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“Ha! I told you!” Billy cried in triumph as he broke the surface of the pool, grinning widely at Steve and shaking his wet hair at him.
“Dammit!” Steve cursed.
It was a stupid bet. A really really stupid bet on Steve’s part. Why the hell did he bet Billy, THE HAWKINS POOL LIFEGUARD, that he could hold his breath longer than Billy could? Oh, because Billy had been being insufferable, giving Steve shit about not being able to swim since Steve hadn’t gotten in the pool with the kids and he was so desperate the get the other boy to shut up, he made the stupid bet just for a few minutes of peace and quiet!
But now that Billy had kicked his ass, he was sorely regretting it. Because the thing Billy had asked for if he won…
Steve tried not to think about it as he dried off and threw his t-shirt back on, eager to get the kids home and forget this day ever happened. But of course, Billy Hargrove never let anything go.
“I’ll be by later tonight to collect, pretty boy,” Billy murmured low, flicking his tongue out to lick the shell of Steve’s ear. Steve spluttered indignantly, shoving the laughing boy away from him and heading to his car where the kids were already waiting.
See, the thing was, Steve and Billy had this weird sort of thing going on. Nothing official or anything they’d just…jerk each off sometimes. In the lockers when Billy was on break at the pool. In the backroom at scoops when Steve was supposed to be doing inventory.
They still drove each other crazy, but Steve couldn’t deny that the other boy was under his skin, in a good way as well as an annoying way.
“What was up with you and Hargrove?” Dustin asked.
“What? Nothing. Shh,” Steve said, focusing on the road.
He dropped each of the kids off in turn, not even surprised when he pulled into his driveway to find Billy already waiting for him. He contemplated driving around the block a few times just to be an asshole, but decided against it since there was no point in prolonging the inevitable.
Billy followed Steve into his house, walking around like he owned the place. He wandered into Steve’s living room, pulling a tape out of his pocket and popping it into the player in the corner before settling himself on Steve’s couch, a shit eating grin on his face.
Steve rolled his eyes.
“Really? This is the song you want?” he asked as “Rock You Like a Hurricane” blasted through the speakers.
Billy shrugged.
“My prize, my rules,” he said simply.
“Do I really have to do this?” Steve whined.
“We bet and you lost, so you have to do it,” Billy said, tongue caught between his teeth.
There was a challenge in his eye. Like he thought Steve was gonna chicken out. As if he would give Billy the satisfaction. Steve glared at the other boy, stalking toward him, swaying his hips as he went.
Billy’s eyes widened and Steve felt a strange sense of satisfaction at tripping the other boy up because it was almost always the other way around. If Billy wanted a lap dance, then Steve was gonna fucking give it to him. Never let it be said that Steve Harrington was a fucking coward.
Steve kicked off his shoes and sock, figuring it was best to get those out of the way first, then he slid one hand down his chest, the other dragging through his hair as he moved his hips, trying to find some sort of rhythm that went with rock you like a fucking hurricane.
Billy sucked in a breath when Steve ran his hands up Billy’s thighs before settling himself in the other boy’s lap, rolling his hips but keeping them far enough away that he and Billy were barely touching.
“Fuck, Steve. So hot,” Billy groaned, hands gripping Steve’s ass.
Steve laughed, grabbing Billy’s wrists and yanking his hands away.
“Uh-uh, Goldilocks,” he teased, using the nickname he knew Billy loved even if he wouldn’t admit it, “no touching.”
Billy huffed, breathing heavily as Steve continued gyrating against him, slowly, teasingly, dragging his shirt off and letting it drop to the floor behind him as he slipped his hands up Billy’s chest.
It was fun like this. Having Billy at his mercy. Being able to touch him while Billy had to keep his hands to himself. Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t like it.
Of course, ever the rule breaker, Billy snapped, dragging Steve closer and sinking his teeth into his neck, sucking a deep purple bruise onto Steve’s pale skin. Steve gasped, tightening his hold on Billy’s shoulders.
“B-Billy,” he moaned as Billy’s clever fingers worked at the ties on his swim trunks. “This wasn’t p-part of the bet.” Not that he minded obviously.
Billy growled against his neck.
“Fuck the bet.”