Happy Holidays From Me To You, Lovely Reader 🤍☃️

Happy Holidays from me to you, lovely reader 🤍☃️

~

Billy says a tense, “Thanks, pops,” as Neil hands him a new pack of Marlboros on Christmas morning. He knows it’s only because of Susan and Max that he’s getting anything at all, but he still says his thanks through gritted teeth because manners have been beaten into him.

Susan gifts him a pair of wooly socks, a much needed staple for the frigid weather outside, and he thanks her quietly as he thumbs the fabric - and repeats it louder when Neil tells him to speak up.

Max doesn’t give him her present until after breakfast, which is a Black Sabbath tape to replace the one he’d accidentally ruined by pulling it out of his stereo too fast. He thanks her by ruffling her hair with a smirk, which makes her growl, “Billy!” as she smoothes her hair down. He leaves the newest issue of Wonder Woman on her bedside table when she’s busy with her mom.

The gifts are fine. The ‘quality family time’ makes him want to crawl out of his skin, though. So, once the afternoon rolls around, Billy’s gone.

His favourite gift out of them all is when Steve opens the front door of his big house and his pretty boy’s irritated expression melts away to glittering eyes and a warm, excited smile.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Billy murmurs with a grin, wishing to give his boy a kiss but his parents are home for once, so it’ll have to wait. Steve says nothing and pulls him into the house by the wrist.

He gives his polite greeting and a ‘Merry Christmas’ to the Harringtons as he steps inside, shedding his jacket and scarf at the door before Steve’s taking him upstairs, away from his busy parents.

Billy glances over his shoulder once they’re in Steve’s bedroom before pulling his boyfriend in by the waist, their lips meeting in a slow, deep kiss. It soothes Billy’s nerves better than anything.

“So,” Steve murmurs as he pulls away just far enough that Billy can see his smile, “Did you make the ‘nice’ list after all?”

“Fuck no,” Billy chuckles softly, his shoulders no longer up by his ears as Steve rubs up and down his biceps.

“I figured,” the brunette grins, pulling away from Billy’s embrace to grab a wrapped box by his bedside table, “Which is why I got you this.” He hums, looking proud of himself.

The wrapping paper is god awful and gaudy, but Billy opens it quietly and pulls the top of the box off to look inside.

It’s a new zippo lighter. Silver, with an engraved ‘B’ at the bottom left corner. Steve mumbles for him to look at the back, so he pulls it out and flips it over, reads the engraving there: ‘Yours, PB’.

Billy snorts softly, looking up at his boyfriend in amusement as he says, “Yours, Peanut Butter?”

Steve looks confused for half a second, brows furrowing, until he gets it and then he’s groaning and running a hand through his thick hair, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back towards the ceiling. After a moment, he mutters, “It stands for ‘pretty boy’.”

Billy starts laughing again, unable to help it, because Steve is so fucking cute and tragic and Billy loves every ounce of him. “C’mere,” he mutters with a grin, putting the zippo back into the box as Steve steps close. Wrapping his free arm around his boyfriend, Billy gives his lips a gentle peck, murmuring playfully, “Thank you, peanut butter, I love it.” He gives Steve another kiss, just for good measure, and a third because Steve’s pouting now and he’s too cute when he does that.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve finally cracks a smile, chuckling softly with a shake of his head, “Fuckin’ peanut butter.”

“Here,” Billy smiles as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope, handing it to Steve quietly.

It’s a small collection of polaroid pictures of them, taken by Chrissy during the summer at various locations. The quarry, parties, Steve’s pool, the mall, random parking lots. Billy’s favourite is in there: Steve’s hand on the gear shift of the Camaro, Billy’s hand on top and holding it as he drives. It’s a simple picture but the sun is hitting it just right and you can’t tell it’s them, it’s like a little secret. Chrissy had squished herself into the backseat just to get the picture and Billy’s grateful she did.

Steve’s expression is soft as he looks them over, smiling to himself as he recognizes the areas and recalls the day. There’s also a handwritten ‘IOU a BJ’ card at the bottom of the stack that Steve holds up, eyebrows lifted as he playfully asks, “Is this a one-time use?”

“No,” Billy smirks, “But I’ll be surprised if you manage to not lose it after one use.”

“Asshole,” Steve chuckles, slipping the pictures back into the envelope after taking another look. He leans in and Billy meets him halfway for another kiss, always eager for it.

Steve mumbles, “Thanks baby,” against his lips, pulling away with a warm smile, “I’m gonna put them with the rest,” he says as he pulls away to grab the shoebox under his bed, which is filled with other Billy-related items.

Steve’s mom, decked out in her nicest red dress, comes up the stairs and knocks on the door, giving the two boys a smile as Steve shoves the box under his bed again and stands, breathing, “Yeah?”

“The catering company will be here soon - are you staying for dinner, Billy?” She asks, flicking her dark eyes between them.

Christ. Of course the Harringtons didn’t cook for Christmas - they hired other people to.

Billy shakes his head slowly, “I’d hate to impose—”

“—Nonsense! We’re having multiple guests over, and I’m sure Steve will appreciate having company his own age,” she smiles, her mind already made up.

“Uh - in that case, sure,” he says with a tight smile and a nod, “Thanks, Mrs. H.”

She gives him another smile before looking to Steve, “Make sure you give Billy a nice shirt to wear tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, mom, I know.”

“Great, be down in half an hour,” she says with a nod and turns, heading back downstairs to probably sort out the rest of the evening.

“Fuck, I’ll never get over how stupidly rich you are,” Billy huffs in wry amusement, looking over at his boyfriend again, “And the fuck’s wrong with my shirt?”

Steve shrugs with a smile, “Nothing, in my opinion. My mom’s just…like that. Appearances mean a lot. Gotta wear your sunday best to the Harrington Christmas dinner, babe.”

“Christ - remind me to just kidnap you next year and we’ll go to a McDonald’s.”

Another soft smile appears on Steve’s face and he nods, wrapping his arm around Billy’s middle, kissing him quick and gentle as he mutters, “I’m holding you to that.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m gonna do it.”

“Mm. Love you.”

“Love you, too, peanut butter.”

Steve smacks his ass for that and Billy laughs, sitting down on the bed while his boyfriend goes to pick out a shirt for him.