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“Get off me, asshole.”
That’s the first thing Billy grunts after he comes down from his orgasmic bliss. It’s certainly not the most romantic thing Steve has ever heard after sex, but he’ll take it, since he’s actually glad Billy’s even there after he decided to stupidly confess his feelings for him. Like this is Billy Hargrove, what was he expecting? So he rolls over, is met with the infamous wet spot (why is there a wet spot on his bed when it’s the fucking size of Texas, he doesn’t know), and gets up to shower. When he comes out of the bathroom, Billy’s gone.
Steve guesses he has it coming. Nevertheless, it hurts.
*
He can’t exactly say their relationship evolves , from then, not really, but he realizes Billy sometimes stays for a cigarette after, and once, he even asked Steve if he wanted one. He becomes kinder . Steve doesn’t wanna get his hopes up, he knows how that ended the last time, but either he’s the best fuck Billy has ever had and the abilities of his dick alone are making Billy be nice or Billy is warming up to him. They're still a long way to becoming friends, but they can share a silence and smoke, so Steve counts it as a win.
He uses that time to reflect on exactly how fucked up it is that he fell for Billy Hargrove and to evaluate to what point can he blame the upside down shit for it. Turns out he ends up with a whole list of stuff he likes about Billy instead.
*
“Goddamn, Harrington, you fuck like a beast.”
Steve looks at Billy's nape from his position on top of his body, surprised.
“Don't let it go to your head, and get off me,” he ends. Steve pulls out, still confused, tosses the condom away and rolls on the bed a bit, just so he doesn't land on the wet spot (really, where does it come from?). Billy turns around and pulls his head onto his own shoulder, reaches out for his cigarettes, offers one up to Steve, takes one out himself and lights them up. Steve, muscles stiff and position weird from tension, takes a drag, and when he's positive he's not gonna be thrown around for daring to touch Billy when they're not fucking, he relaxes into a comfortable position on his shoulder, watches as Billy's lips curl around the cigarette and let the smoke out.
“Like a beast, huh? That good?” he says, teasing.
Billy lets out a laugh, and Steve adds it to the list of things he likes about him.
“Yeah, Harrington, that good.”
Steve hides his smile with another drag.
*
“You fooled around with other dudes in California?” Steve dares to ask, one night.
“What?”
“I mean, you seemed so full of yourself when you got to Hawkins, like you had experience, but I've never actually seen you take a girl anywhere, so I guessed you had. Not that I care or anything. Well I mean, I care, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't but like…”
“Nico. His name was Nico.” Steve stops talking, lets out a little “oh” of acknowledgement. Billy isn't looking when he keeps talking, but Steve is, notices a shift in his expression, like he's sad and happy and nostalgic all at the same time. “He was like a dream, tall and handsome, with that kind of laugh that makes you think you'd do anything to hear it again.” Billy pauses, insecure.
“You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to,” Steve says.
“I'm not gonna,” he retorts. He uses his mouth for other things the rest of the night.
*
“I met Nico when we were fifteen. I never liked girls, you know how it is.” Steve doesn't, but he stays silent, makes a noise as to tell Billy he's listening. They've started to share cigarette breaks at school, so Billy keeps his voice down. “He was everything I needed. A brother to protect me, a friend to laugh with me, a confidant to protect my secrets. And later, a lover to accept me.”
“What happened?”
Billy smiles a crooked grin.
“Dad found out,” he says. He lets the cigarette fall to the floor, steps on it and walks away.
*
“God… you feel so good…”
“Fuck, harder, Harrington, c'mon.”
Steve thrusts harder, slowly comes out and thrusts again. Billy whimpers. Steve's realizing all the sounds Billy's starting to make. He used to be almost silent during sex, but now he moans and grunts and sighs at Steve's attentions. He also lets him fuck him face to face, which is good, because Steve is positive he hasn't seen a more beautiful thing than Billy's face when he comes.
Steve lets out a sigh with the shape of his name and Billy closes his eyes, throws his head back and opens his mouth as Steve wraps a hand around Billy's cock and he feels close, so closecloseclose that he goes all pliant against Steve, who thrusts even harder, moves his hand faster, and as he feels Billy come, he hears a slight “Steve…” from those parted lips that makes him come too.
Panting, eyes closed, Billy grabs Steve by the waist and brings him closer to him
*
“You have one of those laughs too,” Steve says, around a cigarette at school. Billy looks at him like a deer in the headlights. “I thought that you should know,” he adds, and lets out the smoke like it's nothing.
“Don't say that to me,” Billy answers, but Steve doesn't care, because he's had enough of doing what he's told.
“You already knew how I felt,” Steve continues, as if this conversation isn't almost the most difficult one he's had in his entire life, “so why did you stay, if you didn't want to hear it?”
“You're a good fuck. And I can risk to look for another one.”
“Okay,” he pauses, “then look me in the eyes and tell me this is bullshit, and I'll start smoking somewhere else and I'll change the key from under the flowerpot,” he says finally, “because I can't do this again.”
“My dad's a monster,” Billy says, instead.
“I've faced monsters before,” he retorts.
“Not like him,” Billy assures him.
“No. They were worse. So tell me you wanna keep listening to me, or tell me all of this is bullshit. And I'll take care of your dad. I bet you'd look better without bruises on your ribs.”
Billy looks at him. They've never talked about that.
“I'm not running away, Billy. Are you?”
Billy loses himself into Steve’s eyes and sighs.
“No. I'm not.”