Bill Hader Oneshots

After A Long Day of Work (IT Era)

Bill pushed through the front door at a quarter past midnight. I was in the dining room, half asleep on the kitchen table, the weight of my elbow the only thing keeping the book in front of me from fluttering shut. Seeing my husband, however, awakened me immediately.

"Sorry, the shoot went late," he said, shrugging off a jacket.

"Figured," I replied and stretched my arms over my head. Bill was without stage makeup, but still had his Richie Tozier curls, several of which hung into his face. He dropped his jacket on a chair next to me. I stiffen as he neared.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine." He kicked off his shoes with all the prevention of a teenager. There was something different about him, something I noticed right away. Now I was just waiting for him to notice.
"Really, are you okay? You seem kind of-" He had looked down too quickly as he slid the last of his right shoe off his foot and reached instinctively to his face to stop the fall of his...

Glasses. His fingers paused on the thick black frame while his mind connected the dots.

"Oh fuck, someone in props is probably losing their mind over these. I must've walked right off set with them." He looked at me, waiting for a snappy response, a laugh, any indication that I could hear him. I didn't move.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my arms tingled in a way that was not whole unpleasant. I was frozen, watching Bill as if he was an animal that might be triggered into attack with the slightest movement. It was peculiar, especially given that out of the two of us I was definitely the one acting more like an animal. Tense. Unresponsive. Bill noticed, naturally. He always noticed with me, even it was the smallest thing. Whether I was sad or cold or overwhelmed or starting to get stick. He stepped closer and my breath hitched.

"I should probably call them," he said. Ah, yes. The glasses.

"Mhm," I managed.

"Seriously, honey, you're starting to make me nerv-"

"You're probably hungry. And tired. Probably want to get to sleep as soon as possible," I rambled. How could it be that only a minute ago I was dipping my feet into the pool of sleep, ready to slide in any instant? I felt wide awake. Maybe too awake. My blood was running a race through my veins, boiling, sending my heart into overdrive. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. That didn't work. I pressed the nail of my thumb into the side of my index finger. That helped a little.

Just breathe, I told myself melodramatically. It's not his fault. He's had a long day. Let him rest.

"I ate on set a couple of hours ago." His head cocked to the side. He gazed at me like I was a puzzle piece and he was trying to understand what the image on the tiny shape could be. A tree? The leaf of a flower? Maybe he green shirt of a child running along a picturesque lake, tugging a wind-stuffed kite. The truth wasn't so quite so innocent.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"No," I said sharply, not helping my case.

"Did I do something?"

"No. Just go to bed. You need to sleep."

"I'm not tired. What's up?"

"C'mon, Bill," I groaned, "I'm trying to be a good person here and you're making it very difficult." That sent his eyebrows up for a moment. I picked my elbow off of my book and let the weight of the pages pull the cover down with a satisfying thwap. I briefly regretted losing my page, but I hadn't really absorbed anything I'd read in the last hour. I'd have to go find the last page I understood anyhow. With the same elbow I shoved the book away and it slid half a foot to the other side of the table.

"Am I? How's that?" Bill asked.

"How's what?"

"How are you trying to be a good person?"

"By letting my hardworking husband rest so he doesn't pass out tomorrow mid-scene." Bill chuckled lightly. He ran a hand through his curled hair and I crossed and uncrossed my legs.

"As opposed to?"

"As opposed to making him fuck me senseless." Now Bill froze. There was still tension in the air, but this time a different kind. It was like the air had turned into clear jello, all the sounds muffled and everything moving slower. I was sure if I dropped a marble from my waist height it would take a full minute to sink to the ground.

Then Bill broke the tension in one swoop. He walked all the way to my chair and scooped me up, bridal style. That was the way he carried me over the threshold of our bedroom.

The next morning he was almost late to work, not because he was tired, but because it took him fifteen minutes to find his Richie glasses where they had been cast behind the bedside table.

A/N: Hey y'all, hope you liked the story! If you want another one feel free to request, just send me a message and tell me the name/scenario/etc. If you can, please send something to my venmo. I'm in college so even a dollar helps!