Steve watched Billy take off like a bullet, dive for the ball, rock back onto his feet and snap his arm in a rocket fast pass. Steve ran and jumped, sliding on his chest to catch Billy's pass. It landed solidly in his glove.
Two outs.
He stood shakily, returning to the pitcher's mound.
Tommy. Eyes narrowed as the asshole strutted to the batter's square. Tapped his shoes with the bat, pointed past the fence to signal a homerun before smirking at Steve.
Steve wound up, inhaled. Glared Tommy dead in the eyes.
Eat my dick. Steve thought before pushing the entirety of his body into the pitch. Baited breath for the split second where Tommy swung. Narrowly avoided crowing when the ball landed dead center the catcher's glove.
Billy stood, dropping the ball in shock. The field was silent for a heavy moment until Billy grinned wild, fists pounding his chest.
"We won!" He screamed, earring flashing, hair sweaty and matted as he pulled off the helmet.
"What?" Tommy looked genuinely offended.
"Suck it." Billy held up a proud middle finger as he and the rest of their team swarmed Steve, only to be held off by Coach.
"A perfect game." The awe in his voice quieted the unruly crowd. "You pitched a perfect game."
Steve swallowed, "I've been told I just picked the wrong sport." He shrugged, catching Billy's stunned gaze, ducking his head to hide the growing blush.
"Tomorrow I want you batting." Coach demanded.
Steve felt the giddy excitement drain from his body as he nodded. "Okay."
"That's the part he's good at." Billy assured with that damn smile, arm swinging around Steve's shoulders, gum chewing loudly, visibly.
Steve fought to not inhale, struggled to break free from Billy.
"Get washed up and get to your next class." Coach commanded, voice still dazed.
"Harrington." Billy's arm tightened. "I told you baseball was your thing."
Steve nodded, feeling dizzy. "How'd you-"
"I saw your moves with that sick bat." Billy brought his other hand around, jostling Steve awkwardly as he swung the imaginary version of Steve's go-to weapon.
Steve paled. Billy's skin stuck to him, the smell of his sweat made Steve feel nearly drunk. Hand reached up to pry Billy off him. But fingers just rested on the too warm skin.
It dawned on Steve that Billy was always incredibly warm. Like some of that SoCal sun fell in love with its token hot head and decided to take residence just under his skin.
"Some Icarus shit." Steve murmured, fingertips grazing down Billy's forearm before realizing what he was doing. Snapping to attention with Billy's breath tickling his ear, blue eyes glued to him, blown wide, too close.
Painfully aware of how alone they were.
Except for Tommy.
One angry, stalking closer Tommy.
"Hey Harrington!" And the casual pace picked up to a run.
Steve turned to look as fist raised. Automatically he flinched, eyes squeezed shut. But when the sound of flesh hitting flesh came there was no pain. Steve opened his eyes to see Billy standing between them, face wide in that crazy grin.
"The fuck you doing, Tommy?" Head tilted, arms dropped from around Steve.
"Wha-" Tommy raised his hands in defense. "I-I didn't mean to-"
YOU ARE READING
Dumpster Fire
FanfictionSteve Harrington really just wants life to stop being so difficult. His stupid job. Senior year. Trying to find a halfway decent college. Life, though. Fucking life just had to throw Billy goddamn Hargrove into the mix.
