words didn’t feel real. they never did, to steve
bullshit didn’t feel real. like we’re in love didn’t feel real. you don’t love me? didn’t feel real
even the absence of words-well then tell me. that you love me-the silence, the dead air, the nothing that hit his ears when he begged, pleaded, held his heart in his hands and watched it turn blue didn’t feel real
it was always the other shit that felt real. somehow.
the pink sweater in the trunk of his car felt real. the advanced calculus textbook in the middle of his desk felt real. the floral-scented shampoo in his shower felt real
the strip of pictures from last year’s fourth of july carnival. the diamond earrings on the bathroom sink. the handwritten note that said i love you in the front of his wallet
the box was real, the metallic clang that came when he dropped it in the passenger seat, the weight of it in his palms when he walked up and rang the bell on the big house on maple
the i’m sorry that came when his hands were empty, spoken on frowning lips, hidden behind wide eyes, brows pinched high, wasn’t real. neither was the you know i still care about you or the i hope you’re okay
words weren’t real. they never had been, but the empty desk, the clean sink, the hole in the front of his wallet? they were all real
that shit always felt real in a way words never did
maybe that’s why he didn’t think much of it when i told you to plant your feet became i-i shouldn’t have done that. that night was-it was no good. i was goin’ a million miles an hour and i fucked up and i’m sorry. really
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Joyce watches Steve with a smile on her face.
He’s been standing in the beauty aisle for a while, eyes locked on a display of scrunchies. Every so often he’ll pick one up and give it a feel, rub the material between his fingers or twist it around to see how the sparkles catch the light. Then he puts it back. Repeats the action with a different one. Over and over.
It’s clearly an important decision.
Joyce figures he’s got himself a girlfriend.
She hopes so.
She’s proud of him, in a way, for how much he’s grown. How much he’s changed. How he apologised and made things right. The way he jumped headfirst into danger to protect everyone.
Good for him, she thinks, he deserves some happiness.
***
Joyce watches Billy from the corner of her eye. Doesn’t want to spook him.
She doesn’t think he’s there to cause trouble but, even with the biggest benefit of the doubt, he is acting strangely.
He’s done a circuit of the shop at least five times now, doubling back on himself every so often to stand in front of the little shelf of Valentine’s Day cards. He does the same thing each time he gets there, Joyce notes, watching as he reaches out towards the cards and then pulls his arm back immediately as if he’s been burnt, running a hand through his hair or jamming it into his pocket before doing yet another lap of the store.
She’d never taken him for the nervous type.
This one must be special.
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24 + 27, please! Maybe Steve and Billy used to date during high school but broke up when one of them moved away for college? And while they ended it on good terms, they've never heard from each other since. Now Steve/Billy (whoever left) is back in Hawkins and hitting up the local bar. Make it fun! <3
So..... this is my first prompt-fill ever? 👀 I’ve got some prompts today and I’m still a bit surprised but I’m gonna do it.
Oh boy, here goes nothing. (I probably didn’t really nail this one but I tried TT)
warnings: unbeta’d; + there’s a douchebag hitting on Steve
24) You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you &
27) Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second
He’s here.
No. It’s not him. Why would he be here?!
Steve peered over the menu, probably for the hundredth time in the past hour, and craned his neck, trying to get a better look at the guy. Because… screw subtlety, right? Steve had a right to know.
Oh, shit… no. No, no, no.
It was Billy, alright.
But why?
Steve remembered how Billy had used to talk about Hawkins, how he’d actually enjoyed coming up with less-than-charming nicknames for the town.
They’d started seeing each other shortly after Steve had graduated. Billy had kept visiting him at Scoops – teasing him about his shorts, a lot, before finally making a move.
Steve had been the first to confess his feelings. He’d wanted Billy to know, never expecting to hear anything in return, but that’s when Billy had told him that he loved him, too. And Steve had been over the moon. For a while, anyway.
Billy had been accepted to UCLA.
They’d talked about seeing each other during breaks, before realizing that neither of them was cut out for being in a long-distance relationship, so they’d ended it.
And Steve had accepted it, had learned to live with it. Sure, he still missed Billy, missed talking to him, and… pretty much everything about him.
Steve wasn’t lonely or depressed, and definitely not desperately looking for a relationship.
But now, looking at Billy– there was just no denying it.
And who’s that anyway?
Steve didn’t know who Billy was talking to. A girl, around their age, but he’d never seen her in his life. (Steve wasn’t proud of it but knowing that Billy was as straight as a circle did help to calm him down.)
Billy looked good, handsome as ever, his hair shorter, and that goddamn tan. He was perfect, and Steve wanted to climb him like a tree.
I should say something. Ask him how he’s been. Yeah, I should totally do that.
But Steve didn’t. Instead, he knocked back his shot and nodded at the bartender. “Hey, can I have another, please?”
“Make it two– and his shot’s on me.”
Steve raised a brow.
“His shot is on him,” he said, glancing at the guy, “thanks, but no thanks.”
“Aw, c’mon.” The guy grinned as he came closer, leaning down on the counter to look Steve in the eye. Definitely too close for comfort. “Don’t you want my name before you completely reject me, hm?”
Steve sighed.
Yeah, no, that wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m fine without it,” Steve said, pushing himself up from the barstool.
“Oh- you are fine without it,” the guy remarked, placing his hands on both sides of Steve and hemming him in against the counter.
He grinned, leaning even closer. “It’s Hunter.”
… is this really happening right now?
Steve set his jaw.
“Dude, I don’t fuckin’ care. Let go, or–,” his eyes shifted from Hunter’s face to Billy; he was still there, perfect. “-or my boyfriend’s gonna break your face.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” Hunter licked his lips. “You playin’ hard to get now?”
“Fuck. Off.”
Steve pushed him away, his heart thumping in his chest as he made a beeline for Billy’s table. He didn’t look back to check if Hunter was following him or not. But he didn’t feel good, let alone comfortable–
“Hey babe, I’m back. Sorry for taking so long.” Steve smiled and plopped down next to Billy.
Play along. Please, just play along.
Steve met Billy’s eyes for a brief second, hoping, maybe even praying, Billy would just get it.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Billy’s cheek. “The asshole over there won’t leave me alone,” he whispered, “please… pretend to be my boyfriend for a second? I really need your help.”
Steve had half-expected Billy to shove him away, maybe ask if he was stupid, but instead, he felt an arm snaking around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug.
“You okay? Did he do anything to you?” he asked.
“No. No, I’m okay.” Steve allowed himself to melt into the hug, burying his face in Billy’s neck. It felt good, safe.
“Alright, good.” Billy nodded and rubbed Steve’s upper arm. “I’m still gonna break him in half later.”
“… wait- what?”
**
Billy didn’t exactly break Hunter in half; he did punch him in the face, though.
Twice.
**
“You- You didn’t have to do… all that, you know?” Steve said. He wrapped some ice in a clean dish towel and held the pack against Billy’s knuckles. “But… thank you. Really, I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, pretty boy. Anytime.” Billy shrugged, then he shot Steve a quick smile. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”
“You, too.” Steve swallowed, their eyes met for a moment, and he wanted to say something, anything. (He still didn’t know why Billy was back.)
“So, your friend… Lucy? She’s pretty co–”
“I’m moving back to Indiana,” Billy blurted. “Lucy helped me find an apartment, so, yeah… she’s pretty cool.”
Steve blinked, repeating Billy’s words like a mantra. Billy was moving back to Indiana?!
“But– But you hate it here!?”
Billy chuckled.
“Not as much as I thought,” he said, “… living here comes with some perks.”
“Oh–”
“Look, I don’t expect anything from you, Steve. I came back because I fuckin’ missed you, and– I’m sick of not being able to see you whenever I want to.” Billy heaved a sigh. “I’m cool with being friends if you’re already seeing someone else– I won’t fuck it up for you, promise.”
“I’m not seeing anyone,” Steve smiled as he leaned forward, stopping millimeters from Billy’s lips, “… or am I?”
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