#but Neil wakes up and just. shimmies and pops right out

[emry-stars-art]

I’d just like to say, I love that you make jelly Neil have it/its pronouns, even if it’s just because it doesn’t really know what gender is. I myself would love to use it/its as an agender person. but people around me definitely wouldn't understand or just wouldn’t because it’s dehumanizing in their eyes, so having a character I love use those pronouns and people respecting it is really nice for me to see. Thank you so much for doing that, you make me happy every time I see a jelly Neil drawing from you!

🥹 this makes me v happy to hear ahh I get a surge of love for anyone that's replied to it/its→it/he jellyNeil with anything along these lines. Excited to post more mers very soon hehe

[little-werewolf-oven]

The Parent Escape: Ch. 14

Read it on AO3

CHAPTER 14: Truth Serum

Billy’s shocked he still has a bed that night.  That Judy didn’t kick him out the second he’d told her he’d kissed Steve.  He wouldn’t have blamed her, really.  Not only was he a <i>fag</i>, but he was a fag who’d made her son’s life <i>infinitely</i> more complicated.  Breaking up with his girlfriend, nearly screwing his best friend… how do you come back from that? 

But Judy sits with him, lets him get it all out, even keeps a hand on his arm for the most of it, a solid weight anchoring him to the moment.  Judy <i>knows,</i> and she’s not screaming at him, or running from him, or disgusted by him.  No, he knows disgust on a person’s face, seen it enough to be able to pick it out from a line-up of emotions.  Judy’s face is concerned, maybe even a bit overwhelmed, but not disgusted.  

“So, is Steve…?”  Billy shrugs.

“I don’t know.  Pretty sure he likes both?”

“But you don’t.”  Not a question.  Billy shakes his head, covering his face with his hands, wishing, and not for the first time, that he could hide away from the rest of the world.  Just sink into nothingness.  He feels fingers wrap around his right wrist, gently pulling his hand down. 

“Billy, <i>nothing</i> is wrong with you.”  He blinks at her, free hand wiping at the tears still clinging to his lashes.  “Life is… things are <i>complicated</i>, but we’ll get through it.” She pauses, still holding onto his wrist.  “And it might not be my place to say, but I think you should tell Steve.”

“That I’m gay?”

“That you’re <i>Billy</i>.”  Billy stops moving entirely.  Stops breathing.  The idea of confessing, telling Steve it wasn’t his best friend he’d been playing kissy-face with, but some <i>stranger</i>, a stranger who’s been <i>lying</i> to him… no.  He can’t.  He can’t have the last look Steve gives him be one of contempt.  

Right now Steve looks at him like he cares, like <i>likes</i> him. He can’t lose that.  

“No.  No I- I can’t.” He pulls his arm out of her grip, “Jason can get it all sorted out.  I know he can.  And I’ll just- I’ll go to California and handle Neil.  Fair trade.”  Judy looks for all the world like she wants to argue, but her mouth remains firmly shut.  

God he’s going to miss her. 

Billy takes himself upstairs after that, drained of absolutely all energy. Between Kim, Steve, and Judy, he’s spent. 

Even so, as he lays his head on the pillow, he’s still thinking about Steve.  There’s a part of him, a very small part, that sees Judy’s point.  Him being the one to tell Steve would allow him to control the narrative, explain things in such a way that maybe Steve wouldn’t hate him after learning the truth.  But what <i>could</i> he say?  <i>”Sorry, the guy you thought you were kissing is in California meeting his abusive dad for the first.  I’m the twin brother keeping his life here warm.  Want to make out again?”</i>   He flips around and shoves his face into the pillow, screaming into the fibers. Doesn’t care if Judy can hear him, if he wakes Lyle up. Just screams. 

And then he passes out. 

++++++

He wakes to an extremely dry mouth and a headache, doesn’t know if it’s from the beer or the emotional overload. All he knows is that he’s not looking forward to today.  His stomach tightens as he recounts everything he’d told Judy, everything she likely told Lyle.  The fact that no one stormed in and threw him out is at least a good sign.  He relaxes into the mattress for another minute before hoisting himself out of bed.  

There’s a note sitting on the counter again, and Billy’s mind immediately goes into overdrive guessing what it says.  Maybe it’s another grocery/chore list.  Maybe it’s a retraction of Judy’s kind words last night.  Maybe it’s Lyle telling him to get out. Find his own way back to California. 

His fingers tremble as he reaches for it, pencil lines so light on the yellow legal pad he needs to raise it up closer to his face to read it. 

<i>Billy,

Wanted to make sure you felt like your own self.  Feel free to get some new clothes. No limit but try not to go <u>too</u> crazy.

-Uncle Lyle</i>

His hands are still lightly shaking as he looks down, expecting to find a few bills left behind for him, but his eyes catch instead on a small plastic card with two circles on it, <i>Lyle Scott</i> embossed on the bottom. 

Holy shit, he’d left him his credit card. 

How fucking trusting <i>are</i> these people?

His mind races with the possibilities, thinks on the fantasies he would entertain back home about what he would do if he suddenly had access to money.  Gas up the Camaro, load up on his favorite foods, buy a new jacket and some boots, an earring, maybe a few tapes, drive as fast as he could out of Emeryville.  But, as he looks at the card still sitting on the counter, he realizes... he has all of that here.  And he’s <i>choosing</i> to go back to live with Neil, finish his senior year, and leave on his own terms. 

But, there’s no reason he can’t do it in some new clothes.  

Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, Hawkins has a severe lack of style.  Billy drives around for an hour trying to find someplace that’s not a department store which might sell something other than Lacoste polos.  It’s like some cruel joke of the universe, the irony that he gets his hands on a credit card and there’s <i>nothing</i> worth buying. 

Well, maybe not <i>nothing</i>, he’s got a couple pairs of jeans hanging over his arm, a button up shirt he thinks he could make work with some adjustments, and a pack of socks.  He’s poking through some T-shirts when he hears a familiar voice behind him, and nearly dives into the center of the rack to avoid detection.

“Hey! Jason!”  Too late. 

“Hey,” Billy fixes on a fake smile and turns to greet Steve and… a child?  The smile immediately drops into a frown as he tries to remember <i>anything</i> Jason might have mentioned about Steve having a younger brother.  Not that the kid looks a thing like him, but why else would he be hanging around some middle schooler? Shit, is he supposed to know who this is?  Is he <i>seriously</i> going to get outed on his <i>last day</i> because of this weird half-human?  

“See I <i>told you</i> he wouldn’t remember me!” The kid lisps out, and Billy has to fight the instinct to take a step back.  What’s wrong with this kid’s <i>teeth?</i> 

“It’s just cause you grew up so much at camp,” Steve palms the kid’s ballcap, giving him some friendlier version of a noogie and pushing the bill over his eyes while glaring at Billy and mouthing what was probably the kid’s name but looked like fuck-all to Billy, who shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head in response, making Steve throw his head back and roll his eyes.  Drama queen. 

“<I>Dustin</i>,” oh <i>now</i> Billy understands the exaggerated mouth motions, “wanted some advice on clothes for the new school year.” Billy pops up an eyebrow, gives Steve a slow once-over: short sleeved striped polo tucked into stone-washed pegged jeans and high top Nikes.

“And he went to <i>you</i>?” 

“Uh, <i>yeah</i>,” Steve props his hands on his hips, “last I checked only <i>one</i> of us in here was voted Hawkins High Best Dressed Guy 1984.”  And Billy tries, okay?  He tries not to laugh, but the snort is coming and there’s no stopping it.  He turns his head at least, laughing more into his shoulder than right at Steve’s face, but the damage is done. 

Steve narrows his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Oh yeah, yeah?  Well, what have you got there, then?” He motions with his elbow, indicating the small pile of clothes Billy has slung over his arm.

“Clothes, Harrington.  You that far out of style?”  And god, Billy is going to miss this, needling this boy until he makes the cutest, poutiest faces.  Steve’s lips are pursed, eyes bright, brows drawn.

“Gonna show us, then?” Billy grins, breath huffing out of his nose as he tilts his head down toward the floor, then back up, eyelids heavy as he looks at Steve. 

“What you want a little fashion show?”  Steve raises his eyebrows and clucks his tongue as he pops up his left shoulder, a poor imitation of nonchalance that Billy is eating up.  He’ll put on a fuckin’ show, alright-

“What the hell is going on?” And shit, Billy totally forgot there was anyone else here. He shoots a look at the kid; baggy shorts and vest over a dingy orange t-shirt, hair a mess under a ballcap.  How in the hell did Harrington get saddled with someone like this? 

“Watch and learn, short stack,” Billy says, making his way back to the changing rooms.  He hears light arguing behind him, doesn’t turn to check and see if they’re following. Doesn’t really care either way, but still grins when he turns to go into the tiny walled off space and sees Steve in his peripheral, taking a seat in the makeshift waiting area.  

Once the door is latched he shimmies out of Jason’s pants, half-tempted to fling them over the partition, before grabbing the new pair.  They’re a size smaller than Jason wears, cut to fit more comfortably over the boots that are waiting for him back in California.  He has to hop a little to get them on, tight as they are, but grins when he turns and sees himself in the mirror.  Now <i>that’s</i> an ass.  Gives it a little wiggle and a slap before shucking off his t-shirt and slipping the button-up over his shoulders.  He fastens only the bottom two, leaving a long V leading to his navel, rolls the sleeves and tucks the tails into his jeans before zipping up.  Takes a long moment to appreciate himself in the mirror, breathing in, and exhaling slowly.  <i>This</i> is Billy Hargrove.  He runs a hand through his hair, disrupting the pomade he’d used to smooth it down this morning, letting the curls that have been growing back in run free.  God<i>damn</i> but he looks good.  

“Hey!”  He hears Steve’s shout, “you gonna stay in there all day?  We still got things to do!”  Billy grins, biting his lip, loving that Steve is still out there, knows he’d probably wait around at least another five minutes if Billy decided to primp some more.  He throws his shoulders back, making them look even broader, gets a practiced, lazy grin on his face, and strides out the door. 

“Geezus Harrington, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he drawls, making his way to where Steve and the hobbit are waiting.  He flexes a little, brings his hand back up through his hair, purposely avoids looking at Steve’s face until he’s right in front of him, and when he finally looks down it does <i>not</i> disappoint.  Steve’s eyes are wide, lips pink and shiny, just barely parted as he stares up at Billy, who smirks and cocks an eyebrow. 

“Whaddya think?”

“Are pants <i>supposed</i> to be that tight?”  The kid lisps out, and before Billy can snark back at him Steve is shoving some money into his little gremlin hands.

“Hey, I gotta- I’ll meet you at the arcade in a while, kay?”

“But you promised we’d go clothes shopping!”

“And we will!  Just, I forgot I was supposed to do something with Jason first.”  Hearing that name is like a stab to the chest.  For the first time in nearly two weeks Billy’s really been able to feel like himself, <i>look</i> like himself, and Steve <i>still</i> only sees Jason.  The rational part of Billy’s brain knows that it’s not Steve’s fault, per se, but still, it <i>stings</i>. Makes him want to lash out or run away.  And with a deep breath, he chooses the latter. 

“Nah, man, you promised the kid, go with the kid.”  He turns to go back into the changing room, but is stopped as Steve jumps up and grabs his elbow.  

“Hey, uh,” he drops his voice low, ���if you need help taking those off, they’re like, <i>really</i> tight-” Billy shakes off his grip.

“Get back to babysitting,” he tosses out, but at the crestfallen look on Steve’s face, adds, “maybe I’ll need help later.”  God, this guy is like a drug Billy can’t quit.  Seconds ago he was ready to turn tail and never see him again, now he’s practically given him a hand-written invitation into his pants.  Steve smiles, gives him a dorky salute and walks backward for a few steps, unabashedly checking out Billy’s ass before turning back toward the kid.   

But it’s not like Billy can complain, it <i>is</i> a great ass.

READ THE REST AT AO3~