Billy seemed to have his emotions more in check the next day. They had slept in the same bed the night before—in Steve's, because he had a King Double while Billy just had a Double—and he seemed to sleep through the whole night, even though he had slept through most of the day. They had packed up their bags before going to bed, since the flight that they were catching left at seven in the morning, so they would have to get up just after five and make sure they left their place by six, and they still had to call their bosses to give them an update on what was happening. When they got up the next morning, Billy groaned about having to get up earlier than usual, and it all felt so normal, and Steve guessed that Billy wanted to act as though it was, so he just played along.
"We'll just take a lyft," Billy said as he tapped away on his phone. "There's no fucking way I'm leaving my baby in airport parking, she'll get scratched or dented by other assholes who don't know how to drive." Steve nodded, not offering to pay for the car since he was already paying for the flights and he knew that Billy letting him do that was a big move. Steve had also booked a car for the next couple of days and it was going to be waiting for them at the Nashville airport when they got in, but he hadn't told Billy that yet.
Maybe Billy thought that Steve had organised for Lucas to pick them up, or even El Hopper, but Steve would deal with that once they got there.
Both of their bosses were understanding when they called in, repeating the same sort of things that they had said to Steve yesterday when he had spoken with them, saying they were sorry for the loss and to take what time they needed. Steve saw the appreciation on Billy's face when he was talking to his own boss—an older man who had taken Billy under his wing when he had come back to California when he was nineteen and who acted more like a father than Neil ever had—and he had squeezed Billy's hand before taking their breakfast dishes into the kitchen and quickly washing them out.
The lyft took them to the airport, and Billy rolled his eyes when he realized that the tickets were first class, but he really shouldn't have been surprised. Then they were boarding and getting comfortable, and Billy fell asleep promptly, one heavy hand resting on Steve's thigh as the plane took off.
The easy smile that Billy had on his face that morning, though, was gone when they landed in Nashville. Steve hated when Billy woke up and looked outside and saw where they were, saw that they were close to landing and only a couple of hours away from Hawkins, and he felt Billy's whole body tense up beside him. Billy's fingers curled into Steve's thigh almost painfully but Steve didn't say anything, just took in a deep breath as one of the air hostesses came down the aisle and announced that they were about to begin their descent, and to put their trays in the upright position and fasten their seat belts. They landed and filed off the plane, got their luggage and then started walking through the airport toward the front.
"Shit, wait," Billy suddenly stopped and Steve turned his head and slowed. "Is Max picking us up or something?"
"No, I, uh—hired a car," Steve replied and Billy looked at him for a long moment, people making disgruntled sounds as they had to move around the two men who were standing right in the middle of the floor, not even off to the side a little bit. Then, Billy nodded, and Steve was glad, because in his head, it really wasn't all that big of a deal, hiring a car with the credit card that he didn't even have to pay for. They got outside and then had to walk toward the parking garage, and the car was waiting for them where the confirmation email had told him it would be. It wasn't anything flash, nothing like Billy's baby back in the city, just a simple silver Mazda because Steve knew that Billy wouldn't be happy if he thought that Steve was spending too much money, especially after the first class tickets, and the keys were in a little lock box under the boot. "Did you want to drive?" Steve asked, holding the keys out to Billy.
"Nah," Billy replied almost instantly, tossing his bag into the boot of the car and moving around to the passenger side, and Steve tried not to keel over in shock, because Billy always drove. Even when it wasn't Billy's car, he always drove.
Steve blinked and swallowed hard, biting down on his bottom lip as he moved to the drivers side and got in. Billy got into the passenger side and put on the seat belt without saying anything and then he looked through the front window with a blank expression and it made Steve's stomach drop. Billy had seemed okay that morning, when they had been back in their apartment, and it was stupid of Steve to think that that was going to continue because his dad was dead but he really wasn't sure what to do.
"Um, there's an aux cord?" Steve said before he reversed the car out of the spot. "Do you want to put something on?" Billy looked down at the cord that Steve was offering and took it, plugging it into his phone, and then the speakers were blowing up so loudly that Steve's whole body jerked as Amon Amarth started screaming through the speakers.
Not his choice in music, but he could roll with it.
Nashville was about three hours from Hawkins. If Billy was driving, it would probably only be just over two hours, but Steve wasn't quite as scary when he was behind the wheel. About an hour into driving, the music changed, it wasn't quite as loud and the words weren't quite as indecipherable, and that was good, because Steve was pretty sure if the music played for much longer, he was going to end up with a headache. It was rock music, but he was pretty sure it was some old school, eighties rock band, and he could work with that.
And then another half hour later, Billy reached over and rested his large hand on Steve's thigh, giving it a bit of a squeeze and Steve looked over at him, ready to give him a soft smile, but Billy still wasn't looking at him.
They hadn't eaten, other than some of the food that had been brought around on the plane which really didn't do much, so Steve finally spoke after two hours in the car, suggesting they go through a drive thru somewhere to pick something up to eat. Billy had just grunted in reply, and Steve was really lost for something to say.
He knew that Billy didn't like Hawkins or his father.
He knew that he hadn't gone back to Hawkins or seen his father since he had left the day after graduation.
He didn't know what to say.
They were just waiting in line at the McDonalds drive thru when he was trying to think of something, when Billy spoke up.
"Did you bring any of your polish?" He asked, his voice sounding a little rough as he ran his thumb over one of Steve's nails, where the dark blue polish was chipped. "These need a touch up." Steve looked down at his nails and made a face.
"No...I didn't pack any," he muttered. "And I don't have any back at my house, either. I tried it on once when I was living at home, I think Nancy put it on me...It just so happened to be the only weekends that my father was home. He really did not like it, and so I never put it on again. Not until I moved away and, I dunno..." Steve shrugged. "I dunno," he repeated. "Not again until later." Billy licked his lips and tipped his head to the side and then squeezed his fingers again.
"I love your painted nails," he said quietly. "It sounds like we both lost in the dad lottery."
"I think you lost harder," Steve replied without really thinking and then he heard a snort from Billy and the smile on the blondes face actually looked genuine, so he counted it as a win.
"Yeah, I think I probably did. Neil was a fucking asshole," Billy agreed. "We should buy you some more polish once we get back to bloody Hawkins," he said, switching the subject up completely. "Get them all painted back up." The car behind them honked and Steve realized that they had been sitting there for a while and there were two free spots in front of them in the drive thru. Steve pressed his foot down gently on the accelerator and the car eased forward until they were in front of the speaker box, and they placed their order. Once they got to the window and paid—Billy insisting on covering it since Steve had gotten the car without telling him—Billy had to let go of Steve's hand, and then once they got their food and started eating while driving, it wasn't as though they could hold hands again then, which was unfortunate, because Steve's hand missed Billy's warmth.
They finished their food and shoved everything into the paper bag so that they could easily carry it to a bin once they got to Steve's parents place, and by the time that was all done, the area around them was really familiar to Steve. As in, it was somewhere he had driven on a pretty regular basis when he had been in high school, and had been getting stoned with his other basketball mates, or going out with someone to make out in his car. Then they passed the road that led to where the Byers used to live and that was pretty much it; they were in Hawkins. An old wooden sign that was so faded it was barely readable declared just a minute later down the road.
"I fucking hate this place," Billy said under his as they got closer to the township and the houses started to get closer together.
"I know," Steve said quietly, and then he reached out, resting his hand at the nape of Billy's neck, fingers gently pressing through the curls there and against his skin. Billy was tense, his shoulders were rigid and his back was ramrod straight, although the simple touch of Steve's fingertips seemed to help. Billy let out a heavy breath through his teeth and flexed his fingers on his lap, wiping his palms on his jeans. "I thought we could go straight to my parents place? Unpack first?" Billy had made it clear that there was no way he was staying in the house that he had lived in with Neil, Susan and Max when they had lived in Hawkins, and part of Steve wondered if Billy was willing to go there at all.
"Yeah," Billy nodded, sounding a little relieved. "I guess I should text Max." He had to shift around a bit to pull his phone out of the pocket of the tight jeans he was wearing, and Steve tried to be completely focused on the road, to give Billy some sort of semblance of privacy, even though they were stuck in the car. Billy took his time, thumbs sort of floating in the air above the screen of his phone for a few minutes before he finally started tapping out a message. They reached the township, and Steve hadn't been back in about a year and a half now, and it was funny, because it was like Hawkins was forever going to be stuck in a time bubble, never changing.
The arcade, the old theatre, the ancient looking police station with its old cruisers, the Scoops Ahoy ice cream parlor where Steve had decided to get a job in his senior year because Jonathan and Nancy were both working and Joyce Byers had told him that it helped to 'build character'.
"I've only been to your place once," Billy said as they moved out of town and headed toward the nicer streets. "A party after a basketball game." Steve knew that party he was talking about, because Billy and Max only moved to the town when Steve was in his senior year, and that was when he had actually been dating Nancy and he hadn't been throwing as many parties anymore. He tried to think back to Billy being there, and it wasn't hard, because Billy had always been very good at making himself the centre of attention at the party.
He was pretty sure Billy was the one who graduated the party from being a normal party to being a pool party, even though it had been a freezing night.
Actually, no.
Steve knew Billy had been the one to graduate the party to a pool party because he had been making out with Nancy up in his room when he had heard a splash from outside and he had run to his window to look outside and he had seen the cover of the pool half pulled back and Billy in the pool with his shirt off, skin gleaming in the outside lights that someone had turned on.
It hadn't been the first time Steve had been physically attracted to Billy—and it definitely wasn't the last—even if it had meant that Steve had to spend the whole next day collecting red solo cups and chip packets and beer bottles out of the pool.
"I remember," Steve shot Billy a crooked smile and Billy actually looked a bit surprised, but then he smiled back, and he pressed his head back, harder into the hand that Steve still had resting on his neck. Steve felt a little nostalgic as he drove through his old neighbourhood, getting closer and closer to his old home, and when he turned down the driveway, with it's perfectly mown lawn and hedges all the same height and roses pruned just right, he realized not for the first time that he was really glad that he lived nothing like this now. "I like our apartment," he said abruptly and Billy turned his head to look at him.
"Yeah?" He said with a slight smirk of his own that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was obviously feeling uneasy but didn't want to talk about it, which was about right when it came to Billy. He was always the first to bring up something when he knew that it was bothering Steve, he could pick up on it straight away and never let Steve brush it off, but he hated talking about when things were weighing on his mind. Sometimes Steve would push it, but right now, given the circumstances, he left it. "You prefer our place over this—this literal mansion?" He asked as Steve's car came to a stop outside the house.
"Yup," Steve replied simply, without a second thought, because it was true. Hell, even the tiny, two-bedroomed, cluttered cabin that Chief Hopper had was more of a home than this. "This is just...It's just a place. It's not a home. Not like our apartment." Billy blinked at Steve as he took in what he had said, then he was leaning in, across the centre console and pressing his lips against Steve's firmly in a kiss. Steve's whole body melted into the kiss, especially when Billy reached out and gripped his shirt, holding him in place. When they pulled apart, Billy tilted his face up to press a kiss to Steve's nose and then settled back in his seat.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's do this." Steve unbuckled his seat belt and got out first, letting Billy take his time, going to the boot and taking out his bag and then walking up to the front door. He still had a key for the house on his key ring, and the security alarm code was his mothers birthday, and then he was quiet as he looked around the foyer of the house.
It smelt a little musty, like no one had opened up any windows in a few days or so, which would make sense, because the cleaners only used to come by once a week when there was no one in the house, and Steve set about opening up the place, walking into the kitchen and opening up the ones there, and then the double doors that lead out to the backyard, where the pool was.
He wondered if the pool was even still full, with only his parents living here.
He was pretty sure he had never seen either of them in there, even when he was younger and learning to swim—there'd been a few nannies who helped him with his floaties and then he'd had private lessons at the country club when he got a bit older.
"Uh, Stevie?" Came a voice from behind him, and he turned to see Billy looking at him. "There's a brat here." El Hopper stepped out from behind Billy, giving him a narrow look before reaching up to flick him behind the ear.
"I resent that," she grumbled and Billy just rolled his eyes at her before putting his bag on the kitchen bench and moving to open up some of the cupboards and look inside. "Hey, Steve."
"Hey, El," Steve gave her a smile, and despite the circumstances that had brought him back to his hometown, he was glad to see her, because they never got to see her enough anymore. "It's good to see you." She smiled back at him, crossing the kitchen to wrap her arms around Steve and give him a tight hug. Steve hugged her back, but he continued to watch Billy move across the other side of the centre island.
"Hop and Joyce want you guys to come for dinner tonight," she said, and the way she phrased it left little argument.
"How'd they even know we were coming?" Billy asked.
"They just knew," El shrugged, Steve's arm still over her shoulders. Her hair was longer than it had been back in high school, when it had been curly and barely past the nape of her neck. The longer it had gotten the straighter it fallen, the weight pulling out the curls and turning them into soft waves. "Lucas and Max are going to be there as well. So—seven work?" She reached up to give Steve a kiss on the cheek and then pulled away, moving around the island, as though her question settled it all. But then she stopped by Billy, who was opening the third cupboard, and she wrapped both of her arms around him, plastering herself against his back. "I'm sorry you had to come back here," she said against Billy's shoulder blade, and he stopped what he was doing, hands still resting on the cupboards doors, taking in a deep breath.
Steve watched them for a moment, before El was letting Billy go and leaving the kitchen and Billy slumped against the bench, dropping his hands to the counter top. They heard the sound of El's car leaving and Steve walked over to Billy, imitating that position El had been in, but since he was taller, he was able to hook his chin over Billy's shoulder.
"I'm sorry you had to come back here too, if that wasn't clear," he said quietly and Billy huffed.
"It's not as though he was just an asshole here, or anything," Billy murmured after a few moments, and Steve blinked, looking down at Billy's hands that were spread out on the white counter top. They were tense, and there were a couple of scars, and the fingertips were actually completely clean, which wasn't always common for him, given how hard it was to get the oil and grease out from the grooves of his fingers after working at the garage all day. "It's not even like the worst shit happened here. It's just that...None of the good shit happened here as well, you know? At least back in Cali, my mum had been there until I was eleven, and my grandparents, and my friends...The year here was just...It was just shit." Steve tightened his arms around Billy, and then turned his head to the side and pressed a soft kiss against Billy's neck.
"I'm sorry we weren't friends in high school," he said and Billy shrugged a shoulder.
"Honestly, it's probably better that we weren't," he replied, and then he was turning around to face Steve, one hand going to Steve's hip and the other reaching up to his face. "We had a couple of run-ins already, and if we were around each other more often, it might have been worse," he winced when his fingers brushed aside Steve's fringe, and touched the small scar just under his hairline. "I wasn't really in the place for friends anyway."
"Yeah, Tommy really was more like your groupie than your friend," Steve gave Billy a small smile, trying to lighten the mood and Billy gave him a smile back, but it didn't make his eyes light up like it usually did, which made Steve sad, because Billy's eyes were so pretty when they lit up.
"Tommy was a dipshit," Billy rolled his eyes. "The brains of that operation was Carol, and the last I heard, Tommy was dumb enough to let her go."
"Yeah, I saw that on Facebook," Steve shrugged.
"I'm sorry I, like...Stole them from you, or whatever," Billy made a face and Steve barked out a laugh.
"Don't even worry," he snorted and shook his head. "My friendship with Tommy and Carol was on it's way to the pits long before you came into town. You weren't even the tipping point, just another part of the downhill journey of that part of my life," he shrugged again. Billy nodded and then took in a deep breath, that was just a little shaky at the end, as he looked around the kitchen. When his eyes landed back on Steve, there was something a bit cheeky shining in them, which Steve was glad to see.
"You ever been blown in here?" He asked. Steve tipped his head to the side as he thought, letting out a hum, remembering a fumble around with a guy who was friends with someone from their school, he honestly couldn't even remember his name, it had just been some fun after he and Nancy had broken up and he had realized that maybe he was also interested in guys.
"Once, but it wasn't any good," he replied and Billy snorted.
"Well, let's fix that. You know I'm always good," he smirked and Steve was about to smirk back, but then Billy was backing him up against the marble centre island, and his hands were both on his hips, and then Billy was easily lifting him up. "Get these off..." Billy grunted and Steve braced his hands behind him for balance, lifting his hips up so that Billy could pull his jeans and briefs down in one go, down to his knees. Steve let out a hiss when his bare ass came in contact with the cold marble, but then Billy's lips were forming a circle around his cock, wet and hot, and sliding down to take him almost all the way in and Steve was sufficiently distracted.
"Fuck!" Steve cried out, unable to stop his hips from thrusting forward to meet Billy's warm mouth, but Billy's hands went back to his hips, thumbs pressing in firm enough to leave marks, holding him still. Steve left one hand resting on the bench behind him, the other going to Billy's curls, pulling at them as his eyes rolled back as Billy's mouth worked him over. "Billy, baby—fuck!" He tugged at Billy's curls, attempting to roll his hips again, but Billy's hands were firm.
He loved it.
Sometimes he didn't like it when the person he was with tried to control the whole situation, because one of his boyfriends from a while ago had been like that, and it hadn't been great.
But it was different with Billy, because Billy was safe—even though the blonde would snort with amused laughter if he ever heard Steve describe him that way.
Billy's tongue worked over the head of Steve's cock, suckling at it for a moment before sliding all the way back down, and Steve could feel the spongy head hitting the back of Billy's throat, and Billy didn't even gag or react to the feeling, and then he was somehow opening his mouth even more, and there was warmth and spit dripping down onto his balls and Steve groaned.
"Billy, I'm gonna—baby, I'm gonna—" Billy didn't stop, he just kept on sucking, until Steve's body jerked and he was coming in Billy's mouth. The blonde kept his mouth around Steve's cock, his tongue gently licking up and down the sides, drinking back all of the cum, even when Steve started twitching on the counter top from oversensitivity, and when he deemed that he had done enough, he reached up and pressed his lips to Steve's. Steve didn't care that Billy's tongue tasted like him, he put his hands on either side of Billy's face and held him there.
Ever since this thing between them had started, they had become more affectionate and more tactile. They had already been super tactile, which was odd for both of them, so really, the only way for them to get closer would be kissing and sleeping together.
It wasn't all the time, sometimes days would pass without them kissing, and Steve missed it when it didn't happen, but he didn't push it, because he didn't want Billy to feel uncomfortable or to risk putting a stop to what they had. There weren't any clear cut boundaries which made things a little confusing, but Steve didn't know how to have that conversation. He really didn't like having those kind of Talks.
"You want me to help?" Steve asked, lifting one of his knees and rubbing it pointedly against Billy's thigh.
"I'm assuming you guys have at least three showers up in this place, right?" Billy asked with a smirk.
"Four, actually," he corrected Billy.
"Then let's pick the best one and you can blow me in there," Billy grinned.
Billy was nervous going around to Chief Hopper and Joyce's place. He was never very good when it came to people that were just there to be nice to him. Steve hadn't even thought about it, but on the way over, he realized that Billy hadn't actually seen Hopper since leaving Hawkins—even though he spent a lot of time with their kids over the past few years, it wasn't as though he had anything to do with Joyce or Hopper.
Plus, there was the whole part about him being arrested twice by Hopper when he had lived in Hawkins, and the fact that when he had actually given Steve the scar by breaking a dinner plate over his forehead had happened right outside the old Byers place.
But only a few minutes in, and Billy was clearly settling down.
El had dragged him into the lounge and pushed him into the couch and given him a playstation controller and they were playing Crash Team Racing, and Lucas was there as well, sitting on the ground and cheering El on, and Max was sitting on the back of the couch, cheering for her step-brother, and the whole thing made Steve breathe the easiest he had since he had picked up the phone call from Lucas. Steve split his time between the lounge and helping Joyce in the kitchen, given Hopper had ended up having to work a little bit later so she had put off cooking until Billy and Steve had arrived, and it was always nice spending time with Joyce.
She was quiet and reserved, but she saw everything, just like Will and Jonathan, and she had lost a lot, in one way or another—her husband, Will for a short while and then Bob Newby, a man she had been dating who had died in a horrible fire that had happened at work—and both her boys had felt guilty and worried when they had left home. But maybe it had been for the best, because once Will had left, that was when she and Chief Hopper had finally gotten together, and now they were engaged, and she and Hopper had found a new place together, somewhere for them to make new memories together, with their new joint family.
"How's your boy doing?" Joyce asked when Steve came back into the kitchen and put down his bottle of beer. "Can you take the pie out of the oven for me, dear?" Steve nodded, putting oven mitts on both hands before he opened the oven door and took out the glass dish. It smelt amazing, and he told Joyce so.
"He's okay, I guess," Steve shrugged a shoulder as he took off the oven mitts and put them on the bench. "I mean, I don't think they've talked in years, but...It's still his dad." Joyce was straining the water from the vegetables and then moving to get plates and utensils out.
"Jonathan and Will...Their father died about four years ago," Joyce said quietly. "Will went to the funeral but Jonathan didn't." Steve knew that their father had died, and he knew that neither of them had had any contact with their father for a few years before then. Once, when they had gotten drunk, Jonathan had talked about his father, and said that his father had gambled all the money away that they had in the bank, making them late, time and time again for the mortgage payments on the house. Then when Joyce had tried to bring it up with him, trying to get him to find help, trying to remind him that they had children relying on them, he had hit her, over and over again.
Will didn't remember much of it, because of how young he was, but Jonathan did, and he swore never to see him again, after he had left the house for the last time.
He didn't resent his brother going to the funeral, and he hadn't talked to his brother about what he remembered because he didn't want to dump any of that on his brother and make him feel guilty for wanting to say goodbye to his father.
"Jonathan doesn't regret not going," Joyce said quietly. "I thought he might, I tried to tell him to go, but now...I think that he was better off not going," she shrugged. "That's how some people heal, by accepting the past, closing the lid and moving on. It's not how everyone does it, but some people do. Hopefully, for Billy...Hopefully this will help him to heal." Steve nodded and took in a deep breath through his nose. He picked up his beer and was about to go back into the lounge when he stopped, his mind flickering back to something that Joyce had said right at the beginning of the conversation.
"Wait, you—you called him my boy..." Steve trailed off at the small smile on Joyce's face and the knowing glint in her eye.
"I did," she replied simply. Steve blinked at her and his brain was trying to formulate a reply when he heard the sound of an engine outside, indicating that Hopper was home. Joyce leaned forward and squeezed Steve's arm before turning back to the plates that she had laid out. "Now, go round up the kids. Dinners ready."