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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 7 months

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The Only Tally Mark

Ship: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: The 'You Suck' tallies are getting pretty high, but there's a girl in Scoops Ahoy who knows Robin in wrong. If she can just get the courage to open her mouth, Steve's luck is about to change.

Word Count: 7,250 words

Warnings: Robin's a bit mean, she also has no filter, pining, Steve's failed flirting attempts, blatant staring/pining, implied confession, first kiss

Note: Set pre-s4 and the day Dustin comes back, before the Russian code is cracked.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

July had only just begun in Hawkins, and you could already tell it was going to be a hot one. Less than twenty-four hours in, temperatures had already hit record-breaking highs—at least, that was according to the weatherman on the television you were sat in front of, sweating and feeling relief from the heat only when the fan beside you swiveled back toward you.

“Every July is this hot,” your father said from the kitchen, where he was drinking his second glass of water in five minutes.

“Oh, sure, but never this early,” your mother retorted. “It’s only the first, and already we’re melting out of the house.”

Sensing an irritable argument birthed from the nearly unbearable heat, you left the living room and headed up the stairs to your bedroom. You picked up the phone you’d begged your parents to let you have years ago, dialing the number of your best friend of four years: Robin Buckley, the band dweeb to your theatre kid.

It was her mom who answered the phone, several dial tones later. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Buckley—is Robin home?”

“Oh, hi, sweetie! She’s at work right now, her shift ends at seven.”

You stopped yourself from swearing. “Oh, right, I forgot. Thank you!”

“No problem, dear,” Mrs. Buckley said before hanging up.

You leaned against the wall. How could you have forgotten? Robin had been telling you about her new job in the mall—and the sailor’s uniform she had to wear. You’d seen her get ready for work once and had burst into giggles the moment she put the hat on her head.

You glanced at the digital clock next to your bed, checking the time. There was still several hours before the mall closed. You might as well visit Robin and abuse your friendship to get some free ice cream at the same time, right?

So you grabbed your wallet and shoved it in your pocket and bounded down the stairs.

"Hey, I'm going out!" you shouted to your parents.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" your father asked, appearing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.

"To the mall? Robin works there and I'm going to visit."

"Don't spend too much, dear!" your mother called.

"Sure, Mom!"

You hopped in your car and headed for the mall, following the thick cluster of traffic that always lined the streets leading to the mall, passing through the streets lined with empty, hollow shops.

~❊~

The mall was crowded, as busy as it had always been since the day it opened. You pushed your way through the crowds gathered around storefronts and display windows, trying to remember which floor Scoops Ahoy was on.

You took the escalator down to the first floor and scanned the shops surrounding you. When you spotted the sign for the ice cream store, you headed toward it, maneuvering past a group of pre-teens cackling about manipulating the store's workers into giving them free samples.

There was no one at the counter when you walked in. A majority of the tables were occupied by groups of teens. As you approached the register, you could hear faint bickering from behind the pebbled glass windows, Robin's distinct voice floating out to you.

"...do the job you're supposed to do, I've been scooping so much ice cream my hand's cramped," she was saying.

You stifled a giggle and tapped your hand lightly against the bell in front of you, wincing when it was a little louder than you had been expecting.

The swing door on the left opened with a bang, revealing the back of a boy who was gesturing at Robin, who was quite literally pushing him out the door. She disappeared before you could catch her attention, and the other attendant took up his place in front of the register.

"Ahoy, sailor! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain, I'm Steve Harrington."

You blinked at him. "Is that company policy like the hat and the outfit?"

He stared at you. "I'm sorry, what?"

You shrugged. "I'm a friend of Robin's, she complains about the, and I quote, stupid company rules that make everyone look stupid."

He stared at you. You stared at him. Awkward silence settled between the two of you.

The introduction hadn't been necessary. You had spent most of your high school experience listening to Robin complain about Steve Harrington and his stupid perfect hair and his stupid easy charm and his stupid actual stupidity. The Steve she'd painted matched up perfectly with the kid you'd seen around in the halls, dressed in his ironed polo shirts and pleated khakis or that stupid basketball uniform and letterman jacket—and Nancy Wheeler on his arm.

You and Robin had watched his life crash and burn with malicious glee—and all the while you had tried to ignore that this was the very same boy you'd crushed on in middle school, and had been so shocked to find out had changed so much when you got to the high school, a year after he did.

Steve cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the register, firmly away from you. "Um. What can I get you?"

"Uh..." Every ice cream flavor you had ever liked instantly disappeared from your head. It wasn't like the usual mind-blankness that came from being asked a question about your favorite anything. It was like your entire body had stopped, freezing in the pretty face of Steve Harrington, ridiculous as the uniform was. Especially with the hat, which Robin hadn't told you about.

The door swung open again. "Jesus, Steve, what's taking you so damn long?" Robin froze where she stood. A smile lit up her face. "What are you doing here?!"

You grinned. "Visiting!"

Robin hip-checked Steve out of the way. Steve glared at her while she grabbed the ice cream scoop from the pocket at his side.

"Jesus, do you have to be so brutal?" he snapped.

Clearly fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Robin turned back to Steve. "I'm sorry, would you please get out of the way so I can serve my best friend? Thanks," she said, her customer service smile plastered to her face.

Muttering under his breath, Steve pushed away from the counter, leaning on the sill of the window behind him. He crossed his arms, still staring resolutely at the floor.

Robin grinned at you. "I wasn't expecting you to—"

"Be here?" you finished. "I called your house before I realized you were working, so I thought I might as well come visit."

"Glad you did," she said. "You would not believe how much of a headache it is working with dingus over there."

You glanced over her shoulder at Steve, his pink lips forming a pissy pout. Oh, yeah. Still pretty, still a bitch.

"You didn't tell me you worked with him," you said under your breath.

Robin shrugged, shooting you a knowing smile. "Yeah, well, I knew you'd show up and find out for yourself eventually." Her eyes slid to the corners, as if she could see Steve sulking behind her. "We'll talk about him later. What ice cream do you want? On us."

You giggled. "How did I know you'd say that?"

She snorted. "Oh, so you're abusing our friendship for free ice cream?"

"Maybe," you said. "Just this once."

Robin rolled her eyes and grabbed an ice cream cone. "Here—I'll grab your favorite."

And, without you needing to remind her, she lowered the scoop into the tub of ice cream that you got every time the two of you had gotten ice cream after going to see a movie, back before the mall. You wondered how you could have forgotten, until you looked over Robin's shoulder again and found Steve looking up, lips parted and eyes fixed on you. The minute you caught his gaze, he blushed and looked away.

You took advantage of his embarrassment, admiring the pink in his cheeks and how he awkwardly licked his lips. He toyed with the watch on his wrist, crossed and uncrossed his legs. Was he nervous? An even better question—had you ever seen Steve Harrington nervous before?

While you studied Steve, Robin made a second cone of ice cream, a different flavor than yours.

Robin looked behind her. "Hey—man the counter, will you? I'm going on break."

Steve spluttered. "You just came back from break!"

"No, we just finished our lunch break. I still have my federally-required thirty minutes to take. So I'm gonna take 'em." She shoved the scoop at Steve's chest and stepped out from behind the counter.

The pair of you took an unoccupied table near the counter, in case she was needed.

"Should you be leaving him to do it by himself?" you asked, glancing back at Steve one last time.

"What, are you worried about him? He'll be fine," Robin said. She shrugged with a sigh. "He's...he's not as bad as we thought he was in high school. He's less of a douche now, at least."

"Just a dingus?" you asked with a smile.

She nodded. "He's still as stupid as we always thought."

You turned your attention away from Steve at toward your ice cream. "Why didn't you tell me he worked with you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Let's not have that conversation while he's here, okay? For your dignity's sake. I know he's far away, but he's got impressive hearing." She shrugged. "Blame it on four years of listening for gossip, I guess."

Your gaze shifted back to Steve as he raked a hand through his hair, stretching enough for his shirt to lift. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you crossed your legs. Now that he wasn't surrounded by assholes who mocked you and Robin and your friends for their own personal entertainment, it was easier to appreciate how he'd grown into himself since middle school. Taking care of himself had made him a whole new level of handsome.

Robin giggled. "Yeah—that's why we're not gonna talk about this while he's around. You still have a thing for him, don't you?"

Steve relaxed against the countertop, fixing his hair and putting the hat back on with a scowl. You cleared your throat.

"I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"Me? Forget about you having the most embarrassing crush on him for years? Only to get to high school and find out he'd become a dick? Never."

You groaned. "Oh, stop rubbing it in!"

A gaggle of girls walked into the store, four of them giggling and talking and rolling their eyes. Immediately, Steve stood up a little straighter and fiddled with his uniform.

Robin snorted. "Oh, watch this. He's been failing catastrophically with every girl that walks in. I keep count."

"You keep count?"

She nodded gleeful, pointing with her chin in the direction of the counter.

"Ahoy, ladies!" Steve said, leaning on the counter. His attempt to be attractive failed dismally, however, when his hand slipped off the side and he lost both his balance and his composure for a moment.

One of the girls giggled with her friend. Steve's cheeks darkened.

"I'm Steve Harrington, I'll be your captain on this ocean of flavor. What can I get you lovely ladies today?"

You glanced at Robin. "I don't see what he's doing wrong."

"That's because this is scripted," Robin whispered back.

The first girl stepped forward. "One scoop of chocolate and one of vanilla, please."

Steve tried a debonaire smile. "Oooh, classic, I like it. I'm all for vanilla myself, you know, all the time."

You winced. "Was...was that supposed to be a double entendre?"

"Yep," Robin said, popping the p with a smirk.

"I see what you mean now," you said. The girl was making a face that said she caught Steve's drift and found it rude. Steve cleared his throat and moved on, scooping ice cream into a cone and handing it to her with a mortified whisper of "here you go." His gaze flicked over to you and Robin, at which point his mortification seemed to grow.

You watched the exchange grow steadily worse. Steve stumbled over his words and tripped over his feet and dropped an empty cone twice. Customers who had already gotten ice cream became onlookers who left, one by one, as the secondhand embarrassment grew.

"God, he's hopeless," you whispered. "Whatever happened to the Steve in high school?"

"You mean the one with a new girl on his arm every week? I'd say that stopping can be blamed on one Nancy Wheeler," Robin said.

You rolled your eyes. "While they were dating, obviously. But now? One relationship shouldn't make him incapable of flirting with a girl."

Robin watched the girls leave, snickering behind their hands. A moment later, Steve groaned, wiping a hand over his face. "You know what I think his problem is?"

"What?"

"He's trying to flirt all of them into submission, not just one girl he likes out of the group."

You nodded slowly. "Sounds about right. I mean...if he flirted with me one minute and then you the next, I don't think I'd want to jump his bones, exactly."

Robin rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about? You've always wanted to jump his bones."

"That was middle school, and that was before any of us gave a shit about sex."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Robin teased. "I saw how you looked at him during gym class."

You shrugged, trying to hide your face behind your hair. Robin knew your expressions better than anyone; your embarrassment was going to be obvious the minute she caught sight of you. "It's gym class! Guys don't wear shirts ninety percent of the time, they practically invite girls to stare." Your gaze slid back to Steve, who was once again staring at the floor. His cheeks were still red, and that pretty mouth of his had once again formed a pout. "Jesus, I don't think I've ever seen him so...despondent."

"He's like that at least five times a shift," Robin said. She played with a small red plastic spoon she had pulled from her pocket. "You know... You could come work here with us. Then you'd get to see Steve every day."

"Robin, you're constantly complaining about how much you hate working your, and I quote, pitiful minimum wage job."

"Yeah, but you like Steve, and eye candy makes the day go by faster."

You swatted her arm discreetly. "Don't objectify him!"

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, Steve!"

Steve looked up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack, even with some distance between your table and the counter. "What?"

"Come convince her to work with us!"

You glared at her. "Robin, I already have a summer job!" you protested, trying to stop your heart from racing as Steve approached the two of you. You looked anywhere but him, knowing a soft smile and a well-timed flutter of his eyelashes was all it would take for Steve to convince you to do anything he asked.

Steve pulled a chair from the other table for two next to you, spinning it unnecessarily in his hand and dragging it to the edge of your table. He straddled it, leaning his arms against the backrest. Your heart climbed into your throat.

Steve's eyes met yours and every thought melted from your brain. Brown had never been such a pretty color. Although his eyes weren't just brown, they were hazel, mottled with soft greens and blues and greys. You'd never seen such beautiful eyes before, so expressive and kind and interested and attentive and—

"Tell her why she should come work with us," Robin said, breaking your focus on Steve's eyes.

You rolled your eyes. "Robin, I already have a job," you repeated. "A job I like that pays well that I can work at year-round."

Steve snorted, shaking his head absentmindedly. "Then don't come here, that's for sure. The pay is shit, the job is just as bad, and nobody likes ice cream in the winter."

Robin glared at him. "What part of convincing her do you not understand?"

Steve shrugged, ignoring her. "But, then again, you'd get to work with Robin and you might alleviate my boredom from dealing with her all the time." He jerked his head toward Robin. "You wouldn't believe how mean to me she is."

You stifled a giggle as Robin huffed. An easy grin reminiscent of the king he once as slid across Steve's face. You felt slightly giddy, knowing you had been the one to put it there.

More people walked into the store and Robin shot to her feet. "Come on, dingus. We have a job to do." She dragged him to his feet, ignoring his hiss of complaint. He shot you an apologetic shrug as she pulled him behind the register again.

While the two of them got back to work, you sat back in your booth table and finished your ice cream. Once you were done, you discreetly snuck out of the store, leaving a note for Robin at the counter promising to call her after her shift.

As you wrote the note and taped it to the register, you failed to notice Steve pause where he was scooping ice cream to watch you, or that his gaze stayed on you until you left the store and Robin had to snap him out of his reverie.

~❊~

Though it seemed utterly impossible, the next day was even hotter than the last. You lasted all of two hours at the community pool before you got tired of the screaming children and moms flirting with Billy Hargrove and you went home.

You changed out of your bathing suit, dressing more consciously than you had since the eighth grade semi-formal. You selected your jewelry carefully before hopping in your car and heading to the mall for a second time that week.

Scoops Ahoy was significantly less busy when you walked in. Robin looked half-asleep where she stood at the counter, but she brightened when you walked in.

"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" she asked, leaning on the counter with a grin.

You shrugged. "It's hot, ice cream is a solution."

She studied you for a moment. "The pool didn't solve that?"

You scoffed. "Hell no. It's full of tiny children and middle-aged moms and girls who only go so they can take up space and stare at Billy."

"And there's no Steve there, is there?" Robin teased.

You rolled your eyes. "No," you admitted. "Or you."

Robin scooped your ice cream and passed it to you over the countertop. "He'll be back soon, his break ends in a minute. He went to go grab us food."

"He what?"

Robin shrugged. "Yeah, he does that a lot. I hate to say it, but he's actually a nice guy. I think we might have been wrong about him."

You grinned. "So I was right back in middle school! I told you."

Robin rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you did." She cleared her throat. "Behind you."

You heard Steve's footsteps approaching a split second before he said, "Hey, you're back! Applying?"

Turning to face him, you snorted. "Absolutely not. I'm here for ice cream and ice cream alone."

Steve frowned. "What are we, chopped liver?" he asked, gesturing between himself and Robin.

"I'm surprised you know that phrase," Robin said.

Steve made a face. "I do know some things, Robin." He turned back to you. "I told you she's mean to me."

You laughed. "She's mean to everyone sometimes, it's nothing personal."

"Yes it is, dingus," Robin said, and you remembered she had plenty of reasons aside from Steve's years mocking her and her friends to be angry with him.

You just shrugged at him when Steve looked at you for guidance. He copied your shrug and passed Robin a plastic bag that smelled heavenly.

"If I'd known you were coming to visit, I would have gotten you something," Steve said apologetically.

"Oh, it's fine," you promised. "I've got ice cream." He smiled at you, his laughter shining through. "Honestly, I'm surprised you two don't exist off of ice cream."

"We used to," Robin said.

Steve nodded. "It got pretty tiring after a week. It's like when they told us in health class that energy from sugar doesn't last very long. Or something like that."

Robin squinted at him. "You can't remember enough of high school to get to college, but you can remember health class?"

"I remembered enough to graduate," Steve mumbled, cheeks turning pink once again. You were starting to get used to Steve's embarrassment. It was as cute as he always was.

"Stay and eat with us," Robin said, turning back to you. "I'll split my fries with you. You did remember the fries, didn't you, dingus?"

"Of course I remembered the fries," Steve snorted. He dropped the Closed for lunch! sign on the counter and held the swinging door open for you. You thanked him as you walked by, aware of his eyes following you.

You sat in the seat Robin pulled out for you and finished your ice cream before stealing some of the previously offered fries.

"I think we're closing early, Robin," Steve said, glancing out the cracked window. "We've had, what, three people all day?"

"Four if you count the Radio Shack employee across the way," Robin said. "But I don't, because they get it for free."

You frowned. "Do I not count as a customer because you give me ice cream for free?"

Steve shook his head a bit too quickly. "No, you count, Robin just doesn't like the Radio Shack employees."

"Because they're rude," she complained. "They complain about everything and change their minds three times—but always after you've already started scooping, and even when you're done, they don't like it!"

"Sounds like a regular day in customer service," you said, feigning cheerfulness.

"Yeah, a shitty day," Robin said.

"Where do you work?" Steve asked. "I don't think I've ever asked."

"The record store down on Main," you said.

"You know, the one I said I had been planning on working at," Robin said. "But Scoops hired faster."

"Maybe we should switch jobs," Steve muttered.

Robin snorted. "Yeah, like that'll go over well."

"The store won't hire more people, anyway," you cut in. "It got rid of most of the staff, especially the new people, to cut costs because of the mall."

"Is there a record store in here?" Steve asked.

"No, but there is a Sam Goody and a Camelot Music in the mall. We used to have a partnership with the Sam Goody on Main, but then it closed due to the mall, and we started losing business to the one in the mall." You sighed. "I hear about it all the time. It's all the owner ever talks about these days."

Steve munched on a fry, staring at you as you spoke. His eyes were stuck firmly on you. You tried not to squirm under his intense gaze.

Robin leaned back in her chair. "One of these days, I'm gonna visit you at work instead."

You rolled your eyes. "If you ever have a day off," you said.

"Kinda hard to have a day off when we're the only two working here," Steve said.

You nodded. "The constant problem of being short staffed."

"That would be solved if you just came and worked here," Robin muttered into her wrap. You rolled your eyes again, stealing another one of her fries.

"No, Robin."

Robin harrumphed and took a bite of her sandwich more viciously than twas strictly required.

Steve faked a pout. "You just really don't like us, do you?"

"She doesn't," Robin agreed, smirking. You knew that smirk; she was going to do her best to guilt trip you—using Steve, which was perhaps the only way to guilt you into doing what she wanted.

You rolled your eyes. "It's got nothing to do with you, I promise."

"Ouch," they said in unison.

You frowned. "What are you, the same person?"

They both shrugged.

"Alright, that's just weird," you sighed. You glanced down at your watch. "How long does your lunch break last?"

"Thirty minutes. Why?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "Wouldn't want you to get fired because I'm here distracting you."

Steve propped his head up on his hand. Stray curls of hair fell into his face. Your heart twisted in your chest. He was beautiful. How could he be so beautiful?

Robin watched as you and Steve stared at each other. You were aware of her gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of you, observing the way you were melting under his gaze, your lips parting the longer he looked at you, the barriers you'd put up slowly crumbling. Steve was no better, staring at you with open, asking eyes. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and it took everything in you not to whimper.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the look on Robin's face—the look of disgust that crossed her face every time she was disgusted by public affection from straight couples. Your heart did flips at the sight of her expression.

"Would you guys stop that?" she groaned, getting up from her seat.

"Doing what?" Steve asked, still looking at you. You tore your eyes away from him and back to the half-empty container of fries.

"Making eyes at each other," she said. Steve spluttered, instantly losing the lovey look in his eyes.

"Making eyes— Robin, what are you talking about?"

You cleared your throat. "Hey, um, what's the board for?" You hoped your question would steer the conversation away from the feeling bubbling in your chest at the sight of Steve.

Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"I told you I was keeping score of Steve's failing dating life. This is my scoreboard."

You nearly choked. "You keep track of it on a whiteboard at work?!" You looked at the neatly drawn board, the 'You Rule' and 'You Suck' columns divided by a line.

"Actually, I have to put the one from yesterday on here."

Steve groaned again, cheeks burning very red. He looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and stay there.

You watched her add a line. "Robin..."

"She's right, I suck," Steve sighed. "My luck's been pretty shit recently."

"You don't suck, she's just being mean," you said. You sent her a look, shaking your head slightly. She just shrugged.

"You don't have to be nice about it," he said. "I know how bad I am at this. I haven't gotten laid in months."

"Okay, too much information, Steve," you said with a little laugh.

"Oh, so this suddenly isn't a safe place to talk about all our life troubles?" he teased.

You laughed fully. He smiled, and the room seemed to light up with the glow emanating from him.

"Get a room," Robin groaned.

Steve turned around. "I'm not flirting, Robin!"

"Yeah, right," Robin smirked. "It's just working this time."

You coughed. "I, um, I have to go."

They both turned back to you, as if they'd forgotten that you were even there.

"Shit, hang on," Steve started, but Robin cut him off.

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that—" Robin said, realizing she'd practically told Steve you liked him.

"Yeah, right, I know, I just have, uh..." You fumbled for an excuse for a minute. "I have to go drive a friend home! I'll call you later, Robs!" You rushed out the swinging door just as the bell at the counter rang.

Steve pushed his hands through his hair. "Shit."

"Oh, no," Robin whispered. "Steve, ignore that, ignore all of that, I screwed up, I shouldn't have said anything, she's going to be so pissed. It's just that she's liked you since middle school and it's gotten worse now that you're not a douchebag—" Robin clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I won't tell her you said that," Steve said quietly. "Oh, Jesus, Robin..."

"I'm sorry—"

"Stop apologizing to me," Steve said. "If you hadn't said anything, I never would have realized."

Robin made a face. "See, that's why you suck, not because you're bad at flirting with girls. You've just been flirting with the wrong ones, because you're oblivious of the ones that actually like you."

Steve was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. Thanks for pointing that out." He peered out the window, watching you leave the mall, wiping at your eyes and pushing your hair out of your eyes.

Simultaneously, Steve and Robin whispered, "Shit."

At the counter, Erica Sinclair tapped the bell again. "Hello? I want some samples!"

They shouted, "Shut up!"

Steve slammed the glass doors shut.

~❊~

Steve unlocked his front door, stepped inside his house, and put his back to the closed door. He slid down the door with a heavy sigh.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath. All he had been able to see since you left Scoops was your stricken face, horrified and embarrassed that Robin had spilled your biggest secret. (Which Robin had told him after, in bits and pieces, while they closed up the store.)

Steve couldn't believe it. How had he never noticed? Granted, he hadn't been the most observant for, well, the majority of his life. And his middle school years had been fairly dull, unmemorable. But wouldn't have noticed if you—you, out of everyone in Hawkins Middle—had been crushing on him?

To his utter shame, the most Steve remembered of you in middle school was how you had been a good friend to him, long before any of his high school friends knew who he was, and that he'd ditched you once he got to high school. You'd helped him study a few times, too. He wasn't sure what year it was, but he knew you'd helped him pass both English and History in the same year.

He'd shared a handful of classes with you, too, when classes had been so small they'd mixed grades. Sixth grade science, when the two of you had worked on a minor chemical project together. In seventh grade, you'd had two classes together. Gym, which had been downright brutal so early in the morning, especially when the teachers split up the teams as boys against girls. He remembered you had gotten nailed in the head with a basketball once, and that he'd been asked by your teacher to take you to the nurse. Then there had been math class, where he'd sat behind you, asking you questions and begging you to explain the concepts he didn't understand—even though you didn't understand it much more than he did. Eighth grade history, where Steve had done a presentation on his grandfather's experience in the World War, and you had been the only to actually raise your hand to ask a question.

Steve got up from the door and went up to his bathroom, stripping out of his uniform to take a shower. While the water soaked his hair and skin, warming him up, Steve's mind turned back to you—not that it had ever really left you.

You had been his first crush. Well, his first real crush. You'd been pretty, even when you were young and curious and a year younger than he was. Most of his friends had said that the younger girls were cute, but embarrassing to like. So Steve hid that he liked you. It wasn't until Nancy in high school, when it became cool, that he dated anyone younger than himself.

He wished he'd said something to you then. Would it have saved him a world of hurt? Or would it just have been an even worse broken heart waiting for him?

Steve recalled the way you had looked at him earlier, your eyes practically sparkling and your lips stretching into a gorgeous, content smile. It had stopped his heart to know that he was the reason you looked so happy, that he had brought that smile to your lips and that he had made those smile lines around your eyes appear and that he had been the reason your pupils were blown wide.

Steve shut off the shower and pulled on a new pair of boxers, flopping onto his bed with a content sigh, which matched the happy smile on his face.

You liked him.

Feeling like a teenage girl, Steve rolled until he could hide an excited squeal in his pillow.

You liked him again.

Steve was certain that's what made him so giddy. You'd liked him before he'd become King Steve, before the popularity made him interesting—and you liked him again, now that he'd changed and learned and grown up. Now that he'd learned to be himself without a care in the world for anyone else's opinion.

It was like redemption, but it felt so much better than that.

A sudden feeling overwhelmed Steve.

The next time he saw you, he needed to tell you how he felt about you. He needed to make it clear that Robin's slip-up had not ruined the slow banter, the friendship the two of you had been dancing around.

Resolved, his thoughts stopped spinning. He turned off the lamp on his nightstand and shut his eyes.

Please come back tomorrow, he thought, before falling into a gentle sleep, full of dreams of romanticized meetings, confessions, and kisses.

~❊~

You avoided Scoops for several days, choosing to tough out the warm weather in the overcrowded community pool until your mortification subsided. Robin had called repeatedly to assure you Steve wasn't weirded out or annoyed or embarrassed by your crush on him. In fact, she almost made it sound as if he was pleased by it.

But you still couldn't make yourself go to Scoops Ahoy. Even the mental image of walking in and seeing Steve's face twist with some kind of disgust made your stomach twist.

But a girl could only take so much of Billy Hargrove. So, after nearly a week, you drove to the mall instead of the pool. It still took you nearly ten minutes to force yourself out of your car.

You had thought seeing Steve and Robin in their sailor uniforms had been strange, but there was a far stranger sight directly ahead of you: Robin at the counter, staring in absolute confusion, and Steve jumping with joy at the sight of the small child in the front of the store.

"Henderson!" Steve's smile was huge. The sight made you smile, albeit a bit more confused. "Henderson! He's back, he's back!"

"I'm back! You got the job!"

"I got the job!"

And then, just when you thought this strange scene could not get any weirder, Steve mimed playing a trumpet and both he and the child did a strange miming handshake, giggling all the while.

Robin leaned forward. "How many children are you friends with?"

Steve's overjoyed smile slipped from his face. He gestured to Robin with a strained look on his face, as if he were signaling See what I have to deal with?

"You mean there's more children?" you asked, walking up to them with a shy smile, almost embarrassed to make your return. Your stomach dipped as Steve turned to you, but his smile was back.

"Hey, you're back!" Steve said. "I thought we'd never see you again!"

You shrugged. "Yeah, well, I got tired of Billy flirting with me."

"Max's brother?" the child asked.

You stared at him. "I don't know who that is. Or who you are, actually."

"Oh, I'm—"

"This is Dustin," Steve interrupted. "Dustin Henderson. He's, uh, he's one of my friends." He went behind the counter and started making an ice cream sundae.

You gave Dustin your name and offered him your hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"How do you know Steve?" Dustin asked.

At the same time, both you and Steve pointed to Robin. She waggled her fingers at him.

"I'm going on break," Steve said, handing the sundae to Dustin. "Your turn to man the counter. Come on, Dustin, my treat!"

The two of them slipped into a booth. You leaned against the countertop with a heavy sigh.

"There's like...five or six of them," Robin said. "Kids, I mean. That he's friends with."

"Jesus," you muttered. "How old are these kids?"

"Like...thirteen, maybe?"

"Oh, boy."

Robin giggled. "Looks like you gotta share your man with children now."

You choked. "He's— He's not my man, Robin!" you hissed, your entire body burning. You glanced at Steve, but he was too engrossed in whatever story Dustin was telling him.

"But that's why you're here, isn't it?" Robin asked. "You came back because you're ready to talk to him again, knowing that you like him and he likes you."

You glanced over at Steve. While you observed him, Robin slipped out from behind the counter, quietly humming to herself as she worked.

"Yeah, I mean, sure," he was saying to Dustin. "It's not really a good idea for me though, gotta keep in shape for the ladies." Was it just your imagination, or did his eye stray over toward you?

"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" Robin teased.

"Ignore her," Steve said quickly.

"She seems cool," Dustin said.

"She's not," Steve said, even quicker. "But, uh, the girl you just met? She's cool. She's really cool." A smile tugged at your lips. You pushed it away as you looked down at the floor, completely missing Steve's lovestruck glance toward you.

Dustin, however, missed nothing, and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really, Steve?"

Steve cleared his throat. "Anyway. So, uh, where are the other knuckleheads?"

"They ditched me yesterday," Dustin said.

"No," Steve said, his face falling. Your heart squeezed at the sight of his empathy. The Steve from high school never would have cared about a kid whose friends had abandoned him, but this Steve did.

"My first day back! Can you believe that shit?"

"Whoa, seriously?!" Steve demanded, incredulous. Your heart warmed once again.

You turned back to Robin. "In answer to your earlier question," you said under your breath, "yes, that is exactly what I'm here to do."

She giggled. "I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" She paused. "Was Billy Hargrove really flirting with you?"

You nodded. "I guess he doesn't really care about high school social status, as long as he gets laid." You shuddered. "I've never felt more objectified in my life, and I pranced around on stage in fishnets and a bodysuit in front of the entire school last year during Chicago!"

"I'm still convinced that was our best show," Robin said.

"I'd like to know how we got the rights to it," you snorted.

"I'd like to know how we convinced Principal Higgins to let us perform it."

You snorted. "Yeah. Has anybody heard anything about next year's shows?"

"Nothing yet," Robin said.

You harrumphed, your gaze sliding back to Steve and Dustin and found them talking in hushed tones. Steve's face was fixed into an expression of embarrassed confusion.

"Oh, got customers, hang on," Robin said, and served them while you moved off to the side, watching Dustin speak behind his hand. Steve just blinked at him and told him to speak up.

"I intercepted a secret Russian communication!" Dustin said, far too loudly.

The entire store went quiet. You and Robin exchanged a glance.

"Jesus, shhhh!" Steve hissed. "Yeah, okay, that's what I thought you said."

Business as normal resumed and Robin's customers headed for their own table.

You cleared your throat. "Well, I guess I should head out—"

"No, no, no, wait! What about Steve?"

"He's busy, Robs," you said, gesturing to him. Your stomach did flips at the cute, teasing little expression on his pretty face as you caught him saying American heroes. You weren't sure you wanted to know what mischief they were getting into. "I'll just...come back tomorrow."

Robin sighed. "Fine. As long as you let me play matchmaker!"

You rolled your eyes. "You've been doing that for the past, what, four years?"

"Yeah, but this time I might actually be successful!"

You shook your head with a smile. "Catch you later, Robin. Bye, Steve!" you added as you walked past.

Steve's head snapped up. He scrambled up from his seat at the booth. "Hey, wait, wait, where are you going?" He caught your arm and your eyes darted to his fingers on you. Every possible excuse was wiped from your head. "I thought you were gonna stay and...hang out for a little while."

You smiled apologetically. "Yeah, I was going to, but your friend just came back, so I figured I'd just come back another time. So you don't have to...divide your already divided attention, y'know?" You gestured back to the counter.

Though there was understanding in Steve's eyes, he still looked disappointed. "Oh...um... Would you—" He cleared his throat, his cheeks gaining a deep pink shade. "Would you maybe wanna hang out together—" He stopped again. "Would you wanna go on a date? With me? Sometime?"

You couldn't stop the smile that stretched across your face. "When?"

"Oh, you know, whenever you want? If you want to, I mean."

You stopped his rambling with a finger against his lips. His eyes widened. "I want to, Steve. I really, really want to. I always have."

He beamed. "Really?"

"Really," you promised. You patted his chest. "Even in this stupid little uniform."

He laughed. "What do you say to...two days from now? Meet me here at the end of my shift so Robin can make fun of us like always—" You laughed with him. "—and then we can go see a movie?" His thumb caressed the skin of your arm. That single touch alone sent butterflies through your stomach, not to mention the beautiful, sappy look in his eyes.

"I'd like that," you said. "I'd like that a lot."

"And, um, if you'd like, there's a little dinner about ten minutes from here with awesome milkshakes we could go to after."

You beamed. "Oh, Steve."

"Yeah?"

"You're absolutely perfect," you said to him, cupping his cheek and smoothing your fingers over his skin. He hummed happily. "Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I... Do you... Can we kiss? I know it's soon, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time."

Steve beamed. He leaned in, cupping the back of your head and pulling you into him. His lips touched yours, and you swore your body crackled with electricity. A feeling similar to pins and needles, but far more pleasant, spread throughout you.

He made to pull away. You brought both your hands to his cheeks and held him to you, kissing him for all you were worth.

In the booth, Dustin's mouth dropped open. A grin spread across his face.

At the counter, Robin, who couldn't see the kiss but saw your hands slide into Steve's hair, pulled out her whiteboard and added a singular tally into the 'You Rule' column.

She glanced back at you and Steve. Steve had broken the kiss to tug you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You twisted your hand into his hair, smiling over his shoulder, your eyes closed against the rest of the world.

Robin grinned; she guessed the 'You Suck' tallies didn't matter anymore. Steve had found the one his charm worked on.

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2 coming soon!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

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justsomerandomfanfic · 5 months

Text

The Deep End - Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Title: The Deep End

Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother (Mentioned), Billy's dad (Mentioned), Billy's mom (Briefly Mentioned), Will (Mentioned) Jonathan (Mentioned), the people of Hawkins (Mentioned), and Heather

WC: 4,670

Warnings: Pretending the Mind Flayer didn't possess Billy, Reader can't swim, Reader has anxiety, Reader is terrible at interacting with others mentioned, gossipping, sort of enemies to lovers mentioned, a bit of suggestion, a lot of italics, mention of abuse, mention of injuries, Reader is mentioned wearing a bathing suit (not specifically a bikini or one-piece, etc.), cursing, teasing, flirting, yelling, drowning, mention of panic attacks, Billy's feeling a bit guilty, slight angst, and fluff

It was hot. The summer sun was beating down on Hawkins, Indiana with no mercy. Sweltering rays of heat warmed every surface, from the sidewalk, the road, to the metal slides on playgrounds. There was no escaping this heat, nor the sun. Even with air conditioners on full force, sweat seemed to trickle down the nape of your neck, staining your thin shirt.

Fanning yourself with a homemade paper fan, you slouched on the couch, hardly being able to pay attention to the TV that was playing some reruns of I Love Lucy.

It was hot. And you were absolutely done with it.

There was only one place, in all of Hawkins, that you could go to that would and could help with the summer heat. One place that you hated going to. The mere thought of it filled you with dread.

Hawkins pool. A mile or two from your house. Near the middle and high school. It was usually full of people during the summer, either sunbathing in lounging chairs or splashing in the chlorine pool. To anyone else, it was paradise in the very - crappy - small town.

To you, it was hell. Screaming children, the chance of being splashed with cold water, older women ogling at young lifeguards, and just… A lot of people in general.

You had only been there a handful of times, either with family or friends. In reality, if you had the chance, you wouldn't have gone in the first place. Every time you went, it felt like all of Hawkins was there. Too many people. You hated it.

You weren't the most… Social of people. Which was kind of odd for the town of Hawkins. For example, some people thought you were weird. Like they thought Will and Jonathan Byers were weird. And people talked, they all hung out, they gossipped, partied, had potlucks, or barbecues in their backyards.

You tried to get out of those situations, if you were ever invited to them, which wasn't very often thankfully. You weren't very good at communicating or having conversations that didn't just end with you subconsciously ending it for yourself and the other person.

Even in school, you were pretty shy and introverted. You had hardly any friends, you only went to the book club - since it was quiet and you could read in peace - and you sat by yourself at lunch. And you enjoyed it. But now and then you would feel a little bit jealous. Seeing people chatting along with their friends, laughing and having fun. But it came to a point that you would rather focus on your studying or homework rather than pushing past your boundaries and trying to make friends. Too much of a hassle, you thought.

So when Billy, the new kid in town, came to Hawkins, you never, in your wildest dreams, thought that he would ever notice you, or talk to you, or anything.

He was a popular guy, talkative, a ladies man, and a bad boy. He had friends, he had all the girls fawning over him, and he loved it. The attention, having such a reputation. He was so… Different from you.

So when he walked up to you at lunch, sat down in front of you, you could hardly believe what was happening. Why? Was the one word that circled in your mind. Why?

It couldn't have been for any good reason, could it? Like with everyone else, he wanted something or needed something out of this interaction. You even let the thought of him just wanting to get in your pants pop up, but you brushed it off.

He did want something. And of course… He wanted you to help him with his homework. But not help him, he just wanted you to do it for him. Yay. For some reason, he thought since you were always reading all the time, that you would be smart enough to just do his work, but dumb enough to fall for his charm.

Let's just say… That didn't work.

You were smart - intelligent - Intuitive. You always had good grades and always made sure to keep them that way. You studied hard and enjoyed reading; whether from a book given to you for a lesson or from your shelf at home. You enjoyed school, since it busied your mind and gave you something to do.

But that didn't mean that you were going to go so low as to just do his homework for him. It was his work to do, he could do it himself.

And when telling him that, you expected him to roll his eyes, scoff maybe, and find some other smart and defenseless person to trick, and to never bother you again… Good riddance. But he didn't. He grinned.

Oh, he kept coming back. Again, and again, and again. He just wouldn't let up. The first couple of times, he tried to convince you to do his work for him; he said that he just didn't have the time, or that he was going out for that night. As if he thought that was going to help him in this situation.

And after a while, of either ignoring or telling him you'd be late for class and walking away, he switched on you.

Instead of asking for help, he went as far as to ask you out.

Really?

You turned him down, every time. No, you didn't want to go to the diner after school for a milkshake. No, you didn't want to go see that new movie at the drive thru. No, you did not want to go to a party with him. Who did this guy think he was?

It was irritating, everyday you would become paranoid from just the idea of Billy walking over to you at lunch, popping up beside you at your locker, or trying to talk to you during the two classes you shared with him. You had already gotten in trouble once.

At the four month mark, though, Billy stopped trying to get you to go out with him, and started trying to get to know you? Or that was just what it seemed to be what he was doing. It was hard to tell, he was just so confusing, and irritating, and cute… God…

You hated him. So it became sort of a surprise to you when you and Billy started dating.

And it wasn't just because Billy wanted to get in your pants or just check you off on his list as another person he's dated. To Billy, you weren't some prize to be won. You weren't someone to trick and fool with charming grins and flirtatious remarks.

You had your doubts in the beginning, but Billy proved himself and showed you that behind the facade of aggression and bad boy reputation, he was just highly misunderstood. His past and current trauma that he was suffering from at the hands of his father made him the hating and reckless person he was. But, deep down, he was hurting.

~~~

You never thought that, while watching a movie at your house, that Billy would rip off the bandaid and just tell you. And that was long before you had asked him where he had gotten the black eye from an hour before.

"It was my dad," His words rang out, seemingly echoing throughout your room; lingering.

The air was thick, as you swallowed, looking up at Billy who sat beside you, he stared at the TV screen. Your eyes flickered, noticing how soft and sad his blue eyes were, in such contrast to his hardened expression.

"Billy…" You muttered, your heart breaking for him, your hand reaching out to curl around his arm.

Billy's jaw clenched, as did his fists, his knuckles turning white. "He has been since I was a kid." His voice was thick with emotion, though he tried to control it; still staring at the screen. You felt your eyes sting, biting your bottom lip so as to not let it tremble. "He's the reason my-" He couldn't finish, snapping his gaze from the TV and standing.

Abruptly, he moved off the bed, clenched fists at his side as he faced away from you. You slid off the bed as well, but you did nothing more, in fear that if you got too close that Billy would close back up and or leave.

"Billy, you don't have to continue." You spoke softly, watching as Billy only shook his head.

"I hate him." He muttered, his voice matching your own. You took your chance to walk closer, going around his side to stand in front of him.

His expression broke you. That charming smile, mischievous glint in his eyes, it was all gone. In its place, was a broken young man, who just wanted to love and to be loved.

Reaching out, you cupped his cheek, Billy's eyes closing before you dropped your hand to instead circle your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Billy slowly did the same, his arms wrapping tightly around you, his hands resting on your back; fingers gripping your sweater with a death grip.

He dug his face into your neck, letting out a shaky breath. It didn't take long until you felt his tears seeping into the soft fabric of your sweater, which only made you hold him tighter.

The world was so cruel to him.

~~~

People still didn't believe that you and Billy were an item, more so at school. It annoyed you, but you ignored it, like you did with most things at school. Billy seemed to pay it no mind whatsoever.

He'd go about his day like nothing happened. His arm looped over your shoulders as he walked you to class, lunch, to his car. He'd still do everything like he had before, minus flirting with others. He ignored every flutter of eyelashes and moved away from every suggestive arm caress. To some people, it seemed Billy was slowly changing to be a one gal guy. And people would look, stare, gossip. And that was the worst part, the gossip.

"Oh, they won't last more than a month."

"A week tops! I heard that she's paying him to pretend to be her boyfriend."

"I don't know why Billy is wasting his time. He should be with me."

But all that didn't matter. What mattered was you and Billy.

And you missed him. While you were stuck at home, dying of heat stroke, and Billy was at the pool, dying of heat stroke… Really, you could've been dying together.

But no, he had to work. In the one place that you hated going to. The one place that you swore you'd never walk into voluntarily. Until today, right now.

Letting out a groan, you stood up, your skin sticking a bit to the couch as you did so. Trudging through the house, you continued to fan yourself as you climbed up the stairs and headed up to your room.

Digging through your closet, you pulled out a small cardboard box. Rifling through it, you pulled out your old bathing suit. Lifting it up, you tilted your head before nodding; it should still fit.

Grabbing your canvas tote bag, you stuffed your suit, and whatever else you needed into it before you left.

The drive was nothing more than relaxing. You turned the cold air all the way up, but you wished that the drive was longer.

Your nerves had begun to overwhelm you once you parked. Looking out your driver's side window, you could already hear the screaming of children. It was going to be a nightmare… But less so since Billy was there.

Letting out a breath, you pushed the door open, instantly hissing at the hot rays of the sun that were hitting you. Blinking your eyes, you begrudgingly shut your car door and walked over to the open gate.

Immediately, you felt tense. Feeling people's eyes upon you, even when they weren't even looking. The prickling on the back of your neck sent a chill down your spine. Swallowing thickly, you stepped in further, your eyes quickly finding Billy sitting on the lifeguard tower.

You felt a breath leave you as you walked over, stopping to stand beside the tower. And though your nerves had died down somewhat from just being near Billy, the pool in front of you did not help.

Looking up, you observed Billy. How he sort of slouched in his chair, legs spread, eyes surveying the pool goers, absentmindedly biting on the tip of his pool whistle. The sun beating down on him, a stern look on his face. It made you smile lightly, almost forgetting that you were even in Hawkins pool. Who gave him permission to be so God damn stunning?

"Hey… B." You spoke up, quickly gaining the attention of the dirty blonde.

He whipped his head around and down, his serious expression slipping away into a grin once he saw you. "Hey there, gorgeous." He greeted you before climbing down the lifeguard tower ladder. "What are you doing here? I thought you hated the pool." He continued once he was standing before you, giving you a slow once-over, chewing on some gum.

You shrugged, "I missed you." Glancing around, you pivoted your weight from one foot to the other before looking back over at him. "... Aren't you supposed to be up in the tower, watching people?" You asked as you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile slowly crawling on your face.

Billy only shook his head, his grin widening as he glanced around the pool, "I can watch them all perfectly fine from right here." He spoke, looking back at you before gesturing to your bag. "You swimming?"

Smile faltered slightly, you shook your head. "I won't swim, but I'll definitely stand in it. It's so hot out." You glanced at the sky briefly, squinting, "Too hot."

Billy hummed, and again, you didn't miss the way his eyes raked over you. "Well, I'll watch out for you. Give you mouth to mouth if something bad happens."

Letting out a small laugh, you shook your head, "Yeah, sure, okay."

"Seriously," Billy answered, pointing a finger at you, a hardly stern look on his face, "Be safe."

You wanted to say that you'd be fine, it was just a pool after all, but you knew better. You'd make sure that you weren't close to the deep end, you knew that there was a steep decline into the deep water… And well, not knowing how to swim would probably be a problem at that point.

But you only nodded, your smile softening, "I promise. I'll be fine."

Turning around, you headed off to the changing rooms, but right before you could take your first step, you felt Billy take your hand; tugging you back around to face him.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Billy didn't give you a chance. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, physically melting as you let out a sigh.

You felt dazed when he pulled back, a teasing grin on his face as he looked down at you. "See you in a minute, sunshine." He spoke, and you nodded; almost floating as you walked off to the changing rooms, hardly noticing some of the neighborhood mother's glares.

You were on cloud nine, your mind completely glossing over you putting on your bathing suit until you stepped back out. You fell right down at the overwhelming sight of all the people.

Did they multiply when you were in there?

Letting out a breath, you walked over to the steps of the pool, carefully stepping in, you were immediately greeted with the sweet chill of the water. Pushing away from the railing, you swerved past a couple of kids, mothers with their younger children and toddlers before finding yourself in the section of the pool where you felt the safest - the water hitting just below your chest.

Looking up, your eyes met Billy's stare. At you spotting him on his perch, he let a small smirk find its way on his face; winking. You didn't even realize that you were smiling, shyly looking away and just chilling near the edge of the pool, back pressed to the concrete.

It hadn't even been more than ten minutes when a few kids were splashing around near you, pushing each other by the shoulders into the water, only to pop up; their laughter merging with the already loud atmosphere.

To get away from them, you slid to the side a few steps, wiping away the bits of water that managed to land on your face from their havoc. Though refreshing, it was a tad bit annoying.

A sharp whistle rang out through the air, grabbing your attention and everyone else’s, “Hey, gasbags!” Billy yelled out at the kids that were rough-housing near you; they looked up at him in what seemed to be fear, “Don’t make me ban you from the pool!”

After that, you had grown less anxious by a considerable amount. You would feel your heart rate accelerate when someone got too close or when you accidentally made eye contact with someone as you were surveying the pool - awkward. But, for the most part, you were enjoying yourself, to the extent that you were in the perfect spot to casually look up and see Billy only feet away.

You only snapped your gaze away from your boyfriend when you felt something bump into you. You stumbled slightly to the side before fumbling backward. Your eyes widened as you felt yourself falling backwards, arms flailing, your feet dropping past the cliff in the pool.

You crashed to the water, slowly sinking to the bottom. Your mind had frozen, totally out of control as everything muffled around you. Your eyes were screwed shut, your mouth closed with the little bit of air you were able to gulp down in the process of falling.

At the tightening of your chest, your eyes flew open, panic settling in. You tried to look around, the chlorine burning your eyes as you watched peoples' legs kick around in the water; like from a scene in Jaws.

Trying to propel yourself up with your arms, you finally reached the bottom. Thrashing your arms, you pushed off the bottom of the pool with your legs, trying to reach up to break the surface, but it seemed so far away. When really, if you only had a bit more time, one last push would've made you break the surface.

You felt tired, your chest burning as were your lungs and throat. Your eyes drooped, and suddenly, you inhaled. You felt like you were drowning. You were drowning. As the water filled your lungs, you watched with blurry vision as bubbles floated up to the dimming surface above.

Your ringing ears slowly faded, your vision with it. And for some odd reason… You felt at peace.

With the little bit of consciousness that you had left, you felt something grab you and pull you up. What felt like hours, had only been a minute.

Suddenly, your eyes opened, and you turned on your side as pool water expelled from your mouth with force. You coughed, chest heaving as you choked on the remaining water in your mouth; the taste was foul.

You felt a hand on your back - rubbing soothing circles - a voice speaking to you, or trying to. It was hard to make out what they were saying. Slowly, you were moved back to your back, your droopy eyes blinked heavily as you stared up at the person over you.

Slowly but surely, your vision got better, allowing you to see a very distressed Billy. His mouth was moving, talking to you, no… Yelling. But your mind couldn't process it. What was he saying?

He lightly tapped your cheek with his palm, just as your hearing began to return, you suddenly felt really tired and your throat burned. Little droplets fell from his wet curls, landing on your neck and cheeks.

"Y/N, can you hear me now?" He asked, and you nodded slowly. You watched as he let out a big sigh, taking you in his arms and helping you sit up. His warm hands, wet with the same pool water brushed over your face, pushing back your wet hair. His blue eyes, hurriedly and worriedly, checked over you swiftly for any sign of cuts, bruises before checking you for a concussion; which you did not have thankfully. "You scared me for a minute." He muttered, "Do you think you can stand up?"

You opened your mouth to speak, "B…" Your throat burned, screaming out to you to stop, and so you did, just nodding instead.

"I know, I know…" Sowly, Billy helped you stand up, your hands holding onto his arms tightly. His hands gripped your waist and lower back, just in case he would have to catch you. That's when you noticed everyone staring. Everyone was watching you, everything was deathly quiet. You ducked your head down, as if that would help, closing your eyes tight, you felt your chest tighten once more. Billy, being the super attentive boyfriend he was, immediately noticed your oncoming panic attack, quickly and carefully leading you to the first aid room near the pool office and changing rooms. "Take my shift, Heather." He grumbled, passing the other lifeguard.

Looking up from the office window, she watched as Billy passed with you beside him. Huffing, she stood, "You owe me." She muttered before leaving the office to take his place as the lifeguard.

Billy quickly opened the first aid room. It was bigger than a typical Janitor's closet, but small enough that it couldn't fit more than probably twenty people; if they all squished together shoulder to shoulder.

Sitting you down on a chair, you leaned back against the back of it, your head tilting to the side, your ear pressed to your shoulder. You watched as Billy pulled a large towel from a shelf, turned towards you and wrapped you in it. Rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms, Billy's eyes flickered over your face, the same distressed expression on his face. "Y/N, talk to me."

You blinked, lifting your head slightly, "I- I am never going into that pool again." You muttered, your voice still a bit rough, but getting better.

And from your response, Billy cracked a small smile, a real, fond one. "You don't ever have to. You can sunbathe. Or, hell, bring a book with you if you want."

You nodded slowly, allowing yourself to smile, "That's a good idea."

Sighing, Billy pressed his hand into your cheek before grabbing the edge of the towel and gently drying your face and then hair. "When I said that I'd love to give you mouth to mouth… I didn't mean when you were drowning." He tried to joke, but inside he was still panicking.

You did your best to do the same. You knew that if you started freaking out, then Billy would too. "I'm okay. I'm just tired." You blinked your burning eyes. "I think I want to go home." You murmured, and Billy nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get you home." Helping you stand, he then helped get your things, and grabbed his, before punching out and leaving for your car.

Buckling you in, you took his hand, "What about your car?" You had asked, but Billy shook his head.

"It'll be fine for tonight." He shut the passenger side door before hopping into the front seat. "You're more important." He muttered, and you almost didn't hear it once he turned the engine on.

The entire drive home was silent. A tense fog in the air, breathable, but anxiety-filled. You wondered if he was angry at you, which you knew was ridiculous, but the thought popped into your head anyway. But the grip he had on your thigh, tight but comfortable, brought you out of that negative headspace. Your hand carefully laid over his, your thumb brushing along his knuckles. Pressing the side of your cheek into the passenger side window, you let yourself shut your eyes.

~~~

When you next awoke, you were in your bed. Billy nowhere in sight. Blinking, you stared up at your creme ceiling, your fingers gently brushing up on your warm, blue comforter. And suddenly, you felt hot.

Kicking off the blankets, you at least kept part of the sheet near your feet, observing your yellow sleep shorts and one of Billy's shirts on you. Thank God you weren't still in that bathing suit. At this point, you wanted to burn it. Pushing your hands against your bed, you propped yourself up, scooting backward and leaning back on the headboard. Swallowing, you coughed lightly, taking a glance and noticing a small glass of water on your bedside table.

Taking it, you took small sips, allowing your mind to process what had happened. You almost drowned. Billy saved you. You are alive. You are home. You replayed those words over and over in your head, trying to tell yourself that everything was okay. You were safe.

At the light knock at your door, you looked up as it opened, Billy pausing briefly, meeting your eyes before walking in. He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at you, less worried, but with that same look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and you nodded. "Your mom said you were, her being a nurse and all."

You bit your lip briefly at the thought of Billy bringing you home and making sure you were alright with the help of your mom. "Yeah," You took his hand into yours, "I'm okay. Thanks to you."

Billy pursed his lips, eyes hardening ever so slightly as he turned his head to stare down onto his lap. He said nothing for a moment, his grip tightening in your hold slightly. "Why didn't you tell me that you couldn't swim?" He then asked, and you sighed, biting your bottom lip.

"It's embarrassing." You muttered, feeling your eyeballs sting with salty tears. "And I only went to get out of the heat. I didn't plan on going out that far, honest. I just tripped." You spoke, rushed, making Billy turn to look up at you.

"I'm not angry at you, if that's what you're thinking." He remarked, and you stopped, looking up at him. "I'm angry at myself. I should've kept my eyes on you like I said I would."

Shaking your head, you gave him a smile, "You didn't know that I can't swim. None of this is your fault." You shrugged a shoulder, “Plus, if you were watching me the entire time, you wouldn’t be protecting everyone else.”

After a few moments of silence, of gazing into each other's eyes, he spoke, "I'm giving you lessons." He gestured to the door, "Your mom, she was pissed when I told her what happened. She asked me to teach you."

Huffing, you rolled your eyes. "I never want to swim or even go near that pool again." You groaned, and Billy nodded.

"You never have to, but I'll gladly teach you only when you want to learn." He answered, earning a hesitant nod from you.

Another moment passed, "Thank you, Billy." You whispered, sniffling lightly as you looked at him.

His smile, small but genuine, sent shivers down your spine, "Don't mention it." He muttered, leaning forward to press his lips to the center of your forehead. Tracing his fingers along your cheek, you pressed your hand to his, keeping it on your cheek.

"Are you staying the night?" You alee softly, and Billy smirked, his half-lidded eyes bored into yours.

"I was planning on it." He leaned back down to brush his lips against yours. "Any movie suggestions?"

Shutting your eyes, you answered, "Anything but Jaws."