#billy hargrove protective

[lithium80writer]

The Fence (A Billy Hargrove Short Story)

Chapter one, Chapter two

Chapter three: Hope

⚠️This is a darker story. ⚠️ Billy Hargrove short story. This story will focus a lot on Billy's abuse from his father and Josephine's mental and sexual abuse from her stepfather. Can these two lost souls find sanctuary in each other? Trigger warnings ⚠️: Descriptions of sexual assault in first person and domestic abuse. Language. Thoughts of self harm and suicide. Disturbing topics. Smut. ⚠️ This story is not for everyone but more an emotional release for me. Thank you for reading. 🖤 Upside down doesn't exist. Max is not Billy's sister. It's just him and Neil.

******

Josephine's POV

Day one of the basement is always the worst. I have to adjust to losing my sense of sight, my sense of time. I sit against the cold, hard floor and stare into the nothingness. It's pitch black. I try to wave my hand in front of my face. Nothing. I can see nothing. The tiny window that used to give a light glow is now painted over.

He likes to take away anything that I love. Sunlight being one of them.

I bring my knees to my chest and place my chin against them. I wonder how long it'll be this time. He was angry to begin with but fighting back made him even angrier. After the first day of being down here, the rest all run together. I haven't been here in a long time.

I haven't missed it.

I'm hungry. He won't feed me for a few days. And when he does, it will be only enough to keep me alive. Welcome to the basement.

Billy's POV

"FUCK YOU!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I slide into the driver's seat of my car. I see my dad running down the steps of the porch and I sling the stick into the drive position. I press down on the pedal before he can reach me. And I'm gone. I roll my windows down and welcome the breeze flying in.

I scream. Again and again and again as I fly down the road. My eye is swollen shut this time. He really can't help himself this week. Must be problems with his latest lady. I drive down the street and wish I could keep driving and never stop. I've always thought about it. Just leaving and never coming back.

I'm a pretty tough guy. I can take a punch from anyone and not feel a thing. Anyone but him.

It's not the pain from his punches that bother me. Sometimes I don't even feel it anymore. It's the realization that he doesn't love me. The realization that I'm nothing but a punching bag to him.

He gets to take out all of his anger on me but what would he do if I returned the favor? I'm getting older now. Stronger. Sometimes I think I could take him.

I work out a lot. I've been trying to build my strength in case that day ever does come. I want to hurt him. Make him bleed. Watch as he begs me to stop. I want him to feel what I've had to endure for years.

But it wouldn't matter. He couldn't actually understand. It's not the same. I can kick his ass but he won't know how it feels to have the man who is supposed to love you completely destroy your childhood.

Who would I be if it wasn't for him? I think about that often. Would I be kinder? Less angry all the fucking time? Would I be happy?

I'll be 18 soon and I can't wait for that day. I can almost taste the freedom. Nothing but the sound of my car purring as I drive away from this hellhole. Away from him.

Would I miss him? Would he miss me? Yeah I know it's fucked up but he's my dad. He's all I know.

Maybe I can take Jo. Help her. Save her. That's crazy talk, Billy.

Was it my fault that she was MIA? Did I fuck up? I just wanted to see her. I need more information. Or maybe she just isn't interested, Billy. No. It has to be him. I can still see the sadness in her eyes.

What do I do? How can I help?

********

Josephine's POV

I run my finger along the line in the wall. Tracing it all the way down. I can barely stand but I have to keep moving. How long has it been? I'm starting to feel crazy. More crazy than usual.

I'll sing. Maybe that will help. My voice comes out hoarse. I need some water but my small cup is empty. I sing anyway.

"Wait a minute, baby. Stay with me a while. Said you'd give me light. But you never told me about the fire."

My usual sweet tone is scratchy and distorted. I've always loved to sing. Just for me. I love Stevie Nicks. She's my favorite. I listen to her again and again and she takes me to a different place.

Even though my voice is cracking and my throat is begging for relief I continue on.

"Drowning in the sea of love. Where everyone would love to drown. But now it's gone. It doesn't matter what for. When you build your house then call me home"

I trip over something and my knees fall hard to the concrete floor. I can't move. I can't pick myself up. I don't have the energy. He ruins everything. I curl into a ball and await the sound of the door creaking.

I can't wait to see the sun again. I can't wait to feel it. I miss my tree. And even though I've only seen him once, I miss Billy.

Billy's POV

A letter Billy? Really? I need to talk to her. Showing up on her doorstep was a mistake. I have to do this quietly. But how?

I dig through my backpack pulling out my composition notebook. What do I say? Will she even see it? She probably doesn't care. Maybe I'm fucking delusional. Maybe I imagined that look. Fuck.

I grab a pencil and tap it against the paper. I hate writing.

Hey.

Hey? Fuck... I tear the paper from the notebook, crumbling it quickly. This is stupid. I quickly write a few lines and fold it up.

Short and simple.

Now how do I get it to her? What if he finds it? Think, Billy.

A book. The tree. I saw her there before. It's worth a shot.

I don't own any books. Playboys? Hustlers? Sure.  But not exactly the look I'm going for.

I remember an old box my dad has full of books he's never touched. He won't miss it. I pick one and smile. Romeo and Juliet.

Cheesy? Absolutely.

I stick the letter inside and head for the back door. I take a peek through the small hole in the fence. No one. I carefully drop the book by the tree. I hope she gets it.

"William!" I hear him. But the fear is less than usual. I feel a little excitement. A little anticipation. A little hope.

Josephine's POV

"Josephine." I wake to his voice. My heart starts pounding. I can't see him but I can smell him. "Have you learned your lesson?" the monster says. I hate you. "Yes, father." I say instead. I hear the metal screech as he screws in the lightbulb.

My eyes burn as the light floods my vision. I feel dizzy and lightheaded. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly. I have to adjust slowly. My senses are on overdrive.

He pulls me from the ground and I have to lean into him to make it up the stairs. It makes me want to cry. But I have no tears left after my time down here.

My feet feel heavy as I make it up the stairs. More light. Sounds. It's been so quiet. I'm overwhelmed. Overstimulated. "Bath." I croak. He leads me to my room and lets me go. I fall to the floor and hear my door shut behind me.

********

It's been two days since I was set free from the basement. Today is outside day. I hope he lets me go. I need the sun.

"Thirty minutes. And I'll be watching." he appears in my doorway. I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. My eyes begin to water and I jump up quickly.

I run to my spot. My tree. A book? This isn't mine. I see a sliver of white sticking out of the top. I take the book and rest against the tree. I open it slowly and see my name scrawled across the folded paper.

My mind is swirling with thoughts as I open it as carefully as possible making sure to shield it behind the book.

Dear Jo,

I haven't seen you around recently. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I tried to come see you. Just to say hi. My lip is healed now. Replaced with a black eye but hey.. one thing at a time, right? Please let me know you're okay.

Your friend from the other side of the fence, Billy

I want to write back immediately but I have to wait. I do my best to hide my expression. I feel something in my chest. Something I've never felt before. Hope.

********

Dear Billy,

I was happy to get your letter. I'm sorry for disappearing. I am okay. Is your eye better? I hope so. Your letter caught me by surprise. It made me feel happy. I don't feel that a lot. So, thank you. Write back soon.

Your friend from the other side of the fence, Josephine.

****

Dear Jo,

My eye is fine. I'm a big boy. Are you sure you are okay? I was worried about you. Is this okay? The letters. I like hearing from you.

Your friend, Billy

****

Dear Billy,

Define okay. I will survive. I'm a big girl. I like hearing from you, too. The letters are okay. We just have to be careful. My father is.. strict.

Your friend, Jo

**** Dear Josephine,

What is strict? Does he hurt you? Is he like my dad? Your eyes looked sad but they were beautiful. I wish I could see them again.

Billy

****

Billy,

Sometimes he hurts me. But you can't tell anyone. Please. You have the prettiest eyes and I think about them often. They remind me of an ocean. I've never seen the ocean.

Your friend, Josephine

****

I want to help you. Billy

****

I want to see you. Jo

****

Today was bad. Will write more soon. Always thinking about you. Billy

****

I can't take it, Billy. Do you ever feel like you can't take it anymore? Josephine

**** Talk to me sweetheart. What happened? Your Billy

**** I need to see you. Your Josephine

[toobusybeingdelulu]

This was El’s face after watching Billy die for her btw.

[harringroveera]

Billy’s kinda protective of his hot sex-on-a-stick boyfriend

[cavinginhisfvce]

Hopper, casually ruffling Billy's hair: You did good kid! I'm proud of you.

Billy, bewildered: The hell did you just do to me?

Hopper, lowering his hand: I just tousled your hair. Ain't nobody ever done that to you before?

Billy, grabbing Hopper's wrist: Keep. Going.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

These kids get too comfortable with teasing, in Billy’s opinion. Just a tad bold for his taste.

He couldn’t give two shits if one of the boys picks on Max because she can hold her own — he taught her early on that if she has the chance to make someone cry, she should take it. And she does so fairly often. Especially when it comes to Henderson or Sinclair.

That’s not really where his main concern lies.

“Are you stupid or something?” Henderson snaps. “Did you seriously not pay attention in school or are you playing dumb right now? I honestly can’t tell.”

His tone is sharp. Loud for the small space that makes up the kitchen of Billy and Steve’s apartment.

Normally, Billy wouldn’t involve himself. The kids still act skittish around him if he so much as opens his mouth, so he tends to steer clear of them when they’re over. Which is a lot. But when he glances over at Steve and sees the smile fade from his face, he can’t help it.

He honest to god can’t.

“The fuck did you just say?”

Billy’s almost as taken aback by the words from his mouth as the kids are. Dustin’s face pales as he looks back and forth between him and Steve, like he’s looking for backup.

But Steve’s still swimming in his own head by the looks of it.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Billy repeats, slower this time. Even-toned and deadly.

Henderson opens his mouth, only for no words to come out. Billy takes a step forward but stops in his tracks when Steve sets a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Bill, it’s okay,” he urges quietly.

“Is it?”

“I just don’t know much about physics, or math, so…”

Steve gestures loosely, giving a half smile that looks a little sad. It dampens the blond’s rage for a split second. Makes him want to take up reading textbooks in his spare time if it means getting to fill his pretty boy’s head with newfound knowledge. If it means wiping that look of hopelessness off of his face. Then Henderson clears his throat.

“Yeah, it was just a joke,” he says. “No need to get so defensive.”

That reignites the flame.

“No.” Billy flares his nostrils and he swears he can feel steam puffing away from his skin as he points an accusatory finger at Dustin, who flinches at the movement despite still being a good five feet away. “I don’t care how you try to reason it, kid, you do not come into my house and call my boyfriend stupid. Am I clear?”

Dustin nods like his life depends on it. Billy stares him down for a few seconds for good measure, assuring that his soul looks sufficiently deflated before he finally tears his eyes away. Turns his gaze, now softened, towards Steve.

“And you don’t listen to that shit, okay? Jesus Christ himself could fly down in an alabaster carriage from the damn sky and call you stupid, but I’d sooner kick him square in the nuts than listen to his reasoning for it,” he tells him.

Scoops the brunet’s face into his hands when he snorts and presses a kiss to his nose.

Max groans at the PDA, but all Billy cares about is the way that Steve’s lips quirk up into a smile again.

“Square in the nuts, huh?”

“So hard that they’d become vestigial, babe. No hesitation.” Billy huffs amusedly when Steve raises an eyebrow. “Means useless,” he whispers.

Steve considers the new information for a brief moment before he chuckles and, god, Billy’s head feels like it fills with pink smoke at the sound. Makes him want to stuff Steve in a tiny jar and keep him in his pocket forever until the sun explodes.

That or get married. He’ll have to make up his mind on that some other time.

“Thanks,” Steve says.

“Anytime,” Billy lilts. Spends another wonderful moment soaking in the sight of his partner’s pretty little grin. “I guess I’ll let you get back to babysitting.”

“He’s not our babysitter,” Max huffs.

Billy doesn’t spare her a glance, too enveloped in all things Steve to care.

“Sorry,” Steve whispers. “It’s their nap time.”

They share a chuckle and, as is customary, there’s a groan when they kiss. It doesn’t matter that they aren’t super lovey dovey in front of the kids, it happens every time without fail.

Billy doesn’t mind it. He’s just glad that if they’re going to be assholes, it isn’t directed solely at Steve.

Joke or not.

[half-oz-eddie]

Imagine being a sweet and kind-hearted boy with a big bright smile and the only way you can survive in the cruel world is to purposely fill your heart with hatred to please your father

[afewproblems]

Part Three Mean!Eddie Misunderstandings AU

Part One, Part Two, read on Ao3 Here

Thank you everyone for your patience, I am splitting up this last part into two (I know, I know - I'm sorry!!)

***

 The drive home after dropping Robin off was long. She had offered to stay the night again but Steve insisted she go home unless she wanted her parents to throw them and impromptu engagement party after she eventually graduates --Steve still winces when he thinks about Mrs.Buckley cooing about what sweet babies they would make when she thought he had left the other night. 

He pulls into the empty driveway and shuts off the Beemer’s engine; it feels criminal for the sun to still be at full force at this time but at least he's been able to avoid the heat for most of the day. 

And say what you will about the Harringtons, but at least they had invested in AC before skipping town without him.

Once inside Steve hangs his keys on the hook beside the door and heads upstairs to change. He just wants to crawl into bed, hide himself under the covers and sleep after the day he's had. 

Robin did her best to give him a pep talk after their run in with Eddie at Family Video but it had mostly consisted of her brainstorming how to shave his head without implicating themselves. 

It made Steve laugh despite arguing that Eddie's hair was his third best feature and Steve is fairly certain he would be second in line to avenge it next to Eddie.

Steve throws on an old pair of pajamas and a ratty Hawkins high t-shirt from the floor beside his laundry basket. He sniffs it dubiously and throws it on, it could go another day without a wash --it's just him tonight anyway. 

Alone again.

Steve makes his way downstairs and debates a frozen pizza or the leftovers in the Tupperware Mrs.Henderson had forced into his hands before he left their house the other night. 

He'd picked up a lot of recipes from Claudia and learned different ways to stretch an ingredient across multiple meals or even make a single meal last multiple days -with his parents gone so often it had been crucial for him to learn. Steve isn't even sure where they are at this point or if they know about the earthquakes. 

A small part of him hopes they don't know, because if they did and still haven't called or come back to Hawkins to check on him….

Steve quells that line of thought and tosses it into the little box in the corner of his mind. 

Don't think about it. 

Steve rolls his shoulders and opens the fridge before taking out the tupperware and grabbing a plate from the cupboard.

The sudden sound of tires crunching and an engine turning off outside has him looking towards the front entryway, it's definitely in his driveway, but he isn't expecting anyone?

Oh god…what if it's Hopper or Nancy? Another gate? If Vecna's back, they needed him. 

Steve nearly drops the plate in his hands in his haste to get to the door, he manages to put it on the counter before sliding over the hardwood floor as he stumbles into the foyer. 

Steve flings open the door to reveal a nervous Eddie Munson on his doorstep.

"Eddie?" Steve says, his voice pitched with surprise and concern, he looks around for any sign of one of the other kids, "What is it? Is it Vecna? Is anyone hurt?"

Eddie blinks, his eyebrows pop up into his scruffy bangs, "What? No, no man, it's just me".

Steve breathes out a sharp sigh of relief and lets his heart rate slowly calm down, but if it wasn't the Upside Down why the hell was Eddie here? 

Contrary to popular opinion, Steve wasn't actually stupid, he knew Eddie wouldn't just be here for him, he'd made it perfectly clear that they weren't friends.

"Oh," Steve mumbles, still confused, "did you leave something here the other night?"

Eddie tilts his head slightly and his eyebrows fall into the barest furrow, "No Steve, I just, can I come inside?" 

His right hand twitches once before reaching for the door frame as he steps forward.

A million questions nearly burst forth from Steve, what do you want? Did the kids put you up to this? Are you going to say it to my face this time? What do you want from me?

He wrenches them back, shoving them all into that same little box, and instead says, "yeah man," as he steps aside to let Eddie through.

Eddie grins but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, the anxious feeling in Steve's gut, twisting and cold, begins to build again.

All at once Steve is incredibly aware of the fact that he's wearing pajamas and a dirty old t-shirt, he's sweaty and tired from a long day at work and he doesn't have the emotional fortitude to be told off again.

"Hey, Eddie, listen," Steve fumbles through the words, he reaches up to pinch his fingers into his eyes, "if this is about Hellfire, I'll back off, I didn’t mean to," he stops and swallows, searching for what to say. 

Because, what did he even do? It's still not clear and the thought makes him want to grind his teeth.

"To like, interfere with your set up? Or, or, actually, you know what,” Steve's voice suddenly climbs in volume, "I don't know, what did I do Munson?"

Steve raises his hands from his eyes to his hair which he grips harshly with one hand while the other gestures wildly in front of him.

"Why are you here? Why did you come to Family Video,” Steve shakes his head and chews harshly on his bottom lip, “if you hate me, I don't understand why you keep coming around?" 

Eddie is frozen in front of him, a ‘deer in the headlights’ look in his eye, his mouth opens once and closes, but Steve keeps going.

"I mean, was this just some kind of weird game to you? Let's see how much we can stick it to old King-Steve? I heard you that night man," his eyes begin to sting as he yells, his throat tightens and the words waver slightly at the end. 

Steve grits his teeth to keep himself from speaking, from revealing more than he wants to, he hasn't felt like this since Nancy called him Bullshit in the middle of that crowded Halloween party and isn't that thought a punch to the gut.

Steve shakes his head and turns his face away to pinch his nose so harshly he worries it'll bruise.

"So," Steve whispers, letting the fight drain out of him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, "what do you want, because I am not really up for whatever this is". 

Eddie isn't looking at him anymore, his face is pointed at Steve but his eyes are trained on a point on the floor between them, his eyebrows furrowed.

Unbelievable.

"Look," Steve breathes out, he reaches up and presses the fingers of his left hand into his eyes, surreptitiously wiping away any evidence of moisture, and gestures behind him at the foyer, "if you want something just spit it out, otherwise I'm tired and I'm going to bed so--"

"I'm sorry" Eddie blurts out, he takes a step closer to Steve who steps back without a thought. Eddie winces at the movement and draws his arms around himself.

Eddie seems to hesitate, his eyes dart over Steve's face and once towards the front door before his expression flattens and his shoulders square in one fluid movement. 

Steve's stomach does a little swoop as he remembers that Eddie nearly sacrificed himself to save Dustin, he wonders if his face held the same expression before he cut the rope.

"I'm sorry for what I said, I," Eddie swallows audibly and shifts his weight from foot to foot, "I was so sure of something for a really long time and it made me act like an ass". 

"Sure of what?" Steve says, his voice nearly a whisper.

"How much do you remember about me from school?" Eddie murmurs eventually, there's a slight tremor running through his hands which tighten their grip on the sides of his jean vest until his knuckles stain white.

Steve shakes his head, there wasn’t much, but by the time he had heard whispers of the name Munson, he had been dealing with Hargrove, and Nancy, and Dustin's attempts at rehabilitating a demo-dog --he'd had more than enough on his plate at the time to worry about some metal-head that stood on tables in the school cafeteria. 

Eddie's breathing stops and starts in short shallow hitching breaths and his face grows even paler than normal, he looks like he's seconds from passing out if Steve is being honest with himself. 

Fuck.

"Hey, hey Eddie, come on breathe man," Steve says sharply, he moves quickly, keeping his hands up ready to catch him, just in case, as Steve leads Eddie towards the kitchen. 

He helps Eddie sit down on a stool by the counter ledge and grabs a glass from the cupboard. Steve flits around the kitchen, distracting himself with getting Eddie water and a cool damp washcloth which he drapes over the back of his neck.

Eddie lets his head droop slightly with the weight of the towel and scoffs, muttering something under his breath; Steve's hackles raise of their own accord as he steps away from him.

"I'm just trying to help man, Jesus," he bites out, resisting the impressive urge to throw the other man out. Steve leans against the wall opposite Eddie instead and scowls. 

"Christ," Eddie snaps as he grabs the cloth and brings it around to wipe his face, "I said, I can't believe I thought you were a Grade-A asshole".

Steve suppresses a flinch at the title, the tightness in his chest returns at full force.

"Thanks," Eddie mumbles, slumping in his seat as the anger seems to drain out of him. Eddie closes his eyes, holding up the towel, "how did you know that would help?" 

He reaches for the glass in front of him, the slight tremble of his fingers the only remaining sign of Eddie's panic.

Steve shrugs, a small part of him wants to tell Eddie about the Russians.

How his sense of touch almost always helped to snap him out of an episode, whether it was Robin’s small warm hand on his cheek when things got too much, or a cool wet washcloth to wipe away the sweat from his brow after a waking nightmare. It was grounding, bringing him back to the present quicker than any other method he and Robin have tried in the last year or so since recovering from their time underneath Starcourt.

Steve’s not quite ready for that conversation though.

Eddie's watching, analyzing him the way Robin does sometimes and Steve realizes he must have been quiet for awhile, Eddie’s big brown eyes trace over Steve questioningly, but he keeps his mouth shut for now. 

"You want to talk about it?" Steve says slowly, changing the subject. He half expects Eddie to tell him to shove it and get up from the stool to leave, pretending this conversation never took place. 

He doesn't though.

Instead Eddie drops the towel on the counter and brings both of his hands to his face. He sits there, hunched for almost a minute solid before letting them drop back into his lap.

Eddie doesn't look at Steve as he starts to speak.

"I've lived with my uncle for a very long time," he says softly, the words almost too quiet for Steve to make out at first, "I moved in with him just before highschool". 

Eddie swallows and licks his lips, "I told you a little bit about my dad already yeah?" 

He raises his eyes to finally look at Steve, who nods again. It feels wrong to speak, like he would be interrupting.

"Well, he wasn't arrested till after I was in Hawkins, but I don't think I really felt safe until the day Wayne got that call". 

Steve's stomach abruptly falls into his shoes. 

Sure, Eddie's story about learning to hot wire had made Steve pause but he hadn't really thought more about that story beyond the ease with which Eddie brought the vehicle to life. He feels his chest twinge with shame this time and steps closer.

"Apparently," Eddie continues, slowly, carefully, "Billy Hargrove had taken it upon himself to tell everyone he could about me and my shitty fuckin' family".

"That uh," Eddie's wary eyes flick up at Steve once more, his expression tight, "that my dad kicked me out, woulda killed me if he could've".

Steve feels a chill roll up his spine at the words.

“And he wasn’t wrong, got all the details right somehow, even the one about me liking--" he trails off before wiping his left hand down his face while the right reaches for the towel again and begins fiddling with it.

Steve makes a noise, something soft and understanding, he takes a step closer to the counter, halting as Eddie looks up with open panic.

"But," Eddie continues with watchful eyes, "up until a few hours ago, I thought…you had done that".

And that is the last straw.

Steve doesn't think this time when he moves, he steps up to Eddie and before he can even open his mouth or flinch Steve has him wrapped in his arms.

It's awkward with Eddie still seated on the stool, his face pressed into Steve's collarbone, but he’s tense and Steve knows he's stopped breathing altogether. 

"I'm sorry about your dad," Steve murmurs into the top of Eddie's wild hair, and he is. Steve knows exactly what it's like to have a dad that uses violence to get his way, that screams first and asks questions later.

Eddie shakes his head once, an incredulous expression pulls at his brow as he leans back slightly to look Steve up and down once more before he grins sharply.

"Yeah well," Eddie hums, "I'm sure he wasn't planning on having a fag for a kid".

Steve pulls away abruptly, but keeps his arms around Eddie's shoulders, his face briefly twisting into a harsh scowl. Steve doesn't catch the terror that flits across Eddie's face as he stands up to his full height.

"Don't call yourself that," Steve says harshly, "and don't use that word around Robin and the kids".

He lets go of Eddie entirely, and begins to pace, "Your dad is a piece of shit, who didn't deserve you and Billy Hargrove is lucky he's dead," Steve growls lowly, he takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before releasing it slowly through his nose, he needed to calm down.

Like he said, Billy was dead, and the senior Munson was in some prison somewhere where he couldn't get to Eddie anyway, and not every problem required the use of his fists, Robin's words echo in his ear. 

"What?" Eddie blurts out, surprise painting his face. He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes at Steve as though he's never seen him before. 

But there's a fire in Steve that has been burning for three years, ever since he tried to apologize to Jonathan and Nancy the very first time, and the flames burned even brighter a year ago when he stopped to take in Robin's pale, desperate, face as she told him about Tammy.  

"And I know Hawkins is shit, trust me," Steve growls, he steps into Eddie's space again, "but there are people here who believe that there is nothing wrong with you, got it? You have us now".

"I, I know," Eddie mumbles, he's still watching Steve with something akin to awe in his eyes but it disappears as quickly as Steve spots it.

"Thank you," Steve says eventually, "for telling me, sorry if I freaked you out just now".

It's quiet in the kitchen for a beat, the only noise is the steady tick of the large wall clock beside the pantry and the hum of cicadas from outside the kitchen window Steve had forgotten to close that morning.

Steve nervously chews his lip, he's ruined it again, his second attempts at being cool about someone coming out to him even worse than the first. Robin had been nice about it at the time -and admittedly neither of them could quite remember the bulk of the conversation, but he does remember telling Robin her first crush was a dud and sounded like a dying Muppet. 

So, he was two for two.

"You're sorry?" Eddie finally croaks, his eyes are larger than Steve has ever seen him and his chest stutters once as he breathes rapidly.

Steve reaches for the discarded cloth on the counter just to keep his hands from reaching for Eddie. 

"You're sorry?" Eddie says again, his voice barely a whisper, "you're unbelievable is what you are".

Oh. 

Steve sighs and blinks once, twice, before closing his eyes, "I know".

"Shut up," Eddie barks, "I'm the one who is trying to apologize and you're being so--"

"I know--"

"No! Let me fucking talk Harrington," Eddie shouts, and Steve feels his teeth click as he snaps his mouth shut.

He braces himself, better to get it all out on the table now, he thinks, let him say his piece and then they can all just move on -he can move on. 

"I don't think I ever understood you, how you fit in with this whole group," Eddie mutters, his face tipped towards the floor, he brushes a handful of curls away from his face as they slide forward.

"I mean, I watched you in action, you ripped a fucking bat in half man," he laughs but his expression is shuttered, almost blank as he counts off on his ringed fingers, "you carried me out of hell, you listen to all the shit the kids say when they tell you stories, do you know how many people would just tune them out? You cooked for my uncle, you--Robin is your best friend? Robin?" 

"Hey,” Steve says sharply with a glare, “layoff Robin, what are you even saying?"

"See!” Eddie throws his hands towards Steve emphatically, a wild look in his eyes,”that's what I’m talking about! Thats, it’s--okay it’s not coming out right," Eddie stands up from the stool but stays beside the counter. 

He huffs out a small quiet laugh and shakes his head, his eyes never once leaving Steve’s face, "you're just, you're not who I thought man".

Steve crosses his arms, wrapping them tightly around his midsection and the Hawkins high logo in faded orange print,"I thought we already had this conversation?"

"Yeah well, I actually mean it this time".

"...Right,” Steve sighs tiredly, it's laughable really, just how wrong he and Robin had been. 

All that time he thought they were growing closer, that Eddie had been his friend. 

All those small moments over the last few months were nothing. Just two people with vastly different expectations of what they meant to one another. 

Eddie’s face twists as the words tumble out at a mile a minute, "no, fuck, Steve, I can't, just--I don't," he grabs two handfuls of hair and yanks, hard, "I came here to tell you that I'm sorry, and I'm fucking it up.”

Eddie takes a deep breath before letting it all out in one smooth motion, "you're amazing, Steve, and I'm kicking myself for not seeing that before”.

He takes a step towards Steve but hesitates,spinning the rings on his fingers.

“I’m just, I’m really sorry and I hope that you can forgive me, that we can get back to where we were before?”

Steve feels himself smile mechanically, his chest tight and cold, he nods once and hears the words, 'yeah man,' leave his mouth. It's as though he's in a fog, everything feels so far away.

The smile Eddie gives him is brilliant, bright enough to light up the kitchen but Steve turns away and sweeps a tremulous hand through his hair. 

"Yeah, Eds, we'll see each other around, we're good".

Eddie's smile falters slightly, but Steve is determined to end this conversation, go upstairs and crawl into bed for a millennia,

"I'll put in a good word with Mrs. Henderson," Steve continues, gesturing towards the abandoned tupperware on the counter, "I think she'd listen if I told her you guys needed a place for Dusty-Bun's club".

Eddie's face falls slightly, "What, Steve--" 

"It'll be great, Claudia makes the best snacks and she honestly has a better basement than the Wheelers --but don't ever say that to Mike or you'll never hear the end of it," Steve says with a half smile as he walks towards the counter to grab the tupperware, he lifts it up to show Eddie before he reaches for the fridge door to put it away.

He's not hungry anymore anyway. 

"But…" Eddie whispers, the tone catches Steve's attention but he can't look at Eddie right now, he just wants to sleep.

"I mean, you could come, you know," Eddie clears his throat and moves, the sound of fabric and shoes scuffing across hardwood makes Steve finally look up.

Eddie is beside him, his expression equal parts wary but hopeful, his big brown eyes fixed on Steve.

I thought Hell would freeze over? Steve thinks to himself angrily before biting the inside of his cheek. 

They've just reached some kind of truce, Eddie apologized for fucks sake, he should just let this go. 

But there is a heat now that simmers in his chest, it makes him want to scream. Steve swallows roughly and pushes the feeling down, trying his best to smother the flames into embers before they engulf him completely.

If friendship is all he is allowed, then Steve can work with that, he just has to reign things in a bit. He’s been playing fast and loose with his heart for so long and that it's become a dangerous game.

"Yeah, sure, I can," Steve mumbles tiredly, "I just have to check my schedule, Keith's been keeping me on my toes lately". 

He shrugs and gives Eddie a wane smile before clearing his throat and turning away, "anyways man, I'm beat".

Steve moves towards the opposite hallway, he feels like he's escaping.

Eddie stands in the kitchen, shoulders drooped, but he nods and stuffs his hands into his pockets. He takes a step towards the foyer before turning sharply around.

"Harring- Steve," Eddie winces, "Steve, I also wanted to say we're sorry about the table, we didn't mean to scratch it all to hell that night and," he swallows roughly, "I can, we can chip in to…help fix it or whatever". 

But Steve is already shaking his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips, "it's cracked actually--"

"What?!"

"No, no," Steve cuts in, he waves his hand to sweep away the panic in Eddie's voice, "Sorry, it's been cracked for awhile, you guys didn't have anything to do with it".

Eddie deflates in obvious relief, he laughs brightly, letting the last of his nervous energy flow out in a cackle.

"Fuck man, thank God, I definitely do not have the money to fix that shit," Eddie sweeps his hands into his curls to pull them away from his face, "why's it still cracked?"

Steve shrugs, "No one's bothered with it before, easier to just leave it I guess," he breathes out sharply through his nose in something like a laugh, "I wouldn't know how to fix it if I tried, never been good at woodworking". 

Steve looks back at Eddie to find him staring, his eyebrows have pinched together and gone is the smile that shone nearly as much as the rings on his hands. 

"Anyway, I'll see you around man," Steve hums, he doesn't need Eddie analyzing him, seeing something in him that he shouldn't. It’s a dismissal, one that Eddie seems to take well, despite the stiffness of his shoulders.

"Yeah, I'll see ya," Eddie says softly over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the kitchen, back towards the front door.

Steve waits until the door has closed, until he hears gravel under tires, until he's sure that Eddie is gone. His chest tightens once more with hot blistering anger that builds in his stomach before overflowing into his chest.

It drives him forward, the anger, the overwhelming heat building up his neck and pounding in his head, he's at the counter all of a sudden.

The plate he was going to use for supper is in his hands.

He raises it over his head and brings it down in a satisfying clash of shattered ceramic that explodes all over the hardwood.

Steve stands there, breathing raggedy in a daze.

Fuck.

The floor is covered in shards of varying sizes, he realizes belatedly he's only wearing socks but the thoughts come slow as though dragging themselves through mud. 

Steve steps over the ceramic and walks to the pantry, he removes the broom and dustpan from the small hanger on the inside of the door.

Steve begins to sweep up the shards into a little pile, wincing as a few pieces here and there cut through the fabric of his socks and into the soles of his feet.

Steve doesn't realize he's crying until he sees the tears drop into the pile of plate shards and dust. Steve scrubs his arm over his eyes roughly and sniffs, his lungs stutter once as he chokes out a wet cough. 

"Get it together," he says sharply to himself.

Steve methodically sweeps the rest of the plate into the dustpan and walks towards the sink before opening the bottom cupboard and tipping the pan into the garbage can. 

He takes off his socks and examines the bottoms, there are a few small pieces of plate but no blood -Steve counts it as a win.

Steve leaves the broom and dustpan out and walks himself and the dirty socks out of the kitchen and up the stairs back to his room, his limbs feel heavy and the steady heat that had crawled up his neck has been replaced by a bone deep exhaustion that he longs to sink into.

Steve closes his bedroom door and steps towards the bed, allowing himself to tip forward and collapse against the comforter.

It's hard to move now, everything feels sore, from the tips of his toes, and the soles of his feet, to the top of his head. It's as though someone stretched him out between their hands and twisted and twisted until there was nothing left inside of him. 

He's empty and that thought is terrifying.

Steve reaches out blindly for the phone on his bedside table, he manages to snag it by the cord and narrowly avoids smacking himself in the face as the hard plastic swings into his hands. He dials the Buckley's home number by memory and waits.

"Hello?" 

"Hey, Mrs.Buckley, can you put Robin on?"

"Of course dear, but we are going to be having dinner soon so not too long okay?"

"Yes Mrs. Buckley,"

He waits, letting his pillow cradle the phone to his ear while the muffled background noise of the Buckley household trickles through the speaker, talking and television and laughter. It's a stark contrast to his own silent home. 

"Steve?"

"Hey Bobby," he nearly whispers into the receiver, he feels himself melt into the mattress at the sound of her voice.

"Steve" Robin grumbles over the line, "I just left you like an hour ago, what's up?"

He chews on his lip and the words for a beat, considering how to even tell her, "Eddie, um, came by".

"What?!" Robin's voice squeals over the speaker and Steve almost drops the phone as he jerks it away from his ear, "what did he want? Did you let him in?"

"Yeah Bobs," he sighs tiredly, "he, he apologized--"

"Steve, we talked about this, you forgive people way too easily--"

"I know, I just…" he doesn't even know how to say it, that a rage burnt him up from the inside out until he was nothing but hollow embers and smoke.

"Robin, I was so angry," 

"Did you yell at him? What did you say?"

"No," he pushes himself up from the pillows, just catching the phone as it threatens to tumble from his shoulder, "he left, he, we talked about going back to normal, he…"

"Steve, what the hell did he say this time, you have to tell me, it's like the platonic soulmate law--"

"He didn't mean it the first time, when we talked in the Upside Down, that he thought I was a good dude, everything I thought for months has been a lie," his voice shakes as he continues, "he thought I spread this awful rumor about him back in highschool and he's never forgiven me for it, but I had no idea and I didn't do it -I know I was the fucking worst back then but Robin I promise you I didnt-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay, do you want me to come over?" 

"No, your mum said you had dinner right away,"

"Steve, you’re way more important than dinner, that's so lame but it's one thousand percent true and I'll come up with something better when I get to your house, I'm leaving now".

Steve smiles as Robin hangs up with a soft, ‘see you in a minute!’ and sets the phone back on the receiver, he closes his eyes and tucks his face into the pillows for just a moment. 

Steve wakes with a start to the sound of feet hitting the stairs two at a time, he looks over at the red numbers on his bedside clock and squints as copper sunlight hits his face through his bedroom window. It's nearly quarter after seven now and the exhaustion that had held his limbs seems to have loosened ever so slightly. 

Steve doesn't move from the bed as Robin opens his door and pads slowly across the carpet. She says nothing in greeting and crawls onto the mattress. Steve shifts slightly to let her wiggle her way in between him and the bedroom wall.

"You asshole," Robin scolds softly, but there's still a smile in her voice, "you didn't even lock your front door, anyone could have come in here".

She wraps her thin arms around him from behind and Steve feels himself melt into the embrace.

"This have anything to do with the broom and dustpan on the counter?" she continues after a beat, "you don't really strike me as the sweeping type, it was like pulling teeth getting you to do it at scoops".

"Vacuuming is better" he mumbles into his pillow.

Robin is warm behind his back, holding him steady, and he finds himself reaching for her hand draped over his chest. The easy affection soothes the remaining burn in his heart.

"I smashed a plate," Steve says so softly he can feel Robin even shuffle closer to hear him. 

She's quiet a moment, but she doesn't move away. If anything, Robin seems to drape herself over his shoulder even more, wrapping him up in a cocoon of warmth. Steve swallows roughly and turns his face further into the pillows. 

"Nothing like a good plate smash," she mumbles sagely into his ear, "I think I read that in a magazine once, buy cheap dishes so you got something to smash when things just get too much," she pauses to sit up and turn him over to face her, "or maybe it was pencils".

Steve snorts as she mimes a violent snapping motion with her hands, and finally let's himself look at her. 

Robin's smiles as his eyes meet her own, but there's still a flicker of worry behind her blue ones that she can't seem to hide. 

And she isn't the only one who is worried.

This wouldn't be the first time he's acted out because of his anger. Steve would be the first person to admit he has a history of impulsive behavior, throwing himself fist first into situations before he can properly think it through. 

He says things in the moment he regrets later. Hell, Steve vandalized private property because he was angry with Nancy for christ sakes.

But this was different, it felt different. This scared him. It was like he had taken a backseat for a moment, disengaged from the world and came back to himself surrounded by shattered ceramic and a deep feeling of shame. 

He wonders, belatedly, if this is how his father felt when he would break things, when he would scream at Steve until he was red faced and shaking, when he would slam doors and smash the flat palm of his hand into walls or dragging his heavy class ring over the previously unblemished wood surface of his grandmother's table. 

It's terrifying to think about.

"You want me to stay?" Robin whispers after a beat.

Steve breathes out sharply through his nose, "I'm sure your parents would love that," he wiggles his eyebrows and attempts a lecherous wink, laughing at the squawk Robin makes.

She grabs one of the pillows and catches him with a face full of cotton batting, "Hey, for a fake boyfriend I could do worse you perv".

It starts an all out war, Steve lets her get him into a headlock before he licks all the way up the offending arm holding him in place, she lets go with a cry of, 'Gross!' and swings the pillow into his face again.

By the end of it they're both laughing so hard they can't even sit up.

"Robin," Steve says softly. 

They're laying on the bed, Steve with his head on the pillow by the headboard and Robin laying with her head closest to the end. She nudges his ear with her toe and he jerks away with a squawk.

"Yeah?" Robin groans as she slides her elbows towards her head to prop her torso up to look at him.

He lets his eyes trace over her, this girl who can make him laugh no matter what, who seems to read his mind with little to no trouble, who is ready to loudly defend him whenever possible.

He loves her so much.

Steve shakes his head, a prickly static charge builds in his hair as it rubs against the pillow, "just, you're just the best person I know," he says eventually, "don't tell Dustin I said that, but I'm glad I met you".

Robin mimes pulling a zipper closed over her mouth and flicks away the metal pull. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are suspiciously shiny at the tender admission.

"You absolute goof, do you keep onions under your bed," she snarks after wiping her eyes with her hand, she takes her wet fingers and wipes them off on his pajamas. 

"I'm glad I met you too, and if you want to talk about," she half shrugs and tips her head towards his bedroom door, "you know, the plate thing, I'm here".

She reaches for his ankle resting next to her elbow and gives it a squeeze, "God, all the hair on your legs, it looks like you have a second set of pants on".

"Can't even be nice to me for longer than five minutes," Steve mutters as he steals the offending leg to sit up on the bed.

"I didn't bring anything," Robin says suddenly, looking over at the glaring red numbers on Steve's alarm clock on his side table, "what's a gal gotta do for some food and some pj's?"

Steve rolls his eyes and uncrosses his legs and throws them over the side of the bed, sitting up while he's at it, "you figured out a Russian spy code with your little genius ears but you couldn't snag a change of clothes before you left?"

"Hey, you called me, I came running," Robin tells him firmly, she sits up and scooches over to sit beside him with her legs draped over the edge and their thighs pressed together.

"I know Bobby, I knew you would," he says softly as she leans her head to rest on his shoulder, the weight at his side is warm and familiar and pulls a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Steve lets his head loll to the side to rest on Robin's, his limbs loose as a tension he hadn't realized had been trapped in his shoulders flows out of him.

***

Over the next few weeks things begin to ease back into some semblance of normal.

It's not easy.

Steve ends up having to trick the kids into going to the old ice cream parlor where Eddie is waiting for them to make a separate apology for their last Hellfire meeting. 

Steve insists they're fine to the four sets of  disbelieving eyes that scowl at both of them, he and Eddie have buried the hack-saw and there's nothing more to say.

"It's hatchet, Steve," Dustin says with exasperation and barely concealed glee, “you buried the hatchet, sometimes I think you say these things on purpose".

"Oh Dusy-bun," Steve hums, reaching out to catch Dustin with his arm and drag him into a loose headlock, "I absolutely do it on purpose".

It's a little awkward, Will still seems a bit wary of Eddie, but Mike, Dustin, and Lucas obviously missed their Dungeon Master.

Steve can't help the clawing guilt that sits heavy in his stomach from being at the center of their little fight, but a small irritable part of him is envious of how quickly they all fall back into step with one another without missing a beat.

"This place is alright," Lucas says once they've all settled into a hideous lime green booth with their treats, "but the butterscotch is shit compared to Scoops".

He's frowning at the half eaten cup in his hands like he's tempted to toss it right then and there.

"Ice cream is ice cream," Mike scoffs with a roll of his eyes, he reaches for the cup which Lucas snatches back just out of reach from grabby fingers.

"Hey, I never said I wouldn't finish it--"

"You're practically giving it away dude, come on!" 

Eddie smiles and seems to finally relax into his seat, he leans across the table closer to Steve and Dustin and whispers conspiratorially, "What the hell is scoops?"

"Remember Starcourt?" Dustin chirps around a mouthful of Rocky Road before Steve can say anything, "Steve worked there, and Robin, that's how they met". 

Eddie tilts his head and frowns, his eyes pan back and forth between Dustin and Steve, "the mall that burnt down?"

Steve tenses, his right hand curls into a fist beneath the table while the little wooden spoon in his left hand threatens to snap between his fingers resting on the sticky table top.

Eddie glances at him curiously before looking back to Dustin who continues to speak, oblivious to the strangers around them.

"Oh yeah, that wasn't a fire--"

"Dustin," Steve snaps, more loudly and harshly than he intends, but it catches the teens attention. Steve shakes his head once and gestures around the shop, they're one of three full tables of people but even still, their voices have been carrying all afternoon.

Dustin has the good graces to look sheepish before scowling at the ice cream in his hands, "no one's listening--"

"Not here--" Steve manages to spit out between his teeth before all four kids are arguing at the top of their voices.

"Don't yell at Dustin!" 

"No one's even in here!"

"What, we can't even talk about this with each other now?"

"Fuck off Steve--"

Steve almost laughs, it's the first time in two weeks the kids have acted like their old selves instead of walking on eggshells around him, weighing their words carefully, avoiding bringing up Eddie or Hellfire and trailing off when he enters a room.

"Hey," Eddie says sharply, "layoff your babysitter alright, Jesus Christ guys".

And suddenly the spell is broken.

Lucas slowly puts down his cup and Mike rolls his eyes but seems to deflate in his seat, leaning into Will who frowns at Eddie slightly. Dustin crosses his arms across his chest and glares with a mutinous expression at the table. 

Dammit.

"Okay, everyone relax, finish up and let's go," Steve sighs. He reaches over and tugs on Dustin's ever present cap with his right hand while the left hand, still holding his spoon, snags a little taste of Lucas's cup of butterscotch. 

All of the kids start yelling again, but this time laughter rings out as the earlier tension melts away. 

Steve looks at Eddie who smiles widely at him, relief evident in his big brown eyes; he can't stop the small grin that takes over his own face at the sight, even if it does make his chest ache. 

They leave shortly after, the kids prattle on about some sci-fi movie that's caught their eye for the next trip to the Hawk Theater. Dustin argues that sequels never hold up while Will insists that as long as there are Aliens, as the title suggests, it should be just as good as the first.

Steve and Eddie follow just behind the group, Eddie slows down to walk in step with Steve. 

"Sooo that was a little…intense," Eddie says, it's phrased more like a question and the way he's looking at Steve, like he's waiting for an answer for why the air in the ice cream place seemed to shift. He reaches for Steve's elbow with soft fingers that curl around and press into his denim jacket. 

The kids have already piled into the beamer, Lucas snags the front seat since it's his turn --much to the irritation of Mike who 'never gets front seat dibs!'

Eddie swings in front of Steve slightly, letting his hand maintain contact at Steve's elbow, grounding them both.

Eddie's eyes narrow, just enough that Steve catches it, "You just…seem a little on edge or something".

Steve shugs and carefully pulls on a small neutral grin. It's comfortable, he's worn it before.

"Yeah man," he looks away from Eddie's concerned gaze, "it's all good, I'll see you later alright?

He keeps the tone bright. It's not his customer service voice, this is something he's carefully honed over years of sports injuries, smiling at teachers as they scolded him, or lying through his teeth to his dad after a particularly nasty screaming session.

It's light, and something he's never had to break out with Robin.

A small part of Steve was hoping he'd never have to use it on Eddie, but here they were.

"I gotta get the kids back anyway," it's not quite a lie but it's only three in the afternoon, and the words only seem to push Eddie a little further as his fingers curl more firmly around Steve's elbow.

"Steve," Eddie says again, but Steve is already pulling himself out of Eddie's grip, his hand falls away to hang limply at his side, silver rings glinting in the midafternoon sun.

Steve waves and makes his way to the driver's side door, ignoring the way Eddie's eyes follow him and the downward curve of his mouth.

He opens the car door and lets it shut, allowing the chaos of noise and teenage yelling drown out the guilt that followed him into the car.

"So," Dustin says from the back as Steve buckles himself in,"are you sure you guys are good?" 

Steve pauses for just a second before he blinks and puts the key in the ignition, "yeah, 'course man, why wouldn't we be?" 

Dustin is quiet for a moment, all of the kids are. 

There is a strange, somber heaviness in the vehicle as Steve makes his way down mainstreet. 

Mike seems off in his own stormy little world, glaring at the hands in his lap while Will looks out the window with a sad frown. Steve feel's Dustin and now Lucas watching him, their gaze enough to make him itch. 

"You guys just seem different," Dustin insists, he crosses his arms over his seatbelt and leans back into his seat. 

"You guys don't touch like you used to," Lucas says matter of factly.

Dustin snaps his fingers and leans forward once more to grab the back of Lucas's seat, "that's what it is! It's been driving me crazy!"

A dull ache throbs in Steve's chest as the kids continue to talk over one another, the volume gradually rising in the small space.

"Okay, first of all, I will crash this car if you all keep yelling," Steve barks over the four incessant voices, "Jesus, second of all, we don't touch each other--"

"Yes you do!"

"Um, have you met yourselves?"

"Jesus, it's like you're a pair of Octopuses!"

"If you're both sooo good why didn't you guys hug goodbye like you used to?"

"Enough," Steve says sharply, he signals right and slowly pulls off to the side of the road, letting the crackle of gravel fill the now silent vehicle. Steve grips the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles have faded to white to hide the shaking of his hands.

"Look," Steve sighs, he lifts one hand away from the steering wheel to scrub harshly over his face. It catches on the hint of stubble on his cheeks.

"I appreciate you guys looking out for me, but I am an adult, and I can take care of myself".

"What about when Max saved you from Billy?" Mike scoffs, he ignores the elbow that Will throws into his side. 

"Or when Erica and I had to rescue you and Robin from the Russians?" Dustin challenges with equal ferocity. 

"That was different," Steve says with a scowl and a roll of his eyes, "I only got into those situations because I was looking out for you shitheads--"

"Exactly!!" Dustin crows with a smirk.

"Us shitheads stick together!" He raises his eyebrow like he's already won the argument and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Steve sighs and lets his head tip back into the headrest, he looks into the rear view mirror at the three sets of eyes staring back at him before tipping his face to the side to see Lucas's unwavering gaze from the passenger seat. 

"If I promise you guys that everything is fine for now, you'll drop it?"

The kids are quiet for a moment before Will says, "Party meeting, plug your ears Steve".

Steve considers just putting the car back into drive and continuing on their way, ignoring the ridiculous request. 

But it's Will, and the youngest Buyers has finally realized his ability to weaponize his big hazel eyes and bowl cut to get whatever he wants.

"How is this my life," Steve mutters under his breath but does as he's asked. 

He raises his hands to cup over his ears, muting the following low chatter around him. Steve hums a few bars of Dancing in the Dark to make whatever they're saying even more indistinguishable, because he's a damn good babysitter, before Lucas taps his elbow.

Steve shifts in the driver's seat, turning so he can see all of the beaming faces staring back at him. He feels his eyes narrow in suspicion.

"We'll drop it," Dustin tells him with a smile that doesn't waver once as he looks over to Lucas and then Will, Mike rolls his eyes though the smallest of grins tugs at the corner of his lips.

"If you agree to host Hellfire again," Lucas says with a sly smile, holding his hand out with wiggling fingers for Will to match the corresponding move with his own confident hand. 

"Guys…"

"Come on Steve, you've got the best place for it and we'll make sure you have a good time!" Dustin leans across Mike who huffs and pushes him away, it doesn’t stop Dustin from clasping Steve’s driver's seat with his hands and squeezing the leather by Steve’s shoulder.

Steve holds in a scoff, doubting that they can really guarantee such a thing, especially if Eddie and the other Hellfire members will be there, but the kids are all doing their best impression of the youngest Wheeler, Holly, when she begs for piggyback rides.

"Fine," Steve huffs out, he feels a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth as the kids cheer. 

"Yeah, yeah, if you really want to make me happy, one of you should learn to fuckin' drive".

Taglist: @zerokrox-blog @samcoxramblings @thosemessyvibes @liketheocean @vampireinthesun @themostunoriginalpersonever @merricatty @hyperfixationgoddess @hippieg1rl420

And thank you to @flowercrowngods for your encouragement, I hope the stobin fluff makes up for this not being finished yet!

[eashmo]

I don't know why, but this look will forever have me ferel.

Please send help!

[bidarcywriter]

Steve after admitting he’s dating Billy Hargrove: What the hell are you looking for?

Dustin, sifting through Steve’s cabinets, drawers, and shelves: Your standards.

[ickypuppi3]

no but can you imagine steve realising how much billy actually cries like maybe it’s been playing on his mind since the night at the byers because he happened to notice billy tearing up before knocking steve out but steve just brushes it off like oh yeah.. adrenaline, stress, whatever.. we’ve all been there but then the two of them get close and steve says the wrong thing and pisses billy off and steve’s left sitting in his car wondering if that really happened, if billy hargrove really just slammed the door behind him with tears streaming down his face

but steve brushes it off again because he doesn’t know how to bring it up and billy’s very billy the next time they see each other and steve doesn’t want to rock the boat

but

it keeps happening and soon enough steve’s like oh.. this is like, a thing, huh? and he gets good at noticing the signs, starts being able to really comfort billy when things get too much, when he’s had a shitty day, when neil’s being neil

and if steve strokes billy’s hair when he pulls him in, who’s to say? if he presses a kiss to the top of billy’s head sometimes.. well, he’s just being a good friend

yeah.. that’s what it is

[boldlyshadowytrash]

"he not real".. Okay His tragedy made me cry!!!

[fanatics4l]

billy, who protected his mama whenever his daddy hit her and always threw himself in front of her. billy, who did his best to make his mama smile and laugh whenever she was sad or hurt. the boy who cried nonstop for his mama after she left, begging for her to take him with her because daddy kept hitting him and pushing him and yelling at him even though he doesn't know what he did wrong. billy, who gave up after one day too long without his mother's phone calls.

billy, who hated his new step-mom and step-sister when neil introduced them. who hated susan when she always looked away while neil beat on him right in front of her. who hated himself for wanting her to protect him or just look at him after neil was done with him and tell him that it's going to be okay. billy, who hated max for being the child neil always wanted, constantly spoiled, smiled at, never laid a hand on. he wanted his dad to love him. not her. not susan. him. billy, who took the blame for all of max's wrongdoings and went to bed with bruises and frustrated tears in his eyes.

billy, who saw the way max's friends looked at him, how steve harrington looked at him, like he was a monster. a fuck up. a boy, who submitted when his sister forced him to with a bat between his legs, smiling because yes, this is familiar. a brother, who left his sister alone after that night and did whatever she asked him to without a fight because she had the power over him. she had neil.

billy, who was violated over and over again by some shadow that touched every bone in his body and took away his right to be. who nobody bothered to save after finding out what happened to him because billy didn't matter. billy had always been a monster; nothing changed. no one ever tried to save him. not his mother, not his elementary school teachers. not the police. not the neighbours. not his stupid sister and her stupid friends.

billy, who protected and protected and protected, but was never protected in turn. billy, who sacrificed himself for a little girl who brushed her thumb against his cheek and oh, when was the last time someone touched him like this. billy, who died protecting his stupid sister and her stupid friends.

billy, an eighteen year old little boy, who was buried in a town he hated, surrounded by people who hated him, with a name he hated engraved on his tombstone. whose grave nobody ever visited. whose cruel father roamed free. billy, whose abuser won. billy, who was used for evil even after death. billy, who only wanted to be seen.

[bottombillyapologist]

My opinion on billy hargrove as a character is so complicated but I think I can boil is down as: he is one of the few realistic interpretations of an imperfect abuse victim where his actions make you uncomfortable and it can be generally agreed he doesn’t take Good actions, but even just the slightest bit of thinking can make you understand why he does what he does. Why it makes sense to him.

You can look at him and go “I empathize with you, I understand you, I could’ve been you if I didn’t have a support system” or even “I WAS you” or “I AM you” and I think the reason he is so controversially liked/disliked is there is some inherent belief that somehow despite the way you were raised, you’re supposed to just inherently know what’s right and wrong. And yeah, once you’re in recovery you tend to learn what’s right and wrong, but nowhere in Billy’s story does anyone ever tell him the way he’s being treated is wrong. No one tells him the actions he’s taking because of it are wrong. Or on the other hand, he is punished so universally for his behavior it is hard to discern when his actions are actually wrong, or if he’s being treated unfairly. He is never shown empathy or understanding until quite literally, the moment he dies.

The message of his story is that when you are isolated, abused, and angry, no one tries to help you until it’s already too late. So yeah, I think anyone can dislike a character for any reason they want, but writing him off as an abusive racist when the quite literally Point Of His Character is “this is what can happen to a person when they are never given kindness/empathy/support and it warps their morals and actions to be violent and/or prejudiced” is just. Wrong. Especially when that includes attacking people who empathize with his character.

Regardless of if you like it or not, there are real people who were like that, are like that, and they deserve love, support, and empathy as much as any “‘perfect’” abuse victim that never perpetuated the cycle. Anger is simply a product of the fear that comes with abuse. Redirecting that anger at others is a learned behavior that comes with coping with that abuse, it’s not right, but you can’t unlearn it unless you’re given a chance to heal. Every abuse victim deserves support and a chance to heal and learn from their past actions and mindsets. Understanding a mindset is not the same thing as condoning it.

So please for the love of god, leave people alone when they write a happy ending for someone they see themselves in.

[harringroveera]

Jim finally took matters in his own hands and did what was needed to be done

[cavinginhisfvce]

Billy, having a nerf gun war with the kids, when he's backed into a corner by Max and El, both holding their guns up at him with sinister smirks.

"Any last words, blondie?"

With his hands held up in surrender, Billy sighs, "tell Steve I love him. And he better not remarry!"

Before the words are even fully out, the two girls are pelting him with nerf bullets, cackling at his dramatic display of falling over the couch, a hand clutching his chest.

[miaisagirllover]

its always “steve may have triggered b’lly due to him being abused” and never “b’lly may have triggered lucas due to him being bullied for his race”

oddly peculiar that u guys are putting the feeling of a white guy over a black kid but idk man thats just me and my post-muffin sugar rush