Chapter Text
“Steve, you cover Hargrove alright?
“Yeah, Hop, I got it.” Just like every other goddamn time.
“Alright shitheads, first team to 21, let’s get out there and kick some firefighter ass, yeah?”
A raucous cry sounds from the small huddle of police officers before they all jog out onto the court but Steve is slow to follow, only slightly less encouraged by the Chief’s rousing peptalk. It doesn’t take long to spot Hargrove across the shiny gym floor, he’s hard to miss, practically naked as he is. They don’t play shirts and skins but the muscular blonde has never let that bother him. Anytime they organize a pickup game between the two departments, Billy can be counted on to lose his shirt at the first opportunity. Steve can admit to himself that if he looked like that, sinewy and glistening with sweat, he’d probably show off every chance he got too. The last few years have been good to Billy. Surprising the kind of turnaround a person can be motivated to when they survive being possessed by a monster made of fucking liquified people. Getting out of his dad’s house and joining the fire department had likely played a role in his changed temperament too. He’d gone from being a racist, belligerent asshole to a much more garden-variety, everyday asshole. Immensely more tolerable, but still an asshole. Max brought him around sometimes, they’d grown closer since that summer, so Steve was used to seeing Billy out and about but god, these games were the literal worst.
Steve’s deliberate march across the court finally leads him to where Billy is patiently waiting, like he’s figured out that Steve gets assigned to cover him every game. Hop assumes that since they played basketball on the same team in school that Steve has some inside track as to how Billy’s mind works. Not a fucking chance. What Steve does know for sure is that Billy takes great pleasure in fucking with him.
“Hey Stevie, looking to cop another feel?”
“I did not-” Steve huffs out an aggravated breath before he continues, “maybe you could wear a fucking shirt for once?”
“Where’s the fun in that pretty boy?” Billy asks with a wink and a sharp smile. “Come on, you ready to ride my ass all game again?”
“Jesus Christ, can we just play some basketball?” Steve exclaims, voice going high with embarrassment.
“Sure thing sweetheart.” Billy slyly smirks before turning around, bending at the waist to rest his hands on his knees and pressing his ass against Steve’s groin, eyes following the ball as though he has no idea how he’s affecting the other man. He does this on purpose! I cannot get hard right now, there’s no way he won’t notice and he’ll never let me live it down Steve thinks desperately. His fingers are itching to wrap themselves around Billy's hip bones, to press his thumbs into the dimples right above the curve of Billy’s ass. Steve breathes slightly easier as the blonde takes off after the ball to the other end of the court, sending Steve trudging after him.
Several tortuous minutes later and the police department is getting their asses handed to them. Huddled up, Hop is quick to let Steve know that he’s dropping the ball, figuratively anyway. “STEVE! What the hell are you doing out there? Hargrove has set up almost every point they’ve scored!"
“I know, I’m sorry Chief. Just distracted I guess.” distracted by a walking, talking asshole with a great body, jesus.
“Well get undistracted, I’ve got money against the fire chief on this game, I’d like to take Joyce out for dinner tonight.”
“Awww Hop, don’t put that kind of pressure on me!”
The corners of Hop’s mouth pull into a slight teasing smile, “Come on Steve, you don’t want Joyce to be disappointed do you?”
“You’re evil, you know that? Fucking evil.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get back out there and cover your man.”
Back out on the court, Steve sidles up to Billy, Hop’s words ringing in his ears, your man.
“Doing alright there Harrington?”
“Yeah Billy, I’m fine.”
“Not too distracted I hope?” Billy chuckles not unkindly.
Shit, he heard that? “Yeah, I’ll be fine, nothing to worry about, just tired I guess.” Steve rambles, trying to hide his discomfort, hoping that the real reason he has been distracted isn’t obvious to the other man. But he hasn’t been paying attention to the ball and the other bodies moving around him, too focused on Billy’s lips pulling back from his teeth to reveal a wickedly knowing smile. One second he’s turning away from Billy, towards the sounds of feet squeaking across the floor and the next he’s sprawled out flat on his back, wondering what the fuck just happened?
“Christ, Harrington!” Billy shouts, coming to stand next to where Steve is laid out across the floor, quickly leaning over to extend a hand. As Steve reaches for the offered hand, he can’t help but recall all the times that Billy knocked him to the gym floor himself, his face younger but harsher, mouth sneering and mean as he said plant your feet. But this time he hears concern, “Are you alright? Let me help you up, that was fucking brutal.”
“Yeah, yeah I think so.” Steve mumbles, distracted again, by the way that Billy’s hands are trailing over his skin, checking him out after his fall. It feels like trails of fire on his already heated skin as the other man’s fingertips press into his hair, against the skin of the nape of his neck, just below where his head met the floor. As the pressure of the touch against his skin grows softer, fingers pulling away, Steve groans softly, leaning forward, seeking out more contact with his whole body. His eyes snap open, he hadn’t realized he’d closed them, when he hears Billy sharp inhalation of breath. Billy is just staring at him, staring at him hard, as his hand comes to just rest on Steve’s shoulder, his gaze penetrating.
“Steve! Take a break before you pass out!” Hop calls out from the opposite end of the court, startling them both from where they’ve stood frozen. Glad to get away before he makes even more of a spectacle of himself, Steve jogs off to throw himself down on the bench next to the game’s score keeper. “Jesus, Steve you alright?”
“Hey Dustin, yeah I think so. Just a bump on the head.” He says, trailing his fingers over the sore spot hidden underneath his hair, tracing the path that he can still feel Billy’s fingers making against his scalp.
“Not that dumbass. I’m talking about the major eye-fucking you just took from Billy Hargrove.”
“What?!”
“Uh, yeah man. Everybody saw it. I thought you guys were gonna start making out right in the middle of the game.”
“Jesus Christ Dustin, shut up before someone else hears you!”
“Hears me? They all fucking saw it too Steve!”
Steve rests his elbows on his knees, his head hanging in his hands and whines, “Oh my god, I hate you.”
“What the fuck did I do?”
“Nothing yet. But I know you, as soon as this game is over you’re gonna be texting Lucas and all those other assholes to tell them about this.”
“Yeah, I already texted Lucas, and he was with Max, so literally everyone knows.”
“God dammit Dustin, why? Why would you do that?”
“Hey, that’s what friends do, they tell each other stuff.”
“What about me? I’m your friend too!”
“I know Steve, and I love you. But seriously, this was too good not to share, I never get to be the one who knows things first. And you’re acting like Hop isn’t going to tell Joyce, who will then tell Will and Johnathan, Will would tell El, El would tell Mike...what I am trying to say is quit fucking blaming me because they were all going to find out anyway.”
“Oh my god, I’m so mortified that Hop saw that. Was it really that bad?”
“Eye fucking to the nth degree my friend.”
“Christ, kill me now.”
“You’re gonna be fine, you big baby. What would be really sad though is if you let this opportunity to fuck your high school bully pass you by.”
“Aaaand I’m done. I am done talking to you about my sex life right now.” Steve rushes to get up and back onto the court in an effort to get away from Dustin and their increasingly uncomfortable discussion as quickly as humanly possibly.
“Think about it Steve! Think about what I said!”
“And what exactly did Curly have to say?” Billy asks from somewhere over Steve’s left shoulder. Whipping around quickly, a hand pressed against his own chest, Steve huffs out, “Nothing important. Just making inappropriate comments about my sex life. You know, the usual.”
“Mmmm. Yeah, Max likes to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong too.” Billy says, but Steve can see tell it’s said with fondness rather than true irritation. “You sure you’re alright? Quite a spill you took.”
“I’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
“Well, if you need--" but whatever Billy was going to offer gets drowned out by Dustin yelling, “GAME OVER! 21-16, the fire department wins!” This announcement is met by equal parts victorious cries and disappointed groans from all over the gym, none louder than Hopper as he hands over several bills to the fire chief.
“Well shit, Hop’s gonna be pissed at me for sure.” He murmurs to himself, turning back to Billy, who is watching him amusedly.
“Could always hide out in the locker room until he leaves. Been quite awhile since we showered together Harrington, how about one for old times sake?” Billy winks before sauntering off to grab his duffel bag and on towards the locker room door without a backwards glance at Steve.
Mouth agape, Steve’s mind is running a mile a minute. Did Billy really want him to follow? If he did, would he act like it had all been a joke, another jab to trip Steve up, get him flustered? Or would he expect to pick up where they’d left it on the court? Did Steve even want that? Yes. Yes he really did. Dustin was right. Steve would be really fucking stupid to let this chance go, he’d wanted Billy like this, wanted him badly, for a long time and he might not ever get another opportunity. Also, Robin was likely to kill him if she found out that Steve had chickened out and not made a move on Billy when he had the chance.
When Steve walked into the locker room, the humidity practically smacked him in the face. All that moisture in the air and his mouth still ran dry at the sight before him. Billy Hargrove showering, which in all honesty Steve had seen hundreds of times, even stood next to him while it was happening. But this time was different, better, than all those other times because of the other thing that Billy was doing. Singing. Christ, Steve might jizz his pants right then and there, just watching the sweaty, soapy blonde, eyes closed, crooning out Demi Lovato lyrics.
“If I had it my way, I would take the lead
And if I had it my way, I would take you deep
If my body had a say, I'd get it off my chest
Show you all the red lace underneath this dress”
The idea of Billy in a dress, a red lacy one at that, almost sent Steve over the edge. Billy’s icy blue eyes flew open at the undignified sound Steve made, his thoughts starting to get away from him as their gazes collided across the locker room. At that point, Steve starts to panic as he takes in Billy’s wide-eyed, surprised look. Had Billy not really meant for him to follow? Shit, he probably hadn’t and now you look like a fucking idiot. Goddammit Dustin, of course Billy didn’t want him. This was all just a terrible, embarrassing misunderstanding. One Billy wasn’t likely to ever let him live down.
Steve quickly turns back around and starts towards the locker room door, choking out “I’ll just-”
“Didn’t you come in here to shower, pretty boy?”
Halting, Steve inhales deeply, tilting his head back to stare plaintively at the ceiling, here we fucking go, before turning back to the other man determinedly, “Yeah, I guess I did, Hargrove.”