Stonathan ❤️

91

NOT MINE!!

all credits go to SteveTheHouseWife on ao3

Chapter 2:

Thankfully, come Friday night, Jonathan's assigned to cleaning the rooms after each movie instead of working the concession stand, giving him more freedom to position himself perfectly come 9 o'clock.

He's almost shaking by the time he punches out for lunch, still kind of nervous about the whole thing and waiting for it to all blow up in his face.

Jonathan opens the door and glances out to see Steve already waiting there, leaned with his back against the wall and smoking.

He looks kind of nervous too, ruffled around the edges, hair a little more wild; it could just be because it's late and Steve had a game, but there's also a sharp look to his eyes that makes him look dangerous, ready for a fight, and Jonathan starts to flinch away when Steve turns them on him.

Is he about to have the shit beat out of him?

Steve lets out a puff of smoke through his nose and stands upright, throwing down the cigarette and stepping it out before walking in with his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

He takes one back out and offers Jonathan a roll of bills that he doesn't bother looking at, stuffing them in his back pocket as their eyes meet, that familiar charge of energy rushing over him once more.

"Lead the way?"

Jonathan shrugs, smirking, "You said you knew a few places," he trails off, shrugging when Steve lifts a brow, "What can I say, I'm curious."

Steve relaxes a little, finally, a smirk coming over his face and Jonathan feels his own shoulders drop in relief, "Alright, Byers, I'll show you where I take the girls, but only if you promise not to snitch on me about it."

"Promise," Jonathan mutters as Steve heads off and Jonathan's quick to follow.

Steve pushes through the employee door by the screen, leading him back to the small room where the levers are and Jonathan can tell Steve knows exactly what he's doing when he moves past them and positions Jonathan in the furthest corner of the tiny space, out of the light and they both dip into the darkness, likely disappearing completely from sight. Anyone looking in probably wouldn't see them at all.

"I've been thinking about this all day," Steve says, his hands dropping down to Jonathan's pants as his eyes start to adjust, able to make out the perfect outline of his face.

It's a surprising admission for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Jonathan's just taken aback entirely by the fact that Steve was anticipating something, anything, that involved him directly. Sure, they agreed to this and Steve came to him, but Jonathan was on the receiving end, and Steve was left doing all the work and paying all the money for it.

And yet... he's the one anticipating it just as much as Jonathan is, if not more.

Jonathan doesn't really mind that he smells like a chimney, but he's thankful Steve doesn't kiss him, that he skips all of that and kneels before him, pulling his cock out and Jonathan can barely make out the shape of his hair, can't even see his face when that warmth envelopes him.

Steve's movements aren't at all like the first time. He's rushed, desperate, like he can't get enough, fast enough. All Jonathan can do is drop back against the wall and put his hands in the guy's hair like he did before.

His mouth is a warm, open channel that takes Jonathan in deep to the hilt and Steve doesn't so much as gag or choke. He told him he was doing this to get good, but he already is (as far as Jonathan's concerned, at least), whether it's natural talent or a lie is unclear, but he sucks Jonathan's cock like he's been doing it for years.