Kiss with a Fist

Chapter 5

A/n: things get steamy in this chapter. Also heads up, I'm British so I'm doing my best with the American slang. I don't know how much a buck is, and I don't do drugs so I don't know if that's an accurate amount.

Billy tensed, gripping the keys of his Camaro in his hand so tightly the metal bit into his skin drawing blood from his palm.

He couldn't see his father's car, he was sure his father was at work, but the uneasy feeling wouldn't go away.

After he'd fled Steve's he'd gone and bought some cheap beer and driven to the quarry, wallowing in his self hatred for awhile before driving home, narrowly escaping being pulled over for drunk driving.

His father wasn't back from work yet, so he could go curl up in bed and cry if he wanted to, or work out until he dropped but he wasn't sure if his body would like that option.

Yet he couldn't get past the corrosive nervousness that sat like a brick in his gut and doused his insides in a fire that burned him up from the inside out.

Sucking in a breathing and bracing his body for the chance that his father was there for whatever reason, he entered the house.

He was met with an eerie quiet. That was good. He thinks. It means no Neil at least. Max was at with her friends because it was the weekend. Susan was at book club.

He was safe. For now. That meant he could let down the walls he'd built around himself. He didn't have to filter and shape himself into the macho-asshole he needed to be to avoid incurring his father's wrath any further. He could cry freely, without being called a pussy or a Pansy. So Billy raided the cupboard till he found a packet of apple and cinnamon pop tarts, popped them in the toaster, made himself some hot chocolate and went to his room to watch eldritch horror and cry into his pillow until his head hurt. Again. But he felt better for it.

He washed his red and puffy face before he picked Max up at six. His father still wasn't home, that was surprising but Billy decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. His father wasn't here, so Billy could finally go out and have some fun without getting a beating for it later, he just had to make sure he was home before eight the next morning, he knew if his father wasn't home by 6 then he wouldn't be back until morning. Because Susan did dinner for 6:30 and Neil insisted they eat dinner as a family ever night. So if he wasn't back now, he was out getting drunk. Billy just had to be home before Neil in the morning and he could go out, forget about everything for a while.

Tina was having a party tonight, he remembered. He'd been invited of course. He was invited to every party. He was Keg King.

He wanted to badly to feel oblivion. To forget about the guilt pooling in his stomach over the pain he'd caused Steve, wanted to forget about the pain lashing at his back and his sides and he stomach. He definitely wasn't going to be able to go shirtless.

He'd have to avoid the girls wanted to get in his pants. It wasn't like he enjoyed it anyway. No matter how many times he forced himself to conform, to try and be a normal straight macho asshole, he would still spend hours in the shower after each hook up, scrubbing his skin and feeling ill. It didn't feel right, but he had to keep up the facade. Keep fooling the town of Hawkins that Billy Hargrove was your typical heterosexual jock. The perfect Californian God.

Maybe he'd let one of the girls give him a blow job and just close his eyes and pretend it was a guy, he needed some sort of release, to escape the thoughts in his head.

He dressed in the tight fitting leather trousers that hugged his body in all the right places, he pulled on the red shirt that the ladies loved, but only unbutton two buttons this time, not wanting to expose the bruises on his chest.