Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve had met Scott first. 

He was six months pregnant. For all intents and purposes, he was homeless. He had two dollars in his pocket, and another six hundred in his three week old bank account.

It was raining hard when he went into the diner. He didn’t know him at the time, but Scott was at the counter. 

“Let me know how I can help you.”

Steve didn’t say anything. He smiled, and clutched his jacket tighter around himself. He liked to keep his belly hidden. 

He looked at the prices of everything. 

A grilled ham and cheese with fries came in at about twelve dollars. 

Steve left again. 

He lingered in the alley, trying to look available. He knew he got one when he made eye contact, smiling his best little teasing smile. 

The guy made a bee-line straight to him. 

Steve’s knees were wet and muddy when he came back into the dinner. He had twenty-five dollars in his hand. 

He kept his coat on while he ate, tucked into a little booth in the corner. 

He didn’t like how the guy at the counter kept staring at him. 

He was picking slowly at his food, trying to keep his clear excuse to sit in the warmth for another few hours. 

“Benny, where’s the Help Wanted sign?”

Steve's ears perked up. 

He couldn’t make out the response from the back, but the guy behind the counter disappeared for a bit, and then came back out with a black sign. 

Steve was on his feet in a second. 

“Hi, uh, do you have applications?”

The guy gave him a huge smile, one that made Steve feel weak in the knees.

He gave Steve an application and a pen.

He filled it out at his booth, adding one final signature to the bottom, when two people sat in the booth across from him. 

One was the guy from the counter. Scott Clarke, he said. The other, the owner of the place. Benny Hammond . 

Benny read Steve’s application right there in front of him. It made Steve feel like he could puke. 

Although, that could just be the pregnancy.

“Do you have a Food Handlers’ Permit?”

“Not in the state of California.”

Benny just nodded. 

“You can get those easy. You think you could do the course by the end of the week?”

Holy shit.

Is he being hired right now?

“Definitely.”

“Alright, then. See you Monday. You want mornings, or evenings?”

He didn’t know. 

“Whatever you need. I’m pretty open right now.”

His heart was racing, and that usually means-

The pup gave a kick. 

Oh.

Shit.

“I should. Well, you should know. I’m, uh, pregnant.”

He was expecting the awkward silence. 

He wasn’t , however, expecting Scott to break into a big smile. 

“ Oh, I love kids. When are you due?”

“Two and a half months. Which, I mean, I’ll try not to take much time off! I’ll try to be back as soon as I can.”

Assuming he can find childcare. 

Whatever. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. 

For now, he’s honestly just going to bring the little thing with him to his nights at the club. They only have him working Friday nights, trying to keep him a bit of a special attraction.

“No. You take as much time off as you need. And you call us if you need a babysitter.” Scott scribbled two phone numbers on the bottom of Steve’s application, thinking for a moment before writing down a third. He tore it off and gave it to Steve. “I added the phone number for this old place, in case we’re here.”

Steve had to blink quickly to keep himself from fucking crying. 

“Thank you. That’s, that’s so nice of you.”

“How old are you?” Benny asked. His face was kind, and Steve, for fucking once, didn’t feel like he was being judged. 

“Twenty. Nearly twenty-one, though.”

“And it’s just you? Or do you have a partner?”

Steve liked how he asked if he had a partner. Not automatically asking if he had an alpha. 

The pup gave another wiggle.

“No. Just me.”

He hasn’t seen Anthony in almost five months. 

He just sucked a dick out in the back alley for enough money to buy a sandwich and a milkshake.

Benny gave him a nod and a smile. 

“Well, finish your dinner. Come in when you can with your food permit, and we’ll get you set up for Monday morning.” Benny shifted to get out of the booth, towering over the table. 

He looked like if he gave a hug, he’d squeeze the whole person so close to him that they’d feel like they’d never get hurt. 

Steve really wanted one of those hypothetical hugs. 

Scott followed him out. 

“Thank you. Both of you.”

Benny was already halfway back to the kitchen, but Scott lingered. 

“Don’t mention it. Just, do me a favor, Steve?” Steve nodded quickly. “Be careful? I-well. Just take care of yourself.”

Steve swallowed thickly. 

He thought he heard someone take out the trash while he was back in the alley. 

“Yeah. I will.”

“Dinner’s on us.”

Scott gave him a last smile and went back to his spot behind the counter.

-

Steve didn’t know where to sit. Billy had thrown himself heavily down onto the sofa, and Steve didn’t want to sit next to him, as that might crowd Billy. 

And clearly, Billy needed some space. 

He was all tense, his shoulders drawn up around his ears, and his head in his hands. He was leaning forward over his legs again, elbow propped up on his knees. 

Steve so wanted to go to him. To sit next to Billy and rub his back. To give him a fucking hug. 

But instead, he stood in the doorway to the living room while Scott set the electric kettle to a boil. 

Making tea was kind of Scott’s thing for overwhelming situations. Benny said it gives him space and time to think before he just dives right into the scary stuff. Steve tried it once. He spilled boiling water on his foot and it just made everything worse. 

He carried two mugs into the living room, placing one on the side table next to Billy, and taking his own to one of the armchairs on the opposite wall. 

“Steve, I’ve made you a cup. It’s in the kitchen.”

Yeah, Steve knows a please go away when he hears one. 

It would hurt, but he gets it.

Whatever Billy is about to say, it will be easier for him to get out if Steve’s not there. 

Steve just nodded. His tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth and there is no way he could speak even if he knew what to say. 

He retreated. 

The kitchen was through a swinging door slightly down the hall. If he tried really hard, he would be able to overhear the conversation in the sitting room. 

He decided he would wash the few dishes left in the sink instead. The sound of the faucet would drown out the confession he didn’t want to hear. 

Billy deserves a private moment with this. He deserves to tell Steve on his own time, if he wants. 

In the meantime, he’s going to have to figure some stuff out. 

Mostly, how he’ll break the news of Billy’s re-incarceration to Maisy. She’ll miss him so fucking much, but if he tells her that Billy made a mistake, he’s going to have to explain what drugs and addiction are, and she’s five. She won’t grasp how serious of a disease addiction is. She won’t grasp that Billy’s mistakes don’t make him “bad.”

There’s still a part of him that is really hoping he won’t have to have the Billy’s going away for a while conversation with Maisy. Truthfully, he hopes he’ll never have to have that conversation. 

There was a greasy pan in the sink, and Steve scrubbed at it, humming to himself in a way that he hoped wasn’t distracting to Scott and Billy in the other room. 

-

“You can test me, if you want. I swear .”

“Billy, I’m your sponsor, not your parole officer. If you say you didn’t, I believe you.”

Billy’s not too sure how in the hell he lucked out with people this fucking compassionate in his life. Who just, take his word for it. 

I didn’t do coke.

Okay.

He sipped at the tea Scott had made him. It was still too hot, and it burned his upper lip and tongue. It was too bitter and he didn’t like it. He took another sip. 

“I almost did,” he muttered into his mug. “I came. So close . It was right there, and I just thought. I could go somewhere, and do a bump. I could do a line. I kept telling myself that no one would know. That I could do a little bit, just this once, and I’d be fine. It wouldn’t be like last time.”

“And what stopped you? You gave it to Hop, and you found me. You did the right thing.” Scott kept doing that, telling him he did the right thing, made the right choice.

“Lotta shit, I guess. Kept thinking about my sister. I talked to her yesterday, and she made this joke, like it was stupid joke about what her boyfriend was watching on tv. But she made the joke to me , and we haven’t been in a place where we can fucking joke together for years . And she told me, she said Billy, one fuck up, and we’re done , and there’s no way that it wouldn’t be a fuck up. There’s no way I would only be able to do it once. I know that. 

“So I just, reacted. I put it on Hopper’s desk, and I was going to talk to him, and explain, but he wasn’t in there. And I couldn’t be alone with that shit. So all I thought was just, to find you. And I knew Steve and Benny could help me. So, the diner.”

Scott had been silent, and the term active listening kept drifting through Billy’s mind at the serious look on Scott’s face, and the way he kept nodding. 

“Billy, I’m so proud of you.”

It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear, and it caught him off guard. 

“Seriously, I keep reassuring you that you did the right thing. But, you pushed through something very dark, something that many people fall victim to, and you kept yourself safe. I’m so proud of what you did today. You kept yourself safe.”

“I don’t feel fucking safe,” he grumbled. “It really shook me up. And to be honest, I’m still jonesin’. I’m still thinking about that baggie and how much I wish I had done a line. How much better I’d feel.”

“Only for a moment. The best highs have the worst crashes. And I mean that literally and as a metaphor.”

The running water in the kitchen finally turned off, replaced by the clinking sounds of dishes being put away. 

“He’s nervous,” Scott said. “He feels like he’s overstepping.” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen where Steve was making himself busy. “Make sure you talk to him, okay. He doesn’t know this mess like we do.”

Scott opened his mouth, furrowing his brows at Billy. 

“I also, as his family, I just need to make sure that you both know what you’re doing. Being in a relationship at this stage of your sobriety, it’s hard. It’s hard to have this other person when you do need to be putting in extra effort to your own wellbeing. I think you two are great together,” Billy’s face was growing warm. “But you both need to be honest with yourselves. 

“He’s a caretaker. It’s just his personality. And I’m not saying you’d take advantage of that, not the way some people have,” Scott rolled his eyes. “But maybe it could help you. Don’t break his heart. Don’t go back down that path and make him face a difficult decision. But don’t let him be the only thing keeping you together.”

“What was it like for you and Benny? I mean, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, and you don’t have to talk about it. Actually, nevermind.”

Scott smiled at him.

“No, it’s okay. This is what I’m here for, as your sponsor, and as your friend. Benny and I had already been together for a long time when I started using. I hid it from him, because I knew it would kill him to know what I was doing, and I was right. When he finally found out,” he sighed, trailing off. “He was heartbroken. He blamed himself, he blamed me. He blamed everyone and everything. He worked his ass off and sold our house to put me into rehab. He told me that if I relapsed, he’d leave me.”

Billy didn’t know how to feel about that. It felt harsh, that one mistake would cost the relationship, but he also. He gets it. It’s one mistake after a series of harmful shit, and sacrifice.

“And he did. I relapsed, and we broke up.” Scott said it matter of factly, sipping his tea.

“ What? ”

“Yeah. I had a major relapse. Found my old dealer, went on a bender. He told me we were through until I got clean. He said if I was sober in a year, we could talk again. He had sacrificed so much to get me clean that first time, and when I relapsed, he couldn’t take it. It felt like I’d betrayed him. It hurt, but I knew why he did it. He couldn’t love me through it if I wasn’t loving him. We were legally separated.”

“So, you relapsed?”

“Twice, actually. I did it again about a month after we broke up. But I managed to get it back together. We both kept our word, and when we were both ready, we renewed our vows.” Scott leaned forward. “When we say that relapse is a part of recovery, it’s not bullshit. Most of us have relapsed. But, you have more on the line, unfortunately. I wasn’t arrested for my use. Relapse caused me to lose nearly two years of marriage, it caused me to lose my husband’s trust, but for you-”

“I really don’t want to go back to jail. Trust me.” He doesn’t like to think about the time he spent there. Not the months he did in juvie here and there in his youth, and not this latest stint. Parole may suck in some ways, but at least he had bodily autonomy.

“I see that. What you did today proves it.” The humming in the kitchen grew slightly louder as Steve clearly finished fussing with the dishes. Scott smiled, looking towards the doorway again. “Do you feel ready to talk to him? I can give you guys some privacy. I should probably inform Jim that you’re here and okay.”

“Um, sure. Is it okay if- I don’t really know how to ask this,” Billy started, his face going hot. Why the fuck is asking for help so stupid and difficult?

“Billy, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Okay, fucking mindreader. “We have a guest bedroom. I can take you to get whatever you need from your house and you can stay here.”

“That’s, thanks. Yeah. I’d like to. Not be alone.”

“I know. I know you don’t trust yourself, and that’s okay.” Scott stood up, taking his mug of tea as he moved to the hallway, raising his voice slightly. “I’m calling Jim. Steve, do you need me to pick up Maisy?”

The humming stopped abruptly.

“Please. Thank you.”

There was the sound of keys jingling, and then quiet murmurs. 

Steve appeared in the doorway of the sitting room right as the front door opened and closed. 

Steve was pale, and he was chewing on his bottom lip. 

He looked so awkward, like he didn’t think he was allowed to be in the same room as Billy. 

But then again, Billy hadn’t been very forthcoming with everything. So Steve thinks-

Billy patted the couch next to him, and Steve sat, his body facing Billy’s, but his eyes darting all around the room.

“I found some cocaine in a car I was working on. There was a dime bag in the glove compartment. It’s the first time since I went to jail that I’ve actually had my hands on it. I really, Steve, I almost did it. I almost relapsed.”

It was like every muscle in Steve’s body relaxed. 

“Oh, Billy. I’m, god I thought, Hopper told me you left an apology, and I thought that you had-I’m so sorry. I should’ve known you wouldn’t.” 

Holy shit, Steve looks like he’s about to cry. 

“It’s okay! I mean, I really wanted to. I could picture it. I saw myself tapping out a line, and I kept telling myself how I could get away with doing it. I was so scared.”

“I was scared too. I thought you had, and I didn’t know how I’d have to break the news to Maisy. She loves you so much, and if you had to leave, she’d be heartbroken.” Steve shook his head. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t,” he repeated.

“Steve, I’m an addict. I’m always gonna be an addict. Relapse is, I mean, it could happen.”

Steve looked like he was going to cry again. 

“I want you to know, I wasn’t judging you. I mean, I thought that maybe you had, well. But I didn’t think you were, like, a bad person for it. I know this, I know that it’s something that can be much bigger than you. I felt, sad mostly. And confused. I didn’t know how to explain it all to Maisy. Addiction, and that.”

“Well, I hope that you’ll never have to. Not because of me.”

Steve’s phone chimed loudly, a text from an unknown number popping up on the screen. He read it quickly, a small smile tugging at his lips before he turned the phone for Billy to see.

Hi, Sweetie. This is Joyce Byers. Scott let us know that Billy is safe. Tell him to stay where he is. Tell him we’re proud of him .

“I’m proud of you, too. I haven’t said, but I am. You’re-I mean, shit Billy. You’re so fucking strong . I can’t imagine having to face that. I don’t know if I would’ve made the choice that you did if I were you, honestly.”

Billy watched the way Steve was playing with his hands. 

“I left my dad’s house when I was sixteen. I was already a reckless kid. I already had a record. I’d already been to juvie. I was a pain in the ass, and rude to everyone. But the night I left, Max fucking begged me not to leave. She told me that she loved me, and that she could help me. She cried and tried to hold onto me so I wouldn’t leave. And she wasn’t the type to show emotion like that. 

“I didn’t see her for a year. And I was pretty-I mean I was in it, when I crawled back to her. I was couch surfing, and spent every minute I could high. She was twelve, and I fucking, I wormed my way into her life to fucking ask her for money. She was so happy to see me, and I’ll never fucking forget the way she just looked so disappointed the second I asked her for whatever she could give.

“And every time I forced my way back into her life, she’d be happy for a second, and then so disappointed . I kept thinking of her disappointed face. And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt her again.”

“Billy, I think you should tell her that. I think that’s some important shit for her to know. And, maybe this will really show her that you are serious. That you’re putting in all this work in order to get better. She should know how important she is to you.”

Billy was silent for a moment, mulling it over. 

Steve was right. Max should know how important she is to him. 

“I think I need to get a phone. I’m kind of sick of using the last pay phone on Earth just to tell her I miss her.”

Steve smiled at him again, and Billy felt that familiar flop in his stomach that came whenever Steve looked at him like that. 

“Let’s get it tomorrow. I think, for now, we should let Scott parent us like he wants to.”

-

It didn’t take long for Scott to return with Maisy, and she raced into the house the second she could. 

Steve picked her up, squeezing her tightly and kissing the top of her head. 

“Daddy, can we stay tonight?”

“We can stay for dinner, but we will have to go home at some point, Pumpkin.”

She pouted at him.

“But, everyone’s here! And I wanna stay here.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking it over. Billy probably wasn’t in any state to be watching Maisy tonight, and Steve really needs to work. He probably should take a client too, to make up for whatever he didn’t make today. Not that he blames Billy! It’s just that he left the diner in the middle of his shift, and Benny’s a saint, but Steve can’t make him pay for work that Steve didn’t do. 

“Okay. Okay, you can stay tonight, and I’ll be here in the morning to take you to school.” She beamed at him, and it was one of those smiles that Steve always burns into his memory to think about when he starts to feel like he can’t keep it going anymore. 

Billy was still closed off and quiet, but he seemed more relaxed than he had earlier. Scott had insisted he stay the night, and he had even already started making up the pull-out couch before Billy could object. 

And if he felt any kind of embarrassment, or anger, at Scott wanting to keep an eye on him, he hid it well. 

In fact, Steve thought, based on the slight red coloring Billy’s cheeks, that he kinda liked feeling looked after. 

Steve slipped out of the house after dinner, after saying his goodbyes to everyone, and giving Maisy extra kisses. 

The night was warm, and he took the bus back to his apartment. 

There were still dishes in the sink from breakfast, and he washed them carefully before collecting his things for work. 

The club was never very busy on Wednesday nights, and it was pretty empty right now, at only half past eight. It would get a little more crowded through the night, but it would mostly be regulars. 

There was a group of douchey-looking guys right at the front, yelling and jeering at Carol while she was dancing. 

Steve kept his eye on them, trying to decide if they were the usual kind of drunk and rowdy, or something a little more dangerous. 

They appeared to be tipping well, and only one had tried to touch her. But a sharp slap away from Carol and a warning look from the bouncer next to the stage was enough to make the guy back off. 

It was the same as every Wednesday, Carol, then Tina, then Steve, then Carol, then Tina, then Steve. They were the only dancers working tonight, the only dancers desperate enough to need a mid-week cash boost. 

Steve wandered the audience during the girls’ sets, getting a couple of private dance requests from some regulars. 

Tina was just taking the stage as one of the guys beckoned him over with one lazy finger. 

Steve fought against the eyeroll, and slapped on a smile as he made his way over. He swayed his hips on the way, shooting Tina a wink. 

“Dollface,” the guy started as soon as Steve was close enough. “I think you can help us settle a bet.”

Steve only raised an eyebrow, sitting in his hip and crossing his arms. Guys like these usually only wanted to hear themselves talk. 

“We’re having a debate. See, my friend here ,” he gestured to the guy on his right, “says that you shouldn’t be working here. That you’re a guy.” The friend in question was staring Steve down. Steve didn’t make eye contact. “But the rest of us, we think you’re a girl. How much for you to drop those little panties and prove us right?”

His smile was slimy, and Steve wanted to kick the guy in the shins and walk away. Walk all the way back to Scott and Benny’s, where is baby is waiting for him, and where Billy wouldn’t fucking stoop so low to ask him a question like that, to reduce him to nothing but what’s between his legs. 

But this was all part of the game. 

He smiled coyly. 

“Once I’m on that stage, you can look all you want. But, if any of you want to touch,” he trailed off, glancing towards the curtained off private area, the rooms reserved for lap dances. “It’ll cost.”

A hundred dollar bill was shoved in his face, the one that beckoned him over standing eagerly to follow Steve. 

Steve took him by the tie, walking backwards towards the rooms. 

Steve pushed the guy into a leather chair, tugging the curtain closed behind him. 

He straddled his lap.

“What’s your name?”

“Kevin,” the guy breathed.

“Well, Kevin, ” Steve smiled. “I’m Bambi.”

He danced slowly, following the rhythm of the moody track that Tina was using onstage. 

Kevin’s hands found his hips. 

Steve took off his bra. 

“God, Jacob might be right. You’ve barely got any tits.” He reached up, sliding his palm up Steve’s body to feel his tits, but Steve stopped him.

“ One hundred doesn’t get you to second base.”

Kevin panted slightly, staring up at Steve. 

“How much? How much to touch you?”

He seemed, almost, in awe of Steve. And he’d be lying if he were to say the attention wasn’t getting to him a little bit. 

“Five hundred, and you can touch me wherever you want.”

It was a steep price, but Kevin had given him a hundred, no questions asked, just for the opportunity of a lap dance. 

And the way he immediately yanked his wallet out, he was good for it. 

He handed Steve a wad of twenties and fifties, and Steve made a real show of counting it out. 

Five hundred, all there. 

“Okay, baby. I’m all yours.” Steve smiled down at him as Kevin's hands immediately found his chest, feeling the slight curve of his breasts, his thumbs flicking over Steve’s nipples. 

And Steve had to hold back a laugh, because this is far from the first time he’s been asked this question: 

“Are you putting yourself through school? Is that why you’re doing this?”

He doesn’t know if these types of men just like the fantasy of it, some down-on-their-luck, nineteen to twenty year-old stripper, who underneath is all, is smart, and good, and just trying to get a little further in this world. 

Or if it's all part of the fantasy. 

“Yeah. University is so damn expensive,” he played along while Kevin started licking and kissing at his neck. “And my parents won’t help.”

Kevin’s hands slid down Steve’s back, his thumbs pressing underneath the waistband of his thong. 

“Take these off, Bambi. Let me see you.”

Steve stood back up, turning his back to Kevin, panting slightly on the chair. 

He slid the panties down his legs, bending over to step out of them. 

He turned slowly, standing with his chin high. 

“So you are a girl.”

No. But he knows how to play the game. 

“For you, Honey, I’ll be anything.”

He swayed his body to the music still thrumming through the club. 

He turned around, shaking his ass a little bit. 

He gasped when Kevin wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back to sit on his lap. 

One arm stayed loosely around his waist, and the other trailed down, fingers sliding over his pussy.

“That five hundred mean I can touch you here?”

Steve’s done a lot more for a lot less. 

But he had this guy. Had him wrapped around his little finger. 

“I bet you another hundred you can’t make me cum.”

Two fingers slid inside him almost immediately. 

“So, if you cum, I owe you one hundred more dollars? That doesn’t seem very fair.”

He didn’t seem to mind, if the way he was fingering Steve was anything to go by. He wasn’t all that great, sliding his fingers in and out, curling them occasionally, like he knew what he was doing. He was completely ignoring Steve’s cock, and hadn’t even come close to his g-spot. 

“No, but I could always make it up to you.”

“Yeah? You any good with that mouth, Bambi?”

“It’s gotten me this far.”

“You’re trying to wring me dry. You’re gonna charge me extra to swallow, or some shit.”

“Sorry, but tuition for next semester is due. Oh baby, just like that.”

He arched his back, tensing his muscles, and squeezing tight around the clumsy fingers inside of him. 

And The Oscar for best faked orgasm goes to: Steve Harrington. 

Kevin pulled his fingers out, and Steve could practically feel the smug look behind him. 

More cash was shoved into his hand. 

“There. This makes it an even thousand. Now please , Bambi. Suck my cock.”

There were condoms stashed in the small chest of doors along the back wall. They weren’t expected to have sex with the customers, but sometimes, things happen. 

He got on his knees in front of Kevin, pulling his dick out of his pants. 

He rolled the condom on with his mouth, a trick he’s perfected since his last STI scare. 

He was good at blowjobs, and he fucking knew it. He knew when to suck, when to lick, when to suck and fondle at the balls, and when to flutter his eyelashes up at the customer with an it’s too big look in his eyes. 

Before long, he had Kevin spilling into the condom, and he pulled up, letting a little drool run down his chin. 

One hand pet through his hair.

“Thanks, Bambi.”

“Anytime, Baby.” He tucked his panties into Kevin’s pocket with a wink. “Stay for my set?”

“After that , I may just say forever.”

The words made Steve’s face heat up a little, despite being said by a sleazy beta who just gave him a grand for a faked orgasm and a two-minute blowjob. 

Steve left Kevin behind, walking down the dark hallway back to the dressing room. He shoved the cash into his bag, tucking it in one of his extra boots buried at the bottom. He touched up his makeup, and got into a new outfit. 

He should see if he could get Kevin to take him to a motel for the night. He seemed the type to pay for anything. And even if he wasn’t very good in the sack, at least he was fairly respectful. 

He took the stage after Tina, grinning at the crowd. Kevin was cheering for him, throwing one and five dollar bills onto the stage. 

His friend, the one who insisted Steve was a guy (whatever that means) was staring at Steve, but his expression was different from earlier. He seemed more, curious. Steve has no doubt in his mind that Kevin had returned to his group, and immediately told them everything he could about Steve’s body. 

His first set was always a slower one, more sensual. He liked to tease a bit more, make them stay for his second set. He worked the crowd a little bit more than usual, spending a good portion of time in front of Kevin and his friends. 

He even got off the stage to suck on Kevin’s fingers, the ones that had been inside of him earlier. 

He acted like he could taste himself on them, closing his eyes and humming to himself. 

Carol rolled her eyes at him from the bar, where a guy was doing a body shot off her. 

When his time was up, he left the stage, one of the bouncers picking up all of his tips for him, dropping them off to Steve in the dressing room with a smile. 

He cleaned up his makeup, put on another tacky outfit, and did it all again. 

Kevin and his friends left almost exactly when Steve’s second set was finished. 

He was a little disappointed, hoping to wring some more cash out of Kevin, but he’d already made more in just the one night than he usually does. 

He changed, dropping off the cut of his earnings he owed to the club in the safe in the owner’s office. 

One of the new barbacks was outside when Steve opened the alleyway door, taking a drag off a cigarette. He offered it to Steve. Steve shook his head. 

“Nah, it was hard enough quitting the first time.”

“Yeah, I keep forgettin’ you’ve got a baby. Remind me, how old again?”

“Five. But she’ll be six in a few months.”

The barback put out his cigarette against the wall of the alley, and Steve realized he couldn’t remember his name. 

“Well, that’s nice. Someone to go home to.” The barback smiled at him, and Steve couldn’t tell if he was getting hit on or not.

“Yeah, it is nice. Speaking of,” he pointed lamely over his shoulder. “I should be getting on home to her.”

“Yeah.” The barback looked at him for an odd moment. “You have a good night.”

Steve shook his head. He’d have to ask Tina and Carol what they thought of the new guys. 

“Steve Harrington.” 

Steve turned quickly to see one of the guys from the club. The one that had insisted he was a guy. Jacob, he thinks. 

He was leaned up against the front wall of the club, his arms crossed over his chest. He was staring intently at Steve. 

And Steve really didn’t like the way he was looking at him. 

“I knew it was you. I mean, you look a lot different from the pictures I’ve seen. Older, skinnier.” His eyes flicked over Steve’s body. “But still pretty.”

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” He was not feeling good about this interaction. 

Jacob raised an eyebrow. 

“I work for Harrington Inc.”

Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach. 

“What?” His hands were shaking. “And my dad, he, he sent you , or something.”

Jacob smiled.

“No. This is a coincidence. I’m out here for a bachelor party, actually. But I knew I recognized you.” He pushed off the wall, taking a step further. “Your parents still have some family photos up. I saw them at the company Christmas party.”

His dad always hosted the company Christmas party at their house. It was the one time of year they pretended to be a family. 

“He seems to think you’ve been in Chicago, since you ran away.”

“Yeah? Well I never ran away from shit. He kicked me out,” Steve spat.

Jacob’s face remained indifferent. 

“Whatever. Just, thought it’s interesting. The big boss’s son, whoring himself out in L.A.”

“Tell him. See if I give a shit.” Steve turned on his heel. He really didn’t give a shit. His parents hadn’t given a fuck about him since long before they kicked him out. He’s an adult. It doesn’t matter what he does with his life. 

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve kept walking.

-

Billy was just barely dozing when the front door pushed open quietly. 

It must be early morning, soft light filling the living room. Steve tiptoed quietly into the house, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

He must’ve been at the apartment before, his hair was a little damp, and he was in different clothes than when he had left the night before.

He looked, if possible, even more tired than usual.

“Hey,” Billy whispered. Steve jumped.

“Shit! I thought you were asleep,” he whispered back. 

He put his bag down in the threshold of the living room, sitting on the edge of the pull-out couch Billy was sleeping on. 

“How was work?” Billy rubbed his eyes. He’d slept like shit. Steve hummed. 

“It was…weird. I don’t know. It was good, but this guy was there, he told me he works for my dad. I just wasn’t expecting it. I don’t really like thinking about my dad much.”

Billy stretched his foot to bump against Steve’s leg.

“Me neither.”

Steve smiled at him, and fuck, he’s never seen someone with bags that big under their eyes. 

“Maisy’s in the guest room. You should get some sleep.”

Steve reached out to pat his leg, and, as if on cue, gave a huge yawn. 

“Yeah. I’m outta here. Let them know I made it in safe, if they come out here first.” Steve smiled at him sleepily, standing up slowly, as if his entire body were stiff.

And he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Billy’s cheek, his lips warm against his skin, his breath coming out softly and puffing against Billy’s face. 

“G’night.”

Billy screwed his eyes shut while Steve left, willing himself not to pop a boner right now, in the middle of the living room. He must’ve actually managed to doze off, because the next time he opened his eyes, he could smell coffee, and someone was shaking him gently. 

“Billy,” Scott said, handing him a warm mug. “How are you feeling?”

Billy sat up a little more against the back of the couch. 

“I’m okay. Been, better, been worse.”

Scott nodded, knowingly. 

“Steve told me to let you two know that he made it in. He was pretty late. Or early, I guess.”

“Thanks, Ben just took Maisy for school, and Steve’s still asleep. I didn’t know what time you worked today, so I thought I’d go ahead and wake you up. It’s just about eight.”

Billy sipped his coffee. 

It was good . Like better than he’d ever really had before. Not that the diner coffee was bad, per say, but clearly Benny stocked his house with expensive shit. 

“Thanks. And thank you for everything you did for me yesterday. It’s, really amazing to know that I have you, and Benny.” And Steve. Of course, Steve.

“Billy, you are always welcome here. Even if relapse is part of your journey, you are still always welcome here."

The thing about Scott, is that he clearly doesn’t say shit unless he means it. 

“Keep me posted today. Let me know what you need. There are a few meetings I know about through the valley, too, so whenever you feel a need, please call.”

“My lunch break is at one, I’d like to go sooner, rather than later.”

“Of course! I can meet you at the garage. Jim may want to come too.”

Billy doubts Hopper’s eyes will be leaving Billy’s back for the next while, anyway. Not that he doesn’t trust Billy, he just knows that a junkie’s a junkie’s a junkie. Last time was a little too close for anyone’s comfort, and coming face to face with anything might be enough to send Billy into a tailspin that he can’t control. 

There was the sudden sound of footsteps racing down the hall, and Steve, looking delirious and disheveled, burst into the kitchen. 

“I’m fucking late ,” he croaked, his eyes wild. “Where’s Maisy? She’s late for school, and I should’ve been awake an hour ago. I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.” He was borderline hysterical, looking all around the kitchen, like maybe his kid was hiding under the table. 

Scott simply raised his own coffee mug, offering it to Steve.

“I was just telling Billy, Ben took Maisy to school. He’s probably almost home by now.”

Steve chugged the coffee, that wild look still in his eye.

“I need to go! Scott, can I get a ride to the diner? I should’ve been there-fuck! What time is it?”

“It’s ten past eight. And your boss let me know that under no circumstances, are you to come in to work today.” Scott gave Steve what was almost a stern look, but he winked at him to soften it.

Steve sighed heavily, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You know I need to go in, I need-”

“You need sleep . You didn’t get back here until six in the morning, and I know you didn’t sleep before then. You are going back to bed.”

Steve tugged at his hair, mussing it up even more, some of it standing straight up. He huffed, frustrated.

“I’m fine! I’ll sleep tonight.”

Scott took a deep breath, and it’s the closest Billy has ever seen the man close to pissed off. 

“Billy, would you mind excusing us for a moment, I need to talk to Steve.” He was still polite as all hell. 

Billy shook a leg and got right out of that living room. 

He couldn’t hear much, just Scott’s calm tone, Steve’s responses sounding more and more hysterical each time. 

Something was rising, and Billy was locked in the bathroom using a spare toothbrush he had been given the night before, running the faucet like California wasn’t in a major drought so that he wouldn’t be tempted to eavesdrop. 

And then the shoe dropped, and Steve blew up. 

Yelling had never been something that made Billy feel good . 

His dad was always screaming for one reason or another, and later the prison guards and wardens would do nothing but shout commands and belittle Billy and the other inmates. 

So, hearing men yelling wasn’t something he liked. 

He liked it even less hearing Steve shouting. Because Steve and yelling just didn’t fit right to him. He’d never heard him raise his voice above anything that could be considered “inside volume.” The loudest he ever got was when he laughed. 

But now he was shouting at Scott, and Billy was trying so so hard to ignore it. 

“I don’t give a fuck! I never even should have told you that! Go to the doctor . With what fucking money? Sorry, I’m a little too focused on making sure my daughter has food to fucking eat right now! You’re not a parent! You don’t know what it’s like to put someone before yourself every goddamn day!”

Silence. 

Billy could feel the tension all the way in the bathroom. He tried to open the door as quietly as possible. 

Scott’s voice sounded raw. 

“You can sleep here, or I could take you home if you’d like.” His words were clipped, and Billy knew that Steve had stepped over a big, fat, red line. 

“I’ll walk. Thanks for dinner.” He sounded flippant, and just downright mean . 

Billy only emerged from his bathroom sanctuary after he heard the guest room door slam. 

He crept into the kitchen. 

He could only see Scott’s back, but he could tell he was tense, he had a white-knuckled grip on the kitchen counter before him, and he sniffed heavily. 

“Um, thank you. For yesterday. And for everything. And, uh, thank Benny for me, too.”

Scott took a deep breath and turned around, giving Billy a half-assed smile. 

“Of course. You’re always welcome here. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Yes. I’ll be at the garage. Although I can go with Hopper, if you need-”

Scott cut him off quickly.

“No, that’s okay. I think I could do with a meeting as well.”

The walk back to the apartment complex was tense and awkward. 

Steve was still clearly seething with rage, walking faster than was usual for him, his head bent down and his hands curled into fists in his pockets. 

Billy didn’t dare speak. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

He didn’t know what the fight was about, and to be quite honest, he feels a little bit like he might be on Scott’s side. 

But finally, they were walking side by side along a quiet street, and Billy couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine . So super good. Maybe you should ask him what he thinks, though, because he just loves to tell everyone else about how I’m feeling, and how I’m not taking care of myself.”

Billy was quiet again. 

Because, truth be told, he silently agreed with Scott that Steve wasn’t really taking care of himself. 

He barely sleeps, and he constantly looks exhausted, and he looks so much thinner than any of the photos hanging in his apartment. 

He doesn’t look well. 

But, Billy is a coward, and hates when people yell, and he doesn’t want to bring up that Scott may have a point.

“Are you going to sleep when you get home?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I? I’ve been fucking grounded and sent to my room. He told me, he said that if I went to work today, Benny wouldn’t pay me! He said, I can work or not work, I’m not making any money, so I may as well just go home.” Steve huffed. “I told him I’d fucking sue.”

Billy knew it was all a ruse. 

If Steve really did show up to the diner, Benny and Scott would absolutely pay him for his time. 

They’d just rather he actually took care of himself. 

“They do shit like that, and then Scott is all why don’t you take a day off and go to the doctor , and, like, I can’t! I don’t have insurance, and any fucking specialist is gonna cost more than what I make in a month at that shithole diner! I’m fine. In fact, it’s a good thing I haven’t had a heat in so long, because if I was taking off work for something so fucking stupid , I’d have my child taken away from me. He just doesn’t get it!”

Steve was ranting, more and more flowing out with every step. 

And granted, Billy didn’t know much about omega bodies and how they functioned, he wouldn’t’ve paid attention in Sex Ed even if his school did have it, but he knows that that is probably not a good sign. 

“He’s never had kids. He fucking can’t , and he acts all high and mighty, like he knows more than I do. One of us is actually a parent and is actually dealing with raising a child. He just likes to live out some fantasy that I’m his kid, and uses it as an excuse to tell me how to live my goddamn life. It’s all Steve, you should go back to high school or Steve, don’t fuck your landlord for a deal on rent, move in with us . Okay, so you can get farther up my ass? So you can judge every decision I’ve ever made?”

Billy had never truly appreciated how long Steve’s legs are. He was panting, nearly jogging to keep up with Steve’s brisk, angry pace. 

Steve couldn’t be stopped, his voice cracking with fury. 

“He thinks he knows everything . He thinks he knows what it’s like to have a difficult life because he fucked up and he ruined his own goddamn life. I may be a hooker, but at least I’m not a junkie!”

Billy’s heart stopped nearly as fast as Steve did. 

His head was swimming. 

He can take Steve being mad at Scott. In all fairness, he does believe that Scott probably has Steve’s best interest in his heart. 

And Steve’s just mad. He’s pissed off and isn’t thinking clearly. 

That’s what Billy kept telling himself as Steve turned around, tears shining in his eyes. 

“Billy, I didn’t mean it. That’s not what I, I don’t think that. I don’t think that about him, I don’t think that about you .”

And then Steve was collapsing into him, his arms flung around Billy’s neck, and Billy was absolutely dazed as Steve sobbed into his shoulder, apologizing with each shaking breath. 

The traffic slowly picked up on the street next to them, and the L.A. morning fog was beginning to burn off with the heart of the risen sun. 

They stood on the sidewalk for Billy doesn’t know how long. 

His heart felt beyond broken from the past few days. 

He knows Steve didn’t mean it. 

He knows that really, Steve understands that he’s not just a junkie. He’s not just an addict. 

But Billy’s heard so many times, from so many different people, that he’s nothing more. 

That he’s stupid. That he’s trash. That he made bad choices and deserves everything he’s ever got. 

It’s hard not to believe it. 

He also knows that Steve feels the same. 

He’s heard nothing but judgment and hatred, and it settles down in his gut and it explodes. It explodes when you don’t want it to, and suddenly you’re spitting venom at the only people that care, and pushing them away because it’s easier than admitting that you hate yourself. That you hate what you’ve become. 

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Billy pet through Steve’s hair, soft from his shower last night. This morning. 

“That was fucked up,” Steve choked on his sobs, his breath heaving in his chest. “I don’t think that.”

“I know.”

“I’m such, I’m such a piece of shit.” Steve pulled back, his face shining with tears and snot. He looked at Billy intensely. “Billy, I don’t think that. About him, or about you. You both are, you’re so much better . So much more than that. I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. And I forgive you, it’s fine.”

It wasn’t, but it is. 

Billy knows that Steve didn’t mean it. 

He’s running on fumes and he’s angry and it’s the easiest blow to make, even if it is a low one. 

But Steve has never before made him feel like his choices define who he is. 

This is nothing but tired insecurity.

Steve kept a hold of Billy’s hand while they walked. 

It took him the rest of the way back to the apartment complex to stop crying. 

His face was still red, and his eyes were still puffy and sad, but at least his face was dry when they reached their doors.

“Get some sleep, yeah?” 

Steve nodded miserably. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I forgave you the first hundred times. Just, do me a favor. When you wake up from that nap you’re gonna take, call Scott. Tell him you’re sorry.”

“I will.”

Billy took a deep breath. He didn’t wanna push too hard, but he’s never been known to be gentle. 

“And maybe, just consider going to the doctor. Not now, not today. But some time? Maisy needs you to be okay.” I need you to be okay .

Another sad nod. 

Billy pulled him into a final hug. 

He kissed Steve’s cheek this time, returning the soft gesture from this morning. 

It’s not even nine o’clock, and Billy already feels like he’s lived at least a few days so far as he watches Steve wrestle with the front door, the hinges protesting loudly when he finally got it open. Billy gave him one last smile before fighting with his own front door, and getting ready for the day.

-

Steve slept for five hours and a half hours. 

He woke up feeling groggy and confused, a migraine settle behind his eyes. 

The fight with Scott had been bad. Like, really bad . 

Steve felt like shit. 

He knew all of the buttons to push to get Scott to react. He wanted him to react. He wanted him to yell at Steve and call him stupid and tell him to get his act together. 

Because that’s what dads do. 

So when Scott came at him with his effortless calm, when he told him I’m worried about you. I think you should see a doctor. You haven’t been well for a long time . 

He snapped. 

And it all came pouring out of him. 

He knows that Scott is insecure about not having kids. He can’t, biologically, but he’s always wanted them. And because of his past issues, he and Benny have been denied adoption several times. 

Steve didn’t bother getting out of bed as he called Scott. 

He didn’t answer, and although Steve should’ve expected it, it still hurt. 

You’ve reached the voicemail of Scott Clarke. Please leave your name and number in your message, and I’ll get back to you.

“Scott, I’m. I’m so sorry.” Steve had to blink back more tears. His head pounded. “You can call me when you get the chance, or not. It’s okay. I just, I’m sorry. What I said was beyond fucked up. It was so mean, and Scott I’m sorry. I know you care about me. I know you want me to be okay. I just, Scott.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “Everything’s been so fucked lately, and I don’t know what to do. I keep pretending it’s okay, and it’s not. Nothing’s okay right now. I’ve been pretending that it is. I’m sorry. Scott, I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what else I can say.” He swallowed thickly. “Please call me back. Whenever you can. There’s a lot we need to talk about.” He hung up the phone, placing it on the bed next to him as he stared at the ceiling. 

He needs to pick up Maisy soon. 

He took the long way, kicking rocks down the sidewalk as he went. 

Scott was right, it wasn’t fair to Maisy if he let himself waste away. He’s been losing so much weight recently, and he hasn’t even dared mention to anyone the alarming chunks of hair that have been clogging up the shower drain. It all spells bad news, and he’s been running from it as fast as he can. 

He crossed the street to walk down the shady side. 

There were a few cafes dotted along the street, some weak attempts at gentrification. Only one was open, and he decided to grab himself a treat. 

Nothing crazy. Black coffee and a macaron to share with Maisy. 

Even his long nap hadn’t shaken off the exhaustion from the day before. He smiled weakly at the gaggle of parents waiting for their kids in front of the main entrance of the school, sipping his coffee and willing himself to put on a goddamn happy face for his baby. 

“Steve!” 

He forced a smile on his face, a small group of three moms waving him over. 

“We missed you at the parents’ meeting last night,” one of the moms, Christina, said to him, her smile huge and fake. 

“Oh, well. I work nights on Wednesdays.” 

She laughed like he had said a joke. 

“You missed an important one! We all signed up for Bake Sale duties. It’s on Monday.”

Steve felt like he was in a waking nightmare. 

He had completely forgotten that he had signed up to be on the bake sale team at the beginning of the year. All parents were required to sign up for something, and at the time, bake sale had seemed like a lot less work than class holiday party committee. 

“Oh, um. What jobs are left?”

“Well, the only thing left is to manage the sale itself.”

Nope. This was the nightmare.

“I’m sorry, Chris. I work on Mondays.”

She tittered at him. 

“I know, it’s just that, we all do. Can’t you get another waiter to cover for you? It’s to raise money for the kids’ zoo field trip.” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Or, talk to your husband. I haven’t seen Maisy’s other father sign up for anything all year.”

Steve felt like he could vomit all over this bitch. 

Out of shame or pure hatred, he didn’t know which. 

He dropped his hand.

“I’m a single parent,” he grunted at her. She fucking knows he’s a single parent. He’s one of two single parents in the entire class. “I’ll try to get Monday covered.”

She smiled wide at him. He wanted to headbutt her right in the nose.

“Perfect! So glad we could figure this out.” She reached out to touch his shoulder, and he didn’t even hide the way he backed out of her reach. She narrowed her eyes slightly at him. 

“Anything else?” 

“Yes, actually. You’ll need to check in with the office to get the cash box, and there should be a little bit of money in there to make change. I’ll email you the pricing sheet on Monday morning.” He nodded, jaw clenched. “And you’ll need to record every sale, what was bought, how much was paid, how much change given. You’ll know how to do that, I’m sure it’s the same as that sweet little restaurant you work at.” His blood was simmering at a low heat. “We’ll be cross-referencing that with the totals from the day.”

“Yeah. I’ll make sure not to steal any money from children. Are we done?” C’mon, Maisy. Get outside. Give Steve an excuse to turn his back on this woman. 

“Well, no , because any leftover treats need to be picked up at the end of the day by the person who brought them. In years prior, we’ve had problems with parents taking them home, or giving them out for free, when it’s not fair to the kids that paid for something.”

“So, what, I have to stay until the end of the day?”

“Is that a problem?”

Fuck yes , it’s a problem.

“Christina, I need to work. Maisy and I are living paycheck to paycheck right now. I can’t take an entire day off.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but this is what you signed up for. If you had come to the meeting last night-”

“ Once again , I was working.” He tried to keep his voice level, to not let his volume rise. To choke down the insults and swear words he wanted to scream at the woman who thinks she’s so much better than him. “And dealing with a family emergency throughout the day. The parent meeting wasn’t exactly a priority last night.”

Her fake smile had finally dropped, and she glared at Steve.

“Does your daughter know she isn’t a priority?”

Steve’s hands were shaking. His entire body felt empty. 

He blinked angry tears out of his eyes, curling his hands into fists. The white bag with the cookie inside crumpled loudly. 

“You have no idea what I do for my daughter. She is my only priority. You don’t know what my life is like, what I put up with to keep her safe, and happy. Please take yourself off that high horse, and go fuck yourself. I’ll be here on Monday, but you better never speak to me again.”

She glowered at him. 

“What makes you think you can say that to me?”

“The fact that you have done nothing but judge me! You don’t know the first thing about me, or my life, or what I do for Maisy. You think the fact that I’m broke means I’m a piece of shit. This is a public school! How many of these kids come from low-income families? Maisy is far from the only kid on the free lunch program.”

“I never said anything about your economic status.”

He stared at her.

“You didn’t need to. I can tell how little you think of me. Every time you tell me that your husband is a paralegal, every time you act like being a waiter is a stupid job. Telling me that my child isn’t my priority because last night I went to work instead of coming to a bake sale planning meeting.”

“ Excuse me for thinking you were responsible enough to use those child support checks towards supporting your child .” Another fake smile spread across her face. “ Oh , I’m sorry. I guess you don’t get child support if you don’t even know who the father is.”

It’s a miracle he didn’t slap her.

"I’m her father ,” he said through gritted teeth. 

The main door opened, and Maisy’s class began spilling through the doors, looking for their parents. Maisy beamed at him, and skipped over, sliding her hand into his.

“Daddy!”

He smiled back at her, trying to gently pull her away from Bitch Christina.

“Hi, Pumpkin. Did you have a good day?” He spun her around, trying to quickly get her outta there. 

“Yeah! I made a card for Billy. To help him get better.” She was swinging off his hand, excitement palpable in the air. 

It was incredible how calming it was, just to see her happy. 

“That’s so sweet, Maise. He’ll love it.”

Maybe Steve should make his own card. And I'm sorry for being a shitty person and a shitty friend. I’m sorry for being another voice in your head calling you that awful word and reducing you to that part of your life card.

He was almost home free, almost to the sidewalk with his girl when-

“Steve!” Christina called out. She had her son’s hand clutched in hers. It was that mean kid Alex. The one who told Maisy that only mommies can have babies, and told her it’s weird she doesn’t have a mommy, as if it’s any of his goddamn business. Steve’s not sure why he didn’t put it together that Bitch Christina would raise such an asshole of a spawn. She was stomping towards them, yanking her son forward. “Do you know what my son just told me?”

She was red in the face.

“Haven’t got a clue.” This had to be delicate. He can’t lose his mind in front of Maisy. 

“He told me that your kid got him into recess time-out!”

Steve raised his eyebrows down at Maisy. He made sure to keep his face neutral.

But, clearly Christina's attitude had scared Maisy, and her lip wobbled.

“You said that if Alex was mean, I should tell Ms. Katie!”

Steve bent down to Maisy’s level. 

“I did say that. Is that what happened?”

She nodded. Christina spluttered.

“Alex said his daddy told him not to talk to me, because my daddy is gross, and bad, and,” there were tears shining in her eyes. “Daddy, he was being so mean !”

Steve pulled Maisy into a hug, glaring up at Christina. He was seeing fucking red. 

He scooped her up, letting him hide her face in his shoulder. 

“Please, make sure your child never speaks to mine again. I’ll be speaking to the school about what Alex has been putting Maisy through.”

He turned on his heel, his entire body shaking with rage. 

Maisy was crying harder.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!”

“Shh, Baby. You did the right thing talking to your teacher. I’m not upset with you.”

“Okay.” She sounded miserable. “Ms. Katie sent you a note in my backpack.”

“Thanks, Pumpkin. I’ll read it when we get home.” One of her hands tangled in the longer hair hanging over the back of his neck. He patted her back. 

“Is Billy gonna be home?”

“I don’t know. We can knock on his door and see.”

She sniffed. Her back was trembling.

“I want you to be home tonight.” 

Steve’s stomach flopped over sadly.

He didn’t work Thursday nights. He had been maybe considering asking for an extra night at the club, trying to make up for the (unfortunately, necessary) day off he took today. 

“I’ll stay home, Maise. I’ll be home all night.”

“Okay. I don’t like it when you’re gone.”

Now it was time for Steve’s heart to follow the path of his stomach, flopping down like it was ready to give up.

“I don’t either. I wish you and I could stay home and be together all the time. But, unfortunately, we both have important things to do all day. I’ve gotta make sure we have a home, and you gotta make sure you’re learning as much as you can fit in that giant smart brain of yours.” He kissed her cheek. “But tonight, can just be you and me.”

They ended up making dinner together, throwing together some easy sandwiches. Tossing snacks in a bag, and heading to the nearest (nicest) park. 

It was a thirty-minute bus ride away, and Steve helped Maisy with her weekly homework packet on the way, helping her add how many apples were on the page, or color the snakes with the correct repeating patterns. 

She seemed better, her smile going back to its typical brightness. 

Steve hadn’t read the note from her teacher yet. He wanted to savor this evening. 

Because that douchebag child’s douchebag dad knew about Steve. He knew what Steve’s second job was. 

Hell, he had probably seen his set. 

And that’s whatever. He knows that he couldn’t keep it a secret from every parent forever. 

But that douchebag had something to his kid, and that kid douchebag had something to his kid. To his Maisy. 

And it’s fucking humiliating to think about Maisy knowing what he does. 

He hoped it’d be something he needed to do for the first part of her life. 

To be honest, he thought he’d be done with it by now. 

But he couldn’t survive and take care of Maisy on the diner salary, no matter how much Benny tried to quietly raise his wage. 

He knows that really, there’s no shame in sex work. He used to really enjoy it, for fuck’s sake. Sometimes, he has those moments. Where he gets a good pay out, or someone looks at him like he’s the most beautiful person they’ve ever seen, and he remembers that feeling. 

But then, he thinks about his daughter growing up. Of realizing that he let people fuck him to buy her school supplies. To keep a roof over her head. To keep her healthy and fed. 

He just hopes that when she’s old enough, she understands that he was desperate. He hopes she doesn’t agree with everyone around them, everyone that thinks he’s disgusting, or a bad person. 

They laid out a blanket on the soft grass, eating their picnic together. They watched people go by on bicycles and roller skates. Maisy befriended an excitable dog. They played tag together, and laid on the blanket next to one another, Steve reading a library book out loud to Maisy. 

“Daddy,” she interrupted. “I don’t like Alex.” 

Steve turned on his side to face her, placing his hand on her tummy. 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to like everyone.”

“Why did his daddy tell him those mean things?”

She was gazing over at him. She’s so beautiful. 

Steve sighed.

“Maisy, our family is,” he paused. “Different. From other families.”

“I know.”

“And that’s okay! It’s okay that our family is different. Because, all a family needs to be a family, is to love each other, right?” She nodded. “Okay, well, some people think that to be a family, you need all this other stuff. You need a mommy, and a daddy, and the mommy and daddy have special jobs that only they can do, and that they’re not good mommies or daddies if they aren’t like other mommies and daddies. Does that make sense?”

She nodded again. 

“But I think you’re a good daddy.”

“And that’s all that matters to me. If you think I’m a good daddy, then that makes me happy. Because I want to be the best daddy for you.” He ran his fingers through the end of her long hair. “It’s my favorite thing ever, being your daddy.”

She smiled at him, but her face fell.

“Why did Alex’s daddy say you were gross?”

Steve focused on the soft brown hair curling through his fingers.

“I don’t know, Maise. There could be a few reasons he thinks that.”

“Why?” she said, borderline whining.

“Like I said, I’m different from most daddies. My body is different. That’s how you were able to grow in my tummy. Most babies grow in mommy tummies.”

“But, why can’t babies come from daddies, too?”

“They do, just only sometimes. You’re the only one in your class that came from a daddy, and not a mommy. Some people think that only girls should grow babies. That if a boy has a baby, like me, that's a bad thing.”

“Why?”

“I really don’t know, Pumpkin.” Honestly, he didn’t. As long as a baby is healthy, and taken care of, why does it fucking matter if it’s birthing parent is a man or a woman?

It has something to do with how uncommon male omegas are, and how female omegas, betas, and even some alphas are usually the only people able to carry healthy babies. 

But Steve carried a baby to full term. He nursed her, and takes care of her all day, every day. 

So what does it fucking matter.

Maisy was looking at the sky, thinking hard about something. 

Steve brushed her hair out of her face.

“I think we should head home soon. It’s getting late.” 

Maisy snuggled closer to Steve on the blanket. 

“Can we watch a movie tonight?”

“Sure, Baby. we can watch a movie.”

Steve had an absolutely ancient portable DVD player stowed in the bedroom with a small collection of DVDs. They didn’t have movie nights at home very often, but it was a nice way to spend time together. Especially when Steve was too exhausted to play.

Maisy fell asleep on the bus ride back, and Steve was fighting to keep his eyes open as well, not wanting to miss their stop. They walked home in silence, Maisy clearly too sleepy to carry a real conversation. 

Steve made sure she brushed her teeth when they got home, and they settled in bed with the DVD player between them, The Aristocats beginning to play. 

Maisy fell asleep quickly, but Steve kept the movie playing. It wasn’t often he got to relax like this. Nothing to do but be with his baby. 

His thoughts kept wandering to Billy, to the silence in the next door apartment that Steve wasn’t sure how to read into. 

It wasn’t until nearly nine o’clock that there was the jangling of keys, the squeaking of a door, and a soft knock on Steve’s front door. 

-

It was the second time in a week that Billy had found himself sitting at a large dining room table, with a family that wasn’t his shitty one, eating dinner like he belonged there. 

Hopper really hadn’t given Billy a choice in the matter. 

He’d just said I’ll drive you home tonight, kid , and when they started going the opposite way down the street, he had merely winked at Billy and said I meant I’ll drive you home after dinner .

He and Joyce lived in a nice home on the edge of the suburbs. 

It was a little bigger in the house Billy had grown up in, but it had a nice yard that was full of flowers and vegetables, and an extremely cozy looking living room. 

Hopper and Joyce had three kids; two boys from Joyce’s previous marriage, and a girl from Hopper’s. But they existed like they had always been blood. 

The two youngest, Billy would’ve sworn they were twins. He sat between them, Will and Elle, and he fucking missed his sister. Elle was a year younger than Max, but with just as much personality. Just as much fire and mischief in her eyes. 

Will was quiet, but he lit up when his mother proudly pointed out the framed paintings on the walls, telling Billy about the art degree he was earning at a school in San Francisco. How he was home visiting for the weekend.

Jonathan was Billy’s age, and he was as quiet as his younger brother, but he was just as kind as the rest of his family. He told Billy, in a soft voice, about how he was saving up for college. NYU. 

He worked at the diner a few blocks from the garage, maybe Billy knows it? Benny’s?

Billy swallowed hard. 

“Yeah. My friend, my neighbor works there. Steve.”

Something dawned across Jonathan’s face, and he smiled at Billy, like they were sharing a joke. 

“He’s talked about you. I didn’t realize that you were the same Billy.”

He’s talked about you .

Billy tried to help Jonathan, Will, and Elle with the dishes after dinner, but Jonathan shooed him away, and Hop caught his eye, jerking his head to the back porch and raising a pack of cigarettes. 

They lit up in silence, and Billy savored the cigarette. He hadn’t bought a new pack yet, and he hadn’t had one all day. 

It flooded him with relief he didn’t know he was missing. 

“We gotta talk about yesterday.” Hopper was so gruff, Billy really didn’t know if he was in trouble or not. “Where did you get it?”

“Found it. In that Toyota I was working on. I opened up the glove box, and it was just fucking. Right there.” He took a long drag off the cigarette. “I really wanted to take it.”

Hopper stared out at the backyard. 

“Did you do any?”

It was a fair question. 

“No. Honest.”

“So, your next drug test will come back clean?”

“As a whistle.”

Hopper finally looked over at him. 

“Good job.” It was the simplest praise, but god, did Billy need it. “It took me relapsing six times to get it right.” He took another drag, looking back out over the yard. “I’m not gonna tell your parole officer. He doesn’t need to know, and you did the right thing.”

“Thanks.”

A pause.

“I have something for you. It was Joyce’s idea, actually. We have this one layin’ around for emergencies. I got a new card in it, and it’s on our plan. We have one of those six line bundles.”

He pulled a phone out of his pocket, putting it on the flat railing next to Billy’s arm.

It was an older generation iPhone, with a new-looking blue case on it. 

A phone. 

He was giving Billy a phone.

“Jesus, I can’t take this.”

Billy felt cold, like he’d just been dunked in a freezing lake. 

“Sure, you can. Yesterday was shit, not being able to get a hold of you. And this has been gatherin’ dust in a drawer. You need one, we’ve got an extra.”

“But, you can’t pay my bill . I mean, thank you, but that’s insane! I’m an adult, I can pay for a phone bill.” Hopper rolled his eyes. “I’m not taking it.”

“Sure you are. It’s already got my number, and Joyce’s. Just in case you need us. I put the garage in, too.”

“Hopper, look, this is so nice , but it’s too much.” He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any of it. 

He doesn’t deserve Hopper’s trust. Max’s forgiveness. Benny’s kindness. Scott’s belief. 

And Steve.

He doesn’t think he will ever deserve Steve’s warmth. His care, his trust, his worry, his happiness. 

Billy has done nothing in his life but lie, and cheat, and steal. 

He’s been in bar fights. He was stabbed in a fight in jail that he started. He stole the only nice jewelry his step mom owned to hawk for drug money. 

He threatened Lucas’s life for no fucking reason. 

Billy is a bad person, through and through. And the way all of these people keep treating him life he’s worth kindness, and affection, and love , well. It’s gonna blow up. 

Soon. 

“I don’t want to hear any more arguments. You take the phone. I’m paying the bill anyway, so either you use the phone, or I’m flushin’ money down the toilet.”

Billy didn’t want to point out that Hopper was flushing money away either way. 

He sighed. 

“Take it out of my paycheck. Please . Whatever my phone line costs, dock it from my pay. I can’t, Hopper you can’t do this for me.”

And maybe it was the way Billy was holding back tears (and a minor breakdown), but Hopper rolled his eyes. 

“Fine. I’ll dock it. But I’m gonna tell your parole officer, because he’ll ask why you’re makin’ less now.”

It was too much. It was too fucking much. 

Billy nearly had an aneurysm arguing with Hopper and Joyce later, insisting he walk home. 

They wanted to give him a ride. 

Billy needed to clear his head. 

Even then, it fucked him up a little bit that they trusted him to walk home on his own, after his near miss the day before. 

They sent him home with an armful of leftovers. 

He walked slowly, stopping for a new pack of cigarettes at the nearest convenience store, trying not to blow through the whole thing in one forty-five minute walk. 

He put his leftovers in the fridge the second he got home, the tupperware boxes looking lonely in the nearly empty space. 

There was a time when Billy’s fridge would’ve been stock-piled with beer like it was going out of style. 

But now he just had a carton of milk, some cheap produce from a stand down the road. Some slices of leftover pizza. 

It was a metaphor for how Billy felt. Weird and kinda empty. With these out of place experiences of love. 

He slipped back out the front door, knocking softly on Steve’s door. 

He was half hoping Steve was asleep. He had looked so bad this morning, like a zombie. 

But he also needs to. Process. 

But Steve opened the door, looking slightly better. 

Still tired, still achingly weary, but there was color in his cheeks, and he looked relaxed and cozy. 

“Billy, I was just thinking about you. Come in.” He gently guided Billy towards the couch, stopping to put an old-looking silver kettle on the stove. “I know it’s lame, but I just need something warm right now.”

He curled on the sofa next to Billy, sitting on his legs like a little perched bird, one arm resting on the back of the couch. 

“Are you okay?”

It finally hit Billy that he hadn’t said a single word since knocking on the front door. 

“I’m okay,” he replied. “Long fucking day.”

“You’re telling me.” Steve sighed. “I apologized to Scott. I just got his voicemail, but I apologized, and said I wanted to talk. I know I was, pretty out of line today. Did you see him? At your meeting?”

“Yeah. He seemed okay. I mean, a bit upset. During his share, he mentioned that he got into an argument with a family member, and he’s really bad at processing when people are upset with him.”

Steve bit his bottom lip. Billy had made sure to slip in how Scott had said Steve was his family.

“I feel awful. He just cares about me. His family was pretty bad to him. He was diagnosed with autism in high school, and he said his dad just kinda snapped. A bit like your dad, I think.” He took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I said all that shit to him. He doesn’t deserve that. I don’t even, I’ve just had such a weird temper lately.” He looked back at Billy. “Did he say anything to you, specifically?”

“Not really. We talked about yesterday a bit, and he encouraged me to share. Everyone was, like, excited for me when I said I got rid of the coke. Like, they fucking clapped for me. It was embarrassing.”

“They’re just proud of you.” Steve smiled softly at him. “I know the feeling.”

Billy kinda felt like he could barf.

He doesn’t know why.

“I, um, I had dinner with Hopper and Joyce. I didn’t know that Jonathan worked with you.”

“Yeah! He’s a nice guy. He’s covered for me a lot when things have gotten weird. Sometimes he’ll take tables for me if they’re being handsy.”

“Handsy?”

Steve waived his hand noncommittally.

“Sometimes people think it’s okay to grope their server.”

“The fuck?”

Steve coughed, and Billy was suddenly aware of how much his scent was starting to rise. Getting thick and angry. 

He tried to calm himself down. 

“That shit happens at the diner?”

“It’s rare, but I mean, it does. Look Billy, I’m used to stuff like that. And I just have Jonathan close the table out for me. It’s fine.” Billy raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I know it’s not fine , but I deal. Benny’s good about not letting people come back in if they’ve done anything like that.

“He chased a guy out of the diner with a Louisville Slugger once. He had been gross the week before, and I ended up, well. I broke his nose. He kept pulling me into his lap and trying to touch me, and I kinda lost it on him. Benny put the fear of God into him, though, so he hasn’t been back.”

“Wait, you, you broke his nose ?” Billy was impressed. He knew Steve was tougher than he seemed, but he didn’t know that applied to being physically tougher than he seemed. 

Steve flushed. 

“Yeah,” he trailed off. “I kinda pushed his head down onto the counter. Really hard. I was pretty pissed off, actually.”

Billy could feel himself grinning, and Steve couldn’t help but give him a small smile back.

“I’m impressed. Sounds like the fucker deserved it.”

“He did.” Steve put his head back down on his arm, still resting over the back of the couch. “But, how was dinner?”

“It was fucking, weird, man. I mean, good, but it’s just. It’s all so weird . You, Maisy, Scott, Benny, Hopper, Joyce. I didn’t know that there were that many nice people in the whole world , let alone in one general area.” He looked at Steve, those big brown eyes watching him carefully. “How do you handle it?”

“Handle what?”

“Care. How do you handle it when people care?”

Steve blinked. 

“I don’t know. Clearly, I’m not very good at it. I mean, I said some pretty fucked up stuff to you and Scott today.”

“But that’s like, that was once. I mean, when we went to their place for dinner, and you just let them care about you. How do you do that?”

Steve chewed on the inside of  his cheek.

“I don’t know. I guess, there aren’t many times when I get to be the one being cared for, you know? So, it’s like I turn off the part of my brain that is always thinking of what I need to do for everyone else. My parents never gave enough of a shit to take care of me, so I guess I had to learn how to take it.”

But that’s just it. Billy can’t learn how to take the care when he doesn’t deserve it. 

He can’t learn how to say thank you and break down his walls when his walls are there for the protection of everyone else.

 “I just, I don’t know how to.” He waved his hands, gesturing to all the undeserved kindness. “Why are- I keep meeting people that are nice to me. That care about me.” He ground his jaw. “I don’t understand.”

Steve hummed. 

“I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, but, I don’t think you do. You, you are so good . You are kind, and caring, and so fucking full of love, and these people that you love, they love you back, because you’re good and lovely and deserve it . I don’t.” The tears were coming. He couldn’t stop them. “I’ve spent my entire life treating people like shit. I’ve done nothing but be angry, and bring everyone down with me. Why- you, and Scott, and Benny, and Hopper, and Joyce, and Max. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that I’m a fucking mess, and one day, I’m gonna explode again, and you will all be caught in the blast.”

His world tipped sideways, and he clutched to Steve, burying his head in his neck. 

Steve was shushing him, running his fingers through Billy’s dirty hair, pressing his hand up and down his back. 

He let Billy cry. 

He held him. 

He didn’t let go until the kettle startled to make a low whistling sound, preceding the high one that would surely wake Maisy up. 

Even then, he brewed two mugs of herbal tea, and pulled Billy back into his chest. 

“You are good,” he kept muttering into Billy’s hair. “You are good.”

Billy shook his head. 

“‘m not. I’m not a good person.” Even now, as Steve was giving him comfort he didn’t deserve, all he could think of was pulling him into a searing kiss. All he could think of was intertwining their lives in a way that could only lead to heartbreak. “I’ve done such, such bad stuff.”

There were hands then on either side of his face, hands that urged him to look up, to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Billy, I know you. You are good . I can just, I can feel it in my bones. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past. Every day, you are kind. Every day, you focus on what you can do right now to be a good person. And you are! You are so good.”

One of Steve’s hands left his cheek to pet through his hair. 

“I’ve done bad things, too. I’ve lied and I’ve stolen, and Billy, I have so many regrets, but inviting you into my life is not one of them. It will never be one of them.”

He stared at Billy, clearly trying to make him understand. 

Billy leaned in. 

He pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. 

He felt Steve’s breath stutter. 

“Billy, we can’t-”

“I know. I’m not, I’m not trying anything. I just, you mean a lot to me, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes were shining in the dark. 

“You mean a lot to me too. And to Maisy.”

Billy swallowed thickly. 

“I’ve never, I mean, I’ve been with people before. A lot of people.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “That sounds, I’m not bragging . None of those were anything- none of those were good. But you, you are something to me. And, we can’t. Not while I’m so early into recovery, and. And I feel like every fucking day I’m walking a tightrope. I know we can’t. But you, you need to know.”

He was rambling. He was hazy and sad and he didn’t know what he was saying. 

He couldn’t read Steve’s face. 

“You need to know that I-” he doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. That I love you ? That I want to be with you ? That I want you in my life forever ? 

“I know. I do. And, I think, me too. But I’m, I’m not at a place where anything can happen, and I know you aren’t either. But,” he wiped at his eyes furiously. Billy decided he really fucking hated seeing Steve cry. “I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“That’s okay.”

“No.” Steve squeezed his eyes closed, he was fighting for his life, trying not to succumb to the sobs threatening to rack his body. “You don’t understand. I’m, I’m damaged goods . I’ve never had a healthy relationship. I’ve never been wanted for the right reasons. For the reasons I want someone to want me.”

“Me neither.” Steve made a frustrated sound. “I’m serious. People want me because they think I’m dangerous. They think I’ll be a good story to tell. I fucked a guy with a face tattoo . Nobody has ever gotten to know me, and wanted me because of me.”

“At least they want you . I’m just, I’m a placeholder. A more expensive alternative to a fleshlight. I could be anyone. I could, I’m not a fucking person to some of them.”

He leaned forward, burying his face into Billy’s shoulder,and he cried. 

Billy was stunned. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s shaking body, pulling them closer together. 

“Steve, has anything ever-” he didn’t know how to ask this question. “Has anything ever happened, even if you didn’t want it to?”

Steve gave a cold laugh.

“You mean, have I been raped.”

Billy didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if he could open his mouth without throwing up. 

He knew the answer.

“Of course I have.”

Billy crushed Steve tighter. Hoping to lock him into some kind of safety. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. There have been times, situations where he’s woken up after a bender, where someone is, doing something to him. But he’s always been a big guy. He’s always been able to fight and defend himself. 

Not to say that Steve can’t. Clearly, he broke a guy’s fucking nose once. But it’s just that if Billy starts to get mean, people usually back off. 

Not keep going.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. 

He didn’t stop holding Steve, even as his sobs finally subsided. 

“I hate that this is my life,” Steve choked out. “I hate that I can’t just have something normal.”

“It’s not your fault. Not having something normal, it’s not your fault.” Not in the way that Billy’s not having something normal is entirely his fault. 

Steve pulled back, looking Billy in the eye. 

“It’s not yours either. It’s not your fault. And you, Billy, you do deserve good things. I promise.” And then Steve smiled, leaning back a little further to stick out his pinky to Billy. “I pinky promise that you deserve good things. It’s the most important type of promise.”

Billy gave a tired laugh, hooking his pinky with Steve’s. 

They were still squished against one another on the couch, and Steve leaned back to rest his head on Billy’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know when my life became such a huge mess. I mean, it has been for awhile, but it just. Things keep crashing down. And I don’t know what else can crash and burn before there’s nothing left. I thought I knew what rock bottom was, but I think I’m still sinking. I’m so scared to find it. I’m so scared of what will happen to me, of what will happen to Maisy.” He took another shaking breath, and Billy willed him not to cry again, just when he had finally calmed down some. 

“I won’t let that happen. I won’t let you hit rock bottom. I know what it’s like, and I finally feel like I’m starting to make my way up again. And so help me Steve, I’ll fucking drag you up with me.”

Steve laughed, and it was such a relieving sound. 

“Okay. We’ll keep each other okay. If we can’t, I mean, because we can’t do this , we can. We’ll keep each other okay.”

It was the best they could do. 

Billy’s in recovery. Steve doesn’t feel as though he could be safe, could be loved in a relationship. 

So for now, they’ll just keep each other okay.