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“So you’re not much of a partier, but you’re here anyway? Seems like maybe we were meant to bump into one another.”
The man is standing beside Steve at the bar, eyes sparkling, his mouth set into a confident smile; white, dentist-beloving teeth on display. He thinks his name might be Travis. His schtick isn’t very original—businessman, charming, probably slumming it in a club like this one so he seems even more successful in comparison. If the state of the Upside Down on a Saturday night is anything to go by, it would make his abundance of confidence make sense. Steve gives the man a courteous smile, a puff of air from his nostrils.
“Yeah, maybe.” The smile is tight-lipped.
“C’mon, you’ve gotta give me something here, sitting here all pretty by yourself, it’s not like I could help saying hello.”
Eh, it’s a line, that’s for sure. In actuality, Steve had just been waiting to order another drink before mystery man—maybe it was Trevor?—saddled up to the bar with a whole lot of nerve and a wallet full of bills he seemed set on making sure everyone could see him wave around. He’s definitely not from around here then, as being a little too pompous with cash in this section of Chicago could land you in a lot of trouble. Still, Steve can’t deny he’s kind of got a thing going on, even if it’s a little clumsy of an act. There’s probably plenty of younger, more persuadable twenty-somethings that would fall for it, hook, line, and sinker.
Steve’s circumstances, however, are a little different.
Regardless, Steve gives the man a laugh out of politeness.
“Well, I’m flattered, but I’m not sure I’m the one you’re looking for tonight. Sorry.”
“Oh don’t be shy, I won’t bite.” Travis-Trevor’s eyes are sparkling again.
“That’s good to hear, not sure I felt like busting my knuckles open on some suit’s jaw, but hey, the night’s still young.” A voice, low and steady, but no less menacing, rumbles from behind them.
Ah, the ‘circumstances’ in question.
The two of them shift in their seats to look behind them. Standing not a foot away—head of blond curls tilted to the side, ocean blue eyes piercing daggers through the air, and a lit cigarette dangling loosely from his upturned smile—was Billy Hargrove.
Correction. Steve’s very territorial and hot-tempered boyfriend, Billy Hargrove.
Ignoring Travis-Trevor’s confused glances, Steve slides off the stool and slips next to the blonde. Without shifting his gaze, Billy raises his arm to curl around his waist, hand placed firmly on his hip. Steve can’t help the fire that burns low in his gut at the gesture, he raises his jaw to Billy’s ear.
“Hi, baby.” The arm around his waist tightens its grip. For the first time, Billy’s eyes shift towards him, his eyes an intense blue, looking right into Steve’s soul, it makes him shiver. His boyfriend’s lips may be upturned in a grin, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.
“Hey, doll.”
Billy turns back to the man seated at the bar, whose eyes are now shifting back and forth between the two of them.
“Listen, I didn’t mean any trouble, just chatting. We were…just chatting.” His voice trails off, stifled by the weight of Billy’s gaze.
“Of course you didn’t.” The blonde’s tone is chipper, but venomous. “You look like an important guy, definitely not stupid enough to go sniffing around what’s not yours.”
Travis-Trevor swallows, hands fidgeting in his lap before slowly sliding off the stool and away from the bar in a hurry. Steve glances at Billy, seeing his jaw tense as his eyes scan the spot in the crowd where the man just disappeared.
“Ugh, finally. Really, I was just sitting here waiting to order and he came outta nowhere, asking me all these questions and using these god awful pickup lines, didn’t wanna take a hint. Thank you for saving me, baby.”
He reaches up to plant a kiss on the other boy’s cheek, but it barely makes contact as Billy moves away from him and begins walking in the opposite direction. He turned his head slightly back towards Steve as he did.
“I’m done for the night, don’t stay out too late.”
This startled him. Billy wasn’t usually the type to want to leave the bar early, that is, unless Steve wanted to.
“Wha—Bill, it’s only like half past eleven. Usually you and Heather are in the middle of a drinking contest by now.” He trailed off with a laugh, but it was half-hearted.
“Not really feelin’ it tonight. If you need a ride later, call me. Don’t walk home by yourself.” Billy put his hands firmly into the pockets of his jacket and stalked off towards their table, Steve following in a confused haze.
As they approached, he saw Robin and Heather seated at their little four top, talking lowly into each other’s ears in the loud roar of the club. Billy walked up briskly, snatched up his carton of cigarettes he must have left behind, and was off with a hurried ‘headin’ out for the night, have fun.’
The girls separated and looked at his retreating back, confused, before turning the same look back to Steve.
He looked at them, hands thrown in the air. He gathered up the light jacket he’d thrown over the back of his chair and waved a goodbye to the girls before speed walking to the entrance of the club.
Bursting out into the cold night air of Chicago in November was like splashing water on your face right after waking up. He looked around before catching the head of blonde curls retreating in the direction of the L, its tracks clanking loudly, competing with the sounds of people and music filling the air.
He pushes past a few groups of drunk people heading towards the club behind him, aiming to find the next destination for their bar-hopping journey of the night. As he nears Billy, walking with his hands in his pockets and head bowed, he reaches out to place his hand on the bigger man’s arm.
“Hey, babe. Hey.”
Billy doesn’t stop walking, but looks at him.
“Don’t let me ruin your night out, pretty boy, looked like you were having fun. I work early anyway.” The familiar nickname is comforting, but it lacks its usual luster.
“Billy, we both know you’re more of a partier than I am anyway, if it wasn’t for you or Rob I probably wouldn’t leave the house most nights. Plus, I know your schedule, you don’t go in until two tomorrow. What’s going on?”
Billy doesn’t speak, just continues to walk, hands in his pockets, refusing to regain eye contact. Steve walks alongside him, waiting a few minutes before huffing out a sigh and shoving his left arm through Billy’s right and putting his hands into his own pockets, walking to match his boyfriend’s brisk pace.
“Fine, be stubborn. But we’re talking when we get home.”
All he gets is half a snort.
They walk for another ten minutes before reaching the station they came from earlier that evening. After swiping their cards and standing on the platform, Steve steals a glance at Billy once more. The other boy’s gaze is still fixed downward, his jaw working tensely. From what Steve can see, his eyes seem a little red, but that could just be the light.
They board the train, finding two adjacent seats and sitting down. Before long, it rumbles into movement and begins sliding down the track. The car isn’t completely full, but there’s plenty of people on board. Lots of groups who look like their night is only just beginning crowd around one another in little clumps, along with a few pairs or single passengers here and there.
The ride isn’t long, only two stops and they’re ready to get off. As they shuffle off the platform and out of the station they’re met with the cold air once again. Two blocks later, they’ve reached the front door of their building; not a fancy complex by any means, but thankfully in an area that isn’t too expensive while still being walkable, with plenty of businesses and stores they’d usually be hitting up the morning after a night out like this.
Usually. Now, Steve’s not so sure.
They reach the second floor, and Steve’s reminded of the nightmare that was moving all of their shared furniture up these stairs almost two years ago. It’d just been the two of them, and it was a hot day, they’d both been getting increasingly irritated with the whole affair, and there’d been passive aggressive jabs and annoyed comments being made. That is, until their grip on the dining room table had slipped—likely from sweat, though Steve still refused to admit it—and it went sliding down the stairs before splintering into pieces at the bottom.
Whether it’d been the stress of the day or the absurdity of the situation, it didn’t matter. The boys looked at one another before bursting into hysterics, Steve sitting on the wooden stair and Billy bent over the banister to support himself, faces beat red and tears streaming down their faces. Their new downstairs neighbor Ms. Donovan had come out of her apartment in a hurry, and they’d introduced themselves as her new neighbors. She’d made it seem like she was annoyed, but introduced herself as Nora and gave them the info for a flea market a couple blocks down that they could replace the thing at the next day. She invited them in for iced tea shortly after, and had been a friendly face since then, her and her many, many cats.
Now, Steve walked past her door and wished that she’d come out and fix everything again, but her door remained shut.
On the third floor, Billy fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door, entering the apartment without a word, Steve just behind him. They lay their coats and such down on hooks or the table and Billy stalks into the kitchen, opening up the fridge and producing a beer, cracking it open and taking a sip.
In an effort to diffuse the tension, Steve jokes, “if you just wanted a beer, you coulda said so, might have saved us a trip.” He tries to laugh but it doesn’t come out.
Billy eyes him over the can before setting it down and walking into the bathroom and shutting the door. Steve sits down on the couch, anxiety built in his stomach. He didn’t like when Billy was upset, as he tended to be a little destructive—that is, with himself. Holding in his feelings until he gets too overwhelmed and has some sort of outburst; once, he’d even broken a vase in the apartment that Steve had brought home the day before. He’d stopped then, frozen, before tearing up and sinking to the ground.
Steve had sat down next to him as he shook with sobs, asking if it was okay to touch him. The blonde had just started crying harder, mumbling something incoherent. When Steve asked him to repeat it, he’d raised his head, tears streaking his cheeks.
“I’m just like him. I’m a monster, just like that bastard. He’s hundreds of miles away and I can’t get him to leave me the fuck alone.”
Steve’d draped his arm over him then, pulling him close, telling him that wasn’t true.
“You’re nothing like him, because he would never care like this. He never cared about hurting anyone, especially you. You care so much, even if you don’t want anyone to know, you’re nothing like him, Bill. Look,” he’d gestured out towards the porcelain shards, “it’s just a vase, we can clean it up, easy as pie, and I can make you some food, sound good?”
Billy had sniffed, nodded, and they had done just that.
They hadn’t had anything like that happen in over a year, so Steve was even more surprised. Now, he sat on the couch, hoping Billy was okay.
His thoughts are answered when the door opens and Billy returns to the kitchen. Steve stands and takes a few steps towards the boy.
“Billy, please. What’s going on?”
Without looking at him, Billy let out a small scoff. “Nothing, I don’t know why you came back, you didn’t need to. Really, you shoulda just stayed out with the girls.”
“And leave you to come back here and stew in whatever this is all night? No way. I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you if I did.”
“Seemed like you’d have enough going on to forget about me for a bit.”
“What? What does that even mean?”
He thinks for a moment and it dawns on him, as unlikely as he thought it could be.
“Oh my god, you're kidding me. Is this about that guy at the bar? Billy, I can’t even remember his name, are you seriously pissed at me about that? What, do you think I was flirting with him or something? You really think I’d do that?”
Billy said nothing as he stood at the counter, only raising his shoulders in a shrug.
“No, don’t do that. You know I wouldn’t do that. You think after all this time I’ve still got my eyes out for someone else? Billy there is no someone else for me, it’s not like I’m cheating on you. You don’t think that, right?”
Billy sighed, lowering his head some.
“No, Steve, I don’t think that.”
“Okay, so how about you tell me what you’re thinking instead.”
His boyfriend was silent for a moment, before taking a deep breath and shuffling into the living room to take a seat in the armchair near the window.
“I saw you go to the bar, and then I saw him show up, and I was pissed at first. Not at you, just at him for even thinking he had a chance. I was heading over to tell him to scram, but then, I looked at him a bit more, and I saw his fancy looking clothes and his perfect little undercut and I just…” He trailed off into silence.
“You just…what?”
“I just thought that he looked kind of like your dad.”
“What?”
Billy held both hands up. “Just—give me a second. He…reminded me of all those pictures of your dad I used to see at the mansion back in high school. All suits and nice watches and pocket squares and shit. Wouldn't be surprised if he owned a fuckin’ monocle or something.”
Steve decided it was the wrong time to tell him that yes, his dad did in fact own a monocle, and he’d worn it more than once.
“So, what does that mean?”
“It’s like, I know you didn’t like him very much and you guys don’t talk; but sometimes, I worry that you still wish you coulda had that life for yourself. The fancy clothes and galas and business opportunities. That someday you’ll wake up and see that I can’t give you what that lifestyle can and you’ll leave and go back to him and work at the firm and…I don’t know.”
Steve sat there for a minute, stunned. As much as he liked to say he knew Billy, he didn’t expect this. Billy didn’t give a shit about what Steve’s father thought, at least he didn’t think so. He swallowed, and took a few steps forwards.
“Bills, I’m sorry that you were feeling all of that. I’m sure it was shitty. Thank you for telling me, though.”
Billy looked up at him, giving a tight-lipped smile and looking back down at his lap. Steve squats down, sitting back on his thighs to look up at him.
“Hey. It’s important to me that you know that I don’t think of it like that. I don’t miss my parents or that fake ass lifestyle, I don’t want it. I hated feeling like I didn’t matter other than filling a position or making a quota.” He reaches out and squeezes Billy’s knee. “You showed me that all that stuff was bullshit. People like you and Robin. Well, maybe not when you were beating on me in highschool,” Billy throws his head back with a groan, covering his face with his hands, “but since then, and up until now, it’s been you Bills. You’re what I want. I don’t need anything else.”
Billy removes his hands from face, looking back down at Steve. “Thank you, baby. I know that, on some level, it’s just that sometimes I get caught up in all these thoughts. You know me. Hot headed and hot blooded.”
Another squeeze at the knee. “Oh I know, and I love those things about you. Well, most of the time.”
That earns him a light kick. He swats at Billy’s leg, giggling. Looking up, he sees the blonde gazing back at him, a light smile on his lips, a soft kind of look he only gets to see when they’re alone, because God forbid anyone knows Billy Hargrove is a sap. They look at each other for a moment, Billy reaching out to lay a hand against his cheek, fingers tousling with the long hair behind his ear; Steve leans into the touch. For a moment, it seems like time doesn’t pass, even if just for them. The soft light of the lamp paints Billy’s curls even more golden. Glowing.
Then, Steve remembers where he is, kneeled in front of his boyfriend like this, a hand in his hair. He can’t help the low swoop in his gut. The heat that pools there. He swallows, suddenly very aware.
“You know…” He starts, quiet, “I have no problem reminding you just how much I want you, and no one else.”
Billy raises an eyebrow. “What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know, just that I wouldn’t mind making sure you knew.” He places both hands on Billy’s knees, separating them ever so slightly before running his hands down the other man’s jeans, toward his waist. He feels his thighs tense, and Billy looks at his hands and then back up at Steve.
“Oh, baby. You don’t have to do that, really. I don’t need you to. That’s not what I meant, honest.”
“No, I know. I’m just saying, I’d be happy to do whatever I can to cement the idea in your brain. But if you don’t want to, of course we don’t have to; I just wanna show you.”
He can see Billy swallow. “Show me, then.” His voice is softer now.
Steve smirks, running his hands up Billy’s thighs with more force. He leans forward, reaching for the buckle of his belt. He can feel Billy’s gaze as he undoes the clasp, pulling the belt free and throwing it to the side.
“Off, baby.” He taps at Billy’s jeans. Without a word, the other boy lifts up his hips and Steve drags his jeans up and over his thighs, pulling them off of his ankles and tossing them to the side along with the belt. Billy’s left in just socks and his boxer briefs from the waist down; Steve can see he’s half hard already. He leans down to place a few kisses on Billy’s thighs, one hand one the boy’s calf and the other on his waist; he moves to the inside of his thigh, biting the soft skin there ever so lightly, he feels him tremble. Looking up, he sees Billy’s eyes are dark, pupils blown as he stares back at him, enraptured.
“You know, I think any part of you could make me go wild. Seems like you’d love for me to focus on one spot in particular, though, care to share?”
Billy makes a sound in his throat before letting out a soft, “Please.”
“Gladly.”
He runs his lips lightly over the skin as he reaches the very obvious bulge in Billy’s briefs.
“Looks like someone needs some help.”
“Stevie. Please.” Just a whisper.
“Of course, baby. Anything for you.”
He leans down, wrapping his lips around the head of Billy’s dick through the fabric. With a groan, the other boy throws his head back in the chair. Steve begins to mouth up and down the shaft, watching as the cotton gets dark with spit, clinging to the hard length beneath. He reaches up to firmly grasp the base as he continues, eliciting a grunt as Billy bucks his hips, hoping to gain some more friction. Leaning back up, he wraps his fingers around the waistband of the briefs, and Billy doesn’t need to be told to lift his hips again. Once he’s thrown the garment aside, he gets a good look at Billy. He’s looking at Steve through hooded lids, lips parted, waiting.
Billy’s dick is big, that's for sure. Thick and long, a good weight to feel in his hand as he wraps his fingers around the length and gives it a few lazy pumps before bringing his head down again.
“I love this cock.” He licks a strip up from the base to the head and Billy lets out a moan, almost a whine, but doesn't look away. He puts the head in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around it, tasting the precum that’s already leaking from the tip. In one swift motion, he takes it in his mouth, getting about halfway before he can’t go on. Billy’s hips are bucking and he’s making soft huffs as Steve begins to bob his head up and down, tongue working all the way, feeling every vein.
“Jesus.” Billy sounds wrecked. “So—fucking good.”
“Yeah? Am I good, sir?”
He feels Billy’s sharp intake of breath and he knows things are about to change. Billy may have been content to lay back before, but Steve knows that more often than not, he wants to be the one in charge.
And Steve has no problem with that.
“Yes, baby, so good. So good for me.”
He feels Billy card a hand into his hair again, this time more forcefully. The pressure of it feels good, forcing him into the moment. He keeps at it, moving his lips up and down while using his free hand to cover what he can’t quite reach. Billy’s other hand reaches down, taking him by the chin and lifting it up so their eyes meet.
“How about you be a good boy and get those pants off, huh? Can you do that for me, baby?”
Steve moans, hand squeezing Billy’s cock again. “Yes, sir.”
He undoes his own belt and slides both his pants and underwear down in one motion, kicking them off his feet.
“Good. Such a good boy for me. Get up here, baby.” He pats his naked thigh, and Steve wastes no time in crawling up and into his boyfriend’s lap, straddling him. Billy runs his hands along his arms before reaching up to bring him down for a searing kiss. Billy’s tongue parts his lips almost immediately, swirling around his mouth. They’re both moaning now, Billy’s left hand a firm pressure on the back of Steve’s neck, the right slowly makes its way along his thigh before running up and along his ass. He gives it a squeeze and raises his hand, bringing it down in a crisp slap. Steve moans loudly, breaking the kiss as he buries his head in Billy’s neck.
“That feel good, baby? Want me to leave your ass bright red? Make it so you can’t sit for a week? You’d be just fine sitting in my lap.”
Steve groans against his neck. “Fuck, Billy.” Another crack and burst of pain.
“Bet you’d like that.”
“Billy, fuck. Make me yours. Please.”
With a growl, Billy brings him back in for a kiss. His hand leaving Steve’s cheek and running along his crack. He can feel a finger prodding at his hole, rubbing circles there, making him squirm. Billy breaks the kiss.
“Seems like we might need some help here.” The finger leaves his hole and suddenly Billy’s spitting into his palm before replacing it back at his entrance. He feels the warm slick fingers rubbing him before one begins to slowly press its way in. With a groan, he’s back at Billy’s neck, eyes shut tight as Billy works one finger into his hole, pulling it out and pushing it back in again.
“Mm, ‘nother, please Bill.”
“Someone’s eager, huh?” But there’s another finger there, and he feels a slight burn as Billy fucks the two into him. Before long, they’re going in and out with ease.
“Please, Billy. Fuck me. I need it, please.”
Suddenly, he’s lifted up and into the air. Billy’s standing, hands under Steve’s thighs as he walks back towards their room. Kicking the door open, he walks over and deposits Steve down softly onto the sheets. He opens the bedside drawer and produces the bottle of lube that’s never left that spot since its purchase. Steve takes the chance to pull his shirt up and over his head, depositing it next to their bed. Billy does the same, and Steve’s in awe just looking at his boyfriend’s built chest. Leaning back down over Steve, Billy cages him with his body, putting one of his legs over his shoulder, and squeezes some lube onto his hand. He feels it as Billy lubes up his entrance, sliding two fingers in again for good measure, and then strokes his cock to cover it in the rest. Billy’s lining up, and suddenly his face is inches from Steve’s.
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
Steve feels dizzy, like he can barely focus. “Fuck, I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Billy. Always.”
And he’s pushing the head in, both of them groaning at the sound of the pop as it passes that ring of muscle, and slowly, inch by inch, he pushes in, never breaking eye contact. After a moment, he’s fully seated, leaning back down to nip at Steve’s neck.
“Fuck, baby, so tight. So good. So perfect for me. I’m so lucky you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, baby. Please, fuck me.”
Billy wastes no time in pulling out, almost completely, before shoving himself back in up to the hilt. They both let out a groan, and Billy starts a vicious pace, pumping in and out of Steve with fervor. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the room, louder in Steve’s ears than any of the sounds outside. He can’t help but let out a moan each time he feels Billy’s balls slap against his ass, the head of his cock just barely brushing against that spot.
“Please—Bill, please. Oh God.”
Billy leans close, being a hand up to brace against Steve’s throat with a light pressure. “Yeah, baby? You like my cock? Tell me how much you like it.”
“Fuck, fuck. It’s so good, fills my hole so well. Stretches me so wide.”
The grip on his throat tightens some. “Your hole? No, I don’t think so. That hole belongs to me, baby. So does every single part of you, you’re all mine. No one else’s.”
Steve feels like he can barely focus on Billy’s words, so many sensations vying for his full attention. “Y–yeah.” He can hear the trembling in his voice. “I’m yours Billy, make me yours. Fuck, my hole is all yours, please use it. Please.” The last word of his sentence devolves into high pitch whines as Billy picks up the pace, angling his hips lower so the head of his dick can push up towards his prostate, hitting it square on with every thrust.
“Fuck!”
Steve hopes the neighbors have gone out for the night, because he can’t really stifle himself at the moment. Maybe he’ll bring Ms. Donovan some oranges she likes from the farmer’s market tomorrow as repentance.
Billy’s thrusts begin to get a little erratic, and with his breathing as labored as it is, Steve can tell he won’t last much longer. He wraps his legs around Billy’s waist, pulling him in. A drop of sweat falls from Billy’s forehead and onto his chest, and he can’t help but clench at the sight of his boyfriend, eyes closed, tensed, and focused on fucking into him, likely trying to wait until Steve finishes to find his own climax. God, Steve loves him. He reaches down and begins to stroke himself quickly, pulling on his cock, hand immediately covered with precum spilling from the tip.
“Fuck, Bill. You gonna breed me baby? Gonna breed my hole?”
Billy’s eyes snap open and Steve is sure that both of his pupils have eclipsed the iris completely.
“You want it baby?”
“I wanna cum with you, please.”
Billy begins slamming into him, just bordering on too hard, but light enough that the impact makes Steve’s cock jump in his hand. He syncs up his strokes with Billy’s thrusts, and he knows he doesn’t have long, seconds maybe. Suddenly, he can feel his balls tighten, and with a few more tugs he’s spilling out onto his stomach, ropes of cum traveling so far as to land on his mouth and chin. His head falls back and he cries out, his hearing going out for a brief moment as the world turns to white. Billy lets out a hushed jesus christ, his hips stuttering as he drives into Steve one last time, groaning as he spills, hot and hard, into his ass. His head falls down into the crook of Steve’s shoulder, both hands coming up to cup around the back of his head, and his hips falter, giving little bucks as he finishes, just muscle memory at this point.
For a moment it's just them, locked together in a knot of sweaty limbs and hard breathing. He can feel Billy’s lips closing around his shoulder in small kisses, just barely there, his body otherwise spent. His lips trail up Steve’s neck before finding his mouth. They kiss, slowly and lazily, barely finding enough energy to move. They stop and he opens his eyes and finds Billy already looking at him, lips parted as he pants. His eyes are wet, like maybe he’d been crying just a little. Steve doesn’t bring it up.
“Hi.” He says, breathless.
And without missing a beat, Billy breathes out. “I love you.”
Steve huffs out a laugh at the frankness of it. “I love you too.”
“I hope you know, you’re gonna have a hell of a time getting rid of me.”
“Good thing I never will.”
“Never? Careful what you wish for, Pretty Boy, you’re gonna find yourself the blushing bride.”
“Is that so? This better not be you asking me, Hargrove. Or else you’re gonna need to try again.”
“Oh doll, when I try, you’ll know. Not a shadow of a doubt.”
Steve throws his head back and laughs. “I’ll keep you to that. Now get off me, we’re sticky.”
“I already told you’re stuck with me.”
“Ew, Bill.”
But neither of them move, and before long exhaustion sets in and they fall into a deep sleep, curled into one another, Billy now on his side and Steve’s head under his chin.
The next morning, Steve is staring at a display of fresh fruit, eyes still slightly sore with tiredness and the bright light of the sun. He feels arms circle around his waist and a head lay itself on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to turn to see who it is.
“Hi baby.”
“Hey doll, whatcha doin’? We out of fruit already?”
“No, I just feel like maybe I should grab Nora some things as an apology for how…disruptive…we must have been last night.”
He can feel Billy chuckle against him. “Nah, she gets it. You tellin’ me she’s not having any escapades of her own down there?”
“Billy, no! She’s like fifty.”
“So? Don’t sex shame Stevie, we live in a sex positive household.”
“I’m ignoring you now.” He says. Billy reaches out in front him, picking up a large eggplant, thick enough that he can’t get his fingers all the way around. He brings it up, pressing against Steve’s lips.
“Look familiar? Can’t put my finger on it.”
“Ew, Billy! Stop it! You’re so gross! Ugh, I have to buy that now. I’m leaving you at home next time.”
“Awe, what would you do without me, baby/”
He turns then, locking eyes with Billy, his ocean orbs sparkling in the morning light.
“I have no idea. Good thing I’m stuck with you, huh?”
Billy grins and plants a wet kiss to his lips.
“Damn right you are.”