#i also hc that they met as kids where billy accidentally saves stu

[greenteabelle]

hc that billy is a weird fucking dude ( affectionate ) that's like super possessive , especially over stu . i also hc that stu bruises easily , so billy views that as a way to sorta mark his ownership over stu but like , discreetly . and stu just goes with it because he's like , it's billy . he knows he's weird .

“Holy fuck, Macher. what's that on your hips?”

“Huh?” Stu asks distractedly, following his gaze to where randy is pointing with a horrified expression. belatedly, he realises that his shirt was, in fact, too small and had ridden up to reveal a smattering of purple and yellow bruises all over his hips. “Oh.”

Before Stu can tug his shirt back down, Randy already has his hand on the hem, pulling it further up. It reveals more discoloured spots around his waist. Randy doesn't notice how the marks can line up to form handprints. “Dude, what the fuck? Did you get beat up or something?”

Stu laughs and swats Randy's hand away, tucking his shirt in properly. “Of course not, dipshit. Who the fuck aims for the waist?”

“I don't know! How else could you explain these?”

In any other case, Stu would tease Randy relentlessly, but seeing the genuine concern in his eyes makes him reconsider. Randy looks like he doesn't know where to put his hands, yet he hovers closely, fretting over him like a mom. Instead, Stu just messes up his hair, cackling at the indignant squawks that follow.

“Look, man. Don't ask questions you don't want answers to, if you know what I'm saying.” Stu says, waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly to further cement the implications. “But if you really want to know…”

As expected, Randy gags and shoves him away, though his touch still remains careful. “Ew, gross dude! I don't wanna hear about your weird sex life, but man. You're into this shit?”

It takes a few moments to consider the alternatives, whether it's worth going along with it, but Stu shrugs with an easy smile. “There's nothing more sexy than a possessive woman, let me tell you that, Meeks. When you finally stop being a loser and get a girl, you'll understand.”

“I-I do get girls, I just,” Randy splutters, his cheeks reddening, “I haven't found the right one yet…”

“Uh huh, good luck with that buddy.” Stu grins wolfishly, pinching the boy's cheek for extra measure. Randy scowls, slapping his hand away. “Maybe if you actually got some practice you'd find your true love by now.”

“Oh yeah?” Randy scoffs, rubbing at his cheek. “And who am I supposed to practise with? You?”

Again, Stu shrugs. He leans in conspiratorially, lowering his voice into a whisper.

“For a good price, I'd do- Jesus fucking Christ, Billy!” Stu jumps at the sensation of a hand snaking around his waist to grip his hip, his back suddenly pressed against another very warm, very familiar body. He instinctively tries to move, only to be pressed firmly in place by the punishing hold at the crook of his waist. “When the fuck did you get here?”

“Just now.” Billy smirks. “Hey, Randy. What were you two talking about?”

That seems to reignite the life in Randy, who looked moments from passing out thanks to the scare. He snaps out of it and points at Stu's waist or, rather, Billy's hand. “Have you seen Stu's bruises? They look crazy, man.”

“What bruises?”

“These ones.” Stu says, immediately tugging his shirt up and angling his body so Billy can have a better view. It's a bit of a bad idea, because Billy doesn't have time to react. So instead of letting go, his fingers end up caressing Stu's skin, the contact both unfamiliar yet electrifying. He barely suppresses a shiver from it, though it probably doesn't escape Billy's notice even as he lets go. “Randy caught a peek because my shirt fucking shrunk, no thanks to my sister.”

Something akin to satisfaction flashes in Billy's eyes, but that could also be Stu hallucinating. “Oh, those bruises?”

“You've known about the sex bruises?”

Billy laughs, his thumb circling the sharp angle of the hip bone discreetly. Stu is honestly surprised that Randy doesn't see it. “Of course I've seen them. We literally change in front of each other.” Billy carefully pulls Stu's shirt down, not before leaving another longing caress to those marks before adjusting the sling of his bag. “Anyway, school's fucking over. If y'all wanna stay here, be my guest.”

Randy whips up his wrist to check the time and curses, quickly shrugging on his backpack. “Shit, my mom's gonna kill me! See you tomorrow!”

As soon as Randy disappears out the door, Billy casually steps in front of Stu. Placing both hands on the desk he’s sitting on, Stu is caged in. “So.”

Stu tilts his head, slightly confused. “So?”

“Sex bruises, huh?”

“What else was I gonna say?” Stu laughs, swatting at Billy's wandering hands. “That you're so fucking strong that you leave bruises on me? That's gonna sound even weirder man.”

Randy already thinks that Billy is creepy. If he hears that he also likes leaving bruises and on Stu out of all people? They'll be lucky if he doesn't just bolt to the police for that.

Stu slings on his bag and moves to leave, raising an eyebrow when Billy doesn't budge. “Anyway. We still watching Nightmare on Elm Street or no?”

Billy stares into his eyes for a few more lingering moments, before he huffs a laugh and steps back.

“Of course we are.”