#insecure Steve Harrington

[italiansteebie]

eddie loves steve's moles

eddie had just gotten out of the shower, watching as steve inspected himself in the mirror.

"i think i want to get this mole removed," steve trailed, hands gliding over the bump on his neck, frowning as he does.

eddie whipped around to face him, wet hair slapping him in the face, pulling a laugh out of steve. "what?"

"i wanna-"

"yeah, yeah, i heard you. why would you do that?" eddie said, waving his hands all dramatically. steve roller his eyes, and shrugged.

"i dunno. aren't they kinda... ugly?"

eddie blanched, mouth opening and closing in shock, trying to get the words out. "steve. you did not just say that- i- oh my god."

steve looked at him with an expression that read 'unimpressed.'

eddie moved in closer, putting his hands around steve's waist, pulling him in. he placed a gentle kiss on steve's neck, right beside said mole, "i love your spots, baby. they aren't ugly. not at all." he whispered, hands rubbing circles into steve's hips.

steve looked away and sighed, "really?" he asked, voice small.

eddie nodded, grabbing steve's hand and leading him to their bedroom before proceeding to lay steve down and kiss each and every one of steve's moles, freckles, and beauty marks.

and if by the end they were both flushed and breathless, well. that was for them to know.

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (48)

part 48 of ?? | 1013 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

“I have to tell her,” Steve groans, rubbing his hands over his face and slumping onto the couch next to Eddie. “I can’t keep this up.”

We're nearing the end and I'm slowing down on posting because I'm still working on it, but y'all can have some fidgety Eddie and an insecure Steve Harrington as a treat.

48.

“So what’s the deal, Steve?” Robin huffs the next day. “You and Eddie totally blew us off last night, what the hell was up with that?”

“It’s not like you watched it alone,” Steve points out. He’s trying to pretend that bustling a stack of returned tapes back to their correct places on the shelves of Family Video is too important a task to look away from, unprepared to meet her gaze. “You had Nancy and Jonathan and . . . that sweater guy.” 

It feels as though as soon as she looks him in the eye she’s gonna know he asked Eddie if he could be Eddie’s boyfriend, and Eddie said yes. But he’s not sure if they’re telling people, because they haven’t gotten around to talking about that part yet. Kind of got distracted by . . . other things. 

“Argyle.” Robin rolls her eyes, despairing. “That sweater guy, unbelievable. You should know his name by now.”

“Robs. You know we end up smoking any time we hang out with that guy. I ask every time, and then I just forget it again because I’m all high!”

Eventually Steve manages to turn the conversation in enough circles that Robin loses the original thread. She’ll pick it up again, but at least he’s bought himself some time. 

-

“I have to tell her,” Steve groans, rubbing his hands over his face and slumping onto the couch next to Eddie. “I can’t keep this up.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t yet,” Eddie admits. He’s still wide-eyed and strangely fidgety from the revelation. “Because, yeah, obviously she’s a force to be reckoned with, I’m kind of worried about my chances of survival, but . . . it’s you and Robin. You two share a brain.”

Steve groans into his hands. “God, I know. I mean . . . she knows I like you. That’s most of it, right? I told her nothing was ever going to happen, but—”

“Nothing?” Eddie interrupts, zeroing in on the word. “Why not?”

He peeks at Eddie—at his boyfriend—through his fingers. “Uh, because I didn’t think you liked me?” 

And he can feel his face warming under his palms as he says it, so he’ll keep his hands right where they are, thanks. At best he was being stupid and at worst he’ll turn out to be somehow right, neither of which sound good. Not that this is helping. . . . Trying to pussy out of being honest with his best friend isn’t a good look. (His dad would say that it’s pussying out to feel obligated to be honest about the relationship in the first place. Even to owe them the truth, because ‘you don’t come out on top by owing, Steven.’)

Eddie’s mouth forms a few different, interesting shapes, starting with O and morphing into something that shows off his dimples. “Of course I like you. You’re you, what’s not to like? Wheeler must’ve been crazy to let you get away.”

It’s nice to hear. Still, Steve notices, he’s chewing on his bottom lip like there’s something serious on his mind. Fuck, is Eddie about to break up with him after one measly day? Because that would be so—

“Jeff knows,” Eddie blurts out. 

And that. Is. So far from what Steve was expecting that his hands drop to his lap and he goes still, even stops breathing for a second. They’re sitting close enough that their sides touch; Eddie must feel the way he freezes, because he starts babbling to fill the sudden vacuum in the conversation. 

“He figured out something was up about a month after I started blackmailing you, and he asked, and I just—I cracked, man, I—”

“Eddie.” Steve turns to him, tugging on the far side of his denim vest. (Not the one Eddie had thrown at him in the Upsides Down. That one is still tucked into the back of Steve’s closet, too embarrassed to give it back because no amount of cleaning seems able to work the bloodstains out.) “Eddie, breathe, okay? Give me a second.”

Eddie settles, relaxing a tiny bit when Steve keeps their sides pressed together on the couch. In the following lull, Steve thinks hard. 

Does it bother him that Eddie told Jeff?

He’s surprised, but that’s because he’d known from the start that he couldn’t tell Robin. She would’ve been pissed off and protective on his behalf, and she would’ve tried to talk him out of giving Eddie money. What would have happened to Wayne then? No, telling Robin had never been an option. The only other person Steve could possibly confide in was Dustin, and that was also an absolute no-go for a lot of reasons. Dustin looked up to Eddie, still does, and Steve hadn’t wanted to fuck with that.  

Jeff, despite the insider knowledge, hasn’t given him any shit. He’s actually seemed to give Steve a fairer shake than the rest of Eddie’s friends, going out of his way to interact with him in the D&D game. That takes a lot of the sting out of the surprise. 

“Does Wayne know too?” he asks finally. 

Eddie groans and pulls a handful of hair across his face. “Yes. I told him everything when I was still drugged up at the hospital. The supernatural shit too, but . . . everything. Jesus, did he say something to you?”

“Kind of. He said I should let you keep apologizing.” Thinking back, a small smile pulls at Steve’s mouth. “And he called me son.”

That gets Eddie to peek out at him, and Steve doesn’t know what the look on his face means—lips slightly parted, a light flush spreading across both cheeks, tilting toward him with big brown eyes open wide and sparkling with something warm—but he likes it. Wants to figure out exactly what caused it and keep doing that forever. For now, he shifts to his side and pulls Eddie in for a kiss. From the way Eddie's lips stay curved under his, it seems to do the trick.

His internal jury is still out on whether he deserves all this, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

[sleepyeye17]

Part 2 of Queen Steve

Words: 664

Notes: This is a sequel to my last short bit, which can me found here, but this can also be a standalone.

Everyone is at Eddie’s new apartment. It’s a small apartment in a cheap complex built to house the people displaced in the earthquake. It was meant to be temporary, but they’ve been here for over a year now. Eddie and Wayne don’t mind. It’s bigger than the trailer was, and it’s two doors down from Max and her mom, which is nice.

The table in the apartment is too small for the whole gang, so they’re eating while lying on the floor. Tonight isn’t a game night, it’s just a general hang-out. Steve is here, bringing pizzas and soda and a big salad that he mostly eats on his own. He and Eddie still haven’t told the kids about their relationship. They certainly haven’t told anyone that Steve does drag in Indianapolis on Saturday nights. 

“Eddie has a girlfriend in the city,” Lucas says, out of the blue. Steve turns to Eddie, looking surprised and anxious.

“What!” Eddie says, “I do not!”

“You do. Max and I saw you come home last night.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Max says. “I’m fucking blind, you insensitive elbow.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“Forgiven,” Max says simply.

“Anyways, I saw it,” Lucas corrects. “Max and I both heard it. I was bringing Max back from the movies, and Eddie brought a girl home. I saw him take her into his apartment.”

“I heard something,” Max says. “I thought it was Steve though.”

Steve’s eyes are wide and terrified.

“Me!? Not me!”

“It wasn’t Steve,” Lucas says. “It was a girl. She was blonde.”

“Was she hot?” Dustin asks. 

“She looked like Dolly Parton.”

The room explodes with shouts of disbelief.

“You’re lying!”

“I swear,” Lucas says, holding his hands up defensively.

“You’re fucking with us!”

“Why would Eddie pull a Dolly lookalike? That’s not his type at all.”

“How would Eddie pull a Dolly lookalike?”

“Dolly is everyone’s type.”

“Alright!” Eddie looks hard at Steve, hoping that he’ll trust him on this. Steve looks like he might run for the hills before Eddie can do damage control. “First things first. I did not bring home a girl last night.”

“Lucas, you liar,” Mike shouts, smacking Lucas in the arm.

“I saw it!” Lucas yelps.

Eddie holds up one finger.

“Quiet.” 

They fall silent. Eddie knows how to command a room. 

“I didn’t bring a girl home last night. I brought a goddess home. And don’t you ever forget it.” He holds up another finger. Steve’s blush could stop traffic. “SECONDLY. I resent the implication that I can’t get a girl. I can, if I want to. I just usually don’t want to. THIRDLY. My type, as you call it, does not run exclusively to freaks. I am an equal opportunity destroyer. I will now allow for five questions, but I do maintain veto power."

“What’s her name?” Mike asks.

Eddie looks to Steve. Steve’s drag name is Connie Cushion, and Eddie could tell the kids that name without revealing Steve’s identity. But Steve gives an imperceptible shake of his head. Steve’s drag persona is still very personal, and he isn’t totally ready to share Connie with anyone, even if the kids don’t know it’s him.

“Her name is Nunya,” Eddie said. “Nunya B. Swax.”

The kids groan in protest.

“I told you, I maintain veto power.”

“How did you meet her?” El asks.

“At a bar in Indy.”

“Is she a musician?” Dustin asks.

“She sings sometimes, and she can also dance. She’s also a beast at baton twirling.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Mike asks.

“No. She really does twirl a baton. If I was going to make a euphemism it would be better than that.”

“Does she actually look like Dolly Parton?” Max asks.

“She does, although she has brown eyes. She is blonde, and has big hair. She likes wearing white leather jackets and combat boots.”

“Is it serious?” Will asks.

Eddie can feel Steve watching him. He swallows and licks his lips.

“That’s up to her,” he says. 

“Man, you’re whipped,” Erica teases. 

Eddie meets Steve’s gaze and grins. 

“Proudly.”

[kreoreo]

Universe where there's no upside down, no vecna, no lab

Steve and Eddie eventually getting together but Steve keeps dodging Eddie's moves to do something more than make out.

Eddie starts getting worried, he thinks maybe Steve isn't actually attracted to him. He knows it isn't true, but he is an anxious person.

One night, they're kissing, Eddie is straddling Steve like usually, things are going well.

He asks Steve if he can take off his shirt, and Steve seems to hesitate before nodding. It feels like a big step to Eddie, even if he doesn't know why.

Eddie, a bit oblivious to Steve's sudden nervousness, notices his scars.

"OH MY GOD LOOK WE MATCH!!" and takes of his shirt, they both indeed have matching scars across their sides.

Steve suddenly feels a lot better in his body

[morganbritton132]

Eddie and Jeff are doing a podcast interview over zoom during COVID lockdown when Steve passes by in the background of Eddie’s screen. You can’t see his face, just a faded Metallica t-shirt and a hand briefly resting on Eddie’s shoulder as he goes.

There’s some laughing from the people on the podcast about Eddie’s answer being interrupted and one of the podcasters say: For those just listening at home, it looks like Eddie is not spending this lockdown alone.

Eddie, joking: Yeah, yeah. That’s my husband…for now

Eddie: And forever!

Eddie: Judging by the look I just got, that was not a funny joke

Jeff: Uh, yeah, man. I could’ve told you that

[hungharrington]

i’m almost 22 and have never even kissed a boy (which i’m chronically insecure about). it’s made me feel very nervous regarding intimacy or “doing it wrong”. i feel like steve would be great coach and reassure the reader it’s okay and that they’re doing great. nothing to embarrassed about. (my soul needs this so bad)

hi honey !! i think you r so right & steve would be the perfect guy to give all the assurances <3 i hope u know that kisses don’t matter too much til they’re with someone you’re rlly sweet on so i wouldn’t sweat it angel x this one is sfw! wowzer!

You’re on your couch and in Steve’s lap and worried about just about everything. 

Steve’s being sweet about it, his hands resting gently on either side of your waist, his thumbs swiping up and down to comfort you. He’s watching you closely, unaware he’s just taken your first, second, and third ever kisses. How could he know? you think, on the side of insecurity— it seems everybody else your age has already kissed someone. 

“You okay?” He asks, hazel eyes tracing over the soft features of your face. He loves your nose and the shape of your bottom lip— strange things to like perhaps, but Steve doesn’t care. 

You nod but don’t say anything. The motion is a bit jerky. Your hands are planted on his shoulders, holding them probably a bit too tight. Exhaling a breath, you nod again and pretend the fondness in his gaze isn’t making you shy.

“Yeah,” you finally speak, voice smaller than you intend. “Just- just wanna like—“ you swallow, eyes darting to the ceiling for a moment, if only to avoid his intense eyes. “I wanna get this right.” 

A car engine drones by outside in the dusky evening. Steve gives a little chuckle and his hands on your waist tug forward, pulling your attention down and your body an inch closer to his. It’s warm— every part of him is glowing warm. 

“I don’t think there’s any way you can get this wrong,” He admits, awfully sincere about it. 

It’s the truth. Steve likes you a lot. You could probably bite his lip too hard and make it bleed and he’d still find it pleasant. You have that effect on him. 

You don’t know that though. So, every stress seems very, very real. Are you kissing firm enough? Too firm? God, are your lips too dry? 

Your tongue flicks out to wet them, your hands giving his shoulders a nervous, minuscule squeeze. In your chest, your heart is torn between rabbiting in its anxiety or shrivelling in insecurity. 

“I mean,” you laugh a little, if only to cover your embarrassment. You duck your head to avoid his face, murmuring, “If there is, I’m sure I’ll find it. I haven’t, uh, exactly done this… too much.”

“That’s fine,” Steve says instantly. His warm, large hands give a tender squish on your waist, before sliding up and around to curl snugly around your body. He sits up a little straighter, his nose nudging against yours. 

“No, Steve,” you say, cheeks a touch heated. You count his eyelashes so you can avoid his eyes, you voice dropping volume towards the end of your sentence. “I mean, like… like ever.” 

Surprise flashes in his eyes for only a moment. His gaze darts down to your lips quickly but then he’s smiling, nudging closer, and stealing a quick kiss off your lips. Now he’s taken your fourth kiss too. 

You flush, something warm pinging its way up your spine. 

“That’s okay,” He murmurs, sounding like he really means it. 

“It is?” 

“It’s great. You’re great.” He kisses you again—your fifth— so sweet it tastes like sugar on your lips, his arms around you pulling you in closer. You drown in it, enamoured by how it feels to have his lips against yours. God, he makes you dizzy. 

Steve breaks the kiss but stays close, his arms pulling you closer still so you’re straddling him properly. He’s warm, so warm— and so freakin’ nice to you. 

“You don’t find it weird?” You can’t help but whisper. Your eyes crush closed, unable to face him. 

“Weird?” Steve echoes. “Are you kidding me? It’ll take more than that to freak me out.” 

One of his hands shifts up, moving up off your waist to cradle your jaw gently in his large palm. He peppers a string of kisses along your cheek and jaw, beginning to suck a sweet spot beneath your ear. Your hips shift before you realising, subtly grinding down into his. Flames begin to burn in your stomach. 

“It’s—I mean it’s kind of, like, a little embarrassing, don’t you think?” You continue, voice a little breathier than before. You’re not sure what you’re trying to convince of him of— you certainly don’t want him to stop. 

Steve’s lips brush over the barely forming bruise on your skin and your breath hitches. 

“Are you feeling embarrassed?” 

One slow kiss against your neck, his plush lips accompanied by the heat of his tongue. You squirm in his lap but don’t answer, fearful of being too truthful. You are and you aren’t. He isn’t making you embarrassed but you are, just a little. 

Your silence makes Steve pause, digging his face out of your neck to meet your eyes. “Hey. You shouldn’t be embarrassed- if you are for some other reason, we can— we can like stop—“ 

“No.” You cut in, God, now you’re seriously giving him the wrong idea. “No, oh my god, I sound so stupid- it’s not you— Steve—“ 

He cuts you off with another kiss, your sixth, and steals your runaway thoughts. It blissfully chases away your nerves for just a moment. 

“Great.” He smiles against your mouth, giving another squeeze of your waist. “Cos you don’t need to be.” He kisses your mouth again, seven. “All you need to be is enjoying yourself, okay? 

You like the sound of that— adore the way he’s so seamlessly finds the thing that sets your nerves alight and soothes it so easily. You whisper back, “Okay,” and gift him your eighth kiss, sweet and fierce. 

[livwritesstuff]

Hazel posts a tiktok captioned “p sure they had an actual argument after this lol”

It starts with a view of their kitchen where Steve is cooking at the stove. Hazel can be heard giggling behind the camera, and is presumably the one filming when Eddie walks into frame.

Eddie: Steven – question.

Steve: *turns to face him, already looking unamused*

Steve: Yes?

Eddie: Okay.

Eddie: Hypothetically speaking…

Eddie: Do you think you’d be more mad if I cheated on you with someone older than you or someone younger.

Steve: *eyebrows fly up practically into his hairline*

Steve: You can’t be serious.

Eddie: *looks at him expectantly*

Steve: Okay, here’s one for you then, if we’re playing games. Would you be more mad if I cheated on you with a man or a woman?

Hazel adjusts the camera just in time to catch the way Eddie’s wicked grin completely vanishes.

Eddie:

Eddie: Never mind, this isn’t fun anymore.

Steve: No, now I wanna know.

Steve: What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it, big guy?

Hazel flips the camera to face her.

Hazel, wheezing with laughter: Oh god, this was not my idea. That was all Da-

*end of tiktok*

[eddiethebrave]

🩷 part four

one two three

334 words

About halfway into the movie, Eddie pulls his face back the tiniest bit and Stevie doesn’t notice until the boy is nuzzling her like he had as a joke earlier, except he’s not joking anymore. Stevie can feel his lips pressed to her skin. It isn’t a kiss, per se, but it isn’t not a kiss, either. His cold nose makes her want to squirm away, but she’d rather die than do that, so she deals with it until he warms up and then it’s just perfect. 

Stevie squeezes where she’s still holding onto his forearms and Eddie freezes minutely, not knowing it was a stay right there squeeze and not a what are you doing squeeze. Then, she starts caressing his skin with her thumbs soothingly, and he relaxes with a small sigh.

Stevie hums in approval when he snuggles in closer and she can feel his lips lift into a smile. 

He’s so sweet.

It’s another ten or so minutes before either of them moves again.

Stevie’s been apprehensive since the thought first crossed her mind, but after thinking about it non-stop since they’d cuddled up, she decides to just go for it. 

She, ever so slowly, begins to trail her hands lower on Eddie’s arms until finally, she reaches her destination and untangles his hands - he goes easily. She lays her own over the backs of his and intertwines them. 

Stevie’s heart is in her throat. No way Eddie’s reading this as platonic cuddling anymore, and that’s because it isn’t. There’s a loud voice in her head telling her to stop stop stop, that it isn’t safe, but she ignores it because, besides Robin, no one has ever made her feel as safe as Eddie does.

Still, she’s waiting for him to pull away, or something equally as detrimental, but he only holds her tighter. 

Even then, although she’s enjoying herself, that voice comes back. He won’t want you once he knows what you are. 

The rest of the night is bittersweet.

taglist

@jaytriesstrangerthings @wheneverfeasible @chameleonhair @yesdangerpls

[italiansteebie]

Eddie was always asking Steve something.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“How do you get your hair like that?”

“What did you dream about last night?”

And everytime it was about him. And that’s what had Steve confused, because why did someone so interesting like Eddie Munson want to know about boring old Steve? I mean, what you see is what you get with the guy, there’s not much to him. But Eddie seemed to be interested in it. 

Now, Steve wasn’t dumb, he could be a little airheaded but, he can tell when someone is flirting with him, and boy, was Eddie flirting with him. He didn’t mind it though, not one bit, because if he was being honest, he had a huge crush on the guy. He was super smart, and creative, and he already liked the kids that seemed to always be hanging around him, and damn. He was kind of out of his league, but Eddie was flirting with him, and Steve was in no rush to stop it. 

So when Eddie asked his questions, Steve always answered with not much of a second thought, though there was always that lingering question in the back of his mind that wondered why Eddie wanted to know these things. It’s not like he was all that interesting, but Eddie always responded with genuine interest, and well. It made Steve feel good. No one had ever taken the time to ask him questions like that, they always seemed to just… Figure it out in their own time, through passing conversations, or some other situation. 

So yeah, Steve really liked when Eddie asked him about himself, but he didn’t realize the effect it had on him. 

—

It was hellfire night, Steve offered to host, maybe it was just an excuse to talk to Eddie, but no one else had to know that. Eddie was downstairs setting up, and Steve and Robin were in the kitchen. Steve was rambling on about something he’d seen on TV about sharks, (He just thought they were cool, okay? Leave him alone), and Robin had been nodding along humming occasionally. 

Dustin came bounding around the corner, arms full of snacks he’d brought for the meeting. “Uh oh! Let's go downstairs, Steve is talking about himself again!” He sing-songed, earning a giggle from Robin, which honestly hurt. He didn’t realize people hated it so much when he talked about his interests. “Hey? What’s wrong with sharks?” He sighed, looking at Robin who only shrugged. “You just… Have a tendency to ramble and well… It’s not that interesting.” Dustin said, painfully blunt as always. Steve hid his hurt with an eye roll and a scoff, “Whatever. Get out of my kitchen, Henderson.” He said, pointing towards the basement door, where he could hear Eddie shuffling around. 

The kids and the rest of hellfire trailed down the stairs, leaving Steve and Robin alone once more. 

“Is it really that annoying when I talk about stuff?” Steve asked, tone ringing with sincerity. Robin walked over to him, worming her way into his arms, “Steve, you know I love you. And you’re a really cool person, sometimes, but. Ever since hanging out with Eddie more, you’ve started to ramble, and well. It’s just… Kinda…” She trailed. Steve backed away from her, “Oh my god! You think I’m annoying?” He scoffs, “See if I listen to any more of your rambles, Bobs.” He says, pushing her gently. 

He hoped it came off as casual but damn. If Robin thinks he’s annoying well then… 

So he pulls away a little bit. Not just from her, but from everyone, including Eddie. 

—

It comes to a head five days later, Eddie and Steve are hanging out in the trailer, watching MTV. A commercial pops up about a new hair care product that Steve’s been hearing about, and he lights up. “Hey! That’s the thing I was telling you about! The one where it- uh. Nevermind.” He said, catching the beginning of his ramble, leaning back into the couch and sighing. 

Eddie turned to him, “Why’d you stop, Stevie?” concern written all over his face. Steve sighed, shaking his head, “Nothing I just- I know it’s annoying when I talk about the stuff I like because no one else in the group likes it so I just. I’ve been trying to like. Not talk as much I guess?” He admitted, ducking his head. He felt Eddie shift suddenly, and soon enough the metal head finagled him into his lap. “Steve. I love when you talk about the stuff you like, because your face lights up and you get so into it and well. I like to learn about you, you pay so much attention to everyone else around you, I just felt like you deserved to have the favor returned.” Eddie said, placing a hand on Steve’s cheek. 

“Really? You don’t think it’s like, annoying or anything?”

“Steve, you listen to me ramble for hours about lord of the rings and I know you have no idea what I’m going on about half the time. If you can sit through that, and listen to our hellfire sessions, then I can only do the same for you. And don’t say it’s different because it’s not. Your interests are just as special as any of ours.”

Steve sniffled, trying to hide the fact that he’d teared up at Eddie’s speech. 

“Awe, Steve are you crying? I- Did I say something wrong?” He asked gently, Steve shaking his head frantically. “No, no. Not at all, I- No one has ever wanted to get to know me like this, I’m just. Happy. Yeah,” He said tearfully, wiping his eyes. Eddie held him closer, and Steve relished in the feeling.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

“I’m falling in love with you.”

Eddie paused, and there was silence.

Steve shifted suddenly, pulling out of Eddie’s grapes and standing up. “Eddie, I am so sorry, I shouldn't have sprung that on you like that. I’m so-” Eddie cut him off, standing and grasping his waist. “Steve. The more I get to know you, the further I fall for you. I uh. I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” He said, eyes flickering down to Steve’s lips, feeling his breath on his face. “Okay,” Steve breathed, a smile spreading on his face as they leaned in. 

They shared a sweet kiss, Eddie’s hands wrapped around Steve’s waist, Steve’s hands tangled in the metal head’s hair. They pulled away slightly, “Stop smiling so much, it makes it hard for me to kiss you,” Eddie murmured, unable to keep his own smile off his face. “I can’t help it.” Steve sighed, resting his forehead against Eddie’s. “I know, baby, me either.” Eddie said, tone close to something of bliss. They stayed in that position for who knows how long, swaying to the music that played quietly on the TV set. 

—

And the next time the kids tried to cut Steve off of his rambles, Eddie countered the attack with a “Next time we’ll just make out instead.” Which earned a groan from the kids and hellfire, and somewhat of a fond look from Robin who tried to hide it by rolling her eyes. “You guys are so gross!” She called. “We know!” Was the response she got from Eddie, who couldn’t be bothered to hear what she had to say next because he was ankle deep into a conversation with Steve, and he was so locked in to what he was saying, Steve might as well have been reciting ‘Star Wars.’ 

[were-wolverine]

okay i cannot shut up about them

steve being the one average intelligence friend among fucking geniuses (most of which are like fucking 13 year olds / all of which are younger than him) must be so damaging to his self esteem

because he’s only surrounded by child prodigies, a literal genius that’s fluent in several languages, and (probably the valedictorian if she wanted to be) a badass genius journalist, he has no example of what average intelligence is and just assumes he is stupid

which is not helped by the fact that everyone looks down on him/calls him an idiot/expects him to know everything!! so they just enforce this belief that he’s stupid and less than just because he’s not as intelligent as the rest of them

and then along comes eddie munson who failed senior year twice, yet is an amazing storyteller and genius DM, who knows about all these cool things and guess what? dustin looks up to him!

and steve knows dustin isn’t replacing him but dustin thinking he was cool was one of the only things holding his facade together

and then robin is only thinking about vickie and of course steve wants to help and he listens and gives advice, but robin was the only one who was around, who hung out with him, who listened

and max is isolating herself, and lucas has basketball and hellfire, and he doesn’t think nancy would ever want to be friends, so it’s. just him.

and then

and THEN

steve is walking through the upside down with eddie munson, and eddie references something he doesn’t get, and steve expresses his confusion and is prepared to be made fun of- but eddie just. tells him? explains it to him?

and it catches him off guard because no one has done that before, even as King Steve carol would roll her eyes and tommy would laugh whenever he asked them something. whenever he asked questions in class (which was rarely) the teachers told him he should’ve been paying attention but he was- he just didn’t get it

so steve tests it again later on and the same thing happens- even in front of the others, when steve asks a question eddie just tells him without poking fun and it’s… it’s really nice actually

once vecna is defeated and everyone survives (bc fuck you) steve continues to badger eddie with questions, looks to him whenever he doesn’t understand what’s going on and eddie will immediately explain it in a way he can understand

a while after they become good friends, steve just has to ask.

“does it get annoying?”

“…does what get annoying?”

“me asking you about stuff all the time”

but eddie just smiles at him, tells him how he actually loves that steve asks because it means he’s engaged and interested, when eddie is used to people getting bored of his rants/tirades

he tells steve that he loves explaining things to him, loves that he listens and pays attention and steve realizes oh, we’re kind of perfect for each other aren’t we?

he thinks he’s okay with that. especially if eddie keeps smiling at him and telling him about anything and everything he wants to

[sleepyeye17]

As was foretold, my Steddie balding fic! Inspired by my current hair loss. It’s like 2,000 words so I’m just putting an excerpt here. @bidisastersworld

Excerpt:

Robin looked horrified when Eddie knocked on the door, and he couldn’t blame her. He had one of his uncle’s trucker hats on backward, and pulled down low, making his ears stick out and his bangs get in his eyes. The hat had the words “60!? I demand a recount! ” written on it.

“Take me to Steve,” he said. Eddie had clearly been a last resort, because the whole gang was packed into the tiny apartment Steve and Robin shared. They all looked at him anxiously as he strode past.

“We’ve tried talking to him,” Dustin said. “He won’t say what’s wrong.”

“It’s okay. I know what’s wrong.”

He rapped on Steve’s door.

“Harrington, you alive?”

“Go away!” Steve’s voice was muffled, like he was speaking from under a pile of blankets. Eddie leaned his head on Steve’s door and took a deep breath.

“It’s happening to me too.”

There was a long pause. Then Steve said, faintly,

“Your hair?”

“Yeah.” Eddie knew that everyone was watching him, but he didn’t say anything. Hair loss was like his sexuality: sometimes he just didn’t want to spell it out, even when it was obvious.

He heard footsteps, and the door unbolted.

“Just you,” Steve said. "Nobody else."

Eddie slipped in, and shut and bolted the door behind him. He took one look at Steve and burst out laughing. Steve had wrapped his whole head in a two-foot tall towel turban.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, “I’m not— it’s not you, I— you just look like a really sad genie.”

Steve managed a small laugh at that, before sitting heavily on his messy bed.  Eddie sat beside him.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours," Eddie said.

Steve rolled his eyes at the line.

“You first.”

Eddie nodded and took a deep breath, then pulled off the hat, causing dark strands to come loose and float in the air. He bent forward so that Steve could see the balding spot on the top of his head.

“Did yours also start this morning?” Steve asked.

“No. I first noticed it on Monday, when I clogged my shower drain. I was hoping it would go away, but no such luck.”

“That’s why you’ve had it braided all week.” Steve reached out, almost subconsciously, to touch Eddie’s hair, then pulled back.

“It’s okay, you can touch it,” Eddie said. Steve barely had to brush his fingers across a curl for several hairs to fall to the floor.

“You thinking it’s the medication?”

“Yeah. The doctors did say that hair loss was one of the common side effects. I honestly might prefer the tremors or fainting.”

“At least it’s not diarrhea.”

Eddie laughed and tugged at the edge of Steve’s towel.

“Alright, your turn.”

Steve looked stricken.

“Come on, man,” Eddie whined, “Fair’s fair.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What, do you have 666 tattooed on your scalp? It can’t be that bad.”

Steve’s lips trembled.

“It’s so bad. I’ve never… it’s so bad.”

Eddie studied Steve. Beautiful Steve “the Hair” Harrington. He remembered Steve getting an answer wrong in math once, and the teacher joking that with hair like that, who needs brains? He remembered Steve laughing along like it wasn’t multiple levels of fucked up. It had become something of a mantra among the teachers. At the time, Eddie had just been jealous that Steve had at least one thing going for him.

“Stevie. You don’t think… You know that you’re always going to get any girl you want, right? You’re always going to be a fucking catch.”

Steve let out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes.  

“It’s stupid,” Steve said. “I don’t know why I even care. It’s just hair. I shouldn't be this upset.”

“Excuse me, Steve, you’re not the only one looking like Friar Tuck here. I am deeply fucked up right now, so don’t minimize this shit.”

Steve sniffed and smiled.

“Your hair is too long for Friar Tuck.”

“True. You’d make a better monk than me.”

“That’s a first.”

“It’s a low bar, I’d make a terrible monk.”

[steviewashere]

Deserving

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Unspecified Eating Disorder, Food Insecurity Tags: Post-Season 2, Pre-Season 3, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Different First Meeting AU, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Worried Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Self Esteem Issues, Insecure Steve Harrington, Lonely Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Strangers to Friends, Sharing Food, Food as a Metaphor For Love, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Has Rich Parents, He is Not Rich, Dialogue Heavy Originally, this was going to be 5+1 where Eddie shares his food five times and once where Steve shares his food, but I just couldn't finish the original plot.

🥪——————🥪 There’s a boy in Eddie’s lunch period that doesn’t have anything to eat. It’s weird because he knows who this kid is; Steve Harrington—cocky and rich and bitch with no bite—the kid who’s fallen from grace thanks to a few punches to the face. And the same kid who doesn’t really talk to anybody.

As it is, Steve is sitting by himself at one of the lunchroom tables. Arms crossed on the surface, head down on his forearms, hair limp at the crown of his head. Unusual and unseen. His shoulders are hitched, shaking like he’s crying unsubtly, yet quietly—unseen and unheard. It’s weird, he thinks, because Steve had just been looking out one of the windows, eyes a little hazy, glazed like he’d been gearing up to cry. Eddie had caught Steve pushing his hands into his hair, tugging like he was trying to rip it all out. But then he’d gone ahead and collapsed into this sad, huffing little heap onto the table.

Eddie maybe keeps his eye on Steve for too long, too often. To know the multitudes. The little fractures in his mask—spider webs, that’s what they were, spreading and sprawling. He supposed that, at some point, the web would be completed and be easy enough to knock down. Leaving in its wake a sad, mole-dotted, half-bruised, white-scarred face.

A face with a hungry maw, if the way Steve clutched his stomach said anything.

He makes a last minute decision today. Eddie curves his path away from the Hellfire Club’s table. Lunchbox dangling in his hand—a measly bologna and mustard sandwich, a baggie of salted pretzel sticks, and a Yoo-hoo he didn’t need to refrigerate all clinking against the metal interior. And then he plops himself down in front of Steve without a peep, just the hard clink of his wallet chain on the bench and his too big rings on the table.

All at once, slow, yet purposeful—Steve’s head springs up. He looks worse up close. Mottled purple. Swollen and shiny. There’s one of those terrible scars on the edge of his hairline, though this one’s different: pink, long, jagged, and fresh.

Steve squints at him. Covers the side of his face by the window, hand cupped around his one good eye, and swallows hard enough Eddie almost recoils. “Munson?” Steve croaks—literally, Eddie notes, like a strangled, old frog—“what’re you doing?”

“Mm, having lunch with my pal,” Eddie answers, prying open his lunchpail, food pulled out one thing at a time. He catches his thumbs in the Ziplock fasten, and from it produces that sad, drooping sandwich his uncle made last night. It’s a little soggy in his hands, too much mustard. And the bologna is sort of…lukewarm, but not inedible. Eddie digs around in one of his vest pockets, pulls out a small Swiss Army knife, and cuts the sandwich in half. Licks the blade, mustard just a little left of what’s meant to be tastefully sour. Then, he pushes a portion of the sandwich across the table to sit right in front of Steve. “Usually, I’d bring a lunch of your preference, but this is all I’ve got right now. So, hope you don’t mind some bologna.”

“I don’t wanna take your food away from you, man. I’ll be fine until I get home.”

Selfless is a trait he didn’t think Steve could really have. Well, from the assumed version he has in his head anyway. But it’s a trait he’s learning he probably won’t like. Not all the way, at least.

“Right,” Eddie murmurs, “and you clutching your stomach out of hunger seems like something to be fine about.” He picks up his half and takes a large bite, licks the bit of mustard from the corner of his mouth. With his mouth full, “It’s weird, y’know, I never see you in here with food. Not even lunch lady Donna’s mashed potatoes and gravy. If you wanna know my opinion, that’s one of the better lunches she makes, and it’s something anybody should try at least once.” He wrestles around in his lunchbox again, a glass bottle of Yoo-hoo now in his grip. The cap pops off satisfyingly and he takes a small swig, swallows the incredible glob in his mouth, and then offers the drink across the table. “Or, y’know, I thought maybe a rich kid would have their own lunch. With all of the good brand stuff. Like uh…Pringles? Yeah, Pringles and Coke? That seems like your game.”

Steve sniffs, looks down at his sandwich, and picks it up gingerly. He keeps staring at it, though. Not out of thought, like maybe he’s wondering if he should give it back. Something more…somber. “Correction,” he mutters, “I have rich parents. I’m just the kid they let live in their house.” Finally, he takes a bite with a gentle, low hum. As if it’s the greatest thing he’s ever put in his mouth. Which can’t possibly be true because, even though Eddie knows this meal is one of Wayne’s specialties, it’s honestly one of the shittier ones. If anything, this sandwich is just placeholder food—something that’ll get them by until Wayne gets paid next, if he gets paid on time.

Eddie hums, taking in the information. “They can’t even bother to send you on with at least a little something? Dude, tell me you at least get some breakfast. You’re breakin’ my heart over here.”

Again, Steve looks at his sandwich. Somber and small. He won’t look at Eddie, though. But Eddie can see him. His flushed cheeks—blotchy and tear track stained. Red rimmed eyes. Shaky fingers. He’s pale underneath the ruddiness. Lips chapped, eyes sunken, dark circles.

He looks like shit.

“Sometimes,” Steve murmurs, “I used to have a bagel in the morning, but my mom said the carbs were bad. I stopped buying them. So…I dunno. It’s not like she even”—He stops. Shakes his head. Takes another bite.

“She even…?”

Steve catches his eyes for all of a second. Places his sandwich on the baggie it came in. Wipes his cheeks, just barely missing some of the bruising. “She’s not even home most of the time anyway. It doesn’t really matter,” he states quiet and bitter. He clears his throat, the sound strained. Shrugs. Rests his face in one hand, looking out the window again. Face going pinched and pained. “You ever had a fend for yourself kind of day?”

“Eh…I’ve had fend for yourself nights. But that’s because my uncle works late, sometimes it’s just up to me to figure something out. Those are cereal nights, man.” He watches Steve again. At the way he doesn’t go back for the sandwich. Not even disgusted. Just…blank. “Was today one of those, Steve?” he asks quietly.

No verbal answer. Just one, small, shaky nod. Eddie won’t stand for that.

“What food do you like? Maybe I can help you come up with like a…a meal plan calendar or something. So that you know what you have at all times and you can, like, make sure you’re eating good.” Steve still doesn’t say anything. Lips rolled tight to his teeth. Eddie tries again, “Or at least just eating, Stevie. I know we don’t really know each other at all, but I see you in here everyday. No lunch. Not even one of those stupid boxes of raisins. You gotta eat, man. Or else, y’know, that shit catches up to you.”

Across from him, Steve sniffles again and wipes the back of his hand on his nose. “I don’t know what I like,” he says, “sandwiches are fine, I guess. It’s fine”—

“Good, great actually. Steve Harrington is getting a tour of the Munson sandwich recipes. Passed down from my uncle, the master of sandwich art. Y’like black forest ham? Maybe a bit of grilled chicken? Tomatoes?” Steve’s finally staring at him now. Wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Mouth dropped ajar with slight disbelief. “What?” Eddie says, “don’t look at me like that. We don’t have to be friends or anything, but you gotta eat. It’s equity, dude. I already got what I need in terms of food and eating, but you don’t. So, I getcha what you need. I help you out.”

Steve droops, breathes out a little sigh. Digs his thumbnail into the stale crust of the sandwich, picking at it, crumbling it onto the table. “You don’t have to do that, Eddie,” he speaks quietly, “I…uh…I don’t want to assume anything, but I don’t think it’s fair that somebody who makes less money than my whole family has to make up for my parents’ stupidity. It’s not your job to look out for somebody like me anyway, right? Just another screw up who can’t get his shit together, can’t even figure out how he’s going to pay for worthwhile groceries for the month.” He finally stops picking at the sandwich. Wipes his nose again. “Thanks for trying, though. I’m sorry that you have to care at all.”

Eddie eyes Steve for a silent beat. And then, with careful, languid movements, he lays his hand palm up on the table. Steve looks to it, but pretends to pay it no mind. Even if his face crumbles a bit more. “Steve,” Eddie speaks, keeping his voice measured and low, “I want to help. I—I know that my uncle and I don’t make a lot. And, sure, maybe figuring out a way to get you some good homecooked meals is a little out of my budget. But I don’t care. You deserve to eat, man. No matter how much money your parents make.

“If I can make your day a little easier—because, I gotta be honest, it seems like you’re just having…the toughest time a person can ever possibly have—then great. If it means me giving you a dollar for the school lunch or just coming here with an extra sandwich in my lunchbox, whatever.

“Nobody deserves to go without eating because their bullshit parents prioritize work and social lives over their own children—and no child deserves to believe they’re the problem. Let me help, okay? Even if we have to start out small, so be it.” Eddie takes a moment to pause, to breathe, to let the cafeteria background noise mingle around them. He crinkles the edge of the Ziplock baggie, pushes it further into Steve’s space, and does the same with the bag of pretzel sticks. “I want to take care of you. Even if we’re just strangers in the hallway, I want to make sure that you’re doing okay.”

He does his best to lean across the way, to block off the rest of the cafeteria from their table. As Steve lays his shaky hands flat on the surface and his face turns bright red, tears steadily streaming down his face. Eddie digs the bandana out of his back pocket and slides it across the table, too, offering it up in silence.

Steve takes it with a shaky hand and pats the tired fabric on his tacky skin. He blows a sharp, wheezing, snotty breath from his nose. “If you’re sure, then I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a lot. But I…I wanna make sure I can pay you back, okay? Don’t wanna—I don’t wanna like abuse your generosity or something.”

“You wouldn’t be,” he quickly amends. “I’m offering, man, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but I…I don’t think you understand,” Steve adamantly presses, “I know it’s gonna make me sound all whiny and like uptight or whatever, but I don’t earn an allowance from my parents anymore. Not since…well, I’m sure you know how stupid I am.”

“Hey,” Eddie gently scolds. “You’re not stupid, Steve. You know what you’re talking about, I’ve heard you.”

Steve snorts like Eddie said something funny. “Try telling that to all my college rejection letters and my dad’s crumbling expectations of his only son. I’m sure they could find a million ways to explain just how…how worthless I am. That I’m a burden or…or a stain.”—those last sentences sound like echoes, if Eddie cares to explore it enough. Like they come from a different, more expectant mouth. Steve continues, “How am I even supposed to get a mediocre job? Just feels like I’m too nothing for anything out there. I don’t even know how I’m gonna pay you back, Eddie. Shit, I just shouldn’t accept. I have no idea how I’m supposed to get back up from all this garbage—I—I’m such a fucking loser now. I don’t even have anything going on anymore.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, not sure which part of any of that to unpack. Instead, he goes with, “You’ve got sports, Stevie. Surely you can figure something out with that. I’ve seen you perform, man, you’re fucking phenomenal.”

“My brain’s too fucked up now to play,” Steve quietly admits, “too many concussions. Coaches say I’m too befuddled to make heads or tails of where my targets are. Sports are over for me. I literally have nothing.” He blows out another wet, shaky breath. “So, I’m just saying, I’m sorry if I can’t make this up to you.”

“Steve,” Eddie says firmly, “look at me.”

At the demand, he’s met with Steve’s sad, hazel eyes. Clogged with discontent and miserableness he never thought he’d see out of a guy like Steve. Every part of him wants to reach out, cradle Steve’s face in his hands, wipe away his tears, caress his injuries with a tenderness he’s sure Steve has long forgotten. A part of him wants to hold Steve forever, no sign of letting go. 

Heart in his stomach, shattered yet beating, he speaks as softly as he possibly can manage. “You owe me nothing, Steve. You don’t owe me your best. You don’t owe me your money. You don’t owe me payback or…or a job on your back. There’s nothing that I want from you, I promise. But if you want to give me something…how about just being my friend, huh? Just sit down with me at lunch, share the food I brought, give me as much of a conversation as you want, and just…just let yourself be cared about.

“That’s what I’ll ask of you. If you feel the need to give me something, give me friendship. That’s it. Nothing more than that. Anything else that arises in the future, we worry about then. Bridges waiting to be crossed later, y’know? That’s doable, right? Just being a friend.”

Steve nods in slow understanding. “You wanna be friends with me?” He asks in a whisper. “You know that I’m not the best company, right? I’m…I’m stubborn and I’m bitchy and I—I know sometimes that I don’t use my brain half the time and I just say shit before I really think about it. And I…I’ve been a jerk and I’m—I’m sort of bullshit, Eddie. Is that really something you want in your life?”

Eddie merely shrugs. “You think I don’t have my own flaws? Everybody’s got shit. All of us have baggage. You’re just a teenager, as am I, and we’re still figuring shit out. At least you’re aware, right? Means you can try and…and be more thoughtful about what you do, how you act. And, besides, stop giving me reasons to leave you alone. I want to be your friend. I’ll say it from here to fucking Mars, man.” He raps his fingers against the table, darts his eyes to that sandwich. There’s not really a good way to keep drilling the want of it all into Steve’s head. So, finally, he relents. Gives Steve the step away that he wants. “Go ahead and eat, Steve. I’ll bring you a PB&J tomorrow, yeah? You like grape or strawberry jelly?”

A lapse of silence. Wherein they stare at each other. Two things work their way onto Steve’s face. Adamant protests that, in turn, are squashed and cornered into becoming stubborn acceptance. Jeez, Eddie can’t help but think, what’s it gonna take to get this guy to realize that people can care about him?

“Mm…strawberry, please,” Steve finally decides.

He simply nods. Looks out the window to the courtyard. Cafeteria white noise and Steve’s soft chewing surrounding him. The light hits him just as a cloud begins to move, yellow sunlight, warm and new. It marks the beginning of something unexpected, good, Eddie believes. “I think you’re a good guy, by the way,” he murmurs, “you probably don’t believe me now, but you will one day. Swear on it.”

🥪——————🥪

[mrsjellymunson]

The Essence of You

Pairing: Steddie; Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Written for the @steddiesmuttyseptember week 2 prompt ‘soft and slow’ | WC: ~7.3k | Rating/CW: E 🔞 SMUT, MDNI! Angst/conflict, big emotions, insecurities, mentions of difficult childhood experiences, hurt/comfort, oral (m rec), fingering (m rec), ball worship, scent kink/olfactophilia, cumming untouched, cum eating, aftercare | A/N: This is the longest thing I’ve written this fast - thank you for the challenge! I’d usually spend ages faffing and obsessing editing and proofing, so if you see any mistakes or missed warnings/tags LMK ❤️

My masterlist

Eddie isn’t having the best of weeks. It’s midsummer, and he’s been working hard in the shop with the only ventilation being the open front shutters and no breeze. His boss has been on his ass, and he’s been saddled with working on a particularly uncooperative Chevy for the past three days. 

It’s getting him down mentally as well as physically, but he doesn’t like to bother Steve with stuff like this. Their relationship still feels fairly new, especially for Eddie, who’s never had anyone stick around for as long as Steve has. He’s constantly anxious that Steve will eventually figure out that he’s a total nerdy, needy loser, so he keeps his feelings close to his chest. 

They’ve only been living together for about three months, and Eddie’s still adjusting to having someone other than Wayne around all the time. Particularly someone like Steve, who seems to care so much. He’s always getting close to Eddie, touching him, cuddling him. At first Eddie thought it was purely sexual. After all, that’s what most people wanted who’ve gone anywhere near him. But he also seems to want to do it for his own comfort, and Eddie’s. He touches him to say hello, good morning, good night, let’s cook, thank you, can I have one of your fries… Sometimes it’s just letting him know he’s there, or just for touching him’s sake.

And Eddie loves it, he really does. He hasn’t had that level of affection in his life since he lost his mom, and if he’s honest, he craves it.

But Steve often insists on doing it at the most inconvenient moments. Like when Eddie gets home from work. As soon as he’s through the door of their apartment Steve’s on him, nuzzling at him and demanding cuddles, when all Eddie wants to do is get in the shower and wash off the stink of the day. It’s got to the point where Eddie deliberately tries to avoid Steve when he arrives home, quickly breezing past whatever room he’s in and heading straight for the bathroom, locking the door before Steve can catch up, and instead enjoying the fresh cuddles he can indulge in once he’s got cleaned up and changed.

But today is different. It’s been especially hot, the Chevy has been an exquisite asshole, and he hasn’t eaten or drunk nearly enough. He’s grumpy, parched and irritable, and for some reason he’s decided that today’s the day he’s going to bring his dirty work hoodie home to wash it, the fabric slung over his shoulder not doing anything to cool either himself or his mood.

Instead of checking where Steve is like usual, he decides getting a drink is more important, and strides into the kitchen to grab something cold before heading out to wash up.

It doesn’t work out that way though, as Steve’s already fixing dinner, his shift at Family Video ending pleasantly early now that he’s in charge of the schedules. He’s in a sinfully tight pair of shorts and a tight shirt, and has a cute apron tied around his waist. On autopilot, Eddie’s insecurities barely register when he internally questions what the hell he could’ve done to deserve this Adonis of a man. He tries to be as quick as he can, but it’s no use, Steve’s on him before he’s even managed to close the fridge.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?”

Steve’s strong arms circle around Eddie’s waist and pull him in, and he pushes his face into his damp, disheveled curls at his neck and breathes in.

Steve’s voice turns gruff and he closes his eyes as he mumbles,

“Ohh, baby, you really need a shower…”

In his already-fragile state Eddie doesn’t take it well. Pushing his forearms against Steve’s shoulders, he tries to pull away, stuttering,

“Whaddayou mean? D’you think…?”

“What is it, baby? I’m just tellin’ you how you sm-”

Eddie’s protestations become more frantic, and he bodily shoves Steve away, his voice high-pitched and tremulous as he retreats, shouting,

“I’m not- I don’t- Get off of me.”

Suddenly on the defensive, he blurts,

“Y’know what Steve, fuck you!”

He storms out of the kitchen, flinging his hoodie violently into the laundry room on his way to their shared bedroom, the zipper making a harsh clanging noise against the metal and creating the perfect soundtrack to Eddie’s spiky mood. 

He kicks the bedroom door shut aggressively behind him, dropping to the mattress with his head in his hands, desperately trying to muffle the sound of his sobbing.  

Steve stands in the kitchen, stunned. He has no idea what he did to upset Eddie so much, but he’s concerned it might be because he brought up how he smells.

He tries to give Eddie some space, busying himself with small tasks in the kitchen, but he’s distracted and keeps dropping slices of carrot onto the floor, so eventually admits defeat and removes his apron.

He pads slowly towards their bedroom door, still uncertain of what he’s done and, especially, fearful of making things worse. But he’s unable to leave his boyfriend alone in such a state, especially one that he’s inadvertently created. 

He knocks quietly, murmuring softly,

“Eddie? Are you okay? Can I come in?”

There’s a few beats of silence. Each second builds Steve’s anxiety to the point he can barely stand it. He’s milliseconds from opening the door, but then he hears a loud sniff, followed by a large exhale, and then Eddie’s voice, trembling a little as he mumbles,

“Y-yeah. I guess...”

Steve pushes the door, slowly, still nervous of startling Eddie, and sees him sitting on the edge of their bed. He’s still in his work clothes. His overalls are pushed down and tied at his hips, his tank top, spotted with grease and sweat, hugs his torso and his slim waist, and his hair, tied up in a messy bun on top of his head, is loose and barely containing his curls. He sits with his elbows on his knees and his palms over his eyes. Steve thinks he’s an absolute vision, but decides to keep that to himself for the time being. 

He moves slowly towards him, still keeping his distance, though one hand comes up almost unconsciously, desperately wanting to touch Eddie, comfort him.

He stops himself, and instead, kneels on the rug in front of him. Gently, like he’s approaching a frightened child, he takes hold of Eddie’s wrists and encourages him to move his hands so that Steve can see his face. 

His attempt at a calm demeanour falters as he sees Eddie’s wet and red-rimmed eyes. He hates it - someone as beautiful as Eddie should never be made to feel like this, especially not by someone who loves him. 

“Eddie, what’s going on? Can you talk to me, please?”

Eddie tries to squirm out of Steve’s gentle grip, looking away from him and trying unsuccessfully to hide his face behind a few strands of loose hair.

“It- it’s nothing, shit. Just- leave me alone, let me get cleaned up, okay?”

He tries to rise, but Steve’s not having any of it. He leans forward, stopping Eddie from standing. He needs to know what this is about. 

“No, it’s not okay. Tell me what I did. Did I offend you? Talking about how you smell? It’s just that-”

Eddie cuts him off with a huff.

“It’s something from my childhood, okay? A- a bad memory. More than one memory, actually.”

He chuckles humourlessly. 

Steve stays quiet, but raises his brows, encouraging him to continue. Eddie looks into those warm, golden, puppy dog eyes, and suddenly the words come.

“It’s- They- After my mom-”

He takes a deep breath. Steve knows how much Eddie misses her, but never pushes the subject, preferring to let Eddie to talk about her whenever he feels up to it.

“There was no one to take care of me, I guess. My dad, h- he, uh, he didn’t care. He never washed my clothes, or told me to bathe. He just let me run around in my own filth. And I didn’t know any better until months later, when the kids at school started making fun of me. They’d run around pinching their noses, making disgusting noises and- and saying I needed to take a bath. You know what they called me? Mouldy Munson. So I guess I’m a little… sensitive when people comment on how I smell.”

Eddie huffs again, and the tears start falling freely. He doesn't even try to hide it now.

Steve’s brows furrow in anger as he imagines a younger Eddie, bereft and alone, and lacking even basic life skills because no motherfucker thought he was worth the effort. But Steve knows different. He’s sure he can somehow help Eddie realise his own considerable worth, even if right now he has no clue exactly how he’s gonna go that.

He takes a chance and moves to sit next to Eddie on the bed, close to him, keeping one hand wrapped tightly in both of his.

“Will you tell me about it?”

Eddie frowns.

“You’d really wanna hear about my shitty childhood?”

“Of course. I wanna know everything there is to know about you, the good things and the bad. They all mix together to make you who you are.”

Eddie looks at Steve then. It takes a moment, but after searching Steve’s face for the slightest hint of condescension or dishonesty, and finding neither, he decides to do the bravest thing he thinks he’s ever done. He takes Steve up on his offer. Relaxing an almost imperceptible amount, though Steve notices, he continues,

“Okay, well… That first time, I defended myself. Came out swinging, managed to take a couple of those fuckers down before the lunch supervisor came out, and hauled me away to the principal’s office. He left everyone else in the yard and didn’t once ask for my side of the story. I guess that was the moment I realised that the only person I could rely on was myself. 

“It was only after that happened a few more times that a teacher took me to one side, sat me down, gave me a drink and a cookie, and then another, and another, because Asshole Al apparently didn’t think feeding me was all that important either, and then asked me what was going on at home. I tried to play it cool, brush her off, knowing my dad would tan my hide if I said anything bad about The Munsons. But she saw through me, of course she did. I was a scrawny kid in filthy jeans and she’d heard about what had happened with my mom.

“So, she cleaned me up, sorted me out. She’d make games out of getting me to brush my teeth and take a bath, and she taught me how to do my own laundry. She’d challenge me to shirt-folding races, or cereal-eating contests, and, what a surprise, I’d always win. She even took me to goodwill, and bought me clothes that actually fit with her own money.”

Eddie snuffles out a chuckle as he remembers,

“One time, she gave me five dollars. Five whole goddamn dollars! I thought I was the richest person in the world. She told me to get some fun things for myself. Like toys, n’ shit. I didn’t even know what I was looking for. I chose some cars, a dragon figurine, a stuffed Garfield that was missing an ear and was way past its best. I picked up some wildly inappropriate books and comics that were either far too young or far too old for me, and she helped me swap a few things out. But when she saw I’d got a tattered copy of The Hobbit, and told her how much I liked the drawings and the ‘code’ on the front, for some reason she didn’t make me put that one back…

“And that’s actually where I got my first ever band shirt. She found a KISS one in the adult section, and said she’d heard me singing old rock’n’roll songs to myself so I should have it, that I’d grow into it. I loved that shirt. I wore it round the trailer until it was the right size for me to go out in, and then I wore it some more. And then, when it got too tattered, I cut off the arms and the bottom, and wore it as a goddamn crop top. I might’ve even worn it for Corroded Coffin’s first gig.”

Eddie’s eyes light up at the fond memories, and Steve smiles with him. 

But he’s just a guy, and he can’t help the feeling in his pants that comes with imagining Eddie in a short shirt that exposes his underarms and happy trail. He wonders if he’d ever consider doing it again, even if it was just for Steve.

But then Eddie’s face falls again, as he recounts,

“‘Course, all of that was lost in the fire. I’ll never forget that teacher though. In a lot of ways she saved my life. So, I guess I’ve been paranoid ever since, about how I smell, I mean. Which is why my deodorant is always finished faster than yours, and even though you have the most elaborate haircare routine in the Western hemisphere, it’s me who’s always running out of shampoo…”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, hoping to reassure him, let him know he’s here for him, and silently thanking him for opening up and sharing all of this.

Eddie looks up and their eyes connect. Steve smiles softly at Eddie, and, after a brief pause, Eddie smiles softly back. Steve’s not running. And Eddie feels good, lighter. He thinks maybe this sharing shit thing might not be so bad after all…

It’s not all swans and roses though, as Eddie suddenly remembers his actions from earlier, feeling like he owes Steve an apology. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. For what I said. It just takes me back there, y’know? I kinda overreacted.”

Steve reassures him, taking his hand in both of his. 

“Oh no, baby, I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t know. You don’t talk much about your family, and…”

“It’s okay, Steve. It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve said something, not snapped at you like that.”

Lightening the mood, Steve responds,

“It’s okay. You know I like it sometimes when you’re a little mean…”

He dips his chin and looks up coyly through his lashes, and they both giggle again, remembering the other night when Eddie most certainly did put Steve in his place…

It’s Steve’s turn to look down now, as he decides, given that Eddie’s been so brave and confident, he’ll also reveal something he’s kept hidden.

“Look, the reason I was so scared that you were mad is because, well… I guess I need to make a confession of my own.”

Eddie’s intrigued, shifting on the bed to straighten up to Steve, his big brown eyes still rimmed with red, but flashing now, inquisitive and mischievous.

“Yeah, uh… I guess my childhood was… kinda the opposite? My parents were… fastidious. Everything needed to be perfect, to the point where my mom ended up practically sterilising the house on a daily basis. When I used to play outside, she’d make me strip off as soon as I came in, dump all my clothes in a boil wash and make me go straight to the bathroom and get in a hot bath. Sometimes she’d even hose me down in the yard before letting me inside. It got to the point where the fun of playing outside wasn’t worth the effort to get cleaned up afterwards, and I’d just not do much, staying indoors rather than going through all that, time after time. And when I got older, and especially after I met you…”

Steve smirks and his cheeks pinken,

“… I realised I actually quite liked the way other people smell. As in, their natural smell. And it made me feel bad, ashamed, like I was dirty, or perverted, or something. So, I never told you, because I thought you might, I dunno, say I had a weird kink or something. Which is stupid, because you’re so not like that.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to catch Steve’s gaze now, and he brings his other hand to cover Steve’s, squeezing it and smiling softly as if to say, no, I’m not.

“So… what I’m trying to say is… I actually really like it when you smell musky, and masculine, and, well, like you. And- and this is the weird part, especially when you’re all sweaty and dirty from a hard day's work.”

His brow furrows just a touch and his throat clicks as he swallows. It’s almost inaudible, but Eddie’s close enough to catch it. And the slight shift in Steve’s position as he moves his hips, trying to increase the friction provided by the folds in the denim at his crotch.

A smirk twitches at the side of Eddie’s mouth, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, but is liking it all the same.

“Wait, really? You’re serious? You actually… like… the way I smell?”

“Oh yeah, the sweatier the better. Goddamnit, you have no idea what you do to me…”

Steve loses his composure, dropping his forehead onto Eddie’s shoulder and releasing one hand from their shared grip to roughly palm at his crotch, exhaling loudly.

Eddie can hardly believe this. The very thing he’s been trying to hide all these years is something that Steve actually finds alluring. He can’t help the stirring in his own pants as he looks at the effect this is all having on Steve, especially what’s going on beneath his hand.

Steve looks up again, takes in Eddie’s visage. He wants Eddie to feel special, wanted, like the princess he deserves to be. Wants him to feel every moment, every movement. Feel all of Steve’s love that he wants to pour into him and over him, until it suffuses every molecule of his being and dislodges and replaces all of the fear, doubt and self-loathing that Eddie has left and leaves him a breathless, glowing, sated ball of self love. He wants Eddie to feel the way Steve feels about him. Has always felt about him, if he’s honest.

He stands from the bed and shifts until his thighs straddle Eddie’s, lowering himself onto his knees, and lifts a hand to touch the side of his face. Smiling at him, he decides to shower him with even more compliments, hoping to overload him so much that he can’t help but believe them. He runs his thumb across Eddie’s cheek and lets his fingers tickle the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck, then leans into his opposite ear and begins the assault.

“You’re so beautiful, so gorgeous. You’re hands down the hottest person I’ve ever met, and you make my knees so weak.”

He connects his lips with the side of Eddie’s neck, just below his ear, and feels him shudder at the touch.

“You look so good, you’re like a fucking god.”

He kisses him again, more pressure this time, but still soft, and he allows his tongue to peek out just a little to kitten lick Eddie’s skin. He gets his first taste of the salt and sweat that he craves, and moans against Eddie’s alabaster flesh when he gasps at the sensation.

“And you sound so good too. Oh hell, when you’re under me, or over me.”

Another kiss, sucking gently this time, and Eddie moans.

“And when you sing? Fuck, you don’t want to know how many times I’ve nearly cum in my pants watching you at The Hideout.”

He’s pretty sure Eddie almost convulses at this. He huffs a breathy chuckle into his ear, and pulls slowly back to admire his handiwork. Eddie’s flushed a pretty pink, his lips rolled inwards and his brow slightly pinched, as if he might be holding something in, possibly tears. Steve holds his gaze, going in for the kill. He runs a fingertip over the damp curls at Eddie’s temple and his voice drops as he admits,

“I wanted you for so long, and now I can hardly believe you’re mine. I want to make you feel so good, I wanna worship you, slowly, and let you know how beautiful you are.”

Eddie breathes heavily as Steve leans in again, his swollen lips almost brushing the tip of Eddie’s round and pretty nose.

“But please, please, more than anything else in the world, I want to show you just how much I love your smell. Will you let me do that?”

Eddie’s voice trembles a little as he agrees, with a mix of nervousness and excitement,

“Y-yeah, Steve. I’ll- I’ll let you do that…”

Steve’s grin is so bright it rivals the sun, and Eddie feels a rush of warmth more intense than anything he’s felt before. Eddie’s less restrained than Steve is, and his hands lift from the mattress to grab at Steve’s hips, yanking him forwards, up his lap. As Steve’s crotch connects with his, both of them semi-hard now, he huffs out a breathy,

“Christ!”

Steve lets out a delighted whimper, enjoying the sensation, but resisting the urge to grind himself onto Eddie’s bulge. There’s nothing he wants more right now than to flip him, strip him and destroy him, but he musters every ounce of self-control that he has left and restrains himself. He’s pretty sure that if asked, Eddie would disagree and demand that Steve take him, roughly, obliterate his negative thoughts with thrusts, smacks, physical sensations, maybe even a little pain. But that’s not what he wants for Eddie right now. So, fighting every cock-driven impulse, he moves.

Soft. 

And slow.

His lips part slightly as he cups Eddie’s cheeks in his palms and softly, slowly, connects their mouths. Whenever they kiss it’s always like velvet and rose petals, and it feels like coming home, but today it feels even more special. Steve hums softly, and Eddie whimpers quietly. Steve moves, pursing his lips and changing position, but not taking it any further just yet.

Soft… 

Slow…

He intersperses his kisses with more verbal encouragement.

“I want to smell all of you,” kiss, “I want to taste all of you,” kiss, “I want you to fill my senses until I don’t exist anymore,” kiss, “I want to show you how much I love every part of you,” kiss.

Steve’s tongue peeks out to collect a little of the tangy zest from Eddie’s upper lip. There’s a moment of total silence and stillness, then the floodgates open. They both drop their jaws, wide, and plunge their tongues into the other. They dance against each other, pushing, dragging, moaning as they explore every inch of each other’s mouths. It’s messy and feral and noisy and tips them towards combustion.

Steve’s suddenly not moving so slowly, breaking the kiss and encouraging Eddie to kick off his boots and socks and shuffling him to the centre of the bed, pulling off his overalls and boxers and discarding his own garments with similar fervour, their hard cocks springing free and bobbing in the heat of the room. Steve straddles Eddie’s naked thighs with his own toned, muscular ones, his quarry left in nothing but his stained and greasy singlet. 

But as soon as he’s got him where he wants him, Steve takes a deep, calming breath, and resumes his languid pace. He pauses for a few moments before toying with the hem of Eddie’s tank top, pulling it up at a speed that turns out to be deliciously agonising for both of them. 

He moves it up Eddie’s rib cage, little by little exposing more of his torso, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he takes in Eddie’s glorious form. 

He runs his thumbs up under the fabric and over Eddie’s nipples, perked despite the heat, pausing at the one that has the silver bar through it, flicking over it like it’s a switch that’ll turn Eddie on. It’s definitely working. He can see Eddie’s chest rising and falling faster and deeper with every stroke.

When the shirt bunches at Eddie’s throat, Steve encourages him to place his hands above his head, and, pulling the garment off, Steve is treated to the sight of Eddie’s underarms and triceps, one of his favourite sights in the world. Eddie moves to bring his arms down again, partly because he desperately wants to touch Steve, but also because he’s still not comfortable exposing these parts of himself while he’s still feeling so… unclean. But Steve stops him, playfully lilting,

“Nuh-uh. You leave those right there for me, you hear me?”

Eddie swallows and nods, acquiescing to whatever his Stevie wants right now. Steve bundles Eddie’s shirt and presses it to his face, inhaling deeply. Eddie’s eyes flash wide, his insecurities bubbling up, but Steve lets out a satisfied mmmm and throws the ball of soiled fabric towards his side of the bed, explaining, 

“I’m saving that for when you’re not here, and I get lonely.”

Steve runs his fingers across Eddie’s collarbones and down over the skin of his torso. He's tacky with grease, sweat and motor oil, and Steve savours the physical evidence of Eddie's toil. 

He runs his hands up his sides until his thumbs graze the hair under Eddie’s arms. Eddie squirms a little, uncomfortable. Steve presses harder, rubbing his thumbs in small circles under Eddie’s arms, massaging the skin and playing with the soft hair. Eddie’s looking anywhere but at Steve, his eyes flicking around the room and his breathing erratic, and Steve can feel the tension in his chest and legs. He bends forwards and kisses down the centre of Eddie’s chest, licking at the hair there and moaning as he gathers the salty sweetness he finds. 

“Just relax, baby. Remember, I like it, and I want to do this. Don’t think about it, just feel it. How does it feel?”

Eddie relaxes slightly, closes his eyes. Steve continues massaging, and to his delight, Eddie starts to hum. 

“Hmm, feels good. Feels really good.”

Steve’s tongue flicks over Eddie’s pierced nipple, garnering him another hum. He moves towards his armpit, keeping one eye on Eddie’s face to make sure he’s okay. His eyes are still closed and he seems to be enjoying this.

Steve closes his eyes and inhales deeply, filling his lungs with Eddie's aroma. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Sweet sweat, body odour, motor oil, and the merest hint of the spray deodorant he used this morning. He can’t help but groan as he finally gets to live out one of his deepest fantasies, his cock bearing this out and bouncing away from his abdomen.

He exhales with a sigh, and Eddie twitches beside him, his breath tickling as it gusts down his flank. Steve checks in, just in case.

“You still feeling good, baby?”

“Mhmm, really good, so good…”

Buoyed by Eddie’s reactions, Steve inhales again, and this time on his exhale, still massaging Eddie’s armpits, he licks a long stripe down Eddie’s arm along his triceps, finally getting to taste what he’s admired from afar for so long.

Eddie full-on moans beneath him, his hips bucking up and brushing their cocks together. It’s a delightful surprise to both of them that he’s enjoying this so much, despite his reservations.

Steve licks again, and places wet, sucking kisses to Eddie’s underarm. He’s never tried to leave a bruise here, and if he hadn’t already promised to be soft, he’d be trying to now. He can’t help but push his own hips down a little, increasing the friction between them. The sensation and the joint groans they let out are almost enough to make him lose his self-control, but he’s determined to make this last.

With one last inhale, smaller than the others, Steve pushes up and kneels between Eddie’s thighs, spreading them wider.

He appraises his boyfriend, who’s now looking at him with a fond, but slightly stunned expression. He strokes Eddie’s thighs softly with his palms, almost, but not quite, skimming them up to where Eddie needs them the most.

He bends forwards now, doubling over and resting his butt on his heels, settling his head between Eddie’s thighs, another of his most repressed and hidden fantasies staring him in the face.

He pushes forwards, just slightly, and the tip of his nose nudges Eddie’s sack. He feels him tense, just a little, before relaxing again. They’ve played like this before, but Steve realises just how much courage it’s taking Eddie to be with him like this, and makes a mental note to congratulate him for it, when the time is right.

Steve moves forward again, and gently nuzzles Eddie’s balls, exhaling his warm breath over Eddie’s velvety skin and pushing his nose gently against him. He breathes in again, not as hard as before, just allowing Eddie’s musk to seep into him slowly.

Moving to one side, he moves with more vigour into Eddie’s groin, pushing his whole face into the crease between Eddie’s hip and pelvis. He takes a long, hard inhale, suffusing himself with his love’s aroma.

Groaning in a way he’s never heard from himself before, he sounds practically drunk as he mumbles against Eddie’s skin,

“God, you smell so fucking good…”

Indulging himself even further, he flicks out his tongue, and kitten licks Eddie’s sack.

Above him, Eddie huffs and whimpers,

“Steve, no, I’m- Haaaaah!”

His protestations are cut off with a moan as Steve takes one of his balls into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and gently sucking. Eddie tastes musky, salty and, to Steve at least, utterly delicious. He feels Eddie’s thighs tremble against his shoulders, and decides to add a little extra for him, moaning around this most delicate of organs and sending tantalising vibrations through Eddie’s entire body. He glances up to see that Eddie’s moved his arms, and is now covering his eyes with his palms. Good, he thinks, the less visual stimulation he has the more attention he can give to what’s happening elsewhere…

Steve releases Eddie’s ball and moves up to lick a firm, wide stripe up the centre of his sack, his turgid shaft and all the way to his swollen head. He flicks the tip over the ridges at the heart-shaped place Eddie loves so much, and then swirls his tongue over and around the divinely smooth skin of his swollen and leaking glans.

He tenses and points to dip into Eddie’s slit and collect the precum that’s beading there, letting out a muffled, “Aah mah ghaa…”, as the taste hits his tongue. A different kind of salty, but still so delicious, and so very, very Eddie.

Steve congratulates himself, he’s done well, but he can’t hold off any longer, and he takes the top half of Eddie’s cock into his mouth, sucking and swirling softly. He manages to stop himself from taking any more, knowing he still wants to take his time. He does allow himself to move a little however, sucking, feeling, tasting, basking in the myriad sensations that are filling his senses.

Eddie disobeys his orders and brings one hand down to rest softly in Steve’s hair, just needing to touch him, thank him, anchor himself amongst the familiarity of Steve’s thick, glossy locks. Steve doesn’t seem to mind.

He pops off of Eddie’s cock, licking along the sides of it a few more times and enjoying how it makes Eddie’s abs twist and twitch. He gazes fondly down at the pliant figure beneath him, wondering how he ever got this gorgeous creature into his life, let alone his bed.

Unable to tear his gaze away, he fumbles blindly towards the bedside cabinet, pulling out their lube and opening the lid with a click. He makes a show of squeezing far too much onto his raised fingers, knowing how Eddie loves to get messy, and it garners him a cheeky grin from the man beneath him.

Steve leans forward, placing one hand near Eddie’s shoulder to balance over him. He wants to enjoy Eddie’s reactions close up. Eddie spreads his arms wide; it’s more comfortable than keeping them above his head, still demonstrates that level of trust Eddie has for Steve, and it affords Steve the opportunity to take a lungful of Eddie’s underarm musk as often as he wants. And oh, he wants.

Taking another inhale, Steve slides a lubed finger between Eddie’s legs and runs it over that soft spot behind his balls, circling gently. The dual sensations of Steve touching him there and revelling in his odour has Eddie arching off the bed, a long moan leaving him. He thinks, no, he knows, he’s never been treated with such reverence. They’ve never gone this slowly before either, and it’s all combining to rile him up in a way he’s never yet experienced.

Steve licks Eddie’s chest again, and nips at his unpierced nipple, making Eddie emit the cutest little yelp of pleasure, before smiling at him as he runs his lubed fingers over the crease of Eddie’s ass cheeks, delighting in the soft flesh and peachy fuzz. He wants to kiss those perfect globes, suck them, slap them, mark them as his, but he knows he can do that another time.

So, slowly, he slides his fingers between Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie’s practically stopped breathing, his lungs are full and his breaths are so short and shallow they’re barely breaths at all.

Then, at last, Steve connects with his hole. Eddie gasps as the tip of one finger runs around it. Steve revels as Eddie twitches at his touch, before slowly breaching his most intimate area.  

Steve’s moves are shallow for a while, moving just one or two knuckles deep, until he can tell neither of them can take any more waiting, and he slowly plunges as far into Eddie as he can get. 

Eddie groans, his face contorting into ecstasy, eyes closing and his mouth relaxing into a soft O. Steve sighs at the sight, another one of his favourites. He curls his finger and finds Eddie's special spot with practiced ease, and Eddie groans again.

By this point he’d usually have at least two fingers inside Eddie, maybe even his cock, pumping in and out of him, not necessarily roughly, but certainly with more vigour than he’s currently doing. But instead he’s retaining his languid pace, dragging slowly in and out, gently gliding against that special spot, more than enough to excite him, but not quite enough to send him over the edge. They know each other's bodies so well by now that it’s almost impossible for Steve not to almost immediately give Eddie the most intense pleasure.

But he continues, 

Soft… 

Slow…

Watching his face intently, Steve asks,

“You doing okay, baby?”

Eddie’s eyes snap open, and he gazes into Steve’s glorious hazel orbs as he replies, earnestly,

“Oh fuck, Steve. I- I’m doing gr- great.”

Steve smiles again, adoringly salacious, and moves, folding himself so he’s kneeling between Eddie’s legs again. He licks messily over Eddie’s balls, his shaft, the creases of his hips, and Eddie shudders again, his cock twitching at being devoured so completely. Steve breathes in more of Eddie’s scent, almost hyperventilating, and Eddie revels in the feeling of Steve’s exhaled breaths as they flow over his cock, his abdomen, his thighs.

Eventually Steve reaches the top of Eddie’s cock again, and this time takes him fully into his mouth, sinking as far down as he can.

As he opens his throat and his nose hits Eddie’s pubes, Steve is in heaven, the combination of scents and sensations driving him divinely insane, his throat spasming around Eddie’s tip as he groans above him.

His own cock’s angry and red, and leaking an obscene amount of precum that dribbles down his shaft where it’s trapped between his belly and thighs. It’s begging to be touched, rubbed against something, pushed somewhere warm and inviting. But he does his best to ignore it, feeling it twitch every time Eddie gifts him the softest little moans and the loudest groans, knowing that tonight is all about Eddie, Eddie, Eddie… He’s filled, suffused, drunk on the feeling of Eddie’s cock, his heat, his scent, letting everything Eddie envelop his entire being. He indulges in the euphoria of being used by him, and making Eddie feel so, so good.

Eddie resists for as long as he can manage, but eventually he can’t help but move his hips up into Steve, fucking his face with reverent care. He knows that Steve loves it when he’s rough, but he’s trying desperately to take his lead and stay soft, slow, gentle.

It’s not long before Eddie’s whines become shriller and more frequent. He can feel those familiar sensations in his abdomen that tell him he’s gonna lose it, and soon. He moves one hand down to Steve’s chin, trying to warn him.

“St- Stevie, I’m so cl- Where d’you…?”

In response, Steve grasps Eddie’s hand and places it over his head, his hand over Eddie’s, their agreed indication that he wants Eddie to finish in his mouth. Just the thought of combining the musk of his sweat with the tang of Eddie’s cum is almost enough to send Steve over the edge himself. He redoubles his efforts and speeds up the movements of his fingers, still soft, still slow (well, slow-ish) and pushes himself as far down Eddie’s shaft as he can. He’s temporarily blocking his own breathing, but knows the payoff is going to be so, so sweet.

Eddie’s abs tighten, his back curves and his shoulders lift off the bed. He can’t hold off any longer, and with one, two, three more thrusts his balls tighten and his cock spasms. With a long groan he releases himself into Steve’s mouth, rope after rope of hot cum spilling into the love of his life. Steve splutters and swallows what he can, but there’s so much of it this time that some inevitably dribbles out the sides of his mouth, spilling down over Eddie’s balls. 

After a few moments of breathless euphoria, Steve pulls gently off and out of Eddie, placing his palms either side of Eddie’s hips and propping himself up on his arms to take a few deep breaths. Eddie slumps back against their pillows, grinning wildly and a high, lilting chuckle leaving his chest. He lifts his head back up to look down himself at Steve, and marvels at the sight. He’s cock-drunk and fucked out, hair a mess. His eyes are wide and watering, and his jaw is slack and drooling a mix of their combined fluids. Eddie decides it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Steve’s smiling back at him, and as he licks lasciviously around his lips to gather whatever he can he looks like the cat that got the cream. Eddie supposes that, in a lot of ways, he is.

After a few more breaths Steve starts to shift lower down the bed, his usual routine for when he’s going to get cleaned up. But Eddie stops him. His face falls, and he frowns at Steve.

“Wait, isn’t it your turn? You didn’t…”

Steve snorts, his bronze cheeks turning pink.

“Oh, uhh… Actually I did. Turns out your smell turns me on even more than I realised, cuz I kinda…”

He kneels up, spreading his hands wide and looking down at his crotch. Eddie follows his gaze, and is greeted by yet another divine sight. His naked boyfriend with his belly and thighs covered in smeared streaks of his own cum, his softening cock slowly drooping down onto the crease of his thigh, and wet, sticky patches adorning their comforter. Steve continues,

“I, uh… I guess we’re gonna have to do some laundry later.”

They both giggle.

“Yeah, worth it though. Fuck. You really like my, uh, scent that much, huh?”

Steve drags sweaty fingers through his own mess, and brings it up to show Eddie.

“See for yourself, big boy.”

Eddie quickly props himself up on his elbows, and looks intently at Steve, dimples popping in his cheeks as he smiles and drops his mouth open in an inviting gesture. Steve obliges, and pushes forwards, slowly running his fingers over his boyfriend’s tongue. Eddie sucks softly, closing his eyes and humming, revelling in Steve’s taste and barely believing that he’s had this effect on the man he loves, and the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen. He licks between his fingers for a few moments, before releasing him with a pop and a roll of his eyes, commenting cheekily,

“Go on then. I guess I can let you go get a towel.”

Steve does so, cleaning up quickly in the bathroom before getting them both a much-needed cold drink, which they both consume with satisfied sighs.

Eddie shifts over on the bed so that Steve can cuddle into his side, knowing it’s his favourite position. Steve angles his head to look up at Eddie.

“You feeling better now?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea…”

Eddie stretches out the last two words, emphasising his point and making Steve giggle a little.

Steve runs his fingertip up and down Eddie’s naked chest, focussing on his abs, skimming into his navel and tickling the top of his happy trail. Thinking about what Eddie told him earlier, he ventures,

“So, are you gonna tell me more about this crop top phase of yours…?”

Eddie’s voice becomes sweet and high, and playfully condescending, as he lilts,

“Oh, baby. You want me to wear one for you? I can do that.”

Steve’s cheeks flush pink again, visibly excited at the prospect of seeing Eddie dressed that way. Eddie’s voice drops husky and low as he continues,

“And you know what else? I’m gonna look forward to working on that damn Chevy tomorrow. Let it try me, make me fuckin’ sweat. For you, baby, all for you.”

Steve hums appreciatively into Eddie’s hair, pressing his hips just a little harder into Eddie’s thigh, his cock already filling out a little at the thought. 

Eddie drops a sweet peck to the tip of his nose.

“And if you happen to be in the kitchen when I get home, wearing that damn apron, and only that apron…? Well, let’s see where the evening takes us, shall we?”

Steve hums again, snuggling in closer to Eddie, and he soon drops into a light doze. 

Something has shifted this evening, and they both feel it. They’re no longer keeping aspects of themselves hidden, in well-meaning but misguided attempts to protect the other. What began as something accidentally painful has led to more openness, honesty, and a deeper understanding of each other, and a level of connection that has surprised both of them.

Eddie certainly has a newfound appreciation for the benefits of opening up, and sharing. And, he’s surprised to realise, a brand new perspective on his own natural musk. He thinks over everything Steve said. All the compliments, the words of adoration, and, yes, how he reacted to Eddie’s smell. His spent cock stirs at the thought.

They’re both still sweaty, sticky messes, and some degree of clean-up is definitely necessary. But for Eddie, this time it’s more about making them both more comfortable, rather than eliminating the discomfiting paranoia he used to hold.

A little while later he brandishes a delighted little smirk as he gently rouses Steve from his light slumber and proffers,

“Hey, baby. I think we both need to clean up a little. How about I show you how much I love you all over again, soft and slow… But this time, in the shower…?”

Thanks so much for reading!

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A/N 2: I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the idea of Eddie being helped by a teacher somewhere else, either in a fanfic or maybe even Flight Of Icarus (IDK, it’s been a while). I’d love to give credit/attribution for the inspiration so if you’ve seen it before or it was in your fic, please let me know! Also, the ‘Eddie pulls Steve up his lap’ moment was inspired by this art by @dreaminginpencil ❤️

A/N 3: Fun fact - this started out as my contribution for this month’s @steddiemicrofic prompt, ‘shower’. Make it 399 words? Yeah, right 😏😂 Copious thanks to @the-unforgivenn and @airen256 who helped me thrash it about and confirm it definitely needed it’s own story, ILY 💗

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[morganbritton132]

Steve, randomly when Eddie’s live one day: Would you notice if I went missing?

Eddie, stopping everything: Steve, you have went missing. I had to file a police report. Of course I would notice.

Eddie: I worry when you leave the room. When I can’t see you, I assume you are missing.

Eddie: Would I notice if you were missing?! What kind of question is that?

Eddie, affectionate: Bring your insecure ass over here. I’m going to kiss you.

[inthewychelm]

ive been thinking about hard of hearing steve, who started losing his hearing after starcourt, the scoops troops are the first to find out because of how attached they are, robin erica and dustin all insist on steve learning to sign but he's insecure about learning a new language so they slowly learn and start teaching him

after vecna, eddie gets adopted to their little group and starts picking up on the signs and learning on his own, still struggles to hold a conversation, esp with the likes of robin or dustin, but he atleast knows simple words and phrases enough to communicate, eddie also gets into the habit of signing ILY to steve before he leaves, except steve rarely studies asl on his own most of what he remembers is from robin/erica/dustin, who never thought to teach him that specific sign, so steve just thinks eddie is just being a metalhead throwing up a 'rock on' gesture, hes still absolutely endeared by eddie doing this but he doesn't realize that eddie saying he loves him everyday, what follows is a ridiculous amount of pining where only steve doesn't know because everyone else know what that sign means, he only finds out because after gossiping with robin(who has tried to tell steve that its reciprocated) about eddie, erica interupts their convo by telling steve that eddie tells him he loves steve everyday (that clown is so obviously in love with you, how are you still pining? you're supposed to be a expert, steve?)

(edit 07/23: this fic is now on ao3)

[suitelif3]

steddie idea I would totally write if I could:

imagine Eddie being insecure about being poor bc Steve has always had nice things so Eddie gets insecure that he won’t be able to provide/gift Steve things to that level.

so he gets insecure about it, and then Steve doesn’t want to come out to the party yet (bc he’s not ready yet, and that’s okay!) but Eddie gets in his head about it, and thinks it’s bc he’s “trailer trash” and can’t afford nice things/dates.

Eddie starts to pull away bc what is Steve doing with him, Steve starts panicking a little bit but acts normal around Eddie, who then realizes he wants to fight for Steve, and starts working long hours to save up for something Steve has been wanting for a while.

Steve thinks Eddie is preparing to break up with him so he tries to talk to Eddie, Eddie gives Steve the gift, and Steve is like I didn’t need this, I just needed you or something cheesy since they spent so much apart bc of Eddie working nonstop.

then they kiss and makeup and it’s all resolved and super fluffy with them working it out and Eddie realizing he’s allowed to want nice things and Steve is a nice thing.