Goodnight stepped into the room, waiting for the door to close. He tried to think of the words he wanted: he'd had it all worked out but sometime between leaving his room and now it had all dissolved, vanished. He fidgeted, rubbing a callous on his index finger with his thumb.

He looked up, finally, at Billy's face, hopeful and uncertain and a little bit terrified. He closed the small distance between them and without warning he was on his knees in front of Billy, his hands lightly holding the hem of his shirt.

"I have no idea what this is or was meant to be or what you want, and no amount of thinking about it is going to change where I'm at and I-- I love you." His fingers shook a bit, but he'd worked open a button, then another, and he finally summoned the courage to look up, praying he wasn't about to face violence or cold rejection.