“Turns Out I’m A Pretty Damn Good Babysitter.”

“I mean,” Robin started while rolling her eyes and crossing her arms,” You - good sir - are wasting your time on--,” she trailed off, pulling a hand up to gesture to the sea of people passing by the parlor.

Steve touched his face, pulling at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. “Mhm, mhm, mhm...yeah, yeah, get to the point.”

Robin could only gawk at him; as if he were truly the dumbest person she’d ever met (and he was). She scoffed in disbelief. “Steve-- I mean, why do you try with all these others girls, when the one that’s - as they say,” she paused for emphasis, her eyes wide and her speech slow as if talking to a child.

“The perfect girl - is right under your fucking nose, Harrington.” With that, she grabbed his shoulders and whipped him to turn around. Steve was in the midst of telling her off and rolling his eyes when he spotted her...

She had her hair let down, allowing a flow of honey and lavender to waff off her figure (Steve knew because he’d asked her...I mean...of course he did - his hair didn’t get this good all by itself...). Her y/c/e eyes were far from lackluster - shining with untold stories and secrets that Harrington would lamely listen to all night if she gave him the chance...

She held herself with such, grace - such poise - and yet, still held that charm that he loved. Y/N waved at him, her y/c/s skin almost glowing, casting a halo in his eyes...was he seeing things? Robin could see the way the light captured her perfectly in every aspect too...right?

She was shorter than him, though he didn’t mind...Steve liked that he could glance down without her knowledge throughout their days - sneaking a glimpse of a pearly smile, adorable pout, or simple bliss from solely being alive and in her presence.

“Hey, Stevers - you holdin’ down the fort okay?” Y/N asked while cocking an eyebrow teasingly. He could only sputter an answer - nodding foolishly after harshly swallowing his embarrassment down.

He watched as she and Robin exchanged some...complex...handshake (it had nothing on his and Dustin’s, pfft). “Okay? - Okay? - Y/N/N, this dingus chased off more customers than yesterday,” Buckley snorted while cackling like the wicked, wicked witch of the west (she was doing this on purpose and they both knew it....).

Y/N gave a sigh, correcting her hat to sit on her head a bit higher, walking by Steve and patting his shoulder. “Lay it on me, did you tell someone they looked pregnant? Drop their cone? Get their order wrong?” She offered, tapping her nails along the countertop.

“Mmm, bad enough. He told the girl he was basically looking for s--,” “Not. Important!” Harrington cut in with his words drowning out Robin’s - a voice crack and all...Great...just peachy...

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head while her eyes found the edge of her freckled friend’s familiar tally-chart. “You know Steve, if you’re that desperate to get back in the game, I could always hook you up,” the y/c/h haired girl told while flipping her scooper in the air and catching it; not even flinching (a trick that Harrington himself actually taught her - explaining that it’s all in the wrists -see?).

Steve gave an awkward, half-hearted laugh. Waving her off and using the excuse to attend to the next customers as his ticket out of that conversation. In the middle of Steve trying to avoid his own humiliation - he’d missed the way her lips twitched as he denied her offer...as if she’d wanted no to be his answer...

Why was Steve embarrassed about that though? - Well...it’s kinda embarrassing to tell someone that they didn’t want to be set up with their friends...because...even through all the corny jokes, horrendous pick-up lines, and random talks at work (and while babysitting, and while just...well...hanging out...) - he still couldn’t work the nerve to ask her out. After all this time...

He’d known Y/N since, what? - Diapers? Yeah...something like that. Either way, Steve was sure of one thing - he was in love with Y/N Y/L/N and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling. In fact, he found that he kept falling...every....single...day.

He remembered growing up and the idea of even kissing a girl was just the invitation of catching cooties and dying. Steve could remember thinking that he’d never want to even be close enough to a female to...to see that her smile was slightly crooked - only because she always had this sweet little way of grinning, to begin with. He never wanted to be close enough to a girl to realize that their eyes swam more than just one color; no one shade could define the pigment contained in those orbs...

Steve had never imagined he’d want to be close enough to a girl as to remember the way she smelled. Honey and jasmine? No...sometimes it was pine and what he could only describe, as a summer’s night. Yeah...young Steve would be floored to see him now...

Then, they hit middle school; nothing changed...not too much. Steve was still skeptical about this whole girl thing, but he was slowly giving it a chance. Y/N was still his best friend - she still came over and they’d ride their bikes down to the park and sit on the swings...just talking about their day. Or sometimes, they’d just stay inside - binge as many VHSes as they could (Y/N always liked to add her two-cent. Ugh, see this is why they ended up dying! -- What? I would’ve totally taken the red one! -- She’s crazy! -- He’s so smart! -- I thought the mom would be more upset...-- Does that guy even care? -- What color is that? -- Is that misspelled? Steve, Steve! Look!).

Nothing changed...no...well, besides Harrington slowly finding himself looking a second too long at her; smiling a bit too hard at her; listening a little too much to her. He thought it was puberty doing this to him, so he pushed it aside...Then, high school...

Steve remembers it as the first day of November. They had a few months of high school under their belt and were already easing into it all. Turns out, Harrington was what they called...a chick magnet...he started young, what can he say? Though, being fifteen and only barely figuring out where his classroom was...he didn’t care. There wasn’t a reason to care about his looks just yet...he was still trying to figure out which styles were cooler (Senior boys out-ranked him by far, so he had to stand by).

The first day of November...he was walking Y/N home; as he always did (before he got his BMW and his license). She didn’t live too far from him - just down the street, taking two right, then going straight until you passed a big yellow house...stopping at the quaint grey one. He didn’t mind the walk, it was actually kinda nice just to be able to express every thought and emotion that he’d hidden throughout his day. Especially to someone who cared so much about what he had to say.

She’d been wearing his jacket - it was a bit chilly and he didn’t want to be a dick and not give her his coat (his mother would kill him if he treated Y/N wrong). And then - I fell, right? Like in the middle of friggin class...and everyone - and I mean everyone - even Daniel Corvin and he’s like...basically ‘too cool for school’ if you know what I mean. Gosh, I just...I just wish you’d been there. She had been recounting an incident in physical science, telling Steve in great detail how she’d spilled two beakers of - God knows what - on Sally McDonald and Tracie Nelson.

Then - then, Steve - I tried to help them, you know-- like get the stain out...Steve...that stain would not...come out...I thought Tracie was going to bite my head off! Steve had only laughed, getting a shove from the girl in the process. Sorry, sorry - it’s just... If I were there, Y/N - I’d have laughed at you and probably do something dumber. She had smiled at him, and somehow, someway...it was that moment...that moment on the first day of November...walking home from school on a Tuesday...had he felt it.

The sky was a cloudy grey and it had everything bathed in a drab stillness. The wind being the only evidence of time moving as it lifted Y/N’s hair to fly out behind her. Her hands were buried in the pockets of a jacket not belonging to her, too big to fit properly, yet Steve found it to fit her perfectly. Harrington had been carrying her backpack for her (gentlemanly as always) and he’d almost dropped both their bags in the process of watching her...watching her idly kick the fallen leaves as she retold the story.

It was so simple. There was nothing special about that day, he hadn’t won a basketball game (being MVP), nor had he passed some big exam, or even find out he was secretly the heir to some ancient throne...no...nothing that day could explain how he’d acted - nothing causing him to burst with happiness and emotion, the only answer? Steve simply being there with her.

He was in love...

It carried throughout his high school days. He found that despite how many baskets he shot, girls he tempted, and papers he passed...she was still...there. The feelings...still there. Y/N would sit front row, cheering louder than anyone else at his games (even committing to the away-games, claiming she’d never miss him play for the world). Y/N was always there for him when he had girl troubles (either helping him through it, or talking him out of it) - always smiling, and always supportive. Y/N would help him study - they had this tradition of Monday nights being preserved for the two of them. They’d get their week together, planning, discussing, and deciding what was best and when to do it...she was always there.

And she still was.

Standing only a few feet away; a dingy little white hat on her head as she patiently assisted some young boy with what ice cream size he wanted. Shooting Steve a wink or a goofy face whenever she had the pleasure of doing so. She was still there...after all those years...after everything, they’d gone through...and yeah, almost dying two times was enough to drive any girl - hell, anyone - away. Yet, there she was. Still there.

“Sailor boy, you wanna move or what?” Y/N asked, pursing her lips, placing a hand on the counter as she tried slipping by him to reach the mint-chocolate-chip the boy had requested. “Oh, yeah...sure,” he mumbled while shuffling to the right. “Dork,” Y/N huffed with a soft laugh, nudging him with her hip.

He looked up to hear Robin - not so casually - cough. “Ahem - ahem - Stev...a...ahhheeem....you....you suck.” It was a jab at their private conversation...one they’d had a few weeks ago when Robin, the dirty little sleuth she was...had figured out about his (long-term) feeling for Y/N Y/L/N.

What? -- You’re saying, after eighteen years...you haven’t even...tried...to ask her out, Harrington? -- It..it never c-came up! -- Mhm, sure...wow, and here I thought The Hair actually was some big shot. -- I was! - I-I am! I’m just...I don’t...want to ruin...what we have... -- Yeah, said every sad-ending love story ever.

He flipped her off after making sure no one would notice and jerked his hands up in a waggling motion, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head at her. “Wow - yeah, real mature, dingus.” Robin clapped slowly, applauding his act generously.

“Shut the hell up,” he grumbled while running his hands down his face, clawing at his cheeks dramatically popping his eyes wide.

He turned around as Y/N started talking. “You know - as much as this uniform blows - I do say, the tips aren’t bad.” She held up an extra dollar and gave a shrug.

“That’s more than Steve could ever manage,” Robin piped up while leaning out the glass window. Harrington glared at her and only faked a smile. “Please - I can make way more t-than...than that!” He exclaimed, snatching the dollar from Y/N.

“Hey--- hey! Dickhead! That’s mine! I didn’t just amuse a child for twenty-two minutes for your sorry ass to take it!” She whined while fighting a smile as Steve held it over his head, holding it to the light as if trying to figure out its authenticity.

“Mhmm, yes...yes...the serial number looks right...”

“Steeeeevvveee! S-Stop that!” Y/N giggled while jumping up, inadvertently pushing his back to the counter as he only denied her petition, snapping the bill straight a few times.

“Wait a second....is that picture drawn on?” He uttered while gasping loudly, using one arm to hold Y/N away from him as she collapsed into him, complaining and slapping his bicep mildly.

Of course, it was hard to be mad at him...even after eighteen-years, Y/N still could never find it in her to be truly cross with him (annoyed? Sure...but furious...? Not even once). Steve had this incredible gift where - anything he did was always so...good-natured, innocent, and in his own way absurd...Y/N was never given the chance to be mad.

She’d admit, the whole King Steve thing back in his late Junior year and finishing Senior year was a bit much (little did she know he’d done it to try and gain even an ounce of her attention...being dense himself and not understanding he already had it). 

Y/N hadn’t rolled her eyes, or sighed more in her life than when he was in his uphold the name and keep the reputation title...don’t even mention when Hargrove came to town - oooooh, how Harrington made her blood boil -- and yet, Steve would just flash a smile and then trip over air he hadn’t noticed; falling on her bedroom floor, or in the kitchen, or living room...or anywhere possible for Steve to screw it up with his dorkiness -- and she’d still be admiring the way his brown eyes glistened with youth and blamelessness.

It was inexplainable...how she felt for Harrington - really the most difficult thing to concede. He was charming, he was sweet, he was amusing, he was Steve. And she’d been ever so lucky as to see that in him starting from a young age. Y/N couldn’t remember why it had happened...but it had...and she couldn't explain it, not for her life.

It had been late April, Steve’s birthday just around the corner...he had been turning sixteen and he’d found his proper place in their school’s social monarchy already working his way to the top (from his looks to his at-school devious persona...he fit right in). Y/N had always thought he was a bit of a show-boat, but Steve only discerned it as finally figuring out who he was (which was total BS because looking at him now - an eighteen-year-old dork who didn’t have a clue on what to do with the rest of his life...oh, boy had young Stevie been wrong).

His parents had never really been around, which Y/N blamed for his yearn for attention as a young teen. They loved him, of course, they did! -- They just worked a lot, didn’t have a lot of time...and Steve was...well...a lot...of alone. Y/N didn’t accuse him of wanting to seek the approval of his peers. She always told him if that’s what he wanted; she’d make sure he didn’t sink his own (show-boat) ship.

Tommy H. and Carol had been the ones to suggest a big party. They alleged it was his sweet-sixteen and there’d not be another one. Ugh. Y/N had never approved of the pair - Tommy was always rude and had this animalistic manner to everything he did, and Carol was a two-faced backstabber who gossiped more than the bored, middle-aged mothers’ of Hawkins.

Steve hadn’t been too keen on the idea himself - he’d told Y/N in confidence a few nights prior to the birthday bash...(he’d been laying on her bed, throwing and catching one of the stuffed animals she had resting on her mattress - one he’d gotten her to be exact). Why don’t you just tell them that? Steve had only shrugged, squeezing the plushy with a sigh. It’s not that simple, honey. Telling that to Tommy and Carol...is like telling a brick wall to stop talking... -- Steve, how the hell does that work? -- Exactly! It doesn’t!).

Y/N remembered going to that party and finding Steve being jostled around in the midst of it all. An artificial smile that only she knew to be fake in the first place. It didn’t reach his eyes, and his gaze was ducked to the floor...if Tommy H. and Carol had been real friends - they’d have seen how half-assed everything was on Harrington’s behalf.

His pool had been crowded with strangers and Y/N remembered the kitchen and living room not being much different. She’d managed to snag Harrington from the chaos and when he asked her where she was taking him, Y/N had only told Steve to shut up and buckle up.

They drove only a few minutes in soft silence down the road to her house - where he was shocked to see an already made pillow-fort built from her living room; a pile of their favorite/his favorite movies, more junk food than Steve could possibly consume, a mountain of pillows, and a collection of cozy blankets.

W-What’s all-- she’d cut him off, giving Steve a hug from behind and grinning madly. Happy birthday, dork. He’d only smiled, leaning into Y/N’s touch, hands placed over hers; savoring the moment.

That moment...had been when she realized it. He’d been half-asleep, the clock reading a quarter to four in the morning and they’d blown through every movie, picked through every snack, and cuddled with every blanket. Steve’s hair was a hot mess (the long night had drawn out the stray strands and frizzies, and yet he still pulled off the hot part better than anyone else), his eyes held dark-circles under them and he couldn’t keep his head up - a constant battle between slumping and sitting straight.

Steve had been wearing an old red Henley shirt that he’d left at her house; long-sleeved and washed clean for him in case of an emergency like so. He was as shameless as ever, even at sixteen, and had sported his stripped boxers - preferring them to his jeans (not that she’d actually complain...who would?).

Yes - Steve Harrington - the mess on her couch; his head finally falling, finding its spot on Y/N’s shoulder without him knowing...yes...that Steve Harrington was the one she’d fallen in love with in that exact moment.

It felt like a rollercoaster...building up years of friendship and trust, to finally reach the peak - seeing over the edge and only fearing the worst outcome as they began plummeting to the ground...finally reaching that point of no return where the feeling of shock and emotion could only be accepted that this was her reality...the one she’d be stuck with for eternity...her stomach doing worse than flips...

If only Y/N had known...if only she had known that more than a year before Harrington’s sweet-sixteen; a boy walking in the fall with his best friend had too, fallen in love...maybe things would’ve turned out differently. Just maybe...

Steve had finally given the tip back to the shorter girl, ruffling her hat-covered head while Y/N swatted his hand away. They’d all gone back to their actual jobs...Robin coming to do some scooping with Y/N while Steve worked in the back, every now and then switching it up...someone getting tired of taking orders, scooping, or looking through inventory and paper forums.

It wasn’t until Robin opened her mouth that their peaceful unity was broken. Damn theater kids...

“Here’s a tip for you, Steve,” she began while refilling the waffle-cones. “You learn to not be a total dingus when talking to potential customers, and you’ll rack some extra cash!” Rubbing her fingers together, Robin had invisible greens rain down on him.

Y/N could only stifle her laugh, turning head to nod in acknowledgment of another ice cream order. Steve frowned, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, some tip,” he grumbled,” I’ll give you a tip, Robin...”

Y/N clicked her tongue, turning to face the pair, Steve hanging out the window as she glanced between them. “Stevie, it’s wrong to be jealous of my talents...I mean...not everyone can be as amazing as me,” she sighed while twirling the tip she’d received before his face (what was that? The fourth one?).

“Spare me, hun - I could do so much better if I tried,” he huffed,” Problem is - I’m just trying to be nice to you, don’t wanna just...steal all your tips, darling.”

A shared staring-contest later...and it was official...a contest.

It was simple - whoever could collect the most tips of the two by the end of their shift today, would be proclaimed the “better asset to the company” (that’s how Robin explained it anyway, even forbearing a small portion of her whiteboard to keep count for them).

Luckily for them, it was an early Saturday afternoon, and the middle of summer in Hawkins, Indiana...everyone was at the Starcourt Mall if they weren’t at the pool (Y/N had heard Billy getting a job there made quite the impact).

“Ahoy! How can I help you?”

“You look like you want something sweet - how about a cone of cherry drizzle, sweetheart?”

“No, no! Take your time, dear!”

“I insist -- it’s on the house!”

“You’re literally...the best customer I’ve had! No joke!”

“I won’t lie to you - that’s my favorite flavor too.”

Sprinkling compliments here, a kind smile there, and a charming air all around - and they had themselves a competition. Somehow - Steve had found his nerve, Y/N suspected it was whatever Robin had said to him in the backroom (she’d said You know what - let me borrow him for a quick sec, mhmm, yeah...hold on, Y/N/N). Had it been a pep-talk? Maybe some solid advice...or a shot of courage. Either way - Harrington had suddenly found his cool...

It irritated Y/N to no ends, as every time she’d get a tip - he’d one-up her and get twice the amount she had. “All thanks to this,” he’d bragged, gesturing to himself while sticking his tongue out, leaning in too-close for her heart to handle. She had only scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “You mean to say, that ridiculous outfit is doing you some good, Harrington?” Earning Y/N a thump on her forehead, and Steve a slap to his chest.

Steve was in the lead right now; having received nineteen dollars...alone...in tips. Y/N was only a few dollars behind and she knew that if she really upped the ante, she could push ahead - or at least tie the snarky boy.

“You're up, Y/N,” Robin announced while spinning the black dry-erase between her fingers. They’d taken turns - after choosing a number between one-through-ten...Steve had been closer, and he’d gotten the chance to go first (but that had been rounds ago..).

She shot a look at Steve who only smiled and stretched a limb to boop her nose. She rolled her eyes, pretending to bite at him, the air taking a rather severe snap. Turning to face the customer; she missed Harrington’s flush and slack-jaw (also missing how Robin hit his face to get Steve out of the trance).

“Ahoy, cutie! Would you like to set sail on the ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your Captain - I’m Y/N...nice to serve you today.” She offered a sweet simper and held her hands behind her back as she bounced on her heels.

The boy before her, had dark hair (hair that had Harrington judged silently...it wasn’t bad...he was just criticizing how the guy managed to get volume like that - did he use Faberge too?!), and green eyes. He was rather tall, taller than Steve to give an image - Y/N suspected six-foot-two...

Broad shoulders and a kind smile to his sharp features. Y/N had to admit - this guy was...not bad looking. Easy on the eyes, at least he gave off that much. He had a blue button-up on and jeans to match, a blue and white windbreaker complimenting him nicely.

He returned her smile and Y/N felt a slight blush find her cheeks.

“Nice to have you serve me too,” he chuckled,” I’m Shawn, though cutie works just as well.” He offered Y/N his hand to shake and she took it, a short giggle bubbling from her lips as he addressed her as Captain.

“Uh-oh,” Robin teased while watching the scene unfold before her. Harrington had absently begun to grip the counter to the point of his knuckles bleeding white. “Is that...jealousy I smell?” Buckley whisper-shouted while her hands came up to pinch her face together - her lips a perfect ‘o’.

Steve ignored her, chewing on his lip as he listened to the flirting this...Shawn...character was displaying. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much - maybe because Y/N should only be laughing with him like that, smiling at him like that, and talking to him like that...this dude didn’t even know her last name...(and God, Shawn made it sound like he wanted Y/N to take his last name...).

“The special today is chocolate blast, so...if you’re interested in that - I can assure it’ll be worth your money.” Y/N explained while rotating her scooper, weaving it between her fingers. Shawn gave a nod, and then said,” You know what - surprise me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. “Sweetheart?” Steve mumbled while being quietly laughed at by Robin. Steve’s eyes furrowed and he restrained himself from waltzing over and doing something not so company-policy employed.

“Well in that case,” Y/N hummed while glancing at the array of flavors,” I’ll give you a house favorite!” Harrington was one-hundred percent aware of how enchanting Y/N was without even trying...a dangerous skill indeed. Though he wasn’t the only one aware...

He watched the y/c/e eyed girl walk over to their glass-case freezer, leaning down to scoop a large clump of chocolate peanut butter truffle...he couldn’t tell if he were honored to have his favorite ice cream being the choice of surprise (because on one hand, Y/N chose it precisely for Harrington’s reaction, and then, on the other hand, that Steve was sure Y/N didn’t even know existed - she was giving his favorite flavor away to some random dude...).

“Looks delicious,” Shawn complimented, and Steve swears there wasn’t any reason for their hands to touch through the exchange of cone to hand.

Y/N could only nod, turning to the register as she began ringing him up. “Mhm! It’s really good!--,” “Is it your favorite?” the boy interrupted smoothly, leaning his elbows on the counter.

“Haha, no - it’s actually his,” Y/N told while scratching at her neck. The reference to Steve had him hold three fingers up in a weak attempt at hello.

Shawn eyed Harrington, sizing him up before looking back to Y/N (who did this Shawn-guy think he was?!). “Interesting choice.”

As expected, he left (an unnecessarily) large tip...not only pushing Y/N in the lead, but also pushing Steve over the edge.

The opposing man decided to stick around, even after his cone was finished...he sat at a nearby table and was bothering them as they worked (that’s how Steve perceived it anyway...).

Y/N kept getting sidetracked; thus, her score lagging behind Harrington after a few more shoppers... It looked as if she cared on some level - but Steve wasn’t an idiot and he could see how this (not him) alright-looking guy had her attention for the time being.

Normally, he’d ben enthralled to see he’d be winning their contest. He and Y/N had always had these playful kinds of competitions growing up, this wasn’t any different...except it was...because insert this random flirty dude and bam....it throws off everything.

Steve didn’t like the way Shawn would make a specific comment and Y/N would giggle, or shake her head in amusement. Steve didn’t like how Shawn would watch her as she worked - as if trying to remember a hidden pattern. Steve hated how Y/N seemed...okay with this...it drove him absolutely mad.

After roughly fifteen more minutes of Harrington trying to contain his little green gremlin - he gave up. He could only be so nice for so long...after all, he was only just a man.

“Screw this,” he murmured while throwing his hat to the side. Pushing his seat out and walking to the side door (he and Robin had been sitting in the back room while they waited, taking the time to fill a few inventory forums).

Robin raised a brow, peeping out the window to see what exactly had his tailfeather’s ruffled like a sorrowful peacock. She smirked, sputtering her reply.

“Pffft -- y-you really gonna do this? Like...like...first of all, your hat - Harrington, that’s against company policy.” Steve shrugged her off, pressing his back to the door and shoving it the rest of the way open.

“I don’t care,” he hissed. Robin only pursed her lips, arms crossing over her chest. “Mhm...well, customer satisfaction is also part of our company policy...and as far as I can tell,” she urged while her eyes flickered back to the boy talking with Y/N,” He’s looking pretty satisfied.”

Steve grit his teeth, offering a scoff before fulling exiting the room. “Screw company policy.”

“And so I sai--,” “Ahoy! -- I’m Steve,” he greeted loudly, butting into Shawn’s story. Y/N was behind the countertop, replacing an empty tub of plain chocolate with a fresh one when Steve swooped in to do it for her.

He plopped the bucket down and then leaned his arms on the counter, eyes digging into the boy sat at the table-for-two closest to the register. Steve rubbed his cheek and cleared his throat. “Steve - Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh, Shawn, Shawn Gilson,” the stranger replied,” Nice to meet you t--,”

“So, uh, I dunno if you’re aware, Shawn, but - Scoops’ has this, uh,” Steve interjected while snapping his fingers, shaking his head,” This...thing - where customers who spend...too long here, are considered to be loitering.” He shrugged.

“I don’t mean to be that guy - but you should probably go,” Steve continued with a soft click of his tongue, giving a soft suck of breath as an oh, darn.

Before Shawn could answer properly, Steve was hopped over the countertop, helping the taller boy to stand up. “Yeah, I know -- it’s such a bummer,” he spoke over Shawn’s slow and mumbled objections.

“But - it is company policy...and you know--,” Harington continued, giving a final shove to the man; accidentally putting all his body weight into it,”--I’d hate to break company policy.” He winked, waving the guy off,” I uh, took an oath or something.” Hands on his hips, Steve smiled charmingly as he saw Shawn off; spinning on his heels once he believed the rival brunette a fair distance away.

“Well, that’s one way to take care of it,” Robin commented while smirking, her chin rested in the palm of her hand as she stood next to Y/N.

Y/N, throughout the entire interaction - had been astounded, confused, and then slightly flushed as Robin’s commentary had enlightened her to a few things.

“I know, right? I didn’t t-think that guy would ever leave,” Harrington scoffed, while trying to play it off, running a hand through his hair (a nervous tick Steve had that Y/N always found to be adorable).

Robin rolled her eyes, dropping her head to the countertop. Y/N giggled and walked over to Steve, meeting him halfway - now all three employees standing behind the showcases.

“Why’d you do that, Harrington? He was nice,” she noted while crossing her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. Hoping he couldn’t hear the accelerated pounding of her heart or see the shake in her legs as he placed a hand on the surface of the worktop - awfully close to Y/N from what she could judge.

Steve’s jaw was slack as his tongue skimmed his teeth. He shook his head, eyes flickering from the girl before him, to the ground. “Him? - No, no - he was testing it with me, I don’t know about...nice.” In other words, I didn’t like him and where he stands isn’t clear, but my opinion isn’t positive.

“But he was sweet! -- And I’ll agree, kinda cute.” Thus, Steve’s mind blanked completely. Robin was trying to keep herself together, mumbling a low justification of needing to sign something in the back, and leaving them to their own devices.

“What? Are you crazy? - He was staring at your ass every second you weren’t looking,” he droned,” That’s not the kind of guy you want hanging around, hun,” Steve stated, his expression finding one of bitterness and annoyance.

Y/N couldn’t get another word in, Steve going on a heated rant about how unfit this flirty visitor was for her. He’d been winded afterward, having used a wild amount of hand movements and lecturing quite fast - all in one breath. He finished with slapping his palm to the granite counter, driving back his hair as Steve recollected what he’d just said and what had happened...Shit.

“Tell me, Harrington,” Y/N started while looking up to her tall best friend. “What kind of guy would you want hanging around me?”

He choked on his own spit and took a few heartbeats to figure out what to say without breaking every piece of friendship and relation they already had.

“Well,” Steve sighed, wiping his hands on his ugly uniform, they were clammy and his fingers trembled. “You...you deserve someone who...who knows you. I dunno.”

Steve licked his lips and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and deciding to just...say it...after five...heartwrenching years of waiting; craving; pining...This probably wasn’t the first time he’d acted so irrationally...just the first time there’d been a girl named Robin to expose him...

“You deserve a guy who won’t give up on you...even after years of doubting himself. Someone who will be there when you’re upset, and never leave when you’re at your lowest point, Y/N/N. A guy who wants nothing more than to make you smile, because...Gosh, do you have such a pretty smile...He’d be satisfied with just seeing you happy - you know? - even if that means he’s not.”

“Someone who loves that...that you always air-dry your hair because it’s easier than doing anything else, even if that guy insists on proper hair care. Darling...you...you deserve someone who cherishes you in every way possible, savoring the way your laugh sounds after you recite some dumb joke, or die a little when you kick ass in the arcade.”

“Someone who knows that you hate reading books with bent pages, and when you walk, you sometimes skip every other step - almost like a hop. Y/N...you deserve someone who has never wanted anything from you...just...just for you to look at them like they look at you.” He lamented.

“And - I know...it’s stupid - but...you deserve someone who won’t just flirt with you because he can. Someone who’ll flirt with you even when you’re with him because he knows you think those stupid pickup-lines and cheesy jokes are endearing.” His voice cracked and he couldn’t help but bite his lip apprehensively. 

“I...I...I just think...maybe you’re just...looking in the wrong places,” Steve mumbled. Head hanging low. What the hell was he saying? What the actual hell was he thinking?

“Because...I...I don’t wanna sound like a narcissist...but...I always kinda thought...the kind of guy you’d...you’d end up with--,” he paused his eyes searching Y/N’s for the strength to finish.

“Was me.” He breathed.

Steve exhaled shortly, and restated,” I always thought you’d end up with me, Y/N.”

She’d been quiet throughout his speech. Earlier, while Harrington had been escorting Shawn out...Robin had spoken to her.

You know, he’s in love with you, right? -- W-What? -- Y/N...don’t be serious right now. -- Robin - I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! -- You...you seriously have no idea? Like, seriously, Y/N? -- Robin, I-I don’t know.

All Steve does, is talk about you. Think about you. Want to be with you...he told me he’s loved you since he was fifteen, Y/L/N! -- Why...didn’t he say anything? 

Fear is a very powerful sentiment, Y/N. He was scared you wouldn’t return his feelings. -- He...he never acted differently towards me though.

Are you crazy? He practically knows you better than you know you. He didn’t need to act differently because he was just always himself around you. And you see that? See him over there? That, that my friend, is jealousy. Probably one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs there is.

The dirty-blonde had then asked her a question that Y/N had tried to overcome, bury deep within her...to forget about and hopefully never think of again...it...it never had worked.

Do you love him too?

Y/N hadn’t been given the opportunity to clarify, Steve strutting back to them in that oddly proud and embarrassed manner of his. Y/N teased him like she would any other time he acted like a dork...but, asking such a simple question to try and prove Robin right or wrong - had turned the conversation sober faster than her head could keep up with.

Her lungs hurt; had she been breathing throughout the minutes passing? She couldn’t remember - dumbly taking a few gasps, her eyes wide and her hands shaking pulled to her chest. Y/N bit her lip and when she saw the anxiety and panic in Steve’s eyes...she melted.

“I-It took you long enough, Harrington,” she stammered, throwing her arms around his neck, her hat falling off in the process. He tensed at her touch until reality hit and he felt all the air escape his chest - finally sinking into her like he needed her to stand.

Y/N was basking in the moment; relishing the scent of his cologne (the classic Calvin Klein Eternity), the smell of a light floral blended with a woody amber clashed with Steve’s natural musk perfectly. It was comforting. It was absolutely intoxicating.

She hid her face in his shoulder while she felt the tickle of his breath in the crook of her neck. “I...I kinda always thought I’d end up with you too.”

Steve was silent at that, but slowly, slowly; he erupted into laughter. Laughing at himself for having been so scared all these years! After all that damn time...she’d felt the same way! Waiting probably just as long as him! Patiently waiting for Steve’s cowardly self to man up! After all this damn time...she had loved him too.

Robin was slow clapping, using a fake, posh accent to congratulate them. “Bravo, bravo! Steve finally grew a pair!” Y/N was laughing, the vibration of Harrington’s own excitement leaking into her reaction.

The freckled girl gasped, slapping her hands on the counter as she leaned out the shutters. “Dingus - you know what this means...right?” Steve’s face was blank, his arms tightly wound around Y/N still as he tried to figure out what Robin was referring to.

When it hit him, he gave this strangled noise of accomplishment. Harrington picked Y/N off her feet and swung her around a bit, clumsily knocking a few paper bowls to the ground (not that it wasn’t unusual for him to do something so senseless).

“I-It means I rock!” He gushed while placing Y/N to sit on the countertop, jumping around like a child. Just another reason Y/N had fallen in love with him...he never seemed to grow up fully, but she was okay with that...things never got old with Steve.

Robin nodded somberly, pulling the notorious chart back out and drawing on that one, single line that Harrington had been anticipating...

“Yes!” He shouted, not caring eyes from outside the shop were staring. “I finally did it! Fuck! In your face, Robin!” He leered with a bright smile. Buckley rolled her eyes.

“Mhm, don’t get ahead of yourself, dingus. You haven’t actually asked her out... I can take this victory away, you know?” Robin threatened while hovering a hand over the lone tally-mark.

The brunette whipped around, his hair tousled from his jumpiness. He stepped to Y/N quickly who had only been laughing at his interaction with Robin; taking her by surprise when he stood between her legs, hand cupping her face. Steve’s free arm snaked around her waist. His smile looked like it hurt, but Steve didn’t seem to mind.

“So...,” he started, enjoy the display of pink on Y/N’s beautiful features. His mind wandered back to their earlier competition and he bit his lip, trying to contain the satisfaction. “I won our little challenge...,” he drawled while pressing his forehead to hers.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes. She pinched his cheek and poked his side. “After all...that...you ruin the moment with this? Cocky much?”

“No, no, let me finish,” he chuckled, his brown eyes glistening with affection and adoration. “I have about twenty-five extra dollars to spend,” he explained,” Whaddya say to me treating you to a date? I mean...how else can I cheer you up? You must be so sad about losing to the likes of me.”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, but of course -- I don’t think I’ll ever recover from a loss like that...sighhhh...the only cure is...dinner and a movie?” Y/N expressed dramatically leaning back from his chest, a hand pulled to her forehead.

Steve pouted. “Wait...you just asked me on the date...I...I was supposed to ask you!” Y/N shrugged,” Does it matter?”

“Yes! It does matter! You can’t take this from me!” He cried while shaking his head and jutting his lip out.

Y/N snorted, shaking her head at how utterly adorable Steve was. “Fine...I take it back. No dinner and a movie.”

Silence followed.

“This was supposed to be more romantic, you know, but you fucking ruined it,” Harrington accused while laughing, his serious expression breaking.

Y/N scoffed, striking his chest. “Listen, Sailor Boy - if you weren’t such a moron yo--,” and then he kissed her.

It was soft, it as sweet, it was better than anything she’d ever imagined. Her arms circled his neck and his hand pulled Y/N’s face to his as close as humanly possible--

“We run a business, guys,” Robin reminded while gagging and flicking Steve in the forehead as she walked around the counter, trying to awkwardly apologize to a couple that neither Y/N nor Harrington noticed.

Steve helped her slide off the countertop, mumbling a hello to the customers. He looked to Y/N and smothered his amusement at her red face.

While Robin was serving the pair, Steve tried to be useful and helped Y/N fix their topping containers. “So,” he started, clearing his throat and closing the lid of rainbow sprinkles. “Let me try again.”

Y/N hummed, egging him on.

“Y/N - the girl of my dreams, the person I’ve had a crush on for five terrible years...Will you go on a date with me?” Steve asked, turning to face her with a soft smile. “Please?” He added quickly.

Y/N popped a chocolate-chip in her mouth, a small smirk playing on her pink lips. “I would love to go on a date with you, Steve. After all, you did say please.”

Steve didn’t regret breaking company policy...no...not at all.

--

a/n footer: I thought this request was sooo cute! <3 I hope it’s to your liking @billyhargrovescigarette :) I loveddddd writing it!

Billy had quickly snapped to his senses since the phone call began, he was stretching his stiff limbs now and he was much more aware of his surroundings than before. Talking to her the second he woke up...felt normal...it felt...right... Like he could do this every day and be okay with it. Her voice had this soothing element to it, he liked to think it was saved for him the way she spoke. The edge of a playful song, the way her tone was almost musical. He’d be jealous to think anyone else heard Y/N the way Billy did.

“Just some red trunks,” he smirked,” Are you actually going to the pool for the girls - or did you want to see me again, princess?”

Y/N snorted, and he savored the way her laugh sounded even through the skippy receiver. “Please - I have to give you your leather jacket back, remember? And if anything, I’m risking my own ass by going to the pool. Word on the block is; Hargrove’s a flirt.” He rolled his eyes, a smile never leaving his tanned features. She had that uncanny ability to have his lips twitch into a good-natured expression with just a single breath...

“Sounds good - but, you do know that rumors are only just rumors, Y/N. You never know what the truth is unless you find out for yourself.” Billy couldn’t help himself. There was just something about her that had him hanging off her every word. He liked talking to her.

“Alright, I’ll see for myself I suppose. I think Harrington has work today - so I’m not sure if the girls will want to invite the boys - you know, since Steve banned them from bothering him when his shift starts. But...I guess you don’t really talk to Harrington so you woul---,” “I’ll see you at twelve, Y/N.” Billy cut in gently, chuckling at her rambles.

Y/N was glad she had the protection of miles between them and a phone being their only connection. It did a wonderful job of hiding her creeping blush. “O-Okay, Billy.” Then, she hung up.

“Billy? Why’d you call him?” Max asked suspiciously while poking at the food on her plate. Y/N had been up since nine, and she’d cooked both girls a delightful breakfast consisting of waffles and fruit (she figured El would appreciate it and the brunette had - thanking her wildly before digging in).

“I was checking in to see if it was okay to bring you to the pool, he said yes by the way,” Y/N explained while wiping down the countertop, oblivious to the flour on her cheek.

El had a small grin on her lips but hid it with a mouthful of batter and strawberries. Max looking as if she were deep in thought didn’t help either. Y/N only raised an eyebrow, deciding not to question the acts of her young friends.

“We’ll leave, say, a quarter to twelve?” The sitter offered, brushing y/c/h from view. Nodding to the older girl, Eleven then spoke up. “What do you think about Billy?” That had caught Y/N off guard. Wiping her hands on a towel, she replied slowly.

“Oh...he’s...nice, very sweet - I...uh...like talking to him,” she told, a slight blush finding her. “Why do you ask?”

Max nudged El with her foot under the table, unknown to Y/N, and the redhead cut in for her friend. “No reason, just curious. He’s not usually...so...sweet.”

“There’s a first for everything, Maxine my dear,” Y/N chuckled while sipping at the cup of coffee she’d made for herself. “There’s a first for everything.”

They’d gotten ready and soon left for the pool (leaving Hop with a kind note; reading their whereabouts and that Y/N would be with them the entire time). The boys had all decided to bother Steve at the mall (even with his disapproval and complaints), so it was just the three of them. Not that they minded, a girls’ day out was always fun; better than being stuck with four idiots and their ring-leader made from Faberge (...poor Robin).

They’d taken Y/N’s car - her pride and joy - a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, a sleek black with only the best cassette tapes stored in the glove compartment. Steve had always been a bit jealous, Y/N had bought it knocked up and busted - yet, she was able to restore it with the help of her brother (Davy had wanted to be an engineer...and hard work paid off with a full-ride to Virginia). You hear that purr? Man....that engine kills... -- Yeah, yeah, brag all you want Y/N - just remember who gives you free ice cream...

“Remember sunscreen, girls,” Y/L/N advised while stepping from her car. El was grabbing the towel bag while Max was hauling the small white cooler with her to the front gate. “Okay, mom.” El giggled sassily (Max had quite the influence). Y/N tsked, smiling at the brunette’s words,” That’s Ms. Mom to you, kid.”

The pool was more crowded than Y/N originally planned. She didn’t think this many people would be here - and yet, it was a hot summer day in Hawkins...she guessed Starcourt didn’t have everything after all. Her y/c/e eyes scanned the commotion as she looked for a free table or a place to at least sit.

Bingo.

“Okay - I’m gonna grab those chairs over there before someone else does. You guys go ahead in, I’ll be fine.” Max looked skeptically at Y/N - the cooler, their towel bag, and their other belongings circling the sitter.

“You sure...I can take that,” Mayfield told, El nodding in agreement already reaching for the towel bag again.

Y/N rolled her eyes softly,” You think I can’t carry a few bags? Go on, you’ll shrivel up in this heat otherwise.” With that, the girls left (but not before being tossed a bottle of sunscreen and being ordered to put it on).

“Need some help, princess?” Y/N spun on her heels, grinning widely at the familiar voice. Talking all night...she’d hope to remember the sound of Billy Hargrove. And hot damn...did he make a simple uniform work.

His swim trunks were loosely hanging on his hips, leaving him waist up exposed to the sun and already glistening with a light sweat. His hair was styled effortlessly (perfect as ever...show off), his sunglasses pushed over his eyes; hiding their pretty blue coloring. He had a whistle hanging idly from his neck, and his arms were crossed over his chest, his biceps flexing unintentionally. Good God...

“Hey, Mister Lifeguard - funny seeing you here,” she teased while tugging her eyes to meet his. Blaming the flush of her face, on the heat (and not the shameless staring). He only offered a small smirk, snatching the cooler and bulk of the items; leaving Y/N with the towels. Easily, the lightest of the baggage. Y/N watched as Billy took off, a few steps ahead with his long strides, leaving her to catch up (mind you, a quick glance to his behind and she was satisfied...it wasn’t her fault his shorts were a little tight...tastefully).

Billy placed the cooler down at the pool chairs she’d pointed out, liking how close they were to the lifeguard tower (his shift was starting soon and it would be an easy excuse to talk to Y/N. Besides yelling at shitheads for being shitheads - she’d prove to be worthy entertainment). “Here you go, Your Highness,” he mocked while setting the bags down, placing a hand on his hip afterward (he was smacking on some gum and Y/N was inclined to ask the flavor - a hint of cinnamon was wavering from his speech).

“Thanks, Hargrove,” she paused remembering his jacket. “Oh! I have--,” “Hold on to it for me. My shift starts soon and I don’t feel like walking all the way back to the locker room right now.” Lifting his shoulders slightly as if say oh well. Behind hidden eyes, he examined her choice of clothing for the day - glad he was wearing his shades...

A too-big T-shirt was complimenting her figure; he grinned at the word Metallica across the front (he had a T-shirt just like it at home, though he never wore it...the odd sensation of someone else wearing it struck his heart down). She had a pair of cheap flipflops on, and her sunnies were propped to sit on her head. He wondered what bathing suit she had reserved - mentally scolding himself for caring about such a thing. Though it wasn’t like it’d make a difference, he could guess to see it soon enough...

“Oh, okay! It’ll be right here when you need it then,” she promised while jerking her head in the direction of the towel bag where she’d packed it at the bottom. She then rubbed her chin, as if thinking. “I think...I’ll tan for a bit, you know - that summer glow.” Even such a casual, artless phrase had him grinning like a fool because he liked the way she had a humble half-grin find her lips, her eyebrows perfectly manicured and wiggling with emphasis.

Billy liked the way Y/N held herself; her shoulders square and confident. She talked to him like he was a normal person and he...he liked that. “Whatever you do, I don’t want to see you running on my deck,” Billy noted, a fake authority taking his voice a bit lower. She rolled her pretty y/c/e eyes at him, ignoring the thrashing in her chest.

“Yes, sir! I wouldn’t dare run on you’re shift,” Y/N faked a gasp and laughed. Billy was about to turn away, satisfied with the smile he’d managed to get from her; when she stopped him. A hand to his naked shoulder and Y/N had his full attention once more. More attentive than he’d ever really been with anyone. It made his stomach churn at the thought of how her simple touch had made his head spin.

She reached down, popping the cooler open to reveal sodapop and sandwiches (a few other snacks too - Y/N had decided to pack healthy...what? -- Her ducklings had to eat good!). “I, uh...made you lunch. I dunno if you’re hungry now...or if you’ll even want it - but...I did anyway,” she told while stumbling slightly to the conclusion, a smile never leaving her pink lips.

“Thanks, princess. I’ll come get it later,” Billy thanked while offering a faint grin. It was thoughtful of her to be so sincere - even if it was such a small act of kindness...Billy wasn’t quite used to such kindness, to begin with.

He was used to doing everything for himself and by himself. He didn’t mind. No, he’d gotten used to being the only one to look out for himself and Max when she needed it. Life was cruel like that. Yet, seeing how Y/N had listened to his dumb stories for an entire night, bothered taking care of his step-sister, volunteering to take him in for the night, betting to show him the prettiest sunset, and now making him lunch...? Billy wasn’t sure what she was exactly, but he’d say Y/N wasn’t far from an angel.

“Sounds good! - I remember you saying something about not liking cheddar, so I made sure that all the sandwiches had american cheese! Just in case you wanted a turkey or ham, or--,” he chuckled, nodding his head, hands coming up to stop her gently. “I get it, dollface. You made a lot of sandwiches.”

After that, their conversation came to a comfortable close and Billy walked (more like strutted) to his post. Y/N caught his gaze, fake gagging and raising an eyebrow at him when he’d blatantly allowed (and flirted back) with the older women. ‘You’re gross’, she’d mouthed to him from his lifeguard tower a short walk away. Billy only shrugged. ‘I’m irresistible’.

El and Max were sitting by the steps in the shallow end - they were talking from what Y/N could tell, and she waved at them when El lifted her hand; as if saying hey, we’re okay. From there, Y/N decided to just...relax.

She pulled her cover-up off (it had been one of Davy’s old shirts; Metallica had been one of his favorite bands, rubbing off on Y/N in the process. Besides, it reminded her of him). Underneath, was a black and white, polka-dotted one-piece. The cut was interesting, a new style that she’d seen while passing by in one of the mall’s shops; the middle was left out following the length of her stomach, and back. It was sure to leave an odd tan-line...but that’s what made it so compelling.

If only she’d realized the piercing heat was not the sun, but a pair of shaded blue eyes. Billy couldn’t help himself if where Y/N sat happened to be across from his view. He thought she looked drop-dead in that suit. Billy Hargrove didn’t blush, and if he didn’t have to sit in the fever of a day; yelling at some moron kid to stop running...he might’ve just done so. Lucky him.

She’d been laying out for some time, guilty of falling asleep while soaking in the warmth of the sun. Y/N had only been stirred from her sleep to hear the happy laughter of El and Max closing in on her. Sitting up to flip over, she yawned lightly; only earning a grin from the girls. Y/N was applying more sunscreen as she chatted,” You girls hungry? Food’s in the cooler,” she gave it a light kick, the slosh of ice and cold water confirming truth.

“Billy’s being weird,” Max stated while taking out a turkey and cheese sandwich. Y/N snorted, leaning back and closing her eyes as she answered the step-sister,” Is that new to you? Hargrove has always--” “No, I mean - like...he’s staring at you.” Peeping up, Y/N could honestly not agree nor disagree...his sunglasses were the perfect sanctuary. His body language not giving anything away either. He was slouched with his head thrown back, arms slung over his chair.

Y/N clicked her tongue, her own arms moving to prop her head up. “How do you know? He’s got those shades on - can’t see a thing.” El was biting into some carrots Y/N had brought and she surprised the sitter with an answer so...forward.

“It’s because we know he likes you,--,” an elbow to the side from Max, but El didn’t seem to mind,”--he hasn’t moved from that spot.”

It was suddenly very hot and Y/N wasn’t sure sunbathing was ideal...God, she felt like she were in the sauna...her face getting the worst of it for sure. Was it a sunburn? Maybe...

“I...I’m gonna take a dip in the water,” she mumbled while leaving a knowing pair behind, trying to ignore the realized pair of eyes following her (maybe the shades couldn’t hide everything...).

Stepping into the water, Y/N let a soft hum of leisure. The high contrast of cold water and hot skin left her muscles easing with each step deeper. Eventually, she was waist deep and Y/N stifled her amusement as Billy called for an adult swim. Essentially, anyone under the age of eighteen was to be out of the pool. Y/N was reminded of why Billy liked this job - he’d told her last night, in fact, she’d been the one to bring it up.

Well, I get to be half-naked - so that’s a nice plus. Those shitbirds who like running around won’t under my watch, and I like how easy my job is. Lots of pretty girls to keep an eye on. -- You’re supposed to be watching out for someone...I dunno...drowning! Not your next date! -- I can multitask, sweetheart. That accomplished a laugh from her, and she remembered seeing this slacken look to his handsome features. And dare she say, tranquility had never looked so good.

You saying you don’t like kids, Hargrove? He’d answered with a shrug and They’re tolerable. I don’t like shits who don’t listen to me. Y/N remembered thinking of how ironic that was - considering Billy was the epidemy of I don’t care what you say, I run this show my way attitude.

Do you ever want kids when you grow up, Billy? She had asked him that and he’d choked on the Coke she’d given him. It took him some time to figure out how to answer Y/N. His eyebrows had furrowed in thought and he’d fidgeted with his rings, his lip stuck between his teeth.

Billy never thought he’d ever be a good father. He didn’t think he’d be able to provide for a family...he wasn’t smart enough to hold a good job (school had never been his thing. He couldn’t sit still through a lecture to save his life; he was lucky to have even graduated). He wasn’t sure he could raise a child...right. What if they needed advice? Could he give it? What if they needed money? Did he have it? What...what if they needed a father...would he be it?

I...I dunno. Kids are a lot of work. He’d told her after a few moments of shared silence. Yeah...they are - but I watch six of them and I’m not paid - really seven if you count Harrington. She had laughed softly, and without her knowing, Billy’s whole heart was listening as she spoke. I guess they just made me realize how much I’d like to have that when I’m older...you know. A family.

Billy had never really thought about it before. His father had not been the best role model, and he’d lost his mother long ago. Leaving him with a blank space for a solid female figure... He didn’t think he was apt to have...anyone. Yet, she made him think. She made his mind spin and his heart race and he wondered if he’d really be a good father...a better one than his own, that’s for damn sure. He liked talking to her.

From his spot on the lifeguard tower, he could see everything - the dumbasses who thought he couldn’t see, the middle-aged mothers eyeing him up like he couldn’t see, and even the pretty y/c/h haired girl wadding into the water, being the only person he wanted to see.

The pool wasn’t so crowded now, the adult swim having kicked all the kids to sit on the side; watching with pouts and an itch to get back in. El and Max were sitting in their lounge chairs; talking about Lord knows what - and Y/N waved to them, holding an ‘L’ to her forehead (seeing as they’d not be allowed back in for another twenty minutes or so).

“Why don’t you swim over here, princess?” Y/N rolled her eyes, scoffing at Billy’s playful tone. It seemed in public he was much more flirty than when he was sitting in a small cabin in the woods, sipping on a pop, only a few feet away from her. His reputation much be daunting to uphold.

“I think I’m fine over here, Hargrove,” she snickered while swimming in the opposite direction, floating halfway on her back. She could make out his mischevious smirk; God did she want to smack it off his lips...

The banter continued for a little while longer until Billy had to call for kid’s swim...a chorus of cheers, laughter, and splashing followed. Y/N forced from her lazy swimming to rest her back to the poolside; watching the slow chaos unfold.

“U-Uh, hi.” She turned her head, wiping a few limp y/c/h strands from her face to see a boy roughly her age - maybe a year or so younger - standing awkwardly on the concrete a few steps away. “Hello,” she offered with a small smile, looking up to him. Y/N wasn’t an idiot, she could see his friends standing off to the side near a table she assumed they’d been sitting at...their unsophisticated glances weren’t hard to miss.

He had a pair of blue swim trunks on and his dark hair and eyes complimented the color sweetly. “I-I’m Johnny,” he mumbled while rubbing his sunburnt neck. Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that rose from her throat. He was clearly still in high school - his friends had clearly set him up to this, and he was just an adorable mess. Of course, she’d never take an interest - a particular blond had her eyes...

“Y/N,” she answered easily. “Your friends send you over here?” She mused while shooting a pointed look to the group of teenagers. Being caught, they played cool worse than Steve. She stifled her amusement, looking back to Johnny.

He was blushing, though, Y/N could be mistaken - the red misleading her to think it was embarrassment and not the punishment of skin without proper sun protection (this was why she had her ducklings put it in! No lobsters allowed in her house...).

“U-Um, kinda...I-I just think y-you’re really...pretty.” He looked as if he wanted to kick himself.

“Aw, shucks - that’s sweet of you,” Y/N was honestly surprised by the slight attention. She’d never pegged herself for anything special...she hadn’t held a title like Hargrove or Harrington in high school. If anything...it was flattering to hear such a thing.

“Tell you what Johnny - how about I give you my friend’s number?” Shocking the dark-haired boy, yet keeping his attention - curiously he stayed quiet.

Y/N pulled herself up onto the ledge, water dripping around her figure as she slipped from the water. The concrete stained dark as she stood beside him - perfect replicas of her footprints following her back to her chair. He followed stupidly after realizing he was to follow her. Though, he wasn’t the only one trailing...blue eyes had never been so focused.

“Here - her...name’s...Wilma,” Y/N informed while digging through one of the bags to find something to write with. Luckily, she found a pen in her purse and turned on her heels to face Johnny, a smile on her lips.

She grabbed his wrist gently and wrote down the girl’s number on his forearm. He gave her a look that read confused, and Y/N opened her mouth to explain.

“You’re what...a Junior...in high school?” He nodded. “So is she. Nice girl, very pretty, and quite funny.” Y/N detailed a picture for him.

“W-Why’re you telling me this?” He asked with his eyebrows pulled together, face flushed pink.

Y/N offered a half-smile and patted his shoulder, spinning the pen between her fingers. “You’re a little young for me, sorry. Besides, I think you’d like her better than me.” Looking behind Johnny, she caught the sharp gaze of a particular lifeguard...

“I...uh, also kinda have my eyes on someone else...sorry, Johnny,” Y/N apologized. “Give her a call. Dinner and a movie is a nice first date.”

After a kind farewell, he left to his friends. Leaving Y/N standing with her things, laughing to herself as she hugged her bare middle. She grabbed a green towel from the bag and began drying her hair.

A loud cheer caught her notice, her eyes drew up to see Johnny being slapped on the back - his friends being rowdy and enthusiastic. She watched in amusement - when a stinging blow of a whistle had her head snap to the side. Billy was down from his chair, his glistening figure like a god on earth as he strode over to the group of boys.

She wasn’t the only one to stare as he passed - he had a crowd of women eyeing him in his pursuit. His looked...tense. His jaw was clenched, leaving a very clear cut imprint of his jawbone. His sunglasses were off, leaving blue eyes that could burn holes through steel, and his body stature was leering as he moved. Waves were crashing off his toned body and Billy screamed danger...

She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but soon enough - the group of younger boys were quickly making their way out of the gated area. Y/N thought for a moment, before realizing Billy had kicked them out.

“Woah...overreacting much?” Max’s snort was heard and Y/N turned to see her and El now wrapped in towels, their hair damp from being in the water.

Y/N just rolled her eyes, laughing as she realized the situation. Had Billy thought they’d given her a hard time? She wasn’t sure.

“He’s just...being Billy,” the sitter hummed. Max only nodded her head slowly, eyebrows raised as she mulled over Billy’s public envy.

“Jealousy is a thing, you know,” Mayfield stated while giving Y/N that look. “Billy? Jealous?” the y/c/h haired girl only shook her head in disagreement.

“He likes you,” El said without even flinching. They were...wrong...right? Billy Hargrove was the king of players. A wildcard with no remorse nor sentiment for the hearts he stepped on. A guy as confident as Billy didn’t get...jealous...and yet, the echoes of laughter from a boy she’d come to like hazed her mind. Last night...Billy wasn’t the Billy Hargrove...he was just...Billy.

 “Can you take us to Wheeler’s house? I just got off the phone with Lucas,” the redhead then asked while referring back to the phone call Heather had gotten (calling Max and El over saying some kid named Lucas, says he wants to talk to Billy’s step-sister).

“Sure, let me get everything packed up - and I’ll take you.” Y/N notified while resting the towel around her neck. Pushing the thought of such a thing as...jealousy...from her vision.

Billy watched as Y/N and the girls packed up. Were they leaving? Why? -- It’d only been two hours in...sure, it was a decent amount of time spent at the pool...but...it was a nice day... the sun was out...Y/N hadn’t mentioned having anything to do later today while they chatted last night.

Heather came over to release him for his break, and he took the chance to catch the girls before they left.

“Hey - where you off to, Y/L/N?” Turning to face him, she offered a smile. “Hey, Billy - Max, and El want to hang out with the boys - so I’m gonna drive them over quick,” Y/N explained while placing the cooler back to the ground. Eleven and Max had already gotten the other belongings, leaving Y/N to find the car on her own.

“Oh,” Billy sounded while feeling a bit dumb now. He probably looked like an idiot...droning after her like the kids he’d just gotten rid of. “You comin’ back later, or? My shift ends at eight,” he paused realizing what it sounded like (desperate...that’s what he pinned it down as),” I mean - so I know when to come get Max.”

Y/N only nodded, her eyes revealing how unconvinced she was. “Mhm, I might be back. Depends on what the girls want.” The image of a leather coat drowning her in Aramis cologne hazed her sight. “Oh! I’ll have to give you the jacket later, sorry. El took it to the car when she carried off the towels.” She excused.

“I’m not in any rush. Just another reason to see you again,” adding a wink to that and she sighed lightly, shaking her head in the process. “Speaking of rush - you had those boys hightail out of here pretty fast...they break a rule, Mister Lifeguard?” She drawled while toying with a smirk. It was Billy’s turn to feel as embarrassed as Johnny had...

“They break rules all the time,” he declared,” They were being too loud for my taste today.” Y/N only gave an mhmm sure, as an answer. “Well, they’re waiting for me,” the y/s/c skinned girl told while lifting the cooler by its red handle. “I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded, watching her start off - the words out before he could stop them.

“I didn’t like him.” Y/N paused. She cranked her neck to look at him, sporting a small smile and a confused look. “Sorry? What was that, Hargrove?”

He internally groaned, his usual suave character finding its way out the door and seemingly never to come back...wonderful. “I mean - that kid, the one you...you gave...your number to...I...uh, don’t like him.” What a lovely display of words, Hargrove - he sounded lame, stumbling over himself like some loser...

“You mean Johnny?” There was a flash of something in Y/N’s eyes. Something vexatious, something that sparked a chill up his spine. He could only contribute a curt nod. She brought a hand to her face, tapping her cheek lightly. “He was kinda cute, no?” Billy couldn’t even render the whimsical tone, all he could see was a sea of red and a wave of bitterness took him by storm.

“Him? He’s like...sixteen - not even considered a man,” he scoffed,” Probably never even been laid before (she’d cut in with a Billy! but he ignored her, carrying on). I bet he only got the gall to ask you because his friends called him a pus--,” “I didn’t give him my number.” The simple sentence had his words die out like a fire without oxygen. His blue eyes swirled with awareness and feelings he couldn’t place.

“W-What?” Billy was only able to produce the lone word as his head drew blanks. Y/N sighed, turning to face him, raising the white cooler to rest on her hip. “I didn’t give him my number.” In Billy’s silence, he could only offer a low sigh of relief.

“I’ll see you later Billy,” her tone was amused, yet smooth as she turned on her heels. Leaving Hargrove starstruck and obviously appalled at his own actions. “Oh, and Billy?” Y/N spoke while walking backward, to face him. Blue meeting y/c/e.

“You’re so lucky your uniform is red,” Y/N snickered. Billy only returned a twisted expression.

“I mean...Green...is an ugly color on you, don’t you agree, Hargrove?” With that, the y/c/h haired dame was sashaying off with a swing of her hips that had Billy flounder to catch his breath.

With Y/N gone, he could think more clearly; pulling himself together like the man he was. He was behind the counter by the main entrance - taking desk duty while the other staff members worked in the blaze of the afternoon. Billy was leaned back in his chair, his feet kicked up on the table as he waited a few people signing in, confirming their stay at the community pool.

It was evident his rash behavior of tossing the teenagers out had drawn attention to him. Y/N wasn’t blind, and maybe he’d forgotten that...his own blind irritation had found his way to his head before he knew what he was doing.

Billy really couldn’t express why he’d done it - other than he didn’t like that this kid - Johnny - had attempted getting cozy with a girl he didn’t know...

He didn’t know that she liked the color yellow (after previously having a distaste for it) because it reminded her of happiness. Johnny didn’t know that Y/N took her coffee with two spoonfuls of sugar and milk until the drink turned tan. Or what about her desire for a secret tattoo? - Either on her hip or shoulder...she hadn’t decided on a pattern or drawing exactly, but she knew she wanted it to have meaning. Maybe a reminder of something I love - you know?

Johnny had no clue...no fucking clue...that Y/N had always wanted to just...touch the ocean. Stand in the saltwater and listen to the beach whisper secrets of the coast. He didn’t know that if you looked close, in her eyes, the world was reflected magnificently...like stained glass. Beautiful, y/c/e stained glass...

Billy was sure that Johnny didn’t see anything except a pretty face. Hargrove gave him that, but...how could Johnny even think himself...worthy...of someone like Y/N? No, Billy knew that some kid wasn’t good enough for her.

He wasn’t sure where this was coming from... He was too easily excited by her presence, too easily drawn to her light, too observant with her being. It was a bit scary...he didn’t quite understand it. Everything was happening so fast - and yet, Billy had always liked...fast. This time though, there was a part of him that just wanted to stop altogether. Hold the moment with her in thin air...forever.

He sounded like some sappy loser...maybe something Harrington would say, but...God...now Billy too? He wanted to puke, which wasn’t far from the truth - he found that she made his insides do flips and his head spin like hell...it had to be some kind of disease...a chronic illness, maybe. Maybe Billy was dying.

Yet, that couldn’t explain why he felt so alive in the short time he’d known her.

“See ya tomorrow, Billy.” He only invested a grunt to Holloway passing by with her ride home (a girl that Billy didn’t know the name of, and for the first time ever - wasn’t interested in knowing).

He was riddled with the task of locking up and securing the pool before he left. Closing, put more simply - he had gotten stuck with closing. Billy was swinging his lanyard on his pointer and middle finger as he walked around the edge of the pool. He was following the fence line back to the open-aired lobby (he just locked one of the back gates, and all he needed to do now, was secure the locker rooms and he was free for the night).

Y/N hadn’t shown up, maybe she’d gotten caught up with babysitting, or honestly...forgot to come back. Not that she had to - Billy would’ve simply liked her company, is all. He was bolting the front gate - the keys on the company-owned carabiner - being pushed into his pocket.

He had pulled on a top, a simple white T-shirt, nothing special, and a pair of beige flipflops embellished his feet. The sun was close to setting and as he walked to the parking lot, his dufflebag thrown over his right shoulder - he was confounded to see someone leaning on his Camaro.

Y/N was by the driver’s side of the car, a familiar jacket slung over her left shoulder, her head down as she rummaged through the white cooler she’d had before.

“What’re you doing here, princess?” Billy asked while walking over, his skin a soft orange-red from the last rays of day. His blond hair was ignited gold; blue eyes outstandingly gorgeous. She couldn’t breathe...

Y/N had decided to come back, she didn’t think it fair for Billy to have to drive all the way to her house after a long shift too - just to pick something up she was reckoned to have already given him.

So after taking El home, and dropping Max off at her own house (figuring it was the least she could do - Billy did it all the time and she figured he’d like a break from playing taxi driver); Y/N drove back to the pool, hoping to catch Hargrove before he left. Pleased to see his infamous midnight blue Camaro being the only vehicle in the lot (she’d just caught him it seemed).

“Oh, I uh, thought you’d want your jacket back,” she told while glancing up - not even apprehending his approach, though unstartled by his sudden appearance. She lifted it off her shoulder and held it out for him, their hands briefly brushing.

Billy nodded, glancing down to the cooler she was still hanging on to. He raised a dark brow and balanced himself to sit on the hood of his car.

“You still luggin’ that thing around?” He asked with a soft look to his usually hard, cold characteristics. She liked the way the sun accented his best features (which was all of them), it gave him a youth she hadn’t seen before.

Her gaze followed his until she discerned what he was insinuating. She quickly shook her head and moved to sit next to him on the hood. “Here - I assumed you didn’t eat today - so I brought you that sandwich I promised.”

Billy thanked her as she handed him a BLT with american cheese, cracking a Coke for him too. “When did you do this?” He asked while pulling the sandwich to his lips.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d want the ones I made earlier - they’d been sitting for a few hours and so after dropping the girls off, I just went back home - slapped this together, and then came here,” Y/N shrugged as if it were nothing. Not to Billy, though. As he’d noted before...kindness like this...had never come easy to him...he didn’t recall it coming at all.

“You didn’t have to,” he mumbled, a mouthful of bread, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and cheese somewhat hindering his speech. Y/N gave a short laugh, leaning back on one hand as she pulled her own BLT to her mouth.

“Don’t mention it, I felt like it,” she responded,” Take it as a thank you for letting me talk your ear off last night.” Billy only shook his head, swallowing his mouthful and pausing for a sip of pop.

They talked until the sun was just beginning to sink over the horizon for its last glimpse of triumph before nightfall. Overhead, the sky was already painted in a soft lull of blue; the outlines of stars and constellations hinting that night was only minutes away. Stretched out before them, if they looked forward, they’d find an empty parking lot, save for two (well cared for) cars; parked side by side. Soaking in the symphony of the sun’s last wishes, till the morrow; sat Billy and Y/N.

Time stalling around them as the only thing on their minds was what else can I tell her/him? What else will he/she tell me? It was like a dance. Elegant and graceful, the sun painting the scene for them more vividly and brilliantly than they could have asked for. Their words being the dancers. Asking one another to take to the red sky, echoing footsteps of their past as they reminisced and discussed.

Billy had never been too good at dancing - but he found it came easy to him with Y/N as his partner. The best part? They didn’t need any music. Their hearts supplied the rhythm, and all they had to do was follow.

“Why’re you so nice?” The question was hovering in the air for a few heartbeats. As if Y/N didn’t know how to answer it. After drumming her fingers on the surface of the Camaro she replied,” Well...I just think it’s the right thing to do. I dunno...why? Am I being too nice to you, Hargrove?” She pressed with a smile.

Billy chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing his neck. “No, you’re just the right amount of nice...I’m just surprised that...it’s me you’re so nice to.”

“Whaddya mean?” Y/N asked turning to face him fully; her can of soda resting between her knees. Billy had one leg grounded, the other was bent to rest him halfway on the car hood. If he hadn’t had a definite hold on solid ground - he was sure he’d have fallen. The glaze of gold on her skin, the distinguished look in her eyes...her unfeigned smile...He was so damn lucky...

“Well,” he stated,” I’m Billy Hargrove. People being nice to me means they’re either scared of me or want something from me.” Clearing his throat, it felt strange saying such a thing out loud...like finally confronting an elephant in the room and finding out that said elephant had been known all along...

Y/N pulled at the hem of her shirt, considering his words as she examined the sewn edges. “To start off, Billy,” she spoke while placing her hands to rest in her lap, her legs crisscrossed atop the Camaro’s dark hood. “I’m not scared of you.”

“I also don’t want anything from you,” Y/N added, playing with the sleeves of Hargrove’s leather jacket, rested across her lap (she’d ended up in the possession of it again; he’d insisted if they were going to sit out here and talk - she’d need it, lest she get cold. She had called him a gentleman and he’d only laughed, saying I just know you’re gonna ask for it later - so I decided I’d get it out of the way now). Billy could only watch. His left hand swirling the contents of his half-empty can clockwise.

“Actually - I do want one thing from you,” Y/N admitted, drawing Billy’s blue eyes to meet her y/c/e eyes. “And what’s that?” He asked with a calm temper, leaning in hardly a few inches, his arms pressing into his right leg as he did so. She wondered if he knew what he was doing to her...unbeknownst to her, he was thinking the same thing.

Y/N took a short inhale, trying to contain the sudden shock of closeness between them. Don’t freak out....don’t freak out...don’t freak out...it was just Billy. And yet, saying that; didn’t help her either.

“I want you to be natural with me,” she breathed.

Billy looked to her and he couldn’t help the way his lips curled, similar to the effect she’d had on him that morning during their phone call...save for the fact that he found her captivating state much more intoxicating in person. 

“Natural?” He questioned searchingly.

“Y-Yeah...I mean,” she coughed awkwardly, hoping the disappearing sun would make her red blush unnoticeable. “All these...rumors...about you,” Y/N explained slowly, recalling that he’d mentioned rumors when she’d called him earlier that day,” I-I don’t want to take them as the t-truth...you know? Like, I want to be the judge of that for myself.”

Billy could only flash that genuine kind of smile that Y/N didn’t know he never showed to anyone but her. He was amazed to hear that she remembered the words he’d said that morning; not only that...but she’d rephrased them, branding them as her own.

“A-And the only way for me to...judge you fairly...is for you to be...yourself,” she finished almost inaudibly, her eyes finding the ground to be quite lovely (Billy thought her sudden loss of confidence only added to her charm). A calloused hand meeting her chin pulled all her attention to the man before her; her heart sounding off like a siren.

“Is that so, princess?” His voice was like velvet, sliding off his tongue like the finest silk - Y/N wanted to faint, but she didn’t - knowing that if she did, she’d ruin the picture-perfect moment unfolding between them.

“S-So, if it’s okay with you...the one thing I want from...Billy Hargrove...is to know him,” she reiterated,” Really know him.” She exhaled slowly.

“I want to be the one to know Billy Hargrove.” And that’s all it took.

A simple sentence was spoken in front of a simple sunset. Except, it wasn’t a simple sunset. Sure, it wasn’t a California sunset by the oceanside, sand between his toes, salt in his lungs, wind in his hair. No...it was so much more...

The feeling of her lips on his outdid any crashing wave. The smell of her shampoo drove him crazier than the scent of wide ocean blue. The peals of her laughter that followed after the tender kiss...so much better than howling wind. And sitting on the hood of his Camaro, empty Coke can placed beside him, his arms enveloping a girl he didn’t know much about - but knew enough to know her for a lifetime...knowing her enough to want to know more, to crave more - a dying sun sketching the surrounding downtown of Hawkins, Indiana...colors of grey, black, red, orange, gold, blue, and white...God...her y/c/e eyes reflecting something he’d never seen before.

Something Billy knew he’d never find in a Cali sunset. The reflection of such life, such passion...the twinkle of the stars born from the death of day and creation of night - all just hiding in her eyes. He’d never seen something so damn beautiful.

Because no California sunset could ever care about him like she did. Asking him his favorite drink, or what his favorite color was. No California sunset could treat him with such warmth; showing him that rough edges didn’t have to always cut and push people away. No California sunset could show him a brighter future than the one unfolding before him.

He’d never wanted to know someone like this. Billy had never wanted to know anyone at all past their face. Y/N was the only exception. 

And like a book, a book that you loved - he’d read it over and over and over again. Reciting what he could remember by heart - carefully turning the pages when he realized he’d missed a chapter. Billy would never understand how he’d found such a story...with golden lettering and a pretty font...but, God was he happy he did. There was no other story he’d rather read, and Billy didn’t like reading all that much - but he’d reread her story over and over and over...just for the heck of it.

“I-I know I promised you a perfect sunset,” her voice cracked through his dazed mind, and yet, he could still only see her. The fierce lighting of the last few minutes of day kindling a flame in his chest as he watched Y/N. She was tucked under his right arm and her head was pulled under his chin, his hand rubbing patterns along her shoulder.

“But... the truth is...I dunno if I can give you one,” she mumbled, finding comfort in his hypnotizing smell. “I-I mean, we’re just sitting on your car in an old parking lot...I can see the general store from here and i-it’s...nothing special--,” Billy stopped her there, squeezing her to his side.

“You crazy, Y/N?” he licked his lips, the weak linger of sugary sodapop on them from their kiss. “I promise you, sweetheart, I promise you - there’s no California sunset like this.” He chuckled pulling her back to lay on the windshield with him, the stars just waking up.

“Sunsets like these - they don’t exist back home,” he whispered, pulling her face closer to his. Finding that despite where he was, the sun always set the same way...

It was the beauty within it, that was hard to maintain. Sunsets could only be so pretty with a memory, a feeling, a drive; attached to it. Hawkins’ had never had that for Billy. Not until now...not until he’d found his new reason to love them. The beauty within them was eclipsed by the girl in his arms...and yet, it only made it better.

Because Billy knew, no matter what happened, sunsets back home could never compare with the ones he’d be spending with Y/N.

“It’s your turn.”

Billy chuckled. “For?”

“You promised to take me to the beach, Hargrove.”

“One step at a time, darling...we could even watch the sunset there too...together.”

-

a/n footer: Gaaahhhhhh, I thought that was awfully heartwarming to write...I always thought Hargrove deserved his happy ending, his golden sunset... How was that? >.<

Also, sorry about being gone yesterday - the power went out in my area and WiFi was a no go, I sincerely apologize! ;-;

Like I promised, I’m posting two pieces today, so stay tuned for a little later...<3

I’m also starting that Billy miniseries so....yay! I have another one in mind for Steve too so double yay!

Tagged List: @novaddictx @mairalynn416 @wefracturedmotivation@truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @savingprivatecass @emmalbg @timeladygallifrey@the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @billyhargrovescigarette @krystalane@truthdaze @neverlandsoundsgood @friendlyneighbourhoodmercenary@imarockstar145 @foryoubarnes @winchestergirl907@anniethepanda @gwenebear @lavenderluvs @werdenkt @emmalbg @jojo-buttercup @noodlenerd101@jaidynspaghetti @lainternettuale @siwiecola @falling-solar-system @its-moonblr @saturno007 @xelliethepenguinx @ccidk

But not tonight, he mentioned something about a date (which was code for one-night stand). I’ll be back, kid. Is what he’d told her, stopping by her room on his way out, leaning on her doorframe (like the ‘cool kid he was’, or as she said ‘like the fingerprint leaving asshole he was’). She’d frowned. Where are you going? Billy rolled his eyes, scratching his neck as he lazily watched her from across the way. I got a date. Sighing, she waved him off with a scrunched up nose. That’s fucking disgusting - ew, no! Billy don’t wiggle your eyebrows...get out - get out! Goodbye, Billy! He only laughed, saluting her before he continued down the hall. The thud of the front door and the piercing rev of his engine marking his departure.

She wanted to catch a movie - Back To The Future had come out and she was itching to see it...Y/N supposed she could wait another time. For now, she judged the too-skinny, too-perfect figures and welcomed her radio as a white-noise. Maybe she’d give Steve a call...was he babysitting tonight?

Her door was abruptly slammed open, giving her a heart attack on the spot - her hands fumbling with the booklet. Her y/c/e eyes snapped up, her body shocked rigid as she spotted Neil. Letting out a slow breath, she sat up, Vogue in hand as she fidgeted with the pages.

“You need something, sir?” She asked, remembering Billy who constantly told her to always stay calm, be relaxed, and act as civil as possible (even if he didn’t listen to his own advice...always being arrogant, sarcastic, and short with the man their father was...Do as I say, kid, not as I do).

Neil scanned her room as if searching for an imperfection to bring to light. Y/N only waited in a choked buzz of Bowie’s Let’s Dance, thankful that there was something else sounding off other than her own heartbeat. The tension in the room was suffocating...absolutely terrifying. When he found none, he spoke (she could almost taste his disappointment).

“Me and Susan are going out. You and your brother are going to watch Max,” He was fixing his coat’s collar and Y/N bit her lip for a moment, tapping her pointer on the magazine’s cover.

Clearing her throat, Y/N grabbed his attention,” Billy’s not home.” It felt like playing a game of chicken in the streets...which car was going to pull away first? Or...would there be a brutal accident to deal with? Would one car be worse off than the other? Y/N wasn’t sure who was winning and who was losing, all she knew, was that this game was not fun.

“You’ll be watching Maxine then, got that?” Y/N nodded. Her father raised his eyebrows - waiting for a proper response. Her mouth felt dry. “Yes, sir.”

They were gone after Susan gave a soft wave passing by, her father not giving a second thought of her as he left. The door banging shut behind him. She could breathe again...how did Billy do this? He spoke more to Neil than she did, always taking the initiative into his own hands...time and time again.

Standing up, Y/N forced her legs to work with her after that soul shaker of an interaction. Walking down the hall to Max’s room, she knocked on the door with her right hand; four raps. When there was a heartbeat of silence she wondered if Max heard her. She tried again.

Silence.

“Hey, Riding Hood? You in there?” She asked, bouncing on the balls of her heels as she waited - wanting to finish the section of Tips & Tricks For Flawless Skin - maybe she and Steve could have a spa-day...He happened to like facemasks, believe it or not (but had an odd tendency of eating the cucumbers for your eyes...). The white door was never opened, so she sighed, turning the doorknob herself.

“Hey - Maxie, did you hear me?” Y/N’s words trailed off, crashing to the floor along with her heart. The room was empty. The only sign of recent inhabitance was the open window and the absence of a familiar skateboard...

Running a hand through her hair, Y/N exited the room - calling her little sister’s name as she briskly walked to the kitchen...to the living room...and back to Max’s.

Y/N could feel a creeping terror in her throat and she wondered where Max could’ve gone. Mike’s? El’s? The Byers’? She was back in her own bedroom - pacing the carpet swiftly. The radio had been turned off so she could think and she was listening to the rhythm of blood coursing through her veins like her favorite song.

She didn’t have a car...couldn’t afford it - besides, Billy always took her wherever she needed...Y/N hadn’t needed a car up until this point. Not even when she needed to sneak out...Steve had his own car...a simple park down the block and no one would know who she was with, and where. Saying that...this was bad.

It hadn’t been the first time Max left without as much as a trace... Most times, she was back before anyone knew she was gone...other times...Billy paid for it (He tried his best to keep Y/N’s skin as flawless as Vogue’s stupid lures...he’d joke even with a busted lip that she needed to keep her skin healthy...so she can show their asses up one day!).

But that was when it was the both of them watching her...Billy wasn’t here now, it was eight o’clock...he wouldn’t be back till later...her father would be back in two hours tops - leaving her only one-hundred-twenty minutes to find Mayfield.

She quickly crossed the bedroom - exiting, and walking to the living room. She picked up the house phone and dialed the Wheelers’ number. Y/N was nervously curling the cord around her thumb and index finger, biting her lip as her eyes subconsciously kept flickering to the front door. The other line was dead for some time...she wondered if anyone was home...maybe the kids were caught up playing DnD - but then wouldn’t Karen or Ted answer for them?

There was a slight pause, a seeming hiccup - and then a voice.

“Hello? Who’s calling?” Y/N sighed, thanking her stars.

“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler - I was wondering if Max was over, it’s Y/N.” she explained while listening intently (pretending Billy and her didn’t make fun of Karen for flirting with him at the pool...That’s gross, B! -- Yeah, but it’s so funny how easy it is, Y/N!).

“Max? - Oh, the little redhead! No - haven’t seen her-- have you seen my son, by chance?” Y/N sighed, realizing Karen was in a similar situation.

She quickly mumbled a no, I’m sorry, before hanging up and biting at the skin of her cheek. “No need to worry,” she told herself softly,” Call Hopper!”

Long story short, no one picked up. She assumed El was out - probably with the party, God knows where, and Jim was probably down at the station working... The last-ditch effort she had was the Byers’. As she began punching in their house number - she stopped - remembering their phone hadn’t been working for some time...something with the kids accidentally knocking it off the wall - all Y/N knew, was that Steve had warned them not to do it (That’s all you said to stop them, Steve? -- Welll...no...I said a few other things...-- You’re useless, Harrington!) - whatever it was - but they’d done it anyway and...now the Byers’ receiver didn’t work.

Glancing at the clock mounted on the wall entering the kitchen, she saw that she had roughly an hour and thirty-six minutes...that was enough time to walk to the Byers’ and back...right? Riding a bike was out of the question, she didn’t have one and she didn’t have time to just...go buy a brand new bike either...so walking it was.

Billy had always been a good brother. In his own way, he cared (even for Max, who claimed that Hargrove couldn’t give two shits about the air I breathe as long as it's not his). Billy would always look out for both his sisters - in ways they’d never notice. He was subtle like that.

Like the times he’d scare twerps off from bothering the party...it seemed that Hargrove could be rather intimidating - especially if you were a fourteen-year-old who liked to bully his step-sister and her nerdy buds.

Or when Billy would purposefully stay up late - knowing that Y/N was upset, or maybe something was wrong; waiting for her to come knocking on his door at eleven o’clock...asking if he was still awake...

Y/N had learned, through eighteen-years of knowing Billy, he’d always be there for them...no matter what. Support them through hardships, celebrate with them through victories, and holding their hands when they were scared. He may not...always show it...but...he was doing his best - and that’s all anyone ever asked for; could ever ask for.

Y/N had halfway ran, halfway walked to the Byers - tired beyond all hell when she got there, her calfs burning. Knocking on the door obnoxiously, she waited impatiently; how much time had passed? Twenty-five minutes? Thirty-five? She wasn’t sure. It couldn’t have taken long...right?

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang--

The door was yanked open. There stood Joyce, eyes wide and a clear confusion and worry crossing her features as she took in the girl in her doorway. It was just coming nine and she hadn’t been expecting anyone...certainly not Y/N Hargrove.

“Are you okay, sweetie? Do you need something?” The mother asked quickly.

Y/N shook her head, y/c/e eyes desperate as she tugged at her y/c/h locks. “M-Max, I’m looking for Max -- is she here?”

Joyce crossed her arms, shaking her head,” No, sweetie. She left a little while ago - said she was going home.” Thank, God...

“Why did so--,” “Oh, no, ma’am! Don’t worry! I-I was just...I was...I thought she was here...turns out - she’s not...and...and she’s at home.”

Y/N’s happiness slowly melted away as she realized Max was home...alone. Max was home alone.

“I’m s-sorry for bothering you, Joyce! But I can’t stay t-to talk! I-I need to go!”

Running home was not fun. It was not easy. It was not what Y/N wanted to be doing at nine o’clock on a Thursday night. She was sweaty, exhausted, and scared. Y/N was panted hard, her legs screaming, as her street now came into view - date night was always two hours...two hours...she could be home, and act like nothing ever happened...everything would be fine...until it wasn’t.

Her father’s car was parked out front. Slowing beside it, she felt tears well up in her eyes. How long had it been there? When did they get back? Was Max home? Did they realize Max was gone? Did he realize she was gone? Which she Y/N was referring to...Y/N didn’t even know herself...either way; she was still in trouble.

She’d never been so hesitant to open the front door - the porch light wasn’t on - so maybe they weren’t expecting anyone home...but...that was just Y/N trying to comfort her raging nerves. They knew Billy was out; even then, the light was off. Neil never turned it on - claiming it was a waste of money to have it burning all night.

Y/N opened the door. It was unlocked. Had she left it unlocked? She couldn’t remember. Her house keys were in her pockets, but that didn’t mean she necessarily used them in her haste to find Max...

The lights in the house were all off...a good sign...a very good sign (she’d shut them off when she left). That’s how she took the sign anyway. The door clicked shut with a soft sound, and she inched her way down the hall. She checked Max’s room...not having to open the door as she could make out the faint glow (of what she thought to be) Max’s desk lamp casting orange underneath the doorway. Then, Y/N walked past her closed room - to Billy’s...his door was wide open and was empty. It was only nine-forty-three (which she checked while walking back to her room - stopping in the kitchen) and the house was completely still.

She didn’t like how quiet it was...but...maybe that was a good thing.

But didn’t they say; good things never last long?

She turned her doorknob and pushed the opening to reveal her room. The lights were off, save for the tickle of silver moonlight from her window. Stretching a handout, she flicked her light switch on. Her hand shot up to her mouth as she muffled a scream of surprise.

Her father was seated on her bed. He didn’t look happy.

“I-I can e---,” “Max was home alone, Y/N.” his words dug into her, slow and menacing.

“I-I didn’t--,” “I thought I told you to watch her, Y/N?” She felt small...so, so small.

“I-I know, sir - and I-I w--,” “Then tell me, why did I come home, to find your little sister, home alone...” He was standing, and at this moment, Y/N wondered over and over (like every time this happened) how Billy did it.

She couldn’t sell Max out now...if she told him Max had snuck out - Neil might get angry at her...yet, Y/N knew he always blamed the sitter...even if this was the one exception - she wasn’t going to risk it. She’d cover for Max...because...that’s what Billy would do.

“I’m s-sorry, sir.” She whispered, the fear stopping her from crying out like she wanted to do. The fear tore at her, leaving Y/N helpless and stunned like a deer in headlights. Very harsh, powerful headlights.

Neil shook his head, wiping his hand over his face, dragging it along his chin as he watched the girl still frozen in the doorway. “Come here, Y/N.” Her body didn’t move, every sense in her telling her to run...run...run...

“Y/N. Come. Here.” Like a game of Simon Says, not wanting to lose - and the commanding word being Y/N...her feet drug her forward. She stood with an arm’s length between them...but that was all he needed.

Crack.

He’d struck her across the face, her head snapping to the side at the impact. She’d expected it...but...she never could prepare herself for it. She wished Billy was here, he’d know what to do...God, she wished Billy was here...

Her chin was seized roughly, Neil forcing her to look him in the eyes, his free hand clutching her wrist tightly. She bit her lip, trying not to look weak...not to give in.

“I thought we talked about this, Y/N...what did we talk about? What do I tell you and Billy all the time?” He hissed, his fingers digging bruises into her jaw and forearm.

Her eyes welled with tears and she was thankful for the dim lighting, saving her from looking the man in the eyes and seeing the monster that lived under her bed, that ran to her closet whenever she had Billy check for her as he’d done growing up...The monster always showed up when it was most unwanted...

She was thankful Neil couldn’t see her eyes. Y/N’s y/c/e eyes were filled with fear. Filled with anxiety and a stormy glaze that could only describe this; I knew this was coming...she left...but I won’t sell her secret to you...not the devil...no... If she’d learned one thing from her brother - it was that hell was never a pretty place to be...and sometimes, it was closer than you’d think...but despite that - you never made a deal with Lucifer.

“What did we talk about? Answer. Me.” Her arm was splintering in pain, his grasp so firm she wasn’t sure blood could find her fingertips anymore. She’d turn away from him, but he held her jaw so tensely she was scared to breathe.

The number of times their father will drill into them...Respect and responsibility. Until they learned that - until he was satisfied by it - then they could rest easy. But Y/N knew...she knew the devil never played fair. No matter what she did, or what she said - she’d never hold an ace hidden up her sleeve. Not like him.

“R-Respect. A-And responsibility,” she gritted out, her lips barely moving to produce the words. Panic, frustration, and hatred keeping her mouth locked in place.

Another strike to her face, her cheek stung and she could feel the making of a bruise find her nerve ends, but she refused to cry.

“Respect a-and responsibility, sir.” Y/N repeated while trying to pull away from her father.

“Don’t.” His hand holding hers whipped up and then down, throwing her to the floor with an immense thrust. Y/N moved to stand, but a sharp pain to her side had other plans.

It rained down like a hurricane and she could only wish for it to stop. Biting back her pain, she tried protecting her head and neck - Billy taught her that.

“We went over this, Y/N!” He yelled - fists, boots, and words flying as he gave into his anger. She wondered how much her body could take before she gave up. Billy would be strong...Good God...where was Billy?

From the moment she walked in, she could tell Neil had been drinking a little - his breath smelt of dead dreams and alcohol. She assumed it came with dinner...or, for his own enjoyment...it was hard to think while her body rippled with agony.

She tried zoning it out...all of it. The beating, her father, his words...she focused on her brother, Max being safe, the party, Steve...yeah...Harrington had taken her on a lovely date the other night - he’d taken her out to the cinema, and then they’d picked all the kids up for dinner...Y/N had ended up with milkshake on her shirt (thanks to Lucas and Dustin) and Steve had offered her his jacket...it was still a fond memory - the party was like a family to her...a better family she knew than her own kin to be...

She didn’t know when it stopped, or if it would never stop...all she could see were swimming images of whom she loved until she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Everything went numb...but...maybe it was better this way.

Billy had just gotten home. It was well past one and he knew for a fact, that Susan and Neil were asleep. They were never up this late - so he’d never have to worry about getting laid in on for being out at an hour like this.

His car parked outside, he entered the house as noiselessly as silence itself. He walked down the hallway hesitantly, but the faint sound of his father’s snoring was enough to ease him to walk normally.

“Y/N? You up?” He was standing at her door. It was cracked open, the lights off. That didn’t mean she was asleep - there had been plenty of times he’d find her awake, just sitting in the dark; listening to a soft hum of her stereo...except the radio had been turned off and the only noise was the lull of night muffled by the house.

He pushed the door open, the dim touch of moonlight having him squint to see her laying on the floor. Billy rolled his eyes. Dumbass probably fell asleep - had she been reading or something again? Nonetheless, he walked over, gently leaning down to pick her up.

She didn’t even react to his arms lifting her; Y/N felt like deadweight - but it didn’t bother him. She seemed tired. He was carefully walking her to the bed, making sure she wouldn’t stir - and she didn’t...and it was now that he questioned if she were a heavy sleeper or not...Billy couldn’t remember.

He settled her down, and when he moved to cover her with the comforter - he noticed something by her nose. It was like a dark line - a streak almost. Billy used the palm of his hand to rub it away. He leaned to the lamp on her nightstand, and when it clicked on, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t feel his heart in his chest anymore...

Black and blues littered her arms, her face was swollen and an ugly handprint was nestled on her right side, her nose was bleeding, her bottom lip was busted...he was sure if he lifted her shirt - he’d only be met with a terribly splotchy rendition of the night sky.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking hell,” he cursed, touching her shoulder gently - attempting to shake her awake. “Y/N? -- Kid? Wake up, c’mon -- it’s okay now...you’ll be okay now...it’s me...it’s Billy.”

She only groaned, a whimper escaping her at his touch - his hand jerking away like he’d encountered something hot. It seemed everything hurt...

“Y/N - please wake up, I...I need to know...what happened,” Billy knew what happened...but he needed to know how bad it was...she only moaned, a painful noise, swelled eyes not opening. He needed to know if he’d be sending a demon back to the gates of hell right now...he could live with murder...

Damnit. He slammed his hand to the headboard. His anger tickling his neck red as he thought horrible thoughts...he’d kill the bastard, he’d fucking kill him. Billy wanted to yell, he wanted to scream, but he also wanted to cry. Why’d he go out? For some stupid fuck? Why had he left her alone? Why had he left her alone? Why? Why? Why?

He’d left her...it was Thursday, for fuck's sake...it was supposed to be their night...and he’d ditched that for an easy hit and run... Billy felt like a fool. This was all his damn fault. If he’d been here, he could’ve helped her....he...he could’ve done something for her...anything...he’d have been taken the--

The low murmur of his name drew his attention, and he fell down to his knees - grabbing her hand softly in his own. He was shaking. “Y-Y/N -- it’s okay...it’s me...It’s Billy,” the blond repeated, pulling her hand up to touch his cheek, letting her know it was him; the warmth of his skin. His presence heavy as he watched her frail figure.

“H-How was your...d-date?” When she asked him that, Billy almost didn’t know what she was talking about. He shook his head and moved to pick her up - scared by the sounds of someone walking around the house.

“It was shitty,” he grumbled, easily carrying her out the door, out the house, and into his car. Her breathing was troubled - like it hurt to do so...and God, did it hurt BIlly to watch her in so much pain...

“Wh-What’s happening, B?” She asked softly, throat dry, head splitting with pain.

Billy didn’t answer her. Only held her hand as he drove...drove fast down the road.

Steve had been asleep. Why wouldn’t he be? It was one-thirty-one in the morning and it had been a Thursday night. He liked to have stayed up late, talking to his girlfriend on the phone - but Harrington knew Thursdays were reserved for Billy (even if Steve pouted...Y/N never traded those nights for anything). So, instead he figured he’d catch up on well-deserved rest - the kids had been dragging him around recently like a doll and he wasn’t sure how well his body was doing. He didn’t get paid enough - well, he didn’t get paid at all.

To be woken up by a brash hammering, he thought maybe it was just a dream...but then the sound of his name being called - along with Harrington! Get your fucking ass out here or I’ll break this goddamn door down, shithead! - was not a dream.

The brunette was groggy as he trucked down the steps, a pair of plaid boxers covering his lower body with a loose hanging T-shirt adorning his chest. His parents were out of town for work and he had the house all to himself (another reason he wanted to spent the night with Y/N - but it was Billy and her Thursday night...and she religiously scheduled it every week).

“What the hell...?” he groaned, swinging the door open to reveal a blurred figure.

Rubbing his eyes - Steve realized who it was, and suddenly his unstyled hair didn’t seem so important (because yes, he’d thought about fixing it before answering the door...he hadn’t had his priorities figured out yet, okay?! How was he supposed to know the importance?).

“H-Hargrove--,” “Move.” Billy shoved his way into the nice home - heading straight for the living room...carrying Y/N with him like a fragile piece of art. Steve raced to turn the lights on, still not understanding why the Hargroves were here - until he saw the state his girlfriend was in. (He didn’t even have time to think about how Hargrove knew exactly, where he lived...)

“W-What the fuck happened to her?” He asked, crouching down to Y/N’s level, a hand coming up to brush some y/c/h strands from her bruised face.

Billy was quiet for a moment, wiping his forehead with his shirt. “Our father.” That was all he had to say for Steve to understand...he’d been together with Y/N for...well...coming five months? He’d met her in school - fresh out of Cali...the three siblings had been the talk of the small town (especially the supposed party animal and his drop-dead-gorgeous sister).

It was love at first sight - for Harrington at least. He had tried acting cool...but that backfired as soon as he realized just how perfect Y/N was. A pretty smile, sweet laugh, delicious-smelling hair, smooth, sun-kissed skin, and to tie it all together - she came with an overbearing little bow of Billy Hargrove...

He remembered when Billy had shown up at the Byers’ house just last year - asking for his sisters...claiming a little bird told him they were with him; Steve had been trying to persuade the children to calm down and just let the starting team do their job (it hadn’t worked out).

Billy had seen Max’s head peek out and he’d already had Steve on the ground before he could justify himself. I thought I told you to stay away from my sister, Harrington? He’d given Lucas the same treatment...it had only gone downhill from there... Ending with Y/N offering to stay there with Billy for a little while, coming to help them later. She said I can’t leave him here like this...he’s my brother, Harrington... (Steve liked that idea better anyway, kept her away from the trouble).

So, when Steve had finally gotten the courage to ask Y/N out...he hadn’t been surprised when she turned him down. It only had him fight harder to prove his worth and after a torturously slow convincing...she’d finally broken...five months later and counting...and she was still by his side.

Steve had always been a bit of a worry-wart, he couldn’t help it - he watched six headass kids twenty-four-seven...it was in his blood now. “I-I’ll get the first-aid kit,” he quickly mumbled, leaving Billy to stand by his sister - a savage glint in his eyes that Harrington didn’t feel comfortable being around (they weren’t best friends after all, and Steve was sure if Billy had the chance - he’d skin him like a jack-rabbit...).

Returning within seconds, he gently lifted Y/N’s head, her slight hum all he needed to feel more relieved. “H-Hey...how you doing?” He offered weakly, placing her head back down in his lap as he balanced the kit on the armrest.

“B-Billy?” Steve shook his head, pulling a clean cloth to her face, dabbing the blood from her nose. “It’s Steve, hun.”

Y/N’s eyes were barely open, she frowned with a wince. “I’m here, kid...I’m here.” Billy’s gruff tone was enough to have her relax into Harrington’s touch without having to worry for her brother. Steve’s eyebrows furrowing, it made him sick to think she even had to worry about Billy like that.

“Hargrove - you wanna grab something in the freezer for me, like ice or whatever?” Steve asked, eyes focused on the bruises along Y/N’s cheeks. His heart was twisting, all he wanted was to cuddle her and take away all her pain...instead, he resolved on playing nurse for now.

Billy gave a curt nod, his boots fading into the kitchen. Steve took the small moment of isolation to press a gentle kiss to Y/N’s forehead. The y/c/h haired girl only looked puzzled after a half-smile tossed in his direction.

Steve was mumbling an apology as he applied disinfectant to her cut forehead, when she spoke,” W-Why am I here?” He was about to ask what she meant - Harrington figured she was here because Billy didn’t like the idea of keeping her in an unsafe environment in the state she was in...when he halted. Hand hovering over her brows.

Why did Billy bring Y/N here? There were so many other places to take her - Steve’s house couldn’t have been his first thought...and yet, as Billy walked back in, ice pack in hand...it felt like it had been.

Hargrove took a seat in the armchair nearest the couch Y/N was laid across, his elbows resting on his knees as he hid his mouth in his hands. Steve was staring at the curly-blond and Billy’s blue eyes dodged up to meet his brown ones.

“What?” Was all Billy charged while leaning back, his hands falling to his lap as he squirmed with the rings on his fingers.

Steve shook his head, breathing nothing, before looking down to his girlfriend. Billy...didn’t know...did he? No...they’d been cautious about it - meticulous and secretive - it’d been the most planning he’d ever done in his entire life...and he’d fought demodogs before...

Sure, Hargrove had the knowledge of mutual friendship between his sister and The Hair - they spent time with the party and so that was expected, being the only teens each other’s age. But, as far as Steve knew; they promised not to tell him...not yet anyway. He’d specifically told Y/N he didn’t care who she dated (it was her life after all) but God forbid it, kid - you better not end up fawning over that shithead, Harrington. No sister of mine is gonna sling it with the ex-King of Hawkins.

The distaste from one another stemmed thick and deep; Hargrove didn’t like Harrington, Harrington didn’t like Hargrove... Hiding their relationship was something that came with dating Hargrove’s beloved sister - Steve didn’t mind (much). He figured Billy would rip him a new one if he ever found out. Probably feed him to the Upside Down...or worse (What’s worse than that, Harrington? -- Being feed to Billy).

There had to be another reason Billy had taken Y/N here...and unless it was brought up in the short conversations of rival men - Steve wasn’t going to give Billy the ammunition to do shoot Steve in his own foot.

“More bruises...?” Y/N grumbled, hands skimming the ghosts of what he assumed were blooming blemishes along her stomach, back, chest...and well... her entire torso...

Steve nodded, licking his lips, his mouth dry as he ran a hand through her hair. It didn’t make him feel so hot to see the love of his life so...broken. He felt useless.

“Take your shirt off, Y/N/N so I can see what we’re dealing with,” Harrington decided, helping her sit up.

“Let it hang around your neck, kid,” Billy’s stern tone cut in, and Steve choked on his spit - Billy had been so quiet he forgot Hargrove was there.

Steve only nodded. He figured it’d be easier than taking it fully off anyway. Billy’s burning gaze didn’t help though - did he think Steve would try something? Wow...makes you feel great...Steve had some decency.

Y/N had difficulties getting her arms through their proper holes; so Steve gingerly helped her - trying not to do it for her, while also trying not to touch her for too long, on top of trying to well....help her. Billy was not making this easy.

Once the T-shirt was around her neck, hanging loosely (a pleased Billy following as it hung covering her chest, presumably what he wanted - only causing Steve to roll his eyes. He wanted to say - You know how many times I’ve seen her naked? Screw that - you know how many times I’ve undressed her? But he didn’t think he’d be safe to do so...).

“Oh, Y/N....” Steve muttered softly, biting his lip as his eyes filled with guilt. Her back was to him, and the litter of blue, black, purple, and yellow was like a child’s poorly done finger-painting. Streaks here and there, uneven and messy. Lifting his left hand, he warily brushed the skin; it was hot...feverish hot.

“I-I know...” she answered with a choked sob, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Billy was looking away from her, his eyes blinking away anger (he wasn’t about to let Harrington’s ass see him cry). “I’ll get more ice.”

Billy stood up swiftly and left the room - a slow string of curses finding him - Steve swore Hargrove thumped a fist to his kitchen counter...was Billy aware how much granite cost?

“Come here, my love,” he whispered, tugging her back into his chest. He swung his leg up to rest on the sofa, bordering where she sat as if his limb were a railing to keep her from falling.

Y/N leaned back, crying softly into his chest (it didn’t help that doing so was causing her abdomen hell). “Shhhh, it’s okay now...I’ve got you, babygirl...I’ve got you.” Y/N found solace in Steve’s words, gripping the thin material of his shirt she listened to the fast beating of his heart...

Bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum, bu-dum...

“I-I’m sorry...y-you have to s-see me like this,” she apologized, which only had Steve sink lower, drawing her as close as humanly possible.

He shook his head against hers as he rested his chin atop her. “No, no, no! Don’t you dare say you’re sorry, darling...this...is not your fault. It never is.” He kissed her hair tenderly and felt his own eyes well up (he refused to cry...he didn’t need Hargrove seeing him as a total softie - and Steve needed to be strong for his girl right now...).

“I-It’s so late-e though...y-you must’ve b-been asl--,” He tilted her head back, hating the way he could almost fit his hand in the same spots as the growing bruises on her jaw. He hated how the print of Neil was still glowing.

He gently shared a kiss with Y/N - forgetting Billy was in the kitchen...he could always deal with that later. She needed to know he was there...really there. Always.

“You, are the most beautiful creature...ever, and I don’t ever want you to say you’re sorry...for-r --,” he paused licking his lips and rubbing his nose to hers,”- for that bastard’s mistakes. You’re too good for that, you don’t deserve that, babygirl.” Steve would never blame her, not for anything. Certainly not this...She was like a flower - a flower that Harrington kept and cherished in his garden of gold.

He took care of it; watering it with hugs and kisses (sometimes drowning her in them...but he found that her particular type thrived on excessive gestures like so). He made sure she was healthy - always getting enough sunlight - making sure she shone that brilliant smile of hers...outdoing any star he’d ever seen...Steve made sure she could always call his garden home...that even if she had nowhere to go - he’d receive her with open, consoling arms.

Steve only hummed softly, Y/N entangled in his arms, their legs entwined as he threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her head close to his heart. He whispered sweet nothings and means of okay to her...and eventually, she gave in...Y/N fell asleep there in his arms and he’d never have it any other way.

“God, you’re such a fucking sap, Harrington,” Steve’s neck hairs stood on end - Billy was standing in the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. Steve told himself that maybe he hadn’t heard Billy right - or hoped that Billy hadn’t heard him right...

The muscular boy walked over, handing Steve frozen peas, mumbling something about how it’d do better than the lousy packs in Harrington’s freezer.

Steve nodded, moving slowly to take it from the brother - not wanting to disturb Y/N’s sleeping form. He pressed the cold bag to her exposed back, he felt her tense up, before easing back into him.

“She um...she kinda just fell asleep on me,” he explained while avoiding eye contact with the blond. Billy took his original seat - the armchair, but this time, he wasn’t fidgeting or staring at the floor. His blue eyes were fixed on the girl.

Clearing his throat awkwardly - Steve readjusted the bag, he was sure to help sooth these marks it would end up taking more than one bag of frozen veggies to make an impact.

 “How long?” Brown eyes flickered up, meeting blue.

“For?” Steve asked confused, though tried to sound as casual as possible. There weren’t very many times he and Hargrove were in one another’s company...this was the first they’d not been at each other’s throats...

Billy rolled his eyes, scratching at his neck. “How long have you been in love with her?” No beating around the bush, it seemed.

“I-I, uh, well,” Steve’s face flushed pink. The soft lighting of the numerous lamps already bathed him in orange...hopefully hiding the blush well enough. His eyes glanced to the clock by the fireplace...two-twenty-seven. God, it’s too fucking early for this bullshit....he’s really gonna do this to me? -- His sister’s half-naked on top of me...passed out -- and he’s really gonna do this to me?

Billy chuckled, though Steve didn’t see amusement reach his eyes...it was almost a forced laugh (like he was mocking Harrington). “You do love her? Don’t you, Harrington?” Steve could only nod, unsure if the answer should be yes or no...he could see both ending terribly as it was.

“God, and here I thought you were more of a man than this, Pretty Boy,” Billy scoffed, shaking his head as he reclined into the cushion of the seat.

“Since I met her,” Steve suddenly mumbled, his eyes set on the slow rise and fall of breath from Y/N. The hand not holding the frozen packet, circling her waist to keep her in place.

Billy observed his movements as if examining an opponent on the court....looking for a bluff, a flaw, a weak advantage. Hargrove thought he found it without having to try...and it was sitting in Steve’s lap - cuddled close to his chest. “Speak up, Harrington.” He grunted.

“The first day I met her,” Steve repeated, his voice steadier than before...louder than before...the sudden wave of confidence was found when he realized...it didn't matter what Billy thought...Steve loved Y/N...and she loved him. That’s all the reassurance he needed, and he remembered it with each breath she took.

“I fell in love when I saw her,” Steve confessed, his voice softening at the memory. “I-I think she was walking to find you, actually - it was after school one day...she’d asked me where the boy’s locker room was,” he chuckled to himself, hand running through her y/c/h locks. “I had been dying to meet these Hargrove twins for weeks now...but...I guess...I’d never had the pleasure of being formally introduced.”

“It...it was like watching a movie. She was walking down the hall, in my direction...and she said hi to me...nothing much. Enough to keep me coming back, y’know?... To want more.” Billy was quiet as Steve spoke, letting him ramble for as long as he wanted - Hargrove was trying to prove a point that he wasn’t sure blockhead could see just yet (that he knew about their relationship but getting Harrington to spill his guts out was even better).

“Then, I remember walking with her - I had to grab my gym bag anyway, and she had the prettiest laugh. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember the feeling of pride...-- Like, I’d done something really good...”

“She said I was nice - she said she liked my hair and - you know, that sent me over the moon,” Steve was laughing softly, trying not to move too much with Y/N’s head rested on his chest.

“I love her, Billy,” he told while glancing the brother’s way - his silence had been a bit mortifying...but Steve didn’t want Hargrove to think he’d actually been terrified to hear what he had to say. “I love her and I know you don’t like it - but...I can’t change how I feel.”

A few minutes passed by, and neither spoke again. Billy had gotten up, exchanging the now thawed peas for a fresh pack of them (mumbling something about the Harringtons’ having too many frozen vegetables). Roughly fifteen minutes of eerie stillness was carried between them - Billy had an arm bent at the elbow, holding his face up. His other hand tapping his jean covered thigh.

Steve was keeping himself occupied with moving the makeshift ice pack around, looking out for missed cuts (which there were a few) and treating them accordingly. Y/N was still propped between his legs, using him as a pillow - her hands rested around his waist peacefully locking him down.

“She loves you a lot, you know.” The suddenness of Billy’s low tone startled the brunette. He had thought that because it’d been quiet for so long...their conversation had long been shut down.

Steve gave a short closed-mouth smile. “You think so?” Harrington asked while shifting the pack to rest on Y/N’s shoulder.

“We have thin walls at home, Harrington. I hear her talking to you for hours on the phone,” Billy noted while shaking his head at the thought. “Did you know our houselines are all connected?” Hargrove was clearly messing with Steve - as if indicating he’d snuck on calls with them...it was a joke...but...coming from Billy - Steve was slow to react.

Steve sighed. “So you know then?” Billy shrugged. “Give or take, I know enough to realize she’s been seeing you for more than a month.”

The curly-blond chuckled. “I know my sister, Harrington. There’s no reason for her to be going on walks a seven o’clock. It’s not like we have a dog.”

“Maybe you’re not as dense as I thought,” Steve jabbed. Billy only grunted in response, not laughing, but not taking too much offense to his words.

Hargrove rolled his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger before saying,” You know - telling me wouldn’t have done anything.”

“You’re saying my head wouldn’t have been on your wall? Like a trophy?” Steve snorted while rolling his eyes,” Yeah - okay.”

“Don’t get pissy with me, Harrington. You’re the one who went behind my back, screwing my sister, amigo.” Billy had him there.

Steve swallowed a sarcastic bite and answered honestly instead,” We were scared you’d not approve--” “Because just doing it anyway helps your case” “--so we just decided to wait till the right moment...” Steve pretended not to hear Billy’s sardonic interruption.

“Was this the moment you were looking for, Harrington?” Billy’s voice didn’t hold its usual arrogant demeanor. He sounded as if he were genuinely trying to talk to Steve. At least there was that much going for Harrington.

“What, you mean at three-am, sitting in my living room - your sister not even conscious for the talk?” he concluded,” No...it wasn’t exactly the ideal moment.” Billy chuckled at that, and Steve joined him. They surely weren’t friends...no...but...they could understand one another and that made all the difference.

“Take care of her, Harrington.”

Billy understood that Steve loved Y/N as much as he did. He cared for her like he did, and only wanted the best for her. Hargrove could see the way Steve looked at her, and it was like she were the only person in the room. The only smile that mattered, the only mind that counted.

Sure, Billy didn’t exactly like Harrington...but he could get over that (for now) because the dipshit somehow made her happy. Steve could make Y/N smile when Billy wasn’t there to do it himself...so he thanked the brunette for that. He thought his sister deserved the world - more than the world really, but if Steve was the only thing the universe had to offer...and that only thing that Y/N wanted from the universe... Billy could understand.

“I will.”

It wasn’t much different for Harrington. He knew that Billy loved Y/N - may be more than he did...they’d always have a bond that Steve would envy. Y/N never stopped talking about her ‘big brother Billy - the coolest guy she knows, the strongest guy she knows, etc’. Steve felt like he knew Billy better than Billy knew...and yet, here they were - sitting roughly half a room apart - the only thing tying them to civility being a girl whom they both loved.

Sure, Steve didn’t exactly like Hargrove...but he could get over that (for now) because he knew no matter what he did or said; Billy would always be her big brother who made her happy. Billy would protect her when Steve couldn’t, and maybe that’s why it was so hard for Billy right now...because he hadn’t been there at all for his sister when she needed him most...and Harrington wondered if it was eating away at Billy’s conscious.

He’d always been so hard to read - whether cross or content - it all looked generally the same (Steve had told Y/N that once and she’d laughed, saying you just had to know the tells...for example when Billy’s nervous - he usually gets antsy and fidgety). Either way, the pain would always be the same... Steve could understand.

“Just because you’re dating my sister - doesn’t make us buddy-buddy, Harrington,” Billy clarified, a wicked half-smirk finding his lips.

Steve rolled his eyes, brushing the hair from Y/N’s face. “I know - it’s not like I’d want to be friends with you anyway...I can only stand one Hargrove at a time.” Before Billy could say anything (he was going to warn Steve that a certain y/c/h haired girl was not asleep...and had been up for quite some time...), Harrington sputtered a sound of shock as he was jabbed in the side.

“Dumbass,” Y/N grumbled, scooting closer to his side.

Steve’s eyes widened and he stumbled to find his words,” Oh - You’re up...how long have you been up...?” His tone was light, and yet - why was his heart racing so fast? She pushed away his hand holding the pack of frosted peas and sat up with a stifled groan. “Long enough, Harrington,” she looked to her brother sheepishly - he returned the simper, Billy was glad the swelling went down - her face almost looked normal again (and Steve was gaping at the fact that Billy was smiling...like genuinely).

Billy began chuckling shaking his head - the waves of relief and security finding him as Y/N seemed..if not okay...she was at least holding up. He was sure shed be in pain for a few days more, the bruises needing some time to heal. Y/N only giggled, wincing at the ache caused by laughter - whoever said it was the best medicine...was a liar.

The little shit she was...she’d been awake for the last ten minutes or so - sleeping with bruises wasn’t easy...he’d know. She was also a terrible actress - while Steve had been talking, busy with cleaning nicks and cuts, Billy had watched how his sister’s face would momentarily contort at the contact of hydrogen peroxide. Billy was very observant, especially when it came to his little sister...he’d have been lying if he said he had never followed Steve’s BMW back to his house before...he was Billy supposed to know where he was taking his baby sister? (Little? -- Billy, we’re the same age! --But you’re way fucking shorter than me, pipsqueak).

Steve was blushing, very confused, but also glad to see Y/N was feeling a bit better. “I was up long enough to hear that...um...Billy....you know...,” she paused eyes drifting to the floor. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier...I think Steve would’ve been in the position I am if we’d told you.” Y/N made a grime gesture to her battered body.

Billy clicked his tongue, standing up to stretch his back and neck. “Nah, he wouldn’t look like that,” his low voice droned out as he began walking towards the door (not before placing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead and gently ruffling her hair). “He’d look much worse if I got to him, kid.”

Steve rolled his eyes, his girlfriend laughing as she pressed a hand, hissing, to her side. That’s what you get for making fun of me, she swore he said that under his breath - the intimation of a smirk creeping on Steve’s sweet lips.

“Where’re you going, B?” Y/N asked while watching her brother reach for the doorknob.

“Home. I’m tired and I have work i--,” “Stay.” Both sets of Hargrove eyes turned to watch Steve with a bewildered manner. Billy gave a huff of amusement, be licked his lips, hand running down the side of his face as he raised an eyebrow at Harrington.

“Come again?” He demanded.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, a small uplift of the corner of his lips sealing his attempt at kindness. “You can stay here - guest bedroom’s upstairs. It’s almost three, man. Just spend the night.”

Billy looked conflicted. Pride and logic always had a hard time understanding one another...a constant battle of the mind. He was so used to doing things on his own...taking Harrington’s charity wasn’t exactly an ego boost.

It bordered his whole issue with having Y/N and Harrington be together in the first place... He’d spent his whole life taking care of himself. Of her. Making sure she was always safe, making sure Y/N never got the worst of it. His father was not a good example of a man, and Billy certainly had his rough edges.

He knew that if anyone were to be with his sister, they’d have to be a man worth her time. First meeting Steve, Billy took him as the same old, same old...playboy wanna-be, who drank too much, partied too often, and flirted too quickly...Steve reminded Billy of himself (not the kind of man he wanted Y/N with).

Over time though...it seemed Steve Harrington was hiding behind a mask. Billy had been skeptical, seeing as good things always came with a sharp end...but...he saw how happy Steve made Y/N...the sincere consideration he put into everything...Harrington had become the only exception.

And still...that battle of pride and logic waged on and Billy wasn’t sure of the generous offer of sleeping at the Harrington estate.

“I can take care of m--,” “I know, I know. You’re a big boy - but...it’s more convenient for you to stay here, Billy.” Y/N cut in, squeezing Steve’s hand in hers as a silent signal of her appreciation. She didn’t want Billy going home...not (without her), anyway. She didn’t care what happened to her - as long as Billy was okay...she knew she couldn’t do much, but if this was what she could grant him - then she’d do everything in her power to keep it that way.

“Harrington.” The soft reply was barely heard, following a thank you in the form of a head-nod, but Steve waved in response. “Y-Yeah, any time man.” 

Billy’s footsteps were fleeting and soon enough, they were alone. Steve puffed his cheeks out, eyes wide as he looked down to her. “You’re trouble, you know that?” Y/N scoffed, moving to stand up - she was thirsty and water sounded good (or alcohol...).

“Woah, woah - slow down there, tiger -- let me help you,” he shot up, arm around her waist protectively, hand holding hers as he walked her in the direction she pointed. He easily lifted her to sit on the countertop (even though Y/N complained he was being dramatic).

A cold glass of water was handed to her, their fingers touching through the pass. Steve stood between her legs and hesitantly placed his hands on her hips, unsure of what pain may lie there.

“You scared me, babes,” he admitted while resting his head on her shoulder, one of Y/N’s hands combing through his hair, the other holding her cup. “I did?”

“Mhmmm,” Steve hummed, turning his head to look at her, his brown eyes outlining the purple on her jawline. His muscles tensing at the thought of Neil’s hands on her. “I was scared - why wouldn’t I be?”

Y/N shook her head, not wanting to cry again. She placed her drink down, and cupped Steve’s face, lifting his head up, their foreheads pressed together. She closed her eyes, soaking in the scent of a faint shampoo and gentle body wash.

“I’m here, I’m breathing...I’m okay, Steve.” Her thumb rubbed a small circle on his skin and Steve melted into her touch. His arms holding him up, on either side of her as she sat there.

Steve couldn't hold himself back any longer; he tilted his head up, lips meeting hers. The faint taste of copper lingering between their kiss - but he didn’t mind. His body shifting to have Y/N’s front weighted to his, he kissed her, a hand coming to delicately - hold her tender face in his palm.

“I love you, so much, Y/N,” only pulling from the kiss to speak, Steve laughed wistfully. “Don’t cry, darling...you’re way too pretty to cry.”

Y/N shook her head, her hands falling down to hug his neck, he closed his eyes, rubbing her back instinctively. His face in the crook of her neck.

“You think Billy’s okay with this?” she whispered.

Steve tsked, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall, he clicked his tongue,” I’ll give it till eight before he comes searching for my ass.”

--

a/n footer: I know this may not be what you expected...but...it turned out sweet..no? I personally love Steve & Billy interactions, like...they’re not friends - but...they’ve both got something worth being civil for... I hope you all enjoy! <3

Sunsets Back Home pt. 2 will be out very soon! <3 Along with some Steve requests~

Tagged: @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @dazedimagines @danielathedoll @allisjustok @wallflxvver @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @frnchpy @kimmydespell @editsbyjenny @dazedimagines @novaddictx @mairalynn416 @wefracturedmotivation @truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @savingprivatecass @emmalbg @timeladygallifrey @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @billyhargrovescigarette @krystalane @truthdaze @neverlandsoundsgood @friendlyneighbourhoodmercenary @imarockstar145 @foryoubarnes @winchestergirl907 @anniethepanda 

You want a drink, angel? He’d offered to get her one, to which she refused. It’s probably spiked...besides, one of us has to be sober enough to get us home, Hargrove. She’d always been the responsible one - always reminding him that he shouldn’t be so reckless. He’d always told her she worried too much - but it seemed that Karma had the longest memory and irony decided that fate would be shaken...because recklessness was too placid a word for how he’d acted that night. Thoughtless. Ignorant. Irrational. There wasn’t a word for how he’d acted...no word strong enough...

He’d secured his spot as the Keg King once more, finishing with a loud cheer and the roaring of a half-drunk crowd. How could he pass up a keg stand? - A new challenger approached and all he saw was victory.

She’d stood there - in the front, arms crossed over her stomach as she watched with an eye roll. He’d almost choked on his own alcohol-flavored spit; right then and there. With his leather jacket around her shoulders, her y/c/h hair let loose to frame her face angelically...she looked like a model. Billy only winked, while running his tongue over the skin of his teeth. Earning him a slow, mocking clap from the pretty girl.

He could hold his alcohol better than anyone - and everyone knew that about Hargrove. So, downing six more drinks and he was still standing without an issue. Maybe a slow-tone to his words, but it only added to the seduction of his voice. 

He was in the middle of it all - and that’s just how Billy liked it. Attention. Eyes on him...everyone floored by the man he was. If he’d known it’d be the last night to see her eyes...he’d have begged and prayed for only her attention, her eyes, her light, her heart alone...some man he was...

Y/N had been off to the side; after shouting over the music that her head hurt and she was tired (she’d been dancing with him for some time now, but certainly didn’t have the energy he did - nor the beer in his system). Oh, c’mon, babygirl -- stay with me? If only he’d known how much those words could mean to someone... He’d taken advantage of them. He’d taken advantage of the simplicity of slowing down...because Billy Hargrove never slowed down...and maybe that’s why he ended up crashing and burning.

He’d been dancing with some random girl - not sure who she was, nor did he care. Her body was ironed to his, and while his mind was swimming with a disoriented haze he carried on...he hadn’t been thinking straight, and it was only the start of it all. His words slow and his mind slower. His blood had been fast and his heart had been faster.

Excuse me, sorry...just gonna take him home now... Y/N hadn’t been upset with Hargrove for chatting it up with someone else. She only rolled her eyes. As a drunk Billy was always a flirty Billy (she swore he’d ask out Steve’s hair if he could in such a wrecked state). Hmmm? Pretty girl wants to dance with me now? He’d teased. He could decipher the easy things - like how this was his girlfriend and that she was now dragging him out of the hot, stuffy house to the front yard. Billy had a harder time picking up on the smaller things in his state of blind bliss...like when to shut up and what not to say at what times.

The air was cool and it sent a wave of tension down his back as his muscles reacted kindly to the change of atmosphere, a sigh come to his lips. Tell me why we walked here again? Y/N had groaned while zipping the leather jacket up, having a slight chill find her bones.

Because my house is only a few blocks away, angel - and it’d have been a waste of gas. Billy had chuckled at that, walking as if he didn’t have beer flowing through his veins with the amount of alcohol he’d taken in - probably half his body weight. His arm slung around her, bringing her closer. It didn’t seem like he were really drunk at all.

Y/N had only hummed, resting her hear his collarbone as they strolled leisurely in the direction of the said home. How can you even walk straight, Billy? You’re practically bleeding alcohol... He shrugged. I’m immune to consequences. That was a lie. A lie worse than any he’d ever tell again in his life...because if that were true...she’d have been here with him as he raced down the backstreets - telling him to slow down and get his shit together before they skid off the road...

Mhm, sure, Billy. She’d noticed that his gait was a bit off, though she expected that. His head still stuck in cloud-nine. He was talking just fine though, so she didn’t think much of it. Why’re we leaving anyway? He’d whined while glancing down to the y/c/h haired girl.

Because you were getting to that weird grey-zone where you started getting too close to people you don’t know. In other words; Billy was getting too handsy for Y/N’s taste. But I was having fun. She rolled her eyes at his weak comprehension. Playing with his fingers, she curled and uncurled them as he hung his arm around her neck.

I wasn’t - and it was getting late. Billy had groaned. Shaking his head in an irritation stirred by intoxication. You’re no fun, Y/L/N. Y/N had raised a brow, knowing he used her last name when he was annoyed - he was so dramatic.

From there, Billy couldn’t really remember what had been said to throw the situation out of control...he knew though, that he had been the one to blame. His unfiltered ego and confident intoxication left him with the brutal mess of his own damn mind.

He was now parked outside his house, he’d gone for a drive, the sun just beginning to set. Getting out with a slam of his door, he walked to the front entrance, mind still replaying everything that had happened that night...what he’d said to her.

God, Y/N! See - I knew, I knew this would happen! It always happens with girls like you! He’d shouted into the night as if the stars might take his side. They did not, and they let him fight this battle of errors on his own. 

They’d stopped walking long ago...only halfway to his house.

Excuse me, Hargrove? Why had he said that? Why didn’t he take it back? Maybe it was because, at some point, she’d brought up Harrington - how he’d told her to keep an eye on Billy at parties. Billy hated that she talked to him. Billy hated it even more, that she’d taken advice from him; treating Billy as a child under Steve’s words.

You know. I’m sick and tired, of Harrington, Harrington, Harrington...you know? I don’t need to hear his damn name from your fucking mouth, Y/N. Why does it matter if he wants you to ‘watch me or not’, heaven forbid - I go off on my own at a party!

 Billy was drunk...Billy was drunk...Billy was drunk...that’s what she told herself over and over to help keep her cool. He didn’t know what he was saying, just a little jealous...he didn’t know what he was saying...he didn’t know what he was say--

And I don’t need - you - watching out for me like my fucking mother, thanks for that. If I wanted, I can do whatever the hell I want, with whoever the fuck I want. There’re plenty of girls in this shit-hole town.

The chanting was fragmented in her mind and she could only stare at him. She wondered how he could drink so much alcohol...and yet his voice and words came out as smooth as butter. It made her eyes brim with emotion, she clenched her fists. Relax. He’s not thinking right. Don’t let his dumbass get to you.

Billy. Shut up, and keep walking. I’m not getting into this with you right now. She warned while reaching for his hand. He jerked it away.

No! You don’t get to call the shots like...like you’re in control! Did Steve tell you to do that too? Did he tell you that -- that all you do is hold me back, ‘Billy, no more beer’, ‘Billy, stop driving so fast’, ‘Billy - I thought we talked about this?’ He never did have a defect in his words, because everything he’d said was a flaw.

I hold you back, Hargrove...? she didn’t even know what to say. It was hard for her to pick apart lies from truth, and Billy from the alcohol.

Yeah, don’t you think I know I can get any girl here? The girls back there - are all fucking down for it. I get calls left and right, but here I am with a girl who listens to Harrington like he’s some saint.-- It was Y/N’s turn to cut in. Her face was red with frustration at the past twenty-three minutes of arguing with a drunk only to be faced with this. Who knew it’d only take seven seconds to crumble...

Go back to the party then, Billy! Go find some girl - and fuck her till you come to your damn senses! See if I care! Hot tears streaked her skin, and there was a flash in Billy’s eyes as a small part of him found himself sobering up at the sight of the girl before him.

Go back to that party and never come back. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Billy. I’m going home. I’m so sorry if I held you back, Hargrove! I’m so fucking sorry for wasting your time - I only love you...and no (she’d laughed as she spoke, the tears still finding her eyes) -- no, you don’t need to ask; Steve didn’t tell me that. I thought I knew that you loved me too...I was wrong.

I was wrong. It was printed into his heart. Burning through his eyelids as he tried to sleep. It’d been seventeen days, nineteen hours, and twenty-two minutes since he’d spoken to Y/N. Seen her. Felt her. And every damn second hurt. Every damn second counted because he’d been talking out of his ass when he’d yelled at her and there was no way he could turn it around...

One, two three...

He was in his room, hands running through his hair. He hadn’t slept very well since that night. Billy hadn’t done very well at all...if a girl left him - he’d laugh and brush it off. Bounce back better than before.

Seven, eight, nine...

Not this time. He couldn’t even stand long enough to spring back. He hadn’t laughed since she’d been there; a ghost in his room now. He could see her dancing around, tripping over air while he watched from his bed...seated as he was now. Except he’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his eyes filled with desire and fire. Music would be playing and he’d watch Y/N flounder around - either singing to the song or getting distracted with something in his room.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...

You need to dust. Y/N had once said while grimacing. The dust can sit there for my entire life and I wouldn’t give a single shit, Y/N/N. She’d only snorted, laughing. Her hands skimming his dresser as she examined his things. Oh, is this what you use? She had been talking about his cologne, and Billy would nod.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine...

Mhm. Every day, princess. Squirting it in the air, Y/N would walk into it. It smells good. He’d chuckle. I know, I bought it. Her y/c/e eyes were always so pretty - and looking to him; she’d smile. A smile so perfect - with lips so sweet...his knees would quiver with the thought of her. His mind turning to dust at the thought of her now gone.

Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four...

Is this yours too, Billy? He’d glance over from his bed, now laying down, one leg bent at the knee, as his head was turned in her direction; still waltzing around. Y/N - this is my room...everything is mine. Including the beautiful creature curiously peeking at his belongings - she had been his...God, he still considered her his.

Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven...

I know, but -- I was just asking to confirm. She pointed to his large radio and cassette player, resting on the dresser with all of his other junk (she always told him he should clean up...yet when he tried to - she’d scold him for ruining the perfect Billy mess).

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine...

Yeah, it’s mine.

Sixty.

Another dreadful minute passed by. The memories of Y/N fading with the dying light of the sun through his window. Peals of her laughter still haunting his mind even without her being there.

His eyes wandered to the stereo rested on his dresser. Billy stood up, walking to it in a hushed sound of boots on wood. A small stack of cassettes was placed beside it, all gifts from Y/N... One, in particular, stuck out, having his name written on it; scribbled hearts surrounding it. He traced the oh-so-familiar handwriting with his pointer.

♡ For Billy Hargrove ♡

He licked his lips, turning it over in his hands, thinking about how she’d touched it - she’d made it for him. He popped the mixtape into the player’s opening and pushed it into position.

There was a soft clicking, and then...music filled the room. Music that reminded him painfully - of her. Songs they both loved, songs she knew he loved, and songs she knew he’d come to love...

He placed his hands to rest on the edge of the furniture. Head down as he stared at the ground. Billy - you’ll love this song! Come listen!

Song after song, he felt himself losing it. Every shred of dignity, every scrap of control...it was all fading away with each ending verse. His eyes screwed shut;  gritting his teeth as he curled his hands into fists, his nails digging into the wooden dresser.

Have you ever heard this one, Billy? It’s really good!

He’d never been a man of honor. He’d never had something worth his fire. Worth his spirit. Worth his time. Billy had never seen a reason to care about anyone else’s skin but his own.

But she changed him. Y/N...she changed him. She’d gradually taught him how to be sincere. His words were his honor and his fire was worth keeping lit. She gave him a reason to smile, through every hurricane...every storm...every pain...every doubt...every loss...every loss except this one.

What’s this, princess? 

It’s a mixtape, silly! - I made it for you! You know...for our anniversary...b-but...I guess you can have it now...I forgot to put it away when you said you’d be coming over.

Oh...I didn’t k-know that, angel. I didn’t think it was for n-next week - I just saw my name on it and--

It’s okay! Just take it now! I have more gifts anyway!

Thanks, angel...

Any time, devil-boy. You like the Scorpions, right? Guns N’ Roses? Aerosmith? Bon Jovi? Metal--

Yes, Y/N -- and I’m sure whatever else you put on here is fine. I’ll love it because you gave it to me, dollface.

No One Like You was leaving a sour taste in his mouth. The song reminded him too much of his mistakes - it turns out...Billy wasn’t immune to consequences. How arrogant he’d been...he had spoken fire and gotten burnt.

Billy...you love me...right?

What kind of question is that? -- Can’t you just enjoy the movie, babycakes?

I..I am! I just...do you?

For fuck's sake...of course, I do! What’s gotten into you? You...you know I love you. More than anyone else in this hellhole of a world... Why do you ask?

Just making sure...because...I love you, and it’d suck if you didn’t love me back.

But I say it all the time, angel.

I know...but...what happens if you changed your mind one day?

I won’t, angel. I won’t.

And he hasn’t. He never did, and he never will. Seventeen days, nineteen hours, and...now, forty-nine minutes... Each second only dug deeper, each minute only burning longer, each hour taking him by the neck and breaking him...and each day? Leaving him more hopelessly in love than the last.

He needed her, he wanted her, he missed her...he was greedy for her. Billy always wanted, wanted, wanted...he always needed, needed, needed... Only now, his vision was obscured, the colors swimming together like he was driving too fast down the roads of Hawkins. He fought off the wave of sobs that were threatening to close in on his being. He slammed a fist on the dresser. The power only dispatching a vibration of shock through his arm...nothing compared to the misery his sanity was taking - hit by hit, blow by blow, bit by bit...

The words of Still Loving You by the Scorpions mocked him. Sucking the air from his lungs leaving him speechless, his body shaking in a fit of protest. It wasn’t fair...it wasn’t fair...it wasn’t fair...

Tears had everything look the same, his hands striking out - casting everything off his dresser. His car keys went flying, his magazines littered the floor, books crashed down, and his heart jumped to his throat. He seized his Aramis cologne and hurled it at the wall, yelling as he did so. The strong scent wafting up, encasing him in her embrace because she liked to spray it on herself when she came over...she’d hug him and that’s all he could smell - mixed with a gentle touch of lavender and all things sweet.

Shaking his head, he harshly wiped his vision clear - not lasting very for long, as the agony consumed him and the room spun. Flinging the dresser drawers from their places, he threw them to the floor. He was lucky his weights were in his closet, packed away...he’d have busted his windows and the walls otherwise...

Billy tore the posters down and smashed the photos he had framed. His knuckles were red, cuts oozing blood from his reckless actions. He was panting, his breathing labored and unsteady as his lips produced moans of despair.

Looking up, he saw himself in his mirror. He stumbled to it, walking around the bit and pieces of broken room. A hand coming up to touch the glass - his eyes were bloodshot and his face was glistening with a mix of tears and sweat. His hair was unkempt, his shirt was hanging off his shoulders and he looked like he’d just walked out of a bar fight.

The man’s blue eyes were staring holes into Billy as he stood in the glass across from him. The man he was - the pitiful being he’d stooped to. Images of Y/N standing behind him, hugging him as he fixed his slight imperfections in the same full-body mirror he was crouched by now.

His hand reared back, and the speculum was a shattered mess of jagged lines and spiderwebs made from thin air of his grief and anger. He couldn’t look himself in the eyes...he saw how bad it was and it only made things worse. His fists beat the wall until a dent was made and his hands bled. His sobs were loud and uncontrolled. 

A stray photo was calling his name out of the corner of his fuzzy sight. It was pinned down by glass and he wiped it away, not caring if he’d get nicked by it. Billy’s hands shakily holding it up to eye-level, he used the palm of his free hand to rub the sadness away to see it clearly.

A smiling girl was staring back at him. Her arms around a man’s neck, his gaze not even paying mind to the camera...all he could see was the y/c/h haired woman in his arms. Then, click, and someone had taken that photo...someone had given it to Billy...someone had framed it for him...and he’d broken it. He folded it, trembling as he put it in his breast pocket.

He was collapsing from his ferocity and the remains of his room shamed him into a ball as he buried his face in his knees. Sitting on the floor by the broken mirror that reflected a broken man, brazenly cracked, every missing piece tossed away, yet it still managed to pretend to work...it was a spitting image of him and it shook Billy to his core.

The four walls containing the hell he’d given, representing his mind now. A splintered, haze of everything he owned - everything he knew - everything he was.

He was gagging on his own spit, suffocating on his cologne, and drowning in an ocean of loneliness he didn’t think possible.

Love, our love, just shouldn’t be thrown away.

I will be there...I will be there...

If we’d go again all the way from the start.

I would try to change the things that killed our love.

The lyrics ridiculed him. The song seeping into every cut on his hands, stabbing him in the sides, and having Billy’s grip on the last bit of reality slip away. He ran his hands through his curls, shaking his head as he let the sobs tear his throat raw.

He missed her, God, he missed her...where was she? At home? At a friend’s? At the movies? At the library? Billy needed to find her. He needed to find her and he needed to never let her go. Not again. Not like this. He wasn't going to let this fall like this.

And so, catching himself before he failed completely...he stood up. Dug through the mess for his keys and left.

Faster. Faster. Faster. He needed to be faster. He’d let too much time slip by, too embarrassed to fix himself - too lost to find himself...he hadn’t even thought of what to say when he got there...he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he’d just know.

Skid marks were left on the road seven feet behind him as Billy swerved to a stop. The familiar house with two-stories, and one room to the left of the house, ideally aligned with a tree. Wiping his nose with shaking hands, his shirt-sleeves uneven and wrinkled, he shuffled his way to the front door; a pocket heavy with a photo he loved. His jeans had some blood on them - from rubbing his hands along them, in an attempt to clean them. The guilt was still there though, and he wasn’t sure it’d ever be purged from his soul.

The front porch was familiar. Nights of classic-movie-scene walks up...where they’d share a moonlit kiss before parting ways. He ran his hand on the railing, remembering the times Y/N would sit there in the cushioned chairs, waiting for him to pick her up for a date. His lungs hurt.

He stood in front of the door for what felt like an eternity. Billy only managed to knock on it when he realized this was the only time he’d ever be able to work the courage up to talk to her. He needed her. He needed her. He needed her.

“Can I help y--,” a low voice had Billy’s bloodshot eyes snap up. His lips curling into a snarl at the sight of Steve Harrington. He wanted to bash his head in, yell at him, dig him a grave six feet under and bury him alive...

Instead...all Billy did was cry.

The brown-eyed boy looked at him in shock. The state of Hargrove was not pretty. He was stained with blood (Steve worried whose), his skin was flushed, his eyes were red, his form was shaking, and he looked like he’d walked from hell and back and only made it by the skin of a miracle.

“Shit, man. Um, you...you alright?” That was really the best he could come up with? Really, Harrington? This guy’s a fucking wreck...and you ask him if he’s alright?

Billy shook his head, his shoulders heavy as he used the doorframe to hold himself up. “No-o. I’m not okay, Harrington.” He bit his lip to keep from sounding too desperate - though he was long past the return of pride.

“W-What the hell are you even d-doing here?” Hargrove then spat like venom.

Steve found that protective streak in himself; crossed his arms and glared at the blond. “I could ask you the same thing, asshole.”

Billy held back his temper - deciding for himself what to do. He wiped his eyes on his forearm and shouldered past the best friend. “Hey-- what the fuck, dude? I didn’t invi--” “Where is she?”

Steve shook his head, he wasn’t doing this right now - he wasn’t going to let him do this to her again. He’d seen the way Y/N was after that night. She’d walked all the way to Steve’s house, not knowing what to do with herself - it was late...probably two in the morning.

He let her in and hugged her comfortingly until she was ready to talk. When his best friend told him what had happened...Steve had jumped up, ready to beat the crap out of Billy. Y/N only stopped him; telling him to not hurt Billy...she’d made every excuse for Hargrove...and she waited...waited for him to come and apologize. One day...two days...three days...a week...two weeks...and then now.

Now...Billy Hargrove was standing at her front door - and Harrington wasn’t going to allow him to hurt her again.

He grabbed the man by his arm as he pushed to the stairs, Steve yanked Billy back to the doorway. “Hargrove - get the fuck out! She does not want to see you.” It was a lie...all Y/N wanted was Billy...but Steve knew that she’d only break down at the sight of him, and it was just yesterday he’d gotten her to calm down fully (so like the good mother he was - Harrington was going to protect his child).

“I don’t c-care,” Billy’s voice cracked,” I want to see her...I want to see her.” His hands had come up to clutch Steve’s collar. His blue eyes blazing with passion and urgency and yearn... Steve turned his head away, hands up in a blank defense.

After a few seconds of Harrington not speaking, Billy spoke again.

“I-I...know what I did, H-Harrington. I-I’m trying to fix it...o-okay?” He licked his lips searching Steve’s eyes for anything... “You...you have to let me see her. I-I don’t care w-what you tell her...I fucking love her, and I always will....and-d I...I’m begging you, man.”

Steve shook the broken man’s hands off his shirt, stepping back, hand holding the door. Billy thought this was it - his whole being was destroyed to nothing...Steve was kicking him out...he’d never get to make it up to Y/N...he’d never be whole again.

“She’s in her room,” Steve grumbled, closing the door, with Hargrove still in the house - Billy gawking at him like he’d grown two heads. “But I’m warning you, Hargrove,” Harrington growled,” You pull shit like that again...,” Steve just shook his head, walking away into the hallway. “You know you do--,”

“I know I don’t deserve h-her.” Billy finished for him. He was much more hesitant to walk up those stairs now.

Turning before he entered the kitchen, Steve answered,” You don’t. You definitely don’t. But for some reason - you make her happy...so do your fucking job this time, will you?”

Knock, knock, knock...

She was sitting on her bed when the thuds beat down on her door. She rubbed her eyes, quickly putting the picture frame back on the nightstand - facing away from her as Steve had left it. (A picture of herself and a man whose arms were around her, her own around his neck. He hadn’t looked at the camera...and yet, she still framed the photo...wondering if he still had his...)

Y/N was a mess...she’d been a mess since that night. Even though she’d stopped crying in front of Harrington...that didn’t mean she’d stopped completely. Her hair was ratty and her skin was pale. She was a bit thinner and her clothes hung loosely on her frame.

She had his jacket piled on her bedsheets. At night, she’d hold it to her and try desperately to bring him back through sheer will. Maybe she should’ve given up on him...seventeen days...maybe she should’ve forgotten...

But a lie was a lie, no matter how it was spun. She’d never forget him. She could never forget him. His hair. His smile. His eyes. His face. His skin. His laugh. He was a ghost imitating everything she did.

It was like second-nature to her...she knew about the small scars along his skin, from a rough past and a wild present. Y/N knew about how he’d been scared to get his ear pierced - what would people think? She knew he liked his coffee black on bad days, and on good days he’d take milk with it...

Y/N could tell you the exact shade of his eyes - using numerous analogies...all relating to the sky and the ocean of the west coast...she’d never been there and that’s how she explained them. They’re so amazingly blue, like nothing I’ve ever seen before...

She could tell you about his soft spot for cats - or how he got uncomfortable when people touched his car stereo without permission...she could tell you about the times he’d come to her house; dead of night - with the only purposes of I missed you...can I just hold you? Or the nights when he’d come with a busted lip and a black eye...no words needed to communicate what he wanted...what he needed.

Y/N could tell you a lot about Billy Hargrove...why? Because...she loved him. She hated him, but she loved him...even after everything...

“Steve, the door’s unlocked,” she called out softly, not wanting to move from the mattress.

There was silence.

“Steve, just come in,” she groaned while standing up, wondering if this idiot was going to have her open the door for him. He’d been trying to coax her from her room for two weeks now...if this was his way of tricking her - it wasn’t going to work. (He’d been worse than her mother...hell, he was her mother...)

Heartbeats passed and she cursed under her breath, marching across the floor and ripping the door open. “Steve - stop, it’s not fu--”

Blue met y/c/e.

Her words failed her, her hands moving to hid her mouth, a silent cry filling her lungs.

“Y-Y/N--,” That was all he could get out before she tried slamming the door in his face. He pushed an arm out, holding the door off - his head down as he fought back his own tears.

“W-What do you want now, Billy?!” She rasped, her voice delicate as she pressed her back to the wood. Shaking her head as she used the door as a means to hold herself up - knees having been shot through since meeting those electrifying blue eyes.

Billy could tell she wasn’t trying to force the door shut...there was little pressure being applied, but he stayed still - forearm still keeping the space between door and doorway open. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her small sobs and it had him choke up.

He’d never done this for anyone before...not for his life did he think he’d have crawled back to a girl...begging hands and knees to her best friend to let him in...no...she was different. Billy would do anything for her. Some called him crazy, some called him stupid...but he knew it was just the side-effects of love.

“I’m sorry.” Two simple words, two simple words strung together by a shaking voice and a man whom she loved with every fiber of her being. Y/N shook her head, her feet sliding on her carpeted floor - she slowly fell to the ground, her arms coming to circle her knees.

“N-Not...good enough, Billy.” She breathed while memories of their times together clouded her vision unfairly.

He was quiet. Placing his forehead to the cool mahogany. His arm still keeping the door in place, his other hand finding the idle doorknob. “I-I was an idiot...I am an idiot...I should’ve...I should’ve run after you.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever h-happened to me,” he licked his lips, laughing dryly - as he thought about his fucked-up life,” Y-You know that.”

“I-I’ve never met someone as smart as you...” Y/N bit her cheek, her eyes finding the leather jacket she’d been holding onto for the last few weeks, still rested on her bed... she’d been told by the party, her friends, and her parents to throw it away...burn it...forget it...

“Someone as kind as you.” But they didn’t understand...She couldn’t burn the image of his eyes from her mind. She couldn’t burn the feeling of his skin on hers. Or how his gentle curls felt between her fingers. She couldn’t burn the ghost of his smile from her memories...she couldn’t burn the laugh that echoed through her being...because that’s simply how untouchable he was.

“Someone as beautiful as you.” But they didn’t understand...you cannot simply forget Billy. He was, and always will be, the most irresistible man she’d ever met and will meet. He was smarter than any street slick Y/N had ever had the pleasure of knowing...more clever than any Hawkins playboy she’d ever known. He knew his cards...he knew his strengths...and he hid his weaknesses...He left a picture in the back of your mind - that was simply how unforgettable he was.

“Someone as perfect as you.” But they didn’t understand... Throwing away Billy was like trying to rid yourself of poison and still drinking the contaminated bottle without a second thought. You can’t. He meant too much to her...Billy was everything to her...he was the smell of her bedsheets in the morning...he was the flow of adrenaline when she got scared, comforting her body in a wave of confidence...Billy was the shadow that followed her along the floor - making sure she’d never be alone...he was hers. He was hers...and she could not throw him away...because that was simply how much she loved him.

“I...I love you, Y/N. I fucking love you...and...and sometimes, it s-scares me. Because I-I didn’t realize how much I needed -you...until you were gone. Y-You’re the only thing keeping me a-alive in this fucked world. Y-Y/N...you’re the o-only person I want. The only person I’d give everything f-for...”

“I-I can’t do this without you...I...I was being an ass when I-I said I could...could get any girl. I-It’s not true - because I-I can’t replace you...it wouldn’t matter. T-They wouldn’t be y-you.” Billy had never poured his heart out like this. His chest hurt and he slid down to his knees, the door being the only thing keeping them apart...and even so, it was cracked open...

“Y-You don’t hold me back. That’s not true - you keep me from killing myself over stupid things. Like fights, street races, and drinking too much that I can’t stand. You don’t hold me back, Y/N,” he wondered if she was catching his poured heart...cradling it in a fine goblet of gold...he wondered if she was even listening. “You don’t hold me back, angel. You hold me up.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

The silence lasted one minute...then two...he counted three and when Billy reached twenty-four seconds into the fourth minute - the door was yanked open and revealed the most precious human being he’d ever laid eyes on.

A baggy t-shirt (one he recognized as his own), shorts too short for his taste (only because Harrington was still in the house and Billy didn’t like the idea of her walking around half-naked). She looked slim - God - was she eating? He hated himself.

Her hair was messy like she hadn’t touched it in a week....he longed to run his fingers through it though - untangle the knots and kiss her temple. Y/N’s eyes had bags under them - leaving a hollow crease of life upon her pale skin.

On his knees still, he lifted his arms weakly, the tears rolling down his face as he watched her. His lips quivered and he choked out,” Babygirl...stay with me.” He’d said the same words nights before - her y/c/e eyes shone with recognition...yet this time, it wasn’t a question. It wasn’t in a teasing quip...It was a desperate plea of the heart. Billy’s eyes were glossy - they held so much regret. Dragging his words to weeps as they stood there - staring at one another.

He looked horrible...his hair wasn’t done, his eyes were red, his face was tear-stained, his shirt was buttoned all wrong and hanging off his shoulders, his jeans were blood-stained, and he was half the height of the man she knew.

Yet, it was still the same dirty-blond hair she loved. He still had the same most breathtaking blue eyes; with a face, she’d kissed so many times. A shirt that she’d probably unbuttoned and worn herself more times than he did. Billy’s jeans were still the same white-wash that he loved, even when he was covered in dirt and grime from whatever the hell he’d gotten in to. And when he stood? He’d always be the same man she knew...the man she loved.

“Billy,” she breathed, throwing herself at him. Their bodies colliding with a soft thud as she bent down to collect herself in his open arms. “Angel, oh, m-my God, Y-Y/N.” He held her tightly...because he refused to let her go. Not this time...no...he swore on his life, he’d never let her go.

Whispering his watery apologies to her, he couldn’t keep his tough facade up (no, that’d been broken since he’d gotten there. It was shattered in his room, on the floor with the glass of his mirror). “I’ll treat you right this time...I’ll be yours...I’ll never do it again...please don’t leave me again...I’m sorry....I’m so, sorry, angel...forgive me...forgive me, Y/N.”

She didn’t answer him, only hungrily stole kisses from his open mouth, stealing the words of sorrow from his lips. The slight taste of salt lingered from his tears, mixing sweetly with the staleness of Marlboro cigarettes dogging his breath. His hands, trembling, tugged her body to his - closer than he’d ever held her before.

When they pulled away, they were sat on the floor, his back leaned against her doorframe. He was rubbing her clothed-back as she hid in his neck, her arms tightly wound around his torso as if he’d melt away. Billy had never felt so relieved in his life...he’d never felt so saved...so fortunate...to simply hold a body between his legs, arms circling a waist he loved. He wondered if she could hear his heart. The one that was loudest for her - the heart that cried when she left, having Billy do stupid...stupid things...like a beast...Y/N tamed him...like a drug...Y/N entangled him.

“I-I forgive you, Billy.” And that’s all it took...for Billy Hargrove to lose himself completely. In everything, she was; hanging on her every word. He’d never leave her side...Billy would never let himself do such a thing....not again.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, thumb drawing circles into her hip, his voice coarse from his meltdown at home.

Y/N only shook her head. She needed him. He needed her. They deserved one another because that was simply how they were made...human flaws were meant to find the ones who made them...better. Whether it be a true defect in human nature...or a saving grace. Billy deserved her, just as Y/N deserved him.

Cupping his face, she let out a laugh...a real laugh...one she hadn’t produced in days. A smile so true, it stopped Billy’s heart...just for a moment. That moment being long enough for him to realize he had the love of his life back...reality made him return the simper. 

“Did Steve tell you that, Hargrove? I thought we didn’t listen to Harrington, Billy?”

He kissed her.

--

a/n footer: You know that moment that your heart just...sighs? That’s what I felt writing this...

The request of Steve Harrington x Hargrove!Reader that everyone seems hyped about is coming out...tomorrow? How does that sound? :) Then pt.2 of Sunsets Back Home (because I’m angsty rn and I can’t ruin Sunsets fluff)

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