#eddie munson spicy

[hairmetal666]

Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

[mollymurakami]

we’re all pretty bizarre. some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all.

[augustjustice]

[criminally-obsessed]

STEVE: Oh, to be a bored heir to the throne who keeps rejecting marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener. EDDIE: Oh, to be a cute gardener who secretly places roses in the heir’s room because they are in love with them. ARGYLE: Oh, to be the palace guard who discreetly helps to boost the cute gardener up the wall for their secret deliveries in the middle of the night. ROBIN: Oh, to be the heir’s best friend witnessing the two fools dance around each other while knowing damn well that the two like each other. NANCY: Oh, to be the noble suitor from another royal family who comes to know of their love instantly and plans an entire plan to get them their happy ending. JOHNATHAN: Oh, to be a medieval peasant who knows nothing about the heir’s personal life and who dies of dysentery at age 23.

[euaphora]

☆ DESPERATE — twitter links

socials

empty parking lot

video game chair

red cheeks

slow and steady

size kink

dominated

skirt

back

tied

[flowercrowngods]

it's yearning steddie get high with the others and make out about it hours (smut-ish)

Eddie hates being reminded that making promises to himself, and only himself, is pretty much useless if the only person holding him accountable to stick to his promise is one Eddie fucking Munson. Because that guy can’t be trusted. 

Especially not when it comes to Steve and his stupid perfect hair, his stupid perfect dimples, his preppy fucking everything, and — perhaps most importantly — the breathy note his voice gets when the boy replaces his beautiful piece of brain with Eddie’s finest weed. 

Steve in all his sober glory is unbearable at best, sure, that’s old news. But high? When the pained frown he’s not even aware of until he complains about a headache smoothes out and the tension in his shoulders disappears? When his scars no longer pull at every movement and he can hold himself again in the way he used to before everything — broad movements with a clumsy little edge to them that have Eddie’s heartstrings play rope skipping with his sanity.

That. That’s it. That’s it for Eddie. 

And it’s no surprise that it’s also what leaves him helpless in the face of Nancy hopefully suggesting they get high again tomorrow night; all of them. Offering Eddie the chance at getting to see that tension fall away again, and that pale smile be replaced with an easy, genuine, lingering one — dreamy and so fucking pretty. 

Luring Eddie with the most beautiful insanity.

So he says yes, despite having promised himself that he wouldn’t. Not after what happened last time. With Steve all the way up in his space, brushing his hair behind his ear with wonderment, trailing his hand down that lock until he forgot what he was going to say. What he was going to do. 

Forgetting, too, that Eddie was sober, because he wanted to watch Steve without getting caught — but Steve, all high and sweet and tactile, apparently decided to do the same. He looked. And touched. And smiled and breathed and stayed right there. Fingertips dancing around the frayed ends of Eddie’s hair.

Something shifted — first between them, then around them. And then between them again when Eddie stepped back and turned away, in desperate need of a cool drink to stave off the feeling of being caught, of being trapped, of being so fucking gone on the prettiest god-damn boy in all of Indiana. And of having said boy look at him like that. 

They shouldn’t get high again. They shouldn’t. 

But he knows it helps with the pain like their meds never do; he knows it helps Nance sleep better, breathe better, exist in this post-apocalyptic world that doesn’t even remember the apocalypse, whose only reminders lie in the scar tissue of some teenagers and some graves that nobody knows are empty. 

He knows that if he says no, they’ll find someone else to provide; and he doesn’t like the thought of that. Not one bit. 

So it’s not even the thought of Steve’s dazed little smile that gets him to agree, nodding at Nance with an easy smile, saying, “Sure, let’s do it.” 

But it is the thought of Steve’s dazed little smile, his breathy voice, his tactile nature that comes out even more when he’s high out of his mind like he knows he’s floating and needs someone to anchor him, and the memory of that stolen little moment, that makes Eddie curse himself to all hells once Nancy’s blooming smile is out of sight and he’s free of judgment to kick the kitchen counter beside him with a hearty curse. 

He can do it. He can. All he needs to do is not stay sober this time, take the edge off and get out of his head about all of this, because he’s actually far less likely to do anything stupid under the influence, and also not look at Steve All Eyes On Me Harrington. 

Easy. 

Right? 

Totally. 

Except, as it turns out, ignoring Steve is both easier and harder than Eddie expected. The thing is, he’s good at diving into any conversation with just about anyone, making it larger than it needs to be until everyone in the room will give him funny looks but still roll with it, because Eddie Munson is just Like That, right? 

But Steve doesn’t give him funny looks. Oh, they’re far from fun. There’s something in there that reminds Eddie of a kicked puppy in those fleeting moments that he lets his eyes meet Steve’s, never letting them linger, never letting them take him in and hold him and bask in the sunlight that is stored in those… Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. And that pretty, pretty face. 

A face that shouldn’t look so sad. 

He wants to ask what’s wrong, ask him if it’s a bad pain day, ask him if he didn’t sleep last night either, or if something happened. But how is he supposed to ask, to let any words come out of his mouth, when Steve just won’t look away. When he’s looking at Eddie like that again, when the little something that has shifted between them suddenly becomes massive enough to steal all the air away from his lungs and make his arms tingle in a way that he knows will only get better if he gets to wrap them around Steve. 

He can’t. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask. But he doesn’t look away either, and he knows he’s already lost. He knows he broke this promise he made to himself. 

But it’s fine, maybe, if the slight twitch in the corners of Steve’s lips is anything to go by. Like he, too, wants to say something but can’t. Like he knows Eddie is the same. Like his heart is racing, too, and he tried not to look but they’re so stupid and looked anyway and now they can’t— 

“Guys?” Robin interrupts their little moment, the bubble bursting with a loud snap of her fingers that makes Eddie physically flinch. 

He looks at her, spooked to shit and gasping because he does not do well with sudden loud noises or the impromptu bursting of bubbles — not after everything that happened. 

“Shit, sorry, oh my God!” Robin’s there immediately, reaching for his hand, Nancy laying hers on his shoulder, Jonathan making himself known with a gentle little, “You’re fine, man.” 

Eddie regains his footing and breathes away the panic, thinking that maybe getting high today wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He hands Robin the baggie and stuffs his hands into his pockets, making himself a little smaller by muscle memory alone. 

Steve’s hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades — reassuring and warm. Like a flower, Eddie rises to follow it. He catches Steve’s smile out of the corner of his eyes and wants to rest his face against it. Wants to feel it against his skin. Wants to feel it shift into something deeper. Something real. 

God, he’s so hopeless. 

Good thing that Robin’s got the blunt under control, because Eddie does not trust his hands right now. 

They grab the snacks and drinks and head outside to where Steve and Robin laid out pillows and blankets on the lawn, framed with dimly glowing white Christmas lights that Robin insists upon whenever they do this. Makes it feel a little less fucked up for her. Like we’re doing this because we want to, and not because we need it to sleep or to cope with the pain or whatever, you know? Put pretty lights anywhere, and it’s a choice. 

Eddie has to admit that she has a point there, but the truth is he’ll smoke anywhere, fairy lights or no. Although there’s something, a capital-s Something about watching Steve framed by a thousand little lights smoothing out the worry lines on that beautiful face and making him seem all the more angelic for it. 

Eddie actually called him angel once — the first time they did it like this. Made Steve smile like nothing else Eddie’s said to him since. Or anyone else for that matter. If he were any better at feeling the ground beneath his feet and the air in his lungs, he’d call him that again. Make him smile like that again. 

But the ground is shifting and air is always scarce these days, with Steve’s hands on his body so fleetingly, so accidentally leaving marks on scar tissue, making Eddie wish he could feel more of Steve’s warmth there. 

Making him wish he could ask. Touch me higher. Lower. Longer. Make it last. Make it count. Let me feel it, just for a second. Let me feel it where they didn’t steal chunks of my skin and my soul and, apparently, my sanity. 

Argyle is the first to spread out on the blankets with a hearty groan that leaves everyone with a fond smile, gathering around him in a semi circle of amusement. He makes grabby hands at Robin, or maybe at the unlit joints she’s safekeeping — but either way, she follows suit, cuddling up to Argyle and in turn making grabby hands at Steve, who does as he’s told and laughs in that gentle, melodic way that they so seldomly hear these days. 

Steve’s eyes fall on Eddie then, but a surge of worry and panic overcomes him, half expecting Steve to follow Robbie’s and Argyle’s example and reach for Eddie next. Or not reach for him. Either way, Eddie doesn’t want to find out, his heart beating in his chest at the endless possibilities stowed away in his overactive imagination. Instead of waiting for Steve’s next move, he sits down right here at the opposite end of the blanket, reaching for one of the pillows so he can hug it to his chest and have something to hold on to, just to keep his hands busy. 

“Just don’t crush the goods there, birdie,” he grins, watching Nancy and Johnathan find a place to sit, too. He scoots over to make room for them, moving further from Steve in the process and feeling the distance in his chest. It’s so stupid. Fucked up, really. 

“Oh, the goods are plenty safe, my dude,” Argyle says, earning himself a giggly groan from Robin that sounds a lot like, Gross!

Jonathan throws a pillow in Argyle’s face, which he deftly catches with just as salacious a grin. 

Eddie tunes them out for a moment as he catches Steve’s eyes boring into him. He cocks an eyebrow and inclines his head, silently asking him what’s up in way less magical a way than he has with Robin. 

He doesn’t really expect Steve to react in any way other than maybe a shrug or a brief, reassuring smile that really has no meaning other than, I’m fine, except for all the ways you know I’m not. 

But Steve doesn’t smile. And he doesn’t shrug. He keeps his eyes on Eddie and fucking pouts. Looks like he’s not even aware of it, his eyes a little glazed already, seeming far away. Far away and right here and looking so fucking sad about it. About the few feet between them and Eddie being all the way over there. 

It’s a bit like the moment they shared earlier, with Steve looking so sad and Eddie wanting to do something about it. He couldn’t then. But now… 

Eddie’s breath hitches a little as he mirrors Steve’s position, falling backwards and leaning on his elbows., never once dropping his eyes. Stretching out his legs until he can nudge Steve’s ankle with his foot. Watching as those eyes snap down to the briefest contact in surprise, watching as Steve looks caught. And watching, too, as his lips twitch and his foot slowly, incrementally moves closer to Eddie’s like he can’t help it. Like he needs to touch him. Always, always needs to touch him. 

And Eddie can feel it there, so he doesn’t move away. He wants to hold his hand, wants to run his fingers through his hair and for Steve to do the same. He wants to breathe him in, wants to live in a Steve-filled world and feel welcomed in it. 

But he can’t. Because they’re not like that. And because this moment is not like that. And Steve is… Well, he is like that, he’s pretty sure. But maybe not for Eddie. Maybe not like that. 

Steve’s foot is warm against his, pristine white baseball socks so stark a contrast against Eddie’s;  threadbare and black, with more holes than fabric these days. He can’t really help the wave of embarrassment that washes over him, or the urge to pull back his feet and hide them in his shoes again. Sacrifice the warmth for safety.

But then Steve seems to notice just a second after Eddie does, and he smiles. Huffs a little with it, like it just bubbles out of him. Eddie wants to lean across the blanket and chase it. Chase the fondness and keep it there forever. 

And that’s another thing about Steve that is so very fucked up: he doesn’t let Eddie hide. He doesn’t let him trade warmth for security, because — smile in place — Steve slowly moves his feet along the side of Eddie’s like he’s playing fucking Connect the Dots with the holes in his socks. It’s ridiculous. 

It’s ridiculous, and Eddie is helpless. He’s so gone, a hundred percent. He’s so fucked up over that silly boy and the way he smiles at the most lamest of things. 

It’s not his fault that he leaves his feet where they are, the warmth of Steve’s slow, teasing touch shooting electricity up his legs that leaves him with goosebumps and a sudden case of uncomfortably tight jeans.

He’s glad there’s still a pillow in his lap. And he’s glad, too, that the night is dark enough, the fairy lights not bright enough, to reveal the flush rising to his cheeks as it feels like the bravest thing he’s ever done stay like this. To have Steve looking at him like this. Eyes hooded and intense. Like he sees right through Eddie. Like he likes what he sees. 

With a dull click, Robin’s Zippo pulls him back to reality in what must be the gentlest of ways, and Eddie manages a smile as he watches her gently place the doobie between Steve’s lips before she lights it, one hand on his cheek. Their faces light up, leaving the rest of the world in the dark, and Eddie is struck with how good they are together. 

There’s something in the way she lights the joint for him, some kind of love language from the girl who burnt down the hell dimension below them and left it in ashes, and the boy who held her hand through it. 

She holds his eyes as the flame dies and something passes between them as Steve slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Takes that first hit. 

Eddie’s smile falters as he watches, the glowing cherry coming to life and lighting up Steve’s face, revealing that relaxed little smile on his lips as he holds it in for five, six, seven before exhaling  around it in a slow, drawn-out way. He blows it in Robin’s face like he always does, and Robin laughs and shoves him back, like she always does. 

And Eddie wants to trade her place. Like he always does. Eyes transfixed on Steve as he takes the next hit and pulls the joint from between his lips. Holding his breath again. And Eddie wants to be held like that. Wants to fill Steve’s lungs like that, wants to leave an aftertaste that is both sweeter and biting as he does to Steve what that first hit does to him. Leaving him all soft and gentle and so, so at ease, his eyes droopy and all those lines of pain and worry smoothed out by him. Eddie. On his lips. In his mouth. Fuck, anywhere, really. Everywhere. 

He follows Steve on his exhale, his head getting a little dizzy with the lack of air, but still he is slow to breathe in again. It feels strangely intimate, watching him like this. Watching as that tension falls away and he hums a little around the bud — relaxed and relieved and appreciative. It feels like they’re the only people left in this town, in this state, maybe in the whole world. 

Eddie wants to stay alone like this forever, chase Steve’s breath and wish it would hit his face like that, caress his cheeks until the air around them claims it and erases all traces of Steve; but not from Eddie’s skin. Never from his skin. 

But they’re not alone. And Steve opens his eyes. And Eddie is caught. 

Still he doesn’t move, doesn’t look away as Steve blows out the smoke, sweet and earthy in the air between them as it slowly finds its way to him across the blanket. He imagines that he can feel it as the smell grows stronger, imagines the smoke to feel warm against his cheek as he breathes it all in, holding those hazel eyes in the dark that refuse to look away from him. 

It’s like that moment the other day in Steve’s kitchen when he was so close Eddie could smell all of him, frozen as he was, rooted to the spot — too scared to move and reveal himself, reveal all of himself, all the ugly truths and dreams. His wishes. His desires. 

Why do you keep looking? Eddie wants to ask. What are you looking to find? Am I just an experiment to you, are you looking at yourself through my eyes? Say something. Anything. 

But Steve doesn’t. He never does. Steve Harrington isn’t really the type to just say what’s on his mind, too used to Robin by his side to just read it all and react in her own way. Too used to Dustin, who’d do the talking for him. Too used to just letting his eyes, his arms, his posture convey his message. 

Too used to people knowing him. Getting a good read on him. But not Eddie, because Eddie never learned how to fucking read people like Steve Harrington cast in pretty light and relaxation. Angry, he can read him no problem. When he’s pissed, when he’s annoyed, when he’s sad. Tense. Worried. 

But not this. Never this. This intensity, this steady gaze resting only on him. He never looks at Robin like that, and he doesn’t fucking look at anyone else lately. 

It’s driving Eddie insane. 

It’s too much. 

He snaps when Steve passes the joint back to Robin, and sits up to pull his feet back to himself, covering them with his hands to pretend the warmth is still there. Frowns at the holes in his socks, feeling more exposed than ever. He curls in on himself a little, pretending to be very fascinated with a little thread that’s come loose in the blanket beneath him while the others hold casual conversation around him. 

This was a bad idea. He’s so fucked. 

Part of him debates if he should leave, if he should just call it a day and bid them goodnight. The other part of him wants to just close the distance between him and Steve and settle in beside him so the weight of that gaze won’t fucking wear him down any more. 

But knowing Steve, that wouldn’t work. 

Knowing Steve, nothing works. 

Feeling pathetic and small, Eddie lets himself fall to his side, hiding his face behind Nancy, whose hand comes to rest in his hair, combing through it just a little bit. Allowing him to collect himself. This isn’t new, and they don’t really question when Eddie just randomly lies down anywhere, or if he just stops talking all of a sudden. 

It’s why they do this, after all. No judgment. No questions. Just the sweet, sweet release of Mary Jane. 

It helps, having her hands in his hair like this, grounding him. It helps, finding no question or worry in her eyes as she looks down at him with a little smile — her way of including him in the conversation. He smiles back, just a little bit, and closes his eyes to better focus on her hand rather than the moment. She chuckles when he begins to purr, and then the smile stays a little longer. 

After a while, when she offers him the joint, Eddie shifts to lie on his back and gazes up to find the clouds have cleared and revealed the night sky behind them. It’s pretty, the summer sky, and he takes a long drag trying to think of nothing else. A hot wave of smoke hits his lungs, and it tickles a bit just like it always does, but the urge to cough it back out has been gone for years. These days, his lungs allow the warm embrace of the smoke and allow him to hold his breath as long as he wants, feeling a pleasant buzz after the fifth drag. It’s the good stuff after all. Munson’s Finest. 

He passes the joint back to Nancy, too comfortable to get up and pass it to anyone else, trusting her to do it without complaint. She does. She’s an angel like that. Puts her hand back in his hair and plays with his overgrown bangs a little while Eddie just stares up at the sky. 

Steve’s talking, but the words don’t really translate. It doesn’t matter, though. Just hearing his voice is enough for Eddie to sort of drift into a pleasant sphere of nothingness, his chest tightening a little with it. Always, always tight when he hears that voice. Like his heart has grown three times its size and his ribcage didn’t get the memo that Eddie Munson is hopelessly, helplessly, endlessly gone for a boy who refuses to look away. 

The thing is, Steve has always looked. Always. Even in the Upside Down. The first time, and the second. And then, the third. And Eddie wants it to mean something. Wants it to mean everything, or at least carry that possibility. 

But there’s no way to find out. There’s only him and the stars and Nancy Wheeler’s hand in his hair after his life took several wrong turns that left him with more scar tissue than skin these days, and the horrible realisation that, after the world ended and rebuilt, he can fall in love. That he can want. That he can have these cravings that he’d always heard everyone else talk about, wondering if that was just another layer of freak to him, or if he was simply Like That. 

They’re lonely realisations, he finds. Alienating, in a way. Because not only does he not know how to navigate Harrington, no, he’s a riddle even to himself right now. 

All he knows is that he wants to touch. To hold. To kiss. To crawl into him, on top of him, beneath him, and pull his own name from those lips in tiny little gasps that have nothing in common with the frantic gasps of panic after their first stint with the hell dimension. He wants a do-over. He wants a chance. A real fucking chance to have all these smiles, all these looks mean something. 

Arm outstretched, he reaches for the blunt again, taking it from whomever has it right now, aiming to shut off his brain a little more. Not to suppress it, but to shut it off. Even if that means he has to finish this thing. It’s fine. They have more. They always have more, because Jon and Argyle have an unreal fucking tolerance. 

With a chuckle, Nancy bypasses his hand and puts the joint between his lips and ignores his indignant hum. 

“Treat yourself”, she says, her voice wonderfully slow and lower in pitch. “I’ll be right back, yeah?” 

“‘Kay.” 

The warmth of her hand leaves his scalp, and with her body gone — getting up in way too swift a motion even for sober people — the night air seems a little colder. Eddie shivers a little, refusing to look at anyone, and just takes drag after drag, deciding he’ll finish this one. It’s his weed after all. 

By the sounds of it, Robin is already lighting the next one. Good girl. Smart girl. Best fucking girl in the whole wide world. 

Thick clouds of hot smoke waft through his lungs and all the way through his body up to his brain, leaving his arms and legs with a tingling feeling and his head with a pleasant buzz and tunes out most everything else around him. It’s great. It’s good. It’s wonderful. 

It’s why he doesn’t realise that the air is warm again and a body shielding him from everyone else until there’s a hand in his hair again. He opens his eyes to snark at Wheeler, but— 

It’s not Wheeler. It’s Steve. Knees pulled to his chest, chin resting on top as he smiles down at Eddie. 

Neither of them says a word, but Eddie’s breath hitches. Stops, stutters. Just like his heart. And yet all he can do is stare up. Wonder if it’s real. Wonder if it’s real. 

“Is this okay?” Steve whispers, fingers barely touching Eddie’s skin as he sort of plays with his hair. 

After a beat or two, Eddie nods, careful not to move too much. Careful not to chase those fingers and all the things they could mean. 

“Good.” 

And then Steve pulls the joint from between Eddie’s lips, and Eddie wants to warn him because this one’s close to the end and bound to be stronger, but it doesn’t seem to faze Steve as he just sucks in the smoke like it’s the first lungful of air he gets after a long day stuck inside. Smiling around the bud as it dies between his lips, he presses it into the grass beside him, extinguishing the last of it. 

He exhales, and Eddie can make out a tiny cloud of smoke against the night sky, watching as it wanders toward him. He waits for Steve to say something. There is what feels like intent in the movements of his hand, in the sudden appearance by his side, and in the way he— he fucking looks at him again. The sky is full of stars, the backyard full of fairy lights, and Steve Harrington is looking at him. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks at last, breaking the silence, wondering if his voice always sounds so small, so quiet, so endlessly tiny. Wondering if Steve even heard. 

But he did, because he smiles again. He did, because his hand stills. Touches Eddie’s skin. His scalp, his temple. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, looking from Eddie’s eyes to his own hand with something akin to wonder. Or marvel. 

And Eddie shivers again when that hand travels down. Caressing his cheek, definitely with intent. Electricity shoots through his body again, and the intensity in Steve’s eyes leaves him with goosebumps. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t dare. Barely even swallows as Steve bites his lip absently and moves on, trailing from Eddie’s cheek down to his... 

He’s touching his lips, and Eddie doesn’t breathe. Steve runs his forefinger along Eddie’s bottom lip, and in another world would he open his mouth and nip on his fingers or gasp at the touch and be better at this, be so much better at everything. But in this one, he lies motionless as Steve just fucking… explores. 

And his touch is so light, it’s so gentle, so sweet on the rough scar tissue, and yet so absent, it doesn’t have to mean anything. He could pull back his hands now and claim that Eddie had something there. He could pull back and live his life unchanged. Leave Eddie behind in this state of paralysis, changed irrevocably, and be safe. 

But that’s not what Steve does. 

Steve was never one to choose safety over bravery, and he has the scars to prove it now. The permanent stiffness of his back that barely lets him feel anything these days. The set in his jaw when he breathes through the pains phantom and real, the crease between his brows when the memory pains flare up. 

But his back is hunched in comfort now rather than in pain, and his shoulders are at ease. His lips are lightly ajar around a barely-there smile, and the skin between his eyes is smooth. Eddie wants to reach out and trace it, wants to caress it in the hopes that it’ll stay smooth forever. 

He’s so pretty. Golden light catching his skin in all the right ways, leaving him positively glowing with that look he gives Eddie. That look. 

Eddie’s never felt so exposed. So vulnerable. Laid bare, ready for dissection and willing to be taken apart in the hopes of letting him find what he wants and take it. Rip it right out of his chest. Now that he has Steve’s hand on his skin in the lightest of touches that’s anything but fleeting, he knows he would let him take anything he wants. Knows he would be helpless to stop him. 

Helpless in the face of that gaze that trails down to his lips now, if only to follow his fingers. 

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, barely moving his mouth at all around that single syllable. 

Golden hazel eyes flit back to his, and they widen a little. Like suddenly it’s Steve who’s caught. 

What are you doing? Eddie wants to ask. What are we doing? Don’t stop. Never stop. 

But words are for moments lighter than this one. Words are not meant for a world that’s changing. 

Maybe that is why Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s chin, tipping it up and turning his face toward him in a gesture so tender it’s almost possessive. Electricity shoots through Eddie again and the air between them is sizzling with it, sizzling because Steve is moving, shifting, dipping his head, his hand coming to rest on Eddie’s throat to keep him from moving away — except there is no force in his touch, and Eddie could still run. 

He could. He should, maybe. Like last time. 

But he is suspended in time, chained to the ground by the weight of Steve’s gaze and the hand on his throat, and his heart is beating so hard, so fast, that he is sure Steve can feel it. Imagines that those fingers move to find his pulse. Imagines that they find their home there, imagines that they hear the tales of stolen hearts and desires that leave his blood rushing. 

Imagines that Steve falters a little, hovering just above Eddie. Dreams of it all, dreams that this is real and that he can have this, just for tonight. He nods, and it’s a tiny little thing, far from enough to ruin this moment or wake him from his dream.

But then Steve captures his lips with such care that Eddie snaps back into his body and realises that this is no dream. Steve is kissing him. Hovers above him with one arm resting in the grass above Eddie’s head, his other hand pulling Eddie’s face towards himself and being oh so gentle about it. 

A whimper escapes him when this new reality settles inside his body, leaving him reeling and pulled towards a world of possibilities as those lips, those warm lips, rest so indulgently against his. 

No longer chained, Eddie carefully lifts a hand to Steve’s head, because Steve can feel him there, too, and because he doesn’t want this to end. Because he needs to touch. All night, all week, all this time he has needed to touch. To cradle. To hold. 

To keep. 

Steve hums, and those lips pull into a smile before closing around Eddie’s bottom lip. The first touch of Steve’s tongue has jolts of electricity and arousal zinging through Eddie’s body again, lingering this time and making a home in his legs that begin to tingle with want. 

Eddie opens his mouth, tilting his head a little to get a better angle, and is rewarded with the careful, addictive touch of Steve’s tongue against his. It makes Steve smile again, just for a second — but long enough to make Eddie’s heart jump. 

He chases those lips when they pull back, capturing them with a little hum as he realises he comes more and more unchained, regaining feeling and control over his body, his mind, his scared little heart. Steve doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, pushing Eddie’s head down into the grass again with an urgency that Eddie is beginning to understand matches the hunger he’s feeling. 

The hunger that is reserved only for Steve. It leaves him breathless, leaves him with the sudden need to gasp for air, but then Steve’s tongue is in his mouth again and maybe he doesn’t need to breathe ever again. 

He loses himself in the wet slide of their tongues that feels so sensual it’s almost obscene, and all he can do is tangle his fingers in Steve’s hair and keep him right where he is while Eddie himself lies boneless, all the blood rushing down, down, down. Every nip of Steve’s teeth as he devours Eddie so entirely and yet so innocently, so sweetly, so carefully, and every time he sucks on his lips or his tongue results in another wave of intense arousal. And Eddie is stuck in the riptide of it. 

It doesn’t take long for the first moan to break the silence, a gasped little thing, almost like an afterthought, and he’s not sure if that was him or Steve; but he doesn’t really care either way, because he’s so hard, he feels like he can come from just Steve sucking on his tongue alone. 

And isn’t that an enticing thought. 

“Steve,” he whispers, not entirely sure what he’s going to say, or if that’s really all he needs to say. All that’s left to say. Steve, Steve, Steve. 

The only response he gets is a breathy little, “Fuck,” and it sounds like a revelation. Like an epiphany. And Eddie wants to hear it again, wants to swallow all the little noises and murmurs and everything Steve will give him. 

“You’re so—“ Steve begins, interrupting himself with another deep, hungry kiss. “Fuck. You’re…” 

“Yeah?” Eddie counters, breaking the kiss by pulling on Steve’s hair a little. “I’m what?” 

Steve hesitates, panting breaths dancing over Eddie’s skin and he smells so fucking good. Eddie wants to lick the aftershave and perfume and sweat off his neck and keep the taste on his tongue for days. Dark, blown eyes wander over his face, and the hand that was on his throat comes up to rest on his cheek again in a gesture so gentle that it almost gives him whiplash. The hunger is gone — or, not gone, but unimportant now. 

Steve smiles, hazy but genuine and so, so sweet, eyes zeroing in on Eddie’s no doubt swollen lips. 

“Been wanting to do that forever.” 

Eddie’s heart jumps, falters, falls. Just a little. Just the rest of the way. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Wanna kiss you forever.” 

“Yeah, well,” Eddie breathes, voice barely there because his breath has well and truly been taken away, and this moment feels so fragile. So easily broken by quick movements or thoughts that are just a little too loud, just a little too soon. “‘M not gonna stop you.” 

Steve’s eyes snap back to his, and there’s something in there that not even the weed could ease away. “Yeah?” 

Eddie nods, frowning a little, wondering what makes him so unsure. 

“Cool,” Steve says, and it’s almost nonchalant and definitely charming in that way he always is. Makes Eddie laugh a little, his other hand coming up to wipe a strand hair out of his eyes. “So…” He trails off. 

“Hmm?” 

“Wanna stay here? Or go inside, or…” 

And then it’s not arousal that overcomes him but worry. And guilt. And a bit of fear, because that’s not what this is for him. Not like this. Not when they’re high, not for the first time. 

He swallows, schooling his face to cooperate and not give it all away right now, not give away how helplessly gone he is for that boy and how he would do anything Steve wants, how he would take anything he can get and try to make it be enough. But instead of choosing the easy thing and betraying himself, he moves his hand from Steve’s hair to his cheek, melting at the way Steve leans into it, moving his face to press a kiss to Eddie’s palm. 

“Steve,” he says, and his voice is shaky again. And small. So, so small. “That’s not what this is for me. I don’t… I wanna kiss you forever. And more. Much more. But not… I don’t—“ 

“Not while we’re high? Inebriated?” He says the word with a chuckle, referencing the way Robin will always use big words when she’s hammered. There’s a gentle sort of understanding on his face after the chuckle, though, and Eddie melts a little again. “Wanna do it right, hmm? Wanna treat me right and make sure I won’t regret it, angel?” 

Eddie whimpers at the sudden use of that nickname, because he’s not, but he does. He didn’t realise until Steve said it how scared he was — is — that Steve will regret this. The kiss. And anything that might follow. 

Not trusting his words right now, he can only nod, wondering if his eyes are as blown as Steve’s are. If Steve thinks he’s pretty, too. 

“God, you’re unreal,” Steve whispers, coming down again to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead, brushing them down to the tip of his nose. He leans into those kisses, tips his chin up to chase it, but Steve pulls away again, his thumb tracing the pout he leaves behind on Eddie’s lips. 

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie grumbles, watching the delight on Steve’s face and deciding that he’s addicted now. Fuck the weed, fuck everything else. Steve can get him just as high. 

Along with that thought, reality works its tendrils into Eddie’s consciousness again, and he looks around the backyard around them — but there’s only him and Steve out here on the blanket, framed as they are by the fairy lights. 

“Hang on, where are the others?”

Steve huffs, his face shifting into an expression of fond amusement and gentle annoyance. “Last time I checked, Robin and Argyle were raiding the fridge, Nancy was lying on the living room carpet, marvelling at how soft it is, and Jonathan was just kinda spaced out on the couch with a bowl of chips. Don’t think they’re gonna come out here again in the next half hour or so.” 

“How convenient,” Eddie grins, wondering just how obvious the two of them had been all this time. Wondering, too, if it can really be that easy. If he can have this. If they can; after everything they went through.

“Hmm,” Steve hums, his body shifting so he’s half lying on top of Eddie now, positively vanishing any and all thoughts Eddie could have spared anyone else. He would worry about the hard-on he’s sporting, but it becomes obvious very quickly that Steve has the same predicament. It’s enticing, feeling him against his thigh like that, and Eddie has half a mind to do something about that, especially when Steve keeps shifting against him. “So. Do you wanna make out some more before we light the next baggie? It’s fine if not. We can just… I don’t know, cuddle or something.” 

“Steve,” Eddie says, pulling on his hair a little bit to underline his deadpan. “What about I wanna kiss you forever was unclear?” 

“Hey, I said that first,” Steve retorts, digging his fingers into Eddie’s sides, making Eddie squeal and squirm right into his arms. “I also kissed you first,” he continues, sounding so damn smug about it. Eddie’s never wanted to kiss him more. “So I’m winning.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Eddie murmurs, pulling Steve all the way on top of him, his hands finding his way to those magnificent thighs, so firm underneath his grip. “‘M feeling pretty lucky right now.” 

“You think you’re so smooth,” Steve hums, dipping his head to hover just above his lips. 

“Is it working?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

They’re both laughing when their lips meet again, but that doesn’t deter them from kissing and tasting and swallowing moans like they’ll find new purpose in each other. Like they’ve already found it. 

Just like Steve’s hand finds his, weaving their fingers together and pressing him further into the grass. Eddie holds on tight, not ready to let him go anytime soon, and marvelling at how sensitive his hand has become. 

There is no urgency in the way Steve slowly begins to move against him, grinding their crotches together in slow, sensual motion like waves of the ocean gently lapping at the shore. Eddie meets him right where they both need it most, not once breaking their kiss even when it becomes open-mouthed panting and moaning that the other is trying to chase and swallow and keep only for himself. 

“You feel so good,” Steve rumbles, catching Eddie’s tongue between his teeth and pulling a high-pitched whimper from him. “So fucking good, Eddie.” 

“Don’t stop, Stevie, fuck.” He’s panting, his legs tingling with want and need and a weightlessness he’s never known before. “I know I said— We can stop. We can stop, we can, but— fuck, I’m close.” 

“Yeah?” Steve taunts, and oh, there’s purpose now in the the way he’s lifting his chest off Eddie, putting his weight behind the way he’s grinding into him. “You gonna come in your pants, baby? While the others are still inside? Means you’re gonna do this with me again later, right? Try again when we’re not high, hmm?”

“Yes,” Eddie rushes to say, working his fingers into Steve’s belt loops to keep him from stopping. “God, yes, I wanna—“ 

“I’ve got you,” Steve says, kissing the words right out of his brain, chasing his own pleasure, too. “God, you’re so pretty. So fuckin’ pretty, Eddie. Wanna come with me?” 

“Uh-huh,” Eddie can only nod and moan around all the words he wants to say, all those cheesy fucking words that leave him all the more vulnerable for how true they are. The tingly feeling builds in his legs, climbing to his core, and he wonders for a split second if Steve can really make him come like this — worries that somehow it’s not enough and that he’ll ruin this, that he’ll fuck it up and make it awkward between them because he doesn’t actually have any idea how his body works when someone else is taking the reins. 

But then Steve kisses him like that again, sucking his tongue into his mouth, holding his hand and groaning when Eddie moves in just the right way, and the sizzling pleasure finally finds its release. 

Eddie comes with a broken groan that Steve swallows greedily, panting into his mouth as, shortly after, his hips begin to stutter in their movements and he follows Eddie off the brink of this beautiful madness. Steve was always beautiful, there’s no question about that. But like this, face slack, kiss-swollen and spit-slick lips open around a silent moan as he grinds his trapped cock against Eddie’s, wrecked with aftershocks as his orgasm washes over him? He’s a fucking revelation that makes Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his skull, over sensitive as he is  and yet so helpless against Steve’s aborted little motions. 

Getting high on weed doesn’t compare to getting high on Steve. It’s a high Eddie wants to chase forever, and he starts by wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him down onto his chest again, just to hold him. Steve purrs as Eddie’s hand finds its way into his hair, combing it away from the sweaty skin it sticks to. He cages him with his legs, too, tingly as they remain on either side of Steve’s body. 

It’s stupid, maybe, and a bit much, but he wants to keep Steve like this for a little longer. Putty in his hands, his weight on top of him grounding him after that high, and allowing them both to come down slowly. 

“Man,” Steve says after a while, just letting that word hang in the air as he regains conscious thought. 

Eddie hums, prompting him to say what’s on his mind even though he’s scared he won’t like what he’s about to hear. Still, it’s only fair to let Steve say what he wants. 

“I like you so much.” 

Eddie holds his breath as he waits for the but. For the regret. But none follows. That’s really all Steve’s saying; and soon Eddie can’t fight the wave of giddiness that overcomes him. 

He hugs Steve a little tighter, not entirely ready yet to look him in the eyes and face this new reality they’ve kind of just created, needing to be a little scared for just a bit longer. But still he laughs, because scared is no longer all he’s feeling. There’s so much more now. So much more. 

“I like you so much right back.” 

Now it’s Steve who hums, shifting to lift his head and look at Eddie, but Eddie closes his eyes before Steve can catch them. 

“Said it first again.” A hand lands on his cheek again, just above the ugly scars that Steve doesn’t seem afraid to touch. “So I win.” 

And Eddie is looking now. Dares. If only to drive his point home when he says, “God, you’re so fucking lame.” 

“Is it working?” Steve grins, and Eddie never stood a fucking chance. 

“Unfortunately.” 

@izzy2210 here you go darling hehehe 🤍

[steddiealltheway]

Jonathan: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Robin and Nancy's convo?

Argyle: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.

Eddie: I'm in the washing machine.

Steve: I'm in the closet.

Argyle: We accept you Steve. <3

Steve: No I'm literally in the closet.

Argyle: Love is love. <3

[audhd-nightwing]

i love the trope where steve thinks robin knows he’s bi bc he’s been subtly hinting it to her (and by subtly hinting i mean extremely vague & mildly homosexual comments abt men) and robin has no fuckin clue, still thinks he’s the straightest man alive

and one day the spicy six are talking and robin offhandedly mentions steve is the token straight and everyone laughs but steve is just like “?? i’m not straight tho?” and everyone just goes silent. then robin drags him away for a Private Conversation on how joking about that isn’t funny until steve tells her he was being Serious and “i thought you knew?” and they realize they’re just both dumb

in the meantime nancy and jonathan are talking about how that actually explains a lot and they probably should’ve realized sooner while eddie is having a gay crisis in the corner and ranting to argyle

eventually robin and steve come back & steve officially comes out and bonds with jonathan and nancy abt being bi and into the elder wheeler / byers (bc let’s be honest he was into both of them) and eddie is like “oh shit i forgot to feed my cat i have to go sorry bye” and speeds tf out of there to go scream into his pillow and think gay thoughts abt steve harrington

bonus: after eddie leaves steve asks everyone if they think he has a chance with him and they’re all like “obviously”

[laheymaze]

he is my worst enemy | part two

✨eddie munson✨ x fem!henderson!reader <3

he is my worst enemy, part two <3

PART ONE HERE! :) 

requested by: nightshadered

summary: you and eddie start secretly dating, eddie is wildly jealous of steve, and dustin is a classic buster once again <3

warnings: language, mentions of sex, not proof read!

*takes place right before season four*

--------

When Eddie said he'd see you around, he wasn't kidding. He started coming over to 'hang out with Dustin' as much as possible, started 'accidentally' bumping into you in the hallways and at lunch, and began rushing out of Hellfire just to see you in the parking lot before you and Dustin went home. This boy was head over heels for you, which was a hundred percent reciprocated by you.

You didn't know of his feelings, though until Eddie was magically early to pick up Dustin for a Hellfire Club 'retreat' and Dustin wasn't home. You went to your room to show Eddie your new AC/DC vinyl record and he was amazed once again that you like that music too.

"Ok, Y/N, I'm just going to say it." Eddie randomly burst out when you were showing him the record.

"Say what?"

"That you are the most beautiful, incredible, and coolest girl on the planet and I want to kiss the shit out of you right now and basically every second that my eyes land on you." You were taken back by Eddie's bold statement. You smirked.

"Then why haven't you?"

Eddie rushed up to you, grabbing your face and forcefully putting his lips on yours. After a few seconds, the kisses slowed down and became more gentle. Eddie's hands moved to your waist and pulled you even closer. Your hands getting lost in his hair. Your moment ended as soon as you heard the front door open, Dustin entering your house. You both pulled away from each other, Eddie quickly doing his best to hide his obvious boner.

"Sorry to make you wait with your worst enemy, Y/N. Eddie, you gotta stop getting here so early." Dustin told him, completely oblivious.

"No problem, Dusty-bun. I was showing Eddie my new vinyl anyway." Dustin rolled his eyes and dragged Eddie out the door of your bedroom, telling him all about his new D&D bag you made him. Eddie smiled while Dustin was bragging about you, and winked as he left your room.

Ever since that day five months ago, you and Eddie had been stealing much more than kisses every chance he got. Stolen glances, virginities, and a lot of time were in the mix too. Eddie snuck into your bedroom window almost every night, and he pulled you into some random janitor's closet at school when you had five extra minutes before class. You both decided keeping your relationship a secret was better, and also would be better for Dustin. You could handle the retaliation of dating Eddie 'the freak' Munson, but you didn't want your little brother to be bullied for it too.

This was another secret night of Eddie sneaking into your room, having to be completely quiet while he fucked the shit out of you. Out of breath and giggling like crazy, Eddie pulled you close to him, running his fingers all over your body, giving you chills. He traced your tattoo under your boob and kept his attention on that.

"So ummm how long have you and Steve been friends?" Eddie asked, clearly remembering that Steve took you to get this tattoo.

"This again?" You questioned, laughing.

"Well it's in an intimate spot and I'm just curious how well you know him if he was there." Eddie said, drawing out his words so he doesn't sound jealous.

"We've been friends since my freshman year. Like I said, we've been through a lot of shit together and I trust him with my life. Him going with me to get a tattoo isn't a big deal."

"What kind of shit?" Eddie inquired.

"The Dungeons and Dragons kind." You told him, not completely lying. Eddie just nodded his head in defeat and continued running his hands all over your body. You both slowly starting to fall asleep, you silently thankful that he didn't keep pressing the issue. You didn't want him to know about all of the monsters and things that go bump in the night.

—

"Welcome to Family Video!" Robin greeted Eddie as he walked in.

"Hey! I need a movie called 'Sixteen Candles.' It's my girlfriend's favorite and I wanted to surprise her with a movie night." Eddie told Robin, Robin's face filled with shock.

"You have a girlfriend?" Robin questioned while grabbing the movie from behind the counter. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You just don't seem like the type to settle down. Plus, I've never seen you with anyone."

"We like to stay private." He told her. Just as he said this, Steve came out from the back of the store. Eddie's eyes followed him.

"Have you heard from Y/N at all? She's been blowing me off lately and I have no clue why." Steve asked Robin as he walked in, then nodding his head at Eddie. "Is this the last Sixteen Candles? I wanted to surprise Y/N with it later since it's her favorite movie." Steve added, looking at the tape on the counter. Woah, are you fucking kidding? Eddie thought.

"I think little Henderson said she's been super busy with school, and yeah it's the last one," Eddie told Steve. Steve gave him a questioning look.

"That's right, you're Dustin's new best friend who is way cooler than me because you play that nerdy game and I don't. Did you steal Y/N from me too? Because if so, tell her I will hunt her down and force her to watch 'The Outsiders' with me. She hates that movie." Steve told Eddie, Eddie burning with fire. Why in the hell did Steve 'The Hair' Harrington know everything about you? Eddie paid for the movie and walked out of the store as fast as he could without saying something he'd regret. "Why was Eddie Munson renting 'Sixteen Candles'?" Steve asked Robin.

"He said it was his girlfriend's favorite," Robin responded.

"You don't think him and Y/N are together, do you? She would've told me, right?."

"You're making that judgment based on the movie he rented? Every girl likes that movie." Robin pointed out.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll still probably go over later though to make sure she's doing ok. It's not like her to not call or come hang out here."

—

Later that night, Eddie snuck into your window at about eight, holding up 'Sixteen Candles' and your favorite snacks. You smiled brightly and gave him the biggest hug, kissing him immediately.

"Y/N?" You heard Dustin's voice from your walkie-talkie.

"What's up?" You answered.

"I think I just saw a shadow from outside, it looked like a person. Can you go check?" You rolled your eyes, Eddie laughing at you and your brother.

"Why do I have to go? You're the boy."

"But you're the badass one who has literally kicked a demodog's ass and killed it. You go." Your head shot up to look at Eddie and you assured him he was talking about some stupid D&D level.

"It's probably nothing, just get some sleep."

You didn't get an answer from Dustin, instead, your door flew open and Dustin stood there, extremely confused. He looked around and saw your window wide open.

"What the fuck?" Dustin questioned. You and Eddie stood there looking at him, wide-eyed.

"I was bringing over Y/N's favorite movie since I was at the Family Video store today. She asked me to pick it up." Eddie quickly said.

"How would you know her favorite movie? When would she have told you to pick it up for her? She would've gone on her own since Steve works there." Dustin told Eddie. Eddie's jealousy burned again.

"Dustin." You got your little brother's attention. "Eddie and I are dating. We have been for months. I didn't tell you because we didn't want you to get bullied for it. It would make your life even more of a dumpster fire. We didn't want that." You told him.

"Did you tell Steve? I thought you told us everything."

"Ok seriously, what the fuck is it with Steve?!" Eddie finally broke. "Today at the video store he knew everything about you and complained that you don't talk to him as much anymore. I knew you were friends but clearly, you are way closer than that!"

"Woah, when did I become the bad guy here? Can we focus on my brother not killing us first?" You shouted.

"Why would Dustin kill you?" Suddenly, Steve appeared in the doorway. Your favorite flowers in hand.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Eddie shouted. Your eyes shot to Steve, giving him a face that clearly shouted 'bad timing dude!'

"Nothing is going on between Steve and me, Eddie! We are just really good friends!"

"Then why does he know your favorite flowers and movies, and why did he go with you to get that tattoo!"

"Why has Eddie seen your tattoo?" Steve added. You were ready to drop dead at any moment. Why was this happening?

"EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!" You yelled at the three boys. They all looked at you, stunned. You turned to Dustin first.

"Dustin, I'm sorry we didn't tell you about us. We were just thinking about you and how you could be affected by it. You know I love you and would do absolutely anything to protect you." You told your younger brother, referring to previous encounters with the Upside Down.

You turned to Steve. "I am so sorry that I haven't reached out lately. Eddie and I have been dating for months and I am also sorry that I didn't tell you either."

You turned to Eddie next, walking up to him and holding his hands in yours. "Eds, I promise you that nothing is going on with Steve. If I even told you what we've gone through, you wouldn't believe me, and I would never want you to be dragged into that. I have been in love with you since that day I dropped Dustin off for Hellfire for the first time. You are the only one I want to be with, and just because The Hair saw me get the tattoo, doesn't mean he has ever seen it like you have." Eddie smiled at your words and kissed your forehead.

"I'm sorry," Eddie told you.

"Robin is going to hear it from me tomorrow. When you left the store today I told her I had suspicions about you two dating and she told me I was wrong! I knew it!" Steve shouted. "If you're happy, I'm happy. Just don't break her heart or I'll kick your ass."

"Please, you've never won a fight." Dustin scoffed.

"Actually, he beat that Russian, remember?" You pointed out.

"Russian?" Eddie questioned.

"Long story. Group hug!" You pulled the three boys to you and smiled.

"I still want to know why he has seen your tattoo," Steve said sternly.

"You wish, Harrington."

------

I LOVED THIS!!! it's always so fun writing fics like this.

make sure to like and reblog! :)

[hairmetal666]

Steve has a problem. Not a big problem--not an Upside Down-sized problem--but still. A problem. In the form of Eddie Munson. And not the person Eddie Munson, who is second only to Robin in the hierarchy of Steve's heart, but his feelings in regard to one Eddie Munson. Namely, his enormous, devastating, gay crush on the guy.

And he knows, okay, he knows Eddie is gay, but that doesn't mean he wants Steve. Eddie is probably into other metalheads or dnd nerds. What could Steve, with his sports and his polo shirts, possibly have to offer?

He's coping, though. Or, at least, he thought he was until the Family Video phone rings and Jonathan invites them to the New Year's Eve party he and Argyle are throwing at their new apartment.

"We have to make a no-date pact." He tells Robin as soon as the phone is back in the cradle.

"Or you could just ask Eddie."

"You could just ask Nancy." He raises an eyebrow.

She lets out a slow breath. "Yeah, okay. No-date pact. I'm down."

It's just as easy to get Nancy and Eddie on board. Nancy just laughs and says "yeah, like I'd bring a date to the party my ex-boyfriend is hosting with his new boyfriend. How you do you even start to explain that dynamic?"

And Eddie snorts right in Steve's face (it's not cute, it's not), says, "Right, cause my dating pool in Hawkins, Indiana is just ripe with guys who want to ring in the New Year with me."

Steve wants to say that he would be that guy, happily, giddily, but he can't risk blowing up his second most important friendship like that, not when Eddie's never given a fraction of a hint that he wants Steve too.

But that's his problem solved, right? The four of them aren't bringing dates. Easy-peasy.

Unfortunately, Steve's life hasn't ever worked out like that, and the party turns out to not be only their little end of the world crew and a handful of people Jon knows from his grocery store job, but an actual motherfucking party.

It takes almost ten minutes for him and Robin to navigate through the sea of strangers to find Jon and Argyle handing out solo cups in the kitchen.

"Who are all these people?" He shouts over the pounding music, nothing like Steve's ever heard.

"Argyle got a job at the record store down the street," Jon yells.

"Co-workers." Argyle nods. "And a few of their friends."

"A few, right."

"The more the merrier. Right, my dude?"

"Sure." Steve takes a cup. "You seen Eddie around?"

"Living room, last time I looked." Jonathan answers.

"See you around?" Robin asks.

"At least meet up for the ball drop," Argyle answers.

They push their way into the cramped living room, and Steve searches for that familiar cloud of hair, the ripped black jeans. It takes a minute just for the sheer amount of bodies pressed into the small space, and when he sees him Eddie's--

He's standing against a wall, next to the stereo (of course), but there's someone with him. Someone who is tall and leanly muscled in a way that Steve isn't. Someone with long hair pushed back from his forehead. Someone with facial piercings in places Steve didn't even know you could pierce and tattoos and a chain hanging from his worn blue jeans and a bandana in his back pocket, just like Eddie.

And Eddie he's--he's gazing up at this dude with clear stars in his brown doe eyes, body angling towards the other man like he can't help but push more into his orbit.

Steve turns hard, Robin colliding with his side. "Steve, what the--oh."

"I hate New Year's Eve," Steve sighs, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It's always been the kind of holiday that is high on expectation and low on follow-through.

"C'mon, I think I spotted Nance over by the bedroom."

He lets Robin guide him across the room, steadfastly not looking back at where Eddie is very obviously finding himself a date. It's okay, Steve reasons. It's okay because that was obviously the kind of guy Eddie would be into it. He knew he had, like, no chance. He shouldn't be disappointed. He shouldn't.

The evening slips away in the shove of people, in the solo cup that manages to always be full in his hand, and he tries as hard as he can to ignore the way Robin and Nancy start sharing the same space.

So much for the no-date pact. He would laugh if a sort of deep loneliness wasn't seeping into his bones.

There's a girl, though, across the room. She's in a short dress and glances at Steve from under hooded eyelids. He could make a move; could have someone to kiss at midnight; have someone just for the night. But then--his heart makes a pathetic patter--Eddie.

Eddie who is practically in that stranger's lap.

He goes out for a cigarette.

When he comes back inside, it's five minutes til midnight and Nancy and Robin are dancing slow and sweet to a song that is neither.

He's happy for them, almost incandescent with it, but the loneliness sinks deeper, reaches marrow, especially after he fails to find Eddie in the crowd.

Steve thinks it might be time to give the whole failed endeavor up for good, but Jonathan and Argyle, both in tiny 1987 novelty top hats, appear at his side.

"Stevie-boy!" Argyle bellows. He lifts Steve at the waist, twirling him, and Steve laughs despite himself.

"Keeping busy?" He asks.

Jonathan pounds him on the back, just a little too hard.

A guest yells from deep in the apartment, "one minute to midnight!" and the music turns off, the TV tuned to Dick Clark and turned up.

Nancy and Robin find their way over, Robin mouthing "sorry," on her way. He pulls her into a side-hug; he'll never begrudge her any happiness, even on his worst day.

From across the room, there's a crash, a short yelp, and then a familiar head of fuzzy brown curls makes its way to them.

"Sorry, sorry." Eddie apologizes as he shoves through the other guests.

"Hi, guys!" He beams at them, cheeks flushed. Steve looks away so he doesn't have to think about how beautiful Eddie is; about how he's not the one who made him blush so pretty.

The countdown on the screen reaches 30 seconds, and the party goers start chanting.

"What happened to--?" Steve can't help but asking.

"Psh, that dude? He's a punk. Plus, I couldn't imagine ringing in 1987 without you guys by my side."

Steve blushes and rolls his eyes. "Sap." He knocks his hip into Eddie's.

"You love it," Eddie wraps him in a loose hold.

The count is down to 10, the ball almost dropped, Jonathan and Argyle and Nancy and Robin making soft eyes at each other.

"What's going on in that head of yours, sweetheart?" Eddie knocks his head gently against Steve's.

"It's nothing."

"You're pouting." Eddie mimics him with a poked out lip.

The count is down to 5.

"Fuck, I just--I wanted to have someone to kiss at midnight, you know?"

The ball drops, the year changes over, the room cheers. His coupled up friends cling to each other in soft, joyous kisses.

Eddie's eyes flick to their friends, to the guests, all kissing and embracing and celebrating, then back to Steve.

With two careful fingers, Eddie lifts Steve's chin, makes it so he can't look away.

"Fuck it," Eddie says. He leans forward, kisses Steve with soft authority.

And Steve just--he just fucking--crumbles into it. He makes a soft noise, curls his fists into Eddie's t-shirt.

Eddie's hands work their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Steve goes eagerly, crushes their bodies together.

They kiss and they kiss, and it's already so far from a friendly New Year's kiss, but then Eddie's tongue swipes into Steve's mouth, and the kiss breaks.

"Um," Eddie says.

Steve can't respond because all his focus is on not giving into the weakness in his knees and collapsing to the floor.

"I've wanted you to do that all night," Steve says.

"Oh." Eddie's face blossoms into a slow smile. "Me too. A lot longer than that, actually."

It's Steve's turn to smile, and he does, so hard it hurts his cheeks. "Me too."

Eddie presses their foreheads together. "Happy New Year, Stevie."

Someone starts singing Auld Lang Syne loudly and off-key, but they're quickly drowned out by a chorus of accompanying voices.

"Happy New Year, Ed."

Steve pulls him in for another kiss. 1987 is already shaping up to be the best year of his life.

[disjointed-art]

Suggestive steddie drawing 🤭

Grab that peach Eddie boy

Apparently I’m in my pink era…

I also am starting to question my style again in coloring and just general drawing. I hate my brain ugh. It’s ok I just need to draw what I want and doodle. Hopefully I get out of the goblin mind.

[starrystevie]

"i need a favor."

it's simple enough for steve to hear even over the loud music in the club, and it definitely grabs his attention away from where he was staring blankly into the dancing crowd. he pulls his eyes to the person standing in front of him, gaze trailing over their form before settling on their face. he's cute, steve thinks, with his curly dark hair and big brown eyes that he could see himself getting lost in. he's cute enough for steve to listen to whatever favor he could possibly need.

"umm, hello to you too?" steve says it like a question, his eyebrows quirked up and a smile pulling at one side of his mouth. "what kind of favor might that be?"

the stranger smiles and sits in the seat next to steve, setting his beer on the table beside steve's nearly finished jack and coke. he's closer than he was before and steve can appreciate his face even better this way.

"it's my ex. you see," the stranger slings an arm around the back of steve's chair, pulls himself close so that he isn't having to scream as loudly over the booming club beats. "he's here and i knew it would be stupid to think i wouldn't run into him in the only queer club around, yet here he is. and here i am."

"is there supposed to be a favor in there somewhere?"

the stranger grins and steve suddenly gets the feeling he's a bird who's been cornered by a cat.

"well, i was hoping you might be able to help me. he knows i have a... weakness for pretty boys and you just happen to be the prettiest one here."

steve's heart thumps in his chest, strong and impatient as he watches the neon lights flash off this guy's teeth. he always thought he was the smooth one with all his charm and charisma, but this stranger was sitting next to steve like it was any other day and not like he had the possibility to turn his world upside down.

"help you how?"

the stranger's grin grew wider and his eyes not so subtly flicked down to watch steve's lips. "kissing would be a good start, then letting me drag you to the dance floor so he could see us. and maybe if you're feeling a little crazy, we leave together, make it seem like you're coming home with me. he's watching us right now, you know?"

steve gives him a blank stare as he tries to not let it show just how much fun he thinks it all could be. he's there alone, anyway, trying to drown his loneliness in his friend jack daniels, so what's stopping him from playing a little bit of pretend?

"and what's in it for me?" is what steve finally gets out, his breath stuttering minutely in his chest when he feels a palm cover his leg.

"what do you want?" the fingers squeeze around his knee.

it makes steve stop and think for a moment. he thinks long and hard about material things like at least 3 drinks bought for him or dinner after they escape together or paying his cover so they can get in to the bar down the road that plays shitty music but has a good atmosphere. but there's one thing steve could really use, something he doesn't get the chance for, something that this random guy's money wouldn't have to cover.

"an adventure."

there's no way to tell who moves first, whether it was steve fisting his hand into the guy's hair to close the distance between them or if it was the firm pull on his leg that turns him towards the stranger. it's messy, right off the bat, with a tongue pressing insistently against steve's lips that he's happy to meet with his own. the hand on his leg is a grounding touch that keeps steve from floating away, warm and strong and there.

the man's other hand wraps awkwardly around to rest on steve's waist as to bring him in closer and the force of it has steve stumbling out of chair and settling instead on the guy's lap. two hands wrap around his waist now and his own go back into the guy's hair, threading through the stands and holding on firmly.

"okay yeah, you were definitely the right choice for this, holy shit," the guy breaks away to catch his breath and grin at steve who sends him a grin in return. "you are so..."

he doesn't finish, lets his lips say the words he couldn't as he connects them with steve's once more. it's hot, both in temperature and otherwise. steve can feel a bead of sweat start to roll down his back as they kiss and roll against each other for lord knows how long. one of the stranger's hands comes to rest just above steve's ass and it has him pushing back into the touch before he can tell himself to stop.

"dance. we uhh," steve says breathlessly as he pulls away from the man. his eyes are hooded and his lips are slick and kissed red, the flush on his face visible even under the dark club lights. steve thinks he might already be a little bit in love. "you said we have to dance."

the hand that was trailing down to his ass makes its way to it's destination and presses firmly, so steve follows, lets himself be manhandled until they're sitting chest pressed to heaving chest.

"sorry sweetheart, you aren't moving anywhere just quite yet."

lips connect to his jaw and it feels like it's exactly where he's supposed to be. steve pushes into the man's space, gets them as close as possible to savor the moment. he doesn't get to have fun, not much anymore at least, with his job keeping him so busy he hardly even gets to see his friends. it's nice to push every real life responsibility to the side and be in the moment with a random man from a club.

"so what does he look like, your ex?" steve mummers against his ear, low and sultry. "is he looking at us now?"

he feels the man chuckle against him before kissing his way up his neck. "he's pretty standard looking, don't think i could describe him to you if i tried."

"okay but," he's cut off by lips pressing quickly onto his own before steve pulls away once more. "i need to know who i'm putting a show on for."

the man sighs, rests his forehead against steve's collarbone for a beat before biting at it playfully. "let's just say you're putting on a great show regardless of who it's for."

steve pulls back even further, watching the man roll his eyes as he tries to follow him with his mouth. "and i thank you for that, but really, where is he?"

the man pauses and every bit of confidence that was on his face melts away until he looks younger, looks almost nervous. he sighs again and drops his hands from where they were kneading into steve's sides before running them through his hair with a sad sounding chuckle.

"he's nowhere."

now it's steve's turn to pause. his thighs that were clenched so tightly around the man's legs release and he slumps down with a frown pulling at his mouth and arms crossing over his chest.

"explain."

"i just," the man winces, face crinkling up before settling back into something more neutral. "you're like insanely hot, which i'm sure you know, and i needed something so i could talk to you so-"

"so you lied? there's no ex?"

"... there's no ex."

steve's done more thinking in the last 30 minutes than he expected to in the entire evening. he didn't come out to a gay bar to think about anything and yet here is, contemplating a fucking pros and cons list about where to go from there. does he yell, punch him for lying, storm out and end up back home all alone in a empty apartment? it would serve the guy right, letting him stew in his guilt for lying so he could make out with someone.

"i'm steve," he says after making up his mind, hand extended out in front of him.

the stranger grabs it shyly, shaking his hand up and down slowly while he stares at steve. "i'm eddie?"

"is that a question?"

"no, i'm just-" he cuts himself off and shakes his head as if to clear it, pinning steve with a confused glare. "you're not mad?"

"mad, no. at least i don't think so. confused as to why you think you couldn't just talk to me, yeah."

the man, eddie, runs a hand down his face and pulls it away with a cheeky grin that makes steve smile at him back. "i'm sure you've looked in a mirror! you know why i couldn't just talk to you!"

it has steve laughing, full belly ache inducing laughing, in eddie's lap in a gay bar on a night that he planned to waste by being drowned in self-pity. he doesn't think he's ever had a weirder night and it's funny. he lifts his leg and stands up, watching the smile disappear from eddie's face to be replaced with a frown. he reaches down and grabs eddie's hand, pulling him to his feet and watching a beautiful smile spread back across the other man's face.

they're the same height, he realizes, as he presses his mouth to eddie's ear.

"i think you owe me a dance. and," he pauses, looks eddie in the eye and lets his hand travel to eddie's ass to pull them as close as possible. "-an adventure."

[leniialu5]

They love eachother very much :)

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 (Perv!Eddie x Perv!Reader) Eddie is such a perv, constantly wanting to fuck you and do things to you that friends definitely didn’t do. Who knew that a storm was all it would take to change that? 

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭  Absolute filth (18+ only, MINORS DNI or I will fuck your dad into oblivion), pillow fucking, humping but no penetration, dirty talk, unprotected sexual activity (use protection please!!), squirting, mommy kink, voyeurism kink if you squint, Eddie and reader being pervs. 

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 I have no excuse or explanation other than I am a stupidly horny fella and couldn’t stop thinking about this for a while. Perv!Eddie can do whatever he wants to me at this point, I don’t care. Might write more of perv!Eddie if enough people like this and I don’t get shadowbanned. I should really post my stuff on AO3 just to be safe lmao. 

If asked about it, Eddie would say that he definitely wasn’t a pervert thank you very much. That he’d never once thought about you as anything more than a friend.

However, that was as far from the truth as he could get.

It had started six months into your friendship. Up until that point, his dirty thoughts and filthy fantasies had never been related to you. The adult films and magazines he kept hidden under his bed had been inspiration for his perverted thoughts, the men and women in them his sole focus as he thought about every single thing he wanted them to do to him and vice versa, fisting his cock desperately to the over exaggerated sounds the actors in the videos made.

But then the focal point of these thoughts and fantasies and even his wet dreams changed when he accidentally walked in on you getting changed into some clean clothes. He hadn’t seen much, just the curve of your ass in your white cotton panties and a sliver of boob as you’d pulled on one of his shirts over your bare chest. He was out of the room just as quickly as he’d stepped in, embarrassed about walking in on you like that, but the image of your barely clothed body was tattooed permanently onto his brain.

From that point on, his fantasies had morphed so that you were all he was thinking about. His cock sliding leisurely in and out of you beneath your panties until he came on the fabric and made you continue to wear them so that his seed was pressed against your skin and cunt. You riding him on the teacher’s desk inside a locked classroom, your moans and cries loud and needy and alerting everyone outside to what you were doing and who was eliciting those sounds from you. Sliding his rock hard dick between your tits, your tongue flicking out against the tip before he came all over your chest and face. Pushing your head down into a pillow and making you cry from overstimulation as he thrusted in and out of you at a punishing pace, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room as his headboard banged against the wall.

Eddie had often excused himself when you hung out with him, desperate to find the nearest bathroom or rest room so that he could quickly rub one out, but it was never enough. The thoughts still remained, and he had to do it at least twice to satiate him until he was able to take care of himself properly in the privacy of his room when nobody else was around.

And then there were the times when he was at your house. He’d lost count of the number of times since that day that he’d stolen a pair of your panties and taken it home with him to wrap around his aching cock and fuck into a pillow while picturing it was your wet heat that he was burying himself into. He always made sure to wash them after he used them and snuck them back into your panty drawer whenever he was next in your bedroom. He thought he was being very discreet about it; you’d never confronted him about it after all. However, stealing panties just wasn’t enough for him after a couple of months. He wanted to touch you – to fuck you – so bad and no pair of panties in the world would ever feel as amazing as he knew your pussy would.

Then the storm hit.

You’d been hanging out with him for the day now that he’d finally graduated, watching movies with Wayne and eating takeout to celebrate. About an hour after Eddie’s uncle had gone to work, the rain had started falling a lot harder and faster until there were reports of flooding throughout Hawkins all over the news. There was no way you were going to get home until the storm stopped and flooding subsided, so Eddie insisted that you stay the night and sleep in his bed while he took the sofa. It had taken a lot of arguing and a game of rock paper scissors to convince you to take his bed, but now you were sound asleep in his room wearing nothing but one of Eddie’s Hellfire shirts and a pair of his boxers. The fact you were asleep and not doing anything that could be interpreted as even remotely sexual didn’t stop him from getting hard as he lay under a thin blanket on the sofa. He was picturing the way your chest was rising and falling as you rested, your nipples hard and showing through his shirt with an arm tossed back over your face while your other rested on your stomach with your legs slightly parted. And you were wearing his clothes, which made him even more hard. He couldn’t help but palm his crotch over his pyjama pants, the friction good but not enough. It was never enough.

Knowing he could get into a lot of trouble and probably permanently ruin his friendship with you, he threw the blanket aside and crept into his bedroom to grab one of his pillows. His eyes raked over your unconscious form as he did so, biting his lip at the thought of waking you up so he could fuck you into the mattress until you were screaming his name. If he didn’t leave now, he’d never stop thinking about it and that would lead to him feeling far too tempted to go through with it for his liking.

As he turned to make his way back to the living room, his bare foot got caught in some fabric and he bent down to move it, freezing when he saw the familiar white cotton of your panties. The same panties you’d worn when he’d walked in on you changing clothes. He knew he shouldn’t, but he picked them up and held the crotch up to his nose, inhaling the scent and having to bite back a moan at the smell while his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was addicted to it, the scent never failing to make his cock even harder. He made sure you were still asleep then licked at the crotch of your panties, whimpering softly at the faint taste you’d left behind. It was at that point he realised that there was no turning back now. Even if he wanted to, he was never going to be able to think of anyone other than you when he touched himself. You were going to haunt him until the day he died.

Eddie quickly bent down again to pick up your discarded t-shirt and took both items and the pillow back to the living room with him. Wayne had called earlier to say he wouldn’t be back until noon the next day because of the flooding, meaning he had the living room to himself to do whatever he needed to in order to get his release. He listened out to make sure you were still sound asleep as he pulled your t-shirt over the pillow, his mouth dry. He could say that he couldn’t believe what he was about to do, but that was a lie. This was exactly the sort of thing a dirty pervert like him would do.

And he fucking loved every minute.

Pulling down his pyjama pants to his knees, he hissed when the air hit his leaking dick. The head was an angry red with a bead of pearlescent precum dripping out of it. He pulled up the sides of the pillow as he rested his cock on it, biting his lip as he began to rock his hips a little. The perfect friction against his sensitive cock made him toss his head back, gripping both sides of the pillow with one hand so that it encompassed him. It was nowhere near what he imagined your walls squeezing and milking him would feel like, but it was as close as he was going to get.

“Fuck, mm, yeah, you like that?” he murmured as he slid his cock in and out of the makeshift pussy he’d tried to create, thinking about you with your legs wrapped around his waist and your feet pushing against his ass to drive him deeper inside you. He brought your used panties up to his nose with his free hand and inhaled deeply. His moan was high pitched as he picked up his pace, already desperate to cum all over his pillow. He wondered if he came hard enough whether it would get on your t-shirt too. The image of you finding the clothing he’d soiled and putting it on, gathering some of his cum on your finger and sucking it into your mouth with a groan, made his hips stutter as he began to fuck the makeshift pillow pussy harder. He licked the crotch of your panties again, desperate to have your taste on his tongue as he got himself off.

“Somebody’s being a dirty boy, aren’t they?”

Your voice had him panicking, immediately stopping his movements as he tossed your panties away from his blushing face. He knew that being caught in the act was supposed to make him feel embarrassed and ashamed, but the thought of you seeing him fuck himself on a pillow clad in your shirt while he breathed in your panties made him want to keep going and show you just what a fucking mess you made him.

He watched as you moved closer to the sofa he was kneeling on, your hands making him drop the sides of the pillow. He almost came there and then when you bit your lip and moaned, his cock twitching as you gazed down at it. A shiver ran through his body when you teasingly trailed a finger from the base to the tip, dipping it into the slit to collect some of his precum. You stared into his eyes as you licked the digit agonisingly slowly.

“What’s wrong, Eds? Aren’t you gonna fuck that pillow for me? Or would you prefer something a little different?” you asked.

He shuddered and groaned quietly. “I didn’t –”

“Didn’t what?” you cooed, slowly pulling his boxers off your body and kicking them aside. “Didn’t think I’d catch you? Didn’t think I knew what you did with my panties every time you came over to my house? Didn’t think I’ve heard you getting off in the bathroom thinking about me?”

Whimpering, Eddie nodded his head and watched as you moved your hand to between your legs and pulled it back to show him your wet, sticky arousal all over your fingers. He obediently opened his mouth when your prodded them against his lips, sucking them and licking them as he fisted the pillow beneath him. He loved the way you’d tasted in your panties, but this? This was far better than he ever could have imagined.

“I’ve been waiting for months now for you to just take me,” you told him. “Wanted you to just grab me and fuck me until I’m cock-drunk and can’t think of anything other than how good you make me feel. Been touching myself every single night thinking about you. Had to buy a dildo and hide it in my closet so I could fuck myself on it thinking about you and that dick of yours, but it’s never enough. I’m constantly craving the real thing and I’m tired of waiting for you to bend me over and fuck me against the kitchen counter.”

He mewled and started to rock his hips against the pillow once more as you spoke. Never in a million years did he think that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you, nor that you were just as perverted as he was.

“Please,” he begged, your fingers dropping from his mouth. “Please touch me. Want you to make me cum so bad. Need you.”

You smirked as you took his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Seeing as you asked so nicely…”

He could’ve climaxed there and then when you moved to straddle the pillow he was fucking, the lips of your cunt on top of his cock. You both sighed out a moan as he slid between your folds and the pillow slowly, your slick coating him. Eddie glanced down at where your bodies met and watched him move in and out of your slit. His focus was quickly torn away from the sight when your grabbed his hair and yanked it so that he was looking at the lust-filled expression on your face.

“Look at me when I’m helping you to cum. I could’ve just left you like this and made you watch me get off, rubbing my clit at the sight of you so desperate you’d fuck a pillow just to get some relief,” you demanded, making him release a choked out gasp.

“I’m sorry, mommy. You’re such a good mommy, letting me cum like this,” he replied, almost sobbing.

As you smashed your lips into his, tongues meeting as you pulled his head in the direction you wanted it to go, he began to roll his hips a little faster. His fingers flicked against your clothed nipples as he leaked more precum onto the pillow and he relished the way your hips bucked against him. He allowed one of his hands to stop playing with your nipples and started to rub your clit in hurried circles.

“Good boy.” You praised him while you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva remaining between your mouths. “You gonna make me cum, baby? Gonna make me soak your cock and pillow while you desperately fuck the pillow? Such a dirty boy.”

His hand that had been pinching your nipple moved to grab your waist as his movements became sloppy, his climax quickly approaching at the combination of your pussy on top of his dick, the friction of the pillow beneath you both, and your sinful words. You grabbed the hand that was touching your clit and guided his movements, moaning as he touched you exactly how you liked it. You were jerking into his touch and gliding back and forth over his hard cock as he started to whine and whimper. The moment he felt you clench on top of him as you cried out, squirting over his cock and hand, he threw his head back and groaned while he came. His hips continued to jolt forward as you kept grinding down on him until he finished cumming. Both of you panted and clung to one another as you slowly came down from your highs.

When you were ready, you climbed off the pillow and admired the mess the two of you had made. Your shirt was covered in your cum and his and the bottom of Eddie’s tank top was soaked, his cock glistening as he shakily stood up and pulled his pyjama pants back up. Your lips descended upon his before he could say anything, your hands cupping his face while he rested his on your hips.

“Mm,” you murmured as you backed away from his lips. “You were such a good boy for me, Eddie. Next time don’t make me wait six months. If you want to touch me, kiss me, fuck me, whatever, do it.”

He searched your face for any hint of teasing or joking. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You laughed. “And say what? Oh Eddie, I want you balls deep inside of me while I bounce on your cock in the back of your van where anyone could catch us by looking through the windows?”

He groaned and felt his cock twitch in his pants. “Please tell me we get to keep fucking like this. I don’t think I can go back and pretend this never happened.”

“Sure. But on one condition.”

He nodded frantically. “Anything.”

You felt him shiver as you ran a finger down his chest. “Take me on a date next Friday. Pick me up at 8:30pm and take me out for a burger and milkshake. Then you can take me home and fuck me silly while you tell me all the dirty little things you wanna do to me. How’s that sound?”

He grinned excitedly and lightly pressed his lips against yours. “Yes, mommy.”

[raynecreates]

Peeks at this month’s spicy Steddie sketches 🔥

[ See them on my Patreon ]

[kennahjune]

Jealous?

Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)

.

Eddie had a problem.

A Steve Harrington sized problem.

Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.

It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.

Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.

Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.

The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.

They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.

“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.

Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“

That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.

“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”

“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”

Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”

Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”

Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.

And that was how it went.

A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.

And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.

Until—

Until.

It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.

They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.

Tonight was no different, except for one thing.

“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.

Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”

Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.

“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”

“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.

“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.

Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.

“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.

Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.

Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said

“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”

Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”

The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.

As it stood, Steve looked good.

He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—

“Eddie!”

He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.

“Huh?”

Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”

Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.

“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”

Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.

That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.

Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.

The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.

He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.

The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.

Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.

It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.

After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.

“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.

But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.

“So?”

Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.

“Soooo…?”

She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan snickered.

“Wha—“

“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.

Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”

“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.

“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.

Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.

“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.

“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.

Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”

Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.

“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.

Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.

He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—

And?

Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.

“Steve!”

Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.

“You know him, doll?”

Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.

“Yeah—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”

Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.

The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.

Who was absolutely red in the face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”

Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.

“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“

“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.

Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.

“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.

Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.

Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.

Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.

For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.

Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.

“Hi.”

All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.

“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.

“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.

“He’s alright.”

Six heads suddenly turned on him.

“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.

“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Well I hadn’t exactly—“

“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.

The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.

“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.

Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.

“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”

“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.

It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”

Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.

“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”

Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”

Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.

“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.

Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.

“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.

Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.

(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)

So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”

That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.

Then they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?

Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.

“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”

The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.

“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.

“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?

“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.

“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”

Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.

“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.

“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”

Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.

“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”

Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.

The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”

Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.

“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.

The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.

“You didn’t have to punch him.”

“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.

Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.

“Was it cause he was an ass?”

Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“

And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.

“And?” Steve prompted.

“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”

Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.

“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”

Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.

“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”

Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”

Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“

That startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”

And wasn’t that a thought.

What changed?

Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.

So that’s changed.

But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.

What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.

But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.

“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.

Or maybe he did express them aloud.

He’d drank more than he thought.

And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.

They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.

By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.

“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.

“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”

Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.

“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”

Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.

Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.

So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.

.

It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷