Finn found three rather large bottles of strong alcohol, calling the other three mobsters over to share the drinks with. Eventually an entire bottle was gone, Albert went to bed, and Billy seemed to be getting increasingly depressed. He retired as well after another three glasses of booze.
Albert lay curled up under his blanket, unable to fall asleep. He resorted to just laying still, eyes closed, already regretting the amount he drank as he thought of the hangover he would have tomorrow. He felt someone crawl into the cot beside him, sparking his anxiety. He chose to ignore it, pretending to be asleep as the pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around him. There was only two people it could be, Finn or Billy, as Sal was quite slim. But Finn hated him, so why would he be there? So did Billy, however, and that left Albert very confused as the hitman started talking.
"I know you're probably sleeping and can't hear me..." Billy mumbled, his face buried in the nape of Al's neck. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry. Leaving you was a huge mistake. Now you don't want to talk to me and I treat you like shit now anyway. I'm sure you hate me." His voice cracked and broke off, indicating that he was upset. "If I could do my whole life over again, I would do anything to make you happy. I hate knowing that you're depressed, I see how sad you are all the time since I left."
Something cold and wet dripped onto Albert's cheek as Billy moved his face to lay it on his. Was he crying?
"You don't smile anymore, and if you do it's obviously fake. I wish I could make you smile again."
Albert started to tear up, refusing to open his eyes or move so as to not startle the killer. He wanted to hear what Billy wanted to say. There was a short pause, and Al felt more tears splash against his cheek.
"I miss you..." Billy croaked. He could barely get the words out through the lump in his throat. "I love you. And the more I try to pretend I don't feel for you... the worse it hurts..." He sniffed, pulling Albert closer. Albert's back seemed to fit perfectly with the front of Billy, like a puzzle. "I miss holding you like this at night. I wanna hold you again.." He squeezed Albert, gently intertwining their fingers. "I'm so fucking sorry..."
He gave a quiet sob, bringing Albert's hand up to his face and gently kissing his fingers. He held the smaller man close to him, gently rubbing his thumb on the top of Al's hand until he calmed down. Then he gave the Weasel a quick kiss on his cheek and walked back to his own cell. Albert waited for about ten minutes before getting up and creeping across the hall. Billy, as expected, was sound asleep.
He slid into bed next to the hitman, weaseling his way into his arms and snuggling into his chest. He rested his hand over Billy's waist, smiling slightly. It was a genuine smile, for the first time in nearly six years. Albert smiled a little more when he felt Billy wrap his arms around his back and pull him closer, nuzzling into his mousy brown hair. He didn't wake up, but he did smile. Maybe he was having a good dream, or perhaps he could sense Al's presence.
-
Albert opened his eyes, being met with the sight of Billy's chest slowly rising and falling. The hitman had rolled on his back, still holding the arsonist with one arm with his other hand resting on his own stomach. He was awake, staring up at the ceiling and rubbing gentle circles into Al's back.
Weasel stretched his arm across Billy's chest and rested it on his neck, gaining the killers attention.
"Morning.." He muttered, voice gravely and thick with sleep. "Why'd you come back?"
"I was awake." Al replied.
"You heard it all?"
Albert nodded, humming a reply. He shifted his weight and snuggled closer. "I forgive you."
Billy smiled, dragging the smaller male on top of him and hugging him tight. "I love you, Al, I really do."
"I love you too" Albert smiled, drawing circles in Billy's chest with his index finger.