Add A Link and See It Grow
Today’s the last day of the Harringrove Week of Love! The final prompt I chose was Found Family! Read this here or on ao3 posted by ej_writer !
Word Count: 7,305
Rating: T
“Are you serious right now Nancy?”
It was 7:30 at night when Steve heard his doorbell ring and, upon answering it, was met with a swarm of middle schoolers rushing into his house. He had plans to go out to the quarry with Billy in like, a half hour, he could not afford to be the babysitter.
“I’m sorry, Steve. My mom was supposed to watch the kids but she had to go out so she asked me to babysit, but I already told Joyce and Jon I’d help them plan Will's birthday party and it’s only a few days away now and-“ Nancy talked about a thousand miles a minute as she tried to justify dumping the brats on him.
“Whatever, it’s, fine.” It wasn’t, but it wasn’t worth arguing over either. “Aren’t they old enough to watch themselves at this point?”
Nancy didn’t even respond to that, just gave him a stern look that said ‘you’re watching these kids no matter what, get over it.’ She crossed her arms and squinted at him and, even if it didn’t really matter if he agreed, his resolve broke. “Alright, fine.”
She smiled and thanked him before hurrying back to Jonathan’s still running car. Steve sighed and braced himself before turning around to go back inside. The brats were known for wreaking havoc in a matter of minutes, and he wasn't looking to let them destroy his parents’ house.
In the five minutes he was outside they’d already raided the fridge of all of his pop, added the leaf to his dining table (how did they even know where that thing was?), had game pieces and boards thrown all over the place, and made a stack of their bags in the corner of his living room.
“Wait a second, is this a sleepover?” Steve groaned at all of the overenthusiastic nods he received. “Where am I supposed to put all of you little shits?”
Dustin shrugged. “You have enough rooms in this place to house the whole neighborhood. I think you’ll be fine.”
“Well, since nobody felt the need to run this by me first, I’m already busy. Can you dipshits handle yourselves for like, two hours?”
The look on Mikes face perfectly mirrored the one his sister had given Steve at the door. “Dude, Nancy will kill you if she found out you left us here alone.”
“Not if I kill her first for dumping all of you on me.” The threat had still stuck, she absolutely would kill Steve. There was no way he could get away with leaving them unattended.
He figured he could just call Billy and cancel, but that was really the last thing he wanted to do. He tried to come up with some compromise, but with all the kids pulling up chairs to his dining table with intentions of staying all night, he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.
Dialing Billy’s number into the kitchen phone, he walks around the corner into the bathroom, shutting himself in as best he can around the phone's cord in an attempt at having some semblance of privacy from the six sets of prying ears in the next room, but he hears nothing from the other end.
He let it ring a few more times before he gave up, wrapping the cord back up and hanging the phone back in its slot. This wasn’t going to go over well.
Because it wasn’t like he could just be like ‘hey, I have to go do this, be back in a few’ when what he had been planning on doing was going on a date with Billy Hargrove. They were sneaking around behind the kids' backs, so that just wasn’t a luxury they had.
But Billy wouldn’t answer his phone, so he couldn’t explain the situation to him either, and now Steve was backed into a corner, and exponentially screwed.
At first, he was trying to just stay out of the kids’ hair, hover in the corner while they did their thing just to make sure they didn’t get it of hand, but he was feeling too jittery and nervous, so he pulled up one of the thousand extra dining chairs his mother kept around for dinner parties and joined in their stupid game.
For once, they were playing normal people games instead of that role playing thing he couldn't wrap his head around, so he could actually understand what was happening enough to participate.
Not that that meant he ever won, being outsmarted by these kids was his specialty. Round after round they ran circles around him, and he was getting frustrated enough he was considering making them sleep outside.
He was about to throw his cards down and quit for what was probably the tenth time already when he heard the telltale sound of Billy’s Camaro pulling into his driveway.
That was really bad. He’d stood Billy up, and he’d be pissed, he couldn’t let him just barge in here and make a scene in front of the kids. Because not only would that mean they knew Steve was not crushing on some imaginary girl or whatever he’d made up to thwart their suspicions, but that he was with Billy Hargrove of all people. They’d never let it go.
He shot a quick look at Max, who no doubt would’ve been able to recognize the sound of her own brother's car, hoping to somehow communicate to her to keep these other assholes occupied while he dealt with this. He was pretty sure Max already knew about them anyways.
Forfeiting again, he got up from the table and hurried towards the front doors.
Will called after him with a sympathetic, “It’s just a game, Steve!” which thankfully meant they either hadn’t heard or hadn’t recognized the sound of Billy’s car.
Holding up the pack of camels he always kept in his pocket, he turned around to face the kids, backing towards the door still. “Just need a smoke break.”
That seemed to appease them, and they went back to what they were doing. He practically ran the rest of the way to the door, as he opened and closed it before they could see the boy on the stoop.
Billy was standing there probably about to lay on the doorbell, something he always did just to drive Steve crazy, and seemed surprised at the way he came all the way outside and shut the door behind himself. “Listen, I’m on babysitting duty, so I kind of can’t do this right now.”
At the same time Billy’s face fell, Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. This wasn’t about their rendezvous, turning up at Steve’s house usually meant he needed something, and judging from the way his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and the way he was worrying his lip between his teeth, it was something important. “Whatever, Harrington. I’ll get out of your hair.“
“That’s not what I meant.” Steve reached out and put his hand on Billy’s arm to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I want you to stay, I just, I needed you to know they were here.” The additional so you didn’t out us and ruin our lives forever went unsaid, but Billy knew the implications of being caught by the kids.
“I need your first-aid kit“ It was hard for him, asking for help, but these days it was something he needed a lot of.
“Okay.”
Without another word he opened the door and led Billy inside, making him kick off his muddy biker boots before following him up the stairs to where he kept the band aid kit in his bathroom. One of the perks of having a big house was that the kids, from where they were in the dining room, couldn’t see the door, and only heard them go up the steps.
This had become routine for them, Billy showing up at his door in need of a little TLC, and Steve desperate to give it to him, but up to this point they’d been able to evade the kids. He didn’t think it would honestly be all that bad if they knew, Billy’s sister was among them and probably wouldn’t let her friends run too wild with the information, but Billy had made him swear on his life he’d never let them, or anyone else for that matter, find out about it.
Of course he understood that. There was a reason this kept happening, these nights when Billy would show up at his door in need of assistance, and that reason, who’s name happened to be Neil Hargrove, would undoubtedly kill the both of them were he ever to catch word that his son was dating Steve Harrington.
Steve had the displeasure of meeting Neil in person only once in late December, when he’d dropped Max off at her house after a Christmas party at the Byers. Being that he was such a responsible and caring father, or at least that’s what he was for the public eye, he just had to meet the boy who was watching his daughter.
Steve’d been beyond unsettled by the unnecessary firmness of his handshake, the distant look behind his so obviously practiced smile, the way Billy, with his arm in a cast for reasons he wouldn’t tell anyone, loomed in the corner as Neil did his interrogation.
When he was satisfied with the answers he’d been given, sure that Steve wasn’t carting the kids around because he was a creep or something, he’d let him go with a slap to the shoulder that was a little too hard to be friendly, and made Billy, maybe as a show of some sort of old fashioned respect, walk him back to his car.
“Did he do that to you?” Maybe it was because his experience with his own father had made it easier to recognize, but Steve was pretty sure he had a good idea of what was going on here.
Billy kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders squared, defensive in a way that was distinctly un-Billy. The broken arm must have been preventing his fighting instincts from taking over, or maybe it was the guilt from already beating the shit out of Steve once. “Maybe.”
That was enough of an answer for him. “Look, if you ever need anything, just like, I don’t know, come find me or something, man.”
Billy’s head snapped up to look at him. Steve could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think of some response, but that had gotten to him. He kept his lips pressed in a flat line, and stared at Steve like he just grew a second head.
“I’m sorry for lying to you, just, my door is always open, or whatever.” It was extremely awkward, Steve offering help to the boy who’d literally just beat the shit out of him and concussed him like a month ago, but he could see through him.
The scar in his eyebrow didn’t come from their fight, nor did the cast on his arm. Seeing the way Neil acted, the saccharine smile he wore as he made subtle threats on him when he literally did nothing but drive his daughter around, he had enough to figure out that those injuries had been from what Billy had faced once he came home that night.
Billy hadn’t said anything, just scoffed and turned around to go back into his house, but a week later he showed up at Steve’s house, having gotten the address off of their sort of mutual friend Tommy, with a broken nose and bled all over his living room carpet, and the rest was history.
Steve walked him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat, popping open the first-aid kit where it sat on the tiled counter. “Where’re you hurt?”
A nervous habit of his, Billy was chewing on the side of his thumb nail. His gaze flickered between Steve’s face and the framed painting behind him on the wall. “S’my ribs.”
Steve got him to shrug out of the two different jackets he was wearing, his first winter in the Midwest had proved to be far too cold for a Cali-raised boy like Billy, and pull the Henley shirt he had on over his head. The damage hidden underneath was enough to make him sick to his stomach.
Reaching out, Steve gingerly touched the deep purple bruises littering the other boy's chest and ribs. He felt breathless, this was by far the worst he’d ever seen it. “Jesus, Bills.”
Billy wasn’t very good at accepting sympathy from others. It made him feel all squeamish to be fussed over, and Steve was the king of fussing over him. He muttered, “Think there’s a cut towards the back.”
Steve wrapped his fingers around Billy’s forearm and gently pushed his arm up over his head to inspect the damage, and sure enough, there was a gash about 6 inches long on his left side. “What the hell did he do to you?”
Billy sniffs, looks away and says, like it’s nothing, “Steel-toes break the skin easier.”
Every time they did this, Steve’s heart broke into a million little pieces. The nonchalance of it all was the worst part, the way it was so normal for Billy to have his father kick him until his ribs were bruised black and bleeding, it made him so sad to see his Billy that way.
He let Billy put his arm down and crossed his own arms over his chest, “You’re gonna need stitches.”
“You know how to sew.” Another shot right in his heart, Steve didn’t know how much of this he could handle.
“Barely. And this is completely different.” Steve stepped forward and put his hand on the side of Billy’s face, keeping him from looking away again to stare at that stupid painting on the wall. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it, Stevie. Either you do it or I will.” If Billy gave an ultimatum, he meant it.
He definitely didn’t know how to sew, it was a skill considered too feminine to be taught to a son despite its usefulness, so he never learned how, but if Steve didn’t agree he would’ve very much done it and hurt himself a thousand times more in the process just to prove a point
So Steve reluctantly did it, made Billy hold his arm over his head and turn to face the other wall so he could see it better. Not that he was an overly emotional person, or maybe he just wouldn’t admit he was, but the sight before him put tears in his eyes.
Billy caught that, and despite the swell of nervousness in his own chest as he saw Steve threading a needle from out of the kit, he offered comfort to his boyfriend.
“Only a few more months before I’m outta there, then we won’t have to worry about this shit any more.” Billy would turn 18 in June, just under three months from now, but when he showed up at Steve’s door bloodied and bruised every other day, that long stretch of time offered no comfort.
It wouldn’t be as easy as Billy seemed to think it was to leave. He wouldn’t have any money, the Camaro wasn’t in his name, so he wouldn’t have any way to get around, and he didn’t even know where he would stay yet. That was all hypothetical for if he’d even be able to leave too.
With an abusive father constantly looming over his shoulder and keeping tabs on him, he’d know he was going to leave and try to stop it at all costs. It was only a matter of time before he started trying to manipulate Billy into staying.
It clearly didn’t have the desired effect on Steve. Billy’d even offered his assurances with a smile, but his boyfriends face stayed grim as he wiped at the cut with an alcohol pad so he could start to try to stitch it shut.
They stayed silent after that, while Steve tried to steady his shaking hands for long enough to get the needle in and out of Billy’s skin without hurting him too bad. The only break in the silence was the occasional gasp from Billy when Steve made another hole in his skin, or the noise drifting up from when the kids started yelling downstairs.
After a few more times in and out he was able to tie it off, the sutures were sort of crude, but were doing their job, and he made Billy move his arm all around to make sure they wouldn’t tear right through his skin. Once he was appeased, he made him put a new shirt on, the other one stained with his blood would have to be washed.
Billy stood up and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “I’m gonna be okay baby.”
Steve reached his arms around the back of Billy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I know but-“
Cutting him off with a quick kiss, Billy interjected. “It doesn’t matter about him as long as I have you.” Another peck to his lips. “Love you.”
It hardly did anything to cheer Steve up or comfort him, but there wasn’t anything that could when every night, he sent his boyfriend back into the arms of a monster. He sighed and ran his fingers through the long hair at the back of Billy’s neck. “I love you too.”
Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Billy pulled away to grab his jacket off of the counter. Shrugging the layers back onto his shoulders, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket again. “I should go. The nerd herd’s gonna wonder where we went.”
“I want you to stay.” Steve kissed him one more time. “Not gonna let you go back to him yet.”
Billy looked like he wanted to protest, but Steve must’ve been looking as sad as he felt, because Billy sighed and gave in. “Fine. But your kids aren’t going to be too happy about that.”
“They’ll be fine.” Billy always seemed to underestimate just how much the kids liked him.
It was true that they hadn’t been his biggest fans at first, but when they first started doing this, Steve made him swear he’d apologize to them, and he did.
They were smart kids, they understood how the situation had looked when he got pissed, all of them hiding from him in a strangers house, and they understood the implications too of him begging Max to leave with him and his arm being broken literally the next day when she hadn’t.
It wasn’t immediate forgiveness, they were pretty wary around him until they felt he’d done enough to prove that he meant it when he apologized, but they’d all more or less accepted it by now.
Because he hadn’t stopped after just saying sorry. The words themselves never meant much to him at all, what with the situation he grew up in, so he tried to show them he was sorry.
Which was how he had become the secondary chauffeur after Steve, taking more than just Max home after trips to the movies or the arcade, and consequently how he had started helping them sneak around.
More than a few times he’d helped them smuggle Eleven out of her dad's cabin, because he understood feeling trapped, before he had his own car Neil had been able to keep him under 24/7 surveillance. He always covered for Lucas too, driving him home first before anyone else, and when Neil wanted to know who Max had been with, he’d lie and say it was just Dustin or El. After what happened it felt like the least he could do, but Steve was right, by now, they were pretty much over it.
Either way, he didn’t exactly want to have to explain away why he and Steve had disappeared upstairs for the last hour, hour and half. They might forgive him for his stupid outburst, but he couldn’t be sure where they drew the line.
Steve smiled at him and wrapped his fingers around Billy’s wrist, pulling him out of the bathroom and back through the hallway to the stairs. “Just follow my lead.”
Any semblance of a plan was lost when they made it back to the kitchen, Billy leaning in the doorway while Steve announced his presence, and they saw Eleven washing blood off of her hands in the sink.
There were some things Billy knew he’d never understand about these kids, Steve had made him promise he wouldn’t ask questions even though that was what had got them into a fight in the first place, so, despite his confusion, he didn’t even try to ask.
Not even when Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimanded her. “Oh, you were not spying on me.”
She smiled coyly. “I was.”
Billy felt the blood drain out of his face, felt his heartbeat skyrocket as he and Steve exchanged a look of fear. Steve stuttered and started trying to explain. “Listen you guys-“
Dustin cut him off, always overly eager to complain. “She won’t tell us anything.”
Nodding, Mike agreed. “She says it’s an ‘invasion of your privacy’.” He used air quotes around the last part as if spying on people in their own homes wasn’t exactly that.
The fear on Steve's face shifted into anger as he pointed his finger in Mike's face. “That’s because it is. I told you little shits a thousand times: no spying.”
Lucas interjected, agreeing with his friends. “What’s it matter if she won’t tell us anyways?”
Max fixed him with a deadly look and scoffed. “It matters because she didn’t want to and you made her. Why should she tell you what she saw?” Typically, Max would be on Lucas’ side, but they must’ve been fighting again.
Billy, watching the scene unfold while leaning on the door frame, clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and announced. “Seems like I walked into something.” He turned to walk away and called over his shoulder. “Catch ya ‘round, Harrington.”
Before he could get away, Steve grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tugged, stopping him dead in his tracks. “No way. You’re not leaving me to deal with this by myself.”
“Your children aren’t my responsibility.” He reminded him, but he had no actual intentions of actually leaving and they both knew that.
The kids hadn’t understood at first why Steve got along with Billy after he’d been the one to be beat up, so, to put it in a way that made sense to the brats, they pretended to argue so it seemed like they were only begrudgingly hanging out, and so far, they hadn’t seen through it.
Steve had a retort ready, but Dustin beat him to it. The kids were constantly rubbing it in Billy’s face that they’d turned him into a babysitter too. “Yeah, we kind of are.”
Lucas, obviously only trying to get some sort of points towards Max’s forgiveness, agreed. “Especially since one of us is your totally awesome sister.” Max just rolled her eyes at his attempt.
Realizing he was still holding onto Billy’s jacket, Steve pulled him back into the room and let go. “You’re staying.” He turned to Will and asked him like nothing had happened, “So what are we playing?”
Unsurprisingly, the kids had developed tiny attention spans. They'd gotten quite the taste for crazy adventures, so unlike normal teenagers, activities like watching movies and playing truth or dare all night wouldn’t really do it for them.
Since Steve had left, they’d apparently played through two different games and had been about to start a third before they decided to spy.
Mike tells them, “We’ve narrowed it down to Uno and Monopoly.”
“Mike, Will, and Max vote Monopoly. Me, Lucas, and El vote Uno.” Dustin further explained, “We need a tie breaker.”
“I’m not any good at Monopoly. Too much counting.” Steve nudged Billy with his shoulder. “What do you think?”
“Last time I played Monopoly I broke someone's nose, and I’m colorblind. Don’t think my vote counts.” Neither of those facts are particularly untrue, but the only reason Billy brings them up is because he’s still trying to deny that he’s their babysitter.
Staying for Steve, whatever, that was fine, but playing board games with the little shits, that would be giving in, admitting that he wasn’t above hanging out with middle schoolers on a Friday night.
But he doesn’t get out of it, because with the excitement of all of the kids combined, Will pipes up. “Don’t worry, I am too! My mom put shapes on all the cards so I can tell the difference.”
He hurries and fishes out the playing deck, bringing it straight to Billy to look through. “See! Reds are squares, greens are circles, yellows are stars, and blues are triangles!”
Steve smirks at Billy, at the defeated look on his face. “Looks like you’re not getting out of this one, Hargrove.”
Tumblr decided this was too long, go ahead and finish reading on ao3! Over there I’m ej_writer !
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Stop the world and melt with you. (E, 1k words)
@harringroveweekoflove day 7: DOM/SUB. Featuring after-care and cuddles, friends with benifits, emotional longing, Steve overthinking with his big, fluffy head.
***
The day had started out the same. Steve went into work, opened his locker to change into his stilly sailor uniform, then by the ringing of the bell he opened his locker again to change back. The metal made such a loud noise. He hated it.
His car was one of the only left in the lot. Twilight over Hawkins and the closing of the one thing to pass the time in such a small town had people tucked away in their warm beds at home.
Yet, some people the fading of the light brings out. The night time is when the wild things roam, after all.
So Billy Hargrove’s gunmetal blue Camaro idled next to Steve’s car in the lot. Steve walked up to the window of the car. Rolled down all the way to show how Billy wears his sunglasses at night to protect against the harsh lamps of the parking lot.
And Billy’s smile is wicked through the window of his car. And Steve’s hands that were balled into fists inside his windbreaker’s pockets unclench to open the handle of that muscle car.
And Billy’s driving them towards quarry at the edge of town so fast his tires leave smoke on the streets. He’s got his hand on Steve’s thigh right up until he’s got to turn her off.
And Billy’s between his legs.
Got him belly up on the long leather stretch of the Camaro’s back seat. Bracing himself as he hovers above him, using those arms to hold onto the seat as he moves. Billy’s muscular arms on either part of the skinniest part of Steve’s waist.
His palms are thick, and his fingers are wide, as he holds the fabric of the seats unyieldingly tight as he fucks down into Steve. As his cock pulls him apart and works inside in ways Steve’s never felt. The relentless brushing of his curved cock head against his prostate makes Steve’s toes curl. Makes his head fall backwards so it hits the car door.
Makes him a slave, completly at the mercy of the thrusting and grunting and growling above him.
He points his toes and throws his hair back, he whimpers through each breath as it’s knocked up and out of him with the deepth of Billy’s thrusts.
Closes his eyes and thinks about how he must look like Nancy Wheeler, when she was a dripping wet soppy mess, and she let him work her until her toes pointed. Until her eyes screwed shut with a silent gasping breath. He thinks about how she came undone to the Rains Down in Africa, and thinks mostly how that song isn’t playing.
How Billy Hargrove had a well worn mixtape he used for fucking in the backseat of his car.
Over the slapping of skin and the noises of all the damn lube loosening up his ass, over the muttering words Billy thinks he’s saying too low for Steve to pick up. Over his own damn pathetic crying. He can hear Deff Leopard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me, and it makes him lose his mind.
Makes him close his eyes finally in that gasping breath and jerk his hips upwards to meet Billy’s thrusts as he cums between them. His untouched dick long and red, bouncing between them uselessly. Making his shaft glossy with his cum. He can’t see it. Can only feel it. Feel with another pathetic gasp as he lets himself lay boneless under Billy.
He keeps his thrusts up only for another second, his grip tightening, his biceps flexing madingly taught as he fucks into Steve’s orgasm tight hole. Just for another second, then he’s burrying himself to the base of his cock. Until his short, strawberry blond curls get lost in the dark black hair of Steve’s crotch.
Until he can’t look down and see them any more. Until he can only feel their connection.
Billy pumps up into Steve’s body to be sure he’s as deep as he can go. Then cums with a shuddering gasp. His brilliant blue eyes closing in concentration, one side of his lips coming up in a snarl, then that all melts away to a mellow blink. His fat lower lip hangs loose below his open mouth.
Steve’s got his eyes open. He can’t miss the way Billy seems blissed out above him. His cock lazily pumping strings of cum so deep it feels like it’s in Steve’s stomach.
He follows his eyes to watch as Billy’s face again shifts into a smile. Not a smirk, or a growl, but a real smile. One that folds his cheeks and makes his mountain lion sharp face sparkle just like the night sky’s outside the foggy windows around them. Billy finally lets his grip go. Let’s himself fall forward onto Steve’s heaving chest.
It would be different, if Steve wasn’t Steve. If he couldn’t hold the weight of Billy Hargrove. But is he, and he can. He wraps one arm around Billy’s shoulders, so broad and wide, shimmering golden tan as he sweats, and Steve’s reach can go from shoulder to shoulder. Can reach on one side and let his long fingers play with the dark birth mark on the other. Trailing his gentle fingertips over Billy’s skin like giving praise.
Steve’s other hand lifts hesitantly to the back of Billy’s head. He’s got his face down in Steve’s neck. His breath leaving warm puffs with each exhale against his collar bones. If it wasn’t for how quick they were, he might be asleep. Steve’s not worried if Billy falls asleep, might actually like it.
His hand cradling Billy’s head rests light against his curls. At first, they crunch in his touch. The hairspray locking the style in feels so hard under his fingers. But Steve knows if he just pushed a little deeper, if he let his fingers disappear into those sealed tight locks, he gets to feel how soft Billy’s hair really is.
How gentle he can be in these blissful after hours. After he’s got his orgasm, after the lion’s fat on his cream, and Billy lays boneless in Steve’s lap for a little bit.
Let’s him run his fingers though those meticulously crafted curls until they lay untangled and longer over the wide space of Billy’s back.
These are the best moments. The after glow. And Steve doesn’t really know what to call it. Because they’ve never given a name to what they are doing. But he knows this Billy is his favorite. And this Billy, he feels he’s in love with.
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