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Title: Irish Pancakes
Author: Pip
Rating: PG

For the first time in eons, here's a little ficlet I wrote for [livejournal.com profile] algernon_mouse, who requested Billy/Dom fluff.

First posted Sept, 2007



Dom crawled up the covers to lay his head on Billy's thigh. "Better?"

Billy wriggled his not-quite-as-sore-now-feet. "Much." He sighed dramatically. "I'm getting too old for this shite."

Dom nodded. "You are," he said solemnly. "I'm not quite sure how you can still get about without a zimmer frame, antidiluvian relic that you are."

Billy gave Dom's head a half-hearted shove, and when it rolled right back into place, he scritched Dom's scalp, the newly shorn hair deceptively soft. "You should get it tipped," he said meditatively. "You'd be hedgehoggy."

"They're a menace in New Zealand," Dom informed him.

"You're a menace in New Zealand."

"Can we have pancakes?" Dom rolled over and dug his chin into Billy's thigh, looking up at him.

"That has to be the most non-sequiturish non-sequitur I've ever heard. And with you around, that's saying something."

"It is not. Hedgehogs are a menace in New Zealand. They eat eggs. There are eggs in pancakes. I want pancakes. See? Perfectly logical."

Billy shifted on the bed until he was curled up around Dom. "Domlogic is a frightening scientific anomoly. You shouldn't work for the Discovery Channel, you should get them to study you. You could be a year-long documentary."

"A whole year?" Dom nuzzled Billy's belly.

"Well, you are quite fascinating."

"And handsome. Don't forget handsome."

"How could I? Pancakes, hmm? Do we have any milk?"

Dom scrunched his eyebrows. "Bollocks. I wonder if we could make them with Bailey's? It's dairy-like, and we have that bottle Ricky-Dicky brought."

"He hates it when you call him Ricky-Dicky."

"I know."

Billy made a face and squirmed around some more until he could reach the hem of Dom's t-shirt. One quick flick of head, and his nose had brushed it out of the way. He nibbled Dom's side. "I bet if we water it down a bit, it would work. Irish pancakes?"

"Irish pancakes it is," Dom agreed, and with a sloppysweet kiss, he bounded off the bed and headed for the kitchen.
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