Hurry, Steve, Hurry

Note: all my works are on Ao3. Enjoy.

☀︎︎

   He is dripping with sweat; hot as hell and burning up; the heat waves are just beginning. Billy quietly pants under his moist breath and dry throat. His calves and forearms were beginning to feel the burn after playing the ridiculous game for an hour straight. It's still going. And at this point he was on autopilot and was thinking of other things he found more important. He just wanted to leave right about now; speed down the rural side of town and get high on dope. He had none of that though, so a fag would do just fine. He just had to get through the last hours of this miserable day.

The screeching blow of a whistle makes his head snap over to a coach pointing at him. “ON THE BENCH, HARGROVE!” Billy quickly curls his lips in either annoyance or a shit eating grin; he could not tell which it was.

And he sat on the bench with a loud huff then snatched some unfortunate prick's towel to wipe his sweat off with one swipe. He probably heard a teammate yell at him for doing so but their pointless blabbering went from one ear and out the other. Billy is focused on something important. Something he's been focused on for a day too long. Harrington is still on the court; playing for the opposite team; shirts (Billy is skins). Harrington is the something that Billy was focused on. And he continued to stare at the lanky looking man obliterating the other team since Billy sat on the bench. He stared for an uncomfortably long time that even Harrington began to give his share of brief glances his way. The shared stares went on for the last half hour of practice. 

And it continued during their painfully long showers. He would take a short glance at Steve after wiping away the water on his eyes. All the while questioning Steve's method of rubbing his eyes with soapy hands; he never seemed to burn his eyes from doing it. There were more than a dozen guys all cramped in the showers and then there were eight. Then there were six. Then four. Then three. Then two. Billy and Steve were the last ones remaining in the lockers. And the last of the obnoxious laughing; praise of the intense game; and a hot date to catch; the rest of the guys' voices faded to silence. The showers running were the remaining sounds left within the men's lockers.

Billy turns his head intending to look at Steve and he finds the taller (only taller by an inch really) man staring at him as well. Billy grins widely as soon as Steve rushed over to kiss him. Billy was quick to pull Steve closer with his hands on his upper back; he heard a hand slam against the wall near his head. He felt Steve's other hand snake around his waist. Taking his time, Billy slides his fingers down Steve's hunched back down to his waist. His light fingers caused abnormal spasms on Steve's end. 

“You ticklish, Harrington?” Billy taunted. And his shit eating grin grew into an amusing smile. Steve kisses his cheek.

“You know the answer to that,” Steve kissed his other cheek.

“I do?” Billy raised a brow while Steve started to smother his neck with his feather light kisses.

Steve rolls his eyes as Billy laughs like a crazy person, but Steve liked that laugh weirdly enough. Scratch that; he loved that laugh. It made him smile way too much and it made his cheeks ache. “You're an asshole.” He kissed Billy slow and sweet, tilting his head just enough to lick and prod his tongue on Billy's lips. Billy pulls Steve flush against his own body and, simultaneously, sighs with so much relief. He swears all of his rational thoughts disappeared the moment Steve made the first move to kiss. And he could only nuzzle his temple against Steve's neck and cheek and press his forehead against Steve's. All while lazily grinding his hips in circular motions.