#rascheln

Yamato glanced up from his lunch to see Kakashi hauling a dense looking box of papers and folders onto the already-crowded Hokage desk.

“Taking on additional responsibility, I see,” Yamato said mildly, leaning back against the window behind him to get a better angle of the boxes sides, see if there’s a label. “How bold of you, Hokage-Sama.”

“There’s nothing which aids procrastination better than additional, unrelated work,” Kakashi said, dispensing his ill-gotten wisdom with two smiling, inky-black eyes. Yamato smiled back crookedly, and put his lunch to the side, finally rising to join Kakashi in whatever this new distraction was.

The box had dense chipboard sides and top, and hints of discoloration from unhindered mildew around the corners, and by the lip of the lid. There was a label on the lid’s front, but it was rusted so thoroughly that the paper had been eaten and stained so thorughly that it was unreadable. When he touched the sides, it was colder than the room they were in.

“Sai found it,” Kakashi said, as Yamato lifted the lid.

Ah. This was from Root, then. The dismantling of Danzō’s organization demanded a lot of cleanup, a lot of compiling and collection of Danzō’s libraries and resources and re-allocation of them into Konoha’s information, library, and data collections. If Kakashi was bringing this one straight here, rather than letting the experts notate, collect, label, and distribute this information, it must have been something he wanted privilege over—something too sensitive to immediately be shifted into Konoha’s resources.

Taking a guess, Yamato slid his hand among the side of the papers, feeling for the slick, cardstock texture of a photograph among the typewritten papers.

“Well, would you look at that,” Yamato said, as he felt Kakashi’s keen gaze slip from him to the image in his hand. It was of a sallow, gaunt creature that had never seen the sun, with long brown hair, wetted and slicked by preservative biofluids so that it was nearly black, legs that must have been trembling at the time of the photo which stuck out like twigs from beneath a thin, rough-textured cotton medical gown. The eyes that stared out at him though, were familiar, curious.

“It seems like they’ve finally declassified my baby photos,” Yamato said, and he tried to keep his voice light and humorous, but he tripped over a lump in his throat.

Yamato could feel Kakashi’s eyes leave the photo, and return to him, and so he turned, and pressed the photo into Kakashi’s hands before stepping back to his seat on the window, and lifting up his lunch again.

“We could burn them,” Kakashi suggested.

“That sounds like a bad idea,” Yamato replied through a wry smile. “Thanks for the offer though, always good to know you’re willing to destroy state secrets for a friend.”

“If being the hokage means I can’t even destroy my personal guard’s formerly classified medical documents anymore, then I don’t even know why I left Jōnin,” Kakashi replied, though he started picking through the box again.

Yamato resumed eating, finding himself colder and hungrier than he had been even minutes ago.

“What do you want done with it, Tenzō?” Kakashi eventually asked.

“I don’t particularly care. It can enter Konoha’s forbidden documents division, I suppose. There’s probably important details about how I was created in there, they might be of use for Konoha down the line, I suppose. Perhaps the next time, the experiments can be done consensually, and with less casualties, and perhaps without the more dehumanizing elements of all that.”

“Grim,” Kakashi commented.

“Pragmatic,” Yamato countered. He was fairly sure that there would be a next time—even if Orochimaru somehow miraculously died, even if he was somehow stopped, there would be someone else. There would be, once again, a demand for an otherwise extinct Kekei-genkai.

“I know how easy that section is to break into. I don’t know. Do you really want it in there? Even Sakura and Naruto could probably get in, if they tried, and you know how bad they are at stealth missions.”

“And whose fault is that, Hokage-sama?”

Kakashi gave him a sour look, probably about his continued use of the honorific. Yamato knew he was getting to Kakashi a little bit. “Yours. Don’t you still train new Anbu recruits? They’re not up to par.”

Yamato bowed deeply without leaving his seat, so that his nose brushed his knees, holding his meal aside with one hand. “My most sincere apologies, Hokage-Sama, I w—”

“Piss off,” Kakashi snapped. “You know you’re pretty much the only person in this village who still calls me that?”

Yamato sat back up, very pleased with himself.

Kakashi sighed, and looked back down at the box, and Yamato watched as he did, one of his hands leaving the white, voluminous robes to pick through a couple files at random, and then shuffle them back in.

“You were very young,” Kakashi said softly, looking at another document, which seemed (by a paperclip at the top) to have another photo attached.

“Most children are young,” Yamato noted, after another bite. “You probably were too, I imagine.”

“I suppose I was.”

“You’ll likely find mostly medical files and Kinoto and Danzō’s notes on my progress. I don’t think there’s much else to be recorded in there.”

“You don’t want to see any of that,” Kakashi guessed.

“I know what it will say, I lived it. As for the stuff that I don’t know, I’m happy not knowing.”

Kakashi tapped the edge of the box. “Does me looking at these bother you?” He asked.

Yamato looked out the window, where the afternoon sun was lowering but hot and bright and golden. Did it bother him? He didn’t think so.

“I understand why it’s interesting—but I’m not in that box. Whatever we would find in that box isn’t me. You know? Whatever you want to do with it, I don’t really care.”

Kakashi nodded, and put the paper in his hands back into the box, then placed the lid back where it had been.

Billy knows that Max knows Steve, so he finally bribes her to give away Steve's working schedule. He starts driving her and her weird friend, Jane, to the mall, as often as possible. And while the girls go shopping, Billy makes sure to visit Scoops Ahoy each time and order U.S.S. Butterscotch or a strawberry or cherry popsicle. Obscenely licking his ice cream spoon and practically deepthroating his popsicle while keeping eye contact on Steve, and takes great delight in getting Steve flustered and making him mess up his orders, only to get yelled at that freckled blonde chick that Steve works with, whom Billy finds strangely amusing.

Sometimes Billy takes his fellow lifeguard, Heather, along who's figured out Billy's sexuality by now and is very supportive of him and knows what's going on, and they have so much fun playing the happy couple in front of Steve, giggling and feeding each other ice cream, trying to make the pretty boy jealous. While Billy also keeps giving Steve mixed signals by winking at him from his table, then ordering some more ice cream while heavily leaning forward against the counter and batting his dark eyelashes at Steve; a pink, wet tongue caught between his teeth.

Steve has a habit of blushing down to his neck, Billy has noted.

It doesn't end there. Billy starts bringing cherry slushies and popsicles to his workplace as well. One day when Steve is sitting there again, in his usual spot, wearing his black Ray-Bans, thinking he's so smooth and cool and so not coming here every day to drool over a shirtless Billy in red pool shorts, Billy is having the time of his life teasing the living shit out of him. He's sucking and licking and nibbling the end of his straw and messily slurping around the popsicle that keeps melting in the hot sun, sucking the juice from his fingers. His mischievous eyes constantly follow Steve's reactions, which Steve, unfortunately, cannot see because Billy wears his brown aviators all the time.

Billy's pretty sure he's spotted Steve sport a boner at the pool before and tries not to grin openly when he sees Steve adjust himself, get up and quickly make his way towards the showers. Probably taking a cold shower; a thought that makes Billy downright giddy.

He asks one of the lifeguards to take over because he hasn't had his break yet, and shortly follows Steve into the showers.

Lucky for him, it's a quiet hour and nobody else is there to distract them.

He hears one of the showers running and strolls towards it, hearing muffled grunts. Billy’s eyebrows nearly shoot up into his hair and his face spreads into a grin as he slowly approaches the right shower stall and stops right in front of it. He grabs Steve's bathrobe, lays it over his shoulder, and walks away. Then grabbing a chair and carrying it to the other side of the room, Billy sits down and patiently waits for Steve to finish his shower. He’s got twenty minutes, and he’s not in a hurry to go anywhere else.

So when Steve eventually finishes his shower - and getting off, Billy's sure of it -, he finally pulls the shower curtain aside and reaches out to grab his towel from the hook but finds nothing. Billy tries not to snicker aloud when the pretty boy peeks his head out of the stall and peers around him dumbly, then finally spots Billy and starts walking towards him.

Steve keeps his head bowed down as he approaches Billy, looking awkward as fuck, and Billy's not helping it make it any less awkward for him by sitting with his legs wide open, with Steve's towel resting on his shoulder, as he keeps sucking on a lollipop inside one cheek. His gaze shamelessly traveling back and forth between Steve's face and crotch.

"Can I have my towel back, please?" Steve asks with a quiet voice, his hand extended towards Billy. He sounds strangely tired and humiliated and it does nothing to stifle Billy's mirth.

"I don't know, can you?"

"Please."

Steve's eyebrows are furrowed, his big brown eyes already looking defeated and Billy takes pity on him. The corner of his mouth twitches as he rolls the lollipop in his mouth to his other cheek, and then unwraps the towel from his shoulder, handing it to Steve. "There you go."

Steve nods his wordless thanks and wraps the towel around his narrow hips. Billy almost pouts to see the best parts of him covered but quickly recovers from it. "Nice form." He whistles lowly. "You come here often?"

Steve gives him an annoyed look in return and Billy innocently blinks back at him. It only serves to deepen Steve's frown and he turns away from Billy, trying to walk past him towards the locker room.

Billy grins and he grabs around Steve's arm, stopping him. Steve stops but looks even more annoyed now and attempts to struggle free. Billy's strong though and it takes more than that to break free from his grip. He narrows his blue eyes almost dramatically as he stares up at Steve. "What were you doing in the shower?"

Steve huffs and snaps at him, clearly upset now:

"What do you mean what I was doing, I was taking a shower! What a stupid question." He's fully rambling now like Billy's struck a nerve, and Billy can't tell if Steve's annoyed or flustered or even both but he thinks it's awfully cute.

"You see, that's not what I heard."

It makes Steve stop in his tracks and stare back at Billy. His pupils are dilated and his mouth is opening in a silent 'o', like a deer caught in the headlights. "What do you mean?"

Billy doesn't hesitate to demonstrate the deep grunts and the little 'ah ahs' that he's so sure he heard coming from Steve's cubicle, albeit he's slightly overdoing it, and Steve's face and neck start looking a little bit pinkier again. "What's the color of the day, pretty boy?"

"Fuck you, man."

"Is that what you were doing? Beating your meat in the public showers, thinking about fucking me? I'm flattered."

"That's not-" Steve half-shouts and raises his finger in the air, somehow seeming even more frantic and guilty than before. "Wh-why would I even think about that!? That's- you're-"

"Hot. Sexy. I know. I've seen you looking."

“Looking at what, exactly?”

“At me, you dork. You come here every day and you keep making eyes at me. You don’t think I’ve noticed?” Billy laughs heartily, noisily sucking on his lollipop, and then winks at Steve.

He swears that Steve’s ears are getting pinker, and he almost wants to grab them and feel if they feel as warm as they look.

"Man, I seriously don't know what you're talking about-" Steve argues and Billy finally loses his grip on his arm, but dips his fingers into the waistband of Steve's towel instead, causing the towel to open and fall at Steve's feet.

Another Cheshire grin spreads on Billy's face, and Steve's quickly flustered down to his chest again. The brunet crouches quickly to pick up his towel but Billy stops him again and places a warm hand on his chest, right above where his dark curls are. Suddenly they’re so close and looking straight into each other's eyes. So close in fact that Billy’s sure he can catch a speck of gold reflected in Steve’s honey-brown eyes while Steve’s actively trying to decide if Billy’s eyes look more blue than green.

“I’ll tell you what,” Billy says, sounding slightly breathless, and keeps his hand planted on Steve’s warm, damp chest, as he pushes him backward and himself up from the chair. He takes two steps closer, right into Steve’s space and effectively blocking his way from even trying to reach down to the floor again and pick up his towel, until their noses are almost touching. Then finally, albeit begrudgingly, takes his hand off of Steve’s chest. “Meet me here after work. I’m closing the pool at eight, as I’m sure you already know. Meet me here then, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Steve feels dazed, probably because they’re standing almost too close to each other and he can practically feel Billy’s breath tickling his lips and his body touching his - which is still clothed while Steve’s fully naked -, and he’s painfully aware of it. “And why on earth would I wanna do that?”

Billy smirks at him and looks at Steve behind heavy eyelashes. His mouth makes a wet, popping sound as he pulls off his lollipop and places it between Steve’s fingers instead. Billy's pretty sure he feels a slight kick of Steve's dick against his shorts, considering how close they're standing to each other and how stunned and flushed Steve's face looks right then, but Billy decides to hold his tongue for once.

“You like to watch me, don’t you?”

Steve’s jaw clenches and his eyes darken but he says nothing. Billy smirks.

“Well, I’m offering you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to look at me,” He mutters as he briefly looks down at Steve’s chest where his finger keeps drawing lazy patterns along his dark chest hair. The other boy seems completely stunned and taken aback by his words and motions, and Billy absolutely loves how much control he has over the other man. “You meet me here,” Then leans closer to whisper in his ear, “And I’ll show you everything.”

The tip of his tongue slightly flicks against the shell of Steve’s ear, causing the brunet to jump and gasp softly. Billy then pulls back grinning and admires how Steve's eyes have suddenly gotten wider; his pupils are blown and his mouth hangs slightly open. “That’s... so gross,” Steve mutters and frowns, but doesn't sound convincing at all. “You’re so full of yourself, you know that?”

Billy laughs again, softly. “But it gets your dick wet, doesn’t it?” Billy shamelessly ogles down at Steve’s body again and yes, something else has arisen and gotten wet at this point. Billy's mouth waters slightly just from seeing that and he’d love nothing more than drop down on his knees and get a taste of that, hearing the pretty boy beg and moan his name, but Billy's still at work and can’t risk someone walking into them. He looks at the clock on the wall. “Well, I’d love to help you with that but duty calls.”

He slightly pushes Steve back and then steps away from him, moving away to walk past him. Smacking Steve's ass loudly as he makes his way past, causing Steve to yelp and jump again. Billy laughs loudly this time and waves as he goes.

“See you later, pretty boy.”

Strutting away like a proud rooster; swaying his hips like a little harlot.

Steve really hates him now.

—

He sticks around the closing time, though.

Waits until everybody’s leaving and keeps making those nervous eyes towards Billy who still sits in his tower like a king of the hill and looks completely unbothered. Keeps biting on his thumbnail because he doesn’t know if Billy was being serious or just fucking with him.

About ten minutes before the pool’s closing time, Billy finally lowers his sunglasses and makes eyes with Steve. Wiggling his perfectly sculpted, dark eyebrows, he pokes his tongue between his teeth, then signals Steve with his head, pointing towards the showers.

Steve looks away, annoyed. Contemplating whether he should just leave the whole place because fuck this guy. What a dick. But Steve’s dick seems to fancy the living, walking dick that Billy Hargrove is, and it wouldn't be the first time Steve's dick has taken over his head and made him make some really stupid decisions. Or how much control Billy Hargrove seems to have over his dick because Steve can’t physically seem to stop himself from coming here, just to see those broad shoulders, strong arms, abs of steel, tight ass, and thick thighs, and just picture how they would feel on him, manhandling him or wrapped around him. Steve’s already lost count of how many times he's creamed his pants just from thinking about this hot mess of a lifeguard working at the pool, and knowing that this wet dream of his might be finally becoming true, is driving him up the wall. Steve hates to even think about the possibility of Billy doing this to him just because the blonde Californian wants to have a good laugh at his expense, and something to gossip about.

Hawkins is a small town after all. Way too small for flaming queers and bi-curious, former, popular ex-jocks like Steve Harrington.

But his dick is persistent and desperate to get wet tonight because it hasn’t gotten this wet in months, and Steve curses when he actually gets up and finally walks into the showers. He's desperate to keep himself in control and tries to think about unsexy things like Jonathan Byers or Demogorgons, so he wouldn't pop a boner in front of everybody just from thinking about Billy until he’s reached the shower.

He stands under the running shower and keeps soaping himself up over and over again, hoping to wash off the sweat and chlorine, making sure his crucial parts are clean until Billy’s voice finally echoes throughout the shower room:

“The pool’s closed.”

Steve turns off the shower and briefly contemplates about leaving again before he realizes he’s making a huge mistake, and he almost does exactly that until he hears the wet sound of Billy’s feet tapping across the floor tiles. The cool gust of air hits Steve’s skin as the shower curtain is being pulled off and he turns around to see a smug Billy Hargrove, shirtless and wrapped in a bath towel, standing by the doorway and leaning against one arm.

Steve blinks his eyes.

“You stayed.”

“So I did.”

Billy straightens himself slowly from the doorway and then tilts his head adorably, dropping the towel on the floor.

Billy certainly wasn’t lying when he promised Steve he would show everything.

Steve's wet dreams are finally coming true and he gets to see Billy Hargrove in all his glory, and he's pretty sure he feels his pulse getting stronger and his heartbeats pounding in his throat, and he barely has time to assess that when Billy's naked, hot body is already pushing into his. Pushing him against the wall, cradling his head, exploring his mouth deep and wet with his tongue, his hands roaming in Steve's hair and then up and down his hot, wet, wanton body and—

Yeah.

Steve definitely came here for this.

—