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stevieschrodinger · 22 days ago

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The nurse pulls the stethoscope away from the bend of Steve's elbow, the sound of the blood pressure cuff being pulled away is harsh in the quiet room, “right, lets give those wounds a check.”

Steve has the routine down now, and he pulls the hospital gown away from the appropriate places, lies back, sits up, pulls the sheet, lifts a leg, the nurse humming appreciatively each time. Just one bandage to remove and replace with clean now.

“Okay, so, eat a good meal this evening, and breakfast tomorrow, and after a bowel movement I think you’ll be fine to go home.”

Next to Steve, Eddie snorts, “bowel movement. Better order prunes for Breakfast Stevie.”

“Thank you,” Steve tells the nurse, and she leaves with a nod.

Eddie has his filthy boots on the bed, but they never leave a mark on the sheets, so Steve ignores them.

“That’s sweet of her,” Steve says absently, no energy to fight it after climbing up into Hop’s truck.

“So Joyce and Nancy are already at your place,” Hopper tells him, “you’ll have groceries and some meals ready. I think El’s there too, she wanted to make sure your bedroom was clean.”

“Hope you don’t got anything suspicious hidden away,” Eddie shoves a dirt encrusted hand between the seats, into Steve’s peripheral vision, nails caked with filth and blood, the end of one finger is just bone, the flesh eaten away by something. Steve tries not to gag. Eddie makes a vulgar gesture, wanking the empty air, “don’t want her innocent young eyes finding your supply of dirty mags right?”

The cuff of Eddie’s jacket has a string of something flesh like and rotten hanging from it.

Steve spends the rest of the journey looking out of the window.

“Steve, honey, are you okay?”

Steve shuffles through the house, finding only Joyce in the kitchen, “yeah. All good.”

“Right, well, let me show you what I’ve done okay,” and Joyce shows him, the neatly prepared meals still cooling on the side. All very sensible, palatable, starch and protein and vegetable. Everything neatly labelled.

Eddie’s speaking in the background, Steve does his best to ignore it, “bet she’s filth in the sack you know. Nice of her to get you the good stuff though,” and Eddie pulls a milk shake out of the fridge.

Eddie drinks, and Steve watches as it leaks through the holes in Eddie’s guts, soaks his filthy jeans, and drips onto the kitchen floor, Joyce talking all the while.

Steve flinches. He can’t help it. The bang is loud.

“Hey Dingus, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” but it’s made a lie when he twitches again.

“Steve...maybe you came back to work too soon? Do you want to go home? You look really tired.”

Home is worse. Home is so much worse, because at home he’s alone with Eddie, “nah, I want to try and stay.”

“Okay, well, sit then,” Steve does, flinching again as another launched tape hits the windows, Eddie cackling madly.

Steve stares at the ceiling in the dark. Eddie is hopping around and singing. Loudly. Something Steve doesn’t know.

Steve’s so tired he feels like his eyes are sinking into his head. His body is weighed down by it. He feels a little delirious, like he was when he was on the good meds at the hospital, but the evil twin of that feeling.

He wonders vaguely if you you can die of exhaustion. It really feels like you can. He’s broken, he knows it, can sense it creeping up. He’s so close to just...crumbling in on himself. He does something he hasn’t done for weeks, spurned by a final act of desperation, “Eddie,” Steve’s voice cracks, and he can feel that his eyes are wet, tears tracking their way along his temples, “Eddie please stop. Stop, just for a little while.”

Eddie stops moving, listening to Steve, “are you going to stop ignoring me?”

Steve feels like he’s making a deal with the devil, swallowing thickly. By acknowledging Eddie he’s admitting that Eddie’s there.

This is the end of Steve’s sanity.

“Okay.”

“You screamed like a little girl when you first saw me,” Eddie says absently.

“Yeah,” Steve admits. Admitting it is easy, it’s true. It’s speaking at all that he’s reluctant about.

“Don’t seem bothered now though,” Eddie moves when Steve does. Steve’s done pissing now, stripping to get in the shower. The toilet lid drops with a sharp thud and Eddie sits on it. Eddie hasn’t been out of Steve’s eye line since he came to in the hospital; he’s had no choice but to get over being viewed naked.

Eddie has provided Steve with an unwanted but highly detailed commentary on his own body.

Apparently Eddie finds him attractive. A subject he has gone into in vile detail.

“No,” Steve passed out from exhaustion the moment Eddie allowed him some peace last night, and if this is the game he has to play to get some sleep tonight, then he will.

Steve showers, “so you’re actually not dating that Buckly girl then. I really thought you were. Didn’t clock that she was a raging dyke.”

Steve closes his eyes under the hot water, letting it batter him. It covers the sound of his deep sigh, “I’m fair game. You don’t say anything derogatory about anyone else or the deals off.”

“Okay. Okay that’s fair. I mean...I’m not that kind of guy anyway, I swear I just...you’re the only one who could hear me. And you were ignoring me. I was trying to get a rise out of you...trying to get you to...react I guess. Even for a second.”

Steve sighs, “stop trying to guilt trip me. I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah but...I don’t want you thinking I’m like, a bad guy-”

“Whatever. That’s exactly what someone in my head would say.”

“What? You don’t think I’m real?”

Steve scoffs, finally pulling the shower curtain back and climbing out to dry himself. Up until now Steve’s had to endure Eddie’s lecherous and very obvious oggling. This time, Eddie looks away. Steve's glad.

“I’m the only one who can see you, of course you’re not real. I’ve just...been hit in the head one too many times. Or...it’s trauma, or something.”

“Can you put a movie on for me? Honestly you’ve got no idea how fucking boring this is.”

“Sure,” and Steve does, and he ends up just sitting and watching it with Eddie. Steve reflexively tuts when Eddie’s boots land on the coffee table, but Eddie just grins at him.

“You’re looking better,” Robin tells him absently.

“Yeah, yeah I feel a lot better,” which is true. Steve’s had two whole nights full of sleep. Eddie is propping up the counter, flicking through leaflets for upcoming releases and two for one rental coupons.

“Come here Dingus, I was worried,” Eddie watches as they hug. They hug for a long time, “you’d tell me, right? If something was going on?”

“Sure, of course,” Steve answers reflexively. Easily.

Eddie looks up long enough to roll his eyes at Steve, “why don’t you tell her?”

Steve doesn’t answer. Eddie glares for a second but then shrugs it off when Dustin and Mike come through the doors, looking for free rentals and staff discounted snacks.

Steve can’t help but stare at Eddie, who in turn is staring, wide eyed and fascinated. He tries to touch Dustin’s shoulder, but as usual, his hand goes straight though. He looks, briefly, heartbroken.

The pain echos in Steve's own chest.

Once Steve had started ignoring Eddie, since, you know, he’s not real, Eddie had gone through a four day period of trying to punch Steve in the face. Half way through day three, Steve even managed to stop flinching.

Eddie’s already in the passenger seat, “why don’t you tell them about me?” he asks again.

Steve finds a tape, digs out some Abba, takes great pleasure in Eddie’s clear disgust. “Because you’re not real. I’m going to get myself locked up somewhere.”

“Steve,” Eddie huffs, “I’m pretty sure I’m real man. I feel real.”

“That's exactly what-”

“Oh fuck off Harrington. Why you then? Why is this happening to you?”

Steve sits in the quiet left behind by Abba. The car making quiet noises as it settles and cools. Steve stares through the glass at his own front door.

“I think I’m being punished.”

Steve moves around the kitchen, making effort to cook himself something that’s actually protein and vegetables and not just canned food and melted cheese in slightly different arrangements.

“That’s sad, you know, that you think you’re being punished. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Steve shrugs, “you’re dead.”

“Not your fault. I made my own choices.”

Steve shrugs again, “it’s not like I’m doing this on purpose.”

Eddie snorts, “you think your subconscious is punishing you with me? That’s...a hundred kinds of shitty. Also, I’m kind of offended.”

And Eddie really does look offended. Steve laughs. Really laughs. And then he’s laughing desperately because the laugh knocked the pieces loose and he feels like he’s cracking open with all of the everything that’s happened. And then he’s crying, leaning against the kitchen counter, sobbing.

Eddie’s hard to see through the snot and tears, but he’s there, hand hovering uselessly in the air, looking so, so, concerned about Steve. Steve wipes the tears away eventually. His chest feels tight, but also lighter, and he spends a minute relearning how to breathe, Eddie talking him gently through it all the while.

Everything looks a little better, after. Even Eddie’s face isn’t as dirty as Steve thinks he’s made it out to be.

Steve’s lying on the couch. Eddie’s lying on the floor.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t really have one.”

“How can you not have a favorite color? Come on Harrington, Everyone has a favorite color.”

“What’s yours?”

“Like...I guess like a teal? Like a really specific green kind of blue?”

Steve hums, turning to look, “I would not have guessed that for you.”

Eddie shrugs, staring at the ceiling, “how about red? You seem like a primary colors kind of guy.”

“Are you like...calling me simple, some how?”

Eddie laughs, a short shocked braying noise, “am I insulting you though the medium of favorite color choice?” Eddie gestures vaguely, rings catching the afternoon sun, Steve noticing the shine on them for the first time.

“Feels like it,” Steve grumbles, but he’s smiling, lying back on the couch.

“I’m bored,” Eddie gets bored when Steve’s doing housework. He’s become a constant distraction away from the things Steve really should be doing, but still. This is how the laundry ends up not being folded, and they end up going for a drive to no where that results in a sunny walk along the bank of lovers lake.

“Nearly fucking shit myself jumping in that lake. Was bad enough watching fucking Patrick die.”

“Yeah that must have...must have been bad.”

Eddie skims a rock across the water, “maybe you’re right,” he says, almost absently.

“What about?” Steve finds a rock for himself, but it only skims one time before disappearing below the surface. Eddie grins at him, quick, before he goes back to finding another stone.

“Me being...a curse. I was there for Chrissy. And then Patrick-”

“Hey. Hey, no. No I don’t...I don’t think that, any more. And Patrick and Chrissy, that was awful, but it was Vecna, you just...wrong place wrong time man, don’t beat yourself up.”

Eddie sighs through his nose, “okay.”

They stand, watching the sunshine make the water all sparkly. Far off in the distance, Steve can hear some kids playing. The fun kind of shrieking and hollering.

“Nothing to be scared of now though, right?” Eddie asks.

“Nah, I don’t-”

Steve doesn’t even get to finish what he’s about to say, Eddie hollering and whooping, gravel crunching under his boots as he sprints the few yards to the waters edge. “It’s fucking freezing,” he screeches when he’s in up to his hips, but he doesn’t stop, arms splashing as he still tries to walk even the waters too deep for it.

Steve absently thinks that the water's going to fuck up the leather of his jacket.

Steve doesn’t really know what possesses him, but he chases Eddie in anyway.

Steve’s sneakers squelch horribly as he slumps up the beach, but he still doesn’t regret it. The elated look on Eddie’s face when they'd splashed each other. The joy.

Steve hadn’t played like that since he was a kid.

He can hear Eddie following him, and they flop down on the grass, side by side, an inch between them.

Steve squints at the sun, watching as Eddie holds his hands up to the warmth, bands of light shining though his fingers. They look better. As in, they’re all present and correct.

When they turn to look at each other, Eddie’s face is clean.

They both lean in at the same time, and Eddie’s mouth is warm from the sun and chilled by the water.

#stranger things #steddie #getting together #horror?#steddie ficlet #ficlet #happy ending #angst with a happy ending #mild gore

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stevieschrodinger · 1 month ago

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Part One Angel of the Morning

Part Two

Demon of the Fall

“Okay, tell me from the start, what happened.”

Steve sighs, closes his eyes, lets it back out slowly through his nose. There’s a peppering of nudges against Steve’s cheek, his temple, into his hair. Nudges of tiny noses and the soft flickering of tiny tongues. Robin can’t hide her concern for him, her snakes give her away.

One even wedges it’s tiny spade like head under Steve’s eye feathers, nestling there and going still.

“So,” Steve takes another deep breath, “obviously you saw what happened at school.”

“Yeah, and I assume you went home and fucked nasty about it, I don’t need those exact details.”

“Right, so. We’re mates. My wings I...I know he’s my mate, and he said a couple of things about how his own...biology-?” Steve tries carefully.

“More than enough detail, go on.”

“Right, so he said enough, he thinks I’m his mate too.”

“Well...that’s good right?”

“Right, yeah, and then, last night, so...night two of being like...mates, together-”

“I did notice you were giving each other a lot of like, you know, looks, yesterday at school.”

“Yeah...I think we’re still, like, feeling this thing out a bit. In public.”

“Well he definitely isn’t shy, I think at one point he was actually drooling.”

Steve waves a hand, vaguely dismissive of Robin, but still, his feathers fluff at hearing how much his mate wants him. She smirks knowingly.

“Yeah, so whatever, so last night, he came over again…” Steve swallows thickly at the memory, his wings shift, hugging Steve’s own shoulders, trying to physically shield him without his permission, Robin rubbing a gentle hand along his wing joint, soothing them down again. “We had sex,” Steve says it flat, “and it was...Rob’s, he wouldn’t even look at me. It was like he was touching me but...he didn’t want to. He just kept telling me it was, nothing, it was fine, he just kept lying to me. And then it was like he couldn’t wait to get out of there and then, when he was leaving I tried to find out, you know, if anything was wrong and he,” Steve breath stutters a little in his chest, “he did this,” Steve pulls down the collar of his sweater to show robin the bruise, “pinned me to wall and did this. And then he just…left me”.

Robin gasps at the sight of the mark, purple and lurid, still painful when Steve tilts his head that way or lifts his shoulder. All of Robs snakes stand up in agitation. It’s a miracle Eddie didn’t break the skin. “That fucking rat Demon piece of shit-”

Robin reaches for the mark, and Steve knows her touch would be gentle, but something in him can’t take the thought of anyone else touching Eddie’s bruise, so Steve just shrugs, letting the material slide back and cover it again.

“I can’t guarantee I won’t kill him.”

Steve just huffs out of his nose, shrugging again, “I just want him to tell me what’s going on.”

But Steve isn’t getting an explanation, and Robin isn’t committing murder, because that day, Eddie doesn’t show.

Steve does his best to cover how he’s feeling, but Dustin’s tail and pointy ears aren’t just for show, and the second his little puppy nose twitches at him, Steve knows he’s been made, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m okay.”

Dustin scoffs, “liar.”

“Just leave it alone Dustin.”

“Come on man, whatever it is, it can’t be so bad-”

“About as bad as a werewolf with no teeth.”

Steve looks up from his lunch tray to watch the real hurt on Dustin’s face flicker into anger, Steve stomach lurches with a flare of guilt, “Steve, that’s a shit-”

“I know, I know,” Steve reaches across the table, grabbing Dustin’s wrist, “I’m sorry. That was a low blow and a shitty thing to say, I didn’t mean it. I am sorry, it’s no excuse for me to take my bad mood out on you.”

Dustin pulls away gently, but does pat Steve’s hand in turn, “okay, sorry I pushed.”

“Okay, so,” Steve scours around for something to distract Dustin away, “hows Suzie?”

Dustin's tail smacks against the bench seat it starts wagging so hard, “she’s awesome. We’re going to do an experiment with radio antennas…”

Steve sits, staring at the trailer. He knows he has the right place; all the Demons live in the trailer park and everyone knows it. Eddie’s van is is just sitting there, next to a truck. So Eddie lives with someone, and Steve doesn’t even know who that is, because they’ve spent more time fucking than talking so far.

Two fucks and maybe a third of a conversation doesn’t fill Steve with too much hope.

And Eddie had seemed so certain, that first night. He’d been so...open. Steve’s chest clenches at the thought of it, trying not to let himself get too worked up already. He’d remembered the look in Eddie’s brown eyes, the flickering of his soul. That wasn’t a lie; Eddie wasn’t faking that, he couldn't fake that, he knows in his heart that what they both felt was real. So why? Why this?

Steve intends to find out.

Steve lets his wings flap once as he walks to the trailer, self soothing and unruffling after the confines of the car. An older man opens the door, beer in hand. A relation of Eddie’s, he must be. He’s wearing a worn shirt and jeans washed into pale softness. His horns are different to Eddie’s, his are smoother, flicking out to the side and back, more points curling off them, like deer. Like little antlers. He has a cap, worn backward, nestled perfectly between them. He’s sturdier than Eddie, but shorter; Steve can already tell his wings are smaller even as they sit folded neatly against the man's back.

“You must be Steve,” and the man holds his free hand out for a shake, which Steve returns, “I’m Eddie’s uncle, Wayne.”

“Good to meet you sir, is Eddie around?”

“He is, but he’s not up for visitors right now, I’ll tell him you called,” and Wayne’s stepping back to let the screen door close, and Steve’s heart skips in his chest. Eddie’s sick, maybe that’s all it is. Maybe that’s why he was so weird, he was just having a hard time.

“Okay I...just let him know I...I’ll see him when he’s better?”

Wayne smiles a little, before he goes to close the trailer door, the screen door already between them, “I’ll tell him. He’ll be happy to hear it.”

Hope and relief blooms in Steve’s chest. That’s all it is. Steve got himself worked up over nothing-there’s a noise from inside the trailer. It sounds like a door slamming, someone crashing along the hall.

“Is he here?!” That’s Eddie’s voice, Steve would recognize it anywhere. Steve doesn’t know him well enough to read the tone, though, it’s just loud, like Eddie’s roaring.

Steve pulls open the screen door before he can stop himself, Wayne’s shadow just visible through the frosted half of the cheap trailer door, “Eddie?” Steve calls back.

“Eddie! No-” But Wayne is clearly scuffling with Eddie, the light through the door being blocked by the competing spread of wings.

“Steve!” Eddie roars again, Steve’s wings flaring as he’s startled back a step away from the door again, the plastic glass of the door practically rattling, “he’s mine. My mate.”

Steve lets the screen door shut again, hopping back a step and off the top of the porch as there’s a scramble against the door, “Eddie, stop this!” Wayne’s voice is firm but doesn’t seem to make any difference, Wayne being shoved out of the way as Eddie drags the door open, shoving through the screen door in the same smooth movement.

He tucks his wings to get though the doorway, but then he flares them, and they are massive. Black and different looking, spread wide in the daylight. Steve has barely a second to take it all in, Eddie’s hair is wild, his skin flushed. His chest is bare, rising and falling as Eddie pants madly, ragged black board shorts hanging on desperately to Eddie’s narrow hip bones, the thick brown fur trailing down from his belly button before it spreads out to his hips. His fangs are fully out, completely distended, which considering Steve hasn’t seem them at all yet, the sight of them is shocking. They’re curved, like scimitars, huge things that make Steve wonder if Eddie can even close his mouth properly with them out. His hooves clack so loud on the wood of the porch.

His eyes are red. Completely, from corner to corner, no sign of iris or pupil, none of the beautiful brown that Steve had, even though they’ve been together all of forty eight hours, already gotten so used to.

Eddie lunges. Carried forward sharply by a flap of his powerful wings, and it’s on pure instinct that Steve turns and fucking runs. His car is literally yards away, and Steve’s glad he left it unlocked, making it there in a few panicked strides he drags the door open, turning in time to see Wayne tackle Eddie into the dirt.

Eddie fucking howls. The noise raises every hair on Steve’s body, prickles along every feather. Steve throws himself into the car, starting her fine despite his shaking hands, peeling away.

The last Steve sees of Eddie is in the rear view mirror, red eyes burning as he kneels in the dirt.

Steve tells Robin what happened over lunch. Eddie’s not at school again; Steve is not even remotely surprised. He speaks quickly, in hushed whispers, getting it all out. The story comes out jagged and in the wrong order, he keeps having to back track over the details of how Eddie looked. The fear prickles back up Steve’s spine, and he looks around furtively, making sure no ones listening.

Robin looks suitably horrified by Steve’s story, and Steve doesn’t get quite to the end of everything before the kids show up, Max slapping her tray down dead opposite Steve, “quite a show you put on yesterday.”

And...fuck. Even though Steve has spent all night going over it again and again in his head, the fact that it happened in the middle of the fucking trailer park, in broad daylight, and people most definitely would have seen the whole thing...that hadn’t even crossed Steve’s mind.

Robin grips his hand tighter under the table, and Steve stares down at his uneaten lunch.

“Whole trailer parks talking about it, the Demon that’s mated an Angel.”

All the kids are, obviously leaning right in to get this gossip, “how do you know we, uhm,” Steve can’t say it. He swallows thickly.

Max is staring at him, plastic fork hanging in the air with a few sad lumps of corn balanced on it. She’s frowning, parsing something out, “he’s in rut. People saw how hard he was trying to get at you. Being freshly mated triggers a rut, if you were a Demon, you’d go into heat to match, but you’re not. I figured that’s why Eddie’s locked himself up without you?”

“Rut?” Steve asks, feeling kind of stupid. Steve’s an Angel, he understands Angel biology, he’s never needed to know about other stuff.

“Yeah like, the newly mated urge to fill your partner up with Demon babies? It’ll last like, three or four days and then he’ll be fine again. Well, I mean, he will be okay, going it alone sucks.”

Yesterday is suddenly completely reframed in Steve’s mind. He also feels, a tiny bit uncomfortable talking to Max about this since she’s still, kind of, a kid, “maybe I should talk to,” Steve clears his throat, “an older Demon about-”

Max scoffs, rolling her eyes, “Steve, I’ve had sex ed class. Plus, my Mom has always been straight with me, as soon as I was old enough to ask questions, she answered them. Everything about being a Demon fucking sucks, everything hurts. She didn’t want me getting screwed over by hitting heat too young and not knowing what was happening,” she shrugs, “doesn’t want me getting caught up by some asshole. It happens.”

“I...okay. Sorry.” Steve has no idea how to feel about...anything Max just said, “what do you mean, everything hurts?”

Max just shrugs, digging into her washed out looking vegetables, “horns? When they start to grow in through puberty? They hurt, like a pull on your skull, like, it burns as they’re growing,” she rubs at the base of one of her baby horns demonstrably, “the headaches suck, and then, when they come in? A day of raging fucking agony. Like, fiery pokers to the head. Heats? Ruts? If you’re alone, painful, lonely misery. Fangs? Every singe time they come out, they cut your gums, it hurts like fuck.” She shifts uncomfortably on the bench, suddenly looking like she’s revealed too much, “anyway. It doesn’t matter. He’ll be fine,” she stabs at her plate viciously, “we’re all always fine. Mom says it’s what makes us strong.”

Next to him, Steve catches Robin whisper a pained, “fucking hell,” under her breath.

“I didn’t know,” Steve tells her. Because it’s true. Eddie didn’t tell him any of this. “I should...would it help, if I go see him?”

“Probably, but if he wanted you there, he would have said at the start.” Ouch, that stings like hell, and whatever Steve’s face is doing, Max rolls her eyes, “he probably didn’t want to just,” she gestures vaguely, “scare off the Angel with this heavy shit too soon. And if you went now, it’s not...he’s not in his right mind Steve, he’s in rut, he’s not thinking straight. You have to respect whatever decision he made at the start.”

“That’s...yeah. That makes sense.”

“Consent is important to most Demons. It’s like, a big deal, to the good ones. So don’t take any of this personally okay.”

They sit quiet for a second, all the kids eating, Steve processing everything.

Lucas leans across the table, whispering to Max, “does that heat sex thing need a mate to happen-”

Max flicks a forkful of vegetables at him to shut him up, but she does answer, “no, I’m not old enough yet, dipshit.”

Eddie is standing way, way back from Steve’s front door. He rung the bell, and then must have put plenty of space between him and where Steve is now standing in the doorway.

“Hi. I was hoping to explain, but if you don’t want to hear it, I respect that, and I’ll go.”

Eddie says it by wrote, like he’s gone over it in his head fifty times before he got here. Steve wonders if Eddie’s all the way back there so that Steve doesn’t feel threatened. Even Eddie’s wings look small, as tight to Eddie’s back as he can possibly get them.

“No you can come in.”

Steve stands back, lets Eddie have space as he cautiously makes his way across the threshold. Steve tries not to look at the wall where, just a few days ago, Eddie pinned him. The bruise is healing, slowly, green and yellow around the edges now, but still a lurid spot of purple in the middle.

Eddie carefully wipes his hooves on the mat, and reflexively Steve’s manners kick in, “you want a coffee or anything?”

“That’d be great, thanks,” and Eddie trails after Steve through the house, hovering uncertainly in the kitchen as Steve makes up two mugs.

They don’t say anything until Eddie speaks again, “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Is it...is it bad?”

“It’s not so bad,” Steve turns, leaving the mugs on the counter so Eddie can add his own sugar and creamer as he likes it, “it’s healing,” Steve pulls the neck of his pullover towards his shoulder to show Eddie the spreading bruise.

Steve watches, in real time, as Eddie’s pupils dilate and then, red. Red comes creeping in from the edges. It swallows up the brown, mostly, but stops before it hits Eddie’s slitted pupil. Eddie walks forward, wings suddenly flaring with a sharp crack as he stalks toward Steve, the sound loud in the quiet confines of the kitchen. He’s pressing Steve back against the cabinets, Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest.

Eddie tangles his hand in the material of Steve’s sweater, keeping the bruise so he can see it, Eddie hasn’t taken his eyes off it, he leans down and...licks it. His breath comes out in a huge shudder, wings sagging, not folding, simply drooping to drag on the floor. Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s collarbone, the kitchen quiet again, and smelling of rich coffee.

“Sorry. What...happened to me is over, I’m in control I just...it’s lingering a little.” Eddie’s voice is a little muffled from where he’s resting.

Steve calms, hearing Eddie speak, his heart rate slowing again, knowing there's no threat, not really. He lifts a hand to carefully stroke along the top of Eddie’s wing, it lifts a little in response, pressing into the touch. It’s firm, strong, tight muscle corded over bone, the black skin soft yet firm.

“You had a rut.”

Eddie nods, still not moving from where he’s pressed to Steve’s front, “someone told you?”

“Yeah, Max, she said words out about us.”

Eddie groans, pained, “fuck, I hadn’t even thought that people must have seen.”

Steve snorts laugh, surprised at himself, because, really, he does kind of find it funny, “I didn’t either. She...explained that us being mates put you into rut?”

Eddie sighs, pressing close before finally squaring his shoulders and backing away a little to look Steve in the face. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain but. Ruts are...intense. Like, I just wanted to fuck you, that’s all I wanted, for four days solid. We’d been dating for a day, I couldn’t ask that of you. And I thought, the other night I...I didn’t realize until I got here that it had already started. I could feel my control it was...already slipping. I’m sorry I left it how I did but I was...frightened, about what I might say to you. If I’d let myself, I would have said anything to get what I wanted, I would have made you feel guilty, I would have tried to manipulate you to get what I thought I wanted I...I had to go. And I was so…frightened that I would hurt you,” Eddie shrugs, looking away, frowning, his hooves clop quietly on the kitchen tile as he takes a step back, “I did hurt you.”

Steve wings spread, out of his control, they flutter a little towards Eddie, white feathers looking a little glittery in the low, golden afternoon light shining through the kitchen window, “you didn’t do anything too bad and...now I know, right? You can explain this to me properly, yeah?”

Eddie swallows, then nods, “but I’d understand if you don’t...want to be there through it, or if you change your mind. If you were a Demon that could get pregnant, you’d have a heat to match." Eddie shrugs, "or I guess you would have gone into rut too, you know? But you don’t...I just feel like this could make things a little...difficult.”

Steve doesn’t even know where to start with his questions, but the way Eddie is describing the whole thing…and the way Eddie came after him, at the trailer park...

“Will you, during your rut, I mean, will you want to hurt me?”

Eddie shakes his head instantly, “no, no, absolutely not. It was just...that rut was, well, even more intense than usual, because it was the first one with my mate, or, you know,” Eddie shrugs.

“It would have been,” Steve crosses his arms, his wings pulling in a little defensively too, suddenly feeling like he’s in the wrong. He’s the disappointment, or something. Like if Steve was a Demon, like Eddie, it just...would have been fine, they would have had their ruts together, whatever that looked like.

It feels a little like Eddie didn’t want him.

“No. Steve, no. Don’t think like that okay. It was just, too much, too soon, and that's nobody's fault, okay? It’s just that...okay. If you want to be there for the next one, and, absolutely no pressure on that okay? We’d be ready, we’d spend time together, so I’d...I’d know you were there with me. I wouldn’t be so...so desperate, because you’d be safe in my bed with me already, you know? And we’d-” Eddie huffs and blushes, hooves clicking again as he shifts, drawing Steve’s attention. The tufty brown fur growing down over his split black hooves is kind of cute. “We’d make sure you were ready,” Eddie adds with certainty now, “we’d make sure I couldn’t hurt you. I wouldn’t be as desperate, knowing you weren't going anywhere. Knowing that you wanted to be there. It was you not being there that...made me kind of crazy for you.”

“When you say,” and yeah, okay, Steve isn’t a prude, and they have already had sex, but it still makes him a little shy to talk about it so bluntly, even if Eddie is his mate, “get me ready. You mean like…”

“Like dripping with lube and could maybe take a fist kind of ready, yeah.”

“Right,” Steve nods, shifting on his feet, because suddenly being fucked for four days solid is starting to sound mighty fucking appealing now they’ve taken ten minutes to actually talk about it.

When Steve looks up, Eddie’s eyes are bleeding red again, the tips of his wings are held high enough that they’re nearly touching the ceiling, dominant. Eddie’s displaying for him and he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, “you want...you want me to show you?”

Steve's nodding before Eddie’s even finished speaking. Eddie takes a step closer, before stopping and physically shaking himself. He steps away again, “sorry I’m still...maybe this isn’t a good idea, you’d have to stop me from biting you.”

“Biting me?” Steve asks. He’s half hard in his jeans. He gets it now. Just how badly Eddie wants him. The tail end of his rut still there, controlling Eddie a little. Eddie wants Steve so bad, and it’s intoxicating. Steve fully hardens in his jeans, wings lifting and fluffing in invitation, tips dipping in a slight bow. Submission.

Eddie’s eyes track the movement, a little more brown bleeding away. “It’s...a Demon thing. A mark. A visible scar, to show that you have a mate. That you’re...someone's.”

And Steve understands, he pulls the material of his sweater down again, revealing the bruise. Eddie’s eyes track to it, his wings give a harsh shake, almost rattling, “that’s what this was about?” Steve presses his fingers into the bruise, hissing.

Eddie takes a big stride forward before he stops himself again, closing his eyes, “Steve, please.”

“No. You’re going to tell me exactly what it’s going to be like. You’re going to show me.”

Eddie’s eyes pop open, almost fully red now, Steve gets to watch as his fangs pop free in a fast, smooth glide.

He’s close enough to see the blood on them. Eddie licks it away with the flick of his too long, forked tongue.

“Does it hurt?” Steve asks, fingers still working the edges of the bruise.

“Only for a second.”

And Steve doesn’t know any more what they’re talking about, Eddie’s fangs popping, or...Eddie biting Steve.

Eddie crashes into him. Kissing is made strange by Eddies fangs, open mouthed, tongues forcing their way through the long bars of Eddie’s fangs, the taste of Eddie’s blood soon dissipates.

Steve’s wings, very briefly, put up a fight, try to get on the outside, to contain Eddie. It lasts about five seconds before Eddie’s far superior wing span brings Steve’s back into line, covering them easily, the joint of Eddie’s wings pinning Steve’s effortlessly.

Eddie’s hands go straight for Steve’s belt, the buckle jangling as Eddie gets it apart, working the button and zip just as fast, hooking his thumbs in to push everything down together, Steve's hard cock springing free.

Eddie doesn’t wait even a second, he simply lifts Steve, Steve’s wings flapping reflexively, buffeting against the kitchen window, the wall, the counters. Steve’s only vaguely aware that at least one of the now cold cups of coffee crashes to the floor, cup smashing. Eddie doesn’t flinch, doesn’t seem to even register the noise.

Eddie sets his ass on the counter, dragging Steve’s jeans and boxers off, pulling his sneakers off at the same time.

One sock goes, the other clings half on half off. Eddie ignores it, he doesn’t bother with his own belt, just forcibly drags his jeans down, revealing his fur. His cocks already out of it’s furry sheath, thick and pointed and dripping. Eddie’s balls look even bigger than usual, weighty and darkly furred.

“Tell me,” Steve demands, already adjusting himself so his ass is right on the edge of the counter.

“I won’t want to fuck you the day before,” Eddie fists his own cock, using all the precome to slick his fingers, he forces one of Steve’s legs up. Steve’s not ready to lean back yet, so he grabs for Eddie, one hand on his shoulder, one hand curling around that sturdy curved horn. Eddie’s wings come down, the joins tucking behind Steve’s shoulders to help hold him up.

Eddie holds one of Steve's legs around his waist, the other hanging off the counter, “I’d need to look after you. Make sure you’re fed. Make you drink plenty. Maybe wash you.” Eddie’s sopping fingers press insistently at Steve’s hole, Eddie looks down to watch. “So small and tight. Pretty pink little asshole, so perfect for me,” like he’s fucking talking to it.

Eddie presses in with both fingers, Steve moaning, trying to shift his legs further apart, his own cock resting hot and heavy against the materiel of his sweater, already soaking a mark there, “I’d need to make sure there was enough food there for you, so I’d be able to look after you. Whatever you want. Fruits, snacks, your favorite things.”

He sounds like he’s rambling now, distracted, but Steve wants to hear it, “then what.”

Eddie pulls his fingers out, taking his cock in hand his jerks it once, another thick bubble of precome forming at the wide opening, Eddie presses the head of his cock to Steve’s asshole, not in, just against it, rubbing all that slick wetness around, moving in tight circles, before pulling back again and pressing in with his fingers.

“Fucking eat you. Fucking eat you out for hours,” Steve moans, his dick twitching, “want you to ride my face, want you fucking dripping with spit. You’re not gonna’ come though.”

“No?” it’s a croak, Steve losing his voice already.

“No,” and Eddie pulls his fingers out again, coming back with his cock, but this time he doesn’t pull back, he just pushes, the head popping in easy, dripping, and slicking, “watch you take me,” Eddie mumbles again, looking down, strong enough that moving his head isn’t at all hindered by Steve holding onto his horn for dear life. “Just stretches right out, let me slip inside you baby, so fucking wet for you baby.”

Steve pants through the stretch, fingers squeezing and grasping, desperate. It’s not enough prep exactly, not for the thicker part of Eddie, but his dick is so fucking hot and slick inside Steve that it goes. Steve moans, shifting, trying to tilt his hips into it. Eddie’s finally all the way in, “not,” Steve finds his voice, he reminds Eddie, “not gonna’ come?”

“No,” Eddie growls it, demands it, “no I wouldn’t let you,” Eddie pulls back, thrusting in with a wet squelch, “you can’t, you need to save it. Save every drop for me baby. I’d make you come so many fucking times. Fill you up,” Eddie leans in, his wings moving with them to lie Steve more flat on the counter, Steve still hanging on desperately. “Going to fill you up, going to knot you. Going to keep you so filled up with my come you’re gonna’ get pregnant. You have to.”

“Fuck,” Steve breathes, insides being fucking hammered by Eddie, his cock bouncing with every thrust, precome dripping from the head, balls already tight, “Eddie, please, fuck, please,” Steve wings try to flap weakly inside the cage of Eddie’s hold. He can see his own light growing brighter, even in the sunshine, what there was of Eddie’s slitted pupils turning so thin as to be almost invisible in the red as Steve's balls draw tight to his body.

“Gonna’ give you my knot now baby,” and it’s there, Steve thinks it might have been halfway there since the beginning, the warm soft fur of Eddie’s thighs pressing right against Steve's ass, thick, hot knot pushing right against Steve’s asshole, again and again. It slips a little further in each time, and Steve can feel Eddie’s precome starting to drip back out of him, Eddie’s fur becoming matted with it.

Steve’s forced to let go when Eddie leans forward the final few inches, mouth wide eyes sliding closed as Steve’s heart stutters in his chest, overwhelmed, "no bite," Steve manages to get out, getting Eddie's attention, "you're gonna' bite me on your next rut."

That does it, the last of Eddie's control slips, and Eddie’s knot batters it’s way inside, blowing wide, Steve crying out uncontrolled, a new shout with every breath. It feels like Eddie’s trying to pull it back out again, the way his hips are shifting and kicking, desperate, boiling hot come filling Steve up, his fear spiking as Eddie lunges the last inch, fangs aiming to strike.

There’s no pain. Just the close tearing sound of ripping material.

The kitchen is bathed in white light as Steve comes in huge waves, almost crying, making heaving, breathless, keening noises with every shift of Eddie inside of him. Wet jets soak the front of his now torn shirt, Eddie rearing back with the strip of material clenched firm in his fangs, Eyes closed, his head tilts back and Steve is finally forced to let go. Eddie looks rapturous, Steve shifting with tiny little movements, so full he’s sure he can feel it inside him, so full of hot come. His own cock spurts again weakly at the thought, his ass hole clenching, his hips shift, ass muscles shifting and tightening. Eddie cries out, Steve bearing down on his knot. It’s all a blur, nothing else matters, it’s all consuming, the feel of Eddie inside him. Steve feels like his insides are fluttering, grasping at Eddie, keeping him.

Reality slowly seeps back in. Just how fucking wet and sticky they are, Eddie’s fur matted into wet spikes. The corner of the counter digging into Steve’s ass. Eddie’s breath, still coming as desperate pants.

He seems to be blinking alert, looking down at Steve. The red bleeds out of his eyes, his fangs sink away.

The torn strip of material falls out of his mouth.

Eddie has to swallow three times before he can say, “you okay?”

Steve manages an affirmative noise, everything still feeling a little sensitive, like he might spill over. Eddie looks around, and then there’s a quiet clinking noise when he looks down, nudging the broken cup, “shit,” he says absently, “sorry, I’ll, uhm, I’ll get that.”

Steve only has it in him to nod, and then Eddie finally seems to get his wits about him, he works his arms and wings under Steve, both of them hissing and the tug of Eddie’s blood hot knot, trapped behind the tight ring of Steve’s muscle.

“We’re going to move baby, hold on,” Steve grabs on, wrapping himself tight as Eddie just lifts him, turning, he carries Steve easily to the couch.

The sensation of Eddie walking while Steve is still attached is a little strange, the brush of damp fur against his ass and inner thighs is a comfort.

Eddie sits carefully, arranging himself to lie down on the couch since they’re both face to face, and Steve simply bends his knees, weight resting on his shins, his ass in Eddie’s lap.

Sitting happy on Eddie’s knot.

Eddie’s wings stretch out, one resting up the back of the couch, the other lying limp half on the floor. Eddie rubs comfortingly over Steve’s thighs, up under what’s left of his sweater. Slow, soothing movements.

Eddie speaks into the quiet, “I’d look after you, after. Make sure you rest, eat, drink. I’d wash you, in the shower, take my time over you.”

Steve nods, lounging now, listing sideways against the back of the couch, his brain finally coming back online, “how often will this happen?”

“Twice a year, usually. They stop if you’re...if you were pregnant. It stops, for a while,” Eddie’s big, warm palms continue to skim across the skin of Steve’s stomach.

Steve hums, “how does it know?” He yawns, suddenly very, very tired, his thoughts soupy. How can Eddie’s weird rut thing know if Steve’s carrying a little bit of Eddie’s soul, mixed with his own?

“It just does baby, come here,” Eddie gently pulls him down, “sleep now, yeah?”

Steve hums, feeling warm and full, the front of Eddie’s shirt is soft, smelling like Eddie and fabric softener and sex and come, “you’ll help me in the shower later?” Steve checks, already falling asleep, “part of the deal.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” Eddie replies, voice warm and close, dropping a kiss into Steve’s hair.

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