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little-werewolf-oven · 6 years ago

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The Parent Escape: Chapter 9

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Chapter 9: The Barbeque

Billy sits in the back of the sedan, feeling like a little kid as he balances the glass bowl holding the “homemade” potato salad on his lap, watching the manicured trees go by while Lyle talks inanely from the driver’s seat. Judy responds every so often, laughing, smiling, catching Billy’s eye in the vanity mirror as she triple checks her lipstick. He gives her a quick thumbs up, which seems to assuage her as she smiles and flips the visor back into place.

Billy’s been on eggshells for the last day and a half, waiting for Judy to call him out, send him packing, demand to have her son back. But things have been good, easy even. They went out to dinner at a pretty swank place the other night, where the waitress gave him a wink and Lyle shot him a knowing nod and brief smile. Judy had seemed totally at ease, drinking wine and laughing at her husband’s stories, smiling genuinely at Billy, no calculation in her eyes. Billy’s not sure if Lyle told her about the broken things in the family room, but maybe, if he did, it made him seem more like Jason, getting all bent out of shape over some chick. Or maybe it was never anything at all to being with and he’s being overly paranoid. A lifetime with Neil Hargrove will do that to a person.

Before long they’re pulling into a lavish driveway, a handful of cars already parked carefully around an ornate fountain. Lyle pulls up behind a red coupe and turns the engine off, and Billy tries not to gawk. This is obviously not Jason’s first time at the Harrington’s, but Billy’s never seen anything like it. Emeryville is small, modest, the biggest houses just a touch smaller than the Scotts’. Even San Francisco doesn’t have places like this, too jam-packed for something this sprawling.

He hurries out of the car, following Lyle and Judy up the walk, tin foil scratching at his fingers as he jostles the bowl a bit in his effort to catch up before Lyle rings the bell.

A glamorous looking older woman answers the door, smiling wide and ushering them inside, accepting the bottle of wine Lyle is carrying and kissing the air next to Judy’s face before she turns her attention onto Billy.

“Would you look at this boy! My goodness, I bet he’s breaking hearts all over the place.”

Billy smirks, and then has to raise the bowl above his head as the woman comes in for a hug, her right hand slipping down his back to give his butt a quick squeeze. His eyes go wide as he grunts, but it’s over as quick as it happened, the woman already turning back to Jason’s parents, taking each of their arms before looking behind her and throwing a quick wink to Billy. He grips the bowl so hard he’s a little amazed it doesn’t shatter, and lets out an audible breath as he sees Steve traipsing down the staircase, his eyes lighting up as they fall on Billy still paused at the landing.

“Hey man, let me take that for you,” Steve says, reaching out for the bowl even before he’s off the final step. Billy hands it over and follows him into the kitchen, where there’s already an impressive spread of food. Steve finds some empty space on the counter to set the bowl before jerking his head toward the sliding glass door, leading to the back patio. Billy follows wordlessly, still taking in the splendor that is the Harrington home, and the backyard is no exception. Meticulously landscaped with an in-ground pool acting as the centerpiece, people dotted around the lawn in groups of twos and threes, an expansive wooded area acting as a natural backdrop.

He’s knocked out of his gawking as a cold glass bottle is pressed into his palm, fingers curling around it responsively. He raises an eyebrow as he looks down and sees the label of some fancy imported beer, then flicks his eyes back to Steve, who winks as he’s already got his own bottle up to his lips.

Damn but he looks good like that.

“So how’s uh, how’s Nancy?” Billy asks, focusing in on his beer as he takes a swig, the liquid cold and crisp and tart on his tongue. Nothing like the Millers he would swipe from his old man’s fridge as often as he could get away with it.

“Haven’t even seen her yet. Apparently they took the long way back, got home late. She called though, said she’d see me here.” Steve’s taking another pull, eyes darting around the lawn, likely looking for the girl in question.

Billy hums noncommittally, not sure what to say in this type of situation. He eyes a couple of girls standing by the pool, giggling and throwing glances their way, and winks at them out of instinct. The one on the right’s face goes as red as her hair, while the other gives him her own sultry smile.

“Geezus, you don’t take time off, do ya?” Steve asks, smiling around the lip of the bottle.

“Nothing wrong with a little fun, Stevie,” he says, turning the wink on him, and chooses to believe the light tint to his cheeks is the beginnings of a blush, and not just the effects of standing directly in the sun for the past hour.

The girls make their way over, the brunette leading the redhead, until they’re standing across from them. They just hang out there for a moment, smiling, taking dainty sips from their soda cans, until the brunette saunters a little closer to Billy, giving him a clear once-over.

“Hey Jason, good to see you’re finally back. Steve.” She tacks on like an afterthought, nodding at Steve with the jut of her chin. Steve rolls his eyes, but keeps a smile on his face, and answers Billy’s silent prayers by living up to his host status and greeting the girls.

“Nicole, Vicki, glad you could make it. Nikki, you still dating Carl?” Billy’s a little thrown by the bluntness of his question, but for all he knows Steve could be looking for a side piece. Though in his opinion he could do a hell of a lot better than these cows.

“We’ll see,” she answers, eyes still crawling over Billy. “Heard Kim’s been going around with Jared. Her loss,” she sets a hand on Billy’s arm, and he knows this game. Perfected it years ago. He flexes a little, enough to get a little gasp from the girl, a spike of interest from her friend, and a jealous glare from Steve. But when he looks over Steve’s not looking at him, he’s looking at the girl, Nicole or Nikki, or maybe it was Vicki? Billy’s shit at names, particularly when he doesn’t care about the person.

Steve’s probably friends with the bitch’s boyfriend, trying to look out for him, make sure his girl stays faithful. He gives a wry grin and a shrug, which effectively drops the girl’s hand from his arm. Steve catches his eye, and looks like he’s about to say something before his focus is pulled to the house. Billy follows his gaze to see a waif of a thing standing just past the patio door, fingers still lingering on the handle.

“Nance!” Steve shouts, face breaking out into a huge grin as he waves his hand over his head. The girl whips her head around, waves and smiles, but her enthusiasm doesn’t match Steve’s. The smile is small, the wave hesitant, which quickly morphs into a “come over here” motion. Steve pats Billy on the shoulder before jogging over, leaning down to give the girl a kiss. Billy’s heart stutters as he watches her move her head a little, so the kiss lands on her cheek instead of her lips.

Even he knows that’s not good.

Billy watches as the skinny girl takes Steve by the hand, leading him away from the rest of the party, around to the side of the house, but not quite out of sight. Not from where Billy’s standing, anyway, drinking his beer, pretending to listen to Vicki or Nikki or whoever prattle on. He can still see them, see Steve pull his hand away, see the girl’s hands raise, clutch at her chest. See Steve start to reach for her before pulling his hand back as she turns a shoulder. And he should feel terrible when he sees the girl run off around the house, Steve stalking the other way, brushing past a couple of people and pulling the sliding door open with more force than necessary. He should feel sad for his friend, empathize with him, not feel a little spark of giddiness, hope in the idea that Harrington is newly single.

Not that that means anything for him.

“Oh no, that looked bad. Maybe someone should talk to him,” Vicki/Nikki says at his side, and yeah, yeah, friends totally do that shit for each other. He tosses his empty bottle behind him and heads for the door, not bothering to say goodbye to whoever was talking with him. That’s Jason’s problem for later.

Steve needs him now.

He slides the door open, stepping into the air conditioning with a sigh. California’s hot, but Indiana summers are fucking humid. His skin feels tacky with drying sweat as he makes his way through the house, unsure which way Steve would have gone. He pauses to listen, blocking out the party noises from outside best he can, and that’s when he hears it. The faint sounds of drums and a synthesizer, muffled through the ceiling. Billy trots up the stairs, rolling his eyes as he catches some of the strains of music. Classic fuckin’ heartbreak.

The sounds of Bonnie Tyler lead him to a closed door. No signs or stickers on it, nothing to personalize it as Steve’s, but it has to be his. He turns the knob and pushes the door open slowly, not bothering with knocking, and finds Steve splayed out over the bed, head tilted up to the ceiling, eyes closed. He’s also absolutely assaulted with plaid (who the hell decorates with plaid?) but chooses to focus on Steve.

“Hey man, you okay?” The boy on the bed jerks, then covers his face with a pillow.

“Geeeeezus fuck, get out, man.”

“You know I’m not gonna do that,” Billy pushes the door shut behind him, resting his back against the wood, knob digging into his tailbone. ��Too good a friend.”

“Yeah yeah,” Steve flings the pillow at him, which he easily grabs out of the air and carries around with him as he walks slowly through the room, taking in the trophies and the pictures, the collection of cassettes on Steve’s dresser. He wonders if it would be weird if he sat on the bed with him, just nudged his legs over and settled in. Jason had probably done it plenty of times, they seemed close in all the pictures, and Steve, god, Steve had touched him so much that day they hung out. To get his attention, to make a point, sometimes just to laugh.

Just as he’s about to bite the bullet and join the prettiest boy he’s ever seen on probably the most expensive bed he’s ever been in a room with, Steve sits up, scrubbing his hands over his face and through his hair, making it stand up and shoot out in all sorts of crazy angles.

This does nothing to quell the want Billy feels in his gut.

“So I bet you can guess what happened,” Steve says, hand still rubbing at the side of his face.

“Yeah… you, uh, you wanna talk about it?” Fuck, Billy’s out of his depth.

“No... yeah... maybe, I mean… god,” Steve flings himself back onto the bed, arms flying out on either side, legs dangling over the edge. Billy moves in closer, pillow still clutched to his chest.

“Says she met someone at camp.” Steve starts, looking straight at the ceiling, “They got close, ended up kissing and shit, and she wants space so she can explore this.” Billy can practically see the air-quotes in Steve’s voice.

“And I was ready to forgive her! Like, I get it, away from home, new experiences, a taste of the wild side, like, who hasn’t thought about it? But then- you come home, and you realize everything you wanted was right here all along. Isn’t that how the story’s supposed to go?”

“Stories are all bullshit,” Billy says, setting the pillow back onto the bed between the headboard and Steve’s waist, resting his own hip against the side of the mattress.

“And what’s real crazy, I feel like, I knew it was coming? Like, I kinda knew that, when she got back, we were gonna break up. I almost didn’t wanther to come back. Just... live in ignorance.”

“Nah,” Billy eases himself onto the bed, one cheek and a thigh balanced precariously on the edge of the mattress, “better to get out and move on. Plenty of fish in the sea, yeah? And a pretty boy like you? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Steve snorts, “Easy for you to say.”

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he hoists himself up, flinging his legs around until he’s on his knees, nearly jostling Billy right off the bed, “you and Kim are barely broken up and you’ve already had pretty much every girl in town jumping on you. Come back from camp looking all tan and perfect. Fuck man, with you on the market no one’s gonna glance at me.”

“Shit, when was the last time we were both single?” Billy deflects, partly to get information, but mostly so he doesn’t slip up and say something stupid like Are you insane? I’d do you in a second, you’re gorgeous! Yeah, he can’t imagine that going over well.

“Shit… probably… freshman year? Between Tina and Jessica for me… can’t remember who you were with.”

“Don’t matter. Point is, we both still made it out, yeah? And like I said, plenty of bitches in the sea.” Steve looks at him, eyebrows raised, and Billy realizes his slip up. Jason’s probably never called a girl a bitch in his life.

But Steve just smiles, easing himself back down so his butt is back on the bed, long legs half-on, half-off.

“Yeah, yeah this could be good, us single at the same time. Hell of a lot better than third-wheeling it, am I right?” He smacks the back of his hand against Billy’s shoulder, patting him twice before he rests it back on the bed, twisting at the blanket a little bit.

“Damn straight,” Billy says, absently rubbing the spot where Steve had just touched him.

“Do you remember-” Steve laughs and looks away, down at where his finger is picking at a loose thread on his comforter, “do you remember in 6th grade, when Tommy first got with Carol and bragged about kissing her, and we -heh- we were too embarrassed to say we’d never kissed anyone? So we decided we should practice?“ Billy’s heart is beating a million miles a minute, he’s so scared he’s going to go into cardiac arrest before he gets to see this play out.

“Yeah- yeah I remember you were real bad at it.” Steve shoots a wide-eyed look at him, but grins when he sees Billy’s own smile.

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t know what to do with your tongue! All bllaahahala,” he closes his eyes and swipes his tongue back and forth across his open mouth. Billy scoffs and shoves him a little, causing Steve to lose his balance and fall back, laughing as he catches himself on his elbows.

“Yeah well, I know what I’m doing now,” he can’t help but rake his eyes over Steve and god, he looks so good, half laid out on the bed, shirt rucked up just enough to see a sliver of belly, a trail of dark hair leading down.

What the fuck was Nancy thinking?

“Yeah? Maybe you should prove it,” Billy’s eyes shoot to Steve’s, unsure if heard right. If Steve meant what he thinks he meant. What he hopes.

“What, you want- you want me to bring whatshername up here and show you?” His voice is hoarser than he remembers, heart beating so hard he can hear it in his ears. Steve rolls his head to the side, glancing out the window where the barbeque is still in full swing. Now that he’s focusing Billy can hear the lame 60’s music from the outside; he’d been so tuned in on Steve that he didn’t even notice when Bonnie had stopped telling them to “turn around, brighteyes.”

“Eh, that seems like a lot of work for a quick demo-”

“Who said anything about it being quick?” Steve’s eyes widen as he pushes himself back up to sitting, their faces less than a foot apart.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all,” he smiles, brown eyes shining a little as he leans forward. And Billy knows this move, knows what’s happening, knows he should stop him. Jason would stop him.

Thank god he’s not Jason.

Steve is achingly gentle, from the way his fingers comb through Billy’s hair, to how he brushes their lips against each other once, twice, testing the waters before pressing forward, sealing their mouths together. And Billy’s no virgin, kissed pretty much every girl in Emeryville and fucked more than a few, but this, nothing has ever come close to this. The way Steve lets out a little gasp every time he pulls away, just to dive back in for more. The way he nibbles on his lower lip, tongue coaxing his mouth open.

It is far and away the best kiss Billy has ever had.

He feels a light tug at his neck, urging him to follow Steve down, down, until his forearms are pressed against the mattress, boxing Steve in as the rasp of their jeans rubbing against each other grows more frantic. There are too many layers between them still, but the friction is delicious, with Steve’s hands palming Billy’s ass, squeezing and tugging, seemingly hellbent on defying all physics and getting them skin to skin without removing any clothing.

Billy’s mouth move’s to Steve’s jaw, following the strong line up to his ear, where he tugs on his earlobe, hoping Steve is like him, likes a little pain with his pleasure. A sharp groan and a thrust of his hips is Billy’s reward, and he grins even as he still holds the earlobe captive between his teeth.

“Mmmm, Jason,” Steve moans into his hair, and it’s as though a bucket of ice water’s been poured down Billy’s pants. Fuck, how could he get so carried away?

“Shit, Steve, you’re-” he breathes out, pulling away, getting as much distance as his arms will allow, “we gotta stop.”

“What?”

“You- you’re sad, and you’re lonely, and I don’t- I don’t want to be a mistake you regret later.”

Steve looks up at him, lips bruised, hair tousled, looking every inch Billy’s nightly fantasy- except for the eyes. His eyes are dark, hard, betrayed.

“I think you should go.”

“Steve-”

“Go!” He shouts, eyes widening, scrambling out from underneath Billy. “Get out! Don’t, don’t tell- just, just don’t.” He works his way off the other side of the bed, hands running through his hair as Billy adjusts his pants, his shirt, wondering how fucked over he looks, before Steve’s pointing a damning finger at him.

“I swear to god, Scott, you tell anyone-”

“Yeah yeah,” he raises his hands in mock surrender, backing toward the door, “just some practice, right? Stay sharp in the off season?”

“Yeah,” Steve drops his hand to his side, where it immediately flies back up to run through his hair for the fiftieth time, “yeah.”

“Gotta say, though” Billy grins as he turns, reaching for the doorknob, “we’re a hell of a lot better now than we were in 6th grade.” The sound of Steve’s barked out laugh behind the shutting door eases the tightness of the rope that seems to have wrapped itself around Billy’s chest.

Fuck, Hawkins, Indiana is gonna be the death of him.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #hargrove twins #harringrove fanfiction #yo if anyone wants to make better graphics for this thing I would be SO DOWN #late night crowd

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