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in lieu of baby

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He’s had his fair share of slip-ups. Moments where he’s not really paying attention and things come out of his mouth that he doesn’t really think about and suddenly he’s in hot water.

Like saying the wrong girl’s name when he’s balls deep another.

Not that he’s proud of being an asshole or anything but those are the most memorable of them all.

At least, memorable in the sense that he can actually recall the occasions.

He’s had slip-ups with his dad but those usually result in gaps in the timeline.

Nights where he wakes up and doesn’t remember going to bed.

Those are memories he lets fade, because dwelling on his past has never been good for his present.

Like the current present. Meaning, mainly, Steve. Steve Harrington.

His freaking boyfriend now that Steve’s gone and made him fall in mad mad love.

Yeah, he’s a goner.

If he’s honest, he always was. But now he’s domestic .

They have an apartment and buy crappy furniture at the GoodWill and make pasta four nights a week because it’s cheap and like, Steve’s mostly Italian.

Or something.

Yeah, they’re pretty settled. Except for the bedroom because, seriously, the sex has never been boring. Not even when they’re tired or drunk or any of the above. Somehow it’s always good. Not always amazing . But always good.

Always a little breathtaking, if Billy’s being truthful. Because he’s never had such a good thing like Steve.

And Steve is very good. In the heartfelt sort of way. He’s kind and giving and would have seventeen cats if Billy wasn’t allergic. Even then, they’re feeding strays like they own a shelter and the kids are always showing up unannounced to use the spare room -- which is actually just a large closet with a blow-up mattress in it.

Steve is everything Billy wants to be when he grows up. Caring. Good.

Which is why he slips that night. He slips carelessly when Steve’s on top of him, rocking his goddamn world with hips that make him downright stupid . That’s how he’s moaning one second and the next he’s saying, “Dude, you’re so good at this.”

Steve takes a beat to actually hear and then he’s arching a single brow, grinning.

And Billy knows he’s done for.

“Dude?” The ride slows and Billy whines, reaches for Steve’s thighs to get it going again but his boyfriend bats him away. His smile grows. “Did you seriously just call me dude while your dick is in me?”

When it’s put that way , Billy wishes he’d let Steve top tonight. Then at least he’d be in the position to claim he was high on dick and didn’t know what he was saying .

“No.” He lies, squirms on the mattress. He’s hard and a little achy from a long day of work and his cock feels so good but Steve’s just sitting there.

“Dude.” Steve repeats. Then giggles.

Actually giggles .

Then he lifts his hips and grinds down and Billy all but whimpers when his dick gets a good rub.

“Dude, your cock feels so good, bro.” Steve moans, rocking harder than before. Like he’s putting on a show the little shit , a dorky grin wide on his lips. “Dude bro, I’m gonna come so hard, bro.”

“Jesus, stop .” Billy snorts. But it’s contagious, Steve’s giggling. He lets out a silly, twill of a laugh and leans down, kisses one of Billy’s nipples.

“Man, bro. You’re so hot, dude.”

Billy lets out a cackle. He can’t help it.

“Fuck, so are you bro.” Lifting his hips, he hits that spot that makes Steve go a little rigid, like he’s an inch from tumbling. “You lift, bro?”

Steve lets out a gut laugh. One of the good ones, the kind that makes Billy’s chest warm a little because it feels so nice .

“Nah, dude. Not my area, bro.”

“You sure, bro? You’re kinda built, dude.” Billy gropes the muscles of Steve’s thighs, weaves his hands back to the firm cheeks of Steve’s ass. The guy works part time in an office and part time in a warehouse so he doesn’t have time for the gym. But he’s a laborer and his body shows it.

He’s thicker than he ever was in high school. And Billy loves it .

You’re kinda built, dude.” Steve echoes, pressing both hands into Billy’s pecs. “Your bod makes my dick wet, bro.”

And like, yeah it’s hot . Billy isn’t really thinking about it when he sits up and rips Steve around, flattening him on his back.

“Fuck, you’re dirty .” He purrs into his lover’s ear before he sinks his cock deep, makes Steve gasp into his neck.

Oh , Billy.”

That’s a cue he knows by heart. He settles in and finds that rhythm, the one that makes Steve pant in time with each plunge. Makes him claw at Billy’s back and breathe hot into his mouth. Billy likes to use his tongue when Steve’s like that, likes to french his boyfriend when he’s seconds away from whining and coming all over himself.

Because he can do that, Steve Harrington. He’s a lucky sonofabitch, coming from being fucked without a hand to aid the process.

And he can do it more than once, which is like, the biggest ego stroke in the book. It makes Billy feel like some kind of god with a cock made of steel.

“You’re so sexy, babe.” Steve praises him, peppers his lips with kisses. “So hot.”

“Thanks, dude.” Billy grunts.

They’re both laughing when Steve’s voice hitches, his nails digging into Billy’s shoulders.

“God you’re the worst .” He sighs before his cock twitches and Steve’s coming between them. “Ugh, don’t let up, baby.”

Billy’s never been one for instruction, except from Steve. He always gives Steve what he wants, never makes him ask twice.

He truly is whipped .

It’s incredible, fucking Steve through an orgasm. Feeling him pulse and get impossibly tight. It never gets old. Never.

And it always makes him lose control.

Always.

Billy holds on tight and pushes harder, feels his muscles tremble before he lets out a quiet, quivering, “ Dude .”

Steve is cackling when he collapses.

“Love you, bro.” His lover whispers, kisses his ear. And Billy still glowing when he turns his head, finds the mouth he knows so well.

He could kiss Steve for a lifetime and it’d never be enough.

“You too, dude.” Billy whispers.

They share a smile.

“Spaghetti, bro?” Steve asks and Billy wants to say no. Wants to give his pretty boy a real meal. Maybe the new French place down the street or the steakhouse downtown.

Something nice .

But then they wouldn’t be able to eat right for a while. They’d be packing peanut butter sandwiches for weeks.

So, for now, all he can give Steve is his love, a proper dicking, and laughter.

“Yeah, baby.” He purrs, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple before he lifts away. “Spaghetti sounds good.”