#subbillyweek

Billy was standing in front of the cursed waffle maker in their small kitchen, his hands on his hips. Steve let his eyes feast on the toned, sunkissed body for a while: the wide shoulders, the way the tank top hung over the well-built torso, the swell of the perfect ass in turquoise boxers…

Steve walked over and slid his arms around Billy’s waist, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “You smell like flour,” he said, nosing Billy’s cheek and pressing a kiss on it.

“I got up early for this and then this fucking piece of junk decided to die,” Billy replied, annoyed.

Steve snaked his other hand under Billy’s shirt, tracing the contours of his toned abs with his fingertips and teasing the skin right underneath the waistband of the boxers. The coffee smelled divine, and he was hungry, but having Billy against him like this always made his dick take the reins. “You’re doing so well, gorgeous. Taking care of me,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead on Billy’s neck like a cat. “Why don’t you make pancakes instead?” he suggested as he slid his hand underneath the waistband, food quickly becoming the last thing on his mind.

“I wanted to make your favorite,” Billy complained as Steve’s other hand wandered down his side.

Steve hummed, feeling the arousal rising inside him. “Anything you make is my favorite.”

“Is that so?” Billy asked, teasing.

“Uh huh,” Steve said, pressing kisses on Billy’s shoulder, grinding his hardening dick slowly on Billy’s backside. “You are my favorite.”

“I know,” Billy said with an amused tone.

Steve hummed. “I think I want to have you as breakfast…I’m sure you don’t mind?”

The way Billy pushed himself against Steve spoke volumes. But his tone was downright flat as he replied, “Sure, whatever. Can you hand me the pan first?”

The game was on.

Steve reached for the pan that was hanging on a hook above the stove and placed it down, returning to his previous task. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Billy’s boxers and pulled them down, letting them fall in a heap to Billy’s ankles.

Billy turned on the stove as he casually stepped out of the boxers and spread his legs, otherwise seemingly unfazed by what was happening.

The lazy circles Steve drew with his fingers in the soft hair around Billy’s dick made it twitch, and Billy let out a soft gasp.

“Just keep at it, gorgeous,” Steve whispered into Billy’s ear, amused, and licked the earlobe, then stripped him of his tank top.

Again, Billy showed no sign of being affected by Steve’s actions.

Steve took off his own sweats and wedged his rock hard dick between Billy’s ass cheeks, grinding harder now.

Billy’s breathing hitched, but he kept his attention on the pancakes. Steve reveled in the small show of an effect.

See, while Billy was Steve’s to use whenever, the real name of the game was how far Steve could go before Billy had to give in and join.

“You’re such a good boy for keeping at it. I want to have those pancakes ready when I come, ok? Can you do that for me?”

Billy hummed shortly, almost absentmindedly, but arched his back almost reflexively.

Steve chuckled and placed his hand around Billy’s neck, taking a gentle hold there. “Seems you’re eager today,” he whispered. “Spreading your legs like a cheap whore and offering your ass like that. Just for me. Say it.”

“Just for you,” Billy said, sounding almost bored.

Steve kept trying to coax out a bigger reaction out of Billy, any, really. “You’re my whore, right? Ready to please me whenever I want it. Isn’t that so, whore?”

Billy sighed as if this discussion was a burden. “’m your whore.”

Steve shook his head, amused, and pulled back, replacing his dick between Billy’s ass cheeks with his fingers and circling them around the tight pucker. “Let’s see if you’re still wet for me.” One pushed easily inside Billy, who was still loose and slick from last night. Another finger went in as easily, all the way in, making Billy let out a clipped moan.

“Alright, now we’re talking,” Steve stated, almost stupidly victorious over something so small. “Where is the lube?”

This wasn’t the first time they were having impromptu sex in the kitchen, so Steve knew the lube had to be somewhere there, but he didn’t know where. This wasn’t his kitchen, it was Billy’s. He wasn’t usually allowed to even touch the expensive pans.

Billy looked around, then half-heartedly pointed at the other end of the counter. “Has to be in the small box next to the post pile.”

Steve pulled his fingers out and went to look for the tube where Billy pointed at. But it was nowhere to be found. With a mock-annoyed huff, he stepped into the bedroom and soon returned with the one they had there. “Next time know where it is so that I don’t have to go look for it. Or I’ll have to fuck you raw,” he hissed as he coated his cock with lube and spread it around with lazy pumps. “And you know I don’t want to hurt you. But I will if you’re not prepared when I want this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy said while keeping at his task, only a shiver as Steve placed his other hand on his hip revealing that he wasn’t as unaffected by what Steve was doing as he tried to be.

Steve couldn’t hold back a smile as he lined himself up. “You were in the middle of something, hmm?” he asked as he slowly pushed inside into the tight heat.

“Uh huh,” Billy breathed, placing the already a little burned pancake from the pan to the plate next to the stove, the spatula shaking a little in his hand as he did so.

Steve bottomed out with a groan, carding his fingers into Billy’s hair and tugging it while gripping Billy’s hip with the other. Then he started pounding, fast and relentless, chasing his own release as quickly as possible.

When even after a good while Steve still heard sizzling from the stove, he adjusted the angle he entered Billy in—and was rewarded with a gasp and a moan. “Oh dear, did I interrupt something,” he chuckled, panting.

“Fuck you,” Billy growled, low and breathy.

Steve saw he’d taken a hold of the counter, leaning to his hands on each side of the stove, doing his best to stay in place, to keep the pan on the stove and himself far enough of it as Steve slid in and out of him at an unforgiving pace. “Now, now, no need to get all defensive. I’m doing my best here,” Steve continued, amused.

“Shut up, couldn’t, uh—you’re oh—shit, Steve. Ah…” Billy babbled. “Fuck me.”

“I am,” Steve hissed, tugging Billy’s hair tighter and pulling it, forcing Billy to lean his head back and arch his back. “Giving it to you good.”

Billy pushed himself against Steve, meeting each thrust. “Yes, you are,” he whined. “You’re the best.”

The magic words.

“Fuck, you always know what to say,” Steve panted into Billy’s ear, nipping at his neck. Knowing he’d won the game again made his release approach quicker than he’d expected, the pace of his thrusts quickening and becoming more erratic. “I’m close.”

“Yeah, ah…” Billy whined as a reply at the same pace with Steve’s thrusts. “Come inside me. Fill me, baby.”

Billy’s words pushed Steve over the edge. “Up to the brim,” he groaned as he felt his orgasm, now inevitable, forcing its way through him and bursting out of him and into Billy with a low growl.

A moment later, Billy shuddered under Steve, moaning as he came.

Steve let go of Billy’s hair and wrapped his arms around his waist, leaning his head on his shoulder—and Billy leaned his head against Steve’s.

The coffee maker was clicking idly somewhere in the background, the smell of pancakes in the air, Steve buried inside Billy, both panting hard, waiting for their breathing to settle, their heartbeats to calm down.

Such a perfectly normal perfect morning.

After a glorious moment of basking in the aftermath, Steve pulled out. Before he went to look for a towel, he slapped Billy’s ass with his hand to sign that he was done. “How about those pancakes?”

Billy turned around to look at Steve, incredulous, and grabbed his jaw with his hand, pulling him into a long, filthy kiss. “Yeah, sorry, got a bit distracted,” he said, grinning, as he pushed Steve away. “You hungry or something?”