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───⊱1⊰───
“So I got fired again,” Randy announced, plopping himself on the edge of the fountain with a huff. He nearly fell in (and it wouldn’t be the first time) but he managed to steady himself, pinwheeling his arms to do so.
Tatum and Stu both laughed at him.
“What did you do to get fired this time?” Tatum asked, opening up her lunch box. The first time he was fired for showing up late one too many times, but the manager at the video store rehired him after a week because he was– aside from his occasional tardiness– their best employee.
“Apparently I had,” Randy rolled his eyes, “‘attitude’ with a customer.”
“I can believe that,” Stu said. “Last time I went in, you called me a dick.”
“You are a dick.” Randy dumped the contents of his paper lunch bag on his lap. His apple fell in the fountain. “Shit.” He fished around in the water for it and wiped it dry on his shirt. “They’ll rehire me. You’ll see.”
Tatum muttered something about Randy being “practically unhireable” as they watched with mild disgust when Randy took a bite out of the apple, apparently not caring at all that it had just been in the fountain.
“Gross,” Billy said.
“What?” Randy spoke with his mouth full. “It fell in water . And it’s not like it’s dirty water or anything!”
“Debateable.”
This only sent Randy off on a rant about water and germs and the “power of the immune system”, but Billy wasn’t really listening. Sidney had started to shift beside him, her arms coming around her stomach, her face pale. All day she’d been looking a little shaky.
“Hey,” Billy slid closer, putting an arm around her, selling the perfect boyfriend act, “Are you okay?”
The others stopped to look at Sidney, all suddenly realising she looked terrible.
“I think–” She cut herself off with a sharp inhale, “I think I might be sick.”
“Oh Sid,” Tatum leaned across Stu. With one hand, she smoothed back Sidney’s bangs. She laid the other on her forehead, feeling for a fever.
“I might throw up,” Sidney croaked out.
Tatum stood up immediately, “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
She helped Sidney up, supporting her by wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The two of them started walking towards the school’s entrance, and Randy grabbed their lunchboxes, hurrying after them. He never missed an excuse to white-knight for Sidney.
Billy and Stu watched the three of them leave, secretly glad it was finally just the two of them. Stu slid closer to Billy, leaving only a small distance between them. It was closer than most would consider just friendly, but if anyone looked, they wouldn’t make anything of it, because that was just how Stu was. He was clingy to all his friends.
Although he and Billy were a good deal more than friends.
Billy felt a weight lift off him when his girlfriend left. The closer they got to the catalyst of his plan, the less he found he could tolerate Sidney. It didn’t help that she was becoming more mopey about her mom as they approached the anniversary. He couldn’t wait until they were all dead and he could exist alone with Stu. No more lying, no more faking affection, no more masking his true self.
He let himself lean a little into Stu’s space. He wished he could move closer, wished Stu could wrap his arm around him like he did with his girlfriends. Every time he saw Stu sitting there with Tatum practically in his lap, he felt jealousy surge up in him like a rogue wave.
If there weren’t so many eyes around them, Billy would rest against him the way he did in private. At least he had that. When they were alone in Stu’s room, he could relax.
Just not here.
Affectionate gestures came so easy with Sidney. It was all part of an act, a game that she didn’t know he was playing. He could sling an arm around her, or press a kiss to her cheek, things he could never publicly do with Stu. He wished he could. With Stu, everything felt more real. The act was gone, the mask was off, and it scared him a little.
He’d said a hundred I love you’s to Sidney, never meaning any of it. He’d never once said it to Stu. Every time he tried, his voice got caught in his throat. Stu had whispered those three words to him countless times: in his ear as they drifted to sleep, against his throat between kisses, into his chest when they cuddled. And Billy hadn’t said it back. Not once. Because if he did, it would make it too real.
Billy knew he was in love with Stu, but how could he say it? It wasn’t just the fear of being caught that held him back, it was the fear that he’d mess it up somehow. That he’d ruin this thing they had. That he’d say it and somehow make it wrong.
He loved Stu so so much. And if he couldn’t say it, he would just have to show it.
He reached into his lunch bag, finding an orange inside. It was Stu’s favourite fruit. He remembered the soft Summer days of his childhood, when he and Stu would walk to the park together. Back then, one of his neighbours had an orange tree in her yard. Stu would climb up the branches, pluck an orange hanging amidst the leaves. They’d share it as they walked, hands sticky with the juice and mouths watering with the sweetness.
He peeled the orange slowly, trying not to make a mess of it. When he was a child, he didn’t mind the stickiness of orange juice on his hands, but he preferred his hands clean nowadays. When he took the peel off fully, he pushed his thumbs into the space where all the wedges met. Gently– so he wouldn’t rip any of the wedges– he pulled the orange apart, separating it into two halves.
“Here,” he held out one half to Stu.
Stu looked up, beaming as he took the orange. “Thanks!” Quieter– so quiet only Billy could hear him– he whispered, “Love ya.”
Billy’s heart did a little flip as he handed it over, hoping that Stu knew what the gesture meant. Stu popped a slice in his mouth, then looked up at him. His eyes sparkled with love and affection. Billy had nothing to worry about. Stu knew what this meant.
They ate the orange, sharing it like a secret.
───⊱2⊰───
“I can’t come over today,” Stu’s voice came through the phone speaker, weak and stuffy.
“What? Why?” Billy asked, flopping down onto his bed. Stu was supposed to come over today so they could watch the movie Billy rented. Usually, they watched movies at Stu’s house, but Billy had the place to himself for the weekend and he wanted Stu to come over here for once.
“I think Sid gave whatever she was sick with to Tatum and Tatum gave it to me. I threw up last night, man.”
Shit. That ruined all his plans for the day.
He wanted to see Stu. Going a day without seeing him hurt.
“We’re still watching the movie,” Billy said. He slid out of his bed to pick up the tape.
“I can’t drive over there, Bills. I’m dizzy and shit.”
“Bye.”
“Hey, wai–”
Billy hung up the phone. He couldn’t have Stu being sick, especially not so close to the start of their plan. He grabbed his backpack and dumped all his schoolwork out onto his bed. He placed the VHS tape and his wallet inside.
He stepped out into the backyard, grabbing his bike. He hadn’t needed to use it for a while since Stu got his driver’s license, but it still worked fine. It squeaked a little as he rode it to the store. As he biked, he tried to remember the things his mom did for him when he used to get sick. She always put Vaporub on his chest, got him ginger ale to drink, and made chicken noodle soup. He didn’t know how to make her soup.
He entered the grocery store, heading for the drink aisle first. He got the 2-litre bottle. Then he wandered into the soup aisle. Multiple companies sold chicken noodle soup. None of them would ever be as good as the one his mom made, and he didn’t know which one was the best.
One of the store’s employees walked by the aisle, pushing a cart full of food to restock the shelves.
“Hey,” Billy got his attention. “What kind of chicken noodle soup is best?”
“Umm…” the guy looked over the options. “I guess I always get Campbell’s.”
Billy picked up the can of Campbell’s, thanking the employee as he walked down the other aisles, picking up tissues, crackers, and Vaporub. After he checked out, he stuffed everything in his backpack and biked to Stu’s house.
He leaned his bike against the fence and went up to the front door. It was locked when he checked it, and when he rang the bell, Stu didn’t answer. He was probably asleep.
Billy checked the windows beside the door. One was unlocked. He slid it open and climbed through, getting tangled in the sheer curtains and knocking over an antique chair as he went through. When he was inside, he closed the window up behind him, locking it, and put the chair back in its place.
When he was sure he had fixed everything, he walked through the foyer and into the kitchen, setting his bag on the kitchen island. He opened it up and took everything out, grabbing the soup. He opened a few of the drawers, rummaging around for a can opener. In his search, he found a pot big enough to cook the soup in, which he set on the stove. He also found a soup ladle.
After he finally got the can opened, he poured it into the pot, turning on the stove. When he moved to put the ginger ale in the fridge, he caught sight of someone in the living room pointing a knife in his direction.
“Get out!” Stu shouted at him, waving the knife.
“Stop! It’s me, dipshit!”
“What the fuck?” Stu lowered the knife. It was the one he’d used when they killed Maureen. “Dude, I thought someone broke in!”
“I did break in. You should lock your windows. What if there was a killer on the loose?”
Stu laughed, but it was raspy from coughing.
“Sit down,” Billy ordered, pointing at the couches in the living room.
Stu did. “What are you doing here?” He shouted from the other room. “I thought you were mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You hung up on me.”
“I had to get to the store,” Billy explained. “I’m making you soup.”
“Aw, baby, that’s so sweet!”
“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s from a can.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Stu said. “If you make it, it’ll be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Billy felt his cheeks get hot. He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he focused on the soup. When it started to bubble, he turned it off and grabbed a bowl, filling it up. He set the bowl on a plate with some crackers and poured a glass of ginger ale. He even found a Krazy Straw in the silverware drawer and stuck it in the glass, knowing Stu would get a kick out of it.
He brought the food and drink to the living room and took a second trip to bring the tissues, VHS tape, and Vaporub. He ran upstairs to grab a blanket from Stu’s room. It was still warm. When Stu was comfortably wrapped in his blanket and eating his soup, Billy turned on the movie.
He didn’t sit as close to Stu as he usually liked to, considering he didn’t want to get sick too. He half-watched the movie and half-watched Stu. Stu’s face was flushed and his hair was sweaty. He looked pretty sick, but he didn’t shiver as much now that he was bundled in the blanket and eating warm soup.
Stu glanced from the screen to him. He smiled, “I love you so much. You didn’t have to come over here, but you did and now you might be sick, but you still– Just, I– Thanks for taking care of me.”
“Anytime,” Billy responded. And he meant it.
───⊱3⊰───
Billy wasn’t big on giving gifts. He didn’t like the idea of surprising someone with something they might not even like. If they wanted something from him, they should be specific and just ask. That was how he normally felt, anyway. Things were different with Stu.
With Stu, he felt nervous. He always had. There was this fear that lingered inside him no matter how much he tried to banish it that Stu would hate the gift Billy gave him, and in turn, hate Billy, and he couldn’t stand the thought of that. Every gift he’d ever given Stu had weeks to months of planning and overthinking behind it. He didn’t do spontaneous gifts when it came to Stu.
So he hadn’t actively gone out looking for a skateboard for Stu, but he walked past the store Stu bought his boards from, and suddenly a need to get him something possessed him. Stu broke his skateboard a few days ago, and Billy knew he’d be wanting a new one soon. It was the perfect thing to gift him.
He felt a little out of his element when he stepped inside the shop. He’d been in here a few times, but it was always with Stu. He’d never come alone. He was immediately hit with a cacophony of sensory input. It smelled like wood and polyurethane. Someone was putting grip tape on their board, the loud sound of metal on sandpaper blending with the music blaring from the speakers and the chatter of customers.
A couple of guys from his school were there, and he greeted them back when they called out to him. He sort of knew them, since they skated with Stu, but Billy preferred to hang back and film– a very important job when it came to skaters. He didn’t feel like talking though, so he pretended to be incredibly engrossed in the skateboards. They lined the walls in explosions of colour and design, turning blurry as his eyes struggled to focus on just one. He briefly wondered if it was a mistake to come here.
He tried to remember what brands Stu said he liked, and which size he rode. He gravitated to the corner where Stu usually bought boards from. He saw a few designs he recognised Stu had bought before, but he wanted to get him something new. He was pretty sure Stu said he rode an 8.5, so he found the row of boards in that size.
As he scanned the boards, one caught his eye. It was dark grey with a design of Jason Vorhees in white. He reached up and took it off the rungs, turning it in his hands. It was perfect.
He left the store with the skateboard and grip tape. He was so excited he felt like running all the way to Stu’s house with it, but he waited until later that night when Stu came to pick him up.
Stu’s eyes widened when he pulled up in Billy’s driveway and saw the skateboard in his hands. “Dude, is that Jason?”
“Yep,” Billy climbed into the car, setting the skateboard in the back seat. “I know you’ve been wanting a new skateboard, and I figured... I dunno, I just thought maybe I could help you out. And I thought you’d like the design.” Billy tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t hide his hopefulness. Please let Stu like this gift. Please let him realise how often Billy was thinking of him, how he couldn’t pass that shop without Stu coming to mind.
Stu’s cheeks turned pink. “Babe, you’re so cute.” He leaned back to look at the board. “You even got the right size!”
“Yeah,” Billy turned away, his own cheeks heating up. “I listen to you when you talk.”
“I love you,” Stu said. He said it a lot.
“I know,” Billy responded. It was as close as he could get to really saying it.
Stu understood, looking at him with warm eyes and a smile that lit up his face. He didn’t have to worry about the gift. He didn’t ever have to worry about what Stu thought of him. Stu understood, and Billy knew he would let him take as much time as he needed to say those three words.
That night, Billy sat on the couch as Stu put the grip tape on his board, bearing the awful scratching noise so he could be close to Stu.
───⊱4⊰───
Adrenaline coursed through Billy. His head buzzed and his fingers tingled and his heart pounded fast as a rabbit’s. He’d missed this high, this power, this rush. He laughed, not caring how crazy he sounded, laughing in Stu’s bathroom, covered in blood.
Stu laughed too, breathless and high and shaky. He trembled with leftover excitement, gushing about the kill. “The way her parents were right there and didn’t see us! And- and the way her mom screamed when she saw her! I wish I had a photo of her face!”
Billy leaned against the sink, getting blood on the white marble countertop. He loved every part of the kill, but the aftermath was the sweetest. It was the knowledge they’d gotten away, the adrenaline high still rushing, the way he was pulled closer to Stu each time they shared in this.
“And when you sliced Steve open like it was nothing!” Stu continued, “You’re so cool, Billy. So fucking cool.”
“I’d say you were pretty cool tonight too,” Billy breathed out, taking the fabric from Stu’s robe in his hands. “You look hot covered in blood.”
Stu became even more excited if that was possible. Billy didn’t give out compliments often, and Stu was addicted to them. His whole body seemed to vibrate and he grinned wide, eyes sparkling. There was a smear of blood on his cheek. Billy wiped it with his thumb.
“I love you,” Stu groaned, voice strained and shaky.
Billy pulled him closer, chest to chest. He could feel the hammer of Stu’s heart. He kissed him hard, tasting the sweetness of power and passion and blood on his lips. Stu’s hand slid into Billy’s hair, gripping tight. The other curled around the back of Billy’s neck, pulling him closer, sighing into the kiss. They kissed like they’d die without each other, like the world was ending outside the bathroom door, like they were the only people left on Earth.
When they broke away, all Billy could think about was how much he wanted to do it again.
───⊱5⊰───
Billy felt sore from sitting on the concrete bench in the holding cell at the sheriff’s department all night. He’d hardly slept at all. He couldn’t wait to get back home and get some sleep. He hadn’t anticipated being in custody for so long. Looking at phone bills took longer than he expected.
“We called your father, but he isn’t answering,” Sheriff Burke informed him as they sat in his office. His dad left as soon as they were done questioning Billy, and he obviously didn’t care to come back for his son.
“Do I walk home?” Billy asked, making his voice waver like he was scared but trying to hide it. “There’s a killer on the loose and–”
“No, son,” the sheriff stood up. “I’ll drive ya.”
Billy untensed his shoulders, acting relieved. He didn’t actually feel relieved until he was dropped off in front of his house. They’d taken the same car Billy was brought to the station in, but he got to sit in the front this time. Sheriff Burke only drove away when Billy was safely inside.
The lights in the house were off, and Billy didn’t see his dad anywhere. He was probably at the motel in the next town over fucking some prostitute. Disgust filled him, and for the millionth time, he wished he could have fit his father into the plan. But no , he needed him in case there was any legal trouble after this.
He walked through the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water for his parched throat. His bedroom door was located in the hallway beside the kitchen, so he doubled back to find it. He saw that a light was on, shining beneath the door. Fuck. He hoped his dad wasn’t in there waiting to lecture him.
He opened the door cautiously.
It wasn’t his dad in his room. It was just Stu curled up on his bean bag chair, fast asleep. His bedside lamp was turned on. The window was propped open, and chilly air blew into the room. Billy shook his head fondly, closing the door softly behind himself. He set his glass on the nightstand and walked around his bed to close the window.
Billy tiptoed towards Stu. He must have waited all night in Billy’s room for him to come back, eventually becoming too tired and falling asleep. Cute.
Billy crouched down, just looking at his boyfriend. His hair was tousled from sleep and the edge of his mouth kept twitching. He shivered, too, and Billy realised he was curled into a ball not because it was comfortable (he usually preferred to sleep sprawled out like a starfish), but because he was cold.
Billy didn’t want to wake him, but he didn’t want him to be cold or get sick later either. The plan was tonight. They needed to be in their best shape. He rose and migrated to the bed, finding his warmest, softest blanket. He draped it over Stu, tucking it around him. Stu stirred, gripping the blanket.
“Love you, Billy. I missed you,” Stu mumbled, still mostly asleep.
“I missed you too.”
───⊱+1⊰───
Tonight was the night. The usual emotions rushed through Billy, leaving him light-headed: anticipation, excitement, anxiety, apprehension. They buzzed in his system like alcohol. Better than alcohol. They’d gone over the plan again and again. They could probably recite it backwards. They’d been working on it for a year, afterall.
Stu sat on his bed, leg bouncing up and down at inhuman speeds. Billy, meanwhile, paced back and forth across the room, clenching and unclenching his hands in his exhilaration, thinking about the look on Sidney’s face when his mask finally dropped. How terrified she’d be when she saw the real him.
After this, nothing was getting in the way of him and Stu. No Tatum stealing Stu away with date nights, no Sidney calling crying about her mom, no Randy being a nuisance. When they were all gone, Billy could finally be free of the mask he had to wear, the persona he had to don, the nice normal boy he had to pretend to be. It would be just him and Stu against the world.
Stu stood, coming towards Billy. He wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight. Billy got himself worked up when he was excited like this, and sometimes he just needed Stu to squeeze him until all the nerves left his body, melting away at his touch.
“We’re gonna do great, baby,” Stu whispered into his ear.
Billy hoped that was true. He was always nervous before a kill. During and after he felt invincible, like a God. But before, his mind raced with possibilities of what could go wrong.
Billy hugged him back. More nerves hit his system, and this time, it wasn’t completely about tonight. He’d been thinking about something all week, stressing and obsessing over what to do.
They could die tonight.
They could go to jail and never see eachother again.
Billy would hate himself forever if he never got to tell Stu how he felt. Stu knew Billy loved him, but Billy wanted to say it. Just once. Just in case this was his last chance.
“Stu?”
“Yeah?”
“I–” Billy choked on it. Why was it so hard for him to say? Why couldn’t he be like everyone else and let the words flow freely? Why did admitting his love scare him more than anything else?
“Stu, I– I just wanted to tell you that—“
He took a deep breath. He could do this. He'd killed before. This should be comparatively easy.
“I love you.”
The words didn’t come out as boldly as he’d hoped. They were more like a whisper than a declaration, but they were out there now.
Stu’s eyes grew wide with shock, then lit up like it was Christmas morning. “You finally said it!” He hugged Billy tighter, burying his face in his shoulder. “I love you too! So much! More than you could ever know!”
“I love you,” Billy said again, and this time the words felt lighter. He felt like he could say it forever.
The doorbell rang downstairs. The first party guest. It was probably Randy.
Stu pulled away, looking a little disappointed. “Guess I gotta go now.” He made his way to the bedroom door but turned back at the last second to give Billy a grin. “Everybody dies but us, remember?”
“Everybody dies but us.”