#buttercup is an american shorthair btw idk how clear i made it in the ficlet dkfjkdfn i tried!!

[bigdumbbambieyes]

tw abuse mention

Billy had always been a dog person.

Dogs were easy to love and they always had affection to spare - at least, the ones he’d known. They were cute and excited and seemed to always like him.

Cats, on the other hand, were different for him. They could be standoffish and picky and they didn’t listen, which is what turned Billy off the most. He didn’t get why people loved cats, never understood why people worshipped and adored them, until he’d met Steve’s.

“My parents got her when we had a mice problem back when I was a kid, but she just sat around and did whatever she wanted - so they got an exterminator to go after the mice instead.” Steve chuckled as he watched the black-striped and grey cat rub herself against Billy’s shins and ankles, like she’d been starved for affection her whole life.

Billy grimaced a little, because he wasn’t fond of fur on his clothes, but Steve was quick to click his tongue and bend down to call the cat back to him.

To which she (surprisingly) went and happily nuzzled Steve’s hand when he hovered it for her. Hm.

Billy’s brows furrowed as he asked, “What’s her name?”

His boyfriend glanced up at him and gave him a dumb smile, the kind Billy only saw when Steve was embarrassed, and said, “Don’t judge - I named her when I was, like, ten. Her name’s Buttercup.”

“Buttercup,” Billy repeated with a smirk, imagining a young Steve Harrington proudly declaring the cat’s name to his parents, “That’s…a name.”

“Hey, I said not to judge!” Steve chuckled as he stood up again and reached for Billy’s hand, smiling when the blond didn’t shy or pull away once their fingers brushed, “C’mon, let’s go get a snack and watch something.”

Billy followed along quietly, his gaze flicking down to watch Buttercup as he walked by her, and she didn’t move her green eyes from him until they rounded the corner.

🐾

The more Billy went over to Steve’s, the more Buttercup hung around. He wasn’t particularly upset or thrilled by her; she was cute and he liked watching Steve throw her little toys across the room just so she could leap after them.

And it was like she knew Billy wasn’t fond of her, because whenever he’d sit down on the Harrington couch, she’d be jumping up to climb onto his lap. He’s always pick her up carefully and deposit her back on the floor or beside him - because again, cat fur - and she’d mrow at him in a disappointed tone, her emerald eyes unwavering as they stared each other down until Steve plopped down next to him. From there, she’d jump up to the back of the couch and settle there, sleeping and purring while they cuddled and watched TV or talked.

It stayed like that for a while. She was always there, included in whatever they did, whether it was relaxing on the couch or in Steve’s room - where she slept on their pillows at night - or in the backyard near the pool, watching them swim when she wasn’t chasing birds.

Billy got used to it. He’d bend down and smooth his palm along the top of her head when she greeted him at the door. He’d gently rub the pad of his thumb along the bridge of her nose whenever he woke up in Steve’s bed and she was there, waiting for him to wake up.

Then one day, his dad smacked him so hard he couldn’t see straight, and he ran out of the house and down the street and didn’t stop until his lungs burned and he found himself in Loch Nora.

He knew Steve wasn’t home because he was working, and his parents weren’t home either, so Billy rushed to the back of the house and grabbed the spare key from where he knew it was hidden.

The house was cool and quiet when he slid the backdoor shut and locked it, still trying to catch his breath as he rushed over to the mirror by the entrance to look at his face. His cheek was red and puffy, a shiner already forming under his eye, and Billy watched his face crumple in the reflection.

Tears welled and spilled, tracking down his burning face, and then he felt a familiar brush against his calves.

He looked down through his blurry vision at Buttercup, who had paused and stared up at him in return. She gave her usual mrow and Billy sniffled wetly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he gently pushed her off with his foot and muttered, “Get.”

He moved away from the mirror and went upstairs, ignoring the gentle ring of Buttercup’s bell as she followed him.

In Steve’s bedroom, Billy pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, pulling on one of Steve’s from the floor because it smelt like his boyfriend. It comforted him as he moved around the room, pulling the collar up to his nose to breathe in the scent of Steve’s cologne and body as he toed his shoes off, collapsing onto the unmade bed moments later.

Only a second passed before Buttercup was jumping up onto the bed, giving Billy a soft mrow again. Slowly, he turned his face to the side from where it had been buried in Steve’s pillow, and he eyed the cat as it stared down at him. Expectant, yet patient.

“What do you want?” Billy huffed, shifting onto his side to face her and take the pressure off the side of his face that was throbbing, quirking a brow as Buttercup slowly reached out her paw to him, hovering it in the air.

“‘M not in the mood to give you any pets,” Billy grumbled, wiping the remaining wetness from his eyes, and felt her paw gently touch his forearm.

Her paw, small and soft, was warm. Comforting.

“Fine,” Billy muttered as he shifted again, flipping onto his back and patting the spot beside him, “C’mere.”

And where he expected Buttercup to curl up beside him like she had a handful of times before, she got up and walked over and onto his chest. The weight of her under those tiny paws made Billy wince, the press of her claws inevitable, but he watched her quietly as she settled on top of his chest and tucked her paws under her chest, staring down at him.

And she began to purr.

Softly, but deeply. Billy swore he felt it rattle his heart.

The tears came again, suddenly flooding in his eyes as he watched Buttercup slowly blink down at him, her tail curling around herself as she kept her perch on top of his chest.

His hands found the soft fur of her back, just holding her there, and her eyes closed. Like she was happy. She looked happy.

Billy sniffled again and gently shook his head in quiet disbelief, giving her a watery smile as he pet down her back, mumbling, “Brat cat.”

She only purred louder.

🐾

Billy told Steve about it later, once his boyfriend got home and found the two of them passed out in his bed. His pretty boy grinned so hard he beamed like the sun after he got Billy an ice pack for his cheek and ensuring he was alright.

“That was her comforting you,” Steve hummed as he pressed a kiss to Billy’s forehead, “She’s done it to me a lot over the years. Glad she was able to look after you when I couldn’t.” He gave her chin a little scratch for that, smiling down at her.

And yeah, Billy supposed that’s what it was. Buttercup looking after him and ensuring he was comforted, because obviously he’d been upset. But, it also felt like a long time coming. She’d wanted to be close to Billy ever since he’d met and he’d always kept her at arm’s length for months.

He wished he hadn’t. He wished he had let her closer, sooner.

But, he’d make it up to her.

🐾

“Billy, you didn’t have to get Buttercup tattooed on your arm—”

“Shut up — do you think she’ll like it?”

🐾

She did.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #Buttercup Harrington is the best Harrington #don’t underestimate the healing properties of cat purrs #buttercup is an american shorthair btw idk how clear i made it in the ficlet dkfjkdfn i tried!! #bambiwrites