Once I was inside all the douchebags started ragging on me about being held back a year - calling me all kinds of names. I marched through the kitchen for a drink, where Steve was doing the same thing. I think it was the alcohol that made me bold enough to tease him, "What's wrong Harrington, not getting enough attention from the ladies?" Steve's voice was monotonous and sulky when he responded, "Go fuck yourself Munson." Before disappearing into the crowd. After knocking back a couple more drinks and pissing off a few more people, left through the back door and walked towards the lake, guided by the moonlight. I heard a guttural moaning in the trees like someone was trying not to scream. I found Harrington sitting on a tree stump facing the lake, head in his hands. I may have been drunk and I may have had absolutely no pleasant feelings about Harrington whatsoever - but I wasn't a prick and he looked like he needed help. I approached him as I would a scared deer in the woods, and he froze just like a deer in headlights. "Uh, you good?" I fumbled the words out . "Stellar thanks. Fuck off Munson." Steve has replied briskly. Holding my hands up as I walked over to him I said ,"Love to but if you're gonna off yourself in the lake and I'm the last person to have been seen talking to you, I'm getting blamed for murder." Steve snorted leaned back, elongating his body, in the moonlight I could see the veins in his arms bulging beneath his skin. "Obviously I'm not gonna off myself." He mumbled. We sat in a strange silence for a while, the cool night air sobering us both up a little. Eventually I looked up at the moon and asked, "So what's the matter then? It's not like either of us will really remember this conversation tomorrow - you may as well talk to me."
Steve considered for a second, "Ever feel like your life is going nowhere?" he mumbled. I laughed out loud at this and Steve whipped his head up to scowl at me. "All the fucking time Harrington. I'm being held back in my senior year, I'm the freak of Hawkins High, and I live in a glorified bread bin." I said candidly. Steve pondered this and responded quietly, "Things aren't so great on the flipside y'know." Not believing anything could be so horribly wrong in Steve Harrington's life I chuckled and shook my head in disbelief. Steve bounced to his feet and clenched his fists, "You have no fucking idea Munson," Steve growled. "Enlighten me then, dick." I dared him. "I've had my ass handed to me more times than I can count in the last couple years alone - been hit on the head so many times I have this tinny sound in my ears all the time." Steve began pacing whilst talking, "My dad's a pig - treats my mom like crap and she just let's him get away with cheating because he apologises and takes her on fancy trips. My 'friends' lost interest in me the second I stopped serving them and acting like an asshole to impress them." Steve was still pacing and I was beginning to actually feel bad for him. "The only girl I've ever actually felt something for and been interested in fucking cheated on me with Jonathan fucking Byers - but she doesn't think it was cheating. I didn't get into any colleges and now ill be stuck here forever." Steve flopped to the ground when he finished ranting.
I joined him on the hard cold ground, clearing my throat, "My mom killed herself when I was 10 because she couldn't handle my dad abusing her anymore. My uncle does his best but he's hardly around because of his job. The only person I've ever been really into is in a relationship with the new alpha male of Hawkins High. Loneliness is a bitch Steve Harrington." I mumbled and didn't notice staring at me the entire time. We accidentally made prolonged eye contact with him when I lifted my head. "That sounds awful." was all Steve said. Another silence followed but we kept making awkward eye contact. "There's a lotta chicks in there - surely you could get your kicks with one of them?" I finally broke the silence. Steve pondered for a moment and lifted his head back, exposing his throat as he looked at the moon. "They're all so...boring. None of them interest me." Steve whispered. Wanting to wrap up the conversation because the cold was biting through my skin, I tried to make a joke, "Maybe you're not as straight as you think then; only a twink would pass the chance to bone any of the girls in that house." Steve hadn't raged like I expected him to, or even hit me. He just sat there on the ground, head dipped. I almost thought I'd imagined it when he'd said, "Maybe you're right. Fuck." Too stunned to walk away I stayed glued to the spot where I'd just pulled myself up from the ground, looking down at Steve. "Hey man, no judgements here." I tried to tell him as he slowly climbed to his feet. "The rumour's true then? The one about you and that kid from summer camp?" Steve's hands dug into his pockets when he asked me the question that made my heart drop. "Yeah, kinda. He kissed me first though. Hooking up in the mess hall after midnight was his idea too. Of course no one believes that because he was the one who blabbed about it first and called me a predator." My voice sounded pained as I recounted my first homosexual experience in summer camp after before Sophomore year.
"That sucks." Steve said. I started turning away to walk home when Steve called out to me, "You're not half bad Munson," grabbing my attention, I spun to face him again in time to hear him say, "Could - Could you maybe help - help me test it." Steve's voice was hoarse. "Test it?" I questioned, confused. We only stood a couple inches apart, and I heard him whisper, "The reason I'm not interested in those girls." My brain turned to mush for a second, doubting whether he was being sincere or just trying to lure me into an evil prank. The torn and pained expression on his pale face told me I was incorrect. I gulped, running a hand through my knotted hair. It was definitely the alcohol that made me think 'fuck it' as I leaned forward and kissed Steve Harrington on the lips. Again, he didn't hit me or rage at me. He simply stood there, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. I backed away. One of Steve's hands snatched my wrist to stop me, then he leaned forward and kissed me. Steve Harrington was a shockingly good kisser. We stood there for a few minutes, less than an inch between us, his hand on my wrist and our lips moving against each others. He stunk of beer and so did I. Things got more heated when I heard a tiny moan in Steve's throat which instantly turned me on. I broke us apart and searched for a sign on his face to continue; Steve let go of my wrist and gripped my head between his hands instead, pulling me back to him for more kissing. My hands grabbed his shoulders, our feet banged together and I felt my knee buckle. We fell to the ground, looking at each other, both unable to read the other's face. For the first time I was letting myself consider how attractive Steve was - not usually my type at all but right now he was killing me. I lunged forward to kiss him again and he met me halfway, rolling onto his back with his nails digging into my jacket. We made out for a little longer, every time he moved beneath me my stomach swirled and my jeans felt tighter.
Eventually Steve knocked me to the side and mounted me, moonlight lit up his silhouette. With one hand in the ground above my head and one on my chest, I felt Steve grind his hips down onto mine. My hips bucked back up into his in immediate response. He exhaled heavily against my face. We remained like that, on the dirty cold ground, clashing our mouths together and rutting against each other, feeling each other get hard from the friction. I trailed my hand down to his jeans, lightly stroking the bulge in his crotch. A moan escaped his throat and I took it as an invitation to palm him quickly. Steve stopped kissing me, looking at my face as he put his own hand over my semi and began moving it in the same motions I was doing on him. I moved my hands back to his shoulders and pushed Steve back up onto his knees. We stared at each other in silence, then Steve started palming himself over his jeans. My dick twitched as I watched. I leaned forward grabbing at his belt buckle and fumbling the jeans open. Steve didn't stop me, just breathed heavily. I stroked his erection over the boxers and felt his body judder. Steve fell back again and I hovered above him. "Could you - blow me?" Steve asked, pleasure and pain tearing his words apart. I was incredibly turned on right now. I did a quick scan of the woods around us, making sure no one was around. I dipped my head and lifted Steve's dick from his boxers - the ladies of Hawkins High hadn't been exaggerating about one thing at least. Wasting no time, I closed my mouth around the tip and flicked my tongue around it a little, waiting for Steve to push me away. He didn't. He struggled to breath properly and and lifted his hips to push further into my mouth, quietly moaning. I moved my head back and forth, sucking Steve and running my tongue along the large vein on the underside of his shaft. Steve's hands were suddenly in my hair, pulling me away. I panicked. "Don't you dare deny you liked that." I spat at him.
Steve gulped and kissed me again, sliding his hand under my waistband, popping the jeans button and passing beneath my boxers. Steve had given me one of the best handjobs of my life in those woods by the lake. We fooled around but he didn't blow me. After a while we sat facing each other, our hair sticking up and clogged with dirt. "Thanks Munson." Was all Steve said as he fastened his jeans and stood up. I rose to my feet and clicked my tongue, "Pleasure doing business with you, Harrington." I replied shortly. Before we went our separate ways without looking back, Steve twisted his hands in his shirt and said, "Maybe we could do that again sometime." Later on I finished myself off in my bedroom, plenty of material in my mind to play with. I don't know why but a stupid naïve part of me thought this would be the start of some kind of fling with Harrington. I was wrong. The next day I saw him with his arm round some chick walking into the movie theatre. He saw me across the street and gave me a barely visible nod, but his eyes told me he was embarrassed that I'd seen him.