Sidney Prescott had to be the most irritating person he had ever met. She thought she was so smart, believed that she was so above everyone else. Stuck up little prude. There wasn't one second he spent around her that he didn't want to gut her or stab her senseless.
Which is why he was currently having the worst sleepover in his life.
They'd all agreed to gather at Stu's house. It was a last week of summer sleepover; the Machers were out of town, Tatum had managed to swindle some pot away from a college friend, and Randy had just gotten rehired at the video store, so he'd brought about six or seven movies with him — which made his company a little more bearable. It was promised to be a night of endless fun, but Billy was sort of dreading it for one reason alone.
Sidney was coming.
Tatum didn't go anywhere without her. She was more of Sidney's boyfriend than Billy was at this point, they were attached at the hip. Tatum was so attentive and Sidney relied on her so much that it almost made Billy laugh. Almost. He was half worried that Sidney might fall for Tatum and totally fuck up their plans in the end, because let's face it: Tatum wouldn't turn her away. Not totally, at least.
Billy ground his jaw when they entered the front door — together, of course. He'd come early to Stu's to lament to him about it, but Randy was already there, a beer in hand and a remote in the other. He tried not to let it get under his skin, and it hadn't — that was, until the actual gathering began.
Sidney glued herself to his side like the normal fucking girlfriend she was. Like he even gave a fuck about her. She pressed herself against him on the couch as they watched some stupid romance movie that Tatum and Randy loved, for some reason. He allowed that. But the moment she tried to wrap herself around his arm, he stood, making some dumb excuse about going to get a beer.
He made a beeline through the kitchen straight into the garage, opening the door and shutting it behind him quickly. Once it was shut, he exhaled hard and kicked the railing, which made a loud noise that he hoped they didn't hear. Then again, the soundtrack of the movie was deafeningly loud from within the living room, so after a moment of collecting himself, he figured he was probably safe.
"Fucking bitch," he muttered to himself, descending the small stairs and beelining for the fridge at the other end of the garage.
He pulled open the garage door with a little too much force, flinching to catch the beers that teetered precariously in the fridge door. Nothing fell, but he was better safe than sorry. The last thing he needed right now was for someone to come running to check up on him.
He paused, shutting his eyes and forcing himself to draw a breath. Calm down, he thought to himself. Slow your roll.
It was when he reached for a beer that he felt hands dig into his waist. His heart dropped on instinct alone, stumbling as though he was alone in the house with a stranger on the phone.
"Have you checked the children?"
Billy didn't even turn, backhanding Stu in the arm without a second thought. "Hilarious," he said, probably meaning for it to sound less amused.
Stu heard the lilt to his tone though, and Billy could practically feel him grin as he pressed himself harder into Billy's back. "Why'd you up and leave?"
"I didn't up and leave," Billy said, grabbing a beer from the fridge and popping the cap off on the wall bottle opener. "Move, I need to shut this."
Stu waited until he'd shut the fridge door to ask, "Grab me one too, will ya?"
Billy scowled. "Grab your own," he grumbled, reopening the fridge.
"Thanks." Stu grinned as Billy handed him a beer. "But you totally did. You stormed out like you sat down on the stick that's up your ass."
"Shut up," Billy retorted. "It's all Sid's fault. She's so fucking clingy and it pisses me off. She hangs all over me while we watch a shitty movie and I'm not in the mood for any of it."
Stu hummed sympathetically, practically mocking Billy. "Aw. Is there any way I could help you get in the mood?" he teased.
Fuck him. He was so fucking stupid. Billy felt himself relax back into Stu automatically.
"You could try," he sulked stoically. "But that bitch really fucked it up for the rest of the night."
A pair of lips found his neck, kissing a spot that tingled at the contact. "We'll kill her," Stu reminded him in between kisses. "She'll be dead in a month."
That alone melted his stress, but Stu's mouth really evaporated the rest. Sucked it out more like, with the way he was kissing him.
"Okay, okay," he hissed, more affectionately than he'd intended. "Careful. Don't leave a mark." His free hand curled into a fist in Stu's (when had he grabbed onto Stu?) shirt, serving to ground them both. "They're outside, they're gonna see it."
"I'll be careful," Stu crooned complacently, not making any promises behind those words.
He pressed his nose into the junction where jaw met throat, effectively getting Billy to turn his head for easier access to it. He kissed it hard, making sure to set teeth and tongue off limits. One thing would lead to another, he knew it. And as tempting as that was, Stu knew Billy was right: it would definitely ruin their plans. Can't exactly get your girlfriend into bed if she knows you're gay, can you? He idly wondered if that was why Sidney hadn't given herself up to Billy yet.
In all the thinking, his mouth must have stilled — because in only a moment, Billy had grown impatient and turned around to face Stu. He kissed him, fervent and rough, hand moving from his waist to roam Stu's back.
Stu quickly leapt back into action, kissing back just as intensely. He wrapped his arms around Billy, backing him up until his back hit the fridge. He grunted, but only in mild surprise. In turn, he threaded his hand into Stu's hair, fisting in it as if to retaliate. That did little good though, as it only served to make Stu groan, open-mouthed. Billy took the chance to snag Stu's bottom lip between his teeth, deepening the kiss.
He could feel Stu smile into it.
They went on like that for a while, pressing against each other eagerly, strangling one other with the intimacy. That was, until—
"Stu, what happened to 'be right back'?"
They leapt apart: Billy taking a swig of the beer to hide his kiss-bruised lips and Stu whirling around and opening the fridge so fast that the door nearly came off of its hinges. He bent over and practically stuck his face in it, just in time for Tatum's voice behind the door to reach the knob.
She stared into the garage, utterly jaded until she evaluated the scene before her. Her brow furrowed as her eyes flicked from Stu, to Billy, back to Stu, then to Billy again. She frowned.
"What the hell's taking you so long?"
She could have been talking to either of them, but Stu answered before Billy could. "Nothing, baby. I'm getting the beers, jeez," he chided innocently. "What, we can't take a breather?"
Tatum curled her lip and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You two hate romance and love and all things worthwhile, I know." She turned on her heel, leaving the door wide open. "Just hurry up, you can take your breather in the kitchen, after you give us the beers, alright?"
As her footsteps faded, Billy let out an exhale he hadn't known he'd been holding. He turned to Stu, who was still bent over in the fridge like a chick in a bad porno.
"Come on, we've gotta save face."
Stu didn't budge. "I can't."
Okay, maybe this was turning out to be a bad porno. "Why not?" Billy asked.
Stu peeked over the fridge. "I'm hard."
"You're what?"
"I'm hard, Billy. Like, an erection."
Billy recoiled, if only out of surprise. "Why?"
Stu looked almost offended. "What do you mean 'why?' You know why!"
"You got—" Billy glanced back over his shoulder towards the very open door, voice quieting. "Hard over that? You know where we are."
"The heart wants what it wants, Billy."
Billy scoffed involuntarily. "Well, take care of it. One of us has to make an appearance sooner or later."
With pleading eyes, Stu looked at Billy, who stared back at him blankly.
"What?"
"Can you take care of it for me?"
Billy turned and left the garage.
"Fine! Then I'll just think about Tatum the whole time!" Stu called after him as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen again.
That night, as everyone laid across some form of furniture or another, Billy thought to himself: in a month, half of the group would be dead. They'd all be victims of what would be written off as a serial murder-suicide, and the only people left to tell the tale would be him and—
"Billy."
He didn't flinch, but he was shaken from his thoughts at the sudden use of his name — especially when he'd thought he was the only one awake.
He shifted, craning his neck to face Stu, who was strewn over the couch above Billy from his spot on the floor.
"Yeah?"
Through the darkness, Billy could just make out the smile rising on Stu's face. "I lied."
His frown contrasted that of his friend's expression. "Lied?" he asked, completely lost. "About what?"
Stu's shit eating grin would have pissed him off, had Stu been anyone else. He stared at him, head hovering over the pillow to gaze down upon Billy.
"I was totally thinking about you," he confessed, and flopped back down to his pillow.
And had Billy been anyone else, he wouldn't have laughed.
STUILLY WEEK 2025 (Day One: Slumber Party)
Credits to the coordinators of this year's Stuilly week: @kikiteaa and @axxiomn
Came down with a really nasty illness a while back that left me with limited mobility and cognitive issues so I’ve been doing art studies every day to try and relearn how to write and draw and use my hands and shit. This is a late entry for Stuilly Week ‘25 but, hey, it’s practice and it’s progress.
Stuilly Week 2025: Day 1- Sleepover Party/ Prom Night
Went with ‘Sleepover Party’ but I snuck the ‘Prom Night’ prompt option in there as an easter egg because it amused me
(Also Billy’s gonna flip when he sees the work Stu’s done to his neck)
