#billy lives

He’s ready to throw all caution to the wind and yell the boy’s name at the top of his lungs, when he hears it: The faint sound of Dustin’s voice, pleading and scared, and still much too far away for Steve’s liking.

He doesn’t hesitate for a second, dashes off and in the direction of the voice. And he’s getting closer, can make out the boy’s words. The shaky little “Please, don’t hurt me”. The “I didn’t know” and “I’m sorry”.

Steve crashes into the clearing and stumbles to a halt when he takes in the scene.

Dustin is on his knees, his hands raised in a placating manner and in front of him …

It’s not an animal, that much’s for sure.

Steve’s staring at the back of what appears to be a man wearing a heavily stained hospital gown. His hair seems to have been shorn short a while ago. There’s the beginning of curls on the back of his head, pressed flat against his skull, looking matted and dull.

His naked arms are pale and covered in gnarly white scars. Steve can see it because the hospital gown guy raises his hands as if to strike. And only then does Steve notice the glint of metal reflecting the rays of the now quickly sinking sun.

A knife.

No, a scalpel, crusted with dried blood.

And suddenly the realization hits him that the stains on the scrubs are blood too.

Time seems to come to a jarring standstill. Steve’s breath is so loud, it drowns out all other sounds but the beat of his heart, thundering in his chest. And when the world sets into motion again, he doesn’t hesitate.

Three things happen almost simultaneously next: The guy lets out a whimper-roar that would have confused Steve had he had the faculties to think, and Dustin cowers in fear, his arms raised protectively in front of his face which will do fuck all against a fucking scalpel

And Steve? He takes three big steps that bring him between Dustin and the man, yelling at the boy to “Run! The hell are you waiting for, Dustin?! Just go, go, GO!”.

But Dustin doesn’t move.

And Steve raises his balled fists, ready to fight even if it’s completely futile, thinking that if only Dustin fucking moved …!

The sun is almost parallel with the treetops now, and its dwindling light is blinding Steve, so all he sees at first is a black shape surrounded by a golden halo. But then it sinks further and he makes out a gaunt face, deep purple shadows around the eyes, stark as bruises.

And that’s when it hits him like a stab with the scalpel between the ribs. Only instead of blood, the wound it leaves behind is oozing grief, black and viscous and bitter.

He swallows hard, but his throat is stuffed with barbed wire. It can’t be. It’s abso-fucking-lutely impossible is what he’s seeing.

“St- …“ The voice sounds like a slab of granite dragged over gravel, but still, it’s unmistakable. “Stevie?”

The scalpel drops to the ground. The impact is soundless, courtesy of a thick layer of dead leaves. It’s wrong, Steve can’t help but think. It should be loud. Ear-splitting. Earth-shaking, the way he is shaken. The way it feels like the world is ripped out from under his feet by the realization that he was wrong.

He didn’t know.

He …

He steps close. Slowly. Slowly. Trying to be as non-threatening as possible, like he would, faced with a frightened, hurt animal.

“Hey,” he whispers. “You’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt you. I’m not gonna let them, okay? You’re safe. We didn’t know. But you’re safe now. With me.”

The muscles in his shoulder and neck are so tense it has to hurt, but he’s not flinching away from Steve’s touch. He blinks and his eyes that were more animal than human before seem to clear, and he lets out a broken sob and throws himself into Steve’s arms.

Steve wraps himself around the too thin, violently shaking body.

“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him. 

“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume.   Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song. 

“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”

Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well. 

“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.

“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.

“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk. 

“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh. 

“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them. 

“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house. 

“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around. 

“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic. 

Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room. 

“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach. 

“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy. 

“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable. 

“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly. 

“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially. 

“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain. 

“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face. 

“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow. 

“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. 

“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room. 

“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan. 

“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years. 

“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago. 

“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it. 

“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.

“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.

“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.

This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it. 

“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly. 

“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile. 

“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves. 

Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately. 

“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.

“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking. 

“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.

“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance. 

“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.

“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-

“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door. 

“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed. 

“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans. 

“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind. 

“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow. 

“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes. 

“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters. 

Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism. 

“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder. 

“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too. 

Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.

“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her. 

“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you. 

“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly. 

“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs. 

“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll. 

The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out. 

“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car. 

“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. 

“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return. 

“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word. 

“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth. 

“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes. 

“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.

“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk. 

“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb. 

It turns out that you ARE that bad. 

Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores. 

The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from. 

Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group. 

After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game. 

Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging. 

“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.

“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other. 

“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak. 

“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.

“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him. 

“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe. 

“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders. 

“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.

“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.

“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling. 

“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game. 

“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words. 

“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.

“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question. 

“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on. 

“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath. 

“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission. 

“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.

“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga. 

“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game. 

“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.

“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.

AN: sorry this took so long... again!

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Billy's plush lips sucking in the smoke from his Marlboro reds, broad shoulders, tight jeans. Eddie couldn't help himself from focusing on the way Billy's tongue flashed out to wet his lips as the smoke billowed off into the sky from his nose.

Billy washed into Hawkins and Eddie's life like a hurricane from California. His loud car, crashing music, and Eddie knew just from catching sight of him once that he wanted to know everything about him. He imagined if he got close enough he'd still be able to smell the ocean air on his sun kissed skin. He wanted to know his favorite bands, his thoughts on media, God he'd even sit through talking about cars if it meant Billy would look his way. (It wasn't like he wasn't interested, just that his own knowledge was limited to keeping his dinosaur of a van alive, and he didn't want to sound like an idiot. Not in front of Billy.)

Everything about Billy attracted Eddie to him. Eddie Munson had never considered himself shy. Fuck, he was a bit awkward about social boundaries, but he'd never felt shy before. Then, there were rarely ever new people that came to Hawkins to stay. And Billy made it clear that he had no intention of staying. Hawkins was small, and desperately choking on its shallow gene pool, in Eddie's opinion. Fresh faces were hard to find, especially ones that were willing to look his way, after all.

Billy hadn't been willing. To look his way, that was. He took to the social hierarchy like a wrecking ball, and sent it all asunder. King Steve seemed no more, Tommy and Carol seemed to fight more amongst themselves these days instead of making biting remarks at others. But Billy? He still wouldn't spare a breath on Eddie the Freak Munson.

Eddie had tried once.

He'd been utterly tongue tied in approaching Billy, picking at his sleeve. The two stood awkwardly behind the school dumpsters as they had their smoke break. Eddie's hand shook as he rolled his wrist, searching for the right words that refused to come.

"I really— I mean... fuck— sorry. Hold on. Uh—"

Billy's cool gaze slid up from where his zippo burned the cherry of his cigarette. He flicked his wrist to close his lighter before he tucked it away, utterly unimpressed. Eddie would probably be unimpressed with himself too. But damn; Billy Hargrove was a God carved of marble and gold, blessed by California sun. Eddie was a home grown weed from an Indiana backyard. His brown hair frizzy, unkempt, and his skin a touch oily from his aversion to water. It wasn't like he skipped showers because he wanted to. But in that moment Eddie felt painfully aware that Billy Hargrove was miles out of his league.

"Beat it," Billy grumbled at him. "I'm not in the business of making friends with people like you," he hissed. Those beautiful blues steeling into something dangerous that made Eddie's insides go cold. He swallowed back his words and the shaking in his hand seemed to intensify.

"No um... no that's. Fair. People like me?" Eddie inquired, head tipping a bit. He wanted to know just what part of his stigma had reached Billy first. He'd seen the saints necklace dangling in the open neck of his shirt. "The Satan worshipper? The freak?"

"Queers," Billy snapped. He looked at Eddie like a hostile and wild animal. Like his smiles were more reflective of the animal kingdom than the humanity he bore to charm others. Eddie swallowed dry air and dropped his gaze? Putting his cigarette out under his shoe.

"Right," Eddie affirmed. Billy had seen the way the guy looked at him. It was impossible to miss those dark, chocolate doe eyes when they lingered on him. It tickled the inside of Billy's ribs something real funny when he noticed Eddie in class. Distracted, but gazing his way like he was looking at art in a museum.

Billy was used to people lusting after him. He was hot, and god he knew it. He utilized it more often than he probably should have, but his good genetics in the physical appearance department had gotten him into, and out of a lot of trouble.

But Eddie wasn't lusting.

Eddie looked like he was trying to figure him out. Wondering at him. And that was dangerous. Because Billy had caught himself wondering too. What calloused hands would feel like holding down his wrists, or what those pouty lips would feel like stealing the breath off his. Thoughts like that were what had led to them having to leave California. Thoughts that turned to action, action that had made Neil so angry that he gave Billy two options:

Leave California, and the boy behind...

Or go to Summer Camp.

The two seemed like impossible evils to wrestle with. And in the end, with defeat, Billy had chosen to leave his home behind. It had hurt more that the boy had moved on before Billy could even explain himself. He swore, man or woman, he wouldn't date. Dating just brought trouble. Laying roots was dangerous. Ripping them free just hurt more.

So, he broke Eddie's heart before it had the chance to bloom. So he thought.

Nearing the beginning of November, Billy struggled one morning to light his cigarette. Shivering from the cold, and possibly the pain in his ribs. The pain that curled up through him and reminded him that defiance tasted like iron and copper on every breath in.

"Here—" the voice was steeped in sweet honey. Eddie lit his cigarette for him, and Billy flicked his eyes up to meet with Eddie's.

Eddie cupped his hands around Billy's while the cigarette dangled from his lips. Eddie rubbed his rough hands over Billy's to warm them, breathing softly over them to fight away the frost and chill in the air. Billy stood stiff and still like the early frost had taken root in him.

Eddie gazed up at Billy and offered him a smile, almost sheepish as he stepped away. He mourned the loss of that warmth as soon as it was gone, the fleeting action stirring something inside that Billy didn't want to fan the flames of.

"Shit, sorry," Eddie snorted. "I'm kind of a touchy guy, and uh. Social boundaries? Not my strong suit."

Billy chuffed, shaking his head before he took his cigarette loosely between two fingers and spat onto the pavement.

"Don't fucking touch me, freak," he hissed to Eddie. His frustration sizzling as his voice lacked the ire he wanted it to have. He wanted Eddie to flinch and run. But he didn't. Instead he just... shrugged his shoulders, unbothered, and turned away to smoke his own cigarette.

The next time Billy had contact with Eddie, it happened so quickly that Eddie wasn't even sure what had happened. It was just something small. Something... simple. But as they passed in the hall, Tommy had shoulder checked Eddie hard enough to knock him on his ass, laughing like he was looking for Billy's approval. That was not what happened.

The loud crash against the lockers had startled Eddie back to himself from the position he was in on the floor.

Billy had Tommy pinned to the lockers, speaking to him in a low and deeply venomous tone.

"Hands off, Hagan. The only person who gets to mess with the freak is me," he snarled.

Eddie wondered what that meant, but it felt like stepping closer to a warm fire in a way. He knew Damm well it might be dangerous to get too close. But Eddie didn't mind the way Billy burned. He wanted to be caught in the rush of Billy's storm.

Eddie had held that warm feeling in his chest for a while. It felt like a glow, and it was something that made him look Billy's way, even when he was shoved against lockers, shoulder checked in the hall, or had his books knocked out of his hands. Eddie always caught it.

The smile that wasn't mocking, even when Billy would insult him. It was like he couldn't put the same vitriol in it that he used to.

"Freak" felt more like a term of endearment. "Loser" felt like an invitation to squabble. And God did Eddie take every chance to bicker with Billy Hargrove.

Mid December, their words had turned into a tussle.

"You wouldn't dare—" Eddie had invited, grinning at Billy who had every intention of dumping Eddie into a snowbank.

"I think you need to cool it," Billy had snarked back, looking less than threatening with his red beanie on his head, puff ball and all. It had been Eddie's. The beanie. But Eddie hadn't said a word about the gloves, scarf, and hat he'd left in Billy's locker after he had noticed that the boy from California didn't have clothes suited for Indiana winter.

"Don't do it, Billy," Eddie laughed.

"Do what? I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Billy said back, casual as he took a step closer.

It happened, in a crash of flailing limbs and shrieking laughter. Billy saw Eddie for the first time. He saw the bright smile that was punctuated by dimples on either side. He saw the way Eddie's fuzzy hair fanned out in the snow as he was dumped into the snow bank, and god he couldn't help but notice the way flakes stuck in his eyelashes. His cheeks and ears red from the cold; Eddie wasn't wearing gloves, a hat, or a scarf. He'd given up his warm clothes to keep Billy warm.

And that sure made something inside Billy warmer than the sun in California ever could.

It was mid January when a knock resonated number 12 at the forest hills trailer park. It brought Eddie out of dozing. The alarm clock read an ugly 2am back at him that made him groan.

He pulled himself up and out of bed as the knock grew more irritated and insistent, swiping his hands down over his tired face.

"Jesus christ, I'm coming! Fucking relax!" He bellowed. Eddie shoved his feet into his slippers and shuffled to the front door, ripping it open.

"My hours end at 11 pm on week... nights..." the irritation in Eddie's voice gave way to a shocked whisper as he was met with a ghastly sight before him.

Billy Hargrove standing on his porch, braced against the side of the trailer to stop any swaying. It looked like he had bruises littering half of his face, and Eddie imagined it was worse, with the way the bruises on his neck seemed to bloom down under his jacket.

"Hey," Eddie whispered, unsure if he could say more. When he reached to push a curl out of Billy's face, the man flinched like Eddie was about to put a knife to his throat.

Instead, Eddie put his hand on Billy's shoulder and guided him to come inside.

That was the night that Eddie learned about Neil Hargrove. It was the same night that Eddie slept, curled around Billy. Like he could protect him.

Billy slept with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone, sinking into the scents of cinnamon and cigarette smoke. Eddie was warm, and even though he was more elbows and knees than plush and soft... Billy felt like he fit perfectly with his head tucked under Eddie's chin. Eddie gave good hugs. Great hugs even. Enough of them that Billy felt drunk on the scent of cinnamon and the comfort of his best friend's arms.

They continued as best friends for a long time. Until the Tragedy of Starcourt. Nobody called Eddie. Nobody had thought to at first, really. With the chaos and the news of Russians under the mall— not to mention how the last week or two, Billy had been avoiding Eddie like he was a Germ.

"Get the fuck away from me—"

"Stay away from me Munson."

"Get the fuck out of my face."

"I won't warn you again, if you come near me, I'll break your fucking neck."

Eddie had been sulking about it. Well. More than sulking if he was honest. Had he cried on Wayne's shoulder? Absolutely. Did he get a speeding ticket on his way to the hospital once Max had called him? Absolutely.

Eddie stood in the doorway of Billy's hospital room, looking in on his best friend like the universe had put a knife through his heart. Billy looked barely alive. Fragile.

Eddie was one of the very few visitors that Billy got. Neil Hargrove hadn't shown his face once. Max had told him in a hushed voice that he had packed his things to leave town. Billy was a hero for saving so many people in the mall fire, and Neil still hated him. Didn't want a disabled son.

Billy woke up alone. He wasn't surprised to wake up alone, in a hospital room without a single card on his bedside. Sure, he wasn't surprised... but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. It hurt like being cracked open from the inside out. A glaring statement that told Billy Hargrove:

'You don't matter.'

Even alone, Billy stifled his sobs so he wouldn't be noticed.

"Easy tough guy," the gentle voice came from the doorway, making Billy's heart jump up into his throat. Eddie came in with the nurses, who checked his vitals and pain levels. But Billy barely noticed them. He was focused on the boy whose smile cleansed the tar clinging to his heart.

"Thought I told you to piss off," Billy snorted through his tears, managing a shaky smile.

"I've never been good at listening," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand through Billy's bed messy curls. "Can't shake me that easy, sweetheart. I thought you'd have learned that by now. That grouchy bullshit isn't gonna shake me," he assured. Eddie was determined enough to stick out the hurricane.

"You're annoying," Billy spat at him, pushing his hand away.

"And I'm determined to continue to be," Eddie replied as he snatched Billy's wrist. He slid his hand up to lace their fingers and squeeze.

"Give it time," Billy said, seemingly unimpressed. He refused to look at Eddie, only because the idiot was gazing at him like he was someone precious.

"I've got time," Eddie replied, unshaken.

"Jesus, Munson, why don't you just— just leave me the hell alone?! Why are you always," Billy's breath hitched as his voice broke. Eddie was always there. Like a balm to his wounds. He didn't flinch when Neil beat him. He opened the door or answered the call no matter how late. Eddie Munson was a rock in the hurricane, ready to weather his storm.

Billy thought back to the memories El had shown him in that pit of darkness. His mother, the beach, the waves... and the snowy December day that Billy had fallen in love with Eddie Munson.

Billy didn't resist when Eddie placed his hand on his neck, thumbing his jaw like he was brittle. Fragile. And Billy supposed he was.

"God damn," Eddie whispered, smiling at Billy with tender eyes.

"What? Quit fucking looking at me like that. Like— like... pity. Jesus or like I'm gonna break. I don't need your bullshit sympathies, or your God damn coddling, Munson."

Billy felt like a wild animal, backed into the corner of a cage. Snapping and growling at the tender hands that wanted to hold him. Especially if that monster still lurked inside him somewhere. Ready to hurt.

That fear washed away when Eddie kissed Billy's knuckles, something soft. Endearing. Billy could only hitch a sob as his forehead thudded in to rest on Eddie's collarbone. He squeezed Eddie's hand, and to his relief... Eddie squeezed back. It felt a whole lot like someone saying:

'You matter. I love you.'

“There were freaking bats, dude!” He can hear Munson saying and he doesn’t miss Steve’s indignant huff.

“I nearly got eaten by the fucking bats,” Steve retorts and Billy cracks open an eye to take in the view. He’s never going to get over how fucking pretty Steve is. “Or did you forget, Munson?” To make his point, he jabs a finger at his previously smooth, unblemished abs, now marred by a thick scar that juts out just above his swimming trunks. 

“That’s not adding to your coolness points, dude,” Munson says flatly. “You had to get rescued by Hargrove. No offense,” he says, swiveling suddenly like he’s only just remembered that Billy’s there. Billy raises the beer can at him. Despite a brief, tumultuous period where he thought that Steve and Eddie might be a thing, he and Munson have an understanding. 

“And you got rescued by Chrissy,” Steve counters, throwing his arms up in the air. Chrissy winces, remembering the all too close encounter where they’d nearly lost Eddie. It’s still something she and Henderson don’t quite talk about. “We’re even in losing fights with bats.”

It says something about their lives and their collective encounters with the Upside down that that even makes sense. 

“Yeah, but it was a metal concert…” Munson protests and Billy tips his head back against the sun-lounger and sighs. If those idiots could sit their asses down, this day would be perfect.

“Are you sure they’re okay?” Chrissy whispers and accepts the beer can that he offers her. He never noticed her much at school, just yet another pretty cheerleader wandering the hallowed halls of Hawkins High. But then the whole Vecna fight happened, and it turns out Chrissy is pretty badass. No wonder Munson fell head over heels for her.

Their friendship is odd, he knows. The old Billy from before wouldn’t have looked twice at her. She’s too sweet, too soft, the kind of pure that Billy hasn’t been since he was seven years old. But she’d gone into battle alongside the rest of them and never once hesitated. Not bad for a chick in pleated skirts.

“Steve might push him into the pool,” he says easily, although he’d pay to see that happen. “Let them fight about it. We’re the most badass.” He offers her a fist, which she cautiously knocks. Her fist is tiny compared to his. Hard to believe this chick was able to escape Vecna. But then again, she’d had Eddie to help her. If the call had been between Vecna and Steve, Billy knows who would win every time. 

“I took on a Demogorgon with a nailed bat!” Steve says, furiously stalking back to the cooler and Billy. When he holds out a hand expectantly, Billy presses an ice cold can into it. Once his hand is free, he’s able to slide his fingers along the smooth dips of Steve’s hips, lazily watching as Steve cracks open the tab and takes a long drink. He still can’t quite believe he’s able to do this, to touch Steve so easily in front of other people. And while ‘other people’ still only means the Party and its various associates in private settings, he’ll take it. His feelings for Steve have been brewing ever since that first glimpse on Halloween night and the day he woke up in the Upside Down to see Steve, dripping blood and wielding an oar, was the day that they all bubbled over, spilling into every crevice and chink in his armor. 

“With help,” Munson adds, looking somewhat out of place. While Chrissy is in a cute blue swimsuit, and both Billy and Steve are shirtless, Munson is still wearing a t-shirt, claiming that years of D&D in basements and dark rooms have left him unfit for the sun. Billy thinks that Eddie’s name should have been the Vampire rather than the Freak.

“And the demodogs, and the tunnels, and Russians, and Vecna, and the Mind Flayer,” Steve lists, pushing back the hair that’s fallen in his eyes. “You weren’t there for the dead melty flesh monster! Except you, sorry,” he says apologetically, half turning to Billy. Billy shrugs. As he got possessed and then basically killed by the Mind Flayer, he’s okay with it not counting. Munson can argue all he wants but none of them have Steve’s credentials when it comes to this kind of stuff. It sounds like he’s half the reason all those idiots are still alive. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Chrissy murmurs, delicately wrinkling her little nose. Steve gives a harsh huff of laughter.

“Understatement,” he says dryly, crumbling up the beer can and chucking it in the vague direction of the trash bag. “Hey, I’m going swimming. Come with?”

Billy doesn’t have to look up to know that Steve’s speaking to him. He merely puts down the beer can and hauls himself up. Steve has a thing about his pool, something to do with a girl who died there long before Billy ever set foot in Hawkins. And Steve wants to swim but won’t go alone.

He streaks past Steve and leaps into the pool with a battle-cry loud enough to upset any other nearby Loch Nora inhabitants. The few seconds when he’s fully submerged under the water feel blissful - nothing but the sting of the cool, clear, chlorinated water, the rushing of bubbles in his ears. This isn't Cali, but Steve’s here and it will do. 

One day he’s going to take Steve to the sea.

When he rises to the surface and flicks his wet hair out of his eyes, Steve’s still standing by the edge of the pool, looking unimpressed. 

“Smooth, Hargrove,” he calls out and Billy grins. Steve’s so busy paying attention to him that he hasn’t noticed Munson sneaking up behind him. 

When Steve is inevitably tipped into the water, Billy swims over and pulls him up, sliding one arm around Steve’s waist. Steve spits out water and grabs hold of Billy’s biceps. They float there, in the middle of Steve’s massive pool, and Billy is overcome with the urge to kiss him, onlookers be damned. 

“Why did we invite them?” Steve asks, watching Munson swoop down on Chrissy and pull her, giggling, out of her chair. Billy carefully wipes water away from Steve’s eyes and then pushes his hair back over his forehead. 

“Fuck me if I know,” Billy says, watching Chrissy be pulled into Eddie’s arms and how the light catches her hair when she throws her head back. They both know what it’s like to have something else inside your head, making you feel insane, and he’s glad that she’s happy. “I was all for fucking in a deckchair and eating pizza. You’re the one who wants to be social.”

“I could have invited Nancy and Jonathan,” Steve points out and then laughs at Billy’s face. He’s not ever going to be a fan of Wheeler. 

“We can still have pizza,” Steve says, looping an arm around Billy’s neck and winding his fingers through the damp curls there. Billy snorts.

“Oh, that’s the thing you focus on,” he says and, because he can’t stand it anymore, finally leans in to kiss Steve. Steve’s mouth is soft and warm, with the tang of the beer still on his tongue. They kiss lazily, drifting in the water ever so slightly, pressed together from lips to toes.

Coming back from the dead wasn’t easy but it was fucking worth it for this.

They’re disturbed by Munson taking a giant leap into the pool, a shrieking Chrissy in his arms. The resulting wave swamps them both with water again and Steve slips out of his arms to help Chrissy dunk Munson. Billy swims back down the pool to the deeper water and drifts onto his back, closing his eyes against the intense heat of the sun. When the day has cooled, they’ll order pizza and watch one of the videos that Steve is forever bringing home at Robin’s recommendation. And once Chrissy and Eddie have gone home, Billy can relieve Steve of his trunks and lick all of the salt off his hip bones, swiping his tongue over the scar and up his ribs, until Steve’s too turned on to wait. They’ll probably sleep in a messy pile on the floor again, patio doors thrown wide open to let in the cooler night air, and Steve will get up to make Billy coffee before Byers drops off the brats.

And tomorrow, it’ll be more of the same, watching shrieking teenagers take over the pool while he sits in a chair and admires the muscles in Steve’s long, lean back.

When Billy watches Steve throw back his head and laugh, he can feel the words on his tongue.

He thinks he’s going to say them soon.

Mustering up his strength he turns and comes face to face with, “Billy.” He breathes, and for some reason, tears spring to his eyes. He doesn’t know why- Well that’s wrong. While BIlly was an asshole, he was Steve’s.

And Steve was his.

He feels a bit numb as he stands with the help of his so thought, dead, pseudo-boyfriend. Really, they weren’t ever official, just a few dates and late night sessions here and there. Accompanied by shared trauma of bad dads and broken families. 

There are two collective gasps that break the staring spell he and Billy seemed to be caught in. Instinctively he grabs Billy’s hand tightly, much like he used to do those late nights at the quarry when one of them couldn’t keep it together. 

“Billy Hargrove, man. I thought you were dead.” Eddie says dumbly, walking over to him, reaching for a fist bump. Billy smirks at this, “Hey, Eddie. Guess I just couldn’t stay away,” He purrs, and Eddie’s cheeks go red.

Nancy is the one to break up the reunion, saying they need to get a move on.

“Wait. You’re telling me there’s a way out of here?” Billy asks, and he gets 3 collective nods, while Eddie shrugs, “I dunno, man. This is my first time.”

The ladies lead the way while Steve, Eddie and BIlly walk behind them, bumping shoulders softly as they walk.

“So… How ya been?”

Billy turns his head, “Still as awkward as ever, hey, Munson?” and Steve is thoroughly confused by now. “How do you guys know each other?” He asks, and they both go a little red.

Billy clears his throat, “Well. Sometimes I couldn’t afford to pay for my weed… So I paid him back in… Other ways.” He says, winking at the long haired boy on the other side of Steve. Steve shakes his head.

“Are you telling me, that the weed I gave you a blowjob for… You gave Eddie blowjobs for?”

“Well, Prettyboy. In a way, yes. But he’s a little bit more experienced than you. Do the math.”

Steve stops abruptly as does Eddie, “Wait. You were. You and- King Steve?” Eddie asks, a certain surprised tone in  his voice. “Look at the hair, Munson. You can’t expect a straight man to look this good. Certainly not… Well. Nevermind.” He cuts himself off, and Billy looks at him, now stopped a few feet away. 

“You haven’t told anyone else, have you?”

“This isn’t the time or the place, Bills.” The old nickname slipping out on accident. It’s Eddie's turn to look confused now, “Well, I’m pretty sure we’re all very close to death, so like. Perfect timing to let out your deepest, darkest secrets.” He says.

Steve sighs, “I wasn’t born a boy, Eddie.” 

“Huh?”

“I’m…”

“He’s trans, Eddie. He’s got tiddies.” Billy huffs out, to which Steve gives him a pointed look. 

“Hm. Okay.” He responds. Billy and Steve share a loo, one that says, “Yeah, he’s cool.” and Eddie feels a surge of pride, and also a pang of jealousy at their silent conversation. He wants that, but with who, he doesn’t know. 

Nancy and Robin are a few yards away now, stopped, looking at them. “Congratulations, dingus! Now let's go. We gotta get out of here!” Robin shouts. It’s almost like their feet are stuck to the ground, but they will themselves to move anyways.

It’s a silent agreement that they’ll carry on the rest of the conversation later, about Steve, and also about the budding feelings between… All of them. 

They’ve made it out, and the tearful reunion has finished between everyone. It starts with Billy apologizing, sincerely. Sinclair. Lucas, the way I acted has no excuse. But I want you to know that I’m not actually like… That.” He says with disgust.

“My old man… He made me, and well. I just felt stuck. I never should’ve done that to you. Or you, Steve.”

A silent debate happens between the younger teens, and when all is forgiven, they are quickly reminded of Steve’s injuries. 

He was the last one out, and he’s still laying on the mattress breathing heavily, face scrunched up in pain. Everyone jumps into action. Eddie grabs paper towels and a bottle of vodka from the kitchen, and Billy sits with Steve holding his hand. Robin is there too, trying to help Eddie disinfect her best friend's wounds. 

“Okay, now Stevie. This is gonna hurt.” 

Eddie warns, as he tilts the bottle downwards and the clear liquor comes spilling out. His cries of pain catch the attention of the rugrats, who come over to inspect. Dustin notices there's a fear in his eyes that doesn't quite match the mood. He grazes over Steve abdomen and chest, and notices two faint scars running along the underside of Steve’s pecs. 

He goes to poke at them, “Watch it, Henderson.” Billy says sternly, pushing his hand away, and Dustin is confused. “What are those, Steve?” He asks, worried. 

Now that Eddies is finished cleaning, he helps Steve sit up, “Look. I’ll tell you like I told Bill-” He’s cut off by Robin.

“He used to have tits, now he doesn’t.”

“Robs?!” 

“Sorry, Steve. They’re cool, though.”

He looks around the room, seeing confused, yet understanding faces, “Wait. So..  How did you and Nancy… If you don’t…”

“If I don’t have a dick? Yeah, that was pretty awkward but… We figured it out.” 

He says winking, and the mentioned girl's face blushes bright red. He the younger teens’ faces scrunch up in disgust. 

The moment passes, and it’s daytime. Steve, draped over both Billy and Eddie, wakes up first. He pats the peaceful faces of his boys. He hauls himself off the floor, carefully stepping over the rest of the people who slept at Eddies. Which was all of them.

Steve rummages through Eddie’s kitchen, cheering when he finds a small box of pancake mix. He steals a pan, and begins cooking.

“What a house husband you are, Steve.” 

Robin says, effectively scaring the shit out of him, he turns, clutching his chest. “Jesus Rob. When are you going to learn not to sneak up on someone who just almost died?” He teases, and she rolls her eyes. 

Grabbing a pancake and shoving it in her mouth without any syrup or toppings she goes to sit at the small kitchen table.

“So. What’s up with you and Eddie, and Billy?” 

She hums with her mouth full, crumbs falling out.

Steve’s face twists up in disgust at his friend's bad manners, and he shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. I just. I feel better when I’m around them. Like I can be myself.”

“I think we completely agree, Prettyboy,” Billy’s voice sounds from behind him, turning he sees Billy and Eddie standing there.

“Why’d you leave, you were keeping me warm,” Eddie says dramatically, draping himself over Steve’s shoulders, planting a kiss on his cheek. Steve turns bright red, and Robin takes this as her que to get out of there. 

Her chair scrapes the floor and Billy wastes no time putting himself in it as soon as she gets up. Eddie pulls Steve out of his own chair, sits down and pulls Steve gently into his lap. 

“We gotta talk.” Eddie starts, and Steve taps his fingers nervously against the table. “I don’t quite know… I just, you guys feel right.” He tells them, and he feels Eddie nodding as his hair brushes Steve’s back. He shifts to face him, “You’d be okay… Dating me and Billy?” He asks timidly. 

Billy flashes a charming smile at both of them,”C’mon. Who wouldn’t wanna go out with all this,” He says gesturing to his body. Which, honestly, doesn't look that good after months of being in another dimension. 

Eddie chuckles, chest rumbling against Steve’s rib cage as he leans against him. “I would love to date both of you. If you’ll have me.” He says, polite as always. 

With that statement, Steve presses a kiss against his lips. 

With a sigh he says, “I’ve been wanting to do that since you threatened me with a broken bottle.” He sinks further into his boyfriend's chest. Billy’s face contorts, “I feel like I missed something. But that doesn’t matter, both of you get over here and gimme your lips.” He demands.

Scrambling up, Steve reaches him first, diving into a deep kiss, moaning as Billy’s strong hands make his way to his hair tugging on it gently. 

He feels Eddie press behind them and Steve moves his head down to Billy’s collar bones, pressing soft smooches there, as Billy and Eddie lock lips above him.

He feels secure. 

He feels loved.

But the moment is ruined by demon child Dustin screeching, “Don’t go in the kitchen!”