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passivenovember · 3 months

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Billy's leg hair is soft. Like peach fuzz.

Steve touches it when Tommy convinces them to hop the pool's security fence one sweltering night in August even though Steve has a goddamn pool.

"Fuck off," Tommy says.

"Don't be a pussy," Tommy says.

"Leave him alone," Billy snaps, so Tommy does. Whatever Billy says. Always and forever.

So they go, even though Steve's got a pool and a baggie of Colorado weed at home. He thinks it might be a way to prove some sort of point, just for the thrill of it, and he almost says no, almost pussies out, until he sees the bright big smile on Billy's face, and. Well.

Steve's never claimed not to think with dick, so.

Billy's the first to go over. All teeth and bright blue eyes when he says, "I'm the one who fuckin' works here, I should scope it out first," and Tommy agrees because Billy's the pied fuckin' piper now. The King.

"You're a pal," Billy claps a hand on Tommy's neck. Squeezes. "Who's gonna get me over the ridge?"

"I will," Steve says quickly. Too quickly. Showing his ass a little, but. Fuck it. Tommy gets the smiles for operating as Billy's little fuckin' lapdog, but he doesn't get to touch Billy, Steve decides. "I'll lift you."

Billy smiles at him. Small and secret and just for them, "Alright, pretty boy. Gimmie a boost."

Tommy gets to hold Billy's cigarette and suck on the filter where those cherry red lips have been, but Steve gets to fold on one knee. Gets to feel the balding sole of Billy's sneaker press into his thigh. Gets to tangle is fingers in the thatches of hair along Billy's calf and just under the hem of his tiny green Hawkins High Phys Ed shorts, and.

Tommy's green with envy. Like Billy's shorts.

He chickens out just when Billy hoists himself onto Steve's leg, his perky little ass at eye level so they can both watch it jiggle while Billy tries to jam his sneaker toe into the chain link. They stare. Salivate. Catch each other staring and realize that they're competing for this. For Billy. Just like they did with Connie Mitchell in the first grade, and point guard all sophomore year.

Steve raises an eyebrow.

Billy may be the king now but that's only because Steve lets him. Only because Steve thinks of his dick first and only and seceded the throne in order to get at Billy's cock. Threw in the towel, y'know, small losses.

Point is, at the end of the day, Tommy's gone toe-to-toe with Steve Harrington enough to clock a lost cause when it presents itself, so.

He chickens out.

Billy gets his toe into the chain link and calls Tommy a pussy, treats them both to the fuckin' ace view of one ass cheek peeking out from the hem of his shorts before Tommy ducks across the parking lot with his tail between in his legs.

Once he's gone, Billy hops over the fence and lands grinning. Gorgeous. "Damn, been a while since I've climbed anything other than a pair of legs."

Somehow, his shirt is already off. What's left of Steve's brain goes out the window.

"Could use a swim," Billy says. The cicadas are loud as hell.

Sweat makes Steve's jeans stick to his legs. His mouth is dry. Can't goddamn take his eyes off the pink, tender swatch of Billy's nipples. "Totally," He says, lost.

"Hot out here."

"Mmm," Steve says. Losing his mind.

"Tommy took the hint. Nothin' to keep tabs on anymore," Billy tells him. He ducks, trying to catch Steve's eye. When he finally does Billy grins, slow and terrible. "You comin' over the wall, pretty thing?"

A skinny dip isn't the most sexual thing Steve's ever experienced, all things considered.

It's the before. The build up. Steve watches Billy undress, like a fuckin' creep hiding in the shadows with his eyes glued to the tanned curve of Billy's ass. He tugs his shorts down and Steve gets that he was commando that whole time.

Damn.

Steve mourns what could've been if Billy's balls had slipped out of his shorts instead of his ass cheek ten minutes ago, pouting until Billy turns and says, "Race me?"

Before Steve can respond Billy's tucking his knees up under himself, slamming like a canon ball into the deep.

Steve struggles out of his clothes and runs toward the water, the soles of his feet burning on the pavement where it holds desperate to the heat of the day.

And the thing about Billy is that Steve's met his match finally. Has known since that first basketball practice last year, when Billy wouldn't stop frustrating the hell out of the other players.

It's like. Everything Billy does, everywhere he goes and everyone he meets is forced out of mediocrity. Forced to be better.

So, they play horse in the darkness. They dunk each other. Race back and forth across the entire length of the pool until Billy wins, even though Steve kept grabbing his ankle to slow him down.

"Damn, princess, that was tragic" Billy giggles, hoisting himself to sit on the edge of the pool and Steve gets a peek at his cock, soft and thick between his legs. "Lucky it was just me and the cicadas here to witness that. Anyone else would laugh you outta town."

"Who would boost you over fences?"

"Tommy Hagan."

Steve snorts, "Tommy Hagan is made of hamburger meat and boxed jello. He's all mass, he'd get too excited about finally being allowed to touch you and you'd fall right through him."

Billy giggles at that, again. High and bright like a church bell, and.

The thing about Billy is that he's gorgeous. Looks like one of those old ass Greek and Roman statues, slick with water that only makes him glow incendiary in the moonlight.

Steve paddles around just for something to do. Probably looks like a fuckin' dork and Billy will never let Steve touch him again--

"Shit, you're cute when you're jealous," Billy says, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Grins when he notices Steve watching him, "Could use a cigarette, Bambi. You got one?"

"No," Steve paddles toward the edge of the pool. "I think I killed a lung, anyway"

"Or two," Billy teases, spreading his thighs a little when Steve gets close enough, and.

That does nothing to help the situation. Steve's out of breath and hard at the way Billy's curls turn into lazy ringlets when they're full of chlorine. Hard at the obnoxious cut of his Superman abs. Hard at the way Billy's looking at him. So.

He can't catch his breath. His lungs burn.

Billy watches him for a moment, thoughtful, before he says, "I don't like Tommy Hagan at all."

Steve laughs. "Me neither."

"Why do you hang out with him?"

Steve shrugs, gripping the wall next to Billy's legs. "'Cause you do."

"Now that's just pathetic. Aren't you supposed to be the King around here?" Billy watches him so more and then grins, slow and terrible, "King Steve, right?"

"Ugh, shut up. I hate that."

"What, you're bored of your crown? You don't want it anymore, baby?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "No."

"What do you want then?" Billy asks. His gaze rests, heavy as a boulder, on Steve's face. His eyes burn a line down the bridge of Steve's nose, all but cutting his skull in half with their intensity.

Steve swallows. Thinks. They're sitting around naked at the public pool, for Christ Sake. Says, "I want you, Billy." and prepares for the sky to cave in around them.

Steve holds his breath.

Somewhere, behind the lifeguard station, an air conditioning unit disrupts the lazy summer air. Steve wills himself to keep steady, to stand his ground and hold Billy's gaze while a million different expressions shutter over him like sunlight.

Finally, Billy cracks. "Are you fucking with me, Harrington?"

"No," Steve says. Too quickly. Showing his ass a little but Steve thinks they may be beyond that, now. His knuckles turn white on the tile lip of the swimming pool, trying to keep the rest of him afloat, "I think. Ever since you got to town I've. Wanted you."

"Wanted me how?"

"I," Steve kicks his feet in the water, stomach swooping with lust and, fuckin'. Embarrassment. "I want--"

Billy cocks his head, considering. "Don't look like you've ever sucked anyone off, sweetheart."

"I haven't," Steve says. Feels a little like a school girl in a porn tape, looking up at Billy through his lashes while he admits to being a virgin, or something. Needing to be shown.

The thing is, Steve probably could've sucked guys off before, now that he's thinking about it. Tons of guys. Every guy on the basketball team, probably, but.

He doesn't say that.

The only guy he wants to suck off is Billy.

So.

Billy smirks at him. Mean. "No shit?" But his cheeks are pink. Strawberry.

"No shit," Steve tells him. "I want to try, though. I want--"

"--You wanna suck my cock, baby?"

Steve flushes bright red, feels flame licking at his skin. No one's ever spoken to him like that, no one's ever--

Steve nods. Wets his lips, and. Billy tracks the whole thing, leaning back on his palms so his abs jump and strain. Fuckin' asshole.

"Say it," Billy demands, voice gruff.

Steve blinks, "Say...?"

"Tell me what you want," Billy tells him slowly, "Ask. And maybe I'll give it to you."

Steve's palms slip on the tile, slick with sweat. "Can I suck your cock, Billy? Will you show me?"

Billy exhales, sharp and fast, "You want to?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Why should I let you when Tommy Hagan would--"

"Tommy Hagan would use too much teeth," Steve says. When Billy blinks at him, eyebrows raised, he huffs, "Look, I said I've never sucked a guy off, not that a guy has never--"

"--Tommy Hagan sucked you off?"

"All summer between junior and senior year," Steve tells him. "Small towns are boring."

"That makes me a little jealous," Billy hums, "Why should I let you suck my cock? How do I know I'm not payback?"

"What, for Tommy Hagan?"

Billy shrugs. And Steve knows, alright? He gets it. Being an asshole is Billy's version of foreplay, but he snaps. Desperate. A little bit of a whore, but. Who gives a shit.

"Look, Hargrove, you want me to spell it out for you or something? Let me suck your dick, you fuckin' asshole, I'm not getting any younger--"

"--Gonna come in my pants if you keep talking like that, baby."

Steve swallows. "You're not wearing any pants."

Billy's smirk turns into an awful grin. He stares down at his thighs, spreading them until his cock bobs free, flushed head nodding at the moon. "Well. Would ya look at that."

It hangs in the air between them. Figuratively.

Literally.

Billy grips the base of his cock, thighs spreading until his peachy leg hair grazes Steve's pinky finger, and Steve smirks. Kicks his feet. Swallows. Kicks his feet. "Ask me nicely and maybe I'll give it to you."

Billy exhales a laugh, "You're such a bitch."

"I'd let you come inside me."

Billy groans, "Fuckin' brat."

"Guess you're gonna have to shut me up, then," Steve says, more turned on than he's ever been in his life when Billy tangles his fingers in Steve's hair to pull him through the water.

"Jesus Christ," Billy breathes, shoving his fingers in Steve's mouth and pumping them in and out, in and out just to watch his lips blow fat around the digits. "I'm gonna fuck your face," Billy says, matter of fact, "Tap my thigh if you want me to--"

"Jesus Christ, are you gonna fuck me or not?"

Billy laughs again, a little winded, and forces Steve to take him to the root. And. Okay. Steve's never taken a cock down his throat before. It's nice, Steve likes the pressure and immediately he's addicted to the way it cuts off his air supply. He relaxes around Billy's length which is a fuckin' feat, because.

Look.

Steve doesn't remember this hanging between Billy's legs at school. He focuses on breathing when he can. Some poor pool boy is gonna have to use the net to scrape his come out of the water in the morning for $3.50 an hour.

He hopes it's Billy.

Thinks he'll have to use his father's name and make some calls to get it to happen.

And. Judging by the sounds Billy can't hold in, looks like he's met his match in Steve, too.

#harringrove #idk what this is #a warm up to get ready for the smut in my big bang #lemon #or maybe a grapefruit #not too sour #i didn't do any editing so i dont want to hear it!#okay bye!

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