Summary: It was never as simple as worrying about meeting his parents or tuition, there was always something else. When Neil offers you a bribe, you have to make a decision about your life now, and what your future looks like. (Part 1)
Pairing: Billy/Reader
Warnings: Mentions of abuse
Notes: So I was inspired by Don’t Take the Money By Bleachers. There will be a second part to this, it’s nearly done. Not my first fic, but my first Stranger Things Fic (Billy is a racist asshole and my writing is not agreeing with it whatsoever, just fiction)
He loved your hands, they weren’t perfectly slim, elegant, piano player’s hands. Although you did play piano, your left pinky was crooked from your sister slamming it in a car door when you were 6. The side of your right hand was often covered in the shiny grey of led since you never stopped writing. You’d filled a countless amount of notebooks and always had one tucked in your backpack. You rarely let him get a peek inside, but there were times when you had left it unattended and he’d flip through a couple pages. You always caught him and slipped it from his grasp, pouting for the next few hours. Your fingernails were permanently painted, not once had he seen you without a colour tipping your fingers. Sure you chipped them, sometimes scraping at the lacquer as a nervous habit, but the next day he could always count on a fresh colour.
Your left hand was currently grasped in his right, the stark white nail polish contrasting to his tan skin. There were scratches on your thumb nail, a sure way to gauge your stress level. Every second word and thought was of the tuition you were set to pay. The deadline sneaking closer, the scholarships had been applied to and now they were just pending.
“I could just work at the theater for a year, it would be enough to get me started. And plenty of people take a year off-“
“Sweetheart, stop worrying.” He interrupted.
“You’re smart, the scholarships will come and then we can get away from this place,” He continued “Besides, shouldn’t you be more worried about your first dinner with my dad and Susan?” He questioned, a half smirk pulled at his lips. Despite the easy smile you could tell he was as nervous as you should’ve been. But the looming future had been taking front and center in your mind. You had dressed nicely for the occasion, and were stressing about making a good impression. You also knew that Billy and his dad weren’t exactly close, he had said those exact words. You suspected that Neil had a temper, however, you didn’t know how far that temper extended.
He pulled up into the driveway of a nondescript white house. It wasn’t necessarily run down, just unkempt, as if the family residing in it didn’t care enough to maintain it. Which was the opposite of Billy’s entire personality, with his mullet styled just so, his shirt always unbuttoned with just the right amount of chest showing. His blue Camaro didn’t look like it belonged in the driveway. You came around the side of the car and grabbed his hand again, if this night went like he predicted, he’d need all the support you could offer.
Susan was the first to greet you as you walked into the house, she had kind eyes and a kinder smile. Although her shoulders were tense and her smile just a little bit forced.
Billy had told you a week ago that ever since Neil learned about you, accidentally that is, he’d insisted upon meeting you. He’d told you that he and Neil were fighting, about what he didn’t say, but somehow, in the heat of the moment, he’d shouted at his father that he had a girlfriend, a steady girlfriend. The day after the fight Billy had come to pick you up for school and started apologizing before you got your seatbelt on. It hadn’t occurred to you why he was apologizing, you were fine with meeting his dad and Susan.
As they stepped further into the house, a gruff voice came from the sofa in front of the tv.
“I thought you were just imagining her, son.” A slight chuckle sounding at the end. Neil got up from the couch, slowly approaching the couple, Billy’s hand had slipped from yours the moment Neil opened his mouth. Neil extended his hand to clap Billy on the shoulder.
“She looks like a nice girl, I don’t know how you swung that.” He said, with a smile on his face. Billy was so tense beside her, Neil’s hand on his shoulder making him seize up. He didn’t say anything in response to the slight against him. Neil’s gaze bore into you, something about him made you nervous, swallowing your nerves you stuck your hand out.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Hargrove.” He took your extended hand in a firm grip.
Instead of a normal reply he said, “What’s a nice girl like you doing with a guy like my son?”
The smile on his face was not one of friendliness. You were saved from answering when a girl strode into the room, she flicked her red hair, that matched Susan’s, over her shoulder, eyes assessing the new person in the room. Susan gently nudged her, grudgingly she gave a little wave.
“I’m Max.” she mumbled
“This is my daughter Maxine.” Susan corrected.
“Nice to meet you Max.” You replied supplying your name with a wave in response. They all eventually drifted to the dining table, the silence filed by Susan’s idle chatter.
Dinner was filled with stunted small talk, Billy never seemed to relax from his tense state a fact which everyone but the girl at his side failed to notice. Or purposefully chose to ignore, you couldn’t tell. Susan and Neil asked the usual questions, what are you doing after high school? What university are you going to? What program are you taking? And you filled in the gaps, talking about the writing program you were so excited about at NYU, sharing a little bit of your worry over the scholarships you’d applied to and the tuition owed. When dinner ended, you could tell Billy was anxious to get out of the house, he couldn’t seem to hold his hands still and his eyes looked anywhere other than Neil. By the time you and Billy had helped clean up with Susan, he practically dragged you out of the house and into his Camaro.
They sped down back streets, eventually pulling off into what felt like the middle of nowhere, just some random farmers field lined in trees. The sun was just setting, it’s golden rays mingling with the clouds, setting them off in hues of red and orange. It had yet to sink under the trees bordering the property, just hanging there, suspended by gold.
Billy got out of his car, prompting you to sit on the hood with him, leaning into each other, his now steady hand in yours. You sat in silence for a while, watching the sun sink with agonizing slowness. As it started to dip beneath the trees, its rays fractured between the gaps, lighting up patches of the farmland before them. You extended your hands then, as if to cup the sunlight creeping towards you. He gazed at you when the sun coloured your face and hands. As the golden hues lit up your face you smiled like he’d never seen, your eyes sparkled in the glowing light. He felt the air leave his lungs, stolen by your pure delight. He understood now, how people could fall in love at the drop of a hat. He’d been cynical before, scoffed at the idea that a person like him could fall for someone so easily.
“Billy?” you said, your voice almost timid. Your sparkling eyes peered at his face, assessing the expression you saw there. He brought his hand up to your cheek, feeling the warmth the sun left.
“Wha-” He brought you in for a soft kiss, interrupting whatever you were going to ask. Normally Billy was a little bit rough, nipping at your lips or leaving hickeys around your collarbone. But this, this was something else. He broke away and leaned his forehead against yours.
“He’s right you know.” He said, voice quite. He could feel your forehead crease in confusion.
“My dad was right, I don’t know how I got you.” You jerked back from him, staring him right in the eyes. It was your turn now, to put your hands on his face. Rubbing your thumb along his cheek bone you said, in an equally quite voice;
“Don’t you ever think that, Billy” saying his name to force eye contact.
“You’re worthy of whatever you want, you’re not perfect and I’m not either but it doesn’t make us any less deserving of good things.” Your tone was nearly begging.
“I hate that he makes you feel this way, I wish,” You paused, “I wish I could make it all go away.”
“You do.” His tone was choked, the words came out as barely a whisper.
“You make everything he says, does, seem like nothing, every time I feel heartless you pull me back.”
They shared many more soft kisses on the hood of his Camaro that night. He drove you home and quickly made up his mind that he didn’t want this cocoon of warmth to go away just yet, so as you went in the front door, he snuck through your bedroom window. They spent the night tangled in each other, your face against his chest, legs twined together.
Who asks the other on dates: Whilst they both do, Harrison does it more often. He’d also do it using magic (and his siblings would probably suggest dates for him). Who is the bigger cuddler: Harrison - Neil accepts it.Who initiates holding hands more often: Neil, probably. Who remembers anniversaries: Harrison has his siblings to remind him, but Neil remembers them more often.Who is more possessive: They’re probably equally possessive. Who gets more jealous: Probably Neil, but perhaps Harrison.Who is more protective: The same as the possessive one.Who is more likely to cheat: I don’t think either of them would to be honest.Who dislikes PDA the most: Neither. Who kills the spider: It’s most likely Neil, as Harriet and Harrison are both terrified of them. Who asks the the other to marry them: I can just imagine Harrison just pulling a box out of his hat, opening it to find the box empty and then doing that coin-behind-the-ear trick with the ring. Neil is both happy because of the proposal and pissed off because “Why must you use magic for EVERYTHING?”Who buys the other flowers or gifts: Harrison does, but he doesn’t buy them - no, he pulls them out of his hat. Who would bring up possibly having kids: Harriet would suggest it to Harrison for him and Neil, but Harrison wouldn’t bring it up to Neil because kids. Who is more nervous to meet the parents: Probably Harrison - he is too scared to even see his parents so Neil never meets them, but Neil’s parents want to meet him. Who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry: Harrison, because Neil is stubborn and won’t even let him in the room.Who tries to make up first after arguments: They’re both stubborn but if Harriet doesn’t convince Harrison to try, Neil will get tired of being angry.Who tells the other they love them more often: They probably have those sort of arguments that aren’t aggressive where they keep claiming they love the other more.
