11

[monkiainen]

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[Fill] When the Lights Come On Again Part 2/4, OMC/Steve, fantasies about Steve the pinup boy

[anonymous]

And whereas in real life, Frankie’d be more apt to stammer or joke, in his head, he just gives Cap a sly kinda smile that wouldn’t look out of place in one of Howard Hughes’ films. “What do ya need a towel for?” Frankie says. “The sun feels swell.”

Steve grins that grin of his in response and stretched his big arms to the sky. Each night, Frankie painted in one of a thousand different torsos here from a thousand beautiful soldiers he had seen in this exact pose, but he could never get Steve just right. Seems to him that Steve should be better than anything Frankie’s ever seen, and Frankie didn’t even know how to imagine that. “You’re right,” Steve tells Frankie. “The sun is nice.” Then he gives a Frankie a look that makes Frankie’s cock stiffen, a sort of low-lidded, lip-parted stare Frankie’d seen Jean Harlow give. This was how inexperienced he was thinking about men-his only frame of reference was what he found sexy in women. But it worked on Steve. God does it work as Steve lowers himself next to Frankie, lying on his towel by the side of the pool. “How do you say we pass the time while we dry off?” Steve murmurs in Frankie’s ear.

They’ve passed the time a lot of ways by now. At first, Frankie’d picture himself giving it to Steve, the good Captain stretched out and moaning underneath him. But that was more from lack of imagination than desire. He did the same thing to Cap that he’d done to Dotty before he’d shipped out and while he couldn’t wait to do it to Dotty again, that wasn’t what he wanted to do here. Next he pictured Cap giving it to him, sometimes hard and fast in the way you can only ever do it your head, sometimes slow and gentle, one finger at a time until Frankie’s writhing and shaking underneath him. “Give it up, Frankie,” Steve purrs as he strokes that sweet spot. “You look so damn handsome right now.”

Frankie had jerked himself off and pretended it was Steve’s hand. He’d rutted himself against a pillow and pretended it was Steve’s thighs clenched together. Once-only once, mind you, because once was enough-he’d given it to a banana peel and pretended it was Steve’s back door. It’d felt alright, better than Frankie had thought it would when Private Vega had told him about it, but it wasn’t worth the unending peals of laughter it’d evoked from Daniel when he’d walked in on it. “Jesus, Frankie,” Daniel’d said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I know you’re desperate, but you don’t have to start fucking the food.”

Tonight, Frankie closed his eyes and dove into his favorite fantasy, the one that made his toes curl no matter what, the one he couldn’t go near during the day time unless he had his helmet strategically located in his lap. Steve pulls himself up out of the pool, smiles, asks for the towel. Frankie smiles back and flirts, and Steve lies down. Same as usual. Except this time, when Steve asks how they should pass the time, Frankie sits himself up and pushes Steve all the way down. “I’ve got an idea,” Frankie says. He knows from (his imagined) experience that the trunks come off as easily as it looks like they will, but Frankie leaves them on for now. Steve’s cock is hot and thick, even through the damp fabric, and Frankie runs his fingertips over it, just outlining it so gentle that Steve has to shake.

“Come on,” Steve says when he can’t take it anymore, when his trunks are tenting so high that Frankie almost scared of what will come out of them. Steve’s clenching his fists so hard, they’re turning white, and Frankie’s not cruel enough to leave him like this, so he’ll take care of him soon enough. But first, Frankie lowers his face against the wet fabric and mouths at the hardened cock. Somewhere above him, Steve swallows his curses as Frankie works his way down the shaft, wrapping his mouth around the side like a series of wet kissed. When he wraps his lips around the tip, the taste of pool water and precum nearly makes Frankie climax right then. “Please,” Steve begs and Frankie can’t wait any longer either. Two fingers are enough to pull Steve’s trucks down, and as the fabric scrapes over his cock, Steve twists and moans.