Re: Atticus M/Steve M->In-person
[As Tom Petty sang and as Atticus' gaze raked over Steve, the man was returning the favor. Blue speared, shimmied over that spanking white uniform and the black block '15' bold on broad chest. Steve was only slightly embarrassed by his own appearance. He'd been up on stage, playing the part of dancing monkey in tight clothes before, but he hadn't dressed up like a damn lawman for anyone. Heat suffused pale cheeks just so, and he walked over, spurs jangling with each boot fall.] The uniform looks good on you. [He returned the compliment easily and honestly.
The man was easygoing, smooth, even at his size, and he settled comfortably with his ass against the car beside Atticus. Where the other man was clean, he, Steve, had growth, rough on cheeks and chin. Where Atticus had dark curls, he had sandy hair. His gaze wandered to the other man's mouth, to the butt of the cigarette, to the smoke that was exhaled as dragon's breath and floated above. He seemed thoughtful, did Steve, just before his grin broke again. He leaned to steal the cigarette from the football player's thick fingers. But, instead of taking a drag, he just held it cradled between forefingers as he dipped toward Atticus to kiss him. It was languid, with the teeth of heat, and Steve breathed in the other man as he tased him. After a moment, long lashes cracked over eyes and Steve said, as he brought the cigarette around to his own lips,] Does this mean I get to call you 'sport'?