He doesn’t care about country music, or fancy horse riding, or the beauty queens, even the bull riders.
What he does give a fuck about it not being in his house today.
Not when his dad was obviously itching to pick a fight. Not when Max gave him such an easy out over breakfast.
“I saw a flyer for a rodeo. I think it’d be kinda neat.”
It was in town for four more weeks.
And Billy could tell the second he and Max bought tickets, he was about to be spending more time than he ever fuckin’ thought he would spend at a rodeo.
He based that on the way Max’s eyes lit up the second she stepped inside the big fairgrounds.
Not knowing that he was right. He was about to spend a lot of time at the rodeo.
But not for Max.
For himself.
And a pretty horse rider named Steve.
He didn’t see Steve that first day.
Was too busy shelling out his own hard-earned cash to buy Max sugary funnel cakes. Sitting next to her watching the poor suckers get bucked off their pissed-off bull.
But when Max was in the car she turned to him, the sun setting outside, eyes as wide as dinner plates.
“Can we come back tomorrow?”
And the tickets were dirt cheap. And Billy hates being at home.
So they did.
And they watched the rodeo queens.
And the team-roping.
But it wasn’t until the calf roping that Billy felt his heart sink.
Because he thinks Steve Harrington might be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.
Tall and broad, smiling like sunshine at his gorgeous black quarter horse, patting her strong neck and leading her to the entry point of the arena.
His name was loudly announced after the event name.
Calf roping, with our very own Steve Harrington! Steve will navigate his beautiful June into the arena, trying to rope and tie down a calf as quickly as possible!
Billy had tuned out everything but his name.
Leaning forward on his bench seat to watch him lead June up to the starting line, give her a few more pats before swinging one leg up, heaving himself up and over her back, settling into the saddle with a grace Billy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe.
Steve appeared to shake himself out, leaning forward over June’s neck to speak quietly to the sleek horse, wiggling his hips a bit in the saddle.
And then he sat back up, readying himself and waiting for the countdown.
He was off like a fucking shot.
Billy’s never seen anything fucking like it.
June kicked up dirt as she thundered through the arena behind a small herd of a few calves, Steve ducked low against her neck as he led her forward, his lips moving as he spoke quietly to her, egging her on and forward. He was clinging to her for dear life, his legs straining as he was tossed up and down in the saddle.
And then he let go of her reins, one hand reaching for the rope on his belt.
And it was the most hick shit he’s ever seen.
This flannel-wearing cowboy on his perfect fucking horse, roping a baby fucking cow.
He slipped the knot around it from his perch on the moving horse, lassoing it easily like that was a common skill, and with a fluid practiced movement, he tossed himself off the slowing horse, getting on one knee to tip over the calf and tie it up like it was second nature.
And maybe it was. Performing in a show like this.
That’s all it was, a performance. Practiced and rehearsed over and over for Steve and June.
It was over in a blink, Steve tossing his hands up to show he was finished, and the calf didn’t break its bonds.
The whistle blew and Steve’s time was read to the arena. Nine seconds. And apparently, nine seconds was a good time, judging by the way Steve’s raised his fists in the air, and patted June’s neck so gently.
He mounted back on his gorgeous horse as the calf he had roped was released by a few of the rodeo workers and the next guy took his position at the starting line.
Steve did a lap around the arena of June’s back, smiling and waving to the crowd.
And maybe Billy just has an overactive imagination.
Maybe his stupid gay brain was looking for something not there.
But he could’ve sworn he saw Steve grin just a little bit brighter in his direction.
There were a few riders after him. Competing to earn a faster score on the same track.
But Billy didn’t give a fuck about calf roping if he wasn’t watching Steve and June.
The sun was setting as Billy finally led Max out of the fairgrounds, one hand on the top of her head, steering her towards the Camaro.
“So, you think we can come back next weekend” Max was giving him a big shit-eating grin, powdered sugar all done her front from the final funnel cake Billy had shelled out to buy her.
“Don’t see why not. Get’s us outta the fuckin’ house, don’t it.”
“Plus, there are lots of good-looking cowboys, just everywhere. Did you see the guy doing the cattle roping, or whatever? He was cute .” Billy rolled his eyes. Max was just touching the age when she stopped thinking of boys as gross, saw them as cute, and whatever else she said. It also made her realize that having a gay brother apparently meant talking about nothing but boys. It made Billy wanna slam his head into the steering wheel. He grunted in response as she kept going on and on about Steve.
Like Billy didn’t see the way his thighs gripped the sides of his horse, like he didn’t watch as he hurled himself off June to tie up the fucking calf. Like he didn’t watch him take that fucking victory lap, shit-eating grin looking like home on his pretty fucking face.
“You gotta carry your own weight, you know that, right Shitbird? I’m talking, pay for your own damn fried shit.” He bets Susan would give him money for tickets if he acts real nice this week.
He can’t blow all his savings at the fucking rodeo of all things this summer. He’s got plans for the wad of cash burning a hole in the shoebox in the back of his closet.
Max huffed at him.
“What am I supposed to do? Get a job? I’m thirteen .”
“So? Babysit or some shit. Rob an ATM. Fuck if I care. Just quit stealing all ‘a my goddamn cash for your fuckin’ funnel cakes .”
“You’re just pissed off because you didn’t try one. They’re the best. You gotta have one next week.”
“I, unlike you, care about what I put in my body.”
“Yeah, because cigarettes and beer are so much better than fried dough .”
“Whatever.” The truth is, Billy’s gotta watch what he eats. Max didn’t know him when he was prepubescent and chubby. He can’t be sitting there shoving funnel cakes in his mouth and not expect it to all go to his gut. Not like her. There’s not an ounce of fucking baby fat on her. She’s positively scrawny. If anything, the funnel cake might help her out a bit.
“Yeah, whatever .” She huffed, slumping back in her passenger seat. “But can we come back?”
“Fuck, if you keep askin’ me, the answer’s no .”
She huffed again. She does that a whole lot when they talk.
“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I saw the way you were watching Steve race. You were practically drooling .”
Billy clenched his jaw.
“Was not .”
“Was too .”
And Max had a knack of leading Billy into moments like this, childish little arguments that made him feel kinda weird inside. Made him feel kinda warm at how sibling it was. Like they hadn’t been forced together just a few years ago.
For all his bitching, he really did like the little spit. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger asshole than she’s always accusing him of being.
“You don’t even know what I look like when I’m really eyeing a boy, if you think that was it. Just, you know. Respected his riding.”
“ Respected his riding. Yeah ‘cause you wish he was riding-”
“Finish that sentence and I’m pushing you out of the fucking car.”
“I’m right, though.”
Billy just reached forward to turn up the radio, letting Dee Snider drown out any other awful shit Max wanted to say to him.
Which was probably showing his hand too much. No direct answer pretty much means affirmative when it comes to Billy. And yeah, Max knows that. Judging by the way she’s cackling like a goddamn gremlin over the sound of the music.
He just pressed his foot down further on the gas pedal, letting them fly down the highway.
And he thought about Steve and June, thought about how fast Steve could press that girl to go. Thought about him leaning forward, flattening himself to the horse’s neck, gripping onto the reins and urging her forward, urging her faster.
And if he thought about those strong legs wrapped around him, if he thought about what Max was about to say, Steve riding Billy like he would that fucking horse, his hips flexing as he bounces up and down, well, that’s his business.
And the next Saturday, Susan slid him a crisp twenty-dollar bill to buy Max some lunch at the rodeo.
They took it more seriously this time, bringing water bottles, and Max slathering thick white sunscreen on her freckled skin.
Billy even wore shorts, some old jeans he sacrificed to the summer gods when he wore holes in the thighs and chopped pretty much in half.
And it was kinda fun.
He knew what to expect now. Knew the barrel racing was all women, all beautiful horses winding their way along clover-shaped tracks. He knew that the bull riding was a little more fun to watch with a shot in him, and that his fake i.d. could get him an alcohol wristband from the tent at the front.
Max sneered at him when he bought himself a beer later in the day.
“Uh, you know you have to drive me home, right? Like, and not crash your stupid car on the way home.”
“Fuck off. It’s one beer.”
“And also that shot earlier, and I know you have a flask.”
“Okay, what are you, the cops? I’m just tryna enjoy myself in this blistering fucking heat. I don’t exactly get my rocks off to any of this shit.” Which is a lie. He’s totally sold on every stupid fucking event at the motherfucking rodeo.
“Fine. You wanna get stupid and drunk? Then you have to take me to the pageant. I wanna watch it.”
“Since fucking when do you give a shit about the pageant .” Max glared at him. Her nose was beginning to get red.
Maybe if Billy were less of a shithead he would tell her to put some sunscreen on. But she was really testing his patience today.
And then her eyes went huge, and her jaw went slack, and Billy was just about to tell her to close it and quit lookin’ like a dead fuckin’ fish when he heard someone cough slightly behind him.
And when he turned, he almost made the exact same stupid dead fish face as Max.
Because gorgeous cowboy Steve was standing right in front of him. In another cracker of a flannel shirt, stupid blue jeans, and fucking cowboy boots, because yeah. He’s a goddamn hick that rides a horse and ties up calves in a traveling rodeo for a fucking living.
And God save Billy, because hot damn.
Steve had an easy smile on his face, a little bit lopsided, and perfect white teeth showing between perfect pink lips.
“Hey there.”
“Howdy,” Billy responded before he could stop himself, his face burning up.
He was hoping he was already sweaty enough Steve wouldn’t notice the flush.
But thankfully, Steve’s smile went wider, and he laughed, this gorgeous bright laugh, his head tossing back, and that thick hair flowing easily.
He had gold streaks in his hair, lighter browns tussled within the darker colors. Billy wondered if they were natural, days spent out in the sun on his horse. Part of him hoped they weren’t. Part of him hoped that Steve was that intentional with himself and his goddamn hair.
He smiled at Billy.
“I’m Steve.”
“We saw you. Last weekend,” Max blurted out before Billy could kick her. She looked shocked that she had even spoken when Billy turned to give her a death glare. But Steve just laughed his gorgeous laugh again.
“And what’d you think?”
“She wouldn’t shut up about you on the way home.” And Steve was back to looking at Billy, and his eyes are so fucking big, like, who’s eyes are just. Like that. Just fuckin’. Big.
“And what about you, uh-”
“Billy. And this is Max. My sister.”
“Well, Billy,” and fuck Billy nearly creamed himself at the sound of Steve saying his name. “Did you like my display of talents ?”
“Could say so. I don’t give too many shits about all this hick farm stuff. But I can respect it.”
“Well, that’s alright then.” And Steve reached out to pat Billy once on the shoulder. “I hope I see y’all around. I gotta head off, June needs some TLC before our time.” He smiled at Max, and her already red face flushed deeper, almost blending into the roots of her flaming hair.
And then he doubled back.
“You know what, I forgot why I came over here in the first place.” He was digging through his jeans, rummaging around in his back pockets.
Billy wanted to slide his hands in there, cop a feel while he helped Steve look for whatever he was going to offer Billy.
And then Steve brought out two white wristbands.
“They’re for, uh, VIP seating and stuff. If you’re interested. Gets you closer to the arena. That way I can just see what you look like after I’m comin’ off a ride.”
Hoo boy.
This little cowboy has some fucking charm.
And he knows it too, judging by his smug little half-smile he gave Billy while he fastened the wristband around his wrist.
He helped Max with hers, doing it faster than he had Billy’s, and with a lot less eye contact, which was a good sign. He’s not perving on his twelve-year-old sister. Which is cool.
And then he was looking back at Billy, and brushing his long fingers over the tops of Billy’s shoulders, his arms out in his shirt, the arms torn off an old Aerosmith t-shirt he found at the Goodwill last year.
“You should reapply sunblock. Don’t want you burning now.” And Billy’s sure if Steve was wearing a Stetson, he woulda tipped it at them. “Enjoy the pageant.”
And he was off, and Christ, those jeans. How did Steve even successfully ride his horse in those things? They were so tight, showed off his nice peachy ass as he walked through the fairgrounds.
“Wow,” Max said. And yeah, Billy felt the same.
“In case it wasn’t clear, based on the way he was flirting with me, and also that he’s way too old for you, but, uh, dibs .”
“Billy, you can’t just call dibs on a person.” Billy just laughed.
He knows that his twelve-year-old fucking sister doesn’t have a shot in Hell with Steve. Really, he doubts he even has a shot in Hell with Steve, but he also likes to spend his time making her life as difficult as possible without actually being a shitty person. So, he just riles her up. Says shit that’ll get her going. He wouldn’t be doing his brotherly duties if he didn’t say that shit.
Max calls it even by kicking him in the shin twice and making him watch the stupid beauty pageant.
Which, like, why the fuck are there beauty pageants at the rodeo anyway?
Turns out it wasn’t pageant at all, but the four previous Miss Rodeo’s all lined up and looking far too glammed out for this fucking heat.
Max faked being disgruntled by the disappointment, but Billy knows, somewhere inside that tough bitch little soul of hers, she’s glad she didn’t have to sit through a goddamn pageant just to make Billy miserable.
Besides, Billy had whipped out his flask a few times, and he was feeling alright. Just buzzed enough that the heat had stopped making him feel quite so disgusting.
But not too drunk to miss calf roping.
And yeah, maybe it was a little bit lame to make their way over to the VIP seating earlier enough that they scored the front row. But when Steve came trotting out, leading June behind him, Billy was close enough he could pick out the cluster of moles on Steve’s left cheek.
So, lame was not in Billy’s vocabulary today.
It was pretty much the same thing as last week. Steve made everyone in the arena ooh and aah with his riding, tied up the calf in less than ten seconds once again.
But this time, when he took that jaunty little lap around the small arena, Billy knows for a fact Steve grinned at him. Knows his stupid gay brain wasn’t making up the wink he tossed effortlessly in Billy’s direction.
And they left, just like last weekend, as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon.
“Just, c’mon. Mom gave you money .” Max was whining for a corn dog, of all things. When they have perfectly good, not fried food, at home.
“Maxine, I swear to Christ, I’m fucking tired. Let’s go home so I can crash, and you can fucking drive Susan up the goddamn wall with your whining.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem too bad.” And Billy felt his insides curdling at that voice, felt himself wilting and shriveling because he would not be getting out of this day without one final, no doubt embarrassing, encounter with his gorgeous cowboy.
Steve was leaning against a booth selling chili fries, looking like a perfect picture of a Clint Eastwood movie.
Billy had never liked westerns.
But he was gonna go home and spend all night watching every one he could get his grubby little hands on.
Steve pushed off the side of the booth as Max found her words again.
“You don’t have to live with him.”
“And you don’t have to live with my folks. I’d trade you any day.”
And Billy nearly died. Right there. On the spot. Because. Holy shit. I’d trade you any day.
Billy was more than happy to follow this fucking hick around America, watch him ride his pretty horse before fucking him against the stable wall.
Or whatever. Do they have stables? Billy doesn’t know how a traveling rodeo works.
But like, they’ve gotta have stables, right?
“Nah, you’d get sick of him. He stinks.”
“Have you ever smelled horse shit? Because that’s the fragrance I wake up to every morning.”
And Max was laughing, and Steve was laughing, and Billy was trying to keep his hands as casually as possible in front of his slight chub.
“Will I get the privilege of seeing you two again?” And what a way to word it? The privilege. And then Steve was looking Billy up and down, and he was biting that perfect bottom lip and opening his mouth and “I could always give you my phone number. So we can. Meet up. Next time you’re here.”
“‘Course. You can give us the grand tour.”
And Steve was digging in those tight back pockets again, and shoving his phone into Billy’s hand, and he doesn’t have a passcode, but his home screen was a picture of him and his fucking horse which is, just about the sweetest thing Billy’s ever seen.
And Billy put himself in as Billy Hargrove , and then panicked because Steve doesn’t know his fucking last name. So he settled for Billy and then for good measure shoved San Diego after it because. Billy’s a common name, okay?
And Steve took his non-password protected fuckin’ horse girl phone, and Billy was giving him as charming a smile as he could muster with sweat on his upper lip and saying-
“You better text me, Pretty Boy. So I can save your number.” Billy shrugged, looking off to his left to try and seem. Nonchalant. “In case I wanna see you again.”
And Max was rolling her eyes, but she wasn’t stopping away. Wasn’t even whining at Billy, no doubt on her best behavior in front of hot cowboy Steve.
But Steve had a glint in his eye, and if Max wasn’t here Billy would be playing this all different, laying on the charm a lot thicker than he was.
But he can’t be a horny bastard in front of her. That’s just, like, gross.
So he settles for making a real show of licking his bottom lip, and maybe flexing his bare arms just a tiny bit.
“We should probably get goin’. Got a curfew for this one,” Billy jerked his head in Max’s direction. She huffed before she could stop herself. “See you around, Cowboy Steve.”
And Steve gave another one of his pretty ringing laughs.
“Come again soon, Billy and Max.” And again, Billy’s sure that if Steve were wearing a hat, he would’ve flicked the brim at them as he set off back into the rodeo, dodgin off the main thoroughfare.
“Wow. That was embarrassing for you.”
Billy whipped his head around to stare at Max, giving her the most disgusted look he could muster.
“The fuck you mean?”
“You were so obvious.”
“That’s the fucking point . We were flirting. It’s supposed to be obvious, you demon.” Billy shoved her once before stomping in the direction of the parking lot.
“Yeah but you were like, making these faces at him.”
“Shut the fuck up. I know what I was doing, okay? It was all very calculated . Let him know I’m down for it, and if he texts, then I’m good to go. If not, then I move on.”
And the thought of Steve not texting was kinda, disappointing. Because Billy really wanted him to text. He wanted to stay up late giggling at his phone and the dumb things Steve texts him and pretend they don’t make him flush like a fucking school girl.
He pointedly didn’t look at his notification when he reached the car, just shoved an old tape in and turned up Black Sabbath when Max wrinkled her nose at it.
They were both quiet on the drive back home. Something heavy unsaid between them.
And only as Billy was pulling into his spot in the driveway did Max suck in a big breath to actually put it out there.
“I won’t tell. About him. Not even Mom. Not even that I think he’s cool.”
“Thanks. Easier just to. Avoid at all costs.”
And if Billy were a better person, maybe he would hug her or something.
But they don’t do that. Instead he sighed and didn’t hip check her violently off the porch like his instincts were telling him. So really, he’s a fucking saint.
if you loved harrow county...PLEASE check out it's spin-off series tales from harrow county for a good glimpse into the future of miss bernice, emmy and the whole county of haints and southern gothic weirdness.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Gwilym Lee/Joe Mazzello
Characters: Joe Mazzello, Gwilym Lee, Original Child Character(s)
Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Alternate Universe, Joe Gets The Flu, Gwilym Is A Very Caring Partner, Kid Fic, Joe Has a Kid, Her name is Rudy and she's wonderful
Summary:
There was something of a sense of wounded pride that came along with being this ill. A nagging little worm in his ear that Joe should be able to handle this all on his own. He should be a strong enough father that this shouldn’t phase him.
Gwil wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. "I’d use up all of my sick days if that meant taking care of you and Rudy.” Joe felt him place a little kiss to the top of his head, in his no-doubt terribly sweaty and very in need of a good wash hair. “I don’t think there’s any place that I’d rather be.”
And there it is, Joe thought — the reminder why he didn’t have to do it by himself. There was no rhyme or reason to go about it alone.
Or: It's terribly hard to take care of your five year old while dealing with the flu -- ask Joe, he knows. It's a terribly good thing that Gwil is care for them both.
