#not really jealous steve but slightly wounded and ready to prove you wrong

[cockasinthebird]

hi i just read your tags on the arm wrestling thing and???? please?? write that???? please i need it i might actually start crying rn but i am hungover so lets blame it on that ily

Hiiii! Before you even sent this ask I was thinking about it hahahahaha, aaaaand I hope this is satisfactory work!

Tagging @thinger-strang because they seemed quite interested as well~

Hope you feel better soon bby, ily2!!! Drink plenty of water!

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Hand in hand, elbows firm on the dining table, gazes locked unblinkingly so, they’re connected tightly this late afternoon.

It was a usual Saturday at first - the gang was in the middle of their intense DnD session; a hobby they decided to move to the Harrington mansion because here there’s no parents to interrupt and, frankly, better snacks.

A decision paired well with how Billy has been helping Steve out with his tower of homework once a week for the last half a year or so, and Max is elated because it means she doesn’t need to get a dorky bike when she can just hitch a ride with her step-brother.

Billy and Steve were, metaphorically, elbow deep in English literature, homework on Edgar Allan Poe and the “romantic era” of poetry, which to Billy isn’t exactly something he wants to study so closely with the one guy he can’t ever stop thinking about; can’t ever have.

So when the little brats shouts for them, interrupting whatever Steve was asking about, gesturing with those hands, hair smelling so fucking good of expensive shampoo- what is that? Lavender?

The six of them trot into the dining room, Max looking horribly exasperated, arms crossed and rolling her eyes as Will and Dustin fight about something way too loudly.

“Hey!” Billy shouts but they don’t stop. “Hey!” Louder this time and it visibly shakes poor Will. “What is it?” 

“Well, we were on our way to fight this dragon, ordered by lord-” Mike starts explaining but stops promptly as Billy raises his hand up.

“The short version, we’re kinda in the middle of something here.” Billy gestures to the incomprehensible mess of papers and books in front of him and Steve, who looks relieved at the chance of a break.

“So we’re in a tavern” Mike tries again, but-

“This better be quick, Wheeler, or you’ll have to explain to your mom how your bike got bent.”

“Billy,” Max groans with a hard stare, after all, he had agreed to be nice.

Both to her and to Steve.

“We need you guys to arm wrestle!” Mike spits out and looks between the vastly stronger, older guys.

And at that Billy can’t help but grin all crooked with exposed teeth. See that’s something he can get behind; a chance to show off and prove he’s still the King, even if he and Steve have found something akin to friendship after their truce.

“Well why didn’t you just say so,” Billy almost chuckles. He places an arm across the back of Steve’s chair and turns to look at him. “What’d you say, princess?”

Steve looks more than a bit intimidated, eyeing Billy’s arms, chest, grin, and then Dustin and the rest. “What’s at stake?”

“Oh, we’re at this tavern, and Max and Lucas have each bet on these two strong orcs sitting and doing an arm wrestle in the middle of a roaring crowd, and we need you guys to decide who wins! For it to be fair,” Dustin says, shockingly without any interruption from Billy, and smiles oh so wide that Steve even asked.

“Okay, sure,” Steve doesn’t sound very convincing, but he shakes his head and stands up to walk to the other side of the table.

“But it’s not fair!” Max shakes her head. “Billy is clearly going to win, so how do we decide which of the two orcs he is?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Steve’s voice a slight bit shaky, perhaps because everyone knows he’ll lose, even himself.

Billy just sticks out his tongue at him and rumbles forth a chuckle. Oh he is going to destroy Steve, no doubt about it. He’s been looking at those arms, fought him before even, and while he’s not the worst fighter Billy’s been up against, he’s far from the best.

“How about I say the names and they decide which one they’ll be? That way they don’t know who bet on who, and you guys won’t have a say in it?” Will asks as he settles into the chair next to Steve, ready to judge the show of strength.

“Genius!” Lucas proclaims and sits down on the other side of Steve.

Max simply scoffs and goes to stand next to Billy.

“We have Urzok the Infernal, and Dhakk the Mighty,” Will offers up and looks between Steve and Billy,

“I’ll take Dhakk the Mighty,” Billy drawls out and wags his tongue at Steve, whose Adam’s apple bobs visibly as he swallows hard.

“Guess I’m Ur… Urok?”

“Urzok,” Will says with a far too serious tone, as if it actually matters.

And their hands clasp together atop the sea of notes. Strong, firm, warm, soft. Does Steve use lotion on his hands? Billy teasingly squeezes the other’s hand a bit tighter for a short moment, a little signal of “You’re going down, pretty boy.”

But for some reason that Billy isn’t too keen on exploring, Steve squeezes back, and his heart does a dangerous flip that nearly causes his cocky grin to falter. Does he know what he’s doing to Billy? Is he aware of the stupid effect this causes?

“Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Steve says with sudden confidence, as if he fucking knows.

“Yeah, ready.” Billy counts it as a victory that he doesn’t stutter those two simple words.

He’s starting to sweat, actually, and prays that Steve doesn’t notice it - that his hand doesn’t turn clammy and gross. The first time he touches Steve’s hand and he’s going to ruin it by being sweaty and sticky.

“1… 2…”

Somehow it’s the slowest countdown he’s ever listened to.

“3… Go!”

And Billy’s entire arm tenses up immediately. Steve’s pushing against him, grasp tight and desperate, is this all he got? Billy’s not even moving yet, rock steady although he can feel that Steve could probably win with enough determination, the way his arm is starting to go in the wrong direction.

So he pushes back a bit, just enough so that Steve knows, arms going in the right direction this time, further and further in favor of Billy.

The kids are shouting and screaming their names- well, the orc names, but Billy doesn’t really register their words or who’s cheering for who. He’s gazing straight into those eyes where he drowns in honey, staring back beneath a tense brow.

Steve’s smiling somewhat, it’s hard to tell from the way his lips are pulled tight, but Billy has watched Harrington enough to know his expressions.

And as Steve’s arm starts to shake ever so slightly - not visibly so, but felt in their grasp - Billy’s not even halfway through his energy reserve, and honestly he’d hoped for a bit more of a challenge, but…

He eases up, just enough for it to be believable as Steve starts pulling him in the other direction. Even so, Billy is not about to go down easy. Halfway to his loss and he’s still holding strong, Steve’s exhaustion more apparent now yet he smiles lighter, forehead less wrinkled, some gleams in his eyes.

The back of Billy’s hand meets the table softly, and everyone but Max jumps up ecstatically, clapping and shaking Steve by the shoulders as he won.

Steve’s got both his hands in the air now, leaving Billy to feel weirdly lonely, but he won’t dwell on that.

“Yeah!” Steve hollers victoriously, pumping his fists so full of vigor. “And the crowd goes wild!” He cups his mouth like a megaphone and mimics a cheering crowd as best as he can.

Dustin and Lucas jump around him, shouting all sorts of nonsense that isn’t meant to be understood past their excitement, yet Max’s scoff manages to be heard above their celebration, and she stomps back into the living room with El and Mike in tow.

“Change that to Urzok the Champion!” Steve shouts just as elated as the kids and points to Will, who’s almost beaming at the way those three makes a scene.

Unfortunately, Billy hadn’t really given the side effects of victory any thought, and seeing how happy Steve is to have won stirs something in him.

“Harrington! Harrington! Harrington!” Steve, Dustin and Lucas all chant like they’re at a football game, all deep and gruff. “Harrington! Harrington! Harrington!”

There’s a pang of heart and a souring of his gut. Billy knows that he let Steve win. There’s no need to feel threatened or jealous or whatever. Kinda angry, kinda entertained. Kinda sick-ish.

“You really thought you had me there for a moment, huh Billy?” Steve points to where Billy remains seated, smiling but not with full honesty. “Thought you could defeat the King!”

Okay that does it. “Come on pretty boy, one more time, just for fun,” there’s restraint at the edge of his tone, and his smile twitches with something mean. He pats the table and offers up his hand again.

But Steve throws his head back as he laughs in a mocking tone, friendly enough, although far too boastful.

“Nah, I won-” He presses a finger against his chest, then points to Billy. “-And you lost!” 

The way Steve smiles so wide actually hurts in a way, and it is shocking how something so small and meaningless can wound Billy’s pride.

“And you can never-” Steve slams both hands onto the table. “-Ever-” He leans in close enough for Billy to feel him breathe out, “-Take that away from me.”

There’s a far too familiar desire to reach out, to touch skin, to meet the source of those words. Billy’s only seconds away from either punching Steve or kissing him, he can’t really tell, but his entire being is ready to act.

Steve doesn’t linger there though, pulls away and lifts up his arms, flexes his biceps and tips his head down to plant a kiss on each, really showing off just how strong he is, boasting about being the victor.

“Guys come on!” Mike shouts from inside the living room, clearly very impatient.

“Yeah yeah we’re coming!” Dustin replies at the same volume and sets off.

“Thanks,” Will speaks low, or maybe it just sounds like it from the way the others assaulted Billy’s eardrums with their shrieking.

And soon enough they’re all alone again.

Billy slumps against his chair, playing with a pencil that will soon break under the tension of his unresolved feelings.

Steve puts his hands on his hips, chest heaving as he tries to calm down again, looking just as flushed and worn out as he does after basket. He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, then returns to his seat right next to Billy, who’s smiling something so sly.

“You… you let me win, didn’t you?” Steve asks all breathless and runs a hand through his hair. His exhaustion comes more from the wild gloating than the actual wrestling they did.

“All I can say is…” Billy leaves a pause that is a clear indication of a yes as he eyes Steve up and down. “Congrats on the win, Urzok the Champion.”

#Harringrove #My Writing #I'm gonna label this as a #request #because technically it is hehehe #hope you both liked it!!! #I had a lot of fun writing it #got longer than intended ofc #but that's how it goes #lesbianferrissbueller