#bottom eddie munson
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Dirty Words
Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson
Summary: Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
Word Count: 10.2K
Chapters: 1 of 1
Content Warning: Explicit m/m sexual content including dirty talk, masturbation, hand jobs, spit and cum as lube, allusions to anal sex, scent kink, spit kink, multiple orgasms, and oral sex. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. This post includes explicit sexual content, foul language, and sensitive themes. It is intended for those 18 and older ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.
Disclaimer: All characters in my fics engaging in sexual acts are—and always will be—18 or older, even if not explicitly stated.
DIRTY WORDS
Eddie is feeling all floaty and shit. The weed Argyle gave him really is better than the skunkweed he’s been peddling in alleyways since he was sixteen years old. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. Definitely a fact he’ll take to his grave.
But for now, Eddie has the weekend off from his new, lousy day job that Steve and (mostly) Robin managed to bag him at Family Video. To be honest, it had been a last resort. But turns out, business is shit after he fucking finally graduated high school. And now—cherry on top!—he’ll have to figure out how to file taxes and shit. Welcome to the corporate world.
With a sigh, Eddie takes another drag from the perfectly rolled joint that he made himself. Argyle can’t top him on that, at least.
Eddie giggles to himself. Top him. Shit, Argyle could top him if he really wanted to, considering how fucking pent up—
The phone rings, making Eddie jump a good six inches from the sunken couch cushion he’s lounging on. He scrambles to a sitting position, and then lifts himself onto his legs that only slightly wobble like a newborn giraffe underneath him. He runs to the yellowing, plastic phone that’s hung up on his uncle’s trailer’s wall, hoping that maybe it’s the guy Eddie’s been fooling around with on the other end of the line. Maybe he could try the whole phone sex thing. Again. And not fuck it up this time.
“Hello?”
“Eddie?” Steve asks, voice all staticky through the speakers. “Why does it sound like you just ran a marathon, dude?”
Eddie realises he’s panting. He’s not sure if it’s from the short dash to the telephone, or if it’s because his blood was rushing to his cock for a minute there instead of his lungs.
Either way, he should probably consider going for a jog once in a while or something. It’s kind of sad that he’s winded.
“Shut up, man,” he says. “Maybe I was running a marathon. You’d never know.”
“I do know. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide to exercise willingly. The sun will be rising in the West. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue when Eddie Munson runs a marathon.”
“You forgot when pigs fly.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly drops the phone that’s wedged between his ear and his shoulder. “Did you call to talk about my general lack of fitness, or is there another reason you called, Harrington?”
“I’m bored,” Steve whines. The phone line crackles. Eddie can only assume Steve is, like, laying in bed or something.
Laying in bed, in those navy blue sheets. Shirtless. Maybe fresh out of the shower. A little wet still, his hair sticking up around his head—
No. Nope.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the next image (a towel slipping away from Steve’s hips), because three months ago he made a rule for himself. No more fantasising about Steve goddamn Harrington.
It had been becoming nearly impossible to look the other man in the eye after some of the things Eddie imagined doing with him.
Steve continues on, completely unaware of Eddie’s wandering mind. “Robin is working tonight and tomorrow so she can’t hang.”
“Glad to know I’m your second choice,” Eddie teases.
“No! No, I would have called you either way.”
“Sure you would have.”
Eddie smiles to himself. He’s not actually miffed. He and Steve have become way closer than he would have ever imagined possible. It started when Robin would ask him to hang out, and then she’d invite him along with her and Steve, and then somehow he and Steve just started hanging out alone. And it wasn’t even all that awkward.
Turns out Eddie is cooler than Steve thought, and Steve is more of a loser than Eddie thought.
“Eddie,” Steve groans. And Eddie tries not to be perverted about how good it sounds. “Come on, dude. Let’s hang out.”
“Can’t, man,” Eddie says. “I’m busy.”
“What? No you’re not. It’s nine at night and you’re at home. I also know Wayne works a double, so he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
“It’s weird that you know my uncle’s schedule.”
“No it’s not; he works the same shifts every week. Point is, I know you’re alone. Unless you have other friends that I don’t know about?”
“I do have other friends!” (Not really. Just a guy Eddie’s made out with a couple times in the city, and the members of Corroded Coffin who’re away for the summer.)
“Oh.” Steve goes quiet for a moment, and Eddie feels like he won. But then, “Well, are they over right now?”
“No, but—”
“Then you’re not busy! I can bring movies. I have Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Wildcats—”
“What makes you think I want to watch a sports movie?”
“And Labyrinth.”
Eddie’s jaw clenches. Shit, he loves David Bowie, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on a copy yet. But he also knows Steve won’t just return the movie before Eddie has the chance to see it, because Steve isn’t mean like that. Not like Eddie is.
“I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Getting high and being alone!” And jerking off for the next hour and a half to see how many times he can make himself come before it becomes unbearable.
Eddie doesn’t add that last point, for obvious reasons.
“I like getting high. Please, Eddie? I’m so bored. And my house is empty and quiet, and you know how I get nightmares when—”
“Okay! Okay, oh my god, fine. You’re so whiny.” Eddie had no idea Steve was such a beggar. He kind of likes it. “But you have to bring beer as payment. Afterhours fee.”
“Yes,” Steve says, sounding like he’s doing something dorky like punching the air. “Beer it is. See you soon.”
“Hey, Harrington, can you give me, like—” half an hour, Eddie wants to say. But the line goes dead.
He wonders if he can manage to pump one out before Steve gets to the trailer. And the thing is, his dick is harder than he’d like to admit after hearing Steve’s voice. So he’s going to try.
Eddie runs to his room, pulls down his flannel pants so the elastic sits taut under his balls. He doesn’t bother laying in his bed; he just sits on the edge of it, facing his mirror, watching as he fists his own cock and gives it a few tugs. It’s not a narcissism thing, Eddie just likes the visual. Likes to imagine it’s someone else’s hand, or someone else’s cock. Likes to see the tip of it, shiny and red, as his foreskin pulls down his shaft to expose it.
He wonders if Steve is cut or not.
Fuck—no. No, no, no.
Eddie shouldn’t be thinking about Steve, he should be thinking about the guy from the bar. About how hard his dick had been, pressing into Eddie’s hip as they made out against the wall in the alleyway.
Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s doing something…
Eddie watches as his hand pumps over his cock, watches as it starts to strain, the veins popping from the skin as he builds himself up. He squeezes hard around the crown. It only gives a little under the pressure, considering how hard he is, but it makes his dick offer up a pearl of precum that he gathers and spreads around the slit. When he lifts his thumb away, a sticky string connects his hand between his legs.
He likes the way that looks. He likes when things start to get messy. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the guy from the bar’s cock like this, if he also likes to play with cum and spit.
If Steve ever plays with cum and spit when he’s on his own, like Eddie does. He wonders how Steve touches himself, what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what sounds he makes, what face he makes…
Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yeah, that’s fucking good.
Okay. Okay it’s fine, Eddie will just think about Steve one more time, and then he’ll for sure stop doing it. Just this one more time…
A jolt travels from Eddie’s cock into the tight muscles of his stomach as he imagines Steve’s face all twisted up in pleasure. Those strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s head as he sucks back little dribbles of salty white that leak out of Steve. His nose brushing against a mound of dark hair that Eddie just knows would grow thick around the base of Steve’s cock; little curls that smell like honey and almond soap, because Steve uses the expensive shit.
Jesus Christ. What he wouldn’t give to go down on Steve, just once. Just one time.
Eddie’s mouth waters as his hand flies harder, faster. He’s so fucking close. Just a quick, dirty orgasm before Steve comes over. Steve. Fuck, yes, Steve—
There’s a loud knock on Eddie’s front door.
No! Shitshitshit. He just needs two more minutes. Maybe not even that, just one—
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is muffled beyond the walls of the trailer. Eddie almost considers letting him wait outside while he finishes up, but he can hear Steve’s footsteps getting closer to his bedroom window.
A rock hits the glass and shocks Eddie enough that it sets him back. Now it would definitely take the full two minutes.
“Shit! Goddamn fucking Harrington—” Eddie stands from the mattress and releases his cock from the death grip he had on it. It bobs between his legs, so fucking stiff that there’s no way it’s going away on its own anytime soon. “One sec!”
Eddie has no choice but to tuck his cock into the waistband of his pants. The tip pokes up under his navel, like it’s staring angrily at him for not finishing the job he started. It’s throbbing, and leaking, and getting the fabric it’s tucked into all damp.
“Same,” he mumbles to his dick as he grabs a longer t-shirt and pulls it over his head.
Another rock smacks against his window.
“Coming!” Well, he was about to anyway.
He doesn’t jog to greet Steve, because he doesn’t want to risk his dick slipping from its hiding spot. That is a conversation Eddie wants to avoid.
When he opens the front door, Steve has another rock in his hand, aimed towards Eddie’s window.
“You better not throw that, Harrington.”
Steve’s head whips around. His eyes are full of mischief, a small smile on his lips. His hair is freshly washed and styled, just like Eddie suspected. And his outfit is positively sinful (if you’re horny like Eddie is). Grey sweatpants and a plain white tee, which Eddie thinks is the guy version of lingerie.
Totally unfair, especially when Eddie would just like if his dick would go soft again.
“Why did you take so long, dude? Your trailer park is scary in the dark.”
Eddie gawks at Steve. “You’ve literally fought monsters and a dark wizard in an alternate dimension, and you think my trailer park is scary?”
“Yeah.” Steve points over his shoulder to a mobile home down the lane. “There was an old dude watching me from his window.”
“Mr. Jackson?” Eddie tilts his head, sees the curtains ruffling as his neighbour draws them back. “He’s… mostly harmless. I think.”
“You think?” Steve flings up Eddie’s steps and quickly locks the door behind him.
“Totally. I mean, besides the shotgun he keeps next to his couch. But that’s reserved exclusively for handsome young men that come around the trailer park after nine PM.” Eddie checks his watch, gasps in mock fear, widens his eyes, and peers out of the window behind Steve’s head. “That means you’re not safe! I think—I think I hear him loading the gun!”
Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, just for a second, as he cranes his head to look out the window. When Eddie’s sarcasm finally sinks in, he lets go and punches him (a little too hard) where his hand had been. “You’re such a dick.”
“I think that was kind of a compliment,” Eddie says, rubbing at the place where he would surely bruise. “I did say you were handsome.”
Steve flops down on Eddie’s couch and tosses a bag full of VHS tapes and a six pack onto the ground by his feet. He leans back, like he’s making a point, flourishing his hand over the length of his body with the most disgustingly sexy lazy smile on his face. “Yeah, well, that’s common knowledge.”
Jesus.
Eddie looks down to make sure his cock is still out of sight. He can feel it pulse between his legs as he hears Steve’s voice, sees how he stretches on the sofa. But thank God, he’s still tucked away and Steve should be none the wiser.
He takes his place next to Steve—makes sure his shirt drapes loose enough around him that it hides how hard he is.
He wonders if blue balls are a real thing. Will Eddie have severe health defects if he doesn’t come? Will his boner go away on its own?
Questions that he’ll find out sooner or later, he supposes.
“Little full of yourself, are you, Harrington?”
Steve sighs. “Not at all. It’s actually hard work being this gorgeous. You would know.”
Eddie feels his cocky expression fall from his face.
Did Steve just call him gorgeous? Or did Eddie totally misinterpret his words? He blushes and figures it’s better to be safe than be sorry. “Sure,” is all he replies with.
“So,” Steve says casually, “where’s this weed I’ve been hearing so much about?”
Eddie smiles, big and sweet, and points towards his bedroom where he left the joint to fizzle out in an ashtray before he molested himself. “Be a dear and go grab it from my nightstand?”
The truth is, Eddie’s pretty sure the tip of his dick slipped from under the elastic of his pants when he sat down. Miraculously, he thinks it’s starting to deflate by the teensiest fraction, but it would still basically slap Harrington in the face if he tried to stand.
Which—good thing or bad thing? Eddie isn’t sure. That would all have to do with Steve’s reaction. But he’s not willing to find out.
Steve rolls his eyes but gets up like a good little boy to fetch the ashtray. He brings it and the lighter to the coffee table where Eddie had been smoking before.
Fifteen minutes later, Eddie is back in his floaty state with a beer between his legs instead of a hard on. Turns out, stiffies don’t actually last forever if you don’t let yourself come. It’s just very, very frustrating.
“You up for another beer?” Steve asks slowly, reaching into the bag to grab two bottles. His eyes are glazed and blown, and Eddie thinks he looks totally fucked up already. It’s hilarious.
“Yeah, I’m down.”
Steve hands Eddie a new PBR, and his eyes do this little flare thing that makes him look adorable. “Woah.”
“Woah what?” Eddie asks, popping the cap and replacing his empty bottle with the new one.
“Being up for something and being down for something mean the same thing, even though they’re the opposites. I just realised that.”
Eddie smiles against the lip of the bottle, feeling the glass clink against his teeth. “Shit, man, you’re so high.”
“Am not.” Steve honest to God giggles as he makes eye contact with Eddie. “Okay. Maybe a little.”
“I’m glad you came over, Harrington,” says Eddie after a beat. “Better than another night alone.”
Steve opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing.
Both men turn their heads to stare at the wall phone, but Eddie doesn’t make a move to stand up to actually answer.
Because, for some reason, his mind is suddenly going a million miles a minute.
He knows it’s not his uncle calling in the middle of work, and he knows it’s obviously not Steve. The chances that it’s Robin are slim to none because her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. Gareth and Jeff are away with their respective families.
So the most logical answer to who’s calling after dark, would be the guy from the bar.
And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to raise questions. Isn’t sure if he’s capable of thinking of a good enough excuse as to who it was or why he’s calling. Yeah, he could probably have at least answered and told Bar-Guy to call back tomorrow, that he has company, but his brain isn’t thinking fast enough. So he just kind of… stares at the phone as it rings.
“I’ll get it,” Steve says after a few seconds, and suddenly he’s standing from the couch and reaching for the telephone—
“No!” Eddie pounces, because that’s even worse than if Eddie just answers the damn phone himself. He flounders towards Steve, grabbing the outstretched hand, stopping it from curling around the phone. “Stop! Stop—just let it ring!”
Steve gawks at him, but holds his hands in surrender in front of his chest.
The phone rings one more time, and then the kitchenette goes quiet.
Eddie heaves a sigh of relief, even though he probably just made more questions arise than he avoided by not picking up.
“What—what was that about?”
“Nothing,” Eddie huffs, dragging his feet back to the couch.
Steve follows closely behind. Just as Eddie flops onto the cushions, Steve is on top of him, tickling the shit out of Eddie’s arms, his sides, his stomach.
Eddie was not expecting anything like this—Steve’s hands all over him, his leg slung over Eddie’s to hold him down, the smell of Steve’s breath hitting his face. It’s not a bad smell, like freshly brushed teeth and beer and weed, and it’s warm, because their faces are so close together.
All Eddie can to is half-shriek-half-laugh, even as his mind muddles with confusion (and lust. Obviously).
“Tell me!” Steve commands, digging his fingers into Eddie’s neck, down his back, dangerously close to his thighs…
The boner that he just got rid of starts to fill out once more.
“Stop, dude!” Any sense of authority is lost under Eddie’s laughter that he can’t control. “No! Stop!”
“Come on, Munson. Spill the beans.”
Eddie tries flipping onto his stomach, but Steve follows him, blanketing over his back. The panes of his chest press behind Eddie, hard and warm, crowding him against the pillows. And there’s also friction.
Friction that could easily become a problem if Steve keeps goddamn moving against Eddie, making his hips rub against the couch—
“Okay! Uncle. Uncle!”
Eddie keeps panting face-down as Steve lifts himself away from his back.
“So?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice, triumphant from his win. An unhonourable win, as far as Eddie is concerned. Tickle torture is a serious offense. “What’s up your ass?”
Eddie snorts as he sits up, casually grabbing one of the throw cushions to hold against his lap.
Nothing, he wants to say. That’s the problem.
Instead, he just kind of adverts his gaze and goes for the truth.
“I’ve—kind of—been talking to…” this guy.
It’s not like Eddie has been hiding his sexuality from Steve, per se, but other dudes are way less accepting than girls about it. His first official ‘coming out’ had been to Robin (an obvious choice after she told him she’s a lesbian), and then to Nancy.
Apparently, Steve had been really cool when Robin told him she likes girls. But this is a different situation. Steve might be afraid that Eddie will, like, come on to him or something. Which… fair enough. Eddie probably would.
So, instead of finishing with the whole truth, he dampens it down a bit, and says, “Someone.”
“Oh. Shit.” Steve’s eyes do this thing where they drop to the floor, and then shoot sideways to Eddie, his eyebrows crumpled like a cartoon above his nose. He grabs the blunt, takes a deep drag. “That’s good though, right?”
Eddie shrugs. “Sure.”
“Sweet. So what’s the issue?”
All of it. Everything.
Because said guy lives all the way in Indianapolis—two hours away—and the only chance they have to communicate is through phone. Which, by proxy, means that the only times they can actually meet up is after a phone conversation.
Not to mention the fact that they aren’t, like, official—that they just made out a few times. Once outside of the bar, and a couple times in the back of Eddie’s van, which left him achingly hard when they parted ways.
This circles back to point number one about the phone conversations. They’re awkward. They don’t know each other well, don’t know what to talk about. Things don’t just flow naturally. Not like they do with—oh, say—Steve.
Maybe the worst part is that Eddie is a twenty-one-year-old man with raging hormones that—as much as he wishes otherwise—he cannot control. His self-discipline is basically nil. Nada. Zero. He’s fucking horny all the time.
So how is he supposed to deal with long-distance plus rare phone calls?!
Bingo. Yep. Phone sex. It’s the obvious answer, is it not?
So Eddie, like, tried.
And he thought it started well!
What are you wearing? Is that not fucking obvious where Eddie was headed? Is that not the exact line that they use in movies and shit? That’s what he said—What are you wearing?—and then he shoved his hand down his pants and waited for Bar-Guy to get into it, start saying something filthy into the speaker that would get Eddie going.
Maybe like… ‘Nothing at all,’ or, ‘tight boxers that show off my cock,’ or—fuck—'a towel slung low on my hips’. Something like that!
But all Eddie got was, “Uh—sweatshirt. Jeans. Why are you breathing hard?”
And then Eddie had said, “Just thinking about you,” with his low and gravelly voice, to help keep the conversation moving (again, he thinks this is pretty obvious and, like, at least a bit sexy).
Here’s the real kicker. The dude then said, “Are you… touching yourself?”
And it was not a sexy question. He sounded completely weirded out! Horrified! Disgusted!
So Eddie pulled his hand out of his pants and basically yelled, “No!”
Deny deny deny. Eddie is good at that shit.
The conversation had gone on to other things. Dinner plans, or something. Eddie didn’t really care. All he could think about was that this guy probably didn’t want to fuck him. They’d had the opportunity before, and it never progressed. And the thought of Eddie even fisting his own cock all but repulsed him.
Such a damn shame. Because Eddie is so desperate, so pent up, so sick of fucking his own hand, that he’s literally about to drill a hole in one of Uncle Wayne’s oranges and go to town until there’s nothing left but pulp.
Eddie doesn’t tell Steve any of this. He just groans really loud and buries his face in his hands, and says, “I don’t know!”
“C’mon, man. Something’s up. Out with it.” Steve waves his hand in encouragement, vaguely gesturing to the empty trailer and himself. “Safe space.”
Eddie peeks through his fingers at Steve, and he just looks so… genuinely curious. Like he actually wants to help, or at least hear, Eddie’s problems.
“Okay, fine.” Eddie snatches the joint from between Steve’s fingers and sucks it back like it’s water, keeping his gaze from Steve’s (beautiful) hazel eyes. “It’s just that I… I kind of made it awkward. Last time we talked on the phone. I tried to initiate… uh”—he clears his throat—“phone sex.”
Steve’s eyes go wide, his forehead crinkling with surprise. His lips are shiny and pink. But that second part doesn’t have anything to do with Steve’s expression—Eddie just happened to notice them.
“Fuck,” Steve says, leaning forward to set his bottle on the table in front of them. “Yeah. I’ve been there before, man. What happened?”
“What do you mean, what happened?”
“I don’t know. What did you say? I assume it didn’t go well considering how you’re all… tense and shit.”
“Tense and shit.” Eddie laughs once, then mumbles, “You have no idea.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Steve encourages.
“It’s not! I started with the classic, what are you wearing?” Eddie drops an octave, making fun of his attempt to sound hot. “And then I got an actual play by play of what they were wearing.”
Steve sits back and thinks about it for a minute—his legs splayed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I think the issue with that is… it’s obvious, but it’s not sexy.”
“How is it not sexy, dude?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “It’s literally a steppingstone into, like, a form of sex!”
“Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t get you hot. You know?”
“No, Steve, I don’t know. Because I’m always hot. Someone could bend to tie their shoes and I’d fucking cream my pants.”
Steve hiccups a startled laugh. “Fuck. Me too. It’s been forever.”
“I don’t think it’s natural for a guy to go this long, man.” Eddie swigs back the rest of his beer and cracks a third. Lights up a new joint, too. And honestly, regardless of his tolerance, he’s pretty fucked up.
“Do you know how many chicks I’ve gone out with? None of my dates have even led to hands stuff. It at least sounds like you’re close to sealing he deal.” Steve lolls his head towards Eddie with a cheeky little smile on his lips. “I mean, if you didn’t suck at talking dirty.”
“I do not suck!” Eddie cries, grabbing the throw cushion from his lap to smack it against Steve’s smug face.
Steve catches the pillow and rips it playfully away from Eddie’s grip. “Then show me.”
Eddie stares at Steve for way too long. He narrows his eyes after a few seconds. “You’re kidding me.”
“Not kidding. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing wrong.” Steve leans forward, plucks the joint right out of Eddie’s slack lips. “Just pretend I’m on the other end of the line.”
“No way, dude.”
Steve curls his hand up to look like a telephone, pretends to dial in a number. Brings it up to his ear. “Riiiinngg. Riiiinngg. C’mon, Eds, you’re getting a sexy phone call. Pick up. Riiinngg.”
Eddie feels his face flush red. He’s not sure if it’s from where this conversation is headed, or out of sheer embarrassment for Steve’s sake. “Holy fuck. You’re such a loser, Harrington.”
“I’ll just pretend you already answered and said hello. Hey, Eds. It’s… wait, what’s this guy’s name?”
Eddie opens his mouth. Then closes it again, because Steve just said guy. Not girl. Guy. Is this a slip of the tongue? Or did Buckley out Eddie to Steve? Or Nancy?
No, neither of them would do that. Maybe Steve just figured it out from context clues.
But still, to be sure, Eddie just says, “What?”
“What’s his name?” Steve askes again.
So—shit—it definitely wasn’t a slip of the tongue. But Steve isn’t freaking out. Hasn’t freaked out in the past. And he’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but not judgy or anything.
Eddie clears his throat. “Nick.”
“Nick! Strong name. Not as strong as Steve, but not everyone can be a Steve—”
“Come on, man!” Eddie groans. Again. Hides his face. Again.
“Okay, Okay!” Steve clears his throat. “Hey, Eds, it’s Nick. What’re you up to?”
Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it forcefully out of pursed lips. “Uhh—hey, Nick… I’m…”—his eyes flick sideways to catch Steve staring at him with a half-smile on his face—“no. Nope! I can’t do this.”
Eddie goes to stand from his perch on the couch, but Steve’s arm shoots out to grab him. “Alright. Let’s just do it, you and me. No phone roleplaying required. Just start with saying a compliment you’d tell Nick or something.”
“Alright… Okay… Uh, you’re—I mean Nick—is really funny?” Eddie says. Nick isn’t all that funny but, fuck, it’s all Eddie can think of. Steve is funny, though, so it’s easy enough to say.
“Yeah, good. That’s good. What else?”
“And you’re really hot. Really fucking hot.”
“Good.” Steve shifts around on the couch, maybe trying to get more comfortable. “And then Nick would say something like, You’re really hot, too.”
Eddie stifles a giggle. “I really don’t think he would.”
“Well, just pretend he does. And then it’s your turn to keep the conversation heading in the direction you want it to.”
“By saying what, Harrington?”
“Try saying how I—Nick—makes you feel.”
“Okay. You make me feel… like I’m vibrating. Like I’m pressurized, or something.”
“Yeah?” Steve breathes, his voice dropping an octave. Probably just getting more into character. “What does that make you do, when you feel like that?”
“It makes me… makes me hard.” Eddie feels his hips pitching forward. His cock twitches under his flannel pants.
A dangerous game they’re playing. Maybe Steve doesn’t know just how serious Eddie was when he said he’s pent up.
“Fuck,” Steve says lowly.
“Too much?”
“No! Nah, it’s good. It’s hot. I mean, sometimes it’ll take longer to build into that kind of stuff, but keep going.”
Eddie nods nervously. “Okay. Uh, what do I say now?”
Steve sits up a bit to adjust the band of his sweats. “Sorry. So, you said it makes you hard. And then I’d say… me too. That it makes me hard just talking about it. Just thinking about it.”
Eddie’s dick is starting to properly fill out again. It makes sense since he never got to come after taking himself right to the edge before Steve came over.
He takes a steadying breath to try to will it away. “Shit. Okay.”
“Do you like that?” Steve asks. “Do you like thinking about how hard my cock gets when I think about you?”
“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.
Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.
He can’t help but blurt out, “I want to suck your cock.”
Because it’s true. Eddie’s mouth is watering just from the thought of it. But as soon as the words push past his lips, he realises that it’s not exactly fitting in the theme of phone sex. So he quickly adds, “If we were together right now. Instead of—uh—just on the phone.”
“Fuck, yeah. You’d suck my cock so good.” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie swears his eyes trail over his body, landing between his legs and then back up to his mouth. “I’d fuck your throat so deeply you’d gag and drool all over yourself.”
Eddie can’t help himself from groaning at that image. And as if his body is proving to Steve just how right he is, a trickle of saliva escapes the corner of his lips before he’s able to swallow it back.
He lifts his hand to wipe the back of it against his mouth. “Jesus, Steve.”
Steve shifts closer to Eddie. His voice is low and soft and seductive, and Eddie is having a very hard time remembering that this is a game as he says, “And then I’d ask if you’re touching yourself.”
The words echo those of Nick’s. But when Steve says them, he doesn’t sound horrified at the thought. He sounds like he wants Eddie to be fucking his hand while they talk. Like the thought turns him on almost as much as it does Eddie.
“I would be, by now,” Eddie confesses, wiping his sweaty palms against his knees. He desperately wants to trail them higher, wants to rub between his legs where he’s throbbing and hot. His pants feel like a sauna. They’re humid and sticky, and he knows it’s partly because he’s radiating heat, but also because his cock is already starting to dribble.
“I would be, too,” Steve says. “I mean, Nick would be, too. If I was Nick. And I’d—I’d ask how you were touching yourself. What it felt like.”
Eddie glances between Steve’s legs again. And—holy shit—Steve is hard. As hard as Eddie.
His cock is fucking massive, as far as Eddie can tell. Thick, and long, sitting sideways inside his pants against his hip. Eddie knows it would stand proud by Steve’s belly button if it wasn’t trapped.
And he’s also pretty sure Steve is circumcised by the obvious ridge he can see under the fabric.
Maybe it’s dumb, or false hope, or just how ridiculously horny he is (again), but Eddie is feeling encouraged. Because he’s not the only one who’s getting hot. He’s not the only one who’s participating, or the only one who’s bricked up.
So… why not get into it a bit more?
“I’d say that I have my hand wrapped around my cock. That it feels heavy in my hand. And wet. That I’m leaking all over myself.” Eddie’s hips pitch forward on their own accord, the sensitive tip of his dick deliciously grazing against the flannel of his pants. “And I’d tell you that it feels good. Really fucking good. But it would feel better if it was your hand instead.”
Steve is the first one to break.
Eddie can tell it’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for his cock and squeezes where it’s straining under his sweats. Awareness shimmers in Steve’s eyes, and he quickly pulls his hand away again. “Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s all good,” Eddie says fast as a whip, repeating Steve’s words from earlier. “Just means we’re doing good, right?”
“Yeah.” Steve’s laugh is small and breathy. “Really good.”
Eddie swallows his nerves, decides to see if he can keep whatever this is going. “What would you say after that?”
It seems it’s Steve’s turn to be flustered. Eddie can see red creeping up his neck, like his chest is flushed. It reaches his cheeks and makes him look all bright and pink. “I’d tell you what I’d be doing.”
“Which would be?”
“I’d be reaching under my pants, and I’d circle my fingers around my dick. Gently at first, because—because I’m sensitive down there. And I want to make it last.” Eddie watches as Steve’s hands lift back to his lap. And then pinch the hem of his shirt. A strip of his sun-kissed stomach flashes as his fingers tease against the drawstring of his pants. “Like this.”
Steve’s hand disappears as it pushes down into his sweats. It moves along the length of his cock. He adjusts so it’s no longer sitting sideways; it’s now straight up, as big as Eddie assumed, dangerously close from peeking past the waistband.
Eddie would not be upset if it did.
The best part is when Steve’s hand starts moving under the fabric. Long, soft strokes that Eddie can tell are featherlight, mostly just fingertips teasing against his skin. Just enough to make Steve bite down on his lip and his breath hitch in his throat.
“Steve—fuck.” Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he watches Steve touch himself. And he has a few fleeting thoughts.
First is the classic, Am I dreaming? Because surely Steve Harrington is not jerking himself off in Eddie’s living room on a Friday night while they say filthy things to each other under the guise of another dude.
Impossible.
The second comes after Eddie subtly pinches himself and doesn’t wake up. Which is, Is this a joke? Because now that he knows he’s (probably) not asleep, there must be some other horrible explanation for what’s happening. He racks his brain, plays back the events that led him here.
Eddie doesn’t think he could misinterpret everything. But he’s probably done dumber things in his life.
Plausible.
And the third—which is the thought that’s taking up the majority of his consciousness—is, Am I allowed to touch myself, too?
He doesn’t let himself consider this one too long. Because there’s no way in Hell that Eddie would be able to stop himself. Not if a gun was pointed to his head.
So he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and squeezes his cock way more aggressively than Steve.
It’s both not enough and instant satisfaction. Like when you start scratching an itch and it seems to get itchier as your nails dig into your skin, but at the same time it’s doing exactly what you need to soothe the discomfort.
Eddie’s lips part as he grabs his balls and gives them a taut squeeze. His dick basically weeps against his skin. So much precum is pushing from his slit that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any left when he actually comes. Fuck, he hopes this time he can actually come.
His heart is beating so goddamn fast in his chest that there’s a good chance if he stops for a second time this evening, it will give out. He really, really will die.
“Does it feel good?” Steve practically purrs the question.
Eddie nods fervently, but he’s not able to form words. He doesn’t know where to look; Steve’s blown eyes that seem more black than hazel, his hand that’s speeding up under his sweats, the damp patch that’s forming where his cock must be leaking nearly as much as Eddie’s if it has already soaked through the fabric, or the growing expanse of abs on show—flexing in tandem with Steve’s strokes—as his free hand continues to lift the hem of his shirt.
Fuck, Eddie wants to come. Right now. He wants to come right fucking now.
He squeezes the base of his cock, bordering on the verge of pain, to stop his orgasm in its tracks. “So good, Stevie.”
Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion, his eyes flicking between Eddie’s legs, his mouth, back down again… back up. He’s pumping himself with more intent now, his wrist twisting with each upwards stroke. “I wish it was your lips on me. I just know how good they’d feel. You have perfect dick-sucking lips.”
Eddie attempts stroking his cock again. It zaps into the coil in the pit of his stomach, but if he goes slow he’s sure he can go at least thirty second before he’s on the edge again.
“You have no idea, Steve,” he says, his tongue wetting his lips like he just might fall to his knees and start sucking Steve off for real. “I’d keep them nice and soft like you said you like. The inside of my mouth would be so wet—fuck, I’m salivating just thinking about it. And then I’d seal them around your big cock and hallow my cheeks when you least expect it, and you’d fucking thrust into my throat in surprise—”
Eddie moans, dropping his grip on himself yet again. That time it was really close; he can feel his dick pulsing under his pants. If he were alone, he’d push them down and watch as his cock twitched against his abdomen, angry at the loss of his fingers at the last possible moment.
Across from him, Steve speeds up; his hand moving in quick, short bursts against his tip. He makes his own noise, his eyes rolling back into his skull and then closing altogether.
It takes everything inside Eddie not to grab himself and come inside his pants right then and there. Shit, Steve looks so fucking good. Eddie desperately wants to see more. The colour of Steve’s dick, the way it strains, if it’s curved or straight, if it’s shiny. He wants to see it leak, wants to see Steve’s fingers catch the pearls of precum that are soaking through his pants and rub them into his skin. Wants to see it web between his fingertips—sticky and white. Wants to suck it off of them.
Shit. Fuck. It’s a miracle Eddie isn’t coming untouched. He’s still right there, on the verge of his orgasm. One single, insignificant, breath of a touch would one hundred percent set him off.
Steve’s eyes open. He drops his own dick, wipes his palm against his t-shirt. And he scootches closer to Eddie.
Just the brush of Steve’s thigh against Eddie’s makes him tremble, makes Eddie feel like he’s going to lose any semblance of control that remains.
They’re pressed right against each other. The length of Steve’s leg is warm and strong against Eddie’s, bigger than his. Thicker. Just like the rest of him.
Steve spits in his hand. Eddie watches as it pools in his cupped palm, watches as Steve brings that hand back down to the front of his pants. He stretches the waistband away from his body, and for a split second, Eddie catches a glimpse of his cock. Just the crown, broad and pink like Steve’s lips, right before the elastic snaps back and covers him again.
Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, Eddie Munson.
“And then,” Steve says, adding fuel to the fire, “I’m gonna bend you over the arm of this couch. You’ll look so hot, with your back arched and your ass on full display.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Fuck it. Eddie sticks his hand back down his pants, but barely touches himself. Just draws a line up the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He can feel his heartbeat under the pad of his finger.
“I’ll push into you so slowly. You’ll feel so full with my dick in your tight little asshole. And you’ll make those sexy little noises the whole time.”
Eddie makes one of them right as Steve says that—a low, quiet rumble from the back of his throat.
“Yeah, just like that. And then… then I’ll start fucking you. It’ll feel so good, Eddie.” Steve fucks his fist harder, his hips lifting from the couch like he’s chasing his own touch. His hand sounds wet on his cock, slapping and squelching each time it smacks against the base. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you start crying. That you start screaming. Your scary neighbours will know how good I’m fucking you from the noises they hear coming out of your trailer.”
Eddie wonders if he lets himself come if it’ll be the end of whatever is happening. He knows for a stone-cold fact that he’ll be able to stay hard after the first time. But Steve doesn’t know that. Not yet. Maybe he should tell him.
But for now, Eddie tries to regain some control, some semblance of his quippy, cocky personality, just so he doesn’t come off entirely as a whimpering fool (if it’s not already too late). He tries to smirk. “Bold of you to assume I’m a bottom, Harrington.”
“A bottom?” Steve asks, and Eddie realises that maybe it’s a term that he’s never heard before. Because he’s straight… (question mark?). Again, Steve uses context clues. Smart guy. He presses impossibly closer into Eddie’s side, and asks, “Are you telling me you don’t want to feel my cock inside of you? Don’t want my cum dripping from your asshole for hours after we fuck?”
Eddie’s whole body vibrates. That’s it. The end. He fists his cock and pumps it hard, pulling his foreskin forward enough to cover the head, back to expose it, all underneath the checkered fabric of his pants. “I’m gonna come, Steve. I’m coming.”
His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he lets himself tumble from the ledge. Cum surges from his cock hard enough that he knows it would have painted his entire chest if it wasn’t contained inside of his pants. Each wave of his climax makes him whine aloud. It sounds crude, mixed with the slick slap of his hand against his skin.
“Shit,” Steve mumbles, staring as Eddie’s working fist, eyes blown wide like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
And maybe it shouldn’t, but Eddie’s left hand reaches out with a mind of its own, gripping high on Steve’s thigh. Squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise, while his right is covered with hot, slick cum.
“Don’t stop,” Eddie babbles, riding out his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Keep going. Keep talking. Don’t stop. I’m not finished yet, I wanna come again. Please. Please.”
“Oh, fuck, Eddie.” Steve brings his own hand down atop where Eddie’s is still sunk into the flesh of his upper leg. For a moment, he thinks Steve is going to pry his fingers away, but instead he laces them with his own.
It’s such a simple thing, holding hands, but it feels intimate. Intentional. Like this isn’t just some game.
Eddie shouldn’t be thinking that. But he is. He is. And it’s the moment he consciously knows he’ll be ruined for anyone else. End game for Eddie Munson. Steve held his hand while they jerked off. He’s in love.
Steve yanks him from his internal monologue. “You can come twice in a row?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, his hand still squeezing between his legs. Each stroke sends a bolt of lightening through his entire body, but his dick barely softens in his hand before it stiffens back up to steel once more. “Usually more than that. Four times if I want, but—but not as much cum comes out as the first.”
“Oh my God,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I… Can I see?”
His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s crotch.
“Sure.” Eddie pretends he’s confident as he tugs down his pants, lifting his hips enough to push the fabric under them.
His cock springs free from where it was trapped.
He doesn’t want to be self-conscious of his body, but he can’t help but wonder what Steve sees. If he’s at all disappointed that Eddie’s dick isn’t as big as his. It he thinks it’s weird that he’s uncut or that his dick curves upwards. If he let his pubes grow too long.
But Steve’s eyes go heavy with desire, taking in every inch of Eddie. The way his entire dick is shiny and sticky with his own cum, how it gets stuck in the hair that grows below it. His fingers squeeze around Eddie’s, involuntarily or in encouragement, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel better.
Eddie is about to ask if Steve would show him more, too.
Steve beats him to it. “Do you want me to—?”
“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”
Steve brings the hem of his shirt to his chin, catching it between his teeth. His whole chest is on display, his olive abs flexing as he pulls down the front of his sweats, tucking the elastic waist under his balls. His hand circles his cock, so thick his fingers barely meet.
And now they’re both just… bare. Basically naked as they jerk off next to each other, hands still intertwined like they’re some sort of couple. Things go quiet for a few moments as they just watch each other. How their hands work against themselves, speeding up, slowing, twitching.
Eddie’s cum gets sticky on his hand, against his cock. When he pulls his fingers away from his body it feels a bit like glue, tacking his hand up so much that it’s hard to slide it over his length.
“Spit on it,” Steve whispers, like he knows exactly what Eddie is thinking.
Eddie nods, bringing his hand up to his mouth—
“Wait.” Steve unlaces his fingers from Eddie’s, grabs his wrist. “Can I?”
“Shit.” Eddie huffs a breath through his nose. “Sure, Harrington.”
Steve lets a long string of saliva fall from his pretty, pink lips. It wets Eddie’s palm, mixing with the cum that covers it, making it slippery instead of sticky. Instead of letting go, though, Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to his own lap.
“Wanna switch?”
And—holy fucking fuck. Eddie trembles with ill-contained delight. He doesn’t even reply, just wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock before he can even think about what’s happening. What it means. That it’s changing the dynamic—they’re getting involved with each other instead of just themselves.
It doesn’t even matter. Not right now.
Steve’s head falls back against the cushions. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”
Eddie slides his fingers up Steve’s shaft—so heavy and hot in his hand—just as Steve described he liked. Soft and gentle. He twists his wrist in the same way Steve touched himself, watches as his lips part and his brows crinkle together, marvels at the vision of Steve’s cockhead surging from his grip, so flushed against the paleness of his hand and the silver of his rings.
He squeezes a bit harder and watches Steve’s hips rut towards him.
“You look so good,” he tells Steve, voice getting lost behind the moans that Steve keeps loosing from his lungs.
“Eddie?” Steve pants, thighs twitching as Eddie dares to circle his thumb around Steve’s slit, gathering more wetness to join the rest.
“Hmm?”
“Were you serious earlier?” Steve asks, barely a whisper. “About wanting to suck me off?”
Eddie’s hand stills on Steve, his eyes shining wide with shock and want. “Yeah? I mean—yeah. Very serious.”
“…Would you?”
Steve doesn’t have to say anything else. Eddie is already sliding onto the floor, already grabbing Steve’s knees and spreading them apart so he can slot himself between them. As soon as he’s bracketed by those strong thighs, they clamp down against his waist. A powerhouse of muscle, locking him to where he kneels.
Eddie is slightly intimidated by Steve’s cock. Will he have to unhinge his jaw like some sort of python to fit it in his mouth?
He leans down and kitten licks the tip, testing how it might feel on his tongue. Steve’s body jolts from that alone, makes a little whimpering noise that makes Eddie’s dick dribble onto the carpet.
“That’s it,” Steve encourages as Eddie’s lips close around the crown of his cock. “That’s perfect. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all I think about.”
Eddie moans, opens his jaw wider, and then sinks forward. Steve’s cock glides against Eddie’s tongue. It tastes like hot, sweaty skin. And cum—whether it’s Eddie’s from his hand, or Steve’s pre, it’s salty and heady and makes Eddie’s mouth even more wet as he salivates.
“Fuuuuck.” Steve’s fingers bury themselves in Eddie’s curls, tugging him closer.
It’s different than his fantasies. Steve doesn’t smell like honey and almond soap, and Eddie’s nose most definitely cannot reach Steve’s pubes, even as the tip of his dick brushes against the back of his throat. But the dark curls at the base are exactly as Eddie pictured. Perfectly trimmed and up-kept, as nicely as the hair on Steve’s head.
Eddie can’t help but pull off Steve to trail his tongue all the way down his shaft. He noses along Steve’s inner thigh, shamelessly burying his face in that thick thatch of chestnut hair. And then he deeply inhales the musky scent of Steve.
Steve groans, shallowly thrusting against Eddie’s cheek, the tip of his cock grazing Eddie’s ear, getting lost in his mane of hair.
A rope of drool connects Steve to Eddie, his tongue lolling from his mouth to rub against the side of Steve’s balls as he drinks in his smell. He dips his chin lower, until Steve’s dick is standing straight up, resting against his forehead.
The noise Steve makes is fucking sinful—completely wanton—as Eddie shoves his nose into Steve’s balls and breathes him in, committing everything to memory. His scent, his taste, his sounds, his face—everything.
Eddie isn’t sure if this will happen ever again. Isn’t sure if it’ll even be acknowledged. So he’s going to enjoy every goddamn minute while he’s so up close and personal with Steve’s cock.
“Ah—Jesus Christ. You are a freak, Munson.” Normally, those words might hurt. But Steve says them with such lust that it can’t possible be construed as anything but a compliment. Eddie wraps his hand back around Steve’s cock and starts pumping him with purpose, sucking his balls into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. The wet, slurping sounds are totally lewd in the quiet air of the trailer. “Shit. Ohhh—shit. I’m close. I’m about to come.”
Eddie hums in encouragement, keeps his lips sealed around Steve’s balls. His hand flies above his face until he can feel how tight Steve’s balls get, can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.
He pops off, rests Steve’s cockhead onto his tongue, and jerks him off fast and dirty.
“Eddie—Eddie!” Steve’s thighs tense around Eddie’s middle. Cum surges from his slit into the back of Eddie’s throat in thick rivers, coating his tongue and teeth in sticky white release that he happily swallows down.
Fuck, Steve tastes good. Feels good. Sounds even better as he comes with Eddie’s name falling from his lips. Eddie closes his eyes and revels in the moment, lets himself savour the twitch of Steve’s dick as it empties into his mouth, the intrusion as he thrusts into Eddie’s throat, and the threat of himself gagging against it. He keeps swirling his tongue, even as Steve’s cum stops spurting. Even as his noises become high, and his body starts seizing with each flick against his sensitive tip.
Eddie desperately wants to make the moment last forever, doesn’t want to acknowledge that Steve is basically crying from overstimulation above him.
Finally, the fingers in Eddie’s hair tug him away. He whines at the sudden emptiness, wants to lean back in and feel Steve’s cock soften completely inside of his mouth.
Steve’s eyes are still blown and lustful, and strangely soft, as he says, “That was so fucking good.”
He smiles and gives Steve’s knees a squeeze as he leans back, his own shaking under his weight as he hauls himself back up onto the couch. He feels a little weird now that Steve came, because Eddie is still hard. Still wanting. But he also came once himself. Not from Steve’s hands but from his words, and it was enough. Maybe he should just tuck himself away and let this thing end naturally—
Before he can make a decision, Steve is reaching towards Eddie’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asks as he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock.
Eddie lets his gaze fall between his legs. His dick gets swallowed up by Steve’s big hands. He likes the way it looks so red as it peeks out from his fist.
“Is that a real question?” Eddie’s hands flounder in the air before they land on the couch cushions and bury themselves there, his nails digging into the upholstery as Steve starts fucking him with his hand.
“I knew you’d be good,” Steve says lowly. “Knew your hands and your lips would feel incredible. I can’t believe how hard you made me come. I wanna make you come like that.”
Eddie’s jaw swings open and his eyebrows knit together, and he thinks to himself that it’s not going to take long at all for Steve to get what he wants.
Steve leans forward, and for a second Eddie thinks he’s going to put his mouth on him, but he just lets a string of spit fall onto the tip of Eddie’s cock and gathers it with his hand, spreading it along his skin that moves in tandem with his strokes. It’s almost as good.
“Oh, Jesus—Steve.” Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve’s fingers tighten, forcing a bead of precum from his slit. “I’m gonna come again. Keep doing that. Keep—keep doing that!”
Steve nods, watching as he works Eddie back to the edge. Watching as he expertly rubs his thumb against the spot that makes Eddie see stars.
His second orgasm is stronger than his first. Eddie’s vision blurs out of focus—probably because his eyes are crossing—and the noise he makes sounds like an animal getting fucking murdered. The muscles in his torso tighten and tense and shudder as Steve enthusiastically jerks his dick, cum gathering in his fist, eyes watching with rapt attention.
Eddie’s body goes limp as Steve slowly lets go of him. When he’s able to focus his eyes, he notices that Steve is looking at his hand in fascination, watching Eddie’s cum stretch between his fingers as he scissors them.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that,” he says, bringing his wet hand up to his face. Steve smells his fingers, and then decides to bring them to his spit-slicked lips. One of his fingers pop into his mouth, and he hums around it, as if he’s actually enjoying the taste of Eddie’s release.
Yep. Eddie could definitely, without a doubt, go a third round.
But before his dick does something stupid like get stiff again, he tucks himself away. “And? What did you think?”
Steve pulls his finger from his mouth, grabbing an old napkin from the coffee table to wipe the rest of Eddie’s spend from them. “I think I was wrong.”
Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, waiting for Steve to start berating him or something for making him do something gay. Even though he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the one who initiated it.
But Steve just smiles and cocks his head to one side. “You definitely aren’t bad at dirty talk.”
A sigh of relief heaves from Eddie’s chest. He smacks Steve’s shoulder, but he smiles right along. “You’re a prick.”
As he stands to grab a towel from the bathroom, Steve calls behind him, “You seemed to like my prick.”
Eddie blushes ferociously. He catches his expression in the mirror and tries to wipe it away, but it’s impossible. He’s just bound to look like a totally fucked-out dipshit for the rest of his life, he guesses. As soon as the water runs warm, Eddie washes his hands and wets two towels. He cleans off his dick and his sticky thighs, and brings the second one to the gorgeous man who’s back to lounging on his living room couch.
“Did you?” Steve asks, taking the towel to better clean his fingers. When he shoves it down the front of his pants, Eddie adverts his eyes.
“Did I what?”
“Enjoy it?”
“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “Yes, Steve, I enjoyed it. Fuck.”
“Good.”
Eddie sits next to Steve and tries not to let himself feel awkward. “Yeah. Good.”
“Want to watch Labyrinth now?” Steve casually digs into the bag he brought, grabs the VHS and wiggles it in front of Eddie’s face.
“Absolutely,” says Eddie.
They pop in the tape, and the TV screen glows blue before it starts playing through the ads. Steve sits next to Eddie, their thighs pressed up against each other, just like they had been before.
Steve reaches over and laces his fingers with Eddie’s. They stay like that for the whole movie.
_____
It’s been three days since Steve left. Since Eddie has even heard from him. Keith makes sure they don’t have many shifts together at Family Video (because they never got any work done), so it’s not uncommon that they go this long. But Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel like it’s the end of the fucking world.
God forbid he reach out to Steve himself.
But by the end of the third night, he gets a phone call.
“Hello?” he answers.
“Hey, man.” Steve is on the other line, sounding chipper and unphased.
Maybe Eddie was overthinking it.
“Oh, hey!” he says, a little bit too enthusiastically. He dials it back a bit, clears his throat. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Just got off work. I have the afternoon off.”
“Sweet.” Eddie nervously twirls the chords between his fingers. Time to be brave. “Do you—maybe—want to hang out then?”
“Yeah. That’s why I called, actually. I stole Psycho III from Family Video. Want me to bring it over?”
Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. Things aren’t changing. Steve won’t estrange himself after what happened, because he’s a good person. Eddie doesn’t even know why he was worried in the first place.
“Sounds perfect.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, cool.”
A few ticks go by, and then Steve quietly asks, “Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m just wondering…”
Eddie waits, the suspense nearly killing him. “Wondering what, Steve?”
“…What are you wearing?”
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#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#bisexual steve harrington#gay eddie munson#top steve harrington#bottom eddie munson#steddie fanfiction#steddie smut#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#steddie thots#steddie blurb#dirty talk#steve harrington fanfic#eddie munson smut#steve harrington smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#steve stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steddie fandom#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie nation#steddie brainrot#steddie stranger things
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“Spit in my mouth,” Eddie says. They can’t kiss but maybe he can still taste.
“What?” Steve looks truly bewildered. “Spit in your—“
“Please?” Eddie says, too deep now to recover. “If it’s too freaky then, like—“
“No,” Steve considers, looks him up and down. “’S not freaky, you little weirdo. Freaky was you suckin’ on my underwear. This is just plain gross.”
Eddie’s cheeks burn a bright shade of red. He can see the flush on his nose, even, and then he stops looking there because Steve laughs at how his eyes have gone crossed.
“Forget it,” Eddie says, feeling a bit sick with how nicely shame wraps around him, heavy like a downy blanket. “Was a dumb idea.”
“I didn’t say that,” Steve’s fingers pinch, two sticky ones and a thumb, tugging at the skin of his nipple. They pinch and they pull, hard, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in a yelp, dick twitching against the meat of Steve’s ass and that’s when Steve, beautiful, clever Steve, takes his opportunity.
He spits.
from chapter 5 of my fic, blinking red light. click for subby eddie and angsty, sexy videotapes❤️
#brl#blinking red light#sub eddie munson#st#cuips writes#steddie#bottom eddie munson#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#dom steve harrington#top steve harrington#soft dom steve harrington
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i wanna be your slave
for @subeddieweek day six with the prompt public sex
rated e | 1,596 words | please check ao3 for tags
Day one: ao3 | tumblr
Day two: ao3 | tumblr
Day three: ao3 | tumblr
Day four: ao3 | tumblr
Day five: ao3 | tumblr
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
Eddie should have taken the opportunity to run back inside and use the phone that he knew was sitting in the office backstage to call someone before the rain started coming down harder. He should have risked getting stuck inside the heated building instead of getting stuck inside his van that wouldn’t start in the middle of winter.
Rain storms shouldn’t even happen in December. Shouldn’t it all be snow or something?
He groaned and banged his head against the wheel.
The rain continued to pour down, louder and faster, to the point where Eddie could barely even hear himself think.
At least Steve would probably come check here when he realized he wasn’t at the trailer.
He just had to make it through the next 30 minutes or so. The rain might even stop by then.
Eddie hummed to himself, any song he could think of, even one of Corroded Coffin’s newest attempts at an original song. He played with his hair, braiding and unbraiding the same strands over and over to keep his hands busy.
He checked his watch more frequently than was helpful.
Eventually, headlights flashed in his side mirror and he heard the low rumble of another car.
He checked to see that it was Steve before unlocking the door and jumping out.
Steve barely had his car in park before he jumped out of, leaving the car running as he rushed over to pull Eddie against him.
“Shit, baby, I was so worried. What happened?”
For some reason, Eddie felt tears pooling in his eyes.
It was just an issue with the van, and probably a pretty easy repair for Wayne to do tomorrow. It’s not like he got stranded alone for hours getting soaked in the rain. It’s not like Steve forgot about him.
“Oh, baby boy.” Steve’s hands cupped his cheeks and Eddie couldn’t really tell if he had actually started crying or if the rain was falling down his face. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“It won’t start,” Eddie shivered. It may have been a bit warmer than usual for December this week, but it was still barely 40 degrees, and with the ice cold rain falling on them, Eddie knew he’d get sick if he stayed out in it for much longer.
“C’mon, I have the heat on in my car. Let’s get you warm.”
Steve gently guided him into the backseat, surprising him by joining him instead of getting in the driver’s seat to take them home.
“Jacket and shirt off, c’mon,” Steve nudged his jacket off his shoulders and Eddie sniffed as he followed his instructions. “If you take everything off, you’ll get warmer faster.”
“You just want me naked in the backseat of your car, Harrington,” Eddie grumbled, but knew he was right. He managed to get his soaking wet jeans off and left everything in a pile on the floorboards. “Now what?”
Steve reached under his own body and pulled out a towel, unfolding it and gesturing for Eddie to move for a minute so he could lay it out across the seat.
“Were you a Boy Scout or something?” Eddie felt the warmth slowly seeping into his pores, though his hair was still dripping onto his bare shoulders and chest.
“Nah. Just learned to be prepared for anything.” Steve’s hand rested on his knee. “I’m gonna shut off the headlights while we sit here. Just hang tight.”
Eddie was naked in the backseat of Steve’s car in the parking lot of Hawkins High while lightning flashed directly across from them and rain beat the roof of the car.
If he wasn’t living this moment, he never would’ve believed it was possible.
Steve’s hands were warm when they circled Eddie’s wrists, pulling him into Steve’s lap. He’d removed his own clothes sometime in the last minute when Eddie was lost in thought.
“Just gonna stay here for a few minutes while you warm up, okay?”
Eddie nodded.
And then it actually hit him that they were both naked.
No one would be checking on them as long as this storm was happening.
No one would even see their cars in the parking lot with how heavy the rain was right now.
They could do anything they wanted.
As if he could read his mind, Steve huffed a laugh against Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re always so eager to get fucked, aren’t you sweet boy? Even if someone could see.”
“No one will see,” Eddie protested.
“Maybe I want people to see.”
Eddie felt himself getting hard at the thought of them being caught, of Steve Harrington having to explain to Officer Powell why they were both naked in the backseat of his car. Of how many people had probably been fucked in the back of this car, but how none of those people had gotten Steve like this.
“Maybe I wanna fuck you so good that you scream my name so loud the people in the neighborhood a mile away hear and call the cops. Maybe I hope someone stops by to check on the cars and sees me so deep inside you they couldn’t possibly separate us.”
Eddie whimpered.
Yeah, he needed Steve to fuck him. Now.
“You’re still wet from when I got my tongue in you earlier, baby,” Steve said as he ran his thumb across his hole, still slick with spit. “But I came prepared tonight.”
Steve held up a small bottle of lube. Was that travel size? Did they seriously make a travel size bottle of lube? And Steve bought it?
Eddie loved him so much.
“Relax for me, baby. Gonna open you up more so you can sit on my cock. Gonna be nice and warm after, okay?” Steve’s lips brushed against his neck, his collarbone, his nipple. His fingers, now coated with lube, rubbed at his entrance.
One finger pushed in, quickly followed by a second one. Steve was good at reading him, knew exactly what he could take and what he needed.
Eddie liked to feel full, even if it had just a hint of too much, just a tiny little twinge of pain.
“Gonna ride my fingers?” Steve cupped the back of his head with his free hand, scratching at his scalp.
Eddie hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it, didn’t notice the way he rose and fell naturally as Steve worked him open. He wasn’t even trying to get more from him, he never had to push really. Steve was eager to give him more before Eddie had to beg.
At least since they started referring to each other as boyfriends, anyway.
A third finger entered him, and Eddie groaned at the stretch.
“Feels good,” Eddie threw his head back, only getting a little frustrated at the way the top of his head brushed against the roof of the car. It wasn’t ideal to be doing this in such a small space, but it was hot.
“Gonna spread you out on my bed next time so I can watch. Love seeing you open up on my fingers,” Steve bit down on his shoulder, both of them moaning as Steve’s fingers worked faster.
“Need you, need you. Please.”
Okay, so maybe he still had to beg a little.
But the moment he asked, Steve’s fingers were being replaced by his leaking cock, pushing in slow enough for Eddie to tell him to stop if he needed a minute.
“Fuck,” Eddie’s head fell onto Steve’s shoulder, putting him at a somewhat awkward angle, but Steve’s cock brushed perfectly against his prostate. “Oh, fuck. Can I come?”
“Now? Already?” Eddie could hear the knowing smirk in Steve’s voice and he wasn’t a fan.
“Yes, now. Already. Please.”
“Come when you want. But I’m not stopping until I’ve filled you up,” Steve said as he moved his hips faster.
True to his word, when Eddie came not even a minute later, shaking apart in Steve’s lap, tears dripping onto his still slightly rain-damp skin, Steve kept thrusting in and out. He didn’t even slow down, just kept the pace that Eddie knew he needed to get off.
The constant pressure against his prostate after he came was almost too much, and definitely would be too much soon. He felt the haze of overstimulation washing over him, let his brain go a bit cloudy as Steve used him to get off.
They didn’t do this very often; Steve was very much against possibly actually hurting Eddie and fucking him after his orgasm usually led to him wincing in pain. But sometimes, when the timing was just right, Eddie would start to float into subspace just when things got a bit less comfortable.
“Color, baby.”
“Green. Feel good.”
“Yeah, you look like you feel good, sweet boy.”
The compliments always made him float faster, make him drift just that bit further away, where he could just be held by Steve and know that he was being taken care of.
The rain seemed to be quieter, but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to move his face from the safety of Steve’s neck right now.
Steve’s hands tightened against his back, pushing him down onto his cock.
Warmth filled him as Steve moaned against his ear.
“So good for me, baby,” Steve whispered, his hips slowing to a stop. “Wish I could stay inside you forever.”
“Stay.”
Steve laughed. “I can’t stay inside you, sweet boy. Gotta clean you up and get you home.”
“Later.”
Steve gave him a minute or two, maybe longer, it was hard to tell with his brain checked out.
Day seven: ao3 | tumblr
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#subeddieweek#sub eddie munson#dom steve harrington#cw: public sex#bottom eddie munson#top steve harrington
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just thinking about how steve loves eating eddie’s pussy.
like most of the time, he doesn’t need to physically get off. just making eddie writhe and squirm and sob beneath him makes him happy.
he loves licking and kissing and slurping him, loves leaving finger-shaped bruises on his inner thighs and hips.
he loves hearing eddie’s whimpers and whines and groans and moans, loves hearing him cry out in absolute pleasure because of him.
he could eat him for hours if eddie would let him. loves when his pussy gets so wet and messy and sloppy with cum and spit and slick. he loves seeing his pussy get puffy and red from overuse.
eddie loves looking down between his thighs and seeing steve get lost in the pleasure of eating him. his eyes closed, mouth delving into the heat between his legs. he loves seeing how it physically affects him — face flushed, pupils blown wide, hard cock trapped in his pants.
yet, he never focuses on his own pleasure. it’s always about eddie and wanting to please him with his mouth, himself being a second thought.
most of the time, he grinds his hips into the mattress as he goes down on eddie, the mere thought and action of pleasing him and slurping him getting him off.
eddie winds his hands into steve’s hair, pushing his face even more into his pussy, — if that’s even possible — grinding his clit on the tip of steve’s nose. it’s always so good.
steve will moan and hum into his cunt, tongue laving up slick and spit and sweat and cum. he loves the taste of eddie, always has. loves making eye contact with eddie above him, loves seeing his face as he watches him eating him up like the last fucking supper.
if he could die between eddie’s legs, he would. he can’t find a better way to die. eddie’s addicting and he can concur that eddie feels the exact same way about him.
eddie loves when steve overstimulates him, makes him cum over and over and over. loves when his muscles are overused, skin sweat-slick, tear tracks on his face, thighs and legs shaking.
while steve just keeps going — eating. almost as if his mouth and face is sewn in between his legs.
after each time eddie cums, steve kisses all around his inner thighs and pubic bone, hands caressing him before making his way back to his priority.
after about the second or third time of steve eating him out for over an hour, eddie finally understood why all the girls of Hawkins were so head over heels for this man — why and how his reputation came to be.
it’s beautiful, really. both of them wanting the other to feel loved and cared for, wanting the other to feel euphoric.
Tags: @astrayeddie @eiddets @ineffableoutpost @stupid4steddie @steddie-steddie @steddiestains @munsonsleftnut
#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie x steve#steve x eddie#eddie x steve smut#steve x eddie smut#steve harrington x eddie munson smut#bottom eddie munson#stranger things#jay speaks#top steve harrington#trans ftm#ftm eddie munson#trans eddie munson#trans eddie au
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Another one. This time about Virgin Eddie. 18+ thoughts under the cut. Sub Bottom Eddie Munson/Dom Top Male Reader.
※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.
I am a Virgin Eddie Truther at heart.
Like... I know there’s the idea that Eddie can be at the very least be found cruising at some spots, but I digress. That boy is so much of a virgin to me. I believe he’s like, painfully virgin. Like, sex-less, kiss-less, holding-hands-less type of virgin. So it’s not a surprise that he’s awfully sensitive as well. And ticklish. So ticklish.
Eddie has a hair trigger. Anything as light as a soft caress will have him squirming in place. It’s never difficult for him to get hard. He could be just thinking about you and suddenly he’ll find himself rubbing his thighs together, which is enough for him to get hard. He’ll do the bare minimum, such as hump his pillow a minimum fraction, and imagine you taking his virginity, and all of a sudden he’ll be overstimulated, coming in his underwear, so hard he’ll almost black out.
You, his soon-to-be first in everything, exploit this to the maximum as well, loving the reactions you can pull out of him, and Eddie is just so mortified, because he thinks he’s being so exaggerated, feet shifting under his seat just because you suddenly decide to rub a thumb across his palm.
Oh, yeah. His hands and arms are so sensitive. Rubbing circles on his wrists will have him covering his blush with his hair. Gliding your fingers up his arms and up to his shoulders will give him a full-body shiver. Massaging his shoulders will have him crossing his legs.
Actually, just about every part of his body is extremely sensitive. Breathing down his nape has him scrambling to cover the tenting of his pants. Grabbing onto the inside of his thigh while you’re driving makes him hide a little whine behind his hand. Holding and caressing his waist will make him squeak, because he is ticklish after all and will almost have him laughing, even if it’s just a natural reaction to the arousal mingling in-between.
Venturing your hands across his torso gives you a similar, albeit stronger reaction; you have to press your hands harder against his chest or he’ll throw you off himself purely because he almost can’t stand it, can’t stand how sensitive he feels when you massage on his pecs, brushing against one remaining so, so sensitive nipple on one side, and an almost painful scar on the other side.
Kissing him has him grabbing at any part of you he can, already feeling himself tear up by the rawness of the feel. Kissing him with tongue has him moaning openly, muffled by your own mouth, almost sobbing by that point, because the simple act has him so hard, leaking like a fountain in his underwear, and it makes him so embarrassed because he knows you know, and—!
And of course you suddenly have to grab onto his ass while you kiss him with tongue, almost as if you’re fucking his mouth, so hard it almost hurts him, and he of course cums untouched while he openly sobs against your neck now.
#eddie munson x male reader#stranger things x male reader#sub eddie munson#dom male reader#bottom eddie munson
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gilding the lily
For @steddiemicrofic challenge for August!
prompt: 'cake' | wc: 311 | rated: E
cws/tags: cockwarming, facials, group sex, "puppy" used as term of endearment
literally everything is below the cut because this is filthy from top-to-bottom. (Also Eddie is not explicitly transmasc in this, but it's intentionally ambiguous enough that he can be if you want 🥰)
"Steve, please."
"Please, what, baby?" Steve murmurs, breath hot on Eddie's skin.
"More," he begs on a broken whine. Steve is buried to the hilt inside him, but he isn't moving; the pads of his fingers ghost over Eddie's dick at a maddening pace.
Steve hums in his ear. "Gotta let our guests finish icing their cake before you can have any, honey. Otherwise, what kind of hosts would we be?"
Eddie keens, wiggling in Steve's lap. He's already got come leaking out of him, caked on his thighs from Frankie fucking him. His nipples are sticky and pebbled in the open air from the icing Jeff licked away from them earlier.
There are still three of them waiting their turn, hands fisting over their cocks as they look at him like he's something they'd like to decorate and devour.
"You should give Gareth a hand, baby. Poor puppy's seconds away from blowing his load."
Gareth gasps, hand tightening on his length in a way Eddie would tease him for if he had any higher brain functioning left, and wasn't himself writhing on Steve's cock like a painted whore.
"C'mere, Gare," Eddie slurs, reaching out with grabby hands. Gareth stumbles forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. Eddie barely gives him time to right himself before swallowing him down in one go.
Gareth yelps, and it's no time at all before he's gasping out a shaky "'m close."
Steve fists a hand in Eddie's hair to pull him off, and Gareth's flies over his length in a blur.
"Steve, can I—?"
"Yeah, you can come on his face, puppy."
Eddie shuts his eyes, Gareth moans, and ropes of jizz stripe Eddie's face.
Steve's lips brush the curve of his ear, and over the slick sounds of Jonathan and Argyle making out to their left, he whispers, "Three down, two to go."
Steve version of this premise here!
#steddie#steddiemicroficaugust#nsft#bottom eddie munson#top steve harrington#stoner quartet#idk do jargyle + steddie have a ship name?#i have been informed that it's#stonedgyle#corroded coffin#fic#read writes
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Finally finished another steddie fic! Hopefully anybody who reads it enjoys it, please let me know if you do.
(Hit me up if you wanna roleplay as well!)
#fandom#stranger things#eddie munson#st4#top steve harrington#bottom eddie munson#steddie#steddie fanfiction#steddie fanfic#fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#roleplay#steddie roleplay#steve harrington#gay fanfiction#gay#queer fanfiction#smut#steddie smut
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Recapturing The Sunset
written for @subeddieweek | day 2: first times
“What should we do now?”
Eddie almost jumped in his seat. Steve was still staring out to the horizon. It was dark now, save for the faint blue colors at the bottom. More stars poked through, almost in resemblance to Steve’s moles. Eddie still couldn’t forget the abrupt dryness in his mouth when Steve had stood up and taken off his sweater at Lover’s Lake, his muscled and mole-decorated back exposed to Eddie’s homosexual eyes like the queer metal gods wanted to give Eddie a good moment in his life before the Upside Down advanced on him.
Eddie coughed in a vain attempt to distract himself from his mental tangent and the sudden discomfort in his jeans.
“Uhh,” he said smartly.
read on ao3!
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not enough virgin!eddie, not enough bottom!eddie, not enough one-minute-man!eddie, not enough steve edging eddie, not enough-
#steddie#bottom eddie munson#virgin eddie munson#I saw a twitter post about one minute man munson and it as always lit my brain on fire#eddie coming in his pants is something that can be so personal#if you have recs please post them in the comments#and/or maybe I'll do a rec post...I know I have at least 3-4 virgin eddie fics bookmarked#steddie recs
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my 2-chaptered fic “break my heart (and stitch it right back up” is published on my ao3!
Summary: Steve and Eddie are transmasc T4T and married. When they decide to go through the process of having children, Steve and Eddie suffer through a miscarriage. Steve is shattered, and doesn’t know how he will begin to move on from the loss. Eddie proposes that they try again, this time with him carrying the baby instead of Steve. They carry this baby to term, but Steve is desperate to try again for himself. He lost one, and he won’t lose another. It’ll go better this time. It has to.
Read tags before you carry on with the fic! If anything in the tags is going to trigger you, don’t read it. It’s not worth hurting your mental health ❤️.
UPDATE: there is no longer smut in the second chapter. i removed it due to rereading it and thinking differently about the story i wanted to tell. i also wanted younger steddie fans to be able to read it without getting uncomfortable, because it is one of my favorite works i’ve done. i don’t think the smut was important to the story, so i just went in and edited it out! 🫶🏻
#steddie#steddie fic#ao3 fanfic#steddie ao3#t4t steddie#steve stranger things#steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#trans eddie munson#trans steve harrington#sub steve harrington#dom eddie munson#sub eddie munson#top eddie munson#bottom steve harrington#bottom eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#steddie angst#steddie fluff#steddie smut
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So I was thinking about something like Eddie appears barely conscious, crawling out of the upside down through Steve’s pool. Steve sees him because he can't sleep and is walking around his house when he hears the noise. Obviously Steve heals him and takes care of him daily, in the process they become a couple because Eddie is very cute and Steve is not blind. When Eddie is fine, Steve has become so possessive and is so scared of what they (the people and others) might do to Eddie that he doesn't tell anyone that he is alive (not even the party) and doesn't let him leave his house. And when he asks for leaving and Steve says “no” he looks at him with his big Bambi eyes like “ok but then don’t leave” and obviously Steve stays because Eddie is pretty and hot and sexy and funny and a lot of things but mostly Eddie is his dirty little secret.
I’m sorry but I really think of Eddie like a precious bottom material and someone please write this so I don’t have to.
#top steve harrington#bottom eddie munson#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie fanfic#someone please write this#gay things#steddie fanfiction#steddie smut#steddie imagine#steddie idea
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MWMD - Be My Love
Steve Harrington X Virgin!Eddie Munson
Summary: It's NYE, and the cat comes hurtling out of the bag. Eddie and Steve finally do something about their feelings.
Word Count: 6.8K
Chapter: 6 of 6 CHAPTER LIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… Virgin Eddie Munson, Dry Humping, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Minor Crossdressing (ahem, EDDIE WEARS A G-STRING), Oh no they’re both tops?! what will they do!!?!, Top Steve Harrington, Power Bottom Eddie Munson, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Clamps, Under-Negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Creampie. Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use
Tags: Eddie Munson lives, 5 + 1 Things, slow burn, POV Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Caretaking, Massages, Sharing a Bed, House Party, Play Flighting, Bros Being Bros (JK it’s very homoerotic), Halloween, Boys in Makeup, Independence Day, New Years Eve, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending
A/N: thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged over the last few days! this story is so much fun and it was a blast to write. if you were to choose between an angsty rock star eddie fic next, or a fantasy vampire eddie fic next, which would it be? feel free to send in an anonymous ask if you have an opinion or input <3
Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’
December 31st, 1986
“Holy shit,” Steve shouts beyond the blasting music in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. Another holiday, another party. Eddie has attended more parties since meeting Steve than he’s ever even seen in his entire life. This one is at some graduated basketball player’s home, and Eddie has been clinging to Steve’s side for the majority of night so he doesn’t end up alone. It seems like a very unsafe place to find himself without his escort. Steve shakes his glass that’s filled with pink liquid in front of Eddie’s face. “This is so good. You should try one of these. It’s so good.”
Eddie sways to the beat of the (terrible) music. He’s tipsy enough that he’d stopped complaining about it half an hour ago, but not drunk enough that it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. He pretends not to know exactly what song it is (You Make My Dreams Come True by Hall & Oates), even though he knows it word for word. It’s not his fault that the radio station sometimes plays shitty music. Over and over. Until he has to convince himself it is, indeed, shitty.
Eddie eyes the liquid in Steve’s glass. “What even is that?”
Steve squints an eye. “I think it’s strawberry – no, raspberry. And… peach?” He smiles that crooked smile at Eddie. “And a whole lot of liquor.”
The image that Eddie has cloaked himself in over the years tells him that he can’t sip on a fruity cocktail in a public place filled with his peers. But a little voice in his head tells him, You don’t care what other people think about you anyway. And if it’s good enough for the King of Hawkins High… So he looks at Steve and says, “Lead me to the refreshments, your majesty.”
Butterflies erupt in his stomach when Steve bends in half at the waist and holds an outstretched hand towards Eddie. “Right this way, milady.”
Now, here’s the thing.
Maybe being called a lady shouldn’t do something for Eddie. But what does everyone call him? The Freak. And when it comes down to it, there are parts of himself that are rather… freakish. Like the G-string that he pulled from the back of his drawer to wear tonight – a dirty little secret – for his own cheap thrill. Or the nipple clamps he hasn’t had the chance to try out yet.
Or being called a lady by Steve.
So he takes Steve’s hand, because it’s beckoning him to do so, and his stomach churns sideways, and he has to remind himself of his promise – the one he made to himself – that that thing that he and Steve did was a one-time thing. That, despite all reasoning in the entire world, Steve didn’t mean to get himself off with Eddie and didn’t mean to get Eddie off, too.
Does that make any sense at all? Probably not. But what makes even less sense would be the opposite theory. The one where Steve isn’t completely straight.
It’s a theory that Eddie won’t even let himself consider, because it would spark that pesky little flame of hope within him. Better it never gets lit in the first place, instead of lit and extinguished.
“Hey, Stace,” Steve says to the blonde girl in the kitchen, who has a shaker in her hand and a group of other cute ladies crowding her. Steve gives her a devastatingly beautiful smile and she rewards him with a bashful blush and a bat of her ridiculously long eyelashes. The jealousy that Eddie feels at the exchange is concerningly violent. “Can you make a couple more of these for me? They’re amazing.” Steve shakes the glass at her the same way that he did to Eddie a moment ago.
“Of course,” she chirps, biting on her lip in a way that Eddie can only assume is seductively. She lets her tongue poke out from her perfectly plump, pink lips to wet them. Eddie nearly scoffs aloud. “So, Steve. Are you here with anyone?”
Eddie looks down at his decorated hands to see if he’s gone invisible. He certainly feels like he has. But nope, he’s very much there, standing next to Steve.
Steve’s not as much of a prick as everyone else at the party, so he throws his arm around Eddie’s shoulder, unashamed. “Yeah – this is Eddie. I’m here with him.”
Stacy’s eyes trail sideways and look at Eddie for no longer than a couple of seconds. It’s long enough, however, for Eddie to read her distaste. “Oh. No, I know. I mean, are you here with anyone.”
Steve’s brows crumple above his Roman nose. “What? I’m here with Eddie.”
The group of girls twitter soft laughter. Stacy pours the contents of the shaker into two solo cups filled with ice. “You’re such a fool, Steve.”
She says it in a tone that’s probably supposed to be endearing, but Eddie can see how Steve bristles. “Alright. Well, thanks.” He picks up the two glasses, handing one to Eddie and turning his back to Stacy.
He pats Eddie on the back and points his chin towards a clearing in the centre of the room. They start to make their way away from the kitchen, but Stacy calls after him, “Only a few minutes until midnight! Come find me!”
Steve turns to face her once more – so does Eddie – and he doesn’t miss how she throws him a wink.
“Oh, um. Thank you. Maybe,” Steve says, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and hauling them away from her advances before she can say anything else. They find a quiet space in the living room, against the wall. Eddie leans his back against it while Steve takes a sip of his drink. “I hate it when they don’t take a hint.”
For a second, Eddie wonders if he doesn’t take the hint sometimes. Social cues and all that. That would, in fact, explain why lately he’s been living in a constant state of confusion.
But all he does is nod, and say, “Same.”
They stand there for a minute, sipping on their drinks, eyeballing the crowd as they laugh and dance. Then Steve cocks his head and takes a step towards Eddie. Suddenly, he’s very aware that there’s a solid wall behind him. That Steve is closer than he should be. That he’s pushing into his space when usually that’s just an Eddie thing.
Maybe he’s rubbing off on Steve.
He’d like to rub off on Steve. Again. If you catch his drift.
“So,” Steve says, looking down on Eddie, making him feel strangely small, “what’s the story with you and Gareth?”
Eddie furrows his brows, nearly choking on his cocktail. “Excuse me?”
“I never really asked before.” Steve shrugs. “And – I don’t know – you guys seem to hang out a lot.”
“Yeah. Uh. I’ve known him since like, grade three. He’s my best friend.”
Steve’s eyes drop from his for a moment. He chews on his lips. “Oh. Of course – I mean, That’s… great.” Eddie stares as Steve’s expression falls. And he has half a mind to say that he looks… jealous. But the confidence quickly returns to Steve’s gaze. “So, what am I then?”
Eddie’s stomach ties up in knots. “What are you?”
“If Gareth is your best friend. What am I to you?”
He’s aware that all plausible deniability has disintegrated. It probably did a long time ago, but now is when it really hits him. That look sparks in Steve’s eyes – the cheeky one where he’s being flirty and sexy and he knows it. The one that has been unleashed on him a few times by now, but Eddie’s always made excuses as to why.
And he is trying, trying, to find an excuse right now.
He only slightly pays attention when the chatter in the room gets louder. When everybody turns to the television in the living room that’s playing the New York City ball drop.
Steve doesn’t turn to the TV. He still crowds into Eddie. “Because sometimes I think one thing, and then sometimes it seems like the opposite.”
Eddie’s only slightly aware when the whole room raises their glasses in the air, and they yell in unison: Ten!
Instead of answering Steve’s question, he sucks in a breath and holds it.
Nine!
And then he turns it around; he says, “I don’t know, Stevie. What am I to you?”
Eight!
Steve’s lips twitch into that cocky little grin of his, the crooked one that Eddie loves so much. God, he’s so attractive. “Well, I think –”
Seven!
“– it hasn’t been the most traditional way of getting here. But we’re –”
Six!
“– together. Boyfriends.”
Those two words volley around Eddie’s head for what feels like an eternity. Together. Boyfriends. The world is on a standstill. Everything is in slow motion. His heartbeat stops, and so does his intake of air. Everything kind of zeros in on Steve, and him, so close. Heat radiating from the body that’s pressed up into his own.
A million thoughts race through his mind at once: This isn’t real. You didn’t hear right. This is a joke.
And then there’s the other thoughts. The ones that tell him that everything that has happened since March – everything that’s happened in the last nine months – suddenly makes sense. Everything since waking up in that hospital hand-in-hand with Steve. That maybe the flirty moments – the small touches, the kiss that he only thought was a game, the playfight that turned into something more – maybe those things meant what Eddie was always trying to avoid thinking they might mean.
To keep himself from getting hurt.
But maybe all this time, Steve has cared – the same way Eddie has cared – and he’s been trying to tell him. Not in words, but in actions.
And each time, Eddie had shut himself down afterwards. He closed himself off from allowing a discussion, just in case it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
Here it was. That discussion. But it was everything Eddie never expected. Everything he’s always wanted.
All of this berates Eddie’s thoughts, but he’s only aware that no time has passed at all when the crowd yells: Five!
Even though he feels like he’s cracked the code, there’s still that pesky devil on his shoulder that’s whispering in his ear: there’s no way any of that is the case. So he stares up at Steve – he can feel the whites of his eyes shining as they balloon – and he whispers, “Really?”
Four!
Steve’s little smile turns into a full-on grin. His puppy-dog eyes crinkle in the corners. He takes another step into Eddie’s space, even though there’s not much left. When did he get so goddamn close? “Are you gonna give me a kiss?”
Three!
Eddie scans the room. He forgot that they aren’t alone, even though – tucked away in the darkened corner of this massive house – it feels like they are. Nobody is looking. Nobody is looking and Steve is so fucking close…
Two!
Eddie’s eyes flick down to Steve’s mouth. His lips are shimmering pink. Maybe from the drink…
One!
He nods and breathes, “Fuck yeah.” And then Steve’s lips are on his.
It’s as unbelievable as you might think, having Steve Harrington kiss you. Really kiss you. Not under the façade of a game or a dare, but because he wants to.
Just like the rest of him, his lips are sure. Confident. They slot with Eddie’s first with a gentle brush, and then start moving with conviction. He coaxes Eddie’s mouth to part and suddenly he can feel the scrape of Steve’s teeth against his lower lip. He can feel the heat of Steve’s breath as they breathe the same air. He can feel that Roman nose brushing against his own. Feels Steve’s hand – the one not carrying the drink – press flat against his stomach.
And then Steve’s tongue flicks out to catch the jut of Eddie’s lips – kind of like that time on the Fourth of July – but it’s a question. One that Eddie answers by opening his mouth further. That tongue slips inside, and he can see fireworks behind his eyelids, he can taste Steve’s drink, he can feel the slide of wet against his hard palate.
His self-control snaps.
Eddie pushes back into Steve. His tongue meets his in the middle, rougher, impatient. Their teeth clack together, he can feel drool seeping from the corner of his mouth and he’s not sure if it’s his or Steve’s but it doesn’t matter – he wants it all. His tongue licks over Steve’s mouth and he tastes artificial vanilla. And he realises in that moment that Steve’s lips aren’t shining and pink because of the drink, but because of the lip gloss.
When he has that lightbulb moment, Eddie groans into Steve’s open mouth. It’s mostly drowned out by the cheering of the crowd – oh yeah, the crowd – but still, Steve chuckles and pulls back.
“Do you what to stay longer, or do you –?”
“Fuck, no. Let’s get out of here.”
Maybe he’s a bit overeager, but Eddie grabs Steve’s hand that’s still pressed against his stomach and he yanks him towards the front door. Everybody is still blissfully unaware of their kiss. Everybody but Little Miss Drink Mixer Stacy, who’s staring so hard it looks like her pretty green eyes will pop from her skull. Her mouth is hanging open. She’s frozen in place.
Eddie really should be frightened that somebody in Hawkins witnessed such a disgusting act of intimacy between two men, but instead he feels proud. He blows her a kiss and wiggles his fingers in a wave before he and Steve slip from the door and into his rusty van.
He starts the ignition, and before he can even shift into reverse, Steve is grabbing his hand. He stares at it for a minute. Such a simple thing, holding somebody’s hand. But it still has his heart in his throat. It’s just so real.
“What are you thinking right now?” Steve asks.
Eddie feels the ways his fingers fit so perfectly between his own, and counters with a question of his own. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
Steve blinks at him from the passenger seat. “What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you – I don’t know – slap some sense into me? Tell me that you… felt this way. Or wanted this.” He gestures vaguely to his chest, wrapped in a WASP t-shirt.
“I thought you knew,” Steve says simply. He gives a loose shrug of his shoulders. “It’s pretty obvious that the things we do together aren’t really – you know. What just friends do.” His brows furrow. “Well, maybe you do those things with your friends, but I don’t –”
“I don’t either.”
Steve pauses for a minute as he smiles over at Eddie. “You really didn’t know?”
“It was weird.” Eddie looks down at his lap. “But I didn’t want to assume things. I didn’t want to wreck our friendship, because I – well, I really like you.”
Steve finally lets go of Eddie’s hand long enough for him to back from the front of the house they emerged from. He grabs it right back once they’re on the main road back to Forest Hills Trailer Park.
“I thought it was one of two things,” he says. “I thought you either wanted to take things slow. I didn’t want to pressure you into doing anything, because losing your virginity can be a really big deal.” Eddie’s entire face ignites. He tries not to think about how sad that is – twenty and a virgin. When Steve has been rolling in the sheets since he was probably fifteen. How casually Steve just said that, like it isn’t mortifying. He continues, “Or, I thought you weren’t really interested in taking our friendship any further.”
Eddie gawks at Steve. “Dude, I didn’t even know you being into dudes was a possibility. And if you were…” He pulls into the gravel in front of his trailer. It crunches under the tires. He doesn’t finishes his thought.
Not until Steve squeezes his fingers, and asks, “And if I was, what?”
“And if you were into guys, there’d be no way you were into me.”
Steve looks like he can’t even comprehend why Eddie would say such a thing. That he’s not aware of how different they are. That he’s not aware that Eddie is a mere mortal while he’s a god. “I’m into you, man. I’m so into you.”
Eddie stomach erupts once more into a thousand butterflies. Or maybe they’re bats. He can feel his cheeks turn even redder.
“And for the record,” Steve adds, “I really like you, too. I – I really like you. And I wasn’t lying, at the party. I want us to be boyfriends.”
Eddie chews on a little patch of dry skin on the corner of his lip, and desperately tries to kill the bats flapping away in his chest. “Okay. Boyfriends. I, uh. I want that, too.” He’s not great with words, but it gets his point across.
Because Steve is beaming as he leans across the centre console to press his lips to Eddie’s once more. Eddie tastes peach, and vanilla, and cigarette smoke, and chewing gum. And he tastes just Steve as their tongues mingle together.
Steve’s hands start exploring him – squishing the little meat he has on his thigh, teasing under the hem of his shirt, brushing against the few hairs he has trailing from his navel below the waist of his jeans. This time, when his cock starts swelling, he doesn’t try to hide it.
The beautiful cherry on top, is that this time, he’s freshly bathed and somewhat groomed. This time when Steve sees him naked, he won’t be embarrassed.
When Steve sees him naked. What a treacherously delicious thought.
When he moans into Steve’s mouth the same way he did at the party, there are no other noises to swallow it up. So it fills the space of the van, this raunchy sound that tumbles from Eddie without his consent. It sounds so unlike him – desperate and begging. But then Steve makes his own noise, and suddenly Eddie can’t wait any longer. He can’t wait to get himself on Steve, inside Steve, whether it’s his hands or mouth or his perfectly tight ass.
“Fuck,” he groans, “let’s go inside. Now.”
They barely make it through the front door and into his room. Steve is all over him, groping at his nipple ring through the fabric of his shirt, flicking it, twisting it – fuck, fuck. Eddie’s own fingernails are digging painfully hard into Steve’s shoulders, scraping against his neck, pushing under that stupid rugby shirt to rake against his impressive chest.
He crowds into Steve – shoves him against the ledge of his mattress. But before he can get Steve onto his back, he swivels so somehow he’s the one in front of Eddie. He’s the one pushing Eddie onto his back.
He falls to the mattress, Steve towering over him like some powerful warlord.
Eddie’s dick is throbbing, hard as steel in his jeans. He’s probably not contained at all in the – oh, fuck. Oh, FUCK. The G-string. The G-string that he put on before the party. The G-string that he has no intentions – zero – of Steve even knowing he owns, let alone seeing him wear. Why the fuck did he choose tonight to try it out, why did tonight have to be –
Steve bends to pop the button of Eddie’s fly, fingers deftly undoing the zipper.
“Fuck – uh – Steve. I just have to – can I just have a minute? I forgot to do something.” His dick is so tender. He can feel his heart beating between his legs, can feel himself leaking into the tiny cotton gusset of the panties. So small. So tight.
Thankfully, Steve nods. “Don’t take too long.” Before relief can find Eddie, before Steve pulls away from him to let him stand, he dips his fingers under the waistband of his jeans – just a small tease against what is supposed to be his boxers. But they find the string of fabric squeezing against the flesh of his hip instead.
Eddie sees the moment when Steve realises that he’s not feeling the elastic band of Eddie’s normal underwear, but something entirely different. “Uh, Steve…”
“What’s this?” Steve cocks his head to the side as his eyes trail down Eddie’s body, to his gaping jeans. When Eddie looks between his own legs, he nearly chokes at what he sees. The dainty fabric, edged in lace and a tiny, feminine bow, stretching obnoxiously over his cock. It’s holding on for dear life, that little triangle of fabric. It’s barely containing him – it’s not containing him. The waistband isn’t against his skin, it’s being pushed from his body by the swollen head of his cock and through the gap there, the flushed red tip can be seen. Glistening, strained, wet.
“Steve, I didn’t – it’s not…” Eddie doesn’t quite know what to say; he’s wearing women’s underwear. And not just any women’s underwear. The smallest pair that he could possibly get his grubby little hands on. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover what he’s feeling.
Steve’s eyes are glued between Eddie’s legs. “Is that a thong?”
Just hearing those words leave Steve’s mouth makes Eddie want to die. “Oh my God.” He covers his face with his hands. “I didn’t know we’d be doing this – I didn’t know! I’m sorry. I don’t do this all the time. It’s the first time I’ve – I swear. Jesus Christ.”
Steve’s quiet, but Eddie doesn’t dare look at him. Until he hears, “Show me.”
It’s a command, all but growled at Eddie from the man atop him. When Eddie opens his eyes, he’s met with a rather ravenous looking Steve – a predator appraising its prey. His eyes are black, his jaw is tense. The muscles there feathering as he clenches and unclenches his teeth.
“What –?”
“Show. Me.” Steve hauls Eddie to his feet but doesn’t step far enough away. Their chests are still touching – Steve’s heaving like he’s parched for breath. Eddie is frozen for only a moment, but soon enough his trembling fingers are peeling the shirt from his own back.
The look on Steve’s face doesn’t make him feel ashamed anymore. It makes him feel appreciated. Sexy. It makes him feel like maybe this part of himself that he wants to explore – this part of himself that really does make him a freak – can be done next to the man that he can now call his boyfriend. His partner.
He hooks his thumbs under the waist of his jeans, and he pushes them down.
It’s hard to get them off when Steve is still standing so close to him – so close that their bodies rub together as Eddie moves to take the rest of his clothes off, bar the little black G-string that only lived in the back of his drawer. Until now.
The air from Steve’s lungs puffs against Eddie’s face when he straightens himself out again. And then Steve’s hand lifts against his shoulder, pushes him backwards so he stumbles back onto the mattress. And because he’s feeling brave (how could he not when Steve is looking at him like his last meal?), he lays himself out on the bed. He spreads himself open.
Steve’s eyes rake over every inch of Eddie’s body, from the top of his curly head, over his flushed cheeks, down his pale chest that’s painted with not only silvery scars, but splotches of nervous red. They land between Eddie’s legs, where his knees are lewdly spread to display just how much the little triangle is struggling to hold everything down there. Eddie knows how it gapes around his balls, how heavy they look compared to the scrap of fabric. He knows because he stared at himself in his mirror before they left for that stupid party. And he knows that now, with his cock engorged between his legs, that it’s only gaping more.
Eddie swears he sees Steve’s knees nearly give out. He definitely sees his hands form fists by his sides, knuckles going white with the force of them. Steve doesn’t lift his eyes from Eddie’s crotch as he says, “I am going to fuck you until you cry.”
The room spins as Steve undresses – Eddie barely registers his words. He drinks in Steve’s near naked body, his abs that flutter as he works off his belt and then his Levi’s. The thick outline of his dick tenting his black boxers. But then he thinks, ‘when Steve fucks me?’ as he crawls slowly between Eddie’s legs. So he hooks them around Steve’s middle and uses all his might to flip that muscled body onto it’s back.
Eddie straddles Steve as he says, “I think you meant to say you’ll cry as I fuck you, Harrington.”
He can feel the line of Steve’s cock under his boxers, pressed against his near bare ass. It’s only made more obvious as Steve grabs Eddie’s hips and pulls them harder against himself, lifting his hips to rub against his body. “But your ass looks so good in that tiny little thong.”
“I don’t think you got a great look at my ass yet. How would you know?”
And just as fast as he got Steve onto his back, he’s on his again. Steve looms over him, grabs around his torso, and flips his body like a ragdoll. Eddie’s face presses into the blankets as he lays face-down, his dick throbbing as it rubs under him and against the mattress. Steve’s hands splay against the valley of Eddie’s spine, fingers slipping under the string waist of the G-string, pulling the fabric where it was almost buried between the cheeks of his ass. “I’m getting a pretty good look now. Turns out, I’m right.”
Eddie tries to lift himself up, tries to get himself in a position of power once more. But Steve bores down on him, pressing his chest flush against the panes of Eddie’s back. His hips pitch forward and his cock drags against the cleft of Eddie’s ass. And he hates himself for this, he really does, but he whines at the sensation. He whines, long and loud into the ruffled blankets, a little river of drool seeping from the corner of his lips as he does.
“If you think you’re going to stick your cock in my ass, Harrington, you can think again,” Eddie says. But there’s a part of him, a small part that’s growing, that knows that’s a blatant lie.
He always thought, without a doubt, he’d top the first time he had sex, and he’d top the second, and the third, and the fourth, and so on. He thought he’d always be the one to get someone underneath him, someone crying and begging, someone gagging to get dicked down.
But he feels himself falling into some form of submission. Not that he wants to admit it.
Steve presses into Eddie again and again. He can feel the panties soaking up as much of his precum as it possibly can, but it must be reaching its threshold. There’s so much. His cock is weeping and so is he as he hears Steve grunting with each thrust. “But think about how good it’ll feel. Think about being stuffed full of my cock, Munson.”
Eddie isn’t crying yet, but it sure sounds like he is with the noise that just erupted from him. It’s enough of an answer for Steve.
“Fuck yeah, listen to yourself. You want to take it as much as I want to give it to you.”
Eddie tries to swallow down his sobs, his pants, but really he just sounds pathetic as he says, “In your dreams.”
Steve bends over Eddie’s back, gets his face nice and close to his ear. “You’re damn right in my dreams.”
A finger slips under the band of Eddie’s thong and pressed against his asshole. Eddie moans and arches into it, but he spits, “Fuck you, man,” with the little conviction he has left.
It’s not very much.
He wants Steve, he wants to be coated with him, covered from head to toe, all over his skin, outside, inside. He wants to take Steve’s cock every way that he can.
“Keep these on,” is all Steve says as he moves away from Eddie’s back, snapping the thin side of his panties against his skin.
Eddie does.
But Steve – he strips down to nothing, completely bare naked as he stands near the edge of the mattress. His cock juts proudly from him, and Eddie turns to stare, taking in every goddamn inch of his impressive length. Somehow, that’s going to be inside him, but he can barely compute it.
“Lube?” asks Steve. Eddie points to his end table where he keeps stuff like that. The rare nudie mag, the bottle of lube, the nipple clamps.
The nipple clamps.
Eddie grins something sharp and feral as he tumbles from the bed, reaching the drawer before Steve has the chance. He throws the lube onto the mattress, but he keeps the nipple clamps in his hands, joined together by a thin, silver chain.
Steve eyes the metal in his hands. “What’s that?”
“These, dear, sweet Stevie, are what you’re going to have to agree to if you think you’re fucking me tonight.” Eddie would bend to Steve’s will either way, but he wants to see what he can get away with. Steve sucks his lip between his teeth and clamps down on it. He’s nodding before Eddie even has the chance to tell him what they are. “Good. Get on the bed.”
Eddie regains some of his gumption as Steve clambers to obey his orders, throwing himself on the double mattress that they’ve shared now for months. He leans his back against the headboard, reaching between his legs to stroke at his cock that looks nearly as painful as Eddie’s own.
If Eddie did the same thing, he’d come in a matter of seconds. It’s probably better he gets fucked than do the fucking, because it would last no longer than he could even get himself sheathed in Steve.
He walks on his knees to where Steve is splayed out – as if on a platter. He runs his hands against the fuzz on his thighs, up the rippling abs that are adorned with matching scars to his own (albeit, not as many), through the thatch of chest hair between his pecs. Then he pinches on Steve’s pretty, pink nipples to get them peaked and prepped for his little surprise.
Steve gasps, but presses into Eddie’s fingers. His hand stills from stroking his cock as Eddie swings the simple, circular clamps, attached by a chain, between their chests. “You ready?”
“Fuck yeah,” Steve says, even though Eddie is sure he has no idea what he’s agreeing to.
He opens the clamps wide enough that they won’t hurt too much, but narrow enough to pinch into the peaks on Steve’s chest. Steve moans when the first one clamps onto his nipple, and lets his head fall back onto the headboard for the second one. Eddie trembles with delight as Steve’s cock offers a pearl of precum when he tugs on the chain.
So he swoops to lick it up.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve gasps, eyes fluttering open as Eddie’s tongue swipes against the bulb of his dick. He seals his lips around the head of his cock, and sucks on it like a cherry popsicle in June. Steve’s hips buck forward into the heat of Eddie’s mouth, against the soft skin of his cheek. He twirls his tongue and laps at the slit, and he’s not sure if he’s doing a great job, but Steve’s thighs twitch under his hands and he’s making these sexy little noises, so he figures it can’t be bad.
He savours the musky taste of Steve, salty and bitter. And he learns pretty quickly that sucking Steve’s dick might be his new favourite pastime. The way he shakes and whines and whimpers is almost as delicious as the heavy, hot feeling of the cock in his mouth.
It only takes five minutes before Steve is tugging on Eddie’s hair, easing his lips from his length as he says, “Okay, okay. Don’t make me come yet. Jesus.”
Eddie wipes at the saliva seeping from his mouth with the back of one of his hands. He tugs on the chain connecting Steve’s nipples once more, making him keen into the air. Music.
The next thing Eddie knows, he’s being charged by Steve’s broad shoulders, backwards. He falls flat on his back, his head and hair hanging from the foot of the mattress as Steve grapples at the lube.
He doesn’t say anything as he slicks up his fingers, he only stares down at Eddie with so much want that it looks like he might burst. If it’s anywhere close to what Eddie’s feeling, that might very well happen.
“Ready?” Steve leans forward and tugs Eddie’s panties to the side. He can hear the threads in them pop as they’re forced past their limit of stretch. And as they pull to the side, his cock springs free from what little fabric sheathed it. They both look between his legs, at how red Eddie is. How swollen, how wet. His dick twitches at the attention, and he spreads his knees further apart as his answer to Steve’s question.
It stings when Steve pushes two of his fingers into Eddie. It stings, but more than that, it stretches, it spreads, it squeezes. God, he feels so full, Steve’s fingers are so big. He moans unabashedly at the ceiling, twisting his fingers into his own hair to distract himself.
“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling his fingers out only to plunge them back into Eddie deeper than before.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, yeah.” Eddie tries not to let the tear gathering in his eye slip bast the brim. It doesn’t work. It feels… it feels so good. Like its scratching an itch he didn’t know he had. And then Steve’s fingers brush against something inside him – a spot he’s only read about – one he didn’t really know was fact or fiction.
It’s fact. It’s so fucking fact.
His voice breaks as he all but yells into he empty air, Steve’s fingers brushing against that spot over and over and over… and, Jesus, he’s not even touching Eddie’s dick but he’s gonna come. He’s gonna come before Steve has a chance to touch him.
But then Steve stops.
“You sound so fucking hot,” he says, slathering his hand and his dick with more lube. He pushes a third finger into Eddie like he’s making a point, forcing him to cry out once more. This time he doesn’t brush against that spot, Eddie has enough time to recollect himself as he gets stretched over Steve’s fingers.
“Steve?” he says, lifting himself to rest on his forearms. Steve cocks his head sideways, his fingers stilling inside Eddie’s body. “Fuck me. Right now. Fuck me.” And just to assert his dominance, he grabs the back of Steve’s neck and hauls him closer.
Steve growls and blankets himself over Eddie.
His lips crush against Eddie’s. Their kiss is anything but timid or practiced or skilled as they attack each other with their tongues, devouring each other in deeps licks and bruising bites. Everything between them wet and warm.
The blunt end of Steve’s cock lines up against Eddie as they consume each other. And then he’s pushing forward.
Someone – Eddie isn’t sure which of them – moans into the other’s mouth. It’s a shared breath anyway, when one noise is made, the other swallows it down. Give and take.
There’s an unrelenting pressure between them, and Eddie feels it when the head of Steve’s cock pushes past his rim. He’s never felt like he feels in this moment. Claimed, but still equal as he presses his fingers into Steve’s neck with one hand and tugs yet again on the chain attached to his nipples with the other. Steve whimpers as much as Eddie, sliding forward inch by glorious inch. And then he’s seated so deeply inside him that Eddie swears he can see a bulge by his belly button.
“You better start moving,” Eddie says, panting against Steve’s lips, “or I’ll pin you down and do it myself.”
With that, Steve pulls an inch from Eddie’s body and pitches forward again. His cock rubs against that bundle of nerves inside Eddie, and he starts leaking profusely between their stomachs, a jolt buzzing into his core each time Steve’s abdomen brushes against his flushed tip.
Steve hums into Eddie’s mouth as his pace quickens. Eddie could come from the sound alone – their skin slapping together aggressively, only heightened by the ridiculous amounts of lube slicking their bodies. Steve grunting and hissing. His eyes squeezing shut and fluttering back open to bore into Eddie’s. They’re both covered in a sheen of sweat; Steve’s olive skin glistening and sparkling against the warm light of the tabletop lamp.
The coil in Eddie’s stomach tightens and burns bright. He’s whining with each thrust of Steve, building a tension that’s about to snap. And as if Steve knows, he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock and starts stroking, quick, dirty.
“Oh, fuck, Steve. Steve.” He can feel his body tensing around Steve’s length, can feel his muscles beginning to contract.
“You gonna come all over my cock?” Steve says, low and sultry. It almost finishes Eddie off.
But somehow he holds off, just for a few more seconds. Enough to say, “Not before you come inside me, baby.” He doesn’t even know if it’s true. But still, he pulls on Steve’s nipple clamps because he has an inkling that it might finish him.
“Fuuucckk, fuck.” Steve’s hips lose their rhythm. He fucks into Eddie sloppily, and then something hot and wet is dripping from inside him as he rockets against his ass.
When Eddie feels Steve’s cum dripping out of himself, getting shoved back in with Steve’s still pistoning hips, the tension snaps. Cum surges from his cock in hot, white ribbons, slicking Steve’s fist, catching in the fabric of the G-string bunched to one side, shooting against Steve’s and his own scars.
He’s sure he says something – maybe a string of curse words, maybe Steve’s name – but his mind whites out before he can commit that detail to memory. But he does know his muscles are tremoring in Steve’s grasp, he does know Steve’s abs twitch against his fingers as he rubs his spend into his skin.
And then they collapse, Steve softening in Eddie’s body with each of their heady breaths.
Time ticks by until Eddie can comprehend. And then – like the time before – he laughs.
“What the fuck?” Steve says, but it has no malice. He lifts his head from Eddie’s neck, where he was pressing delicate kisses, to grin down on him. “Is that something I’ll have to get used to? You laughing after sex?”
Eddie isn’t really sure. So he says, “I guess we’ll have to have more sex to see.”
Finally, Steve pulls out. Eddie can feel liquid drooling from within him, cum and lube. He needs a shower. But he needs this moment with Steve more, so he wraps his arms around those strong shoulders and pulls him into his chest. Steve hums his approval, nestles into Eddie’s side like he belongs there.
He does belong there.
When Eddie goes to the bathroom to shower, Steve joins him like he did all those months ago. This time, however, he steps into the water. He wraps his arms around Eddie and presses the pads of his fingers into his head when he washes his hair so sensually, that Eddie might weep. Steve doesn’t say something smart when Eddie gets hard again; Eddie doesn’t feel embarrassed about it.
They get each other off a second time, with Steve’s hand wrapped flawlessly around them both.
Then when they go to bed, they tangle together in a pile of limbs, without even their boxers. This time, when he wakes up to Steve clung to him, Eddie doesn’t go still or try to keep Steve from waking. He presses into him until his eyes flicker open in the dark of the dead of night.
They get each other off a third time, with Eddie nestled tightly between Steve’s thighs and his fingers circling his cock possessively.
Then, they finally fall asleep.
January 1st, 1987
Eddie wakes up in Steve’s arms.
This time, he doesn’t question what it means, doesn’t question what might happen tomorrow.
A new year.
A new start – with Steve.
’86 really was his year.
THE END :)
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#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#stranger things#steddie fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x steve harrington#eddie x steve#steddie blurb#gay eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie stranger things#virgin eddie munson#bottom eddie munson#eddie munson loves steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#top steve harrington#bisexual steve harrington#steve stranger things#steve harrington loves eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steddie fandom#steddie smut#steddie brainrot#steddie thots#steddie ao3
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When Eddie falls, the whole bed shakes.
The first thing Steve does is make sure Eddie's alright, that he didn't like, hurt anything. But he's still rocking against his thumb, still taking those same soft breaths, only now they're muffled with half his face pressed to the sheets.
The second thing Steve does is check the camera. A lot hinges on that little device. It's fine, still upright, still running.
Steve sighs in relief. Bends his thumb again to make Eddie make that same noise he did when his arms gave out, smiling a little to himself when it works.
This is a nice angle, he thinks. The camera will pick up on everything—Eddie's sloped back and broad shoulders, the few curls fanned out on the pillow, shaken loose from the bun, the tattooed dragon at the base of his spine, which is the most Eddie-like thing he's ever seen.
Of course he'd get a nerdy tramp stamp. Steve's stomach lurches a little to think that he probably got it with the intent of it being sexy. That's why people get slutty little back tattoos, isn't it? Eddie just never had the chance to show it off.
Well. He can now. Steve sees it.
He's leaking precum all over it, too, and maybe that's why Eddie got it, so it could get defaced like this, some extra pretty thing to look at for whoever's behind him. Steve smears his free thumb over the ink, rubbing in some of the pre. It disappears into his skin, leaving just a sheen of wetness behind.
Steve would press his lips to the little dragon's head if that were anatomically possible, right there in the divot of Eddie's spine. If Eddie wanted his lips there, anyways, he thinks guiltily, trying his hardest to shove kiss-related thoughts down deep.
from chapter 3 of my fic, blinking red light. click for subby eddie and angsty, sexy videotapes❤️
#st#steddie#steddie fic#blinking red light#brl#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#bottom eddie munson#sub eddie munson#top steve harrington#dom steve harrington#soft dom steve harrington#cuips writes#getting into the plot a lil bit now<3
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me, cracking my fingers: i guess if no one will do it, it'll have to be me
me: *starts writing top steve/bottom eddie with a sprinkle of sub eddie/dom steve fics*
#i need a beta reader and i swear i'd start posting fics#i already started like. two#but being insecure on? in? my english makes me leave them#my pillow princess eddie agenda<3#steddie#bottom eddie munson#top steve harrington#sub eddie munson#dom steve harrington#ste.ddie#st#oh god please don't think im good im probably awful!!! don't put too much hope in my writing!!!#english is fucking hard!!!!
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eddie loving sucking dick.
every time steve let’s him suck his dick, eddie’s brain short circuits.
his oral fixation is at its peak; always needing something in his mouth — fingers/fingernails, pens, pencils, marker caps, guitar picks, chewing gum, straws, steve’s dick.
which is why he’s on his knees with hands clasped together in his lap, looking up at steve with a mouth full of cock.
steve is leaning against the wall in his overly grand and glorious living room that sits empty a good portion of the year.
both of steve’s hands are buried in the top of eddie’s hair, gathering most of it on top of his head. he’s practically white-knuckling it, using his hands to guide eddie’s head over his dick.
eddie’s eyes are blown out, pupils swallowing all color around them. his plump lips are stretched thin around steve, slick and shiny with spit and precum. his nose is running profusely, spit dripping down his chin and falling in slow drips onto his neck and chest. his cheeks are flushed red, eyebrows furrowed upwards.
“got the best fucking mouth, Jesus Christ.” steve groans, moving eddie’s head slowly over his dick; loving the feeling of the warm and wet feeling of his mouth.
eddie whines, starting to palm himself through his pants. he loves having things in his mouth, sure — helps him focus and does it mindlessly. but when he’s on the ground being face fucked like a fucking whore by the hottest guy in all of Hawkins, it gets him off quicker than a virgin male having sex for the first time.
eddie tries to move his head faster, wanting to feel steve down his throat; wanting to get his nose crushed into his pubes, feel his balls pressing on his chin and neck. but, steve tugs harshly on eddie’s hair, scolding him for ‘misbehaving’ and eventually pulls him off his dick, making him make eye contact with him. his cock slaps against his closed lips and eddie fucking mewls at the feeling.
“so desperate for it, aren’t you? practically begging for me to fuck your damn throat” steve removes one hand from his hair and grips the base of his cock. he drags the tip of it over his lips and ends up slapping it slightly on his mouth, cheeks, even the tip of his nose.
“mhmm. want it, want it so bad, stevie.” eddie whines, trying to push his head towards the dick mere millimeters from his mouth and away from the strain of steve’s fist in his hair.
steve just snaps. shoves his dick back into eddie’s mouth and pushes, pushes, pushes all the way to the back of his throat, pelvis flush with his mouth and nose.
eddie moans wetly and loudly around steve, fucking his hips up into his palm on his clothed dick. he’s so close to cumming in his pants. he’d normally be embarrassed, insecure of the sheer amount of no self-control around steve, but at this moment in time, he couldn’t care less.
steve starts truly fucking eddie’s mouth and throat — constant wet noises fill the dark, empty room besides the crackling of the fireplace across the room, both of the men’s moans and whines and whimpers and groans sounding blissfully after one another.
“fuck, i’m gonna cum. so fucking good for me, baby. always so good for me — ahh, fuck.” steve’s unhinged. his hips moving fast, his entire bottom half of his torso is covered in spit and sweat and precum and snot and tears. eddie hollows his cheeks even more than he has before, flutters his eyes shut, and does his best to make steve cum before himself.
steve fucks one, two, three more times into his throat and releases the most pornographic moan, his voice cracking at the end, turning into the most sinful whine eddie has ever heard. cum streaks down his throat for what feels like twenty minutes; just coming and coming and coming — like it doesn’t have an end.
just that alone has eddie cumming into his pants like a thirteen year old boy just discovering how to masturbate. his eyes roll back into his head, mouth opening wide, spit escaping out the corners of his mouth, his tongue cradling the underside of steve’s cock.
steve humps his hips into eddie, chasing the feeling of his orgasm; releasing pitiful whines as he does so while eddie comes down from his orgasm.
steve moves both hands to the sides of eddie’s face and strokes his thumbs over his cheeks; wiping away the never ending amount of tear tracks. eddie pulls off of steve teasingly, mouth closing around the head of his dick and giving it a few kitten-licks and kitten-kisses before standing up and crashing both of their lips together.
“god. those old rumors never lie, do they?” steve says after eddie pulls away.
‘go behind the bleachers during lunch, you’ll get the best damn head of your life by eddie “the freak” munson’
eddie just scoffed, rolled his eyes, and slapped steve on the arm. “not my problem i have a severe need to have things in my mouth twenty-four seven.”
steve chuckled. “definitely works out in my favor though.”
#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#eddie x steve smut#steve x eddie smut#stranger things#steddie#steddie smut#steve harrington x eddie munson smut#steddie hcs#jay speaks#bottom eddie munson#top steve harrington
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※ Sub Bottom Eddie Munson/Dom Top Steve Harrington.
※ 1,224 words.
※ Personal work (not request).
※ Both characters are canonically 18 or older.
※ Content & warnings: Daddy kink. Mating press. Virgin Eddie. Unnegotiated kinks (but they’re very into it). Very short fic.
Something something Eddie finally catching up to everyone treating Steve like the ‘mom’ friend in the group. And he’s amused. But secretly immensely supportive of Steve on this one.
Like, how couldn’t he be? He knows it’s gotta be exhausting at some point.
Dustin’s amused, “Okay, mom.”
Or Mike’s irritated, “You’re not my mom.”
He’d be rolling his eyes and snarking all the time. He’s impressed by Steve’s patience nowadays. So he decides to poke at it just a little bit.
“Oh, Harrington,” he sing-songs, stomach swooping hotly at the annoyed look on Steve’s face; he knows he can joke around with Steve. They’ve gotten sort of close after everything they’ve gone through.
Only, Eddie has no idea if Steve’s lingering looks are just a figment of his imagination.
The counter at Family Video kind of needs a cleaning, but Steve’s leaning on it anyway. “…I thought you had to pick the kids up today? After all, you’re like the mom of the group.”
“Jesus, dude. Not you too,” comes Steve flippant response. “It’s Billy’s turn. I’m making this a brat-free day.”
“Sooo, what I’m hearing is… Steve Harrington doesn’t like to be treated like a fretful mommy?”
“Would you cut it off?”, answers Steve, though it’s not an entirely mean response.
“Okaaay.”
To Steve, it sounds like that would be it, but nothing good ever comes out of that playful little smile of Eddie’s, because he’s absolutely not ready for what he says next:
“Then does that mean we have to call you Daddy?”
Oh, ha-ha. It must be so funny to Eddie, seeing that he can’t stop snickering behind his hands after saying this.
It’s not that funny to Steve, who just stills, turns around, and starts walking straight into the employee bathroom. All with the deepest blush Eddie’s ever seen on anyone. Oh. Eddie fucked up, didn’t he.
Robin comes out of her break. Sees Eddie, alone at the counter, now covering his mouth. He’s not laughing anymore.
“Oh my God.” She looks in the direction of the bathroom, knowing Steve must be there. “What did you say to him?”
“Nothing! Why do you think I said anything to him?”
She gives him the stink eye. Eddie just leaves.
Later in the evening, some time after a thorough play with himself with images of pretty boys and hairy chests and pink faces in his mind, Eddie receives an unexpected visitor in the form of Steve Harrington, on the steps of his trailer.
Neither of them are saying anything. Steve’s face is unreadable. It kind of makes Eddie want to bite his nails. But he lets him in, and closes the door behind him.
A tense silence takes over the place. That is, until…
“Can you— Can you say it again?”
The croak in Steve’s voice is somehow delicious to Eddie; it sounds like Steve’s throat is dry.
“Wh-What?” And he has to chuckle nervously. He feels the pull of his hand, wanting to take one lock of his hair to hide behind it.
“Today, you… you said something. Called me something. And…” Steve’s face is an enigma. He looks like he wants to flee at any second, but still keeps going. “I kind of haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Oh, he’s got Eddie where he wants. He knows Eddie’s the queerest guy in town, but what he’s asking of him… Surely, this is just him taunting Eddie, is it not? A good old game of chicken between guys never hurt anyone.
But Eddie is weak.
Giving in to his impulse, knowing he’s probably sporting the darkest blush ever known to mankind, Eddie pulls on his own hair. Puts it in front of his face, covering everything but his eyes. And mutters:
“Daddy.”
The reaction is stronger this time. More visible, unconcealed. Something about the heavy breath Steve releases sounds, to Eddie, like a grunt, and he just has to avert his eyes.
“Louder.”
Now wide eyes return to Steve, pupils unable to stop widening from pleasure. Steve walks closer, and it’s Eddie’s instinct to take a step back in return, but he forces himself to stay where he is.
He gives in, like any weak man would.
“Daddy.”
It’s only slightly louder, and Steve comes even closer, until he’s in Eddie’s space. Takes Eddie’s hands in his, noticing the hitch in his breath as he’s forced to release his own hair.
Grabs his wrists. Puts them to his sides.
“Look at me when you say it.”
They’re sharing the same air. Eddie feels himself faint from it.
“Daddy.”
Steve closes what little space was left, making Eddie tremble and sag against him in his first kiss. Pushes Eddie back until his back collides with the wall next to his bedroom’s door, all the while giving Eddie a new succession of firsts: first kiss with tongue, first heavy petting, first dry humping. All until Eddie has to withdraw with the most erotic gasp Steve’s ever heard.
“You’re fucking unbelievable, you know?” Steve’s voice already has Eddie weak in the knees. A hand finds Eddie’s long hair and pulls, and Eddie’s so sure he’s already close. “A fucking brat.”
Eddie moans, pulls himself together long enough to say: “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
The big imprint of a cock against his pelvis tells him he’s not the only one affected. “Yeah, I bet you are. Teasing me in public like that. Bet you were looking for a spanking.”
There’s an obscene moan now, so loud Eddie has to hide in Steve’s neck from the embarrassment of being so needy. “Fuck me, Daddy.”
And a groan next to his ear carries a lot of promises.
Eddie loses his virginity to a man he calls Daddy in his trailer bedroom, music blasting as an afterthought to conceal the loud moaning he knows he won’t be able to quiet. Steve makes him cum an impossible three times in a row. Puts a twist on missionary that leaves Eddie’s insides so thoroughly fucked out he cums a first time, just from that. Makes Eddie ride him, aiding his trembling thighs by pushing up into Eddie, and as if that isn’t enough, spanks Eddie like he said he would, receiving a chestful of shaking, orgasming boy who somehow says he still can’t get enough, so he turns him around, puts him on all fours and presses his face into the pillow. Puts an arm around his windpipe. Envelops him so wholly it almost feels suffocating, pounds into him so hard Eddie would be screaming by this point if it weren’t for the small pressure against his throat, feet kicking to the sides of Steve’s legs on the bed. Makes Eddie cum a third and final and convulsing time as he too does.
“What the hell, Steve.” Robin points at something Steve can’t see on his neck. “Did you get mauled by an animal?”
Both Steve and Eddie blush in the gentle lighting of the Family Video store.
“Wait…” She looks between them two. “You.” She points at Eddie. “What did you say to him yesterday? And how did it lead to that?” And then, as if that wasn’t the most important thing to her, as if Eddie and Steve weren’t on the brink of passing out from embarrassment, Robin says: “Ugh. Great. I owe Billy five bucks.”
Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok or YouTube videos.
#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bottom eddie munson#top steve harrington#sub eddie munson#A very quick and short one.#Edit: My bad. It doesn’t have dacryphilia. I forgot to add it😭
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