If I Stare Too Long

Chapter 13: You Know I Can't Let You (Slide Through My Hands)

Another D&D session means going over to Steve's. It means spending another day soaking up Steve's time and attention. It means getting Steve to himself for a while, while Eddie leads his merry band of dweebs along on some imaginary adventure.

To say Billy is looking forward to it– is nervous about it– would be an understatement. He feels like his skin is too tight, too small like it can barely contain him. They haven't seen Steve in more than in passing in just over a week; Steve was too busy with work and probably with avoiding the weight of their eyes whenever they look at him. He seems all too aware of how they look at him now– and while he doesn't seem to dislike it, he also doesn't seem to know what to do with it, either.

He lets the kids into the house before looking at the two of them marching up the short flight of stairs leading up to his front door, standing there in nothing by running shorts and those stupid three-striped knee-high socks– and a band shirt that might actually be one of Eddie's. It also might be wishful thinking.

"I brought an extra character sheet," Eddie tells him, singing his words a little, waggling his brows as he sidles up.

Hand on a hip, Steve braces against the outer edge of his open front door and arches an unimpressed brow. Inside, the kids are loud, even from all the way in the living room.

"I'm still not interested," Steve half sings back, but Eddie's face lights up.

"C'mon," Eddie crowds a little close, lower lip jutting out. "Please? Pretty please?"

"No."

"I'll make it worth your while," Eddie promises.

"Doubtful," Steve chirps back and then glances over at Billy.

His ears and the back of his neck are all red. Have been since they walked up the steps. But he's not tucking tail and running for the hills. He's not slamming the door in their face. He's not even telling Eddie to back off when he shuffles a little closer–

Just eyes him, breath catching a little, expression carefully calm.

Eddie laces his fingers in front of his face like he's praying, face a hyperbole of desperation. "Please, please, please–"

"Does he have an off switch?" Steve asks.

Billy chokes back all of the obvious answers, giving a little shrug. His face feels a little warm.

When Steve glances at him, and sees his face, his breath stalls again– pink finally chasing its way across his nose and cheeks as he looks back at Eddie.

"Please with a cherry on top," Eddie adds. "With a whole jar of cherries–"

Hand coming off his hip, Steve reaches out and catches Eddie by the front of his shirt. Gives a little tug– has Eddie stumbling the last few steps into him– and angles his head to catch Eddie's mouth with his own.

It's a long but simple press of their lips. Eddie flails for half a second and has to brace a hand against the open door Steve's still leaning against, jostling them– the other a needy flex by his thigh like he's fighting the urge to simply take and have.

Billy understands the desire. There's a fire in his chest, threatening to burn him up from the inside out.

And then Steve is breaking the kiss with a little, wet smack. Pulling back, teeth catching at his own lower lip, eyes darting between the both of them. Eddie is staring at him the same way that Billy is– like he's too afraid to move, for fear of frightening Steve off– or for fear of what he might do.