If I Stare Too Long

Chapter 21: I'm Overcome Thinking 'bout It (Making Love In The Green Grass)

Leaving for California isn't as easy as simply asking Steve if he wants to go. The eager, sweet yes, of course only tempered by the actual logistics of it.

Convincing Steve of longer than a week, longer than a few weeks, hadn't been difficult– but it had certainly created its own sense of strain. Billy knows that all the more when he wakes up, sometime in the middle of September well after school has started again for the kids and just as autumn has started to turn the leaves, to find Eddie conked out next to him– and Steve missing.

It isn't the first time, in the last few weeks, that Billy has woken to find Steve absent from his own bed– the sleepy heat of him so noticeably gone. He smooths a hand over the bare sheets and finds them cold. He knows that Steve is probably downstairs, maybe watching the TV quietly, maybe sitting in his dad's office; Billy has found him in both places a handful of times now.

As the weather gets colder, drifting away from the heat of the summer, Steve has a harder and harder time sleeping.

The guilt drags him out of bed each time. Steve's told him that it's fine– that it isn't nightmares keeping him up, not really– but Billy can't help but feel the weight of Steve's tired eyes in the morning when he has a rough night.

Eddie is dead to the world as he pads quietly out of Steve's room. Through the hall, down the stairs, past the empty study, and into an equally empty living room. Steve isn't in his usual spots, but Billy catches sight of him quickly, before his heart even has a chance to lurch with the first notion of worry, sitting at the edge of the pool in the dark of the night outside.

It's not cold, not yet, but at night it dips well into the low fifties. Billy can see the steam of the pool licking at the air, and Steve with his back to the sliding door, in Eddie's boxers and Billy's MTV shirt. He feels like every time he looks at Steve these days, he's wearing one or both of their things; he can't remember the last time he caught him in khakis outside of work.

Even now, pressing the sliding glass door open to step out as Steve glances back with those tired brown eyes, Billy feels a note of pleasure at the sight of him so wrapped up and theirs.

"Hey, baby," Billy says, shutting the door quietly behind him. "What are you doing out here?"

"Actual nightmare this time," Steve confesses, without a lick of shame, and Billy is warmed by that too, especially when he pads over and Steve automatically leans against his leg, shamelessly seeking comfort as well. "Didn't wanna be inside."

He's got both feet stuck in the pool, kicking slowly. When Billy gets his fingers in Steve's hair, Steve butts up into the touch, letting out a tired little hum.

"You mind if I crash your party?" Billy asks.

Steve's hair is a little sweaty, the physical remnants of his nightmare still lingering. Billy cards his fingers through those almost-damp strands and pushes stray bits away from Steve's forehead.

Steve hums again, tipping his head back, eyes closed as he gives a little nod. "Did I wake you up?"

Billy just shrugs and then sinks down next to Steve, sticking his own bare feet into the water alongside his boyfriend's. "Might have," Billy says, "but when I actually woke up, you were already gone. So I figured I'd go find you. Munson's snoring."

He wasn't—and yet Billy still says it. Like he has to justify the way he gravitates toward Steve. Like Steve doesn't already know how gone Billy is for him.

Steve doesn't call him on the lie, though. And he doesn't hesitate to lean into Billy's side as soon as Billy's settled down next to him. He catches at one of Billy's hands with his own, lacing their fingers, head tilting over to plop itself on Billy's shoulder.