Archive of Our Own ^beta

They lay in bed, letting hands rove over each other’s bodies. Steve’s hand catches Billy’s, and he runs his fingertips over the lines. He notices the tips of some of Billy’s fingers are smooth and ridge-less.

“How’d this happen?”

“Hn?” Billy’s been half asleep this whole time and didn’t catch Steve’s meaning, “How’d what happen?”

“This,” Steve rubs his thumb over the smooth pad of one of Billy’s fingers, “was it work?”

“Oh. No.”

Steve waits a beat before trying again.

“So, what caused it?”

“Just burned my fingers bad a couple times. ‘S nothing.”

“You burned your fingers? How, if it wasn’t work?”

Billy shifts and starts mouthing at Steve’s neck, tasting the skin just below his jawline, but Steve pulls away.

“No, tell me how you got these.”

Billy sits back and sighs. He gives Steve a long look, one meant to say ‘Really?’ and ‘Do I have to?’ He sighs again for good measure.

“When I was a stupid kid, I set things on fire…a lot.”

“What, really?” Steve presses.

“Yeah, used to get into all kind of shenanigans. Set a car on fire once.”

“Oh my god, there wasn’t anyone in it, was there?”

Billy snorts and gives Steve a condescending look, “Of course not, stupid, I won’t be here if that was the case. No, it was in a junkyard and I trespassed and lit the thing up.”

“Oh, good…” Steve went back to playing and tangling his fingers with Billy’s, “Why?”

Billy sighs again, “why what?”

“Why did you light things on fire?”

“Dunno, was an angry kid,” Billy tugs his hand from Steve’s and instead smoothed it down Steve’s chest, “Had a shitty dad. Then he got remarried and he didn’t want to see me around anymore…and I didn’t want to spend any time with any of them either.”

“What about your mom?”

“Mom’s gone. Has been most of my life, and home left with her.”

Steve cups the back of Billy’s head and maneuvers it so he’s resting against Steve’s chest. Billy’s fiddling with the waistband of Steve’s boxers and the hair that disappears under it.

“So, what happened?”

“Got picked up,” Billy snuggles further into the crook of Steve’s neck, wraps a leg around him, “Set straight. Was told that if I wanted to play with fire, I should learn to do it the right way.”

“So you became a firefighter,” Steve smiles softly and strokes a hand through Billy’s hair.

“Yup, never really looked back.”

They go quiet again, gentle strokes and soft grabs. At some point they start kissing, first just a forehead, then a nose, a cheek or two, then their lips are touching, like butterfly wings. Those lips move against each other for a time, before they open and swipes of tongue add a soft heat. They swap those lazy kisses back and forth until they start to doze off again. Steve stares at the ceiling, contemplating the quiet.

“This can be your home, you know?”

Billy nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder and hides a smile.

“Yeah, I know.”