#steve: this is my boyfriend billy

[fanatics4l]

we need more feral boyfriend billy and his mediating, tired boyfriend, steve. there's just billy being some short, angry little guy in public- cursing everyone out and pouting super hard. he thinks he's the shit. he thinks everyone is a piece of shit. he stomps around everywhere and steve just silently walks behind him with a tired but fond expression on his face. people can practically see the invisible leash that steve holds. billy is like one of those dogs that drag their owner around. they're the ones walking the owner.

steve is always apologizing on billy's behalf like "sorry my boyfriend didn't go on his evening walk yet" and "sorry he growled at you, that's just how he is"

billy's the kind of guy to climb up steve and just koala wrap his limbs around him. the kids come over and they just see billy wrapped around steve's shoulders on the living room couch.

[rafescurtainbangz]

[manwrre]

steve: you’re the most jealous man i know.

billy: you know other men?

[unfinishedslurs]

RIP Mike Wheeler’s heterosexuality

“Is being gay contagious?”

Steve stares at his phone groggily before putting it back against his ear. “…Mike?”

“Is it?”

“It’s three in the fuckin’ morning is what it is.” He rubs his nose, Mike’s words finally catching up to his brain. “Seriously, Mike? No it’s not fucking contagious, you’re not gonna get the gay disease or whatever from me. I promise you’ll keep liking girls.”

He’s a little hurt, even though he knows the question is innocent. They’ve been asking a lot of questions, like the inquisitive little assholes they are, but none of them had seemed like they weren’t okay with it. Until now.

“…that’s not what I meant,” Mike says. Steve realizes that his voice sounds shaky, even over the phone.

“Then what—“ he cuts himself off, realizing halfway through his bitching that there was only one reason Mike would call about this. “Oh.”

“Can you pick me up?”

“It’s three in the morning,” he repeats, even as he starts wondering where he left his keys. “Your mom…”

“Steve,” Mike pleads. “Please?”

He sighs. “I’m on my way.”

Mike is sitting on his doorstep when he pulls up, head in his hands. Steve doesn’t have to get out of the car, he stalks to the passenger door with all the vitriol of a boy with too many emotions to hold in, and wrenches the door open hard enough that Steve worries he’s going to break it.

“Watch it, noodle arms,” he says, trying to pretend this is normal. Maybe if he acts like it’s not well past midnight, Mike will relax.

It doesn’t work. Mike slumps in his seat, not bothering with the seatbelt. “Can you just drive?”

Steve drives. Doesn’t really know where they’re going, but it doesn’t matter. Just away seems to suffice.

He eventually pulls into a side road

“I’m scared to even touch another guy now! Because apparently hugging is gay when you’re older, and so is sleeping in the same bed, and telling your friends you love them, and…and I’m fucking scared all the time, ‘cause what if they’re right? How do they know? How can they tell by just fucking looking at me? It’s bullshit!”

“Shit, kid,” Steve says, heartbroken. “Shit. C’mere.”

He pulls him close, and Mike turns his face into the crook of his neck, shaking. His shirt collar starts to get damp.

“I don’t know what to do,” he cries. “I thought it was normal, I thought everyone was just…so scared all the time, and we just didn’t talk about it. But then you said that thing about being afraid and pushing it down, and I didn’t— I tried to ignore it. I tried so hard not to think about it, Steve, I swear I tried.”

“I know you did,” he says quietly. It hits him that he might be the only one who really gets it. Eddie gave up denying it long ago, deciding to evolve into something else for them to focus on. Robin’s a girl. Which doesn’t mean jack shit in most cases, because being a lesbian fucking sucks in a town like Hawkins, but girls aren’t as obsessive about it. Sometimes when they compare notes, Robin will just stare at him.

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t know what I did wrong,” he mumbles tearfully into his shoulder.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve says with a surprising amount of vehemence. He grabs Mike by his scrawny little shoulders, pulls him away so he can look directly into his bloodshot eyes. “Not a damn thing, do you hear me? There is nothing wrong with you, and anyone who tells you otherwise deserves a swift kick in the balls. Got it?”

Mike responds by bursting into loud, messy sobs.

Steve just keeps holding him, running a hand through his hair and soothing him gently, like he wishes someone had done for him or Robin or Eddie when they were young. Finally Mike pulls away, embarrassment starting to set in.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Steve asks instead of a meaningless platitude he knows Mike wouldn’t accept.

Mike gives him a suspicious look. “I guess.”

“I’m scared too. All the time.”

“No you’re not,” Mike snorts. “You don’t need to make me feel better just because I’m a pussy.”

“I’m not joking,” he says. “Why do you think I dated girls? Why do you think I went through so many lengths to hide it? It’s fucking terrifying, man. But you know what makes it less scary?”

“Dating girls? Marrying a woman?”

“No.” He pokes Mike’s chest, right over his heart. “People. Friends who love and accept you. Friends who know what you’re going through, even.”

“Do you…” Mike chews his lip. “Do you think Nancy would be okay with it? With me?”

“Absolutely I do. She was okay with me, wasn’t she? And I was her boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s your family, right? Sometimes people don’t care if someone is… people don’t care until it affects them. Do you think Nancy is like that?”

He knows Nancy isn’t like that, but that's a talk they’re going to have to have themselves. “I really don’t,” he encourages. “I think she’d be really glad to know this part of you, actually. She loves you.”

“…I know,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t… we made this dumb no secrets pact the first time the Upside-Down happened, I don’t know why. It’s stupid. But…I don’t want to keep secrets from her anymore.”

[reineydraws]

i have a soft spot for fics where billy sort of ends up adopting el and will alongside max. like, these are the kids that get dibs for rides in the camaro haha.

also im unfortunately not participating bc prev commitments but #harringrove for turkey is happening right now if yall want to donate to the earthquake relief funds for turkey & syria and get some art/fic back from harringrove fans! :) check out the tag if you're interested!!

[plistommy]

Eddie and Billy usually always choose what to listen to together ’cause they have such a similar music taste.

They call Steve’s music taste shitty, as a joke, but once Steve gives them that sad face and big puppy eyes, the radio is turned to Queen or Duran Duran immediately.

Anything for their pretty boy.

[xashthebugx]

Harringrove but Billy loves makeup. like absolutely adores it. But he's too scared to go out in public with it on so he hides in the comfort of his bathroom. That is until Steve walks in and Billy is terrified, shaking and desperately trying to get the makeup off and almost in tears. while Steve just stands there confused and thinking "HE'S EVEN HOTTER HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE"

Steve ends up calming Billy down enough to let him talk about how his parents were extremely transphobic and while Billy isn't trans, he would be crucified if they ever saw him with makeup on.

they end up cuddling and steve assures him that nothing is going to happen and all is well :)

[ickypuppi3]

[giiihoroco]

When they have just one umbrella ,and find the best way to share

I'm doing another separate drawing, of them in the market

one more cute art to refresh my mind of the dirty things I was drawing lol 😏

[theladycarpathia]

This time we're gonna see this through

Prompt: Steve Harrington’s closet during a spring break party

“I feel like this is a conspiracy,” Steve says. Billy slides down the length of the door and rolls his eyes.

“You think?” he says flatly. Steve tries the handle anyway, just to be sure. It just rattles, a sound that no one will hear over the thumping music.

“It’s locked, genius,” Billy says, with his eyes closed. Like it hurts to look at Steve. Maybe it does.

Which is fucked up, because Steve’s not the one who left.

“Those assholes,” Steve hisses, yanking at the handle. It’s his fucking party, and he’s been locked in here like a child with the one person he’d hoped not to see ever again.

“Those assholes are our friends,” Billy points out, and Steve snorts. Robin is going to pay for this. She owes him big time. And yeah, maybe she had good intentions. It’s been nearly a year and Steve has been less than himself for most of it. It’s been fine. It was a break up. He needed time to get over it and he’d thrown a huge spring break party to prove that he was not still fucking moping.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Steve says, slapping his palm against the door. If he was a betting man, he’d probably guess that someone has also wedged a chair under the handle. They’re going nowhere.

So he chooses to stalk to the opposite wall and sit down. It means he has to look at Billy but anything is going to be better than feeling the heat of Billy’s skin and remembering when they used to lie together in Steve’s bed.

“How did you even end up here anyway?” Steve asks, because he thinks he’d remember asking Billy along to the party. Billy shrugs and tips his head back against the door. 

“Heather,” he says briefly. Steve sighs. Right. He should have known that his best friend and Billy’s best friend probably kept in touch after. At least that was one relationship that hadn’t shattered.

“You knew it was my house,” Steve says, because this is the thought that has bothered him since he spotted Billy’s Camaro. He and Billy have very carefully kept to their own circles since that day in July. “Why did you even agree to come?” 

“Heather wanted to,” Billy mumbles and he won’t meet Steve’s eyes. He’s fiddling with that scrap of leather around his wrist. It hadn’t looked so pathetic when he and Steve had been dating and the sad realization of how much time has passed hits Steve like a punch to the chest.

Steve wraps his arms around himself. He wishes he could hate Billy, after everything. 

“Plus you did always throw good parties,” Billy says, with a flicker of something that looks like the old Billy. The one who arrived midway Junior year and immediately got into Steve’s face. Who wanted to be seen and wanted and…

Steve isn’t even sure who Billy is anymore.

“Damn straight,” Steve retorts. He just has to deal until Robin or someone comes to let them out. If Nancy finds out, she might take pity on Steve. And she only knows the bare bones of it: the break up, what happened after, and the horrible, awful truth of it. 

“Heard from Hagan that you kind of fell out of the party scene,” Billy says carefully and Steve recognizes it for what it is. It’s the same kind of tone that Steve uses when he wants information out of Max. At least, back when he used to ask. 

“Yeah, well…” Steve says vaguely, because what is he meant to say? 

“Just lost interest in it,” he says finally, after the silence hangs around like the dust motes in the air. “Do you still work at Benny’s?” He knows full well that Billy does, and that chafes because Benny’s burgers are still the best food in town. He hasn’t dared set foot there, now that he no longer knows Billy’s schedule.

“Yeah,” Billy says, and stretches out his long legs across the floor. Steve discreetly shifts his left leg, trying to avoid Billy’s knee pressing into his own. “He offered to keep me on full time but I’m not here for long when I get that diploma.”

Steve’s heart sinks. Of course not. He never really expected Billy to stay in Hawkins but hearing it for certain is like a knife. What is it now? March, so there’s barely any time at all before Billy’s gone for good. 

“Will you go back to California?” Steve asks, because he has to keep talking. He feels like he’s going to be sick, that this cupboard and the boy in it is smothering him. No amount of convincing himself that it’s a good thing will do. Because yes, it will be easier to breathe once Billy has gone, when he no longer has to keep checking over his shoulder. 

But it means that they’re done and the small hope Steve has kept alive for the last year - that maybe, maybe they’ll get back together - has finally been snuffed out.

“Yeah,” Billy says quietly. He still won’t look at Steve, hands folded in his lap. It’s fine. Steve got pretty used to the idea that he was someone to be ashamed of, when Billy told him to his face last year.

“Good,” Steve says, and everything tastes bitter as he says it. “Good. I know you missed it.”

“You always knew I’d be leaving,” Billy says, and there’s a faint razor line in his voice. And oh, fuck him for getting angry. He has no fucking right to be angry about this. He dumped Steve and now he’s leaving.

“Yes, I did,” Steve spits. “It’s fine. Glad I’m not getting in your way. Jesus Christ, when are they going to let us out of here?” Because the music is still pounding and it feels very much like they’ve been forgotten. And he can’t even leave when they get out of here because it’s his fucking house.

“You weren’t in my way!” Billy retorts, voice rising and Steve finally snaps his head back to stare Billy right in the eyes for the first time since the door locked behind them. And he must be pretty fucking screwed up to miss this: the flush in Billy’s face as they fight, how gorgeous Billy looks with that wild look in his eyes. But back then their fights were always made up. Not this time. “You were never in my way! Jesus, Steve, I loved you. Okay? I fucking loved you and I always wanted to take you with me.”

Steve stares at him wordlessly, feeling as though all his strings had been cut. He’s not sure what’s worse - that Billy apparently changed his mind or that Billy used the past tense.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Great. Good for you. Thanks for telling me.” Billy’s lip curls in a sneer.

“Is that it?” he hisses. There’s a faint glimmer of hurt on his face that Steve doesn’t quite understand.  “Jesus fucking…Fuck you, Steve Harrington!” 

“You wish,” Steve bites out. Billy’s mouth twists and he slams at the door with a fist. Steve winces at the rattle. He wants out but not badly enough to explain to his parents why the door is broken.

“Guess I won’t ever see you again when we get out of here,” Billy mutters to his shoes. Steve feels bile crawl up his throat. So. That’s it then.

“No,” Steve says, trying to make it sound like he doesn’t give a shit. “No, I guess not.”

The door suddenly clicks and is yanked open, throwing Billy and Steve into sudden bright light. Steve blinks before he sees Robin and Heather’s curious faces in the doorway.

“So?” Robin asks expectantly, and Steve only feels crushing disappointment at the excitement on her face. Billy just stands up and pushes past them, without looking back once at Steve. Robin twists her head between Steve, still on the cupboard floor, and the rapidly vanishing Billy into the crowd.

“Billy!” Heather calls after him, her voice lost to the pounding music. “Wait! What happened?” She turns back to Steve, her and Robin wearing matching faces of confusion. “Didn’t he ask you?”

“Ask me what?” Steve asks, pulling himself up. His legs feel as though they’ve gone to sleep and he wonders how long they’ve been sitting in here.

“He didn’t ask you?” Robin demands furiously. “He was supposed to ask you!”

“Ask me what?!” Steve repeats, feeling a little like when he was in a ball pit as a kid. No matter how hard he tried, he always felt like the edge of the pit was too far away. It feels like that now, fighting constantly against a swirling mass, what he wants just a little bit out of his grasp.

Heather exhales, her face quietly disappointed. “Steve, what did you do?” she asks, quietly.

“Nothing!” Steve says defensively, instinctively. He used to fight with Billy a lot, about nothing, about stupid shit. Because it was part of who they were, because they enjoyed it. Because it ended in great sex. This was different. This is a fight where if Billy leaves now, he’s never coming back.

Steve looks up at two grave faces and feels like everyone else knows something he doesn’t. 

“What was he supposed to ask me?” he says and Robin just shakes her head.

“Go ask him yourself,” she says shortly and disappears into the churning crowd. Steve watches her go, feeling frustrated.

“I don’t understand,” he says to Heather. He lost her too, when he and Billy broke up. People shouldn’t have to choose sides but somehow they always do.

“What’s new?” she mutters, dragging her fingers through her tousled dark hair. There’s glitter smeared across her collarbones, sparkling in the flashing lights above the lace edge of her corset. 

“Heather!” Steve demands. He’s fucked up and he doesn’t even know how. “I don’t know what I did wrong! We were talking and then he said he was going to ask me to go with him…” Heather’s jaw drops.

“So he did ask?” she says, before her eyes turn cold and hard. “Fucking hell, Steve! Do you know how hard it was for me to get him to come here? He was sure that you hated him!”

But Steve doesn’t hear her.

Billy was supposed to ask Steve to go with him when he left for California? But he’d said it in the past tense…and so Steve had thought that Billy no longer wanted him to go. No longer wanted him. But that hadn’t been the case at all. Billy had come here and Robin had perhaps known that there was no way Steve would stop and listen unless he had to.

And it hadn’t worked anyway. Steve had heard Billy but he hadn’t listened. And now Billy was leaving, entirely certain that Steve didn’t love him.

Steve takes off at a run, pushing past the startled Heather. Billy’s had a good few minutes head start and he has to hope that the Camaro is blocked in. He skids down the corridor, shoves a few people on the stairs as he passes and accidentally treads on Patrick’s foot on his way out of the front door. 

The front of the house is mainly empty, a few people hanging out on the porch under the twinkling lights. The driveway is packed, cars crammed in as close as they can get. The people who arrived first have no chance of leaving until the dozens of cars behind them have moved. 

Steve leaps off the porch steps and weaves through the cars, looking for that familiar blue. He’s always loved that car. They’d had sex in that car. Kissed for the first time in that car. Lay out on the hood and watched the stars.

The Camaro is blocked in, by some piece of junk and a Toyota. Billy stands by the driver door, fiddling with a cigarette. Steve shouts his name and watches the shock on Billy’s face as he turns around.

“So you are stuck in,” Steve pants, because Family Video isn’t a hugely physical job. Jesus, maybe he should take up basketball again. 

“Yeah,” Billy says shortly. He’s still twirling the cigarette between his fingers, like he can’t decide whether or not to light it. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon. Hell, I can walk if needed.”

“Don’t,” Steve begs and takes a hesitant step forward. Christ, only he would have the man he loves come back to him and supremely fuck it up. “Please. Heather and Robin made me think that maybe I misunderstood you.” Billy’s jaw tightens.

“Maybe you did,” he says, leaning against the car. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what’s been misunderstood here?”

Steve licks his lips, looking for saliva and courage “I thought you were telling me you changed your mind. About me going with you.”

“Maybe I have,” Billy mutters churlishly, but there’s a delicate flush climbing his neck. Steve shakes his head. He’s pretty certain that’s untrue. It means that, despite Billy’s cold dismissal of him last year, Billy has always loved him.

“No, you haven’t,” Steve counters. “Do you? Want me to go with you?” Billy exhales slowly, and when he looks up, he’s the boy that Steve knew. Not the cruel one from last year, nor the one from the cupboard. 

“Yes,” he admits. “Steve, I always wanted you to go with me. Robin wants to come too, but they knew that you probably wouldn’t if it was with me. I thought for sure after last year you hated me…”

“No,” Steve bursts out. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t understand why, but I didn’t.” Billy gives a sharp bark of laughter. 

“You should have,” he says bitterly. “I deserved it. That was the worst way I could have…”

“Why did you?” Steve asks, edging closer. He resists the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, because there’s a bite to the air that he hadn’t noticed before. He wonders how Billy is standing there without shivering, before he remembers the constant warmth of Billy’s skin.

“Had to,” Billy says distantly. “I still had a full year of school left, even though you were about to graduate. Another year to live at home…” he cuts himself off but not before Steve catches his meaning.

“Neil knew?” he breathes, because Neil wasn’t supposed to know. They probably hadn’t been careful enough, given that most of Billy’s class, and a lot of Steve’s knew that they were together. All it would have taken was for someone to mention it to a parent and then for that person to mention it to Neil.

Neil didn’t care to have a gay son under his roof.

“So it had to be public and I couldn’t tell you,” Billy says, and the regret on his face is heart wrenching. “I wanted to but…” Steve nods. Billy’s life was already hell. If Neil had ever found out that he was still talking to Steve, life wouldn’t have been worth it.

“But you’re getting out?” Steve asks, because that’s clearly the plan. Billy’s going to turn eighteen soon, mere weeks away from graduating and being free of Neil. Billy nods, but he makes no mention of his former offer.

“He was going to hurt you,” Billy says, turning his face up to Steve’s. His blue eyes are huge in the moonlight, surrounded by full, pale lashes. Steve always thought that Billy’s distance this past year was down to indifference, rather than what it was. Guilt, regret, an act of protection. “I’m sorry. I just had to be sure it was public and he’d hear about it.”

Steve should hate him. The humiliation had been bad enough, being pushed away like he was something underfoot but the devastation had been even worse. The person he’d adored had just…stopped loving him. 

“You still love me,” Steve says, unable to stop the dopey grin spreading across his face. Billy’s flush deepens.

“Yeah, well, you still love me,” he retorts. He stashes the cigarette away in a pocket, like it was a safety net that he no longer needs. He offers a hand and Steve doesn’t hesitate to take it.

It’s like they haven’t spent a year apart with the way that they fit together. Billy feels the same, from the soft spot under his ear, to the curls under Steve’s fingers, to the hips that slot into his. It’s fucking freezing but they kiss and kiss, under Steve can no longer feel his fingers and his mouth is a raw red.

“Come with me,” Billy breathes hopefully, struggling for the keys to open the Camaro. They can’t drive anywhere just yet, but they can make use of the backseat. The good kind of fights are made up with orgasms. Steve can pull Billy into his lap, like they used to, curled around each other to fit. Back then it used to feel like they were one person, connected all the way from head to heels to heart. No one will notice them while they take the time to relearn how to be together.

“Always,” Steve promises and shuts the door behind them.

[rafescurtainbangz]

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

Steve has been an amazing help in recent months. Dedicates most of his spare time to making sure that Eddie is comfortable, well-fed and taken care of.

In a boyfriend way, not a pity way.

Eddie is thankful for that. Everyone in this shithole town looks at him like he’s got an expiration date, and he doesn’t know what he’d do if Steve joined them. If he ever started to look at Eddie like he was already dead.

“Let’s make this quick, yeah?”

Smoke leaks from Billy’s mouth as he unfolds the wheelchair. Holds the handles steady from behind while Eddie leans out of the passenger seat of the van and hoists himself into it. Arms shaking. Lungs shrinking. He normally has Steve here to make the task easier, to help scoop him up or at least give him a helping hand, and maybe even a kiss on the forehead. Regardless of whether or not they’re in public.

But Steve isn’t here, and the most he gets is a steady hand on the wheelchair as he maneuvers into the seat and a pat on the shoulder when he’s done.

Billy shuts the door to the van and pockets the keys. Strolls past Eddie and towards the storefront, pulling the door open and holding it for a couple of ladies as they exit while he waits for Eddie.

Eddie who grips the wheels with pins and needles in his fingers and lurches himself forward. Heaving softly under his breath as he rolls up the slanted curb and through the threshold.

As he passes, Billy gently nudges his bicep with his knuckles.

“Breathe, Munson,” he encourages.

“You’re lucky I don’t have legs or I’d kick your ass,” Eddie wheezes.

The blond chuckles. Smoke curls in the air, and suddenly there are fingers wrapping around the chair’s handles. Eddie sighs. Rests his hands in his lap and lolls his head back, stares up at Billy as he gets pushed down the nearest aisle.

He’s not really sure why he insisted on joining Billy this morning. Maybe it’s because he’s been going a little stir crazy, confined to the first story of the Harrington house with nothing to do but mill around and watch tv. The board games and books that he was gifted by Dustin and Mike have kept him decently occupied, but even a nerd like him has limits.

Besides, the sun can do him some good, right? He has to be paler than a vampire by now—

“What kinda snacks do you feel like?” Billy asks. He combs a hand through Eddie’s hair as he steps around the chair to examine the shelves that they’ve parked next to. “You wanna switch anything up?”

“Anything but Twinkies. I’ve had so many Twinkies that if I smell the frosting I might puke.”

“Mm.”

Billy looks over the assortment of snack foods thoughtfully. Rolls his cigarette between his teeth and plucks a pack of Oreos from the shelf, plopping it into Eddie’s lap along with a few bags of chips.

All things that Eddie likes. Right down to the flavors and everything.

Though Billy simply stalks away and gestures for him to follow with the curl of his fingers over his shoulder, Eddie feels warm inside. Grabs onto the wheels and moves forward again.

The healing process has been… difficult. To say the very least. Dealing with phantom pains and bedsores has been relatively easy when compared to everything else. To the knowledge of fucked up parallel universes and the trauma that he’s endured.

His mind feels more fucked up than his body sometimes. Not that he’d ever breathe a word of that to anyone— specifically not to Steve.

The twisted flesh at his sides, the scar on his cheek, and the little dimples left behind from stitches are all physical reminders of the incident, as they’ve come to call it. Much like the Upside Down is an echo of Hawkins, Eddie views the physical injuries as echoes of his internal ones. Manifested, almost, as itchy blisters and puckered pink skin that refuses to tan in the sun.

It helps knowing that Steve bears similar marks. On his forearms and his sides, and his back. He doesn’t think twice about taking his shirt off at the pool or throwing on a crop top when it gets hot outside. Eddie admires that.

He also admires Billy in a similar respect. For continuing to unbutton his shirts down to his navel and flaunt himself despite the scar tissue that stretches from his sternum all the way down to his belly and wraps around his back. Angry and red and not at all a hinderance to his carefree attitude.

After all, what’s a little baggage to a King of Hawkins? Former or not.

The blond is browsing the end of a shelf a few aisles down, and Eddie wheels himself a bit faster. Plans on making some kind of screeching noise as he comes to a stop like a car coming to a halt at a traffic light. Just to make Billy laugh.

Because he has an oddly mild sense of humor like that. Aside from the obvious bitchy stuff that he’s more well-known for.

But that’s ruined when Eddie turns abruptly to avoid colliding with another customer exiting an aisle, snacks flying out of his lap in the process. Without even looking up, he dips down to pick up the items he dropped.

“Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t see you there.”

It’s a stretch. Strains the tired muscles in his back to reach for the bag of Doritos, but he’s so close, if he can just get a little closer—

The bag is kicked away, and Eddie barely catches himself with a hand braced on the armrest as the chair lurches backwards. He huffs. Feels a rush of panic seep into the hollow of his chest as he steadies himself and sits up, hands already shaking.

God, he wishes he didn’t have to feel like this. Why does he feel like this?

“You just can’t seem to leave me alone, can you, freak?”

Breathe, Munson.

Eddie inhales. Exhales. In through his nose and out through his mouth like Robin showed him once. Or was it in through his mouth and out through his nose?

The chair jerks back again, and this time collides with a small shelf of pastries, sending plastic boxes tumbling to the floor.

“I’m talking to you,” a voice hisses.

Eddie looks up. Gets a beautiful view of none other than Jason Carver glaring down at him. Fists clenched. Chest puffing. Looking like he’s on the verge of exploding out of his skin.

“Y’know, I’m getting sick of hearing your name everywhere I go. Of hearing people talk about you like you’re some survivor, some victim,” Jason says. “Why can’t you just get out of my life?”

It’s stupid. It’s so stupid, but Eddie actually feels bad for the guy.

He’s never seen a golden boy go sour in the public eye so fast. Go from the talk of the town, the pride of the high school, to social pariah.

That thought is quickly usurped by another, and Eddie pinches his brows together.

“What, you just want me to not go grocery shopping? Grow up,” he huffs. “It’s a small town, dude, we’re gonna bump into each other.”

Jason tightens his jaw. Squares his shoulders, and Eddie fears that he’s made a grand mistake for a moment before the thud of heavy boots on the tile approaches, and Jason is being spun around.

It’s lightening fast, the way the rage melts from his expression.

Cans clutter to the floor. The shelf nearly tips over with how hard Jason’s shoulders collide into it, and he breathes a pained sound as he’s pinned against it. A pair of fists tangled in the lapels of his letterman jacket.

“I should drag you out back and leave you for dead in a dumpster,” Billy growls.

Face inches away from Jason’s. Blistering red all the way down his neck like Eddie has never seen before.

His shoulders are bunched up. Cigarette pinched angrily between his lips, merely a butt now, and it sends a chill up the brunet’s spine just to bear witness to it all. Even more so when he notices that Jason’s sneakers aren’t touching the ground.

“Billy,” Eddie manages. Straightens and wheels himself closer. “Billy, it’s okay—“

He snaps his mouth shut when a sickening glare fixes on him. Then Billy turns back to Jason, who grips onto his wrists. Looking vaguely dazed.

“I don’t wanna see you near him ever again, you understand?” Billy warns.

Jason huffs.

“He ran into me. I’m the victim of a hit and run here.”

He grunts when Billy draws him away from the shelf and slams him back into it.

“Shut the fuck up, Carver, or I’ll smear you so hard against the sidewalk that you’ll be tasting brimstone.” It comes out quiet. Like a promise. “Do I make myself clear?”

By now, there are employees as well as other customers staggered around. Watching just like Eddie with baited breath. When Jason doesn’t respond, Billy slides him further up the shelf.

“Sign or signal. Now,” he prods.

Jason manages a nod. Pinches his lips together and grunts when he’s dropped back to his feet, straightening his jacket and immediately putting a good foot of distance between him and Billy, who’s still fuming like an overworked furnace.

He casts a fleeting glance at Eddie before he reluctantly turns away. Hisses when Billy flicks his cigarette butt at the back of his neck.

It’s probably the most scared that Eddie has been in months when a pair of blue eyes fixes on him.

But then Billy is crouching in front of his wheelchair. Eyes glassy as he sets his hand on Eddie’s thigh with the most delicate of touches, like he’s expecting the brunet to recoil from it.

“I’m sorry, Edd—“ his voice catches in his throat, and Eddie feels a sharp pang of guilt settle deep between his ribs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

For a moment, Billy just looks up at him. Then he nods softly. Reaches over and picks up the items that fell out of Eddie’s lap before he tucks them under his arm and stands up.

Eddie can do nothing but sit there as he’s pushed through the store. Straight back to the front and up to the register, where Billy checks out with less than half of what they came here to buy. It’s silent from then on until they get out to the van. Billy stows their single bag in the back, and just as Eddie begins to gear up to haul himself into the passenger seat, the blond steps in front of him.

“I think you’ve done enough for today,” he coos.

Gently reaches around Eddie’s back and hoists him up with ease. Sets him in the passenger seat carefully with a soft smile before he shuts the door and folds the chair closed.

Eddie… well, Eddie’s ears burn as he buckles himself in.

Waits patiently for Billy to climb behind the wheel.

When he does, he plugs the key into the ignition, but doesn’t start it. For a few tense seconds, he just sits there. A worm of guilt starts to inch up Eddie’s spine as he fiddles with his rings in his lap, already thinking of a mountain of apologies to give.

He knows that it isn’t his fault. That he couldn’t have predicted the events of today in order to stop them from happening. But he feels the burden of it anyway. Feels stupid and insignificant and—

Billy turns in his seat. Pulls Eddie into a hug. A tight, secure hug, and tucks his face into the crook of his neck. Eddie takes a flustered moment to remember to reciprocate it.

A lump gathers in his throat when he feels moisture against his skin.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Billy sighs.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, Bills, I promise.”

He rubs Billy’s back soothingly. Squeezes him when he sniffles and tilts their heads together.

“I shouldn’t’ve left you, it’ll never happen again.”

“Just breathe, baby. Like you always remind me, alright? Breathe.”

And Billy listens. Inhales deeply and sighs into his skin. In through his nose and out through his mouth, funnily enough. Lets Eddie shush into his ear and rock them softly side to side until every one of his muscles is relaxed.

He might not handle every situation like Steve. Might not cook for Eddie or wait on him hand and foot like Steve does. But that’s okay.

Because although he makes Eddie work just a little bit harder for things, makes him push himself more than anyone else, he cares. Enough to scare the living shit out of probably the most feared guy in town. Enough to break down crying right afterwards for not doing more.

Truth be told, Eddie wouldn’t change that. Not for anything in the world.

[raven-cl]

Wips of these baby boys

[harmonity-vibes]

Imagine

You know that with every touch, caress, soft word and look, he belongs to you and you to him. You know that every time he gets intimate with you, it's only you he wants. His intense, love-filled gaze is only for you, and you're sure that it's with him that you'll end your life.

[suwunnysideup]

anyways, if the reblogs and tags didn’t clarify enough: this blog is fucking NOT a welcome space for billy stans.

he’s a fucking racist and abusive asshole of a man. yes he was abused, but that gives us the reason for his actions, it does not fucking excuse it. y’all do triple backflips through flaming hoops to defend this man while demonizing female characters (mainly nancy) for literally being teenagers. nancy called a relationship bullshit bc she was drunk and in agony over losing a friend and having everyone act like it never happened. she pointed a gun at steve to scare him off because a fucking demogorgon was coming and he didn’t know. she takes up arms to defend the kids from so many different threats while also dealing with her own fucking issues. billy threw lucas against a wall and threatened to break him just bc he was black and hanging around max. yes, he definitely could’ve used a support system like jonathan had, but he never fucking tried to make one. he and max could’ve tried to bond together under the abuse of neil. he could’ve talked to somebody - anybody - but he chose not to and instead lash out and take his rage out on anyone and everyone. did the narrative treat him weirdly? yes, i think so. but that doesn’t make him into this uwu soft boy y’all want him to be so desperately. like, this is the man who wanted to beat on kids and literally tried to bash steve’s face in with his fists. he intimidates and pushes around anyone he can, namely max and lucas. the duffer brothers and caleb confirmed his actions were racially motivated towards lucas. i’m not saying he deserved to die, nor am i ignoring the obvious trauma he went through, but i’m not using it to justify his actions and make excuses for his shitty behavior.

idc how y’all headcanon him but it’s fucking weird how much y’all wanna change about him to make him into ur sad boy of the month. anyways, rant fucking over with.

[ickypuppi3]

billy accidentally nearly calling steve ‘sir’ during an argument one time

maybe steve’s pissed about something, maybe billy is, either way they’re having an argument

maybe steve backs billy against the wall for a minute, not thinking anything of it because it’s billy and billy can hold his own, can argue back

but then steve asks him a question, yells when he says it

and maybe billy flinches, forgets where he is

and that’s when it happens

you know a little “yes si-” and billy just freezes.. and steve’s staring at billy and trying to work out what billy was going to say and then he’s like oh..

..oh

and maybe he reaches out for billy but billy’s embarrassed so he tells steve to fuck off before getting the hell out of there

because he knows steve’s steve

knows steve would never lay a hand on him

not like that, not now

and billy’s so embarrassed

and he ends up avoiding steve for as long as he can, thinks that steve must think he’s a mess - even more of a mess - thinks that steve won’t get it.. not that billy really gets it either and that’s the problem

maybe billy just wants to forget it ever happened, wants steve to forget but he knows steve won’t because he’s steve.. he’s steve and he’ll want to talk about it

and billy doesn’t, because billy can’t explain it, doesn’t get it, doesn’t want to get it

doesn’t want to dig that deep

and steve’s all “you know i’d never hurt you, bills” “i’m not him” “you get that, don’t you?”

and billy refuses to even meet his eyes, knows it’s hurting them both but he doesn’t want to think about it

doesn’t want to talk about it