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I'm On Fire

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“You have some shitty taste in music Stevie.” Billy says as he thumbs through his cassettes. They were over at his house, as usual, with his parents away for the weekend. As usual.

Normally, he hated how often his parents were gone, but now that he and Billy were together, he was happy for every moment they could spend alone.

It was hell being with someone and having to hide it, all he wanted to do was to shout it from the mountain tops, but that wasn’t a possibility with Billy.

At least not here. Not now.

For now, he would savor every moment he could get with him, even if it consisted of Billy insulting his musical taste left and right.

“We sure listen to a lot of my stuff, considering how shitty it is.” He says with a laugh as he lays back on the bed. He can’t help but admire his boyfriend’s frame, muscular yet lean, clad in his cut off tee and basketball shorts.

“It’s only because you bitch so much when we listen to my stuff.” Billy says with a snort, as he picks up a cassette and looks at it closely.

“That metal shit you listen to gives me a headache.” He says, sniping back at Billy. For how many things they couldn’t agree on, he loved everything about Billy.

Not that he had told him yet.

Billy could be skittish about feelings about the best of times, so he knew he had to tread carefully. One time he jokingly called him his partner and Billy looked like he was about to have an asmtha attack and shit his pants.

“Sorry you can’t appreciate quality music. Honestly, most of the stuff you own, chicks would be embarrassed to admit they owned.” Billy says as he opens a cassette and pops it into his stereo. The music begins to play and he recognizes it instantly.

“Hey little girl is your daddy home?”

He lets out a snort, “Out of all the music you could pick, this is the one you go for? Who knew you were a secret Springsteen fan?”

Billy begins to shimmy towards him, mouthing the words to the song. He immediately feels his mouth go dry and Billy continues to make his way closer, moving his hips to the song and grinding them to the beat.

“I got a bad desire. Oh-oh-oh I’m on fire.” Billy mouths, licking his lips as his keeps his eyes fixed on his.

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you? And can he do to you the things that I do? Oh, no
I can take you higher. Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire” Billy mouths, climbing on top of him where he lays on the bed. He straddles his hips and grinds down gently as he sings alone to the song. He reaches his hands up to place them on Billy’s hips and immediately Billy grabs him by the wrists, pinning them down besides his head.

He grinds on him slowly, keeping his hands pinned as he leans down close and licks a strip on his neck before continuing the lyrics as he sings soft and low into his ear.

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull. And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull.” Billy murmurs into his ear, low and growly, while grinding against him and driving him out of his fucking mind.

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet. And a freight train running through the middle of my head. Only you can cool my desire.” Billy whispers out the words between biting his neck and sucking it gently. He’s grinding against him so harshly now he has to bite his lip from letting a moan coming out. He is not going to get off to Billy dry humping him to Springsteen.

“Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire. Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire. Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire.” Billy whispers in his ear as the song finishes. He finally lets go of his wrists and is off of him before he can even react.

“Fuck you, you are not getting me turned on to a Springsteen song and then bolting off.” He says, sitting up suddenly in bed. He can feel that his cheeks are flushed and he sounds breathy to his own ears.

“Admit you have shitty taste in music.” Billy says with the most shit-eating grin he has ever seen.

“I have the worst music taste in the history of all mankind and I will scream about it for hours unless you get back in this bed right now.” He shouts, feeling like he’s going to crawl out of his own skin.

“No need to shout about it pretty boy.”

“Why the hell do I love you again?” He asks with a laugh. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until he sees Billy’s expression turn into one of shock.

“Oh shit.” He mutters, wondering how he could be such a fucking idiot. That was the complete opposite of treading carefully.

“What did you just say?” Billy asks, so softly he can barely hear him over the Springsteen still playing.

“Can we please just forget about it? It just kind of came out and I know you hate feelings and all that bullshit and… can we please just pretend that didn’t happen?” He pleads, wishing he could take it all back.

“No. We can’t.” Billy says ominously.

“Well fuck then.” He says, falling back onto the bed. He doesn’t want to look at Billy, not for what he knows is coming next. Billy will talk about how he doesn’t do feelings or storm out or something else that will be equally as devastating. He knows its going to happen, he just doesn’t want to have to watch it happen.

“We can’t.” Billy says. He closes his eyes for a moment and expects to hear the door click as Billy leaves. Instead he hears a few, careful steps of him moving closer to the bed.

“We can’t, because I love you too. Dickhead.” Billy whispers, climbing on top of him again as he says it.

“You… you do?” He asks, his eyes jolting open. Billy is above him, smiling down, hair glistening in the mid afternoon light.

“I do.” Billy says before leaning down and kissing him gently, before pulling back and smiling at him even wider.

“And you just had to add the dickhead part in there.” He says with a laugh. He should have known Billy Hargrove would be such a romantic.

“I did.” Billy says with a smirk.