#or is Steddie that slow

[steviesbicrisis]

Greatest Wingman In History Steve writing this in Robin’s place and making her deliver it to her coffee shop crush, Chrissy.

Biggest Pessimist in History Eddie reading the note with Chrissy and thinking he has no chance with his own crush cause not only he’s straight but he’s interested in his bff

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[theopteryx]

nyahh

[yudol-skorbi]

i was listening to Metal Guru by T Rex and its kinda happened

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

i am a firm believer in the fact that steve 'making out with your friends is a fun bonding activity' harrington doesn't realise he's bi until he's actually got his hand on a dick. like i just read a fic where he went to a gay bar with robin and she found him making out with a dude and was like ???? and this makes perfect sense to me like that's just how he says hello

[caxde]

lovingsomeone | steddie x reader

summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)

warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.

a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!

“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you. 

“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back. 

Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on. 

She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile. 

It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working. 

She still was unsure about you. 

She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck. 

But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off. 

Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you. 

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them. 

“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did. 

Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you. 

“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands. 

“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face. 

“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it. 

Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.

“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed. 

“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up. 

“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you. 

“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question. 

“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it. 

“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van. 

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind. 

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant. 

“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said. 

“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…” 

“Hot?” 

“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.” 

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris. 

It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you. 

Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous. 

“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours. 

“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain. 

“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity. 

“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left. 

“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 

Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home. 

Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car. 

-

You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up. 

It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up. 

No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right. 

Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was. 

As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after. 

You were truly breathtaking. 

Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind. 

It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them. 

Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now. 

Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you. 

Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air. 

He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence. 

He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds. 

He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while. 

For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt. 

“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers. 

He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been. 

“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back. 

“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose. 

“You’re drunk?” 

“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party. 

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face. 

“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been. 

“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies. 

Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did. 

Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you. 

“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry. 

“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?” 

Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in. 

You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. 

You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down. 

You were crying now. 

“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?” 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body. 

“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them. 

“Are you sure?” 

“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head. 

“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper. 

“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did. 

The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. 

“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now. 

“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious. 

“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit. 

Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now. 

“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh. 

“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet. 

“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine. 

“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.” 

“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance. 

As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear. 

As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident. 

“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them. 

“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner. 

He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car. 

Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.” 

She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while. 

2.9

-

-

“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful. 

“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come. 

The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house. 

Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate. 

Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear. 

“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked. 

“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him. 

“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now. 

He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses. 

The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it. 

Steve's words didn’t help. 

In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first. 

“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle. 

Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second. 

Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired. 

Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck. 

- 

The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool. 

You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met. 

Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did. 

“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her. 

“Sure.” She added before following her into the house. 

Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come. 

Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen. 

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk. 

“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.” 

“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?” 

Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend. 

“He’s okay sharing as in…” 

“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself. 

“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter. 

“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine. 

“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely. 

At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish. 

“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off. 

He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back. 

“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve. 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder. 

“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face. 

Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face. 

You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes. 

“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you. 

“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.”  You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you. 

“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you. 

Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind. 

Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused. 

“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips. 

“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you. 

Maybe you were. 

It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not. 

You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment. 

The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully. 

The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face. 

“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door. 

“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged. 

“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion. 

You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate. 

You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips. 

“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could. 

“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him. 

“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming. 

Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss. 

Just one kiss, he told himself. 

His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper. 

It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play. 

Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back. 

That was more than one kiss. 

“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where. 

“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully. 

“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.” 

-

The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw. 

It wasn’t difficult. 

When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded. 

Now you were sitting between them both. 

Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief. 

“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair. 

“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave. 

Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm. 

“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle. 

“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too. 

“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face. 

It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it. 

The type of look that drove you insane. 

Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought. 

“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well. 

Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time. 

You hadn’t seen him shirtless. 

It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone. 

Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening. 

His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner. 

He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand. 

“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off. 

Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug. 

“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you. 

“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth. 

As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly. 

Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him. 

Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought. 

Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened. 

“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now. 

He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his. 

Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around. 

Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth. 

Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last. 

“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool. 

Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane. 

Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance. 

Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going. 

The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back. 

“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that. 

“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. 

He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.

Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight. 

“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else. 

“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?” 

He nodded. 

Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch. 

“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie. 

Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it. 

You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself. 

Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him. 

You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve. 

He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock. 

You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him. 

“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth. 

“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach. 

Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name. 

“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe. 

“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him. 

You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.

“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck. 

“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air. 

You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over. 

Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud. 

The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body. 

“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined. 

Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had. 

“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.” 

You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you. 

As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead. 

“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.

“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them. 

They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to. 

It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist. 

“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer. 

“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more. 

You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand. 

“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax. 

“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch. 

You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair. 

“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it. 

“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one. 

“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know. 

“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.

“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know. 

“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours. 

“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone. 

“If you let me.” 

“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.

[loveinhawkins]

While he’s still not recovered enough to play the guitar, Eddie takes up writing again. He uses a scrappy notebook, nothing special: to start with, it’s more a record of his handwriting slowly becoming clearer; gripping the pen, moving it across the page, no longer seems such a daunting task.

And look, it’s not like he’s Shakespeare here, somehow churning out masterpieces from a hospital bed. Sometimes he’s just doodling, flooding the margins with black ink until it bleeds through to the other side, looping spirals over and over for no reason—or maybe just to prove that he can.

He always keeps the notebook close by: folded over, the spine broken so it can rest propped up on the bedside cabinet. Sometimes he forgets, has to quickly put it under the sheets if he’s still writing whenever a nurse comes in.

He doesn’t know what he’s afraid of them seeing, exactly. Just remembers the fear of middle school—a boy ripping his notebook out of his hands and just laughing at Eddie’s desperate attempts to get it back.

It had been a lesson—to not be careless. To not leave pieces of himself lying around for others to handle.

Gradually, he fills more and more pages. Diary entries emerge in between mindless scribbles, and they help even if he’s not ready for talking about March yet, not even to himself.

He painstakingly logs conversations had during visiting hours; just focusing on one word leading into the next is calming, helps bring him out of his head. He’s got whole pages devoted to Wayne’s birdwatching, and actual full-blown diagrams thanks to Robin Buckley filling him in on obscure band kid drama.

On nights when his heart races for no apparent reason, he stays up writing—usually drifts off to sleep by the afternoon, notebook slipping through his ink-stained fingers.

He stirs awake on one such day, and he doesn’t know why until he hears the rustle of pages, the gentle thunk of something being set down.

His notebook.

“Did you look?” he murmurs, more asleep than awake. Maybe that’s why he asks: time is strange in dreams, long buried fears drifting up to the surface.

“No.”

And Eddie manages to open his eyes just enough to see Steve standing by his bed. He’s neatly set the notebook in its usual place on the cabinet, except he’s shut it so the edges don’t curl up all that much.

“No, I didn’t look. Eddie, that’s yours, okay?” Steve says softly, but no less serious for it.

And Eddie wonders if there’s more to the pages he’s filled, even the scribbles—if he’s revealed more of himself than he thought.

“You can if you want,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t mind if it’s you,” Eddie says. He reaches for words, clumsy with drowsiness, and he surprises himself with what he says, but he finds that he means it. Feels it, so certainly. “Want… want you to see.”

The thought would’ve been terrifying years ago.

But this isn’t middle school, and he trusts Steve Harrington with his heart.

[i-watch-the-beees]

happy early valentine’s day!!! here is a drawing i did for the vday exchange for @tinkerbclla inspired by their fic “roommate wanted.” this fic made me literally yell at my phone i love it so much

[hairmetal666]

It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.

On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.

They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.

The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.

They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.

"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.

He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.

Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.

The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.

"Can we talk?"

Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."

Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."

"Enlighten me, Harrington."

"C'mon, man, the notes!"

"What about them?

"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"

Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."

He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.

"I've always known it was you," he says.

"You don't--wait what?"

I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."

"How??"

"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"

And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.

"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).

He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.

Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.

Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.

Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.

All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.

This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.

"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.

"Babysitting?

"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.

A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.

(Part 2)

(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)

[lilpomelito]

Steve being Eddie’s bi or gay awakening whatever. Eddie thinks he’s just so grateful for Steve—I mean the man literally carried him in his arms out of hell like some mythological hero and then basically struck the fear of god on the medical staff who refused to help—so of course he’s obsessed with him, he owes him his life! Of course Eddie wants to know about his day even if Steve thinks it’s boring, of course he brings him lunch to work and maybe adds the little treats he’s seen Steve enjoys like Reese’s cups, of course he’s been listening to Pink Floyd and Dire Straits just because those are Steve’s favorites to gather inspiration. It’s only natural he’s sat Lucas down and demanded he explain the rules of basketball to him so Eddie can at least understand what’s going on when Wayne invites Steve over to watch the game. It’s not weird at all that he asked Jonathan to make a copy of that one cute picture he snapped of Steve roughhousing with Dustin when he develops the film. It’s not strange that he’s read Alice in Wonderland three times just because that’s Steve’s favorite novel. Of course he takes Steve to the movies and he buys him all the snacks he wants. It’s a given that they drive together on a weekend trip Chicago to see a show Steve’s been dying to see. The man saved his life! Eddie’s just grateful, that’s all. That’s why he’s so surprised when Robin confronts him about his “crush”, what crush?? Eddie likes girls! And yes, Steve is an attractive guy, half the town agrees, that’s not a controversial opinion. Who cares that Eddie thinks Steve could be a Hollywood heartthrob if he put his mind and talents to it. He doesn’t have a crush, that’s ridiculous. But Eddie is Eddie and he can’t just leave something be so of course he ends up cornering Nancy of all people to ask her how did she know she liked Steve back in junior year. To his absolute surprise she laughs in his face and tells him not to worry, she’s not interested, and she won’t stand in the way. She also says she’s happy for them, that she always knew Steve “played for both teams” and she’s happy he’s with someone who takes care of him. After that ridiculous conversation Nancy leaves, and Eddie is even more confused than before, because apparently Steve likes guys too, but Eddie doesn’t! Doesn’t he? Nancy is right that he likes taking care of Steve but thats because… well he’s running out of excuses isn’t he?

[lengthofropes]

So, Scoops re-opened their Ahoy, and Steve is back in business. He and Eddie discuss the 'daily special' offers of the new menu in the back room.

STRANGER NICER THINGS 📕 series

[puppy-steve]

im such a sucker for fics where eddie calls steve baby boy

(preserving my tags): #babygirl is reserved for when they're feeling particularly nasty#baby boy is for the soft slow missionary sex that has steve crying while eddie grinds into him and holds his hand on the pillow by his head#:)

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Nancy gets back with Jonathan not too long after. He barges in and makes a beeline straight for Steve. “You know where Will is?”

Steve nods. “There’s a lot to explain.”

“Then you’d better start soon.”

Robin, his savior, steps in. “C’mon, Jonny-boy, let’s go for a walk.” She leads him outside, and Steve can hear her start. “What do you know about time travel?”

He smiles and looks around. He can hear Eddie upstairs, practicing the song. The boys are occupied with planning, Nancy’s looking over Mike’s shoulder, and El’s watching him with big brown eyes. He focuses on her and lets his smile grow. “Wanna help me make dinner?”

Her eyes widen a little, but she nods. “What are we making?”

“Probably sandwiches,” he shrugs. “I’m not sure what else I have. Can you find the bread in the pantry? And there’s butter knives in that drawer over there, we’ll need two.” He winks. “One for you, and one for me.”

She does so, and he pulls out the condiments and lunch meats, as well as the jelly. “And the peanut butter, if you can find it,” he calls from where his head’s stuck in the fridge. He looks around for anything else he might need and grabs the pickles before closing the door.

“Y’know the best part about making dinner?” He asks her, impish grin growing on his face. She hums inquisitively. “We get to make ours first and eat while we make the rest.”

She giggles and accepts the high five he holds out.

They get to work assembling sandwiches. She pauses, mayonnaise slathered halfway onto a piece of bread. “Steve?” He hums. “I’m scared.”

He sighs and puts down his knife. “I am too, El. Terrified, if you can believe it. But I have faith in us. I know we can do it.” He wipes his hands off and rounds the counter, taking her hands in his. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met in my life. Even stronger than Vecna. And this time he won’t know we’re coming. We’ll have the element of surprise on our side, and we will defeat him. We’ll find Will and Barb, and after this we’ll never have to worry about it again.” He strokes a hand over her head and sighs. “There’s something else, too. I know where Papa is.”

She pulls back, eyes wide, posture stiff. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m not going to take you back there. Ever. Okay?”

She nods hesitantly, but allows him to pull her closer again. “I was going to ask if you want us to take care of him,” he murmurs. “Lock him inside and set the building on fire, or something.”

She shakes her head. “He loves me!”

“Oh, El,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same thing of my parents for a long time. No matter how mad they got, how much they yelled, how much they hurt me… they said it, so it must be true, right? They must love me. I must be the problem.” He shakes his head. “That’s not love. You fear him, El, and for good reason. He made you into what you are, but you never asked for this, and it’s okay to be angry about it.” She looks up at him with wide eyes, and he sighs. “I’ll give you some time to think about it,” he murmurs. “If the answer is still no, that’s okay. But if you change your mind, that’s okay, too.”

She nods, steps out of the hug. He lets her go, feeling like he’s almost knocked a vase off a table. His heart’s still thumping oddly, eyes wide, scared to make the wrong move.

But then she looks up at him and offers him a small smile. “Thank you,” she says. “I know the way you treat me is different from how Papa treats me. I do not know yet if they are simply different forms of love or if you are right. I think you are, but…”

“You need to see for yourself,” Steve nods. Moves the metaphorical vase back from the edge of the table. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help prove it.”

“I will,” she says, and picks up her butter knife again, spreading mustard onto a piece of bread. He goes back to his side and smiles at her.

“Steve?” She asks after a second. “When my hair grows back. What does it look like?”

He thinks for a second. “It’s fluffy,” he says. “Very soft and light. Like cotton candy.” He puts his head to one side. “Floofy,” he decides, and grins.

She giggles. “Like you!”

He opens his mouth to tell her no, she’s wrong, except… he can’t. “Yours is even more beautiful,” he tells her. “And kids in school nicknamed me ‘the Hair’. That’s how famous this was.” He tilts his head her direction, and a lock of hair falls in his face. He splutters and shakes his head, grinning when she laughs again.

“I am very glad you came back, Steve,” she says suddenly, seriously, a little at odds with the smile still quirking her lips up.

His heart breaks and mends all in the same second. It feels like absolution. “Me too,” he says, and means it.

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[artgroves]

artset for You were not born here (but this is where you belong)

Story by @fabelds-blog for @steddiebang Art by @artgroves Rating: M Fandom: Stranger Things Relationships: Eddie Munson / Steve Harrington Word Count: 40K Tags: Canon AU, slow burn

Summary: In the months after the Starcourt fire, Eddie Munson takes on three new challenges: finishing his torturous summer assignment, running Reefer Rick’s operation, and his renewed crush on a reformed Steve Harrington.

On AO3

[hitlikehammers]

Post S4!Eddie Needs a Little Help

Good thing Steve's such an excellent nurse boyfriend? friend, huh?

I Could Be Your Nurse (or something)

Or: Five Times Eddie Has To Ask For Help, Plus One Time He Doesn’t Need It Anymore (but asks anyway) ✨ for @penny00dreadful 💜

🧊 one: drink 🧊

The first thing he clocks, when he surfaces back to the land of the living: he can’t move his fucking arms.

At first, he thinks he’s locked up, restrained somehow: cuffed, but he can’t even know that, he can’t even check because he can barely fucking move at all, he—

“Eddie,” he hears his name through white noise that’s tunneling his vision, that’s caving in with every blow his pounding heartbeat deals to the walls as they close closer—there’s beeping like a time bomb in the background but it’s not just his name, it’s the voice that speaks it: it cuts through. It bolsters the walls and shelters him from collapse as his eyes dart wild, seeking out the sound.

“Breathe,” plush lips and earnest eyes coax him, and Eddie feels his own eyes widen because: Steve goddamn Harrington.

Here.

“You can breathe, okay,” Steve’s saying and his eyes are bigger now, there’s a pleading in his tone and Eddie sees it happen before any sensation, any feeling comes with it: Steve’s got Eddie’s hand in his, cups it to his chest but never breaks from holding Eddie’s gaze and the first thing Eddie thinks he feels as a touch is the warm pressure of the chest under their joined hands lifting almost-too-strong, almost-too-full.

The things Eddie feels that have nothing to do with his five fucking senses—he’ll work those out later.

“Come on, with me, with me, yeah?” and Steve’s breathing deep and even and forced for it, keeping a punishingly intentional sort of time and Eddie realizes oh, hey, right: he does need to breathe and so the next thing that he feels is the tail-end of pain, sneaking up under a fog that hints at any to come when whatever’s blanketing the feeling gets lifted, taken away, but then Eddie’s zeroing in on Steve’s face again, gasping a little and fuck, but it hurts: but Steve.

Steve’s smiling at him, in a way Eddie doesn’t know he’s ever seen before; definitely never felt before for the way it points a direct hit to his sternum, all fuzzy and sunrise-gold, and he doesn’t know if it helps him or hurts him in trying to breathe, to get the rhythm back to is but it sure as shit kicks at his heart and he thinks that punches his lungs hard enough to do…something, because Steve’s smile just grows, and the warm-gold-glow starts to spread through Eddie as something bigger and brighter and fuller than the pain as Steve exhales once out-of-sync and Eddie feels it, how Steve presses his hand tighter to his chest for it and laughs a little around one single word:

“Yeah,” and then it’s back to deep breaths, carefully measured, and Eddie wants Steve to talk again, but his head’s getting clearer, his lungs remembering how to work right, and he feels things under his hand now where he didn’t before: soft sweater. Rabbit-quick heartbeat.

“Steve,” Eddie chokes it, drags the word across gravel and bleeds it out and he’s disgusted in an instant, horrified by the sound coming out of himbut before he can let the terror and the hurt swallow him, he sees Steve, who somehow found a way to grin broader, shine brighter.

“Hey,” he laughs it out with so much goddamn relief, so much feeling, that Eddie can’t help but melt into it; Steve must feel something in him, or maybe he just knows, because he’s gathering Eddie’s hand, flattening it as a palm against his chest to keep breathing, keep breathing, but then he’s reaching and there’s a gentle whisper of touch against Eddie’s left cheek, and it stings, and he knows he should feel more but it’s…it’s goodeven as it aches and he leans, fuck, he doesn’t think twice before he leans.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice,” Steve says and it’s so warm and honest and it’s fucking laughable because Eddie sounds goddamn abysmal, and his throat tries to push the laughter, even if it’s poorly placed, even if nothing really feels fucking funny about anything but the effort’s like sandpaper on glass, wretched and violent, and Steve’s eyes widen when Eddie flaps at his neck, but he’s already reaching for the side of the bed, and—

“Water?” He asks, holding up a pitcher and a clear plastic cup and Eddie bites his tongue, tries to remember breathing without Steve’s guiding hand and he almost manages as he nods and then tries to reach when Steve places the pitcher, cup in his hand but Eddie’s hand…

He can’t lift it right. His vision’s either totally fucked, or his hand is tremoring hard enough to make him dizzy. He can’t feel anything, again. He—

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is careful, gentle, but it’s firm: like it knows it’ll find steel to press against when Eddie meets his gaze and makes himself listen: he wants the glass. He can’t…he can’t reach for it, let alone hold it, let alone get the water to his mouth, and not all over everywhere else for the shaking. He doesn’t know if he’d feel the width and weight of the cup, or the wetness of the spill: he’s a mess, he’s broken, he’s totally fucked, what even if this, what is he, is this what it means to have survived, what is wrong with him—

“Look at me.”

Steve’s got that tender-pressed iron in his tone, the command less grating where it would make Eddie seethe—still does, the slightest bit but so far beneath everything else; beneath a sense of being cared for, being held close and then Steve’s hand is reaching for Eddie’s face again, brushing along his cheek and oh.

Oh, tears. He, he was—

“We almost lost you, Eds,” and it’s Steve that sounds choked for it, his voice wet and weeping with it and eyes gleaming just a little too bright and Eddie’s pulse trips to see it: proof that he means something. Proof that the wild things Eddie’d let himself imagine in the past days, in what he was so fucking sure were his last moments at all: they might still be wild, but they might also be things he’ll get to touch just an edge of, a gentle mercy of the corner of the things he spun up in his head.

“We almost lost you,” Steve says it again, and it’s sounds just as gutted, fucking…heartbroken, and for what, for Eddie? He, it’s—

“And you’re on a lot of medications, and you have a lot of injuries, and some of it’s gonna just take time and some of it’s gonna take more work, but Eddie,” Steve tilts his head, leans in and Eddie can feel the body heat of him from the chest on out: “Eddie, we are all here to help you, okay? No questions asked, we’re here to help,” and Steve’s eyes are a piercing kind of starfield, deep-dark but lightened by the fire burning: kinda mesmerizing even before he speaks again:

“Because we love you, all of us love you, and we are so fucking relieved you’re still here,” and there’s no question in it, no hesitation or resistance: it’s wholly felt and believed and Eddie reels a little for it because how and why, and the idea of all of them, and of Steve being included in the all-of-them, and love, of any kind, but love being a word no one fucking uses for a thing that’s small, or weak, or fleeting and just, just…

“And it’s not charity, or obligation, or pity,” and it’s like Steve can read him, can see his soul, the worst endings to the story that had drowned him in an instant when he couldn’t feel his fingers, when he couldn’t grasp a goddamn cup, before he could even stop to consider that he was already in the best possible ending, either way.

Because it was one he was still here to see.

“Kinda the opposite, really,” Steve’s slipping his fingers between Eddie’s atop his sweater; “because it kinda hurts when we’re not here to see you being okay,” and it’s so earnest, so sincere when he says it, when his voice goes low and faint like he doesn’t want to tempt the universe by letting it hear an unthinkable possibility that they’d dodged to by the skin of their teeth, but by the skin on their bones as sacrifice, scars to match and all:

“It hurts to be anywhere but here, where you’re okay, when we were so fucking afraid you wouldn’t be.”

And doesn’t that fucking sear for the slap of it in his face; doesn’t that goddamn sing in his veins that still have blood pumping through them, Jesus H. Christ.

“So,” Steve leans forward, draws Eddie’s touch somehow closer, has to almost be painful when all Eddie can process above the fog and the warmth is the breadth of Steve’s chest, and the thrum of his heartbeat as real-real-real, and there for Eddie to anchor himself in as being real, too.

“Will you let me help?”

Eddie’s eyes dart to where Steve’s placed the cup back on the side table, and has a hand near it waiting: for permission. He’s giving Eddie a choice, and there’s a version of Eddie, in a version of events not so far from these, here, but then so far from these here, that would fight harder at the idea of being coddled, of being invalided and made purposeless, fucking pointless for being wholly ripped of his ability to care for his own needs and wants, but this…

This isn’t that version.

So he nods, and Steve lets out a sigh Eddie can map from inhale to release, and he smiles like it’s a gift to him that Eddie lets him do this, lets him lift the lip of the cup to Eddie’s lips, careful and Eddie can feel it rest on tender flesh, something torn there too like so much else of him, and he drinks like manna from a heaven he doesn’t believe in, save that he thinks there’s something angelic, something godly in the tenderness of Steve’s movements, of his eyes on Eddie, of his heartbeat under Eddie’s touch: just him, there, present.

Like all the idly musings he’d allowed himself in the dark of a hellscape, in the moments he’d thought for sure would be his last: like those fleeting little fantasies may not have legs for themselves, but could grow into something just as good, or better even.

Because maybe they’ll be something true.

“Thank you,” Eddie manages to say, and it’s a whisper but it’s not something out of a horror film, so it’s an improvement after five careful swallows and Steve’s deft hand to wipe his bottom lip.

“Thank you for letting me,” Steve’s foolish enough, perfect enough to say; “it helps me, too.”

How, though? How, and more: how are they here like this, in this moment? Just—

“How’d I get out?” It’s an easier question to ask, so he feints that way instead.

“We carried you out.”

Vague.

“Who did?”

Steve only blinks, but his heart thumps an extra beat against Eddie’s fingertips.

“I did.”

Of course he did. Of course it was him.

“You’re,” Eddie licks his lips, closes his eyes; tries to figure out if he needs more water to keep going: no. No, he can do this.

“You’re okay?” he turns his hand just a slightest bit, doesn’t want to stop touching Steve but wants to press his hand to Steve’s the other way ‘round.

“Bats,” he manages to mouth, and Steve’s got the water to his lips again, now, carefully portioning his sips as he answers:

“Getting there, but I’m fine.”

Eddie wants to roll his eyes. Eddie wants to hold Steve to his chest and check his wounds himself. Eddie wants…

“Everyone else? Dustin?” he follows up because he can guess; Steve wouldn’t be so calm if something terrible had come of the battle, but still. “And—”

“Healing,” Steve’s quick to answer the half-formed questions, knows what Eddie’s concerned with most without trying and maybe it’s obvious, probably yeah it is but it feels warm in him again, through him like honey, thick and slow and sweet. “Max has got a rough road ahead, and it’s touch-and-go, because we’re pretty sure the things that are still wrong with her are tied up in Vecna,” Eddie frowns; regrets it for the pull and why is sensation coming back for hurting; “we didn’t wipe him out entirely, we lost this battle,” but then Steve’s hand is closer against his cheek: he doesn’t know if he leaned in or his Steve moved nearer but it doesn’t matter because Eddie will hurt far more than this, will take feeling for all it’s highs and lows, will claim it back and clutch it close if he also gets to feel Steve.

“But maybe more it’s like a draw, really, because it could have been such a bigger loss,” and Steve’s voice catches, and so does his breath where Eddie’s hand’s still charting; his pulse trips and Eddie frowns deeper, fuck the pain of it and whatever real damage it does above the waves of heavy narcotics, Steve’s eyes have gone glassy and his throat’s working harder around something thick, difficult, and the hand holding Eddie’s to Steve’s chest is rubbing the skin at his wrist near-raw for how hard and how metronomic it’s digging against Eddie’s veins, and his mouth’s parted and he’s staring at Eddie like—

Oh.

Oh, that’s what he meant, about…bigger losses.

Well, shit.

“And there’s still hope, y’know?” Steve’s voice comes quiet in comparison to where it was before but it’s still music. Still beautiful.

Eddie tries to swallow, wet his mouth on his own but he can’t so he turns eyes that can’t possibly look short of pleading, now, and blinks toward the cup at the bedside and Steve’s on it in an instant, easing it to Eddie’s mouth and tipping gently, painstaking in its care until Eddie pulls back and steels himself to try again with words, because these ones, he needs the to come out strong, and right:

“We’ll win the war.”

It’s scratchy, and probably more motion than sound but: it’s there, and it’s full and solid and Steve fucking beams for it:

“Yeah,” Steve speaks it like it’s fact, or like in saying it he’ll seal it as law and Eddie believes it just as sure, too, so:

“Yeah, we will.”

They will. They will.

They sit like that for a while, and Eddie feels the exertion of doing very little at all start to creep up on him and he must shift, or make a sound he can’t quite pick up himself to notice because Steve’s quick to jump:

“What else do you need?”

And Eddie’s drifting, and he doesn’t want to be a bother, a burden—useless—but Steve’s looking at him…the way Steve is looking at him?

It kinda prickles behind Eddie’s eyes, so he closes them, which feels like such a goddamn loss because then he can’t see Steve and he, he just…

“Can you,” Eddie starts to bite his lower lip but the sting rips through at the first hint of pressure so he bites at the tip of his tongue instead, and Steve’s already settling him; he never sat up, not truly, but Steve’s making sure he’s laid flat and comfortable, pillows arranged just so and Eddie can barely manage to pat the mattress when Steve retreats, but Steve knows him for that innocent gesture, too: grabs for his hand and Eddie remembers breathing well enough, now, to sigh in contentless, in fucking relief for the touch.

“Couldn’t feel,” he rasps a little; “hands, arms, when I first,” and then he opens his eyes, and locks gazes with Steve and forgets, for a second; forgets again, about the breathing.

And it’s okay; he’s okay with forgetting.

“Would it,” Eddie struggles with the words, throat start to feel a burn in it for the strain; “okay if—“

“The answer’s yes, man,” Steve’s soothing him, but also kind of shushing him, all in one go: “whatever it is, okay? So just ask, don’t like, pull the punch,” then Steve’s squeezing his hand, and murmuring deep and smooth and almost like a purr, a source of pure comfort just to hear, and then to feel through the air between them:

“‘Cause it’s not a punch, yeah?”

And: okay. Okay then, he can; Eddie can do this.

“Can you keep,” he barely breathes, but it’s all he remembers so he goes with it, hopes it’s enough: “holding? I can feel, when you’re…”

He trails off, but it’s…fine. It’s fine, because Steve never lets go once, just readjusts the hold of his hand on Eddie’s, of Eddie’s inside his, and settles next to him quiet and steadfast and kind of fucking everything and Eddie fades into the feeling of it with the last of his words like a vow:

“I’ll hold it until you wake back up, if you want.”

And if Eddie knows anything as sleep claims him: he knows that he wants.

>>> two: wash 🧼🫧🚿

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick

divider credits here & here

👾 title credit here

💫 ao3 link here

[myshipsmyotpmylifeistrash]

Hate when a fic is labeled slow burn and the author says it’s gonna be extremely slow burn but the characters already like each other

Like I want to see the leading up to them even having feelings for each other, type of slow burn, not them just get into a relationship type of slow burn.

And like why is it only one chapter and less than 10k

Like I need to see the evolution of them even having feelings for each other, not start the fic with them already having these feelings.

Please someone tell me if this makes sense