Couldn't roll me a seven if you gave me loaded dice

[assassinwithahairpin]

They arrived in Reno in the early evening, the sun glinting gold and red on the Sierra Nevadas to the west. The last time Billy had seen those mountains, he had been young, and it had been from the western side looking east. Not long after, his family and he had headed north to Oregon, then Washington, until he was sold into his indenture.

To consider the mountains from this angle was to consider his traveling companion. Goodnight had already gone in to get them a room at one of the various hotels while Billy saw the horses tended to in a stable near the common. It was better to house them there, Billy knew. Reno had a reputation for thieves, and he'd prefer they not encounter that with their horses.

He made his way back to the hotel, contemplating the makeup of the city. There were more blacks and asians here than in most places they'd stopped over the past months. Billy felt considerably less out of place.

When he reached the hotel, he found Goodnight sitting out on the front porch, contemplating the street. Billy did not walk up the steps yet. He considered Goodnight from that angle, the line of his jaw and the sweep of his hair around his ear. Billy had known he was in trouble about this for weeks, at least. He just didn't know what else to do. But these past few days, working their way toward Reno, he'd been feeling it more and more.

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[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy took everything Goodnight gave. He lingered a moment, until Goodnight began to soften in his mouth, and then he eased back. He didn't make any conscious effort to dislodge Goodnight's touch. He was so hard he couldn't think straight.

Gently, he righted Goodnight's clothes. There was no evidence of what they'd just done, like that, except for the streak still on his cheek. But that was Billy's problem to deal with, and not Goodnight's.

He eased away from the touch, too warm, too tempting, to be anything but consolation.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight sat up a bit as Billy pulled away from him, suddenly uncertain again. "Hey," he murmured as he touched Billy's shoulder. He didn't want to drag him close again, that seemed too forceful in a situation that felt abruptly delicate.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy gave Goodnight a tenuous smile, almost shy. He felt like a starved man suddenly, hungry for so long that the very act of eating made him nervous and weak. Regret crept through him--not for having done it, but for being so weak about it.

He touched Goodnight's wrist gently.

"We should get some rest," he whispered, voice thick from everything. "It was a long day."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight looked at a loss. He wanted, badly, to put his hands in Billy, to taste and explore every inch of him but... that didn't seem to be on the table. He didn't understand why. He stroked his thumb over Billy's shoulder before he let his hand fall away.

"Yeah... alright."

He looked a moment longer, holding his breath to see if Billy might change his mind. But the moment never came. Goodnight turned away to put out his lamp.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy breathed out, a slow, almost grateful sigh. This was the test of everything they'd build, maybe. This had been something dangerous, something terrifying, to offer up to Goodnight. He hadn't thought he'd do it quite like that, but it was done now.

He put out his lamp as well and laid on his side with his back to Goodnight, so they'd both have space on the bed. Sleep did not come.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight didn't sleep so much as he drifted in and out, and every time he woke it was because he realized, all over again, that Billy was laying next to him. A hundred times through the night he wanted to wake him, touch him, something. But there seemed to be some line and he had no idea what would cross it. And he didn't want to risk losing him.

When the sun finally made it high enough to stream in through the window, Goodnight got up. He needed coffee, breakfast. Pants. As he got dressed he looked over at the bed to see if Billy was awake.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy was sleeping still, hair fanned around him on the pillow. It had taken him an age to fall asleep, but once he'd gotten there, he'd been out like a light. Now, with sunlight threatening him, he was rousing slowly toward wakefulness.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight felt flustered just seeing him his way, as if somehow, suddenly, it was too intimate to even watch him sleep. With the way the sun came in the window, Billy's hair was a beautiful, warm brown.

Stop that. He had no idea if it was even his right to think of him like that, even now. He finished dressing himself, almost like putting on armor for the day. He sat on the edge of the bed to get his boots on.

"Want me to bring breakfast up?" he offered, soft in case Billy wasn't as conscious as he thought he was.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy inhaled slowly, a rousing sound. His knee bumped, gently and briefly, against Goodnight's back, then he stretched a bit.

"Please," he said. His voice was still sleep rough. "Coffee. Fruit, if they've got it."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

The touch was reassuring and confusing in the same breath. Where the hell were they both standing? Goodnight hesitated, but reached back to briefly touch Billy's knee before he got up. "I'll round up what they've got," he promised.

Goodnight was a bit more guarded than usual on his way downstairs, worried that, somehow, everyone knew what had happened last night. He knew how dangerous it was for them both, especially Billy. But, it seemed, the world had taken no notice. He charmed a young lady into putting together a tray for him.

He came back up with two mugs of coffee, a few fresh pastries, and a bowl of fruit. "Aren't you in luck that we aren't in podunk anymore."

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy had dressed while Goodnight was downstairs. His hair was still down as he watched his face at the sink, the water brisk and refreshing. He looked at himself in the mirror next to the dry sink, considering. They'd been out from towns long enough that he had a bit of facial hair coming in, but it was patchy at best.

He smiled briefly as Goodnight came in with the tray. He picked up one of the coffees. "Fruit and the coffee doesn't taste like dirt."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"And in San Francisco you'll actually have variety." Though to be fair, the bowl they'd sent up wasn't a bad mix. Goodnight settled in the lone chair in the room with his coffee. "Also you mind your tongue about our coffee. It has served us well between stretches of civilization."

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy laughed softly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Their coffee wasn't awful, it was true. But it wasn't the best, either, and Billy was just glad it gave him any sort of boost in the morning.

He settled on the bed since Goodnight had taken the chair, munching on fruit that was succulent enough he occasionally had to lick his fingers clean.

"Straight to San Francisco?" he asked, "Or are we heading to Sacramento, too?"

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight didn't answer right a way, momentarily distracted by Billy chasing a trickle of juice down his thumb. He shook his head a bit. "I'm inclined to push straight through," he admitted. "It's three and a half, four days at most. Unless you have reason to stop in Sacramento?"

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy shook his head, throwing a grape into the air and catching it in his mouth. "Never been, is all."

He left half the fruit, putting it in Goodnight's reach, then got up to throw together their bags that they'd brought into the hotel with them, making sure neither of them left anything behind.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Then we'll pass through. One more night with a bed between here and there is not going to get complaint from me." Goodnight ate one of the pastries that had been sent up - those would keep alright for a day or so, he'd probably wrap them up and tuck them away in the saddle bag he kept on the front by his knee. Easy reach for snacking. Then he went after the fruit; no sense in leaving any of that behind.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy nodded. He hadn't meant to push that, but he certainly wasn't going to turn down a day or two extra. It wasn't like either one of them was in any rush, or had anywhere else to be.

So, once they'd finished eating and assured everything was packed and ready, Billy left Goodnight to go get the horses while Goodnight settled them out of the hotel. He felt--jaunty might be the word for it. Some of the tension was out of his system, and he felt more at ease.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight, for his part, sort of went in the opposite direction once they hit the road. It wasn't all that strange for him to get a little brooding now and then but the cause was usually clearer: an unexpected bout of violence, a nightmare the previous night. He wandered into his own head, going over and over everything that had happened the night before in a desperate attempt to sort out what precisely had happened. They'd spent the morning like nothing had happened at all, other than the brief touch of Billy's knee against his back. And what was that? If anything?

He only came out of it a bit to go through their evening routines together, but for their entire ride to San Francisco, Goodnight was uncharacteristically quiet. Not harsh or dismissive or unpleasant... just quiet and a bit aloof.

[assassinwithahairpin]

The first few hours, even the first day, of Goodnight's quiet were things that Billy could deal with. Quiet happened between them. There was not always the need to fill the quiet.

But, as it extended, as it became something else, Billy found himself filling the quiet in Goodnight's space. That was how the time passed, then, as they made their way to Sacramento, and then to San Francisco. Billy spoke of anything and everything he could think of, most of it things they had already discussed at some point or another.

He ended up talking about the West Coast a lot, though. And Korea, what he remembered of it. His parents, what he remembered of them.

When they arrived in San Francisco, Billy was beginning to suspect that he'd judged too quickly. There was a wariness pressing in at his edges. Goodnight had never been this quiet for this long, and Billy knew what he'd done to cause it.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight perked up just a bit as they rode through San Francisco, a downright bustling city these days, rivaling New Orleans in his memory. They left their horses at a livery not far from one of the nicer hotels; Goodnight was going to indulge here - they had the cash and he was about to be flush with more, whenever he got around to checking to see if his family had been in touch.

They could certainly manage two rooms, rather than having to share as they had been since they started traveling together. Once their rooms had been sorted out, he passed one of the keys to Billy.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy felt something in his chest sink when Goodnight handed him a key, and was still holding one of his own. It was nice to be flush in cash, having been frugal so much of their journeying over the months. But they hadn't slept apart since they'd started running together, and the prospect of it unsettled Billy, just a little.

He really had, well and truly, throw a stick in the cogs here. What had he been thinking?

He nodded a little and grabbed his saddlebag to head to his room without questioning it. If Goodnight needed his space, then he'd have it. Billy would do his best to not think of worst-case scenarios.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

It's late when Goodnight finds himself knocking on Billy's door. They'd already eaten, turned in for the night; it had been a long day, a long few days, but he couldn't stand this another moment.

He was looking at the floor when the door opened. "Can I come in?"

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy was down to his shirt and pants, like the night in Reno, and he was suddenly self-conscious of the fact when he opened the door and found Goodnight there.

He shouldn't let him in. This was a terrifying thing. What if Goodnight was angry? What if he'd settled on anger in place of anything else?

Billy opened the door enough to admit him. "Is something wrong?"

[goodnight_robicheaux]

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.

[assassinwithahairpin]

It was not until Goodnight was on his knees that Billy made any sound, any look of hesitation. He shifted a little, took half a step back as Goodnight clutched at his shirt, and was not just quiet but fumbling.

What did he do here? He looked down at Goodnight, that supplicant look, those fingers working his buttons open slowly. He was sure Goodnight didn't know what he was saying--love. Love with an awfully heavy word.

Billy shivered and, cautiously, touched Goodnight's hair as he continued to make his way up his shirt.