New Year's Fic for Sororcula
Recipient: sororcula
Author: littlemimm
Title: Back In The Day
Pairing: Don Eppes/Billy Cooper
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers for 1x13 (Manhunt)
Summary: Takes place when Don and Cooper were a team during those "FBI's Fugitive Recovery Division" days in Phoenix.
It was the fourth night they were spending in the car, and as comfortable as the seats had been in the beginning, Don would have given just about anything to change them to a soft sofa. Or, what he craved even more, a bed covered with clean, fluffy pillows and equally smooth blankets. Something he could bury himself in and forget this tiring mission.
He loved his job, but he really didn't want to be here now.
Looking out through the window at the yard he and Billy were watching, he saw a broken, blue tricycle. Oddly, it reminded him of Charlie, and he realized something.
"When was the last time you saw your family?" he asked Billy.
Billy made a sound of deep, sudden inhalation, and Don turned to look at him. He was rubbing his eyes with the sides of his hands.
"You're not supposed to sleep when you're on duty," Don said, then softened the possibly scolding comment with the beginnings of a smile.
"Wasn't sleeping, just resting my eyes."
Now Billy turned to look at Don, mild bewilderment in his gaze. His eyes looked tired, a little on the reddish side, and Don wished they both were in the soft bed he had imagined a moment earlier.
"Did you say something?" Billy said.
"When did you last see your folks?" Don asked, feeling a little stupid for having to repeat such a pointless question. "I mean, we're up during nights and sleep during days, there's no time to actually go home. I love the job but I hate what it's doing to my life."
Billy didn't reply, only rested his head against the back of the seat.
"What are you going to do about it?" he then asked, apparently avoiding talking about his own situation.
"I've been talking with Dad. He's told me about Mom, and things aren't looking too good right now. I should be there, but my job..." The last words were more a silent whisper than anything else. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Billy didn't rush it, didn't urge him to continue. He just looked through the window on his side, then faced Don.
"Want me to get some coffee?"
Don let out a long sigh, leaning his head against the headrest. He closed his eyes and gave a small nod. Quietly, Billy opened the door and stepped out, shutting the door behind him. After a while, Don turned to look after him, seeing his distancing back as he turned around a corner. With Billy gone, everything was silent, almost too silent. Don turned to look at the building in front of him, keeping an eye on the front yard in case their man would turn out while Billy was gone.
For a long time, nothing happened. Every now and then Don turned in Billy's direction, but there was no one there. Don made sure his gun was in its place. Better alone and prepared than with a teammate and unarmed. He let his hand rest on the gun, feeling its cool and solid surface against his fingertips.
There was movement in one of the bushes on the front yard, and Don automatically raised his gun with one hand while putting his other hand on the door handle. Just as he was about to open the door to step out of the car and take a better look at the unknown intruder, he noticed movement in the corner of his eye and he turned quickly to his right, holding his gun with both hands, pointing it towards whoever was about to attack him.
It was Billy, holding a paper bag and a styrofoam cup in one hand and another cup in the other. As he walked closer, he seemed to notice what Don was doing, because he stopped for a moment, then continued on his way towards the car.
Don leaned over the other seat to open the door and Billy came in, putting the cups and the bag on the dashboard.
"Jesus, Don. Are you sure you don't need proper sleep instead of caffeine?" Billy asked, and Don remembered his original reason for taking the gun out. He looked at the leaves that had been moving only a moment earlier, and now he saw what had caused it. A raccoon ran across the yard and vanished into another shrubbery. Billy's gaze followed Don's and he soon realized what was going on.
"Not the one we want," he said, sounding amused. "Here, take this."
Billy offered Don the other cup and slipped his hand in the bag to pick up a glazed donut.
"Put that back," he said, nodding towards the gun Don was still holding in his hand, and once Don did as he was told, Billy offered him the donut. "Now, eat. Let me keep guard."
"Thanks," was the only thing Don got out before he dug his teeth into the soft donut and tasted the sweetness of the sugar. He took a sip from the cup and the sweetness turned into warmth, and he let out a small sound of pleasure as he sank in his seat.
"Better?" Billy asked, and Don merely nodded with his eyes closed.
There was a moment of silence in the car as the two of them ate and drank, and it was broken when Billy crumpled the paper bag and threw it in the backseat.
"Want to talk about it?" he then asked and for a while Don didn't understand that Billy was talking to him. Who else he could be talking to, Don didn't know. The case was getting to him and he found himself hating it. To his shock, he realized it wasn't the first time. He had been feeling that way for a long time now, and if in the beginning he had believed that it would go away, he was now beginning to understand that it wasn't going to go away. His reluctance towards his current career would only grow stronger.
"About what?" he asked, pushing the work frustration to the back of his mind.
"Your mother. Work. Anything, really."
"There's not much to tell. She's sick, it looks bad, and Dad's pissed off about me being here instead of home."
Billy's reply was silence and a concerned look, and they both drank their coffees without another word spoken between them for quite a while.
"Any idea what you'll do?" Billy finally said, his voice low.
"The way I see it, I have two choices. Either I get transferred somewhere closer to L.A. or I bury myself into work."
Billy said nothing. They both looked at the dark front yard and noticed the familiar raccoon, or maybe it was another one, appearing out of the bushes. After that, everything fell silent again. Don drank the rest of his coffee and held onto the cup on his knee, tapping its side with his fingers. He didn't know what to say, and it seemed like Billy didn't, either.
When the morning came, the sun rose, but neither of them saw it because it was still too cloudy. After their report -- a silent night, nothing suspicious -- and after the other team had arrived to take their place, they headed for the motel to get some sleep.
* * *
Billy's chest was glistening, covered in droplets of water sliding down along his skin. He ruffled his damp hair with his hands, walking lazily towards Don.
"The water's damn cold. Don't freeze your balls off," he said, his hand touching Don's bare shoulder for a brief moment, the fingers pressing the skin lightly. The touch was cold against Don's still sleep-warm skin, causing the hair in the back of Don's neck to stand on end. A rush both cold and hot travelled through his body, making him turn his eyes momentarily away from Billy who was wearing only a small towel around his waist.
When Don looked at him again, Billy was already standing next to the sofa; the towel was hanging from the armrest. He was naked, his lower back pale, his shoulders a shade darker, more tanned and freckled. Don took all this in as he grabbed his towel and a clean pair of underwear and walked towards the bathroom.
As Don was pulling the door close, he glanced over his shoulder, wanting to see Billy. For some reason Billy had turned halfway around as well and looked back at Don. Neither one of them said anything, only looked at each other for a moment, and then Don stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. His hand was already moving towards the lock, but then he decided against it. He didn't stop to think about the reason behind it.
The water was as cold as Billy had said it would be, and Don washed his hair quickly, leaning towards the stream to wash the foam off. He heard Billy's voice from the room, as if he were talking to someone, but he couldn't make out the words through the water. He turned his head and got some of the soap in his eyes. Shutting them tight, he blindly reached for the tap to get water so he could rinse off the soap.
He closed the water, took his towel and dried his hair and himself before wrapping the towel around his waist. He stood there, looking at himself from the mirror above the sink. He noticed he looked tired, and he knew that if the hunt lasted for a few days longer, he would eventually get an almost haunted look in his eyes. The stress caused by the job and the lack of sleep did that to him, and all his friends who saw him during the hunt wondered why he didn't just give up his job and change into something lighter. He always insisted that it was the only job he wanted to do and he was ready to suffer for it. Sometimes he wondered if he was just lying to himself.
His eyes focused on his unshaven chin and he looked down at the pale, matte sink and the few small dark bottles there, but there was no razor there. He hadn't used one in two days because he didn't see the point if all he did was sit around in a car in the middle of darkness with only Billy as his company. Nobody would care.
As he was contemplating on his looks, he glanced at the door that remained shut. He thought about Billy, unclothed and damp-haired, knowing he shouldn't be thinking about it but feeling unable to stop himself. He listened to the sounds coming from outside, but everything was silent. Billy wasn't talking anymore. Giving himself one last look, Don put on a clean pair of dark blue boxers and opened the door. Pulling a white t-shirt on he looked around the room. Beige walls, a brown sofa and a wide bed with a beige bedspread dominated the place, but other than those the room was empty. Billy wasn't there.
Don's badge was on the desk, but his phone wasn't. He was already walking towards the desk to see if the phone had fallen when he noticed it on the sofa. He sat on the sofa, picking up the phone. He should call home. It had been several days before the last time, and he knew his father would sound angry, his mother would sound tired, and Charlie… Charlie wouldn't even come on the phone to talk to him. Don couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to Charlie. They had exchanged a few neutral words about his work but nothing beyond that. Don had a feeling Charlie blamed him for something. He couldn't help thinking that Charlie was right.
Suddenly, the door opened and Don turned around abruptly, still holding the phone in his hand. It was Billy, wearing dark denim jeans, a white sleeveless shirt and an unbuttoned denim shirt. His favourite combination, although he couldn't explain why exactly. Don concentrated on the small area of bare skin showing between the shirt and jeans. The cut was low.
"Ham or salmon?" Billy asked, waving a paper bag in front of him. "Brought some bagels from the place next door."
"So that's where you were?" Don asked, looking up at Billy's small smirk. "What'd you do with my phone?"
"Here, you take the salmon," Billy said as he walked closer, digging up the bagel and a cup of coffee before giving them to Don. "They called us and you were in the shower, so I thought I'd get the call."
Immediately Don felt alert, taking a quick bite from the bagel because it would take a while before the next time he got to eat.
"Where're we going?" he asked, taking a sip of the coffee. He nearly burnt his tongue and the roof of his mouth with the hot liquid.
"How does bed sound?" Billy asked, and Don inhaled so suddenly that he started coughing, nearly choking on the bagel. Billy was laughing. "Take it easy, we don't have to go anywhere."
"Coop, what the hell are you talking about?"
"They caught Halloran at the mall fifteen minutes before they called. We get this day and tomorrow off."
Oh. Well, that was good news.
"So, how about that bed?" Billy asked again, and Don gave a careful laugh.
"I could really use the rest," he then said, and Billy nodded.
"Then rest it is."
* * *
When Don woke up, he had no idea where he was, what time it was, or even who he was. When he turned his head to the left, everything fell into place. He was in bed with Billy, the room was dark so it had to be night time already, and he... he was Don and he was desperate to go to the bathroom.
It wasn't the easiest task to crawl over a sleeping person without waking him up, but somehow Don managed to do it. Yawning so widely it hurt, Don staggered to the bathroom, not bothering to turn the lights on or close the door behind him.
There came a small voice from the room, and Don knew he had failed. Despite his best efforts, Billy had apparently woken up.
"Come here," Billy said, his voice strangely detached. "Come on, hun."
Hun?
Don flushed the toilet, washed his hands under the lukewarm water, dried them in the nearby towel and walked back to the room. In the dim light coming from the lamps outside, Don could see Billy lying on the bed, his eyes closed and mouth slightly open. His breathing was a definite give-away -- he was asleep and apparently talking in his sleep.
Billy gave a small chuckle at something Don could neither see nor hear. Turning in his sleep, Billy mumbled something and then laughed. Don couldn't help but smile to himself.
He looked at the bed -- almost but not quite wide enough for two people to sleep in -- and wondered how on earth he could manage crawling over Billy again. He soon came to the realization that it was not going to happen. Not the way Billy was sprawled all over it. Instead, he picked up his coat and phone and headed out.
The sun hadn't started rising yet and the air was cool and fresh. There was a young couple standing by the door of the nearby room, and Don noticed the woman was quite drunk. His instincts told him to take a better look at the couple, just in case. But then the woman laughed, hugged the man, and Don could see a golden ring on her rin finger. The man laughed with her, took a better hold of her waist, and opened the door. No reason to worry, Don thought to himself and relaxed. No crime about to happen.
Don should be at his own apartment right now, enjoying the freedom that didn't often come his way. But he wasn't there, didn't even want to be there. It only reminded him of all the things that were wrong with his life. Here, in this almost but not quite cheap motel, he was pleasantly far away from those problems and worries.
He decided to go for a brief walk in the brisk air. It wasn't his original intention, but he soon found himself standing in front of a 7-Eleven, so he thought he might as well step in. There was only one other customer there, and the clerk was browsing through some magazine when Don went to pay for his goods.
Soon he was out again, holding a paper bag, and since he didn't feel like walking any further, he decided to head back to the motel. Taking small, careful sips from his scalding hot coffee, he walked down the street, seemingly minding his own business but all the while keeping an eye on his environment.
Once back at the motel, he put the bag on the table and looked around. Billy was still in bed, sleeping, now closer to the wall, just where Don had been sleeping earlier, so that there was a vacant slice of space where Billy had been sleeping earlier.
Don took off his shoes and then his coat, placed it on one of the chairs, and walked to the bed. He sat down and took off his shirt and trousers until he was wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. He tried to pull one of the corners of the blanket, but Billy was determined to hog it all to himself. So Don lay down and closed his eyes.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt Billy turning around and placing his hand on Don's waist. From there, it slid along his shirt-clad stomach until Billy was snuggling up close to him, his chin against Don's shoulder. Don tensed up, not knowing what the hell to do about it.
It's wasn't like they hadn't fooled around before. There had been that one time during the week-long hunt that never seemed to end. They had been tired, exhausted really, and one thing had led to another. But they had never talked about it after that. There hadn't been an awkward morning after or anything of the sort. They just... let it be, like it hadn't mattered one way or the others. Almost like it hadn't even happened.
Don wasn't sure what Billy thought about that one time. He'd considered asking him a few times, but the timing just never seemed right. But now Billy was lying really close to him, in fact much too close to him, and he really would have appreciated knowing what was an okay thing to do and what would earn a punch in his face.
Suddenly he felt Billy's lips on his shoulder, and he shivered. It felt good, way too good, and way too tempting. He wanted to touch Billy, and he already raised his free hand to put it on Billy's when he stopped himself.
"Morning," came a sleepy voice, and Don started at the sound. Billy was awake now, apparently, but did nothing to move away from him.
"Morning yourself," Don said, turning his head a little to the side.
Billy's eyes were open now, and he looked happy somehow. Then he seemed to have noticed the position he was in, and he smiled apologetically.
"Sorry," he said, pulling his hand away from Don's stomach. It felt cold already. "Been a while."
"No, it's okay," Don rushed to say before the situation got awkward. "I didn't mind."
Even though he didn't mind it, it certainly hadn't gone unnoticed.
Billy, still lying on his side of the bed, looked at Don in the eye, and Don could see he looked amused. He gave Don a grin, and Don felt Billy's hand on his stomach again.
"This doesn't bother you?" Billy asked, letting his fingers slide under the shirt, along the bare skin, upwards towards Don's chest. It tickled and made him shiver, and he enjoyed it more than he cared to admit. He closed his eyes and smiled.
"No," he said. It would have been a lie to say anything else, and Billy was too good at noticing when he was telling the truth and when he wasn't. It was better to just own up.
"Good," Billy replied, then pushed himself up until he was looking down at Don, leaning against his left arm. Without a word, he came down and kissed Don. Careful at first, like he was trying to remember what kissing was like -- or maybe what kissing a guy was like, with the morning stubble and everything -- and then paying more attention to it. It had been a while since Don had kissed anyone, and now that it was happening it felt a little strange. Like it was more real than he had remembered it to be.
But it was good, way too good, and Billy's kisses were strong and determined, hungry, scruffy and just that little bit desperate. As if he was afraid Don would suddenly back down and stop him, which was the last thing Don would do. He wanted this too much.
Billy's lips were on his neck, his tongue tracing a path towards Don's earlobe. He stopped for a moment, and Don let out a low, disappointed grunt.
"Why didn't we do this sooner?" Bily asked with a whisper, his breath on Don's skin making the hair on his neck stand on end.
Don laughed, both because of the tickling from the breath and because of what Billy said.
"In case you've forgotten, we have done this sooner," he said, pressing his palms against Billy's back, pulling him down. Then Billy's lips were on Don again, right where they were supposed to be.
He stopped kissing his neck, earning another sound of displeasure from Don, and turned his head a little until he was looking at Don from a sideways angle. He was smirking.
"I know that," he said. "I meant that it's been too long since the last time."
"That's totally your fault. Now shut up," Don said, then pulled Billy down for a kiss.
He didn't want to talk. It was beginning to become hard to even know what words meant, because the only thing in his mind right now was to get Billy as close to him as possible. Skin on skin. Closer even.
His wish was granted when Billy slipped his hand inside Don's boxers and cupped him. Slightly callused fingers, their grip firm and determined, the friction making him dizzy. Billy was trying to kill him with those much too slow strokes that only made Don want to hiss curses at him, urge him to move faster. Not thinking what he was doing, he put his own hand on Billy's, guiding it.
"Look at me," Billy said in a hoarse voice, and it took Don a while to understand that the words were aimed at him. He opened his eyes.
Billy's hand was coaxing him to come, and Don took his own hand away. He wanted to close his eyes and bite his tongue and just ride it through, but the moment he closed his eyes again, Billy put his free hand on Don's cheek. "Eyes open."
It sounded vaguely like an order, and Don complied. Billy looked him the eye, and he looked back. If he had thought they had been close before, he had been wrong. Looking at Billy looking back at him, their eyes locked, felt almost overwhelming. The lust in Billy's eyes mirroring the one he felt, the smug, almost evil glint urging him to come. With that hand, the fingers stroking at his cock, it was all getting unbearable.
"Come on," Billy said. "I've never seen you come before. I want to see it."
Don's breathing was heavy now, and he bit his lower lip, dug his fingers into Billy's sides and then he closed his eyes and threw his head back because he could no longer control it. What Billy wanted, Billy got.
He was still panting as it came to him that Billy was still hard. His muscles were beginning to feel heavy, every single part of his body relaxed, but he wanted to do this. Wanted to pay the gesture. So he pushed at Billy gently until he was on his back, and now it was Don above him, looking down at him, and he enjoyed the change in the power balance more than he had expected.
"Now let's hear you scream," he said, and Billy laughed out loud, the laughter catching in his throat when Don took a hold of his cock and gave it a stroke, because it wasn't the soft, slow kind, as Don had no intention of going gentle on him.
"Fuck," Billy said, and he came in only a few seconds with a loud grunt. Don could see the expression on his face on that exact moment, and it looked like part pain, part pleasure, and it was everything Don had wanted to see. With his last strength, he lowered down and gave Billy a sloppy, half-hearted kiss before falling down next to him.
"Jesus Christ," Billy said, panting.
"Yeah," Don replied, reaching for something on the floor to wipe themselves with. When his hand touched a piece of cloth, a t-shirt it seemed, he picked it up, wiped himself up, and gave it to Billy.
"Thanks."
Don wanted to stay awake, because he knew it was already getting to be a morning and they had to leave the motel at some point, but he could feel the relaxation reach every part of his body and he felt more content than he had felt in a long time. Next to him, he could hear Billy changing position and pulling the blankets on, and after that there was only the sound of Billy's breathing. Despite his plans, when the sun rose high enough to shine through the window, Don had already fallen asleep.
* * *
It was already late in the afternoon when Don next opened his eyes. Remembering what had happened, he looked to his left, but Billy wasn't there. Before Don could call out his name, he appeared from the bathroom, dressed in yesterday's clothes but his hair wet. He noticed Don.
"I thought you were going to sleep through the day," he said.
"Not in this bed," Don replied, although he had to admit that the bed was kind of comfortable. Surprisingly so, considering it was just a regular bed in a regular motel, and it had been used by more visitors than he wanted to admit.
"What's with the Snapple?" Billy asked, and it took Don a moment to understand what he was talking about. Apparently Billy had found the stuff he had brought with him when he'd been on his night walk.
"When I saw it I thought of you," he said, smiling.
Billy looked like he was about to laugh as well.
"Cute, Eppes. Very cute."
Don sat up on the bed and searched for his clothes, which he found on the floor, right where he had left them several hours earlier. He put them on and walked to his cell phone. No calls, but then again, he hadn't really expected there to be any. If it had rung, he would've woken up to the ringing.
"Listen," he said to Billy as he took the paper bag, picking up a sandwich that had already seen its best days but still looked edible. Didn't smell too bad, either. "I was thinking of taking a few days off. Going home for a while. You know."
Billy gave him a curious look but didn't say anything.
"If you want, you could come with me."
It took a while before Billy answered.
"Maybe next time. I think this might be something you need to do alone."
Don thought about the words, and he knew Billy was right. He nodded.
"I'll be back before you know it," he said.
Billy grinned at him.
"You'd better, because if you don't then I'll come and drag you out of there myself."
Don laughed. There were no fugitives who had managed to get away from Billy, and Don had a feeling that if he tried, he would also fail. It was best not to even try, and to be honest, he didn't even feel like trying.
--The End--
Author: littlemimm
Title: Back In The Day
Pairing: Don Eppes/Billy Cooper
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers for 1x13 (Manhunt)
Summary: Takes place when Don and Cooper were a team during those "FBI's Fugitive Recovery Division" days in Phoenix.
It was the fourth night they were spending in the car, and as comfortable as the seats had been in the beginning, Don would have given just about anything to change them to a soft sofa. Or, what he craved even more, a bed covered with clean, fluffy pillows and equally smooth blankets. Something he could bury himself in and forget this tiring mission.
He loved his job, but he really didn't want to be here now.
Looking out through the window at the yard he and Billy were watching, he saw a broken, blue tricycle. Oddly, it reminded him of Charlie, and he realized something.
"When was the last time you saw your family?" he asked Billy.
Billy made a sound of deep, sudden inhalation, and Don turned to look at him. He was rubbing his eyes with the sides of his hands.
"You're not supposed to sleep when you're on duty," Don said, then softened the possibly scolding comment with the beginnings of a smile.
"Wasn't sleeping, just resting my eyes."
Now Billy turned to look at Don, mild bewilderment in his gaze. His eyes looked tired, a little on the reddish side, and Don wished they both were in the soft bed he had imagined a moment earlier.
"Did you say something?" Billy said.
"When did you last see your folks?" Don asked, feeling a little stupid for having to repeat such a pointless question. "I mean, we're up during nights and sleep during days, there's no time to actually go home. I love the job but I hate what it's doing to my life."
Billy didn't reply, only rested his head against the back of the seat.
"What are you going to do about it?" he then asked, apparently avoiding talking about his own situation.
"I've been talking with Dad. He's told me about Mom, and things aren't looking too good right now. I should be there, but my job..." The last words were more a silent whisper than anything else. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Billy didn't rush it, didn't urge him to continue. He just looked through the window on his side, then faced Don.
"Want me to get some coffee?"
Don let out a long sigh, leaning his head against the headrest. He closed his eyes and gave a small nod. Quietly, Billy opened the door and stepped out, shutting the door behind him. After a while, Don turned to look after him, seeing his distancing back as he turned around a corner. With Billy gone, everything was silent, almost too silent. Don turned to look at the building in front of him, keeping an eye on the front yard in case their man would turn out while Billy was gone.
For a long time, nothing happened. Every now and then Don turned in Billy's direction, but there was no one there. Don made sure his gun was in its place. Better alone and prepared than with a teammate and unarmed. He let his hand rest on the gun, feeling its cool and solid surface against his fingertips.
There was movement in one of the bushes on the front yard, and Don automatically raised his gun with one hand while putting his other hand on the door handle. Just as he was about to open the door to step out of the car and take a better look at the unknown intruder, he noticed movement in the corner of his eye and he turned quickly to his right, holding his gun with both hands, pointing it towards whoever was about to attack him.
It was Billy, holding a paper bag and a styrofoam cup in one hand and another cup in the other. As he walked closer, he seemed to notice what Don was doing, because he stopped for a moment, then continued on his way towards the car.
Don leaned over the other seat to open the door and Billy came in, putting the cups and the bag on the dashboard.
"Jesus, Don. Are you sure you don't need proper sleep instead of caffeine?" Billy asked, and Don remembered his original reason for taking the gun out. He looked at the leaves that had been moving only a moment earlier, and now he saw what had caused it. A raccoon ran across the yard and vanished into another shrubbery. Billy's gaze followed Don's and he soon realized what was going on.
"Not the one we want," he said, sounding amused. "Here, take this."
Billy offered Don the other cup and slipped his hand in the bag to pick up a glazed donut.
"Put that back," he said, nodding towards the gun Don was still holding in his hand, and once Don did as he was told, Billy offered him the donut. "Now, eat. Let me keep guard."
"Thanks," was the only thing Don got out before he dug his teeth into the soft donut and tasted the sweetness of the sugar. He took a sip from the cup and the sweetness turned into warmth, and he let out a small sound of pleasure as he sank in his seat.
"Better?" Billy asked, and Don merely nodded with his eyes closed.
There was a moment of silence in the car as the two of them ate and drank, and it was broken when Billy crumpled the paper bag and threw it in the backseat.
"Want to talk about it?" he then asked and for a while Don didn't understand that Billy was talking to him. Who else he could be talking to, Don didn't know. The case was getting to him and he found himself hating it. To his shock, he realized it wasn't the first time. He had been feeling that way for a long time now, and if in the beginning he had believed that it would go away, he was now beginning to understand that it wasn't going to go away. His reluctance towards his current career would only grow stronger.
"About what?" he asked, pushing the work frustration to the back of his mind.
"Your mother. Work. Anything, really."
"There's not much to tell. She's sick, it looks bad, and Dad's pissed off about me being here instead of home."
Billy's reply was silence and a concerned look, and they both drank their coffees without another word spoken between them for quite a while.
"Any idea what you'll do?" Billy finally said, his voice low.
"The way I see it, I have two choices. Either I get transferred somewhere closer to L.A. or I bury myself into work."
Billy said nothing. They both looked at the dark front yard and noticed the familiar raccoon, or maybe it was another one, appearing out of the bushes. After that, everything fell silent again. Don drank the rest of his coffee and held onto the cup on his knee, tapping its side with his fingers. He didn't know what to say, and it seemed like Billy didn't, either.
When the morning came, the sun rose, but neither of them saw it because it was still too cloudy. After their report -- a silent night, nothing suspicious -- and after the other team had arrived to take their place, they headed for the motel to get some sleep.
* * *
Billy's chest was glistening, covered in droplets of water sliding down along his skin. He ruffled his damp hair with his hands, walking lazily towards Don.
"The water's damn cold. Don't freeze your balls off," he said, his hand touching Don's bare shoulder for a brief moment, the fingers pressing the skin lightly. The touch was cold against Don's still sleep-warm skin, causing the hair in the back of Don's neck to stand on end. A rush both cold and hot travelled through his body, making him turn his eyes momentarily away from Billy who was wearing only a small towel around his waist.
When Don looked at him again, Billy was already standing next to the sofa; the towel was hanging from the armrest. He was naked, his lower back pale, his shoulders a shade darker, more tanned and freckled. Don took all this in as he grabbed his towel and a clean pair of underwear and walked towards the bathroom.
As Don was pulling the door close, he glanced over his shoulder, wanting to see Billy. For some reason Billy had turned halfway around as well and looked back at Don. Neither one of them said anything, only looked at each other for a moment, and then Don stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. His hand was already moving towards the lock, but then he decided against it. He didn't stop to think about the reason behind it.
The water was as cold as Billy had said it would be, and Don washed his hair quickly, leaning towards the stream to wash the foam off. He heard Billy's voice from the room, as if he were talking to someone, but he couldn't make out the words through the water. He turned his head and got some of the soap in his eyes. Shutting them tight, he blindly reached for the tap to get water so he could rinse off the soap.
He closed the water, took his towel and dried his hair and himself before wrapping the towel around his waist. He stood there, looking at himself from the mirror above the sink. He noticed he looked tired, and he knew that if the hunt lasted for a few days longer, he would eventually get an almost haunted look in his eyes. The stress caused by the job and the lack of sleep did that to him, and all his friends who saw him during the hunt wondered why he didn't just give up his job and change into something lighter. He always insisted that it was the only job he wanted to do and he was ready to suffer for it. Sometimes he wondered if he was just lying to himself.
His eyes focused on his unshaven chin and he looked down at the pale, matte sink and the few small dark bottles there, but there was no razor there. He hadn't used one in two days because he didn't see the point if all he did was sit around in a car in the middle of darkness with only Billy as his company. Nobody would care.
As he was contemplating on his looks, he glanced at the door that remained shut. He thought about Billy, unclothed and damp-haired, knowing he shouldn't be thinking about it but feeling unable to stop himself. He listened to the sounds coming from outside, but everything was silent. Billy wasn't talking anymore. Giving himself one last look, Don put on a clean pair of dark blue boxers and opened the door. Pulling a white t-shirt on he looked around the room. Beige walls, a brown sofa and a wide bed with a beige bedspread dominated the place, but other than those the room was empty. Billy wasn't there.
Don's badge was on the desk, but his phone wasn't. He was already walking towards the desk to see if the phone had fallen when he noticed it on the sofa. He sat on the sofa, picking up the phone. He should call home. It had been several days before the last time, and he knew his father would sound angry, his mother would sound tired, and Charlie… Charlie wouldn't even come on the phone to talk to him. Don couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to Charlie. They had exchanged a few neutral words about his work but nothing beyond that. Don had a feeling Charlie blamed him for something. He couldn't help thinking that Charlie was right.
Suddenly, the door opened and Don turned around abruptly, still holding the phone in his hand. It was Billy, wearing dark denim jeans, a white sleeveless shirt and an unbuttoned denim shirt. His favourite combination, although he couldn't explain why exactly. Don concentrated on the small area of bare skin showing between the shirt and jeans. The cut was low.
"Ham or salmon?" Billy asked, waving a paper bag in front of him. "Brought some bagels from the place next door."
"So that's where you were?" Don asked, looking up at Billy's small smirk. "What'd you do with my phone?"
"Here, you take the salmon," Billy said as he walked closer, digging up the bagel and a cup of coffee before giving them to Don. "They called us and you were in the shower, so I thought I'd get the call."
Immediately Don felt alert, taking a quick bite from the bagel because it would take a while before the next time he got to eat.
"Where're we going?" he asked, taking a sip of the coffee. He nearly burnt his tongue and the roof of his mouth with the hot liquid.
"How does bed sound?" Billy asked, and Don inhaled so suddenly that he started coughing, nearly choking on the bagel. Billy was laughing. "Take it easy, we don't have to go anywhere."
"Coop, what the hell are you talking about?"
"They caught Halloran at the mall fifteen minutes before they called. We get this day and tomorrow off."
Oh. Well, that was good news.
"So, how about that bed?" Billy asked again, and Don gave a careful laugh.
"I could really use the rest," he then said, and Billy nodded.
"Then rest it is."
* * *
When Don woke up, he had no idea where he was, what time it was, or even who he was. When he turned his head to the left, everything fell into place. He was in bed with Billy, the room was dark so it had to be night time already, and he... he was Don and he was desperate to go to the bathroom.
It wasn't the easiest task to crawl over a sleeping person without waking him up, but somehow Don managed to do it. Yawning so widely it hurt, Don staggered to the bathroom, not bothering to turn the lights on or close the door behind him.
There came a small voice from the room, and Don knew he had failed. Despite his best efforts, Billy had apparently woken up.
"Come here," Billy said, his voice strangely detached. "Come on, hun."
Hun?
Don flushed the toilet, washed his hands under the lukewarm water, dried them in the nearby towel and walked back to the room. In the dim light coming from the lamps outside, Don could see Billy lying on the bed, his eyes closed and mouth slightly open. His breathing was a definite give-away -- he was asleep and apparently talking in his sleep.
Billy gave a small chuckle at something Don could neither see nor hear. Turning in his sleep, Billy mumbled something and then laughed. Don couldn't help but smile to himself.
He looked at the bed -- almost but not quite wide enough for two people to sleep in -- and wondered how on earth he could manage crawling over Billy again. He soon came to the realization that it was not going to happen. Not the way Billy was sprawled all over it. Instead, he picked up his coat and phone and headed out.
The sun hadn't started rising yet and the air was cool and fresh. There was a young couple standing by the door of the nearby room, and Don noticed the woman was quite drunk. His instincts told him to take a better look at the couple, just in case. But then the woman laughed, hugged the man, and Don could see a golden ring on her rin finger. The man laughed with her, took a better hold of her waist, and opened the door. No reason to worry, Don thought to himself and relaxed. No crime about to happen.
Don should be at his own apartment right now, enjoying the freedom that didn't often come his way. But he wasn't there, didn't even want to be there. It only reminded him of all the things that were wrong with his life. Here, in this almost but not quite cheap motel, he was pleasantly far away from those problems and worries.
He decided to go for a brief walk in the brisk air. It wasn't his original intention, but he soon found himself standing in front of a 7-Eleven, so he thought he might as well step in. There was only one other customer there, and the clerk was browsing through some magazine when Don went to pay for his goods.
Soon he was out again, holding a paper bag, and since he didn't feel like walking any further, he decided to head back to the motel. Taking small, careful sips from his scalding hot coffee, he walked down the street, seemingly minding his own business but all the while keeping an eye on his environment.
Once back at the motel, he put the bag on the table and looked around. Billy was still in bed, sleeping, now closer to the wall, just where Don had been sleeping earlier, so that there was a vacant slice of space where Billy had been sleeping earlier.
Don took off his shoes and then his coat, placed it on one of the chairs, and walked to the bed. He sat down and took off his shirt and trousers until he was wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. He tried to pull one of the corners of the blanket, but Billy was determined to hog it all to himself. So Don lay down and closed his eyes.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt Billy turning around and placing his hand on Don's waist. From there, it slid along his shirt-clad stomach until Billy was snuggling up close to him, his chin against Don's shoulder. Don tensed up, not knowing what the hell to do about it.
It's wasn't like they hadn't fooled around before. There had been that one time during the week-long hunt that never seemed to end. They had been tired, exhausted really, and one thing had led to another. But they had never talked about it after that. There hadn't been an awkward morning after or anything of the sort. They just... let it be, like it hadn't mattered one way or the others. Almost like it hadn't even happened.
Don wasn't sure what Billy thought about that one time. He'd considered asking him a few times, but the timing just never seemed right. But now Billy was lying really close to him, in fact much too close to him, and he really would have appreciated knowing what was an okay thing to do and what would earn a punch in his face.
Suddenly he felt Billy's lips on his shoulder, and he shivered. It felt good, way too good, and way too tempting. He wanted to touch Billy, and he already raised his free hand to put it on Billy's when he stopped himself.
"Morning," came a sleepy voice, and Don started at the sound. Billy was awake now, apparently, but did nothing to move away from him.
"Morning yourself," Don said, turning his head a little to the side.
Billy's eyes were open now, and he looked happy somehow. Then he seemed to have noticed the position he was in, and he smiled apologetically.
"Sorry," he said, pulling his hand away from Don's stomach. It felt cold already. "Been a while."
"No, it's okay," Don rushed to say before the situation got awkward. "I didn't mind."
Even though he didn't mind it, it certainly hadn't gone unnoticed.
Billy, still lying on his side of the bed, looked at Don in the eye, and Don could see he looked amused. He gave Don a grin, and Don felt Billy's hand on his stomach again.
"This doesn't bother you?" Billy asked, letting his fingers slide under the shirt, along the bare skin, upwards towards Don's chest. It tickled and made him shiver, and he enjoyed it more than he cared to admit. He closed his eyes and smiled.
"No," he said. It would have been a lie to say anything else, and Billy was too good at noticing when he was telling the truth and when he wasn't. It was better to just own up.
"Good," Billy replied, then pushed himself up until he was looking down at Don, leaning against his left arm. Without a word, he came down and kissed Don. Careful at first, like he was trying to remember what kissing was like -- or maybe what kissing a guy was like, with the morning stubble and everything -- and then paying more attention to it. It had been a while since Don had kissed anyone, and now that it was happening it felt a little strange. Like it was more real than he had remembered it to be.
But it was good, way too good, and Billy's kisses were strong and determined, hungry, scruffy and just that little bit desperate. As if he was afraid Don would suddenly back down and stop him, which was the last thing Don would do. He wanted this too much.
Billy's lips were on his neck, his tongue tracing a path towards Don's earlobe. He stopped for a moment, and Don let out a low, disappointed grunt.
"Why didn't we do this sooner?" Bily asked with a whisper, his breath on Don's skin making the hair on his neck stand on end.
Don laughed, both because of the tickling from the breath and because of what Billy said.
"In case you've forgotten, we have done this sooner," he said, pressing his palms against Billy's back, pulling him down. Then Billy's lips were on Don again, right where they were supposed to be.
He stopped kissing his neck, earning another sound of displeasure from Don, and turned his head a little until he was looking at Don from a sideways angle. He was smirking.
"I know that," he said. "I meant that it's been too long since the last time."
"That's totally your fault. Now shut up," Don said, then pulled Billy down for a kiss.
He didn't want to talk. It was beginning to become hard to even know what words meant, because the only thing in his mind right now was to get Billy as close to him as possible. Skin on skin. Closer even.
His wish was granted when Billy slipped his hand inside Don's boxers and cupped him. Slightly callused fingers, their grip firm and determined, the friction making him dizzy. Billy was trying to kill him with those much too slow strokes that only made Don want to hiss curses at him, urge him to move faster. Not thinking what he was doing, he put his own hand on Billy's, guiding it.
"Look at me," Billy said in a hoarse voice, and it took Don a while to understand that the words were aimed at him. He opened his eyes.
Billy's hand was coaxing him to come, and Don took his own hand away. He wanted to close his eyes and bite his tongue and just ride it through, but the moment he closed his eyes again, Billy put his free hand on Don's cheek. "Eyes open."
It sounded vaguely like an order, and Don complied. Billy looked him the eye, and he looked back. If he had thought they had been close before, he had been wrong. Looking at Billy looking back at him, their eyes locked, felt almost overwhelming. The lust in Billy's eyes mirroring the one he felt, the smug, almost evil glint urging him to come. With that hand, the fingers stroking at his cock, it was all getting unbearable.
"Come on," Billy said. "I've never seen you come before. I want to see it."
Don's breathing was heavy now, and he bit his lower lip, dug his fingers into Billy's sides and then he closed his eyes and threw his head back because he could no longer control it. What Billy wanted, Billy got.
He was still panting as it came to him that Billy was still hard. His muscles were beginning to feel heavy, every single part of his body relaxed, but he wanted to do this. Wanted to pay the gesture. So he pushed at Billy gently until he was on his back, and now it was Don above him, looking down at him, and he enjoyed the change in the power balance more than he had expected.
"Now let's hear you scream," he said, and Billy laughed out loud, the laughter catching in his throat when Don took a hold of his cock and gave it a stroke, because it wasn't the soft, slow kind, as Don had no intention of going gentle on him.
"Fuck," Billy said, and he came in only a few seconds with a loud grunt. Don could see the expression on his face on that exact moment, and it looked like part pain, part pleasure, and it was everything Don had wanted to see. With his last strength, he lowered down and gave Billy a sloppy, half-hearted kiss before falling down next to him.
"Jesus Christ," Billy said, panting.
"Yeah," Don replied, reaching for something on the floor to wipe themselves with. When his hand touched a piece of cloth, a t-shirt it seemed, he picked it up, wiped himself up, and gave it to Billy.
"Thanks."
Don wanted to stay awake, because he knew it was already getting to be a morning and they had to leave the motel at some point, but he could feel the relaxation reach every part of his body and he felt more content than he had felt in a long time. Next to him, he could hear Billy changing position and pulling the blankets on, and after that there was only the sound of Billy's breathing. Despite his plans, when the sun rose high enough to shine through the window, Don had already fallen asleep.
* * *
It was already late in the afternoon when Don next opened his eyes. Remembering what had happened, he looked to his left, but Billy wasn't there. Before Don could call out his name, he appeared from the bathroom, dressed in yesterday's clothes but his hair wet. He noticed Don.
"I thought you were going to sleep through the day," he said.
"Not in this bed," Don replied, although he had to admit that the bed was kind of comfortable. Surprisingly so, considering it was just a regular bed in a regular motel, and it had been used by more visitors than he wanted to admit.
"What's with the Snapple?" Billy asked, and it took Don a moment to understand what he was talking about. Apparently Billy had found the stuff he had brought with him when he'd been on his night walk.
"When I saw it I thought of you," he said, smiling.
Billy looked like he was about to laugh as well.
"Cute, Eppes. Very cute."
Don sat up on the bed and searched for his clothes, which he found on the floor, right where he had left them several hours earlier. He put them on and walked to his cell phone. No calls, but then again, he hadn't really expected there to be any. If it had rung, he would've woken up to the ringing.
"Listen," he said to Billy as he took the paper bag, picking up a sandwich that had already seen its best days but still looked edible. Didn't smell too bad, either. "I was thinking of taking a few days off. Going home for a while. You know."
Billy gave him a curious look but didn't say anything.
"If you want, you could come with me."
It took a while before Billy answered.
"Maybe next time. I think this might be something you need to do alone."
Don thought about the words, and he knew Billy was right. He nodded.
"I'll be back before you know it," he said.
Billy grinned at him.
"You'd better, because if you don't then I'll come and drag you out of there myself."
Don laughed. There were no fugitives who had managed to get away from Billy, and Don had a feeling that if he tried, he would also fail. It was best not to even try, and to be honest, he didn't even feel like trying.
--The End--