[ none of the little touches him really bother him - billy is comfortable enough with marcus that something as simple as brushing hands, even in the current atmosphere, isn't enough to send him shying away or feeling particularly flustered. that's not to say he's not flustered, but marcus isn't really making any of it worse. billy takes the little baggie, picks it open with his thumbs and slides one of the rolling papers out, careful not to drop anything. he rests the paper on his thigh, then pinches a decent amount of weed between his fingers, laying it out in a narrow line. it's clear that he's done this more times than he could probably count.
as marcus speaks, billy casts him a quick, sideways glance to acknowledge that he's listening, but mostly focuses on rolling a joint for the two of them. he seals the little baggie up, sets it aside, and then carefully lifts the paper off his thigh, licking one side of it before he starts to roll it, tight and precise.
billy may have more experience than marcus, but he wouldn't necessarily consider himself experienced. most if not all of his sexual encounters have been awkward or clumsy in some way, usually due to who billy is as a person, but - he's like, ninety-nine percent sure it's pretty much impossible to fuck up a handjob. short of tearing someone's dick completely off, or maybe like, wearing a bunch of uncomfortable rings, it's not really rocket science.
he's still focused on the task at hand when marcus confesses that he's a virgin in every sense, and again, billy only seems slightly surprised by it. billy pauses briefly, hands up and closer to his own face so he can inspect his own work. he looks at marcus, glances down for a second as their knees bump together, intentionally holds his leg right where it is, glances back up when marcus keeps talking.
marcus feels closer now all of a sudden, even though neither of them have really moved anywhere since they both sat down, but billy watches his mouth for a second without realizing it, paying attention to the shapes it makes as marcus says something about - viktor? who cares about viktor.
billy passes him the joint - he's the one with the matches, after all, and when marcus eventually takes it from him, billy lets his hand fall, almost kind of slow in its descent before it lands on marcus' leg, a little above his knee. he's panicking a little on the inside, but like everything, he tries to mask it with humor. ]
Viktor's got weird nipples, dude - you don't want to be built like him. [ a pause, billy's hand very still. ] Unless... you're into - that?
[ billy doesn't imagine marcus is - first of all, he's straight. secondly, viktor is a shithead. but wouldn't it be funny if both petra and marcus went after viktor? it would be just billy's luck.
he clears his throat, stares ahead at the skateboard propped up under the door. ]
... Anyway. You're hot, man. Like, uh. Ob-? Objectively? You just gotta put yourself out there. Bat those eyes, flash a little nip - I mean, if it works for Viktor, it's gotta work for someone who's not a monumental ass-clown, and like - actually attractive.
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as marcus speaks, billy casts him a quick, sideways glance to acknowledge that he's listening, but mostly focuses on rolling a joint for the two of them. he seals the little baggie up, sets it aside, and then carefully lifts the paper off his thigh, licking one side of it before he starts to roll it, tight and precise.
billy may have more experience than marcus, but he wouldn't necessarily consider himself experienced. most if not all of his sexual encounters have been awkward or clumsy in some way, usually due to who billy is as a person, but - he's like, ninety-nine percent sure it's pretty much impossible to fuck up a handjob. short of tearing someone's dick completely off, or maybe like, wearing a bunch of uncomfortable rings, it's not really rocket science.
he's still focused on the task at hand when marcus confesses that he's a virgin in every sense, and again, billy only seems slightly surprised by it. billy pauses briefly, hands up and closer to his own face so he can inspect his own work. he looks at marcus, glances down for a second as their knees bump together, intentionally holds his leg right where it is, glances back up when marcus keeps talking.
marcus feels closer now all of a sudden, even though neither of them have really moved anywhere since they both sat down, but billy watches his mouth for a second without realizing it, paying attention to the shapes it makes as marcus says something about - viktor? who cares about viktor.
billy passes him the joint - he's the one with the matches, after all, and when marcus eventually takes it from him, billy lets his hand fall, almost kind of slow in its descent before it lands on marcus' leg, a little above his knee. he's panicking a little on the inside, but like everything, he tries to mask it with humor. ]
Viktor's got weird nipples, dude - you don't want to be built like him. [ a pause, billy's hand very still. ] Unless... you're into - that?
[ billy doesn't imagine marcus is - first of all, he's straight. secondly, viktor is a shithead. but wouldn't it be funny if both petra and marcus went after viktor? it would be just billy's luck.
he clears his throat, stares ahead at the skateboard propped up under the door. ]
... Anyway. You're hot, man. Like, uh. Ob-? Objectively? You just gotta put yourself out there. Bat those eyes, flash a little nip - I mean, if it works for Viktor, it's gotta work for someone who's not a monumental ass-clown, and like - actually attractive.