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Steve frowns down at his chicken scratch scrawl and wonders when exactly it was that he lost his fucking mind. It’s the fifth time this month that he’s done this, lurking around after dark like a creep all to slip a note into Billy’s mailbox.
A love note.
Wait. He doesn’t love Billy. Or maybe he does? Fuck. All Steve knows is that Billy Hargrove somehow survived the unsurvivable last summer and his newfound presence in Steve’s life has scrambled his brain.
-
Billy hadn’t come around right away, in fact he’d avoided them all like the plague following his release from the hospital, moving into an apartment across town and seemingly determined that he didn’t need anyone’s help.
Steve had still tried at first, had knocked on Billy’s door more times than he could count because sure, they’d never been friends, but he thought the guy might’ve needed someone to talk to after everything. Steve had sure as hell needed someone back then.
Steve had also been wrong.
He’d only known the guy was still kicking in there due to his last attempt at an olive branch when the door had finally swung open to reveal a very angry Max who told him, in no uncertain terms, where he should shove his concerns.
It wasn’t until Christmas Eve that Steve saw Billy again. Max having apparently had enough of Billy’s hermit routine and with the help of El had somehow managed to convince her brother into joining them for dinner at the Byers.
Steve had spent the majority of the evening marvelling over Billy, mentally categorising all the changes he noted in the boy he thought he’d known. Watched on in awe as Billy ruffled Max’s hair with begrudging affection, how he let El play with his curls and twist them up into a braid without batting an eyelash.
Billy was the first to jump up and offer to clear the table after dinner and stood arm to arm with Joyce, scarred hands gently washing dishes from a set of which he’d once cracked over Steve’s head, the two of them talking in hushed voices as the kids hollered like animals from the living room.
There were physical changes that Steve noted too. The scars were an obvious one, twisting out like tendrils from the centre of his palm to wrap around his wrists. Steve knew there must be more hidden under Billy’s sweater – Billy Hargrove wearing a fucking sweater was another thing he’d never thought he’d see – from where the Mindflayer stabbed through his chest.
Billy seemed smaller somehow, quieter but also oddly loose, like something he’d been carrying his whole life had slipped off his shoulders.
Then Billy had smiled at something El whispered into his ear, and it was a real smile, not any of the ones that Steve had witnessed before that’s for sure. Not a smirk or the cruel twist of his lips that Billy wore in high school. This was something else, this was Billy’s eyes crinkling at the corners and a dimple forming on his cheek when he bared those pretty white teeth.
It was in that moment, with Billy’s smile feeling like sunshine beaming on his face, Steve just knew it.
He was fucked.
-
Things didn’t change much following that night, hell, Billy hadn’t even talked to him at the Byers. They did talk a few weeks later when Billy was dragged into Family Video with Max hanging off one arm and El on the other.
Billy calls him Harrington; asks how long he’s been working there and shoots him a small smile as they’re leaving. All in all, it’s a rather uneventful encounter but that didn’t stop Steve’s own personal band of butterflies kicking up a riot in his stomach when Billy’s hand grazed his own during the exchange of tapes.
None of this comes as a total surprise for Steve, he’s a hopeless romantic at heart. He could fall in love with four different people and daydream about their future together in the duration of a single bus journey. Steve had been mulling over how he would propose to Nancy when that day came and they’d only been dating for two months at that point.
Steve’s always given his heart out too easily, feels things too deeply. Steve likes being in love. Misses it.
He’s not a complete weirdo though, he didn’t escalate from a brief crush to the whole love note debacle over a single helping of Billy Hargrove’s smile and a two-minute chat in his workplace. No, the universe drops Billy in Steve’s lap like a present only two weeks after that brief encounter.
The universe being Max of course.
Max stalks into Family Video with a sour faced Billy trailing behind her and Steve perks up behind from his spot behind the counter, already formulating ideas to put that pretty smile back on his face again.
“I have some things I need to do this afternoon,” Max says, all formal like a businessman with a blocked-out calendar. “I need you to watch Billy.”
“I don’t need to be watched.” Billy huffs.
Steve protests at the same time, “I’m at work.”
“Yeah, you do. Owens said.” Max says, addressing Billy before rounding on Steve and throwing a vague hand out at the empty store. “There’s literally nobody here asshole, have him stack shelves or something.”
Robin chooses then to stroll out of the office at the back of the store, “I’ll take him, he can rewind my tapes for me.”
“Max.” Billy whines, turning pleading eyes on his sister. “Come on shitbird, I’m fine.”
Max glares right back. “Do you want me to call Owens? Or would you rather sit with my mom all afternoon?”
Billy deflates at that, his shoulders visibly slumping as he throws his hands up in surrender and following Robin into the back room, dragging his feet the whole time. Steve blinks dumbly at Max when she directs her glare his way once Billy is out of sight.
“Just keep an eye on him, alright?” Max sighs. “I’ll be back to pick him up at three.”
“Okay,” Steve says, still trying to understand why he’s essentially been given custody of Billy. “Why can’t he be on his own? Is he alright?”
Max rolls her eyes. “Idiot had a bad reaction to some of his medication last week. Found him passed out in a pool of his own vomit,” she smirks when Steve’s eyes widen. “Don’t freak, he’s stopped taking it now, Owens just mandated the babysitting for a few days as a precaution.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good, but why did you bring him here? Joyce would have definitely watched him.”
“Billy wants to apologise to you for the whole, you know,” Max says, miming an invisible plate hitting her head. “He’s just being a whiny baby about it.”
At that, Max slaps a hand onto the counter like they’d settled some kind of deal and turns to march out of the door as the bell chimes above her head. Steve cranes his neck to peer into the open door of the office trying to get a look at Billy who he finds slumped in his chair with an adorable pout on this face, stabbing at the rewind button like it personally offended him.
“Dingus!” Robin drawls behind him, cutting off his creepy staring. “Are you planning on actually answering the phone or are you waiting for something in particular?”
Steve flushes at being caught out but dutifully does as he’s asked and continues to keep himself busy, leaves Robin to check in on Billy until she’s waving him away for his lunch hour. Usually, Steve would drive somewhere on his break, anywhere that isn’t Family Video normally does the trick but today he has other plans.
Steve swings by the diner and rushes his way through an order of two hamburger specials and a coffee for Robin before practically speeding back to the store. Robin takes the cup that Steve shoves into her hand and fixes him with an odd look that he ignores as he hustles into the back.
“Hey Billy,” Steve says, wincing when Billy flinches slightly at the sound of his voice. “I, um I didn’t know if you were hungry, but I got you something just in case.”
“You did?”
“Yeah man of course. You like burgers, right?”
“Yeah,” Billy replies, almost shyly. “Thanks Harrington.”
Steve beams and pulls out a chair to settle close to Billy, they mostly eat in silence but it’s not uncomfortable. Billy busies himself with disposing of their mess once he’s finished eating and Steve takes the time to partake in his new favourite activity of watching the other boy. Has to clear his throat and pretend he wasn’t staring when Billy returns to his seat.
“Look, Harrington… I –”
“Could you call me Steve?” Steve asks, regretting it immediately when his cheeks heat up. “I mean, you don’t have to -”
“No, it’s – Steve,” Billy says, inexplicably pink starts to bloom over his face too. “I wanted to apologise. For all the shit last year, I was going through some shit and it’s not an excuse but…” he trails off, jaw working before he visibly steels himself, “I’m sorry alright. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I mean, it’s not okay what you did but you know that right?” Steve asks, returning the nod that Billy quickly answers with. “So, yeah, we are fine. I think you’ve more than made up for it Billy with you know, everything.”
“Okay. Thanks. I, I wanted to apologise before… everything but.”
“But?”
“I was scared. Hargroves don’t apologise but I’m trying to be better. Better than him.”
Steve doesn’t have the full picture, only the information that El unknowingly revealed without Billy’s consent while he was still in a coma. The things she had seen while in his head, like Billy’s mom leaving him and how his dad was an abusive prick. That Billy had been in love with a boy that he was kissing on a beach in his happy memories.
Steve had tried not to think too hard about that last part. Thinks about it all the time.
“I think,” Steve starts, musing over what to say. “Having people to lean on helps me when I’m feeling scared. So, if you’re in the market for friends, I’m offering and Rob too, if you’ll have us.”
Billy’s eyes roam over his face and Steve tries to project his expression into something comforting and hopeful, hopes that Billy can find what he’s searching for there. Holds his breath as Billy ducks his gaze, Steve’s own eyes flick downwards to look in wonder at the thick eyelashes that fan across Billy’s freckle dusted cheeks.
And when Billy smiles, dimple and all, Steve’s breath is all but punched out of his lungs.
The first note reaches Billy’s mailbox that night.
-
After that day, it feels sort of like Billy’s been there the whole time, slotting effortlessly between Robin and Steve like there had always been an empty slot to fill. Max had been satisfied that they’d managed to keep her brother alive and approves of sending him off into their capable hands on what she describes as play dates which never fails to make Billy scowl.
Steve’s found that when Billy isn’t putting on a show for the rest of the world, he’s surprisingly funny, the other boy is always ready with a quip or a story that gets Steve in trouble at work on more occasions than he can recall. Billy’s intelligent too, he and Robin have these conversations about poetry and literature that often leave Steve scratching his head but it’s always worth it to watch Billy when he’s passionate about something.
The problem is that the more time that Steve spends with Billy, his little crush morphs into a full-blown infatuation. A scribbling down love notes kind of problem, leaving them in Billy’s mailbox like a kid slipping a gum wrapper into their crush’s locker. It’s a problem that Steve couldn’t stop himself from doing if he tried, he’d panicked after the first one, thought it would be glaringly obvious who it was from, but Billy’s never brought it up and Steve hasn’t told anyone.
Until now that is.
They’re at the diner when Billy pulls the scrap of paper out of his overalls and Steve’s brain screeches to a stop when he asks if anyone else has been getting weird shit in the mail. To his horror, Robin snatches the note out of Billy’s fist before he can blink.
“Oh my god,” Robin says slowly, fending off Billy’s grabby hands. “Whoever is sending these has got it bad.” She smooths out the note and clears her throat, “Billy, you smiled at me today, the kind of smile you make where your cheeks dimple and the sun was shining just right into the sky-blue ocean of your eyes. I love your eyes, looking into them is like taking a dip on a warm day. Your smile is sunshine and you make me feel like summer.”
Billy groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Jesus Robin, the fuck is wrong with you? Give it back.”
“I wouldn’t mind spending summer forever with you,” Robin goes on, ignoring Billy entirely. “I love the way that- Hey!”
Steve breathes a sigh of relief when Billy rips the slip of paper out of Robin’s grip. This is probably one of the most mortifying things that’s ever happened to him, and he worked at fucking Scoops last year in that uniform.
“How many of these things have you gotten?!” Robin asks with a teasing grin.
“Like six or seven?”
“Who do you think is sending them?”
“Well gee Rob I don’t know, I guess that’s the idea of a secret admirer.”
Robin rolls her eyes and turns on Steve instead. “You’re awfully quiet, do you have any guesses? Have you seen anyone around giving old Billy boy the eye?”
“Uh,” Steve says, tries to physically push away the warmth creeping to his cheeks. “I- I don’t think so.”
Robin narrows her eyes at him and studies his face, she opens her mouth to speak, probably to say something incriminating when Steve’s saved by the bell that is Heather dropping into the booth beside her.
Steve feigns a headache while the trio are distracted and all but bolts out of the diner.
-
“Do you know Chris Jacobs?” Billy comes out with apropos of nothing a few days later.
It’s Saturday night which means it’s movie night and Steve is stretched out on the sofa with Billy’s ankles resting in his lap while Robin curls up in the armchair monopolising the popcorn.
“Jacobs? Yeah,” Steve replies absentmindedly, his focus split between the movie and the tiny circles his thumb is smoothing into Billy’s ankle. “He was my science partner before graduation. Nice guy. Why’d you ask?”
Billy’s silence is enough for Steve to tear his eyes away from the screen. “Um. Don’t make shit weird.”
“What would I be weird about?” Steve snorts. “Was he like, talking shit about me or something?”
“He asked me to meet him last night at the Quarry,” Billy says hesitantly. “I wasn’t going to go at first, you know driving at night sometimes still wigs me out, but he’s been hanging around the shop a lot and I figured I’d find out what his deal is.”
Steve’s heart throbs in his chest at the thought of Billy being up there in the dark. Jacobs is a big guy, sure, but he would be more than useless in the face of flower faced monsters.
“Dude, whatever it is, you know you can tell us.” Steve pulls himself upright to show he’s paying attention when Billy starts to nervously pick at the blanket. “Did he try and start something with you?”
“He kissed me.”
Steve takes back every nice thing he’s ever said about Chris fucking Jacobs. Chris Jacobs is probably the worst person in the whole fucking world and Steve will probably have to kill him.
“Okay,” Steve takes a deep breath, tries his best to tamp down his sudden murderous rage and the urge to tear the guy from limb to limb. “Okay.”
Robin thankfully intervenes when all Steve can follow that up with is his best imitation of a goldfish.
“Did you kiss him back” Robin asks.
Billy frowns. “I thought it was a prank maybe? Like, the guys from the football team were going to jump out from the bushes with a Polaroid and call me a faggot but nothing happened.”
“Do you like him?” Robin presses with a wiggle of her brows. Steve has to try very hard not to scream or burst into tears like a child. “Would you go out with him again if he asked?”
“He wouldn’t be my first pick but it’s not like I have a line of dudes waiting down the block for me in fucking Hawkins. He’s supposed to be coming over to my place to watch a movie tomorrow so,” Billy shrugs, his nose scrunching up in the way that usually makes Steve’s heart skip a beat when he adds, “and, uh. Apparently, he’s the one who has been leaving those notes for me, so I guess he must really like me.”
Steve’s heart sinks a little further in his chest at the words. Distantly he registers an odd noise, something wet sounding, somewhere between a gasp and a gag. Realises that he’s the one making it a second later when Robin and Billy turn questioning eyes on him.
“S-Sorry,” Steve stutters, hands trembling as he climbs off the couch. “Bathroom. I need… Yeah.”
Steve flicks the lock on the bathroom door and splashes some water on his face to try and catch his breath. His mouth fills with saliva as Steve rubs at his chest; his heart is beating so fast it’s bordering on painful. It would be just typical for Steve to die of a heart attack at nineteen all because the boy he likes kisses someone else. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, kicking himself for not acting on his crush before now and wondering if he’s going to have to endure Billy bringing Chris Jacobs around as his fucking boyfriend.
Once he’s had a small breakdown about that thought, it’s yet another ten minutes since he’s been holed up in here. Steve realises on some level that he can’t exactly stay in here all night, so he pulls himself together enough to leave the safety of the bathroom and face the people downstairs, it’s quiet when he pads into the living room and notices Billy’s no longer on the couch.
“Where’d Billy go?”
“Oh,” Robin says airily. “He left.”
“He left?!”
“Hm, he thinks you’re some kind of homophobic dick now.”
“What?! That’s – He knows that I know he’s gay. That you’re gay.”
“Yup,” Robin says, popping the p with relish. “He said there’s a difference between knowing it and actually hearing about it and judging by the look on your face you were 'clearly disgusted by it'.”
“I. He…” Steve splutters. “Did you at least tell him that I’m not?”
“Sooo,” Robin drawls instead of answering his question. “How long have you been penning love notes to Billy Hargrove?”
Steve’s head goes so hot so quickly that he worries his poor brain is frying up there.
“What?”
“How long,” Robin repeats calmly. “Have you been writing letters gushing over Billy’s eyes and who knows what else.”
Steve squirms, he can never lie to Robin. “A couple of months.”
“Jesus Christ Dingus you’re an idiot. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was scared Robin, he never mentioned the letters, so I didn’t know if he even liked them and then we got closer and now he’s like, my best friend,” Steve rushes on when Robin raises a brow, “after you obviously! It’s just hard Rob; I really like him.”
“I know it’s scary, but you need to talk to him Steve,” Robin squeezes his shoulder and adds, “does Billy even know you like guys, because it’s news to me!”
“It’s a new thing.”
“How new?”
“Christmas Eve?” Steve mumbles sheepishly.
Robin rolls her eyes. “I love you, but you’re hopeless and now some dude is taking credit for your disgustingly sappy nature.”
“Don’t remind me,” Steve groans. “How the fuck does he even know about the notes to lie about it?”
“He didn’t. I was suspicious when you bailed so I asked Billy what exactly had been said. Billy was the one who asked that Chris guy if he had been sending him things after he kissed him. He’s just a lucky opportunist I guess?”
Steve faceplants into the couch with a pathetic whine that he smothers into a throw pillow.
“It’s time to put your big boy pants on Stevie,” Robin grins, ruffling his hair. “I’ve got a feeling that everything will work out. You just gotta be brave and talk to him.”
-
Steve’s miserable the next day.
Billy refuses to take his calls, and Max is ignoring him on the walkie. Steve’s chest hasn’t stopped hurting since last night, it feels like his heart nosedived into a crash landing and had to be scraped off the asphalt. He didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any worse until Chris fucking Jacobs saunters through the door of Family Video.
“Harrington,” Jacobs greets him with a nod. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” Steve grits out, doesn’t give a fuck if Keith gives him shit for being rude to customers.
“Jesus, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? You need to get laid Harrington.” Jacobs jokes, stupid smarmy smile fixed on his face. “Speaking of getting laid, you got any movie recommendations for a hot date?”
Steve’s knuckles itch. “No.”
“Isn’t that your job?” Jacobs furrows his brow; apparently unaware he’s only one mere word away from having his nose broken. “Got any good horrors in? They’re always a good opportunity to get close.”
Steve’s rounding the counter before he even realises it, roughly shoving Chris fucking Jacobs against a shelf hard enough that the tapes rattle in their boxes. Jacobs looks stunned, his hands scrabble uselessly at where Steve has an iron grip on his shirt, they’re nose to nose and Steve’s breathing hard, almost snarling in his face when Robin’s voice registers in his brain.
“Steve!” Robin yells, latching onto his vest to drag him off the other boy. “Don’t. You’ll get fired idiot!”
“What the fuck is your problem Harrington?” Jacobs spits with rage. “You’re a fucking psycho.”
“Fuck you.”
“Steve, go wait in the back.” Robin snaps.
Steve twists out of her grip and storms away, he’s breathing heavily through his nose when he slams the door behind him. Adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he tugs harshly on his hair in an attempt to ground himself, Steve doesn’t get into fights, the last time he’d even had a fight was with Billy he thinks somewhat hysterically. He’s toast if Keith finds out he fucking assaulted a paying customer. The soft click of the door in the quiet room lets him know that Robin has joined him.
“Good job Steve,” she deadpans. “I had to give him like, ten rentals for free to stop him reporting you. The guy has shitty taste in movies too.”
“Sorry,” Steve mutters, because he is. “I was being stupid.”
Robin’s face softens considerably. “Why don’t you go home? Try and call Billy again, I’d rather work on my own than have you spiralling and attacking members of the general public. The ones kissing your crush aside.”
“Rob.”
“Go home Stevie, I’ve got this, you go get your man.”
Steve tries Billy’s apartment on his way home but he’s either not home or ignoring answering the door in case it’s Steve. Probably the latter. His voicemail is empty when Steve finally gets home and he flops onto the couch to wallow. Wishes he’d at least been able to land a punch earlier, spares himself a brief fantasy of the sound of Jacob’s nose crunching under his knuckles and prays the guy keeps his promise of silence.
The last thing Steve needs right now is a lecture from his dad if he gets fired.
As lost in his thoughts as he is, it takes him a second too long to realise someone is knocking on his door. Steve tilts his head towards the sound in confusion, nobody who Steve surrounds himself with knock. Billy and Robin have keys, and the kids know where the spare is nestled under the fake rock at the front, he wonders briefly if it’s Jacobs gearing up for round two with a couple of his buddies in tow and wouldn’t that just be fantastic.
Steve trudges towards the door anyway, thinks what’s a broken face compared to a broken heart and snorts to himself at his dramatics. He’s pathetic.
“Oh,” Steve gasps when the open door reveals the very last person that he thought it’d be. “Billy! Do you want to come in?”
“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea Steve.”
“Um, okay, I wanted to talk to you but I –”
“Look Steve,” Billy cuts him off. “I know I can’t just expect you to be okay with it, I know it’s ‘wrong’ and all but I thought that you could just –”
This time Steve interrupts. “I am okay with it!”
“Please. You looked like you were going to fucking hurl last night and now you’re… what, just shoving Chris about at the video store because he likes guys?”
“It’s not because he fucking likes guys!”
“Then what?” Billy throws his hands up. “What’s the fucking problem asshole?”
“I wrote the fucking notes Billy!” Steve fumes, the volume of his voice raising with each word until he’s yelling. “It was me. I’m the one who is falling in love with you, not Jacobs the fucking lying prick.”
It’s silent following Steve’s admission. Billy looks stricken, wide eyed and slack jawed like Steve’s hauled off and punched him in the face.
“Are you going to say anything?” Steve huffs petulantly, he feels stupid and ashamed, crosses his arms over his chest when Billy continues to stare at him wordlessly. “Nothing has to change between us, obviously you don’t feel the same way and if you don’t want to be friends anymore then that’s fine, but you could at least -”
Steve’s rant is cut short because suddenly Billy is in his face and Billy is kissing him. Soft, plump lips press insistently against his, but all too quickly they pull away before Steve can even start to enjoy it.
“Sorry.” Billy breathes and if it’s possible, he looks even more devastated than before. “I should have asked before I did that, are you -”
Steve would laugh at the awkward way they keep cutting each other off, but his thoughts have been stolen by that kiss, and he surges forward to reclaim Billy’s mouth. Steve winds his arms around his neck and deepens the kiss, licks messily at the seam of his lips, and Billy lets him in, moaning at the first wet slide of his tongue against Steve’s
Steve whimpers into the kiss when Billy’s hands leave his hips to slide under his shirt, hot palms and calloused fingers sliding possessively over his skin. A little part of Steve’s brain that’s still online reminds him that they’re out in the open, standing on his porch and he pulls away but he doesn’t move far, leaves his lips so close that Steve can feel Billy’s breath mingle with his own.
“Come inside,” Steve murmurs against Billy’s lips. “I’m pissed at you by the way; you’re telling me we could have been doing this the whole time?” Steve can’t stop admiring his face, doesn’t want to ever stop, Billy catches Steve’s bottom lip between his and then they’re kissing again though it’s less hurried this time. Billy presses a series of sweet, lingering pecks to his lips as he guides them through the open front door while they’re still wrapped around each other.
“Do you remember what you said to me that day at the video store?” Billy breathes between kisses. “If you’re in the market for a boyfriend this time, I’m offering, if you’ll have me.”
Steve grins, bracketing Billy’s body against the door with his own and smearing open mouthed kisses to his neck. “Call your date and tell him you have to cancel because your boyfriend said so. And tell him that his shitty tapes are due back on Tuesday.”