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The twelve-year-old can read the book from another dimension.
Billy's not actually sure what he expected, honestly. Of course Jane can read the book - she's just weird enough that he should have known that would outweigh her age. There's something about her that just strikes Billy as strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. Just in that way where sometimes he forgets that she's a child, and sometimes he thinks she forgets too. She's very outspoken and opinionated, and Billy likes that about her.
He thinks she'd get along well with Max.
Speaking of Max.
After he and Steve get back to their makeshift camp and Steve's passed the book off to Jane, and after Steve has submitted to Ms. Byers' and Nancy's mothering (which apparently has begun to extend to Billy), Billy grabs Steve's arm and pulls him aside.
"I sincerely hope you're going to kiss me again, Mr. Hargrove," Steve says, at the same time that Billy opens his mouth.
Billy closes it again, thinks about what Steve just said, and then looks around them at the people in the camp. Hopper and Ms. Byers are leaning over the book with Jane and Mike. Nancy is cleaning her shotgun with Jonathan at her shoulder, Kodak around his neck. The rest of the kids are still on the ship, presumably out of harm's way. The only one who's even noticed that Billy and Steve are standing awfully close together is Buckley, and she's standing next to a table with a map with something like a knowing smirk on her face. He doesn't think there would be an issue, but he's been surprised before, unpleasantly so.
He looks back at Steve. "I very much want to," he admits, and feels a smile play at his own mouth. "But Buckley is looking at us."
It's a question, even if it's not phrased as one exactly. Steve understands it, though, and his eyes crinkle in a coy little smile. "I assure you," he says, "not a single person in this camp will care if you kiss me. Least of all Robin."
Billy hesitates still, but only for a moment. Then he's leaning in and pressing a kiss, gentle and sweet, to Steve's mouth. He's trying to keep it as chaste as he can, mindful of the fact that there are still people around - even if they're people who don't mind one man kissing another - but Steve's hand curls in the front of his shirt, fingers brushing the skin where the buttons have come undone in their mad dash out of the temple and through the jungle. He forgets himself for a moment, then, and the hand he'd placed so carefully on Steve's arm finds purchase on the back of Steve's neck instead as he deepens the kiss in response to the way Steve's lips part on a sigh.
Steve is the one who pulls back, and Billy can't catch himself before chasing Steve's lips with his own. Steve blinks at him, flushed and bright-eyed, and Billy makes himself a promise right then and there that the very moment they have even five minutes of privacy, he'll see how far down Steve's body that beautiful red blush goes.
Billy finds his voice. "Satisfied?" It comes out rough and low, and Billy very carefully loosens his grip on the back Steve's neck, rubs his thumb over the skin and little curls of Steve's hair at the base of his skull.
"Mr. Hargrove," Steve says, and then stops. "Billy." He uncurls his hand from where it's tightened in the once-white cotton of Billy's shirt. He pets the shirt, as though to smooth where he's wrinkled it and only succeeding in sending little sparks of sensation rippling through Billy's body. Billy gets the idea that Steve knows exactly what he's doing. "I don't think I'll ever be completely satisfied when it comes to you." Steve swallows, and sounds a little vulnerable when he adds, "I think I will always be left wanting more."
Christ, Billy wants to keep him. Desperately. Now that he's given into the urge to kiss Steve, Billy's not sure he'll ever be able to let him go. "I would love nothing more than to make it my life's work to keep you satisfied."
Steve's tongue darts out to lick his lips, and ruins all his good work with Billy's shirt by gripping it in his fist again. "I'll hold you to that," he says, and looks very much like he wants to yank Billy close for another kiss.
For his part, Billy desperately wants to be alone with him in this moment, and that resolve he made to himself just a moment ago is quickly setting itself into stone. "I never make a promise I don't intend to keep," he says, and very suddenly remembers why he pulled Steve aside in the first place. "I need to talk to you about my payment."
Steve pauses, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Of course," he says after a moment. "I'll still pay you, that's not-"
"No, no," Billy interrupts. "I just... I want to change the terms of my employment. I don't need to be paid, exactly. I need a connection in Boston. Or New York, or wherever. Somewhere very far away from Indiana."
Steve searches his face. "What kind of connection, exactly?" he asks. His confusion is apparent, but he's willing, Billy can see that much.
"Someone who can help me make someone disappear," Billy says, and then rolls his eyes as Steve gives him an alarmed look. "Not like that! It's my step-sister, Maxine. She needs to get out of my father's house. She's about the same age as Jane, and she's spirited. He'll..." Billy pauses, swallows. He moves his hand from Steve's neck to Steve's arm. "I need her out of there. Her father is somewhere on the west coast, but I'm not sure how to find him just yet, so the east coast with me will have to do. My father is not a nice man, Professor." He catches himself and corrects, "Steve."
Steve's expression melts into something like understanding. "Neither is mine," he says. He lifts the hand that's not still holding onto Billy's shirt to gesture at the camp and, Billy guesses, all the people in it. "I know some people. Those people know other people. We'll get it done."
Billy nods, feels the knot in his chest loosen just a little. It's a start.
And then Steve adds, "Assuming we all survive, of course. And that the world is still the world we know, and not merged with a terrifying dimension and monsters are running rampant in the streets."
"That's not reassuring," Billy says. "You're terrible at reassuring people, you know that?"
If Billy's not mistaken, Steve looks a little sad for a moment. Then, like a cloud passing by, the moment is gone, and Steve is smiling again. "I am a realist, Mr. Hargrove."
There are many things he could say, from provocative and teasing to bawdy and vulgar. What he settles for, though, what comes out of his mouth is, "My name is Billy."
Steve pauses again.
Billy leans in, presses a kiss to Steve's mouth again. This kiss he manages to keep short and chaste, at least until he's murmuring, "As much as I like the way 'Hargrove' sounds when you say it like that, my name is Billy. That's what I want to hear come out of your mouth." He pulls back just a little, winks when he adds, "And not just in bed."
The blush he gets for that is delicious, spreading across Steve's nose and cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears.
"I hate to interrupt."
Just like that, Billy is suddenly very aware that they are not in any sort of private space. He jerks away, tenses and pulls his hand back as though his hold on Steve is burning him. Buckley holds her hands up just as Steve makes a small noise of protest.
"Nothing to fear from me, Hargrove," Buckley says, and Billy remembers the way she'd told him 'You and I are two of a kind,' hair whipping around her in the ocean wind. She probably didn't just mean the revolver she keeps close at hand, he realizes now.
So he settles, loses some of the tension in his shoulders, shifts just a little closer to Steve. "I'm not afraid of you, Buckley."
She snorts. "Right, you're not afraid of anything."
"Stop," Steve breaks in. His hand finds Billy's arm, just below where he's got the sleeve rolled up, and the skin-to-skin contact is enough to distract Billy from building up to banter with Buckley. "What is it, Robin?"
"Well, before you two disappear into the jungle for a half hour of exploration," Buckley says, raising her eyebrows to really drive her emphasis home. "Jane's read the book. She's figured out what we're up against." She goes serious. "It's exactly as we thought, Steve. It's the shadow."
Steve swears, soft and with feeling, fingers tightening on Billy's arm. "The Mind -"
There's a rumble - like an earthquake, but rippling through the air instead. The same feeling that Billy got when the temple appeared out of seemingly nowhere at all. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raise, a prickling sensation over his skin. He reaches for one of his revolvers, grabbing at Steve's arm. Across the clearing, Nancy's standing, shotgun in hand, and Hopper and Joyce are stepping in front of Jane and Mike. There's a strange darkness casting over them, like it's not even daytime anymore.
Billy doesn't like it. Neither does Steve, who says, "It's here."
"Get to the ship," he says, low, and then louder. "Get to the ship!"