#billy joking around and calling the other guy pretty and steve loosing his shit

[ickypuppi3]

saw that thing about chase stokes auditioning for the role of steve and all i can think about is billy having this ‘friend’ back in california who he used to screw around with who looks like chase does in outer banks and steve & co meeting him for some reason and robin being all ohh billy really has a type, huh? and steve getting all jealous and pissy about it

bonus if billy and steve aren’t even together yet and steve refuses to admit he’s jealous and also refuses to admit that robin’s right and he does, in fact, have a massive crush on billy

[imaginesbymk]

“Something’s Wrong with Mr. Pink.”

Reservoir Dogs One Shot

Summary: There’s been spark between you and Mr. Pink, but he’s one to shield his emotions. He realizes he’s starting to lose you, but he’s out of ways to win your heart. Desperate, he approaches Mr. White for help.

Pairing: Mr. Pink x Fem!Reader

Tags: swearing, sexist remarks, smoking + mentions of drug use (marijuana)

Non Requested

Word Count: 2,054

Author’s Note: as you can tell, quentin tarantino movies have been on my list!!! the reader is codenamed Miss Beige!! i never thought i’d have this much appreciation for steve buscemi until now, he’s such a cool guy :(((  also thank you @myriadimagines​ for checking my title capitalization aksnskdns - leave a like/reblog + feedback!!! <333

MR. BROWN gave Mr. Pink a ride to the next meeting, and the whole trip there, Brown rambled on and on about God knows what. It came through one ear and out the other for Pink. Brown didn’t seem to notice because of his investment of his proven theory of a movie he had seen and wanted to share it with someone. 

If he wasn’t listening in silence, Pink would always have something to say. It would usually be a comment, an opinion on something about social life. This one afternoon, he bit his tongue, despite the guys knowing his mind was occupied, even Nice Guy Eddie raised a brow. It didn’t start the day they were all given your colour coded names. It didn’t start the day they reviewed the plan of the heist with each other. It all started when you two were unintentionally left alone at the large dining table, moments after the guys had walked out the restaurant for something.

“Pink’s a pretty colour.” You gave him a reassuring smile, stirring your straw in your milkshake.

“To you.” 

“And to anyone else who would want to be codenamed Pink!” you scoff. “Sexist.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re Miss Beige,” he says, his mouth full of his toast. 

“And I happen to like my name. It’s a pretty colour,” you paused. “Just like pink.”

Pink huffs, swirling his coffee mug. “I can’t wait to smoke.”

“Lucky.”

“My buddy sets up Thai sticks like it’s one of those model boats in a bottle. It’s so fragile to him, and he saved one for me. Something tells me I owe him a shit ton.”

“You smoke Thai sticks?” you ask. “Your poor lungs.”

“Nah, I gotta smoke outta one anytime after coffee just for me to either black out or jump off the Empire State building by the time we hit Easter.”

You chuckled.

From the windows of the restaurant, you could see the guys standing outside their parked cars including Nice Guy Eddie and Joe, talking to each other about whatever. You could see their mouths moving, Nice Guy Eddie using a lot of hand motions at Mr. White, and Joe calling someone on the phone.

This wasn’t the first time you spent a limited amount of minutes alone with Mr. Pink. At Uncle Bob’s Pancake House, you two did sit close to each other, except Mr. Blue sat in between the both of you, and you had to lean forward to see Mr. Pink if he was speaking or if you two were giving each other looks if someone said something stupid.

If you were that childish, you would've considered the five minutes of alone time with Mr. Pink a first date - without the formal introduction. You two didn’t give each other your names because of Joe, but you wouldn’t mind slipping it out.

Silence, and then-

“I know this really cool café near my apartment. We should check it out sometime,” you blurted out.

Pink was in the midst of swallowing his food. He chokes on his ketchup dipped toast, taking his coffee mug to chase the contents down his throat.

“Wait a minute-” Pink cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “Are you-” he cleared his throat for the final time. “Are you asking me out?”

“Y-yeah,” you sheepishly smile, holding in your breath. “I mean, we can go get coffee, hang out at my place afterwards - it’s just a five minute walk - and sit on my couch, listen to K-Billy’s Super Sounds of the ‘70s, you can smoke your Thai stick, I wouldn’t mind...” By looking at Pink’s face made you trail off your words. You knew where this was going. 

“You couldn’t ask Brown or Orange?”

“No, I wanted to ask you. We’ve been talking lately, we seem to get along, thank God, and you’re really cool. Even when you can be an absolute dick almost all the time, you haven’t scared me off. Just one date, it won’t kill us.”

“A date...” he frowns a bit. “With you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” your heart sank.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Miss Beige. Ya just got the wrong idea. We’re here for a job, not to hook up. If you want to suck someone off, try your luck with Mr. Blonde. Besides, I go for chicks at a bar. I know from experience, they’re always coming in hot - first come, first serve typa’ shit.”

“Right. My bad.” You felt yourself shrinking now, fighting the urge to get up and make a dash outta there, somewhere to scream in embarrassment, whatever emotion it was. 

“Excuse me.” Mr. Pink gets up and walks away, just as the rest of the guys start making their return to the large table.

“Where did Mr. Pink go?” Mr. Orange asked.

“Little men’s room, I’m guessing.” You sighed, sliding the milkshake away from you. “I’m full.”

“Something’s wrong with Mr. Pink. Did you guys get in a fight? We were only gone for five minutes,” Mr. Brown laughs.

You sat in silence, staring down.

“Nah, I bet she finally put him in his place and he’s crying like a baby in there,” Mr. Blue said, lighting the cigar in his mouth with a match.

“Most definitely not.” Mr. White shook his head, patting his pockets in search of his lighter. “That man’s a smartass, and smartasses like him know how to shield themselves. He’s fine. If anything, he can walk his ass home.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Pink calmly entered the restroom, placed both hands on each side of the tiny sink, stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror, and screamed in anger. 

He jumps when he notices a man had appeared from one of the stalls just a moment ago, staring at him worriedly.

“WHAT?!” Mr. Pink snaps.

If someone treated him like a friend, he goes along with it if they weren’t weird or creepy. If someone told a joke, he’ll laugh if it isn’t corny or cringeworthy. But if someone admitted their feelings to him? Let alone ask him out?

That was the thing: Mr. Pink doesn’t like the idea of vulnerability. He’s aware that it’s unavoidable, it’s human nature - he just chooses not to give into it. Mr. Pink won’t waste a breath giving anyone the impression that he’s easy to get along with and that he’s a kind of guy to not act like a complete jerk half the time, because that’s not true. Not on his behalf, at least. 

“Mr. White,” Mr. Pink approaches him in the vacant room at the hideout one day.

He knows people can judge. So he naturally survives on witty remarks, being a sarcastic ass most of the time, and coffee, coffee, and more coffee. Coffee times six. 

Mr. White finishes combing his hair in the small mirror, nodding at him as a response. “You all right, son?”

But at the same time, his heart was telling him he wants you all to himself.  “I got a problem...”

"SO you want my help?” Mr. White said, a few moments after Mr. Pink had explained the situation he was stuck in. “You’re completely hopeless right now? Gosh, is it my birthday already?”

“You’re full of shit,” Pink mumbled.

“Thought you’re s’posed to be a fuckin’ professional, like you said?” Mr. White chuckled. “I would have thought you would know what to do by now.”

“What am I, the Dalai Lama? I don’t know the answer to everything.”

“I mean... I kinda figured something was goin’ on between you two, I tried to warn her,” White shoots him a blank stare.

“Warn her?” Mr. Pink scowls. “Like I’m some fuckin’ tiger on the loose?”

“I did tell her: Listen, honey,” Mr. White grimaced, as he saw you like a sixteen-year-old teenager not knowing better than to get her heart broken. “Are you one hundred percent sure you like Mr. Pink? He’s a pretty cynical guy. You know he doesn’t tip waitresses?”

You shrug.

“Look, I know I can be very close to myself while very outspoken but,” Mr. Pink sighs. “I mean, c’mon, you’ve seen Miss Beige. Who wouldn’t want her? One time, she called in sick for a job she worked at just to play Super Mario World.”

“You could go there and apologize to her.”

“It’s not that easy, White.”

“How so? Just tell her you freaked out but you had a change of heart.”

“No, man. I could have accepted it right there and then, I could be taking her out somewhere, a place she likes, or that café she was talking about. But no, I turn into the cold piece of shit I always am ‘cause I’m a fucking-” Mr. Pink kicks the rusty chair in anger. “-idiot!” He kicks it again, hurting his foot in the process. He cries out in pain and hops away to the table for balance.

“Mr. Pink, it’s not too late to win her heart. If you really like her, and I can tell you’d take a bullet for her, then brush the professionalism aside for one second and make your move.”

“How?” he chuckles, taking a seat in the chair he had just kicked.

“Well, you can start by introducing yourself.”

“Already done.”

“No I mean, your name.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. What we’re not gonna do is that.” Mr. Pink ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back to White to therapeutically stare at the light pink tiles on the walls. 

“Why not?” White shrugs. “I told her mine. And it’s-”

Mr. Pink turned around. “What?”

Mr. White furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

“You told her your name?” he said. In his mind he prayed Mr. White gave her a fake name on the spot.

“I mean, not just her. Mr. Orange, too. My first name and where I was from, it was a normal conversation.”

“...WHY?!” Pink’s voice echoed in the warehouse.

“Orange asked.”

“You know what Joe said, we’re not supposed to reveal any personal info about ourselves!”

“Joe said this, Joe said that- fucking teacher’s pet,” Mr. White mocks.

“What the hell were you thinking, White?” he shouts.

“How else can you and Miss Beige take a step further if you can’t even tell each other your fuckin’ names? Just introduce yourself, Pink. That’s one way to start,” Mr. White says.

“And what if she doesn’t like my name?” He could only come up with such a question like that.

“What is your name?” 

“Fuck you, man.” Mr. Pink stood up from the chair, earning a chuckle from his colleague.

“All right, if you won’t tell me your name, then tell y/n. Y/n should be the only one who can know.”

Mr. Pink turned back to him again. “Y/N?” he says. “That’s her name?”

Mr. White nods. As heated as Mr. Pink was, he knew one day your name would have to fall out of his lips and not a colour, and he wouldn’t mind that. Y/N...

Mr. Pink wouldn’t mind that one bit.

FROM now on, the café near your apartment complex would be your go-to. It was a café not too small but not too big, and no one would bat an eye if you showed up in your pajamas. The following Saturday you went there alone, sipping your coffee and turning to the second page of the morning paper. 

What sucked was the fact that after you were turned down, you came to think that Mr. Pink wouldn’t be able to see how cool the interior was. He sure was missing out. Sure his Thai stick won’t be stinking up your living room while throwback songs from the ‘70s play on the radio, but indeed, sucks for him.

“Shit, you were right, y/n. This place is pretty neat.”

The newspaper crinkled when you lowered it down. Standing at the foot of your booth was Mr. Pink. This time he didn’t have on his silly Hawaiian shirt like last time, and no, he didn’t ironically wear pink as a kind gesture. He did look good in a white tee, though. 

You had to smile. He knew your name. And you wondered how...

“Oh, Mr. Pink. Morning,” you nodded.

He takes a seat in front of you. “C’mon, we’re not at work. Just call me—”

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes

[bird-in-a-cage]

@hotdadlicense, part two of your ask!

#45 “Lets get wasted and then go piss on his grave.”

Release

Hawkins had exactly two bars; the bar out east and the bar our west. The bar out east was called Dixies’, it was definitely the rowdier of the two, notoriously known for not carding so it was wildly popular with college kids returning home for the holidays desperate to escape the crushing boredom of family life, and old enough looking high school kids. The cops tended to leave it alone, maybe raiding once or twice a year but always with a few hours notice. As far as law enforcement was concerned if these kids were in a building drinking they weren’t doing it on the street, so less work for them and the community. For the greater good and all that crap. 

The bar out west was called The Tavern. It was a little more old school. The wall behind the bar was lined with whiskey and bourbon bottles rather than tequila and different flavoured sambucas. It had an older clientele. Steve liked working there, whenever he came back from college for the holidays and wanted to pick up a few shifts here and there to help save money to move to Chicago permanently. He didn’t like drinking there though, the air was too smokey and there wasn’t a good looking person in sight, but in many ways they helped. Dixies’ was for fun. The Tavern was for work. Regulars seemed to like him too, only if they could ask about his father and what the old man was up to now, trying to rub elbows for a potential business deal or to get an invite to the Christmas party up at the cabin. Steve was more than used to it, played along just enough to bump his tips.

They didn’t need to know he hadn’t spoken to either of his parents in a good six months, and that his father was busy cosying up to some woman younger than Steve in Milan or that his mother was getting trashed daily in the Bahamas, making eyes at pool boys. Frankly Steve didn’t need to know that either, why they didn’t just divorce years back he never understood. But then, he never really understood his parents on any level.

So, whenever he would come back to the holidays it was purely to make money. He had an empty house to live in and didn’t have to pay a dime for apart from to put food in the fridge. He would rather stay in Chicago though. He liked his life up there. It was so different from being stuck in small town America where nothing exciting happened. The most exciting thing that had happened since he’d been away from January was a new stop sign getting erected by the elementary school. Chicago was alive. He had friends there. Friends he could sometimes make out with. Friends who actually wanted to be around him by choice and not by circumstance, something which he’d learned the difference pretty quickly after leaving the first time.

There wasn’t really anyone around from the old days. Nancy had moved to DC to pursue political journalism. Jonathan had found his way to Seattle, a place which by all handed down stories suited him perfectly. Even Tommy and Carol had gone. The rumor was they’d had a bit of a shotgun wedding after a pregnancy scare and skipped town to New Mexico to go stay with Tommy’s grandma.

Steve couldn’t imagine how fun that was.

He was tending the bar alone. Thursday night, so not exactly a hive of activity. His regulars had come and gone. Mr Jones was propping up the end of the bar, barely awake, not from drink just because he was old now and he just fell asleep sometimes. Things in Hawkins never changed. The entrance was pushed open, and in staggered a face Steve hadn’t seen in years, one he was certain had skipped town by now.

Billy fucking Hargrove.

The last time they’d seen each other was before Steve had left for college. They’d maybe fooled around once or twice that summer but it wasn’t anything serious. Turns out they were only beating the crap out of each other in high school because of some weird sexual tension that would spill over and become beat downs in the parking lot. Outside of the hallways, away from prying eyes, with a chance to actually use their words, they kind of got on. Even if Billy was still kind of a pushy asshole.

Billy didn’t look great though, decidedly drunk as he made his way over to the bar, dressed completely in black. Pants, shoes, belt, his old leather jacket and a plain shirt which he was making quick work of undoing a couple of the top buttons of. His hair was cut short, but not too short, and he’d gotten another piercing in the same ear as his signature hoop. But aside from that, he looked just the same. It was a real blast from the past.

“Whiskey please,” he muttered, rummaging around in his pocket for his wallet. He hadn’t noticed who was behind the bar yet.

“You know, legally, I’m not allowed to serve you if you’re already drunk,” Steve said with a smile, trying to be as kind as possible. He didn’t know what Billy was like now. He could still have that wicked hair trigger for all Steve knew. And he really didn’t want to have to deal with glass getting thrown around. It was a nightmare to clean up. Billy’s head popped up from his lap at the sound of Steve’s voice. His blue eyes were glassy. Like marbles. Just as loose too. He grinned and let on the bar. He was definitely using it for support.

“Stevie!” He slurred around his tongue. Yup, wasted. “What are you doin’ here? Nevermind, whiskey please ol’ friend. For me and everyone here! ‘Cause why the fuck not huh?” Billy slapped a dollar bill on the bar and fought with his jacket to rip it off. There was a light dusting of a boot mark on the side of his shirt, just above his hip. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“You got kicked out of Dixies’, didn’t you?”

“Mayybee,” Billy giggled, before staring right at Steve, waiting for his drink. “And the liquor store closed already so you’re my only hope ol’ friend, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal of mine!”

Steve sighed and checked the time on his watch, there was still an hour before he could close up. There was no way he was going to ply Billy with more alcohol, so he gave him a glass of water instead, which received a very annoyed look in return. “Drink that first then maybe.”

Billy muttered something dark under his breath but wasn’t so far gone he was going to start a fight. He grabbed the glass roughly and took a sip. His ring hit off the rim and echoed dull. “What you doin’ here anyway? Thought you’d escaped this shithole.”

Before Steve left they’d spoken about escaping this town. Billy was more desperate for it than Steve was. He had dreams of going back to California, staying near the coast, surfing everyday, maybe going to study mechanical engineering, something practical he could do with his hands. By the looks of it they were still just dreams. The story he’d heard from Dustin one time was, before the conversation was quickly changed, was his whole home life had gone to even more shit than it already was. Billy’s stepmom got sick so couldn’t work, his dad jumped back on the wagon with abandon so didn’t work, leaving Billy to make sure Max got through high school and all the bills were paid at the end of every month single handed.

“He’s still a dick, but he’s not that much of a dick anymore. Anyway, how’s the pizza there? Is it awesome?!”

“I come back sometimes,” Steve answered. Billy’s body rolled like a chuckle but no noise came out. “What’s with the look? You ditch the metal and go goth?”

“It was my dad’s funeral today.”

Well, if that didn’t just suck the fun out of everything.

“Shit. Shit man, I’m sorry. I was just having a joke-”

“No no it's okay,” Billy interrupted, smiling again like he hadn’t just dropped a complete bombshell into the middle of their stilted conversation. “I’m not commiseratin’. I’m celebratin’! The old cunt’s heart finally popped. Surprised they fuckin’ found one instead of a black hole…”

Billy drank his water back in one like it was hard liquor. It didn’t look like he was celebrating. Steve refilled the glass quietly.

“How is...everyone?” Steve asked. Because that’s what you did when things like this come up. Least that’s what he had done with funerals in the past. Extending empathy.

Billy shrugged. “Everyone’s fine. Happy to be rid of him.” He ran this thumb around the edge of the glass. It didn’t make a noise. “When’d you getoff?”

Steve felt himself get a little hot under the collar. A long time had passed since that summer, but the memories of it sometimes still remained. Echoes of it all would sometimes dance over his skin if someone he was hooking up with touched him certain ways, or kissed certain spots. As much as they’d hated each other in high school, it had made for some pretty fun make up sex. But no, Billy was far too gone for any of that. And Steve wasn’t about to start being that guy, hanging around his childhood home and hooking up with old flames because there was nothing better to do other than watch the corn grow. “About an hour. Why?”

Billy felt around in his pockets for what felt like an age before tossing his keys behind the bar into the corner. They landed with a metallic clatter against the floor. “I shouldn’t drive. Can you take me somewhere?”

“Bill-”

“Please?” For a moment Billy actually looked vulnerable. Steve had never seen that before. It didn’t suit him. Not in the slightest. “I’m a fuckin’ orphan now man just, please? Then I’ll leave you alone. And you can escape again. Just one place.”   

There was that too. Steve had learnt through Dustin, who’d learnt through Will, who’d gotten it off Jane, who’d gotten it from Max herself, that Billy’s mom died when he was a kid. Apparently it was rough, but he never talked about it. Just wore it around his neck like a constant weight, let it wear him down and let the sadness feed the anger. Two snakes chasing each other’s tails. And Max wasn’t around back then to have seen it. It was all second hand stories heard through her stepfather. God only knew how much of a reliable narrator he was. 

Steve really didn’t want to be a babysitter again, he’d left those days in the past even if Dustin still sent him a mother’s day card for a joke. He really didn’t want to have to babysit a drunk, emotionally unstable adult. But he couldn’t exactly leave Billy to his own devices. Not when he was like this. God only knew what he was capable of anymore.

“One place?” He reiterated, just to make sure. Billy’s glassy eyes lit up as much as they could.

“Just one. That’s all. I promise.”

“Fine,” Steve said, going for sounding annoyed by it all, but he probably just came off as normal. Taking care of other people. That’s what he did best. Even at college he was Dorm Mom, leaving out glasses of water and snacks and advil. It was something that was never going to leave him. Maybe he just had to accept that. Billy smiled, probably about as close to warm as he could manage and leant down to scoop his jacket off the floor.

“I’ll get you outside. Yous still drive that shitty beamer right?”

He was staggering away before Steve even had time to answer. His quiet night plans of just going to sleep were in tatters.

-

Billy was sitting on the ground when Steve finished and had locked up for the night, clearly not giving a damn about the dry dirt he was getting over his pants, or all up the side of Steve’s car where he was leaning, swigging from a small half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. Steve couldn’t even pretend to not be annoyed. It was late, he’d been on his feet for six hours, and he wanted to go home and eat something. Not be taken on a drunken adventure.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, walking over to his car to open it up and get them both inside. He wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible. Billy scrambled to his feet without help but just creating a little cloud of dust.

“I had it’in my pocket the whoooole time. Don’t tell the barman. He might get mad at me.”

“Might huh?” God this was going to be a long night. It was already a long night. Steve got into the driver’s side, Billy sprawled himself into the passenger seat, somehow worse than before. He just had to keep reminding himself that Billy had a rough day. The roughest of rough days whether he would ever admit it or not. “So, where am I driving you too?”

“The church.” Billy took another swig and Steve wanted to just bat that bottle out of his hands already, but he didn’t want the car he used barely three months out of the year to stink of bourbon the next time he got in it and be reminded of all this.

“The church? There’s four churches in this town, you’re gonna have to help me out more on that one.”

Two bars. Four churches. Welcome to the midwest.

“The one with the tree...” Billy slowly spread his arms out to imitate branches, tilting his head to make the shape in his mind.

Steve wound his hand tight around the steering wheel, still trying to give the benefit of the doubt but this was already driving him crazy. “Yeah, no, still gonna have to work a little harder helping me out here man. I’m not a mind reader.”

BIlly sighed dramatic and loud, ripping a flyer from an inner jacket pocket and thrusting it under Steve’s nose for him to take. Neil Hargrove’s funeral flyer. Oh. Oh god they were going to do this? There was no way Steve wanted to sit in his car and listen to Billy cry or whatever while staring at a fresh grave. He signed on for a ride home, maybe once through the drive thru to sober the guy up, not get strapped into the emotional rollercoaster that was maybe about to start.

But they were both here. And Billy had just finished the bottle and tossed it out the door to smash to pieces in a far off part of the parking lot hidden by darkness. Steve couldn’t kick him out now. Nothing about who he was as a person would let him. He still sighed annoyed about the whole thing though, and started the engine, driving off to the edge of town where this church was. Billy was relatively quiet on the drive, staring out the window at passing street lights, warm yellow dots reflecting in his eyes. Steve wanted to make conversation, maybe ask how it had been, what he’d been up to, what his plans were now Max was getting close to graduating, but it didn’t seem right to do so. How do you really flow into a conversation about how you’ve been stuck in a place you despise for longer than you ever wanted to be, and you’re now an orphan to boot. Even though Steve never saw his parents, a fact he was more than used to since he turned thirteen, he still couldn’t imagine them dying. Just being left alone forever. They called a few times a year. They were horrible people but they were still his parents. It was something Steve didn’t want to think about too hard. 

Billy still had enough common courtesy left to roll the window down a crack before lighting up a cigarette though. So there was that at least.

The church was quiet and dark. As it should be past midnight. Steve parked up out front and followed Billy’s staggering steps as he suddenly knew exactly where he was going and went with drunken determination. At least Steve hoped that he knew where he was going. He stayed a couple paces behind, had brought a flashlight just in case Billy stumbled or anything and needed to be picked up out of the headstones before someone called the police on them trespassing. Steve didn’t need that on his record, and he dreaded to think how long Billy’s must be by now.

Even in the dark Neil Hargrove’s stone looked brand new. It was light grey granite. Didn’t have a lot of words etched into it. Just his name, the dates of his life, and the words ‘son, father, husband’. Steve flashed his light over it, watched Billy stand to attention and lean over the fresh dirt, a leg keeping him stable on either side of it, body close to the stone. He laughed darkly and spat venom at the letters.

“You fuckin’ deserve this. Fuckin’ cunt.”

For what felt like slow, painful hours there were only the sounds of Billy’s heavy laboured breaths, little metallic echoes of a belt and zipper being undone, then the ungodly splash of piss, quickly evolving into an endless stream that just kept coming and coming. Steve was frozen to the spot he picked a few feet back. He wanted to at least not illuminate the for sure crime he was witness to now, but no part of him could move. Just in shock. Steve had joked about stuff like this sure, but do actually do it? Billy laughed as it just kept coming, cackling and howling in delight to no one but himself.

Like he’d been waiting his whole life to unload like this.

Eventually the stream came to an end, he audibly tucked himself away and spat again, before either the drink or the emotion of the day finally got too much, and he collapsed flat on his back in the grass. Probably where he’d stood earlier in the daylight to check his father was really dead. That seemed like a Billy thing to do. Steve waited a few beats before stepping closer, making sure not to shine the light directly into his glassy marbles and more aim it towards his heaving chest.

“Feel better?” was all he could come up with to say. What’s even normal to say after watching someone piss on their own father’s grave, no matter how much you hate them? Billy grinned wide, his lips reaching to his ears almost, and laughed. He sounded free.

“I’ve been waitin’ to do that alllll day!”

“You don’t say,” Steve couldn’t help but smile, and bent over to help Billy up from his sprawled state. He was quite the lump to move but was soon on his feet with his arm slung over Steve’s shoulder and moving without needing pulled. Steve held onto his waist to keep him upright and in a straight line. He smelt horrific.

“Can we get pizza? Really want pizza.” Billy slurred as his head found its way onto Steve’s shoulder easily, like all the fight and hate and decades of built up resentment and anger had literally just been pissed away. 

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah man. We can get pizza.”

[catharrington]

12 and 128 with billy and Steve?

Y’all really really do be trying me with this domestic stuff. I’m so sorry but I just don’t write mpreg so I’m changing it up a little. I was playing around with tags on this post and @thinger-strang asked where’s the meat?? Here it is bae!! Dedicated to U ;)

***

12- “I’m pregnant.” && 128- “Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Steve has never been to a gym before, really never wanted to. He has always played sports. Outside! In the sunlight and fresh air, not inside a stuffy box crammed with sweating dude bros who didn’t seem to like using the showers for their functions. He’s here, at Robin’s request, with an overpriced membership to Planet Fitness Gym, only because he’s a good friend.

“Okay! I am so, so done,” Robin huffs out as she throws the exercise ball she was using, it bounces against the mirrored wall and almost comes crashing back into her. She turns to Steve with a grimace. “I’m going to use the last bit of time just running. You coming?”

And of course Steve was joining her, she’s the only reason he’s suffering in this place. “Sounds fantastic.”

So Steve slips back on his loose hanging tank top while Robin cleans up their area. Then she’s leading out to a slightly raised running track that winds around the whole gym floor. It takes the runner past each area and room then loops back around to make a lap. Robin’s pushing her headphones on her fluffed up hair, the grimace still on her face.

“How much longer, exactly?” Steve asks innocently, but she’s already started off without him.

Steve has to run to catch up then settles into a soft jog next to her. He didn’t bring his headphones, why didn’t he bring his headphones. He could be zoning out as much as Robin is now. Instead he’s submitted himself to the entertainment of the gym around him.

And sure, it’s interesting. Lots of girls with ill fitting training bras bouncing, lots of tshirts with funny inspirational sayings. Lots of people struggling through their workouts with even funnier faces.

It’s especially interesting when they get to the weight lifting area. The equipment set up around the clean white floors and walls look like torture devices, Steve couldn’t bring himself to image how they worked. Jogging past he noticed one that you moved like wings and one that you kicked out, all with wires and huge metal weights, all with jacked out super serious people working them.

One guy is slinging two lengths ropes up and down, then stops to take his shirt off to wipe his forehead. An oh, Steve doesn’t mind that so much.

Then he jogs past to the last room before a curve and it’s a simple one, Mostly empty, except for a few standard lifting benches. And there’s only one guy occupying it. He’s looking at himself in the mirror and God, Steve is looking at him too.

This guy could be Adonis turned rock star, with his long curled blond hair pushed back with a folded bandana in replacement of a sweatband. He’s shirtless with only the smallest of small cotton shorts on and he’s flexing in long languid sweeps of his arms. Poses, moves, poses, Steve’s glued.

Then the guy flexes one bicep, just the one closest to Steve of course, and happens to turn over his shoulder to admire himself. And their eyes meet. And Steve’s still glued, still looking, his mouth must be hanging open he’s so embarrassingly staring.

And this guy, this Greek god, a total babe, keeps his eyes locked with Steve while he leans down to plant a wet, open mouthed kiss on his taught, sun-kissed muscles.

Steve’s heart stops, full stops, but his feet do not. They twist and collide one after the other like a car crash, and he sends himself tumbling to the ground with a squeak.

In a weak attempt to stop, Steve stretches out his arms. But he only manages to grip the back of Robin’s baggy shirt and bring her down with him.

“You are a complete dingus!” She screeches as she shoves Steve’s lanky limbs off her.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers softly, scrambling to his knees. He pushes his hands through his sweaty hair. And yeah, he can feel how flushed his skin is. He knows he is blushing tomato red. Steve doesn’t, he can’t, look back over at the guy who caused all this by being so amazingly distracting.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mutters again. Robin throws her hands up. Then she’s stomping off towards the ladies’ locker room. Steve has nothing to do but trudge off towards the men’s locker room, his tail between his legs.

By some grace Steve is saved meeting eyes with anyone else, and the locker room is empty. He rips into his locker to collect his towel. Steve pushes his sweaty face into the material and just screams.

“So smooth, so smooth you idiot!” He scolds himself.

There’s no way that guy is going to see Steve as anything other than a joke, a weirdo who tripped over his own feet. Maybe Steve will even have to quit the gym membership after only one day. Maybe he’ll just tuck himself in bed and never come back out.

Sitting on the benches, Steve’s hanging his head in defeat. His towel around his neck and hair in a messy curtain over his face.

He doesn’t see the door to the locker room open up. “Hey,” some guy calls.

Steve is seized with fear, yeah he’s really about to get kicked out of this gym for being a bisexual disaster. He brings his head up slowly.

“Oh,” he gapes as he sees the same Adonis as before, now standing only feet in front of him. Still shirtless, Steve notices. He’s even better looking up close.

“Wanted to say sorry about that,” the guy is smiling and Steve wants to die, “I didn’t mean to distract you or make you fall down. I was just being an asshole.”

“Nah it’s okay,” Steve stutters out. Then he notices how this guy has thick eyebrows; just as thick as his thighs glistening on display. His brows have a cut down one. And the other is currently raised a little in question.

“Oh- oh no! I don’t mean you being an asshole is okay! It’s just ah,” Steve feels his face flush red again. “I’m just a clutz naturally, I likely would have eaten shit on that track with or without a seriously hot guy with great muscles- oh. I didn’t mean to say that. Shit.” Steve has to stop talking too fast. He sounds so dumb sometimes, he scolds himself more as he buries his face back into his towel.

“It’s okay,” the guy is laughing now, laughing at him. But he keeps talking. “You were really... cute.”

That has Steve lifting his face from his towel. Scoffing a little chuckle himself, he pushes his hair back out of his face and sits up straighter. “How rude of me,” he stands up to hold out a hand, “I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Billy,” the guy, Billy, slides forward easy to take his hand in his. It’s big, warm, rough in lots of spots, and his fingers are thick just like every other damn thing on him.

“Hello Billy,” Steve says. The shake is quick, don’t make it awkward, but Steve misses his hand as soon as it’s gone.

“Sorry, again, I made you take a tumble back there, Bambi.” Billy stops Steve’s heart for a second time, but the wide hungry grin he’s wearing starts it right back up. Shocks Steve to his core with the electric power he has.

Steve doesn’t want to look away from Billy’s bright blue eyes crinkling in the corners with the force of his smile, his smile for Steve, oh wow. But he does glance down when Billy sips a piece of paper out of his shorts pocket to offer him.

“If you want those pretty doe legs worked out a bit, I’d be happy to help with some tips in exchange.”

What Steve wants is to scream. Wants to spin in a circle. Instead, he casually takes the paper. Glances it over. Nods. Internally faints. It’s a folded paper with information printed out for a beginners lifting class, ‘any size & any age’ it reads. And under the slogan, in the margin between room number and time, is a hand drawn cartoon of Billy lifting a barbell with one arm. His bicep curvy and huge, and one of his cute little cartoon eyes closed in a wink.

Under the drawing is a hastily scribbled phone number. Billy’s phone number. Steve is shaking with effort.

“Give me a call, Bambi. I’ll reserve a spot for you,” Billy calls over his shoulder as he walks back out of the locker room.

Steve has to close his eyes to remember to breath after Billy walks out. He goes to spin around to his locker again, already dreaming about all the nicknames and emojis he’s going to put next to Billy’s contact name, when his shin cracks against the wood of the bench. He goes crashing to the floor. Second time in one day. At least Billy isn’t here to see it this time.

After Steve showered and nursed his bruised ego enough, he slips out of the locker room. Phone in hand as he looks fondly down at his new contact.

Billy God of Hot Bod 👅💦💪🏻

“Robin, guess what?”

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.” Robin shoves off his thin finger jabbing into her side.

He shrugs. “Oh so you don’t want to know?”

She shoots him a hateful glare over her shoulder. They walk out to the parking lot and stop at Steve’s car, standing flush up on the doors and talking over the roof. “Know what?” She finally bites.

“The good news?” He wiggles his phone for her to see.

Robin furrows her brows as she tries to read the phone. “Good news?” She mimics.

“I’m pregnant.”

Robin almost screams at his terrible joke. She slams the door as she climbs in the car and orders Steve to take her home now. While they drove Steve might have talked the whole time about how Billy’s fingers felt, but who could blame him.

[alias-b]

Eros & Psyche: SOMY drabble

Billy Hargrove x Evie Fenny: Whump with a Happy Ending Drabble

~Evie contemplates her past relationship after getting together with Billy. ((No real fic spoilers, it’s no secret that Billy & Evie are soulmates & Endgame. Just some extra words for them to touch.)) TW: Talk of past grooming/Abusive student& teach relationship.

Whew, I wrote something, guys. Lol named is sorta after an existing chp bc I'm shameless. xoxo askbox open. Goodnight! :)))

He’s perfect.

Heaven carved her a prince from all her favorite fairy tales. Dash of charming. Sprinkle of classical good looks. A darling smile. Enough to melt any girl. Evangeline had no chance.

Fredrick always included Evie in his life. Well, the part of it no one else was involved in. That counted. She told herself it did.

Hawkins couldn’t know how much he loved her. She was sure that truly ached him. 

She was pretty sure.

Fredrick included Evie in what was under his mask. She told herself that was what mattered most of all. His true self and it was bared. All hers and hers alone.

She told herself.

Evie was telling herself lots of things these days. Fredrick called her a classic over-thinker. She didn’t need to think, she had him. He’d guide her along. Being wise and experienced of course. All she needed to do was let go and trust him.

But, he was perfect.

Fredrick took her to parties with other thirty year olds. Always held her hand. Said the right thing. Brought her under one arm. Introduced her as if he was thrilled and proud she was with him. Showed her off like a new designer watch. Fredrick liked to buy Evie designer things too in lace.

Things that made for a better pose in cotton sheets. Pictures she claimed she was too shy to let him take. 

He’d press a tight smile. Telling her it was enough to have her trapped in his thoughts. 

The, he’d unzip his pants. The sound prickled under her skin.

“This is Evangeline,” he boasted at parties, “my girl.”

Men and women extended their hands. Fussed over her. She just looked so youthful. She must have secrets.

“For now,” Fredrick said in the car once, “just tell anyone who asks that you’re nineteen.” He smiled and caressed her cheek. Fredrick always said the right thing. “You’re too beautiful. I love you so much.”

Slowly, he unzipped his pants.

All Evie wanted to do was please him. See that smile. See the lights behind it because he was hers and she was a moth drawn to them. Fredrick liked most that she was his too. He came to her upon a deathly white horse with a silken, red cape upon his back. Bought her lace and flowers.

Fed her only a certain amount and took plates away before she was finished. 

“There’s this silk nightie I want to buy you, but it’s just a smidge too small. Couple pounds should do it. Not that I think you need to lose it.” He cared so much. Evie welled and drank her cool water down. Swallowed the ice cubes when he went to the kitchen. 

They drank quite a bit. He liked her swaying and loose. Not alert. Not overthinking too much. Cause he cared. More than anything.

Evie always said no to coke lines. Yes to shots. Yes to the occasional pill that lit shit up inside her. Let her see the night sky in living color. 

Fredrick kept close. He always did. Especially if other men approached her. His arm pulled her back into his orbit. One sharp snap. Another prickle that made her skin pulse.

Europa trapped circling Jupiter and its great red storms. Clinging desperately maybe cause she’s scared and she doesn’t know it. She doesn’t have anywhere to go and no planet will love her or hold her like her Jupiter.

Fredrick could storm too. Could get snappy. Grip her too hard. Leave marks she had to hide from her mother and classmates. It’s all passion. That’s what he said. He loved fierce and unyielding. Just like a prince would, they’re supposed to love hard. 

Evie’s terrified to disappoint him. Terrified to leave the narrative because who would she be without it? She figured that was normal, growing up with the same dynamic in her household. Children wetting the bed cause their parents build these anxieties into them. Phantoms that never leave.

“Letting everyone down would be my greatest unhappiness.” She often repeated that to the mirror. Repeated it when Fredrick was slamming things around. Pretending he’s fine until she’s crawling to unzip his pants and then all is forgiven.

Evie loved being forgiven. Gentle pats and warm embraces into the night. Fingers to swipe her loose tears. Fredrick gave her everything she needed.

Even if he was the one telling her she needed it.

Prince Charming knew to force his kisses and wake the princess. Now she owed a debt. He knew she needed saving from her tower or dragon. She was too helpless to decide her own path. He knew that she had to love him in return to break the curse. She doesn’t get a choice, it’s destiny.

Evie believed in destiny when she met Fredrick. He certainly murmured it into her ear enough. Hushed tones that made her feel cradled. Made her feel found. Made her float.

But, she can’t tell people, “This is Fredrick, my prince.”

Once he screamed at her for even signing a little heart above the “i” in her name during class. All because he cares. Because he’s the prince who knew better. Because no one would ever understand them.

Maybe that was why she loathed Billy upon meeting him that windy autumn day.

Billy Hargrove was the exact opposite. He never pretended to know better. Not as far as Evie’s soul was concerned. Evie didn’t grovel. Didn’t beg his forgiveness for the slightest misstep or incorrect thought. They nipped at each other, but it was an equal exchange.

Billy’s not a prince. He didn’t try to be either.

He didn’t shake her hand when they met. Not until Neil made him. He doesn’t always hold doors. Doesn’t constantly have to have Evie under his arm. Under his eye.

Especially doesn’t start slamming things when she laughs at Tommy’s stupid jokes or shares her drinks with Steve. He didn’t tell her she couldn’t hang out with Heather or Carol without him. Didn’t steer her from her mother or friends. He also didn’t pry for secrets out of mistrust.

He doesn’t care what she does as long as she isn’t getting herself into deep shit. Without him. His words. He’s not perfect and he doesn’t try to be.

Billy drove like shit. He smoked too much. He got into fights. He could be a total sourpuss grump, but he doesn’t grab Evie to leave bruises over it.

He fucked hard though, he always made sure Evie got off. Never unzips unprompted. Girls hit on him and he says that he’s seeing someone. Easy enough. Sometimes gesturing to Evie if she’s in the room. No need to bother her with pointless shit.

They were always aware of each other even if they didn’t interact. Something magical there neither could place.

Billy knew things Fredrick didn’t care to remember about Evie as well. How she’s a talented roller skater. What she liked on her cheeseburger. Her favorite movie snacks. Her order when they grab Chinese. The articles of clothing that always comforted her on bad days. How to gauge her mood by the song she’d hum or the book in her hand.

How she tapped the rhythm of songs she wrote into flesh and hard surfaces. How she wanted to turn the radio up when her favorite song was on, but politely doesn’t always. Billy does it for her.

He doesn’t comment when she eats and doesn’t care what she wears out or to bed.

He’s often trying to piece together the bits of songs he hears her humming and creating. She’ll share them with him one day, he won’t make her.

Billy’s not a prince. He’s probably beaten up a few in his day. But, he remembers. He pays attention. He lets Evie exist as her own soul and take up her own needed space. 

They’re two equal stars twinkling pleasantly in the same shared constellation.

There’s plenty he didn’t tell her. About himself. About his life. Things he wanted to share, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe one day. She needed to trust him enough in that light. And she did.

Before getting together, Evie thought of Billy too often when she was with Fredrick. Especially when she was under him. Counting the seconds before he finished with her. She hadn’t been warmed up enough and her prince was hurting her with his passion. 

She wondered about asking him to stop. If he would. If he’d ignore her and chase his end. If he’d bruise her wrists again. A lot could be said about Billy, but he’d stop.

He wouldn’t ignore this beautiful star he’s so well attuned to. Billy wouldn’t hurt Evie and call it passion. He’d own his shit.

But, they tell her Billy isn’t the prince and the princess always was supposed to end up with her prince. Billy was a lone, glittering god with his own marble pedestal. Unobtainable. Eyes that watch the mortals below.

Maybe he’ll grace them with his presence and a fresh set of shiny arrows. Messy, little Eros with a laundry list of issues and vices he’ll never outrun. Evie didn’t mind to carry a few vices if he’d watch hers too. She was just a mortal girl with dreams higher than stars could go. Piled with dead weight as Fredrick collapsed into her. Smothering her. 

And Evie’s first thought was always the shine of Billy’s eyes blaring into her after Fredrick dropped her at the end of Cherry Land so she could walk home. Defeated and wanting for more. They broke her heart.

Fredrick pushed down. Crushed her until Evie was gasping herself awake in her own bed. Eons later after she left him. After he shattered her already.

“Squirming more than usual.” A voice in the pillows next to her muttered. Billy groaned, turning over like he was annoyed. 

Evie knew he wasn’t. She didn’t feel her heart give an unpleasant clench like she’d upset him. One arm slung over her stomach as Billy stretched back out on his front, facing her. A barely there glow from the moon trickled between the curtains showing his lashes fluttering.

“Just a dream.” Evie reached out and traced a line into his shoulder. Let her finger trail up to tap his nose. Made him scrunch and look sorta adorable.

“Well, it’s over.” Billy closed his eyes. Nestled into her heat. “Try rolling for another.”

“I like this better.” She caught his lip twitching up. Billy remained silent for a while there. Almost lulling back to sleep. He shifted up. Revived Evie with a simple, cathartic kiss. Mapping more across her cheek as lazy as can be. 

They still felt carefully packaged. Billy had a way with careless affection that was still so striking and beautiful. Flaming arrows through her heart. 

They don’t hurt. So few things hurt with Billy. Evie liked to think she returned that.

His arm tightened.

“I’ll roll this time.”

And Evie could let him without sacrificing her own agency. Her own narrative.

Fingers reached up to draw select gold curls aside. She decided princes were small and overrated. Billy had wings and he had light and he had a swelter of carefully exposed nerves that he trusted Evie to pluck. A heart he let her guard. He wouldn’t ask but she’d give that back.

Love cannot exist without soul. Without trust. 

Evie pushed up to meet his oncoming kiss. Brought him back down to touch the soft earth with her. Where they felt safe together.

She realized it then as Billy shifted up to see her there. Fredrick never made her feel safe, he just used her to save himself. Sunk his teeth in to suck her dry of vitality so he could have it. 

She didn’t ask Billy if he trusted her. Didn’t tell him in this moment that she trusted him. That was destiny. Not the draining of your soul until you’re forced to give it over.

Sometimes it was just knowing the obvious placement of stars. Glittery dust might sprinkle delicately over them.

“Let’s roll later,” Evie nudged her head into his, “always time for dreaming. But, I think I want to be wide awake right now. Hope that’s not too disappointing.” Hands shifted around his shoulders. A fuller smile crossed and Billy matched it. Blue eyes glinting almost iridescent. He hummed in thought. Seemed to agree. 

“Evangeline,” he sounded out with some lazy amusement, “you couldn’t disappoint me if you tried, you know that?” Billy settled himself against her. Continued to map his euphoric paths. Stroking her cheek and hair. Sparking. Hushing. “Hope you know that much, Angel.”

“I know, Billy,” she sighed out to the forgiving cloak of night, “I do.”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Kids Getting Older (Sriracha, Part 30.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could keep you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Since you realized that Eleven is getting older and more distant from both you and Jim, you just seem to finally realize how quickly kids grow... And that maybe the kids are not just kids anymore.

A/N: I love this weird family dynamic so much. It is really relaxing to just write a... Normal family dynamic. But that is going to end with the next part. Stay tuned!

Word count: 1.7 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @creedslove @missdictatorme

Master list: H E R E

Christmas holiday spent like a family? The Christmas of 1984 were the best Christmas you had lived through. You spent Christmas Eve in the house of your parents, cooking the dinner with El and mom, and Aiden's girlfriend - you couldn't believe she is real - while you let the boys talk about stuff and drink some Whiskey. Even Aiden got some - just a little, though.

The other day, when you opened all the presents you found under the tree, you left for Joyce's - and holy moly, that house was living. Both Wheelers were there, both Byers boys came along, there were Dustin, Lucas, and Max, even Steve came by. Joyce had a big heart and her house was big enough to take in so many people.

You forced both Hopper and Eleven to pose on a photo with you, having Jonathan taking the picture of you. Each of you had the most disgusting Christmas sweater, just because Aiden bought and gave you these bad boys - Hopper's was too tight, Eleven's too big and your, no matter the size, was just disgusting. After that, kids took their new toys and went to play outside while the adults, along with Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, remained in the house and had a cup of the special Christmas hot chocolate from Mrs. Byers herself.

Then, each of the kids got dressed up and went out for a snowball fight, snowman building and some sledding in the forest behind the house. And bet Hopper’s best shirt that you made him go too. Soon enough, you were there with all the teenagers while he stuck some snow under your jacket, hearing you laugh and scream out loud, having Will and Mike in total terror when you jumped around, trying to get the snow out. In the end, you formed a strong alliance with Eleven and Max, giving the boys exactly what they deserved, winning the fight completely. Then, to calm down, you proceeded to make some angels in the snow while Hop went back inside.

As the year progressed, Eleven started to have a few sleepovers here and there - sometimes, she stayed at Karen’s when boys had a movie or game nights, sometimes you had Max over for dinner. And let me say, since she was living with an asshat like Billy, her older brother, she loved spending time at your place. Especially when Hop had to stay at the station.

When talking about Hop, that man was experimenting. And you didn't know if you liked what you had at home or if you're afraid of what’s he going to come up with next. First came the mustache. Okay, he liked Magnum P.I., you could understand. Then, he put on a bit weight - he appeared taller and more like a bear than ever before. You didn't mind that at all actually because at least, you knew that he's happy with you. And... After that... The wardrobe and cologne experiments came by. Sometimes he pulled out such an outfit that you dragged him to the restaurant’s bathroom to kiss the living fuck out of him and to have a quickie on the bathroom.

Yet, sometimes, he wasn’t looking his best. At those mornings, you stood there, watched him with gritted teeth and walked around with your eyebrows raised. You tried to tell him gently that these maybe aren't working for him the way he would like to and that maybe, you could visit Starcourt with him to pick something else. But Jim was Jim and completely ignored your opinion when it came to fashion.

Starcourt. One of the best Bloomington-Hawkins inventions ever. You loved that place - from the big cinema to a variety of shops it had. Sometimes, when you knew that El won't be misbehaving after, you took there with you so she could choose some new clothes, sometimes you bought her an ice-cream, other times you just walked around the place and talked about boys and stuff. Especially about Mike.

Oh, you remembered the day when the three-inch rule came to your house. You were just watching a movie, curled under Hopper’s arms, being caught up in the chase. That was when a sudden burst of Eleven’s laughter could be heard, making Hop alarmed in a second. You tried to calm him down around this couple - it was the first love and it sure as hell was an intense one. You knew that these two were having make-out sessions behind the closed door... But were you two, you and Hop, any different when you met? No. You were kissing the living hell out of each other when any occasion came by, even after you moved back with him again, and since you were both adults, you even fucked every time and on every place, you got the chance to fuck on.

You were just like them - even at that time. But Jim was able to see incredible differences between you and him and Michael, as he called him, and Jane. He wasnt giving them any actual space, so there was no wonder, why Mike thought that Hopper is an old, insane bastard. You and Mike got along since you were normal when put in his words, and let them close the door. You built bridges of trust between you, Mike and Eleven and as long as you trusted them that they won't do anything insane, you let them have their time.

"Okay. That's it. That's it." - Hopper muttered out and got up, walking to the door. You tried to stop him from basically storming into the room, but it was too late. - "This door won't be closed as long as I'm in the house, do you both understand? Three inches at a minimum." - Jim told them with a pretty damn scary face as he showed them how to do it. When he got a nod from both Mike and Eleven, he left them be, still checking the door.

"You're too paranoid, Jim, I'm telling you." - You whispered once he sat down next to you again, cuddling you closer again. - "They're just kids." - You smiled and kissed his cheek, concentrating on the movie again. But Hopper was still very cautious about these two - his eyes were turning into their direction all the time, he was checking what they were doing until the very moment when Mike had to leave.

Over time, when Hopper had enough of constantly opening the door and checking on these two, you let the gang wonder around Hawkins with El, taking hikes in the woods and around the city. Sometimes they went to chill at the old sawmill near the town, but the all-time favorite was the hill about five miles from the city. They hanged there most of the time when spring and weather came.

You also did your best to spend time with Hopper, sometimes taking him for dinner at your favorite Spanish restaurant, sometimes you went for a walk too. But your favorite thing to do was still just hanging out with him at El. Of course, your mom made you visit them at least once a week. She wasnt too good at handling having both her children gone - both of them for college. Even Aiden had a girlfriend and sometimes, you just all went to their household to grill something and to chat. You loved Lena and you couldn't believe that she’s real. Your small bro was manning up rather quickly.

It was so weird since you could say when he and Steve ran naked around the swimming pool and where did he fell from his bike, telling Lena everything in the process, embarrassing the living shit out of Aiden. Naturally, she was first rather surprised about you dating such an older man, but as the time passed by, she got used to that tough guy and his douche jokes.

And Eleven had to say that she had everything she had ever dreamt of in the lab - parents, a family, a boyfriend, and friends. She even wasnt tugged in as a little girl anymore, she was going to bed on her will, with you kissing her whole face with laughter, hugging her tight every time. Her life couldn't be better. She especially loved when you and Jim didn't know she's watching and you put the gramophone on in the night, quietly, usually playing Sam Cooke or Ben E. King to dance in the living room. Jim was always making you laugh, he spun you around, whispered something to your ear, making you biting your lip as you smacked his shoulder - but for Eleven it was of sing that she can count on you.

But then, summer came by. You hadn't got any idea of why it was so weird. Eleven asked you if she can stay at Max’s on the fourth of July and even if you thought you’d celebrate it together, you let her have her time. You didn't have any idea of what was going on when Hopper suddenly disappeared without letting behind any message. Nobody gave you a clue that there are Russians set loose in and under Hawkins and that there is a fucking D&D monster who was possessing people with the help of Max’s brother himself.

On day two of loneliness, that was the fourth of July precisely, you had enough - you left to your moms and stayed there, waiting for anything. A call, a sign, for one of them showing up. But there was nothing. So you left for the shift that day - and that was where everything was set in motion without anyone of you normal people knowing.

[elsb-hrngtons]

We can help each other, You and me- Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Links to Ao3 in notes

Well isn't this a pleasant surprise, Steve fucking Harrington caught literally with his hand down his pants. Billy is delighted if not a little awkward, the situation isn’t exactly ideal, but it's a vast improvement from the last time he and Tommy ran into Steve.

How he managed to sneak in without either of them hearing him he’s not sure, he guesses he was too caught up with Tommy’s dick in his ass to really pay attention to his surroundings, which is very bad form especially if you’re fucking at your work place. Billy would be pissed, and very worried about being caught in an incredibly compromising position, with another guy no less, if it were not glaringly obvious that Steve the dirty little pervert, had just got himself off to the very same compromising position.

In fact this whole thing actually presents them with a pretty sweet opportunity, and if handled well all three boys could be a winner in this. Or it could all go wrong again and Billy and Tommy will be left licking their wounds.

Harrington looks like he’s ten seconds from throwing up, and honestly Billy can sympathise, getting caught jerking off has to be embarrassing, and well he and Tommy are no better, he did just have Tommy’s railing him not 5 minutes ago. If he didn’t know any better he’d say Steve has a really severe case of sunburn with how hard he’s blushing, avoiding their gaze sat uncomfortable with cum drying on his hand and no doubt in his shorts, but when Billy chances a look at Tommy, the poor boy’s not faring much better, freckled splattered skin, complemented by a rather deep shade of pink, he’s staring down at Harrington, mouth agape as if he can’t quite believe what he’s witnessed, and to be fair Billy can’t either, but Billy is the only one in the scenario who appears to be functioning like a human being, so to break the tension he decides to open his big mouth.

“Ya know Harrington I’m glad you showed up” he smirks trying for cool, collected, aloof. Steve still closely resembles a tomato and had been avoiding making eye contact up until now looks shocked, visibly flinching, probably preparing himself for an onslaught of insults, maybe even a beating, he’s biting his lip with an adorable little crease between his brows and then shifts his gaze back onto his lap, incapable of holding their stares for very long. “Freckles here was just talking about a little get together he’s having at his place tonight” Billy slaps Tommy on the back as he moves closer to Steve, taking up the seat next to him and nudging Steve in his side with his elbow. “Weren’t you Tommy?”

Tommy looks as if his brain is still malfunctioning, on a 10 second delay or some shit, Billy swears he can actually see the cogs turning in his mind as he clues into what Billy is doing and his trademark boyish grin splits his face.

“Oh yeah. You know nothing major, just a few beers, maybe some weed. You should come!” Tommy slides in on the other side of Steve, who once again looks around at the two, complete surprise etching his pretty features, he still hasn’t said two words and Billy’s not convinced he’s not lost all ability to talk at this point, that the shame hasn’t rendered his vocal cords permanently useless.

“Tell ya what.” Billy states leaning in closer, not missing how Steve tenses ever so slightly at this intrusion. “I’ve invited Heather, how about you invite your lady friend, the one who’s always hanging around you, and we make a night of it” Billy’s all charm now, laying it on as thick as he possibly can, maybe it's for Steve’s benefit, maybe it's for his own to save face or something, he doesn’t care, all he cares about is Steve’s response, if Steve ever does respond.

Steve swallows hard, throat bobbing jaggedly as he tries to regain composure and the ability to speak.

“Err yeah.. Sounds… sounds good.” Steve’s voice is harsh, but at least his blush is receding slightly, he appears to be choking down on his embarrassment.

“Great!” Billy claps his hands together as he jumps up. “We’ll see you at nine Pretty Boy” and with that Billy is dragging Tommy back out of the locker room, and back out into the heat of the Indianna summer.

###

Fucking great. Not only was Steve a monumental pervert, he was caught being a monumental pervert. It's like life's one big joke and he’s the punchline.

He’s mortified and all he wants to do is drown himself in the pool. But if he did that there would be no ‘party’ at Tommy’s, no chance to right his wrongs of the last time he attempted to test the waters with Billy and Tommy, and sure he feels right at this moment like he could die of embarrassment, the other boys appeared to take it in their stride and brush off Steve’s indiscretions like they were nothing. He’s not sure if that's a good thing or not.

Steve’s in a daze, in shock as he attempts to clean himself up best he can, but even standing under the spray of the shower for 15 minutes won’t wash away the dried spunk in his trunks, the very tangible evidence of his shame and apparently newly discovered hobby of voyeurism. He loosely wraps a towel around his waist to hide the obvious cum stains and steels himself in the mirror before making his way out into the pool area.

The brightness of the day is almost blinding and Steve has to give himself a moment for his vision to adjust from the darkness of the locker room before he can focus on where he and Robin had set up base. No surprises, she isn’t where he left her, he scans the general area, quickly averting his gaze from where Billy sits atop his makeshift throne and Tommy just beside him, he’s still recovering from the severe dent in his pride, he glances over the pool and still can’t see her. Then as he’s about to give up his search to go sit back on the lounger and wait for Robin to appear from wherever she disappeared to, he spots her a few feet away, blue slushie in hand talking animatedly to Heather Holloway of all people.

He knows he should probably hang back, give Robin at least a fighting chance at talking to the literal girl of her dreams, but Steve’s two seconds away from an emotional breakdown of his own making and while he’s come on in leaps and bounds in the last couple of years, he isn’t entirely selfish and right now he really needs to get out of here, he needs Robin to talk him through his impending anxiety attack, and maybe to stick his head between his knees and to breath in and out of a brown paper bag.

He strides over as smoothly as he can holding on tightly to the towel around his waist as if it's some kind of life line, and in a sense it is, if anyone were to see the state of his shorts he’ll probably die. Robin spots him and she ushers him over.

“Oh there you are! Where the hell have you been!?” she both asks and exclaims as if she’s accusing him of something, chastising him like a mother.

“I’ll tell you later,” he mutters.

“Oh this is Heather by the way!” she says excitedly gesturing towards the female lifeguard, who’s smiling something genuine, even though he can’t see her eyes through her sunglasses, he knows Heather well enough to know she’s a nice girl who’s entirely incapable of being a dick.

“Oh actually, me and Steve already know each other” she says sweetly.

“Hey.” Steve turns to Heather before entirely dismissing her, he knows he’s being rude, being a bad friend, but he’s also desperate and he’s hoping he can convey the urgency enough in his voice without coming across as too much like an asshole. “Robin. We have to go.”

“What!? Why? We just got here Steve” Robin sputters, she sounds exasperated and to be fair she’s justified, he realises, Steve’s being completely unreasonable out of context.

“I’ll explain later. We have to go.” he states, grabbing Robin by the elbow, jerking her away from Heather and dragging her towards the sun loungers where their things have been left.

“Okay, okay” Robin snatches her arm back, looking over her shoulder “See you around Heather” she calls out.

“Sure! Look forward to it” Heather calls back, giving a little wave.

Robin looks disappointed yet hopeful as they reach the loungers, Steve gathers up his stuff and awkwardly waits while Robin shoves her towel in her bag, he decides to throw her a bone.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see her tonight.” she shoots up to stare at him, one eyebrow raised a picture of scepticism.

“Wait. What?” she asks.

“You’ll see her tonight, we’re going to a party” he explains shuffling from foot to foot, getting increasingly antsy.

“A party?” she asks, they’ve finally started moving towards the entrance, Steve takes one quick look around the pool as they go through the turn-style in single file.

“That's what i said.”  he deadpans.

“Who’s party?”

“Tommy’s”

Realisation dawns on Robin’s face as she rounds towards the passenger side of Steve’s car.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Steve agrees, unlocking the car and shoving their things in the back seat. “Now c’mon we’ve got a party to get ready for”

###

Steve’s pretty sure he’s gonna throw up, why he originally thought that going to Tommy’s was a good idea was beyond him, especially considering the events that lead to the invitation. He was excited, sure, but his gut is trying its best to qualify for the Olympics with all the gymnastics it's currently doing. It is far worse than the gentle and oddly pleasant sensation of butterflies, resembling closer to angry wasps just buzzing away down in his gut.

He and Robin are walking to Tommy’s from his, because honestly it's not that far, and he fully intends to take advantage of the alcohol that will most likely be on offer, although he swears to himself he won’t let himself get into a state like last time, much to Robin’s scepticism and to be fair even he was pretty sceptical himself.

He thinks the best thing to do right now though is to distract himself from his own existential crisis, and perhaps for the first time today be the good friend he knows he is and discuss Robin’s own crush on Heather.

“So i’m pretty sure i never apologised” he leads with, because honestly he does feel kinda shitty about interrupting the two girls.

“For what?” she asks.

“For interrupting your little flirt fest with Heather” he says wagging his eyebrows suggestively and softly nudging Robin in the side.

“Flirt Fest!? When?” she’s practically choking out eyes wide like a bug

“Earlier at the pool.” Steve explains “don’t act all coy with me, i saw what was going on”

“There was no flirting, we were just.. I don’t know.. Talking” Robin shrugs, she looks bashful, it's cute.

“Looked a helluva lot more friendly than ‘just talking’” he emphasises his point by making air quotations with his hands, it's lame but it does the trick.

“ and what would you know? Huh?” She stops walking mid sentence to stare up at him “ you” she pokes him in the chest to emphasise her point “were there all of 1 minute, before you dragged me away, because you jizzed your pants!” she’s smirking clearly amused at Steve’s anguish.

“ROBIN!” he squeaks, eyes bugging out of his head in a poor reflection of Robin’s earlier reaction.

“Steeve” she sing-songs all high pitched and nasally, mocking him. She turns back towards the direction they were walking in and leaves Steve behind to catch up.

Steve finally with the program strides back up alongside Robin  in less than 3 steps, he’s pouting but not willing to drop the Heather thing, especially not now Robin’s been acting all defensive about it.

“Whatever. I still think she likes you.” he says

“Duh. I’m delightful” Robin says obviously sarcastic and flourished with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I’m being serious”

“Oh I know, you’re just wrong”

“I know i’m right” he teases

“you don’t know shit Harrington. And anyway i’d prefer not to take dating advice from a guy who literally got caught jacking off, by the guys he likes.” she snaps at him, but smiles triumphantly when Steve gapes back a little dumbfounded.

“Okay…” Steve huffs “now you’re just being rude.”

###

Tommy’s buzzing with so much pent up excitement he’s practically vibrating  as he whips around his basement trying to make it as presentable as possible for their impending guests, he doesn’t want to make it look like he’s making too much of an effort, still wants to keep an air of cool collectedness about him, wants to remain nonchalant, but he can’t help the excited little squeele he lets out when the doorbell rings.

“Christ will you calm down” Billy chastises him from where he’s sat, legs spread wide across the couch, nursing a beer and giving of his usual ‘ i don’t give a fuck vibe’

“Sorry” Tommy says over his shoulder sheepishly as he makes his way up the stairs, out of the basement and towards the front door. Thank god his parents aren’t home, away with his little brother visiting some family in Chicago, or this little get-together might not have been possible. Not that they would care if he had friends round, or that they were drinking , it's just easier when you have free rein and don’t have to be mindful of the other people living in your house.

He gets to the front door and all that excited energy turns slightly nervous as he tries to tamp down the butterflies in his stomach and not make a fool of himself when he answers the door. He can’t help but be a little disappointed when it’s Heather and not Steve, but he guesses with her already here it might make things a little less awkward and a little more easy when Steve and Robin do eventually turn up, if he turns up.

“Hey” Heather smiles warmly, all sugary sweetness and girl next door, she’s holding out a bottle of something , and Tommy’s instantly reminded of Steve and his past insistence that ‘it’s rude to turn up somewhere, without something for the host’, he figures it must be some rich people bullshit, considering Heather and Steve were both practically raised in a country club.

“Hey Heather! Thanks for coming” He accepts the bottle and holy shit on closer inspection it's the good stuff, some expensive brand of whisky that Tommy would only bother giving the time of day if it was either gifted or stolen, because there ain't no point in spending stupid amounts on money on booze when the cheap stuff gets you just as drunk, for a fraction of the price.

He leads Heather down to the basement, where Billy has shifted slightly on the couch to make room for other guests, Billy’s also taken the honours of selecting a tape from Tommy’s collection and playing it full volume, no doubt grumbling to himself about the poor taste in music. He smirks up at Heather and gives a little salute before knocking back the rest of his beer.

There’s a slightly awkward atmosphere at first, heather just standing there probably waiting to be asked to sit, like the good polite girl she is, Billy’s not saying anything, which is a little unusually, but he is distracted by rolling a joint and well Tommy doesn’t often play host, and when he does he’s at least already half cut, and has been chatting shit all night anyway, so the awkwardness never happens. Now though, they’re all relatively sober and Tommy doesn't know Heather that well to just start shooting the shit at her, he’s kinda relying on Billy to be a little more social here.

Eventually Heather sits next To Billy who’s finished rolling the joint and is sparking it as he scoots further up the couch to make room, Heather offers him a small smile.

“I thought you said Steve and Robin were coming?” She asks

“They are.” Billy replies around a mouthful of smoke, passing the joint onto Heather.

“Oh cool, coz otherwise this is a little bit of a sausage fest” she quips, inhaling and relaxing back into the couch.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of sausage Heather” Billy laughs and she laughs too

“No I know, just would be nice to have some female company” she leans across the coffee table and passes the joint to Tommy who’s still stood up like an idiot shifting from foot to foot, still a ball of pent up energy.

Tommy chills out a little as the evening goes on a bit, still anxious that Steve might not turn up, but he’s well distracted by Billy and Heather bitching about work and telling stories of snot nose little kids who quite frankly  deserve to drown alongside their entitled mothers. All three of them are giggling away, comfortable in each other's company when the doorbell rings.

Each one of them looks wide eyed up at the basement door, frozen to the spot. Tommy soon comes to his senses and bolts up, jogging up the stairs and towards the front door, he straightens out his t-shirt and unnecessarily fluffs up his hair a bit and then opens the door, signature cheeky grin firmly in place as he greets Steve and Robin.

“So glad you could join us”

Steve’s got that deer caught in headlights look about him, as if he didn’t expect the door to actually open, his mouth is slightly agape and he swallows thickly, Robin elbows him in the ribs and he extends his hand out, in it another bottle of expensive booze.

“Uh hey.” He says and Tommy accepts the bottle.

“Damn Harrington” he whistles, “knew i could count on you for the good stuff” he holds the bottle close to his chest with one arm, gesturing for them to come in with the other. Steve smiles weekly hands in pockets as he and Robin follow Tommy inside.

“Heh well you know, it's rude to turn up to someone's house without something to offer the host”

“I thought this was meant to be a party Hagan, where is everybody?” Robin cuts in as the make it to the basement door, music heard faintly behind the door and the distinct smell of weed wafting in the air.

“Right this way Buckley” he opens the door and holds it open for the two new guests before following them down the stairs.

###

The evening’s going by quite nicely in Tommy’s opinion, Steve and Robin have settled into the group rather well and the atmosphere in the room is rather pleasant, Robin’s settled herself next to Heather on the couch, while Steve is sat on the arm of the couch next to Robin. Tommy’s on the other side of the room in an armchair that’s seen better days and is in a more sorry state than the couch if that could even be possible. Billy’s next to Heather and they’re all grossly involved in a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’.

Tommy thinks maybe it's a little middle school to be playing it, like days gone by where the height of entertainment was playing spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven, but he’s enjoying himself so he can’t complain.

“Okay okay I’ve got one” Robin pipes up giggling behind a solo cup. “Never have i ever been punched in the face” all three boys take a drink, indicating that they have in fact all been punched in the face, nervous glances are shared between Billy and Steve atmosphere going just a little tense at the memory of their fight the previous year, but then Steve giggles and the tension is broken.

“Pft that was blatantly a set up Robs.” he grins at her and she rolls her eyes.

“Don’t see you coming up with anything better” she quips back.

“Sure i can!” he argues between laughs “ ohh i got a good one! Never have i ever played a musical instrument” at that Robin and Billy both drink, which triggers a few questioning looks towards Billy.

“You play an instrument?” Robin asks excited

“Used to” Billy shrugs

“What instrument?” Heather pipes in

“Guitar wasn't very good at it though so gave up” he shrugs again , downing the rest of his drink and throwing the cup onto the table. Robin looks as if she’s about to say something when the doorbell rang, they all glance around the room at each other doing a mental headcount, wondering if they were expecting anyone else.

It takes monumental effort but Tommy gets up and jogs up the stair for what feels like the hundredth time this evening, he’s ready to tell whoever is at the door to fuck off when he opens it. He’s struck speechless however when it's Carol who greets him with a nervous smile and glassy eyes.

“Hey Baby, can we talk?” she can obviously hear the voices from the basement “You having a party?” she asks one eyebrow raised and arms crossed, Tommy’s in shock, he wasn’t expecting this, and he’s a little too high for this.

“What do you want Carol?” it comes out a little harsher then he intended, but if it gets him the desired effect of Carol to fuck off so he can return to the basement then so be it. Her expression softens and she uncrosses her arms.

“Please, I just wanna talk Tommy” she pouts a little “I feel real bad about the way we ended things and i just wanna make sure you’re okay” Tommy’s thoughts are still a little sluggish, and if he’s being honest he’s still a little hurt by Carol just dropping him at the beginning of summer, but Tommy still has a soft spot for Carol and she does look pretty miserable, so against his better judgement he decides to humour her and invite her inside.

He takes her to his kitchen and offers her a seat at the breakfast bar. Thye sit there like that in awkward silence for a moment, avoiding eye contact neither one of them daring to speak, it remains like that until ultimately they both work up the courage to speak at the same time

“Would you lik-” Tommy says as carol blurts out

“I’m so sorry”

They both giggle nervously at that

“Sorry you go ahead” Carol speaks first giving room for Tommy to finish his sentence

“Would you like a drink?” he offers, already jumping from the stool and walking towards the fridge “We’ve got beer, wine, some pretty fancy whisky that Heather brought round” He lists off grabbing a beer for himself in the process.

“Heather’s here?” Carol asks “and i’ll just have a beer please” she’s picking at her nails nervously as she tracks Tommy’s movements.

“Uh yeah actually, and some others” he grabs another beer out of the fridge and hands it to Carol, taking a swig of his own.

“So.. you are having a party then?” she asks, acquisition clear in her tone .

“Uh yeah kinda, what did you expect Carol? For me to just be moping around here by myself? Just waiting for you to turn up?” Tommy’s trying really hard not get pissed off, not to get angry, he was having a good time up until now and he really doesn’t want to have his night ruined because of Carol.

“No.” She says rather petulantly.

“Then what?” despite his best effort he’s getting a little heated

“I don’t know Tommy” She throws her arms in the air clearly just as frustrated as he is “ look i’m sorry i shouldn’t have come here” she’s getting off the stool now, making her way to leave “I just wanted to smooth things out with you, apologise for hurting you, maybe see if we could still be friends.”

Tommy grabs her by the elbow and spins her to face him.

“Don’t go” he pleads, for a second she stares him down, narrows her eyes as if she’s trying to figure him out, but then she relaxes and rests her forehead on his chest, a little stuck for what to do, Tommy hugs her closer and pets her back, strokes her hair.

“I just miss you so much Tommy, i miss hanging out with you” she cries into his chest, Tommy’s a little at a loss, emotionally he’s all over the place all he wants to do is comfort Carol, he knows he’ll always love her in some kind of way, but gone are the days where he could ever think about taking her back, even if Billy wasn’t in the equation.

“I know, i miss hanging out with you too” he speaks softly into her hair, rubbing comforting circles on her back trying to calm her down.

“I just don’t wanna lose you, y’know? Like we’ve known each other since we were 4, that doesn’t just go away” she continues her muffled sobs nuzzling into his t-shirt, he inwardly cringes imagining all manor of snot and tears ruining it. He grabs her by the shoulders and holds her at arm distance, bends his knees slightly so he can be at eye level.

“Hey, hey” he says gently “you’re not gonna lose me alright?” he sighs guiding her back to a stool giving him a  moment to figure out what he’s gonna say next. “ look i’d love for us still to be friends” with that she looks up swiping her tears away.

“Really?” she squeaks

“Of course I do, like you said that kinda thing doesn’t just go away, but…” he trails off look nervously down at his hands, wishing he had something, anything at all that he could keep his hand busy with to try and channel the nervous energy building.

“But what Tommy?” she asks, he lets out a long exaggerated sigh, preparing himself for the next part.

“But, me and you, we can’t ever get back together” there he said it,  it's out in the open now and he can’t possibly make his intentions any more clear. “You really hurt me babe, and don’t get me wrong, I understand why you needed to do it, really I do! But i can’t go through that again, and anyway i’m kinda seeing someone” he explains, there's no point sugar coating it, he needs to make it clear he’s no longer available for Carol to pick back up and then drop again on a whim.

“You are? Who?” She sounds kinda like she’s accusing him, which is rich coming from her, he can feel anger begin to bubble to the surface and if he’s not careful he might snap again, he needs to keep a level head, at least try to remain as calm as possible.

“It doesn’t matter who, the point is, me and you, it can’t ever happen again” he gestures between the two of them. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try just being friends” he offers a weak attempt at a smile.

“God, it sounds like you’re the one doing the breaking up” she cries out before letting out a quiet giggle. “Okay then, friends” she extends her hand for Tommy to shake, he looks down at it and back up at her quizzically.

“Get away with that, come here”  he steps closer and drags her into a tight hug “I’ll always care about you Carol, you know that right?”

“I know” she says

“Right c’mon, since you’re here, you might as well join the party” He says, releasing her from the hug and guiding her down to the basement with his arm slung around her shoulder.

###

Tommy’s been gone for some time now and Billy’s not worried per say but he is curious. He makes his excuses about going to find Tommy and maybe some more beer, leaving Heather, Steve and Robin to their conversation. As he gets closer to the basement door he hears voices, one is obviously Tommy’s  and the other is distinctly female, he can’t quite make out who’s exactly with the door closed so he gently opens the door so he doesn’t bring too much attention to himself. The conversation he hears is getting a little heated and he wonders if he’s gonna have to step in at any point, make sure something doesn’t get broken, at least that's what he tells himself as he creeps round the corner and listens in on Tommy and what he can now clearly hear is Carol.

He’s not spying, he assures himself as he continues to listen in out of sight, he’s just curious as to why Tommy’s ex-girlfriend of all people might have turned up at his house at 11pm on a friday night, nothing good he concludes. A pang of jealousy blooms in his chest as he hears snippets of their conversation, watches as Tommy consoles Carol with a hug, petting her hair and everything.

He’s about to lose his shit when he’s brought out of his thoughts by a hand suddenly appearing on his shoulder from behind, he jumps having not heard Steve leave the basement also and swings around ready to attack.

“Woah woah, hey man take it easy” Steve jumps back hands out in a ‘i surrender motion’. Billy huffs, heart rate slowly returning to normal.

“Jesus Harrington, you can’t just sneak up on people like that” he whispers

“Sorry, i was just wondering what you were doing” He whispers back “hey why are we whispering?” he asks and Billy has to try really hard to suppress an eye roll, he learns further out of the corner to try and get a better look at Tommy and Carol, Steve catching on leans in too.

“Carol’s here” Billy grunts, he doesn’t want to have to explain himself, and he knows Harrington isn’t that stupid, so he hopes quietly that maybe he might clue on without needing much of a push.

“Oh” is all Steve says. They share a look before Steve is walking away towards Tommy’s back door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some fresh air, you coming?” Billy stays put for a second weighing up his option, follow Steve or stay and listen to Tommy making nice with his ex, if Billy were a stronger man he'd just return to the basement and forget all this happened, but he’s not and he does have a petty streak. So he follows Steve out into the yard and into the night air.

###

It’s a warmish night but with the slightest of breezes which causes goosebumps to rise on Steve’s skin, he’s secretly glad he has the benefit of a belly full of alcohol to keep him from shivering. He’s not sure exactly what he’s supposed to do now, but he’s glad Billy followed him.

Tommy’s parents aren’t exactly rich but they’re not poor either, they’re well off enough to have a nice back yard, complete with a  smallish patio, with a stone wall about a foot wide around its perimeter, overlooking a spacious grassy area lined with flower beds right up to the very end. There's an old swing set under a large oak tree that’s home to the tree house Tommy’s dad built one summer back when they were kids.

Steve perches himself atop the patio wall, crosses his legs and the ankles and inhales deeply. Billy joins him eventually, sitting beside him, legs spread wide taking up as much space as humanly possible. Steve thinks maybe it's a dominance thing, demanding more space and forcing others to make do with the little he’s been gracious enough to gift them, or maybe it's just more comfortable for him considering he has thighs the size of tree trunks. Steve lulls his head to the side so he can look at Billy, he looks lost in thought, staring at the ground, little crease in between his eyebrows, lips set in a hard line.

“Any chance I can bum a smoke?” Steve asks, hoping it might break the ice a little, relieve some of this awkward tension. Billy says nothing just reaches in his jean pocket for his packet of Malbros and hands it to Steve. Steve takes one, handing the packet back and watches intently as Billy takes his own out and lights it, Billy holds the flame closer to Steve and he leans in to light his own, making eye contact with Billy and holding it the entire time.

“What?” Billy asks when Steve still hasn’t broken eye contact. Steve’s heart rate picks up, he’s consumed with a sudden burst of confidence, bravery to finally address the elephant in the room, to stop dancing this tentative dance around Billy and Tommy, to finally make his feelings clear and to hopefully confirm theirs in return, worst case scenario he gets a fist to the face, but if he plays his cards right, he might just stand a chance here. Sure he would have preferred Tommy to be here too, but he has to work with what he’s got and well for the first time he’s actually got one of them alone, and he’s not a complete mess, he hopes the stars might have aligned tonight and luck is on his side, so maybe he might just get a win out of this.

“Why’d you invite me here tonight?” he asks on an exhale of the cigarette Billy had gifted him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Billy says voice gruff, there’s not much light outside, only the gentle glow of the moonlight and the light seeping out from Tommy’s back door, but even in the dim lighting Steve can see a faintest blush creep across Billy's cheeks.

“Oh i think you do” Steve’s feeling bold, brash so he leans in a little closer, this close he spots the light dusting of freckles across Billy’s adorable sun-kissed nose, his gaze darts down briefly down to his lips and back up again to hold eye contact with Billy, he swallows thickly and Billy mirrors his actions. “I think you invited me here because of an ulterior motive” he smirks.

“Oh yeah? And what's that?” Billy asks, quiet, he looks bewitched by Steve.

“Why don’t you tell me” Steve’s inching closer and closer, they’re barely a breath apart

“Seems like you already know” Billy’s eyelashes flutter as he breaks his stare and instead focuses on Steve’s lips.

“I do. But i want to hear you say it” the atmosphere is thick around them, anticipation building, they’re so close yet so far, all it will take for them to close the gap is from one of them to lean in further ever so slightly, but they both seem to be playing chicken with one another. Just as Steve is about to give in himself, lean closer, brush his lips against Billy’s, admit defeat yet claim the victory, the back door swings open.

Just like that the spells broke, they both separate and look in the direction of the house. Tommy’s stood there and he’s absolutely seething, breathing hard. Steve breathes a sigh of relief, happy in the fact that they hadn’t just been caught in an incriminating position by Heather or Carol. The relief is short lived however because Tommy’s storming towards them, fists clenched, jaw tight, anger rolling off him in waves.

“What the fuck.” is all he bites out. He swings for Billy and catches him square in the jaw, giving him no time to recover as he grabs Billy by the shift and hoists him close, getting in his face.

“What the hell Tommy!” Steve shouts, trying to get in between, trying to break them up. Billy’s not reacting, he’s not swinging back or trying to defend himself and Steve thinks that's odd, from personal experience he knows that's not Billy’s style. “Tommy, get off him”

Tommy snarls, letting Billy go and stalking to the wall, throwing himself down in a huff

“You two looked cosy out here” he spits, arms crossed against his chest as he kicks at the dirt, picture perfect tantrum in the works. “Sorry to interrupt”

“Oh yeah like you weren’t getting reacquainted with Carol in there!” Billy argues back.

“It’s not like that and you know it Billy”

“No, i don’t think i do”

“Yes you fucking do, stop being such an asshole Billy!”

“Oh I'm the asshole, you punched me in the face!”

“You were kissing Steve!” Tommy’s got in Billy’s face again, looks like he could throw another punch, Steve decides to step in.

“Guys will you shut the fuck up!” he shouts over them. “No one was kissing anyone!” Both Tommy and Billy look over at him both with one eyebrow raised, their disbelief written all over their faces. “okay well maybe i was about to kiss Billy” Tommy looks hurt, Billy looks a little smug.

Tommy shoves a bit at Billy still angry.

“See!”

“Tommy!” Steve whines “Stop!” Steve drags a hand down his face, trying to wrack his brain of how he’s gonna explain himself with words, he had kinda hoped actions would speak louder than words tonight, but so far everything just been one horrendous misunderstanding after one horrendous misunderstanding. “Look I like you. Both of you.” he bites his lip, preparing himself for a rejection. “And i think maybe you both like me too?” his voice is 4 octaves higher than it should be and Steve cringes at that. Smooth real smooth.

They both stare at him, dumbfounded, mouths agape, comically blinking as if they can’t quite believe what they’ve heard.

“Wha?” Tommy whispers

“You do?” Billy asks.

It's adorable how they’ve been essentially struck speechless, when usually neither one of them has the ability to shut up, Steve just rolls his eyes shuffles closer, grabs Tommy by the face with both hands and kisses him chastely on the lips, and then does then repeats the action with Billy.

“Yes you fucking idiots.”

Both boys break their own unique signature grins.

“Well thank god” Tommy says, turns to Billy and kisses him, before laughing like an idiot, a contagious laugh that had Steve and Billy join in too.

“C’mon you two, I think we’ve left the girls alone, long enough” Billy says, dragging both boys by the hand back into the house.

[strangerontheotherside84]

Wild Child (Billy Hargrove x Reader) part 3

Warnings: lots of swearing, road rage, that’s it I guess?

„Steve, if you keep running your fringers through your hair like that you’re gonna be bold by lunchtime.“

„Don’t say that! My hair is the best about me.“ your friend replied, removing his hand from his head, putting it in the frontpocket of his jeans while tapping the wall next to him with his fingers.

„I’m sure there might be other stuff.“ you chuckled.

„I’m just so nervous about that job interview today.“

„For that summer job?“

„Yeah���I really need it.“

„I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean..you sure know a lot about ice cream.“ you tried to cheer him up, playfully hitting him in the shoulder.

„Oh by the way. Is your car working again?“

„Yeah my uncle fixed it yesterday. Was just one of the spark plugs. Why?“

„Could you maybe pick me up at the mall tonight? My dad thought it would be a very good idea to seize my car keys due to the lack of scholarships… and all the rejected college applications. But on the other hand he’s forcing me to get this job for which I’ll need a car…so..?“ „Yeah alright I’ll pick you up. When?“

„Thanks (y/n) you’re a real lifesaver. Somewhere around 7 or 8 should be fine I guess. By the way how was your weekend. Didn’t you go to a concert or something?“

„It was uh…a lot! I’ll tell you when I drive you home tonight.“ You definitely didn’t have the nerves to go through that desaster of a night right now. Especially not on a monday morning.

„HEY (Y/L/N)!“

The sound of this voice was enough to make you roll your eyes and let out a loud sigh. „What Hargrove?“ as you turned around Billy was already right in front of you resting his left arm against the locker above your head while looking down at you.

„Looks like you forgot something in my car saturday night.“ Oh that’s what all the yelling was about, he wanted to get everybody’s attention to embarass you as much as possible.

„What? My dignity?“ you snapped back.

„No not quiet.“ Billy mumbled, smirking down at you. He opened his right hand in front of your face, revealing one of the earrings you had been wearing that night.

Fuck!

Oh how much you wanted to say that this wasn’t yours, in order to not grant that absolute dickhead the satisfaction of making everyone in the hallway think that he had finally managed to win you over. But sadly those little red and blue lightning bolts were your favorite pair. You had been looking for the other one all sunday, finally comming to the realization that you must have lost it at the show. A version which you would actually prefere at this moment.

„You win this round Hargrove.“ you growled as you took the earring from his hand causing him to chuckle as he licked his lips. „But don’t you think that I’ll let you get away with this bullshit.“

As you turned aways, quietly cursing to yourself you locked eyes with Steve who had been standing next to you this whole time looking at you in complete disbelieve.

„Steve! Come on! AS IF!“

„Ok ok…wouldn’t have thought so.“ he chuckled raising his hands in defense, „But I still wanna know how you got into that weirdos car.“

„Told you I’ll tell you later.“

-

„Last call for Steve Harrington. Your chauffeur has arrived.“ You greeted your bestfriend as you stopped the black Dodge Charger in front of the yet to be opened mall. Steve was wearing a big smile on his face, as he walked towards your car, giving you the thumbs up.

„Congratulations Mr. Harring- What the hell do you have there?“

„Ice cream. They’ve given me free samples in order to welcome me to the Scoops Ahoy family.“ Steve stated proudly as he made himself comfortable in the passenger seat, placing the big paper bag on the dashboard.

„They’ve given you ice cream? In December?“

„Genious isn’t it? Like that it won’t melt on the way home.“ „As if it would last until you’re home.“ You chuckled as you stepped on the gas in order to make your way back to Hawkins.

„Now tell me.“ Steve began while trying to unwrap the ice cream bowl without getting anything on your seats. Not that you would have cared, your car was always a bit of a mess. „How come that you drove around with Billy this weekend? Did you loose a bet?“

„Alright alright…make yourself comfortable my dear friend and enjoy this absolute trainwreck of a story…“

-

„And that’s how I ended up driving home with that cocky fuck. The end.“ you concluded your story „Liked it?“

„Well it explained a lot but I personally would have expected a lot more blood and violence.“ Steve replied evaluative, still being very busy with that huge sundae.

„Well you know how they say-“ before you could end your sentence you were suddenly cut off by another car emerging out of the dark, causing you to hit the brakes. „FUCK!“

You knew damn well whose car that was. Without further hesitation you put your foot down causing the engine to rev. „Wait for it motherfucker…“ you mumbled to yourself while following the midnight blue Camaro down the dark road.

„Uhm (y/n)?“ Steve began carefully, clinging his free hand on to the dashboard. „Don’t you think you’re going a little fast?“

„Shh Steve! I know what I’m doing.“ you silenced him, turning up the radio which was blasting Metallica’s Four Horsemen.

You could finally see the rear lights as well as that californian license plate getting closer and closer.

You kept flashing your headlights while driving closely behind the Camaro, suddenly changing to the oncoming lane and stepping on the gas once more.

Yeah bitch guess what, you’re not the only one with a fast car in Hawkins.You began to smirk.

„You’re going to overtake him or what?“ Steves voice was a bit shaky at this point. You didn’t answer. Instead you kept driving on the lane next to the Camaro, now being on a level with your Dodge.

You quickly looked to the side and catched a glimpse of Billy Hargrove with some girl that you had seen around at school before. Even in this short moment you could see that his eyes were burning with anger as he stepped on the gas, preventing you from overtaking him.

Well, same, asshole. You thought.

„Steve roll down the window!“ you demanded, eyes focused on the dark street looking out for oncoming traffic. You could spot the headlights of a truck in the distance.

„What?“

„STEVE WINDOW!“

Your best friend did as he was told while mumbling something along the lines of „Oh this isn’t good…we’re definitely gonna die…oh yeah…“.

„Steve?“

„Yeah?“

„I’m sorry but I need this.“

Before he could ask what you meant by that you grabbed the ice cream bowl from Steve’s hands, keeping a hold of the steering wheel with your left leg as you leaned over and tossed the bundle towards the Camaro.

You could hear breaks squeeking as you quickly moved yourself back into your seat, smashed your foot on the gas and cut Billy off, just before the truck driving towards you would get too close.

„Well thanks for not killing us but I guess I’ll take the bus next time.“ Steve mumbled while nervously running his fingers through his hair.

-

„WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU BITCH?“ the voice of Billy Hargrove was roaring across the parking lot in front of Hawkins High as he made his way towards you. You were sitting on the hood of the Charger having a smoke before you would head home.

„Well I can only return that.“ you scoffed unimpressed. There were only a few things that scared you and High School boys with anger issues definietly weren’t one of them.

„MY CAR ALMOST GOT WRECKED YOU FUCKING WHORE!“

„Oh, were you also cut off by some asshole who had to show his new grilfriend what a big, bad guy he is?“

„Not my grifriend.“ Billy replied his voice now low and humming, stopping directly in front of you.

„Not the part I care about.“ you answered, flicking your cigarette on the ground.

„What are you on your fucking period or somethink like that?“

„Nope just being my usual bitchy self as you like to call it.“

„You think this is a joke huh?“ the curly haired boy growled moving even closer to your face while resting his hands on the hood of your car between your legs.

„Do you?“ You didn’t shirk from his look, staring directly into his radiant blue eyes which were almost swallowed by his pitch black lashes.

„Fuck you…“ he mumbled, his low voice quavering aggressivly as he took a few steps back.

„You know what (y/n)?“Billy shouted „Maybe you just need a good fuck.“

„Well don’t we all?“ you replied with a wink. As soon as the words had left your mouth you could hear a disgusted wheezing followed by a bunch of girls whispering.

„Oh come on Tina get it together.“ you snapped at one of the girls standing by, who was shaking her head at you.

Fucking prude.

„Maybe some of the pretty boys outside of town can help you with that.“ Billy yelled across the parking lot, as he turned away from you to storm of towards his car.

„Yeah I’ll save you some!.“ you shouted back while flipping him off. „Go blow your dad you mullet wearing asshole!“

„WHERE DO YOU TWO THINK YOU ARE?“ Oh shit. Everybody frooze at the sound of the front door of Hawkins High swinging open followed by the roaring voice of Mr. Jenkins. Your headmaster.

„BOTH OF YOU! BACK IN HERE! DETENTION!“

„What? Can’t this be viewed as some sort of extracurricular activity?“ Oh god why couldn’t you just for once keep your fucking mouth shut?

„NOW!“

You gowled as you picked up your stuff and headed back into school.

„Thanks (y/l/n), well done.“ Billy hissed as he pushed past you.

[runs-in-the-family]

Prompt: their first kiss after admitting to each other they're attracted to one another

Sorry for the delay, life gets in the way. So I hope this suits. My version of this scenario kinda already exists over on ao3 but I tried to make this one a) shorter and b) less depressing. Both attempts were marginally successful.

The rumour was born in the girls bathroom. When enough of the school’s female populace had recounted similar stories of disinterested trysts in the back of his Camaro, assumptions started being made about why Billy Hargrove was the way he was. Initially an in-joke among select girls, soon it spread. Suddenly, threads were being connected and stories surfaced of distant cousins from California who, through wholly improbable twists of fate, would somehow not only know Billy Hargrove, but would be able to confirm, without doubt, that everything was true. Eventually, the boys locker room became an echo chamber of stifled laughter and forced coughs used to mask the word “faggot”.

      Steve would watch him bristle at the utterance, eyes cast to the ground and shoulders bunched defensively. He’d never jump to Billy’s defence. He’d never offer a sympathetic look or even the briefest moment of eye contact. Not joining in, he told himself, was enough. That was harder to believe when he’d catch sight of the tears in Billy’s eyes.

       When the other guys refused to shower with him, Steve thought that maybe Billy would start biting back. He’d half-hoped to watch him punch some guy’s lights out or verbally strip them all down until they issued frightened apologies. Instead, Billy quit the team. Steve was the only one who didn’t laugh when someone said they should hose down his old locker, in case the next guy caught something.

      He’d eat his lunch alone, behind the bleachers. That was when the stories started about his predilection for sucking guys off back there after football games. Of course, no one ever mentioned who these guys were. The slightest bit of investigation would make it all too easy to disprove and, by this time, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves far too much for the truth to potentially ruin it all.

      What killed Steve more than anything was that Billy just took it.

      One evening, after hours of cramming in the library, Steve left the school and found himself confronted with an unexpected night sky. Finals-induced stress had clearly warped his internal clock. Only a handful of cars remained in the parking lot and the Beemer sat almost achingly far from the building.

      He set off on his trek but only made it halfway across the lot before a faint, repetitive gasping caught his attention.

      Off to the left, a blue Camaro was parked under the orange glow of a parking lot spot light. The light was almost ineffectual, barely enough to illuminate the entirety of the car, but it was enough for Steve to make out the graffiti on the hood. And on the doors. And to see the broken driver’s side window.

      This was a new low for them.

      Sitting just outside the shaft of light was a figure, on the ground, head buried in his hand, shoulders shaking. Steve was half way to the beaten-up car before he even realised he’d changed course.

      To his surprise, Billy didn’t try to cover up his tears when he copped Steve’s arrival. Instead, he lifted his gaze just short of Steve’s own and addressed him like his eyes weren’t streaming.

      “The fuck do you want, Harrington?”

      Steve skimmed over the crudely written slurs decorating the car. He was pretty sure he recognised Tommy’s work.

      “Harrington!” Billy called out, louder than before.

      His attention snapped back. He struggled for a moment to find anything good enough to say.

      “You need some help?” He asked, weakly.

      Billy’s eyes fell shut. Even in the half-light, Steve could make out the dampness of his lashes and the quake in his lip.

      “Yeah, what are you gonna do?” He scoffed. “How’re you gonna fix it?”

      “I didn’t say I could fix it.” Steve shuffled awkwardly, wishing he knew what his plan had been when he’d started walking over. “I just…if you need a ride or –”

      The laughter that erupted from Billy almost scared him. It seemed forced and manic and not dissimilar to the cackle Steve had heard that night at Jonathan’s. What was different, what made it less menacing, were the tears that continued to roll down his cheeks as he threw his head back. As it subsided, Billy opened his eyes and stared up at Steve, blue irises surrounded by a roaring red.

      “Lemme guess. You’re hoping I’m so grateful that I drop down and suck that pretty boy cock of yours?” Buried beneath the tears, Billy’s signature bite worked it’s way through. “Believe me, Harrington, you’re not the first one to offer.”

      Taken aback, Steve had no idea how to respond. Billy seemed to pick up on his shock.

      “Yeah.” He nodded. “You’d be surprised how quickly guys start swarming around the school faggot when they think they can get away with it. Fucking team won’t shower with me but half the motherfuckers’ve tried to make a move on me when no one’s around.”

      Billy rubbed at his eyes, tears no longer falling but still clinging stubbornly to his lashes.

      “You know, I might’ve said yes to some of them.” He sniffed. “If shit was different.”

      The casual delivery made Steve wonder if Billy realised what he’d just admitted to. It was, as far as Steve knew, the closest to a confirmation anyone at school had received that he was actually gay.

      “I wasn’t going to…make a move.”

      A small smile flickered across Billy’s face. It came and went in an instant but it caught Steve hard.

      “Shame.” He said, simply.

      The remark sent a small jolt down Steve’s neck.

      “Why’s that?” He asked, before he could stop himself.

      Another smile appeared, this one far more forced.

      “Come on, Harrington.” Billy cooed. “I can tell the others to go fuck themselves but if you came asking?”

      He gave him a once over.

      “Pretty little brunette with those those lips.” He hissed. “Might be a little harder to say no to.”    

      Steve couldn’t tell whether or not Billy was fucking with him. He’d thought, given that he’d found him in what he perceived to be a moment of need, that they might manage a real, honest exchange. Whether that was even possible with Billy, Steve didn’t know. He was willing to try though.

      “I’m sorry.” He said, trying not to focus on the last comment.

      Billy rolled his eyes and leaned back against the car.

      “What, I got you to thank for the new paint job?” He rapped a knuckle against an off-white ‘faggot’ dashed across the door.

      “No, I –”

      “It’s okay, Harrington.” Billy stared off into the empty car park. “I know you didn’t do it.”

      “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.” Steve rubbed at the nape of his neck anxiously. “I’m sorry I didn’t stick up for you.”

      Another vaguely manic laugh spilled from Billy. The humour didn’t seem to reach his eyes, though.

      “You think I need you defending me?” He asked, mockingly.

      Weeks of mounting anger, not only with Billy’s treatment but with his complete lack of reaction to it, started to rise in Steve’s gut.

      “Well you’re sure as shit not sticking up for yourself.” He snapped, harsher than he’d intended.

      The only response was an exhausted smile and a shake of the head.

      “No point.” Billy said, listlessly. “Trust me.”

      Steve’s anger spiked again. He’d known it had been brewing, every time he’d heard another piece of gossip or watched Billy silently take another round of abuse, but he hadn’t known how intense it had been until now.

      “Christ, come on!” He yelled, losing himself slightly. “You don’t need to take this shit, you know that, right? Most of those guys are pussies, if you just – ”

      “What?” Billy interjected, turning from the darkness to finally meet Steve’s eye. “Beat the shit out of them? You gonna explain everything to my dad after I get suspended? Cause I don’t feel like trying to convince him I didn’t get gang banged by my old basketball team or whatever the fuck they’re saying now. Cause I guarantee you, Harrington, that whatever he hears, whatever bullshit they’re coming up with, he’s gonna believe it over whatever I’ve got to say.”

      Billy bit down on his lip, trying to force back the tears returning to his eyes. The sight compelled Steve to push his anger aside.

      “Trust me.” Billy repeated. “Fighting it doesn’t help.”

      The tone told him that Billy spoke from experience.

      Taking a deep breath, Steve moved closer and slowly lowered himself to the ground next to Billy. They stayed in silence for a solid minute before he worked up the nerve to ask.

      “When did you know? That you liked guys?”

      Billy went rigid for a second. He shook himself loose fairly quickly but Steve still caught the tension.

      “Few years ago, I guess.” He shrugged. “Probably knew before that but…didn’t know. Didn’t get what it was. Or something.”

      Billy threw a glance his way.

      “You?”

      Steve’s mouth dropped open and snapped shut several times. The reaction made Billy grin.

      “Come on.” He goaded. “Don’t pretend you haven’t had some dirty little dream about…Emilio Estevez or some shit.”

      Steve bit down on his cheek, begging it to stop blushing.

      “God…” He laughed nervously. “I haven’t…”

      His ramblings halted when Billy raised one knowing eyebrow. The look somehow managed to be both smug and oddly reassuring. When he spoke again, Steve felt inexplicably relieved, safer than he had in months.

      “Rob Lowe.” He clarified, face burning up. “You know, uh, The Outsiders?”

      Another laugh slipped past Billy’s lips, this one more genuine.

      “Sure.” He nodded. “I get it.”

      “It was just once.” Steve said hurriedly, suddenly regretting his decision to share. “It wasn’t even…I mean, I didn’t…”

      “Make a mess?” Billy offered, eyes reclaiming their usual bold glint.

      Both the remark and the smile with which it was delivered sent Steve’s pulse racing. Suddenly, the apprehension slipped away and was replaced with something a little more assured. He felt a small rush of adrenaline start to speak for him.

      “Can you blame me?” He smiled, ignoring the rapid-fire pace his heart was taking. “I mean, eyes that blue, kinda hard not to take notice.”

      He couldn’t help but savour the sight of Billy Hargrove caught off guard.

      “That what does it for you, huh?” Billy asked when he’d regained his composure.

      Steve felt his face flush red again but made no attempt to conceal it. He smiled and shrugged and feigned nonchalance.

      “Helps.” He sighed. “That and a good smile.”

      “Good smile?” Billy probed, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards.

      “Yeah.” Steve nodded, pretending his whole body wasn’t overheating. “You know, that shit-eating grin that makes you wanna slap it right off their face?”

      Billy laughed again, full and loud and wholly genuine. Steve watched his face closely, relished being able to pull that reaction from him.

      “Yeah, that’s it.” He said, nodding slightly.

      “What?” Billy cleared his throat, the remnants of his outburst still spread across his lips.

      Steve could feel his breath getting shorter.

      “Good smile.”

      Billy tipped his head back against the car and gave him a delighted little smirk, gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips and back. Steve felt the shiver run down his neck again.

      “Look at you.” Billy murmured, any trace of upset long gone. “This what it feels like to get hit on by Steve Harrington?”

      The pounding in Steve’s chest vibrated through his whole body, made his fingers twitch and his voice shake.

      “I don’t know, what does it feel like?”

      His chest suddenly felt heavy as he watched Billy wet his lips.

      “Pretty fucking good.” His eyes drifted to Steve’s lips again. “Like I said. Kinda hard to say no to.”

      There was a moment, a split second between when he slipped a hand to the back of Billy’s neck and when he pulled him close enough to catch his lips, that Steve thought he saw worry in those cried-out blue eyes. It was a quick flash, coinciding with a deep intake of breath. He wondered, for that half a moment, if Billy had ever actually kissed a guy before. His mind quickly flashed through every sordid, detailed and often degrading story he’d heard flung about recently regarding Billy’s supposed escapades. And then it settled on Billy himself, sitting there, looking almost terrified at the prospect of kissing him.

      “You okay?” Steve whispered, body screaming for him to swallow the inch between their lips.

      There was a nod, but it did nothing to hide that glimpse of unease swimming in the blue.

      Steve brushed his thumb gently at the nape of Billy’s neck for a moment before finally letting himself lean in.

      It felt like arriving at a long-sought destination. Every part of him that had been running double time, his racing heart and itching fingers and the ebbing rage in his gut, had their moment of release, converging for an instant before vanishing completely. He couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss.

      The relief didn’t seem to be his alone. From his grip on Billy’s neck, Steve could feel the stiffness in his shoulders slowly sink away. After a moment, a hand brushed past Steve’s cheek and buried itself in his hair, pulling him closer.

      He felt almost giddy when Billy parted his lips for him and he took the opportunity to slip his hand forward, cupping Billy’s chin and urging him to open his mouth wide. Steve licked gently into his mouth and couldn’t resist chuckling slightly when it elicited a small whine.

      Quick as a flash, Billy retreated, pulling back and swatting Steve’s hand away.

      “Whoa, what’s – ”

      “Don’t laugh at me.” Billy said, bluntly.

      The red in his cheeks made Steve hate himself a little bit.

      “I’m not.” He assured him, smile wiped from his face.

      “If you’re fucking with me, Harrington…” Billy shook his head. “I can’t do it. Not from you.”

      Steve saw more pain in his eyes then than he had over the past few months. Cautiously, he moved closer and rested a hand on Billy’s knee. There was a small flinch.

      “I’m not fucking with you.” He insisted, staring Billy dead in the eye. “I’m just…I’m happy.”

      Billy swallowed nervously.

      “Happy?” He whispered.

      Steve nodded, smile sneaking back onto his face.

      “Yeah. Yeah, I’m really fucking happy. This makes me really fucking happy.” He felt the red rush back to cheeks. “You getting excited makes me really fucking happy.”

      A small breath of laughter slipped past Billy’s lips.

      “Shit, play a little hard to get, Harrington.” He teased, worry not yet dispelled from his eyes.  

      Steve shook his head.

      “No way. You think you’re getting rid of me after this?”

      Billy bit back a shameless grin.

      “Shit.” He sniffed. “Well if I’m stuck with you, guess I better make the most of it.”