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“Axel,” Billy gasps, “that was…”
“Incredible, I know,” Axel replies, grinning. He snakes one arm under Billy’s shoulders and pulls him against him, pressing a kiss against his sweaty forehead. Billy closes his eyes and turns on his side, snuggling up against Axel’s torso, wrapping his arm around his waist. As he catches his breath, Axel glances around the room, his brain pleasantly fuzzy, his gaze lingering on the plants that have invaded even the bedroom, the guns on the back of the bedroom door, and, finally, the movie poster on the wall.
“Hey, Billy.”
“Hmm?”
“How come you got Stallone in here?”
Billy opens his eyes and raises his head, following Axel’s gaze.
"You're only noticing that now?"
"Well, yeah. I was a little preoccupied before."
Billy grins and kisses him, before reassuming his former snuggly position.
“What's the matter, Axel, you don’t like Stallone?”
“Sure I like him. It's just I don’t know why you want him watchin’ you sleep.”
“I like his movies,” Billy mumbles.
“They’re all the same though. Supercop who breaks every law and gets away with it—you really like that stuff?”
“Remind you of anyone?” Billy mutters.
“That’s different. I don’t generally bust into places swinging around bazookas.” Axel grins as he looks down at Billy. “Like you did when we were bustin’ Dent.”
“I don’t know what it’s like in Detroit, Axel, but life for a detective tends to be pretty boring out here. I mean, it’s all just mansion break-ins and Rodeo Drive muggings. Until you showed up, of course.”
“Of course. Yeah, you were desperate for some movie star action, I could tell. Ignoring Bogomil’s orders, breaking in without a warrant… And then you go and turn full-on Rambo. I would never have thought it of you.”
“Excuse me," Billy replies with mock-offense, "I think that's mostly due to your... what did Taggart call it? Corrupting influence.”
“No, I don’t think so. I think it’s true what they say—” Axel puts on an old-fashioned voice, “it’s all these damn violent movies nowadays. Kids wanting to be John Rambo, thinking he’s just so swell…”
Axel stares at the man on poster, taking in the sunglasses, the gun, the ridiculous tagline. "'The strong arm of the law'," he mumbles, and scoffs. Then an idea comes to him. Something sly slips into his smile as he turns to look at Billy, who opens his eyes again and immediately looks wary.
“What? What is it?”
“You don’t just like his movies, do you?” Axel props himself up on one elbow and traces a finger down Billy’s arm. “You like his muscles. You like his cheekbones. You like his deep, dark eyes—”
“Oh, shut up,” Billy mutters, but he’s blushing now, and Axel cackles. “I fucking knew it. You got the hots for this guy.”
“So?” Billy stutters. “I could do worse, right?”
“Absolutely you could. So, what, you were in high school, and you went to see Rocky with your friends, and you went to bed that night and you kept thinking about my man with his shirt off, and it was the first time you ever thought about a guy that way, and so you pulled down your tighty-whities and—”
“Can we please stop talking about this?” Billy’s voice comes muffled from under the covers he’s pulled over his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just funny to me, you know." Billy stays where he is. "Aw, Billy, come on out of there. I promise I’ll stop.”
Billy pulls the sheets down. He looks so put out and adorable, hair tousled and cheeks red that Axel can’t help but smile and lean in to kiss him. “I’m sorry. I’ll quit it.”
“Thank you.” Billy closes his eyes again and folds his arms on top of the covers. Axel continues looking at the poster; after a few seconds he cracks up again. "The Italian Stallion. So, you look at that poster when you’re rubbin’ one out, or—”
“No comment.” Billy turns on his side, away from Axel. Grinning, Axel shuffles closer and bends over him. “Hey, if you want, we can roleplay one of his movies.” He puts on a heavy, gravelly voice, mimicking Stallone’s deadpan delivery: “‘To survive a war, you gotta become war.’”
“Shut up.” Billy raises his arm and flings it back towards Axel, but he’s smiling now.
“Oh, you don’t want Rambo? It’s Cobra you want, right?” Axel sits up and gets on his knees, the bedsheets falling down around him. He takes up an invisible machine gun.
“‘This is where the law stops, and I start… Sucker!’ Bang, bang, bang, bang!” He pretends to shoot Billy. Billy turns his head, and breaks out in giggles when he sees Axel sitting there. Then his gaze slips down from Axel’s face to his bare chest, and continues downwards. Still smiling, he rolls onto his back and runs his palm down Axel’s body.
“So… why do they call you Cobra?”
Axel looks down and grins. “I think you know why.”
"Yeah?" Billy takes Axel's pendulous dick in his hand and gives it a squeeze.
"Yeah. That's the strong arm of the law, right there."
“Oof,” Billy moans, as Axel drops down on him and begins to kiss his neck. “That was terrible. Stallone-worthy.”
“Does it turn you on?” Axel mumbles against his throat.
“Sure,” Billy breathes, as Axel kisses his way down his chest. “But I still prefer this other supercop I know. Name’s Axel Foley. He’s got some pretty good moves himself. He can even get around alarm tape.”
“Is that right?” Axel pushes down the sheets and blows against Billy's pubic hair, watches goosebumps rise on his skin.
“Uh-huh. He’s real sexy, too.” Billy’s breath stops and starts, and his hand slips into Axel's neck, guiding him further down. "Great in bed."
“Maybe they should make a movie about him.” As he nuzzles against Billy’s erection, Axel glances up at the poster once more, and winks. Behind his sunglasses, he believes Sly winks back.