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Billy’s only been in Hawkins for 3 days and Neil is already breathing down his neck to get a summer job to ‘pay his way’ and to ‘stop being so fucking useless’. The usual Neil flavoured bullshit.
It’s not like Billy hasn’t tried, the problem is that in a small town like Hawkins, nobody wants to hire someone who looks the way he does. Billy kinda gets it even, the mullet and the earring and his whole general demeanour don’t exactly scream excellent customer service, but Billy has always been a damn hard worker because time spent working is time spent away from Neil – Billy’s obvious preference.
It's only midday and he’s been rejected at the Family Video, the local mechanic, the library and the record store. Billy had to close his eyes and take a deep breath when the prick in a pressed polo at the library physically stood in front of their cheery little ‘Help Wanted!’ sign and turned him away.
His Hail Mary was the public pool but apparently even being a certified lifeguard wasn’t good enough for the stupid hicks in this stupid town.
Billy could feel his tears of frustration building and he blinked hard to stop them from falling, he’s always been quick to tears, one of the many things Neil hates about him. It’s pathetic and he should be used to this shit, even back home Billy sometimes got judgemental sneers from assholes who couldn’t mind their own damn business.
Billy was so busy lamenting his general jobless existence that he nearly jumped a foot in the air when he noticed a stranger had appeared by his side.
“You happen to be the kid whose been looking for a job around town?” The stranger says, eyeing Billy up and down while he waits for a response.
Billy returned his gaze, he took in the man’s plaid shirt and an honest to god cowboy hat, under his moustache the man’s face was suspiciously tanned in the way most people Billy had dealt with so far in Hawkins were not. The guy looked like he came straight from one of those cowboy movies Neil used to love; just like the cowboys little Billy used to look at too closely and shit, now is not the time to think his thoughts.
“Yes! Uh…yes, Billy Hargrove sir. I’ll take anything you’ve got. Anything.”
Billy realised he was coming across as pretty eager, but he is truly desperate at this point; Neil told him not to bother coming home tonight if he didn’t bag a job and even though it’s summer, the nights are still too fuckin’ cold in this town to sleep comfortably in his car.
The man hummed as he looked Billy over before extending a hand.
“Richard Harrington.” Richard drawled as he met Billy’s hand in a callused, heavy grip that had Billy fighting the urge to wince. “I got a farm, just outside of town and I’m always looking for more help. It ain’t easy work mind you son; it’s pretty physical and not many people are up for the challenge.”
“A farm sir?” Billy has never been on a farm in his life; he has no idea what kind of work that entails. Jesus, Billy can’t even imagine a version of himself that would be working on a farm but fuck, he really can’t pass this up.
“I can do physical sh- stuff sir, I’m strong! I lift every day, like 130lbs, and I used to swim and surf all the time back home.”
“Surfer huh?” Richard asks. “Noticed the accent, West Coast?”
“California sir”
“Well then California, you’re hired. Take the main road outta Hawkins and follow the signs, you can’t miss the place. I’ll see you at six.”
Billy breathed a sigh of pure relief; he had a job. He wasn’t going to get slapped over dinner for failing again thank fuck, but wait did… surely Harrington didn’t say –
“SIX?!” Billy shouted in alarm to the retreating form of his new boss who only chuckled in response and climbed into his truck.
*
Billy was onto his third cigarette since he began the drive towards the Harrington Farm, it’s still dark out due to the early hour and he tries to remember the last time he’d seen anything but rolling fields out of his window.
He honestly hadn’t thought Hawkins could get any hicker but here’s the proof.
Billy huffs trying to shake off the shitty mood he’s in. Neil had laughed in his face over dinner last night when he found out the nature of Billy’s job, he’d spat his usual venom over Susan’s eternally dry chicken about how Billy isn’t man enough, how he’s weak and that the second his boss realises Billy is a pansy ass faggot he’d be crawling back to Neil for help.
So, fuck him, Billy thinks grinding his teeth against the memory; unlike Neil, Billy is used to shit being hard work all the fuckin’ time so purely to spite Neil, he is damn well determined to be the best worker that Harrington’s ever had.
Mr Harrington is waiting for him at the gate when Billy arrives and pulls it open, waving him past the ornate sign proudly stating Harrington Farm Est 1946. Billy drives up the winding road and is struck by the feel of the place as he drives further in, the sun is just starting to rise and is casting an almost golden hue to the seemingly endless rows of corn that sway gently in the early morning breeze.
It feels peaceful out here, kind of reminds Billy of early mornings at the beach, though the scenery is a stark difference.
Billy pulls his car up outside an assortment of buildings, large and sturdy looking barns in shades of reds and browns, a silo here and there and a stately brick building backing onto a forested area which he assumes is Harrington’s house. The house is imposing in its size, but it still looks homely somehow with an old rocking chair, a porch swing and a few carefully arranged potted plants out on the porch, idly Billy wonders what it would be like to live somewhere like this.
“So, this is the old farm,” Mr Harrington starts, his hands on his hips. “Lotta things we do here but don’t worry, I’ma ease you in real nice , won’t throw you in the fields just yet. I’ll send my son over in a bit so you can get acquainted.”
“Thank you again for the opportunity sir, I promise to not let you down.”
“Ah hell, stop it with all that sir crap now son, call me Rich,” Rich says with a smile. “Everyone else does and ‘sides sir makes me feel too much like my old man.”
Billy nods his agreement; Neil would have his head if he heard him address his boss by his first name but there’s something oddly comforting about Rich that makes him feel safe.
Rich talks him through his first task of the day which is unloading the truck, it seems simple enough to Billy until he gets a peek at what’s inside – bags of feed, big, heavy looking bags and there’s way more than just a handful.
Rich chuckles at whatever expression must be all over Billy’s face and slaps his shoulder. “You told me you were strong son, now let’s get going.” Rich teases. “The little shits start going crazy when they hear the truck, they’ll be waiting on ya.”
*
Billy’s left to his own devices after that but the instructions were clear, haul the bags into the barn and feed the animals without losing a finger or two. By the time he’s down to the last bag the sun had been beating down on him for hours and Billy’s white tank was almost translucent with sweat. Thankfully he’d had the idea to swipe a hair tie from Max’s room last night, so Billy had at least been able to keep his hair off his neck and up into a messy bun.
He’s hauling the last heavy bag of feed off the truck when Billy feels eyes on him, worried that it’s Rich watching to try and disprove Billy’s earlier claims of strength he heaves the bag onto one shoulder before turning around and…oh.
Standing in front of the doorway of the barn is a boy, Billy’s age maybe, floppy brown hair peeking out from under an old trucker cap, his jeans are loose and scuffed around the knees and tucked into an equally scuffed up pair of cowboy boots. He’s holding a shovel in one hand and just staring at Billy like he’s some kind of new life form or something.
Billy’s shoulder starts to ache slightly under the heavy load so he tries to edge into the doorway as best he can but there simply isn’t enough room for the pair of them.
“Uh hey, look sorry man, I gotta set this thing down before I collapse so if you could maybe just scoot over?”
“Steve Harrington!” Assumingly Steve blurts out, he looks as shocked as Billy is about the sheer volume of his introduction. “Shit sorry, that’s my name, um I’m Steve.”
“Billy Hargrove, nice to meet you and all but can you please move out of my way.”
Steve jumps like he’s been shocked and quickly scoots over so Billy can finally dump the bag with the others. Jesus, if Rich keeps him on this duty, he can surely skip the daily workouts; Billy stretches and groans in relief when something in his back pops, he reaches up to fix the strands of hair that came loose from his bun and almost jumps out of his skin when he hears a loud clatter behind him.
“Sorry! I uh- I dropped the shovel.” Steve apologises, he rubs the back of his neck and looks away and with the way the sun filters through the slatted wood it catches the pink on his cheeks. He’s cute Billy thinks, for a farm boy anyway. “You’re California?”
Billy laughs, “I mean, yeah sure I’m from California. I guess you’re Rich’s son?”
“Pops hasn’t hired someone new in a while.” Steve nods, seeming to have gotten over whatever weirdness was affecting him earlier, “’specially not somebody like you. I uh don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s good. Really good!”
Billy blinks. “Okay?”
“Um, so my Pops told me to come find you so you could help me with some weeding.” Steve says, gesturing with the shovel as he talks. “It’s real easy I promise – oh wait!”
Billy watches feeling all kinds of confused as Steve dashes off mid-sentence and hurries back thrusting a glass of lemonade at him, Billy arches an eyebrow looking over Steve’s flushed face.
“You look really hot!” Billy snorts as he accepts the drink and admires the blush that is now starting to spread down Steve’s neck. “Uh no – I didn’t…” Steve huffs, “I wasn’t being weird, it’s boiling out here man. Just drink the damn lemonade California.”
Billy grins and drinks the damn lemonade, it’s fresh and tart and probably better than any lemonade he’s ever had. “Well then pretty boy, you wanna show me the ropes?”
*
It turns out Rich wasn’t exaggerating; Billy is wiped out by the time Steve is calling breaktime. Farming is serious business, who knew.
Steve showed him how to handle and keep up with the various livestock they have on the farm and then they weeded the crops. After that it was time to dig a ditch for reasons that Steve did explain but sounded like utter nonsense to Billy and then onto digging out and cleaning the barns. Steve went on to teach him how to drive the tractors and combines which Billy really enjoyed and then they helped to unload the hay wagons.
Steve had been patient with him and didn’t treat teaching Billy like it was some kind of chore and they chattered pleasantly enough all morning. Billy found Steve quite charming actually in that small town type of way, even when he laughed himself hoarse when Billy was spooked by a very large cow who was very interested in chewing on his hair.
They ended up downhill some from the farm itself to a large lake hidden in the forest for their break, Steve explained this is where he usually ends up when he gets the chance to get away, that he likes the stillness of the place. Billy gets it, it’s pretty and peaceful and it feels almost special in a way, it’s makes him feel like a loser for thinking it, but he is kind of honoured that Steve would bring him here.
“You bring all your dates down here stud?” Billy teases to try and shake the feeling but he can imagine Steve charming all the small town girls with a handful of daisies he picked and strawberries fresh from his very own farm.
Steve laughs but it’s small and flat. “Just you California. Used to come down here with mom a lot but it’s just me nowadays.”
“I haven’t met your mom; does she work on the farm too?”
“Nah, it’s just me and my Pops.” Steve says, he shrinks into himself a little and a sad tone creeps into his voice, “Ma died a few years back.”
Fuck.
“Ah shit, man I’m sorry. My, um, my moms gone too. It sucks I get it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Billy looks out over the lake and fiddles with the blades of grass in his fingers, shoots a smile at Steve when he gently bumps their shoulders together.
“I think I’m going to like having you around California.”
Hoping his blush isn’t visible – Billy plans to blame sunburn if it is – he bumps Steve back, “I think I might like that too.”
*
After that first day he can’t seem to shake Steve, it’s been two months now and he still insists on trailing Billy around the farm, Steve claims he is mentoring Billy, but he said that once in the earshot of Rich who laughed so loudly that it set the chickens off.
Billy doesn’t mind truth be told, he likes Steve’s company – maybe a little too much.
Steve always makes sure Billy is keeping hydrated throughout the day, and on days when he shows up with no lunch Steve drags him into the kitchen and fixes Billy up something and won’t take no for an answer. Steve who demands Billy comes to sit with him at the lake on his breaks and leans in so close that the bill of his hat bumps into Billy’s forehead. Billy’s a little obsessed with the way Steve drawls certain words with his Midwest accent, the way he rolls California around on his tongue with stars dancing in his dark eyes.
Billy can’t help but be completely charmed, even when Steve is covered in mud and shit and they’ve spent hours tilling the field, squished close and sweating together in a rusty old tractor, he’s still the best part of Billy’s day. And Steve is such a walking cliché in his ratty cowboy boots and Stetsons, and the disgusting smokers chew permanently residing under his ridiculously, plump bottom lip.
So yeah, okay maybe Billy has a slight crush. On a straight boy again. It’s no big deal, it’s manageable. Billy is fine.
It’s fine when Billy starts to spend more time on the farm than anywhere else and when Steve invites him to stay for dinner more nights than not. It’s totally fine when it’s just the three of them in the cosy Harrington kitchen, Rich showing a genuine interest in what Billy has to say like he’s part of the family and not just your average employee.
Billy even starts to stay over if it’s been a particularly long day at work, Rich encourages it even, he’s noticed the man look too long with something almost knowing when Billy shows up a little scuffed up thanks to Neil’s handiwork. On those nights Steve likes to drag him out to smoke on the porch swing before they call it a night, shuffles them as close as they can get until their thighs are pressed tightly together under the cover of darkness and stars.
Recently Steve has taken to lingering in the guest room doorway when he says goodnight with a curious look on his face like he’s trying to figure out how to ask for something.
Only Billy is a little scared to realise that he would give Steve anything he asked for.
*
“Come on California, it’s the 4th of July you have to come!”
“I’m working Steve.” Billy nods his head at the calf he’s brushing, “Shouldn’t you be doing the same thing?”
“You can’t talk and brush Betsy at the same time?”
“Would you like to wrangle with her or are you just going to keep standing there looking pretty?” Steve sticks out his tongue at Billy but surrenders and resumes his own calf pampering.
Steve has been trying to convince Billy to come to this damn fair for weeks and now it’s the day of, he’s really pouting up a storm and tragically Billy hasn’t yet built up an immunity to said pout. Billy gets about 3 minutes of silence before he starts up again.
“Please Billy, Pops has already made enough s’mores for us both; he was so excited that you were coming!” Steve pleads.
“Really? This is your last line of defence, guilt tripping?” Billy sighs, Steve knows fine fuckin’ well the soft spot he has for Rich and is not above using it. “Fine. What even is this thing then?”
Steve whoops in response and actually punches the air like the loser he really is under it all – why Billy has such a thing for this dork he doesn’t know – before beginning his usual excitable rambling.
“Okay, so it’s like a tradition around here, one of the local farms will put it on every year and there’s fireworks and a big bonfire, everybody brings their trucks out and there’s usually stalls and stuff and most of the town comes!” Steve stops to catch his breath and beams in Billy’s direction. “It’s so much fun Billy, I swear I wouldn’t take you to something lame.”
Billy sighs again, exhausted but equally as enamoured with the boy and sets his expectations for the night low. “Fucking hell, fine! What time does this thing start?”
“7pm,” Steve chirps looking far too smug for getting his own way. “Stay for dinner and we can drive over there together, ‘sides it’ll be much more roomy in my truck than in your tiny ass muscle car.”
*
The fair is okay.
Maybe slightly enjoyable when Billy got to squish in close to Steve by the bonfire while Rich divvied out the treats he had packed for them. Kind of like a little family. Billy tries not to let himself think about that part too hard.
They lose Rich at some point after the bonfire, so they putter around a few stalls where Steve grabs them a hot chocolate with whipped cream and all the fixings. Billy hasn’t had hot chocolate since he was a kid, so with sugar lacing his tongue he decides the fair is almost fun.
A voice over the loudspeaker announces the fireworks display will be starting soon and Steve nearly breaks both of their necks to drag Billy tripping and stumbling across the field.
“It’s just fireworks Steve; I’ve seen them before y’know. They’re pretty much all the same.” Billy says.
“Nah.” Steve drawls, he looks jumpy and kind of… nervous. “This will be better, trust me.”
Steve dumps a pile of blankets and pillows into the bed of his truck and drags Billy in by the wrist once he’s arranged them to his liking. Billy clambers further in, brushing off stray bits of dirt and hay as he goes, and plops himself down a healthy distance away from Steve.
This proves to be for nothing as Steve immediately closes the distance and glues himself to Billy’s side, Billy eyes him suspiciously but Steve just grins and makes sure they are suitably swaddled in blankets in time for the show starting.
Billy gets a little lost in watching the fireworks, marvels over how much prettier they look against the backdrop of the clear, starry nights that come with being this far out of a city.
Lost in thought as he was Billy almost jumps out of his skin when he feels an arm creep around his waist under the blankets, Billy stiffens and darts his eyes to the cars surrounding them then shoots a look at Steve who has his own gaze fixed firmly on the sky even as his fingers start to dance across Billy’s ribs over his shirt.
Billy whispers, “S-Steve what are you doing?” When he gets nothing but a shy smile in return, Billy almost swallows his tongue. “You know I’m not some chick right, we can’t do this. Especially not here, what if your dad comes back? What if someone fuckin’ sees us?”
“Just relax California, it’s only you and me here, everyone else is too busy watching the sky,” Steve’s voice is low and soothing, but it does nothing to calm Billy’s anxiety any, his pulse starts to race even more when Steve’s other hand comes up to cup Billy’s cheek, his thumb stroking across Billy’s bottom lip. Steve uses his hold to tilt Billy’s face until they are eye to eye. “But me? Darlin’ I haven’t looked at anything but you since the first time I saw you.”
“Steve,” Billy breathes, shuddering at the feel of Steve’s hot breath against his cheek.
“Can I kiss you sweetheart?” Steve whispers, his lips now close enough to brush Billy’s own. Billy is about to give in, lean in but something moves in his peripheral vision and -
“William.”
Billy whips his head towards the person calling his name, but he knows, he knows without even having to look, he knows that only his dad calls him by his full name and only Neil has the talent to lace Billy’s name with such contempt.
Billy’s heart sinks down to the soles of his feet at the furious expression on his dad’s face and instinctively he tries to pull away from the warm body next to his, but Steve only holds on tighter.
“Dad, I – I’m just.” Billy chokes, his head is spinning trying to figure out some kind of defence but before Billy can think up anything halfway plausible, he’s interrupted by Rich who sidles up to stand next to Neil.
“Is there a problem here Mr Hargrove?” Rich questions. “Looks to me like our boys here ain’t doing nothin’ wrong.”
Neil is seething, that much Billy can tell, but even Neil isn’t stupid enough to mess with the Harringtons. Billy’s learned enough by now to know the Harrington name is worth its weight in gold in this town and has done for decades, the name garners respect and that’s Neil’s whole bread and butter.
“Billy has a curfew.” Neil says evenly, his tone at odds with the mask of fury on his face.
“Huh. Billy didn’t mention no curfew.” Rich says.
“Well, that’s Billy for you,” Neil chuckles but it’s sharp, cold, Billy closes his eyes at the sound. He refuses to cry. “Boy never can remember his responsibilities. Isn’t that right Billy?”
“Funny that.” Rich swoops in to save Billy again, “Billy’s been a godsend back on the farm, you got a good hardworking kid. We’re lucky to have ‘um.”
“Funny that.” Neil grits out, his thin patience already reaching its threshold, “Billy, get your ass out of that car and say goodnight to the Harringtons.”
Billy does as he’s told; he fixes his gaze to the ground and mumbles out a goodnight with Neil’s hand clapped to Billy’s shoulder, fingers squeezing tight enough to bruise and leading Billy away from the scene of the crime. They both ignore Steve’s shrill shout that Billy’s car is still at the farm and Billy wonders distantly if he’ll ever actually get to see the farm again.
Fireworks are still lighting up the sky while Billy watches Neil palm off Susan and Max with a few bills from his wallet and gestures back towards where Billy stands; Billy wonders dully what Neil’s telling them, what he’ll tell them tomorrow when Billy’s six feet under.
*
Billy wakes up on his bedroom floor where Neil left him last night, he does his usual self assessment after a night of ‘discipline’, he thinks a rib or two may be cracked and his face feels fucked but honestly, Billy is surprised Neil didn’t go too far and that he actually woke up at all.
Last night Neil had demanded, between kicks to Billy’s ribs, that Billy is not to go back to the farm, that he quits his job, has nothing to do with that family ever again; Billy was too delirious in pain to do anything but agree at the time but… the thing is, he needs his car, he can’t risk Neil driving out there and picking it up first.
Hauling himself up and onto his bed causes Billy a whole new world of pain to grit his teeth against but he makes it, the house seems quiet which is off, but Neil does usually clear them out of the house on days after a beating this bad.
Billy grimaces at his reflection in the mirror perched on his makeshift dresser, his face is fucked, one eye is two shades of black and purple, and he has a new gash to his eyebrow to compliment the split in his lip and the cut to his cheek from Neil’s ring. It’s not ideal but he’s had worse, it’s not like it’s even the first time Neil has caught Billy in the back of a boy’s car.
Billy manages a change of clothes but by the time he’s fixed up his face somewhat his ribs are already screaming their displeasure. How the fuck he’s going to walk all the way out of Hawkins he doesn’t know but at least he can drive back, or maybe he just won’t come back at all.
There’s Max to consider but she has Susan he supposes, Max has barely spoken to Billy all summer anyway, she’s been too excited to have found a little group of nerds to run around with.
And Billy had spent too much time at the farm to really meet anyone else in Hawkins, unless you count the nice lady at Melvald’s who doesn’t try and card him for his smokes.
So now he really has nothing in this town, no friends, no job, a fucked up face and nowhere to run to even if he tried. Shit, he really needs his car.
*
The sun above Hawkins is as unforgiving as ever as Billy makes his way into the more rural part of town towards the farm Billy had started to call home, trying to wipe the sweat from his forehead without aggravating the cut to his brow is getting old real fast and by his calculations Billy still has around thirty minutes to go on foot. He’s honestly considering just flopping down at the side of the road until Neil inevitably drives by to scrape him off the asphalt and lay into him again.
What does it fucking matter anyway now, the Harringtons and his job at the farm were the only good things he had going in this stupid town and now what? Beg for a job from that weird guy that Max always complains about at the arcade and –
“Billy?” As preoccupied as he was Billy failed to notice the familiar pick up pulling up alongside him until Rich’s concerned voice pierces through his maudlin thoughts, Rich’s eyes widen when Billy turns to face him, “Billy. Son, get in the truck.”
“Was real worried about you when you didn’t show this morning,” Rich snaps once Billy is secured in the passenger seat. Billy can feel the tension rolling off the man and isn’t that just perfect he thinks, more dads that are pissed off with him. “Your fuckin’ old man do that to your face?”
Oh. Shit. People aren’t supposed to know about Neil, not ever. Billy stays silent, nobody has ever called it out so blatantly before and he’s not all together sure what he is supposed to do here. Rich isn’t like his buddies back in California, he’s an adult for one and an adult who has power in this town, more than Neil does that’s for sure.
Rich seems to take his silence as the answer it is and keeps up a muttered tirade as they drive closer to the farm, if Billy wasn’t freaking out as much as he was, he’d smile the fifth time he hears Rich spits ‘fuckin’ low life piece of shit’ but as it is he’s struggling to keep his breathing steady.
They pull up and exit the truck just in time to see the front door burst open and Steve trip over himself in his haste to get to them. Billy sees the moment Steve gets a good look at his face; Steve’s eyes narrow and his face draws tight with fury as he marches towards Billy.
Steve pulls him into his arms, one strong arm wrapped around his waist and the other to the back of Billy’s head, encouraging him to rest his face against Steve’s neck. Steve brushes gentle fingers through the knots in the back of Billy’s curls, murmurs soft and low into Billy’s ear, “Jesus Christ, what did he do to you darlin’?” and that is what breaks Billy.
Billy stifles his sobs in Steve’s neck and allows himself to be ushered into the house. He lets Steve lead him over to the couch where he’s pulled rather ungracefully onto Steve’s lap; Billy spares a thought that Rich is right fucking there but it’s taking everything he has right now to just stop crying.
Rich lowers himself to sit on the coffee table in front of them and watches silently as Billy breathes and tries to get a fucking grip. This is probably the most mortifying thing that has ever happened to him Billy thinks miserably, he’s sobbing in front of his boss while his boss’s son all but rocks Billy on his lap like an overgrown baby.
“Billy.” Rich’s voice is firm but not unkind and Billy feels himself relax slightly despite it all, this is home, nobody will hurt him here. He’s safe. “I need you to tell me who hurt you.”
“Why?” Steve interjects hotly. “You know who fuckin’ did it!”
“I need to hear it from Billy,” Rich says. “Who hurt you son?”
“…My dad.” Billy’s voice is barely a whisper, but he’s said it, he’s finally fucking said it out loud.
Rich and Steve simultaneously let out sounds that are surprisingly close to growls, it startles Billy, and he flinches when Rich stands abruptly but Steve just pulls him closer and presses a kiss into his hair.
Rich stalks across the room towards the phone, his posture is stiff, and Billy wants to cry again, Rich could barely look at him now that he knows what a pussy Billy truly is.
There certainly won’t be any more family dinners in the only place in this whole town where Billy felt accepted. He can vaguely feel Steve’s hands clutching his face, he thinks Steve is talking to him, but he sounds a million miles away from Billy.
“Jimmy? Yeah, Rich here.” Rich speaks gruffly to the man on the other side of the line. “Cashing in an old favour, now how quick can you get on over to Cherry Lane?”
Billy doesn’t hear the response but as Rich sets down the phone he smiles for the first time since he picked Billy up.
“What… why are you going to my house?” Billy panics, fuck Neil really is going to kill him this time.
Billy pulls himself up off Steve’s lap and follows Rich across the room, ready to protest or plead, tell him it’s not worth it but his mouth shuts with an audible click when Rich strolls out onto the porch wielding the shotgun the Harringtons usually keep by the door.
Rich grins, “I’m off to have a nice talk with that dirtbag who calls himself your Pops.” Billy gapes at his back as he climbs into his truck only turning back to say, “now Stevie, you take good care of your boy until I get back.”
*
Steve guides Billy up the stairs and into the main bathroom and starts tending to his injuries in a more thorough job than Billy did himself. Billy feels numb and pliant as Steve silently dabs at his face adding Neosporin and band aids as he goes, eventually Steve must deem his face good enough as he starts to pull Billy’s shirt up to get at his ribs. Steve wraps Billy’s ribs and only then does he break the silence that had settled over them.
“Billy, please say something.” Steve says, “’m freaking out a bit here sweetheart, never known you to be quiet this long.”
“Is your dad going to shoot my dad?”
“Nah. Wish he would, but they’ll probably just scare him. Maybe rough him up a bit. Jim is the chief of police so it’s fine, no worries.”
Billy blinks, “I…I don’t think that’s how it works Steve.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” Billy nods, keeps nodding, he can’t seem to stop. “Okay Steve.”
Steve smiles, doesn’t seem bothered by Billy’s bobblehead act and ducks his head to kiss at Billy’s now patched up cheek. Steve draws back and takes Billy in, stares for a second longer before his face crumples.
“Fuck. This is my fault. It’s my damn fault that you’re hurt.” Steve starts, Billy opens his mouth to object but he keeps talking, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.”
“It’s not your fault Steve, what the fuck?” Billy shakes his head firmly, it doesn’t do wonders for his probable concussion, but Steve has to know, “Neil must have been jonesing for it man, I’ve hardly been back there for weeks. I coulda just breathed wrong and we’d still be here, he… he doesn’t need a reason.”
“I’ll kill him. If I see him, I’m gunna kill him darlin’ I swear.”
“It’s fine Steve.”
“It’s not fine Billy.”
Steve closes his eyes and takes a few careful breaths; Billy watches him visibly calm down and lets out a sigh of his own. Billy’s tired, it feels like his emotions have been put through the wringer in the last few hours and he has no idea what is going to happen next, but for now, all he wants to do is rest and Billy tells Steve just that.
Steve gets them set up on the couch, lays himself down while gently encouraging Billy to drape himself on top of him. Billy feels weirdly shy, the position they’re in is intimate but not even exactly in a sexual way, it’s more like comfort that he feels when Steve pulls him close and starts trailing a hand soothingly up and down Billy’s back.
“This okay?” Steve sounds shy too which helps a little, one of his hands ends up stroking though Billy’s curls and he hums approvingly, “because fuck sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for so long but it’s just, you didn’t really get a chance to answer my question last night before we were interrupted.”
“What question?” Billy murmurs his response into Steve’s collarbone, he inhales deeply taking in the scent there, hay and mud and sweat mixing in with fancy cologne and it’s Steve.
Billy lifts his head from its hiding place when he gets no response to his own question and Steve is smiling at him with pure affection in his eyes, he cups Billy’s cheek just like a mirror’s image of last night.
“Can I kiss you?”
Billy nods and Steve doesn’t waste a second before pressing their mouths together. They kiss, it’s soft and heartbreakingly gentle in the way Steve avoids pressing too hard on his split lip and it doesn’t feel rushed or like it has to lead to something more. They just kiss for a while, long and slow presses of lips before Steve pulls away and presses their foreheads together.
“You are so fucking beautiful Billy, y’know that?”
Billy blushes all the way to the tips of his ears. He’s been called hot, sexy and even gorgeous in the past but beautiful? That’s new, and so is the naked awe dancing in Steve’s gaze.
“You don’t have to lay it on that thick Steve, you already got me to kiss you.” Billy tries to joke but his voice comes out shakier than he’d like.
“’m not laying anything on thick baby.” Steve’s eyebrows furrow and Billy rubs his thumb in the small crease there, “first time I saw you, knew that was it for me. Ask my Pops if you don’t believe me.”
“You told your dad?!” Billy asks, his jaw dropping in shock, no wonder Rich has been so nonchalant about the whole thing.
Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Didn’t need to, smug old bastard cornered me when you left that first day. He was all…” Steve pitches his voice to be lower and gruffer in an imitation of his dad, “I knew you’d like that boy Stevie, now don’t you say I never do anything for ya’ son.”
“Oh my god.” Billy cackles, it hurts his face, but he can’t believe this. “He fucking pimped me out?”
Steve laughs and traces Billy’s smile with his fingertips. “Maybe a little, but it brought you here didn’t it?”
*
Two hours pass before he hears the familiar sound of Rich’s truck pull up the drive, it strikes Billy that while he has also memorised the sound of Neil’s car’s arrival, this feels different somehow.
Rich doesn’t bat an eyelash at the way Billy and Steve are wrapped around each other as he reclaims his perch on the coffee table and smiles at them both.
“It’s done.” Rich waves a flippant hand, and Billy’s eyes are drawn to the dried blood in the creases of his knuckles. “Fucker won’t be bothering you anymore.”
Billy hesitates. “How can you be sure though?”
“Oh, trust me son, it’s been made violently clear that someone like him ain’t welcome in Hawkins.” Rich smirks, “ain’t that right Jimmy?”
Billy hadn’t noticed the other man enter the room – fuck knows how he missed him; the chief is built like a brick shithouse.
“Neil,” Jim sneers from where he is looming in the doorway, “has been informed that if he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his pathetic life behind bars, he’ll do his damn best to keep a low profile. Wouldn’t surprise me if the prick runs for the hills first chance he gets.”
Billy blinks, stunned. This can’t be happening. He can’t actually be free; people don’t care about Billy like this, just having Steve and Rich is hard enough to believe but now this random guy is helping him, for no reason other than he was asked to…It’s an overwhelming feeling but he can’t let himself revel in it yet, he needs to ask.
“My sister?”
“Hm.” Jim grunts, “little red got awful loud once she heard you weren’t going to be coming back. Your sister is friendly with my kids; Max and her mom are going to be staying with me and Joyce for a bit until Susan gets her affairs in order.”
“Susan’s leaving him?” Billy’s head is reeling; he doesn’t think he can take any more surprises today. “Wh – what am I going to do?
“You stay here obviously, already pretty set up in the guest room ain'tcha.” Rich smirks, “looks like you won’t be needing it though, ‘m sure Steve’s bed is plenty big enough.”
“POPS!” Steve thankfully sounds just about as mortified as Billy feels.
Billy chances a glance in Jim’s direction but to Billy’s shock, the guy looks a little uncomfortable, sure, but also like he’s trying hard not to laugh at their misfortune.
“Got all your shit in my truck kid, Max packed it up for you, just let me know which bedroom it’s going in.” Jim’s composure breaks and Billy hears him snicker as he turns to head back outside.
Christ, Billy’s pretty sure his face is about to sizzle off and just flop to the floor with how hot it feels. He’s being teased about the boy he likes – by two grown men – like its normal. They aren’t hurting Billy or threatening him, hell Rich is downright encouraging it.
Billy is forbidden from helping with his own damn things because of his ribs, he wants to tell them he’s done a hell of a lot harder things in worse conditions, but he takes the out and he’s thankful for it when his belongings end up in Steve’s bedroom and Billy didn’t have to actually voice that decision out loud.
*
Life is pretty good for Billy after that, the three of them naturally slip into a routine and it’s like Billy has always been there. It helps, he supposes that Billy was basically around all the time before he even officially moved in.
They eat breakfast together at the ass crack of dawn and then get to work, he and Steve still work alongside each other and now that he has the green light, Steve is all over Billy every second of the day. It freaked Billy out a little at first, he wasn’t used to the casual affection that Steve so freely gives him, but now he’s kinda spoiled, grown kinda soft with it.
Billy hasn’t heard from Neil since that day, he was on edge for a few weeks, not wanting to leave the farm and dreading the day he heard his dad’s car approach and not Rich’s. That day never came though, and Billy heard from a gleeful Max that Neil cut and run once the divorce was finalised, and at long last Billy can breathe.
Rich treats Billy just like he always has, like a second son. Billy was still hesitant at first when he and Steve officially started dating. He worried that for all of Rich’s teasing and gentle encouragement that actually seeing it might be a different story, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.
The first time Rich hollered across the house at night for them to keep the noise down when he and Steve were occupied, Steve had to coax Billy through a minor nervous breakdown, but at breakfast all that came was Rich wiggling his eyebrows and asking in a faux sympathetic voice if they were sure they had the energy to work today as they must be so tired.
Steve was right, he is a smug old bastard and Billy adores him.
While he never would have imagined it on those first few days in Hawkins, he hardly misses California at all. He misses the ocean sure, and as Hawkins slowly creeps towards September Billy can tell he’s going to mourn the weather like crazy, but Hawkins for all its faults has the Harringtons and Billy can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than here.
*
“I can’t believe I fell in love with a fuckin’ farm boy,” Billy laughs as Steve peppers kisses across his face, they’re pressed up against the side of the barn where Steve jumped him only 15 minutes into Billy’s duties, “how fucking embarrassing.”
“I can’t believe I fell in love with a fuckin’ city boy,” Steve kisses him again and takes off his hat – one of the cowboy ones that he knows always just do it for Billy – to park it on Billy’s head instead, “but it seems to me California, that maybe you’re a farm boy now too.”
It’s ridiculous, Billy is surrounded by hay and manure, the goats are bleating like crazy and across the way Billy can hear Rich hollering about his combine crapping out; it’s hardly romantic but Billy is in the arms of the boy who loves him, he has a home where he knows he is wanted and safe and without this farm none of that would have happened.
So, fuck it. Maybe Billy is a farm boy after all and now he has the hat to prove it.
*