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It's a suggestion from his therapist to help him get used to acknowledging the good things in his life. She wants Billy to write down the things in his day that make him feel safe, happy or loved. She called it ‘Cognitive restructuring’, Billy just thinks it’s a fancy way of saying Fake it till you make it but he’d be lying if he said his sessions with Dr Piper hadn't been helping so he decides to trust her on this.
She’d said that after years of having to focus on and catalogue every negative mood or event he witnessed just to survive, that unless he changes it himself his worldview will always be tinged with panic, sadness and anger.
And isn't that something, even though he's been gone for months, skipping town when Hopper got wise to what was going on at the house, Neil's memory still casts a grim shadow on everything that he sees. His jaw ticks in anger at the thought and he can't help the frustration that boils up inside of him and threatens to spill up out the corners of his eyes.
Billy takes a deep breath, his hands tightening around the Camaros steering wheel feeling the squeak of the leather in his palm. The familiar sensation grounding him.
———
Therapy was hard but it had been a condition of him staying at Hoppers.
After the events of last November and the fight at the Byers, Hopper had come to seek him out. He’d found him at the Quarry slumped against the Camaro drunk, trying to wrap a bandage around his ribs, getting increasingly frustrated when his movements pulled at his other injuries.
It hadn’t taken Hopper long to figure out that not all the marks covering Billy’s body were from Steve and even less time to figure out where the rest of them must have come from. Billy hadn’t even had to say anything, just weakly tilted his head in confirmation while Hopper filled in the blanks for him.
—-------
Each time one of the Chiefs fears about the events at Cherry Lane were confirmed, he could feel the ugly ball of rage in his chest growing hotter. He'd come here to tear into the Hargrove boy, but right now he was fighting every fibre of his being to stop himself from wrapping his arms around the kid to try and shield him from the world.
He’s trying and failing to get a handle on the rage rolling through him and realises a little too late that Billy has started to turn in on himself, cowering away. Shit, good job Hopper you fucking idiot, kids’ too drunk to realise you’re mad at his dad not him.
It takes nearly an hour, countless promises that the kids not in trouble and all remaining patience he’s able to muster but Hopper finally gets the drunken teen into the back of the truck and then into a spare bed back in the cabin, he’s not about to take him back to his family so that shit stain Neil can hurt him again. So the kid can stay here and sleep it off, Hopper has a house call to make.
———
By the time Billy is sober and awake, Neil’s gone and beyond trying to reassure him that he’s safe now, Hopper’s keeping quiet on the whole thing. He doesn’t really believe it at first but a tense visit back to the house to see Susan confirms it all.
“I’m sorry William but with your Father no longer here I can’t afford to let you stay” Susan tries to push a sympathetic smile onto her face, it reads like more of a grimace to Billy.
“You’re almost 18 now, and I don’t want to make you move schools, so you can leave this as your registered address for now but you’ll need to find somewhere else to sleep.” She brings her teacup to her lips pursed to take a sip, the aroma of the sweet peppermint almost masking the smell of the generous glug of vodka she just have added to it. “Plus I need to make sure this is a safe environment for my Maxine, and you’re not a bad boy William but we both know you have your issues.”
Billy can’t say he’s surprised, Neils has been working on Susan since they got married. It's about right she drank the proverbial Kool Aid when it came to him.
“Any news on where Neil, where my Dad has gone?”
“No, he left the morning after the Chief came to see him. Took a couple of bags of clothes and just said he’d be in touch about'' Susan waves her hand around her “Well about everything else.” She takes a deep breath reaching her hand over the table bring it to rest just on top of Billy's, her eyes meet his fixing him with a look of faux sympathy, he can tell by the glassiness on her face she must have been drinking most of the day already “I hope you know William that if I had any idea it was as bad as the Chief implied, if you had just told me I would have tried to do something, anything to help” Billy can’t decide if her smile isn’t reaching her eyes because of the alcohol or because even she doesn’t buy her own bullshit.
He can’t trust himself to speak, so he just swallows the vicious bile building at the back of his throat at the thought of each time Susan turned her away from his Dad’s anger or how she knew exactly when to take Max out to the mall; and nods his head in agreement.
That must satisfy Susan’s conscience as she pulls away, draining what's left of her tea.
Cup now empty she moves to settle herself back down in front of the TV. “I’ve put a few boxes in your room, please pack up everything, if you can’t take it all with you today I can give you a week or two to come by and get it.”
He won’t need to come back to get anything he had frighteningly little to his name, didn’t even need to use all the boxes Susan had left for him. He was packed up and out of there before Max had even gotten home from her friends.
———
When he’s left that day he’d planned on trying to sleep in the Camaro but his California blood is no match for the freezing temperature of Hawkins in the throes of winter. So he ends up shivering (mostly from the cold) and desperate on Hopper's porch.
———
It’s on the Saturday of his second week at Hopper's that the talk about therapy comes up. El had gone to the Wheeler kids for the day with Max and the rest of the brats, leaving Billy and Hopper alone, so far they’ve spent the morning making pancakes and Billy can tell Hopper’s winding up for something, he starts mentally preparing himself to be asked to leave, he’ll look into cheap motels later he should be able to cover somewhere if he gets a part time job.
“Ok, so before we start I want to make it clear you’re welcome to stay” Hopper begins sliding another pancake onto the stack in the middle of the table “But while I’ve just been playing it by ear for now, we’re going to have a few rules going forward.”
Billy’s posture straightens up at that, the familiar fear when rules are mentioned rolls over him. Hopper’s more perceptive than Billy ever gave him credit for because he clicks straight away, bringing his hands out in a placating motion settling himself down in the seat across from him.
“Woah no ok, none of that. I’m not Neil, I won’t ask you to do anything I wouldn’t do and there won’t be any physical punishments if the rules are broken. All I expect is a good faith effort from you with these OK. And if you can’t do one or you think it’s too much just tell me and we can talk it out OK?” When he doesn’t get a response the Chief starts digging into the food in front of him and waits until the tension leaves Billy’s shoulders before continuing.
“Yeah so the first rule should help with …. that” Hopper motions at Billy as if that explains everything “Therapy. You’ll be attending it going forward. Got a good recommendation from the government guys for someone specialising in abuse and trauma. First session is tomorrow, I’ll take you the first time but after that you’ll be responsible for getting yourself there each week.” Hopper slides a small stack of papers across the table. “There are a few things in there I've been told you need to read and fill out before the first session.”
“I can’t afford that” The words barely come out above a whisper.
“It’s taken care of, courtesy of Uncle Sam as a thank you for keeping quiet about the whole upside down mess.” Hopper waves him off. “So that's rule one. Rule two you’ll be staying in school, you’ve got half a year left and I expect you to try.” He reaches out with the half full coffee pot in offering filling up Billy’s mug when he nods his head in response. “I was able to get copies of your transcripts, you're a smart kid, so while you’re here all homework will be completed, you’ll be on time to lessons, pencil in hand ass in seat ready to learn Ok?”
Bill knows it’s a rhetorical question but nods anyway.
“So the next two rules are a bit more fluid. I’m not going to charge you rent or upkeep, I’ve chosen to let you live here so i’ll cover any extra costs but I want you saving for your own place or college, something for your future, so you’ll need a job, part time obviously, school will still be your highest priority so like two or three nights a week Max. That's rule 3. You with me so far Kid?” Hopper punctuates the words with another syrupy bite of pancake.
“Erm yeah therapy, school, work. You said there was another rule” Billy shifts slightly in his seat.
“Yeah final rule.” He watches Hopper wipe his mouth on a paper napkin he’s fished from his pocket “Family time, Your Stepmom agreed to let Max spend the night every other Friday. So you’ll make sure that’s not one of your working nights, you’ll pick her and El up from school and we can cook” Hopper clears his throat “Or get takeout and we’ll all spend time together. Me and El like finding crap on the TV to watch but you can always drop in at Family Video on the way home if you want to pick something out.” Hoper takes a long slow sip of his coffee “So can you work with that? Anything you don’t agree with?”
Billy just shakes his head, still a little uneasy. Hopper knows not to try and push it right now so he continues.
“Ok so job wise I was thinking unless you had something else in mind, that since you seem to know your way around an engine, that I could speak to Paul at the garage over by the Diner see if he’s got room for a part time trainee on the books. He owes me a favour, several actually.” Hopper’s started piling the plates in the sink, turning the tap to fill up the water “I’ll wash you dry? Towels just there” he points to a draw under the counter.
Billy pulls a towel from the indicated draw and goes to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Chief.
“So how does that sound? It won’t be easy work but I think you’ll like it” Hopper turns to look at him then, waiting “Come on Kid this is supposed to be a conversation, tell me how you feel?”
“I’d been looking at maybe applying for a lifeguard role near summer but the pool doesn’t open for a while, so that's not really an option right now” Billy Muses.
Hopper hums in reply “Nothing stopping you closer to the time though, if you still wanted. You’ll still need something for now though”
“So yeah the erm garage would be good. I’d appreciate it, if you could put in a word for me”
“Ok I’ll speak to Paul later. I think this could really work, Kid.”
They finish with the pots and Hopper leaves for his shift at the station reminding Billy he’ll be there to take him to his first session with the Doctor tomorrow and he needs the paperwork filled in ready.
————
Therapy starts out slow, he finds it hard to open up at first, but Dr Piper helps him understand his feelings a little better. It begins with him learning to put names to everything be feels. Happy for the feeling he gets when he’s watching Max and El share a milkshake, satisfaction for when he gets a good grade on a paper he really tried on, frustration for when the wrench slips out of his grip at work and it catches it his skin, worry for when he hears that Max got into a fight at school and well he’s not quite sure what to label the slightly sick excited feeling he gets around Harrington now.
Then they move onto him identifying the things that cause unexpected mood shifts, the doctor calls them triggers. So how the smell of whiskey on Hoppers breath causes him to freeze, how when someone tells him they need to talk he’s gripped by panic or the way his mouth dries up when and his heart beats faster when Harrington holds eye contact with him for a few extra seconds in that damn Hello Sailor ice cream uniform. Have Harrington's lips always looked like that?
It’s near the start of summer, around 4 months into this whole arrangement that the notebook thing is suggested. It was reccomended he pick out a notebook specifically for it, small enough to carry with him so he can add to it anywhere.
That’s how he ends up in the stationary store at Star Court on a Saturday staring at the different coloured notebooks and pens. He’d brought the girls here today after the family time sleepover last night, so they could hang out with their boyfriends. A headache starts to build behind his eyes at the idea of either girl dating but at least he’s close by if anything happens. He’s got a few hours to himself before he’ll be asked to take them home.
Billy finds himself a little overwhelmed by the choices, he wants the pages lined obviously to make it easier to write in but after that he has no idea. How thick should it be? Is it better to get a few small ones to work through or start off strong with a hundred or so pages to fill? Why does he suddenly care so much about a fucking diary?
“Helllllloooo, earth to Billy” a voice breaks into his awareness, he’s crouched down going through the shelves. The first thing he sees are the calf high white socks of Harrington’s fucking Sailor suit. And yeah that's all the moisture leaving his mouth.
“Oh hey erm” Billy pulls himself up to standing “Sorry I think I was a little lost there”
A light chuckle comes in response “Yeah I’d say so, I was starting to think you were actively ignoring me” Steve playfully knocks him with his shoulder. Billy offers a huff and lightly scowls back.
“What had you so distracted anyway? Getting into scrapbooking Hargrove?” Steve keeps the light tone to his words flicking the small stack of notebooks in his hands. Steve and Billy have been talking more recently, they've been openly pleasant to each other and they even tend to gravitate towards each other at any great nerd gathering. It’s nice, it feels like friendship.
“Kind of …. not exactly” Billy shrugs putting his stack of books back on the shelf “I need to pick out a notebook, it’s” He takes a deep breath, Steve knows about the conditions of him staying at Hoppers he’s not kept it a secret “It’s an exercise from the therapist Hopper has me go to. I need to write down the things I’m happy for each day like some fucking Thanksgiving holiday special” He pinches his brow together in mild frustration “And like a notebook is a notebook right? So why can’t I just pick any old one to put it in? It shouldn’t matter right? So why does the idea of me writing it in this” He holds up a deep red notebook “Feel wrong?” He’s getting wound up now he can feel it, he knows from working with Dr Piper it’s not anger more accurately exasperation.
“I don’t know, could be the colour, red always felt more like anger or love to me.” Steve reaches into the stacks of books. “Happiness feels more like yellow or that bluey green there” He points to an aquamarine cover “Or this kind of blue” He’s holding a soft cornflower blue tome in his hands now. It’s small enough that it’ll fit into Billy’s inner pocket and it has a hardcover so it won’t get damaged easily. That's the one he wants, he reaches out to take it from Steve.
“Ah I’ll get it for you, notebooks have got to be like wallets right?” When Billy just looks at him eyebrow raised he continues “Like it’s bad luck to buy your own wallet or tarot cards even”
“The fuck do you know about Tarot Harrington?” There's no challenge in Billy’s words, just curiosity.
“Nothing but it’s a thing right? so I’ll get you this and a pen and it just means you’re not breaking any unspoken bad luck diary rules”
“s’not a diary, i’m not a 15 year old girl with a crush” Billy sniffs but he stops reaching for the notebook. “Anyway aren't you late for a shift or something?” he gestures at Steve's outfit.
“I got my days mixed up, thought I started at 10 but I’m erm on second shift. Figured there's no point in me going home just to come back again later so just killing some time.” Steve turns to go further into the store “So pens?”
Steve talks him into one of those multi-colored push down rollerball pens because “What are you going to do if it’s a pink happy moment and you only have a purple pen on you?” apparently the correct answer isn’t that he’d just write it in purple.
Leaving the store the boys start half following each other through the mall.
“I’ve still got an hour until my shift if you wanted to grab a coffee with me” Steves’ looking at him with a shy smile on face, hiding his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “No worries if not just figured you were here until the kids got bored and the company could be worse right?”
“Yeah coffee” Billy clears his throat “Coffee sounds great”
He can feel a warm feeling deep in his gut as he sees the smile breaking out on Steve's face.
“Cool, yeah erm cool.” He thinks he can see Steves cheeks turning a flushed pink “There’s a nice little place on the mezzanine, the coffees’ good and they make a great tiramisu if you’re hungry. Generous portions as well, this way”
Billy lets himself be led to a cute little cafe. They end up talking over steaming cups of cappuccino and split the best tiramisu he’s ever tasted.
When he gets back to the cabin that night Billy made thefirst entry into his gifted notebook, it read ‘Tiramisu and coffee with a friend.’ It was a pink happy moment.
————-
The act of seeking out happy things to write down each day means over time he starts only really paying attention to the good things that happen. It doesn’t mean bad things stop happening, he just stops assigning as much weight to them.
He writes in the book when he has a good shift at work. The first time Steve cooks for him (Spaghetti Puttanesca, turns out Harrington’s a natural in the kitchen). He writes about when he graduates and the day he and Steve share their first kiss he just draws a small pink heart next to the date.
He keeps notebooks long after he’s stopped his visits with Dr Piper. He likes that it gives him a happy road through his memories, one he can walk down anytime.
He moves the notebooks with him to his and Steve's first little flat above the garage in Chicago, and finds space on the shelves for them on the book case of the shared house they find when they take the plunge and move to Cali.
And now they sit in the shared office of the house he and Steve built together. Steve never pressures him to see what he’s written down, he can just see the gentle smile on his face when he sees Billy making notes. He sticks by his made up rule that it’s bad luck for Billy to buy his own notebooks and pens, and when he knows Billy is near the end of a book a new one will appear near the others, in a colour Steve has designated a ‘Happy’ colour. And he picks up pens he thinks Billy will like when he’s out shopping, which means Billy ends up with a case full of artificially scented glitter gel pens, and he couldn’t be happier about it.
——-
Steve is away for a few days the next time Billy decides to go through the notebooks again. He’d gone to help set one of the kids he mentors up in a new city for college. He knows it’s only a few days but he misses him. So he settles down on the sofa with a few beers and his notebooks.
It’s easy to pick out the happy memories that include Steve, they tend to be written in various shades of pink or red, he’d tried using canary yellow at one point but realised it made the notes really hard to read.
He reads about the trips they’ve been on, about the time Steve piled up blankets in the living room for a picnic when they still didn’t have furniture or the time he looked after him when he was sick.
He realised especially in the later books nearly all of the entries are pink or red, that most of the happiness he feels now is linked directly with Steve. And while he would never make Steve responsible for it, he wants to make sure Steve knows how much he means to him. He comes up with a plan for when his boyfriend gets home.
——-
Steve gets back to the house early Tuesday morning, he can hear Billy moving around in the kitchen and the smell of coffee filling the space is pure heaven. Billy must hear him close the door behind as he drifts into the living room cup in outstretched hand for Steve.
He takes it gratefully, not having to ask to know it’s been made sweet and creamy with condensed milk.
“If you say you’ve got bacon in there as well I’ll be ready to drop to my knees right where I stand in gratitude” Steve sighs as Billy presses a kiss to his cheek.
“Sorry to disappoint Pretty Boy” Steve groans and melts into Billy’s touch “But there are some croissants on the side and berries in the fridge” He starts laying kisses along Steves jaw “And tonight I was planning on ordering some Thai food” Steve tilts his head back giving Billy better access to the column of his throat “And you can tell me all about how that kid…”
“Nick” Steve sounds pretty breathless
“Yeah tell me how Nick is doing in New York” Billy gently sinks his teeth into the soft spot behind Steve's ear smiling at the strangled noise he makes. He could fill notebooks dedicated to that noise alone. “But first…” He slowly pulls away from the heat of Steve's body trying not to laugh when his half melted partner stumbles now Billy’s no longer there to support him. He leans in to gently kiss away his freshly forming pout. “I have a half day at the garage and then a few errands to run. But I’ll be back before you know it and I’ll happily take you up on that offer of gratitude.”
“That gratitude was offered for bacon, which you failed to provide. So tough luck, you’ll have to come up with another way to earn it” And the smile Steve gives him at that; eyebrow raised in challenge almost makes Billy show his hand right here right now. But he can let Steve win for now; it'll be worth it later. He presses one more kiss against Steve’s smiling lips, mutters a hushed I love you against his skin and leaves for the day.
——-
Steve makes the most of having the house to himself for a little while, he eats the food Billy left for him, picking at the tart berries between mouthfuls of sweet coffee and flakey pastry. He plans to treat his sore muscles to a bath, wash the recycled air from his flight home off his skin.
Traveling always takes it out of him but being able to settle the kids in their own place makes him happy, it's his favourite part of his role at the foundation. He gets to take on the part of the loving parent that most of the kids had been denied since coming out. Taking them to pick out dishes, comforters, curtains and posters to decorate their spaces; making sure their cupboards are fully stocked and using the foundation's trust (A trust Steve has actively fed into since his fathers death) to help them cover first and last month's rent on wherever they end up. They even have a grant to help cover books for college.
He takes his time, the heat of the water easing the pains in his neck and back, rubbing thick fruit scented suds into his skin. He’s half asleep by the time the water has gotten cool and his skin has gone pruney. He takes it as a sign that it’s time to get out and dry off.
Looking at the clock as he pulls a sweater over his damp hair he sees he still has a little while before he can expect Billy to come back. He decides to busy himself with some housework and then maybe a nap. Actually maybe nap first
———-
Steve must have been more tired than he thought as he gets woken up a little before 5 by Billy wrapping himself around him like an octopus. He’s not sure when this would-be sea creature actually got home because right now he smells fresh out of the shower but his hair feels dry so it must have been at least an hour.
“As cute as you look tucked up in bed like this Stevie I thought you’d be wanting to eat soon.”
The mention of food makes Steve realise he’s not eaten since this morning.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything specific so I just ordered all our favourites.” Steve stretches out in his boyfriend's arms smiling into his chest.
He can feel Billy’s lips ghosting over his ear, his voice drops into a deep seductive whisper.
“Pad Thai”
“Tom Yung Goong”
“Laab”
“Ok I’m up. I’m awake, you can stop torturing me now” Steve untangles himself from the covers shooting an unconvincingly sour look at his torturer.
“Come on Pretty Boy it won’t be long” At that Billy’s already off the bed and halfway down the stairs to the living room leaving Steve to collect himself before following.
Billy really has been home longer than an hour if the living room is anything to go by, all the furniture has been pushed against the far wall and the floor is covered in blankets and pillows. and the fireplace is roaring.
“Erm Baby? Sweetheart? Darling?” Steve calls out in a sing-songy voice “Why is the floor covered with every single soft furnishing we’ve ever owned?” He can’t see his other half but can hear the opening and closing of draws from the other room.
“I thought it would be fun to relive our first few nights here. Make it like a picnic”
“And the candles?” Steve gestures at the soft light filling the room.
“Romantic?” Billy enters the room with a tray piled with cutlery, wine glasses and a bottle of the Merlot Steve likes. He seems to take in the room fully now, a slightly embarrassed flush on his cheeks “Although the mix of fabric and fire might not have been the smartest move.” He places the tray in the centre of the floor next to a small stack of books. “I’ll put a few of the ones over here out” he says pointing at the area that would be out of their eye line once they sit down. “Just to be safe.”
As he’s moving across the room the doorbell rings.
“That must be the food, I’m starving,” Steve moves to go and collect it reaching for Billy’s jacket by the door “Do you have cash? I forgot to get more out at the airport and I had to cover my cab fare back here” He starts searching through Billy’s pockets looking for his wallet as he talks. His fingers just brush against something in the inside before it’s snatched out of his grip. He didn’t even realise Billy had followed him over here and why does he look so panicked? Steve doesn’t have time to ask before he's being shepherded away from the door.
The bell chimes out again
“Sit, relax, I’ll grab this”
Steve can only stare in confusion as Billy answers the door, pulling his wallet from his back pocket to pay for the mountain of food he comes back with. When Billy catches him staring he pushes the take out bags into Steve's arms.
“Here you can set this out I’m just going to…” He holds up the jacket he snatched off Steve as if to finish his sentence.
Steve just raises a confused eyebrow at him but decides to let it go. It's not the first time Billy’s been a little weird about Steve touching his stuff.
As he settles himself in the pile of blankets, he starts pulling containers out of the delivery bags covering the area in front of him in delicious smelling food. He watches Billy out of the corner of his eye as he hangs his jacket back up, and he’s sure he watches him take something from the inner pocket.
By the time Billy’s joined him and he’s taken his first few mouthfuls of food it’s all forgotten. They naturally drift into coversation about the last few days; they talk about New York, about the things Nick picked for his dorm room and about how things are going at the garage. When they’re full and slightly tipsy Billy places his glass on the floor by his knee, bringing Steve's attention to the book pile he now recognises as Billy’s ‘Happy Books’.
“I missed you while you were gone you know Pretty Boy” Steve can see the soft warmth in his smile. “So to make me feel better I read a few of these old things” he starts idly flicking through the pages of a sunflower yellow volume “and erm decided I wanted to share a few with you.”
Steve can’t deny the joy that fills him up at this. He’s always respected Billy’s privacy, always hoping but never wanting him to feel forced to share his thoughts.
Steve can see each of the offered notebooks has been marked with little paper tabs, sticking out from the pages like petals from a flower, it’s clear Billy knows exactly the memories he wants to share.
Billy cuddles up closer to him wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders pulling him forward slightly so he’s now resting against his chest.
He starts reading out a few of the earlier memories for him, about a trip to the zoo they went on with Max and El, the weekend they spent in Chicago eating room service and the about first time Billy realised he was in love. They work from the oldest cornflower blue notebook to the newest, Steve had eventually admitted that he was drawn to the first notebook because it reminded him of Billy’s eyes; he's always had a strong association between colour and emotion.
They spend what could have been hours like this laughing at shared memories, Steve adding his point of view on some of the memories Billy’s picked. Eventually they reach the current notebook. It’s a warm burnt orange colour, Steve found it in a little bookshop near the beach, he’d bought it because it reminded him of sunsets and ripe oranges.
“I didn’t know you’d started that one yet” He pushes himself up a little realising the arm he’s had pressed against Billy has gone slightly numb.
“Yeah I started it while you were away, not added much to it yet though” He can tell Billy suddenly got shy about it.
“You’ve marked a page in it though so must be something in it you want to share” Steve flicks the small paper tab sticking from the pages.
“Yeah it’s from today actually” Billy shifts a little tilting himself to face Steve more straight on. “I thought you might want to read this one yourself” He holds out the closed book for him to take.
Steve can tell the mood has shifted slightly, he can read tension on the face opposite. It’s clear that Billy’s nervous about what he’s written here but these are his happy books so it’s got to be something good right? Steve hopes as he takes the notebook in hand, only breaking eye contact to thumb through to the marked page.
He doesn’t see it at first, Billy clearly hasn’t remembered the issue he had with the yellow pen, he goes to tip the book towards Billy in question when the candle light catches a shimmer. Steve forgot the last pack of gel pens he’d bought Billy had a solid gold pen included, he catches the faint scent of artifical pineapple as he tries to get more light on the words.
It takes him a moment to realise what he’s reading. But there written clearly in his boyfriend's handwriting in shimmery gold letters sits the day's date followed by three little words ….
‘He said Yes!’
Before he can fully lift his eyes to meet Billys a small black box is lifted into view, opening to reveal a small gold band.
“It's a bit bold of you to write it in pen, isn't it?” he manages to choke out the words as tears threaten to fall from his eyes.
A strangled laugh snaps his focus up till he meets his Boyfriends Fiancés gaze. “Is that a yes Pretty Boy?”
“Yes, it’s always been yes”
They know they can’t get married yet, not legally at least. But it’s a promise; a promise that they agree they belong together and that when the Government realises that Love is Love it’s a promise to make it official.