Archive of Our Own

Billy starts to find himself with the party a lot more than he wants to. 

At first, it was because Max wouldn’t let him out of her sight. Especially after Starcourt. She’d make up new reasons for him to stay around her, saying she had to get driven to the arcade, and he couldn’t leave because It’s winter in Hawkins, and I don’t want to get stuck waiting for you in the snow. And after getting pieced back together in a secret military hospital from multiple tentacle stab wounds, he realized some things just weren’t worth arguing about. 

At least, that’s what he tells himself. It’s definitely not because the first time she asked him to stay, he told her no, and she looked at him with those same pained eyes as the ones she had when he was bleeding out on the mall floor. 

And it’s one hundred percent not because sometimes she comes over to his government-gifted shabby apartment at three in the morning, even though she knows she has school in the morning, but she couldn’t remember if Billy took that band shirt she used to like or whatever half-assed lie she comes up with. And of course he has to let his step sister in, so she doesn’t freeze to death. And if they sit in silence, listening to some heavy metal he knows she hates, drinking hot chocolate he knows she loves, just so they can both pretend that she’s not there because she had a nightmare and wanted to make sure he was still alive...well who’s to know.

So yeah, it gets to a point where he kind of just goes with her everywhere and hangs out in the shadows, waiting until she’s ready to leave. It’s how he meets The Party 2.0. Well, meets them for a second time if you count that night. Apologizes to everyone. Really apologizes to Lucas. Pains him to look in the younger boy’s eyes, but he forces himself to do it. Lucas gives him a nod before going off back to his friends. Max gives him a smile, and it feels like it’s worth it.

Being around the party so much, he starts to pick up on little things about them. Like how Max has this air of childlike innocence that he never was allowed. That it looks good on her, and he likes seeing her like this. Or sometimes the princess looks at her boyfriend in a way that he only remembers from dreams of a better time with his parents. And he also notices how sometimes little Byers goes awfully quiet, but not in a weird way, just in that contemplative way like he knows something that everyone doesn’t. He catches Billy watching everyone sometimes, and those moments are when Billy’s most afraid the kid knows everything about Billy. Everything he’s pushed down so deep he doesn’t think it still exists.

But there’s Steve. And Billy can’t help but notice Steve. Notices him everywhere even where he isn’t. Notices the ever present eye bags and the jumpiness anytime an exhaust sputters. But he also notices the way Steve’s brown eyes twinkle when he laughs. Like they’ve caught a speck of sun from the summertime, and have no plans of ever letting it go. It’s only then does Billy know that that part of him that he’s been forced to push down for so long is still alive and kicking.

But Steve never seems to notice Billy. Only says “Oh, hey” in that surprised way as if Billy hasn’t been coming over for months now. Doesn’t even give him a chance to respond, always just that expression before running off to make more jokes with the freckled girl from the video store. And sometimes he’ll catch Steve staring and frowning at him, like he can’t believe that Max brought him back into their lives. And when he catches Steve’s eyes, the boy’s brows furrow, and he looks away. Those moments make Billy feel like they should’ve left him on that mall floor. 

But the worst part of it all, the thing that makes Billy’s heart clench in a way that feels like his heart is trying to choke itself to death, is that he never gets a smile. And yeah, it makes sense because what would Steve even have to smile at Billy for? It’s not like he’s done anything worthy of a smile. 

And yet. It still hurts every time he’s around Steve, and Steve doesn’t notice him except when he’s frowning or glaring, and he never smiles at him even though he always smiles at everyone even when Dustin or Buckley do something obnoxious like have a snowball fight inside. Because Billy just wants Steve to treat him like everyone else. Wants him to turn his gaze on Billy, gracing him with that dopey, casual but loving smile that always makes Billy’s heart beat uncomfortably in his chest. He wants it. Wants it so bad.

But Steve never smiles at him. Never notices him. At least not in the way Billy notices him. So Billy does what he’s been doing for the past 18 years and shoves that part of himself down.

________

It’s been several months since Starcourt, and Christmas is right around the corner. Billy’s never cared much about it, at least not since his mom moved out and Susan and Max moved in, but that’s the past, and he doesn’t think of that anymore. But when you only hang out with fourteen year olds, it’s bound to become a big thing which is why they’re all packed into Steve’s living room, hanging up Christmas lights as they plan shopping trips.

“Christmas is in a few days, and we still haven't gone gift shopping,” Dustin complains.

“Where are you getting this money from anyway?” Steve asks from behind the tree.

“That’s what you’re here for. Aren’t you rich?” Mike says from the couch. El sits next to him intently putting the hooks on the ornaments.

“Not him. His parents, ” Dustin chimes in.

“Is there even a difference?” Max asks, plopping next to Lucas.

Steve scoffs, holding his hand out for Dustin to pass him the garland. “Yes, there is. Anyways, aren’t your parents giving you gifts?”

“That’s why we’re doing two Christmases. One at home and one here. Like friendsgiving,” Lucas says.

“Friendsgiving already passed. We did that a month ago, remember?”

“Friendsmas then!”

Steve lets out a huff from behind the tree. “Can someone just pass me the garland, so I can wrap it around this end?”

“I don’t know why you’re decorating the back of the tree. Nobody’s gonna see it, dingus,” Robin says, shaking her head as she walks up next to him.

“If you’re not going to pass the garland, then leave.”

Billy stands off to the side, picking through the bucket of broken Christmas decorations, watching everyone go back and forth. He finds himself doing this a lot when he’s with them. They’re all so used to each other, from everything they’ve been through. Even Robin seems to have been initiated into the group by way of Dustin’s approval.

And Billy was never given that kind of treatment, which is fine seeing as he tried to kill them and all. And he’s only really here because of Max’s recent attachment issues, which he honestly doesn’t mind at this point. Kind of likes it to be honest. But yeah, it makes sense that no one really makes an effort to include him in conversations. And it’s fine. Totally, completely fine.

But sometimes, he watches them, the kids bickering with Steve, Nancy and Jonathan lost in their own worlds, and he craves to be a part of that. For it to be as if he’s actually important and relevant. Like he adds something to the group. Like he’s needed.

“We can split up and go Christmas shopping. There’s enough of us to each take a kid, so they don’t see what everyone else is getting them.”

Everyone turns towards him, and even Steve steps out from behind the tree. “You really don’t have to do that. Plus, it’s going to cost a lot for each of them to get everyone a gift,” he says.

“No, it’s okay. The government gave me some money after everything, and I don’t really have anything to do with it, so it just sits there. Might as well use it for something,” Billy shrugs. He’s trying to be nonchalant about it, but this is the first time Steve’s looked at him without frowning or glaring, and his heart and stomach are starting to do these weird twisty turny things. 

The kids look back and forth between Steve and Billy as if waiting for their parents to make a decision. After a moment, Steve nods hesitantly. “Yeah, sure, I guess. My parents left some money last time I was here, so I can help out too.”

They make plans to go in the morning, and cheers erupt from the kids, before they run off, discussing what gifts they want. 

Jonathan and Nancy sit on the couch, working on the ornaments, and Robin goes to talk to Steve. Billy finds his way back to the box, unsure of what to do with himself now. It’s moments like these, when Max is gone off being a child and he’s left with people his own age, that he feels the most alone.

Suddenly, he hears the sound of someone saying his name, and looks up just in time to see Steve shush Robin before looking away blushing. Robin nudges him, and Steve shakes his head. She whispers something, and Steve shakes his head more adamantly. Billy feels his heart clench again, and he yells at himself for letting those feelings come up earlier when Steve was looking at him. He racks his brain trying to figure out what he did for them to be talking about him, but comes up with nothing. He wishes he stayed silent instead of suggesting that because now he’s made it weird.

His name rings out again, this time from Steve, and Billy pushes his chair back, abruptly standing. He mutters something about going out for a smoke, and Robin shoves Steve again. He’s almost to the door when...

“Hey. I just wanted to say,” Steve eyes bounce off of Robin before returning to Billy. “Uh, can you pass me the other garland, please?”

By the look on Robin’s face, there’s something else Steve was supposed to say, but he gets the garland anyways, bringing it over to them. He goes to hand it to Robin, but she steps to the side, and Billy holds it out to Steve. Steve’s long fingers reach out, just barely grazing Billy’s hand. Their eyes meet in the process, and Billy can feel his heart pumping in his ears. He almost drops the garland. “Sorry,” he says, face going warm.

A similar blush starts to work its way up Steve’s face, and he immediately drops his eyes, cooling his expression. “It’s fine.” He steps back behind the tree, and Billy can hear him moving around there.

Billy stays put, waiting for Steve to pass the garland back around. He bites back a smile at the thought of finally being useful...Useful to Steve.

It doesn’t last.

“Robin, can you grab this and wrap it around that side,” Steve calls out. 

Billy hopes Robin doesn’t see the way his face drops. 

She does. 

Gives him one of those awkward pity looks, and that just makes everything worse.

He slips out the door, breaking in the process.

________

Everyone decides to spend the night at Steve’s, so they can all get an early start on Christmas shopping.

Billy takes the couch. Partly so the kids can have the beds, and partly because he doesn't trust himself to not fall asleep thinking how Steve probably slept on these same sheets. Doesn’t trust himself not to think about what other things Steve might’ve gotten up to on the sheets. In those beds. So yeah. He takes the couch. It’s safe.

Laying down, he tosses and turns before finally getting comfortable. It’s always been hard for him to sleep, and it seems to have gotten worse ever since the fourth of July. A few weeks ago, though, Max introduced him to this plant, lavender, that’s supposed to help him have peaceful dreams, and he hates to admit it, but he might like it more than he does weed because weed doesn’t hold off the nightmares with dreams of boys with constellation of moles splattered across their skin, long brunette hair, and doe eyes.

Tonight, however, he doesn’t have it with him, so he only lasts a few hours before frightening images start to plague his mind, sending him into a recurring nightmare.

But tonight’s different. Tonight, there’s someone in that military hospital with him. Someone calling for him, trying to save him. Someone with sunshine in their eyes.

“Billy, wake up!” 

His eyes fly open, and he shoots up, gasping for breath. Steve stands off to the side, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “Sorry, man. You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Billy says, his heart rate starting to return to normal. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” 

“Nah. I don't really sleep that much, so it’s fine.”

“Yeah. I can tell.” The words accidentally tumble from Billy’s mouth, and Steve gives him a confused look. “Your eyes are always slightly bloodshot, and you always have bags under your eyes.”

Steve frowns as his face falls with an oh , and Billy panics, trying to save the situation. “Don’t worry, you’re still a pretty boy, you just look like you need some sleep,” he finally adds. He hopes it’s dark enough that Steve can't see the blush on his cheeks.

Billy can see Steve turning over his words in his mind, before he nods. “Can always count on you to tell me how it is. Always laying me out on my ass, huh?”

Billy stutters, his mind going blank while simultaneously being overrun with multiple scenarios of Steve laid out on his ass . He really hopes it’s dark in here.

Steve’s voice finally cuts through his thoughts. “You want something to drink? Always helps me on nights like this.” 

Billy nods, adjusting himself, before following Steve into the kitchen.

Steve grabs two glasses before filling them with water. He walks over to Billy, his long fingers wrapped around the glass, and Billy clears his throat (and his mind) as he takes it from Steve. 

“When you said you wanted a drink, I was expecting a little something stronger,” he smirks.“Water works best, trust me,” Steve shrugs. He sees Billy’s skeptic look and smirks. “C’mon. I’m the one with the experience. Pretty boy who just needs to sleep, right?”

He leans his arms on the counter, a teasing look on his face, and Billy can’t help but laugh. It’s been a while, and the sound feels foreign coming from him, but he thinks he likes it. Especially when it’s for Steve. Steve, who’s not frowning at him this time, but instead watches him with a curious expression as if he’s trying to figure Billy out. And Billy stares back, open and vulnerable. Wants Steve to see him and to realize that maybe Billy’s okay. Maybe he’s enough for the group. Enough for Steve.

Billy sips his water, watching Steve watch him. There’s a hint of light starting to break through the window, and it dances across the room. It bounces across Steve’s face, catching on his brown eyes. Billy sighs, embracing those familiar feelings as they start to rise again. There’s sunshine in Steve’s eyes, and Billy so desperately wants to catch it.

________

“No, you don’t understand, Billy. The hair gel is for Mike not El,” Max rolls her eyes, as she adds another item to Billy’s already overflowing arms.

“Is that everything?” he huffs. 

Her eyes run over the list in her hands, before she nods with a grin. He grunts before starting to walk over to the cash register.

“Wait, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know. What’re you getting everyone?”

“It’s my money everyone’s spending. That’s present enough.”

She gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes. “I can’t get anything if you’re with me. I’ll just go by myself later tonight.”

“I can help you come up with ideas, if you want. I know what everyone likes.” He can hear the panic starting to rise in her voice. “Really, I don’t mind. Plus we’re already out, so we might as well get everything now. I won’t say anything to them.”

“What, you gonna’ miss me or something?” he says, watching her go red with annoyance and maybe something else.

“No. I was just saying, I can keep a secret if you want to get the stuff now. You don’t have to go alone.” Her eyes drop to the paper, but Billy can tell she’s not really reading it, just trying to avoid his gaze.

He knows this probably isn’t healthy the way she’s been acting with him lately, but if you see a (step) sibling die in front of you, then maybe a little unhealthy attachment is okay. And if he’s honest, he kind of appreciates her caring about him. Likes feeling wanted by someone.

“It’s okay, Max. I’ll just find someone to go with,” he shrugs. And he’s definitely lying because the only people who tolerate him are the party, and even then they just deal with him because of Max. And if yesterday’s incident with Robin, Steve, and the Christmas tree, he’s sure nobody’s going to be jumping at the chance to go Christmas shopping with him.

Max must know because she gets that look on her face like she’s thinking of something that will either end really good or really bad. And the way she grins up at Billy, he’s sure it’s the latter.

________

He’s right. He’s always right.

After they got back to Steve’s, Max ran off, and when she returned, she wasn’t alone. 

“Uh, Max? What’s going on?”

“Steve’s going to go shopping with you,” she says with a grin.

Billy’s mouth goes instantly dry, and he tries (and fails) to stutter out a protest.

“What? You said you were gonna’ find someone to go with anyways. I just helped you out,” she says innocently.

“Max,” he says, cutting his eyes at her.

“Don’t be a dick, Billy.”

“Don’t say, dick , Max,” Steve says, reminding them of his presence. 

Billy and Max turn to him, and a light blush comes to Steve’s face. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets, and his eyes keep darting to Billy before he looks back to the ground. “I don’t mind going. I’ve already wrapped the stuff I got with Dustin, so I’m free right now.”

“See,” Max chimes in. “It’s not a big deal, Billy.”

Billy looks at Steve, searching to see the motive behind this. He wants to believe that Steve genuinely doesn’t mind, but it’s not like they’ve been friends or something. And Steve always has that whole savior thing going on for him, so he’s probably only helping Billy out because he pities him.

But last night. 

Last night, something happened between them. At least he’d like to think something happened. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he really doesn’t want to go back to Steve only frowning or glaring at him. Now that he’s experienced what else there is, he needs more. It’s something he could get used to. Something he wants to get used to.

So, yeah. He says yes to Steve. Glares at Max. And hopes that this doesn’t end badly.

________

Billy owes Max an apology. If he makes it out of this alive, the first thing he’s going to do is buy her whatever skateboard she wants and give her a billion arcade tokens.

The whole thing started off very awkward with Steve. The ride and the shopping were equally silent except for the occasional words about what gift would be good for each kid. And when they got back, Billy had squeaked out a thanks, said his hellos to everyone, and snuck away into a room to wrap the gifts. 

He was making good progress, already on his last gift: Dustin’s weirdly shaped Farrah Fawcett hairspray. And Billy hated it. Hated it with a passion. Because who shapes a product like that and expects someone to wrap it without giving the entire gift away? 

And that’s how Steve found him. Sprawled out on the floor. Surrounded by ripped wrapped paper. On the verge of a breakdown.

“Uh, Billy?”

He groans, sitting up. “Gonna’ kill myself, Harrington. Death by the inability to wrap gifts.”

Steve chuckles and moves to sit across from him. “How’re you even doing it?”

Billy attempts to fold the paper again, and it rips.

“This fucking,” he raises the can going to throw it, when Steve suddenly reaches forward. His hand comes down, long fingers curling around Billy’s wrist. And Billy hates his body at this point. Hates how reactive it gets to anything Steve related. He feels the heat rush to his face, and quickly averts his eyes.

Steve, either doesn’t see, or he’s too nice to say anything because he just gives Billy a half smile and prys the can from  his hands.

“Cans have a special way to be wrapped. You just have to fold here and here and here.” He does a quick couple of folds before holding up the finished product with a satisfied grin. “It’s really simple once you figure it out.”

And seeing Steve smiling like this, at an inanimate object fills Billy with this gushy feeling that only intensifies when Steve’s eyes drop to him, that grin still bright on his face. For a moment, it’s like Steve’s actually smiling at him, and Billy wants to lose himself in it.

“You’re hot.” Steve says suddenly, casually at first, and then his brain seems to catch up to him. “I mean. Not like that kind of you’re hot , but like y’know, temperature wise you’re hot” his hand flails as he motions towards Billy’s red face, trying to explain himself. “Not that you’re not hot because you are. I mean-shit.” He lets out a groan, covering his face.

“You think I’m hot?” Billy says after a moment.

Steve gives him a flustered look. “C’mon, man. You know how you look. Everyone thinks you’re hot.”

“Everyone?”

Steve hesitates before shrugging. “I mean I may be a little dumb according to every college that rejected me, but I do have eyes.”

“Oh,” Billy says, a smile fighting its way onto his face. Because yeah, he knew how he looked before Starcourt. Knew the kind of effect he had on people. But post Starcourt, he knew he was a little different. He had gained a little weight, and his hair was a little longer because he still wasn’t comfortable in barbershops. 

But, he didn’t care about any of that. No. What really got to him, were the scars. They looked like puncture wounds that wrapped around his torso, making sure not to leave any part of him untouched. Max said they looked badass, but he thought they made him look weak. Weak because not only did he get caught up with that whole mess in the first place, but he wasn't strong enough to fight back against it using his body.

And he had never thought of himself as someone who wasn’t strong enough to fight back. Not in school, not at bars, not even with Neil. He always made sure to pick his battles carefully, and when he did pick them, he always won. 

So seeing these scars. Having to be constantly reminded of how weak and powerless he once was. How powerless he still might be. Yeah, he hates them. And if he can barely stand the sight of himself at times, how could he expect anyone else to stand the sight of him.

And yet.

Here Steve is. Steve who always helps people out even if they beat his face in and smashed a plate over his head. Steve who wakes people up from nightmares and stays up with them all night. Steve who went gift shopping with his highschool bully to appease a fourteen year old. Steve who helped him wrap a disproportionately shaped can of hairspray. Steve with sunshine in his eyes. Steve. Steve. Steve. Steve who thinks he’s hot. Thinks he’s still hot.

Yeah, it’s a lot to take in.

Humming to himself, he lays back on the ground, needing a moment. “Steve Harrington,” he breathes out.

“Yeah?”

“You’re good, man. That’s what I like about you. You’re always so good.” 

He says it more to himself, but when he sneaks a glance at Steve, the boy is silent, a contemplative look on his face as he watches Billy. It’s like the night before in the kitchen, when he’s sure Steve’s analyzing him more than Billy analyzes Steve. Like he’s starting to find that thing that Billy always pushes down. That thing that burns hot in his stomach every time he’s around Steve.

Billy wants him to find it.

________

Second Christmas goes as well as you think it would with six fourteen year olds. There’s a lot of “ladies get to open gifts first” followed by a “is that sexist? I think that’s sexist” but that’s forgotten when they see the gifts and everyone is aw-ing and hugging each other. The kids even love Billy’s gift, and Max gives him a proud look and a head nod, so yeah, he feels like it’s a pretty good day overall.

The kids are at the arcade, and Jonathan and Nancy are out on a date. Billy’s in the middle of cleaning up the wrapping paper, when Robin comes over to him.

“I know what you did,” She says, crossing her arms.

“What?”

“For Steve. I know you got him a gift.”

His ears go red, and he tries to think of an excuse. “Well, yeah. I got everyone a gift. I already gave it to him, remember?”

“Not that one. The other one. Max told me.”

He blanches at that. He knew he shouldn’t have asked her about it. Of course she’d find a way to use it against him.

“She said that if you didn’t do it before they went to the arcade, then I was supposed to make sure it happens while she’s gone.”

“And what if I don’t have it with me?”

“Then you’d be lying because Max saw you stuff it into your pocket before you left earlier today.”

He groans, cursing to himself. He looks towards the kitchen where Steve is fiddling with the stove as he attempts to make hot chocolate. As if feeling eyes on him, Steve looks up, catching Billy’s eyes. He starts to smile, but the milk starts bubbling, and he gets distracted.

“Look,” Robin starts, bringing his attention back to her. “I wouldn’t send you over there if I didn’t know you’d have a chance. That wouldn’t be very wingman-y of me, and I am a great wingman.”

He takes a breath, hand finding its way to the gift in his pocket. And Billy’s always loved California for its sunniness, so it only makes sense for him to chase the small piece of sunshine in dreary Hawkins. “Alright, I’ll be back.”

He starts to walk off, but Robin calls out to him. “Hey. I’m a good wingman right?” 

“We’ll see,” he shrugs, squeezing the gift in his pocket.

“I mean, if it works out. Which it will. Could you maybe be a good wingman to me?”

He gives her a look, and for the first time, he sees a hint of nervousness cross her face.

“Heather. Heather Holloway,” She starts awkwardly. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

And oh. Okay. Yeah. That makes sense. He smiles at her.

“I thought we were wingmen, Buckley. Isn’t it more like ‘You push me outta the tree, I pull you with me.’”

They share a grin, before he walks to the kitchen.

Steve looks up at his entrance, and nods at him. “Hey, man. Want a cup.”

“Sure.” 

Steve reaches for a mug, and Billy leans against the counter, hands shoved in his pockets, gripping the present. After a moment, Steve places a mug in front of Billy. He watches Billy take a sip. A moan escapes his lips as the heat warms his insides. “Shit, Harrington, what aren’t you good at?”

Steve huffs out a smug laugh. They fade into a comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and watching each other over the tops of the cups. It all feels very domestic, and it sparks something in Billy.

“I got you something.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. I didn’t have that record yet,” Steve says smiling.

“No. I uh got you something else. Something I didn’t want to give you in front of everyone.”

Steve leans forward, intrigued as Billy reaches into his pocket, pulling out the slightly dented box. 

“What’s all this, then?” He shakes the box in his ear, and Billy rolls his eyes. “C’mon, man. Just open it.”

Pulling off the paper, he opens the box, and cocks an eyebrow at the plant inside. “You got me weed?”

“No, no. It’s lavender,” he shrugs, averting his eyes. “It’s a plant. You put it in a sock under your pillow or in your pillow case. It helps you sleep.” Steve nods as he brings the plant to his nose. “I remembered what you said about not sleeping much, so I thought- Max showed it to me, and it helps most of the time.”

Billy finishes his speech and sneaks a glance at Steve who’s looking at the box with an unreadable expression. Billy feels a wave of embarrassment and nausea rush over him. He should’ve just left it upstairs for Steve to find, instead of doing all this. No, better yet, he should've never gotten it in the first place. 

This is all his fault for getting his hopes up. Why was he expecting anything to happen? Just because they helped each other out a few times, and had a few nice conversations, it doesn’t mean anything. Steve was just being nice, and Billy and his stupid aversion to feelings, misinterpreted it. As usual.

And now he has to deal with the consequences of everyone knowing. Well everyone being Buckley and Max, and probably all the kids sooner or later because he loves likes Max, but sometimes she lets things slip when she’s angry, and it’s only a matter of time.

Fuck, he’s so dumb for this. Dumb and weak and powerless.

And then, Steve Harrington is hugging him. Like full body, arms wrapped around his waist, head shoved into Billy’s neck, breathing lining up with Billy’s, type of hug.

And Billy positively melts.

He can only remember being hugged a total of three times in his life. He knows that his mom used to hug him all the time when he was young, but he can’t remember those all that well anymore. Only thinks of the time right before she left. How he cried in her arms, and she pressed kisses into his hair before pulling away from him.

The second time was when he first met Max, and she hugged him, excited at getting a new big brother. It didn’t last long because he shoved her to the ground seconds after. Neil beat him for that.

The third and most recent time was when he woke up in the hospital for the first time after Starcourt. His entire body ached, and he couldn’t speak because of the tube down his throat, but he could see and recognize people. And Max was there, face blotchy and as red as her hair. She hugged him, and then punched him for dying, and then hugged him again, and then started crying. He didn’t shove her off that time.

But this. Time four. It beats out all of those moments. Steve smells like wood and chocolate, and his body’s warm and firm, and Billy has never felt so comforted. So safe. So needed in all his life. 

“Thank you, Billy. Really thank you,” Steve mumbles.

“No problem, man. It’s nothing,” Billy says rubbing his hand down Steve’s back. 

They stay like that for a minute, just two boys who can’t seem to sleep at night holding each other. It’s beautiful.

After a moment, Steve pulls back. Enough that coldness fills the spot where he once was, but still close enough that Billy can smell the chocolate on his breath. He wonders if Steve would let him taste it one day.

“Sorry about that,” Steve blushes. “This day always makes me a little weird.”

“It’s cool. I don’t mind.” Billy shrugs with a smile.

Steve fixes him with that watchful look again, and Billy can’t take it anymore. Has to know what it means. “Why d’you keep looking at me like that?”

Steve hesitates before speaking. “I can’t figure you out, Hargrove. Before, I knew who you were, and who you weren’t. Watched you all the time: in practice, in class, when I came to pick up Max. But now. After everything. I can’t figure it out. There’s something...changed about you. Sometimes I think the old you is still in there. But then you do things like second Christmas, or following Max around like a puppy because you know it’s what she needs right now.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Billy asks, slowly. “Change is good.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, assuredly. “Change is good. I like who you are now. It’s just sometimes it feels like I’m waiting for the old you to pop back up again. I think part of me wants it to.”

“I’m trying to be good,” Billy starts. “I’m trying to be better.” 

“You are good. You are better. I just. Miss some of the old you. Wish I could have both parts of you, y’know. The part that cares for his sister more than he lets on but also the part that will knock me on my ass for not planting my feet.” He pauses, locking eyes with Billy. “The one who used to call me pretty boy.” 

And that’s a declaration, right? Please be a declaration. Because Billy’s not the best with explaining his feelings. But declarations, yeah, he can handle this.

“Pretty boy, huh? You like it when I call you that?”

Steve nods, lips parting, “Made me feel good about myself.”

“Yeah? Okay. I can do that Steve Harrington.” He steps closer, pulling Steve against him. “Yeah, I can do that for you, Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, my pretty boy.”

Steve’s eyes go dark, and he leans down, chocolate breath passing over Billy’s. And Billy wants. Wants it so badly. A whine escapes his mouth. He leans up, about to finally do what he’s been waiting for for so long when the front door slams open, and Dustin’s voice rings out across the house.

They step back. 

“I know he’s your favorite, but I’m gonna’ kill that kid and his stupid hair spray,” Billy mutters.

Steve rolls his eyes, with a laugh.

Dustin’s voice rings out again, this time closer.

“You said this helps you sleep, right?” Steve asks, grabbing the lavender.

“Yeah, most nights.”

Steve nods, thinking. “And what if it doesn’t work tonight? You gonna be there to help me go back to sleep?”

And there’s an attempt at a seductive smirk on his face, but all Billy can see is the hint of vulnerability shining through. 

“Yeah, pretty boy. I’ll be right there with you.”

Steve looks up, finally smiling at him in that bright way of his, and it lights up his face. There’s snow flurries outside the window. Remnants of hot chocolate on Steve’s lips. And Billy. Billy can see the sun shining in his eyes