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Billy didn't like birthdays.
Or, well, he didn't like his own birthday.
Even years after leaving Hawkins and his piece of shit father in the rearview mirror, never to look back, Billy still couldn't bring himself to celebrate his birthday, and he wouldn’t for years and years.
Trying to celebrate it only ever reminded him of how many birthdays had passed without fanfare, or even the barest of acknowledgements, since his mother had left. He never even wanted Neil to make a big deal over it or anything - he didn't need parties or gifts or warm and fuzzy heart-to-hearts - but even an ever increasingly angry 14 year old would have liked to at least hear the words from the only family he'd had left.
The birthday after his mom left, he'd made the mistake of looking confused and asking Neil if he forgot it was his birthday; instead of a cake and a card that year, Billy got a backhand to the face and a reminder not to bother Neil while he was reading the paper.
The next year, he didn't even bother getting his hopes up.
Susan tried celebrating his birthday the year she married Billy's dad, but he was lucky enough to be able to avoid a scene by warning her that Neil wouldn't be happy about it if he even found out she was planning on baking the cake she’d been asking Billy’s preference about. Thankfully she was smart enough to take his gruff tone and narrowed eyes as the warning it was, and Billy went yet another year not celebrating his birthday, much by his own design that time.
Steve made the mistake of trying to surprise Billy with a birthday party that first year they were officially together; creepy mall monster exploded, injuries slowly healing, egos deflating as the mundane rivalries of high school became more obviously pointless in the grand scheme of things.
Billy had been staying at Steve's house on the pretenses of "lessening the burden" for Susan and Neil in regards to Billy's extensive treatment plan for all of his injuries, but he had no plans of going back to the house on Cherry no matter how quickly he recovered. He’d never step foot in that house again, actually; Steve and Max hatched some sort of hare-brained plan to essentially smuggle Billy’s belongings out of the house over the course of a few months later that year.
Billy hadn’t put two and two together with Steve’s surprise, of course, because Steve must have thought himself clever, inviting their friends - ie. Steve's friends and all Max's little nerdlings that were somehow just as involved in all the monster-y, government coverup bullshit he had found himself wrapped up in that summer - over the night before his birthday, telling Billy it was to watch a new movie he'd been able to rent as soon as it came out.
He should have seen right through that flimsy lie, given the significance of the next day that he was steadily trying not to think about, but he must have been itching for any sense of normalcy regardless, so he ate it right up.
All things considered, Billy was actually very proud of himself; when Steve came back into the den holding a cake in one hand and a lighter in the other, he managed to reign his anger in enough that all he did, in that room full of people he wasn't even sure actually liked him, was stomp up to Steve, firmly say, "No birthdays," plucking the lighter from his hand, and stormed off to the back porch to smoke a sorely needed cigarette.
Max found him a minute later, plopped her scrawny ass down next to his, and said, "I didn't know that's why we were invited over. I would have told him that was a bad idea." Billy appreciated the sentiment, but didn’t have it in him to do more than grunt out a response. Max just huffed out what might have been a laugh from anyone else, and shrugged her shoulders, an understanding settling neatly between them. Similarly to how things with Steve and their rivalry came into focus after the mall incident, Billy and Max had come to several quiet, or even completely unspoken, agreements, and were steadily on their way to what some might even consider a “normal” brother-sister relationship, and would later evolve into one of the most important relationships in his life.
It took Billy until Steve's next birthday to finally tell him why he would gladly celebrate Steve's, spending all afternoon in the kitchen baking him his favorite cake and spoiling him with all the gifts he could afford, but wouldn't even acknowledge his own birthday. What it didn’t take was an extensive explanation of his reasoning like Billy might have thought, with Steve instead sympathizing and understanding almost immediately, and vowing to honor Billy’s wishes on that front as long as he wished.
That year, Billy woke up alone on his birthday, the bed still warm where Steve had been laying all night, and yet uncharacteristically empty for 6am on a Saturday.
When he made his way to the kitchen to start the coffee pot, he found it already on and missing about 2 cups worth of coffee, but Steve was still nowhere to be seen.
As Billy turned toward the cup cabinet, he saw something else out of place. There was a plate with 2 chocolate chip cookies on it, next to a glass of milk - in one of Mrs. Harrington's fancy stemless wine glasses, he noted - and a small note that read, ‘today is a day’ in Steve's messy scrawl.
Billy laughed, quick and sharp and bubbling up out of him in wholly unexpected bursts.
He laughed so hard he thought he might cry right there in the kitchen.
And then he did cry, but only because he didn't know how else to express what it meant for Steve to go out of his way like that to simultaneously respect Billy's wishes to not celebrate his birthday, while still making sure Billy knew someone was there acknowledging it anyways.
He found Steve sitting on the back porch some time later, still nursing a cup of coffee that had to have been cold by then and reading the book he’d picked up the week before. Billy sat down in the chair next to Steve’s with his own mug of coffee and his second cookie, knocking his knee gently into Steve’s to get his attention. Steve looked up at Billy, almost hesitantly, like he was afraid he’d somehow crossed the line after all, but Billy just took a bite of the cookie, raised his coffee in a cheers motion, and said, “Today sure is a day, huh?”
And every year since then, Billy would wake up alone, but to the knowledge that in the kitchen, there would be a fresh pot of coffee, and two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies with a glass of milk, and he would have the whole morning to himself if he wanted it, able to simply appreciate the life he's been able to build, the people he has beside him, and that today certainly is a day.