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Steve thought he was going crazy. No, he KNEW he was going crazy, because why else would he think that Billy’s hair looked like spun gold out in the darkening rays of the day's sunshine? Sweet words from his childhood bedtime stories were swirling around in his brain, and the story of Sleeping Beauty came to mind. Or was it Rumpelstiltskin? Rapunzel? Would he prick his fingers if he ran his hands through the shining golden curls? Would Billy let him? He couldn’t believe he was contemplating it, but he really wanted to find out.
“Hey, got a light?” Steve asked as he slid up next to Billy, his movements tentative as if he expected the blond to haul off and punch him on a whim, especially now that he was leaning next to him on the hood of his Camaro. Billy might have followed through with the punch if he had glanced at who was bumming a light off of him, but he didn’t even look up as he fumbled for his lighter. He must have been so lost in thought he didn’t even yell at Steve when he sat his jean clad ass on his baby’s pristine hood.
“Shit. I must have left it in the car,” Billy swore around the cigarette in his mouth. He startled a bit once he noticed it was Steve who was asking. Steve smiled tentatively and lifted his cig in solidarity before placing it between his lips, letting it hang between them like an unsolved problem.
Instead of flailing or shoving him away, Billy just shrugged and grabbed the back of Steve’s head, pulling him towards him so that their cigs met in the middle. Steve’s gasp helped light the tip, and Billy’s responding chuckle almost made him choke on his inhale.
“Thanks.” Steve's voice cracked on delivery, and he felt his cheeks get warm, but it wasn’t from the smoke. He let his cig dangle from his fingers as he contemplated Billy’s minute kindness.
“No problem, pretty boy. I mean, it was just the tip,” Billy said with a wink, and Steve made a sound like a dying windup toy, a mix between a whine and a huff of frustration. Billy looked at him with confusion, but barely had enough time to react as Steve pulled the cigarette from his lips and threw both it and his own to the ground.
“I’ll give you another one,” Steve mumbled in reply to Billy’s shout of, “Hey!” just before smashing their faces together, smoke leaking out between the side of their mouths like an angry dragon guarding his hoard.
Billy was stiff at first as Steve mouthed at his lips, protecting his face from Steve’s spit-slicked kiss, but then Steve felt Billy wrap a hand around the back of his neck again before opening his mouth. Once Steve felt the tip of Billy’s tongue against his, he cracked, like Humpty Dumpty falling off the wall, his guts spilled out along the sidewalk as he melted into the kiss. He moaned and pushed his fingers into Billy’s curls, holding him in place as Steve devoured him.
They kissed until they ran out of breath, then they kissed some more. Billy’s hand squeezed his thigh, and it felt like it was burning a hole in Steve’s jeans. He wanted to rip them off just to be closer, to feel Billy’s sun-kissed skin against his. He was hot to the touch and smelled of coconut oil and smoke, just like what Steve imagined a California beach bonfire would, if he ever got the chance to attend one. He ignored the ashy taste of cigarettes that lined both their tongues.
Their kissing slowed, and eventually it came to a stop. As they pulled away from each other to catch their breaths, Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath to center himself. He had wanted to kiss Billy for a long time, but he never had the guts to make it happen until now. He wasn’t sure what had pushed him to act today; maybe it was the way Billy looked iridescent in the sun, his curls golden and dancing in the wind. Perhaps it was because they were alone at the quarry, or maybe it was because Billy didn’t think twice before lighting Steve’s cigarette with the tip of his own. It was probably all three.
Steve came back to himself when he felt Billy pawing at his pocket and he whined at the scrape of Billy’s large hands against his jeans. Steve could tell he was blushing and opened his eyes to see an equally red-faced man trying to avoid eye contact while stuffing his whole hand in his pocket, and not in a sexy way. Steve slapped Billy's hands away from his hip before fishing the last of his pack out of his pocket and tossing it at the blond. Billy caught it against his stomach, which only highlighted the bunch of his jeans below his hand. That then became another issue.
Steve stared at Billy’s crotch where the extra folds of fabric did nothing to hide the hard-on he was sporting. That caused Steve’s hand to shoot to his own lap, hiding his obvious reaction. Billy snorted and spread his legs more.
“Like what you see, Harrington?” Billy mumbled before lighting his gifted cigarette.
“What? Uh, no, what?” Steve stuttered, his cheeks warming again, while his crotch reacted to the way Billy’s lips curved around his cig. His cock kicked up against his palm as Billy licked his canines before blowing out a steady stream of smoke from shiny, puckered lips. He looked like he wanted to gobble Steve up— the better to eat you with my dear , his brain helpfully provided.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re busted,” Billy stated, pointing at him before taking another puff. Steve just tilted his head, but then his eyes widened when it finally hit him that Billy’s cigarette was lit and he was waving a perfectly working lighter in his face.
“Well fuck,” Steve said as he chuckled, but the situation was so bizarre, so unlike him, that his giggles gained momentum until he was laughing full out, clutching his stomach. Billy just huffed at him and shook his head, but Steve saw the way his lips quirked into a smile. It was just light enough out for him to see Billy’s cheeks turn a dusty pink in the dying light.
“So, what are we going to do now that I caught you, pretty boy?” Billy asked, looking at Steve sideways through lidded eyes, his golden lashes flashing in the last rays of the summer sun as he blinked.
“How about we drive to my house and we can talk about it?” Steve’s voice went higher the closer Billy got to him, even if he had just scootched over on the hood. Their thighs were pressed up against each other, and Steve was having a hard time thinking beyond the heat between their bodies
“What if I don’t want to talk about it?” Billy asked, his voice lower than its usual register, and Steve didn’t know whether Billy was coming on to him or if he was threatening him. Either one was likely at this point, and neither involved talking.
“Oh? Well, that's fine too.” Steve sagged in place, thinking it was more likely a threat. Times were weird and being not straight was frowned upon. Steve had no idea what he was, but he knew he liked girls and was attracted to Billy, even if Billy probably didn’t reciprocate his feelings.
Billy made an odd, strangled sound next to him, and Steve looked up to see his brows drawn down in confusion.
“What? Is there snot on my face or something?” Steve asked as he patted his face down and swiped at his nose.
“You’re a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.”
“Wait, you are?”
“I kissed you back!” Billy yelled, the words echoing around Steve’s head as well as the quarry. That’s right, he did. Steve smiled, a small dopey thing that caused Billy’s shoulders to release their tension as he took one last puff of his smoke before throwing it down and standing to stomp it out.
“Come on, Harrington. Let’s go talk about it, ” Billy emphasized the last few words as he started to round the car, but that wasn’t where Steve’s mind was anymore.
“What if I don’t want to talk about it?” Steve stood and tilted his head towards Billy in question as he followed.
“Make up your–” Billy fully turned towards him, frustration finally overflowing, but Steve cut him off with his lips. Billy’s grip on his hair was a little harder, his kisses more desperate, his moans deeper this time as Steve angled Billy back against the side of the Camaro.
“Are you ready to–”
“Shut up! Less talking, more kissing.”
Steve huffed against Billy’s lips and wound an arm around his waist, closing the distance between their bodies while reaching for the door handle. Maybe he could maneuver them into the back of the car where he could finally get his hands on his own golden goose.