#Billy Hargrove: Usually a cynic but at this point who knows?!

[platypanthewriter]

Billy Hargrove: Possessed Trash Bandit

For @awickedplacethisis​

Steve was always aware of the motion lights around the swimming pool, after Barb.  He’d stood at the ready menacing maple leaves that had fluttered in front of the sensor, inflicted mutual terror on at least five deer, and the evening a Canada goose landed clumsily on his roof, thudding and scraping as it rolled the entire way down, he nearly batted it into Christmas dinner.  

He was immediately aware when the lurching human being crept from the door to the Upside-Down in the tree by his pool.  

At first he just grabbed his bat, wondering why he didn’t screw a piece of plywood over the hole, or at least wrap the whole tree in duct tape, but he registered a human head, and hair, and—and it wasn’t like the figure was menacing anyone, stumbling around Steve’s pool, finishing off the leftover beers and a half-box of Cheez-its.  He waited until it had shaken the box three times, and pulled out the bag, scraping long broken fingernails inside the Cheez-it box looking for more.  

“Got some cold pizza inside,” he said, from the shadows, and the figure stumbled back, shielding its face.  

“What,” it asked hoarsely, and Steve recognized the voice.  The bat nearly slid from his fingers.

“Hargrove?!”  It—Billy Hargrove, who was supposed to be dead—flinched, and Steve lowered the bat.  “Billy,” Steve tried.  “Let—lemme call someone.  Hopper.  Your sister Max, she thinks you’re dead—”

Billy shook his head violently, holding his hands up, and Steve dropped the bat.  

“Come here,” he said, trying to keep his voice level.  “...come inside,” he whispered, thinking of Max, sitting alone on Billy’s bed in his empty room, and Eleven, who Billy had sacrified himself to save.  “Come get some food.”

Billy lowered his hands, so Steve finally stepped closer, grabbing a thin, dirty hand, cold in his grip.  

“Jesus, Billy, are you even alive?”

Billy lowered his head.  He looked alive, as Steve squinted into the darkness.  His skin was scarred everywhere with dark lines, and his lips and nails were blue, but he was breathing, and he shivered as Steve pressed his fingers under the dangling earring, checking for a pulse.

“Come on, Billy,” Steve tugged him forward.  “Come inside.”

He’d lost weight, but Billy Hargrove was still the guy who’d spent his free time lifting weights, so Steve’s pulling at his wrist wasn’t getting them any closer to the house.  

“I’m going to pick you up if you don’t walk,” he said, finally, and Billy stumbled a couple of steps forward before nearly losing his balance again.  He was barefoot, Steve registered, and pinched the bridge of his nose before bending to sling an arm around Billy’s waist, and haul him over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.  

He plonked him in the kitchen—pushing him into a chair when he swayed alarmingly—and handed over the pizza box to watch Billy fall upon it like a dog that finds something disgusting in the yard and wants to eat as much as possible before you tell it no.  Four slices in, he started to slow down, cold-sweating, pressing his fingers to his mouth, and hunching his shoulders, so Steve slid the pizza box away, pulling the half-eaten piece from Billy’s hand.  He didn’t resist.  

“Jesus,” Steve told him, softening his voice as Billy twitched.  “Don’t make yourself puke.”

 Billy didn’t want hot water—as a shower or bath—and nearly dropped the cider Steve made him, from the instant packets Steve’s boss had tucked in everyone’s locker with one stingy wrap of curling ribbon and no bow.  He turned back from the microwave to see Billy fiddling with the ribbon, frowning vaguely.  

Steve pressed Billy’s bluish fingers around the mug, turning away to frown out the window at the pool, then swung back around at Billy’s hiss as he spilled the cider.  Steve steadied his hands.  “Jesus,” he whispered.  “I’m gonna get you a blanket, at least—” he made it two steps towards the living room, when his shirt slid down over his shoulder, its cuff in Billy’s fist.  

Billy let go, closing his eyes, and Steve stared at him, then rubbed his face, and crouched next to Billy’s chair.  

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.  “You get that?”

Billy didn’t react, but when Steve grabbed the down comforter he’d drug downstairs for when he was too lazy to go to bed, he turned away from the couch and smacked into Billy, standing inches away.  

“Holy shit,” Steve shouted, and Billy flinched again, stumbling away, so Steve grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around him, pulling him back towards the couch.  He shoved his new—roommate?! down onto the couch, tucked the comforter around him, and held up a finger.  “Stay,” he said firmly.  “Stay there.  Gonna get the nail clippers.  Okay?”

The blanket crumpled as Billy clutched at it, but he didn’t reply.  

“Stay,” Steve repeated, running to the bathroom.  When he walked back in the front room, Billy’d slid off the couch.  He was in a pile of comforter between the couch and the coffee table, his eyes darting.

“...Harrington,” he whispered hoarsely.  “Why are you here.  We—we have to go, they—they’ll come back—”

“Jesus,” Steve said, for what felt like the seventieth time.  “You’re back.  You’re in my house, you’re safe.”  He knelt in front of the pile of blanket.

“What do you mean, I’m back,” Billy hissed, reaching out to grab his hand.  “We can’t—we can’t stay here.  I can take you somewhere safer—”

“You’re safe already,” Steve argued, squeezing Billy’s hand, and clipping the nails that were most torn.  

“It’s not safe where there are lights,” Billy tried to stand without letting go of Steve’s hand to push himself up, and didn’t get very far.  “Harrington, you fucking moron, what are you doing here, you have to listen, I know I’m gonna sound crazy—there are monsters here, Harrington,” he shook Steve’s arm, swallowing.  “Monsters worse than me.  They’ll come for you—”

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” Steve gathered him up again, half carrying the Billy-burrito to the wall to switch off the lights.  

“...how did you make the lights go off,” Billy asked, wide-eyed, and almost fell, and Steve put both arms around him.  

“I have magic monster fighting powers,” he told him, trying not to laugh, but Billy’s eyes teared up, and he swallowed hard, grabbing at Steve’s shirt again.  

“Help,” he whispered.  “Please.  I know I’m—I know I’m another monster—”

“I’ll use my magic to protect you,” Steve told him, pushing him back onto the couch.  “You’re safe, Billy.”

“You’re gonna get tired,” Billy whispered, settling in a fluffy lump against him.  “Wake me up before you go, don’t just—don’t fucking leave me here—”

Steve could feel him shaking through the comforter, and he leaned closer.  “I magicked this space safe,” he told Billy, who nodded, taking in a shaky sigh.  He smelled like rusted metal, or possibly blood, and rot.  The dark veins across his cheek and neck didn’t look as dark as they had, out in the snow.

“...I’m not even hungry here,” Billy mumbled, and Steve put an arm around him, squeezing, and wrinkling his nose, as Billy’s voice rumbled under his chin.  “How long can I stay?”

“Oh,” Steve stared at the tangled hair leaning against his shoulder.  “Uh, I need you.  I’m gonna pull you back through a magic doorway while you’re asleep, okay, buddy?”

Billy nodded, closing his eyes again, but grabbed Steve’s hand through the blanket.  “O-okay.  I’ll—whatever you—what do you want me to do?  Can I—” he swallowed.  “How long can you keep me out of here?”

“No,” Steve shook his head, pulling Billy Hargrove, surreally, into a two-armed tight hug.  “No, you’re mine now, okay?  You stay with me, and I’ll use my magic to keep you safe.”

“I can’t use magic,” Billy whispered against Steve’s chest, his eyes fixed on the window, and Steve squeezed him tighter.  

“All you need to do is trust me,” he told him.  “Just trust me,” he whispered against Billy’s nodding head.  

 Steve snuck off to pee either late that night or early the next morning, and returned to find Billy sitting up, looking around.  “You did it,” he laughed shakily.  “You came and got me.  What—what do I need to do?”

“Jesus,” Steve muttered to himself, again.  “How much do you remember?”

“You saved me, because you need me for something,” Billy said, shivering.  He pulled the blanket back up around him, rubbing his arms.  His eyes were clear, and looking around curiously, and Steve bit his lips, uncertain whether to drop the lie yet.  

“Yeah, um...you want a shower?” he asked, cautiously, and Billy groaned.  

“If there’s time, yeah, holy shit.  Can I—can I take one?”

“I’ll get you a towel and sweatsuit,” Steve said, dodging the issue of Billy’s view of reality.  “It’s through there.  You need me to help you walk?”

Billy shook his head, biting his lips.  “If I open that door and you vanish, I’m gonna cry,” he said matter-of-factly.  “You won’t care, if you’re not real, though, will you?”

“I’m real,” Steve told him, pulling him up by one hand.  “Want me to call your sister while you’re in the shower?”

“Shit,” Billy said, and snorted.  “I—” he swallowed, rubbing his face.  “Am—am I going to jail?  I killed those people.  God, I’m not even—they can’t put a monster on trial, they’ll shoot me in the head—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve interrupted Billy’s weirdly calm theorizing.  “I won’t call anybody, we can talk about it later.  Shower first.  Here you go, through here.”  Billy nodded, then made a high noise in his throat as Steve shut the bathroom door between them.

Steve blinked at it, then wrinkled his nose, and asked, “You, uh, you need me in there while you piss, or—”

“No,” Billy laughed.  “No, I’m fine.”  He was still laughing a little, against the door, as Steve walked away, but halfway through rummaging through his drawers, Steve heard him yelling “Harrington!  Steve Harrington!” and ran down to smack the flat of his hand a few times against the door.  

“I’m here, you’re in my house, you’re safe!” he shouted back, and didn’t hear a reply, so he took a deep breath and opened the door on Billy wedged in the corner of the shower, staring at him with wide-dilated eyes.

“Billy,” Steve whispered, and he inhaled sharply.  

“Water’s cold,” he whispered.  “Did you put me back?  Am—am I—” he looked around, his thinner, scarred chest panting with shallow breaths.

“No!  I can’t.  And you’re fine, it just takes forever to heat up.” Steve took a deep breath and shoveled more bullshit onto the lie pile, reaching in to turn off the shower.  “I used most of my magic to bring you out,” he told Billy solemnly, and received a tight nod.  “I—can’t put you back, no matter what you do.  And I, uh, I made a bunch of spells.  Here.  On my house, so that can’t happen.  And me.  And my, uh, Hawkins.  You’re safe.  Super safe.”

“Th-thank you,” Billy let his head lean back against the wall, closing his eyes.

“I’m gonna order us some food,” Steve told him, having checked the time, and found it later than he thought, and Billy started giggling.

“Can’t order takeout in there,” he was mumbling to himself as Steve left.  

 Steve ordered about four extra things to stuff Billy with, then looked around his house.  Billy yelled his name every few minutes, and Steve answered, feeling like he was playing Marco Polo.  The thought of bringing Billy to bed was...weird, so he hauled the air mattress in, and made it up next to his bed, then scrabbled at his hair, and hauled his homework downstairs.  

When Billy came out, his scars and skin pink and healthy, he followed Steve’s gaze and smirked, flexing his biceps.  Steve rolled his eyes and waved at his spread textbooks.  “What I need from you is help with the homework,” he told Billy.  “Max said you were smart.”  

She hadn’t, but Steve didn’t want to imagine what kind of tasks he’d need Billy Hargrove enough to summon him like an evil genie, so they’d just have to stumble through Steve’s calculus.  

“What,” Billy stared at the books and papers.

“Nancy dumped me and it’s weird now,” Steve told him, truthfully enough.  “You can do whatever you want as long as you try to help me, uh, edit this essay.”

“...why would you—”

“It was hard work bringing you back,” Steve just let the bullshit train take him, the feeling familiar from talking to girlfriend’s parents about why his own were always busy.  Handily, waving a magic wand to rescue a dead guy sounded about as likely as finding him half-naked outside, rooting through the trash like a raccoon.  “I fell behind on schoolwork.  Got you out as fast as I could.  So, uh, will you help me?”

“How can you be magic and that shitty at essays,” Billy squinted at him, allowing himself to be pushed into a chair.

“...you were trying to bring me back?” Billy wandered closer.  “...why would you…”

Steve tried to imagine having magic powers, and also derail this from looking too generous.  “You did most of it yourself.  Stayed alive, found the door.”

 When the Chinese food arrived, Billy was standing waaay too close again, and Steve returned to the table and just sat against him, feeling him relax.  “You’re safe,” he said.  It was becoming a habit.  “You’re with me, I’ll keep you safe.  Want an eggroll?”

Billy nodded, watching him, and Steve put his arm around Billy’s waist, rather than squish it between them.  

“...I don’t remember all of this,” Billy said after a while, his tone bleak, and Steve reached up automatically to squeeze his shoulders.  

“We got time,” he said, noticing Billy’s ears and cheeks turning red, and wondering whether it was the heat from the shower, finally circulating everywhere.  “I’ve got you, remember?”

“Yeah,” Billy laughed, quirking his mouth.  “You’ll keep me safe.”

[strangerontheotherside84]

Live Wire Part 1 (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Disclamer: Hey everybody thank you all for your sweet feedback on the teaser for this story. It actually motivated me to finish this quicker than I thought I would. But there isn't anything better to do in quarantine anyway. Hope you'll enjoy!

Note: This will most likely consist of 2 (maybe 3) parts (so let me know if you wanna be tagged in the second part when I upload it)

Warnings: language, underage drinking (at least for now)

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Being Vicki Carmichael's sister clearly was enough of a burden to begin with. Luckily you were almost a year younger and therefore didn't share any classes with her. Most people didn't even know that you were related. And you both made sure to keep it that way.

You ignored each other at school, almost never left the house at the same time and only spend time together when it really had to be or because your parents forced you to. Like tonight.

When it came to your parents, Vicki clearly was their favorite. Or at least the more presentable child. Everything Vicki was interested and engaged in was amazing. Whether it were stupid horses in elementary school or that Cheerleading bullshit she did now. However, your drums had been banned to the basement where you were only allowed to play them when nobody was home and when you got sent to detention for punching a guy that slapped your ass, this suddenly wasn't an achievement they'd tell the neighbours about.

Same thing counted for boys. The guys Vicki dated were always „such nice guys“,yet you didn't even dare to think about introucing any of the guys you'd slept with to your family. But it wasn't like anybody ever asked you to do that anyway. Judging by the Mötley Crüe posters in your room they'd propably rather not know who would enter their precious home in that case.

Vicki's newest addittion to her collection of „nice guys“ had just recently moved to Hawkins and was sitting at the kitchen table across from you right in this moment.

„So Billy, where did you meet Vicki, again?“,your mom tried to fill the awkward silence while all of you pretended that eating dinner together totally was something you did every night.  

This whole Brady Bunch atmosphere, combined with Vicki's stupid giggles made you wanna throw up.

Since your sister seemed to be very busy drooling over her new boyfriend, who clearly had absolutely nothing in common with her, you decided to answer that question for them instead: „Well there would be Tina's Halloween Party, the car, propably that one dumpster behind school and let's not forget the countless times Vicki asked me to make sure to not come home unti-“

„Y/N!“, your mother interrupted you. Oh boy if looks could kill.

„Oh you said meet! Damn I'm sorry. Wonder how I could get that one wrong.“,you chuckled sarcastically, moving your eyes towards Vicki at your last words.

„I think you're done with dinner, honey.“, your dad intervened with a calm but stern voice.

„I think so too.“, you replied with the sweetest smile as you got up from your chair, „Well Billy it was nice meeting you but if you'll excuse me, I'll withdraw myself to the basement where I'll continue to be the dissapointment of the family.“

„Nice to meet you too.“, the boy replied while following you with his piercing eyes. He almost looked like he was very much enjoying the situation.

„Baby you don't have to be nice to her. Just ignore her.“,Vicki chimed in with a voice sweet as sugar, while grabbing his chin and forcing him to kiss her.

„Also it's really nice to finally have a face to match those noises that keep me up at night.“, you quickly added before leaving the room.

„Y/N! Shut up!“

Not as sweet anymore, are we sis?

You could still hear her going on about how much of a loser you were to your parents, as you entered your room. Okay maybe you had been a bit extra snarky today but she deserved it. You didn't ask to join this amazing family event anyway. However,you couldn't stop thinking about what a guy like Billy could see in Vicki. She was a shallow bitch and usually the guys she dated were complete airheads. But this new kid? He seemed different.

However, if you hadn't been that busy trying to make your sisters night as miserable as possible you'd might have realized that Billy had been watching you the whole time. The two of you had met before. A fact that you couldn't possibly admit in front of your parents since it occured about a week ago when they were out of town. Vicki had invited Billy over to watch some movies and basically forced you to stay in your room. However, you obviously hadn't listened to that. You had caught Billy's attention right away, the moment you entered the kitchen, ignoring both of them, while you grabbed a can of beer from the fridge. You had been wearing nothing but a Metallica shirt and some black lace panties underneath.

„Dad's gonna kill you if he finds out you took his beer.“

„He's gonna kill you first if he finds out that you're not staying at Carol's.“

„Shut up, loser! Also put on some clothes you look like a cheap groupie.“

„Try to keep yours on until after I'm back in my room, loser.“

If Billy had met you at school he would have never figured that you were Vicki's younger sister. You really were one of a kind. But getting to know you could be a tough one. You had a sharp tongue and didn't seem like the kind of girl that would fall for his tricks which made you even more interesting.  

____________________________________________________________

„Hey y/n?“

You had to admit you were rather surprised as you looked up and were greeted by the face of Billy. You hadn’t really spoken since you officially met at your house a few weeks ago. And you definitely wouldn’t have expected him to just walk up to you in the schools parking lot like it was nothing.

„Hey boyfriend number 27 of the year. How can I help you? Need a last minute escape plan?“, you greeted him cynically.

You could see that Billy was kinda taken aback by your repartee. However, he quickly regained his composure and chose to ignore your comments. He seemed to be in quite a rush, his dirtly blonde curls falling into his frowning face as he took a pack of Marlboro Reds out of his denim jacket.

„Have you seen a girl? Tiny. Red hair. Bit of a bitch.“, he came straight to the point while lighting a cigarette.

„Yeah, I think Vicki is waiting at your car.“

„Not your sister. I'm looking for my stepsister Max.“

„No idea who that is. Didn't even know you had a sister.“

„Stepsister. And ditto.“

„Well I'd be surprised if Vicki had told you anything about me. We like to keep that unfortunate fact between us. Now if you'll excuse me you're blocking my car door. And we don't wanna let Vicki wait any longer, do we? I'm sure she can't wait to help you with all that homework.“, you commented dry with a nod towards the books he was carrying in his hands.

„This is yours?“, Billy sounded rather surprise as he examined the rusty 1970 Ford Falcon, you could barely tell that it once used to be perfectly shiny grabber green. “Never seen it around your house.“

„That's because my parents make me park it a few blocks away. Wouldn't want the neighbours to see that rust bucket, you know?“

„You do band as an after school activity?“, the curly haired boy chuckled while rasing his eyebrows, propably having spotted the drumsticks lying on your backseat.

„Hell no! Do I look like a fucking virgin?“,you scoffed while raising your eyebrows as well.

„Well... no. I just figured from the stuff Vicki keeps telling me-“

„Well note that: you shouldn't believe most of the bullshit that my sister has to say about me. Speaking of the devil you might not wanna let her wait any longer. Wouldn't want your study session to fall through, right?“

-

You hadn't left school right away. If Vicki and Billy were planning to hook up at your place you'd rather give them some advance. Also, Vicki had her way of making it very clear to you that you’d better stay away from home whenever she had a guy over. And since she had threatened to tell your parents where you hid your booze and other things, you were more than happy to oblige.

You were just driving off the schools parking lot when you spotted a small redhead by the side of the road. She seemed rather distressed, kicking against an old Skateboard.

„Hey kid, is everything alright?“, you asked as you pulled over.

„Uhm yeah...it's just..my stupid brother was suposed to wait for me but he didn't and now I have to skate home.“

„Yeah I know, he drove off with my stupid sister. Get in the car I'll drive you.“

„Really?“

„Yeah sure I don't wanna be at home now anyway.“

„I can imagine. I hate when Billy has girls over. It's like he doesn't even like them. But I still have to stay in my room.”, the girl stated with an eye-roll as she sat down on the passengers seat, ” I'm Max by the way.“

„Nice to meet you. I'm y/n. And just for the record: next time a stranger asks you to get in their car, don't do it!“

„I'm not stupid.“, Max clarified within a heartbeat.

„You're a tough kid, aren't you? I like that.“ you laughed. Her upfront attidude and tomboy-ish apperance reminded you a lot of yourself at that age.

„And I like your car.“

„You do? Well thanks I bought it myself.“

„Yeah it's really cool. They used the same one in Mad Max, you know?“

„'Course I do.“

[lesbianlovelanguage]

hey tay! how about: situation #28, sentence #15, person(people) steve/billy 😊 thank you!

Hi bb!!! Sorry this took forever, it just kind of kept going haha. 

Enjoy! 28. Love Confession and 15. “If you think I don’t have feelings for you, you’re dumber than I though.” (I also added college!au because why not?) 

--

Billy had thought moving to college would have meant freedom from Hawkins, from his dad, from the memories of a certain kiss in the dark. He had packed his camaro and never looked back as he sped out of that shit hole town. It wasn’t until he was unpacking his couple of boxes that it finally hit him. He had done it. He was out.

Then he walked into his second college class, Forensic Science 101, and spotted that damn head of perfectly styled gravity defying hair, and met wide brown eyes. They stared at each other for a whole minute before Steve was tugged away by some spunky looking blonde with a jean jacket that was more patches than denim. 

Billy watched them take a seat towards the front of the hall, and then deliberately made his way to the back. He hoped that this would be the only incident of bumping into an old face, but when had he ever had that much luck? 

The second item listed in the syllabus, written in bold 12 point times new roman, was a group project due at the end of the semester, and the professor just had to announce that they were assigning partners by last name. When the list was projected up Billy could have screamed. 

Of course.

Of fucking course, on his first day of college, when he thought he was finally safe and free from Hawkins and all that came with it, he had to get paired up with King Steve for a fucking semester-long assignment. 

By the end of class, Billy’s pencil was chewed to bits and his anxiety was through the roof. The bell caught him off guard, and as the rest of his classmates were filing out of the hall, he was slowly packing up. It wasn’t until he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder that he saw Harrington waiting at the end of the aisle Billy was in. He looked equally nervous, bottom lip red and puffy from biting it. Billy started thinking about other ways he could make Steve’s lips look like that, thoughts steering to Tina’s graduation party and a shady corner in the backyard. Before he could dig himself too deep of a hole, a soft cough brought him back to reality. 

“So, I guess we’re partners?” Harrington asked hesitantly.

Billy just replied with a grunt and pushed past Harrington to leave the lecture hall. He didn’t have time for Harrington’s ridicule and judgemental looks. But before he could ditch him, Billy felt a hand grab his jacket sleeve and tug him backwards, prompting him to spin around and face Harrington again.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Harrington,” he growled. Harrington dropped his hand as if he had been burned. 

“Jeez, sorry. Who pissed in your cheerios, Hargrove?”

“Piss off.” Billy started walking away again, until Harrington jumped in front of him.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry. We do need to work on this project together though.”

“Yeah? Well we haven’t even gotten an assignment sheet yet,” Billy shrugged. Steve dug into his bag and pulled out a thick packet. 

“Um, hate to be the bearer of bad news Billy boy, but we actually did?”

“Fine. We can figure out some time to meet and go over this stupid project.” 

“Great! I was thinking three times a week? at like 6?”

“Mmm, ‘fraid not Princess. Once a week, on Thursdays, at 7. Meet in the library. Final offer.” 

“Jesus,” Harrington said, “You really haven’t changed. Still the same asshole who’s too good for anyone?”

“No, Princess. Just too good for you,” and with those parting words, Billy pushed past Harrington and snached the packet out of his hands. He heard Harrington squawk in protest, but before he could pull another stunt to stall his departure, Billy was ducking out the door and striding through the quad.

And thus, their schedule was set. Billy successfully avoided Harrinton in the classroom by sneaking in at the last minute and sitting in the very back in order to be one of the first out with the bell. During their study sessions, Billy remained quiet and aloof, responding to all of Harrinton’s questions with biting cynicism and witty insults. He finally stopped trying four weeks in, and now they simply met, put a couple hours into their project, and then left. 

This lasted until the second to last meeting they had. The Thursday after Thanksgiving break found the two boys in the library like every other Thursday of the semester. They were going over every detail, reviewing their conclusions, and finalizing their presentation for next Friday. 

Billy was packing up his stuff, getting ready to go home when he heard Harrington clear his throat.

“Hargrove, wait. I-I uh, I can’t make it next week.” Billy froze.

“Harrington, are you kidding? We present the next day, what the hell?” Billy couldn’t believe it. All semester Harrington had been riding his ass about being on time to their stupid little meet ups, and now he wanted to just ditch it right before the end? 

“I’ve got another commitment,” Harrington said, and Billy noticed his ears were bright red. That’s when it hit him. 

“Oh, I see.” Billy felt a downright nasty smirk take over. “King Steve’s got a date huh? Tell me Stevie, is she another Wheeler bitch, or is she the spunky blonde you’re always with? What’s your type these days Pretty Boy?”

“Fuck off Hargrove. God, why are you such a dick all the time?” Harrington complained, sounding every part the spoiled brat he was. 

“Just part of the charm, Princess.” The smirk only got bigger, started to resemble a sneer with the way his lip curled up and his teeth showed.

‘Never let them see you hurt.’ he thought, feeling jealousy pool in his stomach. 

“So who is it Pretty Boy? Ice queen or punk band reject?” Billy sneered. 

“It-it’s not a date.” 

“Oh, please. You’re redder than a fucking tomatoe. C’mon Harrington, what’s a little gossip between pals?”

“We are not friends,” Harrington growled, finally reaching the end of his patience, “and if you refused to answer my questions after Tina’s party, I don’t see why I have to answer any of yours.” Harrington crossed his arms and pursed his lips.

“What the absolute fuck are you talking about Harrington? You didn’t ask me shit after that night.”“Yeah, because you never let me!” Steve practically shouted. He quieted down after a sharp glare from the pruny old librarian behind the desk. “You practically disappeared after that night.”

“Yeah, because I already knew what you were going to say, and I didn’t need that shit from some bumpkin fuck right before I got to leave that tiny shit town.” Billy leaned forward as he practically spit the last words, getting up into Harrington’s blank face.

“Oh, if you’re so smart, what was I going to say Billy?” Harrington seemed unmoved by Billy’s presence, only scrunching up his nose a little and shifting his shoulders.

“Fuck this. I don’t need your interrogation now. Enjoy your date, and just make sure your fucking essay is finished.” Billy adjusted the strap of his bag, and pushed past Harrington to leave him behind. Unlike their first collegiate interaction, Harrington didn’t follow. Billy made it all the way out of the library and around the corner before having to stop and take a few deep breaths. He didn’t know how, but Harrington had the innate ability to get under Billy’s skin. Ever since that Halloween party, where he gave Billy one glance over and moved on to follow some prissy looking ice princess. 

After some deep breaths, the urge to punch something slowly faded to a simmer, at least enough to make his way back to his dorm. 

Monday came, and with it Forensic Sciences 101. He pulled the usual routine of coming in late, only to find a certain mop of brown hair sitting in his usual seat. Billy made the educated decision to tuck tail and beat it. There wasn’t an attendance policy anyway, skilling wouldn’t hurt.

Using that logic, he also skipped Wednesday’s lecture just to be safe. He decided to use the time to study for another final coming up, and headed to the library. He was deep in the zone, reading about the historical significance of guinea pigs in ancient South American culture when suddenly his textbook was ripped away from him.

He jerked up to see who the thief was. Standing before him was the same blonde that hung around Harrington so often, and she looked pissed.

“Can I help you?” Billy asked, raising an eyebrow and staring her down. She didn’t even flinch as they suddenly ended up in a silent staring match. After a few tense moments, she suddenly smiled and plopped down in the seat next to him. 

“Name’s Robin. You’re Billy Hargrove right?”

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” 

“Okay, listen. I’m friends with Steve, basically his only friend on campus,” she said with an exaggerated eye roll, “and I’m here to tell you to talk to him, please. The little pining sulky thing he’s got going on was cute at first, but now it’s just kind of sad and annoying, so whatever happened between you two? I don't care, just fix it.”

 “And what makes you so sure it’s me he’s pining over or whatever? It’s probably that chic he has a date with tomorrow.” Billy leaned back in his chair, trying to feign nonchalance.

“Because,” she stretched out the word, “Dingus abandoned me during Forensics to sit in the back, even though his eyesight is terrible, all because he knew a certain blond always sat in the back. And then when you ditched, he was silent for like, an hour.” 

“Yeah? Wow. Real compelling evidence you got there chief. Unfortunately, I’ve known Harrington for longer and I know that’s not the case. There’s nothing going on between us.” Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Now can I please have my textbook back?”

“Not until you agree to talk to him,” she fired back.

“Oh yeah, I’d love to have that discussion.”

“What, big tough guy like you scared of what a dingus has to say? What’s got your panties in a twist Billy Joel?”

“None of your business. Now scram.”

“Nope,” she said, popping the p. “I need my best friend back. Besides, don’t you guys have a presentation on Friday? I can guarantee unless you two talk whatever out, he’s gonna be practically useless.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on!” His volume began to raise, only to be lowered again in the face of the librarian. He leaned closer to Robin instead. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. It's. Not. Happening.” 

“Fine. I guess it’s not what I’m thinking. After all, what do I, a lesbian from a tiny town in rural Illinois, know about mutual gay pining?” She said, leaning in to Billy too. They were practically bumping heads at this point, exchanging harsh whispers. But, as the term ‘mutual gay pining’ came out of her mouth, Billy squinted his eyes and smirked menacingly. 

“I see. You’re just some dyke who’s projecting her failed love life onto her bff in hopes of not being so lonely. Guess what buttercup? You’re dead fucking wrong. So fuck off, and go draw more tits on your shoes.” Robin leaned back in mock offense, before matching Billy with her own wicked smile.

“Oh okay. First off, fuck you, but I’m going to let it go because I know you probably have some deep seeded internalized bullshit. I had to help Steve through the same shit this semester. You’re from Hawkins too right?” One manicured eyebrow popped up, before she continued on her tirade. “Secondly, I’m never wrong. I saw the way you straight up stared at his lips that first day. Fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him? Real no homo of you.”

“Are you done?” Billy asked, preparing to pack up and piss off. He didn’t need this shit, he had too many finals coming up. 

“Sure, if you’re ready to talk to Steve?”

“For the last time, take your psychoanalytical routine and fuck off.”

“Fine, whatever. Enjoy your pining anguish and ruined project.” She stood up, and prepared to turn away, before shooting over her shoulder, “By the way, I’m not sad or lonely. I actually have a girlfriend cause I’m not a pussy.” With that, she walked away, leaving Billy floundering for a scathing retort and coming up empty handed. He huffed and settled into his seat again to study, but suddenly he couldn’t focus on the guinea pigs. Sighing, he packed up and went to eat dinner.

Over the next two days, Billy tried to go about business as usual, but found himself staring off into space a lot more, Robin’s words echoing in his ears. Finally, Friday came about and Billy had to face the music. Or at least Harrington.

He got to the hall 30 minutes early, in order to sort his papers and double check all of his notecards were in the right order. Apparently, Harrington had the same idea, because he was already seated in the second row, head bent in concentration as he fussed over a stack of papers. 

Billy walked down the aisle, hands in his pockets. When he reached the row where Harrington sat, he cleared his throat. When Harrington’s head shot up in surprise, Billy was taken aback for a moment by the positions they found themselves in, reversed from that first day. 

Billy’s eyes flicked downwards before he shuffled through the seats and flopped down into the seat next to Harrington. 

“I uh, I got my papers. Gimme a sec, and we can put them all together.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, quiet so as to not break the hush an empty lecture hall seemed to require. 

“Okay.” Harrington’s voice was equally as soft. Billy began rifling through his bag to pull out the folder containing his portion of the project, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harrington squirm nervously, bouncing his leg and chewing at his thumbnail. Robin’s words came back to him, “he’ll be practically useless.” 

Billy pulled out the folder and sighed as he turned to Harrington. Here goes nothing. 

“How was your date yesterday?” he asked, wincing a little at his choice of conversation starter.

“I told you, it wasn’t a date,” Harrington snapped, continuing to bounce his leg rapidly. 

“Fine, fine. How was your commitment?”

“Fine,” Harrington said, clipped. They lapsed into another bout of tense silence.

A few minutes passed before Steve finally broke.

“What did you think I was going to say to you?” he asked, but he resolutely didn’t look at Billy. He chose instead to focus on his hands as he picked at his cuticles.

“Oh, okay. I guess.” He paused to clear his throat. “I guess you were looking for me to say it was an accident, a drunk mistake or whatever. Didn’t need to get rejected in person when I knew it was coming anyway.” 

Suddenly, Harrington burst out laughing. It wasn’t very long, but just enough to piss off Billy.

“What’s so funny Harrington?”

“You thought I was going to reject you?”

“Yeah. Brush it off as a drunken mishap and go back to fucking ice princess or whoever.”

“Oh my god, Billy.” His first name rang in his ears. It was the first time he could remember Harrin-Steve calling him by it. “If you think I don’t feel anything for you, then you’re more stupid than I thought.” Steve’s voice carried the boisterous laugh until it began to dwindle into quiet timidness as Billy just sat there, blinking, before shooting up. 

“See you’re already insult- wait, what?” He faltered, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I said, if you think I don’t feel anything for you, if you think I regret it or brushed off what happened as some drunk mistake, you’re more stupid than I thought.” Steve said, the last part holding a light teasing tone.

“You... but… you’re…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not what? Not gay?” He paused before reaching out to gently offer his hand. “I’m not. I’m bisexual? I think? Robin’s better with the terms or what not, but um, basically I like both?” 

Billy sat down heavily before hesitantly grasping Steve’s outreached hand. 

“I guess that makes sense, but you really like me?”

“Yeah. I mean, you are an asshole, but I also saw how you were with Max and El, and even Will sometimes. You have a soft side, er. Well, softer.” Billy cracked a smile.

“I like you too Pretty Boy. Have since that one Halloween.”

“God, we’re dumbasses, huh?” Steve moaned. “Robin's going to hold this over me forever.” 

“I think she’s just going to be happy we’re not ‘mutually pining dinguses’ anymore.” Steve snorted, before looking up and squinting at Billy.

“Wait. Did she talk to you?”

“Yeah, she cornered me in the library Wednesday. You know, she kind of reminds me of a pitbull, all protective of you.”

“Yeah. I’m still gonna chew her ass. I told her specifically not to talk to you!” Before Steve could go into a full on tirade against his best friend, other classmates began to trickle in. Steve and Billy dropped hands and faced forward, prepping for their presentation again. However, just before the professor officially began class, Billy leaned over and whispered in Steve’s ear.

“You know anywhere we can talk after class? Privately.” He emphasized the last word, blowing a little puff of air, and watching Steve shiver.

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I have an apartment,” he stuttered.

“Perfect.” 

-

Hope y’all liked it! As always, my askbox is always open to prompts, it might just take a minute to get them out.