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Mike comes into the kitchen to find Billie sitting on top of the counter. The heels of his feet bump incessantly against the cabinets underneath and he has a spoon in one hand, a carton of ice cream in the other.
"Bill, it's three in the fucking morning," Mike grumbles, stopping against the wall just inside the room. He needs to lean against something. He is not entirely sure he's actually awake right now.
Billie sticks another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and Mike can tell he's letting it turn to liquid in his mouth before swallowing it, can see the way Billie's throat rolls with the effort of working the cream down into his stomach.
The man on the counter doesn't say anything. Mike wonders if maybe he is sleepwalking but he remembers quite clearly waking up alone in bed just a few minutes ago. "Come back to bed." He has his arms crossed over his chest, boxers hanging low on his hips.
After another silent moment, Billie puts the spoon in the sink next to him, slides down off the counter, and puts the carton of ice cream back into the freezer. When he stretches up to kiss Mike, the bassist is aware of three things: 1he hasn't felt this settled and content in his life, 2Billie still doesn't know how to sleep through the night on the eve of a release and loves it when Mike comes looking for him, 3the ice cream was chocolate.