😬🩹 for build-a-blurb ask <3
hiiii sorry this is so late! i'm shit at confessions, but i think this is pretty close 😭
"I fucking hate Hawkins," Billy huffs out once his breath catches up with him. He throws his head back, wet grass tickling the base of his skull. Allergies be damned, he feels like hell, and he's not afraid to say it. Everyone within a three mile radius of him can attest to that. "This stupid hick town-"
His companion, formerly known as King Steve, lets out a breathy laugh that's not entirely unwelcome to the ear, but everything has been pissing Billy off since the move, so he scowls in Steve's direction, careful not to move his aching head too much now, because he's started to see spots, and not the fun kind. Before he can demand Steve to answer, to say something, this fucking tree with hair smirks lazily enough for it to be considered a smile, and goes, "I bet she hates you, too."
"Well, fuck you," Billy replies, but this whole thing is so fucking ridiculous that he has to laugh. Monsters. He just fought monsters. Fucking E.T. and shit. Sure, he's been drunk, but c'mon, this... this is crazy!
"Not to worry, man," Steve drones in his best Billy impression -which fucking sucks- "first time?"
"Fuck off," Billy snorts, gingerly rubbing his tender ribs. Yeah, that's gonna leave a bruise by the morning. He's all too familiar with that particular science. "That creepy crawly motherfucker bodied you, dude. Handed your ass out."
Steve rolls his eyes with a wince and a groan that should not feel as good at it does down Billy's spine. But it does. Oh, God. Sure, he'd given up guys for good. It's not like he's immune to pretty boys. He has eyes, and Steve, Steve rules about eighty percent of his thoughts. By far the worst time in your life to get a crush.
"You're welcome, by the way," Steve says after a while.
Billy's tongue unglues from the roof of his mouth. Guess he'll just have to risk saying something stupid. Ah, well. He'll survive. Steve might not. "Hah! For what, looking pretty? Save some for the girls at school."
Steve, thankfully, doesn't read too much into that, because it's Steve. And here Billy is, engaging in a pointless inner monologue where he pretends he knows what he's talking about. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, or the magic glow from those flickering Christmas lights, but they're not blinking anymore. Steve looks really pretty in red. It's unfortunate, really. Fucking unfair. Cruel, even.
"You're bleeding."
Billy blinks, snaps back to reality. "What?"
Steve rolls onto his uninjured side, and pulls his shirt off.
Hello? How hard did I hit my head? "Harrington-" He looks down to see that, oh, yeah, he is bleeding. His right fist's split open. Huh. Shouldn't it sting? Maybe he's too used to pain for it to have any power over him. He grunts slightly when Steve clumsily wraps his hurt hand up like he knows what he's doing.
Billy swallows, watching his every move. Jeez, Steve, he wants to say, you look hot for a guy who almost died, but even he's not that bold. Leaning too far into their mostly harmless banter would make it real. Not that they'd ever be something. "Oh," Billy says in a quick, gruff manner too soft for anyone's ears. "Nurse Harrington," he gushes to save face, "you're takin' care of me? How sweet."
"Shut it," Steve groans, voice slow and syrupy sweet.
"You care about me, you-"
"You're impossible!"
"So I've been told."
"Ugh."
"I can make noises, too, ya know."
"I'm sure you can. That's pretty much all you do, man."
"You sound like you think about it a lot," Billy grins, his bloody spit bubble landing centimeters away from Steve.
"Ugh," Steve says again, but he makes no attempt to flip back over.
He's just been injured, Billy tells himself. Of course he'd move if he could.
"Are you incapable of not being gross?"
Billy shrugs, and something pops. Fuck. He won't be doing that again. "Didn't seem to bother you during Gym."
Steve's eyes snap up, locking in on Billy's face. "... Shut up, dude." He's shirtless. He's got an insane forest of curly chest hair, and he's covered in grime that Billy wants to lick off him. Steve meets his greedy eyes, and he doesn't look away.
For a second, just a second, Billy can't help but wonder if he's not the only one who enjoys their little game of cat and mouse. Being the mouse wouldn't be terrible if the cat was Steve. Stranger things have happened. Who knows. They're both pretty out of it, but aware enough.
Whatever happens... they can blame it on the midnight air. Yeah. Sounds about right. Billy flashes him a ruby-toothed smile and a puffy, purple wink. It's then when he feels pain and this other unnamed feeling.
When he goes to shut his eyes, finally relaxed, he swears he feels a pair of lips kiss the cut above his eyelid. Wishful thinking. Lips don't feel like angel wings on your skin. Nevertheless, any dream's a good dream.
Especially when it's about Steve.
