#Harringrove Valentines

[bigdumbbambieyes]

modern au where Steve and Billy have never hard launched their relationship online or put a label on it despite friends purposely asking ‘is that your bf?’ or ‘and they were roommates :)’ in the comments of their insta posts just to be annoying (the latter is Robin’s favourite)

finally they break their silence but the most people get from Steve is an insta story of a zoomed in pic of Billy’s forehead curl in the soft glow of the morning light on Feb 14th, captioned only with ‘🌹’ in the corner

and then Billy posts his own story of a sleeping Steve, obviously taken a while ago bc his hair is shorter and they’ve moved since then, with Billy’s hand in front of the camera, flipping off his sleeping boyfriend. the caption reads ‘happy virgin day loser’ and nothing else

they’re deeply in love and continue to be for a long, long time

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #modern au #bambiwrites #happy valentine’s day!! 🤍

[harringroveera]

Well Billy clearly isn’t gonna say no to that

#harringrove #since steve asked so nicely #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #billy hargrove x steve harrington #incorrect harringrove quotes #more harringrove valentines #harringroveera #steve x billy #steve harrington x billy hargrove #harringrove textpost #incorrect billy hargrove quotes #incorrect steve harrington #harringrove meme #harringrove edit #steve harrington meme #billy hargrove meme

[dragonflylady77]

i got you a whole flower shop

A Harringrove Valentine's Day fic I wrote this afternoon

present for @shieldofiron and also @lovebillyhargrove

oh and it's on ao3

Steve walks into a florist shop on Valentine's Day but his plans change after he gets a text not meant for him and he finds himself faced with Billy freaking Hargrove looking like every wet dream Steve has ever had in the past fifteen years since he finished high school.

“Sorry, I’ll be right with you.”

Steve made a vague noise of acknowledgement, too busy staring at the message he’d opened as he’d stepped into the first flower shop he’d spotted.

“Can’t wait to see you tonight baby. I’ll tell Steve I have to work late. Love you x”

He blinked a few times but the words didn’t change. The text was clearly not meant for him. Or maybe it was, he rationalised. That was one way to break up with your boyfriend without having to have the conversation.

He ran a tired hand over his face and put his phone back in his pocket. He wouldn’t need flowers after all. He tried to remember how much stuff he’d left at Jamie’s place during the few months they’d been dating and wondered if there was anything he’d miss if he didn’t get it back.

“I am sorry but it turns out I don’t actually need flowers after all,” he said, his eyes floating over the various buckets of colourful blooms in front of him.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” The voice sounded surprised and familiar and Steve turned around to face its owner.

“Hargrove?” Steve said in shock, stepping closer to the counter. He hadn’t seen Billy Hargrove since graduation fifteen years ago. “What are you doing in Chicago? I always thought you went back to Cali…”

Billy shrugged and Steve took a moment to really look at him. He still had those light brown, almost golden, curls that Steve had always wanted to run his fingers through, piled high in a bun, his face fuzzy with scruff, blue eyes trained on Steve. That part at least was familiar. Steve let his eyes move down, taking in the white tee, tight across the front under the black apron with the shop’s logo on it, Billy’s biceps bulging when he crossed his arms over his chest. Steve’s mouth felt very dry all of a sudden and hoo, was it always this hot in this store?

Billy raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He did, however, run that tongue of his along his bottom lip, another familiar sight, one that resonated inside Steve’s chest, in a place he’d been ignoring for years.

“Um, sorry, didn’t mean to…” Steve fumbled, fidgeting with his fingers. Fuck. He was being so awkward for no reason. He was usually a little bit better at human interactions.

“It’s okay, pretty boy, I know my good looks can be distracting,” Billy replied with a chuckle and Steve felt his face heat up. “To answer your question, my car broke down outside of St Louis and I realised I’d been kidding myself. There was nothing in Cali for me anymore. And I couldn’t leave Max alone with Neil.”

“Ah. I-I heard about him but Max never said—”

“I told her to keep a secret. Couldn’t risk Neil finding out. I made it back to Indianapolis on the Greyhound. Met a nice lady on the bus who offered me a place to stay for a while. Worked my ass off in a bunch of different jobs. Mona and her partner kinda adopted me, so when they moved to Chicago, I followed.”

“That’s why Max went to college in Chicago, isn’t it? Because you were there too?” Steve asked, a few things making more sense now that he knew about Billy.

“Yep. Got her out of the dorms too. She loved it at Mona’s as much as I did.”

Steve smiled. He was glad that Billy and Max had gotten away from his asshole father. He had only managed it himself recently, after more than a decade of working for his dad, being belittled every time Richard Harrington was in the office, no matter how good Steve actually was at doing his job. He’d jumped at the chance when he’d seen that job listing in Chicago and he’d cherished forever the memory on his father’s face when he’d handed in his resignation.

“That’s great, Billy,” he finally replied, and meant it.

“What about you, princess? What brings you to the Windy City?” 

“Oh, I live here too. Been here about three years, I think. I don’t have to tell you how good it felt to be able to tell my dad I was leaving and he could shove it.”

“Ooooh, go Stevie! Always knew you had it in you.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Took me twelve years but I got there in the end…”

“That’s what matters.” Billy grinned. “So, what are you after? Roses for your girl, on account of the day? Or something more original?”

“Oh, um, I, um…” Steve sighed. “I was gonna get flowers for my boyfriend, but after the text I got before, I don’t think I will.”

“Boyfriend?” Billy was staring and Steve realised he probably needed to elaborate a little.

“Yeah… My best friend Robin helped me realise some important things about myself after high school. She made being queer in Hawkins a lot easier. We were flatmates for ages then she moved to Chicago to be with her girlfriend. You know her, actually, Heather? Holloway?”

“Oh. Wow. Yeah, I remember Heather. So you’re…”

“Bi. Yeah.”

“And you have a boyfriend.” The way Billy said it, it wasn’t a question.

It left a bad taste in Steve’s mouth. He got his phone out of his pocket again and sent Jamie a text saying they were over.

“I had a boyfriend.” Steve snorted. “Whoever he meant to text when he texted me can have his cheating ass.”

“You don’t seem too cut up about it,” Billy said, his eyes roaming over Steve and Steve found that he liked it. All at once, memories of basketball training and all the posturing and looks Billy would send him in the showers and hallways of Hawkins High took on a different flavour. All the pet names Billy used to call him when they were teenagers… the same ones he’d used a couple of times in the past ten minutes they’d been chatting.

“I’d only been seeing him for a couple of months, wasn’t anything serious.” Steve decided to take a chance. He crossed his arms and leaned forward on the counter. “It does mean I am now free tonight…”

Billy mirrored his actions, the smile on his face genuine and warm. “Is that so, pretty boy?”

“Uh huh… yanno, in case anyone was wondering.”

“That’s certainly pertinent information.”

“I thought so.” Steve leaned a little closer, smiling when Billy did too. “What time does this fine establishment close?”

“Right now,” Billy replied, without a glance at his watch as he removed his apron and set it on the counter next to them.

“Really? Won’t you get in trouble with your boss for closing early on Valentine’s Day?”

“I’m the boss and I have a hot date,” Billy said with that smirk that had always made Steve’s blood boil. Only now he could name that emotion for what it was: lust. There was something else in Billy’s eyes, something more magical and durable.

“Anyone I know?” Steve asked, his heart beating double time in his chest.

Billy didn’t reply, instead he rounded the counter and came to a stop in front of Steve with a grin. He cupped Steve’s face with both hands and breached the last inches separating them, bringing their mouths together. Steve moaned, his hands on Billy’s wrists to hold him there. He opened his lips to Billy’s questing tongue the second he felt it, pouring all that he was feeling into the kiss, and getting it back ten fold.

Steve let go of Billy’s wrists to grab his waist and dragged him closer. He couldn’t get enough of Billy, hands roaming up his back and down to cup that ass Steve had been dreaming about for months after high school, sparking his bi awakening.

“Fuck, Billy, I’m sorry it took me so long to find you again,” Steve said, breaking the kiss to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Billy’s.

“S’okay, Stevie, you’re here now,” Billy said, dipping his head for a quick kiss. He buried his fingers into Steve’s hair and locked eyes with him. “Never letting you go now I’ve got you, though, I hope you know that.”

“Fine with me,” Steve said as he wrapped his arms around Billy’s middle, delighted to feel Billy’s hard body against his. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve. I don't know what flowers you like yet, so I got you a whole flower shop.”

Steve laughed as Billy locked up for the night then they went up to the apartment Billy was renting above the shop where Billy cooked them dinner. Then they spent all night in bed, worshipping each other, and it was the best Valentine’s Day Steve had ever had.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #dragonflylady77 #valentine's day #florist billy hargrove

[wrecked-fuse]

Steve found his new passion in cooking and started spend much more time reading cooking magazines lately. Billy said enough reading for today my hellfire valentine for @ CheerScoops (twt)

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪  

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #wreckedfuse #stranger things #hellfire valentine's exchange #valentine's exchange

[weird-an]

Steve is so annoyed right now. Billy has been looking for a fight, riled up ever since he got the bruise on his cheek last week and he shouts at Steve for the tiniest things. Makes a big deal out of nothing all the time. Gets loud and angry within second.

Steve is so angry, he wants to throw a real fit. He wants to break something. Most importantly he wants to fight.

Steve groans.

Fuck. That's it, isn't it? Billy wants him to get violent, he wants him to hurt him. To throw a punch, just like back in November and just like Billy's dad. It makes Steve sick. But he wants to fight back. Just not with his fists.

Steve knows Billy doesn't like it when he calls himself an idiot. But sometimes he is one, just like everybody else.

So, he goes and buys some red roses on a particularly shitty day. Which just happens to be Valentine's Day. Billy pretends not to care about flowers, but Steve has seen the careful way he touches them.

"That's gay shit," Billy always says.

For someone who hates gay shit, Billy is a lot into gay shit. But Steve tries to be patient with that. After all he never expected to like men himself.

When he gets home, Billy is already spread out on his couch. Steve has expected it by the way the doormat was crooked.

"What the fuck took you so long?" Billy’s got the wild look in his eyes he always has, when he tries to make Steve angry. When he's haunted by something (or rather someone) else and tries to run away.

"Here." Steve hands him the flowers. "Happy Valentine’s Day, asshole."

Billy is so surprised, he takes the flowers, but holds them like they are poisonous.

"What the fuck, Harrington?" He says, but moving closer towards Steve. Steve is pretty sure he tries to sniff the roses, he can see his nostrils flaring a little.

"I'm angry," Steve says. "But I love you. So I'm annoying you."

"Why would you think that annoys me?" Billy asks.

"Because you don't know what to do with them and you hate that you like them." Steve shrugs.

Billy scowls at him. But he holds the roses a bit closer to his chest.

"I know what to do with them. They belong in a vase," Billy purses his lips, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"Thanks," he mumbles, planting a kiss on Steve's mouth. "You know I…"

Steve smiles against Billy's lips, heart jumping at that. "I know."

#i don't care about valentine's day #but I care about my little queers #billy x steve #harringrove #harringrove ficlet

[panickedpenguin]

Billy gets a box of chocolates for valentines day from a girl he hooked up with 3 weeks ago. He went down on her and she saw Jesus or something and has been a real slut for Billy since. But he doesn't even like chocolate. And he's a man and doesn't need sweets or kindness and Neil would beat his faggot ass for coming home with a heart shaped box of chocolates. So he knows he has to get rid of them, wants to, like right now. There he is in the hallway with the box under one arm and the other arm bent to wipe at his mouth and there's Steve Harrington, head down, his dumb friends a ways behind him. He was right there and Billy thrust out the box and said, Here.

Steve stopped, catching the box to his stomach, looking between it and Billy twice before saying, What?

For you Pretty Boy, Billy grinned, all teeth, pulling out his cigarettes. He couldn't be caught with fuckin candy; what was that girl's name anyway? Stephanie? Susan?

Oh, Steve says. He's looking at the box in his hands and his eyes are all crinkled like he's thinking hard. Billy pulls a cig from his pack and puts it to his mouth for something to mouth out, pretend he's chewing, trying not to gnash at. Uh, Steve says, For you.

And he's holding out a rose. A single red rose wrapped in plastic and a red ribbon. Billy looks at it for a second, because what, and then he's taking it. Grabbing the rose from Steve's fingers with his own, holding it between them. Steve moved his feet then shuffled his heart shaped box and said, Yeah, I was stupid and got it for someone who wouldn't want it but you, I mean, you should have it. It's yours.

Billy thought of the little ex girlfriend and looked up at Steve's face. He still had that furrowed brow, but he looked up at Billy too and he didn't flinch. No hesitation, just some kind of determination. Some kind of stupidity, if you asked Billy.

What the hell, Tommy Hagan says from behind them, his girl holding a bouquet of pink flowers. You guys fags now or something?

Steve laughed, outright laughed in Tommy's face and called out, What's it to you, asshole? Jealous? Then he turns back to Billy, his smile softening to something he's never shown Billy before and he says, Meet me at the bleachers after school, Hargrove, followed by a wink. A wink at Billy. The type of wink Billy would give girls to get them to take off their skirts, a wink that would make even old ladies blush. Billy can't help it, he cackles into the hall with all his teeth and he's smiling and smiling.

Sure thing, Harrington, he croons. He licks his canines in Steve's direction and he turns towards the door with his red rose and his cigarette and his empty mouth full of teeth. Happy fucking valentine's day to me, he thinks, and bites the rose right off it's bud.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #and they were valentines #valentines day

[shieldofiron]

Nuevo Paraíso

For @discodeviant Happy Valentine's Day My Dude! Here's a RDR Au that's mostly an excuse for Cowboys Kissing.

Billy sat down in the dirt with a hard groan.

“Rough riding, friend?” Harrington asked, raising his dented flask.

“Don’t I know it,” Billy rubbed his lower back, “That stallion’s a nasty piece of work. Any chance you want to trade.”

“Not on your life,” Harrington shook his head, heels dragging slightly in the dirt as he looked over at Billy. That pretty head of hair had never looked so messy, nor so beautiful. “But don’t you worry. Maybe next town over you can find a horse to trade. Or one to steal.”

“Love hearin’ you tell me to steal in that fancy accent, Pretty Boy,” Billy nudged Harrington with his elbow. “Say another.”

“Boston isn’t fancy,” Harrington rolled his eyes, tucking his flask away without ever even offering Billy any. Selfish.

Billy didn’t know where they’d turned up this guy. He sure didn’t seem like an outlaw, with his graceful movements and pretty golden tongue. Pretty everything, actually. Not that Billy would let on. Even the rough scar that marred Harrington’s brow didn’t detract from his pretty face, only added to it.

“Fancier than Lenora Hills,” Billy shrugged, pushing away the thoughts. Harrington was too fine, too pretty to be real. He’d seen Harrington flirt with the birds of paradise, flashing those bambi brown eyes, pumping them for information and more. Harrington had made his choice and showed it plainly, so Billy wouldn’t try to kid himself.

Of course it happened sometimes. Don’t think Billy didn’t notice the glances between Marston and Morgan. He’d seen more than one cowboy ride in the saddle with another, though people might pretend it was just for lack of women. But Billy knew, there was always a choice. And Harrington was straighter than an arrow.

“Is that where you’re from?”

Harrington’s eyes sparkled with genuine interest, setting off a battle of the butterflies in Billy’s stomach.

Billy turned his head and spit, “Yep. California. Ain’t north or south or nothing, just dead in the center.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to California,” Harrington rested back on his elbows, his dusty blue jacket pulling taut across his biceps. Billy just looked away, leaning back to match Harrington but keeping his eyes trained on the fire.

“Used to dream of riding out there with a wagon and a wife…” Harrington continued, “Drive out hard and make my way to the golden shore.”

Billy snorted, “I assume that’s not the way you came out west. Unless your wife is a real forgiving type.”

It took so long for Harrington to answer, Billy was forced to look his way. Harrington was looking up at the stars, his long neck bared, pretty eyes aglow. His expression flickered between happiness and sadness.

“No,” Harrington smiled ruefully. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

Billy blinked at the smoke blowing their way, but said nothing, just seeing how long he could get away with looking before Harrington called him on it.

“There was this girl. Nancy. She was in trouble, needed help. So I just… kind of… ignored the law,” Harrington hedged, as if he was being interrogated. “By the time we got back, there were lawmen on my trail, and Nancy… Nancy’d gotten engaged.”

“After you-”

“He’s a nice fellow. I can’t say a bad thing about either of them,” Harrington shrugged, and turned the full focus of his piercing gaze on Billy. “Wish I could, sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it, Pretty Boy. Plenty of tail to chase out here,” Billy’s voice wasn’t shaking. It wasn’t. “Lotsa fillies would kill for a ride with you.”

Harrington didn’t answer, just looked at Billy like he was a bug under a glass, and then slid down, resting his head on his bedroll.

“The west does have something on Boston,” Harrington laughed, “Well. Many things.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“All these stars,” Harrington’s pretty mouth turned up into a smile, and he finally released Billy from his thrall, sweeping his gaze over the night sky. “It's difficult to see the big dipper through the city smog.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Billy glanced back at the camp. The other men were huddled around a larger fire, eyes mostly on their business though Billy could see Marston and Morgan talking heatedly out by the horses. They were just two silhouettes, close enough to kill. Or kiss.

Harrington laughed, the deep rich sound echoing through the night, drawing Billy’s attention back to him.

“You don’t like the stars?” Harrington asked.

“I’m a little more concerned with what’s happening here on earth,” Billy smirked.

“Indulge me, Hargrove,” Harrington’s knee fell a little, nudging Billy’s. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Billy looked away, pulling a hand rolled cigarette from his pocket and a packet of matches, that he struck off his beard with shaky hands, before he could bring himself to answer.

“And what do you think is worth my while, Harrington?” Billy said roughly.

“Me,” There was no tease to his voice, just bold honesty.

Billy sucked on the cigarette, not sure how to play it. This could just be a trick, a way to make Billy admit that he was… that he sometimes…

“Very funny, Harrington,” Billy said dryly.

“Who’s laughing, Billy?” Harrington’s smile was easy. Soft. “Lay down with me.”

Billy just stared down at him.

“For the stars. At least, for now.”

It was just stargazing. Like they were a couple of moon eyed school girls instead of hardened outlaws. It should mean nothing. Probably did mean nothing. Maybe Harrington didn’t know he sounded like a Mary, didn’t know that Billy would even imagine it that way.

Still, Billy kept his trigger hand ready as he lay back in the dirt, tugging Harrington’s camp roll from under his pretty little head. Harrington only laughed, propping himself up on his arm.

“I used to know them all,” Harrington’s voice was soft, almost boyish as he looked up at the stars. “But  down there, almost at the horizon there, that’s ursa major. And ursa minor, above it, the little cup.”

“Big bear and little bear,” Billy shrugged, his shoulders making an embarrassing scraping sound in the dirt.

Harrington chuckled, “And you call me fancy. You know Latin?”

“Just from church stuff,” Billy huffed.

Harrington paused, and then shifted in the dirt, every noise making Billy’s overactive nerves prickle with fear. He settled down closer to Billy, brushing their pinkies together in the dirt.

“You big into… church, Hargrove?”

Billy wasn’t sure what he was being asked, especially not when Harrington was twisting his fingers into Billy’s stiff palm.

“Not really, Billy said gruffly.

“Me either,” Harrington said. “I prefer other forms of worship.”

Billy cleared his throat, “You know any more? Constellations, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Harrington’s hand feels cool and dry, callouses rasping against Billy’s palm, “Above and to… kinda the left. That’s Hercules.”

“Strong man,” Billy said softly.

“Yes,” Harrington scooted closer in the dirt. Warm breath danced across Billy’s cheek. Harrington wasn’t looking at the stars at all.

Billy felt like he’d wandered into a trap. He could still feel his father’s voice in the back of his soul, telling him it wasn’t right, that Billy wasn’t right. Somehow, a long time ago he’d misunderstood something, and he was still trying to go back and get it right.

“Did I read you wrong?” Harrington said lightly. “I thought…”

Billy sat up quickly, jerking his hand back, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s okay,” Harrington sat up, “Hey, Hargrove, it’s-”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Harrington.”

“Keep your fucking voice down,” Harrington leaned forward and laid a finger over Billy’s lips, taking in Billy’s flinch with wide eyes. “I just… like you. I thought if I made some kind of overture you would finally get out of your head about the whole thing.”

“What?” Billy’s voice just came out as a cracked whisper.

“I’ve been hinting,” Harrington raised one scarred brow. “You thought I asked to share the watch with you for what? My health?”

Billy let out a shuddery breath.

“I like you, Hargrove. Thought we could watch the stars until these jackasses go to sleep, and then…” Harrington grinned, the glow of the firelight making him look almost devilish, “At least give me a kiss. Unless you really don’t want to, Sugar. But I think you do…”

It was the same tone as he used on the pretty fillies in town and by God, was it working on Billy.

“Sugar? Ain’t nothing sweet about me, Harrington,” Billy stalled.

Harrington had the nerve to glow, his pretty face lighting up as he licked his lips, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Billy glanced back at the rest of the camp.

“We’re just lookin’ at the stars right now, Sugar. Nothing to see,” Harrington teased. “Come sit down for a while with me.”

He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. Actually might be the worst idea he’d ever had.

But there’s never been so fine a thing as Harrington in his grasp. Not with those mooney eyes, that pretty face. His fine way of talking and his cool hand.

He could always sneak off before Harrington had a chance to tell anyone. He spoke Spanish better than any of them, so they’d be stuck holding their dicks while he made his way up North.

So he sat down in the dirt again, and let Harrington take his hand.

Harrington’s eyes were like a cattle brand on the side of his face, but he kept his eyes on the stars.

“My mama used to tell me that the stars were always the same, somethin’ constant. She knew all the names for ‘em,” Billy said, his voice gravel rough. “But… I don’t know.”

“You like constant things, Hargrove.”

“Yeah, I suppose I do.”

“So do I.”

Billy stared up until he felt like his eyes were blurring. Or maybe it was just the smoke from the fire.

“My father’s a powerful man,” Harrington said slowly, “Houses in Boston, Philadelphia, and he’s got a big parcel of land up near Bozeman, just waiting on a big old house to be built.”

“Huh.”

“He had designs on retiring, moving out west. Don’t know why, he’s about the most lily-livered man in all of Massachusetts,” Harrington’s voice wavered, “But he told me when I left, I ruined that because he can’t retire now. Not with no son to inherit.”

Billy frowned, blinking up at the sky, “Where are you going with this, Harrington?”

Harrington sighed, “I’m just sayin’. There’s a big parcel of land in the name of Steven Yancey Harrington, Senior, up in Montana. I just gotta get the money to head up there. Build myself a little place. Something constant in this fucked up world.”

Billy’s eyes prickled.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything but fish all day. Maybe get a chicken or two, sell eggs in the city. Hell, if I got enough money I’d say the hell with my father and build wherever I can find. Head out to the golden shores of California.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It’s gonna be. But it would be nicer with someone there. Maybe someone who knows a little latin, for when I’m a little slow on the uptake,” Harrington laughed.

“You’re not slow,” He searched the skies, wishing they could say what Harrington meant, because he wasn’t sure if he knew. “I feel slow. I hardly know what you’re talking about half the time, Harrington.”

“I’m talking about you and me finding a little slice of constant with each other, Hargrove,” Harrington’s hand tightened a little. 

Billy turned towards him at last and Harrington quickly glanced up at the rest of the camp before resting his hand on Billy’s cheek. “I hear there’s an awful lot of stars out in Montana. Man could get lost in a sky so blue. Among other things.”

Billy’s breath stilled in his lungs.

“I like you, Billy.”

“I like you too, Harrington.” It was more air than sound, half carried away by smoke.

Harrington’s breath brushed Billy’s lips, “See, I told you. You’re so sweet. Sweet on me.”

“Shut the fuck up, Harrington.”

“Make me, Sugar.”

It was a cool night out in the plains, just north of Nuevo Paraíso. Their boots made scraping noises in the dirt when they knocked together, hands grasping, tongues tangling. Billy didn’t lose his head but it was a close thing.

Billy never really knew much about the stars. He only cared about what was on earth, what he could hold and grasp. Constant things, like Harrington’s heartbeat under his palm, his sweet taste on Billy’s tongue.

But when he finally pulled back, trying to get his head on right… Harrington had stars in those big brown eyes.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #cowboy au #valentines day fic exchange

[disdaidal]

Happy Valentine's Day

@lovebillyhargrove

​ ♥

#harringrove #harringroveedit #harringrove edit #stranger things #strangerthingsedit #valentine's day #steve x billy #billy x steve #lovebillyhargrove #gifs by disdaidal #♥♥♥

[whenyouwishuponastar7]

easy and slow (1/1, 10078 words) Pairing: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Rating: General Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Steve Harrington, Post S2, 5+1 Things, Billy & Max Bonding, Healing, Friendships, Affection, Love, falling in love from afar, through others, and much closer, Fluff and Humor, Softe and Warme, Boys in Love, Happy Ending, Valentine's Day Exchange Summary: Five times Steve sees Billy Hargrove’s affection from near and far. And one time Billy sees Steve’s affection from afar—or maybe he’s been watching as closely as Steve has. They’re not so different, after all. --- Happy Valentine's Day, @thissortofsorcery I'm so glad to know you, Gabi!

#valentine's day exchange #harringrove #whenyouwishuponastar writes #5+1 things #this is fluffy and soft and I think billy's opportunity to heal a bit after s2!

[passivenovember]

Happy Valentines Day!

Dedicated to my babies over in the smut cave. Thanks for making everyday so saturated in horniness that I can’t feel anything but love. You’re the best.

And to @cherrydreamer , who is so good I’m pretty sure God could learn a thing or two.

--

Steve’s not his boyfriend. Billy ties honesty around each wrist to keep himself in place whenever things start to feel a little too much like a roll of party balloons.

And they always do, with Steve. Because Steve’s an idiot.

He’s full of shining romance. He parks the Beemer outside Billy’s house every morning before school even though Billy’s got a car because Steve hopes, against all hope, that Billy will roll over and be his girlfriend.

That he’ll let Steve hold his hand and carry his books and allow Steve to drive them to school. Billy and Max, fighting over the radio station and tracking mud onto the floors while Steve grins like a moron.

Harrington has a death wish disguised as chivalry.

Because even though Billy aims to chew his head off and Neil would probably bury them both alive if he ever caught on, Steve climbs through bedroom windows and tucks notes onto mattress pillows and in between the slots of lockers because he’s got flowers growing out his ass.

Love’s gonna win out, for him.

Billy doesn’t get it. 

The hope. The peppery, love-sick gestures. He could pick them by the handful, each colored for a different moronic display of Steve’s lingering affection. 

And it’s not that Billy hates flowers, it’s just. 

It’s spring. 

It’s the promise of the days getting longer and air gusting warmer and the hope that even though he’s still living like a stoned crab under the ever-present weight of his father, Billy could relax into Steve’s attention and summer will drape itself over the land. 

If he just gave in, July would burn hot on his shoulder blades.

–

Billy doesn’t give in. 

He can’t.

He could lie and say it’s all part of some rude awakening. He’ll take Steve’s dick up his ass, down his throat, blooming like cactus blossoms between both hands, but he doesn’t love him.

But, turns out, as January melts into six more weeks of winter and Heather’s warning that this thing between Billy and Steve’ll vanish as soon as the ground starts to thaw, Steve gets restless.

Billy can’t blame him. Knows they’ve both got a lesbian ear-worm chewing their confidence to shit. 

Heather urges Billy to stop being such a piranha and Robin tells Steve he’s gonna get his heart smashed and tossed like a new penny into the ocean. Lost. Forgotten on its descent to the bottom of the hapless sea. 

And to be honest, no one’s ever been able to guess why Steve chose this. Billy, in all his pathetic glory. 

But he did. He picked Billy like a thorn from his side.

And they hammer themselves into something like the mockery of a relationship because that’s what people do. They fuck. They smoke pot and dry hump and fuck again, each chewing on the idea that maybe this won’t last. 

Billy’s good at ignoring it and Heather and himself until the weekend before Valentines Day. 

Steve pulls out of him. Rolls onto his back and says, “You never gaze at me,” even though his spunk is cooling the sheets under Billy’s naked thighs.

Billy shifts on the pillow, blowing smoke at the ceiling so it won’t end up in Steve’s eyes.

Steve won’t look at him.

He’s got the sheets tucked up around his chest, arms crossed over their slick face like he’s ashamed of himself, maybe, for the first time ever. Regretful of Billy. Of this thing between them.

Billy frowns. “I don’t do what?”

“You don’t gaze at me,” Steve tells him, Adam’s Apple bobbing like he needs a cool drink. “Y’know. Like when you see a pretty girl–”

“Don’t like girls, remember?”

“Okay, then,” Steve rolls onto his side, propping himself seriously on one elbow. “Say it’s a cute guy. Handsome.”

“Alright.”

“When you see a handsome guy, you know? In a nice car, do you ever–”

“Is it a fast car?”

Steve blinks. “Does it matter?”

“‘Course it does,” Billy sucks on his smoke again, teasing, “Fast car’s a sign of taste. And to be able to afford that kinda car you’ve gotta have money. And in my experience, any guy with money’s got a cock on him.”

“Every guy’s got a cock.”

“Yeah, but not every cock’s a good one,” Billy winks, “Ain’t that right, Rolls Royce?”

Steve turns red, all the way down his chest. Billy has the familiar urge to pin him to the mattress and lick at his nipples, see if they taste like strawberry jam when he blushes like that.

But Steve’s eyebrows are threaded together. Serious, when he says, “You’re saying the only thing that’d trap you in a gaze is a nice car?”

Billy shrugs. “I don’t gaze.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I could, though,” Billy looks over at him, guilty for the thrill that rolls through him at the sight of Steve, naked and pissed off. “If we’re talking about a fast car, and a rich guy, and a nice cock–”

“Forget it,” Steve snaps, sitting until the sheets pool around his waist. “Forget I said anything, alright?” Harrington jostles the bed, swinging his legs over one side. He reaches for his pants, tugging them on so roughly Billy’s worried he’ll give himself rug burn. 

Billy puffs on his cigarette. “Where you going, pretty boy?”

“Gotta piss.”

“You’re putting clothes on for that?”

Steve drops his pants as if they’ve caught fire. “Maybe I’ll leave.”

Billy snorts. “You live here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna kick you out,” Steve snaps. Annoyed. He’s never been this irritated with Billy before. So pressed he won’t even look at him.

Steve always looks at him. 

Gazes. 

It’s not a great feeling.

Billy props himself against the headboard, trying to backtrack whatever landmine he ate shit over. Steve’s seething on the edge of the mattress, so far away he might as well be in Asia. So close Billy can map the constellations between his shoulder blades. “Come here,” Billy says softly.

Steve shakes his head. 

“Steve.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know,” Billy pinches the butt between his teeth. “Come here anyway.”

One moment yawns into the next and then Steve’s toes follow each other back onto the mattress. He tucks under the sheets, eyes tacked to the ceiling. 

“What,” Steve says. Taught and fragile. Bitchy.

Billy chokes on a swell of something. Swallows it down. “You don’t wanna cuddle?” He asks, exactly how Steve always does. Batting his eyelashes where he knows Harrington can see. 

But Steve won’t budge. He crosses his arms. “Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it.”

And Billy. 

He’s a pro at flipping the script. At hiding in plain sight. He’s been pretending to want this and nothing more if it means he’ll get Steve. A couple nights a week fucking in a bed he never sleeps in, watching every flash of desperate pleasure on Harrington’s face because there’s no chance he’ll run into the weight of anything when he’s caught in orgasm land. 

Billy doesn’t say the only time he feels good is when Steve comes. Doesn’t own up to the way it gets him through the swell of night, the memory of being so close to someone who’s good because it’s his nature. 

Steve never has to try. He’s perfect.

And Billy isn’t ready to admit anything. That he recognizes it. Feels Steve’s brilliance like a twisting knife in the back; Tell me what you want–

Billy clears his throat. “Do you want me to leave?”

The possibility makes him nauseous. Steve takes the cigarette that’s handed to him, perfect plush lips closing around the butt of the thing.

“Tell me, baby. I’ll go right now. You’ll never have to see me again–”

“God, you’re a dumbass, too, you know that?” Steve hands the cigarette over, jaw tense. “If I wanted you gone I would’ve kicked you out forever ago.”

“You. You mean tonight, or–”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him softly. “Months before that. Before I fell in love with you.”

Billy chews on their cigarette and watches Steve in between puffs. The way his lashes flutter when he’s trying not to give the side eye. 

Billy feels haunted. By everything. His future. The way Steve’s so free with his words and his truth, tossing them at Billy like red roses and rotting tomatoes. Steve says he loves him, and Billy’s heard it before. Steve’s sentiment gets lost in the roiling anger that makes Billy who he is. 

But tonight, it’s silenced.

Steve’s I love you’s have that effect on him. Cutting all the noise from the sky as his attention drapes over Billy like the lid of a coffin. Like sunlight, too. 

Daylight.

Billy turns to face him, his wrist cracking under the weight of his head. “Do you want me to gaze at you more?” He asks.  

Steve chews on a mouthful of smoke and then blows it at the ceiling until it looks like a cloud.

A bunny or an anvil. Something.

“I could,” Billy says. “You’ve got everything that grabs my attention, you know?”

“What? Money and cars and–”

“Yeah, but. It’s not only that shit, I was. I was kidding.”

Steve blinks. “You were kidding?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Steve says, as if tasting the caramel drop word on his tongue. He shifts on the mattress, glancing over and away again. Teasing. “Alright. What else about me grabs your attention?”

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? Itemized list style?”

Steve’s demeanor falls flat again. A punctured balloon trickling from the sky. “Never mind,” He says, “Forget it. You obviously don’t feel the same about me as I do about you–”

“You make me laugh, okay?” Billy spits. 

He swallows thickly. Fiddles with the lip of the sheets. His words burn like acid. He’s cut to the bone. 

“I like the way you drum on your knee when there’s a song you dig. You have passions. You read, but you’re not very good at it. You help me study even though you mispronounce everything. You’re kind.”

And suddenly, Steve’s looking at him. Through him, too, past every swirling atom, toggling layers of bullshit and titanium walls meant to keep everyone out.

But under the cosmic starfall of Steve’s gaze and his attention and his love–

Billy’s walls never stood a chance.

“I like you,” Billy grits. 

There. 

He said it. He told the truth and now Harrington can out a lid on those eyes and stop looking at Billy like he ran over the family dog–

“You mean it?” Steve asks.

As if Billy’s saying something else. Like he’s admitting to a crime, or accepting a ticket to go anywhere in the universe.

Billy frowns, not understanding. “I guess so.”

Steve watches him for another endless, yawning moment. “Prove it.” He says, and finishes the cigarette.

–

It’s kind of how Max was, in that weird space between Billy’s first I’m Sorry and where they are now. 

Billy had to work for it because Billy has to work for everything. It’s like purgatory. Paying out of pocket for all the shit he’s done wrong in his life. 

Steve says, “prove it,” and Billy doesn’t really believe him at first. 

They aren’t together. Billy isn’t his fucking girlfriend, and Steve’s old enough that he’s supposed to have stopped wishing for grand gestures. 

Doesn’t he know that shit isn’t real? That husbands get their wives flowers because they got caught fucking their secretaries, and boyfriends only tuck fuzzy animals into their girlfriends arms to apologize for getting drunk and covering her in bruises?

But the more Billy turns it over in his hands, the more he realizes he should’ve seen this coming.

Steve’s got a pension for anything sappy and romantic. 

He goes hog wild for John Huges and sets money aside for February 15th, when all the Valentine’s candy is on sale. He sings the Ronettes at the top of his lungs when Billy’s pissed off, wiggling his hips and begging Billy to be his little baby. 

Steve pretends not to trace love hearts on storefront windows. He ignores thoughts of dinner reservations and avoids all conversation of expensive springtime bouquets until someone asks his opinion, and suddenly Steve’s a florist. 

Last year he even helped Max and her Nerdy friends plan a romantic double date night, complaining all the while even though he made Billy hide with him in the back room so they could spy–

And.

It hits Billy like a freight train.

“No,” Billy tells himself. He shakes his head, curls catching obnoxiously on the pillow beneath him. “No way–”

He’s not asking the Nerd Squad for help/

He’d never hear the end of it. They’d roast him alive and it would cost him every cent in his California fund. Curly top would accuse him, all over again, of not being suave or good or smart enough for someone like Steve, and the rest would co-sign without ever saying a word, and–

No.

Billy isn’t going to put himself through that type of ego-death all for a pair of legs, and that’s final.

But just as he starts to doze off, dreams lapping at his toes like warm ocean water, Billy settles with the fact that he has no other choice.

It’s his ego or Steve, and if Billy doesn’t play this right he’ll never love again.

–

“He says you never gaze at him?”

Billy digs his nails into his palm. “That’s what I said.”

“Steve’s kind of confusing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I mean, it’s so weird,” Max’s shoes thump against the base of the couch, filling their empty house on Cherry lane with music. “You throw plenty of gaze at him.”

“I know, right?”

“You are gay-ze,” Max teases.

And if Billy were any less desperate, he might stick a wet thumb in her ear for that one. But he’s on his last leg. He’s tearing his curls out by the root. He’s climbing the walls, he’s–

Max frowns. “Tough crowd.”

“It was funny,” Billy tries, smile stiff and unnatural. “I was gonna laugh, but–”

“But you’re worried if you don’t do something grand and rom-com perfect Steve’ll dump you.”

Billy glares at her. “There’s nothing to dump. We aren’t dating.”

“Sure,” Max says slyly. 

She’s such a little shit. She’s the worst.

Billy bites against the urge to bully her. To pinch her arm and revert back to his old self to get what he wants out of the situation.

Max shrugs her knobby little shoulders and admits, “Steve’s not that hard to romance.”

Billy drops the act entirely. “How the fuck would you know that?”

“When he helped Lucas and Mike plan our double-date last year he gave this obnoxious speech about how girls pretend like we want diamonds and flashy declarations, but really it’s the thought that counts.”

But. “Steve’s not a girl,” Billy thunks his head on the back of the couch, exhausted.

This is bullshit.

This is so difficult–

“It’s not like you could afford to do anything obnoxious even if you wanted to,” Max tells him. 

And Billy gets that it’s meant to be reassuring.

Steve was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Anything he wants he can get for himself, including expensive bouquets and five-star dinners. Hell, he could get himself off, too. Doesn’t need Billy for anything. Not really. 

But that’s half the trouble.

If Billy can’t live up to the Valentine's Steve can plan for himself, he doesn’t know why he’s trying. 

Why he’s losing sleep, sick to his stomach over the thought that this might be it.

“Stop spiraling,” Max sits on the coffee table in front of him, knocking their toes together until Billy pins her with a heat-less glare. “When you imagine a perfect day with Steve–”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why? Max demands, “Because it involves a lot of open mouthed kisses?”

“Just tell me what you think he would like.”

“A handjob, probably.”

Billy sits ramrod straight. “Max, let’s watch the mouth.”

“Don’t take it out on me. I’m pretty sure that’s what every guy wants.”

“Steve’s not every guy, he’s. He’s fucking perfect and he was born in a castle and he’s always had anything he’s ever wanted and I’m a piece of shit–” 

“Billy, you’re fine,” Max tells him. Because, of course, she sees right through Billy’s vitriol.

He’s made of glass.

He’s a window. A crystal slipper, plummeting to its brain-shattered death.

Max knocks their toes together again. “Even if you served him a burnt pot of macaroni on a dirty plate, tucked over a sticky dining room table, he’d love it.”

“Why,” Billy snaps, “Because it’s me.”

“Because it’s you,” She says, eyes blue and earnest. “Now, walk me through your perfect date.”

–

In the end, mop top and the wheeler kid think it’s sweet that Billy’s trying in the first place.

They give him his blessing.

On February 14th, a day that’s so cloud-covered and rain drenched that Billy almost wants to call the whole parade off and stay in bed until the sun rises red and new, Steve’s dorks manage to get him out of the house.

His parents are in Rome, because.

Of course they’re in Rome. The city of love.

And Billy’s been shaking hard enough to cause an Earthquake since the second he got into the shower this morning, but Max smiles and says, “Tonight, Hawkins is the most romantic place in the world.”

So Billy chooses hope.

They light candles. They decorate. Billy orders heart-shaped pizza because he’d probably give them food poisoning if he tried to cook, and suddenly it’s 5:00.

The dorks clear out.

When the front door opens, Steve runs headfirst into a hallway covered in wilting daisy petals. He’s immediately tangled in the strings of four stubborn Get Well balloons because Max tried her best.

He drops his shopping bags when he sees the candles.

He almost brains it on the stairs, because Billy’s waiting in a suit, collar uncomfortably tight around the knob of his throat.

“Billy–” He says, with tears in his eyes.

But Billy’s gotta spit it out, before the words choke him to death. He takes the stairs two at a time, arriving at the bottom.

“Steve,” He says, kind of breathless. “I don’t just like you. I love you, and. Max helped me plan this because I’m an idiot. And the balloons are all wrong and I didn’t cook you anything, not even macaroni, but I love you, and--”

“It’s perfect,” Steve tells him.

And Billy doesn’t want to brag, but.

He proves it. Seals the deal with a kiss.

#harringrove #valentines day #and I did get lazy at the end! #sorry!

[bigdumbbambieyes]

(Forever) Valentine read on AO3

Happy Valentine’s Day, my sweethearts!!

♥️

He’d quietly watch Steve walk on by at school, pressing his lips together to hold back the words that desperately wanted to slip from them.

All sorts of words, taunts and catcalls alike, but he usually had to stop himself from calling out the pretty boy’s name. 

Harrington. 

King Steve. 

Steve.

Anything for his attention; a want for those Bambi eyes on him and only him that burned so brightly in Billy’s chest.

Because he’d learned that while annoying the shit out of the guy was great for a cheap thrill, it wasn’t the right way to go about it.

Or so he’d gathered, after watching Steve in the halls and seeing how he lit up when people would greet him easily. Friendly. He watched the way Steve’s lips stretched into a grin, how his dark eyes softened, how his cheekbones bunched sweetly.

Billy wanted to take a bite out of the apples of Steve’s cheeks.

And that was his problem. 

♥️

His quiet yearning drowned him for weeks.

Watching Steve at school, at practice, at parties, at the arcade where he dropped off those brats.

And the urge to take a bite out of Steve was still there, probably always would be, but the longer Billy held himself down, the more he daydreamed.

He wondered what Steve liked. What he did in his spare time, when he wasn’t being a total loser. Wondered dirty, filthy things late at night. Sweet, sugary things in the morning when he was half-asleep and still feeling Steve’s touch in his dreams.

Lost in those dreams, reality hit him when they were assigned the same room at an away game. Alphabetized intervention: Harrington and Hargrove, room 12.

Steve had a pinched look on his face when their coach dropped the room keys into his palm, and Billy rolled his eyes at Jason’s annoying giggles behind him. He made sure to knock Carver’s shoulder hard with his own when he walked by, giving him a mean grin as Steve lead the way to the room.

At least there were two beds.

“Okay,” Steve huffed as he set his bags down on the bed nearest the bathroom and turned to him, a set look on that pretty face, and Billy expected something. A little opener to the long-awaited talk they hadn’t had from that night at the Byers’, maybe. A little ‘let’s just get along for the trip’ kinda thing. 

What he didn’t expect was the simple, little, “I snore, so...fair warning.”

Billy hadn’t imagined Steve snoring in his daydreams. 

It was devastatingly so very him. Not that Billy had any knowledge on who Steve really was, but...

Billy pressed his lips together and gave a nod, “Fair. I’m a light sleeper, so...I’ll kick your bed if you get too loud.”

And for the first time, Steve smiled at him. Small and unsure, but it made his cheekbones puff a little and his eyes crinkled just enough to make Billy’s heart flutter.

“Sure, Hargrove,” Steve hummed, shaking his head in amusement as he turned back to his luggage.

♥️

They talked over the low volume on the staticky TV for most of the night, about California and Hawkins and girls at school and their cars and whatever other surface-level shit they could think of. 

He learned that Steve loved Cap’n Crunch. That his favourite colour was blue. That he and Nancy had broken up months ago and he didn’t know how to feel about it. 

“That’s fucking stupid,” Billy huffed.

Steve looked over at him from his bed with a furrowed brow, “Dude--seriously?”

Billy half shrugged, or tried to, with his arms folded behind his head as he leaned against the headboard and kept his eyes on the TV, “She broke your heart, Harrington. You can feel sad, y’know.”

The silence dragged out for longer than he’d expected, and he refused to look over at Steve, because he knew those eyes were boring into the side of his face. He could feel them.

“I know I can feel sad, asshole. I just...--y’know, whatever, forget it.” Steve huffed and looked at the TV again.

Billy knew heartbreak. He’d felt it when he’d left California. 

Breaking up with someone you love probably felt pretty close to leaving your home.

They’d stopped talking for so long that Billy was sure Steve had fallen asleep, but he still cleared his throat quietly and muttered, “Maybe...” he licked his lips, gathered his thoughts, “Maybe you’re...falling out of love, or some shit.”

The silence that followed made him panic, made him think of how stupid he was for saying something like that, because what the fuck? Who fucking says something like that? Especially to someone you weren’t supposed to fucking like in the first place?

Yet, Steve quietly muttered, “...that’s probably the best way to put it.”

The simultaneous relief and hope Billy felt made him nauseous.

He pushed himself up from the bed and threw, “Glad I could help,” over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom, pissing with the door open and smirking as he heard Steve’s exasperated ‘dude’.

♥️

“You’re like...a smart guy, huh?” 

Billy glanced up from his book and saw Steve biting at the end of his pencil, a thoughtful look across his face that made the back of Billy’s neck go hot.

“Finally figuring that out, hm? Bet you had to rub those two braincells together real hard to come up with that,” Billy teased half-heartedly, because over the last few weeks he’d uncovered that Steve struggled in school and his intelligence was a bit of a sensitive topic. 

So, he’d begun helping Steve in a few subjects, when he could. Like today. It was four in the afternoon on a Thursday and Steve was supposed to be going over the revisions Billy had made to his essay.

Instead, Steve is tossing his pencil at him and Billy snorted when it fell short and tumbled to the floor.

“Shut up,” Steve huffed with a small smile, “I mean it, dickhead. You’re smart.”

“Yeah, I know. Your point?”

“I just...I don’t know why you’re helping me.”

Billy bent down to grab the pencil from the floor and tossed it back at Steve, watched it bounce off the pretty boy’s chest and back onto the table, “Because you fucking need it?” 

Steve’s staring at him like he has been for the last couple of weeks. Big, round eyes and chin tucked towards his chest a little, mouth pensive. Like he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

“Are we friends or something?” Steve huffed, finally.

And Billy smiled, “Or something.”

They left it at that.

♥️

Friends or something.

Billy let himself dream all throughout the bitter, cold winter. Let himself buy Steve a Christmas gift because that’s what friends did, right? He forced himself not to smile too wide when Steve gave him a gift in return - a thoughtful little gift: a new bookmark with an image of a beach on it. 

“To remind you of home,” Steve had muttered with that little smile.

Billy wanted to kiss him. He’d let himself imagine it for half a second, feeling the phantom press of warm lips against his own, let Steve’s cologne fill his nose while the kiss deepened as Steve tried on the new pair of sunglasses Billy had picked up at the dollar store.

“What do you think?” Steve grinned behind the cherry red aviators, even tilted his head to the side like he was cute.

Billy reached up and hooked his fingertip along the metal that crossed the bridge of Steve’s nose and pulled the sunglasses down slowly, kept that gaze steady with his own until red eyes turned brown and Billy hummed, “They’re alright.”

“Asshole,” Steve chuckled with a smile before pushing them back up with his middle finger, and that’s when Billy put him in a headlock.

♥️

Spring came, and went, and Billy fell harder.

Fell so hard he didn’t know if he could keep it to himself any longer.

Max, the annoying little shit, looked at him with this knowing. Like she could smell the crush on him - if ‘crush’ was even the right fucking thing to call this anymore.

He thought about Steve constantly. Craved his attention, always, but this was different. He wanted to know every boring moment in Steve’s day when they weren’t together, wanted to know what he dreamt of last night, what he thought of when he wasn’t thinking at all. 

The feeling in Billy’s chest was thick. Heavy. He kept it to himself until a hot day in late June, when the sun was shining and the heat was high enough to warrant a swim.

“C’mon, just us,” Billy purred into his bedside phone, “I’ll even bring over something to drink.”

As if Steve needed any liquid courage to hang out with him, but Billy knew how to sweeten a deal, because the groaning little princess on the other end of the line finally huffed, “Fine, get over here.”

Billy swiped the half-drunk bottle of rum from his closet and drove over in record time, red trunks in one hand with the bottle in the other as he walked up the driveway to where Steve was leaning against the opened front door, fighting back a smile.

“We’re shooting straight rum, Hargrove?” Steve scrunched one side of his nose as Billy stepped inside.

“If that’s what you want, pretty boy,” Billy hummed as he went over to the infamous Harrington kitchen and swung the refrigerator door open, blue eyes scanning the contents lazily.

“No thanks,” Steve muttered in reply, “I have...orange juice?”

“Better than nothing,” Billy grunted as he reached for it. 

♥️

Two drinks in and Billy was shamelessly changing into his swim trunks in Steve’s backyard, watching with a grin as the back of Steve’s neck coloured just as red as his shorts and muttered something like ‘gimme a warning next time you get your dick out, man’.

Billy dove into the water and resurfaced just in time to see Steve doing the same, grunting as he was splashed from the clumsy cannonball, and smacked the surface of the water once Steve had wiped the water from his face.

“Dick,” Steve huffed, and splashed him back.

And, well.

They splashed each other like kids, great big waves that made Billy choke, made him laugh, until he splashed the pretty boy into a corner.

And Steve surrendered, held his hands up, coughing and laughing as Billy swam over and that was when he noticed that Steve’s eyes were two different colours.

He’d always seen them as dark brown, big and doe-like, but it wasn’t until he had Steve pressed up into the corner of his pool that Billy really looked into them and noticed.

Dark brown on the left, black on the right. Like milk chocolate and dark chocolate. The way the sun reflected off the water in the pool in rippling waves showed him the truth.

“What?” Steve whispered heavily with a shy little smile, like he could be shy, and Billy broke.

He leaned in and pressed his mouth against that wide Cupid’s bow.

Tasted chlorine and sunscreen on Steve’s lips, rum and Tropicana on his tongue.

It made Billy ache to realize that Steve wasn’t pushing or pulling away. No, he pulled Billy closer in that sunshine heat and cool water, until they parted with a breathless laugh.

Their first summer kiss.

♥️

In early September, just before Billy’s senior year, he was in a particularly sour mood after a run-in with Neil that resulted in the keys to his Camaro being taken away. Confiscated, really.

To top it off, it’s Friday night and he’s been locked in his bedroom, left to rot, angry and annoyed.

The shrill ring of his phone made his jaw clench and he snatched the receiver up to his ear, muttered a dark, “What?”

“...booze cruise?” is all Harrington offered on the other end, quiet and casual.

He’s an angel, Billy’s sure. “Pick me up in ten - I’ll wait down the block,” he muttered before hanging up and heading to his window.

♥️

One thing Billy quickly learned about small town living was that booze cruises were a common thing. You grabbed a buddy or a girl or whoever, bought a six pack or stole from your parent’s liquor cabinet, and took your car to a long, empty backroad.

At least, that’s how Steve did it. Billy learned from him first-hand.

“Billy--the fuck did I say about shaking the can?” Steve scrunched his nose as beer foamed down the side of the can in Billy’s hand and dripped onto the floor of his car, Billy’s mouth too slow to catch it.

“Quit bitching, Harrington - I got it,” Billy muttered as he sucked up the foam from the top of the beer and handed it to Steve, smirked at the pretty boy who made a face at the stickiness.

They’re a few beers in already, Billy’s played the radio way too loud in Steve’s car because he refused to listen to his music, and he’s feeling...good. Better that he had back in his room. All thanks to the boy beside him.

Steve knew better than to ask about the shiner under his eye. Billy would tell him about it, one day. Maybe. 

“You ever stargaze in Cali?” Steve piped up after a stretch of silence.

He had, obviously, but he kinda wanted to see where this would go. “Not really. Light pollution and shit.”

Steve pulled the car over and Billy smothered a grin.

“C’mon,” Steve muttered as he unbuckled his seatbelt and shut his car off, threw his door open.

Billy followed him, easily, to the front of the Beamer and leaned back against it with Steve, who was already eyeing the sky.

“Alright,” Steve hummed, and Billy turned his head up to look at the sky. It was full of stars and the moon and it was pretty, yeah, but his eyes still slid over to the prettier sight beside him.

“There,” the brunet pointed to a spot in the sky in front of them, “Is the Big Dipper. See those three stars sorta in a row? One, two, three,” Steve counted them out and Billy looked up at the sky again, saw those familiar stars, and nodded.

“Yeah, see ‘em,” he muttered.

Steve’s finger carved out a little below that patch of stars, “Okay, get this: the Big Dipper isn’t a real constellation - it’s part of ‘The Great Bear’, which is the actual constellation.”

Billy’s brows lifted, impressed, because he hadn’t expected that. “Really?” He muttered, squinting his eyes a little to focus on the stars that Steve continued to point at.

“Mhm,” he hummed, “And right above it,” his finger went north, higher in the sky, “Is the North Star - see it?”

Billy did, and he nodded, “Yeah.”

“That’s the Little Dipper, which is part of ‘The Little Bear’ constellation. It’s easy to see once you know where the Big Dipper is.”

“Hm.”

“Wanna see another one?”

“Yeah.”

Steve turned them a little and pointed out Orion’s Belt, which made it easier to find his bow, and sword. Finding Orion made it easy to find ‘The Bull’, and Billy felt a smile settle on his face the longer Steve went on and on about the stars and constellations. He wanted to tease him about it, say some shitty joke, but couldn’t find it within himself to. 

“Okay, we can find ‘The Twins’ now,” Steve hummed as he pointed to a part of the sky, “You see that star there?”

Billy shook his head ‘no’ and felt Steve’s arm loop around his waist, pulled their sides flush together, where it burned Billy through to his core. 

“It’s right there, see?” Steve pressed the side of their faces together, like he could get Billy to look exactly where he was, but his eyes had slid over to Steve’s face already. 

It’s hard to focus on anything but the warmth of Steve’s cheek on his own. Even harder when he turned his head, brushed his lips against Steve’s skin gently, slowly. Steve gave a quiet laugh when Billy finally reached up to cup his face and turn his head, sealed their mouths together while Steve was half mumbling about the constellations.

The chill of the upcoming season made Billy shiver, but it also could’ve been the slow and sweet way Steve kissed him.

♥️

They fell in love just as the leaves did in October.

And like the snow in December.

Another Christmas present, this time with even more meaning than the last.

Billy experienced a lot of firsts before he met Steve, but not love like this. He felt it in every kiss, every embrace, every look.

On New Years Eve, they kissed twelve times at midnight and Steve muttered, “I love you,” after the last one.

Billy will always deny that he cried, but he can still taste those salty midnight tears.

♥️

Thinking of Steve’s mismatched chocolate eyes, Billy bought one of those dumb little heart-shaped boxes of chocolates for his boyfriend on the 14th of February, months later. It’s small, not very expensive, even an ugly shade of pink, but it’s for his love and that’s all that mattered.

Steve’s eyes were as wide as his grin when Billy gave them to him later that day, his ‘thank you’ kiss even sweeter than the chocolates.

“You gonna be my Valentine, hm, pretty boy?” Billy smiled, soft and sweet and so unlike last year when he’d been burning up from the inside out for this boy.

His boy smiled back, something silly and just for Billy as he promised, “Forever, baby.”

Steve Harrington, his forever valentine.

Yeah, that did sound about right.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #soft and sweet #valentine's day #i hope your day is full of love #any and all types #bambiwrites

[harringroveera]

Billy: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Steve: I wrote you a poem, Billy!

Billy, tearing up: You did?

#harringrove #one ​valentines post for now #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #billy hargrove x steve harrington #incorrect harringrove quotes #harringroveera #harringrove textpost #incorrect billy hargrove quotes #incorrect steve harrington #steve x billy #steve harrington x billy hargrove

[dragonflylady77]

i know how i feel about you now

This fic is my present for @spaceofentropy for the Harringrove Corner discord server's valentine exchange (you can find the whole collection right here).

Find the fic on Ao3

Thank you @whenyouwishuponastar7 and @discodeviant for the chance, it was so much fun. <3

Without further ado, I present to you... LIMO DRIVER STEVE!!

Billy is back in Hawkins for Max and Lucas's wedding. He might have expected a limo to take them to the church. He wasn't prepared for the limo driver to be Steve Harrington...

“Billy, can you get the door? That should be the limo driver.”

Billy rolled his eyes. A fucking limo?! Was Susan for real?

As he made his way to the front door, Billy decided that he was surprised that a bumfuck town like Hawkins, Indiana, actually had a limo service.

He pulled on the stupid bowtie his sister was making him wear and straightened the jacket of his tuxedo, muttering about Max being lucky he loved her so much he let her use his hard-earned money to pay for the most ridiculous things for her wedding as he opened the door and froze.

Billy simultaneously thanked his lucky stars and wished for the ground to open and swallow him, for, on the front porch of the house he’s helped Susan buy after his dad had fucked off into the sunset, stood his high school crush and former kinda nemesis.

“Well, well, well, Harrington. Long time no see.” Billy couldn’t help the teasing lilt in his voice, dragging his eyes down the length of the man’s body then back up. The black suit and tie he was wearing looked on the cheap side but fit him rather well. His hair was a bit longer than it had been in high school and fuck, he looked good.

“H-Hargove. Hi.” Steve sounded as shocked as he looked, his hands visibly tightening over the driver’s cap he was holding.

Billy forced himself to move his eyes away from Steve’s fingers, instead dragging them to the beauty spots on his neck and hollered, “Maxine, your fancy ride is here!”. He ignored the chattering coming from the living room at his words, knowing Max had been ready to go for some time, despite Susan’s need to find something else that needed doing or fixing.

“Coming!” Max called out, and a moment later she appeared in the doorway, her long red hair plaited in an intricate way and decorated with little sparkling threads.

The ivory dress she was wearing was the one she had picked when she’d come visit Billy in Chicago for the weekend a few months back, and Billy knew it had sparked a long drawn out fight with Susan. Max had won, of course. There was no way she wanted to wear the dress her mother had worn for her wedding to Neil Hargrove and Billy would never fault her for that, traditions be damned.

Billy now knew way more about capped sleeves, sweetheart necklines and the appropriate amount of beading on a bodice that he ever expected or needed to know—wasn’t like he would ever need that knowledge for anything, being extremely gay as he was, but the resulting bonding with Max had been well worth the shopping expedition.

“I, um, I didn’t know you were back in town,” Steve said, bringing Billy’s attention back to him.

The smile stretching his mouth felt easy and he enjoyed the way Steve’s eyes widened. Billy resolved to find a moment to apologize to Steve for what had transpired between them in high school before the day was over. He had changed so much in the past decade, since getting free from under his father’s grip, and he needed to make amends.

“Oh, I’m here for the wedding. I live in Chicago.” Before he could say much more, Billy had to step out of the way so Max could walk out of the house, Susan close behind her. With a sigh, he locked the house while Steve followed the two women to the limo.

***

Steve drove them to Hawkins Presbyterian Church on autopilot, his mind still reeling and going through his interaction with Billy Hargrove.

He didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d got the booking for the Mayfield-Sinclair wedding but it certainly wasn’t to come face-to-face with the guy responsible for his bi awakening wearing a fucking tuxedo, looking like a fucking five-course meal.

As far as Steve or anyone else knew, Billy had high-tailed it back to California the second he’d graduated from high school. One day, Hargrove was walking across the stage in front of Steve, the next his Camaro had vanished in a cloud of dust. No one knew for sure where he’d gone, there had even been rumors his father may have put him in the ground but Sheriff Hopper had squashed those right quick.

Steve delivered his passengers to the church on time, then he parked the limo off to the side, dumped the stupid cap on the passenger seat, and fixed his hair as quickly as he could before following the last of the guests into the church. Lucas had made sure he had an invite but Steve didn’t feel overly comfortable joining the kids (who weren't really kids anymore) at the front of the church, behind family.

He was glad the Party were still friends, even with the Byers moving to California for a few years. He’d been there when Mrs Byers had become Mrs Hopper, right after Will and the other kids had graduated, but he didn’t feel like he was part of their group.

He found an empty row in the back and sat down. Times like these, he missed Robin. They always had the best time people-watching and making up stories about them. He was glad she’d got out, first a scholarship to college in Indianapolis then an internship in New York. She was living her best life, doing something important for some non-profit agency while he languished in Hawkins, driving a ridiculous car for people to make an entrance at events with. At least, he hadn’t ended up working that dead-end job for his father.

Steve’s introspections were cut short by the starting notes of a piano cover of All of Me by John Legend and he turned around. The doors opened and Jane walked in first, wearing a lavender colored dress, followed by Erica, in a similar outfit. Behind them stood Max and Billy, Max looking wonderful in her gown and Billy. Well…

Steve let himself stare. People would assume he was staring at the beautiful bride but his eyes never left her handsome brother. The tuxedo looked like it was made for him, the black pants hugging his thighs in a sinful way that made Steve’s pants feel a bit tighter. His hair was shorter now, darker too, and slicked back, his face with that three-day stubble that Steve was unexpectedly dying to feel against his skin.

Fuck. He willed his eyes shut but it didn’t work. The duo walked past Steve and he could have sworn Billy glanced at him as they did. The siblings finished their walk up the church aisle and Steve decided the back view was as enticing as the front.

If Billy was only there for the wedding, Steve would discreetly stare as much as he could and fill his spank bank.

***

Billy kept an eye on Steve during the reception to make sure he wasn’t leaving before they could have a little chat. He was sitting at a table towards the back of the church hall, with some people Billy didn’t recognize. Probably some of Susan’s workmates or something. He wondered why Steve wasn’t sitting at the same table as the Weird Kids Brigade.

The speeches had taken forever—Billy had kept his on the short side, but then each member of the Dork Squad had wanted to add anecdotes and fun stories about the happy couple. The food was nicer than Billy had expected and Max had punched him in the shoulder when he’d said as much, telling him to quit bitching about Hawkins.

The bridal couple had done the first dance, then he’d waltzed with Max while Lucas took a turn with Susan and now the dancing portion of the evening had finally started and Billy was free from any more obligations.

Time to find that pretty boy and get his groveling shoes on.

Billy slowly made his way to the table he’d seen Steve at but when he got there, there was no sign of him. The old biddy with the bad perm and too tight gold dress told him Steve had ducked out to check on the limo. Billy smiled as he thanked her and headed for the closest exit.

The car was easy to find, and Billy spotted Steve leaning against the side of it. Steve brought something up to his mouth and took a drag out of it. The cloud from the vape billowed around Steve and Billy had never felt jealous of an inanimate object before—it was a weird feeling.

“Those things can kill you, you know, pretty boy” he called out as he walked closer, feeling Steve’s eyes on him again and liking it. A lot.

Steve chuckled and Billy wanted to kiss him on his stupid mouth and eat the chuckle from his lips.

“About as much as those Marlboro Reds you were always sucking on in high school,” Steve said, shaking his head as Billy came to a stop a foot away from him.

“Well, yanno,” Billy started, leaning against the car next to Steve, and bumping shoulders with him.

Steve offered him the vape and when Billy shook his head, Steve shrugged and took another inhale.

“Sucking on Reds was always less likely to get me beaten to death by my old man than sucking on dick was,” Billy said, stifling a laugh when Steve choked on his mouthful of air. He patted Steve’s back a couple of times until the coughing died down.

“Jesus, Hargrove, warn a guy.”

“Sorry, man, I thought you knew.”

“That you were gay or that your dad was an asshole?”

Billy shrugged. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore. “Either. Both.”

He turned his head to look at Steve and found him staring. “What?”

“Nothing. I…” Steve shook his head and stopped talking.

Billy took it as his cue. “Anyway, I wanted to apologize to you. For how I was in high school. My home life was shit and I took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Billy.” Steve put his vape back in his jacket pocket and looked down at his shoes. “Max, um, Max told the kids about how bad things were for you back then.”

“Yeah?” Billy was surprised Max had been willing to open up that much with so many people, but he guessed she’d probably told Jane and Lucas and it had spread from there.

“It was, um, once your dad had left. Once they figured he wasn’t coming back, I mean.”

It had taken a few years and a lot of therapy for Billy to get over being abandoned by another parent, even if Neil barely deserved the title. Then a lot of coaxing by Max for Billy to try and build some kind of a relationship with Susan. It had worked and they were family now. But he wasn’t about to tell Steve that. He’d come to apologize and he’d done that.

Billy rubbed a hand over his face then looked up at the sky, wondering how different life could have been if he had stayed. He wouldn’t be earning as much as he was currently as a sports agent in Chicago, that was for sure, but maybe he wouldn’t feel so lonely all the time.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice was soft and Billy felt a warm shoulder press against his. It felt nice.

“Yeah?” he whispered, keeping his eyes on the stars above them, leaning against the limo.

“Was that the only reason?” Steve moved closer and now they were touching from shoulder to hip. Billy dug his nails into the palm of his hands to stop himself from reaching out.

“What?” Billy stopped looking at the stars to look at Steve instead, confused.

“Was your dad being an asshole the only reason you were constantly riding my ass in high school?” Steve asked, that soft tone threatening to undo Billy’s composure faster than his choice of words.

Maybe it was time to tell the truth…

“No…”

“About that…” Steve reached out and slid his fingers between Billy’s and just like that, they were holding hands. Billy’s brain blue screened then rebooted when Steve moved to stand in front of him, Billy’s legs spreading without conscious thought on his part to accommodate Steve.

There was something in Steve’s brown eyes that kept Billy captive. Billy started to wonder if maybe it had always been there. He heard the words fall out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“I had a massive crush on you and I knew my dad would kill me if he found out. He moved us here from Cali after he figured out I liked guys and I couldn’t risk it, even if you hadn’t been straight.”

Steve moved his hands, fingers trailing up Billy’s arms until he could wrap them around Billy’s neck. “Meeting you made me realize I wasn’t as straight as I thought. It took me a while to work it out, and by then, you’d left Hawkins.”

“Pretty boy…” Billy’s brain was playing catch up but his body didn’t have the same problem as his hands gripped Steve’s hips and pulled him closer.

“Turns out you weren’t the only one with a massive crush…” Steve said, moving his left thigh between Billy’s legs and leaning forward.

Billy groaned at the sudden pressure on his crotch, his fingers tightening on Steve’s sides, eyelids fluttering when Steve’s mouth found his neck. “Fuck, Steve…”

“Such a mouth on you, still,” Steve said, his lips a mere inch away from Billy’s, then Billy’s brain whited out because Steve was kissing him.

It took Billy a few seconds to get with the program and start kissing Steve back, but then he was all in—hands roaming, thighs pressing, tongues tangling. Years of pining and yearning came crashing down on him and Billy was two seconds from shooting his load in his tuxedo pants when Steve ended the kiss.

Panting like they’d gone for a full quarter on the court, they stayed leaning on each other, the music from the party reaching them faintly. Billy started laughing when he recognized the song.

“Listen,” he said when Steve looked at him, a question in his eyes. Steve’s eyes crinkled when he heard the lyrics.

“Fitting…”

Can we bring yesterday back around?

'Cause I know how I feel about you now

I was dumb, I was wrong, I let you down

But I know how I feel about you now

“I’d say. Wanna get out of here, pretty boy?” Billy asked, one arm around Steve’s waist, his free hand sliding down to grab Steve’s ass. The moan that came out of Steve’s mouth was worth it.

“Yes. God. Fuck, yes, please.” Steve rested his forehead against Billy’s collarbone. His words were a bit muffled after that. “Take me away from this place, this town, this state.”

Billy laughed at how eager Steve was, then his words registered and he looked down. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry.” Steve sighed and lifted his head, avoiding eye contact. He looked dejected and lost, and it made something in Billy’s chest break. “Too much, too soon, sorry. Forget I said that. I’ll just… go home.” He attempted to take a step back but Billy moved both hands to cup Steve’s face and stop him in his tracks.

“Steven Middlename Harrington, I’ve been in love with you for literal years and now that I know you want me back, you really think I’m not gonna do everything in my power to make this work?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Billy dropped a kiss on Steve’s mouth but didn't linger. He dropped his hands to Steve’s waist again, fingers tracing along the waistband of Steve’s pants. “Do you have to drive anyone home tonight or are you free to go?”

“I’ve been done since we got here. That was my only booking today. The bridal party has arranged taxis to get home or wherever they’re headed so I could, and I quote, ‘party like it’s 1999’.”

Billy laughed at the look on Steve’s face when he used air quotes, and wondered which one of Max’s friends told him that. His money was on Henderson.

“So I have you all to myself?” he asked, feeling something warm unfurl inside his chest at the happy smile on Steve’s face.

“For as long as you want.” Steve toyed with the edges of Billy’s bowtie, his eyes dipping to Billy’s mouth then back up.

“What if I want forever?” He had to ask, okay?

Steve grinned, pulling on the ends of the bowtie and dragging it off Billy’s neck before shoving it in his pocket. “Please refer to my previous statement regarding taking me away from here.”

“Do you mean it?” Billy undid the top two buttons of his shirt, finally feeling like he could breathe properly and tangled a hand in Steve’s tie.

“Yes, Billy. I do. I love you. There’s nothing for me in Hawkins except memories and I’d rather make new ones with you.”

“Well, then, pretty boy…” Billy pulled Steve by his tie, his breath fanning on Steve’s plump bottom lip he couldn’t wait to nibble on. “Ever had sex in a limo?”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #valentine exchange #limo driver steve harrington #max mayfield #dragonflylady77 #billy hargrove in a tux

[pinkkinoko]

Any harringrove truthers amongst my followers?🤔

I mean who am I kidding, I know you’re in there🫵🏽

I was doing a quick warmup earlier and just realized how utterly tired I am, I might have to take a break today, I’m sorry😔 underestimated how much of a little guy I truly am

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #art #fanart #I’m sorry todays valentines drawing will have to be postponed

[spaceofentropy]

@dragonflylady77 wrote a fic for me for Valentine exchage we're both in, and you're gonna go and read it, okay? There's Billy, back in Hawkins for Max and Lucas' wedding. And there's a limo that will bring Max to the church. And most of all, there's a limo driver who is none other than Billy's old crush from high school, Steve Harrington.

Go. Read it. Show it some love. Do it for me.

I'll be in my corner crying happy tears, you just go and read a good fic!

#I'm seriously crying #it's not just a turn of phrase! #I SAID GO AND READ IT! #if you like harringrove of course #if not it's good. we're good. move along. #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #valentine exchange #harringrove fic rec

[strangerthingscharityzine]

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day- a celebration of love! We love love in all its forms, so we're choosing this day to officially launch the sales of the Stranger Things LGBTQ+ Charity Zine!

Check back with us tomorrow for a link to get your copy! The zine will be sent to you in digital form and all of the money that we raise from sales will be donated to Transgender Resource, Education and Enrichment Services- TREES, inc.

"We see a need to get quality transgender resources to rural communities in every state thus we strive to bring these resources and educational tools to small town America to enrich the lives of transgender people, their supporters and all communities." -TREES

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #ronance #steve harrington #jargyle #fruity four #robin buckley #elumax #byler is canon #harringrove #genderqueer steve harrington #platonic stobin #robin x chrissy #chrissy cunningham #valentines day #protect trans kids #lgbtq #lgbtq rights #love is love