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Billy knows the signs in the aftermath, but more than that he knows what will set it off and he can’t always be there to prevent it, try as he may - and he does try. So he is quite proud of having found ways of making it all better for those times when he fails.
It’s been a rough day of unexpected dangers and close calls Billy wasn’t able to deal with. It gets to him every time, that feeling of not being enough; whenever he sees how it affects Goody in the aftermath, when the tremor starts, when his eyes go glassy and distant; and Billy knows what lurks behind them, trapping Goody inside of his own mind.
When the alcohol fails to dispel jittery hands, as it has failed in the past, and Billy’s words can’t penetrate far enough to drive away Goody’s demons he slinks off to prepare something he knows does work.
He asks one of the girls working in the saloon to help him prepare a bath for mister Robichaux in his room. He’d made sure there would be a bath when he got them the room, or rather he got Goodnight Robicheaux the room - Goodnight looming behind him with a faraway look in his eyes would have slept with the horses for all that he was able to care in that moment - the assumption Billy left the proprietor was that Billy was simply getting a room for his employer and would presumably leave and find somewhere else to sleep.
Goody has strong feelings about Billy pulling this sort of ruse, always the first to defend and proclaim their equal standing; and Billy suspects that that is why it doesn’t bother him to play the part sometimes - after all, he doesn’t care what other people think of him, he cares what Goody thinks - just enough for other people to make assumptions he should find demeaning; but he knows it works and why not use the things he knows he works if he is getting what he wants in the end?
So he gets Goody a room and it’s not like anyone is going to notice Billy still being there, no one is going to come knocking on the door later, demanding that Billy leave and go sleep in the stable or wherever they deem fit for him. In the morning he and Goody are leaving anyway.
Once the tub is filled with water so hot steam rises from it Billy asks the girl to please go fetch mister Robicheaux and tell him his bath is ready. Billy takes the time until he arrives to prepare some final things.
When Goody steps through the door he still looks haunted - though the alcohol has given him a rather fetching flush to the face and neck, he notes in the back of his mind - and it twists Billy up inside. Goody’s joy is Billy’s joy, his pain and his sorrow is Billy’s pain and sorrow; much like Billy’s joy is Goody’s, and Billy’s pain is Goody’s. Goody had told him that once, in a quiet moment just the two of them underneath a tree by a brook, Billy lying with his head in Goody’s lap looking into deep blue eyes as Goody declared his love and how they were to share their lives together. Billy can’t recall the moment without wanting to reach out and touch Goody.
And so Billy reaches out and Goody, despite the faraway look just a second ago, locks eyes with him and steps forward so that Billy can put his hands on him - so solid and frail at the same time - as much as this whole thing is for Goody, undressing him; well, that is for Billy. It’s a bit like unwrapping a present just for him and he pushes buttons through buttonholes until he can help Goody pull his shirt off and then just runs his hands over Goody’s chest down to a soft stomach.
He is so warm and alive underneath Billy’s hands, and something he hadn’t really been paying attention to - so preoccupied with thinking about Goody’s mental state - settles down in his stomach, because Goody is here, he’s alive and Billy gets to undress him and reassure himself of it by touching him.
He sinks to his knees, helps Goody take off his boots tossing them towards the door, before he unbuttons Goody’s fly and starts pulling down the trousers, letting Goody’s cock spring free. Billy hadn't known until he met Goody that his mouth could water at the sight of a cock - he does only have his reaction to Goody's cock to go on though, so it is entirely possible that it is just a situational, or rather personal reaction to Goody. He's not about to go around looking for other cocks to test this - nor that want would stir so strongly inside of him, but now it is expected.
"You are such a lovely sight, cher." Goody says, voice rough from alcohol and a little bit unsteady but the emotion is all there.
Billy looks up at Goody and there's still a tightness around his eyes and mouth, though his pupils are widening, darkening with something like lust, despite his hands still shaking a little as one strokes Billy’s cheek.
Billy knows he's here to chase away that jittery energy, to chase away dreams that follow Goody into the waking; but he can't help himself from having a little taste, licking and sucking lightly on the head of Goody's cock before taking it in his mouth. It's musky and salty. The Billy he once was wouldn’t believe how much he enjoys the taste now. He isn't taking Goody deep, just letting his cock rest on his tongue, feeling the way it starts to firm up.
He pushes the pants all the way to the floor till they pool around bare feet on the floor while Billy runs his hand up and down hairy legs enjoying the way they feel under his hands. Listening for soft sighs from Goody who is swaying a bit back and forth but not pushing.
Billy does get back to the plan eventually, pulling off Goody's cock and looking up at him again, taking stock. Sometimes sex really does work, but from the way Goody is looking and the lack of pushing, Billy knows it won't be enough just yet, which he had suspected, hence the bath.
"You should get in," he says.
He didn't take Goody down his throat, Goody never even moved to push in deeper, and as such his voice is still strong; it sounds absolutely wrecked whenever Billy can get Goody to really let loose. Billy learned to deep throat just for the sounds Goody makes and the praise for how good Billy takes it.
"You are coming in too," asks Goody in a soft voice.
"Of course."
While Goody settles into the tub Billy pulls the chair with supplies closer, and intends to start undressing, but gets stuck there watching Goody tip his head back with a deep sigh and closing his eyes. Billy watches him, chest tight. He is beautiful, his partner, his love. Beautiful in motion and beautiful in rest, in true rest, when they are alone. The kind of rest and relaxation that is just for Billy's eyes.
Then Goody stiffens and he opens his eyes again, finding Billy's in an instance.
"Billy."
Goody is still haunted, still not quite at the point where he is truly relaxed, when Billy knows he's fully managed to banish the dreams from Goody’s mind.
"I'm here," Billy says softly, comforting.
He strokes Goody's arm just with his fingertips where it is draped on the edge of the bath. He bends down to press a kiss to the corner of Goody's mouth, a quick and chaste thing that Goody chases after when Billy moves away. Billy smiles at that and rewards him with another kiss, this one full on the lips, deeper, longer.
Sometimes they just do this, outside when they are camping under the star strewn night sky, they push their bedrolls close and curl up together kissing languidly for so long Billy thinks they eventually cease to be two and just become one.
It would be a fitting end. He is far from ready for it, and knows it will much more likely be met at the end of a gun; but he wishes that they will grow older together. That in the end they will finally ride out into the desert where they will lie down together and let the sands take them until they are nothing but bones intermingled in an eternal embrace.
Now he pulls away to undress with Goody’s gaze on him, heavy and warm. Once his clothes are in a pile on the floor he gets into the bath slowly so as to not displace too much water over the edge. He sinks down, legs on each side of Goody’s and Goody’s hand positioning his cock so that Billy can slowly open up to the girth of it.
"I wish you would have let me watch you open yourself up," Goody says wistfully while Billy sinks down slowly, his eyes closed and enjoying the slow slide of Goody’s cock filling him up. It feels like it was made just for him with the way it fills him up so well.
"And would you be fine with just watching, no touching?" Billy asks with a smile as he finally is sitting fully on Goody’s cock.
Billy reaches for the opium on the chair, already rolled into cigarettes.
"I could be," Goody says and Billy huffs a breath of disbelief.
Goody enjoys it far too much, having his hands on Billy; now his hands are roaming Billy's chest stroking up and down sending little thrills down to Billy's cock. Goody especially seems to like fingering Billy, or teasing, as Billy calls it. He seems to be able to do it for ages, pretending as if his own cock isn't rock hard and desperate to push it inside of Billy. Instead he just keeps his fingers moving as deep as they can, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through Billy.
Cigarette between his lips he lights up, takes a deep drag of it and leans back against Goody’s chest, head resting on Goody’s firm shoulder. He feels warm inside and out enveloped in the hot water, and Goody’s warm body beneath him, and a hard hot cock inside of him. He pushes that simmering desire to the side for now, letting himself just relax into the moment.
He holds out the cigarette for Goody, feels Goody’s lips against his fingers on the cigarette and turns his head to press kisses to Goody’s jawline, tasting sweat and water and Goody. Filling up on the smell of him by burrowing his nose into the crook of his neck and just breathing in.
Behind him he can feel tense muscles start to relax as Goody sighs content, both of them floating in a bubble of comfort, of warmth and safety. There are no haunting dreams here in this bubble; in this moment, Billy’s banished them with the tools at his disposal. It also settles something in Billy’s own mind, a yearning need for closeness that only settles down in moments like these.
Once in one of Goody’s moments of self recrimination he’d thrown out ‘surely you’re not getting anything out of just sitting there on my prick’ and Billy had tried his best to reassure even though he finds it hard to explain just what it is he’s getting out of it all. This act is inherently about comfort, of bringing comfort and Billy has very few instances where anything he does brings comfort - and he dreads the day when it won’t be enough, when he won’t be enough. He waves the thought away, it has no business here in this moment. ‘Don’t borrow problems from tomorrow’ Goody might say, and Billy would like to remind him that perhaps he should listen to his own advice once or twice - there is fulfillment in that.
There is also how close it brings them; this is what is so hard to voice out loud, he can tell Goody about how knowing he can be a source of comfort is enough for him; but opening up about this, this need to be as close to Goody as humanly possible it sticks in his throat. The words ‘I love you and this makes me feel connected to you’ are so difficult to voice because they are words that would flay him open and lay him naked for Goody to watch and discard. What if the love he knows Goody feels for him won’t be enough, what if it won’t make up for any of Billy’s flaws, what if Billy isn’t enough when push comes to shove?
Billy licks at the skin of Goody’s neck and forces his floating mind to focus on something other than potential problems from the future. Focuses on the warm water, Goody’s steady heartbeat, his cock inside of Billy where it belongs - maybe Billy was made for this as well and not just violence and doing whatever it takes to survive - focusing on the comfort he brings, the soft content sighs from Goody, the smoke in his lungs the next time he puts the cigarette in his mouth, paper soft from Goody’s lips - thinks of indirect little kisses in full view of other people, thinks of hands held or resting on thighs hidden underneath tables.
Goody kisses his temple and soft lips whisper against his skin.
“You are a treasure, Billy Rocks.”
It is addicting the whispered words of adoration directed at him, he craves the warm blossoming feeling each and every time. Words are hard for him to say out loud himself, he doesn’t have Goody’s way with words either, but even if he had half of them he fears they would still stick in his throat, and so this is all he can give.
His actions will have to speak for him, his body speaks for him; the way he can never quite help himself from smiling at Goody, in private moments when the fondness he feels is surely writ large in his smile. Stolen kisses and touches away from prying eyes. Giving himself up, leaving himself vulnerable in Goody’s hands, relaxing utterly into the knowledge that Goody is right there with him. Knowing that he is precious to at least one other person, who Billy can trust enough to let himself be vulnerable around.
Goody is such an unexpected, uncalled for anomaly in Billy’s world, a man who Billy finds himself trusting so completely. He had gone into their partnership wary and expected the usual betrayal that came with every white man Billy’s met since he came to this place. Surprisingly it never came, and much to Billy’s own surprise he began to give Goody his trust, something that seems to have opened a reservoir of trust and respect in return from Goody.
They float together in the warmth, passing the cigarette between them. The opium turns a harsh world around them into something smooth and soft. Erasing traces of troubled minds, of worries about the future, their world narrows until it is just the two of them. It is all Billy craves, all he needs. He enjoys seeing Goody in a good mood, talking and laughing with other patrons in the saloon, but that is because it makes him happy so see Goody happy. That isn’t to say that Billy can’t on occasion find his own enjoyment down there among other people who are not Goody, he enjoys playing cards, it’s the same enjoyment he gets during the trick shooting, it is never not going to be enjoyable to beat white men at their own games.
However, he prefers to play cards against Goody - he doesn’t even cheat then - hidden away in their rented room on top of a messy bed or out in the wilderness with the fire and the stars; he likes spending time with Goody, Goody who sees him and knows him, and Billy doesn’t see why he wouldn’t indulge himself in this closeness, this connection he still finds fascinating and unexpected, but a good kind of unexpected.
And so he will continue to steal away with Goody, on good days to keep those smiles aimed at him and only him; on bad days to reassure himself that Goody is still there with him, reinforcing their connection through these little rituals they’ve created.
They sit there joined together until the water starts to cool, goosebumps forming on wet skin and Billy can feel Goody shiver slightly. He’s been quiet, he often is during the high, when his mind gets to travel away from all of it, and Billy acknowledges that his own does a little bit of the same, though it usually just circles back around to Goody in these moments.
Billy is the first one to get up, though he can’t bite back a small whine when Goody’s cock slips out, which makes Goody chuckle and grope his ass while Billy stands up in the tub. He twists slightly to look over his shoulder at Goody, raising an eyebrow.
He’s about to say something, when Goody taking advantage of their positions leans forward and licks around his asshole, which is loose and sensitive after the long stretch and Billy moans as little pinpricks of pleasure shoot up his spine. Desire and heat blossoms to full force in his stomach after repressing it for so long.
Thankfully some rational thinking still remains in his brain and he steps out of the bathtub quickly, if he lets Goody continue his knees will undoubtedly buckle, he’ll fall and there will be a very embarrassing accident.
They don’t always follow it up with sex, most of the time in fact they just fall into bed, curl up together and kiss until they fall into a dreamless sleep. Sometimes though Goody will give him a look, like the one he is giving Billy now, something heated and possessive that sends a thrill through Billy’s body.
“Yeah? Come on then.” Billy says a little bit teasing and watches in delight as Goody heaves himself out of the bath, eyes never straying anywhere from Billy.
Sometimes Goody will bend him over a table or the side of the bed and fuck into him while Billy pleads for him to fuck him harder, harder; until he can’t draw enough breath to speak, all his air forced out from the thrusts and all he can do is just lie there and take it.
He loves it only a little bit less than he loves when Goody pushes him down on his back into the bed, looming over him as Billy’s legs splay open. Billy can never get enough of the way Goody looks at him then; especially when he chants ‘mon cher’. Billy wants to wrap Goody’s love around himself tightly like a comforting blanket.
Billy takes Goody’s cock so well - Goody tells him as much and heat flushes through him - letting out a soft moan and wrapping his legs around Goody who fucks into him so slow and steady. Here lies the great contradiction of Billy Rocks, for all that he loves being fucked hard; he also craves this, to be something precious, something to be handled with care. However he can’t ever ask for it, not even from Goody - not like he can ask for Goody to just come over and take him - he can only wait and hope Goody will see through him. Much like all the soft and loving words get caught in his throat, seem to not fit in his mouth, asking for this is an impossibility.
“Cher,” Goody says with reverence in his voice and love in eyes locked with Billy’s; and he can’t handle the feeling in his chest growing so large it threatens to burst out of him.
He comes with Goody’s name on his lips, with Goody spilling inside of him. His fingers tangle in wet strands of hair at the back of Goody’s head and pulls him into a kiss he can get lost in. The events of the day fading into the past and all that matters is this moment.