#harringrove flip reverse it

[harringrove-flip-reverse-it]

Welcome to Harringrove Flip Reverse It 2024!

Are you the sort of person who likes to be nifty with your fan creations? Do you enjoy subverting prompts? Does the thought of a challenge fill you with glee?

This is the event for you!

Harringrove Flip Reverse It is an event taking place the first week of July (Monday 1st - Sunday 7th). It’s very easy (and fun) to play!

Every day during that week, you’ll be given five prompts: fluff, angst, nsfw, sfw and trope subversion. Sounds simple? Well, it is… but there’s a catch!

For each prompt you decide to fill, you’ll be expected to Flip Reverse It! In other words, you must make your fluff prompts angsty, and your angst prompts fluffy. Your nsfw prompts should be safe for work, and as for your sfw prompts… enough said ;)

The trope subversion prompts will give you a very common, possibly even overused prompt… and it’s your job to subvert it, in any way you want. Interpret the prompt any way you like, except the traditional one.

You can do as many or as few prompts as you like, no sign-up required! Make sure you tag @harringrove-flip-reverse-it in your prompt fill so we can reblog it here too.

Want to find some cool people to talk about your ideas? Come and join us in the Heebie Jeebies discord server to find a ready-made community of likeminded lovely people, now featuring a dedicated channel just for discussion of Harringrove Flip Reverse It!

For more details on the prompt categories, read on…

Fluff:  Take the traditional tooth-rotting fluff… and make it angsty! We’re talking days at the beach that end in disaster, hot chocolate with marshmallows that turn out to be poisoned, sweet little moments that break our goddamn hearts.

Angst:  It looks like it should hurt, but it doesn’t! These prompts may seem dark and whumpy, but they should fill the heart with joy and delight, no angst allowed!

NSFW: These prompts may look filthy, but in fact they could be read by the most innocent of angels with nary a blush!

SFW:  By contrast… somehow these gentle ideas have become sullied by porn, and there’s no turning back!

Trope Subversion:  These tropes may be overused, but it’s your job to interpret them in a non-traditional way. Maybe they share a bed, but not with each other! Maybe their first kiss was with someone else! It can be anything EXCEPT the usual way of interpreting the prompt.

Interested in taking part? Reblog this post, check out all the nitty gritty details and then get working on some prompts!

#flip reverse it 2024 #harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove #harringrove event #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #harringrove fic

[weird-an]

Billy's stomach flips when he sees Harrington at practice. Winking at him, rolling his eyes at Billy's trash talk and flicking shampoo at him under the showers afterwards.

It has been like this for a while. Billy thinks he's sick, maybe. Because, what else can it be? The books he stole from Susan and is hiding under his pillows are telling him these are symptoms. Of love.

That can't be it. Billy knows love. Love means getting taught lessons after lesson about respect. Love means getting left behind with anger and coldness after warm snuggles. Love means getting dragged by his hair, because he forgot to mow the lawn after school today.

Billy doesn't want this to be love. He can't love Harrington. His scalp hurts and he wants the fluttering inside him to stop. He doesn't want to hurt Harrington, not again. He still can see his blood on his hands, no matter how often he tries to wash it off.

Today on the court, he just wanted to grab Harrington. To hold him, to hug him, to... just be close. But he can't. He doesn't want to love him. Also, Harrington hates him, even though he now sometimes smiles at him, when Billy looks at him.

His teammates ignore him, avoid him, because he knows he's reeking of Neil's anger. It is still oozing out of him. He's staring at the lockers. He doesn't move.

Waits for the anger and fear to pass. To go away. Or to take over. To finally burn through the warm feeling in his stomach that blooms up every time he sees Harrington. To be the fever that cures him.

"Are you okay, Billy?" Harrington's voice is careful.

Billy doesn't dare to look up. There are butterflies in his stomach and they're trying to get out. If he looks up and sees Harrington, he might do something stupid. Like crying.

"Yeah," he hears himself say. Hoarse and so close to cracking.

Harrington down sits on the bench next to him.

Billy flinches when Harrington puts his arms around him. It doesn't hurt. Billy bites back a sob.

"It's okay," Harrington says. Which is stupid, because Billy loves him, but love only means pain and torn out curls.

Harrington drags him closer. Maybe it's the sickness inside him, but Billy buries his head in the nape of his neck.

Harrington strokes his hair. Careful and tender. There's no pain. Billy has a butterfly on his tongue.

"Steve," he rasps. He doesn't even know what he wants to say. He just knows that he's filled with that warmth, slowly drowning out the anger.

"It's okay, Billy," Harrington's lips brushes against his temple. It feels like a cure for Billy's aches.

Whatever this is, it isn't love. Because love doesn't feel so soothing.

@harringrove-flip-reverse-it : So... fluff turns angst -> cuddles & snuggles. Close enough, I hope.

#i... made myself sad writing this #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #harringrove flip reverse it

[ihni]

(On AO3)

Billy was already waiting by the mailbox when the postman came. It was the third day in a row he was standing there, and today the mailman just raised his eyebrows as he handed Billy a small stack of envelopes. Billy didn’t do more than grunt in thanks before he started rifling through the letters. There were bills addressed to his dad, one letter that looked like an offer to start a magazine subscription for Susan – and nothing for Billy. As usual.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath and went inside to prepare for work. He was alone in the house – Neil and Susan had left for work already and since it was summer, Max was already out, hanging with her friends. Billy worked the late shift at the pool this week, which was why he had time to wait by the mailbox. And after that, by the phone.

At five to eleven, the phone rang, just like he knew it would.

“Hey,” Steve said, voice sounding tinny and far away. Which was fair, since he was all the way over in Europe. “Nothing yet?”

“Nope,” Billy confirmed and chewed on his lip. “Maybe … maybe it got lost on the way?” A groan came down the line. If Billy closed his eyes he could imagine the way Steve would be pulling at his hair right about now. “Maybe it’s just late. Who knows how long it takes to deliver mail from Italy to Indiana, anyway?”

“I’ve been here for four weeks,” Steve said. “And I sent it the first week. Grandma says that it usually takes a week, two tops. It should have gotten there by now.”

Billy bit his lip and winced. It should.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, voice more subdued. “I never should have sent it. I wasn’t thinking.”

Billy sighed. They’d had this discussion before, the first of which was when Steve let him know that he’d sent a raunchy letter with accompanying polaroid pictures in the mail. Billy had almost had a heart attack when he heard. He had been quick to exchange all his shifts at the pool to the late ones, even though there was more to do then than in the mornings. He did it just so he could ensure he was the one who picked up the mail, so he would be able to take the letter before anyone else saw it. Because he knew that if his dad found a letter that had been sent from overseas and which was addressed to Billy, he wouldn’t hesitate to open it first to check what it was. And if he found pictures of Billy’s boyfriend’s dick … well. Billy would be dead.

“I know,” he said. He knew that Steve was sorry, and worried. He’d taken to calling every day around this time on weekdays, when he knew that Billy would be home alone – and that his dad wouldn’t be there. “Maybe it’ll show up tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve murmured. “We’re leaving for home on Monday. At this pace, I’ll be home before the letter!”

“That’s better anyway,” Billy decided. “I prefer the real thing to a picture any day.”

Despite his attempt at flirting, he was still worried. For every day that passed without the letter showing up, Billy got more and more tense. He wouldn’t be able to be the first one to the mailbox every day, and if his dad got his hands on it …

He shook the unease off and said his goodbye to his boyfriend, who promised to call again the next day. After that he went through the pile of mail one more time – just in case he’d missed the airmail letter, somehow – before putting it in a neat pile on the kitchen table, and gathering his things before leaving for work.

It was a warm and sunny day, which meant there were a lot of people at the pool. A lot of loud and obnoxious people, ranging from the kids who ran rampant along the pool’s edge to their parents, who seemed to be there only to ogle the lifeguards. Billy had a headache by the time he finally got to lock up and go home, which didn’t even lessen when he turned the volume of his car stereo down low while driving.

When he got back to the house, he parked on the driveway and sighed as he got out of the Camaro, mentally preparing himself for a mediocre dinner in the Hargrove household. His head shot up when he heard someone call his name.

“Billy?”

It was Mr. Peterson, their elderly neighbor. He was waving to Billy from behind his fence, a friendly smile on his wrinkly face.

Billy internally groaned. Mr. Peterson was approximately a hundred years old (slight exaggeration, but he was old-old) and could talk forever if one didn’t manage to weasel out of it fast. Neil would be pissed if Billy was late for dinner – but then again, he would be pissed if Billy wasn’t polite to their neighbors, too. So, plastering a smile onto his face, Billy walked up to the fence.

“Hi, Mr. Peterson. How are you today?”

“Oh good, Billy, good. The joints are creaking as usual, but besides that I’m just fine, thank you,” Mr. Peterson said, and Billy prepared himself for what was bound to be a fifteen-minute monologue about the man’s bad hip. Which is why it was so surprising that he cut straight to the chase. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?” Billy looked back towards his house, hesitating. Mr. Peterson seemed to sense it, because he was quick to assure, “It’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

Neil always preached how important it was to have good relationships with one’s neighbors, so he wouldn’t be able to fault Billy for helping an old man out. “Yeah, of course,” Billy therefore said and walked around the fence and into the man’s yard. “What can I do for you?”

“Follow me, please.”

Mr. Peterson led Billy to the house, and in through the front door. Billy had never been inside the old man’s house before, and stopped on the welcome mat in the hall and looked around. It seemed to be a typical old-person home. Smelled musty, and a little bit like smoke, with yellowed wallpaper and a lot of framed photographs on the walls.

Mr. Peterson went to a wooden dresser that was pushed up against one of the walls, and opened the top drawer to pull out –

Shit.

– an airmail letter. An opened airmail letter.

“I got this in the mail a couple of days ago,” Mr. Peterson said, holding the envelope up so Billy could see it better. It had Steve’s chickenscratch handwriting on it, and was addressed to ‘Billy Hargrove’.

Shit shit shit.

Not noticing – or maybe not caring about – Billy’s rising panic, Mr. Peterson continued, “The mailman must have gotten our mail mixed up, or read the number wrong. I’m sorry to say that I didn’t read the address properly before opening it – my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, you see, and I have friends in Europe so I thought it was from one of them.” Billy only barely heard him through the sound of rushing in his ears. “And, well. I didn’t notice until I’ve already opened it that it … that it was probably not meant for me.”

He looked up and looked into Billy’s eyes for the first time since he’d picked up the letter, raising one white bushy eyebrow. Billy was frozen in fear. He knew what was in that letter – Steve had told him – and it was incriminating, to say the least. If Mr. Peterson had told anyone, or shown anyone – god, if he told Billy’s dad, he’d –

“Breathe, son,” Mr. Peterson said, not unkindly, and put a wrinkly hand on Billy’s shoulder, pretending like he didn’t notice when Billy flinched. Which was silly. Billy could take him; Mr. Peterson was a head shorter than Billy, and ancient.

But he also knew.

“I, I … I don’t know what …” Billy didn’t know how to continue that sentence, so it was lucky that Mr. Peterson took that opportunity to start talking again.

“Did you know that I fought in the First World War?” The non sequitur had Billy’s mind reeling. He did know that – Neil had told the family as soon as he found out, proud to be living in a neighborhood of war veterans – but he couldn’t form words at the moment. Mr. Peterson reached out to one of the picture frames on the wall and pointed at it. It was a grainy black and white picture of five men, posing in front of a restaurant. “This was taken fifteen years after the war ended. We – the ones out of my friends who survived – got together again, to … catch up, and all that.”

Billy still didn’t know what this had to do with anything. He eyed the letter in the old man’s hand, and wondered if he would be able to snatch it and make a run for it. But no. No, then Neil would definitely find out.

“This is Joe,” Mr. Peterson said and tapped his finger against the glass, showing a grinning man wearing a hat. “Joseph. He was my friend.” At this, he gave Billy a significant look. “My special friend.”

Billy stopped breathing, and blinked while the word filtered into his brain. Mr. Peterson couldn’t be insinuating what Billy thought he was insinuating, right?

The old man took Billy’s hand in his and, smiling, pressed the airmail letter with Steve’s handwriting on it into Billy’s palm. Billy’s fingers closed on it out of instinct. It was thicker than an ordinary letter, and he could feel the polaroids through the thin paper of the envelope.

Mr. Peterson didn’t let go of his hand, though. He patted their joined hands with his other hand and made sure to look Billy in the eye as he said, “Love is love, son. I know that better than most. And no matter where you find it, you should consider yourself lucky to have it.”

Billy’s vision was getting blurry, and he let out a shuddering breath. “Mr. Peterson …”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Mr. Peterson said. His voice was gentle, as if he was trying not to spook a skittish animal.

Billy could do nothing but nod. He couldn’t feel his face, but he was pretty sure that he was either stark white or tomato red. Mr. Peterson gently guided him to the door and patted him on the arm as he opened the door.

“Thank you for your help, young man,” he said. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”

Billy took a couple of steps out on the porch, but then stopped and turned around. He could hardly believe what had just happened. When he looked at the old man in the doorway, he looked at him with new eyes, and a new understanding. This man, their elderly neighbor – the war veteran that Neil actually respected – he was like Billy?

“I’m …” Billy started, but again couldn’t find words. “Thank you.”

Mr. Peterson just smiled, and nodded to the letter in Billy’s hand. “That boy? You’re lucky to have him. He seems like a keeper.” Billy nodded, still in shock. And that’s when Mr. Peterson leaned forward and added, in a lower voice and with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Big dick too. Joe’s was smaller, but boy did he know how to use it.”

@harringrove-flip-reverse-it

#harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #ihni writes #mr. peterson next door

[chrisbitchtree]

Can't Touch This

For Harringrove Flip It Reverse It - Day 4

Prompt - Angst turned into fluff - "Don't touch me!"

***

If you’d first asked Steve when he met Billy what he thought the blonde would pursue as a career, kindergarten teacher would have been way at the bottom of the list, under mechanic and carpenter, below bartender or surf shop owner, even down below stripper.

But to Steve’s shock, it’s what Billy had chosen, finding that he had a passion for it, and he was thriving. He came home every day covered in stickers and finger paints, glitter and confetti in his hair, his curls up in a bun and one of his signature pastel button-ups on.

He’d regale Steve with stories about what a beautiful tree Lily drew or how Eddie had finally corrected his habit of drawing half the letters in the alphabet backwards on his worksheets. He glowed with pride over every single one of his student’s accomplishments, and it was the highlight of Steve’s day every single day to hear about it.

Billy always got home earlier than Steve, so he would make dinner. Steve would sit at their little wooden table for two, watching Billy with a dreaming look in his eyes while Billy would whip up spaghetti, sauce bubbling away at his side while he boiled noodles, or flip baked chicken breast and fluff up Rice-aroni, they favourite side, talking a mile a minute about the fact that Timmy was no longer scared of the toilet or that Rachel hadn’t tried to eat paste in three days.

It helped Steve unwind after a long day as a high school math teacher and all the drama that went along with educating dramatic, hormonal teenagers who would flip on a dime, going from polite model student one minute, to raging asshole the next. It took a lot out of Steve, but he got a lot out of it in return. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t envy the cozy little world Billy had created for his own students.

***

When Steve arrived home late one sunny April afternoon, he could tell something was wrong the second he saw Billy. His face was pulled into a tight grimace, his shirt was untucked, and he was trying with all of his might to scratch the middle of his back. From the way he was hopping around, his arm fully extended, it didn’t seem like it was going to well for him.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, trying not to laugh at the image in front of him, difficult as it was. He really wished he had a camera right now.

Billy kept hopping around, seemingly unable to find relief. “Don’t know. I’m so itchy, and it won’t stop. It’s been like this all day.”

Let me have a look, Steve said.

Billy stopped moving for a minute and Steve lifted the hem of his shirt. Billy’s back was covered in small, red spots.

“Ummmm, Billy? Have you ever had chicken pox before?” Steve asked, lowering the shirt and walking down the hall to the bathroom.

“No?” Billy said, although it came out more like a question. “I don’t think so? Why? Do I have it? Don’t touch me!”

“Well, I guess it was bound to happen at some point, working with little kids. I’m honestly surprised that you lasted this long. And it’s fine. I’ll put on gloves.” He returned to the kitchen a minute later, calamine lotion in one hand and a pair of rubber gloves in the other. “Take off your shirt and lay down on the couch. I’ll put some on your back and it’ll help with the itch.”

Billy did as he was told, laying on his front on the plush, floral couch that was the centrepiece of their living room. Steve straddled his hips, flipping the top on the bottle. He poured some into his palm before closing the bottle and dropping it onto the carpet. With the pointer finger of his other hand, he painted the dots, trying to make sure he caught every one.

He gave the lotion a minute to dry before having Billy stand and take off his pants, so Steve could check for spots below his belt. Thankfully, except for a couple on his thighs, he seemed safe so far.

“Stupid kids,” Billy grumbled. “Stupid parents letting their kids go to school sick. Now I’m going to have to take time off. We were supposed to vote on who won the art contest tomorrow. They even promised they wouldn’t just all vote for themselves. Now stupid Sandra is going to get to do it.”

Steve watched him with amusement as he ranted, the lotion drying an adorable pink colour that stood out in stark contrast from Billy’s golden tan. He’d come a long way from when they were foulmouthed teenagers, when every second word was fuck or shit or goddammit. Now it was all stupid and silly and gosh. It was cute that he was getting so worked up over this.

“It’s ok, baby,” Steve chuckled. “I know this means a lot to you, but there will be other art contests. It’s important that you stay home and get better, so you don’t make any of the kids sick.”

Billy sighed. “I know, it just sucks.” He raised his arm to scratch his back and Steve swatted it away.

“No scratching, that’s how it spreads.”

Billy stuck out his lower lip, pouting. “But it’s itchy! I can’t take it!”

As Steve’s mother had done for him when he’d had chicken pox years ago, Steve grabbed oven mitts for Billy to slip on his hands. “Here you go, this’ll help keep you from scratching. Sit down, put a movie on, and try not to think about the itch. I’ll order a pizza and then come sit with you. Ok?”

Billy nodded in agreement, making his way to the couch.

Steve watched him fondly, forever grateful for this sweet, kind, silly, wonderful man.

#harringrove #harringrove flip reverse it #flip reverse it 2023 #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove fic #chrisbitchtree writes

[kiraixi]

Thursday 30th March ✩  “Roleplaying” (Flip-Reverse) @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

“Billy?”

No reply.

He could’ve sworn he heard giggling.

Probably just next door.

Steve walks over to the kitchen retrieving his coffee. When he arrived home Billy was fast asleep, a usual habit right after class. Steve’s been busying himself with light cleaning and leftover classwork.

He grumbles at cigarette butts littering the coffee table, it’s a habit his boyfriend’s been trying to kick for a while but sometimes he relapses. 

He brushes them into the trash and moves towards the fireplace, righting any lopsided decor. There are photo’s dating all the way back to 10th grade when they first met, picking one up he wipes it fondly.

It’s been six years of love, conflict and forgiveness.

 Steve bites his lip, he’s been mulling over the decision of getting down on one knee, even has the ring picked! It’s been broached as abstract over the dinner table but when Steve gets into the details he tends to clam up. It's been real hard navigating the landmine of Billy Hargrove’s feelings. 

His boyfriend is a free spirit, a wild bird and he’d never want to make Billy feel as though he’s tie-ing down him down.

There’s movement in the bedroom again, now Billy’s laughter is loud and clear. Steve can hear words being said so he puts his ear against the door trying to decipher. 

​​'Oh no, Billy what are you doing?? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

A pause, 

'Steve not you too! can you please pick her up at least?"

The blonde normally talks to himself when playing games, it’s a cute quirk he’s always had. Steve especially loves to hear his stream of thoughts when they play horror games together, never ceases to crack him up.

He turns the handle walking in. Billy is faced away playing on that crappy  school provided Chromebook. Strange.. he normally uses the PC in the living room for personal things 

"Babe?"

His boyfriend spins in the chair, slamming the laptop shut. The fan working overtime, an awkward ambience.

"oh, hey Steve."

"What are you playing?"

He spins around a few times “Nothing…”

Steve walks up to him, stilling Billy's chair. "Can I see?" He uses those irresistible puppy eyes. "Please?"

"Fine... don’t laugh"

He opens the laptop showcasing a household on a new game he’s been obsessing over, Steve still can’t really understand the allure. It also has a funky name, Simps? Sism?

Billy shyly gives a tour of a family consisting of Steve and him, happily married with three kids. Lillian, Sammy and Cecilia.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Do I not get a say on our children's names?”

Billy looks away, blushing. "I thought you wouldn't be interested.."

Steve laughs, kissing his cheek, “Is this us in the future?"

His face tints red. "Maybe"

Steve smiles into the affection. He knows what he's got planned for their next date.

I don’t know if sims counts as a role playing game but to it does to me >:) , I’m gonna queue this one since it’s my birthday!! and I’m gonna be out, love coming back home to the plethora of Billy content <3

Hope you guys enjoy this short sweet one!

#billy hargrove #harringrove flip reverse it #flip reverse it 2023 #harringrove week #harrigrove

[demobats]

Day 3 of Harringrove Flip Reverse It 2023! 

Prompt: Caught in the act

Read on AO3 - 1083 words

The door swings open. In a split second, Billy remembers they forgot to lock the door. In a split second, Steve’s on his feet and standing half in front of him, shielding him from the intruder. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” Steve shrieks, and for a too long moment all Billy can really make sense of is the way his hair sticks out in all directions and his pretty brown eyes open wide, wide, wide. 

Then he zeros in on Max. 

She’s just standing there by the doorway seeming vaguely stunned, clutching the doorknob like her life depended on it. 

Billy thought they were home alone. Neil and Susan are away for the weekend and Max was supposed to have a sleepover tonight. Billy thought he could get away with having a sleepover of his own. In his own bedroom for once.

But life has never been kind to him. 

Max keeps standing there, looking at them both. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, deadpan. 

And Steve’s raising both palms in a placating motion, going all, “It’s not what it looks like.” 

Max huffs out, something between a deranged giggle and a whine. “Oh, no. I think this is exactly what it looks like, Steve. Let’s not play dumb.” 

“It’s… not .”

“Is too.” 

“It’s not .” 

“Is—Jesus, Billy .” 

Max looks past Steve and to Billy, searching for answers.

All Billy can do is groan and hide his face in palms. “Go away, Maxine.” 

“No. What do you think you’re doing?” 

“None of your business!” 

“It’s my business when you take my stuff, asshole!” 

Billy looks up at that. Max seems to have recovered from her initial shock and is now further inside the room, having pushed past a red cheeked Steve. 

Her nail polish bag is spread on top of Billy’s sheets, all those pretty colors inside their bottles laid out for Steve and Billy to choose from. 

Steve let it slip he had never painted his nails before. 

Billy had to do something about it. He just had to. 

It’s not like he has his own polish collection.

Billy glares at Max on principle. Even if he kind of did take her stuff without asking. 

“What are you even doing here?” he asks. “Weren’t you sleeping over at El’s?” 

“I am,” Max says. “I forgot the movies I rented. Hop drove me to pick them up. Now, will you please tell me what you think you’re doing?” 

Billy’s mind blanks on him. 

He’s—never living this down. Ever. Not fucking ever. 

He should get in his car and drive down to Mexico while he still has some dignity left. 

“It was my idea,” Steve blurts out of nowhere, and they both turn to face him, watch as he sputters and spatters, looking like he very much would like the earth to swallow him whole. 

It was absolutely not his idea. 

Billy gets the feeling Max knows it somehow. 

“Was it,” Max says, tone flat. 

Steve bobs his head up and down. His cheeks are so, so red. He didn’t blush that much the first time they kissed. “Um, yeah. Yeah, I wanted—I don't know. I thought it’d be fun. Sorry.” 

Max squints at him, considering. Then at Billy. If looks could kill…

But she doesn’t really complain anymore. All she does is roll her eyes in that annoying way of hers that makes Billy want to smack her upside the head. 

“Don’t break anything,” Max finally says. “And you’re buying me a new color. I want green.” 

“Fuck off, Maxine.” 

“Fine, I want green and purple.” 

“Max, I swear to god—” 

She flips him off. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Steve says, somewhat desperately. “We’ll get you new ones. Totally. As many as you want. It’s on me.” 

She squints. Again. But it’s good enough for her, it seems. 

“Great,” she says. 

“Great,” Steve echoes. 

She glances down at the nail polish one last time—at the mess that are Billy and Steve’s fingernails. Turns out, neither one of them is all that good at actually applying it. The paint is smeared all over their fingers. 

Billy’s wearing a light, soft blue. Steve chose a pink so annoyingly bright it almost hurts to look at, just to steal a startled laugh out of Billy. And truly, Billy didn’t even know Max owned pink nail polish. Probably a gift from Susan that had never seen the light of day before. 

Max sighs. “Bye, I guess.” 

And she goes to walk away. 

Billy speaks up, before she can get very far. “Max, don’t—”

And he stops. Doesn’t really know how to say what he wants to say. 

Max knows him, though. It’s a little scary, but she does. She’s a lot smarter than people give her credit for. “I won’t tell,” she says, soft. She means it. 

Billy nods jerkily. 

He can’t know for sure she knows Steve and him are dating, but sometimes he thinks she does. She’s caught them in compromising positions a couple times. She’s covered for him without him asking when he spends the night at Steve’s and doesn’t quite make it home on time. 

“Uh, have fun,” he says. “And fuckin’ knock next time.” 

She rolls her eyes again before walking away. 

The front door snaps shut and then Steve’s climbing half on his lap, burying his face on Billy’s neck. “She’s going to blackmail us,” he laments, voice grave, and rich, and sending vibrations all over Billy’s sternum. 

Billy sneaks a hand under Steve’s shirt, rubs circles on his back. “Nah,” he says. “I’ve got dirt on her too. Plus, I don’t know how to break it to ya but you already promised to buy her shit.” 

“See? I already fell for it.” 

Billy snorts, keeps rubbing circles on Steve’s back. 

He leans back on the bed until they’re both resting on the headboard and Billy’s heap of pillows, the chemical smell of nail polish enveloping both. The house is so quiet. Steve rests a hand on Billy’s stomach and the pretty pink against his milky skin makes Billy smile. 

“I take it nail polish isn’t your thing?” 

“Mm. I don’t know. You’re gonna have to convince me.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I could buy some for you, when I get Max’s.” 

Billy laughs, links his fingers with Steve’s, pink, and blue, and whole lot of love. He’ll never live it down if Max finds out Billy keeps his own nail polish. “I’d like that,” he says. It’s true.  

#harringrove flip reverse it #flip reverse it 2023 #harringrove #billy hargrove #my fic

[billyharringson]

My last contribution to @harringrove-flip-reverse-it week, and it's the College roommates prompt (SFW becomes NSFW)

Title: Rules for Survival

Rating: Explicit

Additional tags: mean dom steve harrington, Dom Steve Harrington, Sub Billy Hargrove, Alternate Universe - College/University, Steve Harrington's King Steve Persona, degradation kink, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Steve Harrington, Gay Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Dubious Consent, Billy/OC is only brief, Billy Hargrove is Bad at Feelings, Praise Kink, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Homophobic Language, Biting, Marking, Light BDSM, Dom/sub, Hair-pulling, Anal Sex, First Time, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Billy Hargrove, Barebacking

Summary: His first breath of free air had got caught in his throat however, because God may have allowed him to leave his old hell, but that was only so that he could be plunged into a new one. Sure, maybe he was being overdramatic, but the universe must have it out for him. Why else would he be roomed with possibly the prettiest, most infuriatingly sweet man ever? One who spoke about boobs and chicks and everything else enough to hammer home how out of bounds he was? One that he’d have to continue to pretend around.

Billy’s other survival mechanisms had kicked in almost instantly. Unfortunately, the survival mechanism for dealing with his crush on his stupidly handsome roommate was apparently to be a massive asshole. Every innocent comment, every kind remark or offer of friendship was rebuffed with a snappy or bitchy quip, ones that had him groaning internally each time they left his lips. Not that it seemed to deter Steve, if anything his eyes lit up whenever Billy threw an insult his way, which was odd because he wouldn’t have pegged Steve as a masochist.

AO3:

#billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove flip reverse it #mean dom steve

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE FLIP REVERSE IT DAY 6: Fake Dating Trope Subversion | Teen | 6.2k

DEVASTATED that this is late, but I'm happy with the final result, so it's better that I took my time instead of rushing it lol. Fun lil teacher Steve dynamic for the soul <3 Please enjoy!!

Read the Full Fic on AO3 Made for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Preview below!

Billy has always had his fair share of inappropriate crushes.

An older gentleman passing through from Los Angeles, random tourists at the beach with heavy accents and eyes that he’d have liked to pick apart. One client at the auto shop he used to work at whose AC relay he had to fix, and who returned time and time again to buy coolant. Crushes that he knew were never going to happen, and that he never cared enough about to try. There were hot guys all over San Diego, though few ever truly caught his eye.

Even fewer were a part of his daily routine.

“Max, get the hell up, or you’re walking!”

“Hold on, asshole!”

Billy didn’t mind driving her around, really, but it was only September, and he thought he would lose all of his hair before May. A month since Max hit high school was a month where the pseudo-dad charade was amped up to one-hundred, and he was in for one hell of a ride until she graduated.

It was coming up on one year since it had just been the two of them. Working two jobs since he was fifteen and hiding the money from his dad was the only reason Billy had been able to afford his own place at all, let alone be deemed fit to take over as Max’s legal guardian. He was twenty-four with a clean, safe apartment and steady income, and despite ceaseless arguing that they hadn’t quite gotten over yet, Max was on his side. She would have been no matter what.

“I’m leaving!”

“Jesus Christ, Billy—“

She was still brushing her teeth by the time he revved up the car, worked the engine a few times for dramatics, and grimaced when she spit into the grass. “You are so fucking gross, Max,” he said when she got into the passenger’s seat, idly spinning the wheel of her skateboard.

“Says the guy with cigarette breath.”

Billy laughed; he couldn’t argue there.

Between the radio and forgettable chatter, rides to school were far too loud for eight in the morning, but that was their thing. It was so different from how things used to be, they didn’t care. They liked it that way. Just an obnoxious guy and his more obnoxious step-sister having the time of their lives before something went wrong again, but that would be later’s problem.

Right now, Billy’s problem was pulling up to Sunny Oaks High School without giving himself away by sticking around so Mister Harrington, Max’s biology teacher, could wave hello. It happened once on the first Thursday—maybe he’d recognized Billy from the tour—and the flip in Billy’s stomach was familiar and far too strong. Mister Harrington was one handsome fellow indeed: tall and lean with the most gorgeous brown hair Billy had ever seen. It made his heart race and his face heat up, but that was something he just couldn’t fucking afford, so he got into the habit of letting his tires screech before the door even closed all the way.

It was a crush. One of those based purely on appearances, because he had yet to speak to Mister Harrington. He only heard from Max how much fun he was, that he explained things well and never gave pop quizzes. Apparently he was funny too, which definitely didn’t add to Billy’s narrow image of him in the slightest. Billy didn’t think about him telling some stupid taxonomy joke and laughing while the class watched with confused frowns, or chuckling to himself while grading papers when he came across a particularly wrong answer.

Billy would be over it by the next week.

Okay, by the next month.

Okay, after parent-teacher conferences, because then he would actually speak to Mister Harrington and learn of all the reasons why he was unattractive.

It should have been easy to wait outside the classroom by himself, reading a book to avoid the real parents with spouses and other kids and respectable jobs. It should have been easy to smile, introduce himself, shake a hand with the same charm he’d used since puberty started working in his favor, but Mister Harrington—damn him—made it so much harder. Up close, Billy noticed the moles dotting his cheek and chin and neck and arms—and, god, it was impossible.

Continue Reading on AO3

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #max mayfield #harringrove flip reverse it #flip reverse it 2023 #fanfic #ao3 #teacher steve harrington #.discowrites

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Harringrove Flip Reverse It - Stargazing

(Read it on AO3: here)

Stargazing | Bittersweet | Angst | Memories | Reminiscing

Words: 1,004

--=--

“I dunno, Harrington,” Billy huffed from beside him, where Steve sprawled on his back on the floor. He can practically still hear the rumbling of their car engines, long since switched off, can practically taste the hints of Billy’s exhaustion and intoxication, the things that had slurred his speech around the edges, in the tang of alcohol lingering on his own tongue. “Think this is still pretty stupid.”

“Awh, come on, Billy,” he’d pouted. “It’s fun.”

Billy’s non-committal hum, as always, had made him roll his eyes. It didn’t matter, then, that Steve secretly loved that sound; it always meant that Billy was trying to humour him. The guy was shit at it, sure, but he didn’t just tell Steve to shut up or straight up plant him on his ass when he was talking pure nonsense. At least, he didn’t all the time.

The quirk of his smile is as amused as it is bone-deep exhausted.

He had glanced at Billy then, all blonde curls fanning out on the gravel around his head, haloing in gold that shone with strands of silver in the glow of the starlight. The blue eyes that turned to meet his own were light and teasing in a way that made his breath catch, every time. Steve’d had to turn away at that, throat working as he looked back to the stars like they could’ve held the answer to this overwhelming warmth in his chest.

“Well, if this isn’t good enough for his highness, the new King of Hawkins High, then maybe–”

“You’d better finish that with a suggestion that we do something more exciting–” Steve had been able to practically hear the waggling of the guys eyebrows, almost still could, at that. Who’d have known what a dork Hargrove was? “--or else I’ll reconsider this truce we have going here.”

“You’d call this a truce?” Steve had laughed. 

Billy, it turned out, had been pretty damn funny when not being a total dick; and maybe he’d never been a total dick but it was hard for Steve to admit it, then, when this was still new and fragile, and it felt like the other Billy – who paraded around at school – could bring it all crashing down. Steve can now say that he knows what a dick he was to cling to the ability to blame this on Billy rather than himself – again. 

“Dude,” he’d continued, “I just had my hand down your ridiculously tight jeans yesterday. I think that’s more than a truce.”

“So what’s that make it then, Harrington? Allies with benefits?”

“Quit calling me that and maybe that’ll make us boyfriends,” he’d said without a thought, eyes still flickering over the stars above them.

Billy’s silence had been the thing that made him realise he’d said that out loud rather than in his head. Shit. Even thinking about it now makes his face flame in that patchy flush that Billy would always watch with more wonder than Steve thought it deserved. That had not been something meant to come out of his mouth – maybe that thought would have been fine as part of his private rants to himself in the emptiness of his own home, but never to the guy himself.

“Maybe it would,” Billy agreed before Steve had let his thoughts spiral too badly. “Not that I can see why you’d want it to be.”

Steve’s hand twitches in the nothing between them, fingers digging into the gravel he feels so acutely pressing into his back.

“You’re surprisingly sweet. And funny. And you actually care for Max even if you pretend you don’t. And have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. And so smart, I didn’t think it was possible to be so fit and still be a secret nerd but somehow you manage it.”

Face burning bright enough to rival all the stars above them, Steve had taken a trembling breath.

“Plus, I’ve been calling you Billy for months now. I’ve been there for a while.”

Silence. Nothing but the breeze in the trees around them, cooling the heat of Steve’s face. The water of the quarry laps silently at the edges of its shore; the moon observed them with lips gently sealed. Steve’s breath trembles again.

Finally, Billy had hummed. That time, it wasn’t to dismiss Steve’s pitiful attempts at defending stargazing – it was thoughtful, accepting.

“You gonna grab us another beer then, Steve?”

When Steve turns his head, all he is greeted with is silence and a stretching expanse of stone and trees. Gravel scratches at his face, imbedding itself into his skin. No matter how many times he comes here, staring up at the sky like it might have the answers to that aching maw within him, it never does. The stars and moon just sit there, staring down at him as impassively as ever. Their lips tightly sealed.

Now that he’s gone, stargazing brings no comfort or peace. Those flickering lights just serve as a reminder of the warmth that the darkness had swallowed whole, the flame extinguished by grief.

Stones crunch underfoot as he pushes himself to his feet, forces himself over to the door of his car. Just his car. Billy’s used to sit in the Hargrove-Mayfield’s driveway until Neil finally sold it, scrapped it, whatever he decided to do. It’s only his here, now. 

The beers are lukewarm in his hands, glass dull in the low light. When Steve sits back down in his spot, he places one down beside him, the base digging a divot into the loose ground to hold it upright. If Steve closes his eyes he can almost imagine familiar hands curled around the neck of it, an echo of a voice bitching about how the drinks always warmed in the late hours they sat around here. 

Steve uncaps his and throws back another swig, eyes resolutely staring to the nothing above him rather than the nothing by his side.

“Think you were right, Billy,” he murmurs to no one. “Stargazing’s pretty stupid.”

#harringrove #harringrove flip reverse it #flip reverse it 2023 #billy hargrove #fanfic #theres a not-so-small chance ive messed the tenses up here somewhere #thats what happens when you decide to overlap present and past tense tho ig

[greyghoulclub]

Harringrove Flip it Reverse it prompt 1 - fluff becomes angst: stargazing

Billy antis DNI

For @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

edit: <a href = "Look up to the stars - greyghoulclub - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]"> ao3 link here! </a>

When Steve was little, his mom taught him about all the constellations in the night sky. The big dipper, Orion and his belt, Ursa major and minor. They would go out in the middle of the night to sit on the lawn and use a telescope to see them. His mom would point in the general direction of a constellation and Steve would find it with the telescope.

“Mom! Look!” little Steve beckoned her over to the telescope, the biggest grin on his face. His mom would chuckle, push her long brown hair over her shoulder, and bend down to look through the telescope.

“You can see the big star in Orion’s belt right? Beetle- uh- juice?” Steve was talking a mile a minute because the star in question was brighter than usual. His mom chuckled from her position at the telescope, a beauty mark on the corner of her mouth moving into the crease of her cheek.

“Yes, I see Betelgeuse sweetheart, and there’s Rigel right next to it.” When Steve looked confused, she told him to look at the constellation again. “You see the blue star next to Betelgeuse? That’s Rigel.”

“It’s really blue,” Steve was fascinated by the little blue star, as they usually didn’t see it this bright. His mom only smiled and wrapped them in the blanket she’d brought outside.

When Steve got older and girls turned out not to be so yucky, Steve would take them out on stargazing dates to be romantic. The girls had loved it, something about how romantic it was to be kissed under the stars. And how they thought that King Steve couldn’t be as romantic as he was. Steve would chuckle and say something along the lines of ‘well, I like to make it special for a pretty girl’. Then Nancy came along and it didn’t work with her. For once in his life, King Steve had to work for something.

“Do you take all the girls on these stargazing dates?” she had ribbed at him, not in a bad way, but she was right. Nancy wasn’t going to be as easily wooed, but Steve liked a challenge. So he tried to do things that aligned with her interests, like library dates, the librarian raised an eyebrow at seeing him there. Nancy had liked going to the Hawk for a midnight showing of a new mystery movie, and trying to figure out what was going on before the characters did.

Then the upside-down stuff started happening, and Steve didn’t believe it at first, yeah right his pool had a portal to a different version of Hawkins right in the middle of it, and there were monsters that took creepy Byers’s little brother. Steve still didn’t believe it until he had seen the monster with too many teeth had to beat its face, if you could even call it a face, in with a baseball bat. Steve still saw the thing in his nightmares.

What he didn’t count on was Billy Hargrove. The Californian transplant who had crashed into his life with Motley Crue blaring and a bad attitude. He seemed to be King Steve cranked up to eleven. Billy Hargrove, who had stolen two titles right from under his nose. Billy Hargrove, who had beaten the shit out of him at the Byers' house in November and smashed a plate over his head. But also Billy Hargrive who had come to his house in the middle of January with a split lip and bruised ribs. Billy Hargrove who had silently cried into his shoulder when Steve realised it was his dad who was hitting him and that night at the Byers’ finally made sense.

They had kept their relationship a secret, out of necessity, only ever being intimate when no one else was around. Steve treasured those small moments when Billy had finally let his guard down. The real Billy was someone who had the oceans in his eyes, someone who had a soft spot for the stray cats around Hawkins, someone who was completely at ease in the water. Steve could’ve sworn that he was a mermaid in a past life.

Then Billy got possessed by the Mindflayer.

It was so goddamn painful knowing that he could’ve done so much more to help Billy but he was scared. Scared of the world knowing but Billy had also sworn them to secrecy. He knew that Billy was possessed and he did nothing. He worked the shitty ice cream parlour job at Starcourt acting like he didn’t know what was going on with Billy.

When Billy sacrificed himself to save everyone from the monster, after El had gotten through to him, Steve felt like his heart was ripping in two. There was no way Billy was surviving that. Billy died not knowing that Steve was there in that mall too, that Steve wanted to help him too. How scared must he have been? Not knowing what the hell was going on but his body was doing something that he never asked it to. Steve saw Max sobbing over Billy’s limp body and he was angry with everyone for a second, El had the psychic powers that could’ve saved them all and Billy wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice himself. Why didn’t the kids help Billy like they’d helped Will? Why didn’t he do anything?

Steve watched on as Billy’s body was taken away by guys in white suits for testing. He knew there wouldn’t be a body in Billy’s casket. Steve felt as if he got a limb ripped off. His life wasn’t going to be the same now that Billy wasn’t in it. He didn’t think it was ever going to be the same.

After Billy’s closed-casket funeral, Steve got out his old telescope and found Orion in the night sky. Standing proud and tall with his bow. Focusing on that blue star in the belt. Steve hoped that Billy could see the same from wherever he was now.

#harringrove #harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove flip it reverse it prompt 1 #billy antis dni #harringroveflipitreverseit2023 #flip it reverse it 2023 #billy hargrove

[harringrove-flip-reverse-it]

2024 Prompts

Here are the prompts for Harringrove Flip Reverse It 2024! Don't forget to come and find your people in the Heebie Jeebies discord server while you figure out which ones you're going to fill!

Don’t forget….. Fluff prompts should be angsty…. Angst prompts should be fluffy…. NSFW prompts should be SFW…. SFW prompts should be NSFW…. And Trope Subversion prompts can be anything EXCEPT the traditional way of interpreting the prompt!

Monday 1st July

Fluff:  Found family Angst:  Misunderstandings NSFW:  Dom/sub SFW:  Language of flowers Trope Subversion:  Love at first sight

Tuesday 2nd July

Fluff:  True love’s kiss Angst:  Touch starvation NSFW:  Sex pollen SFW:  Prank war Trope Subversion: Arranged marriage

Wednesday 3rd July

Fluff:  Spa day Angst:  Scars NSFW:  Coming untouched SFW:  Dancing Trope Subversion: Soulmarks

Thursday 4th July

Fluff:  Blanket fort Angst:  Self-sacrifice NSFW:  Collar and leash SFW:  Protectiveness Trope Subversion: Time loop

Friday 5th July

Fluff:  Candlelit dinner Angst:  Regrets NSFW:  Threesomes SFW:  Dog walks Trope Subversion: Enemies to lovers

Saturday 6th July

Fluff:  Valentine’s Day Angst:  Taken prisoner NSFW:  Overstimulation SFW:  Meeting the parents Trope Subversion: Regency AU

Sunday 7th July

Fluff:  Love letters Angst:  Trust issues NSFW:  Blindfolds SFW:  Beach day Trope Subversion: Bodyswap

#flip reverse it 2023 #harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove #harringrove event #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #harringrove fic

[weird-an]

It’s another stupid date he doesn’t want to go to. But that Buckley girl asked him in front of the whole goddamn ice cream parlor, if they wanted to go out. Tonight, to the movies.

Read more on AO3.

Promptfill for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic #harringrove flip reverse it

[ihni]

“Ow, ow, ow, what the fuck?” Steve hissed and tried to escape. Billy’s hands were still tangled in his hair, though, so he couldn’t get away. “Whatever you’re doing, stop doing it!”

“I can’t stop now, I’m only halfway through!” Billy hissed back through clenched teeth. “And if I do, we have to start over again.”

“Or,” Steve said, trying to twist his head into an angle that would lessen the pain, “you practice your braiding technique on someone else. That sounds like a good idea to me!”

Billy disentangled his fingers from Steve’s hair and threw himself backwards in the couch dramatically. “Okay fine! This isn’t working out anyway. Fuck it.”

Wincing, Steve felt at his hair and grimaced at what felt like several knots. “This doesn’t feel like a French braid, babe.”

Flicking his eyes up at the mess atop Steve’s head, Billy pouted, “It doesn’t look much like one, either.” He sighed deeply. “That’s it. I give up.”

Steve sat down next to him in the couch, trying to comb out his hair with his fingers. After a couple of seconds, Billy reached his hand up to help loosen the knots. Steve relaxed into it and let him take over after a while when it became clear that Steve was really only making it worse.

“How important is it that it’s French braids anyway?”

Billy sighed. “Max said it absolutely had to be French braids. Apparently all the girls in their year are doing French braids for their school photos, and she and El don’t want to be the only ones left out.”

“And Susan …?”

“Is out of town.”

“Right.”

Billy lowered his arm and put it around Steve’s shoulders instead. When Steve reached up to feel the top of his head, he was relieved to find that his hair was once again free of knots, even if was sticking up in all directions. “And why can’t Hopper do it? I mean, if El wants to do it, too?”

That drew a laugh out of Billy. “I actually asked him that exact question. He said that he has, and I quote, ‘sausage fingers’, and also that apparently I have enough unpaid speeding tickets for him to put me behind bars for at least a weekend.”

“Wait, did he threaten you?” Steve said, outraged, and turned to face Billy.

Billy laughed. “Yeah, but he also said that if I do this, he can make all those speeding tickets go away.”

“So, bribery.”

“Basically.” Billy shrugged. “At least it beats the threats.”

“Sure,” Steve agreed, “but neither of those are ideal coming from the Chief of Police.”

Billy didn’t reply. Instead he just snuggled closer to Steve on the couch and leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder. There was a library book in front of them on the coffee table, open on the section that showed in eight detailed, black and white images how to make a French braid. They’d been at it for over an hour now, without success. Steve’s scalp was burning, and Billy’s sighs got deeper and deeper for each failed attempt.

“Let me try,” Steve said, taking a deep breath before standing up. “You have longer hair anyway.” It was a testament to Billy’s despair that he didn’t object, and that he didn’t protest even when Steve got behind the couch and started carding his fingers through Billy’s hair. “Where’s that brush?”

Wordlessly, Billy handed him the brush over his shoulder, and then leaned forward to bring the book closer so Steve could see the instructions better.

“It doesn’t look too difficult,” Steve said and started pulling the brush through Billy’s locks.

“It doesn’t, does it,” Billy muttered, but said nothing else as Steve started separating Billy’s hair into sections.

Twenty minutes later, Billy’s hair was in something at least half-resembling a French braid, and Billy was feeling along the braid with a wondrous expression on his face. “Really? You did it? How does it look?”

Steve made a face. “I mean. Not like in the book, but. With practice, I think we can do this.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Steve laughed. “I love you too.” And then he added, while Billy went into the bathroom to check out the final result, “Also, we’re gonna have to bribe the girls with something to make them say that you did their braids. So you’ll get rid of all those tickets.”

“I love you.”

~~~

For @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

(On AO3)

#harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #ihni writes #i designed my own header lol‚ bow before my skills

[chrisbitchtree]

The Laws of Attraction

My fill for Day 1 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Prompt - SFW - School Project

2k - Rated E

***

“How’s that for chemistry, Harrington?” Billy asked, on the edge of a moan. Steve laughed, grasping Billy tighter and stroking faster, eliciting another deep moan from the blonde. “Too bad we can’t write about this for our paper. I’m sure we’d get an A+.”

***

It had all started when Steve had missed his Intro to Human Sexuality class three weeks before. Steve never gets sick. It’s his thing, and he’s weirdly proud of it. Healthy as a horse, with an immune system so strong that the pediatrician would joke that Steve should be studied by science every time he went in for a checkup. Steve would laugh long after the joke got old so he could always be sure the doctor would offer him his favourite sucker, a blue one, at the end of the appointment, after his reflexes were checked and the ice-cold stethoscope was pressed to his chest.

Being so healthy meant that Steve had to get really good at faking colds and flues so he could stay home and eat soup and crackers and watch either game shows, soap operas, or 80s sitcom reruns, depending on which nanny his parents had employed at the time.

Once Steve had started high school and his parents felt that he was past the point of needing a nanny to care for him while they were away and could always reach him on his cellphone if they needed to anyway, he was able to drop the sick act and just ditch school instead. Nobody was going to go to the trouble of tracking down his parents to bother them with the news that their son wasn’t in class that day.

It had gotten even easier once Steve had gone away to college. He would pick and choose what classes he felt like attending and didn’t need to answer to anyone as long as he kept his grades up.

But of course, the first time in his entire life that Steve was too sick to go to school, struck down by food poisoning from some questionable Chinese leftovers he’d found in the mini fridge he kept next to his dorm room bed and used like a fridge, unable to do anything except either puke or lay on the floor next to the toilet waiting to puke again, shivering, and shaking and wishing he was dead, refusing when his floormates tried to offer help. He just had to puke it out.

Finally, at about 8pm, he was feeling slightly better and like the illness had finally run its course. He dragged himself back to bed and curled up in a ball, picking up his phone from where he’d tossed it in the sheets when he’d run for the bathroom and checking his missed notifications.

He had a couple texts from Robin, updating him on all the Hawkins High gossip he was missing out on, and a whole string of them from Dustin that had gotten increasingly frantic as the day had gone on, but the ones that stood out were from Nancy, who of course had ended up at the same school as him, even sharing some of his classes. They’d talked on occasion since breaking up in the fall of their senior year, but it was usually only if they had something important to tell each other so he clicked on hers first.

Nancy – 11:12am: Steve, are you skipping health class again? I heard what Ms. Johnson said to you the other day about your attendance!

Nancy – 11:22am: Partners are being assigned for the huge project in Human Sexuality today. If you don’t get here soon, you might be stuck with Billy. He’s not here today either.

Nancy – 12:37pm: I’m sorry, Steve, you’re going to have to work with Billy. Your topic is chemistry and attraction.

Steve groaned. Just his luck, the one time he’s actually sick, something like this actually happens. He’d done his best to avoid Hargrove since their big fight at the Byers’ the fall of their senior year of high school, as much as you can avoid someone in a town as small as Hawkins, where there was one high school with one basketball team that they both played on.

He’d counted down the days until he was free and could make a fresh start, only to find out that it wouldn’t just be Nancy at his new school, Billy Hargrove would be there too. And then the first day of Human Sexuality, there were both Billy and Nancy, on opposite sides of the front row.

Steve does his best to pretend that Billy’s not there, tamping down an attraction that’s been there since the moment he laid eyes on the other boy. Billy hadn’t confirmed nor denied his sexual preferences since he’d come crashing into Hawkins with his stepmom and stepsister, Max, to be closer to Max’s grandparents after Billy’s dad had died that summer, but if the rumours were true, Billy happily slept with anything on two legs.

Steve doesn’t judge, has no room to, considering how many girls he’s slept with. But that was before Nancy. Since his time with her, he’s been a relationship guy, someone who wants heavy commitment, and Billy just doesn’t seem like that type of guy, so Steve pushes his feelings down, ignoring them in favour of finding someone he could have a relationship with.

 Now though, Steve had no choice but to spend time with Billy. A lot of it, considering that the project was worth half their grade. And of course, of all the possible topics, they got chemistry.

***

For the first few weeks that they met with each other to work on the project, they kept their conversations strictly school related, at Steve’s behest, both because Steve didn’t want to end up down a road he wasn’t prepared for with Billy, and because success in academics didn’t come easily to Steve like it did to Billy. Steve needed a good grade in this class, so he had to stay focused and work hard.

They divvied up the research, Billy focusing on attraction while Steve worked on compatibility. It was coming along good until they met to discuss their findings and work on their thesis topic. They were in Steve’s dorm room, Steve at his desk, and Billy sprawled out on Steve’s bed.

He had his textbook open and upside down across his stomach and his arms crossed behind his head. His white t-shirt was riding up, exposing a strip of flesh between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, and Steve wanted to pull the shirt up, expose him, lick and kiss and nip his way up to Billy’s mouth, wanted to pull the backwards baseball cap off his head and sink his hands into Billy’s curls.

“Hey, Harrington, have you ever thought about whether we have chemistry?” Billy asked. For all his usual bravado, the question came out of his mouth quietly, as if he wasn’t even sure if he wanted Steve to hear him ask it.

Steve looks up, meeting his eye, and he’s giving Steve a look that’s equal parts considering and wanting, his eyes dark. They travel down the length of Steve’s body and back up again, and Steve can’t remember the last time he felt so seen, so wanted.

“What if I have?” he replies, trying for breezy, and failing miserably. He’s way too into this, and it’s showing all over his face.

“Come over here and tell me what you’ve thought about,” Billy says, sitting up and patting the bed beside him.

Steve closes his laptop and takes the few steps to his small bed. He sits next to Billy, their bodies pressed together from head to toe. Steve rubs his knees nervously, trying to wipe some of the sweat off as he psyches himself up to kiss Billy.

He doesn’t have a chance to before Billy turns to him, slipping a hand into the back of Steve’s hair and cupping the back of his skull. Billy pulls him in for a kiss that’s surprisingly tender, as deep and searching as it is.

They stay like that for a long time, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues, getting familiar with each other in a way Steve’s only previously dreamed of. Finally, they pull back to catch their breath, and Billy gives him a dopey grin before leaning in to nip and suck at Steve’s earlobe. He lets out a loud moan at the contact, too turned on to be embarrassed by the sound.

“Like that, don’t you, pretty boy?” Billy asks, rhetorically, before returning to the task.

Unsure of what to do, Steve slides his hands up under Billy’s t-shirt, exploring the planes of his stomach and the pecs that were the driving force behind most of his senior year jerk off fantasies. And god, they feel just as good as he thought they would, soft and pillowy, but firm at the exact same time. He’s in heaven.

“Can I give you a hand, Harrington?” Billy asks, hand hovering over the button on Steve’s jeans.

“Yes, yeah. Can I, you, uh,” Steve replies, barely able to get the words out, motioning gracelessly at Billy’s own jeans, and Billy undoes the button on Steve’s jeans and unzips his fly. Steve stands and pulls his jeans and boxers down to his knees as Billy undoes his own pants and pulls them down.

Billy pulls him back into a kiss for a minute before pulling away again.

“You got lube in here?” he asks, even as he leans over and pulls a bottle out of Steve’s bedside table drawer. He squirts some on his own and doles out some to Steve before dropping it into the sheets.

They grasp each other in their slicked up hands, and holy shit, Steve’s not going to ask long. It feels too amazing to finally have Billy’s hands on him. If the little whimpers and gasps coming out of Billy’s mouth are anything to go by, he’s not going to last long either.

They stroke each other at a fast pace as Steve tries to see how many hickeys, he can give Billy before they both cum. Three’s the magic number, then Billy’s bucking into Steve’s grasp, and Steve’s doing the same for him, then they’re coming all over each other’s hands and stomachs, gasping into each other’s mouths as they come down from their shared high.

***

They’re laying in bed after, sweaty and panting, Billy starfished out over Steve’s body, with his boxers pulled up but his jeans kicked off onto the floor, a heavy, reassuring weight. When Steve used to fantasize about this moment, he always pictured Billy to be the kind of guy that would hook up and run, but if anything, he seems to be settling in, using Steve’s chest like a pillow, and twining their legs together. It’s exactly what Steve would have asked for if he could decide how this would go. It’s nice, it’s sweet, and Steve could get used to it.

“So, Harrington,” Billy says, his voice quiet but rough, probably from how deep he took Steve’s cock into his mouth. “Do you think we should add this to the paper? Maybe we’ll get extra credit for doing hands on research.”

Steve snorts, swatting him. “As much as I could use the extra points, I think I want to keep this all to myself.”

#harringrove #harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove reverse it 2023 #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove fic #lemon #chrisbitchtree writes

[kiraixi]

Secret GirlBoyfriend?

Wednesday 29th March ✩ NSFW:  “Caught in the Act” (Flip-Reverse) @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

ao3

“Okay, bye Steve!” 

Steve looks skeptical, “Are you sure Dustin? I don’t want any calls from the neighbours.” 

He puts on a slight frown, this plan needs to work. 

“We’re nearly fourteen, dude. A couple hours alone won’t kill us”

Steve mutters back, “Of course you’d say that.” Dustin grins,

“I’ll be two hours max.” He walks backwards glaring, “So don’t do anything stupid okay?”

Dustin salutes him off, “Aye captain!”

As soon the car starts, he dashes into the living room.

“He’s gone, we’re free to search!”

The party gets up. Well, minus the girls.

Max has been huffy since morning and El seems too engrossed in the movie to care.

Whatever, they don’t care as much as he does. But Dustin is Steve’s right hand man, said he was cool and everything!

This one secret he’s kept to his chest just means that Dustin needs to sleuth around and find out. Steve would never keep something from his best friend, right?

For the past two months Steve Harrington has been going steady with a secret girlfriend. He’s been so tight-lipped about it that the only hint Dustins’ been able to wrangle out of is that the lady’s a blonde.

He found bleached hairs in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. Only he has the privilege of a shotgun, so of course those strands must belong to the special someone.

Dustin’s definitely not jealous or resentful, nope not one bit.

Taking the stairs two at a time he pulls out a notebook, ready to jot down any discrepancies in the house.

The best room to check is Steve’s. Mike follows him inside while Lucas and Will check the other rooms for clues.

The room is messy, it seems like the laundry hasn’t been done in awhile. Dustin yanks open the closest draw and starts to rummage while Mike searches the desk.

He’s the one to break the silence of moving objects,

“Are you sure we should be looking?” Kicks over a gray sweatshirt, “I don’t wanna see anything– weird”

Dustin turns around pulling a crop top from the bottom more aggressively than he should. The whole drawer shakes.

It has a ‘LIFEGUARD’ emblem on the front. He waves it like a celebration flag. Totally not Steve’s style therefore,

“Look! This is definitely hers!” 

Mike gives him a look, “It’s a bit creepy you're so obsessed with this..”

He huffs, throwing the garment on the floor and notes down the item.

‘Lifeguard’

“If you’re too much of a coward to look then fine! I’m just being a good wingman checking if some random girl is good enough for Steve Harrington.”

“Whatever man, I’m just gonna go downstairs,” He walks towards the door. “Look under the bed, my sister loves to keep her secret stash of things there”

He salutes him off, “Thanks for the tip!”

Once Mike is well downstairs Dustin drops to his knees getting ready to crawl under, he spots a few things. A cardboard box and a piece of blue fabric?

He slides the box out first, then tries to reach for the cloth pulling it out to see better.

But as soon as he realises what it is Dustin gives a girlish screech that he will forever deny. 

It's a freaking thong. Ew!

Lucas and Will come running from the passageway, once they spot the offending item Lucas starts laughing while Will looks slightly uncomfortable.

“Dude! What did you think you’d find under someone's bed?”

He tries to hide his embarrassment, “Shut up man, just tell me what you two found.” Kicking the lace back under the bed he sits down.

Will speaks first, “Well in the bathroom there was a feather earring, creams–” 

“And some rings,” Lucas adds. “But they were really big..”

He frowns, “Okay?”

“Yeah, maybe Steve started wearing them?” Will replies.

He puts it on the list but crosses it out after, Dustin’s never seen Steve wear any rings before, Lucas is probably exaggerating the size..

Lucas looks at the box with a question on his face, “Where did you find that?”

Dustin motions both to sit next down and explains Mike's idea of looking under the bed.

 “I’m pretty sure opening its’ gonna be another jumpscare Dustin,” 

He huffs, of course Will is the voice of reason.

To be on the safe side he shakes the box before opening, it rattles. Multiple small objects. He lifts the lid no longer scared.

A bunch of makeup. Boring. 

There’s a collection of jewellery, mostly silver.

‘Wears silver’

There’s a piece of yellow sticky note poking out from the bottom, he tugs on it and frowns, showing it to the others.

In red ink there’s Steve’s signature chicken scratches, but underneath is response in an odd shade of blue, faded and smudged. Either low quality or almost running out as the ink skips a bit. It’s smaller than Steve’s but comically much sharper in comparison.

The red reads ‘Bluebird ’ with a sad imitation of what he assumes is a bird, while the biro responds ‘Idiot’ with a better looking heart.

“I recognise the pen!” Will exclaims

Dustin snorts while Lucas raises his eyebrows incredulously.

“You recognise the pen from its ink??”

Will nods, “Where my mum works, those are the pen’s that are normally on display to test in the stationary section.” He points to the writing. “I’m normally stuck with those if I forget my pencil case at home.”

Lucas butts in “So what does that mean? Steve’s girlfriend is a pen thief?”

He chews his thumbnail thinking over this new information, “No, this person shops at Meldav’s which means…”

Dustin looks up at the others, Meldav’s isn’t known for its quality. Most people would rather head to the Mall to buy something like stationary. He writes down.

‘Poor?’

They hear running up the stairs, Dustin slams the lid on the container and shoves it under the bed.

Mike opens the door and all three of them visibly deflate.

“My mum’s here to pick us up” He looks at Lucas “ She said she can drop you off as well.”

The two get up leaving Dustin to trail behind. He’s the only one being babysat tonight since his Mom’s out of town for the weekend.

The group gets ready to leave, he swivels his head around realising Max isn't here. 

El looks up from tying her shoelaces, “She wanted to skate home before it gets dark.”

He shrugs looking at the clock above the door, guess it's gonna be himself for the next half hour.

The others wave him off, Dustin decides to make a hot chocolate and laze on the fancy couch while he waits.

Sifting through the kitchen he finds a questionable amount of sweet food. Half finished bags of lollipops, soda, chocolate all seem to be piled into one draw. 

A bit weird since Steve always turns down any offers of candy that Dustin has on hand. Says he’s ‘building his figure’. He writes it down.

‘Sweet tooth’

Afterwards Dustin crashes on the sofa, drink in hand. It’s getting dark outside and once pulling a big cushion over himself, he’s dozing off to the hum of soap operas.

                                 ~

“He’s asleep, don’t worry babe..”

Dustin awakes to the quiet giggling and whispers of Steve and someone else.

It takes a few seconds for him to register but once he does Dustin stiffens in realisation. It's them!  

Peaking over the couch will solve the mystery that’s been bugging him for months.

Slowly edging upwards, a smile pulls his lips. He’s finally caught them.

The secret girlfriend that's been hoarding so much of his best friends' time, Pride and relief swell in his gut.

He lifts his head.

A few things happen at once.

Dustin makes eye contact with a mop of blonde hair, but his eye’s fly open in horror once he realises exactly which blonde it is. 

Billy fucking Hargrove.

Billy yells shoving Steve, who was previously whispering in his ear, away and points at Dustin. 

“I FUCKING told you this was a bad idea!

Steve whips around spotting Dustin and smiles sheepishly.

Dustin just stares, eyes darting between the two. He’s lost for words really.

“So this is the secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding?”

The blonde turns so suddenly Dustin’s surprised he’s not snapped his neck. Billy yanks Steve forward by the collar.

“Secret Girlfriend…?”

Steve fumbles around, arms flailing and out of breath.

“I– I can explain!”

Billy grapples with Steve in what Dustin assumes is a headlock while he slides stealthily back down the couch.

“You going behind my back pretty boy?”

“This is all a misunderstanding I swear!”

Their wrestling dissolves into laughter, seemingly forgetting his presence.

Maybe Dustin will leave this a mystery unsolved.

Hope y'all enjoyed! It’s just turned his birthday where I am so enjoy early!

#harringrove flip reverse it #flip reverse it 2023 #harringroveweek #Billy Hargrove #harringrove #kiraixi

[kittyphoenix12-xx]

Billy's Birthday Bonanza: Day 6

yes i know this is a day late but shhhh

for @harringroveweek day 6

Molly Ringwald’s Wish: To Be Paired with Steve for Class Gift Wrapped: Tony Bennett Vinyl How Many Candles on the Birthday Cake: 12 years old Cake Slice: Confetti Cake That’s Not Frosting: For the Very First Time (nothing sexual tho)

and for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it i used nsfw -> sfw: stripping

Steve Harrington was the prettiest boy that Billy had ever met. He sat in front of him in class, with his big hair and big dumb grin, eating a bagel and getting crumbs everywhere. He was so stupid, constantly getting answers wrong and asking dumb questions that made Tammy Thompson giggle and kick her feet and that definitely was not annoying. At all.

#harringroveweek #harringrove flip reverse it #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington