Strangest (end)
“Will fought like hell,” Dustin whispered, raising the binoculars. “When he was monstrified.”
“Why are you whispering, he can’t hear us,” Steve rolled his eyes, waving over at Billy, who blinked, then smirked back, shifting to pose across the couch with his legs splayed. Steve covered a snort. “There’s still some of him in there, anyway.”
“Yeah, but Will fought like hell, Steve. Will. Billy’s a shit ton bigger than Will, like five times his size!”
“So we’ll tie him up,” Steve grimaced.
“We’ll just tie him up, yeah, Steve, that sounds easy! Hey,” he narrowed his eyes. “You could tell him it was a sex thing.”
“In the gym sauna?” Steve wrinkled his nose. “He’s not an idiot.”
“So we tie him up first,” Dustin waggled his eyebrows, “—and then we take him to the sauna. We could put him in the trunk.”
“No trunks,” Steve cringed. “We’ll just...tie him up and put him in the back seat.”
“With duct tape,” Dustin waggled his eyebrows.
“What? No! Duct tape isn’t for sex,” Steve shuddered.
“Who’s Mr. Picky,” Dustin sighed. “Well, are you any good with rope? What if he gets out, Steve, he’ll run off and...evil. Possessed Billy could be worse than normal Billy, Steve!”
Steve groaned. “I knoooow. Can’t we drug him? Dope him to the gills, tie him up, and cook him.” He dropped to bury his face in his hands. “Jesus. I’m the worst boyfriend that ever lived.”
“You’re saving his life,” Dustin rolled his eyes. “What’s a little duct tape and kidnapping.”
“I’ve already kidnapped him once,” Steve moaned. “I mean, he said the second time didn’t count—”
“What’s one more?” Dustin folded his arms thoughtfully. “I mean, you murder once, you go to jail, but you murder three times, you don’t go to much more jail, do you?”
“Stay out of my house,” Steve stared at him, but Dustin just grinned, slapping his back.