bootymunchh
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Summary
That night, 1984
Steve sits at the kitchen table, a pack of frozen carrots wrapped in a tea towel against his swollen purple face. "I'm fine," he says. It’s over. They fought the monsters, and they won. Now he can rest.
Except in real life, the credits don't roll, and they don't get to skip ahead to Christmas.
NOW COMPLETE!
Series
- Part 1 of Second Thoughts
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 245,879
- Chapters:
- 70/70
- Collections:
- 11
- Comments:
- 3,544
- Kudos:
- 8,301
- Bookmarks:
- 1,730
- Hits:
- 279,083
Bookmarked by bootymunchh
15 Jul 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
will i ever finish this? stay tuned to find out
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Summary
Billy feels anger start simmering in him. “You don’t know me well enough to give me a nickname.”
“Well, you seem to be very comfortable calling me pretty boy, so - ”
“I’ll make sure to never say it again, then.”
They stare at each other for a moment. Steve just looks bewildered, yet incredibly amused. He finally just snorts and raises his hands as if he’s surrendering. “No more cowboy. I get it.” He takes a long sip of his wine, before perking up and pointing at him. “Wait, so is Billy the Kid off the table?? Because I’ve been saving that one.”
Billy squints at him, tries to kill him with his mind.
“I mean, it’s right there. No?”
When it’s clear Billy isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a response, Steve sighs and shrugs.
“Fine.” He finishes off his wine, waves a server down, and then orders another. Once the drink is delivered, he looks at Billy for a moment, really examines him. “Shot in the dark here - and I’m spitballing - but I’m getting the impression that we are not friends.”
OR
The rockstar AU where Billy, a nobody, gets roped into being troubled popstar Steve Harrington's publicity boyfriend. Neither of them are happy about it.
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Summary
Steve is having the absolute worst day of his life... and then his car gets towed.
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Steve left the bathroom with blood and bullshit pounding in his ears. Bullshit. He knew he should go back. Help Nancy get home, help her change out of her drink-covered shirt, tuck her into bed, and tell her they would talk in the morning. He knew he should go back. But Steve, to his core, was an angry, selfish little boy. And that selfish little boy wanted to get fucking hammered.
Jonathan would get Nancy home, anyway.
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“Get out of the car,” Hopper says, finally, and Billy blows air out hard, breaking open the thin scabbing on his lip again.
He fumbles with the door, climbs out and stands there, his feet hot and sweating inside his sneakers. It’s awful, Hopper is looking at him with something like pity, enough silent sadness to infuriate him, and Billy can’t figure out how to get past this moment - and then. He doesn’t need to, because everything changes.