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Princess Steve

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Steve can’t concentrate on his test with those eyes boring into his neck. He pulls up his sweatshirt, but, fuck, it’s like Billy’s gaze can cut straight through his clothes. The thought makes him shiver, and he’s not sure why. They’ve both been naked together in the showers, just like with all the boys. 

He draws together the strings of his hoodie.

Billy retaliates by pulling Steve’s hood down, and Steve stiffens as Bill's cigarettes and cologne overwhelm his senses. He waits for Billy to say something! Do something! Instead, there’s nothing but Billy’s hot breathe against his clammy skin. Goosebumps crawl up his arms. Steve helplessly looks up at the teacher, waiting for him to notice, but the old fart’s too busy grading exams.

Suzie covers her mouth as she look over at them, silently giggling.

What? He mouths.

He’s looking at your test.

Steve jerks his shoulders into a shrug because that’s fine. To be honest, Steve’s probably gotten all of these questions wrong, so who cares if Billy’s looking? It’s a relief that Billy is trying to do something as normal as cheat off him and not- not whatever Steve was thinking before. He scoots up in his seat and tries to continue.

Except...except Billy scoots his desk forward to follow him. That predatory breath on the back of his neck is threatening to send a shiver down his spine. Then, to make it even more irritating, Billy starts to shake the back of Steve’s desk with his foot. The vibrations are more than just irritating...they make Steve’s jeans tight. He squirms in his seat and bites his pencil.

Concentrate on these problems! Come on, find X and then scram. He wants to get a reaction out of you, so don’t fucking give him what he wants!

It’s easier said than done because the vibrations and breathing and cologne mixed with cigarettes makes Steve’s head spin. He bites down harder on his pencil, hard enough to leave teeth marks. The numbers blur in his eyes as his heart fails to slow down, and he can feel a drop of sweat racing down his back. Billy's breath comes out in short puffs as he silently laughs at Steve's discomfort. 

Don’t react...don’t react...don't..

“Hey-”

What ?!” He hisses and turns to meet deceptively blue eyes. They’re the kinds of eyes that make girls wet (not that they make Steve feel anything, of course). They're just -objectively- not the kind of eyes you'd expect the school bully to have. He can't pussy out and look away, but staring straight into them makes his stomach twist. 

Billy smirks at him, white teeth glinting: “Finish up, why don’t you? You’re making me regret choosing you to cheat off, King Steve-”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

“Okay....” Billy says, mock sweet. “How about... princess ?”

Steve doesn’t mean to flush. It’s just the combination of nerves and this weird-ass bullying. Is it bullying? It certainly makes Steve feel small.

“D-don’t call me that either, asshole,” he stammers, voice going up in pitch. There’s still that queer twisting in his stomach that Steve wants to call ‘nerves,’ but it feels closer to ‘arousal.’ Either way, his fingers helplessly tighten around his pencil as Billy smirks up at him. All his clever quips are caught as Billy just looks at him with those taunting, predatory eyes. Billy seems to realize the effect that his words have, and, judging by that growing smug-ness, he's not going to stop, not when Steve keeps giving him the reaction he wants.  

“Why? You like it too much? Make your little panties twist? Don’t worry; I won’t tell anyone, princess.”

Shuddup,” Steve spits as he turns around only to find himself face to face with his stern math teacher.

"What's so important you need to talk about during the exam?"

"Nothing, sir. I was just telling him to stop-"

"Stop. I've heard enough. You boys can flirt all you want in detention." 

His and Billy’s tests are snatched away. Fucking great. Steve winces as he accepts the pink detention slip, and, judging by the murmurs from his classmates, this gossip is sure to reach Nancy.

Billy accepts it with a smirk. Does this boy ever stop smirking?

So that’s how Steve finds himself in detention on a clear blue Friday. It’s the kind of Friday that’s meant for pumpkin picking, but all the pumpkins have rotted away, and he has no one to go picking with anyways. Nancy has run away to Jonathan and left Steve to rot in this hell. 

Steve was sure that Billy wouldn't show, but there he is, with both feet kicked up on a desk like he owns it, like he owns everything. Steve picks a seat on the opposite side of the room. 

“I’m going to give you thirty math problems to do, and, when you’re done, you may leave,” the teacher croaks. He has no intention of baby-sitting them on this beautiful Friday, and Steve wants to cry when the teacher leaves them. Great, now he’s alone with Billy.

He bends over his paper, but the numbers swim in his eyes. Steve flinches when he hears the squeak of a desk and then, before he can blink, Billy’s on the desk in front of him. Steve slowly looks up to meet Billy's piercing gaze, and, though he's dressed in a thick sweatshirt, he feels naked. Billy leans in, so Steve is once more overwhelmed by the smell of cigarettes and cologne. Everything about Billy is just too much.

There's no need to whisper since the teacher left, but Billy's voice is a low, throbbing tenor when he rasps, “You really gonna do all that? By the looks of it, princess, numbers aren't your strong suit."

Stop calling me that, Steve thinks but bites it back because why keep repeating himself? Billy's not going to listen. 

“Got a better idea, Hargrove?”

“I say we pick-lock his desk and get the answers,” Billy says and pulls a bobby pin out of the curls of his hair. God, Steve hates Billy's hair. It's like a mix between a mullet and a bird's nest. What he wouldn't do to just fix it up with some of his gel and- uh, no. No, that's another weird train of thought.

Now that it’s just the two of them, Steve's more flustered. He tries to not look the way he feels.

“Yeah, sure. No harm in searching, I guess.”

Billy undoes the lock like a master thief and -as if he's done it a million times- pulls out the answer sheet. He holds it between his fingertips and waves it in Steve's face. 

"So, how much will you pay me for it? I hear ya got yourself a rich daddy. Would have expected no less."

"You were going to share it before," Steve groans and makes a move to snatch it, but Billy is taller and faster. He leans back against the chalkboard, dangling the paper just out of reach. 

"Before's before."

"Give it," he snaps as he takes a threatening step forward. "Why do you have to go and act like that? We were getting along for a couple minutes, and now you have to go on and be a prick!"

Billy cocks his head and arches his brow as he waves the paper like the schoolyard bully he is, but, unlike a schoolyard bully, there's an edge to his action. It feels like he's pushing Steve on purpose, trying to make him...what? What is it that Billy wants? 

"Oh, nonono. Is that how we ask for things? I know royalty like you is used to being spoiled, but I don't plan on waiting on you hand and knee, princess."

He imagines his fist connecting with that pretty face, and his jaw clenches. Steve takes in a deep breath and then exhales. He's sure that violence is exactly what Billy wants, and he's tired of giving Billy exactly what he wants. Instead, he flexes his fingers and uncurls them as he keeps walking forward. Billy's still leaning against the blackboard, and Steve leans up on his tippy toes, bracing his hand right besides Billy's face. 

"Please," Steve says when he really means fuck you. 

They're inches away from each other. Billy's technically cornered, but, judging by the glint in his eyes, this is exactly where he wanted to end up. 

Billy just shakes his head, curls bouncing: "Close, but...yeah, no. I gotta feel it. Try again, but this time beg me forreal."

Steve feels a vein pulsing in his neck, but he's committed to going down the path of non-violence. Call him fucking Buddha. Not to mention, there are no teacher's here, and Billy's got bulging muscles. He could easily overpower Steve. He has overpowered Steve before during basketball pratice.

"Please," he repeats, softer this time, and, oddly, he's not sure he's asking for the test answers. His eyes make the mistakes of slipping down to Billy's lips, and, as he feels the electricity in the air, Steve recognizes what this tension is. 

"That's better," Billy coos, and then he flips their positions, so Steve is trapped by the bulk of his body. When Billy's hands comes to squeeze his wrists, Steve's eyes widen. 

The paper falls down to the floor, forgotten. 

"Dude, what the- what the hell are you...?" Steve stammers as Billy's fingers are tighten around his hands. He tries to wriggle away, but he's pinned down nice and tight. It makes his toes curl when he realizes how easy it is for Billy to control him. Billy's still, like a predator playing with it's prey, and his body is hot against Steve's as he watches him squirm. 

A pause. Billy licks his lips. Steve swallows.

"Just fucking with you. Have the stupid sheet," Billy dryly chuckles and lets him go. He takes out a cigarette from his tight jeans and kicks at the answer sheet like it's nothing.

Steve's hands tremble as he snatches up the bent paper and returns to his desk. His head's spinning with a thousand revelations, and his un-kissed lips are tingling. Nothing happened. Nothing happened. Nothing happened. 

As cigarette smoke fills the classroom, Steve dares to look up. Billy's hunched over his paper and....doing his work? Now, that's the fucking strangest thing to happen all afternoon. Steve leans forward, like Billy had done before, and peaks at his paper. Once more, his eyes widen. He looks down from the answer sheet back up at Billy's answers. Up. Down. Up. Down.

"Need help with something, princess?" Billy drawls as he turns around and blows a puff of smoke at his face.

Ugh. Steve coughs and covers his mouth.

"You...? You know how to do these problems?"

"Yeah, it's real fucking simple."

"So...why did you try to cheat off me earlier? Why didn't you share the answer sheet?"

Billy shrugs and takes a deep drag. There's a gleam in his eyes that Steve doesn't want to translate, but if he did, it might be- you know why. 

Steve looks down, hand still over his mouth, and when he starts to speak, he's speaking to his paper: "You know that when I was little and I got crushes on girls, I wouldn't know what to do. I mean when I was really little, like, maybe your sister's age. I would be confused, so I would just be a dick, right? Because I figured then she'd notice me. And, looking back, it shouldn't have worked as well as it did, so...what I'm trying to say is that, uh, I know what you're doing, and I'd- I'd appreciate if you stopped."

Billy's silently blows out the smoke. Steve looks up to meet those piercing eyes, and they seem to see right through him. He looks back down at his trembling hands and forces himself to continue speaking because the smokey silence is overwhelming. 

"Because doing this? Getting me into detention and messing with me? This is just- just not how you make someone like you...if that's what you're tryna do? And even if I did like you, which I don't, I'm not a faggot, so...yeah, you should stop."

"You think I'm a faggot?" Billy asks, and he sounds more curious than angry.

"Uh, no, I mean, no, yeah. Yeah, I think you're...?" Steve trails off and shrugs. "You're confused."

"Nah, I'm not confused. I know what I want."

"You know what you want?" Steve repeats like an idiot, and then he makes the mistake of looking up. Billy has his curly head resting against his hand and he's looking at Steve through his long lashes like he's the hottest chick that he's ever seen, like he wants to fuck Steve up. Except Steve's not a chick. And Steve defiantly does not like dudes. 

Billy grins up at him as he crushes the remainder of his burning cigarette onto Steve's test, claiming his territory: "I know what I want, princess; you're the one who's confused."

Steve stands up and almost falls over: "Ohnononono- this is not happening. If what I think is happening is happening, it better not be. You are not- not just openly flirting with me- and- no. I'm not like that, and if you're like that, then whatever. Maybe that's cool in California, but it's not cool here, got it?"

"Oh, I got it," Billy says, but he's still looking at Steve with that dastardly twinkle. "Sit down, princess. You're getting yourself worked up over nothing."

His head spins as he sits down, and he's not sure why he's listening to Billy. He should punch him or spit at him or- or something. That's how any dude would react in this kind of situation, right? All Steve knows about homosexuality is that it's Bad. It's a Bad thing to be, and he's not that. He loves girls and how they smell and how they look when he fucks them. He loves their tits and pussies. He loves pussy.

"I love pussy," he verbalizes as he turns back to finishing up his test, and he hates how defensive he sounds. Come on. Finish up these problems. He rips off the top of the paper with the cigarette burn in it, but the ash has smeared onto the rest of the white page, and it's never going to be the way that it was before. Steve's cheeks heat up as he feels Billy still fucking watching him. Why can't he just leave him alone?

"Me too."

Silence.

Steve clears his throat: "I don't understand. Then what do you want? I don't -jeseus, why am I explaining this to you?- I don't have a pussy, obviously. I've got a, you know- I've got a-"

"Dick? Balls?" Billy offers with smirk. "Doubt it; you act like you got a tight, little pussy. Bet'chu'd love it if I ate you out."

"Fuck off."

"Oh? Gonna prove me wrong? Gonna pull out your big boy cock?"

"Dick."

"There's a lot I can do with a dick, you know..."

Steve looks up and asks, "Like what?"

Billy licks his lips: "Could suck it."

Steve chokes on the air as his traitorous cock twitches in his jeans. Now that Billy's said it he can imagine those pink, pink lips stretched around him. Oh god, it's not fair giving lips like that to a boy. Those are real cock-sucking lips, and Steve hasn't gotten his cock wet since he broke up with Nancy. And even then she never liked giving blowjobs.  

He narrows his eyes, trying to call Billy's bluff, but the boy's foot starts to rub up against his. His hand helplessly curls around the length of his pencil, and, fuck, what he wouldn't do to relieve that pressure building up between his legs. What he wouldn't do to have that teasing, torturous mouth wrapped up around him, taking him into his hot, tight throat. Steve's got his mouth agape, and it's no surprise when the words fall out-

"Boys really do that in California?"

"Mh, feels good too. Better head than any bitch here'd give you. Head so fucking good that you forget how to breath, forget how to think," Billy lowers his voice, like he's telling a wonderful secret. "It'd make make you feel so good, princess, you'd forget all about whats-her-face."

Steve should shut him down, but he's a victim to the tightness of his jeans. He can feel the exact moment where his disgust bends over into desire, and it makes him lean forward, eyes shifting around like a kid afraid of getting caught. He speaks before the panic can kick in again. 

"You've done it before?"

"Mhm."

"And you liked doing it?"

"Mhm."

"And- and-" Steve catches his bottom lip between his teeth as his cock throbs against the hard denim of his jeans. "And you want to do that to me? Not- not that I'm saying I want that, but, hypothetically speaking, you'd be down for that?"

Instead of responding, Billy grabs the string of Steve's hoodie. He tugs him forward, so their lips are inches apart. Steve feels like a dog being tugged on his leash by his owner, and the twisted thought shouldn't make his stomach twist like that. Nothing has happened, but he's already panting, ready for it. Billy leans in closer, so his wet lips are pressed against the soft shell of Steve's ear-

"Only if you beg for it." 

Then he lets go and turns around to do his work, like he didn't just given Steve the word's most embarrassing hard on. Steve's never been offered anything like this. Girls only suck you off if you wine and dine them. They don't do it if you beg. The temptation makes Steve's throat tighten or maybe that's his hoodie still squeezed around his neck. He chokes back the please that threatens to spill out because he's not a faggot, right? He's not a faggot...he's...horny. He's been horny ever since Billy started to vibrate his desk, ever since Billy started to breath down his neck, ever since Billy pinned him down like it was nothing, like he was nothing. Steve can still the phantom pressure of Billy's hands holding down his wrists, and he's never been held like that. His cock's semi hard, and, as he replays the way Billy held him down, he gets even harder. Pathetic. 

And the most pathetic part? Steve's too much of a pussy to admit to himself what he wants. Instead he swallows back everything he's feeling and finishes up the questions. 

Steve places his test on the desk and then stares at Billy's hunched over figure. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and tugs on his belt.

"I'm...going to the bathroom," Steve announces.

Billy doesn't look up from his paper: "Yeah? And? Need help aiming, princess?"

Steve trails his fingers over the brass buckle of his belt. Underneath, he can see the bulge of his cock, straining to escape. He looks back up at Billy and finds that it's easier to choke down his pride when staring at those pink parted lips.

"Could you help me, uh," Steve lowers his pitch to a whisper. "Please?"

Billy looks up, and his trademark smirk returns as he takes in how wrecked that Steve looks. An hour of teasing will do that. Steve's never been good at controlling his impulses, and this is no different, right? Just an impulse. Just a moment. Just a blowjob. It doesn't mean anything, right? Lips are lips, after all. It hardly matters who they're attached to.

The curly haired boy takes his time finishing up his answers, and he leisurely strolls up to where Steve's leaning against the blackboard. He cocks his head and looks Steve up and down, as if assessing a purchase he made. Billy rests a hand above Steve's head and looks at him like he's some pretty little bitch that he's about to fuck. Steve's the one 'bout to get his dick sucked, so why does Billy make him feel like a nervous schoolgirl? 

"So what is it that you need help with? There's so much that I could teach you to do right. Your math, first of all, needs a lot of work. And your basketball stance? Weak. And then there's..." Billy leans and curls his hand around Steve's bulge. "This. Oh, you need a lot of help with that, huh?"

Then, without asking for permission, Billy leans in to press his lips against Steve's neck. Billy starts it as a soft kiss and then it turns into a bloody bite. Agh, he squirms and tightens his legs as Billy's teeth pierce into his neck. Fuck, he's never had anyone treat him like this. Like- like- like he's something to be owned. Something to be dominated. Steve pushes Billy off him, and he's fully erect now, as much as he hates it. 

"Hey! I- I asked for a helping hand not to be turned into a chew toy! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Steve snaps as Billy easily recoils back and traps him with the wide span of his arms. When he presses a mocking kiss to the edge of his jaw, Steve flinches.

"Oh? You thought I was just going to get on my hands and knees to worship your cock?"

He looks up at the ceiling: "Please."

Billy's lazily playing with the buckle of Steve's jeans: "Please, what? Who are you talking to? Please, Nancy? Or please, Billy?"

Steve grits his teeth as he spits, "Please. Please, Billy."

"That's a good boy," Billy purrs, and it's the first time that he's switched up the nick name from princess. It hits Steve like a punch of arousal straight to the gut, and Steve struggles not to whimper with desperation when Billy strokes him through the front of his jeans. Jesus, the friction alone is enough to make this humiliation worth it. Billy's hands, unlike a girls, are nice and big, and they know how to handle a cock. They know how to handle Steve. As irrational as it seems, he trusts Billy to make him feel good. Billy might talk a lot of shit, but, at the end of the day, he's ready to put his money where his mouth is. (Or his mouth where Steve's cock is.)

Then, with one more squeeze and a kiss to the painful mark on Steve's neck, he goes down and, oh wow, Billy looks breath taking on his knees. He's all blue eyes and lashes and pink lips. Like Nancy, a dark part of his mind reminds him, and Steve hates himself for daring to compare the two. It's just Billy's so fucking pretty, and he's down on his knees, undoing Steve's belt. He's down on his knees where Nancy should be, and this is a hell of a rebound, huh? 

Steve's not sure what to do with his hands, so he grips the bottom of the chalkboard.

Billy undoes his buckle and unzips him like he's opening up a present, like he's been waiting all day to undo Steve's fly, like he's been holding himself back. No girl has ever touched him like it was some kind of privilege. As much as Billy mocked Steve about 'worshiping' his cock...that's what he looks he's about to do. 

"You're good at that," he admits as he strains against his grey boxers. He can see the stain of precum forming where Billy's gently rubbing him through the fabric. 

"I haven't even done anything," Billy laughs. "Wow, a bitch really's never treated you right, huh? I've got you wetting your panties just from a nice rub."

And, fuck, Steve didn't know he needed to see Billy laughing while touching him until it happened. Wow, wow, as much as it stings his masculinity, his cock's swelling up under the taunting. No girl's ever dared to laugh at him -"King" Steve- while touching him, but here's Billy doing just that. But Billy can say whatever the fuck he wants so long as he keeps rubbing Steve like that with the heel of his hand.

"Ready, princess?" Billy asks as he reaches under Steve's waist band and takes his cock into his hand. Oh. Steve tries to remember how to breathe as Billy holds him in his big fingers. They're so big that they could pump up and down him with just the smallest flicker of his wrist. God, Steve is used to little fingers. Delicate fingers. Not strong, capable fingers that know just how to hold him. Steve's own fingers are white as he holds onto the edge of the chalkboard for dear life. He's never been so thoroughly teased and taunted and touched. No one's ever treated him like Billy has.

"Please," Steve has no problem begging now that he can see Billy's pink lips parting. "Please, oh god, pleasepleasepleaseplease."

He's babbling like the biggest bitch, and he's barely keeping it together. Billy smirks, teeth glinting, as he cocks his eyebrow and parts his lips a little wider. Steve's getting louder, and he's always been mouthy in bed with Nancy, but he's not in bed -he's in public- and this isn't Nancy- this is Billy. 

"Shhhh, that's it. Don't want anyone walking in on you, do you? See King Steve turned into a princess. Come on- try not to cum before I even put my mouth on you."

They're both in danger if they get caught, so Steve bits his lip. He closes his eyes as Billy's hot breathe curls around the curve of his cock. Then warm lips wrap around the tip -just the tip- and his makes a pathetic little noise. Steve knows he's acting like a virgin, but he's too far gone to care. He's never gotten head from a boy. He's never even dreamed of it before Billy offered and isn't that wild? That he's got his jeans around his ankles and Billy's hot mouth around him?

As Billy's hot mouth slides down and takes him all the way down to his base, Steve really does forget how to breathe. He opens up his eyes to see the cum worthy sight of Billy's mouth full of nothing but his cock. Billy looks up at him, and his eyes are a little glazed. Steve dares to let go of the chalkboard and softly touches the other boy's locks- is this okay?

Billy pulls back up, leaving spit running down the length of Steve's cock. He comes off with a wet pop: "Don't pet me. I'm not a dog, Steve."

"Sorry-"

"Pull. I want you to pull my hair and fuck my mouth."

"I- sorry? What?"

Billy rolls his eyes in frustration as he gives the tip of Steve a sullen lick: "Never fucked a bitches mouth, Steve? So sad. Come on, pretend I'm that cunt that broke up with you or- or the dude that stole your girl-" Steve's cock jumps in Billy's hand. "Oh, you like that one, huh? I want you to fuck my mouth like I'm that Jonathon. Or Nancy. Whatever gets you there."

And Steve doesn't need to be told twice. He's got all of this pent up anger, and it makes him dig his hands into Billy's soft hair and jerk him hard down his cock. Billy easily follows him, and there's that glazed look in his eyes again. Steve gets a shiver of power from this position, from having Billy suck on his cock like Nancy used to. When he squints his eyes, it goes from Nancy to Jonathon kneeling before him, worshiping the length of his cock with his tongue. 

"Yeah?" he whispers. "Like that? I know you like that..." Jonathan. 

He holds back the word because it's too perverse to even say out loud. To have Nancy's new boyfriend down on his knees? Oh god, it's almost -almost!- as mind blowing as having Billy here. 

Steve forces Billy down until he's chocking on his cock, tears gathering up in the corner of Billy's eyes. Saliva's spilling out the corner of Billy's mouth. It's wet and messy and perfect. Shit. The fantasy Jonathan's gone, and now it's just Billy -beautiful Billy- down on his his knees, taking his cock like he never wants to let go. He can feel his orgasm coming as he tightens his grip in Billy's hair. 

"Oh god, Billy; your mouth is so hot and warm and perfect. H-how are you doing this? You look- god, you look like a fucking fetish- ah!" Steve whimpers as he cums, and Billy, instead of moving back, easily swallows his load. It's getting repetitive, but no girl's ever swallowed his cum before. 

The orgasm leaves his legs shaking. He's all sweat and red cheeks and panting. 

Billy wipes his mouth: "Next time, you're going to have to be quieter than that, princess."

Next time?

Chapter Text

It’s official. Billy broke Steve's dick.

Steve will start with his usual favorite fantasy of Nancy down on her knees, and, after a couple strokes, his cock will get hard from the stimulation. But halfway through, Nancy's blue eyes and pink lips will become Billy's. Her delicate fingers on the base of his cock will be Billy's. Steve will be pressed against that blackboard and- yeah, that’s about when he’ll stop. Hands slick with shame.

He’s afraid of why his mind keeps wandering back. Why does his body respond to only that memory? Why can’t he forget it and move on?

Steve's world has tilted on its axis, and he’s dizzy from all this blue-balling. He can’t sleep. Can’t eat anything but chips. Who knew a sexual crisis would be so anti-climatic. It’s only been one week, but also one week is forever when you’re used to getting off every night.

And Billy's been...nicer? Apparently all Steve had to do was fuck that boy's mouth for him to stop mouthing off. When Billy sees Steve at practice, he passes him the ball. When Billy sees Steve in the hallway, he nods.

Steve wishes he could stay away, but, like a girl with a crush, he finds himself leaning against Billy's locker, backpack slung over one shoulder, when the final bell rings on Friday. It's been seven days since detention. Seven days since he's let himself cum, and his skin feels tighter than it should.

"Hey, princess," Billy says with a signature smirk as he slams open his locker. "Lose something?"

Yeah, my fucking sanity.

"Listen, I need to talk to you. Alone."

"About what?"

"You know...about that thing."

Billy's raises an eyebrow as he drops his books into his backpack and says, "Oh, that thing? Well, I think we can talk about that later tonight when I take you to this nice spot. You'll like it there. 'S pretty in the moonlight."

Steve looks around, horrified someone might overhear and correctly interpret it, so he throws in- "Yeah, about Nancy."

"Mhm, right. And Jonathan too? I distinctly remember there being something with him," Billy teases, and Steve flushes as he remembers how he fucked that mouth while imagining...it doesn't matter what he imagined. He's going to tell Billy that they can't continue this. Tonight. They can't continue this because he's straight and, also, this can't go anywhere good.

"Actually it has nothing to do with her...just him. About how I don't want to have this weirdness with him. How we should just leave things be and forget what happened," Steve says and clutches his backpack strap for dear life. Billy gives him a sharp look, smile falling from his face. Steve’s heart twists with something too nice to be fear when Billy slowly looks him up and down, eyes lingering on his neck.

"Listen, princess. Untwist your panties, aight? I'm picking you up at eight sharp, and you better have unclenched. Otherwise," Billy leans in and whispers like a threat, "It won't fit."

Steve's bits his lip as Billy shoulders past him. He follows the sway of that tight ass with his eyes, and, for a second, the words don't register.

Wait...fit what? Steve's never put anything inside of himself, and he has no desire to, thankyouverymuch. That's one way only. Also, when Steve imagined taking things, uh, further with Billy, he'd always been the one doing the giving, not the other way around.

There's no book that Steve knows of that can help him. He's got no adults to ask. He's got nothing but his anxiety and homework to help him through the long afternoon.

When he goes to take a shower, there's a question lingering in the back of his mind. It won't fit. He takes a finger, cautiously traces it down his backside, and then lets it slide in between his cheeks. He breathes in and pushes in. Oh, no. This is Bad. It feels just like a finger in his ass and that's not something he wants. Steve finishes up the shower and goes to fix his hair and get the uncomfortable experience out of his mind.  

Right after sunset, Billy pulls up, and Steve's never felt like such a fucking girl before as he looks himself up and down in the mirror one last time. His only comfort is that Billy probably spent just as much time doing his hair as him.

He grabs his leather jacket and races down the stairs.

"I'm going out with a friend. Be back late," he calls out to the empty house. He stares up at his parent's door, but there's no response. Well, he'll just go fuck himself then.

The fall wind cools his cheeks as he takes a crisp breath. He's not sure what the evening holds. His flimsy plans to "stop this" fade away when he sees the deep V-neck that Billy's got on.

"Got your nipples out, huh?" Steve says as a form of greeting.

Billy opens up the car door: "Just for you, princess."

Steve runs a hand through his freshly gelled hair and flops into the passenger's seat. He fiddles with the radio as Billy slams his way inside the car. For a wild second, he wants to do something crazy like lean in and kiss Billy. Instead, he keeps changing the channel, finally settling on some Michael Jackson. There's more static than words, but the white noise distracts him from the silence that stretches between them, distracts him from the urge to lean in and- and-

"And you never told me where this spot was," Steve says, flinching as he registers the slight hitch of his voice. He clears his throat, but it's too late.

“Aw, don’t be nervous, baby, I don’t bite. Well, not this time...”

As Billy speaks, he leans in to unzip Steve's leather jacket, exposing the mark that he left there. It's an ugly yellow now, but the way that Billy's eyes soften would make you think it was a diamond necklace. Steve goes to rezip.

Billy grabs his wrist: "Don't. Looks nice."

"It's cold," Steve huffs as he crosses his arms, but he doesn't try to zip it again. His reluctant obedience makes Billy smile. It’s a real, eye-crinkling smile, not a regular smirk.

"Forreal though. You look real nice tonight," Billy says, and it's weird to hear his voice so sweet and gentle. Steve, caught off guard, looks up to meet dilated pupils. Billy's done his hair up a little differently, so his curls are more defined. There's a silver earring and necklace. For once, the smell of cologne is stronger than cigarettes. He made an effort , Steve realizes, for me.

"Thanks? You don't look...horrible."

"Oh, wow. You really know how to sweep someone off their feet. Is that how you usually make the moves during the first date?" Billy mocks and then imitates his voice. "You don't look like complete shit tonight, Suzie."

"This isn't a date."

"Mhm.”

"No, really. It isn't," Steve protests, unsure if he’s trying to convince himself or Billy.

Billy just leans in again, and, Steve's eyes widen. They're still parked in the dark driveway, and, while he's pretty sure his parents aren't watching, he can't be too sure. But Billy's not going in to kiss his lips. Instead, he kisses the mark on Steve's neck, lashes softly brushing against his heated skin.

Steve pushes him off: "Stop."

"The princess doth protest too much- that's Shakespeare or some shit. And you know what? No one's making you come. If you want to go, then go," Billy challenges him. There’s an edge to his voice like he’s not sure if Steve will take him up on the offer. Steve’s not sure either. Why is he here? Why is he in Billy’s car? The answer's on the tip of his tongue, but something’s stopping him from saying it to himself.

"This isn't a date...but it's not not a date," Steve tries, grappling for words. As the seconds tick by and Steve stays put, Billy becomes more and more smug. He rests his head against the steering wheel, looking at Steve with those half hooded eyes. Bedroom eyes.

"That's a double negative. Need my help in English and Math, huh? It's okay, baby, you won't need to hurt your pretty little face thinking tonight, not where we're going."

"What are you waiting for then?"

Billy drums his fingers on the steering wheel: "I need you to say yes now because I won't be able to control myself later."

Steve shivers as he registers the predatory tone; it's a cross between a threat and a promise. He looks up at the dark windows of his house and then back to Billy's light eyes, oh so deceptively light eyes. He thinks about his empty bedroom and how Nancy and Jonathan are probably out together, doing who the fuck knows what. He thinks about how tight his skin is. He thinks about how soft Billy’s lips look.

He reaches over to fasten his seat belt and says firmly, "Let's go."

Billy flashes him a white grin, turns up the music, and slams onto the gas.

"FUCK! You drive like a maniac," Steve screams over the music and the roaring wind from Billy's open window.

Billy just laughs, only one hand on the wheel: "Trust me- I know what I'm doing."

And, fuck, that response shouldn't make Steve squirm against the restraints of his seat belt the way it does. He's been the driver for so long, and it's nice to be the one in the passenger's seat for once.

They end up a random spot in the woods, nothing special about it, but it's so lonely here that it makes Steve shiver. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a looming tree. It’s crooked branches form a shape that haunts his darkest nightmares. Steve’s fingers tremble as he runs his hands through his hair, trying not to freak out. Billy notices-

"Scared?"

"Just cold.”

A branch snaps and his heart rate accelerates. He's lived through a horror movie once, and he doesn't want to do it again. Maybe that's why when Billy tugs on his leather jacket and whispers 'come 'ere,' he goes without a word of protest. Steve's never let himself be held, so he feels naked even while fully clothed on Billy's lap. From this position though, he can roll up Billy's window, and since they’re snugly chest to chest, he can't see the darkness behind them.  

"If I’d realized you were scared of the woods, I would have chosen a different spot," Billy says, and his voice is soft again. It's the rarest glimmer of something akin to kindness, and that’s what scares Steve. He'd rather have the taunts and name-calling than....whatever the fuck this is.

"I'm not scared.”

“Mhm, and this isn’t a date, right?”

“Right. I just don’t- shit !”

Steve buries his face in Billy's neck, closing his eye, until he realizes that the noise was nothing but an owl. Shit. Now, there's a hand stroking his back. Steve silently flushes with shame as he realizes how this must look to Billy. They just sit like that for an awkward second before Billy breaks if off with a confused laugh. 

"I'm...okay, is this for real? Wow, I didn't expect this. I know I tease you about being a princess, but you're a big strong boy, Steve; there's nothing or nobody out here that could hurt you.”

If only you knew.

"It's hard to relax here," Steve reluctantly mutters into Billy's neck. It’s embarrassing to cuddle up on him, but they've already crossed that line, haven't they? They crossed it the second that Billy got down to his knees and sucked him off. Steve's crossed it by letting himself be touched and held by another boy. So, now they’re here, chest to fucking chest, straddling each other in the woods. Steve’s torn between laughing and crying, and he settles with neither- hiding his face deeper into the crook of Billy’s neck. He focuses only on Billy's hands, leaving a blazing trail of heat as they slip under his shirt to directly touch his skin.

Billy presses a kiss to his neck, and Steve realizes, after a dumb moment, that it's That Spot again. He's not sure why Billy's obsessed with marking up the skin on his neck, but he is, and Steve allows him. Hell, Steve even tilts his head sideways, encouraging Billy to do what he pleases. For all of Billy's promise-threats, he's been nothing but gentle.

"What are we doing?" He wonders out loud as Billy continues to rub his back, up and down. It's soothing and nice and just- very out of character. He would expect this from someone like Jonathan, not Billy.

"Relaxing you," Billy grunts. "Is it working?"

"I’m not sure. All I know is this is the weirdest foreplay ever- wait, is this foreplay?" Steve asks as Billy's hands slip down from his back down to his ass. Those big fingers rub him through the tight, tight denim of his jeans. Steve’s never had his ass massaged, and it shouldn’t feel this good. Faggots like to have their ass touched, don’t they? So that must mean....no, this train of thought makes his head ache.

"Enjoy it," Billy orders as if he can sense Steve’s unease. "This might come as a surprise to you, but I want you to feel good. You've been so on edge all week, and I need you to relax...can you do that? Or are you going to be tight all fucking night?"

"I don't know. Just...keep doing that with your hands," Steve groans into Billy's neck in response to the rhetorical questions. He lets the tension fall from his shoulders then his back and -after a heartbeat- actually does unclench his cheeks. Billy rewards him with another kiss to his jaw. This is just disgustingly sweet, and it makes him feel...small. After all, he hasn't been held like this since he was a little boy on his father's lap. Steve thinks about telling Billy to stop, but, for some reason, he doesn't want to.  

When he closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of cologne and cigarettes, he forgets where he is. Suddenly, he's warm and safe. 

"You like this, don't you? That I'm holding you. You were scared, and I made you feel better," Billy wonders aloud, breathless, and Steve's not really sure why the fuck the boy is getting off on it this much. Maybe it's like when you show a girl a scary movie just to get her to cuddle up to you. Except what Steve is feeling isn't a movie- it's real.

"Yeah, you sociopath," Steve snorts. "Haven't you ever comforted your little sister?"

"No. Gross."

"...didn't your mom or dad ever hold you when you were scared?"

"Nope."

Steve believes that.

"Well, that's what it's like when you help someone. Feels good, yeah?" Steve says, and it occurs to him that Billy, for all his grandeur, has little emotional intelligence. In order to get Steve's attention, he did the high school equivalent of yanking on Steve's ponytails.

Billy answers by pulling Steve closer. Fingers dig into the sore muscles of his back and sides. Soft lips kiss up and down his neck. Steve's cock hardens under the attention. It’s the most sensual thing that he’s ever done since- well, since Nancy, of course. Steve tenses up. He's had to be Nancy's rock for so long -the one who kept his shit together while she lost her’s- and now? Now, he's slowly rocking his growing erection into the rough denim of Billy's jeans. Steve gasps as Billy grinds up into him. What would she think if she could see me like this? Squirming in the lap of another boy? 

“Stop thinking,” Billy snaps and gives him a reprimanding pinch on the ass.

“Sorry, just...this is a lot,” Steve says as he continues to rock his hips to meet Billy's bulge. The friction is the worst but also- also he can't get his hips from dragging forward, from seeking out that forbidden pressure. 

“What's a lot? The woods? Or getting wood from another boy?”

Steve snorts: “Both.”

“Well, stop thinking. There’s nothing in the woods that wants to fuck with me,” Billy snarls, and Steve hates that the words comfort him. He hates that they make his heart clench and his hips rock faster. He hates that he feels anything but confusion and lust for this maniac. But when he says it like that, I believe him.

Billy’s undoing the buttons of Steve’s jeans, and he flushes darker as they come down. He’s got nothing to say because this? This is some vulnerable shit right here. Any other night Steve would have pushed Billy away and defended his masculinity, but tonight’s not that night. Tonight Steve just wants to be taken care of.

“You’re so quiet this time,” Billy notes as he runs his hands over Steve’s underwear clad ass. “Is it cause I’m taking your virginity, princess?"

He rolls his eyes: “God, can you not ruin this by being an asshole? If I’m gonna let you...do this, I want you to shut up. Alright? Complete silence while you do god knows what to my ass. Not a fucking taunt or ‘princess’ or any of that shit.”

“Okay...fine. S'long as you can keep yourself from moaning,” Billy agrees as he continues to play with Steve’s ass. He’s holding Steve like he owns him, and, fuck, that shouldn’t make his cock throb.

“Yeah sure whatever, dude.”

Why would I moan, Steve privately wonders to himself. He’s only doing this because it means Billy will keep holding and touching him. Also, he’s sure that he’ll get another mind blowing blowjob afterwards.

He keeps his breathing shallow as Billy peels his boxers down. Then there’s the pop of a bottle and, after a grunt, Billy’s finger finds its way down to Steve’s entrance. A kiss to his neck. And then- then the finger pushes up. Steve sinks his own fingers deep into Billy’s back. He inhales cologne. Breathe in. As Steve starts to get used to the lubricated digit, the strangest thing happens. His hips start to rock in time with Billy. His eyes start to glaze over. His lips part and-

“Oh,” he exhales as Billy’s finger crooks inside of him and rubs against a spot that makes his toes tingle. He’s been holding his breathe so hard that he’s dizzy.

Shhh,” Billy hums against his ear, and the sound is a mocking tenor.

Steve can suddenly understand why Billy told him not to moan. Yeah, sure it’s weird, but Billy’s doing this thing with his finger that- ah ! Ah, oh fuck. Billy chuckles as Steve struggles to bite back all the little noises that threaten to leak from his lips.  

This is nothing like the Bad shower experience...this is...different. Good different.  And I want more, Steve realizes as he nuzzles into Billy’s neck, silently pleading for more with the helpless jerk of his hips. His cock has gone from half hard with interest to fully erect as Billy slips in a second finger. He’s being slow and gentle, but it’s not enough.

“Billy,” Steve whines, and he’s lost their quiet game. He peeks down at where his cock is pressed between them; it's red and throbbing and leaking precum onto Billy's purple shirt. 

“Steve,” Billy responds in a mocking tenor as he slowly -painfully slowly- sinks his fingers all the way inside of him. Steve momentarily loses his ability to speak as Billy rubs against that magic spot again.

He squeezes his thighs around Billy’s and snaps in frustration- “Billy!”

“What is it, baby? As pretty as you sound repeating my name, try to use your big boy words. Come on,” Billy goads him. “What do you need?”

Baby . His mind is too hazy to try and determine if he likes it more than princess . Everything’s white and hazy and cologne filled. Everything’s hot and hard and not enough. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes as Billy continues his slow pace.

“Faster,” Steve rasps like he’s learning how to speak again.

And Billy obliges him by pressing him forward, so his back is against the steering wheel. His fingers must have a better angle like this because he’s pressing up against that spot every time that he comes in. Steve’s eyes are squeezed shut and all he can stupidly think is- why didn’t anyone tell me boys had a g-spot?

“Fuck, you sure you’ve never done this before? Looks like you were fucking born to take my fingers inside of you. Shit. Look like you’re close, aren’t you?”

He is. Factor in his seven day sexual abstinence, and Steve’s clawing at Billy’s back like an animal. Those fingers pound into him hot and fast and dirty. Oh god, this is fucking filthy. In. Out. Squeeze.

“Fuck,” Steve finally moans out loud. “Oh god. What is this? What the fuck are you doing to me? W-what the fuck, Billy? Ho-how many boys have you done this to?”

“Enough.”

And Steve’s not even jealous. All he’s thinking about as he throws his head back that he’s glad for every single boy that came before him that taught Billy how to crook his fingers like that. Who taught him how to find that spot with every sweet thrust. He wonders if he’s leaving scratch marks as his nails drag down Billy’s back. Billy, as if in retaliation, bites down into Steve’s neck, right into the bruise. Hard.

Ah!

He cums without his body’s permission, hips rolling into Billy’s tantalizing pressure. He cums with his lips slack. Tears dripping down his face. He cums harder than he’s ever come before and then-

Then he’s back where he was before- in Billy’s lap. Except this time, all of his body is loose and sweaty and blissed the fuck out. It’s the best goddamn high. Steve smiles and leans forward to press a grateful kiss to Billy’s lips. Our first kiss.

“Wow,” Billy pants, eyes wide like Steve’s just blown his world and not the other way around.

“What?”

"You act like a real slut for a virgin, you know that?”

“Fuck off,” Steve laughs, too happy to be mad.

“No, forreal. I’ve fingered hella boys in California, and I’ve never met one as sexually repressed as you. You fucking clawed the skin of my back, you animal.”

“I’m the animal? You’re the one who bit me!”

“It’s like you haven’t come in weeks,” Billy says as he laps at the wound. “Jesus. Did your ex never touch you?”

“Not like that,” Steve groans, and he wishes that Billy would just shut the fuck up and let the moment be. That’s when he realizes that Billy’s still hard, and he hasn’t done anything about it. He’s tired, but he doesn't want to be a selfish lover. He pushes himself out of Billy’s warm lap and then goes down to his knees.

“Mh, that’s a good luck on you, princess. Kneeling. Come on, baby, open up.”

Steve feels utterly debauched. Hair sticking up and cheeks red. His eyes are glazed, and he doesn't know the fuck he’s doing. Luckily, Billy does all the work, gripping his hair and using his mouth for pleasure. After a couple thrusts, which make Steve gag, he pulls out with a wet pop. One stroke. Two stroke. And he’s cumming all over Steve’s face.

He wipes his face, smearing the cum over himself, and asks, “Was that good?”

Billy wouldn’t be Billy if he didn’t tug his boxers up, start the ignition, and scream over the rumble of the motor- “I’ll show you how to do it right next time.”

Next time. He can’t wait.

Chapter Text

“You feeling this song?” Billy screams over the stereo.

Steve’s grateful for the eardrum bleeding volume that Billy plays his tunes, so he doesn't have to explain how he’s feeling. How is he feeling? To be honest, he can’t feel anything past the dull ache where Billy’s fingers where, and now...now he’s painfully empty. He rubs his sore jaw as he gives Billy a sly glance. The other boy looks peaceful with the wind blowing his hair, not a fucking care in the world.

Billy winks at him when he catches his gaze.

Steve snaps his head away like he was slapped. His heart’s pounding, quieter than the music but too loud for him to ignore. He’s still dizzy from holding his breath while giving Billy head and- wow, he really just let a boy fuck his mouth, huh? Sober too.

He leans his flushed face against the cold window and stares out into the darkness. It’s the kind of night that’s unnaturally dark. Even the stars are muted. The moon has been swallowed whole, and Steve swallows as he rubs his hands down the cartilages of his throat.

Stop thinking , Billy’s words from earlier echo in his head, but Steve can’t stop the masochistic way that his fingers press down into the bruise. It’s still slightly wet from Billy’s salvia. His boxers are still wet with lube and cum. A drop of sweat trickles down his neck as he feels the heat of Billy’s eyes on him.

When he shifts, a jolt of pain shoots up his spine and his spent cock weakly twitches. Fuck, Billy’s literally managed to get up all the way inside him. This all started off just as an easy blowjob and it ended with him whimpering like a little bitch on another’s boy lap- no, not another boy’s lap. Billy’s lap. It always ends and starts with Billy, doesn't it?

The events from earlier flip back to back like a smutty magazine’s pages falling open. Steve grinding in Billy’s lap. Billy’s fingers crooking up. Steve’s arched back. The bite. The cum. He watches it all through glazed, shocked eyes. Who the fuck is that mess? Certainly not the boy that Nancy fell in love. Certainly not the same boy from a week ago, desperate to win her back. The fear that was pushed away by his arousal slowly twists back up. It’s changed this time, transformed from the shape of the demogorgon to the smaller monsters that live in the damp corners of his mind. It takes Nancy’s soft voice as it lectures him- stop this, Steve. Are you hooking up with Hargrove to get back at me? Is that it?

Steve has no answer. He just wants to change out of these undies and take a long, hot shower.

They pull up in his driveway and Billy turns the radio down to a human volume. He still has to raise his voice slightly when he asks-

“So you want to end this date with a goodbye kiss or...?”

“Fuck you,” Steve snaps, skin tightening. It’s not a date. A date holds the promise that there might be another, that it might lead to something more. He looks up at the yellow windows of the house, but they makes him feel colder. He crosses his arms.

Billy turns the radio down all the way and unsnaps his seat belt.

When he speaks, it’s the soothing tone from before: “Nah, I’m thinking it’s gonna be the other way around, me fucking you. But if you ask nicely, you can have a turn fucking me. Maybe when you’re less sore, amiright? Steve?"

“I said fuck off.”

Billy reaches forward to squeeze his arm. Steve’s not sure if he likes that or not. He’s not sure about anything except that he’s fucking angry (at Billy? Or himself? Nothing’s clear).

“Look I had a good time. You had a good time- well, at least you looked like you were having a good time, so...now what?"

Steve stares out of the window, and he knows he's being childish. Billy exhales, and his voice is strained, like he's at the end of his short temper. 

"Spit it out, princess." 

“Stop calling me that,” Steve snarls as he twists around to meet Billy’s eyes. “I asked you before. Like do you just not give a shit? I get that you get off on me squirming or whatever but it would be cool if you could just- could just act like a human being and not a dick!”

Billy’s jaw tightens, as does his grip.

“I think that you keep pushing and pushing and- and maybe I’m closer to snapping than you think? Maybe I’m just not over my fucking ex, and I’m doing stupid shit, alright?”

“Stupid shit,” Billy repeats, eyes burning into Steve's. 

“Yeah, stupid shit. This wasn’t a date. This was- this was a rebound. What I had- no, what I have with Nancy is real because we’ve been through shit you can’t even imagine. Shit that you wouldn't even believe."

Billy's hand possessively tightens around Steve’s shoulder at Nancy's name, and the veins on his arms angrily pop. Steve uncrosses his arms, so he can defend himself if it gets physical. He can feel the electric energy in the air. 

To his surprise, Billy relaxes, lets go of him, and shrugs. 

“Fine. Fuck. Whatever. I was a rebound. But why are you acting like I forced you to do this? You asked me to blow you in the classroom. You asked to meet with me alone. You got on my lap and asked me to hold you. You got on your knees -on your own fucking free will- to suck me off, and you want to know what?"

"What?" Steve snaps, his own fists tightening. 

"It was a shitty blowjob. Top five worst. The only thing hot about it was how much you wanted to be good for me. Oh, god, you should have seen yourself down on your knees, slobbering. Always trying to please, aren’t we, baby?”

Ouch. 

Billy looks smug when he sees how flustered his words have made Steve and that just makes him angrier.

“Congratulations,” Steve says, every bit aware of how dumb this sounds. “You give better head than me. You want a fucking award, dick?”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised. I was a dick before you begged me to suck yours, princess.”

Faggot,” Steve spits before he can think it through.

Billy turns pale like he’s just been slapped and sharply inhales. All the smirks and eyebrow quirks are gone. Steve’s staring into watering blue eyes.

The other boy looks away first.

“Ok. Yeah. I see how it is. I thought you were different than other boys, but- whatever. Don’t let the car door slam your tight ass on the way out.”

Steve knows this means goodbye, but he hesitates. He’s not sure what he’s hoping to see. Billy wiping his face with the back of his hand? That’s...no, he didn’t mean to make him cry. Jesus, he went too far.

“Shit. Dude, no, I'm sorry...I...I don't know why I said that. I just hated that you kept calling me 'princess' when I told you to stop and-”

“Save it. The truth is I called you pet names because I liked you, ok? I fucking liked you. And If I wanted to get called a fag, I’d have stayed the fuck home-”

“No, really, I’m sorry. I was angry, and I said something I didn’t mean,” Steve whispers and reaches out, only to get his hand slapped away.

Billy, eyes more cloudy than dark, turns on the engine: “Get out, Harrington."

And then Steve’s standing alone, in a cloud of motor exhaust, feeling worse off than before. The anger’s gone and all that’s left is the cold. Not even a hot shower can warm him back up. 

If he leans his wet face against his pillow to cry, no one can see him now.

No one except that evil, little voice in his head, who whispers- takes a faggot to know a faggot, doesn't it?

----------------------

Steve’s one hope was that Billy would leave him alone, but it’s like he just set a fire under the other boy’s ass. Billy comes back harder and crueler, leaving only the pet names behind that cold night.

“Move your head, Harrington. Can’t see the answers.”

Steve tightens his jaw, unsure how he ended up back here, back at square one. What pisses him off more? The knowledge that Billy doesn't need to cheat off him? Or that Billy does it just to fuck with him?

He can’t concentrate because he hasn’t slept. Hasn’t even studied. He shoves his quiz to the side and rests his throbbing head in his arms. It’s been three days since faggot-gate but it might as well be three years.

Steve thinks of Nancy, and he welcomes the familiar pain from her absence. It’s more reassuring than the uncomfortable bruise that’s blossomed on his neck. Or the slight shiver of pain he earns when he sits down too hard. Something hurt, Harrington? Billy had snarled when he’d seen Steve flinch at basketball practice earlier and rub his ass. Steve had fixed him with a cold gaze.

In the showers, there’d been nothing but steaming sexual tension. Steve couldn’t help how his hungry eyes devoured the sight of Billy in his towel. Billy had cocked his head and puckered his lips as Steve looked away, cheeks red.

They're hot and then cold and then-

“Hot gossip here, Harrington. Seems like Nancy and Jonathan are missing from school for the last day. Looks like they rebounded better than you.”

Steve doesn't believe it. No, he doesn't want to believe it, so he heads over to Nancy’s house that evening with roses, and that’s how he ends up stumbling into a panicked Dustin. There’s no better time to fall down the rabbit hole than now. Now, the primal threat of a monster in Dustin’s basement is easier to understand than his own feelings. Monsters are real shit. Shit that Steve knows how to deal with.

For better or worse, Steve feels himself reverting back into the person that he was for Nancy. Capable Steve. Good guy Steve. Hero Steve.

And then Billy had to come looking for his kid sister. Had to stumble down this rabbit hole with him.

"Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?" Billy calls from where he's leaning on the hood of his car. He looks like fucking sex in that leather jacket, all slicked back like he's pulled up for another date. 

"Yeah, it's me," Steve says, hands on his hips. "Don't cream yourself. What are you doing here, amigo?"

Billy strips off his leather jacket, cigarette hanging from between his smirking lips, and takes a threatening step forward. Steve tries not to let the fear show on his face as he approaches Billy. This is the first time that he's been able to look him in the eyes since that night. He has to be brave for the kids. 

“Could ask you the same thing. Amigo,” Billy says as he blows out smoke. “I know for a fact your rich ass doesn't live in this dump. I'm looking for my step sister, and a little birdie told me that she was here."

He's not sure if he should tell Billy the truth or lie to him. If it wasn't for faggot-gate, he'd try to go for the truth, but he can feel the smokey tension between them. 

“Huh, that's weird. I don't know her. I’m, uh, visiting Jonathan.”

Billy looks him up and down as he invades his personal space: “Oh, yeah? I interrupt your little three way date with him and your ex? Maybe I’d better come back another time-”

“You should.”

“Mhm, while I’d love to leave you to that, Harrington. I’m concerned why my step sister’s here.”

Steve curses under his breath as he turns to see the kids peeking through the window. They shriek and duck down. Billy flicks his cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with his boots. There's no use lying anymore, so Steve's only got one defense left- the truth. 

Billy tries to push past him into the house, but Steve grabs his arm. 

"Let. Go. Harrington.”

Steve’s going to need Billy to come calm down, and he only knows one way to do that. He takes Billy’s hand and presses it to the fading mark on his neck. He’s aware that the kids might still be watching them through the window with open eyes, so he whispers, too low for them to hear-

“You remember how scared I was that night? And how you didn’t understand why?”

Billy goes still: “Yeah. So what?" 

“So I swear on this mark that the ‘why’ is going down right now,” Steve lowers his voice and squeezes Billy’s fingers. “And I need your help. You remember how you helped me before? And how good you felt?”

Steve’s not sure that would work, but Billy's eyes are the softest blue that he’s ever seen them. When Billy tenderly rubs his thumb against the bruise, Steve struggles to hold back a shiver. They're standing so close that he can feel Billy's breathe against his cheek. It feels like the world condense to the point where Billy's touching him, hot and tender. He can see Billy pushing him away or pulling him closer, and he holds his breathe as he waits for it. 

“Ok. Fine. but not for you,” Billy agrees. “I have to protect Max from whatever the fuck is going on in this shit hole of a town because if you let her die, my parents will fucking kill me. That’s it, Harrington.”

Steve’s not sure why, but he feels the absence of the pet names more strongly than ever before. He’s overcome with the strangest urge to bury his face into Billy’s neck because of course it’s safe there and- and, no, the kids are here. The kids need help. Steve and Billy can work out their shit later (if there’s a later, of course).

Billy saunters into the house with his hands shoved in pockets. His eyes narrow when he sees Lucas, but he doesn't do anything. He zeros in on his little sister and says-

“Come ‘ere. If anyone’s going to protect your useless ass, it’s going to be me.”

“Why is he here?” Max asks and takes a step closer to Lucas.

“He’s here as arm power, okay? Billy’s- well, Billy's a lot of things, but he’s strong, okay?”

Max protests, “You’re strong, Steve! We don’t need him!”

"Fuck you too, Max."

Steve meets Billy’s eyes: “I want him here. End of argument.”

Lucas and Dustin don't argue with Steve as they eye up Billy's muscles. Max crosses her arms, but she's outnumbered. 

And since there's no time for bickering, Steve hurries them into the car. He flops into the passenger's seat with his bat in hand, and when he peeks over at Billy, he has to struggle not to smile. The boy's biting his lip in concentration, a curl falling over his blue eyes as he revs up the engine. Steve knows they're kind of in a life or death situation, and he's not emotionally over Nancy, but -fuck- if he doesn't want to kiss Billy right now. I'm glad that he's here, Steve thinks, and the thought surprises him. It's like this-- the sudden pressure of being The Big Bad Babysitter is gone with Billy here. Like, yeah, Billy's a dick, but it's reassuring to have him fighting on their side, by his side. 

When Billy catches his eye, Steve doesn't look away this time. 

"Thanks for coming."

"Like I'd let you idiots go by yourself and get killed by..." Billy trails off as he glances back at where Max is sitting almost in Lucas's lap. "Hey! Leave room for Jesus."

"They're kids," Steve says sternly.

"Kids that need to be fucking watched. And I can't leave you to babysit all by yourself, Steve."

Not King. Not Princess. Not Harrington. Just Steve. 

His hand tightens around his bat as they take a sharp turn into the pumpkin patch: "You don't know what trouble you're getting yourself into."

"Maybe not...but I know I'm getting you out of it," Billy says, and Steve's chest tightens at the reassuring sound because when Billy says it like that, Steve always believes him. 

----------------------

Steve gasps as Billy pulls him out, and they lie side by side, panting under the gleaming sky. Alivealivealivealive, the stars seem to scream. Lucas, Max, and Dustin are whooping in victory, and every sweet, crisp breath is sweeter than the last. Steve's heart is pounding like the demi-dogs are still racing past him. He's afraid if he closes his eyes for a second, he'll sink back into the ground. Billy's fingers squeeze his, and Steve turns to look at the other boy. They stare at each other, no words to describe what they've just witnessed. Steve leans in and presses his lips to Billy's red cheek, innocent enough that no one would notice but still sensual enough that Billy's squeezes his hand. Hard.

Police sirens force Steve to his feet, and he pulls Billy up with him. They're bumping into each other's spaces, warming each other with their white breathe. Billy wraps his arm around Steve, and Steve leans into the touch, grateful that he's not alone. 

"You saved my ass back there," Steve says, voice purposefully low.

"Mhm," Billy hums and his thumb sensually swipes up Steve's neck. "Does that mean I own it now?"

He presses his lips to Billy's shoulder, and Billy's hand sneaks down to rest over the curve of his ass. No one's watching them, but even if they were, Steve's not sure he would care. He's drunk off their victory. He's leaning up, hot and heavy, into Billy, begging for it. He's not sure what he needs but he needs it now. He needs it hot and hard, until he can't remember his own name. He leans in, so his lips are pressed against the shell of Billy's ear.

"My parents are out of town tonight."

"I have to- I have to drop off Maxine-"

"Drop her off and then sneak out."

Billy's hand sneaks up under the back of his shirt: "You don't know what you're asking for, do you?"

That sends a shiver down to the base of his spine, down to where Billy's fingers had dipped down three nights ago. Steve's throat tightens as he remembers how those thick fingers had stretched him open. He has to hold himself back because Dustin's looking over at them with furrowed eyebrows. They need to get these kids home ASAP. He nudges Billy and nods over to where Dustin, Lucas, and Max are huddled. It's hell trying to keep his hands to himself as they crowd back into the car.

They drop off Lucas and Dustin first. Then they pull up to Steve's house. If Max wasn't in the back seat, he'd-

"Why are you two looking at each other like that? Like you're gonna kiss or somethin'."

"Shut up, Max," Billy snaps, but it lacks the usual bite. "Night...Harrington."

"Hargrove." 

Neither of them move, and finally, Billy reaches forward with a yougotsomethingthere to press his fingers against the mark on Steve's neck. A promise? Steve blinks and suppresses a smile as he pulls away.

When he gets back to the room, he closes the door and slides down. He's not going to sleep tonight.

He kicks off his ruined sneakers and then strips his clothes off. He groans as he turns the shower on, and the hot water peals away the layers of dirt that have coated his skin, peals away the dust of the upside down, peals away the fear and tension. Steve rests his head against the glass of the shower and runs a hand down between his legs. His cock stirs as he lets his fingers lightly graze down the length, just teasing himself. He can still feel the heat of Billy's breath against his neck, and he imagines Billy pressing him up against the shower. Fuck. His cock jumps in his hand at the erotic thought of being dominated. I don't like Billy because he's a boy, Steve decides, I like him because he's Billy.

Billy. Oh god, Billy with his hard abs and light eyes. Steve wants to stroke himself to the thought, but he manages to restrain himself. He wants to be nice and tight for Billy because how that's how the other boy likes him. So Steve takes a stuttering breath and turns off the shower. He dresses in nothing but grey sweat pants, slicks back his hair, and bites his lip. Good enough.

He gets into bed and tries to think of nothing, but his mind wanders back to three nights ago. He'd never felt anything like that. Those fingers. That dirty mouth. That friction. His cock twitches in interest, and Steve snaps the waistband of his sweatpants in punishment.  Is Billy going to come or no? He'll wait an hour, and if Billy's not here by one A.M, then he's going to assume that he couldn't sneak.

It's hell-- Steve can't sleep or cum, so what can he do? He's forced to wander back down, down into the other side. His heart quickens in the worst way, and it's a relief when a knock at the window snaps him back into reality.

Steve grins as he sees Billy, looking like a sex god. Steve jerks his head towards the front of the house and then goes to let him in.

"You said we're alone, right?" Billy asks, straight to the fucking point as he slams the door behind him and backs Steve up into the wall. Billy's still cold and dirty from the night, but, for some reason, Steve likes him better that way. He wraps his warm arms around Billy's neck, stomach twisting as he realizes that Billy could probably support his weight, could just fuck him right against this wall. 

"R-right," Steve says, voice strained as Billy's cold hands find their way to the small of his back. The temperature difference sends a jolt of heat between his legs. 

He looks up into Billy's eyes and then down to his lips. Oh god, they're so pink and perfect- perfect fucking blowjob lips. He's been waiting to taste them all night, and finally -finally!- he leans in to kiss him. Billy's lips are soft and glossy enough to be a girl's, but he smells like cigarettes and aftershave. When Billy hands slip under his waistband and sink down around his ass, Steve opens his mouth and then his whole world shifts. 

Steve's not even sure that he's doing a good job—it’s so wet and sloppy—just knows that when Billy pulls back, Steve follows him, wanting more. 

"So desperate, prince- ehhh, I mean-"

"It's fine," Steve admits, voice small. "If you wanna call me names, I don't mind. I just didn't like when you did it all the time, you know?"

"Okay, darling," Billy says with a smirk and squeezes Steve's ass like he owns it.

Steve happily groans as he wraps his legs around Billy's waist, and Billy leans down to push him all the way up against the wall. They really should go to his bedroom, but Steve likes this too much. He likes that they're doing this out in the open, where -if any of his parents were home- they could be caught. He likes how Billy is holding him, nice and tight. He can feel Billy's cock hardening through his stiff jeans. His own cock's stirs as Billy man handles him, pulling him into another mind-blowing kiss. There’s a squeak that Steve realizes, too late, came from him, but he’s too deep to care. He closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall, letting himself be kissed, wet tongues sliding against one another.

"Like that?" Billy taunts as he pulls back. They're both panting from the effort, and Billy's rolling up his hips into Steve, like he's imagining fucking him. Steve throbs at the feeling, and he's all too aware of just how empty he is.

"Come on," Steve demands. "We're not gonna make it if we keep doing this."

"Make it...? To?"

"To- you know-"

"I want to hear you say it. Want to hear how quickly I've turned Steve Harrington into my slut." 

Steve flushes and mutters, wet lips pressed up to Billy's ear: "Want you inside me."

The words alone have Billy pushing up into him and moaning into his neck. Steve sinks his fingers down into Billy's skin, and it feels like he’s hooked on the strangest drug. The kind that comes with a lot of mocking babies and princesses. The kind that there’s no therapy for. The kind that makes him want to spiral out of control. 

"Come on. Before I take your virginity against a fucking wall," Billy says as he lowers Steve and nudges him towards the bedroom. Steve's hyper aware of how he's in nothing but sweatpants and Billy's still fully dressed. Somehow, it makes him feel more vulnerable as they stumble into his dark room.

With a soft come 'ere, princess, Billy pushes Steve onto the mattress. Billy's hot and heavy on top of him, pinning him down onto his childhood bed. Their mouths are slick as they move against one anther. When they start to rut against one another -a stuttering, primal rhythm that presses their cocks together- Steve groans. The heat. The friction. The weight of Billy pinning him down. It's heavenly torture. 

Billy pulls back, and a strand of saliva connects their lips. Steve smiles as he sees how well-fucked and satisfied Billy looks. He wipes his mouth. 

"So...I guess this means I'm not straight."

Billy traces his hands down Steve's naked chest, stopping right at his sweatpants: "Yeah, no shit, sherlock. What gave it away? All that not straight kissing? Or was it finally the not straight fondling?" 

"The fact that I'm sharing a bed with the world's biggest dick maybe."

"Aw, you think I'm big," Billy teases as he fondles Steve through his sweats. Billy rubs him through the fabric, focusing on the tip of his cock. Steve happily moans as he looks up at Billy through half lidded lashes. Even in the darkness he can see how beautiful Billy looks. He's sure his sweatpants must be wet from precum, and he's grateful when Billy pulls them down.

He's aware of how naked he is compared to Billy right now, and the vulnerability only makes his cock throb harder. Billy pulls away as he pulls a bottle of lube from his pocket. 

"Relax," Billy urges against his ear. The low, throbbing tenor of Billy's voice makes Steve swallow. 

"It's hard when you're- oh!" Steve gasps as a cold digit presses against his entrance. Billy slides the finger in faster than he did the first time, and Steve's surprised how much easier it is now, how quickly his body adjusts to the intrusion. After just a minute, two fingers slowly rock inside of him, and it must be because he's still stretched out from before. Steve's toes curl as Billy's finger brush against that spot and he flushes.

"Fuck," Billy rasps in his ear. "You're gonna make me cum with this whole blushing virgin thing. Been waiting all night to have my fingers inside you, you know. I could smell your arousal the second I stepped out of my car, and, oh fuck, you should have seen your face. You looked like you were gonna wet yourself." 

"Y-you can't smell arousal," Steve protests even as he helplessly claws at Billy's back. He's got his face pressed into the crook of the other boy's neck, his favorite spot it seems when Billy fingers him open. Every throbbing word and well timed thrust of Billy's fingers makes his cock swell. 

"Mh, maybe not. But I knew you needed this. Knew you needed me to hold you down and spread your pretty, little pussy open- oh? Like that? Like when I talk about your pussy, baby?" 

"You just never shut up," Steve grumbles as Billy's filthy mouth and fingers continue to fuck him up. Those fingers especially. They're so slick and nice, and Steve's poor cock is pressed up against the denim of Billy's jeans, dripping with desire. And yeah, maybe the whole 'pussy' talk did strangely rile him up, but it's such a strange night that Steve's not surprised by anything anymore. 

"Love when I tease you, don't you, baby? Princess? Darling?" Billy punctuates each pet name with a sharp thrust that rubs that spot, sending sparks down his spine. Causing a drop of cum to squirt down his length. Taking away his breath. 

"Oh, god, yeah," he admits, more honest than he's ever been before. 

Billy pulls back to flip him over, and Steve's annoyed that he has to trade Billy's hard neck for a soft pillow, but it's easier to stifle all his desperate noises. Plus, when he shifts his hip back, he can fuck himself onto Billy's fingers. 

Then Billy pulls his fingers completely out, and Steve whines, hungry for more. 

Billy's warm breath curls around his ass: "Bet I could make you cum with no hands."

"How?" 

Instead of answering, Billy leans forward to press his mouth into- oh god, into- Steve grips the mattress. He squirms as Billy licks him in a long stripe. It's so filthy and disgusting and wonderful that Steve can't function. His cock aches as Billy pushes forward to press his tongue against that spot then laps and licks at it, until saliva is dribbling down Steve's crack. He vaguely wonders if this is how Billy eats a girl out, and the thought makes him shiver as he feels his orgasm edging closer with every sultry lick.

His stomach twists as he hears Billy chuckle.

"God, I barely even touched you, and I swear you were gonna cum all over yourself, baby," Billy snarks and then gives him one more teasing lick. "Try to keep it together for one more minute." 

"W-what was that? H-have you done that before?" Steve struggles to verbalize. Behind him, he hears a grunt as Billy pulls himself out of his jeans. Steve didn't ever envision himself being taken from the back, like an animal, but it makes that sense that Billy would like it like that. He's more beast than boy, after all. Steve's still reeling from the feeling of that rough tongue licking him open, and he can't think or concentrate on what's going on behind him. His skin is overheated, even thought he's completely naked. 

"Why? Jealous?"

"No, I just never knew you could put your mouth...there," Steve admits, feeling stupid, and, if he wasn't so proud, he'd beg Billy to lick him again. He's pretty certain he could cum from that alone. Jesus, he's really going places tonight that he'd never thought he'd go, and Steve's not certain he'll be the same person in the morning.

"I'm really corrupting you, aren't I? If not for me, you'd have gone your whole life without knowing what a freak you could be in the bedroom. You'd never look at a boys fingers and imagine what they'd feel like inside you, stretching you open. You'd never look at a boy's ass and know you could make him cum just by eating him out," Billy muses as he 'pops' off the lid of the lube, and Steve peeks over his shoulder to watch him spreading the liquid over his length. His abs and cock glisten in the moonlight, and Steve's head spins as he realizes what's about to happen. It hits him hard like a punch to the gut and goosebumps rise up his arms. 

"Are you sure it's gonna- uh, you know, gonna work?" Steve stumbles as he shifts his weight on his his knees. He's still craning over his shoulder, biting his lip.

"Sh, there we go," Billy shushes him as he gently rubs the tip against Steve's wet entrance. Steve's slick and loose from Billy's tongue and fingers. He forces himself to turn back around and concentrate on how Billy's strong hand is clutching his ass while the other's pushing his cock inside him. He likes the idea that Billy could easily overpower him, could hold him down and fuck him if he tried to get away. The idea that he'd be helpless to do anything but bury his face into the pillow and take it is so powerful and perfect. Steve doesn't want Billy to fuck him without his consent, but the perverse idea that Billy could (if he wanted to) makes him relax. 

"That's it, princess," Billy praises as he pushes inside him. "Doing so fucking good. Like you were made to take my cock. Shhh, there we go, baby. There we go. You don't know how long I spent staring at your tight little basketball shorts, wishing I could peel them off and have you like I wanted. Or when you bent down in the showers, I used to dream about pressing you up against the wall and taking your ass right there and then. No lube. Just water and spit." 

As his voice rumbles the filthy fantasies, Billy presses his cock in, inch by fucking inch. Steve bites into the pillow, tears gathering in his eyes as he struggles to take a cock for the first time. It's just so nice and thick, nicer than fingers, that Steve's determined to have it all the way inside him. Billy leans forward to wrap his hand in Steve's hair, as if he wasn't already completely dominating him. Steve's forced to move his face out of the pillow.

Steve gasps, clenching down tight around Billy as the boy pushes against that holy spot. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. When Billy pulls a little out and pushes against it again, Steve's vision blurs white. He feels warm tears sliding down his cheeks, and when he hides his face back into the softness of the pillow, it's too late. 

"Aw, you crying, baby?" Billy snickers as he leans forward to nibble at the side of his neck. The nibble starts innocent but then Billy's teeth pierce his skin and- fuck

"D-don't bite me, you animal," he rasps for the first time since they started. His voice is too high pitched to be threatening, and while he can't see Billy's smirk, he can imagine it as another tear trickles down his cheeks. God, it's one thing to have Billy fuck him and another thing to be a blubbering bitch about it.

"Don't worry; I won't tell anyone how I reduced King Steve to a sweet little princess," Billy mocks as he pushes into him and licks his abused neck. Ah, shit, that shouldn't feel so good.   

Then Billy's slowly pulling back again and pushing in. The rhythm is slow, achingly slow, and Steve's shaking from this maddening pace. He just wants Billy to force his face down, until he can't breath, and fuck him so hard that he won't be able to walk. He wants Billy to dominate him in ways that he didn't ever know someone could be dominated. He remembers pictures of girls with their hands tied, and he wonders if Billy would be into that. If he'd want to tie Steve up next time before fucking him. He can bring it up another time, for now, he wants Billy to stop being so slow and gentle. 

"Harder," he whines, words muffled by the pillow. He can feel more tears threatening to spill over, but it's more from the sheer pleasure than the pain. 

"You don't know what your asking for-

"Harder!" 

Billy obliges him by taking him by the hips and speeding up his pace. It's still a little too slow, but there's a steady rhythm to it, and, fuck yes, Steve can't breath. His head is spinning as his thighs clench together. He knows it's pathetic that he can only last for what feels like a couple minutes, but he can't help himself. Not with the way that Billy's fucking his ass so nice and good. Not with the way that his body is screaming from the oxygen deprivation. 

"You gonna cum, princess?" Billy says, sensing his orgasm, and he tugs harder on Steve's hair. "Come on then. Cum all over yourself."

With a helpless shake, he's coming untouched. Steve's coming harder than he's ever come before, and it splatters all over his bed sheets. Billy's pulling his hair so hard that Steve feels tears burning his eyes, and he moans as Billy pulls back and cums all over his ass, marking his territory like the possessive animal that he is. Then he collapses onto Steve, his body hot and heavy and perfect, and kisses the place where he bite Steve. He turns around in Billy's arms and bites his lip in retaliation, not hard enough to draw blood, more like a playful nip.

"Next time we're fucking face to face, so I can watch you cry."

Steve happily buries his nose into the crook of Billy's neck: "Mhm, you're a fucking sociopath, you know that?"

"And you love it."

That's the worst part- he does. 

And Steve doesn't give a fuck what anyone -Nancy or Jonathon- will think of him.