#harringrove drabble | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thissortofsorcery · 11 months

Text

Billy and Steve spending a lazy day at home. Summer, shirts off, Billy's hair in a bun.

Steve's head on Billy's chest, nails scratching lightly at his belly, eyes on the tv but thoughts far away.

In the kitchen, fingertips touching shoulders, hands on waists, baby can you hand me a glass, does this taste okay, spoon held in the air, a stolen kiss tasting of a homecooked meal.

Feet on Steve's lap, careful hands stroking tired arches, thumbs finding valleys to rest on, fingertips teasing soles.

A shower that lasts too long because it's for two, lips meeting under water, chest to chest, sighs that only they can hear.

A king-sized bed, smiles being traded so close they're almost pressed together, laughs shared like secrets, the light from the night stand washing the night with a warm glow. The sides of the bed are empty, the center is packed tight, pressed close, well loved.

An entire day together, never far from each other, always touching. Warm and safe, soft and kind and happy.

How did I find you?

I didn't think I'd get to have this.

But they did.

#i'm emotional this weekend #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #sorcery writes #mine

288 notes · View notes

shieldofiron · 1 year

Note

I’m totally projecting here since I have a stutter-

Maybe billy who has a stutter and Neil decided to beat that shit out of him, so that’s why billy speaks so slow (I do too), he has to slowly think out every word,

So maybe when he goes to the Byers’ house he gets so upset he starts stuttering? Before the fight? Like uh “is t-that you har-Harrington?” And Steve goes to make fun of him or something, but then he realizes the look of Billy’s face. A mixture of fear and anger at himself, and he stops

Maybe a flash to the future where Billy doesn’t have to think about every word and can speak the way he wants to, with his loving husbando Steve?

🥰🥺

1984

Billy smiles, slow and languorous, "Is that you, Harrington?"

"Yeah. It's me, don't cream your pants," Harrington bit the words out and stepped down the tiny wooden porch.

He put his hands on his hips, tossing that pretty long brown hair back a little, and squaring up, shoulders tight.

Billy glanced back at the house and saw a flash of red hair in the window.

Motherfucker.

Billy looked back to Steve. What the hell was this? Why wasn't Max just coming out? She had to know that it was late, that her mom would be pissed she wasn't home.

Billy sucked in a breath

"W-what are you doing h-h-here," Billy tried to suck in a deep breath, "Amigo."

Cool Billy, He thought, Really cool. You totally covered it with the Amigo.

Harrington's lip curled a little, "What was that, Hargrove?"

The words seemed to stop up in Billy's throat, pile up and stick with jagged edges.

"M-My step sister," He manages to get out. "S-she..."

Harrington's grinning in that sort of shit eating way that precludes a set down, and it has Billy's fists tightening. He can feel his face getting red, and his stomach starts buzzing. He looks back at Max and she's trying to be hidden. He doesn't understand.

"L-Little B-birdy," Billy sucks in a breath, "T-told me that sh-she..."

That grin starts to falter a little. Harrington steps back just a bit, puts his hand out, palm open.

"Hey," Harrington says softly, "It's okay. Um... it's okay. She's here, but... there's a lot of shit going on tonight."

Billy tightens his fist and then releases it. Once. Twice. Three times.

"G-gotta bring h-her home," Billy's tongue feels a little less stuck in his throat at least. Harrington waits for a moment, watching like he's giving Billy time to add anything he needs to.

"I swear she's okay, she's not hurt," Harrington lays a hand over his heart, making those bambi eyes wide and sweet in a way Billy's never seen before, "Why don't you come inside and I'll explain?"

---

1994

"It was killer, Steve," Billy traces a secret pattern in Steve's chest hair, "Cherry, with the most well preserved original chrome. An actual St-Stingray. I almost came the moment I touched it."

"Almost, huh?" Steve's voice rumbles across Billy's skin, "So does that mean you're all... pent up?"

Billy turns onto his stomach and rests his chin on Steve's stomach, "You're ruining my story, horndog."

"I'm just listening to the details," Steve smiles down at him, "Tell me the story."

"It had a cream and c-cherry interior. Cherry red dash. Custom, Steve," Billy leans hard on his chin, trying to impress on Steve the seriousness of the situation, "Custom? In Indiana? Do you know how hard that is to do?"

Steve smiles, "Not if you know the right guy."

Billy smiles back, "Oh yeah? The right guy? And who would that be?"

"Well... he's cool," Steve runs a hand along Billy's bicep, tracing the heart that reads, 'Mad Max.'

"Of course," Billy shrugs.

"And he's humble," Steve smirks.

"Gotta be humble. Being humble is the best."

"And he's..." Steve's eyes get darker, "So passionate. About cars, I mean."

Billy smiles, slow and languorous.

"And I am very," Steve leans in and kisses Billy's forehead, "Very. In love with... the interior he installed in my car."

Billy dug his fingers into Steve's side until Steve squirmed, his knees drawing up and his laughter crackling off the walls of their bedroom.

"You dick," Billy cries, huffing and letting him go.

"Maybe... I was thinking tonight we could start with your dick first," Steve licks his lips, "I have some oral skills I want to show off."

Billy purses his lips, "Oh, Steve. Oral skills are definitely my specialty."

Steve just smirks, cocky as ever, "Oh you're so on. Amigo."

---

@hickory-smoked-ass SO CUTE! SUCH CUTIES!

I didn't want Billy's stutter to "magically" disappear at the end, more like it doesn't trip him up so much when it happens. Because Steve loves him, a little stutter doesn't matter.

#asks #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove drabble #billy x steve #cutiesssss

130 notes · View notes

chrisbitchtree · 2 years

Text

Soft vibes with a little bit of smut at the end to cap off a relaxing weekend, before I head into the workweek from hell! Enjoy!

***

There isn’t much that Billy likes in this world more than showering with Steve. He loves to take care of the brunette in so many different ways. Cooking for him, making sure he gets his exercise by making him come along when Billy goes for a morning jog, massaging his feet after Steve’s spent a long day on his feet at his job as a high school art teacher.

But Billy’s favourite way to take care of Steve is to wash him. It’s Sunday evening, and Steve is going to have a busy week, with parent teacher interviews, so Billy wants to give him a bit of peace first.

He starts by stripping them both bare as the water heats to the correct temperature. Once it’s ready, he pulls Steve in with him, getting him positioned under the spray, where the hot water massages the tension from his shoulders.

Billy helps, standing beside him and digging his fingers in, getting the especially stubborn knots, not stopping until Steve lets out a slow moan.

Then, he lays trails of kisses all over Steve’s body, aiming to press his lips to every single mole dotting his skin.

Next is the shampoo. He take a big palmful of Steve’s favourite apple scented shampoo and lathers Steve’s hair up, really working it in, before tilting his head back to rinse it out.

While the conditioner is working its magic, Billy grabs Steve’s big pink loofah and uses it to scrub Steve from head to toe with his current Bath and Bodywork’s favourite, making sure he’s squeaky clean.

He pays special attention to Steve’s asscheeks, pressing in between them with a soapy finger. Steve lets out a startled squeak before pressing back into the intrusion.

“You like that, Princess?” Billy asks, whispering against Steve’s ear. He knows Steve does, can see it in the way his long pink cock stiffens up in response to Billy’s ministrations.

“Yeah, Bills, I like it, feels so good,” he manages to get out, sounding breathless. Billy grabs hold of his prize, giving it a couple tugs before getting down on his knees.

“Don’t have to do that, baby,” Steve says softly, looking like he wants nothing more in the world than for Billy to take him into his mouth. “Gonna get me all dirty again.”

“Not if there aren’t any spills,” Billy replies, winking, before taking Steve all the way in one go, in a practised move. Steve’s knees buckle, and Billy grabs hold of his hips to keep him standing.

It doesn’t take Steve long to let go, between Billy sucking on him like a lollipop and fondling his balls just how he likes it. He spills into Billy’s eager mouth and he swallows it down, keeping his promise of no mess.

With one of Steve’s hands pinching his nipples, and the other wrapped around Billy’s fist, Billy cums with a soft cry, spilling against the shower tiles.

They rinse off and Billy dries Steve off with a plush towel before wrapping him up in his fluffy white bathrobe.

They eat pancakes and bacon for dinner, their joint favourite, fully relaxed and content. Tomorrow, the stresses and frustrations of the real world will return, but for now, there’s just the two of them in their own quiet little universe.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove drabble #lemon #chrisbitchtree writes

129 notes · View notes

cavinginhisfvce · 1 year

Text

'The Fated"

Pairing: Harringrove. Soulmate!AU.

Tw: implied child abuse. brief violence.

Soulmate!AU where the first time a pair of soulmates experience prolonged touch, they're given all the memories of their past lives with one another, if they have any.

It's almost a myth for soulmates to meet repeatedly in different lives, but if two souls truly belong together, they will meet again.

Destiny makes sure of it. They call them The Fated.

Billy, who meets Steve and has no idea the older boy is his soulmate until Steve's beneath him, bloody, and gasping, his frame thrashing with futile attempts of hoisting the blond off of him.

Steve is the first one to experience the cold that overtakes you, his body going stiff as flashes of distorted images dance in his mind.

Billy has his arms wrapped tightly around Steve's waist, a wide smile on his lips as the brunet tries half-heartedly to shove him away, murmurs of dinner being almost done ringing like bells in his ears.

None of the kids seem to notice that the lack of movement on Steve's end isn't a result of Billy's fists, until Billy is also just as frozen, his eyes widening.

Everyone knows the signs of two Fated soulmates meeting for the first time, legend says both become almost like statutes, the only indication of life being their rising and falling chests.

Teachers scold young students who gossip about it in the halls, all of them wondering if they'll be one of the lucky ones. Someone who has found their soulmate over, and over, no matter what life has thrown at them.

Steve has his arm held above his head, a piece of paper dangling between his fingertips as Billy reaches for it. She's on her tippy toes, pouting when the mystery sheet strays further from her grasp. "Asshole! Give me my damn essay back. I have to turn it in!"

Steve just laughs loudly, finally lowering his hand, as well as his head. "Gimme a kiss and I'll think about it, Dolly."

In the assortment of memories, neither of them look as they do currently, especially in the last memory, but it's obvious who they are.

It's obvious even when Billy is almost a foot shorter than him, and in place of a flat chest is a set of impressive boobs.

They can tell who was who, they can feel the love each had for the other. It's somehow foreign and familiar.

Billy, despite going under last, is first to break out of the trance, his hands shaking as he scrambles to move from his place on Steve's lap. His eyes are no less wide as he scans the boy for any serious injuries. He lets out a soft sigh when he finds nothing aside from the minor blossoming of bruises and blood trickling from his nose.

He's glad the plate he grabbed early on had slipped from his hand, and shattered at their feet instead of over his soulmate's head.

Once Steve has come to, he searches the room almost frantically with his eyes. Brown eyes find blues, and all Steve can do is stare.

The room is silent, the air thick as all the kids wait with bated breaths for whatever was set to happen next.

Billy is wholly unprepared for Steve to stand up on shaky legs, and stalk over to him, a flash of determination on his features. His body wants to be afraid, wants to be on guard. But his heart? It has other plans, it stays rooted in its place, even when Steve is cupping his cheeks and leaning in.

He doesn't kiss Billy, much to the blond's displeasure, instead he whispers softly, "My Dolly…"

The younger just barely bites back the smile tugging on his lips, a soft scoff leaving him, "Asshole. That assignment was late because of you."

Steve for his part, laughs out loud. It's a warm, saccharine sound that has Billy's insides turning to goo. He wants to hear it everyday, every second.

Someone clears their throat and walks up to the pair. Without turning his head, Billy knows it's Max. Which serves to do nothing but remind him of why he was there in the first place.

It's what has him stepping away from Steve, his eyes snapping to the redhead.

"We're leaving. Now, Maxine."

The younger girl just glares up at her brother, her eyes alight with defiance. "I'm not leaving until I know my friends are safe!"

A laugh bubbles from Billy, but it isn't filled with humor, it's dark, chilling.

"Max…" He says her name in a sing-song way, the same way he had the day he told Max he wouldn't hesitate to run her new friend group down.

She hadn't believed him, not even when he revved the engine. He didn't go further than that, as expected.

She tenses up, her lips set in a frown.

"Billy, please. I know I shouldn't have snuck out...but, I had to be here! They needed me…"

The girl isn't sure if her brother is even listening to her, he isn't the most rational person on a good day. And if the bruising eye he sported on his way in early is any indication, today is not a good day.

She watches as he tears his gaze from her, his piercing blue eyes landing on Steve.

"Harrington, I swear to God, if anyone touched Max, I'll kill you myself…" His words are punctuated with a growl, the meaning behind them unsaid, but they ring clear in Steve's ears.

He immediately squares his shoulders, shaking his head. "It's not like that, Billy. It'll never be like that, I swear." He trails off, noting the way Billy deflates only slightly.

"Then what the fuck is going on?"

Steve can hear the rest of the kids yelling in the background, telling him to shut up, to not say a word. But, all Steve can hear is the treble in Billy's voice when he spoke, all he can see is the haunted look in the ocean blue eyes. A look Steve may not know firsthand, but has seen in enough jaded, hurt people to identify as fear. The fear of whatever happened to them, happening to the person they're supposed to protect and look out for.

It's that look alone, that has Steve grabbing Billy's hand and tugging him to the Byers' freezer. He can see the look of confusion on his soulmate's face, but it quickly washes away when the taller boy tugs the door open; leaving the corpse of a monster only featured in a horror film's worst nightmare in full view.

There's a ringing in his ears, but it goes ignored when Steve starts recounting the events of the night. He tells him of their past dealing with creatures like this, he tells him about Will.

By the end, Steve is winded and Billy is gripping his hand so tightly, the brunet could feel the blood rushing to his fingertips, but he didn't let go, because Billy didn't let go.

It takes some convincing, but Steve eventually gets the kids to give them privacy, even if it meant promising they'd go to the tunnels, despite his earlier refusals.

When the kitchen is cleared, Billy all but flings himself into Steve's arms, his breathing pinched as he curls his fingers into the fabric of the taller boy's jacket.

He's not hyperventilating, which is good. But he's also shaking in Steve's hold. Steve can feel the wet heat of tears seeping into his shirt, but he doesn't lessen his hold. If anything it gets tighter.

Steve gets the overwhelming urge to cry after finding out about the Upside Down, he knows what it feels like to choke on the debilitating fear that comes with so much as imaging one of those things alive and gunning for you.

Obviously, he's had the displeasure of experiencing said fear in real time, but he understood the blond's reaction.

It took a few minutes, but Billy eventually calmed down enough to speak, his words were watery, but his eyes held a determination that Steve couldn't shake if he tried, "you said something about sentient tunnels?"

Again, Steve laughs, his body shaking against Billy's frame as the smaller boy smirks up at him.

"Glad to have you back, Little Lion."

There's a faint blush that dusts tanned skin, but he's quickly shaking his head, a huff spilling from his lips.

"Shut it, Pretty Boy."

"Make me."

Their eyes meet, and Billy can't do anything more but lean in, and press his lips to Steve's. There's almost a current of electricity, followed by a blanket of content, and wholeness. The feeling of two soulmates reconnecting.

It's the reuniting of a pair that lost each other, only to find their way back.

95 notes · View notes

pastorpresent · 2 years

Text

"I fucking hate you," Steve spat, glaring daggers at the blonde with his arms folded over his chest.

"Of course you do, baby," Billy purred, that annoying fucking smirk on his lips, and Steve wanted to punch it off. Still, when Billy gripped his waist and yanked him close he didn't resist, thumping his closed fist against the bare skin of his chest where he didn't button his stupid shirt all the way.

The skin was slick with sweat and beer, and it should be disgusting. All Steve wanted to do was lap it up.

"She couldn't of done anything for you anyway, sweetheart. Bet you wouldn't even be able to get it up."

Billy looked so damn arrogant, and Steve's anger spiked when he remembered the look on Nancy's face, utter horror and humiliation as Billy chucked open the bathroom door with that same damn smirk, knowing.

He had been watching him all night. He watched him dissapear with Nancy. It was so fucking... intentional. His eyes hadn't left Steve as Nancy shoved her clothes back on, pushing past Billy.

"You're a dick," Steve gritted, and then Billy was crowding him against the car, fingers wrapping tight around his neck, bruising.

Steve choked, but his dick immediately hardened, and Billy grinded against him.

"You're fucked. So fucked in the head, Stevie. You think that Wheeler priss is gonna want to get you off when she finds out what it takes? Think she can choke you out while you come? She hasn't got it in her."

Billy pressed tighter, sending Steve's vision swimming before he finally let go, leaving him gasping for air.

"B-illy," he begged. He hated himself, and Billy grinned, bringing his lit cigarette to his wrist.

Steve bit his tongue so to not scream out. Billy surged forward and kissed him, pressing harder, and Steve did cry out that time, right into Billy's mouth.

He spat, swirling it between their tongues as Steve spluttered, tried to squirm away only for Billy to force him back, nails scratching purposefully into his sides, breaking skin.

He licked a strip up his neck, pausing at his ear, fingers digging into his scalp.

"Come for me."

Steve did. Embarrassingly hard into his underwear, body going limp as his panted and all but collapsed against Billy's solid form.

"I see you with her again, I'll not let you come for a month," Billy spat, and Steve wanted to argue back. He wanted to spit in Billy's face and tell him he couldn't fucking stop him.

"Ok," he responded instead.

#obsessed w them atm sorry #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #harringrove smut #harringrove drabble #stancy #mywriting

232 notes · View notes

every-dayiwakeup · 2 years

Text

Steve gently takes Billy's broad shoulders, and the blonde just melts, like the ice cream Steve serves ungrateful brats (the ones he doesn't babysit).

"You're so easy," he observes as Billy lets himself become one with his carpet.

"You callin' me a slut, Harrington?" Billy purrs slow and sweet, his mouth quirking into a sorry attempt of regressing to his familiar scowl.

Try as he might, if he was trying to appear threatening, he wasn't succeeding.

Not at his current state; sprawled out under Steve with a dazed look in his eyes, his hair frizzed and sticking up in several different places, a lazy smile effortlessly spreading across his face.

Spending more time in the sun peppered his round cheeks and button nose with more freckles.

Steve snorts, shaking his head. His ponytail swats Billy, who swats back, hissing in surprise. This makes Steve's chuckle evolve into a full on laugh.

"Whatcha laughin' at?" Billy demands, squinting at him.

"You."

Billy turns red at that. "Well Harrington you ain't a pretty sight either-"

"It's not about how you look, jeez!" Steve assures him, and Billy huffs under him, yanking his chest hair.

The whole situation is just so outlandish, the pain only makes Steve laugh harder. "I just... can't believe anyone could ever be scared of you.You're literally so cute!"

He pokes the soft strip of exposed flesh covering Billy's abs, and the blonde yowls, blushing up to the tips of his ears. "'M not cute, dickhead."

"You are. I mean... you're pretty, too," Steve finds himself saying awkwardly. As if Hargrove doesn't have a big enough ego already.

"Shuddup," Billy mumbles. "Not cute."

"You repeating it doesn't make it any less true." Steve squishes his cheeks together, and Billy flips him the bird.

"My God, you're like a fucking cat. Wonder what happens if I do this?" Steve tickles the extra chub under Billy's chin, and a soft mewl is heard from the younger boy. "Face it Hargrove, you're as cute as a button."

"If you tell anyone..."

"Easy, Kitty," Steve snickers, poking his tummy again. Soft.

Both actions earns Steve a well earned sock to the jaw. The punch is a bit pitiful, but it's clear Billy is either very sensitive to touch... or maybe it's just that one part of his body that's sensitive.

Steve licks his lips as lewd thoughts play out in his swimming head. To be fair, whenever he was with Billy, he never stopped thinking questionable, sinful thoughts.

And then Billy barfs all over Steve. A grimace on his face, he says, "If you continue to think I'm cute covered in vomit, Harrington, I implore you to get help."

"Why'd ya...? And on me?"

"Because someone wearing socks with sandles makes me sick. What do you think, Steve?"

"That you have a vendetta against my chest hair?"

Billy proceeds looks at him like he's a cat about to spit up a hair ball out of sheer spite.

And perhaps Steve does need help, because all that he's thinking is, "Oh my God, he called me Steve!"

Tags:

@ouizzyharringrove

@hardestgrove

@whoringrove

@harringroveho

@emeraldwitches

@geormenia

@suspiciouslackofclowns

@jaethecreator

@polaris-ursae

@wixterirox

@lovebillyhargrove

172 notes · View notes

toxicrevolver · 2 years

Text

Billy is an “anything is breakfast food as long as its breakfast time” kind if person.

Steve is a “breakfast time is for stereotypical breakfast food and nothing else” type of person.

Have a little drabble bcs I have 5 minutes of confidence in my writing.

Also. Imma have to blame @prettyboybillyhargrove for making me wanna write something cute and fluffy and domestic after giving me nothing but angst posts yesterday.

Billy wakes Steve up at like 6:30 in the morning because he wants Steve’s homemade spaghetti for breakfast after his morning run. Steve grumbles awake and looks at Billy with the cutest glare. “Spaghetti isn’t breakfast food Billy. Why don’t you eat cereal or an omelette or something normal for breakfast?” Steve questions. Billy just looks at Steve with his best puppy dogs eyes because he knows the art of getting his way with the one and only Steve Harrington. Steve ends up folding under the pressure of Billy’s gaze and grumbles fully awake. He slides out of bed and stumbles to get ready, meanwhile Billy silently cheers to himself while he puts on his running shoes and heads for the door.

It’s now almost 8 am and the entire house smells like tomato sauce. Billy walks through the front door and immediately beelines for the kitchen so he can praise Steve for his amazing cooking. Steve whips around and glares at Billy, a ladle held in his hand threateningly, “if you come near me with that sweaty nastiness and get sweat in my tomato sauce I will smother you in your sleep. Go take a shower, the spaghetti will be done when you get back”. Billy holds his hands up in surrender, a giant smile plastered on his face. He spins around and bolts to the master bath and takes the fastest shower he swears he has ever taken. No more than 10 minutes later Billy heads back to the kitchen where the wonderful aroma of spaghetti originates from. He pads over to Steve, landing a soft kiss on Steves shoulder before reaching into the cabinets for plates. “Thank you” Billy whispers in Steve’s ear, the smile never leaving his face. Steve blushes lightly, “its nothing really. I just hope you enjoy it,” Steve mumbles, embarrassment in his tone.

#stranger things headcanons #harringrove #harringrove drabble #Eddie is very much a drink four cups of coffee and smoke half a pack of cigarettes for breakfast kind of person.#idk how to put in line breaks or anything on mobile so im sorry if this is long and clogs your feed.#yo im sorry if this is shit. I havent written in literally 6-7 years.#I just kinda wanted something cute and wholesome #I was thinking about how silly it is that theres such an argument about what breakfast is. like at least I ate.#fed is best. who cares if its spaghetti at 8am for breakfast and cereal at dinner time.#toxic revolver writes #this might become a more common tag if I start getting more confident posting actual things here.

82 notes · View notes

prettyboy-like-you · 2 years

Text

art for THIS 🔥 MASTERPIECE of a lemon-tastic drabble by the super-talented @chrisbitchtree and click HERE for the full (according to tumblr, naughty—it's really not tho!) version over on my ig acc...

83 notes · View notes

eddiebillysteve · 2 years

Note

may i present: stalker!billy who is obsessed with steve and constantly breaks into his house to steal his things and gets pissed off when he sees jonathan taking pictures of him and nancy because he thinks he's taking pictures of steve.

I WROTE THIS REAL QUICK BUT I NEEDED TO DO THE TINIEST LITTLE DRABBLE ON IT AND?? MAYBE I SHOULD?? TURN IT INTO A FULL FIC IDK?? So much pOTENTIAL?? ANYWAY I’M GOING TO SLEEP NOW BUT THANK U MUCH FOR SENDING THIS LITTLE?? REQUEST? IN?? IF IT WASN’T A REQUEST LET ME KNOW AND I’LL DELETE THIS ILY

trigger warnings: stalking, dark!billy, slut shaming? maybe it would be called?, possessiveness and toxicity and also billy thinking about hurting/murdering people but nothing too intense or bad!

✦ ✦ ✦

Steve Harrington’s house still baffled Billy despite being inside dozens of times. It was just so different than the shitty house they’d moved into when moving to Hawkins, where he had to use a milk crate as a vanity and the shower he shared with his brat of a kid sister only spit out hot water half the time. It was massive, with a gorgeous swimming pool like the one he used to have in their home in California.

He still didn’t understand the downgrade. Their home had been much nicer in California, Neil had had a better paying job. For whatever stupid reason, after he married Susan, his father decided to take a transfer to Hawkins where he made half his Californian salary. They were financially struggling and it made living with Neil even harder than normal.

That was the real reason why he liked being over to the Harrington house so much.

Steve didn’t know he was constantly around, but it made no difference. He didn’t need to know, at least not yet. He had to continue to believe that Billy couldn’t stand King Steve so he would never suspect that the reason his things were started disappearing was because of Billy Hargrove.

He liked to take souvenirs every now and then. A pair of Steve’s underwear here, one of his sweatshirts out of the laundry basket there. Someone so rich would never miss the disposable things, he figured. Nothing had happened yet, at least, and his Steve collection continued to grow.

The truth of the matter was that he loved Steve. It was why he acted so mean around him, like a child picking on a girl they had a crush on in the school yard. It didn’t work, though. Steve continued to be blissfully oblivious to his advances even though Billy got more and more obvious about it — a few weeks prior he’d pressed his bulge against Steve during a basketball practice, even, and nothing.

The guy was hopelessly heterosexual or a proper idiot, and Billy was banking on the later.

He was having a very rough day, a fresh bruise blooming on his cheek from the fist of his father, when he heard it.

Laughter. A girl’s laughter.

Nancy Wheeler’s laughter.

He crept to the fence surrounding the Harrington’s backyard and looked through the tiny hole he’d made a few months prior. The world suddenly turned red at what he saw.

Nancy Wheeler in a tiny little bikini, practically hanging off of his Steve, who was also just in his swimming trunks. He looked as beautiful as ever, but Billy had the most sour taste in his mouth at the sight of Nancy.

It should have been him. He should have been the once pressing into Steve, holding his arm.

Steve belonged to him.

It wasn’t just the two of them, though. The older Byers kid was there, too, and he was also laughing and taking pictures of the pair of them.

He tried to calm down by adding up the facts in his head.

Nancy and Steve had broken up months ago. They were still friends, but they never really spoke. Steve had groveled over her for awhile, had let it affect his basketball skills, too, until Billy had taunted him enough that he’d gotten his head back in the game. There were rumours that Nancy had quickly moved on to Byers, which he had assumed to be true, but now he wasn’t so sure.

For her sake, he hoped it was true. He wouldn’t let anyone come between him and his lover, even if said lover didn’t know they were together yet, especially not Nancy Fucking Wheeler.

It’d be such a tragedy for the entire town if a bright young girl with so much potential wound up floating in the Quarry.

He watched her bounce around, trying to look innocent while still pressing her arms together in that way that girls did when they wanted to make some extra cleavage and show off without being obvious.

It made him feel sick. She was such a little priss in school, yet here she was, basically ready to star in a porno with her ex for Byers’ camera.

What pissed him off further was that it meant he wasn’t going to get into Steve’s room, either. They were supposed to be out of the house; Steve was always out on Tuesday’s at four. Billy was sure of it, because he’d been watching Steve every day for many months and knew what he did every second of every day.

He knew the kind of cereal he liked to eat, what station he kept the radio on, how he folded his socks and where his secret stash of condoms and nude magazines were. He’d looked through them, had found the pages that were turned down. They were all women, all brunettes with tight bodies that could have been Nancy if you squinted hard enough, but it didn’t make any difference.

They were destined to be together. Steve just didn’t know it yet. But he’d find out one day soon, and Billy would convince him they were soulmates whether he liked the fact or not.

The more he watched, the angrier he got. Steve had already had his pictures taken for the yearbook by Byers’ two weeks and three days ago during fourth period at school. Their current little party wasn’t anything to do with school or the yearbook, he was sure of it.

This was Jonathan Byers being a pervert and Nancy Wheeler being a slut and he couldn’t let his sweet boy be tarnished by their poison.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove au #dark!billy hargrove #harringrove drabble #my drabbles #tw: stalking #tw: possessive behavior #answered

57 notes · View notes

prettyboybillyhargrove · 2 years

Text

At first Billy always run away from Steve's compliments and hide somewhere or deny him strongly reminding him how bad he is and how he hurt him etc etc. Steve had to find a way to make Billy listen. So when they started fuckin for the first time Steve lock him there. With his cock inside Billy. But making him whimper with need. Begging him to move, fuck him, fil him with his seeds. Steve just stay still and give him all the compliments he had. How pretty he is, how clever he is, how hes so talented when he works on his car and how his hands looks so good while doing it. How firm and fuckable his ass is. And how beautiful his bright ocean eyes. How he fuckin loves Billy and Billy deserves all the love and compliments he get. And at that moment Billy believed Steve. And saw the real love in his eyes. And he was so glad he found Steve.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #my hcs #my aus #harringrove drabble

38 notes · View notes

meowmeowbilly · 2 years

Text

I said I wanted to write a drabble, here it is.

Inspired by the reply to my post by @stevewhoreington Prompt - First Kiss

The thing with Billy Hargrove was that things were never boring and they were never easy either. Steve knew both of those things, but for some reason he still found himself chasing after Billy. Maybe he was attracted to the semblance of danger that it all had, meeting at the quarry after dark, climbing on the hood of each other’s cars, Billy eventually closing back off and storming off; Steve didn’t know, but he was attracted to something. There was something special about Billy, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it is.

Steve didn’t think that it was ever going to happen, he wasn’t stupid, he knew where he was and what the climate was like. Even if both of them had eyes for each other, Steve knew better than to act on it and so did Billy, or so he thought. That neat little framework came crashing down when Billy came speeding into the quarry, engine revving. It was easy to tell when he was fired up about something, Steve could always tell by his driving. “Training for the Fortune 500?” He bites back a smirk, eyes scanning Billy as he watches him get out of the car; he never knows what each night is going to bring, and tonight is no different. He’s never sure if Billy is hurt, angry, excited, or what; he’s always got to read the room with Billy. If he’s not careful, they’ll both get hurt and that’s the last thing he wants.

“You mean the Daytona 500, dipshit, Fortune 500 is some economic, business, CEO shit,” Billy scoffs, leaning against his open car door, shaking his head. “God, dude, your dad is like, a huge business guy, how do you not know shit about shit,” he’s usually careful not to poke too hard, Steve’s never fully confided in him that he feels inadequate or stupid, but Billy isn’t dumb and Steve is mostly an open book. Tonight, though, Billy’s not sure he cares. He’s sick of this shitty, dead-end town and sick of Neil, his sperm donor of a father. “I actually meant the Indy 500, considering we’re in Indiana and not Florida, but sure... whatever floats your boat, Billy,” Steve sighs, letting his head fall back against the hood of his car with a soft thunk. He’s already determined that Billy is too far gone to joke around with, even though he can tell Billy is trying to be a good sport and not take it out on him. “Fuck you, Harrington,” Billy stalks over, his boots making a dull thud against the rock and dirt with each step. “I am so fucking sick of you sometimes, man. Don’t you ever know when to shut your fucking mouth?” He looms over Steve, staring down at him. His eyebrow is split and he’s obviously wiped up a majority of the blood, but there’s still some dried in the tiny hairs on his face. “I’m not going to fight you, Billy,” Steve sits up, looking at him, face-to-face, “and for your own good, I’m not going to let you take it out on me either,” he stands, digging his keys out of his pocket.

“Wait,” Billy grabs his arm, boxing him into the car, pressing him against the hood, “who said you know what’s good for me, pretty boy?”

“I know it’s not good for you to take your anger out on your friends, Billy,” Steve whispers, feeling warmth rush across his chest and throat, they’re far too close to each other right now. “Oh, yeah, well, who said I wanted to take out anger on you?” Steve raises his eyebrows, he can feel his cheeks flush, God, he used to be so smooth, now he’s blushing at cheesy fucking lines. “Billy, I don’t think-”

“Yeah, well I do, Steve. If people are going to call me things, it might as well be things that are true. If people are going to mistreat me for the people that I like, well then, that’s on them, isn’t it?”

His eyes are wild, fire behind them, Steve knows it’s passion, mostly. He’s sure there’s some anger mixed in there, but it’s righteous. “Billy,” he starts, unsure of what to say next, “just because someone calls you something, doesn’t make it true...” “What if it is, Steve?” Billy stares at him, face eerily calm and blank for what they’re discussing. “What if it is true? What then?”

“Then.. it’s true. I don’t know,” Steve shakes his head, looking at him, “what do you want me to say, man?” “I don’t want you to say anything, dumb-ass. I want to kiss you,” Billy huffs, backing away from Steve, giving him room to get away from him if he wanted.

“You- Woah- Woah, wait, what?” “Never mind, forget it. I’m going back home,” Billy’s the one reaching for his keys this time when Steve stops him.

“No, say it again. I just wanna make sure I heard you right.”

“I want to fucking kiss you, Steve Harrington. Is that what you wanna hear, huh? You want me to embarrass myself in front of the whole fucking world or something?” “It’s not the whole world,” he says, gently grabbing Billy’s hand, “it’s just you and me. I think that I like the way you think, Billy Hargrove. I think that a kiss would be appropriate enough. I won’t tell if you won’t.” “God,” Billy crinkles his nose up, rolling his eyes, “you’re so cheesy, I hate it. You’re totally like those guys in the awful rom-com movies that girls watch.” Billy was complaining, but it was totally working, he could feel the butterflies in his chest. He totally got the appeal of Steve Harrington.

“Well?” Steve looks at him expectantly, “Are you going to kiss me or not, Hargrove?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Billy huffs before pressing his lips into Steve’s, wrapping an arm around him and pressing his hand into the small of Steve’s back. It’s a brief kiss, but it’s a good one. Billy could definitely write off ever kissing anyone else if it meant he got Steve’s lips.

“Hmm..” Steve sighs happily, lightly brushing his thumb over Billy’s cheek. “You’re a better kisser than I thought you’d be.” He’s obviously teasing by the smirk pulling at his lips. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to kiss me. Not in a town like this.”

“Fuck a town like this, pretty boy. I’d kiss you anywhere,” Billy whispers, resting his forehead against Steve’s, letting his eyes close as he takes in the cool night air.

#harringrove #drabble #harringrove drabble #harringrove fic #steve #billy #steve x billy #billy x steve

58 notes · View notes

cyberwebz · 1 year

Text

This is from my WIP called ‘I Wish I’d Met You Later’ - Harringrove, post Halloween party

They laid on the hood of the Camaro for a while, staring up at the stars, passing the joint to the other and back again in silence. The chill of the October air numbed their skin as they sunk into their highs. A smile broke over Steve’s face, twisted and full of bitterness and breaking the silence with it too. He laughed. A small chuckle. Then deep howling amusement. The sounds of which bounced off the trees and echoed over the cliff’s edge. His chest tightened with each convulsion; tears stung his eyes as reality sunk in. He pinched the tip of his nose, a trick he had learned to keep up the solid masculine appearance his father always insisted upon. Still, a single drop spilled over and down his cheek.

Billy watched the whole endeavour behind the filter of a Marlboro Red. When the silence resumed, save for the sounds of the water below and the chirp of crickets in the grass, it was Billy’s turn to disrupt it.

“Don’t sweat it, Harrington. She’ll get over herself and come crawling back. Bitches always do.” He blew out the smoke over the brunet's face and smirked when Steve breathed deeply to inhale it.

“No. No, she was right. It’s all just…Bullshit.” Her voice resonated in his head as he said it.

‘Bullshit.’

Now that the weed had loosened up his body, Steve was powerless to stop the thoughts in his head from falling from his lips. “She doesn’t love me. I don’t think she ever did. Jonathan was right there the whole fucking time. God, I’m such an idiot!” He paused. And then, “FUCK!” he yelled into the darkness. His hands fell to his sides in defeat. Their knuckles brushed together slightly.

Steve looked to where their hands rested now, side by side on the cold Chevrolet metal. He could feel the heat radiating off of Billy; the Californian blood persistent in his veins.

“Hot.”

It was meant to be just a thought, but there it was now floating away on cigarette smoke and midwestern wind. Out of Steve’s dumb mouth and into Billy’s vigilant ears.

Billy hummed and quirked an eyebrow. Interesting.

Steve grazed the back of his hand against Billy’s, his eyes half-lidded and a breath caught in his throat. He threaded his long fingers between the blonds and completely lost himself in the feel of their skin moving together.

The long content sigh Billy expressed pulled Steve from his reverie. He snatched his hand away and bolted to sit upright. Fuck.

“Sorry. I’m like, so stoned, y’know.”

Billy smirked. He’d heard that before. “No need to apologise, Harrington. Marijuana,” he scoffed “can really fuck with you.” He pushed himself up so they were sitting side by side again and placed a hand on the other boy’s thigh.

Steve watched Billy’s every move. He studied the angle of his jaw and the slope of his nose, mapping the freckles spattered over his cheekbones. The blue of his eyes was lost under the dim glow of the moon beyond the clouds, but the glint remained when they flicked down to glance at Steve’s mouth.

“I should be- um…”

Billy shushed him and leaned in slowly. His breath ghosted over Steve’s face and it smelt of tobacco, weed, and beer, with a hint of spearmint gum. All Steve could hear was his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. When Billy shifted to get closer he found a palm on his exposed chest.

“I’m not- I- I’m sorry.” His eyebrows knitted together in shame. Shame from the situation or his aversion, he wasn’t sure.

Billy removed his hand from where it was still resting on Steve’s upper thigh, turned away, and pulled out his pack. His hand shook as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and lit up.

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated quietly. “I should go.”

“Whatever, Harrington. No big deal. Go on, fuck off home.” Billy kept his eyes laser-focused on the cliff's edge. He didn’t move until he heard the Beamer’s engine turning over and pulling away on the gravel track. “Fuck!” He shouted, slamming his fist down on his car.

#harringrove #tina's halloween party #almost kiss #my writing #cyber writes #harringrove fic #harringrove drabble

9 notes · View notes

shieldofiron · 1 year

Note

Height difference 🔥

Billy that’s in the 6’4-6’5 range, super muscular and dreamy

Steve that’s in the 5’6-5’8 range, twinky hairy bitch boy

Billy being overprotective as hell, carrying Steve and starting fights if someone so much as looks at Steve the wrong way.

Steve being an ever present damsel in distress 👺

Billy leans over him, making Steve slightly lightheaded on the smell of heavy cologne and stale cigarette smoke, “Baby.”

Steve pouts, glaring back.

“Pretty boy,” Billy’s white teeth gleam in the neon lights of the club, “The prettiest.”

Steve crosses his arms, though they feel weak when Billy runs one finger tip along Steve’s exposed chest, parting his chest hair and tracing one line on sweat dampened skin.

“Steve,” Billy leans in, his growl reverberating off of Steve’s face, “He pushed you.”

“We were all dancing,” Steve pouts, “It was a mistake. He didn’t mean to do it.”

Billy runs that finger down and around, laying his huge hand across Steve’s waist.

“Baby,” Billy tries again, his head haloed by the blue tinted bulb.

“No,” Steve ignores the blood swiftly rushing south as Billy’s hand caresses Steve’s waist, sliding around to the small of his back.

“Sugar,” Billy’s smiling though, one notched brow raised, “I gotta protect you. So small and sweet.”

“I’m not t-that small,” Steve bites his lip as Billy leans into his space, fitting his thigh between Steve’s and lifting him oh so easily.

Billy’s lips curve, “No. You’re just my size, prettiest. Take me so well. Fit me just right.”

Steve groans when Billy grinds against him.

“You didn’t like watching me?” Billy chuckles low in his throat, like the big bad wolf, “I didn’t even have to fight him. He looked so scared.”

Steve’s hands fall limply to Billy’s hips, gripping hard, the traitors.

“Gotta protect you, Steve,” Billy murmers in his ear, “Else you won’t keep me around.”

“I will, Jesus Christ of course I will,” Steve gasps, “Billy.”

“Forgive me, baby?” Billy grinds against him again, and Steve swears he can feel every inch through raw denim. Steve’s legs go weak, if Billy wasn’t holding him up he would have collapsed by now.

“Take me home, you animal,” Steve stammers, “Now.”

“So demanding,” Billy gives him one more long grind that has Steve seeing stars, “Can you stand, or do you want me to carry you out?”

Steve can stand. But he smiles up at Billy and lies, just because he can.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #asks #everybody has big billy on the brain huh #harringrove drabble

122 notes · View notes

chrisbitchtree · 2 years

Text

Billy’s world was a small one. It consisted of work, at a local car repair shop, the grocery store, the gym, home, and the music store. It hadn’t always been that way. There was a time when he’d been just like any other kid, running around at the beach, or enjoying the crowded fall fair. Then his mother had left, and it wasn’t easy to trust people anymore, so his world narrowed. He avoided busy places like the plague. His life was carefully mapped out so he could avoid crowds. He went to the grocery store and gym late at night and went to the music store on his lunch breaks from work.

The music store was the most recent addition to his list of safe places. He was looking for some tapes that he hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. They didn’t do business over the phone, so Billy had talked to his therapist about wanting to go. They’d spent a lot of time talking through the best- and worst-case scenarios, as they did with every new place that Billy went, and after a lot of false starts where he’d hover with his hand on the door of the shop before panicking and turning around, he’d eventually felt ready to go in.

Steve, beautiful, lovely, perfect Steve had been the first person to ask Billy if he needed help, and Billy had fallen for the other man in an instant. He was the shop manager, and he was a wealth of music knowledge, constantly expanding Billy’s musical horizons. For example, Billy had insisted that he wouldn’t like The Smashing Pumpkins, but Steve had insisted, and now Billy would find himself humming ‘Today’ as he worked on the cars at work.

Steve had given Billy his work schedule, and now, once a week, Steve would give him a tape from a new band, and Billy would listen to it from start to finish, then when he would return the next week, he would tell Steve what he liked and didn’t like about it, and what his favourite song from it was. It was the highlight of his week, and he loved to tell his therapist all about it. She would say how proud she was that he was meeting new people. Well, at least one new person. She encouraged him to branch out and ask the other employees for assistance and their opinions, but why did he need that when he had Steve?

After their conversations started to expand beyond tapes, Billy learned that Steve was a musician, trying to build a career for himself in the industry. One day when Billy walked into the store, Steve handed him a flyer for a show that he was playing at a local music venue. Billy wanted more than anything to go but knew it wouldn’t be possible. He felt maxed out on safe places, and even if he wanted to add to his list, the show was in two weeks. It wouldn’t be enough time for his therapist to help him work through scenarios. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell to Steve the truth, but he didn’t want the other man to think less of him, so he kept his mouth shut, making up an excuse for why he couldn’t go. He tried to ignore the disappointment he could see on Steve’s face.

As the months went on, Steve continued to invite Billy to shows, and Billy kept coming up with reasons why he couldn’t go. He could start to hear the resignation in Steve’s voice the fifth time he declined his invitation to go see him. The next time Billy entered the shop, Steve shoved a tape into Billy’s hand. “Here’s what you’re missing.” He walked away before Billy could respond.

As soon as Billy got home from work, he put the tape in his stereo. From the speakers poured a gorgeous voice that was obviously Steve’s. He was so caught up in the other man’s voice that at first, he barely registered what songs he was singing. The whole set list was songs that Billy had said were his favourites off the tapes that Steve was recommending to him. He felt a pit growing in his stomach. He had to talk to his therapist.

The first thing she told him when he spoke to her was that he had to be honest with Steve if he wanted their friendship to move to anything else. And she wanted to work with him so that he’d feel comfortable going to one of Steve’s shows. Billy had been scared when she’d said he should be honest with Steve, but now that seemed like a walk in the park compared to going to a concert.

The next time he went to the store, he asked Steve if he could have his home number, so he could call him. After a long, quiet moment, Steve wrote it down on a receipt slip and handed it to him. Billy called him that night and confessed everything to the other man. Steve kept apologizing to him for trying to push him to go to his concerts, but Billy shushed him. How was Steve supposed to know? Billy felt like a 1000-pound weight had been lifted off his chest when he told Steve. He felt the best he had in years.

He continued to talk to Steve on the phone almost every night, eventually graduating to coffee dates in the small café attached to the music store, and he worked with his therapist to be comfortable at Steve’s shows. Billy had panicked a couple times, telling Steve that he couldn’t go, last minute, but eventually, they worked out a middle ground.

***

Billy peered at the crowd from his seat at stage left. After talking with Steve and his therapist, he’d decided that he could handle going to Steve’s show if he could remain off to the side by himself. He felt comfortable there, and actually found himself excited to see Steve perform.

The lights dimmed, and Steve walked on stage, passing Billy as he went. He grabbed Billy’s hand for a moment, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He took his seat on stage, greeting the crowd. “Hi everyone, I’d like to thank you all for joining me here tonight, and I’d especially like to thank the new man in my life, Billy. Billy,” he said as h started to strum his guitar, “This one’s for you, baby.”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #my fic #chrisbitchtree writes #tw anxiety #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

105 notes · View notes

cavinginhisfvce · 1 year

Text

Paring: Harringrove

Angst!!

Billy fell first. Steve fell harder.

Steve wishes he never fell, because then it wouldn't hurt so much as he watched them lower Billy's empty casket into a grave. It wouldn't hurt so much when they covered said casket in fresh dirt.

It didn't help in the slightest that Steve was aware Billy wasn't in said casket, only because he knew his boyfriend's corpse was currently in a government facility, having unspeakable tests done to it.

Max had come up to him at some point and just silently rested her head on his shoulder, her mom not too far behind her.

Billy's dad was noticeably absent, because who misses their only son's funeral? Neil Hargrove, is who.

The other kids had come, if only to comfort Max and pay their respects to Susan.

Joyce and Hopper were holding the memorial for Billy in their new house. Steve had yet to see the house the kids raved about, and under any other circumstances, he'd be buzzing with excitement too, but as it stood Steve could only feel a soul crushing pain, and an emptiness all at once.

Not many people knew about Steve and Billy's relationships, outside of Max and Jane, everyone had found out after they'd trapped Billy in the suana. Billy, who in a moment of clarity amongst being controlled, had cried out to Max to keep him away from her and Steve. Had begged his sister to kill him before the monster inside of him could do anymore damage.

There was enough blood on his hands, he didn't need to add her and Steve to the list.

Max ignored his pleas, she was determined to save her brother, but they'd still been too late. Even if they'd gotten the Mind Flayer out of him, he'd never be the same, mentally and physically. No one truly knows what digesting chemicals for nearly a week could do to the body, but it was safe to assume it wouldn't have been pretty.

None of it mattered, Steve decided. If Billy wasn't around, nothing fucking mattered. The world had to be at a standstill, because how could anyone go on with their day knowing that the boy with the prettiest eyes and breathtaking smile would never toss either in their direction again?

#billy antis dni #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove angst #angst fic #billy hargrove deserved better #billy hargrove protection squad #max misses her brother #steve misses his boyfriend #hurt/no comfort #drabble #harringrove drabble #harringrove fic #steve loves billy #max loves billy #fuck neil hargrove #tw: neil hargrove #tw major character death

128 notes · View notes

manwrre · 7 months

Text

It’s bordering on two weeks since Hargrove’s arrival at Hawkins High, when Steve realizes he’s crushing on the guy. Like—‘doodling hearts in the margins of his books and racking up a list of things he likes about him’ type crushing.

They’ve barely interacted after that night at the party. Outside of social gatherings, they just run in different circles; Steve, filling his time with Robin and occasionally third-wheeling Nancy and Jonathan, while Billy hangs out with the more popular crowd.

Their schedules also don’t overlap despite the blonde taking a number of senior-level classes, with the exception of gym and lunch.

The list though, is still so painstakingly long. Ego-stroking-ly lengthy. Embarrassingly indulgent, all on his behalf.

Steve would much rather nosedive into the quarry, than divulge too deeply into it with anyone.

Especially around or to the guy’s actual face, at the risk of Billy’s head becoming too big for his body (even though Steve thinks he’d make an adorable bobble head). Or you know, worse— like him, getting absolutely brained in front of everyone.

Which must say a lot about him as a person because apparently, this is his type. Beautiful, angry, conceited boys.

Regardless, there are some objective mentions on his list though.

Things that the general public would agree on, like Billy’s Michelle-Pfeiffer curls; loose and wavy but so, so golden.

His eyes are a close second, of course because Steve’s seen a lot of bright blues but Billy’s remind him of the vacation he’d spent in Aruba, as a kid. Remind him of a horizon-kissed vastness and warm water lapping at his ankles on a private beach.

The public also agrees that Billy’s got a banging body. He’s thicker than most because he actually gives a shit and ‘works out religiously’ but it’s not all muscle. His abdomen and thighs are firm but his pecs and ass have the right amount of give. A perfect amount of softness.

Steve would know because he’s had to will away many boners at the sight of them.

And Billy’s funny in a witty, sarcastic way. He grins toosharptooprettytoobright and dangerous. He’s smart too, like taking mostly AP classes smart and he’s smug about it all because he knows he’s hot shit. Of course, the bastard is self aware. Cocky. Steve likes him so much. Wants him so bad that it’s dizzying, sickening.

So yeah, there’s stuff that everyone can agree on but then….then, there’s whatever this is.

This being the two penny-sized indents at the base of Billy’s spine. Symmetrical and just defined enough for average eye to discern.

When Steve sees them for the first time though, he promptly drops the basketball in his hands. In front of everyone. During fucking gym class. Purely out of shock.

He catches himself within the same breath and quickly looks away.

Swallows.

Ignores the pointed look that Patrick sends him for flaking out, mid-pass, like some kind of freak and looks around cooly.

Because Billy Hargrove has dimples of venus.

Affectionately dubbed a sign of beauty by Michelangelo. Famed after the Greek goddess’ simulacrum. Called dimples of Apollo on men, which suits Billy all the more, in Steve’s opinion.

The sun child.

Flushed with life. Deserving of avid worshippers. A being deserving of wax poetic. Glittering, dazzling, vibrant and the Camaro, his chariot.

And he knows this because dimples are like, his freckles. His glasses. His braces. They’re a niche, little thing that he finds just devastating. Achingly cute. Nancy has a pair of them near her laugh lines that he would kiss everyday and prod at, endeared.

So he ambles on through practise a little out of breath and red in the face with his newfound knowledge.

Watches Billy jog over to the locker room with everyone else at the end; skin slick and sweat pooling at the divots of his waistband. Tempting.

He stands back and feigns trying to catch his breath, his hands on his knees. Eyes the younger boy’s retreating form from up through his hair. Imagines hooking his thumbs into the depressions of his flesh.

Relishes in the thought of splaying his hands across the width of his waist.

Feels his mouth go dry and a rush of white heat surging south.

Licks his lips absentmindedly as his cock aches to life and makes the decision to skip the locker room schtick, save anyone realizing he’s sporting a half chub.

Instead, he grabs his backpack and heads out to his car. The parking lot is mostly empty by the time he gets there and devoid of anyone interested in him enough to wave him over. He tosses his stuff into the backseat of the Beemer and speeds off before anyone can catch up to him.

It’s a short drive to his house but he spends it envisioning Billy in all sorts of compromising positions. Thinks about the flush on his skin when he plays and the heat in his eyes— wonders how easily he gives in; loud-mouth turned soft and pliant at the faintest hint of pleasure.

He barely makes it inside before shucking his bag off and stripping himself bare of sweat-sticky clothes. In the same breath, he’s fisting a too damp hand around his cock and hissing at the near painful throb. His only relief comes from the coldness of the door against his back as he slumps against it.

Precum beads at the flushed head and he gathers it all on the upstroke to ease the glide. Squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that honeyed galaxies explode behind the lids and he can’t think.

Can’t think about the consequences of jerking off to someone he sees damn near everyday. Doesn’t care enough to avoid the impending embarrassment.

Why would he? Instead, he thinks of Billy laid out beneath him, all pretty and flushed and glittering; his eyes wet with unshed tears and ruddy lower lip between his teeth as he looks over his shoulder at him. Imagines the roughness of his voice and his muscles all pulled taut as Steve knocks the air out of his lungs with each slam of his cock.

He fucks into the tight ‘o’ of his hand, already so goddamn close and conjures up the image of twin dips. Wants to paint pearlescent white across the bronze expanse of Billy’s back; let it pool where he is favored by the Gods.

The thought has him biting back a moan as he grinds into the slickness of his hold. The heat in his gut expands so greatly, so suddenly, that his hips flex with the intensity of it. Until finally,

it snaps.

Like a star beneath the pressures of gravity; with all the strength and ferocity of a supernova. And he’s spilling all over his hand in a few stiff, jerky thrusts and breathing out a low, garbled “Fuck, Billy— shitshitshit.”

And God, he’s so screwed.

221 notes · View notes