Chapter Text
Bill Denbrough, without a doubt, was a romantic. His favorite movies were The Way He Looks and About Time. He only kept his Facebook because he liked looking at people’s engagement photos. His sketchbook was full of couples that he saw sitting together at the park, on the subway, at his favorite diner. His Spotify had playlist after playlist of cheesy love songs that he pretended to like ironically, but which he really adored. Bill was in his mid-20s, wrote mystery novels for a living, had a pet cat named Buttercup, and spent 20 minutes in the greeting card section every time he went to Target, just to read the romance ones. He was hopeless.
Because Bill Denbrough sucked at dating.
It was probably due to his childhood stutter which had formed insecurities that leaked into his adulthood, even when the stutter itself stopped. Or it might’ve been because he was a writer and the worlds he could create in his head were often better than the ones that he would find when he actually looked to reality. Or maybe it was because he was just a goddamn coward who was too nervous to talk to and get to know strangers. He honestly hadn’t been on a date since he had broken up with his college girlfriend, Audra, and they’d ended things more than a year prior.
So, his “friends” had pulled together and demanded that he go on a blind date, the very idea of which made Bill want to grow an actual turtle shell so that he could hide in it. However, when Bev pulled her puppy dog eyes it was very hard to say no, so Bill, despite objections, found himself tucked into a booth at a bar, waiting for a blind date who was very late.
Usually the tardiness would annoy him, but honestly he was okay with it. It was more time for Bill to try and get his fucking nerves under control. He was nervous first because dates are scary. What if he didn’t like the guy? What if he was a complete asshole? What if he was absolutely perfect and thought Bill was a hideous weirdo? What if he showed up, saw Bill, and then left? It was also the first date he’d been on with a guy in a long time, since freshman year of college. That wasn’t as much of a big deal but… the paranoid part of him thought that maybe it would change things, maybe he was totally unprepared for how a date with a boy worked nowadays.
The other problem (yeah, he had a lot of problems, okay? Don’t judge him, okay, you came here to read about Bill’s life, let’s try to have an open, supportive attitude, yeah?) was that he was pretty sure the cute boy a couple booths down from him was staring at him. And he was also ninety-nine percent sure he blew the guy in the bathroom of a shady club a couple weeks back.
And okay, yeah, he knows we just established that Bill is bad at talking and getting to know strangers, so it should come as a surprise that Bill hooked up in a club. And honestly, it was, for Bill too. He’d gone out that night with Bev and Ben and for some reason, Bill decided it would be fun to go drink for drink with Hanscom.
(Quick note about Hanscom: he was very buff, very tall, and very much a poetic soul. And if we know anything, historically, about poetic souls it’s that they like to drink. Historically absinthe. But not exclusively. For our purposes, with Ben, it was mostly flavored vodka.)
So, needless to say, Bill got fucking hammered. And so he was braver and actually dancing with Beverly when Carly Rae Jepsen came on, which meant that he was in exactly the right place at the right time to bump into an endearingly drunk boy with cheekbones like a sculpture and a smile like an angel. Bill had been smitten, mostly because the boy was gorgeous and Bill was drunk so his natural inclination towards heart eyes went way up, but also because Stan was fun. He had a dry sense of humor and a quick wit and he kept Bill on his toes the whole night, even plastered drunk.
Then, amidst their drunken grinding, Stan had bumped into a sorority girl and ended up with most of her cosmopolitan spilled all over his button-down shirt. And so Bill, being the gentleman that he was, offered to take him to the bathroom to help clean him up.
And in the process, he sucked his dick. And then they fucked, BUT, the important part is that right after, when the two of them were walking back to the bar, Beverly had tugged Bill’s hand and pulled him to the side, asking him where he was. And when Bill turned back around, Stan was gone. He searched the club, but was too drunk and useless to really try too hard. So, Bill figured he’d lost his shot. He was never going to see Stan again. But, of course, once again Bill was wrong. (Bill has been wrong many a time in his life, but those are stories for another day…links to follow.)
Because a couple minutes after Bill hung up with Beverly, complaining that his whole thing was stupid and pretending to be upset because his date was late (because he probably should’ve been), Bill looked up to see him standing at his booth, biting his lip once before opening his mouth to say something. For some reason, Bill stood up quickly instead of… speaking. Was he trying to be polite? It’s polite to stand when someone you’ve had sex with comes to your table, right?
“Hi, are you-” Bill somehow managed before the boy cut him off.
“Your blind date? Looks like I could be.” He said with an easy smile, sounding confident even as his stance seemed kind of nervous. Bill felt his jaw drop, opening and closing a couple times as he processed that because… no he wasn’t.
“Oh, you’re… wait… is Richie your first name?” Bill asked. Stan/Richie gave him a weird look, which was fair. But Bill was still trying to figure out what was going on, because he was drunk when they hooked up but how drunk? He was pretty sure he’d been moaning… Stan? Not Richie? Yes, to be fair, Stan/Richie had curly hair and amazing cheekbones but there was… very little way.
“… Yes.” He replied and okay. He was lying. Bill knew it, he just didn’t know why.
He also didn’t care.
“Interesting,” Bill said, staring at Stanley for a long moment before catching himself being creepy and shaking his head, “Wanna sit down?”
“Yes, please.” Stan said, smiling softly and fuck. Bill remembered that smile, that was really the cincher on Bill needing to fuck him all those weeks ago. It was the same one, gentle but coy, soft but so fucking enticing. It made Bill think he knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to give it to him (and yeah, he did).
“So, Bill what do you do-”
“Have you ever been to The Peach Pit?” Bill asked suddenly, unable to stop himself. Stan gaped a little, probably equally shocked at being cut-off and at the content of the question.
“Um, the club downtown?” he asked, brows furrowing. It was a cute look.
“Yeah, you ever been?”
“Why, are you looking for a recommendation?”
“No, I just… think I might’ve seen you there, before. That’s all.”
“Oh. Well, I think I went there for my roommate’s birthday a couple weeks back maybe? But honestly, I was pretty sloshed so I don’t remember if that’s for sure true or not.” Stan explained, looking slightly embarrassed. Bill nodded. Guess that explained why he didn’t make any mention of it, he didn’t remember that it happened.
That kind of bummed Bill out, honestly. Like it wasn’t the BEST sex he’d ever had (it would be hard to pull that off in a cramped bathroom stall that probably hadn’t been cleaned in weeks), but it was pretty fucking hot, if you asked Bill. Bill gave a top-notch blow job. He would’ve preferred Stan remember it.
“You were that drunk? You don’t remember… anything?” Bill pushed and Stan smiled, tilting his head to the side.
“No, I don’t. Sorry.” Stan shrugged and Bill took a moment to consider his options. Honestly, he wasn’t big on lying to people. And he didn’t really think it was fair to Stan (not Richie, don’t think he’d forgotten about that) that he keep it a secret that he knew what Stan looked like when he came. Like, it’s a really intimate thing to have had sex with someone and Bill didn’t want to keep that a secret.
So he should just straight up tell him, right? Get everything out in the air? Plus, Bill saw this is as the fates handing him a really good card. He had a second chance with the hot guy from the club, how often does that happen? So, he also had to consider: what was the best course of action to make sure that he got to date the fuck out of Stan?
“So, I think that, in a relationship, it is very important to start off on the right foot. And the right foot usually equates to honesty and communication,” Bill explained, watching Stan’s eyes widen slightly, “wouldn’t you agree? Stan?”
###
Why the hell did Stan ever listen to Eddie? He gave the worst advice.
“Oh fuck.” Stan muttered, rolling his neck and squeezing his eyes shut, “I’m guessing we met at The Peach Pit that night?” Bill smiled and bit his lip to stop a laugh.
“Um, yes. We danced and we kind of talked all night and then I … I actually blew you in the bathroom stall.” Bill explained, words coming out in a rush.
Stan gaped. He began wracking his brain as he thought back to a couple weeks ago. Could he really have hooked up with a guy this hot and then… forgotten? Wow, he was never drinking again, he thought as he sipped his whiskey sour.
“That’s impossible. You’re messing with me.” Stan deadpanned, but Bill winced and shook his head.
“Nope. If I was messing with you, how would I know that you have a tattoo of a blue jay on your shoulder blade. Or that you really like mojitos and dancing to Ariana Grande. Or that you are pretty into biting. Or that your nipples are really sensiti-”
“Okay, I get it. Thanks.” Stan cut him off, bringing a hand to cover his eyes, “So we hooked up in a club bathroom and I forgot about it.”
“It would seem that way.”
“Hmmm. That is interesting.” He mused as he swirled the liquid in his glass. Bill laughed and leaned back in his seat.
“‘That is interesting’? That’s all you have to say?” Bill asked. Stan shrugged and forced himself to meet Bill’s gaze.
“Well, I’m just thinking that… I’m probably the only person in the whole universe to ever be in this situation. And now I have to choose how to move forward from here.” Stan explained, making Bill laugh again.
“What are your options, do you think?”
“Oh, well, I could go with the lying option. I could say that no, I don’t have any tattoos and I am a total virgin and then leave and never talk to you again. That one’s kind of a bummer,” Stan said and Bill nodded in agreement, “I could lie and insist that I am Richie but say that I have to go to clubs under the name of Stan and hook up with random guys for work and then… sleep with you for one more night and then never talk to you again.”
“I don’t really like that option either. But I WOULD have questions about who would possibly need to employ you.” Bill said, shaking his head, but still smiling incredulously. Stan frowned but agreed.
“Yeah, it’s still kind of a bummer. The final option is that I could tell you the truth, which is wild but I could try it.”
“And what would the truth be?” Bill asked, serious but also looking like he was fighting a smile
“The truth? Oh, um, that would be: I’ve been staring at you since my friend and I walked into the bar and then we overheard your conversation that you were meeting a blind date. Then he convinced me to pretend to be your blind date because he’s a bad friend who is braver than me. And then I came over here and apparently you already knew me, and honestly, I’m kind of upset that I don’t remember having sex with you because… well, you’re gorgeous. And then, if I went with this option, I would probably ask you if you maybe wanted to remind me what it was I was forgetting?” Stan knew it was a gamble, but he’d already fucked this up so he might as well have gone for it. Plus, Bill was smiling so.
“I like that third option.” Bill said, “But, this time you’ve gotta let me take you out afterwards.” He’d moved forward in his seat so now they’re legs were bumped together and their faces incriminatingly close. It made Stan’s breath shorten.
“Oh do I?” Stan whispered and Bill grinned, nodding.
“Yes. Please, I can’t let you get away twice, Stan. This is fate, us finding each other again!” Bill insisted and Stan laughed.
“Fate? Oh my God, are you serious? You’re a sap, aren’t you? A gooey romantic?” Stan teased but Bill just nodded, acting confident despite his blush.
“Guilty as charged. You’re not?” Bill asked. Stan shook his head but didn’t move any further away.
“No. But… I’ll let you try to convince me why I should be, at dinner.” Stan said, and as he did he heard a door bang open behind him, but neither of them even turned to look, any possibility of someone ruining the moment between them gone.
“Can I kiss you?” Bill asked, still grinning. Stan nodded and leaned in, internally thanking God that Eddie gave such good advice.