Chapter Text
There were two things that Billy Russo did not care for, and those were love and luck.
Billy was not a man intimate with the concept of fortune, of luck. His wealth dared to prove him wrong, but he did not amass his wealth or success from fortune. Fortune was a way of saying the cards were just stacked in your favour at the start, and favour was not something Billy knew well either. He worked, he worked hard for what he had, and everything he had he regarded with an air of self-assurance (and something that toed the line of smugness) because it all served as a reminder that he had made it for himself. Not luck. Certainly not favour.
And love? Please. For people like Frank, love came easily, love fit in their lives. It made Frank softer, but not weak, Billy understood that much. When Frank met Karen, he became fiercer somehow, even deadlier. And all the fucking power to him, Billy thought. But in his line of work and the way he was as a man? Love didn’t fit in his goals. Certainly not the type of love his friends advocated for.
So Billy Russo sat third-wheel. He watched in passive fascination Frank growing weaker and stronger at the same time. Curtis called him soft, but Frank never seemed to mind. If someone called Billy soft, he’d rip their head off with his bare hands.
He was sitting now with the aforementioned lovers, facing them from his designated chair in their apartment. Curtis sat on the couch between Billy and them. He was entranced in the football game, taking occasional swigs of beer and arguing with Frank. Billy didn’t pay much attention- football wasn’t his thing, but he didn’t turn down a chance to be with his friends.
He didn’t love his friends, per se; they were his family, as soldiers were, and he trusted them, and he enjoyed their presence. Karen, he was fond of, and that was that. When he glanced over at her, it was at the second her phone rang, obnoxiously loud.
“Shit, sorry,” she sighed, checking the caller. “I gotta take this, hope you don’t mind.”
No one did.
She answered the call as she lifted Frank’s arm from her shoulder and stood up to walk to the adjacent kitchen. Billy nonchalantly followed her with his empty glass and plate. She pointed him in the direction of the sink, and as he washed his dishes, he caught snippets of the voice on the other end of the line.
“That’s great, you know? Anything to get out… no, you know what? You can totally come and crash, Frank and I don’t mind at all,” Karen said, listening intently. Billy passively heard the words ‘ready’ and ‘timing’. “If you’re coming ahead of your stuff… good idea… I’m glad you came to me, really, I can’t wait to see you. When will you be here? Awesome… we’ll come get you. No, no, don’t worry at all. Yeah! We’ll see you tomorrow!” Karen ended the call, and leaned back against the kitchen counter with her eyes closed as she slid Billy a decent bottle of whiskey.
“Just a little bit, please,” she said to him, not opening her eyes. He took out a glass and filled it to her liking, sliding it back to her.
“Friend fell on hard times?” he guessed. Karen finally looked at him, eyeing him up and down in habitual suspicion, then relaxing. The two of them weren’t especially close, but they had some time ago adopted the type of friendship that came from having mutually had their lives saved by Frank Castle.
“Um, yeah,” she replied slowly, pocketing her phone and taking a sip from her glass, “an old friend of mine from Vermont is moving down here. For work. They’re staying with me and Frank until their place is all set up and their stuff gets here.”
He hummed in acknowledgement. No words were spoken between them, and when Curtis and Frank’s deafening cheers beckoned them back to the living room, Billy had dismissed the whole thing. When the game was over, Karen caught Frank up with her friend’s news, and when Frank simply nodded and kissed her tenderly on the cheek, Billy scoffed again at his friend’s passivity. That night, he went through the next day’s events with a fine-toothed comb, prepared his clothes and his breakfast, and fell asleep promptly in his own bed.
It wasn’t until nearly a week later that Frank called Billy’s cell to call in a favour as he was leaving work. Karen’s friend needed help moving into their new place- just some boxes, they didn’t have much.
“I was gonna ask Curt first, but he’s running some seminar that night,” Frank finished with a short laugh. Billy chuckled and checked his schedule beside him on his desk. It was his first day off since he had last seen Frank and Karen, but he wasn’t going to do much anyways. If anything, it would be good for him to lift boxes all day.
“Yeah, I’ll be there, send the address,” Billy replied, and leisurely let Frank lead the conversation as he left his office.
“Yeah, she- fuck, they’re nice. Cute, Bill, a bit young for you, but they’re cute,” Frank commented. Billy raised his eyebrow at that.
“Don’t get all excited, asshole,” he added, as if he saw Billy’s reaction. “Uh, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say, but Karen says sh- they’re all broken up about some dick in Vermont. Not the type of broken up that needs your idea of help.”
“Oh? My idea of help, fucker?” Billy let out a laugh and started his car.
“You know what I mean. Just come and be decent,” Frank finished, and he heard on the other end Karen calling for him. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow, brother.”
Billy gave Karen’s friend a bit more thought over his dinner. Young and cute was young and cute, but it wasn’t like he was trying to get laid at the moment, and he didn’t want to mess with Karen anyways if she found out.
Billy Russo set out his clothes for the next day, sent some emails, prepared his breakfast and went to sleep giving half a thought about which cologne he was going to wear tomorrow.
-
There had been a problem getting all your possessions from Fagan Corners to New York City. It would be some days after you were planning to arrive to settle the finances of your new apartment that your things would come, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stay in your apartment that soon anyways. But you weren’t one to fuss too hard, so you called Karen, asked her if you could take their couch for a week, and that was that. You had had to sell your car to help pay for the bachelor apartment (the prices in the city were disgusting), so you ended up taking the train to reunite with your closest childhood friend.
You weren’t sure what to say when Karen had introduced you to her hulk of a boyfriend at the station. She was a tall woman, and Frank wasn’t too much taller than her, but he towered over you easily in his all-black attire, and when he shook your hand, you had to flex your fingers for a second afterwards. At the same time, he was so pleasant and polite, he tried his damndest to get a hold of your pronouns when you corrected him. He genuinely didn’t know what to do with the bread you baked as a thank-you for letting you stay, but after the third night you found the container empty. You saw, though, on the drive to their place that Karen had found love in him. That was all it took for you to loosen up around the guy that had allegedly killed 37 people.
37, on the record.
You knew Karen well- you were the only person she stayed in contact with from her hometown. She was always the person you went to, so when your boyfriend had torn your heart in half, that’s just what you did. She didn’t think twice about offering you a position at the newspaper she worked at, even though you already had some job prospects lined up.
You spent most of your first few days in New York listening to Karen tell you all about the things she’d love for you to see, then running errands for them so you could get used to the area. The night before your things were scheduled to arrive, Frank cautiously offered you a glass of orange juice and sat on the chair next to your makeshift bed.
“Look, my friend Billy offered to come help move your stuff in tomorrow,” he spoke softly. He always spoke softly around you and strangers, a little less around Karen. The loudest you’ve heard him was with whoever he was just talking to on the phone. “You don’t have to worry about thanking him or anything, he probably owes me for something.”
You nodded, grateful. Then you thought for a second. “Did you want me to make more chocolate bread anyways?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to get stuff for it, remind me once I’m settled in,” you laughed. “Tell me about your friend. Billy?”
“Uh, yeah,” Frank sighed out, “‘ve known him since our days in the Marines. Lieutenants, me and him. Best man I’ve ever known. Besides Curtis, who you’ve met-” you nodded, remembering two days before when Frank’s friend dropped off paperwork “-Billy’s, uh, he’s doing good for himself now. He does military contracting, got his own private company. And he’s- he’s not too bad on the eyes.” He told you that last bit with a half-smile, reaching across to nudge you awkwardly. You snorted.
“I’m not interested in that sorta thing, but thank you,” you said, finishing your glass and setting it on the coffee table. “I mostly came to New York for myself. I guess a lot of people say that, but I was kind of losing it at home, you know? I wasn’t doing anything for me. Always for Nate, or for other people. And they knew it too. They knew they could get it from me. I was being used. So I’m here now.”
That was about the most you’ve said about yourself to Frank without Karen there, and it wasn’t even a great thing about yourself. It was exactly what you didn’t want to talk about with new people, even if Frank knew a little more from Karen. You covered your mouth, looking up at Frank to apologize for overindulging. He held up a hand.
“I get it,” he consoled. “I mean, not the same, but… war does that to you. You lose yourself. You do what you’re told. You come home with all this freedom, and then what, you know?” He coughed lightly, then stood up to collect your glass. “Me, Billy, we didn’t really know what the hell to do with ourselves. But yanno, you establish a routine, you recognize what you can and can’t do, you find your way. You find someone that helps you. You’ll get by.”
Thinking about your tumultuous last few weeks in Fagan Corners, you remembered how alone you had felt. Your parents and your brother had hugged you goodbye at the station, but it felt more like they were glad to see you leave. Not that you were a presence there, anyways. When Nate broke up with you, you holed up in your room, sitting in the emptiness. Then when you decided to move, you holed up in your room making the arrangements. Surely your family wanted the best for you, even if they weren’t too sure how to help you get there. They just didn’t get what you were going through.
But now, within less than a week of knowing Frank, he understood in a second what had taken you weeks to justify to your family. So maybe he was right. You just needed to surrender to time to heal and find the right friends. You lay down on the couch while Frank left to get ready for bed.
You fell asleep thinking about routine, and finding people that understood you, and you mentally made a note to not find any love trouble before you figured yourself out.
-
The next day, close to noon, after his morning workout and his shower and his skin pampering and his breakfast, Billy parked his Rolls Royce at the address Frank had given him. He had meticulously sifted through his collection of colognes and decided on one he perceived as friendly and subtle, but classy and guaranteed to grant him a good first impression. It didn’t matter who it was- Billy Russo went above and beyond.
When Frank, Karen, and her friend parked behind his car, Billy stepped out and was greeted with a tight hug. Frank pulled away quickly, wrinkling his nose.
“What the hell’s that smell?” he laughed, shoving Billy’s shoulder. “We’re handling boxes, not congressmen.”
Billy returned the smile and held his hands up in defense. “You told me to be decent. Here I am.”
“Yeah, asshole, here you are.” Frank turned around and searched past Karen for the other person coming from his car. “Hey, come over here and meet Russo.”
And there you were.
For a split second, Billy wondered if he had overdone it with the choice in cologne, but quickly brushed the thought off. He didn’t use this one often. He hadn’t settled into the smell yet. You smiled, said hello, introduced yourself. Billy caught a whiff of the scent you wore when you shook his hand- it was subtle, but it suited you well. He looked you up and down, taking in your hair, your plain clothes. You were put together nicely. Cute.
“Hey, thanks for taking your day off to help me,” you said to him as the four of you entered your building and made for the stairs. “Frank told me. It’s really kind of you, you don’t even know me.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Billy shook his head. “You’re a friend of Karen, I’m a friend of Frank. I probably owe the bastard anyway.” You continued until you found your apartment number. You dug out the key from your pocket, flashing a bright smile at Karen, who was just behind Billy. He blinked twice, looking at you whisper to yourself as you fit the key in. Your smile was nice; it suited your face.
“The big moment!” you exclaimed as you all but ran right inside. Not that there was very far to run. In something like fifteen steps Billy walked the whole length of the apartment.
His goddamn office was bigger than your new place. He observed the corner space behind him, reserved for a bed that physically couldn’t be anything more than maybe a queen. The main space he stood in was decorated solely with a scuffed-up wooden coffee table. To Billy’s right was the ‘kitchen’, consisting of a white, L-shaped counter that took up the expanse of the wall it was up against, then the stove, sink, and cabinets crammed into the corner opposite the short end of the L. The last tenant hadn’t even left you a couch.
No one gave him any numbers as to how well you were getting by, but Billy hoped they’d bring a couch with your stuff.
“There’s so much natural light!”
You, on the other hand, were beaming, inspecting every nook and cranny of the place (it didn’t take you very long). Frank was making sure the bathroom worked fine, and Karen stood in the closed balcony, from which there was indeed sunlight lighting up the majority of the apartment.
“It’s cozy,” Frank concluded as he joined you in the main space and sat down on the coffee table. Billy was sure it would break if he joined, so he stayed in front of you as you marveled at what was easily a third the size of his home.
“It’s sized appropriately for a certain number of occupants,” you corrected him. Billy hid his smile. “I’ll put some plants on the balcony, it’ll be nicer. Maybe once I get my bed here it’ll look like someone can live here.”
“How about a couch?” Billy pressed. You shook your head.
“We’ll get there. Maybe. Might just make visitors sit on the counter.” You turned to him, then, with another nice smile. He hesitantly returned it, so as to not alarm you that he was starting to feel trapped.
“Truck’s here!” Karen exclaimed, taking your hand and pulling you to the door. Billy made to follow them, but was stopped by a light touch on his elbow.
“You doing okay?” Frank asked quietly, standing up to face him. Billy scoffed, waved his hand away.
“Making a good first impression on someone that we’ll probably see again,” he shrugged. “I think I’m doing great.” Frank let go, narrowing his eyes. “Come on, they’ll probably want us moving things.”
Frank was right when he had first called. There wasn’t much to move. Once everyone had made a few trips up and down, Billy was shocked to find that they were already done and he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Your bachelor apartment was already looking more lived-in with everything in the corner where a couch should have been.
“I really can’t thank you guys enough for taking me in on such a short notice.” You gave a crushing hug to Frank and Karen as you spoke. When you sat next to Billy on the counter, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Instead, you put your hand on his upper arm, resting it there. “And Billy, for helping? It probably would’ve taken me, like, 20 more minutes to do it if you weren’t here.” At that, he genuinely laughed, but he felt uncomfortable at the feeling of your hand on him. It felt like you were too much, even with his sweater separating your hand from him. He felt the room closing in on him again, and didn’t even think before opening his mouth.
“If you need help unpacking, I’m glad to give you a half hour,” he blurted out. What the fuck? That was smooth enough, but still… You laughed, leaning into him with your hand, and suddenly Billy wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep with you or put five miles distance between him and you. He didn’t even know which one he would prefer.
“Did you have dinner plans?” Karen asked him, pulling him back to Earth. Thank God. “You live near this good Indian place my friend Foggy knows. A few blocks where we came from.”
“I’d better head off,” Billy spoke suddenly, standing up and brushing himself off, “there’s stuff I should wrap up before I go back to work tomorrow.”
He turned back to you. “Pleasure to meet you. Hope you enjoy the city.” Frank had been eyeing him since you’d sat down, but now he just shrugged. Billy waved to Karen and strode for the open door, down the flight of stairs, and out to his car. He didn’t bother looking back up at your balcony, but he had a feeling the three of you were watching him leave.
He drove on autopilot, desperate to clear his body of the tension and unease that was more pronounced now that he had left. What was with you that had him so wound up? Frank was right, you were young and you were cute, but there was something about the way you looked at him that made him want to both turn away in mild disgust, and keep staring at you all the same. Maybe it was some “incompatible energy” shit that Curtis would probably preach about.
He ended up at one of his preferred bars, and sat himself down for a drink. He paid for the lady sitting across from him, one who looked him up and down with a sly grin before inviting him to sit with her. The rest was fluid, robotic motion that came easier to him than having to shake your hand and watch you lift boxes for an hour. Maybe he was just itching to get laid. He’d feel better soon enough. The woman, Irene, was touching his arm in the same place you had not half an hour earlier. Billy took a deep breath, and ran his fingers up her hand, to her arm, then settled on her shoulder.
A smile eased its way to his face.
Meanwhile, you were sat cross-legged with a takeout tupperware of lamb methi, watching Frank pace around, demonstrating the best way to set up your place. You were only half paying attention, you were thinking more about his very attractive friend (who you hadn’t known would be that attractive and nice-smelling; if you had, maybe you’d have worn a nicer pair of shorts). He didn’t talk to you unless you said something first, but seemed fine around Frank. You couldn’t help but reach out to him when you spoke, and were surprised to find his arm tense before he left so suddenly.
“Hey, did I do something to set your friend off?” you piped up when Frank had finished talking. He looked at you in surprise, then to Karen, who shrugged and didn’t look at much else than her food.
“I mean, usually he’s a lot better,” Frank explained. “More well-adjusted to most social shit than me, at least. He’s probably just nervous, doesn’t know what to do with himself.”
“That’s not like him at all,” Karen interjected, cocking her head, “he’s always really put together. And, yeah, he was a lot more tense than usual, but it’s probably a work thing, isn’t it?”
“Nah, you don’t know Billy like I do,” Frank replied. “Son of a bitch was a deer in the headlights as soon as he saw you-” he gestured back to you “-if ya ask me, he probably likes you and doesn’t know what to do about it. Shit, he isn’t used to thinking about more than himself for more than a few minutes at a time.” He chuckled to himself, taking in your expression. Karen snickered and nodded in agreement, having seemingly come to the same conclusion.
That was unexpected. And definitely not something you needed at the moment. You had literally promised to yourself yesterday that you wouldn’t get into any trouble with feelings, and here you were, a week after starting yourself anew, interested in someone that sounded like a narcissistic asshole the more Frank joked about him. The conversation directed elsewhere once he got a new idea for your kitchen, but you couldn’t bring yourself to absorb it.
“Billy’s a good guy, honest,” he reassured you, probably picking up on your pause. He took Karen’s hand, the two of them getting ready to leave. “He’s just not in touch with his feelings or whatever. You seem to be though, thank Christ. Just do you. Russo’ll ease up on ya.”
Not too far away, the Russo in question entered his lofty apartment with a satisfied groan, stretching as he took off his shoes. His hair was messy and he had put his sweater on backwards, but he felt like himself again. He had driven himself and Irene to her place, and when they were done some hours later, he took himself back home. He tossed his clothes in his laundry basket, and prepared himself for tomorrow.
His phone buzzed just when he had fallen into bed, and with a less satisfied groan, Billy reached for it and checked the message.
Frank Castle: Th hell is up with you?
Billy rolled his eyes and typed a reply, irked that Frank hadn’t just called him or waited. Was feeling tense. Problem solved. He ran his hand contentedly over his thighs, relishing in how sore they were.
Frank Castle: Bullsht
There were a few after that, but it had already grown late and Billy knew it would be a long day coming. He skimmed the “thinks they did something wrong” and “stop being a prck”, and gave a hasty apologetic response before turning around and forcing his eyes shut. He had nearly perfected the art of falling asleep in minutes thanks to his time in the Marines. But now, he found himself feeling more awake than before, tracing his fingers back to his arm again and again with a mild guilt.
-
You had set up your bare mattress in the corner (mental note: buy a decent bed frame, then a couch), you lay down and pondered the uneasy fluttering in your chest. It had become quite clear to you during the course of the day that you found Billy Russo quite enticing, but as you remembered Frank’s words, you decided against acting on them. Billy seemed just the right amount of detached-but-welcoming that it would be easy for you to invest too much time trying to win him over. And you weren’t about to turn around and find yourself falling back on your old habits of falling too easily- your experience with Nate had taught you better. You needed to stick to yourself for now; accept the attraction was there, and accept that it just wasn’t the best time.
You’d still have to thank him, though. He hadn’t stayed long, but he did help you out a ton, and you had a feeling you’d see him again anyways, being as close as you were to Karen, and now Frank.
You grumbled to yourself and turned over, reaching for your phone. There was a text from home, which you hastily swiped away for later. You searched his name in Google, and hit enter. There was a flood of articles about him and his company, but you went for what you assumed to be the official website of Anvil. You took a screenshot of the address, then on a whim, saved some of those articles to read later.
You shut your phone off and rolled over to the other side of the mattress, burying your face in your pillow. It didn’t take long for you to drift off, but your last thought before succumbing to sleep was that even though you decided to treat Billy as a neutral, mutual friend, you couldn’t help but feel a special excitement at the prospect of seeing him soon.