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Harringrove Flip Reverse it 2024 is over!
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We got SO many AMAZING creations and you can find them all HERE:
The flower whisperer by @ihni
Boys Keep Swinging by @starkstruck27
Mystified Defines it Best by @starkstruck27
I Don't Like Your Girlfriend by @starkstruck27
Touch me on the beach by @ihni
the devil ain't a beast by @magniloquent-raven
I Start to Sing and Cry and then it Makes me Laugh, Man by @starkstruck27
Feels Like The Very First Time by @merthurallure
Say You Will by @merthurallure
Versions by @ihni
True Love? Haven't Met Her by @kallisto-k
Of pets, 1/2 by @ihni
Puppy Love by @starkstruck27
I Could Die For You by @starkstruck27
Who Said Three is a Crowd? by @starkstruck27
Of pets, 2/2 by @ihni
Won't You Help me Cure this Overload by @starkstruck27
This gorgeous fanart by @racketti
A Memory Gilded in Red and Gold by @starkstruck27
You can also read all the fics in this list on AO3 here!
Thank you SO much to everyone who participated - you guys are amazing!
Want to talk to a whole bunch of fabulous Harringrovers about our favourite boys? Come and find us on Discord!
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Day 7 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!! I can't believe after today, the event I spent months preparing for is already gonna be over. I'm so glad I took part and I'm so glad for the positive feedback here, on Ao3, and just in general. I hope this final entry is as well received as the others, even though it is the saddest. It's also the longest, and it's my favorite of all of them. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Prompt: Angst - Love Letters Title: A Memory Gilded in Red and Gold Word Count: 14098 words TWs: Major character death, Child abuse, Survivor's guilt
It was July 8th, 1985. Four days after the shit hit the fan at Starcourt mall. And only two days after Billy Hargrove’s funeral. 
His dad had skipped town before his casket was even fully in the ground, taking most of his and Susan’s joint bank account with him, and leaving her and Max with practically nothing. They couldn’t afford to stay in their house anymore, and they couldn’t afford the trip back to California either, so their only option was to move into the trailer park by the end of the month and try to pick up the pieces and move on. Susan was pretty much nothing but a shell lately, the shock of losing her stepson and husband in a matter of days was really taking its toll. And Max wasn’t faring much better. She was even more quiet than usual, but trying to pretend that she was okay, and it wasn’t a very convincing act. Especially when she almost broke into tears as El told her they were moving away, too. She must’ve felt like anyone who meant anything to her was leaving her all at once, which is why Steve, Robin and the boys didn’t need to be asked twice to help them pack up the stuff on Cherry Lane before the move.
They were making good progress for the first day, packing up the things they could in the living room and getting rid of whatever Susan and Max said they no longer wanted. The house wasn’t big, so after a day, they had everything in the living room, kitchen, bathroom and Susan’s bedroom packed up and ready to go. The second day, though, was going to be the hard part.
Max couldn’t even look in the direction of Billy’s room, much less step into it, and Susan had to go to a job interview that day, so Steve had come up with a plan. Robin would help Max pack up her clothes and do her best to cheer her up, and the boys would take shifts with her so that she didn’t feel as lonely. Steve was in charge of most of the stuff in Billy’s room, as well as providing pizza for lunch and promising a trip to the arcade later on to reward them for a hard day’s work. It was all going well, and they were just about halfway done with both rooms when Dustin came to Steve, complaining that his headset got caught on something under Billy’s bed and he couldn’t get it out.
“What were you doing under the bed?” Steve asked, rolling his eyes.
“I was looking to see if there was anything under it that we would need to pack up, duh! There was nothing but exposed springs and dust bunnies, though, and my headset got caught on something, but now I can’t get it!” Dustin explained, pulling Steve further into the room and over to the bed. 
“Alright, alright, just give me a flashlight and I’ll have it out in a jiff,” Steve said, and once said flashlight was in his hand, he got down on the floor and started crawling under the bed. He shimmied his way in and finally found Dustin’s headset caught on one of the exposed springs of the old mattress. He managed to get it free after pulling on the spring, and was about to wiggle his way back out when something else caught his eye in the dull beam of the flashlight. There was a rip in the lining of the mattress, and hanging out of it was an envelope, fat with papers. Curious, Steve grabbed it, and when he pulled it out of the lining, he was surprised to see his own name written on it.
“Pizza’s here!” Robin called from the living room, startling Steve and making him hit his head as he finally came back to reality and continued to squirm his way out from under the bed. He took the envelope with him and quickly tucked it into his jacket so he could check it out later.
“What’s that?” Dustin asked as he came back out, pointing to Steve’s jacket.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Go eat your pizza, we still have a lot of work to do before we’re done, so you need to keep that energy up,” Steve said, and followed him to the living room so they could get something to eat.
After lunch, it only took them another hour or two to get everything out of the last two rooms, except for the big furniture, which Mr. Sinclair and a couple of his work friends offered to come help with the following day. They took the donation boxes to Steve’s car and then everyone piled into it, too, Steve and Robin taking the kids to the arcade, promising they’d meet up with them after dropping off the boxes at the Goodwill. Everybody had pretended not to see it when Max snuck a few little trinkets out of the boxes of Billy’s stuff, and nobody mentioned it as she stuck them in her backpack. It almost made Steve feel bad for donating the stuff, but it wasn’t his decision, so after he dropped the kids off at the arcade, he and Robin continued on to the donation entrance of the Goodwill. They gave it all to the guy who was responsible for donations, and then they went back to the arcade, standing and watching as the kids played games and tried their best to cheer Max up. At one point, they even conned Steve into getting them slushies from the snack bar, so he and Robin hopped in the line and waited as the kids continued to play.
“Okay, seriously, what’s going on with you?” Robin asked as they waited, “You’ve seemed kind of lost in thought since lunchtime and you keep checking your jacket, what’s the deal?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Steve said, shaking his head.
“Yes it is. I know you by now, Steve, and c’mon, we said we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other anymore, so spill,” Robin insisted, crossing her arms.
“Okay, fine, you’re right, but just wait until we get our slushies and then I’ll tell you, okay? C’mon, we’re next,” Steve said, taking a step forward and starting to rattle off their order to the guy behind the counter. Five minutes and six slushies later, and he and Robin were off in an empty corner of the arcade, and Steve took the envelope out of his pocket, showing it to her.
“I went under Billy’s bed to get Dustin’s headset earlier, and when I was coming back out, I found this sticking out of the lining,” he said, handing her the envelope.
“What do you think is in it?” She asked, turning it over and examining it.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if I want to. I feel kinda weird for taking it. Like, on the one hand, it has my name on it, and I don’t know any other Steve Harringtons, so it’s obviously meant for me. But on the other hand, why didn’t he just give it to me, unless he didn’t want me to have it?”
“Maybe he was going to, but he never got the chance,” Robin shrugged, taking a sip of her slushy.
“Maybe, but also, why was it under his bed, hidden in his mattress lining? That’s a weird place to put an envelope you’re planning on sending,” Steve said.
“Well, Max told us about how his dad was always looking through his stuff. Maybe that was the only place he could hide it that he wouldn’t find it until he could give it to you.”
“I don’t know,” Steve sighed, “I don’t know if I should open it or if I should just toss it. I’ve been going back and forth on it all day.”
“I don’t think you should toss it, but you also don’t have to open it right away. Keep it until you’re ready and then open it and see what’s inside,” Robin said, shrugging and handing the envelope back. “What can it hurt, y’know?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve agreed, putting the envelope back inside his jacket. 
“And as soon as you do open it, call me and tell me what’s inside, because if you don't, the curiosity is gonna kill me!” Robin said, and despite the questionable choice of words, Steve promised he would.
It ended up being that night that he opened it, just a little after midnight. He had tried to just go to sleep after getting home that night, but after a few hours of tossing and turning and wondering what was in that envelope, he finally cracked and decided to open it up and find out.
Inside was a bunch of folded up papers, and as Steve unfolded and examined each one of them, he found that they were letters, all written in the same red pen. Each one was dated, so he arranged them in order on his bed and looked them over. There were nine in total, and Steve was unsure if he really wanted to start reading them or not, but after a few minutes of deliberation, the curiosity finally got the better of him, and he picked up the first one.
October 31st / November 1st, 1984
Dear Steve,
I don’t know why the fuck I’m writing this. It’s Halloween, or, well, technically it’s not, but whatever, that’s a technicality. Either way, it’s some time after Tina’s party, and instead of going out and getting laid, I’m sitting here and writing this. I think I’m kinda drunk, although I shouldn’t be, I hardly had anything to drink tonight, including at the keg stand. Beating your record was easy, it was nothing compared to the record I held out in California. You small town hicks can’t drink for shit. So if I’m drunk, I don’t know how I got there.
Anyway, back to what I was planning on writing. I don’t understand you. I mean, I heard so much about you in the halls at school and from Tommy, but I must’ve walked past you a hundred times and I never would’ve known it. It wasn’t until Tommy pointed you out at the party tonight that I really noticed you. And I guess some of what I’ve been told is true, but I don’t believe all of it. For instance, I was told about your “unbeatable” keg record. Hah.
Still, I guess some things were true. You’re annoying, for one. Seriously, Tommy announces you’ve been dethroned and you just walk away? You could’ve had at least a little bit of a reaction, tried to insult me or something, but you didn’t, and I think that was very rude of you. Not that I care about being the new “king” of the school, but still. 
Another thing is you seem popular with the ladies. When your girl stormed out on you tonight, I saw at least three other girls follow you out the door, trying to catch up, they all wanted a piece of you. Not that I blame them, you’re pretty good looking and you do have great hair. I’d want to date you if I was a girl. Or maybe I wouldn’t. I don’t know. Like I said, I’m kinda drunk. 
Anyway, I guess I say all this to say, you’re not exactly what I expected of you from all the stories I’ve heard. You’re quite the enigma, Steve Harrington, you make me curious. I want to know more about you. What’s your middle name? Do you like pineapple on pizza? What’s your favorite Cheech and Chong movie? Personally, I like ‘Up in Smoke’. Seriously, ‘Earache my Eye’? That’s the story of my life, man. How they came up with that song, I’ll never know but it’s hilarious.
Anyway, I’m tired, and I’ve got to drive Max around tomorrow, so I better try and curb this hangover while I can. Goodnight, I guess. 
-Billy
P.S. I just realized you don’t know who Max is, but she’s my annoying little stepsister, so there you go.
Steve didn’t know what he expected from these letters, but that was certainly the last thing he’d thought he’d find. He had no idea Billy had thought about him like that from the beginning. He seemed almost friendly in that letter, like they could’ve ended up friends if either of them had given it half a chance. Which only made him wonder, why didn’t they? It could’ve been completely different, things could have played out so much better, but they didn’t, and it only made him more curious as to why as he picked up the next letter, trying to find some answers.
December 22nd, 1984
Dear Steve,
Once again, I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’m not drunk this time, but I might as well be. I’m not an alcoholic, I swear, but sometimes things in life are just easier to take when you’re drunk. That beating I gave your face a month ago, for example, that might not have hurt as much as I assume it did if you had been drunk. And this fucking holiday coming up, I swear, if my dad and Max weren’t watching me like hawks, I’d be blitzed through until New Year’s. But life sucks, so I guess I have to just fucking deal with it.
Oh, and speaking of beating you up, I’m sorry about that. I saw you driving that kid to the stupid dance at the middle school when I was dropping Max off earlier tonight, and I wanted to get out and say it to you in person, but I chickened out. She made me promise not to mess with any of you anymore, and that combined with the fact that you’d probably tell me to go fuck myself and we’d just end up fighting again anyway made me drive off without saying anything. 
But I did want to apologize. I had no right to hurt you like that. It really wasn’t you I was mad at, it was mostly my dad. He put me in charge of Max, but she snuck out and maybe I should’ve realized that, but I never signed up to be her babysitter. It was just kinda thrust on me when our parents got married, and only after we moved here. I guess they wanted to keep both of us in line, and keeping us accountable for the other was their way of doing it, but I was the only one that ever got in trouble if either of us did something wrong, so it was a rigged system anyway. And when they got home that night and found her missing, of course it was my job to go find her. This was after my dad shoved me up against a wall and slapped me across the face for “losing” her. So you can see my frustration. Still, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I was wrong for that, but I couldn’t hit my dad back, so when you hit me, I just snapped. And yeah, I started it by pushing you, but I knew there would be more to come if I didn’t get Max home, so I just wanted to get her and go, and you were in the way.
Anyway, I’m sorry about all of that. Maybe one of these days, I’ll get the courage to say that to your face, but I doubt it. Max would have my balls in a blender if I even tried to get close enough to talk to you, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear from, anyway.
But anyway, back to what I was saying. I wish I was drunk right now. I hate Christmas. I hate pretending to be a happy family so that Susan can send out Christmas cards to all her friends (Susan is my stepmom, by the way). I hate watching Max open gift after gift on Christmas morning while I get a pack of socks, a stick of deodorant, and maybe a new book, if I’m lucky. Mostly I just get ignored while she gets doted on. And it’s not like I’m jealous that she gets presents or anything, I’m just pissed that I have to pretend to care and act like I’m not hurt that they didn’t care enough about me to get anything. And most of all, I hate all the reminders that Christmas is a time to be spent with family. I don’t have one of those anymore, not since I was ten.
I mean, I still have my dad, and Susan, and Max. But they don’t exactly count. Dad is an asshole, but he’s the only one who stayed with me after everything. Susan doesn’t look at me, she turns a blind eye to everything, but I guess that’s the only way she can cope with being married to a tyrant. And Max, well, you know Max. She’s stubborn, got a real mouth on her, and she acts like the rules don’t apply to her. I know a lot of people have dead families or their families are a lot worse than mine, but still, there are a lot of people who have a lot better, and it makes me wonder, how did they manage to get that lucky? It just doesn’t seem fair.
And even through all this, the holiday might still be bearable, if I could just see my mom again. She’s the reason I lost my family when I was ten. She left that year, she couldn’t handle my dad anymore, and I always wondered why she never took me with her. She was my best friend, she took care of me. She read me bedtime stories and embroidered flowers on my clothes. She called me ‘mi pequeño amor’, which means ‘my little love’ in Spanish. There was no doubt in my mind that she loved me, so why, when she couldn’t stand living with my dad anymore, did she leave me behind? 
Sorry, I didn’t mean to just dump all that out on you. Although, I don’t know whether I’ll ever give you this letter or not, so I guess I don’t need to apologize. I mean, I want to, but I never gave you the last one, either, and if I ever do, you’ll probably think I’m insane or something, so I probably won't. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. Merry Christmas, Steve.
-Billy
After reading the second letter, Steve practically dove for the third one, needing more information and needing it now. He had no idea so much was going on in Billy’s life. He suddenly felt like a world-class jerk for ever thinking anything bad about Billy, when he really had no clue what was going on behind closed doors. He had to know how things played out the way they did, and he had seven more letters waiting to explain it to him.
January 4th, 1985
Dear Steve,
Happy New Year. I know that was a few days ago, but today was our first day back at school, and I didn’t get to tell you in person, so here you go. I also still haven’t apologized, and I feel like a dick for this, but I don’t think I ever will. I mean, you seem pretty set on avoiding me as much as you can, and I guess I don’t blame you. I’d avoid me too, given our past encounters. But as much as I get it, I also kind of hate it. I still want to know more about you, but there’s only so much I can learn by watching you from afar. Wow, that sounded creepy, but I swear, it’s not. I’m a people-watcher by nature, so that’s where this is stemming from. 
Anyway, I did learn a few things. For one, you’re a sweater guy. I saw you around town a few times during the break, and every single time, you were in a soft, expensive looking sweater. Two, you have a freakishly close friendship with that kid, Henderson. Don’t get me wrong, he seems like an okay kid, better than Max at least, but frankly, I don’t understand it. But if it makes you happy, I guess that’s good. Better one weird friend than a hundred fake ones, right? And finally, three, (and I could be way off on this one, but) you seem kinda lonely. I mean, other than Henderson. But if ever he’s off with Max and their other little friends, you always look a little lost. You look like that in the hallway, too. I know it’s not how you always look, because when you were with that Wheeler chick, you never looked like this. And as soon as you broke up for good, that’s when it started. I’m sorry you’re lonely, I know how that feels.
I wish there was something I could do about it. I could lie and say that I don’t know why I wish I could change it for you, but since I’ve already decided I’m probably never going to give you these letters I write, I might as well just come out with it. Hah, see, I made a joke. I hope you understand what I’m getting at, but if you don’t get it yet, I’m rambling to try and brush over the fact that I have a thing for you. Yep, cat’s out of the bag now. 
I could also lie again and say I don’t know when it started, but I think I can pinpoint the exact moment that I started thinking of you like this. It was the first time I saw you, at Tina’s party. I didn’t know who you were, exactly, until Tommy said it, and then I think I started trying to hate you just because of who you were, but I just couldn’t. I knew I liked you and I knew I would do something stupid about it, like maybe giving you one of these letters, if I didn’t make you hate me first. It was like reverse psychology or something, make you hate me so that I’d hate you back and then I wouldn’t ever do anything about my crush on you. Maybe that’s stupid, but hey, it worked, kind of.
But anyway, earlier today, as we were walking down the halls, I felt really sorry for you. Jeez that sounds terrible, but I just mean that it made me sad that you were so lonely. I don’t want you to be lonely. If I could, I’d be by your side always, just so that you’d know someone was there. I’d be your best friend and do everything I could to make you smile instead of sulk all day. But I guess it’s too late now. I showed you my mean streak, and now you don’t want anything to do with me. God, I’d do absolutely fucking anything to change that.
Yours, Billy
The third letter hit Steve like a train. He could feel tears forming in his eyes as he read it, and now that he was done, they had started falling. How could he have not noticed Billy had a crush on him? Why didn’t he try to rectify their relationship after the fight himself? Maybe then they’d have ended up friends and things would’ve been different. He wouldn’t have been lonely, and then Billy wouldn’t have had to notice it, and everything might’ve changed. He didn’t know, and he never would. He picked up the next letter.
February 10th, 1985
Dear Steve,
I wanna set the record straight. I don’t hate Max. I really don’t. From what I’ve heard from people who have real siblings, she’s pretty much the standard. They’re hard-headed, stubborn, a bit of a bitch, but when it comes down to it, they stick by your side. That’s pretty much how she acts with me, although, maybe it’s different with stepsiblings, because sometimes it’s different. When my dad is beating on me, for example, she never jumps in and tries to defend me, or says it’s her fault, even if it is. Granted, I don’t think I’d want to get into that situation, either, but still. And as for today, when you saw us arguing in the car and gave me that look, that was something else entirely.
See, she was asking me what I’d get for someone I cared about for a valentine’s gift. She was hell-bent and determined to get something for the Sinclair kid, but she didn’t want to just do a card, she actually wanted to get him something. And I told her not to get anything. For one, she’s the girl, and as much as I’m all for equality and all that, I still think that it’d be better if she was the one getting the gift. Her mom is kinda old-fashioned, thinks that girls should all still wear dresses and be demure, polite little shells, even though that mentality was left behind in the sixties. 
And the other thing is, if Max came home with a valentine’s gift for someone, one of our parents would inevitably ask who it was for, and Max doesn’t know better than to tell them the truth. It’s the main reason I tried to scare Sinclair away from her, because if he steps one foot onto our property and asks for Max, he’s done for, and so am I. Apparently, both of our parents are stuck in the 1950s, when women were “proper” and when black people could be killed for so much as looking at a white person. And, of course, if Sinclair did end up getting her a valentine or vice versa, Max wouldn’t see the problem with saying so when we got home, and guess who would end up with a beating for “not protecting” her from him?
So, I know I haven’t been the nicest to Max, or to Lucas, but you can understand why, right? I don’t take pleasure in scaring off kids, and I don’t enjoy playing the bully to either of them. But I also don’t enjoy people getting hurt for the hell of it, which is what would happen if I didn’t try to keep them apart. And I’ve tried explaining it to Max a few times before, but she’s still living in Wonderland where everything is nice and her stepdad wouldn’t kill her boyfriend just for talking to her. So I’m doing what I can to keep all of us safe, no matter how unpleasant it may seem. 
Truth be told, it upsets me just as much as it does them. I think Lucas could be really good for Max, and I think it’s great that she has friends like him and the rest of their crew. They might be annoying and a pain in the neck, but I think they work together because of that. And Max deserves some good friends. She didn’t ask to be in this situation anymore than I did, but we’re both here, and I just wish she would understand it a bit more to make it easier on both of us. And I know I said I didn't consider her family a couple letters ago, but really, the way things are now, she's the closest thing I've got, and I guess I kinda love her for that, no matter how it might seem to anyone else. I guess we just show our affection in different ways.
Anyway, I gotta go now, I gotta talk her out of buying Sinclair a new radio so they can keep in better contact. 
Yours, Billy
P.S. Fuck it, change that “Yours” to a “Love”. It is almost V-day, after all.
This was starting to become a bit much for Steve. He didn’t know how to take all this new information about Billy. He’d spent so much time hating him, judging him, dismissing him, that he never even thought to look below the surface and try to understand if there was more to the story. He never thought that to protect someone, you might have to be a little mean to them, but now, he supposed a lot of things made sense in a way that they didn’t before. And suddenly, he found himself wanting to learn everything he could about Billy Hargrove.
March 31st / April 1st, 1985
Dear Steve,
It’s currently 11:58 at night when I’m writing this, and the clock is about to change again. So, fun fact about me, I guess, did you know that I was supposed to be born on April 1st? At least, that’s what the baby book my mom made for me said. My dad threw it out years ago, but I remember that part of it. I was supposed to be born on April 1st, 1967, but that’s not my birthday. It was actually a few days ago, March 29th, and I turned 18, finally. I came out early, I guess I didn’t want to be seen as a joke for the rest of my life. Hah.
I still feel like a joke, though. Maybe the due date was more fitting than I realized. I guess it’s hard not to feel like your whole life is a joke when life is constantly making you the punchline. Literally. 
See, around my birthday every year, my dad gets more pissy than normal. He’s always in a bad mood, that’s just his default state, but when the reminder that I’m alive comes around, he always ends up even more upset than normal. But this year was different. My birthday was on a Friday this year, and Susan decided to buy me a cake. It’s the first time she’s ever done that for my birthday. Max gets one every year, but this was the first time she got one for me. She went to Melvald’s and had them put my name on it in icing and everything. She even got it in my favorite color, blue. She said it was a milestone birthday for me, so she wanted to make it special. She put it in the fridge and said we’d have it after dinner.
But then my dad came home. He took a nap in his chair first, and then Susan woke him up for dinner. We had chicken, like we do almost every night. Dad can’t eat a lot of red meat or seafood because he has gout, and the beer doesn’t help either, so he gave up one vice for another, and it’s been chicken ever since. I'm so damn tired of chicken. But Susan tried to make it special, she added all kinds of spices and served it with noodles and a special sauce, and it was actually pretty good. But dad didn’t like it. He said there was too much going on and it made it disgusting. He likes his food bland, but Max and I liked it. We’ll never eat it again.
Anyway, after we finished, Susan got out the cake, and she put it on the table before going to get a knife. I’m really glad she waited and didn’t just bring it all out at once, because before she even got halfway back to the kitchen, Dad stopped her in her tracks. He asked what the hell the cake was for, and she must’ve been scared to death, because she couldn’t even stutter out a lie, and then my dad turned on me and asked why in the fuck I’d ask for a cake when I didn’t deserve it and I knew they didn’t have any money to spend on one. He said I was an ingrate and that I was spoiled, and then he took the cake and threw it on the ground, and it was ruined. You can see why I was glad he didn't have access to a sharp object right then, right? Then he told Susan to come with him, they had to have a talk, and then he told me that the floor better be cleaned up by the time he gets back. Then, he had the gall to apologize to Max for having to see that, and then he and Susan disappeared back into their bedroom. 
I cleaned up the cake and Max helped me, although neither of us said a word to each other as we did. She just took the plastic and as much of the cake as she could and threw it out, then handed me some paper towels and I finished cleaning up the floor. I didn’t even thank her for her help, I just told her to go to her room when it was done because she didn’t want to be there when dad came back out. And I’m glad that she listened for once, because I was right. 
Susan stayed in their room and Dad came back out then, and the first thing he did was go to the fridge and get another beer. He was kind of limping, so his gout must’ve been having a flare up and that made him even more miserable than usual, so I knew nothing good was to come. He opened his beer and drank at least half of it, and then he set it down and he came for me.
See, here’s the thing about my dad. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. If he’s upset, he’s gotta make everyone else upset. If he’s in pain, he’s gotta make someone else hurt, too. And that someone else is usually me. I don’t know why he’s like this. And it kinda fucks me up to think about it, because I should love him. He was the only one who stayed with me my whole life. He’s half the reason I exist in the first place. He fed me and put clothes on my back and always made sure we had a roof over our heads, and I should be grateful. But he also drove my mom away, and he likes to beat on me, and he blames everything that goes wrong in his life on me. And I want to love him, I want to be happy to say that he’s my dad and that he always took great care of me, but it’s just not true, and I hate it. 
Anyway, when he was half done with his beer, he came at me. He grabbed me by the collar and marched me to my room, and he slapped me around a bit and asked again why I thought it was okay to ask for a cake even though I knew we were struggling with money. I said I didn’t ask for one, Susan surprised me with it, but he didn’t believe me. He told me not to talk back to him and lie on top of it, and I wanted to say more, but he never gave me a chance. It would’ve only made things worse, anyway. So he keeps hitting me and lecturing me about how I’m an adult now and I need to be responsible for myself. It’s been the same lecture since I was ten. Respect and responsibility. Over and over he’s drilled it into my head, and over and over he says I haven’t learned my lesson and that’s why he does what he does. 
Anyway, to make a long story short, I ended up with a black eye and was locked in my room for the rest of the weekend. Apparently, I also have to start paying rent now that I’m 18, so I have to start looking for jobs tomorrow. And he said that since I think we have money to burn on extravagant food, I wasn’t going to be allowed to eat until the weekend was over. Max snuck me a turkey sandwich yesterday night and I keep emergency food in here just for this reason, but it still fucking sucked. 
I wanted to write this sooner, but I was so angry I could hardly think, so I waited. I didn’t know if I should write anything at all, because I’ve never told anyone about what goes on at home before, but I had nothing else to do in here, so I finally just did it. Besides, I wanted to tell somebody, even if I know it’s just myself. 
So, I guess I’ll sign off here. I have to try and get to bed now anyway, since we have school tomorrow. That’s the best birthday present I’ve gotten this year, the fact that I get to leave the house again and even though I know we won’t talk to each other, I’ll get to see you. I’ve missed you.
Love, Billy
There were only four letters left, and even though he was going to push through, it was getting hard for Steve to read them. The last one had left him crying like a baby, so much so that his eyes were blurred and he had to hold the paper away from his face to keep from smudging the ink. He felt like with every new thing he learned about Billy, more questions were brought to the surface, and he wasn’t liking the way any of them were answered. But he had come this far, and there were only four left, so he kept on.
May 17th, 1985
Dear Steve,
Today was actually a pretty good day. I wasn’t planning on writing anything, but I just realized that when I write you these letters, I only end up telling you the bad things going on in my life, and even though I’ve been able to learn a lot about you, you haven’t learned much about me. I mean, you know what my favorite color is and which is my favorite Cheech and Chong movie, but other than that, you don’t know much, so here we go.
First off, as of today, I now work at the community pool. I went down and got an application, and after meeting the manager, I got a job as a lifeguard. I have to renew my CPR certification at the YMCA before I can start, but I can get that done easily and be all ready to go when the pool opens on Memorial Day. I’m really excited about it, I haven’t been in a pool since before the move, and it’s not quite as good as the ocean, but it’s the next best thing. And now I can start making more money to pay my dad and to save up and get my own place, maybe. It’s gonna take a while, but that’s the goal. 
And the pool job is only gonna be temporary. Are you planning on going to college after graduation? I don’t think I’m going to. It’s a waste of money, I don’t need a fancy piece of paper telling me I sat through classes of things I already knew, so no college for me. I’m gonna go right into the workforce as soon as I graduate. I know a little bit about cars, at least enough to build my own basically from scratch, so I’m gonna try and get a job at a mechanic shop and work my way up the ranks and just learn on the job. I think that’s the best thing for me.
Oh, and speaking of graduation, I don’t know if I’m even gonna go to ours. I’ll still get the diploma in the mail, and I’d rather not spend a week practicing standing and sitting on cue just to have no one show up to clap when I walk the stage. It’s pointless. Although, I’d get to sit next to you and neither of us would have a choice in the matter, and it might be the last chance I get to be that close to you. Not in a creepy way, either. I just mean we would see each other way less often and I want to get my fill of you before that happens. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go, I’ve still got time to decide.
By the way, I had a dream about you the other night. It wasn’t dirty or anything, although I wouldn’t have minded that, but that’s not what it was. Basically, I was in this aquarium, walking down a hallway into this room. It was the coolest room ever, all four walls were part of just one big tank and so was the ceiling, so that it felt like you were inside the tank, and it was all filled with jellyfish. Most of them were bioluminescent, so there was very little light in the room, other than the light emitted from the jellyfish, and it was just beautiful. They were all different colors and sizes, and it was so pretty. And as I walked into the room, I saw you standing there, just watching the jellyfish float around with a content look on your face, and when I walked up to you, you smiled. I went up and all I said was hi, and you said it back, but you called me ‘babe’. Then you kissed me, and it only lasted a second, then you turned back and kept watching the fish. And I could actually feel my heart beating in my sleep, and I kept glancing over at you until finally you smiled and laughed and said ‘okay, okay, I can take a hint’, and you went back to watching the fish, but then you grabbed my hand and held it, and we just stood there together until I woke up. It only felt like a minute or two, but it had to have been hours, because when I woke up, I realized I had slept through my alarm and was almost late to school. I’m really gonna miss you once school is over, Steve.
Anyway, what else can I tell you about me? I guess I told you a couple things already. I like to swim, and I like working on cars. But I said I was gonna tell you more, so here we go.
First of all, I like to read. I know, I don’t really seem like a reader, do I? But there’s something safe about books, you can hide in their worlds when your own becomes too much. My current favorite is one I found a few years ago in a little shop in California, it’s called “Annie on my Mind”. I can’t remember the author’s name, but it’s a fantastic book. It’s about two girls named Annie and Liza who meet in a museum in New York City and become best friends, and after a while, they fall in love. It’s not easy, and they break up when Liza goes off to school and has to leave Annie behind, but just before it ends, they call each other and end up getting back together. It’s a sappy rom-com, but it’s so beautiful, and reading it three years ago at 15, it gave me hope for my own future. Maybe one day I’d find my own Annie. I like to think that if I ever got the courage to go for it, maybe you could be my Annie. You fit the description to a T.
But enough of the mushy stuff now. Seriously, mushrooms are gross, I hate them. That’s another thing about me, I guess. I’m not picky with my food, not really, but if there’s one thing I just can’t stomach, it’s mushrooms. Not even on pizza, and everything tastes good on pizza.
Anyway, the next thing I’ll tell you is my favorite band, at least right now. It changes a lot, but as of right now, it’s Van Halen. They’re great. Something about them, I don’t know, they just make me happy. They’re just silly, I guess. The singer, David Lee Roth, sometimes he’ll just start monologuing randomly in the middle of a song, and if you ever see pictures of them in magazines or something, the guitarist, Eddie Van Halen, he’s just always smiling. They’re great, and I love them. I hope I can get a chance to see them in concert someday.
Anyway, I’m running out of ideas of things to tell you. There’s not a whole lot of room for individuality in my life, especially with my dad constantly going through my stuff to try and find either money or another reason to rag on me, but I’ve got two more things. 
One, I think that old movies are the best kind of movies. Especially if they’re B movies. There’s something so simple about the humor, it’s all slapstick, and I think horror and mystery movies are so much creepier when they’re done in black and white. I don’t know if I can pick a favorite, but the Miss Marple movies that came out in the sixties will always hold a special place in my heart (and yes, I realize that I’m about as old as these movies, but they’re at least 20 years old, so they count as ‘old’). 
Two, Billy is actually not my real name. I mean, it is, but it’s not. I was named after my dad, and William is actually my middle name. Still, I never liked the name Neil, and it was confusing having two Neils in the house when I was growing up, so my mom started calling me by my middle name, shortened it to Billy, and then it just stuck. Now that I’m legally an adult, I’m going to get my name officially changed, I just have to save up the money. I can now that I have a job, so hopefully soon, it’ll be done.
Anyway, this letter is getting kinda long, so I should probably wrap it up soon. I didn’t mean to ramble all that time, but I just like being able to tell you things. I haven’t ever really told anyone anything about me that they didn’t need to know, not even some of my friends from back in California, but I feel like I can tell you anything. I guess that’s kinda silly, but whatever. Somehow it still feels like you’re listening, like you’re hearing me, and that’s all I need.
Love, Billy
P.S. I remembered that author’s name, it’s Nancy Garden.
The last letter had been a little bit lighter than the previous few, and it made it a little easier to read it. At least he’d been able to stop crying while reading it. It even made him smile a little, until he got to the part about graduation. He remembered that day, Billy hadn’t shown up. He swore he saw him by the bleachers on their way to the football field for the ceremony, but he had never been sure. He always assumed Billy was just being aloof and blowing it off to be an asshole. Now he knew better, and he wasn’t sure whether he liked knowing. On the one hand, it was nice to understand Billy, but on the other hand, it was a tremendous burden. He’d never be able to discuss that book with him, or sing Van Halen while driving, or watch black and white movies with him. And maybe they never would’ve anyway if Billy were still alive, but now, there wasn’t even a chance. And it wouldn’t have weighed on Steve so much if he were still alive and it never happened, either, because he never would’ve known about any of this to begin with. And now, he just had to live with it as he read the last few letters.
June 11th, 1985
Dear Steve, 
Today was the first time since school ended that I saw you. I had to drive Max and her weird little friend Elle around, and they wanted to go to the mall, so of course I had to waste my gas chauffeuring them around, but even though I was pissed about it at first, it ended up being the best thing that could’ve happened to me today. I was just gonna drop them off and have them meet me back at the doors in a few hours, but as we drove around the building, I saw you walking in through an employee door on the side, and I decided then to park and go in, too. Max demanded to know what I was doing, she must’ve thought I was gonna follow her and her friend around all day, but I just told her that there were a few stores I wanted to check out inside, then left the car before she could ask anything else and told her and her friend to meet me back there in a few hours.
It took me a while to find you, but that was okay. I was able to go around and look at a few of the stores, and there were actually a few decent ones. There was a record store, for one, and I got a new cassette I’ve been looking for, so that was cool. There were also a couple of decent clothing stores, though I doubt they’ll last. The mothers and fathers of Hawkins will probably be too scandalized by anything they sell unless it's also sold at the Gap, so hopefully, I’ll be able to get some things while I can. I don’t make a whole lot at my job, not after I pay my dad for rent, anyway, but I should be able to get a few things by the end of the summer. 
But anyway, back to what I was saying. I walked the whole mall, looking in every store trying to find where you worked, but after a thorough sweep of the whole first floor, you were nowhere to be found. I even pretended to get lost and wandered into the movie theater to see if that’s where you were, but no dice. Then I saw the escalators that led upstairs. I don’t like malls, there’s too big a chance of running into somebody that you know that you don’t want to see, so I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to, but I was determined to see you. I didn’t realize how much I would miss seeing you every day until school ended, and now I feel like if I don’t see your face at least once a week or so, I might lose my mind. I know that sounds stupid considering how little we actually saw each other in school, but it’s the truth.
Anyway, I didn’t want to leave without seeing you, and I knew Max and her friend wouldn’t be done shopping for at least another hour, so I went up to the second floor and started to look around. There wasn’t as much to see up there, mostly just more clothing and shoe stores, but then I passed these two girls, and they were tittering on about how funny and cute it was watching you trying to flirt with them. They each had an ice cream cone in their hands, and I saw the store they got it from a little farther down the hall, and figured that was as good a place as any to try and find you, so I went there. 
Scoops Ahoy! is kind of a stupid name, isn’t it? What does ice cream have to do with sailing, anyway? But whatever, it doesn’t matter, because when I looked in the window, there you were, in all your glory, behind the counter with the silliest outfit on that I’ve ever seen. Seriously, it was just like those girls had said, cute but hilarious, especially that absolutely adorable hat. Kudos to whoever designed those uniforms. And all joking aside, you wore it well. 
Well, I guess you know what happened next, you were there. I went inside and pretended to give a rat’s ass about the girl you were working with and flirted with her, but I was only trying to make you jealous. Which is stupid, right? Because there’s no way you’d ever be into me like that, but I can pretend that your face got all red because you were jealous of her and not because you wanted to flirt with her yourself and I had stolen your thunder. Not that I blame you, she’s got a certain awkward cuteness to her and you would make a sickeningly sweet couple, but you can’t blame a guy for hoping, right? It didn’t matter anyway, I guess I’m not her type, because she dismissed me before I even got going, so I guess you still have a shot.
Anyway, after that, neither of you seemed to want anything to do with me, but your girl was closer to the employee door, so she left and it was just you and me. You asked what I wanted, and to be honest, I wasn’t trying to be a dick when I said I wanted something smooth, sweet and rich, and I wasn’t referring to your coworker, I had just been so distracted up until that point that I hadn’t looked at the flavors yet, so sorry about that. 
You took it well, though, just rolled your eyes and suggested something with entirely too much chocolate, but it was pretty good, and that’s saying something considering I was the one who ate it. I’m usually not a huge fan of ice cream, but whatever you gave me was decent enough. I can’t remember what it was called, but I’m sure it’ll just give me another excuse to start up a conversation with you the next time I come in. It’ll probably be soon, since Max was already talking about going back to the mall when I dropped her and her friend off at the Chief’s house for a sleepover. I guess I don’t really mind wasting my gas carting them around if it means I get to see you again. I just hope that you and that girl aren’t an item by the next time I see you. 
Love, Billy
Steve found himself starting to get teary-eyed again as he finished the last letter, remembering that day he saw Billy in the mall. He’d gotten so upset when he started flirting with Robin, and he’d wanted to smack him when he made that crack about ‘smooth, sweet and rich’. Now he just felt guilty about everything. If ever there was a time he wished he had access to a time machine, it would’ve been now, because maybe he could go back and change things, fix one little thing and make everything better, make it so that Billy didn’t die and they could start all over. Instead, all he could do was keep reading and try to keep himself together as he did.
June 29th / June 30th, 1985
Dear Steve,
I wrecked my car tonight. It was out near the old steel mill, something ran in front of my car and I swerved to avoid it, and I completely ruined her, my baby. I don’t want to tell you where I was going. I shouldn’t have been going there, I shouldn’t have been out there that late at night. I just got so lonely, y’know? And it was nice to feel wanted, even if I knew from the start that nothing good would come from it and that it was wrong on so many levels. But I’ve been pent up and going stir crazy since I last saw you, and I just needed something to get me through until I could. 
Damn, I really built up the suspense there, huh? I guess now I have to tell you. I was going to a motel just a little bit out of town. I was gonna meet Mrs. Wheeler there. She and a few of the other moms that hang out at the pool every day like to flirt with me and sometimes I play into it, because what else is there to do? And it’s not like they’d stop if I asked them to, so sometimes I just decide it’s not worth the battle. I don’t get paid enough to deal with them anyway, so sometimes I just say whatever I can think of to get them to leave me alone. So maybe it was a bad idea for me to suggest it, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. 
But anyway, I was gonna meet Mrs. Wheeler out at a motel, but then that thing ran in front of my car and I wrecked it. I don’t think the thing was hurt, but I was totally freaked out. It was dark and I was alone on this desolate little road and nobody knew where I was at or where I was going and I hit my head and my car wouldn’t start again, so I didn’t know what to do. And I think I hit that thing anyway, because when I got out to look at the damage, there was this weird goo on my car, like animal guts or something, and that just freaked me out even more. But what really got me was that then, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, so whatever I hit, I guess I didn’t kill it, and I don’t know what kind of animals are supposed to be out in those woods, but this thing fucking growled at me, this weird high-pitched screechy kind of growl, and I wanted to get out of there so bad, but I couldn’t. And then I tried to be rational about it, hoping it was a person instead and not some kind of animal and that maybe they could help me, so I asked if anyone was there, but then something grabbed me.
Steve, I don’t know what the fuck it was. All I know is that it grabbed my ankle and was strong enough to pull me backwards and it was fast. Like, faster than any wild animal should have been, especially while dragging me along with it. It pulled me into the abandoned warehouse and tried to drag me down a flight of stairs, but I grabbed the handrails and tried to get away. It gets kinda blurry at this point, but I think I did, and I ran as fast as I could out of that building, and I didn’t even think, I just got back in my car and somehow it was working and I sped away and just drove until I found a phone booth. I called the cops, but I had no idea what the hell had just happened to me, and it was coming back in bits and pieces and I just couldn’t speak. And when I opened my eyes again to try and talk, everything was different. I mean, it was the same, but different. It was freezing, like it was winter instead of summer, and there was this weird dust floating around like snowflakes, and I was so confused that I hung up the phone and went outside. And my car was still there, it was still Hawkins, but somehow, it felt like the fog that hadn’t been there before was staring at me. I know this doesn’t make any sense, but in my head I could hear it laughing at me, like I was a sideshow attraction or something, and it made me feel anxious. And I started screaming at it, like that would do anything, because I had no idea what else to do, and then the sky lit up red from this weird lightning and I had no idea what was happening, just that it wasn’t good, and I was right.
This is the worst part, though. I saw someone walking towards me, and at first I was relieved, because I thought they were coming to help me, but then they got close enough for me to see them through the darkness, and it was me. It was me, but it wasn’t. It looked like me and walked like me, but it’s voice was different, and I know for a fact it wasn’t me, because I was right fucking there and it was speaking to me. I had asked it what it wanted while I was just shouting into the dark, and that thing, it answered me. It said in this dark, deep voice that it wanted to build, that it wanted me to build, and I had no idea what that meant, so I asked it what it wanted me to build, and it just said ‘what you see’. And I said I didn’t understand what that meant, and it didn’t say anything else, it just turned around and walked off. 
And then, the next thing I knew, I was back in my car, and I was on my way home. The crack in the windshield was still there, and it was still dented up, so I knew the accident happened, but now I don’t know what to think. I know I hit my head, so it must’ve just been a really intense dream, but it just felt so real. I could feel everything that happened, and I don’t know why I would dream first and black out second. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know if it’s over or not, but I really hope it is. And this is gonna sound crazy, but on the off chance that whatever happened to me tonight actually was real and it did happen, I hope I die before I see the rest of it pan out. If that other me was real, I don’t want to know what the hell it can do to me or anyone that I care about. 
But I don’t know what’s real anymore. Maybe I’m not even writing this, maybe I’m still passed out in my car on the side of the road somewhere, still dreaming away. Or maybe I died tonight and this is the purgatory/Hell I was sent to. Either way, I hope that after I finish this letter and go to bed, I wake up for real tomorrow and everything is back to normal, or at least I get some answers on whether or not I’m going to spend eternity in that Hellscape I dreamed up.
Love, Billy
This had been the hardest letter of all of them to get through. There were so many things that just made Steve’s stomach turn, and he wasn’t sure which was the worst. For one, Billy must’ve been terrified. To be in a car crash and then to also be faced with what he assumed was the Mind Flayer and then end up facing himself after ending up in the Upside Down? Steve had faced demogorgons, demodogs and even torture from Russian soldiers, but all that seemed like nothing compared to what Billy went through. Not only that, but he hadn’t even known if it was real or not. That would be terrifying in and of itself. And to think that all of this happened because he was going to meet Mrs. Wheeler at some motel. 
Steve had never been very close with Nancy’s mom, but after spending so much time at her house, he liked to think he had a certain knowledge of the way she was. And to now find out that she was planning on having an affair with someone his and Nancy’s age… It made him feel disgusting on so many levels. It would be like if he had a thing for Holly, it was just gross. And Billy had to deal with that on a daily basis, and while he was working, too. And sure, maybe Billy wasn’t exactly innocent in all of this, either, but he was barely an adult, and he shouldn’t have had the opportunity in the first place. The only good thing about Billy getting into that accident was that he never had the chance to meet Mrs. Wheeler. The problem was that he met something much more dangerous.
That point was reiterated as Steve picked up the next letter, before he even started reading. The paper was a little crinkled in some places, like drops of water had hit it, and the pen was smudged in a few spots. It made a pit form in Steve’s stomach as he realized Billy must’ve been crying as he wrote it, and a lump started growing in his throat as he started to read.
July 2nd, 1985
Dear Steve,
I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m scared. Ever since the accident, things haven’t been right, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I know it’s not good. And I know that it involves you, and Max, and Elle, and probably all of their little friends and your girlfriend, too, and probably a lot of other people. 
See, I’m writing this in a moment of lucidity, because lately everything’s been going black and when I wake up, I’m in a whole new place and I don’t know how I got there, and I only have so long before it all goes black again. I never know how long I have, but hopefully I can finish this before I run out of time. If not, I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to finish, because these blackouts are becoming more and more frequent and I think soon they’re gonna take over and I’m not gonna wake back up again. 
I don’t know what this thing is, though. I just know it’s what got me the night I crashed. It hates when it’s warm, and the sun is basically its enemy. I think that’s why that place where I saw myself was so cold. And speaking of seeing myself, I think that, whatever it was, that other me, it takes over when I black out, which is how I go from place to place without knowing it. It’s like a parasite, I guess, it takes you over little by little until there’s nothing left of you. I don’t want that to happen to me, but who could I tell that would A, believe me and B, help me get rid of it? I don’t think anyone would. It’s like the plague, everyone would find out I’m infected and run away screaming, and I’d be left to die all alone. I don’t want to die alone. I don’t want to die period, but it’d be even worse if I was alone when I kicked it.
Anyway, I don’t have much time, so I wanna say some things before I can’t anymore. One, if you ever find these letters, please don’t hate me for the things I say in them. I didn’t mean for it to go this far when I wrote that first one, but after I did, it just became like a journal, I could tell you anything and you’d listen and you’d comfort me just by hearing me. That’s cheesy as hell, but it’s true. I still kinda hope you never find them, but if you do, don’t hate me for them.
Two, if you are reading this, that means you found the letters, and if that’s the case, then I need you to do something for me. I need you to help Max through this. Make sure she’s okay, make sure she stays safe, and make sure as hell that she learns to drive better than the way I did. She better never crash because she was driving recklessly like I did, and if she does, I will personally kick your ass when I see you in the afterlife. And if this thing that’s in me ever goes after her, you better make sure it suffers as it dies, do you understand me? And I know that’s already a lot to ask, but I just need one more thing. As much as we got on each other’s nerves, Max and I needed each other. So if I die, please do what you can to be a big brother for her. Pester her a little bit, pretend you hate it when she demands rides all over town, and above all, be there for her when she needs you, because I know she will. Y’know, now that I think about it, I think I understand your relationship with the Henderson kid now. You’re already his big brother, so just be the same for Max, okay?
Three, make sure the rest of their little gang knows I’m sorry for the things I did to scare them, especially Lucas. I know it sounds like a cop-out, but I really was just trying to protect them. They’re good kids, but I knew they wouldn’t leave Max alone, and if my dad found out she was hanging out with a bunch of boys, it wouldn’t have ended well, for any of us. And as for Elle, I know that whatever this thing is inside me, it has something to do with her. I keep seeing her in my head, and I just hope that she knows that whatever happens, it’s nothing personal. I actually kinda liked her, as far as Max’s friends go, she was the nicest, and she always said thank you whenever I drove them somewhere. She’s a good kid, they all are.
And lastly, whatever happens, don’t feel guilty about it. You’re a great guy, Steve, and I know you think it’s always up to you to be the hero, but if I die, don’t feel bad, because there’s nothing you could’ve done. And even if there was something you could do, don’t feel bad, because even if I die, if you can help save Max and the rest of the kids and your girlfriend and maybe even a few other people, you’ve done more than enough. Don’t worry about me, okay? If this thing can be beaten, I’m gonna beat it, and if I come to after it’s all said and done and you’re mopey because you didn’t get to save me and be the hero, I’m gonna let it get back in me and finish the job.
Wow, actually, scratch that, I didn’t realize how morbid that was until I wrote it down, but the message is the same. If there’s even a chance I can get through this, I will, and that’s that, okay? I’m gonna see your face at the end of this, mopey or not, and when I do, maybe I’ll give you these letters. If I can face whatever this thing is in me, I can face you with a few sheets of paper, right? And if I don’t make it through and you find these letters anyway, know I did everything I could. 
Oh, and one more thing. If I don’t make it, I want you to take my bomber jacket. Y’know, the one I was wearing on that night back in November. You don’t have to wear it, you don’t even have to look at it, just keep it for me, okay? I love that jacket, it was my mom’s, and she gave it to me before she left because I always said how much I liked it. I know that when I’m gone, my dad’s not gonna want to deal with my stuff, so he’ll probably donate most of it and pitch the rest, but I want you to have the jacket. It means too much to me for it to end up at the bottom of a landfill or being sold for two bucks at a thrift store, so if you’d keep it, it would mean a lot to me. And if you want to wear it, please do. It’s kinda corny, but it’d be like giving you my letterman jacket like the guys would do with their girls in the movies. That might make it weird for you to think of it like that, but like I said, you don’t have to wear it. Just keep it for me so I know it’s in good hands.
Anyway, I’m gonna try to wrap this up now so I make sure I finish in time. I’m doing my best to be positive here, but I gotta tell you, every minute that passes as I’m writing this, the more scared I get. I don’t think there’s gonna be a way out of this for me. I just hope I don’t take too many people down with me. I’m sorry if I do. And I’m sorry in general. I wish I wasn’t such a coward and would’ve been able to put aside my pride to make things right with you. I wish we could’ve been friends. I wish I could’ve given you these letters and seen your face as you read them. I wish I would’ve known if you’d hate me for having a crush on you or if you would’ve been nice about it and let me down gently. I wish I would’ve known what your favorite Cheech and Chong movie was, and if you liked pineapple on pizza. I wish I’d have been able to learn your middle name because I asked you, not because I hid under the bleachers on graduation day and waited to hear it. I wish I could stop saying “I wish” and just get to the point. I wish I had all the time in the world to keep coming up with things to say “I wish” about. But I don’t, and I need to cut myself off before I keep saying it and I never say what I really want to say. 
I really care about you, Steve, maybe I even love you. I don’t think I’ll ever know, because I never got the chance to try, and it’s my own fault for fucking things up with you early on. But if it is love that I’ve been feeling all these months, I’m sorry that this is the way you had to find out. I’m really gonna miss you, Steve. And maybe it’s selfish, but I hope you’ll miss me a little bit, too.
All my love (I think), Billy
Steve finished the last letter, and as soon as he did, he scrambled out of bed and down the stairs, heading for the phone in the kitchen. It was a little after two in the morning and he was a mess, tears were streaming down his face and it was going to be hard to talk through the sobs, but he needed to talk to Robin. He punched in her number and tried to calm himself down a little, but it was no use, he only became more hysterical the longer it took for someone to answer. Finally, just before the answering machine would’ve picked up instead, her mom answered, sounding groggy and annoyed as she asked who was calling.
“It’s S-Steve. I’m so sorry, Mrs. B-Buckley, but I need t-to talk to Robin,” he said, rubbing his eyes as he continued to try and calm down.
“Steve, oh my goodness, is everything alright? Did something happen, are you okay?” Mrs. Buckley asked, her annoyance melting away into concern.
“No, no, I’m fine,” Steve said, clearing his throat, “I’m really sorry, ma’am, I just really need to talk to her, please.”
“Okay, honey, just hold on a second and I’ll go wake her up. We’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve said, swallowing as he listened to Mrs. Buckley setting the receiver down and walking away to wake Robin up. A few seconds later and he heard someone picking it back up, followed by a few steps and then the sound of a door closing before Robin finally yawned at him through the phone.
“Steve, it’s two a.m., what-”
“They were letters,” he interrupted, sniffling a little, “In that envelope, they were love letters.”
“Holy shit,” Robin said, both curious and astounded. 
“Yeah,” Steve agreed, leaning his back against the wall and then sliding down to sit against it.
“What did they say?” Robin asked.
“Everything,” Steve said, shivering out a sigh, “It started with him saying that he wanted to understand me more, and then the next few said that he was sorry for the thing last November and he told me about some of the things he went through at home and how his mom left when he was ten, and then he said he liked me but we weren’t even friends so he wasn’t gonna tell me in person but he cared about me and then in the next one he told me why he was always so mean to the kids and after that, he told me all about how his dad would treat him like shit and-”
“Whoa, whoa, Steve, I’m starting to lose you, take a breath, okay?” Robin said, breathing with him through the phone. “Now, I was with you for the most part, so keep going, just try and slow down a bit, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve said, taking one more deep breath. “He told me that on his birthday his dad beat him up because Susan got him a cake, and that it happened all the time for stupid reasons. And in the next letter, he had had a good day, so he told me all about himself. He liked black and white movies, Robin. He was gonna be a mechanic. He hated mushrooms and he loved Van Halen and he liked to read and Billy wasn’t his real name and he had a dream about me and jellyfish and I never even thought to learn any of this about him when he was still here and now I feel like a fucking jackass because I should’ve given him a chance while I could but I didn’t and now it’s too late!”
Steve had started crying harder again as he explained, and Robin just let him. She wished she could crawl through the phone and hug him, but she couldn’t, so she just let him get it out. He cried through the phone at her for a few minutes, and she kept telling him it would be okay, until finally, he’d cried himself out enough to keep talking. 
“He didn’t like ice cream, but he liked the chocolate cheesecake explosion I gave him when he came into Scoops that one time,” he said, swallowing thickly. “And then the last two letters was when he told me about how he got possessed by the Mind Flayer. He was in an accident and it got him, but he didn’t know what was happening because we never brought him into the loop about all that stuff.”
“Steve, you know we couldn’t. I didn’t know about it either, and you only told me when I got involved, otherwise you’d have broken your NDA. And Max couldn’t have told him, either, or else she’d have gotten in trouble, too. It’s not your fault,” Robin tried, but Steve only chuckled dryly through the phone.
“That’s what he said, too. He said it’s not my fault, but that’s bullshit. I’m bullshit. I should’ve told him.”
“Steve, you are not bullshit, you’re the farthest thing from bullshit. And when would you have told him, huh? When you hated him and didn’t want him within ten feet of you? You said yourself, you weren’t friends, and who knows if he would’ve believed you, anyway. I didn’t at first, I doubt he would, either. There’s nothing that you could’ve done.”
“Yes there is, I just didn’t do it and now he’s dead and it’s all my fault!” Steve yelled, slamming his fist down on the floor. “It’s all my fault, Robin.”
“It’s not, Steve. Billy made the choice to drive the way he did. He made the choice to be on that particular road at that particular time. And he also made the choice to save El and the rest of us by standing up to that thing. He was a fighter, if there was anything he could’ve done to get out of there with us, he would’ve, but he must’ve figured it was either him or us, and he chose to save us. There was nothing any of us could’ve done.”
“I could’ve forgiven him.”
“He never asked if you would forgive him.”
“That doesn’t mean he deserved what happened.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t. But it is what it is, and all we can do now is make sure we don’t take what he did for granted, right?”
“I guess so,” Steve sniffed, wiping away some fresh tears as he leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know it, but Robin was sitting against her door in exactly the same position as she stayed on the line, just breathing with her best friend.
 “Hey, by the way,” he said after a few minutes, “Do you remember what we did with Billy’s bomber jacket?”
“I think we took it to Goodwill with the rest of his clothes, why?”
“In the last letter, he said he wanted me to have it if he died because it was his mom’s and he didn’t want it to end up in a thrift store for someone else to buy.”
“Then tomorrow, when they open, you and I can go and get it back, okay? For right now, I think we both just need to get some sleep, and then when we go tomorrow to get it, you can tell me more about these letters, does that sound good?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. See you tomorrow, Robin,” Steve said, waiting until he heard a click followed shortly by the dial tone. He grunted as he heaved himself up after that, putting his phone back on the cradle and then trudging back up to his room. He was exhausted, but he was almost afraid to fall asleep, not knowing what might enter his head if he started to dream after all this. Still, he cleaned up the letters off of his bed, folded them gently back up and put them back in the envelope. He put the envelope in his nightstand drawer and sighed as he closed it, wiping his eyes one last time as he settled in bed, falling asleep quicker than he would’ve liked.
He then found himself in an aquarium, surrounded by jellyfish on all sides. He was a little cold as he looked at the tanks, and he could feel himself shiver as he watched the creatures floating around him, but then he heard someone coming up behind him, and when he turned to look, there was Billy. He didn’t say anything, just took off his jacket, the bomber, and held it up for Steve to put on. He did, and then the two of them just stood there, watching the fish. Every few seconds though, Steve would glance over, searching for something to say.
“Okay, okay, I can take a hint,” Billy finally said, smiling and turning to face Steve before wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly as he added, “It’s okay, Steve. It’s all okay, I promise.”
It felt like only a second had passed when Steve woke up the next morning, in his bedroom, the covers twisted around him and his clock reading 11 a.m.. He called Robin and they made their plans, agreeing to meet in a half hour so that they could get to Goodwill with plenty of time before it opened. It was a Sunday, so they didn’t open until noon, and Steve was glad about that. If it had been any other day, Robin would’ve called early in the morning so that they could get there when it usually opened, and he might not have been able to see his dream play out, and that would’ve killed him. 
The dream didn’t fix everything, and Steve knew that more than likely, it was just his subconscious picking something to try and help him rationalize everything that happened. But he liked to think that maybe, just maybe, it was no accident that he had that dream. Maybe Billy really was there in his head, trying to send him a message. And if that was the case, he was going to take it and run with it, all the way to the Goodwill and back again, bomber jacket in hand.
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July 6th: Taken Prisoner
(Angst -> Fluff)
For @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!
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Day 6 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!! This was another one that took me forever to write, but I finally finished and I'm so excited to share!! Prompt: NSFW - Overstimulation Title: Won't You Help me Cure this Overload Word Count: 3564 words TWs: Overstimulation, Panic attacks
It was Thursday night at the Hideout, the first Thursday of summer vacation, and somehow, Dustin had talked Steve into giving him and the other kids a ride to come out and see Eddie Munson play with his band. The club was in Chicago, but the four boys were going into their sophomore year next year, and it was summer, after all, so their parents had all given the O.K. on them going to the show, as long as Steve stayed with them. They were going to spend the night in one of his dad’s condos, and then after breakfast and a bit of shopping, they’d come home on Friday afternoon. At least, that was the plan.
But now they were in the club, and Steve was severely regretting agreeing to bring the kids out here alone. There were so many people packed into the tiny room, and it was hot, and the music was too loud, and everything was too fast and it smelled like weed and he already had a headache, and if he didn’t get out of that room right then, he felt like he’d have a meltdown.
“Guys, guys, we gotta go for a minute,” he shouted over the music. Eddie’s band wasn’t on yet, it was a different band that was playing, so he figured the kids wouldn’t mind stepping outside with him for a minute so he could calm down in preparation for the main event.
“Where are we going?” Mike asked, he and the other three looking at Steve like he was nuts.
“Just… outside. Come on, hold onto each other so I don’t lose any of you,” Steve said, panic creeping up his spine as someone bumped into him, and he had to fight to keep it inside.
“But these guys are great! I don’t want to leave now! Besides, we still gotta muscle our way up front for when Eddie comes on!” Dustin complained, and Steve had to look away for a second so he didn’t strangle him. He loved Dustin, he loved all four of these knuckleheads, but right now, he was having trouble breathing on his own, and he needed to take a second to remind himself that it wasn’t their fault he was getting overwhelmed. 
“We still have plenty of time for that, but we need to go outside, right now! Come on!” Steve said, but as he started walking, none of the kids followed. “C’mon, guys, chop chop!”
“We don’t want to lose our spot! You go outside and we’ll stay here. We promise to stay together!” Lucas said, the other three agreeing, and at this point, Steve had had it. Against his better judgment, he threw his hands in the air and walked away, heading for the door.
Only problem was, in the time they’d been there, the crowd had nearly doubled in size, and in the dark, smoke-filled club, Steve could hardly tell which way was up, let alone which way led to the exit. He was caught in the sea of people, and as another song started, the panic started gripping him at full force. His vision went blurry, and the next thing he knew, he was starting to push people out of the way trying to get out. This only made things worse, because then people thought he was just doing it to have fun and mosh with the music, and they started doing it back, until he was at the center of a full fledged mosh pit with no way out. 
Finally, it all became too much, and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He began to cry as he fell to the floor, curled up in a ball and tried to cover his ears, doing what he could to shut everything out and hoped it would be over soon. It didn’t end, though, it seemed to go on forever, until he felt a gentle hand on his own, and it pried it away from his ear long enough for someone to shout, “Hold onto me, I’m gonna get you outta here!”
Steve didn’t know who it was that was talking to him, nor did he know if he should really be following this guy, but at that point, he’d do anything to get out of that club, so he did as he was told and clung to the guy as he led him through the crowd, shoving his way through if necessary until they were outside in the cool, fresh night air.
“There we go, sit down here,” the guy instructed once they were outside, guiding Steve to sit down on the curb and placing a hand on his back. “That’s it, just breathe. Take your time, you’ll be alright.”
Steve did as instructed and took a few deep breaths, calming himself down enough to open his eyes and look around. There were no more people, no more smoke, just the open air of the street and the muffled sound of music coming from the club. 
“There you go,” the guy next to him said, smiling nicely as he patted Steve's back. “Would you like some water?”
“S-sure, thanks,” Steve replied, looking over at the guy and managing a tiny smile. 
“Don't mention it,” the guy said as he reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a small bottle of water, handing it to Steve and waiting for him to drink. “Number one rule of concerts, if you can smuggle in water, do it. Otherwise the venue will charge you through the nose for it.”
“I never would've thought of that. I never really go to concerts, though, I'm only here because-” Steve cut himself off, standing up in a whole new panic as he realized he left the kids inside by themselves. “Holy shit, thank you for everything, but I gotta get back in there!”
“Whoa, whoa, calm down, you're not gonna miss anything, you gotta chill first,” the guy said, standing up and blocking Steve's path.
“No, you don't understand, I'm supposed to be chaperoning a bunch of kids and I just left them in there!” Steve tried to get past the guy, but he wouldn't budge.
“No, I know, but if you aren't calmed down first you're not gonna be much use to them. And anyway, they're safe, believe me,” the guy said, looking Steve in the eye and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “My friends and I were standing behind you guys and we saw you starting to panic, so I told my friends to keep an eye on your friends so I could help you when I saw you get stuck in that pit. And my little sister is here, too, she's about their age, and I trust my friends to keep an eye on her, so they'll be fine, trust me.”
“But I was supposed to look after them and no offense, but I don't even know your name! I gotta get back to them,” Steve tried, but the guy held his ground.
“My name's Billy. My friend's names are Sid and Wayne, and my sister's name is Max. We saw you having a hard time in there, so we agreed to help you if you needed it, and you did, so we're helping you. Now look, I'm not trying to keep you from your friends, but if you're gonna go back in there, you can't do it panicked or else you'll just end up on the floor again, so here,” the guy, Billy, said, reaching into another pocket and pulling out a few things. 
“What are these?” Steve asked, taking the little orange nubs from Billy. 
“Earplugs. They'll muffle the sound a bit so it's not so loud, but you'll still be able to hear. And here, take a couple of these,” he said, pulling out a small bottle of ibuprofen. “Perks of traveling with a younger sister, you always remember to carry ibuprofen, just in case.”
Steve thanked him and downed the pills, already starting to feel better as he took a deep breath and tested out the earplugs. They helped to muffle the sound, just like Billy’d said, but they also made him hear himself more, so his breathing was easier to regulate and he could actually hear himself think now. 
“How do you like them?” He could hear Billy raising his voice so that he could hear him.
“They’re great, thank you,” Steve said at a normal volume, taking them out again so that nobody had to keep shouting.
“My pleasure,” Billy said, smiling kindly as he sat down on the curb again and pulled Steve down to sit beside him. “So, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Steve said, putting the earplugs in his pocket for safekeeping.
“If you get overstimulated at concerts, why’d you come to one?”
“I told you, a bunch of kids I used to babysit wanted to come, so I said I’d chaperone,” Steve replied, shrugging.
“Why didn’t you just tell them to get someone else? Or say they were out of luck and they could catch the next one?”
“Well, I was going to, but they really wanted to come and see their friend play. And I didn’t think it’d affect me this much, so I caved. And I guess none of their parents wanted to come and then drive two hours back home when they have to work the next day, either, so since my dad has a condo out here where we could stay for the night, things just seemed all too perfect.”
“Hey, two hours is better than two days,” Billy chuckled.
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean that at least you’re close enough to Chicago that you could go home tonight if you wanted to. We’re from California, so we’d have to either take a plane or drive for two to three days to get back home. Not that I’m in a big rush to get home, anyway, but at least you have the option.”
“I guess,” Steve said, “What are you doing out here though, if I may ask?”
“I’m looking at colleges, I’m taking a gap year, but then I’m gonna go next year. Sid and Wayne wanted to come with me, and Max of course had to join, too, and so we packed up and came on a road trip. While we were touring one of the campuses today, we saw a flier for the concert tonight, and we decided to come. I’m glad we did, too. Now I can tack an extra day onto the trip and I won’t have to rush home in the next couple of days.”
“That sounds like fun. Any colleges stick out to you?”
“None right now, but that’s just the indecisive part of me not wanting to have to pick,” Billy said. “What about you? Are you doing any type of college?”
“Nah, I went straight into working once I got out of high school. I don’t think college is really for me, anyway. Too much pressure that I just don’t need right now.”
“I get that. I’m already under pressure, that’s why I want to go to college, to get away from it. Hopefully it ends up as rosy as the picture I have in my head when it actually becomes a reality.”
“I’m sure it will. You’re a nice guy and you seem to be prepared for anything, so it should be a breeze for you,” Steve said, smiling.
“Thanks. I hope you’re right,” Billy replied, grinning back.
The two sat outside and talked for a while longer, telling each other about themselves and getting to know each other in a conversation that was as easy as if it were being shared by two old friends. They got so wrapped up in their discussion that Steve completely forgot why he was even anxious in the first place, and he hardly noticed it when the ground stopped shaking from the music inside the club.
“I think the opener just finished,” Billy said as the conversation hit a lull, “It usually takes a while for the next band to set up after that, so do you want to go inside and check on your friends?”
“Oh shit, I’m a horrible babysitter,” Steve said, “I completely forgot they were in there by themselves! Yeah, I need to go make sure they’re okay, fuck.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it, they’ll be just fine, I promise you. Oh, and if you want you can put those earplugs in before we go inside. It’ll still be kinda noisy in there and we wouldn’t want you to get overwhelmed again. We’ll all probably have to shout to talk, anyway. And I can kinda guide you so that you don’t get lost.”
“That’d be great, thanks,” Steve said, blushing a little as he put the earplugs back in. Billy waited until he had them the way he wanted and then took his hand, guiding him over to the door and back through all the crowds of people until they got to where their friends were. Steve let out a sigh of relief when he saw that all four boys were still right where he left them, no broken bones or black eyes to be seen. What he did see, though, was the boys talking with a girl their age with bright red hair and black makeup covering most of her face. She had a safety pin stuck in her ear and a black shirt on that seemed way too big for her, but it was tied in a knot behind her back. The boys were chatting away with her like there was no tomorrow, and from the fact that Dustin had his notebook out (he never went anywhere without it), they had all just exchanged numbers so that they could talk again later.
“That’s my sister, Max,” Billy said loudly to Steve as they walked over, “And the two guys behind them are Sid and Wayne, my two best friends.”
“They seem cool,” Steve said, suddenly feeling a little self conscious as he approached the group. When he saw the boys getting all dressed up in their black clothes and edgy makeup, he figured they wouldn’t be the only ones, but there would be some normally dressed people here, too, so he only wore a black t-shirt and jeans. Now he kinda regretted that decision as he walked over to Billy’s friends, who were more decked out than anybody and seemed to be fitting in better, too. Who knew that a bunch of nerds would be able to make Steve Harrington feel insecure?
He didn’t need to, though, because as soon as he and Billy walked up to the group, the boys were all over him, hugging him and saying they were glad he was okay before introducing him to Max. She gave him a firm look up and down before shrugging, which seemed like the best he was gonna get from her, and he took it gracefully. Then Billy introduced him to his friends, and they seemed a lot more friendly than Max, smiling and engaging in a nice conversation with him and the rest of the group as they waited for the next band to come on.
As Corroded Coffin took to the stage to tune up before starting, the boys and Max insisted on getting as close as possible, and they began to shove their way up front much to Steve’s dismay. He really didn’t want them to get hurt or anything, and he also didn’t really want to go up there with them, but he felt like he didn’t have a choice. He sighed and was about to follow them up, but Billy grabbed his arm and pulled him back, nodding for Steve to follow him.
“Sid and Wayne are going with them, they’ll be fine,” he said, seeming to read his mind, “But I can tell you’re still nervous so come on.”
“Where are we going?” Steve asked, still following anyway.
“There’s a few tables pushed up against the wall in the back. If you sit on one, you’ll be able to see the whole club, so you can keep an eye on the boys while also staying out of the mosh pits.”
“Am I allowed to do that?”
“Probably not, but I’m not going to tell on you.”
Billy helped Steve up onto one of those high tables that bars always have, and he was right, from up here, he could see the entire club, including where the crowd met the stage, and that’s where the boys were. He sighed in the closest thing he could feel right now to relief, and was about to thank Billy again, but by the time he turned to say it, the first loud chords to a song rang out, and he never got the chance. Still, Billy looked up at him and smiled, and he was sure he got the message.
They spent the whole rest of the concert together at the back of the club, Steve keeping an eye on the boys and Billy just enjoying the music. At one point, Steve tried to encourage Billy to go and do his own thing, he felt bad that he was staying with him all night when he should’ve been able to have fun, but Billy pretended not to hear him, and he stayed where he was until the show was over. 
When it was, Billy helped Steve down from the table, and they met the rest of their group halfway as they made their way back, the boys and Max unable to stop talking about how good the show was, and Sid and Wayne having to practically drag them along. The club was starting to clear out, so Steve was able to breathe a bit easier, especially when they started making their way outside, and once they were out in the open air, he got the first good deep breath he’d had all night.
“Thank you again,” Steve said to Billy as they leaned up against the wall of the club. The kids were still talking, and they knew they weren’t getting out of there anytime soon with the way traffic was gonna be, so they settled against the wall to share a smoke while they waited.
“If you thank me one more time, I’m never going to speak to you again,” Billy smiled as he flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette.
“Well, considering we only just met tonight and you live halfway across the country, I doubt we’ll be talking much after tonight, anyway,” Steve shrugged, surprised by how much his own words saddened him.
“That might’ve been true, if I didn’t plan on giving you my number and asking you for yours. But if you try to thank me again, I’m not gonna do it out of spite.”
“You want my number?” Steve asked, staring at him. “Why?”
“Because you’re a nice person and I feel like I made a potentially really good friend tonight, and I don’t want to never speak to you again,” Billy turned and smiled. “Besides, I have a feeling that I might be moving a lot closer to here within the next year or so, and it’ll be nice to have a friend so close when the rest of my friends will be back home.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?”
“That’s what I’d like us to be. And friends give each other their numbers all the time.”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” Steve said. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
He walked over to where the kids were, taking Dustin aside and borrowing his notepad and pen. He scribbled down his number and tore the page out, telling the boys to start saying goodbye to their friend, they were gonna have to leave soon. They all groaned, but did as they were told, and Steve made his way back over to Billy with the paper in his hand.
“We have to get going soon, but here,” he said, handing Billy the paper. “We’ll be back home by tomorrow afternoon, so feel free to call whenever after that.”
“I will,” Billy smiled, then tore the paper in half and pulled out a pen of his own. “I don’t know when we’ll be home, but I’ll call you when we are, and then you can call me whenever, too.” He handed the torn paper he’d scribbled on back to Steve, who folded it neatly and put it safely in his pocket. 
“I will,” Steve patted his pocket, then looked over to the kids again. “I should probably get going. It was really nice to meet you, Billy.”
“Same here, Steve. I’ll talk to you later,” Billy said, waving as Steve walked away.
It took him a few minutes to wrangle the boys over to his car, but when he finally did, they said goodbye to Max and she, Sid and Wayne walked back to where Billy was, the four of them watching Steve drive away.
“So, did you manage to get his number?” Sid asked, a laugh hidden in his voice as Wayne and Max made kissy faces at him.
“Shut up or I’m leaving you all here,” Billy blushed, but he smiled. “And yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
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Of pets, chapter 2/2
For @harringrove-flip-reverse-it day 5, prompt "Dog walks" (SFW prompt made sliiiighty NSFW)
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(Read on AO3) (Chapter 1)
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Jim was on his way home after work. He’d just left the station when he remembered that he’d planned to call Steve and ask him if he could pick El up the following Friday – the kid usually drove some of the boys home, and Jim had had to switch some shifts around and wouldn’t be able to make it.
Not particularly keen on turning back to the station just to use his phone, he decided to swing by instead. Harrington’s house was on the way home anyway, so it would save him time in the end.
Pulling up to the house, he parked on the side of the road – he would hopefully be out of there quickly – and walked down the long driveway to the house. He couldn’t see Harrington’s BMW around, but the door to the double garage was closed so the empty driveway didn’t mean that the kid wasn’t home.
He walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. As he stepped back and prepared to wait for someone to open, he heard what sounded like a muffled thud and something like a shout coming from somewhere inside the house. Now, Jim was a cop – a good cop. So when those sounds weren’t immediately followed by footsteps, he frowned and reached for the gun in his belt.
“Harrington?” he called. “You good?”
When there was no reply, he pulled his gun out and tried the door. It was unlocked, so he carefully made his way inside.
His trained senses catalogued everything that was out of the ordinary; there were a pair of beat-up Chucks haphazardly kicked off by the door, at the end of a neat row of more expensive sneakers. There was a jean jacket that was fraying at the seams hanging on a hook, which Jim had never seen Steve wear. And a glance into the kitchen showed two empty glasses and a pair of soda cans on the counter by the sink.
All these things pointed to another person being in the house. It could just be a friend, but Jim would rather be safe than sorry. Besides, if Steve was hanging out with a friend, why didn’t he reply?
“Steve?” Jim called again and made his way to the stairs on silent feet. “Are you in here?”
In the silence that followed, he thought he heard low voices coming from upstairs. When another thud came, he took the stairs two steps at the time. He found himself on the landing, gun at the ready. From here, he could hear hissing and shuffling from what he assumed was Steve’s room – incidentally, also the only room with the door closed.
He walked up to it and – after a brief pause to warn “I’m coming in!” – shouldered the door open.
Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he had to have heard Jim approach, jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around to face him. He was wearing jeans and a shirt with a rumpled collar. His hair was askew, he was barefoot on the carpet, and in his hand he was gripping … a leash.
The other end of the leash disappeared in the crack between the doorway and the closed door to the closet.
Jim’s eyes narrowed.
“Uh, hey Hop!” Steve said, voice cracking. His face was blotchy and red. “I didn’t … hear you there. What’s, uh, what’s up?”
A sound came from the closet, which most resembled a low whine.
“I think I should be asking you that question, son,” Jim said gruffly, but lowered the gun as it didn’t seem like anyone was in immediate danger. He turned his frown on Steve. “What’s going on?”
Steve, wearing the nervous look of any teenager about to lie to the Chief of Police, let out a fake-sounding laugh and said, “Well, I … Uh, you mean this?” He held up the end of the leash that he was still clutching. “I … I told you about my friend’s dog, right?”
“Hargrove’s dog,” Jim confirmed, and didn’t react when a sound came from the closet. “I remember.”
“Well, I’m, uh, dogsitting. And I was … just about to take him for a walk.”
“Uh-huh,” Jim said and raised one eyebrow as he looked Steve up and down, wordlessly drawing attention to the kid’s ruffled appearance. Years of experience had taught him that it was often easier to get a confession if he kept silent. Let the perpetrators talk themselves into a corner.
Steve let out another strained laugh, and attempted to smile. It mostly showed off his teeth. “I … was taking a nap first though. So I was sleeping when you showed up. Just woke up.”
“Uh-huh”, Jim repeated, and couldn’t help himself. “And did you keep the dog in the closet while you slept?” Ignoring the widening of Steve’s eyes, he went on, “Because I’m pretty sure that counts as animal abuse.”
He took a step towards the closet. Steve took a step to the side as if to stop him. Jim’s eyes narrowed further.
“Steve. Who’s in the closet?”
“No, I told you! It’s a … dog.”
So that was the story he was sticking with, huh? Giving the kid one more chance to spill, Jim waited for a second. But when nothing else was spoken, he shrugged as if saying ‘suit yourself’ and went for the closet.
Ignoring Steve’s “No, wait–!” he reached for the handle and pulled the door open.
It was obvious that the kid was trying to hide something, so he was prepared for anything – a shy girlfriend maybe, or a friend trying to hide with the booze, or possibly a real dog that was trapped in a closet – or he thought he’d been prepared for anything. The one thing he hadn’t expected to see was Billy Hargrove staring back at him with wide, fearful eyes.
Billy Hargrove, wearing only a pair of sweatpants – which looked suspiciously like they were worn backwards, like they’d been pulled on in a hurry – and with a leather collar around his neck. A familiar-looking leather collar. Which was what the other end of the leash was attached to.
There were bruises all over Hargrove’s chest. No, wait. On second thought, those were quite obviously hickies.
For a couple of heartbeats, no one moved or even seemed to breathe. Then Jim took decisive action.
By slamming the closet door shut again.
“Nope.”
“Hop –“ Steve started, and there was the same kind of fear in his voice that there had been in Hargrove’s eyes. Jim held up his hand to stop him and shook his head.
“I don’t wanna know.”
“We didn’t ��“
Turning to Steve, Jim caught his eye. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. I don’t wanna know.”
But the kid was too upset to listen. “Please, Hop, don’t –“
Jim reached out and somewhat awkwardly pinched Steve’s lips closed, which shut him up effectively. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Jim said and nodded to the hallway outside the room. “I’m going to go. And you’re going to let … your dog …” A choked sound came from the closet, which Jim bravely ignored, “… out of the closet. Then we’re all going to forget this ever happened, and never speak of it again. Do you understand?”
He let go of Steve and raised his eyebrows until Steve – his face tomato red – nodded and managed a shaky “Yes.”
Clearing his throat, Jim repeated, in a slightly raised voice, “Do you understand?”
A beat, then a subdued and muffled “Yes sir” came from the closet.
“Great,” Jim said, slapping his thighs. “Awesome. All right. Let’s never do this again.”
Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room. He ignored the sound of Steve dashing for the closet and the frantic whispers that followed, and refused to let himself think of the implications of what he had just seen. As well as the implications of his previous interaction with Steve in the pet store. Instead, he walked downstairs, made sure to close the front door after him –making a mental note to tell the kid to lock the doors, goddammit – and then got back in the car.
He was halfway home before he allowed himself to take in the situation, and promptly barked out a laugh. ‘Billy’s dog’, Jim’s ass. And ‘take him for a walk’, sure.
Kids these days, really. They couldn’t even lie properly. Now, Jim would be the first to admit that his teenage years were far behind him, but he remembered being way better at lying than these kids.
He chuckled to himself the whole way back, and it wasn’t until he was back at the cabin that he remembered that he had planned to ask Steve about giving El a ride next Friday. Oh well. He could give the kid a call tomorrow. He had a feeling Steve wouldn’t refuse if he asked for a favor.
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Day 5 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it !! This one is not my favorite, but it is a fun little idea and kind of a crossover between ST and another show that actually aired in the late 80's (and yes, the timeline is a little inaccurate, but we don't care about that here). Also, this one has Billy talking about a dream he had, and when he does, this symbol will show up 💭💭💭. When he is interrupted or stops talking about the dream, this will show up 💥💥💥. Prompt: NSFW - Threesomes Title: Who Said Three is a Crowd? Word Count: 3380 words TWs: Physical violence, talking about past trauma
It was a foggy, sleepy Tuesday morning in Hawkins, Indiana, and Heather Holloway was sitting alone at her desk, trying harder than normal to keep her eyes open. It seemed like the weather had affected everybody’s moods, even the teachers, and there was, for once, hardly any noise in the room at all, even though it was nearly half full of students. Everyone was too tired and grumpy to be as rambunctious as they usually were. Everyone except Billy Hargrove. 
Like a human electrical socket, Billy entered the room and right away people noticed his energy. He seemed upbeat, almost cheerful for once, and he didn’t even glare back at any of the looks people were giving him as he practically floated over to Heather’s desk, pulling out a chair to sit opposite her.
“Someone’s chipper this morning,” Heather yawned as she took the coffee Billy had brought with him. “What happened to you?”
“Oh, nothing,” Billy smiled, not even complaining about the coffee. “I just got a really good sleep last night.”
“I don’t care how good of a sleep you got, nobody, especially you, is this happy this early on a morning like this. There’s more to it, now spill,” Heather insisted, taking out a compact mirror to make sure she didn’t smudge her makeup getting the sleep crust out of her eyes.
“Okay, fine, but you gotta promise not to laugh, okay?” Billy said, dropping his voice a little lower so no one would overhear. “I had this amazing dream last night, and it’s just making me feel so stupidly happy for no reason. Every time I think about it, I get this kinda silly warm feeling that makes my chest all fluttery and I can’t help but smile. Just wait til I tell you.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. It really must’ve been something.”
“It was, but you gotta promise not to laugh, I know it’s silly, but it was great and I want to keep it that way, so no laughing.”
“Okay, okay, I promise I won’t laugh, now start talking!” Heather said, leaning forward to prop herself up on the desk as she listened to her best friend. 
“Okay, so you know that show you and Max like, 21 Jump Street, about those cops who go undercover in schools because they look young?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Okay, so I dreamt that it was a normal day at school for us, right? And then in the middle of the morning, a teacher pulls me aside and says we have a new student that just transferred in, and since he’s gonna join the basketball team, she wanted me to show him around and all that. So I guess I agree because next thing I know, I’m walking down the halls with that guy you and Max like, Hanson, I think?”
“Yeah, Tom Hanson! Oh, he’s so hot, I love him,” Heather sighed dreamily, “I'd let him put me in cuffs anytime he wants!”
“Ew, Heather, gross!” Billy made a face, “But anyway, he was undercover, so he didn’t go by his real name. He and the other guy brought back their characters, the McQuill brothers or whatever.”
“The McQuaid brothers,” Heather corrected, making Billy roll his eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah, now pay attention, this is where it starts to get interesting…”
💭💭💭
“So, what do people do for fun around here?” Tom asked, walking along next to Billy and trying to keep his pace. He had been sent there on an assignment with Doug, trying to find the kids responsible for the after school fight club the administration had reported to Jump Street after some kid had been put in the hospital with a broken arm, and Billy Hargrove was the prime suspect. The kid always came to school with black eyes and split lips, and from what they’d heard before going in, he was almost always itching for a fight with whoever he could get in his crosshairs. There were a few other kids they were looking at, but Billy was at the top of their list, so Tom had been ordered to stick to him like glue and try to get in good with him so he’d be invited to the club and then he could bust him. Doug was trying to buddy up with the two other highest suspects, Steve Harrington and Tommy Hagan, to see if they were involved, too, but as of right now, after a day in classes with them, they had nothing. 
“You know, the usual shit. Parties, pranks and pretty girls. That’s all there is to do in this fucking town, and even that’s not much,” Billy responded, already over this guy. He was trying too hard to be tough, and it was getting on his nerves. 
“Oh yeah? I could use a good party. My Ma moved us out here to get us away from stuff like that, but Doug and I still find ways to get our kicks-”
“Look dude, I don’t care. Just cause I said I’d show you how to get around doesn’t mean I’m gonna be your new best friend, so cut the chit-chat and just keep walking, got it? We’re almost to the gym,” Billy said, rolling his eyes as he turned a corner and led the guy to the locker room. Practice was in ten minutes, and if they weren’t changed and ready to warm up by the time the coach got out there, they’d be in deep shit. 
They managed to get out just in time though, and that’s when Billy saw two people walking towards them, and his heart felt like it stopped dead in his chest. Steve Harrington and a tall, beefy, goofy looking dude were walking up to them, and Billy didn’t know if the feeling in his gut was butterflies fluttering around in there or his organs twisting into knots. Either way, he felt like this was nothing but a trap, and he was all set to high-tail it out of there. The only problem was, his feet felt rooted to the floor, and he had to just stand there and wait as two of the most handsome guys he’d ever seen walked right up to him…
💥💥💥
“I still don’t understand how you think Peter DeLuise is hotter than Johnny freakin’ Depp,” Heather interrupted, shaking her head. 
“What can I say, I’ve got a type, and it’s not vampire-lookin’ motherfuckers with greasy strings for hair,” Billy teased, making a face.
“Oh, excuse-moi! I didn’t realize you preferred Italian meatheads with kicked puppy expressions and barely two brain cells to rub together,” Heather retorted, also making a face as Billy blushed a little. “Oh wait, nevermind, yes I did. Ever since you told me about your crush on Ste-”
“Listen, I didn’t choose for that to be my type!” Billy cut her off, putting his hand over her mouth. “But that’s not important, just keep listening. So, we get to the gym, and they walk up to us, and then Hanson and the other one do their silly little handshake that they do as the McQuaids, and then…”
💭💭💭
“Ey, Tommy, this is Steve, he’s been showin’ me around all day,” Doug said, smacking Steve on the back just hard enough to make him stumble a bit. “Steve, this is my brother, Tommy McQuaid.”
“Hi, Steve Harrington, nice to meet you,” Steve said, in that typical upbeat rich kid way that let everyone know he came from an important family. Billy couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the two of them shook hands.
“Likewise. Doug, this is Billy, the welcome wagon they saddled me with,” Tom replied, not even looking up at Billy as he did, which kind of pissed him off.
“I don’t think ‘saddled’ is necessarily the right word,” Doug said before Billy could even try to think of a comeback, which surprised him a little bit. “At least if you’re around him you won’t have any trouble with the ladies, am I right?”
“Can’t argue with you there,” Tom said, but he still didn’t look up. Billy huffed, but he decided to be the bigger person and let it go. The less trouble he made with this guy, the better off he would be. 
And even if he’d wanted to say something to him, he wouldn’t have had time. The coach blew his whistle, which meant it was time for warm ups, and then practice would be under way. They started with laps around the gym as usual, which Billy hated, but he had to suck it up. Besides, it didn’t last very long, and before he knew it, they were on the court, passing the ball back and forth and trying to gain the upper hand on the other side. He was playing skins, as usual, and he was the king of the court just like any other day. The only difference was that today, he had a new player on his team, one Douglas McQuaid. 
The two of them were a force to be reckoned with. They tore up the court, passing the ball between themselves so seamlessly that the other team didn’t have a prayer of winning. Even the guy’s brother was getting frustrated with him for being so good, the heat in his glare showing a sibling rivalry that was almost as bad as Billy’s with Max. At one point, he even tried stealing the ball from his brother, but that ended in the coach calling a foul, and the brothers ended up in a fistfight over it. It took three guys and the coach to pry them away from each other, and just like that, practice was over…
💥💥💥
“Wait, but why’d they start fighting, exactly?” Heather asked, confused but still highly entertained.
“I don’t know. I think it was because the way we were playing, we never really let anyone else get the ball and he was just tired of it? I don’t know, but it was a dream, it doesn’t exactly have to make sense,” Billy shrugged. 
“Fair point. Continue.”
“Okay, now this is where it starts to get interesting. So, after coach called the end of practice, everyone goes to the showers, except for Doug, he heads for the doors to the alley, right? And I, being the curious and slightly intrigued guy that I am, decide to follow him…”
💭💭💭
By the time Billy got out to the alleyway, two metal trash cans were knocked over and Doug was sitting against a wall, panting and sweating as he tried to calm himself down. He had his shirt back on, so Billy decided to pull his on, too, before going over and sitting down next to him.
“You guys always fight like that?” He asked, pulling out a cigarette and savoring the first inhale before offering it to the other boy.
“Nah, only when he knows he’s wrong and I’m right. If I’m wrong, I’ll admit it, but Tommy’s got too much pride for his own good,” Doug replied, taking a drag before giving the cigarette back. 
“Yeah, I get that. My sister can be a bit pig-headed too sometimes,” Billy shrugged, “But you really oughta stop down at the nurse before you leave. He might’ve broken your nose.”
“I’ll be fine, I’ve dealt with worse. At least it’s not a concussion, I do not wanna go through all that again!” 
“Yeah, I hear that,” Billy sighed, scratching the back of his neck. It was quiet for a few moments, and he was kind of enjoying the silent company of another guy that wasn’t hanging around him out of obligation or a hope for better social status. Still, he didn’t want it to get awkward, so he asked, “How did you get concussed the first time?”
“I uh…” Doug chuckled, “I got in a fight. Some guy at our old school, he was a real jerk, pushed everybody around for the hell of it, thought it was funny. He was younger than we are, but he thought nobody could touch him, so he would go out and pick fights and never expected there to be consequences. So one day, he comes up and starts trying to get into it with me and Tommy. And I mean, we’re the youngest in our family, we got three older brothers, so we know how to handle a physical fight, but this kid, we didn’t think he’d actually do anything once we gave him the stink eye, right? But lo and behold he keeps trying, and finally, I got so tired of it, I shoved him back, and he comes out swingin’ with a right hook. Next thing I know, I’m on a gurney being rushed to the hospital.”
“Jesus, must’ve been one killer of a right hook,” Billy said.
“Yeah, no kidding. It hurt like a bitch, but I was alright. And sometimes pain ain’t that bad, as long as you know how to take it. It’s almost become like a comfort to me, y’know? Like I’ve dealt with it my whole life, so it’s almost natural to try and seek it out sometimes.”
“Yeah, I understand that, too. I do the same thing, seek out pain when I don’t know how else I should deal with something. At least I know if I make someone mad enough to hit me, I know they’ll get it over with quick and then I won’t have to worry about the suspense of what they might do.”
“Yeah, exactly! And it’s always a plus if you can hit back, get some of that anger out that way, too.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Billy said, standing up once his cigarette was finished and stomping on the butt before holding out a hand to the other boy. “C’mon, we better get inside and get our stuff before coach locks up for the night.”
“Okay,” Doug said, taking the offered hand and pulling himself up with it, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Billy replied, leading the way inside.
💥💥💥
“What happened then?” Heather asked, now thoroughly invested in the events of her best friend’s dream. 
“Then it kinda skipped a little, because then it was the next day, and I guess the two cops decided they weren’t getting anything from us, so they decided to switch. Tom went with Steve and Tommy and Doug was with me, and the next thing I knew, it was lunchtime…”
💭💭💭
The lunchroom was crowded, as it always was, and when Doug and Billy entered, paths immediately started to clear for them. They got their food and went to a random table, neither of them really caring where it was. They saw Tom and Steve at a nearby table, but neither of them made a move to go over and sit with them, Billy just not really caring and Doug still a little upset about the fight from yesterday. They were perfectly content with their own company, until they heard a tray slam on the ground, and suddenly, there was a fight starting in the middle of the cafeteria. 
Apparently, when Tom got up to get ketchup for his fries, he ran smack into Jason Carver, who then started getting into it with him for getting food all over him, and before anyone knew what happened, it was an all-out brawl. Just like everybody else, Billy and Doug stood up to try and see what was going on, and when they saw not only Tom in the thick of the fight, but Steve getting involved to try and break it up, they both sprang into action, rushing over to try and help. A few of Jason’s cronies jumped in to help him, and by the time it was said and done, everyone involved was bloody, bruised and breathing heavily, trying to get out of dodge as the principal stormed in. 
“What is going on in here?!” He demanded, looking at the five boys that hadn’t managed to get away. Jason wiped his bloody nose and blamed the whole thing on the other four, but then they all started talking at once, trying to defend themselves and only succeeding in giving the principal a headache. 
“Quiet down, all of you!” He shouted, rubbing his temples, “Look, all of you, come with me, we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
The five boys all nodded and followed the principal, none of them wanting to cause more trouble for themselves than it was worth. The principal was able to figure out who had started the fight from Jason’s accusations, so he told the other three boys to wait in a conference room while he spoke to Jason and Tom, and then he and the other two left.
“This is such bullshit,” Steve groaned as he flopped down in one of the chairs in the room, “We didn’t do anything except try to break it up!”
“Yeah, it’s that blonde kid’s fault!” Doug agreed, following suit and crossing his arms as he sat.
“Then we just tell him that and we should be fine. There was a cafeteria full of witnesses, and besides, the three of us and your brother are all gonna tell the same story, Jason’s will be the only different one, so we should be fine,” Billy said, honestly not too bothered by what’d happened. He had finished his lunch before they were dragged out of the lunchroom, and any excuse to miss bio was okay with him. 
“I guess you’re right,” Doug said, scooching his chair a little closer to Billy’s. Steve did the same, and now they both sat at his sides, probably a little closer than was necessary, but nobody was complaining.
“Y’know, you were awfully brave jumping into that fight when you did,” Steve said, putting his hand on Billy’s knee and leaning even closer.
“Yeah, I mean, Steve and I had a reason to, but you went in to help just because,” Doug agreed, following the action, and Billy had no idea what was happening, but he wasn’t about to complain.
“It was no big deal,” he said, shrugging, looking back and forth between the other two boys.
“Yes it was,” Steve said, and when Billy looked at him again, he leaned in and kissed him. Billy was confused, but he didn’t complain, especially when he felt another pair of lips at his neck, and he felt like he was in heaven. 
After a minute, they switched, Steve kissing at his neck as Billy made out with Doug, and it was amazing. He hoped it would never end, and he seemed to be getting his wish as they kept taking turns kissing him over and over again…
💥💥💥
“Wait, but if the guy’s a cop, why is he making out with a high schooler?” Heather asked, making a face.
“It was a dream, Heather, don’t think too hard about it. Besides, I’m 18 and he’s only, like, 22 or something in the show, that’s not that big a difference. Just let me have this, alright?” Billy sighed, and Heather rolled her eyes.
“Okay, okay, so then what happened? Did it get any juicer, or were you interrupted in flagrante delicto?” She asked, leaning forward again and wiggling her eyebrows.
“Then I woke up,” Billy said, shrugging.
“What?! That’s it?! You can’t do that to me, there has to be more to this!” Heather exclaimed, and Billy had to remind her to keep her voice down.
“No, really, that’s what happened! Believe me, I wish there was more, but unfortunately, if I had slept any longer, I wouldn’t be here telling you about it, so we’re both gonna have to deal.”
“That is the absolute pits,” Heather groaned, flopping over to rest her head on her desk.
“Oh, believe me, I know,” Billy said, tapping a pattern on her desk with his fingers. “I never even got to find out who was running the fight club, imagine how cheated I feel!”
“For that remark alone you owe me more coffee, now pony up, you dork,” Heather griped, stealing his coffee cup again and making Billy roll his eyes affectionately as she downed the rest of it. He didn’t need it this morning, anyway.
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My second post for day 4 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it !! I hope everyone enjoys!!
Prompt: Angst - Self-Sacrifice
Title: I Could Die For You
Word Count: 3764 words
TWs: None
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Dustin yelled as he threw his controller down, the voice on the TV yelling out “Game!”
“Hey, quit throwing the controllers! You don’t need to be a sore loser, Henderson!” Billy chastised, shoving the boy playfully as he pouted. 
“Says the guy who won every round he’s played! I can be as sore as I want!” Dustin said back, pouting even harder as he slumped back on the couch. He truly was a sore loser, but he was right, Billy was really good at this game, and he could’ve held back on the gloating a little bit when he won a few rounds ago, even after El used her powers to hold his hands still for at least a solid minute. 
“Okay, okay, that’s fair, but seriously, dude, it’s just Smash Bros., it’s not that serious,” Billy said, handing the kid back his controller and pressing the button to get to the next round of character selection.
“Yeah, I mean, Steve’s gotten out first in every round, you don’t hear him complaining,” Mike interjected as he swapped places with Lucas. They were taking turns, shifting down the couch after every round so that it was a constant rotation of new players and they could all get a chance to play. After all, they were all excited, the game had only just come out a few days ago, and since Erica’s birthday had just passed, Steve bought a copy for everyone to play on his Wii. 
He’d gotten the system for them two Christmases ago, after all, so whenever a game released that they all wanted, he’d get it for them for a birthday or special event and they’d all break it in by playing it together. It was like tradition at this point, and while everybody typically sucked at first while they first figured out the controls and whatnot, they would all get better as they went and would bond while they shared secrets and tricks to make gameplay easier.
Everyone enjoyed playing, too, though Dustin was a chronic pouter, and sometimes El would cheat, and Steve was so horribly bad at video games that he would lose pretty much everything except Wii Sports Bowling, but aside from that, everyone loved playing together. It was like having their own personal arcade in Steve’s living room, and a catered one at that, since Steve would get tired of losing a few rounds in and would instead make lunch for everyone to keep himself occupied while they continued to play. Sometimes he looked a little sad when he did it, and if so, Billy would quit too, and follow Steve to the kitchen to cheer him up about his lack of gaming skills by any means necessary. It typically wasn’t too hard, Steve didn’t really take the games too seriously anyway, but still, Billy knew it still had to hurt. Especially when the kids would make fun of him relentlessly if and when they kicked his ass. 
“Hey, quit pickin’ on your babysitter. We’re all still just learning the ropes, and not everything comes easily to people who have better things to do than spend half their life in a sticky, smelly arcade,” Billy scolded Mike, who just rolled his eyes and flopped down on one of the other chairs in the room. 
“No, he’s right, I suck. Here, Will, you come play, I’ll just go and order a pizza for us, m’kay?” Steve said, trying to pass his controller off to Will, but Billy shook his head.
“Fuck that, he’s not right, and you don’t suck. C’mon, just finish your rotation, and if you really wanna quit, you can. You only have two more games left. Please?” Billy asked, making those eyes that he knew would get Steve on board immediately. It worked like a charm, and Steve sighed before settling back in on the couch and picking a new character. 
Billy, Lucas and Dustin also selected their characters, and once that was done, it went on to stage selection. They’d already unlocked most of them, and so far, they’d just been hitting the random selection button so that they’d be surprised at the beginning of every round, but this time, Billy didn’t press that button, and instead he turned to Steve.
“You pick the level. Maybe that’ll help improve your luck,” he said, ignoring the kids as they said that that wasn’t fair. 
“Um, I guess do the one with the weird ladybug thing on it,” Steve said, pointing to the bottom of the screen. 
“Distant Planet it is,” Billy said, pressing the button to start the game and smiling as everyone got ready. The deep voice of the game’s narrator came through, counting down from three until it finally let them start fighting, and then, it was every man for themself. Well, almost.
See, Billy knew he had to get Steve to win one of these games to get his confidence up, that way he’d want to keep playing and actually start to enjoy it, so he had a plan. He’d take the kids out first, go easy on Steve, and when it was just them left, he’d pretend he lost by accident so that Steve would win. They only had three lives each, and they kept items on, so final smash combos were still possible, but it wouldn’t be too hard for Billy to kick the kids’ asses and then let Steve win. 
The level was kind of a tough one, honestly, based off of the Pikmin games from the Game Cube, and not only could you just fall off the edge if you weren’t careful, but there was a ledge that would flood and create a waterfall you could get swept up in if it started raining, and the weird ladybug things that Steve had mentioned were Bulborbs, creatures from the Pikmin universe that would pretty much instantly kill you if you got trapped in it’s mouth. Still, Steve was pretty good at staying on the maps by himself and not falling off, as long as no one pushed him, so all Billy had to do was keep the kids away from him and it’d be a cakewalk to let him win. 
It actually went pretty well, at first. Lucas was playing as Link from the Legend of Zelda games, Dustin was Bowser from the Mario games, Billy was Mr. Game & Watch from one of the first Nintendo systems, and Steve was Kirby, obviously from the Kirby games. All of them were good character choices, but Billy knew his was the best for this round, since he had a lot of really good, complex moves that he could use to easily confuse and K.O. the other players. 
He went for Dustin first, knowing that he would be the less likely of the two to show Steve some mercy, and easily blew him off the screen within the first minute of play. As soon as he respawned, Billy went after him again, ignoring the kid’s complaints that he was targeting him specifically and kicking his ass right into the falling water, washing him off the screen again and taking his second life. He only had one left, so Billy switched gears and started to target Lucas, easily knocking him off the edge and leaving room for Steve to try and take the final smash power up. 
This was when the plan started to fall apart, because just as Steve was about to get the final smash, Dustin came out of nowhere and stole it from him, using it to K.O. all three of them. Billy shook it off, both he and Steve still had two lives left, Dustin and Lucas only had one each, so he still figured he could do it. Only problem was, while he was taking Dustin’s last life by hitting him with a power up, Lucas somehow managed to blow Steve off the map, leaving both of them with only one life and Billy with two. Still, Billy felt like he could do this. 
He fell off the edge to level the playing field a little, and then decided it was time to go after Lucas with everything he had. He pelted him with items, tried to take both of them off the map just by simply falling, and was using every tactic and skill he had to figure out how to get Steve to win. And finally, he saw an opportunity, as a Bulborb came up on the side of the screen, just behind Lucas. Steve was floating in the air, so Billy figured it was safe to rush at Lucas, easily knocking him into the Bulborb’s mouth, but the only problem was, just as he did, Steve fell down from the air, Kirby had been floating for too long, and had gotten pushed into the creature, too. It carried them both off the map, much to Billy’s horror, and the narrator’s voice once again called out, “Game!” 
“The winner is…” the voice continued, “Mr. Game & Watch!” as the characters reappeared on the screen, the other three clapping as Billy’s character did a little victory pose. 
“That was so unfair! You so cheated!” Dustin accused, but Billy didn’t pay him any mind. All he could see was the sadness in Steve’s eyes as he watched the screen, obviously upset at having made it so far only to die right at the last second. He had actually started enjoying the game as he got closer and closer to victory, and Billy had accidentally snatched it all away right at the buzzer. That must’ve absolutely crushed him.
“Nobody cheated, Dustin, that was just a hard stage,” Steve said, sighing as he stood and placed his controller on the coffee table. “It’s the end of your rotation anyway, you’ll do better the next time you’re in, but for now, you swap with Will. Oh, and Max, why don’t you take my last game, I gotta go pick up the pizzas anyway. I don’t really feel like playing anymore.”
“What, no! You said you’d stick it out until your last game!” Billy said, giving Max a look that told her not to go for the controller left on the table. It wasn’t her turn yet.
“Really, Bill, I don’t want to play anymore. I just need a break, that’s all. Maybe I’ll jump back in later, but I’m okay with just watching for now.”
“But that’s not the way we do it here! Everyone has to play to the end of their rotation, that’s the rules,” Billy said, standing and crossing his arms. He knew he was probably making this a bigger deal than it needed to be, but he wanted Steve to enjoy playing with them, otherwise he might stop altogether, even when new games came out. He had to get Steve to play and win this last round, but Steve was giving him a look like he was getting really annoyed, so Billy had to think of something, and quick. “You know what, you’re right. A break does sound pretty good right about now. How about this, Byers, Sinclair and I will go pick up the pizzas, and you and the rest of the kids stay here and get drinks and other snacks ready. Then maybe once we all eat and take a breather, we can finish playing, alright? Is that a good plan?”
Steve sighed, “I guess so. C’mon guys, turn off the TV and help me set the table.”
“Good,” Billy smiled, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. “Byers, Sinclair, you’re with me. Let’s get a move on, huh?”
Will and Lucas gave each other a kind of funny look, but both of them shrugged and got up to follow Billy to his car. They got in the back and waited as Billy pulled out of Steve’s driveway, and once Billy turned the music down, they started asking questions.
“So, why did you want us specifically to come help you with the pizza?” Lucas asked, crossing his arms and staring at Billy through the rearview mirror.
“Because I have a proposition for you,” Billy said, glancing back at the two every so often. “After lunch, when we start playing that game again, it’ll be us three and Steve. I want you two to throw the game so that Steve can win for once.”
“Why do you want us to let him win?” Will asked, blinking those big brown eyes in confusion.
“Because he sucks at that game, and he’s getting really frustrated with it. But he sucks at every other game too, so if we start letting him quit now, he might start quitting other games, and then he’ll just stop playing with us at all because he’ll feel like he can never beat us. We gotta let him win every once in a while so that he genuinely likes the games we’re playing and then he’ll keep playing with us,” Billy explained, pulling into the parking lot of the pizza place and turning around to face the kids before getting out. “So, here’s the plan. After lunch, I’ll talk him into finishing his rotation, and then we’ll play. We’ll all choose characters we suck as, and we’ll pick a stage with minimal hazards so that he doesn’t die accidentally. Then, we die as subtly as we can, come after each other and avoid Steve as much as we can, fall off edges, and let him get as many K.O.s as we can without making it suspicious. Then, when it’s all said and done, he’ll win and we get to keep him playing with us. Can we do that?”
“But that takes all the fun out of playing!” Lucas complained.
“C’mon man, think of how much fun it’ll be if Steve stops buying new games because he knows he’ll suck and so he doesn’t see the point in buying new games for us anymore!”
“I mean, I want to make Steve happy, but won’t it be, like, super obvious if we all just start to suck out of nowhere?” Will asked, and Billy groaned.
“It doesn’t matter! He won’t even notice, I promise you, he’ll just be happy he won!”
“But what if your idea doesn’t work and he stops playing anyway?” Lucas asked, and finally Billy had it.
“Look, that won’t happen, but if you guys won’t do it out of love for Steve, how about I give you each five bucks to throw the game?” Billy asked, taking out his wallet to show he was serious.
“Make it ten,” Lucas said, giving him a smug smirk as he held out his hand.
“You’ve been hanging out with Max too long, you little pirate,” Billy muttered under his breath, but he took two tens out of his wallet and gave one to each of the boys. That seemed to seal the deal, and once they got the pizzas home and everyone had eaten, he and both boys went to Steve and practically begged him to finish out his turn. Now that he’d eaten and had some time to breathe, Steve joined back in, and Billy was so excited he practically skipped over to the TV to turn it back on. He also fiddled with the settings quickly before anyone could see and set it so that only easy levels would be selected when he chose the random button, and he quickly set the screen back to normal before anyone else got into the room.
“You guys ready?” He asked when everyone had chosen a character, and everyone had said yes, so he continued on to stage selection. He chose random, and the stage selector put them in the Green Hill Zone stage from the Sonic the Hedgehog games. Billy was perfectly happy with this, as there weren’t many ways to fall off of edges, and it didn’t move, so it was free of most distractions. This was gonna be easy.
The narration voice counted down from three again as their characters showed up on the screen, and then, it was on. Billy was playing as R.O.B., an old accessory turned character from the NES system, Lucas was Pikachu from the Pokemon series, Will was the Ice Climbers from the NES game of the same name, and Steve had chosen another Kirby character, this time going with Meta Knight. It was quite the accumulation of characters, but it was half the fun of this game to see these random characters thrown together into a whole new game. 
And just like that, they were under way. It was actually surprisingly easy for the three of them to avoid hitting Steve and still make it convincing that they were trying, maybe because they chose characters they hated, but mostly because they were trying. Lucas managed to K.O. Billy after a few minutes by hitting him with an item, and Will, who was not great at keeping away from edges, fell through the ground when part of it disappeared. Steve got a K.O. of Will too after one too many hits, which sent him flying off the screen. Now that they had each lost one of their lives, Lucas went after Steve to make it look convincing, and though he managed to get close, he stopped just before he took one of his lives, and instead turned on Billy, who’d been attacking him as he attacked Steve. 
The land regenerated as Will respawned, and he and Lucas went for Billy, managing to get another K.O. after on him after pushing him into a checkpoint, which then threw him off screen. Steve also managed to get a K.O. on Lucas after diving at him and both of them ending up going too far off screen, leaving everyone with only one life except Steve, who now had two. To make it look good, after Will was K.O.’d by Lucas again, Billy went after Steve, getting one more of his lives before managing to take Lucas’s last one, and then it was just them, left with one life each. 
The end was surprisingly easy to fake, as Steve was safe on one side of the stage and Billy on the other, the ground giving out between them as they charged at each other, and after jumping over the pit to Billy’s side, Steve managed to push him into the pit. Now, normally it’s not too hard to get out of a pit in Super Smash Bros., but anyone who’s ever played as R.O.B. will tell you, he is not the easiest character to control, and seeing as how that’s the case, Billy was able to make a big show of trying to get out of the hole, smashing buttons with all his might as he tried to jump out.
“Fuck fuck fuck, shit, no! Goddammit!” He pretended to get upset, groaning and tossing his arms up in frustration as he finally fell into the pit, losing his last life and ending the round as the narrator called out “Game!”
“The winner is…” it kept going, “Meta Knight!”
“Yes!!” Steve jumped up, throwing his arms up in victory and basking in the cheers and claps of the other kids. “Did you guys see that?! I got so many K.O.’s! I can’t believe it! I won!”
“Yeah!”
“Go Steve!”
“You finally won!”
The kids kept cheering as Steve did a little victory dance, and Lucas, Will and Billy had to turn away to hide their smiles and try to keep up the charade of being upset at losing. Still, they couldn’t help it, and finally, they stopped pouting and just celebrated with him. 
“Okay, okay, that’s enough, the neighbors will start complaining about all the noise if we don’t quiet down,” Steve said after a while, setting his controller down on the coffee table and letting Max take his spot on the couch. Billy followed suit, even though he technically still had one game left, but he wasn’t a chronic quitter, so he could break the rules this one time and hand his controller off to Erica after fixing the stage settings. After that, he followed Steve into the kitchen, not saying a word as he started helping him clean up from lunch, putting the leftovers into the fridge and piling dishes in the sink.
“Whatever happened to ‘you have to finish your rotation, no exceptions’, huh?” Steve asked as he took up the spot next to Billy at the sink, grabbing a towel to dry as Billy washed.
“Eh, my hands started cramping after trying to get out of that pit, plus I don’t quit often, it’s only this one time,” Billy said, nudging Steve with his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes. They worked in relative silence for a while, the only sounds being the running water and the kids making noise in the other room, but for the most part they were quiet until Steve turned to look at Billy, a knowing look on his face.
“You threw the game, didn’t you?” He asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes with a playful smirk.
“I did not!” Billy denied, but Steve raised his eyebrow, and Billy just couldn’t lie to that face. “Okay, maybe I did, but I just wanted you to win for once so that you wouldn’t stop playing with us, is that so terrible?”
“I knew it!” Steve said, smacking Billy lightly with the dish towel. “But you know I’d still play with you guys even if I lost every time, right?” 
“Yeah, but you’d get tired of losing eventually and I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t quit for good,” Billy said, flicking some bubbles at Steve in retaliation. 
“I wouldn’t do that. Losing is annoying, but as long as the kids are having fun-”
“But you need to have fun, too! That’s the point of multiplayer games, that everybody has fun, it’s not fair if only some people have fun and not everybody else,” Billy said, then sighed, “Look, just promise me that you won’t quit before you find another game that you’re really good at, okay?”
“Hey, I’ve got my Wii Sports, I’m good to go,” Steve smiled, brushing some of Billy’s hair out of his face before going in for a kiss. He readily accepted it, and smiled right along with him as they heard Erica starting to gloat about kicking everyone’s ass from out in the living room. 
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Day 4 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it !! So excited excited this one and the next one I post for this day, I hope everyone enjoys them!!
Prompt: NSFW - Collar and Leash
Title: Puppy Love
Word Count: 1285 words
TWs: None
Billy should’ve known better than to send Steve to the store by himself. But he’d had a long day at work, and all he wanted to do was come home, shower and take a long nap before dinner, so when Steve offered to go get the groceries and pick up a pizza on the way home, it sounded too good to be true. And Billy knew Steve’s affinity for picking up things they really didn’t need, but he figured a few extra bags of snacks and maybe something new to try wouldn’t be so bad if he got some extra time to relax, and so he agreed.
When he woke up almost four hours later, though, he started to regret it. How Steve could spend four hours at the grocery store for one order of regular groceries, he’d never know, but somehow, anything seemed possible with his fiance. He wouldn’t be surprised if Steve came home with a mariachi band following him at this point. So, instead of worrying about him, he just sat down on the couch and watched some TV until he heard Steve’s car coming up the driveway.
“Hey, babe,” he called, not looking up from his comfy spot on the couch, “Do you need help bringing the bags in?”
“Um, no, I’m good! You just relax, okay?” Steve called back, but it was odd. Something in his voice made him sound nervous, and it made Billy a little suspicious. Had he really gone that far over budget? 
“Alright,” Billy said, shrugging, “I had to piss anyway.”
Steve nodded and went back out to the car to get the next round of bags and bring them inside, and when he did, Billy got up and went to the bathroom. He did his business and then went back out to the kitchen, starting to look for the pizza Steve said he’d pick up on his way home. He was also poking around in the bags a bit, hoping to see what all Steve had gotten that hadn’t been on the list, but instead of three different kinds of Doritos, he found something that was the absolute last thing he’d ever expect. There was a black studded dog collar in there, as well as a matching leash, and Billy could not believe that that was what he was holding in his hands. Not that he and Steve were particularly vanilla when it came to sex, but most of the time they’d at least have a conversation first before trying anything new, and this was absolutely coming out of left field. Then again, maybe he was intending on talking about it still, but had just gone out and got something in advance, but that was unlikely. When it came to things like this, he really wasn’t one to buy something before they’d agreed to try it, so seeing a collar and leash in the shopping bag had left Billy in complete shock.
“Oh, shit,” Steve said, making Billy whirl around to look at him, “You weren’t supposed to see that yet.”
“Um, yeah, what exactly is this for?” Billy asked, not sure whether he should laugh or what.
“Okay, don’t get mad,” Steve said, holding up his hands to tell Billy to wait. He did, and Steve went out to the car one last time. When he came back, he was holding something behind his back, and he stepped up close to Billy, a sheepish smile on his face as he brought his hands forward. In them was a puppy, a runty little thing with a smushed little face, a stubby little tail, and more fat rolls than a depressed alcoholic. 
“Stephen, what the fuck is that?” Billy asked, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 
“I said don’t get mad! Look, I went to the grocery store and it was starting to rain and he was in a soggy cardboard box by the door, shivering like a leaf in the wind. He was the only one left in the box, and it said ‘free’ on it, but nobody wanted him! Not even little kids were stopping to look at him! And I couldn’t just leave him there, so I brought him inside, did the shopping, and then I took him to the vet to make sure he was okay before coming home,” Steve explained, cuddling the puppy close to his chest. 
“Steve, neither one of us has ever had a pet. We don’t know the first thing about taking care of a dog, and besides, what if he’s got, like, diseases or something?” Billy asked, unsure of what else to say. They couldn’t keep the dog, and that was final.
“Not true! I knew to take him to the vet, who said he was perfectly fine except being a little underfed, by the way, and I mean, how hard could it be? We just feed him, walk him, keep him alive and maybe do a little extra cleaning if he makes a mess. Trust me, babe, I can handle this. I used to babysit six kids at once during my teen years, this is nothing compared to that!” Steve begged, and Billy had to admit, he had a point. “Come on, pleeeeease?”
At this point, the little roll of fat in Steve’s arms was not the only one making big, sad eyes at Billy, and it was starting to tear down his resolve. He had always been more of a cat person, but it was a close race, and he supposed that maybe taking care of the little thing wouldn’t be so bad. It’d be a hell of a lot easier than taking care of Max, and at least a puppy couldn’t mouth off if he didn’t like what Billy had to say. Still, he wasn’t going to give up just like that.
He waited a minute with a raised eyebrow, giving Steve a look, but after a few seconds, he just couldn’t say no. Damn those puppy eyes, they practically had him in the palm of their hands. Or, well, paws. 
“Okay, fine! You can keep him,” Billy said, tossing his hands in the air and rolling his eyes just to be dramatic. Steve smiled so hugely that it filled up his whole face, and he did a few little happy jumps as he hugged the puppy, giggling like a little kid. Billy smiled too, shaking his head as Steve danced the puppy around the room.
“So, what are you gonna name him?” Billy asked, leaning against the counter.
“I dunno,” Steve said, finally calming down and bringing the puppy over to Billy. “I kinda think he looks like a Francis. What do you think?”
“I think Francis sounds like the name of a pompous old man, but I’ll settle for Frankie,” Billy smiled, using one finger to gently pet the dog’s little head. 
“That’s perfect,” Steve beamed. “Thank you for letting me keep him.”
“You know I can’t say no to those eyes,” Billy teased, giving Steve a kiss on the forehead. “Now, on to more important things. Where’s that pizza you promised? I’m starving!”
“Oooh, yeah, about that…” 
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“No! I, uh, just wanted it to be fresh! I’ll go order now, you take Frankie,” Steve said, handing the dog off to Billy as he went for the phone.
“Y’know, you’re awfully cute, but you’re going to render that man absolutely useless from now on,” Billy said to him, laughing both at the kisses the dog was now lavishing him with and the annoyed shout from Steve from the other room. Now that he was thinking about it, maybe having a dog wouldn’t be so bad.
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Of pets, chapter 1/2
For @harringrove-flip-reverse-it day 4, prompt "Collar and leash" (NSFW prompt made SFW)
~~~
“Have you gotten a dog?”
Jim hadn’t meant to startle the kid, but Steve Harrington jumped about a foot in the air and let out a noise that was best described as a squeak at his innocent question. Whirling around so he was face to face with Jim – or, rather, face to chest; Jim was very well aware of his size – he looked even more startled when he saw who was there. Jim nodded meaningfully at the leather collar Steve was still holding.
“Oh,” Steve said, eyes wide and unblinking. “No? I mean, yes. It’s for Billy–“ His eyes widened a bit more and he added, almost shouting, “–s dog! Billy’s dog!”
“Hargrove?” Jim asked, and watched as Steve’s head bobbed up and down in something akin to a nod. “I didn’t know you were friends.”
“Oh, we are. Friends. The best of friends, nowadays, actually.” Steve pointed to himself with a thumb and grinned somewhat unsteadily. “Yup, all those bygones are … under the bridges.” He made some vague gestures with the hand that was still holding the collar, which brought both of their attention to said collar. Steve let out a little sound that sounded suspiciously like a ‘meep’ and hurried to lower his hand. When he spoke again, his voice was a little strained. “Sooo, what are you doing here?”
Jim sighed. “El wants a hamster.”
“A … hamster.”
“Yeah. Someone’s been telling her stories about the merits of having a pet, and since I’m not letting her start out with a cat or a dog, and she vetoed fish since they’re apparently ‘too boring’, here we are.” He indicated the store around them; shelves upon shelves of pet-related items. “Figures, right? The closest pet store around, and it’s two towns over. Gotta say, I didn’t expect to run into you here.”
“Yeah,” Steve said, his smile just a tad too wide. “What a coincidence.”
“I didn’t know the Hargroves had a dog. I haven’t heard Max mention it, and I’m sure El would have insisted on a pet earlier if she had.”
“It’s … uh, new. And not really, uh, a sure thing, just yet.” At Jim’s look, Steve took a deep breath and continued, “It’s … He found it.”
“Found it?”
“Yeah. It’s a stray, um, he found it out by the … by the junk yard. He’s thinking of maybe … keeping it.” Jim’s mind flashed to images of demodogs and four-legged faceless monsters as Steve obliviously continued, “I offered to help with some, uh, with some things.” The kid held up the collar with a sheepish smile, waving it around a little. Then he took a deep breath and started saying, “Well, I should probably –“
Shaking away the image of monsters, Jim offered, “You know, I used to have a dog when I was younger. A German Shepard, great dog.” Bessie. She’d been Jim’s best friend for a good while. “I could give you guys a few pointers if you want.”
“Oh god.”
“What?”
“I said, ‘oh good’.”
“Oh. Well, first of all, what kind of dog is it?”
Steve’s whole face was looking strained at this point. “We don’t know.”
Jim had to frown at that. “You don’t know?”
“No, it’s a … mutt. Like a wild dog probably.” He grimaced as if he regretted his words, but twisted it into a smile almost seamlessly. “But hey, you know how Billy is! With challenges, I mean. He, uh. Really wants to, um. Help that dog.”
At the mention of a wild dog, Jim’s eyebrows drew together further, because he’d honestly had enough of ‘wild dogs’ to last him a lifetime. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice as he asked, “It’s not some kind of … monster dog, is it?” It probably wasn’t, but kids these days were stupid – proven by the Henderson kid – so he felt he had to ask.
Taken aback at the – honestly valid - question, Steve shook his head. “No! No no. No monster … dog.”
“Hmm,” Hopper said with a nod. “Still, a wild dog can be dangerous. You shouldn’t approach it alone, it can bite you if it feels cornered.”
“Oh, uh,” Steve said, “don’t worry about it. It’s a … good dog. Just an overgrown puppy, really. All he needs is some … love and affection.” He paused a bit, and then added, “And food.” Then, after a beat and under his breath, “And like … someone to play with, I guess.”
“Hm,” Jim said again. He nodded to the collar in Steve’s hand. “Well, if you do catch it, make sure you keep it collared. You should probably invest in a leash as well,” Steve made a choked noise. “You don’t want it running away from you. And I don’t need another feral thing running around town.”
“Yup. Yup. Understood.” Steve yanked down the closest leash and held it up with the collar. “Well, that’s my shopping done. I should really get going, wanna get home before it gets … dark.” He cleared his throat. “So I’m gonna.” Pointing at the front of the store, he nodded again, slightly resembling a bobblehead. “Go. I’m gonna go.” He’d been backing up while he was talking, and when he reached the end of the aisle he threw up a pair of fingerguns. “Good luck with the hamster!”
He’d barely dashed out of sight when Jim called after him, “Get some treats, too! It’ll help with training your mutt.”
Another choked noise was his only answer.
What a weird kid.
(On AO3) (Chapter 2)
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: riff on snow white, Fantasy AU, Angst, the cursed character is dead for all intents and purposes Summary:
An apple is all it takes to tear Steve and Billy apart.
For day 2 of the @harringrove-flip-reverse-it event!
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For the @harringrove-flip-reverse-it day 3, prompt: "spa day" (very loosely interpreted/incorporated)
(turning a fluff prompt into angst, which incidentally is my specialty)
~~~
Jim was tired.
It had been a long night, following a long day, following a couple of equally long days actually, and unfortunately the only thing that hadn’t been long lately had been Jim’s sleep. Which so far was nonexistent. After everything – after monster dogs invading town and El coming back looking like a little punk rocker and her then proceeding to close a gate to another dimension with her mind – they’d gotten back to Joyce’s house to make sure everyone was okay. But ‘everyone’ – meaning El’s little friends and the Harrington boy – hadn’t even been there. Because they’d been doing the exact opposite of what Jim had told them to do, which was to stay put and out of danger.
In all fairness, they had set the hub on fire, which probably helped in the end, but still. Did no one respect authority anymore? Jim was the Chief of Police, he was the highest authority there was in town. Except for the Mayor maybe, but the Mayor was a big bag of dicks, so he didn’t count.
Point was, that all Jim had wanted to do was to go home and sleep for a week, but instead he had to wait until everyone got back – Joyce and her boys (with Will thankfully Mindflayer-free, or so it seemed) as well as the Wheeler girl, and Harrington and the kids – and then spend the next couple of hours trying to bring everyone down from the high they were on, as well as coming up with some kind of story that would sound plausible if anyone asked where they’d all been.
And people would ask. Given, this was Hawkins, but when a group of kids stay out all night without letting their parents know, said parents were surely going to be worried about them. And like previously stated, Jim was the Chief of Police, and he would be the one they would turn to. So he might as well nip it in the bud.
So, despite his exhaustion, he left El with Joyce and her boys, and herded the kids into his car to drive them home. Well, the younger kids, at least. Harrington insisted that he didn’t have to go to the hospital, and while Jim wasn’t convinced – because the kid looked beat to hell – Wheeler said that she’d drive him home and keep an eye on him until the morning. Check for a concussion, wake him up during the night and all that. And while Jim would normally not let that fly, he’d had a long day and it still wasn’t over. So he nodded, told himself he would check on the kid in the morning, and then got in his car – which was full of loud, high-strung children.
Jim started the car, silently wishing he’d made a different career choice years ago.
He dropped the kids off one by one, and followed each and every one of them to the door to explain their absence to their worried parents. He tried to keep it short, for the most part:
It had all been a misunderstanding. The kids had been playing at young Will’s house, and yes of course his mother had been home. But Will had gotten sick, suddenly, and she’d had to drive him to the hospital. Her phone broke a while ago and she hadn’t had time to get a new one, so there hadn’t been a way for them to reach anyone. On the way to the hospital, she’d spotted Steve Harrington and asked him to watch the kids until she got back. She’d called Jim from the hospital once she knew that her son was going to be okay, asking him to drive the kids home. Yes, Will was going to be okay. No, no one was hurt. It had all been just a case of miscommunication and bad circumstances, and maybe the details could wait until it wasn’t the middle of the night – or rather, early morning? Perfect. You’re welcome. Get some sleep now. All right, bye bye.
For every house he visited, it became harder and harder to keep the smile on his face. His headache got worse, and by the time it was only him and Max Mayfield left in the car, he was driving one-handedly and massaging his temple with the other hand, hoping for some relief. Thankfully, she was the least loud out of all of them and didn’t seem inclined to strike up a conversation when it was just the two of them.
But that wasn’t the only reason why he’d saved her for last. No, the real reason why he’d dropped off all the other kids first was because he knew he needed to deal with her brother, too. Or step-brother, as she insisted on calling him. Because it had become apparent that William Hargrove – Billy – was the reason why the Harrington kid had looked the way he did. Jim hadn’t ironed out all the details yet, but from what Harrington and the kids enthusiastically told him, Hargrove had shown up to pick Max up and then proceeded to start a fight, and had beat Harrington unconscious before Max had stabbed him with a syringe in order to knock him out.
Which. On the one hand, Jim wanted to congratulate her on her quick thinking, but on the other hand, it had been incredibly dangerous and someone could have died. But in the end no one did die – Hargrove had been gone when the rest of them got back to the house – and since Jim was already exhausted, he decided to simply … not comment on the girl’s actions. For now.
But he still had to deal with Hargrove. Because while giving his step-sister a ride home was okay, barging in and starting a fight with the only semi-adult person there and beat him half to death was not, and Jim needed to make that clear. To Hargrove himself, and also to the boy’s parents. And while he could simply … pick the kid up from school or from home tomorrow, drive him down to the station, threaten to press charges to put the fear of God in him … Jim would rather do it now. Get it over with. Besides, he needed to drop Max off anyway, he might as well kill two birds with one stone.
And then finally go home and get a few hours of rest.
It was more morning than night when he pulled up in front of the house that Max had directed him to, but unsurprisingly the lights were still on in the house. There was only one car in the driveway, and since Billy Hargrove’s car was still at the Byers’ house, Jim figured it must belong to the father. Neil Hargrove, if his memory served him right.
He didn’t even have time to knock on the door before it flew open, and a tall red-haired woman pulled Max into her arms without so much as a look Jim’s way.
“Max!” she gasped. “Where have you been, we’ve been so worried about you!” Without waiting for a reply, she backed up to get a good look at her daughter again. “Are you okay?” At a nod from Max, she pulled the girl into her arms again with something akin to a sob of relief.
Jim looked away from the emotional scene and instead he locked eyes with the man he just noticed standing there.
“You must be Mr. Hargrove,” Jim said and held out his hand. The man eyed his uniform for a moment, before reaching out for a surprisingly firm handshake. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Jim Hopper, Chief of Police.”
“Oh, has something happened?” the woman, Max’s mother, asked from where she’s standing, her arms around Max’s shoulders. Jim launched into the same story that he told the other parents, but kept it more professional since he hadn’t actually met these people before. They didn’t know him. And besides, he needed to make it clear that he was here in an official capacity, for the next part.
“Say, Mr. Hargrove,” Jim said after the woman has thanked him and taken her daughter into the house, “your son, William … Is he home?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
“Well,” Jim said, “apparently he got into a fight with a classmate tonight.” Keeping his words intentionally neutral, he tried to gauge the man’s reactions. Was he the kind of man who would listen, or the kind of man who would jump to his kid’s defense without listening to facts?
Thankfully, it seemed to be the first one. Hargrove Senior took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “What happened?” He sounded like a man who has gone through the same thing several times already, and Jim felt a sting of sympathy. Being a parent wasn’t always an easy job, that’s for sure.
“Well, I wasn’t there for it myself, but from what they’ve told me, William got aggressive and when he was told to leave, he forced his way into the house. Attacked one of the kids first –“ He shook his head and held up a hand in a calming gesture as Mr. Hargrove opened his mouth to speak, “– the boy wasn’t hurt, don’t worry, just frightened. But your son’s classmate – who was there to babysit them while Mrs. Byers took her son to the hospital – intervened, and … Well. William beat him. Badly.”
He made sure not to mention the syringe, and didn’t mention the drugging. Hoping against hope that the kid hadn’t already told his family about that part.
“The other boy,” Mr. Hargrove said. “How is he?”
“Steve Harrington. Well, he didn’t want to go to the hospital, but he probably should have. They tell me he was actually unconscious for some time.”
“Harrington?” The man frowned, and Jim could understand his concern. Even someone new in town would have heard about the Harringtons.
“Listen,” Jim said. “I don’t know if Steve will want to press charges, but I would like to talk to your son for a bit. Is he awake?”
Mr. Hargrove worked his jaw, but gave a sharp nod. He didn’t invite Jim in, but left the door open while he went back into the house and opened the first door on the right. Jim heard low voices and some scuffling, before Mr. Hargrove emerged, holding a young man by the scruff of his neck. With the boy’s head downturned and his face hidden behind tousled hair, and the way his clothes were rumpled, Jim guessed that he’d been yanked out of bed. Mr. Hargrove brought his son before him and gave his shoulder a little shake.
“William Hargrove?” Jim said, just for confirmation, and prepared to launch into a stern but shortened lecture when the boy looked up at him with wide eyes and gave a single nod.
Or, well. One eye was wide open, at least. The other one was almost entirely swollen shut, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Out of the things Jim could see, the kid had – besides the damaged eye – a split in his very swollen lower lip, bruises on his jaw and cheekbone, and a split in one of his eyebrows, which still looked fresh. Must have re-opened when his dad pulled him out of bed.
In short; the kid looked like shit. Equally as messed-up as Harrington, if not more. Jim felt a stab of irritation; he wished someone would have mentioned that fact before he showed up at the Hargrove house, instead of making it sound as if the kid had whaled on Harrington without Harrington getting a single hit in. That had obviously not been the case; Harrington had given as good as he got. Jim just wished he’d been better prepared for it.
But he was nothing if not adaptable, so he gave a grim little smile. “Looks like you’ve had an eventful night too, kid.”
(Read the rest on AO3)
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My next submission for day two of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it ! This one is a mood board and a little drabble.
Prompt: Trope Subversion - Arranged Marriage
Title: Say You Will
Rating: G
Word Count: 152
Steve’s newest modeling job is full of surprises.
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Steve probably should’ve paid more attention when his agent was explaining his newest job.
He’d only heard “new wedding line” and was expecting a normal shoot modeling a few different formal suits, and maybe posing with another model wearing some white gowns. It was only a little bit surprising that the other model ended up being another man, Steve had recently come out to the public so it made sense.
What really shocked him was the fact that it was his old high school rival, Billy Hargrove. And damn had he aged well.
Even more surprising were the sparks he felt when the photographer had them kiss, and the scrap of paper with a phone number written on it that Billy had slipped into his pocket. Apparently Robin was right when she had said all that anger was “clearly just repressed homosexuality”.
For once Robin being right was actually a good thing.
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Here’s my first fic for day one of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it !
Prompt: Trope Subversion - love at first sight
Title: Feels Like The Very First Time
Rating: G
Word Count: 818
Billy is a little confused when he wakes up from his wisdom teeth removal. He might have some memory loss, but when he lays eyes on a hot male nurse, it’s love at first sight.
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Day 3 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it . This is the one that was hardest for me, especially because I kept bouncing around ideas, starting them and then changing my mind. This is the final product and I hope everyone likes it, because it's another short and sweet one. Prompt: Angst - Scars Title: I Start to Sing and Cry and then it Makes me Laugh, Man Word Count: 936 words TWs: Scars, talking about scars, but nothing too graphic or relating to abuse
“So, what’s this one from?” Steve asked, pointing at a line of whitish, kind of puffy skin on Billy’s upper arm. It was a sunny morning in April, and Billy had spent last night at Steve’s house. They hadn’t been awake for long, even though it was almost 10:45, and since it was just them in the house, they decided to laze around in bed for as long as they pleased. But apparently, Steve was chatty when he first woke up, and now he was talking Billy’s ear off about anything he saw. For the past ten minutes, he’d asked Billy about the scars that littered his body, and despite kind of wanting to just go back to sleep, Billy told him about each one.
“That one I think I got when I was…” he yawned, “Maybe six? I was cooking with my mom, and she always had a stool for me to stand on so I could reach the counter and stuff, and then one day I lost my balance and fell into the stove. Burned my arm pretty bad.”
Steve smiled sympathetically before leaning down and kissing the scar, just like he’d done for all the ones before it. It sent a shiver down Billy’s spine, and he couldn’t help but smile contently as Steve laid his head back down on his chest.
“How ‘bout you, pretty boy?” Billy said before Steve could find something else to ask about, “You got any scars?”
“A few,” Steve replied, shifting a little so he could show them. He lifted his right leg up and out of the blankets and pointed at his kneecap. “I was probably like eight, and I was riding my bike with Tommy, and there was a pretty big stick in the path we were on. Tommy saw it in time, but I didn’t, and I fell off my bike, hitting one of the pedals on the way down. Tommy ran and got his mom, and next thing I know, I’m at the hospital, getting my knee sewn back together.”
Billy sat up a little and kissed Steve’s knee, right on the scar, just like he’d done for him all morning. He smiled after and leaned over Steve, finding his hand and dragging him into an upright position as well, despite their heads almost bonking together.
“Okay, lightning round,” he said, “Anything we see we can ask about, and we have to go as quick as we can and see who ends up laughing too hard to keep going first.”
“Sounds fair,” Steve said, then pointed at Billy’s eyebrow, “What about that one?”
“A fight in seventh grade,” he answered. “That one?” He pointed at Steve’s collarbone.
“My grandma’s cat scratched me.” He tapped Billy’s left shoulder.
“Max threw a shoe at me.” He suppressed a giggle at Steve’s face, and instead pointed at Steve’s ankle.
“Dustin’s bike had a loose spoke and it cut me.” He said, pointing to Billy’s thigh once he got his face back under control.
“I fell backwards off a swing set,” Billy said, pointing to Steve’s upper lip.
“I was learning to walk and I fell headfirst into a glass coffee table,” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle, and Billy must’ve been imagining it playing out, because he erupted into a laughing fit that only ended when he leaned forward and kissed Steve, though his smile was still there.
“I’m glad my being in pain as an infant amuses you,” Steve mumbled as they parted, their foreheads resting against each other.
“It’s not that, it’s just that you told me before that the coffee table in your living room has been there since you were born, and how your big ass head managed to fall into it and not shatter it is beyond me,” Billy continued to laugh, and Steve shoved him back a little.
“You’re so mean to me,” he grumbled, but Billy wasn’t having it.
“Oh, I’m just playing with you,” he said, then took Steve’s hand and placed it on his lower back, just above his ass. “If it makes you feel any better, I got this one by jumping on a bed at my aunt’s house, which I then broke.”
“How did you break a bed?” Steve smiled, despite his best effort to try and stay pouty.
“I was a chubby kid, and the beams that were supposed to hold the mattress up snapped after I jumped on ‘em too long,” Billy grinned. “And even after that, I didn’t learn my lesson, I did it again with the other bed in the room. My aunt and my cousins were pissed.”
Steve just stared for a second, but as soon as Billy started to laugh, he couldn’t keep his own giggles contained. They laughed so hard their sides hurt, and they fell back down on the bed until the fit was over. Steve turned his head and looked at Billy, and with the sunshine dancing through his hair, he looked so young and cute and playful, he became overcome with fondness for him. 
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Billy asked, his smile still shining.
“I’m thinking that I don’t care if you’re a little mean to me sometimes, I love having you around, and I’d like to keep you here as long as I can. As long as you promise not to break my bed, that is,” Steve smiled, caressing the side of Billy’s face.
“The best I can do is to promise not to break it by myself,” Billy said, “But if you’re with me, all bets are off.”
“Okay,” Steve chuckled, “That’s fair.”
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the devil ain't a beast
Day 1 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it: Found Family
(read on ao3)
**
Dear Steve,
If you’re reading this, I better be dead. I told you assholes not to open
It’s okay that you guys couldn't
Hey,
It’s weird writing this while you’re sitting right over there
Steve,
I just…wanted to say thank you. I never said it, after you stood up to Billy for me. For Lucas. I should have.
Thank you.
Not just for what you did that night, but everything after that. All the little things. The free movies and driving all of us around and letting me poach quarters out of your glove box (I know you noticed). I know I’m about to die so Maybe it’s stupid to be thinking about some change and a back entrance into the theatre when I’m under the circumstances, but it’s more about the fact that you didn’t have to do any of it.
I know Dustin strong-armed you into helping with the whole D’art situation, but after that you kept choosing to hang out with us, when I’m sure you could’ve found better things to do.
So. I hope you don’t mind that we all kind of see you as a big brother, because we do. I do. It was nice knowing what it’s like for people who aren’t scared to care about their siblings.
When Billy died I’m sorry for pulling away after Starcourt I couldn’t even handle losing the brother I sort of hated, so
Please keep looking after Lucas for me.
-Max
Billy never really learned to keep his nose out of other people’s business.
Maybe this will finally teach him.
The letter falls from his numb fingers, floating back into place on Steve’s desk, light as air and landing silently.
His grip on the page left it crumpled, wrinkled, sweaty fingerprints dented into the blank space below Max’s last words for Steve. Damning evidence that he’s been snooping around, not that Steve would normally care. What’s mine is yours, he said. And so far it seems he meant it.
The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth now.
But he never wanted Max to be his sister, did he. He always said as much. To anyone who would listen, including Max herself. It’s not surprising that she decided to replace him with someone better. His stare goes glassy, scattered papers and trophies and the yellow lamp all blur. His eyes sting.
He has no right to be hurt over this. It shouldn’t hit him like a punch in the gut, but it has, and he aches all over, swaying, nauseated.
And there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. That’s the worst part. He can’t make it better, there’s no fixing this, no patching things up with Max, no going back in time and beating the shit out of himself before he can ruin everything.
No one wanted to tell him, at first. After he clawed his way out of a fissure in the ground, blood and dirt under his nails, and scared the shit out of all of Max’s little nerd friends. She was conspicuously missing, and no one would tell him why.
Being trapped in hell for eight and a half months wasn’t as bad as finding out he was two days too late to ever talk to his sister again. At least when he was being attacked by monsters he could fight back. There’s no fighting this. There’s no excising his grief no matter how many times he bloodies his knuckles.
The sound of the front door being flung open echoes up the stairs. “I’m home!” Steve calls just barely loud enough to be heard, muted by exhaustion.
Billy goes rigid, tension coiling up his spine. It’s usually a relief when Steve comes back, after the quiet, the boredom of being cooped up in an empty house all day. He’s a bright spot, a comforting presence…
It’s not hard to see why Max preferred him.
Billy lets out a slow breath, and swipes at the wetness on his cheeks.
Familiar anger bubbles up in the back of his throat. So familiar it’s almost comforting. He’d rather be angry than blubbering like a child, wallowing in misery.
He’s tired of being second best. Never the favourite, never good enough.
He can’t do anything about how fucking inadequate he was, he can’t ever change enough to make it right, so what’s the fucking point, what’s the point of any of this.
It’s pressure behind his eyes now, tears blurring with something else, that rage that threatens to blind him. He can feel it in his fingertips, and coiled like a snake between his ribcage.
He has to get out. He has to just. Go. Before he breaks another thing that can’t be fixed.
He doesn’t look at Steve, doesn’t listen to his confused stuttering, and he barely feels their shoulders collide as he pushes past him, out the door.
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Touch me on the beach, 2145 words, rating: G.
A combo fill, both for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it (day 2, prompt: "Touch Starvation", Angst to Fluff), and @harringrovesummerbingo (square C1, prompt: "Bare feet & hot sand").
Summary:
It's Steve's first time visiting a California beach, and Billy makes sure he puts on sunscreen.
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Day 2 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it , and I can't wait for you all to read my entry! Prompt: Trope Subversion - Arranged Marriage Title: I Don't Like Your Girlfriend Word Count: 4578 words TWs: Slight Homophobia
“Peter, you’re not going to solve whatever problem you’re trying to solve by pacing around all night, now sit down and eat your dinner before you starve!” Margie Harrington said to her husband. He’d been acting like this for days, ever since their son Steve had come for a visit and announced his big news. 
He and his partner had taken a vacation to California a couple of weeks ago, since that’s where his partner was from, and while they were there, they had gotten married. When they came back to Hawkins afterwards, they only told a select few people, and while his partner, Billy, didn’t want to tell his parents, Steve had decided to tell his. After all, it was big news, and he said he didn’t feel right keeping it from them. 
They had hidden it well, but his parents weren’t exactly thrilled about the match. Peter was a lawyer, and an important one at that, so he was obviously concerned about the family’s reputation, and to have his son marry someone from the wrong side of the tracks, especially when that someone was a man, it just didn’t look very good. Margie was just happy Steve was happy, but she also knew that eventually, Peter would try to get them to split, and she didn’t know how easily Billy would fold. She didn’t want Steve’s heart to be broken, and she didn’t want that to cause a rift between him and his father, either, but right now, there was nothing she could do.
“I’ll be there in a minute, Marjorie,” Peter called back, waving her off without even looking up. His wife sighed, but she walked away, knowing that it’d be easier to talk him out of whatever he was planning once they both knew what it was than to try and interrupt his thinking process and make him all frustrated. She went into the dining room and started eating by herself, rolling her eyes as she could hear her husband continuing to pace upstairs. 
Finally, after Margie had almost finished her meal, Peter came downstairs, a grin on his face like he had come up with a perfect plan, and started eating his cold dinner without so much as a grimace.
“Did you solve your problem, dear?” Margie asked as she cleared her plate, shaking her head a little as her husband hummed and wiped his mouth on a napkin.
“I believe I did, actually,” he said, taking a sip of wine before asking, “Stephen is twenty three now, correct?”
“Yes, why?” Margie asked, rejoining the table with her own glass of wine.
“Well, he’s just about that age to need to be on his own insurance, so here’s what we’ll do. I’ll call him and invite him to lunch so that he can sign himself off of our insurance, right? But in reality, I’ll write up divorce papers and that’ll be what he signs. I’ll figure out a way to get his friend to sign them too, and then when they inevitably split up, there’s no need for it to be a big thing, they’ll already be divorced and nobody will have to know about them being married in the first place,” Peter said, continuing to eat as he sat up, just as proud as a peacock.
“And what if they don’t end up splitting?” Margie asked.
“Then they don’t have to know. Stephen doesn’t know to look twice at whatever documents I tell him to sign, so it won’t matter! What do you think?”
“I think that you’re taking this a bit too far, Peter. There’s a lot of things you’re not considering.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for one, they’re in love, at least enough to have been together since they left high school and to then get married. And another thing, what if Billy is smart enough to look twice when you make him sign? I think you’re blowing this all out of proportion.”
“Marjorie,” Peter sighed, “I have to do something. I cannot just allow Stephen to do whatever he wants and ruin his life, our lives, and the life of his friend. And if I have to arrange their divorce for them myself, then that’s what I have to do.”
“Well, just don’t expect me to be involved,” Margie said, standing up and leaving the table as she added, “I might not agree with the way they went about things, but if Stephen is happy, then that’s all that matters to me. If this is really a mistake, he’ll figure that out eventually, but if not, I’m not going to play a part in ruining his happiness just for our own vanity, and that’s final.”
“Fine, you don’t have to be involved, but just don’t spill the beans on me, alright? I’ll do everything myself,” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes. Whether his wife would help him or not, he was going to go through with this. His son just could not stay married to that hoodlum, and that’s all there was to it.
The next day, Peter was at his office and, in between meetings, found time to write up the divorce papers for his son. He made sure to dot every I and cross every T, and by closing time, he had everything in order. The only thing left was to call Steve and set up a lunch date. He dialed the number Steve had given them for the phone at his new place, but after a few rings, it went straight to the answering machine.
“Hey, this is Steve,” the machine said in his son’s voice, and then in another that he vaguely recognized, “And Billy.” It went back to Steve’s voice and continued, “We’re either not home right now or we’re avoiding your call. Either way, the beep’s coming, you know what to do.” The message was accentuated by the sounds of giggling and a few snickers, and Peter felt his eye twitch a little as he listened for the beep.
“Hello, Stephen, it’s your father,” he said when it came, “I was just calling to see if you would be willing to come over next weekend and have lunch with your mother and I. I, uh, have some papers I need you to sign. Nothing major, just a few forms to get you off of our insurance now that you’re a married man. Anyway, get back to me as soon as you can and we’ll hash out the details. Have a nice evening, son.”
Steve had been busy with the dishes when the call had come in, but he heard the message as his dad left it, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Billy had returned from switching the laundry just as the message ended, and he saw Steve nearly falling into the sink as he laughed, so he walked over to help dry and asked, “Henderson or Buckley?”
“What do you mean?” Steve asked, finally getting over the laughing fit.
“There’s only three people in the world that can make you laugh that hard, but I was in the other room, so that means either Henderson or Buckley called and left a message. C’mon, which one was it and what did they say that almost had you drowning in dishwater?”
“Actually, it wasn’t either of them,” Steve said, “It was my dad. He wants to have lunch with me next week. He needs me to sign something so I’m no longer on his and my mom’s insurance.”
“And that’s funny… why?” Billy asked.
“Because, I did all that months ago when I moved out of their house. I guess he never read the papers I had him sign, because apparently, he doesn’t know that, which means he’s planning something. He’s got some sort of scheme he thinks I’m gonna fall for, and I’ll bet my entire trust fund that it has something to do with splitting us up.”
“Really? Why the hell would your dad try and do something like that?”
“Because it’s not good for his image if I’m married to a man from the wrong side of the tracks. That’s gotta be his angle, because I don’t see any other reason he’d be this concerned about it. But anyway, the reason I was laughing is because he thinks it’s gonna work. He thinks I’d sign my soul away to the devil if he just asked me to, but I know better than to sign something without reading it first. But, I think I’ve got an idea.”
“For what?”
“Well, he thinks I’ll sign whatever he wants, so I’m going to, but not the way he wants.”
“Okay, I’m intrigued, what’s your plan?” Billy asked, knowing that sparkle in Steve’s eyes, and knowing that it meant mischief. 
“So, we’ll go to that lunch, and you’ll wear your best outfit, and we’ll bring Max along for moral support, and then, we’ll sign the papers,” Steve explained, his smile downright wicked.
“And how is that not doing exactly what your dad wants?”
“You’ll see,” Steve said, then added with a wink, “Oh, and I get to put your outfit together. We have to make sure you impress the folks after all.”
The next weekend came quickly, and everything was in place on both sides of the equation. Peter had the papers all ready on his desk, a pen already set on top of them, and Margie had made a fantastic lunch, one fit for kings. Steve had dressed Billy in his best outfit, a mesh crop top with simply sinful tight leather pants that showed off most of his tattoos and piercings, and they had picked Max up on their way to the house, making sure she was in her rattiest clothes, had at least four band-aids visible on her face and hands, and had her skateboard and walkman in hand. It took everything he had to keep a straight face as they walked up to the door, but he managed to keep it together and put on a neutral expression as they rang the doorbell, waiting for his mom to answer.
She had been clued in to their plan when Steve called her to tell her they’d be at the lunch, and she was all set to act accordingly with whatever they threw at her. She opened the door, smiling as she greeted them, and pretended to hide a grimace as she saw Steve walking in with Billy’s hand in his. Max didn’t say a word as she walked into the house after them, her headphones on as she walked past Margie without even a handshake, just as Peter walked in.
“And who is this young lady?” Margie asked, biting her nail as Max walked a bit too close to the living room carpet with her muddy shoes on.
“This is Maxine, we’re fostering her. Y’know, there are just so many poor kids who grow up in foster care, so we decided to do our part and try to give her a good home. The older ones tend to just age out since everybody wants the babies and toddlers, so we figured we’d give Maxine a try and see how things go,” Steve explained, smiling until Max ripped her headphones off and gave him the dirtiest look she could muster.
“It’s Max. If you can’t get it right, then don’t say it at all!” She snapped, dropping her board on the hardwood floor and starting to skate around the kitchen.
“Max, honey, we talked about this. No skating in the house,” Steve said, and Max just rolled her eyes.
“Then can I go outside?” She asked, and Steve sighed.
“Sure, but either Billy or I has to go with you,” he said, then leaned over and stage-whispered to his parents, “If we let her go by herself, she tries to run away.”
“Ugh, I hate you!” Max stomped her foot, crossing her arms as she put her headphones back on and stormed over to the couch.
“It’s a work in progress,” Steve said, following the girl’s lead and heading to the living room to sit while lunch was being finished. He relished in the barely hidden look of discomfort and disbelief on his dad’s face as he said it, having to pinch himself to keep from laughing.
“So, uh, Billy, how has married life been treating you?” Margie asked, slapping on a fake smile and pretending to be uncomfortable as she sat down across from him, Steve and Max.
“Oh, it’s great. Your son is one fantastic piece of tail, and I get to have him whenever I want!” Billy said, reaching over and pinching Steve’s ass to accentuate his point. Steve just giggled and swatted his hand away, and everyone else just laughed uncomfortably.
“And, um, what is it that you do for work?” Peter asked, and it looked like he was near a heart attack as Billy kicked his feet up on the coffee table.
“I’m currently unemployed, but I know a guy who’s been hooking me up with some decent work in sales. It’s a pretty loose gig, but it brings in a lotta dough, and I get a twenty percent employee discount, so,” he said, shrugging as he propped his arms up behind his head.
“And what exactly is it that you sell?” Peter asked, his head starting to pound.
“Oh, y’know, party supplies. Amps, sweet stuff, disco biscuits, special K, electric kool-aid, some bud, you get the gist,” Billy said, shrugging again. He tried not to lose it as Steve’s parents both looked confused at first, but then quickly realized what he was talking about and nodded as if they still didn’t get it. It was hilarious watching his dad try to keep his cool as he put his arm around Steve, and it only became funnier as he had to excuse himself for a moment to ‘check on lunch’ as Steve cuddled into Billy’s side.
“Can I go upstairs and see your old room?” Max asked, sitting up a little on the couch and speaking loud enough so Peter would hear it as he left for the kitchen.
“Sure, go ahead,” Steve said, “It’s just up the stairs and to the right.”
Max got up from the couch then and bounded up the stairs as quickly as she could, leaving Steve and Billy alone with Margie.
“So, you think dad suspects anything?” Steve asked his mother quietly.
“No, I think you’ve got him right where you want him. And it was a great idea bringing Max into this, she’s a wonderful actress. I think if the three of you keep it up, I’ll be able to convince him to leave you be once it’s all said and done,” Margie said with a wink.
“Good. Oh, also, we had another idea that we wanted to run past you first before we did it. Would you be okay if Max threw some food at you then?” Steve asked, the mischievous glint playing in his eyes.
“We’d have her wait until it cools down a little, of course, but after she does, you can say you need a moment and excuse yourself, and that’ll give your husband the perfect opportunity to have us sign those papers,” Billy added, smiling along with Steve.
“As long as she doesn’t throw a whole chicken breast at me, I’m fine with that,” Margie said, shaking her head as she laughed a little. “Oh, wait, I think I hear your father coming back, everybody quit smiling!”
As Peter walked back into the room, he found everyone in the same position he’d left them in, chatting about the weather. As he sat down, he asked, “What happened to the young lady?”
“She wanted to check out my old room, so she’s upstairs,” Steve said, and just then, Max came barrelling back down the stairs, holding something in her hands.
“Oh my God! This is so funny, check out what I found!” She said, waving around a porn magazine.
“Max! Where did you find that?!” Steve nearly shouted, pretending to be panicked as he tore the magazine out of her hands, trying to hide it.
“Under your bed. Gotta say, Steve, you’ve really got a type,” she laughed, holding up one of the pages that had fallen onto the floor. It showed a blonde woman dressed all in leather that had a brunette man tied up on the ground in front of her, and once everyone had gotten an eyeful of it, Steve grabbed that, too, crumpling all of it up and taking it to the kitchen to throw it away. Max continued to laugh, and Billy had to chuckle a little, too. They’d planned this gag along with everything else, but the way Steve’s face went red just like his parents’, it was just too funny.
“Um, I-I think lunch should be ready by now, why don’t we head in to the table?” Margie said, her face still flushed as she led the way to the table. It was set with the semi-fancy silverware and china, and Max’s eyes grew wide as she walked in. As soon as they were all seated, she waited until she thought Steve’s dad would be the only one looking, and she swiped the crystal salt and pepper shakers off the table, stuffing them in her pocket.
“Now, young lady, you are a guest in our home, and we are being very kind to you. You should not be repaying that kindness by taking our things and acting the way you are,” he said, giving her a hard stare.
“I didn’t do anything,” Max said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.
“What’s going on?” Steve asked as he, Billy and Margie walked in, carrying the food dishes.
“I didn’t do anything!” Max was quick to defend, glaring at Peter.
“Yes, she did. She took the crystal salt shakers and stuffed them in her pockets,” Peter countered, and Steve looked at Max disappointedly, shaking his head. 
“Max, we talked about this. You don’t take things that don’t belong to you, now put them back,” he said, putting his hands on his hips as Max groaned, but put the shakers back on the table. Steve glanced at his dad after the whole exchange, and was pleased to see his eye starting to twitch again, an obvious sign that they were getting to him. 
After that, they all sat down and started serving themselves. Margie had made chicken with broccoli and potatoes, and for most of the meal nothing major happened. This was mostly due to the fact that nobody said a word as they ate, any and all conversation topics seeming loaded with too much opportunity for awkward tension, so nobody bothered to try. That is, until Steve saw that Max was eating everything but her broccoli.
“Max, honey, you have to eat your broccoli, or else we won’t get ice cream on the way home,” he said, nodding at her plate, but she only scoffed.
“I’m fifteen, Steve, not five, and I don’t like broccoli,” she said, rolling her eyes yet again.
“Just eat it, alright?” Billy backed Steve up, making his tone as sharp as possible until it was practically a growl.
“No,” she said, “I don’t like broccoli.”
“Just fucking eat it, Max. I’m not gonna say it again!” Billy raised his voice at her.
“I won’t say it again, either! I. Don’t. Like. Broccoli!” She raised her voice right back, picking up a couple of florets in each hand and throwing them, some hitting Billy and Steve, but the majority going off to the sides and hitting his parents. After her tantrum, Max stood up from the table quickly and stormed off to another room, her headphones back on her ears as she hid in the living room. Billy stood up as if he were going to go after her, but Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, telling him to give her a few minutes to cool off before they both said something they’d regret.
Meanwhile, his parents just sat there, both in disbelief at the girl’s horrible behavior and the way Billy had tried to handle it. For a minute, it seemed like nobody was going to move, as if everything had been stopped by the tantrum and now somebody had to restart time. Finally, Margie was able to get into character and stood up, still pretending to be in shock as she muttered, “I-I need a moment,” and left the room in a rush.
“Stephen, why don’t you come into my office and sign those papers now, and then I think you all should leave, your mother seemed terribly upset,” Peter said, standing and looking at Steve in a way that told him he didn’t really have any choice in the matter. Steve just nodded and said okay, and he and Billy followed his father to his office.
“It’s an insurance thing, so will you need just my signature or both of ours?” Steve asked as they got into the office, glancing at the papers on the desk.
“Both of you will need to sign it,” Peter said, flipping to the right page and holding out a pen to Steve. He signed, then passed the pen to Billy, who signed as well.
“There, we should be all squared away, then,” Steve said, handing the papers back to his dad. “Sorry about all this, dad, this was supposed to be a nice afternoon. Tell mom I said sorry too, okay?”
“I will, son. Have a nice evening,” he replied, the first genuine smile he’d had all day coming to his face.
Steve led the way back to the living room so that they could collect Max before leaving, making sure his dad was well out of earshot before he started to laugh quietly. They got Max and quickly left, saying a quick goodbye to Margie when they saw her on her way to the office, asking her to give them a five minute head start before she went in there. She agreed and hugged them all before they left, waiting until she heard their car rumbling down the road before she went to find her husband.
“So what was it that he tried to get you guys to sign?” Max asked from the backseat, taking some of the band-aids off her face.
“Divorce papers,” Billy grinned wickedly, “But we didn’t actually sign them, don’t worry.”
“Nope. Poor dad’s in for a shock once he finally takes a closer look at those things,” Steve agreed, winking. “Now, let’s celebrate! Who wants ice cream?”
Back at the Harrington house, Margie had just entered the office, schooling her features to be neutral before she knocked on the door frame and walked in.
“So, I think we can agree that the next order of business is making sure they don’t adopt that horrible little girl, am I right?” Peter said as Margie sat down, kicking his feet up on his desk as he filed the documents away in a folder.
“I take it they signed, then?” Margie asked, biting her lip so as not to break the facade just yet.
“Sure did, see for yourself!” Peter said, flipping to the right page and holding the paper out to his wife. She couldn’t help it anymore, she let out a little giggle and said, “Um, dear, you might want to take a second look at those signatures.”
Peter looked at his wife like she lost her mind, and quickly whipped the paper around to see what she was talking about. His mouth went dry as he saw it, and his eye started twitching again, because instead of two names on the signature lines, he saw two parts of a sentence. In the neatest cursive he’d ever seen, the phrase “Suck a Lemon, Old Man!” was written on the lines.
As her husband started completely dumbfounded at the paper, Margie finally lost it, bursting into a fit of laughter that didn’t end until the papers Peter had been holding were halfway through the shredder.
“I don’t know what you’re laughing about, Marjorie! This is a disaster! This whole damn afternoon was a disaster!” He ranted, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Now I’ll have to write up a whole new set of papers and figure out some other plan!”
“Oh, come off it, Peter!” Margie finally calmed down enough to say, “This afternoon was a disaster by design! Stephen knows you, he knew that there was more to this, especially since he got his insurance in order months ago. They planned this whole thing to show you that you’re upset about nothing.”
“You call what happened out there nothing?!” Peter asked, completely exasperated.
“No, that was absolutely something. That was the worst case scenario. But that’s not how their relationship actually is. They wanted to show you that for as worried as you are about their relationship, it could be a hell of a lot worse. It was all acting. Max isn’t a foster kid, she’s Billy’s little sister, and they asked her to help them today by acting as badly as she could so you could see that at least they don’t have a juvenile delinquent they’re trying to raise. Steve dressed Billy up like that and had him say all those things about dealing drugs and such so that you can now think that at least our son didn’t marry an unemployed drug dealer with anger issues. It was all just like one big prank.”
“And you were in on it?!”
“Yes, I was.”
“Why would you do that to me?!”
“Because they asked me for help and I gave it to them,” Margie said, sighing, “Look, Peter, I realized a while ago that if I try and control everything about Steve’s life, not only would I never win, but I’d end up losing him in the end. He’d get fed up with me and if it hit a certain point, he’d cut me out completely. So instead of trying to control him, I’ve decided to support him instead. He’s made a lot of mistakes and he’s going to make more, but rather than try and prevent them from ever happening, I’m going to help him through those mistakes so he learns from them. And I don’t think he’s making a mistake with Billy. They’re in love, just like we’re in love, and they deserve to be in love without someone else controlling their every move. And if, heaven forbid, they ever do realize it’s a mistake, then I’d rather be here to offer Steve a shoulder to cry on than to laugh and say ‘I told you so’, wouldn’t you?”
Peter looked lost in thought as Margie’s words sank in, and finally, he sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I guess I should just be glad that nothing they said today was real, huh?”
“Now you’re getting it,” Margie smiled softly, taking her husband’s hand and kissing it gently.
“And I suppose I should call them tomorrow and apologize, shouldn’t I?”
“I think that would be best. Then maybe next weekend we can have a real lunch and we can all get to know each other the right way, hm?”
“Fine. But if that girl decides to tag along again, make sure that broccoli is not on the menu,” Peter said, making them both laugh.
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