Chapter Text
It’s only on nights like this, in the low but warm light of Eddie Munson’s bedroom, that Billy is able to let the mask completely slip away.
He’ll only ever let the walls he’s worked so hard to build come crumbling down for Eddie, in the safety of the night.
He covets these moments, fleeting and short. He treasures them because by the time morning rolls around he’ll re-attach that mask, put those walls back together brick by brick and he’ll be a different person to who is in these private moments - for Eddie’s eyes only, the only person he’ll ever trust like this.
These nights always seem to start the same, Billy will turn up at the trailer, will be let into that safe haven by the only thing in this whole world that's pure and good and right. He used to fight it more, that feeling in his chest that would make itself known whenever he’d think about Munson, whenever he’d catch himself daring to look into those wide brown eyes.
He’d fight it because it spelled trouble, wasn’t what he was supposed to want but he got so tired of pretending to be something he wasn’t, and the night seems to provide a blanket of protection that the harsh light of day does not.
So now he fights it less, he lets Eddie touch him, isn’t skittish anymore when those calloused fingers reach towards his face. No longer feels cold dread settling heavy in his stomach when Eddie backs him up against a wall.
Because that’s the thing about Eddie Munson, he’s so soft, so gentle with Billy. No one is gentle with Billy, all he’s ever known is aggression and violence and the fear response he learned to channel into anger, because anger is easier to deal with than fear. He doesn’t want to be seen as weak, as a coward.
They’re on Munson’s bed, they both lost their shirts a while ago and despite the chill November night, Billy feels feverish.
He lets Eddie kiss him, lets himself enjoy it. The kisses make him feel alive in a way nothing else ever will, it’s always so good to lay on that too small bed, hands held down on the mattress by the boy above him and here’s the thing: Billy is stronger than Eddie, he could easily push him away, he just doesn’t want to.
He wants to be good instead, wants to hand over some of that control he’s always trying to cling on to. Just for Eddie, because he knows it’ll be worth it, it always is.
“Can I touch you?” He hears Munson ask. He’s been desperate for it for a while now, can feel the frustration building because he’s so hard and his jeans are so tight and it’s uncomfortable bordering on painful and so he pushes himself away for just long enough to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. Eddie smiles, feral and tugs at the denim, dragging it down his thighs until they’re off and joining the heap of clothes already in the floor.
“You’re so pretty” Eddie tells him, Billy would never admit it in the day light but he loves hearing the stream of praise that leaves Eddie’s mouth every time they do this. The first time, Billy felt anything but pretty when he saw the horror written all over the other boy’s face.
“Who did this to you?” He’d asked and Billy felt so small and stupid for not thinking because how else was Eddie going to react to seeing the bruises littered across his bare torso? Some a deep, almost black violet: fresh; others a sickly, ashy green: older but they still ache just as much. It’d be clear to anyone who saw them that it’s not just a one time thing, it’s regular, recurring, a steady stream of hurt.
“Don’t wanna talk about that.”
Thankfully, Eddie didn’t push him for more information. He knows now, let Billy talk about the beatings he takes from Neil in his own time, keeps his anger contained but Billy can see it threatening to spill out sometimes. It makes him feel cared for, knowing that someone sees the evidence of Neil’s hatred and is disgusted but not at Billy, never at him.
“Fuck” he can feel his brain turning to static as a hand slips into his underwear, pulling his dick free and pushing any thoughts of Neil so far away it’s like he no longer exists. All that exists is the two of them and that’s all Billy really needs. It’s overwhelming, and a part of him thinks he should hate feeling this desperate for another man’s touch but it’s hard to think about anything at all when a thumb rubs circles against the leaking head and a mouth attaches itself to a sensitive nipple and sucks, kisses its way down his chest, stomach until he can feel warm breath over his cock.
“So fucking pretty, babe. Just for me right? I’m so lucky I get to see you like this.”
Billy wants to tell him to stop talking and put his mouth to better use but he doesn’t need to because as if he can read minds, Eddie’s mouth closes around his cock and Billy allows himself to get lost in the wet heat, pets at Munson’s hair, a silent plea because here, Billy can be gentle too, sometimes.
Those warm brown eyes look up at him and then Eddie’s giving him what he wants, what he needs. He takes him all the way down his throat and it’s so good that Billy can’t contain the pathetic, needy noises that claw their way out of his mouth. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming with a long, gasping moan.
He lets himself bask in the afterglow of his orgasm for a moment before noticing Eddie’s hand working himself over frantically. He’s close, but Billy can feel the frustration emanating from him in waves.
“Turn over, lie on your back. Let me.” Maybe Billy likes reciprocating so much because he actually isn’t a selfish person, or maybe he just likes the feel of Eddie’s cock anyway he can get it.
Maybe it’s both, who knows.
It doesn’t really matter in the end, because he gets a hand around the dick in front of him and is rewarded by a moan and a buck of hips and all that matters now is trying to show Eddie how he feels without having to say it in words. Billy holds him firm in his hand, twists his wrist every time he strokes him. He licks at the head and that’s all it takes for Eddie to come, salty and bitter on his tongue but Billy swallows it down anyway.
“Will you stay tonight, please?” Eddie’s asking after they’ve cleaned up and each smoked a cigarette. Dio playing quietly in the background now.
Sometimes he doesn’t spend the night. When they first started this, he never stayed long after they’d both come. He’d manage just long enough to enjoy a cigarette or two with Munson before the shame would start making his skin itch and he needed to get out. Now, he doesn’t let the shame get to him as often, won’t let it ruin this thing between them that he loves so much, this little piece of tranquility he’s gifted each night. Neil’s away with Susan tonight and Max really doesn’t need him around so he can hide away in the sanctuary of Eddie’s trailer for the whole night.
“Yeah, I can stay.”
Eddie smiles and cuddles up close to him, head against his chest and a leg in between Billy’s. His hair tickles Billy’s face so he brushes a hand through it, the action making Munson sigh soft and pretty.
When he first arrived in this town, he’d felt lost, hopeless, damned to be stuck in a place he didn’t belong. California had been his home, he belonged there, with the hot sun and sandy beaches. He hadn’t been built for Hawkins, Indiana.
But maybe he can adapt, maybe he can get used to life here, maybe he doesn’t need to run away back to Cali as soon as he gets the chance because in the quiet of the night, with Eddie in his arms in a bed that’s too small, he feels more at home than he ever has in his whole life.
If he’s damned to be here, at least he has this, at least he has these nights where he can feel protected and safe and loved.
Because Billy isn’t stupid, he knows why he’s so afraid to define this thing between them, knows what it is and what that means, what it makes him. Neil reminds him daily: “faggot” “faggot” “faggot”. It’s enough to make his eyes well up with tears he refuses to let slide down his face but then Eddie presses a kiss on his chest, right above his heart, and it washes Neil’s voice away, replaced with love instead.
Billy knows with every beat in his heart that Eddie Munson is worth being forced from his home, dragged to an unfamiliar place he never wanted to be, he knows that if he left the ache in his heart would probably become too much and it’d kill him because he now understands that home doesn’t necessarily have to be a place.
In the morning, they’ll go their separate ways, and Billy will put the mask back on, got to keep up appearances after all. But Billy will keep an eye on the other boy, if he catches anyone giving him shit Billy will smash their faces in, will knock their teeth out. He’ll go back to playing the role he’s supposed to play: tough guy, ladies man, a huge dick to anyone who pisses him off.
But when the day is gone and the moonlight’s shining, he’ll come crawling back to the trailer and feel at peace again.