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And then he looked up to the sky once more...knowing that he was safe, until next time..|
He knew from now on everything would be|
If someone had asked him where he'd be when he was in those sewers he would never of said here|
I hate writing I'm a shitty author someome kill me|
Bill sighed frustrately, tearing away yet anothet ink sunk paper from his type writer, that he bought out of spite and he guessed as a reminder from the time he was made fun of for listening to music on cassettes.
'Do you need a type writer to write down your feelings'
Yes, but now it's killing him and he really doesn't want to die of writer's block. Not now, not ever. Or maybe he could if it gets too bad, let the type writer take him.
"Richie told Freddie that Georgie is a super hero space cat, I just had to stop him from throwing him off the roof to see him fly" His husband Stan said, interupting his deep procrastination session, by wrapping his arms around him from behind him and pecking his neck softly.
"Not again, why haven't we filed a restraining order against him from seeing our kids?" Bill asked clearly, having grown out of his stutter years ago, only really coming back if he was really tired.
"Because..." Stan said, kissing his neck again "Richie's his godfather, he means well"
"He's the only thing on Eddie's house risk assessment" Bill said resting his head on the desk. Stan gripped his chair and pulled him away, Bill tried to stop him but failed...to put him simply, miserably.
"I'm nearly finished-"He protested as Stan span his chair away from the desk.
"You've been nearly finished for two days now, leave the ending for a minute, you don't want to rush it anyway or you'll throw it out of the window again" Stan said, chuckling softly, resting his hands on Bill's thighs, never able to take his pout seriously.
"That was one time..." He said as Stan removed his glasses from him.
"And it hurt like hell when it hit me" Stan smirked and Bill rolled his eyes, sitting up to kiss that stupid smirk that always rested on Stan's devious lips off him, the one he loved too much (not like he'd ever admit that outloud, he'd never hear the end of it)
When Stan deeped the kiss, Bill took this as an opportunity to push his chair back to his shit book. "Evil move Denbrough" Stan said, laughing as he pulled his petty husband away from his own mind-torture machine. "We need to go downstairs, it's a disaster,Conner isn't surviving well with the kids, Rue and Bev are burning down the kitchen as we speak and Eddie keeps complaining about cat allergies"
