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“Mm baby.”
Billy gasps as big, brown eyes stare up at him from where his dick is disappearing between spit-slick lips, and digs his fingers into thick brown hair for something to hold onto. Harrington is a pro at this. Sinful. He swallows Billy down into his throat and moans soft like Billy’s doing him a favor, and Billy can feel the shock of it all the way through his body. He groans and pulls Harrington back up to his feet and finds his mouth for a filthy kiss as he slips his hand down over the unmistakable shape of his dick in his basketball shorts.
“Goddamn you look so good in these,” he growls, and grins when he feels it jump against his hand. Billy licks the sweat from Harrington’s skin. His moles. Slips his fingers just a little up into his shorts and finds Steve’s throbbing cock waiting there, out in the open. “Hanging out like this during practice,” he teases. “For anyone to ride.”
In a minute he’s got Steve on his back in the middle of the court with his cock poking out of his shorts, his own clothes long forgotten. Billy lines them up and starts to sink down onto Steve’s cock with a long, satisfied moan, and he’s never been so perfectly filled. So stretched. It’s ecstasy. It's—
Billy wakes up with a jerk at the sound of his alarm and jumps to shut it off on pure, hateful instinct. He takes a moment to get his bearings. Bedroom, sunlight, tape still running on nothing for the past 6 hours in the tape deck. Shit.He turns that off too and glances down at his lap as the movement makes him groan a little. He can feel the uncomfortable, cooling wetness where his come is starting to stick to skin and fabric. He groans and swings his legs out of bed.
Goddamn Indiana.
Two hours later Billy is sucking on a lollipop in place of a missed breakfast, leaning against his locker and enjoying one of Hawkins High’s almost comically long passing periods. He could be one hall away, spending the next couple minutes with his new friends, but they are all in couples since that Monday, which just leaves Billy feeling miserable to hang around with.“Here comes the princess. Lookin’ real good in that cardigan, huh Stevie?”Billy watches as Harrington elbows his friend in the stomach and smiles dopily when some pretty brunette glances up at him as she walks past. She and her friend share a look, but when they keep walking, Steve turns and hits Hayward again.“Jesus, you’re such a dick,” he complains. “Don’t blow my chances at this before I even get to talk to her, alright?”“Talk to her. Sure, man…” Hayward grins, big, shit-eating, until he spots Billy watching them from across the hall.“You got a problem, Hargrove?”Billy sucks his teeth and smiles, not ducking from Hayward’s freckly glower.“Why would I have a problem?” he drawls back, nice and easy. “Just watchin’ you two gossip over there all pretty like a couple of chicks. You should go for it, Harrington,” he says, glancing down the hall at where Wheeler disappeared around the corner a minute ago. “The quiet ones are always the kinkiest, right? Well, that’s what they say, anyway.” Billy grins and licks his teeth predatorily.And Harrington had been watching after the girl till that point, not even paying attention to Tommy and him, but now he looks at him and the open, easy smile on his face turns into something else quick. Billy feels warm all over under that glare.“Hey man,” he says. “I know it must be a bit confusing for you, all new here, whole new locker combination to memorize, that’s gotta be tough. But I’ll tell you this only once. Don’t talk about Nancy Wheeler that way.”Billy feels a pleasant shiver at that. The little bit of threat in Harrington’s big, dark eyes and the way he doesn’t seem to even notice he’s clenching his fist a bit. He wants to push him further. See how far he’ll go to defend the honor of a girl that, far as Billy can see, won’t even give him the time of day. Yet, if rumors of Harrington's prowess are to be believed, and Billy believes.But the bell rings for first period, and Billy can’t be late for math again. Fucking pop-quizzes. So he shrugs off of his locker and flashes Harrington a cheeky wink instead.“Thanks for the tip, amigo,” he says as he turns to head to class. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”“Yeah, you’re welcome, amigo,” Steve replies, and the last thing Billy can see of him is the rolling of his eyes as he makes a right when Billy turns left.By the time Billy sees him again, sitting only a few seats away in Spanish class, he seems to have forgotten all about Billy’s very existence.Again.Fucking pretty boy’s got the memory of a goldfish, Billy grumbles to himself, but he’s gonna get through to King Steve somehow or other, dammit. He’ll find a way to get under his skin sooner or later.But it’s like fate is actively working against him on that score. They ought to have a couple more classes together that day, but Steve is sitting on the other side of the lab in Biology, no chance of being grouped together, and he actually seems to skip homeroom and Geography. After a quiet, boring hour of drawing maps, Billy wishes he had skipped, too.After school, though, he finally runs into Steve again. Right in the hallway on the way to the exit, chatting up Nancy Wheeler.“Chemistry? Oh yeah, Kaminsky’s tests are the worst, aren’t they?”Wheeler shrugs and half-closes her locker, seeming to forget what she was doing with it in the first place.“I guess,” she says. “Barb is coming over to study though. We’re gonna eat junk food and run through the quizzes together, it’s like a whole thing.” She seems to notice how she sounds and laughs a little, glancing up at Steve like she wants his approval.
Goddamn, he’s good.
A part of Billy’s mind, the one that gave him that fucking dream last night, just wants to watch and imagine himself in Nancy Wheeler’s place when he gets home tonight. The louder part of him, though, just wants to break something. He decides to split the difference.“You know, a couple of the crowd are getting together by the quarry tonight…” is the last thing he can hear Steve say as he steps closer to them, and damned if both of them don’t take a full second to even notice him there.“Oh yeah -- Nancy, right? You should totally come,” he says with a wide smile and slings a friendly arm around Steve’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be great,” he gushes, “and you know our Steve knows how to treat a lady right…” He winks at her and is pleased to see the look of confusion on her face giving way to a bit of a blush.Steve tries to shrug off his arm, muttering, “what the hell are you doing?” but Billy ignores him.“You don’t want to miss out on all this,” he tells Nancy with a smile and puts a hand in the center of Steve’s chest. “Trust me. He’s gonna make your fucking night. I mean, have you seen what he keeps in those basketball shorts?” He glances downward as if he can see it even now, because he can.Nancy very carefully doesn’t look. But by the time Steve shoves Billy away and growls, “shut up, asshole,” she is slamming her locker shut and turning the other way.“No, wait… Nancy—” Steve tries, but she's already gone, fleeing towards the exit. Steve turns to Billy now, and he is livid.“What the fuck?”Billy has to adjust his stance a little as Steve rounds on him with that glint back in his eyes and he feels his jeans pull a little tighter in exactly the wrong place. He grins at Steve’s pretty, mean lips and back up to those eyes, and shrugs innocently.“Something wrong, Stevie?” he asks.“What the hell did you do that for, you fucking dickhead?” Steve asks sourly. He is still looking after Nancy, maybe hoping that she’ll change her mind and come back. Fat chance.“Just following your advice, pretty boy,” Billy shrugs, and feels a little thrill when that gets him at least a glance. “We respect our women in Hawkins, right? Well, Miss Wheeler oughtta know what she’s in for, then, right?” he grins and shifts his hips a bit, half to mock Steve, half to give his own hardening dick a little relief, trapped behind denim.Steve glares at him and pushes him away. “You think you can make a move on Nancy with a stunt like that? You really don’t know shit about girls,” he snorts, and turns away. “Just back the hell off, man.”Billy drives home alone 10 minutes later, grateful as fuck when Max tells him she’s skating home with some kids she met at school, because the minute he gets home he locks himself in his room and has his hand down the front of his jeans. It’s shameful, it’s stupid, but Steve Harrington is a pretty idiot and he’ll never be anything else so Billy might as well use whatever material he can get.He comes before he’s even managed to get himself out of his pants. Thick come oozing through the cotton of his underwear. Fucking filthy. Billy would love it if it didn’t mean he had to do a load of laundry right fucking now.That night, after Max comes home, and dad comes home, and everything goes fucking peachy, Billy remembers Harrington’s pick-up line and decides to go for a drive to the quarry. Just to see. He’s honestly a bit shocked when he finds a real party of sorts there, but he grins when he sees Steve, and turns off the engine, checking himself in the rearview mirror.And Steve sees him. Actually sees him. Billy knows he does, because Steve’s mouth goes tight and small, and he shoots Billy a dark look.Almost as good as the fire from before, but not quite. Billy winks at him and starts to walk over, but before he can get to him Steve’s moved off with that idiot Tommy H. Trying to avoid him. Billy scowls and steals the beer Harrington seems to have forgotten in his haste to move away. Downs it before he realizes what he’s doing and tosses it away like he’s been burned.
This crush is getting out of fucking hand.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There’s a little voice in Steve’s head that tells him he’s getting paranoid. The new guy is settling in. He’s gonna go and make some friends, at some point. Not Steve’s friends, thank god. Tommy has been firmly supportive of Steve’s general tendency to try and be where Billy Hargrove is not. That might have to do with the way Carol sometimes looks at the new guy, especially when he’s walking to that piece of shit car after school, and she gets that weird, hungry look on her face, but still. Tommy and Rick and the rest of the basketball team are pretty firmly on Steve’s side.Are there fucking sides now?Yes, Steve decides, standing in line for lunch one day when a ripple of laughter makes him look up and see Billy Hargrove sitting with the football team. And then Billy looks up at him like it’s a fucking challenge. It’s not just in his head. Paranoid has nothing to do with it. Steve knows this, so he stares off into the space above Billy’s head as if he wasn’t even looking at him in the first place. It is on. Because Billy Hargrove is a jerk, and for whatever reason, his biggest amusement seems to be trying to get a rise out of Steve.Like that thing with Nancy? At first, Steve had thought Billy was seriously making a pass at her, but then after that thing after school the other week, Billy never even looked at her again. (Not that Steve thinks she’d even consider someone like that. Nancy Wheeler’s got more class than that.) Now though, and with the way Hargrove has been smarmy and playing ball like a bulldozer, trying to fuck him over at every turn on the court, Steve thinks it’s him. Hargrove has it in for him.Brooding over his meatloaf, Steve asks Tommy about it. “D’you think the new guy’s up to something?”Tommy snorts. “Hargrove? He’s all talk.”But Steve can’t quite agree. Especially when he glances over and catches Billy Hargrove looking at him again. Can’t be a coincidence.He forgets all about it when he manages to talk Nancy into coming to Josie Plummer’s party that weekend though, bats down all her reasoning with finesse mostly boiling down to, “you should come give me somebody to talk to besides Tommy.” He walks down to his own locker with a victorious bounce in his step, then. Until he overhears a scrap of conversation.“... Plummer’s party, in Loch Nora? Yeah, I guess, if there’s nothing better going on…”And knowing that Hargrove’s gonna be there, smirking at him from across the room, is almost enough to change his mind. Even after all the work he just put into getting Nancy to come.
Fucking Billy Hargrove.
He seems to feel Steve’s eyes on him, because before Steve can look away those bright blue eyes are focused on him with a look he doesn’t quite understand.“So, this like a bring your own flask sort of situation, or…?” Hargrove asks the football jocks he’s hanging around with, turning his grin back on them. Steve can’t be just imagining that his grin changes when he turns it back on the Zimmerman brothers, can he? When Billy smiles at them, it looks normal. When he does it while looking at Steve, it seems… different.Forget that loser, he tells himself stubbornly, and turns on his heel.By the time he gets to the party on Saturday night, Nancy is there. She’s looking uncomfortable and out of place, but she’s there. And she smiles at him when she sees him, and her hair smells sweet later, when they make out on the dark staircase to the basement. She has to leave way too early because the friend she came with wants to go home (and his offer to give her a ride later in his Beemer doesn’t really fly), but still. He promises to call her the next day, and the paper with her number on it burns a hole in his pocket when he heads towards the kitchen for another beer.“Better luck next time, man,” Tommy sighs loud enough to be heard over the party music, catching up with him, but before Steve can answer someone else is for him.“Oh no, didn’t you see, Hayward? King Steve here got the princess’s number and everything!”Billy steps out into their path with a cigarette hanging from his teeth, unlit and staying there despite his threateningly wide smile.“He knows exactly what he’s doing,” Hargrove purrs, but now he’s not looking at Tommy at all. Jesus, what the fuck is up with this guy? Steve feels a shiver down his spine at the intensity of the stare and looks away.“Oh, were you watching, Hargrove? That how you get your kicks?” Tommy laughs, but it’s an unpleasant laugh, the kind Steve knows will be followed by a fight. And he has no wish to turn this into something ugly. So he nudges Tommy and murmurs, “Forget it, man. He’s just talking shit like he always does. Let’s go and find something to drink.”It’s not running away, he tells himself. He is just sick and tired of Billy Hargrove’s stupid games. And he doesn’t see him again for the rest of the evening. Probably left when he thought of somewhere better to be, Steve thinks with a snort. To someone from California, anywhere probably seems better than here.This isn’t so bad though, Steve muses, later, when the party winds down and he's smoking one last joint out on the back porch on his own. The moon is out, and a fuck-ton of stars. California surely doesn’t have as many stars as this.The sliding door opens behind him and Steve thinks it’s Tommy at first, come back from wherever it was he left to, but when he glances over his shoulder it’s to see Billy standing there with a beer in hand looking shocked to not be alone. He must’ve been drinking about as much as Steve has been tonight, cause his expressions actually move slow enough for Steve to track them, for once. From shock to annoyance and then straight into… something. Whatever that thing is that he’s always looking at Steve with. That thing that makes Steve fidget as Billy steps closer.“You look real pretty out here in the moonlight, Harrington,” he smirks as he makes it down to the grass where Steve is. “Too bad Wheeler’s not around to see it, you’d have her on you in a second.”For a brief moment, Steve considers just getting up and going inside. Billy Hargrove is like a tick, impossible to shake. Maybe it’s just time to leave and go home. But the night is so nice, still really warm for the middle of October, and Steve thinks, fuck it. He isn’t going to let Billy Hargrove of all people drive him away. I was here first. “What the fuck is your problem, man?” he asks, but there’s no fire to his words. He sounds just as mellow as he feels. “I mean, I’m just sitting here, not doing anything, just enjoying shit. Why you gotta be…” He thinks for a second, but still can’t put into words what Billy actually does. “…like all that?” Steve finishes, a little lamely.For a second Billy looks like he’s gonna quip again or something, but then he laughs and it doesn’t look at all like his usual predatory one. He sounds honestly amused. Steve feels a kind of rush at making Billy Hargrove finally crack that stupid act of his.“What’d you rather I be like, pretty boy?” Billy asks him then, and it’s still got a bit of that tone from before but less heavy. Less completely repulsive. Steve doesn’t even really mind when Hargrove sits down next to him on the little wood bench.Maybe just stop fucking around and stop talking to me like an idiot. Steve doesn’t say it out loud, just shrugs and takes another drag. “What does it matter what I want?” he mumbles, then looks at Billy and smiles. “You just gonna do what I tell you? Stop bugging me, just because I ask nicely? Yeah, right.”Billy makes a sound like he’s kind of holding back a laugh, and swipes the joint from his fingers.“Yeah, probably not,” he admits, taking a long drag. And it really sounds like admitting. Like he thinks he honestly can’t help but be a dick. “I might try it sometime, though. I can be kinky,” he winks and hands Steve back the joint.Steve snorts, then coughs a little, blowing out little puffs of smoke. “Yeah, no doubt,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Thanks, but you’re not exactly my type.”Billy barks a short laugh, and it’s back to that showy one he always does. He half turns away and for a second Steve thinks he recognizes something like disappointment in his face.“What, blue eyes, perky tits, and a jaw that could cut glass not enough for you?” Billy teases, posing a little for Steve and making him laugh.“Perky tits, huh? Can I quote you on that?” He takes another deep drag, holds it in, and watches Billy as he slowly lets the smoke spill from his lips. Looks him over, up and down.“Your tits aren’t the problem,” he says lightly, and laughs again when Billy sits up a little as if preening.“No, you’re just a little too…”He hesitates, and settles on “mouthy,” but in the same breath, Billy tries to finish the sentence for him.“Male,” he says. And Steve blinks and stares, at a loss for words. But that’s probably what Billy intended by saying something like that, anyway. The fucking dickhead.“Why would that be a problem?” he asks. As if he’s gonna let Billy Hargrove think he scandalized him or something.Now it’s Billy’s turn to be stunned silent. Steve thinks for a moment he sees a flash of emotion in his eyes, but then it’s gone and he’s turning away and laughing.“So, you tellin’ me all I gotta do is shut up, and you’ll call me pretty, King Steve?” he says, and it sounds like a taunt. It looks like a taunt. But his hand has just landed on Steve’s left knee, and when Steve glances up at Billy’s face, his eyes actually look nervous for half a second, Steve is sure of it this time.“Too bad we’ll never know, huh?” Steve gives back, far more self-assured than he feels. Billy’s hand is warm, almost hot, he can feel it through his pants as if they aren’t even there. “Or are you gonna shut up just to impress me?”He feels a little giddy, like they are talking code, and he can never be sure Billy actually understands what he means. Any moment now, Billy could just laugh at Steve’s clumsy attempts to one-up him. Or he could just get up and leave. But Billy’s hand is still there. Hot and heavy, like a promise.Billy licks his lips, working his jaw for a moment like he’s physically fighting back words, and Steve can’t quite tell what Billy’s staring at but it’s not his eyes.“There’s other things I could do with my mouth, you know,” he says real low, almost confessional but not quite, and Steve feels a shiver that might be the cold or might be the fact that Billy’s voice like this, quiet and close against his ear in the dark, is actually kind of fucking sexy.Billy must figure it’s the second one, cause he gets his grin back and meets Steve’s eyes for a second before he continues, his hand inching up just a little farther from Steve’s knee, “I’m sure I could impress you just fine, pretty boy.”Yeah, right. As if Billy Hargrove would actually do that. Steve knows they’re still just talking shit, but he’s enjoying it. Because there’s the barest hint of possibility that what Billy is saying might actually be on the table. And it’s just a matter of who flinches first, to make it go away. Steve doesn’t want to be the one who does.“Oh yeah?” he asks back, like Billy could be talking about anything, basketball, the weather, their last Spanish test. Makes it easier to not focus on Billy’s mouth and imagine what he can do with it. When he takes another hit off the quickly dying joint, it feels like it’s going straight to his head. In that kind of haze, is it a surprise if he asks Billy, “Well then what’re you waiting for?”Because he knows if either of them is going to flinch, it won’t be him.Billy’s hand moves up closer to where his pants are getting noticeably uncomfortable, and Steve notices the movement is a little jerky, Billy’s breath where it hits his neck a bit shallow, but his heart is kind of hammering right now so who is he to judge. When he glances up again, Billy’s eyes are clearly fixed on the bulge of Steve’s cock in his jeans and his tongue is working over his teeth thoughtfully. Steve can feel the pulse of what that does to him, and he knows Billy can see it too.“Yeah, why not,” he smirks then, dragging his hand just around the outline of Steve’s cock and over his upper thigh teasingly. “I’m always up for a challenge,” he says appreciatively and takes the roach from Steve, sucking a way-too suggestive drag off it.Even now, with Billy Hargrove’s hand practically on his dick, Steve doesn’t quite believe where this seems to be going, though. It’s too wild, believing that Hargrove of all people… shit, he’s so muscly and mean and hard as nails at school. If he is gonna put his mouth on Steve’s dick, it might just be a ploy to bite it off or something.What a way to go, though, Steve thinks, looking at Billy’s mouth, watching the tip of his tongue slip out and moisten his lips. It’s pretty gorgeous for a guy’s mouth, he thinks.But the way Billy is touching him, still hesitant and light, like a girl, it seems to Steve like he can’t really mean it, after all. If Billy Hargrove actually meant to grab your dick, he’d just go for it, Steve is pretty sure. Billy is still just playing, then. Only pretending. He’s gonna find an excuse why he has to back out of this any second now.But still, there’s the tiny sliver of hope that he won’t just chicken out. Maybe he just needs a nudge or something? It’s harder than Steve would have thought, he’d never come on this strong with a girl— but this isn’t a girl, Steve reminds himself, and feels a little better.So he takes Billy’s hand and grinds it into his dick, even pushes his hips against him a little and mutters, “D’you need me to give you some pointers?” But then Billy’s standing in front of him. Kicking his feet open to spread his legs a bit.He pulls his jacket off, staring down at Steve like he’s trying to pin him there with intimidation, and for once it’s fucking working. That and the fact that Steve is fully hard in his jeans.When Billy tosses his jacket to the ground between Steve’s feet and kneels in front of him, Steve can feel himself buzzing with anticipation. He watches as Billy runs his hands back up and in and palms over the shape of him in his pants, and lets out a shocked breath when he flicks the top button of them open with his thumb.“You tell anyone this happened and I’ll kill you in your sleep, Harrington,” he says, and then he’s leaning in to pull the zipper down with his teeth, like something out of a dirty movie.“You haven’t even done anything yet, man,” Steve points out, a little pettily, but his whole body feels on edge, wound up tight. Before he can say anything else, he suddenly feels Billy’s warm breath on his dick through the thin cotton of his underpants, and, shit. He almost fucking loses it just from that.“Fuck.” His hands move to Billy’s hair by instinct, but Billy must hate having his hair messed up even more than the girls Steve has done this with, because he pulls back, swatting Steve’s hands away, and glares.“Alright, sorry, jesus,” Steve mutters, “I get it, no touching.” He feels exposed now, the cool air unpleasant on the bit where Billy’s breath dampened the fabric, and Steve can’t stand it, the cold, the fear of Billy leaving him like this. “You change your mind already?”Billy rolls his eyes and spreads Steve’s legs further a little roughly, not helping at all with that exposed feeling.“Shut the fuck up, pretty boy,” he growls, but then he dives back in and actually puts his mouth on the thin cotton, teasing up the length of Steve’s cock, so Steve isn’t really in a position to protest the nickname.And it’s almost hotter than having Billy’s mouth on his skin, just separated by that flimsy bit of fabric. Since he can’t touch Billy’s hair, Steve grips the hard edge of the wooden bench, really digs his fingers in. He doesn’t want to come, not yet, Billy would never let him hear the end of it if he did, but, fuck. Just the thought of what they’re doing out here is so hot — out in the open, where anyone might see them, and Billy Hargrove of all people actually on his knees, about to suck his dick.“Shit, kinda wishing I’d gone commando today,” Steve tries to joke, but the huff of breath that may or may not be a laugh makes him flinch and grind his teeth.“Remember that next time you—” Billy starts, and Steve can feel his lips moving, smirking, against his cock, but just then the sliding door opens behind him and suddenly the danger that made this whole thing so hot a second ago is ice fucking cold in Steve’s veins.Billy’s eyes fly up to meet Steve’s in a look of fucking terror as he crouches out of sight, jaw set all threateningly, like he’s trying to remind Steve of his earlier threat. Like Steve isn’t just as afraid when he hears footsteps on the back porch.“Steve? That you?”And just from those words, Steve breathes a little easier. It’s just Tommy. And he can tell by now when Tommy is completely shit-faced. He isn’t going to remember any of this the next morning.“Yeah,” Steve calls back to him, cool as a cucumber, while his hands are quickly doing up his fly, wincing just a bit when he has to work the zipper over his hard dick. “What is it?”“Carol wants to go home and I can’t find my fucking keys,” Tommy grumbles from the porch. He must have completely forgotten Steve picked them both up earlier because Tommy’s mom wouldn’t loan him the family car.“‘kay, I’ll be in in a second,” Steve promises. He looks down at where Billy is still crouching, unseen. He’s unsure what to do about that. The only thing he can think of is just to leave. Is that rude? If there’s an unspoken etiquette about how to help up the guy who almost gave you a blowjob, nobody has ever bothered to fill Steve in. And then he realizes that his body is probably blocking the view from the porch. If he gets up, Tommy might just see Billy after all. Shit.Steve turns around in his seat a little to look at Tommy. He is leaning against the porch railing, swaying a bit. Truly plastered then. Good.“Go in and find Carol,” he tells him. “I’m right behind you.”And Tommy, bless his heart, does as Steve says. Thank god.Steve turns to offer Billy a hand the minute the door closes behind Tommy, but he’s already scrambling to his feet, scowling. Before Steve can think of something to say, some way to ask if they can finish this sometime, Billy’s flung his jacket over one shoulder and is heading for the side gate without a glance in his direction.“Okay,” Steve says to himself, staring at the spot where Billy just vanished. “Now that’s definitely fucking rude.”And as he gets up from the bench and stretches, trying to find a somewhat comfortable position for his still half-hard dick, he wonders if maybe Billy feels glad now he didn’t have to go through with the whole thing. The thought of that is more than a bit disappointing.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Billy’s distracted enough over the weekend that he doesn’t think too much about the smell of Harrington after getting home and coming onto his own stomach with his bottom lip between his teeth. Doesn’t think too much about how he looked, tenting his underwear for Billy, or how he felt under his lips. But the weekend ends, and at school on Monday Harrington looks as fuckable as ever. The fact that he keeps glancing over at Billy like he’s thinking about him and his mouth throughout the day only serves to make Billy’s self-control feel like it’s slipping more and more. But he’ll be damned if he’s gonna be the one to beg for the honor of finishing what they started, and Billy can’t get the sound of Tommy H’s stupid drunken interruption out of his head. He’s extra brutal on Harrington at practice the next day, and takes a cold shower after, faced away from King Steve and his perky fucking ass and thick thighs. It’s hard, but he feels like he’s doing a good job of it at least. He’s cautiously proud of himself. That is, until Wednesday, when he hears Nancy Wheeler in the hallway, giggling with her butch librarian-looking friend that yeah, she’d like to see Steve again. When his ears perk up a bit more he catches her shy yes to the question of whether he’s a good kisser. Billy’s skin itches at the thought that that bitch could be upstaging him in any way, and in a second he’s spun on a dime and wondering where he can corner Steve to insist on some payback. He gets his chance by the end of day, before their last period. Steve is dawdling on his way to class, late as usual. After making sure no one is around and looking their way, Billy takes Steve by the arm and all but pushes him into a nearby closet. Steve’s squawk of protest dies when he sees who brought him there, Billy notices with some satisfaction. Still, he is frowning, grumbles, “what the hell, man?” Not exactly in the mood for an afternoon snack, apparently. Yet. “Be quiet or we’ll get caught out again, idiot,” Billy growls right back, pinning Steve up against the closet door and slotting a thigh between Harrington’s. “You wanna finish what we started, don’t you?” he breathes against Steve’s ear, and he can feel that massive cock jump in his khakis so he already knows the answer when he rolls his hips just a little. Steve doesn’t even try to move out of the way. Instead, he parts his legs a little, letting Billy closer in, and it’s the best yes Billy has never heard. “Thought you changed your mind,” Steve says, eyebrows raised, barely visible in the dim light. “D’you worry I forgot about you, pretty boy?” Billy taunts, which is a fucking laugh. He wishes he could forget about Steve Harrington and his cock. Steve shrugs. “Maybe just remembered you can’t stand me, or something.” He doesn’t look like that thought gave him any sleepless nights, though. Dick. Billy hums, and slips a hand down between them to palm Steve’s hardening cock through his pants. “Oh sweetheart, I like you plenty for this,” he purrs as Steve’s breathing hitches against his ear. “We don’t gotta be friends to fuck a little, do we?” he asks rhetorically as he opens the front of Steve’s pants and tugs them down. And Steve’s going commando this time, good as his word. Billy freezes for half a second, just looking at what’s in front of him in the dim light from the cracks around the door. He can’t tell how pretty it is like this, but what he can see of it is fucking impressive.“Damn,” he breathes without thinking, and draws his thumb up the underside of Steve’s cock with probably too much reverence. Steve mutters a curse at the touch. His cock jumps a little and Billy reaches down to hold it steady, feels the fucking girth of it. “Does it meet your goddamn standards?” he can hear Steve’s wry voice, and besides sounding a tad irritated, it’s just a little breathless. Perfect. Billy makes an affirmative noise at the back of his throat and gives Steve’s pants one more downward tug before he’s on his knees in front of him in the cramped space of the closet, breathing in the scent of dust and cleaning supplies and Steve Harrington’s hardening cock. He sighs and licks quickly up from base to head before taking the first three inches or so into his mouth. “Fuck,” Steve mutters, and he sounds impressed. “Didn’t think you were actually… pretty sure you were gonna chicken out…”Billy resents the implication even though it’s probably a compliment that Harrington hadn’t pegged him for a fag even after his behavior on Friday night. He growls an indication of this around the cock in his mouth and stubbornly pulls more of Steve into his mouth then, breathing through his nose, like whether he can fit all of him is suddenly some kind of competition. His own cock jumps when three more inches find their way inside, pressing into his throat, and there’s still dick left to spare. Fuck. Billy breathes hard and fights to keep his throat open and working with him as saliva starts to sneak down onto his chin. “Fuck,” Steve mutters above him again. “Fucking hell, you’ve actually done this before, and here I thought you were full of shit…” He hisses when Billy pulls back and gives him a bit of teeth along the way. “Alright, fucking hell! Far be it from me to doubt your experience in sucking dick…”His hand moves beside Billy’s head, maybe to reach for his hair again, but he catches himself still in time. His fingers trail over the side of Billy’s face, rub against the trail of spit that’s escaped. Rub it into his cheek. Billy lets Steve do it, staring up at him while he catches his breath, but when Steve’s thumb brushes over his thick bottom lip Billy sucks it in a little and bites at it. He grins when Steve hisses and pulls his hand away again. “Warning from before still stands. You got that?” he reminds Steve softly, and his voice is already as fucked out as it’s been by the end with smaller cocks. He tries not to show how much that does to him, which isn’t hard given their lighting situation. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ll come over to my house and murder me in my sleep and wear my guts for garters…” He sounds less intimidated than Billy would like. His cock, still slick with spit, bumps into Billy’s chin suggestively. “You were in the middle of something when I interrupted you, I think…”And that fucking impertinence makes Billy want to stand back up and teach Harrington a lesson or two so bad, but the feeling of his warm, wet cock against Billy’s lips keeps him on his knees. When Billy reaches a hand up behind and gives Steve’s balls a bit of a squeeze, the resulting sigh and the sound of Harrington’s head hitting the door makes it worth it. “Keep quiet unless you want to get caught like this,” he taunts one last time, and ducks in once again. This time his throat is readier for it and he takes a bit more time, bobbing slowly closer and closer to the dark thatch of curls at his base as he opens up for it and breathes steadily through his nose. Fucking pro. By the time he’s pressing his nose into Steve’s lower belly he can hear him letting out little unintentional moans every couple seconds when he moves, and his own cock is making Billy’s choice of jeans today feel like a stupid fucking decision. And then Steve is pushing at his shoulder, like he’s trying to push him off. It makes Billy want to hold on more savagely, let go when he’s damned ready to, until he realises Steve is talking to him. It takes him a moment to process the words. “… not gonna last much longer, watch it—”That Steve thinks he has to warn him, like he’s some girl, surprised when a blowjob ends with a mouthful of spunk, that’s actually kind of endearing. Billy completely ignores his warning, goes at it a little harder. He looks up at Steve’s face even though he sure as hell can’t see his eyes from here in the dark, just on the off chance that his lighter ones are visible to Harrington, and gives his balls some more attention, almost grinning when he feels them tighten in his hand. Billy hums just a little then. Just enough that Harrington can feel the vibration of it, and then he’s coming hard down Billy’s throat with a soft cry and Billy’s squirming like a girl as he sucks Harrington’s cock dry. His come is definitely not the nicest Billy’s tasted, and Harrington’s hand winds up in Billy’s hair despite the fact that he knows better, but Billy’s never been so hard in his life as he shakily stands back up. He wants to tell Steve off for touching his hair. But knowing how little weight that would carry right now, he settles instead for pulling the hand from his hair and using the back of it to wipe his mouth and chin clean. Steve, the bastard, doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s leaning against the door, breathing hard, and now that he’s standing closer, Billy can see a little more of his eyes, huge and dark. Staring at him like he can’t quite believe this just happened. You better believe it, dickhead, Billy thinks smugly. Let’s see your princess compete with that. After a moment of hesitation, he can feel Steve smile in the darkness. “Damn.”Billy snorts a laugh, which hurts a bit but doesn’t deter him from trying to talk anyway. “Don’t go getting all mushy on me now, Harrington,” he teases, and god his voice is wrecked enough that he’s definitely going to have to fake a cold when he goes home. It’s fucking hot.“Am not,” Steve replies, and his voice sounds good, too. Relaxed. Low and inviting. Now if only he was up to wrecking it for Billy’s sake… But he seems to be thinking along the same lines, at least. Cupping Billy’s bulge with his other hand. Maybe he’ll say something cheesy, ask if Billy needs a hand or something. At this point, Billy wouldn’t even judge him for it. Much. “Looks like you weren’t just doing me a favor… you really enjoyed this, didn’t you,” Steve’s voice teases close to his ear. And it makes Billy want to shake him off and kick him where it fucking hurts. But Steve is already popping open the buttons on his jeans, one by one, and as the pressure on his cock eases and Steve reaches into his underpants and wraps long fingers around him, Billy starts feeling slightly more forgiving. He is embarrassingly close though. Because Steve is absolutely right that Billy enjoyed every second of having Harrington’s monster cock choking him. And now that he’s got some friction, got Steve’s long, soft fingers tight around him, Billy’s just clinging onto the hope that he won’t blow his load before Steve has even built up a comfortable rhythm. He couldn’t live it down if he did. Couldn’t forgive himself if he showed his hand like that. So while helpful King Steve’s hand is gliding easy up and down on his pre-come slick cock, Billy braces himself hard against the door and buries his face in Harrington’s shoulder to keep from moaning like a bitch. Just when he’s about to congratulate himself for lasting 30 seconds, though, Steve gives Billy’s ass a cautious grab and breathes like he’s surprised at how good it feels, right against his ear. And that’s all it takes to fuck up the stranglehold he has on himself. Before he even registers it Billy is coming hard and fast, nearly biting down on Steve’s shoulder as he feels warm wet spread up both their fronts and dribble down over Steve’s fingers, which are still slowly stroking him like he hasn’t even noticed yet what just happened. Billy keeps his face right where it is for a long beat, catching his breath and trying to tame the hot flush he can feel from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He can feel Steve chuckle faintly. “That was fucking impressive, man. I mean, I know I’m hot shit, but still…” Steve’s hand is still on his ass, gives it a little squeeze, like he can’t tell that Billy is starting to feel murderous towards him, or worst of all, he doesn’t care. “Yeah, don’t get too cocky, Harrington, it’s not your stunning personality,” Billy growls back, distancing himself from Steve as much as he can in the tight space. Steve is still chuckling a little though, the idiot, as he hands Billy a roll of toilet paper from the stash above his head.“Alright then, my stellar body just drives you wild with lust,” Steve gives back with enough smugness to make Billy want to hit him, for real, once they get out of this narrow space and he can get a nice swing going. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart.” “If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m gonna feed you this whole roll of toilet paper right here,” Billy says viciously. “Don’t fool yourself, Harrington. You’re a nice enough cock, unfortunately attached to a giant asshole. That’s all.” And that silences Steve, at least for a bit, while they both swipe at the come-stains on their clothes with more or less success. When there’s no more cleaning-up to be done, a thick silence stews between them, broken by Steve ostentatiously looking at his watch. The hands glow faintly in the dark. “Getting late. I’m gonna split. No use going in anymore,” Steve says, and he doesn’t sound low and relaxed anymore now, but at least he isn’t gleeful, either. “Do I look like I give a shit where you go?” Billy bites out, still burning with fucking shame as he does his best to fix his hair where Harrington messed with it. “How would I know what you look like? It’s dark as fuck,” Steve points out uselessly. Before Billy can think of a fitting response to such a moronic statement, Steve has turned around and opened the door a crack. The light hurts Billy’s eyes, blinds him. Then it’s suddenly dark again, and Steve is gone. “Fucking idiot,” Billy mutters under his breath, jerking his jacket closed over his determinedly spunky shirt and leaning against the door to wait a bit before following Steve out the door. He could be talking about either of them, and as he lights a cigarette a minute later while he waits for Maxine to show up, he honestly isn’t sure who he’s more annoyed with. What he is sure of, though, is that that won’t be the only time he gets his hands on Harrington’s dick. He’s gonna have dreams about that dick, and the soft, breathy noises Steve made when Billy sucked it all down. Just thinking about it again has his lips twitching upward a little before he can catch himself.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It’s good to have that blowjob out of the way and done with, Steve decides the next day. Now he doesn’t have to look at Billy Hargrove anymore and wonder, what if. And it’s also good that Billy Hargrove is a fucking asshole who hates his guts. That way he can forget all about Billy and concentrate on Nancy. Nancy who is sweet and beautiful and who thinks he’s just great. Not just a nice dick. Nancy hasn’t even seen his dick yet. It’s a bit harder to focus on Nancy though. For whatever dumb reason, sometimes Steve still thinks of Billy. Like when he and Nancy make out and she accidentally bumps his groin and apologizes. Trying his damndest to only think of Nancy, nobody else, makes Steve feel distracted. Off his game. He climbs into Nancy’s room like something out of an action movie and they end up just studying, for fuck’s sake. A party, though. Not a party where anyone’s invited, just a little get-together among friends. Maybe a couple of beers. That’s the kind of shit he needs to properly score with Nancy. So when his parents remind him of that conference his dad has to go to, Steve perks up his ears and says yes to “pizza money.” Perfect.---|-|-|---“It’s pathetic. It’s like he’s gone all soft.”“Psh yeah, like he’s gonna quit the team and go join band with his stupid girlfriend.”“Nancy’s not in band—”“I dunno, I think it’s sweet. Steve always seemed like he wasn’t made for the whole one-time-thing scene…”Billy’s ears perk up as his shoulders stay hunched over today’s measly lunch and his eyes stay focused on the topic of his companions’ conversation, flirting with Princess Wheeler across the dining hall in the lunch line and looking infuriatingly pretty as always. “... because he isn’t a good enough fuck,” one of the guys laughs, getting snickers from his buddies. Veronica isn’t as amused. “No, because he’s like… he’s nice. He cares too much for it, you know? Like he’ll try to go with the one-time thing, but then he’ll call you a week later just to say hi. He’s sweet. I mean, that’s what Laurie says,” she flushes prettily as her friends laugh about what a lying slut she is.But Billy is focused on her theory. That King Steve is incapable of loving ‘em and leaving ‘em. Somehow he very much doubts that will be the case in his situation, not the least because as far as he knows the Hargroves still aren’t in the phonebook, and Harrington has no way to get his phone number. Still, though, the idea of it is a little intoxicating. Steve Harrington hung up on him for once, even if it is only because he’s too nice not to be. Steve and his friends end up eating not very far from Billy’s table. If he concentrates on blending out the gossips around him, he can even hear most of what’s being said there. Steve is sitting with his back to Billy, but Billy can still make out his voice well enough. “Yeah, they’re gone until the weekend. I was thinking, just a couple of us? Not a big thing, I can’t have the place trashed again, like last time…”“I hear ya, buddy,” Tommy answers, and Billy can’t see his face but he can hear the stupid grin on his freckled face. “Just enough to get you laid, huh?”Steve gives Tommy a shove that sends a little rush of satisfaction down Billy’s spine and makes him smirk.“So, only couples then,” Carol strategizes. “Me and Tommy and…”“Well, Nancy,” Steve says, keeping a stern eye on Tommy H. like he’s daring him to make another joke at the expense of Wheeler’s honor. “What do you think? That’s enough for a good time, right?” “Yeah, sure,” Carol shrugs, and Tommy grins. “Dibs on the bedroom with the fireplace.” Steve groans. “You’re not gonna fuck in my mom’s bedroom. I have to live with her afterwards.”Billy notices that the people around him have gone quiet, and he forces himself to pay attention to them again. “Are you coming?” one of the girls asks him, and off his blank look, she continues: “My birthday thing. Tomorrow night. No parents.”Where are all the fucking parents in this town? Billy wonders absently as he finishes the last of his lunch and shrugs. “Sorry guys, not this time. Got other plans,” he says, getting up from the table. As he walks away he thinks he can hear somebody doubting the likelihood of that on a Tuesday, but he doesn’t give a shit. He’s got a party to crash if he wants even a chance of not losing the hottest piece of ass in Hawkins to Nancy fucking Wheeler. ---|-|-|---“So, are you in?” And Nancy doesn’t actually say yes, but Steve is pretty sure she’s coming. Like, almost 80% sure. Even if it is a fucking Tuesday. Still, he breathes a sigh of relief, feels positively giddy when he opens the door later that night and Nancy is actually there, in his house. He doesn’t even mind that she brought her friend, it’s a fucking rush just to see her in his own house, finally. So he lets them both in, gives them a grand tour of the place and everything. “Hey, what’s the third wheel doing here?” is the first thing Tommy asks, though, and Steve would gladly kick him in the nuts for it. “Is there any more beer, Steve?” Carol calls from outside, and Steve is forced to delay the plans to annihilate his best friend. “Check in the kitchen!” he calls back, and at just the mention of beer, the two newcomers seem to shrink a bit. Damn. He does his best to be charming and to put Nancy at ease, but the fact that Barb sits there with a face like someone stole Christmas doesn’t help matters. He is just making a little headway when the doorbell rings, again. Steve looks at Tommy questioningly. “Hey Wheeler, you invite any more of your crazy party friends?” Tommy laughs, and Steve punches him in the side before he goes to the door.When he sees Billy on the front porch, Steve honestly forgets where he is and what’s happening for a good long second. Because Billy Hargrove is standing there like he fucking thinks he was invited. Hip cocked, bottle in hand, smile slow and wide like he thinks he’s the one who’s gonna end up in Steve’s bed tonight. His hair is curlier than Steve’s ever seen it and he smells like fucking Aramis, and his shirt is barely covering half his chest in a way that is probably outlawed in some states. “Hey there, pretty boy,” he purrs, stepping into his personal space like he owns it, and Steve has to fucking shake himself when Carol complains from the living room:“Who is it, Steve?” And as she comes closer she jokes in a stage whisper Steve really hopes Nancy can’t hear from the backyard: “Is it Barbara Holland’s beau?”It jerks Steve back to reality then, where he is, what this evening is all about. He can’t fucking have Billy Hargrove in the house while he’s trying to make progress with Nancy, that’s for goddamn sure. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hisses at Billy in a low voice, on the off-chance that he can get Billy to leave again before anyone even notices he was there.“Same thing as you are, amigo,” Billy hisses back, mocking, and then grins over his shoulder through the little bit of door he’s left open. “Oh hey, Carol,” he says, all smooth and sultry like he’s actually glad to see her. “What is that supposed to mean? I live here,” Steve mutters as Billy shoulders past him, closing the door behind him. “Oh, it’s perfect, Steve! He’s gonna round out the numbers and we won’t have to watch that grumpy bitch ruin it for the rest of us anymore! C’mon in, Billy. You want a beer?”And Steve knows Carol doesn’t give a shit about Barb Holland sitting alone while the rest of them go upstairs. She just wants Billy in because she has eyes, and damn. She doesn’t even pretend not to ogle his chest as she drags him in and towards the pool. Fuck. “Yeah, sure. Don’t ask me, it’s just my party,” he grumbles to himself and follows them. Back at the pool, he makes a point of ignoring Billy and his smirk and the way his abs move when he laughs because apparently, he’s in a fucking great mood. It’s Nancy he needs to concentrate on. So very casually, he takes a beer can and shotguns it, then lets himself fall back into the deck chair next to her. But she doesn’t even look a little impressed. Was she even watching? Her eyes are on Billy, who is on one knee by the pool, testing the water. For fuck’s sake.“What d’you think, Barbara,” he drawls, dragging his fingers through the water. “Wanna go for a dip?”To her credit, Barb’s scowl stays firmly in place as she tells him, no, and to Carol’s (even though she’s definitely not doing it on purpose), she pulls Billy’s attention to her next. “I will,” she grins, “but only if it’s skinny dipping!”Stop trying to get into his pants, Carol! Steve wants to yell at her. Apparently, Tommy feels the same, at least. “I’ll dip you all you like,” he says with a grin that’s really not one of his best, and grabs her, threatens to throw her in, clothes and all. She dissolves into a fit of giggles. Steve turns back to Nancy. “We could have a go,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Wanna take a dip, party girl?” She rolls her eyes, but at least she’s smiling. And not looking at Billy for once. “You’re such a cliché, Steve.”“Me?” He asks innocently. “And you’re not? With your grades, and your penny loafers, and your totally bummer vibes…” he teases, intentionally ridiculous.Nancy snorts and it’s pretty much the cutest thing ever, next to her slightly flushed cheeks as she protests, “Fine, I’ll bite,” she says, and gets up from the lounge chair she’s been sitting on. She sets her jaw, lips quirked just enough to make it clear she’s kind of loving this no matter what she says, and toes off her shoes. “Well?” she challenges Steve, pulling off her watch next and tossing it into one of her shoes. “I guess the skinny part is off the table?” Steve teases, and gets up to hug her when she scowls at him, hugs her middle and tips them both sideways, crashing them into the water. Nancy yelps and laughs and tries to dunk him, beautifully ineffectively. Next thing Steve knows, Carol and Tommy are in, too, and he almost forgets there’s anyone else in the world. Almost. Once he looks up from chasing Nancy through the water, and there’s Billy, lying in a deck chair, calmly smoking a cigarette, just watching him with a look that Steve can’t quite read. He pulls himself up on the side of the pool, water cascading off him. “Come on, what’s the matter?” he taunts, against his better instincts. “Afraid of ruining your hair?”“Barb, come join us! It’s actually really nice!” he can hear Nancy behind him, and Billy smirks blithely over his shoulder and back. “Miss me, Harrington?” he teases. “Somebody else not satisfying?” He licks his lips and glances back at Nancy in a way that makes Steve’s skin itch. (“No, Nance, I don’t wanna swim, it’s like 30 degrees out here,” Barb is answering Nancy.)“Eh, whatever. Just stay outside then, losers,” he gives back with a shrug and goes back to the more important task of paying attention to Nancy. The steam rising off the surface of the water gives everything a weird, mysterious air that’s only broken by Carol and Tommy’s noise and bustle. “Your friend’s a real firecracker,” he tells Nancy. “I’m glad we got boring old Hargrove over there to rein her in a bit.” That makes her laugh, at least. But soon her lips are starting to turn blue. “You’re shivering,” he points out, glad for the excuse to put his arms around her, pull her close. “Maybe we should go inside. Get you out of those wet clothes.” And, shit. That really doesn’t sound smooth at all, as Nancy’s look of caution tells him. It’s fucking Billy Hargrove, he realizes when they get out and Tommy gets them all some towels from the pool house. Fucking Billy Hargrove fucking up my game.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Billy finishes his cigarette as Steve finishes playing with his girlfriend in the water, and flicks the butt of it into the pool while Steve is glancing over just to get a reaction. His muttered, “Christ, Hargrove, really?” isn’t as satisfying as Billy’d hoped for. And then with a hollered, “Hey lovebirds, wait up!” Tommy and Carol are following Steve and Nancy into the house and all the couples have gone upstairs to fuck. Way to go, idiot, Billy chastises himself, sighing and getting up to kneel by the side of the pool and reach in for his soggy cigarette. You really nailed it this time. He’s so hard for you he’s sticking it in some primadonna mathlete bitch.Even the stupid cigarette butt is out to give him a hard time. It just keeps bobbing annoyingly out of reach, no matter how far he strains to grab it. “There’s a net. You could use that.” Damn. He’d almost forgotten about that other girl. The princess’s frumpy friend. “Thanks for the tip, sweetheart,” he says between clenched teeth, but glances up to look for the net anyway. It’s right beside the deck chairs, where she’s sitting. Feeling his look, she sighs and gets up. Just as she’s about to hand him the damn thing, though, she flinches and lets it clatter to the ground. “Smooth,” he snarks at her, bending down to reach for it, but then he notices she’s cradling her hand, blood dripping from it. “Shit,” she mutters, and Billy thinks twice about picking the damn thing up, looking it over to see where it cut her. “You’d think they could afford better pool cleaning shit,” he mutters without really noticing, and carefully uses it to get the butt out at last before tossing them both out onto the manicured lawn. When he glances back over at what’s-her-face, she’s still frowning a bit uselessly at the blood, like she’s never fucking had a cut before which, honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised at. So he rolls his eyes and comes up to take her hand in his. “Y’know you can’t just stare at it till it stops,” he says. “I’ve tried that. Didn’t work too well.”She scoffs at him, which is almost as good as a smile. “C’mon, let’s go in. See if the Harringtons at least have a bandaid that’s not actually cheap trash.”There’s a bunch of first-aid stuff in the downstairs bathroom (which is twice as big as the little shithole of a bathroom Billy has to share with Maxine, go figure). He helps her put some iodine on the ragged edges of the cut and patches her up properly while she just watches. “How’d you know how to do that?” she asks, looking down at the bandage once Billy’s finished and is packing the stuff away, and now it’s his turn to scoff.“Because I don’t live my life wrapped up in cotton, like some people,” he mutters. “Barb? What happened?”Billy glances up to see Wheeler at the other end of the short hall like she was just looking for her friend, worried and not at all like she just lost her virginity to King Steve or even like she just saw him naked. A little rumpled maybe, and wearing what must be Steve’s jeans and sweater, but that’s it. Billy feels a flush of triumph at that.“Just a scratch,” Barb is saying, like she wasn’t having a minor panic attack about it just a second ago. “Billy helped me,” she adds, and god, that sounds weird even to his ears. Nancy comes in closer and takes Barb’s hand, examines it like she doesn’t really trust Billy’s handiwork, but can’t seem to find fault with it. “You sure you’re ok?”“Yeah,” Barb says. “But I really wanna go home now.”Bless this girl. Nancy looks over to Steve, who’s leaning against the door now. “I think I’m gonna take her home,” she says to Steve, with an upside turn in her voice, like she wants to apologize to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? At school?”“Sure,” Steve says, and Billy can tell he’s doing his damndest to be cool about the whole thing. He even takes Nancy’s hand, squeezes it, maybe to put her at ease. “You two take care.”He’s nice and sweet as he shows them to the door, with Billy slowly trailing behind. Cordial. The perfect host, the perfect, non-threatening boyfriend. But Billy can tell that inside, he is fucking pissed off. He wonders absently if he can make him mad enough to hate-fuck him into a deck chair, but decides against it. Tommy and Carol still haven’t come down, he doesn’t think, and they could any time now. Instead he just turns toward the kitchen like it’s his own house, tossing a careless “got anything to eat?” over his shoulder as soon as the front door clicks shut. Steve follows him, frowning darkly. He leans against the counter, arms crossed before him, hair still damp from the pool. Billy wants to lick him, see if he tastes like chlorine. “You got some fucking nerve.”Billy leans against the fridge and grins. Raises his eyebrow and shrugs a little so? Because so far, Steve hasn’t told him anything he doesn’t already know. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, do you want me to leave?” he taunts. “Is it your bedtime, too?”Steve snorts. “Like you even care what I want.” And he walks closer to Billy. Slowly. Like he’s trying to be intimidating. “You just do the opposite anyway.”Billy feels his skin tingle with anticipation of whatever Steve’s planning to do next, and he plants his feet, staying directly in Harrington’s way. “Oh I care a lot, pretty boy,” he breathes, shifting his hips a little subconsciously. “More than Princess Wheeler does, anyway.”He realizes he has made a mistake, mentioning Nancy, when Steve’s face darkens into a scowl. “Don’t fucking talk about her,” he growls. Damn. They had almost gotten somewhere. Now Steve is turning away from him, back towards the door. “At least I wouldn’t leave you high and dry like that,” he says then, quickly, before Steve can escape. Steve has got to be gagging for it, right? This whole party was a set-up just to get laid, and now all he has left to schmooze up to are some damp towels. Steve turns, raises his eyebrows at him. “Why the fuck did you even come here?” he asks, almost warily, like Billy invited himself just to ruin Steve’s chances with the princess and then laugh at his frustration boner. Well. He’s only half-right. Billy shrugs and picks his words carefully. “I heard you talkin’ about a party to get laid. Thought you should have all your options there.” He licks his lips a little and watches Steve’s eyes drop to them with a feeling of satisfaction. Steve snorts. “Well. Looks like right now you’re the only option.” He pats his pockets, seems to realise he just changed into new pants. “You got a smoke for me?” Billy huffs an affronted laugh even though Harrington even acknowledging him as an option at all is the best thing that’s happened to him all day, and pulls the pack out of his jacket. “Yeah, think you can handle ‘em?” he asks, handing it over. At first Steve looks blank, but when their fingers brush around the pack he frowns. Billy imagines he can practically hear the cogs in Steve’s head turning. “I bet I can handle anything you can,” Steve says at length, and, damn. That’s enough to make Billy’s jeans a lot more snug than they were just a moment ago. Billy bites his bottom lip and grins, closing the distance between them smoothly and letting a hand slide down to his hip and in. “Got somewhere your friend Hayward won’t stumble in on us this time?” he says, voice low, fingers cupping the shape of Harrington’s dick in its denim confines. Steve considers, looking down at Billy’s hand. It is probably making it harder for him to concentrate on actually speaking, Billy thinks smugly. “Yeah, let’s go,” Steve says. He moves first, breaking the connection, but the quick way he leads Billy through the kitchen and outside makes it clear that he hasn’t lost interest in any way. They round the pool and come to the door where Hayward got the towels from earlier. “The pool house?” Steve’s lip curls into a smirk. “I’ll take you upstairs sometime when there’s no audience.” Billy purrs. “I like the sound of that, pretty boy.”He’s on Steve almost before he gets the door open, and then he’s pushing Steve inside and shoving the door shut behind them. It’s almost bright in here, despite the lack of fixtures, as pale blue light from the pool leaks in through sheer curtains. Billy only has a second to appreciate the space, though, before Steve is retaliating and shoving him up against the door. He lets out a groan before he can stop himself and angles his hips so their cocks brush together. “I believe you owe me, for last time,” he purrs. “Don’t you think?” He reaches up to drag a thumb over Steve’s pretty lips and grins when he feels his breath come out in a surprised huff. “Oh yeah?” Steve’s eyes are big and his expression is almost innocent. “How’d you figure that?” One of Steve’s hands rests on Billy’s ass and he has to bite his lip not to groan at the touch. Instead he moves quick and turns them so Steve’s the one catching his breath with his back to the wall. “Well, you’ve got a real monster in these pants, Harrington,” he reasons, rocking a little against it. “Takes a lot of work to get all of something like that into your mouth. I was sore for days,” he breathes, acting like it was such a trial for him when they both feel how hard he’s getting, just talking about it. “I figure if you want more like that anytime soon, there’s gotta be a little reciprocity. Hm?” “A little…?” Steve starts, frowning. Billy snorts. “Reciprocity, Harrington. Give and take. Tit for tat.” Steve breaks the eye-contact and scowls. “Yeah, I knew that.” Yeah, right. Billy smiles to himself and rubs his palm against Steve’s dick. “I know you did,” he lies, and leans in closer, touching his lips to the skin of Steve’s neck. Not kissing, just tasting the remaining hint of chlorine, playing connect-the-dots with Steve’s moles. “So how about it?”Steve sighs beneath him, angles his head a little. He seems to enjoy what Billy is doing to his neck. “I guess,” he says, like it doesn’t mean anything, like he agrees to suck other guys’ cocks every day. Meanwhile, Billy’s stomach is doing somersaults. “But you first.” Billy chuckles softly and gives Steve’s shoulder a little bite. “Thought we just established that you’re the one that owes me, pretty boy,” he purrs, pulling Steve a bit off the wall to really press their dicks together and wrap his hands around his ass. “You don’t think I won’t leave you happy, do you, baby? You make it good for me and I’ll make it real good for you,” he promises. “Oh yeah?” Steve asks, and he puts his hand on Billy’s dick, squeezes a bit, which is a start. “Better than last time?” Billy feels his cock twitch and get fatter in Steve’s hand just at the touch and the thought of last time even though he makes a point to look afronted at the idea that it could get better than last time. “Maybe. You gonna get on your knees anytime soon?” he grumbles back. “No,” Steve smirks, and pushes away from the door, takes Billy’s hand and pushes him down on the bench by the big dresser. Billy watches Steve climb on top of him, almost eerie in the silvery light, and he shivers when Steve’s cool hands open the buttons on his jeans. He’s slow about it, almost tentative, and Billy is pretty damn certain he’s never done anything like this in his life. It sends a shiver of lust down all the way to his cock. Meanwhile, Steve has taken him out, is jerking him off slowly, deliberately, spreads the wetness on top with the pad of his thumb. “It doesn’t bite,” he teases a little to hide the way a flush is already creeping up his chest bit by bit, and Steve just snorts and ignores him, but not for long. He bends down and then Billy feels wet heat envelop the tip of his cock, Steve sucking him into his mouth. He groans, strains upwards to see better, doesn’t want to miss it, needs to burn this sight into his memory, for who knows if he’ll ever see it again.“Mm, yeah. Like that, pretty boy, keep going just like that,” he mutters down at Steve, groaning when he can feel his lips tighten around him. He wants more than anything to see those lips too, but that would require moving Steve’s thick fringe out of the way and Billy tells himself he’s not desperate enough for that yet, so he just leans back and focuses on the sensation as Steve takes more of him into his warm, wet mouth. Steve pulls back all of a sudden, coughing, but Billy doesn’t have to coax him back, a moment later he is back with a vengeance, sucking Billy down, sucking hard, trying to go all the way, but trying too hard, again, choking on Billy’s dick on the way down. The determination is fucking hot, even if it’s pretty clear Steve doesn’t have much of a clue of what he’s doing. Billy watches it, transfixed, for a little while as Steve pushes his own hair out of the way to give himself more room, until the intermittent suction gets to be too much and he has to pull him off.“Okay, okay, stop that,” he hisses, “it’s not a field sport, Harrington, jesus.”“What?” Steve’s eyes are staring up at him, glittering in the dim light. “You changed your fucking mind, are you kidding me?” Billy can see the tense set of his mouth, the way he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He’s flustered. It’s… cute. “Not at all, but if you keep trying to fight my dick we’re gonna be here a long time, sweetheart,” Billy smirks up at him, wiping a little spit from his chin with a thumb. Steve isn’t meeting his eyes. “You didn’t like it.” He sounds disappointed. Fuck me, Billy thinks, and has to pinch himself to check if this is real.“Just chill out, all right?” he huffs, feeling a little put on the spot by this. “Relax a little. Breathe through your nose, and time it so you’re not trying to swallow and breathe at the same time. You’re not pro enough for that yet, so don’t even try it.” Billy can see the flush on Steve’s cheeks even in the dim, blue-ish light from the pool and it makes his pulse pound stupidly. He turns Steve’s chin up to meet their eyes and gives him his nicest smirk.“You’re doin’ good, pretty boy. You got drive. I like it. Just -- stay focused.”There is a moment where Steve doesn’t do anything, just stares down at Billy, and Billy thinks that that’s it, he’s blown his chance. Steve Harrington has come to his senses again. He’s gonna get up and leave now, and beat off under the shower thinking of his girlfriend. But then Steve leans down again and by god, he is sucking Billy’s dick down, this time with more deliberation. And fuck it all if Steve trying his best to do everything Billy told him to isn’t the hottest thing Billy has ever seen. This time Billy hardly lasts a second before he’s slipping a hand into Steve’s thick hair and brushing it aside to watch, hips fighting to stay still as Steve takes a deep breath and takes most of him into his wet heat in one go.“Fuck, yeah,” he hums when he feels Steve’s tongue work over his head. The determination is still there, and now that Steve’s slowed it down a little Billy can feel every ounce of it, sending blood racing through his veins. When Harrington glances up, eyes wide and questioning like he’s still not sure he’s doing this right, Billy bites his lip and laughs a little, feeling high.“Just like that. Fucking perfect,” he praises through a groan, and when Steve hums back Billy’s brain shorts out a little. “Fuck me. I’m close, Steve. Shit…” Too close to care that that may have been the first time he’s ever called Steve by just his first name out loud, because holy shit he’s about to come at King Steve’s hand. At his mouth. Maybe even in it.Steve actually seems to put more effort into it then, sucks harder, moans around his mouth full of cock once he’s realised what that does to Billy. He flinches when the first spurt of come hits his tongue, but stays true, keeps sucking Billy through it, slower now, actually swallows. Holy fuck. Billy must come for a full fucking minute. It feels like he does. Feels like he’s died and gone to heaven when Steve finally pulls off of his spent, slick cock and wipes his shiny lips with the back of his hand. He can’t help but smile up at those pretty brown eyes then and bite his lip.“Fuck, that deserves a real good fuckin’ turn,” he breathes after a while. “Please tell me you’ve got lube up there in that fancy house of yours, pretty boy.”“Lube?” Steve looks at him, frowning like he’s talking about car grease or something. His chin is still wet with spit, and his hair mussed, a high spot of color on both cheeks. He looks a mess, and he looks delicious. Billy wants to eat him up with a spoon. “Lube. You know. Vaseline or some shit like that.” Steve frowns, slowly shakes his head. “For what?”The better to finger you with, sweetheart, Billy thinks to himself with a smirk, but he doesn’t say that. Doesn’t really wanna fight for that right now. So instead he puts himself back together a bit and makes for the door.“Don’t worry about it,” he says over his shoulder. “Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
And just like that, Billy is gone. At first Steve welcomes the moment to himself, time to calm his breathing, try and slow down, because his heart is still beating like a jackhammer. Still from the rush of getting Billy off with his mouth? No, Steve knows it’s more than that, it’s the things Billy doesn’t say, not out loud. Just in between. Like, That deserves a real good fucking turn, and I’ll make it real good for you. Like the way Billy keeps looking at him, all hungry, and starts talking about lube. Steve isn’t a total idiot, and he isn’t fucking naive. Alright, so maybe trading handies with Jimmy Kestrup at summer camp didn’t quite prepare him for all of this, but he knows what gay guys do, how they fuck. He’s seen pictures in dirty magazines, he’s heard the jokes about dropping your soap in prison showers and all that. He wants to fuck me. And the longer Billy stays away, the more time he has to freak out over that. Or maybe Billy isn’t coming back. Because he doesn’t want to, after all. Harrington? Yeah, I tried him once, but he’s a lousy lay. You shoulda seen him try to blow me, it was hilarious… Even though Billy isn’t even around anymore, Steve flushes at the thought. I got better at the end, he thinks stubbornly. And he came, didn’t he? The evidence of that still tastes sour on Steve’s tongue.He catches himself looking out the foggy window to see if Billy is coming back, but there’s no sign of him. Fuck. Steve sits down on the bench, looks down at his hands, wishes he hadn’t taken off his watch before jumping in the pool. How long should he wait until it’s safe to say that Billy isn’t coming back? Five minutes? Ten? Surely it’s already been ten minutes. If Billy had wanted to come back, with his lube, to fuck Steve with, he’d be here already. He split, Steve realises with dull disappointment as more seconds tick by. And he can’t quite believe that he seems to regret not getting fucked by Billy Hargrove tonight. In a last effort of desperation, he counts to sixty. Then continues on to a hundred. And then he gets up from the bench. Fuck him, he thinks with an annoyed huff as he makes his way to the door. I’d have been a fucking awesome lay. Dickhead. He’s barely got the door open, though, before it’s opening the rest of the way on its own and Billy is rushing through it, straight into him. “Jesus!” “What the fuck!” they hiss as Billy leans back on the door to close it and touches his nose a little tenderly. “You runnin’ out on me, Harrington?” he gripes. “After I went to all this work to find some good shit for you?”Steve shakes his head. “Just wanted to see where you were,” he lies. “What took you so long?” He looks Billy over furtively, wants to know what he considers good shit, but he is confounded for a moment by the green bottle Billy is carrying in one hand. “Is that… olive oil?”Billy just smirks. “Extra virgin,” he says, and Steve wants to scowl, but he can’t stop the snort that makes it through. At least Billy looks somewhat ashamed of the awful pun, but if Steve’s honest the fact that he even thought of something so stupid is… well, not quite endearing but… “I can’t believe you.”“It honestly does make a good lube. I’m not an animal. So, are we doing this or what? How you feelin’?” Billy reaches out and gropes him over his pants unannounced like he’s just testing the waters or something and honestly that habit of his is getting old fast, but then the hand gets a little more comfortable there, rubs a little life back into him, and he doesn’t mind so much. Still, Billy’s hand on his cock doesn’t so much remove his jitters as it reminds him where this is going. Sex, full on sex, fucking. Getting fucked. Steve takes a deep breath, tries to be cool about it. It can’t be that bad, or people wouldn’t keep doing it. Right? Except it’s not Billy getting fucked, it’s the other way round. Why would it be the other way round if it feels so fucking great? Now Billy is undoing the button on Steve’s jeans, then the zipper, and Steve shudders at the feeling of his cool hand. “Touchy,” Billy comments, but Steve shrugs and huffs out a weak laugh. “I can’t believe you got olive oil to fuck me with,” he mutters. “What am I, a fucking salad?” Billy laughs a bit at that, shakes his head like Steve’s said something funny. “I’m not actually gonna—” he starts, but then he glances up at Steve’s face and seems to get another idea. He bites his lip and grins as he reaches around to give Steve’s ass a squeeze. “I promise I’ll be gentle, pretty boy,” he purrs. Steve snorts. “Oh yeah, I bet that line totally works on guys who’ve never met you before,” he grouses, but then Billy kneels down, and, alright. Steve likes the general direction this is going in, at least. The fact that Billy licks Steve’s dick from base to tip before doing anything else, like it’s compulsive at this point, is at least more than a little flattering.He stays there for a little while, till Steve is feeling pretty good again and maybe not quite so freaked out about it all. Then he stands up and slaps his ass like he owns it, though, and the magic dims somewhat. “Get on the bench. On your knees,” Billy orders. It makes Steve huff, the tone of his voice. Like he’s calling the shots around here? “Sir, yes, sir,” he gives back wryly and starts getting out of his pants, in his own good time. “You want me to do some push-ups while I’m at it?” Billy grins a more familiar grin that makes Steve feel for a second like they’re back at basketball practice and comes to stand over him as Steve sits down on his knees on the bench. “Mhm. Then I’ll have you crawl through mud after,” he says, and Steve can see him imagining that. Dick. “Get down on your front, soldier,” Billy reminds him when he stays up on his knees for too long, but Steve shakes his head, and casually leans in, tugs on Billy’s shirt. Which is already half-open, but still. “Nuh-uh. You’re getting naked first, Hargrove. Hop to it.” Two can play this game. Billy’s adam’s apple bobs and he smirks a little, nodding, before he strips his shirt off and tosses it over a chair. “Got some kinda heater in here? Or are we gonna freeze to death while I open you up, pretty boy?” he asks, pulling off his boots and starting on the buttons of his jeans. “I didn’t think you could feel cold like normal people,” Steve teases, getting up from the bench again and checking the space heater, setting it to toasty before going back to where Billy is taking off the last of his clothes. “You know, with the way you run around half-naked in October…” By now, Billy is completely naked. And sure, Steve has seen him without clothes before -- in the showers, in the locker room, with all the other guys. But that was different. They weren’t alone then, and Steve wasn’t about to let Billy fuck him. It makes everything feel a bit more intense. But Billy is still nice to look at. And his cock is definitely showing interest again, Steve notes with some satisfaction. So he shrugs off his own sweater and kneels on the bench, goes to his hands and knees, and looks over his shoulder at Billy. Billy, who looks pretty damn appreciative of everything he’s got in front of him. The way it looks, Billy is completely into this, and it works wonders to make Steve feel good about what they’re about to do.Billy steps in close and gets a handful of Steve’s ass, and Steve closes his eyes a little, convincing himself for a moment that it’s just a massage after all. But then he hears the bottle of oil open and a second later it’s dripping straight onto his skin. Cold and slick down the crack of his ass and over his hole in a way that makes him jump. Billy doesn’t seem to notice though. Just brings his hand in and slicks his fingers through the mess between his cheeks. He hisses at the first touch of finger to his hole, and feels it clench against Billy’s hand before he’s even trying to get inside. “Nothin’ to worry about, Harrington,” Billy rumbles from behind him, rubbing circles over that same spot like he’s getting their bodies acquainted or something. “It’s just me, the most violent piece of shit you know,” he jokes. Steve snorts, wants to remark that from what he’s seen, Billy is nothing of the sort. Just a lot of bark so people won’t know there’s no bite. He’s about to say something along those lines when Billy suddenly pushes his finger most of the way inside, and it’s enough of a surprise that it makes Steve gasp and forget what he was thinking. But it’s not bad. Not what he’d have thought it would feel like. It’s weird, and kinda tight, but almost… intimate, in a way. More so than Billy Hargrove’s dick in his mouth was, for sure. “Fuck,” Billy hums, wiggling around a little inside him before he pulls out slow and adds more of the oil. “Have you done this before, pretty boy? Your ass is fucking…” he slips his finger in again with a satisfied sound and strokes Steve from inside.“Shit,” Steve hisses, back arching, toes curling, because he has no idea what Billy is doing to him, but it feels fucking incredible. “Fuck,” he moans, “do that again, come on,” and when Billy does, his smug-as-hell smile doesn’t even bother Steve one bit, not when he can make Steve feel like that.“... greedy,” Billy says, and it takes Steve a minute to realize he’s finishing his thought. He can feel a flush creep from his cheeks to his chest at that, and scowls. Or tries to, anyway. The next second, Billy’s fucking his finger hard into that spot and Steve can’t help but clench around him greedily and groan. “Ready for another one?” Billy asks, and he sounds almost as wrecked from watching as Steve feels.More of this? Yes, please, Steve wants to say, but he only manages a hum and a nod, and as soon as Billy is pushing in again, wider than before, plundering him, making him feel weak and shivery and tingling and fucking alive, he lets his head drop, because just keeping it up is too much work. He swallows, his throat parched, and says with almost exhausting bravado, “That all you got, man? Or is that enough to get ready for your dick?” The effort makes him shiver, especially when Billy viciously strokes that spot again.“Careful, Harrington,” Billy growls behind him, but Steve can hear the smile in his voice as he leans in close and nips at the fleshy part of his ass. Not really a kiss, but maybe Billy’s version of one. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll give it to you just like you’re askin’ for.” He gives Steve’s other cheek a slap that cracks through the quiet, barely furnished space around them loud and sends a curious shiver up Steve’s spine. “You won’t be able to sit right for days if we do it like that, pretty boy,” he says. “You want that?”“Or what, you’re gonna be a gentleman on my account?” Steve laughs, but Billy’s thick fingers in his ass soon turn that laugh into a low, needy moan. “Shit,” he repeats through numb lips, drops down to his elbows to give his trembling arms a rest, and the change in angle sends a spike of pleasure through him that leaves him almost weak. Just do with me whatever you like, he thinks. But he doesn’t say it. Billy is going to, anyway. And Billy doesn’t answer the gentleman comment at all except to drip out a surely unreasonable and unnecessary amount of oil between Steve’s cheeks. He can hear some land on the soft padding of the bench and squirms a little, but can’t care for long about what a fucking mess they must be making. He’ll buy his mother a new bench if he has to.“You look so fucking good like this, Harrington, jesus,” Billy murmurs, and Steve can hear him set down the bottle again, hear it half slip out of his slick hand awkwardly. When Billy pulls both fingers out and pushes back in slow with a third, Steve’s vision goes white as his knuckles where he clings hard to the wood in front of him.Steve knows a line when he hears it, so he doesn’t pay much attention to what Billy says now, just closes his eyes and concentrates on the fingers in his ass, which if he actually thinks about it should feel weird and awful and gross, and really don’t. Billy knows this stuff, knows how to twist his fingers inside Steve to make him moan and pant and push back hard for more. Billy knows his shit, and Steve could kiss him for it. His dick feels thick and heavy, and is dripping onto the ruined bench padding. The air is so thick with the smell of olive oil, Steve feels high on it. When Billy reaches for the bottle again, Steve is sure they’re gonna actually start fucking now, but Billy only comes back with his fingers, spreading Steve’s ass, which already feels as widely open as a barn door, for fuck’s sake. “Come on,” Steve grunts out, grinding his teeth. “Come on— fuck,” he moans, when Billy seems to misunderstand him, grinds into him harder with just his fingers. “You gonna give it to me or what?”Billy groans and grinds his fingers in again.“Yeah.” He sounds distracted. Fucked out as Steve probably does by this point. “Yeah, just lemme get a—” He pulls out fast enough to make Steve yelp and curl his toes, and then Steve can hear only the sound of frustrated fumbling. When he turns around Billy is desperately trying to open a condom wrapper with his oily fingers, and failing spectacularly. He notices Steve watching him and lets out an annoyed huff. Steve quickly intervenes when Billy makes a move to rip the thing open with his teeth. “Stop that, you’ll break it,” he grinds out, finding it hard to adjust to such a stupidly mundane thing after Billy had him flying high as a kite on his fingers only moments before. “Give me that.”He fumbles the rubber free on sheer muscle memory, the practiced ease of having done it a hundred times, then he nearly puts it on himself, laughs when he realizes. Billy watches him, frowning, his hard dick bobbing between them, and, ok, this is new. Steve has never put it on someone else’s dick before. “Hold still.” He falters half a moment when he realises where that dick is going, but quickly catches himself. Rolling the condom onto Billy’s dick takes both his hands but he does manage in the end, gives it an appreciative stroke when he’s done. Looking up after that has him looking straight into Billy’s eyes, and that’s a mistake. Billy is watching him, earnestly, and just that makes Steve flush again, as if that is more intense than having Billy about to fuck him. He turns away, turns to face the bench, nice and safe. Not looking into Billy Hargrove’s eyes already makes him feel more relaxed. “Well?” he asks impatiently when the silence stretches and Billy behind him is doing nothing at all. “What are you waiting for?”“You’re so fucking pushy, goddamn,” Billy grumbles, but he’s laughing a bit and that feels a hell of a lot better than silence so Steve lets him have it, breathing deep when he feels the solid, warm, slick of Billy’s dick finally pressing between his cheeks. Steve half expects him to make a big deal about the actual act, but instead he just wiggles a little and starts slipping inside, past that first ring of muscle. And he feels like all his breath is being pushed out of his lungs by Billy’s dick somehow but the stretch of it, the full, warm feeling of it inside of him is so… Steve groans and leans down on his arms in front of himself, back arching in a way he can picture vividly from all the times a girl has done it for him, all the times he’s said exactly the words Billy’s muttering from behind him now -- well, maybe a little nicer.“Fuck, knew you’d be perfect like this. Just a born cock slut, aren’t you? Fucking hot as hell, Harrington.” Steve is about to complain about all the stupid talk, ask if he ever shuts up, when Billy finally really moves. It’s too much at first, too much to process, not enough air left in the world to breathe. Billy’s dick never used to be this huge, did it? He remembers it more like average size, but right now it feels enormous, pushes everything else in the world aside. Steve lets out a soft, strangled breath, pushes back into Billy, tries to go with the motion, just as Billy pulls back and snaps into him, all the way, like they are magnets, flush together, and just when Steve wonders how they are ever gonna move again, Billy just does it, and it feels amazing. “Holy shit,” Steve gasps, holds on to the bench, jolted forwards from the way Billy thrusts, more confident now, more controlled. “Mmmh, you like that, baby?” he can hear Billy behind him, and not even the cheap pornstar dialogue can take away from the glorious feeling of his cock, grinding and pushing into Steve’s ass just right. Billy shoves in again and again, hard, setting up a rhythm that Steve feels like is going to rock him apart at the seams every time, and Steve whimpers a little as he tries to not be jolted by every stroke. He can hear Billy chuckle behind him, and clenches his ass hard around him in retaliation, gasping along with Billy at the feeling that sends shooting up his spine.“Fuck. Yeah,” Billy hisses, and then he’s picking up the pace, the filthy sound of skin slapping skin fills the room as Billy fucks into him like it’s a fucking race, making the bench groan as he grunts and moans, barely audible like he’s trying to bite every sound he makes back. Then Billy’s got his thick fingers wrapped around Steve’s desperately leaking cock, and nothing else exists except for the electric points of contact between their bodies, and Steve hasn’t even got time enough to try and pull himself together even a little bit. Everything slips out of his control so fast, it’s rushing, and he comes all over Billy’s hand with a helpless moan.Behind him, Billy hardly stutters. His rhythm stays relentless until Steve’s twitching around him, feeling like a live wire, his cock dribbling over Billy’s still hand around him while he gasps and whines. He’s about to bite out a demand that Billy fucking finish already because he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it, when suddenly the weight behind him stills and he can feel it. The jump and tense of Billy’s balls, his whole body against him, and then the low groan and relax when he comes into the condom. And Steve just leans on his arms and breathes, tries to breathe some sense into the world. Billy’s dick is still in his ass, he feels wide and open and in tune with fucking everything. Then Billy pulls out, and Steve just feels empty. He slips down onto the bench, olive oil fucking everywhere. At first he tries to keep the weight off his ass, shifts to the side, but his legs are still sort of trembling, and it doesn’t even feel so bad, so he gives up and just sits, breathing hard. Stares at Billy. And then grins a bit. “Holy fucking shit.”Billy goes a little pinker than he already is, flushed with exertion, and looks like he can’t help the grin that turns up his lips as he grabs his jeans for a cigarette.“Yeah,” he huffs, looking away from Steve mostly while he flicks a Marlboro Red up between his lips and lights it, but then glancing up at him again, from the thighs up, and grinning again. “Yeah,” he says, all self-satisfied.Steve waits for a beat, but no more than a few breaths. “Well, don’t hog it,” he says amiably, and stretches out his hand. “Hand it over or light me one, too.” Billy finishes his draw and shrugs. Offers Steve the half a cigarette that’s left, looking like he doubts Steve will dare put his mouth on something he just had between his lips even though Steve’s still got olive oil and come all over and up inside him as evidence that apparently he’ll do fuckin’ anything for a good time.“Take it,” he says, picking up his pants again in the other hand. “I better get out of here before the old man realizes I’m not home.” And if that’s not the least convincing cover Steve’s ever heard -- in fact, it’s one he thinks he’s used to leave a girl’s bedroom after he’s finished with her in the past.Guess I’m getting the whole experience from the other side tonight, he thinks lazily as he watches Billy get dressed and tries not to let on that the cigarette tastes fucking vile. He is always a little sleepy after coming, but this whole thing has left him with bone-deep exhaustion. It’s all he can do just to sit and smoke, and not fall asleep on the fucking bench. So it feels like only seconds have passed before Billy is dressed and looking almost presentable, the fucking dick, while Steve is still sitting there, a naked mess.“See you ‘round, Harrington,” Billy says, just glancing back for a second, and his eyes drift all over Steve like he’s memorizing the image.“Not if I see you first,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, and starts to get up. He doesn’t want to watch Billy leave, that’s fucking pathetic. He got what he came for, and he’s going now, and that’s that. It still felt fucking awesome. Steve knows he should just book it under a new experience and move on. Still, the way Billy leaves him so fucking completely like the last cliché of a guy who got what he wanted… it’s more disappointing than Steve would have thought, if he had ever given it any thought at all.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It’s not exactly a short walk home from Loch Nora, and Billy’s legs are still wobbly from that second orgasm. The one where he came in Steve Harrington’s pretty ass and King Steve whimpered through it like it was the best thing he’d ever felt. In the bracing chill of Harrington’s darkened neighborhood streets, Billy almost feels like all of that must have been a dream. If he weren’t so clear-headed now, he’d almost think he’d drank too much tonight. Hallucinated it or just passed out and told himself a story that it’d happened.As the houses around him get smaller and their fences get dingier, he has to keep muttering under his breath, reminding himself of all the shit he has wet dreams about happening, that just fucking happened in real life.“‘Can’t believe you got olive oil to fuck me with.’ Jesus, Harrington,” he mutters, shaking his head.By the time he gets home, his dick is trying to fill out in his jeans again, determined to keep the night going, but Billy’s too spent to care. He climbs in his bedroom window and collapses mostly-dressed onto his half-made bed, kicking off the rest of his clothes before he falls asleep.He wakes up late the next morning, but at least it’s Maxine at his door at a quarter to 8, not Neil, so he actually still has a chance of making it before final bell instead of listening to some lecture on punctuality until the middle of second period. By the time he and Max pull in to the parking lot between their schools he feels mostly awake, but the fact that he forgot to drink the coffee he made himself and didn’t have time to fix his hair right means he looks every inch as exhausted as he feels. Still, when Harrington staggers into first period half an hour late and is definitely walking a bit funny, Billy can’t help but grin a little.Steve doesn’t look at him once during all first period, which is just as Billy wants it, anyway. They just had a bit of fun, and Steve Harrington is a guy, so he knows what this was: a one-time thing, no aftermath required. In, out, and they both had a good time doing it. Perfect way to go about it. By the time they’re in their third and final shared period of the day, though, Billy’s squirming under the complete and total radio silence he’s getting from Steve. In Spanish class he’d even cracked a rare joke that everyone else had laughed at, but Harrington, apparently, hadn’t found to his liking. Bitch, Billy mutters to himself as Harrington trips a little on his bag on the way to his desk but still doesn’t look up. After the night I gave you? I rocked your fucking world and what? Now you’re too good for me?It doesn’t take long for Billy’s jealous annoyance to distill, though, and become disgust for himself. Soon after his attempt to be partnered with Harrison for a group activity lands him doing a lab with the only bigger dimwit from their basketball team, Denny Turnbull, Billy retreats back into himself and decides that he can’t be fucking trusted to spend his day any way else besides complete silence. He doesn’t hang around between the last few classes of the day, and definitely doesn’t glance over at Steve anymore at all.Once school ends, though, he gets complacent. Looks up as he’s leaving his last class and locks eyes on the cant of narrow hips, perfect ass sticking out like he wants the attention. Before he can stop himself, Billy looks up to see Steve with Nancy Wheeler. She’s leaning against her locker and smiling up at Steve like he’s funnier than he is aggravatingly hot, and Billy would like nothing better than to punch either one of them in their stupid, smiling face. The cloud of anger around him must be fucking palpable, because when he walks past them Steve looks up at last, at last. And he has that vague look on his face that Billy hates, but then he just continues talking to his girl. By now Billy is ready to break something. He fumbles with his locker combination and nearly rips the door out of its hinges in his haste to get it open. Fucking hell. And there’s no basketball practice that day to work off his anger at. He’s gonna have to go home like this and try not to murder his little brat of a step-sister on the way. Right then there’s a shadow over him, blocking out the light. He looks up, ready to growl out some random curses, but it’s Steve. And fuck if that doesn’t make all the words just stay stuck in his throat. While he tries to swallow them down, Steve smiles a bit and holds out his hand. “You dropped this, I think.”It’s his lighter. Not the good one, just a cheap Bic lighter, one of a dozen. He didn’t even notice it was gone. But he must have left it at Steve’s the other night. He takes it quickly, but the second their fingers brush still sends fire up his arm.“Thanks,” he mutters, shoving it in his jeans pocket and glancing over Steve’s shoulder. Wheeler is still standing at his locker where Harrington left her, and she’s giving him a bit of stink-eye, like she thinks he’s contaminating her precious Steve. Good, he thinks, smirking at her. You bet your ass I fucking am. You bet his ass.“You going to this rally thing after school?” he asks stupidly, just wanting to keep Steve talking to him now as Nancy chews her lip and turns back to her locker. Billy hadn’t been planning to go. It sounds stupid as fuck. Maybe if he knew Steve was going, though, it might be worth it. The school would be open and empty at least…“Yeah, I’m going with…” Steve looks around at Nancy, sees she’s closing her locker and about to leave, and he frowns. “I’m probably going,” he ends, and shrugs. He doesn’t have to say he’s planning to go with his girlfriend, Billy already knows. It still makes his stomach ache. But then Steve half-smiles at him. “See you there?” The thought that Harrington seems to want to see him there sets something new and fucking weak going in his gut, but Billy shoves it down as he scoffs and shuts his locker with a bang.“Got better things to do with my time than get peppy for Hawkins fucking High,” he says, shrugging his book bag over one shoulder and tugging up his collar. He’s about to walk off and bitterly leave Steve to his canoodling, when some red-haired chick Billy recognizes from English rushes up to Steve and states with absolute delighted horror on her face:“You’ll never believe what I just saw in the darkroom.”She leans closer to Steve’s ear and whispers something, and Billy would like to slap her for the damned theatrics. But Steve shoots him a look before he turns and walks outside with her, and that look is reason enough for Billy to tag along. “You told Tommy?” Steve asks her when they make their way over to the parking lot and Tommy and Carol are waiting next to some piece of shit car Billy has never seen before. “They were in some of them, too,” she hisses importantly. Billy can’t roll his eyes enough at how much she is enjoying all of this drama she’s drumming up. “Some of what?” he hisses to Steve as Tommy H. waves them down, but Steve just mutters back, “Pictures,” before Carol’s talking over them all.“I always knew he was gonna end up a total creep. Didn’t I tell you?” She turns to Tommy to vouch for her and he shrugs in apparent agreement. “I’m surprised he hasn’t been caught with some poor girl’s panties in his locker yet,” she says authoritatively.“Jesus, Carol,” Steve groans, then shakes his head. “It’s probably nothing. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Nobody seems to notice Billy or wonder what he’s doing there, but before he can ask what the hell they’re all talking about, the red-headed girl hisses, “here he comes!” And some guy walks up to them, looking wary. Billy leans back against the car, watching the others round up on him. What the hell is going on? “… as connoisseurs of art,” Steve mocks the other guy, and Billy smirks to himself, wonders where Steve picked up that SAT vocabulary. His smile dies on his face when Steve passes around the pictures from the boy’s bookbag, though. Shit. They’re pretty innocent, as far as subject matter goes. Just a few kids fooling around in a pool at night. Him and Wheeler’s friend watching from the sidelines. But the thought that someone was out in the dark, watching them, taking pictures without them having any idea about it, makes Billy’s blood run cold. How long was he out there? Did he see us go into the pool house?Steve seems similarly disturbed, the more pictures he sees, flipping through them fast like he’s trying to find the really shameful ones before Tommy and Carol can see them. “I was looking for my brother,” the creep mutters, and Billy realizes maybe he does recognize him after all. Posting up pictures of some wide-eyed kid all over the place. Doesn’t think he’s ever seen him in class though. Does he even go here?And “no, no, this is called stalking,” Steve interrupts him as Billy takes the last of the pictures from him and shudders. He can see Barbara in it, and him standing over her bleeding hand. Fucking looks like they’re gonna kiss from this angle. Every one of these pictures looks fucking salacious.“What’s going on?” someone asks, walking up, and for a second Billy thinks it’s a teacher but then he looks up and Princess Wheeler is frowning at them all like the guy they’re picking on is her boyfriend. God, I hope. They deserve each other, Billy thinks. At least she looks as scandalized as the rest of them when Steve hands her one of the pictures. Billy thinks he saw that one of her, changing out of her wet clothes up in Steve’s room. Caught in a glossy 7x5” picture, it looks like she’s getting naked to entertain. “See, he knows it’s wrong,” Steve says, and there’s a hint of steel beneath the amiable tone now. “That’s the thing about perverts, they just can’t help themselves…” He starts ripping up the stash of pictures in his hand, and exchanges a glance with Tommy H. “We’ll just have to take away his toy.”When Steve breaks the creep’s camera, Nancy Wheeler almost looks like she’s sorry. Billy, meanwhile, wants to give Harrington a big ol’ fucking kiss. Standing there beside him, fuming and feeling reckless, Billy knows that if he opened his mouth right now it’d all get dangerous ugly fast. So when Steve takes matters into his own hands, the catharsis of watching the bits of those pictures fall to the ground makes Billy feel alive, and when the creep’s camera follows it shortly, Billy feels fucking in love, even though the next thing Steve does is shoulder past him to head back towards the school.“Come on, the rally’s about to start,” he mutters, and his cronies fall in behind him. Tommy laughing and Carol, the idiot, ripping the photos she’d been holding once before she prances off behind them. Like that’s an effective destruction of the evidence at all.Nancy and her friend stay behind, Barb bending down to get a look at the pictures and Wheeler apparently trying to find the ones of herself, but Billy doesn’t care. He’s more interested in the freak, who has picked up all the big pieces of his camera now and is sniffling, shoving them into his bag. Billy corners him against his piece of shit car and blocks him from moving with a firm arm across the chest. He’s taller than Billy, but he doesn’t carry himself like he knows that. There’s a fear in his eyes when Billy presses in close that he recognizes. Good, he thinks. I can use that. “You can get another camera, creep,” he breathes. “But I hear you’re taking pictures like that ‘round here again, you’re gonna need a new face. You hear me?”“Hey, Nance!” Steve calls, jogging back towards them a bit once he realizes his girlfriend’s not following. “C’mon!”Billy can hear Barbara muttering about how they shouldn’t, and Steve’s footsteps getting closer, but he doesn’t look up. Gives this sicko another shove when he tries to look. “I said, do you hear me, asshole?” he growls, a little louder now. “Hey. Come on.” There’s a hand on his arm, long fingers gripping him. Billy looks up and sees Steve standing next to him. “Let go of him. Let’s go,” he says, and when Billy looks up, Wheeler and her friend are watching him with wide, worried eyes. Billy lets go of the creep then, but not without one last shove. Steve actually pulls him away, one arm around his shoulder. “Not worth it, man,” he says in a low voice as he walks him away, back toward the school. “He didn’t see shit.” He seems to realise then that it’s just Billy and him, though, and stops, calling back to Nancy. “Hey, Nance. You coming?” But Wheeler and her friend take one glance at Billy, glued to Harrington’s side now, and stay where they are. Nancy shakes her head slowly.“I should get home,” she says. “My mom, you know…” she shrugs like that makes up for her lack of an excuse besides I’m afraid of the guy on your arm. Billy leers, and she glances away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”Steve’s tense against him, but he does a decent job of sounding like his little heart isn’t breaking at that. “Okay, that’s cool,” he says airily and waves. “See you. Bye, Barb.”Billy rolls his eyes and shrugs out from under Steve’s lanky arm as soon as the girls turn away, definitely not missing the heat of it as soon as it’s gone, and turns to head for his own car. But Steve turns faster than he expects him to, and catches him again.“Woah, where d’you think you’re going?” he asks, and Billy raises an eyebrow.“Home,” he supplies blankly.Steve glances back at the disinterested backs of his friends on the one side and his girl on the other, and grabs Billy by the wrist again, dragging him towards the school.“You almost beat the shit out of Jonathan Byers in broad daylight, buddy… you’re not going anywhere till you promise me you’re not gonna do something stupid that ends up getting us caught for— for last night,” he huffs, and Billy can’t help but smirk a little at the way his cheeks color at those words.“Not like we broke any rules,” he shrugs just to watch Harrington squirm a little more. He’s not about to tell anybody that they actually fucked last night, of course, but the fact that Steve thinks even for a second that he might makes him look beautifully flustered, and Billy eats it up. “Or are you and Wheeler— you’re not actually goin’ steady yet, are you? I mean, doesn’t look like it to me…”Steve shoots him a look that quickly shuts him up. Fuck, but that just sounded pathetic, and if even Steve Harrington noticed just how pathetic…“I’m working on it,” Steve says curtly. But he still hasn’t let go of Billy’s hand, and when they finally enter the school it’s like a ghost town. Tommy and Carol and that other bitch are nowhere to be seen. Billy looks around pointedly and then grins at Harrington, quickly turning the tables and shoving him into the nearest classroom, locking the door behind them. “You didn’t really want to go to that stupid rally, did you, baby?” he teases, drawing the blinds near the door one by one. “What was it you were saying about punishing me for nearly getting us caught? How ‘bout we break some real rules instead, huh?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Steve is frowning at him like he thinks he’s about to be tricked into something. “What, you got something better to do?” he asks, makes his voice do that thing, the thing where it telegraphs with every word, you are gorgeous and I want you so bad, come on, pretty boy… His fingers reach for Steve’s fly, but Steve is still frowning, shying away a bit. “You left so fast last night I thought I could see puffs of dust, speed racer,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Billy groans in the back of his throat and takes a seat on the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom, considering lighting a cigarette. If he can’t have one thing in his mouth…“What d’you want, cuddles?” he rolls his eyes, “I don’t do that shit, Harrington.” He pulls out a cigarette but doesn’t light it yet.“I’m not talking about cuddles,” Steve spits out, clearly having trouble not sounding like a needy girlfriend, and more and more aware of it. Billy preens. “But what the fuck is this supposed to be? You think I’ll just drop everything and come running whenever you’re up for it?”He’s come over to where Billy is leaning, tries to use the height difference to his advantage, towering over him, but all that does is make Billy want to drag him down. “So, what d’you want it to be then, pretty boy?” he asks, parting his legs a little more obviously so Harrington seems to notice how their dicks are mere inches apart and his own twitches visibly in his nice jeans. “What do you want?” Billy reiterates, voice lowering as he slips the unlit cigarette between his lips, freeing his hands to find the outsides of Steve’s perfect thighs. And he’s shamelessly trying to distract Steve from this talk with more sex now, but he doesn’t care how slutty he sounds, as long as it eventually works.Steve is looking down at Billy’s hands, moves a little closer. He is still frowning, but he’s still there. “Are you saying it can be whatever I want?” And, damn. The tone of a challenge alone runs a little shiver down Billy’s spine. Damn, he’s good. Billy smirks up at him to hide the fact his heart is already beating faster than it was, and moves his hands over the soft shape of his thighs appreciatively. “Just don’t get too kinky, now,” he teases. “I left the handcuffs in my other pair of pants.”Steve snorts, but if Billy isn’t imagining things, he is leaning into the touch now. “Handcuffs is where you draw the line?” he says, a little mockingly, and starts to undo the buttons on Billy’s shirt unhurriedly. Every once in awhile his cool fingers brush the bare skin of Billy’s chest underneath. “I’d have thought you were more adventurous than that…”There’s a fire kindling under Billy’s skin everywhere Steve’s fingers touch, and it’s not stopping there. The idea of letting Harrington tie him up, tie him down, have his filthy way with him, is enough to have him straining in his jeans. The idea of tying Harrington down is too good to fathom. But would either of them really trust the other with that kind of power now? Or ever?“You wanna take me on an adventure, King Steve?” Billy asks, declining to answer that particular kink at this time, though the flush under his skin and the hitch in his breathing must be giving him away. “Whatever I want?” Steve presses, and he’s not looking him in the eyes, is concentrating on pushing Billy’s open shirt out of the way, but his tone is no less intent. Billy huffs even as he lets Steve toss his shirt behind the desk and presses into Steve’s touch as it returns to his chest. The fire is still burning under his skin and in his belly but he’ll be damned if he’s gonna fall into a trap like this without some very powerful motivation. “Christ, Harrington, just tell me what you want already,” he grouses, slipping a hand in close to Steve’s dick but not quite to it, playing with the top button on his pants. But Steve seems to be far too engrossed by what they’re saying and not saying to even pay any attention to that. One of his hands strays over Billy’s chest, and by now his nipples are hard enough to cut glass. “Maybe I don’t know what I want, yet,” he says, and leans in closer. Billy can smell his expensive aftershave, feel his breath on the side of his face. “What I don’t want is for you to pussy out on me when I figure it out.”He pushes closer then, into Billy, the hard wood behind him digging into the top of his thighs. And then it’s Steve’s hand on his ass, fingers stroking over the bleached denim, finding the dip and cleft, grinding into it, and Steve’s lips on his neck startle a short gasp from him. Fuck. Billy’s mind goes blank as he tries simultaneously to push into the feeling of both things and to not look like such a needy fucking slut. But, god he wants it all so much, and Steve’s hand is only getting more comfortable, exploring every inch of his ass. Jesus. He has to do something about this. Has to think of something fast that will give him back the power here but won’t send Steve running for the hills. “I’m not a pussy,” he breathes instead, though, soft against Steve’s dark blue jacket, and knows he really must be whipped. “Good,” Steve mutters against his neck, and Billy has a feeling that he’s smiling, though he can’t be sure. His hands feel like they’re shaking a bit as he reaches for himself, wants to get his dick out or at least release some of the pressure. But Steve’s hand intervenes, stops him before he can even open the first button. His own hand takes Billy’s place, and tightens around him, just feeling how hard he is through his jeans as he hums into Billy’s neck.Steve takes Billy’s hand and puts it on the desk. His lips slide lower, suck on Billy’s collarbone demonstratively. “Don’t—” Billy has the presence of mind to choke out, even as he angles his neck to give Steve better access. “Don’t leave marks or I— You can’t leave marks.”“Oh?” Steve says absently, and though he keeps kissing Billy’s neck, making him shiver. He isn’t sucking as hard anymore, but then Steve leans in closer, humming, making Billy’s skin tingle, and it’s driving him crazy, the way Steve isn’t even doing anything special, is barely even touching his dick. Billy can’t help the groan that tumbles from his parted lips at that, but what really makes his cheeks burn is the kick his dick gives into Harrington’s palm at that. How close he suddenly is to coming in his own pants.“Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers curling tight around what he can grab of Steve’s jacket. He feels himself teeter on that edge for half a second, sure he’s about to come hard, and then Steve pulls his hand away and readjusts his stance so they’re barely touching.“D’you want me to stop?” Steve’s voice is low next to his ear, feigning concern but probably revelling in how easy it is for him to get Billy this way, and Billy’s heart beats out of time at the thought. A hand comes up behind Steve, pulling him in closer by the swell of his pretty ass. He doesn’t even know what Steve is doing to him right now, what his plans are, but he’s pretty sure that if he stops it now, he’ll spontaneously combust. “Gonna need to hear something,” Steve says, and this time Billy is sure he’s smiling. “I mean, how else do I know you’re enjoying this, huh?” My fucking hard-on not a clear enough sign? Billy wants to say, but then Steve starts working his hand into the back of his pants and the way he grabs Billy’s ass, like he’s just greedy for it, derails his whole train of thought.“Keep— uhh,” Billy breathes, hips jerking reflexively when Steve’s hand digging into the back of his jeans makes them even tighter around his dick. His own fingers dig into the flesh of Steve’s clothed ass on one hand and curl around the edge of the desk on the other. “Keep going or you’re dead, Huh— Harrington.” He’s never had someone go after his neck like this. Unattached to actual sex and not meant to muffle groans, just pure hunger and slow, heady interest in these licks and nips and kisses. Billy never thought he’d be into this kind of almost tenderness, but here he is with his legs parted, panting into Steve’s shoulder while their dicks just barely touch through thick layers of denim. “I need… mmh, I—” he adds desperately, and then, feeling the flush in his cheeks reach his ears, he gives up and heaves out: “Just fucking keep, mmh, touching me. Fuck.”Steve huffs a little laugh against the damp skin of his neck, and the way that makes Billy shudder is fucking unreal. “You’re not very good at asking for things, are you,” Steve says pleasantly, conversationally, every word brushing the rim of Billy’s ear like his lips are caressing him even there. His ears feel so flushed and heated, they’re probably red as a fire engine. Just then not one but two of Steve fingers press against his hole, a hot pressure point that seems to connect straight to his dick. “Fuck,” Billy nearly sobs, feeling his ass tighten around nothing, twitching against the pads of Steve’s fingers like it needs them. And he wants everything at once, so badly that he doesn’t know how to ask. He wants Steve to move up. Keep kissing up his neck until he’s got Billy’s unpierced lobe between his teeth. But he wants him to move lower, too. Worship Billy’s hard-earned muscles, give them the praise they fucking deserve, and make it so he can’t wear any of his usual shirts for a week. And then there’s the part of him that’s aching for King Steve to turn him over and fuck him raw against this desk, make it so he can’t sit on the drive home. So instead he just leans his face into Harrington’s sweet-smelling hair and sinks his teeth into his still-clothed shoulder, back arched and legs spread while he lets Harrington have his fucking way. And then he hears voices, out in the hallway. Footsteps. Chatter. People, coming back from the rally. Fuck, this can’t be-- how long have they been in here?“Mm, shit,” Steve says, in a detached, amused way. And fuck, his teeth are starting to worry Billy’s ear now, as if they have all the time in the world. Billy makes a choked noise, tries to move, but between Steve’s groin pressing against his, the desk pressing against him from behind, Steve’s fingers pressing against his ass, Billy doesn’t have anywhere to go.“Harrington, come on, we gotta get out of— mmh,” he groans and clutches at the front of Steve’s jacket uselessly, not really trying to push him away, as Harrington pushes him down onto the worn surface of the desk. “Somebody’s gonna— Steve, fuck.” The instant Steve gets his mouth on his chest, the fight drains out of Billy and he goes pliant. Outside, the voices get louder as someone that sounds like Tommy fucking H. gets a chant started. Stupid fucking hick… The louder the swell of crowd outside seems to get — and it gets so loud Billy can’t help but feel the whole throng is about to waltz past this table — the calmer and slower Steve seems to be. He is nipping at Billy’s chest, grazing his teeth over Billy’s nipples so unhurriedly it makes Billy want to scream. Steve’s thigh is pressed against his groin now, but slowly grinding into him, just too slow to get any good friction going. “Steve—” Billy starts, but a sharper little bite to his nipples makes him gasp. Then Steve is licking, honest to god, like he’s trying to make up for it. “Would you calm down?” he mumbles against Billy’s chest, the hum of his lips softening the sharp retort that wants to escape Billy any second. “You locked the door, and everybody’s going home, anyway.” He gives Billy’s left pectoral a slow kiss. “We got time.”He pulls Billy’s hand from the front of his jacket. Reaches up to hold both of his hands above his head like they really are playing with handcuffs now, and licks his pretty, soft lips, looking down at him like he’s about to devour him. “Besides,” he says airily, “if we leave now, everyone will see this.” And it’s not till Steve’s hand cups his balls and his throbbing dick through his jeans that Billy realizes he isn’t even holding his hands down anymore, but that he wants to leave them where Steve wants them anyway. He feels restrained under his gaze, and fuck it feels so freeing. So he whimpers a little and rolls his hips and grabs onto the edge of the desk as he murmurs, “then what are you waiting for, King Steve? Put those pretty lips to good use…” He lifts his hips up off the desk a little, into Steve’s hand, and groans when he gives him a harder squeeze for just a second, but Steve doesn’t go any further than that. Doesn’t grind his hand into Billy’s groin, doesn’t even give Billy much to grind against on his own. And his mouth is nowhere near where Billy most wants it now. Instead, Steve interrupts even the languid sucking on Billy’s chest and smiles up at him. If ever Billy had any doubt that Harrington is a cruel bastard, it completely vanishes when Steve actually takes his hand away from his dick. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, waits, prays for it to come back, but no such luck. A bite to his nipple makes him open his eyes again. “Hey, you not even paying attention now?” Steve asks, and Billy would like to punch him. Until he leans in again and sucks, hard. Not on anything in particular, at this point. Billy’s skin feels like a red hot zone of sensation all over anyway.“What else would I be paying attention to?” he breathes out, and he can feel how fucked his voice would be if he dared speak any louder right now, so he doesn’t. Just puts a hand at the back of King Steve’s pretty hair and urges him downwards. “You were being very distracting until just a second ago…”Wrong move, he realizes as soon as Steve ducks out from under his grasp, giving him a stern look. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that, don’t stop,” Billy whines, and at least that makes Steve smile. “You’re pretty when you beg,” he says, and leans in again. Billy wants to bristle at that, he didn’t fucking beg, he doesn’t beg for anyone. But Steve is kissing his chest again, moving up to his neck, feather-light touches, which by now he recognises as the tease they are. If only they didn’t feel so fucking good. “You kinda wrecked me last night,” Steve says almost conversationally against his skin, taking his wrists and putting them back up above his head on the desk like he’s just setting them out of his way, and Billy isn’t quite sure how to respond. You’re welcome? “Uh,” he says, cranes his neck to give Steve better access. “Can still feel you even now.” Every word is like a caress on his skin, and the meaning behind them makes Billy’s cock strain against his jeans. He wants to reach down again, give Harrington’s sore ass a feel, but Steve’s loose grip on his hands has him trapped. “D’you want me to fuck you again, pretty boy?” he asks, but it’s only got about half the swagger he intended when he feels hot breath over the racing pulse in his neck. “You looked so good, all spread out and ready for me,” he goes on, only realizing too late the parallel to what they’re doing now. He should just keep his fucking mouth shut, but Billy’s never been good at doing that. Judging by the huff of laughter against his neck, Steve has made the same connection. “You look good like this, too…” he purrs against Billy’s ear. “And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” Anything, Billy wants to say, but at least he can stop that from escaping. Steve’s hand is still holding down his own, though not even remotely in a way that would stop Billy from moving them if he wanted. And they both know it. Steve’s hand squeezes a little, long fingers threading through his, like they’re fucking sweethearts now. “And here I am without even a drop of olive oil,” Steve sighs against his ear, playing up the regret. Billy really fucking hates him, but that’s not what’s pooling in his gut as Harrington lets one wrist go to slip his long fingers down past Billy’s dick and between his legs.His cock twitches and he can’t hide his reaction to those words. The images swimming in his head now, of being fucked just like this, across the desk his fourth period teacher will be sitting behind tomorrow. “Shame,” he grits out, managing to almost make it sound like he doesn’t regret their lack of lube, but then he thinks of something and smirks. “Of course, you could just eat my ass if you’re that desperate for it,” he suggests. It’s mostly a taunt, but the image of that is a nice one too… And there’s a moment he can feel Steve hesitate, processing the thought. Billy almost holds his breath, and now he wishes he could see Steve’s face. Is he scandalized? Is he considering it? The nanoseconds on Billy’s digital watch tick by and feel like eons. Has he finally managed to scare Steve away? Fuck, he could curse himself and his big fat mouth. But there’s no way to take it back. At least he’s won their game of chicken, or whatever this is. Then he feels Steve’s breath on his neck. A little huff. At least he hasn’t gotten up and left. Yet. “You want me to eat your ass?” Steve’s voice definitely sounds different. Rougher somehow. The image must have done something to him, too. “I might,” Steve says then, a little airily. Like Billy can’t feel the heat rolling off his cheeks against his own skin. Billy squeezes his eyes shut as a wave of fucking want washes over him, and his fingers return to clinging to the desk above his head. He needs it now. Billy feels like he’s gonna die if he doesn’t get something. So he turns his head a little, so he can speak into Steve’s ear nice and low and breathes, “yeah, sure you would, pretty boy…” a taunt he hopes by now Steve won’t be able to resist. “I might,” Steve repeats, his tone a little rebellious now. Atta boy. And then Steve’s hand is back on his ass. The angle is awkward, the desk he’s lying on leaves no wiggle room whatsoever, but with a little maneuvering Steve still manages to squeeze into the back of his jeans and his fingers feel hot on Billy’s skin. “Not here,” Steve says, voice low against Billy’s neck. The little stab of disappointment at that is soon tempered by the way Steve could continue. Not here, but…?Then his finger is at Billy’s asshole, pressing against it, almost inside for the tiniest fraction, and Billy wants to strip off the rest of his clothes and spread out across the desk for him. “I don’t know where this ass has been today,” Steve murmurs into Billy’s neck, giving him a squeeze so that it takes Billy a minute to realize what he’s talking about and flushes darker. “So how about this…” And suddenly he’s leaning up, looking at Billy, brushing his hair out of his face. Billy’s forehead feels sticky, like he’s running a fever. “You stay back after practice on Friday.” In the dim light, Steve’s eyes look huge. Giant black pools staring at him. “Help the coach put away the balls or something.”Balls? Billy has no idea what Steve is talking about, but his dry, hot finger is rubbing against him, almost enough, never enough. “Yeah?” he asks, and closes his eyes when Steve’s finger presses in, almost breaching him, but leaving off again. Then coming back. Tiny movements, dry-fucking him. “You’re the last in the showers,” Steve’s voice tells him. “You’re slow. Gotta make sure everybody’s gone.” “Yeah,” Billy agrees, there’s no other word he can manage now. Even this much is an effort. “You get clean,” Steve says, and now Billy understands where this is going, moans wordlessly, pushes back against Steve’s finger. Steve just continues. “You get yourself clean, and you’re good about it. Gotta be real thorough if I’m gonna fuck you with my tongue, right?”He pauses, and Billy wants to yell at him to go on, not to leave him hanging, please, but he’s working too hard to keep his heavy breaths in check at this point to speak. He just nods and bites his lip and clings to the table a little harder when Steve’s thigh drags between his just right. “Then maybe I’ll get down on my knees and eat you out till you’re wet like a girl,” Steve’s voice breathes against him, softly, and a distant part of Billy’s mind wants to make a jab about Steve clearly being fine with him not being a girl so far, but then Harrington’s lips are back on his skin, and his tongue, and he’s making out with Billy’s neck and shoulder a bit like he’s trying to demonstrate something, which is—Fuck, if he’s this good here…Billy’s heart races in his chest and he feels Steve linger over his pulse like he’s taunting it, hums a little, the cocky shit. But in an instant it’s all hitting him, the last straw toppling his ability to keep it together and Billy comes before either of them have even gotten their jeans open. He rides the aftershocks of it with his eyes pinched shut and a taste of blood in his mouth from where his teeth have broken the skin on his bottom lip. He only vaguely registers Steve pushing up a bit, shifting his thigh to take the pressure off. If the emptiness of the room makes his hard breaths sound far too loud, that’s nothing to Harrington’s muttered, “That’s right, baby.” And the fucking bastard sounds pleased with himself. Billy’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire and he groans, shoving Steve off him at last now that the spell has broken, to survey the damage. “You’re a sadist, y’know that?” he grumbles, glancing up to see the stubborn grin on Harrington’s still-pretty face. “You telling me you didn’t like it?” Steve is all wide-eyed innocence. Innocence my ass. And there’s no way Billy is answering that. Jury’s still out anyway, he tells himself. “I’d love to hang around and return the favor, sweetheart, but I’ve got places to be that aren’t here,” he tells Steve, and quickly does up the buttons of his shirt almost all the way - he’ll have to check himself in a mirror as soon as he can, because it sure feels like all that left a mark. “Good luck with this though,” he sneers, giving Steve a feel through his jeans as he moves to go. “Think of me when you come, won’t you,” he licks his lips, giving Steve another hint of what to think of, and then he’s out the door. Billy glances around the empty halls before he lets out a low groan and checks his watch, turning for the front doors of the school. His head is still swimming with how hard he came, and his wrists feel warm like Steve’s still got a hold on them as he pushes the front door open. The fact that Harrington was able to control him so fucking easy simultaneously sets his skin alight and puts ice in his veins, and all he knows for sure is that he is truly fucked for this boy.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
This is so completely unfair, Steve thinks, staring at his Bio pop quiz results. D minus, and a bitchy Poor, even for you, scrawled on top of it. But how the hell is he supposed to concentrate on capillaries and arteries when real life has been so distracting?And he’s not a complete idiot (no matter what his Bio teacher thinks). He’s been around the block a few times. He knows the key to coming out on top of this is to act like he doesn’t care. But ever since the pep rally, and what he and Billy did instead of the pep rally, Steve hasn’t been able to concentrate on much of anything at all.It’s just so goddamn hard. From the moment he got to school, still more than a little pissed at Billy for leaving him with blue balls after all the work that he’d put in (and really, who does something like that? Only girls, Steve decides, and he’d tell Billy Hargrove that if he wasn’t doing his damndest to blank him). But then there’s Billy, seemingly everywhere he turns. Leaning over the fountain in the hallway to take a drink, sinfully tight jeans hugging his ass, making Steve’s dick perk right up as if he hadn’t beaten off in the shower just that morning. The best thing is to distract himself. He tries to chat up Nancy a bit, but that gets him fucking nowhere. Somehow she manages to never be where he expects her to, and he even tries the fucking library. Between that and Billy Hargrove sucking on his pen in Spanish, Steve thinks he should have gotten some fucking credit just for remembering to show up for the stupid Biology test. “Hey man, tell coach I’m hurling blood or something, alright? Carol wants to go to the Mall,” Tommy says as they head for their lockers, jarring Steve from his misery.And Tommy’s throwaway line makes Steve’s breath catch. Practice. Friday. Showers. “Sure, whatever,” he says through numb lips while his mind is racing. Would Billy do what they had talked about? Wait for him after practice? Then maybe I’ll get down on my knees and eat you out till you’re wet like a girl… Steve shivers. At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to say, the sexy thing to say, after Billy put that completely preposterous thought out there. Now just thinking about it makes Steve feel flushed and a little light-headed. Would Billy do it, though? Would he stay behind in the showers, buck-naked, and wait for him?Of course the moment he heads for the gym that afternoon, he bumps into Nancy. “Steve… I really need your help.”Steve has dreamed of a moment like this, of course. The girl he likes, in some kind of trouble, and him there to the rescue. Help me, Obiwan Kenobi, you’re my only hope. Later on, when he’s saved the day, she’ll fall into his arms and thank him for being her hero. Well. It’s not like he doesn’t want that anymore, but… He cranes his neck and shoots a last longing look towards the gym. Hey, I’d really love to help, but I’ve got to get to basketball practice. That wouldn’t fly. Only an asshole would say that. But not half an hour later, when he has found out that helping Nancy somehow involves also picking up Barb, and then driving somewhere into the godforsaken woods to meet up with Jonathan Byers, then finding out they’re looking for the lost Byers kid, and when Nancy looks at him with wide eyes when he tries to hint that this isn’t quite what he’d had in mind, really… it’s at that time that Steve thinks maybe pretending not to be an asshole has been a stupid idea. He clearly is an asshole, because he honestly wishes Byers would just go wherever the hell his little brother ended up at, and take Barb right with him. At least when they split into pairs, he manages to snag Nancy before Barb or Byers can sidle up to her. But she doesn’t show any interest in taking a couple of minutes to mack against a tree when he suggests it. Instead, her mouth goes really small and she frowns at him. “Steve, come on. We’re here to help Jonathan.”“Funny, I thought I was here to help you,” he mutters to himself, kicking at some leaves lying around brown and useless. “You know they had a search party organized the other day? But hey, we’re bound to have more luck than them.” Nancy doesn’t answer him, just raises her eyebrows at him and silently reminds him that he’s a jerk. He tries not to think of the fact that basketball practice must be over right about now. They don’t find a single thing, of course. And when they double back towards the others and Barb says she has to go home now for some reason or other, Steve is so relieved he could kiss her. “Okay, I’ll drop you off,” he agrees quickly. If they drop off Barb first, he can take Nancy home. Work his magic on her a bit. Finally make this day not a total bust. But Nancy insists on staying. “We still need to look for…” And she exchanges a glance with Jonathan like they both know something he doesn’t, and what the hell? When did he become the third wheel in this?But to his fucking credit, he doesn’t make a scene. Just goes terse and quiet-like, so she’ll know how much she’s hurting his feelings. And gives her a kiss on the cheek to show Byers what’s what. “Take care, Nance.” And with a last dark look at Byers, he’s out of there. Dumps Barb at her house, and they don’t really speak much at all on the way, which is fine with him. But afterwards he feels restless, fidgety. What is he gonna do now? It’s no use going back to school, Basketball has been done for at least half an hour. No way Billy would have stayed this long after. I could just go by his place, see if he’s there. And why the hell not? Not like he’s gonna ring the doorbell or anything. But there’s really nothing else going on. So he might as well.It’s only once he reaches Briar Lane that Steve realizes he doesn’t actually know the address, but he’s only beating himself up for half a second before he spots the flash of blue Camaro parked out front of one of the houses and knows he’s found it anyway. Steve almost convinces himself that this is too weird, that he should leave after all, but then a blond head looks up from around the car and he realizes Billy’s out there with it, tinkering. Shit. He looks really good too, in a tank-top that hides almost nothing, and with grease on his hands. Steve parks across the street and gets out of his car, pulling a cigarette out as he does because something about seeing Billy like this makes him crave one.Billy glances up at him again and now that they’re a little closer Steve can see the disapproval on his face. He almost looks like Nancy like that. Steve refrains from telling him.“You gonna come share that, then, or what?” Billy drawls over at him, and Steve takes a second to register what he’s talking about, but then he glances down at the cigarette in his hand. He pushes himself off the car and walks over, not too fast, not too eager. Not the way he wants to. Takes one more drag and holds it out to Billy. Fuck, but he’s looking even better up close, even with that scowl on his face. “Car trouble?” he asks, for lack of anything better to say. Well, despite the obvious. Are you alone? I’m sorry for earlier. Wanna suck my dick a bit?Billy smirks a little through the cigarette between his lips. “This look like trouble to you, King Steve?” he asks, gesturing back to the car. It’s all a jumble of metal and grease to Steve, so he shrugs.“Guess not?”Billy snorts and carefully hands back the cigarette with what looks like his only clean fingers. “Changing the oil, pretty boy,” he says. “You never changed your oil before?”“Sure,” Steve shrugs, smiles when Billy’s eyebrows shoot up. “It’s when you call the service station and hand them the keys, and drive your mom’s car for a day.”Billy snorts, but there’s half a smile there, too. Good. “Speaking of moms,” Steve tries with an innocent face. “Are your folks in, or…”Billy’s eyebrow quirks and Steve can tell he’s trying to get his scowl back, but it’s not quite working as well as it was before. He feels a thrill at that. A voice at the back of his mind starts on a see, Nancy, this is how you… track, but he shuts that down fast.“Matter of fact, they aren’t,” Billy admits, closing up the thing he had open and giving it all one last look before he pulls the hood shut again too. “And the brat is off on some quest or whatever with her new friends,” he says, and glances back up at Steve through his lashes. Fuck, he looks good when he does that. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever met anybody with prettier eyes, even when they are looking at him like he’s gonna have to work for it.“So we’re out here all alone, huh?” he continues casually, like the whole possibility of doing stuff isn’t enough to make his dick start to get a little fatter already. Not that they can do much out here (though for a moment he imagines kissing Billy against the side of the Camaro, right now, kiss the surprise and scowl off it, kiss him until he gasps for breath and his eyes look at Steve like they did in the classroom a couple of days ago, wide and kind of delighted). “Are they gonna be back in a while, or really soon?” he asks, and just to push Billy a little, because he’s still just standing there, not even asking Steve in or anything yet, just to nudge him into action a bit, he adds, “Time enough to take off some clothes? Or should we keep them on?”Billy’s surprised laugh is almost as good as a kiss would be right now, even as he shakes his head and mutters something like presumptuous.“Come on in, asshole,” Billy says, snatching the cigarette back and turning towards the house. “And you can remind me why I put up with you at all.”Put up with? Steve feels mildly irritated at that as he follows Billy inside through the kitchen door. Isn’t he the one who puts up with Billy and his strange ways of insinuating himself into Steve’s life? And what about that time Billy left him alone at school with his dick aching in his pants?“You got that all wrong,” he says lightly, a little distracted by the interior of the house. It’s still got moving boxes standing in the corners, and doesn’t really look anything like what Steve would have expected. Billy doesn’t appear to be even listening, he’s making a bee-line to for the kitchen. “Beer?”“Sure,” Steve shrugs, and stands behind Billy to see what’s in his fridge. And maybe to be a bit closer to him. See if the cold air makes his nipples hard underneath that thin shirt. It does. And Steve’s hand on his hip makes Billy huff a little in surprise and grind his ass back against him. “My room’s just down that way,” he says when he turns to hand Steve a cold beer. Finally. Steve cracks open his beer and drinks, doing his best not to look too smug. At last, Billy seems to be getting with the program. “Cool,” he says with a shrug and starts walking towards it, casual as anything. Walking in front of Billy to give him a good view of his finest qualities. Remind me why I put up with you, my ass.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“It’s the first door on the—” “This one?” Steve smirks back at him and goes on in without waiting. Billy mutters under his breath and finishes his own beer before following. It isn’t that he isn’t glad to see Harrington, doesn’t want to get him in his bed and do all sorts of things to him, he does. But it’s also not like this asshole hadn’t got his hopes up for the shower at school that day and then missed practice entirely — to hang out with Wheeler, even, if what he’d heard was right. But when he rounds the corner into his room, Steve is standing in front of his closet, staring at the picture tacked to it, hands on his hips. He looks over his shoulder at Billy, eyebrows raised. “Nice place you got here.” And Billy can’t help but huff a bit of a laugh. He’s being stupid. Steve obviously still wants to hang out, even if it’s after the princess got the first go. And that’s what matters, after all. What is Billy, some soft-hearted chick, pining after a committed relationship with King Steve? No. This is just a recurring fling. They don’t owe each other anything.Billy smirks and comes up behind him. “You gotta strip more, if you wanna do it right,” he urges, hands on Harrington’s hips. Steve turns to face him, eyebrows raised. “I don’t own a bikini,” he says lightly. “More into skinny dipping, me.” Billy smirks and slips his hands forward to work on Steve’s fly. He shoves Steve’s jeans half down his thighs as soon as he gets them open. “Shame,” he says, reaching around to palm his ass just to spite him when Steve’s hips tilt like he’s only here to help Billy get his hands on his dick again. “You’d look good with a little string thing barely covering all of this,” he ponders. Steve smiles, butts his head against Billy’s lightly. “You been breathing in too much of that motor oil? Or you just think I’d look good in anything?” He glances to the side and Billy follows his gaze, sees the two of them in his mirror. “Can’t really blame you…” Billy smirks and turns them a little so Steve can see his own ass, tugging on the fabric of his underwear so that it clings to the curve. “What do you think, pretty boy?” he teases a little, right by Steve’s ear. “You enjoying that view?”He palms Steve’s already hardening dick with his other hand, answering for him. Without even taking his eyes off of them in the mirror, Steve reaches under Billy’s shirt, gropes his chest, gracelessly, greedily. Billy leans into the touch without meaning to. “Mmmh,” Steve hums, and the Steve in the mirror shoots Billy a wink. “I bet you spend a lot of time staring into this thing.”Billy smirks and uses the mirror to fix Steve’s hair a little. He finds a bit of leaf in the back of it and tries not to get insanely jealous at the fact that apparently he and Wheeler are doing shit in the woods like animals now. “Enough that my old man calls me a fag for it,” he says laughing a little at the irony as his breath ghosts over Steve’s soft skin. “He has no idea how right he is.”He doesn’t realize until he glances up to Steve’s eyes that maybe what he just said was a little more horrible and personal than he meant it to be, as Harrington frowns up at him like he’s about to say he’s sorry or some shit. But Billy rolls his eyes and leans in again to give Steve’s neck a little bite. “Come on, let's do something before we die of old age,” he nudges, pulling Steve a little toward the bed. But Harrington won’t budge. “Let’s do it here,” he says, and turns a bit, fully facing the mirror with Billy behind him. Pulls Billy’s arms around his waist. Pushes Billy’s hand towards his crotch, pushes into it, as if he needs convincing. Bumps his cotton-clad ass against Billy’s groin, slow smile on his face. “I wanna see you.”Billy forces a laugh, but his “Jesus, Harrington, really?” comes out a little more breathless than intended. Steve’s ass feels amazing even just like this, and he looks fucking delectable with his pants pooled hastily around his knees. “Really,” Mirror-Steve smirks at him, then groans softly when Billy’s hand squeezes him just a bit. “You got any olive oil lying around, or…”Billy hums and buries his smile against Steve’s shoulder. “Oh sweetheart,” he purrs teasingly. “You’re in my house now. And I’ve got the good shit.”He turns Steve’s chin to make him look at the jumble of bottles on his vanity. “White tube behind the hairsprays,” he says, and nudges him forward. It suddenly feels cold without Steve so close to him, but Billy uses the time Steve fumbles around among the bottles and tubes to pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the ground. Steve looks over his shoulder for a moment and his gaze is pretty damn appreciative, Billy isn’t imagining that. He flexes a little, but Steve only snorts and turns back to his quest. Billy has opened his belt and is unbuttoning his jeans when he is back, with the tube in his hand like a prize. “The good shit, huh?” he asks, pushing it into Billy’s hand. “I’ll be the judge of that…” Billy takes the tube and turns Steve back around in front of him to finish getting his jeans off and press up against that pretty ass again. “Yeah you will,” he purrs against Steve’s ear, watching them together appreciatively as he starts to tug Steve’s jacket out of the way and lift up his shirt, impatient and hungry. Steve jumps a little when Billy gives up on that and pushes his Calvins down to go straight for the goods, cupping his balls and running a thumb down the crease of his ass. But he pushes back eagerly enough when Billy draws back to fumble open the tube to slick up his fingers. “Fuck,” he curses at the first touch of Billy’s wet finger, seeking Billy’s eyes in the mirror. “Cold.” Billy smirks and takes Steve’s earlobe between his teeth in his meanest approximation of a kiss before pressing just the tip of a finger inside.“It’ll warm up,” he dismisses, even as he coats his fingers a little more thoroughly, rubbing it between them to warm it himself before he returns his hand to Steve’s skin. “Take this shit off,” he directs, nosing at Steve’s still covered shoulder, and meets his eyes in the mirror again to smirk, “I wanna see you,” he says.“Dick,” Steve mutters, but he reaches down and pulls his shirt over his head. It seems almost like he’s forgotten how, the way he fumbles and gets lost in it and takes forever. Of course, Billy’s finger, pushing in deeper, may have something to do with that. Afterwards though, Steve’s long naked back is stretched before him, scattered with dark little dots. Billy desperately wants to lick every single one. But the look Steve shoots him in the mirror, a little amused and a lot impatient, reminds him to get a move on. He slicks up his fingers a little more and adds a second one to the mix, using his free hand on the small of Steve’s back to push him down a little, giving him more access.“Don’t touch the crate, Harrington,” he says quickly, remembering just in time. Steve’s hands fly up from where they were about to come down on his makeshift vanity, and he shoots Billy a disgruntled look in the mirror. “Whole thing will come crashing down if you do that. Trust me. Go for the wall if you need support.” He curls his fingers deeper inside in search of Steve’s prostate and grins when he obviously hits the mark.“And plant your damn feet,” he advises, nudging Steve’s legs open a little wider with his own. Their hair tickles each other, standing against each other like this, but he leaves their legs touching anyway. For stability.“Stop being such a pushy bastard already,” Steve grouses, frowning and going a little slack when Billy pushes in deeper, stretches him more thoroughly. Billy’s eyes are glued to his every expression. Hell yeah, the mirror was a great idea. “Stop being such a touchy bitch,” he gives back, and ghosts his lips over the side of Steve’s neck. It sends a shiver and a wave of gooseflesh all over Steve’s chest. Billy makes a note of it, in case he gets a chance to dedicate some time to it later. Now, Steve is pushing back at him impatiently. “Fuck you, asshole,” he growls, and Billy smiles. “Getting there, baby. Don’t worry,” he promises with a twist of his fingers. “Gonna fill your pretty ass with my cock and make you come till you can’t see straight.” He pulls out and lubes up again and slowly teases a third finger around Steve’s rim, watching it twitch for him with a hum. “So eager for me already. Think you can take another one?”Steve snorts, and by the easy way Billy’s finger pushes in it’s clear that he’s not just trying to be a trooper about it. Steve leans forward a bit, trying to widen his stance, but his pants around his ankles hamper his movements. He wobbles a bit, steadies himself on the wall and pushes back at Billy just as Billy pushes in deeper. The Steve in the mirror bites his lip, eyes fluttering shut, and Billy wishes he could do this for hours. Just work Steve’s ass until he comes, and watch his face in the mirror. But his own cock is demanding attention now, throbbing between his legs, sending shivers down his spine whenever it brushes against the soft, warm skin of Steve’s ass or his thigh. So Billy picks up the pace a little, keeping an eye on the mirror all the while as he works his fingers apart inside of Steve, opening him up just a little bit more. Steve glances up at him after a little while of this though, and then it’s just a matter of seconds before Billy’s pulling out again, slicking up his cock, and pushing in with a low groan.“Fuck,” Steve moans, arching his back and knocking some bottles down in his haste to steady himself against the closet door. But his eyes in the mirror soon find Billy’s, searching him out, smiling a little wildly, proudly, at what he must see in Billy’s face. “Give a guy some warning next time,” he mumbles, but Billy could tell even without the mirror that Steve definitely doesn’t mind that much. Billy rolls his hips a little, staying almost fully inside Steve before he pulls out a bit and experiments with a few quick, shallow thrusts. His eyes dart up again from Steve’s pretty ass to the reflection of his face when every thrust punches a breathy moan from his parted lips. He looks amazing. Pleasure-drunk in Billy’s arms, his cock standing out obscenely, hard and needy against his pretty, pale skin.“You were made for this, weren’t you, Stevie,” Billy tries and fails to tease. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”Steve doesn’t answer him, at least not in so many words, but the way he moans and bends to try and get the angle just right, the way he whimpers when Billy accidentally pulls out completely, and the way he pushes back against Billy, impatient, almost growling when Billy doesn’t manage to push in again right away, fumbles to get some more lube while he’s at it — all of that tells Billy that Steve is far too busy enjoying himself right now to listen to what Billy is saying. Maybe it’s better that way. He might just let slip something actually embarrassing. But Billy wants to hear Steve, perversely wants to break him out of that haze and make him say something. So, he slows down, pulls Steve up against him. And Steve lets him, watches them both in the mirror as Billy rakes his hand over Steve’s body, smooth and lithe. He almost sounds a bit drunk when he tells Billy, “Bet you’re gonna think of this next time you look in this mirror.”Billy chuckles against his ear and nods. “Yeah, baby, gonna think of this a lot,” he agrees, and pushes in deeper with a jolt that has Steve sighing like he’s just about to cry. “How does that feel, huh?” He holds Steve up against his chest with one hand and uses the other to trail from mole to mole across his perfect skin.“You want me to tell you how good your dick feels?” Steve gives back with a snort of laughter. “You vain asshole…” He’s looking down at the mirror now, looking at Billy’s arm holding him up. Touches the biceps, a little admiringly, and Billy flexes again to see if it’ll make Steve smile. It does. “Yeah, feels alright,” Steve says with a shrug, and then laughs when Billy pinches his side. “Okay, okay… feels pretty fuckin’ great…” “Yeah?” Billy murmurs into Steve’s thick hair, rocking against him, watching their bodies in the mirror, unable to look away. Steve’s muscles tighten around him deliberately and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, yeah…” he agrees, and he doesn’t mean to -- his lips just sort of drag across the skin of his neck and his shoulder when he goes to push Steve forward again -- but it feels like a kiss and it sets his lips tingling until he presses them against the planes of Harrington’s back again. He breathes in the smell of him, all citrusy and edible from shampoo and whatever other pretty boy products he uses, and groans as he pulls almost all the way out and fucks right back in.“Yeah, you feel fucking great,” Steve mutters, and he’s watching Billy’s face now, he can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he reaches down and holds Steve’s hips with both hands, pulls him closer the same time he snaps his hips forward with a slap. The sharp connect makes them groan together. “So fucking hot,” Billy growls as he picks up the pace, fucking into Steve’s pretty, greedy ass, watching himself disappear between those cheeks. He groans and glances up at the mirror again, and then he’s turning them to the side. It’s fast enough that Steve nearly loses his balance, but Billy’s arm is there, keeping him steady. He turns Steve’s face back toward the mirror and purrs in his ear, “Look at that. Look at us.”And Steve looks, all the way from where Billy’s arm is holding him, down to where they’re joined, and Billy can’t really see much of his cock even from this angle, not the way he’d like to, the curve of Steve’s cheek hides most of it even as he pulls out more slowly and deliberately, but Steve is still looking at them like he can see it just fine, Billy’s cock in his ass, marking him, making him his own. “You look so good like this,” Billy says, watching them in the mirror, watching himself push in just a little harder, just to make Steve’s breath hitch. “Wrapped around my cock,” he says again and grabs a handful of Steve’s ass in either hand, spreading him, nails digging in. The way Steve twitches and tenses around him at the touch nearly makes him lose it, and he bites his lip, clamps down on the welling feeling of helplessness. He hadn’t realised he was so far gone yet. “That’s fucking nasty,” Steve gives back with a huff of a laugh, but he doesn’t move away from him. In fact, he tightens a bit, and meets his eyes in the mirror with a soft moan when Billy’s next thrust hits home.And Billy digs into Steve’s hips with his trimmed short nails, opens his mouth to bite something back, but then Steve squeezes around his cock and Billy’s losing it. Nearly doubling over on top of Steve’s naked back and grunting like he just got kicked in the balls because it feels like they’re being emptied out completely into Steve Harrington’s perfect ass. He manages to not take them both down to the ground with his weight, but just barely. And as the last shocks of his orgasm roll through him, Billy groans and presses his open mouth to Harrington’s sloped shoulder, holding him close by his belly and chest as his thrusts slow down and get wetter and wetter. “Jesus christ,” Billy mumbles when sensation finally returns to his limbs, swallowing hard. He’s still inside Steve, though if he moved much now he wouldn’t be, and it’s simultaneously the nastiest and hottest fucking thing he’s ever done but he wants to stay put until Steve shoves him off. It takes longer than he would have thought before Steve squirms in his grasp, huffs. “Come on,” he says, and Billy can hear the frustration in his voice, a little whine. When he doesn’t react right away, Steve squeezes around him once more, and, fuck. Billy can feel a little wetness dribble down towards his balls. He can’t tell if Steve noticed, but maybe Steve is too distracted by his raging hard cock. He grabs Steve’s hand just as he is reaching for it. “Hm-mm,” Billy shakes his head, replacing Steve’s hand with his own. He can feel him react to it reflexively, and his other hand clings to Steve’s hip to keep them close as he watches over his shoulder, jacking him off with the lube he used before to open him up.And Steve is watching him too, watching with rapt attention, mouth slightly open, moaning when Billy picks up the pace a bit, stops going for finesse. “Fuck,” Steve moans, and Billy can feel him start to tremble, has to work harder at holding them both upright. Steve pushes back against him, like he’s trying to get some more of Billy’s cock, now really hopelessly soft, squeezes again just as Billy starts to slip out. Billy hums, imagines the mess this boy’s ass must be now, wishes he could have stayed hard for this. He jacks him off harder to make up for it.“Fucking gorgeous,” Billy mutters over his shoulder, and he brings his free hand up from Harrington’s hip to his chest. “Come on, baby, come,” he coaxes, swirling precome with his thumb before he returns to hurried strokes. “Mmmh, Billy,” Steve starts to say something, but then his breath stutters and he just moans, comes over Billy’s hand in thick spurts, some of it even hits the glass of the mirror, paints their combined picture and Billy watches it all, every tiny twitch on Steve’s face, his mouth, half open, the way his eyes almost close, but not quite. “Yeah,” he says smugly, keeps stroking Steve’s cock through it all, until Steve moans and jerks away from him, forward, and Billy’s cock slips out of his ass with a truly obscene sound. Billy can tell the moment Steve’s haze of lust is penetrated by way he frowns, looks around like he’s forgotten where he is. “What…” he asks, and half-turns around to him, frowning still. “Did the condom break?” Now Billy’s frowning. “No, of course not. It’s just—” but then he’s glancing down at his own dick and there’s definitely not a condom there. At all. Did I not… “Shit. I must’ve forgot to…” Billy flushes up to his ears. This is fucking embarrassing if nothing else. And now Steve’s gonna hate him. Shit. Steve snorts. “You dick.” But he doesn’t move away, sways a bit on his feet, and his cock gives one last valiant spurt. Groaning, Steve pulls away a bit and turns, Billy’s hands slipping off him. But he doesn’t leave, just stretches a bit, makes a face at what Billy can only guess is more come dripping out of him. He chances a look over Steve’s shoulder at the mirror, and yeah, just the sight of Steve’s ass makes his own dick twitch, spent as he is. “Sorry,” he says, trying to sound contrite. But honestly, seeing his come leak out of Steve’s ass is worth it. “Yeah, yeah,” Steve snorts. “You got anywhere I can clean up a bit?” Billy considers just going all in on that. My tongue, a part of him really wants to say, but he holds back. Be cool. Don’t get too eager. Leave him wanting more. “Bathroom’s just down the hall,” he points. When Steve winces a bit as he bends to pick up his stuff, Billy can’t be sure if it’s from the enthusiastic fucking or just the remnants. But he doesn’t look spooked, or disgusted, or even like he minds very much. That has to count for something. Billy reconsiders eating the come out of Steve’s ass, and then reconsiders again. He flops onto his half-made bed and reaches up to put on some music. It’s Sabbath, quiet from last night when he fell asleep to it, and it drowns out the doubts enough that Billy can take a minute to just breathe and look at the spot on his mirror where Steve’s come is still dripping slowly down.It looks real good there. Makes Billy daydream a bit about Steve, bent over the sink in his bathroom and sticking fingers into his come-filled ass. His mouth tingles a little. Feels restless. “Fuckin hell,” Billy turns over and glances at his watch, then pulls out a cigarette. He’s lighting it when Harrington shuffles back into the room, unfortunately clothed but still looking a little flushed and ruffled. Adorable, part of Billy’s mind provides. Like he just got fucked another part agrees. “So, that was…” Steve starts and just trails off, smiling. Billy blows out a puff of smoke and smirks. “Yeah.” Steve looks into the mirror like they didn’t just fuck in front of it and fusses with his hair, pops his collar. “So... I was thinking,” he starts, very casually. “We should go grab a burger or something. We must have burned off a fuck-ton of calories…” Billy snorts. Because that’s funny, but also because oh we could burn a whole lot more, pretty boy. But when Steve glances back at him hopefully he looks away. Ashes his cigarette into a half-finished glass of water from this morning. “Sorry, sweetheart, no can do,” he says. “Got shit to do. Responsibilities.” He leaves it at that, and reaches over to grab his underwear from the floor. His jeans follow, inextricably linked by the hasty way he shrugged them off earlier. He glances up at Steve as he stands, and for a second he’s actually taken aback. Harrington looks disappointed. Like, really disappointed. What the fuck? Billy thinks about changing his mind after all, but instead he laughs it off and turns back to his stubborn jeans. “What, you’re not starting to like my personality, are you, Harrington?” he jokes. Because honestly. The guy’s just probably still high on his orgasm. No way he actually wants to hang out. And if he does, Billy will fuck that up quick enough, whatever happens. He doesn’t have a personality that people want to hang out with, and he definitely doesn’t have a personality that people want to fuck. “Guess not,” Steve says lamely. For a moment it feels like he has read Billy’s mind, until he realizes Steve is just answering his question. He’s reaching down, tying his shoes, his lips pressed together into a thin line. “Guess I’ll just let myself out, then.”“Yeah, see ya.” Billy doesn’t look up, but he can feel Steve linger by the door, like he still wants to say something. Or maybe he’s waiting for Billy to do it. Or maybe Billy’s just imagining things. Because a minute later Billy hears the front door shut and glances up to see Steve gone. Billy takes a long drag and flops back onto the mattress.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Billy doesn’t really have shit to do when Steve leaves, but by the time his dad gets home that night he’s got a plateful of it.“I’m gonna need you to lend a hand this weekend,” Neil says when before he even sees Billy, and he knows what that means before Neil finishes his thought. “Get that weatherproofing done before the snow starts sticking to the ground.”“Yes, sir,” Billy mutters, because he knows better than to pick a fight over something like that, and then he waits a couple seconds to make sure Neil is done before returning to his bedroom.When his bitch step-sister adds to the joys of his weekend over dinner, Billy sees that coming too.“Can I go to Mike Wheeler’s tomorrow?” she asks, completely oblivious to what this means for Billy’s Saturday afternoon.“Who’s Mike Wheeler?” Neil frowns at her, frowns at Susan, frowns at fucking Billy like it’s his fault Max made a goddamn friend or something.“Some guy from my class,” Max shrugs. “He’s got a… cousin visiting from… Europe, and since he’s a stupid boy he doesn’t know how to deal with girls, you know, he asked me to come help… keep her entertained. You know?”Now it’s Billy’s turn to frown at Max, though he does it subtler. Susan and Neil are both looking at her too now, so they don’t even notice. Nor do they seem to notice that she’s a terrible fucking liar. They share a glance, Neil shrugs and grunts and returns to his pasta salad, and Susan hums that that sounds like a fine thing to do.Billy narrowly avoids a snort, but he’s expert level at this shit by now, so he does.“Billy, you can take her over there. Make sure you talk to the parents. I wanna know she’s not going to be surrounded by psychotics,” Neil says, and the margin by which Billy resists reacting becomes significantly smaller. “You can come back here after and help with the house until she’s ready to come home.”“Alright,” Billy grunts.That muscle in Neil’s jaw twitches as he fixes his stare on Billy for a second, but apparently his food is too distracting to keep him angry at the lack of respect for long. As soon as he looks away, Billy throws a glare Max’s way.She returns it with a stuck out tongue.The next morning the brat comes to him, halfway through his goddamn workout, and tells him that it’s time. Right now. Fantastic. Of course, once they get into the car she’s all for stopping at Bradley’s. “I need something to entertain Elle with, obviously,” she says, throwing her door open the minute they park.“Jesus Christ.” Billy would normally just stay in his car while she went in, but today he can’t afford any hiccups and he’s hoping she’ll hurry up and pick something so he can get back home for a few more reps or at least a shower before Neil ruins the rest of his day.He follows her for half a second, but then he glances up at the counter and remembers he’s almost out of cigarettes.“Marlboro reds, two packs,” he tells the lady at the cash register, and he can’t even be bothered to smile convincingly when she frowns at him, probably wondering how old he is. “They’re for my dad,” he lies through gritted teeth.“Well, that’s a relief. Those things are nasty,” says a voice behind him, and Billy turns on his heel with a biting remark on his tongue as soon as he gets the cigarettes and his change.“Harrington,” he nods, only looking Steve over for a second before his eyes dash nervously over the aisles for a hint of flaming hair. “What’re you doing so far from your castle at this hour?” he asks.Steve shrugs. “Just felt the desperate need for some light shopping, I guess.” He looks good. Relaxed, and actually pleased to see Billy.“So you know, since I ran into you and all,” and something about the way Steve says that makes Billy wonder if it was actually a coincidence. Did Steve see his car or something? Surely he doesn’t need to go out and buy groceries, they probably got a maid to shop for them, or some shit.His attention snaps back to Steve, who’s actually kept right on talking. “… so I thought, since I already got two tickets, you wanna give it a go?”Billy’s stomach drops, and his eyes dart back to the aisles. He can see Max now, but she’s still a good distance away. And it’s not like they’re doing anything. Just talking. God, when did he become so paranoid?“Uh yeah,” he says lamely, and tries to think if he has any idea what Steve actually just asked him to. Tickets for what exactly? Whatever it is, Billy knows better than to accept. He doesn’t do dates, anyway. Just like he doesn’t do kissing. They’re the little rules Billy’s had in place since forever, to keep himself out of trouble. To keep himself from getting overly attached. And this… whatever this is? This is definitely a date. Just the way Steve is standing right now says it’s a date. So, “Sorry, man, not really my scene,” he says, spouting the first excuse that comes to mind.“Your scene?” Steve laughs, like he doesn’t really believe what he’s hearing. “It’s just a movie, man, I thought…” And then his face changes, and Billy can see the exact moment when he catches on to the fact that he has been turned down. Steve actually physically takes a step back, and Billy feels a tiny little bit of relief at that, because Max could come back any second. This is Steve, from school, he rehearses in his head. But the little brat is nowhere to be seen. Where has she gotten off to?“Yeah, ok,” Steve says, and his voice has gone a little flat. He shrugs and smiles. It could probably fool someone who’s never met him before. “That’s cool. Just thought I’d ask.”Max comes around the corner with an armful of fucking candy, and Billy growls under his breath. Technically, Billy’s never been told it’s his job to keep her from poisoning herself on junk food, but Billy knows it’s liable to become his business in a heartbeat if his dad found out somehow, and he doesn’t want any inch of that.“Yeah, I’ll see you at school, right, pretty boy?” Billy tosses back at him, more than a little distracted, and he hardly has a chance to register the look on Harrington’s face before he’s marching over to chew the brat out. One thing. All the rest goes back. Got it?The next time he turns around, Steve is gone.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Listen, man. I know she’s real cute and all that, but it’s time to let it go. This is getting embarrassing.” Steve looks up from the little hill he has been building out of mashed potatoes. Frowns at Tommy. “What the hell are you talking about?”“Nancy Wheeler, and the way you’re moping while she’s gone off with that Byers freak of all people?” “Christine saw them shopping at the hardware store the other day,” Carol chimes in helpfully. “God, can you imagine? Whips and chains? I mean, everyone knows Byers is a weirdo, but little Miss Princess?” “Bet she’s the one with the whip,” Tommy laughs, and Steve kicks him under the table almost by rote. “Don’t talk about her that way, for fuck’s sake.” “Alright, alright. Anyway, time to move on, man. There’s way hotter fish in the sea.” Tommy wiggles his eyebrows and cackles when Carol smacks his arm. Those two are seriously getting on Steve’s nerves. “Whatever,” he mutters, and pushes his tray away. He isn’t feeling very hungry anyway. There isn’t much left of the school day after that and he’s managed to almost completely keep out of Billy’s way, not really feeling like dealing with his whole thing today, not after he went out on a limb this weekend and Billy iced him out like nobody’s business. But now there’s practice to go to. And Steve can’t very well skip that, after already ditching on Friday. Not if he wants the coach to put him up for the game against Northern next month. It’s just a game, he tells himself. Not like Billy’s gonna try and start something with the whole team around. That thought consoles him a bit while he trudges to the gym after his last class to get changed. He’s so wrong though. And he knows it the second he gets into the locker room. Billy’s there, at the locker right next to his, already shirtless, and from the way his eyes slide over to Steve he can already tell it’s gonna be a long hour.He doesn’t even have to say anything. Steve just sees his lips quirk up a little, his tongue flash over his lips, and he knows exactly what Billy’s thinking. Knows it so easy he feels a bit like Billy’s shouting his interest to the damn room. All “hot damn, guys, isn’t Harrington a hot piece of ass?” And usually Steve doesn’t mind looks like that. Usually he appreciates them. But right now, from this particular asshole…And it doesn’t help that Billy gets even cockier on the court, that they’re put onto the same team for practice, and that Billy keeps passing to him or yelling for his attention, or patting his back when he lands a good one, all net. There’s just no getting away from the guy. Time seems to stretch like chewing gum until finally, finally the coach’s whistle calls them together for a final huddle. Billy is next to him despite Steve’s best efforts, and his arm burns hot around Steve’s shoulders. He shakes it off as soon as they are dismissed and hurries to the locker rooms, thinking that maybe he can avoid showering with Billy at least, because Billy’s hanging back, helping the coach put the basketballs away or some shit. Somehow that niggles at the back of his mind while he soaps up under the shower, replies to Tommy’s gleeful ribbing without even registering what they’re talking about. Billy isn’t usually one to volunteer for stuff like that, so why… Billy comes into the showers just as Steve’s going out, and he shoots him just one quick glance, but all of a sudden Steve knows exactly what Billy is playing at. Fucking hell. While he dries off and starts to get dressed, Billy stays in the showers. Steve drags it out for as long as he possibly can. Watches all the other guys leave, one by one. Waves off when Tommy asks, “Burgers at Benny’s?” Takes an eternity to fuss with his hair in the mirror, wet as it is, but the showers are still running. Billy is still in there. Come on man, Steve tries to telepath through to him with every second that passes. It ain’t happening. Get the fuck out of there. But Billy isn’t coming, and Steve knows he has two options. Just leave and let Billy turn himself into a prune, or go in there and tell him that he isn’t fucking up to servicing him today. The first one is oh so tempting. But no. He’s not a fucking coward. Steve throws his comb back into his bag with a huff and walks over to the showers. A cloud of steam envelops him as soon as he steps inside. The floor is wet, and only one shower is running, the one farthest away from the door. As expected, Billy stands under the stream of it, his skin bright from the heat of the water and his hair a mess of wet curls that seems somehow longer now that it’s soaked through. He turns around and sure enough, runs that tongue of his over his lips as soon as he sees Steve standing there.“Forget something?” he says innocently, but the way he’s standing is anything but innocent and Steve can see that he’s already half-hard. Jesus.“Just came in to check you weren’t drowning yourself in here,” Steve gives back. His feet walk him closer to Billy a little. He has to, unless he wants to shout over the hiss of the shower. But he stays well out of the range of the direct spray. “You know you don’t have to do that? Your layups aren’t that shitty.”“What, drown myself?” Billy snorts. “That’s cute, Harrington, I’d have said the same thing for you, except you didn’t even land one today so I guess if you wanna use my shower head…” he steps away from it like he’s giving Steve room, but what he’s actually doing is putting his dick in full view now and… when the hell did Steve start to think of dicks as even capable of looking pretty?Steve swallows. Shakes his head. “Not today,” he says. Billy probably still expects him to get to his knees and eat him out. Like a girl. Like he promised. Fuck that, he thinks. Fuck Billy and the way he looks fucking gorgeous right now, all wet and glowing from the hot water. Fuck him and his fucking pretty cock. “Not in the mood.” Billy’s eyes are unreadable as he licks his lips again.“Just as well. Like you better alive anyway,” he says, apparently completely missing what Steve was actually talking about. “Did you lock the door?”No, I didn’t lock the fucking door, because I’m not staying, Steve should say. But he finds it hard to actually make the words come out of his mouth, because Billy really does look good enough to eat, standing there in a cloud of more steam than he thought these showers were capable of… For fuck’s sake. He’s only fucking human. He turns on his heels and makes for the door. The lock turns easily, with a loud click. Billy’s a little closer when he turns around, but he stops short of actually reaching out to undress Steve himself in a show of such gentlemanliness that Steve wants to roll his eyes, especially when Billy’s eyes drop to his dick and he says all quiet and commanding: “Strip.”The hairs on the back of Steve’s neck raise up and he has to smile. It is on. He reaches for his belt and unbuckles it, opens the button of his jeans but doesn’t pull down the zipper. “Why don’t you remind me why the fuck I put up with you first?” he suggests.Billy’s brow quirks like he’s trying to figure out if Steve’s being serious behind his smirk, like he’s really not sure if he did something to offend. Which, fair, Billy’s always doing something to offend. Steve realizes it must be hard to keep track of who’s mad at him sometimes. He only seems to wonder for a moment though, because then he’s reaching out and running a thick thumb over the shape of Steve in his pants, and giving him a squeeze, making his dick twitch to life almost painfully. When he lets go, Steve’s got a wet handprint on his jeans. And then Billy’s backing up a step and glancing back up at his face with a grin.“Come on in and I’ll show you,” he offers.It’s enough to make Steve get out of his clothes at breakneck speed, paying no attention to where his clothes land on the shiny, wet tile as he follows Billy. Their bodies press together, cocks brushing, and Billy’s body feels like a fucking furnace from the shower. Steve can’t help but groan a little. And when Billy’s tongue traces up the side of his neck he shivers and gives in to him wholly.“I wanna suck you off,” Billy purrs against his ear, and Steve’s dick fattens up against his slick skin, hips kicking forward.“Well, I’m not gonna stop you,” he says a little gruffly, trying at least to sound like he could take that offer or leave it, and not like he’s gonna die if Billy isn’t on his knees and sucking him down in the next five seconds. Billy smirks against his skin and breathes, “I’d like to see you try,” hot against his ear like it’s a threat. Steve hardly has time to wonder why his body seems to think it’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said, before Billy’s dropping to the wet floor in front of him and Steve kind of can’t believe his eyes because Billy is really, actually mouthing at his dick in the middle of the place where they shower with the rest of the team three times a damn week. Licking his head and taking him into his mouth like he’s some kind of delicacy, in that way that only he does.He looks down at Billy, so quiet with Steve’s cock stuffing his mouth, but not really quiet even then. Just making little noises, little moans, like sucking him off like that feels just as good for him as it does for Steve. “You’re such a dick,” Steve tells him softly, almost drowned out by the hiss and gurgle of the water around them. Billy probably can’t even hear him. He touches the side of Billy’s face, carefully cards his fingers through the wet hair, smoothing it a little. “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy. And I bet you’re enjoying it, too.” Billy doesn’t reply, but he does go harder, making it so Steve’s reverie is cut short as a rush of blood leaves his brain for somewhere further south. Steve groans when Billy takes all of him in and sucks hard around him, looking up like somehow he’s grinning through it all.“Fuck,” Steve moans, staring down like his life depends on it, like somehow it’ll all go away if he closes his eyes. He wobbles on his feet a bit, has to reach back and grab the shower for balance, wishes they’d had the foresight to do this against a wall. Plant your feet, he can hear Billy’s voice in his head, and even there, he’s grinning at Steve. Billy’s hands come up to grab onto his ass, steady him a little, but he doesn’t stop or slow down or come up for air at all. Instead he closes his eyes, focusing or just enjoying himself, and takes Steve’s dick as deep as it will go.Steve can’t help the moan that escapes his lips, or the fact that one hand curls into the wet, matted strands of Billy’s hair.“Gonna come,” he murmurs, warning as he feels it in his balls.Billy looks up at him, raising one eyebrow at him. He doesn’t even have to say a word. Steve can hear his voice well enough in his mind. Go on then, pretty boy. I want you to. And it feels like mere seconds have passed since they started this, but Steve is beyond feeling any shame for this kind of rush, it’s Billy who’s pushing him to it, Billy who’s to blame, or maybe Billy who deserves the praise, because when Steve finally comes, it’s hard enough to make his knees buckle. He manages to stay upright, barely, and only temporarily. After a moment of trying to keep his balance he gracelessly drops to one knee on the floor. Too much effort. He lets himself slide down onto the tiles, welcomes their cool, hard reality. When he looks up to catch Billy’s eyes, Billy looks so damn smug. Steve very much wants to kiss him. “Come ‘ere,” he murmurs, tugging him closer, and Billy actually does. But when their faces near, he pulls back a little. Right, Steve sighs internally, not a kisser. But that doesn’t mean his mouth has to be left with nothing to do…“D’you remember what we said we’d meet in here for?” he asks softly, bypassing Billy’s lips for his ear. “Do you remember what I said I’d do?”He licks a little just under Billy’s ear, and Billy huffs a breath against his shoulder. “Course I do,” he rasps, sounding a bit like he’s trying for conversational. And failing. “Not an idiot.”Steve hums, and pulls him closer, reaching a hand out for Billy’s shower-slick ass. “Do you still want it?” he asks, feeling kind of high. There’s a pause, in which Steve imagines he can feel just how hard Billy’s trying not to sound too eager. True enough, Billy shrugs, like he can’t be bothered to give a damn. Bullshit, Steve thinks, smiling against Billy’s damp neck. “Well, if it’s all the same to you,” Steve murmurs, but his hand is still on Billy’s ass, and when he runs his fingers closer, gets nearer to the shallow dip between his cheeks, Billy actually shudders against him, just a moment before he has himself under control again.Then he’s muttering, “Do it,” like he wants it to sound like a dare more than a request.Steve bites a little at his neck for that. “Then turn around,” he suggests. And Billy hesitates, but only for a second before he’s glancing around and getting to his feet. “Not doing this on the fucking floor,” he gripes, and pulls Steve up with him. And he does it so well. Stretches his shoulders a bit and then leans into the metal column of the shower, sticking his ass out expectantly. Steve leans in, kisses the side of Billy’s neck. Billy’s hair tickles his nose, and when he sneezes, Billy jumps a bit, mutters, “jesus,” and Steve has to stifle a laugh. It feels like the tension leaves his shoulders a little then. He leans in closer, touches the smooth skin of Billy’s back. Moves his hands down to Billy’s hips, to give his cheeks a squeeze. Billy rolls his hips a little into the touch, and lowers himself down to his forearms on the little metal soap shelf on the pole. “Come on, baby, show me what you got,” he says, and something about that… the way he says it… makes Steve want to do just that. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, more to himself than to Billy, and starts to kneel down. The water from above is no more than lukewarm now, but it cascades down Billy’s back, streams over those muscles, down to his waist, over the ass Billy is still sticking out helpfully, hopefully. Steve puts his hands on Billy’s ass, feels him flex under his touch. Has to smile. Show-off. He leans in and gives one cheek a bit of a bite. Just barely holds himself back from sucking in a mark, recalling Billy’s aversion to them before, and instead hums against the skin as he moves a little closer to his target. It’s strange. Oddly familiar after all his time spent on his knees going down on girls, and yet completely different. And not just in terms of anatomy. The way Billy’s standing, nearly vibrating with this nervous energy like he thinks Steve’s about to turn around and make fun of him for thinking he’d do this, the way Steve gets the feeling he’s barely even breathing up there…Steve massages the flesh of his ass and his thighs as he moves lower down that crease with his lips and his tongue. And that seems to help, just a little. Billy slumps back into a more natural stance, pushing into Steve’s face after a moment, and lets out a shuddering sigh when Steve’s tongue finally darts over the pucker of his hole. The muscles are tight around his tongue, but oh so responsive as he begins to move. He concentrates on going deep, imagines he is fucking Billy, not just with his tongue but with his fingers, with his dick, and that Billy wants him to, is asking him for it without so many words. That visual makes it a hell of a lot easier. Billy’s thighs can’t seem to figure out whether they want to spread or suffocate him, shaking a little bit under Steve’s hands, but Steve keeps a good hold on them and stays firmly between. The taste of it is like nothing Steve’s ever put his mouth on before, and while he had expected to be grossed out a little, he has to concentrate on the whole thing far too much to give a lot of thought to that.Steve hums a little and buries his face deeper, grinning in what little way he can when Billy chokes out a quiet moan and a, “fuck.”That’s not enough, though, Steve decides, doing his best to work his tongue without cramping, to give Billy all of it. He wants more of Billy’s sounds for that. Wants to make it so good Billy gets loud, so good Billy can’t help it, even if they are in the middle of the open showers, and the situation couldn’t possibly be misread if anyone saw them. Billy dropped his soap and I helped him pick it up — not gonna cut it here. So Steve does his best to make it worth it and make Billy lose it. He leans back a little as he comes up for air, the soft spray of the shower cooling his hot face, and runs his finger over Billy’s hole, where his tongue just was. Dry-presses against it, smiles when that makes it twitch, and leans back in, licking over his finger and Billy’s skin, pleased with how it makes it easier to push his tongue in deeper, just a tad. “Jesus,” Billy hisses, but he’s not pulling away. Not even a little bit. As Steve works on picking up a rhythm with his tongue and lips and fingers, Billy presses back into him like he just can’t get enough.“Mmm, yeah, fuck me,” Billy sighs then, just loud enough to hear, natural as breathing, and Steve’s breath catches.He pulls away, letting his thumb take over for a moment, pressing into that outer ring of muscle softly as he hums against the warm skin of Billy’s cheek.“Yeah?” he presses, “you want that?” He licks a wet stripe up the length of Billy’s crack and appreciates the shiver that causes. “Want me to bend you over right here?”He knows they’re just playing, is saying it mostly to get a rise out of Billy, but, fuck. Just having said it, now that it’s out there, he wants it, badly. “If I thought you were up to it,” is Billy’s gruff reply, sounding vaguely annoyed that Steve turned this into a conversation all of a sudden. Steve grins, and gives Billy’s left cheek a fond squeeze. “That a promise?” he mutters, letting his lips touch the soft rim of Billy’s hole with every word. “I’d take you up on it if we had some kind of lube here.”Just talking like that makes Billy twitch and shiver, and Steve wishes he could talk and stick his tongue up Billy’s ass at the same time. Make Billy weak with lust. Maybe then he actually would let Steve fuck him. Better check if there’s a blue moon out tonight, Harrington. Steve licks a wet path over Billy’s hole, eliciting a groan and a curse when he presses in shallowly with a finger.“Yeah, bet you would,” Billy breathes, but he shifts a little to lean deeper into his stance and narrowly holds back from a whimper when Steve’s free hand trails down over his thigh.“I’d fuck you so good,” Steve agrees, kissing the swell of his cheek. “Make you come without even touching your dick…”He licks back in, deep as his tongue will go, and lets one hand slip down to give Billy’s weeping cock an appreciative feel. Billy’s hips jerk at that and he gasps a moan, his head hanging between his jutting shoulders.“Yeah, you fucking could, couldn’t you,” he mumbles, his voice gone all pleasure-drunk, as Steve puts his mouth back to work. “You know how to use all that, don’t you, King Steve,” he hums, and Steve’s tired cock perks up just a little like it knows someone’s talking about it.He hums agreement, and licks deeper.“You’d tear me apart with that thick dick, wouldn’t you,” Billy stutters dreamily between heavy breaths, punctuating it with a moan. Steve can see his toes curling on the wet tile and feel his thighs starting to shake where he holds them.“I’d fuck you till you couldn’t stand up straight,” he purrs, and glances up toward Billy’s hidden face to check if he’s on the right track, only to be met with the sight of every muscle in Billy’s slick back pulling tight as he shivers and moans.“Fuck, gonna come,” Billy mumbles only half a second before Steve feels thick spunk dribble over his fingers, wrapped around Billy’s cock to stroke him through it. Steve groans at the feeling and buries his face between Billy’s cheeks one last time as Billy’s release allows him to finally realize how blindingly hard all this talk has made him again.When Billy’s legs threaten to give out at last, twitching and pulling him away from Steve’s determined tongue, Steve just lays back on the cool, wet tile and starfishes out, closing his eyes with a groan.Billy, somewhat surprisingly, joins him only a second later.“Can’t believe you got hard again from just that,” he murmurs against Steve’s ear, the first hint of his proximity besides the heat his body radiates against Steve’s chest.A hand wraps around his dick, and Steve opens his eyes reflexively, gasping at the sight. Billy leaning over him, almost close enough to kiss, cheeks pink and lips wet and swollen from holding back moans with his teeth, the gross shower lighting giving him a kind of fluorescent halo. There are tiny droplets of water stuck on his eyelashes.“Were you into it that much, baby?” he teases, hand moving slow and rough over Steve’s throbbing cock. “Need to come again already?”Steve groans and closes his eyes again, nods hopefully, and grins when he hears the cap open on something. Somebody’s discarded shampoo, probably.When Billy’s hand returns to his dick then, it’s slick and cool and feels better than any handjob has a right to fucking feel. Steve can’t hold back a breathy moan at that.“Fuck,” he sighs, rutting up into that pressure. He’s already stupidly close to that edge again, and it’s only been seconds that Billy’s been touching him. He feels like a live wire, reaches for Billy’s shoulders blindly to steady himself. Bring them close. Touch him anywhere he fucking can, while he can.“You’re so fucking hot, Billy, why’re you so hot…” he’s mumbling now, and Billy lets the drag of his fingers move him down a little bit, so that when Steve opens his eyes again they’re definitely kissing distance. So it’d be so easy… but then Billy glances down, something flashing in his eyes for just a second, and pulls back before Steve can make his move. Before he can bring their lips together.The hand on Steve’s dick tightens just right then and he’s jerking up, coming all over them both with a soft, desperate sigh.Billy strokes him through it, watching every second like he’s saving it for later, while Steve watches Billy’s face. Wants to kiss him so much. Wants to crash through whatever stupid barrier Billy seems to have on that, like that one thing would make this serious. And then the door handle rattles.They freeze for a second, Billy’s hand still touching Steve, still covered in soap and come, and then they hear the muttered, ‘Damn door…’ from the other side. Retreating footsteps. And they jump to action. Or, Billy jumps to action. Standing, rinsing himself off, glancing back at where Steve’s still slowly getting up and hissing out, “You trying to get caught?” like he’s the one who gave reciprocity an extra round.Steve turns on another shower just to rinse off in his own spray. They make it to the locker room door at around the same time.“I’ll go out first…” Billy is whispering, and Steve’s annoyed to find that that urge to press their lips together is just as strong now as it was on the floor. He shakes his head like that’ll clear it, and pushes the door open wide, ignoring Billy’s protests. If one of them is gonna get caught, it might as well be both of them.Billy huffs behind him, but doesn’t hesitate to grab his shit from his locker and get half-dressed in double time. Steve’s half afraid one of them will fall, but he’s not immune to the fear that Coach will come back before they’re gone, so he hurries too.He follows Billy out the door onto the blacktop just seconds behind and running to catch up, and Billy had been playing it safe, walking like he leaves the gym almost an hour late all the time, but when he spots Steve suddenly he’s running, too.By the time they make it to their cars it’s become a race and they thud against the side of Steve’s Beemer laughing through heavy breaths, Billy giving Steve the lightest of shoves and grinning enough to make Steve’s skin feel like it’s on fire.“Owe me a rematch,” he jokes, and Steve grins back.“You’re on.”They’re so close.Billy’s lips look even better in real daylight, tinged a little with the cold and exertion.Steve can’t help but lean in a bit, and Billy doesn’t feel like he’s backing away this time.Until he does.“I’ll see you around, pretty boy,” he says, and twists away, reaches out to brush a hand over the shape of Steve’s still-sensitive dick through his damp jeans, making Steve bite his lip before he saunters off towards his own car. And Steve feels stupidly disappointed. Stupid because he feels disappointed in the first place. “Okay, fine,” he says through numb lips, but Billy isn’t looking back, probably didn’t even hear him. This is fucking stupid. Why the fuck do I even still try to make this something it’s not? He doesn’t feel like moving, watches Billy start his car with a violent howl and peel out of the lot. It’s not until the dust settles that he remembers to leave, too.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The fact that Billy’s already itching for more of Steve’s skin against his by afternoon of the next day definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that his dreams and his waking thoughts alike have been filled with the sensation of hot, wet tongue and a craving for feeling oh so full. Fucked not just on Harrington’s tongue, but on his fingers and his thick cock.It isn’t that at all. But he is burning up with the need to get Steve alone again, nonetheless. Just something quick, he tells himself as he scribbles a quick note at the end of lunch period and shoves it into Harrington’s locker thoughtlessly:
Football bleachers, after school -B
Then all he has to do is wait, and regret, and feel like a needy bitch for even writing the note, getting more tortured the longer it seems to go unnoticed. He’d already given too much away in the showers the day before, made such a fool of himself, but now here he goes, doing it all again. Billy tells himself he’s going to ditch the rest of school four separate times before, between sixth and seventh period, he finally spots Steve opening his damn locker and reading the note. Harrington frowns as he reads it, and crumples it up. That may just be due to Tommy H. standing next to him, yammering on about something Billy can’t hear. But Steve looks up and glances over at him, just for a second. And he doesn’t shake his head or anything like he’s got other plans. Max is going over to the Wheelers’ again, sanctioned by the parental units, a fucking welcome respite in being the little bitch’s personal driver, so Billy can go for the bleachers directly after the bell rings. But once he’s there, balancing on the railings and smoking one cigarette after another, time stretches and there’s no Steve. Fuck. He doesn’t have forever to wait. His dad and Susan don’t come home until late, but if he’s not done with his chores by then, there’ll be hell to pay. What the fuck is keeping Harrington away? Maybe he got wise, a voice in his mind whispers. He quickly pushes it aside. Then a bit of movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention, and his heart misses a step. It’s Steve, making his way through the steel construction towards him, hands deep in his pockets. “Hey,” he says once Steve is close enough to hear him. “Thank fucking god, I’ve been freezing my ass off here.” Now that Steve’s coming closer he can see the frown on his face, the grim set of his mouth. “Hey.”Billy raises an eyebrow and lifts a leg to loop around the back of Harrington’s calf, pulling him closer. “Bad day, pretty boy?” he asks, doing his best to make it seem like a taunt rather than the actual concern and curiosity he’s feeling.Steve lets himself be dragged closer, and Billy grabs two handfuls of his ass with a smile. “I know just the thing to take the edge off,” he suggests. There’s no smile like he’d hoped for, but Steve doesn’t object to being pulled closer still. He looks over his shoulder. “Bit public out here,” he says, frowning. “Anyone could walk in on us.” “I wanted to see you,” Billy shrugs, and finally he gets a look from Harrington, a little smile that makes his heart rate speed up. “I’ll make it quick,” he promises, and then the frown is back again. “So what you got in mind?” Steve tries to back off a little, but Billy’s hands on his ass don’t let him go far. “Gonna fuck against the railings?” He doesn’t sound too excited by the thought. Maybe because it’s gotten colder now that the sun’s going down.“Maybe,” he shrugs. “Or maybe I just want your mouth on me.” Billy licks his lips and gets another hint of a smile. Harrington stops leaning back so much, and now Billy’s the one that has to put space between them so that he can bring Steve’s hand down to the bulge of his dick, starting to fill out in his jeans. Steve stares down at their joined hands, and the way Billy grinds against them. And after a pause, he starts to move his own hand, squeezes at Billy’s hardening dick. Reaches for the button on Billy’s jeans. But just when Billy is about to relax and lean back a little, enjoy what’s coming, Steve takes his hand away. “You know, I’m really not— let’s just not do this today, alright?” And now Billy’s properly confused. He groans a little at the back of his throat and watches Steve’s hand go. “What— why not? What’re you talking about?” “I’m talking about this,” Steve huffs and gestures between them. “Whatever the fuck this is. I don’t, this isn’t… I’m not a fucking machine you can switch on or off, okay?” Billy laughs until he realizes Harrington is apparently being serious, and then he comes down off the railing and frowns.“Seemed like you were getting plenty out of it yesterday,” he says. “Don’t remember any complaints when I had this shoved half down my throat.” Billy steps forward and gives Steve a squeeze through the front of his pants. “That the problem? You wanna go first? Cause I’m not against that,” he smirks a little. Not against that is a bit of an understatement.But Steve isn’t biting, isn’t even pushing back at him a little. “Is this all you want, then?” he asks, hips shying away when Billy tries to put a little more effort into it. “Is this… okay, I get it. But it’s not what I want.” Now Billy’s just insulted. You don’t want my mouth on your cock? He pulls back too and gives Harrington a once-over, wondering when the hell things changed.“What the hell do you want, then?” he asks with a lot less power than he meant to do.“I don’t know!” Steve gives back testily, running a hand through his hair. “Just not this, not just this. For fuck’s sake…” “What the fuck does that mean?” Billy throws back, mind swimming with images of Princess Nancy Wheeler, perfectly satisfying Steve’s every need. “Just this? What the hell am I doing that’s not good enough for King Steve, huh?”Steve’s eyes turn darker than before. “Right, because this has all been for my benefit,” he sneers. “Not because you were looking for someone to get off with and I was the first one to bite.” Billy feels his cheeks flush, which is just great. Exactly what he needs right now. He gives Harrington a shove to distract from that, though, and holds his arms out wide.“So what if I was? Can’t be the first time somebody’s just wanted to fuck you without all this emotional bullshit. What makes you so high and mighty anyway? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing with Wheeler?”“Don’t you bring her into this,” Steve snaps at him, and it raises Billy’s hackles like nothing else. He knows Steve would never defend him like this, if the shoe was on the other foot. “Your little princess wasn’t putting out, so I was pretty convenient in the meantime, huh?” he sneers at Steve, and feels a flash of pride at the way Steve’s ears turn red. “I can guarantee you got the better end of the deal, sweetheart.” “Yeah, I bet I should be grateful,” Steve mutters, kicking at the dirt at their feet. “You can’t even talk to me like a normal person in public, but as long as we both get our kicks, who cares, right?” Billy feels completely thrown, but he refuses to show it. Refuses to back down.“So that’s what you want from me? Small-talk? Sorry I’d rather suck your dick than talk about the fucking weather. Didn’t realize I was being so selfish,” he growls out. “Man, what the hell’d you even show up for if you’re just gonna complain? If I’d known you were on the rag I wouldn’t have left you that fucking note in the first place.”Steve scoffs, a hollow little laugh. He shakes his head, opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again. It seems like he has to work around something in his throat to get actual words out. “Yeah,” he says in the end, and his voice sounds hoarse. “Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t have fucking come. Stupid idea.” And just like that, he turns around and stalks off in long, hurried strides.Billy watches him go, shoulders slumping as he leans back against the cold metal of the bleachers, and sucks on his cigarette. “What the fuck just happened…?” he mutters through the exhale, and then he shakes his head hard and snatches his bag up from the ground to go. “Stupid fucking idea…” he growls. Because it has been. Chasing after King Steve had always been a stupidly long shot, and Billy must be an idiot for thinking it could’ve ended any other way.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It’s better this way. Steve is sure of it. That thing with Billy wasn’t ever gonna go anywhere, anyway. He’s glad it ended like this. Fucking glad.That’s what he keeps telling himself on the way home, because, fuck. It’s got to stick after a while, right? “Shit,” he mutters when he turns into his own driveway, and the house is dark, his parents’ cars nowhere to be seen. “Fuck.” The last thing he wants to do now is be home alone right now, where it’s empty and quiet. Without getting out of his car he turns around and heads back into town. Maybe Tommy and Carol are hanging out at the burger shack or something. He can’t find them there, though, and they’re not at the Dairy Queen either, and the Hawk is already closing down. All day every day, those two are usually dogging his heels, but the one time he feels like he could actually use some fucking company… Nancy, he thinks wildly. Remembers climbing up the roof and into the soft pastels of her room. It’s a school night, Nancy will definitely be home. Studying something or other. Getting a full 9 hours of sleep. The thought of just going to her place and doing something idiotic like helping her study for Math or something fills him with a desperate kind of longing. There is nobody more unlike Billy than her. And he’s had enough of Billy for the rest of time.He parks in his usual spot in the bend of the road and gets out, careful not to slam the door. There’s a light on up in Nancy’s window and he quickly passes over the lawn, quiet like a ninja. But when he makes it to the window, about to knock and be let in, he sees that Nancy isn’t alone. She isn’t even facing the window. Nancy is sitting on her bed, and the guy with her, an arm around her shoulders, is Jonathan fucking Byers. For fuck’s sake. He makes a hasty move and Nancy sees him, maybe just from the corner of her eyes. He can see her startled yelp, the way she stuffs her hand into her mouth not to actually scream. Jonathan looks over at him, wide-eyed. That dick. After a beat, long enough to have Steve wonder if they’re just gonna fucking leave him there on the roof and go back to what they were doing, Jonathan slinks over to the window and slides it open. “Steve,” he says in that quiet, annoying way of his. “What are you doing here?” “What the fuck do you mean, what am I doing here?” Steve hisses, and climbs inside, nearly stumbling over the fucking window seat. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, man--” “It’s not what it looks like,” Jonathan says, and at least now he has the grace to look just a little guilty. “What, you’re gonna tell me you’re just here to study?” Steve snaps, and turns around to Nancy, to pass on some more of his righteous wrath. But he stops short in his tracks. Nancy looks like shit. White as a ghost, and dirty, and like she’s actually trembling? What the hell? “Nancy?” he asks, worriedly, and walks over to her, tries to take her hand, but she recoils. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, what… what’s the matter, are you okay?”And then she bursts into tears. Steve swallows, digs in his pockets for a tissue or something, anything, but comes up empty. He can feel Jonathan crossing over to them, and kneeling down beside her as well. “Nance?” he prompts. “I’m fine,” she says thickly. “It’s just…” She shakes her head and swallows, more tears rolling down her cheeks. Jonathan reaches out to touch her hand, and this time she takes it, grips it hard, judging by the way he winces. Steve tries his best not to feel jealous. At least she’s reaching out to somebody. He shoots a sideways look at Jonathan. “What the hell happened, man?” Jonathan glances over at Nancy, and she looks up at him, shrugs. Another time, Steve would have been almost insulted by that kind of ringing endorsement. “We’ve been looking for my brother,” Jonathan says, and Steve can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “In the woods. We found… something. It went for Nancy.” She shivers then, and both of them look at her, worried. “I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” she mutters and pushes herself off the bed, out of the room. Once he and Jonathan are alone, Steve fully realizes just how out of place he is. He sighs, sits down on Nancy’s bed. Has no clue what to do. “Listen,” he says to Jonathan after an eternity of silence, feels the words stick in his throat. “I didn’t mean to make trouble… I mean, I guess it’s not even my fucking business anymore, is it?” At least Jonathan doesn’t pretend he doesn’t know what Steve is talking about. He just shrugs. Steve sighs again. Why the hell does everything in his life get turned to shit lately? “I just want her to be okay,” he says. “And if there’s any way I can help--” He’s interrupted by Nancy coming back in. The three of them stand in her room for a moment, in awkward silence. Steve is the first to speak. “Feeling better?” Nancy doesn’t look much different, except wetter and less dirty, but her eyes are clear at least. She nods. “Yeah.” “I guess I’ll go home now?” He poses it as a question, though he isn’t quite sure why. It’s not like Nancy’s gonna ask him to stay. Stop being so goddamn selfish, he tells himself. And waits for Jonathan to say he’s gonna come with. Let the girl get some sleep. But the silence stretches, and now Steve’s just starting to feel dumb. “Alright then. You take care, okay?”Nancy looks at him and shoots him a little smile, and he feels a little better. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll be fine.” This time when he takes her hand, she doesn’t flinch. He squeezes it and smiles at her before he makes for the window. Okay, so the Jonathan thing seems pretty firmly in place, he muses while he climbs down. The two of them don’t even pretend like he isn’t gonna spend the night with Nancy. It pangs him less than he would have thought, actually. Though it would have been nice to get a heads-up or something.He’s nearly to the edge of the last bit of roof when he sees a glimpse headlights pull up in front of the house and crouches. He knows that car. A midnight-blue Camaro. And sure enough, Billy Hargrove gets out of it. What the hell? Steve freezes in place and watches Billy walk to the Wheelers’ front door, ring the bell. All the while he expects Billy to look up, see him there. Surely he must hear Steve’s breathing? See him outlined in the faint light of Nancy’s window? But nothing happens. Billy doesn’t look. Half a minute later he leaves with a red-headed girl in tow, who Steve thinks must be his little sister. He barely dares to move a muscle until the Camaro has pulled out of the driveway and the sound of the motor has vanished in the distance. “Fuck tonight,” he mutters to himself and climbs down shakily, ready to finally go home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Billy gets a better look at the car on his way back home, Max in his passenger seat all suspiciously quiet -- not that he cares -- and confirms it. It’s Steve’s BMW. Exactly one block down from the Wheelers’. He picks up speed without really thinking about it, and grimaces. Of course he went back to her. They’re fucking perfect for each other, aren’t they? He rolls his window down for the fresh air or whatever and skids a little as he stops to let Max out.“I’m gonna go study with the Zimmerman brothers,” he says, and Max looks like she’s gonna protest, how come I have to come home? so he revs the engine and points. “Get the fuck out, Maxine.”Obviously he doesn’t go study. Instead he drives around for a bit then drops by the old junkyard on the edge of town and lets off some steam. He finds a crowbar near the gate and lays into window panes and tires and old, splintered wardrobes alike, grunting out curse words and muttered bits of fucking pretty boy, needy bullshit, and Nancy goddamn Wheeler! He ends up getting home just before curfew because by now it’s fucking instinct, but he doesn’t sleep until a handful of hours before school starts.The next few days are just like that. Steve seems to be entirely oblivious of his existence, and Billy goes through the motions. Does what he’s supposed to do except when he doesn’t, and spends every waking moment feeling bitter and deprived and sorry for himself. On Thursday he gets a flyer in his locker for a super secret quarry kegger that’s also apparently an annual tradition, and immediately crumples it up and shoves it into the depths of his school bag, but by Friday afternoon, Billy’s pulling the stupid thing out again and unfolding it. In Memory of Will Byers is written across the top in pen like the party had already been planned before that kid’s body had been found there and these assholes are trying to make their party seem less like the insensitive bullshit it is. But Billy needs a fucking drink either way, after a week like this, and what the hell do I care about some kid I never met, he wonders. I’ll pour one out for him when I get there.So he gets dressed up, fixes his hair, his cologne. Making the effort because he might as well look good at least, even if his emotions are still out of whack and his knuckles are sore from taking it all out on the sparring mats at school. He gets to the quarry around the time most of the people there are starting to get comfortably drunk, and glances around at the assembled high schoolers, looking for somewhere he can get something to get him caught up. A punch bowl or a six-pack or… a keg. Billy groans internally as he spots Harrington up on the thing, swallowing mouthfuls of beer like it’s his fucking job, and he considers leaving, but he can’t even look away. Steve looks so good like that. By the time he comes down for air, Eric Zimmerman has spotted him and Billy’s “friends” are coaxing him to go over and beat King Steve’s new record.“I don’t really feel like-- nah, I mean, I was just thinkin’ about stealing some beer and going out on the lake, y’know, I don’t--” But then Steve’s on his feet again, more or less, and their eyes meet across the keg, and suddenly Billy really fucking wants to beat him. “Yeah, alright. Hold this for me,” he growls.There’s a lot of whoops around him, probably more than there should be at a kegger in somewhere as echoing as the quarry, but who’s Billy to tell these hicks that. One Zimmerman takes his jacket for him, the other holds his legs, and then he takes the tap between his lips. And he gives it his all, nearly feels like he‘s drowning in beer by the end of it, but the crowd counts down for him and he manages to hold out just a little longer, just long enough, and is back on his feet, triumphantly dripping beer and spit. “Yeah! That’s how you do it, Hawkins!” “Eat it, Harrington,” one of the Zimmermans crows gleefully next to him and he scans the crowd for Steve, wants to see his face. But Steve isn’t there anymore. Billy looks around, tries to make out Steve in the shadows, because, fuck, what use is winning and grinding Steve’s record to dust if Steve doesn’t even see it?He wanders around the party grounds after that with a beer in his hand, trying not to be too obvious about looking for Steve, but his disappointment grows and grows the longer he’s at it. Steve must have gone home. Left the party as soon as he saw Billy was there. Fuck. Billy doesn’t feel like celebrating after that. Doesn’t even drink much more than that one beer. He looks at all the other kids at the party and hates each and every one of them for not being Steve. But he’s not ready to go home yet, however shitty this party has turned out to be. The open air out here isn’t the worst thing ever, even if it could never hold a candle to California. So Billy heads down to the rocky beach a little, towards a dock he hadn’t seen before where old men probably meet on weekends to pretend there are actually fish in this polluted-ass lake.It isn’t till he’s actually setting foot on the thing that he realizes there’s somebody else out here already. Not a handsy couple either, but none other than Steve Harrington. Alone.Billy thinks about turning back around, but Steve glances up then and spots him, and it all reminds him too keenly of that first night at a party not too unlike this one. You look pretty out here in the moonlight, Harrington, he’d said then, and it’s still true now, even if Steve looks a good bit more wasted now. Billy doesn’t realize he’s just standing there until Steve looks down, checking his pockets clumsily, and frowns.“D’you have a cigarette?” he asks. He looks back up and the flimsy plastic crown on his head shifts dangerously to the side, just barely holding on. He shoves it back up and scrutinizes Billy. “You always have a cigarette. C’mon, don’t hold out on me.” Billy can’t help feeling something like affection for what a demanding brat Harrington apparently becomes when he’s drunk, and steps further onto the little pier to comply.“I’ll give you one if you share some of whatever you snuck out here to get shitfaced on,” he offers as he gets nearer, because there’s no way Harrington got this wrecked in the past hour just off that keg stand, and he was a bit wobbly when Billy arrived, but nothing like this.Steve shrugs. “Knock yourself out, man.” He shifts on the wooden planks. Makes room for Billy to sit next to him. Only, when Billy lights a cigarette and hands it over, he picks up the hip flask next to him only to find it bone dry. Billy tsks and shakes the thing at him disapprovingly.“Fuckin’ liar,” he complains.“Am not,” Steve frowns back. “Here,” and he snatches the flask from Billy, tipping his head back to get the last drop. Letting out an undignified yelp when he almost topples. He loses the crown, but manages to right himself in time at least. Billy grabs the crown for him, but when Steve reaches for it Billy smirks and places it on his own head.“You missed the big event, King Steve,” he teases, and pulls out another cigarette for himself.“Big event?” Steve blinks, and then grins. “Oh, you kicked me off the throne, huh? Go figure.” The cigarette dangling from his lips, he squints at Billy, then reaches up to the crown, but not to take it, as Billy first suspects. He just touches it, makes it sit less crooked, perhaps. “Looks good on you.” And Billy doesn’t really have anything to say to that. His mouth just goes a little dry and he has to remind himself of his rules. Why they’re in place. How Harrington definitely isn’t worth breaking them over, no matter how much this already fucking hurts, if he admits it, before they’ve kissed or gone out or held fucking hands. No matter how… fucking sweet… he’s looking right now.Steve exhales a little and tugs the cigarette from his parted lips, and just then the wind changes or something and Harrington is all Billy can smell. His cologne, his whisky, his fucking skin, whatever… “Fuck it,” Billy grumbles, and Steve gives him a questioning look, but then their mouths are pressed together.And it’s rough, it’s dry, it’s the chastest, quickest kiss Billy’s ever given someone, but his heart is pounding out of his goddamn chest when he pulls back. He feels like he’s dying. He stares out at the lake and hopes Steve will say something, but he’s… not. It’s complete silence to Billy’s right, and Billy is quickly sliding from anxious to angry, about to fucking leave, when he glances over to see Harrington leaning over the edge of the pier a bit, clinging to a piling to keep from falling in. Billy reaches out and pulls him back before he even thinks.“What the fuck are you doing, Harrington?” he growls, and Steve lets himself be pulled. Closes his eyes for a moment.“Think I’m drunk,” he mumbles, sounding honestly a bit surprised, like he just figured that one out. “Need to lay down… somewhere…”So, not trying to kill himself cause I kiss that bad… That’s something at least… Billy tries to kid himself. But what the fuck is he supposed to do about this? Harrington has friends, back at the party, and he’s not one of them. Not by any fucking definition. And yet as Steve leans against his shoulder…“Yeah, pretty boy, you’re fuckin’ drunk. Come on, I’ll get you home,” he says, struggling to get them both carefully to their feet.He ends up having to put his arm around Steve’s waist just to keep him standing upright, and even that is hard work. Drunk Steve is all long, gangly limbs and not a shred of balance. And no regard for personal space either, judging by the way he nuzzles into Billy’s neck. “Don’t wanna go home,” he says when Billy tries to steer them both off the jetty without anyone falling into the water. That shit looks cold. “Nobody there…” He seems to turn into a dead weight in Billy’s grip all of a sudden. “C’mon, work with me a little here,” Billy grunts, tries to steady him, but Steve just frowns and shakes his head. “‘S too quiet at home…” he mutters.And before Billy can think better of it, he’s easily replying, “I’ll stay there with you, pretty boy. Make it nice and loud for you,” like a total idiot. Like an absolute asshole who has no sense of decency or self-control.Steve seems to like the idea anyway though, smiles at him beatifically. “Okay,” and he seems to think he’s being easier to move after that. He’s still as limber as a bag of sand, though and Billy figures by the time they get to his car it’s fucking lucky nobody seems to notice them, or it’d look like he’d gone and murdered their precious former king Steve. Getting him into the Camaro is yet another fucking hurdle, and Billy’s anxiously muttering as he tries to wrestle someone probably three quarters of his weight and maybe an inch taller into his passenger’s seat with limited success.“Okay, be careful, alright? My car’s lower than yours-- no, you’re gonna brain yourself, asshole. Jesus. Alright. You good? You gonna puke? If you puke in my car--”“I’m fine, Billy,” Steve shushes him, “I’m just great.” One of his fingers comes up to close Billy’s lips and lingers there until Billy thinks to pull away.“Alright, fine. Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart,” he says, and carefully shuts the door on him. “The shit I put up with for a good lay,” he mutters as he rounds the car to his side, but that kind of statement no longer sounds convincing even to his own ears. Steve is struggling with the tab on the belt when Billy joins him in the car, looking increasingly disgruntled. “This thing doesn’t work,” he mutters, huffs when Billy puts it on for him. Then finally they’re on the road and Billy even does his best to drive a little carefully, avoiding hard breaks and speeding around corners. Just to minimize the risk of getting a car full of vomit, though. Yeah, right. Meanwhile Steve is leaning against the window, tracing a raindrop with his fingers and humming under his breath. “Where are we going?” he asks when they stop at a red light. “Can we get something to eat? I could murder some pancakes…”“I’m taking you home, pretty boy,” Billy says, and almost laughs at the crestfallen look that elicits from Steve. “Tell you what, I’ll make you pancakes if you stop getting fingerprints on my window,” he says as the light changes, letting them through.Steve chuckles, but he does take his hands down with exaggerated care. “You can make pancakes?” he asks, as if Billy had claimed to be able to fly him to the moon. “Or are you just trying to trick me? Not cool, man.” He slumps down and for a moment Billy worries that he is actually going to throw up, but when Steve straightens up he sees that he was merely picking up the stupid plastic crown from the floor. Billy is a little surprised to see it, he had figured he’d lost it long before that. Steve picks at the fake glittery stuff on it, sends him a grin. “King Billy,” he says proudly, like he’s thought of something really witty. Billy has to smile in spite of himself. “I’ll make you a fucking mountain of pancakes, pretty boy.”“I like pancakes,” Steve agrees peacefully and abandons the crown to fiddle with the dials on the radio, though he doesn’t seem to notice it’s turned off. “And you can do anything. I know.”The smile he shoots Billy from the side is actually full of open and honest admiration. Billy clears his throat. “Don’t break off the dial, baby. We’re almost there.”“Pff I know where my house is…” Steve says, but when he glances out the window Billy thinks he hears a little gasp at how actually close they are. He’d thought about parking a block away but after the struggle getting Steve into the car, he’s not really about to intentionally walk that far with Harrington hanging off him again. So he pulls into the big looping driveway and hopes the neighbors don’t gossip.“You said the house is empty, right?” he asks, just to be sure, glancing up at the big hulking thing as he pulls the brake and undoes both their seatbelts.“Yeah,” Steve says. “Don’t get any clever ideas though. I see you.” The warning doesn’t feel particularly weighty though, with Steve grinning conspiratorially at him through it and with Billy’s intentions so far already having been almost offensively pure.Billy holds his hands up anyway though, as he pushes his own door open behind him.“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. He gets them both to the front door without too much struggle, but then he realizes they’re locked out of it.“You got a key?” he asks.“Well, I think I locked the door,” Steve frowns, like he’s trying to remember if he used his keys for that. Billy snorts and sticks his hand into the pocket of Steve’s jacket. Bingo. “I could have done that,” Steve huffs beside him. “Yeah, but I was kinda hoping to get inside before the weekend’s over,” Billy points out, and Steve hums agreement while Billy unlocks the door and finally gets them inside where it’s warm, and completely empty. “Pancakes,” Steve reminds him helpfully, leading the way to the kitchen with help from every wall or piece of furniture he passes. “Mm and ice cream,” he adds, once they get there and he seems to remember that he has some.Billy snorts.“Are you drunk or did I knock you up by accident?” he teases. “D’you eat like this whenever you drink?” Billy watches Steve pull a tub of ice cream from the freezer a little clumsily and pair it with what’s definitely a soup spoon, feeling a little jealous. “Don’t be an asshole,” Steve admonishes, wagging his spoon at him. “You can have some, if you want.” He hops onto the counter (successful only after four graceless tries), and scrambles at the plastic wrap around the container for what seems like eternity. After a moment, Billy can’t take watching that anymore. He takes it from Steve, ignores the hurt “hey!” And gives it back a second later, opened. Steve watches him, dangling his legs. “You are so good at stuff,” he says, and it’s the dumbest compliment Billy’s ever gotten. But the drunk idiot seems to mean it wholeheartedly, at least. “I don’t know what gave you that idea,” Billy says, and dips his finger into the ice cream, licking a lump of vanilla and cookie dough off of it with a smirk. “No, but you are,” Steve says with wide-eyed earnestness. “You can make pancakes, and you’re acing Spanish and English, and you’re almost as good as me at basketball—”“Better than you,” Billy suggests, dipping his finger into the ice-cream again. “Almost as good,” Steve nods, like Billy just agreed with him. “And you change your own oil, and you’re really, really good in bed.” “Well, yeah,” Billy says smugly, and grins when Steve punches his arm with all the strength of a week-old baby. “So yeah, I think you’re cool,” Steve says, shrugging and devoting himself to his ice-cream. Smiles up at him with a vanilla-stained mouth. “I think you’re pretty fucking awesome.”“That why you told me to go fuck myself under the bleachers?” Billy asks, because as much as Steve resembles a little baby deer tonight, that memory still fucking stings. “I never…” Steve blinks at him, frowns. Looks like the memory isn’t that pleasant for him, either. Or maybe his drunk mind is too muddled to even think that far back. He pushes his spoon through the thick creamy slush, not looking up at Billy anymore. “Felt like you were just using me.” Billy frowns at that. Feels a little put on the spot because… yeah, sort of, but towards the end there… “And you wanted small-talk,” he nods, looking away. “Yeah, I remember.”“I don’t, though,” Steve disagrees, stubbornly keeping his eyes down. “I’d really like kissing much better than talking. But you never kiss me.” He looks up then, pulls a face. “Sometimes I dream of us kissing. But when I wake up it never happened. Stupid, huh?”And Billy feels like he’s been punched in the gut suddenly, because kissing is one of the rules, but he’s already said fuck the rules once tonight and Steve looks so sweet with a creamy spoon in one hand, legs dangling, opening up to him like they weren’t saying horrible shit to each other just days ago.He steps in closer so Steve’s knees brush his hips and have to spread a little to accommodate his nearness.“It’s… not that stupid,” he admits, his lips tingling a little like they’re trying to tell him what they should do next.“Yeah, it is.” Steve smiles, a little sadly. “Like when we were sitting at the lake earlier… I thought maybe you kissed me.”And Billy can feel his heart hammer in his chest, but Steve shakes his head, like he can’t quite believe his own foolishness. “But then it was just over in a second. Must have been falling asleep.” Billy can’t help a bit of a pained laugh at that, and just shakes his head when Steve frowns down at him for it. “You didn’t dream that, pretty boy,” he says, and he can feel so much heat in his cheeks as he waits for Steve to come to the right conclusion. “I fucking kissed you, alright?” he huffs after half a second of silence seems to drag on for forever. “Last time I try something fucking romantic on someone who’s drunk off his ass.”Steve is looking at him wide-eyed, slow smile dawning on his face. He puts the tub of ice-cream down, out of the way, and slips cold hands around Billy’s waist. “Maybe you could do it again,” he suggests, “and I’d pay better attention? I’m not even that drunk anymore… pretty much almost sober? Really.” He looks so hopeful that Billy has to snort. “I promise,” Steve says. “I’m so sober. I could drive your car right now.”“I’ll kick your ass if you try,” Billy warns him, but Steve just smiles, undeterred. Leans in and then it’s sticky-sweet lips on his, cool and delicious. And Billy feels like an idiot, giving in to this, kissing someone so drunk again, but Steve’s clinging to him with fingers on his hip and shoulder and ankles linked up behind his thighs, and his mouth is so soft and yielding when Billy licks at the creamy taste on his lower lip. They kiss until Billy feels Steve start to run out of air and pulls back, chuckling. Harrington glares even as he gasps in a breath, like he thinks Billy’s laughing at him. Which… okay, maybe. “Alright there, sweetheart?” Billy teases, brushing their lips together again briefly. He keeps one hand tangled in the hair at the back of Steve’s neck, but lends his other one to steady him, wrapped tightly around his waist. “Yeah,” Steve says breathlessly, all smiles. “Yeah. Bit woozy. But good.” He pulls Billy closer by his shirt and kisses him again, slowly, lazily. It might just be that he’s about to fall asleep. But when Billy pulls away to check, Steve’s eyes are open. “You?” he asks, pawing at Billy’s ass a little aimlessly.Billy smirks and brings Steve’s hands back up somewhere more innocent before Steve starts something he can’t finish. “Don’t worry about me,” he says. “I’m doin’ just fine.” The grin on his face probably makes it clear though, he’s pretty damn far past fine. “You though…” he chides, trying to slip out of Steve’s grip enough to grab a clean glass from the cupboard and failing. “C’mon, pretty boy, lemme take care of you,” he mumbles. “Mm no,” Steve hums proudly, only clinging harder and pulling Billy’s lips back to his. Billy smirks and lets it happen, gets a little closer himself, and then hoists. Steve yelps against his mouth, but doesn’t let go at least, so after a little adjusting, Billy is comfortably carrying him. “Yes,” he smirks back. “Fuck you,” Steve mutters, but allows Billy to walk with him to the cupboard, get a glass, fill it at the sink, all the while Steve is straddling him like an overgrown koala. Maybe he’s waiting for Billy to tire out. Fat chance. “Unfair,” Steve complains when Billy makes him drink the whole glass, still comfortably holding him up, even with one hand. “How are you so fucking buff?” Billy grins and gives Steve a little squeeze. “You not like it?” he asks, pouting.“Shut up,” Steve mutters, and Billy starts bouncing him a little, trying to make him admit it. “Alright, alright, yeah. I like it. Now put me down, I’m getting dizzy.” Billy puts him down as careful as he can then, because Steve throwing up right now is about the last thing he fucking wants. And when Steve leaves a hand on his bicep to steady himself, but then allows it to move a little over the muscle and gives it a squeeze, he grins.“You so like it,” Billy gloats, and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist to keep him fully grounded as he heads for the kitchen door slowly. “C’mon, where’s your bedroom?” he asks into Steve’s absolute mess of hair, “You’re dead on your feet and I think being around you is getting me drunk too,” he smirks.“Upstairs,” Steve mumbles, leaning back into Billy, likely to get closer to him but more effectively making it nearly impossible to walk. “C’mon. Move your feet. Or you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you up? Don’t think I won’t do it, Harrington.”“Dick.” Steve squints at him with obvious displeasure, but goes up in front of Billy willingly enough and steers them to the first door on the left. Billy hardly has the chance to marvel at (and mock) the interior decorating before Steve lets himself fall face first into his king size bed, pulling Billy down with him.“Jesus,” Billy groans, giving Steve a shove, but Steve just giggles and leans up a little on one arm to mouth at what he can reach of his jaw in a way that feels surprisingly good considering how completely aimless it is. “You trying to seduce me, pretty boy?” Billy teases, feeling a little light-headed.He turns to look Steve in the eye, and Steve just takes that as an opportunity to make their lips meet again. Billy can’t help the little groan that comes out of his lips at that.“C’mon,” he sighs, kissing back. “We can’t… you gotta--” He breaks off the kiss with a gasp when Steve’s thigh brushes between his legs, and pulls back a little. “Gonna make me hard, baby,” he complains.“Mmmh, that’s nice,” Steve smiles, his mouth following Billy’s. “Cuz we’re in bed already, ya know…” He pulls at Billy’s jeans, but only succeeds in making them sit too tight in all the wrong places. “Stop, Steve, come on, you’re too fucked up for this,” Billy points out, barely making an effort to put distance between them. “Bet you’re not even hard.”And Steve frowns at that like it’s an insult. “I’m not that drunk, Billy,” he scolds, hands already moving to open his own jeans for proof, but he can’t quite manage the button so after a moment he gives up and cups himself over the denim. “See? I— fuck.” He frowns again and laughs. “I guess I’m really drunk,” he sighs.Billy snorts. “Yeah, you are,” he agrees. “I mean, you told Billy Hargrove you liked him,” he teases, and for a second Steve looks horrified, until he catches up with what Billy said and punches him weakly. “Yeah, don’t tell him, though. He’s a dick,” he mutters and his fingers get somehow tangled in Billy’s shirt. “I could suck you off,” he offers, petting Billy’s chest through the soft cotton. “You like it when I do that.” Like it’s some weird foible of Billy’s. Like anyone in their right mind wouldn’t like that. Billy groans and buries his face in Steve’s soft hair at that. Because he wants that, that sounds good, obviously. But he can’t shake the little voice of morality in the back of his mind that sounds an awful lot like Steve did just days ago: it’s not what I want. And the idea that apparently Steve wants to kiss him now… Billy really wants to make sure that’s true even when he’s not out of his head before he leans into this thing again. So he shakes his head and pulls away hips first. “Not tonight, baby,” he breathes, and it’s the first time he’s called him that unironically. It sends a shiver down his spine, but not a bad one. He pulls Steve’s shoes off for him, and once he’s off the bed himself he starts on getting him out of his jeans. Steve smirks hazily up at him at that. “You changed your mind, huh?”At least he’s helping a bit, lifting up his ass so Billy can pull off his jeans properly, but he frowns sleepily when Billy pulls out the duvet from underneath him and tucks him in. “What’re you doin’? You gonna leave? You said you’d make noise for me.” He can hardly keep his eyes open now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a pushy brat, apparently. Billy laughs and kisses his hand as it grabs for him. “I’ll stay,” he says. “Gonna take the couch though. I don’t want you waking up and throwing up on me in the night,” he teases. “If you still like me in the morning maybe we can make some noise together, huh?”“You’re just saying that,” Steve mumbles, apparently already drifting. Billy rolls his eyes but gives Steve one last kiss before he turns the light off and heads downstairs. There’s a nervous energy under his skin that won’t let him sleep, his lips keep tingling and he can’t stop touching them, but he plops down on the massive couch with a couple blankets from a linen closet he found in the hall, and watches TV until he falls asleep. Drowning out all the thoughts of how fucking fast he let himself get totally whipped by this boy.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Oh god.
It’s getting light when Steve drifts back into consciousness with nausea sitting on top of him like an evil goblin. He stumbles out of bed, dry-heaves over the toilet bowl, drinks at least a gallon of clear cold water straight from the tap. Stumbles back to bed. The next time he wakes up, he feels slightly less like something chewed him up and spit him back out. He just has to piss like a racehorse. And drinks at least two more gallons to make up for it. The third time, he keeps lying in bed. Annoyed by the way the sun is tickling his nose, but feeling too wrung out to get up. His stomach rumbles on empty, complains of the recent abuse. He could murder something hot and greasy. Bacon and eggs. Hash browns. A whole pot of black coffee so inky your spoon stands up in it. His mom makes the best coffee in the world. But his parents are out, Steve reminds himself dejectedly. The whole place is empty and quiet. Fuck. It only slowly dawns on him what that means. Billy isn’t here. Is nowhere to be seen. He must have left. Or did I just imagine he was here? Steve wonders. The whole memory of last night is more than a little hazy. Did he dream about Billy coming over and kissing him in the kitchen? Did that actually happen? Well, if he didn’t take me home, how did I get here? It’s a bit of a struggle to get out of bed and into the hall, all the way to the stairs, but Steve manages it valiantly. Someone should give him a medal. The hallway looks just like always. But when he peers out of the upstairs window into the hideously sunny day, there it is. A flash of midnight blue smack in the middle of the gravel driveway. The way his stomach flutters, Steve decides it’s high time to go down and give it some grub. He makes it down the stairs, slowly and heroically, but at the landing he makes a right, not a left to where coffee awaits. In the living room, there Billy is, lying on the couch, sprawled across the width of it like he owns it. Steve feels a stupid grin try to settle on his face. Thank god Billy isn’t awake to see it. His stomach growls, though, and his head throbs in sympathy. Coffee, he decides. And toast with lots of butter, and maybe an alka-seltzer or ten. But somehow he can’t move his feet and turn away from this. Maybe he’s still asleep, after all. Anyway, it has to be pure wish fulfillment that Billy looks so absolutely soft and sweet, sprawled out on his couch with one of Steve’s mom’s decorative pillows clutched to his chest. No way he sleeps that nice in real life.Unthinking, Steve sort of drifts into the living room just staring at the flutter of Billy’s lashes as he dreams, the slow rise and fall of his chest, all until pain lashes up his leg suddenly, causing Steve to stumble, clutching at his socked foot with a groan. Fucking end table, he feels like his big toe is broken. “Jesus,” he mutters, rubbing the damn thing hard to try and restore feeling to it. And from the couch he hears stirring. Shit, Billy! He glances up just in time to see his eyes slowly squint and open as he stretches his shoulders out a bit and looks around. A tingle runs through him, this time unrelated to his mother’s favorite end table. “Uh, hey,” he croaks. “I was just gonna… you want some breakfast or something?”Billy sits up a bit and shoves the pillow back in its spot, wiping his face with both hands to clear the sleepiness from it. It doesn’t quite work, and Steve’s kind of glad. “Yeah,” he croaks back, shuffling a hand through his hair like it’s not still done from the night before. That makes Steve realize what a nightmare he must look like, though, and he feels a pang of annoyance at himself, that he didn’t think to fix his hair before he came downstairs. “You got any eggs in this house?”Steve shrugs. “I think so? Dunno,” he admits, and Billy looks up at him like he’s some kind of crazy person for not having a running tally of the number of eggs in the place. The look kinda devolves into something else after a second though, a little more like he’s looking for something in Steve’s eyes, or maybe just like he’s got something on his face. After a while Steve tries to casually rub his chin with a finger and thumb (no dried drool to be found, thank god), and the spell is broken then. Billy turns away and sniffs a little and groans:“Coffee then? Please tell me you’ve got some of that.”“Mmmmhm.” Steve would have liked to tell Billy that of course he does, what does Billy take him for? Coffee is the one thing all Harringtons can agree on. But words are hard. Getting them out of his mouth even more so. So he trudges into the kitchen, feels Billy following behind him and just the sense of Billy’s eyes on his back makes him wonder. Why the hell is Billy even still here? Trying to remember what they said or did the previous night makes his head hurt. The best he can fumble for is sensations. He distinctly remembers kissing. Unless he dreamed that. But there’s a container of ice-cream still on the counter, melted to a sticky sauce. Steve stares at it, then looks at Billy, trying to see if he remembers it too. Maybe Billy was drunk, too. Man, I was so drunk last night. The best excuse in all the history of crazy shit you don’t want to own up to.But he can’t read Billy’s face and his head is throbbing, demanding caffeine. So he stumbles to the espresso machine, every movement after that done a million times, often enough so that he can do it while still hazy and hung over. Behind him it sounds like Billy is trying to take apart the kitchen with a mallet, so when Steve finally finishes fiddling with the machine and thinks to turn and tell him to stop, he’s surprised to see that Hargrove has gotten out a pan and a carton of eggs and is bringing out cheese and some vegetable or other. “What are you doing?” he mumbles stupidly, and Billy laughs at him. “Making you breakfast, pretty boy,” he huffs. “What’s it look like?”And Steve has no idea how to answer that. But when the smell of butter heating in the pan hits him and makes his mouth water, he smiles. Leans against the counter and watches Billy chop up some more stuff he didn’t even know they had. “Guess this is new,” he says, just watching Billy work intently on those eggs. “Never got to the morning after bit. Did we even fuck last night?” It slips out before he even thinks about what kind of stupid shit he should better keep to himself. At least he stopped before asking Billy if he cooks all of his lays breakfast or if he’s just that special. And Billy stiffens a bit, which Steve sort of expected. What he didn’t expect is the quick, gruff:“You were drunk off your ass.” Followed by a shrug like Billy feels some kind of ashamed for some part of that, and a “the fuck would I wanna fuck you like that for?”Is that an insult? Steve can’t quite tell. Frowning, he turns back to the coffee machine. Divides the spoils between two cups, and returns to Billy’s side. “So, you were being a gentleman, huh? Is this what this is?” The concept is so alien that Steve has trouble wrapping his mind around it, but at least now he has coffee to help him. Gorgeous, hot black coffee. He instantly feels a little better, sip by sip. “Yeah, well,” Billy tosses some stuff into the pan and gives it a stir before taking his mug from Steve. “Last time we talked sober you kinda made it sound like you didn’t want to do that again, so...” He shrugs, taking a sip of the coffee too and groaning a little, a groan Steve hadn’t realized how much he missed. “Good?” he asks with a smile. Is it cheap to fish for compliments just for coffee? He doesn’t care. Billy shoots him a look of honest appreciation, and it pools hot and heady in Steve’s belly, just like the coffee does. “Not too bad,” Billy shrugs, and Steve’s smile turns into a grin. “My dad got the machine after my mom caught him cheating,” he says, leaning against the counter. “I think if they ever do get divorced, they’re gonna fight over who gets custody of the Bezerra, not me.”Billy glances up at him from under his lashes, frowning like he’s trying to understand that, and Steve realizes maybe he shouldn’t have just said something like that. Like, to him it’s nothing special anymore, but to someone who isn’t used to his family… it might seem a bit too sad for so early in the morning, or something. But after a second Billy seems to get that Steve isn’t really bothered by it, that it’s all kinda just a joke, and he snorts into his coffee mug. Hip checks him and mutters, “fuckin Harrington,” sort of fondly. He returns to the eggs then, and Steve glances down at them to realize that if it were him, they’d have been about to burn right now. But Billy salvages them, makes the slightly toasted bits look actually appealing, and Steve manages to think ahead enough to have plates waiting for him when he finishes. Thank god for coffee. “This isn’t even half-bad,” Steve says when they dig into the eggs, all buttery goodness together with the toast he remembered just in time. “You cook? You can stay.” Billy rolls his eyes and takes a gulp of still-steaming coffee. “Charming, King Steve,” he says, all sarcastic. But they sit pretty close at the Harringtons’ big table, and even though they don’t really talk after that, it’s because they’re both too distracted by eating the best damn eggs Steve has ever had in this house. And it’s comfortable almost, the silence. Until they’re done, that is. Around the same time. Then it gets really quiet and the house feels really empty all of a sudden because neither of them seem to know what to say next. Billy takes his last bite of food, chews, swallows, and clears his throat. “So, uh,” he says like he’s continuing a conversation where they left off, “we gonna go get your car from the lake, or what?”And it shouldn’t be fucking disappointing. Billy is actually trying to help. But what it means is that they’ll go out, and drive to the lake, and then Billy is gonna leave. What the fuck would they hang around there for? It’s cold as anything outside. Steve shrugs. Puts his cutlery neatly onto his plate. But he can’t really think of any good reason why not. “Don’t have to,” he says. But unless he’s gonna walk there, it’s actually the only way he can think of to get that car. And Billy knows that too, clearly, cause he just shrugs and gets up to take their plates to the sink. Who could’ve imagined Billy Hargrove would be so civilized at home? Steve almost wants to crack a joke or two about Billy’s otherwise caveman-like demeanor, suggest he smash the plates instead, but then even in his head, that sounds too mean. And more than that, it doesn’t even sound that funny. Cause it’s taken a while to uncover some of the layers of this guy he’s been fucking around with for weeks, but… Billy’s not like that. When they’re alone, Billy can be good. Soft, even.Steve flashes back to the feeling of Billy’s lips on his last night, hopefully memories, maybe dreams, but then Billy’s coming back from the living room -- Steve hadn’t noticed he’d left -- and tossing a jacket from the hall closet at Steve.“C’mon,” he says. “Before some Freshman tags it.”“Oh shit.” Steve hadn’t even considered that to be a possibility. “Were there lots of them at the thing last night?” Billy shoots him a look then, like he can’t believe how goddamn shitfaced Steve got, and Steve feels his ears heat up a bit. “Just a bit foggy, is all,” he mutters. “And my dad’s gonna kill me if anything happens to the paint job.” Billy nods like he gets that much at least and helps Steve the rest of the way into his jacket.“Then let’s get out there, huh?” he says. And their faces are so close that for a second Steve feels an almost unshakable urge to lean in just a little and make their lips meet. Find out for sure whether he dreamed all of last night or just some of it. Billy pulls away then, though, and starts them heading out the door, leaves Steve to fumble into his sneakers and follow. At least in the car, they have music. Blaring loud metal which doesn’t do Steve’s slowly receding headache any favors, but at least it’s not quiet. And at some point, Billy starts tapping the wheel in time to a song Steve has never heard and that seems to be mostly screaming, but it’s like Billy is just holding himself from singing along, and, fuck. Steve can’t help but smile, because that is cute as hell. They arrive at the lake far too soon (because Steve would have liked to drive with him some more, even without talking, because Billy just made the not talking okay, somehow. Almost comfortable. Even if Billy drives way too fast). Steve unfolds himself from the car and stands, looks at his own car, which seems okay. Not even a bit of bird shit on it. “Alright,” he says, pushing his hands into his pockets. “That’s good, then. Thanks, man.” But he doesn’t make a move to go over to it yet.Billy gets out of the car too and lights a cigarette, looking out over the water. They kind of gravitate towards each other or something then, moving to the front of the car, and Steve leans against the hood while Billy smokes in near silence. The faint twitter of birds and the sound of Billy’s breaths in the cold air are nice, and it’s a while before Steve realizes he’s sort of staring at Billy’s boots, scuffed in the dirt, but only a second after that he notices Billy’s sort of staring at him too.“Hey,” he says, just to shake that stare. “I almost forgot. You’re the king now, right? Or did I just dream that?” Billy smirks and glances out at the lake.“You dream that kind of stuff often, pretty boy?” he asks. And then, realizing, “Shit, I left the crown at your place,” he hisses in mock disappointment. “Keep it safe for me, will ya?”“You could just come and get it. Sometime. When you’re not busy...” Steve shrugs. He doesn’t really know how else to say that yes, he dreams of that kind of stuff, apparently. Like him and Billy kissing. Billy looks over at him again, and he’s not really smiling but Steve feels like he can see something like a smile in his eyes, somehow.But you didn’t fucking dream that, a voice in his mind nags. “Yeah?” Billy asks around the cigarette, and dammit he actually sounds kind of surprised.“Yeah, well. If you want.” God, this is getting embarrassing. He’s pretty much grovelling at Billy’s feet. Whatever happened to acting like you don’t care? But he doesn’t want Billy to think that, not really. He just wants him to fucking care, too. Billy grins a little then, and chews his lip like he’s maybe having the same talk with himself. Or maybe Steve’s just being too hopeful again. He finishes the last of his cigarette and tosses it down to crush it under his heel. Steve watches it and feels a surge of hopeless desperation in his chest. “Look, about last night…” he starts, and trails off, glances down where he’s freezing his balls off in flannel pajama pants in the winter like an idiot. Billy’s hand is really close to him on the hood of the car, though, suddenly. And that’s good. Right? He glances up at Billy’s face, but Billy still isn’t meeting his eyes.He glances around like he’s suddenly afraid they’re not alone here, and then he’s meeting Steve’s eyes again and that blue is so intense up close it should fucking be illegal because Steve thinks his heart stops for a second before it comes hammering back at a furious pace. “Did you mean it?” Billy rasps out, “before. When you said you wanted… more, or whatever… Do you still…?”And that feels like a trick question. Muddled and hungover or not, Steve still remembers what Billy said then, under the bleachers. Every disdainful word of it. About just wanting to fuck, without all the emotional bullshit. And yeah, okay. If that’s all Billy wants… No, I just wanna bang. Let’s bang. You got condoms in your car? It should be easy. But he can’t really say it. Instead, he shrugs. Tries to laugh it off. “I know, it’s a drag. I’ll get over it.”Billy glances down at Steve’s lap, but he doesn’t move his hand up toward the embarrassingly obvious shape of his mostly limp dick under the thin fabric. Which is a shame. Steve almost wishes he would, just to help him warm up a little.“What if I--” Billy has to clear his throat a little, and shifts from foot to foot. He’s between Steve’s legs now, where Steve sits on the hood of his car, and it’s giving him déjà vu to the night before. That had to have been real, right? The ice cream was real… “What if I don’t want you to get over it?” Steve’s heart pounds in his chest.“What are you saying?” he breathes. He’s looking at Billy, searching his face. “What do you want me to--”And then he’s cut off by Billy’s lips on his own and he can’t help a little moan. Billy tastes like Steve remembers it, and it wasn’t a dream, none of it fucking was. Steve puts his arms around Billy’s neck, pulls him closer, opens up willingly when Billy teases his lips with his tongue, and, fuck. It’s so much better even than he remembers it. Billy kisses like he fucks, all hungry and open, and yet a little halting. Like he’s still unsure. Or maybe just like he’s out of practice kissing. He feels out of practice, kind of stiff against Steve, hands and tongue unsure of where to go, and that shouldn’t be endearing but it is.“Yeah, I’m not getting over it,” Steve murmurs against his lips, and he can feel Billy’s smirk as they kiss again. Feels his cock plump up a little despite the cold when Billy pulls him closer with one hand and wraps the other arm around him. Feels even a little dizzy when Billy doesn’t let him come up for air more than a second, just leans in again like kissing Steve is the only thing that matters, and he has to make up for all the time they haven’t been kissing in the last few weeks. Months? Hot damn. Steve has to break away when he actually starts seeing stars behind his closed eyes, stays a moment leaning his forehead against Billy’s, breathing heavily. Has to smile when his eyes fall on Billy’s lips, flushed and absolutely appetizing. He draws a breath to ask Billy what is that he actually does want. Because whatever it is, Steve wants to give it to him. But Billy seems to sense that Steve is about to say something, and leans in to catch his mouth in another kiss instead. And, yeah, okay. Steve isn’t going to turn that down. It feels like they have so much to make up for, so he leans into it, lets himself melt into Billy’s kiss. At the very least he doesn’t feel cold anymore. The engine of Billy’s car is still warm beneath him, ticking slightly, cooling down. The thought of doing it, right here, crosses Steve’s mind and he groans, pushes against Billy a little more determinedly. The thought only lasts half a second though, before the short woop woop of a police siren breaks them apart fast. Billy shoves him back so Steve ends up lying on his back on the car, which feels even worse than just being caught making out, but when Officer Powell leans out his window he doesn’t appear to realize what he just drove up on at least.“Beach is closed today, boys,” he says. “You better go on home now, before you catch cold.”“We were just about to go,” Steve says, because Billy is stubbornly silent, turned away from him, like he’s looking into the woods. For fuck’s sake. Steve struggles back into a sitting position and shoots the cop a sheepish look. “Sorry, officer. We’ll get out of here pronto.” “You do that.” At least the police car leaves then, doesn’t wait for them to actually drive off. At least they get to talk before they have to go. If Billy actually ever opens his mouth again. Steve pushes away from the car, touches Billy’s shoulder. The flinch that follows hurts just a bit. “It’s fine, man,” he says quietly. “He didn’t see a thing.” Billy glances up, watching the taillights disappear, and shrugs.“Yeah, I know,” he says like he’s trying to kid himself he isn’t bothered. “It’s fine,” he echoes, and pulls Steve in for a quick kiss. “Raincheck on the fuck though. I should get home before my dad thinks I’m off getting somebody pregnant.” He smirks a little, but Steve doesn’t find the joke that funny. He’s too disappointed, and his balls kind of hurt with the cold, and the Billy. But Billy seems to think of something just then and it makes him go all soft again, kind of embarrassed-looking as he glances up at Steve.“Hey, why don’t we do something this weekend?” he offers. “Y’know, if you’re free.”Steve wants to laugh. “If I’m free?” He reaches over to Billy, lets his hand rest on Billy’s hip. “What kind of something do you have in mind?” His stupid heart is hopeful again, but even if all Billy’s gonna suggest is a quick fuck in the Dairy Queen parking lot, Steve is pretty positive he won’t say no. Especially now that, looking over, he thinks he can see a bit of a blush reaching Billy’s ears as he shrugs again.“Think you said something ‘bout a movie before…” he suggests.“Like a date?” Steve can’t help asking that, and he’s not imagining it, Billy is definitely getting more flushed. But Steve wants to hear it, needs to hear it straight from Billy’s mouth, after all that they’ve done and said.“Yeah, asshole, like a fucking date,” Billy grins a little, giving Steve a tug by the hips so he sort of stumbles and has to lean into him. “So, what do you think?” “I think if you spring for some popcorn, I’m in,” Steve smiles, bumping up against Billy. Which just reminds him of his still uncomfortably half-hard dick, which they won’t have any chance to do anything about right now. Still, he doesn’t even feel that sore about it anymore. Because Billy just asked him out on a date. And he knows they don’t have a lot of time, but he has to lean in for another kiss, just thinking about that. “So we’re actually gonna do this? All the shit you said you didn’t want?” he asks quietly when they break apart again.And Billy just nods a little and mutters, “I lied.” Which shouldn’t be a pair of words that warm Steve to his toes, but they are. “I swear, though, Harrington, if you’re not serious about this…” Billy frowns, and goes back to chewing on his lip.“Yeah, I know. You’ll kill me in my sleep,” Steve says, catching Billy’s lips with his own to stop him worrying so much. “So, tonight? You gonna pick me up? Gotta warn ya.” He smirks at Billy, still feeling giddy. “I don’t put out on the first date. Well. Unless you ask real nice.” Billy shakes his head and reaches in between them to cup Steve in his loose pajama pants, making him gasp a little.“Yeah, or unless you’ve been waiting for it all day,” he smirks. “Sure you’re not gonna be in my lap halfway through the movie, baby?”“Oh, like you’re any different,” Steve scoffs, even though he’s involuntarily pushing into Billy’s touch at the same time. “You telling me you’re not gagging for it?” “Mhm, all the more reason for you to wind up in my lap,” Billy purrs, and moves his hand away to give Steve’s ass a squeeze. “So, I’ll pick you up at eight?” he asks.And Steve doesn’t really trust his voice right now, so he nods. Eight is good.“I’ll see you then, pretty boy,” Billy smiles, and pulls away to head toward the driver’s side of his car. “Bring a condom if you want one,” he smirks, and then he’s getting into his car and Steve is backing away towards his own, feeling dizzy and pleased and not half as hungover as he was that morning.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Billy gets home on the top of the fucking world, and when he sneaks in all quiet just to find a note on the fridge that says he and the brat are on their own till after dinner, the day just gets better. He whoops and takes a long-ass, scalding shower, the kind his dad would hate, and plays all his tapes at full volume while he lifts weights and later while he cooks for him and Max. It isn’t till he’s finished eating his own dinner that he realizes she’s been awfully quiet all day for someone who hates Kill ‘Em All, and when he goes into her room to drag her out only to find her fucking gone, it almost ruins his day. Almost. Because just then his watch beeps at him and Billy realizes he’s only got about an hour and a half till he’s gotta leave to pick up Harrington. For their date. Suddenly Max couldn’t be further from his mind, and Billy’s rushing back to his room to figure out what he’s gonna wear, a piece of garlic bread in his mouth. He cranks the music louder to drown out the nerves that are stupidly trying to get to him, and sifts through the limited offerings of his closet about 50 times, huffing and muttering to himself about easy access and complimentary colors and too fucking soft. He already feels like a fucking fairy princess whenever Harrington is around, no way he’s gonna wear a fucking sweater and confirm it. So, the leather jacket comes out. And after some deliberation between that and a tank top, Billy decides on a dark red button-up, buttoned-down. He’s just getting into the swing of this look, final outfit on and hair nearly perfect, when he hears a thunk that he prays is just a cat in a trash can but knows in his soul is his dad’s pick-up truck. Sure enough, only half a minute later Neil is banging on the door and Billy sighs, puts the Aquanet down, and goes to open his door. “Yeah?” he prompts, and Susan’s there too, looking worried. What the hell? Oh... yeah. Max. “Where is your sister?” Neil asks, and Billy answers on knee-jerk instinct:“She’s not my sister.” Shit. You idiot. “You were supposed to watch her,” Neil keeps on going, and Billy’s so done with it, answering questions on autopilot. He’s already mentally on his way out the door. It’s only by the fucking grace of god he doesn’t come right out and say something stupid like Can we do this later?Instead he points out, as he’s done plenty of times before and will probably keep having to do till Max is fucking 25, that she’s old enough to watch her fucking self. He’d been free to run around the neighborhood without supervision at like 9, though Billy knows their circumstances are different. He’d had a single, mourning, alcoholic father. She has two painfully sober control-freak parents. A whole happy family to look after her. “... too busy staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot,” his dad says then, and Billy feels a rush of cold and then hot through his veins. His dad doesn’t know about that. He’s been careful. But even so, Billy’s fingers itch to form fists at that word. “I look after her all week, dad,” he argues, fighting down the urge to really yell with all his might. “She wants to run off, that’s her problem, alright? She’s almost 13 years old. She shouldn’t need a full time babysitter!”Billy turns off the music with all the effort he wants to throw into a punch right now, suddenly finding it kind of hard to think with all that going on, and adds: “if she does, maybe she should go the way of that Byers kid!”He doesn’t mean it. Obviously. It’s blatant hyperbole meant to point at the stupidity of all of this. But that’s just what his old man is. Fucking stupid. And just as angry as Billy is now, apparently, because the next second Billy’s closet shelves are digging into his back and he’s not really sure where the air in his lungs went. Neil gets up in his face and growls at him: “What did we talk about?” Billy wants to crush this motherfucker’s skull, but he just stares ahead and breathes through his nose instead. 1-2-3-- SMACK! Billy comes back to earth with a ringing in his left ear as Neil repeats himself slower. Icier. Fuck. “Respect, and responsibility,” Billy breathes out, willing himself to keep eye contact. He won’t look away this time. He knows better. Break eye contact and you’re dead. “... apologize to your mother,” Neil advises, and Billy has to catch his breath before bites out the requisite: “I’m sorry, Susan,” just loud enough to hear. I’m sorry you’ve got pathetic taste in men, Susan. Sorry Max has a spineless shit like you for a mom. Sorry I’m not sorry at all. Watch this and fucking weep, bitch. Billy stands there and tries to shut off. Just takes the words that are thrown at him and leans back as much as he’s able when Neil’s hand gets in too close. Hopes like hell he won’t touch the earring like he keeps threatening to do. Like he keeps forgetting his dad is totally capable of doing. “... But you’re gonna make up for it, aren’t you,” Neil says, giving Billy that look he gets when he thinks of a particularly good punishment, and Billy plants his feet firmer on the ground than before, ready for it. “You’re gonna call whatever whore you’re all dressed up for tonight, and cancel your date,” Neil says, and suddenly Billy’s not so ready for it anymore. His fists itch to fly at Neil all over again, but he holds on, just barely. “And then,” he turns to Susan, “he’s gonna go find his sister. Like the good, kind, respecting brother that he is. Isn’t that right, Billy?” He turns that look back on Billy then, and Billy wants to fucking scream. He wants to throw his entire fucking vanity at this asshole and drive out of the fucking state doing 110 with the windows down. But instead he fights back the furious tears he can feel welling up, and grinds out enough of a “yes, sir,” to satisfy his old man. Only when his door finally closes behind them does Billy realize how fucking bad his body wants to let out a sob. He mutters a stilted “fuck,” past the lump in his throat, rubs his shaking hands over his face, and tries to just get himself to breathe. Come on, get a hold of yourself, he thinks. This is nothing. It’s fine. But then he remembers his date and the tears spill over for real. Christ. He glances at his watch. He should be leaving right now. “Okay, okay, just call him--” Billy thinks of the second line in Neil’s room, though, of his heavy breathing on the line every time Billy uses the phone, and shakes his head. “Gotta go over there. I’ll just swing by and tell him I gotta cancel to go look for fuckingMax...” Billy almost breaks down again at how pathetic he sounds. How red his eyes are in the mirror. “Fuck. Okay.” He slaps himself on the cheek opposite to the one Neil just reddened and grabs his keys, heading out the door.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
All day long Steve has been fidgety and nervous, unsure of what to do with himself. He does his best, swims a couple of laps, fucks around with the tv remote, but he can’t really concentrate on anything long enough to actually watch it. Sleep is no help, either. Usually, Steve can sleep wherever, whenever, especially after a hangover. On normal days he is out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow, soft surface, table or desk, even. He once got thrown out of Bio for snoring too loud. But suddenly that’s no use. He lies down several times, only to get up again. The wheels in his mind just won’t stop turning. And fuck it all, it’s not even close to getting dark yet. Why the fuck did he tell Billy to pick him up at 8? 5:30 is a totally reasonable time for a date. And then time shifts and does an odd little warp, because it suddenly feels like there’s nowhere enough time left to shower and shave and get dressed and do his hair and get dressed again because these other pants make his ass look better. By the time he hears the Camaro revving in the driveway, he feels like an hour or two of more time to prepare might have been good. Because he doesn’t feel ready. Billy is picking him up for their date. He may never feel prepared for that. Heart beating hard, he grabs his keys, shrugs on a jacket and runs outside. Slips into the passenger seat and bangs the door shut. “Hey,” he says, out of breath and trying not to beam, because, fuck, Billy is actually here. And he’s always hot, obviously, but holy shit. His hair looks so good and his shirt… “Uh, hey,” Billy says back though, and he… doesn’t sound right. Not just not as excited as Steve is, but actively like he’s kind of miserable. He glances back up at Billy’s face in the dim light from the streetlamp and frowns. Billy’s eyes don’t normally shine like that, do they? “What’s the matter?” Steve asks, because something clearly is. “You okay?” Maybe Billy is coming down with something. His voice sounds hoarse when he speaks up again. “I’m gonna have to— can we do a— a rain check on this thing?”Before Steve can even start asking what the hell that means, he continues, “My dumbass stepsister ran off somewhere and apparently it’s my job to find her…” Billy’s voice gets kind of wobbly with anger as he says that and turns to stare forward, fingers of one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other precariously holding what remains of a cigarette as it rests on the gear shift. So that’s it. Steve exhales, relaxes into his seat. That’s nothing. For a moment there he actually thought Billy had changed his mind or something. Little sisters, those he can deal with. “Sure,” he says, and because Billy’s hand is still gripping that steering wheel way too tight, making it shake a bit with the effort, he covers it with his own. “Let’s find your sister first, and then after we drop her off, maybe we’ll still have time for the late showing or something.” He can see Billy’s jaw is clenched so hard, the muscles on his neck are standing out. It makes Steve’s stomach clench in sympathy. “It’s okay,” he says, trying his damnedest to cheer Billy up a bit. Sure, it’s a little disappointing to have their plans derailed, but the movies aren’t going anywhere. The most important thing is that Billy still wants that. “It’s alright. If the theater’s closed by the time we get back, we can catch the midnight special at Casa Harrington, if you like.”He tries to catch Billy’s eyes. “I’ll make popcorn.”Billy gives in to a soft laugh at that, and when he finally meets Steve’s gaze again, he looks a little less shaky. “You’re not coming with me,” he says doubtfully, but Steve just snorts. “Sure I am. I’m here already, right?” Billy looks like he might argue that logic, so he quickly continues. “Plus, I got longer legs. Way better for running after weaselly little middle-schoolers. You should see my fucking track records.”There’s a tiny smile at that, which turns the lead in Steve’s stomach into butterflies. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Hargrove,” he says softly. And though Billy mutters something under his breath that sounds like, “yeah, you’re a fucking pest,” he leans in and gives Steve a kiss, so brief and light Steve thinks he might have imagined it, before he reverses the car and they pull out of his parents’ driveway. Billy already seems to have somewhere in mind when they get out of Loch Nora, which gives Steve just a little spike of hope that this whole thing won’t take too long, and he sits back to enjoy the entirely too fast ride. Then they pull into a very familiar street. “Are we going to the Wheelers’?” “Yeah, Max has been hanging out there a lot. Playing with Mike Wheeler’s cousin from Russia, or whatever.”Oh, right. Steve remembers it now, watching Billy pick up his sister when he last saw Nancy up in her room. Nancy. Shit. He really hopes Nancy isn’t going to be the one to answer the door. That would be awkward as hell. “Maybe I should just wait in the car,” he offers as they pull up in front of Nancy’s house, and he can feel his ears turn red when Billy shoots him a look. “I thought you were with me,” he says, and it sounds mostly like he’s teasing, but Steve isn’t sure. Either way, Billy doesn’t look like he’s about to leave him in the car, so Steve does his best to shrug it off and not seem as horribly awkward as he feels. “Yeah,” he says, “alright. You got me there. Come on, let’s go get your sister.”Billy glances at him again at that, pausing as he gets out of the car to throw back a quick “step-sister,” in correction.Steve follows Billy up the Wheelers’ front steps trying not to stare at the fit of his jeans too much, and thankfully Mrs. Wheeler’s the one who answers. Suddenly Billy’s entire mood seems to switch though, the way he’s standing on the porch even changing, and Steve is bowled over by how very put-on his usual persona seems now that Steve’s seen the other side of it. Suddenly he doesn’t sound angry or annoyed at all. In fact, he sounds worried. And… flirtatious?“I know your house is the… the designated hangout, so, you know… here I am…” he says, and it’s definitely flirting now. That’s the voice Billy uses when he’s trying to get Steve to use something random for lube. And he hasn’t seen Karen Wheeler look so completely charmed since he got turned around looking for Nancy’s room once and caught her reading some book with a half-naked cowboy on the front cover. He shifts and coughs a little, diffusing the annoying tension in the air. Which still doesn’t stop Billy from getting a fucking cookie from the kitchen while Mrs. Wheeler scribbles some address on a slip of paper. “Dude,” Steve frowns on their way back to the car, lacking the words to properly articulate his fucking disbelief. And no, he’s not jealous, Mrs. Wheeler is ancient. But still. “What the hell was that?”Billy’s back to scowling now, but he flashes Steve one of his signature smirks. The ones that get Steve feeling all hot under the collar and simultaneously confused about whether he’s being made fun of. “Got the address, didn’t I?” Billy asks, and that’s such a stupid answer that Steve is speechless as they get into the car and peel out.He wants to point out that you don’t have to flirt to get moms to help with stuff, that’s kind of what they’re for, but the fact that Billy seems increasingly not in the mood stops him short. As does Billy’s sudden huff of:“You’re not fucking her anymore, right?” He sounds like he’s been trying to figure out how to say that since they got in the car, minutes ago, and finally just said it because he couldn’t hold back. For a second, Steve considers quipping that he has never even touched Mrs. Wheeler, let alone made her any indecent proposals of that kind, but the way Billy is scowling makes the joke die in his throat. “Never got that far with Nancy, dickhead,” he says, but Billy’s scowl only deepens. “Bullshit. I saw your car. That night.” Steve doesn’t have to ask which night. “I just went there to talk,” he says, and Billy scoffs. “But she was with Jonathan. She has been for a while, I think.”“Yeah, right. Like anybody would go with a freak like that instead of you.”Even though Billy is basically accusing him of cheating, the underlying praise makes Steve smile a bit. He shrugs. “Yeah, well. I’ve been kinda distracted. A lot. By someone else.”Billy glances over at him at that and Steve can see the corner of his scowl twitch a little before he looks back toward the darkening road. “Alright,” he grumbles, “if you say so.”Jealous, really? Steve knows it shouldn’t please him, but still. It makes the whole awkwardness about the Nancy situation a little easier to face, somehow. He doesn’t feel as stupid anymore when they stop at the Byers’ house. He even lets their fingers brush as they walk up to the front door and thinks about taking Billy’s hand for half a second, feeling kind of soft and happy. Until the door opens a crack at Billy’s fourth and most unfriendly knock.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Nancy?” Suddenly Steve feels stupid all over again. “What--?”Nancy only looks surprised to see him for about half a second before she’s frowning, stern, pretty blue eyes all wide and worried:“Both of you need to leave.” She still hasn’t opened the door enough even for them to really see inside, let alone check if Max is in there.“I don’t give a shit what you think, Wheeler,” Billy growls. “I’m looking for my kid sister--”“She’s not here, okay?” Nancy says urgently, putting a hand on the door like she needs it to hold steady. “Just go. Get out of here.”But Steve’s eyes are focused on the bandage around Nancy’s hand now and he can’t look away.“Nancy, what-- is that blood? Did he-- did he hurt you?” Nancy quickly looks over her shoulder and Steve can dimly make out Jonathan inside. Why are they both acting so weird?“Get out of here!” Nancy tells them again and moves to close the door. But Billy has stuck his foot in the way. She looks confused at first, then angry. Steve has never seen her like this. If he had any doubt that something was very wrong here, it vanishes at the way she glares at Billy. “Where’s your brother, Wheeler? And all those other little shits he hangs out with?”“I don’t know!” Nancy insists, just as Jonathan speaks up with a, “They’re not here.”Even to Steve it’s clear they’re hiding something. Nancy’s eyes flicker to Jonathan for a moment, and Billy uses that second of inattention to shoulder through the door. “You’re full of shit. Both of you!” Steve flinches a bit at the way that move tosses Nancy back so she nearly loses her footing, but she’s fine. And then he and Billy are in the house, and Billy’s glancing from Nancy to Jonathan Byers like he’s trying to figure out which one is hiding his sister from him. Steve’s money is on Jonathan, the creep, but he’s not as focused as Billy seems to be, advancing and pushing Jonathan up against a wall.“Billy?” he mutters, glancing around the room for the first time, feeling like he just stepped into some kind of fucked up theme-park ride. Nancy’s hands are on him now, trying to push him back towards the door, but he’s not going. Not without Billy, not without Nance even, because holy shit what does Byers have a bat full of nails for??“What the fuck!”Steve’s head snaps around to the hall to see Billy just barely holding himself back from where he’d nearly stepped on something mean-looking and metal.“Is that a… bear trap?” Billy turns on Nancy and Jonathan again, looking just about exactly as freaked out as Steve feels, times ten. “What the fuck, Byers? Where’s my sister?”Steve is still trying to make sense of it all, but there just isn’t any sense to be had. What the hell are they doing? Is this a demon summoning? Has Jonathan Byers dragged Nancy into a cult? “What is that smell?” he asks, latching onto the first tangible thing that is just wrong. “Is that gasoline?” Then, FUCK, Nancy is pulling out a gun and pointing it at Billy. Steve’s heart jumps into his throat.“You have five seconds to get out, I’m not kidding!”“Point that thing somewhere else, you crazy bitch, I swear to God--”Steve steps in front of Billy, feeling just a little like maybe, possibly, hopefully, she’ll feel less inclined to shoot him. Hoping that Billy will hold still and stop threatening to advance on her like he wants her to shoot. But the way Nancy’s eyes have gone all crazy and he can feel Billy stirring behind him, Steve really doesn’t feel all too sure about any of that. “What is going on?” he yells, trying to snap her out of the crazy stupor she seems to be in. “Five, four…” “Nancy!”“Steve, get out of the way--”“Three…”“What is going on?”
“Nancy!”
All of their heads turn towards Jonathan. “The lights! It’s here!” Just then Steve notices that the lights in the room have started to flicker. Faulty wiring? A thunderstorm coming up? But it was a clear night last time he checked. “The fuck are you talking about? What’s here?” Steve can feel Billy against his back, a hand on him like he’s getting ready to throw him out of the way.“Where is it?” Nancy shouts, completely ignoring them now, back to back with Jonathan.Steve flinches when their movements around the room put Jonathan’s nail bat entirely too close to his face for comfort.“Watch it with that!” he shouts uselessly.“Where is what?” Billy insists, coming around his side a little, advancing closer to the fucking crazy despite everything. “Hey! I asked you a question!”Just then there’s a crash from the ceiling and everyone ducks as it starts to break apart like something’s coming in from the attic. Billy stumbles back, pushing Steve with him.Nancy raises her gun again and fires blindly at the thing, but that’s all Steve sees before Jonathan’s pulling Nance back toward the hall and Billy’s following, tugging Steve with him.He almost stumbles, nearly falls face-first into that goddamned bear-trap, but Billy’s hand at the scruff of his shirt saves him just in time. They run into a bedroom and Jonathan bangs the door shut behind them. “What the hell was that?” Steve asks frantically, and both Nancy and Jonathan yell at him to shut up. He feels Billy start at his side, like he’s going to launch himself at them, and holds him by the arm, tightly. The tension in the room is only cut by all of their harsh breathing and the slow footsteps of whatever the thing is that’s out there. It makes a little whining, chirping sound, and Nancy and Jonathan keep staring at the door, poised like they’re ready to attack.“What’s it doing?” Nancy whispers to Jonathan.“I dunno,” Jonathan whispers back, and then the lights go back to normal. Nancy and Jonathan seem to relax a little, letting their weapons fall a bit, and Steve wonders if maybe he fell asleep waiting for Billy, and is simply having a nightmare. “This is crazy,” he mutters, shakes his head. “This is crazy. This is crazy!”But Billy shushes him even before Nance and Jonathan can shoot him glares. Steve frowns at him, but Billy just shakes his head, glancing at the others for half a second before he grabs Steve’s hand and squeezes. Nancy opens the door quietly and peeks out, gun first. Then Jonathan follows. Steve bites back a complaint when Billy tugs him to follow, and stays quiet like the rest as they creep back to the living room.Only when they get there to find the thing completely gone, no sign of damage to the ceiling at all, does Billy break the silence.“Alright, I don’t know what you two psychos are up to here…” His voice is low, but Steve can hear the wobble in it anyway. “I just want my sister back, alright? Then we’re out of here. We just need Max--”“Shut up!” Nancy interrupts, shoving him, and both Billy and Steve are shocked into silence for a second. “It’s going to come back,” she warns. “I don’t know where your sister is, but she’s not here.” Again Steve hears the lie in her voice, but he can’t help but agree with her when she says, “You need to leave. Right now.”“Billy, let’s go,” Steve entreats. “This is insane, and she isn’t here, we’d have found her by now…” Maybe if he can get Billy to leave with him, the nightmare will end and he’ll wake up. But Billy doesn’t budge, stands there like he’s rooted to the spot. “What aren’t you telling us, Wheeler?” “Look, just go, I don’t have time for this…” “We’re taking up too much of your time? Are you fucking kidding me?”Then the lights start flickering again. Steve feels a little sick to his stomach. “Oh my god,” he mutters. “This is insane, can’t we, can’t we call the police or something?”“Nancy!” Jonathan yells, “Do you see it?” “No, where is it?” Steve can feel Billy by his side, solid as an oak, and that’s reassuring at least, but then the lights go out for good. And all he hears is that chittery, screechy growl. “Jonathan!” Nancy yells, and the room explodes with light and sound when she shoots her gun and must hit one of the lights. She shoots again and again, and it makes Steve flinch, because she is almost shooting in their direction, Nancy could be hitting Billy, not the thing. He tries to move them to the side, and stumbles over something on the floor. The bat. He quickly reaches down for it without thinking.Behind him he hears Billy yell, and then a smash like porcelain breaking. When he looks up, Billy is backed into a corner in the kitchen, trying to get away from the advancing thing, but with the sink at his back, he has nowhere else to go. “Hey!” Steve yells at the monster, trying to get its attention, but there is no reaction -- does that thing even have ears? -- and Billy scrambles for something, anything to defend himself with, ends up hurtling dishes at the thing. But it is so close. So close already. Steve yells and swings the bat, connecting solidly with its head. That gets its attention. It turns away from Billy, at last, and Steve doesn’t have time to check if he’s hurt, if it got to him. The thing is coming after him now, and he has to give it his hardest swing just to keep it at a distance. But they are turning. Steve manages to push it away from the living room, into the hallway. Get the fuck away from him, he thinks wildly, and then there’s a metallic clang and a growly wail. “Nancy, the trap! It’s in the trap!”“Jonathan! Now!”The next thing Steve knows, Jonathan’s in front of him tossing a lighter, and the thing goes up in flames with a chittering scream that sends a shiver up Steve’s spine. Billy rejoins the group at Steve’s side as somebody pulls out a fire extinguisher and fills the whole house with nasty smoke and foam. But then the smoke clears a bit and… “Where’d it go?” Billy croaks, keeping his distance. Steve’s still on alert, bat still raised as he steps a little closer to the trap.“It has to be dead,” Jonathan says behind him, but there’s no body. Just… Steve’s skin crawls at the look and smell of seared monster flesh still caught in the trap, and he backs up again, staying by Billy.“You okay?” he whispers, glancing at him, but just then the Christmas lights that line the hall start to flash on again. Slowly this time, but still freaky. One at a time, like something’s getting closer. Steve’s heart is in his throat as he plants his feet in front of Billy.Christmas lights click on closer and closer to them, promising more freaky shit any second, but the lights pass them, and nothing happens. He glances at Nance and Jonathan. Nancy shrugs, and Jonathan isn’t looking at him. He whispers something to himself, and Steve shifts, frowning, but Jonathan just opens the front door and follows the illuminated lights out to the porch. After a second, he and Billy join them.“Anybody wanna tell us what the fuck just happened?” Billy snarls, and Steve takes his hand without thinking, squeezes it. He feels shaky, and fucking lucky to be alive. Nance and Jonathan share a glance like they’re communicating, and a shrug. “Well…” Nancy starts off slow.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Billy speeds through darkened streets with the radio turned down low so they can listen for monsters, his hands at ten and two and his eyes fucking peeled. Steve is in the passenger’s seat with Jonathan’s nail bat across his lap, right hand wrapped tight around the handle. They’re listening so hard for danger, nerves so fucking frayed, that when an ambulance rushes past them half a block from where they’re headed with a whoop from its siren, both of them jump. Even after the initial scare has worn off though, Billy’s heart feels tight in his chest and he frowns. If that thing is here for Max…“The fuck?” Steve mutters next to him as more flashing lights pass them in the wrong lane, toward the school. “Is that a fire truck?”At least the middle school still seems to be standing when Billy stops at the side of the street, in the no-parking-zone, because who gives a fuck right now? He is in such a hurry to get out that he leaves the keys in the ignition. Steve is by his side, runs with him to where people are herding together. “Max?” he calls out before he’s even come to a stop.“Over there,” Steve points towards an ambulance, and for a second Billy thinks he can see her, lifeless on a stretcher. Mauled, bloodied, with a million teeth marks. But then he sees she is actually sitting up with a pukey-green blanket around her, pale and wide-eyed, next to a couple of her friends and… Barb Holland? “Max!”“Billy?” Max jumps up and at first he thinks she is going to run away from him, because the logical consequence of him finding her here, in the middle of the night, surrounded by police, is just gonna be so much trouble. But the next moment she is throwing her arms around his middle and squeezing, hard. He doesn’t know how to handle it, really, so far off their usual relationship and with all these people standing around by them. After a second, though, Billy lets out a breath and hugs her back, half lifting her off her feet just by nature of their height difference.“Had me worried there for a minute, Mad Max,” he mutters so only she can hear, and she sniffles, pulling back and wiping her eyes furiously.“‘M fine,” she mutters, but her eyes are still glittering and she keeps close to him. Which is an oddly nice feeling. Like if another one of those things drops out of nowhere, she wants to be by his side. But when she looks at him, she starts frowning. “What happened to your head?”She reaches out to touch his brow, and, ow. That fucking stings. He hadn’t even noticed that before. He looks at Steve, confused. “Oh,” Steve says. “I think you got, with the plate, and all the shards flying around…” He makes a move to touch Billy’s forehead, too, and Billy smacks his hand away. “Cut it out. It’s nothing.” Just then one of Max’s dweeby friends comes over, his own blanket tied around his shoulders like a fucking cape.“Hey Max?” he says, glancing at Billy like he thinks he’s gonna reach over and snap him in two just for standing too close. Max lets go of Billy and steps back a little, but not as much as he’d have expected. “The Chief just radioed over to say they got him. They got Will.” The dweeb grins all wide and strangely toothless. “Nancy’s friend is gonna drive us all over to the hospital and see him, if you wanna…” He glances back at Billy uncertainly. Max does too.Billy frowns, about to tell her that even racing home now they’re about three hours late for curfew, but then both of their heads turn to the sound of Max’s mom’s voice calling out as she runs towards them.“Max?” Billy and Steve both step back a bit as Susan launches herself at her daughter, and from the beet-red of her cheeks Max wishes she could too, but she takes the hug anyway.“I was so worried when they called!” Susan says way too loud, petting Max’s hair, but eventually they pull apart and then Susan’s looking around and spotting Billy despite his best efforts. She frowns like she wants to hug him too, but thankfully keeps her distance anyway.“Thank you for looking out for her, Billy,” she says. Billy opens his mouth to explain that he didn’t, actually, but snaps it shut just as fast and shrugs. “Come on home and we’ll get you both fixed up,” Susan continues on. “That cut looks bad, sweetheart.”Billy grimaces at that, but he can’t exactly argue. It’s late. Way too late for the movies. And now that he’s thinking of it, Billy’s not sure he could stay awake for a movie at this point anyway. But…“I’ll meet you guys there,” he says. “Gotta drop Harrington off first.” And Susan looks hesitant at that, but she nods, bless her, and doesn’t say a word when Billy turns and tugs Steve back to the Camaro.The ride back to Steve’s is quiet, and Billy can feel Steve’s eyes on him the whole time like he’s worried Billy’s gonna pass out but is trying not to show it. But when he pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine, Billy doesn’t want to say goodbye.He glances over at Steve in the passenger’s seat and, though he still can’t and doesn’t want to wrap his mind around all the weird fucked up shit they saw together tonight, just seeing Steve sitting there like it’s a normal place for him to be has the blood rushing in Billy’s veins. Without a second thought he’s leaning over and pressing their lips together, snaking a hand into the back of his soft, messed up hair to deepen the kiss when Steve sighs against him. Leaning into it like a fucking lifeline.It’s still Steve who breaks away first though, looking at Billy, a bit pale and drawn in the moonlight. “Listen,” he says, and for a moment Billy worries Steve is gonna go and try talking about the shit they’ve seen tonight, the way it defied all laws of nature. And he almost asks Steve to please shut the hell up, because he doesn’t think he can cope with that right now. But Steve isn’t thinking about that, Billy realizes when he brings his fingers up to gingerly touch his face. “Maybe you should come inside, let me patch you up a little.” His touch stings a bit, but Billy doesn’t want him to stop. For a second, he wonders if his dad will be sitting at home, waiting up for him in the dark. Then he nods. “Yeah, alright.” And they don’t talk much, walking inside, leaning a little on each other as Steve fumbles with his keys and then as he locks the door behind them. A minute later he is in that downstairs bathroom where he once found a band-aid for Barb Holland, sitting on the closed toilet lid as Steve fusses over him, wondering a little how he got there while Steve’s soft voice tells Billy not to move so much, for fuck’s sake. But the light touch of his fingers is soothing, making it better, even as Billy feels like his body’s filling with lead.“Hey.” Steve is looking at him, biting his lip, and Billy worries that he’s been trying to get his attention for a while, but he doesn’t look like he has. Actually, he looks just as tired and out-of-it as Billy feels. He puts the first aid kit back under the sink and leans against the wall, glancing up at the small bathroom window. “It’s late. Maybe you should just… rest up a bit. So you don’t wrap your car around a traffic light on your way home. Y’know.”And Billy knows that is a fundamentally stupid idea, because he feels the tiredness so deep in his bones. If he even lies down a little, he’ll probably just pass out. But on the other hand, he sees the way Steve hasn’t looked settled or safe even since they got here and they’re not talking about that right now but if they were… Billy’s feeling a bit of that right now, too. Something about everything he knows about the physical universe maybe being bullshit… “Okay. Maybe I should.” He’s ready to make a beeline for the couch they passed on the way in here, but Steve drags him up the stairs, instead. Into his bedroom. And it’s still kinda mind-boggling, the trophies, the furniture, the fucking plaid. Being where the magic is supposed to happen, after all this time. But it also makes his skin itch a bit, especially when Steve immediately goes to pull off his own shirt.“I can’t--” Billy starts, and feels himself start to blush, it feels fucking weird saying something like this. To Steve, no less. But, “I don’t think I could even fucking get it up right now,” he mumbles. “Just so you-- in case you-- I can leave. It’s alright…”He’s turned away now, feeling foolish, but Steve’s bare chest presses against his back then as his arms wrap around him from behind and it makes him jump a little but it feels too good to resist.“Me too,” Steve mutters back, against his shoulder, and it sounds half like a laugh. It makes Billy want to kiss him but in a slow, warm, comforting way. So he does. Over his shoulder and then turning so they’re face to face. After a while Steve pulls them apart and gives Billy’s jacket a tug, though. “You wanna get out of this stuff before you get in the bed?” Billy nods and leans back into another kiss, helping him strip them both.They take off their dusty shoes, wiggle out of their pants, strip all the way down to underwear and then crawl into Steve’s clean bed. The sheets are cool and soft, smell like Steve. Billy lies down flat on his face with a groan half to make Steve laugh, and feels heat in his veins when it works like a charm. Then Steve slips an arm around him from behind though, wraps himself around Billy’s body like a vine around a tree, and Billy melts. He can feel Steve’s breath slowing down against his ear as they settle in together. Lets their fingers intertwine on his stomach. “Hey,” he says, and his voice sounds sleepy even to his own ears. A little far away. Like he’s already halfway to being passed out. “Hm?” Steve answers, muffled and warm against his skin.There aren’t enough words in the world for all the shit he’s feeling right now, though, so instead of trying to say it, Billy settles heavily back into him and lets his eyes fall fully closed, bringing Steve’s hand up to his lips for a quick kiss. That’ll have to cover some of it, for now.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“It’s crap, I know.” Steve’s fingers drum the steering wheel of the BMW. He looks out the window, glances back at Billy, who is reading through his essay, frowning. Every second of silence feels like agony. Then Billy puts the paper down, looks him square in the eyes. “Yeah, babe, it really is.”Steve groans and bangs his head against the wheel. “Fuck.”“I mean, I can help you salvage it, if you want,” Billy offers, still rifling through the two handwritten pages like there’s any more to see. “I’d rather just take this home tonight and rewrite it for you, though. Writing is really not your strong suit. This thing makes you sound like even more of a preppy asshole than you actually are, and I didn’t think that was possible.”And sure, most of that is not complimentary, but still Steve feels a cautious smile tugging on his lips when he sits back upright. “You’d do that for me?” he asks. “What happened to ‘I don’t cheat’?” But far from smirking back like he normally would, Billy shrugs and glances out at the high school parking lot through the front window. “I just want you to get into college, alright?” he says, and then clears his throat. “This college,” he elaborates.“You want me to get into Berkeley,” Steve presses, raising an eyebrow a little. But he thinks maybe he knows where this is going, and it makes his internal organs do little flips.“Yeah, I mean…” Billy huffs. “The Bay Area’s nice. You should get to see it.”“Right,” Steve nods, and his smile can’t be suppressed anymore. “Is that the only reason, then?” He lets his hand drop down to touch Billy’s wrist, almost by accident. An innocuous gesture to anyone who might chance to look their way. Billy glances over and turns his palm up to slot their fingers together for a second before he pulls away.“Not the only reason, no,” he admits, but beyond that he still hesitates. Steve prods him a little further.“So are you applying there, too?” he asks. Billy glances up at him through his lashes for a long time before nodding.“We could be neighbors,” he suggests. “No more sneaking around… I just don’t want you to forget about this pretty face when I’m gone, y’know?” he jokes.Steve snorts. But his stomach still feels a little tingly. “Berkeley, though,” he says with a sigh. “Gonna be hard, right? What am I gonna do if I actually get in?”“Hm,” Billy seems to think. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe you should apply somewhere easier, then.” He’s only half teasing, but Steve doesn’t have a chance to even mind when the next words out of his lips are, “Cause I mean it, baby. I want you within a day’s drive of wherever I end up.”Steve purses his lips at the sound of that, though. “Nah, that’s not gonna work for me,” he says.“Oh?” Billy watches him, expression carefully neutral. “Yeah, you think I’m gonna spend four years a day’s drive away from you? You better get us both the fuck into Berkeley.”“Oh.” Billy’s face breaks into a smile that Steve can tell he’s trying his hardest and failing to rein in. “There’s some really good scholarships there, too,” he mumbles, like he thinks Steve needs another reason to get why he wants this. And Steve wants to lean in and kiss him so bad, but he’s good at resisting that urge by now — constant as it is — so he leans back in his seat and lets his knee come up to rest against Billy’s thigh instead with a grin.“If you say so,” he says, and Billy grins back at him, too.