He hasn't spoken much to Max since the night when she held a bat over him like a red-headed vengeful angel, and it's not like she seems to want to talk to him either. Still, it feels like a mutual decision, rather than just getting the silent treatment. It's just one more thing to deal with. Neil won't let Max go alone where she needs to go, like she wants to, and he makes Billy drop her off and pick her up, like Billy doesn't want to, so … neither of them are getting their way. It's a small comfort, and helps make the silence between them bearable. At least they're both suffering.

He spots Harrington with the kids one evening, when he goes to pick up Max from the arcade. The other boy looks happy, and he's smiling and laughing with the little brats, who crowd around him when he ushers them into his car. Billy is suddenly grateful that he only has to drive one kid around, because he could hear them from inside his car when he was parked on the other side of the road, and he's also stricken by how care-free Harrington looks when he doesn't know that Billy is around. It makes his heart beat faster, and he bites his lip and remembers that small smile that he'd gotten out of Harrington when he walked into the door that day; the smile that he was the cause of, the one that was so small and insignificant compared to this joyful image.

He is interrupted in his thoughts by Max when she gets into the car and says something. He's not listening to her until he hears annoyance in her voice and tunes in in time to hear her say:

"Are you even listening to me?"

He glances over at her, makes sure she's buckled up, and looks away again.

"No", he answers and starts the car.

She huffs, frustrated, but he ignores her. She did say to leave her and her little friends alone, after all. Surely that means he doesn't have to listen to her drone on and on about them.

The memory of Harrington's grinning face won't leave him alone, though, and he tosses and turns for a long time before he falls asleep that night.


The next day, he waits by Harrington's car after school. He's smoking while he waits, and although he knows what he should do and what he kinda wants to do, he doesn't know how it will go, and he'll admit to himself that he's nervous. Smoking helps.

Harrington spots him immediately when he walks out of the school doors, and he stops walking and frowns. Billy holds his hands out and up, to indicate that he doesn't mean any harm, and doesn't grin his usual disarming smile – mainly because he's pretty sure it wouldn't work on Harrington. Instead he keeps his face neutral and his eyebrows raised, trying – and probably failing – to look as harmless as possible. Harrington hesitantly walks up to him, but stops a safe distance away. Smart guy.

Billy takes one last drag on his cigarette, drops it on the ground and steps on it. Licks his lips.

"Harrington."

Harrington looks wary.

"Hargrove."

Billy clears his throat, looks to the side.

"Listen, I'm … I wanted to …"

He bites his lip. Fuck, this is hard.

"I'm sorry, okay? For the …" He takes a breath and looks up, indicates his own face with a little wave of his hand. "For the face thing."

Harrington doesn't speak, and Billy's almost grateful because that means he can continue his word vomit of an apology uninterrupted before he chickens out – but he also kind of hates Harrington for it, because he's awkward as fuck and he knows it.

"I was … I … Fuck it, I'm just sorry, all right. You didn't deserve that."

Harrington still doesn't speak or come any closer, and Billy suddenly realizes that he's standing right in front of Harrington's car – and that it could be interpreted as a threat, all things considered – so he backs up so that the other boy can get to the driver's seat without necessarily getting closer to him. And he knows he doesn't deserve forgiveness – even though he wants it for some reason, he knows that, okay – so he's trying hard to stomp down on his hopes. He tells himself that it's not about forgiveness; that it's about owning up to a mistake, and taking responsibility for his actions. Respect, responsibility; all that shit that Neil's on him about all the time.

Somehow he doesn't think that Neil would appreciate him using his teachings in this particular instance, though.

"You don't have to … I know you won't … Fuck. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. It doesn't help but." He shrugs. "Yeah. Anyway. Have a good one."

And he leaves, because he's a coward who apparently can't even form sentences.


And for a few days after that, he's back to avoiding Harrington, almost afraid of what will come after such a blatant show of … weakness? Shit, what if Steve tells people about Billy trying to apologize? What if he tells them how Billy failed at it? He'll never live it down.

But no one comments on it or hints that they've found out, and the next time the two of them meet face to face, it's actually Harrington who nods first. And when Billy almost stumbles over his own feet, more than surprised, there is an actual twitch of Harrington's lips that shocks him out of it, and he nods back. They pass each other and the moment is over, but he feels ten feet tall because that was almost a smile. Almost. Smile-adjacent, at the very least, and that's without the involvement of any doors. And he doesn't know for sure if he was the cause of it, but he realizes that he wishes that he was.

He also realizes that those almost-smiles? He wants more of them.


He doesn't know how to approach Harrington again, though, because while he can charm the pants off just about any girl (and her mother) and talk shit with just about any guy if he so pleases, this is not a situation he's ever been in before. He doesn't even want to think about it too much, because admitting to himself that he maybe wants to get Harrington to smile more – Harrington being the cool-as-a-cucumber former King of Hawkins whose face Billy beat in a couple of months ago and whom he hasn't really spoken to since, not counting that cringe-inducingly awkward apology in the school parking lot – would lead to a bunch of other questions he doesn't really want the answer to. So he does what he does best, and shoves it away for later. Hopefully never.

The point is, that he's on unknown ground, and it's not something he's very fond of. He knows what he wants – even if he's not entirely sure why – and for once he doesn't know how to go about getting it.

He is therefore very much surprised when it's Harrington who approaches him.


It's at a party at someone's house, one Friday night, and most everyone seems to be there. He's been flirting and dancing and drinking enough to be pleasantly warm, and he's taken a break to go out for a smoke. It's cold outside, but he doesn't care. He's standing there, looking up at the sky with the ruckus of the party in the background, enjoying the chilly night air and the temporary calm, when someone comes up behind him. Billy glances over, and it's Harrington, who's not looking at him but instead lighting his own cigarette.

Harrington must have seen him – Billy shuffles his feet and exhales loudly to make his presence known in case the other boy missed him out there – but Harrington doesn't take any notice. Harrington is ignoring him, but he is definitely aware of Billy out there; they're standing within touching distance of each other, after all, and there's no one else there.

Half a minute passes, and Billy's forgotten about his own cigarette while watching Harrington, but eventually the alcohol in his bloodstream prompts him into breaking the silence:

"Uh …"

Fucking eloquent, Hargrove.

Harrington still doesn't speak, or even acknowledge that Billy is there, and Billy feels jittery all of a sudden. He doesn't know what to do. Should he say something?

He decides not to, in the light of his recent failures with speech. Instead he re-lights his cigarette and goes back to watching the stars. He is loathed to admit it, but they shine brighter in Hawkins than they ever did back in in California. Probably because the lack of civilization, he thinks, a little bitingly.

Eventually Harrington takes a deep breath, like he's psyching himself up to jumping off a cliff or something, and turns to Billy. Billy turns to him as well, preparing himself for whatever is about to happen – and is blindsided by Harrington suddenly backing him up against the wall, eyes alight with anger like that night at the Byers' house when Billy had threatened the Sinclair kid. Billy is so surprised by this sudden turn of events that he doesn't react until he's got a brick wall at his back and an angry Steve Harrington two inches from his face.

"Listen, Hargrove", Steve spits, and Billy can smell the alcohol on his breath, "You're a real piece of shit and what you did fucked me up for a long time, but you're not the worst thing out there, you know, and I can't go through every fucking second of every fucking day looking over my shoulder, so did you mean it when you said you were sorry?"

And Billy, ever so articulate, says:

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

Billy's heart is beating fast in his chest, because he's actually not that great with having people up in his face; his first instinct is to shove Steve away from him and maybe follow up with a punch, but at the same time he clearly remembers cracking his knuckles open on the other boy's face a couple of months ago and he really doesn't want to do that again, so he keeps still with his hands at his sides and is barely breathing. Steve looks him in the eye – his eyes are slightly unfocused, oh great he's drunk too – before he nods once, as if confirming something, and backs off.

Billy stands with his back to the wall and runs a hand through his hair a little shakily while he fumbles for another smoke. Steve surprises him again by picking up the lighter he dropped earlier, and lighting his cigarette for him. Billy takes the lighter Steve holds out for him without a word, and then they both turn to look out into the darkness.

They stay out there for a couple of minutes, smoking in silence, and that's that.


During the following weeks, they share the occasional smoke during breaks in school; Harrington will come out through the doors when Billy is already standing there and just … not leave, like he used to; or Billy will cautiously walk closer to a corner where Harrington is standing, and silently offer a cigarette or a light.

They talk very little at first, if at all. But when the smoke breaks during school hours expand to include a smoke after school and once outside the arcade when they were both waiting for the kids, well. Two guys can only stand in brooding silence together for so long – while sober – before it gets ridiculous, so eventually they start talking. Safe topics only, just everyday things, but it's more than Billy could have hoped for.

The first time Billy cracks a joke and Steve snorts at it, something blooms in his chest.

I did that.


It happens more often, after that.


A few weeks pass, and Steve starts to smile tentatively at the sight of him (Billy has been smiling at the sight of Steve for a long time, by then).