Your Hand In Mine, I Will Be Brave. - Dollsguts (2023)

Chapter Text

It's been 2 months since everything happened. Wounds have closed, questions are slowly being asked. Whispers and questions. Home life has changed. His mother and father changed arrangements, letting him house hop. It's nice, a compromise he guesses. Nothing could ever be the same, but that's okay.

School has been a lot, returning after over a month of recovery, having done school work at home before returning into the deep end, the pity, the interviews. It was all on the news. The lists of casualties, the news clippings that he keeps to recount them all.

"The Father Death Murders have finally come to an end. Neil Prescott, husband to Maureen Prescott, who was murdered last year, taking his own life after enacting a string of violent murders. Many families are still mourning the losses. The victims include Neil's own daughter, 17 year old Sidney Prescott, as well as her friends, 25 year old Deputy Dwight Riley, 17 year old Tatum Riley and 17 year old Randy Meeks. Another casualty is Top Story Reporter, 25 year old Gale Weathers and her camera man, 34 year old Kenneth Jones. Two young men did survive this brutal massacre, the 18 year old boyfriend to Sidney Prescott named Billy Loomis and his friend, 18 year old Stuart Macher. Other murders thought to be associated are now being investigated, along with the Maureen Prescott case being reopened."

He reads it over, scoffing at it all. Ugh, did they have to print out that he was Sidney's boyfriend? At least it gave him a good sob story. He could use the pity after leading them around, Neil taking that bullet. A true red herring. It was good to be free from it all, to have this life.

He sits up when he hears a rustling, looking up from his desk. His room is dimly lit, black lights on, his posters glowing under it, his desk light being his only true light as he read over things, half focused on homework.

He hears a tapping on his window, shifting his roller chair and leaning to look. In the dim lighting he can see the outline of a familiar grin, ruffled hair pressed to the glass. "Ugh, Stu." He breathes, a small smile on his own face. He stands up, walking over to undo the latch and open the window, the gangly blond slithering in, a bit more clumsy than Billy manages.

"Heya there, pretty boy. Whatcha up to this fine evening?" Stu drawls, standing up to his full height, brushing off his clothes. "Homework. Which you should also be doing." Billy retorts, poking him in the chest as he looks up at him. There's only a 4 inch difference between the two, but it's not helped by the slouch the brunet's been forming.

"Ugh, don't be such a bore. Wanna go on a drive with me?" He asks, slinging an arm around Billy's shoulders, careful of his still tender wound. "Ya know ya wanna~" He coos, swaying with the brunet, who groans. "You're not gonna lemme say no. So I guess." He says with a sigh, though he is a bit sick of all the english and math. "Let me just get my shoes on."

They sneak out the window, an easy feat. Billy's family was never as well off as the Machers or the Prescotts, living in an unremarkable house, smaller and cozier but still home. It still was a two story, hidden in the trees, one of them close enough to make it easy to get in and out of his bedroom. It was harder now, his arm still stiff and aching if he moved it wrong. He slips a bit on the way down, though strong arms are there to catch him.

"Falling for me? Damn, Billy, our girls just died and you're already making a move?" Stu cheekily quips, making him flush. "Shut up. You're the reason I got shot, goofy ass." He grumbles, shoving the chuckling blond off to walk over to the truck. He gives a sparing glance to his father's car, looking over his home as they load into the truck. His father still keeps his space, even after everything, so sneaking away still isn't a hassle.

It's a nice and fun drive out, listening to Type O Negative and Stu's humming, the windows open as the wind whips around them. The stars and moon glisten overhead, peering through trees at them, lighting them in pallor tones as they drive to the lake.

The lake was always a fun little area, somewhere Billy had once gone whenever things became too stressful, somewhere his parents once took him before they split. It was on one particular stressful day that Stu joined him, watching him break down. The day Roman came to him, the day everything started falling apart. They sat on the pier once his anger ceased, once the screaming and punching of trees ceased. Stu cleaned his bloody hands and held him as he sobbed, promising that they'd fix it. And they did.

He sighs as he slams the passenger door shut on the truck, stepping out onto the gravel parking lot near the lake. There's a few campgrounds and a cabin or two, but it's abandoned for now, no one else seemingly there. Stu joins at his side, playfully shoving at him before snickering as he makes his way to the water, Billy following after.

They clamber onto the pier, settling near the edge, sat side by side. Billy hates the cheesy shit, the romance novels that always have everything so sugary sweet. But there's no other words to describe how Stu looks in the moonlight other than beautiful.

He steals a few glances, but tries to stay looking at the scenery, his thoughts wandering to their past. They've fooled around, hell, they've slept together. But it was an off limits thing to really talk about. It happened but it wasn't a thing to discuss. Their mutual infidelity to their girlfriends wasn't really something they wanted to chatter too much about, Billy especially. But since the massacre, they really hadn't breached this unspoken subject. And damn, does Billy want to.

"Why'd ya wanna come out here? Usually the lake is my idea." He says, finally breaking the silence. It earns a soft hum, the brunet looking at Stu and seeing him smile before meeting his eyes. "Well, to be honest. I kinda just wanted to kiss you. Take you somewhere nice too. Is that bad?" He asks, Billy immediately flushing a little.

"That's a bit fruity. Ya sure?" He replies, a bit embarrassed at such a sentiment. Stu moves closer, crowding Billy a bit. "Yeah, I'm sure. Dude, I get it. I get why we didn't really say much about the whole sex and fooling around behind Tate and Sid's back stuff but.. They're gone now. Can we just.. Can we talk about it?" He asks, his brows furrowed and an almost upset look on his face. Billy feels a little twinge of guilt at such an expression.

"Yeah. We can." He finally breathes, finally opening up to such a discussion, eager for it if anything. "I know we can't be public. I understand that. I don't want us to get all fucked up and have to deal with all the bullshit. But like. I wanna kiss you more, like a lot more." Stu rambles, his own cheeks flushing, a thoughtful and embarrassed expression on his face. Billy chuckles a little, nodding. "Yeah?" He inquires, Stu immediately nodding, quick and exaggerated. "Hell yeah. Like a lot more. And like. Fuck, I wanna leave hickeys on you and shit, and to fuck around more. Dude, do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you told your nurse that you're an ass man? Apparently my pain meds made me even dumber." Stu jokes, Billy laughing at his tangents. "Yeah? Hopefully you didn't specify who's ass." Billy replies, Stu groaning. "I didn't. But just, fuck. I wanna be around you more. Like more than ever. I feel like I've been through withdrawals being away from you. I thought I'd miss weed more than I missed anything yet you've been inside my head like fucking crazy." He breathes, Billy just listening intently, dark eyes trying to just capture every bit of Stu to his memory in this moment.

The blond is about to ramble more when he leans over, catching his lips with his own. His hands reach up to tangle in blond hair, Stu flailing a little before his own hands find the blond's waist. He grips onto him, Billy melting as they lose themselves in each other. Stu tastes like spearmint gum and perfection, like what home should feel like. Stu always tastes good, sometimes different. Sometimes like blood or beer, or sometimes even sweets. But it's always home.


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