We could lush you up too if you'd just come over already.
( this isn't the first time he's smoked a little and overshared with Nancy. tbh wanting her to come over so they can eat chocolate and fool around is much less embarrassing than the last time he did this, so! Steve has no idea what Nancy's opinion of smoking weed is, he thinks if she'd try it she might like it. there's all sorts of ways he could introduce her to it, too. just. so much harder when she's not here. )
I mean, so maybe I made sure they were around if you wanted one. That's just... that's... that's for the good of both of us, really.
Everything, huh? Wow. We should catch an Indians game, then, they haven't been completely awful so far this season. ( since! she's so into baseball! every part of it! )
Finally? As if it hasn't only been about ten minutes since you actually invited me over. But... maybe? It's tempting. Possibly too tempting. But I've never smoked before, so you might have to walk me through it. I mean, I understand how it works, but I really have no idea how to actually do it.
[ a couple of years ago she would have been too embarrassed ( or maybe too proud ) to admit that, but luckily she's grown out of that at this point. still, she's never thought about it much? but it's worth a try, right? why not? ]
I'm just teasing you. I've always thought it was very sweet. And thoughtful. You were always good at stuff like that.
[ ... ah. the jig might be up on the baseball thing, because sitting through a baseball game when she doesn't have a massively big stupid crush on one of the players actually sounds a little like torture. ]
So... I just checked my schedule, and unfortunately I'm super busy on ALL of the same days that they have games. And it's possible I really only liked baseball when I got to watch you play. That might be a part of it, too.
I know. I keep asking, and you're still not here. ( between the grass and his frankly limited ability towards patience and distance as far as Nancy is concerned, these days especially — it is really killing him right now how much he wants her here, and she's not!!! ) I am not going to leave you hanging, I'll show you. It's easy, I promise.
( maybe that is a little unfair, coming from Steve, who smoked like a chimney before he had a girlfriend that didn't like the taste so he started popping mentos and altoids like a crazy person to sate his oral fixation. suffice to say smoking a blunt wasn't that much different than a cigarette, it just gets him buzzed after.
still, Nancy can do pretty much anything — smoking a joint is really small game, compared to everything else she does on a regular basis. )
Still am, I guess, because I'm not bullshitting, I have some. I didn't forget that you liked them, they just... grew on me.
( a less obvious Nancyism that he just ended up fond of. might have been a little bittersweet to think about, not even two weeks ago. now it's... maybe it's just a reminder that even apart, they still held on to pieces of each other. which is kinda nice, actually? ok maybe he's just a lil stoned shh )
Well, swing and a miss. I guess it's not so bad you don't want to stare at some other guy's ass in tight white pants.
Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, I'll come over. And maybe I'll try it. I'll think about it on the drive over.
[ she's like 2 seconds away from asking if she should eat something before she comes over, like, if it's anything like drinking. does she need a peanut butter sammy so she's not smoking on an empty stomach? how does it work????? but she keeps it to herself. ]
I mean, if you really wanted me to come to a game with you, I would. But just for getting to spend time with you, not to check out any butts in white pants. Your butt in those pants? Very different story. But just yours.
As long as you drive and think about it. ( damn u'd think he could be happy about the confirmation Nancy will come over. instead he's gonna be a bossy brat. okay. ) If you don't like it after a hit then we can stop. ... okay two hits. The first one always sucks.
( and while eating first is a good idea, they can definitely do that part when she gets here. he's already deep in munchies land, after all, it will benefit both of them! )
I like the answer you came to my games to check out my ass better than being a fan of the spirit of baseball, just so you know. Maybe I'll find another league or something, since the world isn't actively going to shit on us right now. If you're so into the white pinstripe pants.
Alright, I will, I promise. And yes, absolutely. At least two hits. Got it.
[ she's definitely texting between trying to decide if she hates her outfit or loves it, and brush her teeth, and tame her hair. and trying to remember if she needs to stop at the gas station before she goes to steve's. she does pause at that last text, though. her feelings about the uniform aside, she kind of really likes the thought of steve finding a baseball league. lord knows she needs to find something to fill her time. although a job would probably be the right place to start. but this isn't about her!! ]
You don't have to do all that for me. Honestly, it's not really about the atmosphere for me? So you could wear them around the house and it would work just the same. Even the pinstripes are nonessential. An old pair of sweatpants that don't really fit anymore could be an option. Or any pair of sweatpants, actually. [ nancy needs to get laid so bad it's actually becoming a problem ] Finding baseball is a great idea, if you did decide you wanted to play again. [ ...2 horny 2 function ] I meant finding a baseball league. Sorry, I probably shouldn't text while I'm trying to get ready to leave, huh?
( Steve isn't entirely sure what he would want. it's not like he can find anything particularly helpful, like the secret to get out of here. or a magic goddamn mirror so he can see home. know that Dustin and his mom and Max and all the other kids are okay. but, maybe he can snoop around more. see if he can find anything that at least helps people survive a little longer. maybe it'd be worth it. )
Sure. I'll see what I can do. ( and he could just leave it there, maybe, but Quentin has earned another social link, so, ) I got my shit kicked in by this asshole, once. I was trying to get him to fuck off, it didn't work. The kids were off on some death wish, but they stopped to put bandaids all over me, first. Like that'd help.
( maybe that sounds like he's pissed, he's... not. not really. it was kinda bittersweet, peeling them off his mottled and bruised face after. that they cared enough to pause and slap bandaids on him, in hopes of helping, before they took the camaro on an insane joyride. )
I'll point some useful looting spots next time we end up in a trial together. [ Like where Quentin finds soap or where Steve can get a decent enough snack. Hopefully Steve has a knack for finding something too and they can all benefit. While other people might have their spots they keep a secret so they have things to trade around (where in the world does Jake find his tools?), basically a currency around here, - Quentin just spills it out to people he likes. And Steve is well liked. It's not like he has to worry he'll be lacking in trading material at any point anyway if Steve points it out to others, even if he did care about that sort of thing. Nobody else magically spawns medical supplies. ]
Awesome. [ Colorful bandages to be sarcastic with sounds the best. He wasn't expecting much else after but Steve's divulging some history. Huh. ]
They probably thought it would help. Kids think a band-aid fixes everything. I used to cover myself in them all the time. [ ... oh. He remembers that now. There's a sort delay before he adds on: ] They must really care about you. These kids sound great but I have to ask why they were on some death wish.
Yeah? Okay. I'm good for shit like that, if you show me I won't forget.
( Steve isn't smart, or... good at gens, or even particularly strategic. but he does think he's got decent spatial awareness. he could find Skull Rock without a map or a compass, he can surely find Quentin's favorite little stashes when he's in a trial without him. maybe it'll slow him down on getting tunneled out of a match for the sake of benevolence, even! )
It's, uh... those pills that don't do anything, right? Kids and bandaids are like that. ( Nancy must have explained placebos to him a dozen times. Steve doesn't recall the fancy word, but the concept, sure. ) They wanted to be the distraction. Go directly into the obvious danger levels of distraction. It was like when you pinch yourself so your face hurts less? Only it was setting a tunnel full of evil faceless dogs on fire.
[ Hopefully this will help Steve. It's for the best to share with him. Quentin himself isn't the best at spatial awareness (if he's not getting picked off a gen at least once every trial, is Quentin really in the match?) mostly due to how damn tired he is and how distracted he can get in general outside of that. But he knows where to look when he ends up near landmarks, at least. He keeps track of those things. Steve knowing where to run to for a quick heal will save them both. ]
Placebos? Yeah. Like that. [ Distraction running directly into the danger... ] Oh so they take after you. Why is there a tunnel of dogs?
Uh, no no no. I was not the "let's run directly into the demo dog tunnels, maybe we can handle that better than the psychic child" guy. That was all Mike, and when I was out cold they decided to overrule me on the "absolutely not no we aren't doing that".
( no comment on how he's taken that role in the fog. 😇 )
The upside down shit was tunneling under farmland? I don't know, I think there was a reason why, I just don't remember.
I didn't say you encouraged them to do it, especially because you're pretty careful about looking out for people. But it's very Steve-like behavior to go right in there as a distraction, isn't it?
[ Quentin will comment on it for the both of them. ]
Probably because of the concussion if you were out cold.
( Steve doesn't even bother to answer. what is there to say? Billy is geared up enough, at some point it is only a fire hazard to keep throwing kindling on the fire. or, pure kerosene, as seems more apt in this particular situation. he has no doubt that Billy would genuinely fuck him up, given the opportunity — it's just that he has to secure the Camaro first. which Steve is banking on, actually. that the worst of the fire will burn out looking for something the guy is never gonna find.
since it isn't on a shoulder by the woods in the first place.
it's a bit of a gamble, deciding exactly how long it'll take Billy to clear out on his wild goose chase. it would figure Steve's math was off, he's failing that class right now. Hurricane Billy is rushing in, in full hungover force. turns out Steve's math on him wearing himself out was wrong, too — though, in his defense on that one, he wasn't intending to be present when Billy found his car in his own driveway.
Steve doesn't run, though. he distinctly doesn't have the home field advantage, here, but strangely that makes him feel a little safer. there's no way Billy can pulverize him into the cement without the entire neighborhood noticing. there's more than just preteen children here to witness, this isn't a night of shadows and monsters that nobody can ever know about. it's just your average Saturday. and being a good guy and returning a premium set of wheels after a rager doesn't merit getting his face caved in, now does it. )
Asshole? ( Steve says, expression perfect painted on confusion. maybe he's in the home field after all — because as much as Billy hates Hawkins, Steve Harrington is practically an installation here. he knows this place and he knows every family on this street. knows that's Mr. Wellford eyeing them from the other side of his hedge. the suspicious looking mailman a couple doors down has been sneaking Steve peppermint candies when he hands over the bills since Steve was about seven years old. Steve knows these people, and who they expect him to be. and he can be that guy just fine, even if it's been awhile. ) You really do gotta work on your gratitude, buddy. Maybe lay off the sauce, you can drive your own car home after a party.
( there's something a bit defiant about the ring of the keys through the air as he tosses them in Billy's direction. arming him with a murder weapon, if they were somewhere else. Steve is clearly quite confident that Billy is muzzled in his own driveway, though, and is apparently willing to risk it. )
[ Steve’s easy cadence stops Billy in his tracks. He’s ready to throw down. He’s ready to eat Steve alive. Then he looks around and sees what Steve sees. It may not be Steve’s homefield, but — isn't it. Sort of? Hawkins is Steve Harrington’s, isn’t it? Billy gets the high school and empty houses filled with spooked children. There’s a neighbor trimming a tree. A mail man. Some kids are piling out of a house with hockey sticks and a rubber ball.
And Billy wants to pound Steve’s face into the cement. He jumps, which he regrets, when the keys get close and he snatches them out the air without his usual grace. Steve’s talking too loud, mirroring Billy’s animal growl, but now his voice goes lower, hissed out as he gets closer, like maybe he can get close enough to wring Steve’s neck without Mrs. Cross noticing. She’s taking out the trash. ]
Which one are you now? Thing 1 or Thing 2? Thought you didn’t fuck with Hagan.
[ And they’re awfully buddy-buddy aren’t they? Last night was a blunder. ]
( Billy is getting too close and it's familiar in a not so welcome sort of way. Steve's posture doesn't yield much but his expression shifts, for half a moment. maybe Steve learned something from getting his ass kicked at the Byers, after all. he leans back against the Camaro and crosses his arms, feet somewhat planted, anyway. it would at least be harder to shove him straight over this way, is the idea. though, it's not like he's got a good exit strategy, with Hargrove pinning in too close for comfort. same sort of unhinged look on him as the last time Steve decided to lie to the guy's face. )
What? ( of all the questions he anticipated, what's up with you and Tommy really wasn't it. he even huffs an incredulous laugh. ) One night thing. He's all yours, buddy. ( it's even paired with the worlds most sarcastic friendly slap to the shoulder. the hubris of human nature, to push a limit the second it is presented. this is not the morning to test the length of Billy's chain and yet here he is, rattling it anyway.
in a strange way it feels like this moment is in sharper focus, than sleepwalking through school and pretending he doesn't see Nancy and Jonathan eating lunch together every day. he might be seconds away from Billy knocking his teeth out, and yet toeing the line of something dangerous almost feels more normal than sitting through home room and pretending he'll actually sleep when he turns the light off at night. ) C'mon, Hargrove. A little thank you wouldn't kill you.
[ What a stupid, lousy thing to say. Steve's "what" feels like a nail in a coffin. Billy's surprised him, but not in any way he wants to. Who gives a shit if Hagan is off Billy's leash? He doesn't. Not really. Except of course he does, because having control over Tommy lets Billy have some control over HHS. What a stupid lousy thing to say.
The slap on his shoulder is a second, echoing nail, and it doesn't bode well with Billy's hissed out, "Keep him, that stupid son of a bitch." Because Tommy's gotten way too familiar if he thinks he can wrap his sweaty fingers around Billy's keys when he's drunk and high to hell. ]
You want me to thank you? You're going to be thanking me if you make it out of here alive.
[ And for a wild moment, he believes it. Really believes he's going to rip Steve Harrington to shreds. He almost makes it, steps the final step into Steve's space, hand on his shoulder and ready to press him backwards, hard against the car, bend him backward until his spine snaps and Billy can wring his neck in peace, in front of Mrs. Cross and the mailman and God, but —
The front door opens and the hand on Steve's shoulder twitches before both arms drop like cut marionette strings. Neil Hargrove and his son are of a similar height. That's where most of the similarities end. Dark haired and eyed, Billy's father strolls out of his home like he owns the place, which he does. The Harrington's might own Hawkins in a spiritual, generational sort of way, but Neil Hargrove is master of his domain.
He looks at Billy, looks at Steve, looks at the pretty blue Camaro. And when he approaches, Billy is quiet for a beat too long.
“Well? Introduce me to your friend.”
Friend. Friend. Like Steve Harrington’s his friend. Billy’s mouth parts, maybe to say he’d rather gut himself than say they’re friendly, but his mouth shuts with a tiny click. Self preservation is a bitch — and Billy woke up at home with no car. Now there’s a car. Weird isn’t it? ]
Yes. [ An uncomfortable beat when Neil looks at him, not Steve. ] …Sir. This is Steve Harrington. We’re [ not friends. ] on the basketball team. Together.
[ “Harrington.” Neil recognizes the name, but his expression remains cool. That — is rather like Billy isn’t it? Cold, expressionless, until he’s tipped into flirtation or icy, cruel fury. Neil sticks out his hand to shake, and he hasn’t looked at Billy since he prompted the ‘sir.’
( if there's a more awkward way to meet the dad of a guy who nearly beat your face in, Steve doesn't know it. 2 seconds away from tasting his own teeth wasn't exactly how he would have wanted it to go. it is impossible to know if it is obvious to an outsider that they were about to scrap like feral cats, though the energy of Billy's dad showing up really does suck the air out of the room. and they're standing outside, so, that's saying something.
Steve straightens, evaluating the situation he's found himself in. on one hand, parents love him. even Barb's parents goddamn loved him. which sort of felt bad, all things considered. on the other, Billy's dad presents like he's never liked anyone ever, so maybe being parent catnip isn't going to work out for him for once.
and all of this is. weird. Steve actually relates to an old man that talks around him like he's not fucking there. feels a little crooked and uncomfortable, to be the one that's intentionally seen for once. he takes the handshake because is it an option not to? but it's a brusk, hit the brief sort of maneuver. ) Nice to meet you, Mr. Hargrove. ( is he supposed to be following the 'sir' thing? hopefully not. Steve doesn't even call his own father sir.
it's a really good question, why he has the Camaro. and Billy has provided exactly no backup on the situation. Steve stalls, glancing to stare at it like he just remembered it was there. ) It was a favor. Girls aren't impressed by a classic, anymore. Thought I'd see if I liked something flashier, but I'm still not sure.
( it's not anything Billy hasn't figured out about Steve, really, but he's a fucking solid liar. he can lie straight to someone's face, complete and utter bullshit. most of the time it lands because he's just so convincing about it. he's a bullshit artist. bullshit is his second language! he's fucking fluent, even though he's not particularly proud of the fact. and that's what it all is, bullshit. Billy can meet him in the middle, agree that he meant it. or he can cough up that he was too wasted to do anything about somebody stealing his keys. it's not like there's not risk for both parties. it's some kind of illegal to take a joyride in somebody else's car, even if Steve isn't the one that personally stole the keys. Billy could call him out if he wanted to, just not without shooting himself in the foot to do it. )
[ Steve's a fucking liar. Billy wasn't unaware that he's a shitass, grade-A liar. No one can rise to the top of the shark tank that is high school without being the one who can spin a lie to their parents, who can sweet talk adults into looking the other way. It's not a surprise that Steve's lying, it's that — Steve is lying for him. Sure, it might be for himself too, but it's also for Billy, isn't it? But Billy can lie too. Steve has to know that Billy's all smoke and mirrors curling around a pair of fists and snarling teeth. But —
Billy's not really good at lying to his old man. He's not sure why, he's just dog shit at it. Maybe because half the time it doesn't really matter to Neil whether he's telling the truth or not. Those sorts of things don't really tend to matter to Neil. It's not that Billy would have gone belly up and confessed, but he would have evaded. Little white lies, little basic ones, it's hard to keep the big ones going for Neil. Usually, Billy just takes the punishment if it's doled out.
He doesn't really know what to make of it. Part of him wants to scream. A big part of him is angry, angry that Steve thinks he can come here and lie and then probably ask Billy for some sort of favor afterwards, after the absolute bullshit he and Tommy pulled. Honestly, lending his car out for such a stupid reason in Neil's eyes might mean he gets cuffed anyway, so maybe none of this matters. Billy's expression is still stoic, but his eyes are cold. He's pissed, it's probably obvious to Steve. To Neil — well, when have they ever understood one another? So what's all this matter? When it's his turn to speak, to confirm it, he nearly starts to shout. Maybe he'll just spit it out: I got trashed on whiskey, took some sort of pill. All of me feels trashed, and this fucker stole my car. But all that's still my fault, sir.
He doesn't say that. ]
He drives a beemer. 733i.
[ What does Neil Hargrove think of Steve Harrington cruising for pussy in his son's car? Billy can't tell. It depends on the day and Neil's mood whether his son's a 'hot blooded American man' or if he's trash, rolling around with a gaggle of whores. At least for now, Neil seems hotblooded. He nods. Says to Steve: "If you're not going to buy American, at least you're buying German." And then he makes small talk. About cars. With Steven Harrington. And Billy watches, seething. ]
Edited (oops, subject line) Date: 2023-01-29 01:00 am (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tfln. 11.04.22. now featuring the ability to count! eta ft the ability to link!
Date: 2022-11-06 07:53 pm (UTC)2. You covered in salsa con queso would take care of all of my cravings right now.
3. Long story short... we may or may not have lost your car.
4. It felt great physically, but AWFUL morally.
DBD FLAVOR.
5. My finger is gonna grow back, right?
6. Is it weird to miss the pumpkins? I miss the pumpkins.
keenely.
Date: 2022-11-06 11:11 pm (UTC)( this isn't the first time he's smoked a little and overshared with Nancy. tbh wanting her to come over so they can eat chocolate and fool around is much less embarrassing than the last time he did this, so! Steve has no idea what Nancy's opinion of smoking weed is, he thinks if she'd try it she might like it. there's all sorts of ways he could introduce her to it, too. just. so much harder when she's not here. )
I mean, so maybe I made sure they were around if you wanted one. That's just... that's... that's for the good of both of us, really.
Everything, huh? Wow. We should catch an Indians game, then, they haven't been completely awful so far this season. ( since! she's so into baseball! every part of it! )
no subject
Date: 2022-11-06 11:51 pm (UTC)But... maybe? It's tempting.
Possibly too tempting.
But I've never smoked before, so you might have to walk me through it. I mean, I understand how it works, but I really have no idea how to actually
do it.
[ a couple of years ago she would have been too embarrassed ( or maybe too proud ) to admit that, but luckily she's grown out of that at this point. still, she's never thought about it much? but it's worth a try, right? why not? ]
I'm just teasing you. I've always thought it was very sweet. And thoughtful.
You were always good at stuff like that.
[ ... ah. the jig might be up on the baseball thing, because sitting through a baseball game when she doesn't have a massively big stupid crush on one of the players actually sounds a little like torture. ]
So... I just checked my schedule, and unfortunately I'm super busy on ALL of the same days that they have games.
And it's possible I really only liked baseball when I got to watch you play. That might be a part of it, too.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 12:19 am (UTC)( maybe that is a little unfair, coming from Steve, who smoked like a chimney before he had a girlfriend that didn't like the taste so he started popping mentos and altoids like a crazy person to sate his oral fixation. suffice to say smoking a blunt wasn't that much different than a cigarette, it just gets him buzzed after.
still, Nancy can do pretty much anything — smoking a joint is really small game, compared to everything else she does on a regular basis. )
Still am, I guess, because I'm not bullshitting, I have some.
I didn't forget that you liked them, they just... grew on me.
( a less obvious Nancyism that he just ended up fond of. might have been a little bittersweet to think about, not even two weeks ago. now it's... maybe it's just a reminder that even apart, they still held on to pieces of each other. which is kinda nice, actually? ok maybe he's just a lil stoned shh )
Well, swing and a miss. I guess it's not so bad you don't want to stare at some other guy's ass in tight white pants.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 01:09 am (UTC)And maybe I'll try it. I'll think about it on the drive over.
[ she's like 2 seconds away from asking if she should eat something before she comes over, like, if it's anything like drinking. does she need a peanut butter sammy so she's not smoking on an empty stomach? how does it work????? but she keeps it to herself. ]
I mean, if you really wanted me to come to a game with you, I would. But just for getting to spend time with you, not to check out any butts in white pants.
Your butt in those pants? Very different story. But just yours.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 01:27 am (UTC)... okay two hits. The first one always sucks.
( and while eating first is a good idea, they can definitely do that part when she gets here. he's already deep in munchies land, after all, it will benefit both of them! )
I like the answer you came to my games to check out my ass better than being a fan of the spirit of baseball, just so you know.
Maybe I'll find another league or something, since the world isn't actively going to shit on us right now. If you're so into the white pinstripe pants.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 02:20 am (UTC)[ she's definitely texting between trying to decide if she hates her outfit or loves it, and brush her teeth, and tame her hair. and trying to remember if she needs to stop at the gas station before she goes to steve's. she does pause at that last text, though. her feelings about the uniform aside, she kind of really likes the thought of steve finding a baseball league. lord knows she needs to find something to fill her time. although a job would probably be the right place to start. but this isn't about her!! ]
You don't have to do all that for me. Honestly, it's not really about the atmosphere for me? So you could wear them around the house and it would work just the same.
Even the pinstripes are nonessential. An old pair of sweatpants that don't really fit anymore could be an option.
Or any pair of sweatpants, actually. [ nancy needs to get laid so bad it's actually becoming a problem ]
Finding baseball is a great idea, if you did decide you wanted to play again. [ ...2 horny 2 function ] I meant finding a baseball league. Sorry, I probably shouldn't text while I'm trying to get ready to leave, huh?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:deepwound.
Date: 2022-11-06 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 01:50 am (UTC)( it reminds Steve of Tommy. of himself, maybe, not that long ago. which makes it even more annoying, tbh. )
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 04:08 am (UTC)How the hell do I not know what I'm talking about?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-08 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-09 06:46 pm (UTC)Why are you so fucking uptight about shitty melted cheese?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:micronap.
Date: 2022-11-07 03:25 am (UTC)( Steve isn't entirely sure what he would want. it's not like he can find anything particularly helpful, like the secret to get out of here. or a magic goddamn mirror so he can see home. know that Dustin and his mom and Max and all the other kids are okay. but, maybe he can snoop around more. see if he can find anything that at least helps people survive a little longer. maybe it'd be worth it. )
Sure. I'll see what I can do. ( and he could just leave it there, maybe, but Quentin has earned another social link, so, ) I got my shit kicked in by this asshole, once. I was trying to get him to fuck off, it didn't work. The kids were off on some death wish, but they stopped to put bandaids all over me, first. Like that'd help.
( maybe that sounds like he's pissed, he's... not. not really. it was kinda bittersweet, peeling them off his mottled and bruised face after. that they cared enough to pause and slap bandaids on him, in hopes of helping, before they took the camaro on an insane joyride. )
no subject
Date: 2022-11-07 04:22 am (UTC)I'll point some useful looting spots next time we end up in a trial together.
[ Like where Quentin finds soap or where Steve can get a decent enough snack. Hopefully Steve has a knack for finding something too and they can all benefit. While other people might have their spots they keep a secret so they have things to trade around (where in the world does Jake find his tools?), basically a currency around here, - Quentin just spills it out to people he likes. And Steve is well liked. It's not like he has to worry he'll be lacking in trading material at any point anyway if Steve points it out to others, even if he did care about that sort of thing. Nobody else magically spawns medical supplies. ]
Awesome. [ Colorful bandages to be sarcastic with sounds the best. He wasn't expecting much else after but Steve's divulging some history. Huh. ]
They probably thought it would help. Kids think a band-aid fixes everything. I used to cover myself in them all the time. [ ... oh. He remembers that now. There's a sort delay before he adds on: ] They must really care about you. These kids sound great but I have to ask why they were on some death wish.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-08 02:07 am (UTC)( Steve isn't smart, or... good at gens, or even particularly strategic. but he does think he's got decent spatial awareness. he could find Skull Rock without a map or a compass, he can surely find Quentin's favorite little stashes when he's in a trial without him. maybe it'll slow him down on getting tunneled out of a match for the sake of benevolence, even! )
It's, uh... those pills that don't do anything, right? Kids and bandaids are like that. ( Nancy must have explained placebos to him a dozen times. Steve doesn't recall the fancy word, but the concept, sure. ) They wanted to be the distraction. Go directly into the obvious danger levels of distraction. It was like when you pinch yourself so your face hurts less? Only it was setting a tunnel full of evil faceless dogs on fire.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-08 03:56 am (UTC)[ Hopefully this will help Steve. It's for the best to share with him. Quentin himself isn't the best at spatial awareness (if he's not getting picked off a gen at least once every trial, is Quentin really in the match?) mostly due to how damn tired he is and how distracted he can get in general outside of that. But he knows where to look when he ends up near landmarks, at least. He keeps track of those things. Steve knowing where to run to for a quick heal will save them both. ]
Placebos? Yeah. Like that. [ Distraction running directly into the danger... ] Oh so they take after you. Why is there a tunnel of dogs?
no subject
Date: 2022-11-08 02:32 pm (UTC)( no comment on how he's taken that role in the fog. 😇 )
The upside down shit was tunneling under farmland? I don't know, I think there was a reason why, I just don't remember.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-08 04:01 pm (UTC)[ Quentin will comment on it for the both of them. ]
Probably because of the concussion if you were out cold.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:imagine these two ending a conversation. I wonder what that's like
From:legends tell they involve putting the phone down
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:otherbitches.
Date: 2022-11-27 02:08 am (UTC)( Steve doesn't even bother to answer. what is there to say? Billy is geared up enough, at some point it is only a fire hazard to keep throwing kindling on the fire. or, pure kerosene, as seems more apt in this particular situation. he has no doubt that Billy would genuinely fuck him up, given the opportunity — it's just that he has to secure the Camaro first. which Steve is banking on, actually. that the worst of the fire will burn out looking for something the guy is never gonna find.
since it isn't on a shoulder by the woods in the first place.
it's a bit of a gamble, deciding exactly how long it'll take Billy to clear out on his wild goose chase. it would figure Steve's math was off, he's failing that class right now. Hurricane Billy is rushing in, in full hungover force. turns out Steve's math on him wearing himself out was wrong, too — though, in his defense on that one, he wasn't intending to be present when Billy found his car in his own driveway.
Steve doesn't run, though. he distinctly doesn't have the home field advantage, here, but strangely that makes him feel a little safer. there's no way Billy can pulverize him into the cement without the entire neighborhood noticing. there's more than just preteen children here to witness, this isn't a night of shadows and monsters that nobody can ever know about. it's just your average Saturday. and being a good guy and returning a premium set of wheels after a rager doesn't merit getting his face caved in, now does it. )
Asshole? ( Steve says, expression perfect painted on confusion. maybe he's in the home field after all — because as much as Billy hates Hawkins, Steve Harrington is practically an installation here. he knows this place and he knows every family on this street. knows that's Mr. Wellford eyeing them from the other side of his hedge. the suspicious looking mailman a couple doors down has been sneaking Steve peppermint candies when he hands over the bills since Steve was about seven years old. Steve knows these people, and who they expect him to be. and he can be that guy just fine, even if it's been awhile. ) You really do gotta work on your gratitude, buddy. Maybe lay off the sauce, you can drive your own car home after a party.
( there's something a bit defiant about the ring of the keys through the air as he tosses them in Billy's direction. arming him with a murder weapon, if they were somewhere else. Steve is clearly quite confident that Billy is muzzled in his own driveway, though, and is apparently willing to risk it. )
no subject
Date: 2022-12-04 03:56 pm (UTC)And Billy wants to pound Steve’s face into the cement. He jumps, which he regrets, when the keys get close and he snatches them out the air without his usual grace. Steve’s talking too loud, mirroring Billy’s animal growl, but now his voice goes lower, hissed out as he gets closer, like maybe he can get close enough to wring Steve’s neck without Mrs. Cross noticing. She’s taking out the trash. ]
Which one are you now? Thing 1 or Thing 2? Thought you didn’t fuck with Hagan.
[ And they’re awfully buddy-buddy aren’t they? Last night was a blunder. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-12-28 12:29 am (UTC)What? ( of all the questions he anticipated, what's up with you and Tommy really wasn't it. he even huffs an incredulous laugh. ) One night thing. He's all yours, buddy. ( it's even paired with the worlds most sarcastic friendly slap to the shoulder. the hubris of human nature, to push a limit the second it is presented. this is not the morning to test the length of Billy's chain and yet here he is, rattling it anyway.
in a strange way it feels like this moment is in sharper focus, than sleepwalking through school and pretending he doesn't see Nancy and Jonathan eating lunch together every day. he might be seconds away from Billy knocking his teeth out, and yet toeing the line of something dangerous almost feels more normal than sitting through home room and pretending he'll actually sleep when he turns the light off at night. ) C'mon, Hargrove. A little thank you wouldn't kill you.
jfc this is long, sry
Date: 2022-12-29 04:44 am (UTC)The slap on his shoulder is a second, echoing nail, and it doesn't bode well with Billy's hissed out, "Keep him, that stupid son of a bitch." Because Tommy's gotten way too familiar if he thinks he can wrap his sweaty fingers around Billy's keys when he's drunk and high to hell. ]
You want me to thank you? You're going to be thanking me if you make it out of here alive.
[ And for a wild moment, he believes it. Really believes he's going to rip Steve Harrington to shreds. He almost makes it, steps the final step into Steve's space, hand on his shoulder and ready to press him backwards, hard against the car, bend him backward until his spine snaps and Billy can wring his neck in peace, in front of Mrs. Cross and the mailman and God, but —
The front door opens and the hand on Steve's shoulder twitches before both arms drop like cut marionette strings. Neil Hargrove and his son are of a similar height. That's where most of the similarities end. Dark haired and eyed, Billy's father strolls out of his home like he owns the place, which he does. The Harrington's might own Hawkins in a spiritual, generational sort of way, but Neil Hargrove is master of his domain.
He looks at Billy, looks at Steve, looks at the pretty blue Camaro. And when he approaches, Billy is quiet for a beat too long.
“Well? Introduce me to your friend.”
Friend. Friend. Like Steve Harrington’s his friend. Billy’s mouth parts, maybe to say he’d rather gut himself than say they’re friendly, but his mouth shuts with a tiny click. Self preservation is a bitch — and Billy woke up at home with no car. Now there’s a car. Weird isn’t it? ]
Yes. [ An uncomfortable beat when Neil looks at him, not Steve. ] …Sir. This is Steve Harrington. We’re [ not friends. ] on the basketball team. Together.
[ “Harrington.” Neil recognizes the name, but his expression remains cool. That — is rather like Billy isn’t it? Cold, expressionless, until he’s tipped into flirtation or icy, cruel fury. Neil sticks out his hand to shake, and he hasn’t looked at Billy since he prompted the ‘sir.’
“Does my son lend out his car then?” ]
its ok i m sure i have done worse to u without apologies
Date: 2023-01-08 01:20 am (UTC)Steve straightens, evaluating the situation he's found himself in. on one hand, parents love him. even Barb's parents goddamn loved him. which sort of felt bad, all things considered. on the other, Billy's dad presents like he's never liked anyone ever, so maybe being parent catnip isn't going to work out for him for once.
and all of this is. weird. Steve actually relates to an old man that talks around him like he's not fucking there. feels a little crooked and uncomfortable, to be the one that's intentionally seen for once. he takes the handshake because is it an option not to? but it's a brusk, hit the brief sort of maneuver. ) Nice to meet you, Mr. Hargrove. ( is he supposed to be following the 'sir' thing? hopefully not. Steve doesn't even call his own father sir.
it's a really good question, why he has the Camaro. and Billy has provided exactly no backup on the situation. Steve stalls, glancing to stare at it like he just remembered it was there. ) It was a favor. Girls aren't impressed by a classic, anymore. Thought I'd see if I liked something flashier, but I'm still not sure.
( it's not anything Billy hasn't figured out about Steve, really, but he's a fucking solid liar. he can lie straight to someone's face, complete and utter bullshit. most of the time it lands because he's just so convincing about it. he's a bullshit artist. bullshit is his second language! he's fucking fluent, even though he's not particularly proud of the fact. and that's what it all is, bullshit. Billy can meet him in the middle, agree that he meant it. or he can cough up that he was too wasted to do anything about somebody stealing his keys. it's not like there's not risk for both parties. it's some kind of illegal to take a joyride in somebody else's car, even if Steve isn't the one that personally stole the keys. Billy could call him out if he wanted to, just not without shooting himself in the foot to do it. )
crawls out of a pit
Date: 2023-01-29 01:00 am (UTC)Billy's not really good at lying to his old man. He's not sure why, he's just dog shit at it. Maybe because half the time it doesn't really matter to Neil whether he's telling the truth or not. Those sorts of things don't really tend to matter to Neil. It's not that Billy would have gone belly up and confessed, but he would have evaded. Little white lies, little basic ones, it's hard to keep the big ones going for Neil. Usually, Billy just takes the punishment if it's doled out.
He doesn't really know what to make of it. Part of him wants to scream. A big part of him is angry, angry that Steve thinks he can come here and lie and then probably ask Billy for some sort of favor afterwards, after the absolute bullshit he and Tommy pulled. Honestly, lending his car out for such a stupid reason in Neil's eyes might mean he gets cuffed anyway, so maybe none of this matters. Billy's expression is still stoic, but his eyes are cold. He's pissed, it's probably obvious to Steve. To Neil — well, when have they ever understood one another? So what's all this matter? When it's his turn to speak, to confirm it, he nearly starts to shout. Maybe he'll just spit it out: I got trashed on whiskey, took some sort of pill. All of me feels trashed, and this fucker stole my car. But all that's still my fault, sir.
He doesn't say that. ]
He drives a beemer. 733i.
[ What does Neil Hargrove think of Steve Harrington cruising for pussy in his son's car? Billy can't tell. It depends on the day and Neil's mood whether his son's a 'hot blooded American man' or if he's trash, rolling around with a gaggle of whores. At least for now, Neil seems hotblooded. He nods. Says to Steve: "If you're not going to buy American, at least you're buying German." And then he makes small talk. About cars. With Steven Harrington. And Billy watches, seething. ]
(no subject)
From: