#dick measuring

It starts with, like so many bad decisions, a mixture of a bit too much free time and far too much tequila.

“You’re trashed,” Eddie laughs as Buck tries to drop onto the couch beside him but misses, sliding down the front of the it and settling on the floor instead.

“You’re trashed,” Buck says, tilting his head back and over until it knocks into Eddie’s bare knee. “Weren’t you wearing jeans?”

“I was,” Eddie says, pausing to think through the liquor haze. “I think I stole your basketball shorts?”

Buck nods, leaning his head up to smile goofily at Eddie, temple bristling against the hair beneath Eddie’s knee.

“It’s ok,” he hums, proud of the fact that he’s only barely slurring. “Don’t like basketball anyways.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I hurt your ankle,” Buck says sadly, goofy smile falling into a devastated pout.

“Like a year ago,” Eddie brushes it off easily. “It’s fine, don’t give me those shelter-dog eyes.”

“Woof,” Buck deadpans, before leaning back against the seat of the couch as he dissolves into laughter.

“Dumbass,” Eddie says, swatting down at Buck’s head before petting his hair with an exaggerated motion. “Good puppy.”

“I will bite you,” Buck snarks as his laughter dies down.

“That’s how you got sent to the shelter!” Eddie laughs, flushed red from cheekbones to the flash of chest peeking out from his loose tank top.

“Whatever,” Buck scoffs, before humming thoughtfully and closing his eyes.

“Had a girlfriend once that was into that,” he says, waving his hand as if Eddie is supposed to understand what he means.

“The shelter?” Eddie asks, blinking slowly in confusion.

“Nah,” Buck says, shaking his head sluggishly. “The whole like… pet play thing.”

Eddie stills, hand still in Buck’s hair freezing in place until he slowly pulls it back to his own lap.

“The what now?” he asks. “Like.. besti..”

“No!” Buck interrupts quickly, cackling. “No real animals! She just liked to put a collar and leash on me sometimes.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, “good. I mean, as long as you were into it.”

“It was fine,” Buck shrugs, opening his eyes briefly and immediately closing them again as the room spins. “Not something I liked enough to want to do with anyone else, but parts of it were fun.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, drunken curiosity winning out over his usual suppressed thoughts.

“Mmhm,” Buck says, eyes still closed as he tilts his head so it’s resting against Eddie’s knee again. “She’d pull the collar tighter and tighter while I ate her out, for hours sometimes. I think we went all night one time.”

“You think?” Eddie laughs gently.

“Passed out a few times,” Buck smirks. “Lack of oxygen and all.”

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie says, concern managing to power through the buzz. “You know how unsafe that is.”

“Wasn’t a firefighter yet,” Buck defends. “I was like twenty and horny, don’t judge me.”

“Not judging you,” Eddie says, before rolling his eyes as Buck snaps his own open to give Eddie a dubious look. “Not judging you much,” he amends. “Just an itty bitty bit.”

“You’re an itty bitty bit,” Buck says.

His mouth is only inches from Eddie’s muscled thighs, and Buck swallows the urge to shove up under the loose fabric of his borrowed shorts and bite down with satisfaction.

“We’re basically the same height,” Eddie says. “You just have more leg than common sense.”

“Suuure,” Buck drawls. “Says the itty bitty boy.”

“What are we measuring here, Buck?” Eddie laughs around the words and at the memory it recalls.

“Nothing I wouldn’t win,” Buck says cockily.

“Keep telling yourself that, bud,” Eddie snarks right back.

Buck considers the words, surprised at the easy confidence of Eddie’s response. Surprised, and a little turned on, if he’s honest. But still, a man has his pride.

“I’ve seen you naked,” Buck says, looking up at Eddie with one raised eyebrow. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, obviously, but I’ve seen your dick plenty of times.”

Eddie shrugs, leaning back and throwing one arm over his flushed forehead as he stretches, hiking those shorts up another tantalizing inch.

“Not hard, you haven’t.”

“Whatever,” Buck chokes out around a suddenly dry mouth. “You can’t be that big.”

“I’m not setting any world records,” Eddie laughs, lowering his arm and blinking down at Buck with glazed eyes. “But I bet I’m bigger than you.”

“Tequila makes you sassy,” Buck snickers. “And no way, I’m definitely bigger.”

Eddie blames the tequila and also the entirety of the last difficult year for the words that come out of his mouth next.

“Prove it.”

“Wait, what?” Buck says, shuffling around until he’s facing Eddie from his seat on the floor. “You wanna whip our dicks out in your living-room and measure them?”

Eddie shrugs casually before nodding.

“Gotta prove you wrong somehow. I’m sure there’s a ruler in the junk drawer somewhere.”

“Yeah, alright,” Buck says, because he’ll be damned if he lets Eddie win even the stupidest bet. “What do I get when I win?”

Eddie thinks about it before shrugging again. “I think I have a twenty in my wallet. I could use another one.”

“Fuckin’ deal,” Buck says, jumping up to his feet so fast that only Eddie’s quick thinking hands steady him from tilting over. “I’m gonna find that ruler.”

“How do you wanna do this?” Buck asks when he comes back, settling down onto the couch, leaving just enough space that his leg isn’t touching Eddie’s.

“Just measure them, I guess,” Eddie says, holding out his hand for the ruler.

“Ok,” Buck says, “but if we’re playing by your rules, we need an accurate measurement, so we need to get, you know..”

“Oh,” Eddie says, flushing even pinker as he realizes what Buck means. “Right.”

“I can pull up some porn?” Buck offers, oddly polite.

Eddie thinks of all the videos he’s watched since realizing his passing attraction to men might not be so passing after all and shakes his head vehemently.

“Nah,” he says. “Just need to get hard long enough to measure, just give me a minute.”

“K,” Buck says, before dropping his eyes to Eddie’s lap and watching expectantly.

Eddie looks down, avoiding Buck’s openly curious gaze, and shoves his shorts and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out, before taking himself in hand and jerking himself roughly.

“Ouch,” Buck hisses beside him. “You always this rough with yourself?”

“Not trying to come here,” Eddie says, eyes firmly only his own lap.

“Not like that,” Buck agrees, shamelessly palming himself over his sweats as he watches Eddie’s hand move. “You should at least lick your hand or something.”

“Buck,” Eddie groans. Whimpers, really, even if he’d never admit it. “You’re not helping.”

“Fine, fine,” Buck says, using his free hand to mime zipping his lips shut.

“There,” Eddie says a minute later when he’s finally fully hard, laying the ruler at the base of his cock and pointedly staring at where the reddened tip just pokes over the 8-inch mark.

“Not bad,” Buck admits, before frowning. “You have a really pretty dick, dude. What the fuck.”

“Thank you?” Eddie asks. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine,” Buck says, “It just figures even your stupid dick would be pretty.”

“Your turn,” Eddie says, instead of dissecting whatever all of that was.

He wipes the ruler on his shorts before handing it over to Buck, who takes it with the hand that isn’t rubbing at his own cock through his sweatpants.

Buck shoves the sweatpants under his balls, no underwear in sight, and takes himself in hand at last, already hot and heavy in his palm.

“You’re so wet,” Eddie says in an awestruck voice before he can stop himself.

Buck shrugs sheepishly as he jerks himself off, getting slicker by the second.

“Always been like that,” he says.

“It’s hot,” Eddie says bluntly, too focused on the sight of Buck fucking his own fist to worry about how very Not Straight he suddenly sounds.

Buck moans at that, thrusting up into his hand reflexively.

“You gotta measure,” Eddie reminds him suddenly. “While you’re still hard.”

Buck stops his hand and whimpers as his hips continue to twitch, taking a large gulp of air to try and calm down.

“Yeah, ok,” he says, lining the ruler up the same way Eddie had, shivering as even that tiniest bit of contact makes him twitch.

“Hmm,” Eddie says, leaning forward and seeing Buck landing somewhere between the 6 and 7 inch mark. “Looks like I win.”

“Guess so,” Buck agrees. “My wallet is around somewhere, you find it you can take your winnings.”

“Or,” Eddie says, taking himself back in hand, “we can both finish getting off and call it a draw.”

“Absolutely,” Buck says immediately. “I really want to suck your pretty dick, Eddie. What the fuck is that about?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, looking over at Buck helplessly. “But you’re so thick, and I kind of want to choke on it, so I think I understand what you mean.”

“You’re straight?” Buck asks. “Right?”

“Fuck if I know,” Eddie says. “Really into whatever this is, at least.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Buck says. “Next time.”

“Next time?” Eddie asks, hand moving so fast now that it’s a blur against his skin.

“And every time after that,” Buck promises, before gasping and falling back against the cushion as he comes, covering his own hand and shirt in rope after rope of white.

The sight of it sends Eddie over the edge, and he curls over practically in half with it, spilling onto the cushion between them, too spent to even worry about the cleanup to come.

It’s an awkward few minutes as the endorphin-high comes down and the alcohol buzz starts to fade.

“So, that happened,” Eddie says, once they’re tucked back into their clothes and their hands are hastily wiped on their shirts.

“It did,” Buck agrees, sounding remarkably calm about the whole thing in Eddie’s opinion.

“We’re ok?” Eddie asks.

Buck rolls his eyes fondly.

“Of course we’re ok. As long as you don’t like retroactively hate-crime me or something.”

“Dumbass,” Eddie laughs.

Buck just shrugs, unbothered and loose-limbed.

Eddie thinks it’s a damn good look on him.

“Still want to help me figure it all out?” he asks, inching closer until he’s practically pressed against Buck’s side.

“Obviously,” Buck says, and then they’re finally kissing, Eddie not even minding when he’s being pushed down to lay over the mess he made.

“Might take a while,” Eddie says quietly, even as he’s spreading his legs so Buck can straddle his thigh.

“I’ve got nothing but time,” Buck says against his throat before biting gently at Eddie’s lower lip and kissing him some more.

“Good,” Eddie says, eyes fluttering closed in relief. “That’s really good.”

Buck moves on to the other side of his neck, rubbing his bristly cheeks against Eddie’s sure to be reddened jaw, and hums in agreement.

Eddie’s eyes snap open suddenly and he tenses, frowning up at Buck who pulls away to give him a concerned look.

“We definitely need to throw that ruler away.”

Buck laughs, loud and startled and unattractively wheezy.

Eddie loves him so much that all he can do is join in the ugly laughter, pressing a kiss to Buck’s hair as he giggles against Eddie’s neck.

Yeah, he thinks. They’re going to be just fine.

The morning had been slow. The math class he sat in was even more tedious as he continued to find himself staring off towards the back of Carol’s head. He wondered if she knew about the tiny pieces of lint that had settled at the bottom of her red strands. He doubted it.

He’d already finished his assignment for the day, finding it easier to deal with numbers than anything else. He enjoyed reading, but he thought the literature discussions were dumb. Full of fake answers that people thought of to look smarter than what they actually were.

His eyes drifted about, scanning briefly over the various math posters and examples on the board until he settled over the large windows. He stared at them for a moment, longing to feel the warm sun on him once again. He hated the weather now, hated how the sun could look so hot and warm but still be cold outside. He didn’t get it. He missed his home.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pencil tapping. He moved his eyes in that direction, taking in the messy haired boy who seemed to be deep in thought. He clearly hadn’t knocked his assignment out, as he actually looked to be struggling with it. 

He liked looking at Steve. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did. He liked tracing his eyes over Steve’s moles and soft lips. He liked his dark eyebrows, his strong nose and how he chewed on his eraser when he tried to seek the answers to whichever problem he was stuck on. 

The sunlight dipped in through the windows, lighting Steve into a golden haze that danced off of his warm skin. He was tapping his pencil against his textbook, his lips moving softly as he repeated the question over and over again. 

Billy was enamored with the way Steve’s lips moved. They were pink, curved softly and decorated with the prettiest cupid's bow he’d ever seen. Billy had an urge to trace them, to rub his finger across Steve’s lips until he tired of the feeling. He wondered if Steve would lean against him, if he’d pull him closer. He dreamt of Steve gripping his wrist and kissing each of his fingertips, his brown eyes locked onto Billy’s the whole time.

Steve paused mid tap, shook his shoulders and then quickly jerked his head in Billy’s direction. Billy snapped his head back down to his desk, narrowly avoiding the inquisitive look on Steve’s features as he rolled his tongue around in his mouth.

He pressed his fingertips together, doing his best to keep from shaking as he suddenly felt the dire need for a cigarette. He felt a warmth flowing through him, spreading from the top of his forehead down to the tips of his toes as he felt Steve’s eyes lingering for just a moment. Just a small second. Just enough to make him feel like he was losing his sanity.

Billy couldn’t help the ache that formed in his chest every time he looked at Steve, bitter and angry that he wasn’t able to control his feelings. He couldn’t understand why Steve had such an affect on him, why he was the only person that made Billy feel like he could be wanted.

He’d push him in the halls, shoving him up against walls and lockers as he passed through. If Billy got the chance, he’d tug on Steve’s hair and steal the dessert from his tray with little to no protest from the brunette. Sometimes he’d lean forward in his chair and mock him, only feeling proud when Steve would audibly sigh and roll his eyes. The days that Steve smarted back to him were his favorite. He felt like Steve actually saw him on those days.

It was hopeless. Billy knew it was, no matter how tightly he clung to his hope that he may have some sort of chance. Billy saw the girls that Steve dated, saw how he interacted with other guys on the basketball team. His eyes never lingered, never wandered or became suspicious. He wasn’t interested. He wasn’t messed up in the ways Billy was.

He’d had odd feelings before, but they had never been as strong as what they were now. He felt like he was in middle school again, like he’d just discovered what it was like to have a crush on someone. The way he acted around Steve was the same way he acted around girls when he was too young to know what his feelings meant. He knew what they meant now. It scared him. 

Steve made it hard to concentrate during games, during school; just seeing him walking in the hall made Billy’s heart seize. It was ridiculous. He hated himself for it. It only made him angrier, made him wonder where his lines had gotten crossed.

He was too tired to dip back into his conflicting thoughts on who he liked. He still liked girls, but Steve made him think that he could like men too. That he could be with someone who was who had similar parts to him. He wanted it to be okay.

“What did you get on number four?” Steve’s arm was on his desk suddenly, nearly smearing Billy’s neat handwriting as he lazily rested there. Billy stared at the moles on Steve’s arm for a moment before he found the courage to face him, his mouth suddenly dry in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

His eyes were brown, but in the sunlight they looked like warm honey. Almost golden. It reminded him of the hot sun on the beach, of how he used to just close his eyes and absorb the rays from the sun. 

“S’not any of your business,” Billy piped back, finally able to speak as he pressed his fingertips against Steve’s elbow to shove him away, “Not my fault you don’t know how to count.” He snapped back, instantly feeling his insides crush into tiny pieces at the way Steve’s expression fell. 

He watched, feeling frozen in his spot as Steve gave a shrug of his shoulders and slumped back into his seat. He kicked his long legs apart, spreading them as he brought his pencil back against his desk and began to tap again. He didn’t work on the assignment the rest of class; just avoided looking at Billy the same way that Billy was avoiding looking at him. 

Two weeks passed before Billy had his next bump in with Steve. He avoided him in the halls, in the classrooms. He acted like he didn’t exist during basketball practice. It hurt. It made him feel sick. He missed the warm way Steve smiled, how his eyes lit up when he got excited. He missed watching Steve brush his fingers through his thick hair, how he’d occasionally tug on the locks if he got too deep into his thoughts. 

“You’re doing that wrong.” Billy pointed out as he leered over Steve’s shoulder, watching the way he was incorrectly setting up his geometry problem. Billy tilted his head, sure that Steve had incorrectly measured all of his angles.

“I can count,” Steve replied through barred lips, looking irritated as he spared a glance up in Billy’s direction. Billy felt the corners of his mouth twitch, his stomach fluttering as their eyes met, “I know.” He mumbled as he turned away.

Billy watched him for a moment, expecting him to correct it as Steve kept his pencil pointed at the paper. He felt a laugh bubbling in his chest as Steve quickly dropped his palms onto his paper to hide his work away.

“I don’t think you’re doing anyone a favor there,” Billy snorted, wondering if Steve was the reason that Tommy had failed so many of his classes, “You’re supposed to use centimeters, not inches.” He reminded him, hoping that Steve may realize the error of his ways on his own. 

“Since when?” Steve furrowed his eyebrows together, then squinted his pretty brown eyes as he held the paper up to examine it. Billy paused before he settled his legs over one of the extra stools. 

“Says it right there,” Billy pointed out to the top of the paper as he straddled a stool next to Steve. He stared at the words, trying not to focus on the feeling of his knee pressed against Steve’s thigh, “You’re not labeling your units either. That’s why you got this problem wrong.” 

“Oh,” Steve drew out softly, blinking as he examined the directions again, “Right. I see that.” He mumbled as he took a hold of his pencil, twisting it around a few times between his fingers before he began to erase what he’d already worked on. 

“When you measure,” Billy began as Steve pulled his ruler up to the triangle, “You should start here. The numbers come out more accurate this way.” He explained, his fingers lightly pressing against the ruler to drag it down to the correct spot. He watched the way Steve’s fingers twitched away before their hands could meet, like he was too nervous.

“Alright, yeah, I guess,” Steve mumbled as he shook his head, “Is your mom like a teacher or something?” He grumbled but looked to be more jealous than anything, like he wished that he had something similar. Billy snorted in response, wishing that it was that easy. 

“She’s dead.” Billy said simply, unable to hide the bitterness and anger that rolled off of his tongue. She wasn’t dead. Rosemary was very much alive, he was sure of that. But to him, she was dead. 

“Oh,” Steve’s brown eyes widened, his jaw going slack as he looked at him stunned, “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.” He spit out quickly, a flush settling over his cheeks as he seemed to be trying to dig himself out of the hole he’d just created. 

“S’fine, it’s none of your business anyways,” Billy brushed him off quickly, “That number is way too small.” He changed the subject quickly, not wanting to linger on thoughts of his mom. It was easier to point out Steve’s mistake. 

“It’s-,” Steve huffed in frustration as he erased his answer hurriedly again, “Funny you say that, considering that’s the size of your dick.” He grumbled to himself, like it was supposed to be some sort of insult. Billy stared at him for a moment, certain that he had heard the brunette wrong. 

“My dick is not that small,” Billy defended himself, “Plus, yours is even smaller than that.” He said quickly, not wanting to be stuck in some rumor over having a small dick. His was not small. 

“I do not have a small dick,” Steve huffed out, his cheeks beginning to burn, “I have a large one. Eleven inches, actually.” He replied proudly, dropping his pencil like that was the last word. Billy raised an eyebrow. 

“Your dick is not eleven inches.” He dismissed Steve as he shook his head. He hadn’t seen what Steve was packing, but he was quite confident in his answer. There was no way. 

“How would you know?” Steve challenged, “Are you peeking?” He asked quickly, looking a little horrified as he moved a hand over his junk. Billy felt his eyes widen, his heart falling to the floor in panic. 

“No,” Billy spit out quickly, “There’s just no way you were blessed like that.” He said at last, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t approached in the first place. Why did he approach? He was suddenly reminded of how annoying Steve was. 

“I’ll show you,” Steve said, then briefly paused, “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant like, I will prove to you how long my dick is. By measuring it with you.” He spit out awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. 

“Doesn’t sound very exciting.” Billy replied dryly, though he could feel a certain jolt rushing down  his body. He mentally cursed himself, unable to believe that his body was getting excited over something so dumb. 

“Are you scared that I’m right about something?”Steve challenged, looking like he was quick to defend himself. Billy raised an eyebrow, but kept himself from retorting that he didn’t think Steve’s counting skills were all that.

“You’re on.” Billy said at last, unable to stop himself as he slowly dragged his eyes away from Steve’s amused ones and landed on his pink lips instead. He was fucked. 

They both waited until practice was over and everyone else had left. Billy felt odd sitting around in his towel so long and had hastily decided to redress himself. He already knew how big his dick was, he had nothing to prove. 

“See,” Steve proclaimed proudly, “Eleven inches.” He grinned from ear to ear, looking entirely too cocky as he held his ruler against his dick. Billy looked up at him incredulously. 

“You can’t count the balls.” He pointed out, feeling like it was a known rule to keep from measuring your balls. It didn’t count, not at all. 

“That’s part of my dick!” Steve protested, “It so does count.” He gestured back towards himself, looking a little angry as he stared at his cock. It had been awkward waiting earlier, as Steve had swore that the only right way to measure himself was by getting hard. Billy had waited on the opposite side of the lockers, sure that Steve was probably beating his dick to some old memory. 

“Here,” Billy grumbled as he yanked the ruler free from Steve’s grasp, fully lost in the need to prove him wrong, “You start here and place it here.” He directed him, his eyes slightly widening at the realization that his fingers were brushing against Steve’s dick. Steve lurched forward, a shrill whine leaving his lips at the same time. Billy gulped, feeling his own cock hardening in his pants. 

“I-,” Steve gulped, “I’m sorry, I just-,” Billy cut him off again, his body warming as he slowly wrapped his fingers around Steve’s girth. Steve gasped again, his tone shrill as he jerked his hips forward. He rutted himself against Billy’s palm for a moment, his features wrinkled in bliss. 

Billy felt his heart hammering in his chest, beating against his ribs and nearby organs as he stared down at both of their bodies. He knew it was dangerous, knew that anyone could walk in at any time. He didn’t care. He was too last in the moment, in the thrill of keeping Steve’s gaze on him. 

“What was that?” He hummed softly as he moved behind Steve, feeling his confidence grow at the whiny sounds that left Steve’s mouth. He pressed his chest against Steve’s back, soaking in the warmth from the other boy as he felt his own cock aching in his jeans. He fought the urge to rock his hips forward, to grind against Steve.

“It feels,” Steve gulped harshly as Billy tilted his head, looking at how his eyes grew hazy and his cheeks pink, “It feels good.” He groaned, his eyes flashing in desperation as he turned towards Billy again. 

“Don’t let me stop you,” Billy mumbled from against his mouth, his lips slightly dragging against Steve’s warm skin as he moved his hand from Steve’s cock and towards the other side of his hips, “Go ahead.” He urged the brunette, enjoying the soft croon that fell from Steve’s lips as he wrapped his long fingers around his leaking cock.

Billy watched in fascination, doing all that he could to keep from rubbing himself up against Steve’s soft backside as he slowly began to stroke himself in his hand. Billy dragged his fingers across Steve’s waist at the same time, enjoying the hot sensation that grew from his touch. 

“Oh,” Steve trembled against him, his pink lips pouting out into a breathless moan as he rocked his hips forward to meet the rough movements from his hand. Billy exhaled softly before he pressed his tongue against the crook of Steve’s neck, licking away his sweat as Steve once again let free a whimper, “Fuck.”

Billy felt like the room had grown far too hot, almost blistering as he found his fingers twitching against the skin near Steve’s belly button. He kept reminding himself that he was okay, that he wasn’t actually doing anything. He wouldn’t let himself, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“You’re such a good princess,” Billy teased, watching the way Steve rapidly blinked his hazy eyes, “Such a good cock slut, aren’t you?” He felt his own desire pooling into his stomach, the lust growing deep inside of his chest. He wanted Steve, in a way he’d never wanted anyone else before. 

Steve turned towards Billy then, his brown eyes shot and filled with lust as he parted his pink lips as another moan fell from his tongue. Billy felt himself digging his fingers deeper into Steve’s flesh, enjoying the feeling of Steve’s warm breath rolling over his features. He smelt like bubblegum. 

Their noses brushed against one another’s as Steve moved his hand faster along his cock, his eyebrows furrowing together as he writhed against Billy’s touch. Billy felt his own mouth parting, nearly feeding the temptation of meshing his mouth against Steve’s. 

He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip, as if he could lick away Steve’s heavenly sounds as he pressed himself closer against Steve’s round ass. He squeezed at his flesh, anchoring himself from moving any closer as Steve continued to rut into his hand. 

“S’yeah,” Steve spit out, looking a little desperate as Billy continued to drag his fingers in the hair underneath Steve’s belly button, “I’m your cock slut.” He whined as he twisted his hand a little harder, moaning at how easily he moved his hand along the length of his cock.

Billy was sure the sounds that Steve was making would forever haunt him. He’d never hear anything as melodic, as sinful and full of want and need again. It was better than the songs that he listened to. He savored the sound in his ears, praying that he’d never forget them as his cock continued to throb in his jeans. 

“Oh, oh,” Steve grunted as he moved his hand faster, his eyebrows knitting tightly together as he cried out, “Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming! Oh fuck!” He hissed entirely too loud, his whole body thrusting forward as he reached his eye.

Billy groaned, watching the thick globs of cum shoot out against the lockers. Steve painted them white as he shook, falling back against Billy’s grasp as he continued to whine and plead. His moans were nonsensical, broken apart as he tried to catch his breath. 

Billy pulled away for a moment, listening to the rough way Steve was breathing as he reached between his thighs. Steve halted, freezing as Billy scooped up a glob of cum onto his finger. Steve’s eyes were wide, shot as he watched Billy bring it up to his mouth.

Billy parted Steve’s lips slowly, utterly in awe with how Steve had such a slutty mouth. He had a craving to feel his lips against Steve’s, but he ignored it. Instead he pushed his spunk covered finger through Steve’s open lips, fighting back a groan at the way Steve instantly began to suck on it.

He watched the way Steve’s eyes darkened, how they gleamed like they awaited Billy's approval. Billy felt his air hitching in his lungs, enamored with the way Steve licked his finger clean. He allowed himself a second to savor Steve’s mouth around his finger, knowing that he’d picture Steve’s lips around his cock later.