Warnings: Language, but nothing out of the ordinary for this series now.

Disclaimer: This didn�t happen. Ever. I don�t know these people.

Beta: Reisling, Robyn, Jeanette and Kira � my powerhouses. Thanks as always, friends.

Billy dreamt that Dom threw cherries at him. Dom would pry the little fruits out of the jar, lob them at him, and he had to catch them in his mouth. When he did, they would laugh and cheer and bump chests, but when he didn�t, Dom would get the saddest look on his face as if the fallen cherry had crushed his childhood pet. Once, when Billy picked up the cherry, dusted it off, and ate it anyway, Dom said to him, �That�s kind of gross, you know. You don�t even know where that�s been.� Billy countered that he did: it had been in the jar, then briefly in the air before it had hit the ground and strangely, it was really the ground of which he was uncertain, not the cherry.

When they all got together that night at Elijah�s, their host was in the mood to teach everyone about the values and brilliance of his favorite bands; therefore, he and his bands became pleasant white noise behind the more dominant conversation. The five of them sat around talking for a while, throwing back beers and spitting out jokes. The circumstances of life, and perhaps the memory of too many fallen cherries, had dulled Billy�s wit. It was still there and he got in a couple of good ones, but they weren�t nearly as effortless as they usually were. Instead, he could feel every turn of the gears in his mind as they laboriously churned out a comeback seconds before the window of opportunity closed on his face.

Dom sat next to Orlando on the couch, his arm stretched across the back of the cushions, curled around Orlando�s shoulders, but he didn�t touch him, not constantly anyway. He punctuated every moment, every beat of the conversation with a hand to Orlando�s shoulder, or through the Mohawk atop his head, or to the curve at the base of his neck, and with every touch, he glanced at Billy, as if he were silently saying, �See this? He could have been anyone�s.� Billy felt sick to his stomach.

In their better days; hell, now that Billy thought about it, it might have been in their first days, those first few heady weeks when he and Dom had stayed up late nights talking to one another, having the sort of hilarious, personal conversations that give the word �friendship� some sort of weight in a man�s priorities. On one of those nights, Dom had told him, in a quiet voice by the light of the whispering stereo, about a fling he�d had with a mate during a show�s run. Too much drink one night, too much laughing, and they�d ended up having a great, long snog and jerking each other off. He�d been pretty, that�s what Dom had said, pretty and tall with a great sense of fashion. Since that youthful dabble in alternative sexualities, Dom said he�d only been with women, but considering that Billy had only been with women his entire life, that didn�t calm his mind. It seemed Orlando was developing a habit of turning straight men gay.

The more movement on the sofa that Billy detected out of the corner of his eye, the more his conscious thoughts turned to how wonderful it would feel to scream out an insane battle cry like �Skleeehaa!� and launch himself at Dom, bodhrans a-beating and pipes a-squealing like in proper Scottish warfare.

Not very gentlemanly behavior at all, and it rather ran the risk of making Orlando think the fight was all about him.

Dom laughed at some joke Elijah had made that Billy hadn�t heard over the insane battle cry in his head. He slid a knee onto the couch to rest against Orlando�s thigh. Angry heat flooded through Billy�s veins and though he felt his face flushing red, he knew the more appropriate color would be green. Stupid jealousy. Maybe Orlando could have been anyone�s, maybe Dom was right and that was true, but in his core, Billy couldn�t believe it. Even if Eve had shown up for their date, or it had been Elijah instead of Orlando who met him there in the restaurant when he sat all alone, this would have happened eventually. Somehow, he and Orlando would have found their way to the bathroom floor. Billy was sure they would have.

The way he and Orlando talked, the way they�d come together; Orlando couldn�t have had that with anyone else � because Orlando didn�t feel that way about anyone else, just like Billy. That had to be how it was. It wasn�t a romance of opportunity, or convenience, or even experimentation. It was just...

Billy looked up to see Orlando laughing, his eyes glancing over to share the laugh with Billy.

It was just a romance.

Billy was certain Orlando knew that, too. He had to.

�Fuck a duck, I�m hungry!� Elijah hit stop on the CD player, so everyone knew this was serious. �Somebody call it.�

�Pizza!� Sean called it.

�All right. Anybody have, like, allergies or stupid diets we need to know about? Orlando?�

Orlando�s jaw dropped in feigned indignation, and then closed again with a smirk. �Just get a plain cheese, smart arse.�

�No mushrooms,� Dom said. �Not one single fucking mushroom.�

Elijah rolled his eyes as he flipped through the bills in his wallet. �You and the fucking mushrooms, man.�

�They�ll kill me, �Lij. I�m not kidding.�

But he was, Billy knew that. Dom wasn�t allergic to mushrooms. He just hated their consistency when they�d been cooked.

�Sean, come with me. I�ll need help carrying.� Elijah claimed his jacket and headed for the door. Sean followed. He pulled the door closed with a click.

Instantly, Dom�s eyes narrowed and his gaze rose to the ceiling. His whole body tensed. Beside him, Orlando snickered. �What are you doing?�

�Ssssh,� Dom hissed. Outside, a car engine putted to life and wheels crunched through gravel. Dom leapt off the couch, using his palm on Orlando�s knee as leverage. �I think I know where �Lijah keeps his smokes.� He disappeared into the back hallway by Elijah�s bedroom. �He hid them after I took a whole pack last time,� he called back to them.

Billy sensed Orlando glancing over at him, but he didn�t look back. He felt as though binds held him rigidly to his chair. He and Dom and Orlando alone in a house together...he was pretty sure he�d had this nightmare, right before the one with the cherries.

�Ah-ha!� Dom shouted. �God, he�s awful at hiding shit.� Dom reemerged from the back of the house with a fresh pack of cigarettes in his hand. He tore off the plastic cover and tossed it on the ground. Silently, he slid out a lone cigarette and tucked it between his lips. Billy waited with sick anticipation for him to sit back on the couch beside Orlando and cozy up to him again, really throw himself into the performance now that the uninformed bystanders had left, but he didn�t. Instead, Dom sat down in the armchair directly across from Billy, leaving Orlando alone in the center of the couch.

Dom lit his cigarette and took a drag, leveling Billy with a dead serious gaze. He moved so deliberately, so smoothly he had the aura of a James Bond villain. �So are you two gay now?� he asked.

Orlando laughed casually, and glanced at Billy. His awkward smile fell when he saw Billy�s less nonchalant response. Aye, Billy thought, telling Orlando might have been a good idea; he looked like maybe he would have appreciated a bit of warning.

�What�s going on? Are you guys, like, dating?� Dom crossed his legs. The smoke trailed from his cigarette in a single, perfect spiral. �Or is it just fucking?�

Billy could feel Orlando�s eyes on him, but couldn�t bring himself to look back, or even to look at either of them more directly that what his peripheral vision showed him as he stared at the table. Elijah�s beer had left a ring of condensation on the wood, and Orlando wasn�t happy about this turn of conversation.

�Just the fucking then.�

�No,� Orlando replied quickly. His head turned toward Billy. �I mean...� He looked away again and shook his head. �Whatever.�

�So what is it, then? C�mon.�

Orlando shifted on the couch, setting his bare feet on the carpet. Billy stared at the circle staining the table and discoloring the wood finish.

�Hellooo?� Dom waved at them, his cigarette creating a swirling mess of smoke. �You guys there? I�m talking to you.� He huffed a laugh and took a casual drag on his cigarette. �Is it, like, stress release? Or were you just curious how it feels to take it up the ass?�

Orlando let out a long breath that Billy knew was only ever accompanied by his lips thinning to a small, irritated line. He crossed his legs and one nude foot tapped unconsciously, bouncing at the edge of Billy�s sight. Billy wasn�t completely sure who had earned most of Orlando�s anger, Dom or him.

�Well,� Dom said slowly. �You say it�s not just fucking. Actually, it was just Orli who said that. What about you, Bill? Hey. Yooohoo, Bill. You gonna join in the conversation? Is it just fucking for you?�

The circular stain on the table shuddered with Dom�s foot coming to rest on the table�s frame. Billy continued to stare at it as it stilled once more. For fuck�s sake, he swore at himself. Where�s your fecking tongue? Gone on holiday?

�Are you guys in love or something? Soul mates?� He elongated the vowels, made them sound ridiculous and infantile. �Is that what it is for you, Bill?�

Billy felt Orlando turn to him again and without even a thought, his legs shoved him up from his chair, tense and shaking. �I�m gonna get another beer,� he said. �Either of you want?� He let his footsteps carry him swiftly around the back of the sofa, trying to ignore Dom�s disbelieving cackle.

�Oh, my god, Bill!� Dom shouted. �You�re freaking out already?� He laughed long and loud. �Holy shit.�

Billy strode into the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator door, not seeing anything even as he stared at the contents. He heard Orlando padding up beside him, feet slapping on the tile floor.

�What the hell?� He leaned toward Billy in the cold draft of the fridge to better conceal his lowered voice. �What did you tell him?�

�I didn�t tell him anything,� Billy whispered back. �He saw us snogging out the window.�

�When did we snog out a window?�

�At the window,� Dom supplied, leaning smoothly against the jamb of the door. �Your kitchen window.�

Orlando glanced at Dom, and then wheeled back to Billy. �Why didn�t you tell me?� he asked quietly, but Dom stood too close for any attempt at discretion to succeed.

�Now, that,� he said pointedly, �is a good question.�

�Shut your hole, Dom.� Billy glared into the fridge.

�Hey, don�t get mad at me. I�ve been very good. I haven�t told anyone your dirty little secret.�

�It�s not a dirty little secret.�

�It�s just a secret, right.� Dom nodded.

Billy�s eyes roved over the labels of the beer, catching only one or two words at a time, and none from the same label. Premium. Ale. Lite. It was like he was staring at the sodding Rosetta stone for all he understood.

�Have you told anyone, Orlando?�

�Does it matter?� Orlando replied.

Dom slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke. �Color me curious.�

�You don�t get to be curious about this shit, Dom.� The bottles in the refrigerator door rattled as it shifted in Billy�s grip.

�Well, I am, so deal. So who�d you tell, Orli? Anyone?�

Orlando glanced between them. His gaze came to a stop on Dom. �I mentioned it to Viggo.�

Dom raised his arms in anticipated astonishment. �See? There you go. He told Viggo.�

�You mentioned it to Viggo?� Billy asked. His heart leapt immediately into his throat to take up a frantic rhythm. �How do you �mention� something like this?�

�Why does it matter what I �mentioned� to Viggo? He�s my friend; I trust him.�

�Something like what, Bill?� Dom interrupted. He took one eager step nearer. �I still don�t get what you guys are doing.�

�Get a beer or close the door,� Orlando said testily. �You�re letting all the cold air out.�

Billy let the refrigerator door close with a thump and took a bold step toward Dom. �Why do you need to? How is it any of your business anyway?�

�Maybe I think Orlando deserves better.�

�Like you?�

Dom cocked his head dismissively. �He�s a good-looking enough bloke, has a pretty nice arse, in my opinion. I�d be braggin� to people about landin� him, so what�s your problem?�

�I don�t have a problem.�

�Then why haven�t you told anyone? You�d think you�d at least tell someone?�

Billy glared at Dom, and then shifted his eyes to Orlando. Someone knew; someone else knew. �What did you tell Viggo?�

Orlando rolled his eyes as his jaw jutted in anger. �What do you think I told him? What would you have told him?�

�That he�s fucking you,� Dom said.

�No! I wouldn�t have said that.�

�Then what, Billy?� This time, the question came from Orlando. This time, the question had a right to be asked.

Billy�s eyes flitted to Dom and he was given a smile and a wink. Suddenly, Billy understood: this was Dom�s one-man show and Billy was the fiddle.

He shook his head. �This is bullshit.� He stalked away, back into the living room, knowing full well that Dom and Orlando would follow and he didn�t even have a beer to show for his trouble. �I don�t want to play your fucking mind games.�

�But it�s so much fun!� Dom said.

�Sod off.�

�God, Dom, why are you being such an asshole?� The knife�s edge in Orlando�s voice likely paled in comparison to the one in his eyes.

�Asshole? Jeez, Orli, how can you be such an idiot?�

�He�s not an idiot!� Billy snapped, and realized from the look on Dom�s face when he turned that he�d failed some test he hadn�t known he�d been taking. Billy shrugged. �Okay, he�s a bit of an idiot...�

�Hey!� Orlando stared at both of them with his eyes wide and incredulous.

�You�re not wondering at all why he didn�t tell someone?� Dom continued. �Not even a little? I thought you had more, like, self-esteem or whatever. You�re honestly taking this secretive shit he�s giving you?�

Orlando�s dark eyes flitted over and they didn�t look angry like Billy had expected. They looked curious and concerned. Correction: Dom�s one-man show and he had two instruments.

�God, Orlando, don�t listen to him. He doesn�t even know anything.�

�I know you,� Dom countered.

Billy glared at him and spat the words, �No, you don�t.�

�I know you better than you think.� Dom�s eyes narrowed arrogantly. There was something threatening in his tone, something that made Billy believe him; words laced with malice and all the knowledge of friendship in his arsenal.

Dom held Billy�s stare for a long, heavy moment, then it lightened and he turned to Orlando again. �You didn�t even wonder why he didn�t tell me, at the very least?�

Billy lowered his head, rubbing his forehead roughly. His hands trembled. He couldn�t think, he could barely breathe. All he could feel was a rising, suffocating anxiety filling his body. Dom knew, Viggo knew; people knew. This wasn�t just him and Orlando anymore. This wasn�t simple.

�Let it go, Dom.� Orlando shook his head, his body tense.

�What? You don�t want to know? I�d want to know.�

�Yeah, well, surprise, you�re not me. Let it go.�

�Jesus, you guys are such fucking cowards! How do you have any fun without a single pair of bollocks between you? �

�Just shut the fuck up, Dom, all right?� Orlando�s voice grew tight and short.

�Aw, come on, man.�

Billy looked up to see Dom sliding his hand along Orlando�s angled shoulder and he felt the heat rise in his face. He aimed an angry glare at Dom. �If you wanted him so goddamned much, you should have done something about it, mate. You�re the fucking coward.�

Dom sighed impatiently. �Yes, yes,� he said flatly. �This is all about my jealousy because I want Orlando for my very own and it has nothing to do with the fact that you�ve been nancing around all secretively, acting like a fucking fag, and haven�t told me anything!�

�Why should I have told you?� Billy shouted, responding in kind to the escalation of Dom�s volume.

�Because I�m your best mate.�

�Being my best mate doesn�t make you my bloody diary! There�s all sorts of shite you�ve never told me, so why should I tell you everything?�

�I have told you everything, you jerk! So be a fucking man for once in your whole stupid life. Is it the shagging? Are you smitten with our Orli here?� He slapped Orlando on the back, knocking him forward a few steps. �Madly, passionately and all that rot?�

Billy felt as though he were beating his head against a wall. He let out a frustrated groan. �God, Dom, what the fuck is your problem?�

�Everybody just shut up!� Orlando interrupted and the tang of his voice left little room for argument. Billy exhaled; he was tired of arguing. Orlando looked at him and Dom in turn. �I�m tired of listening to you two.�

�Well, what if I�m not tired of talking? You�re done, so we�re all done, is that how it works? Fuck that, you narcissistic prick.� The pale blue of Dom�s eyes seemed less of the sky and more of ice; there was hatred in that gaze.

Billy turned to look at Dom, just look rather than blindly stare while seething as he had been for the last twenty minutes, for the last three days since Dom had found out. Dom glared at Orlando, his head pridefully raised, jaw tense, and his cheeks flushed with rage.

Orlando stood dumbfounded under the scrutiny. �Jesus, Dom,� he breathed, and it sounded to Billy like his voice almost cracked, either from anger or hurt. �What did I do to you?�

Dom looked away, jaw still tight, and he shook his head. His lips turned down in a disgusted grimace as if he had to look away to keep from vomiting. �Stupid prat. Don�t make yourself the fucking victim.�

�Since when has there been a victim?� Orlando asked, but no one was given a chance to reply.

Headlights flashed across the wall as Elijah and Sean pulled in, and Billy couldn�t free his mind from its catatonia before they swept through the door with the scent of pizza wafting after. �We come bearing pizzas,� Sean announced.

�What are you guys doing?� Elijah wandered past them with an amused expression as he made his way to the kitchen, the pizzas held against his chest. The three of them stood squared off against one another, stances tense and defensive. Elijah slowed to a stop when they didn�t move. �Guys?�

Dom lowered his eyes and shook his head, revolted. �Nothing,� he answered, and turned to walk into the kitchen. �Did mine come without mushrooms? If there�s a single fucking mushroom on my pizza, we�re sending it back.� He strode right past Elijah, who still stared at the other two.

�You guys okay?�

Billy�s stomach turned strangely, a bad strange, an almost painful strange. He glanced at Orlando, but found he couldn�t meet his eyes when Orlando looked back.

�Yeah.� Orlando�s voice sounded rusty. He cleared his throat and said again, �Yeah. Can I help you with the pizza?� Without waiting for an answer, he took the box from Elijah�s hands and disappeared into the kitchen.

Elijah glanced after him, and then took a few steps toward Billy, his eyes wide with concern. �Hey, Billy, man. You okay?�

�Aye, yeah.� Billy coughed. He clapped a hand to Elijah�s back and tried to smile. �It�s nothin�, man. Don�t worry about it.� He walked into the kitchen, Elijah by his side. He felt Dom and Orlando avoiding his eyes more than he would have felt their gazes; the weighty feel of discord on his skin, pressing down on the air around them. Even Sean and Elijah felt it. They looked between the other three.

�All right, you guys. What the fuck is up? What happened?� Elijah asked. �Did someone insult Manchester or whatever that team is?� Dom gave a half-hearted laugh and took a small bite of his mushroom-less pizza. When no answer more profound came, Elijah rolled his eyes and grabbed a piece of pizza. �Whatever. Go outside and beat each other up, if you need to.� There was no humor in his tone and Billy knew that the argument, though silenced, had claimed another man. At this rate, Sean was doomed.

Glancing at Elijah, Billy picked up a slice of pizza. His hand brushed across Orlando�s as they both reached for a plate. Billy lifted two plates and handed one to Orlando, letting his thumb linger on his hand. He didn�t know why he did it, but some instinct told him he should, that there was something he needed Orlando to know.

�I think I�m gonna go,� Dom said quietly.

Billy thickly swallowed the morsel of food in his mouth, feeling it move dryly down his throat as he stared at his pizza.

�You sure, mate?� Elijah asked.

Dom set down his slice. �Yeah. I�m kinda tired.� He wiped his hands on his jeans, but didn�t meet their eyes until he raised his head with a grin that Billy knew wasn�t genuine. �I�ll see you mad bastards tomorrow.� He walked out of the kitchen, grabbing his coat as he went. The rest of them stood awkwardly in the quiet he left behind in the room, but that was nothing compared to the resounding noise he�d left in Billy�s mind.

Billy couldn�t shrug and dislodge Dom from his shoulder and he couldn�t make his questions go away simply by finding a loophole in the logic. Orlando had told Viggo. When he could think past the churning in his stomach, Billy understood that. Orlando looked up to Viggo, he thought Viggo wise and insightful; he was the perfect person for Orlando to have told. And in the space of a second, Billy wondered why he hadn�t told Viggo, why he hadn�t told anyone. Except that was the way he�d always been.

Dom was right. He was a coward.

�I�m off,� Orlando said, dropping his plate in the sink. He rinsed his hands at the faucet.

�I�ll walk you out.� Billy ignored Orlando�s surprised expression and whatever expression Elijah and Sean might have given him as he trailed Orlando out of the kitchen.

As they passed through the living room, Billy cursed the odd, unsettling fear that seemed to lie dormant along his neck and in his stomach, waiting to climb slowly upward like the Devil scaling his back. This isn�t right; the thoughts would drift to the surface of his mind, so foul and poisonous, they stabbed at his gut. You want to end up with a girl anyway; thought after thought. It�s causing problems with Dom. It�s causing problems with work. It�s causing problems with you. Billy bit his tongue and shook them off.

�Hey, would you want to go out?� Billy asked casually as they stepped into the silence outside. Their steps crunched across the sparse gravel toward Orlando�s car. �Second date? I figure I owe you since the last one wasn�t so great; closed McDonald�s and all that.�

Orlando hesitated, taking slow, deliberate movements to slide his jacket onto his shoulders. �What about Dom?� he asked.

�Well, considering how things went tonight, I don�t think he should come.�

Orlando looked skyward and popped open the door of his car. �Look, Billy, call me tomorrow or something, all right? I don�t feel like dealing with this right now.�

Billy forced himself to reach forward and touch Orlando�s hands, and it made him so angry at himself, at his whole damn life that such a simple action took such concentrated effort. Acting on feelings should be easy, it should be the most natural thing in the world, but his fears gave him gravity and they made raising his arm a strain on his muscles. He touched his hand lingeringly over Orlando�s on the top rim of his car door, his palm on warm skin as his fingers whispered over cold metal. Orlando turned to him, listening, waiting.

The gear-driven assembly line in Billy�s head offered up another exquisitely manufactured ribbon of wit, but now Billy saw it for what it really was: armor. And he�d been protecting himself from what he wanted for too long.

He shoved his hands back into his pockets, his eyes on Orlando�s tattered trainers leaving prints in the dirt. With effort, he fought gravity and lifted his gaze to met Orlando�s. �Go out with me? Please?�

The door teetered in Orlando�s hand and he sighed loudly. Billy consciously fought to keep his eyes from flicking back to see if Elijah or Sean could see them. Now, of all times, Orlando shouldn�t see him waver, not if Billy really wanted this. And he wanted this so badly.

Orlando�s eyes closed with a shake of his head, a rueful turn of his lips, then, he looked back to Billy. �When?� he asked.

Billy sighed, astonished by the relief that poured through him. He didn�t have time to check his answer before it came spilling out in all its honesty. �I don�t care. Whenever. Name the time, I�ll be there.�

Orlando smiled slightly and his eyes flickered away, but they flickered in a good way, in a way that made Billy�s stomach swim pleasantly again. �Call me tomorrow,� he said, much softer this time. �Okay?�

�I will.�

�G�night.� Orlando slid down into his car and shut the door.

�Night.� Billy stepped back to watch him drive off.

And then, he remembered he had to go back inside. Elijah was his ride home.

He walked slowly back up to the front door, through the living room and back to the kitchen, where, predictably, Elijah and Sean sat eating pizza. Billy approached cautiously, trying to detect from their faces if they�d seen anything.

When he stepped near, Elijah glanced up. �You beat him up?� he asked.

Billy smiled genuinely. �Aye, of course.� He cocked his head as he took a swig of his beer. �That prissy Elf.�

After Elijah dropped him off at home, Billy went through his nightly routine with a blank face, a blank mind, and an aching heart. He�d overtaxed a system not used to acting like this, not much used to acting at all outside the stage and off the set. When he curled up under the bedcovers, he lay there, staring into the darkness. He tried to stop it, but his brain wouldn�t listen: Over and over again, it went through what he should say tomorrow when he called Orlando, how to make a second date sound like the must-see event of the year. It wasn�t really working, and for one instant, Billy considered not calling. He could tell Orlando that he�d gotten caught up on the set; Orlando would accept that. And never accept anything from Billy again, probably. It would have been in Billy�s favor if Orlando were actually an idiot because then, Billy wouldn�t feel the tabulation, the ever-growing count of the mistakes he�d made so far, and how few he had left before Orlando stopped coming back.

Billy threw aside his covers and grabbed his phone. His fingers shook as he dialed the familiar number. His heart pounded so erratically, he decided he should call a doctor in the morning just to make sure that that was normal, and he wondered, distantly, dimly, as he listened to the eternal ringing of the phone: Is this what being brave feels like?

�Hello.�

Because it sucks.

�Hey, Orlando? It�s after midnight. It�s tomorrow.�