#also its 2am pls dont judge too hard if its not great hskbzidhdo

[jungleboyfriend]

Beloved (Billie Kay blurb)

For @superkickparty because they (I'm not 100% sure on ur pronouns) want Billie Kay fics and I want to write (also I'm gay)

Friends to lovers, idk if it counts as angst but I tried, mostly yearning and fluff.

Billie Kay x gender neutral reader (masculine clothing described)

Also partially takes place at a party of sorts, so au where there wasnt a pandemic. Or takes place before of a while after. Take your pick. Dont party during a pandemic or I'm stealing your spine.

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Two years, six months, and eight days. It had been two years, six months, and eight days since you realized you were in love with your best friend, and god only knows how long before that you actually fell for her.

It was your other best friend, Peyton, that made you see. All it took was her showing you one single picture for the realization to hit you like a freight train. The longing eyes, the easy smile, the way you looked like you would float away at any second, all because Billie was laughing at something stupid you had said.

Looking at the picture, there was no denying it anymore. You were in love with Billie Kay, your best friend. Your beloved best friend. Peyton promised not to show Billie the photo, but she did keep it. "For your wedding one day," she had joked.

For two years, six months, and eight days, that sentence and that photo clouded your mind, and you still didnt know if it brought peace or pain.

The thought made you giddy, picturing a wedding for the two of you, imagining her dress, the flowing white fabric draped over her form, swirling around her like clouds around an angel, sent from heaven just for you. But these thoughts never lasted long. The clouds always turned grey as you remembered that she didn't know how you felt, and what would be at stake if you told her. You could lose her, maybe forever. Truly a fate worse than death.

A knock at your apartment door pulled you from your thoughts. Peyton was on the other side, but not for long. You had just barely gotten up to answer it when she came bursting through the door, a wide and happy smile across her mouth and cheeks, but a mischievous glint in her eyes. She had a plan.

"Get dressed, get fancy, we've got a birthday party to go to, black tie. Chop chop, darling," Peyton announced.

"Well hello to you too, Pey," you said through a laugh. You didn't argue with her, though, you learned to not do that long ago. You made your way to your closet, making a beeline for your wardrobe. Peyton followed suit, no doubt to make sure you were actually going to dress up, and not crawl out the window to escape. Again.

"So is this actually black tie or are you trying to set me up again?" you questioned, flicking through your fancier clothes.

"Both," she answered simply. "Billie wanted to get her hair done first, so she's meeting us there." You looked back at your friend to see her wiggling her eyebrows. You shook your head, deciding against throwing a slipper at her.

Nearly an hour later, both you and Peyton were dressed up, her in a simple blue dress that hugged her curves, and a white blazer overtop and white heels, and you in a pair of black dress pants, a red button-up, and a black tie. Together you headed out to the front of your appartment building to wait for Billie.

It didn't take long for her to arrive, pulling up and immediately yelling out the window about how good you and Peyton looked. You both got in the car, laughing at Billie's wolf whistles and compliments.

You couldn't help but notice, however, that the shirt that Peyton had specifically picked out for you, matched almost perfectly with the red dress that Billie had on. The colour suited her skin so well, and the shape and length did wonders to accentuate her beauty, even though she didn't really need it. She was damn near perfect on her own. But the knee-length fitted dress with the slit at the thigh definitely didnt hurt.

"You look beautiful, by the way, Billie. That colour suits you," you managed to get out.

"Thank you, love! You look dashing as well. And look!" she began, "We match!" She pointed between your shirt and her dress with a big smile. You couldn't help but smile back, nodding along with her laughter.

Your arrival at the party and the following hour or so went by without incident, but people inevitably came up to Billie to talk, to catch up, to flirt. You tried to stay calm about it, but it was hard. Watching other people flirt with her, making her laugh, making eye contact, it started to hurt.

Muttering something about fresh air to the girls, you made your way to the back patio. It had started raining, so there wasnt anyone else out there, meaning you got to sit and sulk in peace. At least you thought you could. Peyton came out moments after you, sitting next to you in one of the patio chairs.

"Talk to me," she said softly.

"Am I selfish? All I want is her attention, and every time someone else has her attention, it just hurts. It hurts a lot, Pey. They're all in there making her smile, making her laugh, keeping her attention. I want that to be me, but I can't. Not right to her face, it's not fair," you mumbled.

"No, no, you're not selfish. You're in love," she replied.

"Then why do I feel like garbage? I feel greedy, and sad, and tired, and all I wanna do is run up to her and hold her, and tell her I love her, that I'm in love with her, but I can't! I can't lose her, Peyton. I'm scared," you vented. By the end, there were tears running down your face, and your hands were shaking.

You looked at Peyton to see her looking past you at the door, a look of shock on her face. Against your anxiety, you turned around, and sure enough, there was Billie. She was staring at you, eyes wide and mouth hung open. She heard you, and she knew you her talking about her. You could feel it.

"Should I, um, should I go back inside and let the two of you talk?" Peyton asked.

"If you dont mind," Billie said, moving forward, her eyes not leaving you. Her gaze was soft, yet piercing at the same time.

Peyton hurried inside, making sure to close the sliding glass door behind her, shutting the blinds on it for good measure to give the two of you privacy.

"Billie, I can explain," you said, though you didn't really know how to. You had no words, not that you could form at least.

"Were you talking about me?" she asked - no, demanded. She was too in shock about what she had just heard to be properly polite.

"I'm sorry, Billie, I, I never meant for you to hear it like that, you deserve better than that, I'm so sorry," you choked out, holding back tears. You stood up to leave, thinking that's what she wanted from you. Before you could go, however, Billie grabbed your arm, not hard, but firm, and tugged you towards her. She wrapped her arms around you, burying her face in your hair.

"Were you talking about me?" she repeated. You nodded, not trusting your voice. Billie pulled back, grabbing your fa e between her hands. A joyous grin was spread across her face, tears welling in her eyes.

"You love me? You're in love with me?" she beamed. Shocked, you simply nodded your head again. She pulled you back, gripping your head and pressing her face into your neck. "I love you too," she whispered.

"You do?" you asked, awestruck. She lifted her head, but made sure to keep your bodies close.

"God, with all my heart! I've loved you for so long," she replied. You looked into her eyes, and saw nothing but absolute truth, love, and adoration.

A smile broke out across your face, matching hers, and you leaned your head to rest your forehead against hers.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked softly, running her thumb over your cheek, catching a stray tear. You nodded again, trying to save time this time.

Quickly but softly, she connected her lips to yours, a smile still playing at both of your lips. So caught up in the bliss of your dreams coming true, you barely heard Peyton on the other side of the window cheering, knowing she wouldn't have to try and play matchmaker for her two oblivious best friends anymore, after two years, six months, and eight days.