#the whole piece is actually called 'blue neighborhood' so go stream troye sivan
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Wild [+reckless driving] (Steddie)
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Eddie blows smoke out the window as they drive, and Steve tries to keep his eyes on the road. With anyone else, that task would’ve been easy—Steve’s a real stickler for safety, plus his car is like his baby, and if anything happened to her he might as well die, too.
That’s dramatic, but still.
Eddie’s different. Steve couldn’t ignore him if he tried, and trust him, he fucking tries—especially racing down the highway in the middle of the night. It’s just impossible—those long, dark curls framing his face, his slump into the seat and spread of his knees, the tattoos that litter his arms like he has quilted limbs. Steve never knew a man could be so beautiful, and that scares him, but not enough to keep him away. He’s so drawn to it all—the bad boy, town pariah, nerdy charm. It’s like Robin and Nancy had a baby and it’s Eddie, which is sort of weird but mostly like a death trap. It's like the universe created him specifically, scarily specifically.
How could Steve not like him? How could Steve not want to jump his bones—press him into any flat surface and—
God, Steve wants to kiss him. Badly. He’s sure he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Everyone he’s ever been interested in kissing has been equally interested in kissing him—it wasn’t exactly difficult back in the days of high-school and being “Mr. Popular.”
Now it feels insurmountable, like Steve’s standing at the bottom of a cliff he has to scale in order to reach Eddie “the freak” Munson at the top, a feeling he never would’ve anticipated having, ever. Certainly not until Dustin had introduced them, insisting they’d get along and being right beyond measure.
They got along too well.
“Eyes on the road, Stevie.”
Steve turns quickly back to empty highway, despite his reluctance. He can feel Eddie grinning at his side profile, the arrogant bastard. This has been happening a lot lately—Eddie catching him. Steve would feel more embarrassed about it if Eddie really said anything, or called him out, but no. Just that stupid little grin like his ego’s swollen ten sizes. Part of Steve would prefer Eddie said something so he knew whether or not he stood a fucking chance.
“I don’t know if you know this,” Eddie continues, surprising Steve, because he rarely continues, “But you’ve been giving me the eyes, lately.”
Steve’s grip tightens on the wheel, he adjusts his hands, and then he tries to relax. They do need to talk about it. No matter how awkward it is, it’s only fair. At the very least, Steve wants to keep being friends with the boy, so as long as they have an open and honest discussion—
“Pull over.”
Steve’s brows furrow. He looks over at Eddie, but Eddie’s just staring out the window at the spanning corn fields. He flicks his cigarette out.
“Ed, we’re in the middle of—”
“Pull over.”
Eddie’s still not looking at him. Steve sighs.
“What are we doing?” Steve questions, popping open his car door, because whatever’s going on, it seems like Eddie wants to be out for it. He walks around the front, taking a deep breath of sweet, night air. He can faintly smell cigarette smoke, definitely Eddie, but for the most part, it satisfies his lungs like a cool glass of water. He rounds the front, and leans up against his BMW next to Ed, who’s got his arms crossed and is still not looking in Steve’s direction.
“I know that I’m giving you… the eyes, or whatever,” Steve says, itching to break the silence, “I just thought—” He cuts himself off with a sharp gasp as Eddie turns, caging Steve in against the car, their hips flush together and their foreheads bumping just soft enough that it doesn’t hurt. Steve wants to play it cool, but there’s absolutely no saving himself from reaching beneath Eddie’s vest and clenching his fingers in that dorky Hellfire t-shirt. He nearly swallows his tongue as the hand that’s not bracing Ed against the car slips two fingers through one of his belt loops.
“Tell me no,” Eddie mutters, still not looking at him.
He’s eyeing Steve's mouth, instead.
Steve begins to pant—absolutely mortifying considering Eddie’s done nothing but move to share space with him. His chest and shoulders heave with breath, and his mouth has gone so dry, he feels like he just woke up from a bender. He watches Eddie intently, anticipating, aching.
“I can’t,” he whispers.
The distance between them closes and Steve is pulling relentlessly on that shirt, desperate to be closer to Eddie than he already is which would be impossible unless Steve literally crawled beneath his skin. Eddie’s hand, which had been the only thing stopping Eddie’s body from completely crushing him against his BMW, moves to angle Steve’s chin—a move which lights Steve’s entire body on fire, because never once has he been corrected while kissing. Never once had a girl had the audacity to tell him what to do, how to be, and Steve is realizing now he craves that—that mindless direction.
Tell me what to do and I will do it. Make me good for you.
Eddie’s only kissing him and is somehow awakening his most severe desire.
When they break the first time, they’re both breathless. Eddie presses firmly into Steve’s body and it hurts with his back awkwardly pinned against his car, but he would not have Eddie anywhere else in the world. In fact, he hopes it continues to hurt for the rest of his life so this moment is permanently etched into his skin like a festering bruise.
“I honestly didn’t think this would go so well,” Eddie admits. Steve’s eyes flick down to those soft lips—the ones that taste like nicotine and spit, not overtly pleasant but so, so addictive.
“Kiss me again.”
“You got it, big boy.”
#fanfiction#lgbtq#writer#gay#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson#fanfic#kinda popped off with this one#there's more parts#if y'all are interested#the whole piece is actually called 'blue neighborhood' so go stream troye sivan#blue neighbourhood#troye sivan#such a god fricking album#EP?#I don't actually know lol
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