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Her voice is the one constant, the only thing he can hold onto. It’s the most familiar sound in this sea of nothingness; he can never actually see her, though.
There are other voices too, many he doesn’t recognize, only one other voice that he does but doesn’t come around as often as hers.
It’s the most comforting sound to reach his ears every time he hears it. When it stops, everything is hollow again, cold, dark, scary.
“Mom just lets him talk to her that way, I hate it. Since you’ve been gone, things have been so up and down. Sometimes things are really good and other times it’s…worse than before. I want you to wake up and come home, but…also…” It grows silent except for the sound of soft sniffling. “I know what he would do to you, again. Maybe that’s why you don’t wanna wake up, I wouldn’t blame you. It’s probably easier this way, right? Nothing hurts anymore… Except…I can’t help but think it’s probably really lonely, too, even when I still come every day.”
There’s a little less cold for a while, some warmth lingering around him.
“I’ll be back tomorrow after school. Steve will be too for a bit ‘cause he’s bringing me. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
The warmth slips away then and it grows quiet for a long time.
“You know, Billy would kill you if he knew you brought him flowers,” the familiar voice is followed by a warm laugh.
“What did flowers ever to do him?” another voice speaks, deeper sounding, but still calming. Recognizable. Not as much as her voice, but more than anyone else but hers. “At least they liven up the room a little, you know? Bring some life to it…”
There’s silence.
“Sorry, I just mean-”
“No, it’s okay, Steve. I get it. They’re pretty. Roses might be a bit too much, though.” Another laugh.
“They look nice…and I wasn’t sure what else to get.”
“They smell good. Billy would totally laugh at them.”
“Who’d have thought I’d ever bring Billy Hargrove, of all people, roses?”
“It’s corny, but nice.” A brief pause follows. “At least you come…”
“His dad still hasn’t…?”
“No.”
A soft sigh, followed by a small spark of warmth. “That really sucks.”
This time there’s not much talking, but she’s still here, and the warmth is back. All around him. Instead of her voice, there’s sniffling, lots of crying, mumbles of indecipherable words, quiet pleading.
“Please, please, please…”
He can still hear it even when she’s gone.
“Alright, Max put me in charge today.” The other more recognizable voice is back this time, the deeper calming voice. “She couldn’t come and says she’s sorry, but she’ll definitely be here tomorrow. I think this is the first day since you got here that she hasn’t been able to come.”
It’s quiet for a bit, other smaller noises filling the silence, then humming. Low humming.
“Max says you like to read. I never knew that before. Never woulda guessed. I brought a book and I’m really horrible at reading, but I thought maybe I could try to read some of it. At least you can’t laugh at me for stumbling over my words.”
“I-If he doesn’t s-soon…his dad…S-Steve, he’s gotta wake u-up.”
“What about his dad, Max?”
There’s sniffling and a couple sharp hiccups. “He says th-things, like-like how the longer Billy’s h-here, the more money i-it costs us. Th-that it’s probably just better to…to pull the plug. I-” Another sharp inhale. “H-He actually m-might…”
“I don’t know if you can hear me, I really hope so.”
It’s her voice this time and only her voice. She’s not crying, at least. He can feel a warmth really close, hovering in one spot, kind of right in front of him.
“We never talked about this stuff. Well, you haven’t gotten the chance to, but I’ve never talked about this stuff since you’ve been here, and…I want to talk about it.”
She sucks in a deep breath and her voice sounds closer.
“Yes, you were a jerk in the past, a pretty big one. You scared me a lot and pissed me off all the time and I never really understood. I always thought you were out to get me, I never thought about anything else but myself. I didn’t pay attention to know about everything else going on. I get it now.”
The warmth is growing stronger and there’s a light tingling sensation running through him, and that’s different. Not something he has experienced before. He wants to try to hold onto it because it’s something when for so long he’s been surrounded by nothing. The tingling grows stronger the more she talks.
A shuddering breath.
“I forgive you for all of it, okay? Everything. Even the stuff with Lucas, and Lucas forgives you too. Everybody does, okay? Nobody is mad at you. Except, maybe your dad, but when is he not?” There’s a short bitter chuckle that follows that remark. “I don’t know if you remember the stuff you did to those people, you might not ever know, but if you have any idea what I’m talking about and can hear me, just know that it wasn’t your fault, okay? You couldn’t control that…thing. Maybe…maybe if I had noticed something was wrong sooner, we could have stopped it all before things went to shit, but I…I didn’t pay attention enough, even though we lived together, I never noticed anything was wrong. Too wrapped up in my own stupid kid stuff and hating you at the time and…” A deep sigh. “Steve says I can’t keep blaming myself, but it’s hard not to. I feel like I could have done something.”
He wants to physically grab on to the tingling sensation that’s coursing through him, but it’s impossible to. He feels something a little stronger, a pressure somewhere. It ebbs for a moment, then grows stronger, and the tingles get worse.
“You might not have been the best brother, but I wasn’t a good sister either, you know? We were both shit to each other. If there’s any chance things can be different, better, then I really, really want that to happen, okay? I hope you do, too. You said you were sorry, I won’t forget that. If that was the last thing you wanted to say before…well, then I have to think you wish things were different, too. So…so maybe one day we can kind of start over, you know? I’d like that. I don’t like…I can’t think about you not being here anymore. D-Dying…”
Dying? Is that what this is?
“Not after everything that’s happened and you pulling through this far. So many of your injuries are healing and getting better, but what does it matter if you can’t heal here, too?”
Another pressure, right above him now, like it’s pushing him down, grounding him. He hadn’t felt like he even had a body anymore, more like he was just this floating presence, but right now he can feel something, and that something feels like a warm hand touching his face.
He hasn’t felt something this real in so long. He wants to lift his hand and take the hand touching his face, feel it for himself, but when he thinks about doing that, he is unable to do it. He tries to focus all of his energy into that urge, into moving his hand.
She sighs. “It’s getting late. I guess I should probably go. Mom will be here soon.”
No, he doesn’t want her to go just yet. He feels so close, and he’s not sure to what, but to something, and if she disappears again, he’s afraid of regressing, slipping back into total nothingness, losing the very little control he seems to have gained.
The strongest feeling is in his face, the hand still resting there, the warmth. He moves his focus from his hand to his face and pushes himself as hard as he can to get closer to that warmth and to feel that pressure intensify, to hear her voice keep talking, hear it grow clearer and less muffled sounding.
“Billy?”
When she speaks again, her voice has dropped almost to whisper. It grows silent for a couple seconds. He feels another pressure on his face, on the other side, and now it feels like someone is squeezing his head.
“Am I losing my mind? Billy? Your eyebrow moved, I swear to god I saw it. Please tell me I actually saw that…”
There’s a sharp squeaking noise, then he can feel his head moving slowly, from side to side. “Billy! It’s Max. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m right here and if you can hear me, can you do that again?”
It feels like coming up from underwater all of a sudden, her voice is no longer muffled—it’s louder, clearer, right next to him, and the hands on his face feel so real now. There’s a beeping noise in the background, constant and low, and he can smell, smell the vanilla shampoo she uses. Something tickles his nose lightly and that’s the instant Billy is able to suck in a deep breath. He doesn’t hear her gasp because it’s short and quiet, and his slow exhale covers it up.
Suddenly, everything feels real and opening his eyes isn’t even something he has to think about, he’s just able to do it, albeit slowly and not all the way at first because the light is too bright on his sensitive eyes. Then, the light is being blocked by red—so much red—and his nose tickles again, and suddenly, instead of just hearing her, he can see her—Max’s face in front of his own, leaning over him with wide eyes, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks.
He tries to part his lips. His mouth feels so dry, he can barely get a sound out, but he tries anyway, and her name comes out hoarse, broken sounding, more like ‘ax’ rather than ‘Max.’
“Holy shit.” Max is looking at him in complete shock before it seems to finally register. Billy isn’t completely aware of what’s going on, where he is at first, why his mouth is so dry, why he feels so goddamn tired and can’t move that easily, but he at least can recognize that he’s alive.
“Billy! You-!” Max chokes on a sob and suddenly throws herself at him, hugging him and crying loudly right next to his ear.
He starts to learn about why he’s in the hospital, that he’s been in a coma for a couple weeks after an incident at the mall. He can’t fully remember everything that happened, only bits and pieces. There’s too many blank moments that he can’t recall, but one thing that sticks with him is the feeling of being outside of himself, not feeling in control of his body.
It’s not like that now. He can’t move as well as he used to and talking is difficult at first, but he still feels like he has complete control over his own thoughts at least, and he feels like he’s in his own body again, even if it is very much broken and battered.
He also learns that his dad hasn’t been to see him since the first night they brought him in here, and Billy can’t say he’s surprised to hear that. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt like hell when he asks about him and Max tells him his dad had said things about pulling the plug if he didn’t wake up soon.
Susan comes, though, more than she did when he was in the coma, according to Max. For some reason, Steve does, too? Even though they’ve never been friends, apparently Steve has been bringing Max on occasion and has spent some days here with her, so it’s a normal thing for him to just show up now?
It’s a lot to take in all at once between everything that’s happened coupled with him having to relearn how to use his body and work through his healing injuries, and coming to terms with how he basically had died, but was brought back by some miracle. He doesn’t remember that part, dying, doesn’t remember how it felt. He wonders if it had been painful and that’s why he can’t remember it.
“Could you hear anything I talked about?” Max asks him one day as she’s sitting next to him in the hospital bed. He’s got a coloring book in his lap she brought along, absently shading in colors. It’s supposed to help his motor skills or something. He would be embarrassed by it if he didn’t secretly enjoy it. For some reason, it’s calming, therapeutic in a way.
“Kind of,” Billy mumbles.
He knows he could hear things she said, but he can’t really remember most of it, except for some of the stuff she talked about right before he woke up, about wanting things to be different and that she forgives him.
Max shifts next to him, her knee brushing against his thigh, and watches his hand move across the coloring page.
“I heard…” Billy furrows his brows a little. “You said you forgive me.”
“I do,” Max replies with no hesitation. She sounds so sure of herself, so confident when she says that, that Billy pauses and brings his gaze to look at her.
“Just ‘cause I almost died, I don’t think that means you should,” he tells her. He doesn’t know why he says that because, honestly, he wants her to forgive him deep down, wants to try to start over and be better, because he does regret all of the terrible things he’s done. At the same time, he doesn’t exactly feel deserving of forgiveness from anyone, especially not from Max.
“That’s not completely why,” she replies. “It just made me realize a lot of things, okay? Mostly how stupid we were both being, and that you regretted things you had done. That all this time you had felt bad, you just weren’t good at saying it, right?”
Billy holds her gaze for a second, then gives a slow nod. Yeah, he had, just couldn’t show that he actually felt sorry for the crappy things he’d said and done. He had been filled with too much pride and anger and his brain had been wired to believe that no one deserved apologies from him because no one ever apologized to him when they hurt him, no one ever felt bad when they did terrible things to him, so why should he? He had held onto all of that anger and let it consume him, it became the only thing he was comfortable with, but it also had clouded his judgment and buried so many other feelings. It had taken over every part of him for so long.
“Then, I forgive you, okay?”
It’s the first time anyone has said something like that to him before. Makes it hard to believe, but…he knows that Max isn’t lying to him, isn’t just saying that to make him feel better or whatever, she’s saying it because she actually means it.
He nods, slowly, and turns his gaze back down to the picture in front of him. It’s an intricate image of a peacock, with a bunch of small details to color in. He’s enjoying working on it, but it’s taking a while. His hand is starting to shake and cramp up a little from gripping the colored pencil for so long. He should probably take a break from it for now.
He leaves the blue colored pencil he was using in the middle of the book as he closes it to keep his spot and sets it to the side on the table next to his bed. Max is already helping to clean up the other pencils scattered across the bed.
It’s a while before he is able to be discharged from the hospital, and as much as Billy doesn’t enjoy being at the hospital, the thought of home scares him. He knows his dad will be there and he hasn’t seen or heard from the man at all during his stay in the hospital. Billy’s not sure what to expect from him or how he’ll be treated.
He has to rely on a crutch when it comes to walking long distances, but the day he leaves the hospital he’s more tired than usual and his body is exhausted from his physical therapy sessions, so he ends up having to use it on his way out of the hospital and on the way into the house.
His dad isn’t home when they get there because he’s at work. The stale scent of cigarettes hits him in the face the instant he steps into his bedroom. Everything is cleaned up and neatly organized, but the smell lingers. It makes him crinkle his nose. He can’t smoke anymore due to damage sustained to his lungs, but the smell doesn’t even make him want a cigarette—quite the opposite actually.
He wishes coming home felt comfortable and safe, but all Billy feels is nervousness, anxiety, and a little bit of fear.
Billy moves to sit on his bed and frowns a little because it feels different from before, more comfortable. He pushes his hand into the mattress. It feels a lot less springy.
“I switched our mattresses,” Max says from his doorway and he glances up at her as she steps into his room. “I hope that’s okay. I figured mine would be more comfortable…”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” Max smiles and wanders over to the other side of his room where something is sitting covered up by a blanket. Billy hadn’t noticed it before, he’s not sure how because it’s a decent-sized thing. “I got you something since I figured you’ll probably spend a lot of time in here recovering,” Max goes on, resting her hand on the blanket.
He hikes a brow at that, questioning. Max tugs the blanket away to reveal a small black television and a VCR beneath it. There are also a couple movie rentals sitting beside the TV, organized in a short stack. How the hell would she have been able to afford any of this? Granted, the TV looks like an older model, but still…
“I saved my allowance and birthday money,” Max explains, “and Steve took me to this thrift store where we found these things pretty cheap. It all works! This TV is better than the one in the living room, even though it’s smaller.”
She grabs a remote sitting on the top of the stack of tapes and comes to sit on the bed beside him, placing it in his hand. Billy looks at the remote for a few seconds, then brings his gaze up to meet hers. He really doesn’t feel deserving of this, not after everything, even though Max says that’s all been put behind them. He knows she had to have used up all her money to afford this and he’s never done anything remotely as nice as this before. Hell, he broke her things, her skateboard, the one thing she cared about most. He still feels like shit about that. She should have used that money for a new board, not for something like this.
“Thanks… You could have bought a new board or…anything else,” he replies, brows furrowed.
“I got a board,” Max replies, “I had a little extra and found a used one cheap, so… You can get me a better one to pay me back when you actually have a job and stuff again,” she says with a little smirk.
He nods, decides to accept the gift, despite feeling like he still doesn’t deserve it. “Yeah, I can do that,” he tells her, and he will. He doesn’t know when he’ll get to a point where he can work again, it’ll probably be a long time, but the first thing he’ll do is make sure he replaces her board with a new one. She deserves that, at least, and so much more, he thinks.
“Hey.”
The sound of Steve’s voice, followed by a gentle knock at his door, has Billy lifting his head from the book in his hands. His door is already open, so he can see the other boy. Steve gives him a small smile and takes a couple steps into his room, surveying the place.
Billy doesn’t know why Steve would be in his house, or even his bedroom. The last time he saw him was at the hospital the day before he came home. Max never said that Steve would be coming over. She’s not even home. No one is, actually, it’s just Billy here for a while by himself.
He does take notice of the VHS tapes Steve is holding in his hands.
“Max said I could just come in, that no one else would be home,” Steve explains as he pauses in his steps, just about two feet from Billy’s bed. “I figured you might have gone through the movies Max picked out, so I brought a couple more.” Steve holds up the small stack of tapes in his hands and decides to set them on a clean spot atop Billy’s bedside table.
Billy finally finds it within himself to speak. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Steve takes another glance around his room, then settles his gaze back to Billy. “How are you feeling since being out of the hospital? Better, I hope?”
“Uh, just a little, I guess,” Billy admits. It still hurts to do pretty much anything, but the pain hasn’t been as bad today so far. Sore more than anything else.
This is weird, Billy thinks, Steve standing in his bedroom like this, being nice to him, bringing him movies to watch. He can’t help but think about what he did to Steve, he still remembers it, that night at the Byers’ home almost a year ago now. He never had apologized to Steve for that.
“I thought…you didn’t like me,” Billy says, and for some reason he can’t bring himself to look at Steve when he says that, maybe too afraid to see his face when he inevitably tells him that he doesn’t.
Steve is quiet for a few seconds. “You mind if I sit?” he asks, which surprises Billy some. He shakes his head anyway.
“That’s fine,” Billy mumbles.
The mattress dips as Steve takes a seat on the edge next to where Billy’s legs are stretched out underneath the covers.
“Listen…so, I figure I should start off by saying that I know more now than I ever did before, stuff you might not really want me to know about, but when you were in the hospital, before you woke up, Max was going through a hard time. She talked to me a lot about you and some of the stuff you were going through, even about that night when we got into that stupid fight. Looking back on it, yeah, it looked all messed up, so I get it. She said you had gotten into trouble for her sneaking around and your dad’s not the greatest guy around, so it got me thinking that it probably didn’t just come down to the fact that I lied to you that night. Right?”
There’s something unnerving about Steve knowing things about him that Billy never told him, but he can’t even be angry with Max about that, not like he would have been before. She probably had thought he was going to die anyway when she said that stuff.
“It was a shitty night,” Billy admits, finally bringing himself to look at Steve again. The boy is regarding him with a soft expression, which he finds weird, but at the same time he likes seeing Steve look at him that way. “And I let my anger get the best of me, like I always do, it was just…worse. You were someone who…I guess I thought could give me a fair fight, which was what I wanted at the time, something else I could take my anger out on. Shouldn’t have done that, though. I still feel like shit about it, and I’m sorry. I wanted to say that before, but I’m not that great with saying shit like that.”
“I guess I should apologize for lying to you,” Steve replies, and that catches Billy off guard. Honestly, he never thought Steve owed him an apology for anything. “So, let’s just say the past is in the past now, yeah? You’ve proven you’re better than that since then. Hell, you almost gave your life to do the right thing. Honestly? As much as I care about those little shitheads, I’m not sure I could’ve done what you did, standing up to that thing. I’ve fought those demodogs plenty of times, but every time they scare the shit out of me and that thing…you probably don’t even remember it, huh? It was…” Steve shakes his head. “I don’t even know, man, I still have nightmares about that shit, worse than I ever have.”
He doesn’t remember it, not really, but he knows what Steve is talking about, knows there’s a lot more to Hawkins than he originally thought.
“I can’t remember much, but I don’t think I did it to be a hero or anything like that, I just…did it. Didn’t think about it, I guess.”
“I’m glad it didn’t take you out,” Steve replies. “I know you and Max haven’t had the greatest relationship, but she needs you, you know? Yeah, she’s a strong kid and all, but she’s still just a kid.”
Billy feels a lump form in his throat at Steve’s words and tries to swallow around it. He’s not sure how much he believes that Max really needs him, but Steve saying he’s glad he didn’t die, that’s…it’s too much. Because to say something like that to someone means they care, at least a little bit, and Billy’s own dad didn’t care enough to see him in the hospital. He barely even talks to Billy at home, most of the time pretends he’s not even here. After what he did to all those people, he knows there are plenty of people in this town that probably wish the opposite, that he was dead, and sometimes…sometimes Billy thinks the same thing.
“I can’t say I understand anything really,” Steve goes on when Billy doesn’t reply. “There’s a lot I don’t and never will, but you can’t beat yourself up for what that thing did, okay? It wasn’t ever you. I know you could be an asshole, but I never would think you’d want to kill someone on purpose, especially someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
Billy clenches his hands in his blanket, twisting the material between his fingers. He still blames himself for all of that, though, he doesn’t know how to not blame himself. If he had been strong enough to fight back against it, then none of that would have happened, but he wasn’t strong enough. He’s never been strong enough to fight back against the things that have hurt him the most.
He’s shocked when Steve reaches across the blanket to grab one of his hands and gently pries it away from the blanket. Billy’s embarrassed to admit he clings to the touch, doesn’t want Steve to let go, because he likes the other boy, a lot more than he should.
“I know you can’t put it all behind you that easily, be nice if you could, but it doesn’t work that way. My friend Robin once told me, what’s the point in worrying about something you have no control over? It only makes you feel worse because you can’t do anything, you know? She’s right. Doesn’t mean it’s easy to do that, but you have to try at least. Else you’re gonna drive yourself insane over it and get yourself caught in an endless cycle of hating yourself. Been there, done that lots of times. It’s not very fun. I’ve been trying to get away from that mindset, too.”
“What do you do that helps?” Billy finds himself asking. He’s still holding Steve’s hand, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind that much, strangely enough.
“Well, for starters, surround myself with people who give a shit. Find people I can talk to about stuff when I need to. Sounds dumb, but it helps. I never liked doing that before, always thought I was just bothering other people, you know? ‘Cause who would really want to listen to any of my problems?”
Billy isn’t surprised to find himself thinking that he would want to. He can understand that, though, because he feels the same way. It’s partially that and partially because he feels embarrassed to talk about his feelings.
“But the thing is, if someone actually gives a shit, then they will want to listen because they’ll want to help. Also, drowning myself in alcohol helps too, but that’s not the healthy way to go about it,” Steve says with a chuckle. “I don’t recommend that.”
Billy wants to laugh, but it would hurt too much to, so he settles for an amused scoff instead. “Couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he says, “Can’t smoke anymore either, so I guess I’m stuck having to live with my sober self.”
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” Steve muses. “Look at it this way, being in a coma is probably the easiest way to quit smoking.”
That remark elicits the closest thing to a laugh that Billy can manage.
Surprisingly, Steve sticks around for a couple hours. They decide to watch one of the movies he brought. Billy doesn’t ever remember falling asleep during it, but he does. When he wakes up in the middle of the night, there’s a note left on his bedside table. He has to turn his lamp on to read it. He doesn’t recognize the writing at all, it’s kind of sloppy, and there isn’t much to it. A phone number is scribbled in the middle of the paper and underneath it reads,
Call me if you need to talk or if you need me to bring more movies.
-Steve
“How much longer are you going to sit around here, boy?”
Billy stills at the sound of his father’s voice at his doorway. The man is leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, scrutinizing Billy in bed. He was focused on the dumb coloring book in his lap, listening to some music playing lowly from the small radio on his bedside table. It was relaxing, helping his mind stay at ease, giving his hands something to do, but now he feels the complete opposite with his father standing there looking at him like that.
“This is what you do all day?” the man asks as he comes to approach Billy’s bed and snatches the coloring book out of his lap. There’s a deep frown on Neil’s face as he looks at the page before he flicks his glare over to Billy.
He hasn’t had a confrontation with his dad since being home really, mostly because the guy has chosen to pretend that Billy isn’t around most of the time. This is seeming to come out of nowhere, he thinks.
“Sit around on your ass coloring like some five year old?” The page is torn out of the book and his dad crumples it up in his hand. “Are you trying to take advantage of this? Trying to milk it for all you can to get out of your chores? Your little sister has been picking up the slack around here for far too long, and I know damn well you can use those legs of yours.”
Although that’s true, he can walk, that doesn’t mean it’s easy, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell, or that he can stand on his feet for too long, or that he can lift heavy things.
“I’m sorry,” Billy replies and he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for, but he does anyway because he gets the feeling that’s what his dad is expecting from him. “If there’s stuff I can do, I will. I just can’t…it’s hard to stand for too long or move around a lot.”
Admitting that isn’t easy, it makes Billy feel weak and embarrassed in front of his father, but it’s the truth.
His father takes a step back, then starts toward his bedroom door. “Susan?” The man pauses at the door as he calls for her. “Bring that basket of clean clothes to Billy’s room.”
There are soft footsteps that approach his room before Susan is standing there with a clothes basket in her arms. Neil takes it from her and tells her to leave him to take care of this, and she walks away without so much as a glance at Billy. His father drops the overflowing basket of freshly dried clothes on the ground next to Billy’s bed.
“You can fold those and when you’re finished Maxine will help you put them away. As for this-” Neil holds up the coloring book he’s still got clutched in his hand, “-this shit is for kids, Billy. Are you five years old?”
Billy shakes his head. “No, sir.”
“Then there’s no reason for you to be acting like one.”
Neil stalks out of his bedroom after that with the coloring book, probably to throw it in the trash, if Billy were to guess. He sighs quietly as he stares down at the clothes basket, tries to reign in the familiar anger from before threatening to overtake him again. He doesn’t understand why it fucking matters if he isn’t hurting anything.
After he folds all the clothes, he calls for Max, who comes to help put them away. She returns to his room after taking the laundry basket away and she looks pretty pissed off, too.
“I found this in the garbage,” she says, brandishing the coloring book from before. “He’s such an ass,” she mumbles and goes to close his door behind her as she comes inside his room. She locks it for good measure and gives him the book. Billy takes it from her. Even though part of him wants to just tell her to throw it back in the trash and leave it there, he doesn’t really want to do that because it does help.
Max stands there and looks at him for a couple seconds before she asks, “Can I braid your hair?”
Billy furrows his brows at that. “Why?”
She merely shrugs. “Just somethin’ to do.”
“I guess,” he mumbles, and shifts down the bed a little to give Max enough room to sit behind him.
It feels nice at least, her fingers carding through his hair, getting the tangles out, and gently pulling on it as she braids. He decides to go back to the coloring book for a while as they listen to the music play from the radio, now that his door is locked. He has to start on a new page because the one he was working on is gone, but that doesn’t bother him all that much.
His strength comes back slowly with time as the worst of his injuries get better. Billy finds himself sitting in a warm bath, trying to relax, now that he’s able to sit in a bath. It helps, not just his tense muscles, but mentally as well. If the heat doesn’t bother him, then he knows he’s okay, it’s comforting.
He usually takes these long baths at night, though, after everyone else has gone to sleep so his dad isn’t on his ass about wasting water or taking up too much time in the bathroom. It’s quiet, too. Sometimes he’ll bring his radio in to play softly to fill the silence and other times he welcomes it. Tonight, he has opted for silence as he leans back against the wall with his eyes closed.
Now that Billy is able to get around easier and walk longer distances, he’s started thinking about maybe getting a job somewhere around town, something that would be easy on him physically, someplace quiet preferably, where he doesn’t have to deal with too many people constantly. The idea is scary, putting himself out there for people to see and talk to him again after everything that’s happened. He hasn’t gone into town once since all of that, and he’s afraid to. He doesn’t want to deal with the stares or people saying shit to him.
He doesn’t have a car, though, that’s the thing. No way to get himself to and from work unless Susan lets him borrow her car. She might for work at least. He would probably have to find somewhere part-time to be able to use her car because he doesn’t think he could use it often enough for a full-time job.
The problem is…will anyone want to hire him?
Billy doesn’t have his full strength back and he knows he can’t work a job right now that requires him to be on his feet the whole time, so that rules out a lot of places. He doesn’t exactly have any connections to people except maybe Steve, but the video store is likely one of those places he has to rule out because of the standing issue. He doesn’t know what to do, honestly.
When he thinks about it, the one place that comes to mind that seems kind of perfect is the public library. He’s been in there enough to know it’s always quiet and never very busy. It seems like an up and down job from what he’s seen of the people who work there. Sometimes they’re shelving books and sometimes they’re just sitting at the desk, answering the phone or checking out books. Wouldn’t be a difficult job, he doesn’t think, and he likes books. He could give recommendations to people and stuff like that if that’s something they’d look for in someone.
He has no idea if they’re even hiring. Maybe he could ask Steve to find out for him.
Speaking of Steve, ever since the boy gave him his phone number, they’ve been talking more. Not every day, but a couple times a week usually. Steve stops over at least once a week, maybe more often if he’s not busy, to hang out. It’s been really nice. He still can’t believe someone like Steve would want to be friends with him.
As he thinks about the other boy, he remembers that day in his room when Steve let him hold his hand and wonders why he let Billy do that. They haven’t done anything like that since other than Steve maybe sitting a little too close to him at times.
He wishes he could hold his hand again like that, touch him, but when he thinks too much about that kind of stuff he’s wracked with an overwhelming feeling, something akin to guilt. Like it’s wrong for him to be thinking these things about Steve, or about any boy, really. The feeling always makes his chest constrict, his throat tighten, sometimes has him on the verge of tears because it just doesn’t seem fucking fair.
Steve will never be something he can have anyway, so it shouldn’t get to him as much as it does. Mostly, he’s bothered by the notion that he’s not normal, far from normal, especially considering everything that’s happened, but he’s always been this way his whole life. He can’t help it, he’s tried. If these thoughts and feelings come so naturally to him, shouldn’t that make it okay? But then why isn’t it? Why is it such a problem to everyone else who isn’t like him?
He always thought maybe it would go away, feeling like this, but it hasn’t, only seems to have gotten worse the older he gets. It will likely never go away, this is just who he is, and…he hates it. Doesn’t want to be this way. Because it would easier, if he could actually bring himself to have feelings for any of those girls he did things with. Easier to find a girl to settle down with, a simple life. Boring, but simple, with no judgment or fear of being himself.
He’s never felt as big of a fuck up and failure as he does right now, honestly. This is definitely an all time low for him. Billy’s heard about things like depression and anxiety and stuff, never looked much into it, never thought about it. He started reading a book the other day he asked Max to pick up for him from the library and he thinks he might be dealing with depression at the very least with how he’s been feeling lately. It sucks worse than any other feeling he’s ever had.
The act of getting out of bed most days is a huge feat. Even sitting in the bath like this is hard sometimes, and sometimes that’s all he can do. Sometimes he can’t bring himself to wash his hair or his body or shave because it’s all too much, too hard. Everything is too hard now.
His dad is on his case more than ever because he has to be told to do things all the time. When it comes to his chores he finds himself half-assing them only to get them out of the way as quickly as he can so he can go back to lying in his bed doing nothing or sleeping.
Apparently there’s medicine he can take for this, is what his therapist has told him, ‘cause he has to see one of those now after the mall incident. She was the one who brought up the possibility of depression in the first place, why he had Max get that book for him.
Even now, he’s still stubborn, doesn’t want to take medicine, especially if it might make him feel weird. He kept thinking he can eventually push through all of this, maybe once he’s healed up more. Even though he is healed more, that hasn’t made him feel better at all.
What else is an option for him? He can’t think of anything. He copes the best he can with what he has and it’s still not enough.
He doesn’t feel like himself anymore, far from it, and every day begins to feel harder than the last the longer this goes on.
He’s going to have to ask about the medicine during his next appointment. He won’t be able to work anyway if he can’t pull himself out of bed to go.
He’s prescribed an anti-depressant to take every morning, and apparently it’s going to take a couple weeks for it to actually start helping. Billy isn’t happy to hear that, but there’s not anything he can do about it, so.
As the weeks pass, it gets easier to get out of bed every day and motivate himself to do work around the house. Mentally, he’s kind of numb a lot of the time, but he doesn’t see it as a bad thing because he doesn’t get angry anymore. That is almost a relief, actually. To not be angry all the time feels nice. He also stops over thinking, doesn’t get those racing thoughts anymore, and things that usually get to him don’t bother him anymore. He stops worrying about what other people are going to think about him and gets a move on trying to get a job at the library.
He has to now because once his dad found out he’s having to take an anti-depressant, he’s decided he isn’t going to pay for the medication, Billy has to. So, if he wants to fucking feel normal and actually be able to do shit again, he has to be able to keep taking this medicine.
Lucky for him, the library is hiring a part-time reference position and even luckier for him, they’re willing to hire him on. Maybe they feel sorry for him, he isn’t sure, and he doesn’t care because he has a job again.
The job is the easiest job he’s ever had in his life. He checks people’s books out, answers simple questions, gives the occasional recommendation here and there, helps people find books, shelves on occasion, and sometimes has to show people how to use the microfilm readers. The majority of his shifts are spent sitting on his ass reading a book or writing in between all of those things.
His first paycheck is small, but it’s just enough to cover his next prescription, gas, and a new skateboard for Max. Because he promised that to her and he intends to keep that promise.
“How’s it going on this busy day?”
Steve’s voice distracts Billy from his book and he glances up to see the boy grinning down at him from the other side of the reference desk. It’s the first time Steve has come here since Billy started working. He supposes he isn’t surprised to see the other boy because Steve knows he works here.
Billy glances around the totally empty room and smirks as he replies, “Riveting. I haven’t gotten up from this chair in three hours.”
“Damn, dude, I’m jealous.” Steve grabs a random chair and pulls it up to the desk to take a seat. “Family Video is definitely better than Scoops, but I’d kill for a job where I get to sit and do nothing all day.”
“I don’t always do nothing,” Billy replies. “Sometimes I shelve a book or two.”
Steve snorts at that. “Last night I had to re-alphabetize and shift the entire store,” he says with a sigh. “It was a nightmare. I dropped a huge stack of tapes all over the floor more than once. Robin laughed at me and didn’t even bother to help.”
Billy chuckles at that mental image. “Maybe don’t take on more than you can handle, pretty boy.”
Steve shoots him a glare, but it’s half-hearted. “I can handle a stack of tapes just fine.”
“Don’t sound like it.”
“God, you both suck.” Billy’s grin widens. “So,” Steve starts, changing the subject, an easy smile on his face. “I found out something the other day.”
Billy hikes a brow in question. “What?”
“Your birthday is next week.”
“Max told you.” Steve nods. Who else would it be? Billy isn’t surprised in the slightest.
“Yeah, so my question is this—if you could have anything for your birthday, what would you want?”
Is Steve insinuating he wants to buy Billy something for his birthday? Absolutely unheard of. While the thought makes him feel good, he also doesn’t like the idea of people spending money on him.
Billy just shrugs. “Nothin’.”
“Bullshit. Everyone wants something,” Steve replies. “I could take a guess, but I’m pretty horrible at giving gifts.”
“What would you get me?” Billy asks, because he’s curious to know now. Steve leans his elbow on the counter and props his cheek in his hand.
“I dunno. Maybe a pack of hair ties and some terrible heavy metal tape and, uh…”
“Hair ties?” Billy questions with a light chuckle.
“Yeah, you wear your hair up all the time now,” Steve says, waving his other hand toward Billy’s head, at his messy bun. “And if you’re anything like Nancy, she lost hair ties all the fucking time.” What a strange observation, Billy thinks. Somehow, it makes that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach grow stronger.
“’Cause it’s too long,” he replies, “and just gets in my face all the time and shit. It’s annoying.”
“Thought you liked your hair long,” Steve replies.
“To an extent.”
The other boy hums. “Then get a haircut?” he states, like that’s the obvious solution, and it is. But a haircut requires money that Billy won’t have until his next paycheck in two weeks.
“Plannin’ on it,” Billy simply replies.
Steve smacks the counter top. “Your birthday. What do you want?”
“Like I said, nothing.”
He gets an eye roll for that. Steve studies him for a couple seconds. “You have a tattoo, right?”
“Yeah…” Billy isn’t sure how that is relevant to this conversation at all.
“Want another?”
“Probably one day.” Not anytime soon considering tattoos are expensive and he isn’t going to have money for something like that.
“Cool. Then, how about I take you to get a tattoo and that will be your present?”
What? Steve grins when Billy doesn’t answer right away and is just looking at him like he’s insane. “I can get you hair ties too, if you need them,” he adds as an afterthought.
Billy can’t believe he gave in so easily. Probably because Steve wouldn’t leave him alone about getting him a gift and now that he knows another tattoo is something Billy really wants, he won’t drop it. So, now they’re on their way to the same tattoo shop Billy went to for his first one.
He wants a wrist tattoo and he has all of a week to think up what he actually wants to get. He spends some time during his shifts flipping through art books to see if anything in particular catches his eye.
The pieces that capture his attention the most are ones filled with nature. He’s not sure why he likes them, but he does, so it gets him thinking about if he’d want something related to that. Not like a flower, but something else. He finds a drawing of a creepy dark tree with winding branches sticking out in all different directions, and he thinks that could be cool. Creepy tree branches wrapped around his wrist. He’s never seen anything like that before. Also, if he got it on the same side as his skull, he could start to fill in the rest over time and have a full sleeve on one side, something he’s thought about doing eventually.
He decides to bring the book along with him that has the picture of the tree to see if an artist at the shop could draw something up like he’s imagining in his head.
The tattoo artist who works with him is a pretty cool chick and when he shows her the image and tells her what he’s thinking, she seems to have a good idea and runs right with it. They have to wait a bit for her to come back with a sketch and it’s pretty much exactly what Billy was imagining, so he goes with it.
“Did your first one hurt?” Steve asks while they’re waiting for her to return.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Billy says and glances down at his right wrist. “This one might be worse. I’ve always heard wrist tattoos can be pretty painful.”
“I’ve never really thought about getting a tattoo,” Steve admits. “I don’t know what I’d want to have permanently on my body for the rest of my life.”
It’s then that his tattoo artist returns, ready for him to come back with her. Steve tags along because he’s curious and wants to watch. Billy isn’t very nervous about it, but his hand is shaking when he holds it out. It just does that now. Nerve damage. Since it’s a simple tattoo and doesn’t take up that much space, it goes fairly quickly. It does hurt more than the first one he got, but it’s nothing that he can’t handle for the short amount of time it takes her to finish.
“It’s creepy,” Steve comments once she’s done, “but pretty cool.” That’s what he was going for, so Billy’s happy with it.
Steve takes them to a local diner afterward, insisting on buying Billy a birthday dinner, which Billy thinks is so lame and corny, but secretly it makes him feel good that someone cares enough to go through all this for his dumb birthday. He tells Billy to get whatever he wants, so Billy opts for breakfast food even though it’s, like, six o’clock. Bacon sounds mighty good to him right about now.
“So, how’s everything been goin’ on up here?” Steve asks, gesturing to his own head, and Billy understands because Steve is always checking in on him to see how he’s doing. It’s weird to have people asking him these things now when no one ever did before, and sometimes it’s hard to talk about, but it seems to be getting easier. So much so that Billy has told Steve about the anti-depressants, probably why he’s asking him that question.
Truthfully, he’s felt okay recently. As much as he can anyway. A lot better than before now that he has established a routine again and can get out of his bed every day. The worst of his feelings come out when he wakes up from a bad nightmare because the nightmares are always about that time when he was being possessed.
“Fine,” Billy mumbles as he picks at the wrap on his wrist, covering his tattoo.
“It’s weird,” Steve says and leans against the table across from Billy, “to think how different things were just a year ago.”
Billy can’t refute that, things are a lot different now, he’s different now. Maybe not so much because how he is now has always been a part of him, just shoved deep down and concealed by so much anger and rage. To everyone else, he’s very different because that’s all they could see before.
“You think it’s better or worse now?” Steve asks, looking at him curious.
“Both? I guess,” Billy mumbles. He pauses for a couple seconds as their waitress returns with their food, then goes on after she leaves. “In some ways things are better, other ways, worse.”
“Yeah, all the Mind Flayer stuff is probably the worst, right?” Steve asks and Billy nods.
“I think it’s getting better. A little bit anyway.”
Steve hums and tosses a fry in his mouth. “So, what’s better?”
That question makes Billy pause for a second. He takes a small bite of his bacon, chews and swallows it before he responds. As embarrassing as this is to admit, it’s the truth, and he’s trying to be honest about how he feels more and be better, so he wants to say this even if it’s hard to.
“Max,” he starts off and turns his gaze down to his plate. “And, uh, I guess my whole family? Well, my dad is still an ass, but not as bad as before most of the time. And, um…you, too.”
“I’m an ass too, but not as bad?” Steve asks and Billy chuckles as he shakes his head.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He sighs a little because this is hard. He knows what he wants to say, but the words don’t want to leave his mouth. He still can’t look at Steve when he does eventually bring himself to be able to form words again. “Before…I never really had anyone, I guess. I was friends with Tommy, but he wasn’t exactly a real friend. Now I have more than I used to, and I guess I don’t mind it.”
He takes another bite of bacon so he doesn’t have to say anything else for a bit.
“Oh.” Steve sounds like he understands. “So, what you’re saying is, it’s better because you have me as a friend, is that it?” The boy’s tone is teasing when he asks that because he knows Billy enough now that he can understand what Billy means and wants to say when he can’t actually say it. So, Steve knows he’s right, basically.
Billy scoffs. “You think that highly of yourself, princess?”
“Well, you know, I’ve been told I’m a ‘pretty good guy,’ quite a bit, so yeah, I do.” Steve chuckles lightly and Billy is finally able to lift his gaze to look at him again. “Also been told I’m the coolest.”
A snort escapes Billy then. “By who? Your little nerd pack?”
“By Robin,” Steve says confidently and Billy shakes his head. He doesn’t know Robin as well as Steve, but he’s met her a couple times now and he’s pretty certain she would never say Steve is ‘cool’.
“Dingus…that’s usually her nickname for you, right?” Billy asks, shooting Steve an amused grin. “So, hard for me to believe she would use cool in the same sentence as you.”
Steve crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat. “I’m telling you she said it. One time.”
“Oh yeah?” Billy quirks a brow. “When? And what did she say exactly?”
“That, uh…” Steve is looking away from him, up at the ceiling, and very obviously failing to come up with a good response. Billy’s teasing grin widens.
“Maybe I could believe someone calling you cool, but definitely not the coolest,” Billy says, which has Steve’s gaze snapping back down to him. “That’s my compromise.”
“Then who do you suppose is the coolest if I’m not?” Steve asks.
“Easy answer,” Billy shrugs and licks his lips as he continues to grin at the boy across from him. “It’s me, obviously.”
Steve just rolls his eyes at him and calls him a dork.
Steve invites him out with Robin one evening, but refuses to tell Billy where it is they’re going. All he says is that Billy needs to make sure he bundles up for the cold and that’s about it. Billy still doesn’t have proper winter attire, to be honest. He should have saved money from when he was life guarding to buy shit like that, but at the time he wanted a tattoo more and it wasn’t cold then, but now it is and all he has is his leather jacket. He can layer up under it, but he’s not sure that’s going to help much considering he doesn’t have gloves or a hat.
He does the best he can with what he has and hopes it’ll be enough. He’s not convinced that it is when Steve picks him up and he slides into the passenger side of his car and Steve tells him he’s going to freeze his balls off like that.
“Alright. Quick stop before we get Robin,” Steve announces. “You need gloves at the very least.”
That’s how they end up at the general store where Steve buys Billy a pair of black gloves and a hat to keep his ears warm. He still has no idea where they’re going, even after they pick Robin up. Wherever it is, it’s not in Hawkins because Steve is jumping onto the highway.
He sees a sign for the zoo shortly after they get off an exit and Steve is driving in the direction, which just serves to confuse him more because why are they going to the zoo at six o’clock in the evening when it’s dark?
Well, it’s certainly not that dark, considering all of the Christmas lights everywhere, Billy notices when they pull into the parking lot.
“What is this?” he asks.
“Festival of Lights,” replies Robin from the back seat. “It’s a Christmas light show.”
Of all things Billy was expecting, this certainly is not it.
Steve pays their way in and there’s not as many people as Billy would have thought, maybe because it’s a week day and not the weekend. It’s a lot of walking to look at all the lights, but Billy has reached a point now where walking is something he can do relatively normal again, now that he’s mostly healed. Steve seems to stick close to him the entire time, though, and Billy wonders if it’s because he’s worried or something else.
“Are you cold?” Steve asks him after a shiver runs down his spine. They’ve been here for nearly an hour, that’s how long it’s taken to walk through the entire path, and they’re almost on their way back to the start where the gift shop is, along with some food vendors. Billy is a little chilly now. His hands are okay, but his face is freezing and his jacket isn’t keeping him as warm as he had hoped.
“I’ll live,” he replies, instead of admitting the obvious.
The last thing he expects is for Steve to slide his arm around his shoulders. The sudden touch nearly makes Billy jump, then he starts to feel a little anxious because there are people around and Robin is on the other side of Steve.
“Told you to bundle up,” Steve chastises him.
“You guys are cute,” Robin comments from Steve’s left and if Billy’s face wasn’t red from the cold it would be from the embarrassment he’s beginning to feel. He can’t bring himself to push Steve away because he is warm and the feeling of his arm around his shoulder feels too nice.
“We should get hot chocolate,” the girl goes on, as if it’s not a huge deal or anything that Steve has his arm around him like he’s some chick. “And donuts! I saw some when we first came in. Oh, and I wanna check out the gift shop before we go, too.”
Steve doesn’t drop his arm until they reach the vendors and he has to reach for his wallet to pay. Billy is disappointed by the loss of his warmth, but the hot chocolate does a good job at warming him up, and once they’re inside the gift shop, it’s a lot warmer and he’s no longer cold.
Robin is busy looking at all the different animal plushes, so she’s not paying them any mind.
“What’s your favorite animal?” Steve asks him, all of sudden.
Billy is taking a sip of his hot chocolate, so he doesn’t answer until after he swallows. “Bears.”
“Really? What kind?”
“All of them,” he says with a chuckle.
“But, like, if you had to pick between a polar bear or a grizzly bear, which one would you choose?”
“I guess polar bear,” Billy decides.
“Okay, cool.”
He doesn’t know why Steve cares about that, not until they’re getting ready to leave. He’s standing outside the gift shop with Robin waiting on Steve, who wanted to pick up a lizard plush for Dustin.
When Steve does finally come out with a bag in hand, likely housing the lizard plush, his other hand is clutching a goddamn stuffed polar bear. He grins at Billy and hands it to him, and Billy finds himself reaching out to take it with his shaky hand, even though he thinks it’s really corny.
“I’m not some little kid,” Billy mumbles after.
“You don’t have to be a little kid to accept a stuffed animal,” Steve replies. “Robin bought one.”
“Admittedly, mine is cooler,” Robin chimes in with her shark plush, “but the polar bear is really cute.”
“My bear would eat your stupid shark,” Billy replies, which has Robin scoffing.
“Yeah, right. Steve, who do you think would win in a fight, a polar bear or a shark?”
“Uh…those are two completely different animals,” Steve says. “I pick neither.”
“No, you gotta choose.”
“Nope. I’m not picking either. I don’t need either of you using it against me.”
Robin sighs. “Boo. You’re no fun.”
They drop Robin off at home first and once Billy is left alone with Steve in the car, now on their way to Billy’s house, he feels nervous?
This night has been fun, actually, but also weird, like with Steve putting his arm around him and buying him this bear from the gift shop. He doesn’t know what to make of all that, if any of it means anything. He doesn’t think it can, as much as he wishes it did. He can’t imagine Steve doing these things and meaning anything more by them. He’s just being a good friend. That’s what Billy tells himself, and he tries not to think about how Steve didn’t buy Robin her shark and he didn’t put his arm around Robin either…
“You alright?” Steve’s voice rouses him from his thoughts. Steve is already looking at him concerned when Billy glances over.
“Uh, yeah, just tired, I guess,” he replies. It’s not exactly a lie, he is feeling a little tired.
“Oh, explains why you’re over there being so quiet,” Steve replies. “You work tomorrow?” Billy shakes his head. He doesn’t have another shift for a couple days actually. “I know it’s kinda sudden, but would you wanna stay at my place tonight? We could hang out for a bit. Or if you’re really tired, I can take you home.”
It’s not the first time Steve has invited him over, but this would be the first time Billy would be staying overnight if he says yes. He’s not so tired that he’ll pass out anytime soon or anything like that, and honestly, he’s had such a good time tonight with Steve that going back to this own house would be disappointing. There’s no way he can turn down Steve’s offer.
“Sure.”
Steve puts on a movie for them to watch. There’s not much else to do, but Billy doesn’t mind this at all. He’s very warm and comfortable beneath the fuzzy blanket Steve gave him, and he’s also wearing Steve’s clothes to have something more comfortable to lounge and sleep in than his jeans. Steve, himself, is sitting not too far away from him either. Closer than would be comfortable for Billy if it were anybody else, to be honest. He’s completely surrounded by the other boy’s sweet scent, so it’s hard to keep his mind off of him during the movie.
He keeps chancing glances over at Steve because he can’t help it. Steve catches him one time, but merely gives him a soft smile, and doesn’t question it. Billy has to whip his head away and conceal a very noticeable flush.
Maybe it’s just him, but it feels like Steve has gotten closer to him over the course of the movie, very slowly inching his way over. Billy tries to convince himself that he’s imagining things, tries to focus on watching the movie and only the movie, nothing else. But then Steve is leaning his shoulder into Billy and he can’t. He can’t focus on anything but the feeling of Steve’s shoulder pressed into his own and the stupid fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach the touch elicits.
Steve’s arm is moving against his own until he’s sliding it around Billy’s shoulders again. That intense feeling in his stomach is just getting even more overwhelming because Steve can’t use the excuse that Billy is cold, he can’t be doing that for any reason other than because he wants to.
“Hey…”
Steve’s voice has his heart racing in his chest. Billy can barely look at him. He knows his face is probably red right now and he just…can’t.
“Is this okay?” Steve asks. Billy also can’t speak, so he settles for giving a short nod as a response instead.
At his affirmation, he feels Steve’s hold tighten just a bit and Steve shuffles closer until there’s pretty much no space between them. Definitely full on cuddling right now, there’s no denying it. How the hell is he supposed to keep watching this movie? What the fuck is Steve’s plan here?
The worst part is that Billy is so comfortable like this that all he wants to do is completely lean into Steve’s hold and rest his head against his shoulder or something. He isn’t sure if he can do that, if Steve would be okay with that, or if it would make things weirder than they already are.
The arm around his shoulder moves again, Steve slipping his hand down so that his forearm is hanging over Billy’s chest.
“Hey.”
Steve’s voice is quieter but closer when he speaks again. Billy turns his head toward him to find Steve’s face is literally right there, and he knew Steve was close, but this close? Holy fuck. Billy almost feels like he can’t breathe for a second. This is way closer than he’s ever been to Steve before.
“For the record, I’m really glad you’re okay,” Steve says and his eyes are flickering all around Billy’s face. He seems, maybe…nervous? “Wouldn’t be the same without you, you know?”
Where is all of this coming from? Billy doesn’t know how to respond to any of that. His throat feels too tight.
“And, uh, I wouldn’t have gotten to do this,” Steve finishes.
Billy’s brain catches up with what’s happening a split-second before it does, before Steve makes a move and presses in closer to him. His heart is in his throat and he’s nervous as hell and maybe a little scared too, but this is what he wanted, right? He can’t believe it’s happening, but it is, and there’s no way he’s pulling away from Steve, so he doesn’t and lets Steve kiss him.
It’s nothing messy or deep, just a soft short peck on the lips, and is followed by another short peck when Steve realizes that Billy is more than okay with this. He does it a couple more times until both of his hands are on either side of Billy’s face and he’s pressing his lips over more than just Billy’s lips, pressing his lips against his cheek and his forehead and the tip of his nose.
It’s almost too much, he knows his face is beet red right now from all of the attention. This is different, not what he expected. No one has ever treated him this way, and even though he is embarrassed, he lets Steve do it because it feels nice.
Steve’s words repeat in his head, how he’s glad that Billy is okay, and for once, Billy actually feels similarly. Also glad that he is okay and alive because otherwise this wouldn’t be happening currently. He wouldn’t know what it feels like to kiss Steve or what it feels like to touch him or to know there are people who care about him. He wouldn’t have gotten this second chance to try to fix things and be better than he was before. He wouldn’t have any of that, and to think about not having this…makes Billy realize he has so much more than he ever imagined.