It's The First Pride Steve Ever Goes To. It's 1986, He's In San Francisco, Far Away From Hawkins And

It's the first pride Steve ever goes to. It's 1986, he's in San Francisco, far away from Hawkins and its horrors, walking along the street with Robin.

She grins and Steve can see it in her eyes, a new sense of belonging, a relief, a we're not alone, shining brighter than the sun. Behind them someone yells the theme: "Forward Together, No Turning Back".

He feels like there is a wound in his soul and now it's like the words pull the splinter out. He never wants to go back to Indiana again.

He turns around the corner, following the masses and he gets so distracted by all the shirtless guys, he nearly bumps into the one in front of him.

"Sorry," Steve says, his mouth hanging open when he comes face to face with Billy Hargrove. Who died at Starcourt a year ago.

Billy who blinks at him, blue eyes full of life and now- confusion. He's still rocks his mullet, only now he's wearing a pink scrunchie. He isn't wearing a shirt. There is a big scar just below his sternum, thin lines stretching from it towards his shoulders and abs like an exploding star. There is glitter on them, sparkling in colors of the rainbow.

Robin's elbow hits his side. Steve is staring, but he can't look away.

"Eyes up here, Harrington." Billy snaps his fingers in front of Steve's face. "What are you doing here?" he says accusatory like he isn't the one thought dead.

"Because I belong here," Steve snaps. It has taken so much time and nearly dying at the claws of Demodogs and the teeth of bats to break down the barriers of what he thought he had to do and what he wanted to. No fucking way he's going to let Billy say anything against that.

Billy stares at him, scars glittering in the sun.

"Same," he mumbles. Steve's pulse stutters for a few seconds.

Billy then grins boyishly at Steve, reminding him of the Billy who rubbed against him at practice and always stole his soap in the showers, the one he rarely got to see and never did against after the sad excuse for a fight at the Byers' house.

"Steve Harrington! As I live and breathe." Billy laughs and slings his arm around Steve's shoulder. "A fucking queer like me."

"Yeah," Robin interrupts. "How are you still breathing, Hargrove?"

Billy rubs his chest, one arm still around Steve. A bit of glitter stays on his fingers.

"No fucking idea," he says. "I just know I wanna get wasted tonight."

Robin opens her mouth to possibly ask a million questions, but Steve's mouth is faster. Even though he didn't plan on saying anything.

"Can I buy you a drink then?" he blurts out.

Billy nearly trips. Steve laughs into his ear. He made Billy Hargrove stumble. By asking him out. This is the best day of his life.

"Fucking unbelievable." Robin rolls her eyes.

There is a shade of pink on Billy's nose and it's not from the sun. "I promised Heather I'd at least make it to-"

"Heather?" Robin's face lightens. "Holloway? Is she alive, too?"

"You bet your ass, Buckley," a voice behind them says. "Let's ditch these idiots after the parade."

Heather winks at Billy, a similar pink scrunchie in her hair and popping a bubble gum with the same color.

"Bitch," Billy says without malice.

"But your best one." Heather blows him a kiss and grabs Robin's arm.

Billy grins at Steve. Steve grins back. He wants to kiss him on his thin blond mustache. Maybe he will, tonight.

Forward together, no turning back.