Be My Escape

Chapter Eight

It didn't take long to get everything out of Billy's car and into their new apartment, since Eddie owned barely anything. Most things were piled up, still in boxes on the floor. The records sat in the box, next to the little end table which held the record player. Cherry had most of the apartment furnished already, but they were missing a dresser for the clothes. They decided to go out shopping for a cheap dresser, as well as some food for their fridge, considering they had nothing and lived off of whatever drive thru they pass by. It didn't take long for them to find a little second hand store a few blocks away.

Billy cut the engine and got out, walking into the building, Eddie in tow. They walked around for a while, browsing. "Here, baby," he said quietly, as if not to disturb the quiet atmosphere of the store, "This would look good on you." He held up a light blue denim jacket, looking a little worn, but still functional.

"That is very nice, Billy boy, but we're here for a dresser," Eddie responded, but still looking down at the price tag. "Wait, this is cheap. I want it."

Billy laughed, taking it from Eddie's hands and putting it over his arm to hold it. "We're getting it." He looked up from the jacket and smiled. "Bingo! Furniture is right over there."

They walked down the aisle, Eddie immediately searching for the cheapest dresser he could find. "Here's one!" It was a smaller dresser, the wood stained dark, and cheaper than the others. It also had another one right next to it, nearly identical. "Will these work? We can get one for each of us."

"Yeah, that would work," Billy replied, smiling at Eddie. He never thought he would be at this point, being domestic with his boyfriend, in the city he loved. Doing things he's only seen on tv or in his dreams, like shopping for furniture for the apartment he had just leased with the person he loves, driving around while holding hands, singing on the top of his lungs to make Eddie laugh. He didn't know how this happened, or if he had even deserved it, but he was happy. It scared him a little. What if it's just a passing moment? What if he tells the man he loves him, only for Eddie to leave? He was afraid of it not working out. He was afraid of fucking it up and the relationship burning to the ground, like every other relationship he had. He didn't want this to end. It couldn't end. He was so happy, it scared him. The only thing grounding him back to reality was the hand on his shoulder, his boyfriend's hand.

"You alright?" Eddie asked, "You're thinking too loud over there." He gave Billy's shoulder a gentle squeeze, before letting go. "Is it the dressers? You don't like them?"

Billy shook his head. "No, they're great. Sorry, I'm just in my head right now. It's all good." He gave Eddie a smile, resulting in an eyebrow being raised.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No, it's okay. Just you being here with me is helping." Billy turned his attention back to their cart. "Let's look for more clothes for me. I doubt you'd want me wearing everything in your dresser."

Eddie laughed. "Aw, but you look cute in my clothes. Wearing your boyfriend's clothes is a quintessential part of the dating experience!"

"I guess you're right," Billy replied, returning the laugh, "Besides, you have good taste."

They browsed for a while longer, Billy getting a few shirts and jeans, then they left, putting everything in the car, one of the dressers being strapped on the roof.

"Time to get food," Eddie said, feet on the dashboard, "If I have to look at another fast food burger, I'll vomit."

Billy laughed, turning into the parking lot of their local grocery store. "I'm a pretty good cook, you know. I'll make you a home cooked meal."

Eddie smiled, his hand moving to grab Billy's. "Me too! I taught myself when I was younger. My parents were never around so I had to learn how to feed myself. Then Uncle Wayne took me in after they got arrested, so he cooked for me. It was nice, not having to take care of myself for a while, but then he took a night job and I had to do it all over again. Only this time, he doesn't come home drunk and high and take my toys to sell for more booze. He sleeps most of the day." His smile faded while he spoke, looking down at their interlaced fingers.