If I Stare Too Long

Chapter 12: I See Trouble (On The Way)

By the time the summer fair rolls into town, Steve has stopped being so skittish. Billy thinks it's two weeks– maybe two and a half– of Steve fumbling over his words around them until Eddie teased him into snarking and sniping back.

So when he drives up on a sunny Sunday afternoon, two days after the fair's opening– Billy had already been with Max once, hopeful as hell, but Steve hadn't been there with the other kids– it is a relief when he rolls up to Eddie's to park, rolls down the window, and kills the engine so that he can turn and look at Billy the same way he had when he'd come to cash in that motorcycle ride.

Arms on the windowsill, chin on his arms, and sunglasses tucked up into his hair as he grins. "Hey there, trouble. Where's your louder half?"

Which is funny. No one ever called Billy quiet when he rolled into Hawkins, as Billy was always posturing, always loud-mouthed and boisterous. But monsters do weird shit to you. So does a realization that the world's bigger than you think.

Billy's drinking a coke. The day's hot but the drink is still ice-cool in his hand, fresh from the fridge. Sweat's already beading on Billy's brow, sticking his hair to his skin—but it's a nice kind of heat. The kind that reminds him that he's alive, warm, and his own person.

"Sleeping," Billy says, gesturing toward Eddie's trailer with his soda. "Probably. I'm not his secretary."

"You certainly don't look like any secretary I've ever seen," Steve replies, tipping his sunglasses down onto his nose so that he can peer over the top edge at him. "Think he'll wake up if I lay on the horn?"

"What, you saying I'm not pretty enough to be a secretary?" Billy says, putting on a pout just for Steve. "I'm hurt, King Steve."

He takes a long sip of his coke, and makes a face when Steve laughs.

"What do you need him for?" he asks, nodding toward Eddie's trailer.

"Robin is working the closing shift tonight," Steve says, reaching for something in his back pocket, and then he's pulling out three tickets and holding them out the window. "And I want to go to the fair."

Well shit. Dreams do come true.

"You asking us to be your dates to the fair, Harrington?" Billy asks, lips curving up into one of his more flirtatious smiles.

"No," Steve insists, face coloring, but he's rolling his eyes and shaking his head with an exasperated grin. "I just need someone to win me all the prizes at the booths. I figure if I can't count on you, Eddie will find a way to cheat."

"He won't have to cheat," Billy says, quick as a shot. "Have more faith in me, pretty boy. I'm gonna win you all the prizes."

And then Billy's pushing himself up from his chair, downing the rest of his coke, and heading toward Eddie's trailer. He doesn't bother knocking, just lets himself in, slipping past a sleeping Wayne on the couch and heading down the narrow hall to Eddie's room.

He finds Eddie on the bed, sprawled out and sleeping with his mouth open. Stalled in his tracks for a hot second, Billy just—watches him. Can't help himself. He's devilishly attractive, but soft too. All long lines and sharp angles.

His shirt has rucked up in sleep. Billy wakes him with a hand brushing over the sliver of skin exposed.

"Hey, Munson."

Eddie smacks his lips, grunting as Billy's fingers skirt against his lower belly. "Mm?"

And Billy wants. The way that he seems to always want Eddie, is deep and overwhelming. Like a gravity well. But Steve's outside and they don't have time. It's fine—they'll have time later.