#brotp: dingus and doofus

[carol-effing-danvers]

Walk Around With Your Guts Hanging Out

(AO3 version)

Billy isn't fucking her but it works really well if everybody and their brother thinks that he is. Well, at first they think he's fucking her. And then because she's an adorable little gremlin and he lets her stick around for a while, everybody and their brother thinks they're dating, even though not a single soul who's ever met either one of them would've expected it.

Chrissy is exactly the opposite of Carol and Nicole and any of the other girls Billy uses to hide his secret - cotton candy and bubblegum voice, like a little girl, cardigans, the whole works. Neil actually seems pleased on the few times they've met, which is nearly enough to put him off all together. Then he remembers 'please, Jason, let go - please, you’re hurting me'. Remembers the vivid ugly color of the healing bruise across her shoulder. The vision of her in his mind he could see in eight or ten years - beaten up and broken, with a little blue-eyed boy clinging to her side just like his mom and he knows he'll never tell her to get lost.

Her parents, on the other hand, hate hate HATE Billy. He parties seven days a week. He drinks. He smokes. He swears. He spits. He wears black leather and faded denim instead of pressed khakis and polyester. His hair is longer than hers. Billy has seen the way her mother looks at Chrissy and recognized the familiar glare of Perpetual Dissatisfaction.

So, yeah he's maybe a little overprotective of her and that's fine because it looks like possessiveness on the outside and if it's not, it's nobody else's fucking business, okay?

He pulls her into his lap at parties, lets her pet his hair and giggle in his ear. If he was capable of loving a girl, he'd pick her if he had any choice, because they know all each other's secrets.

Except for one little, tiny detail.

Until the party at the quarry just before the new school year begins and he sees Harrington with this tall chick from his graduating class in the deep end, standing so close together and he can hear their voices echoing off the high spaces.

"You can do it, Robbie, I gotcha-" all cutesy and goo-goo eyed.

He wants to throw up.

"-just-just hang on," she says nervously, clutching onto Steve’s shoulders.

And Billy knows that he's staring, and it hurts so bad, but he can't look away-

"Oh," Chrissy says quietly, and then reaches down and squeezes his hand.

Billy forces himself to tear his eyes away, though they feel magnetized to Steve Harrington’s bare torso. The urge to keep staring wars with the sick, tight clench in his stomach as he watches this girl put her hands all over him. Shit, he didn’t used to have chest hair. Fuck.

His teeth grind together as his eyes sting, but he forces it back, blinks and looks at Chrissy. He has no way of knowing what his face is doing, but it can’t be good because her eyes crinkle with sympathy at his expression. “So…” she murmurs under her breath, taking his other hand. “That’s your guy, huh?”

“Not mine,” he mumbles, squeezing back as though he can…absorb her straight-ness, maybe? Christ, if only it worked like that… He swallows, his throat so tight that his voice comes out strained and hoarse: “I tried to-to…fuck, I don’t even know, Chris. I was really shitty to him. Wanted to get his attention.”

She swings their joined hands, pulls him in closer and goes up on her tiptoes to give him a hug. To an onlooker, it probably looks quite sweet and romantic. “What happened?”

He leans his face down, as though he is whispering sweet nothings in her ear. “Broke his face,” he mutters, stomach burning anew - with shame this time. “Could’ve killed him if my stepsister didn’t stop me.”

“Billy,” she sighs softly, sad in the way that only she is allowed to get away with - in anyone else, that comment would’ve had him exploding in a rage. For Chrissy, he presses his face to her shoulder and swallows down tears at her disappointment in him. Why she ever expects Billy to be better than is, he’ll never know.

He never thought there would be another person who believed there was any good in him. Having one person who thought he was worth a damn was unbelievable enough. Of course, that too only lasted so long…

No, I don’t want to think about that.

Chrissy draws back, running her hands down his forearms in a soothing motion. “We could go down and talk to them,” she suggests with a smile that shows her dimples. She laces their fingers together and gives him an adorable, suggestive little bounce with her eyebrows. “Be their friends?”

Chrissy has this very strange view of Billy, in his own opinion: she seems to think that because he’s nice to her and she likes him, that obviously if he’s nice to everyone else, they would like him, too. He’s tried to explain that people don’t work like that and that she’s just too nice of a person in general. People are assholes, especially other guys, and as the new kid he could either be the biggest bitch in the room or he could be the biggest asshole and rule them all. With those dogshit options, Billy would always choose to be king. But she’s incredibly stubborn for such a cute little thing and persists in this thinking that he can somehow be a sweet, nice guy.

Actually, now that he thinks of it, maybe he should ask Chrissy if she’s been hanging out with Munson lately, because that sort of thing has to mean she’s on the good shit and real friends share, Chris.

He grimaces, and she pouts, apparently able to read his thoughts just from his expression. With more of a cajoling tone, because she is actually a tiny devil, Chrissy says “Wouldn’t you like it? To be his friend? He might at least smile at you, that way.” A bit wistfully, she adds “He was always really nice to me and the other underclassman, you know. Ronny Donovan tried to pull my pants down in gym class once and he cursed him out and threw a basketball at him. It hit him right in…well, right there.”

From her blush, it’s clear what Chrissy means by ‘right there’. How she got all the way to age seventeen and can’t bring herself to say ‘dick’ out loud is beyond him. “Jesus Christ,” Billy groans. “Now I gotta kick Donovan’s ass, too.”

She laughs at him, like she thinks Billy’s joking or something.

***

“Stay here,” Steve tells Robin, ‘here’ being where she can still touch the bottom of the water. She’s made great progress in her ability to swim - she’s a fast learner, after all - but Steve’s own mother hen instincts freak out at the idea of her in deep water when he can’t actually watch her. He winks. “I’ll get our refreshments.”

He swims back toward the deepest part of the water, where there was still a little blue rubber duckie bobbing up and down. Steve dives, letting his fingers find the long wire of fishing line attached to the duckie and follows it all the way down to the very bottom of this man-made lake, pulling up the bottle of spiced rum attached to the other end and buried there before pushing off for the surface again.

Robbie had been skeptical of this plan to keep it cold without ice, but Steve knew what the fuck he was talking about when it came to parties and all things party adjacent. She brightens as she sees Steve break the surface, making grabby-hands at the bottle as he swims close enough to approach the part of the larger drop-off where it was still possible to stand on the bottom.

Grinning, Steve unscrews the cap and takes a healthy swig, letting the smooth, tingling burn of the rum coat his stomach before offering it to Robin who takes a good sized gulp of her own. “Oof,” she gasps, breathing out the heat of spice and liquor. “Wow.”

“Too much?”

“No, it’s actually really good,” she says, impressed. They get settled in a shallower part of the quarry and Steve lets Robbie wrap her legs around his waist instead of swimming under her own power.

They’re technically about the same height, so she could still reach the bottom here but they were in deep enough water that she would have to put in some effort, and Robbie is a fast learner but there’s no substitution for building up endurance in any physical activity, so he doesn’t really mind helping her cheat a bit - especially once they’ve been drinking for a while and letting Robbie swim by herself could be actively dangerous. Anyway, they're in the water, so it's not like she really weighs anything.

Steve does shift her slightly, so that she’s resting on his hip rather than directly in his lap, though. His dick has enough strange ideas of its own without her help, thanks.

“It’s way too smooth,” he agrees with a laugh. “I’ve gotten really fucked up on things like that, so take it slow. Becky McConnell?”

“God, yeah. I love her hands,” she gushes. “She always has the perfect manicure, it’s great. Debra Lennox?”

“Yes! Don’t you love that-that like glitter skirt she wears with the tights?” Steve sighs. “Amazing. She has such fantastic legs. Tanya Greene?”

“Hm,” she says, taking another swallow and tapping her fingernails on his shoulder while she considers this. “...no.”

“No?!” Steve squawks, outraged. “Her tits are perfect! And her hair-!”

“Is red,” Robin agrees. “That’s why - it freaks me out, dude.”

Confused Steve asks “Do you have a preference for the…erm…the carpet and the drapes?"

Robin laughs at his expression. "It's not that," she says, once she can control her snorting and giggling. "It's the eyelashes."

"Eyelashes," he repeats, wondering if he's somehow gotten a third concussion in the past year.

She groans. "I know! It's so stupid but - y'know how a real blonde or a natural redhead has like…really pale eyelashes? So it almost looks like they don't have any at all?" He nods, taking the bottle from her for a quick swig. "...yeah, that freaks me out. Can't deal with it."

Steve cackles. "You are so weird."

She hums again around another drink, pulling the bottle away from her mouth to whisper "Your boyfriend's here."

Speaking of strange ideas his dick already has. Steve glances in the direction of her gaze and groans, thumping his forehead against her shoulder. "Why did I tell you that?"

"Who else would you tell?" Robin points out.

"Chrissy Cunningham," he says thoughtfully.

Her brows bounce upwards. "You'd tell his girlfriend you wouldn't be opposed to sucking her man's dick?"

"Keep your voice down," he hisses, swatting uselessly at her leg. "No, Robbie - the game. Would you fuck Chrissy?"

She pouts. "You took my turn, asshole! …yeah." Guiltily, she smiles and adds "It's the cheerleader outfit, isn't it?"

"It doesn't hurt," he says with a grin, then quirks one brow, a little smirk still pulling his mouth up on one side. "...and I'm pretty sure she was just staring at your ass."

"She was not!" she complains, though Robin turns to look where Steve was looking in a reverse of their earlier conversation.

Subtly, Steve shifts his position so that she won't have to turn her head so far - except that Robin immediately jerks her face back to his, looking a bit frightened. "Rob?"

Her arms curl around his shoulders, as though Steve is a very large teddy bear she can comfort herself with, and Robin swallows. He grows more concerned when, now pressed closely together like this back to front, he can feel her heart and it's racing. "I think Billy just saw me checking her out," she admits in a whisper, still clutching the back of his neck with both hands. "He looks pissed. Steve…"

Quickly, Steve looks over her shoulder and confirms: Billy and Chrissy are indeed coming this way and he seems to look even more threatening than usual.

Steve’s hands tighten their grip on her legs. He's heard shit- things. About what can happen - what people do to queers they find in their neighborhoods. Men. Women. Boys. Girls.

"I won't let him, Robbie," he promises quietly. "I don't care how good his ass looks in lifeguard shorts."

"Let him what?" she demands, and he can feel how tense her muscles are. He suppresses a wince at the feel of her nails, bitten down though they are, gouging his biceps.

"Doesn't matter, I won't let him. I don't think he'll do anything in front of Chrissy, though." Steve runs a hand down her back, tries to soothe her as best as he can. They can't play I'd Fuck Her anymore with them so close now. Steve hopes to tease her into getting more comfortable, so circles back to an earlier argument. "...I still think it’s Kashmir."

***

They're whispering to each other, all cuddled up against each other and again, Billy feels his stomach rebelling. Sounding like a whiny toddler even to himself, he asks "Do we have to?" He scowls. "She's fucking… touching him. Everywhere. All the time."

"You're jealous," she says lightly.

"Yes," he bites out, teeth clenched.

“Hey, I actually recognize her!” she tells him.

“Yeah?” Even though Billy is pretty sure that she’s an upcoming senior like him and Chrissy, but unlike the rest of his classmates, he hasn’t known 99% of the people in this school for a decade or more and he likes his place at the top of the food chain, so he doesn’t really bother to learn outside of the higher social circles.

“She’s Rae-Rebecca? No! Robin!” Chrissy says, her expression slowly brightening. “Robin Buckley! She’s in the school band. I’ve seen her in the gym sometimes at games.” She sighs a little, head tilting as she gazes at Robin in her little blue and green bikini. “She’s cute.”

Billy darts a sideways glance at her face. He’s…uh, not completely sure that Chrissy is actually straight, but since she herself does not seem aware of that, he decides to be uncharacteristically tactful and keeps his fucking mouth shut.

"Well, maybe you can…I don't know…desensitize yourself?" Chrissy suggests. She carefully tightens up her ponytail as they walk into the water holding hands. If they are going to approach them as a couple trying to make friends with another couple, they will need to maintain even more than the usual level of closeness - especially if Billy can’t manage his jealousy, though she’s too nice to say that out loud.

He grunts, noting that Steve has now noticed them. With great feeling, he says "God, I hope not."

He doesn’t really mind Chrissy laughing at his expense, but he makes a good show of it with a fierce scowl - which of course, only makes her laugh more.

The couple ahead of them looks over their shoulders as he and Chrissy approach, whispering to each other for a moment but get louder and louder as they get closer, until they’re only a few yards away from them as the girl shouts “No! You take that back, you cretin!” right in Steve’s face. "It's Barracuda, it's so obviously Barracuda!"

The bottle of rum drifting away in the water as they shout at each other about…music?

“I'm right, just admit that I’m right once and for all!" he counters. "You know it's Kashmir!"

Robin starts tickling him ruthlessly, making Steve howl, chanting "Barracuda, Barracuda!"

And then Steve gives a shout as he suddenly bursts from the water, standing at his full height, looking so absolutely fucking magnificent with water cascading down his chest and flanks that Billy shrinks down into the quarry to hide the chub he’s sporting.

Steve grabs Robin, lifting her over his fucking head - now is not a good time to start leaking in your short, Hargrove - and while she screams “No, Steve, no!”, drops her right into the water.

Billy whistles. “You’ll be in the dog house for that one, Harrington.”

He looks genuinely puzzled by that assessment. “Huh? What d’you mean?”

Christ, this guy used to be king of the ladykillers? Does he know anything about women?

But Robin comes up laughing, swatting a huge wave of water at him and she shakes her hair from her eyes. “Asshole,” she cackles. “Being wrong doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole!”

“Why is he wrong?” Chrissy asks curiously.

“I’m not,” Steve says smugly, ignoring Robin’s scowl.

"Okay, so what are you so right about?" Billy questions, brow raised and cocky like an asshole. Chrissy smothers a giggle. His posturing and strutting, when you can see through it the way she can, is absolutely adorable.

"Kashmir obviously has the sexiest opening riff in music history," Steve says, with the complete seriousness of someone who both believes this and is intensely passionate about that belief.

Robin, just as passionate and just as certain with her righteousness, growls “It’s BARRACUDA.”

Oh, these two really are a pair of absolute fucking GEEKS.

“You’re…both wrong,” Billy says slowly, tentatively. He doesn’t quite know how to do this whole ‘friendship’ thing with Steve - the other boy never reacts the way he’s expecting and it always leaves Billy with an extra layer of tension to their interactions even beyond the giant boner he sports for him. “Harrington is slightly less wrong, but still wrong.”

Robin, to his further surprise, looks absolutely delighted, standing behind Steve and shaking his shoulders slightly. “Ooooh, a challenger,” she murmurs in that husky, teasing little purr of a voice she has and Jesus fucking Christ, can this girl stop climbing all over him like a goddamn jungle gym? “That’s bold, Mister Hargrove. Let’s hear your defense.”

Why is he getting the feeling that Buckley is teasing him every bit as much as she’s teasing her boyfriend? Apparently neither of them are going to respond to anything the way he expects. “Harrington has the right band, but the wrong song,” he finally says, after a narrow-eyed assessment at the pair of them. “Led Zeppelin is definitely on the money - sexiest of all time, hands down - but you’re really looking for Whole Lotta Love.”

Their expressions both suggest that they are considering this argument with the seriousness of a Harvard Law student studying the Constitution and actually start having a full-on debate with each other like the real fucking nerds they are-

“You are so cute with each other!” Chrissy coos at them, looking enarmored with the lovey-dovey attitude. “Did you guys just start dating?”

Steve and Robin glance at each other, hold eye contact for just a few brief seconds. And then both immediately start laughing. Brushing tears from her eyes, Robin says “Oh, no, no - we aren’t dating.”

Steve smirks and Billy tries really, really hard not to find that sexy. “Yeah, that wouldn’t work out.”

Like a flash of lightning has struck him, Billy suddenly realizes that he actually recognizes this Buckley girl - she looks different right now with her hair pinned up and wearing nothing but that striped bikini, but yeah. Yeah, he’s seen her before. This is the girl who works with Steve at the mall.

Billy’s eyes dart over to her, just because he wants to be sure, completely sure.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

This is the girl with tits on her shoes.  

Billy would’ve put every penny on the two of them batting for opposite teams after meeting her and it’s like a whole cascade of thoughts follow that one single realization, like: Steve knows.

Steve knows about Robin.

He’s seen him with Max and that other girl - Eleanor? Elizabeth? - at the Hawkins Pool. Horsing around. Letting them and the boys use him like a fucking jungle gym. Just like Robin.

The two younger girls flirt with him (Max for sure has a little childhood crush on him) and they make eyes at him - nothing Billy finds too concerning, all things considered. They’re probably too young to even quite understand that they’re doing it and also like… yeah, I get it. Same.  

But Steve does not react to them doing this, which is the main reason Billy has elected to ignore it and leave the whole situation alone even when it’s happening right in front of him. They’re just kids figuring shit out and there’s no harm in them making eyes at him as long as they don’t try anything else with him and Steve acts like a responsible fucking adult about it. And Billy has to admit that he does.

He doesn't flirt, but he does tease, exactly the same as he teases Henderson. Steve lets them climb on him and jump on his back and shit, but Steve’s hands always stay at their arms or their rib cages or the outside of their legs, never anywhere close to the tits, not anywhere near the ass or the inner thigh/crotch area. They’re underage girls and Billy has silently acknowledged that he keeps the ‘no touching’ zone to very appropriate levels.

But Robin is given the exact same consideration, despite being only a year younger than him and, he knows, very attractive for a girl. Now that he’s seen it, Billy realizes that he treats them the same way he treats Robin. Which means that he already knows.

Steve is fully aware of who Robin is and treats her accordingly - like a playmate, rather than his next potential partner.

Fuck, what is this feeling? Billy thinks it might be...hope.