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When Steve finally came to with a hearty gasp, he found that he was not in the Upside-Down version of Lovers’ Lake like he’d assumed he would be when he entered the gateway.
No, instead he finds himself looking at what appears to be a trailer of some sort. It’s cluttered and dank from the air around it. Cups and mugs line the walls, pieces of clothing scattered about, and weird and suspicious fucking particles are floating through the air. He tries hard not to breathe any of them in but it’s difficult when they’re so pervasive. He’s not even afforded the luxury of a shirt he could pull up over his nose – and whose bright idea was it to take off his clothes before he jumped into the lake? What exactly was he trying to accomplish? He shakes his head and winces as his shoulder twinges in pain from his fall, looking around once more for something to cover up with. The room has plenty of clothing to spare but getting up off the floor is a tiring process that sets his joints crackling from whatever he’d just gone through.
He snatches one of the shirts off the floor – a band logo on the front and a list of some sort on the back – and puts it on, hoping that the Upside-Down is more of a humid, tepid climate than actual Hawkins, Indiana, because he is not looking for a jacket. Maybe even Mediterranean. Sighing, he glances around himself once more and approaches the wall with pictures.
“Of course,” He grunts as he spots framed photos of Eddie Munson on there. This is where Chrissy was killed. Another gate. This means – well, nothing good for him or Hawkins, at least. He looks up through the hole in the ceiling and sees a mirrored image of the room he’s currently in. He could probably climb back out and, well, be safe for the moment. But. Knowing Nance and Robin, they probably jumped in after him, so he needs to go find them first if that’s the case.
He briefly considers taking a pair of shoes from Eddie’s room but decides he’d rather walk on glass than take anything else from the Upside-Down. He does, however, grab a knife from the kitchen. It’s not his trusty nail bat but it’ll do.
“Deep breaths, Harrington.” He mutters as he braces himself for what’s waiting outside the trailer and pushes the door open.
The first thing he notices is the deafening silence. It’s silence like the dead are silent. Like you stare at them, at an open casket, expecting the corpse to speak, to make noise, but there’s nothing but the rushing of air as he moves. Silence is good, it means there’s nothing in his vicinity that can take a chunk out of him. He’s had enough of that for a while.
The second is the red sky, the perpetual night, the clouds that don’t move. The atmosphere is stale, like a musty basement that hasn’t been aired out in ages. It’s just light enough for him to see where he’s going as he takes tentative steps towards the road and the faint streetlight. It’s light enough, but the shadows are still there, and they’re playing with his mind. This kind of shit is why he doesn’t sleep well at night anymore. The endless hours staring at the jacket that’s hung on the back of his door, that he forgot to put away, waiting for it to start moving… but it’s so much worse here because every little thing casts a shadow, every pebble, every fencepost could start moving at any given moment.
The streetlights cast muted beams of light, there’s no buzzing of insects around the bulbs, there’s nothing. Everything here is either dead, rotted to mulch or, well, bloodthirsty. And Steve isn’t sure which category he fits. He’s certainly hoping for none, but if he doesn’t get the fuck out of the Upside-Down, then he’ll find his place in a very specific one.
It feels wrong, being the only thing making noise when his surroundings are so mind-numbingly silent. He’s convinced he can hear his own heartbeat at this point, and God knows he’s breathing a lot louder than he should be. And there is – there is a clicking noise.
He freezes.
There is a soft clicking noise, almost like a distorted purr, coming from the darkness in front of him. He grips the knife harder but somehow it doesn’t make him feel any safer. He knows that sound, he knows that sound intimately from an evening back in November, before the whole Starcourt Mall fiasco. From how close to him and Dustin those sounds had actually gotten. It’s a fucking Demodog and the moment it steps out of the shadows, Steve feels dread drip down his spine and settle in his gut.
Two more follow the one that’s clicking at him and Steve knows this is it. This is the way he fucking dies; a complete mess, a lonely burnout, a bum that works a minimum wage job, loveless and delusional enough to wonder what would happen if he just charged at the three creatures with his knife.
He stays perfectly still even though he doesn’t know if their senses work on basis of sight or sound. He’s pretty sure his heart is loud enough for them to echolocate him where his is but he doesn’t move an inch regardless.
The urge to scream, shout, curse the Heavens for putting him in this fucking situation is almost unbearable but he grits his teeth and keeps it all in. Always keeping it all in until he breaks apart into a million little pieces, fragile like the finest porcelain.
Something flaps above him, almost as if out of nowhere, and unfortunately, Steve has always been the type to scream at jump-scares during horror movies.
He’s running as fast as he can the moment the noise leaves his mouth and then it’s not so silent anymore. The thing above him screeches and the Demodogs’ claws skitter against the pavement as they give chase. He can’t think, he can barely breathe, but if he stops then he’s dead. And Dustin will absolutely murder him if he dies now. This was stupid, this was idiotic and Steve is running towards the forest like a maniac – into more darkness where possibly even more of those things lie in wait.
He’s running into the darkened forest but all of a sudden something is also running out of it, fast and barely-visible as it dashes past him, making him stumble. He skids to a halt, the soles of his feet stinging from booking it barefoot. He whips around to see the thing that had come out of the darkness crash into the Demodogs at full speed. He watches, stunned, as the darkness-born figure proceeds to tear into the dogs with its bare hands.
Something rips and gives and one of the dogs howls, causing the thing to howl back, an inhuman sound that rattles Steve’s soul. The figure dismembers one of the dogs and when the other two try to attack by jumping on its back, one of them gets violently thrown into an RV and the other gets its neck gripped and snapped by the figure in one swift move. The being then proceeds to rush towards the nearest lamppost where it shimmies up it and jumps off the thing to get the weird bat creature that’s been circling the scene, ripping its wings apart as if it were a mere fly.
And just like that – it’s silent again.
Steve gapes, uncaring if he’s breathing in weird, fuck-y particles, as the figure lands in a crouch and straightens up, unfurling to its full height.
It’s distinctly human-shaped and Steve hopes to whoever is listening out there, that it’s not that fucker Vecna.
And it’s still so dark in the Upside-Down that he can’t really make out anything distinctive about the figure aside from broad shoulders and clenched fists. He thinks it might actually be a guy but he’ll reserve his assumptions until he sees if the thing’s face will split open all petal-like or not.
The thing then starts approaching him and Steve realizes that he’s stood directly under one of the streetlights, painting a nice bright target onto his own back as usual. What about him screams kick me, exactly? He bets it’s the eyes that he’s inherited from his mother, wide and guileless – empty of all thought, as Robin would sometimes tease.
His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and he can’t feel his legs but he holds his ground.
“A little late for a walk, pretty boy.”
A voice he never thought he’d hear again sounds out and his heart jumps into his throat in a single dizzying jolt. The voice is rough from disuse, gritty and deeper than he remembers it being and he can’t fucking believe his eyes as the figure of Billy fucking Hargrove steps into the dim light with him.
“Billy.” He chokes out, dropping the knife – he – he doesn’t even have time to flinch as Billy grabs it before it hits the ground.
“Shh, Stevie, no loud noises.” Billy brings a finger to his own mouth in a shushing motion.
“No loud noises?!” He hisses, “What the fuck was that fucking howl, then, huh, dickhead?!” His hand makes an aborted movement to smack against Billy’s bare chest before it quits halfway there when he realizes the other’s covered in grime and Demodog guts.
“That was a warning for them to stay away,” Billy shrugs and Steve – Steve can’t fucking believe his eyes.
“I’m stuck in a nightmare.” He concludes and Billy snorts, leaning his head back and shaking out the wild mane of dirty curls, finally revealing his face.
“Dream about me often, Harrington?”
“Did you just skip over the part where I said nightmare?” He places his hands on his hips, baffled. Apart from the dirt and gore, the stubble and the pallor, Billy looks shockingly normal. He does, however, reek.
“I’ll take that over nothing.” Billy winks and Steve throws his hands up in a universal sign of I’ve given up.
“Jesus Christ, man, how are you here? How are you alive?” He feels like he might pass out. Like he’s losing blood even though he hasn’t gotten hurt much thanks to – thanks to Billy fucking Hargrove.
Billy shrugs again, throwing the knife into the air, letting it spin before catching it by the handle. Steve refuses to be impressed.
“I woke up here after the whole possessed thing. Wounds healed, gnarly scars all over my body and the fucking senses of a goddamn dog. I can smell everything, this place is a hellhole.” Billy mutters, grimacing, and Steve doesn’t have the mental capacity to process this shit.
“You’ve been alive this whole time?” He sucks in a sharp breath when Billy nods.
“Shit, man, I’m sorry, if we’d known-”
“What, Steve?” Billy scoffs, “You and your gang of fourteen-year-olds would have busted open the gate and come lookin’? I don’t think so.” The shorter shakes his head, bringing the curls back to obscure his features.
“I’d like to think we would have at least tried.” He offers uselessly and Billy flicks him on the forehead.
“This brings to question, though.” Billy changes subjects as inconspicuously as an elephant in a china shop tap-dancing. “How are you here?”
“Um. Well.” He looks around, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. “Can we go somewhere not out in the open?”
“I can protect you just fine, Stevie.” Billy grins, puffing out his bare chest and Steve’s momentarily distracted by the gruesome yet intriguing sight the other makes. He looks absolutely fucking feral and it’s sort-of working for him. Steve hates him (and himself) for it a little.
“Even from the fucker that’s been killing kids in Hawkins again?” He challenges, crossing his arms in front of him and Billy’s face darkens, a legitimate growl making it out of his throat and lines of black veins creeping up his arms.
“How are you here, Steve?” Billy asks again and Steve looks around as if he’d be able to help if they’re attacked again – as if he’d need to help.
“He’s been killing kids and opening portals into the Upside-Down.” He avoids the other’s eyes, mildly afraid he’ll get his face smashed in again if he offends him somehow. His eyes land on the Mayfield trailer and something clicks in his brain. “Do you know Max and Susan moved here?”
“Yes,” It’s Billy’s turn to look away in embarrassment.
Steve fights back a smile at the sweet gesture and – oh, shit, oh fuck, Max.
Something must show on his face, in his scent or his heartbeat because Billy takes a step closer to him, eyes wide and concerned.
“What is it?”
“It’s Max. She’s – he’s – the kids call him Vecna. He’s targeted Max. We’ve managed to keep him away so far but… we need to kill him.”
“Fuck.” Billy turns to the side, putting his fist through the streetlight, causing the thing to sputter and die out. In the half-dark, his eyes are luminescent, almost like a cat’s.
“We need to get – ah, shit. The others probably followed me in. I, um, sort of got dragged through a gate at the bottom of Lovers Lake.” He smiles at the other sheepishly, receiving a blank stare from Billy in turn.
Billy turns his head towards Hawkins proper and tilts his nose towards the sky as if he’s listening and sniffing for danger.
“Who was with you?” Billy finally asks, moving towards the forest.
“Robin, Nance and Eddie Munson.” He follows after the other but stops at where the tree line begins, eyeing the vines on the ground warily.
“The dealer?” Billy trudges back and grabs his wrist, tugging Steve into a stumble after him. “Stay off the vines.”
“Not everyone can see in the dark, shithead.” He grunts, “Yeah, Munson, Chrissy Cunningham was killed in his trailer over there.”
Billy freezes, causing Steve to bump into his solid back. He lets out a soft oof as Billy refuses to move.
“That means there’s a gate in Munson’s trailer back there, right?” Billy finally grinds out and no, absolutely not.
“Hey!” He tugs out of the other’s hold and smacks his palm against the other’s back. “Look at me, you bastard. You’re not getting out of here until we round up all the others.”
Billy turns to face him, eerily silent as he breathes in through his nose, his nostrils flaring as he visibly reins his anger in.
“Months, Harrington. Months.” Billy grinds out, getting into his personal space and Steve really doesn’t like feeling small but it seems like Hargrove is towering over him. “Do you know the kind of shit I’ve seen, what I’ve lived with. What I survived off of?”
“I don’t – I don’t know. Okay. I’m sorry. But if you know what it’s like then you also know that we can’t leave them here.” He gentles his voice, tilting his head back instinctually to bare his throat to the other, showing him his open palms. “Please, Billy. If that fucker’s out there, then we need your help.”
“Oh, Harrington, you did always beg so prettily.” Billy bends closer, pressing his nose to his pulse point before following it with his teeth and Steve’s entire torso seizes up at the contact, gut clenching with something so close to arousal that he’s momentarily too stunned to speak.
“Is that what you want?” He manages after a few quiet moments. “You want me to beg, Hargrove? Want me on my knees?” He means for it to come out as derisive, mocking, but it scrapes too close to breathy instead.
“Pretty boy,” Billy purrs and Steve can feel the sound vibrating through him. The tension that’s always been between them is back, like Billy never died, like Steve never forcefully distanced himself from the volatile disaster clad in tight denim.
“You have no idea what I want.”
He steps back from the other, careful not to brush up against any vines. “How about we do it like this: we go get them, kill the murderous fucker, and then you can tell me all about it. How’s that sound?” He’s negotiating with the dickhead when he has no upper hand, but he doesn’t think Billy would actually hurt him. Then again, there was that whole thing where he gave Steve a concussion.
“Why should I wait, I could start telling you right now. Why should I help?” Billy taunts, well aware of the fact that Steve has nothing but his own being to bargain with.
“You’re not gonna hurt me, Billy.” He tries to project confidence even though he’s most certainly shaking a little – adrenaline and a form of stupid, idiotic giddiness coursing through his veins.
“I’ve done it before,” Billy grimaces, his shoulders dropping from their aggressive stance.
“But never again, right?” He challenges, feeling out of his depth as Billy gives a muted nod, his mouth pressed tight and flat.
“Good. Come on, we need to get to them before anything happens.” He offers up his hand to motion for Billy to move forward but the other surprises him again by linking their fingers. Steve feels heat rush to his cheeks at the unexpected gesture. It almost seems like Billy’s been chastised, he almost looks like a dog that knows he’s done something bad. It’s oddly endearing.
He allows Billy to lead him through the barren forest and watches his steps, trusting that Billy knows where they’re going.
Nancy is facing down a whole Demogorgon with only a pitchfork to her name in the front yard of the Wheeler house, Eddie and Robin close behind her, more gardening tools at their disposal.
“Go on, boy, get ‘em.” He chuckles at the glare Billy sends his way before the other’s booking it down the street at full speed.
He’s silent and deadly as he tackles the petal-faced monster. The thing screeches as Billy starts pulling and tearing again. These things might not be phased by bullets, but they’re certainly bothered by a fist through their chest cavity.
Steve watches, mesmerized, as Billy’s entire arm goes through the beast. It tries to grapple at Billy’s back but the other is faster, he grabs the flailing arm and snaps it in half like it’s nothing more than a thin branch. Nancy, Robin and Eddie watch as well, but instead of being fascinated and deeply disturbed by themselves like Steve is, they’re stunned as Billy goes to town on the Demogorgon, dragging it’s body across the asphalt and curb stomping the thing’s head until it’s no longer moving.
“Hi guys,” He sidles up to them, feeling oddly proud as Billy howls his victory.
“Steve!” Robin rushes for him, patting him over and checking for obvious injuries.
“Nice shirt, Harrington.” Eddie smirks and Steve ignores him in favor of stopping Nancy from getting any closer and stabbing Billy in the face with the pitchfork.
“Relax, Nance, he’s helping.”
“Is that Billy Hargrove?!” She hisses at him and Steve nods.
“Yeah, uh, surprise. I guess.”
“What – what’s wrong with him?” Robin hushes, clinging to his arm, using him to shield herself.
“He’s sort of dead but not really. He got all Upside-Down-ified.” He waves the other over and Billy shakes grime off himself like a mutt shaking off water. “Just, like, no sudden moves and no loud noises.”
“Is he all there?” Nancy’s voice is tight and full of suspicion and Steve doesn’t blame her, really. It’s his own fault he kind-of finds him sort-of hot. In that weird caveman way.
Billy’s obviously always been attractive, but Steve hasn’t always been willing to acknowledge the fact. And before everything that’s happened (but after he beat him up), Billy had been enough of an asshole that his attractiveness had been relegated to a backburner. But now – undead and weirdly emotionally vulnerable with nothing to lose – Steve finds himself conflicted.
“Not that we’re not glad you’re alive, but, like, how and are you still possessed?” Robin, still behind Steve, questions.
“Fuck off, Buckley.” Billy grunts and tugs Steve away from her, gripping his wrist as they enter the house.
“Man, I’d venture and say he’s fine.” Eddie chuckles, still somehow composed despite their run-in with the Demogorgon.
“Not that I’m not extremely flattered, but you guys shouldn’t have followed me in.” He turns to the trio, trusting Billy to walk them down a path without any obstacles again.
“It was either that or the cops,” Eddie shrugs.
“And another dimension is better than Hawkins’ finest?” He scoffs and Munson grimaces with a shrug.
“It is when you’re wanted for murder and Satanism.”
“That’s fair, I guess.” He concedes and turns to see Billy has paused in the middle of the dining room.
“The dweebs are here.” He motions to a weird light emanating from above the table. “Listen.”
And he shuts up, accepting the warmth of Robin at his back as they all try and focus. It’s faint at first, but after a moment he hears a faint but familiar voice. It’s Dustin, followed quickly by Lucas’ frantic babbling.
Billy looks at the light and the particles there intently – it’s almost beautiful, in a strange other-worldly way.
“You’ve seen this before?” He asks and Billy nods.
“In the trailer that Max and Susan moved to. I could sometimes hear them speaking, could hear Max crying.” He grimaces and tugs Steve closer to himself and the light. It reflects in his blue eyes, the particles making his pallid skin glow. He’s really fucking pretty, actually. Steve sucks in a sharp breath.
“I’ve never tried touching it, though.”
Steve, never being the one to doubt himself much, pushes a hand into the light and the voices fall silent. He pulls his hand out and then back and Dustin’s screech reaches them before the kids start talking in a pace too fast to follow as distorted that it is.
“You know Morse code, Hargrove?” He grins at the other and Billy’s eyes spark.
“I know enough to signal SOS,” Billy follows his lead and pushes his fingers through the light repeatedly in a steady pattern.
“Steve?!” Dustin’s voice reaches them and he sees Eddie clap a hand over Robin’s face as she starts to cheer, stopping the loud noise from coming out of her mouth.
“Fuck, what do we do?!” Lucas whispers frantically and Steve hears the adults calling for them.
They need to make this quick.
The kids devise a plan and with the plan they manage to urgently communicate to them that there is a gate in Eddie’s trailer and that they should meet up there.
He wishes he could somehow communicate the Hey, man, Billy’s alive, tell Max so she doesn’t get a heart attack when she sees him through Holly’s toy but they don’t have enough time. Every moment they spend here, they’re in more danger and Vecna is closer to doing whatever he is that he wants to do – taking over the world, or whatever.
So they get to the trailer using bikes and Steve is helpless as Billy opts to use his seemingly endless stamina to run alongside them. It’s freaky.
And when they land on the other side – all of them being helped and hoisted up through the gate by Billy’s strong arms – he witnesses Max fall apart at the sight of him. It’s as heartbreaking as it is heartwarming to see her come running into his arms, sobbing, uncaring of the grime and the stench as they whisper hushed words into the space between them.
They’re gearing up to execute their stupid plan.
Well, it’s not the plan that’s stupid explicitly, rather – it’s them who think that they can survive it. And Steve – Steve’s feeling a little faint at the thought of dying. It would be for a good cause, sure, but he’s still so fucking young.
He winces as the door to the bathroom slams open and something clatter in his back yard, right by the pool.
Rather than trying to hide Eddie in another boathouse or shed, Steve had offered up his house as a base for their preparations after their shopping trip since it’s already always empty anyway – and accessible through the forest behind the trailer park.
He watches, mouth half-open as Billy walks out of the said bathroom, followed by a cloud of steam, with only a tiny towel wrapped around his lower half.
It’s strange seeing him in the light of day. He looks almost like his old self except for the, well, excessive scarring and the way his eyes change color into a pale white in certain lighting. He’s strutting towards him and Steve finally remembers to move. He offers the other the clothes he’d managed to find that would fit him and Billy takes them with a pleased hum.
Like this, despite the scars, he seems even more confident than before. Like the power he now has, the sheer raw strength he possesses, has made him truer somehow. Steve’s noticed the shift – oh, he’s noticed it.
“Thank you, kindly, Stevie.” Billy purrs, putting on a truly atrocious, thick southern accent and Steve rolls his eyes, fond despite himself.
“Try not to get blood on these.” He wiggles his fingers at the clothes and Billy scoffs.
“No promises, Harrington.” The other winks and Steve turns around, walking away as he feels the heat rushing to his cheeks. He joins the rest in back yard, watching as Dustin and Eddie wrestle playfully while Erica gives them the stink-eye. It’s cute. Eddie is good with him, good with all the kids.
Max and Lucas are off to the side on one of the lounge chairs, talking in a hushed tone, lost in their own world.
Robin is standing next to Nancy, gaze intently following the shorter’s hands as she checks the gun and tries to explain something to her. Robin looks both baffled but interested, eyes darting from the gun to Nancy’s face every once in a while. Nancy is patient with her, which is good, because he knows how Robin can sometimes get. It’s good – it almost looks like a regular hangout if you ignore the guns and Molotov cocktails strewn about.
He doesn’t think they’re ready, but he knows they’ll try their best.
Eddie hotwires them a van from one of the neighbors and Steve is charged with driving it. Billy pushes his way through the gaggle of children and young adults, ignoring calls of shotgun and sits himself next to Steve despite it not being a good idea. Then again, the whole town’s looking for Eddie, nobody is expecting Billy to be back from the dead.
Before entering the back of the van, Eddie shoots him this look that spells out things that Steve would rather not think about.
Like the feeling he gets in his gut when Billy throws an arm around the back of his seat and relaxes in his spot.
He grips the wheel and drives.
“I hate that we’re going back, you know.” Billy hums when they start approaching the trailer park. Having already dropped Max, Lucas and Erica at the Creel house, he seems even tenser than he already was. Which is understandable
“I can imagine,” He glances briefly at the other’s profile, not allowing himself to get caught up in staring at the other.
“Oh, believe me, Harrington, you can’t.” Billy sighs. “I used to think I’d never get out, that I was forced to forever roam that fucked up version of Hawkins. That it was hell and it’s what I deserved.”
“Billy.” He tries, knuckles white on the wheel but Hargrove just shushes him.
“Shut up, Steve. I’m telling you this now and then I don’t want to hear about it ever again.” The other smacks a hand against his knee and his leg jumps, releasing the gas pedal abruptly before pressing back down a little too hard. Someone bangs on something in the back of the van.
“You know what made me think it was hell? Aside from all the critters and monsters, it was the fact that I couldn’t fucking die. No matter what I tried, Steve, I just kept coming back. How fucked up is that?” Billy shakes his hair out so that it covers his face and this, this is what Steve was talking about.
This odd vulnerability and openness that comes from realizing that you have nothing left to lose. The honesty suits him. It makes him more approachable, more like someone Steve could get along with. And that’s a dangerous thought considering they’re most certainly driving into an early grave. Well, not Billy apparently.
“I don’t want to get stuck there again, Steve. I really don’t.” Billy slumps against the van door, looking drained all of a sudden.
“Just, no matter what happens, if you do survive this and I don’t… try and get the girls and the two dweebs out before they can get hurt, okay?” He swallows heavily.
“Do not,” Billy hisses, a hand coming to grip his wrist on the gearshift. “Do not even think about doing something stupid and self-sacrificing, Harrington, or I swear to fucking God, I will end you myself.”
“No promises, Hargrove.” He smiles shakily and parks the van, knees shaking and heart already beating loudly in his chest. Game time.
“So,” Eddie drawls, leaning too close into his personal space. “What’s the deal with you and Hargrove?”
“There is no deal.” He elbows the other away, conscious of the way Billy’s eyes snap back to them from ahead – he can’t hear their hushed conversation but he sure as hell can sense when somebody’s gotten close to Steve. It’s weird as fuck. It’s almost like the Upside-Down sharpens his monster side, makes him more in tune with his powers, or whatever.
“Are you certain about that?” Eddie carefully steps over a thick vine on the ground. “Sure seems like there’s some sort of deal there.”
You have no idea what I want, rings out in his head, repeated steadily by his brain as the ghost of Billy’s touch on his body haunts him. Eddie pats him on the back and up ahead Billy stops in his tracks, letting Robin and Nance pass him on their way to the Creel house.
“No, man, I’m not – interested.” He manages to grind out because saying into guys feels like a lie. Especially when his every recent interaction with Billy had been charged in the sexual way and brought that weird flutter into Steve’s stomach.
“Interesting.” Eddie taps his fingers together, rings dull in the moon-less sky.
“He’s a dickhead.” Steve tries again but it only makes Eddie grin harder. The guy then does something very stupid and grips the back of Steve’s neck in an obviously-jovial gesture of friendship, like he’s enjoying Steve’s misery, and is promptly met with Billy’s arm darting out and smacking his hand away from Steve.
“Hands off, Munson.” Billy growls and Steve’s entire speech about there being no deal between them goes up in smoke.
“Fuck off, Hargrove.” He says pointedly, trying to save face and Billy flinches, and – great. Now Steve feels bad.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “Just… let’s focus on the mission, okay?”
He isn’t prepared when Billy nudges closer to him, resting a hand around his throat briefly before pressing his nose to his pulse point. He stands there, frozen, as Billy detaches himself from Steve and stalks back to head their little convoy.
“No fucking deal my fucking ass, Harrington!” Eddie chortles and Steve feels warm from the roots of his hair to his fucking toes.
“What the fuck,” He mutters to himself quietly, decidedly not thinking about what the fuck is going to happen if they survive this.
Somehow, the world doesn’t end.
He’s sure it would have. By what Nancy has described Vecna had shown her, Hawkins would have been split apart and thrown violently into conflict with the Upside-Down. If they’d gone after Vecna alone, if El somehow hadn’t already been working on it, if Billy hadn’t been there to warn off the Demobats and to punch a hole through the fucker’s body as he burned in the Creel house. They’d have lost this battle. They would have lost a lot more than just the battle, too.
They drag themselves back to Eddie’s trailer before the gates get the chance to close, the woods eerily silent around them again. He drags his feet, kicking aside dead vines with vengeance as he trails behind Billy who’s leading the way. His bones feel heavy and his mind is buzzing, the adrenaline leaving his system rapidly.
He stumbles over one of the vines he was trying to move out of the way and he’s ready for the impact with the hard ground – that doesn’t end up happening because strong arms are around him.
“Careful, princess, don’t want you getting hurt now that the fun’s over.” Billy keeps his voice low, intimate almost, between them as the other’s struggle to keep pace with them.
“I don’t know if I’d call that fun.” He grumbles, letting Billy hold his weight for a brief moment before he rights himself.
Billy doesn’t release his arm, though. He secures rough fingers against Steve’s wrist and Steve tries not to think about how that fist had shattered Vecna’s ribcage not too long ago.
“Most fun I’ve had in a while.” Billy insists and Steve doesn’t feel like talking much so he just hums.
Eddie sidles up to them, looking vaguely anxious now that they’re about to reenter the real world. “You guys think I can crash with you until I don’t have psycho teen killers looking for me?”
“Sure,” Steve responds the same time as Billy hisses out a low no.
“It’s Steve’s house.” Eddie points out and Steve squints at Billy.
“Oh, and you’ll be staying with me, will you?” He tugs on his arm but all it does is bring Billy closer to him, his grip unrelenting.
“Course I am. You found me, you get to keep me. I’m your problem now.” Billy grins, teeth sharper than he thought they were usually.
“Jesus, I changed my mind.” Eddie grunts but Steve can’t just let the guy sink or swim when they get out.
“No, it’s fine. He’ll behave. Won’t you, Billy?” He hisses out and Billy looks a little cowed again.
“The moment I see something I shouldn’t have, I’m fucking leaving.” Eddie warns and he wants to smack the other but he has no energy to follow through so he just stick his tongue out instead.
“Pretty boy,” Billy purrs again and Steve elects to ignore both him and the warmth pooling low in his stomach.
Once they reach the trailer, Billy helps everyone out of the gate until there is only him and Steve left.
He’s looking up at Robin who’s just gotten off of the mattress in the real world when hands rest slowly and gently just above his hips. He shudders, eyes dropping down as he’s being turned around to face Billy.
“You ready, baby?” The other grins and, that’s a new one, he’s never called Steve baby before.
“Let’s get out of this hellhole.” He nods and Billy doesn’t wait for him to grip the rope and boos him, he launches Steve upwards and Steve can only yell as he lands on is back on the mattress.
“Fuck!” He grunts as Billy follows him immediately, landing on top of him in a crouch.
“Hi.” He squeaks out and Billy grins down at him before helping him up and off his ass.
He collapses onto his bed, the clothes he went into the Upside-Down still on because he has no more energy left in him for anything else.
He’d shown Eddie the guest room on the ground floor before he practically crawled up the stair on all fours to his own room.
He’s ready to sleep for a thousand years, ready to take advantage of the exhaustion and sleep without nightmares for once, before something warm is collapsing against his back.
“Get off,” He groans as Billy lies directly on top of him. He can’t even be bothered being weirded out by the whole situation with how exhausted he is.
“No,” Billy grumbles, worming his arms under Steve, gripping tight onto his chest.
“You’re heavy, you fucker.” He whines because Billy is, like, a lot of pounds of solid muscle.
“Fine.” Billy says and then, in a complicated movement that Steve can’t keep track of, he somehow ends up laying on top of Billy, cheek against the center of his chest. He listens to the other’s heartbeat and feels mildly frightened with how low and slow it is.
“You’re like a lizard,” He says distractedly and Billy’s chest rumbles with a quiet laugh.
“Go to sleep, Stevie.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He’s warm when he wakes up. Incredibly so. He’s warm enough that he’s sweating.
And he’s being also pressed rather insistently into his mattress, face-first.
He whines and the weight on top of him answers with a pleased purr.
“Get off,” He demands, “I gotta piss.”
“Piss the bed,” Billy responds and Steve gags a little at the idea.
“That is absolutely fucking vile, man.” He tries for a pushup but his muscles betray him, sore and aching and his back twinges painfully. He must have released some sort of noise because Billy is getting up and off of him at an alarming speed.
“You okay? What happened? Are you hurt?” The other digs his fingers into Steve’s sides and he relaxes into the hold now that the weight isn’t crushing him.
“’m sore” He admits and Billy eases up on his frantic searching
“Oh,” The other releases a low breath. “I can help with that.”
Steve wants to turn back, to look at what the other’s doing but he stops himself, afraid of what he’ll see on Hragrove’s face if he does.
Billy straddles his thighs and Steve freezes.
“Uh?”
“Relax, pretty boy, your virtue is safe with me.” Billy chuckles and then there are strong fingers kneading the sore muscles of his back.
The groan he releases is positively indecent.
“Holy shit,” He grips at his pillow, the heat from Billy’s hands seeping into his bones as the other digs into his back.
“What do you say, baby, am I good with my hands?” He feels Billy lean over him, feels the heat of his chest against his back.
He swallows heavily, conscious of the way his dick has started taking an interest in the events that are transpiring. And there’s that word again, baby, like they’re anything more than rivals-turned-reluctant allies by the circumstances they were faced with. Steve know that letting anything happen would be a terrible idea.
“I still need to piss, and you need another shower.” He pushes up on his arms but the only thing it accomplishes is bringing Billy’s tits flat against his back. And they’re frankly impressive, sure, but Steve’s not at all prepared for thinking about them this early in the morning. Early being around noon. He should get up and make them some food.
“Stevie,” Billy purrs again and Steve simply cannot.
“Need ta’ go check if Eddie perished in the night.” He wiggles out from under the other, gently reminding Billy that there’s another person in the house with them.
“Fucker,” Billy mutters under his breath and Steve feels that pang of irritation again. Eddie’s done nothing wrong and he’s not going to stand for Billy’s dickish and juvenile posturing.
“He’s my guest and if you plan on staying here, you’ll behave. None of your peacocking like we’re back in high school, no weird popularity pecking order bullshit. One out of pocket comment and you’re out of here, man.” He points his finger in the other’s direction and Billy frowns, looking at his hand and the waving digit.
“Munson’s pretty alright actually. He used to sell me weed, has good taste in music.” The other crosses his arms over his chest.
“Then what’s the problem?” He throws his hands into the air, exasperated.
Through clenched teeth, Billy growls out a low no fucking problem, Stevie and disappears into the en suite bathroom.
“Unbelievable,” He scoffs, making his way down the hall into one of the other bathrooms.
“Morning, Harrington.” Eddie mumbles from the kitchen island, looking beat and still tired despite the amount of rest they’d gotten.
“How’d you sleep?” He passes the other, patting him on the shoulder as he engages in the eternal battle that is making coffee in his complicated and probably too expensive coffee maker.
“Pretty good, actually. Nightmares haven’t caught up yet.” Eddie hums, turning in his chair slightly in order to observe Steve’s struggle better.
“Be prepared for a few sleepless months soon, then,” He chuckles sardonically and Eddie winces.
“How long is a few?”
“I’ll tell you when I find out.” He grimaces and turns to the coffee maker, “Coffee?” He offers and Eddie shakes his head.
“Caffeine makes me jittery and then gives me the shakes.”
He shrugs and sets aside a cup for Billy when he finally shows his face. They lapse into companionable silence. Eddie looks like he’s going to keel over any moment now and Steve knows he doesn’t look like a daisy either. He’s achy all over again, whatever Billy had done to his back has worn off. He’s thinking about passing out on his feet when he sees Billy rounding the corner.
“Morning, ladies.” Billy strolls into the kitchen, drawling like he’s not newly back from the dead and only mostly-human, like there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. And like he hadn’t slept in Steve’s bed, snuggled up real nice and cozy in his side.
“Sleep well, Hargrove?” Eddie raises an eyebrow at the other.
“Oh, like a babe, Munson.” Billy purrs and sidles up to Steve, grabbing the mug out of Steve’s hand rather than the one on the counter. He’s close again, pressed all along Steve’s left flank like this is something they do. Eddie is eyeing them in that way that implies things again and Steve’s mildly irritated at those implications.
He tolerates it until Billy starts slurping loudly at his coffee and slings an arm around Steve’s waist.
“Okay, I’m making food. Hope everybody’s okay with eggs.” He pours out the untouched coffee into the sink, rinsing the mug out, just to give himself something to do – so he can ignore the offended pout Billy is giving him.
“Eggs are fine, Steve. More than. At this point I’d eat a Demodog.” Eddie whines, dramatically throwing himself over the kitchen island and Billy grunts.
“Trust me, they don’t taste very good.” Billy mutters and both Steve and Eddie blanch at the comment.
“I take it back then,” Eddie amends, somewhat sympathetic.
Steve’s cracking eggs into the pan, Billy still uncomfortably close to him, when the phone rings. They jump, turning to look at the source of the offending noise.
“Are you gonna get that, pretty boy?” Billy nudges him and Steve shakes his head.
“Eddie, you can go answer it. It’s probably one of the kids.” He waves the other away and Munson scrambles to get it before the kids call in backup.
Once Eddie’s out the room he turns to Billy – who had been glowering at Eddie unrelentingly since Eddie had made the mistake of laughing at something Steve had said.
“What did I say?” He hisses and Billy reels back, surprised.
“What?”
“Stop glaring! And stop standing so close to me!” He hisses, pushing the other away with his elbow. “Ever hear of personal space?”
“Sure didn’t seem like you minded when we were in the Upside-Down, pretty boy.” Billy growls and Steve feels his cheeks heat.
Okay.
So.
Maybe he’d taken advantage of Billy’s bulk and his powers in order to feel a little safer while they were stuck in the unfamiliar dimension. Maybe he’d allowed himself to be protected for once, maybe he even enjoyed having Billy’s fingers gripping his wrist for security. Or, maybe he was stupid to trust the other so much when he’d done nothing to earn it, and now Billy’s gotten it in his head that there’s something there between them that there isn’t (regardless of how Steve’s libido feels about this thing that isn’t there). It still embarrassing to be called out on it, though.
“We were in danger and you are impervious to monster claws, unlike the rest of us.” He grumbles back, focusing on the eggs so he doesn’t accidentally burn them.
“Oh, Stevie.” Billy crowds in once again. “When I said I could smell everything. I meant everything.”
Mortification settles in his gut as Billy’s words connect with the neurons firing in his brain. Billy can smell everything. ‘Something, something, pheromones’ flashes bright in his head and suddenly he’s aware of how often in the last two days his dick had acted out of line at the sight of Billy, at his proximity, at his strength.
“I’m reentering the kitchen!” Eddie announces before he appears in the open arch of the doorway, one hand over his eyes and the other patting the air.
“Fuck off, Munson.” Steve snorts, momentarily distracted from Billy and his own misery. “Who was it?”
Eddie grimaces, moving his hand. “It was Dustin. Jason and his psycho killers are still after me. They managed to get them off our trail for now but, eventually, they’re gonna find me.”
“Jason Carver? That shitstain?” Billy leans out of his personal space, for once interested in something other than Steve.
“Yeah, he’s gone full here’s Johnny,” Eddie shifts on his feet uneasily. “They’re still convinced I killed Chrissy.”
“Fuck, man, didn’t Hop say you’ll be absolved of all charges or something?” He takes the eggs off the stove and prepares the bacon.
“Yeah, but that’s gonna take a while. Even longer if I have an angry mob riding my ass.” Eddie comes over to stand on his other side and Steve hears his stomach growling at the smell of bacon grease.
“You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need to, Eddie.” He smiles at the other reassuringly and Eddie gives him a timid one in turn. They’re not friends, not really, but if a ten-year-old Mike could have housed a runaway kid that had possibly murdered people with no hesitation, Steve can offer the guy he sort-of knows a place to stay until he’s a free man again.
“Mind if I call my uncle? I don’t want him to worry, I gotta try and explain all of this to him somehow.” Eddie plucks one of the freshly fried bacon strips from the plate and Steve doesn’t have it in his heart to reprimand him.
“Sure, man, go ahead.”
“Thanks, Harrington. Good bacon, though, fuck I’m starving.” Eddie jogs out of the room, obviously eager to get the phone call over with so he can get back to his late breakfast.
“We should try helping out somehow.” He hums idly, plating the food and setting it on the kitchen island.
“Fine.” Billy sits his ass heavily onto one of the chairs at the island. “Tell me what Carver’s been up to since I’ve been gone.”
“Well, he became mister popularity, as far as I know. With me an’ you an’ Tommy gone, he became the new King.” He tries not to show how shocked he is by Billy’s offer. “He was dating Chrissy. Real religious, too. Held this weird speech before the last big game, mentioned you by name even.”
Billy growls, “Dickbag.” He shovels bacon and eggs into his mouth and chews, quiet in contemplation.
“What are you thinking?” Steve takes his breakfast at a more moderate pace, observing the muscles in Billy’s face twitching minutely.
“I’ll tell you tonight.” Billy grins and Steve’s only mildly disgusted by the fact that he’s doing so with food in his mouth.
“Come on, Munson’s asleep.” Billy jolts upright in bed and Steve startles from where he was dozing off.
“How can you tell?” He grunts, putting on a jacket as Billy opens the door to his room quietly.
“I can hear his heartbeat slowing down.” Billy says like that’s not one of the most insane things Steve’s ever heard.
“So you can, like, hear good, too?” He whines, thinking about Billy having overheard his and Eddie’s conversation in the Upside-Down.
“Just heartbeats.” The other shrugs, “It’s like I’m hardwired to fuckin’ blood or something. It’s distracting.”
“Good to, ah, know.” He winces as his own heartbeat speeds up.
“Worried, Harrington?” Billy turns to him, pushing close like he is wont to do. “Do I make your heart skip a beat, sweetheart?”
And the thing is – the real fucked up thing is, is that Billy does. And Steve has so many conflicting feelings about him that his heart ends up doing all sorts of weird things when he’s around.
“Let’s just go do whatever you have planned.” He rolls his eyes, playing unaffected.
“So trusting, pretty boy, it could get you killed one day.” Billy shakes his head but descends the stairs regardless.
“Hasn’t yet.” He mumbles and follows closely behind.
Only when they’re outside does Billy pause. He brings his nose to the sky like he’d done in the Upside-Down, like he can possibly catch Jason Carver’s scent on the wind.
“What are we doing?” He asks, shivering slightly as the sleep deprivation sends a chill down his spine.
“We’re going to persuade Jason to give up his witch hunt.” Billy grins and starts heading down the road.
“And how exactly are we going to be doing that?” He hurries after the other, running a hand through his hair.
“Only way assholes like him understand.” Billy’s grin is sharp as he looks back at Steve and his eyes are luminescent again.
“Religious guilt?”
“Violence, Harrington, come on.”
They find Jason Carver and some of his cronies at the quarry. They’re seemingly taking a break from their vigilante duties down by the water, engaging in a lot of underage drinking.
“The fact that you can locate people by scent is both terrifying and impressive.” He crosses his arms over his chest, finally giving Billy the recognition he deserved for his newly acquired skills.
“They smell like the fucking gym locker room, it wasn’t that hard. Hormones.” Billy snorts, peering down at the group of rogue teens.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“I need to get the dickbag alone. I’ll start making noise up here, keep an eye out for Carver and follow him, ill track back to wherever he goes eventually.” Billy shrugs out of his (Steve’s) shirt and shakes out his hair, making it look wilder, tossing the garment for Steve to tuck into his waistband. “I wouldn’t recommend being seen by any of them.”
“Solid plan.” He says distractedly, hands wringing the material. “You’re putting a lot of trust in my ability to sneak around.”
“Just keep out of sight, pretty boy, they’ll be busy.” Billy takes off at a run after a final grin his way and suddenly, Steve sees rocks sliding down the Cliffside and trees shaking along the line of the quarry as Carver and his friends startle under the bright moonlight.
They start shouting among themselves and Steve’s eyes follow Carver as the group breaks out in a run with their flashlights up the steep incline and towards the trees. He moves slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the team captain. He crouches down, waddling until he, too, is hidden between the trees. It’s easy to track the beams of the flashlights as they scramble through the thicket.
A terrifying howl rips through the air, sending Steve’s knees buckling a little and some of Jason’s cronies start screaming shrilly. They scatter further apart, terrified by the inhuman sound that Billy had just let out, scared out of their mind and Steve would be, too, if he were in their place. He rolls his footsteps and wishes he brought the bat with him. Whatever, he could probably overpower an 18-year-old, right?
He ducks behind a tree as the moonlight shines down on Carver’s frantic form. He’s holding a shotgun to his chest and he’s trembling, looking all around himself as Steve spots Billy jumping from tree to tree in an acrobatic display that has him dizzy, making a lot of noise.
Jason’s merry band of vigilantes has abandoned its leader, the guy’s alone. Steve looks around one more time in order to be sure before he steps closer to where Jason has his shotgun trained into the air.
“Carver,” Billy’s voice reverberates all around them, bouncing off the surrounding area eerily. It’s deeper than Steve’s know it to go, full of gravel and grime and months of living in the Upside-Down.
“Who’s there?!” Jason yells back, voice trembling but persistent.
“Carver, Carver, Carver.” Billy drops out from the trees unexpectedly. Jason lets out a short scream and Billy earns himself a shotgun shot to the chest. The sound is loud and abrupt.
Steve freezes as animals hurriedly leave the area, birds flying out of the treetops in an uncoordinated rush.
“Tsk,” Billy clicks his tongue and swipes a hand through the nasty new wound that’s decorating his chest.
Steve can see him in full from where he’s standing. He’s mildly nauseous at the sight and he wants to go check if Billy’s okay but he can’t be involved in this, not outright. Best he can do is trip Carver up if he tries making a run for it.
“Now why’d you go and do that, huh, Jace?” Billy brings the hand to his mouth full of sharp teeth and licks his own blood up. Steve’s stomach knots at the lurid sight.
“Ha – Hargrove?!” Carver squeaks and Billy chuckles.
“Yes… and no.” The other is enjoying this, Steve realizes. He’s enjoying seeing Carver squirming and scared, on the verge of pissing himself with how terrified he is. “Neither here, nor there.” Billy amends and Jason’s hands drop the shotgun just a little.
Billy takes the advantage, ripping the gun out of his hands and tossing it aside. Steve blinks and in the next moment he can see Carver’s feet leaving the ground as he’s being hoisted up against the tree by Billy’s hands.
“Let – let me go! Help!!” Carver screams but all Billy does is tilt his head back, letting Carver get a good look at him – black veins, luminescent eyes, scars and all.
“A little birdy told me you’ve been making trouble in my absence, Carver. That you needed to be reminded of your place. That you needed to remember that you are nothing but a pathetic fucking worm.” Billy sneers and Carver starts praying.
He watches, fascinated and wondering if there’s some sort of history there that he doesn’t know about, as Billy lets out a maniacal laugh.
“Ooh, you’re talking dirty to me now, Carver, is that it?” Billy lets him drop to the ground, heavy like a sack of grain. “Tell me, Jace. I want to hear it from you. Who do you think you are, hm?”
“Get the hell away from me, you demon!” Carver screams and tries to scramble away but Billy grabs him by the ankles and drags him back.
The other’s crouched over Carver like this and to Steve, he looks larger than life. He looks feral, he looks like the monster that had ripped Demodogs and Demogorgons to shreds with his bare hands. It’s terrifying. No wonder Carver starts crying the moment Billy lays a hand on his cheek roughly.
“Your buddies are gone, Jace. Nobody’s coming back for you. I can play with you all night long, darling.” Billy threatens and a hot spike of irritation laces down Steve’s spine at the pet name. He grimaces at his own reaction, wondering if Jason’s finding this scary or if he thinks Billy’s spouting nonsense like Steve often thinks.
“What – what do you want?!” Carver sobs, hands scrambling against the dirt, gripping at clumps of dried grass.
“I want you to stop playing God’s little soldier, Jason. I want you to stop shoving your nose where it don’t belong. I want you to leave these forests, this town even if you’re feeling particularly fond of your life.” Billy purrs laying sharp teeth to Carver’s throat. It doesn’t – Steve swallows – it’s not the gentle press of teeth Steve had experienced from Billy in the Upside-Down, no. This is a threat, it’s clear as day, that Billy can and will rip Jason’s throat out with his teeth if he has to. Well, Steve hopes he won’t but he can’t exactly stop the other if he tries to.
“What I do doesn’t concern you,” Jason tries again – stupid and stubborn.
“Oh, but it does. I’m gonna let you in on a secret, Carver.” Billy’s hand clutches at the other’s jaw, turning his head so they can lock gazes.
Steve holds his breath, frozen where he stands.
“Eddie Munson didn’t kill your little girlfriend, Carver. I did. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will make sure you suffer the same fate. I will not be so merciful when it comes to you. I will tear and pull slowly and you will feel every excruciating second of your death.” Billy promises him and Steve finally releases the air that’s been trapped in his lungs.
Except – wait.
Did Billy just?
Huh.
“You – you did… you killed her?! You monster!” Carver doesn’t even pause to think that maybe Billy’s story doesn’t make sense before he’s trashing underneath the other hard enough to almost dislodge Billy from his perch.
Billy growls, takes one of Jason’s arms and jerks it upwards. He pushes the sleeve of the green letterman jacket up and Steve watches, mildly mortified, as Billy bites into the other’s arm – pressing teeth drawing blood as Carver howls in pain.
“Let this be a reminder, Carver. You ever see me in town, turn the other way. Breathe about any of this to anyone, you and they will be dead. I’m a man of my word, Jason, even more so now that I’ve died.” Billy’s grin is bloody, the thick liquid dripping down his chin and mixing with his own where the shotgun wound has started healing back up.
“Have I made myself clear, boy?” Billy sneers, slamming Jason down against the ground for emphasis.
“Yes! Please! Don’t kill me, please!” Carver cries, big fat tears streaming down his blotchy cheeks as he trembles, prone and curled around his bleeding arm on the ground.
“Excellent. Hopefully I don’t see you around, Carver. Goodbye.” Bill straightens up and stretches, cracking his spine as he walks away.
Steve follow him through the darkness, barely making a sound as they walk further away from the crying senior.
“Can’t believe they made that guy team captain,” Billy scoffs finally and Steve wheezes in surprise, still speechless.
“Enjoy the show, Harrington?” The other turns to him, looking unbothered and gruesome in the pale moonlight.
“Jesus Christ, Billy. Now they’ll be looking for you.”
“Nah. Or, well, maybe, but at least I can defend myself. Unlike Munson.” Billy shrugs and holds out a hand in order to help Steve cross a fallen log.
“Gross, no.” He swats the other away and Billy pouts.
“You’re-” Billy’s words get cut off as Steve, unfortunate in his poor coordination, tumbles across the log and onto his ass.
“Fuck!” He whines, embarrassed again to be caught lacking basic human skills in the other’s presence.
“So much for planting your feet, huh, baby?” Billy’s chuckle sounds undeniably fond and Steve’s cheeks heat, heart picking up speed. Which is bad because now he knows Billy can hear it.
“As I was saying.” Billy crouches at his feet, where he’s still inelegantly sprawled on the ground. “You’re so full of shit, Steve. I can smell exactly how much you enjoyed the show. I could hear how your heart gave you away. And yet you’re so resistant, princess, why’s that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Purposefully obtuse, the only way to live one’s life without any worries, he’s found. It was so much easier when he didn’t know about half the stuff that he knows about now. He should have stayed stupid.
“Stevie,” Billy’s eyes flash and then he’s crawling towards Steve on all fours. The neurons in Steve’s brain promptly stop firing, going blank at the sight. It’s like watching a large, predator cat approaching. He’s terrifyingly beautiful, graceful and powerful and Steve’s caught out with nothing to say, completely stumped.
“God, pretty boy, you’re driving me crazy. With your big eyes and your dumb little furrowed brow. What are you thinking about, huh? What’s got you stuck?” Billy’s hands and arms have come to frame Steve’s hips, the heat of him radiating and seeping into his chilled body.
“You’re crazy,” He lets out a faint laugh, it sounds pathetic even to his own ears.
“Am I, now?” Billy leans in until their noses are a mere inch apart. “So you don’t like it when I do this?” The other reaches up with the bloodied hand and places it around Steve’s throat. He sucks in a breath of forest-y air, aware of how compromising their position really is. He swears internally, palms sweating and elbows locked to keep him reclined casually, this isn’t going to end well.
Unless it does.
His dick certainly seems to think it will.
Billy’s fingers flex, “Or when I call you pretty, when I call you baby?”
He wants to whine as his dick gives a painful twitch within the confines of his tight jeans. He should have just stayed in his tracksuit. He doesn’t think there’s even any use in denying it any longer. Billy knows, he’s reading Steve’s every thought on his face. He’s seeing through him like he’s transparent, like he’s made of glass.
“Billy, this is a terrible idea.” He swallows thickly, barely breathing in fear of connecting his chest to the other’s.
“Why?” Billy leans back, looking perplexed and puzzled.
“Why?” Steve mocks with a laugh that sounds only slightly panicked. “Billy, you’re you and I’m me. You hate me – or, well, hated me. We’re an explosion waiting to happen. The only reason you haven’t been on my case these past few days is because we were in, like, mortal danger.” He looks away, unable to meet the other’s stare.
“Don’t you revel in a little chaos, Steve? Isn’t that why you always get yourself in trouble?”
Steve doesn’t know what Billy was trying to accomplish, but instead of whatever, his voice comes out sounding petulant and rather shy.
And does he? Does Steve really throw himself at danger, heedless of consequences? Maybe. But not – not because he enjoys it. Not because he loves the adrenaline rush. It’s because he’s the only one that can. Except that’s not true either. Nancy and Jonathan are more than capable of taking care of themselves and the kids. But Steve – Steve has less to lose than they do.
“You with me, pretty boy?” Billy’s hand is gentle on his face, thumb rubbing underneath his eyes.
“Yeah. Just. I don’t – it’s not what you think. I’m beginning to realize it’s not what I thought either. It’s not like I want chaos, I just – you know, if something happens to me, nobody’s gonna...” He shrugs, not finishing the sentence because he can’t bear the thought of being laid open like that.
Except, again, Billy seems to see right through him.
Another hand comes to join the other on his face and the grip Billy has on him turns firm.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Harrington.” Hargrove hisses. “Listen to me because I’ll be saying this only once.”
Steve is reminded of their talk before the big fight, of his Billy had threatened him into not doing anything self-sacrificing. Maybe Hargrove understood better than Steve thought, even without words.
“I,” Billy takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I don’t hate you. I never hated you. I was an idiot, I was a dickhead, I was so angry. All the fucking time, but Steve, I never ever hated you.”
“Billy,” He hushes.
“I don’t – if anything were to happen to you, Steve… Don’t – I won’t let anything happen to you. This is a fucking promise. And if something were to fucking happen, know that, Steve, I’d miss you like crazy.” Billy brings their foreheads together and Steve feels like he’s about to cry.
He might already be crying. The words bounce around in his brain, trying to find an anchoring point, but the dissonance between who he knew Billy to be and who Billy is right now – seated mostly in his lap, with their foreheads pressed together and crying silently – is far too great.
“Why?” He grips the other’s wrists, fingers circled around the strong bones.
“What do you fucking mean why?” Billy rumbles, low and threatening and Steve shrugs, helpless.
“Why do you care?” He whines, confused and completely lost in the other’s blue gaze.
“Harrington,” Exasperated again, Billy smiles ruefully. “I’ve had the most embarrassing fucking crush on you since I first saw you at Tina’s Halloween party in those stupid glasses with your big hair, Nancy Wheeler on your arm.”
Steve’s pretty sure he’s stopped breathing altogether. In fact, his heart might have given up on him, too. God knows his brain’s not home at the moment, would you like to leave a message?
“No,” He chokes out and Billy laughs.
“Yes.”
And the worst thing is, is that it makes perfect sense. Why would Billy hate him? Why would he challenge him every step of the way, why would he seek him out when Steve had done nothing to him. Why would he stand that close to him in the showers?
“That’s stupid.” He feels heat rushing to his cheeks. It’s one thing to have all that unresolved tension between them – the long looks, the physical aspect of it, the posturing – it’s another entirely to have feelings involved.
“You’re telling me,” Billy leans back out and Steve mourns the loss of the other’s warmth. “I died for your ass, Harrington, talk about fucking lame.”
“Shit, Billy, I didn’t know.” He’s certainly more obtuse than he thought. But – but it’s not like he thought it was even an option. Billy was always swarmed by girls or his own posse of Steve’s ex-cronies, it never even occurred to him.
“I didn’t want you to know.” Billy admits, “It matters less now. Dying puts things into perspective.”
It’s that vulnerability that Steve’s been seeing in the other. Except, it’s not making Billy weak, no, it’s making him free. Dying had set something inside Billy loose and he’s freer than ever. It’s kind-of inspiring, actually. And Billy saying all of this, saying he'd miss Steve, it doesn't make the feelings go away entirely, but it - it's nice to know that he's got someone there, someone who would notice if he died tragically fighting for the people of Hawkins.
“Dying, and, well, this weird animal thing I got going on now.” Billy rolls his shoulders and Steve’s mesmerized by the motion of them, the way his muscles flex and ripple. “All I want to do these days is bite you and leave a nice few bruises where everyone can see.”
His stomach clenches, knees jerking together under Billy, at the idea. Fuck, okay. Get it together, Steven.
“That’s rude and possessive.” He manages to get out before he does something stupid like offering his throat for Billy to rip into.
“I know, God, do I fucking know.” Billy whines, low and pathetic. “I’m trying my hardest here, Stevie, I’m being respectful and shit.”
Steve lets out a snort that turns into a full laugh as he falls flat on his back. He feels inexplicably light, he feels weightless even with Billy’s bulk pressing him into the ground, getting his shirt bloody in the process.
“You’re laughing? I’m suffering from blue balls and you’re laughing?” Billy growls again but it’s good-natured this time, nose close to Steve’s. “I want to tear you apart, Stevie. In a good way, I promise.”
Steve’s laughter cuts out abruptly, his lungs collapsing on themselves as a weird rumble starts emerging from Billy’s chest. The sound is akin to a purr and Steve, instead of being horrified or scared like a normal person would, he’s – endeared.
“You’re not a lizard, you’re a cat.” He places a hand to the other’s bare chest to feel the vibrations against his palm.
“I can be whatever you want me to be, sweetheart.” Billy’s smirk is something else – a remnant of a time passed, of a Billy Hargrove that got into Steve’s face any chance he got, a sly look in his eyes whenever he was near. It still looks so handsome on Billy, even with the scars and the wild eyes, and the too-sharp teeth.
“We should get back. Just in case they’re still in the forest.” It’s a distracted response at best, he’s torn between giving into Billy – pride be damned – and trying to squirm away.
“And have Munson cockblock me again? No thanks.” Billy’s scoff is loud and insistent and Steve’s left a little speechless.
“What makes you think anything would have happened if he hadn’t been there?” He persists, arms crossed over his chest as he lies on the ground.
Billy, who is still leaning over him – kept upright by the sheer strength of his core – peers down into his eyes, a skeptical look on his face.
“Come on, Steve, you know I can smell it on you.” The other says, plain as day and Steve’s still embarrassed about that despite the casual way Billy is going about it. “You’re so horny for it, Harrington.” Billy leers and Steve’s hackles raise in response.
“I can be horny and not want anything to do with you.” He points out, trying not to think about what it is exactly.
Billy lets out an honest-to-God whine, petulant and pathetic and it makes Steve feel only a little bit powerful.
“Did you forget about the massive crush part?”
“Stop being entitled. Just because you have one on me, doesn’t make me obligated to return your feelings.” He says just to be difficult, just to see Billy squirm, to knock him down a peg. It’s a lie, of course, he’d want probably nothing more than to give into Billy, repercussions be damned, but. But.
“Stevie,” Billy whimpers, nose pressing into the hollow of his throat, causing Steve’s pulse to jump.
“Have you earned me, Hargrove, huh?” He uncrosses his arms and brings his hands up to cradle Billy’s jaw. “Have you been good for me?” His earlier comparison about Billy being a cowed dog comes back to him.
“Saved your life, didn’t I?” Billy growls and Steve tsks, a dismissive motion, scrubbing his thumbs in an effort to clear away the flaking blood. “Twice.”
“Yes, but, you also gave me a concussion, a nasty hairline scar, made my life in school hell for a good while-”
“I’m sorry,” Billy lowers himself down until his chin is digging in between Steve’s pectorals. His wide, blue eyes blinking owlishly, ass up in the air with how he’s positioned himself. It’s ridiculous.
“I’m sorry, Stevie. I was a fucking asshole, I know. I’m – I’m trying to be better. I will be better.” Hargrove promises and Steve can see that he’s serious. There’s an honesty to his words, his actions, that wasn’t there before. Like the Upside-Down cracked him open and pulled out every bit that had been important to him before and discarded it, leaving only survival instincts and a semi-blank slate behind. He’s still an asshole, sure, but it’s not malicious anymore. There’s no anger behind it, just teasing.
With a mighty huff and a half-remembered wrestling move, he flips Billy onto his back.
“Guess there’s only one thing left to do, then, huh?” He grins down at the stunned blonde.
“What?”
“You gotta catch me, Hargrove.” He smacks the other’s cheek lightly and stands up. He starts off at a sprint before Billy can even comprehend what’s happening.
He’s fast, Steve’s always been fast. And even tired and groggy from sleep deprivation, his adrenaline pumping, he’s running for his life. He dodges around trees, trying to make his way back to where he knows a safer area of the forest is. He doesn’t hear Billy behind him, but that doesn’t mean the other isn’t following. He watches his steps best he can, thankful for the moonlight that illuminates the ground, but he still manages to stumble here and there.
A howl tears through the night sky and suddenly, just as Steve’s reaching a little clearing in the forest – a lovely little meadow – something barrels into his back. He expects hard ground to meet him but instead, he’s grabbed by the waist and turned about. He lands on top of Billy as the other takes the brunt of the impact with the ground. He doesn’t stay there for long, no, Billy flips them over, Steve’s front to the ground, and he finds himself mounted. The moan he lets out is completely involuntary.
“Oh, Harrington, you know just how to play me.” Billy’s voice is a low growl again, and Steve can feel the other’s chest heaving.
Billy has him immobilized, teeth pressed to the back of his neck, bared and ready to bite at the slightest provocation.
“Congratulations, you caught me.” He sucks in a sharp breath as Billy tugs him up onto his knees. He’s not allowed to go up far so his legs spread instead, his chest barely above ground. His cheeks heat at the position, it’s fucking – he feels a little bit like he’s presenting himself for the other. But what could he expect when he’d probably set off all of Billy’s less-than-human instincts with his little track star stunt. He feels like he’s on fire, every nerve ending tingling with the rush of being pinned, of running, of Billy’s proximity.
“And what a prize you make, Stevie.” Billy purrs, voice barely above a whisper but so grating that Steve feels it travelling through his entire being.
“Easy, boy.” He groans, his eyelids fluttering as Billy’s hands make a home for themselves on his hips, squeezing.
“Not a fucking dog, Harrington.” Billy manhandles him, flipping him onto his back. And then Steve has to actively look at the naked want in Billy’s blue eyes. He sucks in a breath, blood rushing south at how unhinged the other looks.
“You sure do follow orders like one.” He grins shakily just to annoy the other. “Sure like it when I call you good, too.”
“Steve,” A warning tone but Steve can see how the other shudders. Oh, he has the bastard pinned. Billy’s not the only one that can read people, and unlike him, Steve doesn’t need any supernatural abilities helping him along the way. Or maybe, Billy’s just that obvious.
Situated between Steve’s spread knees, he certainly looks like he’s one sharp word away from barking in upset.
“Stop trying to rile me up, Steve, I’m being nice.” Billy shuffles forward and Steve feels the other’s thighs underneath his, sturdy and firm.
“Hey, I’m just saying it like it is.” He relaxes against the ground and Billy’s hands find his sweaty palms and just like that, Steve’s pinned to the ground. He tests the other’s hold, straining against him and Billy doesn’t move an inch. The feeling of helplessness turns quickly into arousal, it churns in his gut, coming to a boil. It shoots up his spine and settles at the base of his skull, making it a little numb, making him a little stupid.
“What it is, baby, is that you’re stalling.” Billy’s curls come to drape over his shoulders and further, obscuring Steve’s peripheral vision, leaving him focused solely on Billy’s heated gaze and tempting mouth.
“We’re not doing anything in a forest, Billy. I know you’re more animal than human these days, but I still like beds.” He manages to say with a steady voice despite how hard his heart is beating at the thought of Billy – well.
At the thought of Billy taking him then and there, under the moonlight, in a nice flowery meadow. And isn’t that a chaste way of putting it? It’s like he can’t bring himself to call it what it is, not even inside his own head. He’s new to this, sure, but he’s – he’s thought about it. With Billy specifically. And now that he’s here, hesitating, because it’s a lot less heat-of-the-moment than he thought it would be. He used to think about pressing Billy into the shower walls back at school, wiping the smug grin off his face with a fist and a kiss. It would be deep and filthy and Steve would be right in making it rough and nasty. But this – this is nothing like that.
Because Billy is different now. They’re both different. And the situation, despite Billy’s frail hold on his humanity, is calm and peaceful. Steve’s enjoying just lying on the cool ground underneath the other. He’s also enjoying having Billy squirming above him, impatient but not doing anything about it for Steve’s sake. He can’t even imagine what their kiss would be like now. It used to be all brute force and heat but now, he’s veering into tender and that’s – he’s not sure he can handle tender.
But he’ll have to, because Billy is bringing their faces closer together.
“I wanna kiss you so bad, pretty boy.” Billy admits and Steve’s cheeks are blazing with heat. Because Billy didn’t just go for it like Steve used to think about, no. He left the ball in Steve’s court to do with it as he pleases.
“Yeah?” He breathes, mentally cheering as his voice doesn’t crack mid-word.
“Yeah, princess. Ever since that stupid party, ever since I saw you first day I got here. So if I have to wait for a bed, now that I know I won’t lose you again, I’ll wait to have you on a bed, Steve, I’ll wait for your nice sheets and your fluffy pillo-.”
Steve surges up, overwhelmed. He presses their lips together, cursing his own clumsiness as he misses by a smidge before Billy tilts his head for a better angle. Then, Steve finds himself being, quite literally, kissed into the ground as Billy drops his entire weight on top of him. And it’s a considerable weight, but instead of smothered, he just feels content, feels warm.
He was right, the kiss is tender (and tastes faintly of iron - blood -, which is unexpected). It’s soft and Billy’s mouth is slightly chapped, but it’s good. It’s sweet and oddly wholesome and Steve knows that he would have regretted it if they did this fast and dirty in the locker room showers. This is better, so much better than he could have imagined because instead of anger and rage, there is something softer behind it. A joy at being alive, the feeling of closeness, of being wanted and wanting something more than a rough one time deal in a random location. There’s genuine care and affection behind the kiss he’s being given because Billy is putting his everything into plundering Steve’s mouth and Steve wouldn’t think of stopping him, wouldn’t want him to.
A wicked tongue and sharp teeth, Billy is all raw energy, exploring and mapping and Steve’s never been kissed like this before. He groans, hands gripping the other’s face, thumbs tracing the cut of Billy’s jaw. It’s messy, too. Billy’s practically salivating and Steve doesn’t think that’s normal but it’s Billy, and Billy’s a little less than human at the moment, so he should get used to it. The funny thing is, that he wants to get used to it. He wants this to happen again, over and over, as often as possible.
Billy ducks down and bites at the crook of his neck, teeth gnawing at skin and a reedy moan leaves Steve’s mouth without his permission. The pain mixes with pleasure, his dick twitches in his jeans and he wants to say something – to get Billy lower but he’s not that brave enough yet.
Instead he tangles his fingers into Billy’s curls, scrabbling against the other’s skull, tugging and clenching as Billy marks his throat up with red and purple. He feels a hot bout of shame at the thought of his friends inevitably seeing the bruises and knowing exactly what happened.
“Billy,” He says just to break the intense way arousal is running through his veins. Just to give his mouth something else to do that isn’t moaning uselessly.
“Yeah, princess?” Billy breathes against the hot skin of his throat before he begins moving lower on his own. Steve watches, mesmerized as the other rucks up his striped polo, pushing it up until it sits bunched under Steve’s armpits.
Billy’s gaze is hungry, eyes luminescent, as he takes in the naked want that has to be present on Steve’s face. He’s hot all over, he’s sweating and he’s gross on the ground, and he still feels like he’ll never be able to wash Upside-down spores from his hair, but he’s – he’s feeling a little braver now.
“Be a good boy and suck my dick, yeah?” He grins, mustering all the bravado that he can and putting it into the smirk he’s putting on.
Billy chokes back a whine, it’s sweet and ends up being trapped inside his ribcage but Steve hears it regardless.
“Pretty boy,” Another useless warning.
“All bark and no bite, are we?”
“I’ll show you bite.” Billy hisses and closes his teeth over the jut of his hip.
“Hopefully not while you’re down there,” He mutters, breathing in through his nose harshly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll treat the family jewels with the respect they deserve.”
“Less chatting, more sucking.” He pushes gently on the other’s head where his hands are still entangled with the blonde locks.
Billy snaps his teeth at him playfully and Steve’s dick gives a telling twitch again. He has to look away and up, into the fathomless expanse of the night sky lest he do something stupid and premature from the look. Billy’s hands scramble with his belt, undoing the buckle and then the button and zipper all in quick succession. He can only wait, shivering as the chilly night air ghosts over the exposed parts of him, and hope Billy takes mercy on him soon.
Warm, rough hands pulls his jeans and underwear down, exposing him to the elements and Steve’s a little horrified that he’s letting this happen out in the open like this. He stares, wide-eyed, at the moon and the stars and wonders if he should have maybe exiled Eddie from his house for this.
Billy’ hands leave him and Steve finds his hips being lifted up, the shirt Billy had discarded in the beginning is spread across the ground underneath his ass. It’s – oddly thoughtful.
“Fuck, Steve.” Billy grunts and Steve’s eyes are drawn to him again.
Billy is pressing his mouth against Steve’s knee, the denim can’t be comfortable.
“Fuck, I’m gonna suck you off but I want to – we need that fucking bed, real fast.” Billy wiggles where he’s knelt.
“Fuck, okay, yeah. Next time, I promise.” He grips at the grass and the flowers as Billy’s breath hits his dick.
Billy’s mouth is all wet suction and warmth. It’s almost too hot. Billy’s a fucking furnace and Steve feels that heat in his every pore. Entirely too-skillfully, Billy bobs his head up and down his length, mindful of his teeth and the strength with which he’s holding Steve’s hips still. He moans, as the other laves under the head, whines as the other’s hand circles the base briefly. Steve’s not – he’s not small, he’s probably above average (he is, he’s noticed) but Billy still gives it his all and pushes, and pushes with watery eyes until his nose is nearly pressed into Steve’s skin.
“Fuck, baby.” He hisses through clenched teeth, eyes refusing to leave Billy’s tear-streaked face even when all he wants is to roll them back, close them and enjoy the sensation. “Fuck, you’re so good, Billy. You’re so good for me. Oh, just like that.” He praises, goads the other into swallowing around him and Billy does with a whine.
“I know you like it when I call you good, baby. I know, doll. You’re so gorgeous like this. Quiet for once.” He lets out a chuckle that turns into a faint moan as Billy’s fingers dig into his hips.
He brings one hand back to the other’s head, carding through the messy hair. He pets the other gently until Billy seems like he’s going to start falling asleep on him from the soothing, repetitive motion – and isn’t that a thought for another time.
The arousal builds inside him like a slow-rising wave. And Steve’s got stamina, he’s – he wasn’t stupid King Steve for nothing. But Billy is making it very hard to hold back. And he wants to thrust up to release some of that pent up energy but Billy’s still gripping him firmly so he’s definitely not going anywhere. He huffs, tugging at the other’s hair and tugging him up and off his dick.
“Billy,” He pouts and unfocused eyes somehow land on his face.
Billy’s drooling. He’s messy and his lips are red and swollen and Steve’s entire being rolls with a shudder as the arousal spikes again. Fuck. Fuck.
“Baby,” He croons and Billy nuzzles his dick, smearing precome all over his cheek.
“The fucking stamina on you, Steve, Jesus.” Billy’s voice is rough when he speaks, his smile relaxed. The look of self-satisfaction gives Steve the courage to ask for what he wants without any embarrassment. If Billy can so blatantly enjoy cocksucking then Steve’s gonna ask to fuck his face.
“Come on, let me fuck your mouth and then you can do whatever you want with me.” He hushes, shaking the other’s head a little in his grip and Billy goes lax, eyelashes fluttering at the motion.
“Yeah, yes. Please.”
Billy’s mouth is back on him and this time Steve’s hips are free while Billy’s arms support his lower half, hands gripping his ass instead.
Steve doesn’t – he doesn’t remember when’s the last time that he was so hot for someone, when the last time seeing someone on their knees for him gave him such a rush, made him so dazed he almost felt like he was high. But Billy is – Billy is allowing Steve to thrust up into the wet heat of his mouth and Steve is fascinated at the amount of drool the other is releasing. He’s also unbelievably hard, chills raising the hair on his body, leaving bumps on his skin as he shudders. It’s intense, it’s mind-numbing.
“Billy, I’m-” The wave crests and Billy allows him to bury his dick in his mouth as he comes harder than he has in a long while. He groans, loudly, hands clenched in the other’s hair hard enough that it has to hurt. But Billy just moans in response, laving over the length in his mouth gently while Steve comes down from his orgasm.
Added suction on his sensitive dick makes him cringe and pull back. Billy lets his ass meet the shirt-covered hard ground and Steve pants like he’s just run a marathon. He’s sweaty and achy but he’s also blissed out of his mind.
He watches, idly, as Billy pulls off of him, letting his soft dick slip out of his mouth. Then watches, mildly horrified, as Billy lets the come and spit leave his mouth and make its place in a puddle on top of Steve’s stomach.
“What the fuck, man?” He groans, less disgusted than he should have been.
And Billy – Billy is grinning at him brightly, sharp teeth and gleaming eyes.
“My turn,” Billy says as he straddles his lap. The rough material of his jeans is uncomfortable against Steve’s dick but he bears it.
Billy makes quick work of his own pants – no underwear – and starts stroking himself at a brutal pace. His forearm is straining, veins out, and his chest is shining with sweat (and residual blood) and heaving in the moonlight, scars casting an interesting relief of shadows across his flesh. There’s something otherworldly about him that has Steve captivated. He’s beautiful and he’s jerking himself off while staring at every inch of Steve available to him.
Billy’s eyes are glued to the expanse of his chest, bottom lip caught between his teeth, so Steve stretches, giving the other more to work with. He bares his throat, knowing the other will see the sore spots that have begun bruising and Billy doesn’t disappoint.
He groans, his grip growing tighter, his dick drooling almost as much as his mouth had. It’s – fuck, it’s kinda hot. He’s so wet and Steve’s never particularly waned to suck a dick but he does now realize that he wants Billy’s in his mouth real fucking bad.
“Billy,” He coos.” Baby, you’re so messy. You’re so wet and pretty for me. You gonna paint me, huh? Gonna make me a mess, too? Come on, I want you to.”
He could become addicted to watching Billy Hargrove fall apart, he thinks, as Billy throws his head back with another howl, his dick adding to the mess on Steve’s stomach in heavy spurts. He’s tempted to help, to feel, to run his hands through the combination of their releases but he refrains.
“Fuck, Steve. The mouth on you.” Billy finally breathes out, wide chest collapsing back in on itself, making him look smaller.
“You’re one to talk,” He hums. “Blew my mind, baby.”
“Shut up,” Billy grumbles and then reaches under Steve to pull the shirt out. He uses it to clean up the mess from his face and Steve’s stomach – gentle and thorough.
“Hey,” He brings both of his arms up and Billy looks at him quizzically before he realizes Steve’s asking for a hug where he’s still lying on the ground.
He’s once again covered with the other’s bulk. Billy smells like clean sweat and the forest around them. Steve inhales the scent and Billy nuzzles his throat.
“Sorry ‘bout the bruises.” Billy mumbles and Steve chuckles.
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” Billy confirms, pressing a gentle kiss to one of them. “Not about these ones, anyway.”
It’s about two weeks since the whole Creel house fiasco had went down and Steve’s lounging on his living room couch, Billy’ head in his lap and Eddie on the armchair nearby to his left, when the doorbell rings. Which is unusual since Steve doesn't get many visitors that knock or ring the doorbell anymore.
He feels Billy go from asleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds. He’s frightening, really, when he jumps up like that, stalking towards the door.
“Wait!” He calls out, dashing after him. “You can’t answer the door, you fuck, you’re supposed to be dead.”
“It’s Jason Carver.” Billy says, eyes wild like they haven’t been since the Upside-Down.
“Yeah, and if he finds out you’re here, then what?” He smacks his palm against Billy’s chest.
“You want me to go hide?” Eddie asks, nervously fiddling with his rings as he looks between them.
“Just stay out of sight.” He shoos Billy away and heads for the door. He fixes his hair up and decides he can’t really do anything about the pajamas-at-passed-two-pm situation.
He opens the door only as much as the deadbolt chain allows it to.
“What?” He squints at the other.
Jason looks like shit. He’s got circles under his eyes and he’s definitely lost weight since Steve had last seen him. He winces, wondering if they’d given him nightmares.
“Harrington, hey, um.” Carver pauses and Steve raises an eyebrow.
“I was wondering if you’d seen Munson around?” Jason’s voice is quiet enough that Steve almost doesn’t hear it. But Billy certainly does, seeing as he slams his shoulder into the door, briefly closing it before Steve can kick him in the shin and glare him into submission.
“Are you alright, Harrington?” Jason’s concern is odd but not unexpected.
He grimaces. “Yeah, just the – just the dog.” He manages to kick Billy in the knee and get the other down on them before pinning him to the wall with a foot. Billy gives up the struggle and sits there petulantly.
“Why?” He asks, remembering the other’s question. “I don’t even know the guy.”
“It’s just that – um, you babysit the kids that used to hang around him. I thought you maybe knew him.” Jason runs a shaky hand through his hair.
“Wasn’t he acquitted of all charges, or are you gonna start chasing him and my kids all over town like a maniac again. If you come near them, I swear-” One hand on the bolt, he’ll punt the little dirtbag on his doorstep if he has to.
“No – no. I wanted to – I wanted to apologize to him.” Jason admits and both Steve and Billy freeze.
“Well, he’s a free man now, I’m sure you’ll see him around town. Goodbye.” He slams the door closed and looks down at Billy then back up at Eddie who’d been keeping out of view.
“Huh.” He crosses his arms over his chest, letting Billy get up. “Guess that means you can go home.”
“Jesus, I’m scared to even ask what you two did to him.” Eddie’s smile is timid and amazed, almost like he can’t believe he’s going to be able to go back to his uncle.
“What makes you think we did anything?” Billy asks, leaning against Steve.
“Please, you expect me to believe he’s doing this out of the goodness of his own heart?” Eddie rolls his eyes and Steve can only smile at the familiar action.
“Maybe it’s all that religious guilt, he is a church freak after all.”
“Yeah, sure.” Eddie widens his eyes and tips his head up and down like he’s really believing it and Steve snorts.
“Well, whatever. You’re free to leave now. So, go, go away.” Billy makes a shooing motion with his hands and Steve elbows him in the gut.
“Stop being a bitch,” He scolds, knowing full well exactly why Billy wants Eddie gone and out of the house.
“Whatever, Hargrove, you’ll miss me when I’m gone. There’ll be no one around to give you free weed and talk shop and music with you. What’ll you do, listen to Cyndi Lauper? Tough luck, buddy.” Eddie cackles as Billy’s face falls at the realization. “I’ll be seeing you very soon, William.”
“You’re a bitch, Edward.” Billy groans, “Whatever, I’m sure Stevie will keep me plenty occupied now that we have the house to ourselves.”
“Gross, keep talking and you’ll be rooming with Eddie and his uncle.” He threatens, extracting himself from the other’s hold and the situation.
It’s a peaceful day otherwise. It’s calm like things haven’t been in a while, and Steve enjoys it. Enjoys Billy’s company and Eddie’s presence and the way the house doesn’t feel as empty and big as it once did. While he can’t say that things’ll stay this peaceful forever, he’s content to enjoy them while they last.