Summary: After moving from California, the five members of the Mayfield-Hargrove family start a new life in Hawkins, Indiana. You are Max's older sister, who is the same age as Billy. You three have a great relationship; it's you against the world until you meet new people and realize the world can be a little different from what you thought it would be. But until all comes to a happy resolution, Billy is fighting for the King of Hawkings High title, and his behavior affects Steve's perception of your family, with tension growing among him, Billy, and you until something happens and the dynamics change.
Or, because of Billy, you can't stand Steve initially, developing a slow-burning enemies-to-lovers romance with him through your senior year in Hawkins High.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Mayfield reader
Word count: 28.2k (so far)
Warnings: AU - Alternative Universe (no Upside Down), no use of y/n, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fluffy and eventual smut, Billy is not a racist, Billy and Max have a good relationship, Hopper and Joyce adopt Steve and Jane/El, Nancy and Steve never dated, bi Steve, pan Eddie, found family, everyone has a happy ending, Neil is a asshole
Note: Hey! This is my first full fanfiction ever, and I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing and reading it. English is not my first language, so if some cultural or grammatical details are incorrect, please keep that in mind. Stranger Things is the only TV series I have continued to really love from its release until its end, and over the years, my passion for the characters has just grown. Steve Harrington means a lot to me. Joe Keery himself also saved my life, alongside Steve, at the beginning of this year, so writing it and showing it to you, guys, is my way of a love letter to both of them. Have a nice adventure, I gave the characters just happy endings, the endings I always thought they deserved, hope you all enjoy it :)
“Your what shower?”
“My everything shower.”
“The hell's an everything shower?”
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gator tillman x reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: established relationship, touch-starved!gator, soft!gator, grumpy x sunshine, suggestive content, domestic fluff, mostly non-sexual nudity, hair washing, massaging, grumpy man gets exfoliated against his will, angst if you squint
𝐚/𝐧: shoutout to this ask for pushing me to finish this!
♡ · · · ♡ · · · ♡
“What the fuck is all that?”
The question stops you halfway through the bedroom doorway.
You nearly lose your grip on everything at once. Three different bottles wobble dangerously in your arms, your oversized tub of vanilla sugar scrub pressed against your chest hard enough to leave an imprint. A fluffy white robe hangs from your elbow, and the container of hair mask is clenched between your teeth because you made the mistake of thinking you could carry just one more thing.
From the bed, Gator stares at you like you’ve just walked in hauling tactical equipment.
The room is dim except for the glow of the TV, some hunting show droning quietly in the background, forgotten the second he noticed you. He’s sprawled out on top of the comforter in gray sweats, one hand shoved under his shirt while the other holds his phone against his chest.
His eyes drag slowly over the pile in your arms.
You've been caught red-handed.
“It’s... for my everything shower.”
“Your what shower?”
“My everything shower.”
“The hell's an everything shower?”
You walk farther into the room, dumping everything onto the dresser with loud plastic clacks. “It’s my full routine. Hair mask, exfoliating, shaving, skin care. The whole thing.”
“A hair mask,” he repeats slowly.
“Yes.”
“You put a mask on your hair.”
“Well, it’s basically just deep conditioner.”
“But y’call it a mask.”
“Yes, Gator.”
He squints harder, visibly trying to work through the logic of that.
Honestly, you can’t even blame him.
You’ve seen your boyfriend's shower routine.
Well, calling it a routine is generous.
One sad, dented bottle of cheap 3-in-1 shoved in the corner of the tub with the label peeling halfway off. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, face wash—it probably doubles as dish soap and engine degreaser too. You once asked him what face cleanser he used and he looked at you like you’d started speaking French.
You walk over to the bed with a sigh, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweats.
“C’mere. I’ll show you.”
“I know how showers work.”
“Do you, though?”
“Real funny.”
Still, he lets you tug him up. Peels off the mattress with a groan, warm and sleepy, hair sticking up everywhere from laying around all evening. His shirt rides up when he stretches, exposing a strip of skin and the soft trail of hair disappearing beneath his sweats.
He follows you toward the bathroom, scratching absently at his stomach while he grumbles under his breath.
“You women use too much shit.”
“Yeah, and you use dish soap to wash your whole body.”
“It cleans me, don’t it?”
“Mm, debatable.”
He snorts, stepping behind you as you twist the shower handle. Water blasts against the tile, steam already beginning to curl through the air. The bathroom warms quickly, mirrors fogging at the edges while you line up bottles along the shelf with practiced precision.
Gator leans against the sink watching you.
The second your shirt hits the floor, he goes dead silent.
You feel it before you even turn around—that heavy, heat-soaked stare settling low on your back and dragging slowly downward.
You glance up toward the fogging mirror and catch him watching openly, head tipped back while his eyes track the slow slide of your shorts down your thighs.
Teeth catching on his bottom lip, pupils gone dark.
There’s nothing subtle about the look on his face.
By the time your shorts pool around your ankles, he’s already pushing lazily off the sink.
You barely get half a breath in before his palm cracks sharply against your ass.
The sound echoes off the tile.
You jolt with a gasp, shooting him an unimpressed look over your shoulder while he just stands there grinning crookedly at you.
“Gator.”
“What?” he smirks, all fake innocence, though his voice has already dropped rough around the edges. His hand lingers where he smacked you, fingers spreading possessively over the curve of your hip. “You standin’ there lookin’ like that... ain’t my fault.”
You turn away before he can catch you smiling.
By the time you step into the shower, the room is thick with steam. Warm water pours over your shoulders the second you step under the spray, heavy enough to make you sigh. Heat slides down your spine, loosening every tight muscle in your body.
A second later, the shower curtain jerks open.
Then:
“Oh—jesus CHRIST—!”
You burst out laughing as Gator physically recoils the second the water hits him, one hand slapping against the tile wall to keep from slipping on his bare ass.
“Why the fuck is it so hot?”
“It’s not that hot!”
“My skin’s peelin’ off!”
“It’s just warm.”
“Goddamn, it’s like Satan’s asshole in here.”
You laugh harder, grabbing his wrist before he can escape.
“C’mere.”
“No, wait—hang on, hang—babe—”
You yank him fully under the spray.
Hot water drenches him instantly.
His hair flattens against his forehead, dark strands dripping into his eyes. He squints through it with a look of genuine betrayal while the spray beats against his shoulders.
“Shit—” He jerks slightly, hissing through his teeth when the water hits the back of his neck. “Y’tryna boil me alive?”
“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic.”
“I’m serious.” His hands land on your waist like he needs support through this deeply traumatic experience. “I’m literally cookin’ in here.”
The heat has already flushed his skin pink across his chest and up into his cheeks. Tiny beads of water cling to his lashes every time he blinks, steam blurring the usual sharpness of him—the hard set of his brows, the tension around his mouth.
He looks so soft like this.
Prettier, somehow.
Especially with those flushed, perpetually pouty lips.
You can’t help but smile.
“You’re such a baby,” you coo softly, reaching up to smooth his soaked hair back. “C’mere, you big baby.”
He grumbles something vaguely offensive under his breath, even while leaning into your touch.
Your palms slide over warm, wet skin, fingertips tracing through the damp hair over his sternum before your arms curl loosely around his neck. Water streams between your bodies in hot sheets, slicking your skin together every time he shifts closer.
And he is close now.
Chest pressed against yours, big hands spread over your waist. He’s radiating heat under your palms, muscles slowly relaxing despite all his complaining.
You cup his face in both hands, rubbing your thumbs affectionately over his flushed cheeks.
He sniffs once, still pretending to pout, though his eyes have already started drooping heavier from the heat. A bead of water slides down the bridge of his nose before disappearing against his mouth.
God, he’s gorgeous like this.
Dripping wet, hair hanging in his face, lips pink from the heat and pulled into that stubborn little pout he gets whenever he wants attention but refuses to ask for it directly.
You kiss him before he can start complaining again.
And, for all his dramatic huffing and bitching, a quick press to his baby-pink lips is all it takes.
The second your mouth touches his, he melts.
A low sound rumbles deep in his chest as his arm snakes tighter around your waist, hauling you flush against him beneath the spray. The kiss starts lazy, warm and lingering, and he sighs into it like he’s been waiting for it since the second he stepped under the water.
“Mm,” he mumbles, mouth curling against yours, “So this ‘everything shower’ thing…”
You already know what he’s about to say.
“…that include me bendin’ you over in five minutes or...?”
You laugh into his mouth.
“Gator.”
“What? You said everything.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“False advertisin’, then.”
He steals another kiss before you can answer, smiling into it this time, all smug and pleased with himself. His hands spread possessively over the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles against your hips.
When you shove lightly at his chest, he barely moves.
“Focus,” you tell him.
“I am focused.”
“On the shower.”
“I can multitask.”
“No, you cannot.”
He grins against your temple, pressing one lingering kiss there before finally loosening his grip enough to let you move around him.
Barely.
Even then, his hand stays planted firmly on your hip while you start reaching for products.
And despite all his whining about how hot the water is—despite the way he keeps distracting you every thirty seconds by kissing your shoulder, squeezing your ass, groping your tits, dragging his hands over your stomach whenever you lean forward—
He’s fascinated.
You can see it all over his face, clear as anything.
His eyes follow every little thing you do. The loofah hanging from the hook. The jars lined neatly along the shelf. The soft clicks of lids opening and the thick, sweet scents blooming through the steam one by one: vanilla, cocoa butter, orange blossom, lavender.
“So what’s all this shit for?” he asks eventually.
“Language.”
He snorts and picks up one of your body oils carefully, turning it over in his massive hand while water drips from his wrist.
“Why’s this bottle so fuckin' tiny?”
“’Cause it’s expensive.”
“How expensive?”
You hesitate.
His eyes narrow immediately. “How expensive.”
“…Thirty dollars.”
“For that tiny-ass bottle?”
“It’s good oil!”
He looks genuinely horrified.
“Holy shit. You could buy, like… a car part with that.”
“Yeah, because those are definitely comparable purchases.”
He rolls his eyes, turning his attention on the scrub jar in your hand.
He squints at the label through the water dripping into his eyes.
“Sugar scrub?”
“Yeah.”
“The hell’s that mean?”
You grin instantly. “Hold still.”
His eyes narrow with immediate suspicion. “Why.”
“You ask too many questions.”
Before he can move away, you scoop a handful into your palm.
It’s your favorite scrub too—the ridiculously overpriced strawberry pound cake one that smells good enough to eat, warm brown sugar and whipped vanilla frosting.
You rub it over his forearm without warning.
He flinches immediately. “Ow, what the fuck—"
"Relax."
Sugar crystals drag slowly across his skin while your hands work over the hard muscle of his arm. The scrub softens beneath the heat, turning slick and grainy between your fingers.
His brows pinch together while he watches you.
“…What’s it even doin’?”
“Gets rid of dead skin.”
“I don’t got dead skin.”
“Everybody has dead skin.”
“I don’t.”
“Sure, babe.”
He eyes the scrub suspiciously while you keep going. "Is this gonna make my arm all... glittery, or whatever?"
“...No.”
“You hesitated.”
“No, I didn’t!" you insist, laughing. “I do have a glitter shower jelly though.”
“A what.”
“A shower jelly.”
“The fuck is a shower jelly?”
The grin spreading across your face makes him immediately point at you.
“No.”
“Too late!”
You twist around beneath the spray, reaching behind him toward the crowded shower shelf. Your fingers close around the little plastic pot wedged between your body wash and conditioner. It jiggles in your hand when you pick it up—golden and translucent, packed with tiny flecks of glitter that catch under the warm bathroom light.
You plop it directly into his palm.
The jelly slips against his skin, wobbling in his hand like a living thing, and his entire face twists in genuine alarm.
“What the fuc—why’s it doin’ that?”
You dissolve into laughter, doubling over against him while he stares down at the jiggling soap with genuine distrust, holding it out at arm’s length like it might suddenly grow teeth.
“This ain’t right,” he mutters, poking it cautiously with his thumb.
“It’s just soap!”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes while you hide your face in his shoulder, laughter shaking out of you in muffled bursts against his warm skin. His chest hitches once beneath you, reluctant amusement creeping in despite himself.
When you finally manage to pull back and look at him, his expression has changed completely.
Water slides slowly down his face in shimmering trails, gathering at his jaw before dripping down to his chest.
He’s not looking at the shower jelly anymore.
He’s looking at you.
Hazel eyes much softer than you’re used to, focused in a way that makes your laughter taper off.
It still manages to catch you off guard, even after all this time.
Because Gator’s never been good at saying things straight out. He jokes, he deflects, he fills silence with anger and attitude—whatever comes easiest.
But sometimes, when he looks at you like this, it feels like he doesn’t need to say anything at all.
You’re still peering up at him when he blinks, huffing as he tosses the shower jelly toward the shelf without even looking where it lands.
“Thing’s fuckin’ haunted.”
Then his hands settle on your waist.
Big, warm palms slide around your hips without hesitation, dragging you forward until there’s no space left between you.
You squeak when you lose your footing against the slick tile.
“Gator—!” you gasp, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself, laughter spilling out of you again even as your pulse jumps.
“What?” he says, mouth curling into that lazy, knowing grin.
“I almost slipped,” you breathe, trying to find balance against his chest.
“Nah.” His smile widens. “Got you.”
Then his nose nudges along your neck, inhaling deeply.
“Why’s all this shit smell like food, huh?”
You huff a laugh, squirming when his lips skim the damp skin just below your ear.
“Jelly,” he mutters between kisses. “Sugar scrub. Vanilla frosting. Coconut whatever… what’s next? Rotisserie chicken lotion?”
That gets another laugh out of you, helpless and bright, the sound buried as you press closer into his shoulder. Your arms slide up around his neck, fingers threading through the damp hair at the nape.
“I’m serious,” he mutters, though you can tell he’s smiling too. You hear it in the lazy drawl of his words, feel it in the way his chest vibrates beneath your cheek. “Like I’m showerin’ inside a damn bakery.”
You love moments like this.
Doing nothing else but being close with one another, swaying under the steady press of warm water, cocooned in steam while the rest of the world falls away.
His hands move absentmindedly over your back, gliding up and down your skin in a comforting rhythm.
Then, naturally, his grip slides lower on your hips.
You feel the shift in him before you even see it, his grin turning cocky in a way that always spells trouble.
“So…” he murmurs, voice dropping low in his chest. “Can we fuck now?”
You snort, pushing lightly at his shoulders so you can look at him properly.
His expression is completely shameless, nothing but open, unapologetic confidence.
You wouldn’t expect anything less from your boyfriend.
“No,” you say flatly.
His expression sours. “No?”
“We still have to exfoliate.”
Gator rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he doesn’t injure himself.
“You’re killin’ me.”
But he doesn’t let go.
And honestly, the longer this goes on, the less he even pretends he wants out of the shower.
Especially once your hands slide higher over his shoulders.
The second your thumbs press into the tight muscle at the base of his neck, his whole body jerks beneath your hands.
“Jesus…” he mutters under his breath.
“Too hard?”
“No,” he says immediately. “Just... keep goin’.”
That alone makes you smile again.
Because two weeks ago this man would’ve rather thrown himself into traffic than let something pink and strawberry-scented anywhere near him.
Now he’s standing beneath scalding water while you rub sugar scrub into his shoulders, massaging the tension out of him like a spoiled housecat.
You take your time with him, working your thumbs into the tendons there.
God, he’s tight everywhere.
The muscles across his shoulders feel hard as stone beneath your palms, thick bands of tension packed so tightly they barely move under your touch. Every time your thumbs drag across another knot, his breathing catches slightly.
Your smile fades little by little.
“Baby,” you murmur quietly, “when’s the last time you relaxed your shoulders?”
“Uh, dunno.”
“You don’t know?”
He shrugs, though even that movement looks stiff.
“Never really think about it.”
Your fingers drag slowly down the back of his neck again, pressing into another rigid knot there.
“Gator,” you say softly, brows pulling together, “you’re hard as a brick back here.”
He snorts quietly at that.
You roll your eyes, but the innuendo doesn’t land quite the same now.
Because once you really start paying attention—really feeling him beneath your hands—you realize how tense he actually is.
Every inch of him feels wound tight.
His shoulders sit high even while he’s supposedly relaxed, thick muscles rigid beneath your palms no matter how much steam fills the shower or how hot the water runs over him.
Like he’s always bracing for something.
The realization tightens something in your chest in return.
And maybe he notices the shift in you, because after that, he goes unusually quiet.
No more smartass comments. He just stands there under the spray while you finish working the scrub over him.
The pink sugar crystals melt gradually beneath the water, dissolving against warm skin while your fingers work over the hard planes of his chest and shoulders.
Gator watches your hands more than anything else.
You notice it every time you glance up.
His eyes tracking the slow circles of your palms, the drag of your nails lightly scratching through the damp hair on his chest. The way you smooth water over his shoulders afterward.
You catch yourself wondering, briefly, if this is something he’s ever really experienced before outside of sex—outside of anything physical and fleeting. Being touched without it carrying an expectation, without it needing to lead anywhere else or turn into something more.
His shoulders begin to drop first. Then his jaw loosens. Then the permanent little line between his brows eases until he stops looking so guarded all the time.
"Kinda feels nice, I guess,” he admits after a while, voice quieter than usual.
You smile to yourself.
“Yeah?”
“Mm.”
When you reach for the shampoo, he tips his head forward without being asked.
You work the product through his hair slowly, fingers sliding into damp strands as the scent of citrus and jasmine fills the steam around you. It lingers warm and clean, cutting through the heavy sweetness left from everything else.
Then your nails scrape lightly across his scalp.
And the sound he makes is... well.
Your gaze lifts slowly.
Gator’s standing completely still beneath the spray, eyes shut tight, brows pinched together while a slow breath slips through his parted lips.
“Gates, was that...?”
His eyes snap open.
“No.”
The denial comes way too fast.
You stare at him for exactly one second before laughter slips out of you.
“Oh my god, it was!”
“It was not.”
“Yes, it was!”
“No, it wasn’t. Shut up.”
You bite back another laugh at how seriously he suddenly sounds about it.
His cheeks are already flushed pink from the heat, but now the color creeps higher—up the tips of his ears too.
Interesting.
Purple-tinted shampoo runs in slow trails down his temples as he glares at you through wet lashes, mouth twitching while water streams down the sharp slope of his nose.
“You’re annoyin’,” he murmurs. “I’m leavin’.”
“No, you’re not.”
To prove your point, you drag your nails lightly against his scalp again.
A gruff noise slips out of him before he can stop it this time, low and helpless, pulled up from somewhere deep in his throat. His eyes squeeze shut and his hands tighten briefly at your waist.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “I hate you.”
“Liar.”
He makes no move to leave.
If anything, his grip on your waist tightens when you start rinsing the shampoo from his hair, angling his head toward you so you don’t have to reach so far.
You’ve known Gator long enough to understand how big this actually is.
Because for all his flirting and constant touching, genuine softness doesn’t always come naturally to him.
Not receiving it, anyway.
He’s good at grabbing your waist to pull you into his lap while you’re trying to cook dinner. Good at kissing your neck in the kitchen while murmuring filthy things against your skin just to hear you laugh.
He knows how to want, how to take up space.
But this?
Standing still while somebody takes care of him?
That’s different.
And for the first time since he stepped into the bathroom, he looks completely calm.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him be this still for so long.
Usually there’s always something twitching in him somewhere—a bouncing knee, fingers tapping against his thigh, shoulder bunched up to his neck and his jaw locked tight like he’s perpetually gearing up for a fight.
But right now, he just looks tired.
Like he doesn’t feel the need to bury it, for once. Safe enough to let the exhaustion sit in him without pushing it away.
So you keep touching him gently. Combing your fingers through his hair while water pours through the strands in dark rivulets, nails scraping softly over the base of his skull until he shivers.
By the time you finally finish rinsing him off, Gator looks completely wrung out.
His cheeks are flushed deep pink from standing under the heat too long, damp hair sticking up in uneven directions, his eyes gone heavy-lidded in that sleepy way they get late at night.
You step out first, wrapping a towel around yourself while he stands there dripping on the bathmat, rubbing absently at his own forearm.
His brows furrow thoughtfully.
“Huh.”
You glance over while tightening your towel. “What?”
He rubs his arm again slowly, fingertips sweeping over the skin where you used the scrub earlier.
“…Feels different.”
The smile that breaks across your face is immediate.
“Right?!”
You sound so aggressively excited about it that he snorts quietly, shaking his head.
Still, he keeps touching his arm.
Testing the skin with obvious confusion, thumb brushing over the softness there.
“Huh,” he says again, quieter this time.
Then, because he physically cannot allow himself to sound too impressed for longer than thirty seconds, he shrugs and reaches for a towel.
“S’fine, I guess.”
Which, translated from Gator-speak, is basically a standing ovation.
You grin to yourself while he drags the towel roughly over his hair—
Then immediately shakes his head like a dog, spraying droplets all over the floor.
“Oh my—Gator!”
...
Afterward, you settle onto the bathroom counter in one of his oversized shirts, rubbing lotion into your legs while the room stays thick with leftover warmth.
Everything smells sweet, vanilla and strawberry sugar lingering heavy in the humid air.
Gator sprawls across the closed toilet seat nearby in a fresh pair of sweatpants, elbows planted on his knees while he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes.
You try not to stare too much at how pretty he looks like this too, softened and comfortable, relaxed enough to practically fall asleep upright.
You hold up a bottle.
“This one’s toner.”
“Uh huh.”
“This one’s moisturizer.”
He gives you a flat look.
“Yeah,” he drawls slowly. “I know what moisturizer is, babe.”
You ignore him.
“And this one’s hyaluronic acid.”
“You put acid on your face?”
“It’s not that kind of acid.”
His skeptical hmph makes you laugh quietly while you pat serum into your cheeks.
And even though he’d rather chew glass than admit it out loud, something about all of this clearly gets under his skin in a way he doesn’t entirely hate.
It's starts small at first.
Lingering in the bathroom doorway while you do your nighttime routine, pretending he’s only there because he’s “waitin’ for you to finish the hell up already.”
He picks up random bottles in the meantime, squinting suspiciously at labels.
“What’s body butter supposed to be?”
“It’s moisturizer.”
“So lotion.”
“Thicker lotion.”
“That’s stupid.”
Three days later you catch him using it.
Only because, apparently, “my hands are dry as shit.”
Then he uses it again the next night.
And the night after that.
After that, it stops being occasional.
You start catching him using your products without even asking first.
Rubbing lotion into his hands while standing in the kitchen. Swiping your expensive lip balm across his mouth while pretending not to notice you watching him.
And honestly, you think part of it stops being about the products pretty quickly.
You think he likes the familiarity of it. The closeness.
Smelling your body wash on his skin. Coconut lotion rubbed into his knuckles and vanilla sweetness clinging faintly to the collar of his shirts.
Little pieces of you following him around.
It becomes most obvious after rough days.
The kind where he comes home exhausted down to the bone, shoulders slumped, smelling like sweat and engine oil.
Sometimes he barely makes it through the front door before he drops, collapsing face-first into your chest with a groan. His forehead presses into your shoulder while his arms wrap loosely around your waist.
And when you run your fingers through his hair and murmur, “Everything shower?” he’ll let out a long exhale against your neck before mumbling a tired little, “Yeah,” into your shirt.
Some nights he’s too drained for anything else.
He just stands beneath the spray with his eyes closed while you wash his hair slowly, his hands resting heavy on your waist more for grounding than anything possessive.
Other nights, though, he’s more awake.
More opinionated.
“Wait,” he says one evening, catching your wrist before you grab a scrub jar. “Not that one.”
You blink over your shoulder. “What, this one?”
“Nah.” He points lazily toward the shelf. “The other one.”
“The cotton candy scrub?”
“…Yeah.”
You can’t help it—you grin a little, slow and knowing.
“What? It smells better than that strawberry cake shit.”
Soon enough you’re rubbing cotton candy and shea butter into his skin, pink suds sliding down his tattooed bicep while he stands there acting like this is all one giant inconvenience he’s tolerating for your sake.
And in return, he starts taking care of you too.
Not always gracefully, and definitely not innocently.
His hands wander plenty, soap-slick palms gliding over your hips, sudsing up your tits and ass under the excuse of “helping.”
Sometimes it’s worse when he’s half asleep. Distracted kisses pressed against your shoulder while you’re mid-sentence, mouthing lazily along your neck as he absentmindedly drags the loofah across your stomach.
You’ll be talking about your day and suddenly realize he stopped listening five minutes ago because he got distracted kissing your collarbone.
But underneath all the flirting and grabbing and constant horny commentary, something softer grows there too.
Comfort in the repetition of it.
In knowing that no matter how exhausting the week gets, eventually there’s this: warm steam, your skin pressed up against his, the familiar clutter of bottles lined along the shelf and your voice explaining what each one does while he pretends not to care—even though he remembers every single one.
It becomes yours.
This quiet little thing that belongs only to the two of you.
Most nights, things do escalate eventually. Slow kisses wrapped up in steam-heavy air, wet skin sliding together while his mouth finds your throat and your fingers tangle in his hair.
But sometimes he’s honestly too tired for any of that.
Sometimes it ends exactly here.
With dryer-warmed towels and sleepy silence afterward, the bedroom dark and cool against freshly showered skin while Gator stretches across the bed with a groan, head dropping heavily into your lap.
You scratch lightly against his scalp, carding your fingers through his damp hair while he drifts in and out of sleep.
His arms slide around your waist eventually, a little clumsy with exhaustion before settling properly. He pulls you closer until his face presses into your stomach, breath warm through your shirt.
“Mmfh…” he mumbles, words blurred heavily by sleep. “You’re the… the best thing that ever happen’ to me, y’know that?”
You know there’s a good chance he won’t fully remember saying it tomorrow.
Not because he doesn’t mean it; just because honesty comes easier when he’s too exhausted to keep it buried.
You smile, fingers never stopping their slow rhythm through his hair.
“I love you too,” you murmur back, just as gentle.
And you think, as he drifts into sleep in your lap, that he looks most like himself when he stops trying to be anything at all.
Summary: It's PE class, so you and Steve will play together on the same team at his request. How will the other players receive you? How will the class go?
Word count: 2.3k
Note: Hey! See, I'm a little biased, but I really enjoyed writing it as well. Their dynamic playing was so fun and lovely to write, and I hope you feel the same.
AO3 link | Wattpad link | serie's masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter
Tuesday, November 27th, 1984
Eddie is waiting for you to change, leaning back beside the ladies’ bathroom, twisting the elastic band around his fingers as the door opens and you exit in sports shorts and a basket-like shirt, with a long-sleeved shirt underneath, the sleeves rolled up.
Eddie wolf-whistles, walking aside you, heading to the gym, grabbing your backpack off your shoulder, and hanging on to his. “The most gorgeous lady to ever be on a court, milady. Can’t wait to see you shoot a ball to the basket.”
You roll your eyes, laughing, “Don’t create so much expectation towards me. I just like to play, I'm not good or anything, so please don't laugh at me if I miss a shot or something.”
“Milady! I would never laugh at you! What a blasphemy it would be!” he says on his theatrical way, pushing the gym door open to let you pass, him coming after.
“Sorry, milord,” you laugh, “I’m so used to guys laughing at me while I’m playing that I forgot you’re not like that.” You open your backpack, grab your bottle of water, and drink it.
While both of you are heading to the lowest row of the bleachers, the gym door bangs shut, making Steve look up from the court where he is playing with Billy.
He finds you, his eyes landing on you, the ball in his hands. God, you look beautiful even when wearing basketball clothes. The sleeveless shirt was a little above the middle of your thighs, oversized, and your shorts ended at the middle of them.
Billy notices Steve is distracted since he hasn't passed the ball yet. He follows his gaze, finding you in that direction.
Eddie is seated, leaning back at the bleachers, you standing up in front of him, getting ready to go in. He glances at the court and sees something interesting.
He bends over a little, looking up at you. “Guess I was not the only one who thought you're gorgeous in this outfit, milady,” he wiggles his eyebrows, smirking, pointing ahead of him with his chin.
You, confused, turn back, following Eddie’s gaze, and land on Steve, with the ball still in his hands, looking at you.
Steve looks away when your eyes cross, eyes widening in desperation. Holding the ball tightly in his hands, heat spreading from his chest to his face, his eyes, coincidentally, land on Billy, who is also looking at him.
Billy laughs, noticing that Steve's confidence has suddenly disappeared, leaving him his nervous self, embarrassed that you caught him looking. He steps closer, grabbing the ball from his hands, spinning it on his finger.
“That’s the reason you called her to play on your team, Harrington?” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“No! NO! Of course not! It was because she likes to play and-” he says without breathing, his hands agitated, his voice pitching a tone higher.
Billy laughs, shaking his head, patting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m messing with you, dude. I know why you did it, she told me.”
Steve gets quiet, looking at Billy, trying to figure out if he is for real. “She did?”
“Yeah,” Billy answers, smiling thankfully. “She really misses playing, so I was really glad when she said you called her to be on your team.” He squeezes his shoulder, pats it, then the coach whistles, calling the students to the court.
You, still with your heart pounding a little, let your bottle with Eddie and jog to the court and land beside Billy, hugging him quickly from his waist.
“Hey, Harrignon,” smiling at Steve.
“Hey, Mayfield. Happy you joined us!” He smiles a little shyly, his ears a little red still.
You chuckle, blushing a little, “Yeah, the captain called me up.”
His smile widened a little, noticing how your eyes were sparkling again, just like in Biology class.
The coach passes the two captains’ armbands, one to Steve and the other to Billy. They walk beside each side of the coach, putting the captain’s armbands around their biceps.
You never had the opportunity before, but now notice Steve’s biceps. Anyways, you shake your head, getting it into place. Coach Mr. Malone authorizes the boys to pick up their team.
“Who are you choosing first, Harrin-?” without even letting Mr. Malone finish first, Steve calls out.
“Mayfield.”
You freeze for a second, looking up at Steve, crossing your eyes with his, and when you are about to smile at him, you hear some gasping and giggling behind you. Your face goes cold, you clench your fists, and you walk towards Steve.
He notices the change in your mood. Intrigued, he looks at the guys behind you and sees some of them giggling and glancing at you. You get on his side when he speaks back at them.
“If I hear any giggle or laugh before, during, or after the game,” he locks his eyes at those boys, firmness and anger in his eyes, his voice steady. “I’ll make sure one will not play at any match for the school, and I’ll make one's life a living hell in PE,” he says to the rest of the guys, scanning their faces. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, captain,” they all say in a weak and afraid unison.
“Good,” he nods, crossing his arms around his chest, puffing it out, turning his head to look down at you. His face softens, he winks at you, smiles softly, mouthing words to you. “I got you”, then looking ahead again, Billy, and then Steve again, calling out other people to be on their team.
You feel something funny on your stomach; you smile to yourself throughout the callout, glancing at Steve from time to time, your eyes crossing sometimes, making you blush a little every time.
You glance once at Eddie, who is smiling mischievously at you, making your eyes roll. Your smile widens, looking down at your feet, bouncing back and forth, heat getting all over your face, biting inside of your cheek, trying to hide your smile.
With both teams chosen, Steve’s team wears a vest. You are putting yours on when Billy approaches you, ruffling your hair.
“Hey, sis! Welcome back to the game,” winking at you, then leaning closer, whispering. “You have a good captain, you know?” glancing to Steve warming up just a little afar, turning back to you. “He respects you. You are in good hands, kid.” Billy grabs your head, kissing your temple, and jogging to his own teammates.
You smile luminously because of all this. You head closer to Steve, sensing someone approaching, and when he sees that it’s you, his face lights up.
“Thanks for earlier,” you smile shyly.
He dismisses it, smiling softly, his lips parted, about to say something, until Mr. Malone calls the teams to the court to begin the game, Steve and Billy at the center, both ready, waiting for the whistle.
Steve looks at you, not so far from him, for one last time, smirking and winking at you, looking up at the ball then.
You feel her stomach twisting, and then Mr. Malone whistles.
Billy and Steve jump, reaching for the ball, with Steve touching it first and throwing it in your direction.
Like muscle memory, you grab the ball and dribble towards the basket, Steve guarding a guy who's close to you, giving you space to do your game. A guy from the team is free across the court, so you throw the ball to him.
You advance through the court, getting to the shooting guard, outside of the three-point arc. As always, no one is paying attention to you, and since you are around 1.65m (5’5”), you can’t guard someone properly since they are all way taller than you, so you sharpen your attention, searching for something you can get yourself into.
Other guys might not be paying attention to you, but Steve is.
He has the ball and sees you at the shooting guard spot, unguarded and free to shoot at the basket.
You notice Steve’s intentions, pinning your feet on the floor, steadying yourself.
He launched the ball to you.
You catch it, looking at the basket, and with all your strength, you bend over to get more power, jumping and shooting with all your strength.
The gym goes quiet as the ball hits the backboard, then the hoop, spinning for a while.
And then going into the basket. 3 points. The first points of the game.
You hear someone screaming at the bleachers. You turn to see who it is, and when your eyes land on Eddie, celebrating as if it were the final, decisive point of the game, you are lifted off the floor, arms wrapped just above your knees, as someone screams with pure excitement and pride.
You need to put a hand on the person’s shoulder to get some balance. When you look down, Steve has his face brushing the fabric covering your stomach, looking up at you, shouting excitedly and smiling wider than you've ever seen before, cheering you as the game depended on it, his eyes full of pride and joy. His hair was already messy and covered in sweat, just like yours, probably.
His eyes are sparkling. Just like yours. Both with the widest smiles on your faces.
Mr. Malone calls your attention to the fact that the game is still going.
Steve puts you down, your eyes not breaking contact, both panting and smiling widely.
“C’mon, Harrington! Be a fucking captain and beat my ass!” Teases Billy, smirking and shouting at him from across the other side of the court.
Steve turns to look at Billy, rolling his eyes at him, sprinting toward him, but not without looking at you one last time, his wide smile still on his lips.
Billy winks at you, wiggling his eyebrows. You roll your eyes as well, sprinting right behind Steve.
Well, apparently, the game must go on.
And the game goes on.
Most of the boys don’t play along with you, and when Steve sees someone choosing not to pass to you, he gives them a bawl-out. The corner of your mouth curves up every time he does that.
By the beginning of the third quarter, the rest of the team cooperates with you, passing balls and guarding the other players, so you can dribble more freely. They even start high-fiving you every time you score or assist someone, smiling at you in a friendly, warm way.
Billy shouts to his team, dope slapping their head every time they are too much, not playing fairly with you.
When those interventions happen, Billy and Steve always find each other to fist-bump, like they are a team, playing together. In this case, they are a team, doing all they can so that you can feel good playing again, respecting you and your limitations.
You notice it every time, and the corner of your mouth lifts every time.
At the last seconds of the game, Steve is behind you, both at the key, almost under the basket. He nods at his teammate with the ball in hand across the court at the attack. Steve bends over to warn you, whispering to your ear.
“Think fast, Mayfield.”
Without time for a proper reaction, he grabs your hips, lifting you from the floor at the same time the teammate launches the ball towards you.
You grab it instinctively, your heart pounding hard on your chest, getting closer and closer to the basket.
“Oh fuck!” you exclaim, your eyes wide, in pure shock.
And without even realizing, you are dunking.
You release the ball.
The buzzer rings.
Your hands are tightly gripping the hoop.
You hear Steve cheering, and your teammates as well.
You won.
You look down at Steve right beneath you, smiling widely and shouting in excitement. Your teammates are gathering beneath you along Steve, like they are going to grab you. You look down a little insecure, then turn back to Steve, who is calling you down, his eyes reassuring you.
You nod, release your hands, fall into your teammates' arms, being lifted up and down while they cheer for the victory. Shouting your name over and over.
“Mayfield! Mayfield! Mayfield!”
You crackle each time they throw you up in the air, getting scared as well. Steve looks at you, so happy for you, seeing you smiling that widely.
He sees the scene all in slow motion, his smile brightly on his face, feeling something strange in his gut. Your laugh is probably becoming one of his favorite sounds.
They do this for a whole minute, until they put you down, pat your shoulder, smile, and be friendly to you. Billy runs at you, crashing you into his arms, spinning you.
“I’m so fucking proud of you!” he cheers up between laughers, taking some from you as well. He puts you down, ruffling your hair. “I’m heading to the locker room, okay? I’m stinking as hell”.
Billy sprints toward the locker room, and you are still laughing. You turn to walk to the bleachers to grab your stuff, only to find Steve a few steps behind you.
He is smiling proudly at you, panting still, his lips apart from the effort, his face red as well. His stomach is still doing that funny stuff again.
You smile back at him, thankful. “Thank you for calling me up.”
Steve just looks at you for a while, your short hair a sweaty mess, your clothes soaked as well, your fast breathing, panting from the game and adrenaline. Your freckles are enhanced because of the blush on your cheeks.
“It was a pleasure to have you as my teammate,” and then he calls you by your first name.
Your eyes widen slightly at hearing your name leave his lips. He has sparkles in his eyes again.
“It was a pleasure to have you as my captain, Steve.”
His eyes widen slightly at hearing his name leave your lips. You have sparkles in your eyes again.
Note: Hey! Okay, Steve is a real man, a gentleman. And Billy? Such a sweet brother, and it reminds me of the song 'Back on You' by Djo. I played basketball for my school in high school, so writing this was really sweet.
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Summary: It's Biology class, and unlike the previous ones, this will be in pairs. Coincidentally, Steve is in your class. So what are the odds of you two being paired up, huh?
Word count: 1.2k
Note: Hey! It was unconscious, maybe, but this interaction happening in a Bio class reminded me a lot of Twilight, but without the disgust in Steve's face because the reader was on her period, though.
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Wednesday, November 21st, 1984
Biology is not that hard, but it is not a piece of cake either. You are taking notes as the teacher explains the day's schoolwork.
“In pairs, you will do a food web with the living beings placed on page 78 of your books. Do it in the white paper I’ll give to you after you get to your respective pairs. This has to be delivered by the end of the class today.”
“We can choose our pairs, Mrs Hercules?” a guy behind you asks.
“No, Pete. I’ll pick them.”
The students all groan in frustration in unison, and the teacher seems unbothered by the fuss, running through the pairs' names.
“Mellisa and Richard… Drace and Joseph… Monica and Rose… Steve and…” and then she says your name.
Mrs Hercules continues naming them, but you freeze for a second before grabbing your stuff and putting it in your bag. “Of course it would be Steve Harrington,” you murmur, mocking his name.
“So mature of you, Mayfield,” followed by a humorless chuckle.
You shut your eyes, whispering to yourself. “Shit”. You open your eyes, spinning on your chair, turning to face him.
You look up at Steve, annoyance on your face. “Are you waiting for permission to sit down, or are you already old enough to make your own decisions?” you ask, wrinkling your nose in mockery.
“For fuck sake,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes, sighing, and passing behind your chair, letting his weight fall at the chair beside yours.
The teacher places a white sheet of paper over your desk. You grab it, putting both your names down while Steve opens his Biology book.
He glances at your letter, leaning closer to get a better view, chuckling, teasing you, “Jesus, Mayfield, you write in cursive? I can't understand anything you are writing.” he laughs, shaking his head.
You roll your eyes, don’t look up at him, finish writing your name down, and write his next. “I journal, that's why.”
Steve widened his eyes firstly because you didn't talk back to him, and also because of this new information. “Oh! Huh, didn't know you journal.”
“You don't know a lot about me.” You straighten up your posture, both names written down now, leaning toward the book open in front of him.
Steve freezes from the proximity, your shoulder almost brushing his arm. His heart is pounding under his chest. The last time you were this close was when you threatened him during PE class almost a month ago, but now you are not threatening him; what makes this feeling… something else?
“I can draw the living beings while you dictate to me, and I will connect them after,” you pull back, leaning at your chair again, turning to look at him. “That’s okay for you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he swallows hard, shaking his head. “I, huh, dictate for you.”
You nod, and Steve starts with the golden eagle. You stay like this for a couple of minutes, and he watches you drawing. You peek at his book from time to time, pulling it closer after a while to get a better view of the pictures.
“So, huh,” Steve clears his throat, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You journal, draw,” points vaguely at the paper in front of you, “photograph, play guitar, dance, speak French… There is something you don’t know how to do?” he is sincerely curious.
You chuckle, looking at him, confusion on your face. “How do you know I do all these other things? I never told you any of this.”
He shrugs, bending over the desk, resting an elbow on it, placing his hand on his cheek, looking directly at you. “I just pay attention, I guess.”
Your stomach flips. You freeze for a couple of seconds, locking your eyes on him, heat spreading from your neck to your cheeks. You shake your head, focusing on your paper, continuing to draw a firefly.
Steve watches you while your cheeks turn red, his stomach doing something fun at the sight.
However, he doesn't shove it down this time.
He continues to look at you as you get back on track, dictating the names of animals or plants here and there.
Steve watches you, noticing how you bite your inner cheek while concentrating, how you check his textbook over and over to draw the firefly, erasing what you don’t seem to like. And all of a sudden, Steve hears Eddie’s words playing back in his head.
“She is gorgeous, intelligent, and interesting as hell.”
Steve couldn't agree more. Even when you are being a pain in the ass, you are all of this.
“You didn't answer me”. He states that after a while.
“Huh?” you mumble, drawing something resembling grass.
“There is something you don’t know how to do?”
You shrug. “I do a lot of different stuff, but it doesn’t mean I’m good at them… I just enjoy doing it, even mediocrely.”
Steve nods, impressed. “Fair enough”. He tells you to draw some fungi. “And sports? Do you like to play some? You always seem so entertained when we are in PE.”
You look at him, surprised. God, he really pays this much attention? You turn your attention back to the food web, shoving down that feeling that appeared again inside of you.
“I like to play basketball and soccer.” You do that face again, staying silent for a while, concentrating. “But boys usually never pass the ball to me, and when I try to steal it, they do a whole exhibitionism show, dribbling around me.”
You shrug, but Steve notices your irritation, your nostrils widening, your forehead furrowing. “So I stopped playing. I just play with Billy sometimes, but it's not as fun as with a whole team and all”.
“Next week, play on my team in PE. As captain, I can guarantee no one will mess up with you. And I pass the ball for you as well, of course.”
You turn your head to him, suspiciously looking at him. “Are you serious, Harrington?”
“I’m dead serious.”
“Because I swear to god, if you’re mocker-.”
“I’m serious, Mayfield,” he states firmly, looking deeply into your eyes, straightening up to make his point. “Play with me on PE next week.”
You straighten up as well, in shock from the invitation, but more even surprised with him apparently wanting you to play with him, on his team.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll, huh, play with you on Tuesday,” you blush a little, looking at him, shy all of a sudden, picking the skin around your finger, swallowing hard.
Steve glances down at your fingers quickly, noticing your nervous habit. Then he looks back at you, smiling, his stomach flipping inside him again. “Deal then, teammate”.
You laugh weakly. “Deal, teammate”.
You look at each other for a while. You look at the moles he has on his face. He looks at the freckles on your face around your nose and under your eyes.
You notice his eyes are hazel, but they seem to have some sparkle at the moment.
And he notices your eyes are dark brown, but they seem to sparkle at the moment.
Mrs Hercules walks around the class, stops at your desk to look at your food web, clears her throat to call for your attention, startling you. You shake your head to refocus, look away from Steve, turn in your chair, and explain what you are doing to the teacher.
Steve just looks at you, still unable to look away, trying his best to calm his heart down, with your sparkly dark brown eyes carved on his memory, and a crooked smile on his face.
Note: Hey! See, Steve here? Oh my god, I myself had to stop writing to take some time out, he was THE man. It was really fun to write this chapter as well. Their little banter from last month's history, and the way they see each other differently, was something I really enjoyed writing, and I guess I did a good job here. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!
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Summary: Everything will change and will be different from now on, but this time for good.
Word count: 1.3k
Note: Hey! This is a day, in a whole, that is so meaningful to the story, where the relationships will start to change, and this will influence the course of the story. Hope you guys like it, I really enjoy writing it.
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The last bell of the day rings. You exit your class, heading to the parking lot, when you feel arms locking from both sides.
“Hey, Freckles!” exclaims Robin, her tone soft and dearing, “How are you today? We noticed you’re a little down…” she searches your eyes, emphatically.
“Yeah, we were worried about you. We saw how Billy is as well, so we wanted to see how you are,” Nancy explains softly, her eyes full of empathy, walking along with you.
You chuckle humorlessly, pressing your lips together, looking at your feet while walking, tensing your arms around Nancy’s and Robin’s unintentionally. “These past days since Wednesday were like hell.” You take a deep breath, looking up to compose yourself. “Neil got really mad because of Billy’s suspension.”
The silence falls among you three, no more words needed. You mentioned to the girls a couple of times before that he could be a complete piece of shit.
“Do you feel okay staying at your home? I can ask my mom to let you crash at mine for a couple of days.” Nancy grabs your hand and holds it tightly.
“Thanks, Nance, but there is no need. We haven’t known about him since Saturday. My mother said he left without anything and hasn't come back since.”
“He did this before?” asks Robin, worried, but also a little relieved that he is not around. You three exit the school and head to Billy’s car.
“No, that was the first time. His leaving and huh,” you swallow hard, “letting Billy like that.” You tell the girls that Eddie drove you to the hospital and stayed until 4 am.
“He was a lifesafer,” you murmur, your voice cracking a little. “Sorry,” you chuckle weakly. “This freaks me out every time I think about it.”
“No need to apologize, Freckles! Can’t imagine how scary that shit was! Good that bastard is not around! He is such a piece of shit!” Robin is jabbering, both her arms moving anxiously, her pitch a little higher. “Was talking to Dingus earlier, and we were shocked about how Billy’s face is looking! He was so worried! Wanted to talk to him and all! I recommended not to because all the weird tension they have and-” you widen your eyes to Robin, her sentence rewinding at the back of your head.
“He was so worried! Wanted to talk to him and all!”
Nancy cuts Robin off, clearing her throat and talking over her. “What we are trying to say to you is that we were worried about you and Billy. You can lean back on us wherever needed, okay?” She lets go of your arms and hugs you by your waist, resting her head over your shoulder.
You rest your head over Nancy’s, relaxing with the hug, feeling Robin leaning closer, pressing their bodies together by your sides.
You three don’t notice, but Steve is a couple of meters away from the school front door, leaning back against the wall, paying attention to what you are saying, while they are already getting to Billy’s Camaro.
Steve looks to his side and sees Billy exiting school, and before he can think properly, he pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer to get to Billy.
“Hey, Hargrove.”
Billy freezes for a second before turning his gaze to Steve, returning to walk. “Harrington,” he nods in a greeting, then looks ahead again.
“Do you, huh, need something?” Steve points to his own face, referring to Billy’s. His eyes furrowed in concern, imagining how much pain he must be in.
Billy turns to look at Steve again, chuckling humorlessly, shaking his head, and taking a few steps until getting to Steve. “Worried and curious, Harrington? I didn't know you cared,” he teases, lifting his head up a little.
Steve rolls his eyes back, sighing, rubbing a hand on his face. “Don’t be a dick, Hargrove,” looking back at him, crossing arms over his chest. “You just look like shit, I am sure I didn't leave you like that last week.”
Billy chuchkles again, bitterly, shaking his head, looking at his car, you leaning back at it, looking at him, with the girls on your side and Eddie on the other, holding you by your shoulder. His tension decreases a little, turning back to Steve again.
“You are indeed sure of it, you would never be able to let me like this,” he chuckles weakly.
Steve rolls his eyes again, but is also chuckling. “Maybe we can figure it out someday.”
“I really hope not,” Billy’s words coming out faster before his brain could process them. He shuts his eyes, shaking his head. He chuckles weakly, opening his eyes and looking at Steve again. “I chickened out really fast, huh?”
Steve chuckles, “Yeah, but I wouldn't want to be in a fight so soon either if I was beaten up just like you did.”
Billy clenches his jaw, his eyes getting dark from the memory, looking away, fisting his hands, and putting them in his front pocket.
“Sorry! Sorry, huh, this was mean. Didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.” Steve flustered, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed by his words.
Billy nods, acknowledging the apology, de-stressing a little.
“Is that okay if I ask you what happened?” Steve asks kindly, crossing his arms over his chest again, still blushing, concern in his voice.
“My father wasn't happy about my suspension.” Billy looks down at his feet, unable to look at Steve, a little embarrassed to confess this to King Steve. He shakes his head, trying to push this stupid royalty thing down.
“What an asshole!” Steve exclaims in a murmur, more to himself, looking away, pissed.
Billy chuckles humorlessly, still looking down. “Like father, like son”.
Steve quickly turns his head to Billy, who is still looking at his shoes, incomprehension growing into his chest at the comparison. “Bullshit”.
Billy looks up, unsure of what he heard. “You heard me, Hargrove. I bet if you were just like him, she won’t defend you like she always does.” Steve points his arm at you across the parking lot, making Billy follow his gaze.
Billy finds your confused gaze on them. He takes a deep breath, warm spreading over his chest, then turns back to Steve, who has his arms crossed over his chest again, posture straighter than before, like he is making a point, what he really is.
“Now what, Harrington?” Billy teases, smirking. “We hug each other and braid each other's hair?”
“For God's sake, Hargrove,” Steve rolls his eyes, half-sighing, half-chuckling, “You don’t know how to deal with someone saying something nice to you?”
Billy laughs, shaking his head, “Own, Steve Harrington is saying something nice about me? What an honor!” he teases, laughing louder, putting a hand over his chest.
Steve rolls his eyes, shaking his head, chuckling. “Goodbye, Hargrove, see you around,” turning his back to Billy, walking away, towards his car.
“Hey, Harrington?”
Steve turns his head back, seeing a more serious Billy Hargrove, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, a little nervous even.
“Thank you.”
Steve freezes for a second, then nods, saluting with two fingers a farewell, turning on his heels, and heading to his car.
He glances at Billy walking towards you, Eddie on your side, an arm over your shoulder, the girls on your other side, chatting about something.
You are looking at Steve; your expression is unclear. He salutes you with two fingers goodbye as well; you seem too shocked to salute back, your eyes wide from the sudden interaction. Steve turns his head ahead of him, twitching his mouth in a sidesmile, shaking his head afterward, shoving down the feeling in his gut.
Billy watches the exchange between you and Steve, unsure what to make of it. Eddie also watches Steve kinda smile until he shakes his head, like he's trying to get some thought out of his own head.
Eddie looks at Billy after, their eyes crossing, a playful smirk on Eddie’s lips, wiggling his eyebrows at Billy. He widens his eyes, a question in his eyes, and Eddie shrugs, smiling widely at the idea that is crossing his mind.
Note: Hey! Like I said at the end of the first chapter, the tensions are decreasing from now on. And this day ends up here.
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Summary: Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan see you and Billy after the suspension, and they get really shocked by how Billy is, even worried. Max is still shaken by what happened to Billy as well, so she finds some shoulders to rely on at the party when they show concern.
Word count: 2k
Note: Hey! The way the older teens and the kids will deal with what happened to Billy, and how they will treat Max and the reader, means a lot to me. I hope it will mean as much to you as well.
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During lunchtime, some things were different.
Steve and Robin are waiting in line to reach the buffet. His face still hurt from last Wednesday, the bruising now in shades of green and yellow, his cuts with scabs, healing well, apparently.
They are chatting about the last class they had together, she speaking with her hands and he nodding at her, paying attention, his hands tucked in his front pockets.
Then they hear a buzz behind them, turn their heads to see what is happening, and see him.
Billy enters the cafeteria, catching the attention of everyone around him, trying to ignore the stares, his head still up. He will not allow him to feel ashamed, ever.
Steve and Robin exchanged a look, shocked by the seriousness of his injuries, so different from the ones on Steve’s face. Robin whispers to him, “Weren’t both of you injured twins?”
“Exactly!” he glances at Billy again, really in shock by his wounds, turning back to Robin. “Something else must have happened since we were both suspended,” he thinks for a moment. “His sisters came to school the rest of the week?”
Robin nods, “Yep, came and left with Eddie.”
“They looked different in a way?”
“Not that I recall, Jonathan even said that they had a good time at their photography class on Thursday, and on Friday, we did some schoolwork together in French, and she was okay as well.”
It’s their turn to slide through the buffet. They grab their trays and lunch, then walk to their table. Steve lost in thought, trying to understand what must have happened. They sit, and Nancy and Jonathan are already there.
“Do you know what happened to Billy, Steve?
“No idea, Nance, I was discussing it with Robin seconds ago. Do you know if he had a car accident or something?”
“No, I saw his car at the parking lot when I arrived, it’s neat as always,” Jonathan answers, also intrigued.
Steve follows Billy with his eyes after he grabs his lunch, heading not to Tommy H. and Carol’s table, but to Hellfire’s. He stands beside Eddie, talking to him, both smiling, and then Billy sits beside you, Billy waving shyly to the rest of the guys at the table, eating quietly, you leaning towards him, chatting a little.
“He is sitting with Hellfire,” Steve announces, and all the others turn their heads to the table. “Wow, guys, very subtle of you, huh?” he reprehends. They all turn their heads back, a little blushed for the callout.
“This is really strange…”
“No shit, Buckley,” murmurs Steve, his eyes still fixed on the table, “should we talk to him?”
“Not WE, Dingus, I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to be around him,” she shrugs, “Nance and I can talk,” both referring to you or to Billy, but mostly you.
Steve chuckles, looking at his plate, nodding, “You’re right.” He looks up at Nancy, “Okay for you, Nance?”
She smiles, nodding, looking at the table. Her eyes soften. “Of course, she seems a little down as well; something must have happened.”
Steve then pays attention to you. Indeed, you are quieter, smaller, a little skittish, even, scanning the room as if you are looking for a threat. He can see you even sharpening your hearing, tilting your head over sounds around the cafeteria.
And then your eyes cross.
You are surprised to find Steve looking at you. She freezes for a moment, tensing her shoulders, alert and really aware of his movements and expressions, and straightens up.
Steve holds your gaze, but he notices how skittish you actually are, so he softens his gaze, tilting his head a little down, the corner of his mouth just a little twitched up, nodding slightly, greeting you.
You are caught off guard, your eyes widening in surprise, taking a couple of seconds to greet back. It would be missed if Steve blinked, but he didn’t.
You hold each other's gaze for a little longer, and when Billy looks at you, he follows your gaze, finding Steve looking at yoy.
Steve greets him the same way, showing that he is not a threat. Billy responds right away, then turns to you, leaning closer and saying something in your ear.
Steve couldn’t understand what was said, but he saw you rolling your eyes, blushing, and pushing Billy’s shoulder playfully, mouthing “shut up”, laughing along with Billy, shaking your head, looking at Steve again for one last time for a second longer until both you and Billy focused on your lunch.
“What was that, huh, Dingus?” Robin whispers to his ear, teasing, insightful, and smart as she can be.
“What was what, Buckley?” he answers, annoyed, taking a bite of his lunch.
“This thing between you and Freckles, you greet each other now? Didn’t know you were friends,” she teases, nudging him with her elbow.
“We are not, so shut up,” he rolls his eyes, sighing, taking another bite. She laughs, focusing on her lunch and talking nonsense with Jonathan.
Steve glances at you one last time. You are now resting your head on Billy’s shoulder, and you are laughing at some theatrical thing Eddie is doing.
And Steve feels that feeling again, something on his chest, but before getting too much into this, he shakes his head, shoving it down, paying his attention to Robin talking to Nancy about the date she had with some girl in the band on the weekend.
Max is at a table at the back of the cafeteria, Jane on her side, chatting about the English class and the test they had when all four boys arrive, sitting in front of the girls.
“Max, what happened to Billy's face? Seems like he was hit by a bus,” says Dustin, a little concern in his voice. “Steve is not that bad, and they had similar injuries last week.”
Max tenses, clenches her jaw, and plays with her food. El nudges her with her elbow, makes Max look at her, smiles weakly at Max, and exchanges a reassuring look. Max nods, turning to Dustin.
“He, huh- his father wasn't happy about his suspension.” She looks away, unable to look at Dustin or anyone, and her legs start to shake under the table.
“When was this, Mad Max?” Lucas asks, looking at her, his eyes soft, and frowns in worry.
She looks up at him through her lashes, then to her plate again. “Friday afternoon, after school.”
“Hold on, hold on,” Mike shouts, his hands extended in front of him, his eyes shutting, then opening widely at Max, bending over his plate, Max looking at him tensely. “That's why you didn't come to my sleepover on Saturday?”
Max nods. Jane, speaking for both of them, hugged her friend over her shoulders. “She had a sleepover at my house instead. Eddie brought her there.”
Max shrugs, looking back at her plate. “Yeah, my siblings had a sleepover at Eddie's, and he gave me a ride there to Jane's, I-” she swallows hard ”I didn't want to stay at home, they either.”
Eddie arrived at Hopper’s cabin around 6 pm. He and you knocked at his door with Max by your side, with a backpack hanging at one of Max’s shoulders.
Jane opened the door, her smile widening, pulling Max in for a hug. “Is Hopper home, Jane?” you smile softly, “I would like to talk to him to see if it's okay for Max to sleep here tonight, instead of at Mike’s.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” she answered, looking over Max's shoulder, pulling back from her and turning her head inside the house. “Hop! The Mayfields are here!”
After some time, he got to the door, opening it wider, leaning against the doorframe, cleaning his revolver.
“Hey, Max!” Ruffling Max’s hair, smiling tenderly at her. “Hey, kids, nice to see ya,” he says, smiling at you and Eddie, a little intrigued. “What's up? Is everything okay?”
“Hey, Hop! Huh, would it be okay if Max sleeps over here tonight? I know they have a sleepover at Mike’s, but she really wanted to stay just with El tonight, and Billy and I are going to Eddie's. We didn’t want to let her alone at home if she didn’t want to sleep at the Wheeler’s.”
Hopper looked confused. “Yeah, no problem, but alone? Your parents are out of town or something?”
You looked up at Eddie, nervous, picking at your skin around your finger. He grabbed both your hands with his, looking down at you, reassuring.
You nodded, turning back to Hopper. “Huh, something”
Hopper lifted his head, intrigued, and straightened up from the doorframe. “Go inside with Max, Jane, the sleepover is on,” he said calmly, his eyes locked on you and Eddie.
Max went back to you, hugging you tightly. You kissed the top of her head, then she hugged Eddie quickly, waved goodbye to the van parked a few meters away, and rushed inside the house with Jane.
Hopper followed the direction Max waved. “Is that your brother?” Hopper pointed with his chin to the person in the passenger seat.
You just nodded without looking back. Hopper passed through you both, heading to the van, and you followed.
Max and Jane spied through a window from the living room, pressing their ears against it, trying so hard to listen.
Hopper got to the passenger's open window, leaning against the door. “Jesus Christ, Billy,” he murmured while studying his bruised and wounded face, still really sore from the day before.
“What happened to you, kid?” There was concern in the chief's voice, confusion in his gaze and tone, and growing anger.
Billy looked over Hopper's shoulder at you and Eddie, both nodding at him, as if to say it's okay to tell the sheriff.
He nodded slightly, nervous, turning his gaze to Hopper again, and he told what happened. You moved closer to the passenger window, toward Billy, holding his hand over the open window to show him you supported him.
“I got suspended on Wednesday because of a fight I had with Harrington. I got home all fucked up and with a suspension. My father was pissed about it, saying I was embarrassing him again, that I would ruin his life here just like I did back in San Diego.”
He shook his head, looking ahead at the windshield, feeling your hand on his, taking a deep breath, and turning to look at Hopper again.
“He didn't do anything to me because the girls were home… But since I wasn't going to school, I spent my day around town, and I got home before the end of his shift, but it seems like he got out earlier yesterday…”
Hopper listened quietly, nodding and paying him all attention, the frown on his forehead getting deeper and his gaze angrier.
Billy interrupted his speech numerous times, with tears in his eyes, his breath shaken, being comforted by you, and by the second time it happened, by Eddie as well, who had his hand over Billy's shoulder, squeezing it from time to time, showing that he was not alone.
When Billy finished his story, Hopper looked deep into his eyes, grabbing the other shoulder of him. “Everything will be okay, kid. I promise you. I mean it.”
Billy nodded, gratefulness in his eyes, but a little ashamed as well. No adult talked like that to him, ever. Maybe his mother once, but never a man. Hopper squeezes his shoulder, heading to his cabin.
“Go have fun, you three, you deserve it,” he shouted over his shoulder, waving goodbye to them. Jane and Max sprinted to Jane's room, shutting the door behind them, trying to pretend they were there all the time.
“Wow, this is messed up.” Mike twists his mouth, looking upset about all this. “I'm sorry about Billy, Max.”
Max shakes her head, getting her back into the present, looking up at him, nodding erratically, then back to her food again. “Thanks, Michael,” Max murmurs, playing with her food, Jane with her head on her friend's shoulder.
“We missed you both there… It's not the same without you,” Will affirms, his voice low, looking at both of the girls, and the others nod along excitedly. Jane giggles, and Max chuckles weakly.
“Thanks, guys. You're not such losers all the time, after all.” The boys groan and roll their eyes, but with no banter, and just after that, they laugh, eat their lunch, and chat about D&D, Star Wars, Ghostbusters, and so much more.
Note: Hey! Writing about the characters' interactions and their behavior in response to what happened healed something in me. Hopper, caring about the injuries and what happened with the family, was really worried, and it was so sweet of him to do so.
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Summary: After the suspension, Billy returns to school, but he seems… different, at least.
Word count: 1.8k
Note: Hey! This day, divided into 3 chapters, was the hardest to write, not because of its complexity but because of its emotional weight. I hope you enjoy it.
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Monday, November 12th, 1984
Billy’s Camaro arrives for the first time since last Wednesday at the parking lot of Hawkins High, after his suspension.
You and your siblings exit the car, you three silent, Billy in the middle, with you and Max walking on either side of him, shielding him as you walk slowly together towards the school front door, chins lifted a little.
Everyone present on your way stares at him while you pass, whispering and gasping. The reason? Billy’s face is all covered in bruises and stitches.
A black eye, a broken nose, a stitch on his eyebrow, one on his forehead, another on his chin, and another one on his cheekbone, and a cut lip as well. Not the kind of injuries the students saw on his face during his encounter with Steve last week.
“Do you want us to walk you to your class?” you ask, your voice low, slowly and softly, grabbing his hand and leaning closer to him.
“No need, but thank you.” he looks down at you, gratefulness in his eyes, pulling Max to kiss her at the top of her head, her hugging him by his waist, making him shut his eyes, wincing through his teeth, and freezing in place.
“Oh god, sorry, Billy!” Max pulls her arm away, worry in her voice, looking at him with guilt and concern.
“That’s okay, kiddo,” he smiles weakly, breathing painfully, trying to reassure and calm her down. “My ribs are better than they were on Saturday, at least; maybe until the end of the week, I’ll be able to have a hug from you again, huh?” he chuckles weakly, passing his arms over her shoulders, rubbing her head.
Max looks up at him, chuckling, humorless, sad, and weakly, “I really hope so.” She leans into his touch.
He kisses her head again. “Love you, kiddo. Go find your friends now. I’ll be okay,” he winks at her, reassuringly.
She nods, a little reluctant still. “Love you too, Billy,” she smiles tenderly at him, releasing herself from his arms, hugging you from the waist, receiving a kiss from you as well, and then heads to her locker and her friends on the other side of the school.
Both you and Billy watch Max walk away as Eddie approaches you from the school's front door.
“Hey, guys, it’s really nice to see you two here again.” he passes an arm over your shoulder, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your shoulder, then turning his attention to Billy, looking at him.
“How are you feeling, man?” he says seriously, concern in his eyes, feeling you getting tense, dropping his arm to your waist, pulling you closer to him, himself with a lump in his throat.
Billy nods, smiling weakly, and looks at Eddie, with an ache in his chest. “Yeah, yeah. I look like hell, like you can see,” he chuckles weakly, humorless.
“I have some broken ribs as well, and the bruises on my chest and stomach too,” he takes a deep breath, seeing the empathy on Eddie’s features, his own features softening a little. “I’m on meds since then, and my pain is decreasing slowly, but she helped me a lot.” He smiles at you with so much gratitude, and you smile back at him tenderly.
Billy turns his attention back to Eddie, grateful as well. “Thanks, man, by the way. For taking me to the hospital that day, and for staying with the girls until I was discharged that late. And for letting her and me,” pointing to you, “to crash at your place on Saturday, it meant a lot for both of us, really.”
Eddie dismissed it, smiling dearingly at Billy. “No need to thank me. I’m glad we were there soon enough, and I would have stayed with you at that hospital for as long as needed.”
He extends his arms to Billy’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, holding there for a second longer, “and about having you at my trailer, it has been years since the last time I had a sleepover,” Eddie winks to Billy, making him blush a little and roll his eyes, twitching the corner of his lips, but you don't seem to notice, “so it was a pleasure,” he looks deeply into Billy’s eyes, smiling kindly now, “for real.”
“Thanks, man,” he nods, smiling gratefully, his eyes watering, looking away, hands on his hips, sniffling, rubbing his nose, the silence settling around you for a while.
“I’m heading to Mr. Higgins office, okay, sweetheart?” Billy says after a while, stepping forwards and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I need to sign some paperwork shit about my suspension”.
“Okay, bro,” you grab his hand, squeezing it. “You know where my classes are today. Reach me if you need anything, okay?”
He nods, seeing the love in your eyes, his chest warm from all the devotion he receives from you since your parents got together. He is so fucking lucky to have you, and he tries his best every single day to give you all this love back.
“I know,” he squeezes your hands back, smiling tenderly at you, then turning to Eddie. “See you around, Munson,” smiling at him, patting his back, his hand staying there a second longer, then turning and heading to the principal’s office.
Billy is still confident, walking across the hallway with heads turning to him, his posture straightened, but he is different now. Not embarrassed, not ashamed, not shy, but more… quiet, maybe?
Eddie looks at Billy, watching him walk away. He starts to walk you towards your first class, still holding you by the waist, while leaning close to whisper in your ear.
“What happened to that son of a bitch?”
You tense just to think about him, burying your face on Eddie's chest, both arms around his waist now, whispering back, slowing your pace. “I don’t know. When we came back from your home yesterday, he was not there. My mom doesn’t know either.” Eddie rubs your waist, holding you tight, looking down at you. “Hope he died,” you declare.
Your heart is racing, anger growing inside of you. “He never beat him up this bad; he was almost unconscious, Eddie!” Your voice was wrecked by tears, whipping them away before they could even fall. “I promised Billy I would never leave him alone with that son of a bitch again, and then-” you can't finish the sentence, sobbing uncontrollably on Eddie's arm.
Eddie pulls you away from the hallway, into the first empty room he could find, the Chess Club room; he closes the door behind you and walks inside, pulling you to a proper hug, one hand on the back of your head and another around your waist, holding you tightly.
“It wasn't your fault, milady, never!” pressing a kiss at the top of her head, “He was supposed to be at work, not home.” He grabs your face with both hands, making you look up at him, his eyes tender but reassuring as well.
“If you hadn't hit that bastard with that pan, if you hadn't thought fast and run toward him, Billy would probably not be here today,” he wipes the watery path at your cheek with both his thumbs. “You saved him because you were thinking fast, milady. You saved his life”.
You look into Eddie's eyes, and how sure he seems about his statement, even with his eyes a little glassy, you notice. It's still hard to see things that way, but Eddie made it seem possible, at least. His words and Max's playing at the back of your head, in a low volume for now.
You release yourself from the hands on your face, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, crying on Eddie's chest, from fear, but also relief that your brother is alive.
Billy was almost unconscious when you and Max got home from school on Friday, lying on the kitchen floor, Neil standing over him, kicking his unmoving body. You just ran toward them, grabbing the first thing on your way, a pan, and hitting Neil in his head, making him fall dizzy on the floor, cursing some shit you couldn’t comprehend from the adrenaline and fear buzzing in your ears.
Eddie suddenly ran past you, knelt on the floor beside Billy, lifted him in his arms, and took him to his van, you just a step behind them. Max was already there, and the door slid open.
Eddie laid Billy on the back of the van, and you got up at the same time, Billy’s head resting on your lap, tears in both of your and Max’s eyes, you saying to Billy to stay awake, you holding Max's hand tightly.
“I’m sorry, Billy, I’m so sorry,” you said between sobs, “I should be there. Promised to never leave you alone again.” Max held you by your waist, resting her head on your shoulder, her body tense but also heavy, fear and sadness mixed, tears falling from her eyes.
“Don't say that,” she said your name, between sobs quietly as well, rubbing your waist. "He wasn't supposed to be at home yet.” She looked up at you. “It's not our fault.” You pressed your temple to Max's forehead, squeezing her hand, trying to comfort her and anchor yourself, looking down at Billy, making sure he stayed awake until you got to the hospital.
Eddie got into the van and drove faster than he ever drove his entire life, glancing at you three in his rearview mirror from time to time, rushing to the closest hospital, his heart hurting not just from the blasphemous words leaving your lips, but also from fear and desperation as well. The only thing that calmed him down at least a inch was Max's words towards you.
“I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there either,” you murmur between sobs, holding Eddie closer.
“Gladly we were both there, milady,” he rubs your back, trying to calm you down, kissing the top of your head, his voice a little choked.
You slowly start to calm down after a while, wiping the tears away, pulling back just to look at his eyes. “Sorry for your shirt”.
Eddie looks down at it, seeing the stain from your tears, then up at you again. “This means I was there for you. I prefer numerous stained shirts from your tears than not being there to hold you when you needed”. He affirms softly, kissing your forehead.
She chuckles weakly, wiping the last tears away. “How did I get the best friend I could ever get?”
“Just for being you, milady,” he cups your face, smiling tenderly, kissing your forehead again. “Now let’s go to class before we get there late”.
You nod, your chest warm, feeling cared for and really loved by someone outside her family. Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you out of the Chess Club room, passing an arm over your shoulder, and walking you to your class, your eyes and nose red and sore from crying.
Note: Hey! My heart broke when I wrote it, and my chest felt tight for a while. The way Neil was always so abusive towards Billy always pissed me off and made me so miserable. Unfortunately, Billy is canonically a racist, so the scenes in the show had their impact, but not as much when he is not portrayed as one. Personally, it's worse because then he is just a child coming from abandonment and abuse in those stories.
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Summary: Hopper, as the father, talks through the fight Steve had with him, a man-to-man talk. Steve, as the older brother, interacts with his little sister. Jane, as the younger sister, receives the family love she has always deserved. "Steve is still red, but his heart is slowing down; Jane is still smiling widely at herself; and Hopper is looking at them, his chest warm and overflowing with this beautiful feeling: love."
Word count: 2.8k
Note: Hey! I loved writing about Steve, Hopper, and Jane; it fulfilled parts of my heart that the series never could: Hopper being a father figure to Steve, Jane as his sister, Jane having a family, and Hopper having a boy.
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Without wanting to go home after his suspension, Steve waited until Jane's class was done at the parking lot. He has some schoolwork to do for next week, so he sits in his car, trying to get it done.
He glances at a movement at the lot across the school entrance and notices Billy heading to his car, probably waiting for his sisters as well.
After a couple of hours, Jane leaves the school behind, waving and shouting goodbye at Max, both heading in different directions.
Jane opens the passenger door and jumps into Steve's car. “Hey, Steve,” she looks at his face, worry in her eyes, “does it hurt a lot?”
Steve, already pulling over the car, turned his body to look at the back window to reverse. “Hey, El,” he concentrates for a while until hitting the road properly.
“Yeah, it hurts a lot, but Mrs. Portland said that if I put some ice on it, it will hurt less and reduce the soreness,” and he points with his chin to the coin holder, “and she gave me some painkillers too, she said it will help.”
“Hop will be furious when he sees your face.”
“It wasn't my fault!” he exclaims in a little panic, his eyes wide, his voice a pitch higher, his hands in the air, then holding the wheel again, shifting on his seat. “You were there! You saw it!”
“Yes, but Pops said he didn't want to see you in trouble again,” Jane says as empathetically as possible, an apologetic smile on her lips.
Steve groans in frustration, “Please be on my side for this, okay, El? Please! I'll give you my Eggos for a month!” He looks at her in despair, begging.
“You didn't have to offer me your Eggos, you know? I would be by your side either way,” she chuckles, “but I will take them anyway.”
Steve gaps in relief, bending his head back at the car seat, pulling her by her shoulder, kissing her head quickly, then turning his attention to the road again, “You're an angel, a lifesaver.” he points at her, smiling, “That dream you have? Must be pretend and all that shit, but you're indeed a fucking superhero to me.”
She giggles, looking through the window. Steve drives to Hopper's cabin, the rest of the drive in a comfortable silence.
After a while, they arrive at the cabin, Steve parking close to it, beside Hopper's trunk, both Steve and El jumping out of the car and heading to the house.
“Hey, Hops, we are home!” Steve announces, already taking his shoes off, and Jane is heading to her room.
“Took you so lon- what the hell is that?” Hopper exits his room and enters the living room, with confusion, concern, and a little anger on his face when he looks at Steve. He approaches the teenager in only three steps to get a better look at his wounds. “Sit down.”
“I'm fine! It was just-”
“It wasn't a suggestion,” Hopper answers firmly, making Steve sit at the first thing in his surroundings, a chair in the kitchen.
The chief holds the back of Steve's neck, tilting his head from time to time, inspecting his wounds. Jane leaves her room and finds both at the kitchen table. Steve is a little terrified, while Hopper is focused and concerned.
“Jane, what happened?” Hops' tone remains firm and demanding as he closely inspects Steve’s injuries.
“It was just a misunders-”
“I didn't ask you,” he cuts Steve, who is used to downplaying a serious situation. The teen groans in frustration, rolling his eyes, shifting in his seat.
Steve looks at El, beginning with his eyes for her help. “Do you remember Billy, Pops?” Jane asks.
The chief straightens up, done with checking Steve's wounds, releasing his grip from Steve's neck, and turning to look at Jane. “Yeah, the new kid from California, right?”
“Exactly. He teased Steve again, and when Steve teased back, Billy punched first, and all this” she points to his face “happened.”
Hopper turns to look at Steve, who is already predicting what is coming next. “What I said about being away from trouble, son?” His voice is firm, his eyebrows furrowed with anger and concern, as he looks down at Steve, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can't go physical every time someone says shit to you.”
“Billy was the one who starts these things every fucking time!” Steve exclaims, exasperated, in frustration, his arms extended in front of him, ”Jane can confirm that!” He points at her in frustration and exasperation, “He is always the one initiating whatever bullshit is that!”
“That's true, Hops,” confirms El, “Steve is always minding his own business, he just defends himself from Billy.”
“Oh, okay then.” Hopper nods sarcastically, just like his tone, pulling a chair to sit in front of Steve, bending a little to look at his eyes, intimidating a little, “So, how do you choose to defend yourself, kid, huh?”
Steve swallows hard, his voice in a lower volume, leaning back in the chair, as far away as he can get from Hopper. “I said that he didn't have the balls to send me to the infirmary.”
“Oh!” Hops leans back in the chair, chuckling sarcastically at Steve, “And do you think this would be you defending your honor, or degrading his?”
Steve freezes for a moment, locking his eyes on Hopper's eyes, his eyes widening a little from the realization. “Oh shit,” he murmurs.
“Oh yeah, son, ‘oh shit’” Hopper stays silent for a moment, letting Steve think about his actions. Then he puts an arm on his shoulder, looking gentler at him, bringing Steve's eyes back to him, finding regret in them.
“We need to think through the things we say, their effects, and the reasons we are saying them. When you called him a coward, you more offended Billy than defended yourself.”
Steve nods, looking away again. “I'm not saying he is right to beat you up.” Hopper searches for Steve's eyes again, getting his attention again, “But you have to watch your mouth sometimes, son.” He squeezes his shoulder, smiling as softly as Hopper can smile.
They stay silent for a while, Hopper turning his attention to Jane: “Go change, kid, it's Steve's turn to help me with dinner.”
She nods, heading to her room. Both men stand up, Steve receiving a caring pat on the shoulder from Hopper, and they go to the kitchen to start making dinner.
“And just for us to finish this conversation,” the chief looks again at Steve, while grabbing the ingredients from the fridge, “you're sleeping in here until Saturday morning, okay? I'm not leaving you all by yourself on that shit house of yours.”
“No, Pops! No need for that, thanks, but-”
“No buts. I already hate that you have to go to that empty house every day. You promised me to move in with Jane and me when you turn 18 until you get to college, so I won't push it anymore. But since you're suspended, you're staying here.”
“I didn't tell you I got suspended! How do you know that?” Steve is perplexed, looking up at the chief, in shock.
Hopper looks down at him, a little annoyed. “Really, son? You got into a real fight in school, and you thought it was a possibility that you wouldn't be suspended? I was your age once, you know?”
Steve nods, getting his point. “Fair enough,” he looks down while he is chopping vegetables, “and yeah, I'll crash here for those days, huh- just need to go home tonight to grab-"
“No need, I bought an extra toothbrush and some clothes for you that you might like. I will take you there tomorrow to grab the other stuff,” Hopper looks down at Steve, “deal?”
Steve blushes a little, getting a little shy at all the care Hopper is showing him now. He never gets used to it. It's still madness and unbelievable that Hops built an extra room for him at the cabin.
“Yeah, Hop, deal,” he smiles shyly, “thanks for it, Dad- Hopper! I said Hopper! Thanks, Hopper.” Steve turns red, focusing on the vegetables needing to be chopped.
The chief chuckles a little, embarrassed as well. It's the first time Steve calls him ‘dad’, a warm feeling in his chest spreading through his body. He passes an arm over Steve's shoulder, kissing the top of his head, “It's a pleasure, son.” Hopper let go of him, turning his attention back to the dinner, a loose smile on his lips.
“And oh, by the way, since you have free time tomorrow until Friday, you're going to work with me at the station. We have a lot of paperwork to do, and an extra pair of hands will be good use.”
“Oh, c'mon, Hops! Let me take some rest! I need it!”
Hopper laughs loudly, throwing his head back, exaggerating all his movements, “since you decided to have a big mouth and say bullshit about your classmate, plus got suspended by that, you will only be resting at the weekend, smartass. So now shut up and finish chopping these vegetables soon, we have work early in the morning tomorrow, and you need to rest properly, to work and to heal well.”
Steve groans in frustration, rolling his eyes back, but he bites his inner cheek to hide a smile. For the first time in years, if not ever, he has someone who really seems to act and wants to be his father. So, afraid of ruining the moment, the dinner preparation goes on silently, just a father and his son enjoying each other's company as they cook.
While the casserole is in the oven, Steve goes to take a shower, and Jane and Hopper stay in the living room watching a soap opera she likes.
It's still weird to sleep in a house where there are people beside him living in it, doing domestic stuff, and who are glad to have a family around.
He takes a quick warm shower, letting the water fall on his face, easing the soreness, shutting his eyes, and thinking about his encounter with you and Billy earlier.
He feels bad about all that happened. Since he became friends with Dustin last year, Steve has become a completely different person, so a flashback to his old persona tastes bitter in his mouth. He decides to talk to you two on Monday.
He finishes his shower in 10 minutes, putting on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that Hopper bought for him. The cotton from the fabric is soft and really warm, he smiles to himself, fortunate to have someone who cares for him. He exits the shower, letting his dirty clothes fall to the floor in his bedroom.
Steve heads to the kitchen to check the oven. The casserole is ready. He is putting the table down when Hopper and Jane enter the kitchen.
“Oh, Hop! Thanks for these clothes, they are really comfy.”
“Any time, kid.” Hopper smiles tenderly at him, ruffling his damp hair, then frowns, intrigued. “You put your dirty laundry in the basket, right?”
“No need, Hop, I'll wash them at hom-”
“This is your home. Let El finish putting the table and take your dirty clothes to the basket,” he states, not giving room to discussion, taking the casserole off the oven.
Jane shrugs at Steve, smiling softly at him, taking his place at the chore. He just nods, his cheeks a little pink, lifts the corner of his mouth, and heads to his room to grab his clothes, his hands tucked in his front pockets. “Thanks, Dad,” he murmurs, hoping that he is not crossing a line.
Hopper chuckles, getting a little emotional. “Of course, son,” he says as he watches Steve go inside his room, a grin spreading over the old man's face. “Like to have an older brother, Jane?”
She giggles gently at Hopper. “You and your adopted children,” she teases. He laughs out loud, shaking his head, putting the casserole down at the table. Steve comes back, sitting at the table with Jane on his side, and Hopper in front of them, serving both his children.
They eat in silence for a while, just the sound of the cutlery against the plates.
“Hey, huh, I'm planning to go to a diner with Nance, Jonathan, and Robin on Saturday night, is it okay if I go?”
“Sure, kid, and what about that new girl from your school”? Hopper says your name, “I thought she was your friend too,” Hopper asks, taking a bite of his dinner.
“She is everyone's friend but mine”, he groans.
“She is Billy's sister,” clarifies El.
Hopper widened his eyes, in understatement, “Reasonable why she is not your friend then,” he points his fork at Steve, chewing until he swallows his food, “but you seem to care that she is not your friend though.”
“I don't!” Steve declares, a pitch high. Jane puts a hand over her mouth, trying to hide her laugh. Hopper narrows his eyes at Steve, doubting him. “I don't!” He reaffirms, then, turning his frustrated gaze to Jane, “Why are you laughing?”
She shrugs, smirking, “because it's true, Dustin said once you were pacing around his room someday trying to understand why she didn't like you, because ‘you never did anything to her',” she does quotes with her hands, trying to imitate his voice “and you were all nerves and spiralling, and Dustin confronted you, saying that it is not all girls who swoon over you and-”
“Okay, okay! I got it!” He exclaims a little frustrated, sighing loudly, “for god's sake, Henderson and that big mouth of his,” he murmurs, passing his hand through his hair, eating his food angrily.
Just to tease, Hopper bends over the table, towards Jane, smirking, mischief in his eyes. “Is this girl pretty, Jane?”
Steve groans in frustration, rolling his eyes back, turning his full attention to his dish, his ears turning bright red, taking a big laugh from Hopper and El. “Yeah, she is. You have already seen her, Pops. She is Max's sister.”
“Oh yeah, yeah, that's true. But isn't she dating Munson?” He looks a little confused, accusatory even, turning to Steve, “Are you for real interested in a committed girl, son?”
Steve's eyes widen in desperation and in disbelief, frustrated also. “No, no, Hop! They are just friends, she and Eddie, like Steve and Robin,” Jane clarifies, chuckling a little at Steve's desperation, making the chief nod in acknowledgment and understanding.
“Robin is gay, right? I didn't know Eddie was, too.”
Jane and Steve exchange a look, laughing out loud. “I think he is more likely to be pansexual,” he affirms, taking a bite of his food, happy that he is not the subject of the conversation anymore.
“What the hell is a pansexual?” Hopper makes a confused face, making both kids laugh again.
“It's someone who is attracted to people regardless of their gender, basically," Steve clarifies, receiving a slow nod from Hop in return, trying to understand this new info.
“Like you?”
“No, I'm bisexual, but a little similar, in a way?”
Hopper nods again, trying to understand it as clearly as he can. It's possible to hear the gear running at his head.
“Okay, so he could date that girl, right?”
“Yeah, but they are not dating,” Jane states, Hopper nodding in return.
He turns his attention to Steve again, pointing a fork towards him again, chewing and then swallowing his food, with a question on his face, “Was Eddie the guy you had a crush on the first year of high school, right?”
Steve turns red, eyes and nostrils widening, choking on his own food. “Oh my god, you had a crush on Eddie?” Jane exclaims, excited, grinning widely.
“Can we not, please?” He looks at his plate, trying to act as calm as possible. “It was years ago, and I'm totally over him, so please-” he turns to El “please don't tell this to anyone and don’t bring it back either, please.”
Jane's smiles are softer just a little at him. “I'm not telling anyone, don't worry about it,” she extends her pinkie to him. He looks at it suspiciously, then links his pinkie to hers, making a promise.
“Oh! Mike is planning a sleepover with the party on Saturday night as well. Can I go?” Jane turns her attention to Hopper, with expectation in her eyes.
The chief chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I can drive you there, no problem,” she jumps in her chair, excited for the upcoming sleepover, smiling at her plate, and taking a bite.
Steve is still red, but his heart is slowing down; Jane is still smiling widely at herself; and Hopper is looking at them, his chest warm and overflowing with this beautiful feeling: love.
Note: Hey! Hopper calling Steve 'son' makes me so happy! Hope you all felt the same warmth in the chest as I did. And he is advising Steve? Building a room for him to sleep there? STEVE CALLING HIM DAD? I CAN'T, I'M GETTING EMOTIONAL JUST BY REMEMBERING IT.
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Summary: Billy and Steve have a confrontation at lunchtime; things get heated, and some things will change afterward.
Word count: 2k
Note: Hey! This day and the next are very important. I wrote them with my heart in pain, and rereading them to correct errors is always a punch in my stomach. This day has two chapters.
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Wednesday, November 7th, 1984
You are seated at the Hellfire table in the cafeteria beside Eddie. Everyone is chatting about the ending of the current D&D campaign, so you are looking around the room since you are not in this one.
You spot Robin and Nancy seated at a table across the cafeteria, excitedly chatting. Jonathan arrives with his tray just a minute later, sitting beside his girlfriend. Steve is not there yet, so you scan the room and find him at the trayline.
There are four girls around him, flirting, all smiles, giggling, and eye-lashing at him, and Steve couldn't be less interested than he is. He just nods politely, lips pressed together, smiling forcedly from time to time.
You didn’t know him as his past self, so you only know about his ladies' man thing from gossip around school and Hawkins. Like Eddie said when you first met, he doesn’t act like that anymore; it actually seems he doesn't even like all the attention anymore. You wonder what has happened to the change that was supposed to occur.
You stare at this whole scene while he waits to get to the buffet, still being the focus of those girls, until you see Billy heading towards Steve. You shift on your seat, alert. Eddie notices you getting tense, looking at you, then following your gaze, but says nothing, just pays attention and stays close.
“Hey, dude, would you mind sharing some of these beauties with me, huh?” Billy looks the girls up and down, his eyes full of mischief, leaning over to them. Steve rolls his eyes, sighing in annoyance, growing tired of the whole situation.
The girls wrinkle their noses, roll their eyes, and sigh as well, grab a tray, and slide it through the buffet, letting both boys behind.
Billy feels the rejection in his chest as the girls go far from them, but hides it, chuckling sarcastically, shaking his head, looking at Steve now, his chin lifted a little, taking a step closer to Steve, his voice low. “You think you're so fucking special, right, Harrington?”
Steve puts his hand on Billy’s chest, pushing him slightly away, his tone as low as the other's, calm, yet inpatient, their eyes locked. “I don’t think I’m anything, Hargrove, so get the fuck out”.
Billy snaps Steve’s hand from his chest eagerly, his nostrils widening, just like his eyes, pointing a finger at his face. “Don’t you dare to touch me again, Harrington, or I’ll send you to the fucking infirmary.”
Steve chuckles sarcastically, “You don’t have the balls, you’re too cowardly for this”.
There is no response back, just Billy punching Steve on his left cheekbone, making all the cafeteria gasp. Steve loses his balance from the surprise and the punch, his cheek is cut and bleeding, and he reacts, launching a punch at Billy’s left, matching their initial injuries.
People start to gather around them, and Eddie, with you following him behind, sprints from your table toward the fight, pushing the people away from your path.
When you get to the center of it, both guys have cuts on their faces, cheeks, eyebrows, and bloody noses as well. Eddie grabs Billy from the back of his vest, pulling him away, and at the same time, Jonathan appears, grabbing Steve and pulling him away from Billy.
“Guess who is not a coward now, huh, Harrington!” Billy shouts at Steve, laughing hysterically, his teeth red from the blood, spitting blood at the floor.
“You’re a piece of shit, Hargrove! That’s who you are!” he shouts back, fighting in Jonathan’s arms, trying to get free of them, pointing a finger at Billy, his voice just a little calmer after, but harsher and rougher than before. “You’re a shithead who intimidates people to feel good about yourself, because you are just a pathetic little shit”.
Steve stays quiet for a couple of seconds, Jonathan releasing him from his grip, in shock by the words that left his mouth.
“I pity you, Hargrove,” his voice full of bitterness, low, also spitting blood at the floor, locking his eyes on Billy during all his speech.
Everyone at the cafeteria stays silent for a while. Billy widens his eyes, stunned by his words, panting at Eddie’s arms, heat growing in his body.
“Go to hell, Harrington,” you respond in a cracked, low voice, your eyes wet, your face a mix of anger and sorrow, looking at Steve.
Steve's eyes turn to the source of the sound, angrier by the talk back, his mouth parted, ready to respond, but then his eyes land on you.
He freezes, looking at your watery eyes. Not just from anger, but also from pain. The words got trapped in his throat, regret growing inside his gut.
You don’t wait for an answer, pulling your brother and your best friend from the latter’s jacket, crossing the crowd, and heading out of the cafeteria.
Steve stays there for a couple of seconds, confused about what happened and what he is feeling, watching you disappear into the crowd, until the principal enters the cafeteria, points straight at him, and beckons him over with a finger. Steve turns to Jonathan, nodding thankfully, then heads towards Mr. Higgins and probably to his office.
You are seated at a bench beside the principal’s office door, waiting for Billy, who is already inside. You are leaning back against the wall, facing the ceiling, your leg bouncing nervously.
You hear steps coming from your left side; you already know who it might be. You tilt her head just slightly towards the sound, seeing Mr. Higgins and Steve a step behind him. And then looks away, bending over, your forearms on your bouncing, nervous legs.
“Wait outside, I’ll call you in a moment,” Mr. Higgins announces to Steve, extending his arm and pointing to the bench. He just nods, sitting at the opposite corner from where you are sitting, passing in front of you until getting to his spot. He sits down and leans back against the wall, looking in the opposite direction from you.
The adrenaline starts to fade after a while; consequently, the pain appears, sharp and spreading all over his face. Steve shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to decrease the pain; his head is aching, and the cuts are stinging.
“Do you have… some painkillers with you?” he winces through his teeth because of the pain to you.
“No”, you don’t even turn to look at him, answering too quickly to even think through his question. Your voice is cold.
He groans in frustration, taking another deep breath to not increase his pain. “Would you mind… grab me some… at the infirmary, please?” he pants slightly, his breath short, “guess Mr. Higgins… will not like me leaving,” he chuckles weakly.
“Yeah, I would mind.”
Steve turns slowly at you, his head pounding from each movement, too much in pain to sound or make any expression other than related to his pain.
“Why are you being a bitch?”
You turn to him in shock, disbelieving, still bending over your knees, not sure if you heard it right.
“What the fuck did you just call me, Harrington?”
“Now I got your attention, huh?” he chuckles sarcastically and bitterly, wincing from the pain. “And you heard what I said,” he holds your gaze, panting from the pain. “Why are you such a bitch to me when you are around him? We get along at the Halloween party,” he looks away, shutting his eyes from the pain. “I never did anything to you.”
“But you always do to my brother,” you straighten up, still looking at him, to his profile, your voice cold. “That's why I’m a bitch to you,” you spit bitterly.
“He starts it all the time, and you fucking know it.” His anger starts to rise slowly, the feeling mixing with the pain on his face.
“And you always ended up insulting him.” You lift your chin up, your breath becoming faster from the anger growing within you.
“I’m just defending myself, Mayfield. Don’t treat your brother like he is innocent,” he turns to face you again.
“I don’t, I just defend my own,” you state, still looking at him. Firm, simple, an oath of loyalty to your beloved ones.
He shakes his head, looking away, smirking in disbelief, a bitter taste on his tongue, biting his lower lip from frustration and incomprehension. The adrenaline was hitting again; his face was hurting just slightly now. “Why are you so loyal to him? He is such an asshole.”
“He is not,” you affirm quickly, firmly, not giving space for disagreement, looking ahead of you to the opposite wall.
They stay silent for a while, the anger on Steve fading again, his pain a little more bearable now.
“But he is to me,” he speaks quietly, simply stating a fact.
The silence comes back again for a couple of minutes.
“He sees you as a threat,” you say in the same tone as him.
He turns to you way too quickly, surprised, wincing through his teeth and shutting his eyes for a second before answering, confusion all over his features when he opens his eyes, "I'm a threat because of what?”
“Your power”
He chuckles, in shock, in disbelief, “Power? about what?”
“Everything”, you look at your feet. The silence lies on them again.
“I don’t get it,” he murmurs, confused, the gears running on his head, trying to comprehend this craziness.
You sigh, looking up at the ceiling, your leg shaking again. “You’re the most popular guy in school, probably at Hawkins as well. You can get and do anything you want, and everyone will be willing to fulfill your wishes. This is the power you have, Harrington.” You spit in an angry, unique breath, bending over your knees again, pressing your hand on your forehead, tired of all this bullshit.
He just stares at you, understanding what you are saying but not comprehending why Billy cares about it so much. Steve himself doesn’t care anymore! If he could, he would bury this past of himself seven feet deep.
All this popularity game was always so performative and exhausting to him. He just did it for the first two years in high school, trying to deal with his loneliness and low self-esteem.
But Billy? Steve could be wrong, but Billy doesn’t seem to be lonely. He looks pretty close to you and his other sister, Max, as Dustin told him a few times. And both of you always seem to stand by his side and be each other's lifeline.
However, unlike you, who has Eddie, and Max, who has the party as their friends, Billy doesn’t seem to have friends. He gets lunch with Tommy H. and Carol and is seen around with them sometimes, but Steve knows them; they are not the type of people who are friends, they are not even loyal to each other, so figure from a third.
The possibility now runs into Steve’s mind, connecting some dots, but he feels something is missing, and probably a really important point, but maybe he has figured something out, at least.
The principal's office door opens, and Mr. Higgins appears, looking at you on the bench, then focusing on Steve. “Mr. Harrington”, the principal called, giving space at the door, inviting him in.
Steve stands up, glancing at you, who is now straight up at the bench, leaning back against the wall, but with your leg still bouncing. He passes through you, entering the room.
“Miss Mayfield, you can return to your class. We don't want you to have your studies jeopardized over something you were not involved in.” Mr. Higgins nods firmly, doesn’t give room to discussion, and closes the door behind him.
“Oh!” he exclaims, opening the door again and looking at you. “Go to the infirmary and ask Mrs. Portland to bring some tissues and painkillers to Mr. Hargrove and Mr. Harrington to my office, please.” he didn’t wait for a reply, already closing the door.
You stay there for a whole minute before getting up, sighing in exhaustion, running a hand over your face, walking slowly to the infirmary, and then later to your class.
Note: Hey! I always saw this popularity thing in Billy as insecurity, and other things as well, but I'll show it to you later in the story. You already have an idea because of the show. I'm excited to share the next chapters of this story, and I hope you like them!
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Summary: It's Tina's Halloween party, but without the 'bullshit' part and with other characters, other relationships, other costumes. Less heartbreak and more complexity and layers.
Word count: 2.6k
Note: Hey! This was, by far, the chapter I liked the most to write! I did extensive research on a lot of songs from the early 80s and on pop culture references for the costumes. The costumes I picked for each one have a reason, even if it's not explicitly mentioned in this chapter. I walk you through it in the notes after.
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Saturday, November 3rd, 1984
Another weekend, another party, but a themed one, this time because it’s Halloween!
Eddie offered to pick up Billy and you at your house, along with the side quest to drop off Max at the Wheeler's for a sleepover.
You is seated at the front along with Eddie, both singing ‘For Those About to Rock We Salute You’ by AC/DC to one another, Eddie drumming against the wheel, and you against the headboard.
Billy is at the back, leaning back against the wall of the car, murmuring the lyrics to himself, while Max is in front of him, leaning against the van’s door, backpack on her lap, rocking her head at the rhythm of the song.
“We rock at dawn, on the front line
Like a bolt right out of the blue
The sky's alight with the guitar bite
Heads will roll and rock tonight”
Besides the little girl, all are wearing costumes. You are dressed like Daniel LaRusso from ‘The Karate Kid’ movie, Eddie is vampire John Blaylock from ‘The Hunger’, his hair in a bun, while Billy is dressed like Bon Jovi, even his hair is textured to add to the character.
After a while and some songs later, Eddie parks in front of the Wheeler's, Max already sliding the door open and jumping off with Billy right behind her. He passes an arm over her shoulders while walking her to the house, Max waving goodbye to you and Eddie, receiving one from you in return.
You watch as they get to the house, with Max knocking on the door and Karen opening it, a smile spreading across her face when she sees Billy in front of her.
You chuckle, shaking your head, rolling your eyes. Eddie, who was also watching your siblings, turns to you when he hears you laugh. “What, milady?” He asks, confused, smiling a little.
“Nothing, just Billy flirting with Mrs. Wheeler.” You look at the front door again. Max waves goodbye to you again, Karen following her gaze, and her eyes land on the van, waving back from afar, smiling warmly as always. Both of you in the van wave back at Karen, smiling.
Then Eddie turns to look at you again, with mischief in his features.
“Oh, that's something,” he laughs. You roll your eyes, but also laugh at his reaction. “And she seems to enjoy the attention. Logically, since Billy is a looker,” he states while looking at the front door of the Wheeler’s again, checking Billy out.
You laugh again, rolling your eyes, playfully slapping his shoulder, getting Eddie laughing incredulously back at you, covering his shoulder, his arms up in surrender.
“Every time Max goes there, she comes back home talking about how useless and boring Mr. Wheeler is, a wimp, she even says, sometimes,” you chuckles, shaking your head.
You look at Karen, a beautiful and kind woman with a sweet smile and soul, who receives a little of the attention she deserves from Billy.
“I don't know what will happen between them, but I'm glad to see her smiling like that,” you sigh, seeing a woman smile lightly as some guy says beautiful things to her.
Eddie looks at you, laughing in disbelief, “Didn't know you were a romantic type, milady.”
You roll your eyes, grinning and turning your attention to him, “Romance is my favorite genre, milord, of course I'm a romantic.” Eddie chuckles, ruffling your hair, but you pat his hand away, fixing the band around your head, showing your tongue while laughing.
You turn your attention back to the Wheeler's, Max is gone, and if you let him, Billy will be at their porch all night just pampering Karen, so you honk briefly to get Billy’s attention. He turns his back, looking at the van, with both you and Eddie calling him to come back.
Billy rolls his eyes in annoyance, turns his attention back to Karen, grabs her hand, and kisses her knuckles, making her melt. He says goodbye to her, heading back to the van, but obviously looking back at the house to have one last look at her, who is leaning against the doorframe, watching him go.
Billy jumps on the van on the front seats, putting you in the middle of the boys. Eddie turns on the engine and drives to Tina's party.
“Someday, Mr. Wheeler will be mad at you for flirting with his wife, Billy.” You chuckle, nudging him with your elbow, teasing him.
“He is a wimp, and if he doesn't appreciate the goddess he has at home,” he leans closer to you, a smirk on his lips and mischief in his eyes, “someone else will.” You laugh, rolling your eyes, looking at the road ahead, getting a laugh from Eddie as well.
“Just for curiosity, Hargrove, you only flirt with married people, or are the single ones worthy of your attention as well?” Eddie asks, smirking, looking at the road.
You and Billy look at Eddie with curiosity, and Billy smirks back at him. “It depends, Munson, about who is curious about it.”
“Just a friend,” he simply says, still looking at the road.
“Well, so tell the friend,” he chuckles, “that I’m multitasking.”
“Good to know, then,” he says, looking at Billy, smirking and winking at him, then back to the road.
You look from Eddie to Billy, laughing to yourself, shaking your head, leaning back in your seat, enjoying the rest of the ride, and giving them space to glance at each other if they are willing to.
The rest of the drive is quiet, except for the radio playing at a comfortable volume. When you arrive at the party, it's already full of teenagers in the most various costumes possible, with ‘Hungry Like the Wolf’ by Duran Duran coming from inside the house.
“Stalked in the forest, too close to hide
I'll be upon you by the moonlight side
Do-do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do, do-do-do, do-do
High blood drumming on your skin, it's so tight
You feel my heat, I'm just a moment behind
Do-do-do-do, do-do-do, do-do, do-do-do, do-do”
You three jump off the van, walking to the house, getting to the front door, and being met by a loud song and an alcohol smell when you open it.
As usual, Billy says a farewell to you and Eddie and looks after some beer, letting you two head slowly to the kitchen, looking for suspicious drinks to pour down their throats.
Eddie is filling your cups with some orange booze when Steve and Robin arrive at the party; he is dressed as Steven Carrington from ‘Dynasty’ and she as Amelia Earhart. Eddie whistles to them, calling their attention and waving for them to come over.
Robin smiles widely at Eddie and you when her eyes land on the source of the noise, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him with her towards you.
Steve is not so excited to meet you, mostly because of you and all the drama around you, but Eddie doesn't seem to notice, or even care, greeting him and Robin with a hug.
You, on the other hand, hug Robin tightly and warmly. When you let her go and turn your attention to Steve, the greeting is colder. “Harrington.”
“Mayfield.” Steve dips his chin, greeting as politely and as civilized as he can.
Eddie and Robin, excitedly nerding out about their costumes, leave Steve and you out of the conversation.
You sip your drink, paying attention to the people around you, noting who is there, who is kissing whom, and who is already drunk. Your usual alert mode, looking for exits, seeing if someone is drunk enough to start a fight, things like that.
Meanwhile, Steve looks at you.
You caught his attention and curiosity since the last party by noticing how you are loud and take up space, are comfortable when you are around your friends, but quiet and in your own world when you are not with them, just like now, that is just the two of you.
Moreover, Steve thought badly of you. You are not up for Billy’s bullshit, as he thought you would; on the contrary, actually, you call him out when you is around him, just like you did last Saturday.
And he can’t deny that he finds you attractive, beautiful, interesting, complex in a way that pulls him closer, curious.
Steve looks at the band around your forehead, your short hair, and the white kimono on your body, and notices how they fit you nicely; stronger than his self-control, he asks and teases you.
“So you weren’t kidding when you threatened me, huh?” he chuckles, leaning back at the counter, on your side, recalling your first encounter, pointing with his chin to your costume, sipping from his drink, looking you up and down.
You turn suspiciously at Steve, your cup on your lips, looking at him a little annoyed, even. “Glad that you didn't need me to punch you in the face to be sure I was serious that day.”
Steve has a lop-sided smile on his lips, a little smug, must add, taking another sip from his cup, looking down at you.
“Oh, you made yourself pretty clear back there already,” he chuckles, locking his eyes on yours. “Just hope not to give you reasons to put your skills to the test,” he smirks.
You hold his gaze back, chuckling in disbelief at his statement, leaning your side against the counter, facing him fully now. “I would beat your ass, this is for sure.”
“No doubt about it, but just to make myself clear,” he leans towards you, taking a sip of his drink, still looking at your eyes, “This whole fighting thing?” he points vaguely between you two, “That’s not my thing, you know?”
Steve leans away from you, back to his original position, taking another sip from his drink, still locking his eyes on you. “I prefer to touch girls in a different way.”
You chuckle in disbelief, taking another sip from your drink to hide a smirk growing on your lips and to dismiss the butterflies showing on your stomach. “Only girls?” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him, the stubborn smirk spreading on your face.
Steve laughs, making a playful, wondering face, shrugging next, and taking a sip from his drink, still looking at you. “No, not only girls, but differently from the ladies, some guys deserve to be beaten up.”
You laugh, amused, glad with his answer, well, at least you two have two things in common, huh? Then you nod, a smile on your face. “That’s true,” taking a light laugh from Steve.
You look around at the party again, shaking your head and tapping your feet on the floor at the rhythm of ‘Somebody’s watching Me’ by Rockwell.
And Steve watches you again without even trying to hide it, noticing how excited you get when the chorus is close to beginning, how you sing to yourself, closing your eyes, and places the cup just under your lips, like it’s a microphone.
“I always feel like somebody's watchin' me
And I have no privacy (Oh-oh-oh)
I always feel like somebody's watchin' me
Tell me, is it just a dream?”
While the song still plays, you glance at Steve again, finding him looking at you, as if he were watching his favorite TV show: entertained and curious to see the rest of it.
“What?” You chuckle at him, a grin spreading over your face, a little blush on your cheeks, and butterflies in your stomach again.
Steve doesn't respond right away, locking his eyes on yours, taking a sip from his drink, and giving you a smirk back.
“Nothing.”
You hold his gaze for a second longer, shaking your head, looking away, hiding a grin and a blush behind your cup, finishing your drink.
While you are filling your cup again, ‘Bark to the Moon’ by Ozzy Osborn starts to play, and Robin runs up to you, grabs your hand, and takes you to the dance floor, making you laugh loudly, drinking from your cup to keep it from spilling.
At the counter are now just Eddie and Steve, looking at the you girls sprinting to the dance floor. Eddie passes an arm over Steve’s shoulders, bringing him closer, smirking.
“Told you she was nice, didn’t I?” Eddie teases, making Steve roll his eyes, grinning, releasing from his arms, and heading to the dancefloor as well, followed by Eddie, but without taking his eyes from you.
They get to you, forming a little circle with the four of you, dancing with the music, singing along with all your lungs at the chorus.
“Those that the beast is looking for
Listen in awe and you'll hear him
Bark at the Moon
Hey yeah, bark at the Moon”
After some songs, your cups go empty again, and Eddie and Robin offer to grab more booze, leaving you and Steve by yourselves, facing each other on the dance floor.
You glance at each other from time to time, both looking away to hide a growing smile. You couldn’t deny that Steve was attractive, which made it harder to ignore him when he was in front of you, so close, flirting so openly.
When you glance at each other again, a guy approaches you from your side, enters your personal space, startles you, and speaks close to your ear. “Hey, LaRusso,” the guy half-flirting and half-teasing.
“Not interested,” you groan to the guy, rolling your eyes, really uncomfortable by the proximity, looking the opposite way where he is, taking a step aside as well. Steve is alert now, watching you getting away from the guy.
But seems like the guy doesn’t take the hint, or doesn’t care about consent, since he takes a step closer, invading your personal space again. “A beautiful girl like you should smile more, you know?”
Before you could answer anything back, Steve was already between you and the annoying guy, shielding you from him, facing the man down. “She said she is not interested,” his voice steady, firm.
“Get off, dude,” the guy says back, taking a step to his side, like he was going around Steve, who followed the guy’s move, shielding you again, not letting him reach or see you again.
“You will have to pass through me to get to her, dude,” Steve says, chuckling bitterly, and takes a step towards the guy, almost chest-to-chest with him. “And I guarantee you this will not happen, even if my life depends on this,” he says in a threatening voice.
Steve and the guy look at each other for a while, then the latter steps back, holding the gaze on for a last second before turning around and vanishing through the crowd. When Steve is sure he is lost in sight, he turns back to you.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, soft but also with concern in his eyes and voice, his hands hovering on your side, flexing his fingers, unsure if he can hold you or not.
Before you can respond to anything, Eddie and Robin come back, carrying your drinks, but Steve can’t look away from you until he is sure you are okay, giving them no attention.
Robin hands you your drink, but you seem unable to take your eyes off him either, nodding to his question after a while, smiling weakly, your heart pounding in your chest, not entirely sure why.
When Steve receives the affirmative from you, he smiles in relief, grabs his cup from Robin, and clinks his cup with yours. You mirror his smile.
All this interaction makes Robin and Eddie confused, looking at each other and suspicious of their best friends.
But both shrug, smiling, and you four do the little circle again, dancing and drinking together, but Steve is now on your side, brushing against your shoulder now and then, glancing at each other from time to time, a smile appearing on your lips occasionally.
Note: Hey! I don't know about you guys, but I don't like Ted Wheeler, so I write the scenes with Billy and Karen happily. And Eddie and Billy? Yeah, I ship them HARD. I kicked my feet while writing, Steve and the reader flirting and interacting properly. I had to stop writing numerous times to giggle to myself. I hope I'm not the only one. Now, about the costumes:
Bon Jovi for Billy, just because I think he would really like his music;
the reader is Daniel LaRusso because she is good at fighting, even though I'm not sure if I'll show a scene of her fighting or something;
Eddie is dressed as John Blaylock from the movie 'The Hunger,' portrayed by David Bowie, a queer icon back then. The character is a vampire, which is usually associated with a more fluid and free sexuality. Since I truly believe Eddie would be pansexual, I thought this would work out because of Bowie himself and because of the character;
there are rumors that Amelia Earhart could be queer, bi, or lesbian, so putting Robin dressed as her made a lot of sense for me;
About Steve's costume, I found something REALLY interesting: Steven Carrington is a character from a soap opera named 'Dynasty' (and I'd like to imply that Jane watches it, and that's where Steve got the reference and identification). He is described as gay but has relationships with men and women, implying he is possibly bisexual. HIS NAME BEING SO SIMILAR TO STEVE HARRINGTON MAKES ME TRULY BELIEVE THAT STEVE IS CANONICALLY BI (yeah, this topic makes me too excited).
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Summary: With a lot of 80s songs, the party happens, showing how the group interacts and how Steve takes the reader and her behavior into account.
Word count: 3.2k
Note: Hey! Writing about parties is SO FUN to me. I can explore different dynamics and environments, roles, behaviors, and, most importantly, add various songs! As I said previously, I'm not from the 80s, and I also didn't grow up listening to this kind of music, so the curation was all freestyle haha. This is the last chapter of this day.
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You arrive at the party, Billy parking his Camaro a block away because the whole street is full of parked cars, the music already audible, Cindy Lauper's song, ‘She Bop’, blasting over.
“Do I wanna go out with a lion's roar?
Yeah, I wanna go south and get me some more
Hey, they say that a stitch in time saves nine
They say I better stop or I'll go blind
Oop, she bop, she bop”
When you reach the driveway, walking side by side, Eddie comes from the opposite direction, on foot, just like you. He approaches, wolf-whistling at you, looking you up and down.
“Milady,” he exclaims, a little breathless, a hand over his heart, grabbing your hand with his other hand, spinning you to get a better look at you. “Call the cops on you because you stole this poor bastard’s heart, sweetheart.” he pulls you into a tight hug, making you giggle, whispering in your ear, “and smell as fine as flowers could ever smell.”
You hug him back, pulling away a couple of seconds before, blushing, pushing his shoulder playfully.
“Shut up, Eddie,” smiling widely, even shyly. “You’re handsome as well, by the way”. He is wearing leather pants, a Metallica shirt, black boots, his punk rings, and a leather jacket, his black curls free like always, and he smells good too, some punk rock & roll star perfume, if this is even a thing.
“We are matching in black”, you grin, pointing to your jackets.
He leans to you, whispering, “Milady can’t be seeing around a sloppy guy, I have to look extra nice tonight.” he winks at you, turning then to Billy, “Hey man,” patting his shoulder, nodding in a greeting.
“Hey, Munson,” Billy smiles back, greeting in return, heading to the porch of the house. You grab Eddie’s arm, arm-to-arm, following Billy. He opens the door for you and enters shortly after.
The house is loud, full of high schoolers, Cher’s ‘Bad Love’ playing on the speakers, while Billy is already heading to the backyard. It seems like there is some kind of alcohol competition over there. Billy’s type of fun.
“I wanna meet a bad boy in the night
We're gonna make some bad love, wrong or right
Ooh, I know that bad love is all appetite”
“Take care of her, Munson, okay? I’ll be around if needed,” ruffling your hair, letting you there, already lost in the crowd.
You roll your eyes, smiling, grab Eddie’s hand, pull him into the kitchen, looking for red cups and some drink. He grabs one for each in a corner, fills them with some red drink from a bowl on the countertop, gives one to you, interlocks your arms, and drinks it all at once.
He shouts excitedly, shaking his head, eyes and smile wide, making you laugh, grabbing your hand, and pulling you to the dance floor in the living room, “Let’s go, milady, let’s get this party started!”
Queen’s ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ is playing all volume up, you and Eddie dancing in the middle of a bunch of known and unknown faces, having the time of your lives.
“How do you think I'm gonna get along
Without you, when you're gone?
You took me for everything that I had
And kicked me out on my own
Are you happy, are you satisfied?
How long can you stand the heat?
Out of the doorway, the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat
Look out”
After a while, when Thriller plays loudly, your smile grows on your face, lighting it up, as you look at Eddie with anticipation.
“No, no, no, no,” he shakes his head, denying your request, smirking at you until the song’s bridge. You put your hands together, like in a plea, pouting at him, puppy-dogging your eyes.
Eddie rolls his eyes all the back of his head, his smile softening, looking at you again, he can’t resist when you do those puppy-dog eyes.
When the chorus hit, he does a little jump like in the choreography, rolling his eyes in fake annoyance, smiling softly at you, his best friend.
Your smile widens, laughing loudly, dancing along with him, finally, after days of getting him to learn the choreography with you.
“'Cause this is thriller, thriller night
And no one's gonna save you
From the beast about to strike
You know it's thriller, thriller night
You're fighting for your life inside a killer
Thriller tonight, yeah
Ooh”
Some heads turn to look at both of you, but you and Eddie don’t seem to care, enjoying each other's company too much to even consider any importance to it.
When the song is over, you jump into his arms, hugging him tightly and laughing with so much joy, so fucking happy you found someone like him, the light of your life, your platonic soulmate, probably.
Eddie holds you back, laughing along, so fucking happy to have found someone like you, the light of his life, his platonic soulmate, probably.
From time to time, for the first two hours, Eddie disappears, then reappears twice with your cups full, drinking them in interlocked arms again.
You are on your fourth drink, sipping it from time to time, a little drunk already, when Nancy and Jonathan arrive. You pull Eddie by his hand, dragging him throughout the crowd to get to the couple at the front door.
“Nance! Jon! You’re here!” You exclaim in front of them, letting Eddie’s hand go and hugging both, one on each of your arms, smiling widely.
“Hey!” Jonathan says your name, laughing from the sudden hug. They pull back from you, exchanging looks between both of them, “Guess you already had a few drinks, huh?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows, Nance chuckling beside him.
You pass your arm around Eddie’s waist, getting closer to him, smiling widely at the couple, resting your head on Eddie’s shoulder, with him passing his arms around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head. “Hell yeah! Want some?” You point with your thumb over your shoulder. “There is a bowl full of this red drink in the kitchen, if you’re interested”.
Nancy denies, shaking her head, smiling at you. “Not for now, but thanks!” She looks around, stretching her neck, scanning the people at the party. “Have you seen Steve or Robin?”
“Harirngton is here?” You chuckle, a little annoyed, rolling your eyes. “I didn't have the pleasure of encountering him yet; maybe he is in the backyard. I haven’t gone there yet.”
Eddie chuckles on your side, shaking his head. “This thing between you two is something.”
You turn to look up at him, your expression a little confused and already annoyed. “What’s that supposed to mean, Munson?”
He shrugs, smirking at you, “Dunno, he never did anything to you, but you still seem not to like him, that’s just what I’m saying”.
“He talks shit about Billy. Do I need more reasons?”
“He just says shit when your brother says or does shit first, he is just defending himself, milady,” he says, softer, but smirking at you still. “You can't expect a knight not to defend his honor when an opponent threatens it.”
And before you could say anything, just like magic, the front door opened beside the quartet, with Steve and Robin showing up. He is wearing all black, jeans, a shirt, a blouse, sneakers, and Robin is the sun, wearing ripped denim jeans, a striped yellow and blue shirt, and a pair of moccasins.
“Speaking of the devil,” you say, looking up and down on him, already annoyed, then turning to Robin, your lips widening in a big smile, letting go of Eddie to hug her tightly. “Robin!” you say excitedly, bouncing her side to side, making Robin laugh, pulling back to look at you.
“Hey, Freckles, drunk already?” She ruffles your hair, laughing, putting her arm around your shoulders.
“Just because my hair is super short, you all keep ruffling it!” She whines playfully, pouting a little, bumping your hips on Robin’s, chatting with her, pulling Nancy and Jonathan excitedly to talk about the David Bowie album Robin made her listen to after the French class the day before, letting Steve and Eddie aside unintentionally.
Eddie takes a step closer theatrically towards Steve, raising his eyebrows, smirking at him. “Guess we are spare parts, dude,” he chuckles, pointing to the formed group with his chin.
Steve chuckles back, looking at the group, how easy-going you seem to be around everyone, but not with him. He shakes his head, a little irritated. “Agree,” he nods, then points to the kitchen. “Come with me to grab something then,” calling Eddie to follow him, already heading to the kitchen.
They get to the counter, Steve grabbing a cup for himself, filling his and Eddie’s with the mix from a bowl, green now, looking at the group across the room. “So she forgot about you?” he asks Eddie, pointing at you with his chin, taking a sip of his drink, looking away, scanning the people around them, leaning against the counter.
Eddie laughs, taking a sip of his new drink, looking to where he is pointing. “Nah, she is just chatting with them. I’m glad she is making friends, being new in a town like Hawking is tough.”
Steve looks at you, sipping his drink as well. He analyzes your features, your relaxed demeanor around anyone but him, your wide, loose smile, and your laughter. He snorts, shaking his head, looking away. “Dunno. She and her brother seem not to care about that stuff,” he affirms, annoyed, irritated even, taking a longer sip of his drink.
Eddie shrugs, looking at how free you are now. He smiles with tenderness, takes a deep breath, and his eyes soften as well. His chest warms for all the love he already feels towards you.
Steve catches this, looking at Eddie, chuckling at him, amused, “Gone for her already, Munson?”
He laughs, shaking his head, “Yes, but not like that, Harrington.” He turns to face him, leaning back at the countertop. “She is gorgeous, intelligent, and interesting as hell. But we are indeed just really good friends. Best friends, I might add. Deeper even, if you allow me to be a little too sappy.” he sips his drink again, looking at the quartet across the room.
Steve looks at him, truly looking at Eddie, reading his expressions and body language. He really seems to tell the truth about his feelings, and this confuses Steve, who shakes his head slightly, his face twisted into a slightly disgusted expression.
“She is a douchebag just like her brother; I don’t understand why you like her this much. She is unbearable, just like him.” Steve takes a bigger sip, finishing his first drink, filling his cup with more of this green thing, a little uneasy with this conversation, but he doesn’t look into it for now.
“Wow, Harrington, don’t you ever talk about her like that again.” Eddie turns to him, tone and eyes firm on him. “She is the most loyal and sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure to know.” He turns to look at you again, a soft smile growing on his lips, and his voice softens as well.
“She is really kind, and really fucking loyal to her ones, and it’s a fucking honor to be one of them. She will defend you with all her strength if needed.” He turns to look at Steve again. “Even to her brother, she is absolutely loyal and will defend him if needed. Oh! Who, by the way, is not an asshole, actually.” Turning to look at the group again, bending over the countertop, sipping his drink.
Steve looks at Eddie, confused. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”
“That's true,” he nods, straightening up, looking at him again, shrugging. “You both just have a beef because he wants to be the new King of Hawkins High,” he chuckles, shaking his head, sipping his drink.
Steve rolls his eyes, annoyed with the idea. “Are you kidding me? I don't even care about this shit anymore, he can take this fucking title if he is so willing to.” he drinks again, shaking his head, looking at Eddie, “Do you know why, at least?”
He shrugs, “She never told me anything, I never asked either.” He puts his hand on Steve's chest, looking at his eyes, “That’s a mystery you have to solve, big boy.” He beats his chest, smirking at him, “Now c’mon, I miss milady.” Eddie says, already walking towards you, Steve following right behind, going across the crowd.
‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ starts to play on the speakers. You scream with excitement, grab Robin and Nancy's hands, pull them onto the dance floor, and slip between Eddie and Steve.
“Oh, c’mon, milady! Are you really going to leave this poor bastard behind without his muse?” whines Eddie, teasing, smirking, while you pass through him.
You smile, winking at him. “Don’t miss me too much, milord,” you shout over your shoulder, getting to the dance floor with the girls, singing with all their hearts.
“That's all they really want
Some fun
When the workin' day is done
Oh, girls, they wanna have fun
Oh, girls just wanna have fun”
Eddie chuckles, shaking his head, looking at Jonathan, “Hey, Byers, I didn’t say hi to you.” he hugs him quickly, patting his shoulders. “You okay?” Pulling back a little, concerned, he sees Jonathan’s body bending a little, his toes back and forth, hands deep in his front pockets.
He shakes his head, smiling with his mouth closed, briefly, looking at Eddie. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, just-” he looks around, taking a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath “Too many people here, don't you think?”
Steve steps in, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Let’s go outside then, must be quieter than here.” He was already heading Jonathan to the back of the house, calling Eddie with his head, asking him to follow them.
The three get to the backyard, shutting the glass door behind them, the music just a background noise now. There is a group of people in front of the back door doing a keg stand competition. And of course, Billy is in the middle of them.
Steve just rolls his eyes and drags Jonathan, with Eddie on his side, to a bench far from this game, sitting there with each boy on each side. “Better?” he asks Jonathan.
“Yeah, man, thanks,” he smiles weakly, looking at the people outside.
They chat about nothing in particular, school, weekend plans, Thanksgiving, and so on. Some time goes by, and the back door leading to the backyard opens, the music getting louder, calling the guys’ attention. Nancy, you, and Robin are standing by the door, probably looking for them, scanning the people out there trying to find them, so Eddie shouts at you, you turn your head at the sound, smiling at him when your eyes cross, pulling the girls with you after shutting the door close again.
“Hey!” you exclaim, Nancy sitting on Jonathan's lap, and both you and Robin are on the ground in front of the group, looking up at them. “We have been here for almost three hours now, and it’s really fun here,” you affirm to Eddie, smiling widely.
“I bet the company and the booze helps,” he winks at you, ruffles your hair. You laugh, showing your tongue to him, turning your back to his legs, leaning back at them, resting the back of your head on his knees, chatting to him and Robin.
Steve looks at you, really looks for a while, actually. He can’t deny that you are indeed pretty, really pretty actually, mostly now because of your flushed cheek from the alcohol, enhancing the freckles just under your eyes.
But you are a real pain in the ass when it’s about Billy, who provokes Steve constantly, and when he defends himself, you always talk him back, making you unbearable, just like Billy. Why do his friends have to like you so much?
He shakes his head, focusing on Jonathan and Nancy instead, talking to them about the last movies they watched. The six of them stay like this, talking and connecting for a long time, until Billy decides to show up.
“Hey, sis”, you hear, following the speech, seeing Billy leaving the contest and heading to where you are. His hair is a mess, presumably from handstanding that much, and his cheeks are pink just like yours; he is drunk too, probably.
“Hey, bro,” you respond, hearing Steve on your side at the bench, shifting a little on his seat, tensing probably. “Having fun?” you smile weakly, looking up at Billy.
“Actually, yeah,” he turns to Steve, smirking, lifting his chin up, “what about you, King Steve? You don't want to join? We are having a hell of a fun” he chuckles teasingly.
Steve wrinkled his nose, annoyed and disgusted by all this interaction. “Not my thing”.
“Maybe nowadays, but Tommy H. said you rocked it just a couple of years ago,” he chuckles sarcastically, “c’mon, man, let's put this to the test, huh? See who is the actual winner.”
Steve chuckles bitterly, looking away, finding with the corner of his eye you rolling your eyes, annoyed just like him. He bites his inner cheek to hide the smile from spreading all over his face.
“Be my guest, Hargrove, the winner's title is all yours,” he raises the cup as a toast, bored, smiling sarcastically at him, weakly. “Congratulations”
Billy looks away, rubbing his chin, smirking sarcastically, and turning his gaze back to Steve, pointing a finger towards him. “You know what, Harrington? You think-”
“Enough, William,” you state.
Not a request. Not a suggestion. A demand.
You look up at your brother, a little annoyed and tired of this whole bullshit for the night. Neil and now this? Your gaze is firm, no place for discussion.
“Not tonight, please”. You soften just a little, but it is still not a suggestion.
Billy looks at you furiously at first, his gaze softening when he notices your tiredness. You exchange a look for a while, the friends close to you look at the scene with curiosity, and Steve? He just stares at you first, then at Billy, then at both, your bonding, and the connection you have.
Finally, Billy nods to you briefly, turns his back, and walks towards the house, opens the back door, and re-enters the party, the music playing reaching the backyard for a moment until he closes the door behind him.
You watch him go. When he vanishes inside the house, you turn your body at Robin’s direction, resting your cheek on Eddie’s knees, pulling your legs to your chest, wrapping them with your arms. Eddie rubs your scalp kindly, caringly, looking down at you, his eyes full of empathy.
After some time in silence, trying to lighten the mood, Robin starts talking about a problem she and you are having with their French presentation on the book Les Misérables, engaging everyone with her story, even if it's just to make them laugh.
Even so, Steve doesn’t engage, keeping to look down at you, now quiet, lost in your thoughts, Eddie rubbing kindly at your scalp, taking care of you, your eyes lost even looking ahead of you, picking the skin of your finger. He feels something on his chest, but he shoves it down, shaking his head, trying to focus on the conversation around him.
Note: Hey! I don't know if it's clear, but I really like Eddie haha and imagining him dancing Thriller makes me so fucking happy and joyful. And Eddie calling Steve a big boy is something I couldn't ever let go of!
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Summary: The family dynamic is finally shown: the roles of each one in this circle, and how they act and deal with it. Oh, and Karen Wheeler gives the air of her grace as well.
Word count: 2.3k
Note: Hey! Here, I show more of Neil and Susan and how they interact with the kids, and how the reader, Max, and Billy deal with it. Hope you like it!
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Saturday, October 27th, 1984
It’s Saturday night, so this means someone at high school, probably a senior, is throwing a party somewhere around Hawkins.
You are in her room, getting changed with Max lying back on her own bed, flipping through some teen magazine from you, and giving outfit suggestions to you as well.
“Why don't you go with that leather jacket?” she points with her chin at it on the chair at your desk.
You put on her baggy denim jeans in front of the mirror, already wearing an emerald green crop top. You do a little spin, look at yourself in the mirror, then shift your focus to the jacket. “Do you think so? But it will cover my top”.
Max looks at you for a while, studying your looks, then turns to the jacket, shrugging. “It adds layers, more fashionable.” Grabbing the magazine, lifting it to show you a page with something written in huge letters. “See? Layers”.
You nod in agreement, looking at the women wearing jackets at the magazine, then walk to your own leather jacket, put it on, and walk back to the mirror, posing in front of it. “Better?”
Max kept following you with her eyes, looking at you up and down. “Much better!” she smiles at you through the mirror. “You’re gorgeous.”
You smile tenderly at her, thankfully. You sit on your bed, with two boot options on the floor in front of you, looking down at them. “The black or the white one?”
Max analyses the boots for a while, looking from them to you over and over. “Black, definitely, matches the leather jacket.”
You nod again, put on the boots, get up, and grab a chain belt from your bedside table, closing its hooks on loops of your jeans.
You go to your dressing table, sit in the chair in front of it, and draw a green graphic liner on your eyes: a cat eye, a little under your eyebrows, with some dots beside your eyes as well. You apply perfume and turn to Max, waiting for her verdict.
“If you come home without kissing anyone tonight, it will be a society crime,” Max says, teasing, but also caring. “You look amazing.”
You roll your eyes, grinning at her. You get up, walk toward Max’s bed, lean over her, and kiss the top of her head. “Thanks, sweetie.”
A knock on their door.
“Come in,” You authorized, looking up at the door.
The door opens, and it’s Billy. He is wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a wine muscle tee, a denim vest, white boots, aviator sunglasses, and a cigarette in his mouth.
“Wow, sis,” he looks you up and down, wolf-whistles. “This all for Munson?”
You roll your eyes, smiling, flipping him a finger, “Eddie is just a friend, Billy. Don’t start this bullshit again, huh?” You look firmly at him, but smiling still.
He shrugs, teasing, “If you say so”. He looks at Max, “Ready? I’ll drop you at the Wheeler’s before getting us to the party.”
Max stands up, grabs her backpack lying on her bed, and gets on your side. “Ready!”
“Let’s go then!” He smiles, opening the door to give you space to pass. Max goes first through the hallway, then you, and Billy follows just behind.
Neil and Susan are in the living room, watching ‘Rocky III'.
“Bye, Mom, bye, Neil,” you and Max say together, waving to them, crossing between the living room on your left and the kitchen on your right. The parents answer back, turning their attention to you girls for a second, then turning back to the TV, and Max exits the house first towards Billy’s car.
“Take care of your sister at that party, William,” says Neil, eyes locked at the screen again, a cold and firm tone coming from his mouth.
You are about to leave the door when you go still, freeze at the door, your body tensing, alert.
“Or we will have a talk when you get home, do you understand?” Neil turns his face to look at Billy, his eyes dark, his chin lifted slightly up.
Billy has faded his loose smile from before, straightened his posture, tensed his jaw, a mix of anger and fear in his eyes, a look only you and Max have learned to identify over those years as your family turned into one.
Susan is in an armchair, placed across the room, facing you and Billy. She gets still as well, her head still looking at the screen, avoiding Neil or you across from the room, in front of her.
Like always.
Neglectful. Passive.
Billy closes his hands in fists alongside his body, giving only a short and firm nod back as steady and calm as he can be. “Yes, sir.”
The room stays silent for a while, Neil narrowing his eyes at Billy, holding his gaze.
“Good,” he holds Billy's gaze for a second more, then turns his attention to the TV again.
Billy passes through you without waiting another second of this bullshit, grabbing you by your arm just enough to pull you out of the house, shutting the door behind you, doing his best not to slam it.
Max looks up from the backseat door. She is leaning back at it, noticing the tension on your bodies and expressions. She pulls away from the door, still watching you as they get closer, realizing what probably happened at the house, straightening her posture too.
Billy gets to the driver's seat, opens the car, and you three enter silently, all of you tense in your own way: Billy with his clenched jaw, you with your rigid shoulders, and Max with her wide, alert eyes.
He pulls over from the driveway, and the first minutes of the ride happen in total silence, not even the radio is playing.
You look at Max from the rearview mirror, your eyes meet, and you exchange a nod. You look at Billy.
“Hey”, you grab his shoulder softly, “don’t let him ruin our night.” He tenses his jaw a little more, tightening his grip on the wheel as well, his knuckles turning white.
“Everything will be okay, and I can defend myself if needed,” you say, squeezing his shoulder, “You taught me some stuff, remember? We did this before, and he never found out, remember?”
Billy turns to look at you, holding your gaze for a second longer, then turns his attention back to the road. “I know, it's just-” he shakes his head, taking a deep breath, “I care about you so much, and he doesn't seem to see that!” he says, frustrated.
He chuckles sarcastically, shifting in the car seat, trying to release the tension. “Since my mom ran away from him, from me,” he exclaims bitterly, but also with pain in his voice, “he treats me like I’m the reason she left, and not because he beat her up!” he spits the words with anger, shaking his head, taking deep breaths, holding the wheel tighter.
You all stay in silence for a while, until Billy continues, a little calmer, turning to look at you, his eyes a little wet. “I’ll always protect you, from him or from anyone else.” Firmly, “I couldn’t protect my mother from him back then, but now I can do this for you and Max, and for your mother even, if needed.”
He takes a deep breath, “I’m glad he beat me up instead of you three, and I’m gladder that he only does that when it’s just me and him at the house,” he looks at Max through the rearview mirror “Because I would never let you see what abuse is. Never” he holds Max gaze, then yours, turning his attention back to the road.
You pass your arm over his shoulder, squeeze it, and rest your head on the other one. He kisses the top of your head, sniffing hard, his eyes on the road.
“He will never touch you again, Billy. Not here. I’ll never let you be alone with him again.”
“Me neither.” Max places her hand above yours on Billy’s shoulder, reassuring him as well. “New place, new reality”.
He chuckles weakly at the affection he is receiving, the tension in his body easing slowly. You stay in silence for a while, then Max breaks it, her head resting on the back of Billy's seat.
“He is a piece of shit asshole,” Max murmurs, more to herself, but from the proximity, you two listen.
Billy shakes his head, laughing, the tension leaving his body a little more, “damn right he is, kiddo.”
Max laughs weakly back, looking at him through the rearview mirror, then to you, the atmosphere lighter now.
After a few more minutes, they get to the Wheeler’s, Billy parking in the family driveway, with you three getting out of the car to take Max to the front door.
Billy rings the doorbell when arriving at the porch, and just a few seconds after, a woman opens the door. She is in her mid-40s, with beautiful blonde hair and kind features, wearing a floral sleeveless dress that falls just above her knees.
Billy smirks widely, leaning against the doorframe, looking her up and down, his eyes shining in mischief, looking into the woman’s eyes. “Wow,” he chuckles charmingly, “I didn't notice Nancy had a sister”.
Max groans in embarrassment, elbowing Billy on his ribs, getting an ‘ouch’ from his lips in response, while Mrs. Wheeler blushes and smiles back.
“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, this is my brother Billy and my sister”, she introduces you by your name. “Thanks for having me for the sleepover!”
Mrs. Wheeler smiles at Max, greeting her, “Of course, honey, it’s always a pleasure to have you here!” Then she turns to you and Billy, smiling widely, “Hello, kids! It’s nice to put a face on a name!”
While you wave shyly at Mrs. Wheeler, smiling back at her, Billy gently grabs her hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of it, his eyes locked on hers. “What a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Wheeler. I hope the face that you now put on my name is to your liking.”
Mrs. Wheeler gasps from the touch of his lips, melting a little, biting her bottom lip a little, shivers running down her body, looking at the young, gorgeous man at her front door. “Call me Karen, please”, she says weakly, enchanted by him, unable to say anything else.
Max coughs forcefully, getting Karen’s attention, making her shake her head, focusing on you girls instead, blushing at the previous interaction with Billy, and grabbing your hands. “So nice to finally meet you, dear! I always overheard Max and the boys talking about you. It's so nice to finally meet you.” She smiles tenderly.
You look at Billy, who is still smirking and looking Karen up and down. You roll your eyes at him, then turn to Mrs. Wheeler again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Wheeler,” you smile back, squeezing her hands in return, letting them go. “Is it really okay if Max stays here for the night?”
“Of course! The kids will all sleep over here tonight, so you can go to your party, don’t worry about that.” She pats Max on the shoulder. “Go inside, honey. Mike and Lucas are already in the basement.”
Max hugs you and Billy, heading inside the Wheeler’s, shouting them a goodbye over her shoulder, and then Nancy gets down the stairs, looking at the ginger girl sprinting down to the basement, then at the front door, her face lighting up when she recognizes you and Billy.
“Hey!” she greets you by your name, smiles at you, then goes to them. “Hello, Billy.” She waves, then turns to you again, smiling widely, “You look amazing! You two are going to Bruce’s party?”
You smile and hug Nancy warmly and quickly. “Yeah, we are just dropping Max here and heading there. Are you and Jonathan coming as well?”
She nods, smiling, “Yeah, it's not his type of thing, but I wanted to go, so he decided to come with me. But now that I know you’re coming, maybe he will get a little more excited to go”.
You dismiss it, smiling, “You are just being nice. But yeah, Jonathan is really nice. Did he show you the photos we did together for our class last week?” You get so excited when talking about photography, “He helped me a lot with his tips! I’m learning a lot from him.”
Nancy laughs tenderly, “Yeah! They ended up amazing, Nat! He always says you are his favorite duo to shoot with, and you get his ideas. I’m glad he found someone who likes photography and stuff just like him does,” She smiles kindly at you.
“And I’m glad for the same reason,” you chuckle. “Well… See you both later there! I don't like to get late to parties,” you hug Nancy tightly.
“See you later!” Nancy says, and hugs back.
You turn to Karen, smiling thankfully, “Thanks again, Mrs. Wheeler. Have a good night.”
“It’s Karen, honey, please!” she smiles kindly, “good party for you two, have fun!”
You wave to both Nancy and Mrs. Wheeler goodbye, smiling thankfully, needing to pull Billy by the back of his vest, since if it depended on him, he would be at that damn fucking doorframe all night, drooling over Karen.
They enter his Camaro, Billy still with his eyes fixed on Karen, his eyes still with that mischief gaze. “For god’s sake, William, let’s go!” you groan, irritated, buckling her belt.
He laughs, shaking his head, pulling over on reverse at the driveway, focusing his attention on the road, and turning his body to look back at the back window. After a while, already heading to the party, he asks, “Do you know if she is happily married or just married?”
“For fuckings sake, William, just shut up, please!” you groan louder, rolling your eyes, making Billy laugh harder.
Note: Hey! The scenes I write with Neil are always really hard, emotionally speaking. I feel myself tensing up because of him as well. And yeah, I HAD to write that iconic scene of Billy and Karen. Mrs. Wheeler deserves that attention!!! And I loved to write the reader and Max interacting. I have always loved her since she was introduced as a character in 2017, so writing about her as the reader's sister fills a hole in my heart. Also, as I said in the warnings, Billy is not a racist here, so he is 'just' traumatized, and writing about him and his sisters going through all this but TOGETHER heals something in me as well. The night continues in the next chapter, by the way.
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Note: Hey! I really enjoyed writing this one; it was fun to try to connect as many people in the same scene as possible.
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Besides that scene on PE, the rest of the afternoon was calm, but also quieter, at least to you. Eddie noticed the shift in your mood, the picking at the skin around your fingers, the constant feeling of being lost in your eyes, and your distracted behavior in class. So he stays close, hovering, present, reassuring.
You didn’t have the last class, so you headed to Billy’s car at the parking lot, Eddie always on your heels. You sit on the hood, your forearms resting on your knees, looking at the school door, with Eddie leaning back at the hood on your side, crossing his arms on his chest.
“Want to talk about what happened, milady?” he asks softly, looking down at you.
You take a moment, looking at the school's front door, rewinding everything that happened in PE class. You shrug.
“There is nothing to talk about. But thanks anyway”. You don’t look at him.
Feeling the tenseness in your body, your hands rubbing together, he slides closer, passing an arm around your shoulders, rubbing one of them, pulling you closer.
After some seconds of silence, you rest your head over his shoulder, taking a deep breath. You stay like that for a couple of minutes, until you see Max coming out of school with her new friends.
You lift your head and wave to your little sister, calling for her and her friends. Max waves back, smiling widely, calling the four boys and the girl to follow her. They cross the parking lot to get to you.
“This is my sister, guys,” she says to them, then turns to you. “Those are Will, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and El,” then she turns to Eddie, furrowing her eyes, “Who is he?”
You smile at the kids, your heart warming from your sister getting along with her new friends. Will and El are the quietest, shiest even, but look kind, waving shyly at her. Dustin is the most energetic, while Lucas and Mike say a hi, smiling a little.
“Nice to meet you, guys,” you say, introducing yourself, extending your hand to them, shaking each one's hand, smiling tenderly at each. “This one is Eddie.” You lean closer and pass an arm around his waist.
“Hey, you’re the ones who like D&D, right?” he asks, pulling Nat closer by her shoulder, wiggling eyebrows, smiling mischievously at them.
“Hell yeah!” answers Dustin, his cute toothless smile, excited from the acknowledging moment. “I’m a bard, Mike is mostly our master, but plays as a paladin sometimes, Lucas is a ranger, Will is a wizard, and Jane is a sorcerer.”
“That’s some powerful party in front of my eyes!” Eddie smiles widely at Dustin, “I’m a dungeon master at Hellfire Club,” he stretches his shirt showing them the logo of the D&D club on his chest.
“When you get to high school, I’ll let my successors know that they might accept you all as our new companions in our wildest and dangerous campaigns,” he winks, bumping his fist on Dustin’s shoulder playfully, getting a wide smile from him and the others.
“It would be awesome!” Lucas exclaimed, “You’re cool, man!”
Mike groans in disapproval, jealous maybe, rolling his eyes, looking away, crossing his arms over his chest, defiant even.
The boys chat for a while. Eddie still has his arm over your shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb constantly, you doing idle patterns on his waist over his shirt with your thumb. Max and El approach you, and you are still pressing your head against Eddie's shoulder.
“New friend, sis?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows, insinuating, smirking, El giggling a little, hiding her mouth behind her hands.
You roll your eyes, smiling, punching Max’s shoulder playfully, “Yeah, new friend,” you emphasize, “like you with these guys,” you point with your chin, then she looks up at Eddie, seeing him all excited, talking about D&D with the kids, even Mike is engaging now.
You look at El and ask her, “Is El a nickname?”
She chuckles, “Kinda, I had a dream once about being a superhero with powers, I had a tattoo on my arm that was 011, and my name was Eleven there. I told the boys this at the time, and Dustin said something about parallel universes. He started calling me that after, but my real name is Jane.”
“Oh, that’s really nice! What a creative mind of yours, huh?” you chuckle, getting a chuckle back from Jane.
“Huh,” you start, your smile fading a little, looking at the girls, mostly to Max, rubbing your hands together to ease yourself, snuggling against Eddie, looking for a safe place.
“Eddie helped me with Billy earlier.” You roll your eyes, remembering, a little annoyed.
“What did he do this time?” Max asks, annoyed as well.
“Was provoking a guy from our grade in a basketball match at PE, stupid stuff,” you shake your head in disapproval, tensing your shoulders, “new place, new hierarchy… You know how he is.”
Eddie notices your body tensing, he brings his hand to your hair, rubbing your scalp, making you close your eyes, and melting under his touch, relaxing a little.
Max observes that you seem to calm down around Eddie, happy that you found someone who can bring you peace in the turbulent life your family has.
You catch Max looking at you when you open your eyes, holding each other's gaze, exchanging thoughts and empathy about your brother and the life you live beyond him.
“Yeah, but I’m… I'm afraid he will end up like Neil in the future if he continues to be like that,” Max bounces on her toes, back and forth slowly, looking away, crossing her arms around herself.
You open your free arm towards Max, pulling her into a hug, your temples touching, Eddie's hand sliding down to your shoulder again. “I doubt it, sweetie. He has us, and now that we are studying at the same school, things can and will be different.”
Max nods after a while, lost in her thoughts. You hug her tighter, with your chin at the top of her head, looking at Jane, smiling softly at the little girl, your lips pressed together.
Then you look over Jane, your gaze landing at the front door of the school, and there is the quartet again, walking to the parking lot beside the building.
Jonathan and Nancy are walking arm in arm, and Steve has his arm over Robin’s shoulder. They are all chatting, smiling at each other; they really seem so close.
Steve looks over his shoulder for a second; his face twists in confusion, so he looks over again, bringing the person who just exited the school into focus.
Billy Hargrove just left the school, and his eyes crossed to Steve’s when he turned his head to look at both sides. Steve continues to walk forward, but his body tenses as he analyzes what the new student can do next.
Billy smirks, lifting his chin up, opening his mouth to say something, probably a tease, when he hears a long, strong whistle, changing his focus to the source of it.
He finds you looking at him from across the school entrance, your fingers still between your lips from the whistle. He looks from you to Steve, then to you again, holding your gaze for a couple of seconds, then looks at Steve one last time while heading to his car, towards you.
Steve watches Billy as he walks away, then fixates his gaze on you.
You hold Steve's gaze back, firm, straightening your posture; it even seems like you hold Max closer to your chest, as if you are protecting her from something.
Then Steve notices that there are other people with you: the party and Eddie Munson, all of them looking to the quartet. Steve waves at Dustin and Jane shortly, smiling briefly, receiving a toothless smile from him and a shiny one from her.
The party says their farewells to the people at the car when Billy arrives, sprinting in the quartet's direction, ready to get themselves home.
When the kids sprint towards the teens, Steve looks up at you again, and sees Eddie holding you by you shoulders, then he turns his attention to Billy again, holds his gaze for a while until the kids approach the quartet, chatting excitedly about their new friend, Max Mayfield, and being greeted by the older teens with a wide smile from each, while they walk to their cars and bikes, Steve throwing his arm over Jane's shoulders.
You look at the bigger group now. Steve doesn’t look like a complete asshole, does he? You shake your head, focusing on your brother now.
“Let’s go? This day was long enough already,” you ask, firmly looking at Billy, rubbing Max’s arm, leaning to Eddie again, with him rubbing your shoulder.
Billy chuckles, shaking his head. “Made new friends, kiddo?” ignoring you and looking at Max. She nods, looking at the group afar as they go away.
“They are nice, Jane mostly,” she smiles weakly, watching them go. You smile at her, kissing the top of her head.
“Seems like you’re the only one who didn’t make friends today, huh?” You say, teasing Billy, but also rebuking him.
“Of course not, sweetie, Harrington and I are buddies, didn’t you see at the gym earlier?” he smirks, proudly, puffing his chest.
You snort, rolling your eyes, releasing Max from your arms, getting out of the car, and getting on your feet, turning to Eddie and hugging him by his waist, murmuring to him, “Thank you, milord, see you tomorrow?” you pulls back to look up at him, smiling a little, embarrassed from all the things he went through with you on your first day.
“Of course, milady. As I said, I'm your servant-friend now,” he smiles tenderly at you, his hands on your shoulder blade. You chuckle at him, squeezing his waist quickly, then releasing from his arms, grabbing Max's hand, and heading to the passenger and back seats.
Billy salutes Eddie, goes to the driver's seat, opens the car door, and you girls get in. Billy reverses, turning his body to look through the window at the back of the car. Eddie watches you pulling away until he loses sight of them.
He chuckles to himself, heading to his van, shaking his head. “This is quite a newsworthy family, I can say at least.”
Note: Hey! As complicated as I know it would be, I'm doing my best to have the characters interact with as many other characters as possible. This requires a lot of energy, but I'll try my best here haha a lot of people here to do a headcannon. And done, first day at school is finished. Eddie being the emotional support means a lot to me; he is someone I would love to have in my life.
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Summary: New relationships of all kinds, bonds, and rivalries are being built, and impressions are being made.
Word count: 2k
Note: Hey! I really liked writing this chapter; a lot of relationships are being molded here, just like in the next chapter. Hope you like it!
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The first part of the day went really well. Your whole schedule matched with Eddie’s perfectly, so now it seems like you have a new friend, an eccentric and interesting one, you might add. And, as expected, you were invited to sit with him at his table, the Hellfire table, as he had stated before.
You entered the cafeteria together, he talking about the D&D campaign he is mastering, inviting you to watch a gathering while this one doesn’t end yet someday, even though you are already invited to the next campaign, of course.
The cafeteria is full, so you grab your tray and slide through the buffet. You look around as you follow Eddie, searching for Max and Billy.
You find your sister with five kids. She is quiet, but nods and smiles at them, sitting beside a sweet girl with short brown hair. You find Billy as well, and he is surrounded by some girls, giggling at him, with him sitting at the table and his feet on the bench, and, as usual, he seems really comfortable with all the attention.
You arrive at the D&D table, Eddie cleaning his throat theatrically, calling everyone's attention. “Comarads, I’m pleased to present you our newest companion, milady Mayfield, from the lands of California”, Eddie introduces you, bowing again at your direction, holding your gaze, smiling widely. “Welcome to Hellfire Club, sweetheart,” he winks to you.
You smile at him shyly, blushing a little, and curtsy toward him. You feel a warm feeling on your chest from this tender, welcoming introduction.
You look at the guys on the table, all looking at you a little shyly as well, waving at you. You wave back, a little embarrassed too, and sit at the end of the table. Eddie sits by your side, introducing everyone to you, making sure you feel comfortable, and while lunchtime flies by, everyone grows comfortable with each other.
While eating, you look around at the cafeteria again, and your eyes land on that group of four teens you and your siblings encountered earlier. One of the guys with a bowl cut has a camera on hand, taking photos of the group, mostly of a girl with short, curly brown hair beside him, who seems to be his girlfriend, since they seem really close.
The other girl, with straight, short dark blonde hair, is laughing with the guy Billy stared at earlier; they are having a lot of fun together, laughing from something the girl said, his hand on his stomach, eyes shut from the laughter, the girl talking with her hands, laughing along while still mumbling about something.
However, between these two, the energy is different, friendly. All four seem really close to each other, and maybe even nice people. They laugh with each other too much not to be good people.
Eddie notices how quiet you are, like you are alert, scanning your surroundings, so he follows your gaze, landing on the quartet. “What are you looking at, milady?”
You shrug, still looking at the group. “At them. They were the first people I saw when I arrived with my siblings today.” You turn to Eddie, “We had class with some of them, right? With Jonathan Byers and Robin Buckley, if I recall correctly?” You turn to the quartet again.
“Yep. Do you know the other two?” he asks, receiving a deny from you, shaking your head, “They are Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington, or King Steve.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes, mockering the royalty nickname.
You look at Eddie again, confused. “King Steve? He is like royalty or something?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Not like you, milady,” he nudges your shoulder, winking at you, making you laugh. “He is the king of the ladies. Look how there are always some girls orbiting him, trying to get his attention,” he points with his chin.
So you pay attention, following his pointing, and indeed, there are girls close around him, but he looks so oblivious to them, or at least uninterested. Then you look to Billy, who is also getting attention from some girls.
“Seems like my brother came here to steal his throne”, you chuckle weakly, taking a bite of her lunch.
Eddie follows your gaze, finding Billy. “I’m not sure about that. Steve is… retired now? And he has a solid reputation, if we can say that”, he shrugs, finishing his lunch. “Dunno if your brother will beat him that easy”.
Before you could say something, the bell rang.
Next class is PE, so you and your new friends get up, you and Eddie head to the gym, while the others go in different directions. You bump into Billy, his arm around your shoulder, kissing her temple.
“Hey, sis, became friends with the freak, huh?” he teases, looking at Eddie, wiggling his eyebrows. You elbow him in the ribs, making Billy groan in pain, letting go of your shoulder, bending over a little, a hand pressing his hurt ribs.
“Don’t you fucking dare act like an asshole with my friends, William.” You turn to him, firmly, holding his gaze, pointing a finger at his face.
He puts his hands up, showing he surrenders, his face twisting in pain, straightening up slowly. “Okay, okay, jeez,” he turns to Eddie, “sorry man,” he extends his hand to him, “I’m Billy, her brother.”
Eddie is surprised by the scene, in shock even, he takes a couple of seconds, but then extends his hand as well, shaking Billy’s, a little scared of the intensity of what just happened. “Eddie”
Billy grabs his hand, shaking it back. Then he lets it go, ruffling your hair, sprinting to the gym, leaving you two behind.
“Your brother seems to really like you”.
You two enter the gym and head to the bleachers. “Us three are really close. Guess he is just sweet with us and to the people I and Max care about”. You sit in the middle of it in the third row, seeing the guys warming up to play basketball, apparently.
“But he is so used to being an asshole that he forgets what really matters, sometimes”. You look around, scanning the people at the gym, alert again.
“He is like a bully or something?” asks Eddie, resting his forearms on his legs, bending over slightly.
“Not exactly, but he likes to be at the top, so he acts like an asshole to get there sometimes,” you lean back on the bleacher.
You find your brother warming up shirtless on one side of the court with other shirtless guys, while Steve Harrington, not shirtless, is on the other side with other guys who are not shirtless either. Both are wearing a captain’s armband on their arms. Great. They are both captains. You roll your eyes, looking at the ceiling. This game will be energetic.
The game starts, and you and Eddie chat as it happens. You like sports, so you pay attention to the game as well and notice the tension building up between Billy and Steve throughout the match, mainly because Billy started it.
Billy bumps into Steve frequently and shoulders him as well. Steve seems to be handling it calmly, but, notably, his jaw clenches now and then, his body tensing and paying close attention to the other captain's behavior.
It was all manageable until Billy jumped to shoot and knocked Steve down intentionally. Steve gets up right away, pushing Billy away.
“Fuck off, man! You just got here today and are acting like a complete dick!” Steve shouts to him, panting at the effort from the match. He is not exactly angry, more like tired of his attitude, rubbing the dirt off his hands on his shirt.
Billy laughs sarcastically, shaking his head, stepping closer, lifting his chin up, challenging. “I thought King Steve could handle some sports rivalry”.
“I’m the fucking captain of this fucking team. I tolerate rivalry, but not assholeness,” he says firmly, voice one tone lower, stepping closer, chest to chest now.
They stay silent for a while, Billy smiling, challenging, mocking, until he pushes Steve, making him fall to the ground again, Billy laughing out loud. Steve gets up in a second, heading towards Billy.
When they were still chest to chest, without realizing what you were doing, more like an instinct than anything, you got down the bleachers, heading to your brother. You sprint at him just in time to get between them and pull Billy away by his chest towards the locker room, while he laughs mockingly at Steve.
“Watch out, new girl, to not be punched by this shithead!” Steve shouts at you while some team players hold him back, fighting to get rid of them.
“Don’t say things you don’t know about, duchbag!” you shout back at Steve over your shoulder, entering the locker room, pulling Billy with you. You didn't notice, but Eddie was right at your side, pulling your brother as well. Your vision is all blurry, her ears ringing from the adrenaline.
“What the fucking hell was that, William?” you shout at Billy’s face, furious, shaking. Eddie is a little behind you, rubbing his arm, crossing it at his chest, alert but also uncomfortable with the situation, but loyal at your side.
Billy takes a step back from the sudden burst from you, his smile fading a little. “Oh, c’mon, sis, it was just a fairplay move. Can’t do anything if the King of Hawkins High gets on his nerves so easily,” he smiles sarcastically, spitting the nickname bitterly from his lips.
“It’s our first day, William, for God's sake, and you are already fighting for this popularity bullshit again?” You chuckle in disbelief, shaking your head, your chest rising up and down for rapid breaths, pressing a hand on your forehead, looking away from him, then turning your eyes back at him.
He just looks at you, his chin lifting up a little, his chest doing the same from the adrenaline and the end of the match.
You both know why he does that; it's unconscious, but you both know.
You just shake your head in disapproval, turning on your heels, passing through Eddie and exiting the locker room, leaving both behind.
When you are at the basketball court again, you see Steve in the lower row of the bleachers, drinking water from a bottle and leaning back. You head towards him, furious, your heart racing, pounding in your chest, your breath uneven. You hear the locker room door opening behind you; you don’t bother to see if it's Eddie or Billy.
You get to Steve, looking him down, your nostrils wide, your eyebrows furrowing, threatening. Steve looks up at you, straightening his posture.
“Don’t you dare say shit about my brother ever again, Harrington, or it will not be him who will pull you to the ground again”. You say firmly, your voice low, steady.
Steve holds your gaze, chuckling mockingly at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “You think I’m afraid of you, Hargrove?”, he says, the last name bitterly.
You take a step closer, bending over and closer so you can meet his eyes eye-to-eye. “First of all, I’m a Mayfield, shithead. And secondly, say shit about my brother again so you can see what I can do to this pretty face of yours”.
He studies your face, searching for any sign of a bluff. But he finds nothing. He chuckles again, disbelieving of this whole attitude.
“Loyalty to an asshole like him will bring you down with him, Mayfield”. He says bitterly, but also in a warning tone.
You hold his gaze for a while, then straighten up and head to the exit of the gym. You feel someone on your side; you turn and see Eddie, again loyal at your side. You turn ahead again, walking towards your next class.
“You didn't need to push Billy away, too, you know, right?”
“Yeah, but I wanted to,” He answers, firm, reassuring to you, looking at your profile.
You turn your head to look at him, holding his gaze for a while, studying his face, looking for a lie.
You find nothing.
You nod thankfully, turning your head ahead again, walking to your next class.
Note: Hey! Yeah, their scene playing basketball is rent-free in my mind. I always see Eddie as a super loyal friend, so writing this chapter really warmed my heart. The day will finish in the next chapter as well.
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Summary: The first day at school comes, and some encounters as well, with new people entering your new life.
Word count: 1.2k
Note: Hey! I searched a lot of 80s references to put in this story, but since I'm from the late 90s, it will probably not be so accurate, but I tried my best to be haha
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Tuesday, October 16th, 1984
The next day comes, and with that a new school, a new routine, and maybe new friends.
You three leave for school in Billy’s blue Camaro. The drive is silent, in expectation of this new reality, with Bon Jovi's song, 'She Don't Know Me', playing on the radio. You and Max look through the car window, viewing the landscape of Hawkins, its darkness and mystery, even in daylight, shaking their heads at the rhythm of the song.
Billy drives with his window down, one hand on the wheel and the other at the window edge, tapping his fingers out by the song, lip synching to himself, you and Max bobbing your heads to the beat of the song.
“What more can I do?
There's nothing I haven't tried
Still it's so hard for her to notice
But I've tried hard to be straight
There's nothing left I can say
If only she would look my way.”
When you get to school, since Billy likes to show off to the audience, he enters the parking lot at high speed, parking in an empty spot in the middle of the parking area, doing a drift to get to the spot. Both you and Max roll your eyes at him, and both exit his car the instant he turns the engine off, a wide smirk on his lips.
The parking lot is full of students getting ready for their school day, and, because of the show, you caught some big attention. Heads are turned, whispers fill the air, and of course, some eyes stare at you for a while longer.
You get out of the car, shut your door, look around, scanning faces, looking at the curious gaze in their eyes. In a car parked right beside you, there is a group of teens around your age, looking at you and Max, until Billy jumps out of his car as well, turning around to get to your side, holding the teens' gaze.
“Like what you see?” he asks, provoking, threatening even, putting an arm around your shoulder, protective.
In this group, there are two boys and two girls, and three of them look away, but one holds Billy’s gaze. The guy is leaning back in the car, arms crossed over his chest, his face stoic but firm.
They exchange a look for a couple of seconds, until you sigh irritatedly, rolling your eyes, getting rid of Billy’s arm, and pulling Max to school, holding her under your arm. You glance at the teens one last time as you head with Max to school, and you notice the guy is looking at you now.
He is around Billy’s height, 1.80m (5’11”), probably. Has brown, stylish hair and hazel eyes. You hold his gaze for a second longer, trying to get his vibe as you walk with Max, then turn your attention ahead, breaking eye contact.
Billy follows the girls after a while. He is all charm as always, winking at the ladies, chewing an endless gum he doesn't even have in his mouth. He was always this kind of guy when they lived in California, so it was expected to be like this now that they are in Indiana, and well, it's working like back there so far.
You kiss Max on top of her head when they get in front of the school, hugging her, then pull back just to look into her eyes. “Have a good first day, sweetie. If you don’t have a table to sit until lunch, come sit with me, okay?”
Max nods, giving a quick hug back. “Okay, okay, I’ll go find my locker, see you later, losers,” she shouts, already leaving you and Billy behind, with her skateboard in one hand and her schedule in the other.
You laugh, rolling your eyes as you watch Max go, then turn to Billy. “See you after school, bro. I’ll go find my locker as well.” You hug him aside and then notice some girls looking at him. You laugh, shaking your head, looking up at him. “Guess you’re already famous, huh?”
He looks around, smirking, chewing the invisible gum, proud of himself. He kisses the top of your head and goes to his locker, whatever it is. Then, with the schedule in hand, you follow the instructions to get to your own.
After 15 minutes searching for it, you find it. Your locker is beside some metalhead’s one. You nod at him in greeting, pressing your lips together, turning your attention to your locker, then opening it and organizing your textbooks and notebooks inside.
“Well, well, well, it seems like we have a new mademoiselle in Hawkins lands, don’t we?” the guy exclaims while leaning on his side at his probably locker, looking you up and down, with a playful and theatrical tone, smirking widely.
You look at him, an eyebrow raised, amused by his tone. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And it seems like we have a drama metalhead boy at these lands”, you tease him, laughing while shaking your head, focusing on your locker again.
The guy laughs loudly, throwing his head back, then looking back at you, smile wide, amused, eyes sparkling. “And she is funny as well”. He looks at you for a second longer, extending his hand to you. “Lord Edward Munson, Dungeon & Dragons master, metalhead guitarman. At your service, milady.”
You turn your head to him, smiling widely, partially in disbelief and partly in amusement. You extend your hand to him, shaking his hand. “Lady Mayfield, amateur photographer, guitar enthusiast, apprentice of manual activities, bookworm.”
When he holds your hand, he brings it to his lips, kissing its back while holding your gaze. You laugh loudly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“So charming of you, Edward Munson.” You let go of him, finishing to organize your locker, hanging your bag over your shoulders.
“Eddie, milady, please. I’m your servant now”. He says, smiling widely.
“Eddie will be then, milord Eddie,” You correct yourself, laughing. “And please, I prefer a friend to a servant.” You shut the locker and walk to your first class: Math.
He reaches your steps, gets to your side, and walks alongside you. “Servant, friend, slave. Since I can get your attention, milady, I’ll perform any role you want me to perform.”
You roll your eyes, laughing, “This is how you greet new students?”
He leans closer to you, in a whispery conspiracy tone, “Only the pretty ones.” he winks at you.
You laugh out loud, throwing your head back. “You’re not supposed to go to your class, milord Munson?”
He peeks at your schedule over your shoulder, and his smile widens even more. “Coincidentally, milady, our Tuesday schedule is the same.”
“Of course it is,” you laugh, shaking your head, getting to your class, and before you could do anything, he opened the door for you.
“Ladies first,” he winks at you, while excessively bowing down.
You smile widely, shaking your head in disbelief, and enter the class, followed by Eddie. You sit at a desk, and he sits at the one in front of you. They talk about their mutual interest in guitar, and he offered some lessons; you offered to photograph some of the small concerts his band sometimes holds.
When the teacher enters the class, Eddie looks over his shoulder to the front, then back to you, puts a finger to his lips, playfully making you shush, and then smiles widely at you, his eyes mischievous, as he spins in his chair to face the board.
Note: Hey! In my head, Billy would love Bon Jovi. The theatricality in Eddie always caught my attention, and I'll do my best to bring it here. This day will have 3 chapters.
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