Work Text:
Steve Harrington was weird.
Billy was sure he’d never figure him out, no matter how much time in the world he was given. When he’d first moved to Hawkins—what felt like a decade ago but was really only about a year—all he’d heard about was King Steve, a vicious and charming ruler who’d taken every girl in school out on a date and who’d somehow convinced every single guy that his reign wasn’t worth fighting. That king had apparently abdicated by the time Billy had rolled around, instead preferring to chase after a handful of middle schoolers who referred to themselves as “The Party” and who somehow got roped into enough trouble to last a lifetime.
Enough trouble that bled into Billy’s life, eventually.
Steve was tough and fiery. He’d seen that much in November, as Billy laid on the floor of Joyce Byers’s house after a fight with him. He was also soft, and Billy had gotten to see that too. He saw it in the kisses they’d found together under the spring sunsets, he saw it in the way Steve would hold him a little closer when they woke up in the same bed, always telling him you don’t have to go home yet, stay.
After nearly a year, Billy was intoxicated by Steve. He wanted to know more, wanted to pick apart every single piece of Steve until he could see each puzzle piece that made up the whole beautiful picture.
One piece he couldn’t figure out was the pool.
Steve took the Party to the Hawkins Community Pool multiple times a week as soon as school let out for the summer. It was odd, sure, but Steve reassured him that he’d rather be here than at his private pool because Billy was there, and because he didn’t have to watch the kids.
Except that wasn’t true either, because Steve never relaxed. He hardly ever let his eyes off those kids, even when it was Billy up on the lifeguard stand. Even when Billy walked over to his chair, flirting and flexing because he finally had his tan back, see, Harrington? Steve’s eyes never left where the kids were splashing and swimming around. Billy’d even seen a fleeting moment of panic once—the one with the fluffy hair that got comically irritated when Billy messed up his name took a running leap into the pool, submerging and not coming back up for a few seconds. Billy had been standing by Steve’s pool chair then, close enough to see the flash of fear in his eyes as he shot forward, hands gripping the sides of the chair like it was the only thing keeping him from rushing into the pool after the kid. It was strange, but not too out of the realm of possibility for Steve. After all, on more than one occasion Max had huffed and groaned about him like he was a mom to these kids—apparently, he was protective of them ever since he was in charge of them at the junkyard.
Then there were the times Steve invited Billy over to swim. Steve would be wearing those short little swim trunks that made Billy wish they weren’t outside where one of his rich-ass neighbors could hear if anything louder than a conversation occurred, but he would never swim. Ever. He’d kick back in one of the lounge chairs, sunglasses on as he made some excuse about how he wasn’t going to swim today, but don’t let that stop Billy from swimming. And it never did. Billy would always slip off his shirt, tossing it in Steve’s direction and grinning at the disgruntled shout that came from the other man before he was diving straight into the pool.
Those days were fun, spent watching the sun crest over the peak of the sky and disappear back down under the horizon from the pool. He’d swim for a bit before coming to rest against the ledge, talking with Steve about anything—from football teams neither of them cared about, to where they should go when summer was over, now that they both were graduated and free to escape this town.
But still, pool days would be more fun if Steve got in the water with him. Billy never understood the strange excuses, but finally chalked it up to Steve “The Hair” Harrington not wanting to get that precious hair wet. But then again, he’d been swim captain for three years, so he should be used to it. Maybe he just didn’t want Billy to see his hair like that? Maybe he was teasing him like this, laying out for him looking absolutely gorgeous every week and asking Billy to do something about it.
So the next time Steve invited him to go swimming, he decided he would. Because they’d seen each other fighting off strange vines beneath pumpkin patches, surely Billy could see Steve’s hair all wet and matted down.
“Billy, what’re you doing?” Steve asked, laughing at first as Billy wrapped his arms around his waist the second Steve started heading toward his chosen lounge chair.
“I thought you said we’re going swimming, pretty boy.”
“Stop! No, I’m not swimming today,” Steve called out, still laughing but with his voice a higher pitch than normal. Billy could see the flush spreading over Steve’s cheeks as he hauled him over to the edge of the pool.
“One...” Billy counted slowly as Steve continued to yell, complaining but never once trying to fight out of Billy’s hold. “Two....three!”
It was supposed to be a fun day. Steve would land in the water, and at first, he’d scowl but then he’d swipe the hair back from his forehead and grin up at Billy. Billy would jump in after him and they could spend the day in the pool together, maybe get that underwater kiss he’d been having dreams about ever since the start of the summer.
Instead, the second Steve hit the water he let out a blood-curdling scream.
It wasn’t a scream of shock or one of joy. No, this was terror , unlike anything Billy had ever heard before.
Immediately Steve was splashing furiously, practically hauling himself out of the water. Billy could only watch in shock and horror as Steve sat on top of his calves, bent over so his palms dug into the rough concrete around the pool while his chest heaved. Deep, growled-out breaths punched out of his chest at odd intervals, and when Billy reached a hand down to touch his shoulder Steve let out a wild shout, knocking the hand away and scrambling back like he was going to get hit.
“Steve, Steve, I’m sorry,” Billy forced out, feeling his own heart pounding against his chest and in his ears. “I thought—I thought it’d be funny, I didn’t mean—”
You were born to destroy. It’s all you’re good at.
Neil had told him as much, made sure he knew every day that he would never be more than this. And Billy, he’d fought so hard against it. He’d stopped fighting, he dug his nails deep into his palms when he wanted to pick a fight and he’d fucking apologized to Steve , back when Steve was still just Harrington and Billy was just the new guy prick.
But then Billy found someone willing to love him, and he did this.
It was supposed to be a joke. People throw their friends, their partners, into the pool all the time.
“I’m okay, I’m—” Steve gasped out, already trying to stand but stumbling back to the ground between his rapid breathing.
“Hey, hey, no you’re not,” Billy answered, immediately tossing away his own fears because Steve was there in front of him panicking, Steve needed his help now .
Billy didn’t know what it was that caused such terrifying breathing, but he did know how to help make it stop. He had to know, after one too many times passing out in his bedroom as a kid from the inability to return his breathing to normal.
So he rushed forward, not minding the way his knees scraped the concrete harshly as he made it to Steve’s side. He put his hands up, palms toward Steve as he inched them closer to him. “Hey, hey, it’s gonna be alright, you hear me, Stevie?”
“I need you to focus on what I’m saying, I know that pretty little head of yours can do it. Okay? Can you feel me breathing?” Billy asked the second he could grab Steve’s hand and press it to his own chest, keeping both of his hands over Steve’s to keep it in place. “Try to copy that, alright? In and out slowly, just like I’m doing.”
Steve was staring at him, hazel eyes wide but finally coming into focus again. He nodded, maybe forcing something out that sounded a little like an ‘okay’.
“Good job, keep breathing with me, okay? You’re doin’ great, a real natural. Can you do somethin’ else for me? Tell me something you can see right now.”
“Blue. Your eyes, blue,” Steve answered, voice sounding light and breathless but there . And of course, it would be him that Steve noticed—he was always commenting on Billy’s eyes, always talking about how bright and expressive the color was. It used to scare him, how easily Steve seemed to be able to read him from those eyes. “The sun, the sun’s out.”
“Yeah, yeah it is,” Billy breathed out, taking only a moment to glance up at the thing Steve pointed out before focusing back in on the man in his arms.
“The sun’s out. It’s daytime,” Steve repeated, his fingers relaxing their grip on Billy’s chest with every repetition. Billy didn’t know why that was such an important point, but he could see more and more clarity returning to Steve’s face so he wouldn’t question it, not if it brought Steve back to him.
“Yeah, sun’s out. It’s daytime, nothin’ can get you now,” Billy reassured, only letting Steve’s hand drop from his chest once he saw Steve’s breathing begin to even out.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, punctuated only by Steve’s audible breathing as he returned it to a normal rhythm. Billy tried not to stare, instead turning his head to look at the pool, the offender in this entire situation. Steve had been a captain of the swimming team for two years, and part of the Varsity squad for three. He knew because it was just one of many sports that Billy had to hear about, constantly had to see ‘Steve Harrington’ plastered around the gym beside a multitude of records. The coach was the gym teacher, and Billy could hear nearly every day during their Senior year how hard the man tried to recruit Steve back to the team. ‘You could get a scholarship, Harrington, you know that? Anywhere you wanna go, just come compete.’
It used to piss Billy off, the way Steve seemingly threw away the best chance at getting out of this town. Then in November, he found out his little sister hunted interdimensional monsters for fun, and apparently, Steve was the only thing in between her and certain death. He’d assumed that was the reason Steve had stopped swimming—why worry about scholarships when he’d had multiple near-death experiences before being able to legally vote? Even Billy had struggled in the months after, had to force himself to focus on school because that was the only fucking way he’d ever escape his dad.
But this, this was more than simply trying to return to normal life after a scary experience. No, this reaction was pure trauma—something had happened here, in the water, to make Steve so petrified.
“I’m sorry,” Steve murmured, one knee brought up near his chest so he could drape an arm over it. He was staring at his feet, head dipped just low enough that his eyes were concealed from Billy by his eyelashes.
“No,” Billy immediately answered, wincing at the force behind the word. He could already feel the frustration bubbling up in him, and had to remind himself that no, this wasn’t the time for that. “No, Steve, don’t apologize for shit you didn’t do.”
“That was embarra—”
“I wouldn’t have thrown you in if I knew. I’m sorry. You know I never want to h—” Billy choked around the word, eyes instinctively drifting up to find Steve’s hairline. It was concealed by the way Steve was sitting, but Billy could still see it clear as day, the jagged scar from a heavy plate smashed over his head. It was the first time he ever truly feared becoming like Neil, the first time he looked at his reflection and no longer saw the momma’s boy he’d always been but rather a shadow of his father.
It was the last time he ever wanted to feel that way, the last time he’d ever hurt someone he loved.
“You know Barb? Uh, Barbara Holland, Nance’s friend,” Steve began, eyebrows drawn together, eyes still focused on his feet instead of on Billy. They were still sitting as near to each other as they could, Billy’s hip barely brushing Steve’s ankle.
“Girl who died in the chemical leak?” He hadn’t been a part of the aftermath discussions in November, not more than the obligatory ‘don’t even think about telling another soul about what happened tonight’. All he knew was that a week later, the news was going on about how a girl died a year ago at the same lab they’d all driven to that night, that the federal government had kept her death a secret for a year.
“No, well, yeah,” Steve started, already confusing Billy. He wouldn’t jump in though, not until Steve was done talking. He could see the tension tied tight in each of Steve’s muscles like the other man was ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. He wouldn’t be the reason for it, not again. “She didn’t die at the lab. She died here.”
“Here? At your house?”
“In my pool,” Steve corrected, head turning to stare out at the diving board on the other end of the pool. “She was sitting there the last I saw her. Tommy, Carol, and I were having a party, so I invited Nance over. She brought Barb for some reason, maybe because she didn’t trust me yet? Maybe because Barb was lonely. I know she really hated me, thought I was taking up too much of Nance’s time.”
“Sounds like she was jealous.”
Steve let out a noise that sounded like half a laugh and half-scoff, nodding slowly and risking a glance at Billy. “Yeah, maybe. She ended up being right, either way. We all left her alone out there so we could...the point is, we left her.”
“You aren’t responsible for every damn person at a party, Steve,” Billy tried, already seeing where this was going. A rock was developing in his stomach then, sitting harshly and weighing his body down.
“It was an asshole move to leave her out there. In the morning she was gone. Disappeared. I thought maybe she’d run away, thought maybe she’d...she could’ve been like us, you know?” Steve continued, brown doe eyes staring straight at Billy, wide and bright like he was asking Billy to absolve him of his crimes. “The Demogorgon got to her, pulled her right into that pool. I can’t get in the water without thinking about what she must have felt, how scared Barb must’ve been. Shit, I was terrified in those tunnels, and I knew what we were up against.”
“Steve,” Billy tried, but there weren’t enough words to fix anything that Steve had said. It was a shit situation, but they were all just kids when this happened. Steve had been 16, how was he supposed to have fought off a fucking Demogorgon on his own?
“Every time I get in the water, I picture that thing grabbing my ankle, pulling me down until the sun isn’t visible anymore. Pulls me straight into that Hellhole where it took Will and Barb.”
Billy didn’t have the right words—had never really been good at collecting them in the first place—but he did have an idea.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, watching Steve’s expression morph from hurt to confusion.
“Huh?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side in the way he did when he truly had no idea what was happening like he was a doe analyzing a scene for danger.
“Do you trust me?” Billy repeated.
“Of course. I trust you with my life,” Steve answered immediately, and, well fuck the way that made Billy’s chest flutter was something to examine later.
“Then c’mon.” Billy stood up, holding his hand out to help Steve up too. When they both were upright, Billy didn’t let go of his hand, instead beginning to guide him over to the side of the pool with a set of stairs. Already he could feel the tension in Steve’s hand as he tried to stop walking, tugging on Billy’s arm with the resistance.
“Billy, I can’t. I already told you I—”
“Just try something for me, okay? And if you hate it, we’ll get out and I’ll never bring it up again. But you can’t tell me you don’t miss it. The water.”
Steve watched Billy’s face for a moment before he seemed to resign himself, nodding a little and allowing Billy to guide him to the steps and into the pool. They took it slowly, allowing Steve to spend several minutes on each step to get used to the feeling of the water around his ankles, his knees, his hips. He looked nervous the whole time, but Billy was right there every step of the way, never taking his hands out of Steve’s, keeping his eyes planted firmly on those doe eyes he loved so much.
“Lay back for me, okay, pretty boy? I’ve got you,” Billy promised, letting Steve rest his head back on his shoulder as Steve brought his legs up so he could float. Billy kept his hands on Steve, one hand resting atop his abdomen and the other on Steve’s upper arm, keeping him from floating away. “Close your eyes.”
“Billy,” Steve whined but did it anyway. Because Steve trusts him, really trusts him.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear. We’re just floating here, right? It’s the middle of the day,” Billy tried, remembering the way Steve had clung to that thought while panicking. “You can feel the sun, yeah? All that heat warming you up, and you didn’t put sunscreen on that pale-ass skin so you’re gonna burn and—”
“I get it.”
“Right, anyway. But feel that? The water’s so gentle, it’s holding you up, keeping you cool in all this heat. It’s not out here to hurt you. And you can feel me around you, too, yeah? Those demo-fuckers are all gone now, but even if they weren’t I’d be here to protect you. I can take ‘em too. Who’s the certified lifeguard here?”
“Actually, both of us,” Steve laughed, still keeping his eyes closed but allowing a smile to warm up his face. “They asked me back this summer and I said no.”
“Guess I should be thanking you for my job then, huh?”
“Yeah, I think you should make it up to me, Bee. Otherwise, you’d be the one in the tight shorts scooping ice cream,” Steve teased.
“You fuckin’ wish,” Billy laughed, knowing he’d have rathered taken any job over the one that forced Steve to wear that ridiculous sailor getup. But damn, did his pretty boy somehow pull it off. “How’d you want me to make it up to you?”
“A kiss sounds nice.” Steve peeked his eyes open for that, his expression absolutely radiant in the summer sun. His laugh was infectious as Billy grabbed onto him tighter than, pulling Steve upright so he could press a kiss to his lips. He could really only taste chlorine and the lingering saltiness of the tears Steve had shed while telling that story, and it was a rather sloppy kiss by his own standards, but Billy wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.
“See? You’ve survived twenty whole minutes out here,” Billy whispered when he pulled back just enough to breathe, lips still hovering over Steve’s. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“How could I not be? I have my own personal lifeguard,” Steve answered lightly, though allowed his features to soften when he pulled his face back enough to meet Billy’s eyes. “Thank you.”
“I’ll kiss you anytime, you don’t have to thank me.”
“You know what I mean, you ass,” Steve groaned, though the smile never faded. “Can we get out now? Try again later?”
“Only if you come shower with me,” Billy answered, though was already steering both of them to the ladder.
“You’re terrible.”
“You love that about me,” Billy beamed as they both climbed out of the pool, tossing a towel over to Steve to dry off. Steve’s hands were shaking a little but the tension had disappeared from his shoulders, expression open and bright as he watched Billy dry off.
“I really do,” Steve answered. “Let’s get inside. I don’t wanna see this pool again today.”
It would take a lot of work to get Steve back to the comfort he once felt in the water, and maybe he’d never be fully okay with it again, but at least now Billy knew. He could be there for him in any way Steve would let him.