Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Yeah, I’m not eating that,” Billy says, the first time Susan cooks for him. She’s trying to impress him, hasn’t figured out yet that his dad doesn’t give a crap whether Billy likes her or not, and she’s made a big vegetable stir-fry for dinner.

Billy doesn’t do vegetables.

Susan bites her lip. “Oh,” she says. She casts Neil a worried glance. “Oh, honey, I should have checked what you like—”

“Billy,” Neil says in a dangerous voice. Billy’s definitely going to pay for this later, but right now he doesn’t give a shit. He’s not eating the damn vegetables.

And he doesn’t. Later on his dad shoves him up against the kitchen counter, bangs his head against the wall hard enough to raise a lump. Totally worth it.

They move away from California because Neil gets transferred. That’s what he says, anyway, but Billy’s pretty sure it’s a demotion. Their new place is smaller than the old one, and Neil is a hell of a lot angrier than he used to be. Which is saying something.

Billy’s new high school is smaller than the massive place he attended in Cali. Makes it easier to pull out on top, become the king, oust the current top dog. Billy kicks ass on the basketball court, befriends the coolest kids, attends all the local parties. He takes pride in pushing out King Steve, although it’s a little disappointing how fucking easy it is. Almost like Harrington doesn’t care.

Which is ridiculous. Who wouldn’t care about losing his crown? But in spite of a few grumbles, Harrington seems distracted, distant, like high school is the last thing on his mind.

Billy’s not some jackass bringing in brown bag lunches, which means he has to cadge a couple of dollars a day from his dad for the cafeteria. Neil is tighter than a nun’s asshole these days, but Susan is usually good for the cash, and when he doesn’t have enough, Billy steals it or intimidates it out of younger kids.

The cafeteria serves up burgers and fries and fish fingers and pizza slices, but there’s always a weary dinner lady standing behind a couple of platters of boiled carrots and mixed greens. Billy stays far away, in spite of all the health class warnings about vitamin deficiencies and stunted growth. Billy’s in his prime. There’s no way all that bullshit can really be affecting him.

“You ever want to eat something that isn’t dripping in grease?” Katie Fisher asks him at lunch one day. She’s pissed because he turned her down - she wears glasses and there’s a mole on her chin - and she’s trying to get at him.

He grins at her, taking a massive bite of his burger. “Nope,” he says, through a mouthful of food. Tommy, sitting next to Billy, snickers behind his hand.

“Gross,” she says, swinging her legs out from behind the table.

Billy swallows his food. “Takes one to know one!” he hollers out after her. Katie just gives him the finger as she walks away; a wave of unkind laughter follows her out of the cafeteria.

Yeah, Billy’s an asshole. He’s always kind of known he was an asshole; sometimes he gets nightmares, wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream dying in his throat, and no one ever comes. No one gives a shit, and there’s no one he could tell that would give a shit. That’s what you get for being an asshole. Even Tommy and his sycophantic friends, who ditched Steve in a hot second to buddy up with Billy, don’t really care about him. They just care about what he can do for them.

He knows it, he knows the deal. He provides them with popularity, with a life, and they give him back-up in his reign. It’s not like he needs someone to actually care. That’s how you open yourself up to being absolutely fucked over.

Still, it hurts when he sees Maxine make friends at her new school. He’s always kind of relished the fact that she’s just as unhappy as he is - hates their family, hates their new life. She’s like him, all hard edges, but somehow not like him because she manages to make actual friends.

“They’re nerds,” he sneers at her. “Pathetic. Lame.”

And they are. He’s not wrong. From what he can gather, they’re the science geeks at school, still acting like they’re eight years old instead of thirteen. But Max likes them. She says (to Susan, not Billy) that they listen to her, that they care about her. She smiles, sometimes, on the way home from school, and when Billy demands to know what’s got her grinning like a fucking moron, she just glares at him and stares out of the window.

She says she can tell Lucas anything. There’s not a single person alive Billy feels that way about.

He tries to get her to stay away from Lucas. It’s a little bit because he’s black - Neil’s pretty vocal about that, and Billy doesn’t really have a reason to disagree - but it’s mostly because Max likes him. Because she has a friend, and Billy doesn’t.

Harrington continues to get under his skin, although he can’t explain why. He wants the fight, wants Harrington to hold onto his crown but lose it anyway. But Harrington doesn’t really care. The victory feels a little hollow.

It doesn’t make any sense. Does Harrington think he’s better than Billy? Like Billy cares about the wrong stuff? It’s bullshit, and it bothers Billy, and he wants Steve to notice. He goes out of his way to wind Harrington up, stands near him in the showers, heads straight for him on the court. It doesn’t seem to make any difference, and Billy starts feeling weird about it.

Steve looks good, in the showers.

Then Max goes missing, and Billy gets chewed out by his dad. He nearly cries, but he doesn’t actually let a tear fall. He’s wearing eyeliner, for fuck’s sake. His dad doesn’t give a shit if he cries or not, and Billy would rather channel that energy into coursing, hot, furious rage at Maxine. He doesn’t know where she is, but he does know that the pain in his chest is her fault.

“Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” Harrington says, when Billy finally tracks Maxine down. He’s talking down to Billy. He always talks down to Billy. It’s laughable, really; Billy is better than Steve in pretty much every way that matters. He’s taller, faster, stronger, and he can hit harder.

He does hit harder. It feels fucking good, exhilarating, liberating - like he’s not really here. He’s back in California, where everything was still shit but it was a little bit better than here. For a few moments, King Steve appears, and Billy can see the asshole that Harrington once was. He understands how Steve ruled the school, why Tommy and his friends flocked around him, why the coach thought he was the basketball champion.

What is he now? A fucking babysitter, defending the honour of a gaggle of eight-graders. It’s pathetic.

Billy gets a proper punishment from his dad for beating Harrington up. A proper punishment, according to Neil, involves his belt and Billy’s ass, but since Billy won’t bend over for anyone, it’s more like his back, his legs, and one time his face. Basically anywhere Neil can get to with Billy fighting back. Billy has welts all over by the time his dad has finally exhausted his anger.

It’s probably the worst his dad has beaten him since they moved to Hawkins. He’s clever enough to have waited until the next day, when Susan and Max are out of the house, so Billy has no one to look to for help. Not that he would have looked for help anyway. He has to wear long sleeves to hide the marks on his arms for another week.

Coach Martin isn’t impressed by this whatsoever. “You’re playing skins, Hargrove!” he yells across the court. “Take off the jersey!”

Billy ignores him. He’s also ignoring Harrington, who’s back in school after a couple of days off. That one’s easier, because Harrington is studiously ignoring him right back, but also harder, because there are still thick bruises covering Harrington’s face. The whole school is gossiping about it, but as far as Billy can tell, Harrington isn’t talking. No one has linked it to Billy yet.

“Hargrove!” the coach bellows. He blows his whistle, and the gym class comes to a halt. Billy throws the ball at Tommy, laughs when it hits him in the stomach.

Tommy coughs. “Asshole,” he says, and then does the weird laugh thing that indicates he’s worried Billy will take him too seriously.

The coach walks over. He’s kind of red in the face. “Hargrove, didn’t you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you,” Billy mutters. His cheeks are hot. He hates the fact that he’s wearing long sleeves in freaking gym class. He hates the fact that his shorts only just cover the worst of the bruises on his thighs, and he’s spent most of the class afraid that someone will notice. He hates the fact that he’s had to style his hair to cover the welt his dad left on his cheek. He hates the fact that his whole body is aching.

“So what gives?” Coach Martin presses. “Take your shirt off!”

“Fuck you,” Billy says.

The coach stops in his tracks. “What? What did you say to me?”

“I said—” Billy begins, but suddenly Tommy coughs again, and the coach turns around. Tommy is holding another basketball and rubbing his stomach like someone else threw it at him.

“Asshole,” Tommy croaks. He’s looking at… Harrington?

Steve isn’t even paying attention anymore. He just wanders off the court, and since no one gives a shit about Tommy, that pretty much breaks up the party. Coach Martin glances up at the clock on the wall and sighs.

“Alright, guys. Hit the showers,” he says.

Billy hits the showers. Steve’s already there, washing his hair, and Billy finds himself… looking. Steve has his arms up, his body stretched out and lean, water running down his back in soapy rivulets.

Billy turns away, his throat unaccountably dry.

He goes out with Eliza Wallis, which is a little scandalous because she’s only a sophomore. She wears her hair in ribbon barrettes, but she also wears thick purple eyeshadow and a skirt that’s too short for the time of year. Billy takes her to the movies, and holds her hand. She’s painted her nails a dark blood-red, but she’s also bitten them down to the nub.

“Aren’t you going to eat those?” she asks when they’re at the diner after the movie. She’s talking about the little broccoli florets that came with his meal.

Billy shakes his head, flashes his teeth. Eliza laughs.

After dinner, he gives her a ride home. She smiles and preens a little and he knows he’s supposed to kiss her, but she looks very young and pretty and he doesn’t. She flounces off in a huff.

He’s an asshole. But he’s not that much of an asshole.

He takes Maxine to her fucking Snow Dance, or whatever it’s supposed to be called. She’s silent in the car, impassive, unafraid, the way she has been ever since she stood up to him in Byers’ kitchen. He’s a little afraid of her, and it fucking eats him up inside.

When they get to the school, she hesitates with her hand on the door, and suddenly, he gets it: she’s nervous. Nervous , he wants to scoff. Why are you nervous? You have friends.

She turns to look at him, and he can see it in her eyes. She wants reassurance, wants to know that she… what? Looks nice? Won’t make a fool of herself? He has no idea, and she’s sure as hell not going to tell him. She’s not going to ask, not going to get that final word of encouragement she wants. She’d never ask him for that.

She’d never ask him, and that’s what makes him say it. Perverse, sure, but Billy’s always delighted in being unpredictable.

“Have a good time,” he says, and he makes sure it sounds genuine. “You’re gonna kill it.”

Max looks at him uncertainly. “Thanks,” she says, clearly unsure how to take his sudden sincerity. Then, provocatively: “I think I’m going to dance with Lucas.”

Billy thinks about this, finds he doesn’t give a shit. What’s it to him, anyway, if Max has friends? His life is still equally as shitty either way.

“Okay,” he says. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

For some reason, this pisses her off. “I’m not you,” she hisses, and gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

There are a few concerned parents in the middle school parking lot, so Billy heads to the high school next door instead, leaning against his bonnet to light up a cigarette. He knows Max won’t be done for a few hours, and he’s not necessarily planning on spending all of them here, but he’s got no reason to go home either. Neil is there, probably taking advantage of his absence by boning Susan. He shivers in disgust at the thought.

He barely notices the second car pulling up. He’s facing the wrong way to look at its occupant, and he doesn’t care anyway. He’s lost in thought, wondering why he’s stopped hating Maxine’s little friends, and then there’s a small sound behind him and he turns and Harrington is standing there.

“Billy,” Harrington says.

“Harrington,” Billy replies. He takes a long drag of the cigarette, feeling the smoke curl around his throat. It makes him feel just a little safer, although his hands are still shaking.

Harrington clears his throat. “Were you taking Max to the dance?”

Stupid question, and one that Harrington almost certainly knows the answer to. For some reason, he hangs out with Maxine’s little friends almost as much as she does. Babysitting, she says, although privately Billy has his doubts.

“Yep,” he says. He glances sideways at Harrington. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought Dustin,” Harrington says, like the name should mean something to Billy. When Billy doesn’t respond, he sighs. “You hungry?”

So that’s how Billy ends up at Harrington’s place, being served up pasta and tomato sauce and gross chunks of leek and beans. He really doesn’t get it. The last time he and Harrington had a conversation that lasted this long, they were fighting. Harrington should hate him, should want nothing to do with him.

“I’m not eating this shit,” Billy tells him, pushing the vegetables off to the side of his plate.

Harrington just watches him. “Okay,” he says.

For some reason, Billy feels the need to explain. “I don’t eat green crap,” he says.

“Okay,” Harrington says again, face blank.

“It’s not personal, Harrington,” Billy tells him, and then feels like an idiot for saying it. He takes a large mouthful of pasta, chews aggressively.

Harrington’s face twists, and at first Billy thinks he’s laughing at him, but then he says: “You can just call me Steve, you know.”

“Okay, Harrington,” Billy says.

Harrington sighs, and mutters: “Prick.”

Billy finishes his meal. It’s not bad, to be honest, which makes Billy wonder how often Steve cooks for himself. Which leads onto the question of where his parents are, because lots of the things Billy has heard about Steve from Tommy include parties at his place, and skipping school at his place, and drinking at his place, and never once has Billy stopped to think about how he manages to do all that hosting without his parents getting mad.

Steve’s mouth gets tight when Billy asks. “They work away,” he says.

Billy’s instinct is to grin, make some douchebag comment about how lucky Steve is, but something about the set of Steve’s face stops him. It would be like winning the lottery on Christmas morning if Neil went away with that much regularity, but Steve seems… well, he seems kind of fucking lonely, to be honest.

After they finish eating, Steve washes up the dishes, and Billy surprises himself by picking up a terry cloth and haphazardly drying them. Steve doesn’t say anything, but he gives Billy a little look that tells him he wasn’t expecting it. Billy grins in response.

“Why did you invite me over, Steve?” he asks.

“So you can use my name,” Steve says. He glances sidelong at Billy, leans against the kitchen counter. Billy just waits. “I don’t know,” Steve says.

Billy snorts. “Bullshit.”

“Okay, fine,” Steve says, sounding exasperated. “Your legs.”

For a second - a second that feel weird and squirmy and kind of good in Billy’s stomach - he thinks Steve means that he likes Billy’s legs. Then he realises that’s fucking insane, and he remembers gym class. His legs. His legs, with the bruises and the marks all over them, small and angry and dark and just barely hidden by his baggy shorts.

“Oh,” he says.

Steve scratches his ear uncomfortably. “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, King Steve,” Billy says. He feels unbalanced, like he wants to scream and rage and also maybe burst into tears, all at the same time. He lurches towards the door.

Steve grabs his arm. “Wait,” he says, and Billy stops. His heart is thumping, and he’s desperate to wrench himself out of Steve’s grip, but he doesn’t. He just waits. Like Steve asked him to.

“Harrington—” he says weakly.

“Steve,” Steve says. “Was it your dad?”

Billy bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood. “Yeah,” he says. He doesn’t know why he’s telling the truth, except that he’s so, so tired of having no one. “Steve,” he adds after a beat, because he’s nobody’s bitch.

Steve lets go of his arm, but he’s still standing close. “Because of me?” he asks quietly.

“That time,” Billy says. Steve lets out a long breath, and Billy flushes, because it’s not really true. “Because of me,” he clarifies. “Because of what I did.”

“What you did to me,” Steve says.

Now Billy is starting to feel pissed. “Don’t take this on, Harrington,” he snaps. “You weren’t the one holding the belt.”

“He hit you with a belt?” Steve sounds appalled, like he didn’t see the welts on Billy’s thighs. Billy scoffs. He’s much, much closer to tears than he would like.

“Yeah, and I hit you with a plate,” he says. “Grow up.”

Steve moves a tiny bit closer. Given that he’s already less than six inches away, that brings him extremely close. He says: “Does he do that often?”

“With the belt?” Billy replies. His voice comes out soft, softer than his normal tones. “No. Usually it’s not that bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says sincerely. Billy makes a noise to disagree, but Steve holds a hand up. “Not sorry like it was my fault. Just… sorry that happened to you.”

Billy fidgets. Steve’s regret - Steve’s pity - is awkward, uncomfortable, makes him feel soft and vulnerable inside. “Don’t sweat it, Harrington,” he drawls, but he’s aware that he’s perspiring himself and it doesn’t come out as unconcerned as it should.

“ Steve ,” Steve says patiently.

“Steve,” Billy repeats, more quietly.

There’s a loaded silence. Billy wants to run, but he also doesn’t; it feels weirdly good to have someone who knows. Someone who noticed, and asked, even if it is Steve Harrington. Steve, who Billy displaced and beat up, and who cares anyway.

When they both get in their respective cars to pick up their respective children from the stupid dance, Billy’s feeling slightly lighter. Just the tiniest fraction. When Maxine gets into the car, he asks her if she’s had a good time without even a little sarcasm in his tone.

She looks at him funny. “Yes,” she says guardedly.

“Good,” he replies. He kind of wants to say more, actually, but he and Max have never been like that.

School’s out for Christmas, so Billy doesn’t have any excuse to see Steve. It doesn’t matter. The next time his dad hits him - December 22nd, he can’t remember why - he has something to hold onto, something to get him through. A secret his dad doesn’t know, a little piece of Billy he can’t fuck up. Steve knows.

It’s not a particularly bad one, so Neil hasn’t waited for Susan and Max to be out, or anything. Afterwards, when Billy is in his room checking his head for blood - there’s none, Neil Hargrove tends to be too smart for that - Maxine pushes open his door and peeks in.

Billy lifts his eyes to hers, irritated. “Learn to knock,” he snaps.

Max’s face twists. “Asshole,” she says, but she doesn’t leave. Billy returns to the mirror, keeps checking himself over. He’s never actually lied to Max about what his dad does to him. She’s been in the house for a lot of the attacks, but he’s never been sure how much she knows. He doesn’t tend to cry out, except during the worst beatings - and Neil usually waits for an empty house to dish those out - so he doesn’t know how loud any of it is, really. She might hear the odd thump, but that could be anything. She basically never comes into his room. There’s no reason for her to really know what goes on, especially if she closes her ears.

“You okay?” he asks, when she loiters in the doorway.

She fidgets. “Are you?”

Well, that answers that question. He sighs. He kind of wants to snarl at her, because seriously? Now she cares? But she’s thirteen. She’s not supposed to be aware of this kind of shit. And he’s given her no reason to care.

“Yeah,” he says. “Sure.”

Maxine moves towards him, touches his head. Billy goes still. Her hands are cool, and it feels nice, having them running through his hair. She says: “There’s a lump.”

“Usually, yeah,” he replies. “No biggie.”

She stills. “Oh.” She stops touching his hair. He’s a fucking moron, because he almost asks her to do it again. He doesn’t, obviously. “You’re being nice,” she comments.

“Guess miracles do happen,” he says. She laughs, which is… nice? Billy coughs. His heart is beating too fast, which means he’s going to do something stupid, but it needs to be done. He says, gruffly: “Max. Sorry.”

Max steps back. Not like she’s pissed, but more like she wants to look right in his face. “What?”

“Sorry,” he says again. He can’t quite meet her eyes. “For… everything. Treating you like shit.”

“And my friends?” she asks. Christ, she wants her pound of flesh.

Then again, he has to grudgingly admit she’s justified. “Them too,” he says.

She’s thinking about it, he can tell. She reaches out her hand again, touches his head. “Okay,” she says.

For some reason, that rankles. Like she’s only accepting his apology because he’s hurt. Like he’s cheating, getting her to feel sorry for him. Irritated, Billy pushes her hand away. “Not because of this,” he says impatiently.

“What?” Now Max is looking genuinely confused.

Billy gestures to his head. “This… this bullshit,” he clarifies. “It’s not an excuse. No one gets an excuse for pushing you around. Got it?”

She’s frowning. “Why did you push me around?” she asks. He likes that she says did.

“I don’t know,” he answers hoarsely, which is painfully true.

Maxine says thoughtfully: “I didn’t say okay because of… this.” She wiggles her fingers uncertainly towards his injured head. “I said okay because I thought you meant it.”

“I did mean it,” Billy says.

She nods. “Okay,” she says.

Things are just marginally easier after that. Maxine doesn’t ignore him on the car rides to and from school anymore, and Billy feels a little less lonely. She talks about school, talks about her little nerdy friends, about winning games at the arcade. She talks more than Billy has ever heard her talk, getting more and more confident as time goes on.

Billy doesn’t comment much on her stories, but he listens. He learns that Lucas is cute and funny and has a hilarious little sister. He learns that Dustin is the biggest geek of them all, but he’s also the kindest. He learns that Will is quiet and that Mike is in love with some girl whose name Billy can’t quite get to the bottom of.

“I used to like Mike,” Max tells him. “Ages ago, before I got to know Lucas properly.” Then she gives him that quick, anxious look, the one that tells him she’s worried she’s said too much. Like Billy might flip again, might change back into the wild stranger who used to go round corners too fast just to scare her.

Billy mumbles: “Guess that girl didn’t like that too much,” just to show her she has nothing to worry about.

Max giggles. “No, she hated it. She tried to knock me off my skateboard.”

“Bitch,” Billy says, surprising himself with his indignance.

“It’s cool now,” Max says. “We’re friends. I can’t wait for her to come to school—” She stops talking abruptly, her mouth shutting with a little clacking sound.

Billy frowns. He probably wouldn’t have noticed the slip, but Max has drawn irrefutable attention to it. “She’s not at school now?”

“No-o,” Maxine says, fidgeting in her seat. “She moved away. Mike was real sad for like, a year. But she’s moving back soon.”

“What did you say her name was?” Billy asks.

Max looks out of the window. “Jane,” she says carefully. Then she turns back impulsively. “Don’t tell anyone,” she says. “No one’s supposed to know she’s coming back. I shouldn’t have told you. Mike will kill me.”

Billy laughs. Maxine doesn’t. He says: “What? Why not?”

She bites her lip. “She kind of… has issues. Family issues.”

Something tells him that that’s not the whole story. “And?”

“She’s coming back here to live with her dad, but no one knows yet,” she says. There’s something oddly measured in her voice. “She went through some really bad shit. Her dad hasn’t even told most people in Hawkins that she exists. He didn’t even know about her until, like, a year ago.”

“That’s shitty,” Billy says. He glances at Max. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Max smiles, obviously relieved. “Thanks.”

Sometimes, Maxine talks about Steve. Apparently he’s the group babysitter, ferrying them about from place to place, taking care of them at respective houses - usually Dustin’s - and sometimes even hanging out with them when they already have adult supervision. There’s something a little weird with how much time he seems to spend with a bunch of middle schoolers, especially given he doesn’t even have a younger brother or sister in the group to explain it. But still, Max likes him, and every time she mentions his name Billy feels something fizz in his stomach.

Steve talks to him sometimes in school now. Not often, not enough for Billy to really be able to feel like they’re friends, but sometimes. He nods back, ignores Tommy when he cracks jokes, pretends he’s not looking when Steve showers.

Why the fuck is he looking when Steve showers?

It’s late February when his dad hits him again. It’s been a couple of months, enough time for Billy to stop flinching every time Neil looks his way, and then Susan serves up a casserole and Billy picks out the courgettes.

“Billy,” Neil says. He’s pissed about something else, maybe work, because he came home in a foul temper and Billy has known all evening he’s going to get it.

Sometimes it’s better to know. Better to get it out of the way.

He glances up. “Yeah?”

“Eat them,” his dad intones.

Billy glances down at the bits of greyish gunk on his plate. “I’m not eating that,” he says.

Susan shifts nervously. “Neil, it’s okay,” she says. “I should have thought—”

“No,” Neil says, and his sudden shift into calm is frightening. “You don’t need to apologise for anything, Susan. You’ve cooked a delicious meal, and my son is being incredibly rude.” He glares at Billy. “Aren’t you?”

Billy knows his cue. “I’m sorry,” he says to Susan, as if that will make any difference. Beside him, Max is glancing between the two of them. She’s never quite witnessed this before. Billy isn’t sure why his dad isn’t taking the trouble to hide his ire - maybe he’s just angrier than usual, or maybe he’s picking up on the recent camaraderie between Max and Billy - but it’s obviously unnerving her.

“Eat. Them,” Neil says. His voice cracks like a whip.

So many times, Billy does as he’s told. Cancels a date to look for Maxine. Cleans up a mess he didn’t make. Acts like Max’s personal taxi service. But he doesn’t eat vegetables. He never has.

“No,” he says.

Susan lets out a startled cry when Neil bangs his open hand on the table, making the cutlery rattle. “Eat them!” he bellows.

He’s already pushed too far. There’s no going back now. “No,” he says.

“Let me make one thing bloody clear,” Neil hisses. He’s half-standing now, facing Billy down across the table. “You eat the food Susan has kindly made for you right now, or I will make sure you regret it.”

Billy stands up slowly. “I’m not eating them,” he says. He’s kind of impressed with how calm he’s being.

It seems to be getting under his dad’s skin. He moves around the table, his face furious and menacing. Billy stands his ground, although his heart is pounding. Every instinct is telling him to run, and really there’s no good reason why he isn’t doing it, except that he’s a proud motherfucker.

“Neil—” Susan whispers.

“No,” Neil says to her. “He has to learn, Susan. He has to learn!” Each word is emphasised by a crashing footstep, until he’s standing right in front of Billy. Towering over him, heavyset and angry. But when he speaks, his voice is even. “Last chance, Billy. Eat the vegetables.”

As if he won’t get punished even if he does eat them at this point. “No,” Billy says.

Neil hits his face, a heavy clap of a strike that sends him reeling. Billy stumbles, but doesn’t fall. He glances at Maxine. She’s watching, horror in his eyes. He manages to smile at her. It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.

His dad hits him again, twice more. Billy can feel the imprint of his hand rising in a bruise on his cheek.

“Stop it!” Max bursts out, as if unable to help herself.

Neil rounds on her. “Don’t interfere!” he yells, and then turns back to Billy, hitting him again. This time, Billy falls, the side of his head catching on the edge of the table as he goes. Max screams; Billy is kind of wishing he could pass out, but instead he just lies on the floor while his head pounds and his dad looks down at him.

“Neil!” Susan cries.

His dad is breathing heavily. “Get out,” he says. “Get out of my house.”

“Dad—” Billy croaks.

There’s a scrape of a chair. “He’s supposed to take me to see Dustin,” Maxine says, which is a total fabrication but Billy’s not exactly going to argue it. She kneels beside him, and he feels her small hand in his hair. There’s not really anything wrong with him. He could stand up if he wanted to.

He just doesn’t want to.

“Okay - just - car keys - get out!” Neil pants.

Billy doesn’t wait to be told twice. He heaves himself up, pulling himself up on the chair and then the table. Susan looks terrified; he wants to scream in her face. What have you got to be frightened about? Do you think this is the worst it gets? But then, she probably does think that. It’s certainly the worst she’s seen.

Max guides him towards the front door. She’s breathing hard, and Billy realises vaguely that she’s crying. She says, her voice sniffly and young: “Can you drive?”

“Sure,” Billy says. He feels a little dizzy, but he’ll go careful.

He actually feels better behind the wheel. He can calm his racing heart, concentrate on the road and nothing else. He pulls out of the drive carefully, ignoring the sticky wetness on his face. It’s not that bad. He’s had a hell of a lot worse.

“Where are we going?” he asks Max, but she’s in no condition to answer. She’s sobbing, her pale little body shaking, and Billy has no idea how to make it better. Doesn’t know what to say, except that he’s sorry, he’s sorry, he’s so sorry she got tied to his stupid fucking life, and he can’t say that anyway. He’s never been any good at apologising.

So he drives somewhere he can feel safe.

Max has pretty much cried herself out by the time Billy slides the car onto the drive. She wipes her eyes, looking out of the window. “Where are we?”

Billy is saved the trouble of answering when Steve opens the front door and comes out to meet them.

“Billy?” he calls cautiously, as if it could be someone else.

“Steve!” Max cries, and she’s out of the car in a moment. Billy feels like his stomach has dropped to the floor. Of course she feels safe with Steve. Not with him. He wants to just drive away, turn around and never come back to Hawkins.

Max flings herself into Steve’s arms, which is awfully familiar for a babysitter, and Billy gets out of the car slowly. Steve is obviously confused, but he hugs Max back, his eyes on Billy.

“What’s going on?” he asks, so Billy steps closer, lets Steve see the blood on his face and the handprints on his cheeks.

To his credit, Steve doesn’t freak out. He just takes them inside, gets Max a glass of water, and gives Billy a pack of frozen peas to hold against his head while Steve cleans off the dried blood. He doesn’t ask what happened. Doesn’t ask how Billy is doing. Just wipes away the crust of grime and sits with the pair of them while Billy presses his aching scalp to the ice.

“You want to stay tonight?” Steve asks Max. She bursts into tears all over again, and he pats her hand a little awkwardly. “I could get my walkie if you want to talk to Lucas?”

She nods tearfully, although Billy doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Max goes with Steve to the lounge, but Billy stays in the kitchen. He wants to sleep, wants to drift far away and never go back home. But he can’t.

When Steve comes back in, he’s alone, and carrying a couple of Advil. When he puts them on the table, Billy swallows them gratefully. Steve says: “I could call Hopper. We go back.”

“Won’t make a difference,” Billy says. “But thanks.”

Steve frowns worriedly. “You sure?”

“One, he hates me,” Billy says, ticking off his fingers. “Two, even if he didn’t hate me, my dad is my dad and the cops haven’t stopped him before. Three, even if Hopper could somehow buck the trend, I’m a minor and I’ve got nowhere to go. Seriously, Harrington, I appreciate it, but I just gotta stick it out until summer.”

“What happens in summer?” Steve asks.

Billy shrugs, and then wishes he hasn’t as his wound begins to bleed again. “I finish high school,” he says. “Get a job, move away from this goddamn town. Never look back.”

Steve nods, and they talk about inconsequential things after that. Things like college, and jobs, and Steve getting over Nancy Wheeler since she left him for the creeper kid. Steve laughs when he describes Byers that way, and then looks a little guilty for doing it.

Max comes back in the room after about an hour, eyes dry. Billy puts her to bed in Steve’s guestroom, strokes her long red hair until she falls asleep. He’s kind of taken aback by the surge of protectiveness that rises in him when he looks back at her from the bedroom door. Maybe because she defended him earlier, with his dad, and that was really fucking brave. Maybe it’s because he’s finally turning into the right kind of brother.

He and Steve go to sleep in Steve’s bed, and it’s not as weird as Billy thinks it will be. Steve strips down to his boxers, which is distracting for no good reason, but then he throws on an old grey t-shirt, and Billy is able to recollect himself. He puts on the sweats that Steve gives him and huddles around one of Steve’s pillows. It’s dark out, but the sound of Steve’s quiet even breathing lulls him to sleep.

After that it turns into something of a routine. Neil lets him back in, of course - can’t not, a fine upstanding citizen like himself - and doesn’t bother to ask Billy where he spent the night. Maxine tells Susan she slept over at Dustin’s, so Billy figures his dad probably thinks Billy slept in his car. Nobody mentions what happened at dinner again, but Susan never serves him vegetables again. He’ll take that as a win.

As the weeks wear on, his dad gets back into the lazy pattern of hitting Billy whenever he’s pissed about something he did, and harder if he’s had a bad day. When that happens, Billy gathers himself together, gets in his car, and drives over to Steve’s place.

Steve gives him Advil, mops up any blood, and gives him frozen food to hold against his bruises. They don’t talk about Neil. They just… talk, about whatever the fuck pops into their heads. Billy chain-smokes cigarettes in Steve’s backyard, gazing out across the pool into the woods, and lazily discusses Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Reagan’s re-election, or what a fucking loser Tommy H is.

He’s surprised to find that Steve is interesting, and funny, and also kind of a tough guy. He’s oddly fond of Maxine’s little group of friends, although he blushes when Billy ribs him about it.

“Babysitter supreme, right?” he says, and Steve’s cheeks go pink.

“They’re good kids,” he says.

Billy laughs, takes a drag of his cigarette. “Don’t really know them, but Max raves about them enough.” He laughs again. “Especially Lucas, jeez.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty tight,” Steve says comfortably. “Dustin was jealous for a while, but—”

“Wait, Dustin?” Billy says. “Your little fave? I thought it was Will… no, Mike, it was Mike who liked Max.”

Steve looks astonished. “Mike never liked Max,” he says, with such certainty that Billy is a little offended on Max’s behalf.

“She liked him, she said,” he says. “I figured it was mutual.”

“No way,” Steve says decisively.

Billy tries to remember what Max told him. “Because of Jane, right?”

Steve stills. When he speaks, his voice is wary, all the previous humour gone. “Max told you about Jane?” he asks slowly.

“She let it slip, and then there was this whole thing about a secret dad, or something,” Billy says. He frowns. “What’s with this Jane chick? Max was weird about her too.”

Steve seems to be wrestling with something. “I guess you’ll find out soon enough,” he says at last. “Jane is Hopper’s kid.”

Billy blinks. “Hopper? As in the Sheriff?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “He only found out about her recently.” He hesitates, like the words are sticking to his tongue. “Her... mom… kept her hidden. Did some pretty nasty stuff to her. Hopper has had to fight… fight social services, or whatever, to get her.”

“Pretty scandalous for Hawkins, Indiana,” Billy says.

For some reason, Steve seems to find that funny. “You’d be surprised,” he says.

At school, Billy just kind of stops being friends with Tommy and his posse. Mostly because they were never really friends to begin with, but also because Billy is tired of caring about being popular. He still goes to parties, because drinking makes him feel better about his shitty life, and he’s still a star player on the basketball team, and girls still look him up and down. He’s not like Steve. He still cares about being cool in his own eyes.

But he stops pushing around younger kids in the cafeteria. Stops listening when Tommy makes fun of people in front of him. He just can’t be bothered with that shit any more, can’t be bothered to take out Neil’s crap on unsuspecting high schoolers.

Tommy hangs around like a fly for a little while, but eventually he moves on, takes his little crew with him, and Billy is left with a bunch of half-acquaintances who still talk to him at parties but pretty much leave him alone at school. Which is just what he likes.

Steve introduces him to Nancy Wheeler and her freaky little boyfriend, both of whom he is apparently and weirdly still friends with. They all sit together at lunch - Nancy, according to Steve, has also lost her seat at the popular table since she started dating Byers, although it doesn’t sound like she was ever that interested in it to begin with. So one day, Billy and Steve head over to sit with the two of them. Billy is nervous, though he won’t admit it.

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, because apparently he knows anyway. “They know we’re friends.”

“Okay, Harrington,” Billy says, and Steve laughs. Billy raises his eyebrows. “What?”

Steve has a nice, uncomplicated grin on his face. “Nothing,” he says. “It’s just, you always call me Harrington when you’re nervous.”

“Fuck off,” Billy says, and Steve laughs again. Loudly, and fully, which is kind of the most epic sound Billy has ever heard. He likes making Steve laugh.

Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with him?

When they get to the table where Nancy and Jonathan are sitting, he’s surprised to see that they don’t look totally hostile. Nancy is definitely wary, but she doesn’t say anything as Billy and Steve sit down opposite her.

Jonathan is downright friendly. “Hey,” he says. He has an awkward smile, and keeps glancing at Nancy. Looks like Billy isn’t the only one who’s nervous.

“Hey,” Billy says guardedly.

Jonathan’s eyes flicker across to Steve this time, and then back to Billy. “I guess we have Algebra together,” he says.

“I skip class a lot,” Billy says.

Jonathan laughs. “Yeah, I get that,” he says. “Me too.”

They do manage to get a better conversation going, mostly driven by Steve and Jonathan. Nancy keeps shooting Billy tiny suspicious glances when she thinks he’s not looking, but he can live with that. From the details he’s gleaned from Steve - they don’t talk directly about that night back in November - he’s pretty sure Jonathan and Nancy were out on a date when Steve was babysitting and Billy beat the crap out of him. He can’t really blame her for being wary of the guy who beat up her ex-boyfriend while he was kindly babysitting her little brother and his friends so she could go out with her new boyfriend.

Actually, there’s pretty much nothing that isn’t fucked up about that.

He does find it pretty weird how involved Steve is with both Nancy and Jonathan’s little brothers, given that he’s not with her anymore. Billy gets that she got him into the babysitting gig, but now it’s like he’s stayed friends with her brother after losing her. Steve gets antsy and defensive whenever Billy brings it up, though, so he’s stopped making a thing of it.

At one point, Jonathan says to Steve: “Are you still coming over after school?”

“Sure,” Steve says. Again, weird. “Will’s going to be over with Mike, right?”

“ Yes ,” Nancy says through gritted teeth. “Are you sure I can’t come with tonight? All the kids are going to be over. They’re going to be a nightmare.”

Jonathan laughs. “Yeah, sorry, no girls allowed.” It sounds odd in his gentle tones, but Nancy just shakes her head and takes a sip of her soda.

Steve looks at Billy. “I guess Max is going tonight too, right?”

“Nope,” Billy says. “She told me about it, but apparently she’s had enough Dungeons and Dragons.” He glances between Jonathan and Nancy. “No offense, but your brothers are nerds.”

“None taken,” Nancy says firmly. Jonathan coughs, and she laughs, patting his hand. “You’re a different kind of nerd.”

Steve says: “Are you and Max hanging out tonight, then?”

“She’s hanging out with Jane,” Billy tells him. “Girls’ night, or something.”

Which apparently the wrong thing to say. Nancy chokes on her soda, and Jonathan drops a spoon on the floor. Billy stares at them, but they’re not looking at him; Jonathan has a wide-eyed, incredulous kind of look on his face, and Nancy is glaring daggers at Steve.

“You told him?” she hisses. “Seriously?”

Steve, halfway through taking a bite out of an apple, bites his lip instead, twisting the apple around in his hands. He glances uncomfortably at Billy. “I told him how Jane is coming to live with her dad,” he mumbles, a little defensively.

“Steve!” Nancy says. “You can’t just go around telling people—” She breaks off.

“Telling people what?” Billy says.

Nancy gestures towards him furiously. “See! Now he’s asking questions!”

Jonathan puts a hand on her shoulder. “Nancy, calm down,” he says. “It’s okay. If Steve trusts Billy…”

“I don’t trust him,” she says icily.

“Ouch,” Billy says. It really does sting a little, but he can’t exactly blame her.

Steve sighs. “Look, everyone is going to find out that Hopper is Jane’s dad eventually,” he says. “You know how shit like that spreads. Billy won’t tell anyone, anyway.”

“It helps that I don’t really care,” Billy puts in helpfully, which is true. The most he knows about Chief Hopper is that he’s been in the back of his car once and he’d rather not repeat it.

Nancy is still eyeing Steve narrowly. “You told him that Hopper is Jane’s dad,” she says. “What else did you tell him?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, too quickly, which makes Billy wonder what else there would be to tell. “Just that she’s been through some shit, and not to say anything to anyone.”

Billy frowns at Nancy. “How do you know about the Chief’s secret daughter?” It’s the first time he’s thought to ask the question, but now that he thinks about it, he can’t fathom a single connection between Hopper and any of the kids or teenagers who apparently know this massive thing about him. He doesn’t even know how Steve found out.

“Through my mom,” Jonathan answers, at the same time as Nancy says: “Through Mike.”

“Wow,” Billy says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Not suspicious at all, guys.”

Nancy gives Steve a look. “See!” she says again.

“Nancy, it’s fine,” Jonathan says soothingly. He switches his gaze to Billy. “The Chief told my mom about Jane when he first found out about her. They used to go way back, and he needed someone to talk to, I guess.”

“And your mom told you?” Billy says disbelievingly. There’s more to this bullshit story; he can tell by how fucking uncomfortable Steve looks.

Jonathan shrugs. “Jane is a little… wild, I guess,” he says. “She met Mike when she ran away from… from...”

“From her mom,” Steve supplies.

“Right,” Jonathan says. “She ran away from her mom a couple of times. That’s how she met the party.”

“The party,” Billy repeats.

Steve laughs unexpectedly. “Yeah. Max is the zoomer.”

Billy looks between him, Jonathan and Nancy. Nancy’s eyebrows are set in a thick line; Jonathan has his customary openly trusting expression, and Steve is just sitting there looking slightly amused. “You do realise I know you’re bullshitting,” Billy says flatly.

Steve barks out a laugh. Nancy hisses: “Steve!”

“Oh, lighten up, Nancy,” Steve says. He sounds weary, suddenly. “He’s going to find out next time, anyway.”

“Next time?” Jonathan says. He looks oddly frightened, like Steve has said something bad. “What next time?”

Steve laughs again, but this time the sound is anything but happy. “Guys. There’s going to be a next time.” When Nancy and Jonathan just stare at him, he says: “Seriously? The kids talk about it all the time. Nobody thinks things are staying quiet, not with El—”

“Steve,” Nancy interrupts firmly. “That’s enough.”

Billy raises his hands. “Hey, don’t worry about me,” he says. “Keep your secrets, I don’t care.”

And he doesn’t care - about the secrets themselves. But he does, oddly, care that there’s shit Steve doesn’t feel like he can share with Billy. It’s only been a few months, but he’d kind of thought they were friends. Steve knows about what his dad does to him, for fuck’s sake. And given that Max is apparently in on this big secret, it seems ridiculous that he, the older brother, doesn’t know.

But whatever. Steve doesn’t seem like he wants to tell, as much as he seems to think Billy will find out eventually. He raises the subject again later, when Nancy and Jonathan aren’t around, but Steve just shakes his head.

“I literally can’t tell you,” he says. “It’s not my secret, and… Well, Christ, you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

“Try me,” Billy says, but Steve bites his lip and looks away. And maybe Billy is going soft - no, scratch that, he’s definitely going soft - but he just doesn’t want to pressure him. He’s not sure why, but there’s something about Steve that screams out that he doesn’t need any more pressure in his life.

Still, it’s kind of awkward with Steve for a little while after that. Not enough to stop them hanging out, though - Billy now eats with him, Nancy and Jonathan at least three days a week at lunch, and he’s becoming weirdly good friends with Jonathan as well. Nancy still glares at him occasionally, and shuts everyone up if they so much as mention Jane, but it’s not so bad. Better than he had it before, for sure.

“You going to eat that?” Jonathan asks him one day. Billy’s busy picking the lettuce and tomato out of his burger, putting the pieces neatly at the side of his tray.

Billy looks up, but before he can answer, Steve laughs. “Billy doesn’t eat vegetables,” he says, and Billy’s stomach swoops.

So there’s that.

It’s starting to become a little bit of a problem. Billy is noticing Steve in really weird ways these days, especially as the weather starts getting warmer and he stops layering up so much. March creeps into April, and Billy notices that Steve has strong, almost brawny arms. He tans easy, already going a little brown in the weak spring sunlight, and he stops using quite so much product in his hair. He’s fast on the basketball court, and sometimes when Billy stays over, he lies awake in Steve’s bed, listening to him breathing, his heartbeat unaccountably fast.

He finally meets the mysterious Jane over Spring Break. Nancy and Jonathan are off together doing dorky date things, and apparently the gang - the party - want to go bowling. Steve, as always, is accompanying them in his role as babysitter..

“You should come,” he says to Billy, who snorts.

“Come supervise a bunch of eighth-graders getting themselves high on sugar?” he scoffs. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass, Harrington.”

Steve laughs, doesn’t bring it up again, but then the day before the proposed excursion Billy’s dad knocks him into a wall for answering back, and he takes off as usual to spend the night at Steve’s. His dad, in another classic example of his total lack of interest in anything concerning Billy’s welfare, has failed to ask him once in the last few months where he spends the nights he’s not at home.

When Steve has cleaned him up, and they’re sitting in the lounge with a pack of frozen carrots held against Billy’s face - he’s going to have a bruise on his cheek, for fuck’s sake - Steve says: “Are you sure I can’t do something about this shit?”

“Nah,” Billy says. “But thanks.”

“Just wish I could help,” Steve says, sounding frustrated. It’s a good look on him.

Billy feels a swell of emotion, which is not typical for him. “You do help,” he says. Steve smiles, but Billy leans forward. “Seriously, Steve. You don’t have to do this shit for me. Thanks.”

Steve coughs. His cheeks are a little pink, which is… cute. For fuck’s sake. “No problem,” he says, shyly.

“Can I… do something?” Billy asks awkwardly. “To say thanks, or whatever.”

Steve smiles. “Come bowling tomorrow,” he says.

So that’s how Billy finds himself sprawled out on one of the plastic seats of the local bowling alley, waiting with Max for Steve to get there with the other rugrats. Max is practically hopping with excitement.

“Jane’s coming today,” she tells Billy. Interesting. “The Chief says she can go out now. She’s supposed to take it slow, but she’s joining ninth grade in September, so she should start socialising. It’s going to be awesome!” She grins, and then mutters under her breath: “Finally, I won’t be the only girl.”

Billy is curious to meet Jane, but he’s also nervous to hang out with the rest of the so-called party. He’s seen them since… well, since he threatened the hell out of them and beat Steve to bits in front of them, but he’s not really spoken to any of them, and he has no idea what they think of him. Of particular concern is Dustin, whom both Steve and Maxine have described on more than one occasion as protective.

Still, when he finally spots Steve coming in, he makes himself tip his head back lazily, grinning at Steve as he picks his way through the tables in the alley’s cafeteria. He looks like a harried single mom, surrounded by a gaggle of children and carrying a large backpack slung over one arm. Billy files it away to mock him with later.

“Hey, Max!” Lucas says, pushing his way through the other children to stand in front of her. They both look awkward, and then Lucas darts forward and kisses her cheek, lightening-fast.

Max pushes him away, but Billy could swear she’s blushing. “Oh my God, smooth,” she says. Her voice is different than Billy is used to. She’s acting cool , and it’s basically the funniest thing Billy has ever seen.

He can sense the other kids watching him, but he just stays sitting where he is, and eventually they stop caring and just say hello to Maxine. Billy’s eye is drawn to the one he’s not familiar with - a girl, a tangle of brown curls around her face, with big dark eyes. She’s holding Mike’s hand. This must be the famous Jane.

She seems genuinely pleased to see Maxine, giving her a hug and smiling widely. Billy hadn’t been sure; given what Max had told him about Mike, he’d been worried it was that fake friendship thing he’s seen girls do before. But then, Max seems pretty happy sitting next to Lucas as they all start putting on their ugly-ass shoes.

Steve nods to Billy with a smile. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Billy returns. His stomach fizzes. He ignores it.

They bowl. Billy’s actually pretty good at it; the hand-eye coordination needed isn’t too different to basketball, even though he’s rolling the ball instead of tossing it. None of the kids really talk to him, but they don’t particularly talk to Steve either. They’re too busy chatting amongst themselves, discussing obscure science shit that Billy doesn’t get (or want to get) and teasing each other about the score of the game.

“Yeah, this is my Spring Break,” Steve comments, but he seems happy, contented, and Billy feels like he’d do almost anything to keep it that way.

Soon they’re engaged in their own conversation, talking about anything the way they usually do. Steve’s worried about college, worried about having to work for his dad, and worried because he doesn’t have Nancy to go over his application essays any more.

“You’ll be fine, Harrington,” Billy says bracingly. “Wheeler will check any essay you like and you know it. After that, all you gotta do is ace the interview, and let’s face it, you’ll knock it out of the park. This shit comes easy to you.”

“Sounded almost like a compliment, Billy,” Steve says with a grin, and Billy pushes his shoulder playfully.

He looks over at the kids, slurping soda through plastic straws and yelling. “You actually like this, don’t you?” he says reflectively.

Steve follows this line of his gaze. “Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

Billy doesn’t say so, but he kind of gets it. There’s something very chilled, very easygoing, about just sitting back and watching the kids get so involved in their game. It makes him forget about all the shit waiting for him back home.

He says: “Got to be better than whatever Wheeler’s doing with Byers, right?”

Steve laughs. “Probably in some darkroom somewhere,” he says. He grimaces. “Making out.”

“Ew!” That comes from Mike. “That’s my sister! And Will’s brother!”

“Making out,” Steve says again. “Swapping spit. Sucking face.” He bursts out laughing at Mike’s horrified expression. “Doing what you do with El- with Jane,” he adds slyly.

Jane giggles. Mike turns bright red.

It occurs to Billy that Steve must be pretty much over Nancy, to be joking like this about her and Byers. Somehow, it’s a pleasant thought, though he doesn’t really know why.

They get food, sharing fries and chicken nuggets in the cafeteria while Dustin bemoans his loss at bowling and Steve attempts to console him. Billy watches them, just a little on the outside but still enjoying himself way more than he thought he would; he’s particularly curious about Will, the quietest of the group. He’s heard through the town gossip mill about Will’s disappearance a year ago, and although Steve hasn’t talked much about it, he did say that Will went through a lot.

The kid is definitely withdrawn, staying out of it when Mike and Lucas start throwing fries across the table at each other, but he doesn’t seem unhappy. He drinks his milkshake noisily, laughing when one of the fries hits Steve by accident. He’s a lot like Jonathan, really, and right now, like Billy himself - content to sit in the fringes of the group.

Jane is sitting next to him at the table, with Steve on his other side. While Billy is watching the other kids messing about - and he’s counting Steve in that, because he’s acting just as childishly - Jane turns to look at him. Her eyes are oddly piercing.

“Hurt,” she says quietly.

Billy blinks. “What?”

She reaches up and touches his face. It didn’t bruise as bad as he’d feared - just a red mark, and not that visible if you’re not looking for it. Which she obviously has been. “You’re hurt,” she says again.

“Jane,” Steve says sharply. When Billy turns, he realises the whole table has gone quiet. They’re all looking at him and Jane.

Jane looks serenely back at Steve. “Steve,” she says. There’s a placid passive aggression in her voice that makes Billy snort.

She turns back to him, touching his cheek again. Her little hand is cool. For some reason, Billy’s heart is thudding, his eyes prickling. Jane says: “Alone.”

Billy leans back automatically, but before he can say anything, Max, sitting across from them, says angrily: “No, he’s not.”

“Max,” Jane says gently. “Friends don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Max starts hotly. Lucas puts his hand on her arm, and she subsides. “I’m not lying,” she says, more calmly this time. “I’m just…”

Jane smiles. “Protecting,” she says.

“Jane,” Steve says again.

She turns that odd, haunting smile on him. “You’re protecting too,” she says.

“Okay, what’s she talking about?” Lucas says. “Protecting who? What’s going on?”

Steve says, quickly: “Nothing. Come on, guys, I’ll buy you some ice cream.”

“Steve,” Jane says. “Friends don’t lie.” She looks meaningfully at Billy, who’s had just about enough of being obliquely discussed like he’s not sitting right here.

He claps his hands, loudly. “Okay, enough already,” he says. “I don’t know what freaky shit you’re all smoking, but the riddles are getting fucking boring.”

“Tell him,” Jane presses.

Billy opens his mouth to ask what, exactly, he hasn’t been told - what it is that they all know, but he doesn’t - but before he can speak, there’s an explosion of noise at the table in response to her words. It would almost be comical, if it weren’t total outrage at the idea of anyone telling Billy fucking anything .

“No way,” Dustin says loudly.

Lucas is nodding. “We can’t trust him! And guys, we’re literally not allowed to talk about it!”

“Yeah, we signed the shit!” Dustin says.

“If El says to tell him—” Mike begins.

Lucas scoffs loudly. “Oh, yeah, of course you’re siding with her,” he says. “She doesn’t know - she wasn’t there—”

“He beat Steve up!” Dustin exclaims.

“Yeah, I know!” Mike says. “I was there!”

Max says crossly: “That was ages ago, and they’re friends now.”

“Guys,” Steve says. When that gets him exactly nowhere, he yells: “GUYS!”

Slowly, the shouting subsides, although Lucas and Mike are still glowering at each other. Jane looks worried, edging her chair a little closer to Mike, and Steve is running a hand through his hair. Billy feels weird, like he’s not actually here, listening to this bunch of kids who clearly despise him talking about him.

“Let’s not ruin the day,” Will says sensibly.

Billy says jerkily: “Whatever your deal is, I don’t give a shit, if that helps. You don’t have to tell me shit.”

He’s not sure if he means it, but he doesn’t want to ruin the day either. His head is hurting, the way it always does when he’s holding back tears. There is no fucking way he’s going to fucking cry in front of this crowd.

Max says: “Can’t we just—?”

“No,” Dustin says emphatically.

“It’s four to two,” Max says obstinately.

Lucas makes an irritated noise. “Will hasn’t voted.”

“Doesn’t matter if he does,” Max says.

“Hey,” Will says mildly. “I’m on your side!”

Max smiles triumphantly. “Five to two.”

“Still don’t care, by the way,” Billy says, raising his eyebrows. He’s still feeling pretty shaky, but it’s kind of nice that Maxine is defending him, especially after the history they’ve had. And if Dustin and Lucas are the anti-Billy votes, that means Steve’s in his corner as well. That feels pretty good.

“See, he doesn’t even want to know,” Dustin says, gesturing. “You think he’d even believe us? Someone like him?”

“Hey, knock it off,” Steve says. Dustin turns betrayed eyes on him.

Billy sighs. “Don’t fucking fight,” he says, because it’s getting ridiculous. “Look, I don’t give a shit, alright? I don’t care about your stupid secrets—”

“Friends don’t lie,” Jane says solemnly.

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine, I’m curious, I’m fucking human, but I don’t care enough to sit through this shit.” He looks frankly at Dustin and Lucas. Both of them glare right back. “I get it, you hate me,” he says. His stomach is churning, but he’s not going to turn back now. “I would too, if I were you. I hurt you and I hurt Maxine. And honestly I’d rather she had friends who don’t just let that shit go.”

“Billy…” Steve says.

Billy ignores him, addressing Lucas. “I’m sorry I went for you,” he says.

“We’re still not going to tell you anything,” Dustin says mistrustfully. Lucas doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah, I got that,” Billy says. “That’s not why I’m saying this.”

Lucas moves then. “So why are you?”

Billy shrugs. “Because it’s true? You guys have your lame party all set up, or whatever, it’s insane for you to be fighting because of me.”

“The party isn’t lame,” Dustin begins, but then Lucas reaches across the table, all slow, and holds out his hand. Dustin squeaks in utter outrage.

Billy takes Lucas’ hand, and shakes it.

“Friends!” Jane says happily.

They get ice cream, and Billy swallows down the lump in his throat along with a large mouthful of raspberry ripple. He’s aware that Steve keeps glancing at him, but he doesn’t look back.

There’s something he needs to do. Something he hasn’t done yet. But he can’t do it here at the fucking bowling alley.

Things should be awkward after that, but amazingly, they’re not. He supposed they are just kids, after all; they’re easily distracted, and conversation soon devolves into an argument over the most recent Dungeons and Dragons campaign. They’re all loud and energised and enthusiastic, and Billy finds himself laughing at their discussion, at Will’s impressions of Mike, at Jane’s bubbly giggles.

All in all, it’s an oddly pleasant outing. Not how Billy had expected to spend a day of his Spring Break.

Afterwards, he drops Maxine at home, and then heads straight over to Steve’s. They haven’t actually said that they’ll be hanging out this evening, but Steve is so used to Billy coming over unexpectedly at this point that Billy’s sure he won’t even bat an eyelid. He’s still dropping the gang off with their respective parents, so Billy parks up and waits, smoking a cigarette out of his window.

He knows what he has to do. He actually can’t quite believe he hasn’t done it yet, after all this time.

When Steve gets home, Billy can see a smile on his face at the sight of him. His stomach flips over. He kind of wishes it would stop doing that.

“Hey,” he calls out, tossing his cigarette.

“Hey,” Steve answers. “You staying tonight?”

Billy hadn’t thought about it. “I guess,” he says. His mind is racing. It’s just a simple question, one Steve has asked him a thousand times before, but somehow it feels different this time. Maybe it’s because this time, Billy isn’t coming with a cut lip or bruised face. Steve is just asking him to stay for the pleasure of his company.

They head inside. Billy says: “Wasn’t expecting that to be a good time.”

Steve glances at him, smiles. “They’re good kids,” he says. He’s said it before, and Billy is always struck by it; Steve just genuinely enjoys hanging out with the party, enjoys taking care of them and making sure they’re having a good time. He’s not embarrassed by it, doesn’t make excuses for it - just does it.

Billy kicks off his shoes, puts his feet up on the couch. Steve rolls his eyes, sitting on the nearby armchair. The afternoon is fading into evening now, and there’s something comfortable and familiar about just being here with Steve, enjoying Steve’s company.

That is, until Steve says hesitantly: “I’m sorry they went after you like that.”

“Not your fault, Harrington,” Billy says breezily. Then, more sincerely: “I get it. I deserved it.”

“Not any more,” Steve insists, which is nice to hear. Really fucking nice. Billy’s heart skips a beat.

He could just leave it at that. He knows Steve isn’t expecting anything else, knows that Steve is content to be friends with Billy just the way they are now. But it doesn’t feel right to do that. Kind of like Billy is cheating, getting away with something he shouldn’t.

“Steve,” he says, and Steve turns his face to look at him. Something serious must show in Billy’s eyes, because Steve immediately sits up to pay attention.

He says in a half-whisper: “Yeah?”

Billy sits up as well. This feels too important to say with his feet up.

“Steve, I’m… I’m really, really fucking sorry.”

Steve blinks. He looks oddly surprised, as though he’d been expecting Billy to say something else, but not in a bad way. He says, slowly: “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”

“Yeah, I do,” Billy says. He swallows. “I don’t even know why I… I hit you. I hurt you, I did all the shit my dad does to me, and I don’t know why. I don’t fucking know why.”

He feels breathless and choked up and it fucking hurts, because he’s being truthful. He doesn’t know why he turned into his dad in that moment, and he hates himself for it.

“It’s okay,” Steve says. Billy bites his tongue, hard, and Steve gets up and comes over, sitting on the couch with Billy. “Billy, it’s okay. Seriously. I stopped thinking about it a long time ago. You’re not that guy any more.”

“What if I am?” The words tumble out of Billy’s mouth before he even knows he’s thinking them. There it is, out in front of Steve: his worst fear. Maybe he is just his dad, destined to turn out that way. Maybe that violent red-hot part of him that frightens him so badly is just the sum total of who Billy Hargrove is.

Steve touches his shoulder. “You’re not,” he says, and he sounds so certain, so sure, that Billy almost believes him.

“My dad—” Billy begins, and then stops, biting his lip.

“Your dad has never apologised for anything,” Steve says. There’s a hard, angry quality in his voice, but it’s not directed at Billy. “He thinks he’s right to do what he does. I’m not saying you weren’t an asshole, Billy, but you’re trying to do better. That’s what makes you different than him.”

He says it easily, firmly, without stumbling on a single word. He’s not just saying it for the first time. He’s thought about it before.

Billy says: “Is that why you’ve been okay with being friends with me?”

“Yes,” Steve says.

There’s a silence, then. Billy feels lighter, so much lighter, like a weight has been lifted from his heart. He feels warm and happy and in exactly the right place, here on Steve’s couch with Steve sitting a few inches away. He lets himself smile, a real smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

Steve smiles back. He’s still got his hand on Billy’s shoulder.

When he moves, it feels slow, though it can’t really be all that slow. His face comes closer to Billy’s, and Billy knows it means something big, but he doesn’t know what it is. Steve’s hand slides up to grip the back of Billy’s neck, and Billy feels a shiver running all the way from the hot pressure of his hand and down his spine.

His heart is beating triple time. Steve’s nose nudges his, and then their lips are touching.

Billy freezes.

He shouldn’t be surprised. He knows that, straight away; Steve couldn’t have made it clearer what he was about to do. And yet, in spite of the way Steve touched him, in spite of coming so close, the first brush of Steve’s mouth against his own is still a heart-stopping shock.

It doesn’t feel bad. It’s just… a shock. And Billy doesn’t know what to do with it.

Steve pulls away almost immediately. Billy’s just sitting there, frozen, eyes wide, and he doesn’t move even as Steve backs up. Steve is looking worried, and kind of distraught, actually.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

Billy can’t speak. He can still feel the ghost of Steve’s lips pressing against his own.

Neither of them say anything for a moment. Steve is biting his bottom lip, anxious eyes on Billy, and Billy is just sitting there. Steve isn’t touching him any more.

Hesitantly, Billy reaches out a trembling hand, and rests it on Steve’s knee.

Steve looks down at the hand. “Billy,” he says softly.

Billy draws in a deep, shaky breath. “Steve,” he croaks.

“Are you alright?” Steve asks, and it’s just so typical Steve, isn’t it? Asking if Billy is alright, checking in on Billy, being concerned about Billy, because everything about him is selfless and generous and good, and... shit.

Shit, because that’s what Billy has been feeling, all this time. Every time his stomach swoops at the sight of Steve’s smile, every time his heart skips a beat when Steve looks at him, every time he feels an unaccountable burst of happiness when Steve says something nice about him… Like his body has been sending him a thousand tiny messages to let him know that Steve is important, and only just now has he learned how to listen to them.

And… and in the showers, when Steve is standing strong and lean with water cascading down his body and Billy can’t look away. There’s something there, too.

“You… kissed me,” he says. Because that’s what it was. A kiss.

Steve looks anxious again. “Yeah,” he says.

“Oh,” Billy says. Steve kissed him. Steve kissed him. Is that what all these feelings bursting out of Billy’s chest mean? That he wants to kiss Steve? And if that is what it means… then does that mean Steve has some of the same feelings about him?

“Billy,” Steve says. “I can’t… I can’t tell what you’re thinking.” He chews his lip some more, and yes, Billy definitely wants to kiss him. “Is… Should I not have kissed you?”

Right, because Steve has no idea about any of the revelations currently exploding in Billy’s head. He’s just done something incredibly brave, because that’s what Steve does, and he doesn’t know how Billy is going to react.

Well, Billy is just going to have to do something brave right back.

He leans forward, and kisses Steve again. This time he’s prepared for it, for the softness of Steve’s lips, for the way it makes his stomach jump and somersault inside him, and he closes his eyes as Steve starts to kiss him back. He can feel Steve’s hand sliding up to wrap around the back of his neck again, and he sinks into it.

Steve’s mouth moves, and opens a little. Billy’s not quite brave enough to slip his tongue into it, the way he would if he were kissing a girl, but he does let the kiss deepen, squeezing Steve’s knee. He’s totally focused on the moment, aware of every tiny touch of Steve’s hand on his neck, every minute motion of his lips. His head is clear of anything else. It’s blissful.

When they draw apart, Steve’s eyes are hazy, his smile intoxicating. Billy wants to touch him all over.

He settles for taking Steve’s free hand, interlocking their fingers together.

“Whoa,” Steve says softly.

Billy grins. “Yeah.”

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Steve says shyly. Billy raises his eyebrows, and he smiles. “Well, I might have been hoping.”

“You should have said,” Billy says. “We could have done it way sooner.”

Steve shrugs. “I guess it crept up on me.”

He makes them dinner later, rice with chicken pieces, and Billy grins goofily at him across the table. He adds peas and broccoli to his own meal, and Billy’s looks kind of bland in comparison. Tastes good, though. Steve’s not a bad cook.

“Your parents shouldn’t leave you alone so much,” Billy says.

Steve’s eyes tighten, and Billy holds his hand. They’ve both been lonely, in very different ways.

That night, when they lie in bed together, Billy turns on his side to face Steve. His eyes seem very bright in the moonlit room. Billy feels warm, totally settled, and exactly where he’s supposed to be. He kisses Steve again, wraps him up in his arms, and feels the heat and the strength of his body pressed up against him.

“Billy,” Steve murmurs, fingers trailing down Billy’s chest. Billy shivers, capturing Steve’s mouth in his own, and they kiss and kiss and kiss until they fall asleep.

Things should be very different after that; Billy feels like something major has shifted in his life, yet somehow not much has actually changed. He and Steve spend every second of spare time they get together, but at this point they were pretty much already doing that. They sit close together, eat together, talk about anything they feel - but they’ve always done that.

The only thing that’s really different is the kissing. Billy’s heart flutters every time Steve leans in, every time his warm hand touches Billy’s face; kissing still feels like an electric shock, pulsing through him and making him want to cling to Steve and never let go.

Which he does, for the rest of Spring Break. They go for walks in the woods, holding hands, and then they head back to Steve’s place and lounge about on Steve’s couch or on his bed, going outside to sit by the pool every so often so Billy can take a smoke break. They kiss until Billy’s mouth is aching, and they fall asleep holding onto each other in Steve’s bed.

It’s pretty fucking idyllic.

Billy is nervous about going back to school, but it doesn’t really change anything. They eat lunch together every day, the same as they always have, and sometimes Nancy and Jonathan join them, and that’s normal too. In gym class Billy is as competitive as ever, except that afterwards he doesn’t feel so weird about sneaking glances at Steve in the showers.

“Billy,” Steve says to him seriously, one bright morning in early May. They’ve been doing their thing for about three weeks, and it’s still delicious and new and makes Billy feel safer than he ever has.

Billy turns his head. He’s lying in Steve’s bed, lazy and contented - and bare-chested. That’s a new thing they’ve started doing, sleeping without their shirts on, and it feels pretty awesome when Steve curls up against him and their hot skin presses together. “Yeah?” he says.

Steve chews his bottom lip. “I want to tell Nancy and Jonathan,” he says.

Billy half sits up. They haven’t talked about telling anyone about what they’re doing. Maybe because they haven’t really talked about what it is they are doing, what it means. He says cautiously: “About… this?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “They’re my friends. I don’t want to hide it.”

Billy thinks about this. Steve is pretty much his only real friend, so he can’t really draw a comparison, but he thinks he gets it. “Okay,” he says.

“Okay,” Steve says, and then they kiss, and Billy gets lost in the warm beautiful haze of it all.

But Steve doesn’t get a chance to tell Nancy and Jonathan that he and Billy are something more than friends. He tells Billy he doesn’t want to talk about it at school, so they wait for the next weekend. Billy stays at Steve’s five nights out of seven these days - his dad, predictably, doesn’t question it - so he’s with Steve on the Friday night when he gets the call.

It’s less a call, really, so much as a crackle of static over the walkie talkie that Steve carries everywhere with him. Billy has grown tired of making fun of him for always being so readily available to the kids; Steve isn’t embarrassed by it, and there’s something oddly endearing about his stubborn attachment to the walkie. But Billy has always assumed that that’s all it is.

“Steve!” It’s Dustin’s voice, agitated and almost afraid. Steve had been on the couch with Billy, hands stroking through Billy’s hair as they kissed lazily, but he’s up in a second.

He snatches the walkie from the side table. “Dustin?” he says urgently. “What is it?”

“It’s happening,” Dustin says. “El had the dream again.”

El. Billy’s heard that name before, and he thinks it has something to do with Jane, but Steve is evasive when he asks questions, and he’s never cared enough to press. But here it is again, and this time it’s doing something to Steve. He’s gripping the walkie tight, and his face is drained of colour. Billy sits up, concerned by the look on Steve’s face.

“Have you spoken to Hopper?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Dustin answers. “We’re meeting at Will’s house.”

Steve nods, although Dustin obviously can’t see him. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, I’m coming round.”

Dustin says: “Awesome.” He sounds relieved.

Steve switches the walkie off, turns to Billy. It feels weird, to be shut out of something so obviously important, but Billy tries not to care. It’s not about him and Steve.

He says: “You’ve gotta go, right?”

“Come with me,” Steve says. He sounds oddly determined.

Billy blinks in surprise. “What?”

“Please,” Steve says. “I don’t care what the kids say. You’re part of… part of me, now.”

Billy’s not expecting the wave of emotion that crashes through him when Steve says it. It’s not like whatever secret Steve has with the kids has been affecting him, exactly, but to hear him say something so affirming, so close to the fierce feeling Billy has himself… it makes him feel a warmth he’s never had before, not in his whole life.

“Okay,” he croaks.

Steve kisses him then, holds him tight and desperate and kisses his mouth. Their bodies lock together, and Billy suddenly wants to do more. Wants Steve to touch him, wants to run his hands over Steve’s body, kiss every inch of his skin, touch him in places he’s never touched another boy. It’s not that it hasn’t occurred to him before, of course, but the desire absolutely envelops him now.

Steve cups his face. “Later,” he says softly, “later, we’ll—”

“I’ll hold you to that, Harrington,” Billy says.

They drive out to the Byers’ house, out in the ass end of nowhere. It makes Billy feel oddly nervous, watching the familiar trees sail past outside; the last time he was here, he and Steve were in a very different place than they are now.

“This is all going to be a shock,” Steve warns him, as they approach the house. “You’re not going to believe it.”

Billy raises his eyebrows. “Mysterious,” he says.

“I mean it,” Steve says.

“I know,” Billy says. Steve touches his hand, briefly, across the gear stick.

There are several other cars outside the Byers’ property; Billy recognises Nancy’s prim little Austin, parked up next to the Chief’s cruiser. There are also three or four bikes, lying abandoned underneath the window. The kids must all be here; Billy wonders if that means Max as well.

As they reach the door, Steve hesitates, glancing at Billy. “Uh,” he says, and stops.

“I’m guessing they won’t be expecting me,” Billy says.

Steve bites his lip. “Don’t take it personally,” he says, which isn’t particularly encouraging. He knocks on the door.

Billy squares his shoulders. When the door opens, he’s prepared for a look of disgust - but he’s faced instead with a slight, soft-faced woman with a tangle of dark untidy hair around her thin face.

“Steve,” she says, and there’s a smile on her face as she does. Steve leans in, and she hugs him. It all happens so quickly and so naturally that Billy is left blinking. Then she turns to him. “You must be Billy,” she says.

Billy shoots a quick look at Steve. “Uh,” he says. “Yeah.”

She flashes him another quick smile. “Jonathan’s told me about you,” she says. “I’m Joyce.”

“Hi,” Billy says awkwardly.

“Come in, come in,” Joyce tells them, and he and Steve follow her inside the little house. It looks… well, a lot less nutty than the last time he was here; no weird drawings on the walls, for starters.

The living room is crowded. The Chief is standing over by the couch, and Billy feels his heart flip over; he has a healthy respect for law enforcement, because getting in trouble with the police means getting in trouble at home. His fingers flex by his side, and he wishes Steve could hold his hand.

Dustin, predictably, is the most appalled by Billy’s presence. “What’s he doing here?” he demands of Steve, almost as soon as they’ve stepped through the door. All the kids are here, and Nancy and Jonathan are sitting together on the couch. Billy has definitely crashed a full-on team meeting, whatever that means.

Steve lifts his chin up stubbornly, which is so fucking cute that it kind of makes Billy want to kiss him. “I invited him,” he tells Dustin.

“We agreed we weren’t going to tell!” Dustin argues. He flashes Billy a deeply mistrustful glare.

“Dustin,” Jane says firmly. She’s sitting on an armchair, squeezed in next to Mike. “Friends don’t lie.”

Dustin says balefully: “He’s not my friend.”

“Well, he’s mine,” Steve tells him sharply.

Unexpectedly, Jonathan moves forward. “He should be here,” he says. He smiles at Billy.

So they let him stay, although Dustin is clearly unhappy about it, and Billy finally, finally gets the lowdown on everything that’s happened in Hawkins over the past couple of years. It comes in fits and bursts, because there’s a new threat that takes priority over explanations, but it’s a relief to finally understand.

At first, he doesn’t believe it. Jane gives herself a nosebleed proving it to him.

“The Upside Down,” he repeats faintly.

Max nods at him. He doesn’t quite like her being here, some deep buried protective instinct rising within him at the idea of her being in danger, but she’s been involved for a long time and Lucas has always managed to keep her safe. She says: “I didn’t believe it at first either.”

Billy opens his mouth, closes it again, and then finally says to Will: “So you - you were possessed?”

“Yes,” Will says quietly.

“And before that you were kidnapped?”

Jonathan shifts a little. Will says: “Yes.”

Billy shakes his head. “Tough year for you, huh?” Mike frowns, and Joyce’s face twists, but Will laughs, and then looks surprised at himself.

“He’s been so brave,” Joyce says softly.

Billy turns to Jane. “Your real name is… Eleven?”

“Not a name,” she says forcefully. “Jane.”

“Right, okay,” he says. He looks at Steve. “So after… after I beat you up, you got up and just… went to set fire to… what was it again?”

“The Mind Flayer’s hive mind,” Dustin says impatiently, as if Billy is being slow.

Steve scratches his head, which means he’s feeling uncomfortable. “The kids made me do it,” he says. “I woke up in your car.”

“I was driving,” Max says proudly.

It’s way too much to take in. But it feels kind of nice to be included, as fucked up as that is. They don’t settle much regarding the new threat that evening; it turns out to have something to do with dreams that Jane has been getting, and they all talk over each other and try to analyse what it means. Billy doesn’t exactly have much to participate, but he’s glad to be there, sitting next to Steve and being a part of his crazy life.

When they finally leave, Billy goes over to shake Jonathan’s hand. Partly because this is his home, and it seems polite, but mostly as a means - however poor, to thank him for sticking up for Billy. Not many people have done that, in Billy’s life.

“It’s all pretty crazy, huh?” Jonathan says, smiling that unassuming gentle smile he has.

Billy laughs shortly. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he says. He hesitates. “Thanks, man.”

Jonathan doesn’t ask him what for. “I’m glad you and Steve are happy,” he says quietly.

He doesn’t expand on it, but he shoots Billy another quick smile as he and Steve head off.

Steve makes dinner back at his place. He stands in his kitchen, cutting up pieces of carrot and broccoli - for himself, of course, not Billy - and Billy sits at the table and watches him. He should be freaking out at everything he’s learned. He should be freaking out at the idea that there’s something from another dimension possibly out to get them. But he’s not.

“Steve,” he says, and Steve half turns, a jar of pasta sauce in his hand.

“Yeah?” He looks young and attractive and Billy has a pulse of desire in his heart just looking at him.

He swallows. “Thanks for taking me there.”

Steve puts down the pasta sauce, coming over to kiss him. His mouth is soft and warm, and his hands smell like tomato. Billy slides his arms around Steve’s waist, fingertips digging into the pliant flesh of his ass. They’ve not done any more than kiss so far, and even then Billy’s been too afraid to use his tongue. He’s not sure why, except that it feels so real and so beautiful that he’s afraid to break it.

He’s not afraid now. He lets his tongue slip into Steve’s mouth, and Steve responds with a low groan, hands tangling in Billy’s hair as he kisses back.

He pants: “Billy - Billy—”

“Is this alright?” Billy asks, and Steve laughs breathlessly.

“Yes,” he says firmly, and kisses Billy again.

They’re both out of breath by the time they pull apart, and Billy’s shirt is unbuttoned all the way. Steve is wearing a sweatshirt, but Billy has had his hands underneath it, roaming across Steve’s chest. He’s still nervous to voice some of the things he thinks about when he touches Steve - things like seeing Steve naked, properly naked, and being allowed to look at him. Things like touching himself while they’re kissing. Having Steve’s mouth lower down on his body.

Yeah, he’s nervous. But he’s not afraid anymore. They have time.

Whatever the Upside Down throws at them, they’ll face together.

Steve has gone back to his cooking, although he keeps glancing back to grin at Billy. Billy watches his deft nimble hands preparing the vegetables, cutting them into neat bite-sized pieces, arranging them on a plate. He’s beautiful.

He looks back again, catches Billy staring. “You want some carrots?” he asks, holding up a slice.

Billy meets his eyes, feeling completely content. He’s exactly where he needs to be.

“Yeah,” he says. “Alright.”