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Billy’s grounded because he failed to bring Max home on time. Again.
The thing is… there’s a party he really needs to get to. Because Harrington is going to attend that party, and Billy can’t pass on an opportunity to see the guy, even if he won’t do anything more than “see” him from the other side of a room. Billy’s pathetic like that.
So, he sneaks out. There isn’t much else he can do. It makes his heartbeat skyrocket and his whole body shake from the adrenaline when he climbs out of his window, trying to make as little noise as possible. Once he’s on the ground below, in one piece, he thinks he’s made it, that it was that easy to slip past his father.
Big mistake.
He hears the front door open and he instantly knows he’s screwed. It could be Max or Susan. But it’s not. Of course, it’s not. Billy is never lucky like that.
“Where do you think you’re going, son?”
And, see, that’s a trick question. There’s no right answer to that question. Because Billy is not supposed to go anywhere. He’s supposed to stick to his room like a prisoner in his cell. So, whatever Billy says, it’s probably not going to help his case. It can only worsen his father’s wrath, which can already be seen in his bulging eyes and reddened face. Billy still tries, though. Let it not be said that he’s a quitter.
“I… I was just out for a smoke.”
“Oh, and you deemed it necessary to sneak out by the window, because?”
“I… uh… I just didn’t want to disturb your movie night” is Billy’s lame attempt at a justification.
Neil is far from impressed.
“Give me your car keys.”
“I don’t…” Billy starts, aware that it’s doomed already.
“Don’t take me for a fool, William.”
His father’s tone brooks no argument, so Billy digs the keys to the Camaro out of the right pocket of his leather jacket and comes forward reluctantly to hand them over.
He’s parked the car down the street when he came home from school, close enough not to seem suspicious, but far enough that he could drive away without being noticed. And now, his carefully thought out plan is ruined.
Instead of just taking the keys from his son, Neil takes a hold of his wrist and squeezes so tightly that Billy can’t help but let the keys go. They clatter to the ground a second later, making Billy flinch.
His father then seizes his shirt collar with his free hand and pulls roughly to get Billy’s face close to his.
“Don’t ever try to lie to me again.” Neil’s voice is low, which usually means trouble.
“I’m sorry, sir. I won’t do it again.” Billy says in his best meek voice.
He’s had many, too many, occasions to rehearse the act of contrition, but it’s still not enough for Neil. Nothing ever is. He lets go of Billy's collar and punches him hard, right on the cheekbone, sending him sprawling.
Billy tries to break his fall and ends up hurting the palms of his hands on the gravel covering their driveway. The sting of it lessens the smarting of his cheekbone, where the skin has split open against his father’s ring.
“Pick up the keys.”
Billy obeys and gives them to his father. This time, Neil takes them without trying anything else. Thank God for small mercies.
He’s not finished punishing Billy yet, however.
“And since you needed to be outside so much, I’m not expecting you home until tomorrow morning.” He says, before going back inside and slamming the door behind him.
Billy is momentarily paralyzed, as he hears Neil lock the door, effectively locking his son outside.
Having no other choice, he decides to walk to the party. Carol’s house is quite far from his, but it’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.
He’s not even left his street yet when it starts raining: the universe really does hate Billy Hargrove.
It’s no small rain, either: it’s fucking buckets of water flung from the sky by some vengeful Higher Power.
A tear rolls down Billy’s split cheek, mixing with the raindrops. Soon enough, he’s sobbing and, yes, the weather might seem like a trivial thing to cry over, but Billy’s got many other reasons to cry: the rain is just the last straw.
It’s dark, and Billy’s sight is blurred by tears and rainwater. He can barely tell where he’s going. So, he hears the car that slows down next to him before he sees it.
“Hargrove, what the hell are you doing?”
Of course, it’s Steve fucking Harrington. Just Billy’s luck that the other boy would find him during one of the lowest moments of his life.
“What does it look like, princess? I’m walking.”
Billy means to sound annoyed, but his breathing is ragged and his voice hoarse from all the crying.
“Yeah, I can see that, genius. Why though?”
“Car troubles.”
It’s not technically a lie. Harrington doesn’t nee to know all the details.
“Oh… You going to Carol’s party?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, hop in.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine, Harrington.”
Billy’s still crying wave after wave of warm tears, and he really doesn’t want Steve to notice that.
“Come on, you’re not going to walk all the way over there. It’s dumb. You’re gonna be soaked.”
Billy is soaked already, but he doesn’t argue any longer. He’s too tired to let his pride control his decisions right now. So, he gets in the car. It’s fine at first, because his face is mostly hidden by his wet hair, and the tears aren’t that noticeable because of his overall drenched state. However, nothing can be done about Billy’s red eyes and his suspiciously shaky breathing.
“Why are you crying?”
Where is the dumb clueless Steve that Billy has heard of? Did he choose that day to develop observation skills? Is Billy that cursed?
“I’m not.” Billy denies. It’s a lost cause, but at this point he can’t be bothered.
“Right… we don’t have to talk about it.” Harrington placates.
And Billy hates it.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Harrington.”
He’s getting mad, because he’s got to let his anger out somehow. As always, Steve’s there to take the brunt of it. And, even though it’s convenient, Billy’s gotta stop letting him take it. Because, apparently, Steve is all too willing to.
“Okay, sorry, there’s not.” He agrees, or pretends to, as he makes a U-turn.
“What are you doing? Carol’s house is that way.” Billy says, pointing in the direction they were driving in before, as if Steve didn’t know where his childhood friend lived.
“We’re not going there.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“I don’t feel like going anymore.” Harrington says, as if it wasn’t an obvious lie.
“Well I do, so either turn back or let me out of your car.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“What the fuck? Stop the bullshit, Harrington.” Billy growls.
“It’s not bullshit, it’s a kidnapping. I am kidnapping you.” He replies calmly.
“So that’s it, you’ve gone wacko… you’ve finally lost it.”
“I’ve lost it a long time ago, man. Do keep up.”
Billy rolls his eyes and admits defeat. It’s all he’s able to do tonight, apparently. He lets Harrington drive them to his big empty house, and then he lets him clean the cut on his cheek. Steve doesn’t ask him what happened, but Billy still ends up blurting the truth out.
He’s in dry clothes that Steve lent him, sitting next to him on the couch, in front of the fireplace. He’s feeling warm from the fire, and Steve’s thigh against his, and the whiskey they’ve been drinking, and he ends up spilling his guts, unprompted. Once he’s done telling Steve about Neil, he holds his breath, already regretting his confession. He regrets it a lot less once Steve pulls him into a hug.
Billy’s stupid body flinches, not expecting the contact, and Steve withdraws, mumbling an apology and saying he should have asked if it was alright.
He doesn’t make it very far, though, because Billy recovers from the surprise and prevents him from retreating by encircling Steve’s waist and burying his abused face in his neck.
He’ll probably be very embarrassed about this display in the morning, but right now he feels too comfortable and safe to care.