#and i think its cause both their egos are fuckin colliding into each other when theyre in the same room

[gifti3]

i love how they swarm this man

[hartigays]

#1 "I'm in love with you" cause I'm just a sucker for straight forward confessions 🤩 thank you bb!

1. “I’m in love with you.”

the air tonight is crisp and cool, and the breeze ruffles steve’s hair as he makes his way down the train tracks, bat slung over his shoulder.

steve is on high alert, his eyes flitting around in the darkness, keeping the beam of his flashlight low. billy’s footsteps crunch through the leaves beside him, and the sound raises steve’s hackles, setting him on edge.

billy is smoking a cigarette, the smoke blowing in steve’s face with every drag. they’ve been walking in amicable silence for about twenty minutes now, but with the noise billy’s boots are making, it’s growing less and less comfortable.

primarily because steve can’t hear any looming threats. if there are any, steve likes to have a heads up before things come charging out at him, ready to tear his head off at a moment’s notice.

“don’t think we’re gonna find anything tonight,” billy laments, tossing his cigarette butt on the ground and putting it out with the heel of his boot. “and ‘m fucking starving. maybe we turn back? go grab burgers or something?”

“we have to meet jonathan and nancy at the junkyard,” steve reminds him, sweeping his flashlight across the tree trunks. “they’ll think we’re dead or something if we don’t.”

billy just snorts, shrugging. “good. maybe then they’ll stop asking us to hang out and shit.”

“they’re my friends,” steve says pointedly. “no one said you had to accept their invitation. but i happen to like hanging out with them.”

“whatever. guess ‘s not so bad when they leave to go suck each other’s faces.”

steve pauses, giving billy a strange look. “you saying you prefer to hang out with just me?”

“you’re better company than the momma’s boy and the princess who thinks she’s annie fuckin’ oakley,” billy tells him, and steve can practically hear him rolling his eyes. “don’t let it stroke your ego.”

taking a moment to turn that over in his head, steve falls silent, rolling his flashlight between his hands. he knows billy doesn’t like nancy and jonathan, but he likes steve. he’s made that much clear. and okay, that maybe makes steve feel a little special.

because billy doesn’t like anyone. but for some reason, he’s taken a liking to steve.

over the last few months, since his indoctrination into the monster-fighting, upside down defense squad, billy hasn’t grown close to much of anyone other than steve. joyce has made some headway, and max gets the soft side of billy when no one else is looking, but other than that, steve seems to be the only one close enough to billy to see past his brash exterior.

and maybe that’s given steve a soft spot for him. maybe a little more than a soft spot - maybe something closer to fondness. despite billy always being a bit of a dick, and nearly impossible to please or get along with, he tolerates steve more than anyone else.

which, yeah, is a pretty good indication of steve’s current self-esteem level. he’s able to develop a soft spot for someone who merely tolerates him a slight bit more than other people.

but sometimes it feels like more than that. billy actively chooses to hang out with steve. he actively chooses to lose a bit of his edge whenever steve is around. he actively chooses to stick by steve’s side during their nightly sweeps, despite putting up a front of complaint at the prospect of having to spend the night traversing the woods with him.

if that causes steve to gravitate towards billy more often than not, well. no one needs to know that but him.

most certinaly no one needs to know about the tingly feeling steve gets whenever he manages to make billy smile, either. so he keeps it to himself, locked away in a corner of his mind that even he doesn’t dare to cross if he can help it.

“guess i should feel special, then,” steve says finally, his lips twitching a little.

billy opens his mouth to answer, but a rustling coming from the woods on billy’s side has them both stopping short, flashlights pointed at the trees. steve scans the treeline, squinting. and then they hear it again, a rustle and a low chitter, the very noise that always makes steve’s blood run cold.

steve fumbles for his walkie, dropping it on the ground. billy just walks forward, making a beeline for the trees without so much as a flinch.

“billy, wait, we need to call for backup,” steve says, his voice hushed, dropping his flashlight as he leans down to pick up his walkie.

“i’m just gonna check it out, calm down,” billy calls back, and his voice is already distant, his flashlight dim in the thick of the trees.

when steve rights himself, securing his walkie on the waistband of his pants and his flashlight back in his hand, billy is nowhere in sight.

“billy,” steve hisses, sweeping his flashlight back and forth across the treeline. “billy!”

with steve’s anxiety mounting, he takes a step closer to the trees, calling out for billy once again but getting nothing in response. he pulls his walkie from his waistband and tries calling for the others, but it’s busted after its impact with the train tracks.

“shit,” steve mutters, shoving the now-useless hunk of plastic back onto his waistband.

steeling himself, steve takes a deep breath and shoulders his way into the woods. his hands are trembling, the beam of his flashlight shaking. it’s not making his visibility any better, so he tries to guide himself by sound rather than sight alone.

he calls out for billy every now and then, his voice a rough whisper. the deeper into the woods he goes, the more it feels like he’s stepping into a vacuum, the silence becoming more and more deafening.

there’s not even the sound of leaves rustling. as the lump in steve’s throat grows, the feeling of dread growing in his stomach gets stronger and stronger with each passing moment.

steve is walking for another few minutes when he hears it. it sounds like a strangled-cry, half-choked and close enough for steve to follow. he turns in the direction of the sound, breaking into a jog as he twists and turns through the woods, dodging trees and underbrush as he goes.

the treeline breaks when he reaches a clearing, and steve scans the area with his flashlight, his heart hammering in his chest. the light finally lands on what looks like a large, squirming mass. at first glance, it doesn’t look like anything distinctive.

then, steve’s eyes adjust, and he can see the demo-dog on top of what can only be billy, being barely held back by billy’s arm. steve can see its teeth sinking into his forearm, and can hear billy’s strangled curses.

“hey!” steve calls out, and the demo-dog pauses it’s attack, it’s head turning towards the sound of steve’s voice.

steve only falters for a moment when he’s confronted with the face of his nightmares, opened up and baring its rows of razor-sharp teeth. then, he’s charging forward, swinging his bat and clocking the dog on the underside of its neck.

the blow sends the dog flying a few feet back with a broken whine, coming to a stop and resting lifeless on the ground. steve kneels down next to billy, offering a hand to help him sit up. billy’s arm is chewed to hell, but there isn’t bone or muscle showing. a good sign.

“you okay?” steve asks, his chest heaving.

billy gets to his feet, wincing when steve’s hand brushes against the mangled skin of his arm. “yeah, fucker just caught me by surprise.”

“i told you to wait,” steve mutters, taking billy’s arm gently and examining it, his grip delicate.

“you’re really gonna bitch at me right - steve, move!”

steve feels it before he sees it. it’s a searing pain, the feeling of hundreds of teeth sinking into his shoulder. he pitches forward with a strangled yelp, knees colliding with the dirt beneath him.

he grapples for his bat, but the force of the dog jumping on him had knocked it from his hands and out of his reach. steve reaches back, grabbing for something, anything. he gets his hand around the leg of the dog, trying in vain to pull it from his back, at the same time that billy swings his axe.

steve hears the high-pitched whine and the wet crack of the axe cutting through flesh and bone. the pressure of the dog’s teeth releases, and he feels it slowly slip from his back.

“hey, hey,” billy says, kicking the dog with his foot to move it out of the way. he sinks to his knees next to steve, peeling off his jacket and pressing it against steve’s shoulder, applying pressure to the wound. “you’re okay, c’mon. i got you.”

“motherfucker,” steve groans, flinching when billy’s hands apply more pressure. “that’s gonna leave a mark.”

billy snorts, scooting around until he’s facing steve, tilting his chin up to give his face a quick once-over. “gotta make sure it didn’t get that pretty face. that’s your money-maker.”

“ha ha,” steve says, monotonous. “you’re hilarious. ow, don’t be so rough, damn.”

it’s then that steve notices billy’s hands are shaking, and the wild, wide-eyed look he’s giving him.

“hey, you okay?” steve asks, his voice laced with concern. “it’s just a shoulder. shoulders heal.”

“yeah,” billy mumbles, taking a steadying breath. “thought it got you in the neck, though. scared me so damn bad i almost shit my pants.”

“so nice to know you care,” steve jokes, rolling his eyes. but it’s fond, because billy’s being serious, and that makes steve’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

billy just blinks at him. “i’m in love with you, dumbass. ‘course i care.”

steve chokes on his own spit, billy’s words feeling like a sucker punch to the gut. “you what? did you hit your head? suffer some mild brain damage?”

“if i did it happened about six months ago,” billy mutters, helping steve to his feet.

and steve knows. six months ago was when billy joined their little monster-fighting group, seemingly voluntarily. for reasons no one could understand, but seem blindingly obvious now.

“you’re really gonna spring this on me when i just got a chunkling ripped out of me?” steve asks, steadying himself now that he’s back on his feet. “when i can’t even move my damn arm?”

“do you really need to?” billy asks, stepping closer, and again when steve doesn’t move away. “move your arm, i mean?”

“i mean, no,” steve says, “but that just means you’re gonna have to do all the work.”

“not a problem.”

when billy’s lips find steve’s, it doesn’t feel like some mind-blowing revelation. it doesn’t feel life-changing or eye-opening or any of that romantic novel type shit. it just feels right.

billy’s lips are warm and soft, and his kiss is far gentler than steve would’ve expected. maybe that’s just because steve is still bleeding into billy’s jacket and billy is being careful, or maybe billy is just surprisingly different from the person steve had built up in his mind. either way, steve can’t help but tangle his other hand into billy’s hair, crowding in closer while being careful to not aggravate billy’s own wounds.

the taste of nicotine and tic-tacs is pleasant as it spreads over steve’s tongue. billy knows how to kiss, steve will give him that. so well that it leaves steve’s head spinning and his lips tingling, chasing that taste and tenderness with a hint of desperation.

“can we at least get that burger now?” steve asks when he pulls away, and billy huffs out a laugh.

“i think we should get you to a hospital first,” billy tells him, shaking his head with a smile.

“fine. but after that, burgers,” steve repeats, letting billy push him gently towards the treeline.

“sure. whatever you want, pretty boy.”