/ CLOSED.

BILLY   HARGROVE   HAS   NEVER   FELT   ANYTHING   LIKE   THIS.   the   overflowing   joy   and   connection   with   another   human   being.   nothing   like   this.   it’s   that   same   type   of   feeling   he   chases   when   no   one   is   looking,   sticking   things   up   his   nose   and   what   not.   but   this   comes   for   free,   completely   unprompted.   it’s   electric   and   feels   breathless   and   warm   all   over.   it’s   the   ocean,   getting   lost   in   it.   fresh   and   rejuvenating.   billy   hargrove   finds   himself   at   a   place   he   won’t   be   able   to   look   at   in   the   same   way.   behind   the   shade   of   some   greenery.   no   one   came   to   this   spot,   unless   you   were   horny   and   had   found   someone.   this   isn’t   that.   not   necesarilly.   billy   wouldn’t   treat   it   just   like   that.   still,   there’s   sand   underneath   his   back.   curls   hot,   against   steve’s   thigh.   summer   heat   hitting   in   a   different   kinda   way.   dangerous,   the   thrill   of   it   making   everything   much   sweeter.   everything   golden.   the   water   the   background   music   to   whatever   the   fuck   they   are   doing   right   now.   they’re   talking   because   that’s   a   thing   billy   does   now,   he   talks.   at   least   with   steve,   and   tells   him   stupid   stories   about   campfires   at   the   beach   and   van   drives   so   long   he   nearly   hurled   and   it   doesn’t   matter   what   the   fuck   he   is   saying   steve   seems   content,   seems   to   think   he’s   funny   or   something   and   he   laughs,   he   legitimately   laughs   and      it   fucking   drives   billy   insane.   like   he   wants   to   put   the   keys   turn   the   engine   on   and   drive   off   the   cliff.   they’re   sharing   a   coke   bottle   like   they’re   something   (sweethearts,   like   they   sweethearts   billy   wants   to   say   wants   to   think   but   he   isn’t   letting   himself   anywhere   close   to   that.)   and   like   he   is   thinking   about   this.  

he   is   thinking   about   the   fact   that   this   is   not   forever,   steve   is   leaving   at   some   point.   but   billy   cannot   give   a   flying   fuck,   because   the   sun   turns   everything   to   gold,   and   over   the   few   days   it   seems   like   there’s   now   streaks   of   the   sun   in   steve’s   hair,   like   cali’s   taking   him   in   and   cali   looks   so   damn   beautiful   on   steve   harrington.   he   feels   like   his   chest   wants   to   cave   in.   but   it   doesn’t   he   just   lays   there.   the   sun   hitting   him   and   warming   him   and   doing   nothing   to   the   butterflies   in   his   stomach,   his   hand   wipes   the   hairs   out   of   his   forehead.   and   he   giggles   like   he’s   a   girl,   and   like   steve   must   be   a   hit   with   the   girls   back   home,   because   if   he   wasn’t   billy   wouldn’t   be   swooning   right   now   about   it.   talk   about   a   guy.   plaguing   his   every   thought.   fucking   hell,   fucking   hell,   fucking   fuck.   and   like   he   gets   an   idea   and   billy   hargrove   should   stop   having   ideas,   he   should   stop   taking   steve   to   places   because   it   would   mean   associating   this   place   with   steve   and   holy   shit   if   that’s   not   putting   himself   on   a   tough   spot   he   wouldn’t   fucking   now.   he   licks   his   lips   and   opens   blue   eyes   to   look   up   from   the   spot   were   billy’s   head   is   at.   “-so   you   totally   suck   at   skating,   are   you   any   good   at   swimming,   harrington?”   it’s   a   moot   point.   billy   knows   a   swimmer’s   back   when   he   sees   one.   it’s   teasing,   billy   smirks,   like   he’s   won   something.   like   it’s   a   challenge.   everything   still   golden,   turning   rosey.  

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