#s1!steve

Brat Steve chapter 1, in which Steve thinks he can get away with everything

Brat Steve Chapter Two, in which Billy's being a cliche (c), or how it's all started

(crank up the volume towards the end)

"Harrington, right?"

The party is buzzing, screams and laugh and music, someone's falling into the pool - but the husky voice is clear and confident.

Steve inhales the smoke, trying not to cough, and looks up from the lounger to the smirking blond hovering over him. Billy Hargrove. Hawkins High new celebrity, fresh from California, tan and curls and open shirts and - is that an earring?

Steve doesn't like him. He so doesn't.

"You're crashing my party, man. Pretty sure you know my name," he squints, putting his best I'm-nonchalantly-being-an-asshole-to-you face and waving the cigarette in hand. "Didn't manage to catch yours though."

"I really fucking doubt that," Californian dickhead laughs - so deep and hoarse that it vibrates somewhere in Steve's chest. And then he does this fucking thing with his tongue and teeth.

Steve feels his cheeks heating up. It's probably all the beer's fault. He sets his jaw, glaring up at Hargrove, who only seems to become more smug.

Steve opens his mouth to - he's sure - absolutely destroy the bastard, yeah, but -

"Lickin' wounds, Stevie boy, huh?!" Tommy stumbles out of nowhere, and it looks like even his freckles are drunk as hell.

Steve frowns harder, now glaring at Tommy. He still sees Hargrove in the corner of his eye though. The blond looks a weird mix of annoyed and curious.

"What's wrong? Lil Stevie crying over Wheeler jumping Freak?" Tommy's every single bit a happy hyena. "In your own house, man! Wanna check if they're upstairs yet?"

Steve ignores the sinking feeling in the stomach and gives Tommy his bitchiest smile.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Carol got so tired of your poor game she doesn't let you fuck her even at the party?"

The speed with which Tommy's smirk disappears is really fantastic. Steve feels proud.

Tommy opens his mouth to retort, but gets tugged away by no one else than Carol herself. He squeezes the girl's ass, making her giggle, and looks at Steve over his shoulder winningly before disappearing in the crowd.

Steve rolls his eyes, huffing, and hears a raspy chuckle.

"Mouthy."

Billy's watching him, eyes sparkling with something Steve doesn't understand.

"Fuck off, Hargrove."

"Ooh," the blond looks like he just found a treasure. "And also a little liar."

Steve turns red. He just wants to shove the bastard into the water.

"M' supposed to care?" he jumps to his feet, nearly falling into the pool himself, but that's whatever.

He also catches Hargrove's tiny gesture - the outstretched arm, as if to guard Steve from actually falling - but then the blond snatches his cig, so it probably was it.

"What the-" Steve tries to get it back, but misses and gives Hargrove a little shove in the chest. His fingers catch the hot skin and the cool metal of the necklace. The guy loves jewelry.

Billy's eyes darken, lips getting into a thin line instead of the smirk. He grabs Steve's wrist, making him gulp and scrunch his nose from the harsh grip. Beat - and the blue eyes sparkle again, the hold on Steve's wrist becoming firm, but almost gentle.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Hargrove grins wide, never letting the wrist go no matter how hard Steve tries to pull. "Someone has to put you in your place, pretty boy. And it surely isn't that Whee-whatever bitch."

"No one can put me in my place," Steve seethes, hissing out and getting pissed half on Billy, and half on his own body, which stupidly decides it's time to get hot all over.

That seems only to please Hargrove more, if the glint in his eyes and this teeth-licking thing are saying anything.

"Wrong tense. You also need a lesson in grammar. "

"Huh?"

"And eloquence."

Steve blinks once, then twice, but nothing makes sense yet.