Work Text:
Billy's the first customer in Scoops Ahoy this Saturday morning.
The shop is empty except for Steve who's behind the counter, staring dead into the air with a bored little pout, zoned out. When Billy slams down a small box in front of him, causing him to jump into the air and gasp as if he wasn't even breathing anymore.
Steve looks down at the little heart shaped box, then up at Billy, whose face is flushed and scowling slightly.
“Do you... want me to give these to Robin?” Steve asks and points at the red cardboard.
“What?” Billy's knitted eyebrows phases from maybe angry to somewhat confused.
“You know, she's not, uhh...” Steve scratches the back of his neck, and looks at the closed partition behind him. “She's not... interested.”
“They're not for Buckley!” His voice a bit too forceful, but the nerves are killing him.
“Oh?” Now it's Steve's turn to look confused with a raised brow. “I don't... understand? I'm not-”
The other brow shoots up, and his doe eyes go impossibly big, mouth slack with realization.
“Oh...”
And there's a heavy, ecstatic silence between them. Billy's refusing to meet Steve's gaze, arms crossed and fists twitching like he's ready to fight.
“Billy...”
He's ready to turn around and stomp out, get in his car and drive off a fucking cliff, Jesus, he's so close to shaking with unfamiliar fear. There's a lot of things Billy's afraid of, but this is the first time he's scared of rejection from someone. From Steve.
“Why are you giving me chocolates, exactly?” Steve rests with his palms on the counter, continuously inattentive to social cues.
And Billy's afraid he's about to die, the cause being he has to say why. “Because it's valentine's day?”
“So? That doesn't explain anything.”
God fucking damnit. Holy fucking shit. Jesus Christ.
Billy's in love with the dumbest, most idiotic, oblivious, gorgeous, dark haired beauty in possibly all of America, and he just can't take it any more-
Reaches out to grab on to that stupid, little uniform, and pulls Steve towards him to meet halfway over the counter. Lips pressed together with brutal force, his heart racing in his chest, skin burning.
When Steve finally reacts. Pushes into the embrace, moves his hands up to cup Billy's face. Makes a daring move, as he brings his tongue to lick against the seams of Billy's lips, who oh so eagerly opens up.
Billy tastes of Marlboro reds.
Steve tastes of strawberry ice cream.
But when Billy eventually remembers where they are, he shoves Steve away, sending the poor employee staggering on his feet and barely catching himself.
And he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grins triumphantly at how Steve's all disheveled and blushing now, then heads for the door.
“See you later, Harrington,” he throws all casual and nonchalant over his shoulder, as if the rest of his day won't taste wonderfully of strawberry ice cream.