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The sounds from the Camaro stop and the lights turn off, leaving the street extremely dark apart from the spaced out lights. Billy's keys jingle as he takes them out of the ignition and shoves them in his pocket. He steps out of the car and closes the door, looking up at the house he's parked in front of.
It's Harrington's house. He hadn't been at school the past few days. That wasn't like Steve—he usually showed up at least to the basketball court, if not class. Billy definitely didn't seem like the type to care, since he came off as a bully to Steve, but he did. Why else would he be there? He would never verbally admit it, though showing up at his house was more than enough to show it.
…The house is dark. Completely. Like nobody's home.
Billy knew that Steve had to be there, though. There's no way he'd be on a vacation. Everyone knew that Steve's parents were absent. "At work."
Other possibilities crossed Billy's mind of where he may be, but he'd check those places after trying here first.
Billy walked up to the door and stared at it, his anxieties kicking in at the worst moment possible. He knew he struggled with properly caring for someone—how was he going to do this? What if he fucked up and made Steve feel worse, or scared, or—
He takes a deep breath and tries to let go of that negativity, of the anger that he's bottled, whatever is left in him that could make him fail. As much as he can, at least. It's hard. He knows it, a lot of people know it.
He knocks on the door, "Harrington!" He yells, in case the knocks weren't loud enough. He tries to use a tone that isn't frightening or standoff-ish, but he sighs in annoyance at himself when he realizes it one-hundred percent came off wrong.
It doesn't matter, though. He waits a bit, and the door doesn't open. He tries knocking and yelling a couple more times before he realizes Steve is either not coming out or not home.
He walks around the house into Steve's backyard. Even the backyard is completely dark. Everything shut off, even the pool lights. He looks up at the house from this side. One of the window's blinds is open. He can't see that much from it, but a lamp is on, so Steve being home is confirmed. The window is closed, so yelling has no purpose, most likely. So Billy decides to climb up to the window and probably scare the living shit out of Steve.
After a couple minutes of struggling to get up onto the roof and to the window, he reaches up to tap on it lightly, trying his best not to scare Steve.
He sees Steve sitting on his bed. Slowly, Steve turns to look at the window. He's clearly surprised and quickly turns away, bringing his hands up to his face to hide evidence of crying. Then he gets up and opens the window. His attempt to hide evidence of crying was terrible. His face is red and his eyes are puffy. Not only that, but it's clear he hasn't been properly taking care of himself. He looks like a mess, in short.
"Why are you trying to break into my house, Billy?"
"I'm not. You didn't answer the door."
"That means I don't want you to come in."
"Let me in, Harrington. I didn't drive here and climb your roof for fucking nothing."
With a sigh and an eye roll, Steve opens the window fully and moves out of the way. Instead of helping Billy through.
Billy tries his best to go through the window gracefully, but he ends up falling onto Steve's floor. He props himself up to sit against Steve's bed and looks up at him, "What's up, Steve? I've been worried about you."
Being called Steve instead of Harrington was enough to surprise him—but hearing "I've been worried about you," from Billy of all people pushed that surprise even further. He shuts the window and closes the blinds before sitting down across from Billy, pressing his back against the wall, "Billy Hargrove worried about someone? About me? This isn't real."
"It's real. Talk."
"It's nothing, really. It's just been rough…"
"It clearly isn't nothing if it bothers you enough to not come to school."
"It's surprising to see you be so caring, Billy. What happened to you?"
"Shut up. Don't make it about me. I'm here for you."
Steve falls silent, trying to fully process the conversation. He turns away from Billy. His eyes welled up with tears as his thoughts came for him again. He wanted to speak so badly, but he didn't want to cry. Not in front of Billy.
"Steve," Billy said, surprisingly soft.
Steve looked over to him, hesitantly.
"It's okay to cry. You can cry."
Steve still held his tears. They sat in silence for a little bit longer, until Steve looked up from his lap and at Billy and spoke, "I just feel bad. I feel like…" Steve's voice breaks as he talks. He pauses every once in a while to try and hold back tears.
Billy says nothing, even though he wants to encourage Steve to let it out. He just listens.
"...I feel like I'm not good enough. Like I let everyone down. A-And," It's clear It's beginning to get harder for him to hold the tears back, "I can't do anything r-right. I ju-just fuck up everything. And, and—I just.. It's all my fault," Steve plants his head into his hands as a sob escapes his lips. He tries not to cry, he tries so hard he struggles to breathe.
Billy crawls over to Steve, putting a hand on his shoulder and caressing him with his thumb, "It's okay, Steve. Let it out," He says softly, almost whispering.
Steve allows himself to sob, leaning in toward Billy's chest. Slowly his head presses against it. Billy wraps his arms around Steve, one hand placed on his shoulder blade while the other gives calming caresses up and down his back. Eventually, Steve's sobbing calmed down a bit and became softer. Billy let out shushes to soothe him. It helped, and Steve calmed down into quiet sniffles.
"Steve… I'm so sorry," Billy spoke, "I'm sorry you feel this way. You are good enough. You deserve to be treated better. Nothing is your fault, whatever it is you're thinking. Nothing can be your fault, you're far too perfect—" Billy cut himself off and froze. He's… said a bit too much. Oh, but fuck it. Maybe it'll help.
"You're perfect in my eyes. I don't know how other people can't see it. You're funny, talented, handsome… you light up every room you walk into… Sorry. Sorry." Is this uncomfortable?
The silence between them is painful for Billy, worry of making Steve uncomfortable or grossed out filling his thoughts. Though, wouldn't Steve have moved away in disgust?
"You're the only one who thinks that way, then. That I'm perfect," Steve says, breaking the silence.
"Then I'm lucky. That I get to see all of you."
Steve wraps his arms around Billy in a hug. He snuggles his face into Billy's chest, making himself more comfortable. Muffled, he speaks, "Thank you… I know I didn't say much, but just telling someone that little bit was… refreshing."
"Is there more you want to say?"
"...No, no… not right now. It's all… jumbled up in my head."
"I'll be here. If you ever need to let it out."
There's silence again as they sit and embrace each other. Steve breaks it after a couple minutes by whining, "Billy…"
"Yeah?"
There's a pause, like Steve is struggling to speak again, "Uhh… Can… we move onto the bed? My back is hurting…"
Billy sees no reason to break their hug. He simply picks Steve up. Surprised, Steve lifts his head up and looks up at Billy. There's a new look in his eyes when they meet—his gray-blue eyes are softer, loving? Steve doesn't really know how to explain it, but it makes him feel happy and warm and it makes his heart flutter. Embarassed by how it makes him feel, he digs his face back into Billy's chest. Billy sits up on the bed, back against the pillows. He holds Steve on top of him. Steve adjusts to be more comfortable. Billy decides to kick the blanket up and put it over them. Steve snuggles in, enjoying the warmth.
"Do you like me?" Steve asks, the real question. Not an excuse this time.
"Could I make it any clearer for you, Harrington?"
"Shut up…"
Billy chuckles. His right hand finds its way up into Steve's hair. It's surprisingly soft. He plays with it lovingly and gives occasional head scratches. They're cuddling in silence for a while, listening to the crickets chirp and the wind howl.
An obviously sleep-drunk Steve speaks, "Biiiillyyy…"
"Yeah, sleepyhead?"
Billy gets no reply. Steve passed out in his arms, whatever he wanted to say was left unfinished.
"Ah… well…" Billy whispers to himself. He continues to play with Steve's soft hair before he falls asleep, holding him.
Billy leaves before Steve can wake up, tucking him into bed comfortably...