The porch light has come on, pooling on the cement along with the light shining through the sliding glass door. The chairs have inched closer and closer to the house in the absence of the sun, and the pool has long-since emptied of people.
Billy leans back on one of his hands, sitting sideways in a lounge chair with his legs spread out, the warm bottom of a bottle of beer resting against his bare thigh.
There’s still heat in his skin from earlier that afternoon. Sweat-slick and sticky from sunscreen that will take two shower’s-worth of scrubbing to fully remove. No tan lines whatsoever. Gentle bite marks and bruises left in tender areas that will surely ache to touch tomorrow.
For now, he’s looking forward to stepping under a stream of water in the master bathroom upstairs.
The water always stays hot longer at the Harrington castle.
He decided a few hours ago that once he’s finished his last beer, he’ll leave.
He’ll leave and he won’t come back.
Naturally, he’s been sipping at it for what feels like hours now. Swirling the bottle to check how much time he has left, letting dread pool hot and heavy in the pit of his belly at the thought of putting the neck to his lips for the last time.
The conversation goes on around him as usual.
Eddie talks about his latest gig. Jonathan and Tommy both bring up their girlfriends respectively. Jason laments about classes, Argyle suggests that he take a semester or two off, and Steve offers to get another round of drinks.
He pats a hand against Billy’s knee when he doesn’t respond, and the blond takes a moment to actually look up at where he stands over the lounger.
Everyone is looking at him. Which means that Steve must have tried a few times to get his attention.
Eddie lolls his head against Billy’s naked thigh from where he’s sat on the floor, fixing him with big, brown, bloodshot eyes.
“Y’okay, big red?” he hums. His hair is cold and damp where it splays over Billy’s steaming skin. He eyes a mark left near Billy’s hip, red and deeply indented by a set of teeth, and smiles. “Lost your buzz?”
Billy shakes his head. Swirls the bottle in his hand and chews his lip.
He’s getting choked up. He can feel the lump building in his throat, matching the subtle sting in his eyes and the thrumming in his head.
This is exactly why he needs to leave.
“I don’t—“ he says, and his voice comes out with a shake. It has any remaining smiles vanishing from the sea of people around him. He clears his throat before he speaks again. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
For a while now, these little hangouts were just what he needed. To come and be held by doting hands, kissed by loving mouths, and cherished like he’s something special. Brought up to the edge over and over until his eyes run out of tears, and afterwards feel the warm press of other aching bodies against his own to help ground him. Bring him back.
He must not be alone in feeling this way, because when he lifts his gaze from the wet floor, he’s met with various looks of confusion and sadness.
More sadness than he was expecting.
Steve crouches beside the lounger and sets a careful hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing comfortingly back and forth.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” he coos. “Did something happen? Are you alright?”
A shaky breath escapes Billy, and suddenly all of the guys go rigid. Eddie shoots upright, sitting straight and looking up with his brows furrowed, and splays a hand over Billy’s inner thigh just above his knee.
“Don’t cry, sweetness, just breathe.”
Billy looks away and closes his eyes when the tears finally spill over.
“Was I too rough?” Jason asks.
“Did something make you uncomfortable?” Tommy adds.
Quickly, they’re speaking over each other, not one question intelligible from the next, and Steve shushes them sternly.
When he turns his attention back to Billy, his expression is soft and understanding.
“Talk to us, baby,” he pleads. “Take a second to breathe, alright? There’s no rush.”
The palms resting against his skin are comforting. He breathes softly, shakily, and sheds a few more tears before he relaxes enough to exhale a tension-filled sigh.
If his skin was hot before, it’s blistering now. He wipes his eyes with the heel of his palm and sniffles.
“I’m okay,” he says, and there’s a slight air of relief around him afterward. “I just… I can’t keep doing this, y’know? I keep saying it’ll be the last time, and then I keep fucking coming back.”
Billy stares down at the last sip of his beer. Thinks about slender hands combing over his torso, grabbing his hips. Tangling in his hair and pulling.
He thinks of kisses pressed to his neck and fingers tucking under the band of his swim shorts, slipping them off to be lost near the tree line. He thinks of the heated pool water and how cool it felt against his skin. How cool it felt in contrast to the hot mouths finding purchase anywhere they could.
“How come?” Eddie asks.
He looks almost hurt, and when Billy glances around, he has to look away again because the expression is on every damn face he sees.
So, he takes a deep breath, and tightens his fist around the neck of the bottle.
“It’s nothing anyone’s done,” he prefaces. “I’m just starting to want… more? Getting passed around like a bong at a smoke sesh used to do it for me, but it’s not anymore, and it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid—“
“I don’t feel like this,” Billy rasps. He swallows thickly as his eyes well up again. “I don’t like feeling like this. Needy and pathetic and like I can’t just have sex.”
He’s not looking, but he can feel the boys move closer. He can hear the movement, just barely audible over the pounding in his ears.
“You aren’t pathetic, Bill,” Steve reassures.
“It’s perfectly normal to want more than just sex,” Jonathan adds, much, much closer now. “You’re normal for wanting that.”
Billy shakes his head and exhales a shaky breath. Another hand smooths over his forearm, squeezing reassuringly. It helps even out his breath again.
“I’m not normal for wanting what I want.”
“What do you want, sweetheart?” Steve asks.
After a beat, Billy cracks his eyes open. Huffs a laugh to himself at how crowded the space beside the lounger has become, and fixes the brunet with a look.
Steve, sharp as he is, immediately raises his brows in understanding.
“Oh, Billy,” he croons. “I’m sure we could—“
“Sure we could what? Half of you fucks have girlfriends, and it would never work out anyway. Seven is a crowd.” The realization seeps through each thick skull in a matter of seconds, it seems. Billy fights the urge to scoff. “See? It’s stupid.”
Out of all of them, Tommy is the only one to laugh. He snickers and leans his elbow onto Jason’s shoulder, which earns a confused and hurt look from Billy.
“Of course you’d want more boyfriends than you can count on one hand,” he sighs fondly. “Mister blue-eyed princess needs extra love and attention? Who could’ve guessed?”
What he says earns a few chuckles. Even Steve spreads a smile and squeezes Billy’s arm where his hand still rests.
“You do need a lot of constant spoiling,” Steve adds amusedly.
“So high maintenance that you’re crying and freaking us all out ‘cause you like us,” Jason chuckles.
The laughter proceeds and Billy pouts. Eddie picks himself up and sits beside him on the lounger, tucking a curl behind his ear and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“I think it’s safe to say you have these boys wrapped around your little finger,” he hums. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I heard Hagan alone drop about a hundred L-words today. He doesn’t even say that shit to Carol.”
“I do too,” Tommy huffs.
“Yeah? When?”
“On… Valentine’s Day? Y’know, special occasions.”
He flushes red and looks away when Billy smiles at him, crossing his arms. Jason pats a hand on his back.
“Well, now I actually feel kinda stupid,” Billy huffs.
“So you’re a little blond and a little boy-crazy? We already knew that,” Argyle says.
There’s another wave of chuckles, and now Billy’s really smiling.
When he looks around, he doesn’t feel like everything is so out of reach anymore. Literally.
He exhales a relieved sigh, shifting in his seat and grimacing at the grimy feeling of his skin now that he’s had more time to dry off.
“Gonna run me a shower, Harrington?” he lilts.
Steve chuckles and stands up, holding his hand out.
“Promise there won’t be any more crying?”
The blond takes his hand and stands up as well, snorting when Steve sets his free hand on his waist and pulls them hip-to-hip.
“I promise.”
“Good.”
They share a kiss, parting not a moment later when Eddie pushes himself up and runs to the back door.
“I call first round of shower sex!” he yells.
Billy simply quirks an eyebrow, then tilts his head to the side in consideration. The other guys are all quickly scrambling inside. Jason’s hands fit around Eddie’s waist when they’re about halfway through the living room, and the brunet struggles momentarily until his back is pulled flush with Jason’s chest.
“We all know you don’t shower otherwise, Munson,” Jason teases.
He licks a stripe up the curve of Eddie’s neck, and it takes less than a second for them to topple over onto the couch, hands roaming all over each other as Eddie fails to sass back.
Argyle and Jonathan make off towards the guest bathroom, stripping down in the hall along their way, and Tommy is left standing in the doorway, leaning his arm against the frame.
“I’ll go get it warmed up,” he says with a wink.
Then it’s just Billy and Steve outside.
It’s quiet now, save for the chirping of crickets. They’re still pressed together. Steve rubs his thumbs against Billy’s hips mindlessly. Leans forward and just barely brushes his lips against his ear.
“We’ll figure it out,” he coos. “But for now, let’s go get clean, yeah?”
Billy glances down at his free hand briefly. Swirls the contents of the bottle before setting it on the side table beside him and breathing in deep. Like the oppressive weight is gone from his body.
He feels like he’s damn near floating when he meets Steve’s gaze again. They both spread goofy grins not a moment later.
“Yeah, Stevie. Let’s go.”
