Chapter Text
Steve Harrington had a secret. A secret he hadn't said to anyone. Not out loud, not in his journal, nowhere. But it burned in his soul, every time he caught a glance of himself as he passed a mirror, every time his fingers brushed his hair back, every gym class he grew to hate.
He was supposed to be the athletic, outgoing King of Hawkins High. The ladies man. The one people either wanted to befriend or fuck. For a while, he was. It wasn't just a persona he had to mentally prepare himself to perform for everyone he's around. But once Billy Hargrove showed up on the scene and overthrew him, taking the crown to his title. And Nancy Wheeler told him in a drunken stupor that their entire relationship was, in her words, bullshit. Then left him for Jonathan Byers, the guy who violated her privacy by taking provocative photos of her, everything changed.
All of a sudden, the former King had fallen from grace. The crown was gone, his heart was broken, the dates dried up and now his confidence was nowhere to be found. He was a shell of his former self. But, when you hit rock bottom, the only place you can go from there is up.
With that, he realized a few things about himself. First, he deserved better. He has his own feelings and doesn't need to be made a fool just by being vulnerable and loving somebody. Second, he didn't need to be in a relationship to have self worth. His friends were enough, and he loved them dearly.
Third, Robin was the best thing to happen to him. Her constant rambles of many different topics at once are usually at least a little informative. Especially the stuff he has no clue about. Like sexuality, and gender. Steve wasn't sure how, but Robin was an expert in all things homosexual, from queer media that she 'forces' Steve to watch because it's important to the culture, to the different sexualities, to the history. He actively encouraged her informative rants, her lectures he called them. Whenever she started, he ate them up, listening intently, especially when it had to do with crossdressing.
Now, Steve never told Robin, but he was interested in learning about all things queer. Maybe she thought he was just being a good ally and wanted to know about his lesbian best friend, but in all actuality, he was trying to figure out what the hell he was. Not straight, that was apparent to him. He liked looking at other men, playing a little rough on the basketball court, renting Top Gun just to watch Tom Cruise over and over again. Hell, he's jerked off to a few of the guys in his class. According to his gay encyclopedia, Robin, being attracted to both men and women is called bisexuality. Was that it? No, that can't be it. His attraction to women plummeted after Nancy.
No, what he really liked was clothing. Women's clothing. Perusing the women's clothing section in random stores of the mall and 'pretending' he's looking for something for his girlfriend when it's really for him. He also enjoyed makeup. He wasn't any good at it, but blowing lipstick kisses at himself in the mirror while home alone stirred something deep inside him. He trusted Robin with his life, but he had no idea how to tell her about this. About how after school, he slips on a dress and pink lipstick and refers to himself as Steph Harrington. Or Sammi Harrington. He was still workshopping the name. Nobody could find out. His life would be over.
Steam still lingered from the showers of the Hawkins locker room. Steve and Billy Hargrove were the last ones in the room, sitting on the same bench. Steve bent over to tie his Nike sneakers, humming a soft tune, some song that Henderson was singing in his car earlier on the way to school.
Billy couldn't help but to look and he spotted a pink piece of fabric. He smirked. "Harrington, is that a thong?"
Steve's cheeks were immediately bright red, his eyes wide. "No! I..." He couldn't think of how to hide it, any excuse in his head was gone. His doe eyes glistened with tears threatening to spill. "Please don't tell anyone."
Billy's face softened, surprised. He's never seen this side of the fabled King Steve. "Woah, Harrington, I didn't realize it was a touchy subject. No need for tears, amigo." Something in him shifted when he saw the man breaking down in front of him. He wasn't sure why he felt this way, he barely knew the guy, but he had to protect Steve. Maybe he saw himself in him. The scared kid with a secret. "Here, sit down, try to calm down. Take some deep breaths. You can't go out there like this. They'll eat you alive."
"Why are you helping me? You're probably just going to tell everyone the second I leave. I'm surprised you're not making fun of me for it now." Steve sat on the bench, tears sliding down his cheeks. He sniffled, looking around, scared, unsure. He shouldn't have been so careless. He's usually better than this!
"Because everyone struggles with something, Harrington, and you're clearly struggling with whatever the hell this is." He waved his hand around. "Hell, even I struggle with things. You don't see me making fun of people with the same issues." He then stood. "Wait, give me a second." Billy walked around the locker room, checking every aisle for a sign of a soul, but found nobody. "We're alone. Your secret is safe with me." He sat down next to Steve, bright blue eyes on the crying man.
"I just..." Steve sniffled, before taking a breath. "Most of the time I don't...feel like a man." His confession was a whisper, as if he was afraid to say it out loud. Speaking it into existence. Making it true. "It's something I've been thinking about for a while now. I mean, the kids I babysit, your sister, actually. Her and El, I let them do my hair and makeup, and I pretend that I hate it, but in reality, it makes me feel really pretty. And my best friend, Robin, made me wear one of her skirts once, and I still think about how good it made me feel, how good I think I looked in it. I want to tell someone, but I'm so afraid of what anyone will say. I don't want to be made fun of. But I..." He dissolved into tears, head in his hands. This was too much for him to handle. He felt bad for dumping all of this on Billy, the guy he was at odds with for the first year they met.
Billy nodded as he listened, gently patting Steve on the back, letting the man get his emotions out. "El is the quiet one? Doesn't talk, just stares?"
Steve nodded. "She's been abused, so she's a slow learner, doesn't trust people easily."
"Poor kid. I know how that is." Billy sat there, his hand now rubbing gentle circles into Steve's back. "So...sometimes you don't feel like a guy? You feel like a girl?" He earned a nod, miniscule, but it was there. "Okay, well why don't you tell your best friend that? I mean, if she truly is your friend, she wouldn't judge."
"I know she won't. She's ga-" Steve shut his mouth then, realizing what he almost did. "She's...understanding. But this is a whole new level of different. I'm just scared."
Billy nodded in understanding. "Well, I get it. You're afraid to tell anyone who you really are because you don't want to be the outcast. So you put on a persona that you really don't want to put on but it's purely for your own protection at this point."
Steve glanced at Billy. "How did you-"
"Like I said, I get it," Billy replied, letting out a sigh. "It's tiring, but I don't want to die. I imagine you feel the same?"
Steve nodded, quiet. He felt better, lighter, now that it's not completely bottled up. He thought Billy would kill him, but was pleasantly surprised. He leaned in, resting his head on the man's broad shoulder, eyes shut. "Thank you for listening," he murmured. He misjudged Billy. Maybe the guy wasn't just an asshole jock. He had layers, his own personal problems, just like Steve. They're not that different after all.
The door opened then, and Tommy Hagan, the school bully, was there, laughing. "I heard the whole thing! You're dead, Harrington!"
Billy immediately stood and grabbed Tommy by the throat, holding him against the wall and pressing down on his windpipe. "If you breathe a word to this to anyone, I'll knock your teeth in so hard, you'll be shitting them out for a week! Got it?" He saw the man's eyes widen in fear. "Good! Now get the fuck out of my face!" He let go of Tommy, watching his smaller frame crumble onto the floor.
The man gasped, eyes wide as he fell to the linoleum, feet scrambling underneath him to get some traction, before he got up and ran off.
Billy reached down, picking up the wallet that fell out of Tommy's pocket. He opened it and pulled out a ten dollar bill, glancing at Steve. "What do you say we skip the rest of the day? Lunch is on Hagan. We can even go to the mall and pick you out some things, pretend we're shopping for our girlfriends," he suggested.
Steve smiled, wiping his eyes, before standing up and moving to Billy. His smile grew as he felt the large, callused hand clap his shoulder. "That's how I got the thong in the first place."
Months passed since that day happened. The pair found themselves in the Harrington household after a long mall trip. Billy sat on Steve's bed as his friend modeled a few dresses he got today, winged eyeliner and baby pink lipstick on his lips completing the look. He's happy, laughing, feeling more free than ever. Billy made him feel more like himself with each mall trip, with each day they hung out.
"Black is a hot color on you. Hell, you're hot in everything."
Steve looked over at Billy, cheeks a sweet shade of pink. "You think so?" He felt shy then, vulnerable, but it wasn't unwelcome.
"Oh, I know so, Sammi," Billy replied, signature smirk on his lips.
The blush deepened. "Sammi..." He repeated. "Sammi Harrington. I like that." He had been toying with the name for a long while now, but hearing himself being called it out loud for the first time... It made it real.
"Well, then I'll call you that whenever you want." Billy bit his lip, reaching over and pulling Steve closer to him. He fixed the hemline of the dress, smoothing it out. "There. You're perfect."
Steve turned around, breath caught in his throat as he looked at himself in the mirror. "Hey, Billy?"
"Yeah?"
Something clicked in Steve then. The makeup, his longer hair, the dress and matching knee high stockings. "Can you call me Sammi all the time? Even when I'm not in makeup?"