He’s drunker than he’d anticipated.
Not sloppy drunk, just…moving a little looser, his blinks long like a comfortable cat, bumping into things and smiling to himself because oops…
He didn’t expect to get this drunk but his heart was just ripped from his chest, so…
He hiccups softly and moves through the crowd, feeling stupid in his Halloween costume now that Nancy’s gone and now he just looks like some loner loser wearing sunglasses inside. At least they hide his red eyes.
Maybe he’d gone outside to cry, maybe he didn’t.
He pours himself another cup of whatever and turns to go back outside — and runs right into a bare chest.
“Woah, easy, tiger,” the new kid all but purrs, grabbing Steve’s arm to steady him.
Steve blinks hard behind his sunglasses and focuses his eyesight as best he can, furrowing his brows as he shrugs the blond off, muttering/pouting, “Go away.”
Those blue eyes are sizing him up now, a knowing look on that annoyingly handsome face (handsome?), before the guys says, “C’mon, let’s go outside,” and grabs Steve’s arm, pulling him towards the backyard.
God, why didn’t he just go home?
At least the cool October air feels nice on his hot skin, a nice change from the stifling indoor air. He leans against the railing on the deck and takes another sip of his drink, making a face as it hits his tongue and how can he still taste it when it’s basically burned off all his tastebuds?
“Saw your girl leave without you,” the blond hums, leaning against the railing with him, and Steve turns to look at him in the dim light, the yellow-orange glow from the house highlighting the other’s features even with his sunglasses on.
It’s like, kinda unfair, how someone can look this good.
God, what was his name again?
“It’s messed up, y’know,” the blond hums as he pulls out his pack of cigs and pulls one out, “Pretty boy like you? You should be the one breaking hearts.”
“Yeah, well,” Steve slurs softly, watching the other put a cigarette between his lips, eyeing the blond moustache there, how the flame of his lighter shows more of his face, and what was Steve talking about again?
“Well?” The blond breathes out his inhale of smoke, brows pinched gently.
“Well, what?” Steve mutters dumbly, blinking.
It makes the guy laugh, his eyes crinkling as he grins, showing off perfect teeth, too. Fuck him. How dare he.
“Man, you’re wasted,” the blond chuckles, shaking his head, his eyes landing on Steve again as he takes a long, slow inhale.
Is there tension? Steve can feel something in his stomach.
God, is he gonna puke in front of the hot new guy?
It’s butterflies. He swears it.
“Y’know,” the blond mumbles around the filter of his cigarette, taking a step closer to Steve, those blue eyes boring into his own even through the dark plastic, so close now Steve can smell his cologne and it’s kinda making his head spin in a good way.
“What?” Steve mumbles in return, almost scared of anyone else hearing him, even though it’s just them back here.
There’s a mischievous look on that handsome face as the blond hums, his tone low and slow, “I’d let you break my heart, again and again and again…”
Steve’s drink slips out of his hand and falls onto the deck, spilling between their feet. Fuck. His shoes.
But it’s whatever, because he makes the guy laugh again, although softer this time. Like Steve made him laugh.
He hasn’t made anyone laugh in a while.
“I got it,” the blond purrs, taking his cigarette from his mouth and holding it to Steve’s, and he takes it between his lips silently.
He receives another little smirk for that before the blond is bending down, grabbing the red cup from the floor but not standing right away, no.
Instead, he looks up at Steve, blue eyes sharp and maybe just a little glazed over from drinking, but there’s intent there.
And, well. Steve can’t help but to imagine other things the guy could be doing down there, on his knees.
It’s silent. The only sound is the party inside, muffled, and it’s definitely his raw emotions and neediness that’s mixed terribly with alcohol that makes Steve reach down and put his thumb on those pretty lips.
And he’s not sure what the blond’s thinking, but his lips part, and his tongue coaxes Steve’s thumb inside. It’s warm and wet and the guys sucks, like he would Steve’s cock, and it makes something lost but familiar tilt its head in Steve in consideration.
Oh, he hasn’t felt this in a while.
“What was your name again?” He asks as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth with his other hand, licking his lips to wet them as he curls his index finger under the blond’s chin, keeping his thumb firmly in place.
The blond’s eyes are half-lidded as he mutters his name around Steve’s thumb, his tongue smoothing along his fingerprint, “B’lly.”
“I think you got something in your mouth there,” he hums, smiling as Billy tries to pull away but he doesn’t let him, earning him a glare.
There’s a fire in Billy’s eyes that Steve could become obsessed with.
And he feels it as Billy bites, nothing to break skin, but it’s enough for Steve to pull his hand away with a sharp ‘ow’ and Billy’s immediately standing, crowding him against the railing.
He should feel afraid, or something, but he doesn’t. Just a burning pit inside his stomach, which only grows as Billy reaches and pushes his sunglasses up to the top of his head, their eyes connecting again.
“You wanna get outta here?” Billy asks, plucking his cigarette from Steve’s hand, taking a long drag.
It’s a loaded question, full of possibilities and options. Like he’s been given a second chance at something, and it’s thrilling.
So, he nods, and follows Billy.
