Disclaimer: This didn't happen. Ever. I don't know these people.
Feedback: That'd be great. Especially constructive criticism.
Betas: Reisling and Jeanette.

Billy listened to the departing footsteps and voices of the crew and knew that as soon as they were alone, Dom would let slip the dogs of war. His head fell forward onto the scratchy bark of Treebeard's hand and he breathed in the scent of glue, paint, and sculpting foam.

They used to be such good friends. They used to be best friends.

"You went out last night?"

Billy awakened and realized he had fallen asleep with the catering team's offering of tea and biscuits still miraculously gripped in his hand. He turned sleepily to Dom. "What?"

"Last night. You went out?"

He sounded so casual, Billy simply stared for a few seconds. He cleared his throat and took a slow sip of his tea. "Uh...Aye, yeah. Went out," he replied at last. He stretched to sit up straight and winced. His legs, his arms, his chest, even an unknown little muscle in the back of his neck hurt. He ached all over. Not even weapons training was as strenuous as a night with Orlando. To be fair, it wasn't generally as satisfying either.

"Cool." Dom swallowed a mouthful of tea. "Where'd you go?"

"Oh, uh..." Billy hesitated. These were not the dogs of war he'd expected. If dogs at all, these were puppies, but more likely kittens. But then, kittens could be sneaky. "A film. Me and Orlando went." Billy bit off the edge of biscuit to hide the heat in his cheeks.

"Did you go see the new horror flick that's out? It's, like, `Face Snatchers' or something."

"No, we saw some stupid girly thing. It was pretty bad." Billy took another bite of his crumbling biscuit. He caught the crumbs in his palm and swiped them off with his tongue.

"I was talking to Pete about `Face Snatchers' yesterday. He knows the producer and the guy who plays the lead face snatcher. He said those guys are good."

"Nice." Billy nodded slowly, and deep inside, he dared to hope. Maybe he and Dom were over this and could return to normal. Maybe Dom had just had a pisser of a day � or month � and had needed time to cool down.

"Would you wanna see it this weekend?" Dom asked.

"Aye, sure. That could be fun."

Dom smiled, his eyes averted. "Saturday, maybe?"

"All right. Wanna see if Elijah and Sean can go? Make it a hobbit thing?"

"Uh, well, not really." Dom shrugged. "I figured just you and me. There's an eight showing. I thought we'd meet up at six, maybe get a bite beforehand. There's this nice, like, French place near the cinema. I figured Kiwi French food might be an interesting experience."

The tea scalded his tongue as Billy swallowed it too fast, but he fought not to react. He knew the restaurant Dom was talking about and it was not a place mates went together. It was of the fancy tables and roses variety; the sort of place he went with Orlando now. He looked across at Dom.

"That sound good?" Dom asked.

Billy drank carefully. "Bit pricey, don't you think?"

"It's on me."

Dom glanced shyly down with a shrug of his shoulders and Billy scoffed. "What are you pullin', mate?" Billy asked.

"Nothing." Dom looked back up, confused. "What? Why? Are you and Orli exclusive or something?"

"What? No." Billy blinked, shaking his head in a daze; he didn't even know what to make of that question and felt thrown off-kilter to have heard it. "I don't know. I didn't know � it's just... What? What's going on?"

Dom turned toward Billy, wincing at the movement. A few biscuit crumbs fell to the floor from his hand. "For fuck's sake, Billy, I fancy you, okay?" he said. "Figures you'd make me fucking say it."

Billy stared and gave only a passing thought to how odd it was to have a mate tell him he was fancied when, by the angry sound of his voice, it seemed Dom didn't even like him very much right now. And he didn't like him. He didn't. Billy made a soft tsk noise with his mouth and rolled his eyes. "Quit taking the piss, man."

"I'm not."

"Bollocks. Not funny, mate."

"I'm not trying to be funny. If I were trying to be funny, you'd be laughing, wouldn't you?"

Billy shook his head. He swallowed thickly against the heart lodged in his throat. "I don't believe you."

"Jesus, Billy."

"Jesus, Dom," Billy parroted. Irritation slicked through him, but he'd felt this particular sort of irritation enough to know that it only ever covered fear. Dom had to be joking. Dom was joking.

Dom stared at him, mouth open, seemingly flabbergasted and not a little bit angry. "What � why � I don't get why you don't believe me."

"Because you've barely spoken to me for a month? Could that be why?" Billy rolled his eyes again and forced down another sip of tea.

"I was pissed! I didn't think you were gay and you didn't tell me."

"I'm not gay!" The words came out sounding desperate.

Dom's eyes narrowed. "Well, you're doing a shit job of acting like it."

"Yeah, well. Since when are you?" Billy bit back.

"I told you about that time with that mate."

"I know, I didn't forget. You said that was a one-time thing."

"It was," Dom said.

"Well?"

"And then we dated for a year."

"Ah." Billy nodded and the proverbial wind dropped from his sails. "Got it." He looked down into the translucent brown of his tea and the bits of biscuit mingling with the dregs at the bottom. His stomach turned sickly. "So, do you think you're, like...?"

"Yeah, I think I might be." Dom bent the cardboard of his cup of tea with a soft thunk.

"I'm sorry, mate," Billy said, then mentally kicked himself. "I mean, I'm not sorry that you are; that's cool; I'm just..."

"Yeah, I get it," Dom said bitterly.

Billy opened his mouth to speak, to say anything to break apart the painful knot in his chest and dispel the sharp flavor on his tongue, but the door opened with a clang and in seconds, the room buzzed again with crewmembers. Dom stuffed the last of his biscuit into his mouth and downed his tea. Billy handed the rest of his back to the catering attendant uneaten.

Billy held perfectly still in Treebeard's grasp, listening as the crew below fired up the hydraulics. Dom dangled across from him, but he didn't look at Billy. Instead, he picked at the fake moss on his mechanical perch and sat in silence. It was the weight in the silence and the conscious effort not to look at him that was the worst. It made Billy heartsick to not be friends with Dom. It felt off to not talk to Dom. Everything felt wrong.

"You boys ready?" A voice called up to them.

"Hm? Aye," Billy responded. Across from him, Dom muttered an affirmative.

Two hours later, they broke for lunch and Billy's appetite wasn't any better. He shuffled on down the food line, his mind everywhere but on the empty bowl in his hands. As soon as he'd been freed, Dom had walked off without a glance and Billy had watched him while the crew cautiously unhooked him from Treebeard. He couldn't decide if he was disappointed or relieved that he'd missed the chance to follow Dom or to talk to him, so he wandered to the catering tent, letting fate decide if they would cross paths.

Dom fancied him.

It was such a bizarre notion, Billy wanted to laugh at it. It sounded like something he would say to take the piss. Aye, yeah, mate, Dom fancies me, don't you know! That's why he � why he...

...fixes the edges of Billy's Pippin cloak when it's twisted and shares his water even when Billy could have gotten his own...

Billy stepped back down the line to grab the spoon he'd forgotten, his mind fighting to think about topics less distressing. He loaded his bowl with a slopped spoonful of that morning's leftover porridge. It was thick and congealed, but still hot. The scent made his stomach wake up and growl and the warmth felt distractingly good in his hands.

...listens attentively to any music Billy says he likes and takes the time to read the great poets Billy mentions in passing...

Billy breathed in the dull, oaty scent of his porridge. His heart thundered in his chest. He had assumed that was the way Dom was, who he was: an affectionate guy and a constantly joking, hilarious idiot, who took interest and pleasure in the people around him. It never once occurred to him that Dom might have been flirting.

"I'm supposed to be going out with second unit tomorrow."

The flat voices of the crewmen around Billy filtered into his mind through the haze as he lifted the bottle of honey.

"Not looking forward to it?" a second voice asked.

Billy received a cursory nod in greeting from both men as they helped themselves to sandwiches and crisps. Billy knew the smile he'd given them in reply must have looked a bit unfriendly, but they didn't seem to notice, so he chose not to care. He had accepted a date with Dom, apparently, but he didn't know if Dom would hold him to it, or if he wanted him to. Billy drizzled a line of honey across his porridge.

"You kidding? That Clifton guy's in second unit. He's a faggot."

The haze in Billy's mind broke and something heavy and sharp sank slowly down inside his chest. He tensely set the container of honey back on the tabletop.

"He come on to you?"

"He comes on to everybody. Shit."

Sweat prickled at Billy's neck and, with his porridge in his grasp, he walked away from the catering table. His footfalls felt clumsy and unnatural as he walked sightlessly toward the fluttering canvas door.

"Billy!"

Billy's eyes snapped over to see a Legolas-ed Orlando waving him over. The something sharp and deep in his chest sank deeper and grew sharper. He turned back toward the exit and fled into the sun.

Within a few shaky yards, Billy found a quiet corner beside the trailers where he could hunch over with his cloak around him and eat his porridge. He'd never particularly liked the word, but now, it sounded especially vile in his head. It filled him with an odd panic that made him want to snog the next girl who walked by and brag loudly about the fiery lass he'd picked up in a pub a couple years ago, his one and only one-night stand. But when one of the sexy Elfmaidens did walk by, Billy was struck motionless as he recalled with startling clarity the desperate moaning sound he'd made just that morning when Orlando had sucked on his earlobe.

Faggot.

Suddenly, the brilliant night he'd had with Orlando and the memories of it were covered in a dirty, viscous screen, like a coating of scum, making it seem sick when it wasn't and feel wrong when it hadn't been. He wondered, as he blinked into the sun, trying to clear his mind and its visions, if that's what people would call him if they knew the thoughts he'd had about Orlando, if they knew of the things he had done with him. He wondered if this Clifton fella would pat him on the shoulder and see him as one of his own, or if maybe he'd look at Clifton and instantly feel a kinship. Maybe they would stand side-by-side united against the prat in the catering line. Or maybe Clifton really was a letch who made passes at everyone. Maybe Billy would hate him, too. Maybe he wouldn't want to feel a kinship with him.

Billy let his head drop, his face resting on the edges of his bowl. His nose nearly dipped into his porridge and he breathed with his eyes closed. He didn't want to unite with Clifton or the prat. And he really, really, really didn't want to be called a faggot.

Face in his bowl and thoughts in his heart, he didn't hear Orlando approach until a hand slid across his. "You okay, mate?" Orlando said softly.

Billy's head snapped up and he shoved Orlando away, barely keeping hold of his porridge. "Shite, what're you doing out here?" he demanded. "What're people gonna think with you followin' me about?"

"That I wanted to find out what was wrong with my friend, like I told them." Orlando's voice had hardened in an instant. "Jesus, Billy." He laughed unhappily and rolled his eyes before standing. He looked down at Billy, a towering blond-haired beauty in a blue bathrobe. His eyes seemed to be examining, disbelieving. Then, he turned to walk away.

With every step Orlando took, Billy felt his lungs constrict. "Orlando, wait!" he gasped.

Orlando stopped and slowly turned. His face was tight with irritation.

"Come back here. Please. I'll beg." Billy dropped off his seat onto his knees. He set his porridge on the grass. "I beg you. Please, come back. I'm an arse." He moved forward, his knees pressing into the dampened grass, arms outstretched. "I'm a stupid, fucking, scared, stupid arse. I said stupid twice, did you hear that? That's how stupid I am." He tugged his knees forward until he knelt right in front of Orlando. He grabbed pleadingly onto his friend's crossed arms. "I'm a prat, I'm an idiot. Please, don't go. Stay, please. Please, please, please? Three pleases!"

Orlando looked down at him and raised one eyebrow. "What are people gonna think with you on your knees begging me to stay?"

Billy peered up at him. The sun shone down just behind Orlando's head, leaving him in glimmering shadow, an unearthly beautiful light. Billy felt a strange pull at his heart and was surprised to find that beneath every fear, there always lay a deeper one. "Nothing that's not true, anyways," he said.

An affectionate smile stole its way to Orlando's lips despite his struggle against it. "Come on, you idiot, you prat," he said. "Your food's getting cold." He started back toward Billy's chair with Billy shuffling on his knees right beside him. "Oh, man, you're such a hobbit."

"I've gotten quite good at this, haven't I?" Billy hopped a bit on his knees before rising up to reclaim his chair.

After Billy had finished his porridge, they walked back toward his makeup trailer, their shoulders brushing lightly as they walked. "I had to park in that second car park across the way, so I'm, like, back by the trees," Orlando said. "I'll wait for you by the car after shooting."

"What if I get out before you do?"

"Then you wait for me by the car." Orlando playfully nudged him. "This isn't that complex, Billy."

"Aye, right." Billy pulled open the trailer door, thinking that Orlando had just given him advice he'd needed to hear months ago. He left the door hanging open behind him for Orlando to follow and climbed the steps to find the room empty, as expected.

"Anyone else here?" Orlando asked.

"Nah. They're not usually back yet." Billy plunked down into his chair and let out a long sigh.

"Good," Orlando said.

Billy froze when he heard the provocative clink of the door. Orlando's casual question, it seemed, was not so casual. Billy raised his eyes and blinked dismissively at Orlando's confident, predatory look, even as he felt its effects all the way down in his toes.

"You know..." Orlando walked closer. "I've been feeling dirty all day."

"Oh, really?" Billy bit his bottom lip gently and his knees separated of their own volition, letting Orlando's hips slide smoothly between them. Instantly, Billy felt like a warm, sensual liquid; sex in human form; his body responding to Orlando like a bowstring in his hands. "Why's that?"

Orlando's palms braced against the seatback behind Billy. His eyes did a long, slow dip and rise along the seated length of Billy's body. "I've been having the worst sort of thoughts about a little hobbit."

Billy looked to Orlando's gently parted mouth; he craved the feel of it. "What kind of thoughts?" he asked.

"Well, I was thinking..." Orlando lowered his eyes and neared Billy's lips with his own. Then, immediately jumped back and fell into the seat behind him when the trailer door clicked open again. Billy sat up straight and pulled his Pippin jacket over his lap, which proved to be less quick to act casual than Orlando, who now sat with legs crossed and blithely swinging.

But it was Dom who entered and he wasn't fooled for an instant.

"Oh, hey, Dommie," Orlando greeted.

Dom yanked the door shut behind him with more force than necessary. The trailer rocked with the motion. "That's my chair, Orli." Dom glared at Orlando and Billy had to acknowledge, there didn't seem to be any unspoken attraction in the look. It was just pure, solid dislike. Maybe Dom really did fancy him, of all people, and not Orlando.

"Oh, right." Orlando shook his head and hopped out of the chair. "Right. And I must always defer to you. I keep forgetting." He turned to Dom, bending at the waist in a decorous bow. "Your chair, my liege." When he walked past, he let his shoulder slam hard against Dom's in the confined space. "I'll see you later, Bill," he called at last, walking down the steps and out of the trailer.

Billy nearly snorted. If all of this was over him, it didn't get funnier than that.

"Dick," Dom grumbled. He dusted off his seat as if Orlando left behind some residue he didn't want to touch.

"He's not a dick." Then, Billy shrugged. "Well, not usually, anyway."

"Yes, he is, Billy." Dom's peered at him out of the corner of his eye as he took his seat. "He's a fucking dick."

"And you're not?" Billy replied, adjusting his jacket on his quieting lap. "Neither of you were real princes right then."

Dom shook his head and climbed into his chair. "Whatever." He leaned back, his seat creaking with the motion. "So I checked the paper and `Face Snatchers' actually begins at seven-thirty. Is half- five too early for dinner?"

Billy let the frustrated sigh out of his mouth without checking it. "I don't get this, Dom. Why do you want to go to a film with me?

"I just do, okay?" Dom snapped. "Does half-five work or not?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't fancy spending an evening with a bloke who's gonna be pissing in my beer all night! Look, I'm sorry you're gay � shite, no, I'm not sorry about that because it's a perfectly good thing to be and I'm very happy for you, and rainbow flags and all that � but shit, Dom. Shit."

Dom watched him, his head cocked for more information. "Shit, what, Bills? You didn't actually say anything."

"Just � fuck it. I don't want to do this." Billy kicked his chair around, swinging to face the mirror. The high-pitched squeak of the metal made his ears burn, but he didn't rub at them the way he wanted to, he didn't even let himself wince. He saw his angry, red- faced reflection and quickly looked away.

"Why not?" A glance showed Dom's face to be equally red and angry. "You gonna be fucking Orli that night or something?"

"Maybe!" Billy glared at him. "Maybe, I might. None of your business, is it?" He leaned forward to grab his water bottle off the counter, taking a swig to give himself something to do with his irate energy. As soon as the water touched his tongue, he realized how thirsty he was and chugged down half the bottle. Dom watched him silently, making Billy feel self-conscious of the movements of his throat as he swallowed. Lowering the bottle, he met Dom's eyes. "You got a problem, mate?"

Dom sneered. "Fuck you," he said, and turned his chair to face the mirror.

Filming that afternoon was great fun. Merry and Pippin chatted from Treebeard's hands, happy, hobbity best mates and cousins as always. The word "Cut!" became a magic word that transformed cheery Merry and Pippin into sullen Dom and Billy. Ah, acting, Billy thought; it truly is an artform.

Billy felt grateful when the day was done and he could abandon fake innocence for the glower he wanted to wear. He changed out of his costume, handed his feet over to a Weta person, and fled the building without even removing his makeup. He had cold cream at his place and he wanted this work day to end. He couldn't stand being with Dom for another second in such revolting, unnatural silence.

He was almost to the far car park when he heard Dom calling for him.

"Billy! Bills! Wait up, man." Billy walked several more feet before his conscience made him stop. Dom came huffing up beside him in jeans, a t-shirt and his Merry wig. "Thanks, mate," he breathed, and smiled, a friendly, genuine smile.

Billy was so taken aback, he felt angry. Dom had been frowning and sneering all afternoon, and now here he stood smiling as if the world were divine and their friendship weren't fractured down the center. Dom grabbed a hold of him and held him fast when Billy started walking again. Billy shook him off, but turned to him just the same. His mind calculated the distance to Orlando's car, how long it would take to drive to his place, how long it would be before he could be locked away in his own house, separate from all this drama and hurt, away from all of them, alone.

"I'm sorry, all right?" Dom said. "I was being a wanker. It's totally none of my business who you shag, and I can see why you'd like Orli � sorta. I mean, I like him, too. Sometimes. When he's not being a dick."

Billy inhaled impatiently, keenly aware that, under other circumstances, he'd laugh.

"Nevermind, forget I said that. I shouldn't have said that." Dom continued earnestly, "I just think we make more sense, you know?" His blue eyes seemed to match the darkening sky behind him, the rain clouds rolling in. "We've been best mates since that first day. I mean, fuck, that first night we did that whole routine at the pub with the beer mats and the peanuts, had everybody fucking laughing their arses off. First night, Bills. First night. That shit doesn't happen all the time, you know? I mean, I have never had that with someone." Passion strung every limb, making Dom stand tall, arms tensed even as they gestured. "God, I've fucking dreamed of having something like that with someone. Haven't you?"

Billy's mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. He felt memory stir. This whole moment, the way Dom looked to the sky as if he might find the words he needed on the clouds, everything seemed recently familiar. He recognized this scene, a dizzy d�j� vu, and it made his body tingle unpleasantly, like electricity in the air.

"I know you have," Dom said when Billy didn't answer. "Everybody has. Everyone wants that connection with someone. That's what it's all about, isn't it? Talking to people, falling for people � it's about making that connection. We have that connection, Bill, think about that. Just think about how fucking rare that is, man."

Billy heard a familiar scrape-scrape of footsteps and his heart sank. He couldn't even spare a moment to puzzle over his recognition of the rhythm of Orlando's walk; he was too dismayed by the arrival. Not now, not when Dom stood right here to see Orlando come to meet Billy, holding thoughts of having another amazing, sleep-deprived night. Billy wanted to find a balance, he wanted to keep them both, but the hardened, hurt look on Dom's face destroyed that possibility. Dom's eyes flickered over Billy's shoulder at Orlando and they sharpened.

Billy angled his body only slightly, keeping Dom in his periphery, but glancing back at Orlando. Orlando stood by the car, keys in hand, and waited. He bore a weighty, anxious look on his face and cast Billy an expression that said, "Take as long as you need, mate. Just don't take too long." He fidgeted with his keys and leaned against the car. The movement caused a strange flutter in Billy's chest. He noticed right away that Orlando didn't choose to leave and come back later; he didn't defer to Dom, and he gave them only the privacy of averting his eyes. If Dom looked for a fight, he'd find it.

"This is so stupid." Billy muttered the only thought in his head. All of this, over him. "Totally fecking stupid."

"Come on, Bills." Dom's light eyes returned to Billy and the openness and hope in them made him appear strangely young. A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "Think about it." He stepped closer as his voice lowered, an effort to keep his words from Orlando's ears. "I've thought about it and I'm not sure that, you know, that I could feel about anyone the way I do about you. I know I couldn't. `Cause there's no one like you, you know?" Dom swallowed and his shoulders lifted, scared and brave. "I want to be with you, Billy."

When it started to rain, Billy suddenly remembered. He knew where he had seen this scene before, only then it had been a woman and she had come running out of her home, flowered skirt blowing dramatically in the pre-storm wind, calling after the childhood friend she had always overlooked. That was how it had happened in the silly romantic film he and Orlando had seen on their second date. She had run out, confessed her love, he confessed his, and they fell into each other's arms in a kiss to swelling music while butterflies � literally, butterflies � ignored their natural instincts and hung about in the rain. The first raindrop hit Billy's cheek and he knew had no confession of love to give.

Dom must have seen the realization in his face because he stepped forward, one more plea on his lips. "Just a try?" he said, and something wet edged at his eyes that wasn't the sprinkling rain. Billy's felt a distinct pain shoot through his lungs. Dom continued, "I'm not asking for anything big, Billy, come on. One date." The scatter of raindrops wetted Merry's curls to his forehead, making him look clownish. Billy glanced about, hoping no one would see Dom like this, and knowing that Orlando did. Orlando, who stood behind them, waiting. Billy dared a glance back.

Orlando looked nervous and irritated as he watched from the car, and the truth that revealed itself to Billy, the simplicity he couldn't see before, was that Orlando had a right to be. Billy was his boyfriend, and his boyfriend was standing there, considering going out with another man who fancied him. He and Orlando had finally gotten here, and having gotten to the top of this steep and tedious fucking mountain, Billy wanted to just be, to stand at the summit and breathe the thinner air, look at how far he climbed and remember why he'd been so scared of this height; remember and keep going anyway. Even if Orlando would understand why he went with Dom, Billy had felt something last night and as frightened as he still was about giving it name or voice � as frightened as he was about others giving it or him a name he didn't want � he'd felt it and it would be wrong to leave now with anyone but the man he'd come with that morning. The stunning truth was, he didn't want to leave with anyone else.

He closed his eyes a second before looking back to Dom, knowing he couldn't even give him the comforting assurance that, if he were gay, he'd want him, because whatever he was, he wanted to be with Orlando. There was no way to soften what he had to say: I don't want you.

"C'mon, Billy," Dom said, as if he were inviting him over for a night of crisps and footie, but his eyes darted warily to Orlando. "We'll talk."

Billy faced Dom and suppressed the apologetic shrug he felt rising in his shoulders. "I �" he stammered. He backed up two steps, trying not to look in Dom's eyes, afraid of what he'd see. "I have � I'll see you later, man, okay?" Then he turned and walked tensely to Orlando, a shuffling coward's walk. He moved wordlessly to the passenger side and climbed in. He didn't look back.

As they drove out, Billy leaned over, his face in his hands. The sky unleashed, lashing the car with rain, perhaps lashing Dom as well as he stood alone in the car park. The gaping, horrible, hollow sensation in Billy's gut made him feel hungry and nauseated at once. He wanted to cry, but the hurt wouldn't rise that high. He admonished himself in his mind: You're an asshole, you're a traitor, you left your friend standing in the fucking rain; but nothing worked. Nothing made the tears rise or the regret in his heart grow sharper. "Shite," he muttered. He wiped at his dry eyes, sniffed and looked out the window. He wanted nothing more than to go to Orlando's house and curl up in bed with him until he either fell asleep, forgot everything, or became so hungry, they had to move to get food. He wanted to listen to the rain, breathe in the calming smell of Orlando's house, and not think.

"Can we go by my place, get a change of clothes?" Billy felt his voice crack, but hoped it hadn't been audible. "I want to stay with you tonight."

Water pounded furiously against the windshield. Billy's body lurched as Orlando pulled the car over and pressed abruptly on the breaks. Before Billy could wonder, he found a shirtsleeve against his face and arms wrapped awkwardly around his body as Orlando hugged him. Billy lifted a hand to gently pat Orlando's arm. "Thanks, mate," he said. "But I'm okay."

"I'm not hugging you for you, you prat." Orlando squeezed him tighter. "I'm hugging you for me."

Billy laughed lightly and closed his eyes. A bit of wetness dampened his eyelashes as he did. "Then do it properly," he said. Eyes open, he reached over and shifted the car into park. "What half-arsed kind of hug is this?" As Billy turned off the ignition, Orlando leaned back to remove the keys and take his foot off the break, and then Billy found himself absorbed in an embrace once more, a strong, enveloping one.

The rain clattered against the roof as Orlando's breath blew warmly against Billy's neck. Billy pressed his face against Orlando and inhaled him, finding more comfort than he'd expected in the mingled subtle scents of soap, sweat, and smoke.