#like cool and all but come on his step-dad is freaking King of the Infinite Realms

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Merry Christmas, King Steve

Note: I at least managed ONE Christmas ficlet. This goes right out to @inkedplume. CONFIDENT STEVE/BEARDED SOFT BILLS. MERRY CHRISTMAS, XI!

Billy resisted the urge to light a cigarette and instead took another sip of coffee before stroking the beard he’d grown for winter. His breath puffed in a little cloud of steam. 

It was cold as shit on Christmas Eve and there was no reason to be standing on the porch of Hop’s old trailer at ten in the morning, staring at the iced over lake. Except that he had to admit, the scene was breathtakingly beautiful. The trees were all blanketed in white, little icicles hanging from the trailer's eaves dripping above him. For once, he wasn’t cold. He was well bundled up. Long underwear, a t-shirt, a thermal, a flannel shirt, and the Susan had given him. Long underwear under his jeans. The scarf Mrs. Henderson had knitted for him. A thick wool hat. When he didn’t dress warmly enough, he shivered and shuddered and then either Max or Robin or even Steve lectured him about how he had to keep warm and stay healthy.

He couldn’t take it from Steve.

He couldn’t take anything from Steve these days.

King Steve was back, if he had ever gone away. He always greeted Billy with a sure grin.

“Hey there, Tiger.” Then Steve would wink and Billy would inwardly collapse.

Tiger. 

Steve called him Tiger.

Sometimes he called Billy “Blondie.”

The first time Steve had come out with one of those affectionate little nicknames, Billy had turned crimson and retreated into his hoodie. 

Steve flirted, winked, brought Billy warm brownies he made himself, made sure Billy was going to his doctor’s appointments, and took him out to lunch. He took Billy to the movies with Robin. He gave Billy free rentals.

They were friends. Good friends. But Billy felt like he was being...courted. 

Normally, he would have complained...

“What am I? A goddamn maiden faire? Christ, Harrington.” He might have said that a year ago.

Now he couldn’t think of anything to say at all.

He didn’t want it to stop.

“I just wanted to tell you,” Steve had said to him a few weeks ago, leaning too close for Billy to think clearly as they smoked behind the video store in the snow. “I know you’re not ready yet. For you and me? It’s okay. I’ll wait as long as you need. I promise. Just let me know, Blondie. I’ll come running.”

Wink.

That grin.

Billy had laid in bed thinking of nothing else every night ever since.

The thought of it had filled him with anxiety, dread, terror… Not really the things you wanted to feel around the guy you were madly in love with.

Then on December 23, he woke up and thought: Today.

He held on to the clarity of the thought and wrote a note and marched to Family Video early before his own shift at the library.

He walked into the video store and found Steve setting up his register for the day. 

Steve looked up at Billy and beamed. “Hey there, Tiger! Whatcha up to?”

Billy coughed and said, “I just uh...want to… Goddammit! Just take this!” He took the letter out of his pocket--a folded piece of paper ripped from one of his old notebooks--and slammed it down on the counter. The paper was slightly damp from the snow, but he was pretty sure it would still be legible.

Steve-

I’m ready. For you and me. Romance wise. If that’s still cool. Come over tomorrow morning if you got nothing better to do.

Later-

B

It wasn’t exactly an epic confession of love. It wasn’t remotely smooth. But it was something.

Billy spun on his heel before Steve could read the terrible note in front of him, and all but ran out the door.

“Later!” He hollered on his way out.

Steve had not called him to confirm that he was coming over, or to confirm that he hadn’t changed his mind about the whole romance thing, or to confirm that he’d even read the note.

Billy had not slept much.

He sipped coffee and kept his gaze on the iced over lake. It was kind of calming.

He liked the quiet of snow, even if the cold sucked.

“Hey, Blondie!”

Steve took him completely by surprise. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the ice, but he hadn’t heard Steve’s boots crunching through the snow and suddenly there Steve was, at the bottom of the few steps, happily squinting up at Billy. 

“Hey. Harrington.” Billy swallowed, struggling to maintain his composure.

Steve had actually come over!

He watched Steve climb the steps. He was carrying a paper bag.

Steve was wearing an expensive looking cream colored sweater. Billy guessed cashmere. He wore a forest green parka over it. His hair was perfect as usual. His cheeks were rosy and his lips red from the cold. 

Billy sighed.

“Hope it’s not too early.” Steve shrugged, looking deceptively sheepish. 

Billy didn’t buy that attitude for a second. Steve had walked around for months like he knew exactly what he wanted and just a few weeks ago Billy had learned that what Steve wanted most was Billy.

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the 80s.

“No,” Billy rasped. “It’s cool. Um… yeah. Good. I got nothing to do. Just thought it’d be cool to hang out. Whatever.”

“Mmmhmm.” Steve walked up to Bily who nodded to himself, opening the front door and letting them both into the toasty warm trailer. Steve barged in, crossed the room to the kitchen and set the bag on the counter. Billy hovered in the living room, leaning on the front door now shut behind him. “I bought some stuff. Thought you might be sick of my brownies. But Dustin’s mom won’t stop baking pies and I got cookies and a casserole? That one’s from my mom actually. She cooks a lot around Christmas. And I stole a really good brandy from my dad.”

Steve crossed back over to Billy and slipped off his parka, laying it over a chair like he did it everyday. Like he lived there.

He walked up to Billy and took the empty mug that Billy still clutched in his hands and set it on a table. “I was really happy to get that note,” Steve said softly. He looked Billy up and down like he was the Billy of 1984 and not the town freak 1985, a bearded weirdo in flannel who had come back from the dead and could barely speak to strangers and who had found a measure of bliss working at the library with Mrs. Edmund who smelled like tuna. “Are you okay?” Steve said.

Billy licked his lips and said, “I’m just fine, King Steve. How are you?”

Steve chuckled at that and then he took Billy’s sleeves and gently tugged him forward. “I’m excellent.” 

He kissed Billy firmly and Billy sighed into it and half fell into Steve who seemed happy to catch him before pushing Billy’s parka off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. 

“God, that beard,” Steve whispered. He pecked Billy on the lips again and then nuzzled his cheek against Billy’s beard. “I like it.”

“Oh. Cool.” Billy thought that was what he said. He wasn’t sure. He felt a bit woozy. He spread his palms along Steve’s chest and the sensation of that firm, lean body under that infinitely soft sweater was overwhelming.

Steve kissed his chin, his cheek, his bottom lip…

“I want to unwrap you like a present,” Steve whispered. “And then I want that beard between my thighs. Is that cool?”

“Funny, that’s exactly what I wanted for Christmas,” Billy said.

Steve laughed into his neck. “I had a feeling. Merry Christmas, Tiger.”

“Merry Christmas, King Steve.”

#harringrove #harringrove ficlet