billy hargrove is not clingy.
well…not in public. not around the kids. not around joyce or hopper. not around anyone who might dare to comment on it.
in public he’s all sharp edges and crossed arms and “don’t touch me unless you want to lose a hand.”
well it took a bit of time, but in private he’s a koala.
the second the door closes behind them, something in him just… drops. the tension in his shoulders, the guarded look in his eyes, the whole “i’m tough and nothing bothers me” act disappears completely.
steve barely has time to take off his shoes before billy is on him.
arms around his waist. face tucked into his neck. whole body pressed against him like he’s trying to fuse them together.
steve pretends to be surprised every time.
“wow, someone missed me.”
billy grumbles into his shirt. “shut up.”
steve moves around the house with billy attached to him like a very warm, very stubborn backpack. billy would follow him into the kitchen, into the living room, into the hallway with arms still around him, chin hooked over his shoulder, refusing to give him even an inch of space.
he loves the weight of billy leaning on him. he loves the way billy’s fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. he loves the quiet little sigh billy makes when steve runs a hand through his hair. he loves that billy trusts him enough to be soft.
sometimes billy will flop onto the couch first, tugging steve down with him until steve is basically lying on top of him and he’d wrap his arms around him, tight, like he’s afraid steve might disappear if he loosens his grip.
steve loves resting his head on billy’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as billy strokes his back in slow, absentminded circles.
“you’re so clingy,” steve murmurs.
“you literally haven’t let go of me for an hour.”
billy shrugs, tightening his hold. “i’m comfortable.”
steve smiles into his shirt. “you’re so cute.”
billy groans. “don’t start.”
steve just kisses over his shirt where his heart is.
and at night… that’s when billy gets the clingiest.
they get into bed and billy immediately pulls steve into his chest, arms wrapped around him like a shield. sometimes he hooks a leg over steve’s too, just to make sure he’s not going anywhere.
steve teases him for it and billy just mumbles a half-asleep, “whatever” but steve loves these sorta cuddles.
because billy clinging to him isn’t neediness, it’s trust. it’s safety. it’s the quiet, unspoken truth that billy feels most at peace when he’s wrapped around steve.
steve holds him just as tightly.
because he loves being needed. he loves being the one billy reaches for. he loves every second of being billy’s safe place.
and if billy wants to cling to him all night?
steve will happily let him.
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