Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled

[assassinwithahairpin]

The longer they stayed, the more surreal this became, but Billy couldn't seem to think of a reasonable excuse to back out of their commitments now. The days leading to Christmas Eve had been filled with an air that he was looking in on his life backwards, watching all these preparations for revelry that his fingers itched to assist with because it had been his job to assist in these things the last time he had put foot in a house like this.

The afternoon of Christmas Eve, Billy lingered in the garden, smoking. People would be arriving for Matilda Robicheaux's party, very soon, and Billy wasn't entirely certain how he was going to survive. He wasn't sure how Goodnight was going to survive. But, as with all things, they would manage. They had each other in this.

Still, there was a quiet, worried part of him. A part that wanted to weigh his hips down with a pistol and a knife, a part that wanted to look everyone in the eyes and dare them to whisper about Goodnight or himself or both of them. There was a quiet part of him that feared he could not navigate this miasma, that he would get swept away at some point and treated as he had been as a boy.

Billy finished his cigarette, and continued to linger. He ought to go put his suit on and get ready, before guests arrived. It was a new one--which he didn't need--more expensive than Billy felt any right to be wearing. But it was Christmas, he supposed, and so he'd been gracious about it. He breathed in the New Orleans air, and then headed up to put the suit on. Goodnight had disappeared somewhere into the house, likely helping his mother with last minute things; Billy hadn't seen him since the end of breakfast.

He took his time, and by the time he was ready--dressed, shaved, hair pinned back--he could hear people arriving. He let himself out of the room he, and more often than not Goodnight, was keeping for the time they were here, and set out to find Goodnight.

Comments

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight felt like he was moving through a dream in the days they spent in his mother's house. Having Billy nearby helped, being able to see him and remember. For his part, he did his damnedest to stay out of the way of holiday preparations and remained cordial with Teddy.

Apparently word had spread that Lucien Robicheaux was back home; he overheard Anais talking with his mother about the people coming that evening. That was when Goodnight made his excuse to leave; he at least needed to get dressed. He took his time with that, trying to mentally prepare for socializing with people that had very particular ideas about him.

He saw Billy as he came down the stairs and for a moment he was struck still. God but he looked good, and suddenly the prospect of spending an entire evening pretending his man wasn't everything that he was seemed impossible. He made it down to the landing without falling over himself and for a moment stood too close to Billy. "Don't you clean up nice," he teased softly, needing just this moment.

[assassinwithahairpin]

They stood there on the landing, elbows brushing, and Billy let himself smile for a moment. He adjusted Goodnight surreptitiously, straightening his tie and smoothing his waistcoat lapels, with their little fleur de lis pins, and then the lapels of his jacket as well.

Once everything was smooth and straight, Billy tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers to keep himself in order.

"I know a man with a good tailor and a rich mother," he said blandly, that smile still curling his lips.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

His heart swelled as Billy fussed with all his clothes, straightening and smooth and finding every excuse to touch. Goodnight watched his face the entire time, resisting the urge to catch his hands, to hold him. A smile tugged at his mouth. "And now you know why I don't ever worry about money when we're passing through bigger towns out west."

Goodnight glanced toward the vestibule and could hear the voices of arriving guests. "Are you ready for this?" he asked, voice a bit tight.

[assassinwithahairpin]

"Oh, I already knew," Billy said, rolling his eyes. The day they'd met, Goodnight had been too impeccably dress to be anything but a rich man's son. "It's why I gave up giving you the larger share of the winnings."

He took a step down the stairs, now that they would not be touching each other for who knew how long. He breathed out slowly, a practiced, calming exhalation.

"Not in the slightest," he said honestly. "But I think your mother might drag us in by the ears if we don't come in soon."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Oh, she will. Or worse, she'll send the girls in to do it. And don't think I haven't noticed the looks Lottie's been giving you." His little sister seemed to have an eye for their foreign visitor, and though she had beaus aplenty, according to his mother, that hadn't stopped her from admiring Billy.

Goodnight couldn't tell if it was curiosity or genuine attraction, and he was embarrassed by even momentary flashes of jealousy.

He squeezed Billy's shoulder on their way into the parlor and reluctantly let him go again. It seemed that everyone here remembered him or had some story they'd heard about him. For the first half hour he was able to stay fairly close to Billy, offering introductions and generally keeping him in sight, but eventually he got somewhat swept up.

Eventually, when it seemed like most of the guests had arrived, the party was ushered into another room of the house: larger, perfectly capable of accommodating some dancing. Goodnight managed to find Billy again, gently gripping his arm when he did.

[assassinwithahairpin]

At some point, Billy had started to drink. It had begun with champagne in wide-bowled glasses that reflected the lights. It had become scotch with a bit of ice in it. His conversations, without Goodnight there to lead, were a bit stilted. He wasn't sure if that helped with the impression that he couldn't understand English or not.

When the party moved to a new parlor, Billy came along, though he was content to brush the outskirts of the paper now. He would, doubtlessly, remember a few of the faces in here later on. But he didn't know what use that was to him.

Goodnight found him. It was an effort to not break out into a full, beaming grin.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight looked at Billy carefully, then laughed. "Are you drunk already?" he teased, keeping his voice down. Unlike Billy he could not keep the smile off his face. His thumb brushed over Billy's bicep, a stolen touch.

He was, perhaps, a bit envious of Billy's head start. He'd had a glass of champagne but hadn't made it further than that. Something to be corrected sooner than later.

[assassinwithahairpin]

"Not drunk," Billy protested softly. He was a little fuzzy at the edges, but his suit was still in quiet order and he still had his head on his shoulders. People were getting ready to dance. Billy envied them, a bit, the casual interaction between them, the men putting on good face and the women looking considerate.

He looked down at his scotch for a moment, then back up at Goodnight. "Are you going to dance? Your mother seemed to be introducing you to a lot of young women. Maybe I'll dance with your sister."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Oh no?" Goodnight just grinned. He wanted to kiss Billy, wanted to taste whatever he'd been drinking, but that was not for them right now. He looked toward the mingling crowd as the musicians set themselves up.

"Likely," he sighed. He did not want to think of the women his mother had been floating his way. "Genevieve or Lottie?" he asked, maybe side-eyeing his partner just a little bit. "Genevieve will be far more forgiving if you step on her toes, I can tell you that."

[assassinwithahairpin]

"Lottie," Billy said, as if there wasn't any question about it. It was likely that she would be much more affronted if he happened to stumble. But-- "I don't want to cause too much of a scandal, dancing with a married woman that close to my age."

He looked down at his shoes for a moment so that he wasn't tempted to do anything stupid by looking at Goodnight. "I've had a very good dancing teacher, too. So hopefully I won't trod on anyone's feet."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight chuckled. "It's not a scandal," he assured. "Genevieve's married." And her marriage, functional as it was, was as more a shield than a vulnerability.

"And it's not rude for the hostess to dance with other people." Well, he supposed technically his mother was the hostess but Genevieve, as her oldest daughter, helped fill that role. Goodnight's look softened at the mention of a dancing teacher. "God willing you remember any of it," he teased, because a few times they'd been out of their minds.

Just a moment later Genevieve swept over, festive in her rich green gown. She had a spring of white flowers tucked into her hair. "Gentlemen. Lucien, Theodosia Gaudet may fall over herself if you don't ask her to dance." She gave her brother a look, knowing. Then she smiled at Billy. "My husband is occupied, Mr. Rocks. Would you be so kind to join me for the waltz?"

[assassinwithahairpin]

Genevieve's interruption could not have been better timed. Though Billy did not relish the idea of watching Goodnight dance with a woman, or women, throughout the night, he appreciated Genevieve's grace and delicacy. Billy was straight-faced enough, even tipping out of sobriety, that he managed to not look too sad as Goodnight went to go ask this Theodosia Gaudet to dance with him.

After all, Genevieve was lover. And he was fairly certain he could lead, these days. "You're in luck," he said quietly. "The waltz is the only dance I know."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Genevieve winked at him before she took his hand, drawing Billy towards the dance floor. "My husband learned it for me when we were still courting. He knew I loved to dance." She smiled at the memory as they took position. If nothing else, she was a gracious follower, easily keeping with Billy's lead.

"Where did you learn?" The dance provided some privacy - other couples whirled around them, enjoying each other and the music. Out of the corner of her eye she caught glimpses of her brother and Theodosia. Lucien had always been a good dancer. The pair of them had learned together, practice partners.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could constantly see Goodnight and where he moved in the room, but he kept his gaze on Genevieve, on her throat and chin, once they began to dance. He was still not very good at not looking at his feet, but at least it was a little harder to manage with her skirts in the way.

Billy gave Genevieve a brief smile and a knowing look. "A friend taught me. I've been trying to keep up with lessons. Mostly, it's just been the waltz."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Hopefully your friend is as patient as I remember. You're doing quite well." She smiled at him, kind and reassuring. She couldn't imagine how it must feel to be thrown into this family, this social circle. "Lucien's doing alright... isn't he?"

She couldn't help but worry; the war had changed him, and even if no one else wanted to see it she noticed. His decision to leave had not been a surprise to her, though it still ached. Genevieve worried that too many memories would come clamoring with guests eager to rub elbows with a war hero.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy laughed softly because, just as Genevieve said it, Billy stumbled over his own two feet. Luckily, he didn't make too much of an idiot of himself, righting himself quickly and continuing on as if he weren't a near-novice.

"He--" Billy stopped for a moment, gathering his words. He listened to the cadence of the music. He glanced over at Goodnight. "He has good and bad days. But he does alright. I help where I can."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

She handles Billy's stumble without trouble, adjusting her own steps until he catches up again. "I cannot tell you how grateful I am for that, Mister Rocks. He's mentioned you, a handful of times. I was always glad to know that he wasn't alone."

Genevieve catches sight of her brother again. "I worry about him here. Too many memories, too many ghosts."

As the waltz ended, she drew back enough to give Billy a little curtsy.

[assassinwithahairpin]

"I'm trying to help him stay on the level," Billy said softly, close enough to Genevieve that it was just the two of them for a moment. The music ended, and Genevieve stepped back to curtsy. Billy stepped back and gave her a little bow.

"It was lovely to dance with you, Miss Genevieve."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"It was my pleasure." She smiled at him. "Now let's see if I can wrangle my husband." She pat Billy's cheek before sweeping away from his side.

Goodnight was kept occupied for the better part of an hour before he managed to escape to the side, standing at the threshold between rooms and trying to catch his breath, as it were. Too many people, too many of them wanting to reminisce about things they had never experienced. And worse, a game of flirtation that he had absolutely no intention of following through with.

It wasn't hard to remember why he'd left in the first place.

[assassinwithahairpin]

For the most part, Billy was left to his own devices. The party goers seemed to avoid him, treat him more like decoration than another guest, and Billy was fine with that. It left him to mill about and watch people, which he preferred. At least no one was asking him to refresh their drinks.

When Goodnight finally got free of the attention that was being turned on him, Billy tracked him down shortly. He came from the front, touched his elbow gently.

"Time for a break?"

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight's relief showed on his face the moment Billy appeared. "Yes," he breathed. "You have any cigarettes on you?" He didn't even care if they were plain tobacco but going out back to smoke one in the chill air with Billy sounded infinitely more appealing than standing here one moment longer.

[assassinwithahairpin]

"In my room," Billy said softly. He was not adverse to going up to get them, especially if Goodnight was going to accompany him. It probably wasn't the best idea, or the safest, to wander off to a bedroom together. But it would only be for a moment or two. Billy would try and insist--and knew, intrinsically, that he would fail.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight nodded, though for a moment he debated which was the better idea: going with Billy to get them or waiting for him outside. He settled on a compromise, lightly tugging Billy towards the stairs. He waited on the landing, though, supposing if he let himself be alone with Billy then they might not make a proper reappearance. Or worse, someone would come looking for him.

[assassinwithahairpin]

While Goodnight waited on the landing, Billy went up to the room, rummaging through his things for a moment until he found his cigarette case and matches case. He came back down, adjusting his tie a little as he went, because he felt a bit like it was choking him for the moment.

On the landing, he paused and brushed his fingers against against Goodnight's.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight soaked in that touch, brief though it was, like a parched man. "Let's slip out back," he said quietly, fingers hooking against Billy's for just a moment, tugging, before he headed down the hall. The further back they went in the house, the quieter it got. The night was balmy compared to some of the winters they'd endured, but it felt fresh after the heat and press of people inside. He let out a shaky breath.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy let Goodnight lead. It wasn't hard to do, and he enjoyed the view as well. Goodnight was not quite as narrow at the apex of his waist as Billy was, but that spoke more to consistent good food than anything about how they were practically composed. His body was all fine slants where Billy's remained sharp edges.

Outside, Billy slipped two cigarettes into his mouth and lit them both at once. He took a long drag, making sure the cigarettes were lit, before he handed one over to Goodnight.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

He accepted the cigarette and took a deep inhale. He sigh came out shaky and he leaned back against the house.

"I have spent most of the night entertaining a reputation I don't want," Goodnight breathed. "Fame is a sarcophagus. One I would rather not be buried in, and yet it has its uses."

[assassinwithahairpin]

"You've been doing better than you think," Billy said, leaning against the porch railing. He smoked at his own cigarette, watching Goodnight's posture, smiling slowly. The alcohol he'd had so far was still buzzing in him, and Goodnight's fine face and good tailoring was as well.

Softly, he murmured, "I wish I could dance with you tonight."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"Doing well and being happy are two entirely different things," he sighed, shaking his head. But then Billy spoke again and something in him caught; he smiled, looking at him. My, but he looked fine all cleaned up and well-tailored. Goodnight allowed himself a moment to appreciate just how good Billy Rocks looked.

"I only wanted you," he admitted, feeling almost shy from the confession. He looked down, his smile lingering. "I would love to dance with you, mon cher."

[assassinwithahairpin]

"I know," Billy said, nodding, because especially for Goodnight those could be wildly different things. But doing well was something that could be achievable in this moment; as much as Billy would hope for happiness, for calm, he would settle for wellness.

He reached out and tangled their fingers briefly. "We'll find time. A song or two."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight held onto Billy's fingers, perhaps longer than he should have. He had been aching for this sort of contact all night, unmoved by any other touch. He looked at Billy's face, drank in his relaxed countenance.

"I could think of no better way to pass the time." He wondered if they could get away with it; maybe in one of the rooms that had been blocked off from the party, where they could still hear the music but might be safe from prying eyes; though he wondered if a place like that actually existed in this house.

[assassinwithahairpin]

They appeared to be of one mind. Billy pulled his fingers back, only because it made smoking a touch easier, but he let his eyes linger heavily on Goodnight, taking him in in that suit, admiring the cut of his body, knowing how he was built under layers of cotton and wool and silk.

When they finished their cigarettes, Billy stepped in almost dangerously close.

"Let's find somewhere to dance."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Billy was gloriously close, wonderfully so, and Goodnight wanted to lose himself in that moment. He dared to drift closer, his smile lingering. "Alright then." He took one last drag before tossing his spent cigarette down, smudging out the stub that was left. He caught the front of Billy's jacket and tugged him toward the house.

It was no trouble to find a room sectioned off, hidden by heavy curtains to keep guests from wandering.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Even with the heavy curtain and the walls, the music was still audible. Billy took in the quiet, dim atmosphere, and let his fingers glide through the air for a moment. He smiled to himself, and then at Goodnight, and then took up his hands so that he could lead.

He was still not very good, and being a little drunk did not help. But he could do it. The only problem was, the only dance he knew was a waltz, and the music that was playing was not quite right for that. He did it anyway, holding Goodnight close and smiling at him.