Chapter Text
The sun was bright, the sky was blue, the birds were chirping, and there were minimal clouds to be seen– though seemingly just enough to go cloud watching. They were in the meadow, with tall grass and wildflowers and a soft breeze in the background.
This was a dream.
And Billy knew how it went.
As per usual, the person beside him, face and head blurred, laughed and pointed out a cloud that looked like a bunny.
Billy, in response, laughed and pointed out a cloud that looked like a couch.
The interaction repeated like that for a while– laughing then pointing out more clouds then laughing again.
It was peaceful.
Like it always was.
But something changed.
It didn’t go how it was supposed to go.
Instead of the person beside him picking a wildflower from next to their head and comparing it to the next cloud above, they turned and faced Billy.
Confused, Billy turned and faced them as well.
The person next to him leaned in, Billy mirrored their movements, still confused. In a split second soft lips were on his.
Startled, Billy pulled back and for the first time, saw the mysterious person’s face. It was Griffin. Griffin Stagg. The quiet boy he locked eyes with in the library daily.
The sole reason he finds himself at the library everyday after school, finding books to read in the most boring section known to man just so he can look at the boy- and for some reason the boy himself was the reason Billy could never go up to Griffin himself at school. With those hazel eyes and soft brown hair and–
Griffin opened his mouth, but instead of words, the loud sound of his alarm clock going off echoed around him.
What–
Billy awoke with a start, his heart hammering in his chest and his alarm blaring in the background.
4:00am
The price of being a paperboy.
Billy heaved a heavy sigh and sat up groggily. There was no way he had a dream that he kissed Griffin Stagg. Nope.
Sure, he was really really eye-catching, and he was so secretive that Billy craved to know more about him, but that didn’t mean anything. Those were objective statements.
Billy wasn’t a fag.
…probably.
Regardless, he couldn't afford to spend anymore time contemplating his dream or his sexuality or the potential not feelings he has for a certain boy named Griffin Stagg, he needed to get dressed and leave as quickly as possible.
Billy needed to pick up the new shipment of newspapers for the day, then fold them, put them in his bike basket, and then begin to deliver them around 5:00am.
He reluctantly left the warmth of his bed and made his way to the bathroom, taking a piss then routinely brushing his teeth for exactly 2 minutes before he made his way back to his room.
There, he scoured his wardrobe and floor for any clean clothes- his parents were on their wedding anniversary trip and he had the blessing of being an only child- though he failed at doing the laundry for himself previously, so he had little to no clean clothes.
Wonderful.
His go-to red leatherman jacket was out of the question since his dog (a purebred labrador his parents somehow found in a shelter), Luna, decided it would be a great place to pee on, and it was still drying from being hand washed.
Billy groaned and maneuvered himself to his parents bedroom, where he raided his fathers closet- acquiring a, rather nice, sweater and accompanying dress pants that he knew were too small to fit his father so they were more likely to fit him.
On his way out, he grabbed the first belt he could find and made his way back to his room. Billy felt much too posh as he put on his father’s clothing, especially for going to deliver newspapers and going to school, but he really had no other choice, unless he wanted to smell horrendous.
Which he did not.
The clothes fit well enough, being only a little too big, but not big enough to look awkward, luckily. He would die if he had to leave the house looking even worse than he already did. Afterall, he had a reputation to maintain.
In the last fleeting effort he had to look presentable, he grabbed his comb and began to comb through the slightly tangled short mop on his head before it looked like it usually did. How it should look always in his opinion.
Grabbing an apple on his way out, he made his way to get the newspapers. It was torture to have to go get the newspapers every day instead of having the delivery be once per week.
He knew that the future couldn't be predicted, it just would have been… so much easier.
And Billy wouldn't have had to wake up so early each day. Once he had them, he returned as fast as he could to count and fold all of them.
He really wasn’t paid enough.
It took way too much time to be legal to do all of that– which wasn’t actually too long, it just felt that way due to how tired he was– but soon enough he reached the last newspaper.
Once he finished, he had Luna put them all in his bike basket (with the help of a handful of treats), which was heavily frowned upon by his mother (having the bike in the house that is), grabbed an apple since he didn’t have time for breakfast (yet again), and scrambled out of the house so he could be delivering his first newspapers around 5.
This was a routine.
The routine.
His routine.
Basically every morning since he was 13.
What he didn’t expect, however, was the boy from his dreams– quite literally–to be standing in front of his door.
Griffin Stagg.
The boy he had kissed in his dreams for the first time the night before (which he refused, or tried not to, think about all morning).
And he certainly didn’t expect his first ever formal interaction with him was to be sending Griffin crashing to the ground with Billy landing on top of him, newspapers all around them with the bike on the ground, and Luna running off through the open gate chasing a squirrel.
It wasn’t even 5:00am yet.