King

The Thing about Alcohol

Tonight was the night, Max thought to herself, the best night of the year.

Halloween.

This was the night where literally anyone can be anything they want to be free of judgement. A truly grand excuse to escape the ongoing bullshit of one's day to day life if not only for a few hours. Max sat on Will's bed, waiting for Lucas, Will, and Mike to finish getting ready. Eleven was putting finishing touches on her Frankenstein face paint, stopping for a moment to smile at Max as they met eyes in the mirror. It didn't take long for the boys to come out all ready to go, and as if on cue a series of loud honks came from the driveway outside. Billy had arrived.

The group walked outside to the pristine blue car, standing awkwardly in silence as Billy got out of his car, stomping out his cigarette on the gravel.

"Harrington still coming? You all are not gonna try to fit into my car."

Billy scoffed looking at the dying light of his mashed cigarette, a sigh escaping his chapped lips. Max had concluded that Billy was in a bad mood already, this was sure to be a long night.

She didn't even bother to answer her older brother, the group just stood near the car in an awkward silence, the younger kids exchanging uncomfortable glances amongst themselves. Bright yellow headlights bounced up the driveway, the dark cloak of night lifting to reveal an ugly brown station wagon. Dustin was in the back seat, waving his friends to get in the car, as Steve shifted the car into park, and slid over to the passenger seat just in time for Billy to swing into the driver's seat. The station wagon swayed as each passenger entered.

Awkward was the only way to describe the current situation. Steve definitely did not want to come tonight, but a pleading Dustin is just something you cannot say no to. Steve took the current opportunity to look at everyone's costumes, cranking around in his seat to look behind him.

Max - a Raggedy Ann doll; ironic with the hair.
Eleven - Frankenstein; a good ol classic.
Lucas - A scarecrow...okay.
Mike - Ripley from Alien...wait, isn't Ripley a girl? Whatever -
Dustin - Terminator, badass.
Will - a Wizard; should've expected that one.
Himself - Danny from Grease, I mean why not? He has the hair.
And Billy - oh shit...

Steve began to have a mini panic attack, Billy, the only person in the car that was his age, hadn't dressed up. Was Steve being immature? Was he too old for Halloween and now embarrassing himself? Great! Billy had to be getting a huge kick out of this right now. Steve decided to stay quiet.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~

1:26 am, the younger kids were done.

Everybody was tired and needed sleep. Billy drove each of the kids back to their respectful home, Max was spending the night at Eleven's however, but other than that each kid was finally home, each being a proud owner of substantial bags of candy after hitting up the rich neighborhoods. Steve started to get out of his dads station wagon once Max was safely in the house. He was ready to go home.

"Hey Harrington, wanna get a quick drink with me?"

Steve froze.

"What? Don't we need ID-"

"No need for that, got a bottle in my trunk." Billy interrupted. "C'mon before I change my mind Grease Lighting."

Billy hopped out and strode over to his Camaro, revving it up when Steve fumbled his way into the passenger seat. What was he doing? He thought to himself, regretting his decision the moment Billy laid rubber on his way out of the driveway.

Thank God for seatbelts.

The drive was quiet, but relatively short. Billy parked in the lot of the old drive in, it had gone out of business about three years ago, and the stands were covered in graffiti, but Steve understood why Billy was here the moment he saw him lay on the hood on his car, following his gaze up to the moon and the stars. Billy gestured for Steve to join him, so Steve did, being conscious of his feet to not ruin the car's paint.

"Why are we here again?" Steve asked, eyes not leaving the night sky above.

There was a quiet pause. "I felt like drinking, but it doesn't feel like a night to be drinking alone." Billy stated plainly. Taking a swig of Jack before passing the bottle. Steve took note that he hadn't even noticed Billy get the bottle from the trunk, he was in a total trance.

"'But why me? You could've picked up any chick you know."

"Harrington if you don't want to be here just go, just don't expect a ride."

Steve cringed at Billy's bark, looking over as the gruff boy took another long swig. A long swig that reflected his own pain filled nights at home. Steve recognized this kind of drinking.

"Alright, spill it." Steve said, turning on his side to face Billy.

Irritated, Billy glared at Steve. "What the hell are you talking about now."

"You're hurting. That's obvious, besides you're getting me drunk so I likely won't remember a thing you're gonna tell me so spill it. It'll do you good." Steve took the bottle and drank some more, meeting eyes with Billy.

"You wouldn't understand Harrington. Mind your own and be quiet for at least five minutes."

Billy reached for the bottle of alcohol, Steve pulling it farther out of Billy's reach. "Try me." He challenged. "I won't judge. If you don't believe me... well just remember that I don't want you to hand my ass to me again."

Billy chuckled, raising his eyebrows at Steve's remark. But still he didn't say a word.

"For real, does he beat you?"

Billy looked at Steve, a serious expression on his face. He knew who 'he' was. It was none of Steve's business, he knew that, yet Billy felt himself nodding involuntarily as he took another long drink. He was gonna need it.

"Why?"

"Neil doesn't need a reason. That's just who he is." Billy picked his cuticles now, avoiding eye contact, avoiding vulnerability.

Steve covered Billy's hand, preventing him to continue picking. "Billy you know that doesn't make it okay right?"

Billy pulled his hands back as if he were burned by fire. He was sitting up now, staring into Steve's concerned face.

"You wouldn't...understand. I deserve it." Billy replied solemnly. Steve looked down, shaking his head.

Billy's head felt fuzzy, there was bliss in the back of his brain and agony in the front. When drunk, they mix together, and he spills. He's always hated that about himself. Billy was a pushover drunk.

Steve was smashed too. At what point the bottle became empty, neither remembered. All they knew was they were smashed. After a long silence, Steve spoke.

"I like you..." Steve said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly at Billy's wide eyed reaction.

Billy laughed, an involuntary tear rolling down his cheek. "So what you're a fag now?"

"Me? No no...chicks are-HOT you know like I love women. But then I see you in the showers and I'm like damn, wouldn't mind hitting that." Steve met eyes with Billy. "Man now this is awkward..."

Billy was on the ground laughing, making Steve laugh too, particularly out of fear of getting beat, partially because of the words that left his mouth.

Wiping tears from his eyes Billy slapped Steve's shoulder playfully. "You know Harrington you aren't that bad."

"Thanks..." Steve replied meekly, blushing, before lacing his fingers into Billy's, after his hand lingered on Steve's shoulder for just a moment too long.

The thing about being drunk, is anything can happen. That is what Steve found out about Billy as their lips met in a forceful collision of angst, and need. Teeth grazed lips, fingers fumbled at frayed shirt hems, belt buckles clinked echoing through the cool breeze of night. Right and wrong, priorities and responsibility - alcohol blurred all lines, and judgement went out the window by the time that the blue Camaro rocked and creaked with every jerk of its owners hips into the now whimpering greaser.

Bright red racing stripes were strewn across Billy's back, and dark purple hickeys lay from Steve's ear down to his collarbone. They were marked. These marks were going to be a bitch of a reminder to wake up to in the morning.

For better or for worse...

The thought had crossed Steve's mind as he drifted off into the best sleep he had experienced in a long time.