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“You’ve really got it bad, Hargrove?” Eddie asks it like it wasn’t a question at all. Like he knew the answer and his lips curl over his teeth with a smile at the idea of his reply.
Billy doesn’t indulge that shit-eating grin. Instead, turns away from the Mall’s floor to ceiling window and back into the music shop.
The store they work at is tiny, just a cut out of one of the many box shaped shops inside the mall, but it’s filled well enough. Rows of wooden shelves hold up milk crates filled with vinyls taking up the whole center. Other shelves holding cassettes and 8tracks are just as organized as Billy and Eddie feel like making them.
The simple white walls are lined like wallpaper with guitars. Ones of all shapes and colors. Some skinny and electric and some fat and wooden.
In front of the wall sits their single glass display case and the register. Holding tiny things like extra strings and picks and holding the weight of Eddie, leaning against the glass with one arm on his cheek looking very bored.
“Shut it up, Munson, or I’m gonna shut it for you.” Billy grumbled. Glowering at the strands of red and green tinsel hung up around the register and wondering if their cheap looking plastic would be strong enough to wring around Eddie’s neck.
He got a good laugh out of Eddie with that empty threat. But he also got silence.
The other boy just tucked his long black hair behind his ear and flipped the page on the magazine he was reading.
Billy sort of wished he would continue picking on him. So maybe Billy could continue denying how he felt. How he kept watching out the window, past all the sale posters and decorations, towards the center of the mall.
The fountain that made up the center of the mall, the grand sort of entrance, was emptied out for the season. Now it was filled to the brim with cotton looking snow covered in glitter. And over the fountain was a scaffolding with some more snow tapped on it as if it could hide the temporary metal rail posts.
Steps ran up the stage and down on the other side, all leading up to a big red sleigh in the center of a mini forest of lit up Christmas trees. All flocked with the same fake snow and shaking with huge ornaments.
It was sort of impressive, not as big as the ones Billy’s seen in California.
Right now, the sign was flipped to read ‘gone to lunch’ and a small clock showing when they’ll all be back. The big man in red himself, and his handy Elf helpers.
“I’m going to take my break.” Billy said over his shoulder. Unclipping his name badge from the breast of his shirt and sticking it into his jean’s back pocket.
“Of course you are,” Eddie sighed out. His fingers wiggled where they were stuck holding up the weight of his ungrateful chin. “After you get your hands up some elf’s skirt, make sure to wash the glitter off them. Okay?” Eddie asks with his sarcasm still sharp.
Billy turns to lay into him, one hand on the counter and the other pointed into Eddie’s face.
He used to be able to threaten the other boy like this. When he first came to town and billy was the biggest scariest toy from California. But now, after years of friendship and getting high on the others laps, he can’t exactly threaten like he used to.
“What I do up some elf’s skirt ain’t your business, Munson. And if I wanna leave my sticky fingers nice and covered in glitter, then I damn well will!”
Eddie’s smile only got larger. Three times its size. Then his eyes flicked behind Billy’s shoulder for a second, just a second. But Billy knew what that meant.
In all the shifts he’s gotten at the music shop, you think he would be better at knowing when a customer was around. They should put a bell on the door, really.
“I don’t even want to know what you guys are talking about over here.” Steve Harrington’s melodic laughter rang over the stale Christmas music playing around the store.
“Oh, I think you actually might though—,” Eddie cut himself off with his own laughter.
And Billy wants so, so badly to take his name badge and shove it down Eddie’s throat.
He rolls his fist around the tiny piece of plastic, balling it in his fist as he slips away from the counter. His face is red but he tries to hide it behind just being angry when he turns around.
Steve’s standing there with his head tilted to the side, like a cute puppy dog, asking what’s going on. His big brown eyes are just as glittery and perfect as the messy swoop to his hair. The green of his elf worker uniform just seems to bring out the chocolate of his eyes even more.
Billy feels his cheeks getting even warmer. Even redder. Shit.
“Let me guess,” he says with a slow drag on the ‘s’, tapping his chin in thought. His uniform jingles from the bells on his sleeves. Fuck. “You guys are starting a Christmas music only rock band and are trying to pinboard names?”
“Very close, Steven.” Eddie says.
The same time Billy snaps out: “as if!”
Steve just shrugs at them. His arm dropping and his lips turning up in a humored way.
Billy notices the way Steve’s fingertips brush right past the bottom of his tunic he’s wearing. It’s a red and green striped monstrosity of an outfit, but the way it’s designed is really unfair. It’s got a belt attached to one side that gets wrapped around like an apron almost, and Steve’s got it tight. The knot on his hip shows off just how tight his waist tapers to at its narrowest.
How perfect it would feel for Billy to wrap his wide hands around it. How perfect it would feel pressed up against his own hips in bed.
His fingers positively itch to get covered in glitter under that little elf skirt the tunic makes on Steve.
But he bites all that back behind his teeth. Making a clicking sound as he rubs them together in anger.
He shakes his head. Clipping his name badge back on before running his hands through his hair. Trying to shake himself back to normal. Before he came to this dumb town and got this dumb crush.
“What the hell do you even want here, Harrington?” Billy bites. “If you’re looking for Wham! we’re all sold out. But we do have a Toto gift set that would be great for you. Comes with a tube of lipstick and pair of panties.”
“Thanks, Hargrove, but I already have Last Christmas on cassette.” He flaunted. Laying his hands down on his hips in a bothered stance.
Billy couldn’t help but flick his eyes down to watch. He cursed at himself. Making his eyes look back up. But Steve’s lips were in a cute little pout. Red and swollen just like a mistletoe, Billy wouldn’t be able to look away from that as easily.
“Then what brings you, fair assistant to the big red one?” Eddie asks, drawing Steve’s attention away.
“I’m actually doing last minute gift shopping. Like an idiot. And I don’t even know what to get. I was hoping I could get some help… from Billy, actually.” Steve says it like he’s admitting something.
He turns to watch Billy’s reaction from the corner of his big brown eyes.
Billy tenses up. He’s not used to being asked for help. Usually it’s people asking him to get away, to calm it down. But the way Steve’s looking at him now; with those huge brown eyes all sparkling with the Christmas decorations around— Billy’s heart stops right in his chest. Like a fat guy trying to squish down a chimney.
His tongue feels huge and red and not working. It’s not working. He can’t get a word out.
Steve and, fuck, Eddie are looking at him bugged eyed and flubbering. Carol of the bells is blasting over the shitty mall speakers getting louder and louder and more grainy and shitty as it grows. He can’t even breath, because what does he say?
Steve Harrington you’re all I think about when I lay in bed at night. Not even fucking you, which would be bad enough. But more like going ice skating at a cute frozen pond. Getting hot chocolate afterwards with lots of whipped topping to have the cups to warm their hands. Then cuddling up together on the couch under a knitted blanket. With a fire crackling and their steady breathing the only sound. The only music.
And… holy hell, he’s even imagined them wearing matching red and green ugly sweaters.
Billy knits his eye brows together in frustration. At himself, at his heart. His throat feels like a water pump about to burst out some sewage and it hurts but not as much as the embarrassment.
Steve tilts his head to the side again. Like a floppy eared dog with a big red bow tied around its neck.
“Billy?” He asks softly.
Eddie’s laughter is secondary. His evil cackling from the register is like nails pounding into Billy’s coffin. He just wishes they would start shoveling the dirt already.
“Yeah, big guy, weird I know but Stevie here asked for your help.” Eddie’s hand reaches out over the counter and it seems the pat on his shoulder is enough to break him out of it. “Help me Obi-Hargrove, you’re my only hope!” He puts on his best high pitched girl-voice and it’s enough to make Steve laugh.
It’s enough to make Billy break out into a fit of coughs.
“What, what do you need?” He managed to sputter out. As normal as he could.
“Oh, uh. I’m trying to get a gift for Robin. And I know she’s pretty cool, and likes music, but I just don’t know what to get. And I want to make it sort of nice for her.” Steve explains.
Billy feels his mind coming back to him at that. Of course Steve’s here getting a gift for a girl. What did Billy really imagine happening other than that?
“Buckley?” He asks.
Steve gives a little nod. As if this crappy small town was so big there’s any sort of confusion.
“I think I might know some bands she’s into. I’ve seen some patches on her jacket. Follow me, Harrington.” Billy heads out, finishing his sentence over his shoulder as if he doesn’t care.
He walks towards the farthest shelves with the punk category sorted alphabetically. Or at least it should be, Billy’s not gone through it.
“She’s likely into any band with a girl singer, or just any chick. That’d be my professional advice.” Billy exhales as he leaned his weight on the wooden shelves.
Steve follows behind him obediently. He instantly puts his hands into one of the boxes and starts thumbing through the records. “You’ve got no idea.” He mutters under his breath.
“Huh?” Billy asks him.
“I said I’ve got no idea! There’s, there’s like so many to pick from, ya know?”
“Right,” Billy reaches over and picks one up for him. It’s a dusty thing covered in plastic with a girl with a nose ring on the front.
He passes it to Steve, and only then he realizes how close they’ve got. How he can smell the peppermint hanging off Steve’s elf costume. How Steve likely smells the weed baggie Eddie gave him as an early Christmas gift tucked away in his shirt pocket.
Steve reaches out and takes the record. His long, pretty fingers take it right out of Billy’s palm. Sliding across the back of his hand enough to drive him mad.
“This looks great.” He says calmly. Like he didn’t just blow Billy’s mind.
“Does she have a record player?” Billy says like a damn recording, totally on auto pilot as his brain packs up and leaves.
“Yeah, she does. It’s a crappy one. Do you think I should get her a new player too?” Steve turns the record over in his hands. Not looking at Billy. Maybe his cheeks are blushing too— or maybe it’s just cold outside.
“Sure, we can gift wrap it. Follow me.” Fuck, Billy doesn’t know why he said that. He hates to gift wrap.
Steve’s behind him asking question after question. Wondering what might be best for Robin and also for carrying it to his car and trying to hide it from her. ‘Cause he gives her a ride to and from work. And she works right alongside Steve and Santa's sleigh every day.
They pick out a small player with a big wooden base and a plastic covering over half the thing. I’d be perfect for a bedroom and playing tunes off of. Billy’s got a better set up himself, but he’s not bragging.
He lifts the player and carries it over to the register. Blissfully, Eddie’s gone missing.
“Thanks for this, man.” Steve says slowly. Under his breath again. Like he’s serious and he means it.
It makes Billy’s attention drop so much he almost drops the paper-cutting scissors on his toe. He’s got to drop down and pick them up and he wants to stay on the ground a bit, but moreso, he wants to keep looking at Steve’s pretty face.
“Thanks for what? Doing my job?” Billy quips. Sending the scissors gliding across the paper and snapping them closed roughly.
“For helping. You could have pawned me off on Eddie. You could have totally brushed me off, but, you helped. So… thanks.” Steve smiles at him. He has leaned over on the counter just enough to make his bells on his uniform jingle, and enough to make his face cute and round and he smiles.
“I guess you’re not as much of an asshole as you try and come off as, huh, Hargrove?” He giggles. Fucking. Giggles.
Billy feels trapped again. Pulverized by that smile. He’s pissed that it’s not working, how angry he gets doesn’t seem to be covering up how much he feels all the time. And a moron like Harrington can see through him. It makes Billy so, so very angry. Lit up red hot and flashing like the dumb lights over their heads.
But at the same time there’s a relief there. A breath of cold winter air he never got to breathe in the heat of California. It’s being seen, even under all the layers and bullshit. Being told he’s good even when he wishes he wasn’t.
Sometimes.
Billy wants to swoop in and lay a hand over Steve’s cheeks. He wants to bring him in close and kiss those red lips. He wants to kiss that stupid elf so bad. But he knows he can’t. Not in this small town. Not on Christmas eve. Not ever.
“Don’t go around saying that shit to people, Harrington. Or I’ll snip your jingle bells right off.” He growls.
He finishes wrapping the gift and nearly throws it at Steve. Telling him his totally quickly. Not quickly enough to stop the other boy's cute laughter from ringing out.
“Sure thing.” Steve pays and takes his player and his record. His gift for his girl he waited until Christmas eve to get. He bundles them under his arms and heads to the door with another nod.
Then, he turns. And he gives Billy another dumb smile. “Merry Christmas, Billy.” He says.
And Billy can’t reply. He lifts up his middle finger and flips Steve the bird instead. He knows he’s blushing like Santa’s coat but he will deny it until he’s in his grave.
With the door swinging closed behind Steve the shop feels way too empty. Way too big.
Billy claps his hand over his shirt pocket. Over his racing heart. Over the weed he’s got there. He’s for sure got to roll a joint right now if he’s going to survive this.
***
He gets Eddie to man the register the rest of the day. Billy knows it’s not very cool to stay hiding out for hours after being snow blasted by your crushes smile, but he can’t help it.
The weed baggie is dry and the sun is set by the time he comes back into the store.
Eddie is flipping the sign over to ‘closed’, he turns over his shoulder just to see Billy emerge.
“Oh! I thought you had mummified in there. I was getting ready to have an expedition to find your tomb.” He laughs.
Billy snarls back at him. He’s lost a lot of his fight being so high though. And he’s feeling sleepy after nearly dying. He gives a long exaggerated yawn so Eddie knows exactly where he stands.
“Fuck off, Munson. Get out of here so I can mop and leave.”
Eddie’s hyena laughter settles to a knowing sort of look. A look Billy’s come to know. The same one he gets when he’s laying on the floor of Eddie’s drafty trailer making a fool of himself about how Steve makes the cutest elf ever.
Did you see him, dude? With those terrible striped socks and that dumb pointed hat? He looks like a toddler in a school holiday play! He looks so dumb! I think… I want to kiss him, dude.
Billy doesn’t make eye contact. He turns until he hears that door close behind Munson’s skinny pale ass and doesn’t turn back around until he’s got mop water in the bucket. Billy makes a quick job of cleaning up. It’s Christmas after all, his boss has got to know he wants to get out of here early.
When he finishes, he turns all the lights off and locks all the doors. Then the entrance behind him.
Billy stands for a bit holding the shop’s door. It’s metal handle is cold.
The whole mall around him is silent save for the music overhead. It echoes around him like some ghost whispering. Oh come let us adore him someone’s singing. Hauntingly, and warmly at the same time.
The lights are still on even after closing time. They glow orange just as a fireplace would give off. Billy closes his eyes and just breathes it in. Imagines for a second he’s fireside in a cozy home. A home that wants him and loves him. And that he’s excited for the holidays. And that the Christmas music isn’t annoying and overplayed.
He imagines Steve is there.
“Hey, Billy!”
His eyes snap open.
Billy turns around slowly, and he finds Steve standing in the middle of the mall’s hallway. Like he was simply walking past and stopped to say Hi. Or maybe like some Angel dropped him right off a cloud and that’s where he landed.
“Hey,” Billy says back.
He leaves the safety of the shop's door and walks towards Steve. He’s still got his uniform on, and Billy’s not complaining that he is. His hat is tucked under his arm. And there’s a smile on his face just as warm as the lights.
“Mind if I walk with you?” He asks.
Billy shrugs like he doesn’t care.
They start down the hall, their shoes are loud on the tiles. It’s suddenly the longest walk he’s ever taken to get to the parking lot.
Billy’s hands are shoved deep in his denim jacket. He knows it’s not the best winter jacket and when he gets outside he’s going to be frozen down to his ball sack. But right now he’s blistering under his popped collar. Burnt right to the tips of his huge ears.
Steve keeps glancing over at Billy as if he’s just told a joke, or making sure a secret stays safe.
Billy keeps ignoring him as best he can. It’s impossible. It’s driving Billy insane. His stomach hurts and he feels like he’s sobering up and that’s the worst thing.
They get to the doors and they both stop. Billy’s letting him go first, because he’s nice and a gentleman. And he thinks he might rips the doors off their base if he opened them.
Steve doesn’t open the doors though. He stands still. His goofy rich boy peacoat that his parents must have gotten him is unbuttoned and messy. It makes him so cute. So endearing. So human.
The song changes overhead. There’s a few excruciating seconds of silence before silent night starts up. It’s so muffled and distant. They feel like they’re in a separate world, trapped in some wonderland amber colored glass that’s as picture perfect as a greeting card.
He nearly doesn’t want it to end. Doesn’t want to leave. Wished he was trapped in this dumb mall with this overplayed music until morning. Until New Years. With Steve and his shy glances over his shoulder. With his cute puppy head tilt and the way his lips pout when Billy picks on him enough to actually annoy him.
Steve and his peacoat and his elf uniform isn’t moving either. Maybe he’s got the same idea.
Billy knows he’s still stoned if he’s thinking like that.
“I ah,” Steve starts. His voice was low. Not louder than the music or the way his shoes scuff on the floor. “I… thanks, for the help in the store. I’m sure Robin is really going to love her gift.”
Billy doesn’t look at him. “Yeah, you already said that.”
“I did,” Steve laughs. “Well I mean it. And I meant it when I said Merry Christmas. I hope you have a really good one, Billy.”
Billy doesn’t look at him. He’s not looking dammit.
“Well I’m sure it won’t be as good as the one Robin will give you after dropping all that money on her.” He scoffs.
“Oh, Robin? I won’t be spending Christmas with her. She’s got her mom and I’m just a friend. So. I’ll be at my house. While my parents are in… New York, I think.” He admits all that with heavier and heavier breath. His laughter left. It makes Billy sorry he said anything.
“But, you’ll have a good night, right? I mean,” he stalled his words for a second. Then whispered them as if that secret was coming out. “With Eddie. I’m sure you’ve got him a great gift.”
Billy finally looks up. His eyes narrowed and questioning and hopeful all at once. What the hell?
“Munson?” He sneers. “I’m not going to spend Christmas with that freak. I’m more likely to spend it alone in my car. Why the hell?—“
But then he stops short. His mind is catching up with his mouth. His mind crashed into his mouth full force like a train.
“You think, me and Munson?” Billy akss.
“Well,” Steve is blushing now. He’s the one hiding his face in his rich boy collar. “You think me and Robin, when I'm sorry but that’s totally not happening.”
“That’s not happening?” Billy repeats back. Like an idiot.
Steve flutters around like a little bird. His mouth opening and closing before he settles on a pout. A really cute one. One that makes Billy hear all sorts of annoying Christmas songs in his head.
“I’d be okay, if you guys were. Ya know—“ Steve cuts off what he was going to say with another shrug. And another giggle. He lifts his hands up and waves them around. He’s wearing mittens. Knitted mittens. Red and green yarn stitched together keeping his hands warm and so, so cute.
Billy’s at the end of his sanity.
“I’d be okay?” He repeats. Then. Oh.
“Oh,” he says. Slowly.
Steve drops his hands in a sort of comforting way. The way he looks at those bratty kids when they’ve done something simple. The way someone looks at a shop display when they are longing for the snap shot inside. Longing to belong.
Billy can place that look because he knows it well. When he’s looking in from the outside of the glass of the snow globe. He’s always thought that stbee was on the other side of that glass. Ronald Regan and a nuclear family and a normal life. He thought Steve belonged to all that.
But he doesn’t.
He’s looking at Billy with those wide, brown eyes. Two cups of hot chocolate that are just crashing into him with holly jolly waves that are pulling him down and drowning him in a festive tsunami.
Billy’s tired of swimming. He’s so tired of longing and looking. Of lamenting on a floor about how much he wants. How he craves.
Billy takes his hands out of his pocket. It’s cold. He doesn’t have mittens.
He reaches up to Steve’s warm cheeks. And he’s close enough that the apple of his cheek fits just perfect in Billy’s palm. They fit perfectly.
Steve takes a step closer to him. Doesn’t flinch or falter at all with the hand on his cheek. Instead, he surges up to meet the touch. He’s got a smile on his face but this one isn’t for any damn kids or Santa fucking Clause. It’s just for Billy.
Billy leans forward and catches those lips in a soft kiss. He didn’t even know he could kiss like this. Softly and lovingly. He didn’t even know lips could feel like this on his own, like kissing flower petals. We wish you a Merry Christmas is playing over their heads like a weighty snowfall. He never wanted it to end.
“Merry Christmas, Steve,” he says back. Finally, With a smile on his typically angry face.
And before Steve can say anything back he’s getting kissed again. This time maybe a little harder.