Pairing: Dom Monaghan/Remus Lupin
Dom finds him in London, in a shady little pub off well off the beaten track, and he thinks immediately Billy, though it's clear this man is not.
When Dom finishes his third pint and realizes that Elijah (bloody Yank twat) won't be joining him after all, he slouches against the manky velvet squabs of his booth, looks at the man again, and thinks, Not.
The physical resemblence is there, certainly. Smallish, slender bloke, though probably more solid under that ratty jumper than he appears. Brown hair, frayed about the edges, and growing out with threads of gold and grey. Lovely, sad, intriguing eyes, guarding secret spaces of solitude away from the world. Well-worn creases around a mouth that looks like it used to smile more than it does now. Grave deliberation in the careful hand that lifts a tumblerful of amber liquid.
And maybe a little recognition, a little fascination, in the way the man meets Dom's stare. And when he comes over, sitting down unasked, with a faint curve of his lips, saying wistfully, "I used to know a man who couldn't sit still," Dom starts, because Billy was like that sometimes, almost prescient, and Dom never could fool him, never even tried.
But this man's not Billy, he's not, and Dom can't figure out why he feels so strongly that he might be.
Near the end of the month, shuddering over Dominic in the narrow bed of his barren coldwater flat, Remus stares down with dark unreadable eyes and says, "It's no good, Dom. I'm no good for you. You should go, before you get hurt."
And Dom, panting and sweaty and stumbling toward climax, feels that rending again, and thinks, Ah, okay. There it is. Deja fucking vu.
It comes as a relief, in a way.