04

92 5 2
                                    

(Note: I don't know what i'm doing... just doing stuff to do it at this point)

Chapter 04- A memory from which I shall not escape.

"This is for me," Steve sighed out, as he turned Billy's face towards his own. He looked directly into Billy's eyes and felt even more turned on by how gone he looked.

His eyes were teary, and wide and—

"This is for me. Not for you. For me."


"No way we're watching that!" Billy grumbled, pushing his body further into the couch in a sort of protest.

Steve rolled his eyes, "I have the remote, I get to choose what to watch."

"How is that fair, your taste in movies is shit.." Billy said, his gruff voice not too serious.

And the way he almost seemed... playful... made Steve spiral.

"How would you even know?"

Billy raised one of his thick eyebrows, looking at Steve like he had the word IDIOT written on his forehead. "You may not pay attention to me when we hang out with the little bastards but I do." Billy said lowly, "Pay attention to you, I mean."

"And if there's one thing I learned," He reached over the couch, snatching the remote out of Steve's hand, " Is that you have a shitty taste in.... almost everything."

Steve stared, for a hard second, he just stared.

Billy changed the TV station.

Steve stared.

And then he reached over to grab the remote again. Billy could see him lean forward and he pulled back just as Steve was about to take it back.

They were close now. Closer than before.

Closer than they've gotten since that day a year ago.

Steve flushed. He could feel how his own breath grazed Billy's skin. And he was reminded again of back then.

He looked into Billy's eyes, glossy and wide and gone.

They were lost. Confused. Nothing made sense and nothing seemed to align or correlate.


"This is bullshit!" Steve yelled, throwing his head in his hands. This was beyond fucked. He didn't know how he could let it get this bad.

"It's not! Why? Why are you saying that!?" Billy was on his knees, sitting in front of him, trying desperately to lock eyes.

This was beyond fucked.

This wasn't Billy. Not the one everyone else knew, not the one he knew.

He thought that they were on the same page.

"I can't do this— I just can't, it's not right." Steve grumbled, standing up from where he sat at the edge of Billy's bed.


Steve pulled away first.

"Don't." Billy whispered. But Steve couldn't help it.

It was wrong. He knew. It felt wrong. It felt like a dirty burden he didn't want to carry.

They had been here before. Like this. Steve teetering on the edge of giving in and backing out and Billy bearing himself to him, the most vulnerable he could ever be.

Steve felt like he was going insane because why him? What had he done to make Billy feel like this.

He knew the look Billy was giving him right now so he avoided eye contact. He knew he couldn't take it.

"Don't." Billy repeated. His voice cracking slightly.

Steve felt heat burn in the pit of his stomach.

Billy grabbed the hem of Steve's sweater and pulled.

"This isn't right."

"Why?"

Steve didn't reply. He felt like he could vomit. He felt sick, he felt sick because in this moment, all he wanted was to listen to Billy. To do as he asked.

It was only the second night they were here together. Only the first day yet somehow, they had managed to go on the most uncomfortable rollercoaster of feelings- ever.

"I've never hated you," Billy whispered, "They think that's why I'm like this— but I've never hated you."

Steve was gone too. He couldn't help himself. He never could.

He locked eyes with Billy, "I know."

"I.." Steve paused, his breath was stuck in his throat and his chest was on fire.

He couldn't speak. The words he wanted to say wouldn't leave his mouth and before he knew it their lips were pressed against each other.

It burned, it burned and the pain was familiar and disappointingly welcome.

He didn't stop it, or push Billy away. Instead he let the grip Billy had on his sweater guide him closer.

Their bodies were pressed together on the small couch, it was cold but hot and they were lucid but at the same time it felt like a dream.

He didn't want to, but he had missed the way this felt.

Billy laid down on the couch, bringing Steve down with him, his head pressed against the arm rest, and his knees separated to let Steve lay close.

He let out a moan that made Steve groan into his mouth. He pulled back and panted into his mouth. His arms caged Billy's head.

"At least do it for yourself." Billy mumbled, his eyes teary.

It was an invitation. But he didn't want to do it for himself.

He knew he couldn't.

secluded | harringroveWhere stories live. Discover now