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“Ch–” Stu hisses through his teeth. His breath sighs out as the blade is drawn across his skin and he inhales when It stops. “That’s it…God, you’re good.” He mumbles, more on reflex than conscious thought as Billy gently trails it down his chest. His head is swimming in bliss; his hands circle around Billy’s waist.
Billy looks over Stu beneath him. He looks scruffy and sleepy, like a big dumb dog.
Billy feels his stomach turn and his brows furrow.
“Fuck.” He sets the knife aside on Stu’s bedside table and clumsily crawls off of Stu. He sits at the foot of the bed.
Stu blinks. “Auh? Leaving me hanging…?” He sits up and squints at his friend.
Billy tugs his shirt back on. “Shut up. This is stupid. I’m done.” He’s hunched over with his arms crossed. Stu is perplexed by this shrimpish stance.
“Done? What’d you even mean by that?” He clambers over to clutch Billy but finds himself shoved away. “Dude! You’re being an asshole for no goddamn reason. I wasn’t squirming or nothing. Can’t you just–”
Billy’s fingers dig into his thighs. His dark eyes encircled with chalky white fix on Stu’s face. Twin target signs. “We’re done, Stuart.”
That’s not good.
“Hey…” He reaches out, hand not quite gracing Billy with its touch. “Let’s…uhm, talk? Or whatever.”
“Or whatever.” Billy huffs but scoots a hair closer. His hackles are lowering.
“Did I fuck something up? Like upset you? Was I not, ehrr, sexy enough?”
“Jesus Christ, you’re cute when you keep your mouth shut.”
That is a thing Stu has become perceptive to. There is a fine line between contempt and care. The same distance between joking and sobbing. And Stu is at this moment unable to think of any punchlines to grasp at. He taps his fingers against the sheets with memory of phantom guitar tabs.
Billy feels blood in his ears and gnawing in his stomach. Hungry like the wolves. He glances at the gangly thing beside him. At the big idiot. At his closest friend. When he’s at his limit it’s always using his fists instead of words. He can manage that. Another bruise, split a lip, break a nose, detention. Easy money.
This is not that. Because of him. Because Billy knows the slope of that nose and he can’t bring himself to bruise that skin. Oh, that’s all his. That’s his boy. He grimaces at the thought.
Yuck.
“Really though, Billy. What’d I do?” Stu cautiously pushes further into Billy’s space.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Billy finds his hair pushed out of his eyes. That’s alright. “Something’s wrong with me.”
Stu shifts. “Like. More than usually?”
“More than usual, yes.” He scowls.
Their shoulders nudge. “Enlighten me, Billy boy?”
“Ew.” Billy wraps his sturdy hands around Stu’s arm. He could be crushed. “I just…didn’t have it in me, Stu.”
“Ohhh.” He nods. “That’s fine, it happens to all guys sometimes. Not like I’d take it personal that you couldn’t get it up–” Billy’s grip on Stu’s arm tightens.
“Not like that, gayass.” His gaze falls to the floor. He quiets. “As in, I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Oh. That’s weird.” He traces the hem of Billy’s shirt.
“I know. I just,” His hands tighten but he lets go. He folds against Stu. He needs this. “What if I hurt you?”
“Huh. But that’s the point. You’ve done it before. You know I like it…” He titters.
“No. I could kill you. If I did it wrong. Then it’d be me and no you and the first responders would think we were fags. And you’d be gone.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t just look at me!”
“Sorry–” Stu cups Billy’s face. He traces those cheekbones. “You don’t wanna hurt me?”
“No. Not right now anyway.”
“But you do usual?”
“Usually, yeah.”
Stu does not have any good reason for this. He’s never been the smart one. He might have good enough grades, but that’s only thanks to schmoozing. But if even Billy doesn’t have the answer, he’ll just leave the line blank. It’s funny what a guy like him can take from a guy like Billy. Not that it isn’t a mutual design, but people act like it isn’t. Some power transfer from him to the more warped one. But this is fair. “We don’t gotta do that then. We’re done. Tonight.”
“Okay.” He wraps his arms around Stu’s neck. He sighs. He hates this. Hates being vulnerable. It’s not how this is supposed to go between the two of them.
How they go though, is like this. Falling asleep tangled up together. In the morning, they’ll shower together. Billy will stand there blankly, and Stu will wash his hair. They’ll eat breakfast and Stu will keep Billy’s favourite cereal in his pantry. This is how things go until there is nowhere left to run.
There is no domestic bliss to be found here. When animal magnetism and ruination is what ties two together, the direction walked is unchanging. There are crosshairs in his eyes and a hunger in his heart. Bleeding out and lying on the ornate run in the hallway of the house that they spent their short lives in, the place in which the plan was formed and their fate was sealed, Billy will feel a brief spark of anger; anger that he did not get the life he had he planned. But without enough fire to keep that burning, the feeling he is left with is remorse. Not for anything he has done but what he has failed to do.
They didn’t make it out together. But at least he didn’t make it out alone.