sex. Now we’re onto the second great thing. I guess it has to be that you can do, and more importantly ask for, things that no way you could do with a girl. Unless she was very experienced, or a right tart, or stoned, or your mom’s youngest cousin - but that’s a completely different story. The point is girls aren’t usually willing to do some of the really messy / aggressive / crude stuff, but men are.

I don’t particularly like anything too way out there, I’m not into pain or being tied up (Did you hear that Orli? I’m not into being tied up. But then I did quite like tying you up.) But I’m wandering off the point again. I do rather like messy, and girls generally - I’m not counting you all in herre - don’t.

So, thanks to Orli I discovered the joys of sex with men and I’ve never looked back. Well that’s a lie really; at first I’d pretty much shag anyone that offered. But I put that down to only just turning nineteen. You’ll shag a lamppost if it looks at you the right way and your mom’s not there at that age, trust me on this one. I had a ball (oh bad choice of words!) shagging around for a while; women / men / goats, you name it, I shagged it. But after a while I found I was tending to do more men than anything else, no conscious decision, I just sort of went that way.

I make myself sound like a right tart, don’t I? Well, I suppose I was. Only, not really. There weren’t that many people, just not one at a time like you’re supposed to. Don’t get all excited and read more into that than I meant! I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. I don’t do threesomes or anything like that. Expect for that one time in the back of the van going somewhere. There was only me and Orli involved, but okay a lot of people could see, and it was his fault. He started it and I was still drunk from the night before and … Why does nobody believe me? I mean, no one had to watch, Viggo could always have thrown his coat over us a lot earlier than he did but no, he still tuts at me about it. Me! Why me? He, of all people, should know what a bad influence Orli is, the whole world knows about them two on the set at three in the morning. I didn’t even think that was physically possible until Orli demonstrated it afterwards. Home schooling, it leads to a sheltered outlook, what can I tell you? And everyone thinks I’m flexible.

What I meant was I didn’t have one partner, broke up with them and then joined up with someone else; serial monogamy I think it’s called. I’d just shag whenever I got the chance, same few people, and only one at a time, but one in the evening, some one else next day … Believe me, you get the idea.

I’ve wandered right off the point now. Billy gets really cross with me sometimes when I do this. Most of the time he just smiles at me, all affectionate, but just occasionally, like when he’s trying to tell me something important that I actually have to remember, he’ll get cross. Well, cross for Billy, which isn’t really very cross at all. Not like Beanie can get cross, now that is mega cross, all red faced and shouty and … I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of it.

This time I really am going to get back to the point.

I was telling you about the continuum, no not the space / time continuum - shut up whichever smart ass at the back said that - I mean the gay / straight continuum. Ian is at one end, Sean Astin is most definitely, definitely, definitely at the other and I’m nearer Ian’s end. Billy is probably half way between the middle and Sean’s end. Before he would have thought himself right up close to Sean. All right, not too close to Sean, being that straight must hurt, but close enough not to have tried gay sex before and close enough never really to have thought about it. But that was before. Before what? I hear you cry.

Before me.

Or more accurately, before I decided to catch me a Billy.

Now I’ve made myself sound like a really sick little bastard. First a slut and now a bastard and I’m not either really. Let me try and put it a bit better. That was before I fell so head-over-heels hopelessly in love after realising the I’d found the next best thing to sliced bread, that … Give it up Elijah. I’m never going to explain exactly what I mean or how I felt so I might as well just give you the plain facts.

Slowly, very slowly indeed, I fell in love with an odd little Scotsman who just took my breath away. Along with my heart. I think he’s perfect, not damned near perfect, but truly perfect. Even now, however many years down the line it is, I still get all panicky inside thinking ‘what if we never met? What if I never realised?’ Only we did and I did and that fact alone makes me believe in god. You can’t thank him if you don’t believe in him.

I fell in love and … this is where I can paint myself as something nasty and mean it. I fell in love and I did everything I could to get what I wanted. Makes me sound like a right manipulative sod, but I was. I wanted Billy and nothing - NOTHING in capital letters - was going to stop me getting what I wanted. All I can say in my defence is that my motives were honourable.

I loved Billy, pure, sweet hearted, good, clean, storybook loved him. Also, I honestly believed, and have been proved right, that we are good for each other, we belong together. We fit. Makes you want to throw up how sickly, lovey dovey I sound but it’s true, we do fit. And we’re happy, it just took me a bit of effort to catch my Billy. I got him in the end though. I’m not stupid; I’ve been around enough to know the score. In this business there are very few really nice people and an awful lot of odd balls who are only out for what they can get. I found me a good one and I was going to catch him and keep him.

Turned out to be a bloody sight harder than I thought it would be though. God, that man is virtually blind sometimes. I did everything, practically offered myself on a plate to him, but not only did he not take a bite - he didn’t even notice I was offering! Men, don’t they just drive you mad sometimes?

I admit it was a bit of a challenge, if you’ve been paying attention I did mention that back then he thought he was Mr Straight Man. Now I’m being childish; Billy has never been like that, he loved everyone, just not in the same way. I wanted him to love me, in every way, and only me. So I had to convince him to allow his gay side to … come to the surface? To wrap around us, allowing us to enjoy each other in a physical way? To swamp me, pushing down my throat and up my … Yes, yes I know, too much information, but I did say gay love is crude and I do like a bit of crude. And messy.

So there is Mr Giggly Scotsman, laughing and joking around with Dom about bosoms and there is me; playing every trick in the book. Never batted my eyelashes or licked my lips so much at anyone in my entire life, but nothing, zero, zilch, not a thing. Actually that’s not strictly true, most of the people working on that film were walking around with their tongues hanging out, wet for me. Never had so many offers of a shag, and from some of the most unlikely people as well. One of the dinner ladies had me pressed up against the wall behind the freezer cabinet, after I spent one particularly long lunch break working on Billy. Only just got out with all my tackle still intact. Unfortunate to say the least.

Clearly it was going to take more than normal to catch me a Billy and if I was going to survive with my virtue intact (Don’t any of you dare laugh!) I was going to have to be a little less obvious about it.

I thought about it for a few days - a few days in which I ran from everyone on the set, everyone that is except Billy - and came up with … precisely nothing. I’m not good at this seduction business, it’s not my fault, I’ve never had the need before. People just fell at my feet, or rather they fell at my huge eyes and alabaster skin, no accounting for taste, is there? But not Billy, oh no, not Billy. We went out drinking and clubbing, we chatted, mucked around, hugged, he even kissed me, but still nothing. I was just ‘good mate lij’ Fuck I hate that name.

I was reduced to following him around with puppy dog eyes, drooling. Pathetic I know, but what was I supposed to do, buy him flowers and chocolate? This was the state I was reduced to. I have to explain all this so you understand why I did a very stupid thing. Very, VERY stupid.

I asked Dom for help.

Hours it took him to stop laughing, hours and bloody hours. He’d stop for a bit, give me a good slap on the back, try and say something supportive and then bloody start laughing again. Bastard. I know it was stupid asking him, but what else could I do? Ask Mr I’m-so-straight-my-ass-is welded-closed Astin? I was desperate! Still, Dom is a bastard. Many hours, several beers, a family sized pizza and the loss of my dignity later, he was ready to put his mind to the problem.

Dom has always portrayed himself as a bit of a ladies man who didn’t necessarily have them flocking to his feet before the rings. He had to work at seduction. Turned out he was quite good at it; actually came up with a good suggestion - once he’d stopped laughing and got over the initial shock. He even admitted we suited each other and that *it might just work.* Bit of a surprise that was, thought only I could see it.

Now Dom’s plan was that we would get Billy into ‘the right frame of mind’ and ‘the right situation’ and then let ‘nature (and my big blue eyes) take their course.’ Bit too many quotation marks for my liking but the basic idea seemed sound enough. So it was all carefully arranged … The three of us went out for a few drinks, back to my place for a sentimental horror movie (didn’t know there was such a thing), the lights were turned off, we were all snuggled up on the sofa and - here comes the master stroke - half way through Dom sneaked home. Good man.

See, told you things in gay land were different. You couldn’t get away with that as a seduction technique with a girl. Turned out you couldn’t with Billy either. I thought it would work, I really did - blokes like that sort of thing. But I’d forgotten it was Billy and me.

I can’t hold my drink and Billy gets scared at fireworks.

Within a few minutes of Dom going Billy was trying to hide under my arm, pulling me down on the sofa, which should have been a good thing, you have to admit. I retreated into fantasy land as I ran my fingers through his hair, smelling him and … next thing I knew he was fast asleep. It might not have been the plan, but god it felt good. We stayed like that until the early hours, him asleep on my chest -- dribble running down his chin, me half dozing, half feeling sick, head spinning, till he woke up. "What you doing?" he asked. What could I tell him? I had to pretend I’d been asleep as well.

Okay so maybe I should have tried to kiss him or something but I felt like shit, looked like shit, probably smelt like it and I desperately needed to pee. Did I tell you I can’t hold my drink? Billy rolled off me and looked down faintly revolted. "We need to sleep, got to be up in three hours," he said wandering off to the spare room.

"It’s cold in there, share my bed instead!" I shouted. Only of course I didn’t. The moment had gone and I was too scared. But I wanted to, I really did.

Dom was disgusted by my lack of success, waste of a good plan he said. And it was but it was also too late. So Dom thought about plan B and I started to worry again.

Turned out Plan B was eminently sensible as well, doesn’t sound like something Dom would come up with, does it? But it was. Proves how little I know. The plan was that I would make myself so irresistible and lay myself out for him in such a way that he couldn’t, err… resist. But how to do it, that was the trouble, I thought I’d already offered myself to him on a plate but Dom assured me Billy could be a little slow on the uptake so I had to be really obvious for once. Luckily he had an idea for this as well.

We all went to the beach, surfing again, and I made myself look as alluring as possible as instructed. Difficult in just a pair of swim shorts but I tried. Then, when everyone else went in, I arranged myself enticingly on a beach towel. What’s a good position? I was aiming for seductive rather than overtly slutty. One hand behind my head the other resting on my belly, fingers just dipping under the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down just a fraction to revel a little extra hair. (Yes, I do have body hair!) One knee bent up and out in, with a bit of luck, a provocative manner.

A good position? I hope so because it wasn’t very comfortable, but I lay back like that -- brave solider that I am -- waiting for my man to become so overwhelmed by lust that he would fall on me and declare undying love.

It seemed to work as well because a while later I felt a shadow fall across my closed eyes and I heard his distinctive voice, "Elijah?" All right, so he didn’t sound very lust crazed, more concerned really, but he was there. "Elijah, I really think you should wake up and put some sun cream on. Better still put some clothes on."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fell asleep with no sun cream. Fuck!

Oh god it hurt. I was slightly crispy all over but I’d really toasted the inside of my thigh and the underside of my arm. Well, those bits never see any sun. Couldn’t put my arm down for days and there are only so many reasons you can walk around with one hand on your head. Worst bit was my thigh, I had to move as though I’d just got off my horse after a very long ride. John Wayne Hobbit indeed.

One good thing was that Billy did offer to come round and rub after sun lotion in for me but even from him it was unbearable, felt like he was using sandpaper covered fingers. I tried to convince him that it was helping just so he’d stay but I think the tears running down my face were a bit of a giveaway.

Never been so laughed at in my life and I couldn’t even blame Dom, although I gave it my best shot. I do blame him for what he did next though. He said I’d wasted his best plans and that I wasn’t worthy of further help, but then he took pity on my pathetic half red face (did I tell you that when I fell asleep my head was turned to one side? Result - left side white, right side bright red. A lovely look, I’m sure you’ll agree.) He took pity on me and asked Orli and Viggo for advice!

He told them all the pitiable details of my non-existent love life while I sat there, firstly trying to shut him up and then, felt the rest of my face go a matching shade of red as I tried to hide behind a cushion. And he says he’s my friend, yeah right. Now I had three of them laughing at me. Vig smiled at me, all sympathetic and pitying, and Orlando said "I wondered why you’d stopped putting out." He has such a way with words, does Orli.

Then they sat there like three slimy, smug bastards and discussed my next step, ignoring me completely. My next step was going to be kicking them all in the head but if I did that they couldn’t come up with any more plans.

I am but a weak and desperate man and I wanted Billy so much.

After a long evening of much drinking the plans were starting to get more and more ridiculous. At one point Viggo asked why I didn't just tell Billy how I felt. His eyes looked serious and concerned but he's a good actor and I'm not the gullible. I mean, just tell him? No, if I hadn't got him going first he'd just run away screaming.

It was decided that we'd try Orli's idea next, Plan C I think. Not sure I got any say in this decision, by then they’d all taken over and I appeared to be just a bystander. Not sure I even liked Plan C very much but they all assured me it would work -- as long as I was a bit more careful this time.

We were going to play Truth or Dare, oh don't laugh! I know it's childish, I even said so, but they all claimed that you can't beat the classics, and as they were all getting more than I was, who was I to argue? I was told in no uncertain terms that although Billy would be given free access to the alcohol, I wasn't allowed any. Come the night Dom relented a little and let me have some watered down wine. He said I looked so nervous I'd wet my pants if I didn't calm down.

So I had a little wine, I calmed down, behaved myself impeccably and ... it didn't work at all. Billy didn't take any of the hints or openings. No, he had no special feelings for anyone on set, he didn't secretly jerk off to thoughts of anyone, he didn't harbour any desires to try anything new and, worst of all, he always fancied blondes above all others. Wonder if I should get the bleach bottle out?

I did learn some really interesting things about Orli though. Who would have believed he'd only slept with six people, I thought he was lying at first, but no just the six. There goes the 'Orli is a slut' theory. Still it's one more than I've had, so he is still worse than me. Ha! Also I've got Billy now so my total isn't going to change but I bet his goes up. More amazing than that is the fact he was eighteen when he lost his virginity. Eighteen! Bloody hell, talk about a late starter. Viggo was twelve; now that's just plain boastful.

But Billy? Nothing. I learned nothing, got no where, didn't plant a single seed. I was so fed up I could have cried, but I don't do crying. Next evening I was back with Dom, Orli and Viggo and the plans were getting ever more outlandish and desperate. Maybe he liked strong and dominant. Coming from me tricky, I grant you, but I’d give it a go. Guess what? It didn’t work. Neither did any of their other hair brained schemes and with each failure I got more and more despondent, Viggo looked increasingly sorry for me and … well, at least they stopped laughing at me.

So that was it, I had tried plan A, B, C and X, Y, Z. Nothing. I had to accept the fact that Billy just wasn’t gay enough. I couldn’t get any response from him at all, and I like to think that if I couldn’t then no man could. No, let’s face it, Billy just didn’t fancy me.

And so I pulled back, stopped watching him, stopped trying and got used to the idea that I wasn’t, for once, going to get what I wanted. Bloody ironic that, the only time I’ve really wanted something and it wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t about to throw myself under a train, people survive this all the time in books and films and real life, but it … hurt. It really hurt.

A day or so later and I was beginning to accept it, thank god the others had stopped laughing and even done the decent thing by giving me some space. Which was why it was so annoying when someone came and sat next to me after I’d gone to so much effort to find some space on my own. He just sat next to me, not too close, no hug since that could have made me lose control, just close enough to offer support and friendship. "Elijah, what’s the matter?"

Billy.

Of all people it had to be Billy. I dropped my head. "Elijah please, talk to me." I looked up and there he was my beautiful Billy. Only he wasn’t mine, never would be, and it hurt so much. I think my face must have crumpled a bit because he sighed, running a hand through my hair before he pulled me to him. It did no harm to enjoy this, just for a little while, my head in his neck, pressed against his body. It did no harm because it was never going to be anything more.

Only it did do harm because it was so painful, to be this close and never be able to go any further. "Elijah," he whispered against my hair and I looked up at him again. We were so close, our lips an inch apart. I could feel his breath against my skin, could smell his aftershave, could see each individual hair as it broke the surface of the skin on his chin. All I had to do was move forward a fraction and I could kiss him, maybe just reach out with my tongue and lick his lips…

But I didn’t because Billy didn’t want me, not like that, and it would hurt even more to have him be repulsed by me. Instead I pulled back and just sat there. It was going to be so hard to work with him for the rest of the film, so hard to play around with him but never be able to touch him like I wanted to. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t like him but it was going to be so hard.

"What’s wrong?" He asked again and I guess I owed him something.

I looked at him and then away. "I love you Billy, not as a friend, I love you." There I’d said it, calmly, quietly and with no games. Now he could be disgusted and walk away but at least I had said it.

"Oh," he said. Nothing else just, "Oh." We sat there in silence for a bit until he got up and walked to the door. It was better than him screaming that I was a pervert and thumping me I suppose; but not much.

Just as he got his hand on the doorknob he stopped, turned, and came half way back. "Do you want to go out to dinner then? Tonight, just the two of us?"

"What, like on a date?" I asked. What the fuck was I doing? Billy was offering to spend some time alone with me, it didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Only it did, I wanted so much and I couldn’t get my hopes up when I was finally accepting it wasn’t going to happen.

"Yeah, a date," he said and even, after a moment’s thought, managed to add a smile. Oh Billy I love you.

That’s how we began, with a quiet little date in a quiet little Italian restaurant and it was just about perfect. We took things incredibly slowly, at first we went backwards touching less than we had before, but it was worth it. Now when he ruffled my hair it meant something, when he kissed my cheek it made me glow and when he held my hand… Fairytale stuff.

It was worth the time taken. The first time we went to bed together and I tasted his cock it felt like coming home. So easy, so natural, so what I wanted. But even then we took things slowly, did one thing at a time, let him feel comfortable and set the pace. I’ll admit that at times I just wanted to rip his clothes off and jump him but I had so much already, I could wait.

After what seemed like forever we finally got round to fuc… It’s no good, I just can’t call it that with Billy. We don’t fuck, we make love. Now I sound like some soppy love story, what a sentimental cliché, but it’s true. I have honestly never, ever felt like this with anyone else. All right so it might not be the best mechanical sex I’ve ever had and it’s not like in the books. We don’t come screaming each other’s name, but does anybody in real life?

What we do is make love and it’s the best feeling in the whole wide world. I want to give myself to him so completely, I trust him totally and his pleasure is much more important than mine. I didn’t even know it could be like this and it’s better than anything else. First time we fuc … did that, I wanted to make it so good for him. I really took my time, I relaxed him, carefully prepared him, reassured him and worried I wouldn’t be good enough till he kissed me and said it was time.

Then I entered Billy and it was … I have to explain this just right, words like hot and tight won’t do, although it was both of those. No, what made it special was the fact it was so different. It wasn’t sex it was love, gentle warm ripples of love that ran between us; it was magical. No screaming and moaning, but lots of soft sighs and caught breaths. Magical. I even felt the first flicker of a tear, wiped that away pretty quickly, I don’t want him to think I’m a complete tosser, but it was there.

We do hard and fast now, sometimes even do rough, but always with love. And I like going back to slow and gentle. I didn’t realise sex could be as much about what’s going on in your head and your heart as what’s happing with your body. It took Billy to teach me that.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, has been anywhere near as good as the first time I tasted his mouth. Billy. So warm and sweet and mine. All I’ve ever really wanted and so much better than I imagined. Billy.

And now we’ve been together for ages and it still keeps getting better every day. I have this nagging little doubt that someday it’s all going to be taken away from us, no one gets to be this happy for long. When he sees me looking like that, he smiles, kisses my nose and tells me to stop worrying, that he’s never going to leave me. And I believe him too because, although my Billy isn’t really gay, he’s far enough along that line to love me. That and the fact that he knows a good thing when he sees it; we fit, we really do.

Fin

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