confettibites

[confettibites]

Dustin: You’re totally gonna kiss the new guy, aren’t you?

Steve: Definitely yeah

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After an argument early on in their relationship

Billy (confused): You didn't hit me

Steve (also confused): what? Of course I didn't

Billy: but I did something wrong...you're supposed to hit me

Steve (still confused but also horrified): what the fuck are you talking about?

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Harringrove locker room AU

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After a fight, Billy just wanna make sure Steve’s tits are okay

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COMMENT ON OLD FICS, I BEG YOU!

I swear to god after like a week people will still be reading but nobody leaves comments anymore and I just want to make it absolutely clear that I would be excited and elated to get a comment on these fics one hundred years after I post them.

A FIC IS NEVER TOO OLD TO LEAVE A NICE COMMENT ON. GO FORTH AND COMMENT!

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Billy with lipstick 

I know I drew sth similar before but I can’t help it 

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"Eyes on me. Yeah. Good boy."

---

Thank you so much for trusting and sticking around.

Steve says thank you 💛

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He thinks you’re really hot Billy

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Steve's head is thrown back, his eyes screwed shut with his lips parted. His hands holding Billy's hips as he slides back and forth with his hands on Steve's chest, fingers entwined in his chest hair as he moans softly. Quietly. Steve's grip tightens as Billy moves faster but his voice grows louder and suddenly Steve's eyes fly open and he leans forward to put his hand over Billy's mouth and shush him. His hand then moving town to touch his nipple, then he pulls him down to run his tongue over it. His lips moving between them as he fucks up into him slowly, quietly. They cannot get caught but they couldn't help themselves. The coach's old sofa in the supply cupboard was too inviting and they were already half naked anyway. What else were they supposed to do after practice?

[confettibites]

happy 'billy is a b s o l u t e l y not dead' day to everyone. i love you and i miss you and i miss him and i miss them and god, i wanna come back.

[confettibites]

Billy knows his dad doesn't act like a dad.

Has known from the first moment when Neil's hand slipped for the first time. Gets reminded everyday, when he's a girl, a loser, a faggot and never a son.

He thought it was just words and bruises that made it bad. He should actually be lucky to even have a dad at all. Where would he be without Neil?

Steve's eyes, wide and horrified, tell him something else. It makes Billy uncomfortable, in a way the school nurse back in California did, when she asked him if he's got a safe place to go to and he didn't have an answer, because he was nine and scared.

"What?" Steve says. His voice got an edge like he's choking up and tries not to.

"It's no biggie." Billy's got the sinking feeling he has screwed everything up, like when he told the nurse that he sometimes hides in his closet or under the kitchen sink until Neil falls asleep.

"You just told me you didn't get dinner for two nights in a row." Steve rubs his nose and Billy sees tears in his eyes. That can't be worth anybody's tears, can it? "And that you slept in your car."

"I just wanted to get out of his hair." Billy rolls his eyes. It's better to avoid Neil's moods. He's glad he's got the Camaro. It's a fucking privilege. Maybe rich guys like Steve don't get that.

"Yeah?" Steve squints his eyes. "What did he say?"

"Get out," Billy repeats. Cuts himself off before he can add the "fucking pussy" Neil screamed. Maybe it wasn't even that. Neil screams a lot, way too much that Billy can remember it all - and Steve's upset enough.

Somehow it feels like it's all Billy's fault. He shouldn't have mentioned that he's fucking hungry and relieved that he got his paycheck today.

Steve sucks in a deep breath. Leans forward and Billy digs his fingers in his palms, trying not to flinch. It's a reflex. Whenever someone is angry, he's all tense, like he's about to be stretched apart any second.

Steve presses a kiss on Billy's cheek.

"You can always come here," he says. "Always."

It's a lie, something inside Billy whispers. He'll get tired of you. Even your mother did leave you.

"I'll give you the spare key," Steve promises. "You don't have to sleep outside."

"Why would you do that?" Billy asks, brows furrowed. If Steve isn't home, they can't have sex and that's all Billy is probably good for.

"I want you safe, baby." Steve flushes. "Billy, I mean."

He rubs his neck. "I'll make us dinner, okay?"

Every word feels like hug. Billy's chest grows warm. "Okay."

Maybe he will have a place to go to after all.

[confettibites]

Before they became friends, Billy didn't get touched a lot. Not in the way Steve does. Without thought, without pain. Careful.

Nobody has ever been careful with Billy. Why should they? He can take it. He has to.

It's absurd. The whole thing. Making a friend in Hawkins, finding something good in the fucked up cluster of days that are his life. Their hands brushing against each other and Billy's heart is stopping. Steve is patting his back and Billy choked. Billy lies awake at night and wishes he could feel Steve's long fingers again.

It's odd. Hands on his body that don't take something, but give something back.

Steve laughs. They watch a dumb cartoon, but Billy watches Steve. His whole face lights up when he laughs, dimples forming on his cheeks and brown eyes sparkling. Billy should look away, but he can't. Has to stare at Steve and how he's fucking glowing.

Steve's laughter ends in a snort and he turns around to Billy. Billy feels caught. Guilt makes his stomach churn. He shouldn’t stare.

Steve puts his hand on Billy's shoulder. Not in the way the guys slap his back during practice. Not in the way Stacy did last week when she tried to slip her hands in his jeans at the movie theatre. Not in the way his dad does when he pushes him to the ground. Not in the way he holds him until Billy cries. Not in the way anyone ever did.

No, Billy feels the tip of Steve's fingers pressing against his spine, then carefully wandering across the muscles, stroking lightly and pushing against them.

Billy can't breathe. His eyes burn and he shakes his head, but it doesn't help. Only makes him more dizzy.

He expects Steve to pull his hand away. Steve doesn't.

"Is that okay?" Steve asks, voice low like he's asking Billy for a secret.

Billy doesn’t trust his voice. Just gives Steve a nod.

He can't look away. Steve's eyes are warm like his hand.

"Can I try something?"

Billy's tongue sticks to his gums. Another nod. A bit shorter, a bit unsure.

Steve pulls his arms around Billy. Presses his chest again his own, squeezing Billy tightly.

It's a hug, Billy realizes slowly. He's sinking against Steve. He wants to bury his face in the nape of his neck, but he doesn't dare.

One of Steve's hands strokes his hair. He keeps holding Billy. Billy doesn't want him to stop.

He didn't know it could feel like this.

[confettibites]

Steve: And it sucks, Robin. They get mad when I pass out!

[confettibites]

Steve is clutching the Camaro's door handle.

Billy’s driving as usual: 50 over the speed limit, blasting some metal band Steve already forgot the name of (because it's all screaming and no singing) and he's turning around any corners way too late with screeching tires.

Steve is going to die. But not because of Billy's driving.

“C'mon, don't be a pussy,” Billy yells over the music. “Nobody says no to roadhead.”

“You're driving,” Steve says, grasping the last shreds of his patience. “You can't blow and drive.”

“You just have to handle the steering wheel and tell me when to hit the brakes, that's all!”

“That's all,” Steve mimics him. “We'll die, Billy.”

“Your boner disagrees.”

Steve groans, because of course he's got a raging hardon when Billy describes how he'll give head to Steve in vivid detail.

He's saved from death by Billy's mouth (not the worst way to go), by sirens blaring and a police car pulling them over.

“Shit,” Billy shouts.

What happens next is a show Steve didn't know he bought tickets for. Billy turns down the music, unbuttons the last of bit of his shirt and lets down the window.

“Do you know how fast you were going?” Officer Callahan holds out his hand. “Driver's license, please.”

“What?” Billy's lips form a perfect pink O. He twirls a blonde curl around his finger and leans forward. “Are we still within city limits?”

Callahan nods. Steve swears Billy's eyes have never been so huge and blue before.

“I'm so sorry, Chief” Billy gasps, batting his eyelashes at Callahan, right hand opening his wallet. “I'm still not used to Indiana, you know?”

“I'm not the Sheriff. Just an officer.” Callahan turns red. He stares at Billy's license. “California, hm? I've never been.”

Steve's jaw crashes down. He can't believe it.

“Oh, you should visit!” Billy nods, like he's trying to sell Callahan a two weeks vacation in Santa Barbara. “It's beautiful!”

“You know what? I'll let you go with a warning.” Callahan gives Billy his license back. “Sometimes the signs are really hard to see here.”

“Oh, you're my hero, Officer!” Jesus fuck.

“Just doin' my job.”

Steve waits until Callahan has driven away.

“Did you just play blond and dumb for Callahan?” he asks slowly.

“It's working most of the time,” Billy grins, all proud. “Except with the Chief. Even flirting didn't work then.”

He purses his lip like he's still pouting about that.

“You flirted with Hopper?” Steve nearly yells.

“Jealous, Harrington?” Billy leans over. “I could give you some roadhead to make up for it.”

“For fuck's sake, not when you're driving!”

“Well, I'm not driving right now, am I?” Billy licks his lips.

Steve is weak. He'll die in this passenger’s seat one day. But not today.

“I guess…”

Billy's hands are already on his belt.

[confettibites]

Hopper has braced for a lot of things when Billy moved in.

For the shouting matches, for doors slamming shut, for El quoting movies back at him he certainly didn't approve her to watch, for Billy vanishing for a few days, for Billy staying in his room.

But that?

A fucking drama taking place in his living room.

"If you didn't want me to go to Nancy's party, you just could have said something!" Steve Harrington puts his hands in his hips like he's an annoyed parent. Coming to think of, Arthur Harrington used to stand like this in High School.

"It's not that," Billy yells back. "It's just... she asks you and you... jump. Every time."

Amazing. They don't even realize Jim has just come home. He lingers in the doorway, not sure what to do.

"That's not true," Steve shouts. "And you're just jealous!"

Does Billy like Nancy? Jim didn't get that impression from the few times he saw him interacting with her. He always sticks to Steve, more or less tolerating the presence of others. It's almost like...

"Fine," Billy screams, face flushed. "I'm jealous of that bitch! Maybe if I'd put on a dress and bang Jonathan Byers, you'd finally choose me over her."

Oh. Jesus. Jim wants to hide behind the curtains Joyce insisted he really needs in the living room. They might come in handy now.

"You need to speak to me Billy." Steve rubs his face. "And don't call her that, just because you're angry with me. If you don't say what bothers you, I can't change anything. I would have stayed or you could have come with me."

Billy stares at his feet. "I... I know. It's just..." He tugs at his ear ring. "It's hard."

Yeah. Jim knows that Billy has troubles voicing his feelings and needs.

"Just tell me next time," Steve says. "You're way more important than Nancy."

Billy's face turns red.

"I promise I won't fuck Jonathan," he mumbles.

Steve laughs. It doesn't sounds mad. "I'd like to see you in a dress though."

God. Jim wants to disappear. But he can't, because this is his living room.

"Uhm," Hopper clears his throat. "Sorry to interrupt your... lovers quarrel, but I really need a beer now."

"You.. for how long..." Billy gapes at him. Steve turns red from head to toe.

"Too long," Jim says, shaking his head. "Do you guys want a beer as well?"

Steve nods.

"I don't know what you heard, but we're.. not..."

"Not banging Jonathan, I got that." Jim rolls his eyes and gets three beers out of the fridge.

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Steve has some secrets to spill