#steve calling billy pet names in his mind and having no filter

[weird-an]

Billy knows his dad doesn't act like a dad.

Has known from the first moment when Neil's hand slipped for the first time. Gets reminded everyday, when he's a girl, a loser, a faggot and never a son.

He thought it was just words and bruises that made it bad. He should actually be lucky to even have a dad at all. Where would he be without Neil?

Steve's eyes, wide and horrified, tell him something else. It makes Billy uncomfortable, in a way the school nurse back in California did, when she asked him if he's got a safe place to go to and he didn't have an answer, because he was nine and scared.

"What?" Steve says. His voice got an edge like he's choking up and tries not to.

"It's no biggie." Billy's got the sinking feeling he has screwed everything up, like when he told the nurse that he sometimes hides in his closet or under the kitchen sink until Neil falls asleep.

"You just told me you didn't get dinner for two nights in a row." Steve rubs his nose and Billy sees tears in his eyes. That can't be worth anybody's tears, can it? "And that you slept in your car."

"I just wanted to get out of his hair." Billy rolls his eyes. It's better to avoid Neil's moods. He's glad he's got the Camaro. It's a fucking privilege. Maybe rich guys like Steve don't get that.

"Yeah?" Steve squints his eyes. "What did he say?"

"Get out," Billy repeats. Cuts himself off before he can add the "fucking pussy" Neil screamed. Maybe it wasn't even that. Neil screams a lot, way too much that Billy can remember it all - and Steve's upset enough.

Somehow it feels like it's all Billy's fault. He shouldn't have mentioned that he's fucking hungry and relieved that he got his paycheck today.

Steve sucks in a deep breath. Leans forward and Billy digs his fingers in his palms, trying not to flinch. It's a reflex. Whenever someone is angry, he's all tense, like he's about to be stretched apart any second.

Steve presses a kiss on Billy's cheek.

"You can always come here," he says. "Always."

It's a lie, something inside Billy whispers. He'll get tired of you. Even your mother did leave you.

"I'll give you the spare key," Steve promises. "You don't have to sleep outside."

"Why would you do that?" Billy asks, brows furrowed. If Steve isn't home, they can't have sex and that's all Billy is probably good for.

"I want you safe, baby." Steve flushes. "Billy, I mean."

He rubs his neck. "I'll make us dinner, okay?"

Every word feels like hug. Billy's chest grows warm. "Okay."

Maybe he will have a place to go to after all.