I'm fine, I promise.

sick of your charm

"That sounds a lot like conditioning to me, Harrington, which is very unhealthy. But in all seriousness, if this all goes south, very one hundred it's going to be, don't force us together. It'll make it worse. Right now, for tonight, I'm fine with all your little schemes to make us one big happy fucking family, but cool down with all this grouping stuff. I'm not use to it, they're not use to it. Seriously, Steve." Billy says grabbing the plates, not Mrs. Harrington's special china, but the ordinary dark teal plates, and putting them down around the table.

"Pretending to like people I don't is very hard on me, to make it look passible as the truth and very noticeable that I'm talking out of my ass. I'll act civil if they act civil is all I'm saying. I'm not, and won't ever, let those little fuckers run wild and take the piss out me just because they're yours. I'll keep myself in check for dinner and won't be as ruthless, but this only applies for tonight. Since I know how much this means to you, Bambi, I'll keep things . . .nice."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment. Billy is right: forcing them together isn't a good idea, but this isn't really forcing them though. He invited  them over. They came over at their own will and if Billy didn't like it when he told him, he could've said. Steve would of cancelled the whole thing if it made him that uncomfortable. That's what he wanted to say, but starting an argument before they came would unleash a shit storm, possibly dragging the kids into it and leading to worse feeling about each other.

 "I won't." he tells him and continues to finish up the food while Billy makes the table. 

This better not be an utter fucking train wreck.

Steve has had enough shit going sideways lately. Even though most stuff was super awesome. Billy living with him = kickass. No more upside down fuckery = ecstatic. Getting over Nancy = very very amazing. 

Still things could be better, and this counted of his list of better. How could both side of his friends, he cares very much about, not like each other? They don't have to become best friends, talking about the people they think are fit, braiding each others hair, having sleepovers, none of that shit. All he wants is them being on good terms; good enough terms that every encounter doesn't end with awkward staring and arguments. 

He is so sick and goddamn tired of the weird feeling in the air whenever their around each other. Change isn't so bad. He was an asshole, now he's not. Good change.

Forcing Billy to do stuff he doesn't want to do, ends in two ways. He either bullshits his way through the situation, showing his sharp, white teethed smile and flirts to make the whole thing go by faster. Or, he shits on everything, and everything means everything. Exactly zero effort; he doesn't try whatsoever. It's like dealing with a rowdy toddler and trying to them dressed for the morning, but their ass is glued to the floor watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, crying every time you try to move them. (The first and last time he ever babysitted, never again.)

For the next twenty or so minutes, Steve spent his time ''presenting''  the food. Even though he would, and will, argue up and down that Etiquette and Cotillion lessons are bullshit, but if he sees a table out of order he fucking starts steaming. Like if the family has the right dishes and number of silverware, they better fucking use it.

 Letting four years of spending his weekends memorizing what spoon goes where and how many forks use, it just letting those years and shit lessons going to waste. Might as well make it have a use, and it sure as hell makes a difference.

~

While Steve did all his "rich boy fancy order shit'', Billy made the side dishes since 'what fucking meal only has a entree, what the hell is this a fucking barn, not having sides or any goddamn desert, what the hell!' (Who knew Bambi cared so much about something as rando, as dining bullshit.)

He busies making the side course, which was basically looking over the recipes and then asking Steve what to do every five minutes, and getting out the dessert. Cooking and all this apron shit isn't really something that he's use to. Stuff like cooking and cleaning, unless it was punishment, was Susan's job. Neil considers those ''women's'' jobs, and even making a "fag" like Billy would be too unhuman. 

Billy voiced his opinion to Neil multiple times, espically to Susan, that what he thought was bullshit, earning his a hit or two. Even if Susan was never someone he would personally respect ever, giving her all those responsiblities to keep up with every day sounds fucking terrible.

 For the last few years he's been doing his own laundry and cleaning, having her come in and out of his room whenever she felt like it was dirty was not something he needed and honestly would make him stressed as hell. Certain . . .materials didn't need to be revealed to the world; although, seeing her expression when she found them would definetly make his whole week, no matter the punishment. 

To help lighten the load, he would clean up after himself like a responsible human fucking being, what was he an animal. (In some concepts yes, but not in this one.) Doing these little things for her played out well in his favor. Being caught sneaking out or not doing punishments was overlooked when Susan was the only one there.

 Her sneaking around and helping him made up for some of the shit she could of stopped and improved their not really relationship, not as many awkward silences and direct aggressive comments. (Billy doesn't do passive aggressiveness, either say what you mean or shut the yell up.)

As boring as it is, listening to the record player Steve owned while cooking was actually pretty soothing and something he didn't know he would of wanted. His house, fuck his old house, was full of high tension like something bad could happen at any moment and eventually it would.  He knew families weren't suppose to be like his and most weren't, he just didn't know anything else but his this kind of life. 

Hanging around Bambi opened him up how families were suppose to act, even if they were a different type of family. With family you suppose to be able to talk about important things without the fear of being hurt for them, not having to walk on egg shells, can be yourself. It was an odd couple of months at first, but he slowly got into the push and pull of things. 

Billy didn't think anything this good would be able to happen to him, for a while he didn't he deserved it, but Bambi opened his eyes over time. Now that he thinks about it, getting along with those little fuc- kids wouldn't be that hard. Sure Little Wheeler, Dustin (he had to know his name after Steve talks about twenty-four seven), and Max have fucking mouths on them, the others doesn't even try to speak to him, which he's perfectly okay with. 

If biting his tongue and holding hismelf back meant making Bambi happy, he would totally do it. After all he had done for him especially let him live in his damn house after that admittably fucked up shit he had done to him, he deserved it and if having to put him pride on the line meant that, Billy would just buck up and . . .push throught it. 

Ring. Ring. Ring-Ring-Ring. 

"Steve! We're here! Let us in! Never mind I'm just gonna unlock the door! Before you ask, I found the spare key a couple weeks ago and really Steve, I'm honestly disappointed! Do you wanna be robbed and then murder? Under the fucking mat? What the hell!" came the voice of the curly hedgehog muffled by the door.

"Quit fucking yelling, Dustin! I'll be there in a goddamn minute! Stop with the fucking doorbell!" Steve yells while walking to the kitchen, walking faster when the doorbell doesn't stop.

"sigh . . .it hasn't even started yet and I'm already annoyed."

i'm gonna try to update every week or so, maybe twice a week, but this proably won't be happening until the start of February, when my extra curriculars end. by the way, SUPER FLUFFY HARRINGROVE FLUFF WILL BE HAPPENING IN UPCOMING CHAPTERS //o,o// this is gonna be fun :'3