clarytee - Tumblr blog

clarytee · 5 days ago

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Childhood best friends Harringrove losing their virginity to each other one sticky hot July night, the summer after their junior year. Whispered declarations of everlasting love as they lay tangled together in the sheets on Steve’s bed. Vowing to be each other’s one and only.

anon...you requested this back in September 2022 and it was at the very bottom of my drafts...I'm so sorry 😭 I'm not sure if you're still in the fandom or not but I finally finished your request!! light smut at the end!

He had expected it to be awkward. And, it kind of was, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like this - like what he’d been missing for so long as finally there, right where it was supposed to be.

Their lips had brushed for the first time at the age of 13 and 14, as a dare, at Tommy’s birthday party. And when Steve had pulled away, he saw this confused look in Billy’s blue eyes, his brows furrowed slightly. They’d been friends since the tender age of 6, when Steve had spotted a blond boy with curly hair standing alone at recess on the first day of kindergarten. They’d been inseparable ever since.

But once the girls and boys at the party had begun to giggle at them, they had laughed it off, Billy pushing at his shoulder like he always did, and Steve pushed that evening to the back of his mind, content to forget all about it.

Except, he couldn’t. Whenever he looked at Billy, his eyes went to his lips. Shaped so perfectly, pink like his mother’s azaleas, with a sharp cupid’s bow and plump bottom lip that drove Steve crazy.

And as they grew, muscles filling out and limbs elongating, jaws becoming scratchy with stubble, Steve still found him beautiful. His eyes, so intense, even when they were staring off into the distance and disconnected from the moment. His hair, always curled and set to Billy’s specifications, smelled of hairspray and cigarettes and Steve loved it. The freckles that dotted Billy’s nose and cheeks made Steve’s knees weak, along with the ones on his shoulders - especially those ones.

He spent so long admiring Billy and convincing himself that it was nothing, that he never noticed Billy doing it back. Looking when Steve wasn’t. Hooking up with girls that had brown hair and brown eyes. Grabbing Steve’s biceps during gym class and grinning at him knowingly, “You been lifting weights or something?” even though Billy knew they worked out together multiple times a week.

Perhaps it was just building up to this moment, at Steve’s 17th birthday party. His parents had fucked off to wherever they were that month and Billy had convinced him to throw a party, whispering in his ear all week at school.

“C’mon, dancing queen. You’re only seventeen once.”

‘Dancing queen’. As if Billy listened to ABBA.

Obviously, he gave in. He told a few people, who told others, and those others told their friends, and now here Steve was, being helped upstairs to his room by Billy. A strong arm around his waist, both of them giggling drunkenly as they get into the room and Billy shoves him onto the bed with a grin.

“Sleep it off, Stevie,” he hummed, not even bothering to look away as Steve rolled onto his back and began to undress, always one to sleep in just his briefs when he was drunk.

“I’m—" a hiccup, “I’m gonna, okay? S’your fault for giving me so many shots...” He mumbled as he kicked off his jeans, feeling Billy help him when they got caught on his ankles. He managed to open his eyes - unsure of when he’d closed them - long enough to see Billy standing at the foot of his bed, a soft smile on the blond’s face. “You gonna sleep here?” He asked softly.

Billy had nodded, “Yeah. M’not tired, though.” There were still guests downstairs, after all. And Steve trusted his best friend to make sure everyone left or had a place to sleep before going to bed himself.

“‘Kay,” Steve whispered, “G’night.”

“Night, Stevie.”

When Steve woke up the next morning, his brain feeling way too big for his skull, he found Billy next to him, asleep. And despite the hangover, Steve had sleepily blinked through the waves of nausea to admire Billy in the morning sun: messy hair, thick eyelashes casting a shadow fanning across his cheekbones, and his lips slightly parted with deep breaths. Clothes missing except his briefs, so comfortable and safe in Steve’s bed.

Steve’s heart had skipped a beat and he knew he was in love with Billy in that moment.

He’d always been a fool for love, but with Billy, it was different. It ran deep, something that felt like it was in his DNA, like he’d been made to love Billy Hargrove before he even knew it.

In the summer after their junior year, it all came to a head, when he kissed Billy in his backyard.

It was a hot July evening, and instead of melting in his room, Billy had shown up on Steve’s front door with a six pack of beer, a towel over his shoulder, and a familiar smile as he asked, “Wanna go for a dip?”

And who was Steve to deny him anything?

The sun is hot but at least the beer is cold, Steve thinks as he leans back on a recliner and sips at the lip of his can, watching Billy flop down in the recliner next to him, cracking his beer open with a happy hum.

It’s easy, with Billy. They’re assholes to each other but it’s the way they work. Snide comments, mean smiles, soft looks, inside jokes. They talk and drink for the entire afternoon, finally taking a dip in the pool once their skin is hot to the touch, and even then they’re splashing each other because it’s a competition and Billy never backs down, keeps poking Steve until he gets a reaction.

Maybe that’s why Billy swims him into a corner, a smirk on his flushed face, water clinging to his eyelashes and soaked curls. Steve lets himself be cornered, a hand resting on the edge of the pool as he grins at his best friend, ready to splash the blond but Billy has this look in this eye then. Something a little intense, a little serious, and it makes Steve freeze.

He sees the way Billy’s eyes flick down to his lips, for just a second, but it’s long enough that Steve notices.

And, he freezes, for a moment. The tension is thick and Billy falters, that cocky expression slipping away to uncertainty for a moment, like he's realizing that he's made a mistake.

Steve hates it. Hates that Billy would think for even a second that he wouldn't want this.

So, he pushes off the wall a bit, until he's pressed up against his best friend and he's clumsily pressing his lips to Billy's for a second before pulling away, eyes wide.

Billy's eyes are equally as wide, his jaw dropping a little in surprise.

And because Steve is Steve, he breathes, "I'm sorry."

Which has Billy blinking in confusion, his brows furrowing for a moment before he huffs in exasperation and splashes Steve in the face again.

"What the fuck!" Steve coughs, feels the chlorine burning his nose and eyes as he wipes at them, and when he opens them Billy is climbing out of the pool, the wet muscles of his back flexing under the sun so perfectly that Steve is stunned into silence at the mere sight.

Billy stands and turns around, an expectant look on his pink face as he stares down at Steve, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He waits a moment before asking, rather impatiently, "Are you getting out or what?"

"Are you going to throw me back in when I do?" He asks cautiously, already swimming to the edge where Billy had just lifted himself out from.

"You're making me want to, the longer you stay in there," Billy mutters, watching Steve climb out of the pool and standing there just a few feet away.

They look at each other for another moment, unsure of what to do, because it's settling in that they kissed without a dare or an audience and it meant something.

"Do it again," Billy mutters suddenly, almost whispers.

And Steve doesn't need to be told twice.

He steps close, their chests nearly touching, leaning in to press another kiss to Billy's lips - when he feels a shove to his chest and he's indeed flailing backwards into the pool.

When he resurfaces, Billy's frowning down at him and all but hissing, "Why the fuck would you apologize?"

"I don't know!" Steve gasps with desperation, a hint of a whine in his voice as he swims back to the edge of the pool, pushing his wet hair back from his face and glaring up at Billy as he folds his arms over the edge of the tile, "I...I panicked, I guess."

"Yeah, no shit," Billy huffs, his mouth twitching, "C'mon. Get out."

Steve gives him a look, which makes the blond roll his eyes before taking a step back from the pool, a safe distance away from Steve as he climbs back out again.

And then Billy's charging at him again, and Steve tenses and squeezes his eyes shut, expecting to feel himself thrown back in the pool, but then there's only warm skin and strong arms around his shoulders, pressing him down into the earth, and then Billy's demanding mouth against his.

His mouth is wet, hot, sucking Steve's tongue inside with a soft sound. Steve's immediately wrapping his arms around Billy in return, pressing into his body, tilting his head as he lets Billy claim his mouth.

It's aggressive, a little rough, so Billy.

The blond pulls away, his lips so red now, his eyes so blue under heavy lids as he whispers in a tone Steve can't refuse, "Upstairs."

They track water inside, but no one's around to give them shit for it, and it's hard for Steve to care when Billy's pushing his shorts down, so beautifully naked and hard in Steve's bed.

He pushes his own shorts down and climbs onto his bed, crawling on top of Billy and letting his best friend pull him down, feeling a hand gripping the soft-firm muscle of his ass, encouraging him to rock his hips down.

"Billy," he breathes, slotting his thigh between the blond's, their lips meeting again in a kiss as they rock together, desperate and needing and wanting.

Billy moans into his mouth, the sound so low and rumbling, settling in Steve's chest where he never wants it to leave.

It's embarrassingly quick, their first time, with the sensation of their cocks sliding together so slick and hot, pushing each other over the edge with a gasp and hissed curse.

And under that gauze of bliss, where Steve feels like he's floating, he begins to talk.

"Want you forever," Steve murmurs, unable to stop the swell of affection in his chest as Billy begins to rock under him again, their bodies so intertwined he didn't know when he started and Billy ended.

"One and only," Billy whispers, his voice a little shaky, staring up at Steve with such raw vulnerability, "You."

"Don't want anyone but you, Billy," Steve smiles gently, leaning down and pressing sweet little kisses to Billy's warm cheek, again and again, and Billy accepts them without complaint.

In fact, he looks pleased, with his own soft smile and pinked cheeks.

He looks happy.

Glowing with it, maybe.

Steve wants to see him like this, forever.

"It's always been you, and always will be," he promises, gently bumping the tip of his nose against Billy's, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "Gonna love you forever, whether you want it or not."

"I do, want it," Billy whispers, his voice cracking a little with emotion, his blue eyes so wet as he clings to Steve, "Promise?"

"I promise," Steve murmurs, kissing him again and again in his too-hot room, humming happily when Billy whispers his own promise against his lips.

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clarytee · 1 month ago

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Steve could think of a lot of things to call Billy Hargrove. Bully. Asshole. Arrogant. Gross. Unfortunately, the only thing Steve was allowed to call him was —

“Captain.”

Delivered through gritted teeth, mostly, or yelled across the court. Said in a drawl with an eye roll for added effect.

It wasn’t fucking fair. Billy had been a year under Steve in high school. And yet he’d managed to get to uni first, so now Steve was stuck calling Billy what Billy used to call him.

“Ass in gear, Harrington!”

At least some things never changed.

Billy was smart, apparently. Like — really smart. He’d bounced out of high school and immediately fucked off to uni, full ride and everything. Steve had to take two whole years to get himself in order, and even then his parents were paying for the degree. Steve was a whole year older than Billy and a whole year behind.

It fucking sucked.

Especially because no one here knew Billy in high school. It was just Steve who remembered what he used to be like. He hadn’t changed that much, but it was clear leaving Hawkins had a huge effect on the guy. Here in California, he was so much less angry.

He still yelled at the team plenty, but more to motivate than to abuse. Was still rough, but out of play, not violence. Still gross. Still hot. Still charmed the pants off any girl he wanted, still gave Steve that horrid smirk any time Billy got one up on him.

And after three years, Steve wasn’t really frustrated about Billy being a grade up, being better. Steve knew Billy would end up captain for his senior year. Now what Steve was frustrated about was how Billy had suddenly gotten worse. And no one else seemed to notice.

Maybe he just picked on Steve in particular. But it fucking sucked. The rest of the team worshipped Captain Hargrove, and Billy hated Steve.

Basketball was the only thing Steve knew he was good at. He wanted to be captain next year. So badly. But there was no way in hell Billy would hand the reigns to him, and he’d made that increasingly clear in the past few months.

Graduation was fast approaching. Finals were screwing everyone. Steve was high strung with the stress of it all, and Billy’s bullshit wasn’t helping.

Knocking him down just to pick him up and do it all over again. Passing to Steve just to yell at him for a ‘bad play’. Putting Steve on the opposite team and guarding him on purpose.

Steve was pissed off and he’d had enough.

“Alright, Captain,” he’d hissed the moment the gym doors had closed behind Billy, shoving the stockier boy up against the wall by the water fountain. “You really gonna hold a high school grudge all the way until graduation or what?”

Billy, asshole that he was, just grinned at him. “Why so touchy, Harrington? If this is about that girl at the party last well, it’s not your fault she wanted a younger guy.” He wiggled his brows.

“No — what?” Steve grimaced. Billy never stopped being gross. “Fuck off, dude. You know what I’m talking about. Everyone knows you target me like hell.”

Billy glanced away, all shifty, but when he looked back the grin was plastered into place. “Dunno what you’re talking about, Harrington. Look, I know you’re used to the princess treatment — ”

“Don’t give me that,” Steve snapped, pushing Billy’s shoulder, shoved harshly into the wall again, feeling only a tiny bit bad when Billy winced. “You treat me like shit. I know you wouldn’t give it to me to save your life but let’s face it your next best option is fucking Daniel and he’s not exactly a team player.”

Billy squinted at him. “You think next best is Daniel? Shit, maybe I should reconsider this whole thing.”

Steve gaped a little. “What whole — you weren’t gonna give it to him?”

“No, asshole,” Billy drawled, like Steve was slow. “I was gonna give it to you, but fuckin Daniel is such a shit take that maybe I gotta rethink my plan, you get what I’m sayin? Can’t have you picking shit new players.”

Steve stared at him.

Tried to find the lie, the joke, the taunt in Billy’s blazing eyes but Billy wasn’t a liar, never had been, not like Steve was.

Billy’s lips twitched. “The fuck you lookin at?”

Steve blinked, and stumbled back from Billy, releasing him. “You were gonna make me captain?”

“Well shit, not yet,” Billy replied. Asshole. “Still got another month left in me.”

“Jesus Christ, you know what I mean. Why were you being such a dick, then, Hargrove?”

Billy’s eyebrows climbed. “Try that again, Harrington.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Billy, who just looked back at him expectantly.

Gritting his teeth, Steve replied in his flattest tone, “Why were you being such a dick, Captain.”

A flash of pearly whites for his trouble, and a pat to the shoulder. “Couldn’t let you have my team before I knew you could handle it, now could I?”

“So what, all of this was just some sort of fucked up test?”

“Sure, if it helps you sleep at night.”

“You’re — I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Billy grinned at him again. Wolfish, just like it had been in high school, ready to close around Steve’s throat. “You want me to like you so bad.”

“Yeah because I want to be Captain, you ass—”

Those teeth that were designed to destroy Steve’s windpipe were suddenly digging into Steve’s bottom lip, which made it rather difficult to speak. It also fucking hurt. And was incredibly surprising. So if Steve made a completely undignified yelping sort of sound, it had nothing to do with Billy kissing him and everything to do with shock and pain.

Kissing back wasn’t quite so easily explained.

Honestly, Steve didn’t know why he did it. Billy really did piss him off. Maybe it was just the thrill of knowing it wasn’t all for nothing, the high of knowing he’d be captain next year. Maybe it was knowing Billy approved of him — not that Steve gave a shit about that. Maybe it was just that Billy was hot and Steve hadn’t slept with that girl at last week’s party because Billy had been better. Maybe Steve had wanted him since high school and just buried it under a thick layer of what an ass.

And truly, what an ass, as Billy tried to make Steve’s mouth bleed or something with how agressive he was being, and god finally getting to sink his fingers into the dense meat of Billy was beyond satisfying. There was something to be said for his gym rat behavior, since Steve’s hands could wrap and squeeze and dig into Billy’s biceps and ass and thighs like he could him right open.

Steve had just wrapped his hand up in Billy’s stupid hair and Billy had just dragged his tongue between Steve’s teeth when a door slammed somewhere in the gym.

Steve startled and jerked away, suddenly incredibly aware of their easily accessible location, not to mention the burning feeling in his face, the sting of his bitten mouth, the fingers that gone numb from wrapping Billy’s hair too tight around them. The aching straining tightening coiling way too fucking obvious in his basketball shorts, the matching mouthwatering visual in Billy’s and goddamn, Steve hated the idea of getting on his knees for someone like Billy Hargrove but he might just be able to do it for Billy Hargrove himself.

Billy was grinning again. Panting between his teeth.

“Well? Captain.”

And — that made Steve feel.

Something.

“Shut up,” Steve managed. Not sure what else to say.

Billy’s grin cracked impossibly wider. “What, you want me to tell you to make me? Cause even I’m not that cliche, Harrington, and – ”

And Jesus Christ, Steve just wanted him to stop fucking talking, so he grabbed him by the face and crushed their mouths back together. The quickest way to shut Billy Hargrove up, as it turned out, was to stick one’s tongue down his throat.

Their teeth clicked together, which was painful, as most things with Billy were. Billy hissed and shoved back a little, and they stumbled grasping and yanking into the shower room.

Steve gave a breathless sort of laugh when they finally bumped to a stop, Billy shoved up against him and his back to a wall. Billy might as well have been feral, prowling up on Steve as he was, clawing his shirt off and gnawing on him, cornering and hunting him.

“Like to — fuck — play with your food, Captain?”

Billy groaned in response, shoving Steve harder against the wall, making him wince as his now-bare shoulders scraped against the shitty paint. “Forgot how to mouth off, Harrington?”

Steve laughed again, that same hysterical breathless definitely-not-a-giggle kind of laugh. “Gonna fuck some respect into me or what?”

“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” Billy replied, a low grating syrupy quality to his voice that went straight through Steve’s bloodstream like a hit. “If telling you you’re gonna be captain is all it took, I shoulda told you sooner.”

Steve huffed a little. “Yeah, right.”

“No, serious.” Billy pushed his shoulder again. Rough. Playful. “Already had it in my head it was gonna be you. Knew it months ago. Had to put on a good show, you know, really make sure so no one could say I was just playin old high school favorites. And maybe I liked pushin you around a little. But I’m serious. It’s been you, Harrington.”

And that made something uncomfortably warm swirl in Steve’s chest. Warmth wasn’t a feeling Steve wanted to associate with Billy Hargrove. Burning heat was good, scalding, melting flesh off bone. But something warm, cozy, blanket around his shoulders coffee in the rain — Steve couldn’t take that.

“Yeah, right,” he said again, quieter this time. Not defiant, just soft. Acceptance. Having Billy’s gorgeous blue eyes boring into his own made it hard to disagree. “Right.”

Billy must have felt it too, then — this warm curling thing between them — because he plastered the sharp grin back on, slicing through whatever fragile just slipped through the cracks. “Where were we?”

A slow smile crept back across Steve’s mouth in return.

“Wherever you want, Captain.”

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