To Heal All Wounds

Billy Hargrove vs The Puzzle of Eddie Munson

It happened so fast that Billy didn't have a chance to recoil from the touch. The sharp almost-sting of it sent an edge of clarity through Billy that was so crystal it made him dizzy and he fought the ridiculous urge to thank Munson for it.

But instead, he lifted himself from the couch and took the offered card table from Steve so that he could busy himself doing anything but unpacking the way Munson had turned his anger into desire without him even knowing it had happened until it was too late. The work was a welcome distraction, cooling his skin and his nerves no matter how simple it was. The happy tittering of the girls and Steve's playful ribbing of his best friend helped as well.

Billy was almost back to normal when Eddie offered, "If I know my Chrissy," in a voice so saccharine that Billy had no choice but to investigate, "she's the one hitting on Robin. Isn't that right, Sweet Thing?"

And then Chrissy laughed. She laughed and so did Robin. They both laughed like they knew something and Billy was getting very tired of not being let in on the joke.

He was about to say as much when he noticed the way Robin covered Chrissy's rosy face with her slender hand. Noticed the way Robin tucked that rosy face into the crook of her neck affectionately. Noticed the way Chrissy curled her arms around Robin's waist in a gesture that was too intimate to be friendly.

And he noticed the way Munson's expression softened when he saw the girls.

He caught Munson's eyes a moment later and resisted the urge to ask the question that Munson was dangling in front of him. The other man was testing waters, same as Billy was. And yet, Billy couldn't help but feel like Munson was risking more than Billy. Perhaps he was. Because Billy was still a possessive, territorial son of a bitch, and any animal, when its territory was threatened, could and would lash out. And Billy didn't share his things. Munson was trying to confirm that.

Steve snapped at Robin to go get the chairs, breaking Billy of his train of thought. Shockingly, the woman complied, leading Chrissy away by the hand and leaving the three men alone with one another. Silence fell heavy between the three of them, Steve visibly working out the same question Billy was decoding and Munson glancing between him and Billy as though waiting.

When he finally spoke again, it was soft enough to avoid shocking anyone.

"My table-setting skills may not be what you're accustomed to from the Harrington Estate," Steve scoffed and fell into what must have been his natural stance with his hands akimbo on his hips, "but I can at least do so suitably enough for pizza."

And then he was gone, as though escaping from something. Steve muttered something under his breath and laughed, but Billy didn't catch it. He was too caught up in the way Steve's hair flopped when he shook his head and the tilt of his lips as he smiled. He was too caught up in what that smile might feel like against his own lips. Or his throat.

"I umm..." It drew Steve's attention from the corner around which Munson had vanished and back to him. Billy hadn't realized that he didn't like not having that attention until that moment, but suddenly it was like he could breathe again. "I think I found my mentor."

Again, Steve physically reached for the change in subject as he leaned against the table in a very familiar stance. It was strange to see him leaning against his palms with a card table under him and no apron draped across his front, but the effect was the same. His body fell into ease at the familiarity and Billy melted in front of him, pinned to the table under Steve's gaze.

The small breath of "oh" that escaped Steve's lips nearly beat the breath out of Billy, but he maintained his composure. Even through the thrumming of his own heartbeat slamming against his chest.