The Devils Bargain | stuilly | billyxstu | stuxbilly

Chapter 7

Stu felt the world fall on him slowly. First with the feel of the sandpaper sheets, then with the musty smell of a motel room that hadn't had much maintenance done for it. Stu's body hurt--not that--that's a surprise. But it was unwelcome.

Stu grumbled, his eyes slowly cracking open against the dim sunlight seeping through the curtains, causing him to wince. Hunger gnawed at him, a ravenous feeling as if he hadn't eaten in days. His mouth parched, body sticky and uncomfortable. Overall, he felt like death had walked in and began beating him down relentlessly.

His mouth was impossibly dry, and he felt messy. His hair was sticking to his forehead uncomfortably, and his clothes stuck to him like a clingy child. His skin felt sticky despite not having anything sticky on him.

He was all around uncomfortable, but nothing beat the pain that radiated up his body when he tried to sit up. He whimpered in pain as he winced, gasping for air, unable to sit up without feeling like the world was collapsing around him. The room was somehow impossibly quiet. No AC, no sound of birds or traffic. It was like this room was in a void, only amplifying his painful breaths.

Stu sat there for what felt like hours, breathing deliberately, and eventually the pain that was making just being alive unbearable melted around him. There were spikes sometimes, like suddenly becoming sober while insanely drunk, but it all just became bearable, or maybe that's what his exhausted body had now decided to make him think.

When the sun finally came down, Billy came into his room, obviously not expecting for Stu to be awake yet, based on the way he came strutting in.

Stu shifted as best he could, holding his breath so he wouldn't make some embarrassing, painful sounds, but he couldn't stop the shaky breath he let out when he adjusted himself enough to see Billy.

He looked about the same physically. His clothes were new, though, definitely bought from a store rather than stolen from someone's washing basket. His hair was slicked back in his usual style, but it looked like he'd had a hair cut. He looked good.

When they locked eyes, there was a change in him, he looked lighter, his eyes glowing just a little bit brighter before he veiled it back with indifference. But Stu had already seen it, and he would be lying if he said he didn't need that right now.

"You're awake?" Billy spoke; his question obviously meant to be rhetorical, or maybe to himself because the answer was obvious, but Stu responded nonetheless. "Yeah, I've been awake for a while now."

Billy paused by the table, now seemingly actually looking at Stu with a more meaningful stare, noticing Stu's current state until he moved again. "I've been busy all day."

"My mom's in full mom mode, man. Showering me with all this messed-up pampering."

Stu laughed, wincing, when a shot of pain electrified up his chest. "I'd love to be pampered. I don't think I could possibly feel worse as I do right now."

Billy furrowed his eyebrows, coming closer and pulling Stu's shirt up like it was fucking nothing because apparently, that's what he does now?? Stu felt his lungs collapse and his eyes widen as he watched Billy look down at his torso with an intense stare, unwrapping the clean bandages, his fingers tapping around the skin and despite that, no amount of pain was going to make him want him to stop.

His expression softened for a moment when he saw how much care had been put into dressing Stu's wounds. He hadn't checked. Had Billy been looking after him? Or was it Billy's mom? He hoped it was Billy because one, hell yeah! And two, it would be weird to be looked after by his mom.

Stu decided he wasn't going to question how he was sorted out in the bathroom department. He thinks he'd rather bleed out on the floor than imagine that whole sequence and he was sure Billy would rather pretend and desperately forget having to anything relating to Stu's bowels and bladder.