#harringroveson fics

[biillyhargroves]

Wayne Munson doesn’t get it. Not at all. Not one bit. But, then again, he supposes he doesn’t have to. No one is getting hurt, after all. And Eddie, he’s happy. So it can’t be that a big a deal, then, can it?

It starts with the Hargrove boy. Wayne has seen him hanging around town, that car of his announcing his arrival around every street corner, engine idling outside of Melvald’s and the Palace Arcade, tires screeching through Forest Hills in the dead of the night, stuttering over those same dirt roads come morning. And Wayne Munson, he’s not a stupid man. No, sir. Not in the slightest. He’s not blind, either. He knows that his nephew could not afford that fancy guitar, those hulking Marshalls, on the meager allowance Wayne scrounges up each week. No, there’s other income rolling in, that’s for sure and certain. The Hargrove kid is a customer. At least, this is how Wayne explains the nightly visits, until the one early morning he catches the boy scrambling to his Camaro in a pre-dawn haze. He knows that Billy sees him, sees the crooked button-down shirt, the half-zipped fly, the blond curls all mussed and wild in the shadows of the sunrise. The boy says nothing — doesn’t even acknowledge Wayne’s presence, pretends he hasn’t seen the man at all. He crams a cigarette into his mouth and ducks into the driver’s seat and takes off like a bat out of hell.

Eddie, he’s sheepish that morning. He’d watched the whole thing through the window, heart hammering hard in his chest. He was a fidgety mess over breakfast, hands shaking, coffee spilled. Wayne only asked, “Have a good night?”

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie stammered, and he rushed on our the door mumbling something about being late for first period. Wayne shook his head, huffed a laugh. So his boy liked boys — what’s the big deal? Wayne scratched teen pregnancy off his list of fatherly worries, kept calm and carried on. Eddie was Eddie, and Wayne loved him all the same.

The Harrington kid, that was the real curveball. Eddie and Billy had been palling around, getting along just fine, doing all the things that teenage couples do and pretending like they weren’t. They were no choir boys, and Wayne knew this, and they knew that Wayne knew, but their act was amusing all the same. So long as they were careful, so long as they were safe, Wayne didn’t much care what happened behind closed doors. Billy spent the night more often than not and Wayne was steady provider of a good $20 for pizza and beer and whatever else they could buy with the change. He nodded to Billy in the mornings, even helped him repair that stupid car of his after a crash by the old mill. Billy had been quiet but grateful, repeatedly telling Wayne that he could do it all on his own and repeatedly thanking him when Wayne told him that was bullshit and to hand him that there tool. (Eddie had tried to help, bless his heart, but his mechanical knowledge started and stopped in music production equipment; he’d settled for refilling the lemonade pitcher and fetching lunch from the diner down the road.)

But sometime around the spring of ‘86, Steve Harrington entered the mix.

Now, Wayne knew the Harringtons. Knew of them, at least. All hoity toity in their big Loch Nora house. He knew they traveled often and that they had high expectations of the son who scooped ice cream before that godforsaken mall burnt down. Eddie had mentioned Steve in passing. Wayne had chalked him off as a teen movie bully, larger than life until the tassel moved to the other side and they had to set foot in the mythical real world that had hovered over their pretty heads for four long years.

Maybe Steve was just a burnt out golden child on the hunt for some new fix. Maybe he was the disappointment his father always claimed he’d be, sinking low, low, low and self-medicating the trauma away. Or maybe, just maybe, there was something more to his visits to Forest Hills.

He’d snuck around at first, just like Billy had. Slipping in and out and suspecting that no one knew. Wayne, of course, did. He was aware of the goings on of his own home, thank you very much. He’d brushed it all off as nervous rich boy energy. The Harrington kid, he didn’t belong here, and he damn well knew that. He’d spent most of his high school days shitting on the poor kids who came home to vehicles instead of four solid walls, who bought their back-to-school clothes at the army surplus store, never once setting foot inside The Gap. He was out of place.

But it was more than that. Wayne learned this quickly, on a Saturday morning when an early phone call rang him in to an overtime shift at the plant. He’d rolled out of bed and brewed up his coffee and pushed open Eddie’s bedroom door to tell him goodbye. He’d expected Billy, to be quite honest. The boy has shed his shame by then, had cocooned himself in the safety of the Munson trailer. And he was there, back to the wall, body curled around Eddie as if Eddie were a life raft keeping him afloat (and Wayne did make a mental note to check up on the kid, lifeguard the lifeguard as it were, pull the boy ashore if he had to). But it was the boy on Eddie’s other side that gave Wayne pause.

There he was. Steve Harrington. Hair a mess, clad in one of Eddie’s heavy metal tee shirts he’d saved up to buy, one arm thrown across Eddie’s body, finger laced loosely with Billy’s. Eddie slept soundly between them, one arm protectively braced around Billy’s shoulders, the other pillowed behind Steve’s head.

And Wayne hovered in the doorway, taken aback.

But it makes sense, doesn’t it? All the times he’d come home to three of them lounging lazily on the couch. All the times Billy and Eddie had snuck out, a bit more suspicious than they usually were. The sightings of the Harrington boy, all flushed and nervous, always looking over his shoulder, as he sneaked away from the Munson trailer.

And, no, Wayne certainly does not get it.

But he does understand the way Eddie lights up when Steve comes knocking at the door. He understands the way Eddie squeezes Billy’s hand under the table. He understands the little glances shared by Billy and Steve, whole conversations silently exchanged. Individually, these things all make sense to Wayne. Collectively, he supposes they are no different. And so long as Eddie is happy, so long as Eddie smiles the way he does when Billy cracks an unexpected joke or Steve flubs some common idiom, Wayne supposes he doesn’t need to understand anything more.

[krystenreader]

why

Why? Just tell me why are you doing this? Why so cruel? These are my comfort babies! Why did you kill them? And then I am searching for that particular phrase and... BAM! It is gone! Where is that moment keeping me okay?! Where I am asking?! I feel insane like all of these stories were made up in my head and never existed:(((

[waldos-art]

Come and Get Me - By: Rindecision

My second collab for the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang with @rindecisions

I was so lucky to get to work with two authors for this image! Rindecision's story was a blast to get to read ahead of time and share ideas together. Do you want some boxing? Some sexy sexy but actually they're boxing boxing? Check it out!!

[ihni]

Smooth Sailing

Written for the MetalSandwich Movie Mania (@now-showing-at-the-hawk-events), day 3: sci fi.

(Pacific Rim AU)

~~~

“Do you know why I called you in here?”

Eddie Munson, who did in fact not know why Jim Hopper – a.k.a. ‘Hop’, the Marshal of the Indiana Shatterdome – had called him into his office, but suspected that it might have had something to do with a prank he may or may not have pulled, grinned.

“You wanted to bask in the glory of my devilish charm?”

His attempt at levity was met with a blank face. Not even a twitch. Damn. Eddie must be in real trouble.

His grin dimmed a bit, and Hopper continued, as if Eddie hadn’t spoken, “How long have you worked here?”

Shit, that sounded suspiciously like the beginnings of a ‘you’re fired’ speech.

“In the Dome? Seven years. Listen –”

“How many trainee pilots have you helped train over the years?”

Eddie couldn’t afford to get fired. No one else would hire him, and the Dome was his home.

“I don’t know … seventy? Eighty? Hop, whatever you think I did, I didn’t do it, or if I did, I didn’t mean it –”

“And how many of those went on to pilot a Jaeger?”

Eddie’s heart sank. He was getting fired. 

“Five.”

Eddie wasn’t the smartest when it came to numbers, but he guessed that wasn’t a very good turnout.

The worst thing was that if they threw him out of the Dome, they’d throw uncle Wayne out, too. Uncle Wayne, who took care of Eddie during the worst years of his life, and who Eddie had promised to take care of in turn for the rest of his life. Eddie’s job at the Dome had ensured that he could keep that promise, and now he was going to lose it.

“Five,” Hopper repeated without inflection, bringing Eddie’s attention back at him. “Do you know how many trainee pilots we have to teach before we find and train a full-fledged, drift-compatible Jaeger pilot?”

Eddie just shook his head.

“About two hundred.” Huh, that seemed … high. Higher than Eddie had expected, at least. “Out of two hundred of our best prospects who start their training in the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, only one usually move on to pilot a Jaeger in combat. Yet out of the seventy-three trainees that you have had during your time with us, five people have joined those ranks – and with pretty good results, too. What do you have to say about that?”

“Uh,” Eddie said. That didn’t sound so bad actually, when he put it like that. “Is this where I ask for a raise?”

~~~

Read the rest on AO3 here

[writer-in-theory]

"there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword, he will tear your city down..."

"there will come a poet whose weapon is his word, he will slay you with his tongue..."

"there will come a ruler whose brow is laid with thorn, smeared with oil like david's boy..."

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

yeah you'll have to pry steddilly throuple from my cold dead hands

[aflores98]

I think I would love to read a fic, where like Billy and Eddie don't get involved in the upside-down stuff until much late and only after, for some reason, Steve has disappeared and the party is looking for him.

So they get this almost legend-like version of a warrior from the kids. A brave, relentless young man who tries his best from the adults but silence from the other teens, almost a forlorn but protective vibe.

Until later on, after saving lives and the Horrors™ of Hawkings, the other teens start opening up. They start talking about a King who laid down his crown for love, a lonely boy who craved love and family so much he would risk hell to keep them safe, about an ice prince who rebuilt his entire self because he wanted to be better.

So they learn piece by piece about this mysterious guy who means so much to their new family, and they start holding some respect to his name.

That's until they meet the Pretty Boy™ from Hawkings, while he's hatching creatures away and covered in blood.

And then they both go: How did y'all not say he was Babygirl Doe eyes?

[plistommy]

505 | Harringrove (+Steddie)

[stillbeatingheart]

thought about burning the past

Also on Ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

^~^

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter two

[weird-an]

It's a stupid idea to get Billy to tell him what's going on. But Hopper just can't take it anymore. It's so obvious and Billy still lies about it. Even today, on Valentine's Day. Jim is sick of it. So he decides to call them out.

"Same rules for you as for El," Jim says, crossing his arms. "The door stays open. Three inches."

Billy scowls at him, cheeks turning a little red - probably not all from anger. "Three inches? Are you fucking serious? We're just hanging out."

Next to him Eddie breaks out into laughter while Steve rubs his neck, avoiding Jim's gaze.

"What's so funny?" Jim asks, trying not to grin and wondering if it's too late to arrest Eddie for the joint behind his ear. This fucker is ruining his whole plan.

"Nothing," Steve says, quickly. "We'll go to Billy's room now - and leave the door open. Three inches."

"Yeah," Eddie says. "Only Billy is getting more than three in-"

Billy puts his hand on Eddie's mouth, whole face now as red as the roses Jim bought for Joyce today.

Great, this plan kind of worked and backfired at the same time. Jim's own cheeks are burning.

"You better close the door when you're with your boyfriends," he just says. Which is what he should have said in the first place.

"Alright, Jim." Steve is also blushing and he takes Eddie's hand and drags him towards Billy's room. Eddie is snickering the whole way.

"That's not how I wanted you to find out." Billy snorts.

"Guess that's on me," Jim says, still a bit uncomfortable. "Have a nice... date."

Billy's flush gets even darker. "Have fun with Joyce," he mumbles and goes to his room.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Chief," Eddie yells as he closes the door behind him. Jim is relieved he's staying over at Joyce's tonight.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

The porch light has come on, pooling on the cement along with the light shining through the sliding glass door. The chairs have inched closer and closer to the house in the absence of the sun, and the pool has long-since emptied of people.

Billy leans back on one of his hands, sitting sideways in a lounge chair with his legs spread out, the warm bottom of a bottle of beer resting against his bare thigh.

There’s still heat in his skin from earlier that afternoon. Sweat-slick and sticky from sunscreen that will take two shower’s-worth of scrubbing to fully remove. No tan lines whatsoever. Gentle bite marks and bruises left in tender areas that will surely ache to touch tomorrow.

For now, he’s looking forward to stepping under a stream of water in the master bathroom upstairs.

The water always stays hot longer at the Harrington castle.

He decided a few hours ago that once he’s finished his last beer, he’ll leave.

He’ll leave and he won’t come back.

Naturally, he’s been sipping at it for what feels like hours now. Swirling the bottle to check how much time he has left, letting dread pool hot and heavy in the pit of his belly at the thought of putting the neck to his lips for the last time.

The conversation goes on around him as usual.

Eddie talks about his latest gig. Jonathan and Tommy both bring up their girlfriends respectively. Jason laments about classes, Argyle suggests that he take a semester or two off, and Steve offers to get another round of drinks.

He pats a hand against Billy’s knee when he doesn’t respond, and the blond takes a moment to actually look up at where he stands over the lounger.

Everyone is looking at him. Which means that Steve must have tried a few times to get his attention.

Eddie lolls his head against Billy’s naked thigh from where he’s sat on the floor, fixing him with big, brown, bloodshot eyes.

“Y’okay, big red?” he hums. His hair is cold and damp where it splays over Billy’s steaming skin. He eyes a mark left near Billy’s hip, red and deeply indented by a set of teeth, and smiles. “Lost your buzz?”

Billy shakes his head. Swirls the bottle in his hand and chews his lip.

He’s getting choked up. He can feel the lump building in his throat, matching the subtle sting in his eyes and the thrumming in his head.

This is exactly why he needs to leave.

“I don’t—“ he says, and his voice comes out with a shake. It has any remaining smiles vanishing from the sea of people around him. He clears his throat before he speaks again. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

For a while now, these little hangouts were just what he needed. To come and be held by doting hands, kissed by loving mouths, and cherished like he’s something special. Brought up to the edge over and over until his eyes run out of tears, and afterwards feel the warm press of other aching bodies against his own to help ground him. Bring him back.

He must not be alone in feeling this way, because when he lifts his gaze from the wet floor, he’s met with various looks of confusion and sadness.

More sadness than he was expecting.

Steve crouches beside the lounger and sets a careful hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing comfortingly back and forth.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” he coos. “Did something happen? Are you alright?”

A shaky breath escapes Billy, and suddenly all of the guys go rigid. Eddie shoots upright, sitting straight and looking up with his brows furrowed, and splays a hand over Billy’s inner thigh just above his knee.

“Don’t cry, sweetness, just breathe.”

Billy looks away and closes his eyes when the tears finally spill over.

“Was I too rough?” Jason asks.

“Did something make you uncomfortable?” Tommy adds.

Quickly, they’re speaking over each other, not one question intelligible from the next, and Steve shushes them sternly.

When he turns his attention back to Billy, his expression is soft and understanding.

“Talk to us, baby,” he pleads. “Take a second to breathe, alright? There’s no rush.”

The palms resting against his skin are comforting. He breathes softly, shakily, and sheds a few more tears before he relaxes enough to exhale a tension-filled sigh.

If his skin was hot before, it’s blistering now. He wipes his eyes with the heel of his palm and sniffles.

“I’m okay,” he says, and there’s a slight air of relief around him afterward. “I just… I can’t keep doing this, y’know? I keep saying it’ll be the last time, and then I keep fucking coming back.”

Billy stares down at the last sip of his beer. Thinks about slender hands combing over his torso, grabbing his hips. Tangling in his hair and pulling.

He thinks of kisses pressed to his neck and fingers tucking under the band of his swim shorts, slipping them off to be lost near the tree line. He thinks of the heated pool water and how cool it felt against his skin. How cool it felt in contrast to the hot mouths finding purchase anywhere they could.

“How come?” Eddie asks.

He looks almost hurt, and when Billy glances around, he has to look away again because the expression is on every damn face he sees.

So, he takes a deep breath, and tightens his fist around the neck of the bottle.

“It’s nothing anyone’s done,” he prefaces. “I’m just starting to want… more? Getting passed around like a bong at a smoke sesh used to do it for me, but it’s not anymore, and it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid—“

“I don’t feel like this,” Billy rasps. He swallows thickly as his eyes well up again. “I don’t like feeling like this. Needy and pathetic and like I can’t just have sex.”

He’s not looking, but he can feel the boys move closer. He can hear the movement, just barely audible over the pounding in his ears.

“You aren’t pathetic, Bill,” Steve reassures.

“It’s perfectly normal to want more than just sex,” Jonathan adds, much, much closer now. “You’re normal for wanting that.”

Billy shakes his head and exhales a shaky breath. Another hand smooths over his forearm, squeezing reassuringly. It helps even out his breath again.

“I’m not normal for wanting what I want.”

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Steve asks.

After a beat, Billy cracks his eyes open. Huffs a laugh to himself at how crowded the space beside the lounger has become, and fixes the brunet with a look.

Steve, sharp as he is, immediately raises his brows in understanding.

“Oh, Billy,” he croons. “I’m sure we could—“

“Sure we could what? Half of you fucks have girlfriends, and it would never work out anyway. Seven is a crowd.” The realization seeps through each thick skull in a matter of seconds, it seems. Billy fights the urge to scoff. “See? It’s stupid.”

Out of all of them, Tommy is the only one to laugh. He snickers and leans his elbow onto Jason’s shoulder, which earns a confused and hurt look from Billy.

“Of course you’d want more boyfriends than you can count on one hand,” he sighs fondly. “Mister blue-eyed princess needs extra love and attention? Who could’ve guessed?”

What he says earns a few chuckles. Even Steve spreads a smile and squeezes Billy’s arm where his hand still rests.

“You do need a lot of constant spoiling,” Steve adds amusedly.

“So high maintenance that you’re crying and freaking us all out ‘cause you like us,” Jason chuckles.

The laughter proceeds and Billy pouts. Eddie picks himself up and sits beside him on the lounger, tucking a curl behind his ear and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I think it’s safe to say you have these boys wrapped around your little finger,” he hums. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I heard Hagan alone drop about a hundred L-words today. He doesn’t even say that shit to Carol.”

“I do too,” Tommy huffs.

“Yeah? When?”

“On… Valentine’s Day? Y’know, special occasions.”

He flushes red and looks away when Billy smiles at him, crossing his arms. Jason pats a hand on his back.

“Well, now I actually feel kinda stupid,” Billy huffs.

“So you’re a little blond and a little boy-crazy? We already knew that,” Argyle says.

There’s another wave of chuckles, and now Billy’s really smiling.

When he looks around, he doesn’t feel like everything is so out of reach anymore. Literally.

He exhales a relieved sigh, shifting in his seat and grimacing at the grimy feeling of his skin now that he’s had more time to dry off.

“Gonna run me a shower, Harrington?” he lilts.

Steve chuckles and stands up, holding his hand out.

“Promise there won’t be any more crying?”

The blond takes his hand and stands up as well, snorting when Steve sets his free hand on his waist and pulls them hip-to-hip.

“I promise.”

“Good.”

They share a kiss, parting not a moment later when Eddie pushes himself up and runs to the back door.

“I call first round of shower sex!” he yells.

Billy simply quirks an eyebrow, then tilts his head to the side in consideration. The other guys are all quickly scrambling inside. Jason’s hands fit around Eddie’s waist when they’re about halfway through the living room, and the brunet struggles momentarily until his back is pulled flush with Jason’s chest.

“We all know you don’t shower otherwise, Munson,” Jason teases.

He licks a stripe up the curve of Eddie’s neck, and it takes less than a second for them to topple over onto the couch, hands roaming all over each other as Eddie fails to sass back.

Argyle and Jonathan make off towards the guest bathroom, stripping down in the hall along their way, and Tommy is left standing in the doorway, leaning his arm against the frame.

“I’ll go get it warmed up,” he says with a wink.

Then it’s just Billy and Steve outside.

It’s quiet now, save for the chirping of crickets. They’re still pressed together. Steve rubs his thumbs against Billy’s hips mindlessly. Leans forward and just barely brushes his lips against his ear.

“We’ll figure it out,” he coos. “But for now, let’s go get clean, yeah?”

Billy glances down at his free hand briefly. Swirls the contents of the bottle before setting it on the side table beside him and breathing in deep. Like the oppressive weight is gone from his body.

He feels like he’s damn near floating when he meets Steve’s gaze again. They both spread goofy grins not a moment later.

“Yeah, Stevie. Let’s go.”

[biillyhargroves]

I see your "Steve needs the planets aligned to sleep" and raise you "Steve is so used to hearing his boyfriends' heartbeats from sleeping beside/between them that one night they have to change routine and Steve is Big Mad about it"

you can't just say this to me, you know I have to write it.

no sleep (fic requests open)

The bed is still warm when Steve wakes. He curls against it, breathes in the lingering scent of Aquanet and cigarette smoke, traces of Billy left in his wake.

There's a note on the refrigerator door, tacked down by an AC/DC magnet, a reminder that Billy has left to help Max and El move into their new off-campus apartment. The trip has been on the calendar for weeks, ever since Max called to ask for Billy's help. He'd offered for Steve to come along, but work demanded that he stay put. The little red light on the answering machine beckons Steve, Eddie's voice crackling through the speaker when he hits play.

"Hey, baby. Sorry I didn't get to call last night. We ran pretty late. I didn't want to wake you guys. I was hoping to catch you. I know Billy's probably gone by now." There's a pause. Eddie sounds tired. He's across the country, eight hours a day hunkered in a recording studio with the band. It sounds like he yawns before he says, "I'll talk to you later, okay?" Another pause, another yawn, and Eddie says, "I love you." before the line clicks off. The robotic voice of the machine announces that there are no new messages.

Steve pictures Eddie hanging up the phone, stumbling off to bed. He must be sound asleep already. He pictures Billy, too, on the road with the windows down and the radio cranked as high as it'll go, dashboard drumming his way to West Lafayette.

It is rare that the three of them spend time apart. In fact, Steve cannot remember the last time all three of them were pulled in separate directions. Even when Corroded Coffin tours, Steve and Billy do their best to travel with Eddie. If they can't, the two of them are home together, Eddie on speaker phone for late night check-ins. Steve is not used to being alone. Even brewing his morning coffee feels strange without another person to pour a cup for. There's a washed mug on the drying rack by the sink — Billy's from earlier in the morning. Steve takes it, uses it for his own coffee, tries to quell his nerves. Why does he feel so strange? He's a grown man, and so are they. They will both be home soon enough; he will not be alone for long.

Still, that strange anxiety follows Steve throughout the day. He stuffs it down, tries to keep himself busy, until he's home in the evening the phone rings.

"Hey, hon," Billy says when Steve picks up. "Just checking in."

There's music on in the background, the kind of soft pop that the girls have gotten into lately. He can hear voices, Max and El debating which cabinet should house the plates and which is best for cups. They dim and Steve pictures Billy shifting away, perhaps slipping around some corner.

Steve pins the phone between his shoulder and ear and says, "Hey. Everything good over there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's all good. The place isn't a shithole, at least." From another room, Steve can hear Max chide Billy. He must pull the phone away because he sounds distant when he laughs and tells her to mind her own business. They joke for a moment, that back-and-forth sibling banter that Steve knows Billy has been missing, and then Billy returns to the phone.

"High praise," Steve whistles. "What time are you heading out?"

"That's the thing," Billy says, and Steve can't help it — he feels worried. He sucks in his breath, hopes Billy can't hear his nerves through the line. "I think I'm crashing here tonight. I just want to make sure they're settled, you know? There's still some shit to unpack. I don't want leave them with a mess."

Steve is quiet for a beat and then catches himself, overcorrects, "Sure. Yeah, of course. Duh. Of course you're staying."

It's Billy's turn to sound worried when he says, "You okay?"

"Of course," Steve says too quickly. He takes a breath, squeezes his eyes shut, pinches the bridge of his nose. Why is this bothering him so much? He should be glad that Billy is getting time with sister, glad that he cares enough to make sure she's safe and settled at her new place. These are good things. But selfishly, Steve had been looking forward to curling up beside Billy that night. It's been hard enough with just the two of them, the bed feeling too big without Eddie. Steve hasn't slept without at least one of them at his side, doesn't know if he can handle being without them both. Selfishly, Steve wants Billy to hear his anxiety, to hop in the car and come home to him. He swallows these feelings, says, "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Billy presses, and Steve thinks about telling the truth, thinks about telling Billy that he needs him here, that he wants Billy beside him when he goes to sleep tonight.

Instead, Steve says, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

Billy doesn't sound convinced. Still, he says, "Okay." He pauses. Steve can hear a TV flick on in the background, can hear El ask Billy if he has any preference. He asks her to give him a minute and then says, "You tell me if that changes, alright?"

"I will," Steve promises, taking down the phone number that Billy reads out to him, adding it to the list they've got pinned to the cork board by the sink. "I love you," Steve tells Billy when he can sense the call ending, can hear the girls vying for his attention in the background.

He can hear Billy's smile when he says, "I love you, too."

Eddie calls much later. Steve is on the couch, flipping through channels, bored of absolutely everything on television, when the phone rings. Steve mutes the TV and answers with a sleepy, "Hey."

"Hi," Eddie says, sounding surprised. "I didn't expect you to still be awake. It's crazy late, baby. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Steve lies. The truth, of course, is that he'd tried to go to bed at his usual time and had spent a good hour tossing and turning before giving in and retreating the couch, desperate for a distraction. The truth is that the bedroom felt too big and too cold and that every little sound grated on Steve's nerves. He'd start to drift off only to hear the air conditioner stutter or the pipes gurgle or the upstairs neighbor stomp across the floor. The pillows didn't smell as strongly of hairspray as they should, and there wasn't enough warm beneath the covers. Steve wanted Billy, or Eddie, or both of them. Steve swallows down these feelings and simply tells Eddie, "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, baby," Eddie says. "Sorry I've been M.I.A. I meant to call earlier. How's Billy? Is he home yet? I bet he passed out already, huh?"

"He's still at Max's," Steve explains, absently toying with the frayed threads of the couch cushion beside him, the spot where Billy would be if he were home. "Decided to stay over, make sure the girls are all settled in. He's coming home tomorrow."

"Oh," Eddie says. "Yeah. That makes sense." He's quiet for a moment before he asks, "You sure you're okay?"

Just like with Billy, Steve thinks about telling Eddie the truth. He doesn't feel okay, and he thinks about saying so. On the other hand, he doesn't want to come across as needy. He doesn't want to be the reason that Eddie or Billy drop important things. He doesn't need them here, not really. He wants them, wants their arms around him, wants the security of their heartbeats on either side of him, the warmth of their skin against his. Steve sighs and says, "I'm good. Just tired."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees. "Yeah, I feel that. You get some sleep, okay?"

"You, too," Steve says, because of course Eddie is tired, is probably more tired than he is. Steve rubs his eyes, and he hears Eddie yawn. "Go sleep," Steve tells him.

"I'm going," Eddie says sleepily. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Steve feels lonelier when Eddie hangs up the phone. He keeps the receiver to his ear for a few moments after, thinking about calling back, telling Eddie that he didn't mean it, that he's not okay. He thinks about calling Billy, too. But he doesn't want to wake up Max or El just to talk to Billy, to whine to his boyfriend about being alone.

Are they missing him the way Steve's missing them? Eddie's so exhausted, Steve imagines the loneliness must not phase him. He must tumble into bed and fall right out. And Billy, he can sleep anywhere, circumstances be damned. Steve has watched him fall asleep during concerts, curled up in the breaks between bands, tucked away backstage while waiting for Corroded Coffin to go on.

Steve sighs. He shuts off the TV on his way into the bedroom, crawls into bed and tries, again, to sleep. He doesn't know how long he lays there, in the dark, annoyed at every little sound keeping him awake.

The sky is a hazy almost-blue when he hears the front door open. Steve is twilighting, but still far from asleep. He groggily raises his head as hushed voices drift from the hall. The bedroom door opens, bags are dropped on the floor.

"What's going on?" Steve asks. The mattress beside him dips down. Eddie smells like cool air and cigarette smoke; he smooths back Steve's hair, kisses his temple, doesn't even bother changing out of his clothes before slipping into bed beside him.

"We were worried about you," Eddie says softly, arms around Steve's waist. He nuzzles his face against Steve's neck, his warm breath tickling Steve's skin.

"We?" Steve asks.

"You're a bad liar," Billy tells him. He tucks himself beside Steve, too, his arms secure around Steve's middle. He kisses Steve's forehead before tucking Steve's head beneath his chin.

"What are you guys doing?" Steve asks. He's still tense between them, confused and wondering if perhaps this is a dream. Billy holds him a little tighter, and Eddie snuggles a little closer, and they feel too real for his brain to have conjured up.

"If you want us home," Billy says sleepily, his eyes already closing, his fingers trailing lazily up and down Steve's spine, "you just have to say so."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, so close to Steve that his lips graze Steve's skin, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles over Steve's hip. "Next time just tell us the truth, okay?"

"I didn't want to bother you guys," Steve admits sheepishly. He can't help it, though. He melts against him, can already feel his exhaustion tugging at his bones. He yawns, settles between Billy and Eddie, lets them hold him.

"You're not a bother," Eddie tells him.

"Besides," says Billy, "don't you think we'd rather sleep home, too?"

Steve wants to cry. He nuzzles against Billy's chest, relishes the feel of Eddie curled up behind him; happily sandwiched between them, the only thing he think to say is a tiny, sleepy, "Thank you."

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Last Sentence Tag Game

Was tagged by @ihni last week and am finally getting around to it 🙈but better late than never. Thank you for the tag.

rules: in a new post, share the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

"My real name's Eugene," Eddie admits when Billy plunges under the water looking for an escape. "I go by Eddie because the kids at the orphanage used to make fun of it except Billy, but his first name is Wilbur, so it would be a real pot and kettle situation." Eddies ramble. Billy comes up from the water just in time to glare at him.

Tagging if they want to participate @yikesharringrove, @rascheln, @billyharringson, @adelacreations, @welikeclownsinthishouse, @billyharringson,@ghostlynimbus, obviously I'm not tagging as many words as there are, join in if you want.

[baby0possum]

I need to have a little vent for a moment. This is going to talk about adult books so if you’re a kid or aren’t in to that don’t keep going. Also I’m relatively new to using tumblr and I think I have all of one follower (shoutout to you!) so I’m not really sure who will see this (because I admittedly don’t know how this works yet). I just need to put this out in the universe somewhere. I saw something earlier talking about how smutty books are becoming more mainstream and that bothered this person because people should be reading more than just “spicy” books. Which to me is a terrible take but okay. The part that really got my goat though was how they made the observation that this has led to more smut books coming out and some of them aren’t written any better than fanfic. If someone doesn’t like smut or want to read fanfic fine. But to imply that a book is somehow supposed to be superior to fanfic because the author had the idea and follow through to have it published? Absolutely not. I have been reading romance novels since 2010 and I have been reading exclusively m/m romance since 2013/2014. In those 13 years I have come across some really terrible published books. Also some of the best most beautiful things I have read were written by fanfic authors about Harringrove, Harringroveson, or Victuuri. I would even argue that to write fan fiction in some ways can be more difficult. To write a story of your own creation while keeping to the minutiae of a character that you didn’t create and everyone knows is absolutely mind boggling. So shout out to all you fanfic writers who I love. I see you and I love you!

[ihni]

Okay so I read a fic (in another fandom) that made me think, and this morning I woke up with ready-made fic idea in my head which I will ABSOLUTELY NOT WRITE, I have too many WIPs already, so I'll just ... write it all out here and then hope that's enough to get it out of my head.

So! Harringroveson-ish. Very rough, train-of-thought style.

Imagine Eddie and Steve smoking together and hooking up on the regular, because they both live in a small town and it's difficult and risky to find another guy who's willing to fool around in small-town Hawkins. So they've been doing it for a while, and they have fun and like each other kind of a lot and are comfortable with each other and all even though they keep it on the downlow for obvious reasons.

And then Billy Hargrove rolls into town, and he's mesmerizing and both Steve and Eddie can't really keep away from him. But Billy's acting so über straight that surely, none of them have a chance, right? So they may talk about him when they're together (for the Thrill or Sexytimes of it, idk), but they don't really think they have a chance. Until they start realizing that Billy's eyes ... wanders, if he thinks no one is watching. So they start talking about it, about trying to see if they can seduce him to the gay side of Hawkins, and it's mostly a joke between them, to get the other riled up when they're together; talking about what they'd do to him if they could. Because Billy's always taking girls out, and he's got quite the reputation - SURELY he's got a lot of sexual experience and would be up for whatever, right?

And like, they both think that THEY'd be the one to succeed to sway Billy over. Steve thinks that since he's the former King Steve and plays sports with Billy and they hang out in the same circles, of course he'd have luck with the guy than Eddie, but Eddie claims that with the music Billy listens to and the car he's got, he's obviously got more in common with Eddie than Steve ...

So they make a bet. Mostly as a joke, but a bet nonetheless; Which one of them will bed Billy first?

Meanwhile, Billy is of course secretly gay and has been moved to a closed-minded town against his will by his abusive dad for being found out just kissing another boy, and even though he's secretly eyeing both the former King of Hawkins High and the King of the Freaks, he does not fool himself into thinking something will happen. He can't allow himself to show a single sign of his preferences. So he takes girls out on dates, a string of them, and he parties and he flirts and he wraps Hawkins around his thumb, and only shows the careful mask he has created, and not an ounce of the real Billy, because he wants to live until graduation, thank you very much.

He had planned to just keep his head above water and survive until he could get the hell out of town, but that gets increasingly difficult when the two guys who he's been eyeing start to approach him. Trying to be friends? Trying to throw him off? Or ... check out the competition? Billy's not sure what's going on here, but he knows it's messing with his mask and his composure. Harrington didn't use to play this hard in gym, did he? Rubbing up on Billy like he is, now. Didn't use to smile at him and talk to him and like, stretch out in the shower after practice. And Munson had kept his distance until then, so what's up with the way he suddenly appears whenever Billy's sneaking off for a smoke, offering a good price on weed and inviting Billy to see his band play?

So, Steve and Eddie do their best to seduce Billy, mostly as a challenge between the two of them, but when they notice that Billy gets flustered when they touch him or lets his gaze for a little too long when they do things like stretch or lick their lips and so on, they start to suspect that this could actually happen. It's not so far-fetched as they might have thought. So they talk, and find it very exhilerating to imagine that maybe they both actually stand a chance, here ... but of course, the bet is still on. Who will have him first?

Billy's only human. And gay. And desperately alone in this sea of people, since no one knows the real him. So he's falling for it, even if he's hesitant and afraid (because of Neil, because of what if this is an elaborate prank, and also partly because all that he's done with a boy thus far has been kissing (Your choice as to what he has actually done with girls)).

Maybe both Eddie and Steve are getting bolder, right about now. Putting the moves on Billy, so that there's no mistaking their intentions. And Billy is tempted, so very tempted - but also so very scared. He backs off, or draws back, or maybe stammeringly mentions that his dad would kill him if he found out. "He's not gonna find out," whoever is with him says, but Billy bites his lip. Hesitates. Shakes his head.

But like, of course, eventually one of them - Steve or Eddie, your pick - succeeds. Billy gives in, gives up, throws caution to the wind. He gets to sleep with at least one of his crushes, and it's GOOD, it's so much better than he could have ever imagined sex to be and he can't believe he's so lucky that he gets to have this.

And of course whoever won the bet is thrilled. Both because they got to fuck Billy (who they are realizing that they LIKE, just like they like their other boyfriend), but also because of the thrill of winning the bet. So after, directly after or the morning after, your choice, they hurry back to their boyfriend to gloat about their win. Maybe they have to look for him, though, so they don't find him right away. Because of course for PLOT REASONS we need Billy to be at that place, too - feeling light, happy, and for the first time not feeling like a prisoner in this town - and overhearing. Overhearing the gloating, the "I won our bet" and "yup, fucked him good" and the "he was so sweet, you should have seen him". And then, for added angst, of course Billy sees the two of them kissing, making out. Looking very busy and into each other.

Billy should be angry, but he's so shocked and gutted that he can't bring up even a spark of anger.

And I want them to spot him there. Realize, by the paleness of his face, that he heard every word. That he thinks they've used him, made fun of him - and they kind of HAVE. But when they break apart and turn horrified eyes on him, Billy turns and runs. They go after him, try to stop him, but oh THERE's that anger (bubbling up to hide the HURT), so he rips himself out of their grip and snarls at them not to TOUCH HIM. Maybe he yells at them, for using him and stringing him along and making him think he meant something when really he was just a pawn, just a game. Maybe he doesn't say ANYTHING, just blinks away tears and leaves. I don't know which is worse.

But he leaves, and they feel horrible. They realize that they fucked up BIG TIME, they should have approached this differently, they never should have made that bet. They talk (again) and realize that they actually DO both like him, and they want him with THEM, all three o f them together. They decide to try to make things right, somehow. Explain to Billy, grovel at his feet etc.

But oh, it's not that easy of course. Because Neil has gotten wind of Billy being seen with some boy (maybe a neighbor saw him when either Eddie or Steve reached for his hand or pressed a kiss to his cheek or something, in the late stages of the seduction), and he punishes Billy for it. Severly. Billy's home from school for a week, recovering. Steve and Eddie thinks he's avoiding them, but eventually put their foot down like, enough is enough, if he doesn't come to us we'll come to him, so they go to his house.

Thankfully, Neil isn't home. But Billy is. And when he opens the door, still black and blue, they are horrified. Billy is afraid that anyone will see them and tells them to go, and even scrapes up some anger and tells them that this is their fault, which shuts down their attempts at apologies, and then slams the door in their face.

Eddie and Steve do some more talking, maybe some minor stake-outs. Realizes that when Billy said his dad would kill him, he meant it, and if the man knew what Billy had done, Billy might be lying dead in a ditch somewhere. They feel bad (as they should, and also because this is my fic and I live for the guilt).

In the end, I think they'd have to find a way to get Billy out of his abusive household, as a way to prove they are sorry, and that they're serious about him. Maybe they set something up to make sure Neil gets caught in the act, maybe they involve the police, maybe they blackmail the man or threaten him somehow. I don't care how. But they get Billy SAFE. And THEN they grovel. As they damn well should.

And I hope that eventually, they manage to convince Billy that in fact, they were BOTH into him from the start, and the bet was just a way for them to dare to act on it. They both wanted him, with them both. And they still want him.

And maybe Billy might just be lonely enough to eventually believe them.

[lostlimerence]

Wanting to enjoy a bit of steddie fic (just like I do harringrove, mungrove and harringroveson) but the prevalence of Billy hate/2D evil monster, villian or evil ex-Billy in a good chunk of them has really turned me away from the ship as a stand-alone….