He'd been driving for almost an hour. Nowhere to go. No one to see. Still plenty of time to waste before he picked Dustin up after the dance. He expected that the kid might need some comforting on the way home. The little shit had confidence but kids his age could be mean. As he'd dropped him off, Steve had quietly known that he was potentially setting Dustin up for failure. He'd delivered the pep talk and insisted that it'd go great, all the while knowing that it would likely be one of the hardest experiences of the young boy's life. He didn't wish it on the kid, not at all. But kids his age were mean. Steve had been mean.
Despite his pessimism, however, part of Steve eagerly anticipated the moment that Dustin would get back into the car, if only for the slim possibility that the boy would be beaming with pride, ready to relay to him every wonderful detail of the night. Minute as the chance may have been, Steve needed that hope. He needed to think that there was a chance for a kid like Dustin to win. Later, he would pick the little dipshit up, fully prepared with a reassuring lie that things got easier as you got older. He just hoped he wouldn't have to use it. Until then, with nothing better to do, Steve would drive.
Nowhere to go. No one to see. Everyone in his social circle was at a middle school dance. The sad fact spoke volumes not only about his current position on the Hawkins social ladder but also how many rungs he'd fallen in the past year. No parties to attend, no gang of pseudo-friends to hang out with. He drove.
Eventually he found himself outside of a diner, hungry but apprehensive in entering. From the safety of his parked car his eyes scanned the booths through the window. Hawkins was a damn small town but there were some people that he made a conscious effort to avoid, especially if he was about to go buy a single helping of fast food to eat alone in his car. Some inconveniences were worth the effort.
Declaring the coast clear, he headed inside and ordered something with a lot of cheese on it. Each time the diner door opened, he tensed slightly, waiting to hear a gaggle of his peers enter and start ragging on him. They'd mock him for being alone on a Saturday night, no date, no friends. They'd laugh at him for waiting around for a thirteen year old to finish up at the God damn "Snow Ball", just to have someone to hang out with. They'd sneer at him and treat him like shit. It never happened. But every time the door opened, he waited for it.
He could've sat in the diner to eat his food. It would've been warm and bright. Yet he chose the car and the chill that came with it. He just listened to the radio and ate fries, wondering how much more pathetic he could get.
The sudden oncoming roar of a Camaro made him jump in his seat. He glanced in his rear view, already knowing what he was going to see. That God damn car.
It pulled up at the far end of the diner's parking lot. The engine was barely off when the driver's side door popped open and Billy stepped out, every inch of him dripping with bravado. Steve wondered for a moment if the boy ever stepped out of a car like a normal human being. He continued to watch through his rear view mirror as a second car pulled up next to the first, this one carrying four or five of his fellow seniors. Steve recognized them all. He recognized them as people he would have called his friends at one stage. He slid down in his seat and hoped they would go inside soon.
Though unlikely to garner much attention, Steve's paranoia forced him to switch off the radio. Sitting slumped in the silence, half a cheeseburger going cold on his lap, he decided that this was how much more pathetic he could get. He kept an eye on the side mirror and waited for the horde to go inside. He watched Billy shove his tongue down some girl's throat. He felt sorry for her.
They never looked in his direction. No one seemed to notice his car. After ten minutes he started feeling ridiculous and turned the radio back on, although he kept the volume down low.
After another ten minutes he began to just get angry. He sipped at his soda, now mostly melted ice, and listened to a never-ending trail of Christmas music. Though perhaps premature, the idea that he might die in the car was not beyond his fathom.
Finally sick of hearing "Baby, It's Cold Outside", Steve switched the radio off again and looked at his watch, ensuring that he still had time to collect Dustin. Just about. He let out a sigh of relief when he looked back to the mirror and saw the gang heading inside, the diner door just closing behind them. Ignoring the pain in his now stiff back, Steve sat up straight and turned the key.
There was no reaction from the car.
"No." He said simply, turning the key again.
Again, there was nothing.
"No. No. No, no, no, no, no!" He punched the dashboard and then cursed himself for the pain in his fist.
"Car trouble?"
The night continued it's track of increasingly pathetic moments.
Had his window been rolled down, Steve would've likely smelled Billy's ridiculous cologne before he'd had a chance to sneak up on him. Unfortunately this hadn't been the case and Steve now found himself trying very hard not to look out his window at who he knew stood there.
"Nope."
"I beg to differ. You've been sitting there for nearly thirty minutes, probably left the radio on, maybe even the heat too. Knowing you." There was a pause that Steve didn't enjoy. "Never would've occurred to you that that kind of thing might run a battery down."
Steve kept his eyes ahead of him and tried not to show any emotions.
"I'm fine."
"Yeah, sure you are." Another one of those pauses, always carefully placed. "Why don't you pop the hood?"
Surprised, Steve inadvertently looked to his window. He regretted it the minute he saw that damn smirk. Billy had his arm spread over the top of window and was staring in at him. Smug satisfaction incarnate.
"I don't need any help – "
"All I need is some jumper cables and I'll send you on your way." Billy interjected. "Come on. Are you really that stubborn, Harrington? You won't accept help from me? Why not?"
Steve bit his tongue, knowing that no answer was the only one likely to hurry Billy along. Never give in to him, that's what he wants.
"Alright." The other boy shrugged and stood up, giving Steve a window view of his crotch that was not needed. "Suit yourself."
Steve watched him turn and walk back to his car. As the Camaro pulled away and drove off, Steve realized that Billy never went into the diner.
Refusing to enter the diner himself, lest his classmates catch sight of him, Steve had no way of contacting anyone for help. He was conscious of the time and his promise to collect Dustin. With little option, he began walking.
It was deathly cold this time of year and it didn't take long for him to regret his decision. Most places were closed this time of night, he had no change for the payphone and he was nowhere near his house. He was even further from Dustin's. He could maybe make it to the Wheelers and use their phone but he didn't feel much like asking his ex's parents for help.
So he walked. Cold and alone.
Then there was the roar.
The Camaro rolled up along side him, slowing down to his pace. Billy already had the window down and a smirk on his face.
"Need a ride?"
Steve could've screamed.
"Get the hell away from me, Billy, I swear to God." He said, shaking.
"Come on, it's freezing out there." Billy threw a hand around the inside of his car. "I've got the heat going in here. Nice and warm, just for you."
"Screw you."
The car rolled along at a gentle three miles an hour.
"Can't we just let bygones be bygones, Harrington?" Billy sighed. "Start over? New leaf?"
Steve flipped him the bird with one steadily freezing finger.
"Looks like frostbite." Billy laughed.
Steve stopped and turned to him. The car stopped with a jolt.
"Asshole! Why would I get in that car with you?" Standing still, he could feel the cold in his bones. "You're a God damn psychopath. Best-case scenario, this is you being way too committed to the 'drive away when they reach for the door handle' gag. At worst? You're probably going to try and actually murder me. So go back to your friends and back to whatever girl you're planning on giving gonorrhea to tonight and leave me the hell alone."
Not interested in a response, Steve turned and continued along the road, hoping that home was closer than he thought. His anger was mostly aimed at himself. Never give in to him, that was the only thing to remember. The bastard thrives on knowing he's fucking with you. But after a night of mounting frustrations, he'd let it out on Billy and Steve knew the son of bitch would be relishing it.
He could hear the hum of the Camaro's engine growing fainter as he continued forward, the car remaining stationary behind him. After a few seconds, however, it began driving towards him. He spun around, expecting to see Billy attempting to hop the curb and ram him. Instead, the car just pulled up next to him. The smirk was gone.
"Steve." Billy said, in a tone of voice alien to him. "It's cold. Get in the car."
It wasn't a demand. It wasn't an attempt at raising his hackles. To Steve, it sounded like an earnest request rooted in something close to concern.
He stood for several seconds, shaking in the cold, unsure what to do.
Against his better judgement, Steve found himself walking around the front of the car, watching Billy as he went. He opened the passenger door and sat in. There was no talking, no radio. Only the roar of the Camaro as it sped down the road.
The warmth was welcome. Everything else about the situation, however, made him very uneasy. He'd been in the car once before, with Max driving. Although he'd feared for his life with her behind the wheel, Steve didn't feel especially safer with her stepbrother there in her stead.
They sat in a tense silence, Billy continuing to drive the long, straight road that Steve had foolishly thought he could hike on his own. The boy hadn't shown so much as a hint of a smile since Steve had gotten into the car. There'd been no taunting and no ridiculing. It made the experience strangely worse.
"Are we going to your place?" Billy asked.
Steve nearly jumped at the sudden sound of his voice.
"What?"
"Where am I driving to?"
Steve looked at his watch.
"Shit, the dance is over."
"You were going to a middle school dance?" Billy cocked an eyebrow.
"What? No." Steve ran a hand through his hair. "I was supposed to pick someone up."
"You know how creepy that sounds, right?"
"Shut the hell up."
They drove in silence for a moment.
"So, where am I going, Harrington?"
Steve imagined Dustin waiting for him outside the school while the other kids left. Surely the others wouldn't leave him? Nancy was there. She'd probably stick around for a while to help clean up. She'd take care of him, make sure he got home. Steve would have to thank her. After he apologized to Dustin.
"Harrington!"
"Jesus, what?"
Billy looked at him for the first time in their drive. Both eyes off the road, he stared at Steve, a quiet rage forming.
"Where do you want to go?"
Steve stared back at him, a little shaken by the growl in the boy's voice.
"Home."
Billy turned back to the road and shook his head. After a moment he glanced back over at Steve.
"Are you gonna give me directions or what?"
"Right, yeah, it's, um, turn left here, keep heading straight." Steve was living on his nerves at that moment. "I'll let you know when we get close."
Billy followed the instructions and they returned to the silence. After a moment, he popped the cigarette lighter and pulled a dented pack of cigarettes from his pocket, removing one with his lips. After lighting it, he shook the pack at Steve.
"I don't smoke." He said, only glancing at the offering for a moment.
"Start." Billy kept his eyes on the road.
"Nah, I quit." He hoped no further explanation would be needed.
Confusion furrowed Billy's brow.
"Why?" The boy seemed baffled as to why anyone would give up.
Taking a deep breathe, Steve prepared himself.
"Well, Nancy –" He started.
"Jesus Christ, Harrington!" Billy sounded almost disappointed with him. "She dumped you, for Christ's sake. It's time to take your balls back."
"Okay, she didn't dump me, alright?" Steve said, defensively. "We…I…"
"Need to take a God damn cigarette out of this pack and smoke it."
Steve saw it as a Catch-22. Take the cigarette, Billy gets to sit in smug satisfaction for the rest of the ride. Don't take it, Billy calls him a pussy for the rest of the ride. He glanced at the pack, a little brown filter inviting him it pull at it.
"I'm alright." He looked out the passenger window.
He heard the pack being flung onto the dashboard. The lack of subsequent taunting surprised him.
Staring out of the window, Steve hoped his car would still be in the lot the next day. Granted, no one was likely to steal a car with a dead battery but there was nothing to say it wouldn't get towed if it was there too long. He mentally kicked himself for sitting there with the radio going for…how long had it been, again?
Something occurred to him.
"You said I was sitting in the car for thirty minutes." He said, looking to Billy. "So, you knew I was in there the whole time?"
Billy threw a glance at him and shrugged.
"Yeah."
"Did anyone else notice?"
"How should I know? It didn't come up." Billy scoffed at him. "You're not everyone's main topic of conversation, Harrington. People give way less of a shit about you than you think they do."
Steve considered this harsh reality. He wasn't sure what was worse. Being laughed at or being insignificant.
"Why the hell were you hiding there anyway?" Billy asked, flicking cigarette ash out the window.
Given the recent revelation that he was not the centre of everyone's universe, Steve felt embarrassed admitting the reason for his actions. To do so would expose a level of conceitedness that extended to believing he couldn't eat a cheeseburger without drawing attention to himself. And that would elicit nothing but ridicule from his driver.
"I fell asleep with the radio on." He lied, poorly.
The other boy sighed, implying he bought none of it.
"Fine, don't tell me. Like most people in this shit heel town, I couldn't care less about you." A smile snuck across Billy's face as they neared the house. "This it?"
Steve nodded and waited for Billy to pass some remark.
"Harrington!" It came quickly. "Living large!"
"Yeah, okay, look, you can drop me off anywhere here." Steve already had his hand on the door handle.
"What's the rush? Mommy and Daddy gonna be worried about you?"
"Something like that, yeah." Steve was ready to jump out as soon as the car slowed down enough.
The car continued its travel straight for the house. Steve said a silent prayer that Billy wouldn't cop the empty driveway and darkened windows. Unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, no one was listening.
"Place looks pretty empty to me."
"Yeah, well…" He began opening the door.
"Wait, there's no way that you have this big place all to yourself tonight, is there?"
Steve had several ideas of where Billy was going with this line of interrogation and not one of them appealed to him.
"Look, man, thanks. It's been weird. I gotta go." Steve was out of the car the instant it hit the driveway.
He didn't put it past Billy to follow him into the house, so he hurried towards the front door and reached for his keys. When his pocket proved empty, he felt like he was turning the ignition on his dead battery again.
"You've got to be kidding me." He sighed.
"Tonight's just not your night, is it, Harrington?"
Steve didn't turn around. He just silently nodded in agreement.
As they circled the back of the house, he threw what he hoped was a subtle glance behind him. Billy was trailing about six feet back, fresh cigarette hanging from his mouth. Steve looked ahead again.
"Look man, you really don't need to stick around." He called back, stopping at another window to see if he could open it.
"I drove you all the way here. Can't have you freezing to death just because you lost your damn key." Billy stopped by the pool. "Have a lot of pool parties here, do we?"
When the window refused to budge, Steve hit it half-heartedly and turned around. He looked from Billy to the pool and back.
"I guess, sometimes." He shrugged.
"Look forward to my invite." Billy smiled.
Steve ignored him and moved onto the next window.
"Christ, just throw a rock through one of them."
With an exhausted sigh, Steve turned to him again.
"Billy, just go. I really don't need your help."
This provoked laughter that Steve didn't like.
"Really?" Billy cocked an eyebrow at him. "Because I'm pretty sure without my help, you'd still be walking the streets of Hawkins like a lost hooker trying to get home."
The choice of metaphor baffled Steve.
"In fact, if you'd taken my help back in the parking lot, you could've saved me all this extra work and driven yourself here. But no." Billy made no attempt to hide his glee at fucking with him. "King Steve's too proud. He'll just walk around in this bullshit Indiana winter, freezing his ass off."
Fed up, Steve turned back to the house.
"Probably caught a cold." He heard Billy continue. "Guess that's something to get you excited, huh? Break out the rectal thermometer and have yourself a party–"
"Billy!" Steve refused to face him, knowing all he wanted was to watch him snap. "Would you just go –"
"Harrington!"
Steve spun around, barely able to control his anger.
"What?!"
Billy was standing by the pool, hands in his back pockets, cigarette burning down to its last. He stared at Steve before slowly raising his gaze upwards, indicating that the other boy should follow suit. Cautiously, Steve followed his eye line and looked to the side of the house. About twelve feet off the ground was an open bathroom window. Steve's relief was short-lived.
"You want help getting up there, pretty boy?"
Billy enjoyed making Steve uncomfortable. Steve was very aware of this. He would invade his personal space at inappropriate moments, often use the most suggestive language possible when speaking to him and always made sure that Steve knew when he was watching him. He knew Billy only did it to fuck with him. He knew it was all to get a reaction. Yet Steve had to remind himself of this repeatedly when, as he tried to climb through the open bathroom window, one of Billy's supposedly "helpful" hands would start cupping his ass to provide support.
Steve knew that he wanted to get called out for it. So Steve, refusing to give him what he wanted, remained defiantly silent on the matter.
"You almost inside?" He heard Billy asked from beneath him.
"Yeah, almost got it."
He recalled the ease with which he would sneak into Nancy's bedroom and considered how, compared to that, this should have been an easy feat. He conceded that his self-professed "ninja" abilities were likely going the same way as his dissipating basketball skills.
With a firm grip on the inside of the window, he began pulling himself in.
"I'm in." He announced, somewhat prematurely.
"Atta boy, Harrington."
There was a split second of relief when Steve felt Billy's hand move away, only for it to be shattered a moment later when the boy landed a firm and deep slap of encouragement on his ass cheek. It sent Steve tumbling through the window and into the tub.
"Jesus Christ!" He shouted out, every inch of him pained from the hard ceramic.
He could hear laughter through the window.
"Christ, you are one pathetic piece of shit, you know that?" Billy's voice drifted through the window.
Steve was painfully aware of it. He composed himself and stood up in the tub, sticking his head out to look at Billy. With ease, the boy jumped off of the picnic table they'd slid under the window.
"Look, thanks again for all your help." Steve called down, hoping this would be the end of his night. "I gotta go call Dustin's mom and –"
"Let me in." Billy said, in a tone that made Steve think he had no say in the matter.
"What? No–"
"Yeah, I gotta piss."
Steve was too exhausted to keep going.
"Go piss in the woods."
"I'm not gonna go piss in the woods, Harrington. It's freezing out here, my dick'll fall off mid-stream."
Steve berated himself for getting in the damn car.
"Jesus, Billy, would you just – "
"Alright, I'll tell you what." Billy said, raising his hands and seemingly submitting. "It's okay, I'll let myself in."
Steve watched him walk around the side of the house and his blood ran cold. He ran for the bathroom door.
By the time he hit the stairs, the sound of shattering glass was echoing through the empty house. Steve jumped the last three steps and looked around, trying to figure out where Billy would've broken in. As he reached for the light switch, Steve looked ahead into the kitchen. Enough moonlight shone in for him to see the reflective shards of glass on the tiled floor. Abandoning the light, he strode into the kitchen and prepared to beat the shit out of Billy.
When he entered, however, he was surprised to find all of the windows intact. He took several steps around the room before realising that the shards on the floor were from a freshly broken glass, not a window. He hated himself for walking into the trap.
The whisper came from the darkness behind him, right into his ear.
"Boo."
Steve jumped and spun around. In the shadows, he could just see Billy's outline standing before him.
"Get out." He said, steadying his breathing.
Even in the darkness, he knew that smirk was pointed at him.
"Feel familiar?"
He tried not to get worried, tried to keep his own voice firm.
"I said, get out." He repeated.
"There it is again, déjà vu." He heard the damn smirk in the delivery. "You gonna sucker punch me this time too?"
Steve shook his head in disbelief.
"Is that what this is? You've been waiting to get back at me?"
Forced laughter slipped out of the darkness.
"Back at you for what? I beat the shit out of that pretty face of yours, remember?"
"Yeah. Until your little sister knocked you out." Steve's eyes began to acclimatize to the dark. "Made you her bitch."
Billy took three strides towards him and pushed him into the backdoor. When Steve went to steady himself, Billy pinned his arms against the hard surface.
"So what does that make you, Harrington?"
This close, Steve could see Billy almost perfectly in the moonlight. His was stone faced. There was no smirk. There were no suggestive flicks of the tongue. There was only an agression that Steve hadn't seen in him before. It was less malevolent and more anticipatory, as if he was waiting for the right answer before unleashing something. The longer Steve looked into his eyes, the more he realized what it was.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, sure he already understood.
Billy moved forward slightly, pushing against him.
"It means that if I can hand your ass to you on the court. And I can beat you unconscious without breaking a sweat. And I can get under your skin the way I know I do." He blew the hair from Steve's eyes, just to make him blink. "And you still need me to rescue you from the God damn road side like a stranded whore?"
The silence was heavy.
"Then what does that make you, Steve?" Billy's grip tightened when he used his first name.
Steve tried not to start shaking. Never give in to him.
The other boy leaned in until there was barely any space between them. When he spoke again, Steve could feel Billy's breathe on his lips.
"What are you?" He whispered.
Steve swallowed the lump building in his throat and, with it, his pride. He gave Billy what he wanted.
"I'm your bitch."
That smirk. That tongue flick.
"That's right." Billy pivoted to the side and placed a slow kiss on Steve's neck.
The boy's lips against his skin sent a shiver down Steve's spine and his eyes fell shut in a strange moment of relief. After a few seconds, Billy opened his mouth, the warm tip of his tongue brushing against Steve's cold skin. The sensation of teeth gently digging into his flesh soon followed. Steve felt his stomach tighten in surprised excitement. Unfortunately, the unexpected high was short lived. He felt Billy release his grip and, opening his eyes, Steve watched him turn to make his exit. After a moment's recovery, he spoke up.
"Hey."
At this distance, he could only make out the boy's silhouette. He saw it turn back to face him.
"Why did you come over to the car?" He asked. "Why did you follow me?"
There was a pause that followed in which Steve wished he could see the other boy's face. There was no movement in the darkness.
"I don't like the idea of you being all by yourself." Came the eventual response. "Remember that, Harrington. The next time you're home alone."
He watched the silhouette disappear into the shadows.
"By the way," He heard a voice tell him from the next room "the door wasn't locked."
The house echoed with the sound of the front door slamming shut. It wasn't long before he heard the car starting up and pulling away into the night. Alone in the silence, Steve took a long and shaky breathe before sliding onto the floor and staring into the darkness.