#hugely inspired by an interaction I saw between my dad (rip king) and my 18y/o brother

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

Big fan of Billy being super strong. Like, stronger than he looks, and he looks strong.

Headcanons and au’s where he’s disabled in some aspect after s3 are so near and dear to my heart, but I also take guilty pleasure in making him an unstoppable force sometimes. Just. Billy being built like a fucking bear, but also having learned to embrace his softer side again through his partner, because he is soft somewhere in there. Always has been.

Not to say that he doesn’t still get angry.

Maybe a few years later after he graduates and is settled into an apartment with Steve (or Eddie, Jonathan, Argyle, etc.), he has more of a rapport with the party. He’s not necessarily ruffling Dustin’s hair or giving Will the gay talk, but he’s around them and they don’t mind each other. He has playful banter with Max and maybe he even finds himself shooting hoops with Lucas every now and again.

He’s friendly with these kids, long story short. So when something happens like Troy Walsh and James follow Dustin on his way over to meet up at the apartment for D&D, because Steve and Billy let the party host there sometimes, Billy gets rightfully pissed.

Catches the kids out on his lawn, Dustin pinned on his back as Troy hovers over him and all of the other kids are screaming. He yells, sharp and quick and stomps over, just in time to startle Troy back before he’s able to land even a single punch. Steve is in the background trying to help Dustin to his feet and check for any injuries while Billy just fucking glares at this kid.

“Get lost,” Billy says.

Squares his shoulders and stands his ground, firmly placed between Troy and Dustin.

The kid looks scared. He swallows, takes a careful step back after he seems to assess that Billy is less of an angry parent and more of an impatient (and reckless) older brother. But then he smirks and reaches over to smack James’ arm.

“Sorry,” he muses. “Didn’t realize the fag brigade were official nerd protectors.”

Somewhere behind Billy, Steve drops Dustin as he’s attempting to help him to his feet, quickly scrambling to grab his hand again and hoist him up. Because he knows something that even Billy himself apparently doesn’t.

The blond is nice now. Downright pleasant to be around, even. He’s worked like hell to get here and he prides himself on being reformed. On being better than he used to be.

Something in his brain switches off. Steve sets a hand on his shoulder and Billy shrugs it off, taking a large stride forward and snatching the collar of Troy’s shirt. He doesn’t really think as he does it. Yanks him forward and grabs his thigh, and hoists him up into the air, kicking and screaming to no avail.

Like this kid weighs nothing at all.

James has retreated to the curb, yelling to put him down, put him down!

But Billy doesn’t budge. He merely bends his elbows and lowers Troy just enough to get their faces close.

In this blinding, white hot rage as brilliant as the glare off of a windshield in summer, Billy can’t even get the words out. Clenches his jaw. Unclenches. Fights the urge to throw this kid straight into the fucking sun.

Then he hears Steve behind him again, ushering the kids back and towards the house.

As silly as it is, that’s what breaks him. Hearing Steve’s voice, the man he loves, simply talking. Being naturally good as Steve always has been without trying — he can put on a show of playing the supreme bitch, but it falls flat somewhere in the delivery. Always.

Because he’s sweet and kind and he cares so much and he doesn’t deserve to be called that word. That horrible, horrible word that Billy has come to hate.

But he’s never hated it like he does right now. Not when it was hurled at him in school, or at home by his own flesh and blood.

But when it was casually directed at Steve. His Steve.

That lets the words flow easy.

“Don’t come around here again,” he hisses. “Don’t talk to or so much as even look at these kids or I’ll find out about it and I will hunt you down, you little shit.” Billy’s knuckles are white and his arms are shaking, but he doesn’t relax his grip for even a second. Troy whimpers, tears streaming down his face. “Am I clear?”

“Yes sir,” Troy manages between sniffles.

Billy finally lowers him back to the earth. The kid’s legs wobble when his shoes meet the ground, and the blond is half convinced that he only stays standing because Billy keeps his fist tangled in the front of his shirt. Stares at him with stern eyes for a moment longer before he shoves him towards his friend, still standing at the curb, and sends him tumbling down on the grass.

“Get the fuck off my lawn.”

The two boys scramble to their bikes and take off down the street without their asses so much as touching their seats.

A moment of silence persists after that. Billy pushes both hands into his hair and sighs, long and frustrated, and just… stands there. The kids are all still checking on Dustin, but Steve carefully approaches his partner from behind.

He knows that Billy gets skittish sometimes when he’s angry. That he sometimes doesn’t appreciate being touched. So he carefully sets a hand on his shoulder and squeezes when he doesn’t shrug him off.

“Bill?” Steve tries. “You okay?”

Of course Steve would ask him if he’s okay. Billy says nothing for half of a beat, and when Steve gently turns him around, he’s met with two huge eyes filled to the brim with with water. Billy blinks and it all comes crashing down in under a second.

He can feel his eyes already burning. Can feel the sobs begin to stir in his chest where he tries to keep them buried unsuccessfully.

Steve just guides him forward and wraps his arms around him protectively. Cradles him close with a one hand cupped over the back of his head and the other rubbing circles into his back.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Steve croons. “You’re alright.”

Billy’s breath stutters as he slumps into Steve, thankful that the brunet is able to take his weight. He doesn’t feel like standing himself right now but he really doesn’t feel like trying to clean grass blood out of his jeans.

He isn’t sure how long they stand there, but he moans feebly when his eyes run dry. Let’s Steve push him back enough to cup his face in his hands.

Billy knows he must look ridiculous. His face always blotches his horrible red and his eyes get puffy when he cries, but Steve still smiles at him nonetheless. Brushes his thumbs over his cheekbones and admires him closely.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says hoarsely. Bites his lip to keep it from quivering. “I didn’t mean to get mad.”

“No one means to get mad, it’s just something that happens sometimes.” Steve presses their foreheads together and breathes in deep, guiding Billy’s breaths. “You can’t expect to not get mad ever, okay? The most you can do is learn how to control your reactions when you do.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, baby, we’ll work on it. For now, let’s just focus on making you feel better.”

A kiss gets pressed to his nose and Billy nods. Sniffles when Steve leans away and takes hold of his hand so he can guide him up the walkway to their porch.

Inside, the kids settle around the coffee table, still shaken up but calming down once they tap into the pantry for snacks. Steve sits Billy down on the couch and treats him like a damn princess, bringing him food and swaddling him in blankets and kissing his face until he’s sufficiently simmered down. Until his eyelids are heavy and he’s slouching into the sofa cushions.

Crying always takes it out of him. Steve seems to delight at his sleepy posture, plopping down on the couch next to him and setting his chin on his shoulder.

The kids have started working to set up their game. Dustin throws on a tape with strange medieval music that Billy would normally tease him for, but right now he can’t bring himself to care about anything other than the warm body pressing against his side.

“How’re you feeling, my boy?” Steve whispers.

Smooths a hand over the top of Billy’s blanket right over his chest and earns a little smile.

“Better.”

“Good, I really hate it when you cry. Makes me wanna fight god.” The two of them share a chuckle and Steve brushes his lips against the corner of Billy’s jaw. “I do like seeing you use your muscles, though.”

For emphasis, he finds Billy’s bicep under the blanket and squeezes it. The blond’s smile fades momentarily.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Dude, you bench pressed a whole teenager. That was the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve lilts, leaning closer into his side. “And I’ve seen some pretty cool shit.”

Billy snorts. Can’t help that he’s grinning from ear to ear when Steve starts kissing him again.

“You’re crazy.”

“If by crazy you mean super smart and handsome, then yeah, consider me batshit.”

“Dork,” Billy teases. Stretches an arm around Steve’s shoulders and envelops him in the warmth of the blanket. “I bet Walsh is gonna be scared of heights now, though.”

Steve snickers.

“And fags.”

They both start giggling hysterically, only stopping when Steve sees fit to turn Billy’s face towards him and mash their lips together.

So, Billy might not be as mellowed out as he previously thought, but he’s working on it.

They’re working on it. Together.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #tw homophobia #hugely inspired by an interaction I saw between my dad (rip king) and my 18y/o brother #where my brother was like bucking up to him trying to start a fight and my dad just picked his ass up #and pressed him flush against the ceiling #so yeah #def some of the scariest shit I’ve ever seen #and it’s not even the craziest thing I’ve ever seen him pick up so #anyway #Billy not being good at regulating his emotions? yes absolutely #him having crazy bursts of strength when he’s angry? yes absolutely #my writing #rambles #ficlet #unedited