Actions

Work Header

before (i'll break all my rules for you)

Work Text:

The thing is they’d agreed .

They’d talked about it and fucking agreed that they wouldn’t do anything at school. That they’d keep it business as usual. That at school and anywhere around other people, they’d act like they did before , like they hate each others’ guts, like the only physical contact they’d ever desire with the other is violent and hateful rather than passionate and lustful. 

But now here they are, in possibly the most public space possible— the school cafeteria—and Billy’s fucking staring at him. And he won’t fucking stop. 

It’s driving Steve crazy. 

He feels like he’s about to crawl right out of his own skin if he doesn’t storm across the cafeteria immediately and climb into Billy’s lap, right there in front of all their peers. 

Which would obviously not be good. 

This is exactly why they had agreed to keep things the way they were before they started… whatever this is that they’re doing. Because outside of school, outside of all the pressures and expectations from their friends, their families, their teachers, bosses, peers, the whole freaking small town they’re trapped in, they’re insatiable. Can’t keep their hands off each other. 

And that’s bad. 

Because, well, for starters, Steve’s not gay. 

Well, okay, he guesses he must be kinda gay since he’s practically addicted to Billy’s cock, and maybe, just maybe if he’s one too many drinks, might possibly say that he’s in love with the rest of the man that infuriatingly addicting cock is connected to. 

But that just reinforces and proves one of the many reasons why they can’t be open about their relationship. 

Yeah, Steve’s having a sexuality crisis. He doesn’t think he’s like straight-up **hee hee** gay, because he’s still pretty sure that he likes pussy. So he can’t be gay gay, if he still likes girls, right? When he really thinks about it, if he’s forced to put a label on it, he’d say he’s Billy-sexual, because ever since the very first time being with Billy, he's been pretty damn sure he’ll never want to be with anyone else ever again. 

There are so many things that have changed since he and Billy started their….. relationship (?), if that’s what it can be called, that Steve refers to things in his head as “before-Billy” and “after-Billy.”

Before Billy, sure, Steve liked sex. What teenage boy doesn’t? And he’d had his fair share of partners, had done what he’d considered to be adventurous, wild sex things, but boy oh boy, Billy has turned him, not only into a huge fucking homo, but a fucking sex-addicted homo. 

Which, okay, isn’t totally fair, because obviously Billy didn’t “turn” him gay, but sometimes it’s easier to think he did. Sometimes when he gets too caught up in his head, worried about what will happen when everyone finds out that he’s some fucking pansy, it’s easier to blame it all on Billy rather than to accept that this is just who he is. 

Before Billy, he thought about sex a normal amount and didn’t have to worry about popping boners in the middle of the school cafeteria like a fucking 13 year old. Before Billy, he could go about his day regularly without worrying that even just one moment of eye contact could turn him into a puddle of yearning and arousal. Before Billy, he didn’t know that sex could be so good, so all-consuming, so much more than just the physical pleasure. 

Before Billy, he could’ve had a nice, normal lunch period with his friends.

But in this after-Billy world he now lives in, Steve can’t even eat a regular fucking sandwich and sit around a regular fucking table in a loud, regular fucking school cafeteria. 

Now, he can’t focus on anything apart from the heat of Billy’s intense gaze he can feel on the back of his neck, despite turning away from the other boy and doing everything in his power to just carry on like he usually would. 

But he’s forgotten how he lived before Billy. He’s forgotten how he acted or what he thought about or what he talked about before Billy. 

It’s definitely scary how much Billy has changed his entire world, and if the phrase “the Upside Down” didn’t come with such a loaded, triggering backstory, he’d say that Billy’s turned his whole world upside down. 

He should be able to go eight hours during the school day without needing Billy’s touch, but any hopes of that are out the window the second Billy looks at him like that , like how he is right now.

Steve gulps audibly and wipes his palms atop his thighs, trying to calm his racing heart and rejoin his friends’ conversation. 

He tries to think of anything but the growing pool of heat and arousal in his gut simply knowing that Billy’s giving him , not any of the girls around him, that look. 

That look that lets Steve know he’ll be sore every time he sits down tomorrow. 

Deliciously, wonderfully, earth shatteringly sore afterwards. 

That’s another thing that has changed for Steve since Billy came into his life. 

Before Billy, he didn’t think sex should hurt, didn’t know how good pain could feel, how much he’d crave it, how desperate he’d get for Billy to break him so that Billy could put him back together again. 

He chances a glance over his shoulder, trying to appear as casual and inconspicuous as possible, and his eyes immediately land on Billy of course. 

Billy’s surrounded by girls, always surrounded by girls who want a piece of him, so easy for any and all that the legendary Billy Hargrove is willing to give them. 

Hawkins is a small town, and people here love to talk. So when a new family moves to town with a 17-year old son who looks like the embodiment of a greek god, rumors spread—particularly when all the bored teenage and grown women of that small town want said 17-year old. 

Steve’s not dumb, and even before he knew that his hatred of Billy was misplaced attraction, he could tell why all the women of Hawkins were smitten with Billy. He's attractive. Unfairly so. Throw in the added fact that when he first arrived, it seemed like practically every day there was a new rumor about who Billy was bedding that day and the various mind-blowing things he could do to the current girl lucky enough to catch his eye, for however fleetingly. 

Now, of course, Steve knows the truth. 

He knows that “mind-blowing” doesn’t even begin to describe the things Billy can make one feel in bed. He knows that having Billy’s full attention and being the object of his desires is more intoxicating than any liquor could ever be. He knows that when Billy Hargrove wants you, there’s little you can do to resist his pull.

But most importantly, Steve knows one thing the rumors never will: Billy Hargrove doesn’t like girls. 

Even though Steve knows this, knows that Billy only sleeps around to keep his abusive father from knowing his true sexuality; knows that while Billy puts on a hard front which makes all the girls (and Steve) go weak in the knees, he’s really a softie who loves monogamy and loves being in a committed real relationship; knows that even though Billy is somehow only interested in Steve, it still makes his stomach churn with jealousy when he sees all those girls swooning at Billy right now, all willing to throw their best friend and mom under the bus if it gets them closer to a chance to get with Billy. 

He knows it means nothing, but Steve still can’t help the irrational anger bubbling in his gut as he pretends to scan the cafeteria but really just notices how Billy’s got one pretty brunette perched in his lap, another sitting next to him and leaning forward as she talks to show off her cleavage, and some blonde on his other side stroking her fingers up and down his arm. 

He knows that Billy doesn’t want any of them, but he can’t help how angry he gets looking at them right now. 

It doesn't help that Billy looks so good, not that that’s anything out of the ordinary. 

Apparently, now that it’s January, Billy’s traded his denim summer jacket for a leather one, which only serves to make him look like the star of every bad boy themed wet dream. 

His jeans are ungodly tight, and Steve wants to drop to his knees right here to lick and bite or just worship over them. 

The way he’s sitting with his arms over the backs of the surrounding chairs and his legs spread wide reeks of power, and Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent a whimper from escaping. 

His hands curl into fists under the table as he sees one of the girls dip her head down and towards Billy as he leans in and gently tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, whispering something to her that makes her bite her lip and grip his arm as his other arm rubs up and down the back of the girl in his lap. 

It makes Steve’s toes curl and his heart race with jealousy. 

But despite the girls basically dripping off of him, Billy’s staring directly at Steve with this hungry, predatory intensity that makes Steve shiver from across the room just from that one fleeting moment of eye contact. 

This is exactly why they had fucking agreed.  Agreed to not interact at school because they both know fully well that they can’t control themselves around each other. 

And Billy fucking knows what kind of effect a look like that will have on Steve, yet he’s still just staring at him right in the middle of the lunch hour. 

Steve knows he’s acting weird even before he notices his friends around the table shooting him quizzical glances as he tries to act natural and pretend he’s not utterly distracted by the memory of how Billy gagged him last night with his own underwear while he fucked him because he couldn’t stay quiet despite his own parents being just a few doors down. 

If only Billy would stop fucking staring and being so goddamn obvious. 

It’s his fault Steve’s acting weird and his friends are onto him. It’s his fault that Steve has lost all shame and would absolutely bend over this very lunch table and let Billy fuck him in front of everyone if Billy asked, despite all the reasons why they can't come out and why they made this whole “don’t eye fuck me from across the crowded lunchroom” rule, or whatever the rule is, Steve can't think straight **hee hee** when Billy stares at him with such hunger behind his eyes. 

Steve nervously bounces his leg up and down and combs his fingers through his hair a few times, staring down at his half-eaten sandwich and trying to stop blushing ever since he realized he’s starting to get half-hard just from the heat of Billy’s gaze several tables away. 

Before Billy, Steve wasn’t so easy

He knows he needs to stop acting so weird. He knows he needs to join in the conversation. He knows this isn’t how he used to act before Billy, but for the life of him, he can’t figure out how he used to even function before knowing what Billy’s touch feels like. 

He’s being obvious but Billy’s being much more obvious, so it’s his fault, really. 

Steve’s pulled from his incessant worrying by this feeling in his gut—which okay, is creepy that he’s this attuned to Billy— and he glances up to see Billy walking out of the cafeteria, a giggling girl on either arm. 

He looks over and catches Steve’s eye, smirking as Steve openly gawks at him, tacking on a cocky wink once he sees he has Steve’s full attention. 

It’s that wink that does it for him, and without thinking, Steve jumps to his feet, knocking over his chair and causing it to clatter loudly to the floor. 

Steve barely even registers how half the cafeteria turns to look at him as he scrambles to pick it up and mumbles out some excuse about needing to meet with a teacher before rushing out of the cafeteria. 

He forces himself not to run so as not to appear like a maniac as he speed walks in the direction he thinks he saw Billy go. 

He’s not really sure what he thinks is going on between Billy and the girls, nor what his plan is once he finds them. 

Steve knows logically that they’d agreed that Billy should continue flirting with girls and playing up the skirt-chasing playboy image he has, but that doesn’t mean it’s gotten any easier for Steve to see it in the few months they’ve been together. 

Steve stumbles to a stop, breathing heavily from the exertion of his movement and the overwhelming jealousy simmering just under his skin, as he’s confronted with a choice: the left or right hallway. 

He frowns to himself and anxiously runs his fingers through his hair, trying to listen to see if he hears anything from either direction. Part of him is deathly afraid of what exactly he’ll hear, but the larger part of him is afraid that he’s lost them and will have to go back to his friends, pretending nothing’s happened while internally torturing himself with images of what Billy could get up to with those beautiful girls. 

For not the first time in the last few months, Steve has to choke back a sob, balling up his fists as he feels a sick, painful ball of self-hatred curling in his stomach. He hates himself for how much he wants Billy, even though he knows it’s fucked up and knows what would happen to them if people found out. But more so, he hates himself for the fact he isn’t a girl and can’t give Billy the care-free, public relationship he deserves. 

He doesn’t even want to be a girl; he’s very, very happy with being a man, thank you very much. But it’s times like this when he thinks about how much easier things would be if he were a girl. He’d be able to talk to Billy in public, hold his hand in public, fucking kiss him in the school cafeteria, and no one would bat an eye. He hates himself for having to be this dirty secret that Billy keeps while he’s off talking to, flirting with, touching girls who it’d be so much simpler if he were with them instead of Steve.  

He doesn’t want to be a girl, but he wants to be with Billy in every way possible, and being a girl would make that so much easier. 

He hits his fists to his forehead a few times in frustration, squeezing his eyes shut and willing away the tears. The only thing worse than having to hide this thing he has with Billy is if he got caught crying because he has to hide this thing he has with Billy. 

He presses his fists into his closed eyes until he sees stars and then he presses harder. 

Maybe this will make it all go away for just a moment: the constant confusion, the self hatred, the jealousy, the overwhelming need for any contact with Billy. 

He’s still standing there in the middle of the hall with his eyes closed when he feels a hand grip his upper arm tightly and yank him into a room. He’s so surprised and unprepared for it that he allows himself to be pulled, even as panic starts bubbling like acid in his gut. 

When the person standing behind him lets him go, he prepares himself for a fight, an argument, a confrontation at the least. 

But when he slowly turns around, puffing out his chest and schooling his features to present as the confident, cool, popular upperclassman he is, he comes face to face with Billy who's leaning haughtily against a teacher’s desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a devilish grin on his lips. 

All the fight whooshes out of Steve like he’s been punched, and he has to dig his fingernails into his palms harshly enough to draw blood to prevent himself immediately going over to Billy and dropping to his knees right there. 

“Billy!” Steve hisses, hurriedly looking around at their surroundings— an empty classroom— and then noticing the still open door. He rushes over and slams it shut, taking a deep breath before turning back around to face the other boy, staying put by the door to leave a large space between them. 

“What are you doing?” Steve hates how panicked his voice comes out, but they’d agreed not to interact unless they had to at school, and this definitely falls outside the boundaries of “had to.” 

Billy looks completely unconcerned with Steve’s internal turmoil, slowly and pointedly raking his eyes up and down Steve’s body, making Steve stutter in a few breaths of air as he suddenly seems to forget how to breath, all his effort going into staying still and trying to (unsuccessfully) mirror Billy’s unaffected gait. 

Billy lets out a low whistle, his eyes still practically undressing Steve right there, and he pushes off the desk, stalking over to Steve, and never has Steve felt more like prey being hunted down by a predator, and never has he imagined he’d like it so much. 

Billy comes right up into Steve’s space, his breath ghosting against Steve’s cheek as Steve stares straight ahead, frozen except for the way his throat bobs as he gulps nervously. 

“You clean up nice, you know that, Harrington?” Billy’s voice is low and dangerous, and so so hot. 

He reaches a hand up and makes as though to caress Steve’s face, and Steve is powerless to the way he tilts his neck, instinctually yearning to get closer to Billy, to offer himself up to any touch Billy is gracious enough to offer him. 

At the last second before their skin touches, though, Billy diverts his path and instead pulls the blinds on the door’s window shut with a loud snap, and Steve exhales rapidly, feeling his heart pounding as though about to burst right out of his chest. 

Billy then locks the door, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s neck before turning around and going back to the teacher’s desk. 

He plops down in the chair behind it, kicking his feet up onto the desk in an unfairly natural display of power, leaning back in the chair as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. 

“Well come here already, Harrington, we don’t have all day,” Billy sounds bored and he doesn’t even bother looking at Steve as he says it, instead tilting his head back and taking a puff of his cigarette. 

Steve walks over to the desk, his legs feeling like jello as he wipes his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. 

Before Billy, he didn’t get this aroused so quickly. Before Billy, Steve wasn’t so out of control during sex. Before Billy, Steve didn’t even know how good giving up all control and letting someone else take care of you could be. Before Billy, his head didn’t get foggy with want, his entire existence narrowing down until all he is is just a living, breathing extension of his want and need for Billy.

Steve’s breathing comes out erratically as he approaches the desk, and it’s a relief when Billy gives the most minute flick of his cigarette towards the ground, lazily ordering him onto the ground. He falls heavily to his knees, not even wincing at the loud thud he makes when connecting with the hard ground or the sharp ache that shoots through his body at the pain of the fall. 

“God, Stevie, you’re really far down already, aren’t you, my pretty boy?” 

Billy’s voice comes out low, and the way he seems to be in awe of Steve— when everything Billy does seems eons outside of Steve’s league, making Steve feel as if he’s the lucky one having landed Billy rather than the way Billy’s sultry voice seems to imply the other way around— makes Steve squeeze his eyes shut, overwhelmed and embarrassed when a high-pitched whine falls inadvertently from his lips at the way Billy’s words come out as both a praise and a taunt. 

Early on in their… exploration or whatever this thing is, Billy seamlessly changed it from “pretty boy” to “my pretty boy,” and the way that made Steve feel so claimed, so wanted, was frankly embarrassing, which only lead to another self-discovery moment: Steve got fucking hard when Billy embarrassed him or degraded him. That was definitely something he didn’t know about himself before Billy. 

Billy’s feet hit the ground with a quiet thud, and he leans forward in the chair, stroking his fingers through Steve’s hair, causing Steve to mewl pathetically at the gentleness of his touch in such stark juxtaposition to the immense humiliation and worthlessness Steve feels, still months later not entirely used to how desperate he gets for Billy and still feeling pathetic for how upset he got about seeing Billy with those girls. 

“My sweet, sweet boy,” Billy murmurs, and Steve lets out a sob, pressing his face to the inside of Billy’s thigh, rubbing his cheek against the rough material of his jeans and inhaling deeply the intoxicating scent which is distinctly Billy.

Normally, Billy wouldn’t allow Steve to move like this, to choose where he positions his body— which Billy will remind him during a punishment is his only, only Billy’s to move and use as he pleases, not Steve's— but he must be able to sense how distraught Steve is right now, so he lets Steve kneel there, carding his fingers through Steve’s hair and scratching soothingly at his scalp while Steve presses his face against Billy’s thigh, needing to feel grounded by Billy’s scent and hiding how embarrassed he is by how quickly he went down into subspace right here at school during the freaking lunch hour. 

“What’s going on, baby?” Billy murmurs, never pausing the hand in Steve’s hair. They both know that when Steve gets like this, he needs constant physical contact in order to feel grounded, to prevent him from floating away into the clouds and getting lost from Billy. 

Steve sighs and just nuzzles closer, not wanting to admit why he’s upset and not wanting to move from the comforting lull of silence in his head that’s brought around by this position on his knees at Billy’s feet. 

He doesn’t know how long he just sits there, breathing heavily and ignoring Billy’s question, but it must be too long because Billy’s fingers in his hair suddenly turn from gentle to biting as he grips Steve’s hair harshly and tugs his head up until Steve’s neck aches from the force of having to tilt his head up and look at Billy. 

He feels his cheeks flush with heat as he knows he’s disappointed Billy, and he almost wants to cry when he feels himself getting hard in his jeans, right here at his school in some random classroom anyone could walk into at any moment, simply because he’s embarrassed at how awful and belittled he feels for disappointing Billy. 

“Harrington! I asked you a fucking question.” Billy doesn’t raise his voice but the quiet, controlled tone cuts into Steve like a knife. Plus, the fact that he’s using Steve’s last name rather than any terms of endearment means he’s in trouble. 

“ ‘S nothing,” Steve mumbles, shame washing over him in waves until he’s practically suffocating with it. He’s being stupid, and he’s worried Billy for no reason. 

Billy tugs harshly at Steve’s hair, and it hurts in his scalp where he feels the tug, in his neck when he’s forced to look up even further, but it’s that pain that makes Steve whimper and claw at his own thighs, trying desperately not to palm at his half-hard dick. 

“Don’t lie to me, Steve. I fucking hate liars, and you know what happens when you lie to me.”

In a way, it’s almost a relief for Steve, having this harsh, mean Billy back, because he knows what to do with him. He doesn’t know what to do with the soft, caring Billy who was just petting his hair and sounding genuinely worried about Steve. 

No, this mean, cold Billy he can deal with. This is what Steve knows. 

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles, his mouth suddenly dry with arousal. 

“Sorry,” he repeats, rolling the word around on his tongue a moment before whispering it a few more times, almost reverentially like a prayer while he’s here on his knees begging for forgiveness. 

He takes a deep breath to try to clear some of the enticing fuzziness creeping into the corners of his mind before answering. 

“Didn’t like seeing you with those other girls.”

He blushes at the admittance, sure that this was all just part of Billy’s plan and he’s playing right into his hands. 

To his surprise, though, he sees a moment of shock flutter across Billy’s face before he quickly retains control and schools his features. 

A wide, predatory smirk grows on Billy’s face, and he leans down to stroke the fingers of his hand not in Steve’s hair down his cheek, along his jaw, and dancing lightly over Steve’s parted lips, making Steve pant harder and his heart race faster. 

“Is that so, baby?”

Billy is much too smug, and Steve feels himself leaking in his pants, knowing that that tone of voice can only mean things are going to get so, so much better from here. 

“Was my pretty boy jealous?” Billy taunts, and Steve’s too out of it to fight his embarrassment, instead just letting it course through him as he nods his head rapidly, staring up at Billy with wide eyes as Steve’s whole body trembles with desire. 

“I bet…” Billy starts slowly, his fingers still trailing across Steve’s jaw. “I bet you wanted that to be you, hmm?”

He cocks an eyebrow down at Steve, and Steve whimpers, nodding his head in one curt movement, all the allowance he’ll give Billy on this, but it’s enough. 

Billy smiles cruelly, and it makes Steve’s heart do somersaults, something about Billy looking at him like that , like he’s about to eat Steve alive driving Steve absolutely crazy. 

Suddenly he shoves his thumb into Steve’s slightly open mouth harshly, and Steve’s eyes widen with surprise before he automatically closes his lips and starts sucking on the digit. 

Billy removes the hand in Steve’s hair, but Steve stays frozen, watching as Billy uses that free hand to palm himself over his tight jeans. Steve sucks even more hungrily as he watches, completely entranced and aching with the desire to be the one touching Billy like that. 

“You wanted to be those girls, hmm, baby? It's okay, you don’t need to answer, I know it’s true. You wanted to be the one sitting in my lap in front of the whole school. Wanted me to touch you like I was touching those girls while everyone watched, huh, is that it, baby?”

Steve hollows our his cheeks and sucks harder, putting all his confusing thoughts and feelings he can’t make sense of into his actions, because even if his mind doesn’t make any sense, being here on his knees for Billy sure does. 

Billy pulls out his thumb, making Steve whimper with the loss, before hastily shoving his pointer and middle finger into Steve’s mouth, almost choking him with how harshly he shoves in. He uses that thumb to hook under Steve’s jaw and slowly turn his head side to side, inspecting Steve as he sucks desperately on his fingers. 

“That’s it, then,” Billy murmurs, as if more to himself than anything. His eyes snap up from where they’ve been fixated on Steve’s lips so that he meets Steve’s wife, lust-blown eyes.  “You wanna be my girl.” 

He doesn’t ask it, he simply states it as a fact, and it’s something about that that does it for Steve. 

It’s not even true. He doesn’t want to be Billy’s girl, he’s more than happy being his boy, thank you very much. He likes everything about himself that makes him a boy, but the way Billy says it, as if there’s no argument, and the way Billy is staring down at Steve makes Steve, in that moment, believe that he does want to be Billy’s girl. 

Billy stares down at him triumphantly, fucking his fingers into his mouth like he would if he were prepping Steve, opening him up. 

“You like that, hmm, you dirty little girl. You probably wish I were fucking your ass, rather than your mouth,” Billy taunts, still sounding slightly bored despite the fact he’s still palming at his crotch and Steve can clearly see the full implications of his arousal. “Or maybe you wish I were finger fucking your pussy instead, huh?” 

Steve whimpers, his eyes fluttering closed as he lets the words hit him hard, his breathing getting erratic the quicker and harder Billy fucks his two fingers into Steve’s throat. 

“Is that it, baby?” Billy’s voice is suddenly much closer, his breath hitting Steve’s cheek, making Steve’s eyes fly open and meeting Billy’s piercing, blue eyes only mere inches from his own. 

“Well,” Billy says with finitely, suddenly withdrawing his fingers from Steve’s mouth and gripping his hair too tightly again. “If you want to be my pretty girl, you’ll need to prove it to me.”

Steve’s panting loudly, but he nods quickly, desperate for whatever Billy has planned. 

“Undo my pants,” Billy orders, and Steve scrambles onto his knees, fumbling to undo Billy’s button and zipper. 

He feels tears of frustration and embarrassment come to his eyes as his hands shake so badly that he struggles with even this simple task. 

Billy tsks from above him, his voice dripping with disappointment. 

“Look at you. Can’t even do the one thing I ask you. And here I was thinking I was being so generous letting my pretty girl have my cock, but apparently she doesn’t want it enough to follow directions.” 

Billy sounds genuinely disappointed in Steve, and it makes both his eyes prickle with tears of frustration and his cock leak from the humiliation of it all. 

“Oh, baby,” Billy murmurs, swiping his thumb under Steve’s eyes to catch his tears. “Haven’t even gotten my cock in you yet, and you’re already crying. You’re just that desperate to show me how much of a good girl you are, huh?” 

The way Billy phrases everything like a question makes everything he says sound patronizing and degrading, like he’s forcing Steve to agree with everything he says even as he leaves no room for disagreement. 

And it makes Steve fucking dizzy with arousal. 

“Look at me, baby.”

Steve snaps his head up at Billy, his hands freezing where they are in Billy’s lap. 

“Fuck,” Billy breathes out, cupping Steve’s cheek with one hand. “You’re so beautiful.”

Steve preens under his words, blushing and inadvertently trying to look down at the ground to hide how affected he is at Billy’s words. 

“Uh-uh-uh,” Billy taunts, gripping Steve’s jaw and digging his fingers in both sides of his face harshly as he forces Steve’s head back up. “I said to look at me, slut.”

Steve opens and closes his fists where they hang limply at his sides, digging his nails into his palms to savor the stinging pain as he tries to clear his head enough to focus on Billy’s orders. 

“I’ll help you, just this once, if you really want to prove to me how much of a good girl my pretty baby can be.”

Steve blushes even deeper, which he didn’t even realize was possible considering he’s been one flushing, red mess since Billy yanked him into this classroom. 

“But only because I’m so nice and know how much my pretty girl needs my cock, hmm. Even at school, in some classroom where anyone could walk by and know that she’s on her knees for me, begging me to stick my cock in her pussy.”

Before Billy, Steve didn’t get dirty talk. Never engaged in it when he was fucking a girl. Never got off on a girl saying things to him while in bed. Never understood the appeal of it from the pornos he and his friends would sometimes sneakily watch. 

But Billy’s dirty talk makes Steve lose his fucking mind, makes his skin crawl with need, makes him so hard he feels like he might die if he doesn’t get any relief. 

“Answer me, Harrington,” Billy’s quiet voice cuts through the air like a knife, and the ache it arises in his groin makes him gasp out loudly. 

Please ,” Steve whispers, his voice cracking on that one word as he puts all his confusing emotions into that one single beg. 

“Good girl,” Billy smirks down at him, patting his cheek patronizingly before he reaches down and deftly undoes his pants, making Steve’s previous struggle seem even more pathetic and embarrassing when he does the same thing but with such ease. 

Billy pulls his hard cock out of his pants, lazily tugging at it a few times, pulling the foreskin down on each downstroke so the head pokes out, and Steve’s so far gone he doesn’t even think to be embarrassed by the fact his dry mouth starts watering at that sight. 

“Oh, do you want this?” Billy teases, as if he didn’t get his cock out with the sole intention of letting Steve have it. 

Please, Billy ,” Steve whimpers, and it’s a sure sign he’s under when the only comprehensible words he can articulate are either begging and Billy’s name. 

“So pretty when you’re desperate for me, baby girl.”

Billy gives his cock a few more tugs before he lets go of it, Steve groaning at the image of how hard Billy is that his cock slaps up against his chiseled abs that Steve knows are hiding behind his thin white wife beater. 

Billy reaches forward and gently tucks a longer strand of Steve’s hair behind his ear, eerily reminiscent of something he did earlier with one of those girls that shad ent Steve spiraling down this tunnel of desperation. 

“Alright, pretty girl, why don’t you show me how much you want me? How much more you want me than all the other girls do. Show me that my girl is the best of them, and then maybe I’ll play with your pussy a bit.”

Steve whimpers, biting down on his bottom lip hard, automatically clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward, mouth open ready to take Billy’s cock. 

Billy’s hand is in his hair suddenly, holding Steve just over his cock, and Steve whines, unsure what he did or why Billy stopped him. 

“Ahh, I know you’re impatient for my cock,” Billy chastises, his voice dripping with saccharine-sweet fake concern as he chuckles mockingly at Steve. “But if you really want to be my good girl, you’ve gotta make me come before fifth period starts and a class needs to use this room. Only got fifteen minutes, baby.”

Billy’s eyes narrow and he smirks devilishly down at Steve, looking unfairly gorgeous even—maybe especially— with his cock out. 

“Unless, of course, my good girl wants to show everyone who walks in how good she is at taking cock. Up to you, darling, but we’re not leaving this room until you make me come, so you choose who gets to see you with my cock in your mouth.”

With that, he settles back against the chair, spreading his legs wider to accommodate Steve’s position between his thighs and resting his arms on the chair’s armrests, reeking of power and domination. 

Steve licks his lips, glancing up one more time at Billy before looking back to his cock. His whole body is trembling with how tightly strung Billy’s got him, and he whimpers as he thinks about the fact that they’re really doing this in a classroom when the next class starts so soon. 

They locked the door, but anyone could walk past and hear Steve begging for or choking on Billy’s cock, could hear Billy’s taunting words and how much they affect Steve. It’s so much, almost too much, and Steve’s head feels so full of worries—What if someone catches them? What if he’s too worked up to make it good enough for Billy? What if this whole thing isn’t Billy trying to give Steve what he wants but rather Billy playing out his own fantasies of Steve being a girl?— it’s too much, so he leans forward and takes Billy into his mouth, swallowing him down as far as he can on the first go, because he knows it’s the only thing he knows that will quiet the worries pounding in his brain. 

Billy hisses as his cock is enveloped in Steve’s warm, wet mouth, and both his hands suddenly grip into Steve’s hair so tightly that it hurts, the pain shooting warmth through Steve’s spine straight down to his cock. 

They’re on the clock, and he’s already so close to floating off into subspace, so he grips his wrists tighter behind his back and immediately starts bobbing up and down quickly on Billy’s cock, squeezing his eyes shut as tears well up in his eyes from the constant gagging as he forces Billy’s cock further down his throat with each up-down motion. 

His throat contracts as he tries taking Billy deeper, and he panics for a moment as he chokes, his eyes flying open as he struggles to breathe. 

Billy’s grip tightens even further, if possible, in his hair, and he pushes Steve down further, despite—or maybe because of— his near constant whimpers and very obvious struggle to get Billy all the way down his throat. 

For a moment, he struggles against Billy’s hands in his hair, feeling desperate as he fights to pull off, fighting for a real deep breath rather than the shallow breathes he can only pull through his runny nose. 

“Shh,” Billy’s quiet purr cuts through the panic, and once again, Billy’s all his sex-drunk mind can think of, his own problems and worries seeping into the comforting fog of everything else that isn’t Billy. “Come on, darling, know you can do it. Show me how good my pretty girl is with her mouth.”

Steve glances up at Billy, his eyelashes— sticky with the tears collecting there— fluttering as he feels a dull ache starting to grow in his jaw as he continues working his mouth over Billy’s cock, sucking in and hollowing out his cheeks as he moves his head, whimpering and feeling a sharp, tingling warmth where he’s painfully hard in his pants. 

He watches Billy’s adam’s apple bob, his jaw clench, his nostrils flare, as he slowly starts fucking up shallowly into Steve’s mouth, holding Steve’s head still as he begins increasing the speed and intensity he fucks into his mouth. 

Steve closes his eyes, feeling more relaxed than he has all day, humming contentedly around Billy’s cock as Billy finally finds the necessary buttons to push to turn off Steve’s naturally tightly-wound, people-pleasing tendencies. 

Before Billy, he never could have imagined he’d find complete bliss in a cock being forced down his throat. 

There are a lot of things about Steve Harrington he himself didn’t know before Billy Hargrove walked right into his life and changed everything. 

As Billy fucks into Steve’s mouth, he mumbles a continuous string of praises—things like “fuck, look at you, darling, so fucking pretty, my pretty girl”— and even though Steve leans into the soft fluttering in his chest those words cause, he doesn’t know why Billy says them.

He can’t imagine he looks pretty right now, with tears running down his face, his nose running fairly steadily, slobber drying on his cheeks as he chokes on Billy’s cock. He can’t imagine that he’s as pretty as the girls who constantly surround Billy, but even though Steve doesn’t understand it, he knows that at least Billy really believes the things he’s saying, even if they’re incomprehensible to Steve. 

Steve lets himself be used as Billy, letting Billy take control as he snaps his hips up punishingly into Steve’s awaiting mouth. On one particularly brutal thrust, he pushes his hips so far up they come off the chair slightly, and he shoves Steve all the way down on his cock so that Steve’s nose is buried in the dark, coarse hairs at the bottom of Billy’s shaft. Steve doesn’t mean to, but his hands fly out from behind his back and grip tight onto Billy’s thighs, his body instinctually fighting to pull off and gasp for breath. 

Billy doesn’t let him up, though, holding him right there as he fucks shallowly up, leaving Steve held down with his cock almost entirely in Steve’s mouth. 

After a few dizzying moments, Steve stops fighting and relaxes into it, his whole existence feeling narrowed down to where his nipples achingly rub against his shirt, his cock twitches and spurts precome into his pants, and the taste of Billy’s release floods into his mouth.  He closes his eyes and sucks, milking Billy’s orgasm all he can, greedily swallowing everything Billy spills into his mouth, feeling dirty for wanting more , for liking the taste of Billy so much it makes his whole body ache with arousal. 

Finally, Billy pulls him off his cock, and Steve doesn’t even think about it as he whines and tries to fight his way out of Billy’s tight grip to get his cock back in his mouth, already missing the distinctly masculine taste of Billy. 

Billy chuckles, low and dark, at Steve’s desperation as he holds him out at arms length, quickly detracting one hand from Steve’s hair to tuck himself back into his pants. 

“Fuck, Stevie, your mouth…” he trails off and chuckles again as he shakes his head in disbelief, making Steve squirm and blush.  “Jesus, you’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs as he leans back in his chair to just gaze at Steve. 

Steve feels suddenly self-conscious, aware of how gross he must look covered in tears, snot, cum. He moves his hands up to wipe at his face, but Billy’s faster and grabs his wrists sharply, tugging Steve forward as he leans forward until their faces are mere centimeters apart. Steve stares into Billy’s narrowed eyes, hearing himself breathing heavily as if from outside his own body. 

“None of that,” Billy orders, his tongue flicking out to swipe across his bottom lip, and Steve’s eyes immediately narrow into that movement.

Billy smirks, seeing how much that minor movement affected Steve, and his eyes flick down to Steve’s swollen lips, parted as he gasps in each breath, his body not quite having caught up to his mind yet that he’s okay, no longer struggling to breathe, his airways no longer restricted. 

“You did good, Harrington,” Billy murmurs, condescendingly patting his cheek as his eyes rake across Steve’s face, and Steve honestly could combust right here with how hot and flushed he’s been for so long, most of the things Billy says or does making him blush. 

Billy glances over at the wall hanging on the wall, and Steve whimpers as he’s presented with Billy’s profile: his jawline sharp, his cheekbones so defined, his long curls swaying as he moves. 

“We’ve got five minutes until lunch ends,” Billy muses, still looking at the clock and driving Steve absolutely crazy with the nonchalant way he ignores Steve. 

“Think that leaves us enough time for me to play with your pussy, hmm?”

He raises an eyebrow at Steve, and Steve nibbles on his bottom lip, barely breathing as he waits for Billy’s next order.  Billy lets go of Steve’s wrists, and Steve falls back slightly, not having realized how much he was depending on Billy for support. Billy pushes himself up from the chair and stalks around the desk, glancing over his shoulder and narrowing his eyes in mock-irritation as he sees Steve’s exactly where he left him. 

“Well get up, slut,” he orders. “And get over here.”

Steve stumbles in his rush to get up, almost tripping as pinpoints of feeling rushes into his legs after having been kneeling for an extended period of time. 

He hurries over to stand next to Billy, and Billy harshly shoves his chest onto the teacher’s desk, bending Steve over and pressing his hips against Steve’s ass. Even though Billy’s soft— having just come— the position drives Steve crazy, and he scrambles to reach up and grip the other side of the desk to provide himself some stability and grounding. 

“Alright, baby,” Billy hums out as he teasingly strokes up and down the outsides of Steve’s thighs. “I’ll give you what you want, but if you don’t come before lunch ends, you’re not coming at all today.” 

Steve whimpers but nods his head quickly, pressing his cheek against the cool wood of the desk, offering himself up for Billy’s liking. 

“Good girl,” Billy murmurs, his words and tone so gentle in comparison to how abruptly and harshly he undoes and tugs Steve’s jeans down until his ass is bare.  Steve inhales sharply as he realizes the full extent of what they’re doing; that he’s half-naked in a classroom which people are going to start coming into in just a couple minutes.

It’s so insanely naughty, so desperate, so filthy, and he hates how much he loves that. 

Billy stands behind him, and Steve can feel the front of his thighs pressed up against the backs of Steve’s, and it’s comforting, knowing that Billy’s just right there, that despite all the big talk, he’s there to take care of Steve. 

Steve shivers as he feels Billy’s calloused hands pull his cheeks apart, exposing his most vulnerable, private part to the cool air of the classroom.  He gasps as Billy spits right onto his hole, and he can’t help the way he clenches as if to pull the spit inside himself. 

Suddenly Billy lands a sharp slap against one of his asscheeks, and Steve fucking mewls, arching his back and presenting his ass for more. 

“So naughty,” Billy tsks, rubbing the heated skin he had just hit. “Fuck, if we had more time, I’d spank you so good you’d come.”

Steve whimpers and rubs his cheek against the desk, trying to bring himself back to his body and gain some sort of control over the whiny sounds falling from his lips. 

“Next time,” Billy promises. 

Steve jumps slightly as a finger, wet with Billy’s own spit, circles around his rim teasingly, and Steve pushes back, trying to convey how much he needs Billy to be inside him already. 

“You think you can come just from me fingering your pussy in the next three minutes, pretty girl?”

Steve nods rapidly, squeezing his eyes shut as Billy pushes in that first finger quickly and fluidly up to the last knuckle in one go. 

“Fuck, baby, your pussy is so tight,” Billy mumbles as he fucks aggressively into Steve, quickly adding a second finger. 

“Don’t even know if I’ll be able to get all my fingers in you, you’re so tight.”

Please ,” Steve begs, feeling crazy at the thought of not getting more , the thought of having to come untouched with only two of Billy’s fingers in him making him push his hips back harder and quicker as he squirms desperately wanting Billy to find that sweet spot inside him that makes him scream.

"Well, since you beg so pretty,” Billy says, right before he pulls out completely, spitting a couple more times on Steve’s exposed hole before pressing three fingers back into him. 

Steve’s hands ache from how tightly he’s gripping onto the desk, but he ignores it as he uses his grip for leverage to fuck his hips back onto Billy’s fingers, groaning and whimpering with the way it hurts.  He’s not stretched out enough to take three fingers, and the lack of real lube makes the stretch burn awfully. 

It’s almost too much, but that’s exactly where Steve and Billy’s relationship thrives: right at the brink of “too much.” 

“Shh, baby, you’re being so loud,” Billy reprimands him, smoothing his other hand soothingly against Steve’s lower back. 

Steve hadn’t even been aware of how loud he was being, but he’s suddenly very aware that he was on the verge of screaming while getting fingered on a teacher’s desk with only moments before the halls are flooded with students headed to their next class. 

“Doing so well, baby girl, you’re so close, I know it.”

Billy kicks at Steve’s ankles until he spreads his legs further, as far as he can until his jeans restrict any further movement. He  twists and scissors his fingers into Steve’s abused hole as he leans forward, pressing his chest to Steve’s back and laying open-mouthed kisses along Steve’s neck. 

It’s so much, too much, but not enough, and Steve’s desperate for more. 

“Come on, pretty girl, come for me. Just from my fingers. Show me how good you can be for me,” Billy presses the words into Steve’s skin, and he whimpers, wanting to be good for Billy, wanting to prove to Billy that he can be better, give him so much more, than any of those Hawkins girls or women can. 

Billy snakes his unoccupied arm under Steve’s chest, pinching at his nipples through his shirt, and it makes Steve’s whole body spasm as he feels himself hurtling towards orgasm, warmth spreading from his fingers to his toes, the pressure in his nipples and hard cock almost enough to send him over the edge, but not quite. 

“Billy,” he grits out, gasping out as Billy shoves his fingers all the way into Steve and rubs over his spot. “Can’t, Billy. Need you to touch me.” 

“I am touching you,” Billy teases, drawing his fingers almost all the way out before fucking in so harshly the room is filled with the squelching sound of Billy’s spit-lube. 

“You know what I mean,” Steve pants out, trying to look back at Billy but completely caged in by the other boy’s body atop his. 

“Yeah, I do,” Billy concedes. “But I know you can do it. Come on, Stevie. You’re almost there. For me. Do it for me.”

“Can’t,” Steve huffs out in frustration, dropping his forehead against the desk and whimpering out at how close he is but knowing it’s just not going to happen like this. 

“Here, I’ll help you,” Billy whispers into his ear, biting down momentarily on his earlobe before speaking again. “Only because you looked so pretty on your knees for me and sound so pretty right now with me fingering your pussy.” 

But instead of reaching down for Steve’s aching cock, Billy reaches his hand up from Steve’s nipples until he’s loosely gripping Steve’s throat. 

It takes Steve a moment to understand, and when he does, he practically screams out a too high-pitched, “PLEASE, BILLY!”

“Anything for you, Stevie,” Billy bites down on the back of his neck just as he closes his fingers around the front of Steve’s neck, pressing down and momentarily blocking off his airways. 

That’s all it takes and Steve’s coming, so hard and with his dick completely untouched this whole time, arching back and pressing his body as close as possible to Billy’s as he shakes and moans his way through his orgasm.

He feels like he’s coming for ages, his whole body alight with overwhelming pleasure, and the only thing he actually knows is that Billy’s right there with him the whole time, working him through it, his fingers still pressing against his prostate as he murmurs praises and presses kisses into Steve’s overheated, sensitive skin.

Steve floats for a moment, completely worry-free and only aware of how light and good his entire body feels. 

He allows his body to be maneuvered by Billy as Billy tugs his pants back up and gently brings Steve down to sit with his back against the desk. 

Steve smiles dopily up at Billy as Billy strokes Steve’s cheek with one hand, always maintaining physical contact, and wipes up Steve’s release from the side of the desk. 

When Billy tries tugging Steve up, Steve stumbles and needs Billy to catch him before he faceplants and hurts himself. 

“Careful, baby,” Billy warns, wrapping Steve in his strong arms and allowing Steve to hunch over to make himself shorter than Billy and nuzzle into his warm embrace. “Don't want to mess up my girl's pretty face.”

“Boy,” Steve mumbles as he comes back to himself slightly.

“Hmm?” Billy leans back slightly and cups Steve’s cheeks in his hands, staring into his eyes. 

“‘M your pretty boy,” Steve mumbles, feeling exhausted and still spacey. 

“Okay,” Billy smiles softly at him, not his usual cocky one he wears around the school or the wicked one he uses during their scenes. No, this smile is reserved for after, after they’ve both come and Steve is needy and cuddly and wants to be held. And Billy does whatever Steve needs him to, always there to bring Steve back and make sure he’s okay. 

“We gotta go, Stevie. People are gonna need to use this room.” 

Steve frowns, too tired to fully comprehend what Billy’s saying but lucid enough that he knows that if they leave the room, they’ll have to stop touching, and that’s the last thing he wants. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Billy reassures him, swiping some of Steve’s hair off his sweaty forehead. 

“I’ve got you,” he repeats, and Steve fully trusts him is the thing. 

It’s kind of funny that only a few months ago, they hated each other’s guts, that they almost killed each other in a fistfight. Yet now Steve trusts Billy with his entire being. Trusts Billy to take care of him right now and for the rest of his life. 

“You’re shaking, baby,” Billy frowns as he rubs his hands up and down Steve’s arms, trying to warm him. He shrugs off his leather jacket and manipulates Steve’s pliant arms into it, straightening the collar and stepping back to admire Steve, a small smile dazzling his already dazzling facial features. 

Steve’s not entirely sure how they get out of the classroom or the school, still pretty far down, but next thing he realizes, they’re in the back of Billy’s car, Steve lying curled against Billy’s chest as Billy trails random patterns atop his skin, placing soft kisses to any where he can reach without jostling Steve. 

He’s much more awake and present when he comes to this time, and he blinks several times, getting adjusted to the sun streaming into the car. 

He looks around and sees that they’re parked in some abandoned parking lot, and he frowns slightly as he realizes how much time he must've lost, but he’s still feeling relaxed enough to not let himself fret about that too much. 

“Hi, baby,” Billy’s voice is soft and his breath tickles Steve’s forehead. 

Billy’s long hair frames Steve’s face in a makeshift little private curtain as he leans forward to kiss Steve’s forehead, making Steve smile as he tugs Billy’s leather jacket he’s still wearing tighter around him and snuggles closer to Billy, making himself as small as possible so he can be held better. 

“You with me?”

It’s nice having Billy in these moments, seeing him so gentle and caring. Steve knows he’s the only person who gets to see the real Billy that comes out only when it’s just the two of them, and that makes all the hiding and secrets when they’re in public worth it. 

Steve nods, yawning a moment before saying, “We left school?”

He blushes as Billy’s grip on him tightens, both clearly noticing how wrecked Steve’s voice sounds from their previous activities. 

“Yeah, you weren’t in any shape to go to class.” 

Steve nods again, closing his eyes as he nuzzles against Billy’s chest, smiling softly when he hears Billy’s subsequent chuckle. 

“If you’re up for it, wanna go grab something to eat? I’m fucking starving,” Billy murmurs into the top of Steve’s hair, and Steve feels cherished, feels special in this moment with Billy’s arms around him and his tone so soft and full of love only directed to Steve. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, tugging Billy’s arms back around him when Billy makes a move to get up.

“You gotta get off me then,” Billy teases, digging his fingers into Steve’s sides to tickle him. 

“Okay,” Steve mumbles again, reaching down to intertwine their fingers, lifting their hands up to his eye-level so he can look at where they're joined. 

Billy chuckles again and stops trying to get up, squeezing their hands and tightening his arms around Steve’s waist.

“Okay,” Billy whispers, kissing him once more on the top of his head. 

Steve blushes. Before Billy, he didn’t know what it felt like to be loved. And though they haven’t actually said it yet, their actions say more than their words ever could. 

So even though they had agreed not to let their relationship get in the way of their regular lives before, meaning they shouldn’t skip class to cuddle in the backseat of Billy’s car after having intense sex on a random teacher’s desk, Steve sinks into Billy’s tight embrace and allows himself to be held just a little longer before they go back into the real world.