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steve turned the tube of mascara over in his hands, heart jackrabbiting underneath his ribs. his eyes then flitted over to the eyeshadow palette he’d bought, palming off the chatty cashier with a tall tale about a birthday present for his girlfriend. she’d brought the lie easily, cooing about how lucky his imaginary partner was. he’d palmed her off with a polite smile, skin itching. as soon as steve had returned home from the department store, he’d bundled the items under his mattress, terrified to even touch them.
the palette was a small thing, harmless. six pans filled with creamy powder: blues and pinks and iridescent sparkles. mascara, too. just a slim silver tube, brush coated in a molten black substance.
billy would be over shortly - an hour, maybe sooner given his penchant for speeding in that ridiculous of car of his - so steve needed to be quick. he inched closer towards his mirror, full length and poised elegantly in the corner of his room. steve’s own eyes pierced through him and his breath fogged the glass slightly. he could see the tremble in his shoulders, the tension in his jaw.
what was he doing?
makeup wasn’t for boys.
steve dropped the mascara and eyeshadow palette into his nearest draw, the plastic hitting the hard wood with a resounding clatter.
makeup wasn’t for boys.
‘billy?’ steve blurted out as the pair devoured a greasy pizza some hours later, freddie krueger’s clawed hands twisting behind the television screen. on the run up to halloween, his boyfriend had begged for them to partake in a horror movie marathon, and steve had never been able to say no to his boy. ‘what do you think of david bowie?’
‘david bowie?’ he snorted, turning to face steve. ‘baby. you know my music taste. please don’t tell me i seem like the kind of guy to like that shit, that’s like a knife in the fucking chest.’ billy then chuckled, flashing steve a teasing grin, but the elder wasn’t in the mood to smile and shrug the topic off his shoulders.
he’d been twisting his identity over in his hands for months now. who he was. and alongside answers from himself, he needed the support of others.
of the one he loved the most.
‘no.’ steve sighed grumpily. ‘not his music. him. as a person. like, you know…’ steve floundered, waving his hands around. ‘style-wise.’
‘again, steve, not my style.’ billy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
‘no! i mean… fucking forget it.’ steve crossed his arms and slapped his half eaten slice of pizza back in the box angrily, appetite ruined.
billy startled, at that, shifting his full attention away from the television set, encased in varnished wood and dripping with decadence.
‘no, tell me. why are you so hung up on bowie?’ billy pressed, eyebrow raised.
‘i’m not.’ steve growled.
‘you are. do you wanna see him in concert or something? because i’ll go-‘
‘billy, drop it.’
‘or his cassettes? do you want those-‘
‘billy, fucking drop it.’
‘ i just want to know what it is , jesus-‘
‘the makeup!’ steve shouted finally, thumping a hand down into one of the expensive throw pillows on the ivory sofa. ‘i wanted to know what you thought about the fucking makeup!’
‘ oh.’ billy blinked, a little dumbfounded. he thought back to the various posters and magazine covers he’d seen, the artist’s face painted with neon zig zags and statement rouge, face a porcelain canvas. it was a far cry from the makeup billy spotted girls at high school wearing. ‘i mean, it’s not terrible. just… weird.’
weird.
of course.
because makeup wasn’t for boys.
‘weird. yeah.’ steve agreed uneasily, glass heart dropping in his chest and shattering into jagged fragments, piercing through his organs. what the hell had he been thinking; expecting? billy pursed his lips, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend. steve’s beautiful eyes were so empty , bottom lip quivering. it killed him to see steve so upset, especially as he didn’t even know the true cause of his distress. famous for putting others before himself, it was sometimes a task to coax steve into opening up, but billy didn’t mind. his boy just needed a little extra love and patience.
for steve harrington, billy had all the time in the world.
‘there’s still something going on.’ the blonde was painfully perceptive; it made him both a wonderfully doting boyfriend and someone who was impossible to keep secrets from.
‘there’s not, honest.’ steve twisted around and lay on his back, head cushioned on the younger’s lap. thick fingers immediately tangled themselves in the glossy locks, playing with steve’s hair like a cat with a string of yarn. ‘c’mon, we’re missing the film.’ billy’s frown didn’t leave his face, but he honoured his boyfriend’s wishes, and the subject was dropped.
over the course of the next week, steve ran the mascara tube over his fingers, a deadly silver baton, eyeshadow palette laid out before him. it wasn’t that steve wanted to be a girl. his gender he was certain of. it was one of the few parts of himself, alongside being bisexual, that made sense. he just… liked makeup. jewellery. skirts.
femininity.
but if it were part of him, didn’t that, in some way, make steve a girl too? in an ideal world, in the eyes of his friends and family, he’d still be steve. the same old plain steve harrington who sported the occasional glossy makeup look or crisp tennis skirt.
billy frequently called steve bambi , princess, pretty boy, baby. but those were just names; just billy being soft. steve doubted he’d take kindly to seeing his boyfriend in a skirt and full face of makeup, no matter how much they cared for one another. he doubted anyone would take kindly to it.
steve had planned to keep the makeup his little secret, something private for himself, away from the prying eyes of the people in his life. his plan fell flat, however, when billy unearthed the products stashed away in his sock drawer.
billy had stopped over one friday night, the autumnal chill of hawkins biting at his skin. steve’s parents, as usual, were travelling the world at large, so billy’s visits had been wonderfully routine.
‘jesus, it’s freezing.’ billy grumbled from where he cuddled steve under his sheets, kissing the top of his boyfriend’s head. ‘can i borrow some socks?’ steve stilled, panicking.
‘sure, sure. i’ll get them.’ steve scrambled over the said drawer, whipping out the first pair his hands landed on and practically launching them at his boyfriend. his mouth split into a knowing grin as he pulled the woollen material over his cold feet, back cracking as he rolled out of steve’s bed.
‘are you hiding porn in there, pretty boy?’
‘what? no.’ steve attempted and failed miserably at sounding casual; unbothered. his voice cracked and squeaked embarrassingly, making billy’s smug grin only widen.
‘oh, i think you are.’ he grinned, mischievous and ridiculous, wagging his eyebrows. ‘ c’mon, show me.’
‘you’re insatiable.’ steve rolled his eyes, back pressed protectively against his chest of drawers. ‘we fucked fifteen minutes ago.’
‘yeah, and if you get your mags out, we can go again.’ billy wagged his eyebrows suggestively and steve snorted, half amused and half terrified.
if billy found the items buried shamefully underneath the cotton and cashmere, he’d instantly be dumped. whilst steve had been assured enough by billy’s efforts to be a better person that he knew the younger wouldn’t tell anyone, he’d still know.
giving billy access to this side of him, an insight into who he truly was, terrified steve. his mind, body and soul would be laid bare in billy’s hands, so easily crushed with just one look or sentence.
‘i don’t have any porn in here.’ steve snapped, a little harsher than he’d intended. billy quirked an eyebrow.
‘what then? drugs? or is it a surprise halloween costume?’
‘can you please just fucking drop it?’ steve half hissed, half begged.
‘you’re acting weird.’ billy stated simply, crossing those gorgeous, muscle-clad arms of his across his bare chest, fleeced pyjama bottoms slung low on his hips.
weird.
and so, to steve’s utter mortification, he began to cry, still guarding that goddamn sock drawer like his life depended on it. he turned his head away, but billy saw the tears dribbling down his face.
‘hey, hey.’ billy stepped forward, cupping steve’s face in his hands. ‘why are you crying, bambi?’
‘because you don’t understand!’ steve spat out, cheeks flushed with upset and anger. ‘y-you won’t understand!’
‘alright, alright.’ billy soothed. ‘why don’t you help me understand? tell me what’s got that gorgeous head in a spin.’ billy’s words turned steve’s insides to molten silk, pooling in softness, but he couldn’t calm down quite so easily.
‘i can’t tell you because you’re… you’re gonna hate me!’ steve’s few tears had progressed into sobs, loud and pitiful. he turned away, burying his face in the crook of his arm.
‘no. no, i won’t .’ billy said fiercely. ‘steve, i love you so fucking much.’ he tugged his boyfriend into a hug, a hand pressing steve’s damp face into the crook of billy’s neck.
‘take a look then.’ steve sniffled, pushing billy away roughly. ‘go on, look!’
billy wanted to respect his boyfriend’s privacy, but he couldn’t just walk away from whatever was going on. bowing to his burning curiosity, billy carefully pulled the drawer open, pushing a mound of socks away to the other side. as soon as those omniscient eyes landed on the eyeshadow and mascara, the past week’s events clicked in billy’s mind.
the incessant questions about david bowie hadn’t really been about billy’s thoughts on the music artist - it had been about billy’s thoughts on makeup. or, more specifically, men in makeup.
‘well?’ steve said thickly, impatient and jittery. ‘if you’re gonna break up with me, just fucking do it.’ billy stayed quiet, barely moving - a stagnant presence in steve’s cold room. his fingers closed around the products carefully, as though the plastic were cut from crystal glass and could shatter at the slightest pressure.
steve gulped, arms wrapped tightly around himself. his upset transgressed to anger. hot and bitter humiliation. why wouldn’t billy just fucking say something?
‘i’m sorry.’ the blonde said finally, turning to face his boyfriend with wet eyes. ‘i’m so sorry you thought this would be something i’d hate you over.’ steve blinked, shocked. ‘baby, i love you. i want you to be happy, and if this -‘ he held the products up slightly - ‘makes you happy, then that’s all that matters.’ steve’s face crumpled again, threefold, and he stumbled into his boyfriend’s arms. relief crashed over steve, weakening his body with the knowledge that billy loved him.
that billy wasn’t leaving.
steve’s sweater cuffs had dropped over his hands, blue fingertips poking out as a child’s fingertips do from his winter coat that his mother promised he’d grow into. billy held steve tightly, hoping that with the more pressure he applied he’d be able to fix steve’s broken pieces back together.
‘i’m suh-sorry too.’ steve wept hopelessly.
‘no. no.’ billy placated, swaying steve gently in his arms. ‘no apologies baby, not when you haven’t done anything wrong.’
when steve had quietened down some, loud wails reduced to soft hiccups, billy sat down with his boyfriend, situated comfortably on his plush bed.
‘if you want to wear makeup, then you can.’ billy insisted softly.
‘why aren't you embarrassed by me?’ steve snivelled. ‘i’m a boy. it’s… weird. you said so yourself.’
‘i didn’t mean it like that.’ billy winced slightly as he reflected on his choice of his words. ‘i actually think this’ll all look really pretty on you.’
‘really?’ steve’s quiet voice asked tentatively, wringing his fingers.
‘really, angel.’ billy confirmed, kissing steve’s forehead. the brunette whined and pursed his lips, an adorably silent plea for a real kiss. billy laughed and complied, kissing into steve’s warm mouth.
‘i’m not a girl.’ steve said when they broke away, wringing his hands together. ‘and i don’t want to be. i-i’m a boy. i like being a boy. i just… like makeup too.’
‘then you’re a boy who likes makeup.’ billy said, as though it were the most simple thing in the world. ‘’s’all there is to it.’
‘but are you really okay with it?’ steve asked thickly. ‘i can’t just turn this on and off. what if i told you i wanted to dress up as tinkerbell or snow white for halloween? you wouldn’t be embarrassed?’
‘baby, no.’ billy insisted. ‘i mean, i think if you want to go as a disney princess that belle would actually suit you the best-‘
‘billy.’ steve deadpanned, rolling his eyes. ‘be serious .’
‘i am .’ billy dropped a kiss to steve’s forehead, smoothing his thumbs over his boyfriend’s cheeks. ‘i want you to feel like a million fucking dollars on halloween, and for every day afterwards.’ billy’s voice dropped, quiet and sincere. ‘it also doesn’t need to be halloween for you to be able to wear a dress. anyone looks at you the wrong way on any day of the year, i’ll fucking kill them, baby. jeans, suit, dress, skirt, i don’t care. you’re mine, and i love you.’
not trusting his voice, steve pressed a bruising kiss to billy’s lips. the blonde tugged his boyfriend on his lap, curling his arms around his petite waist.
‘i love you so much.’ steve sniffled, trying not to cry again. ‘you don’t… you don’t understand how much this means to me, billy. for weeks, i’ve been so fucking scared of you finding out, but i don’t know why. i know you love me, so it’s been a waste to worry.’ billy gripped his chin gently, forcing him to maintain eye contact. steve had a terrible habit of letting his eyes wander during a serious conversation, embarrassed at his own vulnerability.
‘it’s okay to be scared, stevie.’ billy promised gently. ‘i promise. but you never, ever have to be scared around me. i love you for you - for all the parts of who you are.’ billy cupped his cheeks, dropping a kiss to his nose. ‘and if that includes makeup and dresses and the like, then that’s what it includes.’
…
steve greeted billy on the evening of that halloween in a gorgeous white slip dress, dainty angel wings, and a face full of soft makeup.
glamorous and dangerous and so fucking loveable.
he slipped into billy’s camaro and buckled his seatbelt, babbling excitedly about the bar they were visiting out of a town - a bar in which they could freely hug and kiss and dance to cheesy halloween songs. billy watched steve’s lips move, but he’d openly admit that he hadn’t caught a word his boyfriend had said. the blonde had been too focused on the shimmering powder dusting his boyfriend’s eyelids and the sparkling lip gloss (cherry flavoured, as billy would later find out), adorning his lips. steve looked so happy and free. an accentuated version of himself.
‘billy.’ steve pouted playfully, poking his thigh. ‘you aren’t even listening to me!’
‘i am baby.’ he smiled, reaching over the console to kiss him gently. it had been a white lie, but what came next would always reign true for the blonde and brunette.
a duo in love.
‘i’m always listening to you.’