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Its not always something sexual when it comes to Steve realising he’s got it bad for Billy Hargrove.
Sometimes, its something sweet that he does or happens between them that had that little voice in Steve’s mind saying okay, I think I’m really a goner for this guy.
Its just like all the other things he’s been noticing; it’s something small and benign that Steve pays no mind to at first, and now somehow can’t live without.
Now, he can’t sleep unless Billy is beside him.
It started back in Winter on New Year’s Eve.
Usually, his parents come home for the holidays. It’s his mother’s favourite time of the year and she fills the house will decorations from all of their travels, cooks all the recipes she’s learned and plays all of the Christmas records she owns. His father usually gets sentimental around this time and tucks more presents than Steve ever needs under the tree to make up for their combined absence in his life every other day of the year. He sits nursing a glass of his good, Italian wine, flicks through the channels on the TV and smiles stiffly at Steve whenever he goes past.
Its not that he doesn’t get along with his parents. Its just that he’s gotten so used to them being away and leaving him in the big house with the big pool for the majority of the year. He’s gotten used to just talking to them over the phone where he can’t see their faces and doesn’t need to think about eye contact. He’s just gotten used to them not being around so much that its now awkward in the peak teenage time of his life to try and be in the same room as them. He’s done a lot of growing up at this time in his life, interests change, colleges and careers are now a thing and he doesn’t feel like his parents know who he is at all.
So, he doesn’t really blame them when they called at the start of the month to tell him they would be staying in Italy through the holidays and that they were sure he wouldn’t miss them with all the parties he could throw and friends he could see.
Christmas day, he wound up spending at Dustin’s house, enjoying a delicious meal with him and his Mom and spending the night watching old movies on the TV and stuffing himself with more food than he had any business to eat. It had been nice.
New Year’s Eve, the Byers decided to throw a party.
Everyone was there; the whole gang, Hopper, El, Max and even Billy to Steve’s bewilderment, whom he thought would rather be out partying with the rest of their high school peers.
Since their fight a little over a year ago, Billy had slowly made amends and he and Steve had found out they actually liked spending time together. Now, the was pretty much friends and he was considered part of the gang.
The party had been fun. Joyce and Nancy had prepared the food which was a little overcooked and he’s not quite sure how Joyce makes runny potatoes, but he had eaten up every scrap. They had drinking and dancing and board games and singing and by the time midnight came he was rosy cheeked and smiling as everyone hugged and wished each other a happy new year.
When the party wound to a close, sleeping arrangements became a small problem.
The kids all filed into Will’s room, the girls taking the bed and the boys camping out in sleeping bags on the floor. Joyce and Hopper took Joyce’s room, Nancy and Johnathan in his room and that left Steve and Billy to the sofa bed in the living room.
Joyce left them with blankets and pillows and soft, motherly smiles telling them to come and get her if they needed anything at all.
Billy had stared at the pull out mattress like it was a battlefield.
Steve hadn’t thought anything of it, felt rosy from the alcohol he had drank and just sat on one edge of the bed and peeled off his sneakers and tugged the ugly Christmas jumper over his head and his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers and t-shirt. He tucked himself under the covers and settled down, only then realising that Billy was still just standing there at the end of the bed.
“You alright there, Hargrove?”
Billy had flinched like he was coming out of a deep thought and shrugged his shoulders. Steve watched him with sleepy eyes as he pulled his boots off rigidly and seemed to hover about at his jeans.
“Don’t overthink it, just get in to bed.”
Billy stared at him for a bit, face hard to read in the dark, but then he had tugged his jeans off to his y-fronts and quickly slipped into the bed too.
They lay side by side in the dark, both of them staring up at the ceiling.
Steve’s eyes were heavy and were slipping closed but then Billy had been shifting about, wriggling like a kid and Steve had eventually cursed and rolled over.
“If you keep that up, I’m never going to get any sleep.”
Billy had grumbled and stilled, “I don’t usually sleep with so many layers on. I can’t get comfortable.”
Steve had been baffled, the guy was only in his shirt and underwear but was acting like he was wearing a winter wardrobe.
“Lose the shirt then, do what you got to do to sleep, I’m knackered.”
Billy had looked at the ceiling for a long time like he was deliberating a riddle before throwing the covers off him with a “fuck it,” and tugged the shirt off his back and threw it to the floor.
He settled down into the covers again and rolled over, back to him and stilled.
Steve, just grateful for the quiet to sleep, rolled over and nestled down in against the pillow.
“G’night, Billy,” he mumbled into the dark.
He didn’t really expect a reply, he was just used to doing that after sleeping over with Dustin or occasionally when the group stayed the night at El’s, goodnight's ringing out all around like a ritual before bed.
He was almost asleep when he heard the soft, mumbled reply, “goodnight, Steve.”
That night, old nightmares that Steve had since managed to dampen down came back. He used to have them every night, was lucky to even get three hours of sleep in a night before thrashing awake, the screeches of Demogorgons and the images of teeth studded mouths opening up to swallow him whole.
He had jerked awake, breathing hard, Billy’s face hovering above him in the dark.
“Jesus, Harrington, you were thrashing about like you were drowning.”
“Shit, shit, sorry. I had a nightmare.”
Billy stilled, looking at him as he tried to regain his breathing, voice feeling a little hoarse, he must have been shouting in his sleep again.
“I get them too, they’re a bitch, huh?”
That had surprised Steve. He had come to see Billy like a tree; solid and sturdy with roots fitted deep into the ground like how he planted his feet before a fight. Nothing seemed to phase the guy, he’d seen him get pushed to the ground by Demo dogs and spring back up again like it was nothing, cut through them all with his axe like he was born to do it.
After, when the gang re-grouped after a mission, Billy always looked stoic and unaffected. The idea of him being scared was a completely foreign thought to Steve.
“Look,” Billy said, breaking Steve out of his meandering thoughts, “don’t look too much into this, but I could help.”
“Help?
“Help you sleep, I mean.”
Steve looked at him, “you planning on knocking me out or something?”
Billy barked a laugh and it had Steve smiling, eyes long adjusted until he could see the faint outline of him in the dark, the ridge of his nose, the crinkle around his eyes, the flash of pearly whites as he grinned.
“The thought is appealing, but no, something nicer, more helpful than that.”
“I’m listening,” Steve said suspiciously.
Bill blew out a sigh and settled down into the mattress again, lying on his side facing Steve this time, “when I was a kid, I got nightmares all the time. Not sure why. My Mom, she used to come into bed with me and hold me. Works like a charm.”
That was a lot to process. Billy never mentioned his Mom. Never mentioned being scared or vulnerable in any way shape or form. And he never seemed like the kind of guy that liked to be held.
“You want to hold me while we sleep?”
“Jesus, Harrington, you don’t need to be such a Princess about it,” Billy hissed, hackles raised suddenly, barriers back up.
“Sorry,” Steve said hurriedly, not wanting to mess this up, “I just – I mean. That would help, I guess – it’s worth a try.”
Billy stayed still, staring at him for a long time before he pushed the covers down, opened his arms and looked at Steve like he was challenging him to a duel.
Steve didn’t think too much as he shuffled over, turned and let Billy press his chest into his back, toss the covers back over them and wrap his arm around his side.
He could feel Billy’s face at the back of his neck, feel the slow and steady breaths he let out into his hair, against his skin. He could feel the heat of his body, the rise and fall of his chest against his back. He could feel the press of his arm over his own, above the covers, a nice weight that seemed to hold him down. The touch of his thigh against the back of Steve’s, the length of his legs that slid nicely in against him and seemed to fit just right.
He was so focused on all these things, that he didn’t remember falling asleep at all.
He didn’t have any more nightmares that night.
He had woken to the noise of the kids up and at 'em in the kitchen, banging about making pancakes and eggos for El. The chatter pulled him out of his sleep, and he groaned, rolled over and woke up more when he found the bed huge and empty.
Since then, he had felt a little riled up when it came to sleeping. He found himself night after night thrashing around and wide awake, feeling the bed cold and too big and empty. If he ever did manage to sleep, it was for half an hour to maybe two or three if he was truly exhausted, but he never got any more than that.
Until about two weeks after New Years when he had all the kids over at his house for movie night and it wound up going later than any of them planned. He offered to let everyone stay the night and the kids all accepted eagerly, setting up a giant pillow and blanket fort in the Living room. Steve left them squabbling and laughing and found Billy in the hallway on the house phone.
“Yes. Yes, I’m staying with her.”
Steve fussed with the closet that was now bare of all blankets and spare towels and sheets as he listened to Billy speak, hunched over the phone, back to Steve.
“Yes, I’ll bring her home first thing in the morning. I know. Yes.”
Steve closed the closet door quietly and hovered at the base of the stairs, hands wrapping around the wood of the banister.
“Yes, sir.”
Billy slammed the phone back down and sighed, ran his hands over his face and turned, looking surprised to see Steve standing there.
“All okay?” Steve asked.
“Yeah,” Billy said, sounding tired, “I’ll ah, I’ll -”
“You can stay here, you idiot,” Steve said, “you need to take Max home anyway and I have a guest room.”
Billy looked at him for a time, face unreadable then smiled, “sure, not every day I get to stay in a palace.”
Steve rolled his eyes, turning to climb up the stairs, Billy following, “yeah, yeah.”
He left Billy in the guest room a few doors down from his own, shutting the door on the boy as he sat on the bed, pulling off his boots.
He settled himself into his own bed and as usual, he tossed and turned and failed to find any sleep. The rest of the house had long since silenced, the kids quiet as they slept downstairs. He lay, staring at his ceiling and sighed. He needed sleep. He felt awful these days and he was pretty sure he looked worse. Dark circles had taken up permanent residence under his eyes, dark enough for Joyce and Nancy to fuss over him in concern.
The last time he had gotten any sleep was back on New Year’s, wrapped up against Billy, listening to the lull of him breathe and feeling safe and warm in his arms.
He couldn’t do that, could he? Surely it was just a one-time thing. It would be weird if he asked again, wouldn’t it?
He gave it maybe another half an hour of glaring at the white paint of his ceiling before he threw the covers off him and pulled his bedroom door open.
He crept down the hall quietly, hovering unsure at the door to the guest room, hearing it quiet within. He took a breath and decided to just throw his nerves to the wind, the worst that could happen was Billy would say no, right?
He turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open, eyes trying to find Billy in the low light as he closed the door behind him again.
He crept towards the bed, finding a pair of deep blue eyes peering up at him from the covers.
Billy lay facing the door, seemed to wake as soon as Steve entered and just lay there, all golden skin against white sheets, watching Steve slowly.
Steve just stood there, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt and looked back, watching Billy’s eyes move over him, face calm and impassive. Then, he reached over and pulled the end of the comforter down, his arm stretched out along the mattress as an invitation, his chest gleaming in all its glory against the sheets.
Steve turned and settled himself into the bed, feeling deja vous as Billy pushed the covers over him again and pressed his body up against his back.
He fell asleep almost immediately, Billy’s warm breath fanning across the skin of his neck, arm heavy over his body.
That time when he woke again to the early morning light seeping in through the blinds, Billy was still there.
And they had moved in their sleep.
Now, he lay with his face buried into Billy’s neck, legs intertwined. Billy’s arms were wrapped around him, Steve’s fingers laced into golden curls, the other wrapped around his chest.
They were flush against each other, tangled together like lovers and it spiked heat all over his body. Billy breathed steady and he looked so soft and young asleep, Steve found himself lying there with his eyes all over his face. He shifted, trying to get a better look at him and his hips pressed into Billy’s and oh, okay, they were both sporting morning wood.
Steve blushed and tried to think how the hell he was going to get out of this one when blue eyes opened and found his.
Billy stared at him for a long time, eyes sleepy and face still soft. He tried to scramble for an excuse, not wanting to wait for Billy’s inevitable throwing up of his barriers and ripping himself out of the embrace.
Instead, the blond had just lay there, eyes moving over Steve’s face calmly, blinking slowly, almost serene and didn’t move at all.
They had de-tangled when they heard the kids kick up into movement downstairs and didn’t talk about it again.
A few weeks on, Steve can’t sleep unless Billy is there.
He has memories of endless nights of him appearing at the foot of the bed or mattress or the edge of the sleeping bag Billy slept in due to whatever situation called for it. The blond would just do the same thing; open his eyes, look at Steve calmly and open his arms to him. Time after time, they woke up tangled together.
Somewhere along the line, moves were made, and now, somehow, Billy Hargrove is his boyfriend.
Go figure.
Tonight, it’s the same story. The kids are at his house for a now annual sleepover, the pillow fort is a permanent fixture in his living room, bigger than its ever been and somehow has tunnels.
He tosses another pile of sheets at Dustin and laughs as he watches him scramble over to Lucas who helps him drape them across the ‘entrance’ like a royal Arabian tent out of the movies.
Billy comes back from calling his dad and barks out to the kids to be quiet so he and Steve can actually get some sleep around them playing D&D in the dark. The kids shout acknowledgements to them from inside the lamp-light fort.
Steve follows Billy towards the stairs after bidding the kids goodnight and Billy waits for him while he locks the front door. As soon as they reach the landing, Billy laces their fingers together and yawns.
“Jesus, those films go on forever,” he says tiredly, scrubbing at his eyes with his free hand.
Steve just smiles, “I’m starting to like them, that Han Solo is a total babe.”
Billy smirks over his shoulder at him as he pushes the door to Steve’s room open and drops his hand to sit on his side of the bed, “oh yeah? I got some competition here?”
Steve chuckles to himself as he closes the bedroom door behind him and tugs off his sweater, Billy peeling off his shirt and working at the belt of his jeans.
“I think you’re safe, for now,” he teases, going over to his side, near the window and pulls the curtains closed.
He strips himself to his boxers and climbs under the covers, Billy has since revealed that he actually sleeps fully nude and isn’t comfortable unless he does so. He slides into the covers and immediately reaches for Steve, pulls him against his chest and buries his face into his neck with a sigh.
“Okay,” he mumbles, voice muffled by Steve’s skin, “I’m happy now.”
Steve grins and fixes the covers around them before snuggling down into Billy’s embrace. He smells of sandalwood and cigarettes and Steve’s expensive cologne that he’s noticed has suddenly started emptying quicker than usual and smiles.
Billy’s hands trail up and down his bare back until eventually they still, soft snores that Steve finds far too adorable for his own good filling the air.
He closes his eyes and presses a kiss to Billy’s cheek, settling in and finding sleep easy.
He hasn’t had a nightmare in almost three weeks now and the shadows under his eyes have long since disappeared.