“It’s the way you feel when you step onto that field that let’s you know you couldn’t live without this sport.”
Teaser Tag: @trashmouth-hargrove, @lostnoise, @stevefuckingharrington, @greyspilot, @harringrovetrashh, @myboyfriendsteve, @awickedplacethisis, @gideongrace, @strangergrove, @negativenuggetz, @ihateitheredude, @bakausagiwithwings, @hartigays, @saltstuck, @officialsteveharrington, @billysdanglyearring, @memes-saved-me, @razbey, @pretty-bratty, @big--yikes, @supermegapauselouca, @thinger-strang, @steve-bambi, @harrington-ofhawkins, @introvertia, @lovebillyhargrove, @wingedbears, @jxnehxpper, @withoutmonsters, @geraltxfrivia, @harringrovewhorexx, @harringrovisms, @panikyu, @tracy7307, @mossybits, @thesecondbraincell, @baconspice, @steve-dingus, @helloharringrove, @pansexualgrapes, @amidstardust, @spaceighties
These are the tags for now; I can add or remove you! <3
(Also a humongous thank you to @stevefuckingharrington for helping me with this!! <3)
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“You boys are in for a world of hurt! These next few weeks are to weed out the weak, get rid of those who don’t have what it takes to stay on top.” Coach Embers barked, strolling in front of the large crowd of possible players. Possible competition. This was it. This was his time. “And if you think there will be a single moment when you can rest? Think again, son. Now, the lot of you think you’re gonna be some big hotshot and be able to wiggle your way through and keep up with the big dogs! Well, newsflash boys, no measly little worm is going to maneuver their way through this and be alive afterward!” Coach shouted and the field-house was more silent, far more tense than before. Billy glanced around him; the possible players were already breathing hard and slick with sweat from the adrenaline caused by Coach Embers’ speech. Billy knew they all had the same thought. How can I be better?
“Let’s go, ladies! I’m not getting any damn younger here!” Assistant Coach Anderson shouted, everyone rose from their kneeling position on the sidelines, leaving their helmets as they run onto the dew-filled field. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, early morning heat already settling over the boys as they hustled out to the center. The thick water splattered onto their shins, melting down as they moved around the yard lines, moving to get into their positions.
“Alright,” Coach Embers moved to the front, his whistle slinging from side to side, seeming to try and trap the players into a trance. “We’ll start with a mile for warm-ups than we’ll work on passing technique.” He waved for them to go, to start. Billy frowned, shouldn’t have coach blew his whistle? His gaze shifted towards a few of the boys glancing around, they shifted their weight between their legs; antsy. They were showing weakness. Billy found himself smirking, this is going to be too easy.
“Well?” Coach Anderson shouted, stepping forward as Coach Embers snorted. “Get moving, this shit is timed, fellas!” He shouted again as the team turned on their heels and began to jog. Some rushed ahead, slamming their shoulders into each other and laughing. Billy scoffed, they were wasting energy. He ran his tongue against the back of his teeth, flicking it against the bones in concentration. He felt a heavyweight shove into his side.
“Damn, Hargrove, getting lost in that head of yours, huh?” Tommy said with a loud, obnoxious laugh. Billy rolled his eyes, keeping a steady pace as they turned, following the chain link fence. “You’re way too focused on this.”
“And you’re not focused enough, Hagan,” Billy said through gritted teeth. He frowned as the freckled boy kept pace with him, causing Bill to huff. Great.
“Woo, Hargrove’s getting a little snippy! What is that the bitch in you coming out?” Hagan cackled, as he picked up the pace, shoving past a few of the other players as Billy growled.
“Hagan! You’re fucking dead!” Billy shouted after the boy bounding away, he broke into a sprint ducking and weaving between the other boys. Billy growled as his feet thundered against the field, splattering the wet dew up and around him. Hagan was close. He could grab him and easily wring his damn neck. Grounding his molars, he reached out, his fingertips just barely… Catching… Tommy’s sweat-soaked shirt.
“Hagan-” Billy stumbled, tripping and colliding with another warm body. A strangled groan came from the body underneath him. “Fucking ow.” Billy groaned, looking over his shoulder to see some of the other boys running by, snickering as Tommy stood there, an apologetic smile already on his lips. “Asshole.” Billy sneered, caressing his throbbing temple.
“Ha, if anyone here is an asshole, it’d be you, buddy-” the body under Billy spoke, making Billy scoff as he rubbed at his head, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, shut it! It’s your fault for-”
“Walking on a sidewalk? Oh, yes, please sue me!” The guy whined as Billy snarled. Then the voice registered and Billy’s head snapped up, his eyes going wide. This… Guy. A dull yellow beanie doing nothing to capture the thick, brown waves of hair. Bright, large brown eyes narrowed towards him, making his throat tighten and Billy’s mouth dry. Steve. Fucking. Harrington.
“Billy Hargrove?! Are you fucking kidding me?!” Steve growled. He scrambled up and away from Billy, the cement digging into his scraped palms. The girl behind Steve dropped the large box she was carrying to grab his elbow, helping him stand up. and holding him still. “What are you doing here!” Steve asked through clenched teeth. He yanked his away and winced as he tried to brush his stinging palms clean on his jeans. Turning back to the girl who looked unimpressed. “Why is he here?!”
“Jesus, calm down, Pretty boy, it’s been a while but you’re still the dramatic princess I remember.” Billy rolled his eyes, pushing himself off of the ground. “And hey, jackass, it’s a public college! Y’know what a public college is, right?” Billy huffed, as he dusted himself off, cross his arms over his chest.
“Of course I do, I’m not stupid, by why here?! Why not go back to… to California?!” Steve challenged, stepping towards Billy. Billy stepped closer, accepting Steve’s challenge. He set his jaw, clicking his tongue.
“Because Princess, I ain’t got the money right now. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, I’ll be out of your,” Billy paused, reaching up and plucking the beanie off of Steve’s head, ruffling his hand through Steve’s thick and surprisingly soft hair. Billy took a beat to recover from the shock of how nice Steve’s soft hair felt against his rough palm “hair in a few years.” Steven knocked Billy’s hand away.
“Fuck. Off.” Steve bit out. Frustration evident in the angry red blush on his cheeks. Billy leaned back, studying the boy he thought he had left behind in Hawkins, Indiana. The boy whose brown eyes were never far too far from his thoughts.
“Strong language to come from someone so pretty-”
“Alright, we get it, Hargrove. You think Dingus here is gorgeous,” the girl said. As she picked up the box while Steve crouched down to pick up a few items that had fallen from his box when Billy had crashed into him. “Now, how about you go back to passing a pigskin between all of your sweaty ass teammates and let us finish getting him moved in, yeah?” She nodded once, smirking, as she began to walk away, not even bothering to see if he was following. Steve turned to follow her.
“You always such a good bitch, pretty boy?” Billy said, flicking the tip of his tongue between his lips, licking at his chapped lips. Even with the annoyance that followed Steve. Steve pursed his lips with a huff, as he fixed his grip on the cardboard box.
“Why don’t you just go toss some balls, Hargrove?” He snorted, walking away with the sway of his hip, his shoulders sliding side-to-side. The thick curls that had escaped from the yellow wool cage, dragging and just barely scrapping against Steve’s shoulders. Billy glanced to the soft beanie in his head, clenching it gently as he tried to glare at it, however, he just found himself staring at it with adoration.
“Hargrove! Come on, we’re still getting timed and shit!” Tommy shouted from the opened gate, waiting there as Billy blinked, turning his head towards him and rolling his eyes. Stuffing the beanie into his pocket, Billy jogged towards the gate, daring himself to not look back. Not look back at the past he left behind. Just don’t look back…
“Billy, what’s up man? You look like you saw a ghost.” He questioned as they began to jog back towards the team. Tommy knew. He knew exactly what happened while he stood behind the gate, watching the practice while Billy dealt with Harrington. Both of the coach’s voices filtering through the thick air as the two came to a slow walk towards the end, watching as a few groups split around the field, some practicing with throwing techniques, some running once again, and some heading in for the bench presses.
“Uh, no, no, I just… I think I slammed my head into Harrington’s.” He mumbled, fiddling with his ponytail, tugging at a few strands and biting his lip hard. “I’m heading to the locker room.”
“Are you cool? Like, does your head hurt or anything?” Tommy asked, stepping towards him before Billy leaned back, shooting Tommy a weak smirk.
“I’m good. I’m good, just… I’ll see you later, alright?” Billy waved him off, jogging towards the locker room, feeling his heart pound in his ears. Thoughts, memories, stupid… Ideas rushed through his head as he shoved open the steel door. He stopped in front of the sink, pressing himself against the porcelain, his nails trying to dig into it like a chunk of flesh - a chunk of meat.
“What the hell is wrong with you?! You see him one time - one goddamn time - and you’re losing yourself all over again? Pull it together, Hargrove.” He hissed, clenching his teeth together as his eyes filtered across his face; the red blush from his run and run-in settled over his shoulders and face, the slight blood gathered on his bottom lip, the few scars for his memory of Hawkins printed permanently on his tan flesh. Shoving himself back, huffing with the roll of his eyes.
“Pull it together. Pull it together and realize this is your time! This is your time and you’re going to work your ass off and you’re going to get into the NFL and… And…” Billy’s voice died down as the door shot open, the loud rumble of the other’s laughs and chats ringing in his ears as he inhaled deeply, sighing before pushing off the sink again, and walking back towards the exit onto the field. Practice. Just worry about practice. Just… Pull it together, Hargrove. Only, what? Three-and-a-half more years… Well, it’s not likely that he will run into Harrington again. What are the odds?
