Do you like Phil Collins?🍂

It was mutual, both parties deciding they were better off as friends. Still, every time the rest of the group got together, the atmosphere itself seemed broken, too. Maybe it was because Steve had very clearly not moved on. Billy didn’t understand it, but then again, he’d never really been in love, or vice versa.

Being the new member, and an introvert slash selective extrovert, he always seemed to end up right next to a moping Steve. The scratchy silence was agonizing, especially during New Year’s Eve, for... reasons. Billy couldn’t complain, though. His painfully obvious and unrequited crush on Steve could not have come at a worse time. That’s the thing about romance, Billy groused silently, tearing his eyes away from Steve’s pretty face.

He was pretty sure everyone else knew. Everyone else except for him.

“Not a bad spread, eh, Pretty Boy?”

Steve startled out of his stupor, and nodded, grinning goofily at Billy. Perhaps he’d had too much to drink. For him to get honest-to-God shit-faced, would take an impressive amount of alcohol.

This just may be the only thing besides playing basketball in high school that they have in common. Oh, and the whole pining thing.

“You must think I’m pretty pathetic,” Steve burped, not even bothering to cover his mouth. Yep, he was on a bender.

Billy shrugged. “You miss Nancy,” he replied, and Steve shook his head fervently, burping again. “Am I wrong?”

“I hic miss Nancy, okay, yeah. But it’s... more than that. I’m happy that she’s happy, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy hic for her-”

Before he could stop himself, Billy interjected, “You don’t seem like you are.”

Steve blinked sluggishly, then snorted. “That obvious, huh?”

“A little.” Try a lot.

Bubbles shot out of Steve’s nose as he snorted into his empty wine glass. “Ouch.”

Well, you’ve done it. You’re about to get friend-dumped.

“Has anyone ever told you-”

“-how much of an ass I am? Ye-ah,” Billy sighed, starting to get up. As someone with a shit load of anxiety, he always noted where the exits and restrooms were, along with where he put his stuff, in case he needed to make an embarrassing escape.

Steve grabbed his wrist, and squeezed it greedily, like he was drowning and Billy’s the only thing closest to him to resemble a floatation device. Billy didn’t -couldn’t- pull away from him, or those big, brown voids on either side of Steve’s face. Weak even at his grown age.

“Steve... what... what are you doing?”

“Sit with me. Stay.” There was nothing but desperation and loneliness in his voice. “Please?”

“I don’t have to work until next week,” Billy joked weakly, allowing himself to be pulled back to the couch. So close to Steve and yet so far. This would be the closest he’d ever come to confessing that he’d always make time for Steve Harrington.

“I love... love,” Steve said, resting his head on Billy’s shoulder. Billy swallowed, hoping the older man couldn’t hear his rapidly beating heart.

“What?”

“Ya know... hic* love. I love... the feeling. The idea of it. Falling for someone. When Nancy and I were hic together-”

Billy couldn’t help but groan. He did and didn’t want to hear about his friends’ sex lives. Now might as well be the time to confess that he had a crush on Nancy, too. Well, not a crush, exactly, but... he felt something for her. He just wasn’t sure what to call it yet. Or maybe he didn’t want to accept that he c-worded not one, but two unobtainable people.

“I would... hic say “I love you” all hic the time, and Nancy would hic never say it back. I never understood why until now. I said it not hic hic just because hic I loved her, but... because I wanted her to stay with me. I was lonely. We both were. She’s so easy to fall in love with,” Steve said, a wistful look in his eyes.

“She is,” Billy agreed too quickly that he thanked fuck his companion was so out of it.

“I wasn’t willing to hic give, ya know? Nance gave and hic gave, and I just... hic couldn’t hic figure out how hic to give hic her what hic she hic deserved. I hic guess it’s hic hereditary. I really hic hic mean hic it, I’m hic -appy for her.”

For the first time, Billy believed him. He set down his beer and squeezed Steve’s slightly larger hand. Steve gasped, and returned the squeeze. Warmth filled Billy like someone lit a fire up his ass, and he bit clean through his bottom lip. Where was everyone else? Why couldn’t he notice anyone else right now... anyone else other than Steve?

“I’m just hic s-so hic hic lonely. Empty.” The sweaty hold he had on Billy’s hand tightened as he talked. Drunk Steve was everything Sober Steve couldn’t be. Vulnerable. Openly affectionate towards another man. With Billy of all people. So this was what it was like...

He rubbed his sore chest with his free hand, willing himself not to cry. Steve wouldn’t know it, but Billy and the audience would.

“Are hic you hic crying?” No mockery, no bullshit passed down from generation to generation about how “men don’t cry”.

“N-no,” Billy choked out.

Steve turned to him, expression sweeter than honey, and he began to wipe away Billy’s tears clumsily with his thumbs. Billy was so dumbstruck, he forgot to flinch. No one ever got this close to him, to his face. The touch-starved blond cried even harder, digging his nails into his palm. Steve almost poked Billy’s eyes in a race to wipe away the rest of Billy’s tears. He wouldn’t stop staring! Billy tried to hide his face, but he couldn’t let go of Steve’s hand. He couldn’t stop leaning into the other hand cupping his wet cheek. He was completely and utterly fucked.

“Hey,” Steve muttered, burping in Billy’s face.

Ew. Just. Ew. “Hey, Pretty Boy.” Now his eyes were watering for a different reason. Again, thank fuck Shit-Faced Harrington was with him. With any luck, this would be a distant memory tomorrow. For both of them. And... for Eddie. Fucking Eddie Munson was counting down the seconds to New Year’s, and he had the stupidest smug grin on his face. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy groaned, rubbing his temples.

Five!

Four!

“I hope everyone’s got someone to-”

“EDDIE!” everyone yelled except Argyle and Jonathan, who were somehow more baked than the noisy guitarist.

Three!

Two!

“Billy? Don’t hate me for this,” Steve hiccupped.

“Wha-”

One!

He leaned in and kissed Billy so hard, the younger man fell onto his back, sinking into the cushions.

Everyone else was wrapped up in watching the ball drop, but the two dorks on the couch were still going at it.

The smart thing for Billy to do? Push Steve off and flee. After all, he was drunk. He didn’t know what he was doing... or who he was kissing. For all he knew, he was kissing Nancy. Someone he loved.

Tears threated to fall once more, and Billy whimpered. Like a fool, like a dog, he stayed put, even after Steve vomited all over him and then fell asleep.