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Billy Hargrove, 20

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[guitarpicks]

Deal. And--- fuck -- you know what aftercare is, man. I know you do. ( Eddie ends up hissing, the words melting into a groan as Billy starts to bring his cock back into the conversation. or Eddie out of the conversation and back into the moment.

Billy's mouth is a blessing and a curse; currently sinfully sweet as he licks, teases, and sucks at Eddie's cockhead. he groans, hips staying still but the hand in Billy's hair tightening around the locks and giving him a push down.

he's just as done talking about it for now too, would rather reap the benefits of what comes after. )

[otherbitches]

[ Does he know what aftercare is? Sure, but he never would have called it that before. Wouldn't have performed much of it before, either, not back home when he never really gave a shit about any of the girls he was fucking. But he knows enough now, knows he likes the kissing, the warm rags washing away sweat and spend. He even likes the spooning, doing it or having it be done. But that's not aftercare, that's just not being a cunt.

His tongue licks, flicks, mouth closing and sucking sweetly on the tip of Eddie's cock. He sinks down further, further, until Eddie's cock is bumping against the back of his throat and Billy can taste him, smell him, focus on all of this instead of all of that— the feelings bullshit. ]

[guitarpicks]

( if Billy were to voice any of that, Eddie would roll his eyes and take a deep breath. since the blonde doesn't, Eddie only hisses, ) Brat.

( it's fond, though, because Billy's attention is all on his cock and Eddie's doing his best to not fuck his throat the moment he feels his cockhead against the soft, warm muscles twitching around him. Billy's good with his mouth; Eddie tells him as much as he rocks his hips up and tightens his grip in his hair, ) You're lucky you've got such a good mouth on you, baby. Or we'd keep talking.

[otherbitches]

[ Eddie calls him a brat and Billy sucks hard, a quick, harsh suction punctuated by his teeth gently pressing against the root of Eddie's dick. Billy thinks at him: ] You're lucky you've got such a nice dick.

[ He takes his time, focuses on Eddie's dick, eye lids fluttering closed when he breathes and lets the head settle further against the back of his throat, in his throat. It's a unique kind of worship, of seeking comfort. He sucks Eddie's dick like it's an apology, like it's the only thing he wants to be doing. He sucks Eddie's dick until Eddie's straining, thighs tense, and he's surprised when he's eased off, when Eddie says what he wants.

It says a lot about Billy, about who he's become here, that he's surprised. But he gets it; presses his spit-slick mouth to Eddie's and kisses him while he fingers him open with spit and oil. The first time he fucked Eddie, he was mad with bloodlust and had him bent over against a tree. He doesn't now, gets both hands on Eddie's thighs and holds him open while Billy nudges the head of his dick against his hole.

He presses in slow, eyes still half-lidded and cock drunk from holding Eddie in his throat. He folds over him when he's fully sheathed, mumbles in a raspy voice against his neck, ] I love— this. I love this.