#mandi writes tresh

[mourntheantagonist]

Yay!! My fic for the 2023 Harringrove BigBang (@bigbangharringrove) with gorgeous art by @disterra!!

Rating: M

Content Warnings: disordered eating, mentions of torture, fatphobia, references to child abuse, depictions of anxiety

Chapter 1: Prologue

“Hold on, baby you’re losing it”

If someone had told Billy a year ago that he would be happy to be back in Hawkins, he would have laughed in their face. He would have told them all about his plans to run off to California the second he had the chance, tossing in a couple choice words on his opinion of their quaint little town in the center of nowhere. And yet, there he was kneeling in the grass of an open field where the helicopter landed, placing his hands into the great American soil, sobbing in utter relief.

He felt a hand on his back, Chief Hopper, who somehow wound up in the same Russian prison—locked up, starved, and forced into physical labor…tortured…Billy didn’t know why he was there too, and he didn’t ask. He wouldn’t want to talk too much about what happened to himself there either.

Hopper had rubbed slow circles into his back, standing beside him and staring into the sun resting just above the horizon, feeling the heat hit their faces. “Feels good huh?” Hopper asked.

Billy allowed his eyes to fall shut, taking in all of the warmth, feeling his frostbitten fingers and toes begin to wake up out of dormancy. He didn’t say anything, he just sat there, basking and breathing.

“It’s good to be back home.” Hopper said, and Billy felt no need to correct him, not at that moment. Hawkins may not have been the place he considered his home—far from it—but he was more than happy to be there. His opinion on the place hadn’t changed, it still was a far cry from sunny skies and sandy beaches, but it was warm and familiar and it did feel a little bit like home in a way—but that could have just been the freedom talking.

“Yeah.” Billy said, wiping the snot from his nose into his oversized flannel sleeve, “It’s good.”

“Come on you two,” it was Joyce’s voice, the tiny woman and mother of the two Byers kids who somehow managed to break him and Hopper out of a maximum security prison across international borders. It was safe to say Billy would do anything she told him to do, if only to avoid getting a taste of whatever wrath she used to get them out of there. “It’s time you boys get a good meal.”

read the rest on ao3

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #harringrove bigbang

[mourntheantagonist]

billy had a girl over again.

it was always so annoying when he’d do that. he always did it on days when her mom and neil would drive into the city to do some shopping, on days they’d be out of the house, and like, yeah. it made sense. but she was still there, and the least he could have done was take her to the arcade or to a friends house or something so she didn’t have the hear the sounds of his bedsprings aching underneath the weight of two people.

ugh. he was disgusting.

all she could do on those days was turn up the volume on her stereo and hope to god her speakers were powerful enough to drown out any and all “happy screams”.

it seemed to have quieted down a bit in billy’s room, and she was thankful for that, both because she didn’t have to think about whatever unholy act was taking place behind his bedroom door, and for the fact that she could shut the stereo off and save her eardrums from lasting damage.

with the stereo off, she could hear something else. it wasn’t creaking bedsprings or “happy screams” or anything else she would have gagged at.

she heard laughter. billy’s laughter. and it was nothing like the laughter she was used to hearing from him. nothing like his maniacal little cackle or his pleased guffaw. no. that sound that somehow escaped billy’s mouth was most definitely a giggle.

who on earth had made her older brother giggle?

she was at a loss, suddenly switching from trying to drown out the noises from that bedroom to having her ear pressed up against the wall to figure out what exactly had billy laughing like a school girl. she couldn’t make out any words, and she couldn’t hear the voice of another person—well unless you consider the half octave rise in pitch billy’s voice had made to be evidence that he was an entirely different person, which she did. because who was that??

her ear was practically glued to her door and she still was getting nothing more than muffled voices, like the adults on charlie brown. and to her own detriment, she was nosy as all hell. shaking it off and going back to reading her comic was simply not an option. she had to investigate.

max quietly stepped out her room and slowly tiptoed down the hall and through the kitchen towards Billy’s room. she had made it exactly two steps into the living room, the sounds still nothing but the faint chatter of billy’s unrecognizably high voice, when she heard the sound of the back door open.

max quickly jumped and sat on the couch, acting as casual as possible, curling up into a throw blanket and making herself appear as if she was taking a nap. because standing outside of billy’s bedroom was incriminating for both her and billy.

fortunately for the latter, her mom and neil took their time unloading their bags onto the kitchen table, and the rustling plastic was enough to keep the sounds taking place inside of billy’s bedroom to travel into the ears of the kitchen dwellers.

but max, in her comfy spot on the couch, just five feet away from billy’s door, heard all of it.

not so clear, not so precise, but she definitely heard billy’s voice whisper yelling “go! go! go!” and it was hard for her not to blow her cover and break out into her own incriminating fit of giggles.

the only other sounds she was able to hear were the frantic shuffling feet, the sound of the window creaking open, and the distinctly masculine sounding “ow” following what she assumed to be the five foot descent from the window.

that confused her, because why would billy jump out the window? he never really struck her as the gentleman type—the kind of guy to walk you home and open your car door—but she also hadn’t pegged him as even remotely capable of giggling the way he did so maybe she just had it wrong. maybe whoever that girl was that was in his room had somehow torn down his walls enough, the walls she once believed to be completely impenetrable, guarded by strong fists and an alcohol addiction.

she finally thinks she has some of it figured out. billy’s in love with this girl, which wasn’t something she thought he was capable of, but the day had been full of surprises.

just like the surprise she got when not even ten seconds after hearing that very masculine grunt in pain from impacting the ground outside of their house, billy emerged from his room to offer his his help to his dad and her mom at putting away the groceries.

what the hell?! last she checked, her brother did not have super speed…

wait

wait

fortunately, nobody was looking at her, because she was doing a piss poor job at pretending to nap with the way her eyes had shot wide fucking open at the realization.

a guy

a guy

billy had a guy over!

billy was in love with a guy!!

…

oh that poor guy.

now she had a secret to carry. she knew something she wasn’t supposed to know, something that wasn’t her business and instead of feeling thrilled like she thought she would, she just felt guilty.

and as much as she wanted to know who the guy was, she wasn’t going to ask. it wasn’t her business.

she didn’t expect the answer to fall so easily into her lap.

if max had seen steve harrington waddle into school the next day with his ankle in a boot, well, it was none of her business.

#I’m not sure if I like this one #but I want it out of my drafts #so here #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #max mayfield #mandi writes tresh #ficlet

[mourntheantagonist]

I’m just thinking about the fact that if Billy had suddenly woke up in the upside down after having his guts ripped out of him, he wouldn’t think he’s in the upside down, he’d fully believe he’s in Hell. Like the actual, biblical Hell.

So imagine his surprise when suddenly he hears Steve’s voice after being alone in Hell for months, being tormented by demobats and whatever creepy-crawlies live in the upside down. He hears Steve screaming for help and he’s confused on how Steve wound up in Hell with him. He wonders if maybe this is a part of his Hell, tormenting him with the idea of Steve being hurt.

Still he runs to Steve, following the voice for the sliver of heaven that would be seeing his face.

And suddenly he’s stumbling across a shirtless Steve with a bat’s tail wrapped around his neck, and despite no part of him believing what he’s looking at is real, he allows himself to play into the illusion. He fights the bats off of him and pulls Steve to his feet, feeling Steve’s skin against his and it all feels so real. It feels too real.

And Steve is looking at him like he’s staring at a ghost, and Billy wonders if this really is Steve. He wonders if Steve had died too and joined him in Hell. Part of him thinks it makes sense. Billy would be Steve’s Hell.

But then Steve is shaking him and squeezing his arms asking him if he’s real and exclaiming “You’re alive!?” and Billy just looks at him totally confused because for the longest time he’s assumed he was dead.

He just reminds himself it’s an illusion. It’s Hell’s way of tormenting him.

And then there’s more voices. Nancy he recognizes, Eddie too, and he questions what the hell his dealer is doing here. He recognizes Robin too, though he doesn’t know her by name. She’s just the girl from the grade below him that he clocked the first day he saw her with her sharpied converse and denim jacket covered in pins.

They’re all saying the same things Steve is saying. “You’re alive!”

They’re asking him how and saying it doesn’t make sense and that’s the first thing he agrees with them on. Nothing makes sense. Billy Hargrove is dead. He heard Max talking to him at his grave.

Billy doesn’t answer any of their questions, he just stands and stares, and suddenly he’s being dragged into the woods with the rest of the group, Nancy saying that they’re going to find a way out of there, and Billy can’t see how anything is possible.

And yet, he lets it happen, because there’s Heaven in not being alone for once.

There’s Heaven in seeing Steve again.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #ish #incoherent thoughts by me #I’m planning to write a fic like this WHEN I possess the energy #so there’s that

[mourntheantagonist]

I said this to someone offhandedly a while ago but it just got me thinkin thots

Billy can win any fight, against any opponent. Sure, he might take major damage in doing so, but his end goal will always be met. But there’s a catch.

He has to be fighting for someone else. It can’t be selfish.

It’s why when Steve asks him why he doesn’t ever hit Neil back, his heart aches inside his chest, realizing Steve will never understand.

It’s the question he never really understood the answer to himself, just knowing the simple fact being that he couldn’t fight back. He wasn’t allowed to fight back.

Steve always accepts Billy’s answer, but really, he doesn’t. Because the next time Billy shows up at Steve’s door with a busted lip, he’ll ask him the same question again.

“I’ve seen you fight,” he says, “and I’ve seen your dad, you can easily take him down.”

Billy knows when Steve says this, he’s only trying to help him. Steve assumes he doesn’t fight back because he’s afraid. Steve assumes he doesn’t think he would win the fight. Steve doesn’t understand.

But Billy, he’s starting to.

Billy knows he would win. He knows he could stop a beating in its tracks with one fell swoop if he wanted to.

But then what?

After. What does he do after?

Steve never considers this part of the question. For Billy, it’s all he ever thinks about.

When Steve asks him what he would do if Neil went after Max, he’s surprised by the answer Billy gives him.

“I’d stop him.” He says.

There no “I’ll try” to be heard in that short sentence. It’s sure. It’s a promise. And all it does is have Steve asking once again why he never defends himself.

Billy knows Steve only asks because it’s hurting him to see him hurt. Billy understands that hurt. It’s why he knows not to fight back.

He remembers watching his mom take it just like he does. She would stiffen and never break eye contact. She’d tell Billy to look away and leave the room, but even behind a closed door he could hear it all rattling through the walls, and he never missed the glimmer of glass shards on the carpet when the noise finally stopped and he left his room.

She never fought back. She survived.

She did fight, though, but never for herself. When Billy was at the age his dad had deemed old enough for his discipline of choice, his mom stepped in whenever she could. Billy never failed to notice that the fear in her eyes that she always had when his anger was directed at her vanished when it was turned towards him. She wasn’t afraid when she wasn’t fighting for herself.

He doesn’t remember her saying the exact words to him, hell, he’s pretty sure he made it up, but it didn’t change the fact that whenever he was face to face with his father’s death stare, he heard her voice in his head telling him to stay calm, to listen, to maintain eye contact, to brace himself and take it…telling him it would be worse if he didn’t.

He listens to his mom. She got out. She survived. He’ll do as she did. He’ll take what is dished to him, and protect the ones he loves, and he’ll always win.

Steve continues to ask him why he doesn’t fight back, and Billy decides that he’ll let him, because he knows there’s nothing Steve can do, and he knows how shitty it feels to be helpless.

Billy still tells him he can’t, but never why. He tells him that he’s okay, and he thanks him for being there with him.

It’s okay. Even if it hurts a little every time Steve asks, he knows that one day he won’t have to ask him anymore.

Because Billy got to stop asking his mom the same question.

#is this good? #I have no idea anymore to be honest #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #ficlet

[mourntheantagonist]

billy’s constantly telling steve “I’m so lucky. I have the prettiest boyfriend in the world.”

like constantly.

and steve just adores it, really. he loves the way billy will pull him aside from just about…anything…he’s doing, spin him around and plant soft and sweet kisses to his lips, saying in a whisper just an inch from steve’s own face.

“I’ve got the prettiest boyfriend in the world.”

and he loves it, being called pretty, especially by billy. he loves the way he says it like he means it, like he can’t possibly fathom how he gets to have someone so pretty…and that…that’s the issue there.

billy just refuses to take compliments.

steve will tell billy how he loves his hair, and billy will always say “yours is better.” or steve will compliment billy’s pretty blue eyes, and billy will come back with “I think brown eyes are prettier.”

and it doesn’t necessarily sound self deprecating the way he says it, but god it hurts a little somewhere inside at how billy can never just say thank you. It’s like he doesn’t believe it.

so. steve decides the only way to fix it is to give billy a little taste of his own medicine.

they’re lying in bed, both on their sides facing each other, billy having his head propped up under his elbow, his free hand tracing shaped into steve’s chest hair. smiling.

“I have the prettiest boyfriend in the world.” he says, and the words just make steve want to explode.

“no.” steve says, reaching a hand over to brush those rogue blonde streaks of hair out of billy’s face, the ones covering those bright blue eyes that he loves.

the bright blue eyes that stare back at him confused.

“huh?” billy asks, because steve has never said anything other than ‘thanks baby’.

steve just leans in close and places his lips on billy’s. the kiss is long and soft and steve finds peace in the way billy leans into the kiss.

“no.” steve repeats, just an inch from billy’s face, speaking the words into his half open mouth.

“I have the prettiest boyfriend in the world.”

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #mandi writes tresh

[mourntheantagonist]

I think that Steve and Billy turn into this super domestic couple when the summer of ‘85 hits. It’s the first time Billy can remember ever having so much freedom. Of course it’s not total freedom, and Neil still remains a looming threat, but Billy’s out of the house more than he’s inside it, and Neil doesn’t question where he’s going when he grabs his keys from the ledge. Billy graduated and has a job. He’s doing exactly what his dad expects of him, and the simple fact of him being a true adult grants him a lot of extra time outside his responsibilities.

Which means Billy spends a lot of time at Steve’s. Like. A lot.

He can only vaguely remember the last meal he ate at his house. It was just a week and a half after he graduated when he had an early shift and made himself some toast before heading out the door. He hadn’t had family dinner as he was normally working during that time. And when he wasn’t, well, he might’ve bent the truth about his work schedule those days.

He and Steve both got off work at similar times, clocking out just as the sun was beginning to set. Usually the person who was getting off last would pick up food from a local restaurant or fast food joint. They never really cared to have anything fancy. Steve practically lived off fast food since his parents started traveling more. Billy was the opposite. They never ate out. Not when he was a kid, and especially not after his mom left the picture. It was always the most bland home cooked meals or TV dinners.

Sometimes they’d cook for themselves, but it was rare. But those were some of the best nights. The two of them struggling to follow their way through Steve’s mom’s cookbook recipe, Steve not being able to tell apart the teaspoon and the tablespoon to save his life. Billy burning whatever was put in front of him without fail. Steve would insist Billy could burn a chicken breast without even having the stove turned on. Those nights were always spent giggling and frantically fanning the smoke detector as it went off every twenty seconds. Those nights they’d sit together in front of the TV trying their damndest to chew through overdone steak before admitting defeat and calling in an order for pizza.

He can’t remember the last time he did a chore at his house. He used to always have to help Susan with the dishes after dinner, but he was never there and eventually that task fell to Max. And speaking of Max, he didn’t have the responsibility of babysitting anymore, as she was going to be entering high school in the fall and everyone agreed she was old enough to look after herself. Billy still was expected to look out for her, but Billy never had to be told to protect her. He did that on his own.

With him having a job, Neil didn’t expect him to do things around the house. He was simply happy enough to be getting a third of Billy’s paycheck every month.

But Billy was sure he’d be happy if he knew Billy was still busying himself with chores anyway.

He always helped Steve out. They would take turns taking the trash out to the curb every week, they would do dishes together, they’d sit together on the floor in a pile of clean laundry and fold it together while something played on the TV—

Hell, he can’t remember the last time he did laundry at his house. Practically two-thirds of his clothes have wound up at Steve’s house. He even had his own set of drawers and a space in Steve’s closet.

Billy can’t even remember the last time he took a shower in his own house, because since summer hit he has only ever showered at the pool after work, or in Steve’s bathroom, where he’s never alone.

It was one thing he never knew he was missing until he had it—Steve standing with his arms wrapped around him, letting the hot water soak the both of them. Washing each other’s backs and just getting clean in each other’s presence. Billy used to see showering as his few moments of peace throughout his day, but he definitely didn’t mind having Steve there with him. Especially when they made the decision to rack up the water bill and stay in there a little while longer…

Billy still slept at his house sometimes, but that was only on nights when he had to. Usually when Steve’s parents were back in town or when a considerable amount of time had passed that may have deemed suspicious. Neil would believe the idea that Billy was spending the night at a girls house. However, he wouldn’t believe he was spending night after night at the same girls house, and there were only so many girls in Hawkins to keep up his charade.

So there were still days he’d come home at night and sleep in his own bed, that was notably no where near as comfortable as Steve’s. Billy wasn’t sure if it had to do with the mattress or just the warmth that came with having Steve there next to him. But on those nights spent without Steve, he didn’t stay for long. He come home early enough to make his presence known, but never too early he had to spend any more time not in bed than he had to. When he slept at home that was all he did. He slept. The only time he did anything more was when he’d stop by Max’s room on his way in and out, just to check in.

He was glad he didn’t do that often, because sleeping at Steve’s was the best. With Steve he wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore. He didn’t jump at every creak in the house. Steve made him feel safe. Billy never imagined that he’d enjoy sleeping with Steve in the most literal sense more than sleeping with Steve in the figurative.

Of course he enjoyed that too. God he enjoyed that. But it wasn’t everything that they did together. When they were still in highschool, that was all it started out with. They never hung out without sex as a promise. They were nothing short of the horny teenagers all the movies warn you about.

But now, with the showers and the chores and the meals and the shared bed and shared closet and giggling in the kitchen…they aren’t that anymore.

They are proper boyfriends. They’re a couple, a pair, a duo.

They turned into this and summer isn’t even halfway over. It’s only the end of June.

Who knows what the rest of the summer has to offer…

#hurting my own feelings with that last sentence hehehe #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh

[mourntheantagonist]

so they moved to california. It was rushed, sort of on a whim. it had sort of been this thing that they’d just talk about, running away to somewhere far, getting out of this town that never had anything good to offer them aside from each other. steve knew billy was serious about leaving, but he didn’t know he was serious about wanting steve to come with him. that was until billy had come to him, serious as a heart attack, grabbing him by the shoulders and telling him they should just run away. they should do it now. they graduate in a couple of days and they can run off and never turn back.

and steve, maybe a little stupidly, maybe a little bit blinded by his love for billy, just said yes.

in one day steve had packed up his closet and scrounged up every last bit of cash he had. he also made an attempt to shake his parents down for a little bit more money. successfully got an extra $300 out of them.

in two days steve had told his friends. he told dustin and nancy and asked them to spread the word for him. he told billy he had to tell max, he told him how despite what she may say out loud “that girl loves you, and she’ll miss you.” however, hypocritically, steve had no intention of telling his parents until he was an easy 500 miles outside of indiana.

in three days, just the day before they’d pack up and haul ass, steve sold the beemer.

billy had offered to sell the camaro, saying it was worth more and that steve’s car was more practical. but steve saw the way he was clenching his teeth, and the way his eyes had turned sad, and he couldn’t let him give up the camaro. steve knew how much that car meant to him. he knew it was much more than a car to him. he knew it was special.

and for that reason, steve didn’t gripe much with giving up the beemer.

with the car sold, and all of their savings combined, they had enough money for an easy six months of bills, plenty of time to get themselves on their feet, and they didn’t much mind having to share a vehicle to do that.

so much so that, by the time they’d really found their footing, the two of them finding jobs that paid the bills and moreso, making enough money between the two of them that they could finally afford a second car, they didn’t jump on the opportunity.

steve didn’t have to commute to work, not with it being just four blocks away from their apartment, and steve would be lying if he were to say he didn’t love to drive the camaro.

steve never considered the possibility of something happening to the car. he never considered what would happen if it happened to be his fault.

it was a sunday afternoon. the church crowd had finally made their way back home and the roads were mostly clear, and the grocery aisle lines were short. they had run out of laundry detergent just the other day and they liked doing laundry together on sundays. it was the day they both had off, and they loved the quality time of just sitting in front of the tv, folding warm stacks of laundry, talking about their weeks.

billy was cleaning out the cupboards, annoyed by the way he found a two year expired can of tomato soup when making himself lunch the day before. he was on his hands and knees, checking the date on every single item, so steve had been the one to offer to make the trip to the grocery store for both the laundry detergent they needed, and some not-expired tomato soup.

it was a quick trip. the store was just under a mile down the road and he knew the route by heart, so well that he could do it with his eyes closed.

unfortunately, someone else had seemed to have the same idea as he had, clearly driving with their eyes closed with the way they flew through a red light just as steve was driving through his green.

steve swerved. he missed the car.

and then he hit the telephone pole. hard.

his whole body jerked forward and the air bags deployed and within seconds he was sporting a severely broken nose and a splitting headache and his whole body started to hurt.

but as he looked up out the shattered windshield, seeing the thick wooden pole that had split the camaro’s front end in two, seeing the smoke waft up from the hood and everything else…all he could think about was the fact that he destroyed the camaro. he destroyed something that was special to billy. and that hurt far more than any broken nose ever had.

the crash had happened only fifty feet from their apartment. which meant billy heard it. he had to have. he could probably see the state of the accident from the view of their window.

steve didn’t even try getting out of the car. he just sat there and cried, half hoping the car wouldn’t explode, half hoping it would.

it felt like a long time, but according the the clock that still somehow worked, it had only been a matter of two minutes before he heard sirens outside of the car, and flashes of red and blue refracted off the broken glass.

It took the same amount of time for them to show up as it took billy, who had run directly from the apartment to the driver’s door, pulling it open. he was out of breath, but he still managed to get the words out.

“steve!” he was crying, he could hear it in his voice. he wouldn’t look at him. he couldn’t face him. “hey, baby! hey! fuck are you okay?! please look at me baby!”

reluctantly, steve did, and he was terrified to see the sad look on his face. he was bracing himself for it. bracing himself for the sight of a completely shattered billy, looking just like the state of the camaro’s windshield.

steve sniffled, feeling the mixture of blood and snot drip down the back of his throat. “I’m sorry.” steve said, sobbing through the words.

“what?” billy asked, just shaking his head as he reached his arms inside the car and undid his seatbelt.

“I’m sorry,” steve said again, “I destroyed your car.”

billy’s eyes went wide and his hand retreated from where it was just on steve’s lap, reaching up to his face to wipe the tears from his eyes. “hey hey hey hey no.” he said, his hands coming back inside to car to gently cup steve’s bloody face. “It’s just a car. It’s just a car it doesn’t matter.”

steve could barely see billy past his own tears and the blurred vision as a result of the concussion, but he still could tell that billy was serious. “but it’s the camaro billy. It’s special to you.”

“you’re special to me!” billy cried, “I can replace a car! I can’t replace you!”

steve hadn’t had the chance to react to that, because just a second later the paramedics were pushing billy out of the way and helping him out of the car.

they wound up having a long conversation at the hospital. steve finally realizing he was being silly for once thinking that billy would be mad about the car. but steve coming to that realization didn’t stop billy from curling into that small little hospital bed with him and telling steve just how special he really was.

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #ficlet

[mourntheantagonist]

In light of the ddos attacks and ao3 being down, I wanted to make sure my fics are always accessible regardless of ao3 status. I realized that in my masterpost, most of my fics link directly to ao3, and there’s no way to easily find them cross posted here on tumblr. so here is that. links to all of my fics cross posted to tumblr. the fics crossed out were never cross posted, however if you are just dying to read one of those, I’d happily post it here for you! just let me know!

oneshots

we all need someone to stay

medicine

fresh rainwater

tonight we’re all believers

please don’t jump (it’s christmas)

pain reliever

somebody to someone

are the rumors true?

the breeds of bad people

how long can you hold your breath?

have it your way

fortunately

ten pins

breaking character

talk to me about our future

girls drink for free

two months

there’s no place like home for the holidays

the cost of a secret

the sex number

mirrorball

living after midnight (rocking to the dawn)

you make it hurt so good

round and round

eighteen and life

this is how i disappear

age, sex, location

i’ll see you tomorrow morning

cheap beer, sticky floors, and greek letters

sober thoughts

series

billy hargrove’s exploration of beauty

soft lace for sharp edges

it’s not just lingerie

safer with you

(i’m not) a real man

split ends

when blue met pink

multichaptered

posthumous

a clean run

dream a little dream of me

love’s austere and lonely offices

to be so lonely

trigonometry

for multi chap fics, you can find the next chapter at the bottom of the chapter before it, all these links will lead you to chapter 1

#mandi writes tresh #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #fics

[mourntheantagonist]

Trigonometry

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

warning: explicit. check ao3 for detailed tag list

read on ao3

8:05 p.m.

That was the time flashing red in her face from the clock sitting on the side table next to the television. She sat with her back towards Steve, feet propped up on the sofa, resting her head against his side, her stare darting back and forth between the clock and the door.

8:05 p.m.

They told Billy to be at Steve’s house at eight.

Sure, it had only been five minutes—three hundred seconds exactly. It was a short enough amount of time to be explained away by a long stoplight or an inconveniently placed elderly driver.

Steve was rubbing his hand up and down her arm, and she knew he could feel how tense she was. Though, it wasn’t hard to be able to tell that considering Steve wouldn’t stop acknowledging it.

“Relax,” he said, “I’m sure he’s on his way.”

Nancy just kept looking at the clock. 8:06 now.

“He should be here already.” she grumbled.

Steve laughed, and it annoyed her just a bit how he was so unbothered by the situation. But, she also appreciated it, a little. At least one of them had to be the voice of reason. She had no idea what she would do if Steve was bouncing off the walls like he typically did when he was nervous or excited by something. She wondered if the fact that he wasn’t should concern her, but she was far too busy staring at the clock to hold any other concern.

“Not everyone can be as punctual as you, Nance.”

Nancy just curled further into his side, bringing her hand up to rest on his chest, feeling his heart beating hard. He was nervous too. He just wasn’t showing it. “Well,” she said, tilting her head back so she could see Steve’s face, “if he doesn’t show, we can still have fun just the two of us.”

Her voice sounded sincere, which meant Steve wouldn’t have noticed the way her own words filled her with dread. She loved Steve. That part hadn’t changed. But, there was something about the idea of just moving on with their relationship after all that happened that made her feel a little sick. Maybe it was just Billy’s words still ringing in her ear, still clinging to her skin, unable to be shaken or washed off. Maybe it wasn’t that, though. Maybe it was just her and her own infatuation with Billy. Maybe it was her own desire for something more that made the thought of going without the experience something that made her feel just slightly ill.

She needed Billy to show up. It was far more than a want. That was why she kept staring between the clock and the door. She needed him to show up because she didn’t know what she would do otherwise.

The sound of the Camaro’s engine saved her from entering that spiral.

It was almost embarrassing the speed at which she shot up from her seat, severing the physical connection between her and Steve as she got up from the couch and rushed over to the front window.

The headlights poured in through the glass, the car facing head on and the rays hitting her directly in the eyes and forcing her to look away. She knew she looked just like a dog waiting for the mailman to show up—judging by Steve’s laughs anyway—and she didn’t care. He was late, she was impatient, and Steve just seemed to be going with the motions.

The way Billy got out of the car sent something like electricity through her. It was a shocking sensation that ran through her veins and gave her heart something of a kickstart, beating rapidly at the sight of Billy’s mere presence in Steve’s driveway.

8:08 p.m.

He was there. It was happening.

Nancy felt stuck in place in her spot in front of the window. She felt like her feet had been nailed into the floor, and the palm of her hand had been glued to the curtain that she had firmly gripped. Steve was the one who opened the door, before Billy had even so much as set foot on the porch, still standing closer to his car than the entryway.

She watched from the window as Billy dragged the tip of his tongue against his top row of teeth.

“Waiting up for me I see.” he said, his lips smacking together, and Nancy felt her face flush, and an overwhelming urge to hide herself behind the curtains. “Sorry I’m late. I had some trouble leaving the house.”

Steve didn’t respond to that in a way that Nancy could tell. She couldn’t see him from her angle behind the window. He stood directly in her blindspot. But, he must have done something nonverbal to warrant the jump in Billy’s step as he closed the distance between his car and the front door.

Nancy quickly backed herself away from the window and rushed back over to the couch, trying to act as natural as possible, hoping that Billy was just too enthralled with her boyfriend to notice her standing in the window just two feet to the left of him. She sat down, made herself look somewhat comfortable by bringing her feet up on the cushions and leaning her back into the pillows, looking anywhere but the front door where the party of two was about to become a party of three.

Billy shrugged himself of his jacket the second he walked through the door and tossed it onto the back of a chair, and somehow he was appearing to be more comfortable than Nancy looked on the couch, and she was trying really, really hard.

However comfortable Billy was in that moment would quickly start to fade as the seconds ticked by, and the three of them remained in a dimly lit living room in complete silence. Nancy could tell he was growing tense by the subtle fall of his grin, and the seemingly subconscious attempt to pull against a sleeve that was no longer there. She couldn’t blame him. Behind her own closed lips she was clenching her teeth. Steve was sporting his typical stress-induced shaky and neurotic demeanor.

“Should we, umm…” Steve’s voice cracked, and Nancy had to swallow a laugh because the last time she heard that voice out of Steve, she was fifteen and Steve was tripping over himself trying to ask her to catch a movie with him at The Hawk.

Steve cleared his throat and finished his sentence. “Should we head upstairs to my room?” he asked, and the blush on his cheeks was comparable to a tomato, but at the very least his voice was without any high pitched variations that time.

Billy stood awkwardly in between the couch and Steve, and Nancy could actually feel the vibrations coming from Billy’s erratically tapping foot. “Aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” he asked, and the tone of his voice and the look on his face told an entirely different story than the one his toes were telling. Neither of them were sure what that story was exactly, but the words were enough to put both herself and Steve into a state of alarm. Feeding Billy a nice meal as foreplay was not a part of their little plan.

“Uhh,” Steve’s eyes were wide, and if you couldn’t tell he was nervous before, he was wearing that fact like a neon sign right about now. “We uh, we don’t—”

“Holy fuck. I was kidding.”

Billy was looking at the two of them like they were being ridiculous, but also, appearing like he was truly on a level playing field—nervous out of his mind, and having absolutely no idea where any of this was supposed to be going. Nancy could only wish there were instructions. She wished it had been like one of her science labs. Step, by step, by step with precise measurements and detailed actions in a specific order. It made things easy, and it kept her from messing up, and potentially causing any lethal explosions in chemistry class.

Nancy pushed herself up off the couch, finally meeting the two boys somewhere close to eye level, rather than two feet below being smothered by the couch cushions. She brushed out the wrinkles in her clothes, which was pointless but a force of habit, and she tried to let her body find ease. She just reminded herself that the two standing before her were Steve and Billy, and despite what reputation would have her believe, she had nothing to be afraid of.

“Upstairs then?” Nancy finally spoke, realizing just as she said it that she hadn’t said a word since Billy had arrived. It was weird. He made her into a person she couldn’t recognize. She was shy, in a way, and nobody had ever made her feel that small. She wasn’t totally sure if that was because Billy was bigger than her, or because the situation they were in was just massive.

Billy nodded, and it was then that Nancy knew that it was the situation that was making her feel so small, because Billy looked to be even smaller.

Steve led the way, and Nancy made note of the way his head was hung towards the floor, staring straight down at his feet and intently watching as he took each step. It was as if his main focus was avoiding the possibility of tripping and making a fool of himself.

Billy followed behind Steve. It was Nancy who was trailing behind, and she was partly hoping that her distance would allow enough time for the tension to die down and the awkwardness to fade just enough for it all to finally start.

She had thought it would be easier. The way it had been described to her, albeit, in the vague details of the original encounter that she managed to get out of Steve and Billy, it was easy. Steve had gone in for the kill, barely any hesitation, and no lead up. There wasn’t any chit chat, or breaking of the ice. That’s sort of what she was hoping for—a desperate display of horniness that happened so quick that she wouldn’t have the time to think twice and run away.

When they got upstairs and walked into the room, it was like they’d all just been pushed out onto a stage with the curtains already drawn without a script in hand. Hell, they didn’t even know what play they were performing.

Nancy just took a deep breath and walked herself over to Steve’s desk chair beside the bed, sitting down and trying her best to get comfortable, or at the very least seem comfortable.

The two boys were still standing by the doorway, completely silent and stiff as boards. Steve’s chest visibly rose as he turned around to shut the door, turning back around once secured and leaning all of his weight into it.

It was weird, Nancy thought. They never closed the door when it had been just the two of them. Steve’s parents were never home when they did it, and they rarely ever ran the risk of any surprise visits. The house was always completely empty aside from themselves.

All of those things remained true, and yet, Nancy was relieved to have it shut. It felt safer, in a way. She already felt so exposed, so any extra bit of cover she could get was something she would cling onto.

Steve must’ve felt the same.

A few seconds they stood there unmoving, each of them waiting on the other to initiate. Nancy just waited, watching like a movie scene unfolding. It wasn’t her place to do anything anymore. The ball was in their court.

Steve eventually made that first move, which was shocking, to say the least. Billy never seemed to be the type to follow another person’s lead.

Steve reached out a hand, like an olive branch, and Billy just stared at it confused, but took it anyway, as if curiosity had overpowered him. Steve led him over to the foot of the bed, and Nancy felt her breath get caught in her throat when the backs of Billy’s knees hit the mattress. Somehow the four feet in travel from the door to the bed felt so fast, and their mere proximity to the bed felt like they were sitting right on the precipice.

That was what she wanted right? Quick, and easy?

Billy seemed to have other ideas, or rather, his mind did. Because consciously or not, Billy couldn’t look away from her.

“What is—” he spoke weakly, and it was a tone she never thought she’d hear coming out of a vessel that stood as tall and proud as Billy Hargrove did. It was shy and small and powerless. “What is this? W-What are we doing? What is she—”

Perhaps they should have talked about it in more detail with him. But, honestly, they didn’t think they’d have to. Billy had seemed perfectly comfortable when first propositioned, and if his reputation was anything to go by, they figured Billy would be the one taking the lead, and guiding them.

It was quickly revealing itself that they had grossly misjudged him.

It was the first time Nancy felt the need to intervene, or at least provide a helping hand in the right direction, because Billy was lost, and Steve couldn’t pinpoint his location.

“Just relax,” she said, putting more effort than ever into how relaxed she herself looked, because how was she going to say that without walking the walk. “I’m just going to be here. You two get to do your own thing.”

Billy’s facial expression could only be described As dumbfounded. He just kept looking back and forth between Steve and herself, seemingly waiting for the answer to a question he couldn’t ask.

Luckily, Nancy thought she might have the answer.

“It’s okay, Billy.”

Billy managed to take his eyes off of Nancy for long enough to look back at Steve, who was quickly learning from Nancy. He gave Billy a soft smile and nodded his head.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Miraculously, that seemed to relax Billy. Not by much, but she made a note of how his fists stopped clenching.

Somehow, as the time passed, the two of them had created a good amount of distance.

Steve was the one to initiate closing that said distance, slowly, barely conceivable movements bringing him from point A to point B.

Their stance was awkward from her point of view. Steve stood in front of Billy, who had his back to the bed. Their bodies were clearly still uncomfortable and Nancy didn’t fail to notice the way Billy’s eyes continued to dart in her direction, despite everything.

Steve didn’t fail to notice either.

With a visibly gentle hand, Steve brought his fingers up to Billy’s chin, pulling his gaze away from her, and centering it back on himself. The shorter distance they once had began to lessen even more as Steve made use of his other hand, placing it just above Billy’s hip and snaking it to the small of his back. Over a short period of time, their bodies went from the initial distant with inorganic postures, to pressed up against each other, chest to chest, but at least in the case for Billy, still unrelaxed, eyes still straining to look over at Nancy.

Steve—to Nancy’s surprise—was the more relaxed one between the two, and he was also the one doing a much better job at pretending she wasn’t even there. Nancy’s head was tilted as she watched, looking intently into the eyes of her boyfriend as he stared at Billy. His deep brown eyes were locked in on the blonde. His mouth was hung open just barely, his jaw relaxed and his lips soft with a hint of drool.

She felt her stomach start to tingle at the sight of the scene, and as each second passed and the two grew closer and closer, the urge to look away grew stronger. It felt like she wasn’t meant to be seeing it. Hell. She wasn’t meant to be seeing it. None of this was normal. Normally, when two people had sex, there wasn’t a third person just sitting on the sidelines, watching the whole thing like a movie. Well, at least not usually to their knowledge anyway.

There must be fun in it, she could imagine. The thrill of putting on a show, being wild and carefree and completely unbothered by the fact that someone else was watching. But, Nancy found there to be more of a thrill in being the third party. It was like when she was in middle school and she’d stumbled upon one of her mom’s Cosmos, knowing the second that she found it that she was supposed to look away, but finding her eyes simply glued to the page. She was being naughty, and there was just something so exciting about that. If reading a Cosmopolitan was considered naughty, well, what she was doing with Steve and Billy should be illegal.

Even more thrilling.

Just like when she was twelve years old sitting in her closet and flipping through the pages of a magazine, she couldn’t pull her eyes away. It was as if time itself had stopped, and they had frozen in place with just how slow they were going, and Nancy could feel the anticipation growing in her stomach just waiting for that electrical circuit to connect.

It was so gentle, and soft, and she could almost feel it too. She could see the way Billy’s breath had hitched when Steve’s lips had landed. His wide eyes had grown even wider and his body had stiffened like a board and she had to wonder what she’d missed, because Nancy Wheeler was good at reading people, and she’d never expect that sort of reaction out of Billy.

But then, the dust settled, and Billy’s seemingly terrified look had sunk into the warmth of Steve. His eyes fell shut as if it were by force of gravity. His body became loose, his hands moved away from his sides, and it was clear to Nancy that Billy was no exhibitionist, but he could quickly fall into the illusion that they were alone. Nancy understood that. She’d experienced that before. Steve really had a way of making one feel like they were the only two people left in the world.

Billy had clearly fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

Billy was the one to deepen the kiss, those trailing hands moving up along Steve’s sides until they were cupping his cheeks. It was all consuming. Every last exhale of air and little noise that Steve produced Billy swallowed with his kiss. His grip on Steve was visibly tense—the white of his knuckles and the deep canyons in Steve’s cheeks made by the pressure under Billy’s fingers telling her so. Steve’s head was moving as if he was swimming, deep in the sea, searching for something. It seemed as though Steve had control of the movements, while Billy maintained control of the kiss.

It seemed that way, until suddenly their vertical stance had drifted to something more horizontal, with Billy falling flat on his back in one swift movement, something graceful. Billy still had his hands firmly latched onto Steve’s face, and suddenly Steve was the one who was wide-eyed. It seemed that Billy had taken over control.

The kissing quickly became less soft, and more frantic. A sloppy exchange of tongues with the corners of each other’s lips pulling tight against their will. It was desperate. Billy had his hand firmly latched into the hair on Steve’s head, as if he was afraid he’d try and run away. Nancy had felt that before with Steve. That desperate urge to cling onto him as tightly as possible like he was her lifeline.

She could see Billy smiling, less with his lips and more with his eyes. He looked blissfully content with relaxed eyes as the weight of Steve’s kiss smothered him and left him utterly breathless.

It was all going great. Perfectly smooth. Nancy sat watching, letting the butterflies in her stomach reproduce and fly around and lift herself up to new heights. Somehow in the midst of everything, she failed to realize that Billy hadn’t been the only person in the room that was worried someone else might be watching, because she sat there, fighting every urge she had to touch herself.

And boy did she have the urge.

As she watched, Billy looked to be falling more and more into the illusion that he and Steve were the only two people in the room. Steve hadn’t even looked at her once. All of his attention had been locked on Billy from the start. That was supposed to make her jealous. Wasn’t it? The fact that Steve couldn’t even spare her a second glance? The fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off of him?

It did. Actually. It did make her jealous.

The difference was, she liked the way it felt.

And the urge turned into something she could no longer over power.

She decided to be discreet with it, bringing her feet up onto the chair with her and sitting on her heel, rocking back and forth, side to side. It wasn’t anything intense, but it would be enough stimulation to hold her over until she calmed herself down a bit more.

She didn’t have Steve’s lips on hers. She didn’t have his essence all over her to be consumed by. It was going to take her a little bit more work to get comfortable.

Though, it seemed she’d overestimated Billy’s comfortability, because just seconds ago, he seemed so blissfully unaware of Nancy’s presence. He seemed so lost in everything Steve.

But Steve’s hands eventually began to travel. No longer mapping the geography of Billy’s chest through the opening of his practically unbuttoned shirt, his hand slid down, over the fabric. Down. Down. Further, and further…eventually breaking the denim barrier below his belt.

Billy instantly tensed as Steve made contact. Eyes shooting open into a look of shock. His breath seemed to be lost as he allowed his neck to turn, and his gaze to drift back over to Nancy, who, just like him, had frozen in place.

Steve retracted his hand and stood up, recognizing immediately what had caused Billy to startle. Suddenly, they were back to square one, waiting around with too much distance between them.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, and he was slow with his reapproach, leaning back down and making sure Billy knew where his hands were—way up high, right beside his face. Steve gently scooped up the side of Billy’s head and brought him back to facing upwards, and looking back at Steve with a blank and panicked stare. “It’s just me, Billy.”

Steve then placed a long and incredibly soft—by the look of it—kiss to Billy’s lips, as if to pull him back into the trance he’d just been, or to give him a little bit of medicine to help calm his overactive nerves.

It was intimate. It was very intimate. Not just for the kiss itself—Nancy had seen enough of that already to be used to it—but it was in the eyes. Steve looked down at Billy so tenderly. So full of concern and desperate understanding.

And then there was Billy.

Billy who looked like a kicked puppy. Billy who looked like he was borderline on the verge of tears just looking up at her boyfriend. It looked like he was wearing somebody else’s face, because Nancy would have never thought she would see an expression like that out of Billy Hargrove. She never thought she’d see him so nervous and unsure. So out of his depth.

He was still straining to look at her.

“Hey, look at me.” Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper. If it weren’t for the stillness of the room, it would have been easily likely that she wouldn’t have heard a thing, even given how close she was to the conversation that didn’t involve her. “Not at her. At me.”

She could hear his quick and uneven breaths. She could see them with the rise and fall of his chest—so erratic. Steve just kissed him again, bringing a hand to rest right over Billy’s lungs as he did, as if to watch as the seconds passed as Billy’s breathing and heart rate slowed, relaxing into his lips like a sedative.

Steve was slow and calculated with his next moves. He didn’t let his hands travel too far south, and instead stopped at the shirt buttons just above Billy’s navel, undoing them with only one hand—his other hand was still up by Billy’s head, drawing circles with his thumb behind Billy’s ear.

Billy leaned into the touch.

It was soft, slow, and careful. Each movement designed to give Billy the chance to breathe, but not the chance to overthink and freak out again, and Nancy sat there, literally on the edge of her seat watching as the clothes started getting stripped off.

First was Billy’s shirt, buttons undone and laying open, exposing the final bit of his torso those two clasps managed to keep hidden. It wasn’t anything either of them hadn’t seen before, but something about the moment itself made it feel like they were all fully exposed.

Then Steve stood up, momentarily parting their kiss to pull his own shirt over his head with the help of Billy, who was pulling at the hem. She could’ve sworn she saw Billy chasing Steve’s lips, his head practically levitating up off the bed to follow Steve’s movement to savor just the extra split second of contact.

They took the opportunity of their already parted lips to take Billy’s shirt off the rest of the way, tossing both of their discarded garments on the floor behind the bed, as if they were obstacles in the way of the finish line.

Steve was back down within seconds, hands not immediately making a move to take off the rest of Billy’s offending clothing, and instead taking the opportunity to explore the canvas of Billy’s chest. She could tell that it was completely hairless, which was in striking contrast to Steve’s.

She always loved Steve’s chest hair. She loved the way it felt running through her fingers.

And so did Billy, apparently.

She hadn’t been paying too much attention to where Billy’s hands were. Not until they landed right on the same spot of Steve’s chest where hers always landed, stroking up and letting the gaps of his fingers wade through the coarse sea of hair.

And Steve’s hands were traveling the same route they always did on her, on Billy. Up, and over the breast, squeezing the soft tissue. If she was being honest with herself, her and Billy weren’t much different in the realm of chest size, and all things added together, it was like she was staring at herself in a way.

One of Steve’s fingers brushed over Billy’s nipple and Nancy could have sworn she heard him gasp at the sensation. Or maybe that was just her, because she was so intently focused on Steve’s hands that she sat there waiting, expecting to feel something when Steve’s finger grazed him as if she really was the one in Billy’s position.

But she felt nothing, and without even thinking, she snaked her hand under her own shirt, sticking it under the wire of her bra, and fully giving herself into the fantasy playing out before her very eyes.

She no longer had the mind to care whether or not anyone was looking at her.

Things were finally looking like they were progressing. Steve and Billy kissed for a long while, easing into everything at an agonizingly slow pace for Nancy, but at least when Steve finally reached down to work at Billy’s jeans, he didn’t freeze up.

Undoing Billy’s belt with one hand probably wasn’t the most time-sensitive way of doing it—Steve’s fingers kept fumbling as he tried pulling the end through the loops. Steve seemingly refused to move that other hand away from sitting in the center of Billy’s chest. Nancy could only assume Steve was feeling the same sensation Nancy was feeling with her own hand pressed to her chest—that strong and chaotic pumping of blood through her veins.

When Steve finally managed to free Billy of a closed zipper, he didn’t hesitate all the much before slipping that same free hand below the waistband of Billy’s underwear, and it was like there was a sudden jolt of electricity that was felt by all three of them, despite only two of them having had any contact for a circuit completion.

While it was a collective jolt, they all reacted pretty differently.

Nancy’s eyes widened, and she could have sworn she felt the beat of her heart pause completely for a full second.

Billy produced a sound, seemingly against his will and completely uncontrolled. Nancy could only describe it as shockingly delighted. She also assumed Billy was having a whole separate reaction downstairs…judging by Steve’s reaction.

Because Steve smiled, almost deviously, like he had a plan in his mind, and Nancy was sitting on the edge of her seat just waiting to hear it.

Steve dragged his tongue along his upper lip, as if he was staring directly at a dinner platter of all his favorite foods.

Steve brought himself even closer to Billy, chest resting against chest, his weight on top of the other boy, his mouth less than an inch away from the other boy's mouth.

He didn’t kiss him. He just let his hot breath hit Billy’s face as he spoke the words directly into Billy’s agape mouth.

“What do you wanna do?”

Nancy could actually see it that time. Her eyes had drifted down back to where Steve’s hand was still below Billy’s waistband, and she didn’t fail to notice the very subtle movement, and the ever so slight laugh that came from Steve in response.

“Someone’s eager,” he said.

Billy didn’t respond. He just stayed lying there with wide open eyes, mouth hung open in a perfect display of shock.

Steve didn’t acknowledge it—hell, he probably wasn’t even aware of it, so locked in and focused on Billy—but Billy was hardly the only eager person in the room, and it wasn’t like she was being subtle about it. She was biting her lower lip, and grinding against her heel much faster and violently than before. She wasn’t just eager, or excited. She was outright desperate.

More than anything, she was excited for Billy’s answer to Steve’s question. It was the one thing they didn’t discuss beforehand. She didn’t think they had to, seeing as that part was just between him and Billy, and not herself. It didn’t feel like she should have a say in any of that.

She didn’t want to have any say in it, because even if she was asked—just like Billy had been asked—she was almost positive she wouldn’t have been able to come up with an answer. Even sitting there without the question posed to her, she had no idea what she wanted. All she knew, all she wanted in that very moment, was to know what they wanted.

Something about knowing another person’s deepest desires lit something up inside Nancy. It was the type of thing Steve would never normally share with her, or with anyone for that matter. She could only assume the same for Billy. And yet, she was sitting there, right within earshot of an admission she was never meant to hear.

Billy let out a high-pitched whimper as Steve moved his hand against him. It was a sound that clearly made Steve happy, but it wasn’t the sound he—and Nancy—was waiting to come out of his mouth.

Steve dropped his lips back onto Billy’s, and it was less like a kiss, and more like he was trying to suck the answer from his throat. Kissing him into a sweet delusion that the words he was saying were just thoughts inside his head, where only he was privy to hear them.

Billy let out a long exhale through his nose, melting into the kiss. Clearly, whatever little spell Steve was casting was working wonders.

Steve parted too soon, leaving Billy chasing the kiss and meeting nothing but air after lifting his head up from the surface. He was absolutely delirious. High off of Steve’s kiss. It was like truth serum, and all Steve had to do was ask him one more time.

“What do you want to do, Billy?” he asked. “Whatever you want.”

There was barely a second of silence before Billy hummed and said

“Fuck me.”

Steve showed a look of momentary surprise, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear Billy say.

That thing he had said in the car, about it feeling like he was losing his virginity all over again, turns out he really wasn’t all that far off. She knew from the very beginning that Steve didn’t really know what he was doing. She knew this was as new for him as it was for her. But, it hadn't been very obvious that he was in way out of his head until right then, when his eyes had grown wide and he was suddenly at a loss for words.

“Oh—ok…”

It seemed that Billy noticed that too, and the delirium wore off.

“You’ve never fucked a guy before.” It wasn’t even a question. It was more like a realization.

There was so much going through her head. That initial excitement she had when he’d said it—that skip in her heart beat and hitch in her breath—hadn't disappeared by any means, but it was certainly muffled by all the other noise. The concern for Steve, the feeling of being exposed, the worry over the fact that everything had stopped and the desperation for it to continue. But more than all of that, the loudest thing ringing in her ears were all the questions she had about Billy.

He had been subverting all her expectations with every move since the moment he stepped through that front door. Every word out of his mouth was like a brand new piece of information that disproved scientific fact, leaving her to scrap everything and start over from scratch. The words that Billy said, while exciting to her, were the very last ones she expected him to say, or want. Steve seemed to be taking it all in with ease. All up until that point, when he finally felt like he was the fish out of water.

Steve was speechless and still, and his silence would have been palpable if Billy hadn’t taken away any ability he would’ve had to form words by taking hold of the nape of Steve’s neck, and suffocating him with another kiss.

Nancy was taken aback by just how well the two of them seemed to fit, like adjoining pieces of the same puzzle. Steve’s face softened and his eyes relaxed almost instantly when Billy kissed him—just like Billy when he was the one in Steve’s place. They were so easily able to calm each other, make each other feel safe. It was like they could read each other’s minds. Like they knew more than she did.

Nancy would be lying if she said that didn’t strike a nerve. Part of her wished she could be privy to the telepathic conversation taking place between the two, but another part of her wasn’t sure she’d want to know what they weren’t saying out loud, because if they weren’t saying it out loud, maybe it was for good reason.

Nancy thought a little too hard about Billy’s request…or was it a demand? She couldn’t really discern his tone from how low he spoke. She wasn’t very far from them, but the volume in which he had said those words had made it seem like they were a mile away. Those words. God, was it stupid that she never once considered that to be a possibility? She was grateful Billy wasn’t looking at her to see the look on her face, because it wasn't doing all that much to put down the rumor that Nancy Wheeler was a prude. Hell, she was beginning to question it herself because she couldn’t even wrap her mind around the mechanics of it all. Surely it wasn’t the same as what she and Steve did.

Steve. Billy had said it himself, although Steve hadn’t confirmed, she knew the truth. No, of course he hadn’t.

Steve seemed to finally find his bearings, and spoke in stark contrast to the blubbering mess he’d been just moments ago.

“No.” he said, pausing to take what seemed to be a relaxing breath, “You’d be the first.”

There. The confirmation that had Nancy sitting on the edge of her seat. Nancy never thought of Steve being anything mysterious. He seemed to be an open book. But if the past week had taught her anything, it was to stop acting like she knew everything all of the time. But, she couldn’t help but feel a little smug at Steve’s confirmation, because at least there was one thing she’d gotten right.

“But…”

There was always a “but” wasn’t there?

“I’ve done, y’know, that before.”

Without saying another word, Steve pushed himself off of Billy and rolled over to pull something out of his nightstand drawer, leaving both her and Billy speechless with his admission.

So much for Steve being an open book, because in all the conversations they had about Steve’s rendezvous with a good chunk of the girls in his year, somehow anal never came up? Nancy could only sit there and try to think about who. And by the pleased yet shocked look on Billy’s face, she could tell he was wondering the same thing.

Nancy ran through the list of names in her head. Stacy? No way. Lori? Not a chance. Abigail? Well, that name was a surprise to start with as Nancy only ever knew her as the girl who sat in the front pew and carted a bible around along with her textbooks. On the other hand, she wasn’t deaf to the jokes that flew around about girls like Abigail, that “the Jesus freaks are the freakiest in bed”. Perhaps there was actually some truth to that.

Somehow, in her spiral, she’d missed a few steps, and once back in reality she found herself looking at the two boys undressing each other the rest of the way with an alarming amount of haste. She was partly worried, with the way Billy was desperately pulling at Steve’s jeans that he would cause a tear in the denim. Something must’ve been said between the two of them that she hadn’t picked up to warrant it, or perhaps it was just another telepathic exchange she should be grateful she didn’t have to hear.

She wished Steve had thought to take that route with the last thing he said, because that was all she could think about. She continued to run through the list of girls, never quite settling on the most likely candidate. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about it, so rather than wasting her energy on shoving the whole thing down, she twisted it around. Instead of going all detective and trying to suss out the girl, she thought about the boy, about Steve. She thought about what Steve must’ve felt. She thought about what he must’ve looked like, about the sounds he would have made. She wondered if they were anything like the sounds he made when he was with her.

Then, somehow right then, it dawned on her that she wasn’t going to have to continue to wonder.

With that thought, any reservations she had, any worry of being watched or feelings of uncertainty were gone as she let her fingertips breach her waistband.

By the time she’d gathered herself again, her eyes first caught sight of the now larger pile of clothes on the ground, and she didn’t even have to look up to know that the two of them were completely naked. Somehow, when she did look up, the sight did nothing for her. Well, at least, them being naked changed nothing. They were still doing that same little back and forth as before—long desperate kisses and wandering hands—the only difference was there was one less barrier, and less up to the imagination. She’d seen Steve’s naked body a countless number of times before, and as for Billy, there wasn’t anything surprising below the belt. It was exactly as she expected. Nothing for additional intrigue.

It wasn’t too much too fast, which was something she knew she was grateful for. And even though her care over potentially being watched had mostly subsided, it was a lot easier to ease into everything with the two boys in front of her with faces pressed so close that any view they might have had of her would be minimal.

She tried not to think about what she was doing. Everytime she thought too hard about it, it never worked. She’d sink, and her mind would run instead of wander, and the overthinking would get to her right before the cliff's edge, but only ever close enough to see it. Something would stop her before she would ever feel the free fall.

She had to shut off her control when she did it, and let her mind do its own thing. She stared ahead, and looked at what was happening before her—Steve was wielding what she now realized was the bottle of lube he’d pulled from his nightstand drawer, clicking it open, and squeezing what seemed to her like a generous amount onto his outstretched index and middle fingers—and she let her fingers move about, not thinking about where they were going, just blindly chasing the good feeling. Looking for the sweet spot.

Her eyes, having relaxed and nearly shut, darted open as a sudden sound entered her ears. Billy’s voice. Honestly, Nancy wasn’t sure if they hadn’t been talking this whole time, or if her hearing had only just returned.

“You sure you know what you’re doing, pretty boy?” Billy teased.

Surely he did. He said he’d done it before, and she couldn’t imagine it would be that different with Billy being a boy. Billy obviously wasn’t serious with his question. He was clearly meaning to coax something out of Steve. Only Nancy didn’t quite realize that until after he’d coaxed it out of him.

Steve looked cocky, smiling down at Billy with those gel coated fingertips still hovering in the air. “I know the golden rule,” Steve said, and those aforementioned fingers began their downward descent, falling into a place obscured by Billy’s thigh. It didn’t matter that Steve’s hand moved out of her vision, because she could see the chill run through Billy’s body. He inhaled sharply, and exhaled loudly, and Nancy didn’t know exactly what Steve was doing behind Billy’s thighs, but she knew by that reaction that Billy liked it. Steve smiled, proud of himself, and finished what he was saying. “As long as you’re feeling good, then I gotta be doing something right.”

Good God. Nancy knew the words weren’t directed at her but it was too easy to pretend that they were, because right as he said it, her own fingers had found the spot, and it felt more than just good. Steve was definitely doing something right.

Steve had started doing something to Billy. Something more than what he’d already done, because Billy was close to writhing. His neck was flexed as if he was straining to get a good look at Steve’s headboard, and the hand of his that she could see was gripping the fabric on Steve’s bed. For a second, Nancy wondered if he was in pain. Sure, she’d never experienced it for herself, but she could imagine that what Steve was doing, if not done correctly, would hurt. Nancy would have made that assumption based on Billy’s movements alone, but the sounds he was making were telling a different story.

If she wasn’t sure then, that Billy was loving every one of Steve’s moves, she was sure when Steve asked the question.

“How does this feel?” Steve asked, and she could tell by the look in his eye that he already knew the answer, and like her, he just wanted to hear Billy say it.

Billy nodded, almost frantically. “Mmhmm,” was all he managed to get out. It looked like he was preparing to say something else, his mouth open and tongue moving like it was beginning to form a word, when a sharp inhale replaced his voice. Instead of finishing the thought, and saying what he was going to say, he just nodded his head again, somehow even more frantic. Another one of those nonverbal cues, except this time, somehow, Nancy was able to pick up on the meaning too.

More.

“Like that?” Steve asked, again, already knowing the answer. Nancy was beginning to get on the same wavelength, because she knew the answer too. Billy nodded again.

“Feels good.” Billy barely managed to get the words to come out as something coherent. Little did he know that wasn’t necessary, as it seemed they could all read each other’s minds at that moment. “Don’t stop.” he added.

“Good.” Steve said, and Nancy could tell just the praise alone did something to Billy, letting out a small whimper. “You let me know if anything changes.”

Steve was always so attentive. That part wasn’t surprising. But the way it felt being an onlooker was. Not only was watching all the ways Steve was affecting Billy doing a lot for her, but just Steve alone, seeing how he wielded his power and control with a steady hand, how he was so focused on Billy, how he wanted nothing more than to make his partner feel good, first and foremost. It was the kind of thing that got lost in the heat of it all. When Nancy was in Billy’s position, Steve was the same way. Albeit, not as slow and careful as he was with Billy, not treating her as something overly fragile. Still, he was attentive. Always checking in, asking questions just for the sake of asking them, diving into her mind and not taking any advantage while in there. Just exploring, and getting to know the new environment.

While things had been moving very slowly, Steve hadn’t been with Billy for that long in the grand scheme of things. Not as long as he’d been with Nancy. Steve had been given over a year to learn how to read her, and understand her, taking notes each time they had sex on what she liked and didn’t like. He didn’t have that advantage with Billy, so perhaps that was another reason he was taking things slow, aside from the obvious. Thinking back, the first time she and Steve had sex, he was slow with her too. Maybe that should make her feel jealous, that that part wasn’t special. It didn’t.

Her mind was wandering again, and she was losing that feeling. Nancy turned her focus back on the boys. Funnily enough, during all her overthinking about how slow things were progressing, things had started moving way faster than she was expecting.

They were back to kissing, except Steve’s right hand stayed hidden in that space she couldn’t see. Their positions had changed too. Steve had settled himself in between Billy’s spread legs, and Billy hadn’t moved much, but she noticed how his feet had moved further up on the bed, his knees bent at a tighter angle than before. Steve’s other hand was back on Billy’s chest too, and it wasn’t until Nancy noticed that she realized her own hand was still slipped under her bra.

She watched, and matched Steve’s movements, and put herself back into the scene.

For the most part, aside from the satisfaction evident in Steve’s smug smile, Billy was the only one getting any sort of pleasure. At least, that was what Nancy assumed with all of his toe curling and sheet gripping. Steve had seemed too calm and collected to be anywhere near where Billy was at. She wasn’t blind to Billy’s dick. It was hard not to notice with the way it was sticking straight up, almost as if it was begging to be gawked at. She caught Steve glancing down more than once or twice to steal a look, and she didn’t fail to notice the way he bit his lower lip each time. Clearly he was feeling something too, but any visual confirmation like she had with Billy was hidden behind Billy’s fucking thigh. If she wasn’t already busy doing her own thing, she’d have stood up, walked over, and taken a look for herself, like a surgeon over an operating table.

Instead, she just kept looking out for all of Steve’s other visual cues, even going as far as tallying up each and every time Steve’s top teeth dragged against his lower lip.

She had to keep reminding herself to relax, and stop letting her mind wander. She was losing sight of the real task at hand—just enjoying it.

“I think you might be ready.” Steve said, as if Billy was a meal he was preparing.

Billy let out an exhausted groan. “You think?” he said sarcastically, lifting his head as if to gesture in front of him. Billy’s hands were still preoccupied with gripping the sheets. Steve’s fingers must have still been inside of him.

That thought right there sent a wave through her body. She really hadn’t quite grasped exactly what was happening until right then. Knowing was enough to bring the good feeling back, and quickly she was beginning to understand Billy’s urgency.

Steve lifted himself again, and those fingers she’d assumed were just inside of Billy were freed, and she could’ve sworn her heart stopped when she saw it. God, she was being dramatic. She’d seen Steve’s dick countless times, up close and personal, and yet she’d never seen him like that. It was the same, but the person it was attached to…it was an entirely different person. Somehow she hadn’t noticed it before, but Steve was sweating, and shaking. Normally he was so suave, never nervous when it came to sex, and Billy had him shaking.

Wait. Maybe she’d gotten it all wrong. Because the next thing she noticed was that Steve was no longer looking down at Billy.

He was looking over at her.

The illusion had fallen.

He was looking at her going to town on herself and she couldn’t even be bothered to stop. It was too late, he had seen, and somehow him seeing filled her with even more dread than Billy seeing would have.

And Billy. He was still laying there with his eyes looking up at the ceiling, none the wiser about what was happening between her and Steve.

The only thing Nancy could think as to why Steve was that he was upset by what he saw. All that time she’d spent working through her own potential jealousy, never once considering Steve might feel that too when it came down to it. Was he disgusted by her? So many emotions were flooding her head and she felt frozen, which didn’t help her case being stuck with one hand under her shirt and the other in her pants.

She just looked back at him, and tried her damndest to read the expression on her face. She had to have been missing something. She had to.

It felt like she had been staring at him forever, but Billy was still laying there so blissfully unaware that it couldn’t have been that long. She felt like she had to be wrong, because it didn’t make sense. Steve knew it was part of the plan, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Then she saw it. Maybe she only saw it because she was desperately looking for it, but in that expression so desperately trying to hide what he needed, she figured it out. Steve was nervous. He wasn’t jealous. Neither were the reason he was looking at her.

He was just like Billy before, looking at her, waiting for her to let him know it was okay.

She’d said it so many times before that she just assumed it didn’t need to be said again.

Then just one second later, she realized he and Billy weren’t the only ones that needed it. She needed it too.

They both needed to know not only was it okay to want it, but it was okay that they were—very obviously—enjoying it.

Nancy gave him a soft and knowing smile, and nodded her head. She glanced down at Billy and saw he still hadn’t noticed the pause in the action, and she took the opportunity to mouth the words—for extra measure—it’s okay.

Steve smiled, and it was as if he read her mind when he silently repeated her words back to her.

It’s okay.

It was all okay.

And finally—fucking hopefully—they’d jumped the last hurdle.

Steve had gathered his composure and resumed what he’d been originally doing when he lifted himself off of Billy—grabbing the condom, which she presumed he also pulled from the nightstand along with the lube, and sliding it on himself. It appeared to take him a few moments to get Nancy to disappear again. Part of her wished she could just make herself invisible, clearly it would have made things a lot easier.

Nancy was shocked that after every hiccup, every uncertainty, they were still going through with it. She felt stupid, really. How had she been so naive to think it would go smoothly. Maybe it was because it was always so easy with Steve, she figured it wouldn’t change much by just adding one more factor.

But then again, Billy was the additional factor, and perhaps it was her own fault that their initial plans went awry.

She took a deep breath, tossed away the thought, and freed her mind the best she could because she earned it, and she had no intention of giving it up. She couldn’t.

Steve kissed Billy again, consuming him like his lips had been coated with a potion to ease all tensions. Maybe they were. She knew the taste of his cigarette had done something to her. She licked her own lips at the thought, and she found herself craving that familiar taste.

Billy’s eyes were closed, not squeezed shut, but relaxed, like he’d spent all the energy he had to keep them open.

Steve gave Billy one last kiss and hovered there, his breath falling into Billy’s face. Nancy noticed the pink in his cheeks from the concentrated flow of hot air. As Steve was heavily breathing, he was also shifting around his lower half, and one of the hands he was using for support reentered that space out of her vision.

Steve’s face was so close to Billy’s that their noses were touching, and Billy had opened his mouth just slightly, as if trying to swallow Steve’s every exhale, and the words that were soon to follow.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” Steve said, and her own heart fluttered at the comment, but she pushed any extra thoughts about it away. “Tell me how it feels.”

Nancy took a deep breath, and held it.

She didn’t release it until Billy had opened his eyes.

It looked like at the same moment she released her breath, Billy started to hold his.

He looked stunned for a second, but it was short enough that neither her nor Steve had the chance to react before Billy eased their worries, when the wide eyes and clenched jaw and tightly sealed lips were followed up by a long, deep, and seemingly unintentional moan. It was breathy, almost like Steve had knocked the wind out of him.

Nancy’s eyes darted back and forth between Billy and Steve’s faces. Billy was still all wide eyed and open mouthed, but more relaxed, like the only facial muscles he had the use of were the ones controlling his eyelids. Steve was all focus, with his trained eyes and tight jaw. At first glance he seemed like he had it all together, but Nancy also noticed the hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, his own heavy breaths and stifled vocalizations and knew his mask was falling off right along with Billy’s.

Nancy didn’t have a mask on to begin with. She’d put all her chips in on the assumption that she’d be like a fly on the wall, going completely unnoticed so long as she didn’t provoke them. She’d been doing a pretty good job at not paying attention to her own actions and letting whatever wanted to happen, happen. While it felt good—God, it felt good—her masklessness ran the risk of humiliation. She’d been paying so little attention to her own actions that as she sat there, reveling in each and every one of Billy’s moans, she was completely deaf to whether or not she was making those same sounds. The tingling and shockwaves would have absolutely warranted it for where she was at right around then. Every orbit of her two fingers against her clit was enough to at least make her feel a little breathless each time.

Nancy couldn’t pull her eyes away from Steve’s bare hips, wearing Billy’s legs like a belt, ankles locked together and pressing into Steve’s lower back. She found herself glancing from mole to mole, mapping the constellations in her head. She’d never seen them from that angle before, so used to only ever tracing the moles on his back while he was asleep. It was like she was staring at an entirely new night sky, with so many stars yet to be named.

Even in the dim light, it seemed as though Billy glowed bright enough to reveal more than she’d ever been able to see.

Her eyes naturally fell to that one mole on his side that seemed like it was all alone. Bigger than all the others, just begging for her attention. Steve’s hips were moving at a much slower pace than what she was used to, and she was surprised that Billy wasn’t begging him “faster, faster,” like she would have expected—like she had been doing in the back of her mind. Their respective paces were mismatched, which made things slightly more difficult, but Nancy responded in the only way she knew how, and that was to simply follow Steve’s lead.

Edging wasn’t exactly easy without someone else’s manipulation, but Nancy was always up for a challenge.

She just kept focusing on all of the little details. Billy’s legs spread so wide she thought about how she could test just how flexible he really was. The pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Steve’s lower back, creating crevasses and making themselves a home under Steve’s skin. Steve’s lips seemed to have a magnetic pull against them, landing anywhere and everywhere on Billy’s body that they could reach, admiring and relishing in it all as if Billy was something to be prized and worshiped.

Billy whimpered, the sound caught in the back of his throat somehow making its way passed his tightly sealed lips and heard.

Nancy continued to slow down, continued to focus on the little things, trying her best not to be too swayed by the sounds Billy was making. She wanted to match right up with them, perfectly in sync like a pair of world class synchronized swimmers. Billy’s toes curled, so did hers. She faked it, responding with his every move with an identical move until she didn’t have to anymore, and their breaths became perfectly aligned. The illusion became clear.

“Fuck, Steve.” Billy said with all of his breath. It was the first thing either of them had said since the beginning of their whole ordeal. Or, maybe they had said something prior, and Nancy had just been way too deep inside her head to hear any of it as it was said. Billy’s voice sounded nothing like it had before. That deep voice she just knew was fake was completely gone. The pitch was high, nearly unrecognizable and entirely authentic. The sound of his voice drew her attention back to him, and of course out of all the things to catch her eyes first, it was that dumb head of hair.

She never really appreciated how golden it was. Those blonde curls splayed against the mattress, gleaming from what little light poured in from outside Steve’s windows. It was pretty, she thought, and that surprised her. ‘Pretty’ was rarely a term she’d ever associated with a boy. In fact, the only boy she’d ever really thought was pretty was Steve—his deep brown eyes and chestnut brown hair all paired together with that soft smile—Steve was pretty. Billy wasn’t pretty, at least, she didn’t think so before. He was tough, gruff—he looked like he was born to be covered in grease and adorned with leather. Pretty—to Nancy—always meant soft. Billy wasn’t soft. He was hardened, rigid, sharp as a knife.

That was what she thought.

But looking at him underneath Steve—the soft hair, the soft features, the soft skin…god…Billy was so pretty. Blue eyes, golden hair with skin shown so much love from the sun, the curves of his body looking like the never-touched dunes in the desert, making a shape she wanted to trace with her fingers.

Billy whimpered again, and her entire body felt it.

God, she wanted to touch him. She wanted to be closer.

She felt so far away, despite being just barely out of arm's reach. The distance seemed to only grow right along with her desire to become part of it all, fully, in every way.

Billy moaned again, and so did Steve, simultaneously, like Steve was the melody and Billy was the harmony. They made a beautiful song together. Nancy wasn’t sure how she felt admitting that, but it was the truth.

Looking up, pulling herself from her thought tornado, she finally started to grasp the situation. She’d been so inside her head, she’d missed so much.

Billy was panting like he was on the brink of passing out, and Steve didn’t look much better. He was fucking Billy. Like, truly, fucking Billy. Nancy could only stare as he thrusted himself in and out at a very quick pace.

That was also the moment she realized that she’d fallen behind.

Those moans and whimpers only grew in frequency, right along with the release of desperate expletives and pleas from both parties taking up space on the bed. They were close. If Nancy didn’t know just by the scene alone, she knew for sure when Billy began to chant it—alerting everyone in the room the he was on the brink.

Nancy wasn’t, not even remotely. She’d been so focused on slowing herself down, she’d been lapped.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too,” Steve exhaled the words, “cum with me.”

Nobody was waiting for her, and it was clear she had no shot at catching up now. Perhaps last place was just her destiny.

One of Steve’s hands traveled down until it had found itself wrapped around Billy’s cock, red-tipped and leaking pre, visibly aching to be touched. Steve’s other hand stayed put on Billy’s chest, squeezing Billy’s pec like it was his own personal stress reliever, making a point to drag a thumb over an erect nipple, keeping Billy extra stimulated.

Nancy was out of breath just watching. She’d picked up her pace and she felt close, just not close enough. Billy and Steve were miles ahead of her, assisted by their raging teenage boy hormones.

Billy’s lower lips stayed trapped between his teeth, for so long and with so much force Nancy was sure there’d be permanent indentations left after they finally released their hold. Still, even with all that effort, he couldn’t keep the cacophony at bay. Nancy just wished he’d let it out, because the sounds we’re doing just as much to her as the sight of the whole thing was.

Nope. Too late. It was too late.

The next thing she knew, as she sat there shamelessly touching herself, standing on her tallest tiptoes trying to reach the height the two boys in front of her were at, they were coming. She watched as Billy’s cum shot up and coated Steve’s stomach. She couldn’t actually see Steve coming as he was still buried deep inside Billy, but she could see it in his face—the way his jaw went slack and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. She just kept trying, trying, trying.

Steve rolled over and collapsed on his back, completely spent. Nancy wasn’t sure exactly just how much time had elapsed, but it felt like an eternity and nothing at all at the exact same time. It was certainly not enough time for her as she sat there, the moment ruined, her orgasm hanging in the air just too far out of her reach.

She sat there and she closed her eyes, stretching as much as she could to reach what was so close, yet so far—too far. It was just too far.

Her breath remained unsteady as she sat there, daring to open her eyes again to take a look at the scene in front of her. At least they managed to enjoy themselves. That was what Nancy said she wanted. Right? Make Steve happy. Make him feel good. That was supposed to be enough, she thought.

She opened her eyes, and felt the immediate urge to shut them right back up when they were met with a pair of piercing blue from across the room. Billy was lying on his back, his hands coming to rest of his chest, right on top of Steve’s hand that remained through all of it. Billy was looking right at her. Steve wasn’t. He was on the side of Billy opposite of her, shielded by Billy’s body with his face buried in the pillows. He couldn’t possibly have known of the full conversation happening between her and Billy with just their stares alone.

Billy’s eyes barely moved from where they were locked in on hers, just glancing down for less than a second, looking straight at where her hand still breached the barrier of her waistband…then right back up. She half expected the next look to say it all, fill her with shame—it didn’t.

The look was almost…sad…in a way. She had no idea what she must have looked like from Billy’s point of view, but with a look like that, she could only assume she looked like a pathetic wreck. She assumed that the sad look was pitying.

She wanted to move—fix herself up and make herself more presentable, because she didn’t like how it felt as if there was a spotlight shining directly on her, lighting up all of her deepest insecurities for even the people sitting high up in the nosebleeds to see. None of what was happening was a part of her plan…although, thinking back, she never really got that far. She never considered what would happen in the aftermath.

But was it really the aftermath? In Billy’s eyes, maybe. In Steve’s eyes, definitely. But in her eyes?

Things hadn’t finished for her just yet. The only problem was, she was at a loss as to how she could possibly go about continuing.

Billy still stared at her, which only seemed to further complicate everything going on inside her head. She didn’t like how she couldn’t read his expression. Billy Hargrove was proving to be the one mystery she might need a little help with solving. She’d been going full sleuth all night, only to have been played a fool by Billy’s red herring.

His eyes on her made her skin crawl, and she did everything she could with her own stare to make him look away, or at the very least stop looking at her like that. Time felt frozen with his eyes on her. It felt like an eternity had passed.

She just stared back harder, adorning a look on her face just like El’s when she was moving things with her mind…angry looking—a little—but mostly just focused.

She felt stupid with her face stuck like that. She was just waiting for the pin to drop and the chorus of laughter to commence. That was always how it happened in movies. Somebody would do something embarrassing and not a soul alive wasn’t there to witness, taking only a second before raising their arms to point and laugh. They’d form a circle around her. They’d get closer and closer and she’d feel like the walls were closing in and soon enough she’d find breathing to be the hardest thing to do.

Of course, in actuality, it wasn’t like the movies. Nothing was. Not this time.

Those eyes that once stared at her, so unreadable, vanished, turned away in the opposite direction.

She took a breath, relaxing only a little. Then she realized.

Those eyes were facing Steve.

Suddenly all she wanted was him to look at her again, or at the very least, see what they looked like…despite the fact that they never told her a thing.

She didn’t like any of what was going on. She didn’t like how it felt like she was just waiting for something to happen. She didn’t like how it felt like she had lost all of her control over the situation. She hated that the most, being left to the mercy of other people.

Then, there was whispering, and she hated that even more.

It was what she’d asked for, to be left out of the equation—that pesky little remainder in a division problem.

She thought that was what she wanted.

It was becoming more and more evident by the minute that, even if their equation wasn’t clean, where everything could just be so evenly divided, she wanted to be a part of it—included, like a fraction, rational.

She wanted to know what they were saying.

She wanted to ask. She wanted to use that snark she practiced so well and remind them that whispering was rude when other people were around. She wanted to inject herself into their conversation, and she would have if her lips hadn’t felt like they’d been sealed shut.

It was awful. She felt so weak. She hated feeling weak.

She wanted to scream, but those sealed lips wouldn’t come loose even for that.

The whispering stopped. That was the first thing she noticed. Then, she noticed blue eyes back on her. Then she noticed those blue eyes had company.

Steve was finally looking at her. For a moment, when it was just Billy looking at her, she’d forgotten Steve was even in the room.

Usually she loved it when Steve looked at her. She loved when his eyes would always find hers from across any room, or when they were alone, watching something on TV, and his eyes would drift off the screen just to stare at her. She loved it especially when they were having sex, when he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, his pupils blown wide. Earlier, she had been hoping he’d look over at her. Now, all she wanted was for him to look away.

The eyes on Steve were just like the eyes on Billy. Sure they were deep brown, not a piercing blue. They weren’t that look of love and lust she had been yearning for. They were sad eyes of unnecessary concern and the weakness continued to seep into her.

Then there was a shift, and her gaze was pulled from the trance of Steve’s eyes, down just slightly to the source of the sound—the creaking crumple of moving limbs on a spring mattress.

Billy had rolled over onto his side, his whole naked body turned towards her. It was a vulnerable position, she noted. She thought back to the beginning of the night…god…how long ago was that? For her it felt like it had been forever ago, but really it could’ve only been a matter of maybe twenty minutes…

Twenty minutes or forever ago, Billy had been in her position—put on the spot, nervous, out of the loop, terrified, uncertain…there were more words, all of them running through her head like she’d consumed the whole thesaurus. There Billy was, lying in a bed with her boyfriend, fully naked, still coming down from the effects of the orgasm said boyfriend had given him. There he was with an outstretched hand, branching out towards her.

She remembered looking at him, smiling, and attempting to settle all those nerves he’d built up inside of him with her simple “it’s okay, Billy.”

She could only assume that was what the outstretched arm was. It was Billy—and Steve’s—way of telling her that it was okay.

It shouldn’t have been so simple, but upon her own realization, the tightness in her gut began to dissipate.

It was little, minuscule, but enough nonetheless to at least melt her out of her frozen situation—the hand that had stayed beneath the wire of her bra, clinging to her breast like a lifeline, moved down and out, and slowly met Billy’s still outstretched hand.

It felt so weird, especially with her other hand still where it was. She wanted to move it for dignity’s sake, but at the same time…she wanted to finish. Usually, she was okay with going without, but not now. Not this time. This time was different. It was her idea. She’d been thinking about it everyday for a week. She deserved her own happy ending just as much as they did.

She just kept looking back at them, trying to make them feel just as vulnerable as she did so that they were all finally on a level playing field.

Nancy hadn’t realized until her hand had finally made contact with Billy’s, their fingertips grazing past one another until they were both holding on, and she’d felt a pull…she may have misinterpreted the meaning of the outstretched hand.

Billy hadn’t yanked her by any means, but the pull was still strong. Strong enough that, given how she was caught so off guard, she was easily carried out of her chair. She had no way to fight against what she hadn’t expected in the first place. She quickly went from a seated position to standing, the heel she’d been riding falling to the floor with an ungraceful thump to the floor. Everything had, somehow, become ten times more awkward than it had the whole night…and obviously, that was saying something.

The night hadn’t seemed to really follow the rules of time. It was forever and twenty minutes, alternating between moments of fast and slow. Always too fast, and too slow.

This was the first time in the night that the timing seemed just right. Because everything started moving really fast.

Billy had sat up and moved his body to the edge of the bed, leaving an open space next to a rather confused Steve.

He’s leaving?

That was Nancy’s first thought. She could hardly admit it to herself, but there was no denying the feeling. Every ache in her gut told her she did not want that.

Though, she still hadn’t found her voice yet to say anything about it.

Billy was still holding her hand, and guiding her. She liked this. Normally she liked being the one in control—the one with the game plan—but in this instance, she was happy to follow someone else’s lead. She’d had enough of a spotlight.

Billy had guided her exactly where she expected, right into that open spot next to Steve, who just looked at her with a smile. By this point, Billy had finally let go, and she’d finally pulled her hand out from her waistband, making both hands free to do exactly what she’d been dying to do…touch.

She brought her hand up to cup Steve’s face, and she couldn’t hold herself back from kissing him. She had to. She thought she might die if she didn’t. She could also tell he was a bit shaky, part of it likely due to his own come down—she’d never seen him cum like that before…she knew, logically, that should’ve made her feel a type of way. It didn’t.

The other reason for the shakiness, well, that was just the even playing field at work.

The kiss was short, just enough for a taste and the gift of some much needed confidence. They parted, and she was surprised to find that Billy had made no attempt to make his escape. He just stood there looking at them with his knees pressing against the edge of the bed.

She half expected time to slow, just like it had in all her moments of uncertainty, but the speed continued to progress.

Billy bent over, wrapping his hands around Nancy’s ankles as he crawled back onto the bed.

Okay. So. He definitely wasn’t leaving.

Nancy looked to Steve, hoping he’d have an answer to at least one of the million questions flying through his head. He seemed to be able to read her mind. Unfortunately for her, she was only met with the shake of a head. So he couldn’t even answer one. Great.

Billy’s hands began to move north. Up. Up. They were at her knees.

Too fast.

She went to speak, but none of the words she had on her tongue would come out. All she could do to tell him to slow down was to tense, and pull her knees up.

“Sorry.” Billy said, and again, she realized, they’d been silent that whole time. Billy was the only one with the courage to speak.

Nancy took a deep breath, reminding her of everything she had witnessed up until this point. Reminding herself that Billy wasn’t scary, that she had Steve right beside her, that everything was equally scary for all three of them.

“What’s happening?” She managed to get those two words out. No more than that, just enough. She was less focused on the chosen words and more on the tone of voice, making sure she didn’t come off as angry or annoyed or any other emotion other than curiosity, because if what she thought was happening was indeed happening…she really didn’t want to scare him off.

She just wanted to be in the loop.

Billy still looked like he’d been frightened in spite of Nancy’s attempts, but he didn’t pull his hands away. They were still touching her knees. That had to count for something.

Nancy wanted to look over at Steve. She could feel his heavy breathing on her neck. She couldn’t, though. She had to keep her eyes on Billy as she awaited an answer.

Which was the best decision, because she was able to watch the lines on his face change with a release of tension as the fright formed into a new emotion. She got to watch as he put on a shy smile—shy…huh, she was still getting used to that.

“I just figured…” he began. His words were slow and obviously carefully chosen. “It’s not fair that only Steve and I have all the fun.”

Nancy felt her breath stop, the sharp inhale lodged in the back of her throat. Her whole body felt like it had gone numb, all except for her stomach, where she could feel the butterflies coming to life again.

“I thought—” the two words came out of her mouth in haste, the thoughts in her head being forced into words on her lips, no idea of the ones that would follow. Fortunately for her, the thought that had come out was an incomplete one, giving her ample time to clamp her lips closed and finish her thought before sharing it with the rest of the world.

She thought…she thought…Fuck! She didn’t even know what she thought, or, at least, her brain was suddenly at a loss for the word…or…well…the appropriate word.

In the narrative she created in her head, Billy only had eyes for Steve—for the boy, not the girl. In the story she wrote, Billy’s womanizer reputation was merely a facade, or a cover. It wasn’t truth. She’d been picking up evidence all night that seemed to prove every suspicion, theory, and story she came up with about that one piece. All until the moment Billy laid his hands on her. She thought…

“I thought,” she repeated, the words leaving her again without warning, “you were…?”

She trailed off, the unsaid word left hanging in the hair. She’d found the word she’d been looking for, but she couldn’t say it. It wasn’t the kind of word you said out loud in Indiana.

Billy seemed to understand that fact too, probably a lot more intimately than she did, judging by the look on his face. He looked relieved that she hadn’t said it. Then he sighed. “I am,” he said simply.

She had to double back, make sure he was answering the question she thought she had asked him. It just made her even more confused. “But?” Again with the incomplete sentences.

Billy was quick to respond. “It’s not like it’s a hardship, Nancy,” he said. “You wouldn’t be the first girl, and I’m sure you’ve heard the reviews.”

She had. Of course she had. She could always hear the girls whispering and giggling at the back of the class, going on and on about how Billy would go down on them. Initially, the first time she heard it, it made her want to gag.

Billy hadn’t existed in her pool of interest. Not until Steve had dragged him in against her will just to leave her sitting there with Billy at her knees, with the proposition at her feet, thinking about all those things she once heard those girls say and no longer feeling the need to gag.

“Are you sure?” It was all she could think to ask, because she feared saying anything more might scare him off. It was his fault she was thinking about the rumors. It was his fault she was curious to see for herself how true they were, even if curiosity had struck before. She pushed away that little part of herself that wanted to pry into Billy’s whole ordeal, and dissect the slight frown that disappeared quickly. She could worry about that later.

She just shook it off, and focused her attention back on Billy, staring him down like she was drilling holes with her eyes.

“I offered,” he said simply, “if it’s fine by you two, it’s fine by me.”

You two. Right. There were three of them there.

Steve was still at her side. She’d forgotten he was even there. Everything had just felt so intimate between her and Billy in that moment. She looked over at him, her neck feeling a little stiff, and she wondered if it actually felt that way, or if her brain was just tricking her to keep her from looking away from Billy.

Billy who was promising her Heaven, or something close to it.

Still, she strained against her muscles to look over at Steve, because of course he was the one standing in her way.

It was only fair, she thought. She was simply reiterating Billy’s initial point, but it remained true in her mind.

But, they hadn’t discussed anywhere beyond what Steve was allowed to do with Billy. They never ventured into the territory of herself taking part in the activity. Was it really fair to assume Steve would be okay with it? It was her idea after all, not his.

She looked at him, expecting an answer to come eventually, all the while mulling over everything and trying to reach a conclusion of what she might do if Steve were to decide he wasn’t okay with it.

Steve wasn’t looking at Billy when he next spoke. He looked at her, and every instinct was telling her to turn away, terrified of the look on Steve’s face when he would inevitably say no. She tried to look away, but she was frozen, forced to witness it all crumble before her eyes.

Except, everything remained intact. The foundation stayed strong enough to hold them.

It appeared Steve had been just as limited for words as she was, saying “yes” and “it’s okay with me” and anything else she and Billy may have needed to confirm consent with a simple nod of his head, and little reluctance behind his eyes.

And the reason behind that minimal reluctance was made clear by the few words he managed to ask Billy.

“What do I…?” Steve couldn’t finish his sentences either, apparently. What do I do during all of this? That was the question he was trying to ask. It was a good question, and she’d learned early on that Steve preferred to have a game plan.

Billy smiled at that, and it was in that moment that Billy finally took his hands off of her knees. The weight being lifted off of her made it feel as though her legs were levitating off of the bed.

Billy was crawling forward, except not towards her, but towards Steve. It only took him half of a foot in length to reach him, but once he did, he didn’t even take a breath before kissing Steve.

It was different that time. It wasn’t filled with heat and lust. It was closer to the kind of kiss someone might give to their significant other in the morning. Soft and chaste. It was like the kisses Steve gave her behind the privacy of an open locker door while the bell was still ringing.

Though, from the outside perspective looking in, the feeling it gave her was nowhere near the same. The blood quickly rushed to her cheeks and the butterflies that had seemed to have gone dormant in her bout of anxiety sprang back to life, fluttering around inside her stomach, and down. Tingling.

She watched Steve sink and melt and it was as if all of his worries had been swept away with the single, soft touch of Billy’s lips. It was incredible, really. You never really get the time to think too much about how a kiss makes you feel, so caught up in the moment, the memory of it only tangible during contact. She could see it now, though, and she wondered if Steve looked like that when he was kissing her. She could only hope.

The kiss was short, but to her it had felt like time had frozen still and she was just privy to their freeze frame. In reality it was just her own mind failing to keep up with the fastly growing pace of everything, when suddenly they had parted and Billy finally gave an answer to Steve’s unfinished question.

“Just kiss your girlfriend, Steve.” he said, his hand still gracing the side of Steve’s cheek, “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Billy’s voice was both incredibly reassuring and enticing. He backed away from Steve and looked at Nancy again, asking the question with his eyes alone, and earning a nod, no more words were left to be exchanged.

Billy’s hands made their way back to her knees, and she tried to watch as the moments started to unfold, but her vision was cut off by the boy to her left, taking her gently by the chin and doing just as Billy had said.

The weight of her own head had quickly become too heavy for her neck to hold, and she slowly lowered herself down until her head met the pillow, not once parting her and Steve’s connection at the lips. She was truly sinking—melting, just as Steve had been just seconds before. She was feeling every feeling she had witnessed, feeling the drug of Steve’s kiss begin to take effect, washing her cares away, and allowing her to succumb to the moment.

The moment—Billy’s hands running up her inner thighs and up onto her hips, feeling his hands form a ‘V’ at the thumbs, framing her like a photo.

He was slow with her, just like Steve had been with him. Perhaps that was where he learned it from, absorbing it all like a sponge. She was given every chance to stop his next move. She didn’t.

She held her breath as Billy’s fingers grazed the skin below her navel. She had become hyper aware in that moment of just how desperately she needed to be touched. She pulled back from Steve, resting her forehead against his in a moment of weakness. The contact at least gave her back her ability to breathe, the heat of her breath falling right into Steve’s open mouth.

Steve’s hands started to move, no longer pressed into the mattress in an attempt to keep his posture. They were snaking around to the small of her back, below the fabric of her shirt, skin against skin. His hand moved up her back along with the hem of her shirt, slowly rising to expose her whole stomach. The chill of the open air against previously covered skin caused her to shiver.

Steve took that as an opportunity to swallow her hot breath, kissing her while continuing to inch his hand up her back until he finally found what he was looking for—the clasp of her bra. It was something he’d always been so boisterous about—his ability to unclasp a bra with only one hand. To her and every other girl, it wasn’t that much of a talent, but she couldn’t say she minded that he was always so smooth with it.

Though, it was hard for her to focus on any of that when Billy was slowly unbuttoning and unzipping her, revealing her, exposing the one part of her that was just aching to be touched. The barrier slowly—teasingly—being removed just made that area even more desperate for stimulation.

Her focus on one single thing started to wane as both Steve and Billy’s hands started to do different but equal things to her on opposite sides of her body. Steve’s hands slithered to her front, stopping to rest just below the now loose underwire. She knew her chest was rising visibly, and she knew that Steve could feel it. Maybe that was why he let his hand sit there unmoving.

Though, there was no way Steve could’ve been sure that he was the one responsible for her heavy breathing, because Nancy wasn’t even too sure herself, not with Billy below her waist with a rogue finger sliding below the line of her underwear, not quite touching her yet, but definitely too close for comfort.

Just the thought alone of how close caused something inside of her to escape. Something that she knew would have been better kept hidden, at least for her own pride’s sake. The sound escaped past her lips, and despite them being smothered by Steve’s, there was no doubt the sound was heard.

She could barely hear a thing, it was like her ears were clogged shut, cause the laugh that escaped Billy’s mouth was muffled. But, she didn’t have to hear him laugh to know that he had heard her, because that rogue finger sliding around started to move closer…and closer…and…

Stars.

She squeezed her eyes shut so tight that she really was seeing stars, and just as she was beginning to feel a little less like she was falling from the sky, Steve had to keep on moving that damn hand of his, up…and up…and up…

“Mmm-Fuck.”

If she hadn’t lost all sensation in her arms, she would’ve slapped a hand right over her mouth. She just kept her eyes shut, because even if logically she knew neither of them were laughing at her, she simply couldn’t bear to look.

She just closed her eyes, kept them closed, and reminded herself of everything that preceded her lying on that bed with not one, but two other men…boys?? Whatever. She kept letting herself forget that little mantra—pretend like nobody’s watching. She just wished they would tell her…though, she guessed she shouldn’t complain considering the feeling she was trying to hide, that good—amazing—feeling…well, she was just going to have to let them continue to work their magic.

Even with her eyes sealed shut, she could see every move they made like a movie playing on the inside of her eyelids. Every physical sensation was so visual. The cool air meeting her once covered hips following the friction of denim dragging against sweaty skin, the weight of Steve’s hand over her breast, his palm warm, and his tongue licking into her mouth, slow and savoring—she could see it all. It was like it wasn’t her. It was like she was watching someone else be stripped down and felt up.

Though, the only thing she cared about was the fact that it was working. She was relaxed, and it felt good.

Really good.

Before she knew it, her jeans were being pulled over her ankles, and she couldn’t even care about how exposed she was, wearing nothing but a hiked up shirt and lacey panties. All she could care about was how close she was from going from feeling really good to insanely good.

Finally regaining strength in her arms, she reached up and pulled Steve in closer, deepening the kiss. She wasn’t afraid when he was close. She was starting to realize she had nothing to fear about Billy either. In some weird and twisted way, his presence was a comfort too.

It was very possible it was only the lust talking, but she didn’t have the time or the care to dissect any of that.

Her near-limp body rolled as Billy inched his way back up the bed, his weight creating dips in the mattress that she fell into. Billy’s breath was hot against her stomach, and she knew what that meant. Not just that Billy’s face was there—the temperature giving her something very vivid to cast in the blank space created from her still closed eyes—but…his face was there. It was close. Everything she wanted was right there.

All she could hear were the echoes of past gossip about Billy Hargrove that she never managed to tune out, no matter how hard she tried.

“So…is Billy a good kisser?”

The group of girls in the back of the lunchroom sat huddled, as if that had given them any semblance of privacy. The reality was that their giggles could be heard throughout the whole cafeteria. Nancy walked by the group with her lunch tray, annoyed by their loud whispering.

She couldn’t understand how Hargrove had gotten all the other girls to swoon over him, and she was tired of hearing about it. He’d barely been in town for a week.

Though, she couldn’t help herself but listen in. She didn’t want to hear about Billy’s sexcapades with the entire Hawkins High female population, necessarily. But at the same time, she liked to have all the info, and for some reason she needed to add whether or not Billy Hargrove was a good kisser into his file she had stored in her brain.

Out of the corner of her eye Nancy could see that the girl who had been posed the question was blushing red and laughing nervously. She had her head bowed slightly and didn’t meet eyes with any of her friends sharing a table with her.

“You could say that.” she said.

Nancy nearly stopped dead in her tracks. The tone of that girl's voice said a lot more than what she was telling anyone with her words. If that hadn’t been obvious enough, the gasp let out by another girl at the table sealed the deal.

“Are you saying???!!”

“He DIDN’T!!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

Fortunately for Nancy she’d reached her table by that point, so nobody had to witness what would’ve happened had she not had a steady surface to rest against has her knees buckled.

She was pulled out of her thoughts from the sensation of her body growing colder, caused by more absent clothing. She felt the cool air hit her chest first, as Steve began lifting her shirt up until the bottom hem had reached her neck. It was then that they parted once more, but only for as long as it took to get her shirt over her head and take her bra the rest of the way off.

She had been so preoccupied with that, and working through the straight jacket her tight fitting top had created for her, that she only noticed the breeze on her lower half when her panties were already halfway down to her knees.

The only way she could describe the situation was that it felt heavy. Like she had been pinned by a barbell loaded with too much weight.

Then Steve put his lips back on her and she felt just a little bit lighter, her back arching a little bit more on the bed, and it quickly started to make some sense. Though, it wasn’t something she could quite put into words.

Steve sucked the weight from her. That was the best she could do. She watched as her vision fully faded despite her eyes being wide open. Aside from that, every sensation was heightened tenfold. She could feel the hairs on her arms stand up like evergreens, she could hear the quietest sound from Steve’s swallow to Billy’s lips smacking.

She could feel Billy’s every exhale brush her skin. His nose wasn’t touching her, but it might as well have been because she swore she could feel it.

Which meant she was not at all prepared for what it would be like to actually feel it.

It was the build up, the anticipation, the vivid thought and imagination about what it would be like. It was something she never really allowed herself to want or crave and it was in her hands.

For a while, it all seemed to wrong. It seemed wrong to want something like that. It seemed wrong to want something like that while simultaneously having a boyfriend. Every step they had taken since Steve admitted to her what he and Billy had done in the boys bathroom at school had felt like a step in the wrong direction. It wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Everyone would say that.

But Nancy knew. She knew this was right.

She was ready to narrate the whole thing like the moon landing, countdown and dramatic effect, but before she could even start counting…

Touchdown.

The first thing she felt was nothing at all, but everything at the same time. It was so intense that it was like her nerves shut down for a few moments, like someone going into shock. The world seemed to slow to a stop. Steve’s lips on her neck felt like they were barely moving, and Billy…

Before she could even process what was going on in that region, the world picked up the pace, and everything was back to regular speed…which, after spending an eternity in slow-motion, felt entirely too fast.

She could gather two things about what Billy was doing to her. The specific actions were lost, but what she did know was that A. it felt amazing, and B. he clearly knew what he was doing. What started out as intense pressure grew into something more, leading her to fall even deeper into the absolute mess she was before. Her toes curled so tight they started to cramp. Her hands gripping tightly where they’d found themselves buried into Steve’s hair like she was holding on for dear life.

Steve didn’t react much at all to his own hair being ripped from his scalp, making no effort to move himself away from where he laid with his face buried in the crook of her neck.

She wondered if he really knew what Billy was doing to her two feet away from him. His lips hadn’t once left their place against her skin, not enough for his eyes to catch a glimpse of what she could only imagine to be an intensely pornographic display. Nothing but Billy’s stray blonde curls peeking out between her spread legs. Framing him perfectly. Like an art piece. She’d be staring if she could only lift her head up.

How could Steve not want to look?

Why did she want him to?

Maybe it was just her dying to live vicariously through him. Maybe it was because at least she could see the look on his face. Maybe it was because at least someone would get to see.

Holy Hell, she was really letting herself get swept away by the Billy Hargrove effect.

Somehow that was the most embarrassing thing of all.

Nonetheless, despite being overtaken by everything else happening upon the weight of so many thoughts screaming through her head, she mustered up the energy to strip Steve away from her collarbone. Rolling her head towards him and pushing him out of the way. A free hand reaching up and lifting him up just a couple inches towards the sky. Enough to shock him into taking his first deep breath in what to her had felt like forever.

She finally opened her eyes, and they had been squeezed shut so tightly for so long that it took a little more than a few seconds to adjust and make out Steve’s face. When she finally could, he was still staring down at her. But the look in his eyes wasn’t one of focus. His eyes weren’t stuck on her like glue like the boys in the movies watching the girl of their dreams walk past them, unable to look away. His eyes were focused, like he was straining to keep them turned her way. It wasn’t like the rest of the world had disappeared, like Billy wasn’t there. She could see that he knew, that he felt like he couldn’t allow himself to look.

She knew because she knew the feeling. Afraid to look. Afraid to let herself have that. Afraid of what people might think if they knew.

Fuck that.

With those same two fingers that still grazed Steve’s chin, she gave him the push that she had given herself. The shove over the cliff, trusting the water to break your fall. Trusting that everything would be fine in the end, and you’d be glad that you did it.

He didn’t fight the nudge, like he was waiting for her to give him that. Permission. She had already given him that, but she recognized that the doubt wasn’t just going to go away with a magic word.

It was wrong. That was how they had all been raised. They weren’t supposed to want this, and if they found themselves with the temptation, they were supposed to push it down. Out of sight. Never indulge.

If she could find the words, she’d remind him that they were well past that.

But the nudge was enough. She was no longer the focus of Steve’s attention. Billy was. She felt him against her hip. He was hard…again. It was impossible to miss with Steve instinctively using the side of her body for friction.

And Nancy had the perfect view as Steve’s pupils were blown wide. The perfect view of his mouth dropping open, drool pooling at his lower lip, the breath being sucked out of him, along with the word that seemed to be on everybody’s tongue.

“Fuck.”

That did it. That had done it. It was like her lungs suddenly stopped taking in air and the floaty, out-of-body fantasyland she was just living in disappeared at the seams.

It was back to high-speed, feeling every sensation, everywhere, so overwhelming, so right. She was watching it all unfold right inside Steve’s eyes. For a second she could actually see a birds eye view of the whole scene. She could see everything Steve was seeing. She could see Billy buried between her thighs, refusing to come up for air—she’d overheard somewhere that he was a swimmer, figures—using every trick in the book, everything he had at his disposal. It was everything. God it was everything.

It was happening. She knew that and Steve must’ve noticed something too seeing as how the hand of his that had still been on her breast had flinched, like he was trying to reach for something else…someone else.

Nancy stopped him in his tracks, though. Slamming her hand right on top of his because it was happening. She looked at him desperately, her chest rising up and down erratically. Steve glanced her way for just a second long enough to see, looking away from Billy, which she could only assume felt impossible, judging by the look of absolute desire written all over his face.

Then he did even more of the impossible. He took one last glance over at Billy, his breathing stopping completely, biting his lips, his eyes glossed over because he didn’t dare blink. He was savoring the moment, she figured out, because the next thing she knew Steve was no longer looking at Billy, nor was he looking at her. The world went dark as Steve’s frame eclipsed her view completely, sinking down into her lips. His hands remained where she kept them, starting to move once more, no longer stunned frozen by southern beauty.

And Billy, she hadn’t forgotten about him. No amount of mind wandering and Steve existing was taking her attention away from down below. Her toes were curling more than what she believed to be physically possible. The hand still on top of Steve’s was gripping him like a life preserver, sure enough to leave a bruise or two. Both of them with their mouths on her…it was entirely and blissfully suffocating.

She was fully engulfed, she couldn’t get any breath in or out and yet there was still enough open space for the noises to escape past her lips. A whimper followed by a moan that caused Steve to let up just enough to crack a smile. Billy didn’t let it affect him though, he didn’t stop, he kept going, taking everything with him to the finish line.

It was right there. She could taste it.

Right…

There.

All at once her heels slid down the mattress until her legs were perfectly straight and her toes were pointed like a ballerina, her grip on Steve tensed even harder, so hard she was sure she heard him whimper out in pain, her back arched so high that she wasn’t so sure she wasn’t being pulled to the ceiling by some invisible string.

All of that happened as quick as it disappeared, her legs went numb, her hand went limp, she sunk back down into the mattress and it felt like she was falling, as if the mattress was no longer there to stop her descent.

The world had gone dark. Like everything stopped existing. Something hot rushed up her body and pooled in her ears. When the heat went away, she started to shake like she was cold.

Slowly, one by one she regained each of her senses. The first to return was sound, but all she could hear was heavy breathing. She couldn’t distinguish which breath belonged to who, but she was able to determine all three of them were contributing.

Soon her sight followed, the room fading into picture, the dark room suddenly feeling so very bright. All she could see was the ceiling—Steve’s lips were no longer on her. That was when the numbness turned to tingling, and the tingling turned to feeling.

The first thing she felt was Steve’s hand still on her chest, with her hand still on top of it, still holding him in place. Quickly she realized that Steve’s hand was the only thing touching her. Steve’s hand was the only thing in direct contact with her aside from the bed underneath her. Still she knew Steve was still there, even though she couldn’t move enough to turn her head to look at him. She knew Billy hadn’t moved either. He wasn’t touching her, but she could feel his warm breath against her right thigh. She pictured him laying there, his energy spent, still just trying to catch his breath right along with the rest of them.

She felt something else on her thigh. Her other thigh. On the outside. A breeze swept through the room, the air hitting that specific spot quite differently from the rest of her body where sweat was cooling all over.

Context clues gave it away. She was sure she wasn’t the only one to finish. Steve’s heavy breathing and attempts at staying outside her view was enough to figure that out.

He was embarrassed, which was exhausting to realize. She figured they’d already jumped over all of the hurdles earlier.

Still, she had sympathy for him, and she knew better not to say anything about it. That part was for them. Just them. It could wait.

Instead, she finally forced her body to find the ability to move, and with that she also regained her ability to speak.

“Come here,” she said, turning her head, no longer allowing Steve to hide. With the hand that still held Steve’s she interlaced their fingers and initiated a tug. “Kiss me.”

Steve was slow, but not hesitant. The kiss was soft, gentle, and mostly cheste save for the slightest bit of tongue sneaking through before he pulled away. It reminded her a lot of his and Billy’s first—well…the first one that she had seen anyway.

Soon following there was a creak in the mattress by her legs. She lifted her head to see Billy standing to his feet.

She hadn’t forgotten he was there. Though, he had been so quiet for a moment there that she could see how someone else might have.

Billy paused, looking down at her and Steve, having naturally fallen into each other, almost entangled. It was like he was waiting for something to happen.

Before Nancy could even begin to try and piece together what could’ve been going through Billy’s head, the pause was over, and what followed was unexpected, but in hindsight really shouldn’t have been.

He started gathering up his clothes from the floor, quickly, like he was in a hurry. He wasn’t looking at them anymore, like they ceased from existence. But Billy’s demeanor—hiding his naked body with each stray article of clothing—said the opposite.

Steve seemed to have been paying just as much attention to Billy as she had, or even more. He sat up almost completely, letting go of Nancy’s hand in the process, leaving her completely untouched this time.

Billy didn’t notice, or at least he didn’t show it. He just kept moving, sliding into his boxers with his back facing them. When he started slipping one leg into his jeans, Steve lurched forward.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, and Nancy could only describe his voice as disappointment.

Billy stopped at that, and chanced a look back at that, turning only his head and keeping his back turned to them. Nancy had finally figured out how to read the unreadable. He was confused, and dare she assume, sad.

“I figured you two would want your privacy,” he said it so bluntly, and that all but confirmed what she was thinking.

What followed was another lull. Nobody could move. Nobody seemed to know what the right move was supposed to be.

Until Billy had decided the right move was to keep getting himself dressed, which she recognized to be the wrong move when Steve lurched forward, grabbing Billy by the wrist and stopping him, right then and there.

She expected Steve to say something, but the room remained silent. Another pause. Another goddamn suffocating pause.

Before she had time to process anything, Steve turned around, not letting up his grip on Billy’s wrist, and looked at her.

He didn’t say it. He couldn’t. She knew what he was asking. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes told her more than enough. She could see the desperation, the longing, the embarrassment, the pleading, the need.

She didn’t have to say it either. She just smiled back at him.

Steve quickly turned back to Billy.

“You don’t have to leave,” Steve said.

Billy attempted to pull away from him, but not hard enough. Nancy knew he could if he wanted to. It didn’t take a genius to tell that Billy was just as strong if not stronger than Steve. He wasn’t putting up much of a fight. Billy wanted to stay. Everyone knew it.

Steve pulled against his wrist, not hard, but quick enough that it caught Billy off guard, enough to cause him to stumble. Enough for him to nearly fall into Steve’s lap.

He didn’t try moving away after that.

Steve cautiously brought his free hand up to Billy’s cheek, gliding the knuckle of his index down to his chin. There was no pulling, Billy just seemed to know to follow the direction of Steve’s finger. Down, closer, closer…

They didn’t kiss, but they were certainly as close as possible to each other as they could have been. It was like they were waiting for gravity to do the rest.

“Stay,” she heard Steve whisper, and it caused a chill to run down her spine, and she wasn’t even the one he was saying it to.

Gravity seemed to finally take over, because next thing she knew Billy was sinking. She decided to look away that time. She decided that this one was allowed to be just for them.

“Stay.” She heard him say it again, and at that she looked back at them.

Billy was looking at her when she did.

He looked at her just like Steve, except unlike Steve, he was scared shitless.

She knew words wouldn’t be enough, and she wasn’t going to kiss him into submission like Steve was able to do. That wouldn’t work.

All she did was move over, closer to the end of her side of the bed, opening up enough space for two more bodies to lay down comfortably. That said all it needed to.

She was right.

Steve crawled back into the bed, settling down right in the middle, and much to everyone’s satisfaction, Billy followed him, kicking his jeans back off on the way down.

It took a minute for them all to get comfortable, each of them maneuvering their way underneath the covers, finding themselves each a position that was the most comfortable.

Nancy had grown cold, the covers only doing so much. She snuggled into Steve for warmth. He was lying on his back, but his head was facing the other way.

He was facing Billy, and she tried her best to be discreet as she peeked her head over Steve to see the two of them. Billy had his head on Steve’s chest, just the way she always did. Steve had his fingers running through Billy’s hair. It was always the other way around. It was always her.

She wasn’t used to that.

But she was starting to learn that she might have to get used to that.

Through all of it, Nancy somehow never once entertained the possibility that Steve’s feelings for Billy—and Billy’s feelings for Steve—went beyond something more than just sexual. It was becoming painstakingly clear that it was much, much more than either of them were letting on.

But, what was even worse was that she just might be okay with that too.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stranger things #steve/billy/nancy #trigonometry #mandi writes tresh #fic #stancy #yes I’m alive #yes the long forever awaited final chapter is here #AND IT IS 19K! #WHAT

[mourntheantagonist]

I always love the “they already go by a nickname so your nickname for them is their full name” trope, and I’m just thinking about how that would work with steve and billy.

I imagine they both have very different relationships with their full first names. I feel like with billy, “william” is associated with a lot of painful memories. I think billy was a name he picked out himself, and it’s a symbol of just that small bit of power he did have in moments when he felt powerless. william was the name that neil picked, but billy was the one he got to choose, and it was the name his mom always called him. so I don’t think billy would like steve calling him that all that much, and would much prefer things like baby, and love, and any other soft terms of endearment.

steve on the other hand. I think steve actually really likes his full name. I imagine he grew up always going by steve. his mom would call him stevie, or stevie-poo, or stevie-kinz or other variations of the kind. the only time it was ever “stephen” (yes, stephen, not steven. fight with the wall) was when it was being said in that typical ‘you’re in big trouble mister’ kind of tone. that was true for everyone except his grandparents. to them it was always stephen. and when they said it, it made him want for everyone to call him that. unfortunately, they both passed when he was still just a kid, and he went for what felt like forever without hearing his name said outside of the aforementioned moments of warning from his parents, and also the standard first day roll calls.

until billy, one day, completely unscripted, calls him stephen. it isn’t said in some condescending or sarcastic tone, but rather, it’s said in a loving, tender, and incredibly soft tone. it’s said just the way his grandparents would say it.

they’re just curled up on the couch watching a movie, steve essentially sitting in billy’s lap while billy runs his fingers through his messy hair. billy, just because, presses a kiss to the top of his head, and says it.

“my perfect stephen.”

steve must have reacted in a certain way that told billy to keep calling him that, because from that point forward he was always stephen to billy. not just alone, but everywhere. even when steve wasn’t around. he once got a call from robin asking if she was supposed to be calling him that now because billy had come into the store only referring to him as such.

steve paused for a second on that phone call, thinking back to those first few months after his grandma passed when he was just desperate to hear the name again, and how he wanted everyone to call him that. he thought back to that time and told her no.

no. he decided.

only billy got to call him that.

#iiiii don’t knoowww what this iiiissss #but here ya go #take it #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #ish

[mourntheantagonist]

Aight you mentioned that Billy likes anal beads and butt plugs but might I raise you something a little better...✨vibrators✨ and imagine it being used in a public setting too. Billy literally had to b e g Steve to use it on him in public and once he does Billy is a total slut for it, and it'll be spontaneous too. Walking around the mall? Vibrator suddenly gets turned on. Just lounging at home? Vibrator suddenly gets turned on. At a movie theatre or drive in? Vibrator suddenly gets turned on. Imagine the possibilities!!😭

~🍒

🍒!!!!! yes!!!

I was actually tempted to add that there but the post was getting so long!!!

billy winds up finding this vibrating prostate massager that is remote operated and can be used at long distance and is immediately like *slaps hand on nearest flat surface* sign me the fuck up!

when he tells steve about it, he gets all excited thinking about using it around the house and stuff but then billy shares the idea of using it while he’s out in public and he’s like, no. horrible terrible awful idea billy no no no.

but billy, he wants it so bad. he begs steve.

he b e g s

but steve doesn’t budge. so billy takes matters into his own hands. tells steve he’s gonna go out for a couple of hours to do some grocery shopping and hit up the auto parts store to fix that clicking noise in the beemer. he emphasizes the point that he’ll be gone for hours, plural, before giving steve a quick kiss on the cheek and heading out.

and not ten minutes after billy has left, steve notices the remote control sitting on the counter, with a little sticky note attached, that reads

don’t disappoint me pretty boy

and it’s just this long hour of the little remote staring steve down like it’s going to explode or something, taunting him by just sitting there in plain view and steve is just tortured with the thought of what it can do, and how easy it would be to just. press the button.

meanwhile, billy is waiting!! he’s taking his sweet little time running his errands and he’s waiting for steve to fucking give in. he can feel the vibrator, just sitting there, teasing him and taunting him and he’s just desperate for it. he’s so close to walking up to a pay phone and begging steve in full view of the public.

and then it’s steve, just sliding the remote back and forth between his hands on the counter, thinking about what billy must be doing, thinking about the fact that he has no idea what billy is doing, and thinking about how the idea of being in control of him like that, thinking about billy having to hide the feeling of steve turning on the vibrator, it’s…enticing. he thinks about billy possibly standing in a check out line, trying to pay for groceries all the while he’s vibrating from the inside out. and steve just. he.

he presses the button.

and billy is grabbing a box of cereal when it happens. suddenly, the very still box of cornflakes is vibrating in his hand, and he has to use his other hand to brace himself against the shelf because the pleasure is unimaginable. and there are other people in the aisle. he can’t. let them know. what is happening to him. and he’s both begging for it to stop, and begging for it to never stop because it feels so good, but it feels too good at the same time. and he has every intention on making it home before spilling his load.

steve only uses it a few more times while billy is out, and billy is obsessed with the fact that he never knows when it’s coming. he waits around on edge the whole time, and is still surprised when he feels it turn on. and he just. loves. how he feels so close to steve, even so far away. it feels a little bit like steve is there in a way. and it’s dirty. and he absolutely loves it.

when billy gets home. he’s standing in the door, hard and out of breath, calling steve’s name before even shutting the door behind him.

steve walks over and sees him, sweating and clearly desperate.

“bedroom. now.” billy says.

and steve doesn’t have to be asked twice. not to go to the bedroom. and not to use the remote again. and again. and again.

#I love you for this #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #lemons #spicy

[mourntheantagonist]

AO3 First Lines

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3 (Sort by date posted). If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have!

Tagged by @every-dayiwakeup 😘🦶

1. Trigonometry (5/6) — 11.6k

Catching his breath felt like chasing a runaway train—impossible, at least on his own two feet. Fortunately for Steve, he was on his back in a soft warm bed, where if he passed out from a lack of oxygen, at least he wouldn’t hit his head on the way down.

He could feel his heart pounding, hell, he could hear it. It was so loud, so strong, beating through his chest like a parasite trying to escape through his rib cage. His chest heaved, rising and falling without a discernible tempo, chaotic, heavy, labored.

2. Sober Thoughts (1/1) — 3.6k

A silhouette loomed over the area of the quarry. Two, actually. A pair of bodies, similar in size, heads meeting at equal height, tilted down slightly, looking out at the cold mysterious water that rippled beneath them.

Billy sat with his back to the camaro, his blue jeans had grown dusty from old gravel turned to sand. Steve sat to his left in the same position with his back to the beemer. They appeared like figurines on display—unmoving with uncomfortable posture.

3. Cheap Beer, Sticky Floors, and Greek Letters (1/1) — 6.0k

“Could you repeat that for me?” Steve asked in a voice that could only be described as confused, “I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

He was being sarcastic of course. He heard the trio of brats sitting in the backseat of his car loud and clear. He just wanted to give them a second chance to rethink what they just said.

“We’re going to Theta Chi tonight.” Max said, long spaces in between each word all loud and proud with that smug little grin on her face, visible in Steve’s rear view mirror. Steve had half of a mind to stop the car and tell her to walk the rest of the way to her dorm.

4. Too Much (1/1) — 3.0k

“Sometimes…it’s just too much.”

They were laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and Billy could just feel the disappointment wafting off of Steve. It had been the second time just that week. They’d be fucking, having a grand old time, and then all of a sudden the bed springs would creak wrong and suddenly Billy was pushing Steve off of him, rolling over, and hiding underneath the covers.

5. Blood Sugar (1/1) — 2.3k

He’d been seeking him out, he could tell.

Steve was very aware of the rustles of the trees outside his house at night. Many times watching the night transition to morning in the quiet calmness on the edge of the woods allowed him plenty of experience with the noises of the dark. He could, with alarming accuracy, identify an animal just by the sounds of their footsteps.

And the footsteps breaking branches in the dirt outside his house at two in the morning…those were distinctly human.

6. Hands Off the Merchandise (1/1) — 3.5k

He found himself always circling back to the little club on fourth avenue every Friday night without fail. It wasn’t even on his route home, but Steve would call it a scenic detour, because in all essence, it was. He’d tell himself, as he put on his signal to move into the turn lane he didn’t belong in, that he just wanted to look through the windows just for a second. Just a peek. Just a glance. He’d lie to himself and say he admired the lights on the sign out front—he didn’t give two shits about the sign out front.

7. I’ll See You Tomorrow Morning (1/1) — 1.8k

It was a day that was many weeks in the making.

As much as they loved their lives—having kids and jobs that they loved—they would be lying if there weren’t some downsides.

One of the biggest downsides; their every conflicting work schedules.

8. Age/Sex/Location (1/1) — 9.1k

Billy had a pretty strict morning schedule. He woke up at the exact same time every day, shooting up out of his bed directly upon the sound of his alarm, scrambling to his feet to begin getting ready for another day at the office. It was his every day, aside from his Sundays off which he usually spent doing all the household chores he hadn’t had time to do over the week. Still, despite days off, his morning routine never changed. Same wake up time, never allowing himself to sleep in, hauling his half-asleep body directly into a cold shower to quickly wake up the other half of him.

9. This Is How I Disappear (1/1) — 2.4k

She didn’t remember the pain, not much of it anyway. She only remembered the fear, the sadness, the gut wrenching feeling as she felt the life slowly get sucked out of her and hearing Lucas’s desperate pleas. She just wanted to reach out and hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. In reality, she didn’t know if that was true or not, and she didn’t care. She just wanted him to have those short few seconds of comfort, whatever she could offer, for whatever it was worth.

10. Eighteen and Life (1/1) — 4.9k

If he thought about it long enough—something he tried not to do—he knew, at the end of the day, the only person he had to blame was himself. He’d say it to himself, staring up at the bright ceiling of a hospital, that if only he’d known that the horrors of the quaint little town were far worse than its lack of a beach and excessive rain, that he wouldn’t have taken that summer job at the community pool. He would have taken the two grand he had stashed underneath the passenger seat of his car and hightailed it out of Hawkins the very second he turned eighteen. He would have set sail for California, and never looked back.

But that wasn’t what happened.

tagging!! @ihni @magniloquent-raven @platypanthewriter (if you wanna!!) ❤️

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #fics #read my fics #talk to me about my fics #do it #lol #or don’t

[mourntheantagonist]

day one: lingerie

requested by you

read on ao3

He found himself always circling back to the little club on fourth avenue every Friday night without fail. It wasn’t even on his route home, but Steve would call it a scenic detour, because in all essence, it was. He’d tell himself, as he put on his signal to move into the turn lane he didn’t belong in, that he just wanted to look through the windows just for a second. Just a peek. Just a glance. He’d lie to himself and say he admired the lights on the sign out front—he didn’t give two shits about the sign out front.

He’d drive past, and some days he would keep driving straight until he finally pulled into the parking garage under his building. Those days he’d sit alone in his empty apartment, watching whatever was currently on television and stuffing himself with microwaveable popcorn and drowning himself in beer, trying to forget about the little glimpses of red lace and golden skin he’d caught in the corner of one of those windows.

Other days—the weak ones—he’d stop, or turn around at the light just twenty feet down the road, and pull into one of the parking spaces out front. He’d try to see whatever he could through the highly tinted windows, and that cash in his wallet would scream at him to man up and walk inside. He wouldn’t. He’d just sit there smoking a cigarette letting his heart beat out of his chest at just the thought of walking through those doors, and drive home when the night took over.

It wasn’t like he’d never been to a strip club before. Hell, his buddies at the office liked to host their monthly meetings at one of the sleaziest strip clubs in town where they drank whisky on the rocks and stuffed singles in whatever article of clothing the girls had left on. The difference was, Steve had never been to a strip club like this, and he sure as hell had never wanted to go to one so bad either. It was the combination of uncertainty and desperation that kept him glued to his driver’s seat, and his wallet full of cash.

Until the day he actually grew a pair and walked through the front doors. It was after a particularly frustrating night at the office. Everything seemed to be going to shit with his accounts and to top it all off, it was time for the monthly “office meeting” and Steve, well, if he was going to any “office meeting” he’d have to choose a different venue.

So, he feigned illness and drove directly to the club on fourth—for once it was a destination and not a detour. It took him a moment of sitting there, and smoking through the rest of his pack to finally get the courage to walk inside, but what made this time different from all the other times before was the fact that he actually walked inside. No more living inside the fantasyland of his own head.

He walked in and was instantly blinded by the bright blue stage lights. He made a move to walk forward, shielding his eyes as he did when he bumped into something large.

“Sorry.” Steve muttered upon the realization that something large was actually a human being.

“Can I see some ID?” Oh fuck it was the bouncer.

Steve felt so out of his element, shaking as he reached into his pocket for his wallet and slipping out his ID, not paying one single look to the bouncer, but rather trying to see past the blinding lights to remind himself of why he walked into the club in the first place.

The bouncer’s laugh pulled him out from his trance. “First time, kid?” he asked, and Steve didn’t answer, he might’ve rolled his eyes at being called a kid considering he was encroaching on thirty, but mostly he just stood there. The bouncer handed his ID back to him and ushered him off with no more than a “Don’t touch my dancers!” as a farewell.

Steve had been hoping it would become less nerve wracking the further he walked into the club, but when he finally could see past the lights enough to see the dancers on the stage, the first things he laid his eyes on was a man on a platform wearing nothing but a speedo that was two sizes too small. If that wasn’t overwhelming, the sheer amount of people inside and all the noise was. It was nothing like the ones he had been to before—the mostly empty bars filled with sleazy old men who were drunk off their asses. The inside of this club was clean, and the crowd of people was largely young, and it was all so different from what he was used to.

There were also the dicks. Those were also very different from what he was used to when it came to strip clubs.

Steve maneuvered around the club until he found himself a stool up by the bar where there were even more scantily clad male dancers, some dancing, some laying flat on their backs and letting people pay to take body shots off of them.

All Steve learned from watching that scene was that the no touching rule could be forgotten for the right price.

He was still beyond on edge, so used to quiet and quaint, so used to Friday nights spent on his couch alone. He raised his hand and called the bartender over, excited to order himself a gin and tonic rather than the whisky on the rocks that was always forced into his hands. Steve glanced around the room as the bartender started pouring his drink, and he caught a glimpse of one of the strippers giving a lap dance in the corner.

The way Steve’s stomach dropped could only be attributed to one thing and one thing only, and that was how badly he wanted one for himself.

“Make that two.” Steve said to the bartender, who just gave him a knowing look as he pulled out a second glass.

Steve basically chugged the first glass, and sipped the second. He was trying to get himself as drunk as possible as quickly as possible because fuck, there was shit he wanted but damn if he had the courage to ask for it.

So Steve sat there. He drank, he looked around, and he drank some more, and even more. Time passed and Steve kept looking—kept trying to find a speedo-wearing man he was willing to empty his wallet for—but he kept coming up empty handed, and wallet full.

None of the guys seemed to be his type, which was odd considering no two looked even remotely the same—the only commonality being the metallic blue speedo’s that they all wore like a uniform. Steve was beginning to wonder if that was just it, what they were wearing. Steve wasn’t passing by the club every day after work because he was hoping to see some guys dancing around with their junk one tug away from hanging out. If he wanted that, he’d go to the beach.

What Steve wanted was what he saw hanging out outside of the club that one late night, cigarette in between lips painted red with a lace getup to match, legs bare in the cold night air, huddling for warmth inside an oversized denim jacket. He wanted the blonde curly hair and the mean look and the soft edges of floral lingerie he knew he’d seen in the corner of the window where the tint had peeled off.

Delicate. Soft. Gorgeous.

Where was that?

Steve waited, and waited for the speedos to disappear. He looked, and looked for the pretty little thing he just knew he could feel the presence of. Steve had nearly a grand’s worth of cash in his wallet, and he knew exactly where he wanted to put it.

It was getting late, and he was beginning to think he was going to end up dropping more on the alcohol than on the dancers. He slipped a few twenties to a couple of the guys who walked across the bar in front of him, but only as a way to keep him from getting kicked out for attempting to catch himself cheap glances, of which Steve wasn’t even the least bit interested.

It was getting late and he was starting to wonder if he should have just stayed in his car. Hell. He should’ve just gone to the “office meeting” because at least there he wouldn’t look like a loser sitting by himself surrounded by five empty glasses and having the poor bartender pour him a sixth.

Hey, at least Steve was a good tipper.

It was getting late and Steve was about ready to throw on his jacket and walk out when suddenly, the lights dimmed and the blue hue of the club had gone pink. In his slightly drunken stupor, his hearing was muffled and he couldn’t quite make out what the DJ was saying over the loudspeaker. But, fortunately for Steve, his eyes still worked and that’s all he needed to enjoy his night.

His eyes followed the spotlight to the stage behind the bar that for the majority of the night housed not a single dancer. There were poles that were going completely unused and that was the glimmer of hope that had kept Steve in his seat all night. Surely someone was going to use them, and Steve would be damned if he wasn’t going to see it.

Behind the curtain, in between the gaps where it didn’t quite reach the floor, Steve saw a pair of wildly shimmery heels.

He recognized those heels.

They were the same pair of pleasers he’d seen that curly blonde bombshell wearing the night before.

Steve was practically holding his breath waiting for the curtain to finally open. Eyes locked on those silver heels ready to blind him like the stage light had when he first walked in…except, he’d happily be blinded by something that gorgeous. He could honestly say if it was the last sight he were to ever see, he would be grateful.

Steve was literally on the edge of his stool. He was more so leaning than he was sitting with his feet on the floor doing most of the work to hold him upright. He stared and he stared until the music finally started to blast through the speakers and the spotlight not longer shone on a blank curtain, and rather the gorgeous lace-clad body that had been haunting Steve’s dreams every night since the moment Steve first saw him.

Him. Steve would only manage to make that distinction when the man in question had bypassed the curtain in his eight inch pleasers and red lacy lingerie. The bulge in his little panties became a much more pleasant sight than all the dicks he’d been looking at earlier wrapped in too-tight swimwear.

And by god, Steve was right, he really was gorgeous.

He had cherry red lips to perfectly match the lace, long and dark eyelashes that made his eyes look so big Steve could see the blue so clearly even from the unfortunate distance they had between them.

The man took the stage and walked over to one of the poles. There were other dancers on the stage, but Steve was too focused on just one of them to notice anything more than that there were other bodies there. Steve let his eyes trail down the man’s chest, seeing a gold necklace dangling from his neck that read ‘Honey’ and that was when Steve’s ears finally began to work and he could start hearing the other patrons in the club saying the word.

“Hey Honey!” one of the men at the bar with him called out. Steve turned his attention over there for just a second to see the man waving a single around in the air.

Steve rolled his eyes, and it appeared the man on stage did also, taking his leg around the pole and looking anywhere other than in the direction of the cheapskate.

The gorgeous man was suddenly looking at him. Steve felt all the blood rush to his cheeks as the man—Honey—began spinning around the pole, never taking his eyes off of Steve for longer than a second of time. Steve was hardly the gentleman in any of it because while Honey was giving him intense eye contact, Steve’s eyes were trailing everywhere else. Trailing down to his legs that adorned sheer black stockings held up by the straps of his garter belt. Back up to his chest, the bralette top covering what needn’t be covered, and Steve could only be thankful. Somehow the lace coverage felt far more erotic than all the practically naked men that had been surrounding him all night long.

Steve remembered the money in his wallet, and remembered the guy who got shot down for taking out a one dollar bill, so of course, Steve knew what he had to do.

He quickly pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill, holding it in between two fingers and finally making eye contact with Honey.

Honey looks back, noticing the hundred in his hands and Steve doesn’t fail to notice the way the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly. Honey does a few more moves on the pole before climbing off the Stage and walking across the bar over to where Steve is sitting. Suddenly, Steve’s got an up close and personal view of those pleasers, and he can see every single little detail in the lace that’s just a foot from his eyes.

Honey squats down to get closer to Steve’s eye level, and he’s honestly impressed by just the balance alone. Honey plucks the bill from Steve’s fingers and tucks it into his bra, not letting his gaze leave Steve’s for even one second.

Honey then took a thumb and a decorated finger and pinched Steve’s ear lobe, tugging gently, and leaning down even more until his mouth was almost pressed up against his ear.

“If you’ve got any more of that in your pocket, wait for me in the back over there.”

Steve shuddered, and he wasn’t totally sure if it was from the heat against his skin or the suggestions Honey was making, but Steve just nodded, smiled, and left Honey to continue working that pole.

A half of an hour went by and Honey and the other dancers left the stage. Steve had tried not to be jealous whenever another person gave Honey a tip, but it was helped by the fact that Honey was constantly looking over at him, not for even a second of the routine forgetting he was there.

Steve felt a wave of…something…come over him when Honey was finally out of the room. It was like the high of everything had suddenly disappeared, and he was left with his own thoughts rattling around inside of his head. He needed another drink.

He ordered another gin and tonic and then walked himself over to one of the tables near the back of the club, right over where he’d seen that guy getting a lap dance earlier.

Steve sat there and counted the bills in his wallet, he had six hundreds and a couple of twenties left, and he was hoping that he’d end the night with an empty wallet, and when Honey had whispered in his ear, that reality seemed promising.

It took roughly another fifteen minutes before Honey finally emerged through the same door that all the other dancers had been walking in and out of—the door Steve had his eyes glued on since he’d sat down and started waiting.

Honey was still wearing the exact same getup, heels and all, the only difference was that his bra was no longer drowning in filthy cash. Honey found Steve quickly, and Steve couldn’t be so sure if it was because Honey had just remembered that face of his so well, or if he could just smell the scent of a hundred dollar bill from a mile away, and could see Steve waving it around like a treat.

Honey came over to him and took the hundred and stuffed it into the waistband of his panties. “You lookin’ for a lap dance pretty boy?”

Steve felt like he was a kid again, so shy he could barely speak, caught in the bright light of this man’s beauty. He just nodded his head.

“Imma need you to say it out loud baby.” he said, and god, his voice was like music.

“Yes.” Steve choked out, nodding his head even harder. “Please.”

Honey smiled down at him and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders, walking forward with a leg on either side of Steve’s chair until Steve’s had a face full of Honey’s torso.

God, he was really a dancer. Steve found himself gripping the underside of his chair the whole time, the friction of his ass rubbing against the front of Steve’s slacks was making it hard to breathe and Steve knew he needed to touch something—himself, Honey, he just needed to grab hold of something.

So he grabbed his wallet and handed Honey another hundred. Steve didn’t say out loud what he was asking for, but that didn’t matter because apparently Honey could read minds.

Honey took the bill from Steve and responded by pulling Steve’s hands up and bringing them to rest on his hips. “What’s your name, pretty boy?”

“Steve,” he said, “um, what’s yours?”

Honey smiled at him and took a seat in his lap, no longer moving around, just looking at him.

“Around here they call me Honey,” he said, “but you can call me Billy.”

Billy. Steve smiled, mouthing the name to himself, feeling so nice on his tongue. “I like that name.”

“I like yours too,” Billy said. Billy said. “very moanable.”

Steve felt his cheeks go pink, and his heartbeat skyrocketed and he was so sure that Billy could feel it with how hard it was pounding.

Steve traced his hands up and down Billy’s back, loving the way the lace felt against his finger tips. The texture almost had a calming effect to it. Which he needed, because he was back to staring into Billy’s eyes, deep blue, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander away, down, down to those bright red Cherry lips that looked like candy…

“How much for you to let me kiss you?” Steve asked, the first bold thing he had done all night since walking into the place. Steve was pulling out his wallet, ready to count out the cash when Billy placed a hand on his, pushing it away, and Steve felt so stupid…Billy was a stripper…he wouldn’t kiss him for a lousy hundred dollar bill…what was he thinking—

Steve’s little self deprecating train of thought was rail roasted by the feeling of lips suddenly being pressed to his, and Steve felt his breathing stop completely as he sunk into the softness and relished in the sweet taste of whatever Billy had painted his lips with.

Steve felt like he was living for the first time in a very long time. Kissing Billy made the world finally make sense, which was ridiculous, because Steve never pictured himself falling for a pretty male stripper, especially so fast. But there he was, falling hard, and Billy was so pretty that he couldn’t exactly be all that bothered by it. He’d let the illusion play out for as long as fate would allow him.

The taste of Billy’s tongue was like a drug, and something about it gave him a newfound sense of confidence that he never once thought he could possess. Steve pulled back, and traced a finger through that gorgeous mane of blonde curls, looking deeply into those ocean eyes.

“Think there’s a chance we could take this somewhere more private?” Steve asked, pointing his eyes back to the wallet on the table.

Billy smiled and laughed. “You know I’m not a hooker, right?”

Well, that drained every bit of confidence Steve had sequestered from the kiss. There he was, red faced, blushing like a tomato, heart beating out of his chest, sort of wanting to die.

“Shit, sorry, I just—” Steve’s rambling was cut off, just like his thoughts before, by another kiss. Steve was weak, so he sunk into it, seeking comfort in the softness of his lips.

Billy pulled back too soon, which left Steve leaning forward, chasing more of Billy’s kisses. Steve opened his mouth to speak again, but Billy placed a finger to his lips.

“I’m not a hooker Steve,” he said, and once again, Steve wanted to die. But then Billy smiled something devious. “So that just means this is something I gotta do for free.”

Steve’s heart was no longer racing. No. It had fucking stopped.

“Yeah?” he asked, and he felt like a little kid asking it.

Billy stood up and held out his hand to Steve. “Think that thick wallet of yours can buy us a fancy hotel room?”

Steve just nodded his head aggressively and let Billy pull him to his feet.

“Good, cause I got some other outfits I’d like to show you.”

God. Fuck.

Yeah, Steve was glad he skipped out on the “office meeting.”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh

[mourntheantagonist]

Age, Sex, Location

cw: piss — omorashi, desperation play, bladder torture, humiliation, wetting

read on ao3

Billy had a pretty strict morning schedule. He woke up at the exact same time every day, shooting up out of his bed directly upon the sound of his alarm, scrambling to his feet to begin getting ready for another day at the office. It was his every day, aside from his Sundays off which he usually spent doing all the household chores he hadn’t had time to do over the week. Still, despite days off, his morning routine never changed. Same wake up time, never allowing himself to sleep in, hauling his half-asleep body directly into a cold shower to quickly wake up the other half of him.

He’d brush his teeth, fix his hair, spritz some cologne on himself—even on days when he wasn’t seeing anyone else—get dressed, make his bed, feed the dogs, and finally brew himself a nice cup of coffee to drink while he spent the rest of his morning at home sitting in front of his computer screen.

It was like any ordinary Sunday. He got up, did his morning routine, and found himself sitting at his desk in front of his computer. The only difference about this Sunday in particular was that Billy had done all his chores the night before. That, and the fact that he purposely skipped one step in his morning routine—one that he was already beginning to feel the effects of as he listened to the dial up sounds pair with his loudly brewing coffee, slowly dripping into the pot.

The morning felt different. Some of it for obvious reasons, some of it for reasons that didn’t make sense. As he walked back into the kitchen to pour himself that cup of fresh coffee, he felt lighter. Walking felt easier. He smiled as he pet his dog Sasha, his golden retriever pup that brushed against the side of his leg as she made a B-line for her bowl full of kibble.

He pulled a mug from the cabinet, landing on the ‘Okayest Brother’ mug that Max had got for him a couple Christmases ago. He hummed to himself as he poured the coffee, the rich smell just adding to the light feeling he felt. He took a moment, turning around and leaning his weight against the kitchen counter behind him, staring out the windows of his LA high rise apartment as the sun poured in through his less-than-opaque curtains.

He took a long sip of his coffee, completely black, just the way he liked it. It was hot enough to burn off his taste buds if he hadn’t been cautious of it, blowing on it before each sip, drinking it slowly, letting it cool down in his mouth to something further from scorching and closer to warm before swallowing.

It was days like today that he was very much aware of every drop of liquid that rolled down his throat.

He stood there and took in the light, letting the sun's rays hit him, warming him up right alongside his hot coffee which he was drinking much quicker than usual. He planned to give himself a second pour before heading back into his office.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been planning this for weeks. Sunday’s were his one day of freedom, and last Sunday he had dinner with Max and Lucas, and the Sunday before that he had a dentist’s appointment, and the Sunday before that he was also busy, and he just…he needed the damn coffee to cool down to a temperature that was chugable so he could go sit in front of his computer screen.

He was just about finished with his first cup when Minnie, his eleven year old pitbull finally sprang to life to join her sister for breakfast.

He refilled his mug, the second cup still failing to empty the pot, and walked himself back to his office.

He sat down at his desk, placing the full mug on the coaster next to his computer mouse, and he got comfortable. The door was shut. The dogs were happily chomping away at their breakfast. It was Sunday. He was alone.

Billy began clicking and typing away, logging into his AOL account and opening AIM, feeling his belly flutter in excitement as the pop-ups started to litter his screen. He clicked around until he found himself staring at a list of chat rooms, scrolling and searching for that one room he stumbled upon that a part of him wished he’d never actually found. Because ever since that night, he’d become obsessed. He’d learned things about himself that he could have gone the rest of his life never knowing, and yet, he made no effort to walk away.

What they say about the internet may have some truth to it. It rots your brain.

[chevycamaro79 has entered the room]

chevycamaro79: day off. any1 want 2 control me?

DaddysPrincess1110: on the lord's day?? ;)

jess_012: chevy what’s your ASL?

chevycamaro79: 31 male California

jess_012: preference?

chevycamaro79: male

jess_012: damn

Billy slumped back in his chair watching the screen from afar, seeing as the chat moved away from the topic of him and his message got lost in the flow of conversation. He felt slightly defeated. He felt a little bit like canceling his plans and going shopping, or something. Anything else outside of his apartment that would distract him and keep him from the temptation to indulge.

A waste of a full pot of coffee.

He was about ready to shut off his computer and walk out of his office when a familiar little chime came over his speakers and a new instant message window popped up on his screen.

K1ngSteve8566: saw ur message in the chat room. I'm free.

Billy felt a little flutter in his chest at the message, quickly rolling his chair forward until his stomach was pressed up against the desk, his face within inches of the monitor. His hands were shaking as they made contact with his keyboard. He was way more excited than he should have been. He felt like he was back in high school. Back to those times when he’d spot a cute boy passing him in the hall and having to put all of his energy into playing it cool.

chevycamaro79: hey

K1ngSteve8566: hi there

chevycamaro79: A/S/L?

K1ngSteve8566: 32, M, CA

Billy grinned at his computer screen. Sure, he knew people lied about that shit constantly, but he had a weird hunch that this K1ngSteve8566 was telling him the truth. Sure, California was a big ass state, but something about knowing they were in somewhat close proximity made him feel fuzzy.

Well. He felt a little fuzzy for other reasons too.

K1ngSteve8566: Have u pissed yet today?

Yeah. That.

chevycamaro79: No

chevycamaro79: haven’t since 9 last nite

It had been twelve hours, which had led him to where he was then, sitting in that office chair in front of a computer screen displaying AOL Instant Messenger, talking to the supposed 32 year old male from California that went by the screen name K1ngSteve8566, to whom Billy was planning on handing over complete control.

K1ngSteve8566: how r u feeling? scale?

There was a little bit of pressure there. Nothing too much for him to handle. It felt more like an ache or a cramp, and he was a bit bloated and it made his jeans feel a little bit tighter than what he was used to.

chevycamaro79: 4/10 I can feel it but nothing urgent

K1ngSteve8566: u drinking anything?

chevycamaro79: just brewed a pot of coffee

By instinct Billy took another sip, finally cooled down enough to feel comfortable on his tongue.

K1ngSteve8566: hope u didn’t make 2 much.

K1ngSteve8566: I want it all drank by 10

K1ngSteve8566: don’t want anything going 2 waste

He felt his breath hitch as he read it. Smiling to himself, getting excited. He had been planning on doing it anyway, but the idea of being told to do it, being given a time frame, feeling that little bit of his own control over the situation slip away was nothing short of exhilarating.

chevycamaro79: yes sir

K1ngSteve8566: call me steve

Steve. He figured as much, given the screen name, but there was just something about it. Maybe it was that extra bit of proximity that he felt. He had no real way of knowing if this guy’s real name was actually Steve, but that didn’t matter to Billy. That was the beauty of cybersex after all. Being anonymous—getting to experience the things one would otherwise never allow themselves to experience out of fear of ridicule and shame.

True identity aside, in the digital space of AIM, Steve was Steve, he was 32 years old, and he was from California, just like Billy. The truth didn’t matter, just that Steve had told him to call him Steve. Steve had told him what to do. That was what it was all about. Billy being told what to do, and Billy doing as he was told.

chevycamaro79: yes steve

K1ngSteve8566: check back in @ 10. don’t b late.

Billy dramatically let his chair roll back away from the desk, and he just stared at the screen from afar like a schoolgirl getting a message from her crush. The blush he felt creeping up his cheeks was pathetic, and he could only be grateful for the fact that the only souls present to witness it were his two dogs—who were still happily chowing down and paying Billy absolutely no attention whatsoever.

He had his mug held close to his chest, the hot ceramic warming his skin through his shirt. The coffee smell was pungent, and it quickly reminded him of just how much coffee he brewed, and just how little time he had to drink it all down. He brought the mug to his lips, and took in a long breath through his nose before pouring the contents down his throat—as much as he could swallow before he needed to take another breath, or the heat became too much for the flesh of his throat. He managed to reduce the amount by half, taking a cooling breath before bringing the rim back up to his lips and taking another large gulp. He was eyeing the clock on the wall. It was already a quarter past nine. He didn’t exactly have the time to savor the taste.

Not with Steve’s orders hanging over his head.

He could feel what the liquid was doing to him already. Coffee seemed to always just flow right through him. Down his throat, down his esophagus, not taking even a moment to rest before settling right in his bladder. He had already felt full before, but each additional drop of liquid was definitely felt, and he was definitely starting to dread brewing so much coffee.

He finished off his mug and made his way back to the kitchen to pour himself another cup. There was a feeling of relief as he stood up, his bladder no longer being compressed by sitting down. However, the relief was momentary. Any forgotten urge or feeling was quickly making itself known the second he began pouring, and he heard the sounds of the liquid sloshing around in the cup.

Fortunately, at the very least, there seemed to be only one cup left in the pot.

Billy decided he’d move the party into the living room as he waited for ten o’clock to swing around. He took a seat on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table, and fished the remote out from in between the cushions so he could turn on the morning news.

There wasn’t really anything of substance. They just rambled on about the Lakers game from the previous night, and then moved on to some puff piece about a “local hero” who’s heroic act deemed newsworthy was calling the police to report his neighbors home on fire. Billy felt himself rolling his eyes as the anchor seemed to just fawn over the guy.

As irritating as the news was—praising people for doing the bare minimum and rubbing the Lakers loss to the Warriors in his face—it made the time slip by rather quickly. The time had drifted to less than a quarter til and Billy had only just finished the cup in his hands.

Billy quickly peeled himself up off the couch and wandered back into the kitchen to pour himself his final cup, making a thing out of shaking the pot to her out every last drop of the liquid. He quickly began drinking it. The coffee had cooled down enough that he was able to take it down his throat with no burn at all, and he was grateful for that part being easy, as the fullness in his abdomen had started to make itself much more noticeable than it had been before.

He still didn’t really feel like he had to go—not urgently at least—but he was getting the telltale signs from the cramping and the tightness of his waistband that the feeling wouldn’t last very long.

As Billy swallowed the last few drops, he put the mug and the pot into the sink, turning on the tap to rinse them. Honestly, he was only trying to take advantage of the few minutes he had left before his check in with Steve so that he didn’t have to worry about dishes on Monday.

But the sound of the batter hitting the basin did something to him.

Suddenly his totally-fine and not-desperate-at-all attitude got a punch to the face because it was as if the water from the tap was going right into him, and maybe it didn’t do all that much, but his leg was certainly shaking because of it.

He had to take a deep breath and shut the water off, bracing himself on the kitchen counter as he tried to regain control of himself. He felt it somewhere in his chest, less of a tightness and more of a burning feeling, similar to that of anxiety, but more likely to do with excitement.

It was going to be a fun day.

When Billy finally felt that he was in the clear, he walked his way back into his office, carefully and slowly taking a seat in his chair, and opening the chat window back up. Billy was lucky—taking a quick glance at the bottom right corner of the screen—it was only 9:59.

chevycamaro79: checking back in

K1ngSteve8566: how does it feel?

Billy brought a light hand to his lower abdomen, careful not to press too hard down on the area. It was tender, and even the slightest bit of pressure sent shockwaves through his entire body. Still, he wasn’t really squirming, and while it was a more intense sensation than before the full pot of coffee entered his system, it was still mild in the grand scheme of things. He was nowhere near where he wanted to be.

chevycamaro79: uncomfortable

chevycamaro79: I’m at like a 5 but close to being at a 6

Billy smiled at the screen as he typed it out. Just talking about how he felt made the feeling just the more present. He liked the feeling. He wanted more of that feeling. A more intense feeling.

He was hoping Steve had some plans up his sleeve.

K1ngSteve8566: u finish all the coffee?

chevycamaro79: yep

K1ngSteve8566: good

K1ngSteve8566: go pour urself a glass of water.

Billy felt his stomach lurch as the message popped up on the screen. He couldn’t really tell if it was the fact that he was being asked to put even more liquid into his body, or if simply Steve telling him what to do was making him react that way.

Ten years ago, Billy never would have taken orders from anyone. He loved to rebel. But somewhere down the line, after numerous experiences and experiments with older, stronger, larger men telling him what to do and not taking no for an answer…well, he changed.

He liked being controlled. He liked being told what to do. He liked feeling small and inferior. He liked pushing back and being punished for it.

He craved it.

He was desperate for it.

And that was the other thing Billy learned, thanks to the unfiltered universe of the world wide web.

He loved feeling desperate.

chevycamaro79: ok brb

He swiftly made his way back into the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cupboard and turning on the sink to fill it—he made sure to grab the biggest one he had, even though Steve hadn’t specified.

The sound of the water didn’t seem to affect him nearly as much as it had before, but maybe that was just because the excitement of everything had put a kick in his step, and distracted him enough from his urges long enough to fill the glass.

He was sort of operating on autopilot, taking Steve’s orders and running with them, not really thinking—not really allowing himself to think. He didn’t really want to think. He liked it better when his mind would wander and he’d lose awareness. It was easier to give up control that way.

He’d prefer it if he had someone actually there with him. The thought of a guy pouring the water for him, bringing the rim to his lips and telling him to drink made him feel warm and fuzzy and…other things.

The thought of someone watching him squirm…the thought of someone making him beg…the thought of someone watching him lose control…like, completely lose control.

But that wasn’t possible. No. He already had a hard enough time accepting the reality that it was something he enjoyed, and he was not about to let anyone else find out about it.

Well…other than K1ngSteve8566.

Cybering was enough. It had to be. Billy wasn’t anything if not good at playing pretend anyway.

His mind was certainly wandering, because Billy had no idea how exactly he made it from the kitchen back to his office, but he did. The glass of water was sitting on a coaster next to his mouse, filled nearly to the brim, and Steve was waiting for him.

chevycamaro79: ok got it

He was surprised to see how quickly Steve responded. Usually the guys he did this with liked making him wait and suffer alone.

Sometimes he liked that—being forced to wait, left to sit and wonder if he’d just been totally abandoned or not, left without anyone to beg to for relief—but sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that the person on the other side of the computer screen just wasn’t all that into it. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he just wasn’t quick enough for them. Sometimes the guys would just give him permission to go too early, like they were tired of waiting for him to get truly desperate, and the result was always a release that wasn’t all that satisfying.

But Steve seemed excited. Billy could only hope that he was getting just as much out of the whole thing as he was.

K1ngSteve8566: take ur time drinking that

K1ngSteve8566: don’t want u 2 get full 2 fast.

K1ngSteve8566: I have plans 4 u

He felt his breath get caught in his throat, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. He was hot. And goddamnit his leg was bouncing.

The level six on the scale was really fast approaching, and he hadn’t even taken a sip of that full glass of water staring him in the eye.

chevycamaro79: looking forward 2 them

There was a momentary pause before Steve responded, not long in reality, but to Billy, as the desperation slowly creeped up on him, it felt like an absolute eternity.

K1ngSteve8566: what r u wearing?

Billy couldn’t help but laugh a little at the message. It was such a cliche. He’d seen that message cross his screen so many times he’d lost count. Hell, even he’d used that line once or twice. It brought him back to his teenage years, on the phone late at night when everyone was asleep, quietly dialing up the high school girl of the week and whispering that as his go to phrase because what else was he supposed to say?

Though, despite the motives being similar, they were definitely not the same.

chevycamaro79: denim jeans and a black tshirt

K1ngSteve8566: r u wearing a belt?

Billy raised his eyebrows, curious.

chevycamaro79: no

K1ngSteve8566: go put 1 on

K1ngSteve8566: make it as tight as possible

Oh. Well, Billy could certainly do that.

He typed out a quick reply to Steve, telling him once again that he would be right back, and he got up from his desk chair. He decided to take a short sip of his water before he left to his room to dig for the smallest belt he owned, tucked away in his drawer of matchless socks.

It was easier to find than he thought it would be. It was his belt from highschool, back when his waistband was two inches shorter. But hey, Steve said to make it as tight as possible.

Billy fumbled around with the black piece of leather as he tried to feed it through the loops in his jeans. He couldn’t say exactly why he was so shaky, but he had a few pretty obvious ideas in mind.

When he finally got the belt through all the loops, he paused, making sure he was focused while he did the next part to save himself from any premature accidents that could easily be caused by the pressure he was about to induce.

He pulled the end of the belt until it felt snug, reaching the 3rd notch, but he knew when Steve said tight, he was thinking tighter than that. Slowly, Billy tugged harder on the belt, reaching for that fourth notch, all the while heavily breathing and squeezing his legs together as the intense pressure became overwhelming.

But it was exactly the kind of rush he was hoping for. The way his legs had slammed shut completely against his will, and the way his bladder twinged with each aching millimeter of decreased circumference made his chest heat up, like there was a fire burning in his lungs. It was making him hot, and he was struggling to breathe, and he was so ready for more. He knew, right as he first pulled the belt tight, that Steve was going to make the day worth his while.

It was for that reason that as soon as Billy managed to get the belt fastened around his waist and get himself back down to a maintainable level on the scale, he grabbed himself a towel out of the bathroom.

The likelihood that he would need it seemed to be increasing rapidly.

He set the towel aside as he reached his desk. He didn’t need it yet, of course. Sure the belt was definitely making things difficult, but nowhere near unmanageable.

Although, he did have yet to take a seat. The belt that was already compressing his bladder would only be compressed further. Through some mental preparation—focused breaths and letting his mind wander to somewhere else long enough to forget about the urge—he managed to actually do it, slowly and carefully sinking into the black leather desk chair.

It hurt, but in a way that didn’t make him wince, but rather made his heart flutter.

Billy chuckled to himself as he typed out his next messages.

chevycamaro79: done

chevycamaro79: ur torturing me

Billy could almost hear the maniacal laughter coming through from the other side of the screen.

K1ngSteve8566: u want me to stop baby?

Billy bit down on his bottom lip. He could hear the voice in those words. He could hear the condescension. Steve wasn’t calling him baby as some term of endearment. No. Steve was calling him a baby, and something about it made his face twist up. A pathetic little baby who can’t control himself we’re the words his own brain supplied.

He didn’t hate it.

He just felt the overwhelming urge to prove Steve wrong, even if there was a part of him that knew he wouldn’t, and even if that same part of him kind of wanted to disappoint Steve, just a little.

chevycamaro79: fuck no!

chevycamaro79: I can hold it!

K1ngSteve8566: where on the scale do u think u r now?

Billy hadn’t even noticed until Steve asked that he was in fact squirming in his chair. It was only little movements—legs slowly rubbing back and forth and periodically shifting in his chair to get more comfortable—it was nothing urgent that he needed to take care of, but it was enough evidence to place him higher up on the desperation scale.

chevycamaro79: 7

chevycamaro79: struggling 2 keep still

K1ngSteve8566: oh yeah?

chevycamaro79: yeah my legs r basically fused shut

K1ngSteve8566: well let’s fix that then

His legs reacted to the message before he did, somehow squeezing even closer together. They both knew how Steve intended to “fix it”.

K1ngSteve8566: spread ur legs apart

K1ngStevw8566: wide as they can go

Billy had to close his eyes and think. He took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly. He wasn’t trying to calm himself down because he didn’t think he could handle it. No, he was trying to calm himself down because this was exactly the kind of shit that he was craving.

Being controlled. Made desperate. Left begging.

He hadn’t reached the begging part quite yet, but he could feel its lingering presence right around the corner.

K1ngSteve8566: and make sure 2 keep drinking ur water

Billy did as he was told, spreading both of his legs apart until his knees reached the edge of each side. The sensation was unimaginable. Every nerve in his body was shooting impulses at him to slam his legs shut again, and it was taking every bit of his strength not to give in.

It was just another scenario that would’ve been made better by the guy actually being there. Billy wouldn’t have to worry about keeping his legs apart himself because Steve would be there with a hand on each of his knees forcing them apart. Or maybe he would tie his legs down to the chair legs. All of the possibilities sounded incredibly enticing.

Billy reached for the glass on the desk, the lean forward had caused his bladder to ache and curse him for moving. His bladder continued cursing him as he took a large drink of his water, continuing to do as he was told, and savoring the sweet sensation of the liquid running down his throat.

K1ngSteve8566: u good?

chevycamaro79: yeah I’m ok

K1ngSteve8566: u do this often?

Billy felt a twinge that rattled his body, but he managed to find himself centered again, rewarding himself with another sip of water.

chevycamaro79: no. It’s hard with my job 2 do long holds

chevycamaro79: this is the 1st time I’ve done this in like 2 months

Billy found himself easily becoming pleasantly distracted by his conversation with Steve.

K1ngSteve8566: but u’ve been controlled b4 right?

chevycamaro79: only a handful of times

chevycamaro79: but yea

K1ngSteve8566: how did they go? tell me about it

Billy didn’t necessarily have a lot of good memories associated with those times. It wasn’t necessarily bad , but it definitely wasn’t anything close to what he was hoping for. They never played around much. They just filled him up with as many liquids as possible and left him alone to get desperate by himself. Sometimes they’d have him push down on his bladder, but for the most part Billy felt like he was the one doing all the work. It resulted in some very unsatisfactory moments of release, where his whole day wound up just feeling like a waste.

He was almost hesitant in letting himself be controlled today. He actually had more luck when he did it completely by himself. The only issue was that he knew his limits, and even if he tried to fight against them, his subconscious would always take over.

He was glad he went through with it though, because Steve was shaping up to be really fucking good at his job.

chevycamaro79: nothing spectacular 2 b honest.

chevycamaro79: i like what ur doing tho

K1ngSteve8566: they ever make u piss urself?

Billy had no control of the blush that creeped onto his face. Without fail, no matter how many times he did this, the idea of wetting himself always filled him with embarrassment. All he knew was that he liked the feeling. He liked the way the dread pooled in his stomach and the humiliation washed all over him like a wave. He liked the way he turned into a shy mess, sweating and shaking and unable to form a coherent string of words.

Unfortunately, for Billy, it really was just merely an idea, at least in the way he craved it.

chevycamaro79: never on accident

He felt almost ashamed typing that out, essentially admitting to the fact that he had done it on purpose before, and even over instant messenger, the disappointment was evident. He wanted to have an accident like a weirdo.

K1ngSteve8566: let’s see if we can change that

The sound that escaped Billy upon reading that message made him almost grateful that he was all alone.

They kept chatting like that for what seemed like no time at all, but according to the clock and his half empty glass of water, it was nearly an hour. Billy’s legs remained spread, and somehow he’d managed to get himself back down to a 6 for the most part, only experiencing some minor shocks, and still not a single leak.

He responded to the loss of desperation by emptying the rest of his glass into his bladder, and he was actually considering going and pouring himself a second glass despite Steve not telling him to. It was sort of ironic to think about how Billy had become the person who wanted to speed things along, because it had always been the other guy.

But, as soon as Billy went to stand up, his hand shot right in between his legs—the legs that were suddenly back to being squeezed shut.

Fuck.

Steve wouldn’t know that he’d done that. He wasn’t there to see it. Billy could easily get off scot-free.

But where was the fun in that?

chevycamaro79: I had 2 close my legs 4 a second

Billy was expecting him to be mad.

K1ngSteve8566: u gotta go that bad huh?

chevycamaro79: it’ll pass

K1ngSteve8566: don’t worry about it baby, I think u’ve done it long enough

That wasn’t in the script. He disobeyed, he was supposed to be punished. He needed to be punished.

Maybe Steve knew that. Maybe that was the punishment.

Billy stayed put in his chair, legs still closed tightly together with his hand wedged in his crotch grabbing desperately at his dick. He was holding himself like a child.

K1ngSteve8566 : r u holding urself?

Fuck. Billy instantly removed his hand, and he was lucky that his legs being pressed together was strong enough to hold him off.

chevycamaro79 : yes

K1ngSteve8566 : did I say u could do that?

No. He didn’t. And Billy on the inside was internally screaming yes yes yes yes yes—

chevycamaro79 : no

chevycamaro79 : sorry

K1ngSteve8566 : I’m gonna have 2 punish u 4 that

Fucking finally, Billy thought to himself.

K1ngSteve8566 : I like my men with good oral hygiene

K1ngSteve8566 : go brush ur teeth 4 me

K1ngSteve8566 : and b sure to leave the water running

Billy was expecting Steve to tell him to press down on his bladder, or do push-ups or jumping jacks or any of those other things that basically guaranteed a loss of control. Having him brush his teeth? That was extremely tame.

But maybe Billy really shouldn’t be too cocky.

Billy moved to get up from his chair, and so far that seemed like it was going to be the hardest part because that last time he tried to get up, leaking started to become a real possibility. He had to be careful with his movements. The belt around his waist was even tighter than before having drank all that water. He was so bloated, and it was getting to the point where he was sure he could pop it like a balloon if he had a needle.

Somehow, by the grace of god, he managed to get himself to his feet. He had to fight the urge to grab at himself again as he walked his way to the bathroom, waddling like a penguin as he refused to let even a centimeters worth of room in between his nearly crossed legs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d managed to become so desperate so quickly. Steve had to have put him under some kind of spell, surely, because there was no way that he was this close to pissing himself before noon.

Miraculously, he made it to the bathroom, and he felt like he had to avert his eyes from the toilet because at this rate, just looking at it could send him reeling.

Billy turned on the faucet and with shaky hands he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste out of the drawer. He was sure he was at a minimum of an 8, and there were short bouts of time just as he was walking to the bathroom that he was encroaching on a 9. Basically, Billy was bursting.

If Billy were being honest, the water running was the least of his worries as he stood there brushing his teeth. It was the fact that he wasn’t allowed to use his hands to hold himself that was the biggest issue. But the running water sure as hell wasn’t helping.

He was squirming. Hell. He was dancing. He was doing the full on potty dance in front of his bathroom sink, ready to scream at the hourglass on the counter to finish so he could spit and turn the water off. He had to go. He really had to go.

The second he could, he shut the water off and dropped his toothbrush into the sink, bracing himself against the counter trying to catch his breath. It almost hurt how badly he had to pee. His dick was throbbing, his bladder was aching. He knew he didn’t have much time left.

It was really happening.

He was actually going to get to experience what it really meant to completely lose control.

He couldn’t really put into words exactly what he was feeling, all he knew was that he was excited, giddy even. He was trying so hard to keep holding on. He wanted Steve to do more. He wasn’t ready to ruin it all just yet.

Billy didn’t even bother sitting down at his desk when he came back to his office. He knew it wouldn’t be a good idea in the state that he was in to add any additional pressure to his already aching abdomen.

chevycamaro79: finished

K1ngSteve8566: gr8. where do u think ur at now?

chevycamaro79: hovering between an 8 and a 9 now.

chevycamaro79: I don’t think I can hold it much longer

Billy knew he wasn’t supposed to hold himself, but if he wanted to prevent himself from having an accident within the next couple minutes, he knew he would have to.

chevycamaro79: can I hold myself?

chevycamaro79: please??

He had finally reached the begging stage. He had never had to ask for something like that. But there he was, pleading with Steve for the simple permission to grab his dick so he didn’t piss himself all over the floor right where he was standing. He still hadn’t even laid the towel down yet. He should probably do that.

K1ngSteve8566: that bad huh?

K1ngSteve8566: I’ll tell u what. go stand still in front of the open toilet 4 60 seconds and I’ll let u hold urself.

Fuck.

chevycamaro79: really?

chevycamaro79: steve I really don’t think I can make it

Billy could hardly type, he had to go so bad. His whole body was shaking and he could feel himself standing right on the edge.

K1ngSteve8566: can’t even control urself 4 a minute?

K1ngSteve8566: pathetic

K1ngSteve8566: it hasn’t even been 3 hours

Steve was right. It wasn’t even noon. Billy had scheduled his whole day around this and he was about to lose it before lunchtime. He needed to be allowed to hold himself soon, and Steve didn’t appear to be budging in his demands.

chevycamaro79: ok I’ll try

Billy had no idea how he was supposed to make it through that. He was close to losing it without holding still. He was about to start making his way back to the bathroom when he heard the sound of another message pop up onto his screen.

K1ngSteve8566: try not 2 think about how good it would feel 2 just let it all go ;)

Asshole.

Billy shuffled back to the bathroom, the fullness of his bladder making it feel like it had extended all the way up into his throat. He just kept trying to think positive, that it would only be a minute, and then after that, he would actually get to use his hands to support himself.

It would be fine. He could do it.

The second he stepped into the bathroom, he knew he was just kidding himself. He didn’t even bother setting a timer, deciding he would just count down the seconds in his head.

He stood in front of the toilet, his eyes closed as he slowed down his breathing and tried to bring himself back down to an 8.

In and out. In and out.

Sixty…fifty-nine…fifty-eight…

Fifty-one…fifty…forty-ni—

Barely ten seconds in and his legs involuntarily clamped themselves together. Billy tried desperately to hold on while at the same time trying to keep himself from moving because he knew that if he moved he’d only be told to start over.

Forty-four…forty-three…

Thirty-six…Thirty-five…

Oh no. Billy’s stomach sank to the floor as he felt himself leak for the first time.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Nononono!” Billy was whimpering and crying just desperately trying to make it stop and regain control. Just standing in front of the toilet—release being right there, right within reach—he was reacting like a dog being presented with a steak; drooling all over the place.

Fucking Pavlov.

Fucking Steve .

Somehow Billy managed to keep it to just one short leak, but he still had just under thirty seconds left to go.

“You can do this you can do this you can do this.”

Twenty…nineteen…eight—

Another spurt of hot piss shot out of him, this time he felt as it soaked through his briefs and formed a very small wet patch on the outside of his jeans.

His breathing was erratic and by that point he was just very slowly dribbling into his underwear, desperately trying to cut off the impending flow. His hands found themselves gripping clumps of his own hair at his scalp, needing to hold onto something since he wasn’t allowed to hold where he needed to.

He was so close, but time moved so slowly.

Nine…eight…seven…six…

He was truly on the brink of fully wetting himself.

Five…four…three…two…

“Shitshitshitshitshit—”

One.

Billy almost immediately shot his hand in between his legs and gripped down on his dick hard. He was sweating from head to toe, somehow his back was more soaked with sweat than his briefs were with his piss.

By some sheer force of magic, and with some added pain, Billy managed to regain control.

But he wasn’t stupid enough to think that by that point his permission to grab at himself would do anything to keep the inevitable from happening.

Billy didn’t even take a chance on letting his hand leave where it lay comfortably in between his legs. He practically sprinted from the bathroom to his office because he’d reached the point where any movement, even the most miniscule, would be detrimental. So he got there as quickly as he could.

He was bouncing up and down at his computer, trying to type out the words with one hand, but deciding to give up on fixing the typos.

chevycamaro79: i leakwd buy i got cntrl bsck

He just hoped Steve could understand.

K1ngSteve8566: oh u really gotta pee huh?

K1ngSteve8566: but good job

K1ngSteve8566: I’m feeling generous so go ahead and take the belt off

He should have felt relief there. He should be thanking Steve for his mercy. Instead, Billy was simply dreading the fact that he was going to have to move again. At the very least, his movements would be rewarded with a decrease in pressure.

He tried his best to do it with one hand, because there was no way he would get away with pulling his other hand out from his crotch by that point. It was clear to him that he was just prolonging the inevitable, but Steve didn’t say he could go yet, so Billy had to continue to fight the futile fight for as long as Steve made him—or as long as he physically could.

With his non-dominant hand he carefully pulled the end of the belt to release it from the hook. That was the shitty thing about belts; you have to pull them even tighter to get them off. Billy was so full he wasn’t totally sure he wouldn’t have to cut himself out of it to get it off. Billy just pulled and pulled, his teeth grinding together as he did it and his other hand grabbing at himself so hard it was beginning to hurt. All that liquid he had stored in his bladder was being assaulted by the additional pressure. Almost there . Billy just kept trying to remind himself of that, despite real relief being nowhere near.

The exact second he got his belt undone his dick spasmed, shooting a powerful spurt of piss directly into his hand, making a loud hissing sound that made Billy just want to cover his ears. He pinched his dick to try and cut it off, and he managed to do so, but any hope he had of making it to noon vanished the very second it happened. It was 11:55. He knew he wouldn’t even last the full five minutes.

Still, he took his belt the rest of the way off, tossing it aside and staring back at his computer screen.

chevycamaro79: not gonns makw it

chevycamaro79: gonns havw an accident

chevycamaro79: pls let mw go

Billy didn’t wait for Steve to respond before finally tossing the towel down on the ground. Maybe Steve would see that as him giving up, but fuck, he was trying and he was still barely holding on.

K1ngSteve8566: oh come on baby I just let u take ur belt off

K1ngSteve8566: ur fine

K1ngSteve8566: u can hold it

Billy bit down hard on his bottom lip, tears slowly spilling from their ducts. He’d never felt like this before. He’d never felt so powerless over his own body. He needed to go but he didn’t want to go, and despite that, he truly had no choice in the matter. At that point it was simply a fight between Steve and his bladder.

Although, it seemed that they were working together. Their main goal was to wreck him.

Billy started trying to frantically type out a reply, but holding one was just becoming more and more difficult as the seconds ticked by, and with his ability to hold on also went his ability to type in coherent English.

chevycamaro79: cant

chevycamaro79: I gottsgo sp bad

chevycamaro79: plsplslsl

In his frustration and desperation he slammed his fist against the keyboard.

chevycamaro79: yehdteyrkjdjsak

Oops.

But he couldn’t type out anything else, because the use of his other hand was gone. He’d reached his breaking point.

He stood there bracing the edge of his desk with one hand, grabbing at himself with his other, holding on for dear life as he felt the pressure just build and build and build…he was dancing around like a child. He bit down again seemingly upon impulse, feeling another small leak escape him, his legs merging themselves together, so close they were basically fused shut.

He spared a glance down, knowing already that the damage was severe. He could feel it in the palm of his hand before he even saw it. The dark patch on the front of his jeans had spread far beyond the perimeter of his own hand, extending almost all the way to mid thigh.

His breathing had grown erratic, peppered in with soft moans as his dick leaked more and more, dribbling like a weak faucet. In the back of his mind he knew holding was a lost cause. He knew even if a message popped up on the screen right then telling him he could go relieve himself, he wouldn’t make it even two feet from where he was standing. He was locked in place, and it was only a matter of time. It was only a matter of a very short amount of time.

It was actually happening. He was actually about to wet his pants. He was actually about to lose all control.

His heart rate sped up at the thought, and that hand that was once propping him up against the desk found itself joining his other hand along in the pointless fight to keep holding on.

Billy moved to make sure he was standing on the towel because it was coming. It was happening. He was about to really piss himself.

Another short stream of piss soaked through the fabric, and that time it was enough that it spilled through the gaps in between his fingers and dribbled out onto the towel underneath him. He was having a much harder time stopping that time, the stream just became less intense, but still present, and still seeping into his pants.

The leaks kept coming. More frequent, and more powerful each time, and he was impressed by the fact that he was still so completely desperate after looking down at his jeans and seeing them soaked all the way down to his ankles. He had so much liquid in him and it was all just begging him to let it out.

He couldn’t though. He had to keep trying.

But he was failing. It was getting too hard to hold back, and the pressure was simply agonizing. He had long passed the point of no return.

He just wanted to let go.

Well, Billy was in luck, because his body finally made that decision for him.

All of a sudden the floodgates were open and Billy was pissing himself at full force into his jeans, getting it all over his hands, and dripping down into a puddle on the towel he was standing on. Billy could hardly allow himself to enjoy the sight of the whole thing—the way it glistened in the lamp light and turned his jeans several shades darker—he was overcome by the way it made him feel.

The relief was like nothing he ever felt before. It had him tossing his head back and curling his toes. It felt like he was coming, but better. He didn’t even have the mind to be embarrassed by it. It felt too good to be encompassed in all the warmth.

He pissed for what felt like forever. The stream seemed to never end and his feet were drowning in a puddle of his own piss. The whole thing just added butterflies to his stomach, and soon enough, as the stream finally slowed to a stop and the warm wetness began to cool, those butterflies started to turn into shame. His mind was no longer caught up in the bliss. He was back to reality.

He had to tell Steve.

Billy finally managed to regain his ability to see and looked at his computer screen. He had two messages from Steve.

K1ngSteve8566: u ok?

K1ngSteve8566 : u there?

Billy realized his hands were still firmly wedged in his crotch, and they were wet and sticky from his accident. He couldn’t exactly wipe them off on his jeans, so he bent down to try and dry them off on a dry part of the towel. It was still gross, but he didn’t feel like cleaning up yet. He felt like he deserved to sit there in his own filth for a while.

He also wasn’t sure his legs had the strength to carry him that far anyway.

Billy typed out the message, but he didn’t hit send. He sort of just stared at it for a minute, feeling his body viscerally shake at just the sight of the three words. He was so embarrassed. He was so humiliated. It overtook him like a wave and he felt like he was drowning and suffocating.

Billy shut his eyes, trying to make some of the weight go away. He wanted Steve there with him. He needed someone to tell him it was okay and that he did his best and that it wasn’t his fault.

He hit send. He knew if he didn’t just do it, he never would.

chevycamaro79 : I wet myself

When there was no immediate response, Billy felt his heart sink to the floor. He felt like nothing but a failure.

chevycamaro79 : I’m sorry

chevycamaro79 : I tried 2 hold it

chevycamaro79 : it just kept coming out

There he was, sitting at his desk in drenched pants, pleading his case with a stranger on the internet while he tried his best to hold back his tears. He felt lost in a way, and he needed help finding his way back.

K1ngSteve8566 : don’t worry bby I’m not mad

K1ngSteve8566 : u did so good 4 me bby

K1ngSteve8566 : I bet it felt so good 2 let it all go

Billy let out a sigh of relief. It felt so good. Steve was saying all the right things and the only thing that could make it better in that moment was if he was actually there with him, saying the words to his face in a soft whisper, giving him sweet kisses and helping him battle the words in his head that insisted he was a failure, and that he wasn’t good enough.

chevycamaro79 : it felt really good

It felt amazing. But it didn’t feel anywhere as good as Steve was making him feel right then.

K1ngSteve8566 : wish I coulda been there

K1ngSteve8566 : wish I had u in my lap while u pissed urself

His face went hot immediately. The blood rushing to his cheeks and to his head and to his dick…fuck, he was so hard. Billy palmed at himself over his wet jeans, the filthiness of it all just adding to how turned on he was.

God the idea of being in his lap? The idea of riding his thigh as a way to hold himself. All the while making out with him, letting him edge him until he’s begging for two different types of release. He wanted that. He needed that.

With a free hand he typed out a reply.

chevycamaro79 : yeah?

K1ngSteve8566 : got me hard just thinking about it

K1ngSteve8566: r u touching urself?

With one hand, Billy undid the button and fly of his jeans, and slipped his hand underneath the soggy material. It was all so wet and so dirty and so fucking hot. He was using his own piss as slick and it made it hard for him to breathe.

chevycamaro79: yeah

chevycamaro79: r u?

There was a minute without answer where Billy was left gently stroking himself with his hand down his pants. He just closed his eyes and kept imagining what Steve had said, chasing the feeling of desperation he just had. There was no fucking way he would make it another two months without this.

Billy was torn from his little fantasy land by the signature “You’ve got mail” sound playing over his computer speakers. He looked up at his screen and noticed Steve had just sent him another instant message.

K1ngSteve8566: check ur inbox

Billy quickly clicked over to his mailbox, and sure enough, right there at the top of the list was an unopened email from [email protected]. There wasn’t anything in the email aside from an attachment.

Maybe it was dumb of him, but he didn’t think twice before clicking on it.

It was an image, slowly loading itself onto his screen, and he was holding his breath as he waited to see the whole thing.

It loaded from top to bottom, and the first thing he saw was a face. It was a man. He had a big head of chestnut brown hair and brown eyes to match. His skin was fair and decorated with moles. He was gorgeous.

The image continued to load and that’s when Billy realized he was shirtless.

Then it loaded more…

He was naked. He was hard. He was jacking himself off.

K1ngSteve8566: I was thinking about u when I took that

Billy wanted to scream. He felt his dick twitch and his pulse race. He couldn’t stop looking at the picture. He couldn’t stop staring at Steve’s dick. Fuck.

chevycamaro79: fuck ur so hot

chevycamaro79: wish u were here

chevycamaro79: want u 2 fuck me

He just went out and said it. He threw shame to the window because he thought he might die if he didn’t say it. He needed Steve to know how desperate he was.

K1ngSteve8566: I’d fuck u so good

K1ngSteve8566: get u all desperate and fuck u after

His breathing stopped. Graphic imagery of everything Steve was saying flashed in Billy’s mind like a movie, and his picked up the pace of his hand, stroking himself frantically until he was coming in his already soiled jeans. He figured he already had to wash them, he might as well.

He felt hungry, like an animal. Hungry for Steve and all that he was offering. Forget anonymity! He needed it! He wanted to sink his teeth in, and take it all.

So pathetic.

He didn’t care.

He slumped back in his chair, energy spent on everything that had just taken place over the previous fifteen minutes. Feeling so overwhelmed and exhausted and probably lacking proper judgement considering he was really about to let another human being in on this secret of his.

God. He was so fucking stupid.

chevycamaro79: is that a promise?

Billy couldn’t help but grin ear to ear when the message popped up on his screen.

K1ngSteve8566: that’s a promise bby

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh

[mourntheantagonist]

I was just reminded of something that’s going down in my college town and thought it could make for a really interesting harringrove premise so, here you go.

so essentially, about three weeks before school started, this new apartment complex that a bunch of people signed leases for and were preparing to move into send out a memo that they won’t be finished building in time, and that students have to find other living arrangements for the time being. what this wound up leading to was hundreds of students being shoved into every vacant unit they could find in town which leads me to…

steve signs a lease with that apartment complex. everything about it looked so promising and it was supposed to be incredibly nice and he was not at all expecting to wind up homeless three weeks before the semester started. fortunately, however, they found a temporary placement for him at this extremely run down complex that people only opt to live in for its close proximity to campus.

steve had no intentions of having a roommate when he first signed his lease, he liked his space, but he was shit out of luck for single bedroom apartments so all he could hope for was that his temporary roommate didn’t suck.

cue billy hargrove.

steve walks in and the apartment is a mess. beer cans litter the floor, the sink is filled to the brim with dishes that have clearly been there a while. the trash is over flowing, the couch has tears in it, there are mysterious stains on the carpet, and there is a man passed out on the floor in the corner.

just as steve is about to go check out the damage on his room, this adonis of a man emerges from the bathroom with nothing but a towel hung loosely around his waist. he introduces himself as billy, and steve all but trips over himself trying to get the words out.

it’s safe to say, in that moment, steve completely forgot about the mess.

#someone feel free to continue this #my brain ain’t working right now so this is all I can offer lol #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh

[mourntheantagonist]

I’ll See You Tomorrow Morning

cw: fluff and smut

read on ao3

It was a day that was many weeks in the making.

as much as they loved their lives—having kids and jobs that they loved—they would be lying if there weren’t some downsides.

one of the biggest downsides; their every conflicting work schedules.

it was a conscious choice that they made after adopting their first daughter. she was only two when she came to live with them, and given her age and the difficult adjustment period that comes with any adopted child, they thought it would be best that they didn’t leave her with any strangers. so, billy switched to the evening shift at the auto shop, because it wasn’t like steve could change his hours as a third grade teacher.

billy also worked weekends. his days off were during the week while steve was at work, and as a result…time seemed to just slip away from them.

it wasn’t like they never saw each other. billy would always still be at home when steve was done at the school. they always had dinner together as a family. it was just that dinners in the harrington-hargrove house happened at four in the afternoon.

they also saw each other in the mornings and at night. neither of them ever made it through a full eight hours of sleep, because billy never went to sleep before telling steve goodnight, and steve never left the house without telling billy good morning.

they had their days off too, where at least half of their days were spent with each other. they savored each hour they had together like it would be their last. however, with one kid having turned itself into three, most of their time together was spent chasing them around the house.

so time continued to slip by, and it never really dawned on them just how much their sex life suffered because of it. it was funny to think about, especially considering that day they first walked into the adoption agency and billy picked up a pamphlet for “how to maintain a healthy sex life while raising a family” and one of the employees looking over his shoulder scoffed. “I can answer that right here for you. you don’t.” billy rolled his eyes, assuming the woman was just talking out of her ass. “not us” they had both agreed.

well. the thing was, it wasn’t like they weren’t having sex. the sex was just limited to the two and seven am quickies they managed to sneak in when billy got home or steve left for work. it was fine for a while…but they were missing something…

but by some grace of an angel answering a prayer that hadn’t really been sent, steve’s mom had called up the house on a monday afternoon, asking if it would be alright if she drove down and took the kids out for the day.

steve had never said yes so fast.

and billy, well, he knew he was saving up all that vacation time for a reason.

it was saturday, and the two of them stood together on the front porch as they watched steve’s mom pull out of the driveway in a car full of hyper little sugar monsters (billy told her not to give them candy before noon).

but, they were her problem now, and the very second the car was out of sight, the two of them bolted inside the house.

they had been talking about it the whole week leading up to it. each quickie they managed to squeeze in was ten times better than usual by just talking about what they’d do when the week was up.

steve, kissing billy’s ear as he thrusted into billy, “just think about how much better this’ll be when I’m able to take my time with you.”

“mmm we’re gonna go all day long baby. all day long.”

“gotta make up for lost time baby.”

it was suffice to say that the two of them were acting like six year olds counting down the days until christmas.

the second they closed their bedroom door, the immediately started stripping each other of their clothes. they were all over each other like animals, billy putting his mouth on whatever open area of skin he could find on steve’s body. kissing his shoulder and his neck and his lips and trailing down the length of his chest until steve’s pants were on the floor. kissing the inside of his thighs while he relished the feeling of steve’s hand in his hair—not pulling, massaging.

billy pushed steve back onto the bed, laying horizontally on top of him and practically making love to the space between steve’s thighs, leaving hickies, licking him, sucking him off until steve was hard and yearning for more.

and then steve rolled the both of them over, billy now the one on his back, steve finally taking charge as the one loving on billy—pressing chest against chest while kissing like their mouths held the oxygen they breathe, steve with a trailing hand and fingers already slick with lube sliding in and out of billy. steve milking each and every one of billy’s desperate moans.

they never got to prep like this before. billy always prepped himself in the shower before getting into bed, making their quickies all the more quicker, because as much as they were still horny like teenagers, yawning during sex wasn’t particularly sexy to either of them.

but steve said he would take his time, and that he did. he knew billy was impatient, especially after nearly four years of getting it whenever and as fast as they could. billy shuddered under ever crook of steve’s finger, and every little tease against his dick as steve ground down on him. billy was impatient, yes, but he made no attempt to tell steve to speed up. all he would say was

“keep going.” panting, sweating, hot, and oh so delirious with pleasure.

and billy was doing what he did best too; keeping steve’s mouth on his, using his tongue as the pen to write a love poem on the inside of steve’s mouth. he had his hand cradling the nape of steve’s neck, keeping him close and sunk down against him, making sure the heat between their bodies couldn’t possibly escape.

steve was four fingers deep inside of billy when he felt that he was finally ready, energy already spent and they hadn’t even started fucking.

billy didn’t let up on his hold against steve, keeping him right where he wanted him like he was precious property. steve was happy to stay put. he was happy to have steve’s mouth on him. he’d never pull away if he didn’t have to. he kept the upper half of him where it was wanted, and worked his bottom half into a more comfortable position. he kicked billy’s knees further apart, and whether it was muscle memory or just another way to keep steve exactly where he was wanted—not that it mattered—billy lifted his legs and wrapped them around steve’s waist, locking his ankles.

steve was slow with his entrance, but the second he’d breached billy’s hole, they were both desperately moaning into each other’s mouths.

billy’s body had gone slack, causing his hold against steve to release just enough that he could get a better look at the gorgeous human being laying beneath him. billy with his gorgeous blue irises glistening underneath stray pleasure tears and his faded freckles that you could only ever see up close. billy and his long blonde hair splayed against the pillow, still sporting a mullet all the way into the next millennium. the blonde hair that was sprinkled with touches of gray that billy would refuse to admit were there, but steve couldn’t help but look at it fondly as it was proof that their teenage fantasies were becoming reality.

“I wanna grow old with you steve harrington.”

steve smiled at the memory.

“god you’re so gorgeous like this baby.” he said, and billy just whimpered below him, but found the strength to bring his hand back up again to cradle steve’s cheek, gently rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I love you, bambi.”

“love you too baby.”

the whole thing was sensual, sweet, and slow. It was hot, steamy, and chest heaving. it was everything.

“mmm close steve.”

steve barely registered what he’d said, just giving billy a nod because so was he. and he could feel billy’s dick twitching against his belly, and he could feel the wetness of the leaking pre.

and steve, well, he felt like his legs were ready to buckle any second. the felt like jelly, tingling.

“gonna come.” steve said, and billy just responded with another kiss.

come for me was what the kiss said.

he was. he did. and so was billy and maybe they were both going crazy but they would both tell each other afterwards that they could see a rainbow of fireworks shooting off before their eyes and popping in their ears.

steve rolled over like a rag doll beside billy, the exhaustion not truly hitting him until his head had made contact with the pillow. all he could do was roll his head to the side to look over at billy, whose chest was heaving up and down and sweat was dripping from his brow.

“wow.” billy said with a weak breath. “that was—”

“—awesome.” they both said it at the same time. then they both laughed. like teenagers again, calling it awesome. it was a good word. it worked well. it fit.

“wanna go again?” billy asked.

that was the plan after all. go until the kids start knocking on the door.

but perhaps that was a dream that was better left in their teenage years.

“honestly?” steve said, rolling over and snuggling into billy’s side, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I’d honestly rather just lay here all day with you.”

“oh thank god,” we’re the words that came out of billy’s mouth, it was a sigh of relief, “I’m fucking exhausted.”

steve just nuzzled into billy. “me too.”

so that was what they did. it was only ten in the morning, the kids hadn’t even been gone for an hour. they just turned on the tv and lounged around in bed all day and they wouldn’t have had it any other way.

it was better than the sex.

billy was right to scoff at that employee down at the adoption agency. their sex life was just fine. it was great, even.

even better, though, their love life was even stronger.

two years down the line, their youngest was finally in school, and billy was finally able to switch back to the day shift.

and their sex life only got stronger after that. sure, they definitely weren’t going at it like bunnies like they used to, but they still knew how to make the other person feel good. they were always sure to set aside time just for themselves to have sex (or just lay in bed all day).

and they were happy.

they didn’t need no stinkin’ pamphlet.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #lemon #mandi writes tresh #this was supposed to be just a short little headcanon but when have I ever been able to follow through with that plan?