Fic for penguingal Part 2
Recipient: penguingal
Author: TBA
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Title: Second Nature (Part 2)
Pairing: Don/Ian/Billy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Threesome, light bondage
Summary: A cabin, a secret, a past remembered, a future offered
Author's Note: Thanks to my beta
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, Man Hunt
*
Dinner, once consumed - and thoroughly enjoyed - had transitioned into an evening of drinking quite different from their beer guzzling afternoon.
Ian brought out some 12 year old single malt scotch and each man had stuck with their original glass, making the scant two ounces last.
Apparently, Don surmised, evening was the part of the retreat where they talked about what was going on with work - the cases that haunted them.
Ian had gone first, as host, and Don and Billy had listened attentively, offering their silent support - the best gift they could offer. Don privately wondered how bad other weekends had gone. Ian's last kill hadn't been that unusual, even by his own standards, but it obviously still weighed on him based on his scotch fueled confession.
A pregnant pause filled the air with companionable silence until Billy spoke up, claiming his turn.
"There was this woman - a waitress in a mom and pop diner, in Tehachapi. My fugitive spotted some rookie undercover cops closing in even though I'd told them to stay back. So he grabbed her to use as a shield, held a gun to her head." The few seconds he halted were enough to tell Don the part coming next was what bothered him most. "I'm trying to diffuse the situation. The man's yelling, the woman's crying and the idiot cops are threatening to shoot..." Don watched as Billy's free hand tightened into a fist and his other gripped the glass tumbler in his hand so tightly he feared it would shatter. "And then I hear this kid's voice. This little boy - couldn't have been more than like five years old - runs out from the back room, calling for his mother. Heads right for her, stupid kid."
"Crap," Ian muttered under his breath, clearly seeing where the story was going.
"Yeah... It all went down so fast... The perp aims his gun at the kid and one of the cops pops him in the head. The mom gets splattered with brains and blood and the kid has to see a man get his head blown off right in front of him." He slammed down the last of his scotch and put the glass down on the coffee table with a thunk. "Damn newbie cops. Thanks to them that kid's fucked for life and the mom's screwed too."
Another quiet moment passed where neither Ian nor Don acknowledged that Billy needed the time to compose himself before they continued.
"What about you?" Billy finally asked Don, his cue that it was all right to move on. "Bad cases galore, but what's the worst?"
Don didn't even have to think. He'd spent the last three days trying to talk Charlie out of the garage for the one he had in mind. It was always worse when it was kids.
"Jacomuzzi. He made bail and disappeared."
Both Ian and Billy blinked at him.
"No way he got bail!" Billy exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. "Four kids they nailed him on! Four!"
"Who fucked up?" Ian asked. "Someone had to if he got out of jail - ever."
"Depends who you ask," Don said, feeling suddenly weary at having to tell the tale again, at having the weight of guilt and failure back on his shoulders. "The AUSA assigned to the case - some new guy imported from San Diego - blames everybody but their own department." Don turned the glass of scotch in his hands around and around, his gaze disappearing into the amber liquid. "All I can think about is wherever he is, he's scouting fresh victims already. I'm sure of it." He let out a long breath, fighting down the tightness in his chest and trying to shunt away the images of the crime scene photos vying for images of new mangled children unknown somewhere far away.
"He wins."
Don looked up to find Ian gesturing to him.
"Agreed." Billy nodded.
"Uh, guys? To me it sounds like I had the shittiest week."
"That's how you win," Ian explained. "Whoever needs a break the most gets the most attention." He glanced over at Billy, sharing a look of understanding. "Plus, since you're a new guest to our little escape from reality weekend, you deserve a proper and mind-emptying initiation."
He finished off his glass and rose, leaving it on the coffee table.
"Should we clean up now or later?" Don asked.
"Screw the dishes," Ian said. "This isn't camping. It's not like there are bears around. They can wait until morning." He headed over to the large quilt covered bed, beckoning to Don to follow. "Come on. I still owe you a massage."
Don cast one final look into his glass and then drank the last of the scotch in it.
"Be right there..."
*
Ian, to Don's surprise, was the most amazing masseur he'd ever encountered and in his athletic career he'd worked with dozens upon dozens.
The lethal hands had talents far beyond sniping and it took little time before Don was melting into the mattress as Ian worked him from neck to ankles and out to his hands as well, evaporating the tension wherever he found it.
"Man, you are in the wrong line of work," Don muttered into the pillow. "You should do this for a living."
"Tell me about it," Billy said, chuckling from where he sat keeping them company, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Sorry," Ian told him. "Shooting people pays better."
"That's wrong on so many levels," Billy complained.
"True, but that doesn't change anything." Ian smacked Don lightly on the ass. "Done with this side. Turn over."
"Can't," Don joshed, acting sleepy. "You turned me into a sloth. A very sleepy sloth."
"No sleeping yet." Ian gave him a slightly harder smack on the ass. "Billy give me a hand."
Don went ahead and rolled over and Billy gave the impression of helping Ian reposition him.
"Got two of them," he said after. "Feel free to put me to work."
"Well, you are the one who knows Don best..." Don opened his eyes enough to catch Ian's smirk and Billy's answering grin.
"Why am I suddenly worried?" he asked, eyeing them both.
"Eyes shut!" Ian admonished without any animosity behind it. "You're supposed to be relaxing, remember?"
"Yes, sir!" Don fake saluted before settling back down again. He closed his eyes and felt Ian's hands return to his skin, working his arms and chest. A second set - Billy's - touched him lighter, less of a massage and more of a caress. Those fingers skated over the sensitive spots near his hipbones; Billy did indeed know what Don liked.
Don should have known what was coming, but he felt so good he found his mind floating away, just enjoying his body's reaction to their efforts. Still, his body jumped just a little when Billy's hand skimmed over to brush against the base of his cock, short fingernails scratching lightly through the coarse hair there - something else Don had forgotten he liked in the time since he'd last been with Billy.
He waited for some comment, but nothing came. It seemed the time for joking was over and they really were serious about helping him let go and forget.
As Billy's hand wrapped around his shaft he let out another long breath, willing the last of the tension to leave his body.
Ian's attentions moved down to his legs, massaging his thighs as Billy lazily jacked him off. The massage oil Ian used had only a slight natural fragrance to it, but Don found it oddly entrancing, inhaling it and letting it help soothe him further.
He began to feel like he could float away, but something inside him bound him, kept him in the present more than he wanted.
"Sometimes it's hard to let go." Ian's voice surrounded him, low and warm. "We know."
"This might help."
Don cracked an eye to see Billy pulling the sash from his robe off. He held it up as if in question. Don hesitated a moment, but saw the point. He was always in such control. The best way to let go was to let go of that control.
He nodded, closing his eyes again.
"Do it. Do whatever you think will work."
With that he surrendered, waiting to see what they would do, trusting that he was safe in their hands.
As Billy bound his hands with the soft sash to the headboard, Ian's hands sped up, crossing his body in a way that was more energizing than calming now. After a few minutes his skin was humming with sensation, making him focus on feeling rather than thinking.
Strong hands moved him to lay on his side and he went willingly, almost breathless with anticipation once all hands were off him and he was left waiting.
The first sensation he experienced knocked the wind from him: Billy's mouth enveloping his cock.
He'd forgotten how much he missed this, missed a man's understanding of this intimate act. No one but Billy had ever gotten it just right - the perfect amount of force, the right speed...
And then Ian's long oiled finger was slipping inside of him, probing, grazing that spot inside that set his body sparking every time.
He couldn't help but tug on his bonds, the knowledge he couldn't reach out to stop them helping him along.
His body relaxed a little when Ian withdrew, but the pleasurable tension returned when he felt Ian's naked body pressed against his back, his strong hand reaching around to teasingly thread fingers around the base of his cock as Billy laved the head with his tongue.
"You sure you want this?" Ian purred low in his ear, all danger and heat and want and Don couldn't say no even if his body wasn't screaming with need. On some level this was what he'd expected Ian to do for him and he was doing it exceptionally well.
"Yes," he answered breathlessly. "All of it. Now."
He felt Ian's throaty chuckle resonate from Ian's chest to his back, the heat of his breath on the back of his neck giving Don a little rush.
"Greedy are we? Just wait until it's your turn to be on the other side."
And with that Ian shifted position and started rubbing the slicked head of his cock against Don's primed entrance.
Trying not to stiffen, Don was surprised when Ian didn't just shove his way in all at once. He taunted him by pressing in just the head repeatedly, the same way Billy was measuring his efforts to not let Don come too soon.
Rather than let impatience ruin his encounter, Don welcomed the slow pace, letting himself relish each sensation. The two of them worked in tune so well, Don felt like Ian was the conductor leading them into a building crescendo with each inch he sank deeper into Don's welcoming body.
Blind, Don's senses tuned into the environment around him: the scent of Billy's aftershave - the kind he'd always worn, the soft sounds of sex mixed with the rustle of wind in the trees just outside the window, the difference in pressure between Ian's firm grip and Billy's lighter touch, the occasional brush of Billy's bristly short hair against his heated skin...
It filled his mind, all of it, and left him in a swirl of sensual pleasure that swallowed him up like an eddy, drowning him in mindless bliss. If he was to forget something he wasn't sure what it was and realized he shouldn't even try to remember. A tug of his tied hands reminded him to let it go and to stop even trying to categorize the moment. 'Just feel' became his internal mantra until even words fell away into the impending nothingness of beautiful oblivion.
As they built into a gentle seesawing motion, Don started to falter, caught between the growing forcefulness of Ian's thrusts and Billy taking him ever deeper, sucking less carefully - hands roaming over his thighs and hips and occasionally taking a detour up to rub a hardened nub of a nipple with a moistened fingertip.
At some unnoticed signal, they both sped up their efforts greatly, catching Don by surprise.
A helpless little cry escaped him and he strained at his bonds as every cell of his being vibrated with the ricochet of ecstasy that flooded him each time Ian nailed his prostate.
Billy swallowed him down all the way, pinching a nipple hard as he did, and Don was lost: body going taut with a primal shout that rang out in the quiet room until drained, he collapsed back to the bed, all his energy dissipated at once.
His heart kept on pounding, taking its time to slow as Ian carefully withdrew and Billy pressed a kiss to his hipbone before moving up to mirror Ian laying next to him on the other side.
The room held the sound of all of their breathing, all at different rates, but somehow all making a rhythm of its own.
Eventually Billy undid the sash and let Don free as Ian pulled the covers up over all of them.
"You better not have stretched it out too much," Billy mock grumbled.
"Why?" Don managed a weak smile, still recovering. "You getting so short in your old age you're worried about it dragging on the floor?"
"Hey, watch what you say about old age," Ian joshed. "I've got both of you beat."
"Yeah, but you've got something else that would drag on the floor if you got shorter," Billy tossed back.
"Jealous?" Ian taunted.
"Only if it's not my turn next," Billy countered gleefully.
Don couldn't help but laugh, the sound floating up out of him - so light and free he almost didn't recognize his own voice.
"Don't worry," Ian drawled. "Don gets put to work tomorrow."
"I have to earn my keep, I suppose," Don said. He let it come out as a bit of a joke, but he meant it. He was prepared to return the favor, especially now that he'd seen how good a job they'd done at helping him get out of his head for a while - something he had a lot of trouble doing on his own at home.
"Well... That is, if you want to stay..." There was a hint of hesitation in Ian's voice that Don had never heard before and it surprised him until he put it in context. What he was asking? It wasn't something one got asked everyday. "I mean, keep coming up here," he explained.
After a second, Don shifted backwards so his body would be up against Ian's chest again and then put an arm around Billy to draw him back against him, the three of them comfortably melded into each other. He did it so naturally, as if he'd done it before, as if it were second nature to him.
"I'm staying."
*
The next morning Don woke to a warm yet empty bed, but was welcomed by the smells of coffee and pancakes coming from across the room.
"Hope you like coffee that isn't battery acid," Billy said once he saw Don was sitting up. He lifted a coffee mug in invitation. "Or did the Bureau spoil you?"
"Ha! No," Don said, pulling his robe on. Billy had his on, but Ian just had a pair of black jeans on and no shirt. His tawny chest brought back memories of the night before and Don realized they had most of the day to work on Ian and on Billy. What they had done for him, he now owed them in return - a thought that didn't trouble him in the least.
"Hope you like blueberry pancakes," Ian said, setting out plates. "They grow wild down the hill so I picked some for breakfast."
"Good, because I'm definitely hungry." He took a place next to Billy at the table and teasingly snuck his hand beneath his ex-partner's robe, running it suggestively up his thigh.
"Ian!" Billy called over to the stove where Ian was cooking. "I am so going first today!"
"Food first," Ian admonished playfully. "Fucking brains out comes later."
He put pancakes on both their plates then his own as Billy filled the mug at Don's place setting with coffee.
"How did you sleep?" Ian asked as he sat down.
"Honestly? Best sleep in years." Until he said it, Don hadn't quite realized how true that was. And good sleep was rare in his line of work.
"So now you get it." Ian took a bite of pancakes, looking thoughtful. "You know, we don't tell anyone about all this."
"I understand," Don said solemnly. "Your secret is safe with me."
"Our secret," Billy corrected him. "You're one of us now."
A feeling of camaraderie gave Don a flush of warmth he felt deep inside. He'd missed having someone this close, missed the support that came from someone who understood so clearly what he was going through in his life. He truly did belong here, with them.
"Oh, I think he's been one of us for a while now," Ian said, eyes meeting Don's with a show of approval he hadn't realized he'd wanted or needed. "We've just made it official."
Author: TBA
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Title: Second Nature (Part 2)
Pairing: Don/Ian/Billy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Threesome, light bondage
Summary: A cabin, a secret, a past remembered, a future offered
Author's Note: Thanks to my beta
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, Man Hunt
*
Dinner, once consumed - and thoroughly enjoyed - had transitioned into an evening of drinking quite different from their beer guzzling afternoon.
Ian brought out some 12 year old single malt scotch and each man had stuck with their original glass, making the scant two ounces last.
Apparently, Don surmised, evening was the part of the retreat where they talked about what was going on with work - the cases that haunted them.
Ian had gone first, as host, and Don and Billy had listened attentively, offering their silent support - the best gift they could offer. Don privately wondered how bad other weekends had gone. Ian's last kill hadn't been that unusual, even by his own standards, but it obviously still weighed on him based on his scotch fueled confession.
A pregnant pause filled the air with companionable silence until Billy spoke up, claiming his turn.
"There was this woman - a waitress in a mom and pop diner, in Tehachapi. My fugitive spotted some rookie undercover cops closing in even though I'd told them to stay back. So he grabbed her to use as a shield, held a gun to her head." The few seconds he halted were enough to tell Don the part coming next was what bothered him most. "I'm trying to diffuse the situation. The man's yelling, the woman's crying and the idiot cops are threatening to shoot..." Don watched as Billy's free hand tightened into a fist and his other gripped the glass tumbler in his hand so tightly he feared it would shatter. "And then I hear this kid's voice. This little boy - couldn't have been more than like five years old - runs out from the back room, calling for his mother. Heads right for her, stupid kid."
"Crap," Ian muttered under his breath, clearly seeing where the story was going.
"Yeah... It all went down so fast... The perp aims his gun at the kid and one of the cops pops him in the head. The mom gets splattered with brains and blood and the kid has to see a man get his head blown off right in front of him." He slammed down the last of his scotch and put the glass down on the coffee table with a thunk. "Damn newbie cops. Thanks to them that kid's fucked for life and the mom's screwed too."
Another quiet moment passed where neither Ian nor Don acknowledged that Billy needed the time to compose himself before they continued.
"What about you?" Billy finally asked Don, his cue that it was all right to move on. "Bad cases galore, but what's the worst?"
Don didn't even have to think. He'd spent the last three days trying to talk Charlie out of the garage for the one he had in mind. It was always worse when it was kids.
"Jacomuzzi. He made bail and disappeared."
Both Ian and Billy blinked at him.
"No way he got bail!" Billy exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. "Four kids they nailed him on! Four!"
"Who fucked up?" Ian asked. "Someone had to if he got out of jail - ever."
"Depends who you ask," Don said, feeling suddenly weary at having to tell the tale again, at having the weight of guilt and failure back on his shoulders. "The AUSA assigned to the case - some new guy imported from San Diego - blames everybody but their own department." Don turned the glass of scotch in his hands around and around, his gaze disappearing into the amber liquid. "All I can think about is wherever he is, he's scouting fresh victims already. I'm sure of it." He let out a long breath, fighting down the tightness in his chest and trying to shunt away the images of the crime scene photos vying for images of new mangled children unknown somewhere far away.
"He wins."
Don looked up to find Ian gesturing to him.
"Agreed." Billy nodded.
"Uh, guys? To me it sounds like I had the shittiest week."
"That's how you win," Ian explained. "Whoever needs a break the most gets the most attention." He glanced over at Billy, sharing a look of understanding. "Plus, since you're a new guest to our little escape from reality weekend, you deserve a proper and mind-emptying initiation."
He finished off his glass and rose, leaving it on the coffee table.
"Should we clean up now or later?" Don asked.
"Screw the dishes," Ian said. "This isn't camping. It's not like there are bears around. They can wait until morning." He headed over to the large quilt covered bed, beckoning to Don to follow. "Come on. I still owe you a massage."
Don cast one final look into his glass and then drank the last of the scotch in it.
"Be right there..."
*
Ian, to Don's surprise, was the most amazing masseur he'd ever encountered and in his athletic career he'd worked with dozens upon dozens.
The lethal hands had talents far beyond sniping and it took little time before Don was melting into the mattress as Ian worked him from neck to ankles and out to his hands as well, evaporating the tension wherever he found it.
"Man, you are in the wrong line of work," Don muttered into the pillow. "You should do this for a living."
"Tell me about it," Billy said, chuckling from where he sat keeping them company, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Sorry," Ian told him. "Shooting people pays better."
"That's wrong on so many levels," Billy complained.
"True, but that doesn't change anything." Ian smacked Don lightly on the ass. "Done with this side. Turn over."
"Can't," Don joshed, acting sleepy. "You turned me into a sloth. A very sleepy sloth."
"No sleeping yet." Ian gave him a slightly harder smack on the ass. "Billy give me a hand."
Don went ahead and rolled over and Billy gave the impression of helping Ian reposition him.
"Got two of them," he said after. "Feel free to put me to work."
"Well, you are the one who knows Don best..." Don opened his eyes enough to catch Ian's smirk and Billy's answering grin.
"Why am I suddenly worried?" he asked, eyeing them both.
"Eyes shut!" Ian admonished without any animosity behind it. "You're supposed to be relaxing, remember?"
"Yes, sir!" Don fake saluted before settling back down again. He closed his eyes and felt Ian's hands return to his skin, working his arms and chest. A second set - Billy's - touched him lighter, less of a massage and more of a caress. Those fingers skated over the sensitive spots near his hipbones; Billy did indeed know what Don liked.
Don should have known what was coming, but he felt so good he found his mind floating away, just enjoying his body's reaction to their efforts. Still, his body jumped just a little when Billy's hand skimmed over to brush against the base of his cock, short fingernails scratching lightly through the coarse hair there - something else Don had forgotten he liked in the time since he'd last been with Billy.
He waited for some comment, but nothing came. It seemed the time for joking was over and they really were serious about helping him let go and forget.
As Billy's hand wrapped around his shaft he let out another long breath, willing the last of the tension to leave his body.
Ian's attentions moved down to his legs, massaging his thighs as Billy lazily jacked him off. The massage oil Ian used had only a slight natural fragrance to it, but Don found it oddly entrancing, inhaling it and letting it help soothe him further.
He began to feel like he could float away, but something inside him bound him, kept him in the present more than he wanted.
"Sometimes it's hard to let go." Ian's voice surrounded him, low and warm. "We know."
"This might help."
Don cracked an eye to see Billy pulling the sash from his robe off. He held it up as if in question. Don hesitated a moment, but saw the point. He was always in such control. The best way to let go was to let go of that control.
He nodded, closing his eyes again.
"Do it. Do whatever you think will work."
With that he surrendered, waiting to see what they would do, trusting that he was safe in their hands.
As Billy bound his hands with the soft sash to the headboard, Ian's hands sped up, crossing his body in a way that was more energizing than calming now. After a few minutes his skin was humming with sensation, making him focus on feeling rather than thinking.
Strong hands moved him to lay on his side and he went willingly, almost breathless with anticipation once all hands were off him and he was left waiting.
The first sensation he experienced knocked the wind from him: Billy's mouth enveloping his cock.
He'd forgotten how much he missed this, missed a man's understanding of this intimate act. No one but Billy had ever gotten it just right - the perfect amount of force, the right speed...
And then Ian's long oiled finger was slipping inside of him, probing, grazing that spot inside that set his body sparking every time.
He couldn't help but tug on his bonds, the knowledge he couldn't reach out to stop them helping him along.
His body relaxed a little when Ian withdrew, but the pleasurable tension returned when he felt Ian's naked body pressed against his back, his strong hand reaching around to teasingly thread fingers around the base of his cock as Billy laved the head with his tongue.
"You sure you want this?" Ian purred low in his ear, all danger and heat and want and Don couldn't say no even if his body wasn't screaming with need. On some level this was what he'd expected Ian to do for him and he was doing it exceptionally well.
"Yes," he answered breathlessly. "All of it. Now."
He felt Ian's throaty chuckle resonate from Ian's chest to his back, the heat of his breath on the back of his neck giving Don a little rush.
"Greedy are we? Just wait until it's your turn to be on the other side."
And with that Ian shifted position and started rubbing the slicked head of his cock against Don's primed entrance.
Trying not to stiffen, Don was surprised when Ian didn't just shove his way in all at once. He taunted him by pressing in just the head repeatedly, the same way Billy was measuring his efforts to not let Don come too soon.
Rather than let impatience ruin his encounter, Don welcomed the slow pace, letting himself relish each sensation. The two of them worked in tune so well, Don felt like Ian was the conductor leading them into a building crescendo with each inch he sank deeper into Don's welcoming body.
Blind, Don's senses tuned into the environment around him: the scent of Billy's aftershave - the kind he'd always worn, the soft sounds of sex mixed with the rustle of wind in the trees just outside the window, the difference in pressure between Ian's firm grip and Billy's lighter touch, the occasional brush of Billy's bristly short hair against his heated skin...
It filled his mind, all of it, and left him in a swirl of sensual pleasure that swallowed him up like an eddy, drowning him in mindless bliss. If he was to forget something he wasn't sure what it was and realized he shouldn't even try to remember. A tug of his tied hands reminded him to let it go and to stop even trying to categorize the moment. 'Just feel' became his internal mantra until even words fell away into the impending nothingness of beautiful oblivion.
As they built into a gentle seesawing motion, Don started to falter, caught between the growing forcefulness of Ian's thrusts and Billy taking him ever deeper, sucking less carefully - hands roaming over his thighs and hips and occasionally taking a detour up to rub a hardened nub of a nipple with a moistened fingertip.
At some unnoticed signal, they both sped up their efforts greatly, catching Don by surprise.
A helpless little cry escaped him and he strained at his bonds as every cell of his being vibrated with the ricochet of ecstasy that flooded him each time Ian nailed his prostate.
Billy swallowed him down all the way, pinching a nipple hard as he did, and Don was lost: body going taut with a primal shout that rang out in the quiet room until drained, he collapsed back to the bed, all his energy dissipated at once.
His heart kept on pounding, taking its time to slow as Ian carefully withdrew and Billy pressed a kiss to his hipbone before moving up to mirror Ian laying next to him on the other side.
The room held the sound of all of their breathing, all at different rates, but somehow all making a rhythm of its own.
Eventually Billy undid the sash and let Don free as Ian pulled the covers up over all of them.
"You better not have stretched it out too much," Billy mock grumbled.
"Why?" Don managed a weak smile, still recovering. "You getting so short in your old age you're worried about it dragging on the floor?"
"Hey, watch what you say about old age," Ian joshed. "I've got both of you beat."
"Yeah, but you've got something else that would drag on the floor if you got shorter," Billy tossed back.
"Jealous?" Ian taunted.
"Only if it's not my turn next," Billy countered gleefully.
Don couldn't help but laugh, the sound floating up out of him - so light and free he almost didn't recognize his own voice.
"Don't worry," Ian drawled. "Don gets put to work tomorrow."
"I have to earn my keep, I suppose," Don said. He let it come out as a bit of a joke, but he meant it. He was prepared to return the favor, especially now that he'd seen how good a job they'd done at helping him get out of his head for a while - something he had a lot of trouble doing on his own at home.
"Well... That is, if you want to stay..." There was a hint of hesitation in Ian's voice that Don had never heard before and it surprised him until he put it in context. What he was asking? It wasn't something one got asked everyday. "I mean, keep coming up here," he explained.
After a second, Don shifted backwards so his body would be up against Ian's chest again and then put an arm around Billy to draw him back against him, the three of them comfortably melded into each other. He did it so naturally, as if he'd done it before, as if it were second nature to him.
"I'm staying."
*
The next morning Don woke to a warm yet empty bed, but was welcomed by the smells of coffee and pancakes coming from across the room.
"Hope you like coffee that isn't battery acid," Billy said once he saw Don was sitting up. He lifted a coffee mug in invitation. "Or did the Bureau spoil you?"
"Ha! No," Don said, pulling his robe on. Billy had his on, but Ian just had a pair of black jeans on and no shirt. His tawny chest brought back memories of the night before and Don realized they had most of the day to work on Ian and on Billy. What they had done for him, he now owed them in return - a thought that didn't trouble him in the least.
"Hope you like blueberry pancakes," Ian said, setting out plates. "They grow wild down the hill so I picked some for breakfast."
"Good, because I'm definitely hungry." He took a place next to Billy at the table and teasingly snuck his hand beneath his ex-partner's robe, running it suggestively up his thigh.
"Ian!" Billy called over to the stove where Ian was cooking. "I am so going first today!"
"Food first," Ian admonished playfully. "Fucking brains out comes later."
He put pancakes on both their plates then his own as Billy filled the mug at Don's place setting with coffee.
"How did you sleep?" Ian asked as he sat down.
"Honestly? Best sleep in years." Until he said it, Don hadn't quite realized how true that was. And good sleep was rare in his line of work.
"So now you get it." Ian took a bite of pancakes, looking thoughtful. "You know, we don't tell anyone about all this."
"I understand," Don said solemnly. "Your secret is safe with me."
"Our secret," Billy corrected him. "You're one of us now."
A feeling of camaraderie gave Don a flush of warmth he felt deep inside. He'd missed having someone this close, missed the support that came from someone who understood so clearly what he was going through in his life. He truly did belong here, with them.
"Oh, I think he's been one of us for a while now," Ian said, eyes meeting Don's with a show of approval he hadn't realized he'd wanted or needed. "We've just made it official."