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They’ve already told everyone. Max just scoffed and said she already knew. Dustin groaned that he owed Mike $5. Even Steve’s parents, who reacted to his coming out with stiff smiles, which is all he could have hoped for.
Well… they told everyone but one person.
“Lucha!” Billy clapped hard, “Lucha no!”
The thing with cats is that Steve always heard they could be unfriendly. But he hasn’t been prepared for how unfriendly they could be.
Lucha looked up at Billy from where he was attacking Steve’s foot with razor sharp claws, and then bounded away suddenly to the bedroom.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Billy rubbed the back of Steve’s neck, “He’ll get over it.”
Steve could hear Argyle speaking soothingly to the cat in the next room.
But when he tried to go to the bedroom that night Lucha arched his back and hissed.
“Amigo, what is up,” Billy scooped up the little black ball of rage, “It’s just Stevie. He’s gonna sleep over ok?”
All Billy got was a slow blink, a sign of affection according to Argyle.
And then Lucha turned in Billy’s arms, and looked at Steve with his ears pulled back, giving him a single, deliberate hiss.
“I don’t have to sleep over,” Steve muttered.
And now he has to deal with two people looking at him in abject betrayal.
“No, Lucha can sleep with Argyle tonight.”
“Billy-“
“It’s crazy that I have an apartment, and my boyfriend won’t even sleep over,” Billy frowned, “He’s just a cat! He’s seven pounds!”
But it’s not the cat part. Lucha is Billy’s little guy. He sleeps on his chest most nights, head nestled in the crook of Billy’s neck. They’re best friends. And yeah, it’s a cat. But Steve is just a guy.
He doesn’t know what to do. And maybe it’s just him falling back on bullshit, but he pretends it’s ok, even as he puts on his shoes and kisses Billy goodbye surreptitiously, behind the door.
He feels sick for being jealous of a cat. Maybe if he hadn’t been so jealous all the time his past relationships wouldn’t have been such disasters… not that he wants things to work out with anyone but Billy. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he shut a cat out of their bedroom? What kind of asshole would do that?
The whole thing has him feeling sort of small and mixed up.
“Hello people of Family Video!” And it’s the worst time in the world for Eddie Munson of all people to walk through the door. Like yeah, they’re friends now, but sometimes Eddie’s voice just grates on his nerves.
Also he’s Billy’s ex. So. Jealousy. But he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t feel as bad shutting Eddie out of their bedroom.
“Hey,” Steve scowls, “We didn’t get that Japanese movie in yet.”
“Damn,” Eddie frowned, “What’s wrong Stevie, my man?”
Steve knew his face was contorting all kinds of ways.
“You ok? Bad burrito?”
Steve scoffed, “No it’s… Billy’s cat.”
“Lucharito? Aw man I miss that little guy,” Eddie grins, toying with a big shiny cross necklace that Steve’s never noticed before, hanging right where his guitar pick used to be.
Steve frowns, “Yeah, well, he hates me so feel free to visit. I won’t bother you.”
Eddie just laughs, “I mean, of course he does.”
“Excuse me? Most animals actually like me, Munson-“
“No, I mean Lucha doesn’t like people with short hair,” Eddie shook his head, “Never has.”
Steve freezes, “What?”
“When Billy and Hopper picked him out from the shelter, they said he’d been abused,” Eddie shakes his head, “I guess it was a guy with short hair, clean shaven. Because Lucha about lost it when Hopper shaved the beard.”
Steve just blinks at him, reaching up to touch the nape of his neck.
“Don’t take it personal,” Eddie shrugs, “He’s just a cat.”
But he wasn’t just a cat. Steve thinks of the time he’d tried to be a little rough in the bedroom and grabbed Billy’s lapels. Billy had backed up into the wall, eyes wide with fear. He thought about Lucha when Billy would text him photos, perched on Billy’s shoulders, hands pawing in Billy’s curls that spilled down his neck, or napping next to Argyle, on a bed of dark hair.
He wasn’t supposed to see Billy for a few days, the mechanics shop was busy putting on snow tires for the holiday season, so by the time they saw each other again, he only hoped it would be enough.
“Looking scruffy there,” Billy cocked his head to the side when Steve walked in the apartment, kicking off his sneakers.
“Yeah,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “You don’t hate it, right? Trying to grow it out.”
It was just scruff, but Steve’s hair was dark enough that it showed up strongly.
“I like it,” Billy’s tongue swipes his bottom lip, “I like it just fine, but what brought this on, Pretty boy?”
Lucha slid across the hardwood, looking up at them with wide green eyes.
“Hey,” Steve said softly.
Lucha didn’t move, just staring at him. But he didn’t arch his back and hiss immediately, so that was something.
Steve knelt down, “Hey, little guy.”
Lucha leaned forward and sniffed the tip of Steve’s fingers, and then turned, sleek black tail curling into a graceful question mark.
“Whoa,” Billy laughed, “Lucha, he’s my guy, ok?”
“What?”
“The curly tail, it means they like you.”
Steve stood, sliding a hand softly around Billy’s waist, how he liked to be touched, “I have room in my life for both of you.”