Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13790610.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Stranger_Things_(TV_2016)
  Relationship:
      Billy_Hargrove/Steve_Harrington
  Character:
      Billy_Hargrove, Steve_Harrington
  Additional Tags:
      Porn_with_Feelings, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Explicit_Language, Anal
      Fingering, Anal_Sex, Established_Relationship, Implied/Referenced_Child
      Abuse, Verse!Boys, Bottom_Billy_Hargrove, Top_Steve_Harrington, Crying,
      mentions_of_switching
  Series:
      Part 1 of harringrove_one_shots_&_drabbles
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-25 Words: 10294
****** lights down low ******
by animemouth
Summary
     billy slips into steve’s bedroom between ten and eleven most of the
     nights he manages to sneak out. it’s just after neil’s gone to sleep
     or at least when he’s tired of ragging on him about something that
     isn’t even his fault. when neil’s really in a mood, other than the
     slew of verbal beratement, sometimes he’ll receive a firm knock to
     the back of the head, a shove into the wall or a calloused hand
     tightly gripping his neck, too. all things he gets for a good night,
     sweet dreams most nights, up until he’s at the harringtons' place.
     or: billy always comes to steve's place after a rough night or even a
     relatively good night. he's had to stay away for a few nights after
     being caught sneaking out, but lucky for him, an opportunity presents
     himself.
Notes
     hello and welcome to my first (real) harringrove fic! there are so
     many wonderfully creative people in this fanbase that i felt a mighty
     need to contribute something to simply to say thanks!
     there's also mention of the boys being verse throughout the fic -
     that's just what i prefer/headcanon - but the actual sex that occurs
     features bottom!billy/top!steve. also underage, just because billy is
     still seventeen here!
     (i'm also much more an artist than i am a writer but i had such a
     mighty need to write porn with feelings! any mistakes are mine - i
     always edit before i post but always find things to fix later on.)
See the end of the work for more notes
billy slips into steve’s bedroom between ten and eleven most of the nights he
manages to sneak out. it’s just after neil’s gone to sleep or at least when
he’s tired of ragging on him about something that isn’t even his fault. when
neil’s really in a mood, other than the slew of verbal beratement, sometimes
he’ll receive a firm knock to the back of the head, a shove into the wall or a
calloused hand tightly gripping his neck, too. all things he gets for a good
night, sweet dreamsmost nights, up until he’s at the harringtons' place.
tonight he’s got a big a bruise on his lower back from where he got pushed into
the kitchen counter for breaking one of susan’s painted mugs. it’d fallen out
and shattered to the floor that evening when he went to fix max some hot
chocolate. honestly, it wasn’t evenhis fault that it’d been placed on the very
edge of the shelf inside the cabinet -- he hadn’t put the dishes away last or
even opened said cabinet since the previous morning. technically it was his
father’s fault, but god forbid he say that and live.
there’s also a bruise the shape of neil’s hand on wrist, where he’d gotten his
arm twisted around simply for letting a but max slip out that morning. his
father had been in too much of a sour mood lately to let only words express his
disdain for his son.
the past three nights he hasn’t been able to sneak out. he’d tripped out of his
window with a crash a few nights ago and neil, who’d surprisingly been awake
late that night, heard him and pulled him back inside by the back of his
collar, got close in his face and cornered him against his bookcase. he’d
muttered out a string of quiet, violent threats as to not wake up susan or max.
he’d seen steve in the halls the next day and avoided eye contact at all costs
until they were pretty much alone in the parking lot.
max hopped into the passenger side and he leaned over the roof of the car to
catch steve’s eye. the other boy looked hopeful, eyebrows raised as he
hesitated in front of the driver’s side door. “can’t hang out for a bit,” he’d
said, trying to be as nonchalant and unsuspecting as possible, “got some stuff
to do.”
his step sister only suspected budding friendship, that what he meant was no
drinking or smoking together for a few nights, so she was allowed to hear.
steve had nodded because he understood, even as he still watched and waited
like he expected billy to say something more. he didn’t and steve clamored into
his car, not looking back as he sped out of the parking lot.
now it’s different -- a few nights later and billy can almost taste the
freedom. his father has something to do for work out in indianapolis for two
nights, which is a rare occurrence as neil’s job doesn’t require much travel at
all. it’s his pure dumb luck since susan’s going with him too, to do some
sight-seeing. neil isn’t leaving until the morning, though, so he can only pop
in for a handful of hours.
on the drive over, electricity buzzes under his skin in anticipation. his
throat feels tight and his back throbs the whole drive over, plus he’s nearly
chewed his bottom lip bloody between cigarettes. he knows the instant he’s
inside that steve’s going to be on him - he’ll get one look and there’s no
chance of distraction until steve’s done his own gentle version of tending to
his wounds.
once he parks down the street from steve’s place he takes a minute to try and
compose himself. he thinks to two fridays back when both of them were in an
absolutely desperate mood. they’d been dancing around each other all day,
shoving and grunting during a gym scrimmage and sending each other heated looks
in passing in the hallway.
billy had walked up to the front door that night, hadn't climbed up to the
window because he knew steve’s parents weren't there. he couldn’t be bothered
to climb, not that night, and tapped once, twice, and steve came to the door
still dressed in his school clothes. billy had barely been able to set down his
keys in that little porcelain dish perched near the front door before steve was
tugging him into the living room by his shirt collar, biting his bottom lip and
breathing into his mouth.
he’d fucked steve twice that night. the first round both of them still had most
of their clothing on and steve sat on his lap on the sofa, sweat beading at his
hairline and his cock leaking against his tummy, billy hitting his sweet spot
in a constant assault. the second round took place on the kitchen counter, a
few minutes later after steve had gone to get a glass of water. the blond had
dug his fingernails into the meat of steve’s pale hips while he bit his neck
and fucked him roughly from behind. steve had keened and moaned, gripped the
cool marble desperately as he let billy pin him down, let him jerk him off
quickly and dribble all over his fist and the edge of the counter. steve could
barely hold himself up after that.
even with steve’s parents gone tonight, he shimmies up to the window like he
usually does. tonight, the mood is much too different to come to the front door
acting all charming and suave. it’s not like that night two weeks ago,
desperate and hungry. now, no matter how badly he wants to fuck steve or have
steve fuck him - he’s not picky, honestly - he aches deep down in the cavern of
his chest. it’d been one of those days where he was exhaustedand defeated
feeling, only made worse by the new bruises and threat he received about
leaving max alone while neil and susan were out of town.
at least early may in hawkins isn’t as damn cold as he thought it’d be. late at
night and early in the morning is the only time the air goes frigid.
if anything, if he can’t sweet-talk harrington into getting naked, maybe he can
at least get some fucking sleep. neither of them sleep much, let alone well,
while alone in their respective beds. billy could sleep like a rock but had
been jolted awake far too many times by his father for sleeping in that he
would shoot up the second he heard footsteps close to his bedroom door. and
steve had these awful fucking night terrors some nights, all revolving around
monsters in the woods and people he loved getting murdered. they left with him
with a hoarse voice and purple thumbprints under his eyes each morning after.
billy had been privy to a few of those on the rare occasion he could spend the
night, had been nearly shoved out of harrington’s bed at three am and had to
calm the guy down before he hyperventilated and passed out.
billy raps his knuckles against the glass. he can see steve watching tv in bed,
dressed in a hawkins high sweatshirt and some tiny, much-too-tight running
shorts. he nearly jumps at the sound and billy chuckles, smiling as steve opens
the window, scowling a bit at him with a hand over his chest.
“i thought i wasn’t going to see you for a few more nights,” is all he says as
billy crawls through the frame. the room is dim with only the tv and bedside
lamp on, and billy winces as the frame catches against the bruise on his lower
back and he prays steve didn’t hear that.
praying doesn’t do enough, as the two immediately lock eyes. suddenly
harrington is all up in his space and billy says nothing, doesn’t have to -- at
this point, steve just knows.
“let me see,” is all he says, lets his hands fall onto billy’s hips.
billy attempts to argue, looks at the floor and lets his voice drop, scoffs.
“it’s not that bad, harrington.”
but harrington holds firm, repeats, “let me see,” stiffly.
steve slides his fingers atop broad shoulders and slips billy out of his
jacket, lets him shrug his t-shirt off before hesitantly turning him around. he
sucks a breath in as he sees the the dark line starting to purple the tan skin
of billy’s lower back. gently he traces a finger over it and billy hisses,
clenches a fist.
“it’s just a bruise, i’ve had worse.”
“i know, i’ve seen the ‘worse’.jesus christ billy, what happened?”
billy just shakes his head and rests his forehead against his hand gripping the
window pane. he just wanted to come here and forget,maybe have a good tumble in
the sheets and nap for a few hours with steve’s back pressed to his chest to
steady his breathing. but he can already imagine the watery look in steve’s big
doe eyes as he stares at his back, his brows pinched up and hiding in his bangs
and his soft, pink mouth pressed into a frown. the soothing hand is still on
his spine, barely ghosting over the bruise.
“look at me, will you?” steve presses and moves his hands away, “fucking look
at me.”
he turns with a grunt, licks at his bottom lip where he’d chewed it raw. steve
is just looking at him, all big brown eyes and soft dark hair, hands back at
his hips, holding him steady.
“what happened,” steve repeats, softer this time.
immediately, billy can feel himself crumble. he presses his forehead to steve’s
shoulder and lets out a shuddering sigh. it reverberates through his whole body
and steve gently pulls him into a very harrington-type hug, the one billy
always gets on nights like these. steve gets his arms looped around his back
and pulls him in close, stroking down his spine or holding the back of his neck
like he’s trying to keep billy’s broken pieces held together.
billy hates feeling weak, hates being weak, but he still lets steve’s gentle
fingers work some of the tension out of his body. fingers ghost over the bruise
and he’s briefly reminded of what makes him feel so weak in the first place.
honestly, as pissed off as he gets him, neil fucking terrifies him; he’s
constantly afraid going to end up in the hospital again like he did back in
california. even when his father’s hands aren’t on him, when he just shoots
billy an absolutely blood-curdling look from across the dinner table for not
saying ‘thank you, susan’when she wordlessly hands him a napkin, he’s scared.
and his threats, whispered when they pass each other in the hallway or happen
across each other alone in the living room, are always loaded, made with
intention.
he’s still so goddamn angry all the time because of it, but steve helps. steve
always helps.
“‘m sorry,” he whispers and grips the soft cotton of steve’s sweatshirt like
it’s a fucking lifeline, the only thing tethering him down. he can feel the
tears falling down his face and drenching steve’s shirt but can’t get himself
to stop.
steve just sighs and presses a kiss to the side of his neck. “don’t you be
sorry. this is not your fault.”
not your fault is what steve always tells him. he says it like a song right
next to his ear and holds billy close until he believes it deep down in his
bones. tonight, though, he’s having some trouble. he sniffles a little and
buries himself deeper into steve’s shoulder.
“my old man fucking hates me,steve, he can’t stand even thinking he has a fag
for a son and he makes sure i never forget it. he would’ve kicked me out ages
ago but i think he gets off on knocking me around and-”
“let him kick you out. fuck him, if he kicks you out you can stay here with
me.”
steve’s tone is biting and poisonous, much deeper than usual and billy has to
laugh at that. it’s not cruel or mocking though - it sounds exhausted and
disbelieving, even to his own ears. when he speaks, his voice feels too flat
and monotonous despite trying to lighten the mood. his eyes are still wet on
top of everything else.
“i don’t think mommy and daddy are going to like the idea that hawkins’
favorite fuck up is burying his dick in their precious baby boy andeating
dinner at their fancy parisian dining table.”
steve chokes on his spit and moves back. “god, did you have to say it that way?
i mean, they’re not even home enough to really be allowed to care if you’re
living here, but still.”
billy just grumbles in response, knows the evidence of tears on his face is as
bright as day. steve has seen him cry - an embarrassing amount of times, in his
opinion - on a few different occasions. the first time he’d been so shocked he
just pulled billy close and stuttered out please’s to try and make him calm
down. now, steve does this - grips him tight and just lets him cave, the tears
dripping down his face and into steve’s shoulder, and when he’s done he gets
the tears thumbed away like they were never there to begin with.
and despite how grateful billy is that steve lets him be vulnerable and crumble
and knows better than to mention it afterwards, just lets it remain in the
moment, doing it around anyone, even alone,now that he’s almost eighteen years
old and supposed to be a man, he feels like a pussy with no grip on himself.
“hey,” steve says softly, jolting him from his thoughts, “come to bed?”
and he nods, lets himself separate from his boy to scrub his face with the back
of his hand, kick his boots and socks off, undo his belt and tug his jeans
down. he’s wearing briefs for once - usually doesn’t when he’s over at steve’s
place or knows they’re going to meet up somewhere and get up to god knows what.
it’s just an obstacle, normally.
he crawls onto the expensive queen size mattress and settles in, rests his head
on steve’s chest and lets his heartbeat drum away in his ear. the tv is still
on but he’s not watching, not even listening really, and knows steve is only
half paying attention. he pulls an extra blanket over them and goes about
stroking the longer curls away from billy’s shoulders, breathing into the top
of his head.
not too long ago, billy would have crawled up to the window and immediately
been on steve, pushing him back onto the bed to rip his clothes off, bite and
suck red marks into his pale skin.
they’d fuck, billy always on top at the beginning. steve would go pliant and
let billy crawl on top of him, pin him down. steve was absolutely breathtaking
taking a dick, so responsive and reactive and billy wanted to tattoo the image
of the older boy losing it on the back of his eyelids. but, after a few too
many hungry, fleeting glances at the fucking monster between harrington’s legs,
he’d attempted to be be nonchalant and casual about offering to let steve fuck
him, just this one time.
after that it was all about who could pin the other down first, then they’d
fuck once or twice, wait until their breathing settled before going to wipe
themselves off. sometimes they’d talk for a bit, have a beer or share a few
cigarettes but most of the time steve would mumble out a see you next timewhile
billy went crawling out the window the second his clothes were back on.
then there were a few too many close encounters at school, nearly caught making
out in the back of cars or in the empty locker room, followed by weeknights
reserved for hookups ending up with the two of them asleep on each other on the
living room sofa. they’d talked for hours, often arguing over the stupidest
shit but sometimes joking, chipping away at each other’s backstories. after a
few stupid fights brought about by too much emotional constipation and denial,
they’d finally broke, gripping onto each other and promising they’d find a way
to make this, whatever thiswas, work.
from that point on, they’d stumbled, crashedinto each other, let their mutual
feelings drag them down into dangerous waters and make it unbearable to be away
from one another for too long, drowning in it. it definitely wasn’t perfect
between the two of them, with billy’s defensive, shut-off attitude and steve’s
worrying and nitpicking - but they were making it work.
and maybe ‘boyfriends’ wasn’t the word billy would use, not out loud and not in
hawkins at least, but that’s essentially what they were.
for a moment billy thinks he’d be completely content with falling asleep on
steve’s chest for a few hours, dressed down to his briefs and covered in an old
throw blanket, but his hand’s been inching up the other boy’s bare thigh for a
few minutes now and stroking the soft, sensitive skin close to his groin. he’s
at half mast soon, nudging towards billy’s hand and fidgeting a bit.
“we don’t have to tonight,” steve mumbles, but that doesn’t stop his hips from
stuttering the slightest as warm, rough fingers come much too close but still
fall just short of where he wants them to be.
and even now, sated, sleepy and comfortable, eyes still a little wet, billy
really wants to have his hands all over steve. just watching steve’s reaction
to his hand tracing up his leg has him rubbing down on the duvet a little bit
and feeling slightly more awake.
“i want to,” he says into steve’s sweatshirt, “fuck, i always want to.”
getting on his elbows, he tugs steve’s impossibly tight shorts down until his
erection springs free and bobs against his hip. he smiles a bit and catches
steve’s blush from the corner of his eye. steve was the good boy; usually billy
was usually the one going commando.
steve lets out a ragged breath and lets billy tug his shorts down a bit more.
“me too, always want you, always want my hands on you, always want you touching
m-fuck.”
billy gives him a few quick, dry jerks before digging his tongue into the slit,
letting the pre-come bubble out. steve always gets wet fast, can’t help it and
used to be embarrassed but knows billy has never had any complaints about it.
the blond gives a few licks around the head before he sinks down, letting out a
deep sigh once he’s got nearly the whole thing down his throat.
with hands knotting themselves in his hair, billy properly gets to work. one
hand pins steve’s shaking hips down while the other holds him steady, jerks him
off with a tight fist. after swallowing steve’s cock down his throat a second
time, he comes up for a proper gulp of air, watches those hooded brown eyes as
he lets spit and pre smear across his lips.
steve whimpers and throws his head back against the pillows, digs his heels
into the blankets as his dick hits the back of billy’s throat again. billy’s
nails in his hip are doing nothing to stop him from thrusting up into the hot,
wet heat that is the blond’s mouth.
billy loves to gives head, too, although none of his previous partners were as
expressive or melted into the pleasure like steve. billy always spaces when
he’s between steve’s thighs, allows himself to forget for awhile and focus only
on the brunet boy above him, under him, whichever way. he lets steve grip his
hair and push at his shoulders, fuck his big dick down his throat without
warning. steve had been so polite the first time billy sucked his dick. he kept
biting his lip to keep quiet and gripping the nearest surface to keep his hands
off.
billy, wanting to see how his mouth was pulling harrington apart at the seams,
pulled off and gave the older boy a pointed glare. “just fuck my mouth already,
harrington,” he’d said raggedly, his hand still wrapped around the base of
steve’s cock.
the hand in his hair suddenly tightens. “gonna come if you keep doing that,”
steve whispers. he doesn’t let go though, just sighs contently as a sneaky
thumb rubs dryly over his hole, “fuck billy, you’re amazing with your mouth.”
billy preens at that, gives a few shallow sucks then pulls off slowly, lets his
tongue trace the underside as he comes up. he gives himself a little squeeze
before sitting up on elbow and flashing steve a toothy grin. steve just rolls
his eyes, presses his thumb into those red puffy lips.
“stay the night,” he pleads softly, “i don’t want you going back there to get
more bruises.”
billy’s ready to argue, wants to ask aren’t your parents coming back tomorrow
afternoon?but at the same time, the harringtons like him, or so he thinks. he’d
always turned the charm on during the two or three occasions they’d been home
while he was there. he shook mr. harrington’s hand firmly and kissed steve’s
mother’s manicured, ring-clad hand like he was a goddamn nineteenth century
gentleman. still, it would be smart to remind steve.
“your parents are coming back tomorrow for the weekend, aren’t they? so you can
have your monthly ‘family dinner’ or some shit?”
steve wrinkles his nose at the reminder, looking like there’s a bad taste in
his mouth. “fuck, you’re right. but then there’s, also, y’know, at your place.
i can set an alarm so you can get home before your dad gets up?”
billy just leans down and kisses the exposed part of his stomach. “fine. but
he’s leaving tomorrow morning for a work thing in indianapolis, taking susan
with him so she can go ‘sightseeing’ or what-the-fuck-ever. probably why he
wanted to ‘talk some sense’ into me tonight. won’t have the chance for a few
days.”
steve frowns momentarily, but then his eyes light up. “go home, pack some
clothes, come over? i doubt my parents will care, my mom thinks you’re
charming,” and billy smirks at that, “shit, but then what about max?” steve
sits up properly and shucks the shorts completely so he’s just sitting there
half-naked in an old sweatshirt, dick still hard and wet at the tip.
billy grimaces. he hadn’t even thought about what he was going to do about max.
admittedly she’s a smart kid, knows she’d probably be fine on her own and would
also welcome the freedom, but if neil even thinks that max was home by herself
for more than five minutes, billy would get his car keys taken away for a week
and a nice purple bruise that would last just as long.  
steve puts a hand on his cheek then, forces him to look into those sweet, honey
brown eyes. his chest swells as steve’s thumb traces the outline of his jaw
before he’s leaning in to rest their foreheads together.
“stay the night, go home for a little bit in the morning, figure out what to do
with max after your dad and susan leave. i’m sure hop and jane would be happy
to have her over.”
billy’s still apprehensive when it comes to chief hopper but likes him
nonetheless. hopper’s always nice to him - in that somewhat gruff, standoffish
yet caring way he thinks a good father should be - but knows how protective he
is of steve and the kids, will take their side over his any day. he’s working
on that though, and he also knows that hop’s got a good idea as to what goes on
between him and his dad, but doesn’t say anything, just offers knowing looks
and mouths you know where to find me after he spots a fading bruise.
despite that, billy’s very aware that the fight in november is still hanging
over his head when it comes to chief hopper, but figures now it’s definitely
not as bad as whatever had brought them out to jonathan byers’ house to start
with.
and he likes jane. she’s a cute kid, a little hard around the edges and always
has this knowing look on her face. something about her reminds him of himself;
it’s probably the way she scowls when she’s frustrated or rolls her eyes when
hopper makes some lame joke. she’s smart too, even though she’s still learning
basic math and how to properly read. he always brings her library books when he
goes over to pick max up from the cabin. she’ll smile and thumb the covers,
then skip off and proudly show them to hopper like she’s trying to officially
win him over for billy’s sake.
but sometimes jane will stare right through him with her head quirked to the
side, then proceed to take his hand or rest her hand on his arm and smile a
little sadly.
“my papa too,” she’d said one time when he twitched as she skimmed over a
bruise. “not jim. papa.” he didn’t understand but he knew enough what she meant
to ruffle her curly hair and nod his own form of apology.
“fine, you win this one harrington,” billy grumbles and crawls up over him,
caging him in, “you better remember to set that damn alarm or you’re not
fucking me.”
steve scrambles and leans over to his bedside table, fiddling with the stupid
clock for a minute. he curses when a warm, rough palm reaches between his legs
and gives him a few jerks. billy gives his bare asscheek a little nip for good
measure, too.
“jackass,” steve mumbles. he’s smiling when he turns back around, though.
he moves a hand down between billy’s legs, cups him through his briefs, gets
him down in the blankets with a gentle push to the shoulder. billy winces as he
lands on the bruise, but steve kisses the look off his face immediately. he
sighs into his mouth, lets steve nip his lower lip and trace over the seam with
his tongue, then move down to his collarbone and actually bite. steve leans
back for a moment, looking very satisfied with himself. the mark is wet and
red, punctuated with tooth marks.
“feisty little thing, aren’t you?” billy grits out all low as he runs his
fingers over the indentations, “damnharrington, you’re like a goddamn vampire.”
they like to mark each other, usually billy with his mouth biting kisses into
flushed skin and steve with his hands bruising hips and leaving red scratches
down backs.
steve just shrugs, smirks, and dives back in. he reaches down once more and
slides his hand passed the waistband of billy’s briefs and gets a hand around
him. billy instantly sighs and melts into the feeling a bit, already rutting
into steve’s warm, rough palm.
“you gonna fuck me or what, harrington?” billy jilts.
steve sticks his tongue out in response. “patience is virtue.”
billy grunts as the palm slowly working up and down his cock goes a little
faster, but the grip is loose and teasing and not enough.frustrated, he bites
steve’s shoulder, pulling out a quiet gasp, but then his hand stills and billy
nearly whines.
“stop fucking around and get to it.”
“you need to calm down, you’re all wound up now,” steve says lowly, right in
his ear, “don’t fight me.”
billy, feeling a fire in his chest, nips at the side of his boy’s jaw. “funny,
you were just cramming your monster dick down my throat and whining like a
bitch in heat, but i’mthe one being impatient?”
“fuck off, you know you like it. besides, i like working you up, you get all
needy and pretty.”
pretty. steve’s compliments always get his stomach twisted in knots but
prettyisn’t exactly an adjective he’d use for himself. hot, sexy, yes. handsome
maybe, but pretty?
“babe, you’re the pretty one,” he argues, tone light and teasing as he tugs at
the bottom of steve’s sweatshirt. he lifts his hips up under steve’s hold and
trails his briefs down his thighs. steve pulls them off at his ankles before
tossing them to the carpet, lost in the sea of clothing already there.
“pretty,” steve repeats insistently into his skin, slowly scooting down the
bed.
he settles between billy’s thighs and kisses down his chest, sucking a bruise
into the muscled, taut skin stretched over one pectoral. he gives billy’s
nipple a little bite for good measure, drawing out a hiss, before he lets his
teeth trail down the dip of his abs. billy’s skin is warm and salty, smelling
faintly of cigarettes and sweat and that musky cologne he always uses.
billy tucks one arm under his head so he can watch steve better. the light from
the television, now muted, bathes steve’s freckled back in white and is
suddenly far too bright. it feels out of place with the slow kissing and warm
touches.
“turn the tv off, ‘s too distracting.” billy grumbles, toes at steve’s ribs
even as he’s inches away from his dick. steve rolls off the bed with a sigh and
goes to flick the set off, making the room significantly less bright and busy
looking. it’s dark downstairs and the shadow of the hallway is creeping in
through the door frame while the soft, warm glow from the lamp on the table
chases the darkness away.
with the low lamp light catching the flecks of green and gold in steve’s eyes,
billy watches as he skirts passed his cock and fully settles between his
thighs. his hands grip at the sun-kissed skin and he sucks a bruise into the
sensitive meat of billy’s inner thigh.
“c’mon harrington, get to it.” billy’s feeling impatient, wants to push steve’s
head down so he’ll fucking do something. he jabs steve’s rib cage with one cold
toe again, a subtle hint, and the taller boy hisses.
“lube, babe,” steve instructs, now scowling playfully, “‘s under the pillows.”
the dry pads of his fingers ghost down the strip of sensitive skin behind
billy’s balls before stopping over his hole. steve gently rubs over the dry,
puckered skin a few times.
“steve, please,” billy pleads. his arm is at a funny angle as he stays on his
back and he digs under the pillows to find the lube. the smile on steve’s face
is soft and sweet, but his pupils are are blown out and his arousal is present
in the red splotches that bloom up his freckled torso to his cheeks.
billy finally finds the lube, half hidden in the inside of a pillowcase, and
fights the urge to chuck the little plastic bottle at steve, who keeps dipping
the very tip of his index finger passed the flushed pink of his hole and
looking up sweetly like he’s never had a sinful thought in his life.
lube now in hand, steve quickly spreads the slick substance between three
fingers before he turns his palm up and slowly slides his index finger home.
billy lets out a low whistle at the feeling, doesn’t realize how much he missed
having something inside. missed having steveinside.
and yes, billy might fuck steve, but steve makes loveto him.
he thinks about it a lot, the way he often goes hard and fast, unrelenting and
constantly biting, scratching, only going slower to rile steve up or if he’d
specifically asked for some extra affection. steve on the other hand, works him
up good and slow until his bones feels like jelly and he’s begging, then steve
grinds deep down inside of him and puts stars behind his eyes while kissing his
face and smoothing his hair away.
“so good,” steve praises, biting his hip as he curls his finger and dips in
deeper, working his way up to that sweet spot, “so good and tight for me,
baby.”
billy chokes on a breath when steve grazes his spot, icy-hot settling low in
his belly. “fuck,” he hisses, can’t keep his eyes open. all he can do right now
is feel-- feel steve’s breath hot against his hip and the gentle slide of his
teeth as they graze bone, steve’s grounding weight between his legs while his
long fingers work sweetly inside.
a second, then a third finger works its way in and billy lets a low gasp slip
out. steve’s driving into his spot every couple of thrusts like he’s missing
every other time on purpose. when he’s inside it’s a completely different story
and a shiver runs up billy’s spine in anticipation. suddenly the mattress dips
at his feet and knows steve is humping into the sheets a little bit, his hands
too busy to give himself a few quick jerks.
“hurry up, asshole.”
“oh, are you not having fun?”
“harrington, i wear to god i’ll fuck myself at this point if you don’t get your
ass in gear.”
he says it in a breathy tone, steve pushing hardinto his prostate halfway
through the sentence, and all the heat dissipates. his voice is as low and
gruff as it is whiny and when steve’s fingers slip out, another whine spills
passed his lips.
steve suddenly sits up and back on his knees, perched in between billy’s strong
tan thighs as he leans down to kiss him. billy opens his mouth immediately,
runs his tongue over his mouth like he’s hungry for it and steve’s strong arms
cage in around his head as he licks his way into billy’s mouth. billy almost
succumbs, lets the thumb at his jaw angle his head up, but then he slips his
hand down and around steve’s cock. between wet kisses he gives it a few jerks
before he squeezes at the head. pre-come dribbles down his fist.
steve pulls away from the kiss all of a sudden and chokes on a moan -- billy
grins.
“get me, get me a condom,” steve stutters, sitting back up, “fuck you, billy.”
“been trying to get you to do just that for the past ten minutes, moron,” billy
grumbles, but he’s still blindly, hurriedly, digging around in steve’s bedside
drawer for the stupid things.
if fear of what everyone called ‘the gay disease’ hadn’t ingrained itself in
him back in california, he’d have already ditched the damn things to revel in
the feeling of steve’s come dripping out his hole and down his thighs and
getting to do the same thing to steve in return.
maybe he’ll bring the thought up soon; it’ll be an awkward conversation to have
anyway.
billy hands steve the little foil square and throws himself back into the
pillows, looks up at steve under his thick, long lashes and grins as he fumbles
with the wrapper. he spreads his legs a little wider and settles on the idea
that now is a brilliant time to be a tease, needs to rile steve up a bit more.
but at the same time, each bounce of the mattress punctuates the bruise on his
back and each time he’s temporarily reminded of what occurred earlier that
evening, why he crawled through steve’s window earlier that night in the first
place.
“hey you,” steve suddenly rasps, the wrapper only half open, “you’re spacing.
you okay?”
billy brushes steve’s thigh with his own and gives him a very pointed look. “‘m
fine babe, would be better if you’d the hell hurry up.”
he resorts to teasing, still watching steve with stormy blue eyes as his hands
fan out over his chest, ghosting over his nipples and down his abs, completely
avoiding his dick - painfully hard now, thanks, and drooling on his sweaty
lower stomach - and slipping under his balls to rub at his entrance. he briefly
gets some of his own pre on a fingertip and trails it back down. steve actually
chokes when he sees that and drops the condom wrapper on billy’s stomach.
billy covers a laugh with a little cough and sighs when he sinks the one finger
in to the second knuckle. steve just watches him for a moment, still leaves the
condom on his stomach and watches with big, blown-out eyes. they zone in on the
finger slipped inside, thrusting shallowly and not doing much other than
curbing the craving to have something filling him up.
suddenly steve’s mumbling something, flushed crimson from his freckled chest to
the tips of his ears and he’s breathing a little rapidly as he yanks billy’s
hand out, making him hiss, and snatches the condom up. he rolls it on quickly,
hands still shaking and billy wants to laugh at steve’s growing desperation,
but then there’s a hand pushing at his hip and motioning for him to turn over.
nothing steve is mumbling is clear -- it’s all whispered low and incoherent
under his breath.
billy flips over onto his stomach and rests his weight on his elbows and knees.
even with his cock fucking throbbingbetween his legs, he feels a bit
embarrassed and exposed in this position. he just wants steve to fuck him
already, push on that awful bruise and give it a different meaning.
he wiggles his rear a bit and shoots steve a heated look over his shoulder,
starting to get irritated when steve just looks back at him instead of moving.
he’s just up on his knees, bathed in the golden light of the lamp with sweat
shimmering on his hairline and his usually pristinely styled hair up all over
the place.
“fuck me,” billy grits out, grabs the base of his own cock and slides down so
he’s fully presenting himself, cheek pressed to steve’s expensive duvet and
feeling all too much like a bitch in heat, sweaty and flushed and nearly
dripping on the sheets. steve stares at him for another beat, silent but with
his chest heaving. it’s much too quiet between them and billy almost wonders if
the moment’s passed, which would be infuriating and disappointing and fucking
sadisticof steve, but then there’s lube smeared over his hole, the wet sound of
steve slicking himself up.
and fuck he’s still staring with those big amber eyes, mouth parted a bit. his
lips are a glistening magenta and his eyes flutter shut as he shifts forward
and rubs his cockhead against billy’s hole.
“yes, yes,” billy growls, grinds back, “c’mon baby, fuck me good.”
and finally, fucking finally, billy swears he can hear angels singing as steve
slides home with a violent jerk of his hips. it punctuates a groan out of both
of them and steve hangs over his back, one hand gripping a hip while the other
splays out on the back of his neck, pushing him down. billy grips the mattress
when steve hits, no, slamsinto his prostate.
steve never fucks him this way -- likes whispering sweetly and kissing him too
much. always looks in his eyes as he buries himself deep inside, like he’s
trying to make a home inside billy’s body.
his chest is hot and sticky plastered against the blond’s back, navel level
with the bruise his father had shoved there earlier as he starts thrusting in
with even more fervor. it’s harder, faster,deeperthan usual - billy can feel it
in his stomach. it makes everything feel molten and liquid inside of him.
the way steve’s pushing down on his back is possessive, leaning down just a bit
to kiss the notches of his spine, whisper mineminemine into muscled, sweat-
slick skin.
and as good as it feels to be on his knees taking it, pressed down to the
mattress with his cock bobbing heavily between his legs, billy yearns to watch
steve’s face and how it contorts so sweetly when he clenches up and whispers
something poisonous and filthy in the air between them.
right now, steve’s fucking him like he’s royally pissed off about something.
“harrington,” billy gasps out, “steve, sweetheart - hold on, fuckin’... fuckin’
stop for a sec.”
as good as it feels, he’s suddenly worried about it, afraid something’s wrong.
steve stutters to a halt, his jaw slack as he doesn’t pull out. his hips stay
pressed to billy’s perfect ass and he leans over his back, smoothing his sweat-
damp bangs out of his face as he presses his chin into billy’s shoulder blade.
“you okay? didn’t hurt you, did i?” he asks. his voice is strained and low but
there’s also worry there. steve is absolutely lust-addled and the one hand that
remains on billy’s hip is squeezing the skin and bone mercilessly.
“nah, s’not that, something’s up with you.”
steve presses an open-mouthed kiss into his shoulder. “what d’you mean? ‘m
fine, just love being inside you, making you feel how i feel when you’re
fucking me senseless.”
he chuckles a little while billy shivers and bites back a whimper, resting his
forehead on a clenched fist. i’m losing my fucking mind, he thinks, shit, he’s
still inside of me and right against that spot.
“not that,” he pants. “you’re being possessive, like really possessive. i think
i’m gonna have a bruise on my hip tomorrow.”
steve shrugs against him, like he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. but
billy knows better, knows that the second he looks over his shoulder that steve
will pretend to be focusing on a strip of wallpaper with his brows pinched up,
mouth pressed into a semi-frown while he plays stupid. so he does, gives steve
that cut the bullshitlook, the one he knows all too well.
“don’t play dumb, harrington.”
steve scoffs for a second, wiggles his hips in an attempt to be distracting.
they’re both rock hard despite the intermission. the blond sighs again, now as
the punishing hand on his hip travels down to slowly jerk him off, cup his
balls and stroke a thumb on the underside of his cock. “steve,” he pleads.
steve sighs and stills his hand - billy really wishes he didn’t - before he
nuzzles his nose into billy’s shoulder.
“when you came over tonight, you looked so, i don’t know, defeated.and i knew
you were still excited to come over, and i was too, i always am, especially
since i thought it was going to be a few more nights before you were climbing
up to my bedroom window again-”
“oh wherefore art thou, steve?” billy teases. steve burrows into his neck and
his cheeks heat.
“hyuk it up, lover boy,” steve laughs, voice still low as he slowly slips out
with a grunt. billy hisses and turns, clenches up and gives steve an irritated
look as he sits and crosses his legs. he wants to listen, wants to knowwhere
the sudden possession is coming from, and then he wants to get fucked just as
hard as he was a minute ago.
“i come over a lotlooking like that, though, and you never go that hard right
off the bat.”
heh, hard. he catches the glint in steve’s eye at that but he just smiles that
time and tucks one leg under himself, the other bent so he can rest his chin on
his knee. a hand comes out and smoothes over billy’s jaw gently, thumbs over
his lips.
“i dunno, it’s just, every time you come over like that, i get so pissed off i
can’t do anything, that you can’t do anything without making it worse, and when
you’re here i have to put you back together every fucking time, and i’m so damn
tiredof putting you back together just to send you back there and have it
happen all over again.”
billy’s chest suddenly aches a thousand times more than the fresh bruises and
his cock do.
steve always says that he’s stupid, that he’s dumb and only knows so much about
so few things, but billy never thinks so. calls steve a dumbass a lot, pokes
fun at him and helps him with his homework quite a bit, but steve isn’t stupid.
maybe he’s not particularly book smart or studious, but he can read people so
well, can read billy and those kids and nancy wheeler and even the byers’ kid
so expertly he could write novels describing their mannerisms. he understands
feelings and behavior strangely well.
the only thing steve had been wrong about was nancy loving him - and maybe she
did at points, but not the whole time they were together. that’s why he really
thinks he’s stupid and billy knows that it matters to him more than all the red
marks on his homework and see me’s marked on his essays.
besides that though, steve always knew what to do as to not push and start a
fight over something stupid, even in the beginning, because billy was always
wound tight as a spring and couldn’t handle being touched, couldn’t handle the
gentle whispering right away either because it made him feel condescended upon
and pitied, weak.
and even now steve is viewing him as transparent and is right. most of the
times he sneaks out it’s to come over and feel some sort of (what he recognizes
as) genuine love and affection, something he hasn’t had for most of his life
and that steve, in a way, hasn’t either -- not genuinely or consistently at
least. and steve gives him what he thinks is love so easily, as much as it
fucking guts and destroys him to get knocked around and berated over every
breath he takes in his father’s house, it means he gets to come back here to
have all that rage and fear washed away, if even for a few hours under the
moonlight, naked and wrapped in expensive sheets.
“‘s not forever, harrington,” he says weakly. he doesn’t even believe himself,
not with that tone, and knows long after he’s gone from this shithole that the
years of beratement are going to set him on edge at the slightest of conflicts
and make him distrustful, angry and bitter.
but at least this shithole brought him to steve harrington, albeit their
initial complicated relationship and one-sided rivalry. when he’s with steve
it’s easier and being better actually seems possible.
“yeah but you have another year in that hellhole,” steve whispers, voice
cracking as he presses his forehead against billy’s, long brown hair tickling
his nose. “or he’s going to kick you out when you’re eighteen, which is coming
up soon.”
billy sighs and closes his eyes. he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. he
just wanted to know what was wrong and now his chest aches and his throat is
constricting as he tries to swallow down the threat of tears. he’d been
fighting them all night, really, had only calmed when steve’s eyes found him as
he crawled in the window.
“still, not forever. and i got you, don’t i, pretty boy?”
he feels a soft kiss on his cheekbone, then on the tip of nose, on the corner
of his mouth and opens his eyes, stares directly into steve’s, all glassy and
wet at his bottom lashline. he knows he probably looks the same and smiles,
just the slightest bit. “don’t i?” he repeats, quieter.
steve nods, “you got me.” he says it thickly and it both sounds and feels like
a promise.
“then i’ll be fine. now -- get back to fucking me, alright? my dick honestly
hurts and i know yours does, too.”
steve chuckles and wipes his eyes on the back of his hand, then looks down at
their laps. despite the conversational break, they’re both still flushed and
erect, desperate to come.
“let me see you,” he whispers, “i thinknext time i’ll screw you facedown into
my mattress.”
billy hums low in his throat at the thought and settles down on his back. the
other angle is perfect because steve can absolutely wreck him when he’s got his
ass in the air and his face pushed into the sheets - he unabashedly loves
holding him down and doing it to steve, too - but this way they can kiss and
whisper and grab onto each other like lifelines when they’re barreling towards
completion.
steve grabs the discarded tube of lube teetering at the edge of the mattress
and smooths some more slick on himself before he crawls up on his knees between
billy’s legs. he rubs his cockhead against billy’s hole a few times, pulling
out a litany of frustrated grumbles before he grips onto the meat of one strong
thigh, pins the other leg, now folded, against billy’s torso and he gears up.
billy watches him from under hooded eyes as he holds the base of his erection
and pushes inside once more. he sighs contently when steve’s face contorts with
pleasure, lets strong hands push one thigh down and open while the other acts
as a stabilizer, gripping the sheets right next to billy’s head.
steve’s dick is so big, both on the long side and mouth-wateringly thick and he
fucking knows how to use it. with enough pushing and praising, he’ll fuck
billy’s throat until there are tears in both of their eyes and when he’s on top
like this he’s so exact and purposeful with his thrusts, whether he’s just
slipped inside or is about to come and is going erratic with movement.
each jolt of his hips presses the blunt head of his dick against billy’s
prostate and it sends an icy chill of arousal up billy’s spine and makes him he
bite his lip, grip the pillows behind them. steve grasps the blankets and his
hip even tighter and holds him in place while he fucks into him, like billy’s
just a hole for him to come in -- not like either of them would be objected to
that.
bathed in the low yellow light of the bedside lamp, even under his long lashes
and eyes that refuse to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time, steve
is absolutely beautiful. his skin is glistening with sweat, hair falling in his
face, eyes pinched shut as he works his plush lower lip between blunt, white
teeth. he grinds his hips forward until they’re flush to billy’s ass and then
he pulls back a few inches, slamming back in again over and over. each thrust
is punctuated with a grunt, primal and raw.
steve is exactly what billy thinks heaven looks and feels like, if heaven
exists.
billy is starting to lose his damn mind and attempts to move forward to meet
steve’s thrusts. his cock jumps against his belly with each jerk of steve’s
hips, dripping clear beads in the dip of his abdominals. the room smells of the
subtle mix of their respective colognes and natural scents, but is mainly heavy
with the musky, heady scent of arousal. the only sound is the constant
squeaking of the bed frame, the slapping of skin on skin and the two of them
gulping in air like they’re suffocating.
“so pretty,” he gasps out, splays on hand across steve’s sweaty chest, “fuck,
stevie, so fucking gorgeous.”
steve chokes and his hips stutter for a beat. he peers down at billy with that
beautifully blissed out expression and bends down, frees both of his legs
temporarily before silently urging him to throw them over his shoulder. billy
complies, easy, and licks his lips. steve’s inches from his face now and he’s
in impossibly deep. his pace is unrelenting and even with both of his hands
grasping the sheets, caging billy’s head in between his toned arms, he’s
fucking shaking, unstable and overcome with pleasure.
“you don’t give yourself enough credit, hargrove,” steve pants, “you look so
good on my cock, just fucking taking it like you were made for me. fuck, i
think about this all the time, being inside of you andhaving you inside of me,
jerk off thinking about coming inside of you and watching my come leak out of
your hole, down your legs.”
steve’s clearly becoming more and more unhinged in the sack, not the little
vanilla boy billy had a few months back because what he just said, that’s the
kind of filth billy usually spews in the heat of the moment. he fucking keens.
“tell me more, talk to me,” billy demands, voice as needy as it is commanding.
he’s bossy in bed, is as bossy when he’s taking something as he is when he’s
burying his cock, fingers or tongue inside steve on the sofa, on the shag
carpeting in the living room, in the backseat of the camaro with the door open
when they’re parked at the quarry -- every which way. steve is a brat though,
will complain in this breathy, needy tone and sometimes pout just to rile billy
up. steve also tends to stutter when he tries to talk in the sack and it’s as
endearing as it is kind of funny.
“fuck, think about pinning you to the walls in the showers while everyone’s in
there, just slide my dick inside of you and have everyone know i’m yours and
you’re mine, not anyone else's. then sometimes, when i’m in class,” and steve
chokes as billy clenches around him after one especially hard jab at his
prostate, “want you to bend me over one of the desks and put your fingers in
me, eat me out. you’ve got the best tongue, baby, get hard just thinking about
it.”
“you get off thinking about me?” he asks, but is not at all surprised. right
now he just needs to hear it, hear steve’s dirty fantasies and all the things
he gets up to alone, to finish him off.
“think about you all the time,” steve gulps. “fuck myself on my fingers in the
shower and wish they were yours, jerk myself off wishing i could come in your
mouth instead of in my hand, oh my god stop doing that or i’m gonna come in
like, two seconds.”
billy laughs breathily, tosses his head back as the feeling in his gut goes icy
hot and borders on overstimulation. he hasn’t even touched his cock yet and
neither has steve.
“god i think i’m fucking in love you, fucki’m so gone for you, sweetheart,
couldn’t imagine not having you, making me feel so safe-”
“steve-”
“- shut up i’m trying to tell you how much i love you, god!” steve chokes, eyes
wet, and he’s fucking laughing, “never want anything to happen to you, breaks
my fucking heart every time i gotta see you the way you were earlier. i swear
to god i’d kill him if i could, billy, i’d fucking kill him so he’d never hurt
you or anyone else again.”
billy can immediately feel that overwhelming, tight swelling in his chest and
throat at steve’s words, his hopes and praises and confessions. there are
immediately tears in his eyes, welling up big and fat as he tries to focus on
steve above him. his vision is going blurry and a few slip down as he hiccups
on a sob. then one of steve’s hands is on him, thumbing away the tears and it’s
followed by a series of kisses being pressed into the thick column of his
throat, up the side of his jaw to his chin.
“fuck you, harrington,” he hiccups, desperately trying to wipe the fresh tears
away while steve kisses him and holds his jaw in place, “makin’ me cry during
sex like a little bitch.”
“love you too, asshole.”
billy slips his legs off steve’s shoulders to urge steve to sit up straight and
properly pound into him, then immediately wraps them around his waist to pull
him in deep and hold him there. he digs his heels into the meat of steve’s ass,
egging him on as he’s wiping his face whilst feeling much too cloudy and
overwhelmed, and pushes at his chest with fidgeting hands.
“c’mon baby, make me come, make me come on your big dick,” billy chokes out
breathlessly.
steve whimpers and shifts up, staring down at him through half-lidded eyes as
his thrusts go both deeper and faster. he keeps losing his balance and falling
forward a little bit, using billy’s hips as leverage as he shoves them towards
completion. gripping onto the pillows and onto steve’s forearm, billy’s had
enough and just wants to come. he feels a little hysterical, definitely
overstimulated, doesn’t know how either of them have managed to last this long
even with their brief intermission to talk about feelings.
his cheeks are tacky with tears and itch a bit but the feeling goes away as
steve gets a hand on him. steve jerks him off four, five times when the spring
wound tight deep in the pit of his stomach uncoils and jets off. he can’t even
get a warning out as he lets out an uncharacteristically high, cut-off moan and
he’s shooting onto his torso, over steve’s loose fist and up his chest and
nearly into the dip of his collarbone. his eyes are pinched shut, colors
bursting behind his lids and his chest constricts with the power of it. he
clenches up painfully tight, nearly leaves bruises on steve’s ass with his
heels as he rips the orgasm out of the other boy.
steve’s hand stutters on his sensitized cock and he leans forward, getting a
few more droplets of out of billy as he bites off a delicate gasp and screws
his eyes shut, spurting into the rubber deep inside billy’s body. steve lets
out a breath as his hips stutter to a halt and billy has to push his hand away
weakly, can’t handle the touch and feels raw, cut open from the dual intimacy
and ecstasy.
steve nearly falls backwards on the bed as he pulls out, lands on his ass and
carefully removes the condom and lazily ties it off, tosses it in the direction
of the bin without a second glance. billy has to stare as steve leans over him
again and admires the mess on his stomach and chest and carefully gathers it up
onto his fingers, slips the mess between billy’s lips.
he knows steve has totally stolen this move from him but isn’t complaining. he
loves feeding steve’s come back to him when he shoots off messily across his
hand or lower abdomen and loves that he gets to do it from this position, too.
steve does this until only some sticky traces are left behind, then he sweeps
his tongue over his fingers and leans in for a sloppy, wet kiss. billy still
tastes himself, slightly salty, and pushes the remainders of his release passed
steve’s plush bubblegum lips. he drinks in the moan he receives and smiles
against the older boy’s mouth, giving his chin a kitten lick once he pulls
away.
they just lay there on their backs on top of the duvet for a bit, bathed in the
warm light of the bedside lamp and their afterglow. billy feels as sated as he
does raw, scrubbed clean -- and maybe a little tender down south. the biting
tension usually settled in the center of his being has been soothed, for now at
least, through steve’s affirmations and touch. he rolls over onto his side and
watches steve for a beat, the slowing rise and fall of his chest, the
smattering of freckles creating constellations on his skin, the lavender
bruises under his eyes from recent lack of sleep.
“you just gonna sit there and stare at me all night or are you actually going
to get some sleep?” steve asks, eyes closed. he reaches out blindly and taps
billy’s cheek before opening his eyes, offering a small smile. billy just leans
into his touch and rolls forward a bit more so their noses are nearly touching.
“mm, just thinking ‘bout how pretty you are.”
“sap,” steve teases. he leans down to gather up the throw blanket from the end
of the bed and pulls it over them as they start to cool down again. “you do
need to get some sleep, though, so you’ll actually be awake when you come over
tomorrow.”
billy yawns for good measure and cards his fingers through steve’s bangs. “yeah
yeah, i will. dad and susan will probably be on the road just after eight, so
i’ll need to be up to see them off. then i’ll call hopper and ask if max can
stay over, max’ll call them from the chief’s house and make some bullshit up
about a surprise sleepover and then i’ll come back here.”
“ok, but what if they call your place to check up on you?”
billy scoffs. “they’ve never called to check up on me. they’ll believe whatever
shit story max tells them and that’ll be good enough.”
steve looks unsure but drops it, instead pulls billy closer under the blanket
and tangles their legs together, presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “get
some sleep then, don’t want you bitching about being tired and having a sore
ass tomorrow at the dinner table.”
“excuse me, that is peak dinner conversation, harrington.” billy buries his
face into the crook of steve’s neck and chuckles, lets his eyes close as he
breathes in the warm scent of steve’s skin.
“shut up,smart ass.”
“love you too, sweetcheeks.”
 
End Notes
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