Ace Steve as requested by @myboyfriendsteve
Happy Pride!
Here is a link to my post about Harringrove for BLM, and here is a link to Writers/Artists Against Police Brutality
Here’s also a link to the Masterlist of Harringrove for BLM coutesy of @harringrovetrashh
Thank you all for organizing, participating, and donating.
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The bell above the door was somehow extra loud when Billy shoved his way through.
Or maybe Steve was just extra in tune with the specific way it jangled as he swaggered inside, smirking at Steve, his eyes sharp.
They did this every day.
Billy would come in, they would flirt back and forth, Billy would lick over his teeth, say something like why don’t you meet me at the quarry tonight, Pretty Boy, and Steve would panic and come up with some lame excuse why he couldn’t, Billy’s face would fall, and he’d slink back out.
“Why don’t you just go out with him?” Robin huffed as Steve watched Billy retreat. “I know you’re jonesin’ for him.”
“Because, because he’s gonna want stuff if we go out. Stuff I can’t, can’t give him.” They had already had this conversation, on the bathroom floor of the Starcourt Mall, drugged nearly out of their minds.
She had told him about Tammy Thompson, the deep feeling she got low in her gut when she thought about other girls, other women.
And he hadn’t understood, told her he had never felt that. He loved looking at beautiful people, loved holding hands and going on dates, but never felt that urge, that want.
And she had just shrugged, said that’s okay. That if someone was right for him, loved him as they should, they wouldn’t force something he didn’t want.
“Maybe you could talk to him? See if, if maybe he doesn’t mind that you can’t give him that.” Steve just shook his head.
“You’ve heard the rumors. He’s not goon want me once he, once he finds out that I’m broken.”
Robin’s eyes flashed.
“You are not fucking broken. Stop saying that about yourself. You’re normal and good and just fucking great the way you are, and if someone doesn’t love you enough to make you feel that, then they don’t deserve you.”
-
Billy was back.
He leaned over the counter to tug on the back of Steve’s work vest.
“Hello, I’d like to rent a video. For my family.” He smiled brightly at Steve when he turned around, gum rolling around in his mouth. After getting possessed, after getting that thing burned out of him in the sauna, his lungs weren’t quite the same. He could usually be found with wads of bubblegum in his cheeks, shoving more in when he got another craving for a cigarette.
“I think I can help you with that. We are called Family Video for a reason.” RObin audibly groaned from the back room.
“Well, anything ticklin’ your fancy these days? You could come watch it, watch it with me.” Steve’s stomach dropped.
“Sorry, Billy. I got, I got to drive Dustin tonight, his mom took an extra shift and-” Billy huffed.
“That’s fine, Harrington. I get the fuckin’ message.”
Billy stomped out the door, shoved himself through. Steve panicked, was rounding the counter before he even realized what he was doing.
“Billy, Billy wait.” He reached Billy just as he was opening his car door in the lot behind Family Video. “Billy, why are you angry?”
“I get the fucking hint, Harrington. Why do you keep pretending to flirt if you don’t actually want to go out with me? You think it’s fun for me to get shot down again and again? Are you having fun playing with the queer? Playing with the fact that I fucking like you?”
“I’m, I’m not messing with you. I, I like you, but, but you don’t, you don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?”
“If we’re together, you’re gonna, gonna find out, and then you won’t like me any more.” Billy shoved another piece of bubblegum in his mouth.
“Try me.” Steve shook his head, eyes wide. “What skeletons do you got in your little fancy boy closet? You got some weird fetish or something.”
Steve made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, something like a scream with his mouth still closed.
“No. It’s the fucking opposite of that.” Billy furrowed his brows.
“The opposite, of a fetish? You think I’m not gonna like you because you like nice vanilla white boy sex? Honestly, Pretty Boy, that’s fine. That’s good, actually.” Steve stamped his foot. Billy just raised an eyebrow.
“No. I don’t like any sex. It’s just, it’s just like a chore and I don’t want it, and you’re not gonna be with me because I’m high maintenance, and you don’t get anything out of dating me.”
“Relationships aren’t just about sex, Steve. If we were, were together, I would get to be with you, I would get to love you. That’s fucking enough.”
“But I, I I just don’t feel that way. Like, I don’t think I ever have. I just, I’ve only had sex because I, because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Like, I’m a teenage boy. I should be raging with fucking hormones.” Billy took a small step closer to him, put his hands on each of Steve’s elbows. He spat out his wad of bubblegum, tightening his grip on Steve.
“Sweet Thing, I don’t fucking care about that. About any of it. We can be together and never have sex. I got two hands. I’m fine.” Steve smiled weakly. “As long as you’re happy, and comfortable, and safe, I’m good.”
Steve nodded at him.
“Can I kiss you?” He was searching Steve’s face. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. I like kissing.” Billy smiled at him, discreetly looking around before leaning forward, leaning in.
He kept it soft, just a slow press of their lips.

















