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[diedheroes-a]

ARCHIVED.  now @diedheroes.

[diedheroes-a]

moodpoisons​:

     HE DOESN’T SIGN AUTOGRAPHS ANYMORE.    That time has long passed,  and what’s amusing to him isn’t that the kid  joked about it,  but that he has  no idea  who he’s talking to––not just the co-founder of Hellfire,  but the frontman and lead guitarist of Pestilence,  who’d signed autographs with his own sweat and blood outside of a dive in New York.    Sometimes,  he wishes he could strip those pieces of himself away and replace them with other things.    He wishes he could strip the memory of those people because he likes Dustin better than them,  anyhow.    “    Handing ‘em out.    That was clever,    ”    he smiles with his eyes only,  true and meaningful.      “    It isn’t the town’s fault.    It’s this sick society we live in  spitting all its  bullshit  propaganda over the media and causing crisis after crisis,    ”    scoffing,  he pulls out a cigarette and lights it,  almost offering one to the kid before poorly estimating his age around  twelve  and putting them back in his jacket pocket.    “    Thanks.  I hate it––but you know Munson.    His brain thinks of the wildest shit.    I heard about the campaign.    Sounds brutal.    But no,  that isn’t why I’m here––so unfortunately,  I won’t be able to  aid you.    Maybe in the next campaign.      ”

     “  right?!   dude,  did you see that insane   newsweek   article last month?   guarantee   it’s gonna be the first of dozens.   hundreds.   mark my words.  the media spits out their panic - mongering,  doomsaying   nonsense,   and the idiot masses just eat that shit up.  ”   like he said,   inner circle shit.   dustin went into this with total faith in eddie munson’s judgment,  because eddie welcomed him and mike into the fold without any preamble whatsoever.  but he’s engaged for a couple of reasons.  that’s just the first one.  the second one is,  eugie just   looks   like a badass.  he looks like he could’ve made troy and james piss themselves even quicker than el did,  and she’s a goddamn telekinetic.  the third reason is pretty straightforward.  he’s engaged because this guy  —  the guy who helped start the hellfire club,  who doesn’t talk down to him or treat him like a child or look at him like he’s   weird   for his enthusiasm  —  is engaging right back.   (  also,  he called him clever.  he doesn’t get that   nearly   as much as he deserves to.  )   “  hey,  you’re tellin’   me.   our last battle at makbar  —  ?   bloodbath.   we’ve love to have ya on board.  you staying in town a while?  ”

[devilsmouth]

@diedheroes asked:    “are you sure about this?”

     No––but if there’s one thing he is sure about,  it’s this:  Hawkins is still the same  shithole  it was two years ago,  and Billy hated it here.  Another t-shirt is pulled off its hanger and tossed into the suitcase spread open at the foot of his bed.  Eddie sits beside it with his elbows on his knees and a half-smoked blunt between his fingertips that they’d been passing back and forth,  up until Billy decided that just  talking  about it wasn’t good enough.

     He missed the sandy shores and ocean waves.  He missed the palm trees and the bright morning sun.  He missed his friends and his home back in California,  and he wanted Eddie to really experience it.  Nothing made Billy Hargrove happier than being on the west coast    (  and he could only hope Eddie would feel the same.  )

     It’s five in morning and they’re supposed to leave at eight,  but Billy and Eddie have always been a pair of  procrastinators.  In actuality,  he had just spent so much time packing clothes,  unpacking clothes,  then repacking clothes,  he’d  forgotten  what he needed to bring and what should’ve stayed.  Eddie,  on the other hand,  likely just gave up halfway through.

     Meanwhile,  his sister,  who had been packed up for this trip since the middle of the week,  left thirty minutes ago with Steve to pick up coffee and breakfast from the diner down the road. 

     “    Why not?  C’mon,  Munson,  don’t pussy out on me now.  Get off your ass and finish up,  man,  we’ve got  three hours  ‘till this shithole is in our rearview for the next week and a half.  If you’re having  second thoughts…  well,  tough shit.    ”

[diedheroes-a]

moodpoisons​:

     HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS WOULD BE HER RESPONSE.    Except that it isn’t her response at all,  it’s only the response that she gives him.    Behind her,  Oemen and Reaper both stir.    Slater,  who always wakes up every hour on the hour,  pushes himself up from the couch and passes by Max––with his eyes still closed––to take a leak in the unoccupied bathroom    (  but instead of resuming his position on the couch,  he treads all the way back down the hallway into your bedroom and crashes in your bed instead,  like the fucking ingrate he is.  )    Again,  Rodney sighs.

     His gaze lands on Max,  who looks smaller than she did the first time they’d met.    “    Oh?    He likes you a lot for someone you  barely talk to.    ”    Pointed,  as if to say,  I know  in the sharpest way possible.    Rodney means well,  but Daniel is like a tender bruise on his heart;  he cares about the kid much as a father would his own child.    “    If you’ve ever heard him talk about someone named  Khaos,  he was talking about his brother.    I never said you told him to stay,  and I never said you started  shit,  Red.    All I’m saying is that he must really like  barely talking  to you.  Either that,  or the Hawkins High academics team grabbed him by the balls.   He’s wanting me to get him enrolled this semester.    ”

     she goes rigid for those few seconds as slater passes her by,  ninety percent asleep and blissfully unaware,  and she doesn’t relax even after he’s gone.  rodney’s not buying it.   they both know it’s a lie,   but the questions left on her tongue are bitter.   why.   why would he want to stay here,  why would he want her around,  why would he like her at all.  max has always subscribed to the belief that she’s pretty profoundly unlikable  —  she’s snide and mean and petulant and closed off,  defensive and argumentative,  bristly,  cold.  she’s not someone to   like.   lucas had learned that the hard way.   the friends she’d had in san diego stopped hanging around her before the move and she’d wanted so badly to blame it all on billy,  but it wasn’t just that.  she was unlikable before billy came crashing into her life.  and the worst part about this is,   she likes him too.

     “  o—okay,   yeah,   but  ——  ”   it’s clipped and halting,  like an old record with a skip.   “  like,  it’s   terrible   here.   school   is terrible.  the kids are shitty,  the teachers don’t even  —  like  —   pay attention   half the time,  and when they do they’re all assholes,  so  —  ”   the argument is a thin one,  because this isn’t about school.  she grinds her back teeth together,  arms tight across her midsection like she wants to fold in on herself and disappear.   “  whatever.  he’s  ...  just  —  where’s your bathroom,  again?  ”

[diedheroes-a]

devilsmouth​:

     Billy rolls his eyes because Harrington’s right,  and he always hated that.  He hated when Harrington could prove his point in less time than it took to come up with a solid argument,  and he hated when something so soft and warm as a set of hugging thighs could distract him from even making another attempt.    “    …  mm,    ”    he tips his head into that touch,  the gentle stroking of fingers through his hair and thinks that maybe he doesn’t hate it so much after all.  Maybe he could keep doing this for a long time.

     Steve calls him beautiful and Billy never knows how to respond to that,  because the way Steve sees him and the way he sees himself are different.    “    …  you’re down bad,  princess.    ”    Hands at his waist,  caressing up his sides underneath the hem of Steve’s shirt.  He works it up and over his head,   then tosses it onto the floor with another pile.  Billy leans forward,  first kissing his chest and then above his heart.    “    –– y’know what I’m thinking?  I’m thinking I’d rather be  doing this with you  than anything else with that goddamn thermostat.    ”

     of course he’s down bad.  that hasn’t been a question for a long time.  it’s sort of funny,  the surety of all this  —  if anybody had told him,  had told   either of them,   that they’d find something with each other that most people never even come close to,  steve wouldn’t have believed it.  neither of them would have.  it sounds sappy and ridiculous.  maybe that’s why he doesn’t say it out loud.   maybe he doesn’t have to.   maybe it’s enough just to be here,  like this,  billy coaxing him out of his shirt and kissing over his heartbeat.  feeling the thud of his pulse when it picks up a little,  because how could he   not   know what this does.  tipping his face upward with a gentle tug at his hair,  steve ruts forward to kiss him.  that slow,  tender bullshit,  intimate and sweet,  offset by how uncomfortable his jeans have been ever since he’d gotten down on his knees.

     “  ——  yeah,  you wanna know what   i   think?  i think you should just   stop   thinking and just do it.  i think that’s a way better plan.  ”

[notmorbid]

the school for good mothers.

dialogue prompts from the school for good mothers: a novel by jessamine chan.

i haven’t been sleeping. i wasn’t thinking.

are you hungry? did they feed you?

i’m going to miss you like crazy.

i feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.

what happened? you look pale.

if i had standards or scruples, i wouldn’t be here.

as if i need someone else to punish me.

can i kiss you?

it’s not like i’ve never thought about it. i have. a lot.

you’re not seeing me at my best.

promise you won’t tell anyone?

i miss being half of something.

daughters are allowed to have secrets.

at least we’re together. isn’t that the most important thing?

what kind of trouble are you in?

i feel mortified, but proud.

are all children so fickle?

you don’t want to tell me. you don’t have to.

i love you. please forgive me.

how did it feel, doing something right?

no more processing today, okay?

i’m just saying you’re brave. you’re a survivor.

don’t look at me. don’t be obvious.

some people just have that evil vibe, you know?

i’m not fighting you. this isn’t high school.

i’m so sorry. i should have helped you.

you have to stop treating me like the enemy.

why torture yourself?

take ‘can’t’ out of your vocabulary.

sometimes i really hate you.

you’re better company than you used to be.

everything you need should already be inside you.

your anger makes me nervous.

this looks like somewhere they’d film a zombie movie.

i feel like your chaperone.

there are few things scarier than a desirous teenaged girl.

loneliness has its own strange, insistent heat.

tell me what you need from me.

my heart actually aches. it feels like someone’s squeezing it. 

parents always think you’re little kids, even when you’re grown.

i missed you, asshole.

i used to think i valued loyalty over all else.

does survival count as progress?

you remember. thank you for remembering.

please be happy. i want you to be so, so happy.

this city has too many memories.

you know i’m not good at saying no to you.

are you going to be okay by yourself?

i’ll tell you later. i promise.

[diedheroes-a]

moodpoisons​:

     “    SHE DIDN’T FORGET,  DID SHE.    ”    He isn’t good at asking questions he already knows the answers to.    That being said,  he isn’t expecting her to indulge him.    The door closes behind her,  shutting them both inside.    Metallica plays faintly down the hall coming from Rodney’s bedroom;  Munson is humming along to it from inside the bathroom,  louder when the shower tap turns off.    He thinks she might quip about it,  but catches her looking at the boys instead.

     Oemen,  who always looked about as comfortable as a cougar in a bear trap when he fell asleep,  opens and closes his mouth like an infant.    “    Fuck no.    Not unless they start paying rent,    ”    but he isn’t kicking them out,  is he?    Rodney gives the three one last withering look before he breathes out a sigh,  turning away and walking toward the kitchen for his cigarettes.    Reaper begins to stir,  but doesn’t wake up.    “    Oemen got into it with his brother again,  so they all came crashing in this morning.    I don’t know what you said to the kid,  but he’s outright refusing to leave Hawkins.    Told his brother he could go fuck himself.    I guess I have you to thank for that knot he’ll be carrying around on his head for the next week.    If you ask me,    ”    he slides a cigarette out of the pack and puts it in his mouth.     “    ––  it was about damn time he stood up to that piece of shit.    ”

     something cold drops into the pit of her stomach.  if she’d felt like an asshole before,  there’s no comparison to the immediate,  overwhelming pull to get out.  just leave the way she’d come and pretend she was never here at all.   that knot he’ll be carrying around on his head.   there’s the flashbulb,  the laundry room,  her arm going numb.  there’s a shattered blue cup and the flat smack of a belt,  and bones snapping like skateboards,  and a broken cabinet door,  and the smell of copper pennies.  max wants to throw herself off a roof.  rodney’s lighting a cigarette and all she can do is stare blankly at oemen on the couch,  shame in her throat like barbed wire.   “  what?  no,  i  —  i didn’t say   anything   to him,  he  —  i didn’t even know he   had   a brother,  we were just   talking.   like,   barely   even talking,  i  ...  ”

     the music registers late.  somebody’s humming,  and it sounds like eddie munson,  and this is a total disaster.  she has to move.  disappear into the bathroom or book it back outside,  but she’s rooted where she stands.   “  ——  i didn’t mean to   start shit,   okay?  we just  —  talked.  and like,  got   burgers   one time.  it’s not like i   told him to stay.  ”

[diedheroes-a]

devilsmouth​:

     The noises coming out of this boy as Steve grabs him by the hips and fucks into him are  damning.  Neither of them are holding back;  Billy especially,  who uses his free hand to draw him out,  stroking himself to match Steve’s pace––and he must have needed this more than he thought,  because even just getting the  suspicion  that Harrington might stop and tease him has Billy Hargrove begging,  his voice thick and pathetic sounding and his throat.  He keens,  whimpers and moans,  fingers curling tighter around the top of that door as he arches his back.    “    Please––baby––f–fuck,  right there––    ”    He doesn’t understand why Steve  slows down  and puts a hand over his mouth,  can barely contain the sound that traps itself in his throat until he hears them.  Those two voices.    (  They’re so fucked.  )    Frozen there,  his hand pulls down from the doorframe and presses flat against it instead,  the other moving to hold onto Harrington’s wrist.  His eyes squeeze shut,  then open.  He’s  tight,  blood rushing in his ears,  his heart pounding wildly.  Steve is still fucking him  and he needs something––anything––to keep him  quiet,  so he uses the hold he has on his wrist and pulls,  taking two fingers into his wet open mouth instead.

     they are   so   fucked,  but they have one thing going for them:   tommy and kirk are idiots.   anybody else would’ve caught the noise before they came barreling into the bathroom,  except tweedledee and tweedledumbass are so goddamn loud on their own that they manage to drown out anything else.  (  baby.  he’d called him   baby.  )   it’s a hell of a saving grace,  especially when billy starts to suck on his fingers like that.  when he   tenses   like he’s trying to make steve cum ahead of schedule,  and steve’s mouth presses harder against his neck,  promising a mark to surpass all the others he’s left prior.  he reaches around billy’s hips,  thumbing over the head of his cock and coaxing his hand to start stroking himself again.  on the other side of the stall door,  kirk and tommy guffaw as they use the urinals.  something about kirk screwing nicole last night.  something steve doesn’t give a shit about.  scuffling,  running water,  shoes squeaking on the tile.  after what feels like two weeks,  they thud and clatter their way back out of the bathroom and it’s finally quiet.  steve blows out a breath as his mouth parts from billy’s skin.   “  ...   shit,   that was close,  ”   but so is he,   so he grabs him by the hip again,  pounding,  arcing upward thrusts,  a moan lodged in his throat.  it pitches out of him the same second he goes over the edge,  buried deep in that tight heat.

[diedheroes-a]

devilsmouth​:

     “    Already watched  Evil Dead  with S–– …  some cheerleader bitch,  I don’t know.  Didn’t make it past fifteen minutes.    ”    He has a better idea    (  and giving  Shelley Duvall  a third and final chance to ash that goddamn cigarette isn’t it.  )    Billy steps out of the living room and into the kitchen,  crossing from one end to the other––then,  after finding what he was in search of,  scrawls out a note on a scratchpad and rips it off to pin up on the refrigerator for Neil and Susan.    “    ––  your  hick friends  ever take you to see that overlook,  the one above east Hawkins?  Didn’t think so.  Grab your board.    ”

     he’s right,  even though she doesn’t say it.  max didn’t even know hawkins   had   an overlook.  there’s a minute of hesitation after he leaves the note,  because she can’t help but wonder if she’s about to be flung   off   an overlook,  but she’s so excruciatingly bored that it’s a risk she willingly takes.  this is the thing about billy.  he isn’t always a dick.  sometimes,  he can be  ...  almost   fun.   shoes already on,  she doubles back to grab her skateboard and follows him outside to his camaro.  reaches for the passenger door handle and pauses.   “  are you being serious about this?  because if it’s just some stupid cover story so you can go on a   date   or whatever,  just tell me now.  ”

[diedheroes-a]

moodpoisons​:

    MUNSON IS STILL SHOWERING OFF THE MORNING,    but there’s a spare bathroom down the hall and to the right    (  she would just have to pass  three sleeping boys  to get to it.  )    Rodney doesn’t seem bothered by the wakeup call;  maybe just a little out of it,  like he’d just woken up from a bad dream––or a good one.    It isn’t his business,  but he asks anyway:    “    Why did your water get cut off?    ”    Then he holds the door open and steps out of her way,  allowing her inside.    “    ––  to your right.    The boys sleep like the dead.    Don’t worry about waking them up.    ”

     “  because my mom   forgot   to pay the bill,  i guess  —  ?  like our place wasn’t enough of a shithole already.  ”   funny how susan never  ‘ forgets ’  to stock up on coors and parliaments.  so here she is,   at 7:35 on a monday morning,   feeling like a complete asshole for the disruption even as she mutters a   thanks   and steps past him into the trailer.   the boys.   they’re taking up the whole couch,  one on either side,  all limbs.  oemen looks like a little kid.  his cheek’s pillowed on his shoulder in a way that can’t be comfortable,  but he somehow makes it look like it is.  max catches herself looking at him for a beat too long and yanks her focus to rodney instead.   “  ——  so do they,  like.   live with you  now,  or  ...  ?  ”

[diedheroes-a]

@moodpoisons​.

     “  hi.  so  —  this is gonna sound like,  totally weird and like super intrusive,  since we basically   just   met,  but  —  is there,  like.  any way i could use your bathroom.  it’s just  —  yeah,  our,  um.   our water got shut off,   so?  i’ll literally be five minutes.  ”   her natural tone,  no matter the content,  always has a way of making her sound like she’s about to take hostages.  swallowing what little’s left of her pride,  max inhales and stiffly tacks on,   “  ——  please.  ”

[diedheroes-a]

haganheir​:

     “    He fucked my girl.  You might be a pussy,  Harrington,  but I’m not afraid of him––and hey,  you can tell that  piece of shit  the next time I see him,  I’ll  bury  the motherfucker.    ”    

     Usually,  there was always an air of casualty with Tommy.  This time,  there isn’t.

     “    I don’t know,  why don’t you tell me.  He’s one of yours,  isn’t he?  I’ve seen you hanging around those goddamn  freaks.  What,  high schoolers aren’t tight enough for you,  you need somethin’ younger?  Jesus,  Harrington,  and they thought  Byers  was the Hawkins High perv––    ”

     “  ...   what   did you just say?  ”   and just like that,  he goes from pissed off to downright   angry.   for all of his recent attempts at reform,  all of his copping to his own shitty behavior and trying to do better,   there’s a reason why someone with a mean streak as wide as tommy’s had latched onto him back in middle school.   it’s this.  right here.  the way he slides into the red zone like he did in that alley  ——  only this time,  this is about more than just an ex - girlfriend.

     steve doesn’t wait for him to say another goddamn word before letting that right hook fly.  it’s been a long time coming,  long before that afternoon outside the fair mart.   he should’ve done this years ago.

[diedheroes-a]

@devilsmouth asked:   “ you’re bleeding. why are you bleeding? ”

     he’s killing time until the cops roll up,  is what he’s doing.   snitches end up in ditches,  except snitches who’ve got mommy and daddy’s bank accounts to fall back on.  the blood caking both nostrils and pooling over his lip is tacky,  not wet,  not totally dry,  just enough to be uncomfortable.  it’s funny,  really.   it’s goddamn hilarious,   but billy probably won’t think so.  the context,  maybe,  just not the end result.   (  if eugie were still here,  he wouldn’t think so either.  )

     “  ———  oh,  this?  yeah,  so,  turns out   this   is what happens when you,  uh,  embezzle  —  ?  is that the right word?  when you embezzle five hundred bucks from tommy hagan for about,  uh,  a gram of   bayer aspirin.   low dose.  i don’t know,  man.   i don’t think he got the joke.  ”

[diedheroes-a]

haganheir​:

     “    Nah,  man,  don’t get it twisted.  I just took you for another one of those  dick-sucking queers  like the Byers freaks.  Maybe you should stop worrying so much about my girlfriend and start worrying about yours.  Except––that’s  right,  you don’t have one of those anymore.  You sure Princess isn’t spreading her legs for  him  too,  or…  wait,  are we still pretending we don’t  give a shit  that  li’l Stevie  got  cheated on?  C’mon,  Harrington.  The sooner you tell me where he is,  the sooner we can get this over with.    ”

     “  get   what   over with,  dipshit?  jesus,  do you ever stop talking?  i seriously must’ve missed the part where   any of that   was your goddamn business.  i’m  —  honestly,  hagan,  i’m confused,  is byers a   queer   or is he screwing nance?  i mean,  which is it?  don’t strain yourself too much tryin’ to figure it out,  buddy.  just take your time.  ”

[diedheroes-a]

haganheir​:

     “    Where’s your  boyfriend,  Harrington?  That’s what he is,  right?  I mean,  you two have been spending  so much time together,  I just figured––    ”    @diedheroes

     “  ——  jesus christ.  you just figured   what,   man?  what,  since i’m not hangin’ around with you assholes anymore,  that's the only explanation?  you know what,  hey  —  maybe you should ask   carol   where he is,  huh?  ‘cause i heard she gave him a pretty   warm welcome.  ”

[diedheroes-a]

devilsmouth​:

    Harrington was right.  Hawkins wasn’t anywhere close to sunny California,  even on its hottest days.  The weather report said seventy-five with high humidity––which meant it felt more like  eighty degrees,  and eighty felt like  burning brimstone and blazing hellfire  to the people of Hawkins.  Billy scoffs a breath,  lightly tracing that thumb across Steve’s bottom lip before watching as he sucks on the tip.  His heart skipped a beat right then.  He catches himself thinking he could go for another round,  but Steve is standing before he voices it.    “  I know how to fix a goddamn thermostat,    ”    he argues,  which means he knows the basic  concept  of fixing a thermostat.  

     It means that Neil showed him.

     He shifts back a step so that he can sit on the edge of his bed but keeps Steve standing between the spread of his thighs,  guiding his arms up to drape over his shoulders.    “    ––  and the only one about to be  screwed  here is you,  princess,  and it won’t be the kind of screwing you like.  I’m not fixing something I didn’t break.  Why’s this even a conversation we’re having?    ”

     “  oh,  really?  is that why?  because   you didn’t break it,   so you’re tryin’ to teach him a lesson,  even though he’s stoned off his ass half the time and either too busy with   band practice   or his nerdy little game to even give you the satisfaction?  is that it?  ”   slotted between those thighs,  steve uses the position as an opportunity to push in closer,  knees on the bed,  and lower himself onto billy’s lap in an easy straddle.  playing with his hair from the crown of his head down to his nape,  lazily twirling the curls around his fingers.

     he could do this for hours,  he feels like.  just   look at him.   the cut of his cupid’s bow,  that tiny scattering of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.  the thick sweep of dark lashes.  the intensity of his eyes,  a color steve’s never seen before,  not anywhere.  and he’s   smiling,   before he can help it.  so maybe he doesn’t mind the heat all that much.   “  you’re so goddamn beautiful.  ”

[diedheroes-a]

devilsmouth​:

     A few seconds of dizzying anticipation,  his pulse beating hard against the side of his throat as that warm mouth touches his nape.  He’s trying to unbutton his jeans until Harrington takes over, until he yanks them down––until he feels those fingers working him open,  and Billy doesn’t have the time to choke down the audible gasp he draws in as he reaches to grasp the top of the doorframe,  white-knuckled,  back arching.  Nipples harden beneath the tease of his fingertips;  he bites down on the tip of his tongue to stifle the  noise  he wants to make because he wasn’t prepared for this a second time but,  fuck,  he’s already aching for it.  He lets out a breath,  moves his free hand behind him to spread himself open a little more,  give Harrington  plenty of freedom  to press into him––and he takes every goddamn inch of him with a choked gasp.    “    Oh,  fuck––s–shit––!    ”    Billy’s moans pitch as the heat of him tightens around Steve’s dick and  pulls him in deep  with each thrust,  bracing himself to match the pace and meet his rhythm.

     school bathrooms are notorious for their acoustics.  sound echoes,  carries,  skates off the walls.  it was always part of the appeal,  the thrill of that risk.  they   should   be quiet.  steve just doesn’t want to.  not when billy sounds like this.  the hike of his moans in tandem with how   tight   he gets has steve taking him by the hips and picking up the pace,  that raw,  fast,  satisfying smack of skin against skin,  the creak of the stall door,  the metallic clink of billy’s open belt buckle.  his own breath falls heavy around a low spill of curses and praise,  mixed in with billy’s name.  there’s a wild,  impulsive moment,  as he pounds into him and angles   just right,   when he considers pushing him out of the stall and bending him over the sink instead.  it’s barely taken shape within the muddy,  lust - filled haze,  when there’s a new sound from just outside.  when the main door to the bathroom thumps open and a pair of loud,  raucous voices pour in to fill the space.   it’s kirk and tommy h.,   and steve’s pressing hard and flush against billy’s back,  buried deep inside him with an arm around his hips and a hand snapping up to cover his mouth.   but he doesn’t stop.   the strokes get slower.  deeper.  muffling the noise of his own pleasure against the slope of billy’s neck.