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It's not like Billy couldn't have sex.
Sure, after That Party, after That Asshole and those frantic hookups afterwards with Nate and those two randos at the park, Billy might have felt a little gun-shy. A bit skittish. So disinterested in sex that he didn't even jack off for months. He had honestly thought that there was a chance that he would never want to have sex ever again. Never want to take his clothes off and let someone touch his bare skin again, especially below the waist.
Even when he had that crush on Chris Phelps, his thoughts never ventured beyond kissing. And after Billy had kissed him that one time, it's not like he fantasized about doing anything further.
Billy had sort of resigned himself to the idea that sex would never be a part of his life ever again. And if it ever did re-enter his life, he wouldn't enjoy it. He would enjoy getting attention from other men, but sex itself would be one of those "close your eyes and think of England" type of deals.
Until he moved to Hawkins and met Steve. And then it was like the hormonal flood gates had burst.
He and Steve fucked a lot. Like, a lot. After the first time they had sex, they could barely keep their hands off each other. Well, they could in school, at basketball practice, and anywhere else in public. But when they were alone in their cars or in Steve's bedroom, it was like they were opposite magnets, attracted to each other in the most natural way and desperate to attach themselves to the other.
Steve was goddamn fantastic at sex. Even when they were having a quickie in the car, he knew all the right ways to touch Billy. Steve had figured out early on where he was most sensitive and exactly how to exploit the hot spots. He knew that Billy loved it when he kissed and bit his neck and that kissing the skin behind his ear made him shiver. Knew that he only liked a little bit of nipple stimulation because too much was uncomfortable. Knew that it turned Billy on when Steve got a little rough with him—when Steve smacked his ass and pulled his hair and pinned his wrists down as he fucked him hard, growling take it all, you little slut in his ear.
In turn, Billy was also quick to learn Steve's body. Knew exactly how hard to pull his hair when they were making out. Knew that Steve loved it when Billy made eye contact with him when he was blowing him. Knew exactly how to arch his back and move his hips when he rode him and knew that Steve, romantic that he was, would fall apart whenever Billy would interlace their fingers and moan in his ear. Knew that Steve honest-to-god loved being rough with him but wouldn't be unless Billy provoked him, like he needed permission or something.
They always cuddled after sex. If they were in the car, it wouldn't be much; just some light caresses over their clothes and a few kisses before they had to separate. If they were in Steve's house, they were able to wrap their bare limbs around each other and kiss softly and slowly.
It was nice. Even before That Party, Billy never imagined that he would be able to share those soft post-sex moments with someone.
Steve changed that. Steve changed a lot of things for Billy. So naturally, Billy thought that being with Steve could make him get over what had happened to him.
"Steve c'mon," Billy panted. "I'm fuckin' ready."
"You sure?" Steve teased, pumping two fingers in and out of Billy's hole tortuously slow. "'Cause I can do this all day, baby."
Steve lightly dragged a finger across Billy's prostate, making him keen high in his throat.
"Please, baby," Billy begged. "Want that big dick in me."
"Which big dick?" Steve smirked. He withdrew his fingers and quickly put a condom on. "Just anyone's big dick?"
Billy huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.
"Just yours," he giggled. He leaned up to kiss him, loving the way that Steve cupped his face as he deepened the kiss.
They started in missionary, with Billy on his back. With his legs wrapped around Steve's waist as he rocked his hips up to meet Steve's thrusts. Steve licked up the line of Billy's neck, making him shiver.
"God, harder," Billy gasped.
"Yeah?" Steve groaned in his ear. He grabbed a fistful of Billy's hair, giving it a firm tug, and snapping his hips hard. Billy moaned.
Steve pulled out abruptly. Billy whined. Then Steve quickly flipped Billy over. Billy automatically started to lift his hips to brace himself on his knees; Steve pushed him down again, so that he was laying on his stomach, and then pushed his cock into his hole again. He immediately started thrusting again, rougher this time.
Billy felt a small knot forming in his belly. He ignored it. Focused on Steve groaning in his ear as he pounded into him.
"God, you feel so good," Steve gasped.
"Yeah," Billy breathed automatically.
For the first time in their relationship, Billy hoped that Steve would finish quickly. He felt claustrophobic. He wanted to roll over on his back or sit up.
Suddenly, without any warning, Steve wrapped a hand around the back of Billy's neck as he continued to fuck him hard. And then everything just...fell apart.
Billy's mind went back to That Party back in June. Back to That Asshole. It was only for a second at first. But then Billy couldn't not think about it. Couldn't think of anything other than the maroon sheets he had been pressed against. Couldn't think of anything else besides That Asshole holding him down by the back of his neck and how his breath stank as he said into Billy's ear what's the matter, little boy? I thought you liked to party.
Billy didn't want to think about this. He never wanted to think about this. He had finally reached a point where thoughts about That Asshole weren't creeping into his mind every day. He thought he was over this.
Steve kept thrusting into him. Billy couldn't move. That Asshole's voice echoed in his head, ordering him to settle down.
What's the matter, little boy? I thought you liked to party.
Billy felt Steve's hand tighten around his neck. Or maybe it just seemed like it had.
You don't want anyone coming in here, do you?
He tasted off-flavored beer in the back of his throat. His limbs felt numb.
Cool it.
His airways felt tight. He felt like he couldn't breathe.
Settle down.
"Billy? Baby, are you okay?"
Slowly, Billy noticed that Steve had stopped fucking into him. He wasn't even on top of him anymore. Billy unconsciously peeled himself up into a seated position.
“Billy, can you hear me?”
Billy felt himself nod. He could hear Steve; that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Billy couldn’t stop the thoughts and the fragmented memories bouncing around in his head. They ricocheted around and around, getting louder and faster like metal balls in a pinball machine. And the problem
what’s wrong little boy
was that his entire body was tensed up, from the top of his skull to his toes. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around his legs. He dug his nails into the skin of his calf. His
I thought you liked to party
jaw felt tight. He tried to curl up into himself even tighter.
“Can I touch you?” Steve asked softly.
Billy’s head shook no tightly and frantically.
“Okay,” Steve said. He kept his voice soft and even. “That’s okay. You look cold; do you want my hoodie?”
Billy didn’t notice until then that he was shivering and shaking. He nodded. Steve got off the bed and grabbed his hoodie from the floor, where Billy had tossed it only a few minutes before after tearing it off of him.
Steve stood in front of Billy and held the hoodie out. He waited until Billy was able to unwrap his arms from his legs to take it. He waited patiently as Billy slowly and laboriously pulled it on, with the hood over his head. Once the hoodie was on, Billy curled back up into a ball. Steve sat down next to him again. Billy pressed his nose against the sleeve and took several deep breaths.
The hoodie smelled like Steve: a combination of his shampoo, his hairspray, his cologne, and his own natural scent. The smell grounded him, removing him from the then—the then of a stranger’s bed with a hand around the back of his neck—and anchoring him to the now—the now of the familiarity of Steve’s room and Steve’s bed. The now of Steve sitting next to him; Steve who had never hurt him, Steve who made him feel safe, Steve who wasn’t touching him for the sole reason that Billy had asked him not to.
Billy slowly shifted to lie down. He put his head in Steve’s lap and curled up again.
Steve hesitantly moved a hand to be right within Billy’s reach and sight. Billy shakily grabbed it with his own. He closed his eyes as tears started to fall.
"Oh, baby," Steve said softly. Billy's breath hitched.
"Did I hurt you?" Steve asked.
Billy shook his head no.
"Can you talk to me?" Steve asked. He sounded like he was about to start crying too. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"
Billy shook his head again. Fucking pussy, he berated himself, you should be over this by now.
He felt Steve lightly touch his head through the fabric of the hood.
"Is this okay?" Steve asked.
Billy squeezed his hand and nodded.
They stayed there for...Billy didn't even know how long. Enough time that he was able to get his thoughts straight and stop crying.
"I need to get going," he muttered, getting up. He started to pull his pants back on and picked his shirt up off the floor. He kept Steve's hoodie on.
"Okay," Steve said quietly. "Are you good to drive?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Billy said. He couldn't bear to look Steve in the eye.
Steve walked Billy to the front door.
"I love you," Steve said. Like he was saying it to remind Billy that he did.
"I love you, too," Billy said.
"You sure you're not hurt?" Steve asked. "I just...shit, babe, I've never seen you like that. I don't even know what happened—"
"I'm fine," Billy cut him off.
Steve didn't look at all convinced. Billy gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"I'm fine," he said again. "See you at school tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," Steve joked lamely.
They weren't alone together again until Wednesday.
Steve and Billy had agreed that day to meet at Sattler's Quarry after school. It was familiar turf; he and Billy and Nancy and Jonathan hung out there sometimes. To smoke pot, to stargaze, to talk about monsters and devise plans for the next time one reared its ugly head.
Before the Upside Down, Steve used to go there with Tommy and Carol to light firecrackers and shotgun brewskis and talk shit about people low on the social totem pole. People like Jonathan.
That past Saturday, Jonathan had spent four hours helping Steve make a mixtape to give to Billy for Valentine's Day.
Tommy would have never done that. In all honesty, Steve didn't think that he would have ever told Tommy that he and Billy were together if they had remained friends. At any rate, he certainly never told Tommy about the guys he had slept with when he was on that Euro trip the summer before last.
Steve used to think that he would miss Tommy if their friendship ever ended. After all, Tommy had been his best friend for years. But now that they weren't friends, Steve was able to realize that Tommy was never really a great friend to begin with.
Steve parked his car next to Billy's at the quarry. Through the window, he saw that Billy was still inside, lighting up a cigarette. After that day at Steve's house, after Billy had had that..what? panic attack?...Billy had been kind of standoffish. Only a little bit, but enough that Steve could tell that something was still bothering him. Steve tapped on the glass, getting his attention before letting himself in.
"Hey," Steve said. Billy didn't answer, but he held out his pack of cigs, offering Steve one. He accepted it; Billy lit it for him.
They smoked quietly for a few moments. Billy looked like he hadn't slept. He turned his head to look at him. For a second, he looked like he was about to say something, but then he turned away from him again. Steve's stomach twinged with nerves. He knew, deep in his gut, that Billy was about to tell him something awful.
Panic attacks didn't come out of nowhere. And Billy had had one when they were having sex. It didn't take a genius to work out that there was probably some trauma in that area.
Billy finished his cig and lit up another one. Steve was going to have to speak first. His boyfriend had trouble talking about his feelings; Steve knew by now that if they needed to talk about something real, he would have to coax Billy out of his shell.
"What's going on, baby?" Steve asked as gently as he could.
Billy took a deep breath before speaking.
"I went to this party last summer," he began quietly. "This college party at a frat house. It was stupid, I shouldn't have gone. This...this guy that I was hooking up with said he would be there and told me I could come, so I went. It was so stupid. The guy didn't even show up. Or if he did, I didn't see him there."
Billy took another drag.
"Anyway, there was this guy there. At the party," he continued, not looking at Steve. "Some...fratty lacrosse douche. We talked for, like, a minute and then he got me a drink."
Billy paused for a second.
"I...I think he might have put something in it? Like, I think he put something in my drink?"
Steve's mouth went dry. He was pretty sure that he knew exactly where this was going.
"'Cause, like...one minute I was downstairs at the party and the next minute I was in someone's bed," Billy said, his pace quickening, like he just wanted to get the words out as fast as possible. "Like, I was lying face-down on someone's bed and that guy was, like, on top of me and, like, telling me to be quiet and...and to stop moving...and so I did. Like, I didn't want to, but I...I did anyway and...and I don't know, I...I let him fuck me. I guess? Like...I didn't want to."
Billy took a shaky breath and looked up at Steve. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Steve felt like he had been doused with freezing cold water.
"Steve, I didn't want to have sex with him, okay? Like, I didn't even know his name and...and he was, like, holding me down, so I just, like, let him do it...I didn't want to..."
"I believe you," Steve cut in quickly. "Billy, baby, I believe you."
Billy took some more shaky breaths and wiped his tears away. Steve reached over the center consul to rub his back. He wished they were having this conversation in his room so that he could hug and hold his boyfriend properly without anything between them.
"I shouldn't have gone to that party," Billy said. "And I shouldn't have even talked to that guy."
"That guy shouldn't have done that to you," Steve gently pointed out.
Billy didn't respond to that. He leaned over a bit to get closer to Steve.
"He held me down by my neck," he said softly. "Like, his hand was around the back of my neck the whole time he was fucking me."
It disturbed Steve to no end that Billy was using the word "fucking" when there was a much more accurate word to describe what had happened to him.
"I just...I can't be held down like that," Billy said. "Like...on Sunday, I was having a good time, but as soon as I was, like, in that position, I couldn't stop thinking about it."
"I'll never do it again," Steve promised immediately. "I promise. I will never touch you like that again."
"Thanks," Billy offered him a small smile.
"I got tested," he added suddenly. "Like, two weeks after it happened, I went to this clinic and got checked out. He didn't give me an STD or anything. In case you were worried."
"That's really smart that you did that," Steve said. He brushed his hair back with his fingers.
Steve would never tell anyone this, but there was a part of him that was relieved. Obviously it wasn't the situation that gave him relief. Of course not; his boyfriend had been raped. Some piece of shit had attacked and violated Billy in the most hideous way imaginable. Steve wanted to hunt that fucker down and bash his skull in over and over again with his bat, to get justice for Billy and also to prevent that asshole from ever doing something like that again.
The relief came from the fact that before he learned what had really happened, Steve had thought that maybe Billy's father had done something to him.
So. Steve was relieved that even though Neil Hargrove was a piece of shit child beater, he was not an incestuous pervert on top of it.
He was relieved that Billy's attacker was a random stranger and not someone that he was legally and genetically bound to. That in all likelihood, Billy would never again cross paths with the man who assaulted him, which was probably much, much easier than having to live with him.
Steve would never voice this sense of relief.
He gently kissed Billy on the lips.
"Thanks for not, like, totally freaking out," Billy teased, the corners of his lips pulling into a small smirk.
"Fuck off, I do not freak out," Steve teased back. He lightly pinched Billy's waist, where he was sometimes ticklish. Billy let out a short laugh and squirmed away from his fingers.
Billy had never told anyone about what happened to him at That Party. He had never planned to. He figured it would be one of the many things he would take to the grave. But now, he felt like he owed it to Steve to tell him. And maybe he also owed it to himself.
Billy didn't tell Steve everything.
He didn't tell him that after that night, he had been in so much pain that he couldn't bring himself to take a shit for a week, and when he finally did, he had been so backed up he was surprised he didn't tear himself open.
He didn't tell him about hooking up with Nate or those two random men at the park.
He didn't tell Steve that at the clinic, he gave the receptionist Amy's phone number to call when his test results were in because he couldn't risk taking a call from the Lesbian and Gay Men's Community Center at his own house.
He didn't tell Steve that even though he showered every day, he never felt one-hundred-percent clean. That even if he drank holy water, he would still feel tainted.
He didn't tell Steve that he still got nightmares about it sometimes.
But. He did tell Steve what had happened. What That Asshole did to him. It wasn't a magic cure. Billy didn't feel a tidal wave of relief afterwards. He didn't feel better afterwards.
But...he was able to sleep just a tiny bit easier that night.