5 Works in Drummer Billy Hargrove
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On his way to an interview, Steve Harrington happens to share an elevator with Billy Hargrove, the man he's been fighting with over social media since they met two years ago. He doesn't know why Billy hates him, but he's not about to let it go unanswered, so he hates him right back. But while on the elevator, the power cuts out, and it gets stuck with just the two of them inside. They're about ready to tear each other's heads off, but then Billy does something unexpected: He kisses Steve to prove a point. And unfortunately for him, Steve is too competitive to let Billy get the last word.
Series
- Part 8 of Harringrove Summer Bingo 2024
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“You were great tonight by the way,” I complimented him.
“Yeah, was a good one. Hargrove could’ve gone a bit harder,” he said with a light slur through his groans, his voice picking up in volume and I saw Billy in front of me.
“Yeah, fuck you, man. Y’know my arm’s sore,” he replied and kicked Eddie’s leg. I giggled, knowing exactly what it was from. Billy smirked at me and winked.
“Where the fuck is Harrington?”
“I saw him passed out on the kitchen island,” I said and looked in the general direction of where I had just come from, but there were just too many people in the way. “They were doing body shots.”
“Body shots and you’re here?” He asked, acting surprised. I rolled my eyes at him, pushing back into the worn out couch that was a lot more comfortable than it should have been. Billy didn’t break our eye contact and kneeled down in front of me. With the closer proximity I noticed his blown pupils.
“Did you want something else?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
Eddie was back to sticking his tongue down the girl’s throat and I saw his hand under her skirt out of the corner of my eye.
I bit my lip, “maybe.” -
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Billy and Steve’s relationship from 1986 and onwards.
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This had to be the stupidest thing Robin has dragged him to -- ever. Shit, he’s a fucking high school science teacher - anatomy, to be specific - standing in the middle of an Indianapolis gay punk bar the day before the first day of school, his first day of teaching. His hand was clasped around a beer that he didn’t even want because he was too scared of judgment to order a red wine or something on the spicier side like a margarita or sangria or even a rosé if he was feeling bougie, but no. People were already staring because of his outfit and big circular gold glasses, he wasn’t about to give them another reason.
or: teacher!steve and drummer!billy fuck at billy's band's show.