#Roadtrip Trio | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azurevi · 1 year

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pairing: leona x gn!reader

summary: promise rings, some backstory i sprinkled on a whim, a few stuff from the tamashina-mina event. 3k

note: diversity loses! tormented writer posts more leona fluff despite being consumed by angst ideas. @twistedchatterbox gave me the idea of promise rings a while back then so here’s something i made! it’s a bit messy cz i wrote most of this on bus rides lol

This day couldn’t get any better, Leona thought, putting aside the fact that he was at a festival he really didn’t want to attend, and that he had been surrounded by his curious schoolmates the whole day, forcing him into the role of a tour guide. At least he got to show you around the place he’d grown up in, shower you with cuisine after cuisine that you couldn’t find anywhere else, and bring you to a hot spring that made him feel that his bones had been broken down and resembled again, all of which you responded with the utmost enthusiasm and amazement. Despite the love-hate sentiments he held for this place, knowing that you enjoyed the tour put him in quite the good mood.

Also, he was definitely putting ‘roadtrip’ on his non-existent bucket list now.

A content sigh slipped out as he sat sprawled out in his seat, head resting on his fist, a single strand of hair falling over his attentive gaze. Everyone had had their fill at dinner and was enjoying the dance show. Melodies swirled and clashed in the air, accompanied by the soft fluttering of the dancers’ outfits. His focus was, however, not on their flawless performance, but rather on the giggling group in front of the stage.

You were linking arms with Kalim, following his ecstatic steps with a touch of clumsiness. Lilia was linked to your left, even though he was just doing his weird moves that somehow resembled a bird. Grim was somewhere else, struggling to mirror the dancers and trying his absolute hardest not to get kicked at by accident. Once in a while the music would speed up, and you would all scramble to match the tempo, laughing when your legs bumped into each other.

The unbridled bliss on your face was as bright as the afternoon sun. Amidst the collision of songs, he made out your laughs as though they were a melody written especially for him. If the hotel was vacant but for the both of you, he would’ve jumped out of his seat and danced with you just so he could see how much you were enjoying yourself up close. Ideally he would have the song changed to something much gentler for him to soak in the moment under the glorious starry night.

“…Leona, are you listening?” Vil’s voice dragged him out of the little fantasy he was conjuring in his head.

“I stopped listening the moment you brought up your something-something products.” He said, which was only half a lie. Even when he was distracted, he picked up a few lines, like how the climate here could've very well ruined Vil’s skin without the lotions he’d brought and how all the sweating could’ve melted his makeup had they not been waterproof. Basically just different words to show that he’d come prepared.

“Of course you did,” Vil rolled his eyes. Following Leona’s gaze, he glanced back and forth between the trio and the man beside him. “Lilia is quite good at dancing, isn’t he?”

“Yea.” The answer came mindlessly. By the time Leona realized himself, Vil already had that annoying smirk on his face.

Darn you for distracting him.

Vil took a sip out of his glass, letting the fresh juice swirl in his grip. “Even to this day, I still can’t believe that they are into you of all people.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?”

“Not in a thousand years.” He put down the drink. “It’s just that they’re bright and easy-going and all, and you’re… well, you’re you. You act like you don’t want anyone breathing near you most of the time.”

That’s true, to some extent. Leona had found your presence a handful at first, but you managed to sneak into his life anyways.

“But there are times when your feelings become painfully obvious,” as if remembering something, Vil’s assumed an accusatory tone. “Like today, when you made all of us feel like third wheelers while you went on this lovey-dovey date with them. But really, that just proves my point. Whatever doubts that I initially had about you two… they’re wrong.”

“Do you have a point?” Leona frowned. As much as he would like to call him out for sticking his nose into his business, he knew that he was just looking out for you. Ever since VDC, you two had got on friendly terms, and that meant he was going to care for you anytime he saw fit. It was his way of showing his love.

“If you’re really serious about them, you should put a ring on it.”

He’d never turned his head this sharply. “What?”

“Well, not to straight up propose, just get promise rings or something. A lot of my co-stars wear them to show loyalty and devotion. It’s a good way of telling someone that you’re committed.”

“I am committed.” He shifted in his seat. “And they know that.”

“It’s just a suggestion. Take it or leave it.” That was the last thing Vil had to say before Lilia proposed having a karaoke session, forcing him to intervene.

…Of course you knew that he was committed. He’d made it abundantly clear, from remembering every little thing you’d mentioned in passing to showering you with gifts. He showed up to most school events for you, and he stood up for you whenever someone was dumb enough to pick fights. The list went on— surely he’d made it apparent enough how much you meant to him.

So why were you knocking on his door at 2 in the morning, with a hesitation that reminded him of when Cheka would stick his head into his room in the morning to see if he was awake?

“Hey. I know you’d rather sleep by yourself, but I can’t really fall asleep, so I was wondering if you’d have space for one more?”

He rubbed his eyes, brain still a bit fuzzy, and moved to one side of the bed. You scampered inside with the blanket wrapped around you like a cocoon and dipped your weight into the mattress.

“Was the bed uncomfortable?” He asked, spreading his arm so you could roll right next to him.

“No, I just can’t get used to new ones.”

And with that, you were off to dreamland in a few minutes.

The patterned ceiling stared right back at Leona. Where he’d just fallen asleep effortlessly, there was now a recurring thought romping in his mind.

It wasn’t the first time he’d shared a bed with you. As a matter of fact, Ruggie often found him hogging you while he’s napping in the botanical garden, clinging to you like you were a life-sized plush. But most of the time, he was the one initiating it. He’d thought that it was enough of a demonstration of how he wanted you around, but in reality—

“I know you’d rather sleep by yourself.”

Just how did you come to that conclusion? It wasn’t even the first time you’d said something similar. You’d always been on the cautious side, tip-toeing around the topic of intimacy like you were afraid that you’d be ‘too much’.

Perhaps worse still was the fact that he’d never been straightforward about his feelings. They had always been wrapped in other gestures, hidden under layers of seemingly ordinary words. Who was to say that they couldn’t have been lost on you?

“Put a ring on it.”

At the end of the day, it was Vil’s fault for planting the idea in his head.

—

Sneaking around the palace was child’s play to Leona. He’d mastered the art of hiding in dark shadows and unseen corners since a tender age, when the guards and chamberlains would talk behind his back. Plus, nothing much had changed inside the palace. They were really driving home the idea of preserving the past.

Minor changes had been done to his room from the weekly cleaning, but otherwise everything was as he remembered. He made light steps to his empty desk and pulled open the drawer, searching for a jewelry box. Within were dozens of trinkets that would make Ruggie’s eyes twinkle like stars, from pendants to bracelets, all of which Leona had no interest in wearing.

All except this. He fished out a brown pouch and flipped it upside down. Two identical rings fell right into his palm. Each was a bit chunky, with an untainted emerald embedded in the golden shank. He pulled out his hair tie next, checked the mark he’d made in the middle, and compared the circle it formed with the size of the rings. It was a perfect match, as he’d suspected.

Leona recalled the day he’d gotten them. He was sitting at his mother’s bedside, hands balled into fists on his lap. He recalled her fragile, glass-like smile, recalled the shake in her hand as she removed the rings from her fingers. He was still too young and naive to know what was going on, but he had a hunch.

She had placed them in his parched, dry hand then. His knuckles had been cracked and bruised from earlier that day, when he’d lost control of his unique magic during training. With a wistful sigh, she ran feathery touches on the cuts, as if she was trying to heal them. But no dice; she would’ve healed herself had she possessed that sort of power.

“What are these for?” He clenched the golden rings in his chubby fingers. They looked ordinary, just like any other accessories the chamberlains like to throw on him before grand ceremonies. The only thing that stood out were the stones, which seemingly matched his eyes.

“When you find someone who feels like home, and they feel the same about you, give them the rings to show your feelings.”

“Do you mean I have to marry them?”

She laughed at his uneasy grimace— a sound that had yet to be lost in the currents of time. “Of course, or else they’ll go away forever.”

Young Leona immediately stuffed one of the rings back into her hand, “Then you must keep one! This way you’ll never go away from me, right?”

It would take a few more years down the road for him to understand why her eyes welled up at his words, or why one day Kifaji lifted him up in his arms and rushed him to her bedside, why that was the only time he would ever see her again. It was then that he realized that those rings were not charged with magic or blessings. They were just gold imbued with grief.

“What are you doing here, Prince Leona?”

Kifaji was standing at the doorway, hands hidden behind his back. God knew how long he’d been watching. Leona must’ve been so absorbed in his little treasure hunt to have not picked up his footsteps.

“You sound awfully accusatory. This is my room, isn’t it?” He slid the rings back into the pouch and pulled at the string to seal it.

Kifaji watched him pocket it. “Those are your mother’s rings, aren’t they?”

It seemed like his keen observation hadn’t been lost in time. “So what if they are?”

“Well. I can’t and won’t say anything since they’re your possessions. But curiosity beats me, so I must ask: what do you intend to do with them?”

“I intend to wear them, cause that’s how rings are supposed to be used,” Leona nudged the drawer shut with his knee, feeling a bit irritated by the questions.

“Yes, but it’s certainly been a while. Why your mothers’ rings in particular, and why now?”

He sighed. Nothing ever went past Kifaji’s eyes. “Fine. It’s because I’m gonna give one of ‘em to someone else, okay? End of story.”

He strode past the chamberlain out of the door, but the latter persisted, catching up rapidly. There was a moment when he was side by side with Kifaji, and was a bit astounded by the height difference between them. He never really noticed it before. To think that there was once a time when Kifaji could pick him up like he was nothing but a sack of rice.

“It’s that friend of yours that’s been tagging along, isn’t it?”

Leona decided to focus his efforts on walking.

“I was skeptical at first when you showed up with a bunch of guys that claimed to be your friends. Except for that kid. They seemed different.”

He scoffed. “Why, because they were hugging a cat the whole time?”

“No. Because of the way you treated them.”

“Oh yea? Enlighten me.”

“Remember the mangoes at the Raintree Market?”

And then Leona was strolling through the lively bazaar again, watching his schoolmates try out local fruits. The vendor had planned to give you one half of a mango as he’d done so for the others, but Leona asked for the whole fruit and a knife instead.

“The right way to eat a mango,” he sliced the mango in half, and began cutting squares on the one without the seed. Then he held the fruit on its two ends and pushed the pieces out. “Is to cut it into bite-sized chunks.”

“Don’t you remember? I used to do that for you when you were young. You’d cry and thrash because you despised fruits, so I decided to cut them into tiny pieces and have you eat them while we played chess. You cleared the plate in no time.”

There was a certain tone to Kifaji’s voice that Leona couldn’t quite recognize. All he knew was that he was suddenly aware of the aged hunch of his back. Where he used to race him through the palace with ease, he was now panting with the efforts to keep up with his long strides.

Leona slowed down a little to let him catch his breath.

“As the chief chamberlain, I do have the duty to ensure the integrity of anyone affiliated with the royal family. But I’m guessing you’ll do anything to get me off your back, so there’s no point anyways. Plus, if you’re taking out your mother’s rings for them, I suppose there’s no point in doubting your decisions.”

“Good.” Leona’s voice came out quieter than he expected. “I didn’t need you meddling in my business anyways.”

Some guards shot him confused glances when he passed by, but he ignored them. The two of them walked in silence until they arrived at the entrance. The sun had just emerged from the horizon, and was marking the land with a warm tint.

“I’m glad you found someone, Prince Leona.”

“Yea, yea. I got it,” he waved him back into the palace, but stopped just before he could turn around. “Thank you for escorting me.”

Kifaji froze, then let out a light laugh.

“That’s what I do.”

—

Securing the rings turned out to be the easy part. The challenge was in how to present them. Whatever plans Leona had been brewing in his head vanished thanks to the mishaps during the festival. By the time he remembered the rings in his pocket, you were already on your way back to the school campus.

Fine. He just had to adapt. He could book an expensive restaurant and do it with a band playing in the background. He could do it unexpectedly, in a totally unsuspecting occasion. He could recruit help from his dorm members to build a fitting venue.

But somehow, he just couldn’t do it. He’d had everything planned out in said restaurant, but he just couldn’t pull out the rings. He’d brought you to the beachside to watch the sun set, but he couldn’t make out the words. He’d prepared time after time what to say, but they never managed to untangle the feelings inside him.

The longer he held it off, the more he felt that it was a bad idea. What if you didn’t like rings, or what if you didn’t like him enough to dedicate yourself to that kind of promise? Even though they weren’t engagement rings, they still had a certain weight to them. Not to mention they were not any rings, but the ones his very mother used and left in his care.

He should really stop ruminating about this whole thing before he brought the rings back to the palace.

A crunch prompted him to look in your direction. You were lazing on his bed, back turned to him as you binge-watched one of those boring reality shows. There was another crunch.

“Are you eating chips?”

You froze in place. The video on your laptop went on, the audience’s laugh piercing the silence. “No?”

“Show me your hands.”

You shifted, and slowly raised them where he could see. There was salt on your thumb and index finger. He moved forward instantly, nevermind the chessboard next to him. After a bit of wrestling, he snatched the packet of chips from your hold.

“I said no eating on the bed!”

“Oh, so now you can eat on your bed but I can’t?” You argued.

“Yea, that’s the point.” He read the favor on the packet before reaching in to grab one for himself.

“Hypocrite.” You rolled your eyes and held your hand out. As he gave it back, you caught a glimpse of something red on his finger. “Hey, what’s that?”

It was a cut, shallow but precise. It must've happened when he was pulling at the packet. He hadn't even realized it at the moment, but now it was starting to sting a little, with a bit of pink smeared on the flesh around it.

“A papercut,” he shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t papercuts sting?” You paused the show and leaned in to check its depth.

“A bit. I’ll just avoid wetting it.”

“Nah, you should put a bandaid on it.”

“It’s a teeny cut.”

“My point stands.” Seeing as he wasn’t planning to do it himself, you sighed and threw your torso off the bed. "This is why you should never steal my chips, you know."

His steely eyes followed as you reached for the desk, or specifically, the drawer on the bottom, where he’d been keeping the rings. You didn’t seem to notice the addition of the porch to the miscellaneous mess inside, as you soon pulled out an unopened box of bandaids.

“May I have your hand, your majesty?” You gave him the best smolder you could muster, which just looked absurdly humorous. He complied regardless, letting you have your fun.

“Mm. I’ve never seen a cut this deep in my years of being a healer, your majesty,” you nodded meaningfully and ripped the box open. “I must subject you to the most effective medicine I have here: a magical band-aid.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He said despite stifling a smirk at the name you'd been using on him.

“And you’re in a life and death situation here, so I prefer that you don’t take this lightly.” You peeled off the seal and lined up the cotton with the wound, acting with a meticulousness that mismatched the insignificance of such a small injury. Strands of hair cascaded down your face, and he pushed them out of your face.

Well, wasn’t it just wonderful to have your attention solely on him. He wouldn’t even have batted an eye at something as trivial as this, but you took it upon yourself to care for him anyways, like you always did.

His gaze fell from your face to the band-aid around his finger. Had he been more distracted, he wouldn’t even have noticed that you’d been working around his ring finger, on his left hand no less. And he knew it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but as you smiled proudly at your flawless work, he couldn’t help but feel warmth crawl towards his heart.

It dawned on him then: the only thing more wonderful than having you pamper him over a tiny papercut, was to have you do it for the rest of his life. Even on days when he couldn't care less about himself, to have you look after him all the same. The knowledgedidn't come as a spike of adrenaline or in the form of an epiphany. It felt like a moment of clarity, like the wind's kisses against a wind chime.

“Y’know what this looks like?” He asked as you threw the band-aids back into the drawer.

“What?”

“A ring.”

You shot him an incredulous look. “It looks like anything but a ring.”

“Touché. It did feel like you were putting one on me though,” he stopped you just before you could shut the drawer, and rummaged through the mess blindly. Finally, his hand grasped something velvety. “To prove my point…”

The light-hearted smile fell from your face as you watched him take the content out. It was a bit ludicrous now, to think that after all the time spent creating the perfect atmosphere, he was just going to basically-propose-to-you on a whim, but there was no moment better than this. The gold weighed like rocks in his hands, but heavier were the words brewing in his chest.

“My mother left me these rings and told me to give one to someone I want to spend my life with,” he gauged your surprised reaction, “And I know it’s still early for us to even think about stuff like this, but I haven’t been this sure of anything for a while, so I gotta say it now. You’re the person I want to grow old with, and this will not change no matter if it's a good day or a bad day. I want to go to sleep and wake up to you every day, and I want you to know that there’s nothing that I want more than to be with you if you'd let me.”

He took your left hand in his, his thumb instinctively running over your skin. “So, would you let me take care of you for the rest of time?”

Your bewildered expression slowly shifted, and your mouth curled into a bright beam. “I say, that sounds like a wonderful future.”

The band fitted around your finger so flawlessly, it could’ve been made with you in mind. You planted a kiss on the ring on his hand, and the gold seemed to glimmer, now coated with not just his mother’s, but also your love.

As you pulled him close, a gush of warmth seeped into his heart, claiming its spot in the depths of his feelings. Perhaps this was exactly where home was— with your arms wrapped tightly around him. Maybe one day, he could even build a home of his own, rooted in nothing but the certainty you'd given him.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #sie writes

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littlewinter1917 · 2 years

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The Boys of Summer

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI. 🔞 Don’t repost my work anywhere.

Words: 11.7k

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington (essentially Harringrove x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and your two boyfriends, Billy and Steve, go on a little roadtrip to California together, and naturally shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff, teasing, swearing, and some suggestive themes. Brief mentions of Billy’s past trauma and abuse (nothing explicit!) Minor hurt/comfort. Everyone in the trio is bi.

A/N: Do I really need to say which song inspired this one? Also, this is in celebration of the fact that we have only a few days left, before we’ll probably get disappointed by the Duffer brothers, so good times?😵‍💫

Read the story on AO3 here.

The midday sun is hot and unforgiving way up in the sky, beaming down relentlessly; the dark asphalt beneath your feet might as well be scorching, and the sound of crickets fills the heat shimmering air.

It is way too hot for your liking, and despite wearing a flowy summery dress, you feel like you’re on the verge of melting right into the dusty ground of the small petrol station where you’re currently waiting for-

“Harrington! What’s taking you so fucking long?” Billy’s deep voice pulls you out of your current thoughts and misery.

Looking up, you see your fluffy, dark-haired boyfriend make his way over to you and Billy, a goofy smile on his face, and his hands and arms completely occupied with way too many snacks.

So that’s why he’s been gone so long inside the little patrol station.

“I come bearing gifts.” He states, a proud look gracing his sunlit features, and you know for a fact that he’s beyond pleased with himself and his unexpected findings.

What a dork.

“Did you have to rob the whole station?” Billy teases while coming to the rescue of a pair of airheads that threaten to slip from the confines of Steve’s bare arms.

“I’ve got it.” Steve grumbles with a pout, stubbornly determined to carry all his little treasures by himself.

“Sure,” Billy counters with an amused grin, “If you mean ‘I’ve got it' in the same way you meant your little ‘I’ll be quick’ roughly two hours ago, we’re lucky you’re still carrying any sweets at all, really.”

“Oh, fuck off, Billyboy. It’s been barely five minutes and besides that, why don’t you just take up snack duty at the next truck stop, then?”

There’s no real bite in any of Steve’s words, and the glare he throws Billy’s way is more playful than anything.

“Well, that is most definitely not happening,” you interject quickly, "Because last time Billy was on snack duty, he brought nothing but 5 packs of cigarettes and a car magazine, stating that it’s our loss we don’t have any real taste.”

“That was once, it was a joke, and you two were behaving like brats.” Billy defends himself.

“You say that like it’s unusual for us to-“ Steve starts, but you’re quick to interfere once more.

“Guys, can we maybe migrate this conversation into the confines of our car. I feel like my insides are going to start boiling any second now; it’s just so fucking hot!”

“You’re sure you’re not just hungry?” Billy asks with a sickly-sweet smile and you roll your eyes with a huff.

“Steve, baby, love of my life. You still have the keys to the Camaro, don’t you?” you question, batting your eyelashes at the tall brunette.

“Yes, why?” Steve looks like he’s about to try to pat his jeans down for the keys, before remembering that he’s still balancing two months’ worth of snacks in both of his hands and arms.

“Well, do you think we could find our way to California without our resident mullet-boy? I feel like leaving him here in the middle of Oklahoma, for some reason.”

This time it’s Billy’s turn to let out an offended huff.

“You would get lost like immediately.”

“Doubt it. I might not have any sense of direction, but Steve-“

“Uhm, guys, you know how I said, 'I’ve got it', like two seconds ago? I think I just changed my mind… Oh, no! My Tangle Twister!”

“Your what?!” Billy asks, slightly bewildered while trying to stop the landslide of candy that’s about to spill all over the burning asphalt, and you’re quick to help him, too.

“Jesus, Harrington, have you ever heard about the fabulous invention called ‘bags’?”

“Like the ones under your eyes?”

You stifle your laugh with a cough, while picking up the ice cream Steve just dropped to the ground.

“Excuse me, but I’ve been the one driving for the past 6 hours.”

“Yes, I know, Hargrove. my stomach still feels funny, thank you for that.”

“Oh, shut it! I’m an excellent driver, you-“

“Guys! As much as I love your little old-fighting-married-couple moment, can we please get into the car now?”

Your impatience and intolerance for the southern heat is really reaching its peak and luckily, the two men finally listen, albeit not without grumbling, slightly offended, “We’re not that old.”

The three of you make it into the car from there rather quickly.

Billy goes for the backseat to rest, together with the pile of candy that Steve is hesitant to leave somewhat unsupervised in the confines of Billy’s presence. You on the other hand, end up returning to your regular place in the passenger seat while Steve takes the one behind the wheel.

You’ve all decided to take turns with the task of driving. You had been the first one earlier today during the ungodly morning hours, when the sun hadn’t even peaked above the horizon yet; leaving Hawkins behind while the veil of the night still lingered, then it had been Billy’s turn, and now it was going to be Steve’s.

“Ready, my little co-pilot?” Steve questions with a soft pat to your knee, before starting the car, and Billy almost chokes on the ice-cold beer he just opened.

“Aww, seems like someone learned drinking just yesterday, huh?” Steve comments with a teasing smile, eyes searching Billy’s in the rearview mirror, before adding, “And here I was, thinking you were good at not choking on things.”

There’s another startled cough, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing.

“Careful, Stevie, you might end up killing him.“

“With what, my big words or my big-“

“Steve! Look out!” You suddenly exclaim, pointing at the car in front of you that just started to slow down significantly out of nowhere, and that Steve hadn’t been paying the closest attention to.

“I think you’re most likely going to kill us with your big fucking driving skills.” Billy groans, still slightly upset about the beer stains on his shirt.

“Don’t sweat it, Hargrove.” Steve jokingly taunts, “You look better without it anyway.”

“The beer stains? Yeah, go figure.”

God, you’re in love with two himbos, and two himbos only.

For a moment you just watch your two boyfriends continue to bicker. It’s always somewhere between playful teases and shameless flirting, and it’s rather entertaining to say the least.

Billy notices your amused gaze first, and he’s quick to call you out on it, leaning over between the two front seats.

“What are you smiling about, sweetheart?” He whispers lowly into your ear, the feeling of his breath tickling the exposed skin of your neck.

“Nothing,” your voice wavers only slightly, “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you two, and how much I love you both.”

Turning your head in Billy’s direction, you see his eyes instantly soften at your words, and his hands come up to carefully cup your face.

“I love you too, my little angel.” Billy murmurs, before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, hands still cradling your face.

He tastes like beer and cigarette smoke and some faint traces of artificial cherry flavoring; oh, that bastard better not be eating any of your sour cherry candy, you think for a second; but that thought is quickly discarded when Billy decides to deepen the kiss, taking not just your breath away but also every coherent thought you ever had.

Fuck, his kisses still make you feel dizzy and breathless and weak in the knees, and you can’t help the small whine that escapes your lips.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Steve suddenly calls out, voice a little exasperated.

“Stop distracting me like this.”

“Stop getting distracted, pretty boy.” Billy counters, flashing Steve one of his million-dollar smiles.

“Besides, You’ll get your kisses soon enough, no need to be jealous, just focus on the road.”

“I’m not jealous!” Steve huffs, “You’re both mine anyways, I just don’t like missing out.”

“Aww, poor Stevie, you want me to kiss your ego better?” Billy questions teasingly, patting Steve’s shoulder in condolences.

“For a matter of fact, yes.” Steve grumbles quietly, lips formed into a small pout, and you coo, before grabbing his hand on the makeshift.

“Sorry, my love, but you know how easy it is to get carried away with a menace like Billy.” you tease, and Steve just groans while Billy shots you both a playful wink.

“You know what I feel like having?” Steve suddenly questions, trying to change the subject.

“Roadhead?” Billy offers.

“A heat stroke?” You counter.

“Some good fucking music?!” You and Billy exclaim at the same time, and you two excitedly clap your hands together.

Great minds think alike.

Or maybe Robin was right, and the three of you just share one singular brain cell.

“No, actually,” Steve states, seemingly confused, “I was about to say my Tripe Power Push Pops but-“

“Your what?!” Billy inquires, eyebrows raised and a little dumbfounded, and you just groan in disbelieve.

“Steve, please tell me you’re not seriously thinking about your candy, again.”

“Oh, you’re kidding, right?” Billy adds, and you two look at your shared boyfriend for clarification with slight concern.

It’s only short-lived, though, because Steve can’t hide the smile that threatens to break out across his face, and you instantly know that he’s been taking you two for a ride.

That fucker.

“Do you guys really think that when I’m in a car with my beautiful boyfriend and my stunning girlfriend, the number one thing on my mind would be some sweets?” Steve asks, pretending to be offended.

“I would honestly not put it beyond you.” You admit with a smile that mirrors his, and Billy hums in agreement.

“Okay, rude!” Steve complains, but when he looks over to you briefly, you see his eyes sparkle with nothing but amusement and love.

Fuck, you really adore this guy. How you managed to end up with both Billy and Steve is still not something you can quite understand.

But here you are, in Billy’s trusty Camaro, with the two men you treasure more than anything, on your way to the most summery state of them all: California!

Even if it’s just for a few weeks, you’re more than a little excited, and, dare you say it, a bit nervous because you’ve never been there before, and your expectations are rather high.

You blame Billy for that.

“So, music?” Steve’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts again, and it doesn’t take long for you to get the small box of mixtapes that Billy keeps in a rather hidden compartment of the car. You all update it frequently, adding new tapes and taking older ones out.

Flipping through them, you know most of them and their track-lists by heart, until your eyes land on one mixtape in particular that you haven’t seen in a while, and you can’t help the surprised little gasp that slips out of your lips, eyes wide at the unsuspected discovery.

“Billy, you still have the first mixtape I made you?” You question, while tracing your fingers carefully over the spine of its protective case.

Your handwriting on it is a bit faded now, but you can still make out the name of the title. ‘Disco Doesn’t Suck, You Do!’ it states, and you still remember how you made it for Billy after your first date, and a rather heated discussion about what actually counts as good music.

You had tried to prove a point and settle the debate with that one, but you didn’t know he still kept it after all this time, because Billy supposedly hates disco.

“Of course, I kept it!” Billy looks at you, almost a little offended that you would even assume he might not. “I usually keep it safe in my part of the nightstand and listen to it occasionally. I just thought taking it with me to California might make sense.”

“Billy,” you whisper, “I had no idea you still listen to that tape, and I never thought you would actually enjoy it.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly say that.” he jokes, “Maybe I just brought it with me to remind myself how good my music taste is and how much yours is lacking.”

You turn around in your seat to face Billy and instantly stick out your tongue at him.

“Well, all I’m hearing is that you’ve been listening to the Bee Gees voluntarily, and that sounds like a damn miracle to me!”

“They really aren’t that bad… sometimes.” Billy admits, and you beam up at him, smile bright and warm, and Billy feels like his heart is going to tumble out of his chest and into your lap, because god, you’re adorable. And the fact that something he said is making you smile this hard, well color him a little proud.

“Oh Stevie, the first mixtape you made me is in here too!” You observe excitedly, and Steve just groans.

“Oh god, the Rod Stewart one?”

“Uh-huh.”

You can’t help but laugh once you see the faint blush that’s creeping up Steve’s cheeks.

“What am I gonna do? I’m so in love with you.” You teasingly sing parts of the chorus to your boyfriend, and he just shakes his head, slightly embarrassed.

“I can’t believe I chose a Rod Stewart song to tell you that I’m into you.” He mumbles, cheeks a fiery red and eyes averted.

“That’s the part that surprises you?” Billy quips in, “I’m more surprised that it actually worked.”

“Oh, shut it, there’s a time and place for Rod Stewart.” You defend Steve, though Billy looks rather unconvinced.

“Yeah, in hell maybe.”

“Billy!” you scold with a laugh, before pulling your attention back on Steve, who looks a little deflated.

“Don’t mind him, Stevie! I thought your idea was rather cute and endearing then, and I still think it’s rather cute and endearing now.” You state earnestly, looking at Steve with loving eyes, and this time his flustered state has a different origin.

He’s just as much head over heels for you as he has been since day one of you dating, and he still considers you the best thing in his life. Well, you and Billy now, because that mullet-haired beachboy ended up flipping both of your lives upside down, but in the best way possible.

“So, what do we want to listen to first?” you question, your eyes still skimming the different tape titles, unaware to Steve’s silent swooning.

“I-uh, I actually made a little mixtape for you two.” Billy quietly mumbles, before holding out a little rectangular object to you.

“It’s just something I made for the trip.” Billy’s voice sounds unusually raw, and you turn around in your seat again to face him fully.

“That’s such a sweet idea, Billy! Thank you!” You gush, before gently taking the tape from him, his fingers gracing yours in the process.

The mixtape looks just like all the other ones, except this one has the words California ’87 scribbled on its cover in Billy’s illegible handwriting, and there are three cheesy hearts drawn underneath it, each one adorned with different initials: Yours, Steve’s, and Billy’s.

“Aw, look at you, you secret sab! Billy, that’s adorable!” You briefly hold the mixtape with its case out for Steve to admire it as well, and he nods in agreement.

“Jeez, Billy, you’re gonna make my heart nut.”

“Stevie!” You playfully slap his shoulder, before turning back towards your other boyfriend, who looks rather shy all of the sudden, and it makes your chest swell with even more adoration.

“Oh, Billy, come here.”

Before he can even react, you’re already pulling him closer by the collar of his loose shirt, and then your lips are on his in an instant.

The kiss is slow, deep, and sensual; and a bit unsuspected for Billy, who can’t quite help the small moan escape from his lips.

“Guys…” Steve warns, after what feels like two seconds for you, and two eternities for Steve. “This is really unfair when all I can do is watch.”

You break the kiss reluctantly, and Billy instinctively chases your lips, making you giggle in between the small pecks you keep exchanging; but after Steve clears his throat once more, you two part for good, and you try to pull your attention back on the mixtape in your lap.

“There should be songs for everyone to enjoy on it.” Billy clarifies, voice still a little breathless from the kisses.

“So, Rod Stewart for Steve?” you tease, and Billy just huffs before stating, “Uh, my love knows no bounds, except one, it seems.”

“Okay, fair enough, because not all of us can have impeccable taste, and my love goes deep enough to overlook your lack thereof.” Steve fires back, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing again.

God, how you adore these dorks.

While the two men you call your own are still bickering in the background, you decide to put the mixtape to its use, curious on what Billy might feature on it.

At the sound of the tape player starting, the boys get unusually quiet quickly; Steve, just as curious as you, and Billy waiting and watching for your reactions carefully.

You immediately know what song’s playing as soon as the first notes hit, and the squeal that leaves your lips comes from somewhere deep within your soul.

It’s Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, and you absolutely adore this song. Billy normally teases you all about it; “What’s with you and that hippie band?” he’ll playfully taunt, but in reality you know he doesn’t hate them half as much as he claims to do.

Nevertheless, you didn’t expect the song at all, and you can’t help but sing along; something that Steve instantly joins in on.

Billy groans, trying to look annoyed, but he has a hard time containing his smile when he watches you two have the time of your life, trying to hit the high notes of the song – and failing miserably.

“Oh, I ~, I want to be with you everywhere!” Steve croaks, flailing his arm around for emphasis, making you and Billy laugh.

You’re beaming with joy throughout the whole song, and Billy’s chest tightens; he loves you both so fucking much, and he's hit with the realization once again while watching you two.

He still can’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that this is real.

That he’s actually on his way to California with the two people he adores the most, and that he gets to share this journey with you.

He hasn’t been back to the West Coast since moving to Hawkins years ago, and the prospect of it is both exciting and nerve-racking; but he feels at ease knowing that you and Steve are right there by his side.

The road trip so far has been rather chaotic, but he wouldn’t expect anything else from the two people he secretly considers the loves of his life.

By now the song has changed to a Survivor one that Steve really likes, and he catches Billy’s gaze in the rearview mirror, mouthing a silent “I love you” before continuing with his singing, hands tapping the beat on the steering wheel with quite some passion and rhythm, and Billy is unsure how he will survive this trip with the way his heart and brain keeps short-circuiting at every small thing either one of you does.

God, he’s in deep, and that used to be something that would scare him, but not anymore. Not when you have been the most patient with him throughout the last year of you three dating.

Billy knows it’s unconventional, and god knows it’s not always easy, but each time he hears Steve’s hearty laugh, or the way his name falls from your lips, he’s reminded once more just how worth it it really is.

“You okay there, love?” Your voice calls him back to reality, “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Yeah, I-sorry. I’m alright, just thinking.”

“You wanna share these thoughts?” Steve questions, concerned eyes finding his once more in the narrow rearview mirror.

Billy just shakes his head, and you don’t push him.

“Okay, anyone else as hungry as me?” Steve decides to change the subject instead, and both you and Billy nod.

“You want your triple power push pops yet?” Billy teases, glancing at the pile of sweets that still takes up quite a lot of space next to him.

„No, I was thinking something a little more savory; Mc‘s maybe?“

“Craving a happy meal, I see?”

“Fuck off. Besides, they’re fun.”

You just roll your eyes at your boyfriends antics, looking out of the window to watch the bypassing scenery and maybe spot the next large fries sign in the meantime.

You’ll probably have to switch driving duties soon as well, and another glance at the map would probably be a good idea too. If the driving stays as smooth as it has been so far, you might be able to make it to Albuquerque, New Mexico, by the end of tonight. The three of you just have to find a somewhat decent motel for a couple of hours of sleep, and then it should only be 13 more hours till California from there in the morning.

The mixtape is now playing a Mötley Crüe song, you notice, because is it really one of Billy’s mixtapes if it doesn’t feature at least one metal tune?

You doubt it.

Humming along quietly, you continue your quest for a nearby diner, eyes scanning the surrounding area while the sun slowly starts to get lower, and your boys keep joking around in the background.

“Billy, stop it, you little shit.”

Glancing at your two boyfriends, you can’t help but smile at the scene.

Billy and Steve are sitting next to each other, sharing the booth seat right across from you, and Billy keeps hogging the last fries, seemingly trying to feed them to Steve before eating them himself instead.

His laugh is loud and earnest, and it fills both the surrounding space and your hearts with an unimaginable warmth. You watch him gaze at Steve with loving eyes, before shaking his head in slight disbelieve.

“I just don’t understand how you fell for this the fourth time.”

Steve playfully pokes Billy’s side at that.

“It’s ‘cause I keep thinking you’ll be a considerate boyfriend and share.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, pretty boy. I forgot you’re a hopeless optimist with a short memory span. Here-“

“No, I’m not falling for this again.”

You watch the two fool around like that for a little while longer, before letting your eyes wander briefly through the rest of the restaurant. It’s not particularly busy, and the booth you picked out is rather hidden.

You’re almost done anyways; the burgers and nuggets long since finished, with only their cardboard packaging remaining on the table in front of you.

Well, those and Steve plastic dalmatian dog toy, that kind of looks like a cow.

“They sure provide some quality offerings in those happy meals.” Billy had commented dryly, upon seeing the supposed dog, earning him a crumbled-up napkin straight to the face from Steve.

With the boys still fighting over the last few fries, you decide to clean the dining table up a bit, collecting some of the trash on your tray and carrying it to the nearby cart.

By the time you’re back at the table, you’re boyfriends have managed to munch down the last of the fries; except for one that they saved for you.

So considerate; but you decline it when Billy offers to feed it to you. Instead, you steal his coke, taking a big swing from it before getting up again.

“Come on boys, we should get back on the road.” You state, because someone needs to keep the time in mind - and with the way that Steve’s absentmindedly fidgeting around with the plastic toy, and Billy’s on his third yawn within the last two minutes, you doubt it will be either one of them.

How they can go from hyperactive kids to sleepy toddlers in the span of seconds is worth a study in itself, you think, before watching Steve pull desperately on a push door.

Yeah, the thing with the study seems about right.

It’s quiet in the car now, except for the gentle music playing in the background and the soft snores coming from your boyfriends.

Steve had been the first one to knock himself out on the passenger seat, and after talking a little bit more with Billy, and him making sure that you’d be alright driving by yourself without any conscious company for a bit, he ended up falling asleep as well.

There’s barely any other cars on the highway, and the darkness of the night has slowly started to settle in all around you. It’s a peaceful and quiet atmosphere, one that’s only amplified by the Roxy Music song that’s currently coming through the speakers.

You hum along to it, enjoying Bryan Ferry’s melancholic voice and the comforting feeling that the moment provides.

Glancing over to Steve, and then to Billy, you can’t help but smile to yourself at their image.

Steve’s still holding the tiny adnomination of a dog tightly in one hand, forehead pressed against the window, and you wonder if you should wake him up, because the sleeping position looks anything but comfortable.

Billy on the other hand, had decided to get one of your Sweatshirts from the trunk earlier, bunching it up as a makeshift pillow. But he’s been moving around too much, and now he’s simply clinging to it in his sleep, with his head leaning back against the Camaro seat, lips parted as little huffs escaping him every now and then.

You wonder what either one of them is dreaming about, quietly hoping it’s something pleasant, before turning your attention back towards the empty road in front of you.

Steve is the one to wake up first.

It makes sense, you think, because he’s probably been sleeping the longest so far.

When he turns his head to you, eyes still heavy from the previous slumber, you have to stifle a laugh because his hair looks like it’s been having a mind of its own, sleepwalking into every possible direction, and instinctively you smooth parts of it out with your free hand.

“It looks like your hair is trying to get away from you, Steve.” You tease with a quiet giggle.

“Make it stay.” He mumbles, voice groggy, and head evidently still clouded with sleep. “Don’t let it get away.”

“I’m trying,” you promise, stroking his hair carefully, until he slips back into sleep, and you watch him with fond eyes.

He wakes up again 15 minutes later, and this time he’s more conscious. His hair looks less wild now, too, but he still asks you to play with it.

“Feels nice.” He whispers, leaning into your hand, and you laugh quietly, mindful of the fact that Billy’s still sleeping.

“You’re aware that I'm currently driving, right?”

“Mhm, just a little bit longer, please.”

“Fine.”

“What’s that playing?”

“Slave to Love.”

“You tryin’ to tell me something?”

You laugh again softly, before shaking your head. “No, just in the mood for Bryan Ferry.”

“Like, carnally?”

“No, dingus. Spiritually. Although now that you mention it, don’t give me any ideas.”

“Hm, don’t let Billy hear you.”

“He’s still fast asleep.” You observe after a quick glance into the rearview mirror.

“He is?” Steve mumbles, before turning his head back around, trying to see for himself.

“Why? What’s going on?” You question quietly when you see the slight worry in Steve’s tired eyes.

“Does he seem odd to you?” He whispers, voice and words so hushed, you almost would have missed it.

“He’s been a little quiet today.” You acknowledge, looking back at the day, “But I don’t blame him. This trip is exciting but it’s also a little scary. Especially for him.”

“Hm.” Steve hums, as if deep in thought. “I’m a bit worried about him.” He admits carefully.

“’I’m scared that he’ll retreat back into himself. That being in California will be too much, but he won’t want to say anything because he doesn’t want to ruin our little summer holiday.”

You’re quiet for a while, reflecting on the events of the day and Steve’s words.

“I get what you mean, but I think we should be talking to Billy directly about that, instead of speculating on how he’s feeling.”

“I’m not trying to speculate.” Steve defends in a whisper, “I’m just worried that this trip is going to bring up a lot of his old trauma and baggage, and instead of talking to us about it, he might feel the need to push through it all by himself, because the trip is supposed to be fun.”

You’re silent again while you set a turn signal, moving over to a different lane, before speaking up again softly.

“You certainly have a point, and it has crossed my mind too, but I think that we should try talking to him first. Maybe we have to be a bit more reassuring and determined in reminding Billy that whatever it is he’s feeling, we’re not leaving, and he’s not being a bother.

That no matter what’s coming up emotionally for him during the trip, he won’t have to go through any of it alone; won’t have to face any of these painful memories all by himself.”

“Yeah, we should definitely do that,” Steve mumbles, before adding, “I’m just always a little worried about smothering him, you know. He can be so stubborn sometimes and-“

Billy suddenly starts moving a little with a small groan, and it has Steve and you stopping in your tracks.

“Maybe we should adjourn this conversation.” You propose, voice hushed, after Billy has settled back into his seat, seemingly still fast asleep.

“Right, that might make sense. And then tomorrow we’ll figure the rest out together because we are a threeam team.” Steve jokes quietly, a proud look on his face at his pun.

You just groan, but there’s a small smile on your lips regardless, although it’s quickly replaced by a big yawn.

“You want me to take over with the driving?” Steve offers, and you gently shake your head.

“No, but maybe keep your eyes open for any possible motel signs.” You suggest, and Steve nods his head in understanding.

“Yeah, a comfy bed and some more sleep does sound appealing.”

Steve’s quiet for a while and then he suddenly states, “You know I fucking love you, right?”

You look over at him, eyebrows raised in surprise at the unsuspected admission.

“I just-I don’t think I say it enough, you know. And I fear that with all the teasing it might get drowned out sometimes. So, I just want you to know that I fucking love you. I really do. You still make my heart speed up with each of your smiles and I’m really excited about this trip we’re taking. Oh, also there’s a motel sign to your right.”

The motel Steve ended up spotting turned out to be rather nice. At least if the bright, non-flickering neon lights are anything to go by.

Riverside Mill Motel it advertises in bright pink letters – yet there’s not a single mill or river in sight; but you let that pass for the night.

After parking the car on the dusty gravel, Steve had offered to get the keys while you’d try to wake up Billy in the meantime.

Getting out of the Camaro with a small groan and a stretch, you make your way around the car towards Billy’s side.

He’s still fast asleep, entirely unfazed by the sound of the car doors opening and closing again. His face is still pressed against your hoodie, and you can’t help but smile at how cute and peaceful he looks.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you whisper, voice soft, and low, brushing a few strands of his hair out of his face carefully. His eyes flutter slightly at your touch, but otherwise he stays asleep, mumbling something unintelligible.

You gently stroke his cheek and just watch him for a moment. Watch the way his chest falls and rises steadily; the way his long lashes brush against his freckled-adorned skin, and the way his soft pink lips form into a pout.

Probably dreaming about losing the last fries to Steve, you think with a smile.

But you’re still on a mission, and even though it pains you a little to disturb his peaceful slumber, you know you’ll have to wake him up, because carrying him to bed is not an option.

Not for you anyways.

“Billy, my love, you’ve gotta wake up,” you whisper, but the only answer you get is another incomprehensible mumble.

“We’ve reached our final destination for the night, sweetheart.”

You still caress his face gently with your hand, and he instinctively nuzzles into it, even in his sleep.

Maybe it’s because he subconsciously knows it’s you and it finally feels safe to chase the touch of a loved one. The little action certainly has your heart and chest swell with a warm and fuzzy feeling, as you continue your ministrations; whispering soft words paired with gentle touches until finally, Billy’s eyes slowly flutter open, gaze a little confused and unfocused.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you coo, “Welcome back, we made it to-“

“California?” Billy sleepily mumbles, before the gears start turning in his head for a second, and he follows his previous words up with a slightly exasperated, “The fuck am I even saying.”

You laugh at that, and something in Billy instantly shifts at the sound. There’s a certain clarity in his eyes when he looks up at you again, pure adoration written all over his features.

“Hey..” he whispers, voice still raspy with sleep, but there’s an undertone to it that you know all too well, and it has you shaking your head in amusement.

“Oh, don’t even start, Casanova. We’re going straight to bed.”

“That’s what I was about to suggest-wait, where are we exactly?”

“Somewhere close to Albuquerque.”

“Really? We actually made it this far?”

“You questioning my driving skills, Hargrove?”

“No! Ma’am! Wouldn’t dream of it.” The smile on Billy’s face is dopey and slightly suggestive, but it’s also traced with sleep, and you sigh.

“Alright, big boy let’s get you to bed.” You state, while opening the car door wider, so Billy can step out.

“Hey! Take me out to dinner first, lady.” He mutters under his breath before laughing quietly to himself.

Jesus, Steve is really rubbing off on him. Not that you mind, but still.

“Didn’t you forget something, handsome?” You call after Billy, once he's making his way towards the motel building with a little too much determination and self-assurance for someone who doesn’t actually have any real clue of where to go.

Your words have him stopping in his tracks in an instant, and he quickly turns around, making his way back towards again you with big strides.

“You’re right, sorry.” He mutters, while engulfing you in a hug that takes you by surprise.

“Thank you for driving and getting us here safe.” He mumbles against your ear, before planting a big wet kiss on your forehead.

“Love you forever.”

Sleepy Billy still seems awfully similar to drunk Billy, you notice with a soft smile, and his sweet action almost made you forget why you had called him back over in the first place.

The luggage.

You won’t have to take all of it with you, just the valuables and the shared bag with the toiletries, because Steve told you earlier that he really craved a shower.

When you go to the trunk to get the things, Billy follows you like a lost puppy, before subtly slipping his big hand into yours, gazing down at you innocently while waiting for your reaction.

God, he can be such an utter sweetheart-

“Hey! To the handsome fella with the bedroom eyes, and the lady that looks like zombie stand-in for the Thriller music video, meet me in room 245.” Steve’s voice calls out, and you spot him on the balcony of the second floor, waving with what seems to be a pair of keys.

“What’s that fucker thinking?” Billy mumbles quietly.

“My thoughts exactly,” you grumble.

A zombie stand-in. Bold coming from a guy who-

Whatever. You’re too tired for this.

With the duffel bag in one hand, and Billy in the other, you make your way towards the motel complex.

No matter how big the bed might be, you think, you’ll definitely accidentally kick Steve out of it at least once tonight.

The motel room ends up being not too bad for, well, a motel room.

Most of its decorations and furniture are kept in deep orangey colors and dark brown tones, giving the room a slight 70s vibe. It doesn’t look to dusty or weirdly stained either, so you make your way towards the bed without much hesitation.

“You wanna sleep in the middle?” You offer Billy, and he looks a little surprised, but that quickly fades and instead he nods his head quietly.

“If that’s alright.”

“Of course, it is.”

Your gaze lingers on him for a moment before turning your attention back to the brunette.

“Hey Steve!” You call out.

“Yeah?”

“Catch.”

And without any further notice, the duffel bag is flying his way. Steve manages to catch it, looking slightly confused for a moment before he remembers his wish for a quick shower.

“Thanks!” he chirps, “You know where to find me. I’ll be back in a flash.”

He’s about to step into the small bathroom, but then he turns around again.

“Forgot the most important thing,” he states, making his way back towards you and Billy on the bed.

You look at him a little confused.

“I’ve already locked the door and took care of the curtains, what-“

“Not what I’m talking about,” Steve interrupts.

“Haven’t given either one of you any good night kisses yet,” he mumbles, “You two might be fast asleep once I’m out of the shower again, so this-“ he pecks your lips, “Is for you, in case I don’t get to do it again tonight.”

Your eyes soften at his adorable gesture, and you kiss him back with ease.

“I love you, my little zombie girl,” he whispers, “And I hope you have the bestest sleep, and I can’t wait to keep kissing your pretty face in the morning.”

Under different circumstances you would have probably countered his little jab, but you let it slide, because Steve’s been exceptionally sweet tonight.

And you’re also really tired.

“Love you too, Stevie,” you mumble into the kiss, “Don’t slip in the shower, and come join us really quickly again, okay?”

“Hm, god knows I’ll try,” he whispers before brushing his nose gently against yours.

“Night, my love.”

Night Stevie boy.”

He smiles at you before moving over to Billy, who’s stripped himself of everything, but his boxers, and has already slipped under the covers of the bed.

“Now to you, my beautiful boyfriend. I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day, and it’s a shame that I won’t get to kiss you all night as a way to compensate for all the kisses I’ve missed, but we have to start somewhere so this-“ brushing his lips gently over Billy’s, “Is for you; and for me.”

Their kiss deepens quickly, and you watch the way the two men move in synch, before breaking apart again with a pant.

You know that their longing for each other tends to pent up more during the day, because they always have to be so restraint and mindful of how affectionate they can be with one another in public.

They can’t just lean in for a kiss, the way they usually do it with you, and you know that it pains them both.

You watch how their kiss grows a little desperate; how Steve’s hand grips a fist full of Billy’s curls trying to keep him close, and how Billy moans right into the it.

It’s a sound that goes straight to your core each time, and it’s no different now, even though you’re beyond sleepy.

But then all of a sudden Steve stops and pulls away for good. Billy groans unsatisfied, trying to pull his boyfriend back by the loop of his jeans, but Steve swats his hands away, laughing.

“This is for you teasing me all day, you little minx,” he tells Billy, “Maybe if I’m feeling gracious you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

Billy huffs at that, but his eyes are sparkling mischievously.

“Oh, Stevie baby, two can play a game. If you think I’ve been teasing you before you haven’t seen the best of it yet, pretty boy.”

“Pah! Then it’s on, Hargrove, because I’ve made you beg before, remember? And I’m sure I can make you beg for it again.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, though it is amusing to watch.

“So, no good night wishes for me?” Billy observes when Steve makes his way back to the bathroom.

“Ah, fuck.” Steve turns around once more, and it has all three of you laughing.

“I’m already messing with your head, it seems.” Billy teases, and while his voice has a cocky undertone, his eyes gaze up at Steve with utter love and longing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Hargrove. Don’t let it get to your dick or your ego though.”

Billy just sticks out his tongue at that.

“Alright, Hargrove, one more good night kiss for you!” This time he carefully plants it on Billy’s forehead, before nuzzling his nose against his. “I hope you have the bestest dreams and I can’t wait to beat you tomorrow at your own teasing games.”

“You wish! But I’d like to see you try.”

“Just you wait, you’ll see me try and win.”

“Go shower, Steve, and dream on.”

“We’ll see. good night, loverboy.”

“Night, Stevie. Love you lots.”

“Love you more.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Wanna bet-“

“Guys! Do you mind taking your dick measuring games elsewhere. How do you even manage to make everything into a competition?” You huff, before adding with a teasing tone, “Besides, isn’t it obvious that I’m the one who loves you two the most, otherwise I wouldn’t be putting up with any of this and-“

You’re interrupted suddenly by four tickling hands, and the laughing voices of Billy and Steve.

“She’s the biggest brat in the universe, isn’t she?” Steve observes.

“Uh-huh, should probably teach her a lesson about that.” Billy adds with a grin, his hands still tickling you relentlessly.

“Guys, stop that’s so unfair.” You plead, voice giggly, trying to squirm away in between fits of laughter but to no avail. The shenanigans continue until you’re completely breathless and begging, and it’s only then that the boys show you some mercy.

Your men are almost as much out of breath as you are by the end of it, and Billy lets himself plop down unceremoniously on top of you.

“Alright,” Steve states, before getting up from the bed, “I should probably head into the shower now, and you should really get some sleep, we still have quite the journey planed tomorrow.”

You just nod, too exhausted for anything else, and Billy gives him the most unmotivated thumbs up you’ve ever seen.

Steve’s quick to disappear into the bathroom after that, while Billy helps you out of your summer dress.

You two curl up in bed quickly, exchanging sleepy I love you’s, lazy kisses and good night’s. You can still faintly hear Steve’s voice coming from the shower, singing some Olivia Newton-John song, and you smile at the mental picture of it, before drifting off to sleep.

You wake up to the unsettling feeling that something is wrong.

Something is missing and you find out quickly that you’re kind of right, because Billy isn’t next to you anymore.

At first, you just think he must have cuddled up more towards Steve or something; but that thought gets quickly discarded when you look over to your dark-haired boyfriend, who’s taking up most of the bed, classic starfish position, with Billy nowhere to be seen.

You try to ignore the way your heartrate picks up, straining your ears for any small sounds, because maybe Billy’s in the bathroom, but there’s no light coming from beneath the door, and you can’t hear anything out of the ordinary either, so that’s probably not right.

Slipping out of the bed carefully, you go looking for your dress, but you have absolutely no clue where Billy lazily threw that one earlier, so instead you settle with Steve’s t-shirt, that’s actually Billy’s, but Stevie-sticky-fingers likes to bend these little rules of ownership.

After being somewhat modestly dressed, you carefully make your way towards the door, mindful of the softly snoring boyfriend behind you.

The door isn’t locked, you notice, something you’re pretty sure you did earlier, and the subtle worry inside of you rises up once again.

Taking a deep breath, you open it, and peak your head outside first, but there’s nothing.

The balcony in front of you is completely empty and left in the dark with no sights of Billy.

God, this can’t be happening, you think, and now you try to remember whether or not you saw Billy’s car keys on the nightstand.

But he wouldn’t just leave like that, would he?

You think about waking Steve up, when suddenly, you see it.

There’s a flicker of a cigarette, and the shadow of a hunched-up figure sitting on the steps of stairs.

You’re not sure how you managed to miss that silhouette two seconds ago, but the longer you look at it, the more you’re convinced that it’s Billy.

“Billy?” you whisper his name lightly into the night, “What are you doing out here?”

His head whips around at the sound of your voice; he looks like he’s been crying, and you feel your heart sink and shatter at the sight.

Oh no.

Ignoring the fact that both your feet and legs are completely bare, you hastily make your way over to your boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He tries to turn away again, mumbling something about it not being a big deal – but it has to be if he’s out here at god-knows-what hour, sitting alone, crying and smoking, while his partners are peacefully sleeping two doors down.

Or three.

You didn’t actually count.

“Billy, hey,” you whisper, after sitting down next to him and carefully cradling his face in both of your hands, giving him no choice but to look at you.

You see his lips tremble slightly, and his eyes are getting teary again. He tries hard to blink them away, but it’s just no use because they keep coming, and you can see that he’s frustrated with himself.

“Oh, my love,” you whisper, voice endlessly soft and so full of understanding that it breaks Billy’s last restrains, and he reaches out and hugs you, really hugs you, like his life’s depending on it.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and clings to you with such desperation and need, like you’re the one thing that’s keeping him afloat in the undoubtedly tumultuous sea of emotions he’s currently lost in.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles over and over again, like a single prayer; and all you can do is hold him and repeat your own little prayer, that it’s alright, that it’s okay, and that he can just let it all out; you’ve got him.

You still don't know what's wrong, what's got him so upset, but you don't want to push him right now.

You're not sure how long you two end up sitting there on the cold metal stairs of the motel, underneath a starry sky, until Billy's tears cease, and he mumbles, “I'm sorry, we haven't even made it to California yet and I'm already ruining the trip.”

“Oh, honey, no!” You whisper, “Billy, my love, you haven't ruined anything!”

And Billy gently lifts his head at that, looking at you with wide eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “No?” He sniffles, and it breaks your heart all over again.

“No, Billy, you haven't ruined anything. I promise!”

“But I woke you up. You should be sleeping, and you-you're not supposed to see me like this, I-“ His voice sounds so utterly raw, that you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and skinned alive.

Billy curls up into you again, hiding away in your soft embrace, and you gently brush your hands through his hair before asking, "You wanna tell me what's got you this upset, my love?”

Your voice is nothing but patient and loving and everything that Billy needs in this moment.

“Bad dream,” he mumbles, and before you can even remind him of the fact that he's supposed to wake at least one of you up he states:

"I know, I should have told you, but it wasn't that bad. It really wasn't! I just, I couldn't fall back asleep after it; I kept worrying, and it all got too much, and I thought maybe a smoke and some fresh air could calm me down, but the thoughts just kept coming and they wouldn't stop and-“

“What kind of thoughts?” you whisper.

Billy's quiet for a while, before he mumbles, in the smallest voice you've ever heard.

“My mom.”

Another heartbeat of silence fills the summer night air, and then Billy whispers, almost unintelligible, “Kept thinking about my mom.”

“Oh, Billy.”

The revelation doesn't come that surprising; you've assumed something along those lines, but it breaks your heart still.

You decide to sit down on his lap, so he can face you fully.

He instinctively wraps his arms more securely around your sides, and you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, before playing softly with the strands of his hair, a habit that you know puts him at ease.

“Tell me more about it,” you whisper, before leaning your head gently against his shoulder, looking up at him with eyes full of patience and love, and Billy swears he could melt right then and there.

But he's quiet for a while once more.

There must be a pond somewhere near, you think, because you can hear frogs croaking in the distance, and there are still some crickets chirping a summer night tune.

You watch Billy's eyes wander unfocused over the horizon, and then the hand on your waist tightens before he whispers:

“I still miss her. I know it's silly; especially after all this time and considering what she's done, but I still miss her.”

“It's not silly,” you reassure him, “It's not silly at all.”

“Well, but it feels silly. It feels childish and wrong to miss her. And I thought I had that under control, at least while we were in Hawkins, I did; but now that-that we're going back to California, I fear that she's going to be everywhere.

And I don't just mean the memory of her; I mean actually her.

I'm scared that I will see her in any person that resembles her looks, even slightly. And that I will be both, relieved and disappointed each time it isn't her.”

“Oh, my love.” You mumble, voice pained, and slightly unsure of what to say.

“I just-I just want to understand it, you know? I just want to understand why she left me all alone with him, when she knew exactly what he was capable of. I want to understand why she wouldn’t come and get me like she promised. If it was something that I did, that made her-that made her never come back; I know I couldn’t protect her, but I-“

“Oh, Billy, no! Billy, you were a kid!” You whisper, cradling his face in both of your hands.

“You were a kid, Billy! There’s nothing that you could have done that would warrant the fate you got. You were a fucking child, and it was never your responsibility to keep your mom safe. If anything, it was the other way around, love. She was supposed to keep you safe; both of your parents were, and they both failed miserably; but that was never your fault!”

The tears are back in Billy’s eyes, and by now you’re sure they’re back in yours too.

“You know what the worst thing is?” He whispers, voice on the verge of breaking again, and you pull him as close as humanly possible.

“The worst thing is that I would forgive her in a heartbeat. Like, how pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic at all, Billy. It really isn’t.” You state with a determined shake of your head.

“After everything that happened to you, the fact that you still haven’t given up on your mom is more a reflection on how much you want to still see the good in her, regardless of what happened. And I think it’s natural for you to miss her, especially ‘cause you’ve never gotten any real closure. It makes sense that you would long for answers.”

“Even after all this time?”

“Even after all this time.” You confirm gently.

“A wound like that doesn’t just heal because some time has passed. And it probably doesn’t help that your relationship to her is so complex; because you associate both, really happy memories with her, and really painful ones; and it’s hard to mend those two with one another and try to make sense of it all; because it just really doesn’t.”

Billy looks at you, glossy-eyed and a little shy.

“You really think so?”

“Oh, you bet I do.”

There’s the hint of a smile gracing Billy’s face before he suddenly gets worried again.

“And you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Billy, what would I be mad about?”

“Me,” he whispers, “This trip is supposed to be relaxing and fun and just overall good times, and instead we’re sitting outside of a motel, crying because I-“

“Because you miss your mom; and you have every right to miss her, just like you have every right to have mixed feelings about her, or have a wish for closure. Whatever that might look like.”

You’re quiet for a moment, contemplating your next words carefully.

“Billy, do you want to know a secret?” you whisper, and you watch him furrow his brows slightly before nodding his head softly.

“Do you know why I wanted to go to California out of all places? Do you know what I’m most excited about seeing there?”

Billy shakes his head lightly, and you continue:

“It’s because you always talk about it with the biggest, most beautiful smile on your face. Because loving you made me love California. It’s almost like it’s an extension of you. And I’ve only ever seen it through your eyes, and I can’t wait to see it through my own.

But the thing I’m most excited about; the thing I can’t wait to see, is for you to be back there. For you to be back at the ocean, back in your element, to witness you burry your feet in the soft sand like you used to as a kid.

To see you reunite with a place you’ve been craving and yearning and dreaming about for the last three years. I can’t wait for you to show me and Steve around; to get to make all these amazing memories with you – with you and Steve because I love you both so much.”

Taking another deep breath, you add, “And Billy, whatever might happen within the next three weeks, you won’t have to go through any of it alone. You won’t have to face any of it by yourself, you have me and Steve right here by your side now, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Billy is sniffling again, eyes teary and touched, and you gently kiss the small droplets from his cheeks, ever so softly.

“But Billy, in order to be of help, you have to talk to us. I’d like to think that I know you very well, but even I can’t read your mind; and the only thing more painful than knowing that you’re suffering through old wounds and memories is knowing that you’re suffering through it alone.

I know I won’t be able to take away all the pain or the hurt you might be feeling, but it might soothe some of it, if you’re sharing it with me, with me or Steve.”

Billy looks at you again with those piercing blue eyes, the ones you fell in love with over a year ago, and this time they are full of adoration and wonder.

“I don’t deserve you.” he whispers, and you shake your head silently, hands still cupping his face.

“That’s the thing, Billy, you do. You do deserve me, me and Steve, and all kinds of good things in this world, hell you deserve half of California at the very least if you ask me.”

The little laugh that leaves Billy’s lips is small and timid, but it’s still something, and you hold on to that.

You gaze into each other’s eyes once more. He’s so close, you can count each and every freckle on his already sun-kissed skin.

God knows you and Steve have tried doing that a hundred times before, failing miserably each time, because you always get distracted by the loving look on Billy's face, so full of patience and adoration, while your fingers keep tracing every single dot on his face.

His lips usually twitch in a smile while you try hard not to lose count, or give into the growing urge to kiss him, the longer your eyes linger on his beautiful face. It’s infuriatingly impossible, really. But one day, you will be able to count them all, each and every fucking freckle.

Or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“You wanna get back to bed and try for another few hours of sleep?” you question, hands still tangled in his hair.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Okay, let me just-“ you’re cut off by your own squeak, as Billy decides to get up, with you still in his arms.

“Billy, what-“

“Shh, just let me carry you at least. Don’t want to let you go just yet.”

You can’t argue with that, and so instead you curl more up in his embrace, legs securely wrapped around his waist and arms flung around his neck.

“Still so strong,” you mumble quietly, slightly in awe, and Billy laughs softly.

“Gotta be able to take care of my girl at least.”

You nuzzle his neck at that, trying to hide your smile.

His girl.

That still gets you every time.

When you step back into the motel room, Steve is still knocked out, but he wakes up slightly when the bed dips significantly because of you two.

“What’s going on?” he mumbles, hair tussled, and eyes puffy.

“Had a little conversation.”

“At what, three in the morning?” Steve raises his head, slightly alarmed, and the worried furrow between his brows deepens when he realizes that both Billy and you have been crying.

“Shh, it’s okay. We’re okay now, I’ll tell you everything in the morning.” Billy soothes, trying to keep Steve from completely waking up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, had a bit of a melt-down, but our girl helped me through it. I promise I tell you everything after sunrise.”

Steve huffs something you can’t quite make out, but he seems convinced enough, because he snuggles closer to Billy, before carefully kissing his tear-stained cheek.

“Love you so much,” he murmurs, “Got me all worried and shit.”

“Don’t be, I’m okay now – we both are.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head, though you doubt Steve can see it in the dark.

“Let’s try to get at least a little bit more sleep.”

You nuzzle into Billy’s left side, while Steve occupies his right, and Billy let’s out a satisfied little sigh, before kissing each of your foreheads gently.

“Love you two crackheads so much.” He whispers, “Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“Always,” you mutter, sleep already taking over half of your brain, and the last thing you notice is Steve’s hand brushing against yours, trying to hold a part of you too.

You wake up the next morning to someone playing gently with your hair, and soft kisses being peppered all over your face.

“There she is,” Billy’s raspy voice coos once you slowly open your eyes.

“Hey, there sweetheart,” He whispers, “I’m sorry I’m waking you up like this, but we need to get going. Steve’s already in the car outside waiting, and you need to get dressed.”

“Hmm, don’t wanna.” You huff, voice tired and ruff.

“I know, love, but can’t carry out of this motel room in just your panties. You can go back to sleep right after; you just gotta help me slip you into your dress, and then I’ll do everything else.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Billy keeps true to his words, and after getting you dressed into your summer dress, he carries you carefully to the Camaro, where you fall back asleep almost instantly.

You’re not sure how many hours have passed when you wake up again, but you feel a lot more well rested. You can hear the faint sounds of some music and the hushed voices of your boyfriends talking, and in this moment you just feel completely at peace.

“Ah, the little snore-snurf decided to join us again.” Steve observes with a smile, once he notices you’re awake, and you can hear Billy try to bite back a laugh.

“Steve, come on, she might be a snore-snurf, but she’s our snore snurf.”

“You know what, fuck off, the both of you.” You grumble, although you can’t quite hide your smile either.

“You feeling any less tired?” Billy questions, turning around from the passenger seat, to get a better look at you.

“Yeah,” you confirm, before remembering the events of last night, and you whisper, “How are you doing?”

Billy’s eyes soften at the concerned look on your face.

“Better,” he states, “Talked to Steve about it too,” he adds, and Steve gives you a little thumbs up, his brown eyes finding yours in the rearview mirror.

“I made him promise to communicate with us better, and I want either one of you to wake me next time.” His voice is still soft, but there’s also a seriousness behind it, and you nod your head in agreement.

“You hungry yet?” Billy inquires, once you’ve sat up straight again in your seat.

“Why, do you still have a spare fry to offer?” you tease, and it has both of the boys laughing.

“No, but we had a little rest earlier, getting some quick breakfast, and I saved some pancakes and orange juice for you.”

Your eyes light up at that, partly because of the prospect of food, and partly because it’s a rather sweet gesture.

“Oh, well someone’s awake now,” Steve teases, and you stick out your tongue before turning your attention back to Billy.

God, you really fucking love these guys.

Despite the pancakes being rather cold, they taste amazing, though it might be your hunger talking and making that verdict.

Still, Billy watches you with loving eyes. He wants to talk to you about last night, properly thank you for it too, but that’ll have to wait for now, because you still have some hours to go, till California.

You’ve made it halfway through Arizona already. He offered Steve a while ago to flip driving duties, and it seems that Steve is finally ready to take him up on that.

And so, a little while later, Billy’s the one driving, you’re back on the passenger seat, and Steve is having the time of his life in the backseat with all of his sweets.

He’s the purest dorks of them all.

You catch Billy glancing over at you, and you smile. He mirrors it, eyes so soft and full of love that you have to stifle the urge to just crawl into his lap and never ever leave again.

He makes you feel like you’re something truly special. Both of your boys do, and while you’re not quite sure what the future holds, you know it’s going to be good if you have Billy and Steve by your side.

Looking out of the window again, you notice how some of the scenery has changed; or at least you like to think it did.

The excitement in your veins is running hot and fast because you know it won’t be long till you’re in California now.

You’ve listened to Billy and Steve talk earlier, when they were both brooding over your little map. You didn’t understand half of it, because reading maps has never been your strong suit, but what you did pick up was that it wouldn’t be long now, until you’d arrive in the sunny west coast state.

Though to be fair, it would still be another hour or two until you'd arrive at the little beach house Steve rented. Family ties and all that.

Billy notices you squirming in your seat, but he’s unaware that it’s the excitement that keeps bubbling up inside of you; instead, he thinks you might be too hot, and he rolls the windows down for a gentle breeze.

“Better, angel?” He questions, and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s talking about; you’re about to correct him, that you’re just fidgety with all the barely contained anticipation, when Steve suddenly calls out, “Oh my god, Hargrove! Is that the Boys of Summer?! Turn it up, turn it up! God, I love you and your little mixtape.”

Billy smiles and complies.

And with that the perfect summer song is blasting through the speakers.

You can feel it now, with every beat of the song that’s cursing through your veins; the freedom that’s being sung about.

It’s in the way the wind rushes in through the open window, tangling in your hair; it’s in the golden sun rays on your skin, and the big and bright smiles on Steve’s and Billy’s faces.

It’s in the love you feel for both of these men; and in this moment you feel like you’re flying, like your soul might slip out of your body and into the depths of the cornflower blue sky that’s wide, and endless somewhere above you.

“And I can tell you, my love for you will still be strong, after the boys of summer have gone.“ Steve and Billy’s voices call out on top of their lungs.

And the laugh that leaves your lips is light and warm, like the sunbeams kissing Billy’s freckled skin. He smiles at you brightly before sending you a playful wink, and then he just continues singing.

Part of you is awestruck because he doesn’t sing often; not like that anyways.

Sober and hearty and without any restrains.

Steve uses one of his jolly rancher sticks as a makeshift microphone, grinning from ear to ear when the line “Remember how you made me crazy, remember how I made you scream.“ comes on, and you find yourself joining in on their little concert, dancing away in your seat, feeling completely and wholly alive.

The song is almost done when you spot it, that cheesy ‘Welcome to California’ sign, and you cheer, pointing at it, as if Billy could’ve missed it.

He just smiles, captivated by your excitement and the pure adoration he feels for you both.

Steve somehow manages to convince Billy to pull over, so he can take at least one picture.

It ends up being three; you and Billy, Billy and Steve; and Steve and you.

While the polaroids develop, Steve excitedly gushes on how cute these pictures are going to be, and how this is really it; the beginning of a long adventure in California, and Billy smiles while he keeps on driving.

It’s barely two hours later when the sun slowly starts to set, and Billy finally, finally steers the Camaro into the driveway of your little summertime get away.

It’s a nice little beach house, and it looks warm and cozy and inviting; but you don’t quite have eyes for it now, because everyone is scrambling to get out of the car the fastest, running straight for the beach instead.

You can unpack the car later, test the bed and the television and the sturdiness of the kitchen table all in good time; but right now, you just want to beat your boyfriends at their little race to the beach.

Because you’re here.

You’ve finally made it to California; and the sun is setting over the seemingly endless ocean, giving everything a dreamy golden glow.

You watch your boyfriends strip themselves while running, trying to get to the ocean the fastest, because of course they are.

Billy’s the first one to jump into the waves, but as usual it’s a close race.

You decide to keep your dress on for now, and by the time you make it to the shore, Billy and Steve are already completely and utterly soaked in salt water; and the fact that you’re not is absolutely outrageous to both of them.

Your two boyfriends are quick in making a straight beeline towards you, dragging you with them into the fresh and salty sea.

Billy captures your lips in a searing kiss, before being jumped by Steve, whose smile might be the brightest you’ve ever seen it.

You watch them both try to wrestle in the waves, their laughter filling the air with more warmth than the sun ever could, and you know you’re home.

Because that’s what both of these guys mean to you; they’re home.

It doesn’t matter where you are, if it’s inside the Camaro, a dusty motel room, a dull franchised diner, or the most beautiful beach you’ve ever seen; you’re home, because the three of you are together; and you hope that that’s how it will always be.

________________________

And, that's it! If you've made it this far, thank you! I hope you enjoyed reading this little story!

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