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Harringrove Winter Bingo 2025
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Published:
2025-04-01
Words:
2,357
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
34
Kudos:
161
Bookmarks:
26
Hits:
1,082

The Steve Harrington Problem

Summary:

For Harringrove Winter Bingo A2: Oh, oh.

Billy doesn’t do mushy shit like daydream about holding hands or stroking his fingers through Steve’s famous hair while they cuddle on the sof- and oh god, he HAS been thinking about this hasn’t he?

Billy’s lost his goddamn mind over a straight guy in Indi-fuckin-ana.

Notes:

For Harringrove Winter Bingo A2: Oh, oh.

I finished this after a longass work day on 2 hours sleep and honestly couldn't cope with reading it over. If you see wild issues before I check it over on a saner mind please let me know!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

At first, Billy thought being friendly with Harrington would help. Maybe if he was closer to the guy he’d find a flaw, find something deeply unappealing hidden inside the much too pretty package that is Steve Harrington. Billy would try just about anything to help him get over the ridiculous infatuation he has with the other boy.

Billy had only been in town for a week, but he’d heard the gossip, knew Harrington had recently been dumped and lost his friends too; Billy actually felt a bit sorry for the guy watching him mope on his table of one in the cafeteria every day. So, in the end Billy made a plan and reached out. Friends. Billy could be a good friend, a very good, very platonic friend.

Only, Billy very quickly encountered a couple of problems with his plan of being friends with Harrington. See, Harrington is lonely, and Harrington is fucking clingy. All it took was for Billy’s usual glares turning into tentative smiles, his shoves in basketball replaced with more friendly banter and suddenly Billy couldn’t shake the guy if he tried.

At all times of the day Harrington would find him, he’d hang out by Billy’s locker, wait at the door of Billy’s classes, mooch around by the Camaro at final bell and once even turned up at Cherry Lane at 10pm on a fucking Sunday because he was bored.

In a matter of weeks all of Billy’s spare time becomes Harrington’s time and it would be fine, really, but the pesky little crush just isn’t fading as quickly as Billy had planned.

Harrington is just sweet and Billy can’t help but blush when the guy’s face lights up like the damn fourth of July anytime Billy agrees to hang out. Can’t stop his pulse racing at the sight of big, brown eyes shining with tears as apparently Harrington gets giggly when he’s high. Harrington flutters around Billy when they hang, always making sure his drink is topped up, gives Billy the best slices of pizza, he buys him snacks and little trinkets he finds that he thought Billy would like. Harrington made him a mixtape for Christmas which Billy may or may not have listened to far too many times. Billy feels fucking cherished alright?

Harrington is kinda bitchy too, in just the way Billy likes. They can spend hours dicking around in his pool talking shit on everyone they go to high school with. Harrington has the good gossip too, having been the one to grow up here and all and has no qualms in gleefully telling Billy about the time that Hagan got caught fooling around on Carol and the almighty shit storm that followed. He has no problems with giving Billy shit either, gets all haughty and tells him in no uncertain terms to - ‘stop calling me Harrington dickwad, you sound like an asshole.’

Billy soon discovered yet another Har-Steve problem in that Steve is awfully…touchy. It’s like he realised Billy is sticking around and now it seems Steve can’t keep his fucking hands to himself. Steve will sling an arm around Billy’s shoulders in the hallway at school, will nestle up close until their thighs are pressed together on the sofa during movie night and fucking hugs are something they do now apparently. Hello hugs, goodbye hugs, thanks for picking up dinner hugs. Steve will pull Billy into his arms and squeeze for any reason he deems fit, and this is something that Billy is just supposed to be normal about.

So, yeah, plan one. Failure. Billy’s crush has not only faded away, its fucking bursting at the seams, itching for him to do something incredibly stupid like kiss Steve on his stupid plush, kissable lips.

જ⁀➴

Time starts to morph and shift in a way it didn’t before Billy became friends with Steve, it feels like he blinked and Winter gave way to Spring and he’s been Steve’s friend for months. Best friends, Steve declared one random night in March, pushing Billy into the pool in retaliation to his snarking about friendship bracelets in an effort to hide his crimson face. Billy glared at Steve as he cackled on the deck, not moving a finger to help him of course.

Christ, Billy is in love with an asshole. And wait…Billy blinks as his whole body jolts as if he’s been shocked when he realises… what? He loves him? Oh Jesus Christ of course he does, he’s fucking fallen in love with Steve. Obviously only Billy could end up being this monumentally stupid.

The crush was bad enough but this, this is bad, like yeah Billy has had ‘feelings’ for other guys before but it’s usually more of a lust based thing, not this mushy shit. Billy doesn’t do mushy shit like daydream about holding hands or stroking his fingers through Steve’s famous hair while they cuddle on the sof- and oh god, he HAS been thinking about this hasn’t he? Billy’s lost his goddamn mind over a straight guy in Indi-fuckin-ana.

“Hey, Bill are you alright man?” Steve’s voice pierces the silence, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Billy opens his mouth to respond but only manages to choke out a strangled sort of noise. His mouth is too dry, he can’t stop his hands from shaking and Steve is just staring at him. He stumbles back when Steve presses forward, Billy can’t quite catch his breath and the pain in his chest is screaming alongside the voice in his head. Billy takes another step back and gravity goes a little funny for a second until he realises, and oh, he’s falling. His body hits the surface of the water with a smack, and he can’t seem to move a muscle to help himself as he goes under; Billy thinks kind of hysterically that this is a fine way to die, preferable to Neil sniffing out his stupid feelings and finishing the job for him anyway.

Distantly, Billy hears a splash as two strong hands grasp under his arms and start pulling him up towards the surface, he gasps in a breath as he’s hauled up against the side of the pool and now his head is a little clearer he can only feel one thing, pure burning mortification. He used to surf for fuck’ sake and he just nearly drowned in 6ft of water, he was a lifeguard and Billy’s pretty sure not drowning would be rule number one in the handbook if they made one. And all of this in front of Steve, the boy he’s just realised he’s in love with, honestly, the bottom of the pool is looking more inviting by the second.

Billy’s broken out of his morbid musings by hands cupping his cheeks, long fingers brushing his wet curls behind his ears; Billy closes his eyes, he can’t possibly look at Steve right now, but then the nice, gentle hands are suddenly less nice as they deliver a sharp slap to Billy’s cheek.

“Billy, what the fuck was that?” Steve sounds frantic and really, fuck him, this is all his fault anyway in Billy’s opinion, “Are you okay, do I need to like take you to hospital?”

The mention of the hospital has Billy snapping back to reality real fucking fast, he coughs bringing up a mouthful of pool water – which gross Steve probably pees in there, he’s disgusting like that sometimes – and manages to croak out "No, ‘m fine lemme up,” his voice cracks embarrassingly and for the third time in however many minutes, Billy wishes for the sweet release of death; he needs to get out of here.

Billy pushes Steve’s hands away and pulls himself to his feet, swaying slightly as his head swims but fuck that he needs to leave. He can hear Steve following behind, babbling in the way he does when he’s panicking but Billy ignores him; he knows he looks batshit right now, crazy eyed, bare footed and soaked to the bone in wet denim, barrelling through Steve’s ridiculous mansion like a man on a mission but Billy has thankfully reached acceptance on his mortification journey.

Mourning the lack of seat covers in the Camaro Billy starts mentally preparing his new plan, avoid Steve Harrington at all costs. His first plan was a bust but that’s okay he thinks, not every plan is a winner he’s just gotta put all his focus into this new one. He was an idiot anyway it will be so much easier to not be in love with Steve if he doesn’t actually have to see big bambi eyes every second of the da-

“BILLY!” Steve shouts, somehow having managed to manhandle Billy into the door he was trying to escape through, “Fucking talk to me asshole, where the fuck are you going?!”

Steve looks angry now, good Billy thinks, arguing is good. Good first step on his shiny new plan. He shakes his shoulders out, schooling his face into a flat glare he drawls in the most bored voice he can manage, “Hey, St-Harrington. Take your fucking hands off me before I make you, yeah?”

Steve just stares at him in his usual doe eyed, confused way, “Are you really that pissed I pushed you in the pool? It was just a joke Bill, I didn’t know you’d… whatever the fuck happened back there.”

“Are you fucking stupid Harrington?” Billy yells, he’s got to sell this, make it stick, “I’m just sick of pretending to be your friend and tonight was the last straw. Best friends? Fucking bullshit more like!” Billy winces as he watches that last one hit Steve like a truck, he feels like the shittiest person who ever lived, he can feel all the poison Neil helped nurture inside of him, watches as it spills out all over Steve’s beautiful face.

This is for the best Billy thinks, he was never worthy of being Steve’s friend never mind being in love with him for Christ’s sake, he can hurt Steve now and avoid him being consumed by Billy’s poison later down the road when it would only hurt more.

“Okay.” Steve is calm, much too calm. He’s still gripping Billy’s shoulders, his eyes searching Billy’s face with an intensity that makes him squirm, “So, lets put to one side for now the bullshit you just said to me, why the fuck are you lying? Because we both know you’re lying right? So, tell me the truth Billy.”

Billy bristles at the implication that he’s lying (he is) and at the way Steve is talking to him like he’s a toddler having a hissy fit (again, he is). He’s pissed, this is not going the way he planned and he’s floundering for a response now that Steve’s seen past his bullshit, and how the fuck did he do that anyway?

“Anytime today, Bill.” Steve says, stern, like a fucking schoolteacher. “Why are you lying to me?”

Billy has always hated being backed into a corner with no way out, he tears himself out of Steve’s grip, his common sense lost to the red haze that has descended as he hears himself shout, “Because I fucking LOVE you Steve, for fuck sake, I’m an idiot and a fucking queer and I didn’t mean to god, but I just realised that I’m in love with you alright, so fuck off and leave me alone!”

Billy is getting real sick of loaded silences tonight, his heaving breaths the only sound cutting through the fallout of his horrible, awful confession.

“Oh.” Steve breathes, “Oh.”

“Yeah. So, am I free to go now Harrington or did you want to get a hit in first?” Billy sighs, all the bravado he built up long gone, leaving him feeling stupid and ashamed and he just wants to go home. He supposes his plan worked; there’s no way Steve will come anywhere near him now.

Taking Steve’s continued silence as Billy’s request granted, he turns to leave, Billy hasn’t looked at Steve since his outburst so when the guy lunges to grab Billy’s arm he can’t help the full body flinch that rolls through him. Billy clenches his eyes shut at the feeling, he can’t bear to see the look of disgust in Steve’s eyes as he gives him a bruise that Billy will for once, deserve.

“I fucking told you not to call me Harrington dickhead.”

Bracing for pain, Billy’s head reels when instead the hand that touches his cheek is gentle. He refuses to open his eyes, shuts them tighter even; he’s not sure what kind of trick Steve is playing here but he doesn’t have to see it. Over the sound of the blood roaring in Billy’s ears he hears Steve huff out a fond sounding ’Dumbass.’ and then Steve’s kissing him.

Steve is kissing him and maybe Billy is actually dead at the bottom of the Harrington pool because he can’t possibly be expected to keep his head during whatever is happening here.

“Kiss me back asshole. I’m so fuckin’ pissed at you, Jesus Christ Billy,” Steve murmurs between more soft kisses pressed to Billy’s lips. “Gunna let you drown next time, fuckin’ scaring me like this.”

Despite himself, Billy snorts nervously against Steve’s mouth, “I’m getting some kinda mixed messages here Steve, I don’t really know what’s going on? You’re kissing me?”

Steve pulls back an inch, cups his hands around Billy’s stupid sticky out ears that he always teases him for, “Come on Bill, you’re the smart one here. I’ve been basically throwing myself at you for months, I made you a mixtape idiot.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Steve mocks, “So, full disclosure I’m totally going to yell at you later, but I love you too and if you don’t kiss me back right goddamn now, I swear to god Billy I’m going t-”

So he complies, kisses Steve hard just like Billy’s always wanted to, and hearing the way Steve whimpers into the kiss Billy formulates his final plan in which he shouldn't run into any problems; Love the fuck out of Steve Harrington.

જ⁀➴

Notes:

Comments and Kudos are always deeply appreciated! <3