Chapter Text
Bill spent years of building his new identity outside of eltingville only for it to be torn down the moment he saw Jerry that day. He looked so happy, hair more of a dirty blonde and it was a stupid haircut but it shimmered in the horrible lights of the convention.
Jerry was right, it must have been fate. Someone did this to them on purpose. Some stupid divine being maybe, but Bill was never religious for anything but his interests he defended so stubbornly.
And it all felt so simple then.
Bill drops a box of clothing onto the soft mattress, he hasn’t changed his style since they last saw each other. A wardrobe filled with worn-out flannels, graphic tees that never fit perfectly on his changing frame. So he’s a stress eater, so what. So maybe he spends days at a time staring at his popcorn ceiling, whatever.
Those days were over now, or at least, that’s the plan.
That was the plan when Jerry offered for him to move in. He thought Jerry got stupider over the years. Why would he even let him be near him after what happened? Sound the alarms! Call the cops! It’s the teenage arsonist!
Or… was…
He looks down at the bedsheets, they smell like fresh laundry and feel so soft he could practically melt. Jerry gave him his own room, he didn’t have to.
It’s a horrible gut feeling that tickles through his skin and settles into a long sigh from Bill… Jerry seriously isn’t mad!? He basically ruined their lives and made the four of them outcasted freaks!
In a way, they always were, weren’t they?
Four lost kids who just wanted to escape. For someone out there to understand them. And that’s why the club was created.
To escape…
“Bill? Do you need any help?”
Bill jumps, whirling around to look to Jerry. The man stands in the doorway with the soft gentle smile that comes oh so naturally to him, complete with a zelda shirt and sweatpants.
“Uh…” he takes one last look at Jerrys dorky outfit before shrugging, “Could you help out? These boxes are killing my back!”
His friend chuckles, it’s effortless like a breeze. Bills face gets hot when his hand brushes against Jerrys while they both try to pick up the box. His shimmering hair smells like board games and aloe vera.
Jerry sifts through the clothing pile, sorting shirts from pants from-
“Pffft-” he holds out a pair of Bills boxers, it has a conveniently placed superman right on the crotch area, “Sexy”. He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Give me those!!!” Bill snatches them, tossing them to the side with a red face. It’s just a joke… haha very funny, Jer.
There’s a comfortable silence as Bill watches Jerry sort through the box, the sun shining from the slightly-cracked-open window reflects off of his glasses. He never got a different frame shape.
Now that he thinks about it, has he really changed at all? Compared to–
“Bill?” his friends posture straightens, damn he is way taller than him, a concerned look on his face, “Hey uh… I know this is a big change… so if there’s something on your mind you can always talk to me… i–if you feel like it–” his grip tightens slightly on the Major Violence shirt he was about to fold.
He briefly considers the idea, but then again, what would he say? Hey I’m sorry for burning down the comic shop? I’m sorry for saying what I did. I’m sorry for ruining the one thing we both enjoyed in that shitty neighborhood. The only thing we enjoyed.
Bill feels tears creeping up, his nose tickling and scrunching up. Fuck fuck don’t cry. It’s okay now it’s fine. His eyes linger on Jerrys worried expression before looking away quickly.
“I’m fine, Jer. Just… this moving in shit is REALLY breaking my back”, he forces a awkward smile, “Probably wasn’t the best idea to sit watching TV and crap all summer right?”. He makes a point of dramatically stretching, hair poking out from places he never thought would get hair.
Jerry smiles back, his face relaxes in relief, believing the poorly put together lie. Then again, this was really killing his back. That warm smile dissolves into a laugh.
“You really haven’t changed at all, Bill”
Bill couldn’t fall asleep that night.