I Hope Im Not Just A Mutual To You But Also A “why The Fuck Am I Following This Guy Again”

YES he is a MASSIVE BITCH but hes also BISEXUAL and a PUNCHING BAG and ALMOST DIES AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK. AND hes my little meow meow.

---

Twin sized mattress - the front bottoms

Steve’s parents move back home, and Steve can no longer handle it. So, he leaves. Leaves Hawkins for good.

••••••

Two things Steve was certain were not there when he left for work: the random car in his driveway and the disappearance of his spare key. What Steve was not certain of: whose car it was and who the hell would break in in plain sight.

Warily, Steve walks up the front stairs of the somewhat home he had made for himself, reaching for the baseball bat he kept in the front doorway and tucking it behind his back. He doesn’t bother to kick off his shoes, just closes the door extra quiet and tiptoes his way around, looking left and right and behind himself.

His heart was in the back of his throat, hands shaking slightly at the sudden thought that today could be his last day on earth. Sure, he had faced worse, but someone breaking in was up there on his list of fears. Especially with what Hawkins was becoming.

Voices coming from the dining room alerts him and sends his heart racing painfully harsh against his rib cage. “Fuck.” Mutters Steve, sucking in a deep breath and shaking out his limbs. “Fuck.”

The voices were somewhat familiar, people Steve had not heard from in almost a fucking year. People Steve wished he would never have to see for the rest of his life.

Chucking the bat off to the side, Steve kicks off his shoes and enters the dining area with a heavy heart and slouched shoulders. His parents are seated at the table, drinking cups of hot coffee and wearing clothes Steve had never seen in any stores around Hawkins. “Mother, father.” Steve greets, clearing his throat and forcing a smile onto his lips. “Long time no see.”

Both pairs of eyes catch his own and Steve almost faints right then and there. Their gazes are cold, mean and angry, Steve’s highest insecurities on the tips of their tongues. “Steven.” Replies his mother, not even pulling on a smile at the sight of her son. “Stop slouching, it’s for low end people, and you aren’t one of those now are you?”

Steve doesn’t argue. He wouldn’t win anyway. Brings his shoulders back, standing tall and mighty. “Sorry.”

“What are you wearing?” His father snaps, and Steve flinches. “It’s.. disgusting.”

“It’s my uniform.” Whispers Steve. “For family video.”

They both grimace. “And your hair, what the hell.” Harsh hands pull through his soft locks, sending an ache across his scalp. “Why is it so long.. you look like a fucking girl.”

Steve flinches. “I.. I like it long.” He mumbles. “I didn’t think it looked girly.”

He can’t help but rub anxiously at his arm, bowing his head to not have to look into the eyes of his disappointed parents. For almost an entire year, Steve had been free of their judgement. Steve had been free to do whatever he please, to wear whatever he liked and eat whatever he wanted. He had been free. And almost like a disease, Steve felt intoxicated with guilt and fear.

All his life, Steve had thought that that was how kids were supposed to feel around their parents. Fear and resentment. But fuck was he wrong. Now that he had become the kids honorary babysitter, he spent a lot of time at their homes and around their parents, the amount of love and care making Steve feel.. strange.

Joyce Byers always welcomed him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, as did Mrs Henderson and Mrs Buckley. They treated their kids with kindness and respect and understandable discipline when needed, and even that was still soft and gentle. Steve had expected yelling and screaming, slaps across the face or anything that would make him have to jump in front to save the kids from any sense of danger, but he was wrong.

So standing here, across from his parents, Steve felt abnormal. For the way they were speaking to him, acting around him, were not normal. He should not be afraid of them in the way that he is.

“I’m sorry, Steven, but this is the last straw.” His fathers distant voice states. “I can’t take your behaviour any longer.”

Steve’s head snaps up in high alert, hands shaking and heart pounding. “What?” He asks, lips quivering with fright. “What do you mean?”

Shaking his head, Steve’s father scoffs out a hurtful laugh, one that could only mean one thing. Steve starts to back away, starts looking for an easy exit if things grew bad. “Look at you. You look like a fucking girl and I’m sick of you trying to destroy the family name.”

The words hurt like a dagger to the heart. It makes Steve press his lips together, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek.

“We’ve heard about everything you’ve been doing. Dressing like a girl, going around and fucking men. I did not raise a fucking faggot.”

Steve takes in staggering breaths, backing himself up against the wall as his father draws closer. The fear in his gut was eating away at him, was making his skin crawl with anxiety. A hand slams against his cheek, and tears well in Steve’s eyes immediately. He doesn’t dare make a sound, stifling his sobs by a hand over his mouth.

“Now all of this, your hair, your actions and the way you choose to live is the last straw.” Stated his mother, whom he had forgotten was even there. “It’s no big surprise you turned out this way. We gave you too much freedom. That freedom is now over.”

Steve shakes his head, his entire body trembling with the overwhelming fear of what that entailed. “No.. no.. please, I’m sorry.. I’ll.. I’ll do anything, I- I swear. Please. PLEASE!”

Steve can’t remember anything after that. Just that he woke up on the floor with a bruised eye. It’s not that his father had attacked him, his head had seemed to whack against the wall and he was already prone enough to concussions, but the punch in the eye had not helped.

After waking up, his mother had forced him to get dressed into clothes that she had chosen specifically and dragged him into the car. Drove him all the way out of town to her hair salon to get his hair cut.

Having to sit in that chair made Steve have a panic attack. Made him have to run and hide in the bathrooms to try and calm himself down. He no longer looked like himself. Looked like a masculine, jackass who didn’t give too shits what he looked like.

Of course his mother loved it. Kissed his cheek and gushed about how “now that we’re back, you can finally get your life together”.

But when he shows up to work the next day, a fresh bruise on his face and the horrible new haircut, Robin looks absolutely fucking horrified. “What the fuck.” She says as soon as he walks through the doors, the first time in weeks not having picked her up due to him requesting to start slightly later than usual. “What the fuck.”

Steve doesn’t say a word, drops his shit out back and puts on his name tag, all the while ignoring Robin’s fussing, chasing after him like a bad smell. And when he finally comes to a stop, Robin grabs him by the face and inspects his face with pure concern written across her own, biting her lower lip. “What the fuck happened to you?” Whispers Robin, voice shaking.

“It’s nothing.” Steve mutters, pulling her hands away gently and forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Dude, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look fucking terrible.” Robin tries to reach out again, but Steve stops her quickly with a wince. “Ha! You winced, you’re not fine.”

Steve sighs. “Rob, please. I’m okay. I promise.”

Rolling her eyes, Robin paces around the counter. “If you were okay, you wouldn’t have winced. Did I hurt you in some way? Shove you too hard the other day at work? Did you get attacked? Jumped?”

Dragging his hands down his face at her panicked rambling, Steve gives into defeat. “My parents are back in town.” He says, swallowing the lump in his throat. “For good.”

“What?”

There’s disbelief hidden in Robin’s words, her eyes widening and body coming to a stop.

“They know about how I’ve been dressing and that I’ve hooked up with.. with guys.” Steve whispers the last part, still wary at the thought of any customers overhearing. “Said my hair made me look like a girl and said they were sick of my behaviour so they’re back. Mum made me get a haircut.”

“And the bruise?” Questions Robin.

Steve bows his head “My dad.”

Robin’s breath catches. “Steve..”

“Please, don’t do that.” Steve begs quietly. “Don’t. I’m okay. I’m used to it. It’s whatever.”

“Do.. do they know about you and..”

Steve shakes his head. “That’s the one thing they don’t know.”

Robin places a hand onto Steve’s shoulder, now back at his side, head resting overtop. “Does he know?”

Steve shakes his head once more.

“Steve.. you have to tell him.”

“I can’t.” Steve’s voice breaks painfully.

“He’ll understand. You know he will.”

Sighing, Steve nods slowly. “I know I just.. I don’t want him to know about my family life. Everything is perfect between us. I don’t want to ruin that.”

No matter what Robin says, it’s no use. Steve wouldn’t believe her. Steve wouldn’t budge from his point of view. What happened to him was between the two of them. No one else needed to know.

••••

The next time Steve arrives at his house, the red hair that belonged to his younger sister appears behind the door before Steve can put on a fake smile, his heart easing just the slightest. “Hey,” greets max, the beginning of a smile appearing on her lips, before it vanishes in an instant at one look at Steve’s face. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Assures Steve, pulling on a smile. “I’m okay. Is Billy still here?”

Max doesn’t have time to respond before Billy appears beside her at the door, his own grin falling from his lips as he takes in the other males appearance. “Steve-“

“I’m gonna go.” Max cuts in, tucking her skateboard under her arm and disappearing off down the street in a flash.

“Billy-“ Steve tries, but Billy cuts him off, his hands cupping Steve’s cheeks with the utmost care in the world.

Billy inspects the bruise, hands almost shaking with the absolute purest anger flowing through his veins. And after a brief pause, Steve’s heart skips a nervous beat as Billy looks him dead in the eyes. His voice is quiet and tense, his anger barely restrained.

"Who did this to you?"

Steve shivers, anxiety crawling all over his skin. "I-it was no one-" he tries, but it doesn't work. Billy sees right through his lies and it only makes Billy’s eyes harden. “It doesn’t matter-“

Billy doesn’t let up. “Of course it fucking matters. You’re hurt. Now tell me who did this.”

Steve bites his lip, then, like a switch flicked inside of him, he began sobbing, cupping a hand over his mouth.

Billy frowns sympathetically, eyes now soft, and gathers Steve into his arms, rocking him side to side. "Steve, I’m sorry for raising my voice, are.. are you okay?” He whispers, combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, Steve gripping tightly at his tank top. "I'm going to deal with this. Your gonna be okay."

Steve whimpers, pressing his sore face further into Billy’s shoulder, holding onto his boyfriend for dear life, sobbing and sobbing, body shaking at the force of them. "They.. they came out of nowhere. No call or letter. Nothing." Steve stammers, voice hoarse. "And wouldn't.. wouldn't stop.. they wouldn't stop."

His sobs become harsher and Billy can only hold him through it, resting his chin atop his head. "Who?" Billy urges softly. "Who wouldn't stop?"

Steve can barely get the words out. "My.. my parents.."

Billy stiffens, hands coming to a stop in Steve’s hair. His parents did thus? Billy thinks to himself, eyes hardening once again. I'll kill those sons of bitches!

Almost as though he could read Billy’s mind, Steve breaks away from the hug, shaking his head. "You- you cant do anything." He tells him. "Please, you can't."

Billy goes to protest, but the look of fear in Steve’s eyes makes him stop. Billy sighs. "Okay. Okay I won't. I promise. Just.. just tell me what happened.”

Steve tells Billy everything. From coming home from work to find the front door unlocked and a random car in his driveway, to the constant nitpicking and godawful fight, all the while keeping on a strong facade as he sits across from Billy on his bed, hands shaking. They fidget with the blankets, eyes unwilling to lock with Billy’s, far too fearful to take in just how much anger and fury was flowing through his boyfriends veins.

For Steve knew how Billy could get. Yes, he had changed and was a much kinder individual now, that did not mean he did not still have his outbursts of anger. That did not mean he didn’t stop himself from keeping Steve safe in whatever way possible.

“I’m gonna kill them.” Steve hears Billy mutter into the silence, suddenly standing and pacing the room, hands raking through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down.

Finally looking up, Steve climbs to his shaking legs and reaches out to cup Billy’s cheeks, and only then does Billy stop his pacing. Only then does Billy refocus back on Steve and what Steve needed. “Hey.” Whispers Steve, resting their foreheads together and taking hold of Billy’s hands. “I’m okay.. I’m okay. I promise. There’s no need to go on a killing spree for a small bruise.”

Billy barely chuckles at the attempt at a joke, pressing a kiss against Steve’s temple and thumbing gently at the bruise over his eye. “You know id do anything for you-“

“I know.” Steve smiles, pulling away enough to have their eyes lock. “But I’m okay, really. I promise. I just.. want to spend time with you while I can.”

“Okay.” Nods Billy. “Okay.. what did you have in mind?”

Shifting nervously on his feet, Steve bows his head. “Hold me..?”

Steve can hear the smile on Billy’s lips as he chuckles, lifting the other male into his arms and making him squeak, tucking Steve against his chest as they lay down on the ever so soft bed, legs intertwined. “I’m just gonna put this out there. You come over with other bruise and I’m saying something.”

Steve sighs. “Okay.”

Thankfully, the next few times the couple hang out, Steve has no injuries. Nothing to make Billy go manic and do something he most definitely won’t regret. However, unbeknownst to Steve’s spinning mind, Billy has picked up on Steve’s change in mood.

He wasn’t eating. Just picking at whatever food was in front of him before pushing his plate away and stating that he was no longer hungry. He had lost weight. Too much to be healthy. Any ounce of muscle that was once on his body now gone and turned into skin and bone.

He was always shaking. Always on edge. Jumping at any loud noise, flinching at the raise of anyones voice. Every little thing was setting Steve off. And fuck, did it hurt to watch the one person Billy loves act in such a strange way. To be so scared, to be so close to tears and so so fucking skinny. Billy couldn’t handle it. He just couldn’t.

All he wanted to know was what was going on in Steve’s mind.

“Are you really going to eat that?” The voice of Steve’s mother says suddenly, now standing across from him, the bench the only thing between them. “Doesn’t seem like the best choice, does it?”

Freezing, Steve lowers the cookie from where it was pressed to his lips, dropping it back into the container and running his hand through his hair. “I’ll just.. have something else.”

His mother nods, but her eyes refused to leave his wandering figure. Steve could feel the anxiety flowing through his veins, could feel his heart raging in his ears. “Didnt you already eat something?” His mother speaks again, now directly in front of Steve and hiding his view of the fridge. “I don’t think you need to be eating again.”

“Oh.” Steve’s face falls, trying to ignore the growling of his stomach. “Right. Um. Okay..”

Steve had ran up to his room and sobbed himself to sleep that night.

“That shirt is unflattering, Steven. Go change.”

His favourite shirt.

“Honey, I think you might be getting a bit.. fat. I think I’m going to have to put a lock on the pantry.”

His mother had insisted that she was joking, but Steve couldn’t seem to shake the comment off. He basically stopped eating all together at home, and it was becoming a bad habit around those he loved most. He sometimes even flat out refused to eat in front of them. Including Billy.

None of his clothes fit like they used to. They were all baggy and loose and looked horrible.

Everything that was beginning to make that house feel like a home to him was gone. It was no longer a safe haven for him. It was a prison. And Steve needed to get out. He had to. He just had to.

••••••

Knocks sound erratically from the front door, Steve’s figure pacing in between each attempt of his fist banging on Billy’s front door. His car was parked messily on the street, his lights still on and key still in. Anxiety was running through his veins, was making his hands shake and the tears to keep rolling down his cheeks.

It was a last minute decision. But Steve knew it was the right one. He couldn’t take his parents shit anymore and here he was, covered in fresh blood and bruises, waiting to explain to the one person he loves that he was leaving.

The door opens suddenly, and Miss Mayfield appears, stopping in shock at the sight of the young male before her. “Steve?” She says, face falling. “Honey, are you okay?”

Wiping the tears from his cheeks erratically, Steve forces a smile, lips quivering. “Hi Miss Mayfield. Is uh.. is Billy home?”

She turns and calls out the other males name, before stepping into Steve’s space and inspecting the wounds with a horror-full expression on her face. “Steve.. sweetie, what happened?”

“Uh.. nothing.. nothing. I’m okay. I promise. I’m going to be okay. I just..” pausing, Steve runs a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky sigh. “I just really need to talk to Billy.”

“Okay. Okay.. I’ll.. I’ll go find him and bring him out to you.”

Miss Mayfield disappears in a flash into the house, and Steve can hear her voice calling out for Billy, voice getting louder and more frantic with each call. And Steve, Steve couldn’t stop pacing. Couldn’t stop moving. The amount of fear and anxiety in his gut was abnormal.

“Steve?” The familiar voice of Billy says suddenly, the door falling closed and his boyfriends figure enclosing into his space.

Steve looks over at him, unable to keep his sobs at bay at the expression on Billys face.

“Steve, are- are you okay? Oh my god, you- your bleeding!” Billy’s cupping his face then, trying to find where the bleeding had started, only for Steve to shake his head and pull his hands away.

“No.. im.. im not okay, but- I but I will be.” Whispers Steve, smiling all wobbly. “Im sorry.. im.. im leaving Hawkins. Tonight.”

Immediately, Billys face falls. And fuck did it make Steve’s heart ache. “What?”

Cupping his hands to Billys cheeks, Steve caresses the golden skin with shaky thumbs. “I can’t take my parents anymore. I can’t live like this, Bill. I need.. I need to get away.”

“No, please, please.” Billy says, shaking his head and trying to stop his own tears from falling. “You can’t be leaving.. you can’t.. I.. I need you here..”

“I know, I know.” Steve says, so fucking soft and so fucking broken. “But I have to go, Billy. I can’t live like this anymore. I need to be free.”

“Let me go with you.” Billy is begging now, holding Steve’s face in his hands, desperate to do anything to make Steve agree. “We can go together-“

But Steve cuts him off. Because Steve couldn’t let Billy leave his family. Not when things were finally going good for him here in Hawkins. Steve would never forgive himself if he allowed Billy to come with him. “I have to do this alone.. okay? You have a family here that loves you. I can’t take you away from that.”

Lower lip wobbling, fresh tears in his eyes, Billy lets his head from forward slightly, biting the inside of his cheek. “Please, Steve. Please. Stay.”

“Hey, Billy. I love you, but no fucking way.” Steve says, voice breaking with the utmost intensity.

No matter how badly it hurt him, Billy knew Steve had to go. He knew that Steve needed this. “I promise, I will come and find you.” Whispers Billy, pressing the softest of kisses to Steve’s forehead. “You- you have my word. I love you. So fucking much. And if.. If you need to do this, you should. I will come and find you.”

Steve smiles. “I know you will.”

Flicking their eyes between each other’s lips and gazes, they crash their lips together in a kiss, hands cupping each other’s faces so sweetly, yet so harshly, neither of them want to pull away. For that meant goodbye. And neither of them were fully ready to say goodbye.

“I love you.” Steve breathes between their lips, kissing Billy’s once, twice, three times more before pulling away. “I love you. I’ll call you as soon as I find a place to go to. I promise.”

“You better.” Billy says, finally allowing himself to cry, lips quivering and hands shaking against Steve’s face. “I love you, Steve.”

“We’ll be together soon.” Steve promises, kissing billys cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Bill. I love you.”

“I love you too. Please.. be safe.”

Steve nods. “I will. You have my word.”

And just like that, with one last hug and kiss, Steve was gone. He really, truly was gone. And in that moment, Billy cannot stop himself from dropping to his knees and sobbing into his hands, his entire body shaking with emotion.

---

The bus always drops Billy off exactly a block from home. They took his car when he failed a vision test from his chronic migraines, so there isn’t much of a choice. Which is fair. He really doesn’t want to drive anyways after his accident. But, the bus isn’t always on time.

He’d been visiting Max at the hospital to play catch up before the new year. There’s always a good excuse to go visit her, but today especially. There’s fireworks going off like crazy from all the drunk hicks celebrating the passing of another year. Fireworks that terrify Max because she can’t even see them, after losing her vision in the battle for her life.

He’s lucky he got out of the hospital earlier that night because Max requested an extra strong dose of her meds to drown out the sound of the fireworks.

Unfortunately, there’s too many of those same drunks to cart around that the bus hadn’t made its way to the hospital until an hour after it was supposed to pick him up. He’d meant to be home by 9, but it’s already after 10.

Even on his eventual walk home from the bus stop, drawn out by his limp and his cane, the sky is full of smoke and colors. And noise. Lots and lots of irritating, terrifying noise.

Billy walks the last stretch faster than he should. He’s eager to get home to Steve for their first new year together anyhow. He’ll blame it on that instead of the lick of fear in his stride from the booming.

Right away as he shoulders the door open on his good side, the one not leaning on a cane, he calls out into the house, expecting Steve to be right there since he’s running a little late, “Baby?”

But there’s no answer. That’s not so unusual. They’re usually in bed by now anyways, aged at least three decades by the events of two summers ago and basically every day since. He’ll just hang up his coat, kick off his stretchy old man shoes, and try again.

“Steeeevie?”

Still nothing.

One too many times panicking from not knowing Steve’s exact location has taught him to calm down a little, and get his head on the right way before he starts tearing the place apart looking for him. Taking his time so as not to hurt himself in the process, Billy decides to go upstairs and check before he makes the ruling that Steve’s MIA. For his sanity.

He finds his boyfriend disguised as a pile of blankets on their bed, and he almost misses him because the lights are all out.

Right.

Fireworks are pretty rough for Steve too. Nothing brings more sensory overload than colorful death bombs in the sky. Billy sighs. He hates this town and the constant cacophony of fear it brings. Can’t they ever have a moment of peace?

He climbs into bed next to Steve, announcing his presence with a clearing of his throat before he plops down next to the curled up figure under the comforter.

“What’re you doing in here?”

The quiet response from Steve comes out barely audible, “Hiding.”

Yeah. Billy kinda wishes he could hide from a lot of things too. But right now, this is not about him,

“What from?”

The blankets rustle and a small mumbled response comes, “Loud.”

Just to be sure, and so Steve doesn’t have to do as much talking, Billy clarifies, “The fireworks are too loud?”

Again, there’s a shifting sound of Steve’s hair against the sheets, as he nods gently.

Billy wants to hold him. He’d like to strike down every last motherfucker that made Steve feel like this too. He can settle for lifting up the blanket and sliding under it with Steve, and talking gently to try and soothe him.

“I think so too. They uh.. remind me of..”

His voice breaks off from the quiet whisper into just nothing. Even now, even trying to be strong for Steve, there are some things that are too hard to talk about.

Steve’s face goes scrunched up with sympathy. Like he’s trying hard on purpose to feel bad for Billy, though that’s not really how it goes in his head. He even apologizes, though that isn’t what Billy wanted at all, “I’m sorry.”

Instantly, Billy rushes to reassure him, “Stevie, you didn’t-“

But it doesn’t change what Steve was already determined to tell him. They don’t talk a lot about the serious things. About how they’re both disabled now, and certainly both jam-packed with more trauma than the sky is packed with lights tonight. Maybe they should, so Steve won’t sound as guilty as he speaks,

“I’m sorry I’ve always been like this and you were made into this.”

That makes Billy pause. He has to catch his breath and then turn on his side to look at Steve’s face, centering on his nose so accidental eye-contact won’t happen.

No way is he letting Steve blame himself for this, any of this.

“That’s not true. I hated fireworks before too. We’d watch them on the beach, and I’d get scared because the water looked like it was on fire.”

Just from that tidbit, Steve tears up. Billy tears up. They both know what part of the story is coming next, and suddenly Billy remembers that he told this story before and simply forgot, but it’s too late to stop now.

“Momma held me and told me that it wasn’t real, but.. after momma left.. I was always afraid of irrational shit like that. Still am. Just today I was scared the hospital would burn up from the fireworks if I left Max there. Or I’d choke on the smoke on my way home. And then I got back and I couldn’t find you and I just-“

Yeah. Steve gets it. They’re both trying their damndest, even when another pop sounds in the near distance, and Steve presses his headphones a little closer to his ears.

The not quite silence speaks more volumes than their words. Steve spreads his arm out, and makes a soft little humming sound. An invitation for Billy to come close and wrap his arms around Steve. They need each other right now.

Billy dives into the offered cuddle. He’s been waiting for this moment all day. The moment where he could just sob into Steve’s chest, and feel Steve’s own tears wetting his hair. Sometimes, this is what it takes.

Laying in bed and purging out all their bad emotions isn’t exactly the ideal way for two ex-King’s like them to spend their New Year’s Eve, but it’s how they’re going to, and neither would ask for any other way to move into another year. They fought hard to be able to do that.

Nobody can take that away.

They don’t talk again until Steve is ready. With all the noise and chaos, Billy doesn’t mind the silence, just listening to Steve’s steady, unsteady, one-two-skip, heartbeat. He hears Steve’s words rattle up in his chest as he speaks them, “Fireworks are stupid.”

That makes Billy crack a smile. They both know all this crying isn’t about the fireworks. Not that it helps, but that’s not the point.

Maybe fireworks will be the spark that lit the fire. From now on, it’s about opening up a little more.

“Yeah. What’s so great about all that toxic shit in the air anyways?” Billy meant that in more ways than one, but whether or not Steve got the double meaning about all that glory covering up the ugly truth, isn’t what he focuses on.

Steve lingers on the idea of the bad air, and Billy’s asthmatic lungs, and lets the worry come back, “I didn’t even think about that. You okay?”

Billy nods against Steve’s chest, and pulls back a little so his head is resting by his arm instead, and they’re face to face now, “I’m just fine.”

It’s such an automatic answer, Steve catches it too. Satisfied that he noticed, he points out, “You sound just like Max.”

He does. It feels like it’s already been an eternity since he got back in Steve’s arms. He forgot that today was the same day he visited Max. His memories get mixed up like that sometimes.

The silence after Steve’s little teasing must eat away at Billy’s mask, because Steve makes a small sound of worry, like a gruff sniffle, and asks, “Was she okay?”

Trying hard to remember today’s visit over yesterday's or the day before's or nine months before that’s, Billy gives details by the moment he remembers them, “Still tired. But alright. Got her to smile.”

“Did you tell her-“ Every single day Steve asks the same questions. He cares so much about doing the right thing.

Seeing him now, all curled up in bed and sad on a day that’s a celebration for everybody else, makes Billy even more sure that he’s going to do the right thing as well. Right now, that’s reassurance,

“Yep, I said ‘hi from Steve.’ And I made sure to tell her you miss her. All the usual.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come.” Steve went once, and that was all it took for the constant beeping, rushing, wheeling, to trigger a meltdown. Never again.

But Billy’s alright with that, and Max was too the last time they talked, “Baby, we’ve told you. It’s fine. I can barely get my ass on the bus either.”

Steve doesn’t look like he believes him. His eyes are wide and teary again. His nails scratch at his palms, so Billy gently takes his hands and keeps them separated.

“Promise?”

Billy kisses Steve’s knuckles on each hand, soft and barely able to be felt as a graze across warm flesh. He’s going to do anything to make Steve stop worrying about the harder things they’ve been through a few times now.

“I promise.”

Billy reaches out slowly, ever so slowly so Steve has time to assert his boundaries before Billy's hand makes contact with his face. Instead of stopping him though, Steve blinks slowly and closes his eyes, and allows Billy to gently hold his cheek. His skin is flushed warm, despite it being so cold out. He’s the softest thing Billy’s ever had the privilege to hold.

Next he wants to taste. The angle they’re at is awkward and it hurts Billy’s back. He taps Steve’s cheek as a silent way of asking him to be the one to initiate their kiss and fix their tangle of limbs. Steve obliges, without opening his eyes, shifting off of his hip so his chest is against Billy’s now, and their faces are just inches apart.

Billy isn’t even sure which of them actually closes the gap, but in the next moment he’s kissing Steve slowly and carefully like either of them could break at any second.

In the next moment, Steve does break, only in that he separates the kiss.

“Wait a sec.”

Billy’s eyes are half open, his face warmed by the love he felt from the kiss, which left him too lax and calm to be worried about Steve’s interruption, “Hm?”

Not for no reason. Steve’s panic looks a lot different from his lightbulb ideas, and right now, Billy can tell before Steve even speaks it’s going to be the latter. One of his good ideas.

“We have to save up our kisses for midnight.”

Not exactly the most thrilling idea ever. Billy instinctually scrunches his nose as an expression of doubt, but Steve’s eyes are still shining with his own brilliance.

“I don’t know, babe..”

“It’s good luck!” Steve swears it like it’s a revelation, and he’s just cured all that ails Billy.

Seeing him that happy, instead of shaking and hiding from the overstimulation like earlier, Billy could say that Steve’s just about done that for real.

Billy plays his role as the skeptic though, pouting over-exaggeratedly so Steve knows he’s not serious, “Didn’t know that meant we had to wait.”

It earns a laugh, more akin to a delighted giggle, out of Steve, who decides on a compromise for their imaginary plight, “You can have one kiss on the cheek for now.”

He leans over and just barely pecks his cheek, soft lips ghosting over Billy’s skin and making him shiver with the feeling of goose pimples popping up on his neck. The small kiss transforms with the shape of Steve’s smile from Billy's reaction, and then Steve gives him another, slightly stronger, press of his lips.

“Thank you, Stevie.” Billy makes doubly-sure Steve knows he’s not really as pouty as he was playing to be. Really, any affection from Steve makes his entire day better, after months where they weren’t able to have these moments between doctors visits and monster battles. The peace of just being in one another’s arms, finally safe from all of that, is enough. “Love you.”

Declarations of love always give Steve a reason to show his happy hands. He taps the tips of his fingers in a rhythm against Billy’s collar bone, and returns the declaration in a silly, stimmy voice, “I love you too.”

Their bliss is interrupted by another thundering firework outside. A distressed squeak cuts off Steve’s words, and he buries his face into Billy’s form, hiding along the contour of his arm, with his face pressed against Billy’s ribcage, so he’s as close to Billy as possible, and as far away from the threat.

It’s not really a comfortable position, but if it keeps Steve feeling safe, Billy can live with a dead arm for a while.

“I got you, Steve. Those fireworks aren’t gonna get us, babe.”

“Too loud.” Steve repeats his sentiment from earlier. That’s a nice affirmation that this is all rational. They’ve both had their share of fear driven breaks, which are much harder to solve.

Since this one’s the kind that doesn’t scare Billy, he keeps joking with Steve to keep him from slipping into that worse place.

“Want me to sing for you? Drown it all out?” He questions, knowing full well he can’t hold a tune worth a damn.

“Please no.” Steve’s so polite about telling Billy what he already knew. It’s really sweet actually.

Billy chuckles lightly, suppressing his laugh so he doesn’t jostle Steve too much, “I hear you. We’ll just be nice and quiet then.”

After so long like that, without any more booming interruptions from outside of their safe spot, Billy’s eyes start to get heavy. He caught Steve the same way, blinking extra hard so his eyelashes danced over Billy’s skin, and so his eyes wouldn’t shut without him.

Normally he’d just let him sleep, and he considers it for a moment, but it’s the celebration of the new year, and Steve would be devastated if they missed the midnight kiss.

Billy realizes they’ve been laying here for so long, he doesn’t even know what time it is, “I’m gonna peek out of the blanket. Check the time.”

Steve doesn’t waste energy on responding beyond a simple nod.

Billy uses his free hand that isn’t under Steve to pull the heavy comforter back down to let the real world back in. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the room again, and then he squints at the clock to see how close they are to the moment.

“Oh shit. It’s 11:56. Only 4 minutes left.” He announces, and Steve pops up beside him from under the blanket eagerly, every bit of tiredness gone from his face and replaced with glowing excitement.

“Are we gonna count them down?”

Billy smiles and shrugs as much as he can with Steve’s weight still on his one arm, “Don’t see why not.”

They count the minutes down together quietly. That’s too long to do it out loud and wear Steve out before it’s even time. Their way of doing that consists of Billy laying still and letting Steve tap out each passing second against the scar in the center of his chest.

When they finally reach an achievable countdown, Billy starts with, “10.”

“9.” Steve takes the next, and they do it in alternating order, although from the way Steve is vibrating with excitement, he’d probably rather skip this step altogether

Still, Steve is so loving with him, even when Billy feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

“8.”

Billy would hold him through anything it took to make Steve feel safe expressing that kind of love.

“7.”

They fought so hard to be this comfortable. Last year, Billy was still in a coma, and Steve was still too scared to even touch him to hold hands.

“6.”

Their first kiss was two months after they started dating, leaning around stitches and big emotions to both finally feel like everything was in place.

“5.”

Someday, they’ll be totally in sync and know when those hard times have passed, but right now it’s a loving, tender work in progress.

“4.”

And maybe someday, they’ll get out of Hawkins, and far away from all the chaos here.

“3.”

Billy gets stronger every day, mentally and physically. Steve gets more in tune with his own needs and self-worth. That’s what a support system and a whole lotta care will do for a couple of guys like them.

“2.”

Most importantly, they’re getting better all the time at communicating, building up the foundations of their relationship.

“1!”

Steve initiates the kiss, grabbing both sides of Billy’s face and smashing their lips together rather than kissing him. It’s reminiscent of their first kiss, in all its clumsy, anxious glory. Billy thinks that’s a good momento to end the worst year of their lives with, and start into what will hopefully be the best.

“Looking forward to another year with you, baby.” He promises, when they break apart and finally get a breath.

Steve wears a delightful smile, “Here’s to another.. hm.. 100?”

That sounds nice. Just him and Steve for the rest of time, no matter how many years pass or how many painful explosions happen.

“Yeah. Cheers to that.”

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I’m free anytime, miss

•\\\\\\\•

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This fanart is the first of 3 or 4 that all belong to a little 4-Part Fanfic that I started to write a while ago! If you want to read the first part you can do that HERE! (Aaaand also a little reminder that the Pre-Order for VOL1 of my Comic is only up for a few more days now! So if you are interested, you can get the comic and other stuff HERE ! AND I also started a second Comic on Patreon, which is a S2 AU after the fight at the Byers soooo if you are interested in that one, you can click HERE!) Ok I am done with advertising now- I really hope you guys enjoy the fanart! ❤

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Everybody, sitting in the Byers' living room: *inaudible chatting* Joyce: Everyone! Shh! Everybody: *goes silent* Joyce: Right, now we all know why we're here, Everybody: (does in fact know why they're here) Joyce: Now- uh- *clears throat* two of you guys- I mean- I hope only two of you guys- have been engaging in...uh- how do I put this nicely- romantic- gestures? Everybody: *Turns to Eddie and Chrissy* Eddie: YOU GUYS DO REALIZE IT'S NOT ALWAYS US- Joyce: No- not- not- not sexual gestures- yknow- stuff like kissing-? A lot-? Steve: *goes bright red* Billy: *Only goes a little pink* Max: I think it's sort of obvious now. Just pick the tomatoes in the group. Joyce: *bites back a laugh* okay- you two need to- cut down on the noise- mainly uh- mainly Steve- heh- sorry Steve- Steve: I- I- I- I- N- NO -N- NOT- I- DOESN’T- NOT- ME- M- I- W- I- Argyle: I think Steve's malfunctioning, dude Billy: *puts a hand over Steve's mouth* Steve: *goes silent and doesn't do anything about it* Max: I bet he's way too used to it- Joyce: Max- Eddie: Oh- EW DUDE IS THAT WHY YOUR HANDS ALWAYS HAVE TEETH IMPRINTS ON THEM- Chrissy: Ed that isn't a necessary commen- Dustin: WAIT BILLY AND STEVE HAVE BEEN KISSING-?! Kids:*screaming in disgust* Billy: Please excuse us, Mrs. Byers *grins charmingly as he drags Steve out the door*

*Billy and Steve step outside and Billy shuts the door behind them* Everybody: *sitting in dead silence* *Steve wailing like a child from outside the door* Billy, in a muffled voice: Steve calm down- it's over just- sh- what if we get you ice-cream or something? Steve shut up for god's sake-

*This totally has nothing to do with an upcoming fic*

Dustin Henderson + food

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The main characters in the last show or movie you watched now have to deep-clean your house for you. How does that go?

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watching stranger things as a minority, especially if you are queer, neurodivergent and/or black, is literally the worst thing you can do.

yes it was the 80s. but WE aren't in the 80s, its a show about fucking demons and superpowers. using queer characters to uplift straight couples, killing off queer coded and neurodivergent coded characters for NOTHING and inflicting so much violence on black people out of nowhere is a terrible thing.

"oh but in the 80s there were these issues!" yes. but are the issues talked about? no. they're thrown in the show and basically never addressed correctly. its a fucking disgrace full of prejudice that aren't touched upon seriously.

basically the message is "if you're queer, neurodivergent and/or black, then you're supposed to sacrifice yourself for the ones above you (straight, neurotypical, white) so that they can grow ❤️"

fuck off duffer brothers. im tired of this shit.

#he’s a crowd favorite 💅🏻