#steve harrington x billy hargrove | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sadhours · 6 months

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Harringrove at Tina’s party pleaseeeeee. Steve is a sobbing mess over nancy and just wants to forget and who better than to assist him with that than Billy???? Also Billy just leaving Steve covered in his cum and crying over his new conflicted feelings like ughhhh

Hi I love you. This was fun to write. It uh, gets a lil sad at the end.

Cw: 18+ minors dni, Billy using Steve. Some degradation. Smut and angst?

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The words repeated heavy in Steve’s head, over and over and over until his stomach churned with dread and disgust. Nancy thought they were bullshit? While Steve thought they were what? In love? He feels like a fool but what the fuck else is new. The eyes on him as he stalked after her and her stupid punch stained shirt tell him he’s gonna hear about this all week at school. Guaranteed to be blame of the punch spill anyways.

He had fully intended to stay relatively sober at this party when he arrived but now the slice in his heart needs mending and ya know what, that bottle of Jack he earlier denied is calling his name. So he goes to find it, eyes scanning the crowd until it falls on that annoying man, pecks peeking out behind a leather jacket and of course, the stupid fingerless gloves he’s wearing are wrapped around that bottle of whiskey Steve is suddenly desperate for. Fuck it. He’s King Steve, this beautiful asshole called him that earlier, when he puffed his chest and glared into Steve’s soul. He can fucking take the whiskey from him. In fact, he has to. Pushing through the crowd, Steve gets his fingers around the neck of the bottle and tugs. Hargrove raises his eyebrows, lips turning up into a smirk but he doesn’t give, grips the shaft of the bottle tighter.

“Need something, King Steve?” his honeyed voice purrs and it boils Steve’s blood.

With a curl of his upper lip, he growls back, “Yeah, fork it over, prick.”

“Oh,” Billy cackles, “Yes, your majesty. Here.”

Steve rips the bottle from Billy’s hand and takes a dangerous swig of it, the amber liquid burning down his throat. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the blue ones glued to his face, something insidious behind them. Steve doesn’t care, chokes down another fiery swig and exhales, his stomach swirling with heat from the booze. Hargrove keeps eying him with intrigue, a playful tilt to his smirk that makes Steve weary. He goes to stomp off, then fingers are wrapping around his wrist.

“Something bothering you?” Billy asks with a duck of his head, shining teeth bared in a smile Steve doesn’t exactly trust.

“Yeah, you.”

“Feisty, nice. I’ve heard that about you,” Hargrove beams, keeps his grip firm on Steve’s wrist and tugs him into the bathroom he’d just been told he was bullshit in.

He locks the door behind him, leans against the door and looks at Steve differently. Almost hungry?

“What’s this about? Let me out,” Steve seethes and moves for the doorknob but Billy blocks him.

“C’mon,” he pouts, “something’s bothering you, what is it?” Hargrove tilts his head, “Something to do with your stuck up girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” Steve hates the way his eyes well up with tears, hates the way his stomach drops at the mention of Nancy.

“She dump you in here?” Billy asks with this shit eating grin that makes Steve’s skin crawl.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Steve tries, ashamed of the way his voice cracks when he says it.

Hargrove pouts again, snatches the bottle from Steve’s grip and swallows some down before setting it on the counter, “C’mon, you’re King Steve, right? Bitches come and go.”

“Stop,” Steve whimpers out, bringing his hands up to his face in shame as the tears trickle down his cheeks.

Billy crowds him then, presses the small of his back against the counter and gets real close to his face. It’s threatening at first but something about Billy’s whiskey and nicotine tinged breath on his face is… hot? Oh, god. What the fuck is wrong with him? It’s the whiskey, even though he hasn’t really had much. It’s the rejection doing it. He’s not even into guys. Why the hell is Billy Hargrove of all people making his dick twitch? It makes such little sense that he’s full on crying now, sobbing into the minuscule space between them. And Hargrove’s hands grip his waist, and then he… he fucking licks the tears off of Steve’s cheek and Jesus Christ, he’s hard in his jeans from it. Steve chokes out another pathetic sob before he shoves Billy back, glaring down at him fiercely.

“The fuck is wrong with you, faggot?” Steve seethes out, pushing down another sob.

Billy scoffs, raises a brow and moves his hand to cup Steve through his jeans, “I’m not often wrong. And I’m not wrong this time, faggot.”

Steve closes his eyes as he whimpers, the warmth and firmness of Billy’s palm against his pulsing erection confirms it for the both of ‘em. Steve likes this. He actually fucking likes this. And it’s definitely because the whiskey and Nancy breaking his heart and not actually because he’s attracted to Hargrove. He thinks for a brief moment before he’s reaching back for the bottle of Jack and downs some more. He sets it back down and rolls his hips into Billy’s hand, letting another slew of tears escape his eyes. Hargrove presses into his strained erection and licks his cheek again. And it’s the oddest thing. Steve feels heat pooling in his stomach from it. Maybe it’s the whiskey. The safer thing to think is it’s from the whiskey and not from the weird, gay degradation happening.

“Poor King Steve,” Hargrove whispers in his ear, “Crying over some mediocre pussy.”

Steve can’t even fight back anymore, he’s over the fight and all he can is welcome the pleasure erupting over his body from Hargrove fondling his cock and balls over his jeans. It’s pathetic, he knows that but it feels too good and he wants more. No, he needs more. Tells Billy as much with a whimper and another roll of his hips.

“I’ll make you cry like a bitch, too,” Hargrove mumbles into the shell of his ear before dipping down to bite his lobe and tug.

The cries turn into moans as Billy bites down Steve’s neck and undoes his jeans, shoving them down his thighs and wrapping his fingers around Steve’s aching cock. The leather from the gloves is an interesting sensation, Steve likes it a lot. It’s obvious by the way he’s thrusting up into Billy’s fist and whining.

“God, you’re whiny,” Billy observes, jerking Steve’s cock dry in his palm, “That why the princess dumped you? She get fed up with how much of a bitch you are?”

“Shut up,” Steve says behind gritted teeth, fingers moving to grip the counter behind him.

“I haven’t even done anything,” Billy comments? pulling back as he scoops the precum bubbling from Steve’s dick on his fingertip and brings it up eye level, “Even your dick is weeping.”

Billy apparently thinks he’s hilarious by the way he cackles, but then he’s licking the slick from his finger and Steve’s knees almost buckle from the sight. He thinks this might be the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, and that’s alarming but something for him to consider after he’s blown his load. Hargrove drops to his knees and squeezes the base of Steve’s cock, looking up at him under thick lashes. He’s so pretty, Steve wants to touch his face, drag his thumb along Billy’s cheekbone but he doesn’t let himself. His leaking, pulsing hard on is proof enough he thinks Billy is pretty, doesn’t need to push his luck anyway. He thinks Hargrove might bite his fingers if he does so, or maybe worse, his dick.

Plush, pink lips circle the head of Steve’s cock and he’s letting out a gasp, shocked by just how much he likes the sight. He wants so desperately to touch the boy before him but he won’t let himself, no matter how much those dirty blonde curls are begging to have Steve’s fingers in them. Hargrove’s mouth is so warm and so wet as he takes Steve down. Better than any hole he’s ever been in and that’s… another thought for later. His cock twitches in Billy’s mouth, and he smirks around it, letting Steve know he felt it.

“Fuuuck,” he whines out, lips parting in ecstasy. The arousal he feels now is white hot, intoxicating more than any swig of whiskey. If he’s not careful, he’s libel to fall in love with Billy Hargrove this instant and nobody needs that. Pupils blown, Billy looks into Steve’s eyes while he sucks him down deep, so deep. Steve can feel his tip hitting the back of Hargrove’s throat and the fucker swallows. Steve’s seeing stars for a second, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Billy as he slips his fingers into that dumb fucking mullet. Tugs while he moans lowly, earning another smile around his cock. God damn, this idiot is pretty and Steve hates him and loves him all at once. Wants to punch his dumb face and kiss it at the same time.

Hargrove moves a hand up and cradles Steve’s balls in his palm, bobbing his head up and down like he was fucking born to do this. How did he get so good at sucking cock? Steve suddenly feels excited at the prospect of knowing this secret about Billy, maybe he can use this against him. But then again, it’s his dick down Hargrove’s throat. One of these might be gayer but Steve can’t even finish these thoughts because Billy’s giving him the blowjob of a lifetime and Steve’s pathetically on the brink of orgasm. Can’t even warn Billy before he’s shooting down his throat.

“Christ,” he chokes out, bucking his hips into Billy’s face as he chases the pleasure and this guy is a champ. Billy grabs a hold of Steve’s thighs and takes the face fucking, then leans back on his haunches as he grins up at him.

Steve’s panting against the counter, coming back down to earth when Billy opens the cabinet to the left of his leg and starts rifling through it.

“What are you doing?” Steve wonders, voice wrecked.

“Said I was gonna make you cry like a bitch, didn’t I?” Billy quips around a dangerous smirk, holding up a bottle of baby oil.

“What?” Steve asks, eyes wide. What the hell is Hargrove gonna do with that oil?

“Turn around,” Billy rises to his feet, eyebrow lifted like he dares Steve to disobey.

“Dude— no,” Steve gapes, “I—“

“Pretty boy, I said turn around,” Billy levels, eyes dark and Steve does, in spite of everything telling him not to. Hargrove’s lips are on his ear, “Lemme show you something that priss never could.”

Suddenly, there’s a slickness pressing to his asshole and Steve chokes out a gasp, looks at himself in the mirror and his face shows the shock he feels. Billy hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and meets his eyes in the mirror as his fingers rub circles against Steve’s hole. It feels nice despite the panic rising in his chest, and Steve doesn’t tear his eyes away from the reflection of Billy’s.

“I’m gonna make you feel better than that bitch ever could,” Billy tells him, voice low and raspy which causes another stir to Steve’s softening cock. Then Billy’s finger pushes past the tight ring of Steve’s asshole and it’s a sharp pain but at the same time it’s overwhelmingly pleasant. Punches a moan out of Steve’s throat and he drops his head, eyes on the sink but immediately, Billy’s hands on his throat and urging his head upright again.

“Look at yourself,” he insists, curling his finger and then bites Steve’s jaw. “Such a pretty boy.”

Steve whines, not recognizing himself in the mirror. Billy’s sliding in another finger as his tongue soothes the tender skin his teeth assaulted, eyes trained on Steve’s flushed face. Billy’s fingers twist and prod until they hit a spot inside of Steve he didn’t know existed and he cries out, vision blurring as Billy continuously rubs at the spot. The stupidly gorgeous face he sees in the mirror looks smug, but Steve’s a little too preoccupied to be mad at it. Hell, he barely notices when Billy’s adding a third digit to his hole. Steve whimpers out, knuckles turning white where he’s gripping tightly onto the countertop.

Hargrove bites at his jaw again, thrusting his fingers in quick succession and each time they poke Steve’s prostate he moans, feeling his eyes cross as his cock springs back to life. He scissors his fingers, stretching Steve’s hole as he groans lowly and rolls his hips.

“Think you’re ready?” Billy asks, voice teetering on desperation and it’s really nice to hear. Steve’s nodding his head, all the panic from before evaporated at this point.

Billy pulls his fingers out and Steve fucking whines, more pathetic than he’s sounded all night. It’s short lived, Billy’s quick with slathering his cock in the oil and pressing his head to Steve’s eager hole. Obviously, his cock is thicker than his fingers and Steve’s feeling that panic return but Billy pushes the head through and Steve cries out, tears prickling his eyes at the sensation because it is painful but his balls tighten from it and his eyes roll back. It’s painful in the delicious kind of way. He couldn’t even remember Nancy’s name in this moment if he tried. Heads empty, nobodies home. Just clouds of God, that’s nice and oh, wow there’s a cock in my ass. Billy’s hand meets his throat again and he purrs in Steve’s ear, “Look at me.”

Steve didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes, but he opens them and his vision is flooded with the reflection of himself, Billy’s face pressed next to his and that leather clad hand around his neck. He looks to Billy’s eyes in the mirror, a little upset with how much it makes his heart swell. Steve’s easy. Billy saw he was upset and did something to make him forget about it. Fuck, he might be in love. Nope. Steve, stop it.

Billy sinks in a little deeper, draining the air of Steve’s lungs as he does so, “Fuck!”

“I was right, huh?” Billy says, breathless as his face contorts in pleasure.

“Uh huh,” Steve breathes, would agree with anything the blonde says at this point. His heads all warm and fuzzy and Billy’s really pretty. The angles of his face irritated Steve before, got a hint of jealousy in his gut but now he just wants to touch them.

Hargrove groans, digging his nails into Steve’s hips as he drives deeper into the brunette, “So fucking tight.”

And then the head of his cock meets with Steve’s prostate and Steve’s eye roll back in his head. He would’ve collapsed to the floor if it wasn’t for the grip Billy has on him. Doesn’t realize he’s crying again until Billy licks his cheeks again, hips still as he allows Steve to adjust to his length. Hargrove’s breath is heavy on his face, fanning across his sticky cheek in waves. Billy starts rolling his hips, languid and deep and each stroke makes Steve feel like he’s floating higher and higher away. His reflection looks as fucked out as he feels, his eyes glazed over and wide, lips parted in an O and his cheeks are wildly flushed. But this sensation is fucking otherworldly and his cocks at full attention, begging to be touched even though he just came. His chest feels tight while he spews out these breathless and high pitched moans. Hargrove looks as smug as can be, cheek pressed against Steve’s with this fucking grin on his face, like he’s so proud of himself.

“When I heard about you,” Billy grunts, “I didn’t think you’d be this fucking easy.” He punctuates the last word with a particularly rough thrust that’s got Steve’s toes curling in his shoes.

Steve couldn’t talk if he tried, brains too fuzzy with euphoria and fuck, is he drooling? Yep, he is. A string of saliva drips from his lips down onto the bathroom counter but he can’t be bothered to wipe his face, he can’t fucking move at all besides his hips. They keep pushing back to meet Billy’s thrusts.

Hargrove wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock and strokes him at the same pace he’s drilling into him. And fuck, fuck, oh fuck. Steve cries out, eyes squeezing shut as he spills spunk all over Billy’s fist. He’s never cum that quick in his life. He’s out to lunch, man. Seeing stars, seeing God. When he’s coming back to earth, Hargrove’s laughing, clearly pleased with himself. He bends Steve over the counter and hammers into him, hard and quick. The roughness of his hips slamming into the counter launch sharp pain down his legs and he’s crying out again, gripping onto the counter for dear fucking life. And then a totally new sensation has him babbling and moaning as Billy fills him with spunk, a guttural grunt falling on Steve’s ears. But as quick as he feels it, it’s gone. Billy’s pulling out of him and he feels a little pat on his head before he hears the door open and close. Steve sinks down to the floor, curling up in the fetal position as he processes what the fuck just happened. And he’s sobbing some more, his heart twisting with a pain he’s never felt before. His thighs are slick and sticky and his ass is fucking sore but worse than that, he’s alone. Steve feels used up, stupid and more confused than he’s ever been.

#harringrove #harringrove smut #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy x steve #request

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buckysgrace · 2 months

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Work It Out

Challenged by @sadhours for my first ever Harringrove piece so here we goooo :)

Warnings: Handjobs, masturbation, semi public masturbation, lots of pining

Steve is bad at measuring.

The morning had been slow. The math class he sat in was even more tedious as he continued to find himself staring off towards the back of Carol’s head. He wondered if she knew about the tiny pieces of lint that had settled at the bottom of her red strands. He doubted it.

He’d already finished his assignment for the day, finding it easier to deal with numbers than anything else. He enjoyed reading, but he thought the literature discussions were dumb. Full of fake answers that people thought of to look smarter than what they actually were.

His eyes drifted about, scanning briefly over the various math posters and examples on the board until he settled over the large windows. He stared at them for a moment, longing to feel the warm sun on him once again. He hated the weather now, hated how the sun could look so hot and warm but still be cold outside. He didn’t get it. He missed his home.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pencil tapping. He moved his eyes in that direction, taking in the messy haired boy who seemed to be deep in thought. He clearly hadn’t knocked his assignment out, as he actually looked to be struggling with it.

He liked looking at Steve. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did. He liked tracing his eyes over Steve’s moles and soft lips. He liked his dark eyebrows, his strong nose and how he chewed on his eraser when he tried to seek the answers to whichever problem he was stuck on.

The sunlight dipped in through the windows, lighting Steve into a golden haze that danced off of his warm skin. He was tapping his pencil against his textbook, his lips moving softly as he repeated the question over and over again.

Billy was enamored with the way Steve’s lips moved. They were pink, curved softly and decorated with the prettiest cupid's bow he’d ever seen. Billy had an urge to trace them, to rub his finger across Steve’s lips until he tired of the feeling. He wondered if Steve would lean against him, if he’d pull him closer. He dreamt of Steve gripping his wrist and kissing each of his fingertips, his brown eyes locked onto Billy’s the whole time.

Steve paused mid tap, shook his shoulders and then quickly jerked his head in Billy’s direction. Billy snapped his head back down to his desk, narrowly avoiding the inquisitive look on Steve’s features as he rolled his tongue around in his mouth.

He pressed his fingertips together, doing his best to keep from shaking as he suddenly felt the dire need for a cigarette. He felt a warmth flowing through him, spreading from the top of his forehead down to the tips of his toes as he felt Steve’s eyes lingering for just a moment. Just a small second. Just enough to make him feel like he was losing his sanity.

Billy couldn’t help the ache that formed in his chest every time he looked at Steve, bitter and angry that he wasn’t able to control his feelings. He couldn’t understand why Steve had such an affect on him, why he was the only person that made Billy feel like he could be wanted.

He’d push him in the halls, shoving him up against walls and lockers as he passed through. If Billy got the chance, he’d tug on Steve’s hair and steal the dessert from his tray with little to no protest from the brunette. Sometimes he’d lean forward in his chair and mock him, only feeling proud when Steve would audibly sigh and roll his eyes. The days that Steve smarted back to him were his favorite. He felt like Steve actually saw him on those days.

It was hopeless. Billy knew it was, no matter how tightly he clung to his hope that he may have some sort of chance. Billy saw the girls that Steve dated, saw how he interacted with other guys on the basketball team. His eyes never lingered, never wandered or became suspicious. He wasn’t interested. He wasn’t messed up in the ways Billy was.

He’d had odd feelings before, but they had never been as strong as what they were now. He felt like he was in middle school again, like he’d just discovered what it was like to have a crush on someone. The way he acted around Steve was the same way he acted around girls when he was too young to know what his feelings meant. He knew what they meant now. It scared him.

Steve made it hard to concentrate during games, during school; just seeing him walking in the hall made Billy’s heart seize. It was ridiculous. He hated himself for it. It only made him angrier, made him wonder where his lines had gotten crossed.

He was too tired to dip back into his conflicting thoughts on who he liked. He still liked girls, but Steve made him think that he could like men too. That he could be with someone who was who had similar parts to him. He wanted it to be okay.

“What did you get on number four?” Steve’s arm was on his desk suddenly, nearly smearing Billy’s neat handwriting as he lazily rested there. Billy stared at the moles on Steve’s arm for a moment before he found the courage to face him, his mouth suddenly dry in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

His eyes were brown, but in the sunlight they looked like warm honey. Almost golden. It reminded him of the hot sun on the beach, of how he used to just close his eyes and absorb the rays from the sun.

“S’not any of your business,” Billy piped back, finally able to speak as he pressed his fingertips against Steve’s elbow to shove him away, “Not my fault you don’t know how to count.” He snapped back, instantly feeling his insides crush into tiny pieces at the way Steve’s expression fell.

He watched, feeling frozen in his spot as Steve gave a shrug of his shoulders and slumped back into his seat. He kicked his long legs apart, spreading them as he brought his pencil back against his desk and began to tap again. He didn’t work on the assignment the rest of class; just avoided looking at Billy the same way that Billy was avoiding looking at him.

Two weeks passed before Billy had his next bump in with Steve. He avoided him in the halls, in the classrooms. He acted like he didn’t exist during basketball practice. It hurt. It made him feel sick. He missed the warm way Steve smiled, how his eyes lit up when he got excited. He missed watching Steve brush his fingers through his thick hair, how he’d occasionally tug on the locks if he got too deep into his thoughts.

“You’re doing that wrong.” Billy pointed out as he leered over Steve’s shoulder, watching the way he was incorrectly setting up his geometry problem. Billy tilted his head, sure that Steve had incorrectly measured all of his angles.

“I can count,” Steve replied through barred lips, looking irritated as he spared a glance up in Billy’s direction. Billy felt the corners of his mouth twitch, his stomach fluttering as their eyes met, “I know.” He mumbled as he turned away.

Billy watched him for a moment, expecting him to correct it as Steve kept his pencil pointed at the paper. He felt a laugh bubbling in his chest as Steve quickly dropped his palms onto his paper to hide his work away.

“I don’t think you’re doing anyone a favor there,” Billy snorted, wondering if Steve was the reason that Tommy had failed so many of his classes, “You’re supposed to use centimeters, not inches.” He reminded him, hoping that Steve may realize the error of his ways on his own.

“Since when?” Steve furrowed his eyebrows together, then squinted his pretty brown eyes as he held the paper up to examine it. Billy paused before he settled his legs over one of the extra stools.

“Says it right there,” Billy pointed out to the top of the paper as he straddled a stool next to Steve. He stared at the words, trying not to focus on the feeling of his knee pressed against Steve’s thigh, “You’re not labeling your units either. That’s why you got this problem wrong.”

“Oh,” Steve drew out softly, blinking as he examined the directions again, “Right. I see that.” He mumbled as he took a hold of his pencil, twisting it around a few times between his fingers before he began to erase what he’d already worked on.

“When you measure,” Billy began as Steve pulled his ruler up to the triangle, “You should start here. The numbers come out more accurate this way.” He explained, his fingers lightly pressing against the ruler to drag it down to the correct spot. He watched the way Steve’s fingers twitched away before their hands could meet, like he was too nervous.

“Alright, yeah, I guess,” Steve mumbled as he shook his head, “Is your mom like a teacher or something?” He grumbled but looked to be more jealous than anything, like he wished that he had something similar. Billy snorted in response, wishing that it was that easy.

“She’s dead.” Billy said simply, unable to hide the bitterness and anger that rolled off of his tongue. She wasn’t dead. Rosemary was very much alive, he was sure of that. But to him, she was dead.

“Oh,” Steve’s brown eyes widened, his jaw going slack as he looked at him stunned, “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.” He spit out quickly, a flush settling over his cheeks as he seemed to be trying to dig himself out of the hole he’d just created.

“S’fine, it’s none of your business anyways,” Billy brushed him off quickly, “That number is way too small.” He changed the subject quickly, not wanting to linger on thoughts of his mom. It was easier to point out Steve’s mistake.

“It’s-,” Steve huffed in frustration as he erased his answer hurriedly again, “Funny you say that, considering that’s the size of your dick.” He grumbled to himself, like it was supposed to be some sort of insult. Billy stared at him for a moment, certain that he had heard the brunette wrong.

“My dick is not that small,” Billy defended himself, “Plus, yours is even smaller than that.” He said quickly, not wanting to be stuck in some rumor over having a small dick. His was not small.

“I do not have a small dick,” Steve huffed out, his cheeks beginning to burn, “I have a large one. Eleven inches, actually.” He replied proudly, dropping his pencil like that was the last word. Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Your dick is not eleven inches.” He dismissed Steve as he shook his head. He hadn’t seen what Steve was packing, but he was quite confident in his answer. There was no way.

“How would you know?” Steve challenged, “Are you peeking?” He asked quickly, looking a little horrified as he moved a hand over his junk. Billy felt his eyes widen, his heart falling to the floor in panic.

“No,” Billy spit out quickly, “There’s just no way you were blessed like that.” He said at last, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t approached in the first place. Why did he approach? He was suddenly reminded of how annoying Steve was.

“I’ll show you,” Steve said, then briefly paused, “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant like, I will prove to you how long my dick is. By measuring it with you.” He spit out awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal.

“Doesn’t sound very exciting.” Billy replied dryly, though he could feel a certain jolt rushing down his body. He mentally cursed himself, unable to believe that his body was getting excited over something so dumb.

“Are you scared that I’m right about something?”Steve challenged, looking like he was quick to defend himself. Billy raised an eyebrow, but kept himself from retorting that he didn’t think Steve’s counting skills were all that.

“You’re on.” Billy said at last, unable to stop himself as he slowly dragged his eyes away from Steve’s amused ones and landed on his pink lips instead. He was fucked.

They both waited until practice was over and everyone else had left. Billy felt odd sitting around in his towel so long and had hastily decided to redress himself. He already knew how big his dick was, he had nothing to prove.

“See,” Steve proclaimed proudly, “Eleven inches.” He grinned from ear to ear, looking entirely too cocky as he held his ruler against his dick. Billy looked up at him incredulously.

“You can’t count the balls.” He pointed out, feeling like it was a known rule to keep from measuring your balls. It didn’t count, not at all.

“That’s part of my dick!” Steve protested, “It so does count.” He gestured back towards himself, looking a little angry as he stared at his cock. It had been awkward waiting earlier, as Steve had swore that the only right way to measure himself was by getting hard. Billy had waited on the opposite side of the lockers, sure that Steve was probably beating his dick to some old memory.

“Here,” Billy grumbled as he yanked the ruler free from Steve’s grasp, fully lost in the need to prove him wrong, “You start here and place it here.” He directed him, his eyes slightly widening at the realization that his fingers were brushing against Steve’s dick. Steve lurched forward, a shrill whine leaving his lips at the same time. Billy gulped, feeling his own cock hardening in his pants.

“I-,” Steve gulped, “I’m sorry, I just-,” Billy cut him off again, his body warming as he slowly wrapped his fingers around Steve’s girth. Steve gasped again, his tone shrill as he jerked his hips forward. He rutted himself against Billy’s palm for a moment, his features wrinkled in bliss.

Billy felt his heart hammering in his chest, beating against his ribs and nearby organs as he stared down at both of their bodies. He knew it was dangerous, knew that anyone could walk in at any time. He didn’t care. He was too last in the moment, in the thrill of keeping Steve’s gaze on him.

“What was that?” He hummed softly as he moved behind Steve, feeling his confidence grow at the whiny sounds that left Steve’s mouth. He pressed his chest against Steve’s back, soaking in the warmth from the other boy as he felt his own cock aching in his jeans. He fought the urge to rock his hips forward, to grind against Steve.

“It feels,” Steve gulped harshly as Billy tilted his head, looking at how his eyes grew hazy and his cheeks pink, “It feels good.” He groaned, his eyes flashing in desperation as he turned towards Billy again.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Billy mumbled from against his mouth, his lips slightly dragging against Steve’s warm skin as he moved his hand from Steve’s cock and towards the other side of his hips, “Go ahead.” He urged the brunette, enjoying the soft croon that fell from Steve’s lips as he wrapped his long fingers around his leaking cock.

Billy watched in fascination, doing all that he could to keep from rubbing himself up against Steve’s soft backside as he slowly began to stroke himself in his hand. Billy dragged his fingers across Steve’s waist at the same time, enjoying the hot sensation that grew from his touch.

“Oh,” Steve trembled against him, his pink lips pouting out into a breathless moan as he rocked his hips forward to meet the rough movements from his hand. Billy exhaled softly before he pressed his tongue against the crook of Steve’s neck, licking away his sweat as Steve once again let free a whimper, “Fuck.”

Billy felt like the room had grown far too hot, almost blistering as he found his fingers twitching against the skin near Steve’s belly button. He kept reminding himself that he was okay, that he wasn’t actually doing anything. He wouldn’t let himself, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“You’re such a good princess,” Billy teased, watching the way Steve rapidly blinked his hazy eyes, “Such a good cock slut, aren’t you?” He felt his own desire pooling into his stomach, the lust growing deep inside of his chest. He wanted Steve, in a way he’d never wanted anyone else before.

Steve turned towards Billy then, his brown eyes shot and filled with lust as he parted his pink lips as another moan fell from his tongue. Billy felt himself digging his fingers deeper into Steve’s flesh, enjoying the feeling of Steve’s warm breath rolling over his features. He smelt like bubblegum.

Their noses brushed against one another’s as Steve moved his hand faster along his cock, his eyebrows furrowing together as he writhed against Billy’s touch. Billy felt his own mouth parting, nearly feeding the temptation of meshing his mouth against Steve’s.

He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, as if he could lick away Steve’s heavenly sounds as he pressed himself closer against Steve’s round ass. He squeezed at his flesh, anchoring himself from moving any closer as Steve continued to rut into his hand.

“S’yeah,” Steve spit out, looking a little desperate as Billy continued to drag his fingers in the hair underneath Steve’s belly button, “I’m your cock slut.” He whined as he twisted his hand a little harder, moaning at how easily he moved his hand along the length of his cock.

Billy was sure the sounds that Steve was making would forever haunt him. He’d never hear anything as melodic, as sinful and full of want and need again. It was better than the songs that he listened to. He savored the sound in his ears, praying that he’d never forget them as his cock continued to throb in his jeans.

“Oh, oh,” Steve grunted as he moved his hand faster, his eyebrows knitting tightly together as he cried out, “Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming! Oh fuck!” He hissed entirely too loud, his whole body thrusting forward as he reached his eye.

Billy groaned, watching the thick globs of cum shoot out against the lockers. Steve painted them white as he shook, falling back against Billy’s grasp as he continued to whine and plead. His moans were nonsensical, broken apart as he tried to catch his breath.

Billy pulled away for a moment, listening to the rough way Steve was breathing as he reached between his thighs. Steve halted, freezing as Billy scooped up a glob of cum onto his finger. Steve’s eyes were wide, shot as he watched Billy bring it up to his mouth.

Billy parted Steve’s lips slowly, utterly in awe with how Steve had such a slutty mouth. He had a craving to feel his lips against Steve’s, but he ignored it. Instead he pushed his spunk covered finger through Steve’s open lips, fighting back a groan at the way Steve instantly began to suck on it.

He watched the way Steve’s eyes darkened, how they gleamed like they awaited Billy's approval. Billy felt his air hitching in his lungs, enamored with the way Steve licked his finger clean. He allowed himself a second to savor Steve’s mouth around his finger, knowing that he’d picture Steve’s lips around his cock later.

“S’not bad,” Billy mumbled softly, unable to pull himself away as Steve seemed to creep closer to him, “You’ve got it all worked out now.”

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