secondwindsteve

[secondwindsteve]

haha you’re a dork (i want to fuck you)

[secondwindsteve]

Leave On The Light

Written for @steddiebingo, prompt: 'first date,' and bc Potion by Djo was caught in my head and this is the result bc Steve deserves to be wooed dammit

wc: 2.2k words | rated: G | cw: none | tags: Steve POV, fluff, Steve's poor self-esteem | AO3

🛋️🛋️🛋️🛋️🛋️

Steve’s hair is perfect. He’s spent years making sure it can be perfect no matter the situation, yet he can’t help but smooth it just a bit more in the rear-view mirror. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. Everything is going to be fine.

He broke out the nice cologne for this, dabbed it on his wrists and neck in the hopes that Eddie would like it, would lean in for more. Normally he’d have put on a nice button-down, maybe a sport coat if the location was going to be particularly fancy, but Steve knows damn well that if he tried to take Eddie anywhere fancier than Benny’s he’d squirm the whole time out of discomfort; not the vibe he’s going for, tonight, so instead he’s wearing a polo as usual, though one he’d definitely seen Eddie eyeing him in.

Another deep breath. Robin said Eddie had been flirting, and he’d noticed it himself, hard not to, but he could have been flirting with everyone. Eddie does do that, after all, but he had seemed so happy when Steve had asked him out, palms sweaty in a way they hadn’t since middle school, asking Heather to the Snow Ball.

And Eddie is much more important than Heather. More important than anyone has been since Nancy, and maybe more still.

He’s just—he’s—

Steve Harrington has been on a lot of dates. Most of those didn’t matter at all, and the last time he’d cared this much, this quickly, it had blown up in his face.

Bullshit.

And yeah, in hindsight, he’d made mistakes. Had tried to ignore the rifts growing between them, went to dinners that rubbed salt in Nancy’s wounds, just wanted to be teenagers occasionally.

In hindsight, he hadn’t been a great boyfriend to her. She hadn’t been perfect either, but—

Another deep breath. He’s going to be the perfect boyfriend to Eddie, he swears it. He’s learned from Nancy, from his friendships with Joyce and Dustin and El and Eddie himself. Sure, it might be a little harder, not being able to share their relationship with the world; Steve has always wanted to shout his love from the rooftops. He already wants to, with Eddie, though it’s not safe, not in Hawkins.

Maybe one day, if he gets to keep him.

Another. At this point he’s putting it off, and if he doesn’t get out of the car now, he’ll be late. Eddie probably wouldn’t mind, god knows he’s never been punctual in his life, but Steve wants—he needs this to go well, for Eddie to want to go on another date with him, and hopefully another, and another, until they’re so inseparable that Eddie can hardly imagine a life without Steve in it.

Steve is already there. He’d have that RV, but it would be to follow Eddie around on tour; they already basically co-parent a gaggle of little nuggets. He’d be a roadie, or something, and Eddie would meet him backstage where he’d kiss him before every show for good luck, and after too, would linger until the band is late getting on stage because neither one would want to let go, would cling to Steve like Steve longs to cling to him.

He’s also already there, parked outside the new trailer, as he has been for the last ten minutes.

Steve opens the door to the bimmer, lets the tension sink out of his shoulders. He knows how to give a date a good time, even if most of them never got past date three, but he knows the script, dammit, even if Eddie is a guy, has a few things planned for them, but one thing at a time.

Step one: the greeting.

He grabs the bouquet in the passenger seat, special-ordered with Robin’s help, and gets out. Steve’s heart beats heavily behind his ribs, louder than his shoes in the gravel or the pounding of Eddie’s music when he plays it in the van, but he walks up the steps nonetheless and gives a clear knock, precisely on time.

There’s cursing, a crash, and the door to the trailer swings open, a frantic Eddie catching it barely before it hits the wall and adds another ding to the paint.

“Steve!” Eddie almost-shouts, beaming. “Damn, you look—are those for me?”

It’s a bit like whiplash, the loudness of Eddie suddenly tentative as he takes in the bouquet in Steve’s hands.

“Hi, Eddie,” Steve replies like a sigh. Eddie isn’t perfect, he never is, but he’s—he’s Eddie, his hair in disarray, in a pair of black jeans with no rips and a band tee cut low on the sides. His feet are bare, which Steve can’t help but fixate on. It makes him look domestic, almost. Softer, even through the wildness of Eddie that always lingers anytime he’s in the room.

Steve loves it, has to tell him so. “You look good.” And he’s still waiting for a response— “Yeah, yeah of course they’re for you. I didn’t know if guys give flowers too, but I saw ‘em and thought of you, so. Here you go.” He thrusts the flowers forward and into Eddie’s uncertain grasp. Eddie doesn’t respond, looking wide-eyed down at them. “Do you… like them?”

“Yeah, I like ‘em,” Eddie says, touching the black petal of one of the flowers gently, as if gauging how real it is. “What are these? I’ve never seen flowers like this anywhere in Hawkins.”

“They’re, uh, they’re black dahlias. I don’t know how they make ‘em black, but um. I know you like darker colors most of the time, obviously, and they’re all spiky, look kind of dangerous, but are still really pretty. Kind of like you.” It’s a cheesy line, but it’s true.

Eddie almost startles at it, a flush spreading across his cheeks even as he brings the flowers higher, hiding his face among the greenery and glancing over at Steve. “…Thanks,” Eddie replies, turning quickly into the kitchen of the trailer behind him. “C’mon in, man—Steve,” he corrects quickly, “Lemme get these in some water, and I’m not actually ready yet—I was—it doesn’t matter, lemme just—”

Kitchen cabinets open and close, one after another, as Eddie looks for something to put them in. Mugs are too short, and they don’t own any vases. Steve follows him in, sitting at the small bar separating the kitchen from the living area, leaning his head on his chin, just watching Eddie.

Eddie pauses, gesturing Steve to wait. “Got it,” he says, ducking below the sink to grab a fairly tall glass cylinder with a candle inside, a probably-blasphemous saintly drawing of Dolly Parton wrapped around the outside, twisting and pulling at the candle inside. He shouts in victory when it comes loose, discarding the candle back under the sink with a thunk and quickly setting the dahlias up in Dolly, his hands gentle.

Steve just watches Eddie, as he so often does. He loves watching him. It sounds creepy, and maybe it is, but he… he just—

“So!” Eddie cuts through Steve’s train of thought. “You’ve been awfully secretive about this whole thing, sweetheart. Any hints you’re willing to give? Should I put on my nicest tee for the country club?”

“No way, Eddie, I said it’d be a surprise and I’m sticking to it.”

“C’mon, just a hint?” Eddie leans into Steve’s space as he so often does, cajoling, but this time Steve doesn’t need to play like he doesn’t adore it. He leans forward until the smallest movement would be needed to brush their lips together.

“Patience, Eds,” Steve grins, leaning just that bit more to press his lips to Eddie’s cheek. “Trust me.”

Again, Eddie flushes, mumbling, “You know I do.”

“I know.” And he does know. It’s the same for him, after all.

They linger in the moment, just looking at each other. Steve would be happy to do that all night, if it wouldn’t make him look like a creep, but he does see his sappy smile mirrored on Eddie’s face.

They haven’t even gone on a date and he’s gone for him.

“Oh! Actually that reminds me, wait here just one sec!” and Eddie is off like a shot, bare feet padding towards his bedroom as Steve waits obligingly. It’s barely a minute that passes until Eddie is back, but it feels longer. “Here you go,” Eddie says breathlessly, holding out his hand. Dangling from it is a silver chain with a bright, buttercup-yellow guitar pick.

Steve takes it reverently. It’s not Eddie’s own necklace, but it’s the same, and in a color that Steve has only barely admitted to himself is his favorite.

“I, uh, I know you’re used to being a little more… public than we can really afford to be, so. I thought this might be nice, to just… have something that we know, and our friends know, you know?”

He can’t find words, just staring at the gift, so Eddie continues.

“And I mean, I guess it might be too early? But I really, like, like you, man, and I guess I just wanted—if it’s a bad idea, that’s fine, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want, I just—”

“How did you know my favorite color is yellow?” Steve interrupts.

“I mean… isn’t it obvious?” Eddie blinks. “That sweater you love so much, even those beach towels you replaced last month, you picked yellow even though the old ones were blue. Plus, when we did that group sketch thing with Will, you picked the yellow notebook, and the flowers we planted out in the backyard are yellow, too. It was pretty easy to figure out, y’know?”

He just… lists it all out, and maybe it is obvious, but only if you looked.

Eddie looked.

“…Yeah, I guess so,” Steve responds. “I guess I just didn’t… expect you to.”

The beautiful, thoughtful, ridiculous boy in front of him scoffs at the thought. “Look, I may not know much about the whole dating thing, but I like you, Steve, and I want you to like me, too.”

What…? “Eddie, I asked you out, I already like you, you don’t need to woo me,” Steve says faintly.

Eddie reaches out and grasps his free hand, gently swaying the tangling of their fingers back and forth. “What if I think you deserve a little wooing, huh?”

But that’s… “That’s not how dating works, though.”

“Well, maybe dating’s stupid, if it means Steve Harrington doesn’t get a little wooed.”

A surge of panic hits him. “We’re going to a record shop that just opened up a few towns over,” Steve blurts out, “and an arcade that’s also a bar somehow, and then I have lasagna in the fridge, in case you wanted to come over after, or a picnic basket if you wanted to drive out and get high by the lake instead.”

Eddie looks a bit taken aback. “Holy shit, that sounds awesome, I didn’t even know you knew about the new store. But I mean. What happened to patience? Not that I’m complaining, not even a little bit, but.”

“I just—” How does he phrase this in a way that doesn’t sound pathetic? “I—you still want to date me, right?”

“Uh, duh.”

“Because, I mean, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to—” he grips the chain of the necklace like a lifeline, grips Eddie like a prayer.

“Steve,” Eddie interrupts, “I absolutely still want to date you, and woo you, and if dating doesn’t allow for that, then we need to invent something different, you and I. Whatever it is, I want to figure it out together, if that’s good with you. I mean, fuck, you’re you. I’m stupid into you, dude. Thought I was dreaming when you asked me out.”

“Thought I was dreaming when you said yes,” Steve replies, bringing Eddie’s hand up to kiss his knuckles, his rings. “Put it on me?”

“My absolute pleasure, my liege.” Eddie kisses his hand in turn and takes the necklace back, undoing the clasp with an ease of long practice and making his way behind Steve to do it up, breathing in deeply—good, the cologne has already come in handy—and pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of Steve’s neck when he finishes. “We’re driving out and getting high, by the way. We can save the lasagna for breakfast.”

Steve flushes at the thought, covering his face with his hands. He lets out a strangled, “Sounds good to me,” but he can’t help the wide grin, the echo of laughter in the words.

It’s Eddie, after all.

“C’mon then, Eddie, get your shoes on,” he says, turning to face Eddie and finally, for the first time, pressing their lips together. It’s brief, and he makes his way back to the door. The record shop closes in another two hours, and he knows how long Eddie will want to stay. “I’ll even let you play that noise you call music for the drive, if you behave.”

Eddie squawks indignantly, catching him right before the door to lay another kiss, this one longer, more indulgent. His lips dry, but so soft. “You’re gonna let me pick the music anyway, aren’t you, Steve?”

As if there were any question at all.

🛋️🛋️🛋️🛋️🛋️

[secondwindsteve]

Steve: Is that not right?

[secondwindsteve]

Eddie thought he was dealing. Steve had other plans.

[secondwindsteve]

your hands up in my hair

written for the @steddiebingo hop into spring mini event & the round one main card | prompts: intimate & bandana | rating: g | wc: 802 | tags: set during season 4, missing scene, pre-relationship, flirting

read on ao3

When Eddie’s hair falls over his face for the hundredth time, he lets out a string of curses and brushes it back with so much force it tugs painfully on his scalp.

Only for his hair to immediately fall over his face again.

It’s not the hair that’s really bothering Eddie, even if it certainly doesn’t help that it keeps getting in the way while he tries to finish his shield. It’s just that as soon as Henderson went inside the RV with the other kids, everything that has happened in the last few days finally started catching up with him and it’s all just so much that Eddie’s hair might be the thing that’s gonna drive him straight into insanity.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He groans loudly when a curl tickles his cheek. He aggressively bats it away.

“You should tie it back.”

Eddie’s head snaps up to find Steve standing over him in his new War Zone clothes. He didn’t even notice when he approached– probably because his fucking hair was in the way.

“What?”

“Your hair. You should tie it back,” Steve says, gesturing at Eddie’s head. “Since it keeps falling over your face.”

Eddie quirks his eyebrow. “Have you been staring at me, Harrington?” He asks bemusedly.

Steve shrugs like it’s not a big deal but his cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “I’ve been keeping an eye on everyone. Last thing I want is another of my friends getting attacked by Vecna.”

“Friend, huh?” Eddie can’t help but tease, even if his heart jumps a little from Steve calling him that.

“Unfortunately, Munson.” He rolls his eyes but his cheeks turn even pinker. “So are you gonna listen to me?”

Eddie’s nose scrunches up. “I don’t know, man, hair ties always end up tangled in my hair and it hurts like a bitch to get them off.”

He thinks that Steve is going to drop it and go back to building his Molotov bombs but instead he narrows his eyes at Eddie, studying him in silence until–

“Can I try something?”

Warily, Eddie says, “You’re not gonna chop it off, are you?”

Steve lets out a snort. “No, man, I like it like this,” he says casually, and before Eddie can do more than squeak, he tells him to– “Stand up.” When Eddie sets the shield aside and pushes himself to his feet, Steve holds out his hand. “Give me your bandana.”

“Uh, why?” Eddie asks with narrowed eyes instead of reaching into his back pocket for it.

Steve huffs in annoyance– and reaches for it himself.

“Woah, Harrington!” Eddie screeches, trying to push Steve away. “If you want to feel me up, at least ask me to dinner first!” He protests but Steve is faster and when he draws his hand back, he’s holding Eddie’s bandana and there’s a smug smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s cheeks are firetruck red because that was his ass that Steve’s hand just brushed against.

“Come here,” he tells Eddie.

“Why? So you can cop another feel?” He huffs. It’s not that he would mind, he’d just prefer a heads up, that’s all.

“Eddie,” Steve says dryly, and with a sigh, Eddie steps closer so they’re standing toe to toe. “Stay still,” he instructs before he brings his hands up and puts them in Eddie’s hair.

Eddie holds his breath the entire time. Steve’s face is so close to him, his tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration, his fingers careful and gentle as he grabs Eddie’s curls so he can style them like he wants. The whole thing is just so intimate and Eddie’s stomach can’t seem to stop flip flopping around.

Finally, Steve steps back, his hands falling to his sides. “There you go.”

Eddie pats his head, shakes it a bit but no hair falls over his face this time, held back by the bandana that Steve tied behind his head. “Oh. Yeah, that’s better,” he says with a low chuckle. “How do I look?”

Steve eyes him up and down. “Like you're ready to kick Vecna’s ass.”

Eddie laughs. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Sure, man,” he says, and it seems like he’ll leave it at that, but then something flashes across his face and– “You should wear it like that more often.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in his face. “Y–yeah?”

“Yeah, I like it,” Steve says, bringing his hand up and twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “You look hot.”

With a wink and nothing else, Steve whirls around and jogs towards the RV while Eddie stands there and gapes like a fish.

He was wrong. It won’t be his hair what drives him to insanity, it won’t even be the monsters or the Upside Down.

It’ll be Steve fucking Harrington flirting with him.

[secondwindsteve]

Some Unrighteous Intention

Also on AO3.

A/N: I needed to write something fun and silly because I was getting a little stuck with the long fic I'm working on. @dame-zoom-a-lot came through with a delightful prompt for the "Fruit" square on my @steddiebingo card - "5 times when Eddie gets distracted by Steve's mouth around fruit (or vice versa) and 1 time when Steve finally forces Eddie to do something about it". If you're looking for something else to read that's fun and tongue-in-cheek, try Zooms' fic May He Reign.

The title is from "Nature Boy" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,679 Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Tags: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Post-Season/Series 04, Gay Disaster Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Getting Together, First Kiss, Heavily Sexualized Fruit, but no fruit actually involved in the sex

Summary:

Eddie regretted every choice he’d made that had brought him to this point. He wasn’t a man prone to regret. Not even the prolonged hospitalization and recurrent nightmares following Vecna had been enough to make him regret meeting and becoming enmeshed with the Party. But this. This was too far. He regretted it now. Because Steve Harrington was eating a strawberry. A wanton, juicy strawberry. His nimble fingers gripped the leaves and held the plump, red fruit against his parted lips. Lips stained red with the juice of the lucky fruits before this one. Lips Eddie had never particularly noticed before this very moment. Lips he now needed to feel against his own. Lips he knew he’d never be able to feel against his own. ================= OR, Steve terrorizes Eddie all summer by eating very sexy fruit very sexily.

Eddie regretted every choice he’d made that had brought him to this point. He wasn’t a man prone to regret. Not even the prolonged hospitalization and recurrent nightmares following Vecna had been enough to make him regret meeting and becoming enmeshed with the Party. But this. This was too far. He regretted it now.

Because Steve Harrington was eating a strawberry.

A wanton, juicy strawberry. His nimble fingers gripped the leaves and held the plump, red fruit against his parted lips. Lips stained red with the juice of the lucky fruits before this one. Lips Eddie had never particularly noticed before this very moment. Lips he now needed to feel against his own. Lips he knew he’d never be able to feel against his own.

Steve made an obscene slurping noise as he attempted to keep some rogue juice in his mouth. He failed, and it escaped, trickling down the perfect line of his throat.

A strangled wheezing noise emerged from Eddie’s throat.

“Dude, are you okay?” Steve asked, speaking around a mouthful of strawberry.

Eddie nodded, unable to form words.

Steve swallowed the bite and threw the stem to the side. “Is there something on my face? You’re staring.”

Eddie stood up suddenly from the ground and fled.

“Where are you going?” Robin grumbled as he nearly tripped over her foot.

“Gotta piss!” he managed to spit out through his extreme mortification.

“Robin, is there something on my face?” he heard Steve demand as he hurried away.

Eddie didn’t hear Robin’s response. He hurried off into the woods and leaned against a tree, attempting to calm down a very unruly portion of his anatomy. One that had, in fact, never reacted to Steve Harrington before.

He should never have come on this picnic. He hated the sun and the outdoors. Why had he let Robin talk him into it? This was a disaster. A catastrophe of epic proportions. He had a boner for Steve Harrington because of strawberries.

Steve probably didn’t even swing that way. (Well, Eddie’d had his suspicions during the Hargrove days, there had been some serious homoerotic tension there, but Steve had only ever dated women.) But even if he did, he was Steve! Muscular jock golden retriever boy! He wasn’t for the likes of Eddie Munson, freak of nature, deranged pitbull mutt boy.

Eddie took a few deep, cleansing breaths. He thought about his Aunt Muriel. That took his boner right out.

When he returned to the group, the strawberries were finished, and he could look at Steve again without carnal thoughts. Just a strange blip. Maybe he was attracted to the strawberries. He could handle that.

Eddie tried to forget about it, he really did. But he couldn’t look at Steve the same after that day. Every time Steve talked, Eddie’s eyes drifted to his lips and remembered the strawberry. He routinely got so distracted that he had to ask Steve to repeat himself. Steve was starting to get annoyed.

He noticed other things about Steve, too. The way he laughed when Robin or Eddie said something really funny, throwing back his head and cackling. The way he let Henderson and the other brats walk all over him, and always looked out for them, no matter how much he complained. The way he filled out his jeans so nicely, front and back.

Eddie couldn’t keep denying it – he had a crush on Steve Harrington.

The others had definitely noticed that something was up. He caught Robin squinting at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Nancy had smirked at him when she caught him staring at Steve at their last game night. Even Steve was giving him questioning looks.

“What are those?” Eddie demanded, pointing at a bowl full of what looked like large orange grapes. He was at Steve’s house, raiding his well-stocked kitchen before he picked up the kids for a D&D session.

Steve glanced over from where he was cooking something that smelled delicious (the man was a fucking cook, how was Eddie supposed to resist this?). “Oh. Those are kumquats.”

Eddie spat out the mouthful of Mountain Dew he’d just gulped down. “Excuse me?” Surely he hadn’t heard that right. Who would name a fruit so obscenely?

Steve gave him a weird look. “They’re little citrus fruits. You can just pop the whole thing in your mouth. Like this, see.” He grabbed one of them and shoved it into his mouth. His beautiful, pink mouth. With its moist lips. Just stuffing them full of jizz fruits.

“What?” Steve asked, mouth full of quats of the cum. His forehead was wrinkled in an unfairly adorable squint.

“That is a ridiculous name for a fruit,” Eddie managed to stammer.

“Oooh, I get it.” Steve’s face cleared. “Because of cum. Like, semen.”

“Yeah, Steve. Because of that.”

“I don’t think it’s named after that, though. They don’t taste anything like jizz. Here.” He pushed one into Eddie’s mouth, which had been stunned into opening by the idea that Steve Harrington knew what jizz tasted like.

Eddie chewed automatically. The taste was sweet at first, followed by a tartness once he bit through the skin. It was nice. And, yes, nothing like jizz.

“Like it?” Steve asked with a quizzical look. His thumb still rested on the edge of Eddie’s lips. Eddie wanted to bite it. He wanted to suck it into his mouth and taste the kumquat juices and Steve’s skin.

He stepped back instead, breaking the contact. “I need to be gone,” Eddie said with a slightly hysterical lilt to his voice.

“Dude, your bag!” Steve called after him. Eddie didn’t care. He ran.

“Jeff. I am telling you this in the strictest confidence. You must take it to your grave. No one can ever know.”

Eddie lay on his bed with an arm thrown melodramatically across his face as Jeff idly plucked at his guitar.

“Alright,” Jeff replied. He didn’t even sound interested. Rude. Although Eddie was pretty sure he’d used those exact words on Jeff at least ten times before, often about pretty trivial things, so he couldn’t totally be blamed for his lack of interest.

“I think I have a crush on Steve Harrington,” Eddie admitted with a moan.

“Oh. Well, yeah.”

Eddie moved his arm and sat up to glare at Jeff. “What do you mean, ‘well, yeah’? That’s all you have to say about this earth-shattering admission?”

“Eddie, it’s kind of obvious. You stare at him with heart eyes every time he comes to watch us practice. Even Gareth figured it out.”

Eddie threw a pillow at him. “You knew?” His outrage immediately turned to horror. “Do you think Steve knows?” Eddie collapsed onto the bed, arm back across his face. “Oh my god, what if Steve knows?”

Jeff patted him consolingly on the knee. “He probably doesn’t.”  That wasn’t very convincing.

“Why is this happening to me?” Eddie groaned. “I think I’m just gonna have to avoid him forever.”

“That’s going to be a little difficult. Considering we’re all going to Henderson’s birthday cookout at his pool in half an hour.”

“I’m not going,” Eddie announced.

“You have to. Dustin will be devastated if you don’t go. You wanna make that kid cry? You feel like explaining that to Mrs. Henderson?”

Eddie shuddered. The only thing scarier than seeing Steve Harrington right now was the thought of triggering Claudia Henderson’s protective maternal instincts.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie pushed himself up off the bed with a groan. “I can do this. I can be normal. As long as he doesn’t pull out any more cum nuggets.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The party was in full swing by the time Jeff and Eddie arrived. He scanned the raucous group in the pool, definitely not looking for Steve. He found Steve at the grill, cooking burgers without a shirt on. All that beautiful chest hair. All those delightful moles. On full display. It was upsetting.

Eddie collapsed in a chair next to Robin with a disgruntled huff.

“What’s got your goat today, Munson?” Robin asked.

Eddie sighed dejectedly. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Robin didn’t sound convinced.

Eddie did his best to ignore Steve’s manly physique and enjoy himself. It worked, sort of. At first. But then Steve made it incredibly difficult when he came to join the vigorous rough-housing going on in the pool. He kept touching Eddie. Like he had no idea what he was doing to him. He tickled him, he put him in a headlock, he grabbed him around the waist and dunked him underwater. Eddie had to put off getting out of the pool to pee for nearly fifteen minutes to avoid showing everyone the raging boner in his wet swim trunks.

Just when he thought things surely could not get any worse, the watermelon came out. Nancy had sliced a watermelon into wedges, and Steve dove right the fuck in. Eddie sat across the table from him and watched as Steve opened his mouth inhumanly wide to take a gigantic bite. Juice spilled out of his mouth and over his cheeks, running down his chin. He looked up and locked eyes with Eddie as he licked his lips, then took another bite. He held Eddie’s gaze as he spat the seeds out into a strategically placed bowl. One after another. His lips forming a perfect pucker with each spit.

Eddie wanted to lick the sticky juice off his face and neck and chest. He wanted Steve to spit at him. He’d never had a spit kink before. Where was this coming from?

Eddie stood up from the table abruptly, upending his chair, and ran into the house.

He locked himself into the bathroom and immediately plunged a hand into his swim trunks to wrap around his aching cock. He felt guilty for beating off in his friend’s bathroom, for beating off to thoughts of that same friend. But he’d been hard for the entire afternoon. He needed some relief or he was truly going to expire.

He used the precum leaking from his tip to smooth the glide as he stroked himself. He thought of Steve’s lips, covered in watermelon, covered in strawberry juice. He thought of the shape of them as he spit. As he bit down on a kumquat. He came with a groan, inhumanly fast, as he remembered that Steve knew what jizz tasted like.

Just as he finished washing his hands, a knock sounded at the door.

“Eddie, you alright?” Steve asked through the door.

Oh, this was too much. Surely Eddie could not be expected to just go out there and act normal around Steve right now.

“No, not alright at all. I’m having explosive diarrhea and vomiting and also bleeding out my ears, you should probably stay away.”

“Um. Shouldn’t you go to the hospital or something, if all that’s going on?”

“No. It’ll pass if you leave me alone. Go away.”

“Alright.” Steve sounded like he was holding back a laugh. The blackguard. A laugh, at Eddie’s made-up intense illness.

But thankfully he left Eddie alone, to slink out of the house in embarrassed confusion, leaving behind a very pissed off Jeff without a ride home.

The summer wore on, and Eddie’s crush unfortunately didn’t let up. He kept telling himself he was going to avoid Steve, but he never held himself to it. He spent a lot of time at Family Video bothering Steve and Robin during their shifts, enjoying the air conditioning.

That’s where he was one night in late July when Claudia Henderson dropped off a whole bag of fresh-picked peaches. Eddie stared in horror as Steve made a pleased noise and reached into the bag.

“I love peaches!” Steve crooned. “You like them, Eddie?” Steve held a peach out to Eddie, who took it on instinct. The fuzz felt soft against his hand. He squeezed lightly, enjoying the slight give indicating ripeness.

Eddie looked up into Steve’s glorious, shining face. Robin was somewhere deep among the aisles sorting tapes, so Eddie was alone with Steve. And peaches. Arguably the sexiest fruit. He was in deep shit. Eddie didn’t know if he was going to survive this. It might be what finally did him in.

Steve grinned at Eddie. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he would say Steve looked downright devious. But no. Steve was just pleased to have some peaches.

Steve raised a peach to his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and licked delicately at the fuzz. (Who licked the outside of a peach?) The depression in the side of the peach was facing Eddie.

Suddenly, all Eddie could think of were butts. Well, one butt in particular. A singular butt. Steve’s butt. How much he’d like to grab handfuls of that butt and squeeze, just like he squeezed the peach. He would lick the fuzz on Steve’s butt. Bite into those ripe globes.

Eddie was well aware that he was already breathing heavily. Steve opened his mouth, looking at Eddie the whole time, and bit into the peach. His eyes fluttered shut as the juices flooded his mouth, some trickling out the sides and down his chin. He made an obscene noise that could only be described as a moan. He opened his eyes again and stared at Eddie as his tongue darted out to lick the juice off his chin. Then he closed his mouth around the flesh of the peach again and sucked.

Eddie’s breath came rushing out with a sound like a deflating balloon. Steve ignored the noise. He took several more bites of his peach, just as wantonly as the first. There was juice all over his face, running down his chin onto his neck, pooling in the divot between his collar bones. Eddie twitched, using every muscle in his body to avoid throwing himself forward and licking up that pool.

Steve finished the peach in several more large bites. Eddie watched the whole thing, unable or unwilling to look away. Steve stuck the pit in his mouth and sucked on it hard.

“What the fuck is going on right now?” Robin asked from directly behind Eddie.

Eddie startled, letting out a little scream and falling off of the stool he’d been sitting on.

“Just eating a peach,” Steve said, all innocence. “Eddie, you didn’t even try yours.”

Eddie lay prostrate on the ground. He thought maybe he would never get up. Maybe he’d just die here, all the blood sucked from his brain by the raging hard-on he’d gotten from watching his friend eat a peach.

Robin poked him with her shoe. “Are you alright, Eddie?”

“No,” Eddie breathed. Robin stared at him. Steve poked his head over the side of the counter, face still covered in peach juice. Eddie closed his eyes against the sight. “I think I’m allergic to peaches,” he continued, pushing himself up off the floor. “I need to leave. Just the smell is making my airways close up.”

“You ate peaches last week.”

“Delayed hypersensitivity reaction. Gotta go. Bye.” He hustled for the door.

“Steve, that was disgusting. You’re ridiculous,” he heard Robin say as he let the door closed behind him.

August was fucking hot. The hottest on record. Though he’d vowed to avoid Steve at all costs after the peach incident, that had only lasted until the temperatures veered into the 90’s. After that, Eddie spent most of his free time at the Harrington house, availing himself of the air conditioning and pool.

It was too hot to even lay in the pool today. Even the air conditioning was barely cutting it. They lay on the floor in front of a fan in only their boxers. He had been too weak with heatstroke to even protest the disrobing, though not too weak to appreciate Steve’s chest hair. He flipped idly through a copy of Rolling Stone, trying to keep his eyes off of Steve’s tits, while Steve threw a baseball into the air over and over.  Thwack. Thwack.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably. “Do you have any, like, ice cream or anything? Popsicles? Something cold?”

Steve hummed to himself. “I don’t think so.”

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

Steve sat upright, stilling the baseball. “Wait! I have something.”

He stood and walked much too fast to the kitchen. It made Eddie sweat just to watch him move.

Eddie’s stomach dropped in sheer terror as he saw what Steve held in his hands as he returned – a banana. No. Not that. Anything but the banana. Eddie could survive all the other fruits, but not the banana.

Steve had a wicked grin on his face. Like he knew. He couldn’t know. Right? Absolutely not.

“They’re a bitch to peel when they’re frozen, but it’s basically like a popsicle.”

Eddie watched as Steve’s deft fingers grasped the base of the banana. He slid his hand up and down.

“Feels kind of nice,” Steve said. “Cold.” He twisted his hand in an absolutely obscene motion and hummed to himself. Eddie dropped the magazine down to his lap, hiding a situation that was becoming more embarrassing by the second.

Steve poked at the tip of the banana until it started to peel. He drew the ice-hardened peel away from the fruit, leaving a solid pale yellow rod directly in front of his mouth. He looked Eddie dead in the eye as he opened his lips and slowly slid the banana in.

He hollowed out his cheeks, sucking on it in a way Eddie had never seen someone do to a banana. He moved it in and out, bobbing his head on the banana.

“It’s cold,” he mumbled around the shaft – no, the banana! Bananas didn’t have shafts. “Feels good on my lips.” He pulled the banana all the way out and licked gently at the tip. “You ever sucked on a frozen banana?” he asked. Okay, Eddie was almost positive now that Steve wasn’t still talking about bananas. Eddie must have passed out from heatstroke. That was the only logical conclusion.

“Eddie?” Steve prompted. “You like bananas, right?”

Again, there was a whole fucking undercurrent to that question.

“Bananas are… good,” Eddie whispered.

Steve’s grin lit up the whole room. “Good. Glad we agree about bananas.” He sat on the floor beside Eddie and slid the banana back in his mouth. Eddie didn’t know where to look – at the sweat beading gloriously on Steve’s perfect hairy pecs, at his lips sealed around the frozen banana, at his intense brown eyes boring holes straight into Eddie’s soul.

Steve pulled the banana out of his mouth, a string of spit connecting it to his lips for a few moments before it broke. He held out the banana to Eddie.

“You wanna try?” he whispered. He was so close Eddie could feel the gust of his breath with each word.

The door banged open. Eddie screamed and scrambled away from Steve.

“Dingus!” Robin yelled from the foyer.

Eddie took the cowardly out. He stood up and ran to the door, leaving his shirt and pants in Steve’s living room. He paused only to slip on his flip-flops and grab his keys.

“Munson, what the hell!” Robin yelled as he shoved his way past her.

As he started up his van, he heard Robin scream, “A banana, Steve?! Jesus Christ.”

Eddie avoided Steve for a few weeks after the banana. He was a little disappointed that Steve let himself be avoided, but he tried not to dwell on it.

The heat finally broke in the last week of August. Eddie tentatively started hanging out with Steve again. No fruits were bandied about.

Eddie should have been relieved. He wasn’t sure his heart could handle another fruit-related incident with Steve. It might just burst like an overwrought rabbit’s heart. But he thought Steve had been trying to tell him something with that banana. Maybe? As the weeks ticked by with no more hints, he decided he was probably just reading too much into it.

So when the offer to go apple picking with the whole group came in early September, he didn’t automatically excuse himself like he would have in the days following the banana incident. Apples weren’t even sexy. They were a thoroughly unsexy fruit. And they’d be outside, with loads of other people around. It would be fine.

It wasn’t fine.

Every time Steve reached for an apple, his adorable sweater rode up, revealing a patch of tummy with a glorious little happy trail disappearing beneath his jeans. Jeans that were tight enough to remind Eddie, once again, that Steve was very well-endowed.

And Steve kept picking the highest apples in the trees. Like he was doing it on purpose. After grabbing a particularly juicy-looking specimen from on high, Steve brought it to his mouth and bit into it. Eddie realized he’d been dead wrong. Apples were sexy, when they were in the hands of Steve.

Steve sucked at the apple where he’d bit as juice spilled out. The way he pursed his lips was obscene. He licked the skin around his bite, cleaning up the errant juice, then licked his lips. Eddie wondered, if he covered himself in apple juice, would Steve lick him like that?

To preserve his poor rabbit-like heart, Eddie fled to another row of trees.

He successfully avoided Steve and his tummy and his apple-licking for the rest of the picking excursion. He was ready to jump into his van and flee after Nancy dropped them all off at Steve’s, but Steve pinned him with a pleading stare and asked, “Eddie, will you help me bring all the apples in?”

It was like being asked to play fetch by an adorable golden retriever. Eddie couldn’t say no. He wasn’t heartless. (Though he might be, soon, if Steve made his heart explode.)

“Alright,” Eddie said, his voice cracking. He grabbed one of the bags and walked straight to Steve’s kitchen, setting it down.

“There you go!” Eddie said. “See ya later.” He turned to leave. Steve stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I’m making pies. I could really use some help peeling and coring.” There was that pleading look again. Eddie was hopeless. He was lost. He was done for.

“Okay.”

He sat at the table like a man sitting down to his last meal before the electric chair. Steve handed him a paring knife. Eddie set to work peeling apples, doing his best to pretend Steve wasn’t even there – an almost impossible task, given Steve’s constant fidgeting. He wasn’t usually a fidgeter, that was more Eddie’s deal, but today he was wiggling in his chair like he had an itchy hemorrhoid.

“Dude, are you okay?” Eddie asked after Steve accidentally elbowed him in the arm for the fourth time. This time, Eddie had narrowly avoided gouging himself in the opposite hand with his knife.

“What? Yeah. ‘m fine.”

Eddie shifted his chair to move a few feet away from Steve. “Alright. Just gonna get out of the elbow zone then.”

Steve looked up from his apple and pouted. There was no other word for what happened to his face. It was a full-on pout. His lips turned down in a frown and his lower lip wobbled as his eyes got comically large and sad.

Guilt flooded Eddie’s system. “I can’t stay there! You’re going to make me knife myself!”

Steve schooled his features into a look of determination, picked up a slice of apple, and slowly and deliberately brought it to his mouth. He opened his lips wide, giving Eddie a thorough view of the soft pink inside of his mouth. He licked the apple slice, running his tongue along one surface, then along the opposite side. He closed his lips around it then slid it inside. All while maintaining direct eye contact with Eddie.

This was it. This was the moment Eddie was going to die. Slumped on the floor of the Harrington kitchen with a burst heart and a hard dick.

“I- I should go,” Eddie stammered, wanting to put off his inevitable demise just a little longer.

“No.”

The word was a command. Eddie froze halfway through pushing himself up out of his chair.

“Are you just not into me?” Steve demanded. “I know you’re gay, and I got the impression you maybe had a crush on me, so I thought I had a chance. But now I’m not so sure.”

Eddie thought he may have had a stroke. The words coming out of Steve’s mouth were English, and they theoretically made sense together, but Eddie couldn’t parse them.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention all summer,” Steve continued. “I’ve been so obvious that even Dustin caught on. I gave up after the banana thing because Robin told me I was being ridiculous and scaring you away. But I don’t know how else to do it.”

“What?” Eddie croaked.

Steve tilted his head to the side. He popped another apple slice into his mouth and chewed. Eddie watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, and thought more devious thoughts. “Wait, have you really not noticed?” Steve asked. “That I’ve been coming onto you this whole time?”

“You’ve been what?” Eddie replayed the various fruit-related incidents in his mind. He’d thought Steve was just like that – unknowingly sultry and flirtatious, an unaware wet dream of a man.

“Ever since I saw the way you looked at me with the strawberries. And, okay, I can understand how you might not have seen through the kumquats or the watermelon. But the peach? The banana? Come on, Eddie.”

“You were… hitting on me?” Eddie felt he needed to clarify. This needed to be explicitly stated for him.

“Think of it more as a temptation. But, yeah, with the eventual end goal of fucking you. Or being fucked by you. I’d go either way, long as it was with you.”

Eddie swayed to the side. He looked around the room to see if the others were all there, waiting to see how Eddie took the prank. He swayed so far to the side that he fell out of his chair.

“Fuck!” he yelped as his elbow and hip connected with the hard tile floor.

“Whoa, shit.” Steve knelt down beside him, a hand coming to his head to keep it from hitting the floor. “You okay?”

Steve’s hand was warm against his cheek. He moved it back, threading fingers into Eddie’s hair, then tilted Eddie’s head back so he could look into his face.

“You hurt?” Steve prompted again when Eddie stayed silent.

Eddie shook his head. His heart beat rapidly against his sternum. Could a rabbit’s heart burst from pure horniness? He hadn’t ever heard of that, just the fear thing, but it seemed theoretically possible.

“Can you tell me?” Steve whispered. “Did you really not know?”

Eddie shook his head again. “I didn’t,” he whispered back.

“And now that you do?”

Eddie gathered up all the courage in his little rabbity heart and surged forward. He grabbed two handfuls of Steve’s adorable sweater and yanked him close, pressing their lips together. A startled noise emerged from Steve’s lips as he froze for a moment, and Eddie wondered if he’d just imagined the whole conversation leading up to this point, but then Steve relaxed against him, and joined in the kiss as an active participant.

Steve’s lips tasted of apples. Eddie licked against them, savoring the taste. Steve opened his mouth and wound an arm around Eddie’s waist. Eddie pressed his tongue in as the apple flavor flooded his senses. He could smell it, and taste it, a tart sweetness exploding on his tongue.

Steve moaned and pressed Eddie back until he was laying on the floor with Steve draped half on top of him. It should have been uncomfortable, but Eddie just wanted more. Steve slid a leg between Eddie’s own. Eddie instinctively ground down against it, rutting his hard and aching cock against Steve’s muscular thigh.

Steve’s mouth moved from Eddie’s lips to his jawline and kissed the soft skin below his earlobe. He pulled Eddie’s earlobe into his mouth like a piece of fruit and bit down gently. Eddie moaned and ground his cock down harder on Steve’s thigh.

“Been waiting for this for so long,” Steve whispered, his breath tickling Eddie’s ear. Eddie laughed, an incredulous, shaky thing.

“You’ve been waiting for this? I’ve been dealing with inappropriate boners all summer.”

Steve sighed. “Should have said something sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Eddie agreed vehemently.

Eddie shifted so he could also get a thigh between Steve’s legs. He’d been thoroughly convinced of Steve’s attraction by now, but it was still shocking to feel Steve’s hard cock against his thigh. Eddie pressed his thigh up, drawing a shocked groan out of Steve. He swiveled his hips to rub his own cock harder against Steve.

Steve moved his mouth to the pulse point in Eddie’s neck. He licked over it, just like he’d licked the apple, and the banana, and the peach. He scraped his teeth against the delicate skin. He bit down lightly and sucked. It hurt in the best possible way.

Eddie’s hips began to move in a rhythm, rutting against Steve’s leg and letting his own thigh be used. Steve panted against his neck and reached a hand between them and thumbed at the button of Eddie’s jeans. “Want to feel you,” he muttered, his face hidden in Eddie’s neck. “Can I?”

“Yes,” Eddie whispered, barely more than an exhalation.

Steve deftly opened his jeans, with a dexterity that only a sexually experienced jock could manage. He slid his hand into Eddie’s boxers and wrapped it around his dick.

It was truly a miracle that Eddie didn’t come right then and there. More miraculous then his recovery after being eaten alive by monstrous bat creatures. His body was a wonder. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“This okay?” Steve asked, finally removing his face from Eddie’s neck and looking at him. His cheeks were colored with a pretty blush, and his lips were red and kiss-swollen. Eddie wanted to see this look on Steve every day for the rest of his life.

Eddie nodded. He touched two fingers to Steve’s jeans with a question in his eyes. Steve nodded.

Eddie opened his jeans with a lot less savoir faire than Steve had displayed, but he hadn’t had nearly as much practice. When his palm made contact with the warm, velvety skin of Steve’s cock, he thought he may have actually died from the horniness heart burst. Maybe this was heaven.

The head of Steve’s cock was wet, much wetter than Eddie ever got. Eddie used the precum to smooth the glide of his hand, squeezing and twisting as he pumped Steve’s shaft. Steve’s own hand caught on Eddie’s cock, friction getting in the way. Steve let out a frustrated huff.

“Here, let’s try something,” Eddie mumbled. He removed his hand from Steve’s pants, earning himself a pathetic whimper that sent a thrill through his whole body. They’d definitely have to revisit that at a later time. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock, then shoved at Steve’s. Steve got the message, pulling his own down.

Eddie lined their cocks up side-by-side. His hand didn’t fit all the way around both of them, but Steve brought his hand down to join him. Together, they could envelop both cocks. Eddie began to move his hand, spreading Steve’s ample precum down both of their shafts. Steve moved with him.

The feeling of Steve’s cock pressed against his own was unlike anything Eddie had ever experienced. He’d seen people do this in gay porn he’d found in a sex shop in Indy, but had never tried it himself. The skin of Steve’s cock was so smooth and warm against his own.

Steve leaned his head back down to kiss Eddie. It was filthy and wet, Steve’s spit still laced with the taste of apples. Eddie was going to have a Pavlovian response to apples from here on out. Apples would be a danger to him.

The movement of their hands in tandem was awkward at first, but eventually they got into a rhythm. Steve’s mouth against his, Steve’s cock against his, Steve’s chest against his. Steve everywhere. Warmth pooled in Eddie’s pelvis. He didn’t even have time to warn Steve before an orgasm rushed over him. Wave after wave of pleasure crested through his body as he spilled into their joined hands.

Steve bit down on Eddie’s lower lip hard enough to hurt, as his hips stuttered and he joined Eddie in his release. They both kept moving, slowly and out of sync, as they came down from their orgasms.

Their foreheads pressed together. Steve panted into Eddie’s mouth, his eyes still closed. Eddie watched the movement of his eyes beneath the lids, darting back and forth. There was a mole on the bridge of his nose, just to the side of the corner of his eye. Eddie wanted to learn all of Steve’s moles. Wanted to have them memorized. Wanted to kiss each one.

Finally, Steve’s eyes fluttered open. He smiled at Eddie, shyly. Like he hadn’t spent the last four months terrorizing Eddie with sexualized fruit.

“So. That was nice,” Steve mumbled. He looked unsure of himself.

Eddie let out a high-pitched, deranged laugh. “Nice? Nice, he says. Stevie, that blew my fucking mind.”

Steve’s shy look turned into a wide grin as his blush deepened. “Yeah? You don’t regret it?”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s chin with his hand and held his face still while he looked him in the eyes. “I have never regretted anything less.”

“Good,” Steve said with a sigh and a nod. “Great. You wanna go on a date sometime?”

“I’d love to. I hear there’s a really nice pumpkin patch in Fernville. We could broaden our horizons, switch to vegetables.”

Also on AO3.

All dividers by @/saradika-graphics, except the banana divider, which is by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[secondwindsteve]

So everyone already knows about this parallel, right

Now I give you this :3

[secondwindsteve]

Everlong by Bettyfrommars

@bettyfrommars

Rating: Explicit

5.9k words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tags: 18+Only, smut, older!eddie, older!steve, unprotected anal sex, first time experience, oral m/m, anal play, rimming, fingering, no Vecna, deep feelings, mention of porn and of an orgy, creampie, but it's also very fluffy, Eddie has had a crush on his best friend for a long time

Summary:

It's the mid-late 90's in Hawkins, Eddie and Steve are both in their 30's, and have recently moved back after several life upsets. Eddie has his own trailer across town, and that is where he offers to let Steve stay for a week, and old feelings resurface.

This is a MOD rec as a part of our Fic Fridays.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[secondwindsteve]

Everlong

part 1: hello, I've waited here for you

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

18+Only, smut, older!eddie, older!steve, unprotected anal sex, first time experience, oral m/m, anal play, rimming, fingering, no Vecna, deep feelings, mention of porn and of an orgy, creampie, but it's also very fluffy, Eddie has had a crush on his best friend for a long time. wc: 5.9k

It's the mid-late 90's in Hawkins, Eddie and Steve are both in their 30's, and have recently moved back after several life upsets. Eddie has his own trailer across town, and that is where he offers to let Steve stay for a week, and old feelings resurface.

author's note: There will be 2 parts to this. I fully intended to work on something Halloween themed, but then the inspiration for this happened. Just goes to show how my mind doesn't like to be told what to do.

"If everything could ever be this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I'll ever ask of you You've got to promise not to stop when I say when..."

-- Everlong, Foo Fighters

Steve’s week-long stay with Eddie was half over, and Eddie felt that reality sink his heart as he opened the door to his trailer.

“Honey, I’m home,” he announced with a spring in his step.

He lived in a trailer park across town now, it was double wide, and felt like a luxury after all of those years he spent crowding in with Wayne.  He missed the old man though and went over to Forest Hills every couple of days to visit. 

He never thought he’d be back in Hawkins a decade after high school, but he’d dropped everything to move to Indianapolis for a girl he was seeing, and then got his heart shattered a year later. 

Coming back to his hometown felt a bit like failure, but it also felt safe. He still had good friends there, and he didn’t want to be alone anymore.  Working as a welder at the local fabrication shop was not his dream job, but it paid the bills, and he was comfortable. He even got to play a show with his old band every now and then.  

He put the Chinese take out on the island between the kitchen and the living room and called Steve’s name again.  But then he caught sight of the piece of paper on the coffee table:

 “Went for a run. BRB.”

The note made Eddie grin and feel all goofy, like somehow that small courtesy was such a huge act of love.  He hadn’t been treated very well by his partners over the years, and that revelation stung him in moments like that.

Steve had also done the dishes, and the living room was spotless and organized.  The ashtray on the coffee table had been dumped out and cleaned, all of the Guitar World magazines stacked neatly.  When he opened the fridge to grab a beer, he found that they were all lined up in a row.  Eddie kept telling him he didn’t have to do any of that, but Steve said that if he didn’t stay busy, he’d go crazy, and Eddie respected it.  

Steve Harrington and Eddie had remained best friends, even through the years and the distance and the failed relationships.  It just so happened that Steve was at the tail end of a very messy divorce, and needed a place to crash now that he was back from Chicago.  His ex-wife had managed to take him for every penny he had, so Eddie was quick to offer his place after he joked about having to sleep in his car (it wasn’t a joke).

Eddie played the message blinking on his machine to find that it was from Robin.  She’d also moved back to Hawkins recently, but she worked 50 hours a week, had two roommates, and was dating a woman from another town, so they didn’t get to see each other as much as they’d like.  The three of them had a bowling date set for that coming weekend, and it gave Eddie the warm fuzzies to think about them all being back together again.

Eddie was in the shower with his dick in his hand, stroking it, when Steve burst in.  “Hey man,” the intruder grabbed something from the medicine cabinet, and then braced his hands on 

the sink before splashing some water on his face. “God damn, I am out of shape.  That was rough.”  Steve coughed a few times and then wiped his face on the nearby towel.

He couldn’t see Eddie through the dark blue curtain, but had he heard him? There was a possibility that Eddie had been talking to himself, thinking about Steve, and grunting a little as he got himself hard.

“Food smells good,” Steve added as he walked back out into the hall, but left the door wide open. “I’m starving.”

Nah, he hadn’t heard anything.

“I got those weird noodles you like,” Eddie shouted over the sound of the shower.  “And sweet and sour chicken.”  Steve didn’t have to tell Eddie what he wanted from the restaurant down the street; Eddie always paid attention to those things.  

“Hey, leave me some hot water,” Steve was in the doorway again.  “Or should I just get in there with you? Save some resources?” 

“Not unless you want to soap my balls, Harrington,” and then Eddie threw his fist against the curtain.  “Get out, and shut the fucking door, you creep.”

—-------

After dinner and a beer on the porch, the boys retired to their respective positions on the couch while Eddie rolled a joint.  The movie Ghostbusters was on TV, but it was interrupted by a string of commercials, and Steve tucked his foot under him on the opposite end of the couch while he watched Eddie lick the paper.

“Okay if I have a drag?” Steve asked, resting his cheek on his knuckles.

Eddie snapped a look at him and raised his eyebrows.  “Oh, hell yes.  You think you can handle it?” The metalhead sat back, rolling the piece between his fingers, and then he wet one end and grabbed his lighter.  

“I can handle whatever you can handle, Munson.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Harrington,” Eddie smirked and took a stiff inhale before passing it to his friend.  

Steve’s ex-wife had insisted on a very straight-edge lifestyle, and he hadn’t had a whiff of weed in almost 3 years, so he took a cautious pull.

And then he coughed, and banged his chest, and spittle flew from his wet lips. 

“Damn, alright,” Eddie hummed.  “I take it back, you are a badass.”

“Shit,” Steve could feel the drug seeping into his bloodstream and his senses.  “Feels good. Feels kinda…tingly.”

“Ahh if only to have your tolerance again,” Eddie mused, taking another long drag. The show came back on, and the Ghostbusters were checking out the slime and stacks of books in the library.  

They watched a few minutes of the movie while Eddie continued to smoke.  He offered it to Steve again, but he passed.  

“Hey, do you remember that one time we watched a porno together?” Steve just blurted it out from nowhere, completely unprompted.

Still, Eddie knew exactly which porn he was talking about, and the exact night that it happened.

“I think so,” Eddie tapped his ash out. “Maybe.  Were we at my old place?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on the screen.  “It was the summer you graduated, and Wayne was at work and you were like ‘hey Steve, wanna watch some vampire ass fucking?”

Eddie scoffed.  “Shut up, that is not what I said.”

“Well,” Steve was clearly exaggerating, chuckling to himself.  “That’s what they were doing.”

The movie was called, “Bloodsucking Orgy” and it was a bisexual vampire porn.  But the actors were wearing fake, plastic teeth, and the cheap makeup dripped off of their faces as they fucked, but it was some of the hottest shit Eddie had ever seen at the time.  

What Steve didn’t tell him was that he had to pull over to jerk off in his car that night, not only thinking about the raw breeding on film, but the way Eddie had palmed himself over his jeans, clearly aroused.  That was the first night, all those years ago, when Steve had first questioned his sexuality.  

“I had that vhs with me for a long time,” Eddie held in a tight breath and then released a large plume of smoke. “It was under my bed in a box for years, but I think my ex took it.”

“Trevor?” Steve asked, thinking of the last boyfriend that Eddie had introduced to him that he didn’t like.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t approved of any guy or girl Eddie had dated in a long while; In Steve’s mind, no one was good enough for his best friend.  

“Nah,” Eddie lowered his chin, shyly.  “I only dated him for like, a week. It was barely a handjob.  I’m talking about Jake, the one with the mohawk.”

“The guy who juggled bowling pins at the fair?” Steve rolled his eyes.  “I swear, you know how to pick them, Munson.”

Eddie squinted across the couch at his friend as another commercial came on.  Maybe the weed was a little stronger that night but, was Steve…jealous?

Steve stole a long glance at Eddie when he got up to use the bathroom, taking in the curve of his muscles under the thin white Hanes of his t-shirt and the arc of his resting cock under his sweats.  

They watched a bit more of the movie, speaking the lines to the parts they knew by heart. 

“I’m going to miss this when you go,” Eddie muttered.

Steve’s apartment would be ready by Monday, and Eddie was dreading the lonely nights when Steve wasn’t there on the couch with him.  

“I’ll be just down the road, man,” Steve assured, taking a sip of his beer.  “I thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair, so you could get back to your bachelor pad life.”

Eddie figured Steve was just confused, so he decided to jog his memory.  “I haven’t so much as gone on a date with anyone in almost a year.  This is hardly a rockin’ bachelor pad.”

For some reason, this gave Steve a sense of relief.

Ghostbusters ended and Eddie told Steve to wait right where he was, as if he’d go anywhere, since the couch was also his bed.  

When Eddie sauntered back from the dark hallway, he was carrying two black, clamshell vhs covers.  They were blank on the outside, with no words on the spine, and Steve knew exactly what they were, even from far away.

“Let me guess,” he raised his eyebrow.  “Bloodsucking Orgy Part 2?”

Eddie chuckled. “Close! No, but they are just as bad.”

Steve adjusted himself in a way that made Eddie look over his shoulder as he put the tape in the vcr.  “You okay with this? I figured…for old time’s sake?”

“Sure, yeah, why not?” Steve ran his fingers through his hair a few times and adjusted the collar of his tee because suddenly he felt very hot. 

To say that Eddie was testing Steve would be wrong.  Eddie had no idea that the events in Bloodsucking Orgy had been a bit of a sexual awakening for his friend.  

The actions in the movie would turn Eddie on, sure, but he could control himself for a few minutes if it meant being able to get a laugh at the way Steve’s face twisted up at the ridiculousness of it all.

The credits came on to let you know that this was a “Two Dicks, One Hole Production” and the boys clapped.

There was about 3 minutes of what you’d call “plot” where a bunch of zombies stormed inside this woman’s house while she was having a tupperware party, and then they were suddenly all compelled to have sex.

“Look out, Scorsese,” Steve bubbled a laugh into the palm of his hand.  

Eddie clucked his tongue. “No one appreciates good cinema these days.”

One zombie had its head between a woman’s legs on the table while one of her friends squatted down on her face and rode her tongue.

Some of the husbands came by to rescue their wives, but then they ended up getting dicked down as well.  It was all purely entertaining at first, but all of a sudden, Steve felt his cock twitch.  He palmed himself over his boxers, and looked over to find that Eddie was doing the same thing.

Eddie glanced over and caught Steve staring at him while he touched himself and suddenly, he wasn’t at all interested in the movie anymore.

“Why does it--” Steve started, swallowing hard. "Why does it always look like it feels so good?"

“What?” Eddie rested his head on the back of the couch.  “Being attacked by a flesh-eating zombie?”

“No,” Steve nibbled at his lip.  “When they put it…in their ass…like that.  The dudes I mean.”

Eddie couldn’t even hear the sound from the tv anymore, his ears were ringing.  “Because it does feel good. Usually. When the right cock is in your ass it feels fucking amazing.”

Steve’s breath hitched at the tone of Eddie’s voice. “You like the feel of it, don’t you?”

Eddie couldn't help himself; he cupped his balls under the blanket. “Yeah, um, I do.”

“I’ve wondered about it,” Steve admitted in a whisper, sliding a hand down slowly to palm himself over his jeans.  He was getting hard and needed the friction. “I've wondered what it would feel like. I think I might like it.”

“You do?” Eddie’s voice squeaked.  

Was this really happening? Was Steve just shooting the shit? Or was he trying to throw clues down? If so, how should he handle it? He’d masturbated to this scenario so many times in his life but had no idea how he would make his move in real time.  

Steve hadn't planned this. He'd had thoughts about Eddie before, sure, but he never imagined he'd do anything about it while he was staying at his place. How embarrassing would it be if his friend rejected him? He had to play it cool so he could make it out like he was kidding if that happened.

With a surge of adrenaline, Steve scooted closer, and his friend met him in the middle of the couch.  

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Steve’s eyes searched the other pair of chocolate orbs, and they were so close now, Eddie’s pulse was skyrocketing.  “I don’t want this to make anything weird between us.”

“I’m fine with it if you are,” Eddie mumbled.  There was a voice in his head screaming at him not to miss his chance. He pinched the front of Steve’s shirt.  “We could experiment, if you want? What are best friends for?”

Eddie knew there was a platonic best friend line in the sand that was about to be crossed, and it could never be uncrossed, but the way Steve was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes made him not care one single goddamn bit.  

He’d do anything for Steve. Even if it meant he was just another “experimental experience” for a straight guy. 

Steve leaned in for a kiss, and as much as he wanted it, Eddie pulled his head back.

“Say it,” Eddie muttered.

Steve squeezed himself through his boxers and frowned, confused.  “Say what?”

Eddie moved in close again, brushing Steve’s lips with his.  “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Steve choked on the words at first, and then he told Eddie what he needed to hear.

Their mouths met in a frenzy of clumsy tongues and cries, and then they made their way to the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they went.  

It wasn’t long before Eddie was naked next to Steve on the bed, pushing a lubed finger inside him one knuckle at a time.  “Is that okay?” He kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth. His friend’s eyes were closed, but Eddie’s were wide open—he didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Yes—fuck,” Steve squirmed, but his hips were moving down, needing Eddie deeper.  He gripped Eddie’s back with one hand, and the other came up to fist his own length where it throbbed.

Eddie moved his head down, his hair dragging along his companion's chest. “Let me,” he mumbled.  Steve held it at the base so that the metalhead could take the swollen, leaking tip into his mouth. Now he was twirling his tongue around the head and fucking his finger inside of his best friend.  He savored the taste of the salty tang, making lewd noises as he sucked and swallowed.

Eddie’s mouth was magic, and Steve was hiccupping erotic sighs.  “Tell me again, why did we wait this long?” He chuckled, and Eddie smiled around the gift in his mouth, both of them caught in mutual disbelief and bliss.

“You feel that?” Eddie came up for air long enough to ask, pupils blown, rubbing deep onto Steve’s prostate with purpose.

“Yeah, I feel it,” Steve shuddered.  He bent his knees up and placed his feet on the mattress so that he could arch his pelvis up to give better access.  “I think...I think I need more,” he breathed.

Eddie chanced a look up at his friend: his head was back, throat exposed, and–oh shit— he loved seeing what he was doing to him.  The way that he was the one giving Steve Harrington this much pleasure, to be the one to make him unravel.  

The second finger went in, stretching him, and Steve’s muscle squeezed around Eddie’s digits so tight, it made his cock ache to take their place.  The phalange in question was tucked against Steve’s hip, aching, and he rutted it there a few times, leaving a snail trail of juice on his partner’s skin.

“Move this leg,” Eddie advised, and Steve licked his lips, watching every move, hoping to god that he did not stop fucking him.  He was switching positions now, getting in between Steve’s thighs.

Steve used the slick from Eddie’s saliva to work the tip of his cock a few times as his eyes roamed the wash of tattoos over his friend’s sinewy muscles, and the guitar pick necklace that swayed against his chest.  

“Does this feel okay?” Eddie buried the second finger in and scissored them to stretch out Steve, feeling the resistance throb in his own balls.

Steve winced with a hiss, and Eddie’s hand stilled, but then Steve’s eyes snapped open. “It feels a little awkward, but don’t stop.” 

Eddie was quick to lower his head to take over the tending of Steve’s huge member, making his friend moan long and hard.

When he looked down at the top of Eddie’s head, and the way his arm moved in and out between his legs, listening to the soft, wet, sucking sounds, Steve started to have some real feelings. 

They were feelings he was afraid to think, let alone say out loud.

“I-I think need you inside of me, Eddie,” Steve managed.  “I really do want to feel it.”

Feel it from you, specifically is what he almost added.

Eddie rose up, staring into Steve’s eyes as he took his fingers out to put the head of his dripping cock against the slip of Steve’s hole, rubbing it up and down.  “Are you sure? It's kind of a big deal.” Eddie mumbled. “Plus, I’m not going to last long.”

“Me neither,” Steve blinked a few times, liking the way Eddie bit his bottom lip and searched his face.

Eddie’s heart was about to explode in his chest.  He imagined bits of his heart and cum sprayed everywhere when his strewn body parts were found the next morning.  

After a few moments of working the tip through and moaning at the way his hole sucked him in, Eddie leaned forward and pressed into Steve, spreading him open, letting him give a silent scream into his mouth. Eddie braced his partner’s hips, trembling at the sensation as he clenched around him.

Once he sank all the way in, Eddie intertwined his fingers with Steve’s above his head and began to move.

“The way you’re gripping me—holy shit,” Eddie murmured against his mouth.  “Does that feel okay?”

“It feels…really good,” Steve hushed. “Don’t stop.”

Steve’s bent legs were up now, and Eddie was thrusting against him, deep and hard, unable to hold back the emotions that drove his movements.  Steve’s body bent so that his stomach wrinkled as Eddie found a mouth-watering pace, his guitar pick swinging in the air.

Foreheads pressed together, Eddie said, “wrap your legs around me,” and that’s when it happened; that’s when Steve could feel the coil snap in his stomach as Eddie drove into him with purpose.

Eddie grabbed a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled tight, yanking his head to the side, making him whimper.

“Cum inside me, Eddie—” Steve cried.

Eddie gave a strangled gasp at his words, because he was close, but it didn’t take long to slide one hand between them to find Steve’s leaking tip to help him along. 

“I can't believe this is happening,” breathless, Eddie was pounding him now, and neither one of them cared if the wet slapping sounds could be heard next door.  

It was all Eddie could do not to declare his love then; to tell Steve that it had always been him, and it would be him forever after.  “I’m so in love with you,” he wanted to say, and the thought alone made his orgasm rise. 

The way Eddie made him feel so full would have been enough, but then his friend’s strong, calloused hand was yanking at his cock and Steve began to convulse under him.  “Oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.  Eddie, I’m cumming!”

First of all, did Steve just call him baby? 

But then there was no time to consider it because there were warm explosions of his release shooting between them, and Steve’s muscle gripped Eddie’s length over and over, milking him.

The way Steve cried out made Eddie’s movements erratic as he emptied himself, scooting closer, and bending his friend more in half to get deeper, to keep pumping with each aching grunt.  

Eddie babbled a few curses as everything got slippery and he could feel his seed leaking out between them.

Once they both came down from their highs, Eddie pulled himself out of Steve and kissed his knee before shimmying off the bed.

Steve looked down at himself, at the spray of jizz that began to pool in his belly button and noticed the sensation of Eddie’s release dripping down his ass.  “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Hold on, I got it,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth, brushing hair out of his face, and Steve watched him climb onto the bed to nestle between his thighs again.  His cock was still half-hard, bobbing in the air as if it were already preparing for another round.  

Eddie had the wet rag ready, but then the cum glistening on Steve’s stomach gave him other ideas.  

“Are you giving me all that sweet aftercare now?” Steve scoffed.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows before bending down to lap at Steve’s bellybutton with his tongue.  “You’re my guest.”

The feeling of his friend’s tongue dragging along his sensitive flesh was about to make Steve erect again, and he writhed at the sensation, eventually scooting further away, up against the headboard.  Eddie watched him go, not sure what he’d done wrong, and passed him the washcloth.  

Steve was having a hard time looking at his best friend now.  Maybe because it had been the best orgasm of his life? Maybe because the past hour had made him question everything he thought he knew about himself? 

He didn’t know what to do with the towel when he was done, so he handed it to Eddie, and he tossed it to the ground with a flop.  

Eddie was about to move up next to Steve to kiss him, or at least sit next to him, but instead Steve got up off the bed and bent down to put his boxers on.  

“So, does this mean—” Steve stammered, keeping his back to Eddie.  “Does this mean that I—that I’m a bottom?”

Eddie was about to chuckle as he stretched long on the mattress and put his head in his hand, but then he realized Steve was asking a serious question.  

“Did you enjoy it?” Eddie asked, cautiously, playing with his bellybutton.

“Um, yeah,” Steve bent down to pick up his shirt.  “Obviously I did.”

That response elicited a quiver of a smile from Eddie, putting parentheses on either side of his mouth.

Eddie exhaled a long breath and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.  “It means…whatever you want it to mean.  I’m not one to really care for labels.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve nod, taking in the information.  He went to sit at the edge of the bed, fully clothed now, and Eddie ran a hand down his chest, thinking of his next words.

“We could always try it…the other way,” he said it so nonchalantly, and it made Steve turn his head, curiosity piqued.

“The other way?”

“You know,” now it was Eddie averting his eyes.  “You could fuck next time, if you want.  If you want to try it, I mean.  See if you like it.”

“Next time, huh?” Steve ran a hand up and down his face. “I don’t know, man, this is —kinda blowing my mind right now.”

“I get it,” Eddie could feel a familiar heartache rising in his throat.  “We could just forget this ever happened, if you want.”

There was a heavy silence then, thick and weighty with the fear of the unknown.  

“No, I don’t want that,” Steve whispered.

Eddie lifted his head up.  “You don’t?” His voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat and sat up to brace his elbows behind him.  

Steve stood and put his hands on his hips before turning to his friend again.  He raked his fingers through his hair.  “I want to keep doing this,” he muttered.  “But I don’t know what that means.”

“Hey,” Eddie scooted himself down so that he was sitting close to where Steve was standing, legs off the bed, and looked up at him.  “We’re the only ones allowed to define this…whatever is happening between us. No one else.”  

And the next thing he knew, Steve surprised himself for the second time that night, by going over to stand in front of Eddie.  He brushed a few strands of his outdated bangs off of his forehead and Eddie closed his eyes to bask in the attention.  

But his eyes opened when he felt Steve lower his head and grab onto Eddie’s shoulders.  His mouth was so close now, and their noses slotted together.  “I think I need to kiss you again,” he hushed.

Eddie’s hands went to the hips of Steve’s shorts, making fists in the material; he could feel himself getting aroused again already.

“You better fucking do it then, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled.

Once their lips met, tongues were quick to follow, and then they were crashing into the kiss and Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck.  He had so many questions, and so many concerns about what this would look like to the outside world, to his friends and estranged family.  But, in that moment, nothing mattered more than getting as close to this person he loved as he possibly could.

He wanted to be inside of him.  

Eddie dropped to his knees and took Steve’s boxers with him, making Steve throw his head back once he was back inside Eddie’s warm mouth. 

Eddie pulled back to spit on the head, connecting a string of saliva to his mouth when he looked up to stare into his companions' eyes.  

“So it's okay,” Steve told the man on his knees. "If I try it inside of you?"

Eddie’s moan was full of yearning.  Eddie sucked his finger and then snaked it back to push the tip into Steve’s clenching muscle while he gave kitten licks to the freshly juiced pre-cum.  

Steve jumped. “Fuck, baby—I'm not used to having things up there,” he barked a laugh.

Eddie’s smile was huge—-holy shit, he was so in love—-but then he stood to full height and grabbed Steve by the throat to kiss him. 

Steve found his partner's rock-hard length and began to roll back the foreskin with a firm grip.  He had no idea what he was doing but decided to go with whatever felt right.  “Bend over,” Steve told him, taking a fist full of his hair. “Get on the bed.”

Steve’s tone made Eddie clench, and his balls were preparing for duty again.

Steve stepped out of his boxers and took his shirt off, keeping his attention on Eddie’s ass, and the way it was on full display for him now.

“The lube is in the—” Eddie started, but Steve silenced him with a “shush”.

“You’re a big boy, Harrington,” Eddie continued.  “I don’t want to get ripped open toni—-”

But then big hands were spreading his cheeks apart and an eager tongue was dancing around his asshole.  

Eddie pushed his hips back and the tongue dove inside. “Does that feel good?” Steve asked in between licks.  

“Fuck yes,” Eddie breathed.

With that new burst of encouragement, Steve slid his thumb in, making his partner shiver.  

Steve considered the logistics of it all for a moment, and then: “Can you get on your side?”  

He moved into position without question.  Steve didn’t have the nerve to say it, but he wanted to see Eddie; he wanted to be able to look at his face when he came.  When they were both ready, Eddie rubbed the lube on his friend’s generous length, and then Steve squirted a bit on that pink, puckered spot, and Eddie yelped at the cold sensation.

More low chuckles, more tender laughter.

Eddie watched over his shoulder at the way Steve was concentrating as he lined the tip up.  His best friend was so fucking beautiful, and he hoped to god it wasn’t a dream. Steve straddled Eddie’s bottom leg, while his top bent to the side, twisting at his hip.  

Steve stammered a few curse words when he sank in an inch, halting.  “Oh shit, I had no idea how good this would feel.”

“Don't you dare stop,” Eddie whined into the pillow.  

Steve groaned long and hard with each thrust, pushing himself in, taking his time, and then pulling out a bit until his hips were almost flush with Eddie’s ass.

“You like it when I stretch you out, don’t you?” 

Eddie’s jaw went slack, and he reached down to touch himself, rutting into the mattress.

Steve buried himself inside Eddie, spreading his cheeks apart to watch.  “Tell me I’m the only one who fills you up like this.”

“You’re the only one,” Eddie was whimpering now, trembling with lust and love.

Steve was snapping his hips then, pounding Eddie just the way he wanted.  The sounds escaping both of them were egging each other on, and Steve held Eddie’s leg up to get a better angle.

“It’s never felt this good,” Steve blurted.  “Look at me.”

Eddie turned his head to meet his partner’s hooded gaze, sweaty hair sticking to his cheek.  What if he said, “I love you”? What then? Because it was right there on the tip of his tongue.  

“I’m so close, Eddie,” Steve’s movements stuttered a bit.  “I need to see you.”

It was only a few more seconds of that intense eye contact before Steve was losing every last bit of himself inside his friend, slapping their skin even harder together as warm wetness filled the space.  Steve’s toes curled on the mattress, and he threw his head back, holding onto Eddie's leg so that he didn’t fall over.  

Being inside Eddie, to share something like that with him, felt so right and so perfect, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

He flipped his partner over so that he was on his back, neglected cock straining against his tattooed stomach, and Steve bent over to put it into his mouth.

“Steve—!” Eddie was already about to blow his load before those soft lips were on him, but now his balls were tightening up close to his body. “I’m so close, I’m gonna—oh fuck!”

Steve nodded, humming on his friend’s swollen length as the salty spill poured over his tongue and he drank it down with eager swallows.  Eddie writhed, shaking as he came.  

They showered together again after that, and Steve found out about Eddie’s insatiable appetite when they jerked each other off one more time before they found sleep.  They were all a tangle of limbs and legs, hot breath against the skin of each other’s throats.

The next two days brought much of the same. They had dinner together when Eddie got home from work and held hands in front of the tv.  Until hand holding turned to touching and it was time for Steve to experiment being inside Eddie from a different angle.  They both lost count of the number of times they came inside of each other. 

Well, Steve lost count.  For Eddie, each one was precious and something he cherished.  

On the third day, while the Saturday morning cartoons were on, Eddie’s head was in Steve’s lap while he played with his hair and rubbed his scalp.  Eddie’s eyes were rolling back in his head, and he suddenly understood why cats purr.  It all felt so natural, hidden away there in Eddie’s cozy trailer with the curtains drawn, like the rest of the world didn’t even exist.

But then there came the sound of footsteps bounding up to the porch, and someone tried the door handle before offering a few quick knocks.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” The woman’s voice exclaimed.  “Open up, this is the police!”

Steve’s eyes bulged and he practically pushed Eddie to the ground, trying to cover himself with the blanket. He was wearing his boxer shorts, but it made him feel very exposed.

Eddie’s hair was a mess when he sat up, and he gave Steve a curious frown.  “What’s wrong with you? It’s just Robin.”

“I know,” Steve took a breath.  “It just startled me, that’s all.”

Eddie threw a pillow in Steve’s face and shouted, “coming!”

“No, no, wait!” Steve lurched up and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him back down to the couch.  

Eddie gave him a few confused shakes of his head.  “Are you losing it man? You knew she had the day off and might come over.”

“It’s not that,” Steve was whispering.  “I want to see her I just—did you tell her…does she know…about us?”

Eddie’s face sobered.  “When would I have a chance to tell her? I’ve spent every free second with you.”

“Okay good,” Steve’s shoulders sank, showing that he was clearly relieved.  “Let’s keep it between us, alright? I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Anyone…ever?” Eddie was searching his companion’s eyes, hoping to find that same glimmer from the past couple days there, but it was gone. He understood that coming out could be complicated and difficult, and he didn’t think Steve would be shouting it from the hills, but surely Robin could know? They were the three amigos, the best of friends.  If anyone would embrace him for exactly who he was and who he wanted to have sex with, it would be her.  

Maybe he just needed more time, and that was fine, Eddie had plenty of it.  

Robin knocked again, more forceful this time.  “What the hell? I’m growing mold out here.”

Eddie remained still, passing his tongue over his teeth, and thought about what Steve was asking of him.  

“I’m going to put some clothes on,” Steve got to his feet and jogged out of sight, to the bedroom, leaving Eddie to sit there, feeling the weight of being a secret, yet again.  

“Hey!” Steve hissed from the hallway where he struggled to pull his jeans on while Eddie walked to the door.  “Could you light a candle or something? It smells like sex in here.”

Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.  

Anything for you, King Steve.

-----

Hi! Thank you for reading! Always love hearing from you. Look out for part 2 🧡

[secondwindsteve]

(Please) Don't Be Good

He sees the sky first, more stars than he’s ever seen in his life. Even back in Indiana, he’d never seen so many stars. A milky-cream blanket that glitters and winks at him like it knows some big cosmic secret.

Inhaling slowly, Steve rolls his head away from that view onto the person beside him.

“Don’t scream,” his rescuer says before Steve has a chance to really process anything his eyes are routing to his brain.

“Why?” Steve asks. All he sees at first is the silhouette of a person, sitting in the sand with his knees drawn in, eyes and body facing the distant waves.

Then Steve starts to notice all the distinctly non-person things about that silhouette. Fins protruding from forearms and calves. Gray skin that fades into scales. There’s webbing between each finger and each toe.

“Oh,” Steve says.

“Yeah.”

Steve rolls his head back toward the stars, watches an orangey one pulse. “Weird dream.” Full story on Ao3

[secondwindsteve]

projecting the intensity of my affections onto one edward munson

[secondwindsteve]

my crush reblogged a "I love wearing this to make butches blush" type of post with a tag about her liking to do it on calls while gming, WHICH SHE DOES in our pathfinder games! exceeeeeppppt....

WHICH BUTCH!?! I don't even know if she's seen the posts where I call myself that! I think I'm just delusional and ?? apparently ?? completely unaware of someone else's reactions

[secondwindsteve]

we're just mutuals i get it but seeing my longtime mutual on main/personal not follow me back on bluesky but continue to post kinda hurts my feelings

[secondwindsteve]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May Mayhem Bingo event.

Despite All My Rage I'm Still Just a Rat In a Cage

Prompt: Locked Door | Word Count: 3335 | Rating: M | CW: Kidnapping/Hostages, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Injuries | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Steddie | Tags: Post S4, Future Fic, Famous Eddie, Teacher Steve, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Finding Themselves in a Predicament, Getting Together, With a Drastic Nudge

Also on ao3.

It's day three. 

At least, Eddie thinks today is day three. But he's not certain. Mainly because he doesn't remember how he got here in the first place. He went to bed, then woke up here, kidnapped and drugged. At least he assumes so, because things were fucking fuzzy at first, and now he's been stuck in this dark, dingy, slightly damp room. 

There's holes in the ceiling, letting beams of light filter through at certain times of day, but screaming for help hasn't seemed to produce any results. His throat is just scratchy and raw. Worse than playing a week of shows straight.

He never hears anything from outside. No street noise. No sounds of life.

Surely people are looking for him. His friends, his band. Wayne. The media, in general.

"Eddie," comes the voice over a crackling walkie talkie mounted out of his reach. The voice is disguised in some way, and sounds almost inhuman.

He's sick of the creepy disembodied voice. They never tell him anything. Just taunt him, trying to make him submit.

Never. He'll fucking never. He'll die first.

"Just kill me or let me go!" he screams, rolling over onto his knees, struggling to stand. If this was a ransom mission, it's gone on too long. He's not sure what the end goal is, just that he's being kept.

"Calm down," the voice says. "I have a present for you."

Eddie doesn't want anything from this asshole besides his freedom.

"Since you're so lonely. All those songs, all that pain, all that longing," he says, and Eddie doesn't know what the fuck they're talking about. He seems like a loner in public, but that's not true. Not outside of his stage persona.

He has a lot of people in his corner. 

The door starts to open for the first time, and Eddie's ankles are chained together, so he can't move fast, but he tries his best. There's no time. The door opens, a man with a burlap sack is shoved into the room, and then the door clangs shut again. Heavy locks turning. 

The guy is shoeless, only wearing a pair of shorts. His hairy chest on display, and he looks like —

No. No, no, no. 

Eddie reaches up and yanks the sack off his head, and lets out a pained whine. He shouldn't be here, and he put up a fight not to be, clearly. His nose is caked with dried blood, and his left eye has a painful looking bruise forming underneath it. 

Eddie's heart sinks. 

"Steve," Eddie says, taking a step closer, hands cupping his cheeks, "Harrington? Can you hear me?"

"Eddie?" Steve asks, and then just starts crying. Eddie's gonna kill whoever is responsible for this. It's one thing to snag him, with the hope of getting a payday or whatever. But invading Steve's life? Hurting him like this? That's unforgivable, and they will fucking pay if it's the last thing Eddie does.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, checking him over as best he can. They've done this before, after Vecna, and he hates that he has to do it again now. Steve never deserved another ounce of physical pain.

Steve shakes his head, and it was a dumb question. Of course he's not okay. 

"I went out to get the paper," he says, "I just stepped on my porch."

"I know," Eddie says, even if he doesn't. He has no idea how he was nabbed.

"They grabbed me."

"More than one?" Eddie asks.

"Yes. I think. I don't know. It had to be right?"

Eddie doesn't know, but he takes off his jacket, and moves to drape it over Steve's shoulders. He can't put it on better than that, not with his hands bound. But it's reminiscent of days gone by. Back when they were healing from that shitty Spring Break. When they both needed help to do lots of things for a while.

When he turns him, there's a key taped in the small of Steve's back, with a note. Eddie is gentle with the tape, not wanting to cause him any more pain. Though, he knows tape is nothing compared to what he's already gone through. 

The key is to the cuffs, he's sure of it. 

He frees Steve's hands, and then tries the lock on his own ankles, just in case it works for both.

It does. 

His raw ankles are grateful when the cuffs fall loose, but he's cautious when he unfolds the note. It's the ramblings of someone very out of touch with reality, and Eddie reads it three times trying to understand. 

His songs were too sad, and they wanted him to have the one thing he couldn't have?

And that's…Steve?

They've never, they're friends. Just friends. Old friends. And now they've both been taken hostage because someone musically illiterate they think Steve is the thing missing from Eddie's life.

Steve's in Eddie's life, and Eddie realizes now that's what caused this. Seeing them out and about, as friends, made this psycho snap for whatever reason.

This is all Eddie's fault, and he doesn't know how to deal with that.

They sit on the floor, and at least Eddie's convinced that Steve's okay, now. He looks better than he did when he was thrown into the cage. The door locking behind him. 

It's easier, having someone else in here with him, especially someone he knows as well as he knows Steve. He just wishes Steve wouldn't have gotten dragged into this, he's suffered enough bullshit over the years. He deserves his quiet life, with his classroom full of little kids that are surely missing him like crazy.

Eddie's not sure who will be the bigger news story: Famous Musician, who is a little rough around the edges or the All-American Teacher, who looks like Steve does. 

He wonders if their disappearances will be connected. If the media will even put together that they know each other.

Nancy will. Robin will. Henderson. Erica. The band. Taking Steve is going to throw up so many red flags that none of them will be able to ignore it. Eddie disappearing off the grid for a while? Maybe they could explain that away. Steve, though? No fucking way. 

This dude just fucked up, and Eddie laughs to himself. As much as Eddie hates that Steve's been dragged into whatever the fuck this is, involving someone as well-loved as Steve is gonna be the downfall for this asshole. Fucking good. 

"Tell me again how it happened," Eddie requests.

"I went out, and then I was grabbed. I fought them, took an elbow to the face," Steve says. He's told Eddie over and over.

"And they said sorry," Eddie says.

"They said sorry," Steve confirms. It makes no sense.

The door to the bean hole slides open and another bag of fast food is tossed in. It's scary how well they know him from their stalking. No matter what they drop off, it's something he'd order, customizations and all. 

When he opens these, they even got Steve's burger right. No tomatoes.

It's unnerving. 

Eddie's jolted awake by the speaker crackling to life. 

"If you'd just get on with it, you could go, you know?" he asks, and Eddie doesn't know what he's talking about. 

"What the fuck are you talking about? Just open that door and face us like a goddamn man, if you're so powerful. If you think you can take us. Try."

"That's not what this is," he says, voice steady, as if his feathers are never ruffled, "it's not about me. It's about you, both of you, making it right with each other."

Making it right with each other? They aren't fighting, they've never been fighting, not since Eddie's whole world turned upside down. Literally.

"We're good. Look at us? Are we fighting? You've made a mistake. Let Steve go. People are gonna be looking for him, and when they find you, you're gonna wish they didn't."

Eddie believes that fully. If they don't want to experience the full wrath of Nancy Wheeler, they'd better backtrack, fast. 

The speaker cuts out, and Eddie slumps back again. 

"Wheeler is looking for you," Eddie says, "Buckley. All of them. I know it."

Steve nods, "Yeah, probably. We knew you'd holed up somewhere, Wayne called. Looking for you, thinking maybe you'd decided to camp out with us for a while. He said he was getting the runaround from the boys and didn't like it. I mean, I didn't expect that this is what happened. I'm sorry we didn't round up a posse."

Eddie laughs, "I'm not mad you didn't assume I'd been held captive. That's quite the leap to make. We're experts in otherworldly things, not human monsters."

"Yeah, I guess," Steve says, and Eddie squeezes his thigh.

"They'll find us," Eddie reassures, and Steve just nods.

The sliding door to the outside, where the food is thrown in, is opened and closed again. Eddie hears it. And when he grabs the bag that thudded hard on the ground, it's not what he expected. Instead of food, there's a bottle of lube. 

"Is this a fucking joke?!" Eddie screams, "What's it for? For you to continue fucking us, for what?!"

The speaker crackles on, "I'm not gonna fuck you, you idiot."

"Then what—" Eddie starts, when Steve speaks up.

"It's for us. Right? You want us to…?" Steve asks.

"I knew one of you would be smart. I should have expected it to be the teacher, I suppose."

"You're a sick fucker!" Eddie shouts. They're friends. And they definitely aren't gonna fuck for this sicko. If they were gonna do that, it would have happened years ago. It didn't. Such is life. 

"Eddie," Steve says, pulling on his pant leg from his spot on the ground.

"We aren't fucking for his perversions," Eddie snaps, "don't worry."

"Eddie, just sit. Calm down," Steve says, and Eddie does. If Steve asks, he's gonna do whatever he wants. That's how this goes. He can sit and try to calm down. For Steve. 

They sit in silence for a while, Eddie trying to not be so goddamn pissed off.

"We could just do it," Steve says.

"No way," Eddie answers. "I'm not letting some sick fucker get his way to get his rocks off, or whatever. He's probably filming us. He can do whatever the fuck he wants to me, I'm Eddie Munson. Freak. Nobody will be surprised. But I'm not letting him get footage of you like that. You have a job you love. No way."

"Eddie," Steve says softly, but that's all he says. There's nothing else to say. They'll just sit here. 

Another day, and Eddie is plotting this fucker's death. He's never killed anyone, or anything, but he's gonna make an exception when he gets out of this shithole. 

Steve is leaning against his shoulder.

"We should just do it," Steve says. "Just fuck me."

He's said that fifty times over the past day. 

Eddie shakes his head. Again. Not happening.

This time, Steve huffs out a breath of annoyance, "I know you don't want to fuck me. I get it. Message has been received loud and clear. But, like, can you just suck it up and get us the fuck out of here? Take one for the team? Goddamn, Eddie. I'm tired."

Eddie stills. That's. That's not what's happening here.

"I'm not raping you for his pleasure, what the fuck?"

"You can't rape the willing," Steve says, and Eddie laughs, he can't help it. But Steve laughs, too, and Eddie can feel the tension drain from between them. 

"You're ridiculous," Eddie says, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder, patting his arm.

"I'm serious," Steve says, "like, I get that you're not really into it."

Eddie's into it. Eddie's always been into it. 

Eddie laughs, "I'm not not into it, Steve. What the fuck? I'm just not about to do this," he says, waving his hand between the two of them, "because of this. Because we're trapped here, okay? I'm not. If we didn't get there on our own, it wasn't meant to be."

Steve is quiet, too quiet, and Eddie looks over at him to see what's going on. Steve's just staring, like he's working through something in his head, before finally asking, "Did you? Did you want to? With me? When?"

When? Always. 

"That summer, after," Eddie says, because that's the truth. The first truth. "But you were trying to work through your feelings for Nancy—"

"Nance stayed with Jonathan!" Steve snaps. 

She did. That didn't change that Steve was working through it.

"I know, but that's where you were. Where your head was. Your heart. With her, not me."

Steve presses his fists into his eyes, "You're a fucking asshole."

Eddie laughs, "Well, yeah. That's the deal. The whole persona."

Steve laughs, pulling his hands away from his face, "I was interested. I thought you weren't."

The smile falls from Eddie's face. He feels it slip, and this is no longer a fun conversation to be having. Had they? Was there? Had there been a chance and neither one of them took it? Fuck.

"I was interested," Eddie says, "fuck, Steve. I was in love with you."

Probably still is. The asshole behind the curtain pulling the strings probably didn't misunderstand his lyrics at all. Eddie's just been in deep denial for years and years. Desperate to make sure he didn't fuck up their friendship. He couldn't afford to lose Steve totally.

"Still am, I suppose," Eddie admits, and the sound that comes out of Steve's mouth is full of pain and sorrow.

"We're both idiots," Steve finally chokes out, and presses his face into Eddie's shoulder. 

Well, no shit. Of course they are. Eddie could have told him that years ago.

Steve shifts, and rests his head on Eddie's shoulder, "We've wasted a lot of time. Can we not waste anymore?"

And fuck. Steve's asking, and Eddie wants to give him anything he wants.

"Okay. Okay, c'mere," Eddie says, and Steve crawls onto Eddie's lap, straddling his thighs.

And then he's kissing him. It's what Eddie's always wanted, but not here, not like this. Both of them are dirty, and neither have great breath. Eddie resents that this is how their first time is gonna go. Being watched.

Eddie slides his hand down the back of Steve's shorts, fingers just barely brushing against his hole. He reaches for the lube with his other hand, and hears the lock on the door click open. A heavy, echoing sound. 

He freezes. Nobody comes in, and maybe it's a trick. Maybe it's their doom. Maybe they should stay right where they are, doing this, because maybe it's the last chance they'll ever have to do it.

But if the door is unlocked, and this is their chance to escape, they gotta take it.

Eddie slides his hand out of Steve's shorts, and lifts his arms, letting Steve push himself to his feet, before pulling Eddie up after him. 

They walk towards the door, cautious, leery of what they might find on the other side. 

Eddie pushes on it, and it's heavy, but it swings open, revealing more of the same, just a larger area of an old warehouse instead of the room where they'd been holed up. He takes Steve's hand, and they head for the other door across the way. When he grabs the knob, turning, they are hit with bright sunlight. They both shield their eyes on instinct, before Eddie forces himself to look around. 

There's a car. His car, actually. Sitting along the deserted road. The keys are in the seat, on top of a note. Steve gets in and Eddie hits the automatic locks, locking themselves behind another set of doors, however, this one seems safer. 

Unfolding the note, in a marker, it just says: Congrats. You finally did it. Tell Steve sorry about the black eye. He put up more of a fight than we expected.

That's it. There's no other explanation. He hands it to Steve, and Steve reads it, and then just says, "Huh."

Eddie starts the car, they don't explode which he was only slightly concerned about, and pull down the dirt road. He has no idea where they are. Not what state, hell, maybe not what country, though he assumes they didn't go too far if his car is here.

"Do you recognize where we are?" Eddie asks, paused at the stop sign onto a highway.

"Not at all," Steve answers.

"Left or right?" Eddie asks, and Steve looks in both directions.

"Right."

Right it is.

They stop at the first motel they see. Ready to get cleaned up, ready to call someone, report that they're safe. First, they'll call home, then the police. In that order.

Eddie knows once that official call is made, all hell is gonna break loose. A media circus that he just isn't prepared for yet. They're safe. It can wait a second. 

Steve sits on the motel bed, and presses the touch tone buttons on the phone. It rings and rings, before it finally connects.

"Robin," Steve says. 

"Hey! Way to not check in after your flight landed," she says, very clearly annoyed. 

"My flight? Where did you think I went?" he asks, and Eddie leans close so he can hear, too. 

"Hawaii? With Eddie?" 

Eddie snatches the phone from Steve's hand, "Who the fuck told you that?" 

"Jeff," she says. "Are you not in Hawaii?" 

"We are not in Hawaii. I don't think," Eddie says, and looks at Steve, who shakes his head. There's no way they're in Hawaii. "We were kidnapped. Nobody was looking for us?" 

"Well, no? We didn't know we were supposed to be! Steve Harrington, did you get kidnapped and not tell me?!" 

"You thought Steve Harrington just skipped school?! Just didn't show up to work? And that didn't worry anyone?!" 

"It's Spring Break," she says, "I thought. Shit. I just thought he'd finally, that you'd both finally…nevermind."

Eddie hangs his head. Nobody was even looking for them. They could be dead in a warehouse and nobody would even know to start looking for longer than Eddie's comfortable with. 

Steve takes the phone back, "We're fine. I'll call you back."

Next, Eddie calls Gareth. No answer. No answer from Goodie either. Jeff, however, does pick up.

"Why the fuck did you tell Robin I took Steve to Hawaii?"

"Did you not?" he asks, like he's totally unbothered.

Of course he fucking did not.

After getting off the phone with Jeff, Eddie's now trying to decide if they were all duped by a psycho stalker fan that snagged him or if those three assholes are who locked them up together. In some sort of horribly misguided matchmaking scheme. 

"You think it was them, don't you?" Steve asks.

"Well, kinda. Why else would they lie to Robin? And Wayne. Something's not adding up, and if I find out they threw us both in a cage to try and get us to admit our feelings or whatever, I'm gonna kill them. That's not their business. And they hurt you."

Steve reaches out and grasps both of Eddie's shoulders, "I'm fine. Maybe we needed a little sense knocked into us."

"You didn't need a black eye," Eddie seethes. "Or another concussion."

"I'm fine, Eddie. Look at me. I don't have a concussion. I need a shower, yes, but other than that, I'm good. We're good."

"What would they have done if we'd called the cops first?"

Steve laughs, "Well. We could always call them and tell them that's exactly what we did, and see if they flinch."

Eddie cackles. Oh, hell yes. If it was them, he's gonna make them squirm. They deserve it.

Even if it's probably gotten him what he's always wanted: Steve.

Still. If he finds out this was them, they're gonna pay for it, dearly.

"Shower first," Eddie says, "retribution later."

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the May Mayhem Bingo Event!

Notes: Title from Bullets With Butterfly Wings by The Smashing Pumpkins. (I wondered where this note had gone. I accidently put it on yesterday's fic, lol. Whoops.)

Did the CC boys kidnap them? I don't know. You tell me. 🤣

[secondwindsteve]

hello steddie nation i have returned

[secondwindsteve]

Did someone else noticed or am I just too into Steddie ?

[secondwindsteve]

It’s ladies night at the gay bar Eddie works at which means no men allowed, which means, ‘how the hell did this dork in a polo make it pass the bouncer and how the hell has no one complained about him yet?’

Eddie watches the admittedly gorgeous guy approach the bar and ask for a drink. Eddie responds with, “How did you get past Frank?”

“The bouncer?” Pretty boy asks. “Oh, I asked if I could come in.”

“You asked?”

“Yeah?”

“And he let you?”

“Yeahhh?”

“None of these girls are going to go for you,” Eddie tells him in case he somehow missed that this was the queerest bar in town. “They’re lesbians. They like women.”

“I know!” The guy - Steve, Eddie will find out later - smiles, bright and big. “Isn’t that great?!”

Something in Eddie curdles with disgust because, “Nice try, buddy. You’re not going to ‘turn’ a lesbian.”

“Hope not,” Steve laughs and then pulls a stack of Polaroids out of his pocket. “Look at this.”

He holds one out to Eddie, showing him the image of a girl looking done-as-shit with the camera in her face. There’s a phone number written at the bottom.

“This is Robin," Steve says fondly. “Shes my best friend, and a lesbian, and the best person I’ve ever met, and I love her…she deserves a girlfriend so I’m-“

“Advertising her?”

“Helping get her a date,” Steve finishes. “This will make a great story at their wedding.”

“That’s insane…and strangely endearing.”

“Yeah, I’m like that,” Steve says, sliding over a Polaroid of Robin giving the camera the bird. “That’s my phone number too. Just so you know.”