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One thing that Steve quickly learns about Billy and sex with Billy, is that he loves leaving marks. Not just in hidden places under clothes, but in very, very obvious places. He’ll bite and suck until the skin on whatever part of Steve’s body he has his wicked mouth on is purpled and throbbing.
The first time he’d done it he’d pushed Steve down on the bed before he nipped and sucked at the vee of Steve’s hip bone. He’d had to hold him down, his hips jerking with each dull scrape of the blondes teeth against his skin. The way the other boys cheeks had hollowed as he sucked and mouthed obscenely had had Steve’s dick almost painfully hard and leaking against his own stomach. Finally when he’d let the skin go and propped himself on his elbows to admire his work Steve had whined at the loss of contact.
“So fuckin’ pretty, princess.” He said, voice low and husky and sounding every bit as wrecked as Steve had felt.
Then he’d finally put his mouth where Steve had wanted it the entire time, licking broad strokes along the under side of his dick before mouthing sloppily at the tip, causing Steve’s hips to jerk again.
“Stop teasing you asshole.” Steve ground out, summoning enough energy to raise his head enough to look down at his lover. Billy just looked up at him through his eyelashes before finally really taking him into his mouth, his own hips grinding into the mattress helplessly as Steve moaned.
It had been over almost too quickly, with Billy pressing his thumb hard against the angry red mark, causing Steve’s vision to white out around the edges as he came hard.
The following day in the showers after basketball practice, Steve had the pleasure of watching Billy’s eyes darken at the sight of the now red-blue-yellow mark.
The second time it happened, Steve had had a lap full of hot, needy blonde. They’re in the camaro, parked in an empty lot on the edge of down town. They’ve been making out for ages, slowly at first, and then filthy-hot-dirty. And now Steve has his hand wrapped around Billy’s dick, stroking slowly, his other hand acting as an anchor on the other boys hip, stopping him from thrusting into his grip.
Billy is a such a beautiful mess, his blonde curls stick damply to his sweat slicked forehead, lips kiss swollen and parted. He whines and writhes in Steve’s lap, grinding down against Steve’s own erection and Steve gasps softly.
“Steve—“ the other boy chokes out, his eyes glassy. And fuck if that’s not the hottest thing Steve has seen and heard this week.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He soothes, pumping his hand a little faster. He’s rewarded with a moan as Billy’s eyes flutter closed. Fuck, he looks so pretty like this. Damn near angelic, Steve thinks, if it weren’t for the curse words tumbling from his mouth and the slick sound of his lubed up dick in Steve’s hand.
“I wanna see you fuck my hand ‘til you come. Can you do that?” Steve asks, loosening his grip enough that Billy can thrust upwards.
He probably didn’t even have to ask, with the way the other boys hips roll against his own, seamlessly keeping the rhythm as his dick thrusts in and out of Steve’s now lose grip. Billy’s hands are around Steve’s shoulders for balance, and he fists his hands in the denim of Steve’s jacket, burying his face in Steve’s neck as he pants harshly, thrusting himself closer and closer to orgasm.
Then, right as he tips over the edge, Billy sinks his teeth into the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder, making Steve grunt in pain even as his own dick twitches in his pants and Billy coats his hand and Steve’s shirt in come. Steve slowly strokes him through his orgasm, only stopping when Billy’s teeth disengage and he slides a hand down to paw weakly at Steve’s own.
Later, as he looks in the mirror at the perfect set of teeth bruised into his skin, he can’t help but feel proud that he was responsible for making Billy lose control like that.
Billy even likes marking Steve up when they’re not having sex.
One day when they’re at Steve’s house in the pool with the place all to themselves, he brings Steve’s wrist to his mouth, and begins to suck a bruise right over his pulse point. His lips are hot and wet against Steve’s skin and there’s just the right amount of teeth to make him gasp.
Billy’s eyes are dark and hungry when he finally releases his wrist, and Steve can’t help cupping his cheek and kissing him lazily as they float in the crystal blue water.
That night as they lay curled around each other in Steve’s bed relaxed and boneless after a day spent in the sun followed by amazing sex, he feels Billy’s fingers ghost across the new mark.
“Hey, why do you do that?” Steve says, finally vocalising the question that he’s had in the back of his mind for weeks. “You know, biting and giving me hickies and shit?”
Billy doesn’t turn to face him, but he doesn’t stiffen and pull away either, he just rubs his thumb gently over the bruise again before he speaks.
“I like it because it means you’re mine, I guess.” He shrugs and continues. “Like if anyone saw ‘em, they’d know you belonged to someone.”
Steve hums in understanding, turning this new information over in his mind.
“Plus you just look so fuckin’ good covered in bruises from me, pretty boy.” Steve can hear the playful smirk in his voice.
“You’re right.” He responds. “I do look good.”
They both dissolve into laughter.
One time Billy leaves a hickey on the back of Steve’s neck, right over his C7 vertebrae.
They’re fucking, and Steve is spread out beneath Billy on his knees, his head pillowed on his hands. Billy is buried inside him up to the hilt and Steve feels so full and it’s so good he can’t even form a coherent sentence.
Billy’s hands grip his hips tightly as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in, and Steve is sure there will be bruises there in the morning. But he knows by now that those aren’t going to be enough for Billy — that the other boy has this insatiable need to mark him with his mouth and teeth and tongue — and Steve loves it. He needs it, the harsh press of the other boys teeth into whatever flesh his mouth can reach followed by hard suction and soft licks.
Steve shudders as Billy presses himself over his back and fists a hand in his hair, not pulling, just holding, grounding them both in the moment. He moans shamelessly as the head of Billy’s dick brushes against that sweet spot inside of him, his breath hitching when he repeats the motion again.
It’s too much, but at the same time not nearly enough. Steve reaches down and grips himself, stroking in tandem with Billy’s thrusts as he feels his orgasm coiling tighter in his belly. Then Billy is pressing his lips to the back of Steve’s neck, nipping sharply with his teeth and sucking hard enough to bruise. It pushes Steve over the edge and he comes, Billy’s name tumbling from his lips even as he pulls the other boy over with him before they collapse into the mattress, Billy catching himself on his hands to narrowly avoid crushing Steve before he goes back to sucking the hickey onto the back of his neck.
Steve doesn’t even have the energy to protest.
Later however, he’ll complain that it’s too close to the neck of his t-shirt, and Billy will just smirk at him.
Post-sex love bites are also a thing for Billy, as Steve discovers one day.
They’re laying in his bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets, Steve has his arms behind his head, half dozing and completely blissed out. He half registers Billy saying something, but his mind is slow and sluggish still and all he can muster is a grunt in response.
This mustn’t be the response his lover is looking for, because the next thing he knows Billy is attacking the curve of his pec with his mouth and sucking hard.
“Fuck!” Steve yelped, his whole body jerking at the sensation and lightly swatting the other boy on the shoulder when he feels him smirk against his chest, and then hissing as he goes back to worrying the skin with his teeth.
“Asshole.” He grumbled even as he ran his fingers through the blondes hair.
Finally Billy releases the skin with a wet pop and they both watch as it slowly darkens to a deep red. Steve knows that the next day it will be purple, and he also knows that Billy will strip his shirt off of him at the first chance, just to admire his handiwork.
Steve finds he isn’t mad about it at all.