“What is it Byers?” God they’re already late, Joyce seemed nice enough when Billy pulled up to pick Jonathan up but she did say ten pm no later and Billy’s pushing it by driving up at ten forty-five with the radio turned all the way up. And there’s that mumble of ‘nothing’ the familiar mumble of ‘nothing’ which has come to be known as something. A hand grabbed Jonathan’s wrist, tightening hard enough to leave bruises. “Look at me.” A demand, not a suggestion and forces Jonathan to look at him then. And there’s a moment of silence only shattered by Jonathan saying ‘ I’ve got to go inside, Billy’. And a growl escapes Billy’s lips, leans in and kisses Jonathan. It’s the first time that Billy’s initiated a kiss and there’s-- emotion there. Anger laced with something else, something that perhaps Billy can’t place. Pulls away after a moment, looks at Jonathan, eyebrows narrowed. “Get the fuck out of my car.”

“If you want to take a little chance-- I'm gonna show you a new dance..” 

“Don’t use your fucking teeth.” A general tip isn’t it? And that look on his face is amused. “Why are you asking? Jonathan asking to see that pretty mouth of yours around him or some shit?”

“...” There’s silence that follows this admission and Billy flicks his lighter to light that Marlboro Red that rests between his fingers. “Are you drunk or some shit Byers?”