Description~ It's high school...Max and Lucas break up for the millionth time but something about this time feels so different than the others. She feels the need to self destruct and she brings Jane along with her. A high school party goes awry and Jane has to call the last person Max would want to face in her state.
warnings: drinking, parties, angry Cali-siblings, fighting, mention of blood, mention of injuries, mention of non consensual touching and grabbing.
The music was way too loud, rattling the floor and almost making Max’s teeth ache. She winced as she stepped inside, the bass pounding so hard it felt like it might knock the air from her lungs. Even after years growing up with Billy’s endless stereo battles, this was different. It was like the party itself was trying to drown out everything real, everything sober.
She thought about turning around and leaving. Maybe she should just go home, curl up in bed, and try to forget how wrecked she felt inside. But the idea of facing her own room-empty, silent, and full of reminders-was even worse. This wasn’t something a night in with Jane, couple of magazines and a pint of ice cream was going to fix.
At least, that’s what she tried convincing herself of.
A worried voice cut through the noise, barely audible above the chaos.
“Max, why are we here?” Jane’s voice was tight, her makeup smeared eyes darting nervously around, like she was waiting for something bad to happen. She hovered so close Max could feel her anxiety radiating off her.
Max forced a laugh, pushing past a group of shouting guys. They were both dressed for a party. Much their style but now a little more daring. “Because sitting at home sucks, and I need-” She cut herself off, biting back the truth as she made her way into the house. She needed to forget. She needed something loud, something reckless, something that would let her pretend she wasn’t falling apart. Jane stumbled after her, eyes wide.
It was a weak excuse, and Jane knew it. But Max couldn’t bring herself to say the real reason: she couldn’t handle the silence, the heartbreak, the way Lucas’s words still rang in her ears.
His voice haunted her, echoing in her mind like a song she couldn’t turn off.
“I can’t do this again, Max.”
He wasn’t angry. He was just tired. The kind of tired that felt final, like he’d already given up.
“Every other day, you’re mad because I forget something. Or you threaten to break up with me. Or you actually do. The mind games… I can’t do it anymore. I feel like I’m losing you, over and over. I’m done.”
This time was different. There was no shouting, no dramatic storming out. Just a quiet, cold break-like something deep inside her snapped.
Every other breakup was loud, messy. This one? It was just silence, finality. Lucas had reached his limit. Max felt it, heavy and sharp, like a bruise that wouldn’t heal.
Max snapped at Lucas over the smallest things. Slamming doors, rolling her eyes, picking fights about nothing. She didn’t even try to stop herself-sometimes it felt easier to be angry than scared. Especially with him. She knew he’d always apologize, always bend over backward to fix things, his voice soft and desperate: “Max, please, I meant nothing by it.” And she loved that power, even if it twisted her up inside. She loved knowing she could make him chase her, even as she pushed him away.
But the games-making him beg, threatening to break up so often it became a punchline-they weren’t funny anymore. She was too old for this crap. Maybe she needed to stop acting like a kid, stop pretending drama and chaos made love stronger. Maybe she needed to stop hurting people just because she felt so empty.
Max pushed her way into the kitchen, barely glancing at the table before grabbing a random plastic full cup. She gulped it down without a second thought, barely registering the burn in her throat-she wanted it to sting, wanted something to feel real. Then she snatched up whatever was closest, ladling neon blue liquid into her cup like she was daring herself to go farther.
Jane hovered at her side, voice thin and worried. “Max, you don’t like that stuff. You’re acting crazy.”
Max shot her a look, rolling her eyes. “ I don’t care. Tonight, I need to feel something. Come on, you should try it too.” She shoved a cup at Jane, her grin reckless and wild. “Who cares? We’re in high school. we’re supposed to do this. Loosen up. You’ve been under constant supervision your whole life. Don’t you want to feel like the rest of us do?”
Jane stared at the cup, hesitant. Whatever Max was doing. Trying to persuade her to join, it wasn’t working. “Max, you’re scaring me. You’re not yourself-”
But Max didn’t stop to listen. She plunged into the crowd, yelling out a loud welcoming roar and swallowing down another mouthful. She let herself sink into the noise, desperate for anything loud enough to drown out the emptiness threatening to swallow her whole.
At first, Max thought she was pulling it off. The noise, the bodies, the music-they blurred the edges of her mind, numbing everything she’d wanted to forget. For a few minutes, she could almost convince herself the buzz was enough.
She lost track of time and drinks as laughter echoed around her; too loud, too sharp. Every time someone handed her another cup, she didn’t even hesitate; she wanted the burn, the haze, anything but the ache inside. Sweat dripped down her arms as she danced the night away, but Max barely noticed. She kept moving, kept drinking, determined not to let anything catch up to her.
Jane stayed nearby, her posture rigid, eyes darting anxiously every time Max took another drink or stumbled. She kept reaching out, hoping to steady her friend or at least anchor her in the chaos.
“Max,” Jane said after a while, her voice almost drowned out by the music, “This isn’t right. You’re not okay.” She sounded desperate, her worry coming through in every word.
Max forced herself to laugh, but it came out cracked and brittle. “Relax. It’s just a party. This is what everyone does, right?” She tried to sound convincing, but she couldn’t meet Jane’s eyes.
“It’s not just a party,” Jane pressed, her voice trembling. “You’re… spiraling and you know it.”
Max turned, her gaze foggy and unsteady. She tried to act tough “Wow, big word,” she scoffed, but her tone was almost mocking, almost sad.
“I learned it from you.” Jane’s reply came softly, but Max felt the words land. She blinked, struggling to focus on her friend, the haze of alcohol making it harder.
Those words stung more than Max expected. She looked away, jaw clenched, refusing to admit anything else.
“Then you know I’m fine,” she snapped, but her voice was shaky, her bravado slipping.
The room spun, and Max gripped the edge of a nearby table as if it could anchor her to the present.
The world tilted sideways, or maybe Max did. She couldn’t tell anymore. Someone bumped her, voices blurred, everything felt messy and wrong, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
Jane grabbed Max’s arm, her grip tight and protective. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she pleaded, her anxiety clear in her trembling hands.
Max jerked her arm away, stumbling slightly, fueled by alcohol and stubbornness. “No, I just got here!” she slurred, her frustration boiling over.
“You’re not okay,” Jane insisted, her voice breaking as she watched Max unravel and ignored her pleas.
“I said I’m-” Max started, but her words were interrupted as she suddenly lost her balance. The floor seemed to wobble under her, and she grabbed the nearest table, knocking over a cup that spilled neon blue liquid everywhere.
Laughter erupted around her…loud, careless, not exactly cruel but not compassionate either. Max felt tiny, exposed, as if everyone could see right through her. Her eyes darted out to the crowd of her peers. Her loose red hair already a mess in tangles and sweat.
Jane stepped in front of Max, blocking her from the crowd, her expression fierce and determined. “We’re leaving, Max. Now,” she demanded, not budging.
Just as Jane reached out again, someone else barged between them- a taller, muscular guy, too close for Jane’s comfort. She tensed, ready to defend her friend.
“Hey… you’re Sinclair’s girl, right?” Tony, one of Lucas’s teammates, asked with a casual arrogance, completely ignoring Jane. Max’s annoyance faded, replaced with flirtatious curiosity. She flashed him a half-smile, barely steady.
“Not anymore,” she said, her tone exaggeratedly playful. Tony grinned, clearly pleased by her response.
“Good to know.” Max grabbed his drink without asking, taking a bold swig from his red solo cup, ignoring Jane’s look of alarm. Tony wrapped a strong arm around the smaller red head.
“Dance with me,” she declared, pulling Tony onto the dance floor. She didn’t ask, just acted, desperate for any distraction.
Jane watched, defeated and angry, realizing Max was spiraling out of control. If Jane tried to use her powers to help, she risked drawing too much attention-something Hopper warned her about repeatedly. But she couldn’t let Max destroy herself.
“Fine,” Jane whispered, glaring at her best friend, torn between worry and fear for what might happen next.
“You leave me no choice…” Jane muttered, her voice heavy with resolve and sadness.
The garage reeked of oil, metal, and heat-even late at night, Hawkins couldn’t cool down the place. Sweat trickled down Billy’s neck, sticking his shirt to his skin, but he barely noticed as he worked under the maroon BMW.
Billy was halfway under the car when the phone started ringing. He didn’t hear it at first; the Rock station blared from the boom box on his workbench, drowning out everything except the thrum of the bass.
“You sure you know what you’re doing down there, Hargrove?” Steve’s voice cut through the noise, teasing but unmistakable. Billy rolled his eyes, catching the glint of Steve’s smile-the kind that always lingered a little too long. The music dropped to a whisper, Steve’s hand pausing on the dial.
“You wanna take a crack at whatever is causing that horrible noise in your car, pretty boy?” Billy shot back, his tone sharp but the smirk on his face betraying a challenge. “Feel free to get your hands dirty. Or you could do us both a favor and shut the fuck up. But who am I kidding, you wouldn’t get grease underneath those newly manicured nails of yours.” He slid out from under the car, meeting Steve’s eyes, their banter charged-but never too hostile. Steve couldn’t help his eyes linger this time for a beat. Billy grabbed a wrench, the brush up against Steve’s knee was no accident.
Steve straightened from his position on the stool bench defensively but grinned, eyes twinkling. “Hey! It’s not a manicure, alright? My cuticles just needed some love. Robin’s cousin fixed me up.” He held up his hands, flexing his fingers ostentatiously, maybe hoping Billy would notice.
“Uh huh-” Billy replied, only half listening as he shifted through his tool box for what he was looking for, but Steve’s presence kept him anchored in the moment.
Steve tossed his hair, leaning closer. “You know, maybe you could use a little nail care yourself. Might make you look less like you crawled out of an engine.” He snickered, grabbing a black rubber from the work bench and tossing it a few times in the air.
The phone’s shrill ring pierced the tension now that the music was nearly silent. Billy snapped his gaze to it, the relaxed air suddenly gone.
“Son of a bitch.” Billy cursed, groaning as he pushed himself up from the creeper, impatience and annoyance flickering across his face -Steve didn’t miss it.
He snatched up the phone after the fifth ring, answering with a gruff, familiar tone.
“This better be good. Garage is closed. What do you want?” He answered uninterestedly.
Jane’s voice came through, steady but tight. “Billy.” Instantly, Billy’s bravado slipped-his jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the receiver. Steve stopped bouncing the ball, watching Billy’s whole demeanor change from cocky to anxious.
“What happened?” The question tumbled out, sharp and urgent. He could tell immediately from Jane’s voice that something was wrong.
“It’s Max.” Jane’s words were enough; Billy’s worry was palpable, his chest tight as he waited for the details.
That was all it took-Billy was already reaching for his jacket, his mind racing, barely able to focus. Steve watched closely, concern etched across his face.
“I’m on my way,” Billy barked, urgency raw in his voice as he hung up the phone.
Steve was waiting for Billy to explain when he noticed him wiping his hands a little too fast and grabbing his jacket instead of his usual post-job beer, Steve’s brow furrowed. He straightened, his voice tightening with unease. “Billy? What’s up, man?”
Billy didn’t even glance over, his attention locked somewhere distant. Steve could tell it wasn’t just about the job but the phone call. The easy back-and-forth between them had vanished, replaced by a heavy silence. Steve shifted from foot to foot, his concern growing.
“Hey.” Steve tried again, voice lower this time, a real edge of worry. “Billy, seriously. What’s going on?” He watched as Billy yanked his keys off the hook, the way his hands shook just a little.
Billy paused by the door, knuckles white around the keys. He finally muttered, barely looking up, “If this is as bad as I think, someone’s gonna pay for it.” His voice cracked between anger and fear. For a split second, Steve saw just how scared Billy really was before he masked it again and started for the door.
Billy muttered over his shoulder, “Car’ll be ready for you tomorrow, Harrington,” barely making eye contact as he strode toward the Camaro.
“Wait-Hargrove, hold up!” Steve jogged after Billy, worry creasing his brow. “Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”
Billy paused, his grip tightening on his keys. For a second, he looked back, uncertainty flickering across his face before he quickly masked it.
He jerked his chin toward the passenger side. “Get in.”
Jane sat hunched on the curb, arms hugging herself for warmth, her gaze unfocused and distant. The familiar rumble of Billy's car echoed down the street, and for the first time all night, Jane felt a wave of relief. She drew a shaky breath, sitting a little straighter as the sound grew closer.
Headlights swept across the street, illuminating her and the scattered beer bottles littering the sidewalk.
Billy's Camaro screeched to a stop, tires crunching over loose gravel, the car angled awkwardly as he parked too fast.
He flung the door open, barely waiting for the engine to cut off, and strode toward Jane, breath visible in the chilly night air.
“Jane, are you alright? What happened?” Billy demanded, voice rough but worried, his arm instinctively wrapping around her shoulders once she stood up. Jane tucked herself closer, grateful for his solid presence, her body trembling against his.
“She’s not okay.” The words came out flat and shaky, and Billy felt the hairs on his arms stand up knowing she was talking about Max.”
“She’s still inside?” Billy asked and Jane gestured weakly toward the house, her eyes flicking to the glow spilling from the windows.
“I tried to get her out, but she won’t listen. She’s... spiraling.” Jane’s voice cracked, and she looked away, ashamed.
Billy exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched. He gave Jane a gentle squeeze and nodded. “Go wait in the car with Steve. I’ll be right back.”
He watched her make her way to the Camaro, then squared his shoulders, turning and walked up the steps toward the party, determination set in his stride.
As he stepped inside, the smell hit him-sweat, stale beer, fresh booze, bodies pressed together, music thudding through the floorboards. Billy grimaced, remembering nights he'd spent in places like this, glad those days were behind him.
But for Max, it looked like the chaos was just beginning.
Billy swallowed hard, realizing he’d never really prepared himself to help her through this.
Billy’s gaze swept the packed room, his jaw set and eyes sharp, practically daring trouble to show itself. This was no place for Max-he knew it and she damn well should have, too. If she’d managed to get herself in over her head, Billy was ready to tear through anyone in his way, rules be damned. He’d drag her out of here himself if he had to, and anyone stupid enough to interfere would regret it.
Frustration burned in his chest as he prowled the edges of the chaos, every muscle tense. Max wasn’t anywhere. Typical. She always picked the worst times to vanish-always had to do things her way, even now.
He clenched his fists, pulse pounding…if he had to, he’d rip the stereo wires out, kill the music, and kick everyone out just to find her. No way was he letting her pull this kind of stunt-not on his watch. Max might be as stubborn as hell, but so was he.
But then a sudden commotion snagged his attention. A surge of shouting and crashing from the other side of the living room.
A ring of onlookers shouted over the pounding music. Billy forced his way through, none of these drunk idiots would stand in his way until he caught sight of a tangle of red hair in the center of the chaos. Max. Of course.
Max was on top of a girl, fists flying, teeth bared, and not a single person seemed interested in stopping her. She fought like a hurricane-furious, relentless, refusing to be overpowered.
Reminded him of someone.
Billy didn’t hesitate. He dove straight into the mess, dragging Max off the other girl with a force only a brother could muster. She wriggled and thrashed, but he locked his arms around her, not letting go.
“Enough, Max!” he shouted, voice thundering in her ear. He peeked at her pale face, seeing her nose was bloody. A stiff knock to the nose, he guessed. “You made your point. Let’s go.” They both stared down at the sobbing girl on the ground, blood dripping from her face. Billy’s eyes flashed with irritation. But he didn’t wait for her to argue; he was already steering her away.
“Get off me! I’m not going anywhere with you!” Max spat, kicking and clawing, fighting for every inch of her freedom.
Billy gritted his teeth, never loosening his grip. “Keep it up, shitbird, and you really will be on your own.” He bulldozed through the crowd, hauling her outside, determined to get her out no matter what.
“Screw you!” Max slurred, shoving at him, her eyes full of fire even as she staggered out of his hold. No matter how drunk or upset, she wouldn’t let anyone-especially him-call all the shots.
“Max! What the hell-” Tony’s voice cracked through the night as he ran outside, but he froze when he saw Billy, the tension snapping between them. "Whoa, you're Billy Hargrove! Billy fucking Hargrove is at my party?!" He exclaimed enthusiastically.
Billy glared, voice dripping with disdain. “So, this is your idea of a party?” But Tony was too wasted to care, smirking and tossing an arm around Max like she was a prize to be won.
“Hell yeah, and I got this one with me all night,” Tony boasted. He pulled Max closer, but she jerked her arm free, eyes blazing. “Get off, asshole.” she snapped. Billy stepped in, his posture rigid, ready to settle this the hard way.
“You’ve got five seconds to let go of my sister, or I will pound you to the fucking ground” Billy warned, voice cold as ice. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
The threat landed. Tony’s drunken confidence vanished, and he backed away, hands up. Billy’s lips curled in a satisfied smirk-sometimes fear worked better than fists.
“Hey, man, I’m not looking for trouble,” Tony mumbled, eyes darting between the two siblings.
Billy nodded and pursed his lips, barely containing his own irritation. “Good choice. Max, let’s move.” He grabbed her arm, gently this time, and pulled her along. Max yanked her arm away.
The fight wasn’t over between them, not by a long shot, but for now, Billy wasn’t letting her out of his sight and Max wasn’t about to let him win this battle without a fight.
“No! I don’t want to go. I just want to stay-” Max’s words splintered, unfinished, frustration and exhaustion muddying her voice as the alcohol steadily chipped away at her resolve. She wrenched her arm from Billy’s grasp and sank into the wet, dewy grass, her hair falling over her face like a curtain. Billy could still see the quaking of her shoulders…no matter how much she tried to hide, her sobs were unmistakable.
A familiar ache settled in Billy’s chest. For all their constant bickering and his tough exterior, seeing Max collapse like this triggered something deep in him. Whatever happened tonight must’ve been awful-he’d never seen her unravel like this, not even during their worst fights. Beneath his gruff attitude was genuine concern, even if he rarely showed it outright.
He crouched nearby, keeping a careful distance that balanced his protective instinct with Max’s need for space. His voice dropped, losing its usual sharpness. “Hey.” The word sounded awkward, almost forced, but sincere in its intent.
Max turned away, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you.” For a moment, she seemed so much younger, her defenses stripped away. Billy didn’t push; he knew better than anyone how stubborn she could be, and how much it mirrored his own brand of stubbornness.
He softened, even if only a bit. “Look at me.” There was no command this time, just a quiet plea.
She stayed hidden, stubbornly silent. Billy hesitated, then reached out carefully-not the fast, rough movements most expected from him, but slow and deliberate. He gently lifted her chin, patience in his touch.
Her eyes were red, and not just from the alcohol. Billy took in the sight, the pain written clearly across her face. And it wasn’t because of her bloody nose.
“Oh,” he murmured, softer than he meant. “Red…” The old nickname slipped out, and for a split second, their history flickered between them-bitter, sweet, always complicated.
That nickname, a relic from better days, echoed. They’d never been the kind of siblings who traded gentle support, but sometimes their odd, rough love broke through in unexpected moments.
And something in her cracked. The wall she kept up, especially with Billy, crumbled just enough for him to see the pain underneath.
“It’s different this time,” she whispered, fragile with honesty.
Billy’s expression changed-not confusion or annoyance, but something closer to understanding. He’d heard her stories, knew about her breakups with Sinclair, her drama. He didn’t need details; her pain was enough. Whatever their past, tonight he was the brother who listened.
“Yeah?” he said, letting her steer the conversation.
She nodded, tears streaming now. “He meant it.” The words hung between them, heavy with loss.
Billy exhaled, glancing at Steve who got out of the car- silent backup-then refocused on Max. For once, his impatience was nowhere in sight.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. We’ll deal with that later.” The promise was vague, but real.
Max let out a shaky laugh, halfway between relief and disbelief. “That’s your advice?”
He smirked, something familiar in it. “No. My advice is you’re freezing, you feel like shit, and you made a dumb decision tonight and I suggest we get the fuck out of here before it gets worse.” He didn’t sugarcoat, never did. But sometimes that blunt honesty was exactly what she needed. “Who knew you’d be an even worse drunk than me…”
“Thanks,” she replied, sarcasm laced in the word, but for once, she didn’t sound angry. “I learned it from you.” She didn’t mean it in a hostile way and Billy thankfully didn’t take it that way. But the subtle ache in his chest only grew more. He should’ve been a better example for her. All those years he missed being a total fuck up to her.
At least now, he could find a way to make up for it.
“Well, I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, Red. Promise.” The statement held more weight than he let on, their odd connection surfacing in the midst of chaos.
Max wouldn’t say so, at least not tonight, but she was relieved he’d come for her.
She looked at him finally, eyes searching for something familiar. For once, she found it.
“You’re not mad?” she asked, tentative.
Billy shrugged, half teasing. “I mean, I reserve the right to be annoyed later.” It was a joke, but also a warning. “Especially if you throw up in my car. So, if I need me to stick my greasy fingers down your throat and get it all out now, you better let me know in advance, shit bird.”
A reluctant smile crept across Max’s lips, the first sign she’d let herself soften. Their connection showed up in small ways; neither would ever admit how much it meant.
“There it is,” Billy said with a faint grin. “Thought I lost that.”
Steve approached, slower, hands in his pockets. “Hey. You okay?” He nodded towards her obvious bloody nose. She took a sloppy arm and wiped it clean.
Max squinted at him, suspicion lingering. “Why are you here?”
“Backup,” Steve replied lightly. “Also, your brother drives like a maniac when he’s worried.” The comment drew a groan from Billy-defensive, but not angry.
“I do not-”
“You do,” Steve cut in.
Max let out a weak laugh, the tension easing just a little.
Billy rolled his eyes, but there was no real heat behind it.
“C’mon,” he said, standing and offering his hand-awkward, but genuine. “Let’s get you home.”
Max hesitated, uncertainty flickering. “I can’t go home. Not like this. Mom will kill me.” He scoffed. Course Susan would find some way of blaming this on him. He didn’t feel like hearing that shit again. Not when he escaped it after finally moving out.
“Then you can stay with me. You and Jane.” Max hesitated again at first. But she took his hand, holding steadily. Neither would leave the other behind.
They both stood now. Facing each other with a few words lingering. Waiting to be said.
“Thanks…” She mumbled softly, her eyes glancing up at him.
He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Didn’t tease her. Just nodded once. A ghost of a smile on his lips.
The drive back to Billy’s place was quiet. Max and Jane had claimed the entire back seat, instantly passing out, heads smooshed together like two sleepy puppies after a tornado of a night.
Steve stared out the window, remaining silent during the drive.
Billy kept his eyes on the road, but not before glancing in the rearview every once in a while.
Steve’s silence clearly had a time limit, because suddenly a thought crept up in his mind: “They’re staying the night at the apartment?” he whispered, like he was asking for some nuclear launch codes.
Billy sighed, lowering the window and lighting a cigarette with the exhaustion of a man who’d seen too much. “Mhmmm…” He answered, cool and collected, blowing smoke directly out the window.
“How do we-how are we going to explain-you know?” Steve gestured at himself with all the subtlety of a mime having a breakdown.
Billy didn’t even blink. “What, two guys can’t be roommates now?” He snickered, flicking the butt out the window.
Steve huffed. “There’s only one bedroom. In case you forgot?”
Billy shrugged, lips twitching. “Just climb back in through the window, you used to love doing that shit in our last place.”
Steve groaned. “We’re on the third floor this time, man! You climb through the window!”
Billy, stopped at a red light, turned with a look that said, “Try me,” daring Steve to escalate.
Steve pouted, crossing his arms with all the dignity of a wet kitten. “I can... I can figure it out.” He stuttered, shaking a bit of unruly locks from his forehead.
“Yeah. You do that, Harrington.” Billy let a smirk settle in, clearly savoring the win.
A beat of silence passed before Max and Jane, apparently still awake, chimed in from the back.
“We know you’re sleeping together,” Jane mumbled into Max’s hair, her voice thick with sleep but her wit perfectly sharp.
Max didn’t even open her eyes. “Yeah, you two make it so obvious. It’s disgusting.” She grimaced.
Billy and Steve stiffened, the cigarette dangling so precariously from Billy’s lips, it was practically a fire hazard.
Art for my Harringrove Soulmate AU fic, "The Brown Leather Woman" (link is to my AO3 to read the fic)
Def was not absolutely losing my brains as I tried to finish this drawing while my iPad died and I listened to Mistress Isabelle Brookes & Lux Noir kiki on my phone.
I found this fic deep in the drafts of my Google Doc's. I started writing it 4, maybe 5 years ago now?? I lowkey was fucking with what I had when I re-read it, so decided to finish it! Stranger Things has now since ended, the writing was awful, this is a fun fix it fic of everything I wish was explored (+ a whole soulmate harringrove au tossed in) because the Duffers can never make a decision on their own damn project.
I say let 'em all get drunk, work out their feelings, and be in love.
Thank u for all the love I've already received on the fic! Will hopefully post the last chapter of it this week <3 It's been plaguing my brain to finish.
Something distinct, persistent, lingering like the ghost of its previous owner.
The notes of the scent are complex. There's the sharp tobacco-tang of cigarettes, but everything smells of cigarettes, especially if you buy it second-hand from an army supply store. Underneath it, leather, soft and aged and well-worn, much loved. Then spices, only the warmest, deepest tones of a gentleman's perfume surviving deep in the folds of the lining.
And something else, the faint memory of sweat, the musk of another man's skin.
The first time Steve puts on the brown bomber jacket, grabbed hastily from the rack for being roughly his size, he's hit with that smell, and something that almost feels like recognition.
But the world is ending, again, Hawkins in danger of being split apart, and Steve's mind does not hold on to it as he wanders into the Upside Down with his friends.
After, there's the smell of gasoline and gun powder, the smell of battle, overpowering everything.
But the jacket has grown on Steve, he keeps it, takes it home. Buys some leather cleaner, airs it out in his backyard by the pool for two weeks.
It smells fresh afterwards, a little bit like the pine trees growing behind Steve's house but in the deepest folds of the lining, the other smell remains. The other wearer. That sense of recognition scratching somewhere at the back of Steve's brain.
Steve wears the jacket again, for the final battle. It's sturdy, thick, feels safe. He almost ruins it when he gets covered in goo. But Steve holds on to it. Later, he goes to five different dry cleaners until someone agrees to try and save it.
When he gets the jacket back, its nothing but pristine. The outside professionally conditioned and sealed, the inside steamed and the lining mended. It looks like the same jacket. But it feels different.
It takes Steve a while to figure out what it is that's missing. But when he does, he presses the jacket to his face and tries to find the notes of spices and musk, looks for the memory that has been scratching at the back of his brain. He mourns, when he can only find the scent of detergent and leather conditioner, like he's lost an old friend.
Life only moves in one direction, which is forward. The kids graduate and leave for college, Steve buys a pick-up truck from his coach salary, a 1984 blue Chevy Silverado, pays it off in a bunch of installments all on his own. Keeps the jacket in the backseat. It's sturdy, thick, feels safe, smells like him now, and nobody else.
He drives his pick up truck to Philadelphia. Meets Robin and Jonathan at that weird uncle's house. Nancy can't make it. She's too busy reporting on growing tensions in Iraq. Steve doesn't want to hear about wars anymore. No matter how far away they might seem.
On the way back to Hawkins, he passes a figure walking along the side of the highway, going in the same direction. Hair long, curls some kind of dirty-gold but the beard covering his face dark, almost black. A vagrant or a veteran, a hitchiker perhaps. Something like recognition scratches on the back of Steve's brain.
He pulls over, driven by that something that now almost feels like compulsion, he stops, waits for the man to catch up, head twisted to get a look, but the bed of his pickup constructs his view. The scratch is so bad suddenly, Steve can't wait any longer, he has to meet the guy head on. So Steve puts on his brown bomber jacket, because it's thick and sturdy, because it feels safe, before he opens the door and steps out on the shoulder of the highway to meet him.
It's windy here, on the plains of Indiana, among the fields. It's open and empty.
Empty except for Steve, looking at Billy Hargrove, whose dirty-gold curls have grown too long, blowing in the wind, and whose blue eyes go wide before his bearded face scrunches up in a laugh.
"Harrington." is the first thing he says, "Why the hell are you wearing my jacket?"
This bingo is a super low-pressure, fun fandom challenge with the goal of creating new summer-themed fanworks for Harringrove.
Take a prompt and run with it - all interpretations of them are allowed!
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Art by the amazing @safk-art 💜 Harringrove Summer Bingo is a sibling event of Harringrove Winter Bingo and Metalsandwich Bingo
Billy was reckless in a way that was just on that side of scary, because he’d take his eyes off the road to grin over at Steve like a maniac and Steve’s eyes would widen, watching the speedometer tick up behind the dash, music blasting from the stereo.
He moved so fucking much. He’d hit the wheel with the heel of his palm, bop his head, sometimes he’d bounce his entire fucking body if he really liked a song. The faster the better.
Steve liked the thrill, honestly. Billy let him roll the windows down so wind whipped through the car, making his eyes water because Billy drove so fucking fast.
It was their weird little ritual. Steve didn’t know what normal friends did anyway – he’d realized over the last few years that he didn’t actually have any of those, probably never had. If Billy knew, he certainly didn’t show it, which told Steve he liked doing this just as much as Steve did.
Steve would tumble into the passenger seat and Billy would peel out of his driveway like the road was on fucking fire, music already blaring and they’d just go. For as long as Steve needed, really, because Billy’s energy was goddamn endless. At some point Steve would start to get tired, the adrenaline of the whipping wind and Billy’s reckless behavior finally wearing down his brain so he could maybe get a good night’s sleep for once. Every time Steve started to wilt, Billy still looked like he could go for fucking days.
Steve asked him, one time, what Billy did with all the leftover energy after he dropped Steve back at home.
Billy had looked over at him, smiling with his teeth, leering. Moved to the beat, making an obscene motion with his right hand in time. Grinned even wider when Steve turned red and had to look away.
It was intoxicating, just watching him. Even if he was a total asshole. And gross.
Steve never got bored.
He was starting to remember Billy’s favorite songs, too. He’d always had a decent mind for music, and Billy was just so easy to read, the way he’d rock when something good came on the radio, pleasantly surprised, because Steve didn’t let him play his tapes every time. He’d go crazy eventually if they did that. Billy always complained when Steve switched on the radio, flicking through the channels, but he never stopped him, just dialed up the volume when something “worth listening to” came on and – and fucking rock.
Steve thought it was maybe the hottest thing he’d ever seen, watching Billy’s manic grin break across his face, left hand slamming down on the wheel, right reaching to crank the volume. He’d be already bouncing with the beat, leveraging himself with the foot not on the gas so he could lift his hips and rock his whole body in the seat, curls bouncing with the motion. He always had his shirt unbuttoned practically to the navel, and when he moved the collar would fall open around his chest. His head would bob, dipping and sometimes rolling back and Steve wanted to fuck him so bad it actually hurt. Wanted to put Billy’s rock mix in and crank up Panama by Van Halen and watch Billy bounce to the beat in his lap, watch his head tip back in a different kind of ecstasy.
Steve didn’t even need help to sleep, didn’t need adrenaline to turn his brain off tonight but he was so worked up just thinking about it that he called Billy anyway.
Billy never said no.
Maybe that was what made Steve feel bold.
He picked up, he said you’re paying for gas and I’m picking the music which meant yes, and Steve knew that if he reached for the radio anyway Billy would let him, but that wasn’t in the plans tonight.
He threw himself into the passenger seat like he was tired even though he wasn’t, because he needed an excuse, and because he got so fucking high on the way Billy grinned when Steve’s energy spiraled higher and higher the longer they spent together. Like maybe he was just as interested in working Steve up as Steve was in making Billy bounce.
Steve was feeling bold tonight.
Billy peeled out of the driveway without saying anything, and Steve was fine with that. Rock music was blasting, one of Billy’s mixes. Steve recognized it just by the Poison song that was blaring, but he wasn’t going to show his hand that early.
“Y’okay, pretty boy?”
Steve looked over, confused as to where that was coming from – they were five songs in and Steve was letting his energy slowly bleed through.
He’d forgotten to open the window. Usually he rolled it all the way down to feel the wind whip, but he was so high on the feeling of I’m gonna fucking do it tonight that he hadn’t even noticed.
“I’m great,” Steve said, grinning because they were far enough into the night that he didn’t need to pretend to be exhausted anymore.
Billy looked over at him like he was going to ask more, but then Rock You Like A Hurricane came on and Steve knew he’d forget for the next four minutes, because this was one of Billy’s favorites and Billy was already reaching over to blast the volume.
They were kind of in the middle of nowhere by now, cruising down a road that ran parallel to the train tracks, through the woods. It was late. No one was around, and Billy’s favorite song was on and Steve was feeling bold.
And yeah, normally Steve’s heart rate would kick up anyway when this one came on, because he still remembered the first time he’d seen Billy, pulling into the school lot with it blasting through the speakers, looking like he’d just stepped out of a damn magazine. Normally his heart would start thumping because Billy fucking loved this song and he’d rock. Steve knew he would rock if he let him, knew he’d get to watch Billy move, but that wasn’t in the plans tonight.
“Pull over.”
“What?” Billy snapped, sounding scandalized, yelling over the pure volume rattling the car.
“Pull over!”
And Steve knew all Billy wanted to do right now was grind his boot into the gas even further, but instead he made a feral sort of growling sound and pulled over, slamming on the brakes and throwing the car into park.
Billy grabbed the volume dial and yanked it down, which was a shame, because Steve was sure the Scorpions weren’t meant to be listened to quietly.
“What,” Billy said again, glaring at Steve, but Steve could see the flicker of something – concern, he realized, because Steve hadn’t rolled down the window, and had asked him to pull over, and Steve knew this was Billy’s favorite song.
Steve was feeling bold.
He reached for the stereo and cranked the volume all the way back up. He felt better instantly, the bass drum rattling his ribcage.
He grabbed Billy by the collar of his open button down and kissed him.
Billy went stock-still just long enough for Steve to wonder if he’d royally fucked up before he just rolled with it, recovering from the shock and kissing back.
Steve knew he’d be a good kisser, because, yeah. But throwing himself into it now, he couldn’t help wondering why they hadn’t been doing this the whole time. He could have been bold so much sooner, if the way Billy was practically devouring his mouth was anything to go on.
And then Steve wasn’t thinking much of anything at all, because Billy was fucking climbing over the center console and –
Steve yelped involuntarily when Billy abruptly grabbed the lever to slam his seat back, giving him a brief moment of vertigo before his stomach swooped for a very different reason as Billy settled firmly into his lap and kissed him like he was starving.
There was the third chorus, the familiar guitar riff mounting and Steve’s hands flew to hold on to literally anything as Billy rocked.
He was going to die like this. He had Billy Hargrove in his lap and he was going to die. His heart literally could not take it, getting fucking exactly what he’d been fantasizing about after so many nights of adjusting himself while Billy’s eyes were on the road for once. Scorpions was blasting but every sound Billy made went straight into Steve’s mouth, so he heard them all anyway.
Billy’s mouth was wet and unbearably hot, and Steve couldn’t get his breath under him. His bones were rattling with the base, ears thrumming with his blood and too much noise.
Steve was desperate to get his hands on Billy, so he shoved one inside the open button-down and around, palm splaying over the curve of Billy’s ribs, fingertips on his spine. His skin was burning. Billy shuddered a little and didn’t stop kissing him. Steve was so focused on trying to crawl under Billy’s clothes, into his skin if he could, that it was hard to focus on being coordinated.
The kiss devolved into a messy slide, just Billy’s lips catching and slipping on Steve’s, and too much tongue, and, and, Billy broke away from his mouth for just a second to mouth sloppily down Steve’s jaw. It was good, so good, the heat of his breath intensified by the wet of his tongue on Steve’s skin and Steve actually couldn’t take it, so he grabbed Billy by the hair to hold him still while Steve dove back into his open mouth.
The song finally changed, because apparently they’d been making out for four full minutes, and Steve recognized the opening bars immediately.
He laughed, a giddy, breathless sort of sound, and managed to get out “is this Jet?” like he wasn’t sure, like Billy had actually kissed him stupid, like Steve hadn’t lost his breath watching Billy move to Cold Hard Bitch a dozen times before.
Practically the moment the name was out of his mouth Billy made a pained sort of moaning noise and muttered back “shut up” and rocked, so Steve did, because he was feeling smug as fuck but Billy Hargrove was grinding in his lap like there was no tomorrow and that was definitely more important. And memorizing Billy’s music worked, apparently, because then Billy was sliding down his body and had Steve in his mouth even before Nic Cester sang the first on my knees.
Thing is, you can't fight the weather. You can try, and Billy Hargrove certainly seems to be, but for the first time ever Steve Harrington is watching Billy lose a round.
He's actually never seen Billy look so.... Human.
The untouchable sun of him is gone, hidden behind January frosts and crunchy snowfall. The harsh bite of the wind has taken hold of Billy's curls, yanking them like a crotchety toddler.
Billy's cheeks are pink, rosy and slightly red-hued. Bitten by weather and teeth alike, his lips are cherry-red and swollen.
And he's shivering.
One thin layer of denim and a frankly slutty little heart cut-out at his hip aren't offering much against the cold, haven't been for the last two weeks. When Billy cradles the cherry of his cigarette, shielding it, his knuckles are split and bloody.
Steve's shrugging off his jacket before he even thinks about it.
Billy barely reacts to his approach, like the lack of bold sunshine and heat has simply sapped him of energy, like he's Superman long past due a recharge, but he does react to the body-warm, thick winter jacket that Steve drops over his shoulders.
"What the fu—"
"Just fucking take it."
Billy blinks at him. Unprotected, the wind snuffs out the fragile glow of his cigarette. For one moment, he seems unsure of which part of all this to be angrier at.
"Take the jacket, Hargrove," Steve repeats, yanking it down around him properly. He's only been without it for a few seconds and he can already feel the cold leeching into his bones. "I have another one in the Beemer anyway."
"What am I, your fucking girlfriend?" Billy snaps, but the notable part of it all is he doesn't fight it.
"You're pretty enough to be a girl," Steve mutters before he can think better of it. "I know better than to expect you to put out, though."
He's pressed his luck enough for one day. He can see the fight clawing at the back's of Billy's teeth and beats a hasty retreat.
It's right to the end of the day when Billy finds him again, throwing the bunched up jacket at his face with enough force it hits like a brick.
Keep it.
It's on the tip of Steve's tongue, the scent of Billy's aftershave clinging to his lungs, but then he thinks about it.
There's no harm in carrying two jackets for a while, he decides.
He watches as Billy cuts the engine, one hand draped over the wheel, the other brushing through his hair as he leans back in the seat. He’s talking about nothing— music, some fight he got into, the usual— and Steve’s only half-hearing it, half-watching the way the light catches the curve of his jaw when he drags on the cigarette.
“You good?” Billy’s voice snaps him out of it, he’s giving him this knowing look, smirk tugging.
Steve blinks eyelids suddenly feeling very heavy. His eyes flicking away to stare out the windshield, slouching down in the seat. “Yeah,” Steve muttered. “Just—fried.”
“That’s the whole point, Harrington.”
The car is warm and for a long moment it’s mostly quiet besides the low hum of the radio and the ticking of the engine cooling. Eventually he glances back over and Billy’s looking right him—steady and unreadable.
For a second Steve thinks he might be about to say something that matters. Instead Steve looks away, breaks the silence between them.
“You ever think we hang out too much?”
Billy raises his eyebrows, exhales through his nose, laughing softly. “Why, you getting tired of me?”
“No. Just thinking, I guess.”
Billy reaches over settling his hand on Steve’s knee, deliberately sliding higher, thumb pressing slow circles into the denim, dragging across the seam of his jeans in a slow absent line. “Well how ‘bout you stop thinking. Probably not one of your strong suits.”
Steve can hear the shift in Billy’s breathing, feels it echo in his own chest. He’s closing the space between them and Steve knows— they weren’t just here to smoke.
“You gonna look at me or just keep pretending you don’t want to?” Billy murmurs.
Suddenly Steve is definitely too high. Doesn’t stop him from turning his head, and that’s all it takes. Billy’s cigarette ends up in the ashtray, his hand moving to the back of neck. The air between them shifting—warm, close, humming with static. Just like the last time it’s already almost too much.
Billy doesn’t waste much time before leaning in, so close he can feel every exhale. “Still good?” Steve nods his fingers catching on Billy’s jacket.
He can smell smoke, weed, and something clean under it— maybe shampoo or detergent—Steve doesn’t know but it’s messing with his head.
When Billy kisses him, it’s soft at first—unhurried, almost thoughtful. But it’s not long before Steve’s on top of him, straddling his lap in the cramped space, his jeans bunched around one leg and Billy’s sweatpants halfway down his thighs. Billy murmuring in his ear, fingers digging into his hips, gently guiding his movements. And it’s good—so fucking good that Steve doesn’t know why he was ever pretending in the first place.
i bet on losing dogs - steve harrington x billy hargrove
Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove
Main Masterlist
Steve Harrington Masterlist
Billy Hargrove Masterlist
Summary:
Billy and Steve form an unlikely relationship that turns into…more? But they’re not in love, definitely not.
i know i could have loved you
but you would not let me
Warnings:
Smut (18+), mutual masturbation, handjobs, oral (both m receiving), fingering, anal sex (both receiving), spit, cumplay, Steve has very confusing feelings about his sexuality, panic attack, Billy is a dick, angst, the word “cock” is used about a million times
Word Count: 12.5k
A/N:
WOW okay so this is the longest thing I’ve ever written. I feel attached to it! I hope you enjoy. I love hearing your thoughts ❤️
—
Billy Hargrove was fucking infuriating.
It was the way he thought he was better than everyone. The way he was better than everyone. The way he came in and took over Steve’s spot at Hawkins, took over all his former friends and his spot on the basketball team and the ladder of popularity. The way he carried himself with such confidence, the way he wasn’t scared to get up in Steve’s face or even touch him to intimidate him.
And it worked. Steve hated that most of all.
And he hated the way he couldn’t ignore Billy, the way he couldn’t stop thinking of him. The way he’d catch glimpses of his body in the locker room and quickly look away. But Billy always saw. He always watched Steve openly, a smirk on his stupid face. He knew that Steve watched him, and it gave him a sick satisfaction.
Billy liked to play games. When they would be at basketball practice, he would always target Steve specifically, always finding reasons to be as close to him as possible so he could whisper his taunts in his ear. Billy told himself it was about getting under Steve’s skin, but the truth was that he just liked being close to the other boy.
The first time Steve and Billy really talked was after a basketball game. It had been an intense one, Hawkins had won but only barely. Truthfully, Billy had carried the team. Afterwards the team was celebrating in the locker room, and Steve slipped out back for some fresh air.
“Good game,” the low voice had come from Steve’s right. He turned, seeing Billy leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his hand, shirtless with nothing but those little basketball shorts. He didn’t mean to stare.
Billy had smirked, pushing off the wall and walking towards Steve. “You planted your feet.”
Steve looked away, not wanting to admit he’d taken Billy’s advice. “Yeah, well.”
“Worked, huh?”
Steve didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Yeah.”
Billy blew his smoke out in Steve’s face. Steve had smoked cigarettes before, but he still hated the smell of the smoke. He coughed as he waved it away. “Can you fuck off?”
“Why?” Billy asked, cigarette hanging from his lips. “Don’t you enjoy my company?”
“Not really, no,” Steve grumbled under his breath. “I wanted to be alone.”
“Don’t want to celebrate with the rest of us?” Billy gently punched Steve’s chest. “Come on, pretty boy.”
Steve’s hand came up over his chest where Billy’s hand had made contact. He didn’t understand the electric feeling it left behind. It was like how Nancy had made him feel, only…different. Stronger. More intense. He didn’t like that at all. “I just didn’t feel like it.”
Billy examined the other boy’s face. “Suit yourself, Harrington.” He flicked his finished cigarette on the ground before beginning to saunter back to the door. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Steve didn’t know what the hell he meant by that, but he had no plans to rejoin the team. He had too much on his mind, and Billy was a major part of that.
It was a week later when they were assigned to be partners for their history project. Steve felt sick to his stomach when he saw his name next to Billy’s. He didn’t want to have to interact with him any more than he had to.
“I can come to your place after school,” Billy had said after class, seeming completely uninterested. “I can’t fail this project, if I get another F in this class I’m off the team.”
Steve had just nodded. “Yeah, okay. My parents are never home, so.”
That day, Steve sped home from school and cleaned his entire room. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much, but he didn’t want Billy to see his room a mess. He wanted things to seem perfect.
For some reason.
When he answered the door to Billy, he didn’t understand why he felt so nervous. It was just Billy, his annoying teammate/classmate/nemesis. Steve hated being confused by his own feelings.
“This is my room,” Steve had said, leading Billy into his bedroom. Billy made himself at home, flopping down onto Steve’s bed.
“Nice place,” he complimented. Steve found himself blushing - he did live in a nice house, he knew that, but he still felt embarrassed whenever it was pointed out.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a seat next to Billy on the bed. “I guess we should get started?”
They attempted to get started on the project, but Billy was too distracting. Not only did he demand all of Steve’s attention any time he was around, but he was also so fucking annoying. He wouldn’t stop balling up pieces of paper and throwing them at Steve’s head while he was working.
“Can you cut that out?” Steve finally snapped, his head turning in Billy’s direction. “You’re such a child.”
Billy laughed. “It’s getting a rise out of you, isn’t it?”
Steve blushed, turning back to his textbook. “No. It’s just annoying.”
Billy licked his lips, looking over Steve. He loved irritating the other boy, loved the reactions he could get from him. He liked seeing him pissed off. He thought he was kind of cute when he was pissed off.
Steve jolted at the feeling of Billy’s hand on his thigh.
“What- what are you doing?”
“You ever fooled around with a guy, King Steve?”
The question made Steve’s blood run cold. Of course he hadn’t. He didn’t like guys in that way, he wasn’t gay. He’d never had feelings for a guy like that.
“No, of course not,” Steve said, scoffing. “What kind of question is that?”
Billy shrugged. “Nothing to be ashamed about if you had. It’s just sex.”
Steve felt himself blushing furiously. “Well, I haven’t.”
Steve felt a finger on the side of his jaw, turning his head. “Look at me, pretty boy.”
Steve cautiously met Billy’s eyes. The other boy was looking at him so intently, his gaze dropping down to Steve’s lips. Before he knew what was happening, Billy was leaning in and their lips were pressing together.
Steve’s eyes went wide, but between the feeling of Billy’s lips locking with his own and his hand tangling in the back of Steve’s hair, he found himself melting into the kiss. He wondered if this was some kind of trick, some way to humiliate him again, but he couldn’t help the way he leaned into Billy’s touch, the way he wanted more.
It quickly turned into a makeout session, Billy slipping his tongue into Steve’s mouth. Steve met his tongue eagerly, moaning into the kiss as Billy deepened it. Steve’s heart was beating hard in his chest, he still wasn’t sure if he trusted Billy, and he was confused as to why he liked this so much. He was still pretty sure he didn’t have feelings for boys in that way - but Billy was making him feel all kinds of things he’d never felt before.
When Billy pulled away, Steve looked at him wide eyed, like he couldn’t believe what they’d just done. Billy’s expression was relaxed, that cocky smirk still on his face.
“We-“
“It’s okay,” Billy laughed. “It’s okay to like it.”
Billy started coming over pretty often after that. They developed some kind of strange friendship, where they would mostly sit around, talk about basketball or recent parties, and always eventually end up making out on Steve’s bed.
Billy and Steve were shirtless, leaning against Steve’s headboard next to each other. Billy had brought a porno over, telling Steve he needed to stop moping about Nancy so much and realize there were plenty of bitches in the sea.
Now, the porno played on Steve’s small color TV while the two guys sat back watching. Steve felt awkward, he’d never looked at anything like this with someone else around before. He couldn’t help how excited it made him though, his cock hard and straining beneath his shorts.
Billy rubbed his hand over his own clothed cock, watching the scene on the TV intently. The blanket covered their laps, but Steve was still acutely aware when Billy pulled his cock out of his pants and started fisting it. Steve tried his hardest to keep his attention on the TV, but he couldn’t stop looking at Billy next to him through his peripheral vision.
It only made Steve harder. His dick was painfully hard now, the constricting shorts making him uncomfortable. He palmed himself, watching Billy’s hand moving beneath the blanket. If Billy took his out, it wouldn’t be weird for him to do the same, right?
Steve reached a hand into his shorts, wrapping his hand around his cock. It was immediate relief, and he couldn’t help the low moan that escaped his mouth. Billy’s eyes darted to Steve, his hand moving slightly faster.
Steve pushed his shorts down enough to free his cock, pumping it in his fist now but being careful to keep himself covered. He tried to watch the scene on the TV - the girl was getting bent over the doctor’s table now - but Billy’s chest and abs were flexing with every jerk of his hand, and Steve found himself watching the blankets, wondering what Billy looked like.
“You like that, Harrington?” Billy asked, his voice strained. Steve panicked for a minute before he realized Billy had been referring to the video and not himself.
“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, voice weak. If Billy had asked him what color the woman’s hair was, he was sure he couldn’t have told him.
Billy chuckled. “You ever fuck a girl like that?”
“No,” Steve admitted. Most of his sexual experiences had been pretty…vanilla. Nothing like what was happening on screen. Nothing like Billy.
“Are you into anyone?” Billy asked. “Besides Wheeler, obviously.” He looked at Steve for a moment, and Steve wondered how the hell he could look so casual with this going on.
“Um…” Steve said, knowing he wasn’t. “Michelle,” he said, the first girl that came to mind.
Billy snorted. “That shouldn’t be hard.”
It was quiet again for a while, the only sounds the moaning from the TV. Finally, Billy spoke up again. “How would you fuck her?”
Steve didn’t know what to say. “Uh…”
“Don’t overthink it,” Billy said. “How do you think about fucking her?”
“Um…” Steve closed his eyes and tried to picture it. But as hard as he tried, the only thing he could visualize was Billy kissing him again, his lips trailing lower down Steve’s body, lower and lower…
“It’s not a hard question, man.”
“I guess I think about…” Steve thought about what Billy’s cock might look like. “Kissing her, all over her body…” He thought about Billy’s hand wrapped around his cock. “Undressing her, laying her down on my bed, licking her pussy.” He thought about Billy’s annoying mouth kissing down his body until he reached his cock, which was currently throbbing in his hand. “Turning her over, fucking her from behind.” Steve’s hand sped up as he thought about Billy’s lips wrapped around his cock, the way his tongue might feel, those pink lips stretched around his girth. “Cumming in her.” Steve’s head tilted back as he thought about fucking Billy’s mouth, shutting him up, cumming down his throat. He was getting close.
The muscles in Steve’s upper body tensed, his hand moving quickly over his cock, precum providing some lubricant for his hand. His eyes stay closed as he pictures Billy doing all those things to him, and more.
“You close?” Billy asked, breathless.
“Yeah,” Steve whimpered, but he was too far gone to be embarrassed about it.
“Me too,” Billy said. His eyes locked back on the TV, and Steve listened intently to the soft groans he was letting out now. It sent chills up his spine.
Billy let out a louder groan as he came, and it pushed Steve immediately into the most intense orgasm of his life, his cum spilling over his hand and all over his stomach and thighs. A much bigger mess than he usually made.
Steve reached for the tissue box on his side table with his clean hand, taking out a handful and cleaning himself up. Billy grabbed some from the box too, hand disappearing back under the blankets.
Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they were done, but it wasn’t for Billy to stand up from the bed, ejecting the tape and picking up his keys. “I’ll see you around, Harrington.”
“Uh…yeah, see you,” Steve said as Billy’s form was already retreating out of the door.
Steve jerked off another two times that night to the thought of Billy. He was confused and angry. He hated himself afterwards, wanted to slap himself for being so stupid, for even entertaining the idea of being attracted to another man, to Billy. He didn’t know what was happening to him.
Things changed after that.
Steve couldn’t stop noticing Billy now. It was torture. He was always leaned against a locker, talking to Tina or Carol or Lisa, or even Michelle. Not that Steve actually had feelings for her, but Billy thought he did, and still he caught them making out during 3rd period.
It hurt Steve, just not in the way Billy had intended.
He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Billy. He couldn’t stop thinking about what they had done together. He couldn’t stop thinking about how badly he wished he’d gotten even a glimpse of Billy’s cock that day. And he hated himself for every one of those thoughts.
He tried to bury his feelings in girls from school, even hooked up with a girl from the class above him who was home from college visiting her family. It didn’t help. He still pictured Billy when they kissed, he still thought of Billy when he fucked them. He came to the thought of Billy every time, then felt like the absolute scum of the earth for the way he felt and for using these girls.
Something had to change.
The next time Billy suggested he come over, Steve felt like he had to put a stop to it.
“We shouldn’t hang out anymore,” Steve hissed under his breath, standing in a secluded spot outside of the gym before practice.
“Why not?” Billy asked, unbothered by the news or by the idea of anyone overhearing them.
“Because, it’s not…” Steve looked around. “It’s not right.”
“What’s not right?”
Steve looked at Billy like he was crazy. “Two guys kissing. Us jerking off together. It’s weird.”
Billy chuckled, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “It seemed like you liked it a lot at the time.”
Steve blushed furiously. “I did not like it.”
“You came pretty fucking hard.”
Steve didn’t think it was possible for him to blush any harder. He was completely flustered, lost for words in his anger. And the worst part was Billy wasn’t wrong.
“We just shouldn’t do it anymore.”
Billy shrugged. “Okay. Whatever you want, Harrington.” He stubbed his cigarette out. “Are we done here?”
Steve watched him. Everything in his chest was screaming no, I don’t mean any of it, can you please kiss me again? But he doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he said, “Yeah. We’re done.”
He watched as Billy walked off, the door of the gym closing behind him.
Steve thought ending things with Billy would help. He thought these thoughts and feelings would go away and he could go back to living his life as he was. It didn’t work.
That’s how Steve found himself pacing his room a week later, fingers itching to grab the telephone. His parents were gone for the weekend again, and he wanted nothing more than for Billy to come over. He eyed the phone, wondering just how humiliating it would be to call the other man and grovel. He wondered if what was left of his ego could take it.
He snatched the phone off the receiver, holding it to his ear and listening to the dial tone. His fingers hovered over the numbers. He had the number memorized. But did he really want to do this?
Yeah. He did.
He dialed the number, holding the phone tight to his ear as he listened to it ring. He willed Billy to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Billy,” Steve said. It was all he could think to say.
Billy laughed on the other end of the line. “I’ll be over in 30.”
He hung the phone up before Steve even processed what happened. He felt relieved, but also scared. He didn’t know what would happen tonight, if they would end up going further.
He hoped they would.
When Billy showed up, he was dressed in a button down that was half undone, a cigarette in his mouth as he entered the Harrington house. Steve started to say something about not smoking in the house, but immediately dropped it as he admired the way Billy’s ass looked in his jeans.
He followed Billy up to his own room, locking the door behind them even though he knew no one would be there. Billy made himself comfortable on Steve’s bed, finishing his cigarette and dropping it on his bedside table, getting ash everywhere. Steve was annoyed, but again he didn’t say anything.
“I brought another tape,” Billy said. “Want to watch?”
“I…yeah.”
Minutes later they were back in Steve’s bed, laps covered by the blanket. It was a different scenario on the tape this time, something more Steve’s taste. The girl even looked a bit like Nancy. But that’s not who he was thinking about.
He pumped his cock in his hand, eyes drifting over to where Billy was doing the same. Billy turned, meeting Steve’s eyes, and Steve quickly turned his head. But he’d already been caught.
“Like what you see, Harrington?” Billy teased. Steve opened his mouth for a smart response but every thought was pulled from his head when Billy pushed the blanket back off his lap, revealing his hard cock.
It was beautiful. Thick, so thick, tip red and leaking. He was long, not quite as long as Steve, but nearly. Steve’s eyes were glued to it, and he subconsciously found himself pumping his hand faster. Billy didn’t miss it.
He licked his lips as he slowly began stroking his cock again, watching Steve stare. He put on a show, squeezing his balls, slowly running his hand up the length of his dick, rubbing his thumb over his slit. He brought the precum to his lips and licked it off. Steve groaned.
Neither of them were watching the porn anymore. They were watching each other, and Steve was alarmed at how much more quickly he was approaching his release watching Billy instead. Seeing him stroking his dick. Right next to him.
So fast that Steve didn’t even have time to process, Billy reached a hand over and wrapped it around Steve’s cock. Steve removed his own hand, a strangled cry leaving his lips at the sudden sensation. Billy leaned over, spitting on the tip of Steve’s dick, his hand rubbing it over his length to spread it around. Steve crawled his own hand across the sheets between them until it reached Billy’s thigh, and he moved up, finally gripping Billy’s cock.
Billy hissed, bucking his hips up into Steve’s hand. Steve’s wide eyes darted between his hand on Billy and Billy’s on his own cock, not sure where he wanted to be watching more. “Billy,” he whined, and Billy wrapped his free hand in the back of Steve’s hair to pull him in for a rough kiss.
Billy’s tongue immediately pushed into Steve’s mouth, and they made out messily as they quickly jerked each other off. Billy bit down on his lip, causing Steve to moan into his mouth. Billy reached down to squeeze Steve’s balls in his hand before moving back to pumping his cock.
“Billy…Billy…” Steve whined, bucking his hips up against the other boy as he felt himself get closer and closer.
“That’s it,” Billy said, breathless. “Say my name. I’m the one making you feel this good. Not some girl. Me.”
Billy licked a stripe along Steve’s neck and he came hard, crying out and hips jolting up as his cum spilled all over, coating Billy’s hand.
“Shit,” Billy hissed, grabbing onto Steve’s hand and encouraging him to pump him faster. “Getting close. So close.”
“Wanna see you cum,” Steve said, voice still whiney and pleading.
“Fuck, I-“ Billy interrupted himself with a loud groan as his cum shot out over Steve’s hand, onto Billy’s thighs and the blanket on their legs. Steve watched - he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so hot.
Billy brought his cum-covered hand to his mouth, licking all of Steve’s spend off of himself. Steve’s jaw dropped - he’d never had anyone do that before. Billy leaned in, pressing his tongue back into Steve’s mouth and forcing him to taste his own cum. Steve eagerly licked the other boy’s tongue clean, swallowing all of his own cum. When they broke the kiss, Billy picked up Steve’s hand, holding eye contact with him as he licked his fingers clean, too.
“Christ,” Steve said, his voice hoarse.
Billy smirked. “I thought you said it was weird to jerk off together?”
Steve blushed. He didn’t know what to say. Now that the excitement was dying down, he didn’t know how to feel. Now not only was he confused about his feelings for guys in general - but his feelings for Billy specifically. That terrified him more than anything.
Billy cleaned himself up, pulling his jeans back on. Steve tucked his own dick back away, not sure where to go from there. That was more than just jerking off together - that was something else. He couldn’t run from his feelings anymore after what he’d just done, and how much he liked it.
Steve started inviting Billy over himself after that. Apparently Billy was a busy guy, because more than half the time he’d tell Steve he couldn’t. He’d usually spend the next day in class hearing about how Billy had rocked some girl’s world.
Steve wanted to know what it would be like for Billy to-
No. Nevermind.
He invited the other boy over again that day after school.
“Sure,” Billy said, surprising Steve. “Why not?”
They didn’t waste any time pretending they didn’t want each other once they made it to the safety of Steve’s bedroom. Billy’s lips were on his immediately, shoving him back against the door with a loud thud. Steve gasped into the kiss, his hands squeezing onto Billy’s broad shoulders.
“You’ve been desperate,” Billy muttered against Steve’s lips. “Beggin’ me to come over every day. Miss my cock that bad?” He rolled his hips against Steve’s then, and Steve gasped as he felt Billy’s erection pressed against his own.
Steve didn’t say anything, his mind turning to complete mush at the way Billy was pressed against him.
“Answer me,” Billy said, pushing Steve against the door harder. The doorknob dug into his back.
“Yes,” Steve admitted.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I…” Steve swallowed. “I missed your cock.”
Billy smirked, satisfied at that answer. “Well, that’s all you had to say.” He rolled his hips into Steve’s again, causing Steve to moan. “You’re always so vocal for me, Harrington. So easy to make you fall apart.”
Steve couldn’t say anything. His eyes fluttered closed, pushing his hips against Billy’s for more friction on his cock. He was desperate for it, wanted the other boy to touch him so badly.
Billy ran his hands over Steve’s sides, causing goosebumps to cover his flesh. He rested his hands on his hips, pulling him tighter against him. Billy lowered his lips to Steve’s neck, biting and sucking along the skin. Steve moaned, one hand tangling in Billy’s blonde mullet.
Billy left marks all over Steve’s neck that night. Steve was too out of it in his own lust to notice at the time, but Billy knew what he was doing. He would bite down hard on the skin, soothing it with his sinful tongue. Steve melted into his arms.
“Keep yourself together, Harrington,” Billy said. “I’m practically holding your ass up.”
Steve snapped out of his haze. “Shit, I-“
“You don’t have to apologize for liking it,” Billy smirked. “Just tell me how you feel.”
“Felt good,” Steve said, his voice nothing but a breathy exhale.
“Yeah?” Billy rubbed his hand over Steve’s bulge, making him whimper. “You want my hands here?”
“Yes, please.”
Billy leaned in closer until his lips were pressed to Steve’s ear. “How about my mouth?”
Steve shuddered. “W-what?”
Billy slowly dropped to his knees in front of him. Steve watched with wide eyes, Billy never taking his own off of him. He began undoing Steve’s belt, his fingers unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans at an agonizing pace. Looking down at Billy on his knees for him, Steve was pretty sure he’d never been harder in his life.
When Billy pulled Steve’s jeans and boxers down to his thighs, his cock sprung up, long and hard and throbbing. Billy rubbed his own bulge at the sight, licking his lips.
“Look at you,” Billy said. “Such a pretty cock.”
Steve blushed again - god, he was always blushing around Billy. It was embarrassing.
Billy wrapped his hand around Steve’s length, slowly stroking him. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat, his eyes starting to flutter closed again before he forced them back open. He wanted to watch every second of this.
“Feel good, Harrington?”
“Mhm.” Steve slowly began thrusting his hips into Billy’s fist, which was moving much too slowly.
“Eager,” Billy chuckled. “What do you want?”
Steve whined. “Want your mouth.”
“Yeah? What do you want me to do with it?”
“Want you to suck my cock,” he said, his voice getting more desperate by the moment. He had one hand gripping onto the side of his dresser, the other gripping Billy’s hair. He felt like he might fall apart if he didn’t have something to hold onto.
“Who do you want to suck your cock, King Steve?”
“You, please,” he begged. “Please.”
“And what’s my name?”
Steve swallowed. “Billy.”
Billy rewarded his answer by spitting on his cock, spreading it with his fist. Then, he wrapped his pretty pink lips around the head of Steve’s dick.
“Oh, shit!”
Steve’s hips bucked forward harshly at the sudden feeling, his grip on Billy’s hair tightening. He watched with half lidded eyes as Billy looked up at him with his cock in his mouth.
Billy leaned forward, bobbing his head as he took more and more of Steve’s length down his throat. This was better than any girl who had ever given him head. He wondered how Billy had gotten so good at this.
Steve was groaning loudly. Billy had nearly taken all of him, something no girl before had been able to do. His eyes rolled back in his head as Billy took him all, his nose pressed against the soft curls at his base.
“Jesus Christ!” Steve exclaimed as Billy moaned around him, feeling like he could blow his load at any second. He’d never been so close so fast before, never seen anything as hot in his life as Billy Hargrove with a dick in his stupid loud mouth.
Billy cupped Steve’s balls, his dick twitching in his own pants as he sucked him deep. He got sloppy with it, drool slipping from around his lips, but it only made it better for Steve. It was so filthy, so wrong, so good.
“I- I think I’m gonna-“
Steve fisted Billy’s hair tightly and locked his eyes on his as he came down the other boy’s throat, hot ropes of cum spilling endlessly into his waiting mouth. When he finished, Billy pulled off, standing up and smashing his lips to Steve’s again, pushing his own cum back into his mouth. Steve took it without hesitation, moaning as he tasted himself on Billy’s tongue.
“Your turn?” Billy said when he pulled away, a teasing smirk on his lips.
“My-?” Steve’s eyes widened even further, tucking himself back away. “You want me to-?”
Billy rubbed over his obvious erection through his jeans. “I mean, would be nice.”
Steve flushed bright red. “I- I mean, I-“
Billy laughed. “You don’t have to.” He approached Steve again, his lips hovering near his ear. “Even though I know you want to. Don’t you want to know what it’s like?”
He did.
“Okay,” Steve said, voice small. “I’ll do it.”
Billy was smiling that cocky smirk as he moved back, sitting down on Steve’s bed with his legs spread wide. His erection was obvious in his tight jeans. Steve took slow, tentative steps towards him, eyeing him warily like he was afraid of something. Afraid of what?
Billy watched as Steve sunk to his knees between his legs. He reached forward, palming him. Billy hummed lightly, and Steve could feel him twitch beneath his hand. Did Billy want him as bad as he did?
He opened his belt, undid his jeans. Billy lifted his hips so Steve could pull them down his thighs. His thick cock slapped against his ab muscles. Steve noticed the precum at his tip immediately, and before he could think about what to do, he leaned forward and licked it off.
Billy groaned. “You like tasting me, Harrington?”
“Yes,” Steve said, savoring Billy’s taste on his tongue.
“Why don’t you wrap those pretty lips around my cock, then, huh?”
Steve’s cheeks burned. He moved in, carefully wrapping his lips around just the tip. It felt strange. The taste was different - not bad, but unfamiliar.
“Take it deeper,” Billy grunted from above him, his large ringed hand landing on the back of Steve’s head. He started pushing his head down, making Steve gag and pull off of him.
“Aw, come on, King Steve,” Billy said, patting him on the cheek. “You can do better than that.”
Steve glared at the other boy, but moved back to envelop him in his mouth again. He was prepared this time when Billy started pushing his head down.
“Watch the teeth,” Billy hissed. “Open your mouth wider.”
Steve opened his mouth so wide his jaw hurt. Billy was thick, it was hard to fit him all without hurting him with his teeth. But he did his best, and when Billy started groaning above him, he knew he was doing a better job.
“Fuuuck yeah, just like that,” Billy rasped as Steve took him deeper and deeper. “Come on, you’ve almost got it all. You can do it, pretty boy.”
Steve felt like he could barely breathe as he finally fit all of Billy’s cock in his mouth. He felt his tip pressing against the back of his throat, and he tried his hardest not to throw up as he gagged again. Billy laughed.
“Feels so good when you’re gagging on my dick,” he said, stroking Steve’s hair almost affectionately. “Look so pretty like this.”
Steve had tears welling in his eyes, but he kept them locked on Billy’s, needing to know if he’s doing a good job. He’s almost more surprised by the way he’s so desperate for Billy’s praise than he is that he’s currently sucking dick.
God, what the fuck is he doing?
Panic rises in his stomach and he pulls off of Billy again quickly, gasping for air. He thinks he might be hyperventilating as the air never comes no matter how hard he tries.
“Woah, are you okay?” Billy asked, sitting up straight. He held a tentative hand out, but stopped just short of Steve’s shoulder, thinking better of it. The guy was having an actual panic attack. “Hey, Steve - calm down.”
Steve’s head was spinning. He couldn’t catch his breath and he couldn’t calm his racing thoughts. He wasn’t gay, he knew this. He didn’t have feelings for Billy. So what was he doing? What the actual fuck was he doing? He couldn’t face Billy.
“You should go,” Steve said, not able to even look at him.
Billy was quiet. Eventually Steve heard him pulling his clothes back on. “Yeah, okay, man.”
Steve kept his eyes glued to the carpet until he heard the door close and knew Billy was gone. But he stayed on the floor, curled up in a ball, and thought. About a lot of things. About his feelings. About if it was okay to be gay. If he felt like that word even fit him. He did still like girls, after all, even if none of them had caught his attention lately. Even Nancy hadn’t been on his mind.
It had been all Billy. Maybe it had always been all Billy.
—
Steve avoided Billy at school. He would watch from the corner of his eye as Billy flirted with the girls, as the girls around him talked about dates they’d been on with him, how he’d fucked them. It made Steve sick to his stomach.
He asked Michelle out. She said yes. He took her to a movie and to get ice cream afterwards, and she was pretty and sweet, but Steve felt nothing for her. After the movie, he fucked her in the back of his BMW, thinking of Billy the whole time. When the image of him sitting back on his bed with his hard cock out and waiting flashed through his mind, he came, catching himself just in time to not call Billy’s name instead of the girl he was having sex with.
Basketball had become torture. Not only did he have to be around Billy, but they had to be so close. Billy was always shirtless in those tiny basketball shorts that fit him so tightly. Steve had to actively think about anything else to not get hard.
He did his best to avoid Billy entirely in the locker room. He would waste time avoiding the showers until everyone else was done, then he’d sneak in there. That’s what he did today, stripping off his clothes and walking into the showers once he was sure everyone else was gone. He took his time under the water, letting it run over his body and take his mind off his mess of a life.
His eyes shot open at the sound of someone walking in. Panic struck him again as he saw Billy sauntering into the showers, naked with a towel over his shoulder.
“Harrington,” he greeted like nothing had happened between them.
“Hargrove,” Steve finally said, actively avoiding eye contact with his dick.
Billy started the shower next to him and stepped under the water. Despite trying not to look at all, he finds himself watching the way the water droplets fall down Billy’s strong chest, tracing through his pectoral muscles.
Unbeknownst to Steve, Billy was returning every look. His eyes tracing down Steve’s body, looking at his cock with no shame, his chest hair, the delicious curve of his ass.
Steve finished up his shower at the same time Billy was turning his water off. Steve dried his hair as much as he could with the towel and then went to wrap it around his waist, but he was stopped by a pull on the rough fabric.
He turned, finding Billy standing much closer than he had been before, his fingers wrapped around the edge of the towel. Steve furrowed his brow at Billy, prepared to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing, when Billy grabbed him by the hips and pulled him close.
Steve’s eyes widened as he crashed into Billy’s hard chest. His dick was pressed up against the other boy’s, and he felt himself twitch to life.
“What do you want?” Steve whispered. He was close enough that he knew he’d hear.
“I think you’ve missed me,” Billy teased. “Have you come to terms with liking cock yet?”
Steve was, once again, at a loss for words. “I don’t-“
“You and I both know you do,” he said, leaning in slowly until he was placing a gentle kiss at the corner of Steve’s mouth. He slowly trailed his lips across Steve’s jaw until he reached his ear, biting softly on his earlobe. Steve gasped, his eyes falling closed. Billy rolled his hips against Steve’s, their cocks pressing together as Steve felt himself hardening. The last thing he needed was a fucking boner in the locker room showers.
“Do you want to invite me over?” Billy whispered into Steve’s ear.
Steve froze. But, god, what was the point of fighting it anymore? He nodded.
Billy chuckled as he pulled away. “I have a date,” he said. “But I’ll catch you around.”
He swung the towel over his shoulder again and left the showers, leaving Steve standing there dumbfounded. What game was Billy playing with him?
—
He didn’t have another encounter with Billy for two weeks, besides at practice, where he left him alone for once. It was strange. And, god help him, Steve missed him.
He just moped now, worse than when Nancy broke up with him for Jonathan. He was miserable. Tommy teased him endlessly, but Steve knew it would be much worse if he knew the real reason.
Steve was home, working on his homework when his mom knocked on his bedroom door.
“Steve?” She said, poking her head through the crack in the door. “There’s a friend here to see you.”
He was confused. Who would be here to see him? If it were Tommy, his mom would have just said Tommy. “Uh, okay,” he said.
His mom slipped back out, leaving the bedroom door open. Steve watched, but he knew who it was the second he saw that tight denim, smelled the cologne and cigarettes.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, feeling panicked. His parents were home for once. They couldn’t do this, especially not now. His dad would never look at him the same again if he found out what Steve had been doing.
“Came to see you,” Billy said simply. He closed the door and Steve heard the lock click. He slowly began walking towards where Steve sat at his desk, resting his hands on his shoulders.
Steve focused back on his homework - well, looked at it, at least. He couldn’t focus on anything when he felt Billy’s lips on his neck. “Come on, Harrington,” he mumbled. “You did miss me, didn’t you? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Steve shuddered. “I…I am.”
He felt Billy’s smirk against his neck. “Why don’t you come sit on the bed with me?” He pushed Steve’s homework to the other side of the desk. “Take a break, huh?”
Billy moved away, and Steve slowly stood up from the desk and followed - just like Billy knew he would. He took a seat on the bed next to him, wondering what he had planned this time. What boundary they would push, what line they would cross.
While his parents were home downstairs.
Steve prayed they wouldn’t hear any part of what was about to happen.
They started off kissing again, but Billy’s lips met his softly this time, and they moved together almost tenderly. Steve’s heart beat hard in his chest, his hand resting on Billy’s thigh. Billy reached over to start palming him over his jeans, and Steve began to unbutton his shirt.
He reluctantly pulled away from Billy’s lips to look at his exposed chest as he pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He had the perfectly sculpted body. Perfect abs, perfect pecs, perfect everything. His necklace sat in the middle of his chest, and Steve wondered what the cool metal would feel like against his own skin.
Billy reached for Steve’s shirt next, pulling it over his head. Steve felt a little self conscious - he knew he had way more chest hair than Billy, and so far chicks dug it, but would Billy?
He got his answer fast enough as Billy trailed his hand over Steve’s chest. He started pressing kisses over his neck and chest, and Steve’s eyes fell closed. He moaned, fingers trailing through Billy’s mullet.
“Feels good,” Steve breathed, feeling himself nearly fully hard in his jeans.
“Yeah?” Billy said quietly. He flicked his tongue over Steve’s nipple, making him shudder.
“Yeah.” Billy palmed Steve’s bulge harder, his neglected dick aching in his jeans. He grabbed Steve’s hand and put it over his own cock. Thankfully, he got the memo and started returning the favor.
“Do you wanna suck my cock again?” Billy asked, moving back to look into Steve’s eyes. “You don’t have to.”
Steve thought for a moment. “Yeah…I want to try again.”
Billy grinned, leaning back on his hands and nodding down between his legs expectantly. Steve rolled his eyes, but moved to his knees on the floor anyway. He undid Billy’s belt and jeans, pulling them down his thighs again. He practically groaned at the sight of Billy’s cock again.
Steve leaned forward, gathering the spit in his mouth and spitting it onto Billy’s cock. His dick twitched at the action, and Billy grabbed Steve’s face harshly, forcing him to look up at him. Steve froze, eyes wide as he waited to see what Billy would do.
“Open,” Billy said, and Steve obeyed. Billy spat into Steve’s waiting mouth. “Swallow.”
He didn’t know how he didn’t find it gross, but Steve closed his mouth and swallowed. Billy grinned again. “Good boy.” It made Steve’s dick twitch.
He let go of his face, letting Steve get back to his job. He wrapped his lips around Billy’s cock again, making sure to keep his mouth open wide as he took his thick length deeper and deeper. It was still weird, and if he thought too hard about what he was doing he might work himself into another panic attack, so he doesn’t and just enjoys the moment.
And he loves it. He didn’t realize how much Billy would be at his mercy like this, even despite the way he was grabbing onto Steve’s hair and bucking his hips up into his mouth. It was still Steve who was doing the work, making him fall apart the way he was.
Billy was groaning loudly, loud enough that Steve was worried his parents would hear. He tapped Billy on the thigh, hoping he’d get the hint. He seemed to, because he definitely quieted down, his moans turning breathy and whiney.
Steve took him all the way, only gagging a little this time. “Fuck, good boy,” Billy said, and Steve felt himself come alive from the praise.
He started sucking Billy’s dick in earnest, bobbing his head up and down and making a mess like Billy had done for him. He watched as Billy’s head tipped back, his stomach muscles tightening.
“Shit, gonna cum Harrington,” Billy warned, grabbing Steve’s hair tighter. “Can I cum down your throat?”
Steve hummed in answer, hollowing his cheeks to suck hard, which made Billy cry out a little too loud and buck his hips up. Steve maintained control, moving down to lick and suck at Billy’s balls while he stroked his cock in his fist.
“Oh, Christ,” Billy said. “Fuck, Steve-“
Steve was surprised as Billy came with a strangled groan, his cum shooting out and landing all over Steve’s hand and face. He closed his eyes to keep the cum from getting in them.
“God, you look good like that,” Billy said, chest heaving. “Wish I had a camera.”
“I have one,” Steve said, and he wasn’t sure why. “Top shelf in my closet.”
Steve felt Billy stand and move, heard the closet door open, but he was back as quick as he came. He took his seat back on the bed, and seconds later Steve heard the click and whirr of the polaroid camera.
He heard Billy pull some tissues from the box, then wiped up the mess on Steve’s face. “Thanks,” he muttered, taking a few more tissues to clean his hand.
“Wanna see?” Billy asked, looking at the photo in his hand with a wicked grin. Before Steve could answer, he turned the polaroid around, showing Steve the image of himself, face covered in Billy’s load. He felt his whole body heat bright red.
“You can’t show that to anyone,” Steve said quickly. It was obvious it was him in the picture. The idea of what would happen if it were to get out made him feel sick to his stomach.
“I would never,” Billy said. “You think I share my trophies?”
Trophy.
Before he could think too hard about what that meant, Billy was pulling Steve up and back onto the bed. He pushed him back, kissing him deeply as he slid the photo into his back pocket. Steve fell back onto the pillows with Billy climbing over him. They were both still shirtless, Billy’s pants still half undone.
He started working Steve’s jeans open, pushing them and his boxers down until they were completely off, tossing them somewhere in the room. Steve was completely naked under Billy now, something he hadn’t yet experienced.
Billy’s cock was hardening again as it rubbed against Steve’s. They kissed passionately and eagerly, tongues moving together in practiced rhythm. Steve had lost count of how many makeout sessions they’d had at this point, but this was different. This had him feeling things deep in his chest that really scared him.
Billy reached a hand between them, grasping both their cocks in his large fist. He started stroking them together, and the sensation of Billy’s hand and his cock pressing so tightly against his own had him moaning louder than he intended.
“Fuck- God, Billy-“
“Like that?” Billy breathed. “So pretty when you blush for me like that, Harrington. Such a pretty boy.”
Billy placed sloppy kisses all over Steve’s neck, chest, and stomach, working his way down. He was just about to lick along the underside of his cock when there was a knock at the door.
“Steve? Everything okay in there? I heard some weird noises.” Steve’s mom turned the doorknob, finding it locked.
Steve shoved Billy off of him, both boys scrambling for their clothes in record time. “Yeah, I’m fine, mom! We were just…watching a movie!” Steve cringed at his own excuse, Billy chuckling quietly in the corner as he buckled his belt.
“Why is the door locked?”
Steve froze. “Uh…it was an accident. I’m sorry.” Both dressed, he unlocked the door, hoping he looked casual. “Sorry, mom.”
His mom looked into the room, finding Billy sitting on the bed, the sheets disturbed but nothing else out of the ordinary. “Okay…” she said, a little confused. “Well, let me know if you two need anything.”
“Will do…” Steve said quietly as she left and he shut the door behind her again, not locking it this time. He leaned back against it. “Jesus Christ, that was close.”
“I guess after that, I should get going,” Billy said, picking up his keys and making sure the polaroid was still in his pocket. “I have a date. Sorry you didn’t get to cum.”
And with that, he was gone.
—
Steve was relieved when his parents were gone again. It meant Billy could come over without worrying about being caught.
He picked up the phone, dialing the number he had looked at so often, dreaming of calling again. He listened to it ring with baited breath.
“Hello?” Came Billy’s voice, bored.
“Can you come over?” Steve breathed into the receiver. “I…I miss you.”
Billy chuckled lowly into the phone. “Sure, Harrington.”
Billy was over in record time, which made Steve wonder if he was just as excited to see him. The only car in the drive was Steve’s, so when Billy walked up to the front door Steve was standing in, he grabbed his jaw with his strong hand and smashed his lips against his.
Steve moaned into the kiss, before realizing the door was still open and any of his neighbors could see. He pulled Billy into the house, slamming the front door. Billy pushed him up against the wall, kissing him fiercely.
“Billy-“ Steve said into the kiss.
“I missed you too, Harrington,” Billy whispered, so quiet Steve wasn’t sure he really said it.
Billy pulled away, nodding towards the stairs. Steve headed up, Billy following behind, watching his ass in his jeans. Up in his room, Steve pushed Billy’s leather jacket off his shoulders, and started unbuttoning his shirt.
“Excited today?” Billy asked, a wicked smirk on his face. He licked his lips as Steve’s fingers worked on his shirt. “I didn’t take you for desperate, King Steve.”
“Shut up,” Steve said, getting the shirt open and pushing it off. “Just wanna see you.” He leaned forward and did something he had often dreamed of doing when watching Billy in the locker room - run his tongue over the muscles of his chest. Billy gasped, surprised by his actions, but didn’t stop him. Steve trailed his tongue lower and lower, licking over Billy’s abs, down until he fell to his knees and reached the waistband of his jeans.
“God, Harrington,” Billy said, his head falling back on his shoulders.
“Want you so bad,” Steve said, pulling open Billy’s belt and jeans. He pushed them down, Billy’s hard cock springing free. Steve groaned, immediately wrapping it in his fist and licking the tip. Billy hissed, hips bucking forward.
“Shit- get on the bed.”
Steve obeyed, moving to sit on the bed as Billy stepped out of his clothes, moving to join him completely naked now. He slowly laid Steve down, kissing him with an alarming amount of passion. Steve tangled his fingers in Billy’s curls as their lips moved together.
He didn’t think this was just sex anymore.
Billy’s hands trailed up Steve’s stomach and chest until he was pulling the shirt over his head, then moving down to get him out of his jeans and boxers, too. Both boys were completely naked now, bodies intertwined as they made out on the bed. Billy’s hands were everywhere, over Steve’s sides, his back, his chest, squeezing his ass. Steve could barely breathe, the emotions swirling in his brain and chest too intense even without the way Billy was making him feel physically. They were both rock hard, cocks pressed together between them as they rutted their hips together, both of their precum coating their lengths.
“Turn over,” Billy said, and Steve froze.
“W-Why?”
“I think you know why,” Billy chuckled. “Come on, King Steve.”
Steve thought about it. If he’d thought he reached the point of no return before, he was definitely reaching it now. But he did want this - he wanted it so bad his cock was throbbing.
He turned over onto his stomach, and Billy grabbed his hips, pulling him up until he was on his knees with his back arched. He felt Billy’s hands on his ass, rubbing over the skin. He spread them and Steve heard him spit before he felt it on his hole, making him jerk forward.
“Calm down, it’s okay,” Billy said.
Steve’s body naturally clenched up when he felt Billy’s finger at his entrance. He just rubbed over his hole at first, and it felt kind of nice.
“Do you have lube?”
“Uh…no,” Steve answered. Why would he have lube? The girls he fucked got plenty wet for him.
“Good thing I brought some then,” Billy said with a laugh, moving off the bed and towards his jeans. He dug into one of the pockets, pulling out a tiny bottle before climbing back behind Steve.
“You’re gonna have to relax or it’s gonna hurt,” Billy told him.
Steve tried his best to relax his whole body, but the feeling of Billy’s finger at his entrance again had him nervous. Then Billy was slowly pushing inside, stretching him out.
Steve whined at the feeling. He could imagine the smirk on Billy’s face behind him. It felt good. Billy pushed in all the way to the knuckle, pressing against something deep inside Steve that had him gasping.
“Feel good?” Billy asked as he slowly started pumping his finger.
“Yeah,” Steve moaned, head falling forward against his pillows. He cried out when he felt Billy add in a second finger.
“You know my dick’s much bigger than my fingers, right?” Billy laughed. “If you can’t take these…”
“No, I- I can take it.”
“Good boy.”
Steve keened at Billy’s praise, his back arching as Billy pumped both fingers inside of him. “Feels good, Billy.”
“Good.” Billy pulled his fingers out, making Steve whine at the loss, subconsciously pushing his hips back. He felt Billy’s erection pressed against his thigh.
Billy opened the bottle of lube again, coating his thick cock with it. He stroked his dick, making sure it was all lubed up. He wanted to make it as comfortable for Steve as possible.
“Are you ready?” He asked, lining his tip up at Steve’s hole.
Steve grabbed onto the sheets, clenching them tight in his fists. He couldn’t believe he was actually about to do this. He couldn’t believe he wanted this so badly. He couldn’t believe how painfully hard he was just at the thought. “Yeah.”
Billy slowly pushed inside, a loud, low groan coming from his pretty lips. Steve’s eyes went wide, the feeling making him cry out again. Billy soothingly stroked his back. “It’ll stop hurting. Just give it time.”
The thing was that it did hurt, but it also felt amazing. Steve had never even dreamed of anything like this in his life. As Billy pressed in deeper, Steve found himself moaning, and he felt so full as Billy finally bottomed out.
“Fuck, Harrington, so fucking tight,” Billy groaned, trying not to cum right away. “I’m not gonna last long.”
“Please, fuck me Billy,” Steve whined, pushing back against him. Now that he’d gotten used to the feeling, he needed more, desperately.
Billy started moving his hips, the hottest moans coming from him. Steve’s eyes fell closed as Billy fucked him, holding onto the sheets and pillows for leverage. It felt amazing, like everything all at once.
Billy grabbed onto Steve’s hair, pulling his head back as he pounded into him. “Fuck, yeah, Steve. Feels so fucking good. You like that? You like getting fucked by me?”
“Yes,” Steve moaned. “I fucking love it.”
“Tell me who’s fucking you so good. What’s my name?”
“Billy,” he moaned again. “Billy, Billy, Billy.”
Billy groaned loudly, his body pitching forward as the sound of Steve saying his name over and over nearly made him cum right then and there. He pulled out and slapped Steve on the ass. “Turn over.”
Steve flipped onto his back, looking up at Billy. Billy loved how fucked out the other boy’s expression looked, like all he wanted was for Billy to stick his dick back inside him. Which he would gladly do.
Billy pushed Steve’s legs up, lining himself up at his hole again. He pushed inside faster this time, and Steve’s back arched off the bed as he whined at the feeling. His neglected cock was laying against his stomach, tip red and leaking. It twitched against him as Billy filled him again, and Billy wrapped his hand around it, making Steve moan again.
“More, more,” Steve begged.
“Such a pretty boy,” Billy praised, fucking him in earnest again. “You gonna cum from me fucking your ass?”
“Yes, yes,” Steve said. “‘m close.”
Steve opened his eyes finally, finding Billy staring right into his eyes. Steve’s went wide, seeing some kind of unfamiliar intensity behind Billy’s expression. Billy leaned down and kissed him, tenderly, as he thrusted his cock in and out.
Oh, god.
Steve was in love.
When Billy pulled back and looked him in the eyes again, something like love behind them, it shoved Steve over the edge. He came hard with a loud cry, his cum splattering up and over Billy’s fist and his own stomach.
Billy’s eyes were locked on Steve’s cock as he watched him come. He groaned - “Steve, oh fuck, Steve!” - then he was cumming inside him, the most intense orgasm of his life wracking through his body.
They caught their breath together, looking at each other with so much unspoken behind it. Steve almost said it then. I love you. I love you. I love you.
But he didn’t.
Billy pulled out, grabbing tissues to clean them both up. Steve expected him to just hand him the box, but Billy cleaned him up himself. He fell onto the bed next to Steve when he was done.
Steve wasn’t sure what to do. After having sex with girls, usually they’d want to cuddle up to him. It didn’t sound bad, but he wasn’t sure how Billy would feel about that.
He tentatively moved closer to the other boy, wanting to be close to him. His eyes slowly traveled up his body until he was looking at his face. Billy was looking right back at him. He reached a hand out, placing it on Steve’s cheek. Billy just looked at him. Steve’s heart was thudding hard in his chest.
“Go for a ride with me tomorrow,” Billy said, catching Steve by surprise. “Tomorrow night.”
Steve’s eyes were locked on Billy’s. “Yeah, okay.”
Billy smiled softly. Then he was sitting back up, reaching for his clothes.
“You’re leaving?” Steve asked, surprised how hurt he felt about it.
“Yeah,” Billy said. “I’ve…I’ve got some shit to do.”
Steve stayed in the bed as he watched Billy redress himself, combing his fingers through his mullet to try to tame the blonde curls. He pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harrington.”
“I…okay.”
He watched Billy leave, remaining in the bed long after he was gone. He had a lot to work through in his head - things were getting more intense than he knew what to do with.
He loved Billy. He was sure of it now. And that terrified him.
—
The next evening, Billy pulled up in the blue Camaro as promised. Steve had been waiting on the porch steps, maybe looking a little too eager. He walked down the steps towards the car, reaching for the passenger side door, but Billy beat him to it, reaching across and pushing the door open for him. Steve smiled softly as he slid into the seat. Billy started driving, Metallica blasting from the speakers.
“Where are we going?” Steve asked.
“Lover’s Lake,” Billy said, a smirk on his face. Steve blushed. It was already starting to get dark. He hoped they’d be the only ones there. Lovers Lake was always a popular spot on Friday and Saturday nights, but there was a chance they’d have some privacy tonight.
Billy drove the familiar route, finally reaching the wooded area and finding a spot overlooking the lake. Steve was relieved that he was right, it was deserted tonight. Billy shut the car off.
His hand tangled in Steve’s hair, just playing with the locks for a minute. It felt nice. Steve’s eyes closed as he enjoyed the feeling.
“Such a pretty boy,” Billy muttered, mostly to himself. He looked at Steve so intently it made him blush.
He pulled Steve’s head towards him, and they met in the middle over the center console. Their lips brushed together softly at first, electricity sparking through both boys’ bodies. Then Billy was pushing in harder, lips moving against Steve’s slowly but with so much passion behind them. Steve’s hand brushed Billy’s exposed chest through his button up shirt, feeling his smooth skin, his hard muscles. It was so much different than feeling up a girl, but he loved it.
Billy groaned into the kiss, playing with the hair at the back of Steve’s neck. His other hand rested on Steve’s thigh, not rising any higher yet, just holding onto him.
Steve had never had a kiss make him feel these types of feelings before. At least, not this strong. Sure he cared for Nancy, even thought he loved her, but he knew better now. He knew what he had with Nancy was nothing. The way he felt with Billy was like nothing else. He loved him.
Billy intensified the kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of Steve’s lips. He opened, gladly welcoming Billy into his mouth. Their tongues met tentatively at first, even though they’d done this many times by now.
Billy tasted like cigarettes and beer. Which might not sound like a nice combination, but Steve was obsessed. It was so distinctly Billy. It had his heart fluttering, butterflies in his stomach like he’d never felt, tingling in his skin.
He falls in love for real, and it has to be with Billy Hargrove.
But Billy wasn’t so bad, was he? The more time they spent together, the more Steve enjoyed his company, even outside of the sex. He put on a tough exterior, but when they were together, there was something behind it. Something Steve really liked.
Billy’s hand moved from the back of Steve’s head around to caress his cheek, his thumb stroking the skin there as they kissed. His lips were softer than anyone would think, so plush and pink and gentle. Steve never heard of Billy being gentle with anyone before. It made his mind race.
Billy pulled away slowly, like he didn’t ever want to stop kissing Steve. “Let’s get in the back.”
Steve didn’t need to be told twice, climbing over the seats and into the back. Billy joined him, his larger body maneuvering through the car with a bit more difficulty, even though he’d been back here with girls countless times.
In the backseat, their lips met again, kissing more frantically this time as their hands groped at each other, tearing at each other’s clothes. Steve had Billy’s shirt off in record time, needing to see him bare again. He’d been dreaming about it.
They undressed each other quickly as they kissed, Billy pulling Steve’s shirt off as Steve worked at Billy’s belt and jeans. He pushed Billy’s jeans down to his thighs then leaned over, wrapping his lips around his cock.
Billy moaned in surprise, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s hair again. “Fuck, Steve.”
Steve moaned around his cock, loving the feeling of having Billy in his mouth. He bobbed his head quickly, taking him deeply. He hit the back of his throat and Steve gagged, but he kept going. Billy’s thighs were trembling beneath his hands, and it was so hot.
“Fuck, Harrington, I’m gonna cum if you keep sucking my cock like that,” Billy said, his hand tightening in Steve’s locks, moving his head faster. He started thrusting up into his mouth, fucking his face. Spit dribbled from Steve’s mouth, coating Billy’s cock and balls and thighs. He cupped Billy’s balls in his hand, squeezing them gently as he continued taking him deep down his throat.
“You like sucking cock, King Steve?” Billy taunted.
“Mhm,” Steve hummed around Billy, causing him to hiss and buck his hips harder.
“Only mine, huh?”
Steve hummed again. Only Billy.
Billy groaned loudly, his hips canting up into Steve’s mouth and he pulled on his hair as he came in his mouth, coating his tongue and throat in endless hot ropes of his cum. Steve took it all greedily.
“Open your mouth, let me see,” Billy said, chest heaving.
Steve pulled off of Billy’s cock, keeping it all in his mouth. He opened, sticking his tongue out and showing Billy his cum covering his tongue. Billy leaned forward and licked at Steve’s mouth, tasting himself and taking it all back. Steve moaned into the kiss, loving the feeling of Billy’s tongue against his own.
When Billy pulled back, he had some of his own cum smeared on his lips. Steve wiped it away with his thumb, bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean. Billy smirked in appreciation.
Steve felt the urge again to say it. I love you. I love you. I love you.
But he didn’t.
Billy’s spent cock rested against his thigh as he reached for Steve’s jeans, undoing them and pulling them and his boxers down his thighs. “Do you wanna fuck me this time?”
Steve’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“You heard me,” Billy said, kissing at Steve’s neck. “Do you wanna fuck me?”
God, did he.
“Yes,” Steve whined, the feeling of Billy biting and sucking at his neck sending his mind into a haze. “I wanna fuck you.”
Billy pulled away, reaching into the front seat. He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a bottle of lube. He handed it to Steve, who took it with shaking hands. He looked at it like he had no idea what to do with it, even though he very much did. He was still a little sore from last night.
“Just cover your cock in it,” Billy said, looking at Steve with an eyebrow quirked. “‘s easy.”
Steve stroked his cock a few times, watching as Billy’s twitched back to life at the sight. He opened the bottle and squirted some of the lube on his dick. He was about to use his hand to coat himself with it, but Billy pushed him out of the way, wrapping his hand around his cock himself. He stroked Steve agonizingly slowly, eyes locked on his blissed-out face as he tilted his head back against the seat with his eyes closed.
Once he was completely covered, Billy moved onto his knees on the seat. Steve got behind him, painfully hard and ready. He rubbed his hands over the skin of Billy’s perfectly round ass, admiring the view from back here. Both boys were still partially clothed, jeans hastily shoved around their thighs. It made it even hotter, Steve thought, like they were so desperate to fuck each other they couldn’t wait. Which was true.
Steve lined himself up at Billy’s hole, rubbing the tip along it and spreading the lube. Billy moaned, pushing back so Steve’s tip slipped inside. Steve gasped at the sudden tightness around his head, it was so tight. He couldn’t help himself as he pushed in more without asking if it was okay, but Billy didn’t seem to mind. Both boys groaned loudly at the intrusion. Billy felt better than any pussy.
“Jesus,” Steve hissed out as he bottomed out inside of Billy. “Feels so good, holy shit.”
Billy chuckled breathlessly. “Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah.” Steve slowly pulled out until only his tip was left, then pushed in again with a loud, pitchy moan. Billy groaned too, reaching down to grasp his rapidly hardening cock.
“Fuck me, King Steve,” Billy rasped out. “Show me what you can do.”
Steve sped his hips up, thrusting into Billy quickly now. He gripped onto Billy’s hips, pulling him back against him with every thrust. Billy’s head dropped forward as he pumped his cock in his hand, and Steve thought he had never heard moans as hot in his life.
“God, feels amazing,” Billy moaned. “I’m gonna fucking cum again.”
“Yeah? I’m gonna make you cum?”
“Fuck yeah,” Billy said with a smirk, repeating Steve’s words from earlier.
Steve rubbed his hands over Billy’s skin, feeling him all over. He was the most beautiful person Steve had ever seen. And watching him fall apart on his cock was even better.
“Cum for me then,” Steve said, fucking into Billy harder. “Show me how good I’m fucking you.”
Steve reached around his body and grabbed Billy’s cock himself, jerking him off fast. Billy’s groans got louder and louder as Steve brought him to the edge, Steve’s cock pressing right against his prostate and making him see stars.
Billy came with a loud groan, cum shooting onto the seat below him, but he’d worry about that later. Steve wasn’t far behind him. He started thrusting faster and harder, chasing his own release inside of Billy.
“Fuck, fuck. Gonna cum in you. Gonna fucking cum in you.”
“Do it, pretty boy,” Billy rasped. “Go ahead and fill me up.”
Steve’s orgasm hit him like a wave, rushing through his body as he pitched forward, moaning a loud “Ahhhh!” as he came inside of Billy. Every time he fooled around with Billy he felt like he had the best orgasm of his life, but this was something else entirely. He had never come so hard, so much, in his life. He rode it out, thrusting shallowly until he was spent.
Steve pulled out, and Billy grabbed a towel from the floor to clean them (and the seat) up. He pulled his pants back up and turned over, laying on his back, catching his breath. Steve leaned over his body slowly. Billy watched him with a confused expression.
“Harrington? What are you-“
Steve pressed his lips to Billy’s. He kissed him slowly, conveying everything that had been swimming in his mind into a single kiss. When he pulled back, he looked Billy in the eyes.
“I love you.”
Billy’s eyes widened. There was a minute of silence, and then Billy was pushing Steve off of him. Steve staggered back, surprised. “Billy?”
“Don’t say things like that,” Billy said quickly, pulling his shirt back on. He was redressing as fast as he could.
“Why not?” Steve asked, hurt. He looked at Billy with his big brown eyes filled with sadness, confusion. “I mean it. I love you.”
Billy got in Steve’s face then. “I said don’t fucking say things like that!”
Steve flinched, not understanding why Billy was suddenly so upset. He hasn’t been this upset with him since they’d started hooking up. “Okay,” he said quietly, defeated. “I won’t.”
Billy backed away, looking at him like he might have something else to say. But then he grabbed Steve’s shirt, balling it up and shoving at his chest. “Get dressed. I’m taking you home.”
He climbed back into the front seat, Steve trailing behind him after pulling his shirt back on. Billy started the car and tore out of the parking spot while Steve was still buckling up.
Neither of them said a word the whole way home. Steve watched the street lights pass as they drove, thinking about what he’d done wrong. Where he had messed up. Why didn’t Billy love him back?
Billy dropped him off and still didn’t say anything. Usually he’d hit him with the “See you around, Harrington,” but not this time. Steve waited, but when he realized Billy really wasn’t going to speak, he opened the car door.
“See you,” he said. Billy didn’t acknowledge him.
Steve laid in bed that night, tears in his eyes as he hugged his pillow. He hadn’t cried like this since he found out Nancy cheated on him.
He thinks it may feel worse this time.
—
Billy didn’t talk to Steve after that. Not for weeks. Steve would try to confront him in the halls, but he would turn away, locked in conversation with some girl. At basketball practice, Billy barely acknowledged him. In the locker room, he showered and left as fast as possible. He surrounded himself with Tommy and Carol and Tina and all the other girls so Steve wouldn’t have the chance to talk to him at all.
It broke Steve’s heart.
He had gone from hating Billy Hargrove, to fooling around with him, to falling in love. And now Billy wanted nothing to do with him.
He had to do something about it.
Steve knew where Billy lived. He’d never been over, but he’d given Max a ride home. He knew the way there. He could go, confront Billy so he couldn’t run away this time.
That’s what he’d do.
Steve waited around for a while after school, giving Billy a few hours to hopefully make sure he’d be home. When the sun began to set, he grabbed his keys and made his way to his BMW.
He was glad to see there were no cars parked out front besides Billy’s Camaro. He didn’t want to have to deal with parents, he’d heard Billy’s dad was a major dick.
Steve walked up the steps, knocking on the door. He waited, looking around awkwardly. He knew Billy had to be home, his car was here.
Finally, the door swung open with an irritated-looking Billy on the other side. He was dressed in his tight jeans, maroon button up shirt that was half undone. His necklace hung between his pectoral muscles. Steve could smell the cologne the second he opened the door.
Billy’s expression darkened when he saw Steve. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” Steve said.
“We don’t have anything to talk about.” Billy went to slam the door in his face.
“We do,” Steve said, reaching a hand out to catch the door. “Please don’t shut me out like this.”
Billy threw his head back, a loud laugh coming from his chest. “It’s not my fault you got attached, Harrington. That’s cute, though.”
He turned and walked through the house. Steve followed, closing the door behind him. He followed Billy to his bedroom. It was tidy, smelled like cigarette smoke (in fact, there was one currently burning in the ashtray), and had posters of models taped to the walls. It was distinctly Billy.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked as he watched Billy fixing his hair in the mirror, cigarette back between his lips now. He exhaled the smoke as he sprayed some hairspray on a curl.
“I have a date,” Billy said simply.
Steve looked at him. “Are you seriously trying to say you didn’t feel anything for me?”
Billy chuckled as he put the cigarette out in the ashtray, walking over to the other side of his room. “No. It was just sex.”
Steve felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” Billy said, giving him a look. “Look, I don’t do relationships. It’s just sex. Sorry if you thought it was something different.”
Steve swallowed, tears welling in his eyes. He wouldn’t let Billy see him cry. That absolutely was not happening. “I guess that’s it, then?”
“Don’t take it too hard, Harrington,” Billy said, grabbing his leather jacket out of his closet. “Pretty boy like you’s got nothing to worry about.”
Billy pushed past Steve’s shoulder, and he wasn’t prepared for the way the contact would make his chest ache even worse. He left the house, feeling like he had been punched in the gut repeatedly. He sat behind the wheel of his car, watching as Billy’s Camaro tore down the street, off to meet with some girl. To forget all about Steve.
Billy gripped the steering wheel so tightly as he drove that his knuckles turned white. He clenched his jaw, willing thoughts of Steve to leave his head. He didn’t have feelings for him. He didn’t have feelings for him. He didn’t have feelings for him.
