hyperactive | ic contact || deerington.

Ugh, shut up.

[ another laugh, quieter than the last. he kind of wants to head out now, put today to bed - dinner with logan was A Lot, and dwelling on turning eighteen an entire planar fucking universe away from his dad has been weighing on him for the past few days, too. he just needs a good night's sleep to wash away all this heavy, sentimental stirring in his chest, and now that they're heading towards a lull in the conversation, he feels like he could probably sign off pretty easily. ]

Thanks again for the cupcakes. And...

[ but he still doesn't really want to. stiles darts his tongue between his lips and casts around for words to fill the silence, an excuse to stretch talking to billy out a little while longer. he comes up empty, and it's obvious he's coming up empty, from the quiet ums and uhs to the gentle stretches of nothing between them. ]

And, um. Yeah. I....

[ another pause, until stiles lands on something that works. ]

What's, um - oh! We could watch another movie together? If you want to. Not now, but - soon, maybe?

[ listening to the sound of stiles' voice and the gentle, distant sound of his breathing over the phone is, for whatever reason, very soothing to billy, who finds himself relaxing rather quickly, slowly approaching that hazy space between being awake and asleep. he doesn't laugh so much as he hums when stiles tells him to shut up, but it's still fairly evident in just the one note that he's at least a little bit amused.

billy's mostly aware that he should probably let stiles go now that the conversation seems to be winding down, but it's just... a lot easier to listen to him kind of stumble his way through trying to find something else they could talk about. he breathes in through his nose, forcing his eyes open a little to keep himself from crossing that threshold between alert and asleep so he can answer stiles. ]

Mn, no, yeah. Definitely. Another movie sounds good. You can pick. I'll, um. I'll bring the... chicken tenders. Or whatever you want. On me. Or you can come here and I'll have 'em here for you. Bring Frogger's boyfriend.

[ stiles still wants to drag this out, but he's starting to hear the sleepiness in billy's voice, and it starts to feel like something of a dick move to drag his feet on hanging up. there's more jokes in his head, stupid little comments about chicken tenders and frogger's boyfriend all lined up and ready to spring out, but he loses his battle of wills against himself. he's gotta let billy go. ]

We can plan it out later. I'll text you?

[ if i can read the letters, ha ha, he almost says, just barely, barely, barely managing to stop himself but genuinely wincing all the same. jesus. he shakes his head, even though billy can't see it. ]

Night, Billy.

[ with whatever energy he's got left, billy wriggles to get himself under his covers, pulling his comforter up to his chin while he keeps the phone to his ear with his other hand. despite the rough start to the evening, it's actually been a pretty good night. billy feels... content. he hums his agreement over the phone again and nods his head slightly, like that'll some how make his response more clear. ]

Mmkay. ... Or call. Whatever's easier. [ billy breathes out, then tilts onto his side, cracking his eyes open a little and stretching an arm out for he lamp by his bed so he can switch it off. ] ... Night, Stiles.

ic contact || deerington.

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