If I Stare Too Long

Chapter 11: Working Double Time (On The Seduction Line)

It becomes a pattern, of falling asleep and waking up at Steve's house. Sometimes Billy does take the guest room, surrendering to the creature comforts and expensive mattresses that the Harrington kingdom holds.

Billy sleeps better at Steve's than in the trailer—and it seems like Munson does too, given the way he's always hitching a ride on the back of Billy's bike and staying until morning.

Steve works. Eddie deals. And Billy—probably should get a job, but he's still working through the juicy government hush money. Which means that he's bored. Has time to kill. Can stay up late and waste the day away.

Even when Steve's busy, Billy always finds himself occupied with Eddie. Days filled up with him. Billy's either pounding on the door of Eddie's trailer the second Wayne leaves for work, or Eddie's letting himself into the Mayfield trailer, trying to bum a ride to the store, distracting Billy with kisses before they can even leave.

It feels dangerous. Addictive. But Billy can't keep his hands off, Eddie. Not even a little bit. It's gotten hard, being around Steve when Eddie's around.

Eddie doesn't help, always teasing Billy, making comments, and driving him up the wall.

Today's no different. All day, Eddie's been teasing him, taunting him, leaving Billy high and dry. Steve's barely left the fucking room and Eddie is already on him, big hand on one of Billy's ankles, thumb circling and circling the jut of bone there as he sneaks his way across the couch to where Billy's got his back to one of the armrests, his feet in front of him.

They're warm from being out back in Steve's pool all day, hair damp but mostly dried by now. Eddie's got some pink on his nose, and he's in one of Steve's old basketball shirts and his sweats because he goaded Billy into pushing him into the pool in his clothes earlier– a truly clever way to get himself in some of Steve's clothes again. The shirt is tight in the chest and the shoulders, and Billy's been wanting to get his fingers under the stretch of cotton since they came back inside.

Billy would stop him– should stop him– but he's too damn caught by dark eyes and a firm grip. But Steve is upstairs and Billy can hear the shower turn on. But Eddie's tongue is caught between his teeth, face stretched in a grin, and Billy wants.

"Watch yourself, Munson," he says, half-hearted at best.

"Come on, sunshine," Eddie breathes, creeping closer across the couch. "Let's just make out a little."

Eddie moves like a predator—but Billy isn't prey. He watches Eddie crawl closer and closer, eyes tracking Eddie's every movement until he gets close enough and Billy meets him halfway. He can't let Eddie win too easily, and that thought is what has Billy surging forward, toppling Eddie backward to straddle him, pushing him down against the plush cushions of the couch with his hands on Eddie's wrists.

"You're the fucking worst," Billy snaps. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

Eddie is easy under him, still grinning up at Billy's frown. His wrists flex a little, in Billy's grip, but when he finds it unyielding, he just gets his feet under him so that he can give a taunting rock of his hips up between the straddle of Billy's thighs.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Eddie says, and he doesn't look or sound like he's ever been sorry for anything ever. "Just can't help myself. Keep thinkin' about getting you off in Steve Harrington's living room while he's right upstairs. It's a terrible thought, I really should be ashamed."

"Munson, shut up," Billy hisses, but he can't escape the pull of Eddie's words—or maybe it's the tease of his hips because before Billy even knows it, he's leaning down to crash their lips together in a hungry kiss.