Fic for penguingal Part 1
Recipient: penguingal
Author: TBA
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Title: Second Nature (Part 1)
Pairing: Don/Ian/Billy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Threesome, light bondage
Summary: A cabin, a secret, a past remembered, a future offered
Author's Note: Thanks to my beta
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, Man Hunt
'Saturday 7/25 2PM'
Don checked his watch; he was right on time or rather he was on time precisely because he'd gotten here early and planned his approach to the remote mountain cabin to ensure he would be.
He looked at the business card sized paper in his hand. It bore the date and time on one side and GPS coordinates on the other. With his access to satellite imagery it wasn't hard to scope out the cabin ahead of time, but all he knew was that it was privately owned in the middle of a national forest - one of a handful of properties grandfathered in when the park was created.
The note had been placed on his bedroom pillow during a case wrap up party at his apartment - left behind with a fortune cookie from their takeout Chinese food - so he knew it had to be from one of the team members who'd been there. He wasn't certain who exactly, though he had a better than educated guess given the location.
He knocked on the door, adopting a casual pose, and waited for it to open.
"Hey, Ian."
Whether Ian was surprised by his lack of surprise, Don couldn't tell. One couldn't tell much from Ian's expression at the best of times; the man had the world's best poker face when he was focused.
"Don..." He stepped back from the doorway and gestured in welcome. "Come on in."
He barely had to take two steps into the cabin to spy Billy kicking back on the sofa.
"Welcome to Decompression Central!" Billy held up the beer bottle in his hand in greeting and salute to Don. "What took you so damn long?"
"Hey, his invite was for 2PM." Ian shut the door behind them and ushered Don further in with a gesture. "I only told you noon because you're always running late."
"So I got here at 1PM for no reason?" Billy looked playfully petulant, no real malice behind his words.
"I rest my case," Ian said with a snicker. "Okay, now that Don's here we need to pick him out a beer to get started." Ian picked up a list and brandished it with a flourish. "My present this year: a case of microbrewed beers. Only my parents and my sister each got me one so now I've got two cases that need drinking." He turned to Billy. "What do you think we should give him to start? An IPA? A Hefeweisen?"
"To work him up to a porter or stout later?" Billy pursed his lips, in thought. "I'd go with the Hefeweisen."
Don peeked at the label in Billy's hand.
"Or is that because you're drinking the IPA already?"
"I take the fifth!" Billy proclaimed, topping it off with a long swallow.
"Fifths come later - after the beer," Ian joked. He headed for the small refrigerator in the kitchen wall of the mostly one room cabin and pulled out a bottle which he handed to Don. "Give this a try."
Don used the bottle opener on his key chain Swiss army knife and took a swig.
"Oh, very nice!" After another drink he looked at his host and fellow guest. "So we're here to drink then?"
Ian's husky chuckle sent a little jolt through Don, part anticipation and part worry.
"Oh, there's so much more planned for this weekend." He ducked into a side room that was likely a bathroom and emerged with three thick white robes, tossing one each to Don and Billy. "The hot tub's all warmed up and ready go to."
Don fingered his robe. It was definitely high quality, soft but absorbent.
"I didn't exactly plan for this," he told Ian, "so it's not like I packed swim trunks."
Ian waved him off with a gesture. "First, it's not like we all haven't seen plenty of each other naked in the locker rooms and second, there's no one for miles around here. I think we can risk being naked outdoors for the second it takes to get in the water."
"Works for me." Billy got up and started disrobing.
Ian tossed his robe over his shoulder and picked up his own beer bottle. "I'm going to go turn on the outdoor sound system so we can have some music."
Don watched him go, Billy stripping in his peripheral vision.
Beer, tunes and some hot tubbing. It sounded innocuous enough, but there was a prickling of the hairs on the back of Don's neck that told him this wasn't all that lay in store if Ian was running the show.
*
"If this is unwinding? Consider me unwound." Billy toasted Ian lazily as he polished off his bottle of beer.
Don had to admit he'd unwound fairly well himself and not all of that was due to the fact he was on his third beer. He'd snagged the last IPA before Billy could get to it and found it was worth coveting. He'd worked his way up to a nice Bavarian Eisbock and as he sloshed it a little in the bottle realized he'd be done with that one fairly soon as well.
"Well, then!" Ian polished off the last of his own bottle and reached for his towel and robe. "That means it's time to get out the massage table!"
Don was still staring at Ian in disbelief and was still too stunned to shift his gaze when Ian got out of the hot tub, catching an unintended glimpse of his bare ass. The sudden visible nudity made him shift in his seat in the water, feeling a flutter down low reminding him just how long it had been since he'd had sex.
"He's kidding, right?" he finally asked Billy once Ian was back inside the cabin.
"Nope." Billy did indeed look fairly liquid at his point, arms draped lazily over the sides of the hot tub. "Ian's got amazing hands, but then that's not too much of a stretch knowing what he does for a living. He turns me into butter every time."
"You do this often then?"
"Not often enough!" Billy let out a little chortle. "He started inviting me when a fellow tracker moved away. And when Tim King bowed out..."
"Wait, you guys invited Tim and not me?"
"Ian invited," Billy clarified. "It's his place, man. He can invite whoever he wants and apparently him and Tim go back a ways, which I didn't know. Anyway, Tim's taking an instructor position at Quantico - his new wife wants him out of the field apparently - so Ian asked me if I thought you'd be up for hanging with us... If you'd be into it."
"Still not sure what it is." Don glanced back to the door, but Ian hadn't returned yet. He lowered his voice. "I thought it was just beer and hanging out, but I get the sense that Ian's got more on his mind."
"Is that such a bad thing?" Don blinked at Billy as he raised one eyebrow and gave him a sly grin. Ian reappearing was the only thing that stopped Don from pursuing the matter further.
Ian set up the folding massage table quickly and efficiently, covering it with fresh towels before gesturing Billy up onto it.
"You're up first, Coop."
"My lucky day." Billy got out of the hot tub and briefly toweled off the majority of the water on him before climbing onto the table on his stomach.
Despite Don having shared motel rooms for years with Billy back in his Fugitive Recovery days he had to notice that Billy was still in fantastic shape despite both of them being much older now. And Ian, older than both of them, would have had a flawless physique if not for the myriad of scars Don caught sight of when he looked closer. He'd kept up his own athlete's body: part for keeping swift on the job and part vanity.
A memory flashed back into his mind. He'd been working with a personal trainer at his gym and jokingly said he worked out hard to impress women. The trainer had surreptitiously pointed out the number of eyes watching him in the all mens gym and suggested women weren't the only ones being impressed.
He'd stifled a moment of panic then, afraid somehow the man could tell he wasn't as perfectly straight as he'd pretended to be. Now he was fairly sure Billy had let slip - or at least implied - that the two of them had 'passed the time' as Billy put it while they were partners. Billy had a way of making even the most questionable acts seem innocuous. Busting down a door without a warrant was almost always done with Billy's version of 'reasonable cause', not Don's.
Watching Ian's talented hands skate over Billy's bare form, Don had a hard time clamping down on his arousal, hidden for now under the bubbling water. Ian certainly felt no compulsions about being naked in the late afternoon sunlight and Billy was certainly enjoying being worked on if his pleased little humming was any indication.
"I've got to hit the john." Don was up and out of the tub and into his robe as fast as he could manage, hoping neither man would notice his condition.
"Don't get lost on the way," Billy called after him cheerfully.
"It's a two room cabin," Ian intoned. "Kind of hard to miss it."
"Not if you're drunk!" Don heard Billy say as he headed inside.
Closing the door behind him he made a beeline for the bathroom, locking and checking the door and making sure the small window was shut tight. Dropping the robe he took his now straining erection in hand. Clearly it had been too long since all it took was some firm strokes and the visual of Ian and Billy fucking in his imagination to get him to come.
Embarrassed, he cleaned up quickly and grabbed the beer list before he left, walking out reading it as if he'd been perusing it a while.
"I'm torn. Do I jump to a stout after the eisbock or a porter..." His voice trailed off when he looked up and realized what he'd walked in on. Billy had flipped over onto his back and Ian was lazily sliding his fist up and down Billy's cock.
"Your call," Ian said, as if he wasn't in the midst of jacking Billy off. "If you're going for two more I'd say stout first, then porter. If you can handle more? I just had a nice brown ale..."
"Hey! I wanted the other brown ale!" Billy protested.
"Stout it is." Don turned on his heel and went back into the house trying to ignore the soft needy pants he could hear Billy making in the ensuing silence. Once inside he paused, just out of sight, trying to get his racing heart back under control. He'd suspected Ian had more in mind than the typical man cave getaway, but it was a whole other thing to be faced with proof.
Walking over to the refrigerator, he couldn't stop the visuals assailing his mind: Billy's blissful expression on the massage table, the first time Billy had showered in front of him as a purposeful display of his nude form, that fateful stakeout where they'd traded hand jobs for the first time... All it had taken was Billy teasing him about being a prude and they'd graduated quickly to alternating blow jobs.
The bottle of stout felt cool in his hand and he held it to his forehead, overheated from both the hot tub and his body's blatant ignoring of the release he'd just given it.
He jumped slightly when he heard the back door open and set about opening his bottle as Ian - now wearing his robe - went to the kitchen sink and washed his hands.
"Grab me one of the Black Jack Porters, will you?" he asked, drying his hands.
Don opened the refrigerator and quickly found the label he was looking for, handing the bottle to Ian.
"Here you go."
"Thanks." Ian opened it and took a sip, nodding his head in appreciation before leaning back against the counter. "So, you freaked out?"
"No," Don answered a little too quickly. He took a drink to give him time to come up with a better answer. "It's not what I expected," he said carefully. "Any reason why you didn't want to, I don't know, just tell me?"
Ian winked at him. "Where's the fun in that?" He headed towards the door again. "Table's free. You're up." He glanced back over his shoulder. "If you're up for it that is."
Don sank down into a nearby chair, mind overflowing with possibilities. He stared at the door, knowing before he went through it he'd have to make a decision.
He took a long drink of the stout, no longer tasting it.
Liquid courage, people called alcohol, but he'd had enough this afternoon to handle any normal hesitation.
This, though, was something completely different.
*
Ian solved the problem for him as he came back in a few minutes later, Billy in tow, also in his robe now.
"Damn campers," Ian scowled. "Someone put out a campfire wrong and now the wind's full of ash."
"I'd be tempted to go down there and give them a piece of my mind," Billy added. "Except I'm naked and barefoot." He gestured to his body beneath the robe. "Not sure they'd take me seriously."
"Take your badge with you then," Ian joked, settling himself on the sofa with his porter.
"Well, that makes it all work out then!" Billy let out a jovial chuckle and joined Ian on the sofa, nudging him. "So what's for dinner, Jefe?"
"In honor of Mr. Carnivore over here?" Ian cocked his head towards where Don hovered, still in the kitchen area. "Rib eye."
"Nice..." Billy nodded. "You putting me to work?"
"As always," Ian replied. "You can fight with Don over who does the potatoes and who does the green beans."
"I call green beans!" Billy smirked at Don. "Is that like the 'shotgun' of vegetables or what?"
Don couldn't help but laugh, letting his worries go now that the tension of deciding - at least for now - had passed.
"Great," Don fake muttered. "I'm like the private in this private army then? Peeling potatoes..."
"Nah," Ian said. "We're going baked." He gestured to a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. "Which means you're up first. Potatoes are in the bag, scrub brush and soap are in the cabinet under the sink."
"Fine, I can earn my keep." Don set himself to work, actually grateful for the distraction. While he washed and cleaned each of the large russet potatoes in the sink he found himself throwing glances over to where Ian and Billy were lounging on the sofa, drinking in companionable silence.
He had to admit to himself that the time with Billy had been fun and good stress relief. The fact that Ian - who essentially killed people for a living as a sniper - needed a level of relief that involved a secluded mountain cabin and not one but two men? Somehow Don started to see the logic behind it. That he was Ian's choice to replace a long time trusted partner? And Billy's choice as well, clearly.
He'd trusted these men with his life over and over and they'd done the same. What was a secret like this - which he knew he'd keep even if he chose not to participate - compared to life or death?
It all fell into place in those moments: Don's attitude towards his time with Billy, his understanding of Ian's motivations and his own need to find an outlet off the clock other than adrenaline fueled sex with women who expected more than he was willing or able to give.
No strings attached, a chance to be with a man again without worrying about the FBI brass finding out, an opportunity to thank Ian in particular for breaking the rules to save his life...
He glanced back over at the two men, seeing them with less critical, less judgmental eyes.
"Coop! Get your ass over here! If I have to veg out you better be doing the green beans with me."
"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Billy drawled, rising slowly. "I'm coming." He nudged Don aside with his hip and dumped the green beans out of their bag and into the sink beside Don's potatoes. They worked side by side, Billy prepping the beans as Don finished rinsing the potatoes.
"Hand me the towel." Don accepted a kitchen towel from Billy and started drying off the clean potatoes.
"You know," Billy said under his breath. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. That's not what this is about."
"I get it." Don looked up to find Billy looking at him closely. "I get it," he repeated, holding Billy's gaze so he knew he was serious.
He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and it hit him that even though Billy was always an easy-going guy at work the tiny lines of stress around his eyes and mouth were erased, leaving behind a truly relaxed expression.
"If I remember right there should be oil and salt in the cupboard." He gestured to the cupboard on Don's other side.
"Sure it's cooking oil and not massage oil?" Don asked teasingly.
It was Ian who laughed out loud rather than Billy at his joke.
"Good one!" He raised his beer in salute. "Though I might have to pilfer it if I run out of my normal massage oil."
"No thanks," Don joshed. "I'll pass rather than leave here smelling like Crisco!"
Billy dropped his knife in the sink as he burst out laughing.
"Shit, you guys are always so much funnier when I'm drunk!"
"All right..." Ian got up and put his beer aside. "That's my cue to get the grill ready and put the steaks on. When Billy's punchy he needs to eat before the next round of alcohol."
"Feed me!" Billy blurted out, chortling. "Feed me!"
Ian gave Billy a fake smack to the back of his head as he passed.
"You keep going like that this will turn into a Little Shop of Horrors!"
This time it was Don's turn to crack up, envisioning a man-eating plant with Billy's face on it. For the first time since he'd arrived he felt truly free to be himself, among friends.
*
Author: TBA
Disclaimer: Author doesn't own the show or the characters and isn't making any profit.
Title: Second Nature (Part 1)
Pairing: Don/Ian/Billy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Threesome, light bondage
Summary: A cabin, a secret, a past remembered, a future offered
Author's Note: Thanks to my beta
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, Man Hunt
'Saturday 7/25 2PM'
Don checked his watch; he was right on time or rather he was on time precisely because he'd gotten here early and planned his approach to the remote mountain cabin to ensure he would be.
He looked at the business card sized paper in his hand. It bore the date and time on one side and GPS coordinates on the other. With his access to satellite imagery it wasn't hard to scope out the cabin ahead of time, but all he knew was that it was privately owned in the middle of a national forest - one of a handful of properties grandfathered in when the park was created.
The note had been placed on his bedroom pillow during a case wrap up party at his apartment - left behind with a fortune cookie from their takeout Chinese food - so he knew it had to be from one of the team members who'd been there. He wasn't certain who exactly, though he had a better than educated guess given the location.
He knocked on the door, adopting a casual pose, and waited for it to open.
"Hey, Ian."
Whether Ian was surprised by his lack of surprise, Don couldn't tell. One couldn't tell much from Ian's expression at the best of times; the man had the world's best poker face when he was focused.
"Don..." He stepped back from the doorway and gestured in welcome. "Come on in."
He barely had to take two steps into the cabin to spy Billy kicking back on the sofa.
"Welcome to Decompression Central!" Billy held up the beer bottle in his hand in greeting and salute to Don. "What took you so damn long?"
"Hey, his invite was for 2PM." Ian shut the door behind them and ushered Don further in with a gesture. "I only told you noon because you're always running late."
"So I got here at 1PM for no reason?" Billy looked playfully petulant, no real malice behind his words.
"I rest my case," Ian said with a snicker. "Okay, now that Don's here we need to pick him out a beer to get started." Ian picked up a list and brandished it with a flourish. "My present this year: a case of microbrewed beers. Only my parents and my sister each got me one so now I've got two cases that need drinking." He turned to Billy. "What do you think we should give him to start? An IPA? A Hefeweisen?"
"To work him up to a porter or stout later?" Billy pursed his lips, in thought. "I'd go with the Hefeweisen."
Don peeked at the label in Billy's hand.
"Or is that because you're drinking the IPA already?"
"I take the fifth!" Billy proclaimed, topping it off with a long swallow.
"Fifths come later - after the beer," Ian joked. He headed for the small refrigerator in the kitchen wall of the mostly one room cabin and pulled out a bottle which he handed to Don. "Give this a try."
Don used the bottle opener on his key chain Swiss army knife and took a swig.
"Oh, very nice!" After another drink he looked at his host and fellow guest. "So we're here to drink then?"
Ian's husky chuckle sent a little jolt through Don, part anticipation and part worry.
"Oh, there's so much more planned for this weekend." He ducked into a side room that was likely a bathroom and emerged with three thick white robes, tossing one each to Don and Billy. "The hot tub's all warmed up and ready go to."
Don fingered his robe. It was definitely high quality, soft but absorbent.
"I didn't exactly plan for this," he told Ian, "so it's not like I packed swim trunks."
Ian waved him off with a gesture. "First, it's not like we all haven't seen plenty of each other naked in the locker rooms and second, there's no one for miles around here. I think we can risk being naked outdoors for the second it takes to get in the water."
"Works for me." Billy got up and started disrobing.
Ian tossed his robe over his shoulder and picked up his own beer bottle. "I'm going to go turn on the outdoor sound system so we can have some music."
Don watched him go, Billy stripping in his peripheral vision.
Beer, tunes and some hot tubbing. It sounded innocuous enough, but there was a prickling of the hairs on the back of Don's neck that told him this wasn't all that lay in store if Ian was running the show.
*
"If this is unwinding? Consider me unwound." Billy toasted Ian lazily as he polished off his bottle of beer.
Don had to admit he'd unwound fairly well himself and not all of that was due to the fact he was on his third beer. He'd snagged the last IPA before Billy could get to it and found it was worth coveting. He'd worked his way up to a nice Bavarian Eisbock and as he sloshed it a little in the bottle realized he'd be done with that one fairly soon as well.
"Well, then!" Ian polished off the last of his own bottle and reached for his towel and robe. "That means it's time to get out the massage table!"
Don was still staring at Ian in disbelief and was still too stunned to shift his gaze when Ian got out of the hot tub, catching an unintended glimpse of his bare ass. The sudden visible nudity made him shift in his seat in the water, feeling a flutter down low reminding him just how long it had been since he'd had sex.
"He's kidding, right?" he finally asked Billy once Ian was back inside the cabin.
"Nope." Billy did indeed look fairly liquid at his point, arms draped lazily over the sides of the hot tub. "Ian's got amazing hands, but then that's not too much of a stretch knowing what he does for a living. He turns me into butter every time."
"You do this often then?"
"Not often enough!" Billy let out a little chortle. "He started inviting me when a fellow tracker moved away. And when Tim King bowed out..."
"Wait, you guys invited Tim and not me?"
"Ian invited," Billy clarified. "It's his place, man. He can invite whoever he wants and apparently him and Tim go back a ways, which I didn't know. Anyway, Tim's taking an instructor position at Quantico - his new wife wants him out of the field apparently - so Ian asked me if I thought you'd be up for hanging with us... If you'd be into it."
"Still not sure what it is." Don glanced back to the door, but Ian hadn't returned yet. He lowered his voice. "I thought it was just beer and hanging out, but I get the sense that Ian's got more on his mind."
"Is that such a bad thing?" Don blinked at Billy as he raised one eyebrow and gave him a sly grin. Ian reappearing was the only thing that stopped Don from pursuing the matter further.
Ian set up the folding massage table quickly and efficiently, covering it with fresh towels before gesturing Billy up onto it.
"You're up first, Coop."
"My lucky day." Billy got out of the hot tub and briefly toweled off the majority of the water on him before climbing onto the table on his stomach.
Despite Don having shared motel rooms for years with Billy back in his Fugitive Recovery days he had to notice that Billy was still in fantastic shape despite both of them being much older now. And Ian, older than both of them, would have had a flawless physique if not for the myriad of scars Don caught sight of when he looked closer. He'd kept up his own athlete's body: part for keeping swift on the job and part vanity.
A memory flashed back into his mind. He'd been working with a personal trainer at his gym and jokingly said he worked out hard to impress women. The trainer had surreptitiously pointed out the number of eyes watching him in the all mens gym and suggested women weren't the only ones being impressed.
He'd stifled a moment of panic then, afraid somehow the man could tell he wasn't as perfectly straight as he'd pretended to be. Now he was fairly sure Billy had let slip - or at least implied - that the two of them had 'passed the time' as Billy put it while they were partners. Billy had a way of making even the most questionable acts seem innocuous. Busting down a door without a warrant was almost always done with Billy's version of 'reasonable cause', not Don's.
Watching Ian's talented hands skate over Billy's bare form, Don had a hard time clamping down on his arousal, hidden for now under the bubbling water. Ian certainly felt no compulsions about being naked in the late afternoon sunlight and Billy was certainly enjoying being worked on if his pleased little humming was any indication.
"I've got to hit the john." Don was up and out of the tub and into his robe as fast as he could manage, hoping neither man would notice his condition.
"Don't get lost on the way," Billy called after him cheerfully.
"It's a two room cabin," Ian intoned. "Kind of hard to miss it."
"Not if you're drunk!" Don heard Billy say as he headed inside.
Closing the door behind him he made a beeline for the bathroom, locking and checking the door and making sure the small window was shut tight. Dropping the robe he took his now straining erection in hand. Clearly it had been too long since all it took was some firm strokes and the visual of Ian and Billy fucking in his imagination to get him to come.
Embarrassed, he cleaned up quickly and grabbed the beer list before he left, walking out reading it as if he'd been perusing it a while.
"I'm torn. Do I jump to a stout after the eisbock or a porter..." His voice trailed off when he looked up and realized what he'd walked in on. Billy had flipped over onto his back and Ian was lazily sliding his fist up and down Billy's cock.
"Your call," Ian said, as if he wasn't in the midst of jacking Billy off. "If you're going for two more I'd say stout first, then porter. If you can handle more? I just had a nice brown ale..."
"Hey! I wanted the other brown ale!" Billy protested.
"Stout it is." Don turned on his heel and went back into the house trying to ignore the soft needy pants he could hear Billy making in the ensuing silence. Once inside he paused, just out of sight, trying to get his racing heart back under control. He'd suspected Ian had more in mind than the typical man cave getaway, but it was a whole other thing to be faced with proof.
Walking over to the refrigerator, he couldn't stop the visuals assailing his mind: Billy's blissful expression on the massage table, the first time Billy had showered in front of him as a purposeful display of his nude form, that fateful stakeout where they'd traded hand jobs for the first time... All it had taken was Billy teasing him about being a prude and they'd graduated quickly to alternating blow jobs.
The bottle of stout felt cool in his hand and he held it to his forehead, overheated from both the hot tub and his body's blatant ignoring of the release he'd just given it.
He jumped slightly when he heard the back door open and set about opening his bottle as Ian - now wearing his robe - went to the kitchen sink and washed his hands.
"Grab me one of the Black Jack Porters, will you?" he asked, drying his hands.
Don opened the refrigerator and quickly found the label he was looking for, handing the bottle to Ian.
"Here you go."
"Thanks." Ian opened it and took a sip, nodding his head in appreciation before leaning back against the counter. "So, you freaked out?"
"No," Don answered a little too quickly. He took a drink to give him time to come up with a better answer. "It's not what I expected," he said carefully. "Any reason why you didn't want to, I don't know, just tell me?"
Ian winked at him. "Where's the fun in that?" He headed towards the door again. "Table's free. You're up." He glanced back over his shoulder. "If you're up for it that is."
Don sank down into a nearby chair, mind overflowing with possibilities. He stared at the door, knowing before he went through it he'd have to make a decision.
He took a long drink of the stout, no longer tasting it.
Liquid courage, people called alcohol, but he'd had enough this afternoon to handle any normal hesitation.
This, though, was something completely different.
*
Ian solved the problem for him as he came back in a few minutes later, Billy in tow, also in his robe now.
"Damn campers," Ian scowled. "Someone put out a campfire wrong and now the wind's full of ash."
"I'd be tempted to go down there and give them a piece of my mind," Billy added. "Except I'm naked and barefoot." He gestured to his body beneath the robe. "Not sure they'd take me seriously."
"Take your badge with you then," Ian joked, settling himself on the sofa with his porter.
"Well, that makes it all work out then!" Billy let out a jovial chuckle and joined Ian on the sofa, nudging him. "So what's for dinner, Jefe?"
"In honor of Mr. Carnivore over here?" Ian cocked his head towards where Don hovered, still in the kitchen area. "Rib eye."
"Nice..." Billy nodded. "You putting me to work?"
"As always," Ian replied. "You can fight with Don over who does the potatoes and who does the green beans."
"I call green beans!" Billy smirked at Don. "Is that like the 'shotgun' of vegetables or what?"
Don couldn't help but laugh, letting his worries go now that the tension of deciding - at least for now - had passed.
"Great," Don fake muttered. "I'm like the private in this private army then? Peeling potatoes..."
"Nah," Ian said. "We're going baked." He gestured to a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. "Which means you're up first. Potatoes are in the bag, scrub brush and soap are in the cabinet under the sink."
"Fine, I can earn my keep." Don set himself to work, actually grateful for the distraction. While he washed and cleaned each of the large russet potatoes in the sink he found himself throwing glances over to where Ian and Billy were lounging on the sofa, drinking in companionable silence.
He had to admit to himself that the time with Billy had been fun and good stress relief. The fact that Ian - who essentially killed people for a living as a sniper - needed a level of relief that involved a secluded mountain cabin and not one but two men? Somehow Don started to see the logic behind it. That he was Ian's choice to replace a long time trusted partner? And Billy's choice as well, clearly.
He'd trusted these men with his life over and over and they'd done the same. What was a secret like this - which he knew he'd keep even if he chose not to participate - compared to life or death?
It all fell into place in those moments: Don's attitude towards his time with Billy, his understanding of Ian's motivations and his own need to find an outlet off the clock other than adrenaline fueled sex with women who expected more than he was willing or able to give.
No strings attached, a chance to be with a man again without worrying about the FBI brass finding out, an opportunity to thank Ian in particular for breaking the rules to save his life...
He glanced back over at the two men, seeing them with less critical, less judgmental eyes.
"Coop! Get your ass over here! If I have to veg out you better be doing the green beans with me."
"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Billy drawled, rising slowly. "I'm coming." He nudged Don aside with his hip and dumped the green beans out of their bag and into the sink beside Don's potatoes. They worked side by side, Billy prepping the beans as Don finished rinsing the potatoes.
"Hand me the towel." Don accepted a kitchen towel from Billy and started drying off the clean potatoes.
"You know," Billy said under his breath. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. That's not what this is about."
"I get it." Don looked up to find Billy looking at him closely. "I get it," he repeated, holding Billy's gaze so he knew he was serious.
He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and it hit him that even though Billy was always an easy-going guy at work the tiny lines of stress around his eyes and mouth were erased, leaving behind a truly relaxed expression.
"If I remember right there should be oil and salt in the cupboard." He gestured to the cupboard on Don's other side.
"Sure it's cooking oil and not massage oil?" Don asked teasingly.
It was Ian who laughed out loud rather than Billy at his joke.
"Good one!" He raised his beer in salute. "Though I might have to pilfer it if I run out of my normal massage oil."
"No thanks," Don joshed. "I'll pass rather than leave here smelling like Crisco!"
Billy dropped his knife in the sink as he burst out laughing.
"Shit, you guys are always so much funnier when I'm drunk!"
"All right..." Ian got up and put his beer aside. "That's my cue to get the grill ready and put the steaks on. When Billy's punchy he needs to eat before the next round of alcohol."
"Feed me!" Billy blurted out, chortling. "Feed me!"
Ian gave Billy a fake smack to the back of his head as he passed.
"You keep going like that this will turn into a Little Shop of Horrors!"
This time it was Don's turn to crack up, envisioning a man-eating plant with Billy's face on it. For the first time since he'd arrived he felt truly free to be himself, among friends.
*