“Hey!” Steve was waiting at the front door and was practically running toward the car before Billy even turned the engine off.
Considering Steve opened with a glare, and most recently around the back of the arcade, an insult, the experience was minorly surreal. Billy stomped out his cigarette and opened his arms to Steve with a shit eating grin.
He could see the exact moment Steve remembered how their dynamic was supposed to be.
“Don’t leave me hanging, baby,” he crooned when Steve hesitated a full arm’s length away. “Get over here.”
“You’re gross,” Steve whined like he hadn’t been bathing in Billy’s scent for days in secret. He also moved close enough for Billy to grab him and pull him in.
“You wearing my shirt again?” Billy asked, catching a whiff under the sweater Steve was inexplicably wearing on a summer evening. He tightened his grip just enough that Steve let out a cough.
“I’m just selling it, you know, in case your monster bite didn’t do it.”
Billy slapped his ass for that before he let Steve struggle away.
Normally, Billy never did dinner with the parents. If he could help it, he didn’t do ‘dinner’ period. Hawkins was a piece of shit town for a lot of reasons, but one of them was the fact that anyone he even glanced at immediately wanted to know ‘what they were’ and ‘what were his plans for their future’.
An omega like Steve would be the last person Billy would consider playing this sort of game with. Except for the fact that it wasn’t just an omega like Steve. It was Steve. And Steve Harrington, with his bambi eyes, chinchilla hair, and giraffe legs, had been driving Billy insane since he first saw him across the room at some girl’s Halloween party.
His pretty face, his sweet scent, the dumbass shit he said with a straight face, it was as though someone specifically designed the perfect person to torment Billy.
The torment being the fact that Steve refused to look twice at Billy. Every exchange, every look, every scrap of attention was something he had to fight tooth and nail for.
He’d been so caught off guard when Steve approached him outside of the arcade that he’d brushed him off on instinct. He hadn’t expected to walk into said arcade looking for Maxine, only to find Steve stinking of him.
So obviously some priorities were shifting a little bit.
“So I don’t know how much WASP shit you’ve dealt with,” Steve said as they neared the front door. “But be prepared for a lot of questions about yourself that basically mean they hate you.”
“Uh huh,” Bill said absently as he took in the entryway. The house was about three times the size of his, but it was...actually kind of ugly in Billy’s opinion.
“They actually already started eating too,” Steve closed the front door and stayed leaned into Billy’s side. “I told them how late you were coming and my mom took a Xanax; it was great.”
“Cold food doesn’t make us square,” Billy said, moving quickly past Steve’s weird glee at provoking his parents.
“It’s not cold. I kept a plate warm for you.” Steve hesitated for long enough that Billy looked at him, and then he reached out and grabbed onto one of Billy’s belt loops. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His voice was instantly softed, simpering even. Only the movement out of the corner of Billy’s eye kept him from believing it.
“Steven,” came a woman’s voice. There was something the slightest bit off about it, even faker than the tone most older women affected around him.
Billy immediately turned, flashing his most charming smile.
“You must be Mrs. Harrington,” he said, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist so that they were pressed close. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She might have been pretty to some people, with her impeccable makeup and permed hair. But her eyes were glossed over and she moved her mouth like an attempt to smile that she was too lazy to follow through with.
“You made it,” she said, hazy eyes drifting briefly down to Steve’s hair on his pants. “Did you have car trouble?”
It was a little exciting that the passive-aggression was starting immediately. He laughed and gave Steve a little squeeze. “Just getting dolled up. You said you saved a plate, baby?”
“I did. I hope you like meatloaf.” Steve pulled him past Mrs. Harrington, who didn’t bother to move from the middle of the doorway.
“I’m a fan of meat,” Billy grinned.
Mr. Harrington was outright aggressive when Billy entered the room. He stood from the table, like his extra inch let him tower over Billy, and squared his shoulders. The alpha posturing might have impressed some people, but Billy raised an entirely unfazed eyebrow.
“Good to meet you, dad,” he drawled. “I can call you ‘dad’ right?”
“You may refer to me as Mr. Harrington if you have to at all.”
Mrs. Harrington’s heels clicked on the floor as she passed Steve and Billy to stand next to her husband. It was Billy’s first time actually seeing them after spending nearly a year hearing all about the wealthy Harringtons.
They probably thought they made an imposing picture, glaring at Billy over the dinner table like that.
He turned to Steve with a sweet smile. “Where’s that meatloaf?”
“In the kitchen,” Steve glanced between Billy and his parents with an indecipherable look. “I’ll get it.”
Billy planted a kiss on his cheek and moved around him to pull out a chair at the table. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington sat as well.
Dinner was tense and filled with so many backhanded compliments that Billy had to leave the room to laugh several times. He spent over half his life convincing himself that he didn’t care what anyone thought, but there was no effort required with the Harringtons.
He hated them more, he cared less, and every time he sent a pithy comment back Steve would laugh quietly against his shoulder. It was possibly the best night of Billy’s life.
Steve’s parents lasted about an hour before they started insisting how late it was. Billy, having scarfed down everything on his plate in the first ten minutes, didn’t bother putting up a fight.
“Oh my god,” Steve’s knees buckled dramatically once they were back out front. “That was amazing. That was so great.”
It was, but the instinctive tightening of his gut kept Billy from entirely enjoying it. “Are you going to be okay after I leave?”
Steve gave him a questioning look.
“He’s,” Billy jerked his head back toward the house, “not going to do anything is he?”
“Oh,” Steve shrugged carelessly. “He threatens to cut me off sometimes. It scared me, back when the scariest thing I could think of was being broke.”
Billy wondered what Steve experienced to make him say something like that, but he didn’t ask. Instead he lit a cigarette and said, “so you still owe me food.”
“Meatloaf,” Steve pointed back at the house. “Remember, you horked it down at everything.”
“I’ll hork down a burger on Friday,” Billy batted his eyes. “Don’t you want to be a good provider?”
“You’re the alpha!”
“That’s very old fashioned of you, Harrington.”
Steve balked, “wait, no, I didn’t mean that.”
Watching him fumble for words was almost as fun as watching him do anything else. Billy snorted and offered the cigarette. “Too late,” he said, blatantly staring as Steve took a drag, “I’m already offended.”
“Sure you are,” Steve rolled his eyes. “But considering how we got here, fine, I will owe you a burger.”
“Friday,” Billy said.
“Friday,” Steve agreed. He offered the cigarette back but Billy waved him off. “I just want to say again, thanks for this. It really was weirdly the best night I’ve had in a while.”
Funny, Billy had a similar thought earlier. “That’s sad.”
Steve flipped him off with the cigarette dangling from his mouth. He made such a pretty picture that Billy turned away to get back in his car. “See you around, Harrington.”