driving | open post;

[ Continued from here. ]

Why?

[ He doesn't really want to go anywhere with Steve, but he's tipsy enough that he's suggestable even if he questions it, so he grabs the bag he got from the liquor store and gets into the BMW.

He opens another can of beer now that he's not the one driving and takes a few sips as he looks around. ]

You coulda got a way cooler car for the money.

[ The fact that some people might actually prioritize solid build quality and safety features over picking the slickest, loudest, fastest car possible is foreign to him. ]

[ The dark blue Camaro rolls slowly down the alleyway, leaning hard on one side. One of the rear tires has blown out, though the single occupant seems a great deal too stressed out for a simple flat tire. ]

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck - [ Billy steps out of the car, pacing around a bit before doing something that looks like a poor attempt at a breathing exercise. He pops his trunk open and pulls out a jack, a lug wrench, and a spare tire before he gets to changing out the flat. With the speed he works one would think he's auditioning for a pit crew, and all the while he's cussing like a sailor.

Today has not been Billy's day. He just spent two hours stuck in traffic and half an hour of that was spent pulled over by the cops who were certain that he was on something and didn't let him go until he walked back and forth in a straight line twenty times and recited the whole alphabet backward. Fuck them, no one can recite the alphabet backward on the first try. To top it all off, the second he got going at a decent speed again his tire blew out and he had to slowly roll somewhere secluded so he could change it. After spending the better part of the day sitting still or being provoked, he'd be surprised if he made it through the tire change without setting something off.

And he doesn't. Right on queue, the bulb of a nearby lamppost burst as flame starts to engulf it. He jumps back a bit at the noise, wiping the sweat from his brow. ] Yeah, fuck you, too.

[ He flips the lamppost off, as if that'll help anything. It's a better outcome than he expected, though: at least he didn't torch his precious car or get himself into a world of trouble by setting one of those cops on fire. He's almost relieved until he sees some pale bastard dressed in all black standing in the shadows and staring right at him.

Billy just stares at Klaus slack-jawed for a moment, his cigarette falling out of his mouth and onto the ground. ] Dammit. [ He'd been caught red handed. What the hell should he do about that? Well, it was just a lamppost, and the guy he was looking at didn't exactly scream 'credible witness'. It's alright, it's alright, he'll just slip back into his car and drive away.

But as he reaches for the handle, a nearby trashcan starts to smoke, and then smolder, and then - well, that fluffy jacket his observer was wearing was about ten seconds away from lighting up like a bonfire.

He considers just driving off. He really does. But whatever sorry excuse of a conscience he has is still one step above letting someone who hadn't even pissed him off burn up in a back alleyway. ]

Hey, you, uh - [ He gestures to the trash can. ] You should get away from that.

[ Continued from here. ]

I got you when it comes to a lot of things, but I can't make $20 appear out of nowhere. I got another bullshit speeding ticket

I'll just steal the beer

Edited 2019-05-10 23:15 (UTC)

[Awareness comes in waves.

Vaguely Steve remembers that he'd been out looking for Billy Hargrove. Max thought something weird was up with him, like Upside Down weird. Steve wasn't about to let the kids hunt down Billy on their own, especially if something was up with him.

He'd driven around Hawkins, looking for the familiar Camaro. He'd found it, and--

Movement nearby distracts him, and he turns his head towards it, vision blurring into focus.

It dawns on him that he doesn't know where he is. Or how he got here. Or anything that happened after finding the Camaro. ]

Who's there? Hargrove? The hell's going on?

[ Out of all the stores in Starcourt, Steve had to work at Scoops Ahoy. God, look at that dumbass in his little sailor outfit.

Billy leans over the counter, ringing the bell for service. ] You do free samples here, Harrington?

[ Sansa could hardly believe it.

Not only was she going down to King's Landing but she was betrothed to the prince. She was going to marry a handsome prince who would be a brave and noble king and she would be his queen. It was everything she could've hoped for. She even got to ride in the same carriage as the princess. It was all so lovely despite the long days of swaying and bumping along the road.

Even when they stopped at an Inn halfway there, her and Arya able to sleep in real beds, Sansa found herself impatient to keep going and get to the capital. But there was no such luck as all of King Robert's men and her father's needed rest. Arya had run off somewhere and Sansa couldn't find the prince, either. So, with Lady next to her, ribbons around her neck and a soft leather strap as a leash for her, she walks around outside the inn, mainly sticking to the Northern men of her father. She recognizes most of them.

Including one that is a bit younger and struggling with mending something. She thinks to leave him to it but then notices him pricking his finger. Deciding against her first impulse, Sansa goes over to William Mormont, steering Lady to come with her. Once she's close enough, ]

Do you need help with that?

[ Billy always likes to hang out around the beach, because that's where all the people were and he has an innate need to show off. Plus, it's as good of a place as any to work on his tan.

Or, as the case might be today, it's a good place to splash Korra while she's relaxing on the beach.

Which he does. Right now. And that tail of his can send quite a bit of water her way.

Sorry, Korra, it's just his way of saying hi. ]

Is that good, or do you want it warmer?

[ Billy knelt behind the tub, one hand in the bath water so he could use his powers to keep it nice and warm as he ran his fingers through Klaus's long hair with his other hand. He wasn't doing this because he cared about Klaus, or anything like that. This was just a casual hookup. He'd had plenty of those before. It just so happens that he was a bit rougher than he usually was (though the other Number Four didn't seem to mind at all), so he wanted to make sure that everything was alright afterwards.

Basic courtesy, that's all, combined with the fact that the rest of those Umbrella guys might decide to kick his ass if Klaus complained about him. Not feelings. Definitely not.

Maybe he enjoyed massaging shampoo into Klaus's hair. Maybe he enjoyed running a sponge over his back and chest where freshly formed bruises from their time in bed were starting to show. Klaus was physically attractive so that didn't necessarily mean anything, right? He just liked to touch an attractive person. Who didn't? ]

steve harrington / mrmom;

umbrella academy au - for hellseher

tfln / kingsteve;

hi hi hi

no subject