Just Another Blog

Harringroveweek Day 1-

Static on the TV: what we do in the shadows

Pt.1

Steve hated the rearrangement of his bedroom, he didn't like feeling his back pressed up against the wall, and he preferred space to let his limbs dangle over the bed. But with the original placement of his bed being so close to the window, it was too risky to keep it in that position. A gentle breeze could blow the curtains open and Steve would burn alive to a crisp.

Even with the change, it does not prevent the sun from spilling in. As the sun began to set, a strip of light peeped through the corner right where Steve's arm was resting. When Steve could feel the burning and hear the sizzling of his skin he awoke and recoiled, slamming his back up against the bed. Thankfully it was a setting sun so it didn't burn as badly, he checks the alarm on his bedside table, and the time reads 6:03, in thirty minutes or so the sun would fully set, and in fifty-seven minutes the carnival would commence.

Steve has been a vampire for nearly two years now. He can still feel the bite marks ache against the skin on his neck, he remembers the night it happened. When he and his drunk friends wandered into the woods in the dead of night and stumbled upon a cave. They dared Steve to go in and he was greeted by a swarm of bats. His friends ran off as the swarm fell out from the cave and up into the night sky, but there was one particular bat who took a liking to Steve's blood.

It's a bit of a blur for Steve beyond that point, he can remember the pain of the fangs piercing his skin and the pounding of his heart against his ribcage and he raced for home. The following days were pure agony, the fangs of a vampire bat contain a venom that allows them to extract large amounts of blood, and if you manage to survive a vampire attack the venom will mix into your bloodstream. Your cells decay and your blood turns cold, Steve's last few days as a human were spent lying in darkness as starvation overcame him.

He sits up on his bed and checks the burn, there's a thin red line traced diagonally along his wrist. It will heal in a couple of days; Steve is still trying to figure out how to heal quicker. Some might ask why he doesn't get a coffin. Well, it's like I said Steve doesn't like tight spaces, plus having a regular human bed still gives him some semblance of normalcy.

Steve finally gets out of bed, hopping over the streak of light laid out on the floor, and into the bathroom. He checks his burn again, he needs to wear a long-sleeved shirt as the mark stands out against his ghostly pale skin. He looks up at the cabin mirror, his reflection nowhere to be seen, even though he can't see himself Steve knows he has huge dark circles over his eyes. He brushes his teeth, thankfully water and toothpaste are still things he can have in his mouth that don't make him want to vomit, plus you're not meant to digest toothpaste anyways.

He heads down to the living room and turns the TV on. The rocky horror picture show starts playing thirty minutes in. He mouths along to touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me whilst reading a magazine. Steve expected his life to change drastically after the turn but aside from the killing and bloodsucking, the inability to leave his house during daylight hours, and being a walking corpse...not much has changed. But that's Hawkins, it can even make being a vampire seem like the most mundane thing ever.

Since Steve was the only vampire in Hawkins he had no one to mentor him on his newfound abilities. So far the only thing he could accomplish was transforming into a bat, levitation, and hypnosis but that wasn't enough to keep him entertained. He feels his fangs grow a little sharper inside his mouth, which means he's hungry. He heads into the kitchen and opens up the fridge and pulls out a homemade bottle of blood. One benefit they don't tell you about being a vampire is that drinking large quantities of blood can keep you full for days-weeks even-so for the past two years Steve hasn't had to kill so many people.

He brings the drink back to the couch and chugs away as he watches the movie. Rocky horror picture show was Steve's favorite Halloween movie, he loved the style, the songs, and how it wasn't afraid to be so overtly sexual. Steve sometimes wishes he could dress up like Frank n Furter. He'd love to get dolled up and prance around in lipstick and lingerie but if he that in this town, he'd never hear the end of it. They would ridicule him for the rest of his immortal life but unlike Frank he wouldn't have an army of "freaks" to support him or back him up.

He's so entranced with the movie that he forgets the time. As the going home sequence plays on the TV, Steve watches with his eyes glassing over at Tim Curry's emotional performance. When he finally draws his eyes away from the screen he spots the clock on the counter. 7:10. The carnival has already started.

Steve places an empty thermos and hip flask full of warm blood into his satchel and lifts it onto his shoulder. He exits the house and in the distance, he can see young kids dressed up as various Halloween characters carrying around buckets of chocolates and sweets. As Steve leaves the driveway of his house he brings to pick up some momentum. "BAT!" he proclaims. Suddenly his body evaporates into a thick cloud of smoke and a small jet-black bat appears, flying up away from the patch of smoke and towards the pitch-black sky.

Billy pushes open the door, ignoring the painful vomiting sounds three doors down and takes care of business. It's not until he saunters up to wash his hands that he notices a pair of very familiar Nike's sticking out across the floor. And there sits Harrington, hugging the toilet like a lifeline and panting into the crook of his elbow.

"Harrington? Shit, you alright?"

And normally he'd poke fun. Pretty boy is obviously on something, evident by his blown out pupils and glassy stare. But he's also sweating buckets and shaking, tears and snot running down his face. And Jesus ever loving *fuck*, whoever worked over pretty boy's face wasn't pulling any punches.

Steve squints, eyes traveling slowly from Billy's boots up to his face. He smiles, dopey and high and Billy winces at how it pulls the purple black swelling of his cheek.

"Yeah, I feel way better now."

Which. *Okaaaaay*.

"I'll bet. What the fuck happened to your face?"

"I was integrated-..inter...interror-...I was tortured by Russian spies"

Billy snorts, amused despite himself.

"Oh yeah? That why you weren't at the counter today, sailor?"

Steve scrunches up his nose, and damn, Billy's gunna have to ask Harrington what he took when he's a bit more sober. It's some potent stuff if he's not even flinching moving an obviously broken nose like that.

"You know my shift schedule?"

*Shit*. Billy feels the tips of his ears go hot. Clearing his throat awkwardly as he glances down at his boots.

Time to change the subject.

"Why were you being *interrogated* by Russian spies, pretty boy?"

Steve sucks his teeth.

"Cuz the monsters came back and Robin cracked Dustin's code and then we went under the mall in an elevator to a secret Russian Army base and got caught and then they beat me up and shot me and Robin up with truth syrup and-...umm....I think that's it."

Billy blinks.

Once.

Twice.

And. *Huh*.

"That right?"

Steve nods, swaying dangerously forward before catching himself on the stall doorway.

Whatever he's on, Steve obviously *believes* what he's saying. There might even be something to that 'truth serum' element considering how he's answered all of Billy's questions so easily. And Billy never once in his life claimed to be a good person.

"Why were you with my sister at the Byers' house last winter?"

Steve's head shoots up, eyes wide as saucers and for one horrifying moment Billy's sure the guy is going to start crying. Thankfully he doesn't, just slumps even heavier against the toilet with a sigh.

"Because there are monsters in the dark. And I was supposed to protect them. I *had* to protect them. Hopper said to *stay*. And then you showed up and Max said you were gonna kill her and I was supposed to keep them *safe*"

Billy tries to parse through whatever make believe bullshit Steve is spouting before getting caught on the whole *killing his sister* part.

"What, and you believed her?"

Steve gives him a considering look. Barring the rest of *whatever the fuck* Steve is talking about, Billy isn't sure he wants to hear the answer the guy is obviously mulling over.

Finally, he settles on "I don't anymore", and something sharp and hurt in Billy's chest settles.

"Hmm. Alright. If you've been *shot up with truth syrup*" Billy huffs a laugh "tell me a secret. Something you specifically don't want me to know."

Again, Billy's never claimed to be a good person.

Somewhere under all that blood and bruising, Billy thinks he sees a flush creep up Harrington's neck.

*Jackpot*

"I'm the one who keeps stealing your photo from the pool corkboard"

He-..

Wait

What?

"That's-. Uh. Not what I thought you were gonna say."

Steve shrugs, embarrassed and looking anywhere but Billy. And Billy *has to know*. Has to ask.

"Why?"

Harrington looks up at him, not a trace of a lie in his eyes.

"Cuz every time I go to the pool to ask you on a date I chicken out."

Billy can't feel his fucking *face*. He has no idea what to say.

It's at this exact moment one of Max's nerd friends kicks down the bathroom door, holding Scoops girl by the shirt while Sinclair's little sister levels Billy with a challenging glare that has shame curling hot and acrid in his gut.

"STEVE! We've been looking *everywhere* for you! C'mon buddy, we have to get outta here before the Russian guys find us."

These hicks are fucking insane.

After helping Steve up to rinse out his mouth in the sink, Billy walks out of the bathroom with Harrington hanging off his shoulder when a bullet whizzes past his nose to embed itself in the cement wall.

Henderson is screaming "Shit, they found us!" while two men in black combat gear come charging up the escalator, armed to the teeth. They bark orders out in what is obviously Russian before a show car *flies through the air* and crushes them against the wall.

After Billy is introduced to a little girl with God damn *superpowers*, he's given a bare bones explanation while Steve plays with one of Billy's stray curls like it's the most interesting thing in the world. And monsters are real and there's a spider made of people out to get them and apparently Heather is possessed and all Billy can hear is

God, happy kinktober guys, drawings take a while lately since I don’t have a ton of time.

Tell me Hop isn't now dad to only to El, but to Billy, too. Go on, tell me—oh, wait, you can't. Because he IS.

.

Jim sees himself in Billy. How could he not?

Hop, he fought against anything and everything as a young man. Especially himself. He broke the law. Plenty. He definitely raged against the world, in all manner of ways. Difference was though—the reason Jim didn't end up lashing out at those around him—he always had people looking out for him who gave a half damn.

Unlike the Hargrove kid. He had nobody.

Has nobody.

Well, not anymore.

Nowadays, Billy lives with Hopper and El in their weird little world. So. He isn't an outsider looking in anymore. He's accepted, warts and all. Billy is shown he can change the ways he interacts with the world around him. He's allowed to try. Allowed to explore who he his. And he soon finds out he's loved for it, actually.

Billy is loved. Just for being Billy.

Hop does attempt to uphold the 3 inch gap rule whenever Steve comes over but yeah, no. That isn't happening. And honestly, fair play to the kid. Because the kid's not a kid anymore, he's 18 years old. Hop gets that. Knows he's a man now with a right for his own privacy and hell, Hop will respect that.

But if he hears anything he or El don't need to be hearing? It'll be sleepovers at the Harrington residence ONLY.

Billy, he says, "Fairs fair." And also, a little quiter, "Thanks, man."

And. They're okay, the three of them. Better than okay, actually.

.

boys in love ♥️