Billy "if I fits I sits" Hargrove and Steve "if you don't get your ass out of my face I'll bite it" Harrington
Steve "are you sure this is safe" Harrington and Billy "probably not" Hargrove
Steve "do I smell something burning" Harrington and Billy "your toast has been ready for ten minutes" Hargrove
Steve "study day and night" Harrington and Billy "I'll leave it up to fate" Hargrove
Billy "where do you think you're going mister" Hargrove and Steve "to the bathroom" Harrington
Steve "please brush your hair babe" Harrington and Billy "it's for the aesthetic" Hargrove
Billy "are you annoyed yet" Hargrove and Steve "I'm starting to be" Harrington
Steve "my patience is wearing thin" Harrington and Billy "like your hairline" Hargrove
Steve "why isnt the car moving" Harrington and Billy "Maybe because it's in park Steven" Hargrove
Billy "why do you put up with me" Hargrove and Steve "I've put up with a lot worse don't test me" Harrington
Billy "Ratio" Hargrove and Steve "keep math out of this" Harrington
Steve "please slow down we're going to be late" Harrington and Billy "do you hear yourself" Hargrove
Steve "have you looked in the mirror" Harrington and Billy "have you?" Hargrove
Steve "I went to the bakery" Harrington and Billy "do I not have enough cake for you" Hargrove
Steve "I love you unconditionally" Harrington and Billy "how dare you say that" Hargrove
Steve "are you okay" Harrington and Billy "am I ever okay" Hargrove
Billy "what were you thinking" Hargrove and Steve "nothing" Harrington (works both ways hehe)
Steve "you could've died" Harrington and Billy "but I didn't" Hargrove
Billy "how can you love me" Hargrove and Steve "how can I not" Harrington
Billy "are you really wearing that outfit in public" Hargrove and Steve "if it embarrasses you yes" Harrington
Billy "please don't fall in love with me" Hargrove and Steve "too late" Harrington
Steve "do you think this is funny" Harrington and Billy "oh you're not laughing" Hargrove
Billy "pay attention to me" Hargrove and Steve "dude don't make me get a restraining order" Harrington
Steve "I don't smell" Harrington and Billy "allow me to bring you back to earth" Hargrove
Steve "I'm stupid" Harrington and Billy "that's okay, I'll just out stupid you" Hargrove
Billy "I'm an asshole" Hargrove and Steve "why do you think I like you so much" Harrington
Steve "why are you laughing" Harrington and Billy "why aren't you laughing" Hargrove
Billy "giggles at funerals" Hargrove, Eddie "places bets on who's going to sing at the altar" Munson and Steve "God isn't real but the devil is" Harrington
Steve "sit up straight" Harrington and Billy "i literally can't" Hargrove +(Bonus- Robin "and on Pride Month" Buckley)
Billy "I'm very disappointed in you" Hargrove and Steve "is it because I'm bi" Harrington
*****
Tags: (always room for more 🥰🤡)
@ouizzyharringrove
@harringroveho
@hephaestn
@emeraldwitches
@shipworm
@whoringrove
@polaris-ursae
@geormenia
@spaceboxkitty
@thatawkwardlittlefangirl
@wixterirox
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the stitches and the devouring mouth
[ao3 link]
Tommy was the first person to call him Stevie like he was something pretty. Tommy only knows this because it slipped out, dangerous, a hot blush, something like a confession: “Stevie’s kinda girly, don’t you think?”
And Tommy, too nonchlant, too fucking young, too disconnected, not yet precise, looked at Stevie boy unafraid and said: “Why’s it girly? ‘Cause it’s cute?”
Loaded question. Unspoken: Does that make me cute?
But that was the first time he’d let it slip out. Knowing Steve Harrington was one steep drop. One foot over the edge and he dragged you down, down, deep into the molten core of the earth, too hot to breathe, too fast to care.
It didn’t help that Steve was always the good one. He existed outside of this town, belonged out there. Tommy was the same piece of shit his father was, and his grandfather before him, and greats and greats. Tommy Hagan came from a long line of bastards who got drunk on making people stay and making them worse. He was going to live in this miserable town until he died miserably, but Steve--
Steve was born into a miserable family in a miserable house and no one ever taught him how to give a shit about anything, but he did anyway. That’s the fucked up part about it. Steve didn’t know how to love, but he was built with so much of it that it glowed around him, poured off him in waves. The only person he could give it to was Tommy, not knowing that Tommy would hand it right back tenfold, too young to realize he was giving away the only thing he’d ever get from him.
They were little kids, and they dreamed about getting out of this town, but Tommy was going to fucking die there, and he’d run Steve out, kicking and screaming, strapped to the privilege he’d always been too lonely to notice he had.
Tommy always wanted to push him out like that. Always knew the day would come.
It almost did right before junior year, sweltering hot, sitting in their boxers and smoking weed next to the back gate of Steve’s house. Close enough to the woods that they could blame it on freak delinquents if his father came home. The grass was cool and the other grass was hot and his mind played sick little tricks on him for hours.
Tricks like:
Steve looked at Tommy like he was something special. Like he was good. Like he could leave one day too. Like maybe at some point, after graduation, after waving goodbye to this hellhole they call a town, they could–
He didn’t know. He’d never gotten that far. But it would be the two of them. And neither of them would be their fucking dads. And neither one of them would have to be lonely ever again.
Steve talked to Tommy like he was better than he actually was. Like his eyes were rose-tinted and for some reason he looked at Tommy, even though he was a piece of shit.
What’s a piece of shit that knows it and doesn’t do anything to be better? Would it be worse not to know? Was it worse that he wanted to be worse?
Steve stared at Tommy for a long time, or maybe just for a second, because it turns out being high made those kinds of distinctions hard, and Tommy said “Stevie,” again, like he could have said more if he tried. Like his mouth was ready to wrap around other words before he knew what they were going to be.
He was interrupted before they came out, though, by the grace of God, by Steve’s blush and his chuckle, voice deeper than Tommy’s, more masculine, nicer. “You always call me that.”
“Yeah, I do,” Tommy watched Steve’s mouth.
“Why?”
“Don’t you think it’s cute?”
“I guess–”
“It suits you,” Tommy said. Tame.
And Steve, bless him, gave him an out. He smiled again, his winningest one, and asked: “so you think I’m cute?”
Like it was a joke. Like it was funny.
Tommy laughed, reached out, straight for his cheek, to pinch it like a baby, and Steve reached back, pulled them together, to kiss him like a girl.
Except they were both in their boxers, sweltering hot, high out of their minds, and Tommy wasn’t a girl. And Tommy closed his eyes and tried to find Carol in front of him, that bitch from economics that he flirted with because it pissed Steve off, because it made him laugh, because. Something.
But Steve wasn’t a girl, either. He kissed the absolute breath from him exactly like a boy would. And their sweaty legs slid against each other and the joint was put out by the dew and the sweat on the grass and Tommy pulled back to breathe and Steve pulled back whole, wild and scared, a wounded deer. Doe eyes and all.
They were both high, and Tommy was dizzy with everything, and Tommy was a dick, just as a person, and Steve was better than him. He had more control than he did. Tommy didn’t know what he would have done next.
But he thought, maybe, despite his dad and his grandfather and all of their greats, that he would be at least something different. Break the fucking cycle.
Steve blinked, eyes flickered with something Tommy’s never cared enough to read. “You should probably go home,” he said, voice level. “First day tomorrow. We should sleep this off.”
Tommy’s never been the brightest. He thought Steve meant the high.
Because the next day, Steve picked him up for school, and they didn’t talk about it but Tommy didn’t know what he’d say if he did. He’s never been the brightest, but he’s seen the headlines. He’s heard his mom call things like this perverted.
Didn’t keep something inside him from shattering when Steve ditched him for a date with Amy Prince. When Steve made out with Laurie Fisher in Mrs. Douglas’ during lunch. When Steve pressed Becky Jefferson against his locker and stuck his tongue down her throat. Hope, maybe, that’s what shattered.
And Tommy wasn’t a good person. He asked Carol out for real this time, and she said yes because they’re the exact kind of losers at the top of the food chain to get married to each other and live in the same shitty town they were born in, and he did it because he hoped it would piss Steve off.
Turns out, Carol wasn’t really a bitch. Not more than Tommy was. That doesn’t mean much, though. She gave head like a champ and she let Tommy cover her mouth when they fucked so he could tune her out.
It was kind of funny, kissing her, because it was the exact opposite of kissing Steve: back then, he was desperate to find her when he closed his eyes. Now, though, Steve comes to him without even trying. Kind of funny how that happened. Kind of sick.
But that wasn’t when the push happened. It wasn’t until Nancy Wheeler.
Until Steve fucked her two doors down, and if Tommy really listened he could pretend Carol and Nancy weren’t there at all. Like it was back when they were freshmen jacking off quietly in sleepovers and pretending they couldn’t hear.
It wasn’t until Steve fell head over heels for her.
Until Steve blinked and Tommy saw it. The revelation he was waiting for the whole time: he’s better than this. Better than Tommy. This girl could make him happy, if she wanted him to. It would be up to her. And he would want it that way. And Tommy was never going to be that.
Because Tommy is a prick. He’s mean-spirited. He’s exactly like his dad. He’s built to take a girl and have her until she’s too apathetic to bother with divorce. Steve realized he was a piece of shit and Tommy made the wrong decision on purpose: he was going to push Steve out of there, and he was going to let himself be miserable forever, and he would drag Carol through it, because maybe love is mutually assured destruction and it was never going to be playing house with the King of Hawkins. He wouldn’t even know how.
Steve wanted something special. Something real. Something Tommy could never give him. Something he wanted from Nancy, who didn’t even fucking want it. Something he only realized he was missing when he met her.
The push came when Steve was broken and bloodied up, right when Tommy thought maybe they’d go back to normal, maybe Steve really was as bad as him. Like he was already crawling back, rocks in his hands, blood in his mouth. Tommy thought maybe Steve would let him patch it up, lick his wounds. He could give Steve what Nancy couldn’t. Or, at least, he could give what Nancy did. He’d fuck it up with Carol. He didn’t care.
When Steve snapped and Tommy had two hands on him, that was the decision. Push or pull.
Steve looked down at his mouth. Once. Twice.
Another look in his eye. Tommy never cared to learn what those meant. He let go. Steve turned. Tommy pushed.
“Here, let me get that for you, buddy.” Tommy pushed. Steve fell back. Tommy slammed the door. He pushed harder.
“That’s right,” he yelled after him, desperate and angry and vengeful, he pushed, “run away, Stevie boy!”
Ugly. Tommy destroyed that too. The first person to say it like it was something beautiful. The first person to say it like a curse. Tommy figured he’d take any of Steve’s firsts he could get. Clutch his hands around those firsts until they suffocated there, ruin Steve for everyone else. He would build him up and he would break him. Tommy would get worse and he’d love it. He would tear himself in half and he’d swallow himself whole. He was going to fucking die here and there would be nothing left that Steve Harrington to turn back to. As if that were ever an option.
“Run away, just like you always do!”
Carol asked him later what the fuck he meant by that. He didn’t give her an answer.
Maybe he was pissed that Steve didn’t push back. That he wasn’t willing to be miserable forever in this miserable town. He wasn’t willing to die here, to rot like something terrible, rot like Tommy already has been rotting.
Maybe he should have started being a better person. He didn’t do that, either.
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steve would purposely give his kids little plushies so when he comes to visit their house he fixes the bed while all of them are downstairs with the little plushie centered and snug under the blanket
oh my god. yeah. like it doesn't matter that they're literally 15, he doesn't care. eleven saw one once and was eyeing it in the store, and so he bought one for her secretly and gave it to her, and she insisted that everyone get them so that they can all match and no one – i mean no one – is capable of telling el no, so he just nods and tells her that he'll go back to the store that he got hers at and will buy different ones for everyone.
he gives them out to all of them and el's face is brigt and happy, she loves that they're all matching. she shoots steve the biggest smile ever and he feels really proud of himself until he sees the confused and almost hysterical faces of the rest of the kids. (minus will. sweatheart will loves his little plushie.) they start making teasing remarks – "woah, momma steve strikes again," "dude, did you really just buy a bunch of teenages stuffed animals?" etc – and el makes sure to say that it was partially her idea – "for the party," she insists – and then everyone immediately accepts it and is like.. you know what? yeah. and they all promise el and steve that they'll keep them in their beds at night.
steve definitely comes to each of their houses, checking in on them, just hanging out, or to pick them up and drive them somewhere, and if he evr finds their rooms he usually has an internal crisis because god are his kids messy. he knows they won't clean them, and he doesn't want their actual mothers to end up doing it, so he usually picks up what he can if he has time. putting away toys, making beds, and that's always when he finds the plushies strewn in blankets and he smiles, because they did keep their promises.
here are what i think he would get everyone, because of course i have to add images!!
el: this sheep!
max: this dog!
will: this deer!
lucas: this dog!
mike: this wolf!
dustin: this monkey!
okay so this post is VERYY long so i put a read more thing.. i got carried away by aimi's excellence in steve studies once again
plus i know some people might think it's weird because they're literally 15 but el deserves a good plushie. you KNOW she's never had one. screw it, all the kids could use a good plushie. everyone deserves a good plushie
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