[Local Undead Ruffians Seduce and Corrupt Town Angel has a nice ring to it, really. But Billy’s distracted, can’t quite believe Steve Harrington had kissed him, can’t quite fathom that he’s grinding down onto Steve’s thigh, or that Steve is arching up under the combined effort to make him writhe.
Billy is breathless with them; can’t stop looking at Steve’s glassy eyes and kiss-swollen lips, can’t resist them again, licking in to that sweet mouth, or the openly hungry way he looks down to Eddie’s fist tugging.
He’s surprised the bed hasn’t bowed under them.
Lucid thoughts are fleeting, but he does glance at the door, does consider the possible trouble they’ll be in if there’s a commotion. It’s easy to make a decision when your dick is on board with it. He kisses Steve again, lingering, sweet, then reaches for Eddie, tilting his chin up to murmur into his ear:] He can’t make a mess, need you to keep him quiet.
[Untangling himself is more painful than he’ll care to admit, but it’s a necessary punishment to shift himself down, to bend more comfortably at the foot of the bed, to bow down and press his tongue against the weeping slit of Steve’s erection while Eddie’s fist has slipped down to the base. In hindsight, he probably should have done this for Eddie too, but cleaning up one mess is better than three.
Billy goes down like he’s got all the time in the world, though. All tongue and spit, swallowing Steve down until the head of his dick hits the back of his throat, sucking like he’ll never get the chance again. He’s nice about, thumbs over the precome when his mouth and tongue are busier elsewhere, downright generous when he encourages Steve to buck up, to use his mouth and throat how he wants.
He moans through it, grunts like he can’t get enough, palming himself through his own jeans and fuck, yeah, he might come in his own pants after all.]
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-08-11 11:42 am (UTC)Billy is breathless with them; can’t stop looking at Steve’s glassy eyes and kiss-swollen lips, can’t resist them again, licking in to that sweet mouth, or the openly hungry way he looks down to Eddie’s fist tugging.
He’s surprised the bed hasn’t bowed under them.
Lucid thoughts are fleeting, but he does glance at the door, does consider the possible trouble they’ll be in if there’s a commotion. It’s easy to make a decision when your dick is on board with it. He kisses Steve again, lingering, sweet, then reaches for Eddie, tilting his chin up to murmur into his ear:] He can’t make a mess, need you to keep him quiet.
[Untangling himself is more painful than he’ll care to admit, but it’s a necessary punishment to shift himself down, to bend more comfortably at the foot of the bed, to bow down and press his tongue against the weeping slit of Steve’s erection while Eddie’s fist has slipped down to the base. In hindsight, he probably should have done this for Eddie too, but cleaning up one mess is better than three.
Billy goes down like he’s got all the time in the world, though. All tongue and spit, swallowing Steve down until the head of his dick hits the back of his throat, sucking like he’ll never get the chance again. He’s nice about, thumbs over the precome when his mouth and tongue are busier elsewhere, downright generous when he encourages Steve to buck up, to use his mouth and throat how he wants.
He moans through it, grunts like he can’t get enough, palming himself through his own jeans and fuck, yeah, he might come in his own pants after all.]