" LIPSTICK " + STENBROUGH

[10]

"how was your movie night, hon?"

"g-good," he says.

"that's nice."

"i-i'm gonna go u-up. want m-me to take juh-juh-georgie?" bill asks. his mother seems to freeze a bit.

"no, it's okay. just get some rest, sweetheart," his mother says. she gives him a smile that doesn't meet her eyes. he nods, and begins climbing the steps.

"wait, william?" he stops and looks at his mother, who is staring at him in confusion. "who's sweater is that?" bill stares down at the jumper he now wears, and then the green t-shirt in his hand.

bill walks out of betty ripsom's guest room, feeling tired all of a sudden. he rubs the bridge of his nose and heads downstairs.

while he can't drive yet, his friend group tends to make sure someone stays sober enough to check that everyone has a safe way of getting home, or will be safe crashing at the host's house. tonight, that responsibility is bill's. he can't find stan where he left him, and vaguely remembers seeing betty's bedroom door closed upstairs. bill shivers slightly. he already knows beverly is spending the night at betty's, because over the past four years they've become very good friends and probably would have hung out tonight regardless of a party.

on the dance floor, mike and carole are sill dancing. mike sees bill and gives him a thumbs up, then points to carole and mimics a steering wheel. he hopes that carole has another person driving that car, because she's too drunk to get behind the wheel.

richie and eddie have disappeared. or so he thinks, until he makes his way into the kitchen, where they are making out against a wall. bill assumes they'll be staying the night, as well.

and lastly, ben is sick and didn't even come, so everyone is accounted for. meaning bill can leave, and sleep off whatever slight hangover he could have because of richie and his fucking spiking. he's never letting richie tozier get him a drink again.

as he walks back to the living room, he bumps into stan. his dark hair is messy and mushed, and his face is red. he smirks, lifting a hand for a high five. bill hits it with his own.

"guess who just made out with a braless betty ripsom?" stanley asks, and bill makes vomiting noises and as wipes his hand on his jeans. stanley then pokes bill's collarbone. "woah, bev give you that?"

"s-shit! my mom i-is going to f-f-fucking freak if she s-sees this," bill says, panicking.

"no worries, dude. take this." stan suddenly pulls his jumper over his head, the shirt underneath riding up to show the pal skin of stomach and even a bit of his exposed ribcage—the boy is skinny enough for them to protrude a bit uncomfortably, actually.

bill is frozen for a second, but decides to take off his t-shirt and then put on the sweater. thankfully, the neckline is high enough to cover the purpling bruise on his collarbone. thank god for stanley uris and his modesty.

"th-thanks," bill says, smiling.

"it's no problem," he shrugs, adjusting his shirt. "just bring it back to school monday. and please, don't try to clean it. i have a strict process and i prefer to do it myself."

"of course i won't," bill assures. he doesn't stutter, and mentally cheers, as he does anytime he doesn't stutter.

"i think i'm going to head out. did you do a head count?" bill nods.

"i was just about to leave."

"we can ride together," stan suggests, and the two walk out of betty ripsom's house, both a bit drunk, and a bit tired. but happy, nonetheless.

"i, uh, i spilt hot ch-chocolate on my shu-shu-shirt, so stan l-lent me an extra s-sweater," bill explains. he pretends there isn't a hickey hidden underneath the collar. or another one hidden further down his chest. he pretends he isn't a little tipsy, and hadn't just come from a party. he pretends he simply spilt hot chocolate on his shirt at a movie night with his friends, and stan gave him his sweater to borrow, and everything is fine.

"oh, alright. goodnight, william."

"n-night."

and bill denbrough realizes he could walk through the door with a chest of hickeys, and his hair bleached, and his nose pierced and his mother's reaction would probably be the same.

"oh, alright."

because to bill denbrough's mother and father he is merely the boy who nearly cost them their angel, george.

——

this made me so uncomfortable to write!! sorry, i'm not very good at writing stuff like this.

and please don't comment about sexualizing them. yes, it's very wrong and i really don't condone it, but for one, these are the characters in this story and not the actors, and they're also the age most teenagers have sex. they also are! not! having! sex!! yeah, they're getting a bit handsy, but that isn't necessarily the same thing.

thanks for the appreciation on this book regardless, you're all so sweet!!

anyway, sorry this chapter is kind of a train wreck, but give it up for caring!stan i love him

- m