Fics And Shit

But does that really matter?

Apparently not if Nikki’s letter to Santa this year means anything.

Dear Santa,

I would really like a game boy and a super soaker and play-doh and polly pockets but most of all I want a dog. A super big super fluffy dog that I can cuddle and take on walks.

Thank you very much.

Love,

Nikki

Fucking precious.

And Steve and Billy have been known to spoil their little girl, so it was to be expected when the two of them stopped by the local animal shelter just a few days after the letter was “sent to the North Pole” to check out the dogs.

So now it’s Christmas morning (five o’clock to be exact), and they’ve got a giant dog bed lying in the middle of their garage, and Billy’s more excited than he probably should be.

“Baby, when are we going to get her?”

“Patience Billy, it’s early. We still have to go back to bed. Nikki isn’t even up yet.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“Well you’re gonna have to try so Nikki can come wake us up in,” he squints at the clock on the wall, “about two hours. C’mon, the bed is probably still warm.”

Billy let’s himself get dragged back to their bedroom, and he must’ve been more tired than he thought he was because next thing he knows there’s a small, feral child jumping onto their bed and crawling all over them.

“Dad! Daddy! Dad! Daddy! It’s Christmas! Wake up! Santa came!”

“Five more minutes?” Steve mumbles into his pillow.

“No! Get up!”

“Someone’s bossy this morning.” Billy sits up and pulls Nikki in for a hug. “Merry Christmas bud, you’re gonna need to let Dad and I get coffee though, alright?”

“Ok, but that’s it. You better be fast. I’m gonna go wait by the tree.”

“Roger that.”

So they get up. They get coffee. Billy tries his best not to be too excited just yet.

They sit with Nikki as she rips open all her presents and he feels an odd sense of pride in himself whenever a specific gift makes her really happy.

But once she’s done, once the floor is covered in red and green paper, they hand her a final gift.

A little box wrapped in blue paper.

“What’s this?”

“This is a special gift from Daddy and I,” Steve says, “and you’ve gotta open it super carefully, alright?”

“Ok!”

Honestly, she didn’t, but it was cute to see her take her time. She was gentle with the paper, peeling the tape off slowly and pulling back the folded edge gingerly. Once she got through to the box though, she pulled off the lid and—

“A dog collar? Why’d you get me a dog collar?”

And now it’s Billy’s turn to share the news.

“Guess where we’re going later.”

She shrugged, holding up the collar to the light.

“We’re going to the animal shelter bud.”

Her attention flips over to him fast, the collar falling from her little hands, “Really?” she asks quietly.

“Yep! We found a really good dog and she’s waiting for you. After we eat breakfast and get dressed, we’re gonna go get her.”

“*Really?!* tears are welling in her blue eyes.

“Oh honey,” Steve gathers her up in his arms, “what’s wrong?”

Billy kneels beside them and pushes Nikki’s hair out of her face so he can wipe away her tears.

“I’m just—“ she sniffles, “Just really happy. I love dogs.”

“We know you do, bud,” Billy can’t help but laugh a bit, Nikki’s just a really fucking funny kid.

“Alright, enough with these tears little one,” Steve pretends to shake them out of her until she’s giggling and he can set her back down onto her own two feet, “What are we feeling for breakfast this morning?”

“Special waffles? With Christmas sprinkles?”

“A brilliant idea from Nikki Harrington!” Billy yells out, earning more laughter from their curly headed little girl.

And yeah maybe he’s excited for the dog, but Billy had never experienced happiness like he does now with Steve and Nikki on Christmas mornings.

He had never experienced happiness like he does with his family on a daily basis.

He used to hate Christmas songs but now that he’s gone soft--

Billy’s nearly weeping, gasping for each breath, but he still tries to reach into the front seat for a new tape.

“Ff—ah—fuck you,” he says when Steve licks up the column of his throat, slowing him down. He slaps at Steve’s shoulder.

“S-stop it, lemme—“

“Stop?” And Steve, who decides that it’d be fun to take Billy’s words literally, pulls out entirely.

“Fuck shit, no no no Steve, put it back in please please!”

Steve’s laughing above Billy, who’s reaching blindly for Steve’s dick.

“But you just said—“

“Fuck what I said! Give me your fucking dick you asshole!” Billy’s eyes are teary, his voice ragged and rough with want, “Please, baby.”

“Since you asked so nicely. . . “

In one fluid motion, he’s seated fully back inside of Billy, who’s arching up and wrapping his arms around Steve, scratching long lines down Steve’s back.

“Yesss Stevie. More, more.”

“More?”

“Mm hm.”

“You want me to fuck you harder?”

“Yes, baby, yes.”

“Want me to,” Steve rolls his hips, “fuck you deeper?”

Billy groans, “Fuck, yeah I do.”

Steve leans in close again and nips at Billy’s ear, making him shiver, “Want me to make you come on my cock?”

Billy can only whine in response, nodding his head vigorously.

“You’ll have to do one thing for me then, baby,” Steve reaches a hand out to wrap his finger’s around Billy’s throat, “gonna have to be quiet so we can hear the end of this song, it’s a good one.”

Billy swallows, and Steve tightens his grip, his fingers and thumb squeezing down on Billy’s neck. At the same time, he lifts Billy’s hips up to hit just right, and Billy’s wheezing, the sounds wet and choked off. He can feel the blood rushing to his head and his eyes roll back, and he’s throwing his hands out to grip the seats, grab Steve, hold onto anything he can find while his orgasm tears through him.

A few gasping breaths and stuttering thrusts of Steve’s hips later, and Steve’s loosening his hold on Billy, wiping away tears, and pressing his face to Billy’s shoulder.

“You never did change the song,” Steve whisper’s against Billy’s skin, kissing the spots where his fingers were squeezing just moments ago.

Billy snorts, smiles with his eyes closed. Says contentedly with a sigh, “Doesn’t matter. You gave me what I needed.”

He had visited Steve one late, late night. Parked far down the street to conceal his intentions from any possible curious onlookers, he walked fast with his head down. The best thing about Steve’s house (aside from the obvious—parents gone nearly every weekend) is that it’s surrounded by big houses filled with old people. There’s not a soul who’d know him or care enough to wonder what he‘s doing on Steve Harrington’s street at such an hour. Billy’s grateful for that. There have even been some very early mornings when he’s walked back to his car and been cheerily greeted by an old man out jogging.

Billy really likes Steve’s house.

But on that specific night, he was nervous walking up to the huge front door. Ringing the doorbell and wringing his hands, he stood and waited for just a second before Steve pulled the door open with a bright smile.

“Hey,” Steve said. Billy sometimes hates how he melts every time Steve speaks. Other times, he really likes feeling all warm and melty inside. . .

Not that he’d tell anyone that. Ever. If that got back to Max, he’d never live it down.

“Hi,” he was breathless, but not surprised by it. It’s just what Steve does to him.

They had made their way through the brightly lit house up to Steve’s room, sitting side by side on his bed.

“Said you wanted to talk. What’s up?” Steve had asked with a comforting hand on Billy’s leg.

Billy had explained.

Steve had gotten upset at first. He didn’t understand. He didn’t get it.

But being with Steve changed Billy for the better, so he was patient with him. He assured Steve that that wasn’t the end, that he wasn’t breaking up with him. They didn’t need to stop interacting in public if things worked out. . . They may even be able to see each other more. He told Steve that he needed this. And Steve was always allowed to refuse, Billy made sure that he knew that, but he also made sure to stress how hard things would be for them if they had to go with Billy’s plan B.

So in the end, instead of choosing a path of no interaction and fake fighting, Steve agreed to get a girlfriend. A real girlfriend.

It’s now been a few weeks since Steve found a girl. A blonde, with blue eyes.

Billy finds it hard to see them walking through the halls hand in hand. To see Steve crowd her against her locker and kiss her sweetly, the same way he does to Billy when they’re alone.

But Billy had told him to make it believable. Told him to do whatever he needs to do. He gave him complete permission, so long as he comes home to Billy every night.

Even Billy has to admit that there are some perks to the arrangement, though. Now Steve and Billy can be seen in public together. They can go to movies and hang out at parties and actually talk in class. They’re finally free to interact without the entire school watching and waiting for them to start having sex in the middle of English class.

But sometimes the bad outweighs the good. Like when they’re sitting together at lunch and Steve’s girlfriend comes over and situates herself on Steve’s lap, smiling innocently at Billy. He knows he can’t hate her, it’s not her fault. He also knows that Steve isn’t happy with the arrangement. Steve sighs (a distressed sound easily mistaken for a content one) with a pained look in his eyes as he plasters on a smile and wraps his arms around her waist, kissing her hair and calling her beautiful.

Billy just twists the ring on his finger. Steve’s class ring, though no one knows that because as soon as Steve had gotten it he handed it directly over to Billy and told him to wear it every day.

And Billy had. And he’ll keep wearing it for as long as Steve wants him to. It helps remind him that Steve cares.

Every time he sees Steve tuck her hair behind her ear, he just thinks of Steve doing the same to him.

When he lifts her and spins her around in the halls, Billy remembers the one time Steve tried to do that to him and they fell over laughing into a heap on the floor.

When they kiss, he thinks about Steve’s lips on his own.

When Steve has to spend his Friday nights with her, Billy waits at home for him to come tapping on his bedroom window. He’s patient, listening to their favorite records while he counts down the minutes.

Steve can never stay long, Billy doesn’t allow it. Sometimes, Billy can only open the window long enough to stick his head out and kiss Steve until they’re both dizzy and whispering “I love you’s” before the glass and Steve’s girl can separate them again.

But Billy’s willing to wait longer that that for Steve. His Stevie. His King Steve.

Every night before bed he unfolds the worn picture of a certain brown haired boy that he carries with him everywhere. The one with the writing on the back with the endearment that‘s kept special for only Billy:

I’m always here, baby. We’ll be okay.

~Your Pretty Boy

Billy’s Pretty Boy. Steve’s Baby.

Sure it’s hard, maybe it hurts, but it’s necessary. And even though she has Steve. . .

She really doesn’t, does she?