A Brief History of Falling for Billy Hargrove [harrington x hargrove]

7.

The time Steve tried to bring up Billy's father, it didn't go well. The moment the words left his lips, Billy froze. Every muscle in his body went taut, as if he was an animal ready to either flee or attack and, knowing Billy, it was probably the latter.

"Look Billy, I know I'm not the sharpest crayon in the box but I'm not blind. I can't just keep looking at the way he hurts you and stand by doing nothing," Steve said carefully. He could just let it go. He could, but he was not going to.

And then Billy was in his face, so close they shared the same air. "That's exactly what you are going to do, Harrington," Billy snarled.

"Make me, Hargrove" Steve snapped. He knew, somewhere at the back of his head, that if Billy really wanted to, he could make him do anything. He could make his life a living hell. But he wouldn't. And Billy himself knew that very fucking well, too.

They stood there with barely inches separating them, waging a staring contest both were set on winning. And then Billy's eyes flicked down to Steve's lips and an unwanted but virtually inevitable thought popped up in his head. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington? What would King Steve's lips feel like against his? He hadn't thought of Steve as of 'King' in such a long time that the name itself sounded unnatural in his head, unnatural on the tip of his tongue, unnatural as he breathed it out. And fuck did he want to kiss him. A minute ago he hadn't even been considering the possibility (or maybe he had, he only didn't let it settle in his mind) and now it had turned itself into a primal, almost animalistic need. As if Steve's lips were oxygen and he had been stuck underwater all his life. He didn't even care what it made him. He didn't care about consequences (even though that was a lie because there was a whole turmoil of doubt and fear and anguish whirling in mind) as he leaded in and pressed his lips into Steve's.

Steve didn't think, he just acted – moving his lips against Billy's (because in all honesty, the thought of kissing Billy had been on his mind for a long time). Billy's lips were rough and so were his (chapped not forceful, in fact the kiss was somehow gentle) and hot and fucking magnificent and it made him think of hands under shirts and skin against skin but it was way too soon for that.

And so they kissed. And kissed and kissed and kissed. And despite their initial doubts, they never ever came to regret it.

They talked about Billy's father afterwards (because no matter how much Steve would have liked to press his lips onto Billy's and kiss him into oblivion, Billy's wellbeing still came first) and so Billy told Steve about how his mother died when he was little, and how his father found refuge in a bottle and whoring around and eventually beating him, and how he met Susan who was beautiful and soft and so much like his mother, and how his father fell in love with her and how Billy came to hate her so damn much (not necessarily because she did anything wrong, only because she tried to replace his mother and he wouldn't let anyone do that) and when he told his father, he beat him up so hard he had to stay at the hospital for weeks and when he got out his father announced with a way too happy, almost cruel smile that he and Susan were engaged and that they were moving to Hawkins, Indiana and he couldn't say one goddamn word about it, and then there was Max who wasn't that bad had she not been forced onto him.

"I don't want your pity," Billy said, looking up at Steve from his seat, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

Steve smiled, taking the cigarette in between his index and middle finger, "You are not getting any, Hargrove. I'm saving it all up for myself." Billy grinned as Steve pulled out the cigarette, took a drag and leaned down to kiss him.