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thewulf · 3 months

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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.9k +

T/W : Self-doubt

October 9th, 2014

Hi There Y/N,

I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.

What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.

Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.

Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?

I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!

Jake Seresin

November 23rd ,2014

Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,

I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.

I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?

What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.

To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.

I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.

Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.

I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.

Thanks for the smiles after a long week!

Your New Friend,

Y/N Y/L/N

February 16th, 2015

Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,

That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.

Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.

I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.

What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!

With Love,

Jake

March 13th, 2015

Mr. Seresin,

I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.

I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.

My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.

I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.

I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.

With the Same Love,

Y/N

(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)

It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.

You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.

No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).

You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.

I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.

The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.

On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.

Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.

He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.

The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.

Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.

It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.

Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.

It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.

He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.

“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”

He turned his head to the side just slightly, “You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.

“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.

He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.

“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.

You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”

Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it. He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.

He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”

He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.

“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.

You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.

“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.

You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.

You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.

“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.

Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”

Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.

You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”

He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”

You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.

He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.

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luminnara · 2 years

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People Are Strange | Billy Hargrove x The Lost Boys x reader Part One

Tags: @smenny @oceansrose2002 @elegantplaidpsychicsludge-blog @henhouse-horrors

(This is set in like 1985, so pre-Michael for the boys)

Part Two

Warnings: mentions of abuse, homophobia, f slur

Finally.

Billy Hargrove was back in California.

It had been a long ass fucking drive, but he had done it, all by himself. He was free now, free of Susan, free of Neil, free of Hawkins, Indiana and every stupid shithead in that poor excuse for a town.

He had made it.

He was broke. He needed a bite to eat. But he had made it, all the way to the beach, even, and that was good enough for him. Now, his father wasn’t around to tell him what he could and couldn’t do, or call him a pussy, or beat the shit out of him. Now, there was no stupid shitty mindflayer or whatever they called it to possess him and then rip his guts out. Now, Billy was in charge of himself, and he was about to exercise that freedom to the fullest extent by getting shitfaced every night if he wanted to.

And he had picked the perfect town for it.

Back when he lived in California, the first time, he had never visited Santa Carla. It was further north than the suburb he grew up in, but he had heard plenty about it and its nasty reputation.

Murder capital of the world.

He figured he could handle that, after everything that had happened back in Hawkins. All Santa Carla had were gangs, and that was nothing compared to the monster that had torn through his mind back in Indiana.

Despite the nickname, it was a cute place. It was a picturesque tourist town situated right on Monterey Bay, with an amusement park out on the pier, a boardwalk full of shops, and a never ending stream of vagrants and runaways always coming and going. Billy didn’t really consider himself among their ranks, but he had a feeling that he would fit right in.

He hadn’t realized exactly how well, though.

The Camaro rumbled as he cruised through town, looking for a spot to get some food and maybe a shitty motel for the night. He wasn’t above sleeping in his car, but he had just done that the entire drive over, and he could really, really go for a real bed.

Food first, though.

He ended up at a diner, the sort of place where he could get a booth to himself and eat a greasy burger in peace. On the drive in, he had seen all sorts of weirdos—burn outs, punks, starving kids digging through the trash—and as fascinating as it all was, he was too exhausted from his journey to want to be surrounded by people just yet.

The diner was slow, the lunch rush having already passed. There were a few people sitting at the counter and a few more in booths, but it was quiet. Billy was enjoying the sound of the radio when someone approached him, and he glanced up to see a waitress standing there with a coffee pot in her hand. She was tired, nearly tripping over herself as she refilled his mug, and as she stood there and zoned out for a moment like a total fucking weirdo, he got the chance to check her out.

To check you out.

“H-Hey, sorry,” you said, sounding dazed.

“Long night?” The handsome guy in front of you asked, flashing you a smile that rivaled even Paul’s most heart-melting grins.

You were so deliriously tired that for a moment, you thought he was one of your boys. In your defense, he totally looked the part, with a curly, dirty blond mullet, a leather jacket, and an earring dangling from one ear. “…what are you doing out at this hour?”

He stared at you. “Excuse me?”

“Oh! Oh god, I’m sorry,” you snapped to attention again, but the bags under your eyes told him that it was just a matter of time before you full on collapsed onto the floor. “I’m not…used to being up during the day…working, I mean! Not used to working, not really…”

“You a night shift kinda person?” The guy asked, taking another bite of his burger.

“Yeah.” You swayed on your feet. “A night person.”

God, you wanted to go lay down. You were so fucking out of it. Being a half vampire was absolute ass, and over the past week, things had only gotten worse. You knew you had gotten yourself into this mess by insisting that you give the diner your full two weeks before you let David take you out to fully turn you, but Jesus Christ this sucked.

Heh.

Sucked.

“Can I, uh…can I get you anything else?” You asked, desperately trying to focus on him. He was cute, you decided, and you really, really wished you weren’t moments away from passing out so that you could appreciate him fully.

He eyed the way your hands were shaking. “…I’m alright, doll.”

“Wow,” you breathed. He sounded just like David with that pet name.

And then you drifted off, and Billy was left staring after you. Santa Carla was a weird place, indeed. A weird place with even weirder waitresses. Hot ones, but weird ones.

He left money on the table and bounced, moving on to the next item on his to do list: finding a place to spend the night. He had…not that much money left, having only stolen what he could out of Neil’s wallet before he ran, but it bought him a week in a semi-decent motel close to the beach, and that was good enough for him.

It wasn’t the Ritz, but it was a testament to his newfound freedom, and to Billy, that was worth way more than a room with a view. He took the opportunity to collapse onto his bed, sleeping the rest of the day away, recharging so that he could go and make Santa Carla his come nightfall.

——————-

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” David growled at you.

“I’m f….” Your head lolled as you dozed off mid sentence.

David rolled his eyes and grabbed your chin, jerking your head up.

“Fine!” You finished quickly, eyes wide open. “I’m fine. See? I’m fine.”

“You absolutely are not.”

“Just one more week at work, and then you can take me out hunting. Promise.”

“You’re really testing my patience here, doll.”

Doll…hadn’t somebody else called you that earlier? Yeah, somebody at the diner…somebody super cute. Handsome, even. Shit. You shoulda gotten his number or something. You already had four boyfriends, what’s one more? David would probably try to eat him, but that could be worked around—

“Hey!” David snapped his fingers in front of your face as you zoned out again. ��That’s it. Dwayne, take her back home to sleep—“

“No!” You protested. “No. I’m fine. I can hang out tonight.”

Dwayne gave you a skeptical look. “You sure about that?”

“Yes I am.”

He narrowed his eyes, watching you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re too much for your own good sometimes.”

You managed a tired grin. Now that night had finally fallen, you had more energy, and seeing the boys come to pick you up from work had perked you up a little bit. You were still dead on your feet, but you felt a lot less zombie-like than you had during the day. Seeing all four of your boyfriends there filled you with anticipation for the endless mischief the night could hold, and as your grin widened, you couldn’t wait. No matter how tired you were, you wouldn’t miss hanging out with them for the world.

And it really was sweet of them to come meet you outside the diner, after all.

“See? She’s fine!” Paul said, slinging an arm over your shoulders and nipping at your jaw. He was buzzing with energy, as if he was determined to somehow transfer some of it to keep you awake all night. “‘Sides, you won’t be havin’ this problem soon…”

Marko appeared on your other side, licking his lips in anticipation. “Baby, I cannot wait to watch you dig in for the first time…”

“We know, Marko,” Paul rolled his eyes as he pulled a joint out of his pocket. “It’s all you’ve been thinkin’ about for the past week.”

“I can’t help it!” Marko whined, bumping his head against yours. “It’s gonna be so fuckin’ hot…”

“Gotta pick someone first,” David cut in. “Got anybody in mind yet, sweetheart?”

“Not really…” you sighed.

“You’re supposed to be keeping an eye out.”

“I know…”

“Otherwise I’ll choose for you.”

“I know!” You insisted.

“You really haven’t seen anybody interesting?” Marko asked skeptically.

You knew he was even more eager for you to turn than David was. For Marko, though, you suspected that it was more about watching you tear people apart and less about the power trip of helping his girlfriend become an undead creature of the night.

To each their own, though.

“I mean…there was a guy at work today…” you chewed at your bottom lip.

David immediately stiffened. “A guy?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really wanna…you know.”

“Well…what kinda guy?” Paul asked, taking a hit before passing his joint to Marko.

“A, uh…handsome one…”

David’s nostrils flared angrily. “Handsome?”

“David, you can’t get mad at me for making an observation,” you began, folding your arms over your chest as you glared at him. “You guys always wanna know if I spot anybody interesting, when I work as a waitress in the weirdest town on the west coast. I see interesting people all day, and today, I waited on a guy who looked and talked so much like you I thought he was—“

“You point him out if you see him,” David growled. “So I can rip him in half.”

Marko let out a loud laugh and you just rolled your eyes. “You’re so tough, David.”

“Fine.” He sneered. “You can do it, then.”

“What? Me?” You groaned. “It isn’t time yet! I told you, I wanna wait another week—“

“Then you better hope we don’t spot him tonight, huh?” David pulled the cigarette out from behind his ear and lit it. “For his sake.”

“God, why are you being such a dick tonight?” You grumbled as the five of you set off towards the pier.

“He’s just in a mood now because you said another guy was handsome,” Paul snickered, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face.

“You know it hurts his ego,” Marko said with a pointed sneer towards David.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you,” David growled.

“What was he like?” Dwayne finally spoke up.

“Who?” You asked, playing dumb.

“The guy.”

“Oh.” You thought for a moment, trying to recall your afternoon. “He got a burger and coffee. No tomatoes. Extra pickle.”

“That’s fascinating, doll.” David rolled his eyes.

“And he called me doll,” you said haughtily, glaring at him.

You watched him falter as he inhaled on his cigarette. “He what?”

“Mmhm. And it sounded nice.” You stuck your nose in the air and marched away, slipping out from under Paul’s arm to walk on your own.

The boys glanced at each other. David was fuming, nose scrunched in disgust as he imagined another guy calling you his pet name. Whoever he was, he had a fucking death wish.

“Chill out, boss man,” Paul said, clapping a hand on David’s shoulder.

“Paul.” David growled. “If you wanna keep your fingers, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Well I suggest you go talk to her,” Marko snapped as he watched you strut away. “We’ll catch a bite on our own. You better go smooth things over, Casanova.”

“What?” David asked incredulously. “I didn’t do anyth—“

“He’s right,” Dwayne nodded.

“The hell are you talkin’ about?” David snarled.

Dwayne was never phased by his outbursts, though, and only looked at him calmly. “Go apologize. We’ll hunt solo tonight.”

“Yeah, and if you’re lucky we’ll bring you some takeout,” Paul cackled, elbowing David as the three of them walked past.

He just glared after them.

“Hey, baby!” Paul greeted when he caught up to you, grabbing your hand and spinning you into his chest. He plopped a messy kiss on your lips and he tasted like blood and weed, like he always did. “We’re all grabbin’ a bite. David wants to talk.”

“Have fun,” Marko smirked as he kissed your cheek.

“Tell him I don’t feel like talking,” you scoffed as Dwayne swooped in to steal a kiss next.

“Too late,” he said, an amused rumble in his chest.

“Ooh, maybe you’ll get lucky and have some bomb makeup sex,” Paul grinned, walking backwards away from you as he puffed on his joint.

“He fuckin’ needs it,” Marko mumbled.

“Fine.” You sighed. “You guys go have fun. Don’t eat anybody too hot.”

“But that’s my favorite flavor!” Paul yelled.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched the three of them go, Marko immediately lunging for Paul before Dwayne managed to catch him in a head lock midair. They were a handful, but you loved them.

“Hey.” David’s voice had you turning around.

He actually looked a little ashamed, his eyes trained on the ground as he kicked at a pebble.

“Hey.” You said flatly.

He dared to look up at you. You could tell he was still grumpy, and he was only trying to talk to you because the others had probably made him…but this was still a massive improvement for him, and you considered it a success.

He sighed, started to roll his eyes, and then stopped. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, trying to encourage him. “You should actually talk about your feelings, you know.”

He made a disgusted noise and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know I get…territorial.” He said, taking your arm and tugging you along to walk with him. “We all do.”

“I know.”

“It’s just a…a thing we all have to deal with.”

“Very beastly of you,” you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “I still don’t want you to kill that guy, though.”

“No promises,” he growled, expression darkening.

“…you can maim him if he really deserves it. Deal?”

“Deal.”

————————

Billy fucking loved Santa Carla.

Back in Hawkins, he was the keg king, and earning his title had been a piece of cake…but here, the beach parties were way wilder and way more fun, and he was having the time of his fucking life.

The town was vibrant during the day, yeah, but come nightfall it sprung to life. The rides on the boardwalk lit up the dark sky, and bonfires surrounded by party goers dotted the beaches. There was no shortage of shitty carnival food, and all the stores on the boardwalk stayed open late. Billy was pretty sure he could find any drugs he could think of within ten minutes if he tried, and he could get his dick wet even faster.

Yeah. It was his kinda place.

He left the Camaro at the motel and walked over to the boardwalk, smoking a fresh cigarette as he navigated the crowds. There really were all sorts of people there—everything from obvious tourists to kids enjoying summer vacation to criminals and runaways flitted around, creating one extremely colorful swarm of pedestrians. He didn’t look out of place at all, not the way he had back in Hawkins where everybody looked like wannabe prom kings and queens and Steve Harrington was the most exciting thing to happen in decades.

Before Billy, of course.

In Santa Carla, though, he had already seen fashions that would have given everyone in Hawkins, Indiana heart attacks. He looked tame compared to some of the punks he spotted lingering around. But still, for some reason…

He noticed he was getting dirty looks.

People stepped out of his way as he passed through the crowd. They watched him carefully, like he might suddenly lunge and bite them. One security guard in particular seemed to be keeping a particularly close eye on him while he wandered around, but rather than feeling perturbed, Billy felt energized. It was feeding his ego, making him feel wild knowing that everybody was looking at him and everybody was wary of him. He didn’t care why.

The sound of metal playing over speakers had him making his way towards the bandstand. When he got closer and squeezed his way through the crowd, the music grew deafening.

Just the way he liked it.

He felt like he had just wandered into heaven.

He had also just wandered right into the hunting ground of one very particular, very high, vampire.

When it came to hunting, Paul liked to be lazy. He’d been around long enough to learn how to let them come to him, and while the others worked hard for their meals, Paul worked smart. He was always so fun and charismatic that he could have humans eating out of the palm of his hand whenever he wanted them to, and when there were rock shows on the beach, the bandstand was always the perfect place for him to find some easy chow. Yeah, the music usually hurt his ears some, but he always got over it and everything healed before he could have an eternity of tinnitus, and he always relied more on his sense of smell than hearing anyways. He thrived in the chaos of the crowd, and tonight was no exception.

The crowd was fun. The band was loud. And even though he was lazy when it came to hunting humans, he still had boundless energy. He was actually glad that David had fucked up with you, because he was having a great time hunting on his own.

“Hey man, watch it!” Someone snarled as he bumped into them.

Paul was too high to take offense at their tone, turning towards them with a lazy grin on his face instead.

What he saw would’ve taken his breath away, had he actually been breathing.

There was a guy there, wearing a leather jacket, with a glare that rivaled David’s. He had an earring dangling from one earlobe and a curly dirty blond mullet, shorter and darker than Marko’s but still good, and blue eyes that actually had Paul feeling a tiny bit weak.

The dude was gorgeous in a way that most humans weren’t, and Paul was immediately into him.

“Sorry, man,” Paul forced himself to say above the sound of the music, keeping that aloof smile on his face. “Here. Token of my apology?”

He held out his joint and the guy looked at it hungrily, like he hadn’t seen weed in months. And really, Billy hadn’t; Hawkins wasn’t exactly the best place to find it, and if Neil had ever caught him reeking of marijuana, he’d have been in for a world of hurt. In Santa Carla, though, he could have anything he wanted…and he was free to take it.

“C’mon. We can go smoke under the stands.” The blond guy in front of him grinned wildly, his eyes blazing.

Billy shoved his anger down and considered the offer. This guy looked like a total idiot, some Twisted Sister rocker type who was high out of his damn mind. His outfit was weird as hell, but at the same time, he didn’t look that out of place in the eclectic crowd, with his mesh shirt and white pants almost as tight as Billy’s jeans. He looked wild, an untamed mane of hair giving off the impression that he had been born headbanging, and in all honesty, he looked...interesting. Intriguing?

Something.

Billy was still pissed at him for bumping into him—seriously, when he had turned around, he had expected to see someone twice this guy’s size just based off of the sheer force of it—but he could go for some free weed. And maybe some booze. And even though he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t know much about Santa Carla or who was who around town, and he could use a guide.

“Fine,” he sneered.

Blondie grinned and grabbed his arm—why the fuck was he so strong?—and dragged him through the crowd. Bodies slammed into Billy as the two squeezed past, but the mystery guy didn’t seem to have any issue navigating the flood of people, as if they didn’t even bother him.

Weird.

“Haven’t seen you around Santa Carla before,” he commented, turning on his heel to walk backwards and face Billy as he spoke. “You new in town?”

“You could say that.” Billy said as he shoved someone out of his way.

The guy just kept grinning that stupid grin. “Name’s Paul.”

“...Billy.”

They were finally on the edges of the crowd, Paul leading the way around the back of the stands. There was nobody else lingering around, just like he had hoped. It was a quiet spot, hidden from the chaos and noise of the bandstand, and the perfect place for a clandestine meeting or a quick snack...although now, Paul wasn’t really sure which one he was hoping for.

“Billy, huh?” Paul asked, trying not to grin like a madman. “Where you from?”

“Little further south.” Billy said. He didn’t want to even consider telling anyone that he had just lived in Hawkins fucking Indiana for a year. “LA.”

Paul could tell there was more to his story than that, but he didn’t push.

“So...what, you come to Santa Carla for fun?” he asked as he lit the joint. “Or...are you running from somethin’?”

When Billy gave him an angry look, he knew he was on the right track.

“It doesn’t matter,” Billy growled, snatching the joint out of Paul’s hand. He inhaled deeply, fighting the cough that was building in his chest. It had been a long fucking time since he had been offered weed, but he wasn’t about to look like a total pussy and hack a lung up.

Paul could see the way he resisted and forced his body to behave. He could hear his heartbeat change. He appreciated the way that Billy was trying so hard to act so tough in front of him...and, honestly, he appreciated the way that Billy didn’t seem to have that natural fear that humans usually did.

“Whatcha runnin’ from?” he asked, taking the joint back.

“The hell do you care?” Billy snapped.

Paul shrugged. “Just curious. I’m a people person, I guess.”

Billy forced a smile onto his face. It was in his best interests to be nice to this guy, he figured, and he knew how to do the whole smile and nod and be fucking polite routine.

“You been here a while?” he asked as Paul handed him the joint again.

The blonde broke into a laughing fit.

How fucking high was this guy?

Billy took a hit and watched Paul clutching at his sides. He was laughing like a fucking hyena, as if Billy had just made the funniest joke in the world. Well, he was glad for the positive attention, at least...maybe this guy wouldn’t be half bad?

“Oh yeah, a while,” Paul managed to squeeze out between cackles. “Long ass time. I know everything about Santa Carla.”

“Yeah? So you know who’s who around here?” Billy asked, starting to feel the effects of the (surprisingly, suspiciously, strong) weed.

Paul’s laughter faded into something a touch more sinister and he leaned in, blue eyes suddenly so dangerous. “Oh, Billy Boy, you wanna know who’s in charge of Santa Carla?”

Billy couldn’t speak. He just held Paul’s gaze, refusing to break it, refusing to move and lose whatever weird ass energy he suddenly felt between them. He didn’t realize it, but he was being fucking brave, and Paul was impressed...because Paul was desperately trying to get into his head, and he couldn’t.

And that fascinated him. It also sealed Billy’s fate--any urges Paul had to take a bite out of him were gone, and he way preferred the thought of turning him and keeping him around instead.

“I’ll tell ya who owns Santa Carla,” he said, reaching up to twirl a strand of Billy’s hair around his finger. “But can you hang?”

“What the fuck do you mean can I hang?” Billy spat venomously, teeth bared as he bristled. “What the fuck do you think?”

Paul just grinned, moving his hand to brush a rough thumb over Billy’s cheek. He tried one last time to get into that pretty head of his, staring into his eyes as he searched for something, anything, and once again...he came up totally empty.

Weird.

“Yeah, I think you’ll fit right in,” Paul decided, taking his joint back and stuffing it into his jacket. Then, he slung his arm around Billy’s shoulders, noticing how right it felt to have him there, and led him away from the bandstand. “C’mon. We gotta find Marko.”

-------------

Marko was in the middle of whispering sweet nothings into a girl’s ear when Paul and Billy found him…and he was seriously pissed off by the interruption.

“Hey, what gives?” He growled as Paul grabbed him by the jacket and hauled him away from the bonfire.

“You havin’ fun, Marko?” Paul sneered down at him.

“Paul, I swear to fucking god, I am so hungry right now and if you don’t let me—who the fuck is that?”

Billy was standing there, hands in his jacket pockets, watching the two of them. Observing. Catching every little movement, honing in on every breath and shift of their weight. He was looking on with the coolness and the calculation of a predator, Marko thought, in the same way that he and the boys watched the crowds of humans on the boardwalk.

Marko’s nostrils flared as he tried to catch the scent of vampire, but other than Paul and the rest of Santa Carla’s usual nighttime denizens, all he could smell was human.

He tilted his head slightly. No werewolf. No demon. Just…human. Gorgeous human, but still…just human.

“What the hell is this?” He hissed at Paul, watching Billy from the corner of his eye. “Why’re you parading him around like this?”

“You mighta noticed Billy here is a little special,” Paul put a hand on the back of Marko’s neck and guided him towards Billy. “I think we should introduce him to the rest of the gang.”

Marko glanced up at him like he was crazy.

Then, Paul leaned down, his lips next to Marko’s ear as he whispered, “I can’t get in his head. At all.”

Marko frowned at that. “You were never particularly good at it,” he mumbled as he looked Billy over.

Okay, yeah. He could see why Paul hadn’t just eaten him. The guy was handsome, and he was definitely their type, right down to the jewelry. But looks didn’t mean he could just join them…even though it was weird as shit that Marko couldn’t seem to get in his head, either, and David would probably want to know about that.

“You wanna tell your boyfriend to quit checkin’ me out?” Billy barked.

“Aw, Marko, you didn’t tell me we were dating,” Paul leaned on him, leering down.

Marko gave him an exasperated look. “…my mistake. We gonna go find David and Dwayne or what?”

“Good idea, man!” Paul clapped him on the shoulder and then let him go again, leading the way up towards the boardwalk stairs.

Billy and Marko fell in just behind him, the former looking down at the latter and considering him. His head was fuzzy from Paul’s weed, and maybe if he was totally sober, he would have been able to figure out what it was about Marko that felt so off.

He was good at watching people. It was something he had picked up from years of dealing with his shitty father. As a child, he had learned to watch and anticipate, because that was what gave him the best chance of ducking away from swinging fists. Now, as an adult, he watched and anticipated and always knew what people wanted, and it gave him the ability to charm them into doing whatever he wanted. It also gave him the ability to simply notice things, little things that other people probably ignored—like the way that Marko bit at his thumb when he was looking around, or the oddly threatening little shine in his eyes. He noticed the way that Paul, so wild and seemingly carefree, had little moments of calm in which he looked around and took in his surroundings, watching people the same way that Billy was watching him.

Billy was high, yeah…but he could still tell that something was up with these guys. He felt like he should be wary, but at the same time, he didn’t care; he had survived being flayed not that long ago, something that probably should have left his mind completely broken. Whatever these guys were up to didn’t scare him in the slightest. Gangbangers didn’t scare him. Serial killers didn’t scare him.

Humans didn’t scare him.

“I think you’re gonna love Santa Carla,” Paul said over his shoulder. “We got everything here.”

“You tried the Chinese place yet?” Marko asked, glancing up at Billy with a smirk. “To die for.”

“Just got in this morning,” Billy said coolly as they slipped into the crowd. “Only food I’ve had was some shitty diner.”

“Oh yeah?” Paul asked, immediately thinking about you and your shitty diner. “Which one?”

“Hell if I know.” Billy paused. “Waitress was hot though.”

Marko’s proverbial hackles immediately rose and he sneered, ready to tear him a new one if he really was talking about you. As much as he liked the looks of Billy, that didn’t mean he wanted the guy pawing at you. Before he could say anything, though, Paul cut in.

“You got a thing for waitresses?” He laughed loudly. “Real specific type, man.”

“Nah. This one was real cute, though.” Billy grinned. He could do this. He could handle guy talk. Just like the locker room back at Hawkins High.

Marko caught sight of his smile and his eyes widened slightly.

Okay.

That was damn near perfect.

He couldn’t help but wonder how he’d look with fangs, though.

“Marko, you got any idea where Dwayne is?” Paul asked, glancing back and forth.

“You know where he always goes,” Marko said. “That alley, over by—never mind, found him.”

The metallic scent of blood suddenly wrapped itself around them as Dwayne carved a path through the crowd. Well, at least someone had gotten a nice meal. And he had mostly cleaned up, save for a smear on his jaw, and when Paul saw it, he desperately wanted to lick it off. Would that be rude? Would Billy care? …why did he care if Billy cared? Fuck it, he needed some fresh blood in his system. Billy could deal with it.

“Been lookin’ for you, man!” Paul said as Dwayne joined them. He looked up at him hopefully, asking—begging—for permission, and when Dwayne tilted his chin up a nearly imperceptible amount, he knew he had gotten it.

Billy watched as Paul swiped a long tongue over Dwayne’s jaw…and he was frozen. He had never seen two guys doing shit like that together, and he couldn’t believe they were just…doing it out in public.

Not to mention it was pretty fucking weird to lick blood off of someone’s face after a fight.

...Weird and a little erotic.

Neil would have a fucking heart attack if he saw. His father had beaten the shit out of him and called him a fag just for doing his hair. But here, these guys were totally unafraid, totally uncaring about the occasional glare thrown their way, and Billy couldn’t even fathom being so open about it.

He watched as Paul seemed to purr something in Dwayne’s ear, the brunette snorting softly in amusement before nudging at Paul’s head with his nose. It was the simplest sort of affection, but it was something Billy had never even seen before…and he didn’t know if it pissed him off because he thought it was stupid, or because he was jealous.

“—back by the bikes,” he heard Dwayne say as he pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“He hasn’t been out at all?” Marko asked nervously. He didn’t want to think about how pissed off David would be if he was hungry, and he also didn’t want to think about David deciding to take a chunk out of Billy.

Dwayne just shook his head and then led the way back through the crowds, the others following him. Billy kept his hands in his pockets, fiddling with his cigarette pack and lighter. He was as nervous as Marko sounded, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t let these guys know that the tone in Marko’s voice had him wary as hell, and he was bracing himself for whoever he was.

He couldn’t panic.

Not here.

Not in front of these total strangers. He never panicked in front of anyone, never showed any weakness, and he wasn’t about to start now.

The vampires all heard the way his heart rate increased and suddenly their attention was on him, even though they didn’t show it. They were listening intently, Dwayne prodding at Billy’s mind and finding the same walls that Paul and Marko had. He couldn’t figure it out, either; they never had this problem with humans, and as far as he could tell, this guy was just that.

Human.

Billy swallowed his anxiety back down and his pulse eventually slowed again. Paul and Marko shared a glance, but kept their mouths shut. They knew each other well enough to know what the other was thinking. They liked this new guy, and they both had the urge to help him. To make him feel at home in Santa Carla. Because they had the feeling--and their feelings were usually right--that he was a lost boy, just like them.

--------

“David, quit!” you laughed, shoving at him.

He just grinned against your throat, teeth brushing over your skin. “Why, kitten? Gimme a good reason.”

“Because we’re in public!” You squealed as he pulled you up against him.

You were sitting backwards on his bike, facing him and half straddling his lap. He had his hands around your waist and his lips on your neck, not giving a damn if anybody saw—and they definitely saw, because you were putting on quite the show—and he was perfectly happy to stay right there and make you squirm. He could feel hunger gnawing away at him, but for the moment, you were keeping it at bay…and besides, he would way rather make out with you than go hunting.

“Can’t wait until you’re finally turned,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Why?” You asked breathlessly, your fingers tangled in his hair.

“‘Cause I won’t have to be so gentle.”

He dug his fingers into your sides for good measure and your face flushed when you felt how strong his grip was. Sometimes, you almost forgot that he could tear you in half as easily as you would a piece of paper, and whenever he reminded you, an excited little shiver flew down your spine.

“You like it rough, don’t you, kitten?” He purred, licking a line up your throat. “I can smell you gettin’ wet….”

“David,” you whined, tilting your head away to look at him. “Quit teasing me!”

“Oh, I’m not teasing. I’ll fuck you right here. Right now. C’mon.” He slipped his hands under your thighs and hoisted you the rest of the way onto his lap, laughing when you yelped in surprise.

His teeth found the side of your neck again and he nibbled at your skin, a low growl rumbling in his throat. You couldn’t help but melt against him, sighing happily as you stroked his hair. It was moments like these, where David was so calm and loving, that you loved the most. Nothing else mattered. It was just the two of you, the rest of the world fading away even though the boardwalk was crowded and loud.

“I love you, David,” you murmured.

He hummed, his grip on you tightening. He wasn’t great at saying the words, even though there were only three of them, and you had only ever heard him utter them once. That didn’t matter, though, because you knew that he felt it, and you didn’t need to hear it out loud when he was so good at showing you in so many other ways.

“You’re too good for me, kitten.” He said, kissing the side of your head.

“Not true,” you smiled, nuzzling his cheek.

You heard that growl-purr rising again.

And then, he froze.

David fell completely still, for just a moment, just long enough for you to notice. When you pulled back, you saw his eyes trained on something behind you, and when you twisted around to see, you were greeted with the sight of the rest of your boys…

And one extra.

On the one hand, you were glad to see the hot guy from the diner. He really did fit in with the rest of the boys, walking next to Paul with his hands in his pockets and a very devil may care attitude about him. At night, surrounded by the dark sky and the bright lights of the boardwalk, he was even hotter than he had been earlier that day, and you didn’t mind the idea of adding him to the gang...On the other hand, you really, really didn’t want David to tear him in half.

“Sweetheart,” David drawled as he looked over your head. “That wouldn’t happen to be your boy, would it?”

“Uh…” you floundered as they got closer, “see, when you say it like that…”

“Oh, damn, looks like you two made up!” Marko taunted, that cute little sneer that you loved so much plastered on his face.

“This is Billy,” Paul said, nudging the new guy forward. “He wants to hang with us.”

Billy gave him an annoyed grunt as he was shoved, but he held himself back from slugging him. The platinum blond dude on the bike looked extremely fucking pissed off, and Billy couldn’t really blame him...if he had just gotten interrupted by these goons while he had a hot girl like you on his lap, he would have blown a gasket.

You looked absolutely delicious perched there, too.

“Well, you got me disappointed, doll,” Billy said nonchalantly, ignoring the guy behind you and the way his eyes narrowed angrily. “I was kinda hopin’ you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

You stared at him. Okay, yeah, you thought that was pretty hot...you were used to Surf Nazis making passes at you, but they were gross and always just pissed you off. This, though...this had you a little bit breathless. “Oh, wow...”

David glanced down at you and snorted angrily before slipping away to grab Billy by the front of his jacket. “Who the fuck are you?”

Billy just met his gaze. Yeah. This guy was scarier than Paul. By a lot. But he wasn’t scarier than a brain monster from another dimension...and he wasn’t scarier than Neil Hargrove.

Not by a longshot.

You watched as Billy sneered back at David, something that even the rest of Santa Carla’s vampires rarely did.

It was...pretty hot.

“Billy Hargrove,” the human said, lip raised slightly. “Who the fuck are you?”

David just stared at him.

Billy smelled like leather and motor oil and cigarettes and weed, a combination that David loved because that’s what his boys smelled like, and it made his nose twitch. When he had grabbed Billy, he had noticed how solid he was, and David hated, he fucking hated, that he had to look up to meet his gaze. It was like getting up in Dwayne’s face...except Dwayne was chill and this guy was like a powder keg waiting to explode.

Then again, so was David.

He didn’t understand why the boys hadn’t just eaten him. This guy was dangerous, he could tell, and if he was too aggressive, then there was no fucking way they’d get along well enough for him to join the gang. And the worst part, the most horrible part (besides the lovey dovey eyes everybody was making at him), was that Billy’s mind was totally closed off.

It didn’t make any sense. He looked like a human. He smelled like a human. Billy Hargrove was a fucking human, just a guy, and for the first time in his nearly 80 years of being an undead fiend, David couldn’t get into a human’s head. He had run into this problem with other species, sure--werewolves were difficult, zombies didn’t have much going on upstairs, witches tended to be able to keep him out if they knew what they were doing...but there was nothing to indicate that Billy wasn’t a normal human.

But clearly, he wasn’t normal, and as much as he hated it, David wanted to keep him around to figure out what the hell was going on.

“David.” he finally growled. “And I wanna know what the hell you’re doin’ on my boardwalk.”

“Wanna let me go before you start askin’ questions?” Billy sneered.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” David snarled, tightening his grip.

“Or what?” Billy challenged.

“Alright, okay,” you suddenly appeared between them, easing David off of Billy with a hand on each of their chests. “That’s enough of that.”

Billy looked down at your hand and then back up at David. He had a shit eating grin on his face that would have totally sealed the deal and had David ripping his head off then and there if you weren’t in the way.

“Move, doll,” David growled.

“Absolutely not,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest and facing him head on.

“Why?”

“Because...” you turned slightly, looking up at Billy Hargrove with a small smile on your face. “I think I like this one.”

David looked between you and Billy and you could practically see him thinking. You could tell that he was communicating with the others, too, and finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he gave a little nod.

“Alright. Fine.” he said, taking a small step back. “Come back to our place, Billy. Let’s see if you can hang.”

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #billy hargrove #Billy Hargrove x reader #the lost boys x billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things x reader #poly lost boys x reader #poly lost boys #lost boys x reader #lost boys x reader x billy hargrove #people are strange #david x reader #marko x reader #dwayne x reader #paul x reader

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randomfoggytiger · 1 month

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Collector's Edition: Cars and Conversations (Part I)

Mulder and Scully have traveled a lot a lot a lot during their years in the basement-- surely, they had pretty cool conversations on the road?

Loose chronological order below~

@wexleresque/hellsteeth's

stars

As he climbs into the passenger seat of his father’s Lincoln, Fox yawns. The dashboard clock reads 5:03 AM and the smug tilt of his mother’s lips suggests that the early hour is the result of considerable negotiation. The tires crunch on the driveway and his mother waves at him absentmindedly from the porch as they depart. She doesn’t make a habit of smiling, but in the dark, Fox thinks something close might be on her face.

The drive is quiet this morning, save for the news on the radio and the whistle of the wind through the cracked window. Sunflower seeds sail over the glass and Fox takes a few out of the bag, chewing on them for something to do.

“How’s work, Dad?” he asks as they pass Fall River.

Young Mulder is tossed back and forth by his begrudging parents.

the fbi basement bulletin board - Chapter 5 (Tumblr)

“Hm. Well you probably don’t need a medical professional to tell you this, but if you keep moving it around, it’s going to take longer to heal. You need to rest it.”

“Noted, doc. And you just missed the turn, by the way.”

S1 Mulder is bad at directions-- especially with a sprained wrist.

Local Radio (Tumblr)

Driving out to a little town in Indiana hadn't been in the original plan, but the business of Memorial Day weekend had removed flying as an option. They needed to reach their destination within 24 hours. So here they were, en route to another place that didn't even warrant a dot on the map (you've seen one, you've seen them all, he sometimes thought to himself).

Mulder is amused at a crazy radio station (and at Scully's reaction.)

Christine Leigh's (Alt. Ao3) Maybe?

"Okay, here we are." Maggie said this as she pulled off the highway and onto the road that would take them into Democrat Hot Springs. She was surprised that there wasn't more traffic. This town, if she remembered right, was supposed to be some sort of a resort area. Five more minutes, and they were in the parking lot looking up at the familiar sight of the neon arches, and that's all that mattered.

Captain Scully is back from deployment; and Maggie senses something is off with her youngest daughter.

@thatfragilecapricorn30's (Ao3) Tell Me You Love Me - Chapter 1

“How do you know where I live?” he asked.

Scully’s cheeks reddened; she was hoping he wouldn’t notice or find her actions inappropriate. “It was, uh, it was in your personnel file. I wrote down your address after you called me at home after the last case. I figured I may need it at some point.”

Mulder smiled. “Just trying to see if you’ve been spying on me.”

Post Deep Throat Scully can't shed her keyed-up nerves after driving Mulder back home.

@scullywolf's (Ao3)

Eve

Her eyes narrowed. “How far up north?”

“California’s a big state, Scully.”

“I’m aware of that. How far?”

He decided there was probably something very interesting over in the corner that merited staring at while he answered. “About 300 miles. Give or take.”

Eve Mulder sheepishly wakes Scully.

Red Museum

Sure, the old man wasn’t a member of the church, and similarities between him and Brother Andrew were all but nonexistent, but the cryptic “There’s something I’d like to show you,” with no further explanation, was enough to set her mental warning bells chiming. She was a grown woman, with a gun, but that didn’t mean she loved the idea of jumping into some random stranger’s truck after only the briefest of exchanges. Mulder joined her at the truck’s window, an unspoken question on his face.

Red Museum Scully communicates her anxieties to Mulder without a word.

Demons

The car company rep agreed to come and pick her up, and she sat down on the curb for only a minute or so before getting up again to pace off her nervous energy. A hundred horrible scenarios played themselves out in her head; at least ninety of them involved Mulder getting into car wrecks of varying degrees of seriousness. In order to keep herself from panicking, she tried to focus on the task at hand, which only made her angry that she was even in her current position in the first place.

Demons Scully has to call in a new rental car.

Drive

“All I’m saying,” she said pointedly, “is that it could be worse. We could be crammed in a room right now with a bunch of other agents, and instead we’re at least driving around through what you have to admit is some fairly scenic farmland.”

Mulder spared a moment to mourn their lost office.

Drive Scully appreciates being out in the field with Mulder again.

Dreamland II

"...Mulder, I’m not proud of how long it took me to realize what was going on. I was about ready to drag you in for an MRI. Some sort of delayed-effect brain trauma from your trip out to the Queen Anne was the only thing I could think of to account for your dramatic change in behavior. Only it wasn’t you at all–”

“Well, you believe it now, and that’s all that matters. Now how do we fix things?”

Dreamland II Mulder and Scully catch up before heading back into the fray.

@cactustree's (Ao3) Fast Times and Slow Drives

She startles when she feels a warm hand on top of hers, and her eyes snap open as though jolted by an electric shock. She looks over to find Mulder studying her, his eyes darkened with concern.

“Watch the road, Mulder,” she murmurs, pulling her hand away from his.

“What’s wrong, Scully?”

Post Genderbender Mulder banters away Scully's apology with facts.

@h0ldthiscat's (Ao3, Alt. Ao3)

Survivor

She swats him away with one of her small hands when he touches her head and helps her into the car, but the look she shoots him lacks her usual antagonism, and the purse of her lips doesn't quite convince him that she's annoyed.

"Do you want another one of these before we hit the road?" He shakes a half-empty bottle of Gatorade at her as he slides behind the wheel, but she shakes her head once, firmly, and presses her lips together in a thin line, making them even whiter than they are.

Post Darkness Falls Mulder drives them home.

7. things you said while we were driving

She shoves the sunshade back up and clears her throat. “Can we go?”

He notices for the first time that her eyes are wet, that her chin is quivering despite her best attempts to control it. Remorse and guilt wash over him as he remembers an offhand comment from earlier in the week that explains her makeup, her nicer-than-usual suit, the set of her jaw.

Post Never Again Mulder's remorse soothes Scully's feelings.

Can I ask for a fic tonight? :)

“Was the drive okay?” she asks.

Mulder jerks his head back to the still open door and says, “Ask your son, he drove.”

William appears in the doorway, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tawny hair in his eyes. “It was fine, Mom.”

“Good,” she says, shooting daggers at Mulder with her eyes, daggers that say she can’t believe he let their son drive in a snowstorm....

AU-- Revival era Scully is not pleased Mulder let college age William drive back in a snowstorm.

@crossedbeams’s (Ao3) I-Spy

‘I love this song!’ I explain, whizzing the twizzler I have pilfered from Mulder’s junk food haul around in some vaguely rhythmic pattern. I love music I just lack the skill set to express that love very elegantly.

Mulder chuckles at my enthusiasm and cranks up the volume, ‘I never would have had you pegged as a Clapton fan’.

S1 Scully tells Mulder about her family road trips.

@slippinmickeys's (Ao3, Gossamer)

Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 25 (Tumblr)

The thing was, it was next to impossible to see out the windshield.

Scully loved thunderstorms. Having spent a large portion of her youth in San Diego, they were still a novelty, even after years on other, more weather-prone bases and college campuses, and if she'd been home, she would have pulled up a chair next to her window and curled up there with a mug of tea, watching the light play in the sky and the water ping sharply against the glass.

However, as a driver she was cautious, and with Mulder, well, she had a reputation to uphold: He was the engine. She was the brake.

S1 Scully drives through a storm, donuts and a dozing partner included.

@brownies-and-tea/browniesandtea's Collect Call

“Mulder, it’s too late.” Scully sighed and leaned against the rain-streaked window of the car.

"I can't believe you're thinking fondly of that awful motel."

"I'm thinking fondly of a decent night's sleep." she stretched across the passenger seat.

S1 Mulder pursues a lead with Scully, from car to phone booth.

Ten's Learning to Breath (1/2)

In the elevator the women leaned him against one of the walls and kept talking to him, worried that otherwise he would go back to sleep and start sliding to the floor. Dana asked him questions, like his name and address, to keep him alert. She was relieved when she received the correct answers.

They got him into the backseat of Maggie's car, careful not to bump his head. Dana immediately raced around the car and got in the back herself. She fastened his seatbelt and watched as he leaned back against the headrest. He was asleep again before Maggie turned the key in the ignition.

AU-- Post One Breath Scully, Maggie, and Melissa are shocked at the state of Mulder's apartment.

J. C. Sun's Car Ride

My partner is next to me, as he always is, but for the first time in months, he's wearing his glasses. They make him look like an owl: a giant, somber six-foot owl perched in the driver's side seat. However, I doubt any owl has ever rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow and cradled a book in his lap, or chased the paranormal for a living. Nor do I think any owl has ever looked quite like him: the slightly twisted nose, the clear hazel eyes and the annoying, annoying little lock that, even now, droops across his forehead. It takes a wrench of will to resist the urge to reach out and to smooth it into place.

Post Firewalker Scully is bonded to Mulder now.

@seek-its-opposite/seek_its_opposite's

transient luminous events

He is still just standing there, the sleeves on the turtleneck he didn’t need to wear pushed up at the elbows. She is suddenly, vividly aware of the car, of the hot metal and the smell of rubber in stagnant humidity. Duane Barry’s trunk smelled like a spare tire. Her mouth goes cloth-gag dry.

“Can we?” she asks. She waves her hand at the road ahead and wonders how she’s so sure of this: He’d have known what she was asking even if she hadn’t.

“Sure,” Mulder nods. He looks relieved. He grabs their flashlights from the glove compartment and hands her one, and the flood of Pfaster’s headlights behind her eyes softens and clarifies into two beams that will never outrun her. And they walk.

Post Irresistible Scully confronts Mulder on his bubble-wrap method of protection.

if you weren't so

She tilts her chin up at him, at the usual angle, and finds that the geometry between them is the same.

“I need to talk to you,” she says. “Something’s happened.”

Behind him, his not-wife drags a recliner over the threshold in reverse, yelling at the houses that all look like hers.

“I have to talk to you alone.”

She says “alone” like she always says it and wonders if she meant to do that. There are days when she’s sure she could leave him in the dirt and still wind up in a room with him at the end of the world. As they slip behind the truck, she's gripped by the idea that to Joanne Fletcher, she is the woman Mulder shouldn’t be with.

AU-- Dreamland II Mulder and Scully try to find a way back to each other.

theramblinrose's Irresistible - Chapter 5/Chapter 6

“I didn’t know when I’d hear from you,” Mulder said.

“I’m at the airport,” Scully said. “I’ve got a car. I’m driving in. I just wanted to call before I left.”

“Anything wrong?” Mulder asked.

“No,” Scully said. “Honestly—everything’s feeling pretty right, Mulder.”

AU-- Irresistible Mulder and Scully are juggling their new relationship, a surprise pregnancy, and the fallout from the nefarious Pfaster.

eponine119's Same Old Fight

-Turn it back, he'd insisted, his knuckles white on the steering wheel with the effort of keeping the car on the narrow twisting road, This is making me jumpy.

-I don't know why I let you drive.

-You didn't have any choice.

-Mulder, pull over and let me drive.

-No.

S2 Mulder rescues Scully after their blowout fight almost ends with an explosive conclusion.

Sneakers/sneakers's

Walter Skinner's 'From Left Field

"But I don't see why Skinner should care about the book. It didn't mention *him*, and it didn't even use our names." Scully stood in front of the bookcase, scanning the shelves. "We didn't divulge anything classified; I'm sure the reading public thinks the whole think is a joke."

"But they had the nerve to claim I ate *twelve* piece of sweet potato pie!"

She pulled the book down. "Skinner's going to complain about your eating habits?"

"But I *hate* sweet potato pie, Scully. You know that, remember? I turned green at the gills last Thanksgiving, when your sister-in-law offered me some."

Post Jose Chung's From Outer Space Skinner has his thoughts on the book.

Sweet Home D.C.

"But the reception . . ." She looked out the window at the 1 AM darkness. "I think we both need to get some sleep. Turn the radio back on if you want to."

He did.

<< . . . Sweet home, Alabama . . . where skies are so blue . . . sweet home, Alabama . . . Lord, I'm coming home to you . . .>>

"That guy's got something wrong with his head, Scully."

Mulder and Scully, switching songs and swapping gum.

Evil_Little_Dog's

Cassadaga Bound

Dana squinted out the car window. "I don't think there's enough room in this town for all the witches, or demons, or devils in Florida, let alone the world."

S3 Mulder detours he and Scully to a fortune teller's.

Travelogue

“We’re not lost.” Mulder shot her a look then turned back to the road, correcting for the drift. “We’re directionally challenged.”

Making a guttural noise deep in her throat, Scully glanced out the window.

Mulder, the car, and a ditch.

@sunlightscully's (XF Writing Challenge - Food)

They have perfected the art of car eating. The driver orders and pays and hands the greasy bag over to be unpacked. The passenger unwraps the driver’s burger. They share fries.

When he pays she asks for the bare minimum and nothing too expensive. He orders extra large milkshakes and pretends he doesn’t see her stealing sips. They compensate for each other. Ketchup has not been spilled in years.

Mulder realizes he loves Scully.

Starbuck's (FFN) Wake Me When We Get There

"Shouldn't be much longer, Scully."

She made no acknowledgment, lying her head upon the seat once again. He continued driving as she drifted in and out of consciousness. White line. White line. Yellow line.

"Wake me when we get there, Mulder."

Mulder keeps the volume down so his partner can sleep on the long drive home.

@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk's (Ao3) drabble; pay no mind

Scully paces around the car, branches and leaves snapping quietly under her weight. But she’s not angry, not at all, or nervous. She occasionally bends down to steal a sunflower seed from him and pauses to crack it before continuing her little loops.

Mulder and Scully find their own ways to entertain themselves when the rental car breaks down.

@incidental-ao3/incidental's Febuwhump 2023: The Truth is Out There (And the Fic is In Here) - Chapter 18

“No, Mulder, I should be keeping you awake, you’re the driver.”

“But I am awake,” he argued reasonably. “So there’s no reason for you to torture yourself when you could catch another few hours’ rest.”

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s not torture,” she scoffed. He smirked.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said. She scowled sleepily.

Scully tries not to fall asleep, and Mulder ruminates on life before lights.

@mulderbabe77's Taco Stands and Regrets

He pushed down a little harder on the gas pedal.

“Are you gonna throw up?” He gulped, hoping to hear a no.

“Nope,” she answered and for a moment he almost sighed with relief. “The other thing, I think,” she finished, grimaced again and held a hand to her cramping stomach.

“I’m on it!” He sped the car up a little more.

Ten minutes later they could see the exit just ahead. Mulder was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Mulder and Scully both get food poisoning while on the road.

@hamster-on-fire/fade_into_the_dusk_with_me’s For The Sake Of Driving (Ao3)

They’d do this sometimes. Drive. They were always driving, it seemed. But when it was dark like this & he was scared like this, or tired like this, or just utterly numb like this, it was different. The curve of the road up ahead could feel like a whole conversation; the silence, an opening, & they’d both sit there, like staring at a sterile wound.

Mulder and Scully help each other decompress on long, long car drives late into the night.

Timemeantnothing's On the road again

“We helped keep the Germans from getting Thor’s Hammer.”

“Mhmm,” Scully hummed, turning the corner.

“It was Einstein, Scully. We protected Albert Einstein.”

“That was very good of us to do.”

Mulder and Scully, driving: hot ladies, aliens, cheek kisses, Triangle rambles, and Millennium contentedness.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

**Note**: I am a "separate the art from the artist" person through-and-through; but my lists will no longer be featuring writers that have blocked me-- tooooooo much drama has been kicked up over that issue.

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acowardinmordor · 3 months

Text

Ignore what I did to ages timelines and canon to make this ficlet work. This is for @eddiezpaghetti and is, I promise, an actual event from my high school life. Mine was the football captain and star quarterback though. 😇

Deep Breath

Eddie was not an athletic guy. It didn’t matter that his fine motor skills were excellent with a pen or his guitar, the big picture version with hand eye coordination and ability to do anything even closely connected to sports was crap. So he never did sports for longer than a few days when he was young enough his mom was still around and encouraging him.

Any accidental skills he learned while wearing a uniform evaporated in the decade since his mom died. Then he met kids who didn’t make fun of him about sports, realized he could have friends without the ‘friendly’ sportsmanship, and Eddie didn’t look back.

Nerd for life. Sports for never.

Then Eddie was turning 11, and his dad had a chance for a ‘great job’ in Colorado. First in Pueblo. Then just north of the border into Wyoming. And then, in a little town halfway up the side of the mountains near Cañon City, while his dad went to Florence most days. Al usually managed to be home a couple nights each week during those years, Eddie found a book called a Player’s Manual and some friends, and that was that.

So, when the mysterious job his dad had been working all that time went bad, and a major news story about an attempted breakout at Florence ADX, when cops showed up to arrest Al, Eddie ran into the trees, up the trail and kept hiding for a day or two.

He wasn’t an athlete, but he knew how to sprint, he knew how to hide, and life with Pops made damn sure Eddie knew how to keep quiet. He was seventeen, and knew some states would try him as an adult for all the shit he’d helped Al do.

Eventually they sent a park ranger with a dog instead of a cop. A few days later, his Uncle Wayne greeted him with a massive hug in Hawkins, Indiana.

The next day, he was enrolled at Hawkins High, as a junior in limbo. Colorado did classes in trimesters, Indiana did them in quarters, and through some kind of Evil Machinations, he had eight registered classes, only two of which were needed to advance to senior year.

The other six?

Theater. Jazz Band. Study Hall. Study Hall. PE. Another Study Hall.

And.

Advanced PE.

He argued that he shouldn’t have to take non-required courses. They informed him about Indiana Laws on Truancy. He argued he’d rather take five Study Halls. They cited policy. He begged to take chemistry and biology instead. They refused.

Thus was the cruel hand of the Universe, demanding he participate in not just one stupid sports ball class — where, at least, there were other nerds to hide with— but a second, where student athletes were put so they had an easy A, and extra time to workout or stretch or whatever.

He skipped the first one and immediately learned about those truancy laws.

The next week, defeated and miserable, but still running late, he donned the grey tone garb, and stepped into Advanced PE.

Which was the exact moment he noticed the first flaw in his previous assumption.

A class full of sporty kids meant a class full of people who ranged from hot to gorgeous to ‘as long as she isn’t speaking’ all bent in amazing shapes as they stretched and warmed up. Including a guy with hair from a commercial and lips that would be borderline illegal in the Bible Belt.

Eddie was definitely going to die of lack of blood in his brain at some point in the next nine sessions of this class.

At least he remained the antithesis of sporty. The polar opposite of whatever Farrah Fawcett had going on. He could lurk and not participate, ogle until his poor bisexual heart broke, and still be good to go into Senior year.

Except. A few more things leading up to the one that really mattered.

The coach was a little annoyed that his star athletes were putting in the minimum effort.

The other kids were shooting him dirty looks.

The coach was pretty good at sussing out the best leverage on teens.

And.

Unlike Eddie, coach knew the natural effect of living at high elevations for six years.

—

And see, it cannot be overstated that Eddie was not a sports-guy. But he did need to run (away) sometimes. Hearing that they were running six laps, at your own pace, was excellent. Then the sweetener: once you were done, you could cool down and be done for the day.

He wasn’t going to sprint, but a quick jog followed by half an hour napping on the bleachers? Yes please.

Whistle blown, clock started, and off they went.

It really, truly, cannot be overstated how much Eddie was not trying to be a little shit or that he wasn’t trying to go fast.

To be fair to Farrah up at the front, none of them were going fast. Eddie didn’t have practice after class like they did, and he badly wanted that napping time.

By the end of the first lap, Eddie and Farrah had pulled away from the others a ways, by the end of the second, Eddie had pulled ahead. And he kept pulling ahead. And ahead. Rolled his eyes as he caught and then lapped the rest of the class. They had some choice words for him as he went by.

Put some extra distance so he wouldn’t have to hear it. Got far enough by lap four he had a good view of Farrah’s ass, and was mentally writing a description for pathetic, but attractive court buffoons to use once he found a dnd group.

The coach was annoyed though, and knew exactly where to push.

“Harrington if the new kid laps you, I’m benching you for the rest of the year and I’ll make Jason Captain in the fall!” Came blaring through a bullhorn.

Farrah Harrington full on stumbled at that, head whipped sideways to stare. Gape? Slow down running as what sounded like a peak-jock-threat was leveled at him.

And Eddie wasn’t trying to be a lot shit at the start of this, but he damn well was now.

Eddie found out later the science stuff, but in the moment he decided it was either magic, or because he was used to dodging things as he ran up poorly maintained hiking trails in the Rockies. Cause now that he was trying?

No damn clue why he wasn’t dry heaving as he collapsed on the track to die.

No clue why he was closing the distance as they went into the last straight of the fifth lap, despite Harrington visibly realizing the coach was serious.

The magic theory was dismissed when Eddie didn’t easily lap the guy. They were around the first turn when Eddie got close enough that Harrington could turn to see him. Farrah was red faced and a little wobbly. Sure, Eddie was sweaty as fuck — it was way too hot for April, there should still be snow! — but he could do it. A little more effort, just enough to close another five feet, and he’d do it. Just about half a lap left. More than enough time. Eddie could be an absolute dick and lap Harrington, then get damn close to catching the rest of the class a second time.

The mere concept of their agony almost had him going for it. Who was he if he didn’t take a moment to gloat though?

He pulled level, tilting his head with a smile the drama teacher called “impressively deranged” planning to stay there until the turn, then actually sprint for the first time without cops behind him.

But Harrington turned to him, out of breath, red faced, plush lipped, with great hair, an ass worthy of songwriting, and gave Eddie the most desperately adorable puppy eyes god or man had ever crafted.

Eddie didn’t freeze, but the guy was hot, and maybe, maybe, he didn’t want to make him sad.

So he wasn’t a dick.

But he was a little shit, and he kept pace the rest of the way round. With his body half turned and awkward. With his dimples going crazy. With every person in the class well aware that it was an act of mercy by the new kid.

He even dropped back at the last second with a wink, letting Farrah cross the line ahead of him.

—

That was how Eddie became both beloved and beloathed by every sports kid on his third day in school. That was how he became the threat the coach used to intimidate the others. That was how the first rumor about witchcraft started.

That was not the day Eddie found out what coach had known.

No, he learned that the next fall, after running from monsters with Steve Harrington to keep a group of nerdy kids safe, overworking himself, vomiting on Steve’s shoes, and then bemoaning his lost magic in front of Dustin Henderson.

Who explained in detail how oxygen acclimatization worked.

—

If you didn’t know: when you live at high elevations, you get used to having less oxygen, so when you are suddenly at lower elevation, your body goes Woah! Free Oxygen! And you can do what Eddie did. It’s not permanent. A month or two if you don’t try to keep it, and it tapers off, but that’s more than enough time for Eddie to be a complete menace to the jocks. I know I was.

And obviously Steve thought this event was sexy, but he’s still with Nancy, and the boy is loyal. Eddie hates himself for not working to keep up his lung capacity the first time he and Steve hook up.

#my writing #eddie munson ficlet #steddie implied flirting?#not sure how to define that #didn’t reread or edit #write this in the tub #because work is insane

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maithefluffychicken · 10 months

Text

Happy Bottom Steve event everyone!

Porn without plot and without angst. Just fluff and smut. 6k words.

Paradise by the dasboard light.

Steve is good at pretending.

He always has been good at that: pretending to follow his father’s steps into a very profitable business career. Pretending to like Tommy H and Carol. Pretending to be popular, the most popular, the King.

Pretending to like girls.

It’s not- He likes girls, her soft bodies, her curves, her silky skin and soft moans. But it took him years and one Robin Buckley - and being tortured by Russians somehow related to the hellish nightmare that was the Upside Down, because what’s life without a little bit of trauma, right? - to stop pretending that Steve Harrington exclusively likes girls.

Not like Steve could do much about this new truth about himself, once he said it out loud to Robin when he was ready. Not with their lives hanging from a thread, and Vecna murdering their schoolmates, and the local freak, Eddie Munson, being wanted dead or alive for the townsfolk and joining the party.

No, Steve hadn’t had time to really think about what his sexuality implies or if he ever wanted to do something about it.

But now Vecna is defeated, the Upside Down is closed, Hawkins is being fixed north to south and side to side. Now life is returning to something close to normal.

Just, close to it.

“Haaaarrington!” Eddie storms inside the renewed Family Video, singsonging his name, and fuck, it shouldn’t make Steve’s belly tingle in interest. “Are you free this evening, big boy? Please, please, Harrington, tell me that you’re free.”

Maybe one day Steve will get used to Eddie’s flirtatious nature, but today is not that day. Flustered and feeling high, like Steve feels always that he has Eddie’s attention, turns to look at him, schooling his face into an annoying expression, before answering him.

“What do you want?” Steve asks dryly. It only makes Eddie’s grin wider, and Steve has to accept the fact that he wants to kiss him stupid.

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, are you in a mood? A cute girl rejected you today? Not that something like that could happen, you’re the cutest boy in the whole Indiana-”

Eddie always says shit like this, not noticing the inner turmoil he provokes in Steve every single time. The handsome bastard.

“Munson,” Steve warns him. Whatever Eddie is going to propose, Steve knows he’s going to say yes to him. Usually it’s something Henderson-related.

“I’m bored,” Eddie shrugs, hands on the counter in front of Steve, long, toned arms on display, all ink and scars. “It’s summer, I finally graduated, I have nothing to do and. You know, I thought maybe you’d want to go to Indy with me? There’s a new record store, Divinyl Records, want to check it out.”

The only sign that shows that Eddie is nervous is his rambling, it makes Steve feel a bit better.

“And I know you don’t like it, but I want to buy a new set of dice, Henderson asked me to buy another for him, too.”

There it is, the Henderson-related excuse they both seem to need to hang out together. Steve is happy to have Dustin in common with Eddie, but he wishes they didn’t need any other excuse to spend time togther.

Steve feigns to think about it for a second, glaring at Eddie and sighing exaggeratedly before agreeing.

“I’ll pick you up when I finish here, around noon,” Steve says, trying to hold his own silly smile when Eddie beams at him, dimples included, and fists his right hand in victory. Steve eyes the way his forearm flexes and how his ridiculous rings shine under the artificial light of the store.

“Yes, Stevie! I knew I could count on you!” He exclaims, and a few customers turn to look at them, but Steve couldn’t care less, not when Eddie is reaching to pat Steve’s hand on the counter, leaving Steve’s skin prickling with need wherever Eddie’s long, warm fingers caresses his own. “See you at noon, then.”

Eddie turns and leaves Steve alone, flustered and with butterflies flying in his stomach, battering their wings furiously inside him.

Steve calls Robin to cover him, because if it’s true that he’s free in the evening, he very much wants to take a shower and to brush his teeth compulsively before picking Eddie.

It’s not a date, and Steve knows that, but that doesn’t mean Steve has to meet Eddie with his armpits stinking after eight working in a store with a barely working AC, and if he uses his favorite cologne and styles his hair with even more care than usual… Fuck it, ok? Steve puts it on his best polo, the one that makes his shoulders look broader, and the tightest Levi’s he owns.

He really doubts Eddie is, well, like him. He has seen Eddie around girls, he’s a flirt, just as he is with Steve. But that’s - just because he’s a tease. Eddie doesn’t flirt with Gareth or Jeff, his best friends. And he doesn’t flirt with Jonathan nor Argyle, either. This thing Eddie has with Steve, this flirting, is just their trauma-related shared bond or whatever.

And yet, Steve can’t help but smile when he picks up Eddie from the new house he shares with Wayne, a little gift from Uncle Sam’s government after the whole Upside Down fiasco.

“Ah, to be in the infamous Beemer with the king in person, what a high honor!” Eddie banters the moment he sits in the passenger’s seat. “And it smells good, wait.”

Eddie leans into him and Steve feels himself blushing fiercely, tries half heartedly to push him away before turning on the car.

“Man, you smell good,” Eddie sniffs the air. “No way!”

“What?” Steve can’t help but smile. Eddie is gorgeous and is grinning at him and he likes how Steve’s smells.

“Did you take a shower for me?” Eddie is beaming at him, and Steve wants- He just wants. He laughs, feeling caught red handed.

“I took a shower because it’s fucking summer and it was disgusting, I was disgusting,” Steve says.

“I doubt that,” Eddie answers him, leaning in his seat and looking through the open window. “I bet even your sweat smells fucking good.”

Steve dares to glance at him, sure that his face is showing how flustered and aroused he is just because, well, Eddie. Thankfully, the reason for his half hard cock is now resting with his eyes closed, enjoying the wind and the sun bathing his skin, being beautiful and relaxed. It’s good to see him like this, Steve wishes he could watch Eddie like this more often.

Their evening together is. Fuck, it’s perfect. It’s probably the best date Steve has ever had, even if it’s not a date.

They spend their good time at Divinyl Records, bantering and bickering about everything. Eddie’s tastes, Steve’s taste, what they both like, what they both hate. Eddie is delighted to learn that Steve actually loves Queen, his eyes bright when they talk about it. Steve doesn’t want to read into it, but hope is free, right?

Eddie squeaks when he finds something he wants, one of Meatloaf’s vinyl, Bat Out of Hell, saying that it’s very on point, that he feels exactly like that, and he traces the ink of his arm, the bats he has tattooed there. The record’s cover is red and orange. It shows a man on a hellish motorbike, flying high after storming, well, out of hell, a giant demonic bat left behind. Steve wonders if Eddie feels like the man in the cover, avoiding Death and escaping Hell, or, in their own experience, the Upside Down.

“Man, I wish I had a record player at my home,” Eddie says wistfully, admiring the cover. “Have you ever listened to him? It’s- It’s not metal but it’s like, rock, and potent, and-” Eddie sighs, leaving the record in its place. “Anyway, I have it on tape already.”

Eddie smiles at Steve, shrugging, and leaves to search in the other boxes. Steve takes the record, Bat Out of Hell, already decided to buy it for Eddie, a plan forming in his mind. He has an absurdly big, fancy record player at his home, and it’d be a great excuse to have Eddie around more often.

They both end up buying some tapes, and Steve puts the record to buy it, too, under Eddie’s confused glare.

“Steve, what-?” Eddie asks when Steve puts Meatloaf’s record in Eddie’s plastic bag.

“I have a record player, you can come whenever you want to hear this or whatever other record,” Steve says, ignoring the way his cheeks - and his whole body - are burning. This silly thing seems to be too revealing, somehow, as if Steve were admitting out loud how much he wants Eddie.

But the metalhead is simply gawking at him, pink lips half parted, his doe eyes so big and bright that Steve doesn’t really know what to do when Eddie is looking at him.

“Stevie- I,” Eddie’s voice quivers softly. “Are you sure? I’ll be there like, all the time, just- camp in your living room and listen to music non-stop, like, forever. You won’t get rid of me.”

Do it, Steve thinks, chest heaving. Do it, come live with me, sleep in my bed, never leave my life. Take all of me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure,” Steve laughs a bit too loud. “Whatever you say, man, just, accept it? As a gift?”

“Fuck, yeah, Harrington, thank you!” Eddie is buzzing with pent up energy, holding the bag against his chest, smiling openly and closing the distance with Steve, as if he was thinking about hugging him or-

“Of course,” Steve smiles, swallowing his deception when Eddie stops suddenly, taking a step back. He needs to get a grip on reality, and soon, or Eddie’s antics are going to kill him. “Let’s go.”

It’s still the best date Steve has ever had, after that. It’s easy to laugh with Eddie, to forget everything else when Eddie is retelling some incredible story, talking with his hands as much as with his deep, baritone voice, and Steve is transfixed by his whole persona.

Eddie buys a few things for his next campaign, excited because Baby Byers are joining them at last.

“You should try, Steve, just give it a chance!” Eddie says excitedly, and winking an eye to Steve, he shoves a small box against Steve’s chest. “Those are what you need to start, if you ever want to give me- give us a chance. To play DnD! That’s it!”

Steve opens the box to see a brand new set of dice, shiny yellow, all for him. Just for Steve, because Eddie wants him to play DnD with them all.

“I will,” Steve breathes, deeply touched.

“I know we’re a bunch of freaks and that you’re far too cool for us, you know, biting the head off a demobat and all that-,” Eddie keeps rambling, nervously hiding his face behind a strand of dark hair. Steve shouldn’t find him this charming, but here he is, once again holding himself back to not kiss Eddie senseless.

“Eddie, I will!” Steve laughs, interrupting him, resting his hand in Eddie’s warm, heaving chest to calm him. Through the well worn fabric of his shirt, Steve can feel the rabbit-like beating of Eddie’s heart. “I’ll join you all, but it’ll be my first time, be gentle with me, ok?”

Eddie makes a throaty sound at that, something like a strangled ngk!, and his eyes widen impossibly, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll be, fuck, baby, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” Eddie whispers back, taking a step forward, hands hovering over Steve’s hips.

It’d be so easy for any of them to simply lean in and press their lips together in a kiss. Steve has no doubts, this is not just Eddie’s flirtatious character, it can’t be. They’re so close, their mouths mere inches apart, just-

Someone clears their throat nearby, and just like that, the spell is broken and the moment, gone. Steve retires his hand from Eddie’s chest as if it burnt him, and Eddie jumps backwards, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“It’s still soon,” Steve says, not looking at Eddie’s eyes. “Want to eat something before heading back to Hawkins?”

Clouds of a summer storm curl in the sky the moment Steve and Eddie find a greasy joint that smells good enough to entice them, and they order two burgers with fries and cherry coke for Steve and vanilla milkshake for Eddie.

It’s- so much, in the best sense of the word.

They’re laughing and talking loud to be heard over the blasting music, their mouths full and it should be disgusting. It is. Steve would never dare to be like this in front of anyone else - not another guy and definitely not in front of a girl -, it’s like being a kid again, that kind of freedom.

Except that Steve doesn’t remember feeling this hunger, this raw, visceral need for any of his friends before. Steve wants to jump on Eddie’s lap and swallow him whole and be swallowed by him.

There’s this invisible energy between them, buzzing restless and igniting every one of Steve’s nerves, a low thrum nestled deep in his belly. Eddie seems to not be able to stop looking at Steve, not since they almost kissed before. Now it’s like a physical force pulling at them, tugging at them together. Strong as gravity. Inevitable.

In a dazed moment of craziness, where everything could go terribly wrong or wonderfully right, Steve decides to test the waters. He takes off one of his Adidas with the other foot, and while Eddie is talking about god knows why, Steve reaches to caress his calf with his bare feet under the table.

Eddie goes silent, his eyes bulging, completely flabbergasted. For a terrifying second, Steve is sure that Eddie is going to stop him, to spit at him a cruel what the fuck are you doing?!. Steve bites his lower lip in fear, and starts to lower his feet, when Eddie finally speaks up.

“Harrington,” he mumbles weakly. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Steve smirks at him,euphoric. This is not a fucking hopeless fantasy, this is happening, and it’s absurd. He copied this move from a girl he dated once, she was wearing lovely low heels with a strap around his ankle, and it was very exciting. They were in a fancy restaurant with actual tablecloth to hide what was happening undeer the table.

Instead, he’s wearing socks, and he’s far from being a pretty girl, but Eddie is looking at him in awe, his cheeks beet red and his breath uneven. Because of Steve. Fuck, this is how a girl feels when flirting with Steve like this?

Steve gets bolder, and traces with his feet Eddie’s long leg, caresses his thigh. He wants to whine when Eddie spreads his legs wider in a silent invitation. The metalhead is looking at him with a wild expression on his face, one hand holding the edge of the table for dear life. The other hand, Eddie sneaks it under the table, wraps his long fingers around Steve’s ankle.

“We should talk,” Steve says, feeling deliriously high, his cock more than half hard now, straining his cotton boxers.

I“What?” Eddie asks, distracted, drawing circles with his thumb in Steve’s ankle. “Harrington, are you sending me mixed signals? Because I can’t focus right now-”

Steve has to laugh, shaking his head, and taking the chance to prod with his toes at Eddie’s crotch, pride swelling his chest when he feels Eddie’s cock throb at the attention received. Steve’s own dick twitches in empathy. Fuck, this is the most exciting thing Steve has ever done.

“No, dipshit,” Steve snorts. “Just talk, make it like nothing is happening.”

“Stevie, baby, nothing is actually happening here,” Eddie grits between his teeth, his knuckles gripping the table so hard they turned white. “And that’s how I’m going to die. Here lies Eddie Munson, Steve the Tease Harrington killed him.”

“Shut up, I’m not a tease,” Steve smirks, even if he’s now stroking the clothed length of Eddie with his toes, wishing there were nothing between them. Not a fucking table, not clothes.

“You’re not?” Eddie asks, dead serious now. His eyes pleading at Steve, brows pinched. “You’re not just teasing me for some twisted joke?”

His voice. Steve knows he’ll remember his pained, vulnerable voice forever. For the first time in months, Steve thinks that maybe, just maybe, Eddie has been feeling just the same way about him.

That thought makes his head spin and his mouth dry.

“I would never joke about something like this, Eds,” Steve says. “We should… pay, maybe? You can spend the night at my home?”

A myriad of microexpressions take over Eddie’s face then, Steve can’t barely read them all, but then Eddie smiles at him, nodding sharply and squeezing Steve’s ankle just once before taking it off his twitching cock.

“I’ll need a dew minutes before, you know,” he smiles shyly, and Steve grins at him.

“Yeah, me too.”

Silently, because it’s the summer of ‘86 and neither of them want to start a riot in the middle of Nowhere, Indiana, they manage to keep their hands to themselves, jumping into the Beemer in silence.

Eddie’s leg is now bouncing up and down restlessly, trying to decide what of their new tapes to put in to listen to some music. Steve couldn’t care less, turning the engine on and revving up, wanting nothing more than to reach home and get inside with Eddie.

Fuck.

A guitar riff starts playing and Eddie plays the air as if he were playing the guitar. Long fingers caressing the invisible neck of his imaginary guitar, rings clinking softly, his head moving along, his curls bouncing. Steve always admired how freely and unabashed Eddie is, even if the boy admitted to him that most of it is just a facade he used to put on to mask how much of a coward he was.

“So,” Eddie says at last, looking at the big, dark clouds that cover the dusky sky.

“So,” Steve repeats.

“You weren’t just teasing, back at the diner?” Eddie asks, and tugs at his curls playfully.

That tension between them is still there, crackling in the space between them like electricity.

“Not teasing,” Steve promises, and shoots a smile at Eddie. “I meant it there and I mean it now, Eddie.”

“You want this,” Eddie’s index finger points at them both vaguely. “You want this to happen, then.”

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Y-yes, Eddie, I-,” Steve has to take a deep breath, to focus on the driving and on his confession. “I’m tired of not having enough excuses to hang out with you more often. Fuck that, I’m tired of needing excuses, Eddie. Do you want this? Do you want this too?”

Eddie answers by putting his hand on top of Steve’s thigh, nails scratching the denim softly before squeezing the soft flesh.

“Ah, fuck,” Steve whimpers at the sudden sensation, the wave of aroussal rippling through his whole body.

“I don’t remember not wanting this with you, baby,” Eddie says, voice so soft and vulnerable that it feels like a punch in Steve’s guts. “I’ve been obsessed with you since I saw you in the boat house, making that soft ah for me.”

“Fuck you,” Steve snaps without heat. “You were threatening me with a fucking broken bottle.”

“Yeah, and it was the weirdest boner of my life, Steve-o,” Eddie grins. “So hard and fat and leaking because of your little moan.”

Eddie leans into Steve again, invading his personal space completely as he does often, but now his hand is so close to Steve’s groin that it makes him feel dizzy. Steve knows Eddie is teasing him now, he knows Eddie was far too terrified that awful night to even pop a boner then, but fuck if the image of Eddie’s cock, hard and leaking beacuse of Steve doesn’t make his toes curl.

“Shut up, Munson,” Steve laughs, but spreads his legs wider so Eddie can grab his bulge through his jeans. Eddie doesn’t do that, the bastard. He sits back on his seat like a normal person and grins. His hot palm is still on Steve’s thigh, though, driving him crazy.

“Or what?” Eddie snaps at him playfully,

“Or I won’t let you fuck me when we come home,” Steve threats him. Eddie gasps, feigns being offended, but Steve can see his smile from the corner of his eye. It’s the weakest threat Steve could do, knowing that they’re both stupidly horny.

“That’s cruel of you,” Eddie pouts. His fingers start drawing circles on Steve’s thigh, and it’s an interesting sensation, lust and need mixed with the tender fondness Eddie inspires him.

It feels like every step they’re doing is, in fact, a leap of faith. As if the smallest detail could break this bubble they’re in, now. Steve lets go of the wheel with one hand so he can tangle his fingers with Eddie’s. The metalhead doesn’t look at him, he’s once again hiding his face behind his curtain of dark curls, but squeezes Steve’s hand and thumbs over his knuckles.

It’s not a kiss. Fuck, they haven’t kissed yet and Steve is thirsty for him. But it’s good, it’s somehow better, because this means something. This means that it matters, that is not only their horniness.

Steve lets himself hope for once.

They drive in silence, big fat drops falling from the darkening sky, and it’s peaceful for a while. Steve loves to drive, and driving under the rain it’s kind of romantic. Eddie seems to relax by his side, he’s quiet for once and his hand is still intertwined with Steve’s.

“Thanks for today,” Steve blurts. “For asking me to come with you, it’s been- I had fun.”

Eddie grins lazily at him. “My, my, King Steve, is this one of your moves?”

“What? No, fuck, I just wanted to be honest,” Steve frowns at Eddie, rain falling more heavily every passing ssecond.

Eddie sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he shrugs. “I don’t know how to do any of this, actually.”

“What?”

“You know. This felt like a date from the start, and I wanted it to be a date, I just-,” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess, you’re right, I’m tired of needing a silly excuse to be with you, and yet you bought me the record-”

“Yeah, and you gave me a dice set,” Steve interrupts him.

“Hm,” Eddie hums. “I’m just nervous. Never had a date. Was this a date?”

“It can be a date if you want it to be,” Steve says. “I want it to be a date, that’s why I’m driving us home now, like-”

“To seal the deal?” Eddie snorts.

“No. Yes. I don’t know! Maybe.”

“King Steve is nervous?” The metalhead teases him.

“I think I’m always nervous when you’re around,” Steve confesses.

“Fuck, me too, sweetheart,” Eddie laughs openly now. “I think I’m gonna fuck it up somehow, I’m terrified, that’s why I’m being a dick.”

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse for being a dick every day, Munson?”

They both laugh freely, the banter flowing easily, and Steve breathes out relieved that their friendship is not going to be ruined by this. He lifts their joined hands so he can kiss Eddie’s knuckles, and the metalhead groans softly, surprised and pleased.

Their joy lasts just a few more minutes. The sky is completely black now and it’s pouring with rage, Steve can barely see shit on the road.

“Fuck this rain,” Steve complains. “I think we should find a spot to stop and wait for a while.”

“There’s a dead end nearby, I used it a lot before for… Well, you know. We can wait there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

It takes them a while to find the dead end Eddie knows, with Steve’s slow driving and the non-stop rain. Thankfully there are no cars, and when they find the place where Eddie used to sell, Steve stops the car and turns off the lights, leaving the music on. The rain clatters around them.

They’re finally alone. Well, they’ve been alone since they got into the car, but Steve was busy driving. Now they’re alone and nothing is distracting them. When Steve looks at Eddie, he knows that they both are thinking the same thing.

They’re alone, in the car, no one is crazy enough to be driving under this rain, and there’s only the dashboard light illuminating them.

And then, it happens. Both of them launching to each other and meeting in the middle in a searing kiss, teeth clacking and noses bumping, but who cares. They readjust a bit and then they’re properly kissing, and it’s fucking good. Not what Steve is accustomed to, Eddie’s stubble rasps Steve’s chin, but his lips are plush and soft and warm. His long fingers are on Steve’s jaw, tracing it blindly, while Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shirt, tugging at him desperately.

“Fuck, Stevie, I was dying to do that.”

“Please, stop saying things like you’re dying, I can’t stand that, Eds-”

Eddie kisses him softly now, as an apology.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Eddie says, and starts trailing kisses down Steve’s neck. “I’ve been dreaming with this for so long, fuck, I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Hng, Eddie,” Steve whimpers, closing his eyes and letting himself feel. Eddie's hot breath on his neck, his hands roaming down his spine. Steve’s fingers tangling in Eddie’s curls.

“Can’t believe you want this, too, holy fuck, Stevie,” Eddie’s hands find the hem of his polo and sneak underneath, Steve’s abs shiver at the contact.

“I want you so badly, Eddie,” Steve mumbles. “I thought you were just playing or whatever, fuck, if I knew I’d have taken you on a date sooner.”

“Shit, Steve, really?” Eddie lifts his head to look at Steve, caresses his lips with his thumb, and Steve opens his mouth instinctively. “Fuck, Steve, I don’t think I can wait until we got home, baby, I need you.”

Steve moans wantonly at that, his own cock twitching needily.

“How do you want me?” Eddie asks, cradling Steve’s face softly in his hands and peppering it with kisses. It’s thrilling, knowing that someone, Eddie, wants him. and wants this to be good for Steve. It’s good to be the receiving part of all this attention.

“Would you-,” Steve has to take a deep breath to ask for what he wants. Something he has been thinking about for a long time now. But this is Eddie. Eddie, who wants him too. Eddie, his friend, maybe so much more than that from now on. “Would you fuck me?”

“Jesus Chr-, fuck, yes Stevie, whatever you want, baby,” Eddie says, his voice muffled with Steve’s lips as he leans in to kiss him again. “Everything.”

They shift and move around until they’re sprawled more or less comfortably on the Beemer’s backseat. Steve underneath Eddie’s lean body, their legs tangled together and their fully clothed cocks rubbing against each other. Panting and moaning wantonly until the windows start to fog with their shared heat.

“You’re so hot, Harrington, what the fuck,” Eddie complains, pressing their foreheads together and rolling his hips.

“Harrington? Really? When you’re about to fuck me?”

“Do you prefer if I call you sweetheart?” Eddie asks, and bites Steve’s pulse. Steve moans, baring his neck. “Or baby?” Another bite, a little bit lower. “Mi amor?”

“Ah, fuck, Eddie,” Steve arches his back, needing more. Needing everything Eddie would want to give him.

“Stevie, Stevie, darling, we’re wearing too many clothes, can we like, get rid of all our clothes right now?”

“Yes, yes, fuck!”

They undress quickly, caressing and nipping at every new inch of skin they can reach, until they’re finally bare. It’s kind of a shame that Steve can’t really enjoy the sight of Eddie with no shirt and unzipped jeans, but he’s hopeful, maybe he can ask Eddie later, when they’re at home. But they’re naked at last, and Eddie is, in fact, enjoying Steve’s body.

“Fuck, Stevie, why are you so hot?” Eddie says, and buries his face in Steve’s chest, pushing at his pecs and sniffing deeply. “Man, I wanna live here now, in your muscled tits, look at all that haaair.”

Steve laughs, his hands on Eddie’s hair again. “You’re so silly.”

“I just,” Eddie snorts. “You know, I’ve never been a boobs guy until I saw yours. I’m so happy this is happening.”

Eddie braces on his arms again so they can kiss again, and again, while their hands explore freely down their bodies. Steve palms Eddie’s scars tenderly, worshiping them, incredibly grateful that Eddie left the Upside down with just these scars. The proof that he’s alive.

Steve feels his heart clenching at that thought, and while that well known lump forms again in his throat, he realizes that he doesn’t have a silly crush on Eddie Munson. No, not at all. Steve is in love with him.

“I’m happy too, Eds, please,” Steve pleads, voice trembling and wet.

“Stevie,” Eddie whispers, settling between Steve’s legs, stroking his thighs soothingly, fingers tracing the shape of his cock, following his vein until he reaches the gland, pressing the underside with his thumb. It’s dry and gentle and Steve can’t hold back the whine that escapes his mouth. “Fuck, baby, so responsive, are you always like this?”

Steve shakes his head sharply, trying to find the words.

“N-no,” and fuck, he’s not lying. He feels like he has cheated on every girl he has made out with, every girl he took to bed, because it never felt this good, it never felt like this raw need. This is all Eddie. “Not like this.”

“Fuck.”

Steve wants to do so much more, he wants to worship Eddie, but the metalhead is determined to ruin him for everyone else, it seems.

“Have you ever been with another dude?”

“You’re the first,” Steve says, honesty making him blush, feeling like a virgin. To some extent, he is a virgin, he’s about to do something he never allowed himself to think about until - Eddie.

“Steve,” Eddie sighs. “Steve, look at me, please.”

Steve obeys, vulnerable and helpless. Eddie’s big eyes are searching in his face for some ineffable answer, Steve hopes he finds it.

“Baby, do you want it to be like this? With me?” Eddie’s own vulnerability actually helps, it makes Steve braver, for them both. Steve drags Eddie down for a deep kiss before answering him.

“I want you, right here, right now,” Steve reassures him. “And I’ll probably want you again when we get home, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow.”

“Stevie-”

“If you’ll have me, Eds, I want you everyday.”

Eddie groans at his words, his face red and his whole body trembling atop Steve while they kiss.

“Every fucking day, baby, ever fucking day.”

Eddie kisses one last time before spitting in his fingers, and Steve holds his breath when he sees Eddie’s hand disappearing between his legs, his own cock leaking like a fountain, aching.

The first drag of Eddie’s index finger against his rim is slick and soft, it surprises him even if he was expecting it. Eddie prods at it, slicking it, until the tip catches on it and he pushes forward, making Steve grunt.

“Relax, baby,” Eddie says, caressing Steve’s soft, inner thigh with his free hand. “If I knew, I'd have brought lube.”

“It’s ok, just keep going, Eddie, please,” Steve begs, looking at Eddie, taking in his lean body, the ink that decorates it, his long cock hanging proud between his legs, hard and fat and leaking for him as he promised earlier.

Eddie takes its time, and a lot of saliva, opening Steve, fucking him with his fingers as if his life depends on it. Steve braces himself wherever he can, panting wantonly and wondering why he never put his fingers up his hole. It feels fucking incredible, with Eddie’s chunky rings prodding at his entrance. His arms flexing, his abs shivering. Fucking hot, Steve thinks, half hystericall. So hot and he’s going to fuck me.

“Stevie, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, kissing Steve’s knee. “Baby, do you have condoms?”

Steve fumbles blindly, he knows he has condoms in his car, he just doesn’t remember where, and hopes they’re ok. After a few seconds, Steve finally grabs the box, opens it and gives one to Eddie, who is grinning wolfishly at him.

He watches as Eddie rolls the condom down his cock, stroking himself a few times to full hardness. It’s a pretty cock, longer than he expected and thick, uncut, and he can’t wait to have it inside of him.

“You ready, love?” Eddie asks him, his voice deep and rough with arousal. Steve can only nod. “Tell me if it doesn’t feel good, ok?”

“Have you done this?” Steve asks, a pang of jealousy hitting him out of the blue.

“Not too much, if I’m honest with you,” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “It’s been almost a year since the last time. “Is that- You ok with that? I’m not like, experienced or-”

“Shut up and fuck me, fucknut,” Steve begs roughly, lifting his hips, and Eddie laughs,

“Bossy, bossy, sweetheart.”

Steve wants to retort, but then Eddie’s cockhead is pushing against his rim and breaching him and it’s-

It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s everything Steve can think about now because Eddie’s cock is opening him deliciously, the stretch burns a little but Eddie is going so tenderly slow that Steve wants to scream.

“Fu-uck, Steve, you’re so tight,” Eddie moans, arms trembling at either side of Steve’s head. “I bet you’ve never played with your little hole before, huh?”

Eddie’s words go directly to Steve’s cock, dripping precum and forming a puddle on his belly. He shakes his head, whimpering.

“Holy fuck, Stevie, baby, you’re so hot and wet, you’re swallowing me, so fucking good, does it feel good for you too?”

“So good, Eddie, please, please.”

Eddie bottoms out and stays still for a moment, kisses Steve sloppily and lets him adjust to this new, intrusive sensation.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

“I’m so full, Eddie,” Steve manages to moan, arms wrapping around Eddie’s neck. “So fucking full, like, I can feel you in my throat full.”

Eddie laughs at that, his cock twitches inside Steve, and they both pant at it. Eddie’s hips roll backwards just as slowly, and the slick slide of his cock is enough to drive Steve insane, until he pushes forward again in a long. fluid and quicker thrust, and Steve wails.

“More, more, Eddie, more!” He demands, already addicted to this.

“Fuck, yes, Stevie my love,” Eddie mumbles, thrusting in a little bit harder, a little deeper, while Steve scratches his back desperately.

Eddie fucks him a little sloppily, but he does roll his hips artfully and aims for something, changing the angle from time to time. It’s good, it’s so good and Steve feels so good, he feels floaty and safe. He loves the slide in and out, the drag of Eddie’s cock, how it presses against his inner walls.

And then Eddie changes the angle again, pushing Steve’s legs further against his chest, and bucks his hips in. His cock presses inside Steve against some fucking magnificent spot that makes him scream his pleasure, fingers curling around Eddie’s curls and tugging at them, trying to groudn himself and failing but never wanting Eddie to stop.

“Fuck, Eddie, fuck me there, there, holy fucking- don’t stop, Eds, right there!” He yells nonsensically, and Eddie grins at him.

“There?” He asks, aiming for the same spot as before, and Steve can feel tears stinging his eyes, maybe rolling down his cheeks, he doesn’t know.

“Eddie, Eds, more, more, mo- ah, shit!”

The metalhead has a great aiming, once he has found that little spot, because now he’s hitting on it with every single thrust, and he obeys and fucks Steve as he requested, abusing of Steve’s sweet spot and making him wail every time.

“Stevie, Steve baby, I’m not- Fuck, I’m not gonna last, you’re so fucking loud and you feel so good, fuck me, Steve, you’re perfect, I want to come like this, please, let me come, Steve, please baby, tell me you’re close because I need to come insdie you-”

Eddie’s desperate pleas and thrusts push Steve towards the edge. He tries to sneak a hand between their bodies to touch himself, but Eddie buries himself deep inside him and grinds, stroking Steve’s sweet spot and that’s it.

His whole body shivers and trembles when his orgasm hits him, so different from the one he’s used to, so much more intense and earth-shattering. He thinks he wails, but he can’t be sure because he blacks out for a second. He comes back to a cursing Eddie, thrusting inside him unevenly and wildy, babbling non-sense and praise to Steve.

“Oh my fucking- God, Steve, you just came untouched, holy fuck, Stevie, that’s so hot, I can’t believe how hot you are. Holy shit, you’re so tight, I can feel you clenching all around me, fuck fuck fuck, Steve, I want to fuck you again and again, oh my- Oh fuck, yes, I’m gonna-”

Steve moans when Eddie thrusts in one last time and starts grinding, flushing their hips together and groaning, eyes shutted down and face contorted in pleasure, lips bitten red and skin shining with sweat.

He lets himself plop over Steve’s body, smearing the already cooling come between them. Not like Steve cares at all, he simply hugs Eddie and caresses his back soothingly until Eddie comes back down from his orgasm.

“Holy- Jesus Christ, Steve, so hot,” Eddie says with a weak thread of voice. “Steve, baby, please tell me it was good for you too, because I’m a fucking changed man, dude, I saw the light I swear.”

“Dude,” Steve snorts, and that makes Eddie’s softening cock twitch inside him still.

Eddie kisses him lazily, messily, and it’s perfect, they both are smiling, feeling sated and sticky and Steve needs a shower, but he’s happy. Oh, so fucking happy.

“Stevie.”

“Hm?”

“It was good for you too?” Again that need or reassurance. Steve holds Eddie tight against him.

“Eddie, it was fucking amazing, I didn’t know I could come just like, without touching my fucking cock,” Steve reassures him, Eddie lets out a satisfied hum. “I can’t wait for you to do this to me again.”

Eddie looks at him, eyes hopeful and wonderfully alive.

“You still want me to stay at your place tonight?”

“Eds,” Steve kisses the tip of his nose. “I don’t want you to leave my side at all, baby.”

Eddie’s wide grin is everything, bathed by the dim bulb of the dashboard light, and Steve thinks that he has seen paradise tonight, just here in his beemer, under the rain.

#bottom steve event #bottom steve harrington #top eddie munson #steve loves eddie #eddie loves steve #steddie fanfiction #steddie

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mariacallous · 14 days

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NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) — Tennessee would join the ranks of states where public school employees have to out transgender students to their parents under a bill advancing in the Republican-supermajority Legislature.

GOP House lawmakers gave near-final passage to the bill on Monday, putting Tennessee just a few hurdles away from joining states such as Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Idaho, Indiana and North Carolina with similar laws. Virginia has such guidance for school boards, as well. The bill goes back for another vote in the Senate, which had already passed a version of it, before it can go to Gov. Bill Lee’s desk for his signature.

The bill’s progression comes as Tennessee Republican lawmakers have established the state as one of the most eager to pass policies aimed at the LGBTQ+ community as Republicans pursue legislation nationwide.

During Monday’s limited but heated House floor hearing, Democrats took turns alleging that their Republican colleagues were constantly finding new ways to bully LGBTQ+ kids.

“These are the most vulnerable kids in our state who are just trying to make it out of middle school alive,” said Democratic Rep. Aftyn Behn. “And we are weaponizing their identities instead of actually passing bills that help Tennesseans.”

Audible gasps could be heard from the public galleries when the bill’s sponsor, Republican Rep. Mary Littleton, argued that the legislation was needed so parents could know if their student would need therapy.

“I feel like the parents, they have the right to know what’s happening in the school with their children,” Littleton said. “And I also think that possibly they could get that child some therapy that could help them solve their problems and make their way through school.”

Littleton also confirmed she did not speak to any transgender students before introducing the proposal but said some teachers had told her that they did not want the responsibility of having such information.

According to the legislation that passed Monday, school employees would be required to pass on information about a student to an administrator, who would have to tell the parent. That includes a student asking for action to affirm their gender identity, such as using a different name or pronoun.

However, the bill also would allow parents or the state’s attorney general to sue if they felt the school district was not following this new law.

The proposal is just one of several targeting the LGBTQ+ community over the years.

Earlier this year, Tennessee Republicans passed a measure that would allow LGBTQ+ foster children to be placed with families that hold anti-LGBTQ+ beliefs. Gov. Lee signed the bill into law last week. Lawmakers are still considering criminalizing adults who help minors receive gender-affirming care without parental consent.

Meanwhile, Tennessee Republicans have banned gender-affirming care for most minors, attempted to limit events where certain drag performers may appear, and allow, but not require, LGBTQ+ children to be placed with families that hold anti-LGBTQ+ beliefs.

In schools, they already have approved legal protections for teachers who do not use a transgender student’s preferred pronoun, restricted transgender athletes, limited transgender students’ use of bathrooms aligning with their gender identity and allowed parents to opt students out of classroom conversations about gender and sexuality.

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fourtccn · 1 year

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rating every state’s motto

alabama: “audemus jura nostra defendere”, trans. “we dare to defend our rights.” 4/10, not the worst but i don’t think it needs to be said. bit pretentious

alaska: “north to the future.” 7/10, i think it’s cool but i have no clue what it really means. higher points for not being religious (i think)

arizona: “ditat deus”, trans. “God enriches.” 0/10, keep that guy out of it

arkansas: “regnat populus,” trans. “the people rule.” 8/10, simple, love the idea, think it’s a great standing

california: “eureka”, trans. “I have found it.” 1/10, found WHAT???

colorado: “nil sine numine”, trans. “nothing without providence.” 0/10, i had to look up what this means and it is religious again

connecticut: “qui transtulit sustinet”, trans. “he who transplanted sustains.” -1/10, not only is this religious but it’s also not openly religious. pure evil

delaware: “liberty and independence.” 7/10, it’s boring, but it’s something

florida: “in God we trust.” 0/10, come on man

georgia: “wisdom, justice, moderation.” 6/10, sure

hawaii: “ua ma uke ea o ka ‘āina I ka pono,” trans. “the life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness.” 10/10, yes!!! has something to do with their history!! it’s badass! makes me feel cool as hell to say!!

idaho: “esto perpetua”, trans. “let it be perpetual.” 1/10, it’s not religious and it is historical but i don’t like that it’s connected with the confederacy :/ (quoted from the president of the confederacy btw)

illinois: “state sovereignty, national union.” 0/10, directly associated with states’ rights to choose during the civil war

indiana: “the crossroads of america.” 7/10, i like that it’s more descriptive of the state than the government and it’s really funny to me that they identify like this. it’s like your friend doing something amazing and you going “you couldn’t have gotten there without me driving you to 7/11 that one time”

iowa: “our liberties we prize and our rights we will maintain.” 6/10, i want to dislike this one because it’s so middle-of-the-road, but it does have some state history behind it (has to do with their fight to become a state) so it gets some points for that

kansas: “ad astra per aspera”, trans. “to the stars through difficulties.” 9/10, cool, connected to what they said about the state in its history, seemingly unreligious. point docked for it going to kansas and therefore being a bit pretentious more than anything

kentucky: “deo graham habeamus”, trans. “let us be grateful to God” AND “united we stand, divided we fall.” 0/10, why do they get TWO??? first one is religious, and the second one is unoriginal. if it were just the second one i would give it the benefit of the doubt but come on

louisiana: “union, justice, and confidence.” 4/10, i don’t think louisiana should be confident about anything but i do appreciate self-love

maine: “dirigo”, trans. “i direct.” 5/10, more than california because it’s slightly less confusing but i really don’t know what they mean by this

maryland: “fatti maschi, parole femmine”, trans. “strong deeds, gentle words.” 9/10, i fucking love this. i know very little of maryland so i’ll let them have this

massachusetts: “ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem”, trans. “by the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty.” 8/10, it’s sick as fuck but massachusetts is a bit pretentious just taking this shit from someone else with no reason

michigan: “si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice”, trans. “if you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you.” 9/10, this fucks. i love a motto dedicated just to the land. point docked because i do not feel the way this way when in michigan

minnesota: “l’étoile du nord”, trans. “the star of the north.” 7/10, cool that it acknowledges minnesota being the “northstar state” since it’s the northernmost state, but i don’t like that it’s in french. also kind of pretentious of us tbh

mississippi: “virtute et armis”, trans. “by valor and arms.” 2/10, cool if you’re a 7-year-old boy. if it’s based off the motto of lord gray de wilton they should’ve kept it “i trust in virtue not arms”

missouri: there are way too many states. anyway. “salus populi suprema lex esto”, trans. “the welfare of the people is the highest law.” 10/10, period!! i don’t think missouri stands by this tho

montana: “oro y plata”, trans. “gold and silver.” 6/10, i have to give it points for being a physical description of the state and also being historical (big mining state), but they really put all their coins in one bag with this one

nebraska: “equality before the law.” 10/10, apparently reflects nebraska’s “willingness to extend suffrage to black Americans” so it’s good state history and i love what it stands for. keep it up nebraska (i know you won’t)

nevada: “all for our country.” 5/10, really have any historical importance, and it’s a bit vague. what is it that you’re doing for “our country?” what does “all” imply? really think they just threw something together last minute

new hampshire: “live free or die.” 9/10, sick as fuck and grounded in history. iconic is an overused word, but i gotta say this is iconic. metal as hell. point docked because it’s too associated with some weird political standings now

new jersey: “liberty and prosperity.” 6/10, boring as hell but sure. whatever

new mexico: “crescit eundo”, trans. “it grows as it goes.” 9/10, quote taken from a poem which is cool and i love that it makes me think of dick :)

new york: “excelsior!”, trans. “ever upward!” AND “e pluribus unum”, trans. “out of many, one” (as of 2020). 6/10, i was with kinda with them on the first one even though it seems like something they added last minute because i liked the excitement in it but the second one is kind of dumb… yeah, i guess you are one of many. feels like an obvious statement they didn’t need to add on in 2020

north carolina: “esse quam videri”, trans. “to be, rather than to seem.” 4/10, i think it’s okay but i don’t know what it has to do with north carolina

north dakota: “liberty and union, now and forever, one and inseparable.” 6/10, cool reference to U.S. history but it’s kind of a mouthful and i don’t think i would be able to memorize it

ohio: “with God, all things are possible.” 1/10, one point given because it makes me think of the iasip quote

oklahoma: “labor omnia vincit”, trans. “hard work conquers all things.” 4/10, once again i like that it’s a reference, but i have no clue what oklahoma has to do with this motto

oregon: “alis volat propriis”, trans. “she flies with her own wings.” 7/10, “she” being oregon’s “independent spirit.” i think it’s a sick ass motto but oregon is thinkin of themselves too highly here

pennsylvania: “virtue, liberty, and independence.” 4/10, the lack of originality is getting tiring but i guess it shows some values or something

rhode island: “hope.” 2/10, are you even trying? come on

south carolina: “dum spiro spero”, trans. “while i breathe, i hope.” 6/10, it’s inspiring i guess but i seriously do not understand why this would be associated with south carolina. i swear i’m not an advertising major or anything

south dakota: “under God the people rule.” 0/10, we are OBSESSED with this guy here. WHY do we need states to be associated with religion

tennesse: “agriculture and commerce.” we’re coming to the very simple mottos now. 4/10, i feel it’s redundant but i guess it meant something to them when they made it

texas: “friendship.” 10/10, it’s basic and unoriginal but it’s so fucking funny that i have to give this one to them. i do NOT think of friendship when i think of texas

utah: “industry.” 1/10, what the hell is this? one point for not being religious but what the fuck

vermont: “stella quarta decima fulgeat”, trans. “may the 14th star shine bright” AND “freedom and unity.” 7/10, i like the first one because it directly references vermont but the second one is just unoriginal and sad. why have a motto if it’s gonna be like that

virginia: “sic semper tyrannis”, trans. “thus always to tyrants.” 7/10, sick as hell. three points deducted because it once again has nothing to do with virginia, but it really is a sick ass motto

washington: (unofficial) “al-ki”, trans. “bye and bye.” 10/10, very specifically refers to the history of washington, which was first called “new york alki”

west virginia: “montani semper liberi”, trans. “mountaineers are always free.” 9/10, i want to dislike this because it feels so unrelated, but i love it. i love what you have going on here, west virginia

wisconsin: “forward.” 1/10, seriously?

wyoming: “equal rights.” 9/10, similar to nebraska, this motto came about because wyoming was the first state to grant women the right to vote. apparently this was because granting women the right to vote would make them have enough voting citizens to be granted statehood though, so point deducted for that

#be sure to like and subscribe yada yada yada #joshing around #i don't know why i did this

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ask-the-usa-manor · 4 months

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Accurate.

“Michi, you’ve already lost one arm, do you really want to lose both?” Minnesota asked casually.

“…Nah,” Michigan shook his head, “Not in the mood right now. Thanks, though.”

“He might lose the one he has from patting himself on the back too hard anyways. Typical,” Ohio scoffed after a quick glance over of the map, “And you’re one to talk about Illinois when you have Detroit—“

Ohio turned to his right, where Illinois was previously sitting, and stopped short. He was met with the blank smile of Chicago.

“No, no,” Illinois Chicago smiled, “He’s got a point! I think mine was accurate.”

“…” Indiana, who was leaning on the door frame, poked her head out into the hall, “‘Nois-Complaint, your city’s trying to replace you again!”

Iowa looked up at the ceiling as an abrupt clamor of rapid footsteps echoed through the upstairs floor, shortly followed by the same ones going through the hallway moments later. Illinois stormed in and dragged Chicago to his feet.

“Not at MY childhood home. Not here. Get out of my chair— What are you doing with my shirt—!?” Illinois paused and looked away from his city, squinting at a frame on the wall, “…Did you tape a picture of your face over mine in my family photos—?”

“I’m a Slytherin!” Iowa threw in, unhelpfully.

“I don’t believe you!” All of the others declared in unison.

“—Or that I wouldn’t work as a mitten,” Wisconsin added on, “Look! There’s a thumb there…! Ish…!”

Silence.

She sighed, “…At least I have cheese—”

“Finally! Somebody remembers Iowa isn’t the only corn-guru in the Midwest!” Indiana grinned.

Nebraska ripped his land off of the map and walked away. He didn’t need to surround himself with or waste his breath on people who denied that he was lord of the corn. Sacrilege, I say. Sacrilege.

“I wouldn’t say North Dakota and I are the same,” South Dakota mused, “I mean. I’m the funnier twin. And more attractive. And more outgoing. And smarter. And stronger—”

North Dakota side-eyed him, “Wanna test that theory?”

“Not really, no, you’d kick my ass.”

#USAManor! Michigan #USAManor! Minnesota #USAManor! Ohio #USAManor! Illinois #USAManor! Iowa #USAManor! Wisconsin #USAManor! Indiana #USAManor! Nebraska #USAManor! North Dakota #USAManor! South Dakota #Screw Quebec #Statehumans

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skepsiss · 29 days

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Chapter 13 is up now! (3,841 words)

Read it here on AO3: The Last Strange Thing

I realize now that it is April Fool's Day and this post is probably going to drown and not get much traction, but it is what it is. This is a heavy-hitting chapter! And very important to the story.

Rate: Explicit (violence, gore, and s*x) Read tags under the cut for warnings, and details. This is the most intense chapter out of the entire series, and the only one that is told from Eddie's POV. Time to learn all about this boy's trauma.

Chapter summary: Eddie retells the story of his childhood, and what his life was like running with the Red Saints. We learn all about his unpleasant past, his father, and what led him to flee the Saints in the first place. None of it is pretty, but the truth needs to come out. He is all the Red Saints say he is, and more.

Read the full series description, additional tags, the monster reference guide, and more under the cut!

Welcome to the apocalypse. The demo-infection has taken hold of the world, and humans are a rare thing these days. Still, people hang on to civilization in pockets across North America and beyond. Hawkins is one such place. Steve Harrington is a scout who runs missions for Hawkins, and on one of those missions, he becomes separated from his scouting partner, Robin. He has to find his way across Indianapolis in an infected world, meeting one very important individual on the way, Eddie. The two of them must trust one another in order to journey across Indiana, while perhaps finding something softer to nurture with one another along the way.

The journey is full of romance, death, action, and suspense. This is a "The Last of Us" alternate universe. This work is 100% completed, and I will be posting each chapter between now and April 7. Prepare yourself for approximately 52k of action, horror, romance, supernatural happenings, and love.

@llamalpaca will be posting some VERY COOL accompanying art that inspired this WHOLE PIECE! So be sure to give them a follow and check out that art piece when it drops in April.

Big thank you to @knormalizeknitting for being my beta reader!

Link to the Monster Reference Guide, here.

Censoring the word s*x so tumblr doesn't get mad at me. Please don't tag with NSFW or other such tags. The post itself is not inappropriate, but I want people who are going to read the fic to be aware of what is there.

Additional Tags: action, romance, hurt/comfort, alternate universe, The Last of Us AU, canon divergence, apocalypse, apocalypse au, body horror, gore, blood, animal and human death, excessive force (weapons), level of violence and graphic nature of imagery that aligns with Stranger Things, dead dove don’t read, dead dove don’t eat, smut, nsfw, frotting, handjob, happy ending, zombies, zombie apocalypse, steddie, stobin, platonic stobin, Steve and Robin are best friends, Steve and Robin are platonic soulmates, slow burn, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, misunderstanding, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, betrayal.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #Robin Buckley #Stobin #platonic stobin #stranger things fan fiction #Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang 2024 #STRBB24 #The Last Strange Thing

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lostfirefly · 4 months

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You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me (Ch.6)

Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced (sorry, guys). The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. Sorry, not sorry :) The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) I have no idea how many chapters there will be. Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.

Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)

Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure..

Warnings: One light naughty joke. Adventures and fun are still here. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.

It's hard to create riddles, guys! :) I wanted to make this part bigger, but what was written next already sounds like a separate chapter. Sorry! :) Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it.

Words: 1301

The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)

Taglist: @gingernut1314 (if someone wants to be added to this list, let me know!)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

• Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Quiet, we’ll wake her up!" Buggy whispered.

"Come on, let’s do it one more time, pl-e-e-ease!"

Rika opened her eyes upon hearing the voices. She stared at the wall of sand and squeezed her eyes shut.

"God, let me turn around and see them dressed!"

She turned around cautiously and opened one eye.

Catherine was sitting on her knees next to Buggy and holding his detached wrist in her hands. Literally. She could barely contain the delight in her voice.

"Good morning, folks", Rika opened both eyes, raised her back and leaned against the sandy wall. "I don’t even want to ask what you are doing and why he’s already wearing fresh makeup.. But.. Can I ask? Have you been doing this nonsense all morning?"

Rika yawned as she watched Buggy quickly grab his wrist and reattach it to the rest of his hand.

"Not really!" Catherine jumped up from her seat and ran to the car. "We've been studying maps and diaries, thank goodness we still have that".

"A-a-a-and did you find anything out?" Rika squinted.

"Actually, yes! Look, there are rocks or something like that. Painted here and here. Buggy says this is the Skypiea Sand Mountains. That's where we need to go.. in theory.. and that's where it looks like we're going.. in theory.. . And there's one thing I can't figure out. North should be there, but the compass points the other way", she pointed her fingers in different directions.

"Let me see", Rika took the compass. "There's one thing I don't understand. Why that man, whatever-his-name-was just handed that thing over. And he smiled in that weird way. He didn't look helpless to me".

"Oh, believe me, honey, he’s not helpless. He used to train me and.. whatever... on Rusukaina… And he.."

"He did what?? Do you know him?" Rika interrupted him, her eyes widened.

"Yeah! Some kind of… And trust me, he can kick anyone's ass", Buggy said, laying back down.

"He can kick anyone’s ass", Catherine repeated his words with a sneer. "Then why didn't your all-powerful grandfather kick that man with the beehive instead of his arm?"

"First of all, it was the hook. Second, I don't know about that, my little pie. Maybe he had some kind of secret plan. Maybe he wanted me to save you so you could admire almighty Buggy the Clown for the rest of your life".

Catherine rolled her eyes.

"Or maybe he knows something. Look at this. There's an inscription in the diary, but it's in ancient Egyptian", said Rika, beckoning them both with her hand, "but I’m not good at it".

"Lemme see", Catherine grabbed the diary. "Give me a second.. Glass.. Key.. Light.. Way.. let the glass be your main key, choose completely the wrong way, when the sun starts shining brightly, you should follow… the northern light?"

"Can you read ancient Egyptian?" Rika asked.

"I can do a lot of things, does this surprise you?" Catherine snapped. "Well, sometimes I spend my evenings at home with books after work at the library".

"God! You have a very boring life, you know that?" Buggy said, putting his hands under his head.

"Shhh, silly clown!" she made a hand gesture for him to shut up. "Look, there's a drawing. I don't understand. Some kind of hexagon".

Buggy widened his eyes, then he stood up abruptly, correcting his ponytail and walked briskly to the car.

"Hey, where are you going?" Catherine got up and ran after him, holding the map and diaries in her hands. "Hey, I'm talking to you!".

She approached Buggy, who was rummaging through the boot of the car.

"Does it look like what you've got painted on there?" he was holding a small box.

"Hell, yeah! Rika, come here, quick. Where did you get this from?" Catherine called Rika over with her hand and put the map on the car.

"Weeeell.... I stole it from Crocodile a couple of months ago", Buggy said, scratching his head.

"What do you mean you stole it and what do you mean a couple of months ago?" Rika asked, coming up behind him.

"Well, I was in these places not too long ago, met our old friend and stole this thing, hoping I might need it someday. Although, to be honest, I've no idea what it is".

"Do you always have such brilliant plans? Do you just go out and steal everything like a fucking kleptomaniac?" Catherine looked at him, squinting her eyes.

"God, when you two are out of each other's lives, I swear I'll celebrate that day with a bottle of whiskey. Can you focus, please?" Rika barked and took the box from Buggy's hands. "Look. The pattern of this thing repeats here, here and here. But here and here these drawings are crossed", she poked at places on the map.

"Maybe it's some kind of key? But a key to what? To treasure?" Catherine shifted her gaze from the box to the map.

"If this thing opens the door to gold, I'll even take some money, take you to a party and then buy you ice cream, Cathie-pie", Buggy wanted to sit on the boot of the car with a proud look, but he missed and fell on the sand.

"You see? This is God's punishment for your long tongue and stupid jokes", said Catherine mockingly.

"Oh, baby! Believe me, you'd be happy to have my tongue between yo.,.", he didn't have time to finish his sentence as Catherine kicked him in the leg, "Ouch! Hey! Fuck.."

"You two! Shut up! And so... We've got a map, a compass, notes, and apparently the key. Not bad. I think", Rika put the box back in the boot and looked at the compass she held in her hand.

"This doesn't make any sense. And the lines in the diary don't make sense either. Let the glass be your main key, choose completely the wrong way, when the sun starts shining brightly, you should follow the the northern light. What does the northern light have to do with it? Where does the northern light come from in the desert? And what does it have to do with the wrong way?" Catherine flailed her arms and flopped down next to Buggy and laid her head on his shoulder.

Rika sat down in front of them and stared intently at the compass.

"I don't know, my friend, I don't know", she raised the compass to eye level. "Wait, look!"

Buggy and Catherine crawled up to her.

"Do you see?" Rika asked in surprise.

"I see nothing!" Buggy muttered under his breath.

"Look at that!"

All three of them put their faces to the compass and squinted at each other.

"It's impossible!" Catherine whispered this.

They saw a green-orange beam inside the compass.

"Maybe I’ll say something stupid now.. But.. If it's the compass, it should point the way, right?" Buggy asked in a clarifying tone. "So, what if you point it at the map?".

All three of them got to their feet. The green-orange coloured sunbeam falling on the glass of the compass fell on the map, pointing the way.

"Сatherine, what was that you said about going back and north? According to the compass, we have to go to some other north, but it's not geographical", Rika didn't take her eyes off the beam.

"When the sun starts shining brightly", Catherine repeated quietly.

"Now the sun is at its zenith. And the northern lights are the colour of this beam, I think", Rika kept her gaze on the compass. "You see It's clearly drawn a path for us to follow. And look at the diary. Theoretically, the coordinates there should match the coordinates on the map. At least I think so", Rika whispered quietly.

"Ladies, we've got a course!"

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thepagansun · 11 months

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how did Donald Duck influence Star Wars? And wasn’t Indiana Jones inspired by Scrooge, not Donald?

George Lucas and Steven Spielberg mentioned that they were inspired by Carl Barks' comics.

So was Osamu Tezuka, the creator of Astro Boy and "Godfather of Modern Manga."

And Donald Duck was going on adventures with his nephews in the Carl Barks comics long before Scrooge McDuck was created and this is precisely why DT17 and other media trying to give all the credit to Scrooge but forgetting that Donald was the FIRST just proves my point in my frustration with them.

Everyone just thinks it was Scrooge McDuck thanks to the later Don Rosa's work: "Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck" which was loosely based on Carl Barks' works (Don Rosa exaggerated a lot of Scrooge's abilities at the expense of Donald's).

This is why I advocate for giving credit where credit is due when it comes to canon characters and where I feel DT17 really dropped the ball. Donald was an adventurer looong before Scrooge and some of Carl Barks' best comics don't even have him:

-"Donald Duck Finds Pirate Gold" - Carl Barks first full length comic

- "Mystery of the Swamp" - Donald and nephews encounter gnomish creatures in the Everglades which some think were the inspiration for the Ewoks in Star Wars

"The Mad Chemist" (the comic credited with discovering the chemical compound methylene 20 years before it was actually studied and verified!)

-"Lost in the Andes" - Carl Barks claimed was his best work

- "The Golden Helmet" - Donald and nephews: whoever possesses the golden helmet is ruler of North America

- "The Ice Box Robber" - The comic that showcased Donald having WWII PTSD

- "Sherrif of Bullet Valley" - Donald and nephews in the Wild West

- "Dangerous Disguise" - a comic about spies where a Donald look alike commits suicide by jumping out of a window

- "Luck of the North" Donald and nephews rescue Gladstone in Alaska

"Old California" - Donald and the nephews seem to time travel to California in 1848 and they witness the family there living their lives. It turns out they were in a bad car accident and were on the hospital in a coma for weeks. But the house is still there.

"A Christmas for Shacktown" - Donald and the nephews find ways to raise money for the poor kids in town

"The Gilded Man" - A search for a rare stamp leads Donald and the boys finding El Dorado

- "The Forbidden Valley" - Donald and the nephews discover a lost land of dinosaurs

Just to name a few. There are plenty more.

The great thing about the Carl Barks comics especially when it came to Donald was that although he still had bad luck, it showed him also have great skills in practically everything and it tackled deep emotional issues and real world events such as PTSD, spies/espionage, danger/adventure, poverty, but in a way that was relatable and entertaining.

Donald mixed the best of high action adventure with scenes of intimate, heartwarming domestic life with his nephews. It was literally the best of both worlds: adventure and domestic life.

So the world needs to know that actually it's Donald Duck that deserves the credit for the success of the Carl Barks comics. Not only was Donald first but he was used as the protagonist for many more comics than Scrooge. And I hope if we ever get another version of Ducktales that the writers actually credit Donald as he deserves and not a bunch of semi newbies that don't even exist in the original comics.

There's so much he inspired and influenced that people don't know and so it's unfair for him to be sidelined as he was for characters that haven't accomplished one iota of what he has.

It's time to give credit where it's actually due: to Donald Duck.

#donald duck #badass donald duck #scrooge mcduck #carl barks

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the99thfanboy · 2 years

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Things we forget about in The Big Bang Theory:

(Updated whenever I feel like it because I use the show for background stimulation and randomly tune in)

Howard Wolowitz has gay thoughts towards George Takei (don’t we all)

Zazzles the cat and his clowder of Manhattan Project bros

Both Sheldon and Amy like cats

Will Wheaton is a playful little ass (I love him)

He led a mob chasing after Sheldon and the guys when they stole the Indiana Jones reels from the theater

Sheldon calls Will’s Wesley Crusher the Jar Jar Binks of the Star Trek universe

Howard and Raj have indeed kissed

Sheldon thinks Dick Grayson should be the one to take up the Batman mantle

Stuart thinks it should be Jason Todd

Sheldon, Raj, Howard, and Leonard slept naked together to keep their core body temperatures from plummeting during their North Pole study

Raj likes to think of it as a bonding moment

Penny went to see at least one of the Star Trek movies in theaters without the guys (they were on their North Pole study so she saw it on her own before they did)

Mary Cooper drinks Diet Pepsi but has a mild Dr Pepper addiction

Part of her prayers are for Leonard to get a girlfriend

Raj is scared of bugs

Leonard, Raj, and Howard once planned to ambush and loot a Boy Scout camp for food

When singing Soft Kitty Sheldon physically moves up and down with change in notes on the line “purr, purr, purr”

In Sheldon’s dream, Raj cuddled up to Howard after they all fell asleep on the couch. Meaning that Sheldon thinks Raj would really cuddle with Howard given the right circumstances

Sheldon has restraining orders against him for Stan Lee and Leonard Nimoy

Barry Kripke fences and is knowledgeable enough to instruct

Sheldon doesn’t care about money despite having a good amount of it saved. He lends it to Penny when she needs it and volunteers money for a college fund for Howard and Bernadette’s child

Sheldon has both a floor and wall safe for valuables

Sheldon is scared of dogs, including Goofy but excluding Pluto

Will Wheaton and Stuart play DND with William Shatner, Kevin Smith, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Joe Manganiello

Leonard was invited to play when Stuart dropped out

After he’s kicked out for telling Penny, she, Amy, and Bernadette join

Sheldon's horse in Red Dead Redemption was hit by a train and he has to go through a grieving process before replacing him

His name was Chauncey

When Sheldon was fired he started going through hyperfixations. One of which was glow-in-the-dark fish which led to spin off ideas of glow-in-the-dark tampons and weaving clothes on a large loom

Sheldon built a death ray as a kid. According to his mother it barely slowed down the neighbor kids

Raj had dinner with and kissed a guy dressed in drag as an Orion slave from Star Trek

His name was Richard or Kimberly

Raj and Leonard agree that they are both Omegas

Leonard wears dresses or dress-like garments on several occasions and expresses that he likes how freeing and breezy they are (he also looks hella cute)

#the big bang theory #big bang theory #tbbt #howard wolowitz #george takei #star trek #sheldon cooper #amy farrah fowler #will wheaton #rajesh koothrappali #barry kripke #leonard hofstadter #william shatner

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sapphyreopal5 · 5 months

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"Guy Talk 'Who you gonna call?'" section from Supernatural Magazine Issue 13 (Dec 2009/Jan 2010)- page 64

"Ghoul getting grouchy? Wendigo worrying you? Siren singing you a song? Whatever your unexplained phenomena, the Winchester brothers are on hand to help…"[x]

"Dear Sam and Dean,

Although my house is well heated and insulated, there's one place in the living room that is always cold, no matter how high I turn up the heat. If you stand in that one spot, you always feel a cold chill running down your spine like something walking over your grave. Reading up, I've seen that cold spots can be a sign of hauntings. Do I need to worry?" - Linda Beaman, Minneapolis, Minnesota

Dean says: "You live in Minnesota? I’m surprised your whole house isn't like an icebox - It has to be one of the coldest states we've ever visited!"

Sam says: "In our experience, temperatures can drop in the presence of a spirit. If a particular part of your house is constantly cold with no variation, however, then I don't think that’s the problem in your case, especially as you don't report any other effects. The real reason is more likely to be something as simple as a draft, or bad positioning of heating ducts."

Dean says: "Even if there is a spirit there, if it hasn't done anything else to you, it doesn't mean any harm. We know vengeful spirits, and it doesn't sound loo vengeful. Just hanging around causing a cold spot. Seems more like it's a friendly ghost, like Casper".

Sapphyreopal5 says:

"Dear Sam and Dean,

As I write this, there's a Friday the 13th coming up. and it always scares me. If I can I avoid doing stuff like driving or flying as much as I can on those days because of their reputation. Sometimes I even call In sick or book a day off work just so I can stay home. Am I right to be scared of those days?" Susan Kennedy, Gary, Indiana

Sam says: "The fear of Friday the 13th is known as Paraskavedekatriaphobia, and you're not alone in it Susan. It's estimated up to 21 million people in the US alone share your fear to an extent. Theories about the unluckiness of the day comes from a combination of the number 13 being seen as an unlucky number and Friday being an unlucky day. It's seen as unlucky, for instance, to have 13 people seated at a table, like at The Last Supper- the betrayer Judas is generally seen as the unlucky 13th guest. Friday has often been seen as an unlucky day to start projects in many professions, and according to scripture was the day which Jesus was crucified, which accounts for some of its bad reputation."

Dean says: "There's no conclusive evidence that more accidents happen on Friday the 13th than any other day, so you probably don’t need to worry. In fact, since they say more accidents happen in the time, maybe calling in sick is a bad idea! All Friday the 13th really signifies is a movie about a psycho In a hockey mask."

Sam says: "Didn’t they remake that recently? I keep meaning to go see it…"

Sapphreopal5 says: "Talk about a bit of a nerdy way to say come see my movie Jared and you starting Jared off on that suggestion, Jensen 😂 also a fun fact, in numerology when it comes to breaking down numbers into single digits, 13 is 1 + 3 = 4. In a lot of East Asian countries, it turns out the number 4 is seen as an unlucky number and therefore is avoided in a lot of East Asian countries (ex. China, Japan, Vietnam, North and South Korea), known as tetraphobia. In Cantonese, it is pronounced very similarly to 'death'. In Korea and Japan the symbol for 4 is about identical to the symbol for death. It's why there will either be no 4th floor in buildings or it'll be renamed to 3A or F or something else. Funny enough, the number 13 is seen to be a lucky number in Italy and in China. OH, and in the Tarot the 13th card in the Major Arcana is Death, with the key words for it including endings, change (and resistance to), transformation, letting go, transition, and even inner purging.

Maybe subconsciously people fear both the numbers 4 and 13 because they fear death is the end and not a beginning and also many tend to fear change as it often means the death of something (beliefs, relationships, lifestyle, etc.). Perspective is everything... Also it's quite the irony this question about Friday the 13th is being brought up in issue numbered 13 of this magazine..."

"Dear Sam and Dean,

Is there such a thing as the Witching Hour? My mom always told me It was the time of night when witches and demons and ghosts ate at their most active and powerful. Ever since I was a kid I've always been scared of getting up in the night, even to go to the bathroom. Am I Just being stupid believing in it?"- Lee Dickinson, Norwich, England

Sam says: "That’s a pretty common belief, that there's a point in the night where ghosts and other supernatural beings are more powerful, and black magic at Its most effective. The thing is though, there's not much agreement about when that time is - some say it's midnight while others say it covers the period between midnight and 3AM. That’s a pretty long hour! It’s likely this belief just springs from the fact that what with the darkness, unexplained noises like your house shifting, and the quiet just makes it seem like there are supernatural forces at work. Some things are just scarier at night is all."

Dean says: "Tell me about it - I've seen what your hair looks like when you've slept on it! Truth is, in our experience, spirits, demons, and other monsters can be active at any time of the day. Most of the ones we go up against sure don't seem to need any sleep. I don't know if that makes you feel safer or not. Still, al least you won’t have to hold it in all night anymore!"

Sapphyreopal5: "Then how come so many episodes of Supernatural take place at night, huh?! But in all seriousness, when I've spoken with my guides about dream walking and such, there's many reasons why they call sleeping time/night time '"'Illusion time'..."

#jared padalecki #jensen ackles #Sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #spn family #magazine interview 2009 #j2 interview #supernatural magazine issue 13 #sapphyreopal5 #Who you gonna call

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lovebillyhargrove · 5 months

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Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 17/? "Flammable"

***

"This fucking February is gonna stay for-fucking-ever and fucking everything's gonna be buried under this fucking snow," - Billy's muttering to himself, grunting with effort as he heaves another full shovel. He's done so much shoveling in the last few days, he thinks it can actually be his new life calling. If he ever gets tired of California's perpetual sunshine, he might move to Alaska and shovel snow there till the end of time.

Billy's made a couple of extra bucks this way, too - their neighbor to the right, old Mrs. Deville pays him to clean her walkway daily. Billy's kinda okay with her, she seems like a sweet old lady. He remembers, back in August, when their family first arrived in Hawkins, her garden was still full of blossoming rose bushes, and the smell they gave off was amazing.

What ?? He kinda liked the roses' scent, flooding the street. Is that a crime?

Hargrove has no idea who lives in the house to the left, it looks rundown and abandoned.

Winter and especially February in assfuck Indiana continue to constantly surprise him. Apart from usual snow, total absence of sunshine, sleet, slush, normal ice on the roads, hailstorms, freezing rains and horrible biting winds, resulting in black fucking ice - which still remains Billy's most vivid impression he'll keep in his memory for a loooong time -

Did he mention it getting dark at five fucking thirty?

Fucking icicles ?? - Billy never even knew words like that before, they weren't part of his fucking vocabulary!

It being slippery everywhere?

Frostbites? Irritating sniffles?

You name it. And what is more,

Snow starts falling every.

goddamn.

day now.

Billy was unaware of what snow shoveling even was before they moved here. He then was introduced to this exciting activity in December last year. Not that he minded it much, doing it only once in a while. But these days - when did he sign up for this shit - he has to shovel the driveway and other surfaces around the house much more often than he used to. He has to do it every day at home and during his shifts at Mr. Dailey's repair shop. Plus the nice Mrs. Deville's walkway. Billy has a feeling he's shoveling 24/fucking 7 now.

On the bright side, it can be considered as a workout, it's not that bad. Billy can swear, the muscles in his arms and torso, in fact, in his whole body, are becoming more and more defined with every passing day. Who needs barbells when nature's giving you the perfect exercise.

He looks fine as hell.

It's just that, apparently, he has also started talking to himself, like an old grumpy dude. Shoveling is monotonous as fuck.

He belongs in the loony bin.

Oh, one day Billy gets in a snow blizzard on the way home from the repair shop he works at. That's something else entirely.

There's a huge one raging in the north of the state, Hawkins is going to get only its faint echoes.

They turn out to be enough to disrupt the life of the entire town.

His boss insists that they close the shop early, before the snowstorm is supposed to hit, although Billy doesn't quite grasp what the big fucking deal is at first.

"Kid, go home. You and your car won't do shit in what's about to come."

Do I have to? I don't wanna

"Tomorrow you don't have a shift, right? I'm pretty sure we're gonna be closed."

When Billy's approaching Cherry Lane, the snowstorm overtakes him. It's only the beginning but

That's some truly devilish shit.

The wind is already very strong and is picking up its speed by the second. When Billy climbs out of the camaro, holding the door so it doesn't fly the fuck away, he can't even open his eyes properly because snow is getting blown into his face, not letting him see anything.

He has to literally fight his way to the entrance.

Later on the wind turns to be more severe, and the storm is even more intense. The whole house is shaking.

Fucking weather.

Max is excited, the shitbird. She peeks into Billy's room late in the evening with a frightened expression on her face, like she's in awe of what's happening outside.

"School's gonna be closed tomorrow."

"Says who?"

"It was in the news. They are expecting more than 6 inches of snow, and they won't be able to clean all the roads in time."

"Great. Now shut the damn door."

Max is lingering in the doorway

"Aren't you scared?"

"It's just snow and wind."

"Do you think it can blow our house away?"

Billy snorts

Would've been interesting

"No, Max. It's not that strong."

How old is she, for fuck's sake. What is this "Wizard of Oz" bullshit.

Max is still standing there.

"Go sleep. It's gonna be fine in the morning."

***

Max was right. Billy's munching on cornflakes and listening to the morning news. No school. There's at least eight inches of snow covering the roads.

Billy was right, too. The weather's good in the morning. The blizzard died down during the night, and Billy has three options now: to clean his room, do homework for next week or grab a fucking shovel.

Neil leaves him no options.

Chop chop, son. You know what to do.

When Billy steps out of the house

First, it's like his eyes get slashed.

It's too bright.

Second, when his eyesight more or less adjusts to all the light, Billy loses his breath for a second.

It's unbelievable.

Everything is covered with a white glistening blanket. The sky is the bluest blue, it's clear and cloudless and

The sun. After weeks of hiding behind the clouds

The sun is finally out.

The sharp pain in his eyes fades away, but he's squinting cause the sparkling snow, the radiant sun, the cerulean sky - it's too much, it still blurs his vision. There is no wind, it's quiet and peaceful. As if the nature has let all its rage out and has calmed itself down.

Wow.

It's .. magical.

Like, really.

The news people weren't kidding. It looks like all fucking eight inches. The temperature is around 29 F, and the snow hasn't started melting yet, but with this sunshine, it's gonna get warmer soon, which means the snow will get heavier.

There is no camaro standing in the driveway. There's a full-ass-size mockup model of his camaro made of snow. It looks cool. Means more work for Billy, but who cares. Neil parked his Buick in the garage yesterday. Of course.

Billy puts his face up to the sun. It feels warm, like he's seeing an old friend.

He gets a sudden idea - he can actually call his buddy in California right the fuck now, tell him about the snow. He tried calling him once a couple of weeks ago, but no-one answered. Billy has some change in the pockets, it won't buy him a long conversation, but he wants to hear his friend's voice, even if for a minute. He sticks the shovel in the snow heap and walks to the payphone. There is one a couple of blocks down.

Billy doesn't simply walk. He makes holes in the snow with his boots, every step it's like falling down a little, but the solid ground has got him, it doesn't let him fall any further.

Hargrove opens the phone booth door with difficulty cause of all the snow blocking it, picks the receiver up. He knows Nick's number by heart. The line beeps and his friend - Billy recognizes the voice in an instant - picks up

"Hello?"

"Hey, Nick."

"Hey .. oh my god. Holy shit, Billy ??"

"Yeah."

Billy has missed his past life so much, he's smiling and wants to cry and wants to be there, where his friend's voice is.

"Billy, it that you? You've disappeared off the face of the earth, why didn't you call?"

And before Hargrove can answer the question

"When are you coming back?"

"I was uh .. thinking, July?"

"But you wanted to hit the dust the moment you get your diploma?"

"Yeah I just .."

"Wait, did you find someone there?"

"No, fuck off! No, that's .."

That's an impossible notion

"Tell me the name!"

"Nick, it's not .. you know me, I'm not uh .. looking for anything like that. I just wanna save enough money before heading back, you know .. for my own place and shit."

"But you're crashing with me for the first couple of weeks, right? Till you're all settled?"

"That still on?"

"Of course."

Billy wants to cry even more.

"How are you and Kelly doing?"

"We've been great. Going to prom together."

Ah, yes. The prom. Being in a relationship means you get excited about stuff like that. Thank god it's not Billy's case.

"Good."

To be honest, he'd die to go to prom with his friends in San Diego. Get stinking drunk, get soaring high? Do something outrageously stupid?

"Kel's been asking about you, why you never call."

"Yeah it's like uhm .. new place and .. busy. You can't even imagine how much snow I've shoveled in the last few days. Like .. it's fucking everywhere. They cancelled school today because of it, can you believe it?"

Nick is laughing, bright and happy, and Billy wants to run, run, run there. Away from here.

"The fuck is this, man! Hey uh .." Nick's voice is getting more serious. "How are things with you and your dad?"

"It's fine. Yeah .. it's okay."

"Okay."

"Why are you at home? Aren't you supposed to be at school yourself?"

"Yeah .. Jack got sick, parents are at work, I'm babysitting. Fuck, I just need to make it till graduation, man."

Jack is Nick's little brother. He's three or something.

Nick isn't exactly doing good at school. Doesn't make him a lesser friend.

"Graduation is just around the corner. You'll make it, come on."

"Yeah."

"Hey I think we're gonna be disconnected. Was nice hearing your voice, man. I'll call again soon. Say hi to everyone from me."

"Just don't disappear completely, like maybe you can leave your phone number where I ca .."

Beep beep beep

Billy puts the receiver back and walks out of the phone booth. He's not in a hurry. He's walking slowly, eyes half closed from all the dazzle, the brilliance.

Billy's still keeping his face up, gentle winter sunrays caressing his skin.

He's smiling.

Summer's on the way.

***

Saturday night is Valentine's Day party at Andy's house. There's this special buzz in the air that's sending out a warning - it's gonna be wild and everyone is gonna get hammered tonight. Kids haven't had a party for ages, they've been staying at home with parents and siblings for two days straight cause of the blizzard, and tomorrow is still the weekend. It was a close call, with Andy's parents considering delaying their trip to visit friends due to the storm but thank heavens, gods have been merciful to the Hawkins youth. They let them have their fun, Andy's mom and dad leaving on Saturday early in the morning. Major roads have been cleaned by then, parents have a beast of a truck, and it's good that they are going south where there's less snow.

Billy arrives late.

After the shift he does some - yaay. - shoveling, he has shoveled the whole goddamn Cherry fucking Lane already, and then he takes his time in the shower and in front of the mirror. Billy decides on wearing dark grey jeans with a couple of rips on the thighs and a navy blue button down, just a teeny bit tight, it's a slim fit, hugging his biceps, waist and chest just right. Even though it's winter Hargrove leaves three buttons undone.

Fuck, does he look great. Like candy. As always, though. Billy's puffing his lips a bit, ogling his own reflection. He'd kiss himself on the sexy mouth if he could. He'd definitely totally fuck himself if he had an opportunity.

Billy is afraid Neil's gonna give him crap about something but, luckily, his dad's watching a baseball game and drinking beer, Susan is sitting close to him on the couch, flipping through cookery magazines - domestic fucking bliss - and Billy doesn't exactly notify anyone that he's leaving.

Maybe, once in a lifetime, Neil's pleased with all Billy's fucking shoveling. Maybe he just doesn't give a shit about his son tonight.

Either way, Billy gets dressed, goes out of his room, grabs the jacket, opens the front door quietly and is out of the house. He's walking towards his car that he has wisely parked down the street.

Like hell he is not going to that party.

He wants to see Harrington.

Remember?

A party means there's is a chance we are alone in a room, pretty boy. Just you and me.

When he gets to Andy's house, the night is already in full swing.

As soon as he opens the door,

Like a virgin

Comes blasting

Touched for the very first time

Like a virgin

When your heart beats next to mine

Billy also hears Roy's voice bellowing somewhere close "Pure fire! Whoo!"

He's drunkenly stumbling out of the kitchen in front of Billy

"Hey man, you got any vodka on you? I'm trying to carry out an experiment."

That guy is definitely a virgin.

"Nah." Billy moves past the funny dude. What has he got on his mind tonight.

It's Valentine's. Love is in the air. There are red heart shaped balloons floating around.

Everyone's drunk. Kissing couples are everywhere. Music's incredibly loud and setting the right mood.

You’re So Fine

And You’re Mine

Make Me Strong

Yeah You Make Me Bold

"Billyyy !! Finally, where have you beeeen?"

Jennifer's bright red lips are aiming for his mouth

but he turns his face away, getting kissed on the cheek instead.

God, she's plastered already.

For some reason Billy's not psyched about kissing her tonight.

He's got someone else on his mind. Billy's scanning the dancing crowd. There's a bubbling sensation in his belly and a weird feeling as if his lungs are drawn tight, not letting him take a breath with a full chest

His eyes

Searching searching searching

Where is he?

Harrington is in the living room, playing beer pong with the guys. He and Tommy are teamed up against Andy and Danny. The two teams are neck and neck, and whoever scores a victory, they're gonna win by a nose.

Steve's wearing dark blue jeans and a toffee brown light sweater. His hair is styled to perfection. He looks like expensive caramel that you wanna take in your mouth and suck on. Roll around with your tongue, listening to its gentle clickety-click on the teeth.

The pretty boy is busy. Alright.

There's a group of teens - mostly juniors and seniors whose hearts aren't taken by anyone in particular - playing "Cupid's Arrow" that's just like a Valentine's version of Spin the bottle. Billy's too old for that.

Besides, Jennifer is hanging on his arm.

"Babyyy, let's go dance!"

Hargrove grabs a can of beer, shotguns it cause he needs alcohol in his system, fast, and they get in the middle of the chaotically moving mish-mash.

***

After some dancing, drinking the second can of beer and getting handsy with his Valentine, Hargrove notices that King Steve has decided to join the rhythm-crazed crowd. He's not alone, of course, the red haired chick's following him everywhere. Are they like, official boyfriend and girlfriend now? Has Billy missed some gossip?

I don't know what you've got but it plays with my emotions

I want you so much

Darling I want to hold you near

Want to whisper sweet and tender in your ear

Well, it is Valentine's, so the music's all sentimental cheesy trash

Can't stand the thought of you with somebody else

Got to have your love got to have it all to myself

I say yeah yeah yeah yeah

Billy is smiling at Jennifer. It's not like he's already drunk, but the rush and the excitement are getting into his bloodstream. Also things got a bit more thrilling with Harrington dancing just a couple of feet away. Billy can't help it, it's like he's radio tuned onto him, his head starts whirring as soon as the asshole gets close

Want to be your lover lover

Want to be your lover lover lover boy

All of a sudden Billy feels someone's back fucking .. rubbing on his. It's like .. okay, the living room is packed and sometimes you touch a body, and a body touches you, but this .. this was done intentionally

Billy's turning his head slightly to see who's so cocky here, crossing the border, invading his space

He sees Harrington's caramel sweater right behind him. It looks like the dude's just dancing, all innocent and focused on his date.

It is crowded.

Too far gone it's hard to stop

Baby you're my dream in motion and I won't give up

Teasing me with your fire

The moment Hargrove thinks it's all in his mind, Steve's getting closer again and his shoulder blades are lined up with Billy's

He feels Harrington's heat

Which spreads all over Billy's body like wildfire

Fuck fuck FUCK

The fuck he's doing

Your're the one I desire

Got to have your tenderness all to myself

Hargrove remembers those couple of seconds when Steve was on the gym floor, and Billy was hovering over the guy, clutching his hand - that moment when he was twitching from head to toe as though he was being tasered

Is Harrington feeling it now too? Or is it only Billy?

The heat is gone, and then it's back again

Hargrove's between heaven and hell.

Want to be your lover lover lover boy

They keep dancing like that, backs touching occasionally. There's nothing weird about that, no-one's gonna pay any attention, the floor is a tight space.

I want to be your love

Gotta have your love

And I can't stand it

Who the fuck is responsible for the music tonight.

Oh no the dumb song's finishing, but the one that's coming up seems to be even worse

It's a ballad, so it means that they're gonna do a slow dance. Ugh, shit goddamnit. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come to this party after all.

It's not fun, it's fucking torture. Billy is pulling Jennifer closer - guess it's walk the walk and talk the talk - and she's wrapping her arms around his neck, her tits pressed tight against his chest.

I gotta take a little time

A little time to think things over

Do they have to romantically look into each other's eyes for the whole damn dance? Bleh, Billy never liked the slow ones. Get drunk, let the energy out on the dance floor, suck face, get a release, done. Go home, sleep like a baby.

Through the clouds I see love shine

It keeps me warm as life grows colder

Thank god Jennifer is resting her head on Billy's shoulder now, he doesn't have to stare at her face anymore. He quickly looks around and

Sees Harrington and his new girl kissing.

Passionately.

There's another kind of fire whipping through Hargrove. It doesn't just burn, it turns everything black and toxic

Just like that, with a snap of the fingers, Billy's mood is ruined.

The song's getting worse.

I want to know what love is

I want you to show me

The crowd of wasted teenagers are chanting along

Christ al-fucking-mighty, when is it gonna finish

I wanna feel what love is

I know you can show me

Jennifer's hands are sliding over Billy's shoulders, down his back. All over his ass.

Okay, uh .. he needs a break. His dick is hard but it's not because he's getting felt up by the girl in his arms. He needs a breath of fresh air.

I've got nowhere left to hide

It looks like love has finally found me

"Honey, I'll be back in a second."

Bathroom break. Or something.

I wanna feel what love is, no, you just cannot hide

The words of the stupid song are chasing Billy as he's hurrying up the stairs.

***

He's in the bathroom, behind the closed door, looking at himself in the mirror.

What did you expect, huh? What exactly did you expect, fool? That you're gonna come to the party, and the moment you cross your eyes with his majesty, you're gonna go upstairs together and jump into bed?

Billy's scoffing at his naivety. He opens cold water, washes his face.

Life seldom gives you what you really want.

It's pointless. Him having any kind of expectations for this stupid party is ridiculous.

On his way out of the bathroom, Billy decides to sneak into a quiet room and have a smoke. Alone. A couple of rooms are locked, probably already occupied by horny couples, and there's one at the end of the hallway, that turns out to be open, dark, and empty. Perfect. It's Mr. Goldman's study, obviously. Billy's not gonna make a mess. He just wants to have some quiet time. He opens the window, finds an ashtray on the mahogany desk and lights up a cigarette.

He can still hear the music booming downstairs. The night is dark and the air, flowing through the open window, is nippy and sobering.

What does Billy want? To kiss King Steve again? What for? How many kissing sessions will be enough? Does he want to do something more with him? Is Harrington even up for it? He seems happy with his new girlfriend.

What more does Billy want? To touch Steve's dick? To suck his dick? How far is he willing to go? Billy's not even sure himself.

It all started with the itch, with the contempt, with the hostility. It transformed into this vague want, the want for what ?

It's not worth the trouble. Billy has nothing in this suburban town that he's having a remotely strong feeling about. No strings attached. Nothing to miss when he's gonna be driving away from here.

Let it stay this way.

Hargrove's finishing the cigarette. He needed this clarity.

He opens the door and bumps into Harrington who's loitering in the hallway. The hell he's doing here? Waiting in line for the bathroom? Waiting in line for a free room to get his hands up that girl's skirt?

Without any warning, Steve's grabbing Billy's hand, and dragging him back into the study, where it's still dark and empty and .. cold. Sobering. Harrington clicks the lock and Hargrove is suddenly pressed against the wall.

Lyrics of a song from downstairs are reverberating through the room. You can actually make out the words up here, Billy just zoned out completely when he was alone thinking

It wouldn’t hurt her if she didn’t know, cause

When it gets too much

I need to feel your touch

"Why didn't you call?"

The fuck Harrington wants?

Steve is looking at him like a lunatic

I'm gonna run to you

Billy's holding the frenzied gaze. One more second, and he's gonna push Harrington's away, put an end to whatever this is

"Didn't feel like it."

Steve's not saying anything anymore, he straight up tries kissing Billy's lips

He's wasted. The way he just goes for it, is unhinged

He smells like alcohol and lust

I’m gonna run to you

Cause when the feelin’s right I’m gonna run all night

Billy's dodging the kisses. Steve's hands are sliding up and down his abs

"Stop being a priss, Hargrove. Don't you wanna have a little fun?"

Harrington's voice is hoarse and so sexy

But you’re the one that always turns me on

You keep me comin' round

"Thanks, I don't want leftovers." Billy's standing like a rock, King Steve can't honeycomb or sweet talk him into anything tonight.

"What?" Harrington's whispering on an exhale

And a second later, almost mockingly, with a smirk

"Are you jealous ?"

Eyebrows raised high.

Billy's glaring at Harrington. He has just talked some sense into himself to keep all his unclear urges in check, why is this motherfucker making all his efforts go to waste?

What the fuck !??

Billy digs his fingers in that soft caramel sweater that wraps Harrington's slender figure so elegantly

Takes full fists of it

I’m gonna run to you

In a flash, it's Harrington whose back hits the wall, hard

He's wincing from the unexpected pain

"Listen, fuckhead. I don't know what your game is, but I don't like it. Stay the fuck away from me, I've had enough."

Hargrove articulates every word clearly, hoping that all of them will sink in King Steve's carefree brain.

Billy slams him against the wall again, just to get the message across, once and for all, then lets him go, unlocks the door and leaves Steve alone in the dark room

Run to you?

More like run from you.

***

The party is still raging but Billy's not in the mood for dancing anymore. He makes himself comfortable on the couch downstairs and lights another Marlboro. There are people around, and a minute later Jennifer finds him, sits close and asks for a cigarette.

Hargrove's throwing his head back and takes his time inhaling and exhaling the bitter smoke, watching it go up. It calms him down.

A couple of minutes later Harrington drops on the armchair standing near the couch, the red-haired girl sitting on his lap. They are making out, tongue and all, giggling stupid

Steve's kissing Nicole, hands gliding over her legs, but has his eyes fixed on Billy. The king is so drunk, he's not even subtle about it.

Billy's dick stirs in his jeans, and Jennifer's hand explicitly touches his thigh

"Let's go upstairs?"

Billy's suddenly tired. Physically. Of fucking everything. Maybe it's all the shoveling, taking its toll on him. He's exhausted and he wants out of here. It's time to go.

"I'll go get a beer."

Jennifer keeps Hargrove under surveillance as he's walking in the direction of the kitchen.

There, in the kitchen, a special kind of entertainment is about to unfold. A fire show, apparently. Roy is trying to ignite fucking punch. Like, literally. He's been calling it "fire" the whole evening, so at some point he decided it's okay to try to light it up. Tina is shouting

"Someone, get a fire extinguisher! He's gonna burn the house down!"

Some people are laughing, some are waiting for the whole bowl to go up in flames

Roy is sticking a torch lighter in the punch bowl, but nothing burns. He then opens a bottle of vodka and is pouring it into the mixture

"For the sake of science!"

"Stop freaking spiking it, Roy!" Someone's shouting and the guy stops, tries setting it on fire again.

The experiment fails. Of course. What a stupid ass.

Billy can't watch this clown.

"Dunston, you dumbass, it won't work. The drink will catch fire if it's minimum 40 per cent alcohol in volume. Pure vodka will burn, as will rum, absinthe or tequila. Or whiskey."

Billy grabs the half full bottle of vodka, finds two clean shot glasses and fills them up

"Hit the lights. Usually vodka burns a clear blue flame, but it's not too bright."

There's still enough light coming from the living room for everyone to see what's happening. Billy takes out his usual lighter, sets one shot on fire, then the second. He's right, the fire's not very strong, but there are two beautiful light blue rings on the kitchen table.

"Alright. On the count of three, cover the glass with your hand to extinguish the fire, and as soon as it's out, drink up, you got it?"

Roy's nodding.

"Won't it burn?"

"A little. I'm doing it with you, man."

"One, two, three, go!"

Hargrove puts his hand over the shot and then downs it in a flash. The vodka is hot, it goes down like molten glass

Roy's still standing there with his unsure hand over the second shot.

Fucking pussy.

"Seriously, Dunston?"

"I tried, dude, I almost did it, but it fucking burnt my palm!"

"Hold the glass."

Billy's putting his own hand over the flame

"Now drink!"

Roy's gulping it like a champ but then comes

"Owww !! I burnt my tongue! Fuck! It's hot! Or my throat! I don't know! It hurts !!"

Jesus fucking christ

What a town of pussies.

"Ow ow ow! Someone, call 911!"

"Are you out of your mind, Roy ?? We're all drunk here!" That's Tina again

No need to call 911.

Hargrove is taking Dunston by the shoulder

"Come one, man. I'm driving you to the hospital."

Roy's looking at him in disbelief.

"You would?"

Perfect excuse

For Billy to leave the party early.

They are passing Jennifer

"You know how you're getting home?"

"Yeah." She looks disappointed. Not Billy's problem.

They get outside, Roy's holding a hand over his mouth

"Oh my god, dude! Am I gonna get a third degree burn? Am I gonna get a tissue transplant?"

"Yeah, definitely. Shut up, Dunston. Get in the fucking car."

What a wuss, jesus. Hargrove starts the camaro and they get going.

"Where's the hospital?"

"Uh .. on Main Street? Like .. ten minutes from here. Ow."

Billy turns the cassette player on. "Seek and destroy" by Metallica starts playing.

He just wants to get home.

After about five minutes Roy looks at Billy like a puppy and says faint-heartedly

"Uhm .. Hargrove? I'm actually uh .. feeling much better, bro."

What the fuck?

"Don't fucking bro me."

"Huh?"

Billy's considering stopping the car and kicking Roy's ass out, leaving him on the side of the road

"Can we just drive back to Andy's?"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Dunston?"

Billy's taking a deep breath.

Sure. I'll drive you back. Only because it works out for me, buddy.

It's actually great. Much better than going all the way to the fucking hospital. He'll get home quicker and he'll still bail the party.

Billy's turning the camaro around, the back of the car drifts into a huge pile of snow. Roy's face turns sour

"Hey, asshat. Don't even think about puking in my car."

Roy is throwing a fearful glance at Billy

"Dude. I'm not an animal."

Billy drops Roy off and heads home. Jennifer must be pissed at him. Of course she is. He ditched the party, he didn't deliver, didn't bring her home.

Whatever.

***

Billy is stopping in Cherry Lane, but at a distance to their house. He's taking out a cigarette. The lighter clicks, and there's this distinct sound of tobacco crackling when the drag is especially deep and delicious. It's quiet, and he's not turning the music back on.

Is that disappointment? Hargrove was waiting for this party to get his hands on Harrington once again, and he had the chance, why the fuck did he say no?

He saw them kissing and, somehow, that was tonight's game changer.

Billy's fucking

Jealous ?

Steve asked him if he was. Mockingly. It was what, funny to him?

Is that what it is?

Billy's not jealous. It's not jealousy, it's just that .. it irks him, to see Harrington's arm coiled around some girl's waist, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth. It's ..

FUCK !! He hits the steering wheel, once, twice, three times, grabs it so tight, his knuckles hurt

What the fuck is happening? He doesn't want any of that. God, why .. the moment Billy thinks he's in control, something reminds him that's he is, in fact, not.

What a bunch of bullshit.

***

Looks like while all senior students of Hawkins high were having fun on Valentine's Day, Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers had something else going on.

It's Barb's funeral on Wednesday.

On Monday Steve gets up and gets down for breakfast to find his mom listening to the morning news.

" .. Ms. Holland's almost decomposed body was found in the woods more than half a year after her vanishing. The police haven't closed the case yet, but despite the major breakthrough, there is, unfortunately, no accurate information about what happened in June 1984.Theories have emerged among Hawkins citizens that this gruesome death could be connected with a leak of toxic substances from Hawkins laboratory, but the laboratory management and city authorities call such rumours unfounded and causing unreasonable panic. The police are leaning towards the version of a wild animal attack, however, the circumstances still remain unclear. Barbara Holland's funeral will take place on Wednesday, February 19th."

Thank god his mom is at home right now. Steve feels an unpleasant chill running down his back and fear beginning to stir inside him.

"Honey, are you going to go?"

"Yes, mom. I think I should."

At school Steve finds his ex-girlfriend who he hasn't talked to in ages.

"Hey uh .. Barb's funeral?"

"Are you going to come?"

"Yeah .. yeah of course."

He didn't know the girl well, just .. really, just her name. But he's connected to the whole story, he feels like he needs to do it.

Steve also has the right to know what went down. Since he's actually in on the supernatural stuff going on in Hawkins.

"Do you want to tell me more about it?"

"I can. But not right here. Meet me and Jonathan after school?"

"Yeah."

Tommy sees them talking and looks at him strange.

Hagan wants to catch up after classes, dish about the party and this and that, but Steve tells him he needs to take some notes from Nancy, so no. Steve suspects Tommy is feeling a lie in his words but there won't be any open confrontation this time.

"I'll drop by your place later, alright?"

Tommy's fine with that.

"Sure."

Nicole isn't talking to him cause, as far as Steve remembers, she's pissed at him for flirting with Tammy Thompson at the party. He may be guilty as charged. By the end of it, he got drunk to the point of unconsciousness and passed out on Andy's couch.

Bummer.

***

Steve later learns that Nancy and Jonathan - with Hopper's and Mrs. Byers' help, apparently, - found Barb's body in the Upside Down.

What's Upside Down?

Lucky you, if you don't know. Cause Steve does now, and the knowledge doesn't make him any happier.

Nancy seems more at peace. Like she's finally found closure.

"I've uh .. actually wanted to ask .. Who else knows about this thing? This whole thing? The other dimension and the monsters?"

"Just us and .. some kids, but that's it."

Us, okay.

"Wait, you said, kids ??"

"Yes, Steve."

It's a highly confidential matter, and some frigging kids know about it?

It all started with Will, Jonathan's brother because he was kept in the Upside Down for a week. Mike, Nancy's brother, knows it cause he's Will's best friend. A couple of more of their friends as well, because they are very tight, it's like their gang or something, and they all helped free Mike from the Demogorgon.

"Demogorgon, that monster ..? Are there others?"

No-one knows, they hope not, but they aren't sure. Can never be sure with supernatural stuff like that.

Steve gets it. Later during the day he visits Tommy, they stay in his room talking and Harrington feels a bit normal again.

On Wednesday, a quiet grey day, he attends the funeral. There aren't many people.

A couple of girls from school that used to be Barb's friends. Inconsolable parents. Chief Hopper and Joyce Byers. Nancy and Jonathan. Mrs. Wheeler and some Hawkins moms that are friends of family. The priest, Mr. Jones.

Steve's been at funerals before, when his grandparents passed away. He was little at that time, and didn't understand much.

He's never been at a funeral of a person his age.

It feels wrong.

Abnormal. Like something went very wrong in the way the world is supposed to work.

There are some unpleasant looking people Steve has never seen before. They are all dressed in black, and they all look like they don't have a heart. These ones are definitely from the government. Steve hopes he'll never see them again.

He's been doing so good lately, but of course, all of this is having its impact on him.

They are all prey.

Life and death, they walk hand in hand. You never know what's waiting for you around the corner. It's terrifying.

***

It's Friday evening. The week has been a lot. Having looked into death's ugly face, Steve wants to feel alive.

Steve could call Nicole, but she's angry at him. He doesn't want to apologize for nothing and listen to her mindless chatter.

He could meet up with Tommy but he can't share with his best friend the stuff he wants to. He can't talk with anyone about what happened, except for the people who are already in on the whole secret. Half of these people are, apparently, kids whose existence Steve has a very vague idea of, his ex-girlfriend, who has a new boyfriend, and Harrington doesn't have any desire to see either of them.

Hopper and Mrs. Byers are adults.

He knows who might make him feel good again, give him that special thrill. Like a jolt of electricity. Like a pull, to bring him back to the surface.

Seeing Hargrove doesn't require a conversation. They've only exchanged not more than a hundred phrases in total in what .. half a year? For the most part, they were insults and names. The closest the boys were to having a usual talk was at Christmas, and it was super brief anyway.

Steve doesn't need to talk with him.

What he wants is to be close to him, for a moment.

Some inexplicable strength and .. integrity emanate from Hargrove. When Steve's in his vicinity, it flows over him, like a tide. His broad shoulders, wide palms, the strong bull-like neck. Steve wants to bury his face in his neck and just breathe. Breathe in his scent. Feed on his energy.

They don’t need to talk for this and, if you come to think of it, there’s nothing for them to have a conversation about, really. Hargrove is not his friend. He's just a passerby, stopping in Steve's town for a year and then probably leaving in an unknown direction.

***

It's already late, and most likely, Mr. Dailey's garage is gonna be closing soon. Steve can ask about uhm .. Hargrove's shifts. Old man won't get suspicious or anything, Steve will just say that uh .. he was impressed with Billy's work and wanted to bring his friend's car for a check. Something like that.

Harrington goes to the repair shop. As he's driving closer, he spots Hargrove's Camaro, parked outside. Steve's not nervous, not at all. Just didn't expect Billy to actually be there. Maybe that's luck. Steve reaches for the glove compartment and takes something from there.

He gets out of his car, walks up to the open door. His heart is beating faster than usual.

"Hello? Mr. Dailey?"

Hargrove is crouching near the wheel of an old dodge pick-up. There's also a ford escort standing nearby. Steve leans on it.

Billy's standing up slowly.

"I'm closing up. Mr. Dailey went home."

"Oh. Hey. He trusts you that much?"

"You wanted to talk to him?"

"No. I mean, yes."

Billy's getting hot under Harrington's stare.

"What do you want?"

"I was thinking .. my car needs an oil change."

Harrington probably doesn't know anything about cars beyond having its oil changed regularly. However, it seems he has no idea how often if should be done.

He's such a dumbass, he's so pretty, it's infuriating.

Standing there in his unzipped jacket, hands in pockets, hair all slicked back in waves. Looking too clean, too neat, a fucking rich pampered baby. Billy's wearing his coveralls, he smells like machine oil, a grease monkey

"You don't need a change. I did it like two weeks ago."

"I know."

Billy looks Steve straight in the eye, and Harrington stops blinking.

"So what do you want, Harrington?"

Steve's gaze rakes over Billy's face and stops at his lips

"You know what I want."

Fucking hell. Billy's blood runs cold. And then, a second later, it runs fucking hot, like fiery lava.

Those lips drawing him in

Like a vortex

Harrington took him by surprise, Billy wasn't prepared to see him here

He's taken off guard. That's why

He fucking hopelessly wants to kiss the lips.

Why is he so weak for this bitch?

He's also absolutely not ready for this. Like this. Out in the open, he's not drunk, he's not initiating it. Harrington's taking the reigns, and Billy's knees wobble.

He came all the way down here for this.

Drove across town for this.

Billy turns around, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth, goes to his jacket, hanging on a peg, and takes out a joint.

"Wanna split?"

"Sure."

"Can't smoke in here."

"My car? I forgot to turn the engine off, it's uh .. warm in there?"

You forgot to turn the engine off, who does that.

They get in the backseat of Steve's beamer. It feels weird. Billy's fingers are shaking when he's lighting the joint.

Like a virgin

Touched for the very first time

He passes it to Harrington and their fingers brush lightly

His whole body jerks.

"I told you to stay away from me."

"When?" Steve throws his head back a little, taking a drag, holding the blunt with his long delicate fingers

Billy's watching his Adam's apple go up and down. He wants to know how it'll move under his lips, under his tongue

"Valentine's?"

"I uh .. I think I drank too much that night. Couldn't remember much in the morning."

That kinda explains his visit.

"Why should I stay away from you?"

There's a faint smile on Harrington's lips

Billy doesn't answer.

He's at a crossroads. He's inhaling the bittersweet smoke.

Hargrove can once again tell Steve to fuck off. Bust his nose if he's gonna be dense about it.

Or he can see how far he, Billy, is willing to go.

Their fingers keep grazing when they pass each other the joint, and Billy's heart keeps on pumping blood into his dick. His abdomen aches.

It's almost finished, Billy takes the last drag, and then one more, burning his finger pads, cracks the door open to throw what's left of it on the ground and the moment he's closing the door and turning to Harrington

Steve throws himself at Billy

Their teeth clash

And they don't kiss first

They bite.

It's becoming gentler, both of them close their eyes, the kisses are deeper, the hands are braver

How far is Billy willing to go?

Harrington's hands are all over his body

Feeling, squeezing

Steve lets out the most pathetic whine

And Billy's putting his palm on Harrington's crotch

He is so fucking hard.

He needs him under.

Hargrove grabs Steve by the shoulders and now it's Billy who's pressing him into the seat. Of course, it's cramped, of course, it's uncomfortable, but neither of them gives a fuck because both

Are burning.

Billy unbuckles the belt and unbuttons Steve's pants - just like in his dream, just like he's been imagining it. He slides the zipper down and Harrington is bucking his thighs up, trying to bring his pants down a bit

Hargrove's impatient. He gets his hand into Steve's underwear

Like he wanted to

Into the heat

Oh my god

Into the slightly sweaty hairy heat

Billy's feeling dizzy, he has no control whatsoever - what fucking control, he has none

He's spinning on ice

The last coherent thought that's flashing through his mind is

He's making a mistake. That's for sure.

Yet the chemical reaction has been set in motion and Billy's about to catch blaze.

He suddenly stops but Steve looks at him with those pools of darkness, whispers

"Come on .."

And Billy .. he gives in, completely.

He is slowly, gently, taking the other boy's hard dick in his hand, making the sensation register in his mind

Then grips it tight, and gentle caress yields to confident roughness

He's holding Steve's dick

Like his own when he's jerking off.

It's fucking cramped, but it's also so hot, in the backseat of King Steve's car

Billy's moving his hand up and down, relentless and quick, and his lips find Steve's again

They are kissing, kissing so wild, sucking on each other's tongues,

A mix of their smells. Perfumes, machine oil, cigarettes, weed, mint gum, sweat ..

Billy wants to crush him under his weight

And Harrington doesn't seem to mind, oh no, the guy is a needy bitch, because he's pulling, pulling him down, on top of himself, like he wants Hargrove to cover him whole

The warmth of Steve's dick, the wetness, the absolutely deranging tenderness of skin

It's all ..

Oh god

Billy's trying to give himself some friction with his right hand

And, really, they both don't need a lot of time

He could count the minutes by the fingers of one hand only. Or even seconds. He's not sure

He feels Harrington's body twitch and shudder, his moans getting stuck in his throat

He stops kissing Billy, throws his head back and Hargrove gets to stare at the dancing Adam's apple again

Billy's palm is covered in Harrington's hot cum, and that sensation pushes him down the cliff

His own body jerks uncontrollably

And it's .. it's quick and

It's over, and Hargrove's backing up, wiping his hand on the coveralls, opening the door because he needs air

He sees a pack of Parliament on the front passenger's seat and he's reaching for it, taking a cigarette out, he needs to give his fingers sometimes to do, they are back to shaking

And Billy fucking hates it,

Since when did he become such a trembling pile of jello?

"Give me one."

Billy's not sure how to look at Steve's face again.

Like a virgin

He does, look. He's not a coward. He gives him a cigarette and even clicks the lighter for him, regretting it immediately because Steve looks

Fucking royal. Like Billy's just serviced the King.

Reclining in the seat, so relaxed, so .. so fucking pretty, with the puffy bruised lips

With hair a mess and zipper still down, and black underwear on display

FUUUUCK

"Hey, do you still have my number?"

Billy's shrugging his wide shoulders like he can't really remember, like it's not important

"No, I don't think so."

They smoke in silence.

They get out of the car, first Billy, then Steve.

Harrington is zipping up and closing the belt. Billy slams the door of the beamer

"What did you do with the note?"

"I put it in my fucking secret journal where I write poems and keep wilted flowers and shit, Harrington. How the fuck should I know? I don't keep trash. Probably threw it away."

Harrington purses his lips. Looks a bit offended.

It's fucking awkward.

Billy heads inside the garage. He's not gonna say bye or any stupid shit like that. In the garage he gets down on one knee, the front of his underwear wet and sticky, starts putting the tools away. He hopes Steve's gonna go now, and he's relieved to hear the sound of the beamer taking off.

***

Billy needs to change his clothes, close the place up, check the lights and stuff. He's not gonna think of anything now. He's not gonna think of anything ever. He's still fucking blushing, cheeks running feverish

Like a virgin

He still thinks it was a mistake. A delicious, much wanted mistake.

Billy goes into the back room, undresses, takes off the underwear and wipes his belly and pubes with it. Puts his usual clothes on, jeans feeling cold on his naked ass and balls. Grabs the dirty boxer briefs, turns the lights in the room off.

Heads for the door, takes the jacket off the peg, stuffs the underwear in its pocket. Looks around to check if everything's okay, hits the light switch, locks the place up. Normally his boss is the last one to leave but tonight his wife called him home earlier, some family stuff, Billy didn't pry.

***

When Billy's back home, he takes the jacket to his room. He closes the door, digs into the jacket pocket, pulls out the underwear and together with it, a piece of paper falls out. Billy tosses the briefs on his bedside table and picks up

A note.

Déjà vu.

A phone number in black ink

And

FUCKING CALL ME

In capital letters now.

Billy's scoff is full of contempt

He's sitting down on his bed, holding the paper

Again? Steve has done the same move with the note, again ??

What a stupid dork. Lame game, amigo

When did he even find time to slide it into Billy's jacket?

Fucking sneaky asshole

If it's so lame, why is it working?

Cause look at Billy smiling.

The second time this week, no less.

Stupid Harrington. The motherfucker is even kinda .. cute. Sometimes.

Oh my fucking god.

A spoiled rich boy who's sexy, mean, pretty and .. fucking cute now. And never leaving Billy's mind. Despite all his attempts to keep a clear mind about it.

Harrington shows up and leaves a mess.

It's a problem.

What's worse, it looks like the problem isn't going away, isn't resolving itself. It's taking even deeper roots.

So many things in goddamnforsaken Hawkins that Billy's never had the experience of dealing with.

Like jerking off King Steve in the backseat of his beamer.

He's not gonna think about ramifications of his actions.

Shower and sleep.

Hargrove cums again in the shower recalling tonight's sensations. It wasn't enough, he doesn't feel satisfied. In fact, he's feeling hornier than ever.

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic #harringrove slow burn #season1steve x billy #harringrove high school shenanigans #harringrove drunk shenanigans

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