Moonlight Sonata

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight couldn't sleep.

There was nothing new about that, not since he'd come home from the war. In the months he'd stayed at home, trying to keep himself together enough to look after their business interests, Goodnight had suffered bouts of insomnia bad enough that a doctor suggested laudanum to help him sleep.

Most nights, however, he'd come downstairs and played at the piano until he got fed up or tired enough to try to sleep. Apparently someone remembered those habits; when Goodnight found the piano, there was a candle already sitting on it - not lit, but waiting.

Monsieur Lucien does not sleep. He remembered overhearing Anaïs talking to a new member of the household. Monsieur Lucien plays the piano at night; do not be surprised if you hear it. Do not bother him.

Goodnight got the candle lit and set the one he'd brought from upstairs down on the other side of the piano. He lifted the cover and brushed his fingers over the keys, re-familiarizing himself; it hadn't been that long since he played, it had been years since he sat at this particular piano. He knew it would be well-tuned, knew it had been looked after. After a while he began playing the quiet strains of Beethoven's sonata.

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[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy could not sleep. It had been months, long months, since he and Goodnight had slept apart. San Francisco--yes, that was the last time. And after that, they hadn't bothered with the pretense. Even just having Goodnight in the room, if not in his bed, was enough to keep his calm. But not tonight. Goodnight felt on another world.

This house, in the dead of night, felt like the one he'd worked at in Washington. It felt like the master was here somewhere. It felt like his son was. Billy didn't like any of that.

He heard, elsewhere in the house, piano playing. It was on a better kept piano than any saloon upright, and the music was not an upbeat drinking song. Billy rose from bed in his night shirt--borrowed from Goodnight's trunk--and put on a dressing road--borrowed from Goodnight's trunk--and headed down stairs without a candle. He was used to navigating space without too much light.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Playing helped give his thoughts something to follow, helped him smooth out jumbled and disjointed things rushing through his head. It occurred to him, then, that he should have just gone to Billy. He was not two doors away from the bedroom he was staying in. Since San Francisco he'd been able to indulge in that comfort, even if they weren't always sharing a bed.

What were they doing here? What had he drawn them into? Why had he accepted putting them both under near-constant scrutiny?

Lost in thought and in the sound of his own playing, Goodnight didn't notice for a moment when someone else came into the room.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy lingered at the edge of the music room, watching Goodnight at the piano. He knew Goodnight could play, of course, and he found he wasn't very surprised to find him like this, right now. He stepped, slowly, toward the warm candle light and settled on the bench beside Goodnight without a word.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

And then, like a dream, Billy was right there, next to him. Goodnight's playing didn't falter but he moved over, closing the scant inches between them until he was pressed against Billy's side. "Couldn't sleep either?" he asked softly. "Or did I wake you?"

[assassinwithahairpin]

"Couldn't sleep," he said, just as softly. Goodnight was a warm brand beside him, searing into him, livening him slightly. He could stay awake for days, just for the weight of Goodnight's body right against him.

He plucked at a key randomly as Goodnight continued to play. "Reminds me of the home I worked for."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight looked over at him after that confession, eyebrows drawn together. His fingers faltered on the keys. "Oh cher... I hadn't even thought of that."

And there, in the dark parlor, he cradled Billy's face against his palm; he kissed him. "I should have," he murmured, lightly touching their brows together. His thumb stroked across Billy's cheekbone. "You alright?"

[assassinwithahairpin]

The kiss was steeling, resolute. Billy ground himself in it. He plunked at his random key again as they leaned into each other, everything around them and their circle of candlelight muted.

"It's alright," he said. "I wouldn't have expected you to. I don't talk about it."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"No you don't. But I knew about it all the same." He stroked Billy's cheek again before he let his hand slide down, brushing over his neck and resting on his shoulder. Goodnight just looked at him for a moment.

"C'mon, it's late." There was something resolved in the way he stood up. Goodnight blew out the candle that had been sitting on the piano when he came down. He picked up the other one and reached for Billy's hand.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Goodnight did not push, and Billy did not lay himself bare. It wasn't how they worked. So much of Billy's past was still a deliberate mystery, but he wondered, sometimes, if Goodnight knew more about his past than he had ever let on.

They rose from the piano. Billy took the candle from Goodnight and gave him a slow, soft kiss, almost chaste.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

He didn't need to ask about some things; Goodnight was raised in a house that, until the war, had slaves. Maybe Billy's experience hadn't been entirely the same, but he had to imagine it wasn't all that different, either.

Goodnight followed him up the stairs but rather than turning back to Gus's room, he followed Billy into his own and quietly shut the door after them. He had no intention of spending the rest of the night alone, not when the solution to their inability to sleep seemed so clear. He always slept better with Billy next to him. Why deny himself that rest?

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy very nearly made a soft joke that Goodnight was joining him for the familiarity of the room, and not the man in his bed. It seemed off color, somehow. They stepped into the room and Billy slipped his fingers between Goodnight's, standing there in the dark room with only the candle to illuminate them and their very immediate surroundings.

Gently, he pulled Goodnight toward the bed. He set the candlestick down and shuffled to the far edge of the bed, pulling Goodnight onto the nearside.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight moved easily. The room was familiar in a distant way, but Billy was immediate and comforting. He climbed into bed and as soon as Billy blew out the candle and did the same, Goodnight reached for him. It might be prudent to make a quiet escape come morning, but he didn't care about that now. He wrapped around Billy, held him close and nuzzled against his hair. This was what he'd been needing.

[assassinwithahairpin]

They were in each others arms like there was nowhere in the world they could possibly be, and Billy sighed comfortably as he tangled them up together. Already, some of the quiet anxiety of sleeping apart in this house was easing. He knew he shouldn't burden Goodnight with needing him this badly, but Goodnight seemed to need this too.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight needed the companionship as badly as Billy did; this was hardly a burden. "Sleep, cher," he murmured, lips against Billy's hair. "We're alright."

He drifted off like that, manage to sleep soundly for the rest of the night in this house full of ghosts. He was awake early, but he didn't rush out of bed. He knew the sounds of this house, even if he'd been gone. No one was moving about upstairs, no rustle or whispers in the hall. They could have a few moments yet.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy drifted more than he slept. He was comforted and content with Goodnight next to him, wrapped around him a bit. When Goodnight started to rouse, Billy came awake all at once, but he didn't move. He stayed there, curled and tangled against Goodnight, a hand smoothing over his chest slowly.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

His hand covered Billy's, gently pinning it to his chest. He curled his fingers, holding onto him tenderly. This was worth every trouble. He turned his head to kiss Billy's forehead. "Did you sleep?" he asked quietly, voice still heavy and rough from sleep.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy was sure that Goodnight's voice, fresh and gravelly from sleep, was one of his favorite ways to listen to Goodnight speak. He nodded against Goodnight's chest. It was a lie, but not a bad one. He'd slept enough.

He laced their fingers together slowly, gently, and tilted his head up to nuzzle at Goodnight's jaw gently.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight tipped his head down to catch Billy in a kiss, soft and sweet. He wanted this moment to last, wanted the morning to draw out longer. He wanted to stay here in bed, where it was safe for him to touch Billy like this, to indulge in this sweet affection away from prying eyes.

Why the hell had he brought them here?

He kissed Billy's forehead. "At least I can promise you the coffee here is good," he teased softly, unwilling to break this moment with a raised voice.

[assassinwithahairpin]

"Bed's not bad either," Billy said, soft against Goodnight's mouth, as he smiled lazily. There was time before people started really rousing. Billy heard one of the clocks chime elsewhere in the house, signaling the early hour. The servants would be up soon, but this part of the house, with the masters and mistresses, would be quiet for a while yet.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight laughed quietly. "No, I can't find any complaint."

His smile lingered as he looked down at where their hands were laced together. He lifted Billy's hand to his mouth, pressing small, tender kisses across the back; he turned it over to kiss Billy's wrist, his palm. His hand slid higher along Billy's arm to pull him closer as Goodnight leaned to catch him in another full kiss.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Goodnight's hands had a soft, heavy roam that had Billy sighing softly. He'd neglected to take off the dressing gown over his night shirt when he'd gone downstairs and they'd come back up together. Now, he plucked the cord loose and slid out of it, so he was just in the nightshirt, tucked up close to Goodnight as they kissed slowly.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

He turned toward Billy as the robe came off, pulled him closer. "You know I love you," he murmured, voice soft and rough and private in the scant space between them. He stroked back Billy's hair, let his fingers tangle in it as he cradled his head and just took in the sight of him. Goodnight didn't know what he had done in all his life to deserve this man.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy sighed out, an almost rapturous sound. Those words slipped down into his belly and blossomed up, twining vines and soft, blooming heat in his lungs. "Oh, Goody," he murmured, weighty in that space between them. They laid there, pressed against one another, and Billy covered Goodnight's hands. "I love you, too."

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight's breath caught for a moment. His hand caressed Billy's in passing before he reached down to slowly hike up Billy's nightshirt. He reached beneath it, sliding his hand over Billy's thigh, his side, his stomach, all the while watching his face. They had time, they had privacy, and Billy was so damn beautiful.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Goodnight's hands went so slowly, gently wandering, and Billy's face went flushed, a lazy, deep need creeping through him as Goodnight put him on display and started to touch him like that. He traced his own hands across Goodnight's chest, feeling out the shape of him under the thin cotton of his nightshirt.

"Kiss me," he whispered, accent gone thick for a moment.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

How could he resist that? Goodnight caught him in another kiss, lingering this time as his fingers brush over Billy's cock before they wrap around him. The kiss was more heated than the last few, the slow burn of arousal creeping in as he fondled, teased.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy moaned softly into the kiss, almost as soon as Goodnight touched him. He rocked his hips lazily, enjoying this slow, close contact, the forbidden mixing seamlessly with the desired. He kissed back, fingers trailing down Goodnight's front so he could ruck his nightshirt up as well.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight's breath caught as Billy pulled his nightshirt up. He deepened the kiss and moved so that he was leaning more over him, his arm pillowed beneath Billy's head. He started stroking slowly, meeting the gentle movement of Billy's hips.

"Mon cher," he breathed, soft need edging his voice. Even if this moment was stolen, it was still theirs.

[assassinwithahairpin]

They rolled, slightly, but the bed was more than big enough for both of them and for their movement. Billy squirmed, just a little, his breath coming in stuttered pants already. He palmed Goodnight through his shorts, licking his lips, lifting his hips to press his cock through the circle of Goodnight's fingers.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

His breath caught with the insistent press of Billy's hand. Goodnight rocked his hips to meet him while his hand matched Billy's pace, encouraging the movement of his hips. He kept himself propped up, wanting to see Billy's face even if his view was occasionally interrupted by either of them seeking kisses.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy rubbed at a slower pace than the stroke of Goodnight's hand on his cock. He arched and squirmed, and blessed that the bed did not creak beneath them. Goodnight was watching him, so intently, so adoringly, and it flushed heat through Billy as he looked up at him, catching every kiss he could.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Billy's slow rubbing was worse than a tease: it was working. The slide of fabric and the heat of Billy's hand, the pressure, threatened to undo him. Goodnight caught Billy in a biting kiss; his thumb teased around the head of his cock. Sweet nothings fell from his mouth between every breathless kiss.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy groaned against Goodnight's mouth from that kind of kiss, from the way his fingers moved. He chased every kiss, sucked the praise off Goodnight's lips, murmured his own in Korean and increasingly broken English as he gasped quietly and squirmed.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"That's it," he whispered, feeling the change in the way Billy moved, the way he breathed. His own voice caught, eyebrows drawn briefly together as the pressure of Billy's hand shifted just so. Goodnight didn't try to coax his hand beyond fabric yet; he might not even need it at this rate. "Oh cher," he gasped, voice strained.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy shivered out a sigh, his hips arching off the bed insistently now. He swore, a long string of it, as he came in a mess on Goodnight's fingers and across his own belly. He never stopped moving his hand against the front of Goodnight's underwear, rubbing him steadily toward completion as well.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

The heat of Billy's come drew a moan from him. Goodnight pushed into a kiss, licked into his mouth to taste him as his own hips moved with more urgency, seeking Billy's hand steadily. He let go of Billy's cock, broke the kiss only to hold is hand between them, to catch a taste of Billy from his fingers. It didn't take him long, not with Billy's hand on his cock and his taste on his tongue. Goodnight tried to stifle a low moan, lost between them as he came. "Oh cher," he breathed, stifled and strained.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy bit his lip and whined, just for a second, as he watched Goodnight drag his fingers through the mess on his stomach and then lick his fingers clean. He squeezed Goodnight intently, feeling the heat of it when Goodnight came. He rocked up, kissing him deeply

[goodnight_robicheaux]

Goodnight held him in the kiss, pulled Billy closer against him. He didn't break from it until he feel like he needed to, if only to catch his breath. His fingertips brushed over Billy's cheek, the angle of the bone. He kissed him again.

"Let's not indulge that nonsense of sleeping apart," he murmured quietly, almost a plea.

[assassinwithahairpin]

Billy nodded in agreement. He lifted his clean hand and ran it gently into Goodnight's hair. When had he become incapable of being apart from this man? Perhaps he should worry over the dependency. More than that, he just wished they didn't have to hide, didn't have to make believe that this wasn't happening as soon as they stepped outside the bedroom.

"Please," he said, an ascent to the request.

[goodnight_robicheaux]

"I'm sorry we have to be so careful, cher." It was thing he'd felt the need to apologize for before; their discretion had always been for the sake of their safety. But being here, somehow, made it heavier.

[assassinwithahairpin]

"Don't apologize." There was no need for it. If they had been in a hotel, they would have had a bit more leeway in this sleeping arrangement, but they would still have to be careful, secretive. But in this moment, it felt like the whole world was there. There was nothing but them and this bed, and Billy could live with that.