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harrin-king · 3 years

Note

prompt: pre-Harringrove. Steve inadvertently sees how Neil treats Billy after a bb game or dropping off Max or something. Billy thinks Steve is going to use info against him. Steve gains his trust somehow.

Warnings for parental abuse of minors and for homophobic language (specifically the f-slur).

It’s the first game Steve’s been cleared to play in since that night and he’s fucking exhausted. He’s out of shape from the practices he’s missed, and he still can’t breathe quite right, like his nose healed wrong or something.

It was obvious to anyone watching, too. He played like shit and Billy didn’t pick up the slack like Steve thought he would. No. He just kept shooting grimaces at Steve, nervous glances at the stands, a feral narrowing of his eyes at anyone who came near him, teammates and opposition alike.

Destroying Steve’s face and Hawkin’s chances to go to the championships, all in a few weeks. Billy was something, alright.

Steve rested his beat-up, tired frame against the brick outside the gym, tucked into the same alleyway where he stood when Nancy made clear, for the second time in 24 hours, that she didn’t love him.

He tries to catch his breath, pours the remnants of his water bottle over his face, swipes his hands over his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out.

There’s footsteps outside of Steve’s alcove, voices too. The rest of the team must be done in the locker room. It doesn’t matter- whoever is walking by will breeze right past him in the dark.

But it’s not the rest of the team, there’s only one voice, only two sets of feet walking by.

“You really are pathetic, you know that?” Steve can see the speaker, a mustached man, but not much else. Whoever is on the receiving end of this comment doesn’t respond, making it impossible for Steve to guess which of his teammates is getting chewed out.

“Honestly. You were shit at baseball, now you’re shit at basketball. Your sister can play basketball. Gary’s kid from back home could play basketball and his kid was a fucking faggot. You think that reflects well on me? On our family?”

The second voice speaks up. “Not my sister.”

Billy.

There’s the sickening sound of a mass of a body hitting brick, the impact of a skull soon after.

“That’s what you’re choosing to correct me on? Don’t tell me my son is a faggot too.”

Steve’s entire body may still hurt from Billy’s fists, but it’s taking every ounce of his will to not put a stop to what he’s overhearing, to not shove this man away from his son.

“No, sir.” Billy’s voice is so quiet, so- so broken, that Steve feels stunned. There’s no bravado, no confidence. There’s just fear, numbness to what’s occurring, an indication that this has happened before and it will happen again.

“So I raised a faggot and a liar.” There’s one more blow, a kick maybe.

“You can walk home. I’m driving Susan and Maxine now.” A pause. “And the door will be locked by the time you get back.”

Billy’s father walks away. After a few moments of sickening silence, there’s a gasp of breath that morphs into a sob.

It occurs to Steve that he should do something. Leave so that Billy can save face. Run to Billy to comfort him.

Call Hopper so that this never happens again.

But before Steve can make the choice, Billy’s body drags itself into Steve’s alley.

With his head down, tucked to his chest, Billy takes a few more gasping breaths. It dawns on Steve that Billy’s crying.

“Um,” Steve clears his throat.

Billy’s head whips up, causing him to wince in pain, and then his face drains of blood. He rushes to stand.

“Harrington. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Hiding in an alley to catch my breath because I think you’ve permanently destroyed my nose.

“Just. Decompressing?”

Fury overtakes Billy’s face, then fear. It looks so foreign on him, so unlike Billy Hargrove, that Steve wants to throw up. “Don’t you dare tell anyone, Harrington. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Steve’s taken aback. “Wha-”

“I swear, Harrington.” Billy’s closer now, getting in Steve’s face. “You tell anyone what just happened, what you saw, what you-” he grimaces. “-heard. I’ll make breaking a plate over your head feel like a picnic.”

Steve just blinks at him. He doesn’t feel threatened, just concerned. Just desperate to help, to fix this. “Why would I tell anyone?”

Billy laughs, even though Steve can tell it’s hurting his head to do so. “Don’t play dumb. You have every reason to hate me. Whatever petty revenge plot is going through your head, just forget about it.”

Steve must look unconvinced because the cruel laugh slips from Billy’s face, something resembling desperation replacing it. “Please, Steve.”

This use of his name jolts him from his silence. “I’m not going to. I- I know what that’s like, shitty fathers. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that.”

Billy still looks wary.

“Last year. Jonathan Byers beat the shit out of me. When my dad saw, he… he was really upset. With me, though, not with Jonathan. Called me a pussy, a… a fag for getting beat by someone like Byers. He didn’t give a fuck that I was hurt.”

Billy raises an eyebrow, though Steve can’t decipher it’s meaning, so he presses on. “So, there. Now you know some shitty thing that my dad did to me. And that I got the shit beat out of me by Jonathan of all people. Now I can’t tell anyone about what just happened to you, cause you can double back, yeah?”

Finally, Billy looks up at him, making eye contact for the first time since they’ve been talking. He gives a sad smile. “Sure, pretty boy. But at least when your dad said it, it wasn’t true.”

Confusion runs through Steve, then realization. Billy is-

Oh.

Steve thinks about the way Billy spoke to him in the showers, the antagonistic way he’d goad on him in basketball. Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?

He thinks about sleepovers with Tommy, limbs tangling a little too close, fingers and thighs brushing when they shouldn’t.

He thinks about Billy’s eyes, so blue, like an ocean he’s never seen. He thinks about how seeing pain in those eyes made him hurt too. Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Hargrove.”

Billy looks up at him, bewildered.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home. We can stop for a burger, if you want. That game was fuckin’ brutal.”

Billy laughs and Steve thinks he sees Billy’s real smile for the first time. “Yeah. Fuckin’ brutal.”

#i hope this is what you meant! much love n thank you for the ask!!!#my writing #harringrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove

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okaybutlikeimagine · 3 years

Text

Come Inside, It’s Ok

Desc: Hop realizes that Billy is a lot like him when he was a teen- based on the song Thirteen by Big Star (bc that’s a Jopper AND a Harringrove anthem, tell me i’m wrong)

TW: referenced past child abuse, referenced homophobia, every dad in Hawkins sounds like an abusive asshole in this fic i didn’t mean it 😞

you can also read this on AO3 right here!! ♥

~*~

James Hopper hated his father more than anyone else hated the man. More than his uncle who had to grow up with the jerk. More than his mother who threatened to divorce the deadbeat seven times. More than anyone.

Hopper’s father was abrasive and loud. He joined the army because he wanted to. He gave up his individuality willingly. He shaved his head and licked the boot of The Man and acted superior for it. He looked down on a young Jimmy Hopper and barked in his face and ordered that he become a man. Quicker. Jim was only 7. He had just broken an arm at football practice. He needed reassurance and comfort. He got condescension and a mother threatening to leave. Loudly.

James Hopper was sure he was the only son in the world who hated his own father. He felt sure as hell about it when he stuck his jaw out and looked past his nose at his father who always seemed to tower over him. Even when the man only had an inch on him, he was larger- always looming. He felt sure as hell about it when he’d narrow his eyes and refuse to listen. He felt sure as hell about it when he talked back to him, and got into yelling matches with him, and slammed the door on him.

He felt even more sure the one night he got hit.

He was more than certain he was the only one. Standing there, staring this horrible bulk of a man down, Jimmy knew no one else had ever felt such a thing before. This wasn’t TV or the movies. This wasn’t a family love you cherish by the fire on a cold Christmas night. This wasn’t a father with kind eyes and a stern voice who comes into the house in the evening with his suit on and his briefcase in hand, kissing his kids and smiling brightly. This was different and he knew it.

And all of that anger and stress and feeling of certainty made him take too long to realize something crucial. Because he didn’t realize you can know something and yet still be so wrong.

That is, until Phil didn’t come to school one day.

Jimmy figured he was sick. A couple days later he figured it was that nasty stomach bug. A week later and he figured his family took a trip. A week and a few days had him itching with worry. He asked his best friend as calmly as he could. That friend looked at him like he was nuts.

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“He moved away. His mom took him out of the state last weekend. They just left.”

Jim couldn’t understand the words for a second.

“Why?”

“You didn’t know? His dad has been roughing him up for years now. He got the mom too, I think. Why do you think he was always wearing sweaters all year long?”

Jim’s heart stopped.

“His mom finally got him out. They left.”

“Why did no one say anything about it?”

“Because you don’t talk about that stuff.” Jim’s friend said, hushed and knowing, eyes turned solemn and hiding a world Jim didn’t know lived in there. In his most outspoken, lively friend. In his friend he’d known since they were toddlers.

You don’t talk about that stuff he said like he had a whole world of pain to tell. Jim knew his friends were like him- dads who were tough as nails and grunted more than spoke. It was why they all got along so well. But they never mentioned their fathers being… Jim was so sure he was the only one. Everyone else did things with their family. Everyone else seemed so perfect. At the very least they seemed better. Jim was sure.

Why did no one say anything about it? quickly morphed into Why did I never even ask?

Starting there, Jim kept a critical eye out. He watched his friends and what they were wearing. The way they moved and the changes in those movements. The words they spoke about their parents. He noticed differences and fluctuating emotions. But stil, he was only a young teenager- he never knew what to do. His mouth couldn’t form around the words he felt he should say. His brain could barely provide them. So he did for them what he would have liked- just took them out to empty fields and deep into the woods. He provided them beer and music. Sometimes, when they were splitting at the seams, he’d fight them a bit. He’d egg them on so they could fight it out. Get the anger out. Help, somehow. Inadvertently. Lord knew Jimmy sometimes just needed to punch shit. Turns out, his friends felt the same way, and often.

When his daughter Sarah came, he handled her gently and spoke to her even softer. He got into fights with his now ex-wife over his not being strict enough but Hop couldn’t find it in himself to have any kind of gruffness toward someone so soft and so innocent and so pure. She was the light of his life. She left so quickly. Even his softness and kindness couldn’t save her, and he couldn’t very well beat the shit out of her enemies like he had wished to.

And when he met Billy Hargrove on the side of the road that one dark night, having pulled him over for speeding drunkenly down the lonely streets on the outskirts of town, every red flag flew up. Every worry and fear he found within himself when he was a teen found its place once again inside of him for this boy. For his bruised face and exhausted eyes. For his lightly cut chin and short breath. Hop became young Jimmy yet again, analyzing and fearing for a world of pain he couldn’t see and couldn’t ask about. He searched hard for words this time and found all the wrong ones. He exhausted the poor boy with his inability to articulate his fears and was successful in taking him in only because he had worn him out so badly.

Still, since then, he’s been here. He’s family now. He’s out of there. In all his fumbling Hop did something right.

And yet, things still feel wrong. Billy still walks tentatively around him, like the cabin is going to crash down above him and any relationship they’ve built up is going to shatter.

Hop thinks about it so often. He thinks about Billy and sees his own friends from high school. He sees parts of himself, but sadder, angrier… more helpless. He thinks endlessly on what he can do to fix it.

~Won’t you let me walk you home from school~

A song starts playing through his record player and he’s lost again in the world of Jimmy vs. Billy. He thinks of how life used to feel simple.

This song always whisks him away to high school. The early days when life was confused and wandering and he was just coming into his own with football, not nearly a “star” yet and Joyce… Joyce was young and wide eyed and wandering just the same. By that point she hadn’t even met Lonnie yet. She was awkward and yet still so beautiful. So quiet and so stunning. Her laughter rang through the hallways and he swears he can still hear it.

This song feels like it’s for them. When he first heard it, he saw her face back when they were freshmen and then sophomores, when he used to walk her home. He always used to walk her home, before he got his car and before she got Lonnie. They’d walk so slow, wandering through the streets, lazily strolling past stores and getting slightly distracted by the people zooming past on their bikes.

He sits forward on the couch and he looks down at the tattered carpet and he hears himself as Jimmy.

”C’mon Joyce… we can hit the pool this weekend.”

“I’m busy.”

“Then… then maybe Friday I can get a couple tickets for that dance.”

“What?”

He gave her his biggest, brightest grin, knowing he caught her off guard. He smiles a little now at the thought.

”Yeah, c’mon, Joyce. I’ll take ya. I’ll get a monkey suit and you can wear a dress-”

She had laughed that bright, ringing laugh. It made him smile every time.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

“You’re gonna pass up a chance to dance with me?”

“Don’t tell me, you’re the best dancer in Hawkins?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t come find out.”

“You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Hop has a hard time thinking of himself back then. He felt so sure of everything. Of himself and what he was doing, even if he knew he didn’t know anything at all. Still, he chuckles now as he sits here, thinking about Joyce’s smile and her little nod. Thinking about him buying those tickets. Thinking about the night they had together, awkward and fumbling but bright still. His first real kiss that had real feelings to go along with it. The way Joyce walked so quickly as they headed to her home because she was so nervous. The way she never let him walk her up to her house because she was so scared her parents would ground her.

Lord does he remember the fights. The stress and the struggle of dealing with Joyce’s parents. When they came to an after-school event and Jimmy said hi to her and her dad gave her hell for it and her mom worried herself sick for a bit. She got grounded and started avoiding him. He got angry and figured fine because Gloria from his History class had been eyeing him up lately and helping him with a pretty friendly smile so it didn’t even matter.

It wasn’t more than a week that had passed before he cornered her after school and convinced her to let him walk her home again.

They wandered downtown and he guided her behind a store building, the store she now works for if he remembers correctly, and asked about that night. Asked about what he said wrong. Asked about what he did wrong.

She shook her head, said it was just her parents being “crazy, I don’t know”. He couldn’t find it in him to worry that much. When they kissed, it was still with so many feelings attached. Hop can’t remember when those feelings faded.

It wasn’t until a couple years later when a rumor started going around about Joyce’s dad being a grade A asshole like Phil’s was all those years ago that made Jim take her aside very seriously and ask her if she was okay- those couple of years ago and that day. By that point she was with Lonnie and he was getting serious about Diane. He and Joyce hadn’t talked for over a year. Still, he was worried. She insisted that her dad just liked to huff and puff and yell enough to shake her ears, but he never touched her. It wasn’t until years and years later that Hop realized that really isn’t any better. Nowadays she insists she was and is fine and he’s just found it in himself to believe her.

When Hop finally got a car, they would sit in it and listen to the radio and talk music. She was the only person who’d sit with him and actually think about lyrics and feelings and words. She was always so headstrong about… well everything but especially human rights. She wanted equal rights for everyone. She fought so hard it made Jim tired. Maybe it started with her father but it truly never seemed to end. They used to sit and theorize about meanings behind words and the messages of songs.

”Tell your old man what we say about Paint It, Black. That’ll mess him up.”

Joyce hit him with a chuckle. That was the last time in high school they really laughed together. He can still remember her laugh back then- light and free from any weight these years have brought to it.

But now Jimmy is Hopper, and life isn’t the same. It doesn’t wander and linger and hide behind stores for extra kisses that feel electric. He knows life just doesn’t work that way anymore. He feels like life has only continued with all of the bad parts and none of the good.

In the slow guitar interlude of the song, he hears voices where they shouldn’t be- distant and slightly muffled and outside the window that’s opened a bit to let some air in.

“Yeah, he’s home. The cruiser is there.”

“Then I should go-”

“No, wait-”

It’s Billy and another voice Hop thinks he can recognize. Sounds like the same cocky, lilted tone of Steve Harrington. He knows they’ve been fighting for months now. They always seem to be fighting. Hop used to get called into the school because Billy was always shoving him around that one year. Since then there’s been whispers of them causing a ruckus all over the place but Hop never gets called to check it out. He doesn’t like to ask too much about it. He’s still trying to handle Billy gently and there’s so many more things to worry about. He doesn’t have the words to ask about that.

He doesn’t have the words to explain why they’d be here, together and clearly not at each other’s throats. Why bring a fight all the way back home?

“You uh… got anything planned this weekend?”

“Nope, nothing planned.”

A pause.

“There’s uh… a stupid dance or something-”

“Billy-”

“Look I just… we can’t go, obviously but maybe… we can do something on our own?”

There’s another pause. Longer this time. Hop used to be so sure and suddenly he’s realizing yet again maybe things are the same as they were when he was young- because yet again, he doesn’t know anything.

~Won’t you tell me what you’re thinking of~

“C’mon Harrington….” there’s the confirmation Hop didn’t need. “Say something at least. Don’t just stand there thinking.”

“Billy we can’t keep running around and hiding.”

“Why not?”

~Would you be an outlaw for my love?~

“What if people find out, that’s why not! What if my dad-”

“Tell your dad to fuck off.”

“And Hop?”

Hop’s heart stops. Everything comes crashing to a halt because suddenly he’s being made to face the very harsh fact that he’s not Jimmy anymore. He hasn’t been for a long while. He’s Chief Hopper and Chief Hopper belongs to the “other” part of these young kids’ minds. Billy’s and Steve’s and El’s and Mike’s. He’s the man they’re meant to rebel against. He’s the one that doesn’t “get it” like they do.

And apparently he’s the one that Steve is worried about.

He doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t even know what to think. He knows people like that exist. He thinks he used to go to school with a few guys who were… well, into other things. He never had much to say or even think about it. Joyce was friends with them. She went out to a protest or something once in their senior year. He saw her in a car with them while he was taking Diane to the movies.

It’s not the fact that they like each other or that they want to spend time together. That’s better than them beating the snot out of each other and getting his guys called on them. It’s the fact that they’re worried about him and the fact that they have every reason to be. Hop is part of “The Man” now, and people around here don’t exactly like differences.

“I’ll figure it out.” Billy says, but Hop almost misses it, it’s so quiet.

“Billy-”

“Are you gonna fight for this, or what? Or is this just a one time thing for you to find yourself or some bullshit?”

Hop hears Jimmy in Billy’s words

”Are you not gonna fight for me?”

“Fight for you?!” Joyce had yelled. Oh, how she yelled. ”Are you serious? I… I pick and choose my fights Jim, okay? I have to.”

“That’s not very fair to me.”

“Not fair? No shit it’s not fair, it’s not fair for me either! And you… you’re not being fair to me, y’know!”

And that was it. They went separate ways. It’s so vivid in Jim’s mind- the way she stormed away and Jim drove himself home. He doesn’t remember how long it took until Lonnie joined Joyce’s picture, but it felt too soon in Hop’s ever bitter mind. He couldn’t look at her for weeks. He shoved Lonnie in the hallway any chance he got. The kid would snarl and sneer at him, but he was as scrappy as a dog and scrawnier than a toothpick- no way did he ever pick a fight. He spat words and Jimmy lunged and that was that. Hop doesn’t remember when the feelings faded, but he knows he never stopped hating Lonnie’s stupid face.

Then he started to date Diane and things were just… over.

“Alright Steve, I see-”

“It’s not that easy for me, Billy.”

“And you think this shit is easy for me?”

Hop feels bad for sitting here, still listening, but he can’t get his muscles or limbs to move him. He feels stuck, somewhere between here and the past, picturing all the ways he’s still the same and yet so wildly different.

“Well it is different for you.”

“Just because my shit’s different doesn’t mean my shit’s better. Shit is still shit, Steve.”

All the times Hop thought he had it the worst anyone could ever possibly have it.

“You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Try me, Harrington! Just try me.”

All the times Hop thought maybe his friends were exaggerating about Phil’s past. Maybe Joyce was being dramatic about things at home. There was no way a kid could feel so threatened. Not a kid as big as Phil. Not a kid as headstrong as Joyce.

There’s a longer pause from the two outside the window. The voice that comes is quieter now.

“It’s scary Billy.”

“I know it is! I… fuck I know it is.”

Not a kid as big and headstrong as Billy. It took years for Hop to believe it could happen and still, with an example living in his own house, it’s still hard to understand.

“Don’t you think it could be worth it?” That’s Billy’s voice. Hop feels his heart sink even deeper. They’re talking like they’re going to die if they’re caught. How many more times can he tell this boy he’s safe here? What does he have to do to convince him? To convince them both?

“Maybe… I think so.”

“Look, I can’t make you do anything, Steve. But if you wanna try… then let me know, alright?”

Billy sounds so tired. Hop wants to tell him to lay down and take a nap. There’s such a long pause that follows and fills the space between them.

And then suddenly there’s something blocking the sun from the window. Jim gets the wherewithal to turn and see that the two boys have got their hands tangled in the front of each other’s shirts, just like they would if they were gearing for a fight, but instead of fists flying it’s their lips locked- worlds of frustration still heavy on their brows.

Jim wants to protect these kids until the day he dies. They’re here and they’re wandering too, but their walk home is covered in speed bumps and potholes and hell maybe even spikes that he and Joyce never knew. Whatever he can do to give these kids the time and place to wander like the kids they are, he’ll do it.

Then they separate, their breathing clearly labored and mingling. Then they turn and see Jim in the window, caught like two deer in big bright headlights.

A split second later, Steve is running for the hills and Billy is left with his fists grasping at the air. Hop can’t help but laugh.

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magniloquent-raven · 4 years

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Number 73 "take mine" I'm thinking jacket sharing with Harringrove (either offering the jacket) if you have time!! 💖 💖

so. it’s not jacket sharing, i hope that’s okay!! and it’s actually a sequel to your first prompt? @bambixxblue and i were talking about a fix-it sequel where billy comes back and im weak for fix-its so i ended up with this. it’s. angsty. but also. soft? idk, i hope u like it anyway!!

basically the premise is billy and hopper were both in russia and had to break out together. posted on ao3

—-

Max turned seventeen three weeks ago. It’s hard to keep track of the days sometimes but Billy’s pretty sure he’s right. It’s hard to wrap his brain around Max being seventeen. When he pictures her in his head she’s still a bratty twelve-year-old with skinned knees who doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.

He tells Hop. Tells him about the birthdays he was there for, wonders about the ones he wasn’t. Cries a little too. Funny how easy it is to do that now. It used to be an ordeal, would burn and claw at him until he broke. He’s too exhausted for that nowadays, lets his tears fall unfettered and ignores the shame that still sneaks up on him when he does.

They have to be quiet, always afraid of being caught again. Billy’s constantly looking over his shoulder, jumping at shadows. It’s stupid to risk it, for something so trivial, but he can’t stop the words from spilling out.

“You miss her.” It’s not a question. Hop doesn’t ask that kind of shit, he just knows. Which is why Billy doesn’t respond. Doesn’t have to.

He pats Billy’s shoulder awkwardly. It’s the clumsy kind of affection a father is supposed to offer and it sets Billy off again, tears dripping down his nose and cutting streaks through the dirt smeared on his cheeks.

They’re holed up in an abandoned warehouse this time. Waiting. Always waiting. The plan is to stow away in the next cargo hold with enough space but in the meantime they’re fugitives, laying low wherever they can find empty, forgotten places.

Hop tells him about El while they wait. Billy’s heard most of his stories by now, but he listens anyway. Listens to the wobble in his voice as he talks about teaching El to read, hears the question under it all, about whether he’ll ever see her again.

Billy wishes he had an answer.

The first time Billy set foot in Hawkins, Indiana, he was seventeen, angry and wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else.

It’s three days after his twenty-second birthday the second time. An icy December evening, dark and windy. He’s exhausted. He hasn’t eaten in two days. He’s a patchwork tapestry of scars that weren’t there before, a battered effigy of the person he used to be, cobbled together with scraps of what he could salvage.

Hawkins is the same unremarkable, rinky-dink town it always was. Seeing it again is a relief and a punch in the gut all at once. It’s all he’s wanted for three years, but it’s terrifying.

They end up in Loch Nora, of all places. The Byers’ old house was empty, and going too far into town is risky.

It doesn’t feel real. Standing on Steve Harrington’s front porch, suddenly all too aware of the layer of sweat and grime on his skin. This place is too clean, too quiet. Peaceful, in a way that can’t be true.

Billy chews on his thumbnail, stands behind Hopper while he bangs on the door. There are no cars in the driveway, which means at the very least Steve’s parents won’t answer the door. But there’s no guarantee that Steve even lives here anymore.

He’s getting antsy, glancing around, heart pounding.

Then the door swings open.

Billy is seventeen, half-drunk and stinking like beer, colder than he’ll let on because fucking Indiana and its shitty weather, wiping the drool from his chin when he spots him across a room, already half in love by the time he’s clambered over a couch to get a closer look.

He blinks. He’s twenty-two, pale and shivering, thumbnail still between his teeth, and Steve Harrington’s doe eyes still make him weak in the knees.

Steve’s hair is longer, brushing his shoulders, but other than that he doesn’t look any different. Except that he isn’t looking at Billy with thinly veiled contempt or anger.

“Hey, kid.” Hopper says. “Gonna let us inside, or what?”

Steve is silent. Staring, lips parted. One hand still on the doorknob, the other slack at his side. He sways dangerously, and Billy tenses, prepared to catch him if he falls over. He doesn’t, but Billy’s still itching to touch him.

“Am I dreaming?” Steve blurts, looking dazed, unable to decide who to look at and ending up unfocused and hazy.

Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants. The memory feels like someone else’s. A lifetime ago.

Billy bites down on his lip, battling an inexplicable, and slightly hysterical, urge to laugh.

“Dream about me often, Harrington?” Billy says, because apparently it takes more than nearly dying and spending three years as a fugitive to get over his inability to keep his mouth shut around pretty boys (or one in particular). Though now his voice comes out soft, quiet, betraying genuine sentiment. He’s not sure if that’s better or worse than the armor of taunts he used to cover that shit up with.

Probably worse.

Steve’s looking at him. Only him. Billy had almost forgotten how addictive that is. He watches Steve’s mouth open and close, tracks the way one corner curls up a little when he lets out a little disbelieving huff that isn’t quite a laugh. “More than you’d think,” he murmurs.

And Billy’s brain shuts off. There are a thousand questions stuck up there, but he can’t get a single one of them out because he’s too busy trying to get past, more than you’d think, echoing through his head in surround sound.

He’s startled out of his Steve-induced haze by Hopper’s pointed cough.

It seems like he’s not the only one, because Steve visibly flinches, “Right, shit,” he stammers, “Get—uh, get inside.” He ushers them in, glancing around, checking the street behind them.

The Harrington residence is one of those big fancy houses with more rooms than anyone could possibly need, but that means multiple bathrooms so Steve (as politely as possible) tells them they can both shower whenever they feel like it. And he fusses. A lot. All nervous hands clutching his elbows and teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek, eyes darting between Billy and Hopper like he’s sure they’ll vanish any second and never have been there at all.

Billy isn’t sure how to deal with it, so he avoids his eyes. Then misses looking at him.

An hour later they’re all in the kitchen. Billy keeps plucking at the sleeve of his borrowed sweatshirt, trying to keep calm. It’s too much, all at once. His skin feels raw, weird and tight. The overhead light is too bright, and the smell of Steve on everything is making him lightheaded. The soft detergent scent from his clothes, the shampoo Billy used when he showered (his hair is a lot longer than it used to be, it took forever to detangle it all).

Steve makes some calls. It’s late, too late to be calling people’s houses but he does it anyway.

Not long after, the front door bursts open.

Max is taller than he remembers. Rougher around the edges. Her hair is a choppy mess, auburn waves sticking out in every direction, curling around her ears, and there’s the sharp glimmer of silver in one lobe. She’s wearing a jean jacket with a torn elbow.

And she’s crying, messy and red-eyed, not bothering to wipe the snot from her nose.

“Where. The fuck. Have you been?” she sobs, shoulders shaking, and she practically trips forward in her hurry to throw her arms around Billy’s neck.

He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Feels unsteady, like he’ll fall to pieces if he moves wrong.

“I’m here now,” is all he can manage. She doesn’t need to hear about military hospitals and Russian prisons, about being kept in a cell, wondering if he’d ever see sunlight again… She doesn’t need that right now. Hell, he’s not ready to talk about it. Might never be.

He hugs her back, torn between wanting to squeeze as hard as he can, make sure she’s real, and being terrified of breaking her.

She still uses that shitty coconut-scented soap, and that’s what shatters him. He’s crying into her shoulder, clutching the back of her jacket. He used to dwarf her, remembers her being tiny and fragile, despite her fierceness, yet now she’s supporting his weight while he buckles.

They’ve never actually hugged before, he realizes, and that realization opens a door he wishes he could’ve left closed a little longer.

Guilt. Like undertow, pulling him back to harsh reality, cold steel gripping his heart, weighing it down. He should’ve been better. Treated her better. And now she’s here, crying like she actually missed him, and he doesn’t deserve it.

He pulls away, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes.

She’s still looking at him, hands on his shoulders, a wobbly smile on her face.

Billy is overwhelmed again. It must show, because suddenly Steve is at Max’s side, eyes gentle and his soft mouth pinched in a frown, “Max. Maybe give him some space.”

She clenches her jaw, probably physically holding back an argument, and nods, stepping back despite the reluctance written all over her face.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says, barely louder than a whisper. Then he can’t stop himself from saying it, again and again, gaze fixed on the floor, tears still dripping down his chin. He has to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood to finally stem the tide of apologies. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to will the world away.

“Billy.” Steve’s voice is soft. He has a nice voice, so Billy focuses on it, through all the angry buzzing in his ears. “Billy, I need you to nod if you’re listening.” He doesn’t want to, he wants to curl up and fucking die, anything but be a person right now because everything hurts and there isn’t enough air in this room and— “Billy?”

He bows his head, twitches, it’s barely a nod but it’s all he’s got.

“Okay, good. Can I touch your hand?”

Billy’s heart stutters, aches. He’s having a hard time concentrating through the burn in the back of his throat, the static drowning out his thoughts. He nods again.

Steve’s fingers are gentle, pulling Billy’s hand from where it had tangled in his hair. He hadn’t noticed the fingernails digging into his scalp until Steve took one of his hands away. It ends up pressed against something warm, soft material under his fingers, moving slow—oh. His hand is on Steve’s chest.

“Can you breathe with me? Concentrate on me, okay?”

He does.

Steve’s cradling his hand. He’s got callouses along the top of his palm, barely there but present. He’s breathing deep, calm and steady. But despite his outward demeanour his heart is racing, Billy can feel it through his shirt. He curls his fingers into the sensation, fingertips digging in as far as he can push them.

Billy almost forgets to breathe he’s so fixated on Steve’s heartbeat.

It does its job either way though, because exhaustion is starting to hit him as the static recedes. He sags, relaxes. Every muscle in his body feels leaden.

He opens his eyes, squints against the sudden light.

He’s almost afraid to look up. Afraid of being judged, of triggering another episode, so fucking terrified, all the time—

“Billy?”

His fingers twitch reflexively, tightening his grip on Steve’s polo.

“You good?” His voice is still so soft, and so close it hurts.

It takes several long moments for Billy to collect himself. Then he looks up.

Max is hovering, standing behind Steve with wide eyes, her worry palpable. Hopper looks grim, but then again, he kind of always does. He’s a respectable distance away, watching. And Steve… Steve is right there still, holding Billy’s hand and looking at him like he cares, doe eyes shining, fixed on Billy’s face.

“I’m okay,” Billy says, voice rough. He sounds like hell, but they all visibly relax anyway.

The room is silent for too long after that. It feels tense in a distant way, like it would be awkward if Billy had the energy to care, was awake enough to feel anything but vaguely fuzzy. He’s still got a handful of shirt and doesn’t plan on letting go any time soon. Steve’s the only thing keeping him upright, and he hasn’t let go either.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Max asks, her voice is small and tremulous and cuts right through Billy.

“No!” he’s quick to cut in, “No. Max. It’s…” Billy trembles, stutters to a stop. He has no idea how to explain, even to himself, let alone Max. Steve squeezes his hand. His stomach flips. “It’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him, but she doesn’t argue. He wishes he could make it better, but he’s got no idea how.

“We should all get some sleep,” Steve says.

And that’s that. His tone brooks no argument, even in a room full of stubborn assholes. Apparently, the past few years have given Steve time to hone his babysitting skills. Or maybe they’re all just as exhausted as Billy is.

There’s some squabbling about sleeping arrangements though.

Everyone insists Hopper take the master bedroom, Steve says his parents won’t know or care, his old friends did worse than sleep in that bed. They all poke at him until he relents and trudges off, bidding them a quiet goodnight.

Then Billy says he’ll take the couch and both Steve and Max yell at him.

Billy rolls his eyes. “It’s fine, guys,” he mutters. He’s not about to make Max sleep on the weird little couch (he’s done enough to her already) and putting Steve out in his own house would be shitty. “It’s not like I haven’t slept on worse.” He winces as he says it, realizing as the words come out of his mouth that it’s probably the wrong thing to say. It was meant as a reassurance, that he would in fact be fine with the couch, because at least it’s clean and warm, but all it does is make Max look sad and put a little wrinkle between Steve’s eyebrows.

“I’ve slept on this couch before,” Max says, a stubborn tilt to her jaw, “I’ll take it.”

Steve scoffs at that, “You complain every time you have to sleep on that couch, Max. Take the guest bed. Billy can take mine.” His fingers tense when he says it, and Billy realizes they’re still holding hands. His hand slipped from Steve’s shirt while they were bullying Hopper into taking the master suite, but Steve has yet to let go.

And… suddenly he wants nothing more than to sleep in Steve’s bed. But. “Only if you come with me,” he blurts.

Which is really not how he should have said that, but it’s out there now.

“Oh my god,” he hears Max mutter.

His whole head feels like it’s on fire. “Shit. I—I mean—”

“Okay,” Steve says hurriedly, then clears his throat, “Yeah. That. That works. Uh. Okay.” He’s glancing at Max awkwardly, nervous, but she just rolls her eyes. Billy barely notices her do it, too busy looking at Steve, his heart hammering.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m—” It’s her turn to look uncertain, but it’s only for a second. “Me and El are dating. We’ve been trying to figure out how to tell everyone, and—yeah. Anyway. I’m not going to judge you, or whatever.”

Well, that was not at all what Billy was expecting. He takes a moment to worry about both of them, be terrified of what would happen to them if someone found out. Then he remembers that El can kill people with her brain and Max once threatened to castrate him with a spiked bat. The knot of anxiety doesn’t dissipate but he’s freaking out less.

“How long has that been going on?” Steve asks, sounding more bemused than anything.

Max turns pink, and it’s kind of fascinating to watch. She’s flustered. That’s adorable. “Since, um. Since April.”

“Happy for you, kid,” Billy says. And he means it. He barely knows El, in theory, but really. The kid’s been in his head. He could recite every story Hopper’s told him about her from memory. He died protecting her.

He knows her well enough to know she’s good for Max, and he loves Max enough to want her to have good things.

She grins, bright and real. Billy’s fairly certain he’s never seen her that happy before, and his heart clenches.

“I’m not sure who I’m supposed to give the shovel talk to here,” Steve says, more to himself than anything.

Billy snickers, and tugs on Steve’s hand, “Like you could take either of them.”

Steve steps closer, looking faux-offended, “I’ll have you know I won a fight once.”

“Yeah, three years ago. You’re a has-been, Harrington,” Max chimes in.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I’m seventeen, dingus.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

He missed them so much. Missed something he, if he’s being honest with himself, never really had in the first place. They both hated his guts before, and he… he was a mess. Still is. Just a different kind now. But being here, being part of this, is something he always on some level wanted and…

“Oh my god, Billy, are you okay?” Max asks, concern bleeding into her voice.

He’s crying again, smiles through the tears. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #harringrove fic #a raven's writing desk #i kind of want more to this #like #el didn't even SHOW P #UP*#but it's almost 2am #rn #and #this is already so long lmao

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hartigays · 4 years

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2 for Harringrove ??

2. “The thought of losing you scares me.”

(these are supposed to be fluff prompts but we going ✈️ end of the world anyway bc i can)

it’s been six months, eight weeks, and four days since their plan at starcourt failed. six months, eight weeks, and four days since the sky turned black and red and the world grew cold. six months, eight weeks, and four days since the gate blew open and effectively ended the world as they knew it.

six months, eight weeks, and four days since billy almost died in a pool of black sludge on the grimy linoleum floors of starcourt mall.

he’s doing better. most of his wounds were shallow, save for the few that went deep enough to nearly take his life. but doc owens had a house full of supplies to suture billy up like frankenstein.

even after owens deemed him fit for travel, they stayed there for a while. billy and the rest of the party. holed up in owens’ house, trying to figure out just how they could possibly ride this out.

two weeks into their stay, they came late at night. the demo-dogs, a whole swarm of them. the group defended the house as best as they could, but it was a lost cause. they were out on the open road by the what used to be considered sunrise.

time has ceased to have any real meaning anymore, if they’re being honest. there’s no morning or night, just darkness and a cold that seeps deep into their bones and refuses to go away.

the line between the two dimensions has been all but erased. the upside down has consumed their world; swarms of demo-dogs prowl the frozen wasteland, the mind flayer takes more and more people for its army each day.

they keep running. from city to city, state to state, just barely escaping the mind flayer’s grasp each time.

the kids don’t smile much these days. el is tired more often than not, weakened and drained from the constant use of her gifts. joyce doesn’t have many soft, kind words to lend out anymore. hopper has distanced himself from everyone, both physically and emotionally. standing guard and pacing around in the night on the fringes of wherever they’ve made camp.

and steve. steve doesn’t smile softly anymore, doesn’t make his goofy jokes or try to cheer the kids up. he just grips onto his bat, wound tight and always at the ready, constantly on high alert.

billy is surprised, given his near-death experience, that he’s actually not the most fucked up person in this broken group. he supposes he was built more for a world like this than most. he’d hardened himself to the world they knew Before. this one just seems to make more sense for someone like him.

violence has run in his blood since he’d exited the womb. fighting monsters and suffering from hunger and exhaustion and living in a world devoid of warmth and happiness apparently just comes naturally to him.

that isn’t to say that billy doesn’t have a lot of regrets. he regrets not telling max that he loved her more, Before. it feels odd to say it now, like maybe he’d only be saying it because they could die at any given moment.

he regrets not going back to california to see his mom when he had the chance. he regrets being cruel to the kids he now spends every waking moment protecting. he regrets convincing himself to waste his time with someone like karen wheeler, something he only did to bury the ugly truth about himself and his desires.

billy certainly regrets not being kinder with steve.

it’d be easier, if he had. it’d be easier to tell steve now that he loves him. it’s another situation where it just seems forced, like he’s only deciding this now when there’s no one left to choose from.

that could never be the case, but billy can’t see steve thinking otherwise. it’s just. billy didn’t let himself feel it for so long. his love for steve crept up on him, from the moment they first met. there was just something about him. and the more his feelings grew, the more afraid he became. the more he lashed out and repressed how he felt.

it feels like a lost cause now. but billy doesn’t quite think things like that carry the weight of any real importance, not anymore. not when they have to fight every day just to stay alive. so, he focuses on that. on finding food, water, shelter. on protecting the party, one day at a time.

billy has had to do a lot of protecting today. they had to pull up stakes at their last camp, another demo-dog pack blowing through. they lost a lot of stuff in the process - food and water, mostly. the demo-dogs seem to learn rather quickly what items to destroy along with the people.

they drove for nearly three days before finding a dilapidated motel in a small nebraskan town. billy, steve, and nancy help hopper do a sweep and clear out any demo-dogs hiding in the shadows. they set up a perimeter not long after.

hopper takes billy and steve on a run into town for supplies. it’s been nearly picked clean by either other survivors, or demo-dogs. they’re still prowling the streets when they arrive.

needless to say, it doesn’t go very well.

billy has to see doc owens immediately upon their return; his arm was nearly shredded by a particularly nasty dog. steve had sprung in at the last moment, beating the ugly bastard off of billy with his bat. now, steve nearly paces a hole in the floor while owens works on stitching billy up.

he doesn’t know why steve is so wound up tonight. they got enough supplies to satiate the whole group, especially the kids. it was a good run.

they’re sharing a room at the motel. no one sleeps alone - it’s one of their cardinal rules. billy heads to it after they eat. steve follows after him and slams the door shut so hard it rattles on its hinges.

“the fuck, harrington?” billy hisses, sitting up in alarm. “you trying to bring a pack of dogs down on us like it’s fuckin’ judgment day?”

“you almost died again.” it’s said with an air of finality. like billy should’ve already known the cause of steve’s upset.

“that’s life now, pretty boy,” billy sighs, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes. “you really should learn how to get used to that.”

steve cuts him a glare. “you don’t fucking get it, do you?”

there’s obviously something that billy is missing here. he doesn’t quite understand what steve is so bent out of shape about.

“obviously not,” billy says, standing and moving to slip his shirt off before climbing into bed.

he doesn’t quite make it back into the bed. steve marches over and grabs his arm, stopping him before he has the chance.

“i can’t - i can’t lose you too,” steve tells him, his voice breaking. “i can’t watch you die. i won’t. the thought of you not being here, losing you, it just. scares the fuck out of me.”

billy swallows around the lump that has mysteriously formed in his throat. he doesn’t brush steve off when his hand slides down his arm, until it can grasp billy’s and tangle their fingers together. he’s pretty sure he stops breathing, though.

“you won’t,” he says, finally. “who else would keep your pretty ass out of trouble?”

“billy, i’m serious. you can’t keep putting yourself in danger like that. like you did today,” steve begs, squeezing his hand tight.

“that dog would’ve killed you if i hadn’t.”

“yeah, but it almost killed you!” steve cries, releasing billy’s hand to throw his up in exasperation.

“oh, what, so i’m supposed to let you die and just protect myself instead?” billy snaps, his voice raising an octave. “fuck off with that shit. you think you can’t handle a world without me in it? how the fuck do you think i’d feel if i lost you? you ever fuckin’ consider that?”

he’s borderline shouting now, and steve slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with surprise. billy peels his hand off, taking a steady breath. laces their fingers together again.

“there’s never going to be a time where i don’t pick your life over mine,” billy tells him. “better get used to that, too.”

steve takes a deep breath of his own. he searches billy’s eyes, before squeezing his shut and leaning in. he rests his forehead against billy’s, just breathing together for a moment.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, breaking the silence that has fallen between them.

“for what?” billy questions, his brows furrowing.

“for not doing this sooner.”

steve pulls him in and seals their mouths together. billy emits a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flying open. he feels frozen, like he’s not quite sure if this is really happening or not. but when steve starts to pull away, billy’s brain comes back online.

he yanks steve in closer, kissing him with every last bit of energy he has, and then some. steve’s hand leaves his, only for both of them to grasp onto billy’s shirt, fingers curling into the material. billy cradles steve’s face in his hands, holding him like he’s precious.

he kinda is, if billy hasn’t made that abundantly clear yet.

“i’m so fucking in love with you,” steve breathes when they break apart. “god, i can’t believe i haven’t said that until now. you’ve almost died like, five hundred times and i’ve never told you the most important thing that i could ever possibly say to anyone ever and -”

billy cuts him off, giving steve another kiss, this one warm and gentle. “it’s okay. i - yeah. i love you too. didn’t ever say it either.”

“guess that makes us both idiots.”

billy smiles running his fingers through steve’s hair. it’s long beyond reason, which is both sexy and dangerous.

“we need to cut this soon,” billy comments. “god forbid something grabs onto this damn mop while we’re out on a run.”

“i’ll let you cut mine if you let me trim your beard. it’s getting a little mangy,” steve offers, then makes a face. “god. is this what intimacy is in the apocalypse? cutting each other’s hair?”

billy snickers softly. “i think i have a few better ideas.”

“oh yeah? like what?”

taking steve’s hand, billy pulls him towards the bed farthest from the door, smiling softly. “i think it’d be better if i just showed you.”

steve pauses. and then, “oh, you mean right now?”

billy plops down on the mattress, reclining back on his elbows. he arches a brow. “what, you got somewhere to be, pretty boy?”

there’s only a split-second pause before steve is scrambling to straddle billy’s hips. steve smiles down at him, leaning down to kiss the tip of billy’s nose.

“nowhere but here, sweetheart.”

send me a number + a pairing!

#im very seriously thinking about turning this into a full blown fic #so much fun to write #thanks for the request 💕#harringrove #my fics #ask #anon

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silentglassbreak · 5 years

Note

I saw your prompts are open and I had to jump in! I love your writings for our boys, esp the fluff it makes me so soft when they’re soft💚 maybe something where they have kids and go SUPER HARD for Halloween and have really intricate family costumes that they work on, like all year and it’s just fluffy and everyone loves each other and is happy 🥺 you’re such a wonderful writer!! Thank you!!

Before we begin, I’d like to say a few things:

Firstly, thank you for requesting this. I had no idea how badly I needed to write this. It made my heart so happy to create this, and I sincerely hope it doesn’t disappoint. 🖤

Secondly, I know this one kind of goes off on some tangents, but I did my best to keep it on prompt as well as I could, but there was so much I needed to include, and so much I didn’t.

Third, let me know what we think of Riley? I kind of really loved writing her into a story with Billy and Steve, and am thinking of exploring her character more in the future. Feedback, please?

Fourth(isn’t this getting ridiculous?), I was chopping down a tree in my front yard when I got this, and literally s t o p p e d to start it. I did have to go back and finish the job, and it’s really okay, the tree was dead, but I’ve been working on this most of the night, and that’s how excited I was for this prompt.

Fifth(seriously, get on with it), I chose Hocus Pocus 150% for a real fucking reason. That movie is everything to me, and -fun fact- I’m actually named after a character in that movie! 😉 (No, my name is not Winifred)

Last(omg, rly?), if you would like a song rec for the story, I highly recommend Crystal by Stevie Nicks. It’s where I got the title, and honestly, it’s kind of the unofficial theme I’ve assigned to the Harringrove ship as a whole. If you’ve seen the movie Practical Magic, you’ll recognize it.

Now, shall we begin?

Like The Love That Had Finally Found Me

October 29, 1993 - Hawkins, IN

“Steve, you’re going to rip the fabric!” Nancy was nearly screaming at him from across the kitchen, coffee in one hand, spoon stirring in the other. “Do you want milk or half and half?” He was only somewhat listening to her by now, but he answered around the pins in his mouth, fingers working to sew the orange and yellow fringe onto the black velvet scarf.

“Uhm…” He finally tore his eyes away and looked up at the brunette girl standing in his kitchen. “Milk, please.” She nodded and poured the hot coffee into the rainbow mug that read ‘#1 Dad’. She wasn’t sure if Riley had picked it out for Steve or Billy, but either way, it made her smile to herself.

“You’re almost done. It’s going to look great,” she set the steaming cup down in front of him at the kitchen table. “unless you oversew and tear a hole in it.” Her hand came to gently rest on his. Her clear blue eyes shining up at him, he finally faltered, snipping the thread with his scissors and setting down the scarf.

He breathed a sigh that wore as tired as he felt. The last three and a half months had been absolute mayhem for him and Billy, causing the entire end of summer and beginning of fall to feel like a never ending shift. He regretted nothing.

Back in July, when Billy took their daughter to see Hocus Pocus for their regular Sunday Dad-Riley Movie Night, she came home starry eyed and as enthusiastic as a firework.

‘Daddy, that was the best movie ever! You have to come with Dad and I, to see it again next weekend! I want to be Dani Dennison for Halloween! And you can be Max, and Dad can be Billy the Zombie! That’s already his name. Did you know I’m the same age as Dani? She’s eight too! Can we get a black cat to be Binx? Please, Daddy, pleeeeease?!’

From that moment forward, Hocus Pocus had become Steve’s life. Billy was working full-time at the auto shop, so Steve had more free time to concentrate on the task at hand. And concentrate, oh he fucking did.

Steve Harrington’s life had become so much more than he had ever imagined. Eight years may be a long time to some, but for him, it was the fastest moving period of time he had ever lived for. One year after the Starcourt ‘burning’, Billy had officially recovered from his near-fatal injuries, and spontaneously confessed his feelings to Steve. It was an angry, awkward, embarrassing time for them, that led to almost a month of denial and avoidance from both Steve and Billy. In that three-week-five-day period, Billy had grown to understand that Steve needed time, and had not actually rejected him. It was a process, that Billy later decided was worth the wait.

The following six months led to the ultimate change, which was Billy finally leaving Neil Hargrove’s house and moving in with Chief Hopper as his ‘adopted’ son. Billy was almost nineteen, so they didn’t bother with the paperwork, but Hopper did bother to get to know Billy, work to understand him, and finally comfort him enough to make him feel at home.

Billy then found himself with two younger sisters, and when Hopper and Joyce married three months later, a younger brother, and a brother his own age. Steve was grateful he got to witness the change in Billy; the growth. He found himself falling for Billy harder every day, resistance dissolving a little each time he saw his toothy, devious grin.

Two years after the disaster, Steve confessed his feelings to Billy, all fast-talking and nerves frayed. Told him that he had never felt this way for anyone, let alone a boy. Told him he had been scared and weak and apologized about three hundred times for making him wait. Billy forgave him with a kiss, an embrace, and a promise that things would be different.

Billy kept his promise.

Six months later, Steve experienced tragedy in the form of his younger brother, Troy Harrington, and his wife, Angela, being fatally injured in a car accident. The loss was trying on Steve, Billy having to hold him too many nights while he sobbed and shook, asking him questions he just could answer like why? And how? And who the fuck let this happen? It took time, it took work, and it took strength to pull out of the dark place Steve had crawled into, but he managed.

Two months later, Steve was approached by Marlena Andowski, Social Services Case Worker handling case number 22496A, Riley Harrington. Riley was two years and seven months old when her parents passed, leaving her an orphan and sleeping at her Uncle’s Steve’s every night. Marlena had asked Steve if he would consider adopting Riley, and Steve said yes with no hesitation, signing paperwork, showing paystubs and rent receipts, taking drug tests, and toddler-proofing his small apartment for the long haul ahead.

It took about one day for Billy to fall head over heels in love with Riley, and only seven months for her to call him Daddy for the first time. Billy didn’t know how to feel at first, until her little hands tugged on his shirt and pointed to the pink stuffed frog at the grocery store, repeating herself, ‘Please, Daddy! Can I get the Frog?’ Steve knew when they walked in the door, stuffed toy clutched in tiny arms, glittery red nail polish on Billy’s fingers, that they were a family.

And then, almost five years later, Steve found himself sitting in the kitchen of the home Billy and him purchased, less than forty-eight hours before Halloween, sewing the last of his daughter’s costume together so that everything was just right.

Steve drank from his coffee mug hungrily, with still so much to do and a very long night ahead, when Riley came barreling into the living room, Nancy and Jonathan’s daughter Madison, in tow.

“Daddy?” Steve looked at her, eyes tired.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Her smile was sweet, beaming bright as the sun.

“Can Maddie sleep over? We want to watch Jurassic Park, she hasn’t seen it yet.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Did Maddie ask her mother if that’s okay?” He eyed the small, light-brown haired girl standing behind Riley, who was turned toward Nancy.

“Mama, can I-“ Nancy put up a hand to stop her.

“Do you have homework this weekend?” Both girls shook their heads in unison. She smirked and looked to Steve. “It’s fine with me if it is with you.” He turned his gaze back to his own little girl, smiling now.

“Okay, Jurassic Park is in mine and your Dad’s room, be careful taking it out of the VCR.” The girls squealed and made a dash for the hallway when Steve called out. “Riles!” She turned her head to him, stopped in her tracks. “Lights out at eleven!” She grinned wide.

“Midnight?” He narrowed his stare and pursed his lips.

“Eleven-thirty, final offer.” She nodded her head and she was gone.

Billy opened the door with a loud thump. He really needed to fix the latch. Steve watched from the couch where he had The X-Files reruns playing, taking a break from his Halloween-related chores. Steve still had to finish cleaning the house, put up the decorations, and make the food for the party they were throwing in two days’ time, all while working mornings at Family Video; the back office work that came with owning a business. He did most of it from home, but he had to go in sometimes, if only to remind the teenagers he hired that they can’t make out in the workplace.

“Hey babe.” Billy’s voice was gruff, filled with exhaustion. Steve smiled at him, eyes watching Billy toe off his boots and pull his jacket off, hanging it on the rack near the door. “How’d the day go?” Keys and wallet dropped on the hall table, Billy made his way over to the kitchen.

“As to be expected.” Binx was purring softly in his lap, Steve’s hand idly stroking sleek, black fur. “Riley got her math test back, aced it, of course.” Billy snorted while he washed the grease from his hands.

“She better have. We studied for weeks for that damn test.” Steve turned the volume down on the television and picked up the cat laying in his lap, gently placing him aside on the cushions. He padded through the dining room and into the kitchen, moving for the fridge to grab a beer. He took a long pull and sighed on the exhale while setting another down on the counter next to Billy.

“We had spaghetti for dinner because it’s Friday.” Riley always wanted pasta on Fridays. Billy dried his hands on a dish towel before grabbing his beer. Steve noted his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. “And I got her costume finished.” The last words came out triumphantly.

Billy nodded his head. “Right on. I’m excited to see it.” His gray t-shirt was oil-stained and dirty. The rugged look made Steve want to bounce up and down a little. He took another drink from his bottle.

“Mm, and Maddie’s sleeping over.” Billy looked at Steve, a smirk on his face. His feet moved him toward Steve until his face was close enough to touch.

“Ah, I see.” He set his beer down on the island, hands coming to run up and down Steve’s arms. “So, we won’t be seeing much of her tonight, then?” His eyes were dark.

It had been weeks since they had enough time alone to get their hands on each other, and Steve was so hungry. The smallest things were turning him on about Billy, to a point where he couldn’t watch him lick an ice cream cone without excusing himself. It was complete mania, and the thought of having him alone made Steve’s breathing cut short.

“I guess so.” His voice was low, eyes glancing over to the clock on the stove. Nine-thirty. He had two and a half hours before the girls had to be asleep. If they quietly excused themselves, maybe, just maybe, they could…

“Dad!” Their bodies pulled apart instantly, Riley’s voice filling their heads and clearing the thoughts they were both falling into.

“Hey, baby!” Billy stepped around Steve, arms opening for Riley to plunge into. He wrapped them around her in a bear-hug, bending down to meet her small frame. “How’s my girl?”

“Good! I got an A on my test!” He beamed at her, all teeth and pride.

“I heard! Great job, man!” He high-fived her. The moment made Steve’s heart tear in just a few places. Billy’s eyes were fixed on their daughter, chocolate brown hair falling down her back, pale skin, enormous brown eyes that always seemed to sparkle, purple striped pajamas and pink slippers.

“Hi Uncle Billy!” Maddie stood next to Riley, arms opened for a hug.

“Hey, kid, how you doin’?” He wrapped her in a hug as well, although, not as tight and protective. Those hugs were only for Riley.

“Great! I lost my last baby tooth yesterday!” She smiled as big as she could, showing a gap on the bottom row of her teeth. Billy leaned back, his face feigning something like disbelief.

“Nice! Did you put it under your pillow?” Her jaw dropped, eyes going wide.

“I FORGOT!” Riley was appalled as well, grabbing Madison’s hand.

“C’mon, you can put it under mine! The tooth fairy comes to my house too. Let’s go!” And they were running toward her room, Riley turning back to them for only a second. “Goodnight Dad! Goodnight Daddy! Love you!” Billy smiled after her.

“Love you too!” He echoed. Steve walked toward the hallway.

“Remember, you have to be asleep for the tooth fairy to come!” Steve called toward her door. When he saw it shut, he shrugged. “Well, Nancy’s going to owe me five bucks tomorrow.”

Midnight finally came, and Steve untangled himself from where he laid next to Billy on the couch. Steve pressed a kiss to the back of his hand and looked up into his eyes.

“I’m going to go check on the girls.” He stood and watched as Billy stretched out, shirt coming up to expose his stomach, a thin trail of hair leading down to his waistband. Steve could feel his mouth water before he tore himself away, making for the white door with the big green R painted on it. He pushed into the room and chuckled silently to himself when he saw the girls, arms everywhere and hair splayed over the pillows, Binx snoozing softly next to Riley’s head. He reached under Madison’s pillow, slipping the tooth out and sliding a five-dollar bill in its place. He snuck out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough to allow Binx out if needed, and headed to the kitchen to put the tooth in a plastic bag.

While he was sneaking the baggie into his backpack sitting on the dining room table, he felt arms wrap around his middle. Billy’s voice was air rushing past his ear, making goosebumps rise on the back of his neck and a fire light in his belly.

“The girls asleep?” Steve smirked and turned his body toward Billy, lips coming to rest against his jawline.

“Like the dead.” Billy hummed in appreciation of the soft kisses Steve was leaving near his windpipe, hands reaching down to grab his ass, lifting him up, onto the wooden table. His face bent down, mouth finding Steve’s, hot and desperate. Steve’s arms were reaching the blonde hair, now falling loose over his shoulders. Billy’s hands were making work at the hem of Steve’s shirt, lifting it up over his head.

A hand came down to Billy’s chest, firmly stopping him from pulling at the waistband of Steve’s sweats.

“Let’s not do this here.” Billy nodded, panting. His fingers trailed down Steve’s chest, nails dragging against hot, needy skin.

“I need a shower.” Steve’s eyes were falling closed, the feeling of Billy’s hands making him crumble slowly. “Want to wash my hair?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

October 30, 1993 - Hawkins, IN

“Daddy, do you know where my Pacers sweater is?” Steve was standing at the stove, eggs sizzling in the pan, coffee brewing in the pot next to him. He was still only kind of awake, but Riley was frantically digging through the laundry basket on the table, bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

“I’m not sure, Riles. Did you check your closet?” He said around a yawn.

“And my drawers. It’s not here!”

“Maybe you left it in your Dad’s car?” She snapped and pointed at Steve.

“I did!” And she was running for the door. Always on the go, that one.

Steve heard the heavy footfall in the hallway that signaled Billy was awake. He mixed the cup of coffee quickly and held it out to his side, not even glancing when Billy slipped it out of his hand.

“Morning, sunshine.” Billy grunted to Steve in response, drinking the coffee before it was cool enough, not caring all the same. “How many eggs you want?”

“Three.” Steve looked at him then, waking a little more, only to admire him. Billy had no shirt on, sweats hanging low around his waist. His curls were everywhere, eyes barely open.

Riley strode toward them then, navy blue hoodie in hand, reaching for Billy.

“Here’s your keys dad.” She dropped them in his hand. Billy raised an eyebrow at Steve, who shrugged in response. “I’ll see you guys later!” Billy put a hand out in front of her.

“Where’s the fire, girl?” She wore a frustrated grimace.

“Nancy is here to pick up me and Maddie, I got to go!” She stood on her tiptoes and Billy bent his head down for her to place a small kiss on his cheek, then jogging over to Steve to do the same. “Bye, Daddy.”

When the front door shut, Billy looked to Steve.

“Where is our daughter going at nine in the morning on a Saturday?” Steve chuckled, plating the eggs.

“They’re going to El and Mike’s to help set up for the shower.” Billy scoffed as he moved over to the table.

“Who has a baby shower the day before Halloween?” He began devouring his eggs once Steve placed them in front of him. Steve paced himself slower, savoring the hot coffee in his hands.

“If they wait any longer they may not be able to have one before she pops.” Billy rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his coffee.

“Are we expected to attend?” His voice sounded of disdain. As domesticated as Billy was, baby showers weren’t really his forte.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” The blonde leaned against the kitchen counter, eyebrows wiggling at Steve.

“I’ve got you alone all day?” Steve laughed, walking over to the coffee pot to get another mug full.

“Jesus, didn’t you get enough of me last night?” Billy pressed his bare chest to Steve’s back, moving hair from his face, startling him.

“Never enough of you, pretty boy.”

Steve was feeling groggy, his day finally over, legs heavy as lead when he walked through the front door. He dropped his keys next to Billy’s, eyes scanning the living room for anyone. All he found was Binx, sitting on the back of the couch, pink tongue licking his paw.

“Hey buddy.” Steve reached over and picked up the cat, looking down into his yellow eyes. “Where is everyone?”

The house was dark, still as stone. The Halloween decorations him and Billy set up earlier in the day loomed, giving it an eerie atmosphere. Steve brushed it off and headed for the hallway, Binx in his arms. As he approached his bedroom, he heard the faint sounds of the television playing.

When he walked in, he could have dropped to his knees, smile spreading across his face. Riley and Billy laid on the bed, curled up together, sleeping soundly with small snores escaping. Billy’s arms were locked firmly around the small girl who had her hands tangled in his shirt, gripping it tightly. The blankets were haphazardly thrown around them, making a warm nest of quilt and pillows. The end of The Addams Family was playing on the television, credits starting to roll.

Steve heard a small meow from his hands, and he deposited Binx on the foot of the bed. He curled up, kneading the sheet gently with his claws by Billy’s feet.

After a few minutes to change, brush his teeth, and rinse the very long day off of his face, Steve crawled into bed next to them. He threw an arm over Riley, eliciting a louder snore out of Billy, feeling his breath on his own face. He tucked his daughter’s head under his chin, and shut his eyes.

Finding sleep wasn’t always easy for Steve, so he spent a lot of nights laying in bed searching for it, tossing and turning in the process.

But not tonight. Tonight, Steve faded into his dreams quickly to the smell of bubblegum shampoo and cherry Coke.

October 31, 1993 - Hawkins, IN

The house was buzzing with excitement, kids running around, people mingling in various rooms. Steve was looking for the extra plastic cups he bought from Melvald’s yesterday and where the fuck did he put them? The irritation was swelling, the people around him making his anxiety kick up. He huffed out a breath.

“You okay?” He turned to see Robin, prom dress on, red paint covering most of her body. He nodded his head and went back to his task, opening cabinets and drawers.

“Yeah, I just,” He slammed another cupboard, scratching his head under his sunglasses in frustration. “I can’t find the goddamn cups!” Robin took a step toward him, hand falling on his shoulder.

“Hey, take a breath.” He obeyed, finally taking a moment to appreciate her costume. He raised a brow.

“Carrie?” She smiled, putting her arms out and spinning slowly for full-effect.

“You like?” He nodded his head, snorting a laugh. “And who are you?” He looked down at his costume, which was easy to put together, given he dressed nearly the same way in high school.

“Max Dennison from Hocus Pocus.” She nodded in realization.

“And Riley is Dani?” He pointed at her.

“Bingo. Made the costume myself”

“Don’t they sell that costume at the store?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but Riley said it was all wrong.”

She smiled and looked to the living room where Billy was standing, drink in hand while talking to Joyce, pieces of fake, rotting flesh on his gray painted face, dark, mussed up wig on his head. She raised an eyebrow.

“And Billy is…” She trailed off.

“Billy the Zombie.” Steve said matter-of-factly. She chuckled and looked back at him.

“Love it.” Her eyes glanced to Gina, her girlfriend of three years now, fondness in her eyes. “You know, we did pretty good, Harrington. After everything that happened at Starcourt, I really wasn’t sure, but,” She looked back at him. “I’m proud of us.” He beamed, reaching an arm around her shoulders.

“Me too, Robs.”

“Riley! Riley! Riley!” Everyone in the house was chanting, Nancy avidly staring at her wristwatch.

“Ten more seconds!”

“C’mon Riles! You got this!” Billy was cheering from the side of the bucket where Riley’s head was submerged, pulling apples out with her teeth and hoisting them into the bowl next to it. Steve counted eight so far, and for only having one minute, he was thoroughly impressed.

“Time!” Nancy called out and Riley’s head popped up, one last apple in her mouth, and the house roared in excitement. Steve grabbed her by the shoulders.

“You did it! You beat Hopper!” Jim was standing behind him, towel around his neck and fake disappointment on his face.

“She must have cheated.” Billy clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

“Don’t be a sore loser, Dad. It’s not easy, beating an eight year old at bobbing for apples.”

Steve laughed and helped Riley dry her face. Her grin was 1000 watts of sugar, and her hair was dripping onto her dress.

“Daddy, did I do a good job?” He rubbed her hair between the soft towel.

“You were great, baby. I’m so proud!” She lunged at him, arms wrapping his neck in a grip that would strangle him if she wasn’t so small. Her voice was quiet in his ear.

“Thank you so much, Daddy. This is the best Halloween ever.” He squeezed her, shutting his eyes and feeling the lump forming in his throat. He pulled her back and looked at her, face bright and eyes lit with everything he never knew he needed in his life.

“Thank you, Riles. For everything.”

#harringrove #prompt #fic request #fic prompts #steveharrington #billyhargrove #the fluffiest of fluff #strangerthings

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platypanthewriter · 4 years

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Tag game: Author Meme

Tagged by @awickedplacethisis

Author name: Peterqpan on Ao3, Platypan or Platypanthewriter here on Tumblr. Peterqpan was taken, so I had to dredge up a name from some RP group eons ago that invited me and then fizzled? I think?

Fandoms I write for: All my stories (except Strangest) started as gifts. I’ll write nearly anything I’m familiar with. I like trying my hand at distinctive voices or highly specific AUs!

Where I post: Ao3 first, then Tumblr a few days later.

Most popular one-shot: Blind as a Bat, a silly Superbat story that came from trying to explain a theme of another story, Strangest, in terms my Superbat loving friend would appreciate

Favorite story I wrote: Ohhh, probably Strangest? It’s a very personal story.

Story I was nervous to post: My toe-dip back into writing fic, a late and unsolicited gift for an author I’m friends with, Steve Rogers is confounded by Christmas cookies (and Loki has a cat) When they liked it, it gave me confidence to offer stories as gifts to my other friends.

How do I choose titles? With great trepidation. I’ve managed to get them a little shorter--for a while they all sounded like episodes of Friends, or chapter titles for Winnie-the-Pooh--but really it’s just me writing along trying to think of any idioms that would fit, and hoping something occurs before I have to hit “post” on something titled “That dumb dragon story” ...ahaha

Do you outline? Exhaustively. I have no memory at all, so if an image or exchange occurs to me and I don’t jot it down, I’m sunk. That said, my outlines tend to leave a lot of leeway and have bullet points like

Billy is hungover as hell

Drunk Billy is worried about Steve, did he eat?

Nancy's warming up to Billy REAL fast just because Steve looks less DEAD

Billy rescues Erica somehow--friend’s cat--Eleven explains sexuality talk with Hopper, to Steve’s horror

so it’s not like it’s all that clear, really...I can’t hold a whole story in my head, though, I admire people who can!

Complete: Oh dear. Seven fics, I guess? Seven out of eleven ain’t all bad. Another incomplete I’ll start posting soon, but I’m hoping to finish it before I start posting, to give myself time to crank another chapter of Strangest out, and finish the Naruto and Hobbit fics I owe my long-suffering BFF.

In progress: The two aforementioned need finishing and are planned. Strangest and In Which No One's Imagination Obeys Posted Speed Limits are meandering towards a vaguely plotted conclusion in no particular hurry. The Keg-King of Elfland’s Sword, which is Harringrove, will hopefully start posting next week, and I’ll post a chapter a week until I run out, at which point we’ll be back to my usual *shrug??* schedule. Chapters of Strangest take a long time, usually over a month.

Do you take prompts? I took prompts for the Harringrove for Australia fundraiser. Maybe very short prompts? Like a paragraph long? I could do that. XD I have too much on my plate to start taking longer prompts, though, my friends with stories on hiatus will feel unloved!

Upcoming project I’m most excited about: I’m kind of excited about my Keg-King of Elfland story, if I can get the darned thing written.

Tagging: @waterhobbit mwahaha @susiecarter @tbehartoo @ihni @brokenpitchpipe *flings baton willy-nilly at innocent onlookers*

#writing meme #platypan #platypan fic

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superlepato · 6 years

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Another Harringrove Au. Bit of A/B/O and serial killer stuff.

So here I’m again, and I hope this will the last of this Au because I need to write other plot bunnies and I need to wrap this first before starting other stuff.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

• Billy didn’t return to school even after the expulsion was over, it didn’t seem right also he didn’t think he would be able to concentrate in class while Steve was out there God knows where.

He didn’t want to entertain the possibility but it has been fourth months and with each day the idea grew stronger. There was a chance of not finding him and other bigger chance of not seeing him alive.

• Benny the owner of the garage was a great boss even before the disappearance of Steve, now? the guy deserves an award for all the shit that he put him trough when he snapped to the clients that saw him with pity, almost telling him “my condolences”, all the time he times he got late ‘cause he falls asleep or was with Hopper following a clue. That man was the only reason why he still has his job.

• Steve is heavily pregnant and dreads the birth of his child, he doesn’t want his child in the hands of the maniac beta Dr. if escaping before was hard now in his state was beyond impossible, he was tired all the time, out of breath and constantly wanting to pee. He couldn’t imagine himself running, hell he has to double check his footing while climbing the stairs since his balance was off and couldn’t see his feet.

He sees in 011 what kind of future his child could have if that happens, 011 could be the person most close to what the beta want to accomplish, it took some time but after bonding, she trusts in him enough to show his abilities. He thinks that Brenner doesn’t know the whole extension of 011 abilities, and maybe she purposely wanted that.

maybe that's the reason why she helps him to find help.

• Usually, her loyalty to his Papa overpowered any aversion she might felt, except this time. She had never interacted with one of the other subjects/victims the same way she did with Steve, she can tell now that this isn’t how somebody should live and that what his Papa does is bad.

Since she is the only one that has some sort of freedom in that house, she is the one that is going to search for help.

• They waited until it was dark, he told her that she needed to go where they first met and tell the first person she found to call the police, and if for some reason it did go wrong, she deserved a life too so it was okay if she didn’t look back.

• It was dark and everything looked different she wasn’t able to reach the center but she literally ran into five people on bicycles.

• It is almost midnight when Billy receives the phone call from Chief Hopper, that he needs to go immediately to the Wheelers household, that apparently they might have found a person that knows where Steve is.

There is this girl setting in the middle of the living room with all of them surrounding her, according to everybody, she knew where Steve was, in fact, she was living with him for fourth months since it was his father the motherfucker who kidnap him. He was livid he didn’t go for the kid because he needs her to find Steve and because he was in danger as if being kidnapped wasn’t dangerous enough.

• Hopper, the kid and him went to where the kids found her wandering, they had to walk the rest of it since it was more easy for her to locate the house. They were walking for hours and Billy was going to lose his shit if they didn’t find that fucking house in the next five minutes, God must be hearing him. Finally after being silent all those months, because they did find the house. He went on a rampage after that.

• At 5:00 am Steve was in the hospital, in a private room. Hopper has to hold him up and threatened him with a trank if he didn’t leave the doctors and nurses check Steve.

It was like being in a dream, he still couldn’t believe that Steve was here with him, it was exhausting and exhilarating at the same time. They were alone so he could take his sweet time watching and caress him as if his life depended on it.

• Steve was pale, like really pale, his hair was a mess, marks on the wrists and ankles, bags under his eyes and more thin, the only part of him that didn’t look diminishing was his belly, God it was so big, it looked ready to pop out. He didn’t know when he started to cry, maybe he has been crying the whole time.

• The news break in the whole nation, the only surviving victim being a young pregnant male omega and his mate that killed The Frankestain, magazines, and newspaper were selling the story like a real life fucking Love Story.

The Harringtons were there three days later, after being the lasts to find out the news of their own son and seeing how probably would be seen their absence. They wanted to take Steve to home, but the Harringtons household, and over his dead body he was going to let that happened.

In so much simpler terms he threatened them with telling everything to the media, how they kicked their own pregnant son to the streets and how little they care about his absence since they believe that he escaped with other alpha.

• In the end, it was more easy to bribe him than the whole town to cover their bad parenting. They paid for the hospital fees and a whole bunch of baby stuff (the baby was just a one month to come to this world and they didn’t have a crib). He wasn’t above to guilt trip them until the day they died, for all he cares they own them.

• Billy didn’t leave Steve side, he couldn’t. This whole experience took their sense of security, Steve looked over his shoulder all the time and for a time he couldn’t have someone at his back, feeling that he has someone at his back still makes him nervous but can handle it better now. Billy had to be always close to Steve and everyone has to move carefully around them, sudden movements towards Steve made Billy snap. Eventually, they started to work how to be apart, because they both need to gain a sense of normality again. Going to work, return to school, all that stuff.

• The first day they returned to their house, they were received by the kids, the Wheelers, Mrs. Henderson, Joyce Byers, hell Nancy and Jhonatan were there, even Susan in an abstract way. (Max delivered some soup in her name).

Mrs. Henderson came every day to the house and made sure that Steve ate, he really needed to put some weight.

• Charlie was born in August. He was the most beautiful baby he has ever seen, anyone could fight him for that.

It was obvious from a young age that Charlie was...special. Steve beat himself for that, Billy had to convince him many times that it was not his fault, and that Charlie had nothing wrong, Besides they now could say rightfully that their son was more special than the other kids.

• Jane Hopper became Charlie confident and his teacher with everything related to his powers.

In his 7th birthday, Jane gifts him the book, Matilda. When the movie came out they were in the premier.

• After his experience Billy decided to become a police officer, he was determined to imprison all the sick fucks out there. For his part, Steve finds out that he wanted to be a teacher and help kids like Jane. She was always going to be his first student and his favorite, of course.

This is the end I hope that you like it (the devoted 20 people that read my posts) I admit that I have more in mind, especially with Charlie, but God I really didn’t want to have a part 5 so that, I could think about it if you really really want to know.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #ABO / Serial Killer #my writing

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thebumblebeetumbletree · 6 years

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Harringrove: Grocery Store AU Cont.

"Yeah Billy was an asshole, but he was nice to Steve and he’d stepped in when one of their customers got a little too angry."

A short story behind this quote. I figured since everyone seemed to love this story so much that I'd do a continuation of it. Sort of.

---

Steve was so tired. That morning his parents finally decided to make an appearance after being AWOL for two months. He had been awakened by his dad barging into his room, yelling something about responsibility. The sun hadn't even started to rise and his shift didn't start until four. He was working with Billy.

Steve was not excited about that. Billy was an asshole, who was so full of himself he might as well have been a balloon filled with helium.

So, Steve filled the rest of the day with spurts of arguments between him and his dad while his mother watched from the sidelines. It was like a tennis match that had no end in sight, at least until he had to go to work. Steve ran from the house like it was on fire.

Billy was already there when Steve walked into the backroom. He sat at one of the little circular tables, his feet propped up on the surface and his chair leaning back at a precarious angle.

"What happened to you?" Steve gestured at the split lip and purple-yellow bruise that lined Billy's temple.

Billy sat forward, knocking his feet down in the same motion, "why? You worried about little old me princess?" Steve flushed at the pet name and tried to cover it with a glare. Neither of them were really buying it. Steve was emotionally exhausted and Billy was aching from his fight with Neil.

"Nothing. Forget it asshole." Steve turned back to the employee clock in sheet. He quickly wrote down the time and turned around to head out of the room.

Or he would have if Billy didn't stand in his way. He didn't squeak as he bounced off of his broad chest, no matter what Billy would later say. At Steve's clear discomfort, Billy smirked and winked at him before sauntering from the breakroom. Taking a deep breath, Steve followed after the other boy.

---

It had been two hours since Steve's shift started, leaving him and Billy to check out the few customers that showed up. It was almost seven at night and Steve was falling asleep behind his register while Billy stood by a shelf of cookies, reorganizing the packs. If Steve didn't know better, he'd actually believe that Billy was doing just that, but since he did know better...

It was very clear his true focus was on Steve and not the pack of oreos currently being groped. "You keep fondling those cookies and I might have to call the cops for public indecency." Steve snorted as Billy fumbled with the oreos before shoving them on the shelf haphazardly.

The bell over the automatic doors gave a small beep, alerting Steve that there was another late-night costumer. He turned away before Billy could say anything, focusing all his attention on their guest. Who was very very drunk.

Steve stiffened and saw Billy do the same as well. He watched as Tommy H. staggered his way towards the liquor aisle. It was quiet, leaving an awkward silence filled with an unidentifiable tension.

Steve released a breath he didn't realize he was holding as Tommy reappeared with a pack of beer. He stumbled into a magazine stand before quickly righting himself, flashing Steve a sleazy smile.

"Hey Stevie," he slurred, slamming the liquor on to the conveyer. Steve gave him an unimpressed look and stared him down as Tommy started shuffling through his pockets. When he searched through all his jeans had to offer and came up empty, Tommy peered through bloodshot eyes, "mind looking the other way Stevie?"

"No. You're drunk Tommy." Steve turned away from the other teen, absentmindedly straightening the pack of gum at his register. "And don't call me Stevie," he added on as an after thought.

There came a disgusted sound from behind Steve, "god you're such a fucking pussy Stevie-boy. No wonder your girl left you." Steve stiffened at Tommy's words, feeling embarrassment more than shame at Billy witnessing this. As he was deciding whether to say something back, but Billy beat him to it.

"Shut the fuck up Tommy. You're drunk and high as a fucking kite." Steve could see Billy making his way over to them, "why don't you leave before I have to make you."

Tommy's eyes lit up for some reason, the look in his eyes reminding Steve of his dad when he could smell blood in the air. "Oh, so that's why she dumped you," Tommy breathed, his stupid face expressing mock surprise. "Your Billy fucking Hargroves bitch. Huh, no shit."

He laughed, a full belly laugh that left Steve's stomach curdling like spoiled milk. "You fucking fags!" Steve's whole body went cold, remembering all the times Billy had asked him out. Billy and Tommy were friends or whatever Billy considered friends. Did he tell him? Was Billy just pulling his leg?

During the time it took Tommy to start laughing, Billy had moved behind him. Steve hadn't so much as blinked, his heart going a mile a minute. "Alright. I think it's time you leave." Steve distantly noticed how calm Billy still was. Why wasn't he angry? He should be livid.

Billy gripped Tommy's shoulder, only to have it brushed off. "Don't fucking touch me you queer." The inebriated teen snarled. Billy seemed to finally have enough of Tommy's shit and grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar.

As he dragged the drunk teen towards the doors, Tommy started flailing, accidentally catching Steve in the cheek and knocking over the gum he had been fixing. Billy swore and shoved Tommy into the plastic seats lining the wall.

"Fuck it. I'm calling Hopper. We can't have his drunk ass on the streets," Billy sighed, wiping the side of his mouth and quickly going to do just that.

Steve was left standing behind the register, cupping his aching cheek and wishing Tommy a slow and agonising death. He flinched when something cold was pressed against his cheek.

"Sorry doll," Billy whispered, gently tilting Steve's face towards the light. Steve, realizing it was frozen peas, placed his hand over Billy's to take hold of the bag, expecting the other boy to move his hand. He didn't.

Billy helped him up onto the register, standing inbetween his legs. All the while pressing the peas to Steve's cheek. "You shoulda hit him." Steve grumbled.

"Sorry princess." He seemed to contemplate something for a moment, "if I do...you? Me? Dinner?"

---

This is the first part to the Harringrove Grocery Store AU: https://thebumblebeetumbletree.tumblr.com/post/170773465052/harringrove-au-so-my-parents-have-been-married

#harringrove #protective billy #grocery store au #gayness #gay #threats of violence #child abuse hinted at #child neglect hinted at #my fics

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