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If he was being honest, Billy felt kind of nervous. Harrington told him to swing by his house after Billy’s shift. He said he had something to give Billy. A surprise . His immediate reaction was this fluttering pleasure that Steve had thought to get him anything at all. Like he was his—well. His something. Then he felt angry at himself for getting so stupid.
Billy was always getting stupid about Steve Harrington.
Now he just felt nervous. Billy checked his hair and lipgloss in the center mirror. Cinnamon today, a red wash over his lips that tingled every time he rubbed them together. He wanted to leave a ring of it around Harrington’s cock. Smeared over his pale hips, sparkling and red.
Plus, it matched his scrunchie. He took his time righting his braid, reapplying a fresh coat of gloss, before getting out of the Camaro. He walked up to Steve’s front door feeling a little less nervous.
Billy knocked three times. Then rang the doorbell when no one answered. Steve yelled to him from inside, “Door’s open!”
Billy pushed inside, immediately smelling the rich aroma of garlic, blistered tomatoes, and basil. He found his way to the kitchen, emerging to the sight of Harrington diligently stirring sauce into a pot of pasta. He didn’t look up at the sound of him entering, so Billy took the time to shamelessly admire his working muscles beneath his shirt. His ass moving along to some phantom rhythm.
He slid up behind Steve, slipping his hand into his back pocket. Steve hummed, immediately leaning into him like he’d been waiting all day for Billy to get here. To come home.
“This is a surprise Harrington. You’re my very own Julia Childs.”
Steve’s lip twitched. He craned his neck, smudging a sweet kiss at the corner of Billy’s jaw.
“Set the table for me?” he said, lifting his brows innocently.
“Yeah, alright,” he grumbled, pressing a hand to his warm cheek. Billy fumbled around trying to find everything he needed. He’d been over to Steve’s a few times, but not enough to know where he kept the glasses.
He refused to ask. Mostly he found everything on his own. Steve had to help him find a serving spoon, but yeah, whatever. He figured it out.
Once the table was set and Steve had poured them wine— wine —Billy made himself ask, “Okay, what is this?”
Steve paused in the middle of slurping spaghetti. He sucked the dangling noodle into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Pasta,” he said.
Billy rolled his eyes. “Come on Harrington. What’s with the romance novel?”
He arched a brow. “What, you don’t like it—you look very pretty by the way. I like that color.” He motioned vaguely to his lips, then tucked back into his meal. Billy nearly choked on his food. You look very pretty. Pretty. He carefully bundled all the emotions he felt about that away for later.
“What, you buttering me up for something? About to tell me you found yourself a new girl?” Maybe he was retaliating a little bit for the pretty comment. Whatever. His face still felt warm.
Steve only rolled his eyes. “You’re literally impossible. Maybe I just want to be nice to you.”
“Really?” scoffed Billy.
Harrington’s smile was flashing and brilliant. “Yes. Also, it’s officially been six months since we started hooking up.” He raised his glass in toast and Billy met him halfway there with a distracted movement. He couldn’t believe Harrington remembered that shit.
“Are you serious?” said Billy.
Steve grinned again. “After we finish eating I’ll give you the rest of my present.”
____________________________
They finished eating and Steve told Billy to wait for him upstairs while he cleaned up dinner. He wouldn’t let Billy help, not even to wipe the table. So Billy fucked around upstairs, trying not to freak out about whatever surprise Harrington had in store for their, fuck—sixth month anniversary.
He stopped inside the hall bathroom to touch up his lips, to redo his braid, and on a whim, to add a little bit of the gloss to his cheeks. It made them shine, like a fine sheen of sweat. He turned his head, watching the glitter catch the light. Billy smiled at himself.
Then he turned the light off and the smile vanished. He sat on Steve’s bed, waiting. He tried to snoop but of course, Harrington didn’t keep anything interesting around. Mostly half-chewed Bic pens. It felt like forever passed before Steve came upstairs. A small paper bag dangled from one hand. He set it down near the bed, kicking the door closed with his foot.
When he straightened up, Harrington looked suddenly nervous and that made Billy feel nervous all over. Moments of silence stretched between them. Steve bit at his lip, and then the hesitation melted away. He kneeled in front of Billy, saying evenly, “Take your shoes off.”
So Billy slowly unlaced his boots, and Steve helped pull them off him. He peeled his socks off too. Billy felt oddly naked with his bare foot rested in Steve’s hands. Steve stroked up his heel, over his ankle, and up to his calf. He made a surprised noise and Billy felt the strike of embarrassment curl around him.
“Smooth,” murmured Steve, rubbing along his newly shaved skin. “I like it.”
Billy wanted to make a joke, but he also didn't want to be the reason Steve stopped looking at him like that. Like he was pleased . Harrington smoothed his hands up Billy’s legs until he reached his belt. He opened it in just a few strokes, easily parted his fly, and slid his jeans down his legs.
He tossed them into the corner of the room and immediately returned to the task of stroking along Billy’s smooth skin. His cock was already straining against the fine fabric of his briefs. Steve resolutely ignored it and Billy felt equal parts frustrated and relieved.
“Fuck, baby, you look so fucking good,” said Steve, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Billy made a small, embarrassing noise. Steve kept nosing at him, mouthing along his skin until he reached the hem of Billy’s briefs. He pulled the fabric into his mouth by the teeth. Billy’s cock kicked at the sight.
“These are coming off,” mumbled Steve, hooking his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them down his legs. They joined his jeans crumpled somewhere in the corner.
Steve’s eyes zeroed immediately to his swollen cock. Billy felt mild shame to see himself so hard, cock standing almost to his belly. But when he looked at Steve, he found such a look of hunger there, it was hard to feel anything beyond the heat of arousal.
“Okay, just so you know—I can take them back,” said Steve, reaching into his mystery bag and pulling out a piece of fabric. He shook it out until it unfurled into a delicate pair of panties. Billy’s breath clogged in his throat. They were entirely lace, see-through, and a dark, navy blue. To his absolute horror, his eyes pricked with heat. He blinked rapidly to drive the feeling away. J esus Christ, get it together.
Steve looked nervous again. “Is this okay? I just thought...I thought you'd like them,” he said.
Not trusting himself to speak, Billy nodded. Harrington grasped his ankle again in a delicate hold and slipped his feet through the panties. They felt so silky riding up his legs. His cock throbbed watching Steve slowly pull them over his thighs, his hips, and finally over his cock.
Steve stared at him with parted lips. Billy looked completely obscene. The panties barely covered him, leaving his red, glistening cockhead peering out over the delicate lace waistband. One of the band’s scalloped edges dragged against his slit, eking out a glistening strand of precome.
Steve dragged two fingers over the fat outline of his cock and through the growing damp spot. Billy’s eyes fluttered closed.
“You’re making such a mess, baby,” murmured Steve, now pressing the heel of his hand against his cock. The way he’d showed him. “Do you like your present? Is that it?”
Billy bit at his lip, tasting cinnamon. Steve leaned in closer to him. “It’s okay. You drive me crazy you know, thinking about your little pussy soaking them through. Can I see?”
He felt an overwhelming concoction of shame, embarrassment, and roaring arousal. The whole front of his panties was damp now, precome massaged into the lace by Steve’s gentle touches.
“Let me see how wet you are,” said Steve. His lips were a breath away, so Billy closed the gap, swallowing his earnest gasp. He kissed him until the taste of cinnamon disappeared and his lips were tingling.
Then he stripped out of his T-shirt and maneuvered slowly onto his hands and knees. Steve moved behind him, smoothing his large hands over Billy’s ass, dipping into his crack through the panties. He circled Billy’s hole with the pad of his thumb.
Billy suddenly felt cool air on his skin, and he realized Steve had pulled the panties aside to examine him. He started protesting, but Steve got a bracing hand on his hip, immediately shushing him with gentle strokes.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I just want to see.” He circled Billy’s hole with his thumb again. He felt overwrought and sensitive. He jerked in Steve’s grip, but Harrington shushed him with sweet words and soft touches. “Jesus, you’re beautiful. Wish you could see yourself, making such a mess.” He pressed his palm again to Billy’s straining cock.
Steve kept up the lazy circling of his thumb around his hole, and eventually, he moved the hand from his cock to Billy’s mouth, probing at the seam of his lips until he was sucking on his fingers, getting them dripping with spit.
He jumped at the feeling of warm slickness against his oversensitive hole. His cock jumped too, catching on the lace waistband again. Steve’s thumb slowly pushed into him. “Oh, fuck,” breathed Billy.
“You’re so tight,” said Steve. Like he needed to prove it, he crooked his finger inside him until Billy was squirming and panting. “We’ve got to get you a little looser for me. Do you think you can do that?” He crooked his finger again.
“Fuck, yes, yeah,” panted Billy.
Steve made a pleased noise. “God, you drive me crazy. Feel that?” He pressed his hip against Billy’s flank so he could feel his cock. He was so big and hard. Billy wanted to fucking split himself in half on it.
“Shit, Harrington,” he said, groping behind himself for Steve. He caught Billy’s hand and guided it to the thick outline of his cock pushing at his jeans. Billy ran his hand down the entire length, feeling it pulse against his fingers. He moaned
“You like that?” said Steve, draping himself over Billy’s back and pressing his nose to the sensitive skin behind his ear. “I’m going to fill your little pussy up. Gonna fit my whole cock inside you. Think you can handle it, baby?”
Billy nodded, smothering his moans with Steve’s sheets. Harrington’s fingers started fucking him earnestly. Every twist, every stroke, jolted him. He slammed his eyes shut against the prick of his orgasm. Steve twisted his fingers again and Billy made an embarrassing noise. Of course, he was right there, kissing the back of Billy’s neck sweetly.
“You’re getting so loose for me. Doing so fucking good, baby. Here,” And Steve unclenched one of Billy’s hands from the comforter, bringing it to his hole. He gasped, shying away from his own touch. A fucking mess. That was an understatement. He could feel Steve’s spit leaking out of him.
It felt less exposing when Steve draped himself back over him. “You’re so fucking wet. Making such a mess of your pretty things.”
He just shook his head, clenching his eyes shut. Steve played with him, pushing his spit in and out, making Billy touch himself too before he gently returned his hand to the comforter. Steve folded his warm palm over Billy’s while his fingers kept up their brutal pace inside him. Stupidly, Billy’s eyes pricked with heat. He felt so overwhelmed and his cock was leaking against his belly, making everything even wetter, and he was going to fucking come any minute now.
Steve smudged a sloppy kiss at the corner of his jaw, nipping and sucking at his skin. Secretly he hoped it bruised. “You going to come like this? Just from my fingers? I’ve barely even touched you.”
Billy groaned when Steve’s fingers stuttered to a stop inside him, then felt like crying when he slipped them out completely. The feeling left him exposed and cold, air brushing over his exposed hole. Behind him, Steve hummed in appreciation, spreading his cheeks to get a better look.
He ran a hand softly over Billy’s back, up to his nape, tugging at his braid. He used it to pull Billy’s head back, baring his neck. Steve kissed slowly along his sweat-slick skin, teasing and nipping.
“‘M gonna kill you Harrington,” panted Billy when Steve plucked delicately at a nipple.
“Then you won’t get to come,” he said. He plucked at his other nipple. Billy’s hips stuttered against the sheet. Steve bit into the meat of his neck and kept toying with his chest, pinching and plucking the sensitive skin until both nipples were red and swollen, and his hips were levering down into the bed with each touch. The feeling of orgasm approached him again.
Steve stopped at the last second. “Motherfucker!” said Billy, slamming his palm against the bed.
Steve’s breath tickled the fine hair around his ear. “I like you all worked up. You’re so pretty like this.” One of Steve’s hands brushed some of his hair behind his ear. “You’re gonna look fucking beautiful on my cock.”
His eyes fluttered shut. “Harrington. Please .”
Steve tutted in sympathy, stroking more of his hair away from his face. Harrington liked doing this tender shit. It was something they’d been doing more and more of. Reluctantly, Billy admitted that he liked it too. Maybe more than the actual sex.
Like sometimes Harrington told Billy the most ridiculous things, but he never made Billy feel ridiculous—for wanting this shit. Here, in Steve’s bed, he didn’t feel wrong.
The warm pad of Steve’s finger brushed his hole again. It was just a graze but it pulled a whine from him. Steve murmured cajoling words into his ear—he barely registered them. His fingers were pushing back inside, feeling much slicker than before. Billy cracked an eye open, examining an uncapped bottle of lube next to his thigh.
Steve didn’t build slowly up to three fingers this time. He prepped Billy just enough to add the next finger, then kept him on edge and stretched open until he was banging at the bed again. “ Please , Harrington. Jesus Christ, fuck me already.”
“Ask me nice,” said Steve.
Asshole. Steve abruptly crooked his fingers, pushing a pulse of precome from his cock. The sheets below him were tacky and damp from him rubbing all over them. The wet lace dragged over his sensitive skin every time he moved. It was all he could fucking concentrate on. He didn’t even feel too bad about babbling, “Please. Please, Harrington. Need your cock. I fucking need it, baby. I’m so close.”
He was gratified to hear Steve’s shuddering breath, followed by the hurried clink of his belt falling open, the swish of his zipper coming down. Billy’s face was pressed into a pillow, his curls escaping his braid in a wild corona around his head. He watched Steve pull out his thick cock, red at the tip and so fucking wet he groaned just looking at him. Steve slathered his length liberally in lube and positioned himself against Billy’s hole.
He slid in easily, all the way to the hilt, balls snug against his ass. They both moaned. “God you feel tight. So fucking good.” Steve liked to start out slow, either teasing Billy for the hell of it or staving off his own orgasm. He always liked to check which.
Billy snapped his hips back, pulling a string of curses from Steve. He got both hands on Billy’s hips so he couldn’t do that again, and even though he desperately wanted to push back onto his cock, Billy liked Steve restraining him. Somehow that made it better.
Warm body draping over his back, Steve had one hand braced hotly on his hip and one balancing himself on the bed. He said in Billy’s ear, “That wasn’t very nice.” Pointedly he pulled back slowly, nearly all the way, and pistoned himself back in with a startling slap
Felt like he could taste Steve’s cock all the way in his throat. Steve started sucking at the tender skin of his neck again—he was definitely going to bruise—hips moving lazily, just enough to make the prick of his own orgasm simmer but never boil.
He was about to try and take matters into his own hands when he felt something else probe at his hole, just a light touch. He realized it was Harrington’s finger. Billy looked blearily at Steve over his shoulder. “S’ not gonna work. Too much.”
He nudged the very tip of his finger inside him. “I think you can take a little more. What do you think, baby? You’ll be a good girl and open up?”
“Jesus Christ,” said Billy, jolting at that word . His orgasm surged to the edge, just on the cusp of falling. It would take nothing, really, to tip him over. Steve eased his finger inside him up to the first knuckle. He didn’t even register the burn. It was a hard pressure on that swollen spot inside him, making his legs shake and his hips buck.
Slowly, Steve started moving again, his finger sliding in beside his thick cock. Every one of his breaths came out ragged and warm across Billy’s neck. “You gonna come? Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”
He punched back into Billy, and that, mingling with the gravelly pitch of his voice—that word—drove him over the edge. He cock kicked up against his belly, spilling hot come into his panties and onto the sheets. Steve fucked him through it.
It was almost too much, Steve still inside him while he felt this way, but then Steve groaned, his hips stuttering, and Billy felt his cock pulsing inside him.
When he pulled out, Billy started shaking, and then he found himself pressed against Steve’s chest, his warm hands pushing into Billy’s hair. Most of the lipgloss was gone by now, but the lightest sheen smudged on Steve’s collar bone where he had his face tucked away.
He felt Steve’s hand tugging at his braid, then the freeing sensation of the scrunchie slipping out of his hair, followed by the rhythmic carding of Steve’s fingers through his curls. They were tangled to hell. Billy let him take his time untangling them even though it would frizz his hair up and make him look like an asshole. His eyes started to get heavy, despite the cooling spunk in his underwear.
He almost couldn’t fucking believe Steve had bought them—for him. For them. Their anniversary . Whatever. He pushed his face harder against Steve’s neck, pulling at the faded notes of his cologne. “So. That was okay? You liked it?” said Steve, after enough time passed for the light to change.
Billy made some kind of grunting noise.
“I’m sorry, is that a yes?” said Steve.
“Yes. Yeah. I liked it,” snapped Billy.
The hand left his hair, and the world shifted as Steve got up. Billy felt those soft fingers curling into the waistband of the panties, pulling them down his legs. He almost protested, not wanting to lose them just yet, until Steve replaced them with a clean pair. These were pink. They almost matched his lipgloss. Steve pulled them gently over his hips and braced himself over Billy, long hair shrouding their faces. Harrington went and did his romantic shit again, kissing away the remainder of Billy’s lipgloss. It was almost too much.
“You’re beautiful,” said Steve.
Billy’s eyes pricked again. Je-sus. He turned his head to the side so Steve couldn’t see him. “You’re still an idiot,” he grumbled.
Steve kissed the side of his neck, and while he was there, lips pressed to his pulse, Billy said, “Thank you.”