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citrinekay · 5 years ago

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Modern setting. They have been together for a long time now but they haven't come out to the bureau. Holden wants to, but Bill is more reticent. It's not the right time, what if something happens to one of us, what if you don't like me anymore? Holden can't convince him but they love each other so that's more important. There's some company dance or gathering (or something) and Bill decides it's time and has the dj play one of Holden's fav songs and takes Holden's hand and they dance and kiss x

wah this is such a great prompt!!! Also, I’ve never done a modern setting with them before so this was fun! Hope you enjoy :) (and here’s the song I picked for them to dance to.)

“Do you think the tie is too much?” Holden asks, fiddling with the knot as he gazes critically at his reflection in the mirror.

“It’s business casual, Holden.” Bill says, uttering a sigh as he leans back against the headboard of their bed. “Nobody else is going to be wearing a tie.”

Holden groans in frustration and yanks the tie from around his neck.

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Bill suppresses the urge to not roll his eyes. He’s been dressed for fifteen minutes while Holden is still agonizing over what to wear to their department chief’s retirement party. They have this same conversation anytime they go anywhere together whether it’s dinner or the movies. Holden is wildly indecisive about unimportant things like which t-shirt to wear while being unimpeachably decided about a number of other things.

“Just wear a polo.” Bill says, motioning to his own navy blue shirt. “It’ll be fine.”

Holden takes off his button up as he goes back to his closet to consult his choices. He drags his fingers across the row of shirts while he contemplates aloud, “I wonder if Wendy is bringing Kay.”

Bill draws in a deep breath as he dusts some non existent lint from his pant leg. There’s a pointed note in Holden’s voice, a question underlying the innocent pondering. A question they’ve been over only about ten times in the past week. Once Holden gets an idea in his head, it’s difficult for him to let go.

“Probably.” Bill says, “Everyone got a plus one.”

“Including us.” Holden mutters, toying with the sleeve of a black knit sweater.

Bill smashes his spent cigarette in the tray on the nightstand. “Are we really going to have this argument right now? While we’re trying to get ready to go? You’re gonna make us late.”

“Yeah, then everyone would notice that we’re arriving together.” Holden says, turning around to cast him an unperturbed glare.

Bill longs for the days when a gruff tone of voice was enough to smother Holden’s simpering. No longer. They’re in a relationship now, and Holden is unbothered by his frustration, well aware that his bark is worse than his bite.

Not too long ago, he’d been a sergeant in the Army. Where had all his authority gone to?

Bill swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands with a sigh. “Come on, let’s go. I’m not fighting with you about this right now.”

Holden’s petulant gaze follows him out of the room before cutting back to his closet.

Ten minutes later he’s dressed in a gray pull-over sweater and black slacks. Bill motions him out the door, checking his watch with a flare of annoyance.

Holden scrolls through his phone while Bill drives them to Quantico. Pushing aside his frustrations, Bill reaches a tentative hand across the space between them to touch his knee. Holden laces his fingers through Bill’s, but he doesn’t look up from his cell.

Bill squeezes his fingers around the wheel. He feels like he should apologize for being short, but a flinching part of him hides fiercely behind prickly armor. He’s never outed himself to anyone. While Holden has been out and proud to most of their co-workers since the day they met, Bill has always kept his sexuality a secret. Even after a failed marriage to a woman, it’s difficult for him to look at Holden’s gay friends, a community of proud, loving individuals, without wondering if he’s some kind of fraud. He’d spent the first half of his life trying to live up to antiquated ideals set forth by his family, by the military, by the Bureau, and the idea of identifying to everyone around them that he’s just as gay as Holden and Wendy scares the hell out of him.

But he can’t tell Holden that. He can’t say aloud that he’s scared more than anything else. The relationship is too new and fragile. What if they made their relationship public, and then realized how incompatible they really are? Bill’s cover would be blown forever, and for what?

Bill glances across the car at Holden whose face is illuminated by the blue LED of his cellphone screen. For him.

Holden looks up from his phone. “Wendy just posted on Instagram she’s bringing Kay.”

Bill clenches his jaw. Social media. Yet another affirmation by fire.

“They’re adorable.” Holden observes, holding out the phone so that Bill can see the photo of Kay kissing Wendy’s cheek while Wendy gazes blissfully into the lens.

“Yeah.” Bill says, averting his gaze back to the road.

“You know,” Holden says, after a moment, “Wendy already knows. And probably so does half of the department.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that nobody is judging us.” Holden says, “It’s 2019, Bill. People are getting more progressive, believe it or not. All it would really be is signing the consent form and-”

“I don’t want my relationship to be a matter of FBI record.” Bill says, “Is that too much to ask, Holden? That I don’t want to sign some paper saying we’re sleeping together?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t see what the big deal is.” Holden says, “It’s just to avoid sexual harassment law suits. It’s just a precaution. It’s not some big declaration of your love for me.”

Silence settles on the car, and Bill disentangles his hand from Holden’s. His fingers are itching for a cigarette, but Holden complains every time he lights up in the car.

“Okay.” Holden mutters, sounding wounded. “Maybe love was too strong of a word.”

“It isn’t, it’s just-” Bill says, the protest cutting off as his throat knots around the magnitude of honesty.

Holden’s eyes are glazed blue in the flash of streetlamps speeding past them. His mouth purses softly as realization settles across his expression. For once, he shuts his mouth and turns his gaze back to his cellphone.

When they reach Quantico, they walk across the crowded parking lot together. Bill checks his watch, noting that they’re five minutes late.

The party is located in the dining hall where the fully stocked bar is already flowing with a variety of wines and cocktails. Bill makes a beeline for the whiskey while Holden immediately gets pulled into a lively conversation with some of their co-workers about the merits of psychology in horror films.

Bill sips his whiskey in the corner while Holden mingles. He’s better at these shindigs than Bill, and it’s probably for the best that they mostly keep their distance tonight considering the conversation they just had.

Bill swallows back his first drink and goes back to the bar for another. His stomach knots as he replays the discussion in his mind, every word marinating in the pit of fear opening up in the back of his mind. Watching Holden’s animated gesticulating from across the dining hall, he suddenly wonders whether or not he’s being ridiculous. Two other men in the discussion with Holden have their arms wrapped around each other. He wants to know what that feels like, holding onto Holden like he’s a prize deserving of being shown off rather than cowering in the corner for fear that someone might judge him.

“Hey, Bill.” Wendy says, jolting him from his thoughts as she approaches.

Kay is on her heels, fingers wrapped loosely around Wendy’s.

“Hey.” Bill says, “How are you?”

“Good.” Wendy says, leaning in to give him a hug. “You look awfully lonesome standing over here by yourself.”

“They’re discussing horror films.” Bill says, motioning at Holden’s group of friends. “I’m not exactly up to par on the subject.”

Wendy chuckles, “Not a horror film junkie? I’m a little surprised.”

“I was in the Army.” Bill says, “I know what real horror looks like. The fake stuff is just … fake.”

Wendy nods, “I see. Still, I’m sure you would have something to contribute.”

Bill narrows his eyes. “You know I’m not a social butterfly, Wendy. Did Holden say something to you?”

Wendy cocks her head to one side curiously. “About what?”

“Never mind.” Bill says, cutting his glance away.

Half an hour later, the catering service brings out dinner and bottles of champagne. The director makes a speech before wishing everyone a good night. Upbeat pop music thuds over the roar of conversation while the dinner plates are cleared away, and all the party attendees slouch over their cups.

Bill leans back in his chair while Holden braces his elbows on the table, leaning into the conversation with other agents at their table. Bill watches the back of his head, the curve of his spine, his mouth smiling wildly as the alcohol is quick to get him tipsy.

Something warm and humming wraps itself around his ribs, smothering whatever withering fear he’d carried into this evening. Maybe it’s the whiskey or the champagne. Maybe it’s the candlelight, and Holden’s hair gleaming like bronze in the low, yellow light. Maybe it’s his joy and radiance, everything about him that had drawn Bill in like a moth to the flame, forcing him to lay down his insecurities at the threshold of their relationship and plunge ahead with nothing but each other to hold onto. Now all that’s standing in the way is Bill’s stubbornness of a piece of goddamn paper. A signature, a declaration - because truly, that’s what it is.

Across the table, one of the other agents, Jared, is vividly recounting him and his boyfriend’s weekend escapade at the gay strip club. Holden doubles over the table in laughter as the story gets more and more wild, perhaps embellished a bit.

“You should come with us next time.” Jared says, “I know you would be a lot of fun.”

“Ah, I don’t know.” Holden says, running anxious fingers through his hair. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like it.”

Bill shifts uncomfortably in his chair, wondering if the rest of the group can see his face getting unbearably hot.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Jared says.

“Yeah, um, it’s kind of new.” Holden says, his tone dwindling. “It’s not like … official or whatever.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “But he’s already telling you what to do.”

“What, no.” Holden says, sharply. “I’m just being respectful of boundaries.”

“Okay, sure.” Jared says, shrugging. “But you should really come with one of these days. It’s a helluva lot more fun than this party.”

Bill clears his throat. “I’m going to step outside for a cigarette.”

Holden’s gaze cuts sharply over his shoulder, eyes speaking a number of racing questions even as his mouth purses anxiously.

Bill shoves his chair back, and escapes the stifled atmosphere of the party. Outside, the bassline of the music thuds a distant vibration while the blue sky lapses into melted purples and pinks of sunset.

Sliding a cigarette to the corner of his mouth, Bill lights up and draws in a deep breath. Nicotine floods his strung-out veins while Holden’s voice echoes in his mind. It’s not official. Well, that makes it sound like some kind of quick and dirty hookup. Bill flinches at the thought.

He takes his time smoking his cigarette, thinking and vacillating, shivering and pushing aside his fears.

He has a lot to lose. His pride, for one. His standing as a military veteran. His position as a father trying to co-parent with his ex-wife. His own self-identity. It’s all at stake while Holden, already out to the world, has nothing to lose.

The only thing they both stand to lose is each other. The thought strikes him as if it had dropped out of the clear blue sky.

Dropping his cigarette to the ground, Bill turns and marches back into the dining hall.

The music has quieted down as couples migrate to the open floor at the middle to slow dance in muted, half-drunk intimacy. Piano notes tinkle across the speakers just before the Penguins begin to croon “Earth Angel.”

Bill scans the room for Holden, quickly picking him out of the crowd. He shoulders his way past clusters of agents and department heads, muttering apologies in his haste. As he approaches, Holden glances up from his conversation, and their eyes meet from across the room.

Holden’s wide blue eyes regard him with a faint frustration that quickly melts into hopeful longing when he sees the look on Bill’s face. His mouth slips partially open, tongue running anxiously across his lower lip.

Bill jolts back into motion. Closing the few yards of distance between them, he shoulders his way into the circle of Holden’s friends.

“Excuse me.” He mutters, ignoring Jared’s glare of disbelief as he grabs Holden’s hand.

“Bill-” Holden begins, his tone colored with surprise.

“Can I have this dance?” Bill asks, nodding at the floor where half a dozen other couples are wrapped in warm embraces.

Holden blinks in shock for a moment before a smile creeps at the corner of his mouth, quickly evolving into a excited grin.

“Yes.” He says, fingers wrapping around Bill’s. “Yes, you can.”

Grasping tightly on Holden’s hand, Bill leads them away from the group, all of whom are standing still with their mouths open in growing disbelief. As they reach the dance floor, Bill hears one of them break the silence with a shout of encouragement.

“Are you sure about this?” Holden asks as Bill pulls him around against his chest.

“No.” Bill says, reaching down to grab Holden’s hand, and bring it up into position.

“I don’t know how to dance. Do you?”

“It’s slow dancing.” Bill says, tightening his palm against Holden’s lower back. “Here, just lean against me and sway. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s all there is to it?” Holden echoes, his mouth tipping with mild amusement.

“Hey, you can gloat later.” Bill says, “Just let me have this.”

“Okay.” Holden says, leaning in closer.

He nudges his nose hesitantly against Bill’s, asking for yet another boundary to be crossed.

Ignoring the stares of people around them, Bill leans in to place a chaste kiss against Holden’s questing mouth.

Holden closes his eyes, humming a sigh of relief.

Bill chuckles a small, choked laugh. He buries his face in Holden’s neck, hiding the sting of tears in his eyes. Holden’s body leans into him, so close that he can feel the beats of their hearts connecting. The music swells over the speakers: Earth angel, earth angel. I’m just a fool in love. In this moment, Bill doesn’t care whether he looks like a fool or not - to himself, to their co-workers, hell even their bosses. Maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow still afraid of what signing some silly relationship disclosure form means, but for tonight, this dance is declaration enough.

#bill x holden #mindhunter #my writing #rominatrix

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