Chapter Text
Part 1
After Billy had failed to bring Maxine home, his father had let into him. Slapping wasn’t even there. It had been punching and kicking. He had been somewhat careful to avoid Billy’s face, laying most of his hits on his back and chest, but now Billy looked like absolute shit. Felt like absolute shit. Breathing hurt, so on the court the following school day, he was slower and less aggressive. He was on top of Harrington, as always, but he was careful to avoid getting too chummy with him. He didn’t want to be elbowed or knocked over. With how much his body throbbed, he doubted that wouldn’t happen eventually.
It didn’t, and Billy was thankful for it. He kept on the court for just a bit after the others left and made his way into the locker room. He was still a mess of nerves and anger, fucking pissed that what had happened at the Byers house caused this. Fuck Harrington and fuck those goddamn nerds.
As soon as he got into the locker room, Billy ripped off his shirt. He felt confined in it, but he hadn’t wanted the guys to see the large splotches of purple and blue all over his chest and back. He couldn’t brush those off as sex escapades.
“Fuck,” Billy hissed and shucked the rest of his clothing off. At least the showers should be empty at this point. Without picking up his clothes, because, why, he stalked to the shower room.
Steve had been quiet as he stood outside the showers, still, as soon as he heard the blonde stomping into the locker room. He couldn’t help but think that even his walk was menacing and aggressive. Ever since their encounter at the Byers’ residence, Steve had been doing his best to avoid Billy, and more importantly avoid another beating.
Part of him wanted to believe it was a minor scuffle, that only his pride was bruised, but his face felt different about it.
Billy had been aggressive on the court, shooting Steve some glances he couldn’t place very well, before nearly knocking him on his ass a few times. He had made damn sure to plant his feet this time, he wasn’t sure his face could take another beating without getting his parents deeply involved, especially on school property.
Steve did his best to carefully open his locker, trying not to glance in the direction of the showers. Maybe if he just was quiet this would all be over soon, and luckily if it wasn’t nobody was there to see him take another beating.
Unfortunately for Steve, Billy was really good at hearing noise. It was probably because he had to sit and listen for hints that his dad was home. He glanced back, frozen, and felt the need to grab his shirt. Instead, he took a towel and threw it around his waist. Fuck it. If someone sees the bruises, they’ll just assume he got into a fight with someone. Maybe he won. Maybe he didn’t. He didn’t.
Billy walked forward until he caught sight of Harrington. His anger suddenly boiled and he sneered. “The fuck are you still doing here, Harrington? Looking for another throw?” He cocked his arm out so he could lean against the locker.
Compared to Harrington, Billy was bulky. He outweighed him, and in his opinion, out-fought him. The little shits had to resort to drugs to stop him, so what did Harrington have now? Absolutely fucking nothing.
Steve found himself sighing and tensing his muscles, preparing for a fight but absolutely not wishing for one. He just fucking knew it, fucking knew it. He steeled himself for a retort that was likely going to get his nose broken for real when he turned and saw Billy.
He had bruises all over his chest, stomach, and shoulders--Steve was sure there were some on his back as well. They were clearly fresh, still marred a deep purple and blue and not even close to the sickly yellow and green just starting to form on Steve’s face.
Part of him pitied whoever had gotten in a fight with Billy Hargrove because if Billy looked like that, then what the hell did the other guy look like?
His retort died on the tip of his tongue and Billy clearly caught him staring before he quickly mumbled, turning his gaze down and still holding onto a sweater in his hand. “Nothing man, I’m just finishing up.”
Billy cocked an eyebrow and settled his hips against the locker. He watched him, scrutinizing the way Steve looked at him before smirking. “Like what you see, Harrington?” He mused, leaning forward so that their faces were too close for comfort. “Pretty boy have a hard on for something less than gal-like?” His words were scathing, and for a moment, he felt like his father. That was a kick in the gut. He scowled and pulled back, already disgusted with himself.
“From what I understand, losing the title meant losing the girl. Is that how it went? Are you just a fag, Harrington?” Billy scoffed and ran his fingers through his curly hair. The last few jabs had less venom in them, as if he was actually tired of taunting Harrington.
Steve frowned deeply at the comment, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t heard the word “fag” before, but the language still just offended some deep and quiet part of him. Nancy would likely claim it was due to his WASP sensibilities, but aside from clearly understanding somebody was different, he didn’t think those sorts of names were necessary. He carefully avoided those words, even during playful banter amongst the team members--and typically felt a sort of acidic taste in his mouth when he didn’t say anything. Lately he just avoided those discussions entirely and hadn’t heard the word for a moment, and for some reason, in this moment, he couldn’t stop himself from retorting.
“You really shouldn’t say things like that. It’s not…” What he wanted to say was nice, but who the fuck was he talking to? “It’s not cool, man.”
He leveled his gaze on Billy, and perhaps it was due this bruises that he forgot for one moment to very quickly defend that despite what he said, he was no way a “fag” himself.
Billy blinked. Really, he was surprised. He had expected a fight, a jab, a throwback, but this? It was like talking to someone’s parent. “Wow, sensitive, then?” He itched for a cigarette and glanced toward the showers. He needed one, but Harrington was there and it was so difficult to not harass the teen. When he glanced back, he caught Steve’s eyes and stared at him for a moment. Two moments A moment too long. Fuck. Whatever.
“So, let’s boil this down. You can’t fight. You don’t throw. Your body is…” He shrugged and smirked, as if that made it obvious. “And you can’t keep a whore around. Is that why you lost your title? Cause I’m curious, truly, I am. Explain this to me, since no one is here to interrupt you.”
Steve hadn’t been thinking, truly, when he shoved Billy as hard as he could against the locker room bench. He felt a small moment of satisfaction that he had caught him off guard, even if the big bastard hadn’t even come close to falling down.
“Don’t call her that!” Steve hissed, feeling his temper start to rise. He could ignore the jabs, but some things had to be off limits. Nancy and him may not have been dating anymore and he may have been resigned himself into a role he didn’t want, but he was well aware that Nancy hadn’t intended anything to happen. Sometimes in life things just happened. And he wasn’t about to listen to anybody talk shit about her, especially not Billy.
Billy stumbled back, almost tripping over the bench. He managed to catch himself and laughed. Ah, there he was. He looked up, his eyes flashing with joy as he pushed himself to his feet again. “She breaks up with you and you still defend her? What is this? You still in love, Harrington? Got the feels for her? How does Byers feel about that? He know?” He laughed again, but it turned dangerous without warning. Billy was up against Steve in seconds, shoving his back into the lockers hard enough to bruise. He sneered and made sure they were close enough that Steve could feel his breath against his cheek.
“You get all fighty for other people, but you can’t defend yourself? Why is that, pretty boy?” Billy was actually, genuinely curious. He was always out for himself (who was ever out for him, anyway?). Hell, if someone went after Tommy or his gal, he wouldn’t give two shits. That was their problem, so why does Harrington care so much about other people?
When Steve’s back hit the locker, he winced, briefly closing his eyes and his first thought was, ‘Fuck, not my face again, please.’ The last thing he wanted was to explain another beating to any of the kids, especially Dustin. His breath left him for a moment and then he held it, feeling Billy’s breath fan over his face, still faintly smelling of nicotine and some sort of mint that surprised Steve.
He knew that he could defend himself, with how bruised the guy was another good hit would really fucking hurt, but he had started this and kept his hands to his side even as he clenched his fists. His heart was racing as he opened his eyes, looking at Billy’s searching gaze. It made him extremely uncomfortable for so many reasons he couldn’t fathom.
“Because asshole, some of us have people that actually care about us!” And what the fuck was wrong with him, he regretted it as soon as he said, not just because it was cruel but also because fuck he really couldn’t take another beating.
Billy had been close enough that he could breathe in Steve’s scent--his deodorant, cologne, whatever the fuck he wore. It was enough to make his stomach clench. The fact that his dad thought bringing him here would “cure” him almost made him laugh. Boys were boys. Dicks were dicks, and he liked them. He glanced over Steve’s face and then froze at the comment.
The fresh bruises pulsed and Neil’s words were suddenly in his head again. He ground his teeth and shoved himself off of Steve. “Yeah, sure. She cares so much that she dumped you for another, creepier dude.” His words felt empty, though, sounded empty, and he hated himself for it. Fuck this. He shot Steve a nasty look, his hands clenched, before he started to make his way toward the shower. Honestly, he would have rather gotten punched than told something like that. It was almost like Neil had spoken out of Harrington’s mouth, and wasn’t that a fucking mood killer.
Steve didn’t even realize he’d still been holding his breath until Billy released him, pulled away and for a moment Steve felt a lack of warmth he hadn’t even realized was there for a second. He watched Billy warily as he turned, bruises all over his back. The sight of them turned his stomach and he wondered again about the other guy Billy had been fighting, he certainly hadn’t caused them. He was sure his punch at the Byers’ house had been the equivalent of swatting a fly for Billy.
For some reason though he lingered for a moment, he told himself he was preparing for the inevitable beating his mouth had bought him, but when Billy was a comfortable distance away, he found himself lingering there. And then he felt like shit.
Billy had just managed to bait him into yet another thing he was going to regret, eerily reminiscent of Nancy’s slur at the movie theatre. He knew it was an immediate mistake and now it was done and anxiety churned in his stomach. He stood there, fidgeting, as he watched Billy.
Billy yanked the towel away from his waist and threw it to the side. He looked over his shoulder and grinned menacingly at Harrington. “You’re staring. Not really helping the ‘I’m not a fag’ argument there.” He laughed and stepped into the showers. Once he did, he let his expression fall and he snarled to himself. Man, fuck Harrington. Of course the rich kid had people who cared. He ran his fingers through his hair, shoving it out of his eyes, and then he flicked the shower on. He let it stay wherever it landed--ice cold. He could manage that.
When Billy slid under the water, he grit his teeth. The bruises sang to life and reminded him that he would definitely need to get Maxine home and perhaps board up the window in her room so this shit wouldn’t happen again. He clenched his jaw again and then released a harsh breath.
Steve made no comment at the new “fag” remark, it had landed him in hot water already. He quickly looked away when Billy yanked off his towel, showering with the guy was one thing but he was clearly just standing there, and that unspoken rule regarding looking in the showers had been long hammered into Steve’s head. And yet, he did make a small glance, he tried (he really did) to simply look at Billy’s head, waiting for another remark. But his gaze inevitably drifted down his broad shoulders, sculpted and bruised, down to his ass, and down thick, muscular thighs.
It wasn’t fair really. Billy was built like a goddamn statute straight out of an art history book. Deep down Steve knew that he wasn’t slumpy, but there was a far cry between what he was and what Billy was. He kept his gaze trained to the floor, but stood his ground, his sweater still on the floor.
Billy could hear Steve’s shuffling. He hated how in tune he was with his surroundings, but with his dad’s fits, he had to be. He turned his head to the side and opened his eyes. Droplets of water were scathing over his face, dripping from his eyelashes, and he didn’t even bother blinking as he caught Harrington’s eyes. Instead of flicking him off or snarling, he licked his lips--slow and easy like. As he did, he let his eyes roam over Harrington. He did it to make him uncomfortable, to make him stop looking, but he had to admit, Harrington was easy to look at.
Of course, Harrington was a pussy, so what was he going to do? Run? Sputter? Glare? He chuckled and tipped his head back further, letting the water slide over his throat and chest. Even bruised and aching, he knew he looked good, and wasn’t that just fucking annoying for everyone else.
Steve knew he had made a horrible mistake when he glanced back up and for a brief moment, caught Billy’s gaze. That intense stare bored into him and Steve felt this warmth in his stomach, slowly knotting and unfurling before he deeply blushed and looked down again. Shit.
He knew he had been caught looking and he tried to console himself with the fact that clearly Billy enjoyed that and lots of people looked at him, it didn’t mean anything then or anything about himself. Steven still felt his face flushed when he muttered, just loud enough for Billy to hear.
“I shouldn’t have said that man, I’m sorry.” All he had to do was make it right and then he was free to go, no anxiety or moment of regret holding him back.
Billy froze again. Damn. Steve had a terrible habit of getting under his skin, saying just the right fucking things to make him tick and to piss him off. He turned slowly, not caring that he felt as if the water was now needles on his skin. “Don’t fucking apologize, Harrington,” his voice was low, a threat, his hands clenching at his sides. “You fucking meant it when you said it. So don’t fucking apologize to me. That shit’s weak.”
Then, of course, Billy gestured to himself and grinned that insane grin. “Unless, of course, you’re better with your mouth than you are your words. ‘Cause I’m totally up for that kind of apology.” He laughed because everything in his life was a fucking joke.
Steve hated in that moment he shot his gaze back up, the comment was just so sudden and on the nose in the moment. He felt his face get even more red and could not recall the last time he had been so embarrassed. He knew his eyes were wide as he struggled to regain his composure, quickly reaching down and scooping up his discarded sweater, even though he made no move to put it on.
“D-don’t be like that, it was just not a cool thing to say and I’m sorry, okay?” All Billy had to do was accept it, nod, something, and he could get the fuck out of here, out of whatever this was. “Okay?” He repeated, pulling at a few little fuzzballs from the sweater,
Billy felt like punching Harrington again. Several times. The guy was too good for anyone, truly. He knew when he was wrong, he apologized, and he expected people to just let it go? He chuckled to himself and leaned back against the tiles. He had to scoot back out of the water to do so, but watching the other teen without water in his eyes was worth it. “Cool thing? Since when have you known about what was cool?” He itched for another cigarette again and decided to turn off the faucet. A rinse was enough, considering he’d be smelling of smoke soon, anyway.
“Tell you what, Harrington,” Billy walked out of the showers. He brushed passed Steve, purposely hitting their shoulders together, and grabbed his towel. “Why don’t you tell me how you were dethroned, and I’ll forgive that nasty comment of yours.” He grinned. Even if what Steve had said was true, Billy wasn’t going to let him know that (besides, didn’t everyone know it, anyway?). He scrubbed the towel through his hair and hissed a bit when it tugged on his earring. Fuck. He eased the towel away and then went about carefully drying off his chest and waist.
Fuck these bruises and fuck Neil’s steel toed boots.
The inquiry startles Steve out of his stupor as Billy saunters towards him, at least his mind told him that was what he had done. He had made a point to stay rooted in his spot, plant your feet his mind whispered, with his gaze turned down to the tiled floor.
But the question makes him frown and look up, look over at Billy’s face. “What?” He knows he looks confused and that was because he was, it was a strange request to forgive his trespass--not necessarily too much but just not one he was sure he could easily answer.
“I don’t….I don’t know, you just showed up.” And what? He hadn’t noticed? Everybody noticed Billy Hargrove. He hadn’t cared? Had been too busy dating Nancy? Had been too busy with the Upside-down? What was a suitable answer? Even he didn’t know for a moment, hadn’t really examined it before his mind supplied: you were trying to not have a failed relationship, and you failed at that.
“I don’t know, it just...happened.”
“I just showed up?” Billy looked over and felt like his eyebrow was going to simply leap off his forehead. This guy. He snorted and rubbed down his legs and his ass. He ignored his back. Turning would hurt too much, and he wasn’t about to strain the damn bruises. He tugged on his too-tight pants without underwear (because, of course he did), and then tugged on a loose t-shirt. That was a first, at least. He simply didn’t want the bruises to be touched. It had been a while since his dad had gone all out on him.
“I didn’t make you lose the girl.” Billy turned, finally, and leaned his shoulder against the locker so he could really look at Harrington. “I beat your face in, yeah, but you were toppling before I came along, pretty boy.” He glanced over to the side of the room. “Mind bringing this outside? And not to beat your face in. I need a smoke.” He pushed off the locker and grabbed his bag. He was being civil. For now. Exhaustion was part of it, if he was honest with himself. He knew, though, that if he skipped school, he’d just get beaten again. He snorted again at the thought and exited the locker room to the outside instead of into the hallway.
Steve found himself strangely following behind Hargrove, just by a step as he mulled over his words. He knew it was true, he and Nancy had been done since the first time they split up, long before even his first encounter with the Upside-Down. They may have been together, cuddling and kissing and having sex, but neither one of them had really been there, not really anyway. Nancy had probably been in love with Jonathan already then, even if she didn’t know it. And Steve--where had he been? Wrapped up in his own shit until it was too late to wrap himself up in Nancy’s.
He didn’t really have a good answer for Billy, and slipped on his sweater as they walked. He didn’t see anybody else at the school and was unsure how long he had been in the locker room with Billy. He’s silent until they’re outside, and when Billy lights up and looks at him expectantly, he’s not sure what to say. Part of him knew he could just leave, they were outside after all, but he stayed there, fidgeting.
“I don’t think I have an answer for you, man.” He muttered, quietly and unsure of himself. “I was just….not into it.”
Billy ignored the way his hands shook when he lit the cigarette. His body was retaliating. It wanted rest, and as much as he needed it, he wasn’t going to take it. He’d push until he’d pass out (as long as he wasn’t behind the wheel of his baby). He sucked in, enjoying the bite of nicotine and the denseness that filled his lungs. He let it sit, closing his eyes, and then exhaled through his nose. As he did, he opened his eyes and looked over at Harrington.
“No answers? Sucks. Thought you’d be more interesting, being King Steve and all,” Billy drawled. He turned and then looked over Steve’s face. Honestly, he hadn’t… he didn’t remember a lot of what he did to Steve. After his pops slapped him and pushed him around, he was just wanting a fight, and Steve happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He glanced over the bruises, the cuts along his lip, and then away. “Your face should get you cred, though.” Billy shrugged. “Still walkin’ around, at least.” He finally pulled the cigarette away from his lips. Maybe he should just skip. His dad wouldn’t find out. He could just go driving.
For some reason, Steve laughed at that. Cred? He was sure he was well past any cred right now, going around with kids as their glorified babysitter. If anything, he just looked terrible and off-putting. He wasn’t even sure if this would have gotten him any credit when he was “King Steve” either, and if anything he felt like it said that his fighting prowess was shit.
“I don’t think it’s gonna work out that way for me.” He shook his head, a small smile still on his lips as he cleared his throat. What would cred even get him? In bed with a girl? A pat on the back from Tommy? Who gives a shit.
“And you don’t need to call me that, it’s not….necessary, your Majesty.” He quipped, hopefully trying to point out to Billy the ridiculousness of the nickname.
Billy’s stomach tightened as Steve laughed. It was a different reaction than he was used to. People didn’t generally… laugh around him, not like that. He glanced over at Steve, surprised, and then tore his gaze away before he could be caught. He bit the filter of his cigarette again and breathed through his nose. Then, of course, he was hit with another surprise. The emphasis Steve put on the stupid name made heat rise from deep inside his gut, to his chest, up his neck, and into his cheeks. He coughed around his cigarette, pulled it out of his mouth, and continued to cough for a few moments. He was trying to breathe through his nose, lungs burning and eyes watering.
Jesus. Christ. He threw his head back and laughed. His earring tickled his neck, thrown back with the movement, and he raised his foot to rest it against the school building. It at least gave him leverage.
“Fuck, Harrington. Full of surprises, aren’t you?” Billy winced and realized that, perhaps, laughing like that hadn’t been the best idea. The bruising was lit up again, like fire, and he hunched his shoulders to ease the stretch.
For a moment he had joined Billy in laughing and when Billy started coughing, Steve nearly reached out to touch his shoulder, jokingly ask if he was okay because he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Billy cough before despite the surprising amount of cigarettes he was sure he had seen him smoke. Steve stopped himself though, the gesture was too intimate in this precarious situation. And frankly, he wasn’t sure Billy still wasn’t going to beat his face in again.
Part of him wanted to comment on what Billy said as well, full of surprises--the reality was that he spoke too quickly far too often. Nancy didn’t always appreciate it, thought that his sarcasm and somewhat teasing humor could border on cruel. He had tried to be more thoughtful for her, but then again he tried to be a lot of things for her.
His smile faded a moment when he saw Billy wince, but he still kept it light, his tone just a little teasing as he tried to keep concern out of his voice. “I think you may have enough cred for the both of us...are you sure you’re okay?
Billy saw the way Harrington reached for him, and part of him wanted it. There was also a part of him that wanted to punch the guy in the face for trying to care. He held his cigarette in one hand now while breathing in and out shakily to calm his lungs. Instead of punching Harrington, he leaned back against the building and cleared his throat. Damn. The pain reignited that anger he had for the other teen because, well, he wouldn’t be this way if Max had just gotten in his damned car. He rubbed his eyes and then dropped his head back against the bricks. The thud didn’t bother him, even as pain raced through his neck.
“Remember, Harrington,” Billy warned, that maliciousness back in his voice, “No one cares. Don’t go making yourself a liar now.” He looked away from him too soon after the threat, and he knew it. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with his shoe. What was said earlier was true, after all. Billy had himself, and that was all. Fuck, that was all he needed (right?). He suddenly missed California. The beach. The waves. The sun on his body. Man, fuck this place.
“Is Max hangin’ out with your group of nerds tonight?” Billy still hadn’t looked at Steve yet, too concentrated on not showing any sort of weakness (how he had not realized that what he was doing was a weakness was beyond him).
Steve opened his mouth for a moment to speak, to once again apologize for what he had said. It was cruel and a mistake--clearly one that had cut Billy a little too closely and he would harp on it. He really hadn’t been thinking when he said it, just angry about what Billy had called Nancy. He just felt that there had been no other way to tell Billy that he had no desire to fight him, not unless it was protect somebody he cared about. And no matter what, he would always care about Nancy.
Steve sighed, this had been arguably the most pleasant few minutes he ever had in Hargrove’s company and after the Upside-Down, he was just tired of fighting. He was fighting enough when he tried to sleep every night, why couldn’t the rest of his life just be normal? What the fuck did he have to do?
Steve eyed Billy and after a moment, he stepped to the side and leaned back against the building right beside him. He eyed Billy for a moment, Steve was taller-just barely-why hadn’t he noticed that before? Likely because Billy’s build always implied that he was larger than life.
“They’re not my nerds, but yeah, they’re all gonna play games, stuff their faces, the works.” Steve was invited to play, and while he appreciated the gesture, he didn’t understand the mechanics of the game for the life of him.
Billy felt his body tense as Steve stood beside him. It was the closest they had been without trying to tear out each other’s throats (he was usually the instigator). He shook his pack and pulled another cigarette out of it. He flicked his lighter several times before it ignited, and he sucked in a lungful of smoke as it finally lit the end of his cig.
“You enjoy babysitting ‘em?” Billy tried to make the excuse that he was being nice because no one else was around, but in reality, he was tired of being alone. In Cali, he had friends. Fuck, he had been surrounded. He had a boyfriend. He had the beach. It was a lot calmer there. It hurt to think that who he was had caused all of this.
“And, Harrington, when I come to pick up Max, she better be there, and I better not get shit out of you.” A second run in with his pops may just land him in the hospital. Hell, he had been worried that his sternum had cracked. He shifted against the wall of the school and tilted his hand, cigarette between his fingers, to Steve. He hadn’t looked at Steve yet because his usual threats lacked his viciousness, and he didn’t want to see what Steve thought about it. “Wanna pull?”
“They’re fine, just kids doing like, nerdy shit.” Steve mumbled, because of course then the question that began was: why the fuck was he hanging out with these kids? Steve couldn’t even begin to explain that, not even just because of the Upside-Down and everything they went through. Even he was unsure why he was still hanging out with kids.
He still felt strangely protective over them, wanted to be close to them just in case none of this was over. But he didn’t want to think about that, think about the dark thoughts of how close they were to being ripped apart. He frowned, lost in thought, meaning to reply to Billy when he had grabbed the cigarette but not yet taken it from Billy. His thumb pressed over Billy’s warm hand as he just stood there for a moment.
When he realized what he was doing, Steve jerked a little and took it wordlessly. (How long was he touching Billy?) The refusal had been there but he took a deep drag to cover up his hesitancy.
He immediately regretted it as he started coughing hard, only having barely smoked before when he was pleasantly buzzed with tiny puffs that didn’t really reach his lungs.
Billy could hear the note of affection in Steve’s voice, even if he did just say they were just kids. Something had happened to make Steve care about those shits, and Billy wondered why or how. Hell, it was hard enough for him to just look at Max (reasons, damn it). Steve had a whole fucking crew. He frowned and then realized that Steve’s thumb was over his hand still. It had been a couple of seconds more than he expected, so he looked over to figure out what the hell the guy was up to. The warmth disappeared instantly, then, and he clenched his jaw. He would not get into that type of trouble here. He didn’t need it. He couldn’t have it.
Of course, the teen was ripped out of his own musings when Steve started to hack up a lung. He laughed, amused, and turned himself so he was more or less facing Steve, which put them within a foot of each other. “The fuck kind of asshole doesn’t know how to smoke?” He asked, his lips falling into a grin as he watched Steve struggle with the nicotine. “Honestly, Harrington,” Billy reached out and took the cigarette from him. After a solid inhale, he thought about what he used to do with his boys. They’d exchange smoke while kissing, and he wondered how Steve would handle that. The idea made him blanch and he turned back to stare at the fields behind the school.
Billy couldn’t have that luxury. “So, you play that shit with them? Like, the whole…” He waved his hand, not knowing exactly what it was called, and then shrugged. “Or y’think you’re up for some drinking? I sure as shit am. Your face is wrecked. I’m, well,” Billy chuckled, “Always lookin’ for fun. What d’you say, Harrington? I drop off little Maxine and we hit the drinks.” Besides, this could be an easy way to open Steve up. Or it could end up in a whole fucking mess, but Billy was used to that--so, whatever.
“I know how-how to fuckin’ sm-smoke asshole—” Steve coughed out, tears in his eyes as he shook his head, trying to clear the fit. He tried to catch his breath and released it shakily, his pride slightly wounded in front of Billy as he swiped at an errant tear that had managed to run down his cheek.
Steve cleared his throat, he leaned heavily against the building with his pelvis jutting out forward. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons, I don’t like get all the rules or whatever but it’s fine, I mean it’s not like the worst thing—wait did you just invite me out?”
Steve blinked in surprise, it wasn’t exactly a great idea. He hadn’t drank since that party with Nancy, not really anyway. There had been a couple hard nights where he had drank to excess just to be able to sleep, but that was when he was alone and purposely trying to just lose control to something to help him sleep.
Then again, if Billy was making an effort to be friendly, maybe he should take him up on it. He was sure his face would thank him in the long run.
Billy narrowed his eyes as Steve wiped away tears. Honestly, his cigarettes weren’t even that bad. He was just convinced that Steve had no balls. He snorted and took another drag of his cigarette. “Dungeons and Dragons will never get them laid,” he mused to himself and then shrugged. The movement made him flinch. Fuck. He kept forgetting about the bruising, and how the fuck did that keep happening? The beating had been memorable.
“I didn’t invite you out,” Billy worked his jaw and looked over to Steve. “Don’t make it sound weird, pretty boy. I’m askin’ if you’d like to get trashed. Your face is already there. May as well let your brain follow.”
Of course, Billy wasn’t a stranger to alcohol. The whole school knew that by now. He wouldn’t admit that it was a way to forget and to maybe hit on girls so that he could keep this stupid shit up. It was easier for him to act sleazy while drunk as fuck, after all.
And whose fucking business was it if he decided to get drunk with Harrington, anyway? Everyone would just assume that the brawl had settled things and that they were less ‘going to kill each other.’ Which was debatable. Harrington had a punchable face.
Of course that was exactly what Steve wanted, all of this behind them. And if the only way to make that happen was to get drunk with Hargrove, well that wouldn’t be the most depressing thing that happened to him that week.
“They’re little bastards, they don’t need to get laid.” He couldn’t imagine Dustin summoning the courage to cop a feel, he was still trying to get the kid his first kiss. The kid deserved something nice, a nice girl who realized he was a special kid, a special kid who deserved something more than weird lizards and dead cats.
He pushed that thought away and smoothly grabbed Billy’s cigarette with an arrogant smirk. “And I accept.” He looked at Billy cockily, square in the eye as he challenged him. Steve took a long, deep drag--before he coughed really hard again.
He shoved the cigarette in Billy’s direction, shaking his head as he coughed, “Not a-not fuckin’ word--”
Billy rolled his eyes about the comment on the kids not getting laid. Everyone, at some point, needed to get laid. He smirked at that and looked over. Then, of course, Harrington did something stupid and took his cigarette. He watched, bemused, as Steve tried again and ended up coughing--again. He laughed, then, loud and without malice.
“Shit, man. Gonna have to teach you how to do that right,” Billy took the cigarette back and felt his stomach lurch. Like, teaching how to show Steve to breathe in smoke from his own mouth. That would be a start. He ignored the flush in his body and tried to remember the beating from the night before, but it was fucking distracting, and the more he thought about it, the more he fucking wanted to do it.
“So, you got anyone at your place, princess? ‘Cause my pops doesn’t like me havin’ people around,” Billy shrugged and grit his teeth. Right. Fuck. He looked back at Harrington and took a slow drag of his cigarette, which was basically gone now. Should just throw it on the concrete.
Steve gave Billy a long look when he heard him laugh. A very distracting thought of, ‘He sounds nice like that,’ flitted across his mind but he brushed it aside. It was just nice to hear Billy being something other than an asshole--that was until the princess comment.
Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m not a princess, your majesty, and no, I don’t have anybody over at my place. My parents are out of town on some business trip thing.” It was where they usually were, and Steve didn’t even really keep track anymore. They hadn’t even known he had his ass beat by Billy yet, and he was sure by the time they returned, the bruises would be gone and they would already be preparing for another trip.
Steve would be by himself, cooking small meals when he was home and keeping the few rooms he actually wandered around in clean. It was just something he was used to by now, and while he would throw parties not that long ago, now all he wanted was to be away from most people aside from the kids.
Billy cocked his head back and looked at the sky. He finally dropped the cigarette and stomped it out with his shoe. He hadn’t looked back at Steve yet, but he was thinking about him, and wasn’t that rich? He licked his lips and turned his body to Steve. “So, I grab the monster, drop her off, and hit your place.” His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned toward Steve. “And you may wanna be careful with that, princess. I may just have you calling me that in public.”
The teen laughed again, this time with a bit more intention, and slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders. He gripped him for a moment, allowing the silence to stay before looking Steve in the eye. “I’ll bring the beer, Harrington. You’re the entertainment.” He grinned, and it was just as wolfish as it had been before he had beaten Harrington’s face in.
“I wouldn’t call you that without another beating.” Steve winced a little at his words, hoping that Billy didn’t take it as another challenge. Even if he had went at Billy full strength, at best he would be able to hold his own--not win, that was for sure. The guy was a beast.
He jerked a little as Billy held him, surprised by the touch, the warmth, and possibly even the affectionate, teasing tone from the blonde. It was a welcome change though and he couldn’t help but bump him back, ever so slightly, from his shoulder down to his hip. Part of him wanted to bite back that Billy surely meant that he would bring or have the entertainment, but after one look at Billy’s face, he was sure Billy found him quite entertaining. If Billy was still thinking about that King Steve bullshit, Steve was sure that Billy studied him--even just a little to see where everything had gone so wrong for Steve.
‘Well good fucking luck, buddy, when you figure it out let me know,’ Steve thought as he smirked a little. “My dad has some harder shit, can you handle that Hargrove?”
Warmth spread throughout Billy’s body as Steve pushed him back, even if it was only a little bit. Everyone was so fucking careful around Billy. No one tested him, pushed the limits, or tried to get on his level. The idea that, after a beating, Steve was still meeting him there put a thrill through him and made him appreciate Steve. He looked over at the taller boy and grinned.
“That sounds better than beer, Harrington, but you'd better keep up with me,” it was as if Billy was going to do something terrible to him if he got blackout drunk, but by the grin on Billy's face, he may have just been teasing. Even Billy wasn't sure at this point. Steve was… an anomaly. Billy could switch back and forth between punching him and doing other, just as terrible things to him.
“Eight, yeah?” Billy squeezed his hand on Steve's shoulder, still amused with how scrawny he was in comparison, and looked back at the school. They were practically skipping. Poor Harrington--getting all caught up in Billy's antics. He laughed, which probably looked really fucking weird.
The thought of getting wasted with Billy Hargrove would put a frown on Nancy’s face. Steve could imagine it, pinched and her lips pressed in a line as she judged him. But for some reason in that moment, literally nothing else appealed more to Steve. Didn’t he deserve just one night where he could forget? Forget his shit with her, with Billy, with creepy ass government shit in Hawkins, and be a normal fucked up kid? Shit, he practically owed it to himself.
Steve laughed, feeling a little giddy already at the prospect, and soon they were in the parking lot. Steve spun out under Billy’s shoulder and faced him, walking backwards as he grinned. They were the last two cars in the lot.
“Worried about me, Hargrove? You should be the one preparing yourself because I’m going to drink you under the table.” He bumped into one of their cars, the Camaro he realized, as he looked at Hargrove, still smiling.
Billy felt like a damned predator. He stalked Steve as the teen moved away and began to walk backwards. He almost felt...like his normal, old self, and that was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. He grinned, all teeth, as he watched Steve bump into his Camaro. It was good that they had just finished practice and stuck around. No one was there to see their exchange.
The larger teen used his body and arms to cage Steve against the Camaro. If anyone saw, they'd assume they were arguing, and Billy was okay with that. He leaned in close, so that his lips almost touched Steve's ear, “Should I be, princess? From what I've heard, you hold alcohol pretty well. It'll be nice to see that instead of whatever the fuck I've been dealing with.” Billy moved so that he could make eye contact with Steve, and fuck him, the guy was still hot as fuck, even with bruises and cuts.
Actually, that made it even hotter to Billy. He had made those marks. He licked his lips and then laughed.
Steve couldn’t help the shudder that ran through his body and that small fire, spreading warmly through his stomach. He was concerned he was feeling this way, just a little, but it was the challenge he liked, Billy doing his best to push his buttons. And for once, Steve found himself really enjoying being pushed by Billy Hargrove.
Steve laughed with Billy, shit when was the last time he got really drunk? He remembered he usually had a good time at parties, laughing and dancing, but the last time he had gotten drunk he recalled a lot of groaning afterwards and Nancy pressing water and medicine into his hands with a shake of her head. Everybody saw different things, he supposed.
“I don’t know where you heard that from, but I guess you’re going to have to see, huh Hargrove?” He challenged and it took him a moment to realize that Billy had essentially held him against the car. Just part of the game, throw him off.
Steve allowed himself to press up flush against Billy, just for a moment, and when Billy’s arms were a little slack he moved away. Again he walked backwards to his own car, not taking his eyes off of Hargrove. “Better not like weird shit on your pizza. I’m ordering pepperoni and not taking orders!”
Billy's heart thumped hard enough to hurt when Steve pressed so closely to him. He fought the urge to yank himself back, allowing, if just for a moment, the scent and presence of Steve to fill him. He let it sink into his skin, into his bones, and Billy realized he may be in trouble.
Fuck it.
As Steve slipped away, Billy turned and rest his hip against the door of his Camaro. His blue eyes trained on Steve and held there as his brain raced and his inner demons clawed. No. He was going to enjoy this. Fuck everyone else.
“I'm sure that's not the only type of meat you eat, Harrington!” Billy called back, his grin slipping into a smile as he walked around and dropped into the driver's seat of his muscle car.
Steve shook his head but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing, it was an easy banter that he was used to, back when he was King Steve, back when he was a normal teenager. This is what he wanted.
“You’re so fucking stupid, man. Get my address from your sister, and be nice!” He was still smiling when he opened his door, gave Billy one last smile and nod of his head before slipping into the leather seats. He chuckled to himself, he was being fucking stupid too, he supposed. But goddamnit, he was going to have fun tonight with somebody his age.
He drove away to his house, speeding just a little because he could in front of Billy and hurried home to prepare. ‘Prepare yourself Hargrove, because you’re going down.’