Chapter Text
There are things no one tells you about affairs. They don't tell you, for example, how hard you try to resist falling into them. They don't tell you the guilt of having fallen, or the shame of seeing yourself as the other. They don't tell you that sometimes, no matter how much shame or guilt you feel, you want to fall back into temptation.
No one tells Daisy Jones any of it, nor have they told her many other things about life. She's been on her own for so long that she is used to fucking up and coming up with solutions as she goes.
The only thing Daisy Jones knows after what happened with Billy at the Grammys is that she doesn't want to stop feeling the way she feels about him. She knows it's wrong, but she can't help it.
Billy distances himself from her after that night. He gets on his bus and doesn't come out all night. At soundchecks, he tries to stay as far away from her as possible. They don't speak, she doesn't even believe they look at each other. Daisy tries to drown her grief and shame in alcohol and drugs, but soon realizes that there is no high that can make her forget Billy's arms on her body or his hard thrusts, or the way he whispered obscenities in her ear.
But, beyond the physical, no drug helps her forget how good it feels to sing with him, to connect through music. No amount of alcohol makes her feel similar to when he looks at her, lovingly and gently, as if she is important to him.
Daisy thinks the show tonight is going to be a disaster. They are not speaking to each other and it's the first time they will be together on stage after what happened between them. She can't help but think everyone will know something has changed beyond repair.
She concludes if she goes to his bus and they talk things over, making everything clear, they will be good. If Billy wants to forget about what happened, she can try to do it. For him. For them.
It doesn't mean it's easy. She needs to take at least six pills and drink a whole bottle of alcohol before getting used to the idea of going to his bus. She needs another two pills to dare to knock on the bus door.
When Billy appears in front of her, she doesn't think she will be able to do it. Her tongue gets stuck in her mouth and she can't say anything. They just stare at each other, for which she feels like forever until it's Billy who finally breaks the silence.
"What's wrong, Daisy?"
She thinks she's going to start crying at any moment and hates herself for it. She can feel her chin tremble and the lump in her throat. Something about it all must give her away because he takes her body and pushes her inside the bus.
When they are inside, Daisy feels the dangerous pull she always does when he's around. And Billy feels it too. She can sense it in the way he's looking at her lips while licking his lower lip.
"We need to talk, Billy" She finally says. Billy nods, and she struggles to find the words. "I know what we did... I know..."
She can't find it in herself to say it was a mistake. She tries because she knows that would make things easier for both of them.
"I know you probably regret it" She ends up saying because that's easier. She can talk about how she thinks he feels because that's more manageable than talking about how she feels.
"You know no goddamn thing, Daisy."
Maybe it's the way he says it, his tone scratchy and low, or the way he looks at her as if it takes everything in him not to give in to the temptation of being with her. She doesn't really know what it is, but she finds herself cupping his cheeks and pressing their lips together in a fierce but affectionate kiss.
It surprises her how he immediately responds like he was craving it long before she made the first step. She realizes then he probably was. Billy would never admit he wanted it as much as she did, but the moment she made the first step, he was all in. It was always like that.
The kiss immediately deepened and grew into something more. Billy's hands were everywhere like he couldn't get enough of her. There was no one on the bus, but they still felt a need to hide what was happening. If someone was to find out, things would get way more complicated than they already are.
When the first moan escapes Daisy's mouth, they are far away from being able to stop.
She was wearing a sparkly maxi dress that Billy quickly pulled up to her knees, while she undid the zipper on his pants.
He can't believe he is doing this again, but he can't find it in him to stop. He needs Daisy Jones. She's a drug he can't get enough of. She's the disease and at the same time, she's the cure. If this is what he has to be addicted to for the rest of his life, so be it. He can take it. He can take her.
When the clothes are out of the way and it's just the two of them, half-naked, shaky breaths, so much desire and feels they can't escape from, Billy looks her in the eye.
"I wrote you a song the other day"
Daisy swallows those words. "I wrote you a song, not "I have a song for you". For a long time, both have written about each other without admitting it. They have danced around the fact of being each other's inspiration. But now Billy is admitting reality to her. She may not get "I love you" but this is the closest she knows he can get. And it's enough. It's enough for her.
"I have written songs for you as well" she admits, and he smiles in her collarbone before thrusting into her and filling her with so much passion and desire.
She can never grow tired of this feeling, and he knows he can't deny it anymore. They will be playing a dangerous game, but when haven't they? Weren't they already playing since the day they first wrote a song together? They're just taking it to a whole other level.
They crossed the line in the Grammys and now it's impossible to go back to before. None of them want to.
"What..." Her words are shaky as he goes in deeper and faster. She's trying to make a coherent sentence, though. He's just making it difficult. As always. "What did you call it?"
It takes him a few minutes to answer. He kisses her gently, then passionately, then leaves hickeys in her skin because he has found out he loves marking her as his. He moans in her ear and lets her moan in his. He believes people outside the bus can smell the sense of sex, lust, and love there is between them without seeing them.
He marvels when she moans so loud his ears ring. When her whole body becomes weak and he must hold her because she has reached the end. She kisses her temple gently.
"It's called Secret Love Song"
A dangerous game it is.
But it's theirs.