STRANGER THINGS CHARACTERS ONESHOTS

Billy Hargrove - Standing In The Rain

You felt like absolute shit. You were so stupid to fucking walk to the Wheeler's. It was cloudy, and you knew that, but you thought it would be fine. Fine. Well, standing barely sheltered from the pouring rain on the Wheeler's front door step in the biting cold is not fine. Not fine at all.

You cursed as you hit the doorbell over and over again, already planning how you would yell at your brother for being so late. Mrs and Mr Wheeler were out for the night, and you guessed the kids were in the basement, which explains the long time it was taking for one of them to hear your doorbell rings.

You were frightened by a booming sound of, what you predicted to be, a sports car. It was, you found out, as you turned towards the sound to be greeted by the unfortunate sight of Billy Hargrove's blue Camaro. You rolled your eyes, as he got out hurriedly, covering his head with a black leather jacket. He rushed towards the front door step for shelter from the pelting rain. It looked like he only realized you were there once he was five feet away.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Henderson," he breathed, shaking his leather jacket to get off any droplets. "How long have you been standing here?"

"Ten minutes," you groaned, violently attacking the front door bell with your fist.

Hargrove huffed as he adjusted his shirt. Then, glancing at you, he seemed amused. "You're going to break that."

"You're right, I should save my energy for breaking the kid's arm."

The strawberry blonde laughed. His laugh was confident and charming, head thrown back in absolute carelessness. You couldn't help but look.

"Well, the bitch in there's in trouble, too," he muttered, glaring at the doorbell.

You frowned at him. "Don't call your sister that, Hargrove."

He turned to you sharply at the change in tone. "She's not my sister.". You were unfazed; he was obviously the type with all bark and no bite.

"She is," you replied calmly. "And even if she wasn't, you're really gonna call a kid a 'bitch'?"

"Yes, Henderson, I would if it's the truth."

Bitchass Billy would never change. Your face pinched in irritation, turning towards him as if offended. "You're such a fucking asshole."

"Thanks, honey," he smirked flirtatiously as a comeback, so obnoxious it oozed out of him.

You gritted your teeth and faced forward. You could feel his gaze on you though, as he sighed, deep and low. Just then, the door swung open; Will Byers looking up at the both of you from behind it with wide, nervous eyes.

"Will," you chastised, hands on hips as you walked in, followed by Hargrove. "What did I say about keeping the basement door open so you can hear me?"

He spoke quickly, eyes switching between you and Hargrove, who was talking off his shoes and closing the door behind him. "I know, (y/n), I'm sorry, I really am. It's just that we—we were excited about the campaign and Eddie and—"

"Munson's here?" Hargrove spoke up, now on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

Will looked pleased, as if he'd escaped your wrath with a nice distraction. "Uh—yes! Yeah, he's here, in the basement."

"Cool." Hargrove grinned and got up from his seat, walking towards the basement stairs, boot steps echoing around the house.

You rolled your eyes as you heard the muffled 'hey, man!' and then what you assumed to be pats on the back and more overlapping bro-talk.