"You might have said something before I made a fool of myself," Billy said, all quiet, soft affection. But he knew, that wasn't true. To be like this--not just with each other, but in general--was something that people didn't often admit to. Billy had gone years without this sort of affection; and the last he'd had of it could not have been called affection at all.

He traced his thumb over Goodnight's little smile, and then leaned in and kissed him, because he could. The morning might be different, but for now, he could do this.