Goodnight Robicheaux (
goodnight_robicheaux) wrote2016-12-12 02:02 am
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Moonlight Sonata
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.
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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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?
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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.
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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.
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He laced their fingers together slowly, gently, and tilted his head up to nuzzle at Goodnight's jaw gently.
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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.
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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.
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"Kiss me," he whispered, accent gone thick for a moment.
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"Mon cher," he breathed, soft need edging his voice. Even if this moment was stolen, it was still theirs.
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"Let's not indulge that nonsense of sleeping apart," he murmured quietly, almost a plea.
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"Please," he said, an ascent to the request.
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