I am not kidding when I say I was HOPING someone would ask for this one specifically, hehe <3<3
So enjoy!
The worst part about not living at home in that supposed "mansion"? Having to do his laundry at a public laundromat. Why is it so embarrassing for him to wash his underwear where everyone else does so too? No one is looking at his particular batch of dirty clothes, and there's nothing interesting about his in particular, yet he hides his briefs beneath his shirts as he tosses both into the machine.
Billy, on the other hand, seems to have no sense of shame, as the two roommates stand side by side filling up with their individual loads. He's far more particular with the washing of his underwear, often says something about his junk only deserving the best treatment, including fabric softener and color coding everything.
Maybe it's because Steve was never properly taught how to do this, having had a maid taking care of everything back in Hawkins. But he is too proud to ask for help.
Until just now, as he pats down his jacket and jeans, finding no wallet. "Ah shit."
"What?" Billy asks but doesn't look away as he himself tosses in the necessary coins to get the machine whirring.
"I forgot my wallet, could you spare some change?" Steve reaches out his hand.
And Billy is mere seconds away from dropping some cents for him, when he instead closes his fist and brings it back from the vastly confused brunette. "What do I get?"
Steve groans, rolling his eyes and lowers both hands to his hips. "What do you want?"
Barely has the words left his mouth before something he recognizes all too well flashes in Billy's baby blues, going deep and dark, his grin curling lasciviously.
"Care to take a guess?" his voice goes low, dangerously low.
Harrington gazes around the room, nearly empty save for a couple of old women. He can't say no for two very good reasons- well, three very good reasons.
One, he needs clean clothes.
Two, it is pouring down outside and they live a fair bit away.
Three, he doesn't want to say no.
He can feel himself getting hard just at the mere idea of it; excited at the thought of getting caught doing what he enjoys perhaps a little too much. He'll feel like a horrible person if they actually get caught, but up until that one day happens, he'll gladly oblige.
"Fine." And again he presents his palm.
But Billy doesn't relent. "After I'm satisfied."
Steve hates how much he loves Billy's shitty smirk.
"Come."
The bathroom of the laundromat is small, and Steve tends to feel a little claustrophobic from time to time, especially when in limited spaces with others, but he can't think of that now as all the blood in his head rushes down south.
He leans against the sink, arms crossed, dick throbbing, but he tries to look less than enthusiastic.
"Don't pout like that, you know you love this."
He does. "Let's just get this over with," he says like he's not needy for it.
"Okay then…" Billy raises a brow, licks his lips and glances quickly down at where Steve is straining against his jeans. "Take off your clothes. All of it."
The blonde locks the door, then crosses his arms, staring expectantly.
Steve starts by reaching for his belt, but Hargrove shakes his head ever so lightly.
"No. Shirt first."
And he does as commanded, grabbing the hem of his green polo and pulls it over his head, exposing his hairy chest to the chilly air, and his nipples grow stiff near immediately.
Billy reaches out, lips lightly parted, running his knuckles up from Steve's navel to one of his buds, and even just him grazing the sensitive skin there has the brunette shuddering from light pleasure.
The hand doesn't stop there, moving further and further up till it reaches the throat of the half dressed man, gripping at it with just a hint of force and Steve gasps.
"Gotta be quiet, pretty boy, real quiet."
Steve nods slowly. He's so vocal it hurts his throat sometimes, but this is downright illegal, so he has to make an attempt to shut up.
The hand around his throat swiftly moves to the back of his neck and yanks at it, pulling him in to a heated kiss where Billy dives in with demanding tongue and hungry teeth. Steve's dying to moan into their embrace, but settles for heavy breathing and light panting instead whilst he rushes to get out of his jeans and underwear.
Billy, still fully dressed, spits into his palm and reaches down to stroke Steve's lengthy cock, who in turn grabs the edge of the sink he's leaning against, their foreheads pressed together as they both stare down to watch the show.
He wants to curse, wants to moan and scream Billy's name and hear him shower him in compliments, but they have to be quiet, and they have to be quick.
"You got… got lube?" Steve stutters out quietly.
"Always." Billy grins and removes his hand from the other. "But first, do as I said. Everything has to go."
While he fishes up the lube that has been poured into a (previosuly washed) hand sanitizer bottle, Steve steps out of his shoes and removes his socks and pants and underwear that were bundled up around his ankles.
"Turn around."
He does without a second thought to anything in his life other than the lustful ones. Steve gazes over his shoulder to try and watch as Billy pours lube onto two fingers, but his eyes screw shut as those two digits starts massaging circles against his hole, his own fingers going white with self-restraint where he's still gripping at the sink.
"You want this so bad, don't you? You needy fucking slut."
Steve nods a lot, biting down on his lip as to not beg for it loudly.
"Yeah you do."
Billy slips in just the tip of his index finger, and Harrington tries to chase that feeling, hungry for more, but a hand grabs his hip, holding him in place.
"You'll get exactly what I decide you deserve, understood?"
He nods again.
"Good boy."
With those words muttered, Billy pushes that finger all the way in, and as his response, Steve arches his back a little and starts panting worse.
The blonde starts thrusting that one finger swiftly in and out, curling it on occasion and Steve has possibly never been hornier from one finger than he is right now.
It doesn't take long for a second finger to be added and Hargrove fucks him with both digits like nothing else matters right now. He then leans in to kiss and nibble at Steve's left shoulder, and when those deep brown eyes open up, they find the other staring at him in the mirror.
"Look at you," Billy speaks with a completely leveled tone. "So hard, so needy, leaking like a wet whore."
They both look down, the sink low enough that Steve's prick can be seen standing tall and spilling pre-cum all over itself.
"You're doing so good, baby, being so quiet for me. You deserve this, don't you think?" And Billy pulls out his fingers to instead lay his fat cock in between Steve's cheeks, gliding and slipping in the lube as he thrusts his hips.
Steve nods profusely. Two fingers won't be enough to adjust his hole for Billy's width, but he doesn't want to wait, and it is almost as if the blonde knows.
"Yeah, you deserve my cock in your ass."
Hargrove withdraws for a couple of long seconds as he drenches his dick in the lube before driving it straight home without any concern for the slight burn Steve feels, who has to cup a hand over his mouth to keep himself from sounding out in enthusiasm and lustfulness.
"God, princess, you're so fucking tight."
He watches in the mirror as Billy stares down between them, pounding away like it's their last time together, like he'd die if he doesn't get to cum inside of Steve soon.
And Steve, one hand still covering his mouth, raises the other to brace himself against the mirror that has started to fog up, for if he doesn't, he would have for sure hit his face into the glass from how ferociously Billy fucks him.
"I want you to come first, yeah?"
"Mhm!" Steve whimpers.
Then the hands that are gripping his hips with bruising force moves up front and higher to start massaging the hairy chest of Harrington, rubbings his nipples with lubed up fingers in patterns that Billy knows drives Steve mad with lust, and if he keeps this up he'll cum untouched in a few seconds.
It seems quick, even to himself, but everything in this moment is a perfect scenario; the danger, the lust, Billy's cock, his lips that now kiss each and every mole across Steve's shoulder blades, his fingers on his sensitive areas, it all culminates into one abso-fucking-lutely mind-blowing orgasm.
Not every time can be outstanding, but this one beats all the rest, having him bite down on his lower lip with such force that it starts to hurt, but the euphoria that rolls through his body as he cums all over the sink and some on the mirror makes up for what pain he might have suffered to get here.
"That's it, oh shit, fuck yes," Billy grunts out as he continues to thrust with the same pacing, never slowing down because he knows that Steve needs to ride it out hard and fast till it gets overstimulating.
And even then, when he's lightly sore and it all gets to be too much for him, Steve gets a little erect again, knowing that now that he's done, Billy's just doing this for utterly and completely selfish reasons, and being used like he's one of those sex dolls is a fantasy he hasn't shared with anyone yet.
If it were up to him, they'd keep going for tens of minutes more, and Billy probably could keep it up for a while, but those women out there will be wondering where they went.
So he clenches his muscles, tightening around the dick inside of him, and he can hear in those low and guttural grunts that it is exactly what Billy needed.
And as Billy cums inside of him, Steve swears he felt like being seconds away from a second orgasm, but it is just out of reach, and grows dimmer and dimmer as the other man slows his speed down till he stands still, deep inside of Harrington, arms wrapped around him in an almost sweet embrace whilst he catches his breath.
Steve feels a little weird about, in some sense, being paid for what he just did, but it was more of an exchange of favors. And while Billy cleans up after them, ever the gentleman, Harrington slides the coins into the slot of the laundry machine, and presses start.
The bed creaks beneath their weight as Steve is pushed against the mess of sheets and pillows, moaning into the covers, one arm bent behind his back and held in place by Billy, whose other hand is on the brunette's neck.
Hargrove goes balls deep with every frantic thrust as he chases down his own euphoria, brutish in the way he handles his partner, and it makes Steve go so crazy he's seeing stars.
He likes being used like this; like a dumb slut by the one person he once hated the most. It's been only a couple of months of this fuckery, but it is doing wonders for their camaraderie and they're winning more baseball games than before they started this affair of a thing.
"Fuck, Harrington," Billy grunts out, having not gone past last names quite yet. "That's it, princess."
The blonde slips in and out with ease, the squelching obscene from the amount of lube that has been smeared all over Steve's ass.
"I'm close, let's switch positions, quick."
And quick it is, as Hargrove hurriedly pulls out and gets on his back, Steve climbing on top in reverse cow-girl, bouncing on it with lustful madness as he strokes himself to the rhythm of their bodies colliding.
"God, that is good," Billy exclaims, ever the talkative one, staring at how Steve's hole swallows him up. "I'm close, ahh."
He digs his fingers into the toned flesh of the other, and the way he moans out ever so loudly drives Harrington crazy, pumping himself faster and faster, but he doesn't quite make it in time to gain release together with Billy.
"Fuck!" Billy shouts out and throws his curly head backwards, gripping Steve with such strength it'll bruise later, keeping him near still as the brunette starts rolling his hips.
As his orgasm subsides, he sits up, guides both hands around Steve to bash his hands away from his cock to start stroking him instead.
It's not as if Steve likes being quiet, but the girls in his past found it weird how loud he would get, so he bites hard down on his lower lip, staring down at where Billy is jerking him off.
"C'mon, Harrington, let me hear you. Don't be so shy."
And at first it comes out as a whimper, as it always does, like he's testing the waters to see if Billy will make fun of him for it, but instead-
"That's it, baby, let me hear you."
Slowly the sounds get louder, more verbal, cursing and moaning mixed together like the sweetest music. Steve can feel how hard it gets Billy, who's still inside of him, no entirely limp any more.
Steve wants to say his name so bad, no more Hargrove or Harrington, but he knows it's dangerous to get too personal, even as he's inside of him, being stroked towards completion whilst filled with his cum.
A string of yes's leaves him loudly as the white-hot, fiery lust builds up until he can't contain it any longer, and shoots cum all over his own thighs, a little on his stomach, and some on the bed.
It's as if sex gets better every time with Billy; an addiction if ever there was one, for Hargrove is a narcissistic asshole, which just makes the victory of a well won orgasm all the better. All the sweeter.
And Steve slumps back, being held up entirely by the muscular body of the other, coming down from his high, when Billy whispers a question;
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