Chapter Text
Okay, so here’s the weird thing.
Billy Hargrove has been showing up to Family Video like, every other night for the past month and Steve is really getting sick of it.
He’d managed to avoid the guy after he’d so generously rearranged Steve’s face with his fists, surprisingly with no problem at all. Billy seemed to be doing just as much avoiding since Steve hadn’t seen him in what, the better part of a year and a half? It was going good honestly, and after the six-month mark Steve thought for sure he was far enough away from high school and the gravitational pull of one Billy Hargrove to never see him again. Ever.
Until he started becoming some kind of film fanatic or something.
According to Billy, who only knew how to talk shit or brag apparently, the horror flicks were what really got ’the girls gushing for me, y’know what I mean, Harrington?’
The memory of those words coming out of Billy’s mouth had Steve grimacing at the cover of The Outsiders as he put it back on the shelf, some odd mixture of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on making his cheeks flush hotly.
“He does realizes those idiots blab about like, every single movie he’s ever taken out, right?” Steve realizes a second too late that this statement his completely unprompted, and when he turns to look at Robin at the register she’s giving him the most complicated look she can muster. Something between I know exactly what you’re talking about and I have no idea what you’re talking about.
“And who are we talking about again?” Robing asks in that airy, sing-song way of hers that never fails to make Steve feel like a moron. Steve deadpans at her for a moment because he knows she knows. She’s the one always pointing out that he can’t seem to talk about anyone else.
“Does he think I’m stupid?” Steve starts back in, not bothering to clarify as he continues putting back the returned VHS tapes from the morning rush. He ignores the way he can practically feel Robin roll her eyes at his back and pushes on. “Like, he does know I see Max practically every day, right?”
Robin is opening her mouth to say something when Steve turns to her and points a bulky VHS in her direction, a little heated when he says, “Which is literally only because he’s late to pick her up from— anything!” He waves his hands a little frantically at his pause before slamming the VHS onto the shelf to punctuate his statement.
Steve steamrolls right through Robin’s dramatic sigh, a slight hysteric tone to his voice now. “And who’s he trying to impress, anyway? Acting like he’s bagging all these girls when really he’s just renting R-rated movies for his younger sister and her nerd friends. I mean, it’s literally all they talk about. If I have to hear Dustin give me another play-by-play of some D-list horror movie I might actually go insane.”
“Maybe he’s trying to impress you,” Robin says casually, as if it’s the most causal thing to say, just a casual little flick of her wrist and she’s casually planting that seed in his head.
Steve can feel he’s red all the way down to his collarbones from the suggestion so he laughs to cover it up, smacking a few more VHS tapes down where he’s meandered into, ironically, the Rom-Com section.
“Me?” Steve asks flatly, tactically keeping his back to Robin so she can’t see how blotchy he must be right now. “Pretty sure that guy’s got nothing left to prove to me.” And sure, it sounds a little sad, a little dejected, but also a little fuckin’ pissed, because of all the times Billy has walked through those front doors of Family Video, he has not even once mentioned nearly killing Steve with his bare hands.
There’s a long silence from Robin, and Steve’s realized he’s talked too much about this already so he keeps his mouth shut, too. Her silence gives Steve the creeping suspicion she knows something that he doesn’t, like Steve’s too dumb or blind or both to see what’s really happening here but she’s had it pinned since day one.
“No, but think about it, dingus,” Robin gushes, sounding far too excited for his liking, “maybe that’s what he’s been trying to do from the beginning. Maybe he’s just been trying to get your attention.”
Steve stares at her, dumbfounded, because that makes absolutely no sense to him. If Billy wanted his attention, why not talk to him like a normal human being?
“Okay, look, what do they say about little boys and pulling pigtails?” Robin starts moving her hands in a rotating motion around each other, like he’s trying to get Steve to finish the thought for her. When he doesn’t she just groans and slaps her hands down on the counter, defeated.
“Well, what about Wheeler?” She asks out of left field, making Steve scrunch his eyebrows up. He really has a hard time following her sometimes.
“Nancy? What about her?”
“Billy doesn’t like her, right? Hates her guts, even?” Steve hates the way Robin asks like it means something, like there’s something bigger she’s alluding to.
“I mean, I guess? He always used to make comments but I figured he was just trying to get to me.”
“Or,” Robin emphasizes dramatically, a triumphant smile gracing her lips like she’s already won— what, he’s not sure. “Or, he was a jealous of her. Is probably still jealous of her, since you’re still not over her.”
That’s got Steve sputtering from where he’s now tactfully hiding behind some shelves, fingers trembling slightly where he keeps shuffling around the same few VHS tapes. He tries to pass the odd sound off as a laugh, which somehow sounds even more pathetic and confusing.
“What— what the hell is that supposed to mean, Robin?!” Steve asks a little too heatedly, with a little too much feeling.
“All’s I’m saying is,” and Steve can picture the way she must have her hands held up defensively in front of her, “I hated your guts when Tammy would smile at you, or laugh at you, or pay attention to you.”
Steve hears the rustling of her green uniform vest as she shrugs, just before the bell above the front door chimes with the signal of a new customer.
—-
Billy didn’t show up for a rental that night, but that sure didn’t stop Steve from thinking about him. More importantly, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Robin said and how much it (irritatingly) seemed to make sense, like pretty much everything that came out of Robin’s mouth.
He was distracted the rest of his shift, thinking over everything Billy had ever said to him, the increasing frustration that seemed to build up inside of him the more that Steve seemed to ignore him. Although he was never truly ignoring him, huh? You can’t really ignore someone you’re always looking over your should for.
Steve even carried the thoughts to bed with him, tossing and turning while he obsessed over dissecting what could have been between them.
But what would it mean, anyway, if Robin was right?
—-
It was two whole days before Billy came in next.
Not that Steve was counting.
Annoyingly enough, it was just before closing, the bell above the door sounding at 9:55 PM. It was enough to set Steve’s teeth on edge where he was finishing up sweeping towards the back corner of the store, the last step to his closing procedures before he actually counted up the register and locked the doors.
He gripped the handle of the broom tight in his fists before taking a deep breath and stepping out from behind the shelves, carefully avoiding the dust pile he created.
“Welcome to—,” Steve’s words were cut short instantly when he saw none other than Billy Hargrove just a few steps inside the threshold of the store, looking better than he had any right to. He looked like he might actually have a date tonight instead of just picking up for Max, hair all done up in those coiled curls he’d learned to perfect, lips a cherry red like he’d already been making out with a girl in his car before he got here, tight jeans and a tighter shirt draped coolly with a leather jacket and thick, heavy black boots that made Steve flush hot the same way a girl in a plunging neckline could.
Something was so wrong with him.
“What’s the matter, Harrington? Cat got your tongue?”
Steve’s eyes shot up from where they’d been staring way too long, way too far down Billy’s body. He cleared his throat awkwardly and busied himself with walking to the register, leaning the broom in one of the corners of the square-shaped counter.
“Just— hurry it up, all right? We close in five minutes.”
Billy grinned at him big, one of those award-winning smiles that could probably get him whatever he wanted from anybody, and headed in the direction of the horror movies with a wink and mock-salute.
“You got it, King Steve,” Billy called from between the shelving, making Steve flush and turn to stare intently down at the rental rate sheet taped down to the counter. He fiddled with the peeling edges while he waited for Billy to make a selection, trying (and failing) to not think about all the implications Robin’s little idea conjured up in his head.
Surprisingly, Billy was actually quick, coming up to the counter like he’d already known what he was looking for. Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when the VHS was slapped down in front of him, a copy of Cujo.
“Didn’t you already rent this one?” Steve asked before he could think better of it, picking up the empty case so he could type the coded on the back into the system.
“You keeping track of what I get now?” It was mean and defensive, like Billy almost always was, so Steve just focused on the task at hand and tried not to get the numbers too jumbled up as he typed.
He marked the rental under Billy’s account (and thankfully bit his tongue when he saw that Cujo was in fact rented out to him about a week ago) and reached into his pocket for the keys to unlock the case behind the counter that the physical VHS was stored in. Just as Steve crouched down to look in the giant drawer he’d pulled out, Billy cleared his throat.
“Have you seen it?” He asked, eyes downcast to the same sheet of rental rates Steve had been picking at a moment ago. Steve peered up at him from under his hair just for a moment before he went back to skimming through the drawer full of VHS tapes.
“No,” Steve answered honestly, “not really big into scary movies anymore.”
Billy snorted, like he kind of expected that answer, but didn’t say anything else.
Between his nerves and untreated dyslexia, it took Steve longer than it probably should have to locate the movie. His fingers slipped and fumbled with the cassette a little before he actually managed to pull it out, but Billy must have been in a good mood today because he didn’t mention it.
“Is it any good?” Steve asked to break the maddening silence, glancing up at Billy just as he shrugged off the question.
“I’unno,” Billy grumbled, tapping his car key on the counter like an anxious tick. Since when did Billy ever seem anxious? “You wanna watch it?”
That brought Steve to a grinding halt, hands suspended where they were sliding the VHS into the Family Video branded case. He definitely gawked for way too long, Billy’s face turning tomato red as it scrunched up in anger.
“Forget it,” Billy said at the same time Steve decided to say,
“Sure.”
Steve let the VHS slide into place and snapped the case shut before the ensuing silence could drown him too much, before he own thought could drown him too much. Why the hell did he just agree to watching a horror movie with Billy Hargrove?
Now Billy looked embarrassed, looking anywhere but at Steve, and in a weird way it was kind of endearing. After having gone over every interaction he’d ever had with Billy Hargrove so obsessively over the past few days, he could honestly say he’s never seen him looking quite like this.
“Thought you didn’t like scary movies,” Billy mumbled under his breath, almost like he was too scared to talk now.
It was Steve’s turn to shrug as he used his foot to kick the drawer behind the counter closed with a muted thud. “How scary can a dog be?” And compared to the shit Steve’s seen, he truly meant that.
Billy was tapping his key on the counter again and refusing to meet Steve’s eyes, and somehow Billy’s unusual lack of confidence seemed to boost Steve’s own.
“Wanna watch it at mine?”