Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Robin’s POV: 

The parking lot buzzed with chatter and laughter as students killed time before the bell.

“I’m just saying, objectively, I look better than those metalhead pricks,” Steve declared, gesturing at himself like he was on stage, showing off dramatics that had rubbed off on him from being in close proximity with Munson for too long. Steve’s leather jacket creaked from the gesture against the side of the car.

Robin didn’t even glance up from the passenger mirror. “You mean Munson. Again.”

Steve made a face. “Don’t say his name. He always seems to sense it. He might just pop out of a bush.” 

“Oh please,” Robin rolled her eyes “You have had every class with him since pre-school, you’re practically married now.” 

Steve gave her a horrified look.

“Yeah, well, if he’s my husband, I want a divorce. And his guitar.” 

Suddenly across the lot – as if summoned– Eddie Munson laughed too loud at something one of his friends said while perched on the hood of a car. Steve scowled at the sight bristling like a cat as if it was a personal attack to see Munson enjoying life.

Robin smirked. “You know sometimes I think the only reason you two haven’t killed each other yet is because you both realized you were both Friends of Dorothy before you even hit puberty.

“No need to bring that up.” Steve grumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched. She knew she wasn’t wrong. Munson might have been annoying, but if anyone came for Steve, Munson would swing first. Always had. And the same vice versa. Half the fights Steve had gotten into were from someone getting too cocky and trying to have a go at Munson. It was one of the things that drew her to him.

But before Robin could tease him any further, tires squealed. A Camaro roared into the lot, drowning out the chatter with screaming guitar. Steve’s jaw clenched at the music.

“Oh not another one,” He groaned, barely audible over the music. But Robin did hear and snickered at his plight.

Then the driver stepped out.

Blonde mullet, cigarette hanging from his lips, blood red shirt buttoned indecently low. And to top it off jeans so tight they almost looked to be painted on. 

The passenger door slammed, and a little redhead dropped a skateboard and took off toward the middle school.

Robin turned back just in time to catch Steve frozen mid-stare, wide-eyed and slack jawed.

“Steve? You OD over there?” 

He blinked, ripping his eyes away. “What? No, I’m fine.” His voice cracked just enough to betray him. Under his breath she could hear him mutter “Just dandy. Lovely. Fantastic even.”  

Robin bit her lip to keep from laughing.

Steve groaned, grabbing their bags from the car, “Time to face the masses!” he exclaimed with faux enthusiasm. Slinging an arm over her shoulder he dragged her toward the school.

_________________________________________________________

Steve’s POV: 

The bell rang, dragging him into another day of Warrens class. He slouched into his usual seat in the back, notebook open, pencil scratching out teeth and claws.

A chair scraped to his left. Eddie Munson dropped down into it, spinning to face him with a grin already plastered on his face.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite punk princess. How’s your mascara eyeliner holding up?” 

Steve didn’t even look up. “Bite me.”

“Tempting.” Eddie muttered, kicking the leg of Steve’s chair.

Mrs. Warren swept in, books tucked under one arm. “Quiet down. We’ve got a transfer.” 

Then the Blonde from the parking lot stepped in. Smirking, and his golden hair seemingly glowing under the shitty fluorescent lights.

“My name’s William Hargrove, but you can call me Billy.” He winked out at the class making the girls giggle.

“Take the empty seat next to Harrington,” Mrs. Warren instructed, her mouth curling around the name like it tasted sour.

Steve noticed Eddie gritting his teeth and glaring at the teacher. Steve kicked his chair leg making Eddie jerk to look at him. Steve gave his best ‘cut it out’ look and Eddie rolled his eyes but stopped glaring. 

Steve raised a hand half-heartedly and Billy’s heavy footsteps closed in a half second later. Steve tried not to look, but curiosity won. Blue eyes like the ocean locked onto his. The moment definitely stretched for longer than it should have yet his brain only supplied one word. 

Pretty.

And then – much to his horror – Eddie noticed.

Whipping to face Eddie he watched as a devilish grin slowly spread across Eddie’s face as he looked at Steve then subtly at Hargrove.

“Ohhh,” He whispered under his breath, loud enough for only Steve to hear. “Oh, this is delicious.” 

Steve elbowed him in the ribs. Eddie wheezed, still delighted. 

Billy sat, smirk not fading. 

Mrs. Warren started droning, but Eddie wouldn’t shut up – little hums, fake coughs, mouthing loverboy everytime Billy so much as shifted. 

Patience. All he needed was patience. 

…Steve snapped. 

He grabbed a fistful of Eddie’s curls and yanked. 

Seeing this Mrs. Warren sighed out an exhausted “Not again.” 

Then pandemonium. 

“HEY!” Eddie squawked, swinging back in retaliation, and suddenly chairs screeched, desks being shoved away with Eddie's body after Steve basically threw him. The two of them eventually were wrestling on the floor like brothers fighting over the remote. Steve shoved Eddie again, hard, and Eddie reached out and snagged Steved jacket dragging him down with him, knocking them into the row of desks that students scrambled to get out of the way of.

“Knock it off!” Mrs. Warren barked. 

They ignored her. 

By the time anyone got enough courage to get close, Steve had Eddie half in a headlock and Eddie was kicking out wildly, both of them grinning probably looking like psycho’s. Desks rattled and notebooks hit the floor, the back half of the class long since evacuated. 

In the end it took five guys – and the new guy – to finally get hands on Steve.Even then, he fought like hell, twisting and shoving, dragging all of them with him a step before they managed to pin him in place. His chest heaved still grinning a bloody smile – thanks to the elbow he took to the nose–.

 Eddie was wrangled by two, still cackling, hair sticking up in every direction, nose also bleeding due to Steve headbutting him. “Totally worth it,” He wheezed.

Steve rolled his eyes and then looked up.

Straight into blue.

Hargrove’s hands were on his shoulders, steady, firm. Their faces were close enough for Steve to catch the faint smell of smoke and cologne clinging to him. Hargrove didn’t flinch away from his bloody smile and too wild eyes. Just smirked at him lazily and held his gaze. 

Steve jerked his head to the side and noticed Eddie was no longer laughing and was now looking annoyed at the guys refusing to release him. 

Annnd that was enough. 

Turning away from that and back up he didn’t let his feral grin drop even though slightly annoyed now and just winked at Hargrove before throwing himself back he twisted, throwing two of the guys off his arms, slamming one over his shoulder, and kicking another’s legs out. Gasps erupted and the last two holding him let go fast.

Steve straightened to full height, jacket sliding back into place, chest heaving. He didn’t break eye contact with Hargrove.

“Let him go,” he said, voice calm but carrying, chin jerking toward Eddie.

The boys holding Eddie dropped him like he was on fire.

The bell signaling the end of class rang. Steve bent, grabbed his and Eddie’s things, then hurled Eddie’s bag straight into his face. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

Eddie laughed, blood on his teeth, and let Steve drag him out by the scruff of his jacket like nothing had happened.

Billy’s POV:  

The rest of the class surged out in a noisy rush.  

Billy stayed where he was, leaning back in his chair, smirk still tugging at his mouth, eyes fixed on the back of Harrington until the door finally swung shut behind him.  

“Hawkins might not be so boring after all,” he hummed under his breath.  

When he bent to grab his things, something under a fallen desk caught his eye.

A sketch.

A grotesque flower-shaped monster, its gaping maw ringed with teeth. The details were vicious, obsessed—lines dug so deep the paper nearly tore.  

“The hell…?” Billy muttered, staring down at it before shoving it into his bag. 

He glanced once more at the empty doorway, then slung the strap over his shoulder and walked out with a grin.

Chapter Text

Steve’s POV: 

The hallway was a mess of voices and slamming lockers. Steve leaned against Robin’s, waiting, but of course Eddie had almost instantly appeared. Now lounging like a stray cat who found a warm patch of sun, Eddie stretched his arms over his head before leaning on someone’s locker. Steve noted with glee that Eddie’s nose was still a little red from the fight earlier, yet the grin on his face was still as infuriating as usual.

“Princess Harrington,” Eddie drawled, “you’ve been awfully quiet since class. Cat got your tongue? Or was it the new guy, hmm?”

Steve stiffened. “Don’t start.” 

Eddie smirked, leaning closer like a shark scenting blood. “Golden blond hair, pretty blue eyes, tight jeans – come on, Stevie. But– if you’re not interested, I might be. Guy’s pretty hot.”

Steve’s head snapped around so fast his neck cracked. “What!?”

“Whar?” Eddie said innocently, clearly delighted. “We might not know him yet. But. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the view. Or are you saying you don’t?”

“You’re disgusting,” Steve muttered, but his stomach twisted. “Just shut the hell up.”

“Ohhh,” Eddie said, wiggling his raised brows before grinning wider. “So you did enjoy the view, hmm?” 

Before Steve could throttle him, Robin appeared, opening her locker and tossing her things inside before slamming it shut hard enough to make them both jump. She eyed them like a disappointed mother. “Do I even want to know?”

“No,” Steve said immediately.

“Yes,” Eddie countered at the same time, practically glowing with smugness. “Our boy here’s got himself a crush.”

Robin narrowed her eyes. Steve could feel he was now red to the tips of his ears, and Eddie was cracking up about the situation. Steve knew Robin knew they’d spend all lunch listening to their nonsense. With a sigh, Robin hooked her arms through theirs. “Lunch. Now. I don’t want to spend it in these halls.”

Robin’s POV: 

They climbed to the top of the bleachers with their lunches, Robin bodily between them to avoid the inevitable fights that came when the two were in close proximity for too long. Steve poked at his food as if confirming it was actually dead, while Eddie dabbed a wet napkin at a bloodstain on his collar, still grinning like a weirdo.

“Seriously,” Robin said, glaring at the both of them. “I can’t leave you two alone together for five seconds without one or both of you drawing blood.”

“Hey, I was the victim,” Eddie said cheerfully. “Steve’s the one who went feral.” 

Steve scoffed. “You’re fine. Still breathing, and regrettably, still able to speak.”

Robin sighed. “Unbeliveable. It’s like babysitting toddlers.”

Eddie leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “All I was saying is that the new guy’s easy on the eyes. But if Steve so strongly disagrees,” Eddie shrugs “I certainly wouldn’t mind-” 

A grape bounced off his forehead. 

Steve’s glare promised hellfire. “Shut. Up.”

Robin nearly spat out her sandwich laughing. “Oh my god. You’re totally jealous.”

“I am not jealous!” Steve snapped out, face heating.

“You’re jealous,” Eddie sang, in a sing-song voice dragging it out. “Blondie’s not even unpacked his bags yet and you’ve already staked a claim.”

Steve groaned and shoved Eddie’s shoulder, but under it all, his stomach was still twisted. Because Eddie wasn’t wrong. And the thought of Billy Hargrove looking at anyone else — especially Eddie — made him feel crazier than he ever had felt before.

Steve’s POV:

The bell rang, saving him from more of Eddie’s torment. Robin stood, brushing crumbs off her jeans. “Try not to get detention today, alright? Some of us need a social life.”

“No promises,” Eddie said instantly.

Steve slung his bag over his shoulder and muttered, “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love me,” Eddie shot back.

Steve made a gagging noise. “Not in a million years.”

Robin just shook her head, following them back inside. Steve didn’t say a word, but his eyes still flicked through the crowd.

For blond hair. For blue eyes. For any sign of him.

Chapter Text

Billy’s POV:

7:00 a.m. 

The sound of a roaring engine cut through the silence of the deserted roads. For Whom the Bell Tolls blaring was the only thing he could hear as he made his way to his new school.

 “I can’t believe we were forced to come to this shithole of a town,” Billy muttered with a sneer and of course it all her fault he sent a glare at the redhead sitting next to him in the passenger seat If she could have just kept her mouth shut we wouldn’t have been forced to play happy family in the middle of nowhere.

Trying to release some tension he started to speed up the angrier he got. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Maxine starting to shoot him worried looks.

 Ignoring her he turned his music up to near deafening levels. 

As the needle to the speedometer was brushing seventy it changed from Metallica to Rock You Like A Hurricane. He looked over to the passenger seat and a sharp grin grew on his face at the fear on Maxine’s face. Just to be a dick he cranked the radio as loud as it could possibly go. 

Then the school came into view. 

And what a depressing sight it was. All amusement left him at once.

He hit the parking lot like a storm. The Camero fishtailed once before slamming into an open spot at the edge. The song wasn’t finished yet, so he left the engine running, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel while the guitars screamed their last note.

When the song ended, silence hit almost painfully loud. Billy reached for the rear view mirror, looking in it and twirling a lone curl into his face. Perfect. As always.

He killed the ignition and turned to Maxine. She’s already unbuckled, clutching her skateboard like a lifeline.

“You come straight back here after school,” he said, tone leaving no room for argument. “If you’re late, I’m leaving your ass to skate back to the house.”

Maxine glared defiantly for a moment and looked ready to argue before seeing the ‘Don’t fuck with me’ look on his face and just nodded.

 “Good.”

He shoved the door open and stepped out into the early morning sunlight. The air was colder than he was used to; his blood red shirt was half buttoned immediately letting the breeze in. He would not be changing his style because of this hellscape. He wouldn’t. But fuck it was cold.

He was just starting to scan the parking lot when he saw them. 

A girl and a guy near a pretty nice BMW. The girl had light brown hair with a seemingly natural smile on her face. She looked to be trying to hold in a laugh.

It was the guy who had caught Billy’s attention and stopped him cold.

He was wearing a leather jacket that was glinting with spikes and chains and torn jeans and black heavy duty boots. And as he turned his head, piercings glinted in the early light. His brown hair was messy and falling into amber eyes that caught the light in a way that seemed almost unnatural. Billy couldn’t look away.

The guy threw his head back before going into the car and grabbing what Billy assumes is their bags, before throwing his arm around the girl and walking towards the building.

Billy’s mouth twisted into a slight grimace. He slung his own bag over his shoulder “Figures,” he groans and heads over to the office to grab his schedule.

First Class

7;40 a.m.

Chatter and laughing sounds behind the door of his first class. The teacher makes – he didn’t bother to get her name– makes her way inside in front of him. 

For a moment Billy seriously considers if he could get away with skipping on his first day. Probably not without severe consequences. Letting out a sigh he follows behind her and the room immediately goes silent. Immediately he sees the boy from the parking lot sitting in the back, drawing from the looks of it next to him is a curly haired boy who is seemingly bothering his seatmate.

 The teacher's voice cuts through the anticipation. “Class, we have a new student today. Please introduce yourself.”

Billy grinned. “My name is William Hargrove but you can call me Billy.” he says with a wink towards the class making the girls giggle. 

“Take the empty seat next to Harrington.” The Teacher instructed, her mouth pinched tightly.

So that's his name. Harrington.

The guy from the back glared at the guy next to him. The guys chair jerked – likely from being kicked– and the guy whipped his head to face Harrington. They seemed to stare at each other for a second before the guy rolled his eyes. Harrington  raised his hand lazily without looking up.

Billy started toward the back, boots thudding against the tile. As he got closer, he noticed more details. Faint scars on Harrington’s hands and knuckles, one through his eyebrow like his piercing had been ripped out before. A few on his throat that looked like scratches from a fight.

Interesting.

Then amber eyes met his.

The moment stretched a moment too long but neither of them were quick to look away. Billy felt the corner of his mouth tug upward.

Then the curly haired one caught the moment.

A devilish grin spread across his face as he looked between the two of them like Christmas and Halloween had come early. Harrington elbowed him hard in the ribs. Curly wheezed but didn’t stop grinning.

Billy sat down and leaned back in his seat, smirking. The teacher was talking again, but he wasn’t paying any attention to her. Curly kept bothering Harrington, fake coughing, humming, mouthing something Billy didn’t quite catch every time Billy so much as shifted in his chair.

Billy didn’t say a word, just enjoyed the show.

He could see the exact moment Harrington’s patience cracked. Harrington's shoulders tensed even further. His jaw twitched and Billy could hear his teeth grind slightly. Billy saw him take a “calming” breath.

Then, in a blink of an eye he snapped.

Harrington’s hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of Curly’s hair and viciously yanked. 

The old crone at the front sighed in exhaustion. A muttered “Not again.” could barely be heard over the chaos as the room erupted.

“HEY!” Curly yelped, swinging back, and suddenly they were shoving each other and curly was being thrown into some desks, knocking them and chairs over. Harrington threw Curly like he weighed nothing – a move that seemed entirely too practiced – Curly retaliated by dragging Harrington down with him.

They hit the floor hard, wrestling and throwing each other around. Harrington shoved him and got an elbow to the ribs by a laughing Curly.

Harrington’s retaliating headbutt got Curly directly in the nose. Billy winced in sympathy as Curly’s eyes watered from the blow.

“Knock it off!” The teacher barked.

They didn’t. 

It didn’t even seem like the two had heard her.

Harrington now had taken an elbow to the face.

By the time anyone had the guts to step in, Harrington had Curly half in a headlock and were both grinning bloody smiles. Desks were tipped over and the back of the class was empty, long since vacated to avoid stray hits.

Billy couldn’t help but be impressed.

It took four guys to get hands on Harrington and slow him down. Even then, the guy fought like he was customly built for it, twisting, throwing, dragging all of the guys a step forward before Billy jumped in and they managed to pin him.

Billy grabbed his shoulders, studying him and planting his feet to brace in case Harrington tried to keep going. Harrington’s chest was heaving, blood running down from his nose, grin wild, bloody, and a little manic.

Those eyes met his again.

Billy was now close enough to catch the faint smell of blood tinged smoke and leather. 

Manic laughter came from where Curly had been wrangled. “Totally worth it,” cut through the laughter before it abruptly stopped.

Harrigton’s head immediately jerked to look in Curly’s direction. Billy was about to look as well when Harrigton’s head snapped back causing him to look directly into Billy’s eyes before Harrigton threw a wink at him.

Then proceeded to throw himself back knocking the guys holding him off balance causing his arms to be released. He then threw one over his shoulder and kicked another’s legs out from under them. The remaining two “holding him” snatched their hands back as if burned.

“Let him go,” Harrigton said sharply, looking at the guys still attached to Curly. The two dropped Curly and hurriedly stepped a few paces back.

The bell rang as Harrington walked over to their fallen desks. Billy followed and dropped into a surprisingly upright chair. He watched and Harrington grabbed their things and tossed one of the bags straight into Crazy’s face.

“Come on. I’m hungry.”

Crazy laughed again, blood on his teeth, and let Harrigton drag him out of the classroom without so much as a glance behind them.

The rest of the class surged out in a noisy rush.  

Billy stayed where he was, leaning back in his chair, smirk still tugging at his mouth, eyes fixed on the back of Harrington until the door finally swung shut behind him.  

“Hawkins might not be so boring after all,” he hummed under his breath.  

When he bent to grab his things, something under a fallen desk caught his eye.

A sketch.

A grotesque flower-shaped monster, its gaping maw ringed with teeth. The details were vicious, obsessed—lines dug so deep the paper nearly tore.  

“The hell…?” Billy muttered, staring down at it before shoving it into his bag. 

He glanced once more at the empty doorway, then slung the strap over his shoulder and walked out with a grin.