Title: Action/Reaction
Author: gothikmaus
Fandom: Stranger Things
Pairing: Steve/Billy
Rating: PG-13
Category: angst, ficlet
Summary: Billy Hargrove had thought he had learned everything about life. He had been wrong.
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation and all related characters are property of CBS. I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
Billy Hargrove had learned from an early age that his looks could get him whatever he wanted. As a young boy, he'd only had to look up at his mom, blue eyes wide open and pout firmly in place, to have her wrapped around his little finger in an instant. In school, a grin and a wink would convince any girl (and some boys too) to pass him the homework he hadn't bothered doing. As he had gotten old enough to drive, he had been able to charm any mother with a smile and a well-delivered compliment, assuring them their precious little daughter would be perfectly safe with him; on one memorable occasion, he had even managed to postpone curfew by a full hour.
But that hadn't been enough to make his own mother come back to him.
Billy Hargrove had also learned that what he couldn't get thanks to his appearance, he could get thanks to his fists. His father had taught him well, slapping him across the face whenever he did something wrong, making sure Billy knew how much of a disappointment he was. Billy had never used violence when his mother was still around: she had always been able to calm him down, persuade him not to give in to his anger, use that pent-up energy in a more positive way. But after she left, he found himself using his fists more and more often. He couldn't hit his father back when the man beat him for not making it to the baseball team, or not being masculine enough, or whatever other reason he came up with, but he could take his anger out onto other kids. So he started working out, got bigger than the bullies, became respected. Feared.
But that hadn't been enough to stop his dad from yanking him away from the only place he had ever called home, dragging him across the whole damn country and dumping him into the middle of nowhere with his new so-called "family".
Billy Hargrove had learned a lot of things in his relatively short life, and he knew how to get what he wanted, one way or another. But he didn't quite know what he wanted from Steve fucking Harrington. Steve was the local golden boy, the King of Hawkins High, rich and popular, but with a bit of a bad boy reputation. He was someone not to be messed with, if Billy were to believe the stories he had heard. So of course he decided he had to antagonize him, but Steve didn't take the bait. Billy then tried to challenge Steve's status, threatening to steal his place in the basketball team, but he still couldn't get a rise out of him. He went so far as subtle flirting, leaning in close in the showers, acting supportive when talking about his ex-girlfriend, calling him pretty. Still nothing. It was driving him insane. He didn't even know why he wanted Steve to react, just that he wanted him to acknowledge his presence and do something about it.
And then he found him standing in front of that house, blatantly lying about Max, and Billy lost it. He acted on instinct, propelled by pure, unrestrained rage, and finally, finally Steve reacted. But Harrington wasn't a king, he was merely a princess, no match for someone like Billy, who had started fighting when he was still a child and had never stopped. Could never stop if he wanted to survive. Max had to dose him with something and threaten him with a baseball bat to make him stop – and where the hell had she found a baseball bat covered with nails? He had never seen her like that. Aggressive. Fierce. Not just the bratty little girl who hated her big brother. There was something new about her, something he couldn't understand.
Billy Hargrove didn't speak to Steve Harrington for months after that night. The next time he did, they were at a party. The house was packed with teenagers dancing and smoking and drinking, the music so loud Billy could feel it pulsing in his stomach. He stepped outside to get some fresh air and saw him, sitting on a swing in the backyard, a can of beer in one hand and a wistful expression on his face.
"What's a pretty boy like you doing out here all alone? Waiting for someone?"
Steve looked up at him at rolled his eyes.
"Fuck off, Hargrove."
Billy grinned.
"Careful, Harrington, my little sister's not around to save your ass this time."
"Whatever," Steve replied, taking a long swig of beer and turning away from him.
Billy narrowed his eyes. He would not let Steve go back to ignoring him.
"Why so sad? Did another girl dump your ass?" he asked, and sat down right next to him on the swing.
Steve glared at him and raised the can to his lips again. He made a frustrated sound when he realized it was empty, and threw it to the ground.
"Just leave me alone."
"And miss out on all the fun? Not gonna happen."
Steve sighed, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. They sat in silence for a while, Billy growing more and more restless. He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag.
"Do you really think I'm pretty?"
Billy chocked on the smoke he had just inhaled.
"What the fuck, Harrington."
Steve was looking at him with a little smirk.
"This is the second time you've called me pretty. One might think you have a little crush on me."
He was on his feet before Billy had a chance to swing a punch at him. He winked and blew him a kiss before rushing back inside.
Billy sat on the swing, frozen, cigarette hanging precariously from the corner of his mouth. Harrington was so dead. How dare he say something like that. Billy wasn't... He wasn't... He liked big boobs and long legs and soft hair he could bury his hands into while...
A sudden image of wild brown hair flashed into his brain, big brown eyes looking up at him from between his parted thighs, hands that were too big to belong to a girl working the zipper of his jeans down.
The cigarette fell to the ground.
Billy Hargrove had thought he had learned everything about life. He had been wrong.
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July 2022