#harringrove request

Hargrove was by himself. Sat on the couch Tina’s mother decided was out of fashion and retired to the finished basement. Looks like it’s mostly meant for storage. Loads of boxes. Steve was coming down here to be alone. Get a second to breathe. Asked Billy what the hell he was down here for and turns out, for the same thing. Then he held up a rather fat joint and asked King Steve to join him.

Half a joint and the rest of the vodka bottle later, Steve’s venting to the new King Asshole.

“Girls’ are bullshit,” Billy says with a strained voice, holding the skunky weed smoke in his lungs. Exhales. Looks cool and it annoys Steve, cause he used to care about looking cool and he wishes that didn’t change. At least he didn’t hurt inside this much then. Billy passes the joint back, “They’re only good for one thing and honestly, they ain’t that fucking super at that either.”

Steve’s inclined to agree, mostly out of hurt. Maybe shit would’ve been easier for him if he did to Nancy what he’s done to all the other girls he’s been with. Unfortunately, he liked her.

“She wasn’t,” he huffs, “I mean— Nancy’s great.”

Billy snorts, leans back and wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulders. He smells like some musky cologne, beer and cigarettes. But Steve kind of likes looking at him and he’s not sure why.

“Bitch dumped you,” Billy whispers, leaning close to Steve like this is some big secret, “You’re allowed to be mad at her. Granted, I don’t know what the fuck you did but King Steve, you’re a senior in high school. Bitches come and go.”

Steve huffs again and sits back, ‘cause he can’t argue without explaining a whole bunch of weird, confusing shit he doesn’t even completely understand himself to a complete stranger. He rubs his palms against his eyes, wants them to stop stinging. Billy’s being nice now but again, he’s a stranger. And if Tommy’s clinging to him like a stubborn barnacle, he’s probably not all that kind. There was something in his eyes when he stared Steve down earlier that was scary. Because Steve didn’t understand it. If he wanted to kick Steve’s ass, he could’ve but he didn’t. Just stared at him like he wanted something out Steve but Steve still can’t figure out what.

“Sorry— I shouldn’t be whining about this shit to you,” Steve laughs, awkwardly, “I don’t even know you.”

“But I know you,” Billy replies with a smirk.

“Y-you do?” Steve looks back to Billy with hesitation, perhaps even a little fearful.

Billy nods slowly, lips pursed with the joint hanging from them. Plucks the paper from his lips and passes it back to Steve as he says, “You’re all these boring fucks care about. King Steve is the only thing they can talk about. Barely been here but I know all about you.”

Steve likes this fact but he also feels guilty that he likes that, because he isn’t supposed to care about the whole popularity thing anymore. He even blushes hearing it, shakes his head and takes the joint. Takes a small pull and passes it back because he’s already too stoned and school’s gonna be hell tomorrow.

“Yikes,” he says and Billy laughs, cruel and deep in his belly and it makes Steve feel uneasy. But he likes sitting on this couch down here, hidden behind stacks of boxes. Labeled things like XMAS DECORATIONS and TINA’S SUMMER CLOTHES.

“They like you still,” Billy whispers, smoothes his fingers down the back of Steve’s neck. Gives him chills but he doesn’t move.

“Wanna forget about her?” Billy asks then, “Just for right now?”

“Yes,” Steve chokes out in spite of how his brain’s firing off about how this is weird and he should be getting home. But mom and dad are out of town again. And he does wanna forget about Nancy. Wants to get this hurt out of his chest.

Billy’s hand drops to Steve’s lap, he pulls another drag from the joint and exhales the smoke in Steve’s face. His hands barely moving but Steve can feel it. And maybe it’s the smoke making his head feel all fuzzy and his body feel all warm. His dick’s getting hard. Because Billy Hargrove is feeling him up over his Levi’s.

His palm pushes a little harder on Steve’s crotch, his eyes look straight ahead as he finishes off the joint. Pinches the cherry between his fingers before he tosses it to the floor. Steve watches it and then looks straight ahead like Billy does. Next, Billy grabs Steve’s wrist and pulls his hand to Billy’s tight jeans. Drops it in his lap. And Steve’s filled with a curiosity he’s never felt before. He starts rubbing Billy’s crotch. He kind of wants to look at Billy’s face but he’s scared to. Keeps his eyes trained on a rolled up rug in the corner of the room.

The pressure of Billy’s palm on his cock feels nice. It’s easy to focus on it. Weed’s always made Steve a little frisky. Everything just feels hotter. Kissing feels better, eating pussy is funner and it makes his cock like, a million times more sensitive. So he’s fully torqued in his jeans. Feels like Billy is too. Which weirdly enough, turns Steve on even more and his hips kind of roll up into Billy’s touch. And it has to be the weed that makes Steve whine. He’s trying to ignore that it’s Billy’s hand on him but he can’t, really. Gives himself a moment to glance down at his hand on Billy’s lap and finds that Billy has some pretty seriously defined abs. And it’s real weird that he likes them. Definitely the weed.

Soon enough, Billy’s unbuttoning Steve’s jeans and Steve moves to help get them down his thighs, along with his underwear. His cock pops out, bounces and hangs. Billy’s also pulling his pants and underwear down and then he’s spitting on his hand and wrapping his fingers around Steve’s cock.

Steve whimpers from the wet touch, eyes rolling back in his head as his hips stutter up. Billy’s voice is quiet and strained when he asks, “Thinking about her?”

“No,” Steve confesses, looks down at where Billy’s languidly stroking him and it’s odd seeing another man’s hand wrapped around his cock. Not odd enough to stop this, though. He returns the favor, spits a glob of saliva into his palm and smears it over Billy’s thick cock. Squeezes at the base, curls his hand on the upstroke. Billy lets out a sweet, breathy noise that Steve likes a lot. Different than a girls’ moan but just as pretty, he thinks.

Steve gasps when Billy squeezes his cock a little tighter and speeds up his strokes. Quick and firm. Steve mirrors it with his own hand on Billy. Steve stares down at his own crotch, Billy does the same. The pair of ‘em gasping and moaning softly. Steve comes first, a mess on his thighs and Billy’s fist. And the blonde strokes him through it. Steve’s whimpering and it’s pretty damn pathetic the way his hips cant up in the air. Billy’s following suit soon after, jerking his hips up as he fucks Steve’s fist.

The boys sit back, hands loose around softening dicks as they pant. Steve looks down at the mess in his lap, not sure how to clean it. He glances around the room but there’s not much in here. Just the couch and boxes. So Steve leans forward, shucks off his blazer and uses that to soak up the cooling cum on his thighs and hand. Hands to Billy before pulling up his briefs and pants. And this whole interaction has sobered him up. The realization that he and the new guy have just jerked each other off in Tina’s fucking basement hits him hard and Steve needs to leave. So he does. Without a word to the guy.

And Billy hadn’t meant to fall asleep with Steve cradled in his arms, like they were lovers, like it meant something, like Steve actually... but he had. And now he was blinking awake in the small hours before dawn, with Steve sleeping peacefully beside him, and it felt right, like if Billy let himself think about it he might decide that he wants to wake up next Steve Harrington every day for the rest of his life.

But that wasn’t possible. For more reasons then Billy could even begin to list it was impossible, even if he briefly entertained the idea that the slumbering boy beside him felt the same, he quickly snapped himself out of it. Steve clearly tolerated him. Barely. Billy was a means to an end and nothing more, and if that meant he could be close to Steve, even if only physically, he would take it.

But this could only last so long. But in the light of the moon, as Billy’s free hand delicately fluttered across the bare back of the boy he would do anything for, he reasoned that he could let himself live in his delusion, if only for a little while. Just until he crept out of the house into the dark and left Steve peacefully sleeping in his bed, none the wiser.

Each delicate sweep of Billy fingers connected the beauty marks littered across Steve’s back, a mess of constellation for only Billy to know. Slowly, quietly, the blonde sat up on the bed, ready to swing his legs off and go in search of his jeans, lost in the mess of the room hours ago, but once again his eyes were drawn to the ethereal body beside. His eyes were always drawn to Steve. Always.

He leaned over and placed a soft kiss to a beauty mark at the base of Steve’s spine, his long curls brushing that pale skin ever so slightly. Before he could stop himself he slowly began to retrace those perfect constellations he had created with his fingers, lips pressed so softly to every star in the galaxy that was Steve Harrington’s skin.

It was when he was nuzzled into the brunette’s neck, having made his way to the moles and freckles there, that there was a long, slow, deep inhale from above, and looking up he was met with two drowsy deep brown eyes staring back into his pools of blue.

Billy inhale sharply and everything in his body tended as he prepared to jump off the bed and run. Run as far as he could and never speak to Steve Harrington again because he had ruined it. This was not part of their arrangement. This was not something that could be disguised as two teenage boys getting their rocks off in a convenient way, this was clearly not a product of the sexual tension between rivals, this was something more. Something that Billy couldn’t disguise, so all he could do was run.

But then... oh but then a smile spread on Steve’s face and he turned, tangling his legs in the sheets as his arms came up around Billy’s neck, dragging his tense body down to meet his, and pulling him into a kiss much too soft for two people who mean nothing to each other. Who are supposed to mean nothing. But the way that Steve was kissing him now, Billy could fool himself into thinking they meant something. No matter how impossible it is.

“Steve I-“

“Shh... we’ll talk about it in the morning, baby.” Steve whispered as he tucked a golden curl behind Billy’s ear. “Just stay with me, ok?”

“Ok, pretty boy. I’ll stay,” he replied as he curled himself around the other boy.

And he held him as he drifted into a sound sleep. Desperately wanting to believe this could work. Wanting nothing more than to wake up next Steve when daylight broke through the window. He wanted to hear the boy he adored tell him he wasn’t crazy for wanting him.

He wanted. But when that sunlight shown into the room only a few hours later, Steve woke to find that Billy had done what he did best.

With a curl of his upper lip, he growls back, “Yeah, fork it over, prick.”

“Oh,” Billy cackles, “Yes, your majesty. Here.”

Steve rips the bottle from Billy’s hand and takes a dangerous swig of it, the amber liquid burning down his throat. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the blue ones glued to his face, something insidious behind them. Steve doesn’t care, chokes down another fiery swig and exhales, his stomach swirling with heat from the booze. Hargrove keeps eying him with intrigue, a playful tilt to his smirk that makes Steve weary. He goes to stomp off, then fingers are wrapping around his wrist.

“Something bothering you?” Billy asks with a duck of his head, shining teeth bared in a smile Steve doesn’t exactly trust.

“Yeah, you.”

“Feisty, nice. I’ve heard that about you,” Hargrove beams, keeps his grip firm on Steve’s wrist and tugs him into the bathroom he’d just been told he was bullshit in.

He locks the door behind him, leans against the door and looks at Steve differently. Almost hungry?

“What’s this about? Let me out,” Steve seethes and moves for the doorknob but Billy blocks him.

“C’mon,” he pouts, “something’s bothering you, what is it?” Hargrove tilts his head, “Something to do with your stuck up girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” Steve hates the way his eyes well up with tears, hates the way his stomach drops at the mention of Nancy.

“She dump you in here?” Billy asks with this shit eating grin that makes Steve’s skin crawl.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Steve tries, ashamed of the way his voice cracks when he says it.

Hargrove pouts again, snatches the bottle from Steve’s grip and swallows some down before setting it on the counter, “C’mon, you’re King Steve, right? Bitches come and go.”

“Stop,” Steve whimpers out, bringing his hands up to his face in shame as the tears trickle down his cheeks.

Billy crowds him then, presses the small of his back against the counter and gets real close to his face. It’s threatening at first but something about Billy’s whiskey and nicotine tinged breath on his face is… hot? Oh, god. What the fuck is wrong with him? It’s the whiskey, even though he hasn’t really had much. It’s the rejection doing it. He’s not even into guys. Why the hell is Billy Hargrove of all people making his dick twitch? It makes such little sense that he’s full on crying now, sobbing into the minuscule space between them. And Hargrove’s hands grip his waist, and then he… he fucking licks the tears off of Steve’s cheek and Jesus Christ, he’s hard in his jeans from it. Steve chokes out another pathetic sob before he shoves Billy back, glaring down at him fiercely.

“The fuck is wrong with you, faggot?” Steve seethes out, pushing down another sob.

Billy scoffs, raises a brow and moves his hand to cup Steve through his jeans, “I’m not often wrong. And I’m not wrong this time, faggot.”

Steve closes his eyes as he whimpers, the warmth and firmness of Billy’s palm against his pulsing erection confirms it for the both of ‘em. Steve likes this. He actually fucking likes this. And it’s definitely because the whiskey and Nancy breaking his heart and not actually because he’s attracted to Hargrove. He thinks for a brief moment before he’s reaching back for the bottle of Jack and downs some more. He sets it back down and rolls his hips into Billy’s hand, letting another slew of tears escape his eyes. Hargrove presses into his strained erection and licks his cheek again. And it’s the oddest thing. Steve feels heat pooling in his stomach from it. Maybe it’s the whiskey. The safer thing to think is it’s from the whiskey and not from the weird, gay degradation happening.

“Poor King Steve,” Hargrove whispers in his ear, “Crying over some mediocre pussy.”

Steve can’t even fight back anymore, he’s over the fight and all he can is welcome the pleasure erupting over his body from Hargrove fondling his cock and balls over his jeans. It’s pathetic, he knows that but it feels too good and he wants more. No, he needs more. Tells Billy as much with a whimper and another roll of his hips.

“I’ll make you cry like a bitch, too,” Hargrove mumbles into the shell of his ear before dipping down to bite his lobe and tug.

The cries turn into moans as Billy bites down Steve’s neck and undoes his jeans, shoving them down his thighs and wrapping his fingers around Steve’s aching cock. The leather from the gloves is an interesting sensation, Steve likes it a lot. It’s obvious by the way he’s thrusting up into Billy’s fist and whining.

“God, you’re whiny,” Billy observes, jerking Steve’s cock dry in his palm, “That why the princess dumped you? She get fed up with how much of a bitch you are?”

“Shut up,” Steve says behind gritted teeth, fingers moving to grip the counter behind him.

“I haven’t even done anything,” Billy comments? pulling back as he scoops the precum bubbling from Steve’s dick on his fingertip and brings it up eye level, “Even your dick is weeping.”

Billy apparently thinks he’s hilarious by the way he cackles, but then he’s licking the slick from his finger and Steve’s knees almost buckle from the sight. He thinks this might be the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, and that’s alarming but something for him to consider after he’s blown his load. Hargrove drops to his knees and squeezes the base of Steve’s cock, looking up at him under thick lashes. He’s so pretty, Steve wants to touch his face, drag his thumb along Billy’s cheekbone but he doesn’t let himself. His leaking, pulsing hard on is proof enough he thinks Billy is pretty, doesn’t need to push his luck anyway. He thinks Hargrove might bite his fingers if he does so, or maybe worse, his dick.

Plush, pink lips circle the head of Steve’s cock and he’s letting out a gasp, shocked by just how much he likes the sight. He wants so desperately to touch the boy before him but he won’t let himself, no matter how much those dirty blonde curls are begging to have Steve’s fingers in them. Hargrove’s mouth is so warm and so wet as he takes Steve down. Better than any hole he’s ever been in and that’s… another thought for later. His cock twitches in Billy’s mouth, and he smirks around it, letting Steve know he felt it.

“Fuuuck,” he whines out, lips parting in ecstasy. The arousal he feels now is white hot, intoxicating more than any swig of whiskey. If he’s not careful, he’s libel to fall in love with Billy Hargrove this instant and nobody needs that. Pupils blown, Billy looks into Steve’s eyes while he sucks him down deep, so deep. Steve can feel his tip hitting the back of Hargrove’s throat and the fucker swallows. Steve’s seeing stars for a second, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Billy as he slips his fingers into that dumb fucking mullet. Tugs while he moans lowly, earning another smile around his cock. God damn, this idiot is pretty and Steve hates him and loves him all at once. Wants to punch his dumb face and kiss it at the same time.

Hargrove moves a hand up and cradles Steve’s balls in his palm, bobbing his head up and down like he was fucking born to do this. How did he get so good at sucking cock? Steve suddenly feels excited at the prospect of knowing this secret about Billy, maybe he can use this against him. But then again, it’s his dick down Hargrove’s throat. One of these might be gayer but Steve can’t even finish these thoughts because Billy’s giving him the blowjob of a lifetime and Steve’s pathetically on the brink of orgasm. Can’t even warn Billy before he’s shooting down his throat.

“Christ,” he chokes out, bucking his hips into Billy’s face as he chases the pleasure and this guy is a champ. Billy grabs a hold of Steve’s thighs and takes the face fucking, then leans back on his haunches as he grins up at him.

Steve’s panting against the counter, coming back down to earth when Billy opens the cabinet to the left of his leg and starts rifling through it.

“What are you doing?” Steve wonders, voice wrecked.

“Said I was gonna make you cry like a bitch, didn’t I?” Billy quips around a dangerous smirk, holding up a bottle of baby oil.

“What?” Steve asks, eyes wide. What the hell is Hargrove gonna do with that oil?

“Turn around,” Billy rises to his feet, eyebrow lifted like he dares Steve to disobey.

“Dude— no,” Steve gapes, “I—“

“Pretty boy, I said turn around,” Billy levels, eyes dark and Steve does, in spite of everything telling him not to. Hargrove’s lips are on his ear, “Lemme show you something that priss never could.”

Suddenly, there’s a slickness pressing to his asshole and Steve chokes out a gasp, looks at himself in the mirror and his face shows the shock he feels. Billy hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and meets his eyes in the mirror as his fingers rub circles against Steve’s hole. It feels nice despite the panic rising in his chest, and Steve doesn’t tear his eyes away from the reflection of Billy’s.

“I’m gonna make you feel better than that bitch ever could,” Billy tells him, voice low and raspy which causes another stir to Steve’s softening cock. Then Billy’s finger pushes past the tight ring of Steve’s asshole and it’s a sharp pain but at the same time it’s overwhelmingly pleasant. Punches a moan out of Steve’s throat and he drops his head, eyes on the sink but immediately, Billy’s hands on his throat and urging his head upright again.

“Look at yourself,” he insists, curling his finger and then bites Steve’s jaw. “Such a pretty boy.”

Steve whines, not recognizing himself in the mirror. Billy’s sliding in another finger as his tongue soothes the tender skin his teeth assaulted, eyes trained on Steve’s flushed face. Billy’s fingers twist and prod until they hit a spot inside of Steve he didn’t know existed and he cries out, vision blurring as Billy continuously rubs at the spot. The stupidly gorgeous face he sees in the mirror looks smug, but Steve’s a little too preoccupied to be mad at it. Hell, he barely notices when Billy’s adding a third digit to his hole. Steve whimpers out, knuckles turning white where he’s gripping tightly onto the countertop.

Hargrove bites at his jaw again, thrusting his fingers in quick succession and each time they poke Steve’s prostate he moans, feeling his eyes cross as his cock springs back to life. He scissors his fingers, stretching Steve’s hole as he groans lowly and rolls his hips.

“Think you’re ready?” Billy asks, voice teetering on desperation and it’s really nice to hear. Steve’s nodding his head, all the panic from before evaporated at this point.

Billy pulls his fingers out and Steve fucking whines, more pathetic than he’s sounded all night. It’s short lived, Billy’s quick with slathering his cock in the oil and pressing his head to Steve’s eager hole. Obviously, his cock is thicker than his fingers and Steve’s feeling that panic return but Billy pushes the head through and Steve cries out, tears prickling his eyes at the sensation because it is painful but his balls tighten from it and his eyes roll back. It’s painful in the delicious kind of way. He couldn’t even remember Nancy’s name in this moment if he tried. Heads empty, nobodies home. Just clouds of God, that’s nice and oh, wow there’s a cock in my ass. Billy’s hand meets his throat again and he purrs in Steve’s ear, “Look at me.”

Steve didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes, but he opens them and his vision is flooded with the reflection of himself, Billy’s face pressed next to his and that leather clad hand around his neck. He looks to Billy’s eyes in the mirror, a little upset with how much it makes his heart swell. Steve’s easy. Billy saw he was upset and did something to make him forget about it. Fuck, he might be in love. Nope. Steve, stop it.

Billy sinks in a little deeper, draining the air of Steve’s lungs as he does so, “Fuck!”

“I was right, huh?” Billy says, breathless as his face contorts in pleasure.

“Uh huh,” Steve breathes, would agree with anything the blonde says at this point. His heads all warm and fuzzy and Billy’s really pretty. The angles of his face irritated Steve before, got a hint of jealousy in his gut but now he just wants to touch them.

Hargrove groans, digging his nails into Steve’s hips as he drives deeper into the brunette, “So fucking tight.”

And then the head of his cock meets with Steve’s prostate and Steve’s eye roll back in his head. He would’ve collapsed to the floor if it wasn’t for the grip Billy has on him. Doesn’t realize he’s crying again until Billy licks his cheeks again, hips still as he allows Steve to adjust to his length. Hargrove’s breath is heavy on his face, fanning across his sticky cheek in waves. Billy starts rolling his hips, languid and deep and each stroke makes Steve feel like he’s floating higher and higher away. His reflection looks as fucked out as he feels, his eyes glazed over and wide, lips parted in an O and his cheeks are wildly flushed. But this sensation is fucking otherworldly and his cocks at full attention, begging to be touched even though he just came. His chest feels tight while he spews out these breathless and high pitched moans. Hargrove looks as smug as can be, cheek pressed against Steve’s with this fucking grin on his face, like he’s so proud of himself.

“When I heard about you,” Billy grunts, “I didn’t think you’d be this fucking easy.” He punctuates the last word with a particularly rough thrust that’s got Steve’s toes curling in his shoes.

Steve couldn’t talk if he tried, brains too fuzzy with euphoria and fuck, is he drooling? Yep, he is. A string of saliva drips from his lips down onto the bathroom counter but he can’t be bothered to wipe his face, he can’t fucking move at all besides his hips. They keep pushing back to meet Billy’s thrusts.

“Princess dump you, again?” Tommy preens, self satisfied grin spreading against his freckled cheeks, “it’s almost like, Carol and I were onto something!”

Steve’s body noticeably stiffens and his fingers move to the dial on his locker. Billy has to hold back his eye roll. Wants to tell Hagan to fuck off because god damnit, he really wanted to know what Harrington was about to say.

“She changed you, man,” Hagan prods on, shaking his head as he changes into his practice clothes. Billy and Steve busy themselves with filing through their lockers and if Billy isn’t mistaken, it’s like they’re waiting for Tommy to go away so they can shamelessly get an eyeful of the each other. Well, at least that’s what Billy’s waiting for.

Luckily, he gets what he’s hoping for. Tommy snorts, slams his locker shut and struts away. Billy sits on the bench and starts getting his boots off. He keeps his eyes on Steve’s legs as he does so, can see the bulge of his cock in his jeans and it brings back some vivid flashbacks of having said cock in his mouth last night. Harrington kicks his nikes off and his hands go to the waist of his jeans, he unbuttons them slowly and Billy glances up to meet those beautiful brown eyes he can’t stop thinking about. That neediness still shining in them. Okay, so Harrington wants him to watch. That’s a good sign. Billy sets his boots next to him and shrugs off his denim jacket, letting his eyes drag back down Steve’s body to his crotch. Harrington pushes the jeans down his thighs and then kicks them off his ankles. It takes quite a lot out of Billy to not shove his face against those white briefs. God, he wants to mouth at that outline of Harrington’s sizable yet flaccid cock.

Next Harrington is shedding off his polo, exposing a bit of chest hair that Billy isn’t expecting. His fingers itch to run through it. And he realizes if any of their teammates walk by, this is gonna look suspicious so he stands and starts undressing himself. And then they’re both standing there in their whitey tighties, eyes shamelessly raking over each others bodies.

“What were you gonna say?” Billy finds himself asking, voice barely above a whisper.

Steve’s face flushes and he curtly shakes his head, “Nothing. It’s… don’t worry about it.”

Like a switch, Steve’s quickly shucking his gym clothes on before shoving his feet in his Nikes. Closes his locker quietly and Billy watches as he trails away. Fuck. They were definitely just checking each other out. He’s not mistaken. What the hell was Steve gonna say?

First, they’ve got to run laps. It’s how every practice starts. Steve’s fast. He’s gained a lead on everyone with those long fucking legs of his. Running isn’t Billy’s strong suit. Actually, he absolutely hates cardio. Probably because he’s been smoking since he was twelve. But god damn, he’s determined to catch up to Harrington, even if it leaves his chest burning and his stomach churning. Once he does, Steve drops down to a jog and Billy does the same, turns so he’s jogging backwards and facing Harrington.

“I’m worried,” Billy informs him, frowning.

“About what?” Steve huffs, confusion clouding his puppy dog eyes.

“What you were gonna say.”

Steve smiles and goddamn those butterflies filling Billy’s gut have him extra worried. He was just trying to fuck the guy, not fall in love. Billy doesn’t do love. It’s not real. Sets you up for disappointment. People don’t stay so why the hell would you love them? But Jesus, that smile is pretty. Maybe even prettier than that pathetic sad look he had on his face last night.

“You really wanna know? It’s kinda stupid,” Steve is blushing. Whether it’s from Billy’s interest or the running, he can’t be sure.

“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” Billy bites back, “But last night I…” he clears his throat, “What is it?”

Steve’s eyebrows bounce around and he purses his lip, chews on the insult thrown his way and tries to figure out how to feel about it. And god damnit he’s cute. Billy hates how cute this fucking dude is.

“It’s… I don’t know, man,” Steve sighs, “Just thanks, I guess.”

“Thanks?” Billy stops in his tracks, hands falling to his sides. “What?”

“Yeah! Thanks,” Steve pats his bicep and picks up his pace, sprinting around the corner of the track. It’s not often Billy’s surprised or left speechless. But here he is, dumbfounded as he watches his team catching up to them. Thanks? Thanks for what? Taking his ass virginity? Did… oh shit. Did Billy actually make Steve feel better? That’s a new feeling. He can’t decide how to process it. It’s alarming how badly he wants to kiss the asshole so it kind of forms into Billy wanting to punch the fuckers lights out and then transforms into him wanting to fuck Harrington again.

Once they make their way to the gym, the coach divides them up in teams. He gets picked first and subsequently Steve, to the other team. Which is gonna be fun. Gives Billy the excuse to crowd Steve on the court, get a bit of a feel without it being looked at sideways. Coach points to Billy’s team and announces, “Skins.”

Harrington’s eyes lock with his and he smirks, grabbing the hem of his grey Hawkins High gym shirt and pulls it over his head. He registers the way Harrington’s eyes fall to his chest as he chucks the shirt to the bench. God, it’s so obvious to him. And thanks? Steve wants more and Billy does too.

He wipes the court with the shirts, he’s competitive by nature and well, Steve’s his best competitor. He plays defense, crowds right against Steve’s back and the similarities of now and last night don’t fall short on him. Billy’s close to supporting a half chubbed cock right now. Especially the way Steve elbows him in the peck. Can’t help that his tits are sensitive. He grins, licks his lower lip and has to hold back from leaning forward and licking Steve’s cheek like he did the night before. He wants to consume Harrington in such an overwhelming way. But there’s unspoken rules to this shit.

They’d be lynched right here in this court if Billy did was he really wanted to do. His father would have a field day with the beating if he knew the thoughts he was thinking as he’s pressed against Steve. All he can do is steal the ball, dribble up the court and god damnit, try to impress Steve with this trick shot. He’s stunned himself he makes it and he turns, grinning wide as he looks to see Harrington bent over and panting, staring back at him.

“Steve?” Wheeler’s at the door of the gym and Billy’s blood boils at the way Harrington immediately follows her out.

What the hell does that Bitch want? Billy wishes he could follow the pair. Tell her what they’d done and that Steve didn’t need her anymore. But fuck, he’s got a game to play and who does he think he is? Steve’s boyfriend? Pathetic. Billy’s chasing after the ball before he can think to deeply about it.

Showers. Typically kind of a tough time for Billy because he digs looking at dicks, but he can’t. Still, he always feels eyes on his body in the showers and no one gets called out but he’s beyond worried he’ll get called out. And yeah, he’d heard the whispers about Harrington’s dick so it’s not a secret that the team is looking at each other. Harrington’s dick is kind of like an anomaly though. Like it’s okay to notice and talk about because of it’s size. But unlike the other dudes in this locker room, Billy’s had it in his mouth. Then again, he’s not sure anyone else here wants it in their mouth besides Tommy, though the guy won’t admit it. Billy can tell by the way he talks about him. Built Steve up like he was a literal King and not like the metaphorical one he is. Then, he saw Steve and well, he understood.

He watches Tommy’s eyes, they fall to his cock and then to Harrington’s. There’s a look on his face Billy can’t exactly place, perhaps jealously or something more… gay? He hasn’t quite fingered Tommy yet. They’ve just met. And honestly when he made the move on Steve, he was taking a huge risk that he ended with an even better payout. Tommy’s eyes fall to his own junk and well, he’s probably comparing. He did offer Carol up to Billy the second the three of them were alone but Billy shrugged it off like a joke.

“Good practice,” Billy lamely offers, snatching Steve’s soap from the shelf. There’s a hint of a smile from Steve when he does it. Which is a win, probably.

“Yeah, that trick shot was fucking killer,” Tommy praises, teeth shining. And yeah, Billy thinks he’s cute but his eyes are drawn back to Harrington.

“Thanks,” Billy offers, soaping his dick up before he puts the bar back. Steve snatches it quick and then soaps his own dick up. It’s an offering, of some kind. He’s eager to have their teammates vanish. Wants to be alone with Harrington and quick.

The two of them linger a little too long, hopeful they’re not being obvious. Coach left long ago, they shower quietly until the chatter in the locker room disappears. Fingertips and toes gone pruny. And then Billy makes his move, steps into the stream of Steve’s shower and their eyes meet.

“What did your girlfriend want?” Billy asks, ignoring the way his cocks filling out by the close proximity of Steve’s cock.

Steve swallow hard, averts his eyes but answers, “She wanted to know why I didn’t pick her up this morning.”

“Why didn’t you?” Billy wonders, blinking slowly at Steve.

“She dumped me,” he huffs with disdain.

“And the thanks? What was that for?”

“Last night… I… it helped me take my mind off her,” Steve mumbles, eyes dropping.

Billy grins, licks against his teeth as he hooks his fingers under Steve’s chin, pulls the boys face toward his own, “Told you I would make you feel better than she could.”

“But—“ Steve swallows, “You just left and I…”

“What? Wanted cuddles?” Billy laughs, “it was fun. And that’s what it will be. If we ya know, keep doing it. I’m not a chick and either are you, last time I checked.”

He looks down, seeing Harrington’s cock is also standing like his. “I don’t do feelings, Harrington. And maybe you shouldn’t either. Since you’re such a bitch for some average looking tail.”

“I love her,” Steve argues, eyebrows knitting in a way that has Billy jealous beyond belief.

Billy frown, full of condescension when he says, “And where the hell did that get you?”

Steve looks a little taken aback. Like Billy said something wise and not something basked in bitterness.

“We can make each other feel good. Why would we fuck it up with feelings?” Billy asks, looking up at Steve under thick lashes.

“Yeah,” Harrington breathes out and Billy’s reaching down to grab his cock. The brunette elicits the sweetest, softest yelp and Billy can’t help but break a rule he’s set for himself, crashing his lips into Harrington’s.

Because Billy loves kissing. Likes it filthy and sloppy. Makes his head swim when they lick against each other’s tongues between heady moans. Sex is sex. They’re here for a means, regardless of sexuality, they both just wanna get off. Because fuck, his heads going empty ‘cause he can feel Harrington’s cock twitch in his hand and there’s a shared desperation here when their eyes meet again. If Billy can offer a distraction from Wheeler, he’ll take it. Anything to get Steve Harrington making these sweet sounds and bucking into his fist.

“Be quiet,” Billy warns before he’s stepping closer to press his cock against Steve’s, adjusting his hand so he’s got them both in his grip, “You don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

Steve shakes his head, reaching his hands up to grab Billy’s shoulders. Billy catches Steve’s lower lip in his teeth while he jerks them off in his hand. It’s a desperate yet lazy kiss. Steve keeps whimpering into it and Billy’s a bit lovestruck. And Christ, he loves the way their cocks slide together easily, precum drooling from their tips. It’s all slippery and so good and Billy can’t stop licking every crevice of Steve’s mouth as they thrust into his fist. It’s so delicious, so filthy. It’s… slippery from the shower. His minds hazy enough to tell Harrington, “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot.”

And he’s whiny when he says it, desperation dripping off his words because truly, he means it. Harrington looks like a god damn dream, glassy brown eyes and fuck, his lips parted and so pink. Looking at Billy likes he’s a veteran porn star, and he could be with the heat he’s packing and that look on his face. He’s begging for it, just with his eyes. And Billy wants nothing more than to give it to him.

Billy wants to die for Harrington. It’s a sick thought he can’t let himself dwell on. Daddy up and moved them for a reason. Another boy with floppy chestnut hair and sad eyes.

“Fucking hate you,” Billy mumbles, not sure if it’s meant towards Steve or the memory. He squeezes their cocks when he says it though. ‘Cause he does hate him and he does hate the way he aches for this. Hates the way his heads all wrong and hates how he needs to act on it.

Steve kisses him then, bruising like it’s punishment for telling Steve he hates him. Or a test? Billy can’t let the kiss go further, it’s too delicious and dangerous. So he pushes Steve back and spits on his parted lips. An assault, but he’s stunned when Steve’s tongue darts out to gather the saliva and bucks his hips up at Billy’s fist. The slide of their cocks is incredible and it’s so good that heat is pooling in his stomach rapidly, so he closes his eyes tight and bares his teeth because if he looks down at their cocks or up at Harrington’s face he’s gonna blow his load.

And then Harrington’s making this pathetic fucking sound and it’s even more wet and Billy has to open his eyes, has to look down and sees Harrington’s spilled and it’s all over his fist and the tip of his cock and Billy grunts, body heaving as he shoots his spunk next. He rests his head on Harrington’s shoulder for a beat. Then he rinses himself off and reaches for his towel. He wraps it around his waist and he’s about to walk off.

The softest words from Harrington have him turning around and asking, “Huh?”

Big, downturned brown eyes look to him and Steve says louder, “I fucking hate you, too.”

It warms Billy’s chest for some god awful reason, so he smiles, maybe even blushes a little, “Hate you more, King Steve.”

It’s well into June now, and Steve is working at Scoops Ahoy, desperately trying to keep that 5th letter out of his mind. The one that hasn’t come yet. The one that’s surely another rejection. He just scoops ice cream, and when he really feels like torturing himself, he goes to the pool.

Now normally the pool isn’t Steve’s scene. But he goes under the guise of staying in shape for the ladies and definitely not for a certain someone. A certain muscular blue-eyed someone who’s allergic to wearing shirts. No, Billy Hargrove is the bane of Steve’s existence. And yet he can’t stay away from him. They trade snappy insults in public, or more accurately Billy teases him to death and Steve always ends up complimenting the other boy by accident (totally by accident)

“You better be careful there princess, you’re so pale you might just catch on fire laying in the sun like that.”

“Yeah well we can’t all have a perfect tan, can we, Hargrove?”

But most nights they somehow find themselves smoking on the hood of the Camaro at the quarry, or drinking cheap beer by Steve’s pool when his parents aren’t home. If Steve didn’t know any better he might even call them friends.

But on this particular evening, Steve is at home. And he’s drowning his sorrows in whiskey because today… well today was the last possible day he could have gotten an acceptance letter. Actually 3 days ago was the last day, but it’s finally hitting Steve that it’s not coming. His last possible hope from the last school he applied to. So Steve is downing burning whiskey and crying on his couch in that big empty house again. And he’s just going to lie here until he has to get up and put on a happy face for the kids, or the customers buying ice cream, or Billy at the pool, because his life is falling apart and there’s no one here. There’s no one here to say it’ll be okay, no one to-

DING DONG

Who the hell could be knocking on the door of the Harrington house at this hour interrupting this very important business that needs attending? (That business being drinking and crying but that’s irrelevant.) Tripping over his own feet as he stands, Steve stumbles to the door, tears and snot and a bit of whiskey still streaming down his face because he just doesn’t care anymore anymore and he yanks the door open ready to yell in the face of whoever’s disturbing his wallowing and-

“Wow, Harrington, you look like shit.” Those words managed to come out of Billy’s mouth as a scoff, barely masking the concern in his voice that Steve didn’t even notice.

“Fuck off, Hargrove. I’m busy. Go away.” Billy’s hand caught the door as Steve attempted to shut it in his face.

“Hey…” the asshole facade was down in a second as soon as Billy saw that something was really wrong with the boy. The boy he had been secretly harboring feelings for since the second he set eyes on him. The boy that he teased and shoved in public to keep that secret, but god if he wasn’t weak for Steve Harrington, and who cares why he was here in the first place, he’ll do anything to stop Steve from crying. “Hey, princess, what’s wrong? Hey… just, just sit down and tell me what it is,” Steve was fully sobbing now as Billy, unsure what to do with a distraught Steve, led him back inside to the couch, “I don’t… I don’t know if I can… uhh help, or anything, but please just talk to me…” fuck Billy had absolutely no idea how to deal with a sad Steve, he looked like a kitten curling up into himself as he sat. Billy was itching to go out and punch what or whoever made Steve cry, but he needed to be here for him. Tentatively, Billy wrapped an arm around his back, curling Steve’s face into his shoulder. Tears, snot, whiskey and all.

Eventually, Steve’s sobs quieted down. “Do you.. do you want to tell me what that was all about?” Billy whispered, hesitant to break the silence they had settled into. “No… not right now. I don’t want to talk about it. Just.. fuck Billy why are you even here?” Steve whispered back, his breath tickling Billy’s ear from his face still shoved right in the crook of his neck.

“Oh it’s dumb, probably nothing important. Just, uh… our last names are pretty similar, right?”

“Billy what the fuck does that have to do with anything?” despite his huffing Steve still refused to move from his comfortable perch, even snuggling into Billy more, curling his arms around Billy waist, and nuzzling his face further into his neck, to tired to think after wearing himself out with his breakdown.

“Well I just mean that’s probably why I got some mail that was meant for you a couple days ago, I kept forgetting to give it to you but I have this big old envelope that says Steve Harrington and I figured they probably mixed up Harrington and Hargrove, they’re kind of similar so I-“ in the midst of Billy’s rambling Steve bolted upright.

“What did you just say.”

“Uhhh your mail got delivered to my house?” Billy stammered out, alarmed by Steve’s sudden seriousness but mostly by his sudden shift to sitting… directly on Billy’s lap, so close that their noses are almost touching, all Billy had to do was lean forward and…

“Uhh!” Billy cut his train of thought off quickly, “that’s why I’m here because I have this big envelope that’s from a college, I think, and it has your name on it so…” Billy grabbing for the envelope he had tossed beside him on the couch in the midst of frantically comforting Steve and holding it up between them.

“Here you go.”

Steve’s eyes had never been wider in his life.

This was no scrawny thin envelope like the others. There was clearly much more inside than a short letter of rejection. Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Billy looked on in confusion. Then he ripped open the envelope.

Yes.

 Yes. In big bold letters at the top.

Yes! 

 YES, You have been accepted!

“YES!!!” Steve screeched at the top of his lungs, ecstatically bouncing up and down, as a very startled Billy grabbed his hips to stop him from literally bouncing on his dick right now, “What the fuck, bambi?” Steve was almost hysterical at this point, laughing and screaming “Billy, I got in! I did it, I did it!” arms flailing wildly before grabbing Billy by the face and kissing him deeply and god it felt like he belonging right here, in Billy’s lap surrounded by the smell of his cologne, kissing him and- wait. Oh shit.

Steve pulled back abruptly, snapped out of his reverie, Billy stock still beneath him, blue eyes filled with shock, “Oh shit, I didn’t mean… that is- I should, oh fuck sorry I-“ but then Billy surged forward and returned the kiss enthusiastically, hand finding a home in Steve’s hair and Steve just… melted. If he wasn’t so excruciatingly happy, he might have been ashamed of the whimper he let out when Billy broke the kiss to whisper against his lips, “Been waiting for you to do that for a long time, princess.” before diving right back in to kiss him breathless.

.