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Billy has never actually say ‘I love you’ back.
Steve's never heard him at least mutter those three, meaningful words.
Steve doesn’t struggle to freely and lovingly say them to Billy – he is a helpless romantic. He’s always been.
When Steve’s feeling something, he likes to word it out. Whatever it is. Wether he wants to express his silly affection to Billy or if he just wants to express some resentment.
Because, God knows Billy knows how to get on his nerves and fuck up sometimes.
Steve's never struggled with words. He’s a really outgoing and extroverted person. So, if he wants to tell Billy how much he stupidly loves him; he will. Wether Steve breathlessly whispers it in the middle of them fucking and Billy’s dick is deep inside Steve, or when they’re just watching a movie and Billy’s is massaging his scalp or when they are at a party and Steve drunkenly clings to Billy and murmurs against his mouth that sweet little confession that he often makes.
Steve doesn’t struggle, not at all.
But, Billy does.
And Steve understands why. He understands why Billy isn’t good with feelings and with communicating. He understands why he has trouble voicing his thoughts and showing his true emotions. He knows why. He knows why Billy can’t just say those three simple three words.
Billy used to get punished for expressing how he felt. Vulnerability meant an angry father who tormented his own son. Billy.
Billy hates vulnerability.
Again, Steve knows why.
He knows what Billy went through.
So, Steve never gets upset or worried when he tells Billy those I love you's and he doesn’t get one back. He keeps saying them even if he doesn’t get an equal answer. And he will keep saying them.
Because that’s just how he feels. He loves Billy Hargrove. That fucking, hard-headed asshole.
Steve knows it will happen eventually. Or, maybe it won’t. Maybe Billy will never find himself capable of saying it back.
He knows too how Billy feels. How reciprocating that same emotion Steve feels is. How Billy’s blue eyes flutter and fill with emotion when Steve tells him. Billy is so expressive with his eyes. How he holds Steve tighter and kisses him ardently. How he seems to get awkward and sometimes jokes around, calling Steve a pussy with no heat behind those words.
But, yes, Steve knows how Billy truly feels. Steve knows Billy feels just the same for him.
Steve expresses that love with words, he’s good with words.
But Billy expressed it with actions, he’s good with wordless actions.
Billy does express that love and admiration to Steve, his way, obviously.
Billy always does things his way.
And Steve may be more fond of Billy Hargrove's way of declaring love than the traditional one.
Billy isn’t a bad person; he is just a broken young man.
And, Steve knows this. Steve understands Billy. Steve accepts Billy with all his flaws and emotional issues. Steve loves him just as he is. Steve’s always telling Billy that and Billy struggles too express it back verbally.
That's why Billy chose to constantly show his passionate appreciation for Steve by doing silly little things that translate to discreet, wordless declarations of love. In his own way, of course.
It’s always the little things.
They may seem meaningless but they mean the whole word to Steve.
Like that time, in an early morning, Steve was moaning moodily about how he was craving chocolate covered strawberries and he got annoyed with Billy because he was scrolling on his phone, apparently sleepily ignoring Steve, Steve went back to sleep after rolling his eyes like a brat.
But Billy arrived from work in the afternoon with a large box of chocolate covered strawberries from that overpriced pastry shop Steve likes.
Billy had been listening to Steve all along. He always does.
Or they way that Billy wakes up early in the morning to turn on the heater because Steve likes and prefers to shower with warm water even if the Californian heat is scorching outside.
It's always the little things that set Steve’s word on burning fire.
They don’t live together. Just yet.
They've been dating for a 6 months and still don’t feel quite ready to move in together. Steve feels like it’s too soon and Billy still is getting the hang of commitment and a real, adult relationship.
Even though they almost practically do live together. They do have their own apartments but they often find themselves spending days in each other’s places. They’ve got clothes and hygiene products in each other’s closets and bathrooms. It’s odd when they’re not spending the days or nights together. When they sleep in their own, in their own apartment it’s the result of an argument that they happened to had or just different work schedules getting in their way.
But apart from that, they pretty much spend all of their time together, as if they shared one home.
Although, Billy chooses to stay over at Steve’s. Billy’s place is nice but he prefers Steve’s – and Steve knows Billy prefers Steve’s place because Billy wouldn’t like Steve’s rescue cat, Santina (a cute, young black kitty), to be left alone because Steve is over at Billy’s and Billy’s landlord doesn’t allow pets.
Still, Billy swears he doesn’t like Santina or animals in general but Steve always catches him scratching Santina's chin softly (Billy always smiles crookedly when she starts purring and butting his hand with her head), he’s seen Billy annoy her playfully by tickling her little ears when she’s sleeping on her big tower (that Billy himself put together because Steve got frustrated quickly and couldn’t do it) and there are about five packages of cat treats, expensive ones, in his pantry that Steve is sure that he didn’t bought those himself.
But Billy wouldn’t admit to it.
He expects Steve to think that they just magically appeared there; just like the three new Petco toys that Santina has now and happily plays with them.
Steve knows Billy has a sweet spot for Santina and animals in general, he’s always scrolling on social media through cute animal videos and he always tickles Steve’s side in annoyance when Steve pokes fun at him.
Steve knows too that the reason Billy isn’t used to pets and feels weird about the thought it’s because Billy once told him, during one if their drunken conversations, about how his father hated animals and about that time when he and Max once came home with a little stray kitten with the intention of taking care of it but the next day it was gone.
His father was to blame.
Billy was twelve.
Steve knows that Billy still remembers it with anger and a broken sadness. He resents it.
How couldn’t he?
That's why Billy procures to avoid getting attached to a pet or showing too much attention – because he is just scared of them being taken away or something bad happening to them.
Still, Billy is letting his guard down little by little and succumbing to Santina's feline enchantments, and he is growling more affectionate towards her even when–
“Your damn cat slept on my clothes. Again.”
Steve turned looked at his side, where Billy was exiting the bedroom and walking up towards Steve who was bending over the kitchen island comfortably as he sipped on his coffee and scrolled through his Instagram feed.
Billy’s frown is evident and he was aggressively brushing Steve’s sticky lint rolled down his white shirt and blue jeans. He was making a show of it; to make Steve know how annoyed he was trying to be.
Steve rolled his eyes and turned down to look at his phone again, he yawned sleepily, “She likes your scent.”
Billy just grumbled.
“I already made you a cup of coffee,” Steve said cheerfully, ignoring Billy’s scowl.
“Thanks, baby,” Billy mumbled, distracted and still cleaning his clothes, “I bet I’ll find cat hair in it too.”
Said cat, Santina, was all over Steve’s feet, smudging her little face on his ankles, trying to get his attention but Steve was busy giggling at a video Robin sent him.
“There you are,” Billy said with annoyance when he saw her, and when she saw him too and started walking towards him, Billy carefully and softly pushed her away with her foot, “No, don’t even dare to come near me right now, cat.”
Steve looked behind himself were Billy was now standing, still using the sticky lint roller and pushing Santina away several times. Billy looks so silly, annoyed with the cat when only they know Billy will still stop at Petco and bring Santina something. Steve grinned and turned to face his boyfriend.
“She just really likes you, babe.”
“Cat hair all over my fucking jeans. All the time. All the god damn time,” Billy was muttering to himself.
“Ugh, you’re so dramatic!” Steve snickered and snatched the sticky lint roller from Billy’s hands to step closer, “Turn around.”
“Hey, I’m the one who says that,” A playful smirk made the frown on his face disappear.
Steve gave him a pointed look, “You want me to help or not?”
Billy rolled his eyes but did turn around.
Steve rolled the thing throughly over his broad shoulder and strong back, lifting off every black hair that belonged to Santina.
“There, all done. But you like to make a big deal out of everything,” He patted Billy’s back and dropped the lint roller onto the counter.
Billy turned around to face him but he suspected his shirt and jeans, brushing it off with his hands, just to be a dramatic jerk.
Still, Steve leaned closer and hugged Billy’s shoulders, stopping him, he smiled sweetly at him, “She just feels comfortable with your scent that’s why she likes to sleep on your clothes.”
“I don’t care. She’s managed to fucking get her stinky fur all over my shit,” Billy said moodily, pointing at Santina who was rubbing on both of their feet.
“She’s not stinky!” Steve gasped loudly and quickly bent down to pick up his cat, holding her like a baby and plastering her face with the side of his, “Don’t listen to that grumpy man, baby.”
Billy grabbed the cup of coffee that Steve prepared him from the counter, he took a long sip and watched Steve who was just wearing one of Billy’s shirts that fits him a bit too large and tight briefs, it’s already past eleven and he’s still in his sleeping clothes but he can afford to stay like that because it’s his day off and Billy is the sucked who has to go to work on a Sunday. Steve continually kissed the cats head and rubbed her little ears, moving her side to side like a damn baby.
“She’s a spoiled brat, Steve. She keeps doing everything she wants because you let her,” Billy pointed out, shaking his head at them but a small smile stretched his lips, he hid it behind his cup as he said, “She’s a spoiled brat just like his mommy.”
“Hey!” Steve smacked Billy’s arm but continued babying Santina, he hugged her close and started talking to her in that silly, high-pitched voice he uses with her, “We're not spoiled, right baby? We’re just happy. Aren’t we, baby? Aren’t we? Oh, yes we are, baby!”
Santina purred and pawed at Steve’s face.
Billy snorted but the same little smile prevailed, “You’re both annoying.”
“And we love you,” Steve said, grinning at him before pursing his lips at Billy and tilting his face up.
“I’m not kissing you with that rat in your arms,” Billy grimaced and drank more of his coffee.
Steve gasped again, theatrically, “Apologize to her, right now!”
Billy leaned down to the cat's level but he just hissed at her playfully.
“Dick,” Steve rolled his eyes, shielding the cat's face with his hand. Now he was being the dramatic one.
“Like the one you just sucked?” Billy snickered and dodged Steve’s hand that wanted to smack Billy in the head.
“Fuck off, don’t say that shit in front of my child,” He pointed an stern finger at his boyfriend.
Billy chuckled but still leaned into to leave a wet, playful peck on Steve’s cheek. He necked down what was left of his coffee and put the cup on the sink.
“I’m gonna head to work now.”
“Nooo,” Steve pouted at him, still carrying his cat and scratching her head, “You’ll come around and stay tonight, right?”
“If you want me to,” Billy shrugged, faking a bored expression.
Steve returned it, “Do I have a choice?”
The taller man grinned and leaned down to kiss him longingly, he murmured lowly, “No, you don’t.”
Steve playfully licked his lips when Billy moved away but he couldn’t move too far because one of Santina’s claws stuck on his shirt when he was pawing at Billy’s chest while he and Steve were sharing a kiss.
Steve started giggling.
“Damn it, cat!” Billy huffed and looked down at his chest, but he was too careful in grabbing her small paw and taking her little claws out of his shirt.
Billy rubbed at her paw unconsciously, as if in case she hurt it. Steve noticed the sweet gesture but didn’t comment on it because he knows how flustered Billy gets when caught being cute with the cat.
“See, she doesn’t want you to go,” Steve pouted again, holding her close to his chest and batting his lashes to Billy, “I don’t want you to go either.”
“Clingy little fucks,” Billy said without any heat behind the words. He gave Steve a small smile and reached in to ruffle his hair.
“Ugh, you know I hate when mess it up,” Steve grumbled, pushing at Billy’s hand.
“You don’t say that when I’m fucking that ass,” Billy said smugly, turning around to head to the entrance door. Steve followed him.
“Don’t say that in front of my child!”
Billy cackled as he put on his shoes and turned around to face Steve, “I’ll come back with take out, okay? Chinese okay?”
Steve nodded, still holding his cat, he reached out for Billy to hug his neck with just one arm and pulled him down for a soft, little peck. He smiled when Billy smiled against him and leaned down for another one.
“Have a nice day, grumpy man,” Steve said fondly, watching him put on his leather jacket and take his car keys from the bowl on the little table next to the door.
“Thank you, baby,” Billy stood in front of Steve to give him another kiss, loudly smacking their lips.
“Love you,” Steve mumbled sweetly against his lips.
Billy didn’t say it back, of course. But as a response he gave Steve’s forehead a long, soft peck, then on his cheek then on his nose. When he pulled away he looked Steve this half-closed blue eyes gleaming adoringly at him.
That was enough for Steve – he knows that’s Billy’s way of saying it back.
“Give Santina a kiss too,” Steve pouted at him, holding the sleepy cat towards Billy.
Billy sighed and gave Steve a pointed look.
“Please? We’ll miss you,” Steve hugged Santina close to him. Both of them gave Billy this doe, puppy eyes.
Billy sighed. Steve knows he can’t resist. He leaned down to deliver a short kiss on the cat's head.
“You’re lucky you’re both cute,” Billy mumbled moodily.
“Bye, step-daddy!” Steve grabbed Santina's paw and waved with it at Billy as they watched him close the door behind him. Not before shaking his head fondly at Steve and grinning like an idiot.
Indeed, when Billy arrived from work, Steve found a new package of cat treats in his pantry. Santina’s favorite ones.
Again, the little things.
Oh, Billy and his little things.
They're relaxing in bed. Tired after they had sex. They’re in the early twenties but they get easily tired like a middle-aged couple. Steve will blame it that Billy just have too much stamina in in and it wears them both out. Billy is spooning Steve tightly, he's not even watching the t.v, his face is smudged against Steve’s hair; he’s more asleep than awake.
Spooning fully naked should be awkward and uncomfortable but it is not for them. Having Billy’s bare body plastered and close behind him feels him with an intimate warmth and it makes him feel safe. He’s cleaned even after Billy came inside him. Billy always stands up, after they gained their breath, to dampen a towel to help Steve clean up, even if Steve himself mostly just lies there limp and sleepy to let Billy do the job.
Billy is just so lovely about it, brushing his skin carefully with the washcloth and apologizing for making such a mess in-between Steve’s legs. Steve always tells him with a pleased smile how much he loves that mess. It always earns him a soft slap on his ass and a chuckle from Billy.
Now, Steve’s eyes are half-closed, fighting to stay open to watch the movie, unlike Billy who already gave up. Billy’s relaxed breathing and heartbeat is making Steve sleepy. Steve sighed, shifted a little and grabbed the large hand resting warmly in his belly to bring it against his chest. Steve interlocked their fingers and held it comfortably against him.
“My car's been feeling weird lately,” Steve commented in a low murmur. It came to his mind when the movie that they’re supposedly watching showed a car similar to his.
He didn’t expected an answer. He thought that Billy was asleep already but he then spoke in a groggy voice, lips moving against Steve’s shoulder as Billy’s growing beard scraped his skin.
“In what way?”
“I don’t know. It’s, like, a little jumpy. It’s making a weird noise too,” Steve shut his eyes, giving up.
Billy hummed slightly as an answer. Steve doubts he is actually listening. He’s definitely falling asleep now. No, he fell asleep. Because after a minute Steve heard the soft rumble of his snores.
Soon, Steve fell into unconsciousness shortly after, not even bothering to turn off the t.v. He just pulled the covers tightly around them and plastered himself even more against Billy. It was getting colder in California or maybe he just wanted to be closer to him.
In the morning, Billy woke up early to check out Steve’s car.
He did listen to Steve last night.
Steve knew when he checked his phone with sleepy, half-closed eyes that he saw a text from Billy.
i’m downstairs in the garage
Then, Steve found himself wearing a large hoodie, probably Billy’s (his closet is a mess with both of their shit) and loose sweatpants as he went down the garage where all of the tenants keep their cars.
And Billy was in there. In the first parking spot, body laying under Steve’s car. Steve could barely see the blond hair poking out. There was a small speaker on the ground, echoing rock music; Billy’s favorite.
Steve could hear Billy singing along lowly. He hasn’t notice his presence.
Steve tried to crouch down slightly to get a look, he then frowned confusedly when he couldn’t see anything but a part of Billy’s shoulders and hair.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked over the music.
Billy was using his skateboard to support his back, he slid out slightly and looked up at Steve when he finally noticed him, “What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?”
“It’s too early. Come back to bed,” Steve groaned, rubbing at his face lazily.
“It’s 9 a.m, Steve.”
“That’s early for me,” He mumbled, looking around himself to see that they were the only ones there.
“You told me last night that it was feeling weird,” Billy explained pointing upwards at the car above him, “So, I came to have a look.”
A little smile formed into Steve’s face slowly. It’s the little things, as he said. He just wants Billy to crawl out from there and hug him. He will never get enough of hugging his boyfriend.
“What is it then?” Steve instead asked.
“Nothing serious. It’s leaking some oil but I’m on it,” Billy said and grabbed a small towel next to him to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
Steve just noticed now the grim and grease on his white shirt and jeans, those are the ones he uses when he is doing any mechanical work. There’s grease on his hands too and some on his face from where he’s been wipin off sweat. Watching Billy’s grimed up, working, calloused hands holding tools and moving them around shouldn’t bebas taunting, intriguing and just – fucking hot.
But Steve has always been infatuated with Billy’s masculinity and experienced hands.
“It looks like you hit a high speed bump and it made some damage. But it’s nothing it can’t be fixed,” Billy explained calmly, pointing at the damaged part.
“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Steve said, still smiling like a fool.
“It’s not bother, baby,” Billy said, honest and sweet.
Steve's heart fluttered warmly against his chest as he watched Billy doing God knows what to his car.
He sighed, “Okay, I’ll leave you to it, then. I'd help you but you know I can’t fix a car to save my life.”
“Oh, I know,” Billy chuckled.
“You'd make a sexy mechanic, by the way,” Steve smirked, backing away towards the doors to the elevator.
“I am a sexy mechanic.”
Steve giggled, “I’ll get started on breakfast. Sunny side up eggs, beacon and hash-browns?”
“Yes!” Billy exclaimed excitedly from under the car, “I’ll be up in a bit. Oh, and I already fed Santina, she was bitching at me as if she’s never ate. She’s a brat.”
“Thank you, babe! Now she will love you even more, jokes on you,” Steve called over his shoulder as he headed towards the door before playfully adding, “And don’t wreck my car, please.”
“The only thing I wreck is your ass, pretty boy,” Billy caller back at him with a cheeky grin.
“Shh!” Steve hushed him in embarrassment when one of his neighbors was exiting the elevator just when Billy loudly said that.
“Oh, my God,” He mumbled in mortification after awkwardly greeting the neighbor, Billy just laughed an he quickly hoped in the elevator.
Yes, the little things – it’s what keeps making Steve inevitably fall even more for Billy.
Morning sex may be one of Steve’s favorites.
Maybe because it’s intense, intimate and erotically addicting. They’re still not fully awake, their senses get more alert at every scorching, sensual touch left behind. The haziness of sleep follows them but certain bites, kisses and touches awakens them slowly.
It's the only time of the day where Steve doesn’t care how his hair looks. It’s always messy in the mornings. Too messy. He shifts a lot during the night. Billy makes it messier by pulling at it how Steve likes while he kisses the side of his neck sloppily, leaving wet traces and flushed marks.
Billy doesn’t care about morning breath. Steve feels self-conscious about kissing him first thing in the morning without even getting the chance to brush his teeth. Steve is reluctant and embarrassed at first, he whines sleepily and tries to hide his face with his arms to avoid a kiss.
But Billy always prays them away and connect their mouths in a slow, lazy kiss, his thumb stroking Steve’s cheek sweetly – and Steve can only merely melt before him.
It's intimate, romantic, overwhelming, vulnerable even; morning sex, that is.
Because what a great way to start the day with a toe-curling orgasm after a little bit of love making.
Steve usually likes it on his back, missionary style, because he still feels too tired to be too physical. Billy rests his forearms on the mattress, on each side of Steve’s thrown-back-in-pleasure head. He likes to gingerly push back the hairs that falls on Steve’s sweaty forehead with a shaky palm as he fucks inside Steve.
Steve always turns his head to kiss at Billy’s palm and Billy put his thumb in his mouth for Steve to suck at it sloppily and moan around it as his body moves with Billy’s thrusts.
Each of Steve’s legs rest on the sides of Billy’s torso. Billy likes to wander his hand down to grip at the flesh of the slim thigh, he smacks it too, grinning like and idiot when Steve’s sighs in pleasure. They both like it on the rougher side.
They're often too sleepy and uncoordinated, they giggle when one of them is being too clumsy, like when Steve bumps their heads together on accident or when Billy squeezes at the bottle of lube a bit too strongly and the slippery liquid squirts all over them.
When Steve is feeling particularly dominant or bossy, he rides Billy with all his might that his tired, sleepy body can offer. Billy sits on the edge of the bed, legs off the mattress and feet planted firmly on the floor. He wears that black wonky, surfer thread anklet Steve made for him after watching a couple of tutorials. Billy never takes it off. In exchange, Billy got Steve a gold one, it’s thin and discreet, it’s pretty too. It fits Steve’s classy, preppy style. It looks so nice around Steve’s bony ankle. Steve never takes it off too, just when he goes to the beach because he’s afraid of losing it.
Steve straddles Billy, sits on him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms wrapped around his shoulder for leverage. The gold anklet digs on his other ankle as he crosses them around Billy to try and get him deep inside. He loves watching Billy groan and look up at him with those shiny blue eyes gleaming with admiration and lust. They watch as Steve hops up and down his dick and rolls his hips hotly that’s too delicious to look at and feel under his big hands.
They kiss and pant against each other, a string of spit forms between their lips but Billy breaks it by tilting his head to suck on Steve earlobe. Steve tightens around his dick because he just weakens when Billy do that.
Steve lazily rides him but that’s enough for them. It’s early, they get off fast. The position is too good. It gets Steve moaning softly against Billy’s parted mouth. Billy’s hands rest on the small of his back warmly, guiding him as he starts to fuck into him because he can always sense when Steve is close to coming.
“Fuck,” Steve would say breathlessly as he moves his hands to grip at Billy’s short hair to connect their lips in a sloppy kiss.
“Like that?” Billy grins against him, hands greedily caressing and squeezing Steve’s ass cheeks.
Steve nods and one of his hands comes to grip Billy’s bicep, where one of his many tattoo lays, the other holds the side of his face, feeling beard prickling under his palm, “There, fuck.”
Billy fucked up against him. There. He wrapped his arms around Steve when he almost fell back. Steve quickly hugged his neck and panted against him. They kept moving.
“I got you, baby,” Billy whispered.
“Fuck,” Steve gasped when he shifted his hips a certain way, he moaned quietly and scrunched his face up in pure bliss.
Billy looked at him, dazed, and leaned in to kiss him. They can’t stop kissing each other, tasting each other, devouring each other.
Steve hummed against him and gave Billy a long peck on the lips, noses bumping, then he whispered quietly, “I love you.”
Billy didn’t say it back. Again, he never does.
Instead, he held Steve tightly against him, almost desperately, clinging to him and looking up at him with emotion and sweet affliction – Affliction because he wants to answer back. Steve knows. Billy struggles.
Billy kissed Steve with fervor, commitment and devotion.
Because Billy’s devotion for Steve is deep, as deep as the pacific ocean.
Steve knows that too. And that was more than enough for him.