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Title: Killing Two Birds With One Stone
Part 3 of the Drowning Out Your Love Series
Pairing/Characters: Billy/Charlie
Prompt #229 Break
Word Count: 300
Summary: Having not-so-brotherly feelings of unrequited love rarely ends well for anyone.
Spoilers: Takes place immediately after Man Hunt Episode
Warnings: references to incest
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Numb3rs characters. If I did, the show would be a lot less family friendly.

Author’s Notes: Sequel to Misery Loves Company and Sometimes Love Don’t Feel Like It Should. I want to dedicate this fic to [info]emmademarais and [Bad username or unknown identity: melissima  ]as it never would have been completed without their generosity of time and friendship as well as all their advice, guidance, and feedback. I am a lucky lucky girl.




Novelist Amelia Barr once noted, “The fate of love is that it always seems too little or too much.”


Killing Two Birds With One Stone

Charlie is floating, drifting in the hazy world between sleep and wake, when jarred by a staccato knocking, beating in concert with the queasy throbbing inside his head. Momentarily bewildered, he hauls himself upright. His confusion clears at the sight of one very naked Billy sprawled face down over rumpled sheets, a pillow covering his head. Charlie scarcely takes the effort needed to tug on only his jeans before shuffling toward the motel room’s door.  Pulling it open, he winces at the glaring sun and raises a hand to shield his eyes.

He freezes as he stares at Don– a breakfast peace-offering in hand and an easy smile on his lips. The harsh morning light pours in the room, illuminating everything.  Charlie can only watch, stunned, as Don’s smile fades, his sharp eyes cataloging the evidence: Charlie half-dressed, sex-mussed curls, bite marks trailing down his neck. His arms move abortively, battling instinct to cross his bare chest.  Charlie’s face flushes hot with unease as he follows Don’s troubled gaze, drawn deeper into the room. Sitting barely covered amid a bedlam of sheets, Billy looks anguished before dropping his head into his hands.

Everything slows as Charlie realizes they are all caught in a real-time Markov Chain - the confluence of their desires converging at this moment. He is suddenly flooded with the probabilities of this encounter, all the possible outcomes swirling around his brain, hope spiraling out from the center. And just as abruptly, it ebbs and drains away. Charlie pales, stomach churning, as Don’s features harden back to their typical impenetrable state, his stony silence unbroken. Don shoves the bag into Charlie’s hands, grim determination etched in the line of his jaw, and walks stiffly and unwaveringly away, leaving only desolation in his wake. Limbs leaden, Charlie sinks weakly to the floor as the door swings shuts with a final click.


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