Hello lovely freaks, jocks and anything above, beyond & between 💞
If you love Love and especially the love between everybody's favorite Babysitter and Dungeon Master, then this is for you!
I asked all of you if you wanted another steddie love month challenge and 145 people voted on it, 95.9% saying "Yes".
Just like last year I would love to celebrate love with y'all. Every day throughout the month of February there will be a different prompt for you to write or draw or do whatever creative thing you can think of. I'm not the boss of you, do whatever you feel like fits the prompt you choose.
Each day the prompt will be an object or location that plays a medium to mayor role in Stranger Things. You can interpret the prompt however you like. It's meant as inspiration, not a rule of law 😉
You can also combine this event with other fandom events, as long as the focus is on steddie.
Please tag this blog @steddielovemonth when you post. You can also follow the tag #steddielovemonth to keep up with posts. Please use this tag when posting. There's also a collection on AO3, please feel free to post your work there as well.
All submissions should include a rating and any CW or tags that you feel are necessary. Don't forget to also mention the prompt you're fulfilling. Please put Explicit material under a read more as well as long posts to not clutter people's dashboards.
Example: optional title
rating: G/T/M/E
cw: violence, blood, etc.
tags: established relationship, first time, etc.
prompt: object or location
Please try to only post your submission for a prompt ON that day by 11:59 pm EST. Really early or late submissions won’t be ignored, but could easily get missed in the mix of a different prompt on a different day (you can check timezones here). I will reblog all the posts for that day the following day, so posts for 2/1 will be posted on 2/2.
ARTISTS
The image must be Steddie, Steve, or Eddie focused, though other characters can be included!
Collaborations with writers are encouraged!
Always tag this blog with your submissions so I can see them and reblog them.
If you have questions, message this blog or @sidekick-hero.
So I somehow survived the insanity of what I'd dubbed The Sandy (@sidekick-hero) Challenge™ from 2024 by submitting an entry for each of the 28 days of the @steddielovemonth event.
Why? I don't know, maybe I wanted to die (of fun!). What did I achieve? Truly epic levels of burnout and sleep deprivation. I guess I could make myself a custom gold star but I am not spending another second in Photoshop, or Scrivener for that matter, for the foreseeable future 🤣
Gifsets: 9 | Fics/chapters: 19 | Total word count: 77 955
Featuring: Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Post-Vecna, Eddie Loves Steve, Pining, Friendship/Love, Erectile Dysfunction, Awkward Conversations, Intimacy, Soft Eddie, Disabled Eddie (Eddie uses a cane), Gay & Experienced Eddie, Service Top Eddie, Demisexual Biromantic Steve, Steve just wants to be loved, Steve Has Self-Esteem Issues, References to Drugs, Pet Names, Blindfolds, Non-Penetrative Sex, Gentle Sex, Body Worship, Nipple Play, Hair-pulling, Neck Kissing, Blow Jobs, Ball Massage, Prostate Massage, Come Swallowing, Masturbation, Coming In Pants, Making Out, Post-Coital Cuddling, Boys Kissing, Confessions, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Requited Love, Happy Ending, POV Eddie Munson, Minor Steve/OFC, Past Stancy
Steve comes to Eddie's trailer with a very personal problem. Eddie listens, compassionate and judgment-free, and proposes a solution. Completely selflessly, of course; he just wants to reassure Steve that there's nothing wrong with him, or more accurately, his dick. Except for the fact that Eddie's been pathetically yearning for his friend for months now, and is always greedy for whatever scraps of Steve Harrington he can get, even breaking his own heart in the process.
“I think… it’s all just about your state of mind, Stevie. Maybe you just need a different approach. Where there’s no stress, no pressure, just someone focusing on… you. No stakes, no expectations, no judgment on how long it takes for you to… get to a finish line, or even whether you enter the race at all, so to speak. Just let yourself feel good.”
Written for @steddielovemonth day 28 prompt: blindfold
When Steve appears at his door around 10 pm on a Friday night, Eddie’s not exactly surprised by that in itself. They’ve become friends, really good friends, all throughout the whole terrible-not-fun-at-all post-demobat-recovery bullshit, and remained that way for many months since then, against all of Eddie’s expectations that Steve Harrington would finally decide he had nothing in common with the Freak of Hawkins beyond shared trauma. Showing up unannounced at each other’s door has pretty much become the norm.
But then Eddie remembers: Steve was supposed to have a date tonight. And judging by him being here now, and the defeated look on his face, it didn’t exactly go great. Eddie reminds himself that he absolutely should not have any positive feelings about that. Turns out, it’s not that hard, when Steve’s sullen expression and dull eyes are kind of breaking Eddie’s heart.
He doesn’t ask anything, leaving it up to Steve to decide whether he even wants to bring it up. If he doesn’t, if he just needs some company or a distraction from the woes of his tragic love life, Eddie is always ready to provide. He’s resigned himself to that role, selflessly, but he can also be very greedy about it at the same time. Seizing any opportunity to be close to Steve, as close as he can get without crossing a line.
“Come on in, Stevie,” he says with a casual, reassuring smile as he makes his way towards the fridge. “I was just about to crack a cold one, you want?”
“Yeah, sure,” Steve says, closing the door behind him; he fumbles a little as he realizes there’s a beer can flying his way across the room, but manages to catch it. “Fuck, Eddie, do you want it to spray everywhere?”
He smiles as he says it, which was exactly Eddie’s goal. Eddie just shrugs and leans forward against the counter as he opens his own can.
Steve joins him, across from him, opening his own beer more carefully; it fizzes over a bit of foam, nothing too dramatic. He takes a few gulps, then sets it down on the counter. He’s quiet for a while, fiddling with the pull tab on his can, flicking at it repeatedly; kind of sounds like a choked C note on guitar. Eddie stays silent and patient, but he can’t resist clicking his rings against the edge of his own can to the rhythm.
Steve notices and looks up, and Eddie grins at him.
“Wanna start a band, Stevie? We could play beer cans only, we'd sound super edgy.”
He successfully makes Steve laugh at that, visibly relax a little. Score.
“Eddie, I, um. I wanted to ask you something,” Steve says, chewing on his lip and staring down at his hands.
“Sure,” Eddie replies, deliberately keeping his tone light. “Shoot.”
“You sell… all kinds of pills, right?” Steve glances up at him, briefly.
Eddie lifts his eyebrows. What is Steve after? Benadryl, for the insomnia? Eddie’s offered before, but it made Steve feel groggy and tired the next day and he decided to just stick with weed for the “bad nights”, as they both call them.
“What do you need, Stevie?” He asks, casual still.
“You sell E?”
Eddie blinks, startled.
“Ecstasy?” He asks, just to clarify that Steve understands what he’s asking for. “You planning a big party or something?”
“Not really. I just heard it can, uhm. Enhance… performance?”
“Uh… I think you’re thinking of steroids.” Also, why would you need more muscles, Steve, you’re fucking perfect already. Eddie’s so confused.
“No, not… that kind of performance.” Steve averts his gaze again, wincing.
Oh. It takes some effort to keep his expression neutral, because what the fuck. Is Steve having troubles in the bedroom? Eddie knows he’s kind of been striking out with girls for a while, but… he never imagined this would be the reason.
“Uh… That’s not exactly what E is for either,” Eddie speaks cautiously, keeping his tone neutral. “I mean… I guess it could have that effect, for some people maybe, but… Honestly, Stevie, it’s your body, your choice, but I would strongly advise against dabbling in stimulants when you already have trouble sleeping.”
“Forget I said anything,” Steve sighs, slumping further against the counter, as if trying to hide his head between his arms. “It was a dumb idea, you’re right. Shit, any chance you could forget I even asked?”
He’s clearly very uncomfortable. Eddie isn’t sure whether Steve isn’t going to just shut him down or run if Eddie asks any questions instead of agreeing to change the subject, but he figures he should try anyway. For Steve’s sake; clearly something’s going on with him, something he would never in a million years talk about with Robin, it’s obvious. Eddie, at least, is a guy too, and they’re pretty close, so… maybe he’d be willing to open up?
“Do you want me to forget, or do you wanna talk about it?” He asks softly.
Steve looks hesitant, agitated, playing with the pull tab again. He takes another sip of his beer, sighs.
“It’s not that I… like, everything works, technically, just… fuck,” he groans, rubbing his palm across his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like I’m in over my head about it, every time, and the more I worry about it, the worse it gets. Why can’t I just be fucking normal.”
Eddie could tell him that being normal is overrated. Instead, he just waits, only nodding encouragingly at Steve to keep going when Steve looks at him.
“Like, tonight. The date went great, Brenda’s really pretty, and funny, and she was obviously into me. We got back to my place, and… it all went to shit.”
Steve still looks tense, casting quick glances at Eddie, as if expecting to see judgment from him; he’s not getting that, obviously. Eddie’s mind is reeling, of course, but his listening face remains perfectly sympathetic. It seems to give Steve enough reassurance to continue. He talks faster, almost rambling, waving his hands around for emphasis.
“We made out for a bit, and then she went down on me, and… fuck. Like, it felt good, all right? And not like I couldn’t get it up at all. But it was taking… too long, and the more I realized it’s gonna take me a while to… you know, the more stressed out I got, because she started giving me weird looks, like she knew I’m not as into it as she’d hoped, and… anyway, I stopped her, making some joke about not getting enough sleep, which wasn’t even a lie, technically. I could have just gotten her off, but it was awkward as fuck at that point, so… we parted ways.”
Wow, Eddie thinks. That’s… a lot to process. Pushing aside the jealousy, the next thing Eddie feels is a mix of bitterness and yearning. It sucks, that Steve’s going through something that causes him so much distress… but Eddie can’t help but think, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t give a shit how long it took. I’d just want to make you feel good.
It’s a dangerous train of thought, and Eddie needs to derail it, immediately. Unfortunately, given the conversation topic, he can’t completely escape the mental imagery of Steve’s dick. Despite the warmth in his cheeks, Eddie asks the most obvious question.
“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but, um. What about when you’re alone?”
Steve barks out a laugh, clearly out of nerves more than amusement.
“You asking if I can get it up to jerk off?”
“Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans, dropping his head to the counter, then looking up with a grimace. “Well, yeah, I suppose I am asking that. We’re just gonna pretend this is a totally normal conversation that friends have.”
“I’ve had your blood in my mouth, Eddie, I guess there’s nothing normal about us,” Steve chuckles.
“True,” Eddie agrees. “You also know all my deepest darkest secrets.” All but one. “So you gotta know I’m not asking for shits and giggles, I’m serious, Stevie. I wanna help you figure it out.”
Steve looks at him for a moment, his eyes warm, his features relaxing despite the lingering embarrassment there. He clears his throat, looks away.
“Uhm. Yeah, the answer’s yes. No issues there.”
Eddie’s really glad that the analytical, kind of obsessive actually, problem-solving part of his brain has mostly taken the wheel. It’s a very welcome distraction, letting him think rationally, speak without stumbling over words like a flustered teenager.
“Have you thought about… why it’s different?” He asks carefully, then takes a sip of his beer. He’s way too sober for this. “From hooking up with someone?”
Steve thinks on it for a minute.
“I guess when I’m alone I can just… not worry about it. Whether I can… you know. Meet someone’s expectations. If I’m not in the mood to keep going, that’s the end of it, nobody gets upset or disappointed.”
They are both rather red-faced at this point, and Eddie fights every instinct to lighten the mood. The moment feels fragile, with how difficult and embarrassing it must have been for Steve to discuss his very personal, intimate thoughts. They’ve been close for a while now, closer than he’d ever thought he’d get with Steve Harrington, but it’s still striking, how much Steve decided to trust him, how open and honest he’s willing to be.
Eddie scrambles to say something, but comes up blank on anything other than that thought in the back of his mind, the one that’s been there from the start of this conversation.
This is an absolutely terrible idea. Insane, dangerous, very indulgent, but Eddie tries to tell himself it’s purely selfless, actually.
“Look, Stevie,” he starts off gently. “I can’t believe I am saying this, but I don’t think drugs are the answer here. Even if there was a magical pill that gives you boners, like, you’re twenty, man. You shouldn’t need some chemical crutch if the issue isn’t actually… you know… physical. And from what you’ve told me, it’s not. Trust the guy with a literal cane,” he nods towards it, leaning against the wall by the entrance, “you don’t wanna rely on a crutch if there might be another solution.”
“What solution?” Steve sighs, frustrated. “Give up sex? Become a monk?”
“Hey, let’s not get radical here, big boy,” Eddie gives him an amused smile. “I think… it’s all just about your state of mind, Stevie. Maybe… maybe you just need a different approach. Where there’s no stress, no pressure, just someone focusing on… you. No stakes, no expectations, no judgment on how long it takes for you to… get to a finish line, or even whether you enter the race at all, so to speak. Just let yourself feel good. Break this spiral of worrying that something’s wrong with you, because honestly, I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Who’d want to do that?” Steve snorts miserably.
“A friend. Someone you can trust.”
Someone who completely lost his mind in his undignified willingness to settle for whatever scraps of Steve Harrington he can get, masochistically breaking his own heart in the process.
Steve looks at him for a moment, confused, then cringes.
“Are you insane? No fucking way I’m asking Nancy for that, man.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans, “I’m not talking about her, Steve.”
The silence that follows feels heavy, prickling at his skin. He sees the exact moment Steve’s face shifts as understanding dawns on him, of what Eddie’s trying to offer.
“Wait, what?” Steve asks, wide-eyed.
Nowhere to go but forward now.
“You know I’m gay,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, deciding to just barrel through. “So… unless the idea of me touching you is completely disgusting to you—”
“What?” Steve immediately interrupts him, frowning. “What the hell, Eddie, no, of course not.”
It fills Eddie’s heart with joy, how firmly Steve says that. Doesn’t necessarily mean anything, in terms of his occasional delusions, but it’s nice to know.
“Then there’s no issue, sweetheart.” The endearment slips out on accident; he’s used it before, when he’d jokingly flirt with Steve, but right now it feels like it carries more meaning. “Whatever happens, however much time you need, I wouldn’t be disappointed, because this isn’t about me. There’s no need to impress me, or to worry about how your body reacts, you won’t have to do a single thing. You can just lie back, relax, and let me take care of you.”
Steve’s ears are flaming, he’s taking slow, heavy breaths, looking like he’s in a battle with himself that he’s quickly losing. There’s definitely something in his eyes that Eddie tries not to read into, but it seems like… interest?
“Wouldn’t it make things weird? Between us?” Steve finally asks.
Which isn’t a ‘no’. It’s not even a ‘maybe’. Steve’s gone straight into ‘yes, but’ territory. Eddie’s heart is beating so fast he can hear his own pulse in his ears.
“It doesn’t have to,” he replies with a half-truth. “People have sex and stay friends all the time, and… it wouldn’t even be sex, not really. Like I said, this would be just for you.”
“Exactly!” Steve exclaims. “It would be like… like I’m using you, Eddie.”
“Nope, it wouldn’t,” Eddie shakes his head, limping around the counter so he can stand right in front of Steve, no barrier between them. “For one, I’m the one who offered. And two, pardon me for pointing out the obvious, Stevie, but in case you haven’t noticed, you’re a very, very handsome man. It’s not like I’d be making some epic sacrifice.”
This isn’t the first time he complimented Steve’s looks, far from it. But usually Steve just laughed it off, called him a flatterer; it’s abundantly clear he never took Eddie seriously, because right now he’s downright flustered at the implication behind Eddie’s words.
Yes, of course I want to touch you, why on Earth wouldn’t I?
“If you’re worried about this being awkward, I can blindfold you, you wouldn’t see me,” Eddie helpfully adds, suddenly worried that the blunt reality of his queerness might have given Steve second thoughts. “You can imagine a pretty girl taking care of you.”
To his surprise, Steve winces at that.
“I haven’t done that in a while.”
That gives Eddie pause.
“You mean like… fantasizing?”
“Yeah. It’s just that… for the longest while, um. My thoughts would go to… you know. Nancy. And then we broke up, and it was painful, and then just weird and awkward because we were friends again and I did not want to think of her like that anymore.”
Steve’s definitely a better person than Eddie, because being friends with him never stopped Eddie from having a whole lot of very non-friendly thoughts about him.
“And I haven’t… wanted to think about anyone else for a while now,” Steve continues, sounding jaded. “Maybe it’s all the Upside Down shit, the nightmares, the stress of it all. Like, I’d see a pretty girl, I guess I like her, I wanna ask her out, but… When I’m alone, I don’t really think about… anyone. I just… focus on myself. How it feels.”
Huh. Eddie’s trying really hard not to jump to conclusions. Because he knows exactly what it feels like, not wanting to think about girls, feeling confused about what it meant, when it was all his peers obsessed about once they hit puberty. But in Eddie’s case, the answer came rather quickly, once he realized that he just really, really wanted to think about guys instead. Steve does like girls, thought. He was in love with Nancy. Maybe it really is just stress? Performance anxiety? Like, fantasizing about being with a girl just brings back embarrassing memories of his failures and becomes an instant boner killer?
“Alright,” Eddie tells him softly. “Then you can do just that. Focus on yourself, sweetheart. Whatever you decide, offer’s on the table.”
The silence stretches on. Eddie does his best not to fidget, his stomach in knots.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Steve takes a shaky breath, looks up at him, and nods.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Eddie echoes with a smile and holds out his hand. Steve stares at it.
“Oh shit. Right now?”
“Would you rather go home and spend the night second-guessing everything? I know I would be,” Eddie admits.
Steve lets out a nervous laugh, then reaches out and shyly takes Eddie’s hand.
“Come on, Stevie,” Eddie says, tugging him towards the bedroom. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
***
“I’m gonna put this on you,” Eddie says, approaching Steve, who’s waiting anxiously on the bed, with one of his many black bandanas. He sits down next to Steve and carefully ties it around his eyes, ensuring it’s not too tight. “I think it will help, to disassociate a little from the ah, admittedly, unconventional situation and just… concentrate on the touch. You know?”
Steve nods, hands fidgeting over his criss-crossed legs.
Eddie doesn’t mention that the blindfold is honestly more for his own sake than Steve’s. He’s really not sure if he could go through with this if he had Steve’s eyes on him; he’d definitely forget himself, what this is all about, probably say something stupid. Ruin the whole experience for Steve and possibly their friendship, which he’s already putting at risk here.
Because it could definitely get very weird and very awkward, but Eddie still thinks it’s worth it. If it means Steve could get it through his head that he deserves a whole lot more attention and care than the girls he’s been trying to sleep with would give him. There’s nothing wrong with him, and Eddie’s determined to prove it.
“Can I take your shirt off?”
Steve nods again, and Eddie reaches for his sweatshirt, tugging it over Steve’s raised arms and tossing it to the foot of the bed.
“Okay, good,” Eddie says, eyes roaming, incredibly glad that Steve can’t see the expression on his face right now. Or the bulge already growing in his sweatpants. “Lie down for me, Stevie,” he pushes gently on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve complies, lying back against the pillows, stretching out his legs.
Eddie takes off his rings one by one, putting them on the nightstand, ties his hair up in a messy bun so that it doesn’t get in the way, then throws a leg over Steve’s, crawling up his body. Steve’s lips are slightly parted, and Eddie ignores the overwhelming urge to kiss them, lowering his head to Steve’s neck instead, pressing his lips there. Steve twitches a little, a shaky exhale falling off of his lips, but doesn’t recoil from the touch; so Eddie keeps going, mouthing soft kisses down his neck, over his collarbones. Steve’s breathing picks up, gets deeper.
Eddie moves down to his chest, brushing through the soft hair there with his fingers, until he reaches the right nipple and circles it, slowly, spiraling towards the hardening bud. He mirrors the touch on the left one with his tongue. Steve’s mouth falls open on a soft moan, and his hand reaches for Eddie blindly, sliding into his hair and bunching it up in his fist.
Then, as if suddenly realizing what he’s doing, he jerks his arm away.
“Fuck. Sorry…”
“No, it’s okay. Steve, you can.” Please. Please do it again.
Hesitantly, Steve’s hand returns, more carefully this time.
“Fuck,” he sighs as Eddie seals his mouth around his left nipple and sucks gently, plucking at the right with his fingers. “Oh my god. Noone’s ever…” He trails off, moaning quietly, curving his back towards Eddie’s touches.
It’s a damn crime, Eddie thinks, if nobody’s ever done this for him. There should be some sort of public service announcement. Ladies, please don’t neglect your men’s nipples, they shouldn’t need to wait for a benevolent local queer to have this wonderfully sensual experience. Eddie smiles to himself at his own joke and releases Steve’s nipple with a final gentle tug of his teeth. Steve keens at the loss of Eddie’s mouth, quietening when it starts moving further down, across his stomach, kissing every single mole he comes across. There’s so many.
It’s challenging, being quiet; Eddie wants so badly to say so many things. Like how beautiful Steve is, how lucky Eddie is to be able to do this for him. How he’d love to spend hours kissing every inch of his body, if Steve let him; count all of his moles, make a chart of them. How Steve should abandon all caution and tug harder on his hair, because Eddie’s dick very much appreciates the soft scritches to the scalp, but Eddie wouldn’t mind feeling more. But he only opens his mouth to ask one thing, thumbing on the button of Steve’s jeans.
“Can I take these off, Stevie?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies breathlessly.
Eddie sits up, mourning silently as Steve’s hand withdraws from his hair. He winces at a muscle spasm in his bat-mangled left thigh, massages it briefly, then starts undoing Steve’s pants. Even without taking them off, he can see the obvious bulge; and sure enough, as he drags them down Steve’s hips, he can see the dark blue briefs tented with a half-mast. Eddie leaves them on, for now; there are other, newly revealed parts of Steve that still deserve his attention.
He positions himself between Steve’s spread knees and starts with his lips brushing the left knee, slowly traveling up his inner thigh, leaving a wet trail of kisses behind. He keeps them all soft, fighting the urge to bite down and mark the smooth skin. Steve’s legs open easily for him, wider as he inches closer to the elastic of the leg band. When he looks up, Steve’s biting on his lip, shifting his hips a little, expectant; but not yet.
Eddie moves back and repeats the same pattern on Steve’s right leg. This time, as he reaches the top, Steve’s outright squirming, silently begging for more. Eddie’s firm in his intent to take it slow, but it’s not for the purpose of teasing, so now he doesn’t even pause when his lips meet cotton; Steve gasps as they move further between his legs, over his delicate sack.
Steve’s hand makes its way back into Eddie’s hair, and he rejoices at feeling an insistent tug. He keeps brushing his lips upwards, over Steve’s shaft, long and wonderfully hard now, firm enough to rise and strain at the fabric.
Whatever issues with his libido Steve described… Eddie isn’t seeing any. Steve’s arousal only grows with each touch, breathing loud and uneven, pink hues spreading from his face down his neck and chest, teeth worrying his lower lip, and there’s a tiny dark spot on his briefs at the head of his cock that Eddie seals his lips around and sucks on.
“Aaahhh,” Steve exhales, hips twitching upwards. “Fuck, Eddie…”
Eddie freezes, feeling like his brain just exploded from Steve moaning his name. Explicitly addressing him, which means… Steve’s perfectly aware of what’s happening, isn’t lost in any fantasy. He knows it’s him and not pretending otherwise. Does this mean anything? Maybe not, but Eddie’s too helpless to ignore it, losing all willpower to act like he’s immune to it all. To the feel and taste of the man he’s been head over heels for months, to the sounds he makes, to his own name on his lips.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he shushes, pressing a kiss to Steve’s belly as he starts tugging down his briefs. “Gonna take care of you. Look at you,” he whispers reverently, lips taking the same path as before, but now directly touching the skin of the underside, adding a bit of tongue to each kiss that makes Steve’s cock twitch against his lips. “Baby, you’re wet.” He glides his tongue around the smooth pink head, tip snatching a droplet from the slit; Steve whines, and the hand in Eddie’s hair tugs again.
Eddie’s own hardness aches, pulsates, miserable from getting ignored, and the discomfort in his thigh never went away; but Eddie couldn’t care less, focused entirely on Steve’s dick as it slides into his open mouth. He slowly sinks down, taking the whole thick length down his throat, using his arm to keep Steve’s hips still; at least for now, until the first inevitable wave of nausea passes. The astonished noise Steve makes is music to his ears.
“Holy shit, Eddie,” he mutters, raising his head as if he wants to look, then remembering the blindfold and dropping it back to the pillow.
Eddie would grin, if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. Breathing through his nose, he slowly moves up, all the way to the tip, circling his tongue around it before he slides back to the root. He repeats the motion, again and again, adding suction to each upward movement, drawing more little moans out of Steve with each passing of his lips at the sensitive head.
Eddie might be insecure in a lot of ways, but he knows he’s good at this. It’s ironic, he thinks, how cocksucker is supposed to be an insult. Guys that throw the word around in this manner clearly have never gotten a properly satisfying blowjob, nor do they deserve one, in his opinion; but if someone were to take pity on them and blow their shallow bigoted minds, they might just sing differently.
He grips Steve’s cock at the base and bobs his head faster, removing the arm that’s been pinning Steve down and letting him thrust up into his mouth, shifting up to adjust his position so he doesn’t get choked. Steve’s likely not even aware he’s doing this, and Eddie’s absolutely not letting him know.
The blindfold’s definitely doing its job, letting Steve take what he needs, unrestrained, unburdened. Exactly how Eddie wants him to feel. Steve looks completely lost in the pleasure, panting and grunting, sucking in and clenching his abs, both of his hands now in Eddie’s hair, making his loose bun fall apart completely.
Eddie shifts closer on his knees so he no longer needs an arm to keep himself upright, using his freed hand to give Steve even more sensation, gently fondling his balls for a minute, rolling them against his palm. He moves further down, very tempted to slide a finger inside Steve, but they haven’t talked about it, he’s not sure how Steve would react. He settles on pressing a thumb into Steve’s perineum, massaging in slow circles and shifting until he knows he’s in the right spot, from the way Steve cries out and pushes down into the touch. External stimulation is definitely underrated.
The thigh muscles of Eddie’s left leg scream at him, shake from the uncomfortable position, but he ignores them, shifting more of his weight on his good right leg, and keeps sucking, sloppy and drooling, and kneading at Steve’s prostate.
Steve’s incoherent mewls and moans gradually turn into words, various profanities and blasphemies; but mostly, just ‘Eddie, Eddie, Eddie’. It’s inconceivable to Eddie, it’s a wet dream come true, hearing his own name from Steve’s lips chanted like a lewd prayer. It’s so hot his brain is melting, his hips desperately humping thin air, cock leaking in his sweats.
He’s dying to touch himself, knowing it would likely only take a few pumps now, but that would mean taking at least one of his hands off of Steve, and he’s not about to do that. Especially not when Steve is so obviously close, balls tightening, cock swelling in his mouth, hips bucking frantically, chasing release.
Steve’s mostly silent in the few seconds right on the edge, just gasping for air, blowing out little shaky breaths of ‘ah, ah, ah’. Eddie doubles down on the suction, pressing his thumb firmly into Steve’s prostate and just holding, until Steve’s hips rise from the bed, and he spills down Eddie’s throat with a loud groan.
The moment he collapses back down to the mattress, Eddie’s resolve breaks. He slides his mouth off of Steve’s dick, swallows, sits back on his heels and immediately shoves his hand down his own sweatpants, jerking hard, already teetering over the edge. And yet, his orgasm still takes him off guard, feels like a sudden punch to his gut, a few seconds too early; because in that moment, he made the mistake of opening his eyes and glancing at Steve.
Only to find Steve’s blindfold removed, wide hazel eyes looking back at him in wonder.
Face immediately turning red with shame, Eddie convulses as his dick kicks in his hand, spilling inside his sweats. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was delusional to think it wouldn’t, but he hoped at least that Steve wouldn’t witness that, that the blindfold would save him from that humiliation.
“Oh Jesus,” he whimpers, panicking, frozen on the spot, come-soaked hand still inside his pants. He jerks it out, wiping it on the sheets, unable to look Steve in the eye. “Steve, I’m… I’m so sorry, I just—”
Steve grabs his forearm, pulling him forward, and the next thing Eddie knows are warm, insistent lips pressing against his mouth, Steve’s tongue sliding alongside his own. Even though Eddie’s mouth responds on instinct, his dumb post-climax brain is struggling to process what’s happening.
The awareness comes slowly, followed by a euphoria tenfold more intense than any orgasm could bring. Steve’s kissing him. Nothing chaste about it either, his mouth determined, almost frantic, one hand on Eddie’s cheek angling his head, the other sliding across his back.
“Is this okay?” Steve whispers, anxious, as they break apart, his eyes shyly darting between Eddie’s own.
“Yes,” Eddie replies, breathless, heart thumping in his chest. “Oh my god, yes, Stevie.”
“Fuck, thank god,” Steve sighs, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to Eddie’s, his breathing still ragged.
He rolls them both to their side, arm winding around Eddie’s waist, holding him close. He looks at Eddie, his beautiful doe eyes warm and full of awe; Eddie feels like he’s melting under that gaze, realization slowly dawning on him. This is really happening. They’re practically cuddling. Steve just kissed him. And there’s nothing in his expression to indicate that he regrets what just transpired between them.
“You said that this… that it wouldn’t be sex, not really,” Steve quotes him. “But… it felt like sex, Eddie. And I wanted it to be. That’s what I’ve been thinking about, the entire time. I… I didn’t wanna imagine anyone else, just you.”
Eddie swallows a lump in his throat. It all sounds a bit too good to be true, a little much for his cynical mind.
“Stevie—”
“I know, I know.” Steve looks away, sniffing. “I know it’s not real, that you were just helping me out, and I’m… I’m really grateful, it was amazing, I just haven’t felt this way with— since— shit, I’m sorry, I’m making this awkward now.”
What?
“Wait. Steve, wait, what?” Eddie tugs on his chin to that their eyes meet again. “Sweetheart…”
“Don’t,” Steve shakes his head, sounding choked, his lip trembling a little. “You don’t need to keep calling me that anymore.”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie presses on, lips brushing Steve’s, drawing a shocked breath out of him. “Honey,” another kiss, another gasp. “Angel. Sunshine. Baby.” Steve fully shudders at the last one, and Eddie draws back to look at him, wet-eyed, thumb stroking Steve’s cheek. “I would call you all of that, and more, every single day. If you were mine.”
Steve whines, closing his eyes, pressing himself even closer to Eddie, breathing against his lips.
“Can I be?” He asks quietly, hopefully, and Eddie’s heart sings. “If… if we do this again… I don’t want a blindfold. I don’t wanna pretend. And I wanna touch you, too.”
“Even though I’m not a girl?”
Steve chuckles wetly and looks at him.
“Eddie. Did you miss the part where I said, I thought about you the whole time? And it was— And I—” He sputters, blushing. “I was so turned on I thought I’d combust,” he confesses, flustered. “You being a guy, it never… never really crossed my mind. Is that weird? I feel like… I know it’s supposed to be important, but… it’s just not. Is that wrong?”
A little weird, Eddie admits in his head. Most guys would be freaking out right now. But Steve Harrington never is like most guys, is he? Eddie’s definitely not spending another second studying this glorious gift horse’s mouth. He’s taking that horse, and he’s riding— no, actually, that’s a very unfortunate analogy, because all he can suddenly think about is riding Steve’s dick. Except maybe Steve would want that. Would he? Dear god, please.
“There’s nothing wrong with how you feel, Stevie,” Eddie replies truthfully. “And nothing wrong with you, period. I hope I made it clear to you tonight.” He smiles gently, fingers brushing down Steve’s neck, over the scattering of moles on his shoulder. “You just need some love and care, sweetheart. I’ve got plenty of both for you.”
“…Love?” Steve asks, wide-eyed and astonished; maybe it was too soon, but Eddie’s not taking that back. It’s been so exhausting, hiding his true feelings from Steve.
“Baby,” he coos, pouring six months’ worth of yearning into his voice. “You have no idea how much.”
Steve doesn’t say anything back; Eddie never expected him to, obviously. But the way he smiles at Eddie, pure joy and adoration in his eyes, is already more than Eddie's poor lovesick heart could ever have hoped for.
If you enjoyed the fic please consider feeding kudos to the author ^^
Featuring: Smut, Porn With Plot, Some Humor, Fluff, College AU, 2000s AU, Roommates, Pining, Eddie Has a Crush on Steve, Sex Toys, Fleshlights, Cock Rings, Masturbation in Shower, Fantasizing, Soft/Service Top Steve, Confident Bisexual Steve, Virgin Eddie, Gay Disaster Eddie, Bottom Eddie, Minute Man Munson, Coming Out, Confessions, Friends with Benefits to Lovers, First Time, Foreplay, Embarrassment, Teasing, Voice Kink, Awkward Conversations, Nipple Play, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Come Play, Sloppy Seconds, Laughter During Sex, Dirty Talk, Blow Jobs, Shotgunning, Thigh Riding, First Time Bottoming, Kink Negotiation, Enthusiastic Consent, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Sexual Overstimulation, Light Masochism, Multiple Orgasms, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Scratching, Tickling, Post-Coital Cuddling, Getting Together, Freak4Freak Steddie, Horny Steddie, they are mutually freaky and obscene and perfect for each other idek what else to say, POV alternating
When the power briefly goes out in their dorm, Eddie blindly grabs what he assumes to be a flashlight from Steve's bed. As if having a crush on his hot roommate wasn't enough, accidentally discovering his sex toy sends Eddie into such a spiral of graphic fantasies about Steve that he can no longer look him in the eye and tries to avoid him at all cost. Until Steve confronts him about his behavior one morning, and things take a very unexpected, rather embarrassing at first, but absolutely amazing turn, with Steve matching his freak down to a capital F.
Written for @steddielovemonth day 23 prompt: flashlight
~4.4k; fic text removed from the post bc it was getting too long; tags updated in the original post.
Steve keeps feeling a whole lot of things about Eddie all week, and finally gets to fuck him the weekend after. Eddie gets bolder about sharing what he enjoys, and discovers that the fleshlight isn’t the only sex toy Steve owns.
Written for @steddielovemonth day 27 prompt: ring(s)
Eddie has no clue what's going on in this laundry basket game, he's just here to ogle Harrington running around in those scandalously tiny shorts.
Meanwhile, Steve keeps messing up because he's getting incredibly distracted by big beautiful brown eyes watching him from the bleachers.
prompt: demodog | rated: G | wc: 1.458 | tags: established relationship, Steve & Dustin friendship, Eddie & Dustin friendship, saying goodbye, emotional hurt/comfort
They knew the day would come, dreaded it like a dentist appointment they’ve been avoiding for too long.
Eddie knew it would be hard to say goodbye, knew it would hit Steve even harder than himself. Not because this is a goodbye forever but because it still feels like an end to something they didn’t get to hold on to and cherish for long enough.
“And you’ll call me as soon as you get there? Promise?”
Dustin nods and Eddie can see that he’s just as miserable as Steve is, because he doesn’t even roll his eyes, doesn’t complain about hearing the same question for the tenth time now.
“Are you sure you didn’t forget anything?”
Another nod.
“You got enough gas in the tank? Did you check the tires again?”
“Steve, you already made me check the whole car three times. It's all good, I’ll be okay.”
More awkward silence and two pairs of eyes looking everywhere but at each other.
It’s painful to witness and be part of. They’ve been doing this dance for almost twenty minutes now, both stalling, neither of them wanting to make the first move.
Eddie gets it. He, too, feels emotional about sending Dustin off to college but refusing to let go will not make it any less real.
“If your roommate turns out to be a dick, you’ll let me know and I’ll pay you a visit,” Eddie jokes in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood, but all it gets him is a thumbs up from Dustin and a shaky sigh from Steve that sounds dangerously close to a sob.
It’s killing him.
“Hey, can we- ugh. Guuuys. Please, can we not make it harder than it already is? You know I can’t handle this silence. It makes me nervous and then I start saying stupid things and you’ll hate me for being insensitive and-”
Eddie takes a deep breath to stop his tirade, looking between the other two for a reaction that doesn't come.
“Baby?” Eddie says and places a hand on Steve’s face for comfort, “Dustin won’t be out of the world. And he’s gonna call. Every day.“
He turns to look at Dustin who stares back at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Every day? Eddie, that-”
Silent communication isn’t usually Eddie’s strong suit, but years of being the little shithead’s DM seems to work in his favour – one look is enough to stop him from arguing.
“-is such a great idea. You took the words right out of my mouth.”
Dustin laughs and they can all tell that it’s fake but for the moment it seems to be enough. Steve’s eyes are still watery but he stands a little taller now, hands in his pockets, gifting them with a small smile.
“Maybe we could make it once a week?” he asks and Dustin exhales audibly relieved.
“Of course, Steve, every week. And I’ll visit as often as I can.”
Coming from anyone else, this would sound like an empty promise, but knowing Claudia Henderson, Eddie is sure Dustin has not much choice but to stick to his words, if he doesn’t want to send his poor mother into an early grave by not showing his face regularly.
It’s part of why him and Steve decided to stay in Hawkins. Maybe one day they will pack up their things and leave, but for now, this is home. The place where Dustin and Robin and all of the others will always come back to because their families are here, Steve and Eddie included.
“I’ll miss you so much, man.”
Steve finally breaks, can’t hold back his tears anymore when he pulls Dustin into his arms.
Eddie stays back, doesn’t want to interrupt their moment, but his heart breaks all the same. He’s happy for Dustin, excited to hear all about college and to witness the great things he’ll achieve in his life. But it’s hard to let go, harder to realise that the kid he once took under his wings, is now ready to spread his own.
He doesn’t need them anymore, and as much as that thought hurts, it also fills Eddie with a sense of pride to know he was part of the journey that took Dustin to where he is now – not a kid anymore, standing on his own two feet, ready to conquer the world without his big brothers constantly at his back to look out for him.
“Come here you big baby,” Dustin teases him, one arm held out to make space for Eddie in their embrace.
They’re all crying now but that’s okay. Just shows how much they mean to each other, forever bound by an undying friendship that will undoubtedly pass the test of time and distance.
Back inside the house, after watching Dustin drive off, Eddie and Steve get cosy on the couch. Steve’s head in his lap, Eddie gently plays with his boyfriends’ hair, music playing quietly in the background.
“God, I hated this so much,” says Steve after a while, looking up at him through big, sad eyes. “I thought Robin would be the worst. But saying goodbye to Dustin makes me feel so… I don’t know. Empty? It’s different with Robs. She’s, like, always with me.”
He taps his chest, right over his heart, and Eddie understands exactly what he means.
“Dustin will probably forget I even exist.”
Dramatics are usually Eddie’s thing, but maybe he’s been rubbing off on Steve.
“Oh stop it, babe. You know that’s not true. You will always be Dustin’s favourite.”
Eddie doesn’t say it just to make Steve feel better; he truly believes it.
“I mean, maybe second after me, but- you know.” He winks at Steve, who scoffs in response.
“Yeah, yeah. Tell yourself what you want. But I was his hero long before your stinky ass came along.”
“You wound me, Harrington! I thought you love my ass,” Eddie cackles, already feeling lighter now. It feels good to laugh, good to see Steve smile again after shedding so many tears.
“You never really told me how you two got together. I mean, why’s Dustin your favourite out of all of the kids? Mike, I would’ve understood, you know, because he’s Nancy’s little brother and all that. But Dustin?”
“First of all, I don’t have favourites,” Steve protests although they both know it’s a lie, “And second, it’s Dustin because-”
Steve’s thoughts seem to drift off for a moment, and Eddie worries he’s lost him again to the sad feelings. But then he smiles fondly to himself, like he’s reminded of a beautiful memory.
“He needed me. At a time when no one else did. Kinda gave me a purpose when I’d lost everything else.”
Eddie’s heart aches at those words; he doesn’t know much about The King’s Fall From Grace, but he can guess how lonely it must’ve felt.
“I was on my way to apologise to Nance for- nothing. But then this kid, who I’d maybe shared three sentences with before, showed up out of nowhere and told me to come with him. Basically forced me to drive home with him to take care of his pet.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What? You let a child kidnap you? Steve!” Eddie can’t help but laugh.
“Hey! You know how bossy he can be. What was I supposed to do? Besides, Dart wasn’t just any old pet.”
“Dart?”
“Y’know, like that one Musketeer but in short? Anyway. This child had brought a demodog home with him to keep as a pet.”
“Wait, what? He'd done WHAT?”
“Right?! So stupid. Problem was, he hadn’t considered that the small slimy creature would get real big, real fast. And then it ate Dustin’s cat. That’s why he asked me to kill it. But when we got there, Dart was already gone.”
Eddie listens as Steve tells him the whole story of how Dustin had stumbled into his life and stayed. Tells him about how they bonded on the train tracks, over girls and hairspray, and about how they got attacked by a group of demodogs in the junkyard. About how he couldn’t stop feeling responsible for these kids after that first time they fought together, and after what happened with Billy, and in the tunnels, and in that horror trip with the Russians-
“-and you,” Steve says and sits up to kiss him, first on the cheek, then on the mouth, then on the tip of his nose. “He’s also my favourite because without him, I wouldn’t have you.”
That part of the story, Eddie knows. And just like Steve, he'll forever be grateful for not only Dustin's friendship but most of all, for bringing Steve into his life.
Don't get him wrong, Eddie's very impressed by his ultimate badass boyfriend, he just wishes sometimes Steve were... a little less brave. Eddie's starting to get gray hairs from it all.
Featuring: Smut, Porn With Plot, Some Humor, Fluff, College AU, 2000s AU, Roommates, Pining, Eddie Has a Crush on Steve, Sex Toys, Fleshlights, Masturbation in Shower, Fantasizing, Soft/Service Top Steve, Confident Bisexual Steve, Virgin Eddie, Gay Disaster Eddie, Bottom Eddie, Eddie is a Mess, Coming Out, Confessions, Friends to Lovers, First Time, Foreplay, Embarrassment, Teasing, Voice Kink, Awkward Conversations, Nipple Play, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Come Play, Sloppy Seconds, Come Sharing, Laughter During Sex, Dirty Talk, Freak4Freak Steddie, Horny Steddie, they are mutually freaky and obscene and perfect for each other idek what else to say, POV Eddie Munson
When the power briefly goes out in their dorm, Eddie blindly grabs what he assumes to be a flashlight from Steve's bed. As if having a crush on his hot roommate wasn't enough, accidentally discovering his sex toy sends Eddie into such a spiral of graphic fantasies about Steve that he can no longer look him in the eye and tries to avoid him at all cost. Until Steve confronts him about his behavior one morning, and things take a very unexpected, rather embarrassing at first, but absolutely amazing turn, with Steve matching his freak down to a capital F.
Written for @steddielovemonth day 23 prompt: flashlight
The recent power outage in the dorm has completely ruined Eddie Munson’s life.
He was fine, goddammit. He was completely fine with his stupid fucking crush on his stupid fucking roommate—
Wait, no, that’s not fair. Steve’s not stupid. He’s actually pretty damn smart, for someone on a basketball scholarship. He’s ambitious and kind. He’s studying exercise science and wants to be a rehab specialist for people with physical traumas. He’s staying in a regular dorm instead of some frat house like most jocks because he thinks that frat culture is toxic. He’s funny, and extremely handsome, and literally flawless, and— okay, that’s not the point.
Point is, Eddie was fine, he was helplessly pining but at least he could be normal around the guy when all he knew about his sex life was that Steve would sometimes hook up with girls. Eddie could live with occasionally finding a sock on their shared bedroom door and promptly fucking off to the library for a few hours.
It happened maybe once a week, not enough to be really annoying. Steve was otherwise kind of a perfect roommate, especially compared to some of the horror stories Eddie heard from his friends. He was nice, easy-going, they never really argued. He didn’t snore, didn’t leave his shit on Eddie’s side of the room, had his headphones on when listening to all the pop crap he liked, and came in quietly if he was late and Eddie was already sleeping. He’d even bring two coffees to the room, one for Eddie, after his early morning runs.
Eddie was seething with jealousy, of course, every time seeing Steve with this or that girl on his arm, but the knowledge of Steve’s heterosexuality actually helped. It kept Eddie sane. It kept his fantasies he’d very occasionally indulge in rather innocent. What it would be like, kissing those plush lips. Running his hands through all that hair. Going on a real coffee date with him.
The night the power went out, it all went to shit.
Eddie was alone in the room when it happened. They’d normally never touch each other’s stuff, respecting mutual boundaries; but this was an emergency, and he distinctly remembered he’d seen a flashlight lying somewhere on Steve’s bed.
With the faint glow of his wristwatch, Eddie searched and found it. He tried to feel for a switch that should have been somewhere on the side of it; but it was all smooth. Confused, Eddie opened the round lid covering the top of it.
And that, of course, was when the power went back on; it was just a temporary outage. Eddie should have just stayed put and waited, because what he was looking at was definitely not a flashlight, and he would never be able to unsee it.
Eddie was frozen on the spot for several seconds, cheeks progressively getting warmer and cold sweat running down his back; then, he frantically put the lid back on and threw it back on Steve’s bed like he’d been burned. He stumbled across the room onto his own bed and crawled under the sheets to scream into his pillow.
Eddie might have been a virgin, but he was by no means an innocent soul. It was completely obvious, what this was. He even remembered what they were called: fleshlights. Ha-ha, so original. FUCK.
That in itself shouldn’t have fazed him. So the guy owned a sex toy, big deal. Except for the silicone part of it being very distinctly not a pussy. Eddie had several long, life-shattering seconds to become very aware of that.
Steve’s fleshlight was an anal variant. And that, too, could have had a very simple heterosexual explanation; straight guys were also into that, right? And most college girls probably wouldn’t be, hence the toy, to play out one’s fantasies in private.
The problem was, just the fact that the toy could have been a fantasy of another guy was now completely ruining Eddie. He couldn’t stop obsessing over it. Thinking about Steve fucking a girl had never crossed his mind; it wasn’t exactly an appealing sexual scenario for his gay brain. But picturing Steve with that fleshlight…
How many times when Eddie’d found a sock on the handle, this had actually been happening behind the closed door? No girl involved. Just Steve, bucking his hips into the toy, chasing his own release, lips parted, gasping, moaning. Maybe fantasizing about fucking a guy. Maybe even— no, Eddie firmly banned himself from even going for that option.
Eddie quietly, embarrassedly jerked off about it in the shower that night and promised himself, never again. And then he did it again the next night. And the next. By the fourth time, he couldn’t contain it; as he spilled against the shower curtain, he was very vividly imagining Steve moaning his name.
He started avoiding Steve, as much as possible. It wasn’t that difficult, he wasn’t a complete shut-in, thank you very much. He’d just now do things he’d often do in his room elsewhere. Do his homework and write his D&D campaigns at the library. Practice his guitar in the music room. Set his alarms for earlier so he’d be out of the room by the time Steve got back from his runs. Which meant no more free coffee, but that was a small price to pay for his own sanity.
***
Two weeks after the power outage, Eddie wakes up on a Saturday morning and immediately realizes he’s screwed. Steve’s sitting at the foot of his bed, two coffees in hand, sipping on one of them. He looks freshly showered, hair still damp, and Eddie realizes with a jolt that he must have either gone on his run earlier, or cut it short. Either way, it’s obvious he’s waiting for Eddie to wake up just to ambush him.
“Coffee?” Steve asks with a sweet, innocent smile as he hands one of the cups to Eddie. Their fingers brush, and Eddie tries to keep a somewhat normal expression on his face; all the more difficult since he only just woke up.
“Uh. Thanks,” Eddie replies lamely, sitting up and immediately gulping down half of it.
“So,” Steve says, seeming determined to get straight to the point. “Why are you suddenly avoiding me, Eddie?”
Shit, here we go. Eddie squirms, setting the coffee cup aside on his nightstand and drawing his knees in, hugging them. Great, he also has morning wood. Very helpful. At least his thick blanket is covering that from Steve's watchful gaze.
Denial is the best strategy. Denial, and not looking at Steve, because he absolutely cannot do that without picturing—
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“Right,” Steve scoffs. “You just all of a sudden decided to be an early bird, even on weekends, instead of the usual, crawling out of your bed half-conscious 20 minutes before class.”
“Maybe I’m trying to be a more organized person,” Eddie makes another attempt; but Steve’s not having it.
“Don’t bullshit me, Munson. Just…” Steve sighs, frustrated. “Just talk to me. Are you pissed at me for something? Did I do something wrong? I thought we were friends.”
That makes Eddie glance up. He feels horribly guilty all of a sudden; Steve’s been giving him confused looks with his puppy dog eyes for two weeks, and now he sounds genuinely upset.
Before Eddie’s fantasies about him took that recent completely mortifying turn, they were friends. Not best friends, but they’d talk, and banter, and even share an occasional secret late night joint outside, behind the storage shed.
“You did nothing wrong, Steve,” Eddie says and attempts a reassuring smile.
“Then what happened?” Steve puts his coffee down on the floor and turns to him fully, drawing one leg in sweatpants under him. “Because I swear, you barely spoke two words to me lately outside of hello or goodnight.”
Because I can’t even look at you without picturing you fucking your anal sex toy and instantly chubbing up and ridiculously hoping you might not actually be straight. Yeah, right. That completely reasonable answer is totally going to save their friendship.
Eddie’s eyes dart around the room as he scrambles for some kind of excuse. And of course, in the least helpful way possible, his eyes land on it. The fleshlight, lying just behind Steve’s pillow. Taunting him.
Belatedly, Eddie realizes he should look somewhere else, but when he turns to Steve, he notices with horror that Steve has already followed his gaze. And now, he’s turning back to Eddie, one eyebrow slowly lifting.
“Eddie?” He asks inquisitively.
Eddie’s going to die. Fucking implode, right here and now.
“I can explain! It was— there was a power outage, and I needed a flashlight, and I thought— I’m so sorry, I never meant to snoop!” Eddie’s cheeks are feeling redder by the second.
Steve watches him as he rambles, head tilted, a smirk slowly growing on his face.
“Dude, I’m not mad,” he chuckles. “I just— Why are you being so weird? Didn’t take you for a prude, Eddie Munson.”
“I’m not!” Eddie groans, collapsing back against his pillow and huffing, embarrassed and frustrated. “It’s not like that. Shit, can we just like— not talk about it anymore?”
He prays that Steve will just drop it. When he feels the mattress shifting, he assumes Steve’s getting up; but of course, Eddie could never be so lucky. Steve Harrington is suddenly practically on top of him, leaning against an elbow by Eddie’s pillow. Staring down at him. Studying him. Eddie’s heart thumps against his ribcage, mouth falling open, eyes darting all over that beautiful mole-speckled face. He knows his own face is probably an open book right now, and he’s scared of what Steve can read from it.
Yet there’s no mockery coming from Steve, no judgment. In fact, there’s something like amazement on Steve's face, his eyes sparkling, his cheeks also turning a pretty shade of pink.
“Oh,” he exhales. “It’s… it’s like that, then.” He bites his lip, giggles, and fully collapses down on the bed, half on top of Eddie, half tucked against his side, face on Eddie’s pillow.
Steve’s leg is draped across his own thigh over the blanket, dangerously close to where Eddie’s barely subsided morning boner is reawakening with great enthusiasm. Eddie’s very conscious of it, tries not to move even an inch, not even turning his head, staring up at the ceiling. He’s pretty sure he’s about to have a heart attack. No way this is happening.
“You gotta tell me if I’m reading this wrong, right now, Eddie,” Steve speaks softly in his ear, his breath hot and damp against Eddie’s skin. His hand comes up, slides across Eddie’s chest, rests on the side of his neck. “Please,” he insists, when Eddie remains silent, too dumbstruck to answer.
“You’re—” Eddie croaks, trying to speak, clears his throat. “You’re not.”
He hears Steve take in a shaky breath, and then his body shifts, a tiny, subtle roll of his hips against Eddie’s side. Eddie’s blanket is still between them, so he doesn’t actually feel it, but when he glances down— holy shit, there’s a distinct half-mast shape visible in Steve’s sweatpants.
Then, there’s a warm, wet touch to the side of his neck, sending a jolt of arousal through his whole body before he even realizes; Steve’s lips. A slow, open-mouthed kiss that ends on a shuddering breath and a question, whispered against his electrified skin.
“This okay?”
“Yes,” Eddie gasps, turning his head and burying his face in Steve’s still slightly damp hair; he inhales the scent of some fruity shampoo and shuts his eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and sighs shakily as Steve’s lips move again.
It feels like time has stopped, like the Earth stopped spinning, like everything outside his bed just vanished. Eddie’s entire world narrows down to that warm mouth, brushing at his neck with soft, unhurried, devastatingly sensual kisses that gradually move up towards his ear. He can hear it all too, in the silence of the room, each quiet smooch as Steve’s lips detach from his skin before the next kiss, and the next, and the next.
This is happening, holy fuck, he’s having the most erotic experience of his entire life and it’s with Steve. And Eddie has no idea what to do, he’s vaguely aware that he should probably be reciprocating somehow, but his body feels all soft and spongy like sometimes when he’s smoked a bit too much, his muscles aren’t cooperating. He’s making some truly pathetic noises, too, has no willpower to stop them.
Steve shifts again, raising his head, and suddenly Eddie’s facing him, so close their noses are brushing; he can see, a little blurry, how blown Steve’s pupils are, can feel him panting against his own lips. Belatedly, Eddie wonders if his own morning breath smells bad, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind, definitely isn’t recoiling.
Eddie’s body finally kicks into gear, barely. He rolls onto his side to face Steve properly, drags his hand over Steve’s shoulder, rests it on the boy’s cheek, a touch Steve immediately leans into, nuzzles against his palm. Everything about this feels surreal.
“Tell me,” Steve asks softly, eyes darting between Eddie’s. “Tell me what you thought about. After you found my toy.”
Steve’s hand rests on his upper chest, thumb tracing his collarbone. Eddie feels powerless, entranced by Steve’s voice, his touch, his closeness. His mouth opens, almost against his will, even as the rest of his body squirms in shame.
“Thought about you,” he confesses. “Using it. Hoped that… that meant you’re not straight.”
“I’m not,” Steve smiles at him, and Eddie’s heart jumps in his chest; even if it were already kind of obvious. They are so close, it feels like Steve might kiss him, and yet he just keeps speaking. “It’s just… easier, finding girls. I’ve only fooled around with one guy. Back in high school. But I like thinking about it, that’s why… why I have it.” Steve bites his lip. “What else, tell me,” he keeps talking in that low, sultry voice that’s making Eddie’s brain leak out of his ears and his dick weep in his boxers. “Was it just me? Or were you there?”
Eddie whines, shutting his eyes.
“Yeah. Sometimes. But mostly… just you. And you’d be— fuck. I can’t.”
“You’re so shy,” Steve says, but his tone isn’t mocking, it’s downright delighted.
He moves again, and Eddie can feel him shuffle on the bed; scared that Steve’s leaving, he opens his eyes, only to see Steve shoving his feet under the blanket, and then he’s pulling it up, over both of their heads, covering them in darkness. It’s so unexpected and confusing Eddie lets out a surprised giggle.
“What are you doing?!”
Steve’s body presses against him again, and without the extra thick layer between their hips, oh, he can feel it. Steve’s hard against his thigh.
“Safe space,” Steve breathes hotly against his cheek. “Tell me the whole fantasy. One that made you the most horny. Made you come the hardest.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie groans.
He doesn’t need to think about it too much. It comes to his mind instantly, the most vulgar one, completely mortifying because for just a moment, he actually considered making part of it a reality.
Is this supposed to be foreplay? It’s nothing like Eddie’s ever heard of. Not from friends talking of their experiences, not from reading spicy novels. He used to think, that when it finally came to sex, he’d be ready. He knew all the mechanics, all the right spots to touch a guy. Apparently, nothing could have ever prepared him for whatever this is. For Steve Harrington.
He was already burning up; the lack of air and their shared warmth under the blanket definitely isn’t helping.
“We’re going to suffocate,” Eddie points out, already knowing he’s not getting out of this, no longer even sure if he wants to.
“Then you better be quick,” he hears Steve chuckle in the darkness. “Tell me, Eddie,” Steve asks again, slowly rolling his hips; Eddie hears his quiet moan as his cock rubs against Eddie’s thigh through the sweatpants.
This is turning Steve on. What the fuck.
The knowledge of that, and the fact that Steve can’t see his face, finally give Eddie just enough courage.
“Thought about how… how I’d watch you using your toy. You wouldn’t know about it, I— I don’t know, maybe I was hiding under the bed, I haven’t thought it through.”
“Doesn’t matter. Keep going,” Steve encourages, rolling into Eddie’s thigh again and sighing into his neck. Eddie whines, his own dick already leaking in his boxers; but he’s deliberately angling his crotch away, because he’s probably going to come in 30 seconds if he tries to hump Steve back.
“And then— then after you’re done, you leave it on your bed and you leave the room. And I—” Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I take it. Still filled with your— um. And I use it on myself. I didn’t— I never actually did it!” He hurries to clarify. “Just… just thought about it.”
For a moment, Steve is perfectly still, and in the deafening silence Eddie’s suddenly terrified. This is it, this is the moment Steve realizes Eddie’s a complete freak and the world’s greatest pervert and feels repulsed and—
Steve growls against him, and the next second, the blanket gets thrown off, and Steve is grabbing his burning face and kissing him, finally. Deep and dirty, licking his mouth, moaning into it, turning Eddie’s brain into sweet pulp devoid of a single coherent thought.
When Steve pulls back to breathe, it’s with a frantic grin on his beautiful face. Eddie has no idea what his own face is doing; probably looking incredibly dumb.
“Wait here,” Steve tells him, pressing another hard, but brief kiss to his lips before hopping off of his bed.
Eddie’s definitely not going anywhere. He has never felt so many conflicting and confusing things in such a short time span; he’s horny and excited, completely disoriented and overwhelmed, he feels really fucking awkward and embarrassed, but it’s somehow enjoyable, because Steve seems to be absolutely thriving on it.
Steve returns after rummaging through a drawer on his side of the room, crawls back over Eddie and grins, and as Eddie looks at the goddamn fleshlight and a bottle of lube Steve drops on the mattress beside him, the thought that’s been slowly forming in the back of Eddie’s muddled mind finally takes shape.
Oh, this is fantastic. He couldn’t have gotten any luckier. Steve’s as much of a freak as him. Maybe worse, actually, because he also apparently has zero shame about it.
And now he’s kneeling over Eddie’s crotch and taking off his shirt. Not that Eddie’s never seen it all before, but he’d usually at least try not to stare; now, he realizes he can. Steve’s fucking gorgeous. Muscular, deliciously hairy all over his toned chest, his whole body covered in little moles, his nipples dark and perky. Eddie’s mouth waters.
He doesn’t even think about it, acting on autopilot. He springs up, wraps an arm around Steve, and seals his mouth over the right nipple, sucking gently.
“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve gasps and moans, burying his hand in Eddie’s hair and pressing him closer to his own chest, encouraging. Eddie keeps going, nibbles and licks at the little bud for a minute, drawing more beautiful noises out of Steve.
When Eddie falls back against the pillow, he’s feeling rather pleased with himself. Finally, he’s done something to get Steve a little flustered, for a change. The boy is panting, looking down at Eddie with wide eyes and an amazed smile.
It was nice while it lasted, anyway, because Steve immediately turns the tables again.
“Yours, too,” he says, tugging up the edge of Eddie’s T-shirt.
Eddie lifts himself up, raises his arms and lets Steve drag it off of him; then, Steve’s lips are around his own nipple. Payback time.
Except Eddie doesn’t have nearly enough stamina to endure it. His cock keeps twitching at the suction, he’s so wound up he honestly panics that this could be over for him too soon and in the most embarrassing way.
“Steve,” he whines, regretfully pushing the boy’s confused face away from his chest. “I, um.” He’s blushing, but this isn’t exactly worse than everything else he’s said out loud. “I might actually come if you keep at it, so…”
“Really?” Jesus, Steve’s smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Can’t have that. Not today at least, but I’d love to see that some other time.” And he winks at Eddie.
Eddie’s too stunned to reply. For one, he’s slowly coming to the realization that he might have gotten himself involved with some sort of sex demon. And two… Some other time? Yes. Fuck yes.
His brain bluescreens after that, because Steve is reaching for the damn fleshlight and opening it.
“I actually clean it every time, just so you know,” he says. “The sleeve comes out, I take it to the shower with me. But,” he grins cockily. “Since you want it a little dirty for yourself. I can arrange that.” He puts the toy beside him and reaches for his waistband.
Eddie watches in a horny daze as Steve tugs his sweatpants down his hips, revealing his cock, long and thick, pink at the tip, curving upwards; it’s gorgeous, so much better than any of Eddie’s lame fantasies. If there’s gonna be some other time, Eddie wants to blow it. Choke on it, preferably.
Steve reaches for the lube and pops the cap.
“Do you wanna just watch, or…?” He asks, tilting his head.
Steve’s so brazen, unapologetic, unashamed of his own body. So confident when it comes to sex. Eddie’s really jealous; he must look like a newborn deer on ice in comparison.
But Steve is also really good at leading in bed. He never once asked if Eddie’s had any experience, probably didn’t need to, it’s kind of obvious. He keeps taking initiative, gently and patiently, and it helps a lot. Like now, as he’s taking Eddie’s hand and squeezing the lube into his palm.
“Put it on me?”
Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He reaches for Steve’s cock, spreading the lube over it, stroking gently and staring, almost in an out-of-body experience, as his hand glides against it.
“Fuck,” Steve sighs above him, and when Eddie glances up, Steve’s eyes are on him, dark and hooded. “You wanna get me off like that? Or do you still want your fantasy?”
Eddie’s hand stills. It’s kind of sweet of Steve to ask, he seems determined to do what Eddie desires; the problem is, Eddie has no idea. He wants all of it, everything, all at once. He wants to lock himself in this bedroom with Steve and spend the rest of his life worshiping this boy’s beautiful body.
Thankfully, Steve decides for him, pushing gently on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” he says with a soft laugh. “Just lie down, baby, enjoy the show.”
Baby. Holy shit.
Eddie watches as Steve grabs the toy, holds the tip of his cock against its opening. He pushes in with a groan, stilling when he’s fully buried inside it, and meets Eddie’s eyes.
“Fuck. Feels good. You’re gonna like it too, I promise.”
Steve holds the fleshlight still and slowly begins to roll his hips, pulling out and pushing back into it. His eyes stay on Eddie.
“Not as good as you’d feel though,” he adds.
A sharp exhale falls off of Eddie’s lips and his eyes widen.
“Guess who I thought about,” Steve asks, his voice now rough and breathy with pleasure. “When I did this.”
Eddie gulps, because no, there’s no way. He drags his eyes across Steve's body, watches the way his stomach flexes as he thrusts into the fleshlight.
“Take a guess, Eddie. I'll give you a hint. Big brown eyes, long curly hair.”
“Me?!” Eddie yelps, feeling hysterical. This has to be a lie. Steve’s just humoring him.
“You. Fuck,” Steve groans, picking up the rhythm now, panting through his open mouth. “You're so pretty, baby. Wish I knew. That you were into guys. I want you so bad, you have no idea, the things I’d do to you.”
Eddie moans, squeezing himself through his boxers and immediately letting go as he feels his balls draw dangerously tight.
He’s never been so turned on in his entire life. He feels like he’s about to explode, not just his dick, his whole being. And Steve hasn’t even touched his dick yet, not once. Maybe even just watching the most pornographic scene from his fantasies unfold before his very eyes, and the words Steve keeps saying, could push him over the edge.
“I’d let you, Steve,” he says, all of his eagerness seeping into his voice. “I’d let you do anything. Everything.”
“Jesus, Eddie, oh god.” Steve falls forward, against an elbow by Eddie’s head, and kisses him, bites on his lower lip, still thrusting his dick into the toy. “You’d let me fuck you? Like this?”
In this position, it’s almost too easy to imagine. Like Steve’s fucking him, not some fake hole of a fleshlight between them. Eddie’s cock leaks out more precome just at the idea of it.
“Yes, yes, I would,” Eddie promises, wrapping an arm around Steve’s neck and tugging him down for another kiss. “You’d be my first… I’ve never…”
“I know, I know, I’d be so gentle, baby,” Steve promises, keeps babbling frantically. “Make you feel so good, stretch you out slowly, make you— oh fuck, aaahh,” Steve moans against his cheek, stops talking, just panting on Eddie's skin, as his hips make one final push in and he stills, breathing hard, nuzzling at the side of Eddie's face. “Oh my god, that was…” He laughs. “Fuuuuck, Eddie.”
Steve sits up, red-faced and completely blissed out, sliding his softening cock out of the fleshlight. Eddie can’t help but stare.
“Your turn, baby,” Steve announces, and Eddie yelps as his damp boxers are being dragged down, his cock springing free — bright red, hard as rock, all wet with precome — and Steve doesn’t waste a second before grasping it at the base and sliding it into the toy.
Eddie moans and shuts his eyes, throwing his head back. It’s tight, soft inside, and literally heaven after being so horny and untouched for so long. Steve pumps it over his cock once, twice, and pleasure immediately builds up in Eddie’s belly; he prays he’d last at least a minute… but then realizes that his dick is currently fully covered in Steve’s own come, hears the wet squelching of it as Steve moves the toy, and nope, it’s game over.
It feels like a tsunami crashing into him as he explodes, toes curling and all muscles straining. He’s moaning loudly, not caring about the paper thin walls of the dorm because— honestly, he’s had to suffer listening to everyone else’s sex noises so often they’re just gonna have to suck it up. He’s just had the most insane orgasm of his life, his whole body tingles from it, and he’s so stupidly happy from the dopamine rush that he actually giggles when he opens his eyes.
Steve’s looking down at him, grinning, the fleshlight still in hand. It’s leaking out of the fake silicone hole; an obscene mix of lube and both their fluids. Eddie stares at it, transfixed. Steve looks at it too, intrigued, then back at Eddie, back at the toy, hesitant.
“Ah, fuck it,” he finally mutters, and Eddie’s eyes widen as Steve drags his whole tongue through the wet mess before snapping the lid closed and tossing it aside. Eddie’s spent cock gives a tiny, pathetic twitch at the sight.
“What the fuck, Steve,” he groans, covering his face with his hands.
He feels the weight of the other boy on him as Steve collapses against him, laughing.
“What?” Steve asks provocatively, pulling Eddie’s hands away. “Don’t give me that. I know you’re a freak now. Embrace it, baby.”
Eddie can’t disagree. He chews on his lip for a second, then asks.
“So how do we taste?”
Steve’s grin widens.
“Wanna try?” And without waiting for an answer, he seals his lips against Eddie’s.
Tastes kind of disgusting. Also, fucking amazing. Tastes like knowing that his life just took its wildest turn.
If you enjoyed the fic please consider feeding kudos to the author ^^
Featuring: Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, Romance, Character Study, Post-ST4, Eddie Lives, Injury Recovery, Eddie Uses a Cane, Munsons' Trailer, Porn Magazines, Accidental Outing, Queer Themes, Gay Eddie, Bisexual Steve, Eddie is Steve's Bisexual Awakening, Steve Has a Sexuality Crisis, Sexuality is complex and confusing, Good Friend Robin, Good Uncle Wayne, Attraction, Awkwardness, Flirting, Mutual Crushes, Dialogue Heavy, Steve Wears Eddie's Vest, Minor Past Steve/Tommy, Minor Robin/Vickie, Embarrassment, Misunderstandings, Insecurity, Confessions, Inexperienced Eddie, First Kiss, Boys Kissing, Feelings Realization, Happy Ending, Getting Together, POV Steve Harrington
While helping with packing and moving Eddie's stuff to the Munsons' new trailer, Steve and Robin accidentally come across some of Eddie's very private magazines. They decide to hide them at Robin's place until Eddie comes home, and that should be the end of it.
So Eddie's queer. It's not a big deal, because so is Robin. Except Steve can't stop thinking about it, and about their interactions in the Upside Down, and about how nice it feels whenever Eddie looks or smiles at him.
It might be just the flattery of it all, somebody finally being interested in him after a while, that's getting to him. Or is it? Would he feel the same way about any guy? And what should he even do about it?
Steve goes through a complex week of introspection; thankfully, not without his platonic soulmate by his side always ready to talk. And in the end, it doesn't matter if he still has doubts or unanswered questions. One thing he knows for sure: there's something about Eddie that makes him want to just go for it.
Written for @steddielovemonth day 22 prompt: battle vest
Ten days after Vecna, what remains of the old Munsons’ trailer is finally no longer precariously balanced on the edge of a giant crack in the ground.
It was Steve who paid one of the construction crews that were currently all over Hawkins, dealing with the fallout of the cracks, to pull it off with one of their crane trucks. He was more than happy to handle it. The unexpected upside of his parents deciding to stay away from the wreck that was post-Vecna-earthquake military-infested Hawkins was them dumping a large sum of money into Steve’s account, strictly instructing him over the phone to take care of any repairs necessary so their house would be in an appropriate state by the time they come back.
The Harrington house was actually fully intact. But they didn’t need to know that. So Steve used the money for what he actually wanted to do. Volunteering took up most of his time this week; Family Video technically remained open, but with the ongoing cleanup chaos not that many people were in a mood for movies, so management decided to reduce opening hours and only keep one person per shift in the meantime. Each day of Steve’s began with a trip to the Hawkins High gym turned temporary shelter, packed full of people who lost their homes, picking up a list of items that donations were lacking, then driving to the store and stuffing his car full of diapers and toothpaste and warm socks and instant coffee to bring back.
And retrieving the Munsons’ trailer… It’s the least Steve could do for the guy who went into literal hell with them and barely made it out. Even if what he did was utterly stupid and borderline suicidal. Steve also does it for Wayne Munson, whose unwillingness to leave his nephew’s side the three whole days Eddie was unconscious and fighting for his life was something Steve watched with the same bittersweetness he always felt towards Joyce Byers or Claudia Henderson.
The trailer itself is obviously unsalvageable; it’s a miracle it didn’t snap in two like the goddamn Titanic in the process of being hoisted back onto even ground. But that wasn’t the point. In exchange for Eddie signing his NDA papers, the government people provided Munsons with a shiny new trailer to live in, on the other side of Forest Hills, farther away from the cracks. The murder charges were officially dropped as everything got pinned (somewhat close to truth) on serial killer Henry Creel.
So the point was to be able to safely loot all of the stuff inside the old trailer, things that held more value to Eddie and Wayne than their money’s worth. And despite Wayne Munson’s initial insistence that it was completely unnecessary, that all that mattered was that his nephew was alive and safe from getting arrested, the looks he keeps giving Steve as he starts retrieving various items scattered around the trailer, starting with a box of Eddie’s childhood pictures, are full of immense gratitude.
Wayne keeps stressing that Steve’s already done more than enough, that he can handle all the packing himself, but Steve insists on staying and helping, heading over to Eddie’s room and methodically boxing up the frankly impressive amount of books and magazines and records and hand-painted figurines the guy owns.
After about an hour, Robin bikes over after her own volunteering shift at the soup kitchen and joins him. The packing goes considerably quicker with two sets of hands.
Steve’s doing his best to keep his mind blank, to put items away without really looking at them because it feels undeniably awkward to be going through their new friend’s things. Like they are snooping, even if they’re honestly just helping. It’s obvious that Robin’s feeling the same way, and so they mostly work in silence, besides an occasional request to pass the packing tape or help unstuck a broken drawer.
This unspoken agreement lasts until Steve trips on the edge of the carpet, and the magazines he’s been carrying from the bedside drawer are sent flying, scattered all over the floor. He curses and bends down to pick them up; and then he freezes, realizing that Road & Track was only a single issue on top of that pile, and the rest of it is… very much not car-related.
He looks up at Robin, who’s already turned to see what’s caused the whole commotion, and her eyes look as big as his own must be.
For a long moment, they both stay frozen. What finally gets Steve out of his ear-reddening stupor is the sound of something clattering to the floor from the living room, reminding him of the presence of Eddie’s uncle and the painfully short time it could take him to reach the bedroom and see all this.
Cheeks feeling like they’re on fire, Steve starts frantically putting the stack back together, trying very hard to keep his gaze unfocused because… well, shit. Finding someone’s porn stash is already as awkward as it gets. Finding someone’s porn stash that also accidentally outs them is objectively worse.
At least the kids are not here helping, thank god; Dustin would absolutely be here if it weren’t for his injured foot and Claudia’s insistence on him resting. This is absolutely not the conversation Steve would be looking forward to.
Steve’s agitated heartbeat only slows down when the stack is put back together, the Road & Track issue once again safely on top.
“Uh…” Steve glances at Robin again, who’s now kneeling at his side, her mouth hanging open. He chuckles, because it’s so goddamn ridiculous, for something so mundane to give him an honest-to-god adrenaline rush, after everything.
Steve looks over his shoulder at the door and then back to Robin, keeping his voice low as he speaks. “I’m guessing all of this isn’t about Eddie thinking of a career in naked modeling and looking for inspiration.”
“No shit, dingus.” Robin huffs out a quiet laugh at his joke, and for a moment they both sit on the floor, shaking in silent nervous laughter with their fists pressed against their mouths. Steve’s mind is reeling, mostly around the fact that while the discovery was absolutely mortifying, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
“Shit. Should I, like… pack these or trash them?” Steve glances over his shoulder again and lowers his voice further, down to a whisper. “Like, what if his uncle decides to unbox his stuff and finds these? We don’t know if…”
He trails off, but Robin nods in understanding. If Wayne knows. If he’d be fine with it. If this wouldn’t ruin Eddie’s seemingly great and loving relationship with his uncle.
“I mean…” Robin glances at the door too, worry in her eyes. “He obviously loves Eddie, but with this… You just never know. I still don’t know about my own parents, and they aren’t even religious. And… Steve, you saw him praying by Eddie’s bedside.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees, feeling sadness well up in his chest. He really doesn’t need an explanation on how parents’ love could be conditional.
After a moment’s thinking and chewing on her lip, Robin makes a determined lunge towards her backpack and unzips it.
“Just to be safe,” she says, wrapping the entire stack of zines in a plastic bag before shoving it into the backpack, “I’m gonna hold onto these until Eddie’s discharged.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as he watches her.
“You sure? What if like, your parents accidentally come across them?”
“And what, assume I’m interested in men? The tragedy.” Robin scoffs, grinning as she tugs the zipper back closed. “Steve, I know for a fact my parents own adult tapes. Frankly, it was a rather traumatizing discovery for the twelve-year-old me, and the last time I ever had the urge to snoop for hidden Christmas presents. Anyway, point is, I’m pretty sure they aren’t gonna care if they think their grown-ass daughter looks at pictures of scantily clad guys.”
Steve nods in agreement.
“Right, okay then,” he says, getting up. “We better keep working. I’m still not convinced this roof isn’t gonna cave in at any moment.” With that, he begins shoving piles of Eddie’s clothes into large trashbags. Not to trash them, obviously; they’re just running out of empty boxes.
After a few minutes of working in silence, Steve feels Robin’s gaze on the side of his face and looks up.
“What?”
“Just…” Robin sighs. “I just gotta ask, for Eddie’s sake. You’re not going to be weird about this, right?”
Steve blinks.
“Why, was I weird about… you?”
He realizes immediately he failed to keep his voice casual, the hurt and disbelief seeping into his tone and making Robin rush to his side with a guilty wince.
“Dingus, I didn’t mean it like that. But I’m a girl, and it’s… different.”
And it is, Steve can’t disagree. But he’s not ready to discuss the complicated array of thoughts and feelings about how different it is, not until he’s got them sorted for himself. Why confirming that Eddie’s queer is somehow more significant than when he learned about Robin. So he just shrugs and gets back to packing a myriad of identical black T-shirts, likely adorned with varying band logos but it’s hard to tell when they’re all inside out.
“Nothing’s changed,” Steve says firmly. “If you ever see me give Eddie shit, it would be only for not listening to me and trying to play hero. I’m still mad at him for that.” He tries to keep his tone light and humorous, but it trembles at the few last words.
If they took even a minute longer with Vecna… If the radio broke, if they didn’t hear Dustin’s anguished calls for help and rush over immediately, if they couldn’t stop the massive bleeding, if they didn’t make it to the gate before it closed… If the outside wasn’t already swarming with government people in firefighter disguises, ready to rush a known murder suspect to the hospital, no questions asked. So many close shaves.
Robin snaps him out of it, rubbing his shoulder, giving him a warm, comforting smile before she grabs the first box to carry into Wayne Munson’s truck.
***
Back home that evening, Steve thinks a lot. Not about the magazines, not really; his mind gets more drawn towards slightly earlier memories, of the Upside Down and slightly before that. Not the painful, terrifying ones, but everything in between. Brief conversations, smiles, looks, big boy, now all taking a somewhat clearer shape, like twisting an unfocused kaleidoscope. The vest, thrown in his face, in a moment of what Steve then assumed really was just for his modesty, but now is starting to wonder if there was another issue with him being shirtless there. For Eddie, specifically. How Eddie kept averting his eyes and reached for a cigarette when Steve took off his sweater in the boat, before they all ended up in the Upside Down.
The vest is still on his bathroom floor; Steve’s been meaning to clean it for a while now, but wasn’t sure if it could be just tossed in the washer, with all the hand-sawn patches and pins. So he soaks it in the bathtub, adding a good amount of detergent and letting it sit there for a while, until the water turns almost black, then grabs a brush and starts scrubbing.
He scrubs at the dried blood and dirt and god knows what else, and thinks, and thinks, and thinks.
***
The next morning, Steve and Robin both go to visit Eddie and Max at the hospital.
Max’s sight could thankfully be partially saved, even if it was just on one eye, and she would need glasses to see clearly. She’s in good spirits, more than ready to get the hell out of there, casts and all.
Eddie however is still very weak, unable to stay awake for too long under however many meds he’s on; but when he is awake, he’s relatively lucid, and smiling, and making jokes, even though his words are slightly slurred; and color finally returns to his cheeks after many days of deadly paleness. His wounds are all stitched up, skin grafts applied to a few nastiest ones on his side; the doctor says they’re healing well, he’s gonna have scars, that’s unavoidable, but it looks like eventually he’s gonna be just fine.
They all made it. Against all odds.
Before they leave, Steve reaches to places his hand on top of Eddie’s and squeezes gently, lingering for a moment as he catches the boy’s completely bewildered gaze, fixated on their joined hands. Steve smiles casually, his own heart doing something complicated, pats Eddie’s hand twice, promises to see him again in a few days and retreats, ignoring Robin’s raised eyebrow as he walks past her through the door.
***
A couple of days later, after driving Max back home and ensuring she’s all set (meaning her mom’s actually consistently sober and seems committed to taking care of her daughter; not that Steve trusts her completely, he’ll be checking in regularly), Steve returns to the hospital. It’s way past visiting hours, but he easily bribes his way inside past the duty nurse Judy with a box of her favorite cupcakes and his most charming smile that makes her giggle and blush.
He didn’t know if Eddie would be awake, so he’s glad when he finds the guy’s nose buried in a book, the cover so worn Steve can’t make out the title. Eddie perks up when Steve gently knocks on the doorframe before entering.
“You’re gonna ruin your eyes like that, you know,” Steve comments on the fact that the overhead lights are off, and Eddie’s trying to read in the faint glow of the night light behind his bed.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Mother,” Eddie responds with a good-humored eyeroll and then gives Steve a somewhat nervous smile as he approaches.
The reason for it becomes apparent after a bit of small talk about Eddie’s state of health and Max’s earlier discharge while Eddie devours a cup of chocolate pudding Steve’s smuggled in.
“So my uncle came by this morning,” Eddie says, his face and tone unreadable. “Told me about Operation: Save Munsons’ Shit. How come you didn’t mention this?”
Steve grins, shaking his head.
“This was supposed to be a surprise for when you go home. His idea, mind you. Funny how he cracked first.”
Eddie tilts his head.
“He told me it was your idea.”
“No, I mean, keeping it a surprise. Saving your shit was Dustin’s idea, actually. After we figured the trailer’s too risky to enter, I mean, that thing was one gust of wind away from plummeting into the abyss. He was immediately like, could a crane do the job and move it to a safe spot? Kid’s smart as hell, it was a brilliant idea. I just handled the… execution, so to speak.”
Eddie’s silent for a long moment, spoon uselessly scraping at the bottom of the now empty pudding cup.
“Guess I’ll add this to the list of things I’ll probably never be able to thank you enough for, Steve. Goes right under dragging my near-corpse out of hell.”
“How about you promise never to get torn apart by demobats again, and we’re even?”
Eddie glances up at him briefly, the corners of his lips lifting in a shy smile.
“Okay. Deal.” He pauses. “Seriously though, thanks, Steve. I know it’s just stuff, but… the acoustic, it belonged to my mom, so…”
“Yeah,” Steve nods. “I get it. It’s not just stuff, it’s your life, memories. That’s why I wanted to help.”
“Thanks,” Eddie says again. Then, clearing his throat, “Ahem. Wayne mentioned that you and Birdie helped with the packing?”
Ah.
“Uh… Yeah,” Steve replies, carefully keeping his voice casual. “The rain from a crack in the roof ruined some of your posters, but otherwise, I think we managed to get everything from your room.”
“Everything,” Eddie deadpans, his cheeks filling with color. Steve meets his gaze head on.
“Yeah.”
Eddie fidgets with the empty cup in his hands. He chews on his lip, glances back to Steve, then darts his gaze up to the ceiling, over to the switched off TV, the window, then back to the empty cup. Taps his finger against the side of it.
It’s painfully obvious what he’s not asking about, and Steve can’t handle the awkwardness anymore.
“Okay, look, if this is about the… bedside drawer stuff,” he lowers his voice to say, Eddie’s wide panicked eyes on him confirming his hunch. “It’s fine. Like, seriously. I’m cool with it and Robin’s… Robin’s cool, too.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie mutters, collapsing back against the pillows and staring at the ceiling. “I’m good if those bats feel like coming back to finish the job right now.”
Steve frowns and swats at Eddie’s shoulder, the one he knows for a fact bears no bite marks.
“Hey!”
“Ouch!”
“Don’t even joke about it, what the fuck, man? I told you, it’s fine! Robin’s stashed it all at her place until… well, until you come home.”
“What the fuck,” Eddie shakes his head, voice strangely high, almost hysterical. “Why would she do that?!”
“Uh. ‘Cos you probably wouldn’t be thrilled with your uncle coming across them if he unpacked your stuff, and she’s a girl so it’s a safe option if anyone finds them in her room, so…”
Eddie groans, covers his face with his hands, and starts shaking. It takes a few worrying seconds for Steve to realize that he’s actually laughing, silently at first, then his chuckles growing louder, until he finally shows his red grinning face from behind his palms, wiping at his eyes in the process.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. You,” he points to Steve, “and lady Buckley found a bunch of gay porn in my room, and decided to hide it from my uncle.”
As Steve nods, staring in bewilderment, another series of giggles overtakes Eddie.
“Oh my god. Oh fuck,” he wheezes, grasping at his midsection. “You’re killing me, Harrington, this is so not good for my stitches.” Eddie takes a few deep breaths, exhaling through his mouth, and wipes his eyes again. “Oh, what the fuck, man. Wayne wouldn’t give me shit for those. He knows. Has known since I was sixteen.”
“Oh.” Steve smiles, feeling his fondness for Eddie’s uncle grow even bigger. “That’s good. We just… we couldn’t be sure.”
“So you decided to protect my honor.” Eddie dramatically presses a hand to his chest. “My knights in shining armor. Well, a knight and a lady.” Eddie finally looks up at him, something vulnerable in his eyes despite the joking tone.
Steve holds his gaze, still smiling at him.
“Girls can be knights, too. Don’t be sexist, Eddie,” he says, thinking of how Robin would definitely prefer a suit of armor over a dress.
Eddie barks out another laugh, shaking his head and muttering something about the Munson doctrine under his breath.
“Still, it’s… shit, it’s goddamn nice, what you tried to do,” he says, his voice softening. “Thank you. Even if it’s fucking humiliating, and can we please never ever talk about this again?”
Wordlessly, Steve holds up a pinky. Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes before looping his own around it, and they shake on it, and change the subject.
***
Afterwards, Steve drives to the new Munson trailer and drops off the clean (or mostly clean, some stains now very faint but stubbornly refused to come out fully) battle vest he was planning to give back to Eddie at the hospital. Let there be at least one surprise left for Eddie’s homecoming.
The room is still filled with stacked boxes and bags of clothes in the corner, so it looks like Eddie’s uncle decided to leave it up to Eddie to unpack. Only the bed is ready, neatly made with fresh sheets that will soon undoubtedly be in the same messy tangled state they were in his old bedroom. Steve chuckles at that.
He hangs the vest up on the back of a chair, right across from the room entrance, so it would likely be the first thing Eddie’s eyes fall upon. He smooths out the vest collar, straightens a few crooked pins. He imagines Eddie’s sunshine of a smile when he discovers that his iconic item of clothing was returned to him.
He eats a bowl of pasta Wayne insists on heating up for him, even though he’s already had dinner himself. Then, he goes to check on Max, who is very happy to see him, judging by the number of insults she throws his way within a five-minute inquiry about sticking to her meds and eye exercises.
After that, Steve drives back home, and thinks, and thinks, and thinks about a set of dimples around a smile that belongs to no girl.
***
Steve and Robin are alone in a locker room turned into storage, sorting through boxes of donations when he broaches the subject.
“Hey, you know when we, um. When we were dealing with the whole Vecna issue, uh… I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure Eddie was flirting with me.”
Robin gives him an unreadable look, finished folding a sweater, puts it in a box marked “L” for size.
“I’ve been wondering if you were gonna bring that up.”
“So I’m right? You noticed too?” Steve perks up. “Is that why you asked if I’d be weird about Eddie?”
“Look,” she sighs, “I didn’t think you’d be… a jerk about it, or anything. I know you wouldn’t. I just know what it’s like, being in this situation. Crushes on straight people, and all that.”
Steve bites on a grin.
“You think Eddie’s got a crush on me?”
“Aha, and there it is!” Robin circles a finger in front of him. “That smug face, right there. You are going to be weird about this!”
“I won’t, I’m not! I’m just… I’ve been thinking about it.”
They are both silent for a moment, just working. Steve’s the first one to lose patience.
“Jesus, Robbie, I can hear cogs turning in your head.”
“I think—” She cuts herself off, pauses, clearly making an effort to compose herself. “I think I should let you talk. I’ll just ask questions. You said you’ve been thinking about it, why?”
“Because… I don’t know.” He hesitates. “Maybe because it’s nice to have someone finally interested in me? Did you never get that? Like, guys must have had crushes on you in school, right? You’re pretty.”
Robin chuckles and rolls her eyes, but her smile at the compliment stays.
“Tim Hammond. Eighth grade. Got me flowers for Valentine’s day.”
“And it wasn’t… flattering?”
“No, dingus, it was painfully awkward. I actually considered going out with him, you know, just for appearances. Decided against it, thank god.”
“Oh.”
“And then there was you. I’m glad it worked out, that we’re friends, but… It sucked even worse, with you.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Steve thinks about how much better of a person Robin is than he ever was. How many girls’ advances he turned down over the years, just because he didn’t find them attractive. Based on looks only, never bothering to even try and get to know the person behind the face. No, he was never cruel about it; thank the small mercies, at least he was always a gentleman with girls. But afterwards, he never looked back, never dwelled on it. Maybe because he’d never experienced rejection himself, not until Nancy dumped him. God, he was such a shallow person.
“So… completely hypothetical scenario. A guy asks you out. What do you do?” Robin asks, as if reading his mind.
“Just any guy?” Steve clarifies. “Or, um.”
“Eddie?”
Steve chews on his lip. He’s picturing it, how Eddie would probably be all shy and nervous about it, and yet bold and daring at the same time. How he’d blush and get all up in Steve’s space, lean towards him with that flirty smile, dimples and all, brush the hair out of Steve’s eyes. ‘Would you like to go out with me, big boy?’
“Look, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Robin says, misinterpreting his stunned silence, “I wouldn’t. It’s very unlikely. Maybe he’ll flirt with you, at most, but if it’s not weird for you and you find it… flattering, then… it’s not an issue, right? I don’t think he’ll even go that far. I think it was just the Upside Down, the adrenaline, near-death situation, makes one a bit reckless. You know? Either way, I know you’ll turn him down gently, it will be fine, Steve. Crushes fade, right? You and I are friends. You and Eddie will be, too.”
Steve feels all kinds of things about the idea, none of them good. He imagines stepping back with a guilty smile, Eddie’s face falling as Steve says ‘Sorry, I can’t, because—’
Because. Because why, exactly? Right, because Eddie’s not a girl. Is that important? It’s supposed to be important.
Or not?
“Dingus.” Robin reaches for his arm, squeezes. “You’re awfully quiet.” She taps her finger on his forehead. “What’s going on up there?”
“What if I don’t,” Steve finds himself muttering. Upon Robin’s questioning look, he clears his throat and repeats, louder. “What if I don’t. Turn him down, I mean. Hypothetically. What if… what if I go on a date with him. Is that selfish?”
Robin’s watching him with her piercing, attentive eyes.
“Huh. Okaaay…” She chews on her lip. “Why do you think it’s selfish?”
“Because… Because I don’t know if… If I like the guy, or just, I don’t know… the idea of it. Eddie liking me. The attention. ‘Cause if that’s what it is… I’d be an ass to give him false hope. Like, if I’m just flattered that someone’s interested in me, and I didn’t even need to dress up and get them flowers. He saw me at my lowest, Robs, covered in grime and blood, my hair a complete disaster, and… and looked at me like I was the coolest guy he’d ever seen, and told me I was metal.”
He hears Robin take a deep breath, then slowly exhale it with a low whistle.
“Well. First, I would argue about you being at your lowest. I’m sure Eddie would, too. I don’t know him very well, but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d care about someone’s clothes or hair looking perfect. Or flowers, for that matter. He likes all that fantasy stuff about brave heroes on epic adventures, and Steve, you were literally killing monsters with your bare hands. I can see why he was impressed. Plus,” she nudges him playfully, grinning, “I suppose taking off your shirt wasn’t an insignificant factor.”
Steve flushes, remembering the intense look Eddie gave him before throwing his own vest at him. For modesty. Right.
“Second,” Robin’s voice turns gentler and more serious, too. “Just the fact that you’re seriously thinking this through makes you anything but selfish. Can I ask you something? No pressure, you don’t need to answer.”
“Sure,” Steve nods. He doesn’t see what she could ask that he wouldn’t want to answer. Unless she implies he might not know the answer himself.
There’s a sudden sound of footsteps just outside, and Robin waits a minute for them to recede. They’re still alone, but she lowers her voice anyway.
“Is this the first time you’ve thought about this? Dating another guy.”
That one’s easy.
“Yes. I mean… Never really been faced with the option. If there were queer guys at school that I talked to, I wouldn’t know.”
“What about… kissing a guy?”
That one takes Steve a minute to answer. Immediately, he thinks about Eddie’s lips. They look so soft; it would probably feel nice to kiss them. He feels butterflies in his stomach at the idea. Is it really just because he’s been striking out with girls lately? Because he misses kissing, misses dating someone? Is he really that desperate?
There has been a time when he faced a similar predicament. He was much younger, hadn’t ever dated a girl, hadn’t even had his first kiss, and neither had Tommy. When they were hanging out one summer night, drunk after trying beer for the first time in their lives. Steve glanced over and wondered, out loud, what it would be like to kiss someone. He caught Tommy looking, too, curious if his best friend had something similar on his mind as Steve; but Tommy made some silly joke about trying with a peach, they laughed, and then never acknowledged it, never spoke of it again.
In that moment, he remembers very clearly, he wouldn’t have minded satisfying his curiosity by having Tommy’s lips on his. But high school soon began, Tommy was now kissing Carol, and Steve himself finally kissed pretty blonde Martha Jameson under the bleachers, kicking off his playboy career.
Kissing girls was wonderful. Amazing. Their mouths were soft and they smelled like flowery perfume and sighed oh so sweetly when he moved his lips just right. And if sometimes, he wondered whether kissing boys was any different… well. It was nothing, he thought back then.
“I mean, I guess,” Steve finally responds. “I just thought… Maybe I was just curious. Everybody wonders about weird stuff sometimes, right? Like I wondered what it feels like to walk on the Moon, too, doesn’t make me an astronaut.”
Robin thinks about his answer, and Steve can see that she’s choosing her words carefully.
“True. I’m not saying it’s impossible, it’s just that… That wasn’t my experience. Being curious about boys.”
“But it’s not like I ever liked a guy. Never had a crush on one. And I had so many crushes on girls. If I… If I was a little queer, shouldn’t that have happened by now, at least once? Statistically?”
“I don’t think statistics have anything to do with… how we feel.” Robin pauses, fiddling with a T-shirt in her hands. “I’m thinking of auntie Helen, my mom’s sister. Didn’t date in high school or even college. She says she never knew what it’s like to be in love until she met her husband. She was almost 30 then, doing her microbiology PhD. Grandma always jokes about how she had her eyes glued to a microscope, no wonder she never saw the guys around her, but I don’t know. Maybe she was too focused on studying, or maybe it really was that there was just one special person in the whole world that caught her attention. It’s kind of romantic.”
Steve smiles, agreeing with her.
“So… you’re saying my eyes were just glued to girls?”
“It was just an example. I’m saying you don’t need to stress about having all the answers immediately, or finding a label that fits. Eddie’s coming home tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah,” Steve says with a smile.
Everyone’s excited for it. The kids have been planning a surprise party. Dustin spent all his pocket money on a whole mountain of Eddie’s favorite snacks. Will has been working on a D&D thing, something they call a one-shot. Mike and Lucas dug into Eddie’s tapes to make a mixtape for the party.
Max can’t do much with her arm and leg still in casts, but she’s been doing a great job at bossing everyone around while they were decorating the living room with a giant ‘Welcome home Eddie’ banner and dozens of red balloons (Steve was somewhat surprised Eddie’s favorite color is not, in fact, black).
Wayne got him the most practical gift, a black cane that Eddie might need for a while to move around; the bats damaged a muscle in his thigh pretty badly. El’s been decorating it, meticulously painting little white skulls all over it. (It’s going to look bitchin’, she assured everyone. Eddie’s definitely going to love it.)
“Well, now that he’ll be home,” Robin says, interrupting his thoughts, “you can spend more time with him. Get to know him. Figure out what you feel. Test the waters, flirt a little. Just be prepared he might freak out when you do.”
Steve grins at her teasingly. “What, like you with Vickie?”
Robin groans. “I knew you were gonna bring it up. I don’t know if she’s flirting or just being nice!”
“She’s flirting! It’s so obvious! And also probably freaking out. I swear, you two are gonna grow old before one of you makes a move.”
“Hopefully not. But I need to be sure.”
Steve doesn’t press further. He is almost sure, in the way the girl looks at Robin, but he’s also pretty biased, wanting his best friend to be happy. So he just nods, grabbing another sweater from the box and checking the size label.
“We should really get moving, or we’ll be here all day. There’s like ten more boxes.”
He knows Robin understands everything he doesn’t say; he’s grateful they talked, he’s got a lot on his mind, he needs some quiet to think. They keep working for another hour, wordless, only exchanging occasional glances and smiles.
***
The trailer, packed full of people like sardines, explodes into chaos the moment Eddie limps through the door in dark gray sweatpants and a dark hoodie, with his uncle grinning behind him. Judging by the look on Eddie’s face, Wayne was successful at keeping the party secret from him until he brought him from the hospital.
Hugs are exchanged, some tears are shed. Eddie looks absolutely thrilled to see everyone welcome him home, even more so when he’s introduced to Will and shown the dining table covered in papers, dice and figurines. Will actually looks nervous when he asks Eddie if he wouldn’t mind playing his campaign later today, to which Eddie bows down, holding onto a chair for support, and says, “It would be my absolute honor, o Will the Wise.” The boy blushes and beams at Eddie, and just like that, the Eddie Munson fanclub has acquired its newest member.
Two members, actually, because when El and Wayne present him with the skull-painted cane, Eddie (predictably) loves it so much he showers El with compliments on her work and then asks her if she’d like to paint miniatures together sometime. She excitedly agrees.
Steve’s not surprised in the least. Now that he’s become acquainted with Eddie’s very likable personality, he sees why Dustin was so obsessed with him. It’s so strange, how until recently Steve barely acknowledged the guy’s existence despite them spending hours within the same building for years.
They don’t really get a chance to chat one on one; Eddie’s pretty much surrounded by other people at all times. But Steve doesn’t mind, there will be time for that. He does, however, speak up when Mike, the ever tactful one, decides to comment on Eddie’s facial hair, which has been consistently growing throughout his hospital stay.
“You look so weird with a beard, like ten years older,” Mike says.
“Ouch,” Eddie deadpans. “Thanks, Wheeler, glad to know I look thirty now.” He rubs at his cheek. “Yeah, I gotta take care of this later, my room had a shower but I didn’t think to ask Wayne to bring a razor. I don’t know if they’re even allowed in, to be honest.”
“Don’t listen to Mike,” Steve intervenes, and Eddie’s eyes immediately snap to him. “He’s just pissed he’s fifteen and that upper lip is still smooth as a baby’s.”
Mike glares at him, everyone giggles and then starts arguing about whether facial hair is cool or not. Taking advantage of the chaos, Steve steps a little closer to Eddie.
“I think you’re totally pulling off the rugged look,” he says with a smile; he wasn’t even planning on flirting, but it comes naturally. To weaponize his gaze, to slowly drag it up from Eddie’s chin and back up to his eyes, widened in surprise. “It suits you,” he adds.
Eddie looks like he doesn’t know what to do with his face. His eyebrows twitch in a silent question. He opens his mouth, closes it, then glances away, biting on his lip just as the corners of it start lifting. It’s the first time Steve has seen Eddie properly flustered. In that moment, he realizes he definitely wants to see more of it.
“Totally! I think it’s metal,” Dustin, who apparently heard Steve but completely missed the context, immediately agrees, and Eddie’s gaze turns to him; but the pink hue to his cheeks remains.
“Well, uh, thanks. But I’m sick of my face itching like hell.” He scratches at his chin for emphasis.
To be honest, Steve doesn’t care one way or the other. But he does wonder what kissing someone with a beard feels like. Is it nice? Would it be scratchy? Women do it all the time, so it must not be so bad. Is Eddie going to shave before Steve gets to try?
He excuses himself to go grab a drink; his throat suddenly feels parched. He realizes he’s actually been thinking of kissing Eddie. Not just thinking, but planning on doing it. Imagining how it would feel. Popping a can open, Steve takes a long sip, hoping it will conceal his sheepish smile.
Robin’s across the room from him, talking to Nancy. When he meets her eyes, she lifts an eyebrow at him. Steve gives her a shrug, deciding they better talk later. For now, he’s much too interested in watching Eddie from afar, chatting excitedly with the kids as they set up for their nerdy game.
Nancy and Robin soon leave, but Steve decides to stick around; someone needs to drive those kids home, after all. It’s a perfectly valid excuse.
***
Later that night, when all the little gremlins are safe back in their homes, Steve drives back to Eddie’s. Without a single excuse now, just because he wants to. He’s kind of dying to know whether Eddie found the gift left for him in his new bedroom.
When Eddie opens the door, Steve immediately knows that he did. There’s a shy, surprised smile on his face as he motions for Steve to follow him to his room and hobbles towards his bed with his new cane, sits down.
The vest still hangs on the back of the chair where Steve left it.
“Thought it was gone, honestly,” Eddie says, eyes looking over it fondly. He glances up at Steve. “You didn’t have to, like, clean it and everything, I could have done it myself.”
“I wanted to,” Steve says, sitting on the chair sideways and resting an arm over the back of it, over the vest. “Least I could do, for you letting me borrow it. Or should I say…” He grins. “Practically forcing me to wear it. Thank you for protecting my modesty.”
Eddie blushes and glances down at his hands, plays with his rings. Cute.
“Maybe you should keep it, it looked good on you,” Eddie says with a hesitant glance at him, immediately turns away again, as if regretting his words.
Holy shit, Eddie is flirting. Steve feels nervous jitters at that, but sees no reason not to flirt back. He wants to. He really, really wants to see how Eddie reacts. Maybe he is selfish in his own curiosity.
“Is this some sort of metalhead equivalent of a varsity jacket?” Steve teases, and Eddie’s wide eyes bore into him. He opens his mouth wordlessly, snaps it closed, his cheeks distinctly pink.
After a moment of hesitation, Steve reaches for the vest, takes it off of the chair and shoves his arms through the sleeve openings, putting it on over his own bright red sweater. He stands up and looks at himself in the mirror, fixing the collar, then turns to Eddie, still stunned and speechless, with a grin.
“So? Do I look metal?”
Eddie gulps, eyes dragging over Steve’s form, and Steve feels goosebumps all over his body at the attention. He wonders what Eddie’s gaze would feel like on him if he wasn’t wearing clothes. Holy shit, where did that thought come from?
“I guess,” Eddie finally speaks, his smile growing, “you could pass, until someone asks you to name at least one song from these bands.”
Steve’s eyes dart across the pins and patches on his chest, and he quickly points to the Metallica logo.
“Hey, Master of Puppets, right? The one you played to distract the bats.”
Eddie laughs, nodding.
“I guess you’re just gonna have to educate me on the other ones someday,” Steve shrugs.
“I wouldn’t expect you to… enjoy my kinda music, Steve,” Eddie says, fidgeting nervously.
“Why not? I liked the song you played. I don’t know the rest of it, so I can’t tell if I’m gonna love it or hate it until I do.”
“Okay. Sure,” Eddie laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “Guess we’ll work on your music education, Harrington.”
Steve grins, shoving his hands in the vest pockets. They are pretty big, comfy.
“I should go,” he says, nodding his head towards the door. “Let you rest.”
“You’re still wearing my vest,” Eddie points out, visibly flustered.
“Oh, I know,” Steve says, already stepping towards the door. “Don’t worry, I’m not actually keeping it. Just borrowing it for a bit. You did say it looks good on me, right?” He winks at Eddie, leaving him speechless again, and hurries out of the room before he can second-guess himself.
He exchanges a few more pleasantries with Wayne, who lifts his eyebrows at Steve’s outfit but says nothing; after saying goodbye to him, Steve drives back home, Eddie’s vest feeling way warmer on his back than it should.
***
A few days later, Steve has dinner at Robin’s house with her mom, who as usual fawns over her daughter’s handsome boyfriend, such a polite young man; they’ve long stopped trying to insist on being just friends.
It’s definitely not helping that Robin keeps staring at him the entire dinner. Not exactly him, but the vest he’s still wearing, just over a different sweater this time.
“Have you thought about maybe testing the waters with your parents?” Steve asks her when they go upstairs to her room after dinner. “Not about yourself, just… maybe casually mention ‘a girl you know’? Just to see how they feel about it.”
Robin shakes her head at him, and Steve immediately raises his hands in surrender.
“No pressure, Robs. I’ve just been thinking, how Eddie’s uncle is cool with him. And your parents are way more chill than most. They never even tell you to keep your door open when I come over.”
“Yes, because you’re a guy. And they met at a hippie festival they both hitchhiked to without their parents’ permission at 17 years old.”
“Aren’t hippies supposed to be like, all about peace and love?”
“Former hippies. And… Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe next year, when I’m in college. I just… don’t want to risk it, not when I still live under their roof, you know?”
Steve nods, dropping the subject; he flops down and stretches out on her bed.
“Now, are we gonna talk about… the denim elephant in the room?” Robin asks with her eyebrows raised, gesturing with a finger to his outfit as she sits down next to him.
Steve chews on his lip, no idea where to even begin. So he starts with the obvious.
“Eddie said it looked good on me. We, uh… we kinda flirted a bit. I came back after the party.”
“Okaaay,” Robin says slowly, her face unreadable.
“I keep thinking about him,” Steve admits. “Like… There’s something about him. He’s just so… captivating. He’s weird, but in a good way. He’s funny. And kinda pretty, right? For a guy.”
Robin gives him a pointed look, a perplexed smile on her face.
“You’re asking me?”
“Yeah yeah, I get it, lesbian, but objectively, right? He’s got these… big, soulful eyes.”
“Yes. Like a perpetually terrified baby cow. Okay, I’ll agree on that, that’s kinda cute. You and him are similar that way, you both excel at that sad kicked puppy look.”
Steve rolls his eyes and gently elbows her.
“I like the happy look on him better. He’s got a nice smile. And his laugh is like, super infectious.” Steve bites on his own smile. “I… shit. I just… I like it when he smiles.” At me, he thinks. “I like when he smiles at me,” he repeats aloud, but in a quiet whisper. "And, um. I've been thinking about kissing him."
“Oh my god, Steve. So, to recap,” Robin says, fully grinning now and counting off on her fingers, “You think he’s pretty and funny, you like his eyes and his smile, you wanna kiss him! And you’re literally wearing his vest now. And you’re seriously still worried this is just about feeling flattered?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve chuckles, feeling his cheeks warm up. “It does sound pretty dumb.”
Before he can take another breath, he’s being squished in a tight hug; he grins, hugging Robin back and resting his chin on her head.
“Not dumb,” she says, muffled against his sweater. She pulls back, still holding him by the shoulders. “It’s not dumb at all. Do you know how many times I’ve looked at a girl, thought about how cool and pretty she was, and assumed it’s because I wanted to be like her, or just, I don’t know, impressed by her style? It’s a lot, I know.”
They sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, as Steve tries to sort through everything running through his mind.
“I just keep wondering. Is it… guys? Or just Eddie?” He fiddles with one of the pins on the vest. His gaze suddenly falls on Robin’s backpack. “Hey, uh… You still have those magazines, right?”
They didn’t get a chance to take them back to Eddie’s place yet.
“Obviously, whyyy?” Robin asks in a cautious tone, stretching out the syllable.
“Nevermind…” Steve shakes his head, blushing. “Dumb idea.”
“Maybe not.” Robin chews on her lip. “Like, if it helps you figure some stuff out…” She reaches under her mattress, takes out the bag with magazines inside it and drops it down in Steve’s lap. “Uh, soooo… I guess I’m gonna go take a very, very long shower?”
Steve groans, blushing.
“Jesus Christ, Robs, I’m not jerking off in your fucking bedroom, obviously! I just… I wanna have a look.”
He takes one of the mags out of the bag, a Playgirl issue from 1984, pushes aside the rest and opens it, starts flipping through the pages.
“Oh-kay, guess we’re pretending this isn’t weird at all,” Robin deadpans, still beside him and looking over his shoulder. “Ew,” she winces at one of the more lewd photos Steve turns a page to.
“Why are you even looking?” Steve snorts. “Just turn away!”
“Morbid curiosity,” Robin replies, not moving an inch.
It’s just guys. The same bodies he’s seen countless times in locker rooms and showers. The same kind he sees in the bathroom mirror every morning. Steve voices his thoughts out loud, confused by his own indifference.
“I… don’t know what to tell you, dingus,” Robin replies with a slight flush to her cheeks, “personally? Can’t relate. Regarding girls’ locker rooms, of course.”
Steve flips another page. Another picture of a guy that looks like he never leaves the gym, all perfect muscles and glistening skin without a single blemish. Probably covered with makeup, or retouched after developing. He’s heard about special paints that can be applied to photos, that professionals use them to remove skin imperfections.
Eddie’s body wouldn’t look anything like that. Steve hasn’t seen his wounds healing, hasn’t actually seen them since Nancy and him ripped Eddie’s shirt open to apply makeshift bandages while Robin tried to console a weeping and screaming Dustin and promised him, knowing she could be lying, that everything would be alright. But Steve knows how many there were, and what the scabbed over bite on his own stomach looks like. Multiply that by a dozen.
Would it look ugly? Steve doesn’t think so. It would look real. Like a real person with one hell of a story, lucky to be alive. Steve feels happy that Eddie’s alive. He feels giddy and a little lightheaded when Eddie smiles at him, his big brown eyes always so animated.
He feels nothing about a bunch of naked guys printed on these pages. Their eyes are static, emotionless. It’s just paint on a piece of paper.
“I don’t think this is helping,” Steve says with a resigned sigh, tossing the magazine aside.
To be fair, he didn’t know why it would. He always felt the same about regular, masculine Playboy mags. Of course, back when he’d just hit puberty, they were… exciting. Like looking at something forbidden.
But ever since Steve lost his virginity, they were never the same. They weren’t nowhere near as exciting as being with a real girl, touching her warm skin, making her feel good. And if he was alone, he preferred memories of that over fake imagery on glossy pages.
Perhaps something’s wrong with his brain, considering how every other guy he knows seems to have no problem jerking off to the skin mags, or perhaps his imagination just isn’t that good to bring the images to life. Steve stopped worrying about it when he started dating girls, so… why is this an issue again, when it comes to a guy? Maybe it shouldn’t be.
“You know what?” He finally says, turning to Robin. “I’m totally overthinking this, aren’t I? I don’t wanna think about hypothetical guys, what’s the point? Eddie’s actually real, he’s cute and funny and clearly interested in me. He flirts with me and it feels nice. If this was a girl, that would be all I needed to ask her on a date and see where it could lead.” Steve shrugs.
Robin smiles at him warmly, hugging his shoulders and squeezing.
“Then tell Eddie that. Honestly, Steve, I’d be thrilled if a girl I liked told me she’d want to ‘see where it could lead’. I’d be bummed of course if she changed her mind, but isn’t it the same with girls dating guys? A date might not work out, people get other crushes and break up, all kinds of things happen. It’s still better to… have experienced it, a bit of romance. Right?”
“Are we still talking about me, or are hyping yourself up to finally talk to Vickie?” Steve smirks at her teasingly.
“Ugh,” she shoves at him playfully, grinning. “I hate you. You might be right there, though. Pot, kettle. Let’s both give it a try?”
Steve sighs and nods, standing up.
“Okay. I’m gonna go see him tomorrow. Any advice?”
Robin thinks about it.
“Just be direct, I guess. Like, putting myself in his shoes? He’s gonna second-guess every innuendo, however obvious it may seem to you. Even the flirting, he probably thinks you’re just doing it for fun. Definitely don’t wait for him to make the first move, you’ll be old and wrinkly before that happens.”
Steve resists commenting on how this is exactly what Robin and Vickie are both doing.
***
Eddie’s shaved; it’s the first thing Steve notices when he comes over (two days after that fateful conversation in Robin’s room; sue him, he needed a bit more time) and the metalhead opens the door. Steve tries not to let his disappointment show on his face. Okay, maybe he was kinda looking forward to knowing what kissing a bearded guy feels like; but Eddie looks just as good without it, definitely younger though, and his lips look so big and soft when they’re not hidden by facial hair; Steve realizes he’s staring at Eddie’s lips, and quickly darts his gaze back to his eyes.
Those, in fact, look like they’re about to pop out of their sockets.
“What?” Steve asks, stepping into the trailer; Wayne doesn’t seem to be around, probably getting groceries or running some other errands. He drops the backpack he brought from Robin’s place on the couch and then sets a pizza box on the coffee table. “I brought pizza. You like pepperoni, right?”
“Uh. Yeah, sure.” Eddie keeps staring at him, now in a light gray sweater, the vest still on top of it. “Did you… For fuck’s sake, Steve, you’ve been walking around like this? In public?”
“Um. Yeah, why?”
Eddie groans, dropping down to the couch and hiding his face in his hands, his hair falling forward like a curtain. Steve’s heart skips a beat.
“Shit, Eddie, did I do something wrong?”
Eddie groans again, shaking his head. When he looks up, Steve’s surprised to find his face absolutely flaming.
“Steve,” he says, clearly struggling to keep his voice even. “Do you seriously not realize how this looks? I’ve been wearing it for years. Everyone knows it’s mine.”
“Oh,” Steve says quietly, his heart sinking. “Are you… embarrassed that people saw it on me?”
“Oh my god, you gotta be kidding me.” Eddie sighs, frustrated. “No. Jesus. I’m worried what people thought of you, wearing it.”
Steve frowns. Now that he thinks about it, he did get some puzzled looks. He just thought they were surprised because it’s so strikingly different from his usual wardrobe.
“Well, I’m not,” Steve says, shrugging. He sits down next to Eddie, Robin’s backpack between them. “Oh, by the way, brought your… stuff. You know. That we’re never talking about again?” He pats the backpack.
Eddie stares at it, not moving to touch it, his face going through a complex series of emotions. Finally, he looks at Steve again.
“Are you messing with me or something?”
“What? No?” Steve’s so confused. It seems like everything he says just keeps making the situation worse.
Eddie lets out another half-sigh half-groan, falling back against the cushions and looking up at the ceiling.
“Steve, I’m like, not trying to suggest you’re being an asshole, but I’m kind of going insane here. You’ve been acting different since… well, that,” he gestures to the backpack. “So I gotta ask. Are you messing with me?”
Steve knows he needs to tread lightly here; Robin was right, Eddie’s definitely second-guessing everything, Steve just didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it.
“No, I’m not messing with you,” he says softly, shaking his head. “But… you’re not wrong, about me acting different. I just… I know we agreed not to talk about it, ‘cos you’re embarrassed, but— like, there’s nothing wrong with it. Liking guys. And I just— I’ve been thinking about it. About you.”
Eddie inhales sharply, perking up. His eyes dart across Steve’s face, and then he winces, looking down at his hands.
“Look, Harrington. If you’re like, curious or something, I get it. You don’t have to, I don’t know, dance around it, humor me with the vest and everything, I can just blow you if you want.”
“What?!” Steve’s jaw falls open. He feels hot all over; but for all the wrong reasons, because the way Eddie says it is just… heartbreaking. Like that’s all Eddie’s ever expected from him.
“Eddie. No, what the hell, that’s not what this is about.”
“Oh.” Eddie looks absolutely mortified. “Okay. Excuse me, I’m gonna go set myself on fire now.”
Steve’s not exactly happy that Eddie’s injuries don’t let him move too fast, but right now it’s a blessing, allowing him to grab Eddie’s hand and stop him before he manages to awkwardly scramble off of the couch.
“Eddie, wait.” Eddie tries to wrangle his hand out of his grasp, but Steve stubbornly holds on. He places his other hand on top, thumb moving back and forth across Eddie’s skin, and that finally gets Eddie to still. He stares at his own hand between Steve’s, completely shocked.
Steve’s not getting another chance. Be direct.
“I think— no, I know. I like you. I’ve never liked a guy this way before, so I’m sorry if I’m acting weird, it’s been a… complicated week for me.”
Eddie’s still staring at him owlishly, wordless, but he quietly gasps at the admission. Steve just decides to keep talking, to get it all out, right now.
“And, uh… thank you, for the offer, but that’s not what I’m looking for. Not something quick and meaningless. I am curious, but not just about… It’s more about you, as a person, okay? You’re smart and funny, and you’re really pretty, and I like flirting with you, and, uh… Do you wanna go out sometime? With me? Or like, not out exactly, I know you’re still recovering, but… I could rent some movies? Or we could listen to your music, if you’re still up for educating me. We could drive over to my place, for some privacy, and I’ll make dinner? I just wanna get to know you and see where this leads. You know?”
Steve takes a deep breath after that whole rambling speech, heart thumping in his chest, butterflies swarming inside his belly. Eddie’s still clearly stunned, but now, his expression starts shifting from complete disbelief to something bright and hopeful, his eyes lighting up and the corners of his lips slowly lifting.
“Holy shit, you mean that?” He finally asks, amazed, forehead wrinkled with how high up his eyebrows went.
Steve smiles at him.
“Yeah. If… if you don’t mind taking it slow, ‘cos I’m a little bit out of my depth here.”
“Shit,” Eddie groans, pulling his hand away from Steve and running them both through his hair, making an even fluffier mess of it than it usually is. “Oh my god, you— and I just blurted out— fuuuuck, I might actually set myself on fire.”
“Please don’t,” Steve laughs, reaching for him again, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Not exactly on purpose, Steve,” Eddie giggles hysterically, his face red, “ever heard of spontaneous combustion?”
They both laugh for a good minute, slumped against each other on the couch.
“I, um,” Eddie speaks up first when their giggles have finally subsided, shy and hesitant. “I’m definitely out of my depth here, too. Even the flirting, you— you completely blindsided me. I’m not used to anyone flirting back.”
Steve nods, taking Eddie’s hand again, twirling the rings around his fingers like Eddie usually does himself when he’s obviously nervous. He wonders briefly what the hell that blowjob offer even was, if Eddie’s never done anything besides flirting. Or maybe he meant in a romantic sense? Does he just usually have… meaningless sex with guys? It makes Steve a bit sad, to think about it; not that anything’s wrong with that, but… Eddie deserves more.
He decides not to ask; it doesn’t really matter anyway, for now, because Eddie’s absolutely melting against him from his fingers being played with.
“And you’re wearing my vest,” Eddie continues quietly after a brief silence, glancing at it. “Like… what the fuck.”
“I mean… Looks good on me, right?” Steve teases, grinning.
“I’m serious, Steve, be careful. It’s not even about— like, yeah, friends can wear each other’s stuff too, but then it’s not just any other guy’s vest, it’s mine. You know what people think about me in this town. Even with the charges dropped.”
“People are idiots. They just don’t know you. But if you’re worried…” Steve shrugs the vest off, draping it over the back of the couch, then takes Eddie’s hand again. “It’s yours anyway, I was gonna give it back.”
“I can make you your own one,” Eddie blurts out, immediately gets flustered again and fidgets, fingers moving in Steve’s grasp. “Um. Like, decorate it with the stuff you like. Doesn’t have to be bands, can be whatever. Basketball teams or whatever you’re into.”
Steve turns his head and moves without thinking, only one thing on his mind. Eddie gasps against the fist touch of his lips, perfectly still for a second; and then he exhales shakily in Steve’s mouth and moves his lips too, slow and uncertain, but definitely keen on kissing him back, and that’s all that matters.
Steve brushes a hand over Eddie’s cheek, slides his fingers into his hair, tilts his head, and the kiss gets even better at an angle, lips slotting perfectly together and tongues tentatively brushing each other. Eddie keeps humming little noises that are making it increasingly difficult to keep the kiss relatively chaste; suddenly, Steve just wants to devour him, pull him into his lap and draw more of these wonderful sounds out of him. He has to keep reminding himself to keep it slow.
It’s attraction, pure and simple. Same way he always felt kissing a girl he liked; and despite the long hair, he’s very much aware Eddie’s not a girl. The big hand with calloused fingers on his own cheek, the flat chest rapidly moving under the palm Steve places on it, the faint scratchiness of the barely-there stubble above the upper lip.
By the time they part for air, Steve’s heart is bursting at the seams. He’s sure now, more than at any point before, that he’s completely enamored with the guy now panting in his face with an awestruck smile. It’s absolutely not about the flattery. It’s completely unselfish, the way he can’t wait to romance Eddie, to keep making him smile and laugh and blush.
And sure, maybe the way Eddie’s looking at him like he’s a giant chocolate cake is part of it, but not all.
“You don’t have to make me anything, but if you want to, I’d love it,” he says.
“Huh?” Eddie seems to have forgotten the entire conversation thread from before the kiss; Steve chuckles.
“My own vest.”
Steve’s still not entirely sure if this is some sort of varsity jacket equivalent to Eddie, but something in the way Eddie’s cheeks turn even redder makes him think he had the right idea. He’s definitely going to wear it.
If you enjoyed the fic please consider feeding kudos to the author ^^
written for day 13 of @steddielovemonth (i'm sooo late with this one, sorry) and this month's @steddiesongfics challenge
SLM prompt: basement, song inspo: Keep Your Love Locked by Paul Petersen (1962) | wc: 4.372 | rated: E | tags: Vampire Eddie Munson, Sexual Content, Blood Drinking, Keeping Secrets, Feelings Realisation, Love Confession | complete fic on ao3
The door is locked.
Steve knows it is, because he locked it himself, but checks a third time just to be sure, before he pockets the key.
He feels bad for doing this, feels cruel for leaving him down there, alone in the basement.
But it’s necessary.
Not because he doesn't trust Eddie, but because he is scared someone else might find him if he wanders around the house while Steve’s not here with him.
A postman, a nosy neighbour, or worse, the police - anyone is a potential threat. Steve won’t be gone for too long but it’s better to be safe than sorry. If someone finds Eddie, they’ll take him away. Will take him to a lab, or a prison, or maybe worse, they’ll kill him out of fear of the creature he represents.
And Steve isn’t going to take that risk.
Any stranger wouldn’t know that Eddie isn’t dangerous, not if he doesn’t need to be. That his looks are deceiving because behind the monstrous visage, is a kind soul that wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Well. That’s not entirely true.
But when he does, it’s only means to an end. Something he has to do to stay alive. It’s not his choice, it’s a need he can’t ignore, a hunger he can’t suppress, a now natural instinct that came as an additional feature with his new form of existence.
When he hurts Steve, it’s never out of malice. He never attacks him, never just takes without asking for permission first, never forces Steve to do anything he doesn’t want. Eddie would never abuse his trust and his willingness to offer himself as a donor, would never take more than he needs. Is always so careful that it drives Steve mad sometimes.
Truth is, out of the two, Steve is probably the bigger liability. Because he’s weaker than Eddie, not as strong-willed as the half-human monster he keeps locked up in his basement for his own safety.
Maybe he should be the one locked away.
Because Steve is greedy in a way that Eddie isn’t. Has become addicted to the feeling of Eddie’s fangs piercing his skin, of lips sucking at his throat to drain him of the precious red the beast in Eddie needs to thrive.
Just thinking about it makes his heart pump faster, conditioned to send blood rushing through his veins, hot and ready for consumption. It makes him shiver, sending a prickling sensation all across his body. Makes his skin heat up, cheeks burning with the insatiable desire to be taken.
The memory of last time is still fresh on his mind. Not even an hour ago, he sat in Eddie’s lap, cradled in his arms, coming down from a high no drug could ever grant him.
It’s a sensation unlike anything Steve’s ever experienced before, a feeling he wishes he could chase more often, and hold onto much longer. Wishes, selfishly, Eddie would lose himself just once, take just a tiny sip too much, suck on him just a second too long. But he never does. Only ever takes what’s needed, never for pleasure alone.
And so all Steve can do is wait, impatient and begrudgingly obedient, for the next time hunger calls Eddie’s lips to his throat.
It is all he can think about, all the time. Has this constant itch under his skin, right there, beneath the marks Eddie left the first time he drank from him. Scars that magically heal every time he’s done using him. Just two little dots, hidden in plain sight, barely noticeable amongst the scatter of moles adorning his body.
But Steve knows they’re there, finds them blindly with the tips of his fingers when he touches the side of his neck. And when he thinks about it hard enough, he can even feel the phantom heat of Eddie’s mouth on his skin. Can feel the pressure of soft lips closing around the open wound, and how his tongue moves against the throbbing vein, almost soothing in contrast to the sharp pain of teeth breaking skin.
It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, and maybe Steve is insane for finding pleasure in it, but he never feels more at ease than when Eddie feeds on him. When his body becomes all loose and pliant, and his mind starts to drift. When he gives up control and Eddie takes it, cherishes it like a gift, handling him with so much care it feels almost loving.
Steve knows he’s only serving a purpose but Eddie always makes him feel so special, worshipped in a way he’s never felt before. Offers his gratitude in form of praise and gentle caress when he holds him through the come-down. Makes sure he drinks water and has a snack after, and doesn’t leave him out of sight until he’s sure Steve is fine.
Makes him wonder sometimes, if that’s the human part of him shining through. If that is who Eddie was before he got turned into who he is now. And it makes him feel stupidly jealous of any partner Eddie might’ve had in his past, who he’d showered with all this attention, sweet and caring, probably reading their wishes from their lips.
Steve never had that. Not with Nancy, and certainly not with any other failed attempt on a relationship after that. But now with Eddie, doing what they do, he’s gotten a taste of what it’s like.
And the problem is, that he wants more of it.
Wants it all to himself, wants no one else to come between them. That’s why he keeps it a secret, hasn’t told anyone about the monster living in his house. Not even their friends know, not yet. Steve knows that it’s wrong, knows that sooner or later, he’ll have to confess. Has to come clean about the fact that Eddie is back, changed but alive. That he’s been back for some time, three weeks to be precise. Slowly adjusting, still trying to figure out what to do and where to go from here.
There is just too much at stake, and despite the guilt he feels for lying, his possessiveness over Eddie wins.
Featuring: Smut, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Fantasy, Dubious Consent, Dom/sub, BDSM Scene, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Sexual Roleplay, Consensual Non-Consent, Rape Roleplay, Virginity Roleplay, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, Under-negotiated Kink, basically: roleplay gets out of hand & some things not previously agreed upon happen but nobody gets hurt, Light Masochism, Slut Shaming, Humiliation Kink, Degradation Kink, Exhibitionism (as a fantasy), Dacryphilia, Virginity Kink, Top Steve, Bisexual Steve, Mean Dom Steve, Soft Dom Steve, it's both. he's on a journey of self-discovery, Big Dick Steve, Sub Eddie, Bottom Eddie, Gay Eddie, Teasing, Nipple Play, Sensation Play, Cock Slapping (kinda), Anal Sex, Barebacking, Coming Inside, Rough Sex, Clothed Sex, Hand Jobs, Subspace, Spanking, Dom Drop, Aftercare, Enemies to Lovers (as a sexual fantasy), Established Relationship (in reality), Idiots in Love, Talking About Feelings, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), POV Eddie Munson
“Look at you. Spread across the hood of my car like a whore. It’s like you’re asking for it, Munson. Are you?”
Eddie licks his lips, his eyes widening. “Asking for what?”
“To get bent over this hood and have your slutty hole reamed ‘till you beg for mercy.”
Eddie and Steve play out a secret sexual fantasy Eddie used to have involving the former jock, back when he had an embarrassing hate-crush on him in high school. Things get a little out of hand, and they both discover something new about themselves and their sexual dynamic. In the heat of the moment, the scene turns dubiously sane and dubiously consensual, but at least still safe.
Written for @steddielovemonth day 21 prompt: beemer
“The fuck are you doing here, Munson?”
Eddie grins, turning his head in the direction of the voice. He reclines further back on top of the hood of Steve Harrington’s beemer, leaning against an elbow. He’s in his most classic outfit: tight black jeans with holes at the knees, bulky black boots, the Hellfire shirt, and the black leather jacket, unzipped. Only his battle vest missing.
Steve steps closer, stopping right in front of him. Dark blue preppy polo, light blue jeans that have always been Eddie’s favorite, hugging Steve’s thighs and ass in the most mouth-watering way.
“Get the hell off of my car, Freak,” Steve says, his tone more annoyed than actually angry, and he raises his knee to lightly kick at one of Eddie’s boots resting against the car bumper.
Eddie tilts his head, giving him a challenging smirk.
“Make me, Harrington.”
He spreads his legs a little more. Steve steps right between them, knees hitting the front of the car, folds his arms on his chest and raises an eyebrow.
“Are you sure that’s how you wanna play this?”
“Like how, King Steve?” Eddie asks mock innocently, lying fully on his back and batting his eyelashes with a smile.
Steve scoffs, eyes dragging over Eddie's body in front of him.
“Look at you. Spread across the hood of my car like a whore. It’s like you’re asking for it, Munson. Are you?”
Eddie licks his lips, his eyes widening.
“Asking for what?”
“To get bent over this hood and have your slutty hole reamed ‘till you beg for mercy.”
Eddie audibly gulps, his mouth falling open; along with his knees, the motion that gets followed by Steve’s gaze. Steve places his hands on both of Eddie’s thighs, just above the knees, pressing down and leaning forward.
“Is that why you’re here? What you’re hoping would happen? Are you really that desperate to get railed, Munson?”
Eddie lets out a sharp exhale, blood rushing to his cheeks. Not just his cheeks; the bulge inside his tight black jeans becomes more obvious, and Steve looks at it appraisingly. He clicks his tongue.
“Don’t bother answering that, your dick just did that for you.” He meets Eddie’s eyes again, pupils fully blown with arousal. “Maybe I should give you what you’re asking for then. If that will get you to get the hell off of my beemer.”
His tone is half-sultry and half-menacing. King Steve in his full glory. Eddie is completely lost for words, so Steve just presses on, hands sliding further up his thighs.
“Or maybe I should just strip you naked and tie you down to the hood like this. Maybe I’ll drive around town a bit, show off my car’s new shiny piece of decor. Let everyone see what a slut you are.”
Eddie whines, squeezing his eyes shut.
“’m not,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his crotch up obscenely in contradiction to his words. “Just… just for you, Harrington. I’ve never… um. You’d be my first.”
“Oh really?” Steve raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Wouldn’t have guessed, with how you’re behaving. Sluttiest virgin I’ve ever met. Just me, huh? Why me?”
“You’re King Steve. Prettiest boy in school. Everyone says you’re great in bed. And I’ve heard you have a huge dick.”
Steve laughs, throwing his head back.
“You’re that shallow, huh? Not a word about my charming personality?”
“Because you have none. You’re as dull as a jock can be, Harrington. And a total prick.” Eddie pauses and winces, eyes darting across Steve’s face. “Shit, sorry, that was—”
“It’s cool, babe. Green,” Steve says in a much softer tone, and then the mask is back on. “That was kinda mean, Munson. If you want my cock, you gotta be nicer. Ask me to fuck your pretty little hole. Right here, in the middle of this parking lot, where anyone walking by could see — you really don’t care, do you? No wonder everyone calls you a freak.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the hood with a quiet thud. They’re not actually in any parking lot, obviously. They’re in the safety and privacy of Steve’s huge garage, but Steve is playing so well into the fantasy that Eddie actually imagines it for a moment, being exposed, watched and humiliated in front of the whole school, all gasping and pointing fingers at him; the phantom embarrassment of the idea is making him shiver and blush bright red. It’s terrifying, but also really turns him on. He is a freak, no doubt about it.
“Jesus H. Christ, this is so fucking hot,” Eddie breathes, then licks his lips and looks up again. “Please, Harrington. Please fuck me.”
Steve is smirking at him, and it’s curious how Eddie can clearly distinguish that this here is an honest expression, a reaction to seeing his arousal. The real Steve, his Steve, not the King of Hawkins High, an imaginary shadow of the past he’s playing.
“Good boy, so polite all of a sudden,” Steve says, the words going straight to Eddie’s dick, already straining against his zipper almost painfully. He bends further down to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “Keep at it. And maybe, just maybe, if you behave yourself and take my cock like an obedient little whore, I’ll even let you come.”
“Oh fuck,” Eddie groans. “Want your cock so bad. I promise, I’ll behave. I’ll be good for you, Harrington. Please.”
Steve looks at him for a long moment, as if thinking about it; then, he reaches for Eddie’s crotch, squeezing it briefly and drawing a surprised moan out of him. He lets go after only a second, ignoring Eddie’s whine of protest as he takes a step back.
“Get up, and pull down your pants.”
Eddie scrambles off of the hood before Steve’s even done speaking, unbuckling his belt with nervous excitement. He can’t help but break character momentarily, giddy giggles escaping him as he drops his jeans down to his ankles; when he meets Steve’s eyes, Steve’s also trying to contain a smile, biting down on his lower lip.
Eddie can’t believe they’re doing this. It’s an absolutely ridiculous fantasy he used to jerk off to regularly several years ago, back when he was suffering from the most embarrassing crush on Steve Harrington while loathing everything about the jock at the same time. Back when he didn’t really know him.
Eddie used to think he’d take this to his grave (which he narrowly escaped last year); alas, with the help of a shared joint and playful leading questions from his now-boyfriend, Eddie slowly revealed it to him in full detail, blushing and cringing, but safe in the knowledge that Steve wouldn’t think less of him.
Sure, Steve did laugh a little, but then immediately asked Eddie if he’d like to try it out sometime, like a roleplay scenario. He’d be King Steve, and Eddie would be a somewhat braver version of the queer virgin self he was back in high school. It was a fantasy, after all. King Steve wasn’t real either, which Steve did point out to him (and Eddie knew that himself now, too), just a very partial collective perception of him, but he was willing to amuse Eddie by playing into it.
And Eddie has to admit… Steve’s playing the role even better than in Eddie’s wildest wet dreams. Because back then, Eddie had no idea what Steve Harrington could actually be like in the bedroom. How he’d be able to turn Eddie into a pathetic pleading mess with his words alone. And how much he’d enjoy every second of it.
Eddie lets his jeans and boxers pool at his feet, over his bulky boots, not missing the way Steve’s eyes are immediately drawn to his dick, hard, pink and shiny at the tip. Eddie resists a cocky smirk; he’s supposed to behave at least somewhat bashfully, if this is the first time he’s exposed this way in front of another person. He feigns embarrassment, covering himself with his hands in front of his crotch and looking down.
“You suddenly shy, Freak?” Steve taunts with a grin. “A little too late now. Hands behind your back, lemme see how much you want this.”
Pulse racing, Eddie obeys, places his hands on the edge of the hood and watches Steve step closer, eyes on his cock.
“Hm.” He reaches out and drags his forefinger from the base, up the underside, excruciatingly slowly; Eddie trembles, watching. Steve’s finger stops at the wet tip, raising his dick a little, and he snorts. “Already leaking like a bitch in heat for me, aren’t ya, Munson.” He makes a few tiny circles with his finger, teasing the sensitive glans, and Eddie tries desperately to stay still, whimpering helplessly as another droplet squirts out of his cock.
Steve hums again and swipes up with his finger, gathering the wetness and leaving Eddie’s cock bouncing as he raises his hand and unceremoniously shoves his finger in Eddie’s mouth. Eddie groans, shuts his eyes and sucks, tasting himself, his cheeks flaming hot and stomach squirming with embarrassment.
Holy shit, how is Steve so good at this? Eddie can see how much he’s affected too, the obvious bulge in his jeans, the labored breathing and the familiar glint in his eyes; but then there’s the arrogant tone, the mock indifference, the humiliation.
A rational part of Eddie’s brain knows this is all a game, but it’s always been easy for him, getting in character, fully embracing their mindset. And it’s a complete no-brainer when the character is himself, just a little younger and inexperienced. He still remembers very clearly, what he was like back then. 19-year-old virgin Eddie would probably accidentally manifest the earth opening up underneath him and fall straight through to the Upside Down if anything like this were to happen to him.
“Good boy,” Steve praises, withdrawing his finger from Eddie’s mouth and patting his cheek twice. “Now turn around and bend over.”
Whole body trembling, a little weak in the knees, Eddie quickly complies and practically collapses against the hood.
“Fuck. It’s cold,” Eddie hisses as his hard cock touches the shiny steel.
“Shit. I should have warmed up the engine,” Steve laments in his normal voice.
“Fuck no, green, I’m kinda into this. Actually… you can hike up my shirt, too.”
“Huh. Okay then,” Steve says, amused, and reaches underneath Eddie’s jacket, pushing his shirt up all the way to his armpits.
Eddie lowers his chest back down, groaning at the cold sensation, his nipples immediately perking up and feeling more sensitive.
“Ohmygod,” he mumbles, dropping his forehead to the hood of the car.
He imagines what he must look like from a side perspective. Jeans at his ankles, bent over, shirt ridden up and only his leather jacket somewhat covering his exposed body. Definitely a wanton whore. The thought of that only arouses him more.
Steve runs his hands down his naked sides, over his stomach, grips Eddie’s cock at the base and drags his fist up its length, only once, before letting go and wiping his palm on Eddie’s hip.
“Jesus, you’re leaking so much, it’s pathetic. Gonna get your filth all over my nice car. You’re gonna have to clean up after yourself.”
“I will. I’ll clean up, I promise,” Eddie babbles, his face burning. “I can make a show of it for you, if you want, Harrington. Do it naked. Like a sexy car wash.”
He hears Steve inhale sharply behind him.
“Holy shit. Um. Yes, let’s do that, that would be so hot, babe. I mean— fuck. Sorry.” He chuckles and clears his throat. Eddie grins, already loving the idea that later he could maybe fulfill a fantasy of Steve’s too. “You better, Munson. I want my car as shiny as it was before.”
Steve’s hands move from Eddie’s hips and over his buttocks, and he slips both thumbs between his cheeks, spreading him open and whistling.
“My, my. Do you always walk around with your hole all wet and ready, Munson?” He asks, one thumb drawing slow circles around the pucker, smearing the lube leaking out of it. “Hoping someone will finally take pity on you and debauch you? Or were you just feeling particularly optimistic today.”
Eddie moans, rolling his hips into the touch, his cock dragging over the car hood. The cool steel, the air on his wet sensitive skin, the heat of Steve’s hands on him a stark contrast to it all; the sensations are driving him crazy, in the best possible way. As if all that wasn’t mind-blowing enough, there’s a sudden hard slap against his buttcheek, making him choke on air.
“I asked you a question,” Steve says sternly. “I thought you weren’t a slut. This,” he slips the tip of his thumb into Eddie’s hole, just a little, “tells me you’re lying.”
“Just for you,” Eddie hurries to reply, panting and shaking like a leaf. “It’s for you, Harrington, I was… I was optimistic. Hoped you’d wanna fuck me, if it was convenient, if I was ready for you.”
“So eager to please. I like it,” Steve comments, and Eddie hears the sound of his zipper.
Eddie tries to turn around, to look, but Steve immediately presses down on the back of his neck; not violently, just insistently. Like he always does.
“Face on the hood, Freak. Hands, too. Don’t move, and don’t even think about touching yourself.”
Eddie whines and closes his eyes, letting the fantasy come to life in his mind, even more realistic now without seeing the interior of the garage. He imagines Steve looking around, checking if they’re still alone in the parking lot, then taking out his cock. He feels it, the tip of it teasing his rim in circles, then dragging up and down the crack of his ass.
“Fuck, please, please,” Eddie begs, hears a snort behind him and then, Steve pushes in, just the tip. Pauses, waits. Eddie quickly taps on the hood, three times, the nonverbal signal for green; and Steve keeps going, smoothly sliding all the way in and punching a gasp out of Eddie. “Oh god.”
“Everything you hoped for, Munson?” Steve teases, grabbing his hips and pulling out almost all the way, then slamming back inside him.
“Aaahhh. Yes, yes, so good,” Eddie sighs, and then he loses the ability to speak any more as Steve immediately sets a brutal rhythm, fucking him so hard he can barely breathe.
The angle is all wrong, barely brushing his prostate every ten or so thrusts, enough to keep winding him up but not nearly enough to stimulate; he could come untouched, just like this, if only the dick inside him was aimed just a little lower. But every time he tries to squirm and adjust the angle, there’s a sharp slap against his ass.
“Keep still,” Harrington says sternly.
Eddie knows what he’s doing, deliberately torturing him. Maybe Eddie deserves this. This is what he asked for, didn’t he? To get fucked. Harrington never promised it would be satisfying.
Eddie resigns himself to his fate, being used like that, his dick occasionally slapping against the car hood with how hard Harrington’s railing him, the jolts of pain adding to the humiliation and arousal but not getting him anywhere near an orgasm. He can hear Harrington panting and grunting behind him, the obscene sounds of skin slapping and lube squelching as he's being reduced to nothing but a device for the guy's pleasure; and somehow, all that is still turning him on. He regrets nothing, he wants Harrington to use him, to come inside him; his mind is slowly turning to mush.
His dick aches, begging to be touched, and Eddie tries desperately to focus on other sensations to distract himself from that. The steel of the hood, now warm from his body, the grill of the beemer digging into his bony knees, the fingers squeezing his hips. He barely feels like he’s inside his own body, floating away, drooling over the hood under his cheek, until Harrington’s thrusts suddenly falter and he groans, slamming inside him once more, and Eddie feels him spilling inside, filling him with his come.
“Fuuuuuck. That felt so good,” Harrington says, only a slight hitch in his breathing betraying him. He slips out of Eddie, leaving him empty and devastated, still hard as rock. Eddie feels him touch his sensitive rim with his fingers and whimpers. “Fuck, look at that pretty hole, it was made to be filled up. Congrats, Munson, you’re no longer a virgin. That’s what you wanted, right? You should say thank you.”
“Thank you,” Eddie chokes out, even as his eyes prick with tears.
Harrington slides his hands up Eddie’s torso, and Eddie raises himself a little on his arms, letting those hands torment him, reach his nipples, squeeze and twist them until he sobs out loud.
“Please,” he keens, thighs shaking, cock hovering above the hood, heavy, untouched, twitching and leaking.
“What’s that? Oh, you wanna come?” Harrington teases, finally wraps his hand around Eddie’s cock and just… holds it. It takes all of Eddie’s willpower not to fuck into it, knowing he’s not supposed to. “Maybe I shouldn’t,” Harrington muses. “Maybe I should leave you like this. Have you crawling back to me for more, again and again, praying that one day I’ll get you off. Make you my own personal walking cumrag, Munson.”
“Fuck, fuck, no,” Eddie sniffs, tears running down his face, desperate and humiliated, mind completely lost in the fantasy. “Please, please, Harrington,” he begs, choking on his own sobs. “I’ve been good, you promised.”
“Shit, Eddie,” Harrington mutters, and then his hand finally moves, jerking Eddie’s cock hard and fast, and it feels so good Eddie groans and collapses down to the hood of the beemer; this momentarily breaks the rhythm, but Harrington wraps an arm around his middle and holds him up, resuming his strokes.
“Oh god. Thank you, thank you, please,” Eddie babbles, squeezing his eyes so tight he sees little stars dancing across his eyelids. He’s gasping for air, bucking his hips into the overwhelming pleasure, the tension in his lower abdomen coiling and tightening, he’s so fucking close, he just prays Harrington wouldn’t be so cruel as to stop now. “Please… please don’t stop, I’m so close, please, oh, oh, ohgodohGOD!” Eddie screams and explodes, shooting white streaks all across the hood of the beemer.
Eddie’s legs give out under him completely; he’d probably collapse again, if it weren’t for the strong arm still holding him up as Harrington’s other hand strokes him through it, milking every last drop and letting go when Eddie starts whining and squirming away, too sensitive.
And then, he’s being turned around, and Harrington’s arms wrap tightly around him, holding him close and confusing him for a moment until— until his scrambled thoughts slowly come together, and he remembers, and Harrington’s words finally make sense.
No, Steve’s words.
“Baby, Eddie, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Steve leans back a little, his eyes glistening with tears, darting across Eddie’s face, and Eddie feels wetness on his own cheeks Steve’s now wiping at with his thumbs. He doesn’t even remember crying. “I’m so fucking sorry, I took it too far, you— holy shit, you scared me. I didn’t even realize— fuck. You really believed it, didn’t you?”
Disoriented, his brain still mostly a complete mess, Eddie slowly nods. He looks around the garage they're in, then back to Steve, his boyfriend, the man he loves and who just somehow made a sexual fantasy feel so real it’s uncanny. Now, with Steve’s arms and his normal gentle voice grounding him, Eddie feels so silly; it feels like waking up from a hyper realistic dream.
A dream that was… actually, really fucking nice. All of it.
He kisses Steve, slow and gentle, because he needs a few more moments to collect his thoughts. It’s not helping that he still feels kinda floaty after the whole experience.
“It’s okay,” he breathes against Steve’s lips. “Baby, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Steve shakes his head, sniffing. “I should have checked in. I got carried away.”
“Because it was really hot, right?” Eddie asks, slowly smiling at him, brushing his fingers through Steve’s hair. “We both got a little carried away. I’m fine, I swear, Stevie. Shit,” he laughs, wiping at his own eyes. “I didn’t expect I’d actually lose all sense of reality for a moment, but it was so good. Intense. Cathartic. I really liked it. You being… kinda mean. You should do it more often.”
Steve blinks at him, frowning.
“But… I don’t wanna be mean to you. I love you, Eds. I didn’t… I didn’t wanna make you cry.”
“Didn’t you?” Eddie lifts an eyebrow. “Come on, you liked it, too. Ah, ah!” He presses a finger to Steve’s lips, shushing whatever he was about to say in protest. “Don’t deny that, baby, you said so yourself… you got carried away, ‘cos you were into it. Right?”
Steve winces, glancing away. He’s clearly fighting some sort of inner battle before answering.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Eddie encourages, stroking his cheek. “Full honesty, remember? And zero judgment.”
Steve sighs, meets his eyes again, and slowly nods.
“Yeah. I did. But… it feels wrong. Fucked up.”
“Then we’re both a little fucked up, baby, ‘cos I enjoyed it.”
“Feels like I… like I assaulted you,” Steve says, his voice breaking.
“But you didn’t,” Eddie disagrees. “Not really. And not even me, I wasn’t exactly myself either. Baby,” he sighs, nuzzling at Steve’s cheek. “You were so thoughtful about everything. You wiped and polished this hood three times just to have it perfectly clean for me. Remember? Then you insisted on putting, like, I’m pretty sure, half a bottle of lube inside me beforehand,” Eddie chuckles, “and fingered me so fucking gently until I practically forced you to stop and get downstairs, because I was horny out of my mind and so goddamn ready to play.” He smiles and takes Steve’s face between his hands, trails kisses all over it, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his forehead. “My sweetheart. You’d never really hurt me, and I know that. You’re perfect. You’re the sweetest cutie pie in this world. My adorable little pumpkin. My—”
“Okay, okay, you can stop now.”
Finally, a hint of a smile on Steve’s lips; he lets out a shaky, relieved-sounding sigh.
“We will talk about it more later, okay?” Eddie suggests softly. “Let’s shower, my ass is about to get permaglued to your beemer.” He grins. “Unless you were serious about parading me around naked on the hood of your car.”
The joke works; Steve laughs, a little wetly still, but earnestly.
“No, fuck that, no way,” he says, kneeling down to unlace Eddie’s boots and take them off, then drag his jeans and boxers off of his feet. “You’re mine, nobody else gets to have this eye candy.” He straightens up and hoists Eddie in the air with his hands on his butt; Eddie yelps, laughing, wrapping his legs and arms tight around Steve.
“That’s good, ‘cos I like being just yours, Stevie,” he says, kissing Steve and letting himself be carried through the garage door back inside the house.
Steve fucks— no, makes love to him again later that night, missionary style, lips caressing every inch of Eddie they can reach, the rhythm so slow and gentle it makes Eddie’s teeth ache; but he lets Steve have this. He totally gets why his boyfriend needs it right now.
If you enjoyed the fic please consider feeding kudos to the author ^^
POV you're trying to save the town (again) but you also gotta take care of a certain menace living in a secret hideout in the woods
(Season 5 AU: Eddie survives)
Featuring: Smut, Fluff and Smut, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Established Relationship, Confident Sub Steve, Awkward Soft Dom Eddie, Eddie is a Tease, Eddie is a Mess, Essentially a confident sub / absolute mess of a dom dynamic, Dom Eddie likes to pretend he's all that until he's not, They're in love obvy, Sex Games, CMNM, Teasing, Nipple Play, Spanking, Cock Teasing, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Orgasm Edging, Orgasm Denial, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants/Untouched, Praise Kink, Dacryphilia, Soft Eddie, He just loves his precious plaything of a boyfriend so much, Gentleness, Cuddling, Aftercare, They both have very little idea of what kinda 'games' they're playing but it's all good, Safe Sane and Consensual, Human Furniture (kinda???), Weirdness, Nerdiness, POV Steve Harrington, Set in 1987
Eddie's slowly grinning, a familiar glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. “Let’s play a game, sweetheart,” he offers, shifting his arm on the back of the couch, fingers gently twirling the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck.
If Steve had a tail, he’d be wagging it right now. Alas, he doesn’t, but he does have a dick, which curiously stirs in his pants at whatever idea Eddie has in mind. He can always feel when Eddie’s in a particular mood, and his games are… well, always something. Steve never knows what to expect. But it’s definitely never boring.
Written for @steddielovemonth day 19 prompt: dnd figurine
“I’m bored,” Eddie announces, after about half an hour of flipping through channels resulted in nothing interesting for them to watch.
It’s been like this for a couple of days now. They had already watched all the rented movies they had in Eddie’s trailer, which weren’t many; the only perk of Steve working at Family Video was that he always thought he could bring something new to watch. Until he couldn’t.
A pretty bad snowstorm that had suddenly dumped over 10 inches of wet snow over the Midwest had them essentially snowed in. They had plenty of food, thankfully, and the new space heater that Steve had brought in at the start of winter (it was just gathering dust in his parents’ garage anyway, not like they ever needed it) made the place feel toasty warm and cozy with the wind howling outside.
Uncle Wayne, who’d gone to Indianapolis to visit some relatives the day before, called Eddie to say he was okay, he’d just wait it out until the roads were safe to drive again. Steve, naturally, decided to stay at Eddie’s; there was no point in trying to make it back to his house, everything he needed was right here. His real home, most of the time these days.
Steve turns to find his boyfriend already looking at him.
“I’m sorry, are you expecting me to entertain you?” Steve asks, lifting an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Eddie replies, slowly grinning, a familiar glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. “Let’s play a game, sweetheart,” he offers, shifting his arm on the back of the couch, fingers gently twirling the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck.
If Steve had a tail, he’d be wagging it right now. Alas, he doesn’t, but he does have a dick, which curiously stirs in his pants at whatever idea Eddie has in mind. He can always feel when Eddie’s in a particular mood, and his games are… well, always something. Steve never knows what to expect. But it’s definitely never boring. It tests his own limits and patience, it can be frustrating, but the subsequent release is always absolutely mind-blowing, like nothing he’d ever experienced before Eddie, and totally worth it.
Steve used to feel embarrassed about enjoying it so much, but not anymore, feeling more secure in this relationship than he’d ever felt with anyone else. So he kind of accepted, at some point, that there’s nothing wrong with being Eddie’s plaything sometimes. It’s really flattering, too, how much Eddie just enjoys doing things to his body like it’s the most interesting thing in the world to him. It kind of fucks with Steve’s head, being Eddie’s center of attention, makes his brain sort of quiet and spongy, thoughts slow and syrupy, better than from any weed.
“What kind of game?” He asks, licking his suddenly dry lips and not missing the way Eddie’s eyes immediately dart to them.
The last time they played a game, Eddie brought out his D&D dice. He had a fun idea of rolling how many minutes he’d spend on each part of Steve’s body. Steve thought he’d die the most wonderful death of having his nipples teased, licked and sucked and pinched for fourteen whole minutes. But that was nothing compared to an actual natural twenty Eddie rolled for his dick, and Steve was a begging sobbing mess from the too gentle touches of Eddie’s tongue and lips that were getting him nowhere. Twenty long minutes of sweet torture until Eddie finally tightened his hold and sucked hard and Steve came undone within seconds, screaming from the relief. He sucked Eddie’s dick afterwards with an overwhelming feeling of what could only be described as gratitude. It was fucking amazing.
“Hmmm,” Eddie hums, tapping a finger against his own lips. “I’ve had some ideas. Tell me, baby, would you like to test if you can keep perfectly still while I’m touching you?”
“You mean like… tying me up?” Steve asks; they’ve done it before.
“Wouldn’t be much of a game,” Eddie grins. “No, it’s going to be more interesting. You up for that?”
Steve laughs, his cheeks already feeling warm.
“Interesting is usually your code for making me lose my fucking mind, but yeah, sure.”
It will probably be fine… right? Worst case scenario, he could always call timeout, but it rarely comes to that. Eddie somehow knows how to push all his buttons without completely breaking them.
“Great,” Eddie says, leaning in to kiss him briefly, almost sweetly. “Go take a shower for me, don’t bother with clothes, just bring your gorgeous naked self to the bedroom right after.”
Steve shivers at the suggestive tone, hops off the couch and feels a slap against his rear as he goes to do what Eddie asked. He giggles and looks over his shoulder to find Eddie on the edge of his seat, a look of excited anticipation matching Steve’s on his face.
He showers quickly, carefully avoiding the water hitting his head because it would be annoying, to have to waste time drying it. He cleans everything thoroughly, his dick already half-hard at the implication of Eddie specifically asking him to shower. Eddie likes to use his mouth where Steve never thought anyone would touch him, period, much less with their lips and tongue. The first time it happened, it felt so obscene and forbidden and so fucking good Steve came just from that, rutting his dick against the crumpled sheets underneath him.
Steve dries himself off with a towel and heads to Eddie’s bedroom, where he finds Eddie sitting in a chair, waiting for him with a cheeky smile on his face. A blanket and a duvet have been dragged off of the bed and laid out on the floor in layers.
“You want me on the floor?” Steve asks, lifting an eyebrow and trying to fight the silly instinct to cover himself as Eddie’s eyes drag down his naked body. Eddie’s still fully dressed in his sweatpants, fuzzy socks and an Iron Maiden T-shirt.
“Yeah. My mattress is kinda shit for this idea, too soft,” Eddie replies, lounging back in the chair, legs spread wide. Steve can see a bulge at the front of them, an obvious sign that Eddie’s just as excited for this as him; his mouth waters. “Get down on all fours for me please, sweetheart.”
Heart hammering in his chest, Steve obeys. He kneels down on the duvet and leans forward on his hands, then looks up at Eddie, whose eyes darken as they roam over his body, the lewd position he’s in.
“Good boy,” Eddie praises, the words sending another shiver down Steve’s spine, raising himself to his feet. “You comfy? I don’t want your knees to hurt from this.”
“Yeah, feels okay,” Steve replies after fidgeting a bit; the layers provide just enough cushioning. He feels fondness tug on his heart; this is why he trusts Eddie unconditionally. Eddie always makes sure he’s comfortable, before whatever he’s about to do to Steve.
“Good.” Eddie saunters around him in a wide circle, and Steve feels his skin prickle at being viewed from all angles like an exhibit, and from the suspense, the not knowing what comes next. It’s not a bad feeling; far from it. This moment, right here, is one of Steve’s favorite parts of the experience. “Here are the rules, pretty boy.”
Eddie finishes a full circle around him and crouches down so they’re face to face. He holds up something between his thumb and forefinger; one of his many painted D&D miniatures. It’s small, not even 2 inches tall, with a round stand at the base.
“Hold your back straight for me,” Eddie says, then reaches over Steve’s shoulder. “Perfect. Now, this little guy goes in the center of your back.” Eddie places the figurine; Steve can feel it, barely, it’s so light. “Now,” Eddie returns to face him, grinning. “Your job is to stay still and not let him fall off of your back.”
Steve gulps. He feels goosebumps on his skin and trembles a little, feeling the figurine wobble a bit, but stay put after the small movement.
“What… what happens if he falls?”
“Ah, great question,” Eddie chuckles; it’s obvious he’s having fun coming up with these rules. “Let’s say our brave warrior here has… hmmm. 30 HP. Each fall will take off 5 health points, so essentially… Five chances to recover and get back on you before he falls to his final death and it’s game over.” Eddie leans in closer. “Shall we see if you can come before that happens, baby?” He purrs, sending a jolt of pure arousal through Steve’s body.
Fuck, he’s really hard already, and Eddie hasn’t even touched him. The way this absolute nerd can rile him up with just his words… it’s no longer surprising to Steve, but just as amazing to experience. Steve’s just as much of a freak as Eddie, for being into this. He can live with that, so long as that knowledge stays between the two of them.
“Alright,” Steve breathes. “I’m game.”
“Fuck yes!” Eddie pumps his fist in the air, then spins around on his bent legs, landing on his ass and clapping his hands excitedly; Steve can’t help laughing at his gimmicks. As if Steve wouldn’t indulge him with his idea.
“Am I, uh. Like, getting punished for the falls?” Steve asks, chewing on his lip.
Eddie’s eyes widen. A score for Steve; that totally caught Eddie off guard.
“Uh. Do you want to?” He fidgets as Steve hesitantly nods. He’s always uncharacteristically nervous when it comes to this. However many times Steve’s told him he’s not actually hurting him, that the burn feels surprisingly good. Adds fuel to the fire. “Uhm. Shit. Okay, how about… One smack for each health point lost, that seems appropriate. Right?”
Steve nods again, buzzing with anticipation. Suddenly, a thought strikes him, and he narrows his eyes at his boyfriend.
“You’re not gonna, like, deliberately sabotage me? Like tickle me or something.”
“Sweetheart!” Eddie gasps, mock scandalized, pressing a hand to his chest. “I would never!”
Steve gives him an unimpressed look.
“Well, okay,” Eddie chuckles, correcting himself, “not tonight. I swear I won’t do anything to hurt your chances, cross my heart”, he follows up with the gesture over his chest. “I mean…” He grins again. “Beyond making you moan and squirm for me, pumpkin.”
Steve shivers again, his cock twitching a little.
“Game on, then,” he says, trying to will himself to relax as Eddie leans in for a quick peck on his lips before crawling over to his side.
It’s really not helping that his body already feels like a giant live wire. The first touch of Eddie’s hand to his chest nearly makes him jump.
“Already so tense, sweetheart”, Eddie coos above his ear; of course he noticed Steve’s reaction. “Breathe for me, baby, we’re just having fun here. There we go, nice and slow.”
Steve tries to follow the advice, taking deep breaths as Eddie’s exploring hands glide across his skin. He glances down, watching them caress his stomach, stop right before his hips and then move back up. He lets out a gasp as they slide across his nipples, then closes his eyes and decides to keep his head parallel to his back; he’ll certainly get light-headed if he keeps looking all the time.
“Feel good, baby?” Eddie asks, and it’s a nonsensical question, but Steve knows why he keeps asking.
“Mhm,” he hums, sighing as Eddie starts to play with his nipples; his cock twitches instantly, and again when Eddie pinches and twists a little. Not painful, just giving him a zap of arousal that goes straight to his dick.
“Wonder if I can…” Eddie mutters to himself; then, Steve hears him move and when he glances down again, Eddie’s head is right under him, grinning at him briefly before he raises himself on his elbow. “Oh, perfect, I can reach,” he whispers against Steve’s skin before kissing it, across his pec and then around his nipple in a circle of slow, wet kisses, teasing, smiling, then finally wrapping his lips around it.
Steve was already struggling to keep still, up to that point. When Eddie sucks on his nipple, he loses it immediately, completely forgets about the rules and instinctively arches his back, pressing his chest into the warm sensual mouth.
The figurine tumbles over his side and down to the floor. He groans, equal amounts frustrated and aflutter; he knows what comes next.
“Ah. Our brave warrior has taken his first fall,” Eddie comments, amusement clear in his voice as he crawls out from underneath Steve, obviously very pleased with himself.
He places a hand on Steve’s buttock, stroking the skin.
“I’ll be gentle, baby. Remember, timeout if it’s too much.”
Steve hums in acknowledgment; he’s glad he doesn’t have to keep still for this, at least, because there’s no way he could.
The very first obscenely loud smack against his skin has him falling down to his forearms, groaning as the hot, stinging sensation makes him feel warm all over, his untouched cock desperately aching. Eddie counts, out loud, and when he reaches five, Steve just wishes he’d keep going. It’s not enough. It’s barely a tease; but honestly, it fits the whole theme of Eddie’s game that way.
“Fuck,” he breathes, raising himself up again; Eddie’s immediately at his side, tugging on his chin to look at him, eyes serious.
“Okay?”
Steve smiles at him.
“Very okay, Eds. I’ve told ya, it’s… it feels good. I promise. You’re not really hurting me.”
Eddie nods and kisses him softly, then moves to pick up the figurine and place it back on top of Steve. He’s under Steve again, tongue pressing to the skin of his neck and dragging it down, down, pausing only once so he can shift his upper body further, leaving a wet trail in the middle of Steve’s torso that makes him shiver. The figurine wobbles again, but not enough to topple; small mercies, because Eddie’s mouth is kissing his stomach, and the tip of Steve’s hard cock brushes his cheek, making him gasp; but when he looks down, he sees how with a smirking glance, Eddie ducks right under it and proceeds to press his mouth to his thigh.
It’s not on his dick, but it still feels so fucking good. Steve very carefully and slowly spreads his legs, shifting backwards and adjusting his balance so his back hopefully doesn’t incline too much. He moans at the teeth digging into his skin, Eddie’s mouth sucking a mark into his thigh; and then, fucking finally, he feels the first touch of lips against his aching balls.
“Fuck, Eddie,” he moans, fighting every instinct to buck into the touch as Eddie’s lips keep going, sliding along his shaft. “Oh god, please, please…”
He should have known Eddie’s far from done with him. It’s just more teasing, Eddie’s not even using his hands to keep his dick steady. When he reaches the tip, he puts his mouth around it, but doesn’t suck, just lets his lips slide right off, again and again, like he’s eating a popsicle; it leaves Steve whining and trembling each time at the alternating sensation of the warm mouth and significantly cooler air on his sensitive glans immediately after.
“Fuck, fuck, please,” he pleads, doesn’t even think, his brain hardly capable of it anymore; the next time Eddie’s lips are on him, he rolls down, desperate for more, for Eddie to finally take him in his mouth properly.
The figurine, which he’s completely forgotten about, falls again.
“Shit.”
“Shouldn’t have been greedy, baby,” Eddie jokingly scolds, and then he’s behind Steve again.
He lands the five smacks against Steve’s other buttock this time, all in quick succession, and Steve’s caught so off guard by this he actually forgets to breathe for a second.
“Nghhh. Fuck. Good,” he reassures before Eddie can ask. “My dick’s about to fall off, but good.”
Eddie laughs softly behind him, and his palms gently move across Steve’s buttocks, caressing the heated, tingling skin; then, he returns the figurine to its position on Steve’s back.
“You’re doing better than I expected, Stevie” he admits, and Steve feels a tickle of Eddie’s long hair on his butt as his boyfriend presses a kiss to his tailbone, then lower, lower—
Steve clenches his fingers at the fabric of the duvet, already worried he’ll lose this round before he even gets to properly enjoy Eddie’s mouth there. Hot and slick and so fucking intimate, the slide of his boyfriend’s tongue at the sensitive skin near his hole, the hands spreading his cheeks apart, exposing him, making him blush bright red and whine. He feels a drop of precome fall off his leaking cock, hopes it wouldn’t soak through the cover into the duvet; it probably will, and Eddie, as usual, will not care. As far as Eddie’s concerned, if the bedding’s been through the laundry, it’s all considered clean.
When the tip of Eddie’s tongue slides inside him, Steve tries, concentrates all his efforts on not leaning into the hot pleasure; but his body betrays him against his will. He’s shaking like a leaf, arms and thighs trembling from clenching his muscles to stay still, and the vibrations eventually topple the little figurine.
Steve just collapses after that, both arms and legs giving out underneath him. He’s breathing hard, hoping that lying down will give his body some respite as he accepts the sweet punishment against his ass, alternating between the cheeks this time. He groans and rolls his hips with each slap, so desperate for friction he doesn’t think about it being against the rules until Eddie presses a hand firmly to the small of his back, stilling him.
“Tsk. That’s cheating, baby,” Eddie scolds. “Back up, sweetheart.”
“I can’t,” Steve mumbles. “Timeout. I literally can’t, Eds. My arms hurt.” He’s never been this exhausted from not moving. Is this why people do yoga? Fuck, it’s gruesome. He’d rather run around a basketball court for an hour.
“Poor baby,” Eddie teases, a little meanly, but when he pulls on Steve’s shoulder and rolls him over, his smile is sweet and his eyes soft. “Okay. What if you just lie on your back, and we’ll place the little guy…” His eyes drag down Steve’s body, and he puts the miniature right below his ribcage. “Right here. That okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Are you gonna get me off now?” Steve asks, and Eddie grins at him.
“Patience, Stevie.”
He gets up, reaching inside the drawer by the bedside and then kneeling at Steve’s feet, spreading his legs open and crawling between them. Steve’s heart jumps, along with his cock. He watches Eddie squeeze himself briefly through his sweatpants, groaning and rolling his eyes back, before he lets go with obvious effort and starts squeezing lube onto his fingers.
“There’s no way that thing stays upright if you fuck me,” Steve comments. It's rising and falling on his chest with each breath, and that alone isn't enough to unbalance it; but surely, there's no way Eddie's thrusts wouldn't.
“I know. So I’m not fucking you. Yet,” Eddie teases, pressing the first finger in, and Steve lowers his head back to the floor, sighing shakily.
His boyfriend’s a fucking incubus. An absolute menace. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
At least he can see now, notice when he’s moving too much and making the figurine wobbly; it’s not much help though, because Eddie’s fingers inside him have a way of completely melting his brain and making him lose all sense of reality. Steve soon shuts his eyes, mewling and blabbering and not caring one bit how he sounds, it feels too good, especially when Eddie adds a second finger and curls them inside and massages that spot that sends molten lava through his veins, and— he can’t, it’s so much and not enough, his cock leaks against his belly and he grinds up helplessly, into thin air, letting out a completely pathetic sob when Eddie’s fingers withdraw.
The miniature lies on the duvet beside Steve’s arm. He’s going to scream. Or maybe cry.
“Jesus, Eddie, you’re… you’re killing me. Should I roll over?” His speech is slurry, like a drunk man’s; all he desperately wants is for Eddie to get it over with, to get his fingers back inside him, preferably touch his cock too—
The first sharp burn against his inner thigh shocks Steve so much he actually chokes on air. He glances up, eyes wide, to meet Eddie’s equally wide-eyed stare, hand hovering up in the air, hesitant.
“Okay?” He asks, and Steve finally breathes again, exhaling on a low moan.
“Oh god. Yes, definitely okay, holy shit, more.”
The skin of his thigh burns with each smack of Eddie’s palm against it, so much worse and so much better than it felt on his ass. His cock jerks and leaks pathetically against his stomach. Steve’s eyes prick with tears, and when Eddie’s done, belatedly, he thinks he might have just come from this if his boyfriend kept going. Fuck. His skin feels raw and very warm, and so fucking sensitive his cock twitches again when Eddie presses soft, soothing kisses to it in the aftermath of the punishment.
There’s something about it, the contrast between Eddie’s torment of his senses and the overwhelming gentleness that goes along with it. It fucks Steve up a little, shatters him into pieces; a tear rolls down out of the corner of his eye, and he hopes Eddie won’t notice, won’t make a big deal out of it.
Eddie does notice. He looks at Steve questioningly, but Steve just shakes his head at him.
“Good tears. Keep going, Eds.” He chuckles, sniffling, another tear rolling down. “Please touch my dick though, I’m literally dying here, babe.”
The figurine goes back on his chest. Steve doesn’t actually expect Eddie to comply with his begging, but maybe the tears had an unexpected positive effect, because a second after the finger are back inside him, Eddie swallows him whole in one smooth slide, the tip of his nose pressing into Steve’s pubic bone.
Eddie bobs his head and sucks, pressing his fingers into his prostate again; Steve’s actually shocked he doesn’t come instantly from that, he’s been so hard for so long now the sudden onslaught of sensations on all his most sensitive areas is almost too much.
He’s moaning loudly, not even aware he’s steadily rolling his hips, tiny thrusts to meet Eddie’s mouth, head swimming, body taut, balls drawing in, the hot coil in his belly so fucking tight— he’s breathlessly chanting EddieEddieEddie, so close, just a little more, just—
Eddie pulls off, and Steve whimpers loudly, dick twitching and aching from a denied release; he's so out of it, so stunned and confused he doesn’t even realize what happened for a few seconds.
And then he remembers. The fucking game. The fucking figurine. Five quick slaps on his other thigh, making him squirm and whine, almost too sensitive now. Why did he agree to this again? Oh god, he only has one more chance now. Does game over mean he won’t get to come? Nonono, he’ll actually die if Eddie—
Eddie’s up in his face, kissing the tears Steve wasn’t even realizing kept running down his face off of his skin, murmuring words that take a while to reach his useless brain.
“…been so good, sweetheart, my good boy, I love you so much, gonna make you come now, I promise, gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby.”
This is why, Steve realizes when the words break through the haze, slowly sink into his consciousness. This is why I let him do this. This, and the way Eddie slides down his body and takes him in his mouth again, sucking fast and sloppy; the goddamn miniature, which Steve didn’t even register Eddie placing back on him this time, almost immediately falls as Steve desperately bucks his hips into Eddie’s mouth, but Eddie doesn’t stop. He sees it fall and keeps going, shutting his eyes and breathing heavily through his nose and moaning as he sucks the very soul out of Steve through his dick.
Steve doesn’t even get a chance to warn him. He’s opening and closing his mouth soundlessly, like a fish, barely breathing as the long overdue orgasm thunders through his body, his spine curving so much he feels it pop and crack, probably from keeping still for so long; he’s only half aware of Eddie swallowing down his release, everything fading out for a moment as Steve collapses back to the floor, body trembling and mind blissfully blank.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” he groans, low and drawn out, when he finally remembers he should be at least capable of speech. “Oh my god, Eddie.”
Eddie’s moving back up his body, leaving kisses in random spots and making Steve squirm a little, smiling at how everything feels a touch too sensitive, almost ticklish. Then, Eddie rolls him to the side and his lips find Steve’s mouth, one hand tangling in his hair, other arm holding him close and kissing him, kissing him slow and gentle until Steve’s lungs burn and he has to come up for air, panting against Eddie’s bright pink lips.
He feels so wrung out, so completely ravaged, and so loved. He just wants to close his eyes and sleep, delightfully warm and safe in Eddie’s arms, and then he remembers— oh shit, Eddie. Eddie didn’t get off.
“Weren’t you gonna fuck me?” He asks, a little confused, and Eddie looks sheepish at the question, ducking his head to Steve’s shoulder.
“Uhm. I wanted to, I swear, just…” He trails off.
Steve reaches blindly with his hand, feeling wet fabric and a soft cock against his fingers; Eddie hisses, recoiling a little from the touch, and Steve’s eyes widen, mind reeling.
“Wait, really?”
“Don’t laugh at me,” Eddie mumbles into his skin.
“I’m not. Just… wow. Would’ve thought you’d at least resist touching yourself, for all you’ve been preaching about patience,” he teases gently. Payback.
“I didn’t,” Eddie admits with a strained groan, raising his head and meeting Steve’s eyes, his face bright red. "I didn't touch myself."
“Oh my god,” Steve feels a grin spreading across his face. He’s not making fun of Eddie, he’s really not, but he’s so amazed by the admission he can’t help it. “Wow. That’s— um. When?”
Eddie’s face gets even redder, as if that were possible.
“The— uh. The first time sucking you off. Jesus H. Christ, baby, the noises you were making. It was so fucking hot, I just— well.” He gestures to his crotch.
Steve giggles giddily, nuzzling at Eddie’s neck, wraps an arm around Eddie and snuggles even closer, sighing. He knows he’ll be thinking about this later, a lot. It definitely does something to his ego, knowing that he could do this to Eddie. Make him climax without a single touch. But Eddie seems embarrassed about it, and Steve can’t find the right words to reassure him right now, his brain still feels like useless goo.
“Guess I lost the game,” he says instead to change the subject. “Got scary for a moment there, I thought you’d stop again. Wouldn’t make me come, if the game’s over.”
“Hey, you know I’d never, right, Stevie? The point isn’t… win or lose, I just wanted us to have fun.” Eddie hesitates, his fingers drawing random patterns on Steve’s back. “Did you? Have fun?” He asks, a little bit of insecurity in his voice.
“Oh yeah.” Steve draws back so that his boyfriend could see his huge, sappy grin. “You never disappoint with your weird games, Eds. I always have fun with you.” He kisses Eddie softly and snuggles up to him again, his eyes drooping closed. “Mmm. Shower later, babe? I’m sleepy.”
“Don’t you wanna get on the bed?”
“Nuh-huh. Comfy here.”
“Okay,” Steve feels Eddie’s chest rumble as he laughs quietly. “Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too,” is the last thing Steve mumbles before the pleasant exhaustion he can feel deep in his bones takes him over completely, and he dozes off under the gentle hands of Eddie's still caressing his skin.
If you enjoyed the fic please consider feeding kudos to the author ^^
Today's prompt for the #steddielovemonth is 'dnd figurine'.
There's no word limit, and you can combine this prompt with other events, as long as our boys are the focus.
A quick guide for event submissions under the cut
Please tag this blog @steddielovemonth when you post. You can also follow the tag #steddielovemonth to keep up with posts. Please use this tag when posting. There's also a collection on AO3, please feel free to post your work there as well.
All submissions should include a rating and any CW or tags that you feel are necessary. Don't forget to also mention the prompt you're fulfilling. Please put Explicit material under a read more as well as long posts to not clutter people's dashboards.
Example: optional title
rating: G/T/M/E
cw: violence, blood, etc.
tags: established relationship, first time, etc.
prompt: object or location
Please try to only post your submission for a prompt ON that day by 11:59 pm EST. Really early or late submissions won’t be ignored, but could easily get missed in the mix of a different prompt on a different day (you can check timezones here). I will reblog all the posts for that day the following day, so posts for 2/1 will be posted on 2/2.
ARTISTS
The image must be Steddie, Steve, or Eddie focused, though other characters can be included!
Collaborations with writers are encouraged!
Always tag this blog with your submissions so I can see them and reblog them.
If you have questions, message this blog or @sidekick-hero.
(This is extremely late, but better late than never, right? Right?)
@steddielovemonth prompt: scars | T | wc 1,569 | getting together, established relationship | Other tags on AO3
TW: While not very explicit, there are mentions of what happened to Eddie when the demobats attacked him. We've all seen the behind the scenes/make up test of Joseph Quinn, so the description of the damage is based heavily on that. Plus, what I imagine would have happened to his internals.
If you want to skip over that, you can skip from "Even after being released..." to "He was lucky to be alive"
Eddie stared at the patchwork of scars all over his body under the harsh white bathroom lights. Even two years later, he still found it hard to look at himself for too long, but he was really trying now.
He’d woken up in the hospital almost six months after he was injured in the Upside Down. The doctors told him that it was a miracle that he’d survived because of the extensive damage he’d sustained. His injuries were mostly on his torso and arms, and some on his legs. The demobats had fucked up his ankles, biting and pulling them in strange directions.
Even after being released from the hospital, he still had to walk with a cane as he worked to get strength and mobility back into his legs. He had standing appointments with physical therapists for months and months. The bats had ripped into the skin on his torso; he lost his spleen, about two feet of his intestines, half of his stomach, and his gallbladder. There was a moment where they worried he’d lose his liver, but they were able to save it.
They’d sewn him up, and then focused on getting him better. What was hardest for him was the amount of scarring on his body. They’d bitten and ravaged both sides of him, leaving deep pitted scars on his stomach, his chest, his arms. He’d lost both tattoos on his chest, along with his left nipple. Both of his shoulders had been ripped into, and there was scarring on the left side of his neck that traveled up to the left side of his face. His forearms had scarring as well, but not as extensive. A few of the bats on his right forearm were gone, but the majority of them were still there.
He was lucky to be alive, and he was glad to be alive. He just wished he didn’t look so hideous now.
The physical therapy, the healing, plus the counseling he’d had to undergo, all of it was distressing. He’d luckily been surrounded by people who wanted to help him after this ordeal. Wayne, of course. The kids, the guys from Hellfire. Robin, Nancy, even Jonathan Byers, who he was surprised to see back in town. Chief Hopper, who had seemingly come back from the dead, even went out of his way to offer support to Eddie. Something he never thought would happen in his life, given their history.
The biggest and best surprise of all, though? Steve Harrington. Their burgeoning friendship during the Hell Week had morphed into something more once he was awake and out of the hospital. Steve was there for him almost as much as Wayne was, if not more so. He offered the two men a place to stay in his home, but only Eddie took him up on the offer. The government had finagled some new place for Wayne to live, just outside of Indianapolis, that was too good of a deal for the older man to pass up. He’d tearfully bid Eddie goodbye, letting him, and pointedly Steve, know that there were extra rooms for them to stay in whenever they wanted to come for a visit.
After that, it was just him and Steve in the Harrington house. His parents were who knew where, and he was glad of the company, and to make sure Eddie was taking all his medicine, going to all his physical therapy appointments, and just generally making sure he wasn’t alone.
Eddie’s body healed up as best as it could, but his mind was another story. He had frequent recurring night terrors, waking up screaming from dreams where he was being fully torn to pieces, sheets soaked in sweat. It had taken intensive therapy, and more than a few prescription medications, for him to be able to sleep through the night. Every day was a struggle for a long time, but Eddie kept at it. Determined that he would come through the other side of this.
One thing that helped with the night terrors was when Steve started sleeping with him at night. He’d initially joked about being in the wrong bedroom when he’d seen Steve come in and fluff the pillows on the side of the bed that Eddie never slept on, and he’d been concerned that Steve would be freaked out about how violent his sleep was. That never ended up being the case: the first time Eddie woke up from a screaming nightmare, he felt Steve’s arms wrap around him tight and pull him backwards against his chest, holding him the entire time as he shook and sobbed. After it happened again, less than three nights later, it became an unconscious decision for Steve to hold onto Eddie as he fell asleep, and while it didn’t completely drive away the bad dreams, they became less frequent.
It made sense to Eddie that he fell and fell hard for Steve after this started becoming their new norm. He didn’t want Steve to think he was taking advantage, so he tried to get the other boy to go back to sleeping in his own bed, assuring him, and trying to fool himself in the process, that he would be absolutely fine.
Steve had given him that bitchy look that Eddie had come to love so much, even putting a hand on his hip as he listened to the nonsense spewing out of Eddie’s mouth. He said, “Okay, man. You know best,” and then proceeded to work on making dinner for them, giving Eddie more than a few knowing glances as the night went on.
Eddie’s nightmare that night was the worst he’d had in a long time: everyone he knew was dead, and he was the cause of it, blood on his hands and on his mouth, pouring out of his eyes. As he woke up like a shot, he felt Steve’s hands clamp down on his shoulders to steady him through the worst of the shaking and sobbing. He clung to Steve then, and when he leaned back to say thank you, he was stunned when Steve pressed a soft kiss to his lips, tightening his grip on Eddie’s shoulders as he did so.
After that, they gave up any pretense of remaining just friends. Especially when Eddie moved out of the guest bedroom he’d been ensconced in, and started sharing Steve’s bedroom and bed with him.
For a long time, any sexual stuff they did, they did in the dark, or with Steve blindfolded, or with the maximum amount of clothes still on Eddie’s body that would allow for them to have sex but still keep him covered. It took almost a year before Eddie screwed up his courage enough to let Steve see him naked in the light, though he closed his eyes so that any involuntary reaction Steve made wouldn’t crush Eddie’s self esteem even more than it already had been. Not that Steve didn’t have scars, too, from their ordeal, but Eddie knew his were catastrophic in comparison.
After a quiet few minutes, Eddie opened his eyes when Steve gently slid his hands up Eddie’s arms, stopping when he cupped both sides of Eddie’s jaw. “I love you,” he said, quietly and in that Steve way that made Eddie’s heart beat faster. “I love every part of you. No matter how you look, how you move, how you do anything, I love all of you, Eddie Munson.”
Eddie let himself be taken to bed then, the lights on and the covers off as they made love languorously but still full of passion. It was everything he’d ever wanted, and he was glad he had it with Steve.
“Honey?” came Steve’s voice from the bedroom. He appeared behind Eddie in the mirror, his hair sticking in all directions from sleep, his boxers sliding down a little on his left hip. “What’re you doing up so early?”
“I wanted to start using some skin treatments on these scars,” Eddie answered. He held up a small tub of Palmer’s cocoa butter so Steve could see. “Could you put it on me?”
Steve nodded, holding back a yawn. “Can I do it when it’s not four AM?”
“Sure,” Eddie answered, setting the tub back down on the counter before he turned off the lights and ushered Steve back into the bedroom and back into bed. Once he felt the familiar and comforting sensation of Steve’s arms wrapped around him from behind, Eddie sank back against his boyfriend’s chest, letting out a sigh.
“What’re you thinking about?” Steve asked, voice muffled against Eddie’s neck.
“Just how lucky I am to have you,” Eddie answered, bringing Steve’s hand up and kissing his palm. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Steve.”
“You are, too, Eds,” Steve said, shifting to lean over and kiss Eddie on the lips. “Never forget that. I love you, I chose you, I want you.”
“Even when I’m old and wrinkly?” Eddie asked.
“Especially then,” Steve promised. He turned Eddie’s head so he could look at him. “It’ll let us know you survived. You had a life. You were and are loved.”
Eddie blinked away tears and shifted both of them so he could wrap his arms around Steve, lay with him chest to chest as they kissed in their bed.
Later, he would call this the first night of the rest of their lives.
(This is extremely late, but better late than never, right? Right?)
@steddielovemonth prompts: pool and ice cream scooper | T | wc 904 | established relationship | Other tags on AO3
Eddie lay on his back on the pool ring, floating across the water as the sun beat down on him. He was slathered in sunscreen, but annoyingly, could feel his shoulders prickling from the exposure, even through the SPF 50. His hair was half in and half out of the water, the lower half soaked almost up to his scalp. A light breeze blew through the backyard, skimming across the water and across his naked torso, a shiver running through him.
“Eddie?” Steve called from the sliding glass door of the kitchen. Eddie turned and opened one eye to squint at his boyfriend from the deep end. “I’m about to dish up some ice cream. Do you want some?”
“Is it strawberry?” Eddie asked as he pushed off from the edge of the pool towards the ladder.
Steve leaned against the door frame. “Of course it is.” It was one of the first things he learned about Eddie, back when he was still working at Scoops Ahoy and hating his life under the glare of fluorescent lights and the itchy polyester uniform he was forced to wear. The best part of that summer was getting to know Eddie in a bigger capacity than just seeing him around school or holding court near the Orange Julius in the mall when Steve went on his break.
He was in the shop, at least in the beginning, once or twice a week. Plain strawberry was all he ordered. In between the jibes about Steve’s outfit and that terrible phrase he had to greet customers with, Eddie flirted with Steve. So much so that on days when he didn’t show up, Steve found himself annoyed and disappointed for most of his shift. He was positively giddy when Eddie came back, and with increasing frequency.
The first time they’d kissed, Eddie had stayed late after closing to help Steve clean up after Robin had done her part and left for the night. Steve was showing Eddie the trick he’d learned where he would spin the ice cream scoop like a gun and then “holster” it at his hip. It was fun and funny, Steve promised.
And of course he couldn’t get it right. Eddie had joked about performance anxiety after it had clattered to the floor for the fifth time, pleased at the flush that colored Steve’s cheeks at the remark.
“I’m not used to being someone’s sole focus,” Steve answered, dropping the scoop into the sink to let it soak.
“I’d never be able to stop looking at or touching you if you were mine,” Eddie said, boldly, though his hands were shaking inside his jeans pockets.
They’d stared at one another for a moment before Steve moved. He grabbed Eddie by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into the back room, pressing him against the wall in a bruising kiss once the door swung closed behind them.
Eddie smiled at the memory as he climbed out of the pool, dripping water across the pool deck to get to where Steve was still standing. “It’s so nice that you always remember,” he said, grabbing his towel off of the chair just outside the door.
“You and strawberry ice cream are forever burned into my brain,” Steve said, watching as Eddie toweled himself off. “Especially since you tend to kiss me a lot after having it.”
Eddie grinned at him, squeezing his hair in the towel as he draped it over his shoulders to come together on his chest. “Just showing my appreciation for you, baby.”
“Mmhmm,” Steve agreed, eyes roving up and down Eddie’s form. He grabbed the towel and pulled Eddie in for a kiss, ignoring the wet swimsuit pressed against him and the smell of chlorine and Banana Boat sunscreen.
Eddie kissed him back, giving a low moan when he felt Steve’s hand travel down to squeeze his ass. “Think the ice cream can wait? I have something else I want to focus on right now.”
Steve blushed, trailing kisses down to Eddie’s neck. “Yeah, I’ll put it away. We can have it after.” He stopped for a moment and asked, “Unless you still want it; we can bring it with us and I can lick it off of you?”
Eddie sighed, tilting his head to reclaim Steve’s lips. “You’re full of good ideas today.”
“I’m hoping for more than ideas,” Steve retorted, giving. Eddie a wink that was so reminiscent of ones Eddie bestowed on him that it made him double over laughing.
“I created a monster,” Eddie managed, beaming at his boyfriend.
“You know you love me,” Steve said, feeling a jolt move through him as Eddie palmed him gently but firmly over his khaki shorts.
“I really do,” Eddie whispered. “Bring the ice cream, and that scooper…and wear that sailor outfit for me. Don’t worry: it won’t stay on for long.”
“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, voice shaky with anticipation as he leaned against Eddie.
“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “How else am I going to make sure the hottest ice cream worker has my sole focus?”
Steve looked up at him, the cutest smile on his face. “I don’t know,” he murmured, cheeks flushing prettily as they always did when Eddie said things like that.
“Well, let me show you, baby,” Eddie answered, kissing him once more, holding him close as the ice cream on the counter melted slowly in the container.
