My apologies that this took so long. Iâve been having a hectic few weeks. Part three will come faster!
Steve had no idea how to feel the moment his eyes locked on the man whoâd spoken.
On one hand, he felt distinctly caught. Something like embarrassment crawled up the back of his neck, hot and twitchy, motivating his feet to take off in a run. Robin would probably kill him if he did, however.
But he was also warm for an entirely different reason.
Because holy fuck, this just might be the single most attractive man heâd ever seen and every single one of his nerves was firing sporadically.
They were about the same height, but thatâs where the similarities ended. The man had soft looking blond curls pulled back from the sides of his face with sleek silver clips. A single, perfect ringlet dangled over his forehead artfully.
His eyes- a startling blue even in the dim light- were rimmed with smoked out eyeliner, sparkling with amusement as Steveâs silence stretched on. Golden skin was showcased by a silky ruby toned shirt only half done up, tucked into a leather corset style belt with hand etched designs so intricate Steve would bet it cost more than two months of his rent.
âI⌠I uh-â Steve stuttered over his attempt to answer, cheeks flooding red. The pretty man ran his tongue over a pointed canine as he waited.
âWe mustâve gotten the wrong address.â Robin interrupted when she realized Steveâs brain was fully broken.
More of those pearly teeth flashed at them with the answer. âAh, of course.â He didnât believe them at all, the dimple in his cheek twitching with the effort not to laugh. Robin grabbed Steve by the wrist, yanking him towards her and the door none too subtly.
âSorry, weâll be- uh, on our way!â She gave the guy a tight smile, tugging at Steve again. Giving in, the brunette man started to follow her towards the door, only to be stopped by a larger hand clasping around his opposite wrist.
Steveâs eyes shot up and back to lock with an intense blue gaze. âI wouldnât dream of it. Come in, I promise I donât bite.â
*Unless you ask nicely*, Steve couldâve sworn he heard exhaled afterwards.
He shouldâve said no, apologized and left probably. They didnât know this guy and this had already been an embarrassing start. But Steve really was a sucker for pretty boys.
âUh-uhm, yeah. Okay. Why not?â His voice was a little strained and he tried to ignore the stunned look Robin shot him. He was gonna get an earful for this later, that was clear.
âPerfectâŚâ The man smiled more genuinely, letting go of his wrist. Steve tried not to mourn the loss. âYou can call me Billy, by the way.â
Billy. Steve rolled the name around in his mouth and decided he liked it. He wouldâve expected the fallen angel currently guiding them through the other guests to have a name as elegant as his clothes but for some reason the commonality of it almost stood out more.
It suited him.
âSteve. And that is Robin.â He replied with a tongue that felt too big for his mouth, trying not to drool. The entire back of Billyâs shirt was taken up by a sheer panel that showed each fluid shift of his back muscles as he walked.
Steve wanted to bite them.
He was shaken out of his trance when they arrived to a smaller living room than the one at the front, where only a small handful of guests lingered. Five or six people besides them, max. A guard stood at the entrance, but paid Steve and Robin no mind as they trailed in at Billyâs heels.
He led them to a couch, where only one other person was sitting. A lithe, wisp of a girl in a lilac satin cocktail dress, a silver chain belt draped over her hips and wild brown curls sheâd hauled up into a bun. She was almost as captivating as the blond, with pointed, lovely features that reminded him of a little of the elves in Dustinâs movies.
Her eyes brightened as they landed on Billy, then turned sly as she moved to their guests. âOoh, whereâd you find these ones?â She all but purred, getting to her feet with feline grace. Steve didnât have to feel guilty about his mindâs preoccupation with Billy, though.
Most of her attention seemed locked on Robin, who was currently wide eyed like a deer in traffic.
âThey ah⌠got a little lost. Figured Iâd be a good host and let them stay.â Billy sounded amused repeating their bad excuse, which made Steve bite down a little harder on his lip.
âIâm not complaining. Have a seat.â She said, taking a step back and lowering herself onto the black couch once again. âHeather.â She held out a hand towards Robin, who took it expecting a shake.
âNice to meet you. Iâm um- uhâŚâ Steve almost wanted to laugh at how flustered the girl was, but he was self aware heâd been even worse than her before. He wasnât going to invite her to call him out.
âRobin?â She finally managed, though it sounded a little like a question. Heather let out a pleasant peal of soft laughter. âYouâre an awfully cute one.â She said like a fact, Robinâs freckles officially vanishing as her blush darkened impossibly more.
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Steve and Robin move to a big city on the coast after Robin graduates from her college classes with a degree in the arts.
Itâs an impulsive decision, like many of theirs are. The kids are leaving for college, theyâve been fired from their jobs- Steve publicly chewed out a customer who made a gross comment about Robinâs chest- and neither of them particularly want to keep staying in their childhood homes still in their early twenties.
So they pick a city, cram their combined belongings into a car, and spend the better part of a few days slowly driving across country.
It takes a while because Steve insists on stopping at multiple cheesy landmarks on the way, much to Robinâs theatric dismay.
But they get there and they settle in and they⌠love it. They find an industrial style apartment that they can see the water from- over a handful of other brick buildings, anyway- and get new jobs at a musical diner. Turns out they can both sing, and Steve looks great in his tiny red shorts and rollerblades.
They spend their mornings arguing over what shape is superior to cook batter in (Robin is team waffle, Steve is team pancake) and giggling over the celebrity gossip section like teen girls. More often than not, they end up crashing in Robinâs bed at night even though they have separate bedrooms. Itâs wonderful.
But one night, they are so incredibly bored.
They get all dressed up just to pass the time, doing little model walks out to the living room, striking poses, taking goofy pictures to cover the walls in. The outfits turn out honestly kind of great and it feels like a waste not to go anywhere. So they do.
The original plan was to go to this queer club they found in their first week here, the entrance to which was. hidden inside the dry storage room of an Italian restaurant. However, they take a detour through the rich neighborhoods to ogle the stupidly big houses they couldnât afford even with twenty pooled years of diner salary, making fun of the absurdly shaped topiaries and obnoxiously shiny cars that made Steveâs look like a junk heap.
Thatâs when they get a reckless idea.
One of the houses a little separate from the others is a mansion with music thrumming from inside and flashing colourful lights, with a guard dressed in all black standing at the front door.
âAre you thinking what Iâm thinking?â
They blurted at the same time, slowing the car to a stop.
Minutes later, Steve strolled down the long, perfectly even paving stones set into the emerald lawn with an updated, adult version of his signature King Steve âI belong everywhere I show upâ face.
He was dressed in a loose silk shirt and dark wash jeans, hazel eyes rimmed in kohl and hair artfully messed on top of his head. Robin had caved into his suggestions earlier, dressed in an eggshell bustier- that she kept awkwardly adjusting where it dug into her side- and black slacks with gold buttons up the legs.
They donât look underdressed for the place, at least.
Steve gets stopped by the guard almost immediately and asked for his name, and Robin starts to sweat. Sheâs ready to apologize and say they must have accidentally come to the wrong place.
But Steve just scoffs, hand on his hip, with a righteously offended look on his face. âExcuse me?â He asks, tone dripping false condescension. âAre you seriously asking who I am?â
The guard looks nervous, immediately shuffling with his papers presumably carrying the guest list. A vein throbs in his temple and he flits his gaze between Robin and Steve in their dressy clothes and the door behind him.
What kind of people were at this party that the guard was that nervous about not recognizing someone?
The guard glances subtly at the list again and Robin can see there are only two names not checked off the list.
âNo, sir. Of course I recognize youâŚâ The guard trails awkwardly as he lies, âtrick of the light, couldnât see your face before. Come on in, my apologies.â
He checks off both names on the list, without asking again.
That worked?
Robin gave Steve a baffled side eye as they entered the house, to which he simply shrugged.
âMy mother always said to pretend I belonged anywhere I went with conviction. She said people would wittle out a spare chair for me with a spoon rather than admit they donât know why Iâm there.â
Robin snorted. âRich people.â
Steve just barely resisted the urge to elbow her in the ribs. âAt least if I was still rich, we wouldnât have wrestled over the last banana this morning.â
But then he paused, eyes taking in the other scattered guests.
âHey uh⌠is it just me or is everyone here-â
âInsanely hot?â Robin finished his sentence, sticking close to his side as she looked around. âSteve where the hell are we?â
Steve didnât have an answer for her, scanning the crowd of ridiculously attractive people in expensive outfits, mingling and dancing to the music playing from a speaker he couldnât find in the massive, open concept first floor.
He didnât get long to try and figure it out, however.
A low, faintly amused voice chimed in from a few feet away. âThatâs the question, isnât it?â The mystery person answered Robinâs query as Steve spun to face them, pulse spiking.
âI certainly would remember a face like that, especially since I made the guest list. So my return question is⌠how did you get into my house?â
