#cat billy hargrove

[stillbeatingheart]

thought about burning the past

Also on Ao3

Harringroveson AU: Billy is a cat, Eddie is a bat, and Steve is just trying to keep everyone alive now that they're back to being that way.

Fic under the cut (I don't see any warnings that would apply, but this would be established poly relationship, post Upside Down)

A big orange cat paw stretches out and pins the chirping bat to the carpet.  

“Knock it off,” Steve warns as he kicks off his shoes.  When he walked up to the door it had sounded like a herd of buffalo in here.  He’s been amazed more than once at how much noise these idiots can make, even in forms that should be quiet and agile.  

The bat squeaks and the cat reaches out with his right paw to whack the bat before he releases him.  The orange cat sprawls out on his belly in the strip of sun on the floor, licking his paw and running it across his head before laying both paws out in front of him, kneading the carpet and kicking out his back legs.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Steve wonders towards the cat.  The cat flips his tail in response, rests his chin on his paws and closes his big blue eyes.

“Of course you are,” he mutters and he stoops down to offer the bat his open palm.  The bat looks disgruntled but unwounded as he hops up into Steve’s hand. “Don’t act innocent in all this either,” he warns the bat, “I know you most likely started it.”

The bat squeaks in response, shakes like he’s flicking the dirt of the afternoon off his coat, and then tucks his wings in close to his body.  

“You won’t dignify that with a response, then?” Steve sighs, brings his hand up to his shoulder to let the bat climb on.  

“I’m out there all day earning money to pay the bills, working my fingers to the bone, and here you two are just playing a game of tag.  It’s like you don’t even care if you ever go back to your human form.” 

The bat squeaks, nudges against the side of Steve’s throat with his face.  The cat opens one eye, his ear twitches and then he closes it.  

“What if I kicked you out?  Would that change your drive to figure this shit out?”

Eddie squeaks again, Billy flops over to his side and flips his tail.

“I suppose no one cooked dinner either,” Steve says as he makes his way towards the kitchen. “What’ll it be tonight? Insect soup with a mouse chaser?”

Eddie makes a coughing noise right next to Steve’s ear and Steve snorts.  He reaches for a can of soup and dumps it into a pot, firing up the stove, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter.  Eddie’s body weight is shifting from foot to foot on Steve’s shoulder and he knows he wants to tell him something but they’ve yet to figure out a way to communicate.  

Sure, this whole thing seems a little like Steve’s fault but he doesn’t regret it.  He’d been asking the world in general for his boyfriends to return from the Upside Down and reiterating plenty of times in his most distressed states that he didn’t care how they came back or how they’d changed, just that they came back.  He tried witchcraft in his more desperate hour, and well, it worked he supposes because now they’re back.  And not really human.  It’s not like some Pet Cemetery thing or whatever, they aren’t zombie animals, they aren’t blood thirsty or taking any opportunity to bite Steve and eat his flesh.  They’re actually kind of really fucking adorable, but he’s not going to say that to either of them.  At least not yet, not until they figure out if his foray into spell casting fucked them over for life or if it’s something they can control and shift like a werewolf.  Fictionally speaking.  Steve’s never met a werewolf and used to doubt their existence but in the last couple years he’s decided to just never doubt anything.  If he never doubts anything then he can’t be surprised anymore.  

He hasn't told anyone about this just yet, it seems way too complicated to explain to anyone, including Robin.  Though he feels guilty every time he’s around her and his mind wanders back to home, back to wondering what Eddie and Billy are up to, if they’ve killed each other yet being cooped up inside all day without anyone else for entertainment around. Then again, they did just spend months in the Upside Down with nothing but each other, so they’re probably pretty used to it.  

He also knows the first thing anyone is going to ask is how exactly he knows it’s them.  It’s just some random cat and some random bat that have come into his home and he’s crazy enough to believe it’s Billy and Eddie, like the truth is he’s fallen into some kind of delusional state and he’s truly just building his life around a feline and a mammal.  He can’t really take the chance that he end up in a mental facility and Eddie is put down, Billy put in a shelter.  

Steve’s gaze flicks over to Billy, he’s flipped over to lie on his back.  Showing his belly.  Steve never had pets, so he did a little research at the library.  He knows they aren’t actually animals, so it’s not like he can follow pet owning as a golden rule, but he figures it doesn’t hurt to know about dietary restrictions and body language as much as he can.  So he knows that Billy showing his belly doesn’t mean he wants to be pet there, it just means he’s in a place where he feels safe and he trusts the people he’s around.  Yeah, there’s no way he can allow this cat to end up in a shelter.  Billy would end up getting put down after he bit every single hand that reached for him.

And Eddie, well, he’d either be set free to go live amongst his own.  Or they’d deem him incapable of survival in the wild after being domesticated.  Steve reaches a hand up, scratches Eddie’s tiny furry head.  Eddie leans into it and when Steve drops his hand to get the soup off the stove, he drops from his shoulder.  It’s not enough height for Eddie to actually fly, but he can use his wings to slow himself down and cushion his landing on the counter.  This was something that took some trial and error and a whole lot of Steve catching Eddie in his palm before he could hit the ground and hurt himself.  

Steve pours the warmed soup into a bowl, spoons some of the veggies and chicken out onto a plate.  He calls out towards the sleeping cat, “Billy, food’s ready.”

For Eddie, he cuts a few chunks off an apple and lays them out on the counter beside him.  He squeaks what sounds like thanks, so Steve responds, “You’re welcome.”

Billy’s ear twitched, so he knows the asshole heard him.  But he hasn’t bothered to get up yet. “Well, I’m not bringing it to you, so if you’re hungry eat before it gets cold.  Or eat it cold later, I don’t care.”

Billy stays still, like he hasn’t listened to a word.  Until Steve pulls the stool out at the counter and sits down to eat his own bowl of soup.  Then he’s getting up, stretching long, yawning and sauntering over to rub against Steve’s ankle.  He stands on his back legs, reaching up with his front paws to Steve’s knee.

“Yeah, except that I know you come up here all the time and lick the plates in the sink.  So…” Steve reaches down anyway.  If Billy is seeking touch, then he’s not going to deny him.  He just needs to make it clear that he’s onto him without so many words.  He lifts Billy from under his belly and sets him on his leg, pushes his little china plate over close to the edge so Billy can eat without getting up on the counter.  There's a bat already on the counter, so it’s not like Steve is trying to impress anyone, but it’s kinda nice to have Billy keeping his thigh warm under his fluffy vibrating weight.  

Steve talks them through his day, gives them any theories he has about how to get them back to their human states, while they eat.  Eddie is making it clear he’s listening by giving Steve eye contact and doing this cute little nod thing every so often, squeaking softly like a hum when there’s moments between Steve’s words.  Billy is not offering anything, he’s chowed down his soup and curled up on Steve’s lap.  His tail flipping in a steady rhythm against Steve’s hip the only thing proving he’s even awake anymore.   

When Eddie is done eating, he hops across the counter, climbs his way up Steve’s arm and settles in on his shoulder.  As much as he loves cuddle time, it’d be a lot easier if they’d wait until he was done eating and sitting on something more comfortable than a kitchen stool.  He tells them as much, Eddie nudges his neck and Billy flicks an ear.  Neither of them bother to get up.  

“Isn’t this what you two do all day already?” Steve wonders when he’s done eating and Billy is allowing a head scratching.  Billy sighs and Eddie chirps.  

“Alright,” Steve says after a few moments.  He lifts Billy off his lap and instead of being still and trusting Steve to deliver him to the couch, he jumps down, digging his back claws into Steve’s thigh on the way. It startles Eddie when Steve stiffens under the pinpricks of pain, he dives off Steve’s shoulder and hits the counter with a thump.  Billy hit the ground, went off like a shot and Steve is pretty sure he’s going to hide under the couch all evening.

“You alright?” He asks Eddie, laying his palm out for him to step into.  

Eddie does so, and eagerly accepts the lift to his perch.  The tips of his wings tickle against Steve’s neck when Eddie lays on his belly, using his wings to balance his weight.  

“If this lasts much longer, I’ll have to clue Robin in on it so she can help me mend my wardrobe appropriately.  Little pads on my shoulders for you.  A sling to carry Billy in.”

Eddie squeaks his approval as Steve starts working on the dishes.  

^~^

Steve is already in bed, with Eddie hanging off the curtain rod, by the time Billy makes his way back out from under the couch.  He’s silent on his way into the room, the dim light from the hall slanting across the floor when he pushed the door open.  Steve hears it when he jumps up to the foot of the bed, feels his weight on the mattress.  He’s careful when he puts one paw out to test the waters.  Laying it on Steve’s ankle like an apology for clawing him earlier.  

Steve pats his chest, the place that’s become Billy’s favorite place to spend the night.  Which is equal parts comforting and uncomfortable for Steve, but his warmth and purring outweigh the pressure of his body on Steve’s sternum.  Billy carefully walks the length of Steve’s leg like a balance beam, keeping his claws in and making every footfall light.  It’s impressive even with the careful stepping just how much weight is on each paw.  It’s not like cats are heavy, Billy is kind of a brick of a cat, but he’s still a cat.  

When he walks across Steve’s belly, Steve tightens his muscles to protect himself and to give Billy solid footing.  Also, he can just imagine Billy’s voice saying, “Getting a little soft in the middle Harrington,” if Steve didn’t pull his abs taut for his crossing.  

With all four paws on Steve’s chest, Billy headbutts Steve’s chin.

Steve lifts his hand and strokes Billy’s head, then follows the curve of his spine to his tail before he starts over at his head again.  Billy arches into it, purrs so loud it might as well be the only sound in the room.  It’s always been easier for Billy to offer affection in the cover of darkness, Steve’s not surprised it’d be any different in this form.  

It’s really not hard to fall asleep with Billy’s soft warmth under his hand and against his chin, with that weight on his chest chasing the nightmares away.  By morning Eddie has made himself comfortable tucked into the juncture of Steve’s shoulder and neck.  His tiny puffs of breath tickling Steve’s ear and the undeniable feeling of being stared at are the things that wake him.  Opening his eyes, he’s met with Billy’s big blue ones giving him the unblinking stare that only a creepy ass cat can dole out.  As soon as Steve blinks at him, he’s launching himself off the bed and scampering out the door like his mission has been accomplished just by startling someone out of a deep sleep with only his eyes.  

“Asshole,” Steve mutters, reaching out to slap his alarm before it can go off.  The motion wakes Eddie, who immediately clambers up into Steve’s hair. “Not the hair, man, c’mon,” he grumbles as he pulls himself to seated on the bed to scrub at his face, “Why do I even put up with this?  I gotta get you changed back before you both drive me insane.”

Chapter two

[mangywayway]

The piece I did for the @harringrovezine "Kings of Nowhere" !

It has been so much fun, I still can't believe that I could contribute to this project. I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that one year already has gone by, gosh (◕▿◕✿)

[harringroveera]

The courting ritual is super intricate and the boys are nailing it

[buckysgrace]

I both love and hate that Billy won’t admit his true feelings to a girl he cares about. That’s just so canon. I can see him the second he starts having feelings, freaking out in his head and distancing himself. Poor Bills 😫 Maybe that’s why I love fanfic where he has a happy ending. He really deserves one

Idk if you were asking for little blurbs but, that’s what you GET! <3

Ughhhh same same. I think he’s just so…. Fearful perhaps? Really afraid and stubborn to just open up and share what he feels (also also also the fear of being abandoned is soooo strong when he’s with someone he cares about in my opinion).

So then yes he starts distancing himself because it’s easier for him to put up those walls before he gets hurt, but maybe you’re also a little stubborn. Or just oblivious. And despite the fact that he is really trying to get away from you, you just can’t let that happen. <3

I think he’d be pretty strict on you two being “Just friends.” No arguments, he’s too scared to fully talk about labels or that he’d like you enough to consider you to be his partner (he’s crazy about you).

And I think you’d also have to deal with this man staring at you just all the time. He loves eye contact already but he also just loves to memorize how you look?? Definitely has your little quirks down and when you ask him why he’s staring he’s always gonna say you have something on your face lmao.

I think he’s also like reserved about physical touch? Very scared of accidentally hurting you at first and it’s just so uncommon to him that he gets all nervous and his hands get all sweaty and clammy lol. But once he’s over that?? He’s touching you all the time, everywhere and it doesn’t matter who’s around lol.

And so yeah maybe he won’t admit that he’s absolutely whipped and crazy about you but I think you could certainly tell by his gestures? Soft nose kisses, tracing your lips and holding you close any time he can <3

He will definitely refer to you as his pretty girl (or pretty boy whichever you prefer). I think he’d definitely warm up to like baby or babe but calling his person pretty really warms his heart <3

Piggybacking off of that like… he would get so flustered and defensive if you compliment him. Would act like he cannot believe you did such a thing and pshhh, him? Pretty?? Absolutely cannot handle you saying such things about him. He knows he’s attractive but something about you saying it so gently, so sweetly and softly makes his knees weak.

Okay and I think at first too he just… is not the best gift giver. He has not had that practice before so it’s not necessarily sloppy but when he buys you things it would be within the hobby that you enjoy, but more of his style (for instance if you like reading he’s 100% getting you his favorite genre or book). Which is also, sweet but I do think he’s observant enough that after the first few times he truly understand what you like and what you don’t like.

I also think he’s down with restaurant dates and going to the movie theater and what not but I truly believe he loves to do things that are more sensual and deep? He’s definitely a late night, lying under the stars and having deep talks kind of guy. It takes a lot for him to open up but you best believe he has you memorized like the back of his hand.

AND I also think he is just such a gentleman?? Holding the door open for you, holding your hand as you step up a curb, giving you his jacket?? All of those omg.

I think he’d also ask your parents permission to date/marry you and all of that stuff (granted you have a good relationship with him). He just seems like he’d really want to have a good relationship with them too??

I’d also like to think that he just admits his feelings just randomly, maybe not even fully realizing he did it either?? Say you’re sat together on your couch early on a Saturday morning watching cartoons, definitely a little hungover, and he’s just like “You know I love you, right?”

And you’re just so taken aback and this is definitely not the scene that you imagined (neither did he) but it just works. Takes a lot for you to muster the words back because how emotional would that be?? Then he’d just squeeze your knee with a little smile and settle back into comfortable silence 🥺

Idk if any of this made sense but but he’s just my special little guy I luv him very dearly hehe

[fanny-rollingstone]

WHAT IF platonic calicheer

it has the energy of little birds who are friends with crocodiles

they’re the opposite of steve and robin: while their friendship is just straight up bullying each other and people around them, calicheer are supportive and kind to each other

chrissy being so patient and sweet to billy it makes him want to open up for her and tell her some of his crazy ass lore

chrissy being the comphet patriarchy victim that she is, which makes her unable to talk back and stand up for herself, and billy being the comphet toxic masculinity monstrosity that he is, which lets him stand up for her and protect her from other toxic masculinity monstrosities

billy complaining to her about his dad and chrissy complaining to him about her mom

billy slowly coming to the realization that he’s gay as FUCK and freaking out, and chrissy being so patient and accepting and supportive to him it makes him feel better for a minute

ALSO while i’m at it how about platonic chrissybillyeddie???? idk what to call them uhh mungrovegham? cungroveson?????? you get me yk

chrissy having the scary dog privilege with billy and eddie by her sides

eddie being openly gay while billy suffocating in the closet

chrissy being too kind and soft to cuss her mom out and then eddie and billy roasting the fuck out of mrs cunningham and promising chrissy to arrange a murder

NO ONE even THINKING of being creepy and weird with chrissy because eddie’s a rumoured criminal and billy seems capable of things for an nc-21 darknet selling dvd horror documentary

chrissy being slow and patient with billy’s sexuality crisis and eddie being like "jesus fucking christ dude you’re a HOMOSEXUAL you’re a GAY man, DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT STOP FUCKING AROUND"

people wondering whether they’re a couple + a guy in a friend zone? a love triangle? two guys fighting over a girl? a polyamorous trio? while them being just three homosexuals hanging out together

i love this tbh

[shieldofiron]

No relation to anything whatsoever but imagine the utter shenanigans that Pepper and Steve get up to when billy is out the house. Imagine them.

Billy would be jealous, if she wasn't so cute. Five pounds nothing, sleek black fur and the biggest greenest eyes you've ever seen.

Eyes that were currently staring up at him like, "why are you home so early?"

Steve was giving him much the same look, though with less disappointment, flicking off the radio that had been loudly blaring 'Juno' by Sabrina Carpenter. Steve's current favorite song.

"What the hell is this?" Billy smirked.

"Baking," Steve said.

"With Pepper?" Billy frowned.

"No... well... she likes to be in the kitchen while I do it."

"She's covered in flour."

"She just got underfoot. She hasn't been on the counter, I swear," Steve raised his hands.

"Mrrowp," Pepper chimed in.

"Was she... singing with you?" Billy asked.

"No. Oh my god. She's a cat?"

Billy had been almost positive he'd heard a yowl along with Steve's crackly baritone.

But he let it go, sneaking a hand around Steve's back to pinch his ass. And the cookies, it turned out, were nothing short of magical.

Did this turn into a Bewitched au? You tell me.

[larilarry]

-Nap time-

[calicheer-cove]

🐱Meow🐱

[lorifragolina]

Pretzel

Steve Harrington runs an animal shelter with his friend and fellow veterinary Robin. 

They have a joke between them: they often have to take in poor unfortunate abandoned pets, and they used to name them after the last thing Steve ate. All started years ago, when Robin came in with a rescued parrot and asked Steve how they should name it, who distractedly answered “Montecristo,” pointing at the half sandwich on his desk. Montecristo has been the shelter mascot since then and Robin, after laughing out loud for a good minute, declared the tradition set up. 

He finds a carton box this day on the clinic door, and there are Pretzel, Brownie and Caesar (salad), Steve’s lunch he just ate in the cafeteria at the corner. They are so tiny they can easily rest in Steve’s hands, they have to be bottle fed every four hours for some day until they can eat alone, and the red Pretzel is the real incarnation of the very Satan.

This fluffy demon is able to eat the entire prescription book on Robin’s desk, he learned how to open his cage at night and he plots new pranks everyday, bribing his sibling with the delicious treats Steve hides in his drawers. 

The kitty is on a shelf, adjusting his bottom to the distance, and then…

“Robin! The demon jumped on my head! Come and catch him!”

Robin runs in the room, laughing out loud. She takes the furious, hissing kitty and returns him in the cage, locking it with the complicated system of chains, sticks and duct tape they invented to keep him in. 

“It’s funny, he seems to attack only you,” Robin laughed, checking the scratches on Steve’s neck. 

“He hated me. I bottle fed him and he hates me,” whimpers Steve.

“Welcome to parenting,” Robin laughed again, disinfecting him.

A few days later, Pretzel is missing.

“Where is the little demon? The cage is closed!” Rambled Robin, inspected the shelf.

The little demon has been secretly and patiently breaking the bottom of the cage, ripping the wood and the plastic until he can fit in the hole and disappear.

“He can be everywhere! We left the door open when we cleaned before!” Robin was worried and angry with herself, they need to have a thousand eyes with all these little rascals inside… 

They turn everything but the cat isn’t there. Steve walked a hundred times the street back and forth, calling him, but without success. He asked their neighboring shops if they saw a little ginger cat that probably would try to kill them if they tried to catch him.

The only one he can’t advise is  the mechanic shop three doors down at the other side of the street. 

Steve has already seen the blonde, handsome mechanic, most of the time covered in car grease and a stupid sexy overall he leaves open on his chest, but he has neves spoken to him. He just stared at him most of the time, and at this moment the shop seems closed.

Steve and Robin wait and search all day for little Pretzel, but at a certain moment Robin has to clock out and go home, Steve stays for some paperworks.

An instant before, the bells on the door ring and Steve snorts. 

“Robin, what did you forget this time?”

“I’m not Robin and maybe I have something you want back”.

Steve raises his eyes and remains mouth wide open for a while.

The blonde, hot mechanic he likes to stare at is here in front of him, only this time he is perfectly cleaned and combed and his hair isn't covered in dark oil. Steve can smell the colony from his desk. 

The mechanic opens his jacket and shows a little ball of red fur, sleeping and purring against his chest. Steve has never seen Pretzel sleeping so peacefully and surely he has never heard him purring. 

The blonde man raises the cat to his face and rubs his face to the content kitty (when Steve tried to do it, he almost lost an eye), and the kitty seems to really smile at the blonde while mocking Steve with the corner of his eye.

“Hey princess!” Call the mechanic again. “Is he the kitty you were searching for? Mary from the cafe said something”.

Steve blinks and shakes, then nods.

“Yes, of course, he is! Thank you!”

“What’s his name?”

“Well, he is Pretzel…”

“Oh, really? I really, really love pretzels…” answered the mechanic, rubbing the cat more to him. “Is the little Pretzel available for adoption?”

Steve is fascinated by the hot man playing with the kitty, but he has to shake his head.

“Not now, Pretzel has a condition we need to treat. But when he will be ok, we can consider your offer”, he says, raising his hands to take the animal. He has to get near the mechanic, inside his personal space, and blushes and shivers when they touch each other. 

“Well, can I contribute to his treatments?” Insists the blonde.

“Well, it’s all covered really…”

“At least can I buy you a drink? I’m Billy, by the way”.

Steve puts Pretzel down in another cage, really hoping he could stay there for at least a night. He turns his back to Billy so he can’t see him blushing furiously.

“Well, okay…” he whispered, shivering a little and excited.

The drink rapidly becomes a sandwich and an ice cream, and a ride on Billy's vintage Camaro.

“Do you like it?” Says Billy. “I can take you for a ride, if you want”.

The next morning, Robin finds Steve already at his desk in the early morning. 

“Steve? Are you here so early? You look tired! Did you find Pretzel?”

Steve nodded.

“Steve? Are you wearing the same clothes of yesterday?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Robin!”

The doorbell rings and Robin goes to speak with a man with a carton box. She returned putting the box with a mallard duck on the desk. 

“Look what people throw away nowadays… Well, Steve, did you have breakfast?”

Steve blushes and shakes his head slowly, lowering his eyes.

Robin is puzzled. “Well, we have to name that little one, what is the last thing you ate?”

Steve blushed even more, sinking in his chair.

“Billy. Her name is Billy”.

[stillbeatingheart]

thought about burning the past (chapter 2)

Also on ao3

Summary: Billy is a cat, Eddie is a bat, and Steve is just trying to keep everyone alive now that they are again.

I don't see any warnings that apply, but this is post Upside Down, established polycule, Harringroveson, also it's crack so don't take it seriously

Chapter one

Chapter two under the cut:

Billy's got it made.  No job.  No school.  No father.  No social constructs to adhere to.  So he’s gotta put up with Eddie’s constant chipping and chattering all day.  His attempt at stunts that he can’t pull off.  And his crash landings onto Billy’s belly.  But if Billy wants affection, all he has to do is climb up in Steve’s lap.  If he wants food, all he has to do is brush against Steve’s ankles.  If he wants attention without physical contact, he just hops up to the counter and knocks shit off to the floor.  His biggest expenditure of energy on any given day is having to move every so often to follow the sunny spots on the floor, or the couch, or the table, or the counter, or the bookshelf, or Steve’s bed.  It’s just really not that bad of a trade-off.  

Billy spent his life, after his mom left, being the sole focus of Neil’s anger.  Trying to fit into what his father expected of him.  Then he finally had a plan, a summer job, and a savings account to get the hell out of Hawkins and out of Neil’s house in the Fall for college.  Only to have the Upside Down fuck that all up.  He has no idea how long he was down there.  He spent all of it in some weird comatose state where his mind was bogged down with visions of things he wasn’t using his own eyes to see.  Surrounded by false reality and being kept alive by the Mind Flayer for some super special evil plan to take over the world or whatever stupid shit villains are always after.  Billy doesn’t care, he doesn’t need to know, and he wants no part of stopping it if it ever comes down to some heroic action necessary.  He already played the hero card by trying to fight the Spider Monster with his bare hands.  And he died.  Or sort of died.  

So why the hell would he want to go back to his human form?  That’d be stupid.  Nothing good has ever come of being in his skin.  Maybe the fur is the way to go.

Billy rolls over onto his back, kicks his legs up and closes his eyes.  That’s the other great part about being a cat, he can sleep.  He can sleep anywhere, any time, and in any position.  

Eddie doesn’t seem to be any worse or better off either.  He doesn’t seem in any rush to get back to his human body.  He’s terrible at those wings and Billy thinks it’s a waste that he’s the one who gets to fly.  Though if Billy had wings, he’d be the fuck out of here.  Going back to nature and surviving that way without the smallest trace of a human life at any point.  

Billy’s left back leg twitches and wakes him, just enough to blink one eye and make sure Munson is still hooked on the ceiling light and not about to dive-bomb Billy’s belly.  

He’s a good looking cat if he does say so himself.  Of course his soft fluff is irresistible to Eddie and Steve.  Steve has a bad habit of messing up the fur on the top of his head, running his palm back and forth like Billy is a dog asking for a head scratching.  But all Billy has to do is give him a glare, lick his paw and smooth the fur back out for him to get it.  Not that it stops him the next time.  The idiot always smiles when he’s scratching Billy’s head, so if he has to admit it, then it’s not bad trade.  

The licking though.  That’s the biggest downside.  Licking his own body to get clean, and getting fur-balls stuck in his throat.  Of course, he just pukes them up on Steve’s sock or in his shoe or something anyway, so at least it’s amusing.  For Billy.  And Billy is truly all that matters.

Eddie appears to still be sleeping.  Lazy fuck.  Billy closes his eye again and makes himself comfortable.  He wonders if Eddie is starting to miss anyone, maybe his uncle.  Billy only met him once but he seemed like an actual decent human being - which is a strange new concept for Billy when it comes to adult males.  And maybe Eddie’s missing his bandmates or his nerd club.  For being a freak and an outcast, the guy’s got a pretty big group of friends.  

Billy doesn’t miss a fucking soul.  He never did.  Except for Steve and Eddie.  When he was allowed reign over his own mind, it would always drift to the two of them.  Then one day Eddie appeared there too, Billy couldn’t tell him to run, to stop fighting and just get the fuck out.  He couldn’t tell Steve either.  Or any of the idiots that kept coming down there.  He couldn’t say a thing.  The one small mercy the Mind Flayer had on him was not to use him as a weapon against anyone other than Max.  Max is one thing, Billy knows she’s a tough bird, he’d never tell her that, but he knew that she’d see through the Mind Flayer’s shit when he was using Billy as a puppet.  If Billy had been used against Steve or Eddie, he’s not sure they’d have fared so well.  As it was, Eddie didn’t exactly fare well considering he also “died”. 

They couldn’t communicate with each other down there.  They could see each other through the Mind Flayer’s eyes though.  It was much worse watching Eddie trapped than it was being trapped.  

Then one day the captivity was severed and they were here, in Steve’s place, in bodies that didn’t belong to them.  It was like waking up after a super long and vivid nightmare only to realize that shit was still not right.  Billy doesn’t really care though, he’s not Upside Down anymore and being a cat just ain’t that bad.  

He refuses to speak though.  He did it once when they were alone, just to see if Eddie could understand him, and he sounded so fucking stupid meowing that he never tried it again.  He can’t control the purrs, doesn’t really mind them either since they’re truly soothing for both him and Steve.  Maybe Eddie too.  Not that he'd know since Eddie always chooses the moments of deep relaxation to interrupt in increasingly more obnoxious ways.  

Billy slants one eye open, sometimes just thinking of the asshole makes him act up, like Billy’s brain pokes Eddie’s with a little needle every time he dares think his name.  Eddie’s wing is over his face.  Perfect.

Billy gives in this time.  Allowing himself to fall deep into sleep, his purring the only sound in the room.  And then a bowling ball falls on his bared belly.

His body reacts, curving into a shape that only a cat body can, grabbing Munson by the head with his claws and pushing into his body with his back-feet.  Billy holds him there for a second, right in close to his face, bares his teeth and glares.  He waits until the cocky little light in Eddie’s eyes gives way to a tiny flash of real fear and then he pushes him away.  Eddie rolls across the floor, under the couch and squawks, the type of chatter that sounds like a little kid tattling on another.  

“Fuck you, Munson,” Billy sighs as he lowers himself back down to the ground on his side.  he flips his tail and waits.  Knowing he’ll come out soon, he’ll make himself small and act all shy while he approaches Billy, like his animal nature is what made him do it and he was not in control of his actions at all.

“Fuck you too,” Eddie responds and then nearly shouts, “Wait, I just understood you!” as he’s scrabbling across the floor on his wings and feet, “Did you understand me?  I just heard you, Billy, I got that, and it was in English, tell me you got me too.”

Billy lifts his paw, keeping his claws in and holding it in the air over Eddie’s head.  Eddie cowers back a bit, stands on his feet and opens his wings to show that he’s innocent at the moment and not planning any attacks.  He tilts his head to the side and wonders again, “Can you understand me?”

“Yes,” Billy admits begrudgingly, “and it was much more peaceful before that happened, so let’s go back to just chirps and shit.”

“Ha ha Hargrove,” Eddie rolls his eyes and takes a step closer.  Billy keeps his paw hovering in the space between them. “Okay, I get it, I’m annoying.  But I don’t deserve to die - again - just for disrupting your sleep.”

Billy snorts, pushes his claws out.

“Fine.  Fine.  Maybe I do considering I’ve been doing it daily for weeks now.  But it’s so funny when you startle, you make it like a full two inches off the ground and your’e just a big furball and not at all the intimidating figure you are as a man, I have to get my shots in when I can take them.” 

Billy sneers, showing his teeth and Eddie takes another step back.

“I didn’t say not at all intimidating, I only said not as intimidating.  Or something close to that, hey, that’s not what we should be focusing on.  We can understand each other!  Billy, we can understand each other!  That’s fucking metal, man, c’mon, we’re one step closer to figuring this all out, and I haven’t heard your voice in so, so long that I almost forgot what it sounded like so can you say something now and interrupt me so I know I’m not imagining this?”

“Fuck off Munson,” Billy responds but finally puts his paw down on the carpet, kneading into it a few times before laying his chin on top of it.  If bats could smile, Eddie’s dimples would be showing by now.  

He hobbles over on his wings and feet, nudges Billy’s face with his own and admits, “I love when you cuss me out, baby.”

Billy could probably admit that he missed hearing Eddie’s voice, that he missed being able to speak.  Instead, he licks his sandpaper tongue right up the center of Eddie’s face.  Eddie squawks in protest and spreads his wings out wide to throw them over Billy’s face and attach himself there.  

Inevitably it starts a brawl, they're still at it when Steve opens the door and steps in.  Steve sighs, runs a hand through his hair, points a finger at them and opens his mouth to reprimand but Eddie hollers, “He started it!”

“I doubt that,” Steve responds.  Then freezes.  Completely.  The fact that he just understood what Eddie said dawning on his face, his mouth falling open and his eyes bugging. “Wait, did you just… did I just… can we understand each other now?  Or I guess you’ve probably understood me the whole time, right?  But can I…”

“Yeah, baby!” Eddie responds from where he’s still trying to push Billy’s paw off his belly, pinning him to the floor.

Billy only releases him when Eddie decides to nip at his toe.  He whacks Eddie across the face with his claws in, then gets up to walk over and sit on his sunny window ledge.  He needs a bath after all those bat germs got all over him.  And he’s not sure how he feels about this new development.  Being one step closer to being human again seems a lot more negative than positive.  He wants no part in figuring it out.

chapter 3

Also on ao3

[mangywayway]

🦷 Of your fangs, I have made my home 🦷

.

Hello hello, slowly coming back ✌🏻. Enjoy this completely self-indulgent piece (as literally everything I draw lololol)

(here you can find the Steve's version)

[harringroveera]

Steve now has a cat and a boyfriend

[elowmojo]

Billy and Stewy 🐱

[cicadasketch]

Seen @thediktatortot ‘s post about werecat Billy and the possibilities were just too good I HAD to

Anyways,

Max thinks hunting small animals is cruel (and gross)— Billy thinks she’s an idiot (he definitely left it at Steve’s doorstep)

Whatever steve did, he definitely regrets it

[catharrington]

Link to read on AO3

Steve’s inside a tiny pop up bar, hastily designed and constructed in a warehouse as if that made it more dangerous than anyother bar. They were becoming a thing in the 90’s he supposed, like oversized suit jackets or spiked-collars. And he liked them just fine. It was even deeper underground than most seedy gay clubs.

The people who drink here don’t mind that he's a hybrid.

They don’t mind his triangle-shaped ears atop his messy, brown hair, or the long fur-covered tail that relays every emotion he’s feeling out loud for the world to see. Even the bad ones.

Like right now— seeing a ghost from his past again out of the blue, just a few seats down the bar, has got his tail flicking against his stool legs. A ringing metallic flick-flick-flick.

Steve digs his claw into the bar top, leaving a deep crescent mark.

Since Steve’s seen him last, he’s doing well. He’s smiling and glowing and he’s put on a few healthy pounds. He looks like he could lift Steve up over his head if he wanted to.

The ice in Steve’s drink melts and breaks apart with a soft noise. Another man at the bar tries to flirt with him, a hot, whispered breath right into the sensitive fur of his ears, but… Steve makes no moves to actually listen.

Because Steve isn’t at the bar anymore. He’s sinking into golden quicksand— California beach scalding.

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s staring until his pretty ghost turns around.

“Harrington?” His breathy voice asks. Just as boyish and melodic as ever.

“Harrington,” he repeats in a hiss, “back to last names? Should I be insulted, Hargrove?”

“Sorry, Stevie.” Billy chuckles as he leans over the bar. Up close, Steve can see he’s got a strawberry blond beard defining his jawline.

“I’ve got to say, I’m surprised to see you in a place like this.” He sings.

Steve can’t say he disagrees. His lips quirk up. Playful, it’s in his nature. “I come to these all the time, Billy. I like the atmosphere. And the art. It’s very new-age-industrial.”

Billy watches him for a moment with curious eyes, scanning over his expression. And, like so many years ago, Billy’s sea foam green eyes can read Steve’s face line for line like a damn book: “Bullshit.”

“I’m here to try and get laid!” Steve gives up the ruse with a laugh. It makes Billy’s own laughter come out, just as pretty as the rest of him. Steve takes a long swig of his drink while he allows Billy to laugh at him. Then slowly licks the sour taste from his lips.

Can’t help but notice Billy’s eyes track that movement as well.

“Is that what you want to hear?” Steve pushes.

Billy shrugs. He swipes back a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. “Yeah, sure. I believe that before Steve Harrington: indie art scene groupie.”

Steve rolls his eyes at being called a groupie. It’s not the worst thing, by far. “Sort of unfair you asked me what I was doing here, when I should ask the same. I thought you were splitting town? Running away from your old man?”

Billy watches Steve, his eyes widening as their last conversation resurfaces. As it floats to the top of Steve’s crappy mixed drink as buoyant as an olive.

“Figured you’d be sunburnt in Santa Carla by now?” Steve asks.

He asks and really means it.

That daydream had helped him repair his broken heart, his bruised and bloody ego, his tail between his legs. He told himself it wasn’t really about him, it was Billy’s father who ran him out of town. It was Billy’s father who planted and watered all the anger. The fact Steve was a hybrid was just a convenient excuse. Low hanging fruit. Even if the words never left his mind.

Even if the words sat on the edge of his bed every night to remind him of his unwantedness.

Steve imagines it was worth it, in some way, to get Billy to a safer place. Yet, he’s turned up here. Only a day’s drive from Steve’s hometown. In a pretentious pop-up bar. Glowing, and radiant, and blushing.

Billy lifts one hand to scrub at his beard. He’s got an open beer bottle pinched between his fingers. Effortlessly calm and suave. He takes a long swig before answering.

“Funny thing about Santa Carla… it’s a long drive out there for nowhere to stay.”

Billy’s searching his face, his body, as if it holds the answers. His electric-blue eyes settled finally on his tail.

Steve’s got to turn and order another drink. His fur starts standing on end from all the wonderful attention, preening from it.

“So you gave up?” Steve asks, uncaring.

“Something like that. I got a job here, an apartment. It was temporary ‘till I got some money, but you know. I just. Never left.”

Billy swallows thickly next to him. Shuffling as he gets closer. His hand is right beside Steve’s own as it lays on the bar.

Billy’s got ink all up and down his arms, on his chest and neck. He’s even got pretty things on the back of his hand. A red rose with brilliant green leaves curling over the edges of his palm.

Steve’s own hand itches to touch. To feel the tattoo’s raised scars, and Billy’s hot pulse under them. He wants to trace each one as if he were playing with lines of sunlight across the carpet on a sunny afternoon.

Steve reaches for his new drink, instead. He shivers as he drinks it down.

“Chicago’s not like Hawkins, then, huh? Where you just had to get out, just had to run—or, what?” Steve can taste the hatred in his own words. Stuck in his throat like a hair ball.

He was simply ‘Harrington’ to him across the bar now, only that. Billy’s hands were red, alright, but it wasn’t from his fucking tattoo. It was from Steve’s heart still beating inside of them.

“Steve,” Billy insists, “you know why I had to—.”

“I know.” Steve’s voice shakes with a whimper. His tail finally stops and curls closer to his feet, hiding away.

Steve blinks his swelling eyes down to Billy’s neck. The ink there is pretty too. Under the collar of the soft band t-shirt Billy’s wearing, Steve can see the wings of a flying sparrow.

“It was nice to see you again, Billy.”

Steve stands from the bar, finishing his drink before dropping a bill in one swift move, expecting to run away. He’s expecting to leave, to try and forget. Again. Just like last time.

But he doesn’t expect the hand that reaches for his elbow.

He doesn’t mean to shake the hand and keep walking. He’s on autopilot, he thinks. Blackout.

Feeling injured and lonely, Steve’s ears flatten to the top of his head and his tail hides between his legs. It had started raining while he was in the bar. The sidewalks are darker now, louder, from the onslaught.

And that’s just fine. The raindrops are fat and slow and they remind him of himself. He gasps for breath in the rain, and gets a mouthful.

“Oh, great, I’m drunk.” He mutters to himself.

Steve closes his eyes though a wave of nausea, stumbling further into the night, and when he opens them it’s like opening them up to a dream.

Blond curls turning dark in the rain, flattening to lay around Billy’s face in a pretty frame. His skin, pink and flushed from the cold, illuminates the freckles on his face like stars in the sky.

“Trying to make us even?” Billy yells over the rainfall.

Steve eyes him wary at first, hesitant he’s real at all.

“Making us even would be me calling you a freak!” He hissed.

Billy’s face falls. “Suppose so,” he calls. “You have every right to.”

Then he opens his arms. Holding them out as if waiting for a hug. Or a bullet. His shirts totally lost in the rain, turning the well loved gray to a solid black color that clings to Billy’s every curve. His abdomen is very welcoming, cozy, Steve wishes it could be his to run into.

He wished he could be the bullet. That he could hit Billy’s chest right there. Right there. In the same place his wound still bleeds.

But Steve was drunk. And cold. And wet. And his tail and ears hung so very heavy on his body.

He stayed quiet, watching blissfully as Billy got wetter and wetter. Until he wasn’t angry anymore.

“I was so mad at you for so long.” Forcing the words one by one, Steve’s voice trembles.

He closes his eyes and lets his silly, love-sick heart surge up into his throat.

“After us, I’ve spent my whole life trying to find someone that fits just like you, but… you’re different, Billy. You made me feel safe. Content. Warm.”

Billy scoffs, his hands dropping to his sides with a wet slap. “Bullshit.”

“Is it?” Steve meows a laugh.

Billy’s face creases in disgust, in confusion. Water falls from his long lashes as he blinks them rapidly.

“Cool it, kitty. I’m not some damn PRINCE CHARMING! I break everything I touch!” He yells over the rain. Over the base of the music they could still hear from the bar. Billy’s louder than any of that.

“Then why don’t you try fixing me!” Steve yells back. He’s desperate and mostly drunk as he steps closer.

And suddenly, Steve notices how Billy still radiates heat. The years of time between them tick down to nothingness. Steve shakes his head, pointed ears flicking water, his eyes a mix of tears and rain, and Billy opens his mouth like he’s about to ruin it.

But then, Steve’s pawing at that strawberry blond beard growth that wasn’t there years ago. And he pulls Billy’s head down with a light gasp that gets captured by Steve’s eager lips.

It’s a sad excuse for a kiss, it’s messy and it tastes like chilled beer. But Billy’s lips are hot, familiar, it makes Steve let out a whimpering, shameful moan.

Steve’s hands grip Billy’s shirt. Now he’s the one holding on— now he’s the one chasing. His claws rip the fabric with the want he has for Billy to stay so terribly bad.

“I never meant to hurt you.” Billy admits in a whisper.

He reaches down to cradle Steve’s arms. Slowly lifting the claws from his chest. Steve would let him do whatever he pleased, he’s already a trained house cat for Billy.

Their fingers laced together, as if pieces slotting back into place. With their hands like this, it brings back happy memories. On Steve’s teenage bed, in the early hours of the mornings before the world around them woke up. When Steve’s tail would wrap euphorically around Billy’s legs. When his ears were flattened by the force of his happy purring.

Then, Billy’s moving. Pulling him through the rain until Billy leads them to, truly, a tiny and shitty apartment. The red brick building was painted but beginning to flake off. Billy held his hand as they took the steps, and into the hallway, before begrudgingly letting go to fish his keys.

He turns over his shoulder to watch Steve. Key in the door. Steve is shivering, hugging his skinny frame, his sopping sweater. He doesn’t know what Billy could be looking at, but he smiles.

Billy opens the door and leads Steve inside. They settle in their underpants with towels around their heads on the couch. Their shoes and outer-clothes drip drying by the radiator.

Steve feels so content and warm he doesn’t even realize he’s purring.

“Woah, I really, really missed that.” Billy drawls. His hand finally reaches Steve’s tail, gently petting the tussled fur as if he spent years longing for this exact moment.

Steve can’t help but to kiss him again.

((My entry into the @harringrovezine Kings of Nowhere. I loved making Harringrove older and slightly down on their luck and lonely, so when I heard the prompt I jumped at making some sappy reunion scene. Of course I’ve got to make this pretty kitty Steven go through it a little bit before he becomes the King of Billy’s shitty apartment. And his whole life, I’m sure 😽😽. Thank you so much for letting me write on this amazing zine, make sure to check them out for other fic and art. Harringrove always and forever!!!))

[bigdumbbambieyes]

tw abuse mention

Billy had always been a dog person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🐾

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she began to purr.

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

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

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

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

She only purred louder.

🐾

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

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

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

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

But, he’d make it up to her.

🐾

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

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

🐾

She did.