I'm known for my not too cringy Omegaverse content, that one au where steve is a crimeboss, and screaming into the void. ♡♡ Click here for my Harringrove Shit ♡♡ Harringrove song of the week PB || genderfluid || 30 || baby cryptid
when I'm not here catch me @prettyboiicaspar I disappear for months if not years at a time. I’m everyone’s favorite absent mother. Yikes forever
Eddie was working a late shift at the garage he works at as a mechanic and with that time Steve decided to go through a lot of Eddie's edgy stuff and that turned into Steve trying on some band tank tops and suddenly the ripped black jeans were on and oops eyeliner has been applied-
Eddie comes home to his boyfriend on the couch just flicking through TV channels, all while looking like some kind of punk rock angel, and just stands there for a minute, his brain imploding.
Steve can't remember the last time Eddie got a boner that fast.
CW for voyeurism. Thinking about a moment in spring of '85, where Tommy is riding around after dark with a few other jocks. They're all kind of tipsy, maybe they're coming from a party, maybe they were out drinking for fun.
They're driving down a few back roads when they spot Munson's van on a dirt path, clearly tucked away discreetly. They slow as they pass it and one of the other guys says "Holy shit, think the freak actually managed to bag a chick for once?"
"That's probably why they're so far out here, she doesn't want anyone to know she's banging him!"
"Nah, he's probably just hotboxing and didn't want Hopper to catch him."
"Maybe we should see?"
They park and somehow Tommy ends up as the one sent to actually open the door and crash whatever party Munson is having. He peers in through the window first, wanting to see if the freak is actually in there, and freezes.
Matt was right, Munson did bag someone, but it's not a chick.
Steve fucking Harrington is on his knees, face pressed to the floor of the van, totally blissed out as Munson fucks into him from behind. He has a hand fisted in the back of Steve's shirt, pinning him in place, and Tommy can just make out the sound of Steve's gasping moans through the glass, the sound punching out of him with every thrust.
Jealousy crashes into Tommy so intensely that he instantly feels on the verge of screaming, of throwing up right on the spot. He only watches for a moment, but it's enough to sear the sight into his mind's eye, leaving an impression he's sure he'll never forget.
Tommy turns and goes back to the car, saying "No one's there, let's get out of here." A couple of the guys protest and Matt says something about double checking, but he snaps out "It's empty, dipshit! We're fucking leaving!"
He stews in the passenger seat the entire drive, and spends the rest of the night trying and failing to imagine himself in Munson's spot, old fantasies and desires flaring sharp and heavy.
Warning: Steve feeling like he can't say no to sex and having it without really wanting to
Steve knew he had a reputation. If he was a girl, he'd be labeled easy. Gagging for it. Slutty. But no one called him a slut. Not to his face, anyway. Instead he got clapped on the back by the boys on the team and told how lucky he was. They thought it was funny to leave condoms in his locker and make bets about whether or not Steve would knock somebody up before he graduated.
It was fun, at first. He liked sex, obviously. He liked how it felt to be close to a girl, the smell of her perfume, the brush of her hair against his skin, her moans and sighs when he touched her right. He liked the satisfaction that came with making someone feel good. He'd felt proud the first time a girl wanted him to be her first. Like he’d earned her trust.
Somewhere along the way, it started feeling less like girls wanted him, and more like they wanted the Steve Harrington Experience. For Steve to show them a good time, so they could brag to their friends about the size of his dick or how many times he made them come. They stopped wanting to go on dates with him. He'd be at a party and a girl would come up to him, start making excuses to touch his arms or his hair, press in close and giggle, and eventually whisper in his ear to take them upstairs.
He couldn't turn a girl down in front of his friends, not when she was so obviously offering sex. They'd never let it go if he did. He could already hear the jokes: looks like Steve's off his game or did you finally catch something, Harrington, or worst of all you aren't some kind of fag now, are you?
So he took them upstairs, and he fucked them, and he made sure they enjoyed it, and then they'd maybe cuddle with him for a few minutes before they went back downstairs to tell their friends. It's not like they were forcing him or anything—he could have said no, he just didn't—but it didn't feel good anymore. He felt gross. He felt used.
That's why it hurt so much when Eddie started coming on to him. He'd thought Eddie was his friend. He'd thought them coming out to each other was bonding, not Eddie trying to get a read on him. If the hangouts, the jokes, the way Eddie always looked pleased to see him—if all that was just to get in Steve's pants, to take him for a ride, well. It was unnecessary, first of all. Everyone knew Steve would fuck just about anybody who asked. Eddie didn't have to pretend to like him. Steve would prefer if he didn't, because this hurt so much more than getting blatantly propositioned at a party.
The way he saw it, he had two options. Number one, he could act dumb and pretend he didn't understand that Eddie was making a move on him. That might get Eddie to back off for a while and earn Steve some more time with him.
Number two, they could have sex. He could show Eddie a good time, give him exactly what he wanted, and then get his heart broken when Eddie promptly dusted his hands of Steve and moved on to better things.
Steve was tempted to go for option one, but that would just prolong the heartbreak. It would always be in the back of his mind that their friendship was just a fat fucking lie. It would be better to just get it over with.
So when Eddie touched his face and looked into his eyes and told him he was pretty, Steve knew what he had to do. He didn't get why Eddie was beating around the bush, but maybe he was shy. Maybe it was his first time. It didn't matter.
Eddie was looking at his lips, clearly angling for a kiss, so Steve leaned in and gave it to him. He still liked kissing, even if the rest of sex had become kind of flat and stale.
Eddie was a very enthusiastic kisser. He clutched at Steve's back and dragged Steve down on top of him until Eddie was flat on his back on the sofa with Steve's tongue in his mouth.
“Fuck,” Eddie moaned when Steve pulled back, and chased Steve's mouth with his own. “Get back here, c’mon.”
Kissing was part of Steve's routine. Kissing, oral, then the main event. It made it easier to pretend it was real. But there was only so long he could drag it out before it was time to move on. Even the shy girls got impatient eventually.
He kissed Eddie until he was hard against Steve's hip, and then he sat up and started taking Eddie's pants off.
“Holy shit,” Eddie said, his head thunking back against the armrest as Steve got his dick out and started touching it. “I can't believe this is really happening.”
That was a bit much. He wished Eddie would just acknowledge this for what it was and quit messing around. He ducked his head to try and hide his scowl but he must not have been quick enough, because Eddie was pushing himself up onto his elbows and frowning back at him.
“What's wrong?” Eddie asked.
“Nothing,” Steve lied. What the hell was Eddie playing at, acting like he gave a shit about Steve? “Do you want me to suck your dick or what?”
“Yeah, obviously, but can we like, call a timeout for a sec? Because I feel like I'm missing something here.”
“Everything's fine,” Steve said. “Look, either you want to fuck or you don't. It's all the same to me.”
Eddie’s eyes widened. “All the same to you?” he repeated. “Jesus, Steve. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
As he spoke, he shoved his dick back into his underwear and yanked up his jeans. He sounded hurt, which was baffling. Steve wasn't so blunt with girls, true, but they also had never pissed him off as bad as Eddie was.
“You know,” Steve said, shrugging. He didn't usually talk about it. He didn't usually need to. He'd stopped expecting anything more than sex years ago.
“Can we just, like, pretend that I don't?” Eddie said, shoving his hands into his hair and looking so genuinely confused that Steve felt a little frisson of uneasiness shoot up his spine. “Let's pretend that I have no fucking idea what's going on right now.”
“Can we just drop it?”
“Uh, no, man, we cannot just drop it.” Eddie shuffled closer. “Steve, hey. Talk to me. What's going on?”
He put his hand on Steve's knee, and Steve flinched.
Eddie's face fell, and he snatched his hand back.
“Shit, sorry,” he said. “You don't want me to touch you?”
Steve shook his head. “I can't have sex with you,” he said miserably, and pulled in his knees to hug them to his chest. He should have been happy about that—he’d been mad at Eddie for wanting sex, after all—but it turned out he did want to have sex with Eddie, he just didn't want it to be some empty, meaningless transaction. So now he would lose Eddie's friendship without even getting the fake-closeness of sex with him in return.
“You can't?” Eddie asked, because of course he'd zeroed in on that. “I don't understand.”
“I thought I could do it, but I can't,” Steve said, feeling very small. “I…I like you too much.”
“Right, how stupid of me,” Eddie said, smacking his own forehead with the palm of his hand. “You only have sex with people you don't like.”
He could tell Eddie didn't mean it, but it was uncomfortably near to the truth. He swallowed hard and fiddled with a worn spot on his jeans.
“It's not like that,” he said finally. “It's just…nevermind. It doesn't matter.”
“It does matter!” Eddie said, and from the corner of his eye Steve could see him reach a hand out and then change his mind and pull it back. “Look. If you don't want to have sex with me, that's cool, I get it. We can still be friends, no hard feelings. But there's obviously something else going on here.”
“You still want to be friends?”
“Uh, duh.” He gave Steve a lopsided smile. “You're one of my best friends, man. I'm not gonna ditch you just because you don't feel the same way about me.”
Steve didn't understand. “Oh,” he said. “I thought—”
Eddie waited him out, more patient than Steve had ever seen him before.
“I thought you just wanted sex,” he said. “That's all anyone ever wants from me.”
“But you like me too much to have sex with me,” Eddie said, like he was trying to confirm it, and when Steve nodded his eyes went all soft and sad.
“Steve,” Eddie said in a very careful voice. “When was the last time you had sex with someone and you actually wanted it?”
Steve tried thinking back, but he'd been in a dry spell for a while. He'd stopped going to parties after what happened with Billy, and it turned out that girls were only interested in Steve “the Hair” Harrington, not so much Steve “the Loser” Harrington. Before that it was all just a blur of faceless girls at parties and the sinking feeling he got when they approached him.
Eddie wasn't going to like the answer, he knew that much. He felt like he was in trouble, which was stupid, but knowing it was stupid didn't change how he felt.
“I can't remember,” he mumbled, looking down at his knees and not at Eddie.
“Jesus fucking christ,” Eddie swore. “Why? If you didn't want it, why didn't you say no?”
“I guess…I didn't feel like I could,” Steve said. His face was hot. He kind of wanted to cry, except Eddie was there, and he didn't want Eddie to see.
“Okay,” Eddie said. “Shit, okay.”
“Sorry.”
“Don't fucking—” Eddie pushed his hands back into his hair and yanked on it. When he spoke again he sounded calmer. “You don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong.”
“Didn't I?” Steve said. He felt like he'd done a lot of things wrong. He'd made some pretty shitty assumptions about Eddie, for starters.
“No, man, you didn't. But I think maybe I owe you an apology.”
Steve had no idea what Eddie could possibly have to apologize for. He was chewing on a lock of his hair, which was gross and definitely going to give him split ends, but he spit it out and straightened up.
“I'm, uh, I'm really fucking sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't say no to me,” Eddie said, his eyes darting over Steve's face.
“You didn't,” Steve protested. Eddie had been sweet, really. And he hadn't even mentioned sex until Steve brought it up. This was all Steve's fault.
“Then why—”
“I forgot that I could!” Steve said, nearly yelling, and put his hands over his face when he saw Eddie's look of shock. This was it, he was going to die of mortification right here and now.
“Steve,” Eddie said softly. “Fuck. Do you, uh, do you want a hug?”
Steve nodded, and Eddie put his arms around him just like that, even though Steve was still all scrunched up with his knees to his chest. After a minute Steve uncurled enough to hug Eddie back. Eddie's shirt was soft against his face and his hair tickled Steve's neck.
“Sorry if I ruined everything,” Steve told him.
“You didn't ruin anything. We're good, okay? We had a misunderstanding and we sorted it out.”
“Do you still want to kiss me?” Steve asked, and Eddie's hands paused where they were stroking his back.
“Full disclosure? Yeah, I do. But I'm not gonna let it mess up our friendship, I'm gonna repress that shit so hard—”
Steve cut him off. “I like kissing,” he said.
“Oh!” Eddie said, and his arms tightened around Steve. “Okay, so maybe…maybe we skip the repression?”
Eddie opens his eyes and wishes he hadn't. He really doesn't want to deal with his surroundings right now. Because he's pretty sure he knows who that head of hair blocking his vision belongs to and he just - he doesn't have it in him, okay? Not now, not ever.
Dealing with the, still kind of high, walk of shame would be bad enough, but to do it from the guy he's in the middle of saving the world with, who he's sharing living arrangements with at the radio station so the walk of shame is not as much of a walk as it's fifteen steps, now that. That he can't take.
Steve stirs before Eddie could panic his way out of the bed.
Eddie lies there, frozen, as he witnesses Steve come to the same realization as him as he wakes. Steve's arms freeze mid-stretch and his back (his back, holy shit) goes rigid. The back of Eddie's brain notes the tone of muscles for later use, because he's sure he'll never be seeing it again after this.
They got really high last night. Like, really, really high. And they don't like each other! Not like that! They're friendly 'cause they have to be, and because they're in the middle of the whole saving the world thing together, and there's Dustin - oh god. Dustin' s not gonna let them hear the end of it if this fucks anything up between them. How could Eddie have been so stupid?! How could he let himself -
Steve arm drops behind him and hits Eddie's hip, searching around for a beat and then gripping onto the covers over Eddie's waist. Eddie freezes, eyes wide. Steve's not moving either.
"Eddie? That you?", Steve's voice is low and scratchy with sleep. Eddie has to take a few moments to compose himself, blink, lick his lips and finally mutter a pathetic little: "Yeah."
"Oh thank god"
Steve flops over himself without letting go of Eddie, struggling for a beat and then they're nose to nose. Steve's smiling, a little crooked.
"Man, I felt someone behind me and got scared for a second there."
Eddie swallows like this is normal.
"Who'd you-uh. Who'd you think it was if not me?"
Steve's brows twitch.
"No one else really around here to be but you, man."
"Oh. Right"
Eddie's disappointed. This is the best possible outcome he could've hoped for - Steve was just letting out some steam and was cool enough with Eddie to use a guy for that - and he's still disappointed. He's not attacking you or pretending he doesn't remember, take the win.
"I didn't mean it like that!" Steve hurries to babble at his frown.
"Not in like, you're the only person available way - well I mean you kind of are, but not-", Eddie stares at him open mouthed, "It's not only that for me! I - I mean, I guess it looks like that but, I actually think you're really hot, and - not that I don't think you're also a good person, I do, I just think that - I'm kind of bad at explaining myself, but yeah, you're hot and we're here and I think that - hey could you say something and stop me from further embarrassing myself?", Steve pants.
"I like you."
Now Steve's the one gaping.
"Oh."
"Yeah." Eddie wasn't gonna blurt it out like that, but Steve's little speach must have activated his own brain to mouth filter to dissappear.
"... Sooo. What now?"
Eddie shrugs.
They stay quiet long enough to become awkward and then Steve jumps and grabs Eddie's shoulders: "Holy shit, I like you too! Sorry!"
Startled, Eddie stares at him like a fish.
"That was supposed to be the point of my little speach and I just realized I barely called you hot! Eddie, I like you. And I wanna see where we could take this", he takes Eddie's hand between his own (and his hands really are as big as he thought last night, hello). If you want that, too?"
Eddie looks him in the eyes and brushes away a strand of hair with his free hand.
"So you think I'm hot?"
Steve blinks at him, a little bitchy.
"Yeah. I do."
A grin spreads over Eddie's face and he cranes his neck to check the clock behind Steve.
"I wanna see where it goes, too. But for now, we have two hours before everyone else gets here. Show me how hot you think I am?"
if only billy had been as bad as he's made out to be. he SHOULD have shoved nerds into lockers. he SHOULD have fucked someone's girlfriend. he SHOULD have vehicular manslaughtered someone. enRICHMENT!
It was the summer of 1985. Spending his breaks at Scoops Ahoy together with Steve became routine for Billy. Was he able to focus on studying better? Maybe not, but he got a special treat on the house and his sleepy boyfriend by his side. Steve would apply for college once Billy had graduated because they were planning on going together. Was it going to work out? He had no idea, but he had a little more time to dream.
billy getting called up in english to read his poem out loud to the whole class and he's trying to get out of it but his teachers like "read the poem or fail this unit" and billy can not go home to neil with an F so... fuck him he guesses.
so he gets up in front of the class and starts reading off this poem that is all about longing and repression and forbidden desires and its super gay but in a way no one in the class is gonna understand unless they specifically know to look for it. all the girlies in the class are just on the edge of their seats fawning because "oh this is so romantic who knew billy hargrove was such a sweetheart"
meanwhile steves sitting in the back of the class not even paying attention until he starts cluing in to certain words and phrases that are weirdly specific to interactions he's had with billy so now he's sitting there like "is this fucking play about me?"
billy is SWEATING the entire time but manages to keep his cool in front of the class because you can never let them see you slipping, but the second the bell rings he's out of there. and steve's hot on his tail cuz he's gotta know what billys poems about.... surely it wasn't just coincidence when their eyes locked on the last line right? right???
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