#flip it reverse it 2023

[greyghoulclub]

Harringrove Flip it Reverse it prompt 1 - fluff becomes angst: stargazing

Billy antis DNI

For @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

edit: <a href = "Look up to the stars - greyghoulclub - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]"> ao3 link here! </a>

When Steve was little, his mom taught him about all the constellations in the night sky. The big dipper, Orion and his belt, Ursa major and minor. They would go out in the middle of the night to sit on the lawn and use a telescope to see them. His mom would point in the general direction of a constellation and Steve would find it with the telescope.

“Mom! Look!” little Steve beckoned her over to the telescope, the biggest grin on his face. His mom would chuckle, push her long brown hair over her shoulder, and bend down to look through the telescope.

“You can see the big star in Orion’s belt right? Beetle- uh- juice?” Steve was talking a mile a minute because the star in question was brighter than usual. His mom chuckled from her position at the telescope, a beauty mark on the corner of her mouth moving into the crease of her cheek.

“Yes, I see Betelgeuse sweetheart, and there’s Rigel right next to it.” When Steve looked confused, she told him to look at the constellation again. “You see the blue star next to Betelgeuse? That’s Rigel.”

“It’s really blue,” Steve was fascinated by the little blue star, as they usually didn’t see it this bright. His mom only smiled and wrapped them in the blanket she’d brought outside.

When Steve got older and girls turned out not to be so yucky, Steve would take them out on stargazing dates to be romantic. The girls had loved it, something about how romantic it was to be kissed under the stars. And how they thought that King Steve couldn’t be as romantic as he was. Steve would chuckle and say something along the lines of ‘well, I like to make it special for a pretty girl’. Then Nancy came along and it didn’t work with her. For once in his life, King Steve had to work for something.

“Do you take all the girls on these stargazing dates?” she had ribbed at him, not in a bad way, but she was right. Nancy wasn’t going to be as easily wooed, but Steve liked a challenge. So he tried to do things that aligned with her interests, like library dates, the librarian raised an eyebrow at seeing him there. Nancy had liked going to the Hawk for a midnight showing of a new mystery movie, and trying to figure out what was going on before the characters did.

Then the upside-down stuff started happening, and Steve didn’t believe it at first, yeah right his pool had a portal to a different version of Hawkins right in the middle of it, and there were monsters that took creepy Byers’s little brother. Steve still didn’t believe it until he had seen the monster with too many teeth had to beat its face, if you could even call it a face, in with a baseball bat. Steve still saw the thing in his nightmares.

What he didn’t count on was Billy Hargrove. The Californian transplant who had crashed into his life with Motley Crue blaring and a bad attitude. He seemed to be King Steve cranked up to eleven. Billy Hargrove, who had stolen two titles right from under his nose. Billy Hargrove, who had beaten the shit out of him at the Byers' house in November and smashed a plate over his head. But also Billy Hargrive who had come to his house in the middle of January with a split lip and bruised ribs. Billy Hargrove who had silently cried into his shoulder when Steve realised it was his dad who was hitting him and that night at the Byers’ finally made sense.

They had kept their relationship a secret, out of necessity, only ever being intimate when no one else was around. Steve treasured those small moments when Billy had finally let his guard down. The real Billy was someone who had the oceans in his eyes, someone who had a soft spot for the stray cats around Hawkins, someone who was completely at ease in the water. Steve could’ve sworn that he was a mermaid in a past life.

Then Billy got possessed by the Mindflayer.

It was so goddamn painful knowing that he could’ve done so much more to help Billy but he was scared. Scared of the world knowing but Billy had also sworn them to secrecy. He knew that Billy was possessed and he did nothing. He worked the shitty ice cream parlour job at Starcourt acting like he didn’t know what was going on with Billy.

When Billy sacrificed himself to save everyone from the monster, after El had gotten through to him, Steve felt like his heart was ripping in two. There was no way Billy was surviving that. Billy died not knowing that Steve was there in that mall too, that Steve wanted to help him too. How scared must he have been? Not knowing what the hell was going on but his body was doing something that he never asked it to. Steve saw Max sobbing over Billy’s limp body and he was angry with everyone for a second, El had the psychic powers that could’ve saved them all and Billy wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice himself. Why didn’t the kids help Billy like they’d helped Will? Why didn’t he do anything?

Steve watched on as Billy’s body was taken away by guys in white suits for testing. He knew there wouldn’t be a body in Billy’s casket. Steve felt as if he got a limb ripped off. His life wasn’t going to be the same now that Billy wasn’t in it. He didn’t think it was ever going to be the same.

After Billy’s closed-casket funeral, Steve got out his old telescope and found Orion in the night sky. Standing proud and tall with his bow. Focusing on that blue star in the belt. Steve hoped that Billy could see the same from wherever he was now.

[harringrove-flip-reverse-it]

2024 Prompts

Here are the prompts for Harringrove Flip Reverse It 2024! Don't forget to come and find your people in the Heebie Jeebies discord server while you figure out which ones you're going to fill!

Don’t forget….. Fluff prompts should be angsty…. Angst prompts should be fluffy…. NSFW prompts should be SFW…. SFW prompts should be NSFW…. And Trope Subversion prompts can be anything EXCEPT the traditional way of interpreting the prompt!

Monday 1st July

Fluff:  Found family Angst:  Misunderstandings NSFW:  Dom/sub SFW:  Language of flowers Trope Subversion:  Love at first sight

Tuesday 2nd July

Fluff:  True love’s kiss Angst:  Touch starvation NSFW:  Sex pollen SFW:  Prank war Trope Subversion: Arranged marriage

Wednesday 3rd July

Fluff:  Spa day Angst:  Scars NSFW:  Coming untouched SFW:  Dancing Trope Subversion: Soulmarks

Thursday 4th July

Fluff:  Blanket fort Angst:  Self-sacrifice NSFW:  Collar and leash SFW:  Protectiveness Trope Subversion: Time loop

Friday 5th July

Fluff:  Candlelit dinner Angst:  Regrets NSFW:  Threesomes SFW:  Dog walks Trope Subversion: Enemies to lovers

Saturday 6th July

Fluff:  Valentine’s Day Angst:  Taken prisoner NSFW:  Overstimulation SFW:  Meeting the parents Trope Subversion: Regency AU

Sunday 7th July

Fluff:  Love letters Angst:  Trust issues NSFW:  Blindfolds SFW:  Beach day Trope Subversion: Bodyswap

[literallyjusttoa]

ToApril Day 10: Flowers, Threads and Needles.

Saw this prompt and immediately thought of the strings of fate. Poor Apollo and his tendency to have the people he's attached to die painfully. No wonder he ends up blaming himself, with how much his life has become a walking tragedy.

(Ignore the fact that I ignored the other two words in this prompt. Hyacinthus is a flower right? It counts)

[chrisbitchtree]

Can't Touch This

For Harringrove Flip It Reverse It - Day 4

Prompt - Angst turned into fluff - "Don't touch me!"

***

If you’d first asked Steve when he met Billy what he thought the blonde would pursue as a career, kindergarten teacher would have been way at the bottom of the list, under mechanic and carpenter, below bartender or surf shop owner, even down below stripper.

But to Steve’s shock, it’s what Billy had chosen, finding that he had a passion for it, and he was thriving. He came home every day covered in stickers and finger paints, glitter and confetti in his hair, his curls up in a bun and one of his signature pastel button-ups on.

He’d regale Steve with stories about what a beautiful tree Lily drew or how Eddie had finally corrected his habit of drawing half the letters in the alphabet backwards on his worksheets. He glowed with pride over every single one of his student’s accomplishments, and it was the highlight of Steve’s day every single day to hear about it.

Billy always got home earlier than Steve, so he would make dinner. Steve would sit at their little wooden table for two, watching Billy with a dreaming look in his eyes while Billy would whip up spaghetti, sauce bubbling away at his side while he boiled noodles, or flip baked chicken breast and fluff up Rice-aroni, they favourite side, talking a mile a minute about the fact that Timmy was no longer scared of the toilet or that Rachel hadn’t tried to eat paste in three days.

It helped Steve unwind after a long day as a high school math teacher and all the drama that went along with educating dramatic, hormonal teenagers who would flip on a dime, going from polite model student one minute, to raging asshole the next. It took a lot out of Steve, but he got a lot out of it in return. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t envy the cozy little world Billy had created for his own students.

***

When Steve arrived home late one sunny April afternoon, he could tell something was wrong the second he saw Billy. His face was pulled into a tight grimace, his shirt was untucked, and he was trying with all of his might to scratch the middle of his back. From the way he was hopping around, his arm fully extended, it didn’t seem like it was going to well for him.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, trying not to laugh at the image in front of him, difficult as it was. He really wished he had a camera right now.

Billy kept hopping around, seemingly unable to find relief. “Don’t know. I’m so itchy, and it won’t stop. It’s been like this all day.”

Let me have a look, Steve said.

Billy stopped moving for a minute and Steve lifted the hem of his shirt. Billy’s back was covered in small, red spots.

“Ummmm, Billy? Have you ever had chicken pox before?” Steve asked, lowering the shirt and walking down the hall to the bathroom.

“No?” Billy said, although it came out more like a question. “I don’t think so? Why? Do I have it? Don’t touch me!”

“Well, I guess it was bound to happen at some point, working with little kids. I’m honestly surprised that you lasted this long. And it’s fine. I’ll put on gloves.” He returned to the kitchen a minute later, calamine lotion in one hand and a pair of rubber gloves in the other. “Take off your shirt and lay down on the couch. I’ll put some on your back and it’ll help with the itch.”

Billy did as he was told, laying on his front on the plush, floral couch that was the centrepiece of their living room. Steve straddled his hips, flipping the top on the bottle. He poured some into his palm before closing the bottle and dropping it onto the carpet. With the pointer finger of his other hand, he painted the dots, trying to make sure he caught every one.

He gave the lotion a minute to dry before having Billy stand and take off his pants, so Steve could check for spots below his belt. Thankfully, except for a couple on his thighs, he seemed safe so far.

“Stupid kids,” Billy grumbled. “Stupid parents letting their kids go to school sick. Now I’m going to have to take time off. We were supposed to vote on who won the art contest tomorrow. They even promised they wouldn’t just all vote for themselves. Now stupid Sandra is going to get to do it.”

Steve watched him with amusement as he ranted, the lotion drying an adorable pink colour that stood out in stark contrast from Billy’s golden tan. He’d come a long way from when they were foulmouthed teenagers, when every second word was fuck or shit or goddammit. Now it was all stupid and silly and gosh. It was cute that he was getting so worked up over this.

“It’s ok, baby,” Steve chuckled. “I know this means a lot to you, but there will be other art contests. It’s important that you stay home and get better, so you don’t make any of the kids sick.”

Billy sighed. “I know, it just sucks.” He raised his arm to scratch his back and Steve swatted it away.

“No scratching, that’s how it spreads.”

Billy stuck out his lower lip, pouting. “But it’s itchy! I can’t take it!”

As Steve’s mother had done for him when he’d had chicken pox years ago, Steve grabbed oven mitts for Billy to slip on his hands. “Here you go, this’ll help keep you from scratching. Sit down, put a movie on, and try not to think about the itch. I’ll order a pizza and then come sit with you. Ok?”

Billy nodded in agreement, making his way to the couch.

Steve watched him fondly, forever grateful for this sweet, kind, silly, wonderful man.

[kiraixi]

Thursday 30th March ✩  “Roleplaying” (Flip-Reverse) @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

“Billy?”

No reply.

He could’ve sworn he heard giggling.

Probably just next door.

Steve walks over to the kitchen retrieving his coffee. When he arrived home Billy was fast asleep, a usual habit right after class. Steve’s been busying himself with light cleaning and leftover classwork.

He grumbles at cigarette butts littering the coffee table, it’s a habit his boyfriend’s been trying to kick for a while but sometimes he relapses. 

He brushes them into the trash and moves towards the fireplace, righting any lopsided decor. There are photo’s dating all the way back to 10th grade when they first met, picking one up he wipes it fondly.

It’s been six years of love, conflict and forgiveness.

 Steve bites his lip, he’s been mulling over the decision of getting down on one knee, even has the ring picked! It’s been broached as abstract over the dinner table but when Steve gets into the details he tends to clam up. It's been real hard navigating the landmine of Billy Hargrove’s feelings. 

His boyfriend is a free spirit, a wild bird and he’d never want to make Billy feel as though he’s tie-ing down him down.

There’s movement in the bedroom again, now Billy’s laughter is loud and clear. Steve can hear words being said so he puts his ear against the door trying to decipher. 

​​'Oh no, Billy what are you doing?? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

A pause, 

'Steve not you too! can you please pick her up at least?"

The blonde normally talks to himself when playing games, it’s a cute quirk he’s always had. Steve especially loves to hear his stream of thoughts when they play horror games together, never ceases to crack him up.

He turns the handle walking in. Billy is faced away playing on that crappy  school provided Chromebook. Strange.. he normally uses the PC in the living room for personal things 

"Babe?"

His boyfriend spins in the chair, slamming the laptop shut. The fan working overtime, an awkward ambience.

"oh, hey Steve."

"What are you playing?"

He spins around a few times “Nothing…”

Steve walks up to him, stilling Billy's chair. "Can I see?" He uses those irresistible puppy eyes. "Please?"

"Fine... don’t laugh"

He opens the laptop showcasing a household on a new game he’s been obsessing over, Steve still can’t really understand the allure. It also has a funky name, Simps? Sism?

Billy shyly gives a tour of a family consisting of Steve and him, happily married with three kids. Lillian, Sammy and Cecilia.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Do I not get a say on our children's names?”

Billy looks away, blushing. "I thought you wouldn't be interested.."

Steve laughs, kissing his cheek, “Is this us in the future?"

His face tints red. "Maybe"

Steve smiles into the affection. He knows what he's got planned for their next date.

I don’t know if sims counts as a role playing game but to it does to me >:) , I’m gonna queue this one since it’s my birthday!! and I’m gonna be out, love coming back home to the plethora of Billy content <3

Hope you guys enjoy this short sweet one!

[demobats]

Day 3 of Harringrove Flip Reverse It 2023! 

Prompt: Caught in the act

Read on AO3 - 1083 words

The door swings open. In a split second, Billy remembers they forgot to lock the door. In a split second, Steve’s on his feet and standing half in front of him, shielding him from the intruder. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” Steve shrieks, and for a too long moment all Billy can really make sense of is the way his hair sticks out in all directions and his pretty brown eyes open wide, wide, wide. 

Then he zeros in on Max. 

She’s just standing there by the doorway seeming vaguely stunned, clutching the doorknob like her life depended on it. 

Billy thought they were home alone. Neil and Susan are away for the weekend and Max was supposed to have a sleepover tonight. Billy thought he could get away with having a sleepover of his own. In his own bedroom for once.

But life has never been kind to him. 

Max keeps standing there, looking at them both. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, deadpan. 

And Steve’s raising both palms in a placating motion, going all, “It’s not what it looks like.” 

Max huffs out, something between a deranged giggle and a whine. “Oh, no. I think this is exactly what it looks like, Steve. Let’s not play dumb.” 

“It’s… not .”

“Is too.” 

“It’s not .” 

“Is—Jesus, Billy .” 

Max looks past Steve and to Billy, searching for answers.

All Billy can do is groan and hide his face in palms. “Go away, Maxine.” 

“No. What do you think you’re doing?” 

“None of your business!” 

“It’s my business when you take my stuff, asshole!” 

Billy looks up at that. Max seems to have recovered from her initial shock and is now further inside the room, having pushed past a red cheeked Steve. 

Her nail polish bag is spread on top of Billy’s sheets, all those pretty colors inside their bottles laid out for Steve and Billy to choose from. 

Steve let it slip he had never painted his nails before. 

Billy had to do something about it. He just had to. 

It’s not like he has his own polish collection.

Billy glares at Max on principle. Even if he kind of did take her stuff without asking. 

“What are you even doing here?” he asks. “Weren’t you sleeping over at El’s?” 

“I am,” Max says. “I forgot the movies I rented. Hop drove me to pick them up. Now, will you please tell me what you think you’re doing?” 

Billy’s mind blanks on him. 

He’s—never living this down. Ever. Not fucking ever. 

He should get in his car and drive down to Mexico while he still has some dignity left. 

“It was my idea,” Steve blurts out of nowhere, and they both turn to face him, watch as he sputters and spatters, looking like he very much would like the earth to swallow him whole. 

It was absolutely not his idea. 

Billy gets the feeling Max knows it somehow. 

“Was it,” Max says, tone flat. 

Steve bobs his head up and down. His cheeks are so, so red. He didn’t blush that much the first time they kissed. “Um, yeah. Yeah, I wanted—I don't know. I thought it’d be fun. Sorry.” 

Max squints at him, considering. Then at Billy. If looks could kill…

But she doesn’t really complain anymore. All she does is roll her eyes in that annoying way of hers that makes Billy want to smack her upside the head. 

“Don’t break anything,” Max finally says. “And you’re buying me a new color. I want green.” 

“Fuck off, Maxine.” 

“Fine, I want green and purple.” 

“Max, I swear to god—” 

She flips him off. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Steve says, somewhat desperately. “We’ll get you new ones. Totally. As many as you want. It’s on me.” 

She squints. Again. But it’s good enough for her, it seems. 

“Great,” she says. 

“Great,” Steve echoes. 

She glances down at the nail polish one last time—at the mess that are Billy and Steve’s fingernails. Turns out, neither one of them is all that good at actually applying it. The paint is smeared all over their fingers. 

Billy’s wearing a light, soft blue. Steve chose a pink so annoyingly bright it almost hurts to look at, just to steal a startled laugh out of Billy. And truly, Billy didn’t even know Max owned pink nail polish. Probably a gift from Susan that had never seen the light of day before. 

Max sighs. “Bye, I guess.” 

And she goes to walk away. 

Billy speaks up, before she can get very far. “Max, don’t—”

And he stops. Doesn’t really know how to say what he wants to say. 

Max knows him, though. It’s a little scary, but she does. She’s a lot smarter than people give her credit for. “I won’t tell,” she says, soft. She means it. 

Billy nods jerkily. 

He can’t know for sure she knows Steve and him are dating, but sometimes he thinks she does. She’s caught them in compromising positions a couple times. She’s covered for him without him asking when he spends the night at Steve’s and doesn’t quite make it home on time. 

“Uh, have fun,” he says. “And fuckin’ knock next time.” 

She rolls her eyes again before walking away. 

The front door snaps shut and then Steve’s climbing half on his lap, burying his face on Billy’s neck. “She’s going to blackmail us,” he laments, voice grave, and rich, and sending vibrations all over Billy’s sternum. 

Billy sneaks a hand under Steve’s shirt, rubs circles on his back. “Nah,” he says. “I’ve got dirt on her too. Plus, I don’t know how to break it to ya but you already promised to buy her shit.” 

“See? I already fell for it.” 

Billy snorts, keeps rubbing circles on Steve’s back. 

He leans back on the bed until they’re both resting on the headboard and Billy’s heap of pillows, the chemical smell of nail polish enveloping both. The house is so quiet. Steve rests a hand on Billy’s stomach and the pretty pink against his milky skin makes Billy smile. 

“I take it nail polish isn’t your thing?” 

“Mm. I don’t know. You’re gonna have to convince me.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I could buy some for you, when I get Max’s.” 

Billy laughs, links his fingers with Steve’s, pink, and blue, and whole lot of love. He’ll never live it down if Max finds out Billy keeps his own nail polish. “I’d like that,” he says. It’s true.  

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE FLIP REVERSE IT DAY 6: Fake Dating Trope Subversion | Teen | 6.2k

DEVASTATED that this is late, but I'm happy with the final result, so it's better that I took my time instead of rushing it lol. Fun lil teacher Steve dynamic for the soul <3 Please enjoy!!

Read the Full Fic on AO3 Made for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Preview below!

Billy has always had his fair share of inappropriate crushes.

An older gentleman passing through from Los Angeles, random tourists at the beach with heavy accents and eyes that he’d have liked to pick apart. One client at the auto shop he used to work at whose AC relay he had to fix, and who returned time and time again to buy coolant. Crushes that he knew were never going to happen, and that he never cared enough about to try. There were hot guys all over San Diego, though few ever truly caught his eye.

Even fewer were a part of his daily routine.

“Max, get the hell up, or you’re walking!”

“Hold on, asshole!”

Billy didn’t mind driving her around, really, but it was only September, and he thought he would lose all of his hair before May. A month since Max hit high school was a month where the pseudo-dad charade was amped up to one-hundred, and he was in for one hell of a ride until she graduated.

It was coming up on one year since it had just been the two of them. Working two jobs since he was fifteen and hiding the money from his dad was the only reason Billy had been able to afford his own place at all, let alone be deemed fit to take over as Max’s legal guardian. He was twenty-four with a clean, safe apartment and steady income, and despite ceaseless arguing that they hadn’t quite gotten over yet, Max was on his side. She would have been no matter what.

“I’m leaving!”

“Jesus Christ, Billy—“

She was still brushing her teeth by the time he revved up the car, worked the engine a few times for dramatics, and grimaced when she spit into the grass. “You are so fucking gross, Max,” he said when she got into the passenger’s seat, idly spinning the wheel of her skateboard.

“Says the guy with cigarette breath.”

Billy laughed; he couldn’t argue there.

Between the radio and forgettable chatter, rides to school were far too loud for eight in the morning, but that was their thing. It was so different from how things used to be, they didn’t care. They liked it that way. Just an obnoxious guy and his more obnoxious step-sister having the time of their lives before something went wrong again, but that would be later’s problem.

Right now, Billy’s problem was pulling up to Sunny Oaks High School without giving himself away by sticking around so Mister Harrington, Max’s biology teacher, could wave hello. It happened once on the first Thursday—maybe he’d recognized Billy from the tour—and the flip in Billy’s stomach was familiar and far too strong. Mister Harrington was one handsome fellow indeed: tall and lean with the most gorgeous brown hair Billy had ever seen. It made his heart race and his face heat up, but that was something he just couldn’t fucking afford, so he got into the habit of letting his tires screech before the door even closed all the way.

It was a crush. One of those based purely on appearances, because he had yet to speak to Mister Harrington. He only heard from Max how much fun he was, that he explained things well and never gave pop quizzes. Apparently he was funny too, which definitely didn’t add to Billy’s narrow image of him in the slightest. Billy didn’t think about him telling some stupid taxonomy joke and laughing while the class watched with confused frowns, or chuckling to himself while grading papers when he came across a particularly wrong answer.

Billy would be over it by the next week.

Okay, by the next month.

Okay, after parent-teacher conferences, because then he would actually speak to Mister Harrington and learn of all the reasons why he was unattractive.

It should have been easy to wait outside the classroom by himself, reading a book to avoid the real parents with spouses and other kids and respectable jobs. It should have been easy to smile, introduce himself, shake a hand with the same charm he’d used since puberty started working in his favor, but Mister Harrington—damn him—made it so much harder. Up close, Billy noticed the moles dotting his cheek and chin and neck and arms—and, god, it was impossible.

Continue Reading on AO3

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Harringrove Flip Reverse It - Stargazing

(Read it on AO3: here)

Stargazing | Bittersweet | Angst | Memories | Reminiscing

Words: 1,004

--=--

“I dunno, Harrington,” Billy huffed from beside him, where Steve sprawled on his back on the floor. He can practically still hear the rumbling of their car engines, long since switched off, can practically taste the hints of Billy’s exhaustion and intoxication, the things that had slurred his speech around the edges, in the tang of alcohol lingering on his own tongue. “Think this is still pretty stupid.”

“Awh, come on, Billy,” he’d pouted. “It’s fun.”

Billy’s non-committal hum, as always, had made him roll his eyes. It didn’t matter, then, that Steve secretly loved that sound; it always meant that Billy was trying to humour him. The guy was shit at it, sure, but he didn’t just tell Steve to shut up or straight up plant him on his ass when he was talking pure nonsense. At least, he didn’t all the time.

The quirk of his smile is as amused as it is bone-deep exhausted.

He had glanced at Billy then, all blonde curls fanning out on the gravel around his head, haloing in gold that shone with strands of silver in the glow of the starlight. The blue eyes that turned to meet his own were light and teasing in a way that made his breath catch, every time. Steve’d had to turn away at that, throat working as he looked back to the stars like they could’ve held the answer to this overwhelming warmth in his chest.

“Well, if this isn’t good enough for his highness, the new King of Hawkins High, then maybe–”

“You’d better finish that with a suggestion that we do something more exciting–” Steve had been able to practically hear the waggling of the guys eyebrows, almost still could, at that. Who’d have known what a dork Hargrove was? “--or else I’ll reconsider this truce we have going here.”

“You’d call this a truce?” Steve had laughed. 

Billy, it turned out, had been pretty damn funny when not being a total dick; and maybe he’d never been a total dick but it was hard for Steve to admit it, then, when this was still new and fragile, and it felt like the other Billy – who paraded around at school – could bring it all crashing down. Steve can now say that he knows what a dick he was to cling to the ability to blame this on Billy rather than himself – again. 

“Dude,” he’d continued, “I just had my hand down your ridiculously tight jeans yesterday. I think that’s more than a truce.”

“So what’s that make it then, Harrington? Allies with benefits?”

“Quit calling me that and maybe that’ll make us boyfriends,” he’d said without a thought, eyes still flickering over the stars above them.

Billy’s silence had been the thing that made him realise he’d said that out loud rather than in his head. Shit. Even thinking about it now makes his face flame in that patchy flush that Billy would always watch with more wonder than Steve thought it deserved. That had not been something meant to come out of his mouth – maybe that thought would have been fine as part of his private rants to himself in the emptiness of his own home, but never to the guy himself.

“Maybe it would,” Billy agreed before Steve had let his thoughts spiral too badly. “Not that I can see why you’d want it to be.”

Steve’s hand twitches in the nothing between them, fingers digging into the gravel he feels so acutely pressing into his back.

“You’re surprisingly sweet. And funny. And you actually care for Max even if you pretend you don’t. And have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. And so smart, I didn’t think it was possible to be so fit and still be a secret nerd but somehow you manage it.”

Face burning bright enough to rival all the stars above them, Steve had taken a trembling breath.

“Plus, I’ve been calling you Billy for months now. I’ve been there for a while.”

Silence. Nothing but the breeze in the trees around them, cooling the heat of Steve’s face. The water of the quarry laps silently at the edges of its shore; the moon observed them with lips gently sealed. Steve’s breath trembles again.

Finally, Billy had hummed. That time, it wasn’t to dismiss Steve’s pitiful attempts at defending stargazing – it was thoughtful, accepting.

“You gonna grab us another beer then, Steve?”

When Steve turns his head, all he is greeted with is silence and a stretching expanse of stone and trees. Gravel scratches at his face, imbedding itself into his skin. No matter how many times he comes here, staring up at the sky like it might have the answers to that aching maw within him, it never does. The stars and moon just sit there, staring down at him as impassively as ever. Their lips tightly sealed.

Now that he’s gone, stargazing brings no comfort or peace. Those flickering lights just serve as a reminder of the warmth that the darkness had swallowed whole, the flame extinguished by grief.

Stones crunch underfoot as he pushes himself to his feet, forces himself over to the door of his car. Just his car. Billy’s used to sit in the Hargrove-Mayfield’s driveway until Neil finally sold it, scrapped it, whatever he decided to do. It’s only his here, now. 

The beers are lukewarm in his hands, glass dull in the low light. When Steve sits back down in his spot, he places one down beside him, the base digging a divot into the loose ground to hold it upright. If Steve closes his eyes he can almost imagine familiar hands curled around the neck of it, an echo of a voice bitching about how the drinks always warmed in the late hours they sat around here. 

Steve uncaps his and throws back another swig, eyes resolutely staring to the nothing above him rather than the nothing by his side.

“Think you were right, Billy,” he murmurs to no one. “Stargazing’s pretty stupid.”

[kaizenkhaos]

Harringrove Flip-Reverse It Challenge ^^

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It's finally here and I can unleash these fics into the world, woo hoo! Thanks so much to @harringrove-flip-reverse-it for the wonderful prompts for this week. Here's my fic for Monday. I also have fics planned for Wednesday, Friday and Sunday :D

CW: sexual themes ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Monday 27th March SFW: School Project

"How much longer do I need to carry him for Harrington?!"

It shouldn't be funny. It really shouldn't, and he knew that he would get into so much shit for finding it so. But there was something about the scene which made Steve wish he had a camera on him. Maybe it was the lumbering around as if he'd just gotten off horseback. Maybe it was the cursing and the occasional grunts of disapproval. Maybe it was how he looked overall. Maybe it was all of the above. But what he'd have given to have a polaroid of this moment to smirk at for years to come. To smile at in times where smiling seemed hard to do. Glancing over his shoulder, Steve smirked at an increasingly pissed off Hargrove marching a short distance behind him. White flour bag strapped to his chest by a thick harness and the most grumpiest look on his face that Steve had seen in a while.

It was day 2 of their school project for Mrs Glass' class and it seemed like already Hargrove wanted to shift full parental responsibilities over to him. Not that that was gonna happen. They'd already agreed Monday, Wednesday and Fridays were his days and Hargrove would have him Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Sundays were a free for all at the moment, over which neither could agree on. So today was Hargrove's turn to carry the baby and attend to its imaginary needs. Saying that, the smug look on Steve's face, the glint in his eyes, were probably another cause for Hargrove's foul mood. Because as soon as the teens had been paired up in class, they'd been making things difficult for each other. For example, he'd nearly dropped the baby twice yesterday. Admittedly, yeah one was his own fault but the other had been deliberate sabotage by Hargrove who'd let go way too early and left him hitting the deck rather than the baby. Visions of white powder and a disapproving tut and 'F' from the teacher had played in slow motion as he'd just managed to catch him, to sniggers from above. Bastard. Clearly didn't give a shit about their grade. At least that's what Steve thought. The guy might not give a shit about detention either for messing around but Steve wanted to actually get something higher than a C at some point this year. Wanted to bring home a card which didn't go straight in the trash. He was sick of seeing that look on his dad's face when he merely glanced at the card and then either tore it up or put in straight in the kitchen bin. As if that's what he thought that's what it was worth. Not the paper the ink had been scribbled on.

"Come on man, it's just around the block," he grinned, motioning to the corner with his head and then continuing down the street casually. Hand in one pocket, cigarette in the other. Still keeping distance between him and Hargrove and the "baby". He even made sure the wind wasn't blowing in their direction. Hargrove though. He'd nearly set fire to the baby yesterday when lighting up. Just shrugged and put the baby on the table like the bag of flour it was. "Shouldn't av gotten the baby so close Harrington. Irresponsible parenting man," was the response he'd gotten after shouting. Irresponsible parenting geez…like he wasn't familiar with that concept. And who'd been the one putting fire near paper. Jesus.

Now finally at his, Steve dug the key out of his pocket, opening the door and smirking as Hargrove strode quickly through it as if he didn't want to be seen dead the way he was. "After you ma'am."

A hefty swipe and Steve was left sans cigarette, staring at Hargrove as he barged past and beelined straight for the kitchen. Not even stopping to take off his shoes or anything, and the cigarette was still lit. Great.

"Hey no smoking in here! Or around the baby! Jesus…." Banging the door shut in frustration, Steve quickly slipped off his Nikes, hurrying through to the kitchen and leaning on the doorframe. Expecting carnage. If Hargrove had done something stupid like stubbed a hole in the baby or ditched him on the counter or something, it was gonna be his turn to be pissed. It was bad enough that he had to work with him with the first place. Without even thinking about the complications their teaming up was causing.

Like seeing Hargrove sat there in his kitchen the way he was was doing things to him that it really, really shouldn't have been. Apparently for now, Hargrove had decided to play nicely. A window had already been thrown wide open and the now extinguished cigarette was behind his ear. Not a spot on the baby to be seen. Sat casually on one of the chairs, he'd pulled it out so he could casually drape himself over it, carefree with the baby now on his lap. Derpy marker drawn face staring directly at Steve. Their eyes met for a moment before Hargrove's headed south and then shot back up, a great grin where a smirk had been as he leaned further back. Studying Steve with amusement before looking around. Then he spotted it and Steve looked away as a full throttle laugh blow out of Hargrove, who after grabbing the baby, stood up and started to make his way to something on the floor. A Moses basket.

"Holy shit Harrington." Hargrove's snorts continued as he now started to scan the room as if looking for more baby paraphernalia. "Something you're not telling me pretty boy?" "Shut up man. Mom brought it down from the attic so it would look like like I was taking something seriously for once in front of my dad." A partial lie. The first part but not the second. His mom had been too preoccupied with packing last night to even notice the flour baby or acknowledge her son. His dad however had at first making the same assumption as Hargrove seemed to have done. That there was a real baby out there with a piece of paper that had Steve Harrington's name on it. But when he'd finally noticed the school project, he'd just muttered something about his son finally taking something seriously for once and then had walked out to sort the car.

"So defensive man. Maybe you do need this more than me." A smirk, but Hargrove only tapped the cigarette. Not making any attempt to hand it back over. Not that Steve really cared at all. The other teen loved to try and get under his skin, in any way he could. But he had plenty more where that came from. So what was one? He was soon driven to finding another though, heading back out into the hallway to go and find his cigarettes. Hargrove's eyes burning on his back. Snatching up his jacket, he rooted through all of the pockets to find his pack and then paused. He didn't even have to turn around to know Hargrove was now stood right behind him. He'd not even heard the guy coming.

"Relax Harrington," Hargrove chuckled as Steve slowly turned around, an unimpressed look on his face. Seriously did this guy not know personal place? He was stood way too close for Steve's liking. "Baby's down for now. Nice and cosy." That shit eating grin just drew an eye roll from Steve who managed to nudge his way out with his shoulder and made his way back to the kitchen. Like hell he trusted Hargrove's word. He'd probably stuff him in the sink or something. But on looking in from the door, he saw that nope. Hargrove had actually proved him wrong and wasn't actually just yanking his chain. The baby was safe and sound in the Mose blanket. Little face peering out from the blanket and Hargrove's denim jacket, which somehow Steve hadn't even noticed the other had taken off. "You gonna have to trust me man. Can't be watching me all the darn time."

Spinning on his heel, Steve was met with Hargrove being way closer than he had been before, causing him to brush up against him in a manner he'd tried to avoid. Had he not been so darn fixated on making sure the other teen had done what he'd said he had, he wouldn't be in this mess. Now trapped up against the doorframe with nowhere to go. "Feels like you could do with relaxing in more ways than one." "Bite me." That shit eating grin, those narrowed eyes as one hand came over his head. It was so hard to not stare at him. Not notice that his shirt was done down like it always was. Showing off his chest in a way Steve had really tried his hardest to not stare at. Darn it was hard and well, he could feel the effects it had had despite his best not to. Instead though, he concentrated on staring back, fire in his eyes as the other finally chuckled and shook his head. Lips now brushing against Steve's ear. "Don't tempt me." He couldn't breathe. It was like the world shrank to a pinpoint and then he was gone. A whole chasm between them as Hargrove studied him, practically pushing himself up against the door so Steve could keep himself upright. Shit. The vein in his neck was pulsing, as if it was waiting to be bitten. To be torn into, and the look that crossed Hargrove's face suggested that maybe he was thinking the same thing. The other teen's stare draping over his neck before looking downwards. Shit, shit, shit. He couldn't move his leg fast enough, the snigger telling him he'd been seen. Not like Hargrove couldn't have felt him earlier

Don't tempt him….what the hell…. Fucking little…that look now saying that Steve should be more careful with his words. His own look swirling in warning and something else which he didn't want to be seen. Too late. Hargrove had taken the look and twisted it, using it as a challenge. Almost looking as if he was gonna take it as an invite. But he didn't. Just leaned against the fridge and watched him. Well Steve wasn't in a submissive mood or in the mood for this bullshit. Either Hargrove's or his own. What the hell was going on with him today? "Hormones giving you hell huh?" It was a slight cackle, a tone which Steve didn't appreciate as the other teen continued to stare him down. But it was more hunger than anything that Steve now saw. His own eyes now darting across the heated blues which were spearing him. Making him feel like he was still pinned against the door frame. Steve didn't really know where this was going but as Hargrove just stood there. His look saying nothing more than, well King Steve. Your move. -----------------------NFSW Incoming in 3, 2, 1 ;)-------------------

Bang

The door slammed against the wall, echoing into the hall as a whirlwind of limbs and a back up against it announced the arrival of the two horny teens. Steve briefly pinned against it, fierce lips tugged at Hargrove's before he was pushed into his room. Hands hastily grabbing at fabric and hair as they both clumsily made their way to his bed. It seemed that after many shower "incidents" and much hair pulling, things had finally come to a head. That they were finally doing something about the testarone (sp) filled rivalry which had ruled their days. Just probably not in the way that most people would have expected or wanted. But fuck them. Who else needed to know?

If anything, it was Mrs Glass' fault for putting them together in the first place.

Falling onto the bed, shirts were soon on the floor. Pants being worked down with as much haste as their kissing. Their hands fondling anywhere they could reach. So much time wasted when they could have just got on with it, or maybe it hadn't been. Maybe the tension had been required for them to get to this point. Would either of them made a move otherwise? In this town? Yeah right. It was behind closed doors where they were safe. Not at school, not in the car park. Not even up at the quarry. Here. With his parents gone and no Hargrove-Mayfields about to walk in on them either.

"Top drawer, on the right." No arguments for a chance. Just the other teen pushing off him, finally shedding his jeans and chucking them onto the pile of their clothes which had been rapidly growing. Leaving Steve just in his boxers and Hargrove in his chain. Cigarette tossed onto the desk as he started to rummage through the drawer.

"Lube?" "Should be same drawer."

A pause and then a smirk as Hargrove threw him a knowing look over his shoulder and a bit of cheekiness in there. "All out Harrington." There were a couple of packets now in the other's hand. His ring catching the light as he moved slowly back over to the bed. Widening grin as he saw Steve's look. The way he now stared at him without hiding but a tiny bit of shame. He'd been certain that he still had some packets left but maybe he'd thrown them for being out of date or somethin'. "'Tis fine. I got a better idea anyway." Knees either side of Steve's waist, the teen leaned over him. It didn't matter he was the shorter, he still seemed to tower over him. Hands on the wall and pushing himself up as if he was about to start to do press ups on him. Staring down with eyes that caught his own and made him swallow hard. The look from his dreams. Cos yeah, he'd dreamt about something like this. Maybe even jerked himself off to it. It had made him feel ashamed but the feeling it had given him had been worth it. And now, being here, having him actually on his bed….. It was like he was dreaming all over again. He didn't even realise how zoned out and lost thinking about his fantasy he'd been until a surprisingly gentle hand reached under his chin and tilted it up. Eyes now staring as if into his very soul. "You didn't hear a word I just said did ya?" A shake of his head and a hearty small laugh from Hargrove, who shook his head in turn. Flicking blonde hair over his shoulder before turning his attention back onto Steve. Amused as all hell but there was a brightness to his eyes which hadn't been there before. "Wanna help me out with the lack of lube issue Harrington?"

Now it was Steve's turn to chuckle, sucking in his bottom lip. Not sure really how to respond. Put it this way, it wasn't a no. It was just the fact he couldn't get over how ridiculous this all was. They were supposed to be downstairs doing a dumb assignment, writing in the journal that they were meant to. Keep. Not up in his bedroom about to do each other. It was crazy, it was madness and the more he thought about it, the more he thought this may have been one of the dumbest things he'd ever done. He knew it was his dick talking, it had to be, but bizarrely, this also felt right. "I' ain't getting' on my knees for you." "Ain't expecting you to. Though it'll just make it harder for you man." Harder? Oh the connotations of that and boy was Steve's mind in the gutter. Smiling up at the other, he merely watched as Hargrove started to move towards him, itching his backend up bit by bit until he was practically sat in Steve's chest. Making him come face to face with the massive dick which he'd tried to always divert his eyes from when they'd showered together. When they'd been dressing in the changing rooms and Steve had had to stare ahead to stop himself from even snatching a glance. He'd already seen that Hargrove went commando. The lack of brief or boxers in his clothes pile when they did gym and basketball had told that story. But he'd not known if it had been all the time or not. Now he figured that it probably was the first. And apparently he also used cologne….down there. Because it felt musky but not in the way he had imagined it, or smelt on his own hands after he'd finished giving himself one. Who the hell….never mind. Hargrove did. That was the quick answer to that one. Hopefully his dick wouldn't taste bad then. He didn't imagine that he actually used it on his dick …did he?

"Liking the view down there?" An eye roll and then his eyes glanced upwards. Amusement of course was what he saw but he realised that whilst he'd been musing about things, Hargrove hadn't taken his eyes off of him. He'd been watching and he wondered if now he was about to get down to business, actually do this for the first time in a while, if he would continue to watch. Only one way to find out. His tongue flickered across his lips before he raised his head a little to meet soft skin. Running his tongue and down before drawing his tongue out to lap slowly. Feeling the heat on his cheeks and the gaze down on him as he heard a groan above him and a slight shiver, before Hargrove steeled himself again and tilted his head up a little.

"That's it pretty boy."

There'd been a time when those words would have bristled. Caused his skin to prickle in a way that said fight. But now it was prickling through anticipation, as he placed his tongue back on and started to work it. He needed to be all wet after all but why make it a quick job. Hargrove seemed to like it slow, given his reaction and were they really in any hurry? Depended how impatient Hargrove was he guessed. Maybe the teen wouldn't appreciate it. But as before, he could only try and find out.

[greyghoulclub]

Harringrove flip it reverse it prompt 4 - angst becomes fluff

written for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46125223

Billy antis DNI

It had started with a slight brush of Steve’s hand against Billy’s side. Steve didn’t think much about it but Billy had made a weird noise. It was somewhere between a huff and a giggle. A giggle? Steve had never heard Billy giggle before. A harsh guffaw sure, but a giggle? Steve wanted to make Billy make that sound again. 

“Stevie, are we out of peanut butter?” Billy’s question brought Steve back into the present. Billy was standing at the counter with the empty jar of Skippy that Steve forgot to throw out. 

“Uh, I think we have some crunchy in the pantry,” Steve knew that crunchy peanut butter was neither of their favourites but his mom insisted on buying it. 

“Think I’ll pass…” Billy muttered. Steve laughed and brushed past Billy again on his way out of the kitchen, again, that huff-giggle noise. Steve realised two things, one, Billy had a cute giggle, and two, Billy was ticklish. This is gonna be fun, Steve thought. 

****

For the next couple of days, Steve tried to get Billy comfortable enough that he wouldn’t notice Steve starting to tickle him. It would be easier to try to hold on to a greased pig at times. Billy seemed to have a sixth sense when Steve was trying to tickle him. He’d say he needed to go to the bathroom or that he wanted another beer. Steve was sure that Billy knew something was up. 

The only time Steve semi-successfully managed to tickle Billy was when they were both watching some VHS tapes that Steve had brought home from work, plus some butter popcorn that Steve insisted tasted better when you threw some Hersey’s kisses into. “Salty and sweet,” he had said. 

Billy was thoroughly zoned out to Blade Runner, mindlessly nibbling on the edge of one of his fingernails. He wasn’t paying any attention to Steve slowly snaking his hand towards the back of his neck. Until Billy saw what he was doing, and thought he was putting his arm around him. Steve didn’t mind but it wasn’t what he was going for. Steve ended Blade Runner with a dead arm. 

“Why are you trying to tickle me?” Billy sent a pointed look at the hand wavering in the air. Steve dropped the hand immediately and tried to pretend that he wasn’t. Steve was a terrible liar. 

“Ok look, I’ve heard you, like, giggle when you get tickled and I really liked it so I was wanting to tickle you so you’d giggle again,” Steve somehow managed to get that all out in one breath so as to not psych himself out by saying it. Billy was staring at Steve like he had two heads, Steve just wanted to explode on the spot.  

“You want to tickle me? Seriously?” Billy was looking at Steve like he had two heads. 

“Yeah,” as soon as the word left his mouth, Billy was on top of him, a shark-like grin on his face.

“Shouldn’t have said that pretty boy,” and then it was a full blown tickle war, Billy got his sides, neck, and Steve couldn’t breathe laughing. He didn’t know how Billy was getting him so riled up so quickly but he tried to wriggle himself away. He managed to wedge an arm between himself and Billy, and flipped themselves over on the couch. Steve immediately went for Billy’s ribs because he knew Billy was ticklish there. 

“No! Steve stop!,” Billy gasped between fits of giggles, his chest heaved and his face was red, and Steve loved hearing him make those giggles. “I, I hate that y-you’ve found out I’m tick-ticklish there.”

Steve kept going, and also got tickled back by Billy. Steve had this spot on the back of his neck that Billy kept going for, Steve kept trying to get his shoulders up to spot Billy from getting there. The two boys rolled onto the floor, nearly giving themselves a lobotomy via a coffee table, they were both breathing heavily. If someone else walked in at this moment they would think that something very different was going on here. 

“Oh my god Steve don’t touch me right now, I think I might blow some chunks if I laugh anymore,” Billy wheezed from his position on the floor. 

“Is a kiss ok then?”

“Always is pretty boy.”

[harringrove-flip-reverse-it]

Welcome to Harringrove Flip Reverse It!

Are you the sort of person who likes to be nifty with your fan creations? Do you enjoy subverting prompts? Does the thought of a challenge fill you with glee!

This is the event for you!

Harringrove Flip Reverse It is an event that takes place during the last week of March (27th March - 2nd April). It's very easy (and fun) to play!

Every day during that week, you'll be given five prompts: fluff, angst, nsfw, sfw and trope subversion. Sounds simple? Well, it is... but there's a catch!

For each prompt you decide to fill, you'll be expected to Flip Reverse It! In other words, you must make your fluff prompts angsty, and your angst prompts fluffy. Your nsfw prompts should be safe for work, and as for your sfw prompts... enough said ;)

The trope subversion prompts will give you a very common, possibly even overused prompt... and it's your job to subvert it, in any way you want. Interpret the prompt any way you like, except the traditional one.

You can do as many or as few prompts as you like, no sign-up required! Submit your prompt fill to have it reblogged here.

For more details on the prompt categories, read on...

Fluff:  Take the traditional tooth-rotting fluff… and make it angsty! We’re talking days at the beach that end in disaster, hot chocolate with marshmallows that turn out to be poisoned, sweet little moments that break our goddamn hearts.

Angst:  It looks like it should hurt, but it doesn’t! These prompts may seem dark and whumpy, but they should fill the heart with joy and delight, no angst allowed!

NSFW:   These prompts may look filthy, but in fact they could be read by the most innocent of angels with nary a blush!

SFW:  By contrast… somehow these gentle ideas have become sullied by porn, and there’s no turning back!

Trope Subversion:  These tropes may be overused, but it’s your job to interpret them in a non-traditional way. Maybe they share a bed, but not with each other! Maybe their first kiss was with someone else! It can be anything EXCEPT the usual way of interpreting the prompt.

Interested in taking part? Reblog this post, check out all the nitty gritty details and then get working on some prompts!

[lyneira]

♡ *slams a hand on the wall* "I LOVE YOU" ♡

-> how the genshin men would react when you confess by "kabedon"-ing them

lyneira's 1.2k milestone event

Plays the uno reverse card

Alhaitham, Childe, Dainsleif, Itto

They'd raise an eyebrow and smirk, because 1) he's glad that his feelings for you are mutual and 2) because of your audacity to put him in such a place.

So, he'll flip you over and kabedon you, caging you under both of his arms. If anyone's gonna be the dominant one in the relationship, it's gonna be him. Needless to say, he loves you back.

He'll laugh

Ayato, Baizhu, Heizou, Kaeya, Cyno, Venti

No, he's not laughing to be mean or because he finds your confession hilarious. He chuckles because he finds your display of love unbearably cute. This bold attempt to catch him off guard was something he found so endearing. So he'll rest his hand on your cheek and stare deep into your eyes, "come on then, kiss me already", he smiles. And if you don't kiss him within that second, he'll be the one to kiss you immediately, whispering, "I love you too, y/n"

"Kya.!!" >///<

Gorou, Thoma

They'll be just like the heroine in your typical shoujo anime when you kabedon them and confess, blushing like crazy with "doki doki" symbols flying in the air. They're ecstatic and so relieved that you share the same feelings they have for you, and at the same time, this assertive gesture has them head over heels and leaves them craving for more.

Tries to cover their blush

Diluc, Scaramouche, Xiao

I see them reacting like a tsundere, in a sort of "W-What are you doing..?!", brows furrowed and trying to cover their flushed cheeks type of way. Kind of like Tamaki here

Nonetheless, he'd still confess his own love for you as well.

"Well...I love you too..."

Now y'all can "kiss kiss~ fall in love~! 🌸💞" LOL gosh I love ohshc

Smiles :)

Zhongli, Kazuha, Tighnari, Albedo, Kaveh

They'll smile tenderly, appreciating and adoring your passionate gesture of affection and will make sure you know it. He'll cup your face in his hands and say that he loves you back and will leave a deep kiss on your lips. He'll reveal his own passion for you through the multitude of kisses he'll give you if you don't stop there, hehe

a/n: I feel like a lot of these sounded similar to each other (even in the twst kabedon post too). I was kinda running out of ideas, but hey at least I'm still having fun :')

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[chrisbitchtree]

The Laws of Attraction

My fill for Day 1 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Prompt - SFW - School Project

2k - Rated E

***

“How’s that for chemistry, Harrington?” Billy asked, on the edge of a moan. Steve laughed, grasping Billy tighter and stroking faster, eliciting another deep moan from the blonde. “Too bad we can’t write about this for our paper. I’m sure we’d get an A+.”

***

It had all started when Steve had missed his Intro to Human Sexuality class three weeks before. Steve never gets sick. It’s his thing, and he’s weirdly proud of it. Healthy as a horse, with an immune system so strong that the pediatrician would joke that Steve should be studied by science every time he went in for a checkup. Steve would laugh long after the joke got old so he could always be sure the doctor would offer him his favourite sucker, a blue one, at the end of the appointment, after his reflexes were checked and the ice-cold stethoscope was pressed to his chest.

Being so healthy meant that Steve had to get really good at faking colds and flues so he could stay home and eat soup and crackers and watch either game shows, soap operas, or 80s sitcom reruns, depending on which nanny his parents had employed at the time.

Once Steve had started high school and his parents felt that he was past the point of needing a nanny to care for him while they were away and could always reach him on his cellphone if they needed to anyway, he was able to drop the sick act and just ditch school instead. Nobody was going to go to the trouble of tracking down his parents to bother them with the news that their son wasn’t in class that day.

It had gotten even easier once Steve had gone away to college. He would pick and choose what classes he felt like attending and didn’t need to answer to anyone as long as he kept his grades up.

But of course, the first time in his entire life that Steve was too sick to go to school, struck down by food poisoning from some questionable Chinese leftovers he’d found in the mini fridge he kept next to his dorm room bed and used like a fridge, unable to do anything except either puke or lay on the floor next to the toilet waiting to puke again, shivering, and shaking and wishing he was dead, refusing when his floormates tried to offer help. He just had to puke it out.

Finally, at about 8pm, he was feeling slightly better and like the illness had finally run its course. He dragged himself back to bed and curled up in a ball, picking up his phone from where he’d tossed it in the sheets when he’d run for the bathroom and checking his missed notifications.

He had a couple texts from Robin, updating him on all the Hawkins High gossip he was missing out on, and a whole string of them from Dustin that had gotten increasingly frantic as the day had gone on, but the ones that stood out were from Nancy, who of course had ended up at the same school as him, even sharing some of his classes. They’d talked on occasion since breaking up in the fall of their senior year, but it was usually only if they had something important to tell each other so he clicked on hers first.

Nancy – 11:12am: Steve, are you skipping health class again? I heard what Ms. Johnson said to you the other day about your attendance!

Nancy – 11:22am: Partners are being assigned for the huge project in Human Sexuality today. If you don’t get here soon, you might be stuck with Billy. He’s not here today either.

Nancy – 12:37pm: I’m sorry, Steve, you’re going to have to work with Billy. Your topic is chemistry and attraction.

Steve groaned. Just his luck, the one time he’s actually sick, something like this actually happens. He’d done his best to avoid Hargrove since their big fight at the Byers’ the fall of their senior year of high school, as much as you can avoid someone in a town as small as Hawkins, where there was one high school with one basketball team that they both played on.

He’d counted down the days until he was free and could make a fresh start, only to find out that it wouldn’t just be Nancy at his new school, Billy Hargrove would be there too. And then the first day of Human Sexuality, there were both Billy and Nancy, on opposite sides of the front row.

Steve does his best to pretend that Billy’s not there, tamping down an attraction that’s been there since the moment he laid eyes on the other boy. Billy hadn’t confirmed nor denied his sexual preferences since he’d come crashing into Hawkins with his stepmom and stepsister, Max, to be closer to Max’s grandparents after Billy’s dad had died that summer, but if the rumours were true, Billy happily slept with anything on two legs.

Steve doesn’t judge, has no room to, considering how many girls he’s slept with. But that was before Nancy. Since his time with her, he’s been a relationship guy, someone who wants heavy commitment, and Billy just doesn’t seem like that type of guy, so Steve pushes his feelings down, ignoring them in favour of finding someone he could have a relationship with.

 Now though, Steve had no choice but to spend time with Billy. A lot of it, considering that the project was worth half their grade. And of course, of all the possible topics, they got chemistry.

***

For the first few weeks that they met with each other to work on the project, they kept their conversations strictly school related, at Steve’s behest, both because Steve didn’t want to end up down a road he wasn’t prepared for with Billy, and because success in academics didn’t come easily to Steve like it did to Billy. Steve needed a good grade in this class, so he had to stay focused and work hard.

They divvied up the research, Billy focusing on attraction while Steve worked on compatibility. It was coming along good until they met to discuss their findings and work on their thesis topic. They were in Steve’s dorm room, Steve at his desk, and Billy sprawled out on Steve’s bed.

He had his textbook open and upside down across his stomach and his arms crossed behind his head. His white t-shirt was riding up, exposing a strip of flesh between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, and Steve wanted to pull the shirt up, expose him, lick and kiss and nip his way up to Billy’s mouth, wanted to pull the backwards baseball cap off his head and sink his hands into Billy’s curls.

“Hey, Harrington, have you ever thought about whether we have chemistry?” Billy asked. For all his usual bravado, the question came out of his mouth quietly, as if he wasn’t even sure if he wanted Steve to hear him ask it.

Steve looks up, meeting his eye, and he’s giving Steve a look that’s equal parts considering and wanting, his eyes dark. They travel down the length of Steve’s body and back up again, and Steve can’t remember the last time he felt so seen, so wanted.

“What if I have?” he replies, trying for breezy, and failing miserably. He’s way too into this, and it’s showing all over his face.

“Come over here and tell me what you’ve thought about,” Billy says, sitting up and patting the bed beside him.

Steve closes his laptop and takes the few steps to his small bed. He sits next to Billy, their bodies pressed together from head to toe. Steve rubs his knees nervously, trying to wipe some of the sweat off as he psyches himself up to kiss Billy.

He doesn’t have a chance to before Billy turns to him, slipping a hand into the back of Steve’s hair and cupping the back of his skull. Billy pulls him in for a kiss that’s surprisingly tender, as deep and searching as it is.

They stay like that for a long time, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues, getting familiar with each other in a way Steve’s only previously dreamed of. Finally, they pull back to catch their breath, and Billy gives him a dopey grin before leaning in to nip and suck at Steve’s earlobe. He lets out a loud moan at the contact, too turned on to be embarrassed by the sound.

“Like that, don’t you, pretty boy?” Billy asks, rhetorically, before returning to the task.

Unsure of what to do, Steve slides his hands up under Billy’s t-shirt, exploring the planes of his stomach and the pecs that were the driving force behind most of his senior year jerk off fantasies. And god, they feel just as good as he thought they would, soft and pillowy, but firm at the exact same time. He’s in heaven.

“Can I give you a hand, Harrington?” Billy asks, hand hovering over the button on Steve’s jeans.

“Yes, yeah. Can I, you, uh,” Steve replies, barely able to get the words out, motioning gracelessly at Billy’s own jeans, and Billy undoes the button on Steve’s jeans and unzips his fly. Steve stands and pulls his jeans and boxers down to his knees as Billy undoes his own pants and pulls them down.

Billy pulls him back into a kiss for a minute before pulling away again.

“You got lube in here?” he asks, even as he leans over and pulls a bottle out of Steve’s bedside table drawer. He squirts some on his own and doles out some to Steve before dropping it into the sheets.

They grasp each other in their slicked up hands, and holy shit, Steve’s not going to ask long. It feels too amazing to finally have Billy’s hands on him. If the little whimpers and gasps coming out of Billy’s mouth are anything to go by, he’s not going to last long either.

They stroke each other at a fast pace as Steve tries to see how many hickeys, he can give Billy before they both cum. Three’s the magic number, then Billy’s bucking into Steve’s grasp, and Steve’s doing the same for him, then they’re coming all over each other’s hands and stomachs, gasping into each other’s mouths as they come down from their shared high.

***

They’re laying in bed after, sweaty and panting, Billy starfished out over Steve’s body, with his boxers pulled up but his jeans kicked off onto the floor, a heavy, reassuring weight. When Steve used to fantasize about this moment, he always pictured Billy to be the kind of guy that would hook up and run, but if anything, he seems to be settling in, using Steve’s chest like a pillow, and twining their legs together. It’s exactly what Steve would have asked for if he could decide how this would go. It’s nice, it’s sweet, and Steve could get used to it.

“So, Harrington,” Billy says, his voice quiet but rough, probably from how deep he took Steve’s cock into his mouth. “Do you think we should add this to the paper? Maybe we’ll get extra credit for doing hands on research.”

Steve snorts, swatting him. “As much as I could use the extra points, I think I want to keep this all to myself.”

[kiraixi]

Secret GirlBoyfriend?

Wednesday 29th March ✩ NSFW:  “Caught in the Act” (Flip-Reverse) @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

ao3

“Okay, bye Steve!” 

Steve looks skeptical, “Are you sure Dustin? I don’t want any calls from the neighbours.” 

He puts on a slight frown, this plan needs to work. 

“We’re nearly fourteen, dude. A couple hours alone won’t kill us”

Steve mutters back, “Of course you’d say that.” Dustin grins,

“I’ll be two hours max.” He walks backwards glaring, “So don’t do anything stupid okay?”

Dustin salutes him off, “Aye captain!”

As soon the car starts, he dashes into the living room.

“He’s gone, we’re free to search!”

The party gets up. Well, minus the girls.

Max has been huffy since morning and El seems too engrossed in the movie to care.

Whatever, they don’t care as much as he does. But Dustin is Steve’s right hand man, said he was cool and everything!

This one secret he’s kept to his chest just means that Dustin needs to sleuth around and find out. Steve would never keep something from his best friend, right?

For the past two months Steve Harrington has been going steady with a secret girlfriend. He’s been so tight-lipped about it that the only hint Dustins’ been able to wrangle out of is that the lady’s a blonde.

He found bleached hairs in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. Only he has the privilege of a shotgun, so of course those strands must belong to the special someone.

Dustin’s definitely not jealous or resentful, nope not one bit.

Taking the stairs two at a time he pulls out a notebook, ready to jot down any discrepancies in the house.

The best room to check is Steve’s. Mike follows him inside while Lucas and Will check the other rooms for clues.

The room is messy, it seems like the laundry hasn’t been done in awhile. Dustin yanks open the closest draw and starts to rummage while Mike searches the desk.

He’s the one to break the silence of moving objects,

“Are you sure we should be looking?” Kicks over a gray sweatshirt, “I don’t wanna see anything– weird”

Dustin turns around pulling a crop top from the bottom more aggressively than he should. The whole drawer shakes.

It has a ‘LIFEGUARD’ emblem on the front. He waves it like a celebration flag. Totally not Steve’s style therefore,

“Look! This is definitely hers!” 

Mike gives him a look, “It’s a bit creepy you're so obsessed with this..”

He huffs, throwing the garment on the floor and notes down the item.

‘Lifeguard’

“If you’re too much of a coward to look then fine! I’m just being a good wingman checking if some random girl is good enough for Steve Harrington.”

“Whatever man, I’m just gonna go downstairs,” He walks towards the door. “Look under the bed, my sister loves to keep her secret stash of things there”

He salutes him off, “Thanks for the tip!”

Once Mike is well downstairs Dustin drops to his knees getting ready to crawl under, he spots a few things. A cardboard box and a piece of blue fabric?

He slides the box out first, then tries to reach for the cloth pulling it out to see better.

But as soon as he realises what it is Dustin gives a girlish screech that he will forever deny. 

It's a freaking thong. Ew!

Lucas and Will come running from the passageway, once they spot the offending item Lucas starts laughing while Will looks slightly uncomfortable.

“Dude! What did you think you’d find under someone's bed?”

He tries to hide his embarrassment, “Shut up man, just tell me what you two found.” Kicking the lace back under the bed he sits down.

Will speaks first, “Well in the bathroom there was a feather earring, creams–” 

“And some rings,” Lucas adds. “But they were really big..”

He frowns, “Okay?”

“Yeah, maybe Steve started wearing them?” Will replies.

He puts it on the list but crosses it out after, Dustin’s never seen Steve wear any rings before, Lucas is probably exaggerating the size..

Lucas looks at the box with a question on his face, “Where did you find that?”

Dustin motions both to sit next down and explains Mike's idea of looking under the bed.

 “I’m pretty sure opening its’ gonna be another jumpscare Dustin,” 

He huffs, of course Will is the voice of reason.

To be on the safe side he shakes the box before opening, it rattles. Multiple small objects. He lifts the lid no longer scared.

A bunch of makeup. Boring. 

There’s a collection of jewellery, mostly silver.

‘Wears silver’

There’s a piece of yellow sticky note poking out from the bottom, he tugs on it and frowns, showing it to the others.

In red ink there’s Steve’s signature chicken scratches, but underneath is response in an odd shade of blue, faded and smudged. Either low quality or almost running out as the ink skips a bit. It’s smaller than Steve’s but comically much sharper in comparison.

The red reads ‘Bluebird ’ with a sad imitation of what he assumes is a bird, while the biro responds ‘Idiot’ with a better looking heart.

“I recognise the pen!” Will exclaims

Dustin snorts while Lucas raises his eyebrows incredulously.

“You recognise the pen from its ink??”

Will nods, “Where my mum works, those are the pen’s that are normally on display to test in the stationary section.” He points to the writing. “I’m normally stuck with those if I forget my pencil case at home.”

Lucas butts in “So what does that mean? Steve’s girlfriend is a pen thief?”

He chews his thumbnail thinking over this new information, “No, this person shops at Meldav’s which means…”

Dustin looks up at the others, Meldav’s isn’t known for its quality. Most people would rather head to the Mall to buy something like stationary. He writes down.

‘Poor?’

They hear running up the stairs, Dustin slams the lid on the container and shoves it under the bed.

Mike opens the door and all three of them visibly deflate.

“My mum’s here to pick us up” He looks at Lucas “ She said she can drop you off as well.”

The two get up leaving Dustin to trail behind. He’s the only one being babysat tonight since his Mom’s out of town for the weekend.

The group gets ready to leave, he swivels his head around realising Max isn't here. 

El looks up from tying her shoelaces, “She wanted to skate home before it gets dark.”

He shrugs looking at the clock above the door, guess it's gonna be himself for the next half hour.

The others wave him off, Dustin decides to make a hot chocolate and laze on the fancy couch while he waits.

Sifting through the kitchen he finds a questionable amount of sweet food. Half finished bags of lollipops, soda, chocolate all seem to be piled into one draw. 

A bit weird since Steve always turns down any offers of candy that Dustin has on hand. Says he’s ‘building his figure’. He writes it down.

‘Sweet tooth’

Afterwards Dustin crashes on the sofa, drink in hand. It’s getting dark outside and once pulling a big cushion over himself, he’s dozing off to the hum of soap operas.

                                 ~

“He’s asleep, don’t worry babe..”

Dustin awakes to the quiet giggling and whispers of Steve and someone else.

It takes a few seconds for him to register but once he does Dustin stiffens in realisation. It's them!  

Peaking over the couch will solve the mystery that’s been bugging him for months.

Slowly edging upwards, a smile pulls his lips. He’s finally caught them.

The secret girlfriend that's been hoarding so much of his best friends' time, Pride and relief swell in his gut.

He lifts his head.

A few things happen at once.

Dustin makes eye contact with a mop of blonde hair, but his eye’s fly open in horror once he realises exactly which blonde it is. 

Billy fucking Hargrove.

Billy yells shoving Steve, who was previously whispering in his ear, away and points at Dustin. 

“I FUCKING told you this was a bad idea!

Steve whips around spotting Dustin and smiles sheepishly.

Dustin just stares, eyes darting between the two. He’s lost for words really.

“So this is the secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding?”

The blonde turns so suddenly Dustin’s surprised he’s not snapped his neck. Billy yanks Steve forward by the collar.

“Secret Girlfriend…?”

Steve fumbles around, arms flailing and out of breath.

“I– I can explain!”

Billy grapples with Steve in what Dustin assumes is a headlock while he slides stealthily back down the couch.

“You going behind my back pretty boy?”

“This is all a misunderstanding I swear!”

Their wrestling dissolves into laughter, seemingly forgetting his presence.

Maybe Dustin will leave this a mystery unsolved.

Hope y'all enjoyed! It’s just turned his birthday where I am so enjoy early!

[missz3lda]

The Earth's magnetic poles flip roughly every 200,000 to 300,000 years. It's been about 780,000 years since the last flip, so some scientists think we might be overdue. However, these reversals are unpredictable and could take thousands of years to happen. While a flip could disrupt technology and navigation, it’s not expected to cause catastrophic consequences.

Science Focus, 2023. Earth's magnetic field. Available at: https://www.sciencefocus.com/planet-earth/earth-magnetic-field

More dork content here

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE FLIP REVERSE IT DAY 1: School Project SFW NSFW | Mature | 2.2k

Sort of unofficially doubling up with Harringrove Week for this one since both events have similar prompts. Also been sitting on this one for a WHIIIILE so I'm excited to share it! Please enjoy 🥰🥰

Read on AO3

Made for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Steve told Billy to bring over a shoe box.

“You’re lucky I keep these.”

“Nice to see you too.”

And it was, despite the odd circumstances that served as an excuse for them to see each other, and for Billy to go to Steve’s house after school without being asked too many questions. When Miss Brown assigned them together, it was because they were the only two no one else wanted to partner up with. Steve and his C-average, Billy and his attitude—a match made in Hawkins High Heaven.

So, the war. One of them. A battle sometime in the late 19th century was the object of their diorama, which would be constructed in a Doc Marten’s box. Steve already had the materials laid out in the garage, all thanks to Dustin, whoever that was. Billy didn’t care, not when he had Steve to focus on.

“Steve, that’s not gonna stick,” Billy told him close to an hour later, after they’d decided to let Billy handle the note cards. Steve was gluing something to the box’s roof, a piece of clay with a glob of Elmer’s. It was laid flat, but still.

“It’s still wet, asshole, of course it’s not.”

Billy laughed. “You got a hot glue gun?” he asked, and Steve pointed to a cabinet where one might have been. “Here, you copy that stuff down. I’ll do this for a bit.” So Steve agreed, and they switched for a few minutes once the glue gun heated up. Steve said he was clumsy and didn’t want to use it anyway. “Can’t let those pretty hands get hurt, huh?” He slapped Billy’s thigh.

Saying so was an omen, apparently, because soon after he started, Billy hissed and swore under his breath. “What happened?” Steve asked, and Billy just laughed and picked at his finger.

“Fucking burned myself,” he said, laughing. “Christ, of course I did.”

“Shit. I’ve got some stuff in the bathroom—“

“It’s fine, man, I’m alright.”

Steve sighed, and Billy surprised himself by letting Steve drag him to the upstairs bathroom anyway, if only because it was Steve. “Max said you like to play nurse,” Billy said. Steve looked through the medicine cabinet until he found a tube of burn gel, sitting it on the counter expectantly.

“You get hurt in my house, you fix it.” One of Steve’s hands perched on his hip, the other flat on the surface of the counter he leaned against. Billy looked at him with both brows raised, a skeptical grin, then held his finger up to Steve’s face.

“You do it.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“Wanna play nurse, play nurse,” Billy said like it was obvious. “Come on.”

So Steve rolled his eyes and picked up the tube, twisting the cap halfway before flipping it into the sink with his thumb. Billy, suddenly, was aware of how close they really were, surprised that it had gone this far even though he initiated it and knew very well that he did. Steve Harrington, then, was holding his hand; not conventionally, but he was. It was tender. Billy’s playful edge wavered.

Maybe they had passing moments like this sometimes, brief glances upon skin that never led to anything. In the gym, the showers, but mostly the parking lot where there were too many people for anyone to notice. Neither were shy; just cautious.

Now they didn’t have to be. Not in Steve’s bathroom when his parents weren’t home, behind the safety of a locked door, the warmth of Steve’s two-handed grasp. Billy looked from his hand to the tube of burn cream on the sink, expecting Steve to have used it by then, but he only stood and stared at the tip of Billy’s finger. Inspecting the burn, perhaps, but it wasn’t that bad.

“What the hell are you doing, Harrington?” he asked with no bark, no bite. Steve’s thumb rubbed over his knuckle. Billy swore he saw the gears in his head turning ever-so slowly, contemplating, gauging Billy’s pulse from his palm.

Then, just as slowly as those gears turned, Steve tugged just enough for Billy’s finger pad to reach his mouth and press against soft lips—they were just as hot. Billy flinched, and Steve’s hold tightened, but he made no move to pull away completely. He held his ground enough to let Steve know that, yes, he wanted this, and, yes, right now. Steve glanced up from beneath short lashes that Billy hadn’t yet the chance to see arched over his eyelids so perfectly.

“Is this how you charm every project partner?” Billy asked with a smirk and jealous eyes, but Steve shook his head.

“Just you,” he said. A second kiss. Billy relaxed. “I put your name down, you know.” A third.

“Did you?”

“Mhm.”

Billy faltered before asking, “Why me?” and Steve shrugged, teasing him.

“Wanted to see you up close.” A forth right at the bend of his knuckle. “Have a real conversation.”

Smiling, “What’s a real conversation?”

“One where I don’t flip you off…” A fifth to the back of his other knuckles, as if Billy was the royal. “One where you call me pretty boy and mean it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve said and smiled coolly, resting his chin against Billy’s palm. Billy thought he was dreaming when Steve lay his finger between parted lips, first only until the tip hit his teeth, and then right over his tongue. Sweat prickled at Billy’s temples; Steve pulled off, mouth still pressed firmly to warm skin. “You’re salty.”

“I’d have washed my hands if I knew you’d be all over them.”

Steve chuckled. “Mm, it’s okay…” And he licked at Billy’s finger pad like a cat. “I like it.” Then it was two knuckles deep and rolling over to the dip in Steve’s cheek.

“You trying to tell me something?” Steve’s eyes opened, found Billy’s, arched into a smile as he shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said, slurred from the space Billy took up in his mouth. “How’s your finger?”

“Better,” Billy said, and Steve leaned in closer, so deliberate that he thought time was slowing down just for them. He pulled his finger out from Steve’s mouth that chased it reluctantly, wanting more but not allowed to have it. His mouth hung open dumbly, and he was leaning against Billy with most of his weight, melting into the other hand that slid up his arm.

Steve was the one to lean even further, up until his open mouth found Billy’s closed lips, overwhelming him to the point of being perfectly still. The face he made when he pulled back was heartbreaking. “Kiss me back,” he said, pleaded, yet Billy could still only stare at his perfectly pink lips, freckled cheeks and forehead that frowned. His eyes were so big, filled with yearning that tugged at every heartstring Billy had.

“Steve…” It came out as a whisper. The last crumb of aching denial rolled away. Billy’s chest worked before his brain, a deep inhale fueling the surge of want that hit him like a train. He kissed Steve back. Oh, did Billy kiss him. Slow, heavy, his movements were sharp, and it was like learning how to do it all over again. He didn’t know what to do with his tongue or his teeth—or his hands, besides gripping tighter to Steve’s hair and t-shirt. He was long gone.

They weren’t so different in height. A couple inches, if that, in Steve’s favor, so even weak in the knees, Billy’s chin turned up to meet his kiss. To look at him in the brief moments they pulled away for air and let their eyes flutter long enough to capture a still of the other, desaturated and pale but beautiful nonetheless. Steve’s arms wrapped around Billy’s shoulders, pulling him closer while pushing back against the wall. Words became blissful sighs and groans, one body dragging the other against it from head to toe. Hips rolled in waves with their spines and sent shivers up their cores.

If Billy tried moving his hands to Steve’s shoulders or back, he nuzzled his head back under Billy’s palm. If he tried to leave Steve’s mouth for his neck, those runaway lips were chased. “Stop it,” Steve said. “Just—let me—please.” Billy huffed a breathy laugh as he was rubbed against like a scratching post.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, baby.” His voice was low enough to vibrate through Steve’s brain and turn him to mush, a useless block of melting ice trying desperately to hold its shape.

“Then don’t make me wait,” Steve told him, pulling away for just long enough to send a message through his eyes. There might have been fear in that look for a moment, a question of whether this was a good idea, whether they would do this and regret ever letting themselves have it, but decidedly they didn’t care about that. Steve was kissed once more, and then began sinking lower to the floor, stamping open-mouthed kisses over Billy’s neck while both hands found shelter under his shirt. It took the two of them to rip it off and throw it into the sink; Steve froze.

“What’s the matter?” Billy asked, suddenly self-conscious when Steve glazed over his torso with sad, pleading, yearning eyes—Billy had never known the difference. “We showered this morning, what’s wrong with you?”

“I know, I know, just—“ Large hands pressed into his sides, thumbs drawing over the front, up to his chest, over each nipple and back down again. Steve lost his train of thought entirely. Then he lowered himself down onto one knee, pressed the side of his face against Billy’s abdomen, listening for the heartbeat as it pulsed through him in waves. A kiss placed just next to his belly button slowed Billy’s breaths down before they accelerated again, both hands still wading through Steve’s hair and following the motions of his head.

Lower it went, lips and teeth and tongue still dragging over Billy’s skin like a thirsty hound, and frantic hands followed with reluctance to part from their station on his bare hips. He hadn’t even realized when Steve unbuckled his belt until the zipper of his jeans was being pried apart. Embarrassment washed over him and rose goosebumps everywhere. Steve chuckled, and Billy started to yank them back up when he was asked, “Do you always go commando?”

“What?”

Steve moved Billy’s hands away and pushed under the waist of his jeans, kneading his hips, seemingly unbothered by his unimpressive size: small enough to get away without briefs and not draw prying eyes. “Just for me, then?” Steve looked up, matching Billy’s gaze between kisses to his pelvic bone, cheek and jawline dragging over the hair and making brief points of contact against an aching cock.

“You don’t—you’re not—“

“Billy.” His jeans were down to his ankles by then, and he was more exposed than he’d been in his life. Physically, emotionally, intimately with someone he’d fantasized about and drooled over for months. Someone whose palms were firmly pressed against his glutes, whose fingers they melded to effortlessly. “You’re gorgeous.”

He could have cried, but Steve’s mouth fitting around his shaft kept those tears behind his eyes and made him shudder hard. He supposed the king’s tongue was a myth, then, only rumor dictating how sophisticated Steve’s palate was. Perhaps Billy was a delicacy, which he considered while Steve rolled over and under, pulsed against the tip, pushed a hand between Billy’s thighs to rub palm-up against his balls. There weren’t words or a sound he could make to express, with uninhibited honestly, what this meant and did for him, but Steve didn’t mind the quiet.

Billy’s huffs and hisses filled the space, harmonizing low, long hums with Steve’s. Every so often, his hips jerked, and he got teeth in return. Not hard but softly gliding along the stretch of his cock and around the base, sucking where his scrotum started and coaxing louder grunts.

Steve swallowed. Kept a hand firmly against Billy’s groin when he stood back up and kissed him some more. “Salty, salty, salty…” For a moment, Billy was reluctant to kiss him back but did anyway when his face was turned forward by a firm hold on his jaw. It was disgusting and arousing at once, to kiss Steve with the ghost of his own flavor. Not that he cared all that much, because he was still kissing Steve Harrington; Steve Harrington was still kissing him. It was bliss.

Breathless, Billy pulled his jeans back up and tugged on his shirt with languid arms and Steve’s assistance. “We can go to bed if you want,” Steve said against Billy’s ear, a hand on his chest and fingers tracing over reddened collarbones.

“We’ll—let’s—“ God, he was so dizzy. “Project first, Harrington, come on.” He sniffed, trying to play it cool, like he hadn’t just had the next week’s energy sucked out of him. “You’re not getting a C on my watch.”

One more kiss—there was a joke in there somewhere—and they were back in the garage for a while. Closer this time, more touchy, more distracted, and more sure than they’d ever been that this was right.