47redbirds | After the fires before the flood, my sweet baby, I need fresh blood

After the fires before the flood, my sweet baby, I need fresh blood

Mike is a number of things. Secretive, oddly retentive about the chore wheel, Brigg's second-in-command, and smart as a whip. He also trusts Billy. Maybe not implicitly, but he does. It's been a while since Billy's first task, and while he still stays by Mike's side for the most part, the crew's beginning to respect him, too. Not just Johnny--Jakes had made a point to shake his hand after a particularly hairy getaway between him and the Chechens.

Mike starts drinking with Billy after a good run. He's damn good at pool and can hold his beer for someone who looks so straight-laced, even with scruff. Boy-band or not, the only personal thing that wound up causing a stir outside what they do is Mike punching someone in The Drop because they were harassing a girl. For a criminal, he's oddly well put together.

It's one o'clock in the morning when Mike texts him. It's nothing but an address to a motel and a room number, but when Mike texts it's mandatory Billy shows up. Another exercise, maybe. Another deal. The whole Graceland group had been very careful with Mike--most of the stuff he was a part in he either never got to actually see the transaction or it was far too minor. Not all the heat is off of him, it seems, but he's trusted. Mike trusts him enough to send him the text. It's the room to the corner, and it's run down and shitty. When Mike opens the door, it looks like he hasn't slept in days despite the fact that Billy was asked to get him out of bed since Paige wasn't there. He's also smoking, which is both disconcerting and never seen before.

There's something else, though, and it's not just his hair pushed back from his face. The white tank top he's wearing is spattered with red liquid, as is his chin. His hands are covered, even the one holding the cigarette while he exhales and lets the other in. It's blood.

Once Mike closes the door, it's immediately apparent why: there's a girl in the bathtub, the tiles covered as someone stabbed her more than a few times, and on the bed a man. What is probably a man judging from the fact that he's naked--his face has been mangled, it seems, by a rather large number of bullets to the face as well as a champagne bottle.

Mike takes another drag of the cigarette.

"Thanks for meeting me here."

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"Fine," He says softly. "Ten minutes." Ten minutes and Billy would either leave him alone or they could do... Whatever.

The problem is, as Mike adjusted and tried to gently push Billy off of him so he could lay down, is that Mike wasn't really sure what he wanted from all of this. Billy was attractive, competent. But was this still his own guilt? Did he genuinely like the guy?

...And what about that nagging voice that tells him that Billy's somehow wrong? That he has to be careful, especially around him?

"Ten," He repeats, trying to push that voice away. He doesn't need it. Not bothering him, not now. Not now that he's with Billy. He'll fill Paige in, but Mike has the feeling Paige will just laugh and ask if she can join in.

Billy moved so Mike could lie down. He moved off of Mike's lap and kicked off his sandals. "Fifteen," he stressed, "And we can do what ever it is you want after. Completely your choice." That is, assuming, Mike was even still awake by that point.

Billy moved to tug down the covers, so they could get properly cozy. "I'll even stay right here with you. Just to make sure you don't try to sneak off to work." He gave a wink and a smile, just to ensure Mike knew that wasn't the only reason he was sticking around.

"Ten," He says softly, and as Billy winks Mike smiles. He's all boyish charm, looking more like a teenager being asked to prom than someone who's killed quite a few people in his lifetime for little reason.

"And there's no way I'd sneak off if it's just ten minutes." he's yawning his sentence already, closing his eyes. He would, though. Sneak off or at least sit up and ponder even more about work. His plans. It's a good thing, for the moment, Billy is even teasing about that. "Just.... ten." He's already nodding off completely.

Billy can't help the warm smile that spreads over his face. The ruthless killer as easy to coax into a nap as a child. He crawls in beside Mike, settling down under the blankets. A hand comes up to stroke Mike's cheek as asserts the time again. "Alright," Billy concedes, "Just ten." Knowing Mike would be dead asleep before they got even close.

Billy himself felt sleep tugging at him, and couldn't deny that feeling of warmth as he watched Mike. One thing he hadn't accounted for, however, was that the effect he was hoping to have on Mike would happen to him as well. Not only the drag of sleep, but the subtle effects of falling sleep together.

It's not ten minutes. Ten minutes turns into a solid hour, which turns into two and by the half-hour mark of the third is when he finally wakes up. He doesn't jolt out of bed, either, which is odd when Mike has a lot on his mind.

He had dreamed. Mike dreams a lot of things, but none of them particularly pleasant, especially not when he'd killed a man a day prior. For some reason, he finds himself dreaming not of the blood or the body, but of Billy and him surfing. Mike didn't even like to surf but it was still oddly calming. The rest of the Graceland gang was there except Briggs, and no one could remember why.

Mike has somehow slung his leg over the other, oddly intimate, and was facing Billy as his blue eyes open, groggy and weary.

His headache is gone, thought. And that's when he lifts his head up and shifts his weight, trying to figure out what time it is.

Even before he'd fallen asleep, Billy had wrapped an arm around Mike's torso, drawing him closer. But in their sleep, he'd tangled himself completely around the other man. He hadn't expected to fall quite so deeply asleep himself, since he'd managed to squeeze in a few hours. But listening to Mike's slow rise and fall of breath, he was lulled into deep slumber as well.

For possibly the first time since he'd he'd taken on this job, he slept without awful dreams. There were pleasant snippets, but those slipped away from him even before he woke, leaving his sleep quiet and restful.

It wasn't until Mike stirred that he even started to wake. Slowly piecing consciousness together. He made an incoherent sound, a vague question, as one eye slowly opened. The other would have, as well, but his face was more or less buried in the pillow. He muttered something that between the pillow and his semi-consciousness was difficult to understand but was meant to be "So much for ten minutes." He curled his arm tighter around Mike, pulling him closer.

Mike frowns, finally finding the clock. Immediately he groans, and for a second he thinks he's channeling Johnny by his first thought being 'I want to sleep in' rather than 'I want to chase a clue.' Then again, with the daily stress of the household's lives, most of them either slept in light spurts or just lay practically comatose for over 10 hours.

"This is your fault," He accused, though judging by his small smile on his face and sleepy eyes, he actually doesn't mind as much as he thought he would. Alarming. Or would be, if he cared at the moment. He was wrapped around Billy, or rather Billy had been wrapped around him, or something like that. The point was they were close and Mike had to barely talk so the other could be heard. It was nice, resting his voice. It was nice resting period.

"I think it's around dinner time...Ugh." That would mean going downstairs and dealing with people. Right now, all he wants to do is lay in bed and do pretty much nothing. Even though he definitely, definitely should.

Billy's smile grew at the accusation, broad and warm and completely unapologetic. The smile of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, even if he got caught in his own trap. "Might've been intentional..." he murmured.

He shifted, moving more onto his side so he could nuzzle closer to Mike. Dinner could wait. Because dinner meant moving out from under the covers. And after the night before, and the roller coaster of his thoughts since he'd woken up, the warm bliss beneath the blankets was quite possibly the best feeling in the world right then. "I'll buy everyone pizza," he offered, tucking his head against Mike's shoulder.

"You gotta tell Briggs that," Mike murmured, bringing his body away from the other just enough so he had room to rub at his eyes and yawn rather loudly. He even left his belt on, if undone, not realizing at all how he'd actually just knock himself out.

"Shit," And suddenly he sits up, or at least, half-attempts to. He doesn't get very far, mostly because of Billy, and thumps back down with a thunk that sounds oddly hollow for someone build like him.

"I actually have stuff I need to do, too." More like 'wanted to be there in case people fucked up,' but that was fairly obvious knowing Mike's personality. He doesn't hover per se, he...

No, no he hovers. He definitely hovers.

Billy reached up to run his fingers through Mike's hair as the other dropped back down. He just smiled, letting Mike making his complaint. "What exactly do you gotta do, hm?" He raised both eyebrows. "Apart from staring at a map until you go cross-eyed?"

Billy's fingers trailed down Mike's neck and over his chest. "I'm guessing you already know the details inside and out. The answers'll come to you, I have no doubt of that."

In that Billy realized that maybe this wasn't just about helping Mike find the answers. If he kept the other distracted there might not be more bloodshed for a little while. If he kept Mike off track for a little bit, his team could hopefully use his report to find whoever killed Whistler. Handle it legally and without murder.

billy talking to him link this, giving him some sense if normalcy.... It was nice. Really nice. Mike doesn't bother to hide his smile.

"We should go on a date," he says suddenly. "A real, honest to god date. Whenever your next day off is, I'll pick you up at eight. Flowers and shit, you know."

The suddenness of the proclamation made Billy blink. A date? That was a rather sudden and extreme leap to make. And not at all what he'd been prepared for. Had his ploy for the nap and the subtle effects been stronger than he'd planned? He just wanted Mike to feel something good after everything with the night before. Was he so starved for such things that he automatically leaped to such dramatic things?

"Won't the bossman be troubled, losing his bodyguard and chauffeur for a whole night?" He meant it as a joke, but also to sidestep the need to tell Mike to slow down. One step at a time. Mostly, Billy didn't want to get too involved and have to break Mike's heart when this all came crashing down.

"I'm not a fucking prophet," Mike states, but he's not actually angry at the other. It's more of a resigned tone, eyes closing for a few moments. Billy was right. He needed to step away from it.

"Sometimes I think this house is burning," He says quietly. "And it's up to Briggs and I to keep putting out the fires." That much was true, no matter which way you looked at it--for as much of a family as there were, there was an incredible tone of drama. Almost too much in Mike's opinion, even though sometimes Mike started it himself.

He pats the other's cheek before forcing himself to sit up, yawning.

"Which is what I have to do. I figure soon enough you're going to get caught in some form of crossfire, too."

A small smile formed on Billy's lips, soft and warm. Objectively, he knew he shouldn't be touched by those words. That he just needed to fake it, to get into Mike's good graces, to get closer to Briggs. All for the mission. But the way he felt, it felt far too real.

Billy sat up as well, leaning back against the headboard. "And if I do," he said reassuringly, "I can handle myself. It wouldn't be my first time being in the crossfire. Literally or metaphorically."

His hand came up to take Mike by the chin as he leaned over to kiss him. Soft and gentle.

Mike looks surprised, if only for a brief moment, but he kisses back with the same sort of odd tenderness the other had. Whatever they had now, it was strange, but it worked.

For now.

He's waiting until it blows up in his face, just like everything else. "I hope so," He mumbles, and it takes him a few more seconds before he's stood up. Not going to take that advice, it seems, and he stretches languidly before moving to the door.

"You coming?"

Billy watched Mike get up, not budging from his spot on the bed. He had to admit that the view was certainly nice, and found his thoughts wandering. To what the view might look like without so much in the way of clothes. It was almost strange to think of such things so casually after all they'd been through so very recently. But he liked to think he could let those things roll off him like water off a duck's back. He certainly wasn't just forcing them down and forgetting them. Not even a little.

"Might be better if I wait a bit. Wouldn't want to raise any suspicions before we've...consummated anything, would we?" His eyebrows lifted suggestively, but his tone was almost teasing.

"Sure, sure, but I'm fairly certain after everything you've done? No one gives a shit who you fuck." It's meant to be nice and casual--Mike smiles, widely, and sort of half-waves since the other says he's not going to be moving.

He leaves, but not without a faint smile at his bed.

Yeah. He can get used to this.

Billy was so accustomed to seizing opportunities when he saw them that he leaped on this one before he thought it through completely. It was clear to him that Mike wanted it. Between the kiss out on the peer and everything in the bedroom before they slept. He read the situation and ran with it, trying to tell himself his own feelings had nothing to do with it.

"Hey," he says as Mike starts to step out the door. "They might not care, but they still talk. Might as well make whatever rumors they're gonna cook up at least somewhat based in reality." He folded his arms behind his head, giving a suggestive wink.

Mike had opened the door, at least, before turning around at the other's words. His eyebrow raises, a small grin not quite forming but not leaving his face, and he slowly closes the door.

"This is coming from the same guy that just wanted me to take a nap," He states, and it's a little hard to tell if he's teasing or serious about his apprehension.

Billy gave a shrug, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He could just let it go. Dismiss the whole scenario and let Mike get back to work. But this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for, wasn't it? A chance to solidify his place in Mike's good graces through his core skill set. It had nothing to do with anythign at all personal.

"Maybe I just wanted you well rested for my own nefarious purposes." A smirk played over his lips. Nevermind that it had been Mike who had been so pushy for such a thing before they napped.

"Your own nefarious purposes," Mike echoed, and reaches behind him to actually lock the closed door. He looks at Billy, hair mussed, laying on his bed, and while the other mock-frowns he can't help but actually grin, pleased at this whole thing.

"You, Billy McGee, are a terrible liar," He announces, crossing to the foot of the bed, His arms move down to the corners, gaze firmly on the other. "Your purposes aren't nefarious in the least. You think sex is scandalous?"

Billy did what he always did when it came to this sort of thing. He shut off the part of his mind that rang alarm bells that this wrong. He was willingly offering himself to the body guard of a powerful mob boss. Logically, that seemed like a bad plan. But it also shut out any warnings of personal conflict. Really, that's how he ended up so deeply involved with a pyromaniac who ended their relationship by burning everything he owned, including the four walls that contained it all.

"Well, that depends," Billy said as he pushed himself off the headboard, leaning toward Mike. "If sex is just sex, then it's not," he pushed up onto his knees, crawling closer. "It all depends on your...tastes."

"Mm-hmm," And as Billy moves closer, Mike leans down, faces inches away from the other. Eyes narrowed, but not with their usual curious paranoia. It's something else entirely--the same look he gave the other earlier, dragging him up to his room.

"My tastes are pretty simple, McGee. I like beer, I like money... And I like a nice ass to grab once in a while. You gonna have a problem with me grabbing your ass, Billy? I'd hate for that to be the case."

Billy slid his arms over Mike's shoulder's curling loosely around him. His smirk was playful and teasing. Come on, Mike. He needed more to work with than just that.

"Of course not. But if that's all you've got in the way of taste, you're a far simpler man than I've assumed you to be." He leaned closer still, enough for his breath to be felt over the other's lips.

Mike laughs. He can still be the play boy, the tough guy, the marine--which was a complete lie, as he's sure Billy knows by now--but when it comes to stuff like this?

Well. He's no virgin and he doesn't like pussyfooting around this shit, no, but the teasing he could probably do forever. Honestly, he could care less who tops and who bottoms, but he's sure as hell gonna make Billy work for it regardless.

So what, he's a slave driver. Sue him.

That breath over the lips does it, though, and as Billy curls around him Mike is immediately kissing the other, hard and needy but alarmingly sensual, taking his time with every single kiss as his hands move to run up the other's arms.

After the fires before the flood, my sweet baby, I need fresh blood

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(From Mike cause Kat's net blows)

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