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[camarod]

psycho man

bhargrove#1969

---

ABOUT ME

fuck off.

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Comments

[camarod]

This is how you treat the guy buying you a house?

[retromix]

... Oh, yeah. I'll kick your ass after you buy me a house.

[ :') ]

[camarod]

Keep threatening me with a good time and see what happens.

[retromix]

I get a good time?

[camarod]

Yeah, yeah, sure.

[retromix]

Scale of one to ten, how good?

[camarod]

Maybe a solid nine.

[retromix]

Oh, I only accept fifteens.

[camarod]

Damn Harrington, you got me working overtime already.

[retromix]

I'm just making sure you can keep up.

[camarod]

I’m not gonna stand for this slander.

[retromix]

Who says you have to be standing?

[camarod]

I mean yeah. I’m never really standing for overtime.

[retromix]

I prefer a relaxing lie-down, usually on the couch.

[camarod]

Sounds pretty vanilla.

[retromix]

I didn't say I was laying on my back.

[camarod]

I knew you were all play and no work, Harrington.

[retromix]

[ Just to get his own back, he sends a pic. It's taken from over his shoulder and his shirt has ridden up his waist to expose his hips, joggers low. On his couch, knees spread and a curve to the line of his slightly sweaty spine that arches his ass up in the sunshine. It's a cute summery pic, a little spicy.

It feels like playing basketball with Billy again, shoving back when pushed. ]

You're so rude.

[retromix]

[ A moment later, because technology is hard: ]

Did you get it?

[camarod]

[He’s been doing stuff, before. Cleaning away his clothes, tidying away his video accessories. Now he’s on his bed sprawled out in summer exhaustion, privately soothed by the back and forth, feeling a little loose.

He hums, blinking at the ceiling. ] Hm? Hold on, [and checks wit this phone hovering his face. He knows, he fucking knows his breathless, startled little groan is audible. Knows he’s just conceded some kind of loss here, because he shouldn’t zoom in, shouldn’t rake his eyes over every inch of Steve Harrington’s back and ass, knows that Steve really, probably, shouldn’t have sent this.

He swallows, exhales hard. ] Shit. Yeah. Always pegged you as a tighty whitey’s kinda dude.

[Steve Harrington’s going to get him in so much fucking trouble.]

[retromix]

[ At least he's fully clothed, just a little rumpled on the couch with some moles and freckles available for counting on his lower back. ]

You think the stupidest things, sometimes. You and Eddie both.

[camarod]

[Oh, he’s counting, feeling some kind of way about the little flash if skin and the curve of Steve Harrington’s ass. It feels a little like guilt.]

Must be why we get on so nice.

[retromix]

Feral is a good word for the both of you.

[ It's said with a certain degree of fondness, though. He feels a little naughty, having sent that pic; a little guilty. He doesn't regret teasing him, it feels warm and friendly and he's sure Billy would tell him where to go if he crossed a line. ]

I don't know what I'd do without having you both here. Go out of my mind, probably.

[camarod]

You’d be bored, man, but you’d be fine. Everyone loves Steve Harrington.

[retromix]

They really don't, dude.