Billy Hargrove X Gn!reader - Tumblr Posts

The Player and The Cheerleader

Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader Reader

Summary: All Billy thinks cheerleading is that's it's just flips and splits. The view changes when he has a run in with a certain Hawkins High School cheerleader.

...........................................................................

Billy didn't care for anyone by any means. Either it be in Indiana or California. If he doesn't see you as someone worth his time then he didn't talk to you or give you the time of day. One of those groups in specific were cheerleaders. From his point of view they were only pretty girls to look at, that's pretty much how everyone treated the cheerleader at this point. Pretty things to look at.

The cheerleaders sometimes had to share the gym with the basketball team. Which did peeve some the guys on the team but as long as the cheerleaders were pretty they could handle it. But there was one odd ball on the cheer team, the captain. Always mouthing off the players when they got to close to the cheerleaders or a ball got to close to hitting one of them.

"Hey! Shit for brains!" A voice can be heard from then other side of the gym. "I thought the point of the game was to get the ball in the basket?!"

"Jeezu..." Tommy huffed. "Can you seriously be pissed about the same thing every time? It's just a ball." He answered to you. Clearly tired of your constant shouting at the basketball team when a ball would go the wrong way.

"And it's just balls between your legs, and they can just as easily deflate." You sassed back. To Billy, it was almost comical to watch. You with the tough guy act, puffing up your chest to a dude way taller than you with colorful pompoms in each hand on your hips.

"What a bitch..." Tommy huffed again.

"Oh get over it." Billy snapped. "What's captain pompoms gonna do?" He laughed at his own statement. Like said before he found the whole conversation comical-

WHAM!

A basketball went flying right into Billy Hargroves head. He snapped his head around to see the who had the nerve to hit him. His eyes met with captain pompoms. The two had a stare off. That's what it felt like for the rest of practice. The two practically eyeing each other the entire time.

After that stunt was over, after constant staring at one another, Billy had only one reaction in mind. A big one.

The next day followed. Billy knew where he could cut you off and corner you, in-between Mr. Johnson's chemistry class and Mrs. Shoffer's English literature class. It happened fast no one could react to it, actually you doubt anyone saw it happen. What you thought was just another normal day of school turned out to be more than that. A harsh hold took your arm, taking you away from the crowd into the more secluded part of the hall. Where you came face to face with a fuming Billy. His jaw was clenched and eyes held anger.

"What, you think you're real funny for the shit you pulled yesterday?" He interrogated. "Try it again see what fuckin happens..." His threats did not stop. Well his empty threats. As much as you are terrified of what he could do, you knew he'd never act on them. Your brave front was standing strong. Taking in every threat, comment, and remark he could throw at you. To get a reaction, if you were a guy you would have answered with your fists at his first remark. But you are not. You are you. You knew the exact thing that would make him even more angry.

" You are nothing but scuff on the gym floor, and that's all you will be."

Billy did not like that one bit. Who does this bitch think she is? His fist rose into the air, readying to strike. The force came down, you felt the air brush past your face, to only make contact with a metal locker. The sound ricocheted through the hall.

You open up your eyes. Now, again, staring at him. Anger was not held in his eyes anymore. If was fear and sadness, to you it was peculiar expression to see on his face. The actions that just happened finally caught up to you, you inhale deeply not knowing you stopped breathing. Everything caught up to you.

SLAP! Your hand came down, striking Billy Hargrove in the face. Hard enough to leave a mark. Not knowing that one had just been healed from another hand. "What the hell is your problem?" You yelled, agitated. "God, you fuckin creep." You make your way back to your class leaving Billy stunned. He didn't know what to do. He has never had someone react to him like that before. It intrigued him. He had an interest in you now.

After that encounter Billy made it his mission yo agitate you as much as possible. I mean, how else are you supposed to show someone you like them. From poking you with a pencil in class, purposefully missing the hoop so the ball bounces into your direction, anything at all just so you could look at him. He was succeeding and he was royally pissing you off. Until on fateful autumn day, everyone had gone home for the day. Except for the extracurriculars that took place after school. Two of those being basketball and cheer practice. Just as the practices were about to start, Billy took notice that you weren't with the cheer team. Which he thought was odd, but instead he chose to go smoke a cigarette before practice. He made his way to the small alley like way that was outside the gym that lead to the track field. And the sight before him made him stop in his tracks. there you stood cheer practice outfit and all with a lit cigarette hanging from your lip.

"I thought cheerleaders didn't smoke?" Billy joked to you, giving you his famous smirk.

"And I thought shit stayed in toilets, but I guess I was wrong since you're here." You said taking a huff of your cig.

"Damn, always ready with a comeback are you?" Billy said, lighting his cigarette.

"Why are you messing with me Hargrove?"

"Ouch, last name basis now sweets?"

"Shut up." You won't deny it, that dumb nickname that he started calling you grew on you. "Is this because of me smacking you?"

"No."

"Was it me hitting you with a basketball?"

"No." He said blankly again.

"Then what is it?"

Billy took a huff of his cigarette then looked you in your eyes. No hate or anger, something you can only describe as adoration.

"I find you interesting." Was his only answer.

"What?" you were confused by this answer. What was so interesting about you that made Billy intrigued. " Your like curious about me or something?"

"Exactly."

"You know curiosity killed the cat, Hargrove." You sassed.

"And satisfaction brought it back, and I am not satisfied yet so get used to me sweets." He said taking his cig a stomping it out onto the ground walking away.

You grumbled at his response, inhaling the last of your cigarette with blushing cheeks. Stomping out your cigarette then making your way into practice. 'Why does this asswipe make me blush'.

...........................................................................

Weeks of this teasing have gone by. Everyday Billy would find a new way to make you mad, blush, or embarrassed to get a reaction out of you. He claimed "It's because you so cute." Which made you blush even more. Gosh, you couldn't stand half of the guys at this school. Why was Billy the only one making you feel this way?

Truth be told, Billy had seen you around way before he had met you. How you walk down the hall with your head held high, looking away in disgust at the "popular" kids, over all not conforming to what a cheerleader is by Hawkins view point. You fought, yelled, got in people faces. Billy love all of it, it made him excited. Excited to talk to you and ask you questions, even ones you deem are stupid. All he wanted to do was to be around you. Damn, he loved it in a way.

Practice had ended for the day leading off into the weekend. A light rain pour had come down, everyone else had a ride to get them home. Everyone except you, well you did but he was running very late. Billy made his way outside to find you standing in the walk way waiting to be picked up. Cigarette hanging from your mouth.

"What are you doing here?" Billy asked.

"Waiting." You simply put.

"Do you want a ride?" He asked.

"No, I have a ride." You said. "But he's running late."

"What your boyfriend?" Billy said, the words had jealousy behind them.

"No." You sighed. "My brother you dipshit."

"oh..." He sighed. A silence fell between you two. Not uncomfortable, but nice enough for you two to be around each other. But Billy had something building in his stomach, a nervous feeling. He hated it. He needed to tell you something.

"Hey." He called to you, you turn your head to face him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened."

"What?" You were confused by what he just said.

"I said I'm sorry, did you not hear me?" Billy said, He turned his body to face you. "I said I'm sorry." You just stood there silent. Still taking in the fact he is saying sorry. "I'm sorry that I almost punched you into a locker. I realized I was acting like someone I didn't want to be, and you calling me on my shit. It made me look at you differently. I noticed more about you. How you always make sure the other cheerleaders are okay, how you genuinely care about the people you have around you, and you don't take any shit. And- shit I'm bad at this." He's now embarrassed by everything he just said. Heat rises to his cheeks and ears.

You step toward him, placing your hand on his arm. "I thought you were doing pretty well." You smiled, comforting him in a way. He just looked at you. You never smiled at him directly but now that your smile was intended for him. 'damn' He wants you to smile at him all the time.

"Do you want to go on a date?" He asked straight out. You were shocked by his forwardness, but not entirely surprised.

"You want to go on a date with me?"

"Hell yeah, why wouldn't I?" He made it seem like you were speaking a different language. "Listen one date is all I ask, her if you still think I'm a piece of shit I'll stop everything that I'm doing."

Your smile grew even wider. "I would love to go on a date with you Billy."

"Dang, back on first name basis already? Looks like I'm getting a second date already." He joked to you, in turn caused you to laugh.

For the remainder of your time you and Billy talked till you had been picked up. You both talked about anything and everything. It was pure bliss, you loved every second of it. You both were abruptly interrupted by the honking of your brothers car.mYou said your goodbyes to make your way to the car. The smile that held your face did not drop. I didn't drop on Billy's either, when getting home Max found it incredibly disturbing to see her step brother so giddy.

That following night Billy arrived to your house to take you on your promised date. Which one date turned into another and another and another. Till it reached throughout the whole school that Billy Hargrove and the cheer captain were finally official. With many guys questioning Billy as to why he picked you out of everyone, to which he said if they insulted you again he had no problem with dealing with them himself. Girls just snuffed their noses up to you since you now made Billy officially off the market. Not like you cared, he's your boyfriend now and you have him all to yourself. So you could say everything did work out in the end. You and Billy have each other.

"So I guess we have Tommy to thank since he is the reason we met?" You joked.

"Hell no, I would have went after you even if you didn't hit me with that basket ball." He smirk.

"Jeez, you are something Billy." You smiled, leaning into him to seal your lips in a kiss. Yeah, nothing could beat this.

..........................................................................

gosh i want billy to manhandle me with his big strong arms :(

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33