Eddie has been working in food service since he was sixteen. After his dad had gone to jail, it had just been him and Uncle Wayne, and Eddie had wanted to do something to help with the bills. Something less illegal than what his dad had him doing. So he’d gotten a job as a busboy at an upscale restaurant for rich vacationers and he’d actually liked it. He liked putting in a hard day’s work (and it was hard work) to put food on the table for him and Wayne. He liked the camaraderie of the staff, he even liked the sometimes absurd customers that came in. He’d eventually gotten in as a server, and he’d liked that even better. He could make as much in tips most nights as he had selling pot in high school, with the added bonus of not having recurring nightmares about ending up in jail with his dad.
Eddie likes his job, he’s good at his job, and he’s proud of that. Which is why he hates Steve fucking Harrington so much.
Steve is everything that is wrong with the world, in Eddie’s opinion. He’s a rich, privileged, effortlessly hot, cocky asshole who’s had everything handed to him on a silver platter by his rich asshole parents since the day he was born. He comes in here with his stupid name brand clothing and his $200 haircut that makes him look like he stuck his finger in an electrical outlet like that’s some kind of style and his shiny white perfectly straight teeth that had to have cost more than Eddie’s car because no way is anyone’s teeth that perfect-
“Yea, I’ve heard about how much you want Steve to dick you down like ten times already this week, can we talk about something else?” Nancy asks boredly from behind the garland-bedecked bar where she’s wiping down the counter and getting her area ready for being closed for the holiday. There’s only four of the staff left in the building now, doing closing duties, and he and Nancy seem to be the only ones in the dining room at the moment.
Eddie snaps his mouth closed and glares at his roommate. He loves Nancy. She’s probably his best friend. Definitely his best friend. But he’s had to talk himself down from getting into a fight he’d probably lose with her once a day for the past month, ever since Steve joined the wait staff. “I don’t want to fuck Steve,” he says flatly. He’s 78% sure that’s true.
“I know. We’ve lived together long enough for me to know some things I never needed to know about someone I love like a brother. So I know you don’t want to fuck Steve,” she says.
Eddie’s shoulders relax, just a tick. “Thank you-”
“You want him to fuck you,” she says, the ghost of a smirk at the corners of her lips.
“I do not-!” Eddie splutters.
“Edward Theodore, I have seen the massive dildo you keep under the bathroom sink and I’ve also caught you scrolling Steve’s Instagram pics from his trip to the Maldives no less than four times. The ones of him in the little yellow-”
“Shut. Up,” Eddie growls, trying to ignore the flush of heat crawling up his neck. “I just like the beach pictures! The Maldives is a beautiful place. I’ve been thinking about booking us a vacation there, in fact. For your birthday! And now you’ve ruined the surprise so I’m not doing it,” Eddie says, finishing his statement with an expression that looks superior rather than whiny.
Nancy gives him a look that could whither a ficus. “You can lie to yourself, but you can never lie to me.”
“Oooh, what are we lying about? How much Eddie wants to sit on Steve’s dick?”
Eddie turns to see the other bane of his existence, Nancy’s girlfriend Robin, sidle up to the bar. She throws an arm around his shoulders and Eddie bristles. “You are the third worst person I know, after Harrington and Nancy. I hope you know this. I have a list.”
“Ew. I don’t want to be on any list you make that also includes Steve,” she says with a mocking grin.
Eddie glares, then starts ticking off things on his fingers. “People I’d like to drop in a vat of Nickelodeon slime, people who use the term ‘girlboss’ unironically, people who would probably kidnap me and sell me as a mail-order bride if they thought they could get away with it.”
“I only use ‘girlboss’ ironically and you know it,” Nancy says.
“They would demand a refund as soon as you started talking about the Lord of the Rings trilogy,” Robin says.
Nancy turns to Robin, brow furrowed. “That’s not how mail-order brides work, babe.”
Robin rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to retort but Eddie cuts her off. “Whatever! My point is, I don’t give a flying fuck about Steve’s dick. I’m not interested in his dick, or any other part of him. For all I care to know, he could just be flat like a Ken doll down there. That’s how he is in my mind, a douchey plastic doll with unrealistic facial symmetry and a stupid haircut,” Eddie says, chest heaving with anger. He is not attracted to Steve Harrington and he will die on this hill.
Robin rolls her eyes again. “Oh, please. I know you’ve seen the pics of him in the Maldives.”
Nancy’s grin is feral. “Oh, he has. What was it you said, Eddie? I think I remember the phrase ‘bursting at the seams.’”
Robin snorts a laugh. Eddie feels his pulse throbbing in his temples. “I was under the influence,” he gets out through gritted teeth.
“Under the influence of that dick!” Robin says.
Nancy laughs, covering her mouth in that way she does when she doesn’t want to laugh but can’t help herself. She leans in toward Robin across the bar, but her eyes are on Eddie, gleaming mischief. “You know, he also asked me how big it was.”
Eddie slithers out from beneath Robin’s arm. “I’m leaving. Unlike you two, I actually take this job seriously.”
Without warning, Nancy reaches under the counter and pulls out one of the cucumbers she uses for cocktail garnishes and slams it down on the wooden counter. It thuds heavily. It is rather large as cucumbers go.
Eddie turns on his heel, cheeks burning, and stomps away. Behind him he hears Robin complaining about not wanting to be reminded that her girlfriend once slept with her best friend, and Nancy accusing her of biphobia. Things were so much simpler when it was just him and Nancy, before Robin came into the picture dragging the wet rat that is Steve Harrington behind her. He misses those days.
Eddie turns the corner out of the dining room, heading to the supply closet. He and Steve had volunteered to stay late to deep clean the dining room and prep everything for their reopening the day after Christmas, for a little extra cash. He has no idea why Steve volunteered for this. He doesn’t understand why he even works here. Steve’s family owns the entire resort. He doesn’t need this job. Just another thing about the guy that pisses him off.
Unfortunately, he runs directly into Steve himself rounding the corner. Eddie stumbles back, unable to keep his footing. He falls on his ass in the corridor with a yelp.
“Oh, shit! I’m sorry! Eddie, are you alright?” Steve asks, an expression of concern tugging at his stupid pretty face.
“No! I’m dead! You’ve killed me!” he says dramatically. He’s not dead, but he’s decided in this very moment to just give up. He’s going to stay on the floor. He’s a floor person now.
Steve chuckles like he always does at Eddie’s theatrics, like he just finds Eddie so fucking funny. Asshole.
“I’m afraid you’re not getting out of the job that easily. Pretty sure Nance would literally learn black magic and raise you from the dead to get out of here in time to catch her flight.” Steve says. Eddie’s sure he’s doing something stupid and nice like holding his hand out for Eddie to take, but Eddie refuses to open his eyes. Floor people stay on the floor.
Eddie yelps again when he feels strong hands slide under his shoulders. He opens his eyes just in time to see Steve’s face grinning at him upside down before he’s being hoisted by the armpits into a standing position. He scrambles to get his feet under him and turns around to see Steve behind him, wiping his hands on his pristine black apron. He’s shed the black button-down that is their uniform and is only in his white undershirt. Eddie can see his dark chest hair through the thin material. And his biceps, not huge, but well defined. Eddie pulls his eyes away from Steve’s torso to glare into his stupidly pretty hazel eyes.
Steve is still wiping his hands on his apron and shaking his head. “Dude, why are you so sweaty?” he huffs.
Eddie’s cheeks burn. He sweats when he’s angry. Also when he’s horny and/or repressing strong emotions, but that’s irrelevant. He ignores Steve’s question and crosses his arms.
“What are you doing out here? We’re supposed to be cleaning. Nancy’s not the only one who wants to get out of here on time,” Eddie snarks. Truth be told, he has nothing urgent he needs to get home for. Christmas Eve is tomorrow, but he and Wayne traditionally celebrate the week after Christmas, a tradition started because Wayne used to have to work holidays and the fact that everything went on sale the week after Christmas. Neither of them were religious, and waiting to buy gifts and food and candy the week after was always cheaper.
Steve blinks in that way where you can see the cogs turning in his beautiful empty head. Then he shakes his head and gestures to the vacuum cleaner he’d been pushing. “I was getting the vacuum?” he says.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Before we clear the tables?” he says, choosing to ignore the fact that he had been on his way to get the vacuum himself just to get out of the dining room and away from the cackling hyenas that were Nancy and Robin.
“I thought you were clearing the tables?” Steve says, looking so adorably confused Eddie wants to bite him about it. Maliciously.
Eddie is not about to admit he got distracted talking about Steve with Nancy. “Well, I can’t clear them by myself! Come on, let’s get a move on.”
Steve shrugs and leaves the vacuum in the hallway to follow Eddie into the dining room. When they enter, Nancy and Robin are pulling on their coats and scarves, giggling with each other in a way that definitely feels targeted at Eddie. Eddie ignores them in favor of grumbling about the number of forks rich people seem to need as he starts in on the first table.
“Bye, boys!” Nancy calls.
“Have fun! But not too much fun, you don’t wanna get snowed in!” Robin says, winking at them.
Steve rolls his eyes while Eddie glares at them from over Steve’s shoulder. “I’ve never had too much fun here,” Steve laughs. “You two be careful! Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” they say in unison as they leave. From down the hall he hears Nancy call out, “And a Merriest of Christmases to you, Edward!”
Steve looks back at Eddie with a guileless smile and shrugs. They get to work.
Two hours later, they are snowed in.
“This is such bullshit,” Eddie groans, and he is once again lying on the floor on his back, this time at the base of the enormous tree that sits in front of the glass windows overlooking the resort. Outside snow is falling in great heaps. Eddie curses it.
It’s one of those fancy rich person trees, the kind with white lights and silver and gold glass bulbs arranged in too-perfect symmetry, topped with an oversized gold bow. There are perfectly-wrapped empty boxes around the bottom of the tree. Eddie grabs one of the fake presents and starts tossing it and spinning it in the air using his feet and hands.
Steve’s face comes into his line of vision above him. “Dude, seriously? Are you 5?”
Eddie scowls, but continues to toss the present in the air. “Older than you are.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “You look like a kitten with a ball of string.”
Eddie kicks and the fake gift goes flying across the room. “Fuck you, Harrington.” He rolls into a sitting position, arms crossed defensively over his chest.
Steve just laughs and drops down next to him on the carpet. Which is another thing that pissed Eddie off. Eddie genuinely hates him and Steve thinks it’s a joke. Steve wipes the sweat from his brow with the dishtowel he has draped over his shoulder and then looks at Eddie. “Talked to Hop on the radio. He says he’ll try to get down the mountain in the park truck when the snow lets up, but the forecast says we’ll get ten more inches before morning.” Then Steve bites his bottom lip, grinning at Eddie, and waggles his eyebrows.
Jesus fucking christ. Eddie’s face is on fire as he pulls a strand of hair to cover his mouth and studiously avoids making eye-contact with Steve. “Great. Fucking great.”
He feels Steve bump into his shoulder and he turns a glare on the other boy. “Hey. Did you hear what I said about ten inches?” Steve asks with a shit-eating grin.
Eddie redoubles his glare. “I’m sitting right here, Harrington. I heard you.”
For some reason this makes Steve laugh. He leans back onto his hands and lets his head fall back. When Steve closes his eyes, Eddie drops his hair and allows himself an uninterrupted moment to admire the line of his throat. He wants to bite it. Eddie lets his eyes rove over the form of Steve’s body, his chest in that tight shirt, the splay of his thighs and the bulge at his crotch. Steve hangs to the right. Eddie hates that he knows this. Of course, everyone who has ever spent any time with Steve (or scrolled his Instagram), knows this.
“You can ask, you know.”
Eddie’s eyes dart up to Steve’s face to find him staring back at him. Eddie’s face goes hot with embarrassment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ask what even?” he says quickly.
Steve’s smile is slow and cocky as he leans into Eddie’s space. Eddie has to lean back to regain some personal space. It’s weird. He’s usually the one leaning in disconcertingly close to people’s faces. He doesn’t like it. “If it’s really that big.”
The noise that escapes Eddie’s mouth is maybe what a turkey sounds like when it gets hit by a truck. He does a full body jerk and practically jumps away from Steve, putting a couple of feet between them. “The fucking ego on you!” Eddie says, but it comes out more like a squawk. He’s pretty sure he could fry an egg on his forehead right now.
“You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” Steve laughs, unperturbed.
Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. So, ok. Maybe he does want to sleep with Harrington. Whatever. It’s not because he likes him. Him and his stupid cocky grin and his dumb jokes and his fuckboy hair and his genuine kindness- Whatever!
There’s a long silence in which Eddie imagines he could hear a clock ticking, if there was an analog clock in the dining room. Which there isn’t. He wonders why there’s not a big fancy clock. Seems like the kind of thing rich people who own a resort would get as a decoration. A conversation piece, or whatever they called it.
“There’s no way it’s ten inches!” Eddie blurts, then sucks in a breath and buries his burning face in his hair.
He feels the air shift beside him as Steve scoots closer but he doesn’t look up. “Wanna see it?”
Eddie groans and scrubs his hands over his face roughly. When he finally looks up Steve is grinning at him again. Eddie sighs, letting his shoulders sag. “I really hate myself right now, I hope you know that.”
“Because,” Steve says, dragging out the second syllable, “you’re going to say yes?”
Eddie groans again and rolls his head around his neck. “Yes, you asshole. I want to see it. God fucking damnit this is such bullshit. I want to see it.”
As if he’s just been waiting for permission, Steve hastily unbuckles his black trousers and shimmies them down his hips. At least, he tries. It’s hard to do in a sitting position. So he gets up on his knees and pulls his pants and boxers down. Before Eddie can get more than a glimpse of it, Steve turns his body away with a, “Wait! Give me a minute!”
The view from this side isn’t bad either. Steve has a very, very nice ass. A good two handfuls. “What are you doing over there?” Eddie asks. Steve’s shoulders move with the movements of his arms. He looks like he’s- “Are you jerking off?” Eddie asks, bewildered.
“No! Just, you know, fluffing it up a little. I want you to get the full effect,” Steve says defensively.
“Oh, my god. You are so ridiculous. How do you pull so much ass, you are infuriatin-” Eddie’s rant is cut off with Steve turns back around, his engorged dick swinging like a stupid triumphant horn or something. It’s… Ok, it’s huge.
“Fuck me,” Eddie breathes, mouth agape and, embarrassingly, watering. He’s immediately at half mast. This is… Fuck, this was a stupid, bad idea. “You know what happens when you give into the mind worms, Eddie, you fucking idiot,” he grumbles to himself, not taking his eyes off the massive bouncing cock inches from his face.
“You can touch it, if you want,” Steve says, that infuriating cocky look on his face.
With a frustrated noise, one that surely heralds the final death of Eddie’s dignity and self-image, Eddie leans in and takes Steve into his mouth.
“Fuck!” Steve curses above him, but it ends on a moan. Despite how much he truly hates Harrington, the sound pleases Eddie. He’s glad Steve’s not one of those guys who thinks he’s too manly to make a little noise when he’s getting his dick wet.
Eddie can’t get Steve’s entire dick in his mouth, which just goes to show how big it actually is, because Eddie can deepthroat with the best of them. There’s just too fucking much to take it all, though, so he uses his hands on the length he can’t get in his mouth and Steve’s balls and sucks for all he’s worth.
Steve is very appreciative. He holds Eddie’s hair away from his face like a gentleman, petting his cheeks and praising him. Eddie’s mind goes blissfully blank, knowing only the smell and taste of Steve and the weight of him on his tongue. Fuck, he loves this.
Soon after Eddie is on his back and Steve is kissing him. His hands are everywhere. Eddie realizes he’s lost his own trousers at some point and Steve’s big hand is wrapped around Eddie’s cock, tugging and stroking. It’s dry, but Eddie doesn’t care. It’s so fucking good, Steve’s weight on him and his hand on his dick and his mouth on Eddie’s throat.
“You’re so fucking squirmy all the time,” Steve says. “I love how you can’t stay still. You’re like one of those little noodly cat things.”
Eddie somehow manages to scowl fully minutes away from what will probably be one of the best orgasms of his life. He’s strong like that. “Are you talking about a ferret?”
“That’s the one,” Steve says. “Can I fuck you? I’ve been thinking about it for fucking ever.”
“You’ve only been working here for a month.”
“Feels like forever,” Steve says, then sucks on Eddie’s neck and twists his big hand around the head of Eddie’s dick.
“Fuck! Yes, yes please fuck me, just do it quick or I’m gonna come first,” Eddie says.
Steve laughs and then he’s opening Eddie up on his thick fingers.
“Where did you get lube?” Eddie gasps.
“I keep it in my locker,” Steve says.
“You keep lube in your work locker?” Eddie says, disbelief forcing a laugh out of him.
Steve has three fingers in him now. It’s a miracle Eddie can form a coherent thought. “Are you complaining?”
Eddie huffs. “I guess not, I’m just trying to figure out why you keep lube at work, like what instance do you think you’re going to need lube at work for?”
Steve gives him a look like he’s the ridiculous one. “Literally what is happening right now is why I keep lube in my locker.”
“You didn’t know we were going to get snowed in,” Eddie practically shouts as Steve hits his prostate.
Steve grins down at him. “Baby, I knew I’d get you on my dick sooner or later, the snow’s got nothing do with it.”
Eddie glares. “Please, please shut up and get your fat cock in my ass before I change my mind.”
Steve laughs, rolls on a condom because of fucking course he has condoms at work, and does as he’s told. Eddie groans and writhes and pants as Steve slowly slides his cock into Eddie’s body, petting him and kissing him the whole time, asking if he’s ok, if it feels good. Eddie can only kiss him back and beg for more.
When Eddie comes on Steve’s cock, it’s with a vision full of twinkling white lights and greenery and snow falling through the windows. He’d been right, it’s one of the best orgasms of his life.
After, Eddie is lying on his back and Steve has his head on Eddie’s shoulder, their hands linked. Eddie glares up at the bow on top of the tree, mentally cursing the vindictive gods of snow and well-endowed jocks.
“We’re not dating. This doesn’t mean we’re dating, you know?” Eddie says, in what he knows is a last-ditch effort to preserve his meager dignity.
“We don’t have to tell the girls,” Steve says around a yawn.
Eddie sighs and strokes Steve’s back absently. “Yea, ok.”
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