AN: Sorry for the long delay in between updating. I've hit a rough patch in my life, the past couple of months and just wasn't myself enough to continue updating. I hope everyone has a great Christmas if you celebrate it and a nice Monday otherwise, haha. I'll see how many chapters I can bang out today, since I'm working anyways...
Billy didn't realize that he had fallen asleep again until he was awoken by a loud banging noise and a muffled "shh!" coming from the kitchen.
"What's up?" he asked, sitting up in the bed. He felt like he had cotton in his ears; the world seemed farther away than usual. He shook his head like a dog and some of the constricted feeling left him.
"Sorry, Billy," Black Hawk called from the kitchen. He held up a pan, looking unusually sheepish. "Dropped this."
"What are you making?" the Kid asked, rolling over on his side. He peeped curiously at the group of immortals in the kitchen- everyone was gathered there except for him and Machiavelli. "Where's Mac? What time is it?" he asked, more to himself than to the others. He fumbled for his watch on the coffee table beside him. "Eleven."
"Niccolo's still asleep," Perenelle told him. She came over and sat on the edge of the foldout bed. Billy was supremely relieved that he had dealt with his morning wood before any of them had woken up, now more than ever since he found himself the center of attention. "We were making you cookies." She rubbed his back. "I'm sorry we didn't find anything out yesterday."
"It's not your fault," Billy said sleepily. "You know, I woke up like four hours ago. I just must have fell back asleep again."
"When'd you guys get in?" Fred asked curiously. "You came back after the rest of us and we stayed up for at least an hour…"
"I didn't look at the clock," the outlaw said, blushing a little. "I lost track of time and Mac kept me company… Wait, did you say you were making me cookies? What kind?" he asked, perking up.
"Chocolate chip. Black Hawk says they're your favorite. I thought he might have been tricking me into making his favorite," she said frankly, ignoring the small indignant splutter from behind her, "but Fred and Langston confirmed so here we are."
"They are my favorite." The Kid's nose twitched. "They smell good." Curling onto his side, Billy made himself into a small ball. He moved around a little. "I can wake up Mac," he said sleepily.
"If you want to," Perenelle said, getting up again.
"I think he'd be annoyed if we let him spend the whole day in bed," Billy murmured. Stretching one leg over the edge of the bed, he leaned further and further over the edge of the bed until he was forced to either fall or get up. "Yes, sir. I'll be right back. Um," he turned around, "I'm going to get changed while I'm in there. Then I'll wake him up." He grabbed his jeans and a shirt, and shuffled off into the larger of the two bedrooms.
Once he was inside however, he tossed the clothes on Fred's side of the bed. "Mac," he whispered, bending over the Italian immortal. "Mac!"
"Oh, what?"
"You should wake up," Billy said quietly, but insistently. "It's getting on in the morning."
Machiavelli slowly blinked up at him. Rolling over partways, he looked to see if Fred was still there. "Where-?"
"Out in the kitchen with the others." The outlaw grinned down at his companion. "Give me a kiss?" he asked, so quietly that he barely made a noise.
"Course," Niccolo agreed, propping himself up on his elbow. They met halfway, the Kid wrapping his arms around the older immortal's shoulders to stabilize him so that he wouldn't tip over.
"Sorry about my breath. Apparently, we both out slept all the others," Billy said in between kisses.
"We got in later than the rest of them. Besides, I was mostly asleep by the time we made it bac." Machiavelli swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stretched before laying his head upon Billy's shoulder. The Kid huffed a little under the extra weight.
"Of course you were tired," the Kid laughed, beaming at him. "I always get tired after I, you know-" Billy make a jerking motion with his wrist. "And we had a lot of fun last night, didn't we?"
"Ah, yes, last night." A flush settled over Machiavelli's cheeks. The outlaw thought it only made the Italian immortal more handsome; he felt a delighted twist in his stomach that he strongly suspected had to do with Niccolo's increased vulnerability.
He threw his arms around Machiavelli's shoulders. "I had fun last night," he said, stammering a little despite himself. "I've never done that before… Did it feel good?"
"Oh, god, yes." Despite his apparent embarrassment, the tactician looked amused at the question. "Something I'd like to do more of… but not right now," he amended with a worried look at the door leading to the rest of the apartment, as though afraid that the outlaw would suggest a second go at it.
Billy however didn't seem to have seriously considered it. He was already standing up again. Pivoting gracefully, he did kiss the Italian's forehead before he moved away from the bed. "We'd better get dressed." He began peeling off layers.
"Uh, how are you going to explain getting dressed in here?" Machiavelli asked, watching him.
Billy grinned, grabbing himself suggestively. He raised his eyebrows with obvious mirth. "Well, we are two men so there's less suspicious already. And I told them I'd get dressed before I woke you up. Look what you do to me," he added, abruptly changing the subject.
Machiavelli kissed him right below the naval. "No time to take care of that now, I guess."
"No, unfortunately not," Billy sighed. He adjusted himself carefully. "I'm going to put on a long sweater don't worry. It'll subside and in the meantime, I'll be covered up."
"Sure, but I wish we could…"
Billy laughed, pulling the door open. "I'll let you get dressed Mac. There are cookies waiting for us." Yawning, he ambled into the kitchen. "Is there coffee too?" he asked, giving them all doe eyes while trying to curry favor.
"We drank it all. You'll have to make more."
"Why are there cookies?" Machiavelli asked, emerging fully dressed from the bedroom.
"Why aren't there cookies?" Billy asked rhetorically, already in the process of cramming on into his mouth. He fumbled around for the coffee pot.
"This is him before coffee," Niccolo mumbled, sitting beside Langston at the island. "Why are there cookies?" he asked.
"How'd you get dressed so fast?" Billy asked him instead. "I literally just woke you up a two minutes ago."
"My wardrobe has been significantly depleted by a lack of laundry. There wasn't much to choose from." He began to make coffee.
"Are you making me coffee too?" the Kid asked, distracted.
"Of course, William."
"Aw, you're my hero, Mac." Billy sat beside Langston at the island. Slipping his hand into the poet's, he gave it a little shake. "You know, it's even weirder seeing you old now than it was to see Fred. And he was my contemporary. But you were just a little boy when I met you."
Langston gave him a half smile. "You saw me growing up over the years."
"Doesn't mean it made sense to me," the outlaw said, shaking his head slightly. "And then there's Mac. All my babies keep growing up on me," he joked, pulling the Italian over to where he was sitting. "I just want a kid."
"Want me to replace the younger me with some random child?" Machiavelli asked, leaning a little against the outlaw.
"No, no… but think about how much fun it would be to have a little kid around for the holidays, Mac."
"Think about how heartbreaking it would be to watch that little kid grow old and die," Machiavelli mumbled back. Billy winced, feeling a unpleasant flutter in his chest. "Ah, I'm sorry, Billy. You shouldn't let me talk before I drink coffee."
"S'okay, Mac. I was just fooling around anyways."
"Mm hm," Machiavelli said, but he was looking shrewdly at Billy and the outlaw blinked, looking away. He couldn't explain the sudden leaden feeling in his stomach…
Perhaps Langston sensed some of the tension that had sudden slipped into Billy. He touched the outlaw's arm, jerking him back to attention. "What's our next step, Billy?"
The Kid lowered his coffee cup, thinking it over. "I don't think we're going to find out anything from this trip. There's no traces of either of my parents… I'm sorry guys."
"You don't have to be sorry," Black Hawk said sharply, turning a chair around and sitting in it backwards. "We couldn't have known they wouldn't be here without putting in some effort."
"I had a feeling though… My mother got sick here. Why would she want to stay here?" Feeling beyond frustrated, Billy ran his hand through his hair, absentmindedly tousling it. "More and more I'm thinking if she's anywhere, she's in New Mexico."
"So, are we going there next?" Perenelle asked from her place by the fridge. She leaned against the counter imperiously and Billy couldn't tell what she was thinking or what she wanted to do next.
"No," he decided, making the decision in the moment he said the world. "No, no, thanks guys. I want to go back to our apartment. I miss Philadelphia. I hate sleeping on the couch, no offense, Black Hawk. I want to spend a nice little Christmas while the season's still upon us. Then… after Christmas… we can start again?"
"That's fine."
Billy looked over at Langston. For the briefest of moments, he saw the little boy that he had known and loved so, then Langston was how he was. He felt a curious sense of sadness. It was like he had been saying to the poet before; he wasn't prepared to see his friends grow old even if they retained their immortality. "Are you going to come back with us?" He touched Langston's cheek.
The African American immortal looked at him, leaning against his hand. "No, I don't think so, Billy. I'll come to visit you again, soon too, but I have some things I should like to do before the holiday is upon us."
~MB~
They'd scheduled the earliest flight back to Pennsylvania they could find. To open up their travel plans much more significantly, they'd agreed to sit in different parts of the plan rather than try to find a flight with enough seats available in first class. Billy felt a bit bad about making Machiavelli sit crammed in the cheap seats, but the Italian immortal made no objections, so the Kid had to put his own reservations aside.
The outlaw was glad to be leaving Kansas behind them- it had been a terrible trip overall- but he found that he didn't want to leave Langston now, not so soon after meeting up with him again after so much time had passed.
"Are you sure you won't come with us?" Billy asked, fixing the other man's collar. He patted him on the shoulder, eliciting a number of looks from passerby, both black and white people. He ignored them.
Langston huffed a little, but he was smiling. "I'm sure. Give me a call though, when you get back to Pennsylvania. I'd like to know you got there in one piece."
"I'm not likely to die," Billy remarked, puzzled.
"I know that. But I'd still like to hear from you, you know?"
"Ah. Yeah, of course." Billy took a step away, towards the others but Langston called him back.
"Billy… Billy, what's going on between you and Niccolo? Anything?"
His stomach clenched. "What? Nothing…"
"Ah, okay. It's just that I thought you might be in love with him." Langston's dark brown eyes searched his. The outlaw stood frozen, indecisive, not knowing what to say. "You do, don't you?" the poet prodded. "I'd like that. He's a good guy, good for you."
The Kid closed the space between them again. Twisting his lip, he gave a shy smile. Langston gave a laugh and Billy begrudgingly laughed himself. "I just asked him out a couple of weeks ago. The others don't know. They don't know, do they?"
"No, I don't think so. Why haven't you told them?"
"I'm not ashamed of it or anything," Billy began, still feeling defensive. Or perhaps, he thought, ashamed of himself for not saying anything about it to the others. "I'm just… I'm figuring it out a big. I never thought I was… was, gay," he whispered, "you know?" He couldn't help but glance around him and he hated himself for doing that.
"No, that's fine. It makes sense. I'm glad to hear it though, really I am. I see the way you look at him. I've never seen you so in love."
"Is it that obvious?" Billy wondered.
The poet rocked his hand back and forth, holding it just above his waist. "If you're worried Black Hawk is going to find out, no, it's not that obvious because he's not the type to consider such a thing. It's him you're really worried about, isn't it?"
"It's not that I think he would disown me or anything… He'd probably be fine with it…" Billy couldn't seem to get a full thought out. "I haven't figured out how to tell him yet. And he's my best friend, except for Mac. I can't tell the others until he knows, right?"
"Yes, that does make sense." Langston sighed. "Alright, kid, well god knows you'll find a way to make it all work in the end. Don't you worry about it for a minute, alright? You deserve this."
He nodded. "You won't tell the others though, will you?"
"Course not. I would never out you like that."
Billy grinned. "I love you too, you know. I'm glad our paths crossed, all that time ago." Hearing the others call to him, he grabbed Langston around the shoulders in a one-armed hug and kissed him above the ear. This time, he definitely got some disapproving stares from passerby, but he didn't pay attention at all; grabbing up his carry on, he ran for the gate.
