#took a break from my virgin Eddie agenda for this and it was fun to write

[corrodedbisexual]

Suck it better

Steddie | E | ~3.5k | AO3 link

Featuring: Porn With Plot (a little bit of plot ok I tried), Hand & Finger Kink, Thumb-sucking, Praise Kink, Competence Kink (if you squint), Hand Job, Blow Job, Masturbation, Fluff and Smut, Boys Kissing, Experienced Eddie Munson, POV Steve Harrington

A slightly belated gift for @stobinesque 🥰 happy birthday new friend!!!

“Sorry, sorry, just a sec,” Steve chuckles, scrambling to tug his sweatshirt from underneath Eddie’s butt. “I’d really rather not have a needle stuck in my dick.” Above him, Eddie giggles. Steve tosses the shirt away and looks up. “What?” Steve raises his eyebrows, unable not to smile back at Eddie’s cheeky expression. Eddie bites on his fist, looks away, then back to Steve, his grin impossibly wide. “Well. If that happened, I could always suck it better, you know.” *** An impromptu lesson in mending clothes takes an unexpected turn when Steve accidentally stabs his thumb with the needle.

They are in the middle of their weekly hangout at Eddie’s trailer, stretched out on the bed in his room, when Eddie suddenly says, “Hey, you’ve got a hole in your shirt, Stevie.”

Steve tugs on the edge of his green sweatshirt to see where Eddie’s pointing. There, he sees it; just below his armpit, the seams have come apart, revealing a gap about two inches long.

It was about time that happened, he supposes. He’s had this shirt for years, and it’s a little tighter on him now that he doesn’t regularly play sports or adhere to a diet. But it’s one of his comfiest ones, so soft and worn. Also, kind of a bittersweet reminder of simpler times, when he was just a high school student, blissfully clueless of what lurks beneath Hawkins. 

“Shit,” he murmurs. “I really liked this one.”

Eddie snorts.

“You sound like it got set on fire, or something. It’s fine, it just needs stitches.”

“Right, if only I had a… girlfriend who could fix it for me,” Steve replies. He almost said mother, catching himself at the last moment; it’s kind of pathetic to assume your mom would be mending your clothes at nineteen years old. 

Eddie narrows his eyes at him.

“Well, maybe not a girlfriend, but you do have a friend. ”

Steve shakes his head.

“Robin doesn’t know how to sew.”

Eddie groans, kicking him lightly against his shin. 

“And that is exactly why it’s sexist to assume you need a girl for the task, Steve.”

Eddie bends over the edge of the bed and reaches under it, pushing some items around audibly, then letting out a triumphant grunt and coming back up with a metal tin box. Bigger than the one he usually carries weed in. He opens the lid, and when Steve looks inside, he sees a bunch of various colored threads, a small pillow of different sized needles and pins, scissors, and several other items he can’t quite place. 

“Not all girls can sew,” Eddie speaks, taking a couple of green thread rolls and bringing them to Steve’s sleeve in turn, putting aside the one that looks almost the exact same color. “And not all those who can are girls.”

“Oh,” Steve says dumbly. “I wasn’t… trying to be sexist, sorry. I didn’t know you can sew.”

“What, did you think my battle vest was custom ordered?” Eddie smirks, untangling the thread and biting through it once he has the length he needs; Steve’s too ashamed to admit that it’s kind of exactly what he assumed. “I made it myself. I make a lot of things. Been sewing my Halloween costumes from scratch since I was thirteen. Plus, I patch up my own and Wayne’s clothes all the time. This kinda skill saves you a whole lot of cash.”

“That’s… really cool,” Steve finally says, genuinely impressed. Narrowing his eyes, Eddie pokes the thread into the needle once, twice, then swiftly pulling it through the eye. “Wow, how’d you do that so fast?” Steve laughs. “I remember my mum cursing up a storm for several minutes every time. She was obsessed with embroidery for a while.” 

Eddie smirks, setting the thread down and wriggling his fingers in the air. “I guess I just have very talented hands, Stevie.” 

Steve swallows, hoping his cheeks don’t look as red as they suddenly feel, because… he’s having a really, really hard time not thinking about exactly how talented Eddie’s hands could be. 

Steve blinks back to reality when he realizes Eddie’s saying something to him.

“What?”

“I said, gimme.” Eddie chuckles and tugs on Steve’s sleeve. 

“Oh.” Steve looks down at his sweatshirt, then up at Eddie, needle with a green thread already in hand. “Eds, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m aware, I don’t see you holding me at gunpoint,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I can’t bear witness to a perfectly good thing being thrown in the trash. Also, it literally takes five minutes, do I look busy to you? Come on, shirt off.”

Read the rest on AO3