BloodMoney Oneshots (Billy X Weasel)

Stare

Billy found himself admiring the con-man from across the hall, the dim lighting shining off Albert's pale skin. The prison should have been pitch black, it was way past lights out. But the Weasel did indeed live up to his name. He would listen for Ferguson's footsteps, flicking off his cell light just before he rounded the corner and noticed Albert had been staying up late and drawing.

Billy knew he could easily be seen if Albert looked up from his sketchbook, the light from his cell spread across the hall to the hitman's and probably bothering the little woman in the cell next to him. She was mean though, no one truly cared. She was in here for murder as well, she was being a "Karen" as Albert put it, pulling out a gun and shooting the poor cashier because they didn't have the right kind of soup in the store.

Billy just watched, intrigued at the speedy delicacy of Albert's movements. He was already nearly done with his drawing, just adding some final details, but as fast as he worked, his art was beautifully detailed, and his movements were graceful. Billy had to admit, it was nice that the arsonist found something meaningful in this cold, stone prison. Billy had found no such thing yet, struggling to keep his already mangled mental health afloat.

Suddenly, Albert looked up at the hitman, confusion etched in his face. "Why do you keep staring at me?" He whispered. Billy was caught off guard, searching the smaller males eyes for a moment in shock. He decided not to answer and instead shook his head gently. Albert held his gaze, curiously examining Billy's sky blue eyes. Billy, unbeknownst to himself, was just staring into his neighbors eyes with an unreadable expression. It was intimidating, but somehow Albert seemed to enjoy it.

Albert quickly broke eye contact and flicked his light off, putting his book down and curling up under his thin sheets. Billy failed to notice this, still processing being caught staring when Ferguson passed by. "What are you doing up, Handsome?" He asked.

"Just woke up from a confusing dream." Billy replied. He just reacted, he had no clue why he chose that excuse or how he came up with it so fast when he wasn't even focused on the real world. Ferguson nodded and continued his walk.

"Nice" Albert whispered as the guards footsteps faded away.

"I-i dunno what that was.."

Albert smiled slightly, locking his multicolored eyes with Billy's once more. Neither of them noticed when Ferguson came back around, looking back and forth between the two of them. "You guys okay?" Neither man responded, they seemed lost in their own world. Ferguson snapped his fingers in front of Albert's face, looking slightly concerned as the arsonist finally looked up, his face instantly flushing.

"Oh, um!"

"Go the fuck to sleep?" Ferguson snapped, the confusion in his voice making it sound more like a question. Both men lay back down until Ferguson passed, but they didn't sit up again. Albert seemed to actually go to sleep, but Billy couldn't help but admire the man, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand. He was a bit shorter than Billy, probably the shortest male in the prison. As slim as he was, his features were still well defined. His jawline was scare, but much softer than Billy's. His blue and green eyes were wide and had a shape that made him look innocent. Of course, the con-man was far from innocent, committing grand larsony and arson isn't exactly a petty crime. But his body, through usually concealed by his thick, blue coat, was oddly feminine. He had muscle to him, of course he looked like a man, but his waist was slimmer in the middle, giving him a shape simmilar to an hour glass, only visible if you were really looking.

Billy was never truly into men like Albert. He liked guys of his own heavy set stature, well built bodies seemed to attract him, though he could never actually be open about it. This is the 1930s after all, "his kind" wasn't widely accepted by society. Still, he found himself admiring the Weasel's slim fingers as he shifted in his sleep, gently making his hand into a half fist and sliding it up more towards his head.

Billy blushed as the arsonist, who he thought was asleep, moved his head and looked up at the hitman. "You're still staring." He whispered.

"S-sorry!" Billy replied. He looked away, not wanting to make the con-man uncomfortable, but found himself looking back once he heard Albert's breathing slow down. He had really fallen asleep this time, and something drew Billy's attention back to him. He just couldn't stop staring at him, though he feared seeming like a creep. He was a murderer, but he still had standards. Creeps and peds weren't welcome in the world, in Billy's mind.

Snap.

Billy shot his attention to Ferguson, now looking more annoyed this time. "You got a crush, kid?"

"No! Ew!" Billy snapped, twisting his own face to a glower.

"Then quit staring at the poor guy and go to sleep, damn it's three in the mornin'!"

Was it really that early? Billy could never keep track of time in this prison, no clocks in sight, his only signal to the time of day being the sceduals. Billy took one final glance at Albert, face instantly softening. He found himself smiling, not knowing exactly why. Slowly, he lay himself down on his right side, covering himself up with his sheets and slowly drifting off to sleep.