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touretticeddiemunson · 10 months ago

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“(if i get more pretty) do you think he will like me?” [wayne’s pov]

summary: transmasc eddie trying so hard to be a girl because he likes steve, and as far as he knows, steve is straight. he’s constantly putting his own mental health in jeopardy just because of a stupid boy.

Wayne wonders why his boy is suddenly curling his hair again, putting on lip gloss, and wearing those little black dresses he once wore when he was in junior high. He watches Eddie come home with mascara stains stuck to his cheeks, a dead giveaway that he’d been crying.

It gets to the point that Eddie asks Wayne to stop calling him “he”.

He tells Wayne he’s not a boy, he was wrong; he wanted to be a girl again.

Wayne had no problem making Eddie comfortable, so he did what she wanted. She wanted to be called Ella again, wanted Wayne to take her shopping for different clothes. But even though Ella insisted, Wayne couldn’t help but notice that “Ella” still wasn’t happy. “She” still came home crying, as unhappy as she was before her transition to male, possibly even moreso.

Eddie never seemed the type to pretend to be something he wasn’t. So why was he doing it now? Eddie seemed to be perfectly happy as Eddie.

One day, Wayne’s boy came home in his old clothes. He looked just as dejected as the days he’d come home crying. Every time he asked what was up, Eddie shut him down. He decided to be “Eddie” again, shouted that he was done pretending, that he would never like him anyway. Despite all the questions Wayne had brewing, he knew better than to ask them. It wasn’t like Eddie would answer them.

Years went by and his boy still wasn’t happy. He didn’t see him that way until months after the earthquake came and destroyed their house. Even then, he wasn’t himself, and rightfully so. Wayne longed to see his boy the way he was before he was affected by whoever made him question who he wanted to be.

He finally saw Eddie happy again one night. Wayne came home late to find his boy smiling in his sleep on the couch, cheek pressed against the shoulder of the Harrington boy. There was a snuffed joint in the ashtray and a few empty bottles of beer on the floor. He gave Eddie a kiss on the forehead and watched lovingly as the boy shuffled in the other’s strong arms. He wondered if this was the person who’d caused Eddie try to be his old self; the person who made his boy so unhappy. He hoped to whatever god there was that this boy was going to be good to his Eddie, that he wouldn’t make him feel unloved again.

Over the course of several more years, the two boys grew closer. They didn’t have to say anything to Wayne for him to know they were in love. They moved off to Chicago with Eddie’s band, where they put out their first album.

In the times Eddie was convincing himself that he was supposed to be a girl, Wayne could hear Eddie picking up his guitar in the dead of night and plucking out chords. He heard his quiet, pained voice fighting against sobs, choking out words to a song Eddie was writing.

After spending 2 years traveling through America with the band, Corroded Coffin was a household name for metal fans. Eddie became a hot topic in magazines, became a staple of the metal scene. They held their biggest concert at Lollapalooza that year and got Wayne VIP seating.

That evening, they played a new song.

“Is everyone enjoying the show tonight?” Eddie called into the mic. He was met with thunderous cheers, enough to make everyone’s ears ring. “That’s great to hear, you guys. It means a lot that you came out to see us. We’re gonna end the night with a new song and then we’ll turn it over to your next artist, but I have a little to say about it first,” He announced.

The chords took Wayne back to a time he’d never forget. Weeks after the concert, they released their new album containing the song. The album “In the Dead of Night” was a hit everywhere, released on streaming platforms and even printed on vinyl. The moment it hit the record store in Hawkins, Wayne bought the first copy he could get his hands on. He rushed home and put it on his record player, sniffling as the familiar chords reached Wayne’s ears again.

Wayne stood crying in the kitchen next to the record player as he listened to the full product of Eddie’s teenage torment.

“If I get more pretty, do you think he will like me?”

a/n: i was inspired by the lyrics of “prom queen” by beach bunny for this. the song is originally about developing an ED, but i also thought that it would fit really well as someone going back in the closet pretending to be someone they’re not.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #i live for trans eddie #transgender #wayne munson #trans eddie au #corroded coffin #stranger things fic #stranger things #steddie angst #hurt/comfort #light angst

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touretticeddiemunson · 1 year ago

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Eddie *takes a long drag of his cigarette*

Steve: You good, dude?

Eddie: My sketchers don't light up anymore

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touretticeddiemunson · 1 year ago

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Buzzcut

For @klausinamarink ‘s birthday. I’m sorry this is late, my friend 💗

Eddie’s gonna kill him. Gonna murder his uncle and bury him in the backyard so he can never embarrass Eddie ever, ever again.

“This one,” Wayne the Betrayer continues, leafing over to the next page, “was Eddie’s eighth grade talent show.”

Steve makes a particularly strangled noise that lands somewhere between a coo and a laugh, pointing at the photo that Eddie is positive he’d set fire to last year.

Wayne must’ve made copies.

“Look at your hair!” Steve giggles, downright bouncing in his seat as he points to Eddie’s hideous buzzcut, “you were so cute!”

Eddie makes another grab for the photo album but his stupid jock boyfriend with his stupid, hot jock reflexes dances away, getting up from the couch to turn to the next page, which only makes him giggle louder.

“Look at you!” Steve downright coos this time, holding the photo album so close to his face it nearly rubs at his nose.

“I will never forgive you for this.” Eddie grumbles, Steve practically bouncing on his toes as he takes in Eddie’s woeful eighth-grade haircut, and Wayne has the audacity to scoff.

“Your boy asked. I ain’t about to refuse him.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Eddie whines, and Wayne rolls his eyes.

“Not when you’re bein’ an idjit.”

Steve dances back over, keeping the album a safe distance away as he shows Eddie another photo, this time with him at a table covered in dice and miniatures, his hair still cropped close to his head. “I’m framing these.” Steve announces, tapping at the photograph, “look at you!”

And Steve’s smiling so big and wide, so obviously enamored, and Eddie, despite himself, feels his irritation shrink.

“We’re burning it.” Eddie counters, but it’s without heat, and Steve sits down next to him, no longer afraid for the albums safety.

“I love them.” Steve maintains, and Eddie softens more at the heartfelt way his boyfriend gazes on his awkward, gangly phase, on Eddie’s shaved head and how it accentuates his too-big ears and buggy eyes, Steve cradling the pages like those years are something precious.

“You’re biased.” Eddie grumbles, but he scoots a little closer to Steve. Presses their shoulders together. Their thighs.

“‘Ve got baby photos.” Wayne suddenly announces, and Eddie nearly topples off the couch, “you know he didn’t get hair until he was three?”

My permanent tag list (sorry yall are getting tagged twice in one day I am overdue on some gifts!!!) 💗: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade

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touretticeddiemunson · 1 year ago

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i wanna make you love me

for @subeddieweek day three with the prompts brat eddie and wet and choking

rated e | 2,978 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one: ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

He’s left on his knees, blindfolded.

There’s no sound in the room, nothing to give away what’s coming next.

Fingers in his hair. Hand around his throat. Lips against his ear.

“You’re helpless like this, aren’t you?”

Eddie whined.

Whining never got him anywhere except in more trouble, and sometimes Eddie really liked being in trouble.

And because Steve was always honest after a scene, he admitted that he loved when Eddie was a brat, loved to see him subtly ignore Steve’s directions and make little noises even when he was supposed to be quiet. Eddie played into it sometimes, but it came naturally for him to ignore orders, even when he was floating away in his head.

The hand around his throat tightened for a moment, barely enough to actually cut off his air, and then disappeared completely.

“I know what you want, but if you can’t be my good boy, you don’t get to have it. You know better,” Steve said from behind him.

Eddie’s hands weren’t tied, they hardly ever were if he was blindfolded. The only time he’d had to safeword was when he’d been tied up in bed and blindfolded with a gag in. He felt too helpless, past the point of enjoying whatever control Steve had and into dangerous territory. But he knew not to move them.

Moving them would mean punishment, and never the kind he actually wanted.

Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging at his scalp until he had no choice but to let his head fall backwards. He rested it against Steve’s thigh, a smug smile making its way across his face.

“You want me to be your good boy?” Eddie rasped out. “Maybe I don’t feel like being good.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, not even letting out a breath.

“I’m not spanking you.”

Eddie immediately pouted. It’s not that he thought he’d get what he wanted immediately, but that tone was definite, final.

“Not even one time?” Eddie hated not being able to see the look on Steve’s face. “Even if I promise to cry?”

Steve snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be crying soon enough, but it won’t be from my hand on your ass.”

Steve’s leg disappeared from behind him so quickly he nearly fell backwards. He managed to right himself just as Steve’s laugh hit his ears.

“Take away your sight and it’s like you can’t do anything, huh?” Steve teased. “I’ll just wait right here and you let me know when you wanna be good.”

“Hope you’re comfy. Could be a while,” Eddie responded, ignoring the heat on his cheeks at his mild embarrassment. Steve knew exactly what buttons to push and when, but Eddie knew exactly how hard to fight back to get what he wanted.

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet.

Everything was still.

Eventually, Eddie sighed. “Are you really gonna try to be more stubborn than me, a brat?”

“You’re barely a brat, Eddie. Just need to learn lessons the hard way, don’t you?” Steve sounded like he was sitting on his bed, but it was hard to know for sure. “I have all night. I’ve got a drink and a comfy bed. I’ll be fine.”

“You know I like being on my knees. I’ll be fine, too.”

Except he wasn’t. Already, all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch Steve, to be touched by Steve. His knees were sore, his arms were sore, his ass was sore from sitting on his feet this long. He was already close to giving in when the sound of Steve’s belt coming off distracted him.

He’d had plenty of thoughts about how that belt could be used before, and wouldn’t really be opposed to any of those options now.

But the belt hit the floor and the bed creaked.

Steve wasn’t using the belt on him. Steve was relaxing in his bed. Probably not even paying any attention to Eddie or his hard and leaking cock.

Fucking rude.

Eddie’s fingers tapped against each other behind his back, maybe a song or maybe just impatience. Probably impatience. His head wasn’t full of anything except irritation at being ignored.

He knew that’s what Steve wanted, for the irritation to win and he would give in to whatever Steve desired. He’d crawl on his hands and knees over to the bed, apologizing for being a brat and begging to be touched, to get his mouth on Steve’s cock, anything.

Eddie would be lying if he didn’t want that, too.

But more than that, he wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t give in for once, if Steve finally got tired of the attitude and did something about it.

Maybe he’d actually, finally fuck him.

Everything they’d done until now had been hands and mouths only, which was amazing and better than anything Eddie could have expected from anyone, let alone Steve.

After a hard day at school, coming back home and knowing that Steve would be over after his shift at Family Video to take care of him or to bring him back to his house to let him get loud would turn his entire day around. It happened often enough that he knew he was becoming somewhat dependent on it. But with nearly two months of this under their belt, Eddie was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one with feelings far beyond the trust between friends.

Steve let out a groan.

And then Eddie heard it: the slick noise of him stripping his own cock, probably using the lube from his bedside table. Or his own spit.

God, that made Eddie see red.

It was his job to spit on Steve’s cock, his job to let his hand or mouth be used by Steve so he could get off.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized this was Steve’s punishment for him, making him listen to him get off without him.

“Wish that was my hand,” Eddie said with a smirk.

If he played this right, maybe Steve would get desperate enough to give in.

“I bet you do, baby,” Steve replied, breathless, like he was already close to the edge. How long had he been worked up? How had he been so quiet before?

“Or my mouth,” Eddie supplied, feeling a little less confident that Steve would give in.

“Mhm,” Steve said before moaning, his hand speeding up on his cock.

Eddie wanted to watch. He wanted his mouth around him. He wanted Steve’s hands in his hair, pushing him down until he was choking, spit making a mess under them. He wanted to rip this blindfold off and let the image of Steve getting himself off be burned permanently into his brain, used for the nights when Steve was busy shuffling kids around or hanging out with Robin or working a closing shift.

“Can I please watch?” Eddie was desperate, okay? Being a brat came second to seeing Steve’s thick cock leaking precum while he fucked his own hand.

“Oh, I dunno,” Steve’s hand stopped. “I think you should have to listen to me get off since you decided to touch yourself without permission.”

That was how all of this started.

—

Steve had told him not to touch himself last night when he left the trailer, wanted to see if he could go a few days without it and said he had a plan to make it worth his while.

Of course, Eddie, still wrung out from two back-to-back orgasms from Steve’s mouth, had agreed with no argument.

It didn’t occur to him how difficult that would be until he woke up humping his mattress and whimpering Steve’s name.

He’d done okay the first part of the day, despite the rough start, because he’d overslept and had to rush to school. He made it all the way through his band practice with the guys, skipping the song he wrote about Steve so he wouldn’t face any unexplainable challenges. Made it through dinner with Wayne, though he started to feel a bit jittery when he realized it was nearly seven and Steve hadn’t called to let him know he was leaving work yet.

Those jitters got worse when Wayne left for his night shift, now officially a permanent change to his schedule. It was great for having Steve over, but kinda sucked for the nights when he’d be alone.

He paced the floor, tried playing his guitar, tried smoking.

When the phone rang, Eddie rushed to grab it, only to be told by Steve that he was running a bit late and wouldn’t be able to stay long.

Something in Eddie snapped when he hung up.

His hand immediately went to the button on his jeans, popping it open and shoving his hand down the front of his pants.

Nothing except getting off was on his mind.

That’s how Steve found him: pants at his knees while he fisted his own cock while sitting on the couch waiting for him.

At first, he hadn’t said anything, just stared at him until Eddie stopped moving, chest heaving as he tried to find his breath.

“Get in my car.”

Not even a hello, not even a wave.

He didn’t even stay inside to see if Eddie was listening. He left the trailer and got in his car.

Eddie followed. Of course, he did.

The ride to Steve’s house was silent, radio turned off to add to Eddie’s stress.

He was still rock hard in his pants, and the longer he went without any relief, the more painful it got.

When they got to Steve’s house, he got out, not waiting for Eddie as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. Eddie stumbled out of the car and into the house, feeling just a bit on edge in more ways than one.

“So I ask you not to touch yourself less than 24 hours ago. I even tell you there’s a reward in it for you if you can do it. And what do you do?” Steve’s arms are folded across his chest as he stands at the foot of the stairs.

“Um. Touch myself?”

“You wanna explain?”

Eddie hated that tone. It sounded like every time a teacher found one of his papers lacking despite all his efforts, or when a cop caught him dealing in the woods last year. It was different when it was Steve, but it still annoyed him, put him on edge.

So he responded as he always did.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

And now he was suffering.

–

Not actually. Like, he wasn’t in pain. He was probably going to come untouched soon just from the combination of everything happening, and the embarrassment of that would probably be emotionally painful, but he’d been through worse.

It was just hard to know he was missing a good show and probably wouldn’t even get to have Steve’s hands on him because he was impatient.

So maybe the punishment was working.

Eddie felt himself whimper.

“Color?” Steve asked, because he was always paying attention, even when Eddie deserved this treatment. He was always more concerned about Eddie being okay.

Eddie evaluated himself. Mentally, he was okay, other than being frustrated. But physically, his legs were starting to actually hurt to a point beyond the kind he enjoyed. He was losing feeling in his feet and hated the pins and needles that came with feeling coming back.

“Yellow.”

Steve was in front of him within seconds, hand on his head, loosening the blindfold.

The blindfold wasn’t a problem. Maybe he could convince him to put it back once he was sitting somewhere more comfortable.

“What do you need, Eds?” Steve’s voice was soft, tender compared to where it had been all night.

“Maybe a chair? Or the bed. My legs hurt.” Eddie blinked up at him, feeling overwhelmed by seeing Steve’s completely naked body in front of him so suddenly.

“Alright. Come up to the bed,” Steve lifted him under his arms, taking most of his weight when Eddie nearly crumbled back to the floor.

His legs were maybe a bit more numb than he realized.

“Shit, baby, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Steve asked as he half-carried him to his bed. “I’m trying to punish you in a sexy way, not an actual painful way.”

Eddie snorted. “I didn’t realize it was this bad. I was kinda lost in my thoughts.”

“You weren’t in space yet, though.”

“No, just thinking about how I’m an idiot and how good you are at knowing exactly what type of punishment gets to me,” Eddie grimaced as he sat back, flexing his knees and ankles to get feeling back in them.

“Well, you like attention and you like being able to touch me, so taking those two things away will definitely get to you.”

“You’re right, but it hurt my feelings, Stevie,” Eddie smiled at him to let him know it didn’t actually hurt him.

“You need anything else?” Steve asked, massaging his legs to get blood flowing again. “Water? Do you need to stop?”

“No, no. I’m good. Maybe just another minute.”

Steve nodded, lifting his leg and kissing his knee.

Eddie watched, swallowed back the words he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t.

This was all he’d have. Just this friendship, this trust, and the care required for a BDSM relationship.

He could keep being okay with that.

“No blindfold though,” Steve said. “You’re gonna watch me take care of myself.”

“But-”

“Nope.” Steve’s hand circled his own cock, not moving, just making it obvious that he was planning on it. “You know what you can do for me, though?”

“What?” Eddie didn’t like the tone of his voice or the growing smile on his face.

“You could spit on my cock, make sure it’s nice and wet for me to get myself off.”

Eddie groaned. He absolutely hated Steve. Hated that Steve was still pushing him in just the right ways. Hated that he actually loved it, never wanted him to stop.

“And if I don’t?” Eddie dared to ask.

“Then I stop now and drive you home.”

Shit. Eddie knew he wasn’t bluffing.

Eddie leaned over, making sure to keep his hands in his own lap, gathered spit in his mouth, and let it drip down onto Steve’s cock.

Steve moaned as it happened, keeping his eyes locked on Eddie’s as he let it pool against his fingers before sliding his hand up and down his length.

Eddie spit again, letting his gaze drop to the way it glistened on Steve’s cock. Mesmerized, Eddie kept his mouth open, letting whatever spit that gathered fall from his mouth.

“Such a good boy for me. Love it when you’re good.” Steve’s other hand nudged Eddie’s face up, eyes piercing him with a hungry look. “Kinda love it when you’re bad, too.”

If Eddie hadn’t already been rock hard for hours, practically edging himself with his own hand and thoughts, then maybe those words wouldn’t have been enough to make him come.

Steve froze, looking down at Eddie’s still twitching cock, the mess he made across his own stomach and thighs. “Holy shit. C’mere,” Steve’s hands grabbed him, tugging him roughly into his lap and spreading the mess of Eddie across both of them and the sheets.

Steve’s lips were hot against his, bruising, rough, unyielding.

Eddie’d never been kissed like that, not even by Steve.

If he could get hard this second from it, he would.

“That was so fucking hot,” Steve gasped against his lips, barely breaking the kiss to speak.

Eddie whimpered, rutting his ass against Steve’s still slick cock, hoping to add to the mess between them.

Steve’s hand ran up his chest, squeezing a nipple between his fingers as he bucked up, seeking more friction. He didn’t need to say anything for Eddie to know he was close.

His hand inched closer to Eddie’s throat, and for a moment, just one, Eddie panicked.

They’d talked about this. Eddie said he wouldn’t trust anyone but Steve, Steve admitted he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for anyone but Eddie, they agreed on what to do if Eddie couldn’t talk and needed to safeword out.

But the moment Steve’s fingers wrapped around his throat, Eddie melted.

Steve barely applied any pressure, just let the weight of his hand rest on his skin, holding him with a silent threat and a strength he never used except when he wanted to throw Eddie around and make him feel good.

“Can’t believe how lucky I am,” Steve said against his jaw, frantically chasing his own orgasm while Eddie was barely holding himself up in his lap. “Get to have you like this. All to myself.”

Steve’s breathy whine gave way to his hand falling from Eddie’s neck.

Warmth hit Eddie’s ass and thighs and he realized the angle of Steve’s cock was almost perfect to slide inside him, if he were loose, if he were wet in the right spot. He closed his eyes at the thought of Steve just slipping into him now, no prep. It was nearly enough to have his cock filling again.

“Fuck,” Steve laughed against Eddie’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Eddie tensed.

Steve tensed.

Steve pulled away, panic all over his face.

Eddie didn’t-

He couldn’t-

He got off of Steve’s lap, crashing down to earth.

“Eddie-”

Eddie stood and ran.

He could handle not being loved.

He was used to not being loved the way he needed and wanted to be.

But he couldn’t handle the small flicker of hope being dashed in his chest. He couldn’t handle the pity Steve would show, apologizing for saying something he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.

He couldn’t handle how much he wanted it to be true.

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touretticeddiemunson · 1 year ago

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touretticeddiemunson · 1 year ago

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Sub Eddie Week, Day 1 — Affirmation (non sexual)

Eddie has Bad Days. Days Steve isn’t sure what to do with him, because it kills him inside to see him get like that and be so helpless to fix it.

There are a lot of factors, he gathers. They don’t always talk directly about it. It’s obvious when it’s the trauma of what they went through; what Eddie went through, specifically — being eaten alive, nearly dying.

Other times it seems like some other trauma Steve is unaware of. A lot of shit from his childhood that Eddie doesn’t ever want to bring up. Steve knows his dad plays a big part of it, especially thanks to Wayne’s input. The loss of his mom too. He hadn’t exactly had an easy childhood, and things didn’t really improve for him into his teenage years.

So Steve has stopped trying to root the source of Eddie’s episodes. He focuses instead on what he can do in the present, what he can try, to drag Eddie out of them.

They’re not always the same, and Steve is prepared to deal with them as they come, in whatever form.

Some days it’s Eddie being surly and snappish, lashing out over little things. Sometimes Eddie goes quiet and still, and he curls up on himself, like he’s trying to take up as little space as possible. Those are rarer, but they’re Steve’s least favorite — because they’re the most un-Eddie. Eddie should never be small, or silent.

Most of the time though, Steve doesn’t know what happens at all, because on those days, Eddie shuts him out completely. Doesn’t want Steve witnessing his vulnerabilities, or is too wrapped up inside his own head. It’s something they’re working on.

Like today, as Steve presses himself against Eddie’s bedroom door, head tilted to catch the sniffling sounds of Eddie on the other side.

“C’mon, Ed.” Steve begs. “You know you only get worse when you do this. I’m right here.”

And Steve knows they’re making progress when, after a few seconds, the lock on the door clicks open. Steve edges it open carefully, and takes in the sight of Eddie crammed into the only uncluttered corner of the room. Tear tracks shine on his cheeks, highlighted by the red lining under his eyes.

Steve has never seen him cry before. Not in this context. He knows he does, but Eddie is always careful to never let him see it. The only times Steve gets a glimpse of Eddie letting those walls down is when they’re having sex — when the dynamic they’ve found themselves in allows Eddie to trust Steve implicitly, to allow that wall to come down and not fear the intimacy of being seen.

Something about that clicks for Steve, right then. The idea of that dynamic, brought out into moments like these.

It’s worth trying.

He kneels down beside Eddie, hand extended as though asking permission to touch him.

Careful, careful, careful.

“Hey,” He whispers. “Do you trust me, Ed?”

There’s hesitation on Eddie’s face, but it’s alright. Steve knows how hard it is for him sometimes. How many times he’s been hurt by the people he was supposed to be able to trust most.

Eventually though, he nods. It warms something inside Steve that he can, that they’ve come far enough that even in the depths of a bad day like this, Eddie knows that Steve is Safe.

“Thank you,” Steve breathes out a sigh of relief, hands coming up to gently cradle Eddie’s face. “Baby boy. My good boy.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

The words are purposeful, chosen specifically. The names Steve usually reserves for the bedroom play, the praise offered when Eddie is being submissive and sweet for him.

There’s a moment, a pause where Steve waits to see if Eddie accepts it. If he’ll sink into the request to bring that dynamic out here — for Eddie to let go and hand himself over to Steve to take care of, to comfort. To take away the bad from him and assume responsibility for it all.

Eddie’s eyes gradually slip shut, and he nods.

Steve strokes Eddie’s cheeks a few times. “What do you need right now, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s eyes open again, and his gaze connects with Steve’s in something challenging. Something tinged with sadness around the edges, like he’s anticipating rejection.

“Tell me you love me.”

And that’s…something they haven’t done yet.

The words they haven’t said aloud, too much baggage surrounding them on both sides. Steve had thought it had been understood, though. The unspoken truth that ran both ways.

Now, he realizes what a miscalculation that was. Now, he looks at the anxiety pouring out of Eddie, the uncertainty. The way he’s braced for the worst, like it’s really a question how he feels.

Steve swallows down any residual trepidation, and he sets aside his own fear, the whispering voice that tells him his love is too much to be accepted by anyone if he doesn’t hold it back. Eddie needs to hear it, whether he feels the same way or not.

“Eddie,” he says, taking hold of Eddie’s wrists, thumbs pressed to his pulse points. “I love you.”

Eddie’s breath catches, and his voice wobbles as he responds, “How long for?”

Steve feels thrown for a loop. “What?”

“How long,” Eddie repeats, something wretched in his tone. “Until you’re sick of me? Of this? How long until it’s too damn much and you realize you’re better than it all? When you wake up and realize that I’m not somebody worth sticking around for?”

Steve lashes out all at once with his hand, gripping Eddie’s chin to force him to make eye contact once again.

“Eddie Munson,” he utters with command, “You listen to me. You don’t get to talk about yourself like that — like you aren’t worth the effort. Because to me? Loving you isn’t effort. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, in fact. And even if it was hard, I’d walk uphill both ways just to earn the privilege of it. So don’t you dare talk about yourself like that. Do you understand?”

Eddie’s eyes are big again, shocked and unsettled, but he nods, an instinctual response to the particular tone of Steve’s voice.

“Good. Good boy,” Steve praises, releasing his chin to stroke his hair.

“As for the other part…I’m not going be naive. The romantic in me wants to promise we’ll be in love forever, but you and I both know things happen, people change. I’m not going to lie to you about something I can’t know. But what I can tell you is that I’ll love you forever. Just like everyone else I’ve loved before, you’ve carved out your very own place here, Munson,” Steve taps his chest. “And that’s never going away. Even if by some stretch of the imagination it one day changes form, I’ll still love you. I’ll always love you. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you today, tomorrow, or for the foreseeable future. Because I love you, and you are worth loving. Do you understand?”

Eddie nods, but this time with tears squeezing out the sides of his eyes.

Steve draws him into his arms, offering a tight embrace of support for the next part.

“This might be hard,” Steve says, “But I’m going to need you to repeat after me now.”

“What?” Eddie asks, beginning to pull away, confusion etched on his features.

“Eddie,” Steve reprimands him. “Aren’t you going to be good for me?”

Eddie catches himself, a brief moment where his desire to flee the vulnerability of the unknown wars with his obedience — but then if fades into submission, his body sinking pliantly back into Steve’s arms.

“Yes.”

Steve rewards him with a kiss on the top of his head.

“Need you to say exactly what I tell you to,” He says.

Eddie’s hands fist into Steve’s shirt, holding on tight. “Yes.”

Steve nods.

“Tell me that you’re good, and kind, and worthy of love.”

“Steve-“ Eddie starts, but Steve doesn’t let him object.

“Say it.”

Eddie swallows back anything else, taking a steadying breath.

“I—I’m good, and kind, and worthy of love.”

Steve rubs a hand up and down his back.

“Tell me that you’re not hard to love. That the people who love you don’t want to leave you.”

Eddie whines, burying his nose against Steve’s chest, voice muffled. “I’m not hard to love. The people who love me…”

Steve nudges him, waiting for the rest. Eddie swallows audibly.

“The people who love me don’t want to leave me.”

“There we go,” Steve coos. “Not so hard after all, huh? You did so good. My good boy.”

Eddie goes limp against him, all the tension sapping at once from his muscles.

“Think we’re gonna work on that more regularly,” Steve says, petting Eddie’s hair as he wraps an arm around his waist. “And I’m going to have to remind you just as often that I love you.”

Eddie’s arms latch around him. “Hey, Stevie?” He calls, quiet. Soft.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Steve stumbles over the surprise of it, only for a second — but then he beams, light pouring out as warmth floods through him.

“I know,” He says. “I know.”

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