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“Hey, Chris!”
Chrissy looked up at her name, brow furrowed as Steve drew near. He plastered on his most pleasing, charming smile, despite how mottled and cut up his face felt even two weeks after Billy had tried to cave his face in. She sat at the end of the basketball-cheerleader table and she looked extremely uncomfortable to be there. Hunched in on herself. Tiny. Like the sun hidden behind a raincloud.
Maybe Billy had knocked something loose in his head, or righted something, because… Well. Steve took notice of things. A closer notice, anyway. He hadn’t done a great job noticing Nancy, her pain, but…
But Chrissy looked like she was two words away from jumping into the quarry.
Maybe a bit dramatic, but still. Steve had apparently become somewhat of a people pleaser, or—something. Nancy would know the words.
Fucking Nancy.
Steve shook his head of the thought. If she wanted to be with Jonathan, who was Steve to stop her? He cleared his throat and tried to gentle his smile, despite it pulling at his eye that still ached. “Nance said you were good in English? Proofreading? I was wondering if you could help me with my essay?” Shit, he hadn’t meant to sound unsure, but there was no taking that back.
“Sure!” she chirped, hopping up and waving to the others as he led her to a more secluded table. “Thanks,” she added quietly, stabbing at her mixed fruit.
“Looked like you weren’t having a great time,” he joked.
Chrissy smiled, laughing under her breath at the repeated words from last Christmas when they had hidden under a staircase at his father’s company Christmas dinner. Her mom was a secretary for one of the higher ups, and the two always spent the evening together after they did the appropriate amount of schmoozing.
“I wasn’t,” she agreed, shoving the fruit in her mouth almost viciously. “Jason wants me to date him.”
Steve pulled a face. “That would be like dating a rosary and not nearly as fun.”
“Steve!”
Despite sounding scandalized, she was still laughing, failing to hide her mirth behind her hand.
“Are you looking to date?” he tried to ask casually, stabbing a soggy tater tot and completely too enamored watching her laugh. Eugh. He should have skipped the tots. “Because, uh, I wouldn’t mind uhm. Taking you on a date.”
Fuck. Smooth, Steve. He wanted to smack himself.
Especially when Chrissy abruptly stopped laughing. “What?”
“It was just a thought,” Steve replied, ignoring the ice spreading through his chest, the need to run away. His mouth ran away from him, adding, “You’re cute, I’m cute, you don’t wanna date Jason, I don’t wanna date Jason, we get along pretty well. It’s a win-win!”
She was smiling again—the small, blushy, genuine one that he liked a lot. “Didn’t you and Nancy just break up?”
Steve shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, like the thought of what happened over Halloween didn’t hurt him to his core. “And she’s already with Byers. Honestly, the relationship was over a long time ago. We just…”
“Yeah…”
They were quiet for a while after that, picking at their food. Steve knew Chrissy’s trouble with eating, how her asshole mom had gotten into her head about her weight, despite Chrissy being one of the tiniest things Steve had ever seen. His own appetite was just lacking, after Nancy broke him at Tina’s party the other week.
“Do you want to date me,” Chrissy asked quietly, lowering her voice and leaning closer to Steve, “because you’re trying to hide how much you want to date Billy?”
“How much I want to what?!” Steve hissed back, leaning over his tray and probably getting his food all over his shirt but whatever because— “I don’t want to date Billy!”
Chrissy rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “I know you crush on boys who beat you up.”
Steve hated her and hated his past self for drunkenly telling her about his crush on Byers after the other boy beat his ass. No, he could never hate Chrissy. But he most certainly didn’t like her voicing his thoughts so loudly.
“Shut up!”
“No.” Chrissy was smirking at him, and he very much wanted to go back in time and stab himself. Or stab his dick because it was suddenly a little too interested in the conversation at the moment. “We’re both blonde. Both athletes. Both of us could take you down a peg—heh, peg—”
“Okay, listen here—”
“I had to listen to you drunkenly ramble about you wanting to have Jonathan’s babies last Christmas.” Her eyes widened, as if coming to a sudden realization. “You want to have our babies. Oh my God Steve.” Her eyes darted to something behind him and she grinned. Like a cat who got the cream and the canary. “And Billy is trying to light me on fire by his glare alone.”
Steve really had nothing left to lose so he spun around and caught Billy startling and turning away to glare down at his tray again.
… Huh.
Chrissy suddenly stood, heading over to dump her tray. Steve followed—of course he followed—and stuttered to a stop when she approached the basketball table again.
“Chrissy—”
Apparently Chrissy was feeling bold, because she snatched Billy’s ear and tugged him up despite his protests. Surprisingly, he didn’t even try to fight her. He bitched and moaned and swore as he stumbled after Chrissy, having to bend down since Chrissy was so small. Steve flushed as he hurried after them, pretending he couldn’t feel the entire school watching them disappear from the lunch room. Chrissy led them all the way outside, back behind the gym where no one wanted to go in the middle of November. It was fucking cold and he hunched into his jacket, wishing Chrissy had let them get their coats before dragging them out there.
“The fuck is all this for,” Billy grumbled, rubbing his ear and glaring at Chrissy once she let go.
Chrissy ignored him and turned to Steve instead. “You have two hands.”
On instinct, Steve looked down to make sure he actually did have two hands, because what the fuck. “Huh?”
Chrissy ignored him, too, spinning back to glare up at Billy who was looking between them warily. “You’re queer,” she said quietly, confidently, arms crossed and expression stern, broking no argument.
Billy froze for all of two seconds before he lunged at her, fury etched into every fiber of his being. Steve leapt forward and pushed Billy back into the brick wall, ignoring the fists grabbing him as Chrissy only made it worse by adding, “You’re in the company of two bisexuals, dumbass.”
Chrissy had never been that mean, that bold before. It made even Steve falter as he turned to look at her. Billy—warm and all muscle and thick cologne that stuck to the back of Steve’s throat—stilled under his hands.
“What?”
Chrissy seemed exasperated at that point. She waved between herself and Steve. “Bi-sex-u-al. Steve wants to have your babies.”
“Chrissy!”
“Am I lying?”
Steve spluttered, couldn’t come up with a good enough comeback. His face felt so fucking hot as Billy leaned close, leering and licking his lip like that day in basketball and—fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“That so, pretty boy?” Billy seemed a lot less angry all of the sudden. The sudden one-eighty was giving him whiplash.
“Oh my God.” Chrissy sounded even more exasperated and Steve could just imagine her rolling her eyes, but he couldn’t take his gaze away from Billy. “Would you two just kiss already? I’m going to be in a nursing home before you get on with it.”
Apparently, that was all the invitation Billy needed because suddenly it was Steve pressed against the wall with Billy pressing so close that Steve couldn’t fucking breathe. That, or because Billy had his mouth pressed to his, bullying his way into Steve’s mouth until someone was whimpering. It was probably Steve, and he wanted someone to fucking shoot him for it, but Billy was determined to make him pass out, make his knees weak, pressing harder, closer, the more noise Steve made.
Then Billy pulled back—no, was yanked back, Steve noticed in his daze—and tiny, powerful arms pushed Steve back into the wall, down into soft, glossy lips. Steve whined as he was manhandled by Chrissy, as she threaded her fingers into his hair and yanked and he moaned into her mouth, legs shaking, cock hard and straining against his jeans.
Fuck.
Chrissy pulled away with a wet smack of their lips, looking extremely satisfied. Steve still felt a little dizzy, honestly.
Billy’s eyes were dark. Hungry.
The cold air was kinda nice, actually, on his heated skin.
Gently, Chrissy took Steve’s right hand and placed it in Billy’s, then took his left hand and smiled up at him. “Two hands, Steve.”