unautremonde | "Love like mayonnaise" - monaboyd, orlijah, AU, PG13

Pairing: Dom/Billy, hints of Elijah/Orlando
Genre: AU
Rating: PG-13, I'm not sure. There is some sex.
Summary: set in some nameless American University, Dom is a foreign student/TA, Billy is a guest teacher for the foreign languages department.
Author's Note: for Rynalwyn, for her birthday. Thanks to Lilli for giving me her first honest impressions on this; I tried to take your advice into account, dear. Also, I know the title sucks (Megolas confirmed that it was kind of a put off), but I could not change it. This was the story's title all along, and I think it fits. I hope you won't get too stuck on it, lol.
Disclaimer: Did I mention AU? Yeah, so not true at all, then. Fiction, not implying anything in the least.

Love Like Mayonnaise

By three methods we may learn wisdom:
First, by reflection, which is noblest;
Second, by imitation, which is easiest;
and third by experience, which is the bitterest.

Confucius

When it comes to dating—serious dating, not random hook-ups—Dom has this… thing. He calls it a method, because anything else sounds a little too neurotic. Orlando calls it the “freak or be freaked test”, but since Orlando knows first hand what the method’s all about, Dom mostly just ignores him and keeps calling it whatever he likes to call it himself.

So, a method, and since it’s proven effective before, Dom doesn’t appreciate when people try to mess with it. He’s no longer dating Orlando, after all, which according to a lot of people in Dom’s life means the method sucks, but Dom really believes he and Orlando are better off as friends.

Orlando agrees. The method stands.

Dom likes being a T.A. even though evil Ms Berring dumped every single beginner’s class on him and it’s sometimes the most boring job ever. He likes the students, of course, but it gets fastidious when they never get off the “wie heisst du” or “wie alt bist du” level for months. Just once, Dom would like to engage in a conversation more exciting than exchanging directions to the “bahnhof” or the “gasthaus” with his classes. At least he gets to meet every cute freshman on campus before Orlando, and that definitely has its perks.

Dom met Elijah three weeks before Orlando claimed him, actually. It’s still kind of a sore spot for the two of them, since Orlando got in the way of Dom’s method. Not that Dom wasn’t going to forget about Elijah fast—Elijah’s so bubbly it tends to make Dom nervous; Elijah also kept stealing his jokes and the competition for the spot as centre of attention at parties had become annoying—but still, there was the method to consider, which Orlando did not. Also, it is kind of weird to meet Elijah on Sunday mornings, all rumpled and breathing coffee in what Dom considers to be his kitchen, considering the picture was already familiar before Elijah started sleeping with Orlando. Dom doesn’t really mind so much, he just thinks it’s potentially embarrassing to know what both Elijah and Orlando are like in the sack first hand. Dom doesn’t particularly like to have a daily reminder of his own sluttish ways.

Karl was the first one to call Dom a slut. And to be honest, nobody else has had the nerve to call him that to his face ever since. It’s not that “slut” strikes Dom as particularly offensive or insulting anyway, but coming from Karl, it’s pretty ironic. Karl teaches drama and had probably slept with at least half the faculty before they started dating, and if anybody qualifies for the title of campus slut, it’s not Dom.

Still, Dom isn’t afraid to admit he’s dated his fair share of men in the past couple of years, and having two of his ex-boyfriends engaging in loud sex in the room next to his can sometimes be a little unsettling. All worth it, of course, since sharing the flat with Orlando means not living on campus and sharing a smelly dorm with dozens of hormonally charged local jocks.

Dom likes America just fine. He chose to come here for a reason, and he gets cold sweats every year when his work permit and extended student visa are questioned again. So far so good, but if things all go according to plans, the thesis will be done in June and Dom needs to either resign himself to going back to England, or find a way to land a good job here with a company that will keep sponsoring him. Maybe the university will wake up and realize evil Ms Berring is… well… evil, and will offer Dom her job. He’s not too hopeful, though. The woman might be the devil in disguise but she’s published at least three books on the cultural importance of the umlaut, and that pretty much means the uni isn’t recruiting a new language specialist any time soon. Dom and Orlando have however both decided to not think about that yet and simply enjoy the advantages of being upperclassmen, T.A.s, bloody good looking and British, on a campus full of easily impressed pretty boys.

Liv keeps telling them how unfair she thinks it is for them to use what little power their position gives them over younger students, and that combined with that naughty little accent of theirs, it all makes for an overwhelming ensemble that most victims would be hard pressed to resist. Orlando tells her time and again that his conquests are in no way victims, and that whatever, she doesn’t have a case. She’s too pretty and enough of a man eater herself to not be allowed to envy them for being popular.

Liv works five nights a week at the local English pub. Or at least, that’s what the sign over the door advertises. Dom doesn’t remember any of the pubs back home looking this flashy, though. The pub here is more of a club, really, and the name is just there to add local charm or something. It’s a nice enough place and Orlando and Dom both like to visit it once in a while. It’s not the most popular club in town, most students usually go to System on weekends, and most Saturdays, that would be where Dom and Orlando would choose to be as well. But the pub has good beer, and that’s extremely important to Dom.

Lately, they’ve taken to hanging out in the pub more often than not, weekends included. Orlando has Elijah and isn’t so eager to be seen on the scene anymore. It’s maybe a little weird for Dom to see his friend so… settled, but since he’s been going out with Billy for a record five weeks himself, he doesn’t get to tease Orlando and Elijah about domesticity.

Dom met Billy during a seminar on cultural differences and their impact on common English words. It was all very dull and boring, Ms Berring rattling on about lifts and fags, and Dom would have fallen asleep instantly if it hadn’t been for the very cute, very funny Scottish man who kept interrupting her.

It turned out that Dr. Boyd was an exchange teacher—Dom didn’t even know they had those—and that part of Dom’s job description was to wine and dine the department’s guests. For once, Dom liked his job just fine.

Billy isn’t just very clever, he is also extremely cute and charming and can rival Dom in humour without ever trying to steal Dom’s light. Dom can be blindingly charming and flirty around Billy, and even though Billy can hold his ground in all of that, it never feels like they are competing for attention.

It doesn’t hurt either that Billy is handsome. He has sparkly green eyes, always favours black shirts that make him look like every wet dream Dom has ever had, and he isn’t a student. It does mean they have to be careful since The Devil Incarnate would love to be able to fire Dom’s ass in three seconds flat if she found out he’s dating a faculty member—even an honorary one—but it’s all worth it if only to hear Billy say “She’s a nasty demon, that lass is” whenever Ms Berring happens to be in the vicinity. It’s never loud enough that she can hear him, but Billy’s singing accent never fails to make Dom laugh happily.

They’re having fun, Dom can’t deny it, but he’s still got to stick with the method and the steps and… despite all of Billy’s obvious qualities, things still haven’t been going well on that particular front. Orlando keeps telling Dom he’s a bloody fool for not throwing the method out of the window, but some habits are hard to break.

Dom took Billy to Liv’s pub on their first date. That’s always the first step, since Dom finds it necessary to know any potential boyfriend’s tastes in alcohol before anything else. Dom’s not just a student, he’s also from Manchester and there are certain things that will always remain sacred. Anybody who drinks Budweiser willingly doesn’t deserve to be on Dom’s list of friends.

Except for Elijah.

And Orlando, who never drinks beer anyway.

Oh, and Liv, who thinks Budweiser is just fine, thank you.

And of course, Mir and Vig and…

Ok, so Dom’s maybe ready to make exceptions, but he still thinks any boyfriend of his should drink something a bit more… British.

Billy ordered Guinness.

Not that Dom is against Irish beers, but he still thinks Guinness is nasty and right next to Budweiser on his list of big drinking no-no-s.

On their second date, they went to see a film. Dom let Billy choose it for the same reasons he’d let Billy order Guinness in the pub. Dom’s always been a cinema lover, and once drinking habits have been exposed, he believes movie going habits are the ones that need to be established in order for a healthy relationship to blossom. Also, seeing a film with a date usually leads to talking about it, and a lot can be learned about what two people have in common that way. Dom likes to have a lot in common with his boyfriends, mostly because there is no way he’ll ever spend another night watching a Steven Seagal film if he can help it. He got trapped once, stuck with Karl on a couch for two hours of bad karate and acting—and that told Dom more than enough about their future as a couple.

Billy picked Blue Crush over the promising European flick that was playing at the same time on the ground that the film was apparently all about surfing. Dom hated the it, hated that Kate Bosworth’ almost inexistent bikini top kept getting more exposure than anything else. But when Billy put his hand on his neck and dragged him into the best kiss in the history of kissing, only stopping for breath and to whisper about bloody brilliant surfing moves, Dom found he was sort of glad they hadn’t gone for the really intellectual option.

Billy loved the movie, apparently. He laughed and laughed at Dom’s indignant comments about lack of plot, cheesy dialogue, bad clichés and Kate Bosworth, and never once took it the wrong way when Dom said he thought the film sucked. Billy liked it for the same reasons Dom didn’t, and since they were both at least agreeing on the surfing scenes having been fun, it was ok. When they got back to Dom’s flat after that and had hot sweaty sex on the sofa—unbeknownst to Orlando who was thankfully out with Elijah—Dom wasn’t even sure he cared about the fact that Billy kept failing every single one of his tests.

It doesn’t even matter much that Billy turned out to be quite the bossy top when Dom has never particularly liked bottoming before, because wow. Billy is most definitely the best sex Dom’s ever had, and he’s had quite a lot.

Dom doesn’t really understand: Billy is fun, and sexy, and attractive, and damn good in bed… but apart from all of that and the fact that he and Dom share the same sense of humour, Billy still keeps failing every single one of Dom’s tests. It’s not just fucking with Dom’s method, that, it’s messing with his head.

After the relative drinks and film fiascos, Dom put all his hopes in the next step.

Dom loves music. Loves rock, loves an edgy independent sound, loves the rush of a good concert, loves to jump and bump in the heart of a mosh pit listening to his favourite band. Live music, that’s what it’s all about.

Orlando knows this guy from the music department who gets great discounts and always has tickets for every good show in town, so Dom asked Orlando to get him tickets for the Queens of the Stoneage concert. The tickets were only secured the day before the actual date, and Dom only told Billy about it in a rush between classes and barely had time to tell him to “dress for the occasion.” When he showed up on Billy’s doorstep the following night, he realized he’d failed to mention what “the occasion” was, except that it was a concert. Billy was wearing his best black shirt, his nicest black tie… and a kilt.

Dom was mortified.

He tried to ignore his embarrassment all the way to the venue, not wanting Billy to notice anything. Billy was thrilled. He’d heard of the band, actually liked live music a hell of a lot, played guitar, was in a band back home… Dom did not want to let his own disappointment ruin Billy’s good mood. It was kind of cute anyway.

By the time they got in line in front of the arena, Dom had almost managed to convince himself the kilt wasn’t a problem. He did notice a few amused looks thrown their way by kids with huge baggy jeans and tasteless T-shirts, but Billy appeared so completely unconcerned that it barely registered. They went in and made their way as close to the front of the mosh pit as they could, Billy bouncing and bumping enthusiastically to the sound of the opening act.

Dom soon found himself entranced, eyes glued to Billy’s legs as he jumped up and down and the kilt lifted higher and higher.

After all, a lot of famous people—musicians even—wore kilts daily. Dom remembered going to a Travis concert back in Manchester, and yeah, they’d been wearing kilts. They’d sung Britney Spears songs as well, but Dom had loved all of it and he had to admit that the kilts had not looked that ridiculous on them.

Come to think of it, it didn’t look ridiculous on Billy either.

Right before the end of the last set, Dom had forcefully dragged Billy to the bathroom and given him a very enthusiastic blowjob in the dirtiest stall, his head buried under the kilt. It had been fast and hot, and Dom had come in his pants like a bloody fifteen year old.

So. The method sucks, it’s become pretty obvious. It sucks because it’s effective and Dom knows it means Billy just isn’t right for him. Billy drinks Guinness, likes brainless stupid teenage films, wears black tie kilts to rock concerts… if Billy fails Dom’s last test, there will be no other choice for him but to break things off.

Billy stayed over after the concert, but they both have to go to class, today; Billy to teach and Dom to pretend to work on the thesis. Dom has quite the day planned, with hardly a break for lunch—15 minutes at best—so he needs to bring something to eat with him; there just won’t be time to go to the cafeteria. Billy smiles and nods and offers to make Dom a sandwich. Dom fakes enthusiasm at the idea, acts like this isn’t what he was hinting at, then settles at the counter with his coffee and anxiously waits for Billy to get started.

Orlando and Dom have very very different tastes in foods. Orlando doesn’t eat peanut butter, for one, and Dom simply hates mayonnaise. They worked out a long time ago that it works better for the both of them if they shop for groceries separately, and if they keep their respective purchases on two different shelves in the fridge. Billy has been coming to the flat long enough to know about this, so Dom cringes when he sees him reaching for the wholegrain bread and the big tub of mayonnaise on Orlando’s shelf.

Billy is talking, telling Dom about his childhood, life in Glasgow, his grandmother, his sister… Dom wants to be paying more attention to him because it could be very important stuff for a good boyfriend to know, only Billy has started spreading mayonnaise on the bread, and that’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to Dom since Karl made him a vegemite sandwich and he had to physically throw him out of the flat while he screamed and called him a deranged freaky slut.

Actually, it’s worse, because Dom did not want to keep Karl. Dom had never wanted to keep Karl.

Dom wants to keep Billy.

Dom thinks back, thinks about Billy in the pub that first night, thinks about their first kiss afterwards and the sweet and sour taste on Dom’s tongue from the lingering taste of Guinness in Billy’s mouth. He thinks of making out in the back row of some cheap theatre, of nice legs and kilts and blowjobs in dirty bathrooms… he thinks of Billy, spread out and sated on his bed, looking every bit as edible as Billy’s sandwich isn’t looking right now, and Dom just thinks “bugger this.”

Billy’s still spreading mayonnaise—thick layers on both pieces of bread—when Dom calls his name. He stops, knife in midair, and looks expectantly at Dom.

“Billy, I… I don’t like wholegrain. I don’t like Mayonnaise, either. I hate it, really.”

Billy smirks and winks, turns back to his spreading with a shrug.

“Yeah, I knew that, Dom. This one’s for me. I’ll make you white bread and cheese, ok?”

Dom says nothing, just watches as Billy wraps his sandwich and puts the knife down before bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. Any other day, any other person, Dom would find this revolting just on principle. Right now, it’s kind of cute. Dom can’t quite explain the urge he’s suddenly feeling to jump Billy here and there despite the fact that he knows what his mouth will taste like.

Billy failed every test: he drinks the wrong beer, likes the wrong films, dresses the wrong way… and yet Dom knows Billy is nothing else but just right for him. Maybe this is what the method is really all about, then: showing Dom what he likes.

Dom doesn’t like Guinness, he doesn’t like girly films and he doesn’t like kilts, but Dom likes Billy a hell of a lot. He knows this because his method made him realize so. He gets up and walks over to Billy, wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, buries his nose in Billy’s hair. Billy chuckles and reaches for the white bread, this time.

When it comes right down to it, Dom knows his method is infallible. Because really, in love like with mayonnaise: it’s really all a matter of taste.

THE END