Bloody Noses & Crack'd Crowns

Chapter 18

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY. All credit goes to TheWeaverofWorlds on ao3

As the week progressed, Bill became unmoored. He no longer spoke to the other Losers during classes, and at lunch he disappeared.

He spent that stolen hour in the dugout with Bradley. While there he could forget about the cage, about the Losers, about Stanley. Kissing Bradley was like morphine, dragging him into a hazy world without pain. Addictive. Bill was becoming dependent on the feeling of Bradley's tongue licking long swaths up his throat, the feeling of his stocky fingers curled in his hair. It was the only time he liked being alive anymore.

Bill knew that Mike and Eddie were worried. They had been having a lot more of those secret conversations without words, but he found himself not caring. Especially not with Bradley's hand snaking up his shirt, tracing lines into the skin just above his hipbones. Bill couldn't help but push into the touch, needing more, but instead Bradley shoved his hips down into the worn bench murmuring into Bill's ear, "patience, Denbrough."

Bill huffed.

"You're cute like this, all hot and bothered for me." Bradley dug his fingers into Bill's hips. "So different than when we first met."

"How s-so?" Bill asked, impatient for Bradley to finish speaking so that they could get back to kissing.

"You looked like a trampled flower, sitting here all alone." Bradley brought a hand back to Bill's cheek. The bruise had all but faded, the tender ache was just a hint of what it had once been. "Hurt. Broken. Lonely. Like an avenging angel, untouched and untouchable."

"And now?" Bill asked, trying not to squirm.

"Now you have me." Bradley sounded so satisfied, the smirk bringing out his dimples.

"Oh, yeah?" Bill asked, rising to the challenge.

"Yeah, and I know just how you like being touched."

"Really?"

"You're predictable, Denbrough."

"Then touch m-me."

Bradley's smirk grew, "I think I can manage that."

Bradley straddled Bill's lap, making sure to grind their crotches together as he settled himself. His hand on Bill's cheek moved to the red head's hair, grabbing hold. He teased Bill, bringing their lips inches a part, holding Bill back as his hand on his hip slipped under Bill's waistband.

Bill whined, the pain and need becoming too great.

Bradley's hold tightened. "So pretty for me."

Their lips crashed together.

The rain beat down on the dugout roof above them, covering the sound of their moans.

–

In the cafeteria, Stan looked out the windows at the dark clouds. Rain battered against the windows. It was an ugly day, which perfectly matched Stan's ugly mood. Bill was out there. Stan knew it. He had thought so in his gut for days, but today had confirmed it because today he had seen Bill darting out into the storm just as the final bell signaling lunch had began. What was he doing out there?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Richie asked.

Stan forced his attention back to the table. Everyone was looking at him. His skin prickled. He hated being the center of attention.

"Hey, Mike. Did you do the physics homework?" Ben asked abruptly pulling the papers from his bag. "I want to check some of my answers."

Mike smiled and did likewise.