big heart, big adorer

What he had experienced, really, was Steve Harrington.

It had been the summer of experiencing a boy who was all milky-white skin and long limbs that wrapped around Billy's body so easily. Highlights in his soft, chocolate-brown hair under the Midwestern sun.

Hushed whispers and breathy gasps in tangled sheets as Billy's lips aimed kisses at every single mole he could find on Steve's body. Giddy promises in the middle of the night as they shared a cigarette by Steve's parents' pool.

It had been the summer of picking Steve up from work, eagerly waiting at the farthest corner of the parking lot for Steve to come out so Billy could give him shit for the ridiculous sailor outfit they made him wear as a uniform. Knowing full well he was going to ask Steve to keep the shirt on when they'd pull over to the quarry and he'd have the boy in his lap, riding him like his life depended on it and making Billy come his brains out.

The summer of tasting cherry lip balm every time he kissed Steve. He had developed an almost Pavlovian response to seeing Steve apply and reapply that lip balm. He was immediately in Steve's space, kissing him, tasting artificial cherry, making his boy giggle and playfully try to push Billy away because he was just making him waste product at this point.

At the end of that summer, Billy had left without a warning, because, well, it was always going to end that way. He had packed up his things and driven off into the sunset, leaving his sunshine behind.

Those cherry red lips still haunted Billy's dreams. Pouting at him, all plush and adorable, the most perfect mouth Billy had ever kissed.

He had stolen one of those cherry lip balms from Steve. The boy hated having dry, chapped lips, had multiple lip balms lying around, so Billy had counted on him not noticing that one was missing.