Billy & Steve | Teen & Up | 1003 words
2400 words all up
Billy Hargrove is soft for Steve Harrington, Billy and Max are good siblings
Square: A3 - The Party approves for @billyhargrovebingo
Summary:
Steve knows he should let go of Billy’s hands but he can’t. There’s this force inside him that keeps pulling him closer and closer to Billy and he’s tired of fighting it.
Read on Ao3
(chapter 1)
***
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Sorry. Just needed a minute.”
Steve knows he should let go of Billy’s hands but he can’t. There’s this force inside him that keeps pulling him closer and closer to Billy and he’s tired of fighting it.
If he’s honest with himself, it started on the first day he saw Billy on the carpark at school, then things got messy between Nancy dumping him and that fight with Billy at Will’s house. Billy keeping his distances after that made Steve how much he’d been relying on the other teen’s attention. Now they’re on speaking terms, almost friends, really, unless Steve does something stupid. Like kiss the guy. Because he wants to. God, he wants to.
Billy’s eyes match the blue of the sky today, and Steve can’t help the way he stares when Billy’s tongue swipes his lower lip.
Steve isn’t even aware he took a step and let go of Billy’s hands until he’s standing so impossibly close his hands are on Billy’s hips and he can feel Billy’s breath on his cheek.
“Harr—”
Steve bridges the gap and presses his lips to Billy’s mouth, before the enormity of what he’s doing hits him like a ton of bricks and he pulls back, his hands letting go like he got burnt, his eyes looking anywhere but at the boy he just kissed.
“Oh fuck.” Steve touches his lips and Billy mirrors his gesture. His face is bright pink and his eyes are wide in shock. Steve can’t believe he actually did it. He kissed Billy Hargrove.
When Billy still doesn’t move, Steve starts to freak out.
“Please, don’t punch me.” The whispered words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and he watches Billy recoil against the minivan.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says, knowing how it sounds and hating himself for the way it makes Billy’s demeanor instantly change.
“D-Don’t worry about it, pretty boy. I know how irresistible I am.” The words are the usual cocky statement but Steve can hear how Billy’s voice wobbles slightly at the start.
He moves closer again, one gloved hand coming up to cup Billy’s face. “I’m sorry about what I said, not about what I did.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
“In that case…” Billy moves off the minivan, one arm banding around Steve’s waist while his other hand slides into Steve’s hair, fingers gripping tightly as Billy pulls Steve to him, bodies and mouths slotting perfectly against each other.
Steve feels the tip of Billy’s tongue along the seam of his lips and he opens his mouth to let the other boy in, his soft moan getting swallowed. Steve has kissed, and been kissed, before but this is different. Better. Billy kisses him with his whole body, holding him close, plundering Steve’s mouth with that tongue of his, making Steve wish they were in his bedroom instead of a snowy old junkyard with a bunch of kids.
They break the kiss when they’re both out of breath, freezing when they hear a twig snap a moment later. They immediately duck below the minivan’s windows, feeling way too exposed. Their hands find each other, their fingers entwined as they listen for more noise, then they start moving towards the front of the van so they can have a look at the lay of the land.
Steve spots El hiding behind a green sedan missing two doors and Billy quietly gets his attention to point to Will not doing a very good job at staying hidden next to a mustard-colored wreck further along on their right.
They hear another twig snap and decide to make a run for it before their position is untenable. It could be Max fucking around with them but it’s more likely to be Lucas or Dustin, both of which Steve knows for a fact take snowball fights very seriously.
“You go first, I’ll cover you,” Steve whispers to Billy who nods before he takes off at full speed towards El. Steve watches him throw a snowball at Will, hitting his target, before he dives into the green sedan, startling El.
Steve hazards a glance behind him as he starts running away from the minivan, noticing a flash of color behind a tree a few feet away and he ducks behind a mound of compact snow a second before a couple of balls hit it.
He’s busy making snowballs as fast as he can, crouching low, glancing up every so often to see Dustin and Lucas advancing on him.
“Fuck.”
He hears a solid twack then Max’s laugh so he figures she hit Lucas. He looks up and throws a couple of balls towards Dustin who manages to avoid them only to get hit from the side by Max who runs to
El.
“Where the fuck are you, Wheeler?” Steve mutters under his breath. He stands up to look beyond the pile of snow and spots Mike the moment the gangly teenager sees him. Mike is holding two balls and Steve has none left.
Mike takes aim. Steve hears “Pretty boy, duck!” a second before Billy tackles him into the snow, Mike’s snowball hitting the spot he was standing in front of a second ago.
“Oh come on!” Mike groans when El hits him with her own, her happy laugh ringing loudly in the clearing.
“You okay?” Billy asks, his arms still around Steve, his strong body pressed against Steve.
Steve nods. The chatter of the teenagers becomes background noise when Billy looks at him and Steve wraps his arms around Billy’s shoulders.
“Thanks for saving me, Billy,” he whispers.
“Anything for you, pretty boy,” Billy replies, giving him a quick peck.
Steve goes after him but someone clearing their throat stops him. He looks up to find the six teenagers standing in a circle around them.
Dustin is looking shocked. Lucas looks like he’s trying not to laugh and Max is smirking.
Ch1 - Snow gear is not color-coded for Billy Hargrove
Billy & Steve | Teen & Up | 1397 words
Billy Hargrove is soft for Steve Harrington, Billy and Max are good siblings
Square: B3 - Snowball fight for @billyhargrovebingo
Summary:
“Come ooooon. It snowed again! ! Today is gonna be so much fun.”
“Leave me the fuck alone, Max. It’s too fucking cold.”
“Steve is gonna be there…”
Billy hates that Max knows that will work, hates that he is weak when it comes to Harrington but he doesn’t hate that Max knows.
Read on Ao3
***
“Come on, Billy! Get up!”
Billy groans and burrows further under his blanket. He’s fully dressed in bed, wearing his warmest jumper and he’s still cold because Neil refuses to spend money on anything warmer, Billy can just toughen up apparently.
Max won’t relent. “Come ooooon. It snowed again! ! Today is gonna be so much fun.”
“Leave me the fuck alone, Max. It’s too fucking cold.”
“Steve is gonna be there…”
Billy hates that Max knows that will work, hates that he is weak when it comes to Harrington but he doesn’t hate that Max knows. It’s been good, rebuilding something with Max. After last November at the Byers, he stayed away, kept his distance like he’d been ordered, took Max to school and brought her home before curfew and stayed in his lane. Then, after Christmas, he’d noticed she was trying to be friends again. He’d let her, because he was lonely as fuck and he had no one in this godforsaken town. Max was family, as fucked up as theirs was, and being close again like they were in Cali felt right.
He groans again because fuck it’s cold, and sits up, still wrapped in his blanket. He has a warmer one in the Camaro but he doesn’t want Neil to find it because the asshole will take it and then Billy will surely freeze to death next time dear old Dad kicks him out of the house.
Max is still babbling about the day, her excitement palpable. Billy is glad Neil took Susan to Indianapolis for the weekend.
“I’m up, I’m up. Can you quit your yappin’, I got a headache.”
“Steve is bringing a jacket for you so you don’t freeze to death.”
“What?” Billy stares. No way Max said what he thinks she said.
“Don’t worry, I told him we come from Cali and we don’t have snow stuff. He rolled his eyes and everything. He’s bringing me one as well. He’s got, like, twenty winter jackets at his house, and he also said he’s bringing snow boots. I’m so excited!”
“Oh my fucking god, Maxine.” Billy was dying for a smoke but reaching for his packet of cigarettes meant taking his arm out of the blanket and he wasn’t ready for that.
“I made you coffee and I got you Steve, you can’t be mad at me.” Max smiles tentatively at him, still looking a bit unsure.
“Try me,” Billy says, but there is no bite in his tone. They hear a car stop outside and stare at each other for a moment.
“Your boyfriend’s here…” Max sing-songs as she steps away from Billy’s doorway to go answer the door.
“I’m gonna kill you, Max!”
“Whatever!” she calls from the front of the house.
Shaking his head, he gets off his bed and makes his way to the kitchen, keeping an ear out for voices. The rest of the house is warmer than his bedroom as usual.
The footsteps are getting close and Billy turns around from pouring his coffee to take in Max and their visitor.
Billy is glad he wasn’t sipping his coffee because he would have choked on it.
Harrington is wearing a dark purple parka and stiff looking black pants. His hair is standing up, like he’s been running his hands through it a lot, and Billy can see snowflakes stuck in his hair and on his eyelashes.
He looks good enough to eat and Billy is starving.
“Hey Billy, you about ready to go?” Harrington asks and Billy can’t help return his smile. He is quick to hide it behind his cup.
“Yeah, just need to power up first,” he replies, taking a sip of his coffee, only for it to go down the wrong way when Max walks in with her arms full of colorful garments and dumps them on the table.
Harrington rushes over in a flash, prying Billy’s cup out of his hand and setting it on the counter before rubbing Billy’s back while he coughs and tries to get his breath back. Max just stares and Billy is sure there’s a smirk on her face but he’s too busy trying not to die to pay close attention.
Once the crisis is over, Billy walks over to Max to look at what she brought in and turns to Harrington. The look on his face must be enough because Harrington puts both hands up and laughs.
“I’m sorry, man, I am not in charge of fashion design. I bought what I thought would fit from what I found at home.”
“Thank you, Steve,” Max says when Billy is still glaring at the vivid colors. “We are very grateful. I, for one, would rather not freeze to death.”
With a long sigh, Billy follows suit and looks through the stuff Harrington brought over and picks the darkest jacket he can find, it’s emerald green with a black trim. The only pair of pants that fits him is turquoise and he draws the line there. If he dies, so be it.
Once the siblings are all set, they follow Harrington to the front porch where he left the snow boots. At least there the colors are more muted and Billy doesn’t have to compromise.
They agree to meet at the old junkyard and Harrington leaves to pick up Henderson, Wheeler and Baby Byers while Billy and Max go get El and Sinclair.
Billy is still dying for a smoke but Max made him promise to not smoke in the car when the windows are up and it’s too cold to have them down. He can still feel the warmth of Harrington’s hand on his back.
Soon they’re all getting out of their respective cars and trying to decide on teams. The kids keep arguing about who should be on whose team and Billy tunes them out, he is pretty sure they don’t want him here anyway. He has made his peace with Sinclair and they’re on friendlier terms than the other boys probably know, but that doesn’t mean Billy is welcome to group events like these.
Billy leans against the Camaro, and gets his packet of Marlboro Reds from the pocket of his parka. He takes a long drag on his cigarette, a small moan of pleasure escaping his throat when he feels the nicotine hit he’s been craving and feels eyes on him. He looks up and Harrington is staring right at him.
Billy takes another drag, his chest warming up when the big brown eyes drop to his mouth before flicking away. He knows better than to think it means anything.
“Right!” Harrington says loudly, cutting through the chatter. “You four,” he makes a circle encompassing the four teenage boys, “against me, Billy, and the girls.”
The boys immediately start complaining, while Max and El make their way to Billy and start discussing strategy. When Harrington joins them a minute later, the boys are nowhere to be seen. Billy shakes his head.
“Oh, Harrington, I don’t think that was a good idea, there is no way this team of misfits can beat four teenagers boys born and bred in the snow.”
“Steve is a teenage boy born and bred in the snow,” Max pipes up, El nodding her agreement and Billy chuckles.
“Unless one of you came over earlier and prepared a stack of snowballs, I don’t see how we’re gonna win this thing.”
“It’s about having fun, Billy,” Steve says, leaning on the car next to him and bumping shoulders with him. Steve leans closer until Billy can fell his hot breath against his ear. “Besides I know where the boys hid the stash they made yesterday after school.”
“Oooh, Harrington, devious. I like it.”
They split in two groups, the girls going one way while Billy follows Harrington around the edges of the junkyard. They hide behind a minivan and Harrington shows Billy how to make the optimum snowball. He puts his gloved hands around Billy’s to show him how to pack the snowball until it’s compact enough.
Billy leans against the minivan and closes his eyes to focus on his breathing before he does something stupid. Like kiss the guy.
“Billy?” Harrington whispers, his voice tinged with concern. “Hargrove. You okay?” He squeezes Billy’s hands again.
Billy slowly opens his eyes, only then realizing how close Harrington’s face is to his.
Ch1 - All he has to offer is a banged-up Camaro and a lot of trauma
Billy & Steve | Teen & Up | 567 words
Dirty Dancing Au, No Upside Down, TW Neil Hargrove
Square: C2 - Dirty Dancing AU for @billyhargrovebingo
Summary:
The Hargrove-Mayfield family is spending the summer at Harrington's Family Resort.
Billy is counting the days until he's free from his father's claws and he meets a dance instructor he just can't stay away from.
Not even when Neil Finds out.
Read on Ao3
***
Billy gritted his teeth. His evening was getting steadily worse. As if spending a month in this stupid vacation resort in the middle of Bumfuck, Indiana, with his asshole of a father, his new wife and her golden child wasn’t enough already…
Now he had to contend with his old man finding out he’d been kinda seeing one of the dance instructors. Because the walls were so thin in the cabin, he’d managed to avoid the full-on beating he could see floating in his father’s beady eyes but the vile words still rang in his ears.
He moved in his chair, lessening the pressure on the side with the bruise and took a sip of the water he’d been allowed to have. No fancy mocktails for the undeserving brat… Max kept glancing at him every time she sucked on the straw of her colourful whatever-the-fuck-it-was-called, guilt plain on her face. Billy didn’t have the energy to tell her it wasn’t her fault his father hated him. She was sitting on the end of the table while he was stuck in the corner between Father Dearest and meek Susan who always did her damnedest to look away.
He was only vaguely aware of the festivities happening that night, though he knew Max had some part in it. She was wearing a glittery dress her mother had forced her to wear, much to Billy’s secret delight. He knew how much Max hated wearing dresses.
“Good evening campers! I’m Deliah Harrington and I trust you are all having a good time with us this summer at Harrington’s.”
Billy looked up to see a woman who looked somewhat familiar standing in the middle of the stage. She had brown hair and big brown eyes and she was holding a microphone. Billy noticed that Max was now also on the stage along with a bunch of the staff. She was standing on the far end, looking less than enthused.
They started singing, mostly off-key, and Billy did his utmost to keep a straight face, he didn’t want another snide remark from his father or another sneaky punch… He took his time looking at all the faces, but Steve and his crew were nowhere to be seen. Billy wasn’t sure whether it was their choice or management’s decision.
He hadn’t seen Steve since the night before when his father had wrenched the door open and dragged him out after delivering some choice words to Steve. The dance instructor had been shaking with anger but had managed to not punch Neil Hargrove, and Billy was in awe of the man he had been calling his boyfriend in the safety of his own mind.
He didn’t delude himself that they had a future outside of Harrington’s and the summer. All he had to offer was a banged-up Camaro and a lot of trauma.
Unbeknownst to Neil, Billy had secured a scholarship to UC San Diego. He’d lied to Neil about which school he’d been accepted at to throw him off the scent, and brokered a deal that he was allowed to go as long as he spent the summer with Neil, Susan and Max on their family holiday.
Billy had been counting the days since his birthday, knowing that turning eighteen would never be reason enough for Neil to let him go. God forbid anyone found out the Hargrove-Mayfields were less than a perfect family.
Enemies to Lovers, College AU, Billy Hargrove is a Little Shit
Square: A1 - Hate Sex for @billyhargrovebingo
Present for @shieldofiron (because she's amazing and the title was her idea)
Summary:
Steve still can’t fucking believe he’s willingly standing in Hargrove’s dorm room. Somehow, because they’re alphabet buddies, Professor Byers decided it was a good idea to pair them up for an assignment. Hargrove has a brain for English Lit apparently, while Steve is close to failing the class, so yeah.
Read on Ao3
***
Steve still can’t fucking believe he’s willingly standing in Hargrove’s dorm room. Somehow, because they’re alphabet buddies, Professor Byers decided it was a good idea to pair them up for an assignment. Hargrove has a brain for English Lit apparently, while Steve is close to failing the class, so yeah.
Ugh.
And, yes, fine, Hargrove is put together like a Greek God, with blue eyes and bouncy curls, the tightest ass ever seen on a man, and a chiseled chest the asshole likes to show off by keeping his shirts undone to his belly button… Steve’s not blind, okay? But Hargrove’s also as obnoxious as he’s hot and he’s got it in for Steve—constantly berating him for his low grades and stupid answers in class. Steve can’t fucking stand him.
“You brought your book?” the dickhead asks him as soon as he steps into the room.
“Of course, I brought the book,” Steve replies, closing the door before getting his copy of The Portrait of Dorian Gray out of his bag, along with a notebook and a pen.
Steve settles at the desk while Hargrove reclines on the bed with his back to the wall, and they get to work. Steve is doing his best to remember the plot and tries really hard to give ideas for the essay, but writing really isn’t his strong point, even less so than reading.
He internally curses his brain and Robin for tricking him into taking this class. Even with Hargrove’s reluctant help, he has no chance to pass, especially when he keeps getting distracted by the douchebag’s posters, mostly metal bands he’s never heard of.
About an hour in, Steve remembers something.
“Oh I know this, he falls in love with an actress. Told you I read the book.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Tell you what though, Dorian Gray has a bit more interesting tastes in partners in Penny Dreadful. That Ethan Chandler... Damn.”
Steve tries to process this new information, blurting out, “You're gay?” and immediately regretting it when Hargrove’s face turns to stone and he glares at Steve.
“I don't like labels, Steven.” Hargrove snaps his book shut before and stands up from the bed. “You know what, I think that’s enough for one day. You should go.”
Taken aback, Steve goes with it and packs his stuff. It’s fine; he’s got work later anyway. “I’ll see you later, I guess. I’m sorry, didn’t mean anything by it.”
For my A2 Square “Huddling for Warmth” for @billyhargrovebingo 💙 I made these two sims a while back and haven't really had the chance to show them off in any way, so here we go.
"Take me into your loving arms, kiss me under the light of a thousand stars, place your head on my beating heart. I'm thinking out loud, maybe we found love right where we are."
A/N: For my A3 square “Wet Dream” for @billyhargrovebingo. As always, a big homie smooch to @writer-in-theory for being the best.
Follow me on my main: @serenity-lattes
IF YOU CLICK “KEEP READING” YOU ARE ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YOU ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE AND ARE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE.
It had been an ordinary day- wake up, eat breakfast, go to school, come home and do homework, workout, eat dinner, and go to bed. Nothing different happened that could trigger such a dream, yet here was Billy, writhing under the far too thin and scratchy blanket. Truth be told, had he jerked off in the shower like he normally did after dinner, he probably could have avoided this, but it was a bit too late for that now.
A hand pushed Billy so he was on his back before hovering over him. “You are the single most gorgeous thing,” they murmured, tipping his head down to kiss Billy hungrily, hand reaching down to slide his boxers off.
The chestnut hair that was styled perfectly should have been a dead giveaway, but Billy had always been in denial. He couldn’t possibly dream about him. He was an asshole. A shady one with too many secrets, at that. There’s no way in hell Billy could ever have that kind of dream, let alone about-
The person pulled back, using both hands to carefully pull Billy’s boxers down before tossing them aside carelessly. They settled between his legs, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and chest. Just because, they sucked a love bite on the edge of his collarbone. “Seriously, were you hand crafted by the gods?” they murmured, hands caressing the dips and curves on Billy’s torso as they slowly got lower and lower. Once their face was level with Billy’s crotch, they looked up, all too familiar hazel eyes framed by stunning lashes peering up into his own.
Of course, it was Steve fucking Harrington. God damn it.
Steve took his cock in his hand and spit on it, pumping it slowly. “Knew you were gonna be thick,” he smirked, licking the tip, eyes boring into Billy’s as his cock sprung to life, “Had to only steal glances of it from the showers, but it’s even better when it’s hard.”
In the midst of it all, Billy’s own hand had slid underneath the covers and he began palming at himself, seeking relief from the dream that was haunting his mind and body.
Steve took Billy into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks a bit to provide the best sensation. Bobbing his head slowly at first, his other hand came up to trail over whatever he could reach, caressing Billy, cherishing him the way he deserved. He hummed around Billy’s cock, lapping up every drop of precum, and flickered his gaze upwards to watch Billy, cheeks red and eyes half-lidded.
In his bed, Billy wasn’t faring much better. His cheeks were just as red and his lower lip was pink and puffy from biting at it.
Steve moaned around Billy, winking at him as he sucked him off. He felt quite proud of the fact that Billy was this affected by him.
Or Billy wanted him to. But he’d never admit to that.
He gently massaged Billy’s balls before trailing his hand up to stroke what he couldn’t fit into his mouth. Pulling off of Billy a little, a trail of spit from his pink lips to Billy’s cock, “I want to hear you, don’t hold back on me now,” his voice was a little raspier than usual and he took Billy in his mouth again. This time, he doubled down and bobbed his head a little faster, his other hand running up Billy’s chest. Steve was a little greedy and used his free hand to brush his fingertips along Billy’s nipple, wanting to see the man writhe underneath him, become a mess.
All the moaning Billy was doing in his dream thankfully hadn’t translated over. He was breathing heavily or he let out the occasional grunt. Finally wrapping a hand around his cock, he began stroking in time with what Steve was doing in his dream.
Billy got himself somewhat together sitting up to take Steve's hand, leading it up to his mouth to suck on his fingers with that shit-eating grin he always seemed to wear. Hopefully he didn't have to say anything for Steve to get the hint of what he wanted, what would have his toes curling.
Watching Billy suck on his fingers was obscene and had Steve’s pupils blown more than a joint ever could. After a few moments, he took his hand back and gently circled a fingertip along Billy’s rim before slowly sliding a finger inside him. Billy was impossibly tight and looked incredible, lips parting as he let out a delicious moan.
It wasn’t fair, feeling this good in a dream when he couldn’t have it when he woke up. No, Steve dated perfect people like that little Nancy Wheeler chick. Billy wasn’t perfect. He had a messy, convoluted life and too much baggage for anyone to take on.
After giving Billy’s body enough time to adjust, he began to pump his finger in and out of Billy. It would be a little easier if they had lube, but that there was always next time. Billy's eyes pinched for only a second before he relaxed into the feeling of Steve's finger, this was so much better than anything he had done to himself in the last few months. Steve finally took Billy’s cock to the hilt and hollowed his cheeks again, using his tongue on the underside to give him any and every sensation possible.
He had never moaned quite this much during sex, but he was in such a state of euphoria as Steve treated him like he was a fucking god. His hand moved straight to his hair, and it was softer than he imagined, tugging at it, "Steve… S-Steve... fuck... cumming". He could barely fucking breathe, back arched his toes curled, moaning loudly as he came quicker than he had wanted.
Unfortunately when cum had covered his hand and stomach, Billy’s eyes snapped open. It was a dream. Steve Harrington touching him was a dream. Of course it was. Squeezing his eyes shut, he used his clean hand to push his curls off his now sweaty forehead.
“God fucking damn it,” he huffed, kicking the blanket off himself, needing to go clean up.
Ship(s): None (just Billy bonding with his new friend the demodog)
Major Tags: Homesickness, loneliness, underage drinking, mentions of animal cruelty, implied/referenced child abuse
Additional Tags: billy finds a demodog and thinks it's just a weird dog, and befriends it
Summary:
Billy meets a dog at the junk yard.
It's a weird dog. Big, hairless, deformed - the thing doesn't even have a face - but Billy doesn't want to go home and the dog doesn't seem to mind him being there, at least not after he feeds it.
So he comes back. Feeds it again. Keeps it company.
He names the dog Pal.
Unfortunately this round's sign-ups are closed and is soon coming to an end. The schedule for the next round will be posted as soon as it is decided and we will reopen sign-ups then.
My second to last entry for Billy Hargrove Bingo! @billyhargrovebingo
Explicit
2.8k
In k'áatech
Billy misses sleeping in the sun.
The feeling of basking in heat and letting the rays turn his unblemished skin from white to brown. His body used to tan so well. He knows it’s because of that one quarter’s worth of Mexican blood, from his mom’s mom, that Neil used to always sneer at and force Billy to deny.
He misses his grandmother, Josefa, or “Wella Chepa” as he called her. It’s a longing ache for family and peace that he lost when his mother left. Billy wonders what his grandmother would have had to say if she was still alive when his mother did what she did. The woman had died of heart disease when he was eight. Both he and his mother had been devastated. Billy knows in his soul that his grandmother would have never let Mary abandon her son. Even now, he wonders how much guilt his mother lives with, or if she feels any at all.
“Hey,” Steve runs a hand through his sweaty curls, “I lost you.”
Billy leaves his thoughts. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I miss sleeping in the sun.”
“My sweet Cali boy,” Steve says with so much affection, brushing a kiss to his lips, “if we ever fucking find this place you’ve been going on about, maybe we can take a nap.”
“It shouldn’t be much longer; I don’t think.”
It’s quiet in the woods these days.
That hasn’t stopped the paranoia, per se. Hawkins isn’t the upside down, but the ill-feeling still lingers. It doesn’t help that the small town still looks like a former shell of itself in Vecna’s aftermath. Both Billy and Steve have a bad habit of constantly looking out for things lurking between the trees. It’s like the smell of death, rot, and bleach, is permanently singed into Billy’s nostrils every time he breathes in. It’s all in his head of course, but it doesn’t make the stench any less strong.
He’s working on it, learning to speak up and express the trauma that he’s been through. So is Steve. Billy hadn’t seen it in his boyfriend, at first. Steve always seemed untouchable, unaffected. But he suffered like Billy. The older boy was just better at hiding it. Good at excusing it, explaining it away, or never even addressing it at all. How could Billy have realized there was something wrong with him? Both of them held onto that toxic trait of masculinity bestowed by their fathers, assuming that their behavior was normal. It was all a part of being a real man. Don’t speak out about your feelings. Don’t cause anyone else problems. But they’ve got each other now. Billy, who everyone thought had died, but came back, crawling out of the upside down and saving all of them like he did on the floor of Starcourt. And Steve, always resilient, despite constantly being knocked down, whether it was democreatures or Russians.
The two of them understand each other best.
It wasn’t always easy. There were plenty of fights over not opening up and communicating, but they’re trying to do better. Billy’s relationship with Steve has become the most important thing in his entire life; he couldn’t risk losing him. He’s never felt this way about anyone before. They’ve been together about two years now, and they’ve broken up and gotten back together a time or two; it’s been messy and hard, but each time, their relationship is weaved just a little tighter together, after they’ve unmade one another and broke each other’s hearts first.
Billy has never felt such unconditional love before.
Steve is it for him.
And he’s told Billy the same. And that more than anything, Steve wants to spend the rest of their lives together, actually living. He doesn’t want them to be frightened of their past. Steve doesn’t want them to stay stuck in their heads. Billy gets it. He would have rather died on the floor of Starcourt than be stuck reliving the past.
It’s July fourth, and the sun is beating down heavily, and they want to make new memories on this day. They’re walking, sweaty hand in sweaty hand, through the Hawkins woods. Billy wanted time away from their well-meaning, but nosy friends, that were constantly in their faces. Semi-adults who are always full of concern for both of them, and teenagers that care, but want to take more from them, than give, because they’re teenagers and only really care about themselves at that age.
The two of them needed time just for them, especially today. And Billy had heard about a dense alcove in the middle of the woods, by Joyce, of all people, and he was determined to find it. It was supposed to have a little meadow with its own waterhole full of fresh water, and it was somewhere in the middle of the northern side of the Hawkins woods.
“Baby, we’ve been walking for hours.”
“It’s literally been forty-five minutes.” Billy looks at him drolly.
“It’s so hot. I’m a midwesterner; I’m not made for this kind of heat.”
“It’s hardly over eighty-five degrees, Steven.”
Billy catches his eye and sees how Steve glowers at him. He doesn’t laugh, even though Steve’s skin has turned a bright pink, knowing it’ll probably result in a nasty sunburn. His hair has lost its volume, and is a floppy coif hanging over his eyes, but Billy can’t help but think he’s sexy anyway.
Steve huffs, “fine, but I’m still melting over here—”
“Listen,” Billy hushes him, and he hears the rush of water coming from somewhere, “we’re close.”
He tugs on Steve’s hand, pushing through a thicket of trees. They reach the clearing and are met with an ethereal landscape; there’s an isolated pond of fresh water that’s surrounded by trees, plush grass, and pretty wildflowers.
“Oh,” Steve sighs, “I take my complaints back.”
Billy grins mischievously, “worth it now, huh?” Steve nods enthusiastically. “Better than Skull fucking Rock.”
“Hey! We have great memories at that place! You certainly weren’t complaining the last time I dragged you over there, and I bent you over the—”
“Clothes on or off?” Billy interrupts, and motions towards the water with a nod of his head.
Steve bites his lip before looking at the water and smiling slyly, “definitely off.”
They drop the bags, cooler, and picnic basket they brought, underneath an overhanging tree, and they start stripping what little clothes they have on, peeling off socks and shoes and racing towards the water. Steve tangles his hand with Billy’s just before they throw themselves in the pond, hollering and laughing as they hit the water. It has a clear view to the bottom, and it’s just deep enough that they can stand on their tiptoes, and their heads rest just above the waterline. It cools Billy’s skin, and he sighs in relief as he watches Steve float on his back, kicking out and swimming. Billy imitates him; the two of them like a Yin and Yang, swimming in circles.
“I think I was a fish in another life,” Billy says suddenly.
Steve barks a laugh, breaking their circle and reaching out for Billy. He pulls him close, and Billy immediately wraps himself around Steve; his smile smug as he looks at his boyfriend.
“You what?”
“A fish—I think I was a fish. I was just always meant for water.” Steve looks at him in bemusement. “You’ve never thought about that? What you might’ve been in another life?”
“What do you think I’d have been?”
“Tiny frog.” Billy says immediately.
“Seriously?! A frog?!”
“A tiny frog. They’re cute,” Billy shrugs, “they got lean bodies, long legs, and bug eyes.”
“I do not have bug eyes.”
“No, I guess not. You’ve got doe eyes, though. Maybe you’d be a deer. But then we couldn’t be together.
“So, you would rather that I was a tiny frog?”
“Yeah, if you were a frog, you’d still be close to me. You and I would hang out around a pond like this.”
“Why can’t I be a fish like you?”
“Well, we’re not very much alike, are we?” Steve shrugs at him. “But we can always exist together, can’t we, baby?”
“Why can’t we be different fishes?”
Billy considers the question, and he suddenly remembers the mythology his grandmother used to share with him as a little boy. “My grandmother’s ancestors were Mayans. In ancient Mayan culture, frogs symbolized luck and fortune. Meanwhile, fish represented the cycle of life and death.”
“You’re talking in metaphors, aren’t you?” Billy nods, leaning in and kissing his cheek. Steve laughs, turning his head and pecking Billy on the lips instead. “So, I’m a symbol of luck, and you’re a symbol of life and death?”
“It’s kinda our lives, isn’t it? You’ve nearly died countless times, but your lucky ass always survived. Meanwhile, I’ve lived, died, and been reborn…”
Steve cackles, “okay, Jesus. You’re really silly sometimes; you know that?”
Billy grins, keeping his legs wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist and leaning away to float on his back. Steve keeps swimming them around the water until they’re both pruny, tugging Billy through the weightless water. It’s Billy that eventually tires out and drags Steve out of the pond. They lay out the big blanket they brought, falling on it under the shade of the tree. Steve’s hand finds Billy’s over the blanket as they lay on the flat of their backs, looking up at the overhanging tree above them.
Wildlife sings, the chirps of birds and insects, the soft breeze in the air tangling around the wildflowers. It’s peaceful, and Billy knows they won’t leave here until the sun almost falls. Even then, they’ll drive around the country roads until they’re sure the fireworks in town are over, and Billy doesn’t have to hear them. He doesn’t have to think—have to remember about the last time he’d seen or heard fireworks. They’ve done something like this for the past two years. Billy knows it’s a bigger problem that he has yet to unpack and deal with, but the solutions they’ve created are working for right now...
“I’ve lost you again.” Steve murmurs in his ear.
“No,” Billy turns his head and sees Steve turned onto his side. He’s resting on his elbow, looking down at Billy. “I’m right here, baby.”
Steve’s hand traces over the gnarled scars in the center of Billy’s chest. The puckered skin has nerve damage, and it’s permanently numb from feeling. But the fact that Steve has never looked at the scars in disgust, rather fascination and desire, has always brought Billy to his knees.
Billy doesn’t have to feel Steve to know that he’s rubbing the ruined skin with reverence. And it’s when his hand travels lower, to the part of his body that’s still very much alive, that Billy’s stomach trembles, and his breath catches in his throat.
“In k'áatech.” Billy rolls the old phrase off of his tongue.
“What’s that mean?”
“I love you. It’s how my grandma used to say the words.”
“That’s beautiful. I love you too.” Steve says easily.
Billy laughs, reaching up and tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. Billy tugs him close, letting the words between them linger, as he kisses him deeply. Steve climbs on top of him, and Billy groans at the strong weight of his boyfriend. He parts his thighs, letting Steve fit himself between them. Their skin is cool and damp from the water, but Billy feels himself heating up quickly as Steve’s hands grow restless, and he kneads them into Billy’s skin.
“Show me.” Billy sighs as Steve’s mouth travels down his jaw, to his neck, licking up the rivulets of water resting on his skin. “Show me how you love me, Steve.”
His boyfriend hums, and it sounds both cocky and delighted at the prospect. Billy loves how sure Steve is when it comes to satisfying Billy, just as much as he loves actually being satisfied by Steve. His boyfriend’s mouth travels lower, along Billy’s chest, kissing down the unfeeling skin, to the line of hair past his navel, and to his hardening cock. Billy’s head lulls, his eyes crossing as Steve swallows him to hilt. He tangles his fingers in Steve’s hair as his mouth works Billy until he’s as hard as a rock.
“Just like that—” he groans roughly.
“You like that, baby?” Steve pulls away with a pop; his voice low and rough as he asks the question. A hand replaces his mouth, and he strokes Billy, spitting on his cock and working him up more.
“You know I do.” He moans as Steve’s hand moves faster.
His boyfriend laughs, putting his mouth back on Billy’s cock, until he’s panting and scratching at Steve’s scalp. His boyfriend pulls away again, dragging Billy along the blanket, and pushing his legs towards his chest until he’s completely exposed to Steve’s eyesight. Billy looks up at the sky, feeling the rays of hot, filtered sun, through the shadowing branches, and he feels a weightlessness, much like he did in the water. Steve uses his mouth again, lapping at Billy’s hole, and he gasps in ragged breaths as his boyfriend’s tongue flicks around and around the puckered rim, loosening him up. Billy cries out when Steve’s tongue pushes inside, and he spreads Billy wider with both hands.
“Fuck—” he chokes on his words as he writhes, slapping blindly at the bag next to him.
Billy grips the material and turns it over until everything spills out, and he can reach for the lube they brought. He hands it to Steve, already uncapped and ready to be used. Steve pulls away to coat his fingers, and his straining cock, and Billy watches with hooded eyes, as his boyfriend uses his thumb, running it along Billy’s hole and pushing in, like he did with his tongue.
“Nice and tight, baby. I can’t wait to get my cock in you.”
“Then hurry up,” Billy laughs.
Steve grins, leaning down and kissing Billy until his lungs burn from lack of air. It isn’t much longer before Steve pulls away and pushes Billy’s legs towards his chest again, folding him like a goddamn lawn chair. Steve’s hand comes down heavily, slapping the meaty flesh of Billy’s ass just as he lines up and pushes his cock in him. The breath is punched out of Billy’s lungs, and he twists his fingers into the blanket underneath them as Steve starts a heavy pace, fucking into him roughly. Steve grunts with each stroke, and the sound never fails to make Billy mindless to his own pleasure, loving that Steve enjoys fucking him so roughly.
“Steve, baby,” he gasps as he angles Billy’s legs just right, tagging his prostate with each stroke.
His boyfriend doesn’t let up, fucking into him harder. Their skin clapping together, and the sound echoing around them.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this…love being inside of you.” Steve punches out the words between each breath. “Made just for me, baby.”
Even if Billy believes him, the words have him looking away, shy at the adoration in his boyfriend’s voice. His eyes travel down, watching, hypnotized, as Steve’s cock disappears, burying deep in Billy’s hole. It’s dizzying; his mouth going dry as he lets out ragged gasps of pleasure.
He’s not ready to come yet, wants it to last forever, but his body is betraying him, and he feels his pleasure cresting like the waves he misses in California. And Steve knows. He knows Billy’s body, has learned it, and fine tuned it to play just for him. Steve slows down, and Billy whines, knowing that Steve wants to play him just a little longer. His boyfriend leans over him, burying his face in Billy’s neck, grinding into him with slow drags along the walls of Billy’s hole, reaching down to stroke Billy’s cock in time with his lazy thrusts. The wave of pleasure comes back with a vengeance, and Billy is gasping with each stroke, biting his nails into Steve’s back.
“I love you,” Billy chants over and over until the phrase bleeds together.
It becomes a garbled mess as he clings to his boyfriend, and he moans desperately. His vision blurs at the edges as his orgasm finally crests, and Billy paints their chests with his cum as his boyfriend keeps milking him. Steve follows with a deep groan in Billy’s ear, and they hold onto one another as he fills Billy up with his own cum.
Steve pulls away eventually, and they’re both sweaty and satiated. Billy knows they’ll get back in the water, and clean themselves off before eating the food they’ve brought, and killing the time, until they’re ready to leave. But he wants to sleep in the sun like he used to, so he curls around Steve, burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck.
“In k'áatech.” Steve sounds out the foreign words cautiously, trying not to butcher them.
Billy grins, feeling his heavy eyes close, while Steve runs a hand through his hair, and they fall asleep together, in the sun.
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Surprise showed on Billy’s face as he noticed for the first time a beautiful man sitting at a small desk in the front of the room, a whiteboard to his back, several books opened in front of him as he scribbled something down on a small stack of paperwork.
“What do you want?” The man asked not looking up from his work.
Billy was in awe, the man was dressed in a dark blue dress shirt, he had the sleeves rolled up his forearms, the buttons undone. Over the shirt was a vest, not the bulletproof kind but a tactical one with more pockets than was probably needed. The beautiful man scribbled something down on the paper in front of him before flipping his page.
The man didn't necessarily look disheveled, but he had this casual undone way about him and Billy would have given almost anything to see just how many buttons he’d left unfastened. The man’s brunette hair was slicked back, but the gel holding it had long since worn down causing his bangs to fall forward into his beauty marked face. A pair of dark sunglasses were hooked on his shirt where his chest disappeared behind the vest.
“I, uh,” Billy started as he walked further into the room. “Names Billy Hargrove-Redfield, I start here tomorrow.”
“Is there a reason you're here a full,” The man shifted ever so slightly to check his watch. “Nineteen hours early?”
Billy chuckled, he closed the distance between him and the desk looking down at the sitting man. From this angle Billy could see down the man’s shirt, his taut muscles, the hard lines of his well toned body disappearing further down. Billy licked his lips as he spotted a few stray beauty marks speckled across the man’s chest, they matched the ones on his face and neck, and he wondered idly just how many more were hidden under there.
“I thought I’d come check the place out, see if I could catch a glimpse of what's in store for tomorrow.” Billy spoke flirtatiously.
The man stopped writing, he blinked a few times then set his pencil down softly on the table. Leaning back in his chair the man crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at Billy for the first time. Eyes so honey brown they were almost gold flicked over him, narrowed and calculating. A lesser man would have withered under the gaze, but Billy stood tall knowing he looked damn good in his tight jeans and well fitted army green shirt tucked into his pants.
“I see.” The man spoke devoid of all emotion as his eyes flicked back up to intrap Billy’s.
Billy just stood there, his eyes caged in the honey brown, his mouth suddenly dry and his hands feeling weird at his sides. It was like the other man was trying to look straight into Billy’s soul.
“You’re the ‘jack of all trades’ Jim Hopper-Burton recommended.”
“That's me.” Billy chuckled, easing back into his skin.
“It wasn't a question.” The man sighed and pushed himself up from the chair.
The man shut his eyes and turned his head popping his neck, he rolled his shoulders cracking his back then looked across his desk at Billy. “I’m Captain Stephen Wesker.”
Billy’s jaw almost hit the ground, his eyes went a little wide as he looked the man over again. Captain Wesker was supposed to be unfathomably intimidating, he was supposed to be old and looming and nowhere near this beautiful. Not to mention, the Captain was supposed to be in that office in the corner of the room.
Billy Hargrove Bingo 2023 - B2 - Free Space - 'There's No I in Threesome And I'm All for It' - 09.08.2023
Second drawing for the @billyhargrovebingo
'There's No I in Threesome And I'm All for It' - Harringroveson - 09.08.2023
Based on the pic that had been making round on Twitter - just Harringroveson chilling in public, probably at a concert
The title is based on 'No I in Threesome' by Interpol 😊❤️
Done using watercolors, colored pencils, ink pens, metallic ink pens, graphite pencils, acrylic paint pens, alcohol markers, gel pens and Photoshop for the title
AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Patreon post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post
Done using watercolors, colored pencils, ink pens, metallic ink pens, graphite pencils, acrylic paint pens, alcohol markers and gel pens
AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Patreon post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post
Billy Hargrove Bingo @billyhargrovebingo - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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