One of many stories I have written about my recurring characters Bluey and Dom. Might upload more, but so far this is my favourite, and takes place sometime into their friendship.

Bluey and Dom, and their likenesses, have belonged to me for the last eight years, and I will sue :P However, the song "Resin on my Heartstrings" belongs to Newton Faulkner. R&R!

Resin on my Heartstrings

Another day, another rain-washed street and a looming grey sky, predicting thunder.

Dominic strummed mournfully, absent-mindedly, at his guitar. Normally he didn't mind the rain; the sound of it hammering his window made a nice backing track to his often rather somber music.

Today, however, it was draining him of inspiration, as if every drop of rain was a piece of his head. He couldn't explain it.

He plucked at a single note repetitively, until a voice from the corner of his room piped up.

"God, at least play something."

He'd almost forgotten his friend Bluey was even in the room. She had been sat quietly flicking through his dusty assortment of old CDs and cassette tapes, nosing curiously as she did whenever she came over. It seemed the rain was causing her to be irritable as well.

"Sorry." He muttered, not really meaning it.

"What's this?" She asked, waving a blank tape at him, whilst inspecting another.

Dom tilted his head, as if that would help him to remember. He recalled that his blank tapes were ones he'd made himself when he was much younger.

"I dunno, give it here," he said taking it from her, without waiting for her to reply.

Bluey scowled but said nothing as he put the tape into his CD player and hit play.

A few moments of silence, the fuzzy crackling of ancient technology, and then the mumbling of a young boy.

"… um… I'm Dominic. And uh… this is "Lizzie Blues"…"

Bluey snorted and covered her mouth when Dom shot her a look, but he blushed furiously when his childhood self began to play his guitar with youthful abandon… and little talent.

"She gone, gone, gone away

Lizzie's gone away

I thought she would be here to stay

But Lizzie's gone away-ey-ey!"

Bluey could no longer contain herself and toppled backwards in laughter, as little Dom began howling like a wolf. Seventeen-year-old Dom groaned loudly and flicked the stop button, drowning behind the blood that filled his face. Bluey sat up, grinning and wiping tears from her eyes.

"Oh my dear Dommy," she chuckled. "What in the blue hell was that?"

Dom looked sheepish. "It was an entry for a competition when I was a kid."

"And you wrote it about your sister leaving?"

"Yeah," Dom shrugged. "I was upset, who else was I gonna write a song about, huh?"

Bluey looked as though she was itching to go into hysterics again.

"Just so you know, I never sent it in." Dom said, relieved now that he hadn't.

Bluey smiled, almost sincerely, "Ah, I've heard worse. It was kinda cute anyway."

Dom looked at her and she nodded.

"So you've been playing guitar for a while then?" She asked.

"Pretty much."

"And the singing?" She enquired.

"I don't sing much anymore." He smirked slightly, running his fingers up and down the strings of his guitar. He'd stopped singing aloud since he'd played that tape to his brothers and they'd pounded him for it, calling him "gay". Now he only sang, mostly hummed, to himself, or when no one was in the house.

He looked up at his friend, who was deep in thought.

"Blue?" He mumbled, uncertainly.

"I'm struck by a thought, Watson." She said.

"My God, is that your first one, Holmes?" He replied cheekily.

Bluey frowned but there was the slightest hint of a smile on her face. "Very funny." She reached over and took his guitar, then fingered the strings. "I was just thinking you could teach me to play guitar."

"Teach you?" He said, raising an eyebrow. He had never thought of Bluey as being interested in music, other than having loud rock songs blaring out of her bedroom window till three in the morning. And he'd heard her singing, it wasn't great.

Bluey shrugged, "Sure, why not? You can play, I want to play, and we're both bored. And there's not much we can do together when we're bored." Her mouth curled into a demonic grin. "Well, except sex."

Dom was taken aback for a moment and his face turned hot, but Bluey eased up on him. "It was a joke, y'idiot."

She stood up with the guitar and lifted the strap over her head. Dom, being as tall and lanky as he was, had made the strap rather long, and Bluey, being a good foot shorter than him, struggled to play the instrument when it dangled near her knees.

Dom rolled his eyes and got up to fix the strap for her, consenting, he decided, to teach her to play a few notes.

"Hold still." He muttered, as she continued strumming. The guitar lifted to her hips and she was able to play it more comfortably. She played a slow, often note-perfect rendition of "Highway to Hell", and he sat and listened.

"Where did you learn that?" He asked, mildly surprised.

Bluey shrugged and sat down on the bed with him, "I did start learning a couple of years ago, until some little shit broke my guitar when I took it to school." She looked peeved. "You know my dad, he was too stingy to pay for it to be fixed. Then I just forgot about it."

"That wasn't bad." Dom smiled. "Know anything else?"

Bluey shook her head; Dom couldn't help noticing that she looked like a small child who was trying hard to remember her ABCs. "But you're gonna teach me, right?"

Dom sighed in mock-exhaustion. "I guess." He stood up and circled her, trying to figure out the best way to go about teaching someone else to do something he'd always been adept at. Bluey gently fiddled with a tune patiently as he pondered.

"I take it you know all the chords, then?" He said finally.

Bluey nodded, "Kinda. All I really want… is to know how to play like specific songs."

"Like?"

"Well, whatever. Metallica, HIM, whatever. You pick."

Dom knew what to pick, but he took a moment to look as though he was in deep thought; he knew the song he was going to suggest would make her grimace, but it was perfect.

He moved behind her and put his arms around her shoulders so that his hands hovered above hers over the guitar. Bluey raised an eyebrow.

"This how you teach?" She asked, unconvinced.

"Just work with me here," Dom snapped, feigning lack of enthusiasm. "I've never had to 'impart wisdom' before."

"There's a surprise." Bluey snorted, but he ignored her.

"I'm gonna teach you a slow song, m'kay? We'll move on to the heavy stuff later."

Bluey grunted, disappointed. She looked down at his guitar, barely registering how his fingers twitched near hers, or how his breath ruffled her azure hair gently while he showed her the notes.

But Dom noticed everything about her. How soft her pale little hands were when he moved them about; how her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth when she was concentrating really hard; how she sank comfortably into his chest, or how her hair smelled of jasmine.

Deep down his ulterior motives for teaching her this way became apparent to him, as he realised that the sight, the sound, the smell and touch of her playing to him one of his favourite songs wouldn't leave him for a while.

He began to feel hot under his clothes, and his mouth dried up, and Bluey played on, oblivious to the fact that he was rapidly falling for her.

The way her nose twitched adorably when she scowled at her mistakes…

The way she hummed so out of tune, yet not caring…

The way her hair brushed his neck and left him smelling of her…

Dom jumped back abruptly, knocking Bluey forward onto her knees.

She turned and scowled at him, "The hell?"

"I thought I saw a spider!" He gasped, quickly, knowing she would accept that as he jumped onto his bed.

She glanced around, looking for the culprit and muttering about Dom and his "bloody phobias".

He lay back on the bed, his hands on his face, beads of sweat leaving him dizzy. Surely, it was just a heat of the moment? The romantic song? The close proximity? The fact that he hadn't had a girlfriend in weeks?

As he forced himself to believe that that must be it, and that he wasn't falling in love with her, there was a little voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he had felt this way before, and perhaps it was happening again.

Bluey, meanwhile, had given up her search for the phantom spider and had seated herself on the floor, beginning to play the first few notes of the song.

"Y'know, I think I've pretty much got it now. Listen…"

And Dom listened with a tight knot in his stomach as Bluey began to mumble the words he felt himself want to say.

"I don't know why this took so long.

It wasn't hard for me to see.

It wasn't that I didn't notice.

It was just hard to believe."

Dom sat up slowly and watched her fumble over the strings, her freckled face contorted in absorption.

"But this is what you did.

What you did to me."

She had no idea what he was thinking, about her, about the lyrics, about how juicy her lips were when she sang, even if she wasn't the greatest songstress.

"You put resin on my heartstrings. You make 'em sing.

You put resin on my heartstrings. You make 'em sing.

And it's about time that I told you everything.

You put resin on my heartstrings. You make 'em sing..."

He moved over to her and put his hand on hers to stop her playing, she looked at him, those big blue eyes rolling over his face curiously.

"Was it bad?"

"No." Dom answered quietly. She was watching him with such an unnerved expression that he took his hand off of hers quickly. "I just… I think you've got it, Blue."

She beamed and flexed her fingers in front of her face. "Knew these babies wouldn't let me down. What's next then?"

Dom was standing by the window. The rain had stopped and he was willing it to stay that way. "I think that's enough for today." He muttered.

"Y'reckon?"

He looked at her, his heart aching so feebly at the sight of her pouting that he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. Not until he'd had time to think. He turned back to the window. "I'm pretty tired, you should probably leave."

Bluey stood and eyed him. She reached for his shoulder and turned him to look at her, narrowing her eyes at him, inspecting his face. Dom tried to look as nonchalant as he could, but Bluey's face softened on him as she noticed how upset he seemed all of a sudden.

"What's wrong dude?" She asked softly.

He shrugged her off, frowning slightly, "Nothing."

Bluey wasn't convinced, but she felt it was pointless to pry if he didn't want to talk to her. He could be moody on his own.

"Fair enough. Same time tomorrow?"

"Maybe." He replied.

He didn't watch her leave the room; he could tell she did it in a strop because the door was slammed. But he watched her cross the road outside of his house and slouch off in the miserable weather.

He was determined she wouldn't know about his feelings, not until he was certain of them at least. After all it was probably just a little crush, nothing too serious.