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mourntheantagonist · 1 year ago

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Trigonometry

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8:05 p.m.

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

8:05 p.m.

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

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

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

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

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

“He should be here already.” she grumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

8:08 p.m.

He was there. It was happening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck. I was kidding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve must’ve felt the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luckily, Nancy thought she might have the answer.

“It’s okay, Billy.”

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

“It’s okay,” he said.

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

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

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

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

Steve didn’t fail to notice either.

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

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

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

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

Even more thrilling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And boy did she have the urge.

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

It did. Actually. It did make her jealous.

The difference was, she liked the way it felt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there was Billy.

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

He was still straining to look at her.

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

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

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

Billy leaned into the touch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so did Billy, apparently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you wanna do?”

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

“Someone’s eager,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me.”

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

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

“Oh—ok…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…”

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

“I’ve done, y’know, that before.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was looking over at her.

The illusion had fallen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s okay.

It was all okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nancy took a deep breath, and held it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was what she thought.

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

Billy whimpered again, and her entire body felt it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve, I’m gonna cum!”

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

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

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

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

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

Nope. Too late. It was too late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Those eyes were facing Steve.

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

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

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

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

She thought that was what she wanted.

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

She wanted to know what they were saying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s leaving?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay. So. He definitely wasn’t leaving.

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

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

Too fast.

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

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

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

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

She just wanted to be in the loop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stars.

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

“Mmm-Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

Really good.

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

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

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

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

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

“So…is Billy a good kisser?”

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

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

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

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

“You could say that.” she said.

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

“Are you saying???!!”

“He DIDN’T!!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Nancy knew. She knew this was right.

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

Touchdown.

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

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

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

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

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

How could Steve not want to look?

Why did she want him to?

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

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

Somehow that was the most embarrassing thing of all.

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

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

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

Fuck that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was right there. She could taste it.

Right…

There.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve quickly turned back to Billy.

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

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

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

He didn’t try moving away after that.

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

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

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

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

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

Billy was looking at her when she did.

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

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

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

She was right.

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

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

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

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

She wasn’t used to that.

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

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

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

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

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