33. Chapter 33

Billy wakes up on the couch in the Harrington’s living room with no recollection of how he got their and a small black and brown ball of fur sleeping on his chest. Frowning, he shifts, one hand reaching out to poke the little mound.

A head appears out of the ball, and a small muzzle splits into a wide, pink yawn.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. It’s one of the puppies Axel had found— which, why the fuck are there puppies in the woods, anyway? Are they feral? They’re probably all feral.

The puppy turns, blinking, then starts wriggling towards his face, tongue stretched out to lick at his chin.

Billy sits up, and the puppy falls into his lap with a surprised yelp.

“Why the— oh.” He remembers now, sort of. After the kids had gone, safely driven home by Hopper and Joyce, Colleen had broken out her special cookies with a wink, and soon enough one of Axel’s puppies had found its way onto Billy’s lap. Billy had fallen in love with the little thing almost instantly, and had refused to let anyone— Axel or otherwise— take it away.

Colleen even took pictures, fuck.

Sighing to himself, he runs his fingers through the dog’s odd, stringy fur. It could be part German Shepherd, based on the coloring, but the fur…

The puppy licks enthusiastically at his fingers, chewing at the tips. It’s probably hungry— Billy knows he is.

That’s when he notices the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. Smirking to himself, Billy scoops the puppy into his arms and pushes himself to his feet, padding into the kitchen with a goal.

The table is packed, Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, Kali, and Axel all looking distinctly hungover as they poke at their eggs. Colleen is at the stove, whistling cheerfully around the cigarette tucked between her lips as she flips bacon with a long-handled fork.

“Why the fuck are you so chipper?” Axel demands quietly. His mohawk is crooked, likely flattened by sleep, and his eyeliner is smeared down his cheeks. “You outdrank Colleen for fuck’s sake.”

Billy gives him a sunny smile.

“I don’t get hangovers,” he says. “Scottish genes.”

“Screw this illusion shit,” Kali mutters from her place beside Nancy. “I want that superpower.”

Nancy giggles then whines, reaching up to press her fingers to her temple.

“Ow,” she groans. “It hurts to laugh.”

“Or breathe. Or swallow. Or see.” Jonathan has apparently given up on his food, as is instead slumped back in his chair, arms crossed and chin pressed to his chest. “I wanna die.”

“I’m never drinking again,” Steve agrees quietly, eyes screwed shut against the light of the sun filtering in through the windows.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Stevie,” Billy says, reaching out to slap him on the back hard enough to make the other boy squeak. “Practice makes perfect, after all.” He snags Jonathan’s mostly untouched plate and has a seat beside Axel, setting the puppy on his lap. The puppy immediately tries for the plate, catching a piece of bacon much too big for its mouth but not seeming to mind at all. Billy snorts and picks up a fork, spearing a mouthful of eggs for himself.

“How’s SPG?” Steve asks. It takes Billy a minute to realize it’s him that Steve’s talking to.

“Who?”

Steve nods at the puppy in his lap, and— oh. Right. Billy named the thing. After a hamster from a fucking comedy show.

“Uh…”

“She’s yours now,” Axel informs him. “You named her, she’s yours.”

“Uh, are you sure it’s a girl?”

Axel nods.

“Pretty sure,” he says. “But you didn’t seem to care much, said ‘Special Patrol Group’ was an okay name for a girl, too.”

“Oh, Billy, you were so cute when you fell asleep with her,” Colleen coos over his shoulder, sliding more bacon and eggs onto his plate. “She cuddled right up to you.”

“I don’t think Joyce is going to be okay with a dog,” Billy says after a moment, looking down at SPG.

“She will,” Jonathan says, unmoving. “Will took one home, too.”

“You also called Max and told her you’d get her a rat when you guys got a place to live,” Nancy feels the need to add. “Since it was only fair that if you had a pet, she had one too.”

“I did?” Billy can’t picture it. He fucking hates rats, they skeeve him the fuck out. “Shit.”

“Yep.” Nancy rolls her neck carefully. “And you’re gonna do it, too, because Max seemed really excited.”

… Fuck, yeah. He probably is. God, he’s an idiot when he’s fucked up.

“I hate rats,” he mutters. “They’ve got weird eyes.”

Steve snorts, eyes still closed.

“Maybe I’m not the only one who should stop drinking,” he says. “I may be hungover, but I didn’t adopt a fucking dog.”

Billy frowns, scratching behind SPG’s ears.

“Look at her, though,” he says. “She’s adorable.”

“Like Jane, yes, you told us,” Kali agrees, smiling slightly. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she? Her and Max.”

Billy goes pink.

“I think it’s sweet,” Nancy says. “It’s nice to know you’re not all asshole inside, Billy.”

Billy scoffs.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart,” he says. “I haven’t even tried being mean to you, yet.”

Nancy shrugs, apparently unbothered.

“You won’t,” she says. “You like me.”

And goddammit, Billy doesn’t have anything to say to that because, well, he does.

Goddammit.

*.*

Steve ends up having to drive everybody home, which is interesting because that’s six people in a five person car, two dogs in a box, and a third dog in Billy’s lap. The ride is cramped, to say the least, but it isn’t unpleasant, because there’s music and chatter and Jonathan handing out the most interesting polaroids out of the pile Colleen had shoved in his hands before they left.

The ones with Billy in them always seem to catch him laughing if he’s not making faces, pressed up against Kali’s side or with an arm thrown over Steve’s shoulder.

“Oh, this one’s fantastic,” Jonathan says suddenly, reaching over the front seat to hand Billy a photo.

It’s Billy, mouth slightly open in sleep with his head on Steve’s shoulder, one arm wrapped around Kali’s waist as she leans into his chest. Axel’s mohawk is crushed against Billy’s thigh, the punk’s head pillowed in Kali’s lap with his legs thrown over the armrest of the couch. SPG is curled up in the curve of Billy’s neck and shoulder, one paw hanging over the edge.

“Oh, you’re so cute,” Nancy says, and the only reason Billy doesn’t snap at her for reaching out to ruffle his hair is because he knows it already looks like shit. “Like a little angel.”

Angel. His mother used to call him that, twisting his curls fondly as she cut his hair in their little bathroom off Sunset Boulevard. She’d had curls like his, he remembers, long, golden curls that she never had to spray because they always stuck up just the way she wanted.

“I’m the one that gets called pretty boy and he gets all the compliments,” Steve grumbles, watching Billy warily thanks to whatever expression he must be making. “What the hell kind of a world do I live in?”

“Oh, stop complaining, Stevie,” Nancy says, but she’s smiling, distracted from Billy and the sudden stiffness in the way he’s sitting.

She’s their first stop, then Hopper’s, because Steve is still a little scared to be alone with Kali and Axel even though they literally watched the two of them coo at puppies all night. Then, when the car is mostly-empty and quiet again, they pull up to the Byers’.

Jonathan’s out in a moment, no doubt making a beeline for his bed, but Billy takes his time, shaking the stiffness out of his muscles as he gathers up SPG and the box of leftover cookies that Colleen had made them that Will and Max are not allowed to touch.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asks, fingers cold where they meet Billy’s elbow. “You kinda went a little weird back there.”

Billy tries a smile, but it feels false enough that he knows it doesn’t work without meeting Steve’s eyes.

“Just fine, Stevie,” he says. “Had a thought, that’s all. Happens, sometimes.”

Steve gives him a searching look, then sighs.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” he says. “Tell Joyce I say hi, okay?”

“Will do.”

“And don’t eat all those fucking cookies yourself— I’m coming over tomorrow.”

Billy wants to ask why, but he doesn’t. He just gives Steve a little salute and gets out of the car just as Will comes running around the side of the house.

“Billy, look!” Will shouts, and sure enough, there’s a puppy trailing after him at full speed. “Phoenix won’t run away!”

Billy lets out a little laugh as Will tears past him, grinning as he runs like the devil’s after him. Billy has to hand it to the puppy— it’s doing pretty well, considering.

Steve waits until Billy gets to the door, which speaks to a lot of time spent watching little kids, and gives him a little wave when he looks back before pulling away from the curb.

Steve’s kind of a weird guy, but Billy finds himself liking him anyway.