#But then Steve would do some dumb hero shit and Billy would be losing his mind

[fizzigigsimmer]

Nerd!Steve but lets make it fun. Steve comes from a family of brilliant people. His dad’s a super genius who married another genius and they’re both off winning awards for cultivating life on Mars or whatever, meanwhile there’s Steve the “dumb” one. The disappointing son with his weird interests in the paranormal whose inventions never seem to quite work and his job as an IT tech. “Have you tried turning the system off and on?” Steve and his friends (Enter Dustin and the scoops troop) have been convinced for years that the Russians are developing some kind of supernatural super weapon, and it turns out he’s actually right.

The Russians have been working on opening gates to a parallel dimension and as a result freaky shit keeps leaking through and causing death and mayhem that the government has to sweep under the rug. Most of that cleanup falls to the CIA’s Stargate division. Billy is a top field agent with a reputation for getting the job done no matter what the stakes. Unfortunately for his operations team, keeping up with his maverick tendencies is almost as much of a headache as the operations themselves. His life tangles with Steve’s when a machine of his actually works and he and his friends end up in the cross hairs of Russian agents who happen to be targets in Billy’s latest mission. Shit goes sideways and Billy ends up needing their help to complete his mission.

Billy’s team is used to his antics. Heather has betting pools going about how quickly the next “Bond Girl” will show up and whether or not Billy will fall into her web before she trys and kills him when it’s inevitably revealed that she’s been working for the enemy the whole time. Seriously the guy wouldn’t know a healthy relationship if it walked up and volunteered to pay for his therapy. No one was counting on the nerds or how Billy would respond to one of them in particular. It’s insane, but also hilarious AF watching Billy struggle to keep the bumbling civilians alive, and don’t think she hasn’t clocked how he can’t leave the pretty one with the glasses alone. It’s like watching two little boys in a sand pit. He’s always in Steve’s face and pulling on his pigtails, you’d never know this was the man of mystery who has left a trail of broken hearts on seven continents. If he can just pull his head out of his ass maybe she’s not going to have to start setting him up on blind dates after all.

Steve thinks Billy is the WORST. He’s pushy and arrogant and won’t stop touching Steve’s tools even though he’s made it clear he has a specific system for them!!! He gets that Billy is trying to annoy him to death as payback for ruining his operation, but none of that was Steve’s fault and Billy should really be a lot more grateful that Steve and the others are here to help; because they never would have known what the Russians were up to or had a chance at stopping it without them. So what if Steve can’t win a fight, he’s about to save the fucking world so give him some credit! Billy could at the very least stop teasing him with that ‘Pretty Boy’ crap. Steve went to high school okay, he knows he doesn’t compare to guys like Billy.

Billy is pretty sure Steve is the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. He’s not sure how he’s still alive when he attracts disaster like a magnet, or how someone so brilliant can be so dense. The fact that Steve thinks he’s dumb though like genuinely baffles him and he kinda wants to punch everyone who ever made him feel like he was less than just because he didn’t meet their expectations. Kinda wants to punch something every time he looks at Steve honestly. Billy’s used to beautiful people throwing themselves at him constantly, so can someone explain why his favorite thing all of a sudden are the little folds in Steve when he’s concentrating, and the way his eyes light up all ‘Aha!’ right when he thinks of a good comeback to one of Billy’s jibes? He is not this guy! He doesn’t do attachments for damn good reason. So Why does he want to listen to Steve and Dustin fighting over what the CIA is hiding in Area 51 and why does he get such a kick out of how they collectively lose their minds when he hints that he’s been there.

Billy’s not attached, but if Steve wanted to sleep with him he’d be down. They’re hot and tommorrow might never come and all that. But hey, if it does he’s hinted a few times that the teams Digital Targeter Daniel has been talking about retirement. It’ll be hard finding a replacement you know, cause Billy is picky and he doesn’t just want someone who knows tech but someone who isn’t afraid to be in the field with him.

Steve’s like, “oh man, I can see what you mean. Good luck, I really hope you find someone”.

[apiratecalledav]

As requested, my predictions for Stranger Things season 4 Volume II. Plus my wishlist for fun!

Speculations:

I get why people think  Steve might be headed for the chopping block but my gut says no? Okay, maybe it’s just wishful thinking. But I do think it’s a misdirection. After all, pointing out the demobat bites and freaking out about rabies is supposed to make you worried about him. And ultimately, this is a nostalgia-fueled-feel-good family(ish) show and I don’t think killing Steve off—especially since he’s been an almost literal punching bag for so long— would fit.

It just seems uncharacteristically and excruciatingly cruel. Plus, after a nearly three year hiatus, killing off such a fan fav would be spectacularly dumb. I’m sure the Duffers know that but even if they don’t, the people signing the checks at Netflix sure as hell do. Even if Joe wanted out, I imagine Netflix would want the door open (three inches) for him just in case.

Ditto with Max. Having her stepdad leave and her mom start drinking after they lose their house… way too fucked up if Max dies, too. This ain’t Game of Thrones and if it tries to be, it will most likely ruin it.  The body count is already pretty high and has a few more to go. Surely killing off any long time, majorly loved character would be overkill.  

I will say, if there is such a death, I’d probably put my money on Nancy.  The way she has been on the money all season with Upside Down stuff until Vecna snatched her… could maybe, possibly hint at trouble. Even then, I’d imagine it’d only be because Natalia needed to leave the show for some reason.

I can see Eddie dying. Which hurts. But he is pretty much Bob and the good bit of Billy combined. I mean, I’m surprised his name isn’t Bilby. Also, dude is screwed. His best option is living in a cave for the rest of his life, eating Pringles gifted by friends. His intro established that he was optimistic about his future and now he’s lamenting the way he always runs away… 😓He’s going out like hero, at least. Hopefully. I know Chrissy will be waiting for him!  

Jason probably dies and is remembered as a hero. He’s the opposite of Billy, who was a piece of shit until he died doing something heroic without recognition.  Jason was a good kid who’ll end badly but will be remembered as the Patron Saint of Hawkins. Or possibly Jason will be the new Victor— the lone, traumatized survivor/scapegoat?

I’m hoping that this is Steve’s final darkest hour. Possibly like Hopper, he’ll fully intend to sacrifice himself but he’ll survive at the last second and come through (on the other side 😏) healthier and happier.  

Hopper probably has to get a new identity. There’s not really a good way to explain how he’s not dead and why he was gone so long…  The Hopper-Byers (aka the Hyers) family probably won’t ever call Hawkins home again and that low key makes me sad.

I think Eddie might play a song on his guitar to save Nancy from Vecna. Trying to think what it might be and I can only come up with three. 

My preference, which I believe to be the most likely: Brahms’ Lullaby, from the music box in her room. A heavy metal version would be badass as fuck. Plus, public domain so they’d save some money on royalties.

Africa by Toto, the song Nancy and Steve listen to when he helps her study for chem with those notecards. That was when we learn Steve isn’t just some asshole “only after one thing.” Meh.

Last and certainly least favorite is Waiting for a Girl Like You by Foreigner. Aka her song with Steve aka the song I was already pissed was wasted on them. But at the end of the day, I’m having hard time believing  S/N will be a real thing again.

Right now, I see it as Steve and Nancy really, really wanting to go back to a simpler time when fashion choices seemed like life and death to them. Even ignoring the Upside Down, Steve is still lost at sea and Nancy is about to leave her home and family. It’s a scary, uncertain time. And while I think there are more creative, interesting ways to go about that, it does makes sense they’d subconsciously find some sort of comfort in the idea of being together. To hope they could “turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were.” But as Hopper says, “that’s just not how life works. […] It’s always moving, whether you like it or not.”

Her bedroom from ‘83 is literally in a hell dimension that’s completely devoid of anything beautiful, safe, or good. The room is also littered with shit she no longer wants and is missing what she needs.💁🏻‍♀️ The knowledge she picked up from hanging out with Jonathan at that time is what saves them.  Now Vecna is pretty much using Barb and Nancy’s relationship with Steve to torture Nancy… so… that’s… pretty icky.

The writers have a good track record with ships, so I do think if they wanted us to truly root for them, they’d have done a better job. We also gotta remember they wrote this season intending the audience to watch it all within a week or two at most.

I think when Hopper comes back, it should  be easier for Jonathan to let go. He can transfer spring semester to one of the approximately eleventy-three colleges in the Boston area, even if he doesn’t do Emerson. Or just find a job and save money while Nancy gets her degree then they can move to New York and Nancy can work while Jonathan goes to NYU. Both of them need to leave their families’ mess to complete their arcs.  Even if it doesn’t end with them explicitly together, I imagine it’ll at least be implied that one day they will be.

I think Lucas, through true love for Max, plays a vital role in taking out Vecna somehow or at least temporarily binding him. See the DnD /basketball game scene. However, I will not entirely dismiss the possibility of Erica Sinclair  verbally roasting Vecna to death. 🤣

Wishlist:

Chrissy’s mom has a lotta nerve with that eulogy. Hope she gets to be demobat food.

Fingers crossed that Will saves El for a change.

Mike better have a helluva good way to tell El “I love you” for the first time.

One of these metaphorical pitchfork wielding townsfolk needs to call Eddie “Eddie Munster.” Like, I can’t believe they haven’t made that joke already.

Hyers family reunion, mom, dad, all three kids. And Uncle Murray, apparently.

Don’t kill any of my babies…

Edit: Holy crap, can’t believe I forgot Robin and Vicki. If I gotta sit through my NoTP, I need something to make it worth it.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

[gutterdreams]

Rest, Shame, Love [Billy Hargrove]

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things or the gif below. I was inspired to write this after sleepily saying goodbye to my fiancé this morning .

Word count: 3.1 k.

Masterlist

There were plenty of reasons why you and Billy never made it beyond flirting in class, one trip to the movies, and heavy petting in the front seat of his car. Yes, you didn’t even make it to the backseat. He wasn’t looking to give up the opportunity to try out every flavor in Hawkins High and you weren’t prepared to take on the full time pet project that was his unsteady temperament. The mutual attraction between you both was there, but nothing worth harvesting ever grew from it.  Hawkins was not a busy community though, so it wasn’t as if you never saw one another. You had geography together, your lockers were in the same corridor. He would be in the drugstore picking up hair product while you were flipping through magazines, outside assisting his dad putting up Christmas lights on their house as you were walking by with your older sister to go skating at st the community rink, and even exchanging five minutes of small talk when he was filling up his gas tank at Esso while you were in the passenger seat of Diana’s car on the other side of the pump. There was no hard feelings. There wasn’t really anything. 

You weren’t surprised when you spotted him around a keg with Tommy and his favorite gaggle of opportunists at Janet Channing’s random party. Billy would never turn down a chance to drink free beer. You also weren’t surprised that nearly all of the buttons of his red shirt were undone and that he looked good. Billy always looked good and he seemed to struggle with doing up his shirt. You didn’t move to say hi and he didn’t so much as nod his chin in your direction. Sticking by Deanna’s side, trying to talk over the A Flock of Seagulls song that was playing for the second time and convincing her not to hit on Tommy.   Some people were giggly drunks who ran away from anyone who tried to contain them. Others were obnoxious and/or violent. You fell into neither category. One drink [Y/N] was fun, she could handle herself with as much composure as sober [Y/N], but if you didn’t progress quickly from second to third to fourth, you were screwed out of being a noisy drunk and slipped right into a state of sleepiness. Tonight, since you hadn’t planned to get wild, you were curled up on the side of the couch, almost squished by a random couple making out half on you, and holding your head with one hand as you started to sink I to drowsiness against the floral arm of the couch. Your friends were around somewhere in the sea of people that had the split level house and it’s back porch filled, but you weren’t worried about it at the moment. Right now, your mind was blank and you were falling to sleep and The Cars ‘Magic’ was your lullaby.  “Hey.” At the level of your eyes that you could barely keep open, a groin stood being crushed under the tight pressure of light wash denim.  You tried to acknowledge the voice and the body it came from, but only a grumble came out from the small part in your painted pink lips.  “Are you okay?” Billy grumbled as he tilted his own head, his mullet shaking to one side. He scrunched up his nose to detect the answer of his question for himself. He hadn’t seen heard you screaming annoyingly at any point in the night or seen you dancing or puking anywhere. You just looked sleepy and, possibly, uncomfortable due to sitting up under the kissing couple that was close to fornicating against your shoulder.  “Just sleepy.” Very lazily, you shrugged and went to wave him away, but lifting up your arm required way too much energy.  Coming from the house he unfortunately had to call home, Billy was an expert at scouting out bad situations. He could deduce what was inviting to trouble in under five seconds upon entering a room. Of course, Billy sometimes was enticed by the promise of trouble, but he knew when to dip his toes in and when to avoid the water all together. A girl passing out at a party seemed like it would attract trouble like a fly to shit. He sighed and contemplated his options while your hand slipped from under your chin and let your head fall to the couch. You weren’t fazed by the change in position. He had had a lot to drink. Legally, he was drunk, but Billy was such a seasoned beer and whiskey drinker that he didn’t feel more than a buzz pulsing through him. He felt like he could do just about anything right now, barely impaired. While a part of him knew it wasn’t the best idea, he hint at the knees and pulled you from your waist. He grunted through clamped teeth and hoisted you over his shoulder where you laid like a sack of sand. Drunk girls had a way of feeling like dead weight, but Billy kept one hand rested on your back as he walked through dancing friends and crying girls like they weren’t even there, carrying you through like a special delivery.

He was close to the front door, just a few more steps when all skin and bone, Nancy Wheelers stepped right in his way with her fingers curled around her hips jet out to the right.  “Move, Wheeler.” After choking back a meaner comment, Billy spoke at her and tried to avoid eye contact.  “Gladly.” Just as annoyed with his existence as he was with hers, Nancy retorted. “When you put [Y/N] down.” It didn’t look very good for Billy, carrying a passed out girl and trying to leave with her. Nancy was just doing what she hoped any girl would do for her. You two weren’t as close as you had been in freshman year, but there wasn’t any bad blood.  “Fuck off.” Almost a whisper, Billy said under his breath and tried to step around her, but she beat him to the white wooden door.  “Billy, I’m serious. Put her down.” “Move, Wheeler.” He could only imagine how fast he would be chased out of Hawkins with pitchforks if he so much as laid a hand on Princess Nancy, but he had half a mind to try and pick her up and throw her kicking and screaming over his other shoulder. “I’m taking her home. She’s passed out on a couch.” He hated having to explain himself. To Billy, it made more sense for you to be in your own bed than an easy target for the lepers at the party. He knew them personally, they considered him one just like them. “Yeah, right.” She scoffed. He must have thought she was dumb. “I’ll call her a cab.” She was certain any other option would be safer than his noisy sin wagon.  Billy felt he had been polite enough and finished standing there in the line of Nancy’s judgement and moody eyes. He adjusted your position  on his shoulder and then reached around Nancy and harshly yanked the door open. The motion caused Nancy to stumble away, but she didn’t stop. She followed after both of you, a few paces behind, and shouted Billy’s name over and over. He ignored her though just like he did at school.  Since the noise Nancy was making had caught the attention of others, including her boyfriend’s, Billy wasn’t surprised when Steve jogged in front of him and stood before his car. Exasperated, Billy just snickered. 

“I don’t embarrass you enough in gym. You want me to do it in front of your chick?” He snarled at Steve before the scrawny guy in front of him could say a word to him. Billy was dying for a cigarette and, right now, he was annoyed that Steve was standing in his way of putting you down and lighting one up. “Just put her down.” He couldn’t make out who you were with only the moon and the porch light for illumination, but he could tell it was Nancy’s friend by the way she was chasing after Billy and shouting. Steve mirrored the pose Nancy had when blocking the door inside, waiting impatiently for Billy to comply. Steve knew, internally, that Billy would be slow to cooperate. He bet the blond couldn’t even spell the word. “Come on.” Steve tried again. It was dark and he could only make out pieces of Billy’s face. Steve was oblivious to Billy’s flared nostrils and the murderous glare he was directing right at his mouth. “You’re fucking lucky my hands are full or I’d lay you out, Harrington.” Billy wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself if he started on Steve. He had a hunch that he would lose all control. 

“Yeah, yeah, you say this all the time.” Steve was exhausted with Billy and they had only been standing in front of each other for a minute and a half. “Can you just drop the girl and be on your way? I’m not trying to start anything.” It really didn’t look very good to Steve. Billy looked like a real creep trying to take a passed out girl home.  Right now, Billy kind of wished you would wake up to tell everyone to back off.  Billy stepped forward to get to his car, but Steve moved with him and kept the path blocked.  “Look, come on, put her down. She’s out of it.” Always the hero, or trying to be, Steve lowered his voice and tried to avoid any of the nosy eyes around them from hearing. “If I wanted an easy fuck, I’d just go upstairs with your girl.” Billy growled back and tried to hip chuck Steve out of his way. It was the truth. Billy had no problem getting laid. Girls wanted to be with him. Misunderstood and from out of state, he was a hot commodity - earring and all. Billy leaned as he saw Steve’s own temper engage, not taking well to a crude comment made about Nancy, and pressed Steve up against the side of his car. “So, fucking move or I’ll throw you over my shoulder.” He kicked his foot between Steve’s sneakers and knocked him down by the ankle. From gym class, Billy had learned and memorized Steve’s weak points.  While laughing at the kid on the ground, Billy unlocked his car door and sat you down, forgetting to watch your head and accidentally knocking it on the ceiling. He slammed the door once you were putting in the passenger seat and then watched Steve as he stood up with Nancy’s offered hand.  “I’m not this bad guy.” He taunted them while walking around the front of his car to the driver’s side. “Why do you always make me be him?” Billy sarcastically asked before hopping into his car. He started the engine first and then reached over your waist to strap on your seat belt. Through the window, Nancy watched, upset and disgusted. It still didn’t look good from an outsider’s perspective. Billy was still boiling as he drove. He was drumming on the wheel to silence, taking long draws of nicotine, but his frustration felt fresh. Something about Steve could break him down faster than anything else. It was jealousy, ego, or some sort of inferiority complex. “It smells like rain.” Sleepily, you snuggled closer to the window, laying the side of your face against it.  It took Billy’s attention off the vendetta he was planning on his head. He had half a mind to drop you off and then go back to the party to attack Steve or even just bug him nonstop.  Your comment made no sense to him, but he glanced out his window and watched the rich navy sky swirl slowly. Maybe, you were right.  “Not the car.” You murmured again, hugging yourself in an effort to keep warm. If you were of clearer mind, you would have wished you had a jacket. “It smells like Billy Hargrove.” You giggled to yourself.  “What the fuck does that mean?” Softly, he asked with his mind reeling. He didn’t know if he should be upset yet or not.  As an answer, you brought your hand to your lips and pantomimed smoking and letting out a large puff. It made you smile before you dozed off again. He couldn’t argue with the impression. Cigarette smoke was embedded in the seats. His car was his favorite place to smoke, but he was happy to light up anywhere. He knew it bugged you when you two made out in his car and grabbed at one another’s bodies ardently. You would pull away and tell him he needed a mint without any hesitation. He started coming more prepared with a stick of gum already being chewed into a ball between his teeth.  “I am Billy Hargrove.” He grumbled after a few beats. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your eyes open and study him for just a moment.  “Explains the big muscles.” Nodding to yourself, you mentioned and shut your eyes again. Billy liked that you associated strength with him. He worked hard on his body, but he was glad to hear you didn’t just think he was a shit-for-brains jerk. Once in front of your house, Billy realized he couldn’t just barge in. Sure, he was pretty sure he knew where your parents stashed their hide-a-key, but if they were home, he couldn’t help himself through the front door. You were beginning to him gently in your sleep so you were useless to him. He sighed and turned off his car completely. He couldn’t just shove you out and drive away. Billy climbed out and tossed his cigarette on the driveway before walking over to your side. He felt a few chilly drops of water smack down on his shoulders as he opened up the door. You were right. It was about to rain.  Billy heaved an exasperated sigh and bent at the knees to pull you out. At first, he tried holding you up on your feet, but you shook your head and kept your eyes closed before leaning into his body. He stood still for a moment and awkwardly tried to rest his hands somewhere on your back. He decided this was stupid. He should have left you sleeping on the couch. If you couldn’t handle your liquor, that wasn’t his problem. He sighed again, your body falling deeper into his chest as it pulled in, and he picked you up over his shoulder again as the rain began to pitter-patter over his head.  Billy decided to turn on the charm. He was ready reluctantly if your parents answered after he rang the doorbell. He listened to the chime sing throughout the house and fixed himself to stand as straight as he could while keeping you from slipping down his back. He relaxed completely when your older sister answered in a bath robe, nostrils bright red from a whole day of blowing her nose.  “Hello?” She was confused and didn’t recognize your legs as your own over his shoulder. Billy was just some boy with long hair holding a person that looked like they might be dead from her angle. “Can I help you?” “Your sister passed out.” He told her and turned to the side to show off the rest of you, head hanging in your face and hands dangling like a double grandfather clock.  “Of course, she did.” Your sister knew all about your penchant for being a sleepy drunk. You had to keep drinking til you were nuts or else, you were ready for bed. It was as cute as it was inconvenient. “Come in.” She stepped out of the way and held the door open for him. Billy didn’t wait another moment. “Her room is the only one on the left upstairs.” She said before going to pour you a glass of water and find an Tylenol to lay on your nightstand just in case.  Billy nodded in place of actually saying ‘thank you’. He put you down to see if you would take yourself up the stairs, but you lean your back into his chest and moaned. It was enough to pick you up in his arms and carry you up the stairs as if he was some kind of dirtbag Prince Charming. He turned on your light and found himself amused by your powder pink room. Of course, there were pictures of John Stamos above your desk. He nearly tripped over a pair of your jeans on the ground. Billy stopped snooping and put you down in your messy bed, stretching out his arms and then pulling the comforter over you. He wasn’t going to undress you or stuff you into pyjamas. It felt like too much and he had done enough he figured.  As he was walking out of the room, hand on the wall to turn off your light, you yawned loudly in your bed and brought his head over his shoulder to check. He wished he hadn’t. He felt like an idiot for looking. Internally, he told himself he was stupid.  “Miss you already.” Smiling as you sunk into slumber, you told him.  Like a pad of butter on the center of a fluffy pancake stack, he softened. Billy leaned against the wall and his back accidentally hit the switch and shut off the light, leaving you both in the dark. He couldn’t adore you with his eyes like he wanted to, but you were home safely and that was thanks to him. That was comforting enough.  “I miss you too.” Sincerely he said back without thinking.  Billy stood  still for a few minutes, just standing in your dark room while you slept in your clothes. It wasn’t until your sister barged in with water and a pill that he pushed off the wall and returned to reality.  “I’ll take it from here. Thanks.” She sat down at the edge of your bed and told Billy, reaching forward to put down her hangover prep. “Okay.” He figured he would just let himself out the way he came in. He wasn’t sure yet if he would return to the party or not.  “Oh, hey…” Your sister’s voice caught his attention just as if he was standing in the doorway, lit up from the hallway sconces. “Who should I tell her dropped her off?” To her, it was a kind thing to do. She liked that someone had took it upon themselves to bring you home safely when you were unable to function anymore on your own. Billy wanted the glory. He wanted you to run into his arms around school with a hundred thank you kisses, but instead he looked down at the beige carpet between his dirty shoes and said, “No one.” He tapped the frame of your door just once and left to smoke in his car and grumble at himself.

@daddyslittlemunster @desertsivan1995