Billy's always loved libraries.
He fucking loves books, has since he was a little kid.
But he just loves everything about them.
In California, he loved the air conditioning. He loved the fact he could find some random corner and not have to go home for hours and hours. He loved that he could read whatever he wanted for free. He loved that if he didn't actually take it home with him, his dad couldn't give him shit for the books he read at an alarming pace.
In Hawkins, it was a place to hide.
Nobody expected Billy Hargrove to be tucked away in the very back of the library, his nose in a book.
And to be fair, he hadn't expected Steve Harrington to be in the library, either.
Billy didn't even know his name the first time he saw him.
Steve had a cart next to him, and was reshelving books, humming quietly to himself.
Billy was fresh to Hawkins, and all he knew was that this town was shitty, and that boy was absolutely beautiful.
In a few days, when he was finally enrolled at the high school, he learned the boy's name.
Steve Harrington.
The stories about him were so different than Billy expected. The tales of the wild party boy, the wannabe bully with a short fuse and a shitty right hook.
Everything he had seen in the library was contradictory to everything he now knew.
Steve wasn't much of a presence at school. He was quiet in his classes, often daydreaming out of the window, or doodling sleepily on his meager notes.
Billy sat one row beside and two seats behind him in calculus, and he had noticed the large red grades at the top of each of his assignments. The low scores and the come see me! scrawled in the teacher's writing.
His ineptitude at school fit somewhere in the middle of the two Steves Billy had come to think about.
Mean party animal Steve didn't care about school. Didn't study and smirked at failing grades.
Library worker Steve blinked tears out of his eyes and stayed behind in class to explain to the teacher I promise, I studied so hard. I don't know what happened, I studied every night last week.
Billy had decided, he liked both versions of Steve. He liked the one with a snarl on his lips and a glint in his eye when Tommy H. said something fucking stupid. He liked the one who showed kids to the childrens' section with a soft smile and gave them a high five when they found a book to check out.
It took a few days for Steve to become aware of the shadow in the library, following his every move as he went through his shift.
The new guy at school. Billy Hargrove.
Metal head lady killer. Who gets into fights and flirts with everyone with a pair of tits.
Who sits in the library and reads Emily Bronté.
He smiled at Steve when they first made eye contact across the reference desk, and Steve thinks he must be imagining the wink thrown his way.
Billy had spread out on one of the desks near the back, his calculus textbook open, notes strewn about.
They had a test the following day that Billy was studying for.
Steve had kinda already accepted the failing he was probably going to earn.
But maybe...
Steve's shift is up in half an hour.
Luckily, Billy stayed put where he was, Walkman headphones over his ears, pouring over notes and example problems.
Steve knocked on the table top like a dork.
Billy looked up at him, and whoa, his eyes are so blue. He pulled his headphones down.
"Hi, uh, Billy, right?" Steve's face felt hot, but Billy just nodded. "Um, we're in the same calculus class-"
"I know. I've noticed you in there."
Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Yeah. Well. I suck as math, and-"
"Do you want to study with me?"
And Billy liked the look on Steve's face. The eye-crinkled grateful smile. It was in between the Steves he knew. It was kind, but he laughed at himself easily.
"Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I mean, I'm stupid at calculus."
"Nah," Steve liked the way Billy brushed off Steve's insecure commentary. "This shit is hard. You wanna do some practice problems?"