#let billy recite the commercial word for word at steve

[lazybakerart]

dustin and the rest of the nerds at steve and billys wedding: we've put together a very special tape to commemorate this day. *puts in an old vhs of steves scoops ahoy commercial*

steve will never know peace after that commercial. mike makes copies of it to sell. billy buys nearly all of them - you can never be too safe, always have a back up, steve's humiliation is too precious to fall into the wrong hands.

[chrisbitchtree]

The One With Billy & Steve's Trip to Poundtown Vol. 2

Harringrove Week - Day 6

Prompt - Exhibitionism

1.2k - Contains smut

***

For months, Billy had not so subtly hinted that a video camera would make the perfect 25th birthday present for him. He would leave the catalogue from the local big box electronics store open to that page, and constantly recited the things that he could do with a video camera of his own. “Think of all the possibilities, Stevie,” he’d say as they laid in bed or went for a drive. “We could go Sasquatch hunting and I could bring back evidence, we could film our lives and show our future children that we were once cool, or I could make commercials for the store!”

Billy did have a point with that last one. They’d opened a small music shop the year before and had recently been talking to the local public access cable channel about running advertisements for the store during their programming. It would be too big of a cost to hire a production company to make commercials for them, but if he could kill two birds with one stone by using Billy’s birthday present to film it, he could justify the cost of buying the camera for him.

Steve had finally relented, putting a bit away each month until he could afford it. The other man had thanked him endlessly, and in true Billy fashion, the first thing he’d used the camera for was to film a solo sex tape for Steve’s viewing pleasure.

Steve had gotten hours of enjoyment out of it, both alone, and with Billy, using it as foreplay, or sometimes just watching it together while they jerked each other off on the couch. Steve thought back to one such time.

“Is that hot, baby?” Steve asked, stroking Billy’s dick, smearing precum down the length of it. “You like getting off to watching yourself on display for me?” On screen, Billy had three fingers jammed in his ass, and he was moaning Steve’s name like a whore as he stripped his dick at lightening speed.

“Yeah, princess,” Billy said, nodding, bucking into Steve’s fist, as he let out a loud moan. “It’s all for you. Always for you, babe.”

“Such a good boy, Billy. So good of you to do this for me,” he whispered in his boyfriend’s ear before taking his lobe between his teeth and biting sharply. Those words of praise did it for Billy, and he came, spilling over Steve’s fist. Steve stroked him through it, petting his sweaty hair. “I love you baby. Thank you for this.”

***

They’d loved Billy’s tape so much that it had inspired them to film one together. It had been a blast, thinking of different positions and filming angles, and the finished product, Billy & Steve’s Trip to Poundtown, hadn’t left the VCR in their living room for weeks, except to travel to the VCR in their bedroom. They’d finally had to cut themselves off when they found themselves watching it in the evenings instead of real movies or TV, fucking the living daylights out of each other while they watched themselves on the television.

It wasn’t long before they had a sequel in the works though. They spent even longer planning this one, renting professional porn films and watching them while they jotted down notes, trying to figure out the logistics of different moves.

“Babe, babe, come here! Check this out,” Steve would call to Billy, as the other man prepared dinner. “Do you think we could do this move?”

Billy would rush in, knife in hand, ready to make his judgments. “Not only do I think we could do it, I also think we could do it better. Put it on the list.” The aforementioned list was becoming unwieldly, and they’d started thinking about creating volumes 3 and 4.

“Done,” Steve said, scribbling it down.

***

They filmed the sex tape concurrently with the footage for the store’s commercial, which they’d also put a lot of hard work into. They’d gotten a lot of footage of the store and merchandise, along with their employees, and had found themselves having a lot of fun with that project as well. They’d even gotten one of their employees gather his band, and they played a jingle for the store in the style of Pearl Jam.

After working on the commercial for weeks, the footage was ready to send off to Robin for editing. She had just finished film school in New York, where she lived with Heather, who she was dating, and had agreed to do them a favour and edit the commercial for them.

“Thank you again, Robin,” Steve said, calling her after dropping off the tape at the UPS Store. “This is such a big help. This could mean big things for the store, and Jake’s band. We sent it express, so you should get it soon! Let me know what you think when you get it!”

She assured him that she would and ended the call, and they moved onto other topics, discussing Robin’s film work and Heather’s recent return to school for a degree in art history.

***

Recently, business had really started booming at the store, and Billy and Steve had been putting in long hours at the shop, trying to keep it stocked and organized, since they didn’t have a lot of other staff, due to budget constraints. All thoughts of the commercial and the sex tape were forgotten until a couple days later when Robin called them.

“Hey Rob,” Steve said, greeting his friend. “Did you get the tape? Is there enough footage?”

“I’ll say there was enough footage. More footage than I’d ever want to see in my lifetime. Do you care to explain what exactly why I was sent a video tape containing over two hours of you two idiots fucking all over your apartment, labeled Billy & Steve’s Trip to Poundtown Vol. 2? Which I didn’t notice until after I’d already put the tape in the VCR? Why, Steve? Why does this exist, and why is it in my hands right now?”

Steve panicked, spitting out the first lie he could think of. “We sent it as a prank! It’s hilarious, right?”

“Ummmmm,” Robin replied. “I think you and I have very different ideas of what makes for a funny joke, Dingus.”

There was an awkward pause, then Steve had to ask. “How much of it did you watch?”

“Literally 30 seconds before I realized what was going on and turned it off.”

“Oh, well that’s good. Can I get the tape back?”

“Yes,” Robin replied. “I’ll send it back. I want it out of my apartment immediately. Are you sure you don’t want me to just dispose of it though, if it’s just a prank?”

“No no,” Steve said, quickly. “I want it back. We’re going to send it to Max.”

“You’re going to send a sex tape featuring Billy to Billy’s sister?” Robin replied, incredulously.

“Wait, did I say Max? I meant Dustin,” Steve spit out, hastily.

“Less horrific, but I still maintain that you two are sickos.”

“We’re not returning the tape until I watch it all!” Heather yelled into the phone. “I have notes on your performance!”

Steve could have died right then and there, and he would have been ok with it.

***

That night, when Billy got home from the store, Steve told him the whole horrifying tale. When Billy recovered from his laughing fit, he turned to Steve. “You know,” he said. “It could be worse. We could have sent our sex tape to the cable station!”

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 7

I don’t care what Steve says; Farah Faucett could suck my ass if she thought her hairspray could hold an inch against Aqua Net.

I mean; he used the damn Fabrege conditioner, so why he didn’t just use the spray completely dumbfounded me!

He was stubborn, that’s why, but when his hair fell flat after the third hour, I’d still be sitting pretty with three to four inches of volume; and now I was sounding like a damn hairspray commercial!

I don’t even know why I was trying so hard; I didn’t even wanna go to Tina’s stupid party!

Yet here I was smudging red lipstick at the corners of my mouth, because “vampire” was the easiest costume I could throw together on short notice.

At least the fangs I picked up at Melvald’s were the good adhesive kind, and not the clunky Dracula ones that’d leave you drooling the whole night.

And it helped that in my new mini skirt; I looked pretty damn hot, if I did say so myself. Dad would probably lock me up if he saw me in it, let alone the fishnets I was rolling over my thighs; the snap of the elastic leaving a red mark on the skin.

Billy Hargrove was gonna drop dead when he saw me in this; and why the hell was I thinking about him again?!

It’s not like I even liked the asshole; with his stupid baby blue eyes, and that dumb pretty boy smile! I just wanted to make him as frustrated as he made me; albeit in a very different way.

He deserved it!

He’d been a shit all week and if I wanted to make his pants a little tighter than comfortable, it was my choice.

And besides; I already got called a tease, so why shouldn’t I live up to the reputation a little bit.

I practically doused myself with a bottle of Poison my dad got me for my sixteenth birthday, entirely unaware of the reputation the scent carried, because if Billy Hargrove could smell like he walked out of a trashy drugstore perfume aisle, then so could I.

With one last fluff of my hair I was pretty much ready to go.

“Alright; so there’s dinner in the oven and soda in the fridge...” I announced as I made my way out of the bathroom and across the living room to get my keys. I don’t think El was listening; she was too engrossed in flicking through Friday night television, typical kid.

Welll; typical, if every kid could change the channel with their mind.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be alright until dad’s back?” I asked, entirely aware that although practically super powered; she was still a kid and might not be comfortable being left alone in the middle of the woods for half the night.

“Five one five.” She repeated my dad’s words, as if they meant anything more than wind when put up against Jim Hopper’s terrible timekeeping skills.

I sighed and walked over to her, knowing that for the hundredth time I was going to have to explain the flexibility of my dad’s promises.

“Look; I know dad said that, but he’s not the best at keeping promises..” I began to explain, but El seemed to have picked up on some of that Hopper stubbornness we prided ourselves on.

“Friends don’t lie.” She recited her own little mantra when it came to promises; something she lorded over dad as if he hadn’t been guilt tripped at least a thousand times before.

“But fathers do...” I sighed, knowing that I wasn’t going to get through to her this time.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” I asked, dropping myself down on the couch next to her as I decided to change tactics.

“Cuz I can stay in if you want me to...” I offered; the idea still sounding more appealing than playing a game of cat and mouse with Billy Hargrove all night.

She didn’t respond; eyes still fixed on yet another soda commercial; it was true what they said, there really are more commercials than actual programmes.

Her mouth was fixed in a straight line; mind fully focused on the flickering TV set. I didn’t like it.

I reached across to begin tickling her ribcage; something I knew would have her in stitches within seconds.

“We can eat junk food and gripe about how much of an ass dad is...” I continued to tempt her between tickles; her grim facade broken by a fit of giggles. Superkid or not; she was still only human.

“Stop! Stop! I’m fine!” She insisted between laughter, and I stopped, because I knew she could look after herself; and unlike dad, I liked to give the kid a little leeway when it came to trust.

“Are you sure?” I asked; still hesitant to leave her despite the reassurance otherwise.

She gave me a resolute nod, leaving me no choice but to get up from the couch and grab my jacket.

“Okay; well, I’ll try not to be out too late...” I promised as I shrugged on my leather jacket, still not holding out any hope for dad being home tonight.

I was about to walk out the door, when I remembered something that was sure to put a smile on her face.

“Oh; and I almost forgot...” I said, making my way over to her and leaning in to mock whisper in her ear.

“There’s Eggos hidden in the back of the icebox.”

A wide grin spread across her face that told me none of those Eggos would still be there when my dad got home from work.

Served him right for making promises he can’t keep.

I gave her messy curls a ruffle, making my way back over to the door, before I gave her one last light warning.

“Just don’t tell dad I told you.” I said, before opening the front door and stepping out into the night.

My Triumph waited half hidden by dad’s shed; it’s frame covered by a dust sheet just to further aid the illusion of abandonment.

I stripped it off, pulling the bike upright and mounting up. Keys in the ignition, then a few good kicks of the starter and she was purring like a kitten. Ready for a night of drunkenness and debauchery I wasn’t sure I’d want to remember in the morning.