these streets will make you feel brand new

by whenyouwishuponastar

Summary:

In which Steve lives and works in New York City. He and Robin moved here nearly three years ago to chase their dreams, and Steve’s mostly used to it—until a very handsome man sits across from him on his morning commute and breaks every rule.

Billy is attractive, funny, and flirtatious, with a wild side simmering below the surface. But many things make up Billy Hargrove, and Steve learns them, unexpected to tragic, as they fall head over heels for each other.

He was a stranger willing to be vulnerable and that’s the best gift Steve ever could’ve dreamed of.

Steve has been using the subway in New York for two and a half years and he’s used to it. It took a long time to get there but he is… used to it. Mostly, anyway, because sometimes a lot of people gathered in a tiny place makes him uncomfortable.

But Steve has to hand it to New Yorkers. Most don’t want to talk to each other on morning or evening commutes. They don’t want to look at each other, either, and to counter anyone that might or might strike up a conversation, a pair of headphones or AirPods do the trick.

He has to get up at a horrific hour in the morning to get to the train, a bus stop and, finally, the school he teaches at. It’s private, kind of small, and Steve loves it. It’s not like the private schools of yesteryear and the curriculum is more open than public schools.

Steve teaches second grade and he wouldn’t choose another.

But, the problem with commuting by subway and everything going as usual is that when something different happens, it’s highly noticeable.

Like the handsome stranger that gets on at the same stop and time Steve does and sits across from him. Steve’s never seen him before, but he stands out. Like, a lot.

The dude could be a model or something.

Dirty blond hair cut short and styled nicely, killer blue eyes, a light amount of facial hair, and typically, a black hoop earring that hugs his earlobe. He always has his nose buried in a book, wearing AirPods like Steve, and Steve knows the do not disturb look.

But he can’t help but glance up a few times from his book.

Fucking Robin, man. Steve complains once about draining his phone’s battery too much and just… not wanting to read social media or the news before work. But what the hell else is he supposed to do?

Read an actual book, apparently.

She shoved one in his hands and Steve’s been trying. Hoo, he has, but his short attention span is really working against him. It has since high school, which was… a little more than a decade ago, and that’s too freaky to think about. But second-grade books are easy. An actual goddamn story with an intricate plot that is, admittedly, pretty fucking cool is not easy at all.

Steve has to use brain power for this thing. And he has to keep his stores filled up for the rest of the day on the morning commute, and in the evening, they’re all empty. So, he’s not sure he’s gonna finish this anytime soon.

This guy’s style is super neat. It’s like Stephen King modernized and focuses enormously on interpersonal relationships throughout the plot. That’s what Robin said, anyhow, and Steve can see it. It follows a group of teenagers and their harrowing journey not through monsters with sharp teeth but monsters that walk among them.

People you meet every day and never know who is hiding what skeleton in their closet. There’s a lingering sense of suspense and anxiousness surrounding what Steve’s read so far, like it all might go to shit suddenly, and he thinks when it does, he might be more invested.

Hopefully, he won’t miss his stops.

But then there’s the guy across from him. And he’s a big fucking problem too. Steve’s been sitting here for so long that it’s his territory, and he refuses to move, but the dude is distractingly handsome. He’s always dressed well—like a guy in his late twenties or early thirties, around Steve’s age. He looks like he could be a total douchebag, too, but the hot ones are more likely to be.

Except Steve peeks and he’s been caught peeking numerous times. It’d be more mortifying if he didn’t look up and see the guy peeking back over his book.

So, it’s a problem. The train was terrifying initially, then Steve grew used to it, mostly, and now it’s being ruined.

It’s been a couple of weeks already.

Steve isn’t sure he can handle a couple more.

Except Steve tends to forget about the mysterious, devastatingly handsome stranger unless he’s complaining to Robin or sitting down in the fucking train and watching the guy sit across from him.

It’s unfair and Steve doesn’t know what to do about it. Maybe he’ll go away as quickly as he came, but Steve has the worst luck, so he’s probably here to stay until they’re old men, peeking over their books at each other.

But Steve has worse luck than that and shouldn’t forget it. Because, on one glorious Tuesday morning, while Steve holds his book and reads feisty Abigail take the guys down a few notches, he’s distracted by his mysterious train-mate setting his book aside and pulling out one of his AirPods.

Oh no.

He’s looking right at Steve and he’s kind of smiling. Just a little, and looks amused, which is a bolt to Steve’s insides that simultaneously feels good and makes him want to turn to dust.

The dude is breaking the rules, and Steve’s not even mad about it, but he is nervous as fuck.

Steve pulls one of his AirPods out after stopping his music and raises his eyebrows. “What’s up?” he manages to ask.

“That book,” the guy says. “You ever gonna finish it?”

He blinks at him. “Uhh,” Steve says. He feels like he should be insulted but maybe not. “I share the attention span of the seven-year-olds I teach, so it takes me a long time. It’s a miracle I’m even a third of the way.”

“Yeah?” he asks, grinning. “Teacher, huh? Magic Treehouse more your thing?”

Steve points at him. “That’s exactly right,” he laughs. “Don’t make it sound so pathetic. Third of the way, man. And it’s really good.”

“I’ve read that one,” he says, glancing at the book, then at Steve. “What made you pick it up?”

“My roommate. Best friend. She’s a reader. A reader of literally everything. I got sick of the news and social media before school, so she suggested I read and gave me this one.”

“Sounds like my kinda girl,” he says. “She’s got good taste.” He bites his lip, then leans forward and offers his hand. “Billy.”

Steve leans forward to take Billy’s hand and shake it. “Steve,” he says. “Did you, uhh… did you move here not too long ago?”

Billy shrugs. “Nah. Well,” he says, “been near here a few years but I got sick of driving. It’s a long transit but it clears out after a while. Kinda nice.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Steve says, glancing around. There are a lot of people around them, absorbed in whatever they’ve got in their hands. “What do you do for work?”

“I work from home,” Billy says. “But I’ve been visiting my sister. Helping her out with some things.”

Steve smiles. “I’m sure she’s grateful for that.”

“Pretty sure she wants to do me in half the time. But somethin’ wouldn’t be right if she didn’t,” Billy says. “Where do you teach?”

“Tiny private school in East Village,” Steve says. “It’s not a Montessori but they focus a lot on creatively rather than, uh, a stringent curriculum.”

Billy grins. “Public schools, man.”

“Public schools,” Steve sighs. He tries not to be distracted by that grin. “I’d never want to experience them again.”

“Fuck that,” Billy says. “My sister is sixteen, though, so I gotta experience it anyway.”

“Yeugh. Sixteen, huh?”

“Pain in my ass. She’s got vicious teenage girl down but I don’t blame her for everything. Looks like you next, though,” Billy adds, glancing around. “Thanks for talkin’ with me.”

Steve tries not to think about this guy knowing which stop is his. “Yeah, man. No worries. Nice meeting you,” he says. He puts the AirPod back on and ignores a tiny flutter in his gut after Billy winks at him.

He puts his book in his backpack and Billy sticks his nose back in his novel. Steve wonders if it’s the only conversation they’ll ever have.

Sometimes it’s just like that.

——

Hoo, is Steve wrong.

The following day, he’s nervous because Billy is waiting for the train at the same station. He’s noticed him, of course, but Steve is still trying to process that it’s so early in the morning and doesn’t fully wake up until the train moves.

But Billy is right there. AirPods in. Book out.

It’s early spring and cold in the morning, but Billy wears a heavier jacket than most people. He’s so damn handsome that it’s tough not to keep peeking, but Steve needs to get in the habit of pulling out his book before he’s seated. Definitely safer that way.

Steve gets on the train when it gets there and hurries to claim his spot. He grabs his backpack and swings it around on his lap, opening it and grabbing his trusty book that’ll probably take him another month to finish.

Except Billy breaks the rules. Well, Steve’s rules, but most other peoples’ because it’s really fucking early in the morning. Steve’s had one cup of coffee and usually fills his thermos at school because it’s big and he doesn’t like carrying it here.

Billy sits right next to Steve and Steve’s nerves shriek with alarm. His palms are sweaty suddenly, and his heart races because he’s still a teenager, apparently. But Billy is very good-looking, and his eyes are super blue, and his cologne smells really good. No wedding ring. Off to go help his sister, whatever that means, because the school year isn’t over.

Must be something else.

“Morning,” Billy says, and it’s entirely too chipper for six-thirty. “Looks like you got two more pages in.”

Steve blinks, glancing at Billy, then down at his book before he laughs. “Jesus,” he sighs. “No, no. I totally read….” Steve flips back a little. “Aha! Two chapters. Two whole chapters.”

“Man,” Billy says and wiggles the book in his hand. “I’m on my fourth since you started reading that one.”

“No goddamn way you’ve read four in a few weeks. Concentration issues! I told you about them,” Steve says. “Fourth?”

“I like reading.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Steve chuckles. “I really do like this one. My friend has the author’s, uhh, collection, I guess. She keeps telling me which one I’m gonna read next and it’s a different one each time.”

Billy laughs. “Sounds like my kinda girl,” he says. “Read What the Hills Hide next. If you like this one, you’ll like that one.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “I think she’s mentioned that one a few times. What’s it about?”

“It starts with a boy who collects red poppies from a meadow for his mother. She’s not home one day when he gets back, so he searches for her. They live in the backwoods. Leads him on a journey through the hills and you find out more about him and his family through other people. They come and go with him as he looks for her. Bit of a suspense thriller but also about the turmoil of growing up isolated and learning there’s more out there. All the good and bad.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Holy shit,” he says. “That sounds good. I don’t remember Robin telling me it was like that. You know, I watch my kids each year kinda hit some big milestones. They usually know death is permanent but they’re really learning social cues by eight. It’s cool to watch. You can always see the more isolated ones, though, even at my school and they go one way or another around their peers. I’m sure I’d love that one. It’s what I like best about this one, actually.” He holds up the book. “The girl and her gang of friends getting hit hard with the harsh realities of the world while they go through shit most kids don’t. I like how it’s, uh, sometimes plot heavy or whatever, but really focused on making them human. I think Robin said all of this guy’s novels are kinda that way.”

Billy doesn’t say anything immediately and Steve realizes he’s rambling to a guy he probably lost a while ago. He glances at him, but Billy isn’t lost—he’s paying attention and looking at Steve. He’s smiling, and it seems strangely fond, and Steve has no idea what he said to earn that but it makes his heart skip a beat.

“That’s why I like ’em so much too,” Billy finally says. “A solid plot that drives ’em forward and gives ’em all a reason to grow and experience shit. Especially together. My sister and I got a lot of years between us and I’ve watched her hit a lot of milestones like that too. She’s my stepsister but she was six when I met her. They got a whole lot of different perspectives on life than us assholes who grew up and got jobs.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s very true,” he says. “They definitely do. Some of the shit they say, man. It’s wild. We made the wrong choice. Stuck in a bubble of work sucks and weather sucks and the government sucks for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s what we got books for,” Billy laughs. “An escape from the monotony of life.”

“What about your sister? Is she a big fan?”

“Fuck, yeah, she is. Got her hooked at seven and she’s always got somethin’ new.”

“Does she like these ones?”

“Not a big fan of the author. She’s blown past young adult novels, so I don’t know why. Must not like his style.”

“Ahh, she might someday. Or not. Do you know how many books there are in the world? Because it’s a lot.”

Billy snickers. “Yeah, Stevie. Authors and good books everywhere. Old and new. You can find gems in a library,” he says. “But you got that concentration issue.”

“I wrangle seven and eight-year-olds all day. Gotta be at my best for that,” Steve sighs, smiling. “Not that this doesn’t go back to when I was their age but that’s beside the point.”

“Pretty sure that’s the whole point.”

“Maybe, maybe. My goal is to get through this one,” Steve says. “And I like it, so I’m gonna do it.”

“Can’t wait to see how long it takes.”

“That’s not nice. My music is very soothing,” Steve says. “I struggle with staying awake too.”

“What’re you listening to?” Billy asks. “ASMR?”

Steve shudders. “Oh, god. Don’t even talk about that stuff to me. Who eats a fucking honeycomb and why do people find it soothing?” he asks, grinning as Billy laughs. “I’ve been really into The Muse lately.”

Billy raises his eyebrows. “Struggling to stay awake with The Muse, huh?” he asks, waving his hand. “Get some Metallica goin’.”

“I have tons of Metallica on my playlists. But I’ve been super into The Muse!” Steve laughs. “What’re you listening to?”

“Metallica.”

“Should’ve known.”

“You really should’ve,” Billy says. “Throw on some music and let’s read.”

Steve smiles. “Yeah, alright. Fine. Maybe I’ll concentrate a little more.”

“Right on, babe.”

He bites his lip and turns his music on. Steve doesn’t think he’ll concentrate at all because he keeps glancing at the book Billy is reading and his hands. They’re nice hands, and that’s weird, probably, but they are.

Billy looks like he’s actually done some hard labor in his life, unlike Steve, which his dad reminded him of often. Not that his dad ever did any hard labor—he was a prep school kid who went straight into Notre Dame, founded a business, and made sales in a big office.

Whatever. Billy has nice hands and it looks like he chews his fingernails as blunt as Steve chews his.

Nobody can be perfect.

He called Steve babe, though, which keeps ringing pleasantly in his ears. Maybe ASMR is nice if it doesn’t involve honeycombs but dudes with pleasant voices. Or any other soothing things, Steve supposes, and shouldn’t be so hard on it.

The honeycomb was a bad first experience and he’s sure there are far better ones out there for a lot of people.

Steve’s stop gets there too quickly, and they smile at each other but nothing more. He shouldn’t expect anything more except maybe a train-mate and Billy’s not bad as far as those go. Steve’s never had one and he wonders how long they’ll keep it up before it fizzles out.

He tells Robin more about Billy that night.

“Huh. Sounds like an interesting guy, boo,” Robin says. “Just my kind.”

“You know, he’s said that twice about you,” Steve says, pointing at her. “What if this is a long game to get your number?”

“Aww. You talk about me. Pretty sure reading is a common hobby among people, Steve,” Robin chuckles. “He knows nothing about me otherwise. He seems interested in getting to know you, though.”

“I dunno,” Steve says, yawning. They’re sitting on the couch in their cozy living room and watching Breaking Bad for the seventh time. “But he seems really cool.”

Robin smiles as she glances at Steve. “Is cool the word we’re using now?”

“Ahh, shut up,” Steve says, waving his hand. “He might be super hot and wants to talk to me for reasons unknown but I’m keeping the rest locked down, baby. I’m too busy, he’s too busy.”

“Steve. You don’t know anything about him other than he helps his sister during the day and works from home. And likes to read.”

Steve scratches his head. “Well, okay. But how do you work from home if you’re leaving home every day to help your sister?”

“Boo, there could be a million reasons why. Maybe you could… I don’t know. Ask him.”

“What if I overstep? And we become train-mates who don’t look at each other again? What if he moved?”

“Ohh. Train-mates. I like that. You are putting too much thought into Billy man. Just see where it goes.”

“Alright, alright,” Steve says, waving his hands. “We’ll see where it goes. Anyway, I have to tell you what Hannah said today. She told me this whole fucking story, Robin. I don’t know if she’s the best bullshitter in the world or if this is her eight-year-old life.”

“I think it’s called a big imagination.”

“No! No, no. I know big imaginations. She talks like a street gangster from the twenties, Robin.”

“Maybe she is a street gangster from the twenties, Steve.”

“I would not be surprised. She literally starts by segueing from second grade language to saying someone owes her some favors. And that’s exactly how she said it….”

——

It’s Friday today and Steve feels weird about it.

Friday is usually followed by Saturday. Steve doesn’t work on the weekends and doesn’t need to take the train anywhere, so he won’t see Billy. What if it changes the dynamic?

Do they even have a dynamic?

Steve thinks so because Billy greets him at the station rather than on the train, which surprises him so much that he almost drops his backpack. He tightens his hold on it between his legs.

“Oh, hey. Morning,” Steve says a bit breathlessly. “Friday, huh?”

“Friday,” Billy says and looks amused. “I start work tonight.”

Steve blinks at him. “Oh,” he says. “Do you work nights and the weekends?”

“Mostly. Givin’ Max a break from my face,” Billy says dryly. “Her mom helps more on the weekends.”

“What does she need help with?” Steve asks hesitantly. He’s afraid Billy will tell him off but he seems to be opening the door. “Is she in school?”

Billy grimaces and shakes his head. “Nah. Well, she’s being homeschooled, I guess. She’s got a tutor in the morning and sometimes in the evenings,” he says. “She was in a car accident about four months ago. Not her fault but she almost didn’t make it. A lot of broken bones. Got hit hard on the head, too. It took her a long time to wake up.”

Steve stares at him. “Jesus Christ, man. I’m sorry to hear it,” he says. “And she’s only sixteen? How’s she healing?”

He shrugs. “They had her in a medically induced coma and it took her another couple of weeks to wake up. She had a bad head injury, so they wanted to work with her neurologically. Just needed to relearn some things and her memory came back full force. She’s herself again, but she was laid up for so long in the hospital that now she’s in a rehabilitation facility. I go there and keep her company while her mom works. They say she’s probably only gonna be there another few weeks,” Billy says. “It’s been a fuckin’ thing, man.”

“It sounds like it. Jesus,” Steve mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. Billy looks tired, but he also seems a little… relieved, maybe. Steve’s not sure. “I’m glad she’s alright. I’m sure she’s happy to have you there.”

Billy laughs. “Sometimes,” he says. “They told us at the start of rehab that she’d probably get frustrated with us being there. So I go over her homework while she’s doin’ some exercises on their floor ’cause that’s fuckin’ true, man. She doesn’t want me there for most of it. She’s also feisty and ornery as hell. A spitfire when she wants to be.”

“Hmm,” Steve hums, smiling. “Do you have anything to do with that?”

He winks. “Not a thing,” Billy says. “Don’t know where she gets it from.”

“Kinda like Abigail,” Steve says. “From the book. And she doesn’t like it!”

“Maybe she sees too much of herself in it. Or she’s stubborn,” Billy laughs. “I’m happy as long as she’s reading.”

They look up as the train comes to a stop and walk onto it together. Steve takes his spot, and Billy sits next to him, which might become… his spot and that thought is a bit nerve-wracking but also exciting.

After settling in with their books and listening to Billy tease Steve about his lack of progress, it feels good.

Steve watches Billy rub his right AirPod with his sleeve.

“Promise I get every nook and cranny every morning,” Billy says, handing it to Steve. “I got a reading playlist.”

“Is it hard rock and metal?”

“You know it, babe.”

Steve smiles and sticks the AirPod in his ear. He watches Billy flip through his phone to turn it on and nearly gets his eardrum blasted out. Billy says oopsie before they relax with their books and shared music.

It’s enjoyable and just. Okay, it’s more than enjoyable. Steve doesn’t know what’s happening because it’s been a while, and he’s not sure what Billy is after. Friendship, maybe. Maybe more.

It almost sounds like he’s lonely, especially spilling a very personal story to a near stranger. Steve feels privileged to know it and also terrible for Max, who seems lucky to be alive.

Herself, even.

They don’t talk, but Steve is highly aware of how they’re seated so closely that their elbows brush together when they flip a page of their books. Billy is wearing a different cologne today, and it’s mellower than the one before but deeply intoxicating either way.

He tries to read and ignore these things but it’s difficult.

Still really pleasant either way.

About ten minutes before Steve’s stop, Billy opens a note in his phone and shows it to Steve.

Text me if you want.

It’s followed by his number. Steve’s insides feel like they freeze solid for a moment, and he probably hesitates too long because Billy shakes his head as if to say, you don’t have to.

Ice melts into something ooey gooey and warm at the center.

Steve smiles and puts Billy’s number in his contacts.

“Thanks, man,” Steve says after he takes the AirPod out and hands it to Billy. “I’ll talk to you soon. Have a good day with Max.”

Billy grins. “That’s up to her, Stevie,” he says. “Enjoy teaching your kiddos. Talk to you soon.”

“Yeah. Talk to you soon,” Steve laughs. He stands and glances back at Billy and gets that damn wink again. The confusing one. So, Steve keeps walking and notices a few people staring at him.

Which is wildly uncomfortable and he has no idea why. People typically don’t find anything interesting about him, even if he has to dress in slacks and a nice shirt for his school.

The bus isn’t a long route. Making coffee in the breakroom and listening to fellow staff laugh and chat away like it isn’t eight in the morning takes longer. But, well. Steve’s been laughing and chatting away, too, so maybe he can’t blame them.

It just took the right guy.

Steve walks into his classroom and waits until the bell rings. He watches his students pour in and take their seats. Some have ants in their pants, some look as tired as Steve feels, and some chat with friends.

He walks to the front of the classroom and claps his hands together.

“Good morning, world travelers,” Steve says. “How were your excursions?”

Various levels of excitement and dread.

“Good! Because today,” Steve says, “we’re doing… dun, dun, dun… dramatic readings!”

They groan and throw their arms in the air or slump against their desks. A few are excited, though—they might be theater kids one day. Who knows?

“Who wants to go first—alright, Hannah! Got that hand in the air nice and quick. We dig the excitement,” Steve says. “Please, come to the front and take us on your trip around the world.”

Jesus, she really has lived a bunch of different lives. There’s no way this kid hasn’t been reincarnated at least six times, and it’s super fun to watch her while listening to her expanding vocabulary and grasp of language.

Danny uses the entire plot of an Indiana Jones movie, so he definitely didn’t do his homework. Still, it’s entertaining enough and watching him struggle and win battles with language is excellent.

Steve marks down where they’re all at, and he’s happy that most of them are pretty close, with a couple ahead of the game and some slightly behind. He hands out some worksheets accordingly and sits at his desk.

He watches them for a bit as they become engrossed with the stories in front of them. Steve only has fifteen kids, which is nice because he can focus on them much easier, and their parents pay a lot of money to ensure it.

It’s the only reason Steve and Robin have a semi-spacious apartment in Brooklyn. The borough was love at first sight when they were shopping around and they refused to look anywhere else—there’s always something to find, see and do.

Steve pulls out his phone, and he really shouldn’t, but it’s easy enough to put it away if anyone needs help. He looks at Billy’s name for a while before tentatively opening a text message.

This might be too early to text but I just did dramatic readings with my students and boy that’s a treat.

It isn’t long before Billy texts back.

What the fuck are dramatic readings

Steve smiles, then purses his lips.

Mister Book Reader should know that. But they’re super duper dramatic at 7 and 8. They had to take a trip around the world last night. Basically read about their assigned country and wrote a few paragraph story based on some facts. Really fun to see what they come up with. One came up with the exact plot of Raiders of the Lost Ark somehow. Truly magical.

Hahahaha
Isn’t that plagiarism

I call it forgetting homework and letting Mom and Dad fix it at the last minute. Or maybe reading Egypt and remembering the movie. Who knows? Super funny.

I bet it was. Good way to start off the morning

After filling my giant thermos with two and a half cups of coffee, absolutely. How’s Max?

Just got here twenty minutes ago. Brought her better breakfast than what they got here. She’s pissy today but she wants to go home so I don’t blame her. They got PT in here right now to help strengthen her hands and fingers. She’s real pissed she can barely give me the bird on her left one

The more you talk about your sister the more I like her.

You can have her. I’ll help with the adoption papers

I really need money tho. Like to survive. If I went and helped her every day I don’t think Robin could keep everything up on her own.

Too bad. She’s giving me the evil eye right now

Are you being mean to her?

I am talking to you babe. She just asked if I’m on girlfriend #23. Really like how specific that is

Jfc. Well are you?

#24. Workin my way to #25

Jesus. You know you kept saying Robin was your kinda girl? Is this a long game to get her number?

She is my kinda girl. We got the same taste in authors and like reading. I don’t even know her otherwise. You got the attention span of a goldfish

That hurts. I’m reading this good book and everything. I’m almost halfway through and I was only 1/3rd when we met. Robin says when I talk I go on tangents. She says “the tangents Steve” but that’s just how my brain works.

Do you got the adhd

When I was a kid, my parents asked a dr with that exact phrasing. Learned about inattentive adhd last year and idk where that was 20+ yrs ago. It could be that I suck at reading and like to talk a lot too.

All you either way. I wouldn’t mind listening to you talk a lot

Most of it is complaining.

Usually is. If you can put up with mine I can put up with yours

Steve coughs a little, sitting up straighter and glancing at his students. He’s been doing that about every thirty seconds because these ages are unpredictable sometimes, but everyone is still absorbed in their work.

Well if you wouldn’t mind. What time do you get home?

7-8

Oh I forgot you work tonight.

I’m my own boss babe. Work can wait

What do you do?

I’m an editor

Like of books???

Yep. Like of books

Jfc. No wonder you love reading so much.

I went after the job because I liked reading so much before that Stevie

Oh ok. Yeah that makes more sense. Do you edit terrible books sometimes?

They’re my choice but sometimes I wonder what the author was thinking. But that’s what I’m there for

That’s super cool man. How late do you stay up?

Depends. Sometimes I like to party on Fridays too. But editing can be until 10 or 12 or 4. I gotta have it peaceful

Do you have a sanctuary?

You know it babe

“Mister Harrington?”

Steve jumps a little and looks up at Jacob. He’s holding his arm in the air like he’s been doing it for a while and struggling. “Oh, hey. Yeah, little buddy? Need some help?”

Jacob lowers his arm and nods, looking relieved.

Steve slips his phone into his pocket and feels simultaneously embarrassed, terrible, and elated. He hops up to help his student and vows to keep the phone for breaks or lunch before it becomes a bad habit.

Can’t get fired.

Recess and lunch can’t come quickly enough. They’re combined here because lunch is prioritized as healthy and why it’s healthy, but recess is interactive. There are a lot of activities to do rather than just sit on the bleachers and kids are encouraged to do them.

It tends to wake them up and keeps up morale for the rest of the day, so Steve loves it.

It also means he has an hour and fifteen minutes to have lunch and veg in the breakroom on his favorite squishy leather couch. He listens to music but doesn’t mind if anyone bothers him because he loves most of his fellow teachers and other staff members.

But his phone has buzzed a couple of times and Steve is dying to check it.

Asked her if I could send this one and she said it should ward anyone off

It’s a picture of Max. Her red hair is in a long braid and she has blue eyes. She’s wearing a sporty tank top and shorts and sitting on a bed. It looks like a hospital bed, but the room absolutely does not—it looks homey and like it could be hers. Steve imagines they’re probably paying a lot for it, but that’s not his business.

Max looks appropriately disgusted, based on what Steve knows about her and her age. She has a tray over her lap that swings from the side of the bed, and multiple balls are on it in different colors. Probably to strengthen her fingers, as she’s squeezing one.

Idk you should tell her it makes me want to meet her more. I think she sounds pretty cool and that’s coming from a guy who knows cool kids.

Gonna tell her they’re 7 and 8yr olds

So what? Cool kids are cool kids, especially if they like reading and telling stories.

Didn’t fly. She wants to know if you’ve ever been around teenagers

I mean I was one once. But I am the unofficial but official babysitter of five teenagers back home. At least for three years I was. Then I moved out here but I still see them a few times a year. They’re all 16 too.

How the hell did that happen

Buddy you don’t want to know. Small towns. The police chief and his wife regularly call me to see how I’m doing. You really don’t want to know.

No I really do want to know Stevie. Where are you from?

Indiana baby.

Fuuuuck I knew you sounded like a midwesterner

You definitely are not from here either.

Nope. California born and raised. Me and Max and her mom. We came out here because of my job

That’s one hell of a change. How long ago was that?

Four years. I feel like this shit is my fault

Dude it’s been four years. No one can see into the future. It’s not your fault.

That’s what people say. Then I look at her here

She only has weeks left before she’s home. That’s seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Yeah. When I see her on her skateboard I’ll probably feel better about things

Or when she can flip you off properly.

That too

I can give you one if it’ll tide you over

In front of all those kids?

You know I’m at lunch. They’re being demons elsewhere.

Man I don’t know your schedule. Please

Steve smiles and glances around the room. A couple other teachers are… reading because that’s what everyone does, he supposes, so Steve takes a quick pic of himself giving the finger.

It’s not bad. His hair is kind of everywhere since he’s lounging on the couch, but Billy has seen him with his hair at his best—maybe not him, but the hair matters.

That’s the cutest finger I’ve ever gotten. You don’t even look mad

Sorry I forgot that part. Probably because I’m not mad.

That fancy leather couch or somethin else?

Something else maybe.

How do we turn that maybe into a hell yeah baby

Terrible. Idk. You’re on gf #24 and working on #25. That seems like a lot to handle at once.

Max is a little liar. She says girlfriend in front of other people and calls me queer as soon as they leave so I ‘know she knows.’ I’ve seen you peekin at me. You like the goods

Steve shakes his head and covers his eyes. “Jesus,” he mumbles, then looks at his phone. Okay, well. Just out in the open like that, and he really needs Robin to be at his side immediately.

Ok hilarious. But idk what you’re talking about I’ve just been losing concentration and you’re like right there.

Sure thing Stevie. You wanna get breakfast tomorrow or Sunday?

“Oh my god.”

“You okay, Steve?” Rose asks across the room, stirring milk into a large mug of coffee.

“Oh, uhh. Yeah,” Steve says, glancing at her. “Just dealing with shenanigans like usual.”

“Crazy how you always find yourself in the middle of them.”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums dryly, then smiles after Rose laughs. He looks at his phone and sighs.

Sunday probably if that’s ok? Robin and I clean house and do errands on Saturday.

No worries. We could hit a brunch spot. I know a few good ones

I’m always down for a good brunch as long as it has good mimosas.

Some of the best

Sounds peachy. I have to head back to class so I’ll text you tonight?

Right on

Steve smiles, internally panicking, and hops up. He fills his thermos with more coffee and heads back to his classroom. Everyone will wander in soon, red-cheeked and excited, and studies might get them down a bit, but Fridays are fun.

He makes Fridays fun for everyone, including himself. And it’s a blast coming up with things that are entertaining, interactive, and fantastic at teaching everyone something.

They love him here. The students, parents, fellow staff, his various bosses. Steve feels lucky to have it at all.

But he doesn’t get home until five-thirty, and Steve is always starving, tired, but ready to tell a bunch of stories if Robin is home and do nothing.

Billy likes to party sometimes and Steve wonders what that looks like these days. He doesn’t know.

“We are at CRITICAL, baby!” Steve says after he locks the door and drops his backpack.

Robin cringes at him from the kitchen. “Is it work or your super sexy train-mate? Also, hello. Good evening, Steve. Yes, very kind of you to offer help,” she says and turns back to a sauté pan. “Smell that?”

“It smells fucking awesome, man. Can I wash my hands first, Robin? Maybe change out of these pants first, Robin?”

She waves her hand dismissively, so Steve hurries to his room and changes. He’d love a shower, but she has something going, and it smells fantastic.

Steve helps her make chicken enchiladas, one of his favorites of theirs. “CRITICAL five,” he says. “That’s the bad one.”

“I don’t even know what system you’re using, but one is usually the bad one, Steve.”

“Wait, really? I’ve always heard five.”

“It’s typically somewhere between four and two. At least, I assume so because I have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t want to be at one, boo.”

“Well, shit. Alright, how about a red alert, Miss Smarty-Pants?”

Robin chuckles. “It must be awful for you to veer out of your usual. How did he look today?”

Steve sighs. “Too good,” he says. “He shared his music with me and we read together. Just so you know. Haven’t chased him off yet. Also….”

He pulls out his phone and shows Robin that he and Billy are texting.

“Look at this! We’re texting each other now. It’s moved beyond the train, man. Beyond the fucking train. He’s telling his goddamn sister about me. And that’s a hell of a story.”

“His sister?”

“He kind of dumped this whole tragic thing on me at six-thirty this morning.”

“Aww. Is he, like… antisocial?”

“No, man! I get this feeling he’s the exact opposite when it’s not cold and miserable that early. I think it was one of those… telling your story to a stranger kind of thing.”

“So, he needed to get it off his chest to a neutral party. Except you shared music and read together. He literally gave you his number.”

“That means more, right?”

“I’m not the one misinterpreting some unknown alert system. I think it does, dingus.”

Steve sighs as he stirs a beautiful enchilada sauce. “We kinda made plans for brunch on Sunday, too.”

Robin looks at him blandly. “Oh my god. And you’re still asking. Okay, so, obviously I need his picture, number and address,” she says. “Brunch! Really? Holy shit.”

“That’s what I’m saying! He’s too fucking good-looking,” Steve says. “My job doesn’t scare him. His tragedy doesn’t scare me mostly because it’s almost fixed and his sister sounds like the coolest. Way better than our sixteen-year-olds.”

She laughs. “You like those sixteen-year-olds,” Robin says. “You’re fooling no one. So, his sister is involved in something?”

Steve shakes his head. “She got in a bad car accident four months ago. Like, numerous broken bones and a head injury. She’s been in the hospital and now in a rehab place. He says she’s pretty much herself, which sounds lucky as hell. She has trouble with her hands and maybe walking still. But she’s out of there in just a few weeks! So, that’s good right?”

“Holy shit,” Robin says, staring at Steve. “Holy shit! Are you serious? Oh my god. Poor girl. Yes, that’s good, too, Steve. Of course it is. You said he goes to help her during the week?”

“Yeah. Keep her company and whatever. He’s his own boss. Oh, fuck! He’s an editor. So, he works at night and on the weekends, so her mom is with her. But that’s what he does all week, man.”

“He almost lost her. I bet that’s really hard still,” Robin says. “Maybe he wanted to share the good news that she’s coming home soon.”

“Billy kinda blames himself for the whole thing.”

“Why? Was he driving?”

“No, no. She was but he said it wasn’t her fault. They all moved out here four years ago and I guess, you know. If they hadn’t, it wouldn’t have happened or whatever,” Steve says, sighing and dishing out some enchiladas on plates. “How do you blame yourself for something like that? She was literally twelve.”

“Hmm,” Robin hums. She doesn’t say anything until they sit at the table with plates full of enchiladas and rice. “Hmm. I smell something. Something between Billy and his sister.”

Steve grimaces. “What’s that?”

“Not totally sure. But something tells me if he feels guilty over something wildly out of his control that he feels guilty about other things. Specifically about his sister,” Robin says. “Maybe they didn’t get along before the accident.”

He frowns. “You think so?” Steve asks. “There’s a big age gap there. Pretty sure he’s within a year of me. Why would they move out here with him if their relationship was shit? It sounds like it’s just his stepmom and Max.”

“Max,” Robin says and smiles. “I don’t know, boo. Family dynamics can be super weird. Super awful. I think you know a little about that.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “Unfortunately. Do you think he’s okay to go out with? Or is he just lonely or something?”

Robin points her fork at Steve. “Bingo. He’s lonely. But I don’t think that has anything to do with giving you his number and asking you out,” she says. “I think that’s all you, Steve. Otherwise? Trust your gut instinct.”

“You’re my gut instinct, Robin.”

“Ugh. How do you even survive leaving the apartment without me?” Robin asks, shaking her head. She smiles. “I don’t have a bad feeling about this. Except for all the freaking out you’re going to do and I’m going to have to listen to.”

Steve smiles shortly. “Very encouraging,” he says. “I’m not gonna freak out. Maybe just about how good-looking he is.”

“Steve,” Robin says. “You came in the door shouting CRITICAL nonsense and I kinda think you meant MI6, which is, like… not us. That’s the King’s business.”

He looks at the ceiling, twirling his fork before he looks at Robin. “Okay. Okay, but,” Steve says. “Wait, seriously? That’s what that means?”

Robin sighs. “I could yell squirrel and you’d go looking for one,” she says, then laughs after Steve pushes her arm. “You literally hear it in movies and shows and don’t even know what it means. Read books! Read books!”

“Who the fuck wants to read about that? Or the government? The crown or whatever?”

She rubs her temple. “Mother of Jupiter. Send me a different boy,” Robin says. “Ooo. Billy is a lover of books. Send him.”

“Hey, now. That’s not until I’m comfortable with putting him near you.”

“But he’s my kinda boy and I’m his kinda girl.”

“Yeah. That’s terrifying for me, specifically. You know that, right?”

“Get a picture of Billy man and send it to me. I must know what he looks like.”

Steve sighs. “Fine! I’m going to text him after dishes. And a shower,” he says. “What if he wants to call me?”

“Are you or are you not thirty?”

“He makes me feel twenty!”

“Alright. I like him. It’s official.”

Well, if Steve has Robin’s stamp of approval, then not much can go wrong. Everything could blow up in his face, maybe, but at least they feel good about the guy.

And something about being lonely just rings true. Billy has to have friends, but people get weird when tragedy strikes, and it’d suck if he’s going through this all on his own. Obviously, Steve doesn’t want to insert himself into his family, so he’ll listen to whatever Billy tells him.

They have to get brunch first.

Robin was making enchiladas when I got home so I helped her. Now I have sticky fingers and germs washed away.

She’s my kinda girl. How do you do it?

What? Teach?

Yeah. I think they’d kill me after one day. Have you seen kindergarten cop

Steve laughs.

I have many times and that is very fun to imagine. They’re pretty polite at this age or starting to be anyway. I love my kids.

You’ve got em all over

I do man. Here’s a pic of me with the kids back home.

Steve likes the picture. He’s standing behind all the kids, and it’s from two years ago, but it’s still one of his favorites. Will and Mike are on bikes, Dustin is proudly at Steve’s right, and they look like a bunch of animals, but that’s what teenagers are. Some days he wishes he had never met them, and some days, he’s glad they’ve taught him a few valuable lessons.

Babe. You don’t look happy at all

Yes I do. I’m literally smiling.

If that’s what you want to call it. You look like you’re wishing you were anywhere else

The picture was unexpected ok? But I like them just fine and I’m perfectly happy. They annoy the shit out of me because they text me individually and in a group chat but we were brought together by fate.

Tf does that mean? At the church?

Lol you couldnt pay me to go to church. No man. I was just living my life six years ago and I ran into a bunch of ten year olds being stalked by the aggressive stage of rabies in a coyote because they thought approaching a tame coyote and trying to pet it like it was a dog was smart. They scared the shit out of me running at my car screaming but I let them in. Then we were all screaming. It was a whole thing. I scared it away by hitting it with my car door and called the station.

I know you aren’t telling the truth

Buddy I so am. I’m literally scarred by it.

Why’d you open the door with a rabid coyote right outside of it?

The age old question. Because it was that or run it over because of where I was parked.

You run it over babe

Yes I know. The chief shouted at me for a very long time to always choose to run it over. Listen I had five ten year olds in my car screaming and crying. One says he got bit and the others tell him to stop being dramatic but I didn’t know if he actually got bit.

Jesus fucking christ Stevie. That’s bananas. Is this what happens in the midwest

NO. No it does not. It’s what happens to me. ME. I have the worst luck on the planet. The kids haven’t left me alone since. I kept them out of trouble with some bullies in middle school too because I couldn’t shake them.

And one of them is the chief’s kid?

The girl yeah. She’s great. We have a strong bond because we get tired of the guys often. And the chief’s wife’s son is the short one on the bike.

This is why they call you and check up on you

Yup. Probably to make sure I haven’t gotten five more. It’s kinda nice tho. They’re basically my parents and awesome as parents go. Mine forget my birthday but call on Christmas.

Shit parents can choke man. Hard to believe a cop is cool

Hey now. Small towns. He’s been tamed by Joyce anyway. They’re great people. Have you had run ins with cops?

I promise my background check comes back clean babe. Just got pulled over a lot back home. Used to get stern lectures from this cop who kept threatening to arrest me for underage drinking. Bad news if my dad saw it was a cop dropping me off at the house

Shit parents can choke?

You got it

It’s good that you’re close with your stepmom and sister.

These days yeah. Max pretends she’s tired of me but she texts me if I’m late and I gotta text her when I get back home or I hear about it

It’s her duty as a 16yo to pretend she’s tired of her older brother.

Takes it very seriously sometimes. Claws come out

Sounds about 16!

Yep. Glad she isn’t into the same shit I was at 16

I mean same. I don’t know her but as a former 16yo into bad shit I can probably agree.

What kinda stuff did you get up to, small town Steve?

Dude small towns. Drinking is a favorite pastime of teenagers. I was friends with shitty people too. Popularity was important and we’d do whatever to get/keep it yadda yadda. I was an asshole to girls too. Especially the ones I was lucky to date but I didn’t see that back then.

Popularity fucks us up sometimes. The need to be popular anyway. I think you and me got some things in common except girls

Lol you just want to steal mine and make her your reading bestie. Yeah I think so too. We’ve got guys in common.

We do. Got my sights set on you guy

I’m terrified by that but willing to go along for the ride guy

Brunch and mimosas

Brunch and mimosas. Eggs benedict is where it’s at.

Babe. I may just have to make you mine

Steve laughs, then covers his face for a while.

Jfc. How do I know you don’t chew with your mouth open?

It’s not just you that likes the goods. Can’t go ruining that by chewing with my fuckin mouth open

Lmao ok ok. But first dates are always walking on thin ice.

You’d know more about that than me

I have no idea what that means. Because I am used to harsh winters? Ice fishing/skating? You go really hard on first dates? Like really fast? You don’t usually have first dates? Is it Grindr?

Yes

Jfc.

How about we enjoy eggs benedict and mimosas?

Ok I’m down. Robin wants your full name, number and address.

Hahaha
You’re only gonna have a good time
She’s my kinda girl

Jesus.

——

Steve spends most of Saturday freaking out, listening to Robin say I told you so, and panic cleaning the entire apartment. That’s to her benefit, he knows, but Robin stays out of his way because it gives Steve something to do with his hands.

He’d like to read to show Billy he’s further into the book, but that’s just not happening, man. Steve can only concentrate on a video game that evening and Billy ruins it by texting him.

They do have to coordinate meeting up, and thankfully, it’s not too far away. They live in bordering neighborhoods and mostly know the same spots, but Billy chooses one that’s a little pricier than Steve and Robin typically shoot for. 

Steve doesn’t mind splitting the bill, but he’s still nervous, and Billy teases him for half an hour because he asks what kind of clothes he should wear. It doesn’t help that he said none first.

Oh, Steve has a picture of this guy. Not the mellow, kind, funny man that lightly teases and makes Steve laugh on the train. Oh, no. He thinks Billy has an entirely different side to him when he’s in his element and not dealing with six-thirty in the morning or tragedies or moody teenage sisters.

This guy has a big personality and Steve can smell it. It’s either gonna be fun or a disaster, but Steve hopes it goes well. He keeps convincing himself he’s too busy to date, but he’s scared, as Robin so loves to remind him, and hasn’t bothered since they moved here.

Fuck, he hasn’t even gotten laid. Of course Steve is scared and that’s putting it mildly. And Billy is a dude, and Steve’s been with dudes, but it still inspires a little bit of extra panic.

He’s mildly worried in the morning but apathy sets in eventually. Steve loves getting to this point because he accepts it’s either gonna be good or bad, and he has to go to find out.

It helps him get ready without many nerves and he does like to make himself look good. Robin gives her stamp of approval and threatens to chop off Billy’s balls if he’s untoward—she has his number now for safekeeping.

Steve leaves the apartment and takes a bus to a restaurant about twenty minutes away. It’s in an old brownstone, cute and definitely a little fancy-looking. There’s a goddamn maître d’ outside at a podium under a white and red checkered canopy.

He’s greeted like he’s been coming here for twenty years.

“Oh, uhh. Thank you,” Steve says, thrown off. “I’m not sure if, uh, he’s here yet. Billy?”

“Billy!” the man says and beams. “Of course. Follow Janna, please. And bon appétit!”

Oh, this is so beyond what Steve typically enjoys.

Thankfully, it all seems normal inside. The brownstone is super cool and modernized for a restaurant while keeping its old charm, but everyone is seated at tables of two to six, and there’s a loud thrum of voices. It smells fucking amazing, and there’s an entire bar that Steve wouldn’t mind sitting at one of these days because it’s charming and unique.

Janna leads him through one dining room and to the next, and Steve sees Billy sitting at a table for two. He’s in front of the last window, so he probably saw Steve thrown off his game, but he doesn’t have too much time to think about that.

Fuck, this guy looks good.

And it’s spring and ten in the morning, a bright, warm, sunny day. This is all good, except Billy is wearing a blue button-up that he forgot to button up, killer jeans, actual boots, a pendant on a thin chain around his neck and an earring that kinda looks like a long, dangling sharp tooth.

There he is. The guy Steve knew Billy had to be hiding under a thick jacket and reading quietly or peeking at Steve. Sharing his music.

By god, though. The open shirt shows off plenty, and Billy looks so comfortable in it that it’s probably something he wears… often. Which is gonna be a problem at some point. Steve already wants to touch him.

At least he doesn’t pull Steve’s chair out for him.

“Thanks,” Steve says to Janna, then looks at Billy. “Jesus Christ. Where’d you find this place?”

“Good morning to you, too, Stevie,” Billy says, laughing. “I found it by livin’ here, man. Not even that far from me. You look more scrumptious than their eggs benedict.”

“Oh my god,” Steve mutters and covers his eyes. He sighs as he listens to Billy snicker, then looks at him. “You are, you know. Jesus. Yeah, you look good, too. Is this your usual?”

“It might be,” Billy says innocently. “I see you peekin’.”

“You make it impossible not to,” Steve laughs. He shakes his head and grabs his menu. “Your face isn’t half bad too.”

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. My face isn’t half bad,” Billy says and whistles lowly. “Guess I got you to make up for the second half, babe.”

Steve smiles, looking at Billy. “Guess you do,” he says. “Let’s start with mimosas.” He looks at the menu, flipping to the alcohol section and perusing it. “Jesus! They have eight different flavors. Oh, man. Pineapple.”

“Pineapple is where it’s at. Mango is good too,” Billy says. “They aren’t shy with ’em, either.”

“Glad I’m taking the bus home. How’d it go with editing last night?”

“Ahh, fuck. Reminds me,” Billy says and leans forward, spreading his hands apart. “I was thinkin’ of that bananas fuckin’ story you told me with the coyote. You should write a book about it.”

Steve laughs. “Oh, buddy. You think I can write? It’s worse than reading!” he says. “You should’ve seen my essays in school. They didn’t make any sense. I don’t know how I graduated.”

“That’s high school, babe. We’ve been out of it a while,” Billy laughs, grinning. He bites his lip, then waggles his eyebrows. “You should write a book.”

“Jesus. Would you be my editor?”

“Fuck, yeah, I would.”

“Sold. I will get started on that soon. How do you even write a book? Just open a word document and start typing?”

Billy shrugs. “Everybody’s got their own style. Make a whole outline of events. Give the characters their backstories and motives. Get plot heavy or barely touch on it at all. Write a bunch of notes in journals. Sit down and just start writing. Worry about all the other shit once the first draft is done.”

“Okay, but,” Steve says, pointing his finger upward. “That literally sounds horrible. Like, all of them. Why don’t you write the book?”

“Hmm. Editing is more my style,” Billy says. “If I ever do, I’ll write up a contract. You’ll get some royalties.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah? What are writing royalties like? Pennies, dollars? Millions if you’re prolific or whatever?”

Billy shrugs. “Could be. It’s decent money. Once you got a name out there and a following, money can roll in,” he says. “And if you’re smart about it, it’ll keep doin’ it. It can be difficult if you’re not churnin’ ’em out but then one catches fire and most of the others do.”

“Huh. I mean, it sounds good. I could totally write a children’s story if you give me a decade,” Steve says, smiling. “Do you edit for any high profile names?”

“I kiss but I don’t tell,” Billy grins. “Yeah. It’s entertainment first and job second for me. I took a job teaching literature and rhetoric outta college. Nice job, too, but shit was rocky back home. And this called my name more.”

“It sounds like you rock at it. Do you ever visit home?”

Billy shrugs. “We’ve gone a few times. I took Max out last summer but Susan couldn’t come because she was workin’. We sat on the beach and it was like lookin’ at a different planet,” he says. “We both grew up on the water and it was rough moving here.”

“I bet that’ll get better. Especially after a couple more years,” Steve says. “I can’t even drive down my parent’s street at home yet but I’m sure I’ll visit someday. Is Max gonna do outpatient physical therapy?”

He peers at Steve with a smile that says he knows all about that feeling. “Yeah,” Billy says. “She’s got trouble with her left leg and hands. They had to do a few surgeries on the left one but she’s got permanent damage so it’ll never be as strong as the right but they’re trying to get it to its best. Her leg is gonna take longer, but she’s down to a cane and only when she needs it. She’s come a long way, man. They were worried she wasn’t gonna wake up and look at her now. She gets real mad when I call her Scarlet Witch.”

Steve laughs, unable to help it. “I dunno, man. I might be on her side for that one even if she’s a superhero,” he says. “Jesus. That’s insane. I’m glad she’s alright. You said completely herself?”

Billy huffs. “Yes, she is. Yes, she fuckin’ is. Forgets a word or two now and then, but she had to relearn how to form sentences and she blew past everyone’s expectations there too. She is a superhero,” he says. “And a witch. I am at her beck and call, Stevie.”

“Because you’re your own boss?”

“And I owe her a lifetime of whatever the fuck she wants,” Billy sighs. “That’s not alcohol, weed or boys.”

Steve smiles and rests his chin in his hand. “No boyfriends yet?”

“Luckily single when this happened,” Billy says dryly. “We’re gonna keep it that way.”

“Hoo. Keep that mindset and she’s gonna hide it from you and you’ll find out very unpleasantly later. Just do what Robin does and she’ll be fine.”

Billy laughs. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. “We’ll see. Robin. She really is my kinda girl.”

“Yeah, yeah. Play your cards right, pal.”

“Always do, Stevie,” Billy says with a roguish smirk.

They order drinks and breakfast and Steve tries not to stare at Billy as he does. But the whole open-shirt thing is fucking distracting. How he lounges in the chair like he owns the place is distracting and very much not fair at all.

Steve asks to take his picture for evidence, and Billy says sure, sweetheart with a grin and gleam in his eyes that makes Steve hot under his collar.

But he takes the damn picture and Billy doesn’t even have to try. His grin is infectious and handsome and so destined to cause trouble. Whether that’s in his life or Steve’s, he doesn’t know.

His phone buzzes in his pocket numerous times, but Steve doesn’t dare look to see what Robin has to say about Billy, which is gonna be a lot.

The mimosas come in big glasses with a pineapple wedge and a little pink umbrella. They’re delightful, and so is Billy.

When they’re not talking about painful things or shitty parents or strange events, it’s easy to make each other laugh and learn a lot, too. Like Billy’s incessant flirting that sometimes makes Steve hide behind his hands because Jesus fucking Christ.

The eggs benedict is perfect, too, and comes with a little mug on the side with extra hollandaise. Who fucking does that? Nobody, that’s who. Places are either stingy or you get no choice and can’t see anything else on the plate. Which is great, but having a choice is nice, too, and the small mug is adorable.

Steve takes pictures, firmly ignoring Robin’s texts.

They take a walk after because it’s a nice place with a shopping district close by. It’s a beautiful day, too, but busy and loud. Still, it’s New York City, and Steve loves it—Billy is very familiar with everything, so he really must live around here.

When he asks if Steve wants to go to his place, Steve has a million responses at the ready.

No. Nope. No way. No fucking way, no fucking how. Not that easy, dude. You aren’t that lucky. Way too fast. That’s dangerous. We don’t even know each other and how dare you?

“Sure,” is what Steve says, and he smiles as he does it. He can practically hear Robin sigh but he’s a big boy.

Billy hasn’t even tried to hold his hand, so maybe they’ll just hang out, and it’ll be a good Sunday.

Except Billy leads Steve to a brownstone a block away, and Steve thinks it’s one of those converted ones to have apartments until Billy unlocks the door and he steps inside. They walk to a set of stairs on the left leading down a level, and Steve blinks.

Nope. Just owns a big, beautiful brownstone renovated with dark hardwood floors that shine, matching wooden railings on the stairs, airy and comfortable furniture in the living room to the left. The walls are painted cream or white and restored wainscotting follows them as far as Steve can see.

A broad, brown leather couch that Steve would love to sink into and take a three-hour-long nap. A massive TV is mounted on the wall, and speakers are in the ceiling. Like, in it.

The kitchen is behind the living room and looks to die for. Billy walks to it to set his wallet and keys down, and Steve glances around at quartz countertops, stainless steel appliances, a cozy breakfast nook that looks well-loved with lots of windows and sunshine around it and thinks about what Robin would have to say.

He looks at Billy and raises his eyebrows.

“Dude.”

“What, babe?” Billy asks with a smile.

“Dude,” Steve says and points at him. “Did we break and enter?”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Maybe ten years ago. No, we did not. S’all mine, babe,” he says. “Not too bad. The only thing I changed were the countertops in here and the bathrooms. Granite was screamin’ too loud.”

“Oh, it was? Was the granite screaming too loud?” Steve asks, planting his hands on his hips. “Do editors seriously make this much money?”

“You got google in your pocket. Look it up,” Billy says, waving his hand dismissively. “It helps that my grandma had a whole lot of money and my dad died before her so it went straight to me ’cause there was no one else. Editor’s salary helps keep it up. My stepmom and Max live with me.”

“Jesus, Billy,” Steve laughs. “You could’ve warned a guy! How many floors are there?”

“Technically four, but they got weird names. This is the garden floor ’cause behind the kitchen we got a big garden space. I get to barbecue in the summer and work on my tan. All I could ask for in life,” Billy says, grinning. “Basement and two upper levels. Mine’s at the top ’cause I can’t have any noise above me when I’m workin’. Got the office of my dreams up there.”

Steve shakes his head for a while. “Holy fuck, man,” he says. “You’re just hiding a million fucking dollars in your pocket, huh? It’s really nice. Robin and I would go insane in this kitchen. Seriously.”

Billy laughs. “You said you were makin’ enchiladas the other night.”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums. “We cook and bake all the time. Winding down from long weeks, anyway. Not that I can complain… too much.” He sighs. “Are we gonna use that big TV?”

“We could. Or listen to some metal and read together,” Billy says, grinning. “I save my partying for Friday nights but that’s my kinda weekend.”

Steve laughs and holds out his hands. “I’d be down but I didn’t bring my book,” he says. “You’re gonna tell me you have it.”

Billy winks. “I have it,” he says. “Lemme grab it. Does Robin got the other one I was tellin’ you about?”

“The, uhh. The hills one?”

“What the Hills Hide, yeah,” Billy says, walking out of the kitchen and to the stairs. “I’ll get you that one, too.”

Steve sighs. “You realize it’s going to take me a year, right?”

“Not if I’m sittin’ next to you and we’re reading,” Billy says. “We’ll get it done, babe. Woo! Get Stevie’s mind open a little!”

“Hey, now!” Steve calls up the stairs. “I read Magic Treehouse. My mind is open to the fucking bizarre, man!”

Billy cackles, and Steve smiles, leaning against the wall. He wants to see Billy’s office, but Billy didn’t invite him, and maybe that’s because it would spell trouble. Steve’s grateful for it, anyway.

They get snacks and drinks and sit on the couch in the living room. The amazing, squishy leather one. Metal comes out of speakers in the fucking ceiling. And they read, pressed shoulder to shoulder.

Steve finds it easier today. Maybe because they’re not on the train and he’s not as nervous. But he’s in a very likely multi-million dollar home with a guy he’s attracted to and is kind of hitting all the right boxes. Not the money thing, but it makes Billy more intriguing, honestly.

No wonder Max is getting the best of the best.

Will he meet her one day? If they’re still doing this in a month, Steve very well might, and that’s what makes him nervous. But he pays attention to the book and feisty Abigail and her crew as they power their way through people with bad faith intentions and a cruel plot. But they keep winning.

It’s a brand new copy of the book, and Steve wonders why, but he forgets to ask. He doesn’t want to break the spell because it’s such a nice one.

Eventually, though, Billy takes Steve home. His stepmom will be home later in the evening, and Steve wants to spend time with Robin losing his mind about everything.

Billy drives Steve home in a sleek Camaro ZL1. It’s a spiffy car decked out, but not all that expensive. He must like Camaros, though, and Steve is now a big fan of them, too.

Watching Billy drive it is, well. Steve learns a thing or two about himself, and the most they do is squeeze each other’s hands when they say good night.

They’ll see each other tomorrow, bright and early.

Steve drags himself up to the apartment and walks inside. Robin sits in the living room with some show on, and she pauses it, raising her eyebrows. He walks to the couch beside her and sits down heavily, sighing.

“Well,” Steve says. “He’s rich.”

“Rich.”

“Like, wealthy. He’s barely thirty. By like, weeks, Robin. Weeks!”

“What do you mean by wealthy?”

“I mean he owns a whole fucking beautiful brownstone and didn’t tell me! Just shocked me with it. There are speakers in the ceiling! We sat and read together for hours. Literally almost done with my book now. Sometimes we talked. Mostly at brunch. With the whole shirt thing.”

Robin laughs. “I figured your lack of response to my texts was due to our mutual shock at how very, very sexy Billy man actually is. Uff da. If I liked men, maybe. No, no. He’s a man,” she sighs. “So, he’s sexy. Your age. Rich, somehow. Do you know how much those homes cost when they’re renovated and modernized, Steve? Tragic family life but getting better. Editor of books, which makes him immediately likable to me. Boo, you have to marry him, like, stat.”

“Oh my god,” Steve mutters, covering his face. “No! No! This is all bad!” He sits on the edge of the couch and holds out his hands. “It’s too much. I like him too much. I barely know him. We’re gonna sit together tomorrow and read and text and then do it all over again every day. Then he might want to go out! Again! This is awful. I’m not ready for this.”

“Uh-huh,” Robin says, smiling. “Kinda sounds like you’re planning ahead and that you are, dingus. Just think of him as a guy that’s interested in you and you’re interested in him. Take it slow if you want.”

Steve sighs. “Okay, but that’s the problem. If we take it slow and it doesn’t work out, then I have all the reminders of taking it slow on the fucking train. I guess I’d switch spots. Same for moving at whatever speed this does. What if we sleep together? And it doesn’t work out? I’d never be able to look at him again.”

“Oh, Steve. You only worry about this with the ones you actually like, you know,” Robin says. “Yeah, maybe they didn’t have wedding bells. Which is good to find out while you’re dating. Just date him. I so, so want to meet this guy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums dryly. “That’s your true motive, lady.”

Robin shrugs. “Perhaps. I see you’ve brought two books home.”

“Oh, yeah! I didn’t have my copy, so he gave me his. He also really wants me to read this one. The one about the hills or whatever. It sounded a lot cooler when he explained it.”

“Because it is cool. That’s a great book,” Robin chuckles. “Go finish yours, huh? You’ll be able to tell him all about it in the morning.”

Steve hums, scratching his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess,” he says. “Alright, ma’am. Will do.” He stands and salutes her. “Off to shower and try not to fall asleep immediately when I get in bed.”

“So, so close to the finish line, Steve!”

He waves his hand dismissively and walks to his bedroom. Steve digs around for pajamas to wear, then hops into the shower. He squeezes his eyes shut and definitely, absolutely thinks about Billy. Steve doesn’t even know his last name and should probably ask at some point.

That open shirt and cologne. That hair. Just, dear god in heaven. He’s perfect and interested in Steve somehow.

Steve usually goes to sleep at nine, which is a crime, but he has time to read tonight. He used to be a night owl and sometimes ruins his sleep schedule on the weekends, but it’s a small sacrifice for doing what he wants and being happy. Maybe if he fell asleep on Billy’s shoulder, he could get an extra forty minutes or so….

He climbs into bed later and snuggles under clean sheets and a comforter with his book. The Runners. It sounds like an odd title, maybe, but Steve has realized how many themes in the book are exactly that. Clever and blatant without being obnoxious. Even Steve knows that.

With only about forty pages left, Steve thinks it’s a home run. His eyelids droop once or twice until Steve changes positions and reads with more light.

And he finishes. He finishes the goddamn book and it’s glorious. Not just because the ending was fucking awesome and everyone won, and the bad guy was defeated, but they came out of everything scarred. Acknowledged they’ll never truly have peace considering what world they live in, and fuck, if that isn’t relatable.

Brilliant. Books are cool, and Steve still will take forever to get through another one, but he’s glad he read this one. The sense of accomplishment is weirdly comforting. He sighs and flips through the last few pages before reaching the book's back cover.

Steve blinks at the author’s picture and the little blurb underneath it that most novels have about them. He stares and stares and stares at the picture. It’s a black-and-white portrait, and the guy is smiling just a bit, resting his chin in his hand as he looks straight at the camera.

From San Diego, California. Likes to surf. Started writing at ten.

That’s about as far as Steve gets before he looks at the picture of Billy fucking Hargrove or, as the author’s name is printed, W.C. Hargrove.

He feels a whole range of emotions he’s never felt before. Sure, shock. Terror. Betrayal. Bamboozled. Lied to. All the good ones and some that are new and equally terrifying.

Steve climbs out of bed to pace restlessly and tries not to scream. Because hoo mama, he wants to scream. He does it silently, shaking the book. Robin is probably watching TV or asleep, so he can’t… no, he absolutely can.

He absolutely can bother her.

He flies out of his room and flips on the dining room light so he doesn’t run into literally everything to get to her bedroom. Steve listens and doesn’t hear anything, which makes him cringe until he glances down at the book in his hand.

Anger flares up again, and Steve knocks lightly on her door, bouncing on his toes.

“Robin? Are you awake?”

“Uuuuugh.”

“Okay, good. Good, good, good. I’m losing my fucking mind!”

“Uuuuuugh,” Robin groans. “Steve, I just fell asleep. What’d you do in the last hour and a half?”

“Oh, baby. Not me. Not me at all! I need to talk to you, like, right now. Please. Sorry for waking you up, but, uh, please? And I will make it up—”

Robin’s door swings open. She’s wearing a long plaid shirt, fuzzy socks, and hopefully some underwear, and her hair is already everywhere.

“I do not want to hear it. Tomorrow, maybe. Then you can make it up to me,” Robin sighs. She grimaces as she looks Steve up and down. “Oh my god. What the hell happened?”

“This! This, Robin!” Steve says, holding up the book. “Did you know? Did you know from that start? Were you in on it too?”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, dingus,” Robin says, lightly grabbing his wrists as he shakes the book. “Did I know what? That you’d like it?”

“Oh-ho. Yeah, I fucking liked it. Except, get this,” Steve says, flipping the book open to the back cover. “Do you see, Robin? Do you see the fucking problem?”

Robin sighs. “If you stop shaking the damn thing,” she mutters and yanks it out of his hands. She stares at the book for a stretch, then looks at Steve, her eyes a bit wider. “Huh. Oh, my.”

“Yeah, oh fucking my! Robin, he wrote the fucking thing! Editor, my ass! He’s an author,” Steve says, then gasps. “Holy fucking shit! He wrote all the other ones too!”

“Oh, dear,” Robin says and cringes a bit. “Okay. Okay, first of all. I need you to calm down a little because it’s not the end of the world, Harrington. Let’s sit down, huh?”

Steve sighs, long and slow, and nods. He walks to the living room, flips on a lamp and sinks onto the couch. Robin follows with an armful of books that Steve really doesn’t want to see, but… he also does. Just to confirm.

“So, this explains the money. He’s pretty popular, but, like… I didn’t know he was literally our age. Holy shit,” Robin says. She hands Steve a couple of books and they flip to the back covers. “One picture here. Younger, but that’s him.”

“The hills one has a picture. And it looks pretty recent,” Steve says and groans. He tips his head back against the couch and shakes it. “He’s been lying to me this whole fucking time. Bastard.”

“I mean… maybe he likes anonymity. Especially since he’s popular and just started using public transit. And you were literally reading his book right in front of him. He probably wanted an honest opinion too,” Robin says. “I bet he didn’t intend for the rest.”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, but we can’t know that. We don’t know his motives, man. No wonder he didn’t invite me up to see his office,” he sighs. “How the hell is he so good at writing at barely thirty?”

“If he started young, which some of these say he did… and you said he had a bad home life… it could’ve been an escape. Writing and reading,” Robin says. “He’s creative and maybe that comes with daydreaming and a big imagination. But you know what, boo? That boy is still into you. He obviously wasn’t in a rush.”

“Maybe. Maybe, okay?” Steve says. “It’s weird, though, isn’t it? I dunno. I have to look at him tomorrow and tell him, buddy, I know everything. And he was shilling his own stuff to me!”

Robin laughs. “Wouldn’t you?” she asks. “He knew you liked it and knows his own stuff. God, I would.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Okay, yeah. But still,” he sighs. “I’m gonna make it awkward. Or yell at him. That’s what I do best.”

“He likes you, Steve,” Robin says, smiling. “I don’t think he’s gonna stop. The ball is in your court, as they say. Don’t you want to get to know him more?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Maybe not find out huge things about him on the back cover of a fucking book.”

“A surprise after your first date.”

“Great surprise, lady,” Steve laughs. “Jesus. We did have a good first date.”

“Have a good second one. Third, fourth, fifth. Listen to his story and make sure he listens to yours.”

“He wants me to write about the coyote thing. Like a book. But then he said he could write about it and share the royalties. Went right over my head.”

“Well, he knew it would.”

Steve shakes his head for a while. “Bastard,” he says. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow. Sorry for losing my mind and waking you up.”

“No, no. I’ll give you this one,” Robin says, grinning. “Totally fair. I’m dying to hear how it goes tomorrow, so text me immediately. Every single detail.”

“Every single detail,” Steve sighs and holds up his hand until Robin smacks it.

He hugs her after they stand, and it’s one of those nice, long ones that threaten to break your ribs, but Steve needs it. Robin pats his cheeks before she goes back to bed, and Steve turns the lights off in the apartment.

Steve crawls into bed and looks at his phone. It’s past his bedtime, and he’s so tempted to text Billy because he’s probably awake, but… no. He’ll worry about it in the morning.

He falls asleep with his hand on his phone and The Runners in his bed.

Morning comes too quickly, as it always does. Mondays seem to come way too fast and this one is speedier. It makes getting out of the apartment and to the station happen in the blink of an eye, and Steve has no idea what to do.

He drank a cup of coffee, right?

Yeah, he did. Stuffed a couple of Poptarts down his throat too. Looked upon Billy’s books with despair. Grunted and grumbled with Robin as their usual form of language, but at least the sun will be out in a couple of months.

That’ll be nice.

Steve passes someone selling flowers before he goes underground and buys two without thinking about it. He hurries down to wait for the train and it doesn’t surprise him to see Billy.

He’s in his big jacket because he’s from San Diego, California, likes to surf, walk the boardwalk, and get tanned up. Work on cars in his spare time. He's used to heat. Went to fucking UCLA and was offered a goddamn job there at an entire twenty-four-years old. Literature and rhetoric, and Billy tossed it to come to New York and be a writer.

But he was already successful, which had happened in California with a two-part series. Steve has so much to catch up on.

“Good morning,” Steve says as he stops next to Billy. He hands him a white rose. “Found this.”

Billy looks at it, raises his eyebrows, and takes it. He tucks it under his jacket so only the petals are visible. “Mornin’, Stevie. Must’ve done somethin’ right to earn a rose,” he says. “How come you got red?”

Steve tucks the red flower under his light jacket. “Huh? Who? Me?” he asks, balancing on his heels. “No reason. Red is just, you know. Pretty. White seems like your color.”

“Uh-huh,” Billy says, sounding amused and suspicious. “You wake up on the wrong or right side of the bed this morning?”

“Buddy, I don’t even know,” Steve says, holding up his hands. “Yesterday was pretty great, right?”

“I think so,” Billy says and waggles his eyebrows. “Can’t wait to do it again. Maybe we can cook dinner together. Watch somethin’.”

“I get to see that big TV in action?” Steve asks. “Sold.” He smiles and looks at the train as it slides to a stop.

They board it, and Steve sits in the corner that’s not cozy, but it’s a corner, and Billy sits at his side. Steve opens his backpack and pulls out What the Hills Hide, shaking it in his hand.

“Look at this.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. You finished the other one.”

“Oh, baby. I so did,” Steve says, grabbing The Runners from his backpack. “You got the white rose because white signals surrender. That you fucking lost, man. Because look at what I found minutes before I planned on getting some good beauty sleep, which you fucking ruined.”

He whips open the book and points accusingly at Billy’s stupid black-and-white portrait.

Billy squints at it. “Do you know him?”

“Dude!” Steve says and elbows Billy. “Dude! Are you shitting me? This whole fucking time!”

A few people glance at them.

He holds up his hands, laughing. “Jesus fuckin' Christ. I surrender,” Billy says, grinning. “Sorry, Stevie,” he adds a little more genuinely. Barely. “Figured I had more of a chance to tell you than you did to finish the damn thing.”

“Oh, sure. Sure, pal. Like yesterday wouldn’t have been a great chance to tell me. Fucking… brownstone on an editor’s salary,” Steve says. “Like, what the fuck, man? That’s why you have white. Dishonest. I’m red. I’m super real and honest. Not hiding something entirely different than my actual career.”

“I like your career. Fits you just right,” Billy says and smiles after Steve glares at him. “Sorry, babe. Last time I’m sayin’ it. Would’ve figured it out one way or another. Now, you gotta answer an important question.”

“Jesus. That makes me feel better.”

“You wanna go out on Friday night?”

Steve stares at Billy, then sighs. “Seriously? What else are you hiding? Are you the King’s long lost eighth cousin, ten times removed? How do you even have the energy to go out or work after being gone all day?” he asks. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Wait! Does that mean partying? Then no.”

Billy laughs, smacking his thigh. “Who says you don’t have an imagination, huh? And it means goin’ out. Get some grub and a drink. A lot of drinks. Seein’ a movie,” he says, shrugging. “Cook dinner together on Sunday. How about it?”

He sighs again. “Grub and a drink. Cook dinner together. Fine,” Steve says. “You fucker. This is why you were really looking at me.”

“Nahhh,” Billy says, then squints. “Well, I wanted to see if you were actually turnin’ the pages the first few times. Then I just liked lookin’ at you. You make cute faces when you read.”

“I do not.”

“Babe. Yeah, you do.”

“No way.”

“Big time, Stevie. Real fun to watch. Adorable. Cupid might as well have struck me in the heart.”

“Jesus,” Steve sighs, then laughs. They lean against each other and Steve shakes his head. “Literally never forgiving you. Give me one of your damn AirPods so I can get started on this one.”

“Made a playlist special for you. You are not a fan of Crimson Glory and it’s written all over your face.”

Steve shakes his head, smiling. “Gonna watch that from now on,” he says. “Thank you, though. I can’t stand those guys.”

Billy laughs. “Hopefully you like this one better. I’ll keep fine tunin’ it just for you, Stevie,” he says. “Learn what makes you tick.”

You and that damn shirt, Steve wants to say, but Billy already fucking knows that. Jesus, he’s a menace, and Steve’s starting to see that.

He’s also a lot of other things and they’re all attractive.

Steve is about to toss The Runners into his backpack, but he pauses and flips open to the first few pages. He reads a few lines and smiles, wondering why he didn’t think about it last night.

Dedicated to a fiery girl who defies all odds and keeps everyone around her on their toes. No matter how old we get, I know you’ll keep it up because you’ll always be my little sister.

Piggyback rides and golden sunsets. You keep us going, SB,

AH

He reads it a few times before Steve sets the book in his backpack and zips it up. He leans back and looks at Billy, staring at the book in his hands. But he looks at Steve and Steve isn’t entirely surprised to see the bright shine in his eyes.

Steve bumps his shoulder lightly against Billy’s and gets bumped back. He smiles and opens the new book, listening to Iron Maiden and wishing his transit was as long as Billy’s.

Or that he had more time during the day to text him.

But Steve loves his kids, too, so he squeezes Billy’s hand and gets off the train to hurry to the bus stop.

Man. That look in Billy’s eyes is gonna haunt Steve for a while but it’s not all bad.

It’s really not.

——

They text a lot. Steve gets over not having much time during the work day because he has a ton of time when he gets home.

Sometimes he calls Billy and Billy is always glad he does. Steve hears Max mocking him, and he calls her shitbird and she calls him asshole, so the dedication page kind of hilariously makes sense.

Billy throws Steve on FaceTime unexpectedly at lunch, and he meets Max, who is bright and funny but super sarcastic and brutal as hell. She mocks Billy relentlessly but asks Steve a lot about his life, and he’s so thrown by the whole thing that he forgets most of it.

Two more weeks and she’s home. A few more weeks at home and maybe Max will head back to school for the last month or so. Mainly to see her friends, where she’s at, and get her back in a public school. She’s excited about it, though understandably frustrated that it’s not happening more quickly.

That she got here in less than five months is a miracle and she’ll realize that more one day if she doesn’t already.

Steve and Billy go out on Friday and it’s a good time. They hit a sports bar and watch the beginning of the baseball season on numerous screens, eat nachos and tasty wings, and drink some fantastic craft beer.

Billy drives Steve home because they’re only bound to get in trouble if he takes him to his place after they’ve been drinking. Because, hoo. They are attracted to each other, and it’s starting to show more noticeably.

Sometimes they hold hands, but a lot of it is in tiny touches on the train, lingering glances and smiles, hugging when they meet and kisses too close to the mouth when they say goodbye. They try not to be obvious about it, but it’s difficult. The gleam in Billy’s eyes says a whole fucking lot and Steve wants to see it more.

And they have plans to cook dinner together on Sunday. Steve goes through his usual panic on Saturday, Robin is there to calm him down and looks like she wants to be launched into space, but it helps. It helps to know he’s being ridiculous, but man, this is more intense than Steve is used to.

And there’s a ton to think about that Steve should just let happen naturally, according to Robin. Steve’s not entirely sure how to do that, but he’ll fucking try.

Billy picks Steve up because it’s easiest that way and slaps his hand on his thigh immediately. “Look at you, Stevie. God-fuckin’-damn.”

Steve shakes his head and holds Billy’s hand. “Hello to you, too,” he laughs and looks at Billy. “Jesus. Why do you even bother?”

“Huh?” Billy asks, glancing down, then at Steve. “I can take it off if you want me to.”

Steve sighs. “Please, leave it on. The two buttons you have on. Looks good, though,” he says and smiles. “Are you ever going to fucking tell me what we’re cooking?”

“Nope,” Billy says cheerfully. “You’ll find out in fifteen, though. Think you can hold on a bit longer.”

“I’ve been known to hold on a bit longer than fifteen, yeah.”

“I like it. I feel like you should show me.”

“You do, huh? Play your cards right, pal. I told you that.”

“You did,” Billy says easily. “Think I’m doin’ alright. I’m gonna show you somethin’ sacred today.”

“Hmm,” Steve hums, eyeing Billy. “That’s not what’s down your pants.”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Ask some people first before you say that,” he says, then grins cheekily. “Gonna show you where the magic happens. I don’t show a lot of people.” He narrows his eyes. “I think you’ll be the fourth.”

Steve laughs. “Jesus Christ. Got it narrowed down, huh?”

“Maxine and my stepmom are two, Stevie,” Billy says dryly. “And the other was a mistake.”

“Yeugh,” Steve says. “We all have those. Mine are back in Indiana.”

“Nobody here?”

“I’ve been too scared to date. I’m still trying to adjust to a different life.”

“Didn’t you come out here almost three years ago?”

“So? I’m from Indiana, man. Small town, flat, no big city fucking Indiana. We have cows and soybeans. Corn. Now I teach at a private school that parents pay a boatload of money for in Manhattan. Manhattan, dude! I live in Brooklyn and take an underground subway. Meet thirty-year-old not-editors who are a giant pain in the ass. I’m lucky I haven’t had a heart attack yet. So, no. No, I wasn’t thinking about dating.”

Billy whistles. “Man. Sounds like you got a lot on your plate,” he says, glancing at Steve and smirking. “Kinda sounds like you need to get laid.”

“Let me out,” Steve declares. He smiles after Billy snickers and shakes his head. “Jesus. Yeah, maybe. In a few months. I’m the real deal, so, you know. We’re taking it slow.”

“Fine by me. I’m gonna woo you with some good fuckin’ food, babe,” Billy says. “And bein’ completely myself. I surrendered to that. All the way down, Stevie.”

“Oh, god.”

“Yep. Au naturel. That’s what you want, so that’s what you got.”

“I take it back.”

“We aren’t playin’ UNO. Can’t go counter-clockwise. No reverse card.”

Steve sighs, then pulls out his phone. “Okay, maybe. But I can lament about it. And you know who I can lament about it with?”

Billy cringes. “Ahhh, fuck. Don’t you dare.”

“Hey, Siri. Play If I Could Turn Back Time.”

Steve sings the whole song with Cher. Billy looks like he wants to drop him off at every street corner they pass, but he smiles, side-eyes Steve, and eventually laughs.

They’re both laughing as Billy parks in the space behind the brownstone. Room enough for two fucking cars. Grass. A grill and a little lounge area. Ridiculous and perfect.

It doesn’t surprise Steve whatsoever that they grab each other the second they walk inside and kiss. Not a slow, easy thing either. It’s a hot kiss because they’re intensely and sexually attracted to one another, and that’s been building quickly, so it’s searing and wet and feels bizarrely personal for a first kiss.

Like they’ve shared a lifetime together already and this is the beginning of another.

They cling to each other as Billy crowds Steve against a wall, but it makes him easy to touch. Steve stops kissing Billy to ask if it’s okay a few times, and Billy tells him he better do it before he’s stuck watching, but that sounds pretty hot.

Still, they have dinner to make. Steve’s starving and wants to devour Billy, but that should be for later, right?

He’s so warm, though. Steve has his hand buried behind Billy’s shirt on his lower back and the other halfway down his jeans and he doesn’t want to move. Not while Billy is pressing open-mouthed kisses along his neck and collar, some that send a bolt of arousal straight through him.

“Billy. Baby,” Steve whispers and bites his lip as he hears and feels Billy’s groan against his throat. “We should wait until after we eat, right?”

He chuckles against Steve, low and intimate. “If you want to on a full stomach,” Billy says. “Or we can sit and watch TV for a while after dinner. Read if you want. Can’t promise I won’t go down on you to start, though.”

Steve makes a noise high in his throat that he’s embarrassed by, but Billy only nibbles the skin on his neck. He’s definitely grinning. Steve feels lightheaded imagining all of that and more with Billy and… yeah, okay.

“Food can wait,” Steve says. He slides his fingers through Billy’s hair and pulls him close to kiss again.

This isn’t moving slowly at all but Steve’s alright with it. It feels like it’s moving at the right pace, and he really, really wants to be in Billy’s bed. It’s up a couple of floors and the top one is entirely his. The bedroom is enormous, the walk-in closet explains a lot, the bathroom is to die for.

But Steve can admire those things later. He has Billy to admire now and take care of and Steve gladly does it.

Fuck, he is gorgeous lying on white sheets. Those blue eyes stand out, but the rest of him… Jesus fucking Christ. Steve doesn’t know what Billy sees in him, but Steve likes every bit of this man.

The money thing is intimidating, but everything else—his grin, humor, sweetness, and vulnerability because he chose someone to be vulnerable with when he needed it most.

That could be life-altering in a bad fucking way, and Steve feels even more honored that Billy chose him and that he gets to see him like this. That's trust and Steve will treasure it.

It’s been a while. It’s undeniable it’s been a while, but it makes them laugh, sometimes until there are tears in their eyes, rather than making them annoyed or impatient. Billy teases and taunts, and Steve kisses him until he’s breathless and a beautiful mess.

Billy wants to be on his hands and knees for a few reasons, and Steve is plenty alright with that. He is because Billy makes it loud and clear how much he enjoys it—enjoys Steve. Steve watches his earring and the chain around his neck swing, and he is plenty alright with this, except he wants to see Billy. It’s their first time, and there’s a burning need to see him fall apart.

Steve leans over, whispers it in his ear, and closes his eyes as Billy moans his name. He doesn’t seem to mind, even if it makes them closer than they’ve been, bare and open-hearted.

They finish together, whispering names, promises and endearments against one another’s skin and lips.

Billy looks so immensely satisfied that it’s a little funny and also arousing, which they don’t need right now. So they lazily kiss for a few minutes and clean up, and Billy smacks a nicotine patch on his shoulder before they get dressed.

Steve wonders if he decided to quit after everything with Max. He doesn’t doubt that’s the reason at all.

They’re both starving, and the idea of cooking for a long time doesn’t sound anywhere near as fun anymore. So they use the grill in Billy’s ridiculous stovetop that Steve would die for, but it must be killer to have during the winter.

Grilled chicken over a slightly cheesy and spicy sauce with spinach and, bam. Delicious. Thankfully, Billy is the type to eat on the couch and not care about putting his feet up on the coffee table.

They have another wonderful Sunday.

It hasn’t been that long but Steve hopes they keep it up.

——

They hold hands every morning on the train. Steve swears some people glance at them with small smiles, but he probably imagines it.

He’s definitely smiling, though.

It’s one of the most relaxing ways to start a workday. Listen to metal and hard rock off his boyfriend’s playlist that he fine-tunes for them, hold hands, lean against each other and also read his boyfriend’s fucking book.

Because he’s a popular, published novelist. Steve won’t ever get over it, and he thinks about making a list of bullshit nonsense to critique in one of the books just to annoy the shit out of Billy.

He sure makes it his life’s mission to annoy the shit out of Steve but Jesus. The cupid thing is totally accurate. They never run into any bumps and seem to sense when they need to rest or take some time out for themselves. Going out with Robin or recharging at home for Steve, and he knows that Billy gets a little moody and wants to be left alone.

Not necessarily from Steve, but from everyone else, and it’s no wonder. It’s not just his sister; Billy and Susan have been dealing with a nightmare for a long time that’s nearly over, and it’s turning from dark and dreary to a dream come true.

Steve stays over on Friday and meets Susan. It’s nerve-wracking, but she’s sweet, kind, and has a bit of spunk when dealing with Billy. They have a good relationship, and they’re obviously teeming with excitement because Max is coming home on Sunday.

They clean some of the house Friday evening, Billy snuggles like an octopus all night, and they get the house into tip-top shape by Saturday night. Steve hurts everywhere and wants to do absolutely nothing tomorrow, and Billy says that’s good—he can go home to relax, or he can stay and wait for them to bring Max. Hang out afterward.

After cleaning the whole home and watching Susan load up the place with Max’s favorite sweets and foods, Steve can’t imagine not seeing her. But he feels like an outsider—they’ve barely been dating, and Steve is so in, but he’s still nearly a stranger to Susan and Max.

Billy says it’s up to him.

“Man,” Steve complains as they sit in the most oversized bathtub anyone could ever need. It’s filled with tall bubbles and they used a natural bath bomb that’s gonna make their skin shiny and smooth. It’s still fizzing near Steve’s ankle. “If you leave it up to me, I’ll never decide.”

“You gonna sit there frozen?” Billy asks, leaning back against Steve’s chest. His words are slurred enough to sound drunk. “Stay and meet her. If the waterworks come on, you got upstairs to escape to.”

“Hmm,” Steve hums, lightly running his fingers through Billy’s hair. It’s getting longer and curling a little on his forehead, and Steve won’t let him cut it. Not ever. “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”

He sighs and looks around the unnecessarily large bathroom. There are three fucking sinks in here. Three. A walk-in shower meant for five people with one of those rain shower head things. And this giant tub that fits them both with room to spare and they have music going from more speakers in the goddamn ceiling and numerous candles lit.

Just about the most romantic thing Steve’s ever been a part of and it’s a bubble bath.

He loves it.

Steve tightens his arms around Billy’s abdomen and chest, brushing his thumb over the pendant he always wears. “You know, if you had invited me to do this the day we met, I would’ve said yes.”

Billy snickers. “Would’ve kicked me in the balls, Stevie. Don’t lie,” he says. “Pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah, pretty good,” Steve says, shaking his head. “I want to live here. Specifically, in this bathroom. Find out what the third sink is for.”

“It’s a fuckin’ makeup vanity. How many times do I gotta tell you? A makeup vanity with a tiny sink. Just doesn’t have the chair.”

Steve laughs. “It’s a third sink, man. It’s extra. That’s what it is. Is that where you do your hair?”

“I can sit on your balls, babe. You know I can, right?”

“Hey, now. No need for violence,” Steve says, kissing the side of Billy’s head. “I just really like your hair a lot. That’s it. I dunno what’s with the hostility.”

“Uh-huh,” Billy says. He holds Steve’s arm and rubs his thigh. “Come see my very fine lookin’ hair once or twice this week since I’m gonna be home.”

Steve smiles. “Yeah?” he asks. “Sure. I’ll come keep you company for a couple of hours. Speaking of that… I know this week is gonna be difficult. They said she’s gonna take a while to adjust, right?”

“Keeps blowin’ past everyone’s expectations, though.”

“Still might be difficult. Would you mind if I brought Robin one night? We could cook dinner for everyone. Maybe Max would join us for something different. Do you think it’s too soon?”

Billy is quiet for a short while before he turns a bit to look at Steve. He smiles. “Nah. I don’t think it’s too soon,” he says. “Bring my girl over. We’ll make it a quiet party. Thanks, babe.”

Steve smiles, relieved. “Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

He kisses Steve, and it’s sweet until it’s, well, not. But they’re in the bath and have time for that tonight. It might be the only time for a while—Steve’s not sure what next weekend will bring.

He’s afraid it’ll bring the end, but he doesn’t tell Robin that. Steve’s not sure how to explain the feeling other than Billy choosing his family first, which wouldn’t be shocking.

Fuck, it’d hurt, though.

——

Steve bakes cookies. The Tollhouse kind because that’s easy and he’s nervous. But he bakes cookies, and while that isn’t a long distraction, it’s a good one.

They look spiffy and pretty once they’re all cooled in a nice container on the big quartz island, and everything is cleaned and put away. Like out of a magazine and Steve sends Robin a thousand pictures of the place. She’s appropriately jealous of the kitchen, but he promises her he’s working her in soon.

Otherwise, Steve noses around the garden, ensures everything is still clean, and tiptoes through Billy’s office. It’s more of a library slash study slash writing studio and one of the coolest rooms Steve has seen.

Billy is generally organized but not here. It’s messy, but Billy’s kind of messy, so he knows where everything is. The books he’s tossed around, journals, spare notes and other things. He has two monitors and two laptops at a massive desk, stained dark to match the hardwood. Otherwise, the walls are pretty much shelves of books, and they’ve super tall and curved neatly at the top. There’s another leather couch in here and a lot of speakers in the ceiling, but also a record player and a cassette player. They’re the only things that are neat and tidy, and Steve has browsed Billy’s music collection before, but he does it again.

Some boxes are in front of the bookshelves and they’re newer copies of his books. Leftovers from signings or sent to him by his publisher to do with as he wishes. He keeps his own stuff at the very back, and while it’s a decent collection, Steve has a feeling Billy doesn’t pull them out to read.

Max doesn’t read them out of obstinance, Billy said, because she’s a little sister. But Steve thinks it’s more than that—it’s seeing bits and pieces of their lives interwoven throughout the books. Steve sees them, what small bits he knows, in The Runners and What The Hills Hide. He’s only a third of the way through but that’s lightning speed for him.

The windows here have a striking view over the quiet street below and other brownstones, trees dotted between them starting to shine yellow, white and pink with flowers.

Steve would love to sit and read here, but he’d probably move a paper and ruin it all, so he tiptoes out and walks downstairs. He watches TV instead, texts Robin, and tries not to fall asleep.

But they took Susan's sporty SUV, and it’s Sunday, so the commute is, thankfully, a lot faster. The sound of the gate scares the shit out of Steve until he realizes what it is and flies off the couch. He rubs his face, tidies his hair, and stands on the other side of the kitchen island. A door to the back garden is past the dining table and he nervously stares at it.

Smiles as he hears Billy, Susan and Max laugh. Billy gets the door and sees Steve, and thankfully, he doesn’t look anything but happy.

Max walks in, using a cane, but it doesn’t look like she’ll need it much longer. “Hmm,” she hums. “Billy. Some guy broke in and baked cookies. Stranger danger.”

“Oh, my bad,” Steve says and fishes around in his pocket. He pulls out a kazoo and blows into it. “Hah!” he says as Max stares at him, one eyebrow raised. “Best welcome home theme song you’ve ever had.”

“Stranger danger,” Max sing-songs as she walks inside. But she laughs and moves to Steve, offering her hand. “Nice to actually see you not through a bad internet connection.”

“You too. I have some super funny screenshots, though,” Steve says, smiling as he shakes her hand. She grins between him and the cookies. “Yeah, I was kinda, you know,” he adds, catching Billy looking at the cookies, then at Steve, an eyebrow raised. “I could’ve not baked cookies.”

“We will take some cookies, Steve,” Susan laughs and looks at Billy. “You know you’re going to polish those off in two days with Max here.”

“I have been in the best fuckin’ shape of my life and I’m not undoin’ it because a kiddo still has her fuckin’ metabolism,” Billy grouses, sidling up next to Steve and pressing against his side. “I’ll take one, though.”

Steve wraps his arm around Billy’s waist and rubs his thumb along his hip. “Tollhouse knows how to do it right,” he says, pushing the container to Susan and Max. “How was it getting out of there?”

“Oh my god,” Max groans. “I’m not allowed to compare it to prison anymore but like a jailbreak.”

“Furthest thing from prison, Maxine.”

“Actually, it’s not. A rehabilitation center is a rehabilitation center, William.”

Billy shakes his head and looks at Steve. “We’ve been arguing about this for twenty minutes. She feels good. That’s where we should have left it,” he says, pointing at Max. “Got PT tomorrow morning, so bedtime is at six-thirty.”

“Sweetheart,” Susan sighs, rubbing her temple as Billy cackles and dodges a piece of cookie Max throws at him. “Are you even sure you want to get involved, Steve?”

Steve smiles, glancing over his shoulder. “Billy’s totally picking that up,” he says. “But I’m sure I’ll make it. I told you, I’ve got practice.”

“Got practice bein’ a bullshitter,” Billy says, ducking away from Steve. “Ahhh.” He grabs a paper towel, wets it and sticks his tongue out at Max, who returns the favor. “The stories this guy tells are unreal.”

“Just called the midwest, pal,” Steve laughs. He looks at Max. “He wouldn’t survive a night.”

Max snorts. “He might have once upon a time. Now he loves pedicures and has a designated room of books and journals and computers no one is allowed to step in because of the process,” she says in a low voice. “Which is just way too much coffee and random screaming.”

“Why do you gotta ruin the suspense, huh?” Billy asks after he cleans the floor, holding out his arms. “I don’t scream. It’s called the creator’s yell.”

“Called a bunch of bullshit, baby,” Susan says.

Steve laughs, holding his stomach. “Oh, shit. So, he’s a mess when he’s writing.”

“The worst,” Max says, wrinkling her nose at Billy. “But his stuff is okay, I guess.”

“Okay, I guess,” Billy says mockingly. “Got a fuckin' Hugo award, but it’s okay. Says the stubborn shit who won’t even read my stuff.”

“You based an entire character off me!”

“Just all your worst attributes,” Billy says. He rears away, but not in time to miss a punch from Max. “Fuckin’ hell, Maxine. Drive yourself to PT, man. I don’t care.”

Max hums. “I totally could, you know,” she says. “Like, as a person who has a license and knows how to drive. Just gotta hope the old girl is up to snuff.” She pats her left leg.

Billy grimaces and looks a little queasy. “I’m fuckin’ driving. No one else,” he says and points threateningly at her. “Go look at your room. We left you a surprise.”

“Hmm. Only slightly terrifying. Do I need Steve? Steve, you’re the babysitter, right?” Max asks. “Shouldn’t you protect me?”

Steve holds up his hands. “Little lady,” he says, “I think you can protect yourself just fine.”

“Ooh, smart,” Max laughs. “That already makes you miles ahead of Billy. Boys are obviously horrible, but… you seem pretty cool.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Steve says, laughing. He smiles as he watches Max leave the kitchen, Susan behind her, who looks back at Steve to wink at him. He sighs and stretches, looking at Billy, who seems vastly unimpressed. “Huh? What? Who? Me? I’m cool, man. Miles ahead. Approved. Never getting rid of me now.”

Billy narrows his eyes and moves closer until he presses Steve against the kitchen island. “Never gettin’ rid of you, huh?” he asks. “That doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. I don’t know, though, Stevie. Max thinks I’m an idiot.”

Steve grins. “Yeah. But that’s what little sisters are for. And I’m real, baby. Honest. We’re both idiots. But being honestly idiotic, real and never getting rid of each other sounds kinda nice.”

“Sounds fuckin’ horrible,” Billy says, grinning after Steve laughs. “I’ll take it somewhere in there. This was a nice day. I was afraid it wouldn't be.”

“She deserves bad ones if she needs them, man,” Steve says and lightly bumps his forehead against Billy’s, then briefly kisses him. “We all do. I know it’s gonna be hard, but… hey, I’m a text or phone call away if you need to talk it out.”

“I know, babe,” Billy sighs. “I know you are. I don’t wanna bother you when you already got your own life and kids.”

Steve huffs, smiling. “My kids are at school and my life is Robin and occasionally going out to eat with Robin. I’ve got tons of room for W.C. Hargrove,” he says. “What’s the C?”

“Christopher,” Billy mutters, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“William Christopher Hargrove. That’s a really strong name. I like it,” Steve says, rubbing Billy’s back. “Was… Christopher anyone you knew?”

“My maternal grandfather. Barely knew the guy and I don’t remember anything about him,” Billy says. “My mom chose that and my dad chose William. Would’ve gone by Will but I hated my name by the time I was six. My mom called me Billy and it was a done deal.”

Steve rubs Billy’s back and closes his eyes. “I’m glad she did. You’re definitely not a Will. Those guys are polite,” he says. “They have manners. I mean, I’m sure you did at six. But look at you now. And Billys are either super hot or super not.”

Billy leans back to raise his eyebrows at Steve. “Uh-huh,” he says and sounds unimpressed. “I know where I fall. But how about we hear a little about Steve Harrington’s middle name, first?”

He squints, then looks up at the ceiling. “Uhh,” Steve says. “I don’t… have… one? Okay, I regret this,” he sighs after Billy grins. “Also named after my grandfather, but paternal. Nicholas.”

“Steven Nicholas Harrington,” Billy says slowly as if weighing it on his tongue. “Strong name, too, babe. But we got a problem.”

“Oh, god.”

“Stevie Nick. Stevie Nicks. You coulda been Stevie Nicks this whole time. Babe. We got her on our playlists and you hid this from me? When you got the same name?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Steve sighs, wiggling away and pointing at Billy. “I regret everything. I lied. That’s not my middle name, fucker.”

“You’re so honest, Stevie Nicks,” Billy laughs. “So honest and real. You remind me all the time. You baked cookies for me and my family while you waited for us. Max is under the impression you’re smarter than me. She gave you a thumbs up. You’re all real, Stevie Nicks.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t wait to hear this for the next month,” he sighs. “Or, you know. Until you can’t stand it anymore.”

“Until I can’t stand it anymore?”

“Mhmm. Losing intimacy hurts.”

Billy narrows his eyes. “That’s cruel, Stevie Nicks.”

“Hoo. We’re set back at least… at least three weeks now. Wanna keep going?”

“That’s a self-imposed punishment, too, Stevie,” Billy says, raising his eyebrows. He stalks Steve around the kitchen island. “You sure you wanna go there?”

Steve shrugs. “Say it again and find out, baby,” he says, pointing at Billy. “You forget I went two and a half years.”

Billy waggles his eyebrows. “I didn’t forget shit,” he says. “But that means I got a lot to make up for each time I see you.”

They barely make it into the living room because Steve is clumsy and Billy is fast, and that’s not a good combination. It sends them flying to the floor, thankfully on a thick rug, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

But nothing too bad and they’re laughing too much to care.

Billy’s slowly curling hair is to die for. That grin does something to Steve’s heart, and he’s a little afraid of what, but it feels incredible. He looks happier than Steve has seen him yet, and he’s not saying goodbye.

Fuck, Steve hopes he never does.

They giggle and kiss until Max sighs loudly from the stairs. They blink and look up at the landing.

Max and Susan peek over it.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the kid?”

“Oh, baby. You’re thirty one day and sixteen the next, Max. Don’t you laugh,” Susan says to Billy. “That goes for you too.”

“Does that mean I get a sweet sixteen party?” Billy asks, rolling onto his back next to Steve. “Invite all my friends?”

“Soo, Steve and…?” Max asks as she walks downstairs. It’s slow going and she’s careful. “Sorry, I can’t remember any other names.”

“This fuckin’ girl, man,” Billy complains. “I got Robin.”

“Who’s Robin?”

“She’s my best friend and roommate. Here and in Indiana,” Steve laughs. “They haven’t even met yet.”

Max snorts. “Sweet sixteen going on thirty plus with Steve and Robin. I dunno. I kind of like it,” she says, stepping off the last step. She blows a strand of hair away from her face. “I hate the stairs.”

Steve smiles. “You’ll be doing it without any trouble before you know it, right?”

“Uuuugh. If months is before I know it,” Max says and shrugs. “I guess. Thanks for the teddy bear and cash, by the way, Billy. And… at least the scar looks better in normal lighting. Not hospital lighting.”

He saw the scar in the kitchen but it’s not like Steve was gonna point it out. It’s about an inch and a half long but jagged from the middle left of her forehead to just above her eyebrow.

A lightning scar joke probably wouldn’t go over well, either. Steve’s sure Billy has already covered that, anyway.

“It looks good, man,” Billy says and stands. He holds his hands out to Steve. “Look at where everything was two months ago and where you are now. You’re gonna be shocked in a couple more months, Maxine. Speakin’ of sweet sixteens, though,” he adds and grins after she cringes, “you want another one?”

“Another one?” Max asks. “What, to remind me that I almost didn’t finish sixteen?” She narrows her eyes. “Actually… yeah. Yeah, totally. Let’s do that.”

“You said yes way too fuckin’ fast. Forget it.”

“You can’t offer that and take it back! I want another one. Oh my god, I barely had the first one down before it all went to shit.”

Steve looks between them, his eyebrows raised. “Hmm,” he hums. “Did you meet anyone at PT you want to invite?”

Billy looks offended. “If you say a goddamn boy—”

“Her name is Lizzie. Her. Lizzie. Her,” Max hisses at Billy. “Oh my god. Anyway. We’re friends now! I’d love for her to meet Mom and see the house. Meet my other friends. And, you know… maybe in a couple weeks, I’ll want to see all of my friends together too.”

He sighs. “Yeah, alright,” Billy says. “Fuckin’ fine. Lizzie,” he mutters. “How come you didn’t tell me about her all the times I was there? Every goddamn day?”

Max rolls her eyes. “Strength training, Billy. Where I didn’t want you to be,” she says. “Okay?”

“Fine,” Billy says. He looks at Susan as she walks into the kitchen. “We got another sweet sixteen to throw.”

“Yours?”

Billy smiles blandly as Max snickers a hell of a lot like he does. “I’m gonna need your help with it or I’ll forget,” he says. “Wanna help me carry some stuff up?”

“Sure, baby,” Susan says and winks at Steve after he opens his mouth to offer.

Steve hums and watches them go before he leans against the kitchen island and looks at Max. “Another party, huh? With a new friend from PT, man.”

“She’s super cute,” Max whispers. “Don’t tell Billy I said so. He has way too much to worry about.”

Steve blinks at her a few times before he sighs. “Ma’am,” he says, “the amount of pressure I am under lately is unbelievable. Solely between your brother and now you, might I add.”

Max smiles cheekily. “You’re doing okay so far, Steve,” she says. “Welcome to the family.”

He grimaces. “Thank you, little lady,” Steve sighs. “I’ll do what I can not to completely fuck it up.”

“You teach little kids for a living at a private school in Manhattan. You have a bestie who is your roommate and you guys came out here together from Indiana. You’re literally dating Billy and he told me he spilled after, like, two times talking to you. He never talks to anyone about personal stuff. I think you have an extraordinary amount of patience, resilience and… goodness, actually.”

“Super fun to hear you sound just like your brother and Robin somehow,” Steve says, pointing at her and laughing as she gags. “I don’t know if I’d say resilience. You’re resilient.”

“I had to be. What would you call it, Steve?” Max asks, resting her chin in her hand, smiling. “Fortitude?”

“No, no. More like gullibility,” Steve says. “I think that’s what it is.”

“Uuuugh. Second grade teacher. Small town Indiana to Brooklyn and Manhattan. Asshole wrangler,” Max says. “I don’t think you were listening. I think this makes you some kind of superhero.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “Terrifying, terrifying,” he says. “Alright, even if you were right, there’s only one reason you are.”

“The asshole?”

“The superhero,” Steve says, pointing at her. “Captain Marvel.”

Max raises her eyebrows like she’s considering it. “Way, way better than Scarlet Witch,” she says. “Doesn’t that mean you’re already cleaning up after him?”

“Hoo. Well, I see the trajectory my life is on.”

She laughs. “Yeah, but… the rest would make it good, right?”

Steve smiles and shrugs. “I dunno. In theory. I’m waiting for him to find me boring.”

“Huh,” Max says. “I think he’s been waiting for someone to realize he’s way more than partying and money.”

“I never thought he was anywhere near being only that.”

“I bet he hasn’t once thought you’re boring.”

Man, she’s gonna take him out at the knees one day. Steve can feel it—Max is definitely Billy’s sister, and she’s clever like him but decidedly more dangerous.

Before Steve can respond, Susan and Billy walk upstairs and round the corner into the kitchen. They have an ice cream cake and some kind of frozen lasagna that Max screeches over and nearly bursts Steve’s eardrums more than Iron Maiden ever could.

Lasagna, ice cream cake, cookies, soda and beer. That’s their night, sprawled in the living room, either listening to Max tell story after story or watching TV and loudly commenting on it.

Steve is comfortable here. He’s cozy next to Billy, but Max is so… well, herself, he supposes, that he can’t help but relax around her. Susan has this kind of small-town charm and easygoing way that makes you feel like her own, even if she’s a bit quiet.

Billy said she would be this weekend, but once everything gets back to normal, she’ll be right back in her element of taking charge of the house while Billy is shut in his office.

Max and Susan call it at seven, which Billy teases Max about. But they’re all probably exhausted, and Steve thinks of his workday coming up fast—in twelve hours, he’ll be on the train, but Billy won't be. It's a massive step for them but Steve will miss him.

He rubs his thumb over Billy’s collarbone after they say good night, listening to Max and Susan’s voices fade. Steve hums and kisses Billy’s forehead.

“Good day?”

“Good day,” Billy says and sounds just as exhausted. “Thanks for stayin’, babe.”

“Anytime,” Steve says, smiling. “You sound tuckered out.”

“Tuckered out,” Billy repeats. “Does that mean tired somewhere?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Everywhere,” he says. “Want me to take the bus home? You know I don’t mind.”

Billy scoffs and looks at Steve. “What makes you think I’m ready for you to leave?”

“Uhh, well,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes. “I dunno. Maybe how tuckered out you sound.”

“Stay right there. Gimme another half hour and then I’ll take you home. The fuckin’ bus. Like I’m ever gonna make you take the fuckin’ bus home. I’m not tryin’ to put myself through that this late.”

“It’s seven.”

“Yeah, whatever. Even worse.”

Steve laughs. “How is that worse—”

Billy holds his hand over Steve’s mouth and keeps it there after he bites him. He grins and slowly slides over until he’s straddling Steve’s thighs.

“Kinky,” Billy says as he pulls his hand away. “But since we only got a half hour… how about you kiss me?”

Steve smiles. “I can definitely do that,” he says. He slides his hand along Billy’s thighs, across his abdomen and inside his open shirt. Just a quick feel before he cups the back of Billy’s neck and pulls him closer.

His guy has had a day. Emotional and tiring for all of them, and Steve is just a bystander, but he’s on their side. He’s especially here for Billy, who holds onto him extra tight, and whose kisses are just a bit sweeter and more tender.

——

It’s touch and go with Max for the first week.

She’s lost and gained independence in equal measure, and there’s no large facility to get lost in when she needs a breather. But no one will barge into her room at home, and she quickly takes to her private space.

Billy tells Steve that they’ve dealt with some meltdowns and some really good high moments. It seems normal from what Billy was told and read and what he told Steve, and he also read. The path to rehabilitation is long, depending on certain factors, but emotionally it’s a big hit, and any significant change will likely be another shift.

Hopefully, this one turns out well.

Before Billy and Steve met, he paid someone to get Max behind the wheel again. It was done with her physical therapist and a driver who could take control of the car if needed, and Billy watched from further away. The first day was over before it began, but with mental health therapy and Max’s intense drive to be independent and back on her feet, she took her lessons.

Slowly, with a lot of tears and nightmares that made Billy want to call it off, but Max insisted. It helped to get that familiar posture, motion in her legs, and her hands on the wheel. To see how familiar the rest was, too.

Driving is out for a while, but it was best to tackle some of it in the rehabilitation center if she wanted to do it.

Steve thinks it’s similar to being home, too, finding familiarity, but once that becomes the same old thing, she might want to go out, whether she’s driving or not. Without any chaperones, just her friends, and Steve thinks Billy and Susan might have a more difficult time with that one.

They probably won’t do well if Max drives independently, but Steve doesn’t see the accident stopping her, especially if she goes to college outside of the city.

But that’s a lot to think about in the future.

They made it through one week and Steve is super proud of them. He also keeps his promise and gets the okay from Billy to bring Robin over. She and Max immediately bond in their shared enjoyment of mocking the hell out of Steve and Billy, but… what fun. Jesus, what fun.

Susan doesn’t mediate whatsoever.

And Steve’s not actually upset.

He stands in the kitchen with Robin and Max while they cook salmon, a pistachio sauce, baby scallops that’ll go over a light bed of pasta, and dirty rice. It’s very involved, fun, and Billy isn’t allowed anywhere near them because he’ll try to take over.

Not that he hasn’t tried twice, but Max threatened to trash the baby scallops, and he’s been complaining in the living room since.

“I mean… he’s definitely my kinda boy,” Robin says slowly. “But he is something else.”

“Tell me about it,” Max mutters as she stirs a roux in a shallow pan with a wooden spoon. “He literally talks about you almost every time he talks about Steve and you just met him tonight.”

“Ohh, my,” Robin laughs, looking at Steve with a grin. “I am truly loved and admired. Worshiped as I should be.”

Steve shakes his head as he keeps an eye on the salmon. “I might be jealous if he wasn’t super gross with his affection all the time,” he says. He smiles after Max gags. “What? I mean, he’s so clingy.”

“I fuckin’ heard that. I’ll show you clingy.”

“Baby, there are children in the house.”

“Me. I am one of them,” Robin says. “Gag. Boys, am I right?” she mutters to Max. “Can’t live with them, can’t… no, no. Totally can live without them.”

“Totally,” Max whispers. “Can I, umm… get some girl advice later?”

Robin stares at her, blinking. “Uh, well, kiddo. That could mean so many different things and I’m probably the worst for all of them.”

Max eyes her. “I don’t think you are.”

She raises her eyebrows and smiles. “Ohhh. I see,” she says, looking slyly at Steve and then at Max. “Okay, no, seriously. The worst. But that’s just for me personally. Of course you can.”

Robin raises her hand and Max smacks it.

“Jesus,” Steve mutters. “I don’t know this. I don’t know any secrets. I literally can’t keep them.”

“I’ll throw the baby scallops away.”

“Man,” Steve complains. “Robin will sear them just right and you’re gonna waste that?”

“Keep secrets, Steve,” Robin whispers.

“Fine! Fine. I guess it’s my turn. Oh, fuck. It’s my turn!” Steve says and snickers. “Never mind. I like this.”

Max laughs. “You really didn’t put it together, huh?” she asks as she stirs in heavy cream and adds a spice mixture they made ahead of time.

“How can you ask me that? Have you heard him talk? He barely has a grasp on the English language.”

She cackles, a little too like Billy. “Okay, fair. Still….” Max says, grinning. “Did you kick him in the nuts?”

“I gave him a white rose. So the bastard traitor would surrender and tell the truth. I yelled a little bit.”

“I did like the rose thing,” Robin says. “Except he’s sent, like, five bouquets of red roses to the apartment now and it’s slightly excessive.”

“Ew,” Max says. “He’s trying to be romantic.”

“Trying? Trying?” Steve asks, holding out his hand. “Little lady, he’s hitting the mark.”

“Dis-gus-ting,” Max sing-songs. “But whatever. I’d send them, too, probably. Maybe. You’ll help, right?” she asks Robin.

“On it.”

They high-five again, but the wooden spoon in Max’s left hand clatters off the side of the saucepan and falls to the floor with a small spray of white sauce.

She doesn’t jump to grab it, and neither does Steve or Robin. They look at her as she stares down at the pan and flexes the fingers on her left hand, which has a few thin, pink-white scars across the back of it.

Max clears her throat and looks at them, and Steve isn’t surprised to see tears at the corners of her eyes. “You know, if it’s just a, um… fuck. A… a spoon,” she adds hurriedly, sounding stressed, “if it’s just that, I don’t have a lot to complain about.”

He thinks she has a lot to complain, talk, cry, laugh or yell about, but Steve doesn’t say it. It might be too early and not his place, and Max has likely heard it a bunch from Billy and her mom. But it makes his heart twinge to see the tears in her eyes, and he knows that Max will work through this for a long time despite her fierceness.

“Well… if you don’t want to complain about that,” Robin says, “we have so many other topics to complain about. Or, like, be in weird awe of.” She slides down to a drawer and opens it. “Not only is this the widest kitchen drawer I’ve ever seen in my life, but there are, like, nine different types of spatulas. At least six different types of wooden utensils.”

Max snorts, quickly brushing her hands over her cheeks. “I know, right? He’s so weird,” she says. “He swears each of them have a purpose. They probably do, too, but who knows if he uses them. Also… you might want to take a picture.”

“Oh, god,” Steve says. “Will he freak out if they're out of order? The spoons too?”

“Steve,” Max says. “You’re new here. So, I’m warning you. If you don’t want to hear him complain about his spatulas and spoons for an hour, take a picture.”

Steve and Robin laugh, leaning against each other.

“Ohh. He still is my kinda boy,” Robin says more loudly. “But he’s losing a bit of his magic.”

Billy looks at them from the couch, holding out his arms. “I am watchin’ TV. I am confined to the fuckin’ couch and I’m still in trouble,” he says. “Don’t you worry, Robin. I’m plenty magical. We gotta read together.”

“And so we shall,” Robin says. “After you’ve shown me the magical realm of your processing studio.”

“Babe,” Billy sighs, looking at Steve. “Stop callin’ it that.”

“What? What? Is that not what it is?”

“It’s an office. A goddamn office. That’s what it is.”

“It’s his sanctuary,” Max says. “I’ve never seen a messier sanctuary.”

“I’m surprised Steve hasn’t tried to rearrange it, actually,” Robin says, looking at Steve. “How’d you even step inside?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “My boyfriend’s a prolific, Hugo-award winning author. I’m not about to fuck that up by rearranging his journals,” he says. “Moving his laptop an inch to the left and dealing with the major fallout.”

Billy sighs loudly. “You hear this shit?” he says to Susan. “I’m gonna be dragged all fuckin’ night.”

“Get back to me when you haven’t earned it, baby.”

Steve laughs. “Oh, boy. Deserved.”

He doesn’t keep his promise to stay out of the kitchen and wanders in, ignoring Max pointing a fresh spoon threateningly at him. Billy sees the mess and cleans it up without mentioning it.

“I don’t smell those babies searin’,” Billy says as he walks to the sink and washes the spoon. “Just hear a whole lot of talkin’ shit.”

“I am not without burns myself, man,” Steve says mildly. “They’re gonna sear up really fast. We’re just about done, actually. Hey, now,” he adds as Billy’s arms wrap around his waist, and he rests his chin on his shoulder. “I’ve got salmon to pay attention to.”

“It’s done, babe,” Billy says, reaching over and turning off the burner. “Looks good. Fuuuck, look at you go,” he adds, looking at Robin as she dumps baby scallops in a pan and straightens them out. “Still my kinda girl.”

“You are my kinda boy,” Robin says, smiling. “But only if you keep being so sweet to dingus.”

“I am plenty sweet to dingus and plan to be even more.”

“Gag,” Max says. “Boys are gross.”

“They have cooties,” Robin says.

“Too much PDA in front of the salmon,” Max adds. “To be cursed with attraction to boys. It’s so awful.”

“You keep that shit locked down,” Billy says. “We got too many worries.”

Max sighs. “Yeah. Okay,” she says. “You’re right.”

Steve rubs his hands over his face and looks at the ceiling, then at Robin. She’s biting her lip, grinning and trying not to laugh, and Steve shakes his head.

Jesus, they’re too much alike. They’re gonna kill him. But Steve’s up for it as long as Billy wants him to stay… and Max, too.

They eat a badass dinner that Steve wants to add to their massive rotating menu, but only if they’re here. It wouldn’t be right to have it without Robin and Max. It’s fucking fantastic, though, and Billy and Susan praise them so genuinely that Max tells them it’s a gift because they’re seafood snobs.

Billy reminds her that she is too.

It’s a terrific night. No doubt about it. Steve feels more settled in with their little family, especially with Robin at his side, who so seamlessly fits in. She and Billy can bond all they want over books and maybe let Steve read at his own pace, which will always be slow and with many distractions.

A whole lot of turning to the back cover and looking at Billy’s picture, too.

They have lemon bars with lemon curd in the middle that are tasty. Billy isn’t big on sweets, but he loves his lemon-anything, and they watch him put two away.

It’s too damn early to be in love.

They go upstairs to grab a few books and get wrapped around each other. It’s a big night for Billy, too, and Steve kisses him, following whatever direction he wants to go.

After a while, they embrace, and Billy’s hands are slightly shaky, tightening on Steve’s sweater. He frowns and leans his head against Billy’s.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” Billy mumbles. “But I will be someday.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault.”

Billy sniffs. “Can’t shake it, Stevie. I’m lucky they bothered lookin’ twice at me, let alone trusted me enough to get them away from bad memories and make somethin’ new away from it,” he says quietly. “They had every right to hate me.”

Steve bites his lip, rubbing Billy’s back. “Why? They love you, man. That’s clear as day.”

“Now, maybe. I’m fuckin’ lucky, Stevie. I was an angry piece of shit stuck at home tryin’ to make it through college when my dad brought a new wife and her little girl in. I was awful to her, man, and told myself it was because she annoyed me. Every time I saw her. Whenever Neil went after me, I went after her. I was stuck at home for another couple of years and it got worse. Then Neil drank himself to death, and they didn’t have anything. I had that job at UCLA and stayed home to support them, but I fuckin’ hated it. I wanted to be on my own and I felt trapped and angry. All I did was write and get that series published, but I didn’t enjoy anything it got me. My grandma kicked the bucket and left all her shit to me, and I think it knocked somethin’ into place that should’ve never been knocked loose. Susan barely looked at me, and Max had just turned twelve, and she was miserable, Stevie. Most of it was because of me. I asked them to leave that shit behind and start over new with me here. I don't know why they trusted me but I’ve been workin’ on fixing it for four years and we’re pretty solid. Then she gets in this accident and I almost lose her.”

Billy’s voice shakes and Steve knows he’s teary. He tightens his arms around him, unsure what to say to… fuck, any of that. Any of that is a fucking lot, and things slot into place—things Billy has said and how he carries this guilt.

It makes sense, even though it wasn’t his fault. Steve thinks Max and Billy would benefit from therapy, but he isn’t going to suggest that—Billy probably needs to see her at her best first. It won’t surprise Steve if Billy needs to see Max as close to before as she can get before he embraces that complete relief.

“Sounds like they knew you were genuine. Probably knew your anger was, too,” Steve says. “And you might’ve hurt Max a lot, Billy, but they chose to trust you. That’s fucking huge, man. I’m glad you’re solid. And I’ll tell you every day it wasn’t your fault. Your stepmom loves you. And that kid down there loves her brother. You did that work. Max is right down there. I bet she’d like a big hug like this.”

Billy sniffs and doesn’t say anything for a bit. Finally, he sighs. “She doesn’t want anyone touching her half the time,” he mutters. “But I could try. I know she’s here, Stevie. I get nightmares almost every night that she’s not.”

“That’s rough, Billy,” Steve says and leans back to look at him. “It’ll get better. Once everyone finds their footing, right? Then you take the next step. You told her she’s gonna be shocked in two months by where she’s at. I’m saying the same thing to you, pal.”

He smiles, shakes his head and looks at Steve’s shoulder. “Babe,” Billy sighs. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s not practicing what I preach.” He looks at Steve. “I know just fine how long the road ahead is. Shit’s scary sometimes.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it fucking is. But you’re all rocking it,” Steve says. “I think you’re gonna be fine. I think you should hug your sister, too, if she lets you.”

“If she fuckin’ lets me,” Billy says. “Let’s get outta here. I’ll hug ‘em both if it’ll make you happy.”

“Definitely would. Robin, too.”

“She’s my kinda girl.”

“Maybe me.”

“We’re gonna do some horizontal hugging.”

Steve shakes his head, smiling, and grabs an armful of books. “Whatever you want,” he says. “I’m yours.”

Billy stops Steve at the door for a kiss filled with promises and more, and Steve will always take it.

After depositing books in a bag, Billy hugs Susan. One of those rib-crushing ones, and Steve can see the surprise and gentle fondness on her face. Max cries quietly against his shoulder, and Billy doesn’t look like he knows what to do except cry with her, so Steve and Robin wait in the kitchen and smile at each other.

They have so much more to learn about the Mayfields and W.C. Hargrove, and they have a lot to learn about Robin and Steve. He thinks they’ll get along like macaroni and cheese and he’ll tell Billy that later just to annoy him.

Billy and Steve take Robin home, but Billy stays with Steve tonight. Let Max and Susan get up to whatever they want and be as loud as they like—crying, laughing, blasting songs. They probably need it, and that’s no bad reason to have Billy over.

They might have to be quieter in bed but that’s fine. 

It's comforting being close and Steve likes cuddling with Billy as much as the other stuff. They can be lazy and do whatever tomorrow, but on Monday, it's back to the grind and seeing where the week takes them.

Steve hopes it’s to better and better places.

“If you doubt my moves this bad, Stevie, we only got one thing for it.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“We’re goin’ dancing. And when you pop a boner in the middle of the floor while I’m workin’ my magic on you, that’s not my fault.”

Steve laughs, rubbing his eyes. “Pretty sure you just said it was,” he sighs and looks at Billy. “Jesus, dude. I’d rather not pop a fucking boner in the middle of the dance floor.”

“Mm mm. Don’t worry. I’d take care of it,” Billy says, grinning. “I wanna dance with you, Stevie. Let the world know you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“We can’t do that any other way?”

“We’ll get to all of ‘em.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “Possibly dancing on Friday. Possibly! I might want to go to fucking bed, man. It’s Friday.”

“You fuckin’ nine to fiver.”

“We can’t all be you, baby.”

“I know that. Nobody can be as unique as me, myself and I.”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums dryly. “William Christopher Hargrove. The most unique person I’ve ever met. Like, damn. Super unique right there. Probably couldn’t find another.”

“I’ll knock your fuckin’ teeth out, Stevie Nicks.”

Steve laughs and takes Billy’s hand, kissing his knuckles. “Hey, I meant it,” he says. “You are.”

“Hmm,” Billy hums suspiciously. “Yeah? Guess you are real and honest. Honestly idiotic.” He winks. “Thanks, Steven Nicholas Harrington. Not only are you unique, but you mean a whole lot to me.”

“Yeah? Do I?” Steve asks, smiling. “I feel the same way about you, pal. Guess we’re gonna have to live with that.”

“Should make life interesting,” Billy agrees. He leans in and kisses Steve, long and lingering. “Mm mm good. What’s our next big thing?”

“Hmm. Summer break, I suppose.”

“Fuuuck. Fuck, yes!” Billy shouts and bats Steve away when he tries to cover his mouth. “Get you all to myself whenever the fuck I want!”

“Jesus, Billy. I have neighbors,” Steve laughs, pulling Billy closer. “Shut up. But yeah. You do.”

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about, babe,” Billy sighs, grinning. “How many books do you think we’ll read?”

Steve shakes his head and rolls on top of Billy to smooch his grin away.

It’s difficult because he won’t stop laughing.

Yeah, Steve’s in love. Fell in love with his train-mate and what a story they’ll have to tell one day. Because Billy looks at Steve and that soft fondness isn’t meant for this weekend or this month.

That’s forever, baby.

Steve couldn’t ask for better luck.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed it! I think I'm working out of this slump. Thank you, Erin and Momma. If there are any mistakes, I'm sure I'll catch them later!

I'd love to hear from you. 💜