Don't Panic - B. Hargrove

NINE

After all, that happened, and in a situation like this, David didn't know how to feel or to think. It was like his brain was just a blissful fuzz. There was only the soft breath of Billy in his ears and the warmth of his arm on top of the tiny boy and its weight pressing down on him. Surprisingly, it was heavy enough for him actually to enjoy the feelings, but he sure as hell shouldn't.
He shouldn't be so intimidated by the boy in his bed and certainly not delighted by it. Billy Hargrove was an asshole. He was mean to Steve. He had called him weirdo just tonight. And yet... David liked him. Perhaps a little too much, and not how Billy felt about him. But when he looked at Billy and his chest gently moving up and down, he wished that could be different.

Billy stirred in his sleep, pulling himself closer, half his body now covering David's as if he was a pillow; hot breath was meeting the gentle skin on his cheek. The mixture of perfume, smoke, and Billy himself made the boy flush bright red. This whole situation made him realize so many things about himself.
Most importantly: he was definitely and exclusively into boys. Not a moment, he thought that laying with a girl would feel as good as Billy Hargrove felt sleeping on top of him, squishing him most deliciously and making his body feel almost too alive. He carefully turned his head to lay face to face with the other boy.

The dim light of moonshine coming through the broken blinds made Billy's features look soft and peaceful, like an old greek statue. A crunchy curl was falling over his closed eyelid with the fan of long, dark lashes. It was utterly irrational—all of it.
But being aware of it didn't make it less accurate. So David closed his eyes, feeling Billy's hand at his side sneaking under his shirt.

Billy Hargrove had slept like a dead and found himself waking up in the most comfortable position in a very long time. He didn't open his eyes; he just let himself simmer at the moment for a little longer.
Soft, warm skin was under his fingertips, and a tiny body was under his. He must have gotten lucky last night. The thrill of exploring blindly made his move, softly rubbing against the other body, and got a faint, sleepy hum in reply.
It didn't sound opposed to the idea of a second round, so Billy nuzzled his face into a warm neck, his lips brushing against the skin. That girl smelled amazing, ambrosial without a hint of perfume.
He gently licked and sucked the spot, and a smirk spread on his lips as he earned a voiceless moan that ringed in his ear like music.
He even went so far as to suck hard enough to leave a mark, and the little lady was very into it. So was Billy.His fingers dug hard into the skin over a hipbone, meeting the rim of jeans. Usually,  they hadn't any clothes left when he was done. The jeans was odd.But not enough for him to care.

He was wat to much into the little sounds of pleasure, the taste and smell and into the hand that had grabbed his biceps, almost pulling him in even more.And as his kisses wandered up while his hand wandered down the outside of the jeans, he lifted himself fully on top of the other, supporting his weight on the free hand causing a more than willing leg to curl around his hip.
He had finally found another pair of lips and devoured them hungrily.
He had completely underestimated the girls of Hawkins. This one tasted nothing like a cow. His hand roamed up again,  squeezing a plumb little ass before traveling over a flat belly, stroking over pronounced rips, and finally curling around a barely existing breast that perfectly fit into his palm.He preferred them flat-chested anyways.
Still, as much as he liked it there,his hand returned to its spot on the upper thigh, pulling the other body closer to his, both grinding against each more than eager to feel each other and... his eyes shot open as soon as he recognized what he was feeling between the other's legs. And in the single beam of afternoon sun that was hitting the bed, he was presented with  David Byers; lips swollen, starry-eyed, and cheeks flushed in a deep shade of pink. A boy. He had made out with a boy .

He jumped back as if he had burned himself. He somehow had. Memories of last night hit him all at once, telling him how he had gotten here.  They stared down at the boy as if he had seen a ghost. He wanted to scream and yell at him for making him do such things. But he couldn't.

Because I should have noticed. He had started.Last night he had known who he'd cuddled up to. It had been his instincts and desires taking over, which scared the living shit out of him. Billy Hargrove was not gay. He didn't enjoy kissing boys and making out with them. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. David pushed himself back against the rattan headboard, pulling his legs up under his chin, carefully peaking over them. He was waiting for Billy to explode. Fuck, Billy was waiting for himself to explode. But he couldn't.

"We never speak of this again!" he found himself telling the other boy, who nodded.
"Never." Billy emphasized as he ran a hand through his hair to fix it. "Never." David echoed quietly.
He still sounded out of breath, ringing strangely in his ears.

"I'm heading home. I'm still a little drunk." Billy broadened his shoulders while trying to shrug off the thoughts that were popping up in his mind and trying to convince his brain of the lie. He needed some fresh air, a cigarette to wipe his mind blank.

But to get there, he'd have to make it out of the house. Without waiting for an answer from the boy, he opened the door and strutted outside. Luckily, there didn't seem to be anyone around, and he got out of the front door without much trouble.

Only as he approached his car could he feel a stare on his back, and as he glanced over his shoulder, he could make out the other Byers twin observing from his window. Billy frowned at him.  Had he heard them? Did he know what Billy had been up to with his little brother?
He climbed into his car, immediately starting the engine and putting a cigarette from the stack on his dashboard in his mouth, deciding he didn't care. People wouldn't believe Jonathan Byers when he started talking about Billx Hargrove being gay with his brother because he wasn't.
He was as straight as possible, having banged many girls back home, and none of them had turned out to be a dude. Well, none of them tasted or smelled like David Byers, either. But clearly, that had been the aftermath of the alcohol fogging his mind. He was always horny after a party. He'd just howled the wrong tree this time. That happened to the best.
And it would be best just to pretend it had never happened. To just move on without looking back. Happy with that idea, he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. He needed his head in the game. Basketball practice was tomorrow. Steve Harrington still needed to lose that crown. Harrington.
He could remember how David had been glued to that idiot. It must be the hair that made them all dig Steve. There wasn't much more to the boy.
At least nothing Billy hadn't. Yet, the target on the captain's back had just become bigger and redder, and Billy's mind was set on war.