"It's just porn, mum..." - monaboyd, nc17

[unautremonde]

Author: Jem (me, duh)
Pairing: Billy Boyd/Dominic Monaghan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: this deals with porn. Not that I would normally think it heeded a warning, but... so yeah, porn, so tacky and gross and rude words and imagery. So yeah. Warning for that.
Summary: Billy's got a thing for porn...
Disclaimer: All I own is the computer this was typed on. You know, like... I don't own these guys. I don't know anything about them, don't want to imply anything about them... just... I don't know, look under the word fiction in your dictionaries.
Author's Notes: A big thank you to quite a few people. First and foremost, aelane for holding my hand while I was writing this. Also, this story is dedicated to you, a long time overdue promised gift. Hope you enjoy it. It's changed a tiny bit since last time. Second of all, thanks to my Lilli for betaing it, just like old times. I love you and you're the best and heeeeeeeeee! You're coming next week! Third, devilherself because heeeeee! Loved your comments and they helped. One little thing Ididn't change because I had no clue was that thing about Billy being right-handed or left-handed. I figured he'd be doing this on a borrowed standard computer with the mouse on the right. *shrugs* But that part made me laugh. *winks* And last but not least, thanks to ffenest. Your pointers turned out to be wayyyy helpful, thanks.

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It's just porn, mum...

It's just porn, mum, you're running away,
you wouldn't believe what the kids see today...

Trucks

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Billy has a thing for porn.

Not that unusual, admittedly. He’s been told that men like porn. It’s no big deal, it’s quite common, it’s the reason why so much of it is readily available.

So yes, porn and the vulgarity of flesh on flesh, harsh breathing and crude vocabulary. All of the fuck and so big, so tight... Billy likes the uncomplicated porn way, likes to dream of being a porn star, maybe.

He also very much likes to watch it.

There’s an undeniable thrill that comes with watching porn. The thrill Billy gets when he’s awake, the warmth of his bed behind him, ear stuck to the door, listening for signs of how deeply asleep his friends are. It’s close, very close to how Billy felt when he was twelve and waiting for the house to be silent before he could sneak out for a smoke. It was the bitter-sweet taste of the forbidden, the unmistakable added flavour, that made any cigarette worth his while.

And so he waits. Waits for Elijah’s soft snores to filter under the door, waits for Orlando to be so out of it that even an elephant going down the stairs wouldn’t make enough noise to wake him up... prays for Dom to remain blissfully oblivious, lost in dreams.

Then he walks out of the room and down, makes his way to the small room that serves as an office, turns the computer on and starts indulging.

By now, Billy knows all the tricks, knows how to get inside sites without paying, knows where and when he’ll most likely find new material... he also knows most of the names, can recognize a guy from his dick, or from the way he grunts and moans, can tell which girl is faking, which one might actually be enjoying herself a little bit... which one specializes in threesomes, which ones he’ll probably see in that brand new orgy he’s found advertised all over his favourites... Yes, he knows a lot.

Billy can also most definitely recognize an addiction when he sees one, of course.

Not that it matters much. The way Billy figures, it’s probably way healthier to be up in the middle of the night masturbating to outrageous professional porn, than it ever was to sneak out for a smoke. As a matter of fact, Billy’s pretty damn certain his own little dirty addiction isn’t as bad as Elijah’s love for cloves.

He still feels guilty, though. Still feels a slight pinch, a slight tightening in his chest every time he closes the door to his bedroom and purposefully makes his way towards a sanctuary of debauchery. Not guilty enough to keep him from reaching down, hand poised at the waistband of his sweats before he’s even turned the computer on... but guilty enough that there’s an added thrill, a feeling of urgency at the thought that one of his friends might come down and catch him red-handed.

A bit like the time they all walked in on Elijah masturbating to Liv’s Playgirls.

And no, that doesn’t even make Billy feel justified, because one can’t forget that Elijah, after all, is very much entitled to his horniness. He is all of 22 years old, an age when being horny and into porn and visual stimuli really is more of a requirement than anything else.

Billy’s 34, though. 34 and supposedly past his prime. So no, he doesn’t feel justified and still breaks into a cold sweat every single time the floors creak.

There’s a lot happening on the screen, now. A girl with heaving breasts, her head thrown back and her muscles trembling, jiggling with each thrust from her partner. Driving and pushing, and there’s the delightful slap, slap, slap of sweaty lubricated skin on skin, something that never fails to go straight down to Billy’s cock.

Billy leans forward, tottering on the edge of his seat, right hand light over the mouse, ready to click on the next link, the next trail to more of this, more fat heavy rods driving into slick pussies, words as colourful as the images Billy relishes. His left hand grasps tightly at his own cock, pulling it out of his sweats, movements quick and precise. Efficient. Billy’s as hard as he’ll ever get, mainly from what he’s licking his lips at, and partly due to all the feelings of forbidden fruit and guilty pleasures.

There’s a rhythm to be found, one Billy falls into almost too easily, too naturally. He pulls on his dick, fucks his fist eagerly, and breathes harshly, his moans and grunts still soft and quiet, yet loud enough to cover up all other noises.

It’s Billy’s favourite moment. The one turning second when everything and everyone falls right over the edge. The girl turns around and closes a tight fist around her partner’s cock, wraps pouty red glistening lips around it and slides them down, nose buried in the guy’s pubic hair. It’s crude and not quite realistic, shows off skills Billy’s rarely encountered. But it’s hot.

Unbearably hot and Billy forgets, throws his head back, pulls tighter on himself, holds his breath and waits, feels the tingly feeling start in his balls and draw out, slowly reaching every last extremity of his body. He’s burning all over, on the verge of what he hopes will be a mind-blowing orgasm, just as on cue, the guy on screen whips his cock out of the girl’s mouth, spurting spunk all over her eyes and cheeks.

Oh, yes. Now is Billy’s favourite moment, without any doubt, and...

“Billy?”

Oh. Fuck.

Billy jumps, hands flying out and hitting the edge of the computer desk, just as he slips forward and out of the chair. He’s got his pants down by his knees, of course, and his naked ass hits the floor roughly, drawing a wince and a sharp intake of breath from him.

“Billy? What the fuck? Is that...”

Billy’s perfectly aware that this is by far the most humiliating moment of his life. Caught beating off to internet porn, his trousers down, his ass exposed, his dick standing hard and proud despite the unexpected interruption in the proceedings.

It’s really quite painful, too. Billy thinks it’s a bit cruel that he didn’t even have time to reach climax.

“You got up to watch porn?”

And of course—because fate’s a really funny lady—he had to be caught by Dom. Dom who’s standing right in front of him, mouth unappealingly gaping, gob smacked, eyes going back and forth between the computer screen and Billy’s erect penis.

Time to get a move on and pack everything in, obviously. Not that Dom looks like he’ll give Billy a hand. Neither in getting up and off the floor, nor in relieving what’s still left of Billy’s once raging hard-on.

Billy gets up, then, struggles both with regaining his balance and pushing everything back inside his sweats. Dom just watches, eyes still going from Billy to the computer screen and back. There’s also most probably the beginning of a smirk on his lips. In a minute, Billy’s pretty sure Dom will have realized just how horrendously embarrassing this all is. As is to be expected with Dom, he’ll then make ruthless fun of Billy’s bruised... uh... ego.

Which is why Billy almost dies of a heart attack again, when Dom takes a couple of steps forward and unceremoniously grabs Billy’s crotch. Billy tries to breathe, tries to ignore the instant burning he can feel radiating from his much-abused balls. Prays for Dom to at least be gentle.

Dom doesn’t make a move to let him go, though. Leans forward again, brushes dry lips over Billy’s mouth. Dom’s breath is hot and thick, his lips moist as he trails them to Billy’s ear, voice dropping to the lowest, porniest whisper.

“Porn, I can understand, Billy. But straight porn? You’re gonna have to explain that one to me.”

Billy nods dumbly, trapped by Dom’s hand, arousal still as unrelieved and painful. He doesn’t have much choice but to let Dom guide him backwards, back towards Billy’s room and bed.

Not that he goes unwillingly, of course. Dom’s got his hand on Billy’s dick, and an unmistakably lustful smile on his face, so maybe, just maybe, Billy will escape unscathed, unteased...

“And Billy? Next time you feel the urge to beat off to straight porn, could you at least wake your boyfriend up? I’d really love to watch.”

THE END