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camaro-and-smokes · 4 months ago

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It's Always Been You

💙❄️ Here's my @harringroveholidayexchange fic I wrote for @freezef4wn ❄️💙

Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Max Mayfield Warnings: No Warnings Tags: No Upside Down, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, POV Alternating, Gay Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Feelings Realization, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Billy & Max Have a Good Relationship, Past Mungrove hinted, Past buckleway hinted, the Byers never moved to California, Getting Together, First Kiss Words: 13,557

Summary: Billy’s presence had become comforting. Having someone to talk to who was here seemingly from their own will, even if not entirely, made Steve feel less lonely. At least he wouldn’t leave. Even if they agreed to disagree on many things, Billy found Steve’s lousy jokes funny and was sharp as hell. Steve just had started then pay attention to things he’d never had before. When the light at the bar hit Billy’s hair just the right way, it created a bright halo around his head. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned widely, his tongue stuck between his teeth, the way his laugher rang loud and bright…

And in this special purgatory Steve had spent the last few months.

Read on AO3 >>

::::::::::

The snow fell in lazy flakes outside Family Video, each one a tiny reminder of the winter that had gripped Hawkins early this year. Steve leaned against the counter, drumming his fingers on the scratched Formica surface, tracking the descent of one particularly large snowflake with his gaze.

The bell above the door chimed, jolting Steve from his reverie. Mrs. Thompson, a blonde, well-shaped woman, walked in. Like she always did on a Friday.

And like every time, Steve plastered on his most charming smile. “Mrs. T, come in to get your weekly rom-com fix?”

Mrs. Thompson chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, you know me too well, Steve. But I think I’ll shake things up this time. Got anything new?”

“Well, let’s see what we can find for you. Action? Romance? How about a little of both?”

Steve had repeated those words way too many times to his own liking. For years, even. At twenty-three, he was still stuck in this stupid job and this stupid town where everything seemed to stay all the same.

After graduating, he had applied to colleges, but none of them had accepted him. So, he’d kept this job, thinking it was just temporary. Thinking something better would come up, maybe a job in Indianapolis or Chicago. But it never had happened, he never really went looking, and here he was, still in Hawkins and at the same dead-end job.

All his friends had moved away to study and the only ones left were the kids who also were now old enough to graduate next year. Then everyone would be gone, and he’d still be here, in this town, alone.

Well, except for Billy. Yeah, him. They’d turned from rivals to…acquaintances over an incident.

+++

Steve had seen Billy with the brunette many, many times. She was gorgeous, of course. It was always the gorgeous ones who attracted each other. And the way she and Billy seemed to be glued from the hip year after year made Steve sure they’d get married and have two kids, a picket fence, and a golden retriever.

But then Steve went to the men’s bathroom at Hideaway one Saturday night. He heard the very distinct noises of an intimate encounter from one stall and decided to be quick about his business.

Now, in a bar bathroom, there are two rules; you don’t try to get a peek at what others are packing, and if you hear noises of two consenting adults, you make your own visit quick and let them finish.

So, Steve had been concentrated on his own business and was already hopeful of being able to slip out before the couple would come out.

But just as he turned around to leave, the stall door opened—and the couple turned out to be Billy’s brunette with another woman . Which was a surprise. Though fair, Steve had made a conclusion based on hearing only the orgasm of a woman and not thought of the possibility of that being caused by another one.

When he returned to the bar, he saw them sit down at the booth where Billy was waiting. And it seemed that Billy was totally unfazed. Poor bastard didn’t probably even know.

Steve knew it really was none of his business, but witnessing a guy being cheated first hand made him feel uneasy. If someone had seen Nancy cheating when they’d gone out, he would’ve wanted to be told about it.

Which was why, when he later noticed the women had left, he picked up his beer and walked over to Billy's table. “Hey. Um…I, uh, I saw something earlier and you might want to hear about it.”

Billy cocked his head as he looked up. “What?”

“I saw your gal earlier, in the men’s bathroom.”

Billy snorted. “She’s not my gal.”

Steve looked at him, puzzled. “Huh?”

“Yeah. I assume you saw her in there with…” His voice lowered. “A girl?”

Okay, so Billy knew. Which made Steve’s insides twist even more. He nodded.

Billy took a pull from his cigarette. “Yeah. She’s not my gal.”

“Oh…OH.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Hmm. Right. Because I, uh, I…I always thought…you’re always glued from the hip. Seemed normal to assume that.”

Billy’s smile faltered just for a second before returning to his face. “Well, it’s not good to assume things.”

“Ah…yeah, you’re right. Of course. Sorry,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I’ll go nurse my embarrassment to the bar and leave you alone.”

“Well, the seat is free now since they left.”

The invitation surprised Steve. Billy’s calm demeanor overall surprised him. They hadn’t really even talked after high school and Steve had been happy about it, since Billy had always been as loud and crass as ever.

“But by no means go back and sit at the bar alone if you prefer that,” Billy continued after a moment, a smile tucking the corner of his mouth. “Since it seems to be so hard to decide.”

“Uh, no, I…I’ll stay,” Steve said, feeling stupid. He must’ve frozen from surprise.

The worn leather seat creaked as he sat across from Billy. He didn’t really know what to talk about with him. Cars? Steve knew shit about cars. Movies? Billy came by Family Video almost weekly to rent a movie or two for him and Max. Max . He knew Max. A little.

“So…I heard that Max is applying to college.”

Billy nodded and took a sip from his beer. “Yup. She’s planning on getting out of this town.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Steve said quietly. “She’s got a good chance at scholarships, I guess?”

“Yeah. Though I’m playing it safe. Been saving a little to make sure she can make it.”

Steve’s brows shot up. “You’re helping with her tuitions?”

“If it comes to that, yeah.” Billy raised his eyes from his glass to look at Steve. “Did you assume that I’d stick around in his hellhole just because it’s such a fine place to live in?”

“Uh…” was all Steve could get out of his mouth. He felt mortified for having a foot in his mouth like this. Apparently finding out that Billy wasn’t a total asshole anymore and was generous to that extent had sprained his brain.

Billy chuckled and took another pull of his smoke. “Yeah, turns out there actually is more to me at twenty-two than there was at eighteen. I was surprised too.”

Steve squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m sorry. I’m being such a dick right now.” He looked at Billy. “Can we start over?” He reached his hand over the table. “Hi, I’m Steve Harrington.”

Billy chuckled as he took Steve’s hand and shook it. “Hargrove. Billy.”

+ + +

That night, Steve had stayed at the table for a few more hours. They’d ordered more beer and just talked. Steve had learned that the reason Billy hadn’t taken off to California, like he’d always loudly announced to everyone at school, was that his dad had split to flee tax fraud charges—which was the very same reason that had brought the family to Hawkins in the first place. So, when Max and Susan had been left to their own devices, Billy had let his grip loosen from fulfilling his own dream, at least for a while, gotten a job, and stayed to help them. To help Max .

It seemed that Billy had changed for the better. Even if he wasn’t about to marry the brunette, whose name was Heather, he had a lot of good things going for him in this hellhole .

At least Billy was here by his own choice.

From that onward, whenever they ran into each other, they exchanged a few words. Sat at the same table at the bar, sometimes played some pool—Billy always won.

They weren’t exactly friends, but yeah, they knew of each other.

Steve was drawn back from his reverie, Mrs. Thompson nudging his arm.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh?”

“You went all glassy-eyed there for a minute. Thought you’d faint on me.”

“Uh, right. No, I’m fi—I’m fine.” He ran a hand over his face. “Just a bit tired today. That’s all.” He looked at the shelf of films again, returning to his role as the helpful video store clerk. “How about ‘Romancing the Stone’? Adventure, romance, and Michael Douglas looking ruggedly handsome. Can’t go wrong there.”

Mrs. Thompson giggled, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Oh, you! I’m not sure if my husband would approve.”

“Well, this is for you and not for him, am I right?”

Mrs. Thompson giggled again, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, then nodded enthusiastically.

“Alright, I’ll rang you up on it then.”

As the bell chimed when Mrs. Thompson walked out with her film and silence settled over the store, Steve’s smile faded. He looked back at the window, watching the snow continue its relentless fall. In the reflection, he saw someone who was trapped, yearning for something he couldn’t quite name.

With a sigh, he picked up stack of tapes, put them on the small trolley and walked to the shelves. There were always more movies to organize, more customers to small talk with.

And maybe a chance that Billy might walk through that door and change everything.

Yeah.

Billy, who always came in on Fridays around five pm to pick up a movie for Max and El and one for himself. Billy, whose weekly five-minute visit to Family Video Steve always waited like the moon to rise…

Steve wasn’t sure at which point exactly he’d started to think more of Billy. He’d known for a while now that his interest wasn’t limited to just girls, so the realization itself wasn’t a total surprise. That it was Billy, then again, was.

Billy’s presence had become comforting. Having someone to talk to who was here seemingly from their own will, even if not entirely, made him feel less lonely. At least he wouldn’t leave. Even if they agreed to disagree on many things, and Steve still couldn’t fathom why Billy was so infatuated with his friend Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin. But Billy also found Steve’s lousy jokes funny and was sharp as hell.

He’d just started then pay attention to things he’d never had before. When the light at the bar hit Billy’s hair just the right way, it created a bright halo around his head. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned widely, his tongue stuck between his teeth, the way his laugher rang loud and bright…

And in this special purgatory Steve had spent the last few months.

The door bell chimed again and Steve turned, expecting another customer, but found himself face-to-face with Robin. Her hair was dusted with snow, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

“Hey!” Steve said, setting the tapes down and walked to her, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Didn’t know you were in town!”

“In other words,” Robin said, “you didn’t think I’d come home for Thanksgiving?”

“I didn’t say that,” Steve replied with sheepish a smile.

“Of course I’m home for thanksgiving! Wouldn’t miss the chance to see you on the side.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not entirely forgettable,” Steve chuckled.

“Saw you recommended Mrs. Thompson ‘Romancing the Stone’, Casanova,” she quipped, sidling up to the counter. “You know, there are other movies in this store.”

Steve clutched his chest in mock offense. “You wound me! I’ll have you know ‘Romancing the Stone’ is a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Mrs. Thompson’s appreciation for cinema is what’s got you pushing it so hard,” Robin retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I have you know that I’ve actually given up on that kind of behavior.”

“Oh? You just think of someone special nowadays?”

Steve fidgeted with the hem of his vest. “Maybe.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “Who?” Then she scrunched her nose. “Don’t say it’s one of your hookups. You know what happens with them.”

“Nope, no a hookup. At all. I kind of…know of…know them.”

Robin tilted her head. “Them?”

Steve knew it would turn into a full-blown interrogation until he finally revealed who he was thinking of. Might as well tell her now. “Billy Hargrove,” he sighed, deflated.

The name hung in the air between them, and Steve felt a mix of relief and terror wash over him. He watched Robin’s face carefully, searching for any sign of judgment or disgust.

When she didn’t reply, Steve asked, “Everything alright?”

“Um…yeah. I’m just…why him?”

“Well, we’ve been talking here and there and…you know how it goes.”

Her gaze softened. “You start noticing things and thinking it might actually be nice to know more about them?”

Steve nodded.

“Is he a nice person? I remember him as not much so.”

“He’s saving to help Max get through college.”

Robin looked gobsmacked. “Oh, wow.”

Smile tucked the corner of Steve’s mouth. “That’s what I said.”

“Well, you know how you can find out if they feel the same? You talk to them.”

Steve sighed, leaning against the counter. “He isn’t gay.” He paused. “I think. Besides, I don’t want to ruin our perfectly well-functioning knowing of each other. He’s one of the few good things about this town.”

Steve would’ve wanted to talk more, but the bell above the door chimed, and his heart leapt into his throat. Billy strode in, his hair and shoulders dusted with snow, his eyes scanning the store.

Steve’s palms instantly went clammy, and he straightened up, trying to appear nonchalant. He tried to act cool, fumbling with a stack of returns on the counter as he noticed Robin had vanished from his side as if into thin air. Thanks for the support, Robin.

“Hey, Harrington!” Billy called out, his voice filling the quiet store. “Got any recommendations for a snowy evening?”

Steve’s mind raced, searching for a witty response. “Depends,” he managed, proud that his voice didn’t betray the butterflies in his stomach. “Are we talking ‘National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation ’ kind of night, or more ‘The Shining’ situation?”

Billy laughed, the sound warming Steve from the inside out. Steve couldn’t hold back a smile of his own.

“Man, you really do have a movie for every occasion, don’t you?”

Steve shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s a gift, I suppose.”

As Billy browsed the shelves, Steve’s eyes traced the familiar lines of his profile, the way his jacket clung to his shoulders. He forced himself to look away and busied himself with reorganizing the counter.

“So, how’s the garage?” Steve asked, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

Billy shrugged, picking up a VHS case, reading the description on the back cover. “Same old, same old. You know how it is. Cars break down, we fix ‘em. Day in, day out.”

“Yeah, rinse and repeat,” Steve murmured, a familiar ache settling in his chest. “I know exactly how it is.”

As Billy turned to leave a moment later, ‘Commando’ for him and ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’ for Max tucked under his arm, Steve’s gaze followed him, lingering on the way some of his curls escaped from his messy bun. The bell above the door chimed, a bittersweet sound that seemed to echo Steve’s internal struggle.

“See you around, Harrington,” Billy called over his shoulder, flashing that crooked smile that never failed to make Steve’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, see you,” Steve replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched Billy’s retreating figure through the store window, a familiar longing settling deep in his bones. The urge to call out, to say something—anything—more meaningful than their usual banter clawed at his throat, but the words remained stubbornly lodged there.

As Billy disappeared past the windows, Steve let out a heavy sigh. Robin appeared at the other side of the counter, wrapping her unbelievably long scarf around her neck.

“You left me alone with him!” Steve seethed.

“Well, I couldn’t be sure I could’ve kept myself from saying something.”

“Hey, as if it would go over well if I said anything,” Steve retorted. “‘Oh, hey Billy, by the way, I know we chat here and there. Surprise! I’m into you. Wanna grab a beer?’”

“Well, what if it worked? What if he said ‘Sure, let’s get that beer’?” she asked, shaking her head. “Sometimes I think you’re more afraid of things working out than falling apart.”

Steve turned to her, his brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, this time actually offended.

“Maybe you’ve become so used to being an uncommitted guy that the idea of actually putting yourself out there terrifies you.”

Her words hit Steve like a punch to the gut, and he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, realizing she was right.

He knew he’d become that guy who was good enough for having fun with, but not worth pursuing seriously for. It had become easy, not needing to even think of a future together anymore.

He had become easy.

It disgusted him. He didn’t want to be like that. He wanted to take care of someone and to be cared for. To build a future. But the thought of rejection and destroying a perfectly functional knowing of each other was downright terrifying.

+++

The acrid smell of motor oil and the rhythmic clanking of tools filled the air as Billy slid out from under the rusty Chevy he’d been working on. He wiped his grease-stained hands on a rag, eyeing the car’s undercarriage with a mixture of pride and frustration.

“Hey, Hargrove!” called out Mr. Wilkinson, the garage’s owner. “Mrs. Anderson’s here for her oil change. Think you can handle it?”

Billy nodded, pushing a stray curl away from his face. “No problem, boss. I’ll get right on it.”

When he walked through the door to the waiting area, he saw Mrs. Anderson waiting there. He felt a familiar tightness in his chest. She had been his high school English teacher, and he felt a twinge of embarrassment remembering his younger self’s antics in her class.

“Well, if it isn’t Billy Hargrove,” Mrs. Anderson said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “I hardly recognized you without the attitude.”

Billy forced a smile. “Good to see you, Mrs. A. Oil change, was it?”

She gave Billy the keys, and as he sauntered to the car and drove it in, he found himself grateful for a little small talk and doing the same mechanical work he’d done a thousand times before; hoist the car up, drain the oil, lower the car back down, change the filters, fill the oil, send the client on their way.

It all was a far cry from what he’d been at school, lashing out at anyone who got too close.

“You know, Billy,” Mrs. Anderson said as he returned and gave the keys back to her, “I always knew you had potential. It’s good to see you’ve found your footing.”

Billy felt a warmth spread through his chest, mingled with a twinge of regret. “Thanks, Mrs. A. I appreciate that.”

He returned to the car he had been working on earlier, but his mind was elsewhere. The repeating sounds of work and engines running badly and then well a moment later after fixing the issues echoed the hollow feeling in his chest. The same scenery, the same faces, the same damn routine every since day.

While Mr. Wilkinson had told Billy he was the perfect candidate to take over the garage when he’d retire in a few years’ time and had also begun to train him for the job, it only eased his mood a little. Sure, now he had future prospects, something solid waiting for him in a few years’ time that also guaranteed Max getting her college education for sure.

But it didn’t change the fact that his own life missed something more. Someone. Steve.

God, Steve.

Even after all these years, just thinking about him made Billy’s heart race. He could picture Steve’s easy smile, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the dark eyes that seemed to hold so many secrets.

“Earth to Billy,” a voice called, snapping him out of his reverie. It was Joe, his coworker, waving a wrench at him. “You gonna finish with that rust bucket or just stare into space all day?”

Billy forced a laugh. “Just zoned out for a second.”

But as he walked back under the hoisted car, Billy’s mind wandered again. What would it be like to actually connect with Steve? To tell him how he felt?

“You’re dreaming, Hargrove”, he muttered to himself. Steve’s straight, and even if he wasn’t…this is Hawkins.

Even so, a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder. What if there was a chance for something more?

Billy stared at the chassis, trying to dislodge the thoughts. They’d grown closer since the incident in late August, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that had taken root in his heart; that something was finally happening between them. Something that might make him feel alive in this dead-end town.

The sudden sound of footsteps pulled Billy from his reverie. He tensed, his fingers tightening around the wrench in his hand. The footsteps were hesitant, unfamiliar. Not the confident stride of his boss or the casual gait of a regular customer.

A throat cleared awkwardly behind him. “Uh, excuse me?”

Billy’s breath caught in his throat. He knew that voice. Slowly, he turned to look at the direction of the voice, his eyes widening as they landed on the figure standing by the car.

Harrington stood there, looking as handsome as ever, even in a stupid turtleneck and jeans. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, probably from taking off his woolen hat. His eyes darted around the garage before settling on Billy.

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice a mix of relief and uncertainty. “I think…something’s broken in my car. It keeps this squealing noise and the lights keep flickering from time to time. I was hoping if you could…” His words trailed off. “I’m not sure if it’s serious or not,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the outside.

Billy’s heart raced as he struggled to maintain his composure. He nodded, trying to appear nonchalant despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside him. “Yeah, sure. Maybe the alternator belt is finished. When do the lights flicker?”

As Steve began to explain, Billy found himself captivated by the way Steve’s lips moved, the slight furrow of his brow as he described the car’s symptoms. Billy forced himself to focus on the words, not the speaker, even as his mind screamed at him to say something, anything, to bridge the gap between them.

Instead, he listened silently, nodding at appropriate intervals, all the while wondering if Steve could hear the thundering of his heart in the quiet of the garage.

He wiped his grease-stained hands on a rag, his mind racing as he searched for the right words. “Yeah, I think it’s the belt,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. “I can take a look to make sure.”

Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Billy replied, clearing his throat, desperate to fill the silence. “Uhm, can you drive it in?”

When the car was inside, he opened the hood and looked for the culprit as the engine was running idle.

Steve leaned against a nearby workbench, his posture casual, but the fidgeting of his fingers betraying a hint of nervousness.

Billy couldn’t come up with anything to say, so he leaned further into the motor than was necessary. He already knew what was wrong, but his cheeks were so warm that he knew they were beet red and he just couldn’t get up and face Steve, not yet. Might as well check everything that ever needed checking.

“Yeah, alternator belt is worn, it has to be replaced,” Billy said when he finally felt sure enough to lean back up.

“Oh, okay,” Steve said, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “How long it takes to fix it?”

“It just needs to be replaced. But we don’t have one that fits your car here right now. We don’t serve European cars that often so I have to order it from Chicago. We can have it here by tomorrow afternoon.”

Steve looked mortified. “Do I have to leave it here for the time being?”

Billy shook his head. “No, if you don’t mind the off chance that it snaps off while driving. But if you drive carefully, you should be just fine for a few more days. Bring it in the day after tomorrow.”

Steve nodded, still evading Billy’s eyes, his cheeks flushed.

A sudden thought hit Billy. What if Steve…What. If?

“Yeah, uh, I’ll bring it in then. I’ll ask a ride back from Dustin. He can pay back a little for the driving lessons that way,” Steve said as he took the keys from Billy.

Their hands brushed slightly together at the exchange, and both of them stopped for a moment, making the air between them charged.

Then Steve moved his hand and turned to get into the car, breaking the moment.

Billy opened the garage door for Steve to reverse out. He followed the BMW with his gaze until it turned the corner and vanished between buildings.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he pressed the button to close the door.

He got back to work on the Chevy and walked under it to continue where he left off. But he couldn’t shake the electricity that had gone through him when their hands had touched and the way Steve had seemed nervous. Had there been a flicker of something more? Or was he just dreaming?

Billy sighed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand and leaving a streak of grease. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. Steve was straight, probably uninterested, and completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing in his heart.

+++

The fluorescent lights of Family Video cast an eerie glow over the faded movie posters lining the walls. Steve sighed, drumming his fingers on the worn counter as he watched the clock tick by with agonizing slowness.

Another day, another shift in this dead-end job.

“Excuse me, do you have any new releases?” a middle-aged woman approached, interrupting his brooding.

Steve plastered on his best customer service smile. “Sure thing. What are you looking for?”

As he guided her through the new releases section and then rang her up, Steve’s mind wandered. Is this really all there is? Recommending movies to people living vicariously through a screen while my own life passes me by?

“Thanks for your help,” the woman said, jolting Steve back to reality.

“No problem. Enjoy your movie night,” he replied automatically, already feeling the familiar restlessness creeping back in.

The bell above the door chimed, and Dustin, Mike, and Lucas strolled in, laughing and shoving each other playfully.

Dustin walked to the counter and tilted his head, squinting. “You’re brooding again. Tell me it isn’t the you-know-who.”

Steve shook his head, trying to dispel the melancholy thoughts. “Just thinking that next year this time, you’re all somewhere else. And I’ll still be here.”

“You know, that’s entirely your own choice,” Dustin said. “You could leave anytime you want.”

“I guess,” Steve replied. Dustin was the last person he wanted to infect with his misery, so he changed the subject. “Die Hard is coming out on VHS just before Christmas.”

“It doesn’t make it a Christmas film!” Lucas shouted from somewhere between aisles.

“It literally takes place on Christmas,” Dustin shouted back. “How much more Christmas can a film get?”

Steve listened to the familiar bickering between the teenagers with a twinge of envy. To be that carefree again, with the entire world ahead of you…

Focus on the positives , he told himself. At least you have a job. At least you have a roof over your head. But the pep talk rang hollow, doing little to ease the gnawing sense of being stuck.

As his shift finally ended and Sarah, the new girl, took over, Steve grabbed his jacket and headed out into the chilly evening air.

On impulse, he decided to go to Hideaway for a beer or two. It was Saturday, and he didn’t have a shift tomorrow—and besides, he’d just sit in front of the TV the whole evening and fall asleep on the worn couch and then wake up at two am to an aching back.

And especially he didn’t hope that Billy was also at the bar. Nu-uh.

The familiar creak of the Hideaway door announced his arrival, and the warm, smoky atmosphere of the bar enveloped him. Dim lights cast long shadows across the worn wooden floor, and the low hum of conversation mingled with the soft strains of classic rock from the jukebox.

Steve’s eyes scanned the room, his heart rate picking up when he spotted Billy in a booth at the back of the bar. His shoulders were hunched over a beer, his long hair tied back in its usual messy bun.

Steeling himself, Steve approached. “Hey, man,” he said, sitting across from Billy. “How’s it going?”

Billy raised his gaze, his piercing blue eyes meeting Steve’s. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. How’s the car?”

“Yeah, I, uh…the car’s fine. Thanks for that.” Steve signaled the bartender for a drink. “So, what’s your excuse for being here? You got nothing else to do on a Saturday night?”

“Nah. Could’ve gone to Indianapolis. But didn’t. You could do that too.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Wouldn’t want to spend money on a hotel though. Couldn’t make it home after a binge in a bar. Here I can walk home if it comes to that.”

“I thought you still lived in that mansion in Loch Nora. With the beemer and all.”

“Nope. Wanted to get away from that empty house. I guess my folks are selling it, moving to Chicago full time.”

Billy nodded and lighted a smoke. He offered one to Steve, but Steve just shook his head.

After a while of silence, Steve continued. “Yeah, they’re leaving and I’ll still be stuck here.”

Billy nodded, taking a swig of his beer. “Hawkins’s got a way of making you feel trapped, doesn’t it? Like you’re stuck in quicksand, and the more you struggle, the deeper you sink.”

Steve felt a surge of connection, realizing Billy understood exactly how he felt. “Exactly. It’s like…I had all these dreams, you know? Things I wanted to do, places I wanted to see. But now I’m here, working at the video store, and it’s like time’s just…stopped.”

Billy leaned in, his voice low. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I look around the garage and wonder if this is all there is. If I’ll be changing oil and fixing transmissions for the rest of my life.”

“What would you do?” Steve asked, genuinely curious. “If you could do anything, go anywhere?”

Billy’s eyes lit up, a rare genuine smile spreading across his face. “I used to dream about California. But now…I’ve always wanted to restore classic cars. Not just fix them, but really bring them back to life, you know? There’s this shop in Chicago that specializes in it. Sometimes I dream about apprenticing there.”

Steve nodded, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. “That sounds amazing. You’d probably be great at that.”

His heart skipped a beat as Billy’s smile lingered, the warmth of their conversation settling around them like a comfortable blanket. He found himself studying Billy’s face, noticing the long lashes that spread like a shadow over his cheeks as he looked down at his beer, the slight stubble along his jawline catching the dim bar light.

“What?” Billy asked, his grin fading to a look of confusion.

Steve quickly averted his gaze, heat rising to his cheeks. “Nothing, just…thinking.”

But his mind was racing. When had Billy become more yo him than just the bully from high school? When had his presence started to make his palms sweat and pulse quicken?

Billy shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on the tabletop. “So, uh, you want another beer?”

“Sure,” Steve replied, grateful for the distraction.

As Billy made his way to the bar, Steve couldn’t help but watch him go. The way Billy moved, confident yet somehow guarded, stirred something in Steve he wasn’t sure how to handle.

“Get it together,” Steve muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Billy, for crying out loud.”

But that was precisely the problem.

Billy returned, setting a fresh beer in front of Steve. Their fingers brushed as Steve reached for the glass, sending a spark through Steve.

“Thanks,” Steve managed, his voice slightly strained.

Billy nodded, settling back into his seat. He seemed to avoid eye contact, his gaze darting around the bar. “No problem. So, uh, you’ve been seeing anyone lately?”

The question caught Steve off guard. “Me? No, not really. You know how it is in this town.”

Billy’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Yeah, tell me about it. Slim pickings, right?”

Steve laughed, but it felt hollow. How could he explain that the only person he was interested in was sitting right across from him? That the thought of admitting his feelings—of potentially losing their perfectly functional knowing of each other—was paralyzing?

“Right,” Steve agreed, taking a long swig of his beer. “Slim pickings.”

+ + +

Billy felt warmth flowing over him. For the first time, he was talking with Steve about something else than the weather or movies. It felt comforting. Maybe there was something between them. Something more than just… knowing of each other. He’d hoped for it for so long. Hell, he’d settle just for a friendship, if nothing else. Which was probably as good as they’d ever get. Steve being straight and all.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the bar, people loudly greeting someone, and he turned to look. His heart leapt at the sight of the familiar long dark hair—Eddie.

“Holy shit, it’s really him,” Billy said, a grin spreading across his face.

“Who?” Steve asked, frowning, as he turned to look.

“Eddie!” Billy got up. “I’m gonna go say hi.”

Billy walked to Eddie. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said, getting Eddie’s attention.

Eddie’s eyes lit up, that mischievous spark Billy remembered so well dancing in them. “Billy! Man, it’s good to see you!”

They embraced, Billy’s chest tightening with genuine joy. “Welcome back, you crazy bastard. How long’s it been?”

“Too damn long,” Eddie laughed. “LA wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Figured I’d come home, see what trouble I can stir up here.”

+++

As they caught up, Steve watched from the table, his stomach churning. Seeing Eddie’s arm slung easily around Billy’s shoulders sent a jolt of jealousy through him.

So, they used to be friends. No big deal.

But it felt like a big deal. Steve’s eyes lingered on Billy’s animated face, the way he laughed at something Eddie said. A familiar ache bloomed in Steve’s chest, one he’d been trying to ignore for months.

Billy got Eddie a beer and lead them to the booth where Steve was waiting.

Steve plastered on a smile, willing himself to make space in the booth. “Eddie, man, welcome back,” he said, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt.

Eddie’s grin was easy, genuine. “Steve! Good to see you. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know,” Steve shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Same old Hawkins. Nothing new.”

“You still work at the video store?” Eddie asked as he sat next to Steve.

“Yeah, still sorting tapes for a living.”

“Hey, that’s a respectable job. Unless like a guitarist who turns out to be only good for serving drinks to the real rockstars.”

As Eddie launched into a story about his time in LA, Steve found his gaze drawn to Billy. The way Billy’s eyes sparkled as he listened, the curl of his lips as he smiled—it was like a punch to the gut.

They look way too comfortable with each other. What if they were…

He shook his head, trying to focus on Eddie’s words. It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter , Steve told himself firmly. Friends. That’s all.

But as Billy’s laughter echoed at the booth, Steve couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

Suddenly, he felt like he was suffocating.

+++

Billy’s brow furrowed as he observed the shift in Steve’s demeanor. The nervous energy from earlier had transformed into something more guarded, almost defensive.

Steve’s gaze darted between him and Eddie, a flicker of something—uncertainty? Jealousy?—in his eyes.

“Everything okay?” Billy asked Steve softly, confusion and concern mingling in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Eddie’s arrival had disrupted more than just their conversation.

Steve nodded stiffly, his earlier warmth replaced by a forced smile. “Yeah, fine. I should probably get going, actually. Thanks for the beers, Billy.”

As Steve got up to leave, Billy felt a pang of disappointment. What had just happened? The connection he’d felt just moments ago seemed to slip away, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As Steve made his way towards the door, Billy shouted after him, making Steve turn to look at him. “We’re going to grab something to eat tomorrow. You’re welcome to join us,” Billy offered, hoping to ease the tension.

Eddie looked at Billy for a moment, surprised. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, a conflicted expression crossing his face. “Oh, I…I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he stammered.

Billy felt a twinge in his chest, torn between his friendship with Eddie and his desire to connect with Steve. He watched as Steve’s gaze darted between them, a mix of confusion and something that looked almost like hurt in his eyes.

“It’s no intrusion, man,” Eddie chimed in, oblivious to the undercurrents. “The more the merrier, right?”

Billy nodded, trying to catch Steve’s eye. “Absolutely. What do you say?”

Steve’s internal struggle was evident in the way he hesitated, his facade cracking to reveal the uncertainty beneath. “I…I should probably get going. Thanks for the offer, though,” he said, his voice strained as he turned and left the bar.

After Steve was gone and Billy sat back to the couch, Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay, man?”

Billy nodded absently, his eyes still fixed on the door. “Yeah, ’s fine,” he mumbled, though his chest felt tight with disappointment.

+++

The string of lights tangled in Steve’s fingers as he stretched to reach the far corner of the ceiling. His arms ached from the repetitive motion, but his mind barely registered the discomfort.

Instead, it replayed the scenes from the last few weeks since Eddie’s return over and over like a broken record.

Billy’s easy laugh. Eddie’s hand on Billy’s shoulder. The easy banter between the two. Billy laughing at Eddie’s stupid jokes. Eddie grinning widely every time Billy jabbed at him. The way they seemed to suddenly do everything together.

It was infuriating.

“Shit,” he muttered as a bulb slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor of the store. He sighed, descending the ladder with careful steps.

What did it mean? The question gnawed at him, refusing to be silenced. Were they really…? No, he couldn’t let himself go down that path.

As he bent to retrieve the fallen bulb, Steve caught sight of his reflection in the store’s front window. The furrow etched between his brows made him look older, more careworn. He barely recognized himself.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, shaking his head as if he could physically dislodge the doubts clouding his mind. But Billy’s face lingered, his eyes seeming to see right through him.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “You’re reading too much into things,” he said aloud, his voice echoing in the empty store.

But even as he spoke the words, they rang hollow.

The bell above the door jingled, breaking Steve’s reverie. He turned to see Robin bustling in, her arms laden with a cardboard box overflowing with glittering ornaments.

“Well, don’t you look festive,” she quipped, eyeing Steve’s lackluster expression. “Did Santa put coal in your stocking already?”

Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Hey, I’m working on it. Rome wasn’t decorated in a day, you know.”

“Clearly,” she retorted, setting the box down with a theatrical huff. “Good thing I’m here to rescue your Christmas and not Kevin—who apparently got sick on a Saturday morning. Again. What a surprise. Hand me those tinsel garlands, Scrooge.”

“I was just about to ask, how come you’re here? Your lectures ended already for this year.”

“Yup,” she said, popping the p. “Thought that I’d might as well come home early and to check on you, how you’re doing without my help. Poorly, I see.”

As they worked side by side, draping tinsel and hanging baubles, Steve felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Robin’s presence was a welcome distraction, her sarcastic comments and playful jabs pulling him out of his own head.

“So,” she ventured. “Any luck with Hargrove yet?”

Steve paused, a red ornament dangling from his finger. “No,” he replied quietly.

Robin’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying Steve’s face. “Out with it.”

Steve sighed, fiddling with a strand of lights. “It’s nothing, really. I just…I don’t know. Things have been weird lately. With Billy, I mean.”

Robin’s expression softened, the sarcasm fading from her voice. “Weird how?”

As Steve stumbled through an explanation, he couldn’t help but notice the way Robin listened, her usual quips giving way to genuine concern. It struck him then how lucky he was to have her as a friend. He ended his explanation with, “Eddie came back.”

Robin looked at Steve expectantly. “The rockstar-Eddie? So?”

“Well, they’re close and…Billy’s been spending a lot of time with him.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Weren’t they glued to the hip already back in high school?”

“I guess,” Steve muttered, fiddling with the garland he was holding. “But it could’ve been because, you know…”

“So, you’re still not doing anything about it? Just brooding alone instead of, you know, asking like a normal person?”

Steve’s stomach twisted. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Sure you can,” Robin cut him off, her voice softening. “Look, I know it’s scary. But if you don’t ask, the answer is always no.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve muttered.

Robin pondered for a while. “Hey, isn’t the traditional Byers-Hopper Christmas Dinner again on next Saturday?”

Steve glanced at her. “Yeah. What of it?” His eyes widened. “You think they’ve invited Billy?”

“Well, Max is always there, isn’t she? Is it such a stretch that he might be tagging along?”

“He’ll probably come with Eddie, anyway. It wouldn’t work.”

“What then if he comes with Eddie? You don’t know for certain they’re together, right?”

“Well, it isn’t the kind of thing you advertise in this town now, is it?” Steve retorted.

Robin stared at him for a moment. “Yeah, as if I didn’t know, dumbass.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it like that.”

“You don’t have to say the words, not immediately. Just…get him a present and give it to him. Let him know you’ve been thinking of him.”

Steve nodded. It actually wasn’t a bad idea. “But I don’t know what he likes.”

Robin hummed and pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “Well, what a guy who works with cars likes?”

“Uh, cars?”

“U-huh. And what particular car?”

“…His own?”

“Bingo!”

Steve pondered the idea for a moment. “Huh. Okay. I can work with that, I guess.”

+ + +

Billy’s mind whirled as he drove through the snow-covered streets of Hawkins and towards Family Video to rent a few films with Max. His chest felt tight, constricted by pent-up longing and fear.

He hadn’t seen Steve for a while and it was bothering him. Which was why they were on their way to the store, renting a film for Max as a prize from good grades as the excuse. And Max herself as a shield.

He probably doesn’t even like guys, he repeated his age-old reasoning like a broken record.

As they parked in front of the store, its neon sign bright in the gray afternoon light, Billy took a deep breath, steeling himself.

The bell above the door jingled as Max stepped inside in front of him, the familiar scent of popcorn and musty carpet washing over them. His eyes scanned the aisles, heart racing as he searched for a glimpse of dark hair.

“You gonna stand there all day, or are we actually renting something?” Max’s voice cut through his thoughts, startling him.

Billy blinked, realizing he’d been frozen in the doorway. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he grumbled, following her inside. With each step, he felt a mix of anticipation and dread building in his chest, unsure if he was more afraid of seeing Steve than not seeing him at all.

“What’s with you, anyway?” Max asked as she scanned through the new releases shelf. “You didn’t call me shitbird even once while we were driving here.”

Billy chuckled. “Yeah, sorry, shitbird. Happy?”

Max snorted. “So what’s it gonna be today? Another shirtless hero?” she teased, elbowing Billy in the ribs as they meandered down the aisle.

Billy scoffed, but a faint blush crept up his neck. “Shut up, Max. I’m not the one who cried during ‘The Officer and A Gentleman’ last week.”

“Hey, that was a beautiful story!” Max retorted, her voice rising in mock indignation. “Besides, I seem to recall someone getting misty-eyed during—”

“Alright, alright,” Billy cut her off, rolling his eyes but unable to suppress a grin. “Let’s just pick something and get out of here.”

After picking up ‘National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation’ they made their way to the counter, and Billy’s heart leapt into his throat. Steve had appeared behind the counter, his hair slightly tousled as he organized the tapes on the counter.

Billy froze, his palms suddenly sweaty. The sight of Steve, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights, made his knees weak. He struggled to maintain his composure, forcing himself to breathe normally.

“Earth to Billy,” Max whispered, nudging him. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Billy swallowed hard, his eyes still fixed on Steve. “’m fine,” he muttered, willing his racing heart to slow down. His legs felt like lead as he approached the counter. Steve looked up, his eyes meeting Billy’s, and a flicker of…something—Billy couldn’t exactly tell what—passed over his face.

“Oh, you went with a classic!” Steve said, taking the tape from Max. “Go easy on popcorn with this. It’s guaranteed to make your stomach hurt just from laughing.”

“So…how’s work been?” Billy asked, desperately searching for something to say.

“Same old, same old,” Steve replied with a shrug, his casual demeanor both alluring and frustrating to Billy.

“Haven’t seen you around for a bit.”

The polite smile on Steve’s face faltered as he rang up the film. “Yeah, been busy.”

“U-huh? Well, just so you know…” Billy started and paused. “Hideaway isn’t quite the same without you.”

Steve gave the tape to Max and looked at Billy—actually blushing. “Is that so?” he asked quietly.

Billy nodded, not sure his voice would carry.

Steve smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe I’ll stop by.”

Max interrupted them. “Hey, are we going or what?” she shouted from the door.

“Uh, yeah.” He glanced at Steve before walking away. “See you.”

Max was waiting by the door, her eyebrows raised curiously. As they sat in the truck Billy drove in the winters—he’d learned not to take the Camaro on the icy roads—she looked at Billy. “What the actual hell was that?”

Billy started the car and put it in reverse. “It’s called none of your business, shitbird.”

As he backed the truck out from the spot, making the car swirl slightly on the ice despite it having winter tires, she kept grinning. “Oh, this is so, so good!”

Billy felt his cheeks burning as he stepped on the gas and the car lurched ahead. “You know shit!”

“You’re crushing on him! Even a blind person can see that.”

“Shut up, Max. It’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Max scoffed. “I could practically see the hearts in your eyes from across the store. You’ve got it bad.”

“I said drop it,” Billy growled, but there was no real heat behind his words.

“You know, you could just ask him out,” she said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Billy’s mind immediately supplied a dozen worst-case scenarios, each more mortifying than the last. “You don’t get it,” he sighed. “It’s complicated.”

After he’d dropped Max off at her trailer, Billy drove to his own and slumped onto his bed, the springs creaking under his weight. He ran a hand through his hair, loosening it from its bun. Max’s words echoed in his mind: What’s the worst that could happen?

He sighed, staring at the ceiling. “So many things,” he muttered to the empty room.

Rolling onto his side, Billy caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His eyes stared back, filled with a mixture of longing and fear. How hard can it be to talk to someone you already know?

But Steve wasn’t just someone. He was the culmination of years of hidden feelings, of stolen glances in high school hallways, of dreams Billy had barely allowed himself to acknowledge.

What if the reason he hadn’t come to the Hideaway lately because he had found someon…?

Billy couldn’t finish the thought. The possibility of losing even the fantasy of a relationship with Steve was paralyzing.

+ + +

The neon Budweiser sign cast a soft red glow across Billy’s face as he hunched over the bar, nursing his fourth whiskey of the night. Familiar sounds of the Hideaway washed over him—raucous laughter from the pool tables, the clink of glasses, classic rock crackling through ancient speakers.

Billy’s gaze drifted to Eddie behind the bar, his long dark curls falling over his face as he mixed a rare cocktail.

Eddie glanced at him and gestured to Billy’s nearly empty glass. “Another?”

Billy nodded, pushing it forward. As Eddie poured, Billy leaned in closer. The whiskey had loosened something inside him, melting away his usual walls.

“Can I tell you something?” Billy’s voice came out rougher than he intended. His hands trembled slightly as he wrapped them around the fresh drink.

Eddie’s eyes met his, curiosity and concern mingling in their depths. “Of course, man. What’s on your mind?”

Billy took a deep breath, the words he’d kept locked away bubbling up inside him. His heart raced as he searched Eddie’s face, wondering if the concern on it would turn into judgment. He decided to just go for it.

“It’s Steve,” Billy began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s driving me nuts.”

As the confession left his lips, Billy felt a weight lift from his chest. But another emotion quickly took its place—fear. What if Eddie thought he was pathetic? What if word got back to Steve? Billy’s thoughts raced as he awaited Eddie’s response, the din of the bar fading away until all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart.

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly, but his expression remained open and understanding. He leaned in closer, matching Billy’s hushed tone. “You’re still thinking about him, after all this time?”

Billy’s fingers tightened around his glass. “Yeah.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I thought there was something finally happening, but…I don’t know anymore. We got closer over the autumn, but now he’s become distant suddenly.”

Eddie nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Billy’s face. “Yeah, haven’t seen him lately either. You know what happened?”

“He’s been like that since Thanksgiving.”

“Oh,” Eddie said after a while, stretching the word. Then his brows raised. “So, why don’t you go and talk with him? It seems quite obvious what’s going on,” he said softly.

“What do you think is going on?”

Eddie smiled a sad smile. “He’s jealous, man. Of you.”

“Pfft,” Billy scoffed. “As if.”

“No as-ifs,” Eddie said, rubbing his forehead with his hand, frustrated. “Jesus. You’ve pined over him for years and he’s finally warming up to you, only to go incommunicado suddenly when I turn up. Just—please. Talk to the man.”

“Just like that? Where? I can’t tell him that here! Not with dozens of people witnessing it. What if he starts shouting profanities? Calling me names?”

Eddie pondered for a moment. “Do the Byers still organize that Christmas dinner thing?”

“I guess.” Billy furrowed his brow. “You’re suggesting I should do it there?”

“Steve’s still friends with Dustin, right? I can tell Dustin to ask Steve to come. All you need to do is get yourself there somehow.”

“I could ask Max if she’s going,” Billy mused.

“Or if not,” Eddie said with a grin, “you can always just crash the party.”

+ + +

The wind whipped snow against Steve’s face as he pushed through the heavy wooden door of the Hideaway a few nights later. Warmth and the familiar scent of stale beer enveloped them, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light, scanning the familiar faces until he spotted Eddie behind the bar. He made his way over, collapsing onto a worn barstool.

“Rough day?” Eddie asked, already reaching for a bottle.

Steve managed a wry smile. “You could say that. Hit me.”

As Eddie poured, Steve’s mind wandered to Billy—and Eddie. The grab of jealousy around his throat tightened. “So…how’s it going with Billy?” he asked, acting nonchalant.

“Hanging out, listening to music, shooting shit. Why?” Eddie replied, wiping a glass with a towel.

There was something in the way Eddie said the words that made Steve’s stomach churn. He emptied his glass in one swig. “Nothing I guess.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow as he kept on with wiping the glass.

Steve was sure Eddie knew what he was talking about. He tapped the counter with his fingers. “Another one.”

After Eddie had poured the amber liquid into his glass, Steve kept looking at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be headlining stadiums by now?” he asked.

“What can I say?” Eddie smirked. “The bright lights of Hawkins were just too alluring to resist.”

Steve let out a rueful laugh. “Right.”

Eddie suddenly poured himself a drink, too. “Not really supposed to do this, but hell, it’s a slow night, anyway. One doesn’t hurt.” He raised his glass. “To Hawkins?”

Steve hesitated for a moment before clinking his beer against Eddie’s shot glass. “Not that it deserves it, but hey.”

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, Steve loosened up, but never really got to the point that he felt fully comfortable with Eddie. Between serving other clients, while Eddie had talked in abundance about his life in LA—a far cry from the superstardom everyone thought it had been—he had revealed nothing deeper from his and Billy’s relationship.

It was eating Steve alive. Which meant he maybe took a few drinks too much over the evening.

When he asked for yet another drink, Eddie placed a pint of water in front of him. “This first.”

Steve furrowed his brow as he stared at the glass. “You getting all worried about me now?” he slurred.

“Someone’s gotta look after you.”

Eddie went to serve other customers and Steve dutifully sipped the water, feeling his head clearing a bit.

Maybe Eddie wasn’t a bad guy. Maybe he was better for Billy than he would ever be. He was always whining about being stuck, while it admittedly might’ve been a bit of his own making, and now he was moping over losing a guy he never even knew that well.

When Eddie came back, he smiled at the empty water glass in front of Steve. “I can pour you one beer. But then I’ll close your tap.”

“Fair.”

Eddie poured the beer, and after placing it in front of Steve, he leaned his elbows on the counter, lowering his voice. “You okay, man? You seem…I don’t know, like something’s eating you.”

Steve’s eyes snapped back to Eddie’s face, a flicker of panic churning in his stomach. “’m fine,” he said, a little too quickly. “Just…thinking. About stuff.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Eddie prompted gently.

Steve sighed, tracing patterns in the condensation on his glass. “’s complicated. There’s someone…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

A smile tucked the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Someone? You holding out on your bartender? Who’s the lucky lady?”

Steve’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away. “It’s not…I mean, there isn’t…” he stuttered, then took another long drink of his beer. He glanced towards the door, though not sure if it was to get up and run or just to make sure Billy wouldn’t walk in.

Eddie kept looking at him, not pushing him into talking.

Steve couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I think…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “…I’m in love with Billy.”

It felt as if the words had punched the air out of the bar—though Steve wasn’t entirely sure if it was just how he felt.

“How long?” Eddie asked simply, his expression neutral.

Steve shrugged, his fingers fidgeting with the napkin on the side of his glass. “For a while. Since autumn. I guess.”

“Have you told him?” Eddie asked gently.

Steve’s head snapped up. “God, no. I can’t…He’d never…It’s Billy, for Christ’s sake,” Steve said, as if that explained everything. In his mind, it did. “He’s straight. And even if he wasn’t, why would he want me?” The doubt that had been gnawing at Steve for a long time spilled out in a rush. “I’m just…me. Pathetic loser, stuck in this dead-end town, working a job I hate. He deserves better.”

Eddie’s eyes softened with understanding. “Steve, man, you’re selling yourself short. He cares about you.”

Steve stared at Eddie for a moment, not quite believing his words. “Oh, come on, you’re shitting me.” When Eddie’s gaze remained serious, it hit Steve. “Oh shit. You’re serious?”

Eddie’s smile was sad, and Steve wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Yeah, he does.”

Steve shot up from his chair. “I gotta go tell him…”

“Whoa there, Romeo!” Eddie said as he rushed out from behind the bar and guided Steve back to lean on the bar. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

Steve blinked, surprised to find the room swaying slightly. “I’m fine, I can drive,” he protested weakly, fumbling for his keys.

Eddie’s hand closed over Steve’s, prying the keys out of it gently but firmly. “Not a chance, man. Come on, I’m not working alone tonight. I’ll clock out early and take you home.”

Steve wanted to argue, but the words felt thick in his mouth. He allowed Eddie to guide him off the barstool, his legs wobbling beneath him.

Eddie steadied him, throwing Steve’s arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

The cool night air hit Steve��s face as they stumbled out of the Hideaway. Eddie maneuvered him into the passenger seat of his beat-up truck, the metal band stickers on the dashboard blurring in Steve’s vision.

“Eddie,” Steve mumbled as they drove, streetlights flashing by. “What if…what if I mess everything up?”

Eddie’s eyes stayed on the road, but his voice was gentle. “You won’t, man. Just…talk to him when you’re sober, okay? Be honest.”

Steve’s head lolled against the window, the glass cool against his flushed skin. “Yeah…okay,” he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy.

+ + +

The morning sun stabbed through Steve’s eyelids like a thousand tiny daggers. He groaned, rolling over in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. His head throbbed, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, pulling the pillow from under his head and over his face to block the sunlight.

He stayed like that for a moment until the headache became unbearable. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he looked around the room—and realized he was in his own bed.

Good, at least he’d made it home. He had no recollection of leaving the bar, though. Had he driven home or walked? No idea.

“Christ…” he sat up slowly, wincing at the hammering in his skull. The world immediately started swaying, and he had to close his eyes.

His head was killing him. It was bad enough that he had drank this much. And that since it was a weekday—was it? Or not?—he probably had a shift in the afternoon.

“Fucking idiot,” he chided himself as he carefully got up and found the wall to support him on his slow shuffle towards the bathroom.

He splashed cold water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. It reflected his disheveled appearance, pale face with dark circles under his eyes. He turned on the shower and took off his jeans. At least he’d managed to get his shirt and shoes off when coming home. Which was probably an achievement as itself, considering.

Under the warm stream of water, he tried to remember what had happened last night. He remembered going into the bar with the intention of trying to coax information out of Eddie about his and Billy’s relationship. Great idea but incredibly bad execution—he had no recollection whatsoever about what he’d learned, or if he’d learned anything.

So, basically, he was back in square one.

He probably had no choice but to go with Robin’s plan; get the miniature model of the Camaro and give it to Billy at Christmas.

+++

Billy’s reflection stared back at him, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling in his eyes. He adjusted the collar of his red shirt for the tenth time, the curl over his right eye—again.

He hadn’t been this nervous about anything relating to things of the heart for a long time. Not since…well, when he’d asked Eddie to stay—and Eddie had chosen LA over him.

He lit a smoke. He’d tried to go without today, but this was too much. His hands needed something to do.

“So, hey, Steve,” he practiced, wincing at the awkward tremor in his voice. “No, too casual,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Steve, I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

His heart raced as he imagined Steve’s eyes fixed on him, waiting for the words he’d held back for so long. He took a pull from his smoke, squaring his shoulders and jumping a little to loosen himself.

“You can do this,” he told his reflection, trying to channel the confidence he usually wore like armor. But as he gazed at himself, he saw past the tough exterior all the way inside to the soft center. “Don’t screw this up,” he whispered.

He looked at the small box that was waiting on the bedside table. He’d spend hours on trying to think of something Steve would’ve liked and even tried to gouge some ideas out of Max. She hadn’t really been helpful, just had kept teasing him about his crush. But at least she had promised to keep it to herself for now.

He just hoped Steve would like the gift he’d come up with. And the reason why.

With one last glance in the mirror, he grabbed the present, his new thick leather jacket and keys, heading out into the snowy night.

Max pulled the door of the truck open and hopped in. “How in the hell is it this cold in here? Even mom’s car has a heater.”

“Hey! It’s not the warmest, but gets the job done,” Billy said. “Don’t remember you complaining whenever you needed a lift to Lucas’ place,” he said with a lilt.

Max glared at him before she noticed the present in the nook between the dashboard and the windshield. She reached out to take it. “What’s this?”

Billy slapped her hand away. “You weren’t any help picking it, so you’ll learn when everyone else does.” He paused. “Unless Steve thinks it sucks,” he added quietly.

Max glanced at him. “Hey, I’m sure Steve likes it, whatever it is.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. He’s great. Like, seriously great.”

“Yeah, he is.”

Warm light glowed from every single window of the Byers-Hopper’s house. Christmas music drifted through the door as they approached, snow crunching underneath their boots.

Max rang the doorbell and glanced at Billy. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Just be yourself.”

Joyce opened the door. “Hi Max! And Billy! My goodness, I haven’t seen you in ages. Come on in!”

The party was in full swing, the living room packed with familiar faces. Garlands and twinkling lights adorned every surface, casting a festive glow over the gathering.

Max vanished somewhere in the house with El, and Billy was left alone in the doorway to the living room. He scanned the room, searching for a sign of Steve. His heart sank as he realized he wasn’t there.

Would he turn up? Steve was friends with the curly haired nerd who was also Lucas’ friend. It would make sense that he’d be invited as well. Maybe he just hadn’t yet arrived.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice calling out to him. “Hey, tough guy!”

Eddie appeared through the crowd, his trademark grin in place as he pushed a red plastic cup into Billy’s hand.

“Thanks,” Billy said, lifting the cup to his nose and sniffing cautiously. “What’s in this?”

Eddie’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Just a little Christmas magic. Trust me, you look like you could use it.”

Billy took a sip, the warmth of whiskey spreading through his chest. He eyed Eddie suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie leaned in, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “You’re here for a reason and it ain’t the eggnog.”

Billy’s brow furrowed as he processed Eddie’s words, knowing well this was all Eddie’s idea. “I…I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled, his carefully constructed confidence crumbling.

Eddie just shook his head, his smile softening. “Sure you don’t.”

+ + +

Steve’s fingers tightened around the gift-wrapped box as he stood on the Byers-Hopper’s snow-dusted front door with Robin, their breaths forming small clouds in the frigid air. The muffled sounds of laughter and music drifted through the closed door, each note amplifying the nervous energy coursing through his body.

“You know, if you squeeze that present any harder, you might just turn it into a diamond,” Robin quipped, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Steve let out a shaky laugh. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Only to someone who knows you,” Robin replied, nudging him with her elbow. “Relax. It’s just Billy.”

Just Billy.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Right. Just Billy. The guy I’m about to confess my feelings to. No big deal,” he muttered, his attempt at sarcasm falling flat.

Robin’s expression softened. “Hey, you’ve got this. And if it all goes south, I’ve got a pint of Rocky Road with your name on it back home.”

Steve managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

With one last encouraging nod from Robin, Steve reached out and rang the doorbell. The chimes barely faded before the door swung open, bathing them in warm light and the scent of cinnamon and pine.

After leaving their coats in the hall, they stepped into the living room—and Steve’s senses were immediately overwhelmed.

The room had been transformed into a winter wonderland; twinkling lights cast a soft glow over the sea of familiar faces, and in the corner stood a towering Christmas tree, its ornaments glinting like stars.

Steve’s eyes, however, were drawn to a single point across the room. There, leaning against the far wall with a drink in hand, stood Billy. His hair was open, cascading over his shoulders as a wavy waterfall, the trademark curl hanging over his eye.

And then there was…Eddie.

Billy was laughing at something he had said, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Steve’s heart skip a beat.

The two of them looked so at ease, so comfortable in each other’s presence.

Steve hesitated, then turned away and sauntered towards the kitchen, stopping to lean to the railing of the second floor staircase.

Max’s voice carried over from upstairs. “…Billy’s been talking about him non-stop. I really hope they hit it off so that I wouldn’t have to listen to it anymore.”

A giggle of two girls followed.

Steve froze. His heart, which had been racing with anticipation, now felt like it was plummeting into his stomach.

“They really deserve to be happy,” another girl’s voice—it was probably El—chimed in.

Steve glanced back at Billy, who was laughing at something Eddie had said, his eyes bright and carefree.

I’m such an idiot, Steve thought, his chest constricting. The room suddenly felt too small, too crowded. He needed air.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pushed past Robin and towards the backdoor and the backyard.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Robin asked.

“I need air,” he said as he pushed the door open.

The cold night air hit him like a slap to the face as he walked into the backyard. Steve gripped the railing, his breath coming out in visible puffs. The wrapped gift in his hand felt like a lead weight, a reminder of his misplaced hopes.

What was I even thinking, he thought, staring out into the darkness.

His fingers traced the edges of the gift, remembering the care he’d taken in assembling it. Now, it seemed like a foolish gesture. He leaned heavily against the railing, the cold seeping into his bones, matching the chill that had settled in his heart.

+ + +

Billy’s eyes widened when he noticed the odd girl whom with Steve always hanged out with—Robin, if he remembered right—walking towards him with a determined expression and pointing at him with his finger. Without batting an eye, she invaded his space and pushed the finger on his chest, making him lean into the wall.

“You. Have made. My life. A misery.”

His brows furrowed, annoyance flaring inside him. “Excuse me?” He was sure his tone should’ve made her back up, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on her.

If any, it made her feistier.

She grabbed his arm and pushed him in front of her into the kitchen that was empty at the moment. “I have been listening to him talk about you over and over again for the last few months. I don’t know what happened then, but something changed.” She pointed towards the back door. “Finish it. Today.”

Billy’s jaw clenched, his tough facade cracking slightly. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap,” Robin hissed, her eyes flashing. “He told me about your gal. Takes a beard to know one.”

Billy’s eyes widened. “I still don’t…”

“I know Heather.” The determination on her face faltered. “We were best friends.”

Billy’s mouth hung open. Heather had told him about her first love. Who had been her best friend.

He was utterly lost for words at the revelation, and Robin must’ve realized it since her face softened. “Don’t walk away because you’re scared,” she whispered.

Billy’s shoulders slumped. “What if…”

Robin smiled. “There’s no what-ifs, trust me.” She nodded towards the backdoor. “He’s in there.”

Billy hesitated, his eyes darting towards the door.

Robin gave him a push. “Go.”

+ + +

Billy stepped out into the frigid night, the sudden chill biting through his thin shirt. His breath clouded in front of him as he scanned the backyard, fairy lights twinkling softly against the darkness. Then he saw him—Steve, leaning against the terrace railing, his shoulders hunched against the cold.

Billy’s heart clenched at the sight of Steve’s dejected posture. He approached cautiously. “Hey,” he called softly, his voice barely audible above the muffled sounds of the party inside.

Steve turned at the sound, his eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, hope flickered across his face before being quickly masked by caution. “Hey, Hargrove,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “What are you doing out here?”

Billy stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I, uh…I noticed you were missing from the party.”

Steve’s laugh was hollow. “Yeah, well…needed some air, I guess.”

They stood facing each other, the tension between them almost tangible. Billy’s mind raced, searching for the right words. He’d imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, he felt paralyzed.

“Listen, Steve,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I—”

“It’s fine,” Steve interrupted, his expression guarded. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

Billy frowned, confusion replacing his nervousness. “Get what?”

Steve looked away, his grip tightening on the porch railing. “You and…I overheard Max talking with someone earlier. About…about someone you’re interested in. Eddie. It’s no biggie. Your secret is safe with me.”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat. At the same time, he made a note of having a talk with Max later. “Uh…” he said softly, taking a step closer. “I think you’ve…misunderstood.”

Steve’s eyes snapped back to Billy. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Billy took a deep breath, steeling himself. The cold air nipped at his exposed chest, but he barely noticed. All he could focus on was Steve, standing there, looking both vulnerable and guarded.

“We’re just friends with Eddie.” He looked down at his feet. “Ever since he chose stardom and fame. If you get my drift.”

Steve’s eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise. “Oh.” he breathed, disbelief clear in his voice.

Billy nodded, feeling the bittersweet pang of the past. “Yeah, oh.”

“So, uh,” Steve began, clearing his throat. “This guy she was talking about…”

A small smile tucked the corner of Billy’s mouth. “Not Eddie.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Right.”

Their eyes met, and the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. The tension between them was palpable, crackling like electricity in the air.

Steve’s words cut through it. “I actually have something for you.”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat. “You do?”

Steve nodded, hesitating for a moment before taking the small present that was sitting on the railing next to him and holding it out to Billy.

Billy took it and turned it around. “What is it?”

“Open it and you’ll see.”

Billy unwrapped the box and opened the lid to see a miniature model of a Camaro, an exact replica of his prized possession. The details were perfect, right down to the blue color.

“You seem to be inseparable from that car, so I thought…” Steve said, his voice soft and slightly uncertain. “It’s a stupid toy, I know, but…”

Billy stared at the car, a lump forming in his throat. His eyes widened as he studied it, drinking in every intricate detail of the model. The familiar curves of the body, the tiny white text in the wheels, even the tiny license plate—it was all there.

“Steve, this is…” Billy’s voice trailed off, thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting Steve’s gaze. “It’s incredible. Thank you.”

A warmth bloomed in Billy’s chest, spreading through him like wildfire. Could this mean what he thought it meant? The care and attention Steve had put into this gift—it had to be more than just friendship, right? A glimmer of hope sparked within him, making his heart race.

“I’m glad you like it,” Steve said softly, a shy smile playing at his lips.

Billy cleared his throat, suddenly remembering his own gift. “I, uh…I have something for you too.” He reached into his pocket, fumbling slightly as he pulled out a small object wrapped in tissue paper. He held it out to Steve. “Merry Christmas.”

Steve took the gift and unwrapped it to reveal an intricately carved Zippo lighter. For a moment, he looked confused.

Billy saw the surprised look on Steve’s face. “I know you don’t smoke. It’s, uh…I was thinking that, uh,…if you had a lighter, then…then you could always give me light when I needed it.”

Steve looked up, his dark eyes questioning. Billy felt his resolve wavering under that intense gaze, and he looked down at his feet.

“I’ve been holding onto this for a long time,” Billy said, his words coming out in a rush. “Since high school, actually. I…I’ve, uh, had a crush on you.” His hands were shaking now, and he held the box of the miniature model with his both hands to hide it. “I never thought I had a chance, but after the my gal thing…I don’t know. Something changed.”

He finally dared to look at Steve’s face, bracing himself for rejection. Instead, he saw a mix of emotions flashing across Steve’s features—surprise, confusion, and something else Billy couldn’t quite identify.

+++

Steve was silent for a long moment, processing Billy’s words. His heart was racing, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He’d never imagined Billy harboring these feelings for him, especially not this long. The revelation sent a jolt through him.

“I…” he started, his voice thick with emotion. “Since Eddie came back, I thought you two were…” His eyes met Billy’s, filled with a newfound intensity. “You’re right. Something changed back then. But I was scared, you know? Scared of ruining…whatever we had, scared of what you’d say.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

Billy’s blue gaze met Steve’s dark eyes, and in that moment, the tension that had simmered beneath the surface suddenly crystallized into something tangible, something undeniable.

+++

Billy’s heart thundered in his chest, his tough exterior crumbling in the face of this newfound vulnerability. He saw his own longing reflected in Steve’s eyes, and it took his breath away. “Steve,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I never thought…I mean, I hoped, but…”

Steve nodded, understanding flooding his features. “I know,” he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Me too.”

The world around them seemed to fade away, the falling snow and the chill in the air forgotten. Billy found himself drawn forward, as if pulled by an invisible thread. He moved slowly, giving Steve every opportunity to back away, but he stood his ground, gaze never wavering.

Billy’s hand trembled slightly as he reached up to cup Steve’s cheek. The warmth of his skin against Billy’s palm sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned in, pausing just a breath away from Steve’s lips. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his heart in his throat.

Steve’s response was to close the distance between them, pressing his lips gently against Billy’s. The kiss was tender, almost hesitant at first, but quickly deepened as the pent-up emotion poured out. Billy’s fingers tangled in Steve’s dark hair, pulling him closer, while Steve’s arms wrapped around Billy’s waist, anchoring them together.

As they kissed, Billy’s mind raced. How many nights had he lain awake, alone in his trailer, imagining this very moment? How many times had he watched Steve from afar, certain that his feelings would never be returned?

Now, with Steve’s body pressed against his own, those doubts seemed ridiculous.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting. Billy rested his forehead against Steve’s, unwilling to let go. The cold winter air swirled around them, highlighting the heat building between their bodies.

Steve’s fingers brushed Billy’s back gently. “What do we do now?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

The distant sound of laughter from inside the house filtered into the backyard, reminding them of the world beyond this moment.

Billy took a deep breath, reality slowly seeping back in. “I guess…we should go back,” he said reluctantly. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to go somewhere with Steve. Alone with Steve.

“I don’t want to waste any more time,” Steve said with a soft smile. “Let’s get our coats and go somewhere, just the two of us. We have so much catching up to do. Right?”

A wide smile spread across Billy’s face. “You read my mind.” He marveled at the way Steve blushed at his words. “You know,” he said, his voice low, “I always thought I’d leave this place first chance I got.”

Steve nodded, his fingers still drawing circles on Billy’s back. “And now?”

“I’m starting to think that it was the right choice to stay this long.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, his voice barely audible, “me too.”

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #suometar writes #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #harringrove holiday exchange #hhe2024

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