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Billy was tired. He was angry too, but mostly just so, so tired. Tired of this town, tired of his dad, tired of everything. It was easier to be angry than tired. At least it could be directed at something, make it so he could believe there was someone to blame for everything other than himself.
Sometimes it would eat at him. Late at night when no one else was around. He couldn’t be angry anymore then, even with himself.
He hated everything about himself. What he did to other people, how he acted, how he spoke.
Sometimes he would cry. Curl up in a ball on top of his sheets and sob silently because he couldn't even stand his own voice. He’d lay there for hours, then he’d get up and be Billy Hargrove, loud-mouth asshole who everyone hated. He got to make himself, then. Whatever fucked up dark version of himself that was. He got to make his own titles. King of Hawkins High, could get any girl he wants. He wasn’t defined by anything he didn’t choose to be defined by.
When Billy was 16 he was given the classification test. Susan took him to the free clinic. A nurse gave him a clipboard filled with pages upon pages of questions. She took his vitals, measured his limbs, and left him to wait on an exam table while Susan read a magazine in the waiting room. It took forever for the doctor to come in, but when she did she smiled at him sadly. That’s when he knew.
Little. He had tested as a little, making up 15% of the population. 20% were caregivers, and the rest were neutrals. They gave him an informational packet, an official classification filing notice, and a phone number for a crisis line. Susan drove him home in silence. Neil beat the shit out of him the moment he got home. The paperwork got thrown in the trash. The next morning Neil called a friend at the local filing office and with a bit of persuasion Billy got his official classification. Neutral. Neil told him that if he ever caught him acting little he would kill him.
Through friends Billy had heard that littles were supposed to be in their headspaces at least once every three months to stay healthy. Billy told himself he didn’t need to. California was more open than most places with classification, so he learned more about what he could have had.
Max didn’t know. Billy made the mistake of telling one of his friends. That friend told his mom, who called social services. Neil convinced the social worker that the friend was mistaken. By the time the bruises from that had healed they were packed to move.
Indiana was the worst (or best) place he could have gone. No one talked about their classifications. Anytime you heard about someone’s status it was a whispered rumor. A piece of gossip to speculate on. Billy knew through the grapevine that there were caregivers at Hawkins High. He hadn’t heard of any other littles.
That was another thing, as secretive as everyone was about their classifications, being a little was unheard of. Being a caregiver wasn’t too out of the norm. Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler were both caregivers, that’s part of why many people were surprised when they broke up. They would’ve been amazing parents Billy heard someone say in the hall.
He hated Harrington. Hated how perfect his life was. Hated how when he couldn’t quite piece himself back together, and Harrington would look at him, he would want. Want something that he couldn’t have. He wanted to hurt him for it. If Harrington went away maybe that part of him would too. It was stupid to believe.
Smashing Harrington’s face in was one of the worst things he had ever done. Billy woke up in a stranger’s empty house, feeling sick and dizzy. He managed to stumble out to the porch to find his car gone before his legs gave out. He was alone. He couldn’t get home, or find Max, or even think straight. He felt tears welling up in his eyes before he tamped them back down. He took a few shaky breaths and started walking.
He got about half a mile before some passerby took pity on him and drove him the rest of the way home. Neil and Susan were gone again by the time he got back. He curled up in his bed and cried. Cried until he couldn’t anymore. When he woke up Max was home, with his car parked in the driveway, claiming that she had snuck out for a walk and that he had driven her back home. That was fine enough by him. He drove her to school that day without a word.
Billy thought that he wanted Harrington to leave him alone. But it just made everything worse. Now there was no one to direct anything at, no matter how terrible that may have been. It was eating at him, slowly but surely.
Weeks passed, the weather grew cold and grey. The depressing middle of January. Billy gave up on his usual outfits and just wore whatever layers would keep him warm. Basketball practice was as usual. They had lost a few games, won a few games, were generally just like every other shitty high school team. Billy had given up in practice too. He played, sure. But he didn’t give it any of the energy he had before. He spaced out and just let whatever muscle memory he had take over. He wasn’t paying enough attention.
Harrington dodged a little too close to him during gym class. Billy hadn’t even seen him. He made to step out of the way and tripped over his own feet. He must’ve made some kind of noise because Harrington paused and looked down at him with a bewildered expression. The coach blew his whistle and Billy tried to will away the tears forming in his eyes. Fuck.
“Harrington! Take Hargrove to the office, I will not stand roughhousing on my court.” Coach yelled over the din of the other players. Harrington took a breath to argue but Coach was having none of it and blew his whistle again, signifying for the other players to resume practise.
Harrington looked back down at him, this time with annoyance. It made his throat tighten up in a way that meant if he didn’t get out of this fast he was in trouble. Billy shoved himself up from the linoleum and started walking towards the locker room with Harrington on his heels. As soon as the door swung shut behind them Harrington was at him.
“What the fuck is up with you lately? I get beating the shit out of me, I get that. But not a word, for weeks, and suddenly you’re getting us both in trouble with the coach? I thought you’d turned into less of an asshole, but I guess I was wrong.” he punctuated the end of his sentence by slamming his locker shut. Billy had been staring blankly into his own locker waiting for Harrington to finish whatever pent up tirade he had so he could leave. The slam of the locker snapped him to clarity and he let out a sob that had Harrington stopping in his tracks. He started crying hard enough that it hurt his lungs.
Billy shut his locker and slid down to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. His breath started catching in his throat and he had to gasp to breathe in between sobs. “...Billy?” he heard Harrington scoot closer to where he was curled up on the tile. Billy inhaled sharply and choked on the air, sending himself into a coughing fit. “Billy you’ve gotta calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick.” Harrington put a hand on his arm and Billy snapped his head up. Harrington… Steve... looked… gentle. And worried. And Billy was so, so tired. He barely even thought about it before throwing his arms around Steve’s neck. He felt the other boy tense and Billy made some little noise. If Steve shoved him off and left him in the locker room right now it might finally shatter him to pieces. But Steve’s arms tightened around him and pulled him closer.
Billy clutched the fabric of Steve’s shirt. He could faintly hear Steve hushing him and his hand was running up and down Billy’s back. He cried into Steve’s shoulder for who knows how long. When he was reduced to just sniffling, he started to become more aware of what was going on. Everything seemed muted and hazy, it felt like his brain was working at half its usual speed. Steve had at some point resituated them so that Billy was in his lap, he was petting Billy’s hair and mumbling something Billy couldn’t quite bring himself to focus on. Apparently Billy had brought his hand up to his mouth, and while he had avoided the mortifying gesture of sucking his thumb, he was chewing on the side of his hand.
Billy was snuggled as close as he could be to Steve. The locker room was cold in only his gym clothes, and Steve was warm. He felt Steve shuffle around under him and whined, tightening his grip on Steve’s shirt. Steve huffed a laugh, “C’mon buddy, my legs are falling asleep and we should get you out of here before the team comes back.” Billy grumbled some, but let Steve maneuver his way up to standing. Once Steve was off the floor, Billy instinctively raised his arms to be picked up. He felt a chill of fear after he realized how juvenile what he had done was. Billy felt tears welling up again and lowered his arms.
“Oh, baby...” Steve breathed. He picked Billy up by the underarms and hoisted him onto one of the benches. Billy wiped at his eyes and kicked his feet aimlessly while Steve rummaged through his locker. “Do you have anything soft in here? Like warm, or something?” Steve threw the question over his shoulder as he continued to go through the contents of Billy’s locker. Billy pointed to a duffel bag shoved into the bottom and went back to chewing on his hand. Steve made a little ‘aha!’ and pulled a baggy pair of jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt out of the bag. He threw everything he had taken out of the locker back in and turned to Billy, who was watching him with wide eyes.
He looked… innocent. All of the walls built up around Billy Hargrove were down and Steve almost felt like he shouldn’t be looking. But then Billy smiled at him, just a little, around his hand which he definitely should not have in his mouth. Billy Hargrove was gonna beat the shit out of him later but right now, he had to get Billy dressed and also the fuck out of this place. But there were a couple questions he needed to ask first.
“Hey Billy?” Billy looked up at him, “so you’re a little?” Billy stopped swinging his feet and nodded after a short pause. “Ok, ok just checking.” Steve raked his hands through his hair and sighed. Fuck. That meant Billy was the only little at Hawkins High. And a very little-little by the looks of it. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, “Billy, about how old is your headspace?” Billy frowned and momentarily took his hand out of his mouth.
“D’no,” he mumbled. By the time Steve looked up Billy already had his hand back in his mouth.
“You dunno?” Billy shrugged and started picking at the hem of his shirt.
“Haven’ been li’l before. I d’no.” Billy kept his eyes on the floor and resolutely kept his hand in his mouth. Steve stared at Billy. Fuck. What the fuck.
“You’ve… never been little before? Ever?” Billy shook his head. “Ok. Ok, shit um. Alright, I’m gonna change you out of your gym clothes and then we’re gonna take you home, ok?” Billy’s head snapped up and he started wildly shaking his head ‘no’.
“N’t home.” Billy said it firmly, and he looked scared, so Steve relented.
“Ok, ok. Not home. I’ll take you to my house, is that ok?” Billy nodded and let Steve manipulate him out of his clothes and into the shirt and pants he had grabbed. Almost as an afterthought, Steve grabbed Billy’s boots and jacket out of the locker before shutting it. He fished Billy’s arms through the sleeves of the jacket and begrudgingly let him chew on a sleeve while he laced up Billy’s boots.
Steve finished lacing the boots, pushed himself up from the floor and offered Billy one of his hands. It was clear Billy probably wanted to be carried, but Steve wasn’t going to take the chance that someone would see them in the halls. Billy pouted a little but took his hand nonetheless.
Steve navigated them through the less traveled hallways to get out to the parking lot. Billy trailed a bit behind and swung their joined hands playfully. He had stopped chewing on his sleeve but was biting his lip, which wasn’t much better. He kept stumbling if Steve tried to pick up their pace any, like his legs weren’t quite holding him up. Which just contributed to Steve’s working theory that Billy was probably really really little.
When they finally got to the Beamer, Steve guided Billy around to the passenger seat and buckled him in before getting in the driver's side. Billy immediately put the jacket sleeve back in his mouth and kicked his feet while Steve pulled out of the lot.
Steve watched Billy out of the corner of his eye as he drove. He seemed to be transfixed with the world around them. His eyes were blown wide and glued to the window. At one point he excitedly got Steve’s attention and pointed at a herd of cows huddled together in a field.
“Yeah buddy, cows! I see.” Billy nodded enthusiastically and followed the field with his eyes until it was out of sight. After a couple minutes, Billy started to shift uncomfortably and tug on his seatbelt. He had his hand back in his mouth instead of the sleeve and was whining while tugging at his shirt collar. Steve glanced over at him with worry.
“What’s wrong? Are you too hot?” Billy whimpered and tugged at his shirt collar more aggressively.
“I’chy.” came his garbled reply, as Billy had apparently neglected to remove his fingers from his mouth first.
“Your shirt is itchy?” Billy nodded, a few frustrated tears slipping down his face. “Ok, we’ll be at my house in just a second and we’ll find you something else to wear.” Steve flipped on his blinker to turn down his street and kept an eye on Billy for the rest of the drive. He looked pretty upset, but wasn’t doing anything dangerous like unbuckling or hurting himself. He was irritatedly kicking his feet and crying but seemed satisfied that he would be able to change his shirt soon. Overall, crisis averted. For now.
Steve pulled into his driveway and killed the engine of his car. Billy wasn’t getting anymore upset, but he wasn’t getting less upset either and the last thing Steve wanted to do was push him into a tantrum. He popped open Billy’s door and was immediately met with an armful of crying little.
Billy had managed to unbuckle himself and fell out of the door the moment it was open. He was now firmly hanging on to Steve and Steve had a feeling that Billy wouldn’t be walking around under his own power anymore. He huffed and picked Billy up, setting him on his hip. Billy was pretty heavy, and while Steve wasn’t particularly big, he was still strong and it wasn’t a long walk. Billy kept chewing on the fingers of one of his hands, using the other to keep the offending shirt collar from touching him.
Steve managed to juggle Billy and his house keys to get them through the front door. He kicked it shut behind them and carefully made his way up the stairs. As soon as they got to his bedroom, Steve deposited Billy onto his bed. He bounced a little and kept pulling at the shirt collar but was distracted for a moment by looking around Steve’s room. He flitted his eyes around looking at every band poster and the random knick-knacks set along the shelves.
Steve took the moment to step into the attached bathroom to dig out the stuff his mom had gotten when he was classified a few years ago. He had to pull out a bunch of half-empty cleaning supplies but he eventually found two plastic shopping bags in the back of the cabinet under the sink. Everything was a little dusty, but it hadn’t been touched since it was bought so the packaging was still intact. In one bag there was a three pack of pacifiers, a pack of diapers, some baby wipes and powder, a sippy cup, a bottle, and what looked like some kind of teething toy. In the other, there was a stuffed lion and a little blue blanket with stars patterned across it. Perfect.
Steve started to gather the items back into their bags and put everything back in the cabinet when he heard a noise from his room. Something like a muffled gasp. Billy. Fuck. He shot up from the floor and stepped back into his room. Billy was curled up on the bed shaking. Now that he was in the room Steve could hear muffled sobbing.
“Oh, Billy I’m so sorry.” Steve murmured as he rushed over to the bed. He gathered Billy up in his arms. Billy ended up with his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist with his face buried against his stomach. He was clinging as hard as he could to Steve like he was afraid he would disappear. He probably was. Steve hushed him as best he could, pushing Billy’s hair out of his face and muttering words of comfort. Billy eventually wriggled up to sitting and slung his arms around Steve’s neck.
“Thought you left.” he mumbled against Steve’s collar bone.
“Of course not, buddy. I wouldn’t just leave you like this. I was just in the other room, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ll make sure to let you know if I’m going anywhere, ok?” he held Billy’s face in his hands and wiped away any stray tears with his thumbs. He made sure to look Billy in the eyes to make sure that he believed Steve wouldn’t leave. It was tentative, but Billy nodded. “Ok, ok. I’m gonna grab some stuff from the bathroom so we can get you changed, I’m not even gonna step out of the room so you can watch me the whole time.” Billy nodded again and put his hand back in his mouth.
Steve slowly got up and inched across his room, he leaned into the bathroom, grabbed the bags and walked back to the bed as quickly as he could. He dropped the stuff on the floor and plopped onto the bed next to Billy. He flourished his arms out dramatically, “See? I told you, now that wasn’t so bad.” Billy giggled a little as Steve hopped back up from the bed. He wasn’t sure how Billy was going to react to the items he had. Billy was really young in this headspace, and he probably needed all the stuff, but that didn’t mean he would take to it easily. Steve was smart enough not to try to interrogate Billy while he was little but he knew something bad had to have happened for him to resist dropping into his headspace for this long.
The plastic bags crinkled as Steve began removing and laying out the items from the first bag on the floor. Billy watched with a confused look on his face, he didn’t seem to understand why Steve was showing him these things. Steve sat on the floor next to the lined up items and tried to think of a way to get Billy to grasp that these things were for him without upsetting him. He grabbed the pack of pacifiers and tore open the plastic, he unwrapped one while Billy watched.
He once again pushed himself up from the floor and muttered a ‘I’ll be right back’ before stepping into the bathroom and quickly washing it off with hot water. The one he had picked out was light blue, and had a similar star pattern on it to the blanket. Steve strode back into the bedroom and came to a stop standing in front of Billy. He gently pulled the hand Billy was still chewing on out of his mouth. Billy whined and petulantly kicked one of his feet while looking up at Steve confusedly. Steve took a breath and held out the pacifier to Billy.
Billy looked from Steve, to the pacifier, and back to Steve. He looked sad, and tried to pull his hand back (assumedly to put it in his mouth).
“C’mon buddy,” Steve spoke in a placating tone, this was a delicate situation and he could not fuck up here if he wanted to take care of Billy after this. “Having your hand in your mouth is kinda icky. This is better.” Steve held still while Billy studied him. He looked suspicious, like Steve was trying to trick him. He crossed his arms and started toeing his boot against the carpet. He avoided Steve’s eyes but he could see tears forming.
“N’t allowed.” Billy sniffed and dug the toe of his boot further into the fibers of the carpet. A thousand questions popped into Steve’s head but none of them really needed answering at the moment. What was urgent was that Billy was crying again and if Steve didn’t get him changed and hydrated soon he was gonna have Billy feeling bad as well as upset. Steve sat down next to Billy but kept the pacifier held out. Billy eyed it like it was going to bite him.
“C’mon buddy, I’m not gonna be mad. I only want to take care of you but to do that you have to let me. I promise if you use this you’ll be a lot more comfortable. If you don’t like it, you can spit it out and I’ll never bring it up again.” Steve used the tone he often used to bargain with the kids if they had to do something but didn’t want to. Billy still looked apprehensive, but he took the pacifier. He turned it over in his hands a couple times, and kept a close eye on Steve while slowly raising it to his mouth.
Steve held his breath as Billy made up his mind about the pacifier. At first it seemed like Billy was going to spit it out, but once it actually settled in his mouth he seemed ok with it. Steve even saw it bob a couple times meaning it was being used, a good sign. Steve finally let out his breath and internally celebrated the first of what he was sure would be many small steps.
As soon as Billy got used to the pacifier, he started looking around at the other items on the floor. As much as the pacifier had been a victory, Billy probably wasn’t going to like any of the other things very much either. At least not without a little convincing.
Steve slid off the bed and back onto the floor, he grabbed the changing supplies and made a quick trip to his dresser to find an oversized sweatshirt that had been worn soft from use. Billy watched him all the while, like he was afraid Steve would suddenly switch up on him and get mad at him for being baby-ish. Steve filed that away as another thing to talk about later, and stopped back in front of Billy. He dropped the pile of stuff on the bed next to him and grabbed one last thing from the floor.
He slid Billy’s jacket off his arms first, then undid his boots. Once the boots had been chucked near the wall he popped back up.
“Alright bud, arms up.” Billy obediently lifted his arms and let Steve pull the shirt over his head. Steve studied a red mark that the collar had left on Billy’s neck with worry, he probably had some cream he could put on it but it couldn’t have been fun. The removal of Billy’s shirt had also revealed some bruises that Steve knew weren't from him, they were too fresh. Dark blotches scattered over his chest, darker where the blood had pooled. They didn’t look accidental. Steve pretended he didn’t notice and instead revealed the last thing he had grabbed from the floor, the stuffed lion.
Billy’s eyes lit up and he excitedly hugged the stuffed toy once Steve pressed it to his chest. Steve took the opportunity to lay Billy down on the bed so he could get the part Billy would probably be the least happy about over quickly. He undid Billy’s jeans as he played with the lion, pulling them and his underwear down and off in a couple quick motions. He glanced at Billy but he seemed to be entirely absorbed with the toy and not paying any attention to what Steve was doing, which was ideal. He briskly wiped Billy down and got one of the diapers positioned under him. They seemed a little big, but they were adjustable so it wasn’t too much of a problem. He sprinkled on a little powder to avoid chafing, then folded it on and stuck down the adhesive straps.
“Ok honey, all done!” he helped Billy sit back up and watched his face. He had seemingly realized what Steve had pulled and was lightly blushing but didn’t seem terribly upset about it. “You’re gonna have to put down the lion for a second so we can get this sweatshirt on you, I wouldn’t want you to get cold.” Billy whined around his pacifier but set the lion down next to him and let Steve drop the sweatshirt over his head. It was pretty big on Steve to begin with, and apparently Billy’s torso was a little shorter than his because it came down to his mid thigh.
Overall he looked adorable. He had picked back up the lion and had it tucked under his arm. Billy started rubbing his eyes sleepily, and he made grabby hands at Steve. Steve glanced at the clock, gym was the class before lunch so it was around 11am. Letting Billy nap for a couple hours wouldn’t kill him and he’d rather Billy be up late than cranky now.
So Steve took off his own jacket, shoes and jeans, clicked off the light, and crawled under the covers. He pulled the blanket back for Billy and tucked it around him once he was settled. Billy kept the lion securely tucked under his arm and pillowed his head on Steve’s chest. Billy sighed contentedly and shut his eyes. Steve hummed aimlessly and ran his hand up and down Billy’s back until he was sure he had fallen asleep.
Steve crept out from under the covers and carefully supported Billy’s head until he could replace where his chest had been with a pillow. He waited with baited breath as Billy stirred but he just squeezed his lion and settled back down. Steve took slow steps out of his room and left the door cracked so he could hear if Billy woke up. Ideally, Steve would be in the room when he did, as he had no idea how Billy would react to waking up alone. Probably not well. But he had stuff he had to do.
The first thing Steve did was call Joyce. It was the middle of the day on a Friday so he called Melvald’s instead of her house. He waited while the dial tone sounded until he heard the click of her picking up the receiver.
“Hey Joyce! It’s Steve. I have kind of a weird question.”
“Well shoot, Steve. The store’s deserted and I don’t have anything better to do.” Joyce’s cheerful voice filtered tinnily through the phone.
“Now, I know you used to volunteer at the daycare in Hawkins General Hospital,” Joyce ‘mhm’ed the affirmative, “Did you get many littles in there?” Steve propped the question and waited while Joyce thought.
“Mm, a couple. Usually only if they didn’t have anywhere else to go. Why? Anything happen?” Joyce was using her ‘concerned mom’ voice on him. Steve worked his bottom lip with his teeth. Billy clearly didn’t want anyone to know about his status, not even Steve.
“For now, just… consider this a hypothetical.” Steve sighed. “What would happen if... if a little weren’t in their headspace for a long time? Say a couple years?” Joyce huffed. Steve could feel her worry through the phone even though she hadn’t said anything yet.
“It wouldn’t be good, Steve. It’d probably be traumatic for the little in of itself, not to mention whatever was keeping them from being in their headspace. Are you sure about this being a hypothetical? I leave work at 7 and I could send Jonathan over before then.”
“I think I’ll be alright. But could you ask Jonathan to drive Dustin home if he can? I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”
“Of course, I’ll call you back and let you know what’s happening! Gotta go! I have a customer.” Joyce hung the phone up with a click.
Steve hung up his own receiver and slid down the wall to the floor. He sat there for a while, just breathing, holding his head in his hands. There was something more going on with Billy, all the signs were there, and Steve was tearing himself up inside over what to do about it. He could call Hopper, but Billy was in no place to talk to him. He might not even want to. It was also possible that if Steve even tried to bring it up Billy would flip and he wouldn’t ever be able to help him. The best option would probably be to wait and see if Billy said anything.
Steve heard a thump from upstairs and shot up from the floor. Shit. He took the stairs two at a time and kicked open the door to his room. It took Steve’s brain a second to catch up with his eyes. Billy was sitting on the edge of his bed, angrily shoving his feet into his boots. He glanced up at Steve but ignored him, continuing to lace up his boots.
“Billy.” Billy practically growled at him and gave up on tying his laces, instead trying to shove past him out the door. Like hell. Steve grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back from the doorway. Billy went easily, he grumbled a bit but sat back down on the bed. Steve stood in front of him with his arms crossed. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“Home.”
“In whose car? I drove you here.”
“Then I’ll walk.” Billy bit back. He was hunched over with his arms crossed over his chest, like he was hugging himself. It seemed like he was trying to will himself out of his headspace, the lion and pacifier were both discarded on the bed. Steve felt a pang of sympathy, he let his arms drop.
“Billy…”
“You don’t get to feel bad for me after everything I’ve done to you!” he snapped. Billy made for the door again but Steve was in his way. He tried to shoulder past him but Steve just did the first thing that came to mind. He ducked under Billy’s arm and hugged him.
Billy froze. Steve held him to his chest as firmly as he could without hurting him. Steve could feel him trembling, and he knew if Billy was actually angry Steve would already be on the floor. Billy sniffled and raised his arms to hug back. Steve rested his hand on the back of Billy’s head and let him hide his face against his shoulder. He held Billy like that for an unknown amount of time, just letting him soak up the contact. Steve let the silence stretch on until Billy eventually mumbled something against his shoulder.
“What was that?”
“M’ sorry.” Billy said a little louder.
“It’s ok buddy, you don’t have to be sorry. I know you’re just scared.” Steve attempted to placate him by rubbing his back.
“No.”
“No?”
“No!” Billy pulled back so he could look at Steve, there were tears welling in his eyes and his bottom lip was trembling. “Bad. I’m bad. Y’re s’pposed to be mad at me.” Steve’s eyebrows shot up.
“Why would I be mad at you?” Steve asked. Billy whined, and buried his face into Steve’s shoulder. Billy couldn’t be coaxed back out no matter how hard he tried, so Steve eventually gave up. He scooped Billy up and carried him down to the kitchen so he could find them something to eat.
Steve ended up making them each a sandwich, cutting the one for Billy into triangles and giving him a sippy cup of juice. Billy nibbled unenthusiastically on the sandwich and— after glaring at the cup for a few minutes— took some sips of juice but he got bored fast. He didn’t seem to like being on his own in the kitchen chair, and crawled down onto the floor. Billy ended up tugging on Steve’s sleeve until he picked him up so he could sit in Steve’s lap. Once Billy was content with his position, Steve managed to convince him to eat the rest of the sandwich and drink some more of the juice. After they were both finished eating, Steve deposited Billy on the couch and quickly went upstairs to retrieve his pacifier and lion. When he returned he flicked the TV on and took his own seat on the couch next to Billy. He scrolled to a random channel that seemed to be playing a brightly colored animated show.
Billy curled up against Steve’s side, immersed in the episode of a cartoon that started playing. He had the lion pressed to his chest after fussing with it for a moment, to make sure it could ‘see’ the tv. His pacifier was tucked in his mouth and bobbed gently. He looked adorable, and sweet. Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him close to his side.
Steve let the channel play as it switched between different cartoons. After several episodes, Billy’s eyes started to droop until he nodded off. Eventually the channel switched to evening talk shows, so Steve found a channel playing sitcom reruns.
After an hour or two, Billy groaned and cracked open his eyes. He ran a hand over his face and blinked a couple times to clear his vision. He glanced around the living room before pointedly looking up at Steve. Billy was clearly groggy, but as far as Steve could tell seemed to be out of his headspace. Which was… good and bad. Good because he could talk to Billy, but bad because Billy could also talk back. Very unsure of what to lead with, Steve settled on a simple, “Hey.”
“...hey...”
“Do you want to go home now?”
“...yeah.”
They both changed and climbed into the Beamer in silence, neither of them willing to broach what was clearly a very complicated topic. Steve turned the radio on, but other than that it was quiet other than the sound of the engine. Billy opened his mouth to say something, but just exhaled and kept quiet. Damn. So it was up to Steve.
“So…” he trailed off and glanced at Billy. Billy stared back.
“So?”
Steve sighed.
“I feel like there’s something you want to say.” Billy crossed his arms and looked out the window in lieu of a response. After a few minutes he muttered something at the window. “What was that?”
“Don’t think this means you get to coddle me. I’m still fine on my own.” Billy gritted out.
Steve shrugged. “Ok.”
Billy looked over at him with a suspicious expression, Steve met his eyes and quirked an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you going to say some stupid shit about how I need to be taken care of or something? Floor is yours, Harrington.”
Steve shrugged again.
“Dude, I don’t know who you hang out with but no one really says shit like that anymore unless they’re really old fashioned,” he glanced over at Billy, “I’m being nice to you because I’ve been presented with an overwhelming amount of evidence that you aren’t just an asshole. It’s not only because you’re a little.” Billy had the sense to look embarrassed, but stayed quiet until they turned onto his street.
“I can walk from here,” he said.
“You sure?” Steve asked. Billy nodded, so Steve pulled up to the curb so Billy could get out. Billy pulled the door open but paused. “Y’know…” Steve said, “if you ever need to do that again, I’m only a phone call away.”
Billy smiled a little.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” and with a slam of the car door, he was gone.