Archive of Our Own

The summer of 1986.

Almost one year after the Battle of Starcourt.

The fourth of July is coming up again, and understandably none of the people that were involved with any of the mess at Starcourt are too keen on the upcoming holiday celebrations.

Which is why a few weeks ago Steve had offered up his family’s old vacation cabin as an alternative place for everyone to spend the holiday. 

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Dustin had followed Steve to Family Video to spend half of Steve’s shift complaining about how down everyone was about the upcoming anniversary, and how much he wishes he could do something about it.

Steve’s family’s cabin is pretty remote, and it’s in an area that’s more often used for winter vacationing than summer, so, hopefully , they won't have to deal with too many fireworks or anything like that. 

Either way, Steve figures it’ll at least be better than being in Hawkins, maybe, probably.

The offer had sprung out of his mouth so easily, it didn't seem like a big deal at the time, but now…

Now Steve’s looking at a three hour drive with Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Billy all stuffed into his car, and Robin’s upset with him because somehow in trying to make sure that everyone had a ride to the cabin she got shuffled off of the list for Steve’s car and onto the one for Murray Bauman’s van, and it’s all just… a lot. 

And they haven't even left the school parking lot yet, which is where they decided to all meet up to get organized before leaving. 

Dustin and Max are arguing over who is getting to ride shotgun. 

And sure, Steve might not be able to do anything about the looks Robin is sending him from where she’s standing over with Alexei, Erica, and Heather by Murray’s maroon van, but he can do something about the arguing kids in front of him.

“Hey, hey!” Steve says, clapping to get their attention. “Neither of you two gremlins are getting shotgun.”

“What!” Dustin shouts, sounding outraged, as both he and Max whirl to face him. The weight of their full attention feels heavy.

“No! No. My car. My rules.” Steve says, putting his hands on his hips and trying to put as much authority into his voice as he can. 

He wants to cut this short before either of them have a chance to build up any more steam. They are both really good at arguing.

“And that means you three-” Steve continues, looking pointedly at Dustin, Max, and Lucas in turn, “-sit in the back. Billy gets shotgun.”

The mention of Billy at least makes them pause, but then all three of them are awkwardly looking over their shoulders in Billy’s direction.

He’s standing a little ways away from the rest of the group. A ratty old duffle bag slung over his shoulder, fingers running almost nervously over the strap. Over and over. 

He glowers at them, but the effect is lessened by his hunched shoulders and the way he flinched when all the attention turned on him.

He’s been… quiet… since he’s been out of the hospital. 

At least, that’s what Steve’s heard. He’s hardly seen him, personally. 

As far as Steve understands, Billy hardly ever leaves the trailer Hop got him set up in after he got out of the hospital. And Steve… he hasn’t been by to visit.

Max is the first to look away from Billy and back to Steve, and he knows by the expression on her face that he’s at least won her over. He also knows that when it comes to this subject at least, Lucas will follow her lead.

When Billy had been in the hospital Max had visited him every second of every day that she’d been allowed to. Even when he was still in a coma, and couldn’t exactly interact. Her surprising dedication and protectiveness hadn’t waned when Billy was finally released a few months ago.

Steve thinks she’s probably the reason Billy’s here right now, coming on this trip with all of them. Her or Hop… Steve knows the chief checks in on Billy often. Or maybe they teamed up for this. Steve doesn’t know.

“But-” Dustin starts, obviously gearing up to argue more.

“That makes sense. His legs are longer.” Max says, matter of factly, cutting Dustin off. “I’m not sitting in the middle though.”

Her words work as an effective distraction from the subject of the front seat, but it looks like Dustin’s about to start up a new argument about the back seat now.

Fortunately for all of them, and their schedule, Lucas cuts that argument off before it can even really get started by volunteering to sit in the middle. 

“Harrington.” Hop’s gruff voice pulls Steve’s attention away from the kids. 

Hop is standing beside his truck, Joyce already sitting in the passenger’s seat.

“Drive safe.” Hop says, and Steve doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker over to Billy. “Radio if you run into any trouble.”

“Will do, Chief.” Steve says, attempting a confident smile.

Nothing is going to go wrong. He repeats that sentence over and over in his head, hoping that if he believes in it hard enough that maybe it’ll actually be true.

Hop sends a quick glare at Mike, already sitting in the back seat of Jonathan’s car in between El and Will, before climbing into his truck. A quick glance around at the rest of the parking lot shows that the passengers Steve’s responsible for are the only ones still standing around and not ready to go. 

And considering they’re all counting on Steve to lead the way since it’s his family’s cabin they’re going to, that’s a problem.

“Alright!” Steve says, clapping again. “Everyone in the car!”

-

Dustin brought snacks. 

By now Steve really should have expected that. 

He glances through the rearview mirror at the three kids in the back seat as Dustin starts distributing treats between them. When he spots a can of pringles he reaches back and snags it before Dustin can pass it to Lucas.

Dustin just shrugs and pulls out another one to hand to Lucas instead. Max already has an open bag of gummy worms on her lap that she’s steadily making her way through.

Steve pops open the pringles can one handed as he turns his attention back to the road ahead. He grabs a few chips and stuffs them in his mouth before he glances at Billy.

Billy is sitting quietly in the passenger seat, leaning away from Steve and towards the door, and staring out the window at the passing scenery. 

He has his bag on his lap, and the grip he still has on the straps is too tight for the nonchalant attitude he seems to be trying to portray.

“Want some?” Steve asks, holding the pringles can out towards Billy in offering.

“No thank you.” Billy says, voice flat, quiet. 

He doesn't even look at what Steve’s offering.

“Come on, it’s a road trip.” Steve insists, even though he’s not sure why. “You gotta have snacks. It’s like, roadtrip tradition.”

Steve can feel three sets of eyes watching them intently from the back seat and it has him feeling weirdly self conscious.

Billy finally pulls his eyes away from the fields and farmland beyond the window to look at Steve. It’s a quick thing, his eyes briefly flitting over Steve’s face before dropping down to look at the pringles Steve’s still holding out to him.

“Fine.” Billy says, with a sigh, like Steve’s asked him to do something really troublesome. 

He carefully takes a few pringles, and begins to eat them slowly, one chip at a time.  

“Can’t believe you let people eat this shit in a car like this .” Billy grumbles under his breath, as he turns his face back towards the window. “Gonna get crumbs fucking everywhere.”

Steve’s smiling when  he sets the pringles can in the cup holder. 

-

About an hour and a half into the drive the radio station that’s been playing quietly as a backdrop for the conversation the kids are having in the back seat becomes more static than anything else, and Steve knows they’ve now reached the point in their journey where the only radio stations they’ll get are a handful of small very localized religious ones.

A glance in the rearview mirror shows that the kids very obviously aren’t paying any attention to the music, and haven't even noticed it’s gone entirely to static. 

Steve glances back to the road and then to the side to check on Billy. If Billy’s asleep Steve will just turn the radio off, and deal with not having any music to listen to.

But Billy’s not asleep. 

He’s still staring out the window and holding onto his duffle bag in his lap. The only improvement it seems, is that at least he doesn’t look as tense as he did earlier. 

Earlier he looked like he was ready to jump out of the car at the slightest provocation, now at least it looks like he’d at least wait for the car to be stopped. Probably. Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Hey,” Steve says, trying to keep his voice quiet and calm. He doesn’t want to startle Billy. 

Billy startles anyway, though he does a good enough job hiding it that Steve doesn’t think the kids notice. 

“I’ve got some tapes in the glove compartment.” Steve says, still talking quietly and calmly. “Will you choose one and put it on? We aren’t going to get shit on the radio out here.”

For a moment, Billy just blinks at Steve, before he moves wordlessly to open the glove compartment. 

He shuffles through the tapes, and Steve wonders what he’ll pick.

He can’t imagine that he has much of a selection that Billy would like. 

Eventually Billy seems to settle for one and pops it into the cassette player. 

Steve holds his breath in anticipation of finding out what Billy picked, and is surprised when the opening of a Fleetwood Mac song starts playing. Billy must have found a tape Robin left in his car for when they carpool to and from work.

It’s not what Steve thought Billy would have chosen, but then again, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

-

Three hours and forty minutes later Steve pulls into the driveway of his family’s vacation home. They always call it ‘the cabin’, but really it’s a sprawling three bedroom two bath house with a mother-in-law suite out in the back. 

Steve’s pretty sure the only thing that makes it “cabin-like” is the generous use of dark woods and the decor style that his mom always refers to as “rustic” with that look on her face that says she hates it but isn’t about to start that argument with his dad again. 

The kids spill out of the car quickly, excited and eager from being cooped up in the car for so long with only the occasional brief bathroom break. Also they’ve probably had too much sugar. 

In hindsight, Steve probably should have kept a better eye on how much candy they ate. Oops.

Although he had seemed the most reluctant to get into the car earlier, Billy isn’t quick or eager to get out of it. And once he is out it seems like he’s not quite sure where to stand.

Behind them Steve can hear the rest of the cars pulling up and the sounds of car doors opening and closing.

Steve pulls the keys to the vacation house out of his pocket and makes his way to the front door to let everyone in, figuring he can grab his bag from the trunk later.

His family hasn’t been here in a while, all of them too caught up in their separate lives back home, so the door sticks a little when Steve goes to open it. It’s nothing a little shove can’t fix though, and once he gets it open he is relieved to see (over the tops of the kids heads as they rush past him) that the interior isn’t too dusty. 

The next half hour or so is chaos with people moving stuff into the house and kids running around and looking at all the rooms and Hopper sternly yelling to knock it off whenever anyone gets too rowdy. 

It’s a mess, but Steve’s pretty sure he’s never seen the house so lively.

He never understood why his parents had a vacation home with bed space for twelve people and never seemed to ever invite anyone over. 

-

Dinner that night makes Steve glad that other people handled the food. 

Hop fires up a grill and cooks up plenty of burgers and hot dogs for everyone. If Steve’s being honest he isn’t sure if the grill was already here or if someone brought it specifically for this trip. 

He doesn’t remember there ever being a grill here before, but he thinks that maybe like the pool and the fancy kitchen aid appliances in the kitchen back home, this was possibly just another thing his parents bought because it was just another thing that people like them were supposed to have, even if his parents never actually intended to ever use it. 

Dustin’s mom sent him with a Macaroni and Cheese casserole, and Alexei made… something… with a name Steve can’t hope to pronounce but that tastes good when Steve tries it. 

Joyce adds store bought fruit salad and veggie platters to the big table in the dining room that hasn’t seen an actual meal in Steve’s lifetime, and there’s a pie in the fridge that Nancy’s mom made and packed with her for them to have after dinner. 

Somehow in the chaos that is trying to find enough room at the dining room table for everyone, Steve ends up seated in between Robin and Billy. 

On Robin’s other side is Alexei, and they seem to have hit it off on the car ride here because they’re going back and forth in a mix of English and Russian that Steve can’t even begin to follow.

Billy didn’t put much on his plate, Steve notices. 

All he has on it is a surprisingly burnt looking burger on a toasted bun (no veggies, no sauce, no cheese), a small amount of the fruit salad, and a few veggie sticks from the platter. 

He didn’t take any of the food Alexei brought, and the way he keeps looking at the mac and cheese is like its mere existence on the table is a grave and personal insult.

Steve wants to tell him to take more food, but he doesn’t know how to do that without being weird about it. 

Thankfully Joyce isn’t as awkward as Steve is, and she also notices Billy’s plate while making a round around the table to check on everyone. 

“Oh honey, you liked the fruit salad?” She asks, resting a hand on Billy’s shoulder. 

He tenses under the touch but she just rubs his shoulder soothingly and gradually he relaxes somewhat. 

It might be a stretch to guess that Billy liked the fruit salad. 

He ate it slowly and carefully, the same as he’s been eating everything else, but he has eaten slightly more of it than anything else. 

“You should have some more.” Joyce continues, undaunted by Billy’s lack of verbal response. She scoops a generous helping onto his plate without waiting for input from Billy that never comes. “We have plenty, I really shouldn’t have brought so much.”

Billy rubs his thumb over the tines of his fork. Steve’s sitting close enough to him, with how tightly the table is packed, that he can feel Billy’s leg bouncing nervously under the table.

Billy manages a nod, and a twitch of his lips that was maybe meant to be a smile.

Joyce squeezes his shoulder reassuringly again before moving on to insist that El needs to at least have some carrots or something, not just mac and cheese and hot dogs.

After Joyce’s intervention, Billy still eats slowly, but he steadily works his way through everything on his plate. 

And when he’s finished with it all he sends a glance in Joyce’s direction before getting another scoop of the fruit salad when she gives him an encouraging smile. 

Steve doesn’t really get it, the food stuff. 

But it’s clear that Billy still needs more help with everyday stuff then Steve realized, and that realization makes him feel guilty for reasons he really doesn't want to delve into.

Guilty like he should have known, like he should have put more effort into finding out. 

Guilty like he should know how to help.

But honestly…

Steve has been feeling scared and uncertain about Billy, and all the complicated history and feelings that come with him, ever since last summer. Maybe even before that too. 

And it’s always been a lot easier for Steve to ignore the things that make him feel that way then to confront them. 

So until this trip left him with no choice but to suddenly be confronted with Billy, and all the baggage that comes with him, he’s just… he’s been doing his best to put Billy, and all the complicated things Steve feels about him, out of his mind.

And it was working, mostly. He thinks. Robin might disagree, but he’s not about to ask her, so… whatever.

It still doesn’t feel good to find out how much he’s apparently missed out on while he’s been too busy sticking his head in the sand. 

-

When dinner winds down to an end, everyone naturally flows through the wide archway from the dining room and into the living room. There’s a decently sized sound system along the opposite wall, and El takes Steve’s hand and pulls him over to it quickly. 

He suspects that she wants to make sure that they get there first, probably worried that otherwise Jonathan or Will or someone else will get first dibs on choosing the music. 

Steve shows her to the cabinet where they keep the records, and she calls over Max to help her choose from the selection. Steve fiddles with the player and makes sure everything is still in working order as they look through all the options in the cabinet and debate their options a bit before settling on one and handing it to him. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at their choice, he’s sure that it’s not going to be to everyone’s tastes, but he puts it on anyway. He adjusts the volume so that it will be loud enough to hear it throughout the room, but also not so loud that people will have to shout to talk to each other.

That done, Steve turns in time to catch the first reactions from the rest of the room. Some obviously recognize the opening song quickly, but for others it takes longer. Some, like Alexei, don’t seem to recognize it at all.

Heather claps her hands where she’s sharing a loveseat with Robin, the two of them looking to be much closer than they were when they left the school parking lot this morning. Steve raises his eyebrow at Robin who just blushes and looks away from him.

“I love this song!” Heather says, excitedly. 

The living room of the vacation house is large, and there are a lot of places to sit, but it’s still not enough for the number of people they currently have with them. 

Jonathan’s sitting on the floor with his back to Nancy’s legs where she is sitting on one of the couches. Dustin and Will are squished together into a single armchair that’s really too small for the two growing teenagers. Murray is sitting in the other armchair, with Alexei half sitting half leaning against the arm of it. 

El and Max stand in the middle of the room, having missed out on grabbing seats while choosing the music.

Billy hangs back, still standing in the wide archway between the dining room and living room, and looking like he isn’t sure where he belongs. His bag, which still hasn’t left his hands or lap once in all the time Steve’s spent with him today is slung over his shoulder again. His fingers rub nervously along the texture of the straps.

Steve makes his way over.

Billy tenses as he approaches, and that brings back the guilty feelings from earlier.

“Hey.” Steve says, unsure of what else to say when he moves to stand near Billy, turning his attention back to the rest of the room. Billy’s fingers twitch slightly where he’s holding the straps of the bag.

Billy makes a noncommittal noise that Steve chooses to take as a greeting. 

“Thanks for coming.” Steve says, still watching the rest of the room. It’s easier to say these kinds of things without having to look at Billy while he does. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Why?” The question sounds so genuinely baffled that it startles a laugh out of Steve. 

He looks at Billy and Billy is looking at him, really looking and not just glancing this time, with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

Steve smiles, and he notices the way Billy stares at his smile a moment before glancing away again, his ears looking a little pinker. 

Steve worries that Billy thinks he was making fun of him, so he rushes to explain.

“Because it feels right, you know? Feels complete with you here.” Steve explains clumsily. “All of us together.”

Billy glances at him again, another one of those quick searching looks, before he looks back towards the rest of the room again. His ears are getting redder, and Steve’s about to try again to explain.

The record switches on to the next song. 

A familiar and recognizable beat starts it off. There’s a cheer from the rest of the room and Steve pulls his eyes away from Billy in time to see Max pulling El back into the center of the room to dance with her. 

“Clock strikes upon the hour

And the sun begins to fade”

Whitney Housten’s singing fills the room.

Erica gets up to join Max and El on the dance floor they’ve made out of a rug that Steve’s mom probably spent way too much money on considering how much she hates it.

Heather giggles and pulls Robin out of the loveseat and out onto the rug to dance too. Steve can practically see the hearts in Robin’s eyes even as she stumbles through the awkward clumsy way she dances.

“Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody”

The chorus plays as Steve looks back at Billy. He’s watching Max and El, wearing a soft smile and a fond look in his eyes that makes him look a lot less intimidating and serious than he always seems in Steve’s memories.

“Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me”

Steve wonders how Billy would react if Steve tried to pull him over to dance the way Heather had with Robin. He’d probably take a swing at him, Steve thinks, maybe. 

Probably. 

Steve isn’t sure though.

This Billy is very different then the Billy Steve knew before, and Steve doesn’t really know what to expect from him. 

Billy chuckles, pulling his eyes away from Max and El to glance at Steve again.

“Max is obsessed with this song.” He says. “She plays it all the fucking time.”

His voice is like his expression, warm, fond. 

Steve wants to get closer, wants to see if he gets close enough if he’ll be able to feel that warmth.

“Don'tcha wanna dance, say you wanna dance, don'tcha wanna dance

Don'tcha wanna dance, say you wanna dance, don'tcha wanna dance”

Steve wants to ask him to dance, he realizes. 

“Don'tcha wanna dance, say you wanna dance

With somebody who loves me”

But the song is already ending, and the impromptu dance session doesn’t continue on into the next one. 

-

They don’t end up seeing or hearing any fireworks. 

It’s a relief. 

Steve hadn’t been sure, he doesn’t think he’s ever been out here for the fourth of july before. And while the nearest neighbors are a ways away… the light and noise of fireworks does tend to travel.

Steve is sure that eventually this holiday won't be quite so difficult, but he doesn’t think any of them are ready to face it again just yet.

-

The kids have sprawled out on the floor of the living room, gathered around to play a game of monopoly that is getting downright vicious and which Erica is very obviously winning.

At some point Murray brought out some vodka, and made some mixed drinks for himself, Alexei, Joyce, and Hop. 

He isn’t subtle when he hands Steve an already cold six pack of beer and asks him to be a dear and go put it in the fridge for him, herding the rest of the older teens into the kitchen behind him.

It’s just one sixpack, to be shared amongst the six of them, so Hopper pretends he doesn’t notice.

It’s awkward in the kitchen at first. They all stand around the kitchen island with their beers and don’t seem to know how exactly to talk to each other without the buffer of everyone else. 

Thankfully though, the awkwardness doesn’t last long. 

It doesn’t take long before Robin and Nancy get a conversation going about something, the two of them putting in the work to pull the rest of their little awkward group into the conversation too, and the whole situation gets more comfortable after that. 

Billy and Jonathan don’t really join in on the conversation that much, but Steve’s come to learn over the years that that’s pretty normal for Jonathan. He’s just kind of a quiet guy.  

And maybe Billy is now too, Steve thinks. Hopes.

He really hopes that Billy’s just not as chatty of a person these days as he used to be and that it’s not that he feels uncomfortable here or with them or around Steve or something.

Steve misses the sound of Billy’s voice, and the teasing way he used to talk to Steve. But he’d rather not get those back, as much as he wants them, if it means that Billy is more comfortable.

More himself.

He glances at Billy, and sees that he’s looking down and playing with the beads of condensation on the side of his can of beer. 

The can is open, and Steve’s seen him at least mime taking a sip occasionally, but Steve’s pretty sure that Billy hasn't actually drank any.

Heather, across the island from Billy and Steve, isn’t even pretending to drink her beer. 

It sits untouched on the counter in front of her while she chats with Nancy and playfully bumps shoulders with Robin. And it only moves from that spot when Nancy finishes off her own can with a flourish, first to that finish line, and Heather offers the untouched can to her.

Steve wonders if it's a previously-been-flayed thing. 

Most of his knowledge about that sort of thing comes from Dustin talking about Will though, so he isn’t really sure. He doesn’t know if Will has ever even tried a beer, much less if his opinion about it changed after his experiences with the mind flayer.

-

The vacation house is big, and it has way too many beds for how Steve’s parents usually use it, but there still isn’t enough beds for everyone in their group. 

Murray is quick to claim the master bedroom for him and Alexei. 

Steve notices the wide eyed way Billy watches them rush off to claim the room before anyone else can. By this point they’re both a little drunk and they giggle as they stumble down the hall, Murray’s arm around Alexei’s shoulders and Alexei’s around his waist. Holding each other in a way that is obviously more than friendly.

Hopper and Joyce take the bedroom with the queen sized bed that is usually Steve’s when he comes here with his parents. Which is just… Steve would just really rather not think about that, at all, thank you very much.

The girls all get shuffled off to the bunk room. 

The bunk room was once a normal, if rather large, bedroom that Steve’s mom had rearranged to fit two sets of bunk beds and a double bed. She always said it was a useful change, since now there was plenty of room for “the children”.

Steve always wondered what children she was talking about when she said this, since he and Tommy were the only kids who ever came out here and there’s no way the two of them needed that many beds.

Hopper gives them all a stern look, eyes lingering especially long on Jonathan, Lucas, and Mike, and reminds them all that there are absolutely no boys allowed in the girl’s room.

Erica backs Hopper up by stating in no uncertain terms that if any of them try anything nasty she’s going to take out their knee caps. 

Dustin and the rest of the younger boys are planning on camping out in the living room, and are already working on choosing the best spots to lay out their sleeping bags.

Which just leaves Steve, Billy, and Jonathan left to sort out. And only the one queen sized bed out in the mother-in-law suite out back left. 

Steve’s not sure how to navigate this, and he feels nervous as he leads Jonathan and Billy out the back door, down the porch steps and over to the other building. 

Obviously, Jonathan and Billy are guests so Steve should volunteer to sleep on the floor. But that still only leaves the one bed, and somehow he can’t imagine Billy and Jonathan sharing it.

Steve unlocks the door to the small building and flips on the light. 

It’s a simple little studio on the inside. With the queen bed, a small sitting area and a kitchenette all in one room, doors to the small bathroom and closet off to one side. 

Jonathan and Billy survey the room in silence and Steve fiddles nervously with the keys. 

“Yeah… I’m just gonna go sleep on the couch.” Jonathan says, and just like that he’s gone, and it’s just Billy and Steve left standing there staring at the only bed left.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” “Do you have any extra blankets?”

They both start talking at once.

And then they both stop and now they’re just staring at each other awkwardly and Steve feels like he’s forgotten how to be a person. 

He used to be good at this sort of thing, talking to people. Being sociable and a good host.

Steve glances at the bed, it’s already got a thick comforter and a knitted blanket on it. 

Steve’s grandma made that blanket and he knows that it keeps the heat in like crazy even though it’s full of holes, but he answers Billy’s question anyway. Even though it’s summer and surely those two blankets are enough, even up here in the mountains.

“Yeah we’ve got plenty in the closet.” He says, making his way over to the closet doors and pulling them open. The closet is mostly empty, but there is a whole stack of blankets in there.

He steps back and gestures at the blankets. 

“Take your pick,” Steve says, taking a step back and gesturing Billy towards the blankets. “I’m fine with whatever so take whichever ones you want.”

Billy moves closer to get a better look at the blankets, and reaches out to feel the materials of each one. 

“You should take the bed.” Billy says, not looking over his shoulder at Steve. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No.” Steve says, immediately. “You’re a guest. You take the bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“You take the bed.” Billy insists, still considering the blankets and not looking at Steve. “It’s your house.”

“You just got out of the hospital, like, a few months ago.” Steve says, crossing his arms. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

He can see Billy clench his jaw even though Billy still doesn’t turn to look at him.

“I’m fine.” Billy insists, tensely. “One night sleeping on the plush carpeting of your fucking vacation home isn’t going to kill me.”

“Besides,” he continues, quieter and his voice has lost all of its bite. “I’m only here because Max insisted I come. You don’t have to play good host with me.”

Steve deflates, the guilt from earlier coming back with a vengeance. 

“Hey,” he says softly, not sure where he’s going with this but knowing he needs to say something . 

Something to try and bring those tense shoulders back down, and loosen that too tight grip Billy has on the bag he’s been holding on to all day like he’s expecting at any moment to be kicked out and wants it in easy grabbing distance in case he is.

“I may not have been brave enough to ask you to come like Max was,” Steve says, speaking honestly. “But I really am glad she asked you. Because I’m really glad you’re here.”

Billy looks at him then, another searching look but not as glancing. It’s thorough, and Steve feels uncomfortably exposed under his stare.

Billy makes a noncommittal noise that tells Steve nothing about whatever judgement has just been passed, and turns back to the blankets.

“Guess we’re at an impasse then Harrington.” Billy says, sounding more like his old self than he has all day. “Because if you’re not going to let me sleep on the floor and I’m sure as hell not letting you sleep on the floor then I’m not really seeing a solution here.”

“We could share?” The words are out of Steve’s mouth before he can even think to stop them.

Billy looks at him, eyebrows raised and obviously surprised by the offer. 

Steve’s about to try to back track, to try and fix this somehow, when he notices the look in Billy’s eyes when he glances past Steve to the bed. 

It looks an awful lot like longing.

So Steve switches tracks.

“Yeah… I mean. It’s definitely big enough.” He says, trying for a casual tone and turning to look back at the bed like it might have changed sizes while he wasn’t looking. “And I don’t mind sharing. With you.”

Smooth Steve, so smooth , he thinks sarcastically.

Billy considers him another moment, blue eyes roving over Steve’s face searchingly.

“Okay.” He agrees with a shrug.

“Okay.” Steve repeats, smiling. 

Steve feels like he won something.

-

Billy goes into the small bathroom to get changed, and Steve could wait and use it after him but he decides to just change in the main room instead. 

He figures, even if Billy gets done changing faster than him and comes out while Steve’s half dressed, it’s not like he hasn’t seen Steve naked before. 

They used to share a locker room and showers before. It’s no biggie, Steve thinks, and he isn’t sure why that sounds like a lie even in his head.

Steve didn’t bring any actual pajamas, because frankly he hates sleeping in that sort of thing. At home he usually sleeps naked, or maybe in a pair of boxers or something if his parents are home or if Dustin is spending the night in the guest room down the hall. 

But Steve kind of figured going into this trip that that wouldn’t be an option so he packed a pair of work out shorts to wear as makeshift pajama bottoms. They aren’t much longer than boxers would be, but the material is a little thicker and there’s a lot less risk of any accidental exposures. 

He’s also packed a few t-shirts that he could put on, but Steve hates sleeping in shirts.

Far too often, the shirt gets tangled up around him as he tosses and turns and that pulls the neckline tight and then he has dreams about the vines in those tunnels or russian torture and it’s just…

It’s not fun.

But he also doesn’t want to make Billy uncomfortable. Is it weird to not wear a shirt to bed when you’re sharing that bed with another guy?

Steve doesn’t know. He can’t remember the last time he shared a bed with anyone that wasn’t a girl he was sleeping with.

Probably some time with Tommy back when they were kids, he thinks.

Billy comes out of the bathroom while Steve is dressed in only the work out shorts and is staring down into his bag still trying to make a decision. 

He’s wearing loose grey sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a band Steve’s never heard of, and his hair is slightly damp around the edges of his face like he washed up in the sink while he was in there.

Cute, Steve thinks, his heart thumping too hard in his chest. 

Billy looks surprised, and Steve feels those blue eyes roving over him almost like a physical touch. The ghost of actual weight behind his stare.

Steve can feel his cheeks starting to heat up with a blush when those eyes linger a little extra on his exposed chest. Dustin keeps telling Steve he should shave, and Steve wonders, somewhat absurdly, what Billy thinks. 

“Umm…” Steve starts, with no idea where he was planning on going with that.

‘Let me grab a shirt’ maybe? Or… ‘I wasn’t expecting you to come out yet’?

“Which side of the bed do you want?” Is what ends up falling out of his mouth, which is probably for the best even if it does come out sounding a little embarrassed and guilty.

Billy turns his eyes to the bed, and Steve feels like he can breathe again as Billy studies the bed and the whole layout of the room again. 

It takes him a while, but eventually Billy chooses the side of the bed closer to the window. 

Billy tries to play it off as just curiosity, when he gets a closer look at the window, but Steve notices the way he checks the latches on it. 

Steve’s not sure if he’s checking that they’re locked or if he’s checking that they can be opened.

Billy feels the textures of both of the blankets on the bed and the sheets underneath before settling stiffly into his side of the bed, tucked underneath all three.

He’s going to get too warm. Steve thinks. But maybe that’s the point.

He knows from Dustin that Will still hates being even a little bit cold, and he wonders if it’s the same for Billy. 

He hopes the girls found the extra blankets in their closet, he told Robin where they were but he hopes Heather feels comfortable asking if she needs more.

He’s not willing to risk Hop’s wrath to check though.

Steve wants to sleep with only the sheet to cover him, but he isn’t sure how to navigate that since it’s the bottom layer for Billy. So, instead, Steve slips under just the top blanket and figures if he gets too hot he can just take it off later.

Steve turns off the bedside lamp once they are both settled. That leaves only the moonlight filtering in through the curtains to see by. The old lamp doesn’t light things that well, but the difference is still drastic enough that Steve spends a few moments blind as his eyes adjust to the dimmer surroundings.

Silence settles heavily around them, and Steve stares up at the ceiling feeling far too awake to manage any sleep.

He’s not sure how long they lay there quietly, but he knows Billy isn’t asleep. He can tell by the sound of his breathing. 

It’s easier though, to pretend that he might be. Makes it easier to force out the words he’s been fighting with all day. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve’s voice comes out as barely a whisper.

It’s easier to say it in the dark, as they both stare up at the ceiling and don't look at each other and Steve pretends that Billy might be asleep, that he might not hear him. 

But it’s still just two tiny little words and it's not enough.

It’s not nearly enough to convey everything that Steve’s feeling, that Steve's been feeling.

“For what?” Billy asks, and his voice is quiet too. Raspy.

Steve’s throat feels tight. 

There are too many answers to that question, and Steve can’t force any of them out no matter how much he wants to.

‘Sorry I made you feel like you weren't welcome on this trip.’ 

‘Sorry I made up an excuse to miss your housewarming party.’ 

‘Sorry I never visited you when you were in the hospital.’

Or maybe…

‘Sorry I hit you with a car.’ 

‘Sorry I didn’t notice you needed help.’ 

‘Sorry I let the silence stretch on between us for so many months.’

Or perhaps…

‘Sorry I lied to you that night at the Byers’ 

and 

‘Sorry I punched first.’

Or maybe… maybe… 

‘Sorry I was too caught up in all the bullshit with Nancy to see that you wanted to be friends.’

It’s too much. It’s all too much. There’s too many things he’s sorry about, and it’s all been building up inside of him while Steve just did his best to ignore it. 

Too scared that if he acknowledged it in any way that it would consume him.

Steve shrugs.

“So much. Too much.” He says. It’s all he can manage. “Too fucking much.”

It’s quiet again, for a while. And Steve wonders if this is it. This is the point at which they go back to just ignoring each other again.

But eventually Billy breaks the silence to speak again.

“Okay.” He says. “Thanks.”

Like it’s that simple. 

Like he forgives Steve even though Steve hasn’t even managed to say what he’s sorry about yet. Not really.

Steve feels like he’s about to start crying. Which is ridiculous and he absolutely can not let that happen.

“I’m sorry too.” Billy says, breathes really. It’s so quiet.

“For what?” Steve asks, mirroring Billy’s earlier question.

Billy shrugs, Steve can feel the movement even though he can’t see it. 

“For all the shit I did.”

Steve swallows.

“Okay.” Steve says, voice sounding almost as raw as he feels. “Thanks.”

He hopes it feels even half as relieving for Billy to hear as it did for him.

-

Steve doesn’t remember falling asleep.

It feels like one moment he is staring up at the dark ceiling and listening to Billy breathe next to him and the next he is blinking his eyes open to sunlight coming in through the curtains on the window.

He feels warm and a little sweaty and very comfortable. And he also feels like he slept better last night than he has in a long time. And he’s… he’s tangled up with someone else, not just a blanket, he realizes sleepily.

Someone solid and warm.

Steve pulls his eyes away from the dust dancing in the streaks of sunlight coming through the curtains to find Billy’s wide blue eyes staring back at him.

For a moment, they both just stare.

But then Billy’s face shifts rapidly from surprise to guilt to panic, and he tries to pull away.

Steve, reflexively, doesn’t let him go. Instead he pulls him closer. 

Fuck. Steve thinks, panicking. Probably not the smartest move.

But Billy doesn't look like he’s going to punch him. He still looks scared, but underneath the fear is that same look from last night.

That longing.

Steve doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

He’s probably wrong. 

But also… he doesn’t want things to go back to the way things were before. Ignoring and avoiding Billy because he’s too scared to deal with any of it.

“I feel like I haven’t slept that well in years.” Steve blurts out, unable to stop himself. “Are you magic?”

Billy stares at him a moment longer, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, before the words process and he’s snorting a laugh that Steve can feel in the puffs of breath against his cheeks and the shaking where his arms are still tucked under Billy’s head and wrapped around his back. 

It’s not a pretty laugh. It’s ugly and loud. Impolite, Steve’s mother would probably call it. 

But it’s also warm and happy and so incredibly alive.

It’s beautiful.

Steve wants to hear it all the time, forever. 

“What the fuck Harrington,” Billy says, still giggling. “You use that line on everyone you sleep with?”

“Only the really pretty ones.” Steve says, again without thinking. He really needs to work on that.

Billy freezes again, and Steve feels his heart sink, once again sure that he’s ruined things. Billy’s eyes are wide as he searches Steve’s face, Steve already misses the way they crinkled when he laughed.

There’s a curl hanging down in Billy’s face. Steve brushes it aside with gentle fingers.

He figures the damage is already done, Billy isn’t stupid and Steve’s sure that he is obvious. So he figures it can’t hurt too much to do just this little bit more, before the inevitable heartbreak comes.

Billy’s skin is soft and warm under the pads of Steve’s finger tips. 

Steve wants to kiss him, but he’s sure that’s a step too far.

And then, suddenly, Billy surges forward to press his lips to Steve’s, frantic and desperate. 

Steve sucks in a shocked breath, before melting against the heat of Billy’s lips and kissing him back. 

Billy’s lips are chapped and rough and Steve can feel stubble and sweat under his hand as he shifts it to cradle Billy’s cheek and jaw. Billy whines and presses closer, hand curling into the hair on Steve’s chest.

It’s messy and it’s desperate and Steve thinks it’s probably the best kiss he’s ever had. He’s so happy he feels like he’s floating. 

“Oh my god, are you serious?!” Dustin shouts from the doorway, sounding scandalized. “I thought waking you two up was the safe option!” 

Billy goes rigid in Steve’s arms at the first noise and he pulls away from Steve quickly, a panicked look back on his face as he looks at Dustin.

Steve sighs, hanging his head for a moment before turning to glare at Dustin.

“Dustin, dude what the fuck?” Steve says, sounding as tired as he suddenly feels. “We’ve talked about the ‘coming into my room without knocking’ thing.”

“Well, yeah.” Dustin says, with a shrug. “But that was about your room back home, this is different.”

Steve rubs a hand across his face. Billy is still tense beside him.

“It isn’t different.” Steve says, firmly. “You gotta knock first man.”

“Okay.” Dustin says, like he doesn’t really believe Steve. “Well. Whatever. We’re hungry and El says she wants you to make us waffles.”

Steve sighs again.

“Okay okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” Steve says. 

Dustin looks content to stand there and wait, but Steve glares at him till he sighs sounding more exasperated than he has any right to. 

“Okay okay but you’d better hurry up or I think Jonathan’s going to try and do it himself.” Dustin says, stepping out of the door but still holding it open to finish what he has to say. “And he once lit Mrs. Byers’ curtains on fire trying to make toast, so I really don't think you want him to try his hand at using a waffle iron for the first time in your parent’s vacation house.” 

Dustin gives Steve one last disappointed look before slamming the door shut and marching off back towards the main house.

Steve waits until he hears the sound of Dustin thumping back up the stairs to the deck and the back door opening and closing, before he drops his head back on to the pillow with another sigh.

“Little siblings are so annoying.” Steve complains, to the ceiling. “I don’t know why I ever wanted one so bad growing up.”

Billy huffs out a weak laugh. It sounds exhausted, like the panic of being caught kissing Steve has worn him out entirely.

But it's still a laugh, and when Steve turns his head to look at him he can see that, slowly, he is relaxing from the tense fight or flight mode Dustin’s sudden interruption had sent him into earlier.

“It’s probably something that’s going to happen again.” Steve warns, and that earns him a raised eyebrow and a confused expression. “With Dustin, or one of the other kids. Those little assholes have no respect for my privacy.”

“So, if- if we’re going to be together…” Steve says, stumbling nervously over the words but forcing himself to continue. “...might be something you have to get used to.”

He doesn’t let himself look away from Billy’s face. He needs to see his reaction, even if it hurts. 

Billy’s eyes search Steve’s face again. Steve swallows nervously. 

“You really want that?” Billy asks, seriously. He doesn’t specify what he means but Steve knows he isn’t talking about the kids and their lack of respect for boundaries.

Steve forces himself to be brave and look Billy in the eyes when he answers the question honestly.

“I really really do.”

Billy, for his part, answers Steve’s unasked question with another kiss. One that says clearly, ‘me too’.

-

It takes Steve and Billy a while longer before they manage to drag themselves out of bed and get dressed enough to venture into the kitchen of the main house. 

It doesn’t help that they keep stopping to kiss some more.

Once they do make it into the kitchen though, they find that everything is actually fine without them. 

Amongst all the kids milling about, Jonathan and Robin sit at the kitchen island drinking steaming cups of coffee. Heather stands in front of the waffle iron, wielding a spatula and sporting what look suspiciously like fresh hickies on her neck.

Steve raises his eyebrows in silent question at Robin, and she sticks her tongue out at him before shooting a pointed look at Billy.

Steve smiles, he can’t help it. He’s too happy.

Gradually, the rest of the house wakes up and joins them in the kitchen, and though Heather keeps adding waffles to the stack it never seems to grow too tall as everyone grabs their fill. 

Alexei is wearing what is clearly one of Murray’s shirts, and Heather steals food off of Robin’s plate and receives only a halfhearted glare in return.

Under the table, Billy’s hand finds Steve’s and their fingers intertwine. 

It’s chaotic, and it’s messy, and it’s everything Steve’s ever really wanted in life.