Title: Finding Love In All The Wrong Places (1/3)
Fandom: The Fast and the Furious
Pairing(s): Dom/Brian, Letty/Dom
Warnings: Slash. Mildish hetrosexual acts. Swearing. Mentions of domestic abuse.
Rating: Hard R I think
Summary: Letty realises that true love isn't waiting for her, and that maybe she shouldn't pry below Dom's outer shell.
A/N: Angsty stuff this. And be warned probably fairly graphic slash next chapter.
Dom's always had a roving eye. I've known that since I was sixteen, and first set out to catch his eyes- not as a little girl but as some-one who he could see as desirable. And for those years I've managed to keep those eyes fixed firmly on me, because since I was six years old, there was no-one I wanted apart from Dominic Torreto.
It's got to sound pretty strange to admit, that by the time I was ten, that I had decided I was going to be a great female racing driver, just because Dom was into cars. Of course after a little time,it was the cars themselves that drove me on, and had me realising that racing was in me, as nothing else was, in my blood from my father. The only thing I got that I'm proud of from him.
But even the thrill of racing at top speed, has nothing on the feel of Dom's eyes looking me over after a race, and knowing just what is going to be waiting for me as soon as we get home. So you see I am never going to lose Dominic Toretto to some-one else, because I just don't do losing.
Skanks were no problem. They were hot I suppose, if you liked big breasted girls in small t-shirts without a brain cell to share between them. And Dom, like almost every other man I knew, did like the sort- for a quick roll in the garage. But there was no-way I was going to share even that much with them without painment. And that wasn't spelt wrong. Dominic was mine, and he knew exactly what I would do if I when I caught him messing around with some-one else. It was slow and painful and lingering. It did happen of course, because Dom is a man, and I reckon that deep down, men are weaker than women. They can't resist temptation when it's in their path- Tran's sister springs to mind, that Vietnamese tart, and Jessica the model, and Candy the skank. But Dom paid for them in my coin, and I counted it enough.
I'm not pyschotic. It's just the way me and Dom worked. He knew the rules. No other women, and he got what he got out of me. And it worked the other way round. I never touched another man, from the time I first slept with him. It was him or nobody.
So I wasn't prepared for competition when it came. And it wasn't from a skank, or from some college girl who wanted some rough, or from anyone who could have been warned off with a show of force, and of possession, but from an unconscious seductor, who moved like they owned the world, whose eyes changed colour as they walked, flickering from shade to shade, and still hidden and mysterious. Wasn't even Dom's type. Blond hair had never turned him on, and I knew that he loved my raven black hair. The body? I knew I was curvy, it had never bothered me. I was slim, but managed to get the best possible body shape, as compared with the tall, slim frame of my competitor, which to be honest was all angles and bones that fitted in symmetry.
And the most potent aphrodisiac was that neither of them knew. Neither of them had an idea of just what sparkled in the air from the first time they met. And yet I knew. And it was driving me mad, having to all the time, watch this unconscious dance of my boyfriend and another guy.
There I said it. My fucking competitor was a goddamn man. And that was the most worrying thing of all. Dom is straight. I think I'm living proof of that, and yet when he got in Brian's proximity, there was something that changed- something became visible, that I hadn't seen since the early days of my chase of Dom. Something forceful and sensual lurking beneath the surface, like a huge cat just waiting to pounce. And all those god-blasted touches. They weren't even aware of how much they touched, all the opportunities of passing tools, and sitting together at meals. You could smell it in the air almost, the way they used to work way off from everyone else, on that car sitting inside that bonnet, in such a way that even if they had been as hostile as cats and dogs, they couldn't avoid touching. I used to look at Mia's face and try and trace Dom's features in her face. They were as different as chalk and cheese, yet common features lingered there, and they were more alike than they knew in temper. And it was like an ache inside me, as I tried to work out, if Brian was attracted to Mia, because she was Mia, or because in those unconscious movements of hers, he could trace Dom's movements.
And then I examined myself, looking to find traces of Brian within myself. Again, as different as chalk and cheese, but maybe there was something there I couldn't see, and Dom could. I started to get nervous, and restake my territory. Try as I might though I couldn't hold anything against Brian. Vince was the only one who was wary and mistrustful of him, and sometimes I wondered if it was just because he was interested in Mia, or if it was because he got the vibes coming off Brian, and instead of pulling him towards Brian as had happened with Dom, they were repelling him and pushing him away.
And it was such a goddamn relief to find out that Brian Earl Spilner was actually Officer Brian 'O Connor, such a relief to see the hurt and betrayal on Dom's face, as he processed the information that his beautiful golden boy, was an undercover cop, doing this for a job. It was so painful though to watch him try and match up the laughing Brian, with the man who had pulled Vince off a truck, when even Dom couldn't, and who had shot Lance until he was dead, with the man who had knelt in Vince's blood and told them he was a cop, and then given Dom the keys to his car, and a chance to get free.
And even when we were on a golden beach in Mexico, with the sun beating down, and cold beer in the fridge, recuperating from injury, that was all that went through his mind. Over and over again, looking for clues to what Brian had been. I would be willing to bet my life, that the latent attraction he'd had to Brian wasn't being acknowledged and processed. But it was still there in the background. How could Brian have done it to him?
And it was that hurt and pain, that told me how deep under Dom's skin, Brian O Connor had got in the month that he had known him. It was like I had betrayed him, or Leon had.
Vince died that day. The doctors couldn't save him. He didn't say a word- Mia was there as he died, and he just held onto her hand, like a child. Vince was more like Dom, than I ever guessed. He preferred dying to the twenty years he knew he could face, and I know for a fact that it wasn't the doctors that hadn't saved Vince, it was the fact that he had turned his face to the wall and chosen to die.
I never saw Dom cry over it. He changed. Long walks on the beach became the norm for him, when before he'd always be with people. His eyes were changed as well, and he became silent. The orange car had been sold- too conspicuous for our present mode of life, and we had a brown truck like car, that Leon drove to get supplies. The house was small, with three bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a sitting room, and that apart from a huge attic was it. This was what when people talked about the 'simple life' I had always imagined. The house had electricity- the last owner had been a yuppy with a fancy for a beach house in Mexico, and he'd gone to the trouble and expense of running electricity out here. But there was no television, and no computer either. There was a radio, but only because Leon wanted to keep up with the sporting results. The rest of the time it was turned off. A small fridge held beer, and the few articles of food that had to be kept cold. Dom cooked now Mia wasn't here, and he brooked no intervention. I'd tried to help just once, and he'd frozen me out completely until I left the kitchen.
Leon was another headcase. He spent most of his time fixing up the boat. It was nothing more than a dilapidated rowing boat he'd found- probably a fisherman's, but he lavished the same attention he'd once given to his car on it. Mending it- almost rebuilding it, then painting it deep blue, which Dom said was an unlucky colour for a boat, but which I thought was just fine. Dom painted the eyes on the bowsprit of the boat. It was so odd and creepy, I asked him where he'd found the idea. He claimed it was in an extract of a book he read in school once, and I didn't question him.
Life was very quiet, very simple. I think we were in shock- mourning for Jesse and Vince. Three of the five were left, and Dom our leader, seemed almost incapable of being himself. He was different now from any mood he had ever been in before. Even when we slept together, it wasn't like before. The raw energy he'd always had, had been subdued, and the first time he turned me away, left me pouting. I don't think he had diminished what he felt for me, but he just wanted to be alone to grieve. Eventually I moved into another bedroom- into a single bed. Actually the 'double' bed in Dom's room had just been two single beds pushed together. And if I'm honest I didn't feel like screwing either.
Dom never touched the car. Until one day he woke, and calmly told us he needed the car. He'd be gone for a few days, and he'd stock us up before he left. We all knew where he was going. Right back to Los Angeles, but he would listen to no-one's protestations.
I was left with Leon. I knew just whom he was going to see, and to my amazement so did Leon. Though he surmised for a different purpose. He said quietly. "Dom's gonna kick Brian's ass." Well he was going to do that sure, but it's what would come after- the talking that I was worried about.
I don't know what went on precisely during the three days he was away, though Dom filled me in a bit later. Brian lived in a tiny apartment, where he ate, slept and breathed work in an effort to get away from reality. He knew he was never gonna make detective after this fiasco,- he'd be bloody lucky to direct traffic, but until he redeemed himself, he couldn't see what else to do with his life, so he continued on the mundane cop duties. When Dom got hold of him, Brian had fought like a wildcat, and seeing the deep ragged scratches in Dom's arms, it would appear he wasn't unwilling to fight dirty either. Dom is strong, but the feeling I got was more that he'd been unwilling to lend his full strength to kicking O' Connor's ass, and as such Brian probably got a few lucky blows. That was all he told us, the rest I deduced. Men think they are so bloody good at subterfuge, that they can pass off light scratches, as fight wounds, when anyone seeing them beside the deeply torn scratches would know they were something else- I've given him more than a few scratches in my time let me tell you. I don't think the fingerprinted bruises on his shoulders came from any woman either. And it was that look in his eyes- almost satiated; not content- I'd be surprised if I ever saw contentment in Dom's eyes again, as though he'd been starving and just had a meal that wasn't quite enough.
I wasn't surprised when he came to me that night, and we made love awkwardly on a single bed, with more passion than for a long time, and I wasn't surprised when he hissed a familiar name, not even aware that he did so. Like there was an invisible third man in the room, partaking of these sensations. Which left me only one question? Was I willing to share Dom with a memory- Dom wasn't stupid he knew what ever had happened between him and O' Connor could not happen again, neither could risk it, and there was no way Dom could bring Brian home to meet the family. I felt like crying, for the first time in years. I just wanted to push the beds in his room together, and curl up with him, and to know he only thought of me. I wanted it in proportion to how likely I was to get it. Please. I begged God. Please, please, please. But he stood and walked away, and I stopped wanting it, and felt a cold hard anger suffuse my limbs. How dare he come to me, thinking of that slut? How dare he imagine someone else when he was in my bed? It was like pornography, some guy imagining a supermodel going down on him, instead of his sorta plain wife. I wanted to shout and kick and scream like a child. I wanted to drive Brian from his head, wanted to be the one, the only, to matter. I stood, naked. I didn't want to sleep in that bed anymore. I dragged a sheet around myself, and walked out onto the porch. The house was silent, nothing stirred. In front of me the sea was like a plain of blue glass, rippling gently, the beach like soft warm silk on my bare feet. I dropped the sheet- no-one was going to see me here after all, and walked into the sea. It was cooler than I'd expected, and flailing with my arms, I created my own waves. I was in there a few minutes only- memories of Jaws, scaring me from the water, even though I knew there'd never been a shark attack here. I wound the sheet round myself again, and wrung the water from my hair.
Leon wasn't asleep. He lay on his side, and the back of his neck looked like a child's, vulnerable and soft. The radio was a soft drone, some guy announcing baseball results, and then some cheery music, designed to convince anyone awake at 2.03 am, that yes suicide was a viable option. I know he heard me come in, but he didn't turn round. I sat on the chair, and at last his voice spoke, a soft growl in the darkness. "Can't sleep Letty?"
I nodded, knowing he couldn't see that. He shifted, turned and considered me thoughtfully. "Don't blame him Letty." I couldn't speak. Leon knew about Dom and Brian? His next words disillusioned me. "Dom had to do what he did. Had to finish things off with O' Connor, and if he had to hurt him, then that was what he had to do."
I winced in the darkness. Poor Leon. Must be nice to be that oblivious though, and finally I spoke. "I know Leon. But it's nothing to do with that. I just can't sleep." My obvious revenge came into my head. What I could do to fuck things up even worse, between us. I could seduce Leon, and Dom couldn't say a word. But I dumped that idea. Leon was innocent in all this, and sleeping with him would just alienate Dom even further. The only way to make Dom forget Brian, was to remind him of what had attracted him to me in the first place. And I'm not talking about car driving.
Next morning, for the first time in weeks, I bothered to dress properly, like I always had done, and like I'd somehow forgotten to do. Light stuff- was hotter here than LA, but as attractive as I could, and I was the first up, making coffee and toast, shoving the beerbottles into a sack, tidying the room, doing all the things I'd promised myself in the memory of my downtrodden mother, that I'd never do. For a moment I felt like her. It's the lot of woman throughout the ages. Try to attract a man, clean up after him, hope he'll marry you. My father had married my mother, sure. And look what that got her- an abusive husband, five kids, and what if she'd had enough money for a doctor would have been termed a nervous breakdown. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was not like her. I was doing it out of choice, because I loved him. I wondered if that had been her excuse as well.
The fucker didn't even notice. He just grabbed a mug, made his own coffee, and sat in his usual spot at the worn wooden table. I fought the urge to smash a plate over his unknowing head. How dare he ignore me? I don't think I'll ever tell Dom how close I came to attempted murder just then. It'd shock him that's for sure. I settled for queasy anger, and clashing dishes. I suggested a walk along the beach, and he reluctantly agreed. See what I mean? Always reluctance. I bought a blanket, and a swimsuit, and we walked a half mile out, to the most desolate bit of coastline I've ever seen. We sat, and I fought the urge to let it all out. But instead, I turned to Dom, and smiled the smile that's always, and I mean always turned him, and every other man I know on. "Let's swim." It wasn't a question.
He looked at me absently. "You can if you want. I'll wait here."
I thought I saw my cue, and started to change, stripping. He wasn't even looking at me, just through me, and I think I got desperate because instead of putting on a swimsuit, I leant over him, and kissed him, expecting a return to last night. After all it was ages since I'd done this to him. But when I felt a hand on my breast, it wasn't caressing, it was pushing me away, and his eyes were deadly serious, and I could see pity in them. The words were simple. "I'm not in the mood Letty. He stood then, and walked off without a backward glance, leaving me kneeling naked on the ground. In a position of the utmost humiliation and horror to me. This was anathema to me. I was strong and self reliant, and yet my world revolved round Dom. I felt shamed, and utterly humiliated, as though what I had done, had made me somewhat less worthy.
And for a moment I wondered if I really was no better than the others, Candy, Jessica, Tran's sister. Maybe I meant no more than that. An easy lay, and cheap. After all a smile makes her happy. It was like my mom all over again, and I wondered if she had ever done what her daughter had just done. If she'd ever sought to keep her man from straying like that. If she had it hadn't worked. My dad had reeked of cheap perfume, and easy women. Shreds of Catholicism came back to haunt me. I might be going to hell for this, but it wasn't half as fun as we were promised it would be.
I don't remember how I got back to the house. My mind was throwing up images of Brian and Dom together, and savagely I wondered if he had loved Brian. Yes loved. But that wasn't Dom's style was it? Love didn't enter the equation. Maybe two men were better at playing that particular game. Neither of them would entertain the thought of love after all, and hurt could be suffered with impunity, dismissed as just fun and words. I entered Dom's room where he was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, but before I could attack, he stole my words. "I'm sorry Letty, about earlier."
I injected as much venom as I could into my words. Attack was the best form of defence. "Oh don't worry Dom. I understand. Woman aren't your thing are they? You'd much prefer it if I was a man." I knew that would hurt. Early teaching held true, and Dom hated 'faggots.'
I sat out of reach and continued. "If it really was that good Dom, maybe I should turn gay and fuck around with Mia a bit. Your sister's pretty isn't she Dom? Think she'd be up for a bit of action? I'll even let you and Brian watch."
I knew instantly I'd gone too far, as with anger written on his face he hurtled towards me, with a slap that rocked my teeth. I didn't recoil, or put my hand to my face. Let him see the marks. I don't think Dom ever hit a woman before, and I used it. "Good way of shutting me up hey Dom? Hit me round a bit. Become an abuser, just like my father and probably yours was. It's our culture Dom. A spot of woman beating, makes men feel a lot more macho. And after screwing Brian, your macho meter probably needs topping up a bit."
He'd sat on the bed, and was staring at his hands. He might not even have been listening. So I continued, pouring out poisoned words that I knew I'd regret moments later. "Here I was all these years thinking you had the hots for me, when you were just waiting for the right blond cop to sweep you off your feet."
Then he finally replied, and for the first time he was old Dom in angry mode. "What the fuck are you trying to insinuate Letty?"
"I'm not insinuating anything Dom. I'm telling you that you slept with Brian. Don't even bother with the lies and denials. I got a hint from the scratches and that bite, but the real clincher was whose name you called out last night."
"Letty." This time Dom wasn't angry. I could sense that the anger had oozed out of him, and that pity, and conviction were entering into his voice. He touched my hair, but I shrugged him off. I didn't want his touch. I knew our relationship was ended. It had ended even before I'd offered to sleep with Mia, before I knew about Brian. I think it started dying, when I got knocked around in that car, and the old brash Letty had cracked. When he'd looked at me with pity, and touched my cheek. Then it had died a death an hour earlier, when in a bid for attention I had done a one woman strip show. Because Dom needs strength, he'd needed me for backup and I hadn't been there. And then I'd done the last resort of the desperate woman. I was howling with misery, and we sat there and stared at each other. The words couldn't be retracted, and something strong had just crumbled.
I longed to throw myself on him and hug him, transmit the strength of my love, but I couldn't make that first move. Couldn't lower myself again, and he didn't reach out to me. I wanted to walk out, but where would I go? Where could I go?
All I knew was that Dom wasn't my future.
Whoah really, really Letty centric. Didn't even like her, but hopefully she came across sympathetically in this, and you enjoyed it. I know there wasn't much Dom/ Brian- that comes next chapter, from Dom's viewpoint. Each will move the action a little further on.