Chapter Text
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With love, from Robert.
Bill read the small note while paying attention to the curls each handwritten letter made. It was a neat style, very elegant and sophisticated. It told tales of how much practice it required to achieve such refined state and Bill’s writer mind couldn’t help but add more details to the man that had been sending him gifts for the past few months.
A nobleman, wearing a very stylish suit came into his imagination. Sharp cheekbones adorned his face and he surely would belong to a narrative made in old times. Perhaps he would be a doctor, an attorney, quite possibly an engineer or some other career that allowed him to accumulate a considerable fortune, and it couldn’t be far away from the actual reality, not when Bill’s pile of presents exceeded thousands of dollars.
His phone was living proof of such wealth, just like many of his clothes and food and even part of his tuition.
He didn’t take pride in it, though. At least, a part of his mind would still complain whenever Robert found it appropriate to mail him surprises and pamper the one he so liked to call “little buddy”.
As much as the gifts were extravagant, always from the best brands, never costing what a mere mortal could afford, they were never useless. Some, like the jewelry, could be considered capricious, but Bill knew they had been chosen especially for him. Robert always had the trouble of going after things that he thought Bill would appreciate, and so, even if Bill didn’t wear them, he kept all the ornaments.
With a sigh, the note was left right inside a drawer, along with the many others Robert had sent his way, dating all the way back when their unusual relationship began.
Bill had been a struggling university student, as many others across the world.
Coming from a rotting family, with his father succumbing to alcohol and debts and his mother unable to overcome her grief over the loss of their youngest son, Bill found himself growing up with almost no back up.
All his childhood friends took their paths and Bill, armed by only his desire of writing, English skills and spite, also decided to shape a path of his own.
A degree was not a cheap adventure, he knew that, but even with a part time job it was proving to be difficult, if not nearly impossible, to pay for an education. It became even worse when Bill started to receive awful grades simply for not sticking to the professor’s preferred genre; if before he was having trouble keeping up with the tight schedule of working and studying time, with his motivation dulled, his days became grey.
However, writing, alongside drawing, still remained his passion and it was on a whim that the idea came.
Bill always had a presence online, although a small one. Scrolling through social media, watching random videos and movies, talking to some fellow horror lovers was what he usually did, but once he started to share his own creations, the possibility of creating engagement and unwind presented itself.
He made some acquaintances, realized that his work wasn’t as pointless as his teacher and classmates wanted to paint it to be, and met him.
Thinking back, Bill still has no idea how Robert even found his profile, but ever since the beginning the man, who had not even a single picture of himself online and identified as Mr. Gray, made sure to show how much he appreciated everything Bill dared to post in his account.
Endearing, uplifting, and it only helped how Mr. Gray engaged in any type of discussion Bill proposed, showing that their interests aligned greatly.
As time passed, Bill drifted more and more to that man that was equally an incognito and a friend. Talking to him was comforting, Bill also found his comments funny, smart, at times snarky, and without even realizing he started to value Mr. Gray’s opinions and presence, even if it only resumed to beeps from his phone.
The exact occasion when the gifting started was actually on Bill’s birthday. By demand, he figured that sending his online friend an address for a harmless card wouldn’t entail in anything else, but was he shocked when a cellphone worth more than months of his entire paycheck arrived, sitting innocently in a box, surrounded by rose petals and a note revealing Mr. Gray’s first name.
He couldn’t accept that, but neither could Robert, using the argument that a professional phone like that would do wonders to Bill’s life. He wasn’t exaggerating and Bill hadn’t the heart to sell such an expensive gift, but by then he was still unaware that with this simple fact, he had opened the door for more packages to arrive.
Presents strictly sent on important holidays started to come without any real important date behind, adorning Bill’s dormitory room, painting supplies and even body.
Robert never really asked for anything in return, only throwing some suggestions here and there of not wishing to remain as just friends. He never pressed when this specific topic was diverted, instead, he welcomed the pressure for meeting in real life that Bill was starting to create.
It was understandable, after all, even after all the late conversations, built trust and pampering, Robert Gray was still a faceless character, a man inhabiting Bill’s imagination and taking any shape that his avid imagination saw fitting.
It felt wrong to have someone as important as Robert, whose actions had affected Bill’s life so directly, be a stranger. He wanted to properly meet the man.
In his mind, a simple walk would suffice. An afternoon in a library, a park, some nice restaurant or a bar. Robert decided to invite him to one of the fanciest places all around town, a chinese establishment famous for its food.
Bill recognized the plan; Robert wanted to pay for everything, spoil him all over again, but Bill went prepared with money of his own and a polite denial.
It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy being pampered, he only planned on creating limits and boundaries.
The place seemed like an old monument, all decorated with statues glowing like gold and plants that recreated the atmosphere of a serene temple.
Bill had seen pictures and read comments of said restaurant, but it was the first time he was actually stepping inside, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the glamour and grace staff and patrons alike carried themselves with.
Upon mentioning the name of his companion, Bill was guided through the saloon, stopping by a secluded table where a man with ginger hair was waiting.
“Rob,” The nickname slipped out and suddenly Bill felt awkward, not sure if he really had the right to act like that, for even though, technically, they had known each other for many months, maybe their online intimacy didn’t translate to real life.
Robert, however, smiled slyly, placing his phone on the table and then getting up. He wore some expensive suit that fit all his angles beautifully and as he stepped closer, pushing the chair so Bill could sit, their height difference became more than evident.
“Little buddy,” Bill felt a chill going down his spine as the hot breath hit the shell of his ear. He couldn’t see it, but imagined that Robert’s smile never left his face. ”So, am I the way you’ve been picturing?” He asked after going back to his place, catching Bill’s eyes and seeming very at ease.
The aura of calmness coming from him started to affect Bill, who was slowly losing all his previous tension.
“S-Sorta...” However, a small hiccup with his stutter and his confidence was spiralling through his fingers, but Robert didn’t seem bothered, instead tilting his head, curious.
“How so?”
“You aren’t a creepy old m-man,” A heartbeat of silence before Robert was laughing.
“Well, I’m not old,” He said, an eyebrow rising suggestively and then Bill was the one laughing, the mood melting and warming.
“I never imagined you with light hair, nor so tall,” Bill took a sip from the water recently poured and watched Robert’s handsome face being sculpted by the lights all around. He could easily be a model, even with his lazy eye.
“I didn’t come up with your nickname out of thin air,” He winked and Bill felt his cheeks redden, even more aware of the fact that their body types differed greatly.
Aiming to divert the topic, Bill grabbed the first thing floating in his mind.
“W-Why don’t you ever post pictures of yourself?”
“It would’ve spoiled the whole suspense, wouldn’t it, Billy?” Robert seemed to not tire of watching Bill, barely blinking, barely paying attention to anything else.
“It would have made me trust you sooner.”
“Perhaps… But perhaps not. It would certainly have stopped you from thinking about me as much.”
He was right. Bill had lost count of all the uncountable hours he wasted imagining and daydreaming with the man. Now that they had finally met, it felt like a fantasy taking form, becoming reality.
Robert surely looked like an aristocrat, but contrary to his speculations, the man was proving to be even more handsome than what his mind had invented.
“Your evil plan worked,” Bill confessed and Robert smiled, all teeth and mirth.
“I know.”
Between conversation and banter, they ordered some traditional dishes, using the time in their hands to keep talking, Bill trying to patch the holes in Robert’s background and know more about him.
“You worked with show business?” The surprise of finding such information made Bill widen his eyes in a lovely fashion.
“Detective Denbrough, ladies and gentlemen,” Robert seemed genuinely impressed.
“Wait… You’re famous, aren’t you?...” Bill whispered as realization shone upon him.
Robert raised his blue eyes, a naughty smile slowly framing his lips.
“Am I?” If the question was meant as a challenge or to earn some laughs, Bill couldn’t tell.
“Yeah, you’re Pennywise, the dancing clown,” The character that used to be all around children’s entertainment a few years prior.
Bill remembered watching many episodes of the clown’s show with his brother. Georgie loved Pennywise to bits, collecting every single toy and stationery that had his trademark smile and red balloon printed on it.
After the incident, however, Bill never once dared to watch the character again.
“Clever. You’ve got a good memory, little buddy,” Robert leaned a bit over the table. “I no longer perform, though. Retired years ago.”
“I thought you liked that life,” And all the fame and money that surely came with it.
Robert laughed quietly, taking a sip from his rum.
“Yes, but I wanted more. A young public could only take me so far,” He rested his hand dangerously close to Bill’s, their fingertips touching. Bill didn’t move away. “I’ve been getting political, creating connections… And happened to stumble on this angry writing student online.”
Bill couldn’t help but smile, remembering how basically all of his posts had a complaint about his university life and its misfortunes.
“It was adorable seeing him going from that to a confident artist,” Robert’s hand slowly ventured above Bill’s, the touch light. Yet again he didn't shy away and this was taken as a green light, Robert rubbing their fingers together before the contact was broken with their food arrival.
Dinner then progressed amidst more friendly conversation and promises of another meeting.
Robert's personality, Bill found out, was even brighter than what his messages let on; the man was playful, incredibly smart and it was difficult to not feel drawn to him, especially when they were so close, speaking face to face.
By the time they asked for the tab, Bill was wishing they could spend at least a few more hours together.
“Oh no, little buddy, you’re the guest here,” Robert tried to gently dismiss Bill’s attempt to fish for his wallet. “I could never.”
“But I want to,” He contested, drawing a line on sand. “You’re always gifting me, so I-”
“Because I like to,” Robert interrupted, sounding a bit more serious. “You deserve all the nice things, little one,” His hand crossed the table and held Bill’s again. “Let me.”
The waiter came and a pointed look was exchanged before Bill finally conceded, earning a happy smile and a weird, heavy sensation settling at the bottom of his stomach.
Robert offered to drive him back then, guiding Bill to where the chauffeur would be parking his car.
An expensive model, Bill noted, covered by a shiny black paint that made it even more elegant.
Luxury clearly laced every tiny part of Robert’s life and he seemed to want to do the same with Bill’s, but as tempting as the idea was, it didn’t seem fair; Bill wanted to obtain things through his own efforts, not by being handed everything, though, denying Robert was proving to be a difficult task.
“We can go wherever you want next time,” The car navigated through considerably empty streets, following the address typed in the GPS.
“Really?” Considering how all his suggestions had been vehemently denied in favor of the chinese restaurant, Bill allowed himself some distrust.
“Pinky promise,” Robert offered said finger, which was enough to break the bitter feeling holding Bill’s heart and he smiled, accepting the childish way of vowing.
“T-Then the park.”
“As you wish. You could bring a canvas or your sketchbook too, let your inner painter run free,” The suggestion wasn’t bad, actually. “Pick you up tomorrow? In the afternoon?”
Seeing that it was a Saturday and they had tentatively talked about it during dinner, Bill agreed, only then noticing that they were already parking right outside his building. The trip was short, more so than anticipated.
“Great,” Robert said, satisfied, watching as his companion unbuckled and prepared to leave the vehicle. “Little buddy,” He called, stopping Bill by touching his shoulder, locking gazes before slowly leaning in, kissing the corner of his mouth in a soft press. “See you tomorrow.”
Bill could only agree dumbly, stepping out of the car while butterflies fluttered all around his stomach.
“Draw me like one of your French girls,” Robert whispered near Bill’s ear, getting up from the bench they shared and going to stand near some bushes, hands inside pockets and a winning expression adorning his face as Bill laughed, his cheeks extremely warm and red.
“S-Shut up,” Bill found it in himself to complain, grabbing his phone to take pictures of all the poses his newest model was doing.
The first couple ones were purely for a laugh, but as Robert started to take it seriously and looked to the camera, to Bill, the mood changed, becoming more serious, more tantalizing.
The idea of using Robert to pose and serve as a guide for sketches came from the man himself. Bill had no reasons to oppose, he just didn’t expect the moment to become so intimate.
“You s-should be a model, for real, I mean,” He suggested in a small voice, keeping his head down and eyes locked on his sketchbook, suddenly too shy to face Robert.
“I think you’re way more fitting for that than I, little buddy,” The man replied with ease, walking back to where Bill sat, watching as he took hold of some art supplies, testing a few before deciding on a sepia colored pencil.
“I’m just the backstage guy,” Bill said simply, his eyes still glued on the empty page before long fingers touched his chin, forcing him to pay attention to Robert’s unreadable face.
“Not to me,” They were so close that it was possible to see the golden strips coloring Robert’s eyes. Likewise, Bill knew the other man could even count the freckles on his skin if he wanted to.
Treacherously, his eyes started to slip down, pulled by some unknown force to Robert’s lips, the same ones that had almost stolen a full kiss in the previous night and that now rested so tempting close.
Just a small movement and they would be sharing each other’s warmth.
However, before Bill could take and use his courage, Robert closed the gap and kissed his forehead, fingers creating a gentle, if not somewhat desperate massage throughout his jaw.
“You’re way more special than what you believe, little one, ”He whispered after a few long seconds, stepping back. “I’ll go get us something to eat,” And like that, Robert left, Bill’s butterflies raging inside his stomach.
He had never been good with this type of matter, the romantic one. Even in his area of expertise -fiction, where his ideas ran wild- Bill fled the topic, preferring to soak his works with angst, gore and the obscure.
However, it would be a blatant lie if Bill said that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind at least once; what if their relationship went past the subtle line of friendship, what if he in fact acted on all the suggestions Robert made about crossing said line...?
Robert came back with some pastries and the idea stayed as just that, hiding in the corner of Bill’s brain, buried by insecurities.
“Is this me?” Robert pointed to the beginning of a sketch, passing Bill a croissant, not paying attention to how close they were, their thighs touching, their shoes clinking together.
“Hopefully,” Bill set the pencil aside, not protesting when Robert motioned to hold his sketchbook, trading it for a smoothie.
In silence, he observed his drawings being flipped by his curious companion. As any artist, there were some pretty embarrassing things hidden among the pages, but Robert never made a comment, instead, he focused on a message written in a very poor calligraphy right in the first page.
“Who’s Richie?” He asked, puzzled by the purposefully ugly drawing that accompanied the rather rude note involving Bill’s buttocks and this Richie’s face.
Bill almost choked, but recovered fast.
“A-An old friend,” He explained, a small smile showing. “We lost touch before university, but I heard he’s doing fine with standups,” Talking about his past stung a bit, for it held some loose ends.
“I didn’t know you used your sketchbook as a place for friend’s messages...” There was an annoyed nuance in his words, but it was gone before Bill could fully grasp it. “May I, little buddy?” He grabbed the pencil, waiting for permission before going back to where his drawing was being made.
Bill tried to see what was being written, not so subtly leaning close only to have his vision blocked by Robert hunching over it.
“No spying, Billy boy.”
Bill laughed quietly, returning to his seat and throwing away all the scrap from his now eaten meal in the nearest trash can.
“There, so you can remember today,” Robert announced once finished, but he kept the sketchbook closed, the mystery of his note only growing. “Promise me you will only read it later.”
“I promise,” Bill said back, their eyes meeting while Robert finally allowed Bill to take the object back. “I suppose I can’t keep drawing anymore...?”
“You can, but wouldn’t you rather trade it for some quality time with me?” Robert offered, a playful smile adorning his face as Bill made his decision.
The sketchbook returned to his backpack.
“Good boy,” Robert teased and Bill, cheeks burning, lightly bumped their shoulders before getting up, mumbling some insult jokingly.
The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting nearby stores, feeding doves and talking, laughing, getting even closer.
In a way, Bill felt like his relationship with Robert in real life wasn’t the same they cultivated online; it was fuller, closer, warmer, which came as a shock, since he had already deemed Robert as the closest person he'd ever had. Being shown that a bond with someone could become even more meaningful was a new concept that Bill was slowly grasping.
“Would you fancy dinner, little buddy?” The invitation came after sunset had settled, painting the sky with dark shades of pink and red, marking the beginning of night.
“Sure,” Bill shrugged, adding as an afterthought: “But no expensive restaurants.”
Robert sent him a quizzical look.
“Didn’t you enjoy last night?” For Bill could’ve only said that with their previous experience in mind.
Robert slowly stopped walking then, his companion following and soon they were both standing in a corner, shielded from curious passersby by a tree.
Bill worried his bottom lip, breaking eye contact.
“T-That’s not it, I just wanted something more… Me,” He raised his shoulders momentarily, feeling somewhat silly for saying such a thing, but it wasn’t far away from the truth: Bill wanted to at least be able to afford his own meals.
After a while, Robert showed a smile.
“Of course,” With a light touch to Bill’s cheek, he managed to break the seemingly tense atmosphere that had raised. “Whatever you want, little one.”
It seemed like a small achievement, a tiny boundary being established, but it was enough to leave Bill content for the remainder of their time together.