Archive of Our Own

Eddie is so unused to being this fucking messed up over one specific person, and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. The fact that it’s Steve fucking Harrington doesn’t make it any better, and even though Eddie knows him now and he’s a good guy (the best guy, actually), it doesn’t help that Steve is probably, one hundred percent not interested–not to mention Eddie’s best friend these days. Eddie saw him in the hallways in high school, remembers thinking, damn he’s nice to look at, but it was never to this level–this constant, almost achy feeling to rub one off to fantasies of Steve (which, boundaries, Munson) when he’s alone, and don’t get him started on when they’re actually hanging out–it’s impossible to stop staring and nearly salivating over the column of Steve’s throat, the fucking veins in his hands, his stupid smile and soft eyes and–

Yeah. Eddie needs to get a fucking grip. It’s getting embarrassing. If Steve hasn’t noticed already, he’s bound to if Eddie can’t get a hold of himself. 

He’s going to drop by Family Video in an hour to bother Steve and Robin, so he lies in bed longer than usual, palming himself through his boxers and flicking his thumb over the head of his dick. He debates making himself come, but honestly, it probably won’t make much of a difference. When he used to get horny, before Steve, he could jerk off and he’d be good for the rest of the day, no problem. Now it’s like he’s fourteen again, barely any refractory period, and it doesn’t matter anymore. When he sees Steve it’s like his entire brain hums to life, whirring and buzzing like electricity. 

It’s never been like this before. Eddie is starting to get concerned that there’s something seriously wrong with him. 

He sighs and pushes his hand into his underwear anyway, rubbing two fingers over his dick and closing his eyes. He imagines Steve’s mouth on him, those pouty lips and those big eyes on Eddie as he licks into him. Eddie moans, shuddering, his mind a litany of stevestevesteve—he makes himself come mortifyingly fast, and actually does whimper Steve’s name completely out of his control. Jesus christ. 

When he gets to Family Video, there are no customers in the store and Steve and Robin are having a heated argument about Miami Vice of all things. Why is Eddie half in love with this guy again? Steve is gesturing wildly at Robin with both hands, and he looks good in that stupid green vest. His hair is a little lopsided like he was messing with it, and it just makes Eddie smile like an absolute lovesick moron. Robin sees him first. She grins at him, rolls her eyes. 

“Hey, Eddie,” she says. “Thank god you’re here, I’m so bored.” 

Steve turns, catches Eddie’s eyes and gives him this–oh. This amused, exasperated smile like him and Eddie are in on some inside joke. It makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he rolls them, drops his elbows back on the counter and leans on it. 

“What, I’m not enough for you anymore?” Steve says, in a faux dramatic voice that really rivals Eddie’s, actually, and slaps a hand over his heart. Steve’s eyes flit to him, grinning with all his teeth, and Eddie wants to lick them. 

“Mocking me in my own home, Steven?” Eddie gasps. It makes no sense, but Steve laughs anyway, eyes bright and heavy even when Eddie looks away. He squats a little and flings himself onto the counter next to Steve’s stupid (cute) elbows–he misjudges the momentum he’ll need to swing his legs over and his ass goes sliding across the vinyl. He knocks into Steve a little, but Steve steadies him with his hand gripping Eddie’s bicep. Eddie clears his throat, trying not to think about Steve’s big fucking hand wrapped around his arm, bare skin to bare skin, because he’s only wearing a Metallica shirt today. 

“Thanks,” Eddie squeaks, winded. Steve squeezes his arm once, then lets go. Eddie is dizzy, both from Steve’s touch and the smell of him so close–he smells like some kind of spicy sweet shampoo, maybe clove? Please, for the love of fuck do not faint right now, Eddie begs his traitourous body. He’s felt so out of control lately that he wouldn’t be surprised. When Eddie looks at Robin again, she’s staring at him, one eyebrow raised–she’s clocked him immediately. He looks down at his white sneakers to avoid her eyes.   

It’s a Tuesday, so the store is slow. Eddie stays with them for a couple hours, even though he worries sometimes that he’s actually bothering them. But today they don’t give him the chance to think that–they all bicker back and forth, and Steve keeps himself tucked towards Eddie. They’re not touching, but Steve’s body heat simmers against Eddie’s bare arms and makes them crawl with goosebumps.  A couple customers wander in before Eddie leaves, and Robin goes to greet them. Eddie slides back over the counter reluctantly, but Steve leans in again before he can put too much space between them. 

“Hey, do you want to hang out later?” Steve asks. “It’ll just be us, since Robin has plans.” 

“Yeah sure, man,” Eddie says. “I’ll bring the good stuff, yeah?” 

Steve beams at him, and Eddie has to pretend his entire heart cavity did not just fall through his ass. He leaves the store a little lightheaded, his chest aching a little from smiling and laughing and just being–fuck, happy, for once. 

🫀

Eddie’s a virgin, or whatever, is the thing. He doesn’t actually believe in the fucked-up societal definition of virginity or losing his virginity, especially as a person with a vagina, but the fact of the matter is that, either way, he’s never had sex. It’s not for lack of trying, though. After he turned eighteen, he’d gotten fed up and went on a weekend trip up to Indy. Its one gay bar was a hole-in-the-wall place down a dark side street, meant for hiding, and Eddie knew he had to be extra cautious, even. But he figured there had to be some guys that were into him. 

He danced with some men, flirted with a few more, and even made out with a guy significantly older than him in the alley behind the bar–which, he knows now, was definitely fucking dangerous, even though nothing happened.  But the guy was attractive, and definitely seemed interested. Eddie remembers that they were kissing, and the man (who’s name Eddie didn’t know then, either) was really into it, moaning and grinding against Eddie’s thigh. Eddie though, just remembers feeling kind of uncomfortable. He was kissing him back, but it didn’t really feel good. The guy’s mouth was wet and warm, and objectively, it didn’t feel bad. But Eddie was just kind of frozen there, kissing, body stiff. He wanted to be enjoying it, what the fuck was wrong with him? Kissing was supposed to be nice, at least, and it’s not like the man was trying to get Eddie to swallow his tongue or anything. 

When the guy reached between their bodies to pull Eddie’s zipper down, without even asking first, Eddie made a panicked noise and finally jerked away. He made some kind of excuse and ran before the man could get a word in. 

He went back to that bar a few times. He danced, he drank, he tried more kissing (even tried skipping straight to blowing a guy, once, thinking he just didn’t like swapping spit). Every time he lost his nerve, he panicked, he ran. 

In high school, during his second go-round of senior year, there was a boy that had heard the rumors about Eddie being gay and was curious. His name was Blake, and he was cute, and kept coming to buy drugs from Eddie a startling amount. He flirted with Eddie when they were all alone, was borderline nice to Eddie in public, but Eddie didn’t believe him, because this was Hawkins. But one day, Blake just asked him point blank if he wanted to fool around in the back of Eddie’s van. 

Eddie said sure, because if there was this one other gay person in Hawkins, he was going to take advantage of it. He had a lot of anxiety about Blake finding out he was trans, but it never even got that far. They were making out on a scratchy blanket that smelled like weed, and it wasn’t–it was okay. Blake had asked him if it was okay, and Eddie said yeah, it’s okay, and then Blake was on top of him with his thigh between both of Eddie’s, and all Eddie could think was he’s gonna be able to feel that I can’t get hard—but Blake seemed pretty focused on kissing him. 

He seemed just as inexperienced as Eddie, used a little bit too much tongue, and it was just on the side of too wet.  Eddie’s heart was fucking pounding so loud and he didn’t want to do this. But he wanted to like this, to want someone else, and Blake was nice and looked nice–and. Shit. Blake pulled away to give him some breathing room, and Eddie was panting too loud in the quiet car. He should’ve put some music on. 

“You okay?” Blake said. 

“Um–I. Yeah man, I’m good.” 

“We can stop,” Blake said, and he didn’t even sound pissed about it. He didn’t look convinced that Eddie wasn’t having some kind of mental breakdown, jesus christ. Everything in Eddie’s brain screamed at him to take advantage of this, to keep going, that maybe he would finally get to touch a dick and just–feel good with another person instead of just by himself in his bedroom. But as soon as Blake had pulled back a little, Eddie’s racing mind quieted, the panic receded. 

“I–shit. Yeah, maybe that would be good.” Eddie winced, but Blake nodded, sitting up a little and out of Eddie’s space. Eddie felt shitty about it, but also shitty about the fact that he felt shitty in the first place. He gnawed on his lower lip, lighting up a joint and passing it to Blake, because it was the least he could do. Blake took it, inhaling. 

“You’re gay, right?” Blake asked. 

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Yeah, I am. I just don’t–” Eddie pulled hard on his curls until it hurt. “I don’t know.” 

“Hey, it’s fine,” Blake said. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to college in a couple months, you know? I just figured, if I could get some experience.” he stopped, looked sheepishly at Eddie.

“I get it, man,” Eddie said. “So–you’re gay, too?” 

“I think I am, yeah,” Blake said. “Trying to figure it out.” 

“Sorry, I can’t–I’m sorry I can’t help.” 

“It’s okay,” Blake said. “If you change your mind though, just let me know.” 

And that was that. They smoked some weed, and talked a little bit–Blake wasn’t particularly interesting, but Eddie could talk to anyone. He told Blake some stuff about D&D, and Blake laughed at his dumbass storytelling, and then they both went on their way, separately, and Eddie had no more knowledge than what he started with. 

He resigned himself to being alone, maybe forever. Which, was dramatic, because he hadn't tried with that many people, but even so. He felt good when he was alone, so he didn't understand why he couldn't feel good with someone else, too. He cried that night, in his bedroom, the bed covers pulled all the way up to his chin and curled in on himself like he could disappear. 

The point is, Eddie knows Steve is experienced. He didn’t associate with any of Steve’s fan club in high school, but rumors got around pretty quickly, and no one was saying anything bad about Steve’s skills in bed. Eddie loved watching Steve in school, with his stupidly styled hair and khaki pants, but he was always unobtainable. He was straight, pretty boy jock Steve Harrington, and Eddie was at the lowest level of the high school hierarchy. He was never even an option. 

The more time Eddie spends with Steve after everything, the more he realizes that Steve is nothing like the perception that Eddie had of him years ago. Steve isn’t nice, actually, like Blake–he’s kind and loyal to his little ragtag family, but he’s pretty aloof to people outside their party. He can be fussy about the stupidest shit, like the fingerprints on Eddie’s van windows, and kind of a bitch, and Eddie is obsessed with him. And the more he gets to know Steve as himself, the worse it gets. 

It’s not like Eddie was immune, before. He saw Steve rip that bat apart in the upside down and almost had a goddamn aneurysm about it.  He replayed it behind his eyelids on a loop later, when they weren’t running for their lives, his mind screeching fuckfuckfuck that’s hot.  He couldn’t stop staring at Steve wearing his denim vest and his dirty chest hair that Eddie actually might want to put in his mouth–ugh. But the attraction has gotten worse, thrumming inside Eddie’s bones, since he woke up in the hospital and Steve was curled up in the armchair by his bedside, passed out and not even stirring when Eddie tried to say Harrington, what the fuck? with a tube jammed down his throat. Before Eddie was accused of murder, it was a casual appreciation, but now it’s just inconvenient. All encompassing. Suffocating. Like his body is making up for all the years it wasn’t a giant pain in the ass, and now he’s feeling every lustful thought he’s ever missed out on, all at once. 

Maybe Eddie doesn’t want to feel like everyone else, actually. Maybe, even now, it would just be better if he’s someone else. 

🫀

Eddie loves smoking with Steve. They’re parked at the quarry, back van doors thrown open to let in the cool September breeze. It smells like the oncoming autumn–like earth and rain and decay, and it mixes with the smell of weed and makes Eddie sleepy and warm all the way down to his toes. He’s lying flat on his back with the joint stuck between his lips, trying and failing not to stare at Steve, who’s too close and too far at the same time. He’s mirroring Eddie’s position on top of the blanket, legs and arms all sprawled out and head tipped back, eyes closed. 

The muscles in his neck are huge, and Eddie knows he’s gawking at him like a fucking idiot, but he can’t tear his gaze away. He loves smoking with Steve, because Steve gets all relaxed and loose and giggly when he’s high, and most of the time Eddie can watch him an abnormal amount without Steve catching on–but he also hates it. Eddie’s whole goddamn brain detaches from his body, and he feels syrupy slow and sweet, wants to kiss Steve so badly it’s like a physical pain. 

“You gonna hog that all night, man?” Steve asks. His head tilts towards Eddie–he’s smirking a little, lips quirked up and eyebrows raised, and his eyes are so fucking–they have flecks of green and gold in them, so fucking beautiful, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat on the way out. What the fuck was the question, again? 

“Mmm?” Eddie breathes. He has no idea what they’re talking about, not when Steve is looking at him like that–like maybe he can sense the tension between them too, amused and affectionate and something else, soft, that Eddie can’t name. Steve holds his hand out, and Eddie just stares at it for a second until he realizes Steve is waiting for him to pass him the joint, jesus christ. Eddie laughs, can’t help it, and hands it over–he must be higher than he thought. That, or drunk on Steve’s clove smell and how close his arm is to brushing Eddie’s. 

Steve takes the joint between his fingers. Eddie watches, entranced, as he brings it to his mouth and inhales, his lips touching the paper where Eddie’s mouth just was and–Eddie breathes in harshly, his belly tight and hot with arousal. Steve looks back at him, still smiling, and Eddie realizes too late that his mouth is open a little (please don’t be drooling, oh my god) and his eyes are probably dilated as fuck. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve says. Steve still has that fucking smile, but it’s wider now, deeper, curved with an almost-laugh and a bit smug–there’s no way he doesn’t know exactly what the fuck he’s doing to Eddie, but he hasn’t punched him or shoved him away or even discouraged him at all. Huh. 

Eddie flushes hard and obvious, the burn in his cheeks spreading to his ears and probably every inch of skin he has. He clears his throat, holds his hand out for the joint again, but his hand is trembling a little. 

“Like what?” Eddie asks, because he has to be fucking sure. He’s not going to assume anything, especially with Steve. Steve, instead of handing Eddie the joint, stubs it out on the van wall–Eddie shudders, watching him, his heart pounding and pounding against his ribcage. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, though it’s not a real protest. Steve just meets his eyes, giving him this look that’s almost admonishing, and Eddie swallows so loud he’s positive Steve can hear it. 

“You know like what,” Steve says. He scooches closer to Eddie on the floor, the joint stubbed out and forgotten, but they were pretty close already. All the body heat Eddie can feel radiating off him is fucking insane, and Eddie wants him so fucking bad it’s making his whole body shake. Steve reaches out, gaze never leaving Eddie’s face, and cups the back of Eddie’s neck with his big hand. “Can I?” 

And there’s absolutely nothing else Steve can mean except can I kiss you right? Eddie expects to panic, to feel that uncomfortable squirming in his gut that tells him run run run, because it’s one thing to want someone and something totally other to have that person right in front of you, touching you–but the sick feeling never comes. Eddie’s eyes flutter closed. Steve’s in his space and touching him and is probably going to kiss him. Eddie nods hard and jerky–he doesn’t trust his voice to not come out completely wrecked. 

Steve cups his free hand against Eddie’s cheek, tilting his face and rubbing a thumb across the skin there. Eddie’s breath stutters, Steve’s breath falls warm on his face–and then Steve is pressing his lips to Eddie’s, careful and so light. Steve pulls away after only a few seconds. Eddie makes a sound in his throat, grabs Steve by the striped polo he’s wearing and keeps him there. Steve doesn’t go far; he dips in again to bring their mouths back together, laughing a little. 

Steve’s mouth is warm, soft, and somehow it’s just a human mouth (as in, nothing more or different than Eddie’s experienced before), but it’s so much because it’s Steve. Eddie scooches closer, bringing one hand up to tangle in Steve’s hair and drapes the other one over his shoulders. Steve hums against him, and Eddie shudders when Steve strokes along both his cheeks, drags his tongue along the seam of Eddie’s lips. Eddie drops his mouth open for him, and Steve rubs his tongue along Eddie’s, firm and so hot–it makes Eddie’s entire body light up, buzzing and frantic and all he can think is holy shit, Steve’s tongue is in my mouth.

Eddie moans into Steve’s mouth, shocking himself, but Steve makes a soft, sweet sound right back that makes Eddie want to die. Steve separates their lips with a soft smacking noise, pulling back just enough to meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie knows they must be blown out, his whole body is trembling slightly with how horny he is from just a simple kiss. 

“Alright?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, fuck, Stevie,” Eddie says, voice wobbly and breathless. Steve hums, his eyes sliding shut when he tips his forehead into Eddie’s. 

“Can I keep going?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, probably sounds way too eager. Steve smiles against his lips this time, tilting his head to fit better against Eddie’s and then–fuck. Then it’s even better, hot and a little messy and wet, but not in a way that makes Eddie want to stop. He never wants Steve to stop kissing him actually, which might be a problem. 

Steve shifts a little, pulling Eddie closer against him. Eddie makes a soft sound against Steve’s mouth, and has to turn his head for a minute to catch his breath. Steve takes that moment to dip his head and press kisses against the side of Eddie’s neck. He drags his teeth under Eddie’s jaw, sucking a little kiss into the skin–Eddie moans, arching up into Steve’s mouth and clutching at his back with unsteady fingers. 

“Mm,” Steve sighs when Eddie digs his nails in a little. “You’re so hot, Ed, fuck.” 

Eddie whines, drags Steve up from his neck by the hair so he can kiss his mouth again. Steve is panting too, now, and every time they kiss and part it makes an obscene sucking sound that just makes Eddie want to grind his cunt against Steve’s stupidly hot thigh until he comes in his pants.  

“You’re hot,” Eddie argues, which isn’t a good comeback but it makes Steve laugh against his lips. “Can I sit on your lap?” 

“Fuck, yeah.” Steve grabs both of Eddie’s thighs and lifts him a little, which is–holy fucking shit. Eddie wonders if Steve could lift him up all the way, and that thought makes his entire cunt throb, wet and heavy in his jeans. Eddie adjusts so he’s straddling Steve’s lap, hovering over him a little until Steve gently pushes his legs down–so Eddie lets all his weight rest on Steve, and they both groan quietly at once. 

“Shit, Steve,” Eddie says. His voice is deep and rough, and Steve’s gaze flits between Eddie’s eyes and his mouth before he swallows thickly. Eddie watches Steve’s throat bob, follows his adam’s apple down and up and flicks his tongue out to wet his lower lip. He wants to taste all of Steve’s skin–put his entire body inside him, holy shit, Eddie should–maybe he should breathe, for just a second. “I–fuck, give me a second, sweetheart.” 

“Mm,” Steve murmurs again, and why is that so fucking–fuck. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No,” Eddie says, shocked that it’s actually true. He wants with Steve, wants to actually kiss him and keep kissing him, wants to get off with him so fucking bad, and–maybe it helps that Steve already knows he’s trans, so Eddie isn’t nervous about that aspect of it.  Not that Eddie told him, exactly, but it was kind of hard to hide it from him when he was visiting Eddie at the hospital so much and the nurses kept using Eddie’s wrong name and calling him–not him. Steve had been so confused for just a minute, until he’d caught sight of Eddie’s terrified, miserable face, and then he had gone all surly and cold with the nurses. He’d started correcting them, him and Wayne, like a two-person Eddie defense squad.

And Eddie had definitely cried and probably snotted all over Steve (he was on a lot of drugs, okay), but luckily he didn’t remember that so much. 

“I just–I’ve never done this before,” Eddie blurts before he can stop himself. “Like–anything.” He peeks at Steve’s face–he has one eyebrow raised, his face is all flushed, and he has his hands still on Eddie’s thighs, rubbing back and forth like he’s trying to soothe him. 

“Anything?” Steve prompts. “Like making out with a guy?” Eddie laughs, runs a twitchy hand through his own hair. 

“I mean. I’ve kissed some guys–I guess it was making out. But it wasn’t like this, okay? I didn’t.” Eddie blows out a breath, looking down again, but Steve ducks his head to keep meeting his eyes. “I didn’t like it,” Eddie admits.  “Not really. I mean, it was okay. But I didn’t–ugh. I didn’t want to keep kissing them.” Eddie imagines strangling his brain, like please shut up now. 

“Like you do with me?” Steve says. 

“Mmhm,” Eddie breathes. And Steve–he smiles, all bright and big-eyed, like Eddie hadn’t just confessed to being the biggest loser in Hawkins. “I’ve never had sex or anything, either,” Eddie says, like a challenge. Steve’s smile goes a little sharper, and he drags Eddie closer, nibbling another kiss against his throat and sliding both his hands higher up Eddie’s thighs. 

“Do you want to?” Steve asks, a low rumble in Eddie’s ear. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head all the way back. 

“Fuck, Steve, please,” Eddie babbles, and it’s embarrassing, but like–Steve knows every other secret he has, so at this point, if he still wants to fuck him, Eddie is going to count it as a win. He grinds forward into Steve’s lap, his mouth dropping open when he brushes against Steve’s hard cock through his jeans. Steve whimpers into the side of Eddie’s neck, and–fuck, Eddie has never heard him make that noise before. It’s the hottest fucking thing, and he wants to hear him make it again and again. 

Steve clings as Eddie rubs on him, panting in Eddie’s ear and making that little noise again–Eddie is nearly drunk with it, squeezing Steve’s shoulders and leaning down to kiss his jaw. The warm, fizzy feeling is building and building in Eddie’s lower belly, it feels so fucking good. Steve is grinding up against him, breathing hot and heavy against Eddie’s neck.  

“Ah–Eddie, oh fuck,” Steve groans. Eddie whines back, swallowing hard as his cunt leaks a little into his underwear. Steve smells so fucking good, and he feels incredible, warm skin touching Eddie’s, and his lips when he bites gently on Eddie’s earlobe make Eddie shiver so hard he nearly topples over. Steve chuckles, steadying him. “Y’alright?” he rumbles. And, actually–

“Hnn,” Eddie says. “Give me–a second, baby. Sorry.” He actually feels kind of faint, but not because he’s not enjoying himself–the opposite, actually. 

“Hey, no, don’t. Don’t be sorry.” Steve pulls back a little, and Eddie makes a soft sound of protest. He wraps both arms tighter around Steve’s neck so he can’t go anywhere. Steve laughs the same soft, lovely laugh, and how has Eddie never realized how fucking sexy his laugh is before?

“Alright," Steve says. "Hey. Let’s go back to mine, okay?” 

And that… that sounds good actually. Eddie doesn’t want to stop, but he’s a little overwhelmed and the drive back might be a nice break. 

“Okay,” Eddie says. He tightens his arms briefly around Steve’s neck, and then lets him go. Steve smiles at him, dipping forward to catch Eddie’s lips in another kiss. This one is quick, and Steve lets his lips slide against Eddie’s, warm and soft, like he’s bookmarking where they left off. It’s painfully sweet-nearly gives Eddie a goddamn toothache. 

The drive back is quiet except for Black Sabbath playing through the speakers. Steve keeps glancing over at Eddie in the driver’s seat, eyes lingering on Eddie’s wrist draped over the top of the steering wheel and his right leg bouncing every time they stop for a red light. The problem with the quiet is that it gives Eddie too much time to think. 

Eddie parks the van in Steve’s driveway, turns off the engine, but they don’t clammer to get out right away. Steve must sense Eddie’s sudden unease, because he just waits, not moving to touch him or anything. 

“Hey,” Eddie starts. “This isn’t some weird, like…conquest for you, or whatever, right?” He winces as soon as he says it, because he knows Steve now, knows him better than that. “That didn’t come out right.” He looks sideways at Steve, who, to his credit, is trying to hide his hurt, but Eddie can fucking see it and it opens this gaping hole in his chest that screams fix it fix it fix it.

“Not that–Stevie. Not like–I just.” Eddie screeches a little in frustration. “This isn’t a one and done for me, okay? I don’t think I can–I don’t think I can do this with you if that’s what it is.” 

And it’s like this. Eddie could have sex with Steve just fine, would enjoy it based on earlier activities, definitely –but he thinks if they do this and Steve acts like nothing happened tomorrow, it might actually destroy him. He knows Steve can have anybody he wants, but Eddie can’t be one of his girls that he goes on a few dates with and then they never call each other again, and not just because he isn’t one. 

“Eddie,” Steve says, soft, but so fucking loud in the silence of the van. “That’s not what this is, okay?” He laughs, but it sounds a little wet. “I’ve been into you for a long fucking time, man.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up, and Eddie turns his entire body sideways. 

“I’ve been into you for a long fucking time, too,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie grabs Steve’s stupid polo and tugs him a little over the center console. Eddie kisses him gently this time, opening his mouth just a little and dragging his tongue over the seam of Steve’s lips. Steve sighs with a little mhhm into the kiss; Eddie wishes he could record that sound on a mixtape and play it over and over again until the end of time. 

“God,” Eddie mumbles, parting for air, but then dips forward to keep kissing him. Steve pulls away for a second, looking over Eddie shoulder, and then growls a little (which, uh–jesus), manhandling Eddie over the fucking space between their seats and back into his lap. Eddie moans, sitting hard on Steve’s thighs this time with no hesitation. Steve’s not all the way hard anymore, but he’s halfway there, and that’s–god. Eddie seriously doesn’t know what to do with this guy. He wraps both arms around Steve’s neck, and tangles his fingers up in his hair. 

Steve peppers kisses up Eddie’s neck and that little space behind his jaw, grazing that spot with his teeth. Eddie makes a sound he didn’t know he could make, something deep and primal that comes up from his chest. Steve kisses him again on the mouth, groaning back at him like they’re making their own type of music together–it’s intoxicating, thrilling, beautiful. Eddie is so fucking gone. 

“Steve,” Eddie pants when Steve lets him breathe again. Steve rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder, breathing just as hard. It makes Eddie dizzy. 

“Mm,” Steve says. He kisses Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t know if he was planning to say anything at all, but it’s gone now. Steve kisses his jaw again, the jut of his chin, his cheek; Eddie tilts his face into every press of lips. 

“I like you so much,” Steve says, against his face. His breath is warm, but it makes Eddie shiver anyway. “Let me show you how much?” 

“Guh,” Eddie says. Fucking christ. “Fuck, sweetheart, please.” Steve fumbles for the door handle, sliding both of them off the seat and onto the driveway with Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist and barely even stumbles. “Fuck you, that’s so hot,” Eddie practically whimpers, and Steve laughs, setting him down. Okay, so that’s definitely a thing, then. Steve manhandling him. 

They make it into Steve’s house and up to his room with only a few stops to makeout against the wall, and it’s seriously the hottest thing Eddie has ever experienced, which he knows isn’t saying much–but he’s watched porn, okay? And this is–this is that times twenty (not to mention the only way he gets off on porn is if he squints and imagines it’s him and Steve together, fucking christ). They’re kissing against Steve’s closed bedroom door, Eddie’s legs wrapped around Steve’s waist, which is apparently their new default position now–and they’re grinding together in this slow, tortuous roll of hips that has Eddie nearly drooling with how good it is. 

“Stevie,” Eddie gasps, and his voice is so high it’s embarrassing. “I–we gotta stop, or I’m gonna–” 

“Want to see you come so badly,” Steve says against Eddie’s throat, biting him there and making Eddie yelp a moan, but he grabs clumsily for the doorknob. The door falls open behind them, and Eddie laughs breathily when Steve just gets both arms under Eddie’s ass and walks them to his bed. He sets Eddie down with a little bounce and an oof, but Eddie’s not going to complain because then Steve is hovering over him, all broad shoulders that make Eddie feel small in the best possible way. 

“This is still okay, right?” Steve says. 

“Uh, yeah, baby. This is more than okay.” 

“Okay, but–you’ll tell me if you want me to stop? If you want to slow down?” 

“I will,” Eddie says, soft. “I promise.” He wants to keep going, but he’s been overwhelmed twice so far, so he’s not counting anything out. He wants to see Steve naked, wants to see him all desperate and flushed, wants to see him come too, because of Eddie. Steve nods, smiles at him. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Eddie says, and gets to watch as a steady pink flush blooms across the apples of Steve’s cheeks. “I can’t believe you want this with me.” 

“You, and no one else,” Steve says. “Not ever again.” 

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, because–jesus. He can’t say shit like that. Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, and tangles both his hands in Steve’s hair to drag him down for a kiss. Steve moans, but Eddie’s rings get kind of caught and pull at his hair, so he slides them off. He reaches around Steve to drop them all with a plink plink on the nightstand. 

They kiss for a while, filthy and needy, and Eddie can’t stop making little soft mmms into Steve’s mouth, it just feels so fucking good–Steve makes that rumbly growling sound again, pressing Eddie all the way into the mattress so that Eddie can feel the sound vibrate from his chest. 

“Fuck, Eddie, god,” Steve says, and his voice is wrecked. “Can I–shit.” He has to pause to swallow, Eddie watches his throat bob. “Would it be okay if I put my mouth on you?” 

Eddie closes his eyes. Breathes. His cunt throbs in his jeans, and at least that part of him is very much with the program. 

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie says, rough. He clears his throat. “Yeah, Stevie. Want your mouth.” Eddie watches Steve squeeze his eyes shut and make a face like he’s in pain, so he adds a “please, baby,” for good measure. 

“Fucking love it when you call me that,” Steve says, and then he’s unbuttoning Eddie’s pants and tugging them off. Eddie shimmies a little to help him out, tugs his own shirt over his head while he’s at it. Steve’s eyes flit up to his chest and away quickly, over Eddie’s demobat scars and his one remaining nipple with the barbell poked through it. 

“You can look,” Eddie says quietly, with almost none of the nerves that are beating around his ribcage. “It’s alright, sweetheart.” 

Eddie’s tits never got very big even before he went on hormones, and before the demobats ripped up a significant part of his left one–sometimes he tapes them, but tonight he hadn’t, because it was just him and Steve in the back of his van. Steve does look–his mouth drops open a little when he sees the piercing, and he licks at his lower lip. He reaches out, hesitates–so Eddie wraps his hand up in both of his and places it on one of the starburst scars on his hip–the one that matches Steve’s, almost exactly. 

“You can touch, too,” Eddie tells him. 

“Uh–Is there anywhere you don’t want me to touch?”

Eddie smiles, because Steve–fuck, it’s just basic consent, he knows that, but the fact that Steve thinks to ask just makes him miles better than anyone Eddie’s ever tried to be with. 

“I’ll tell you if I need you to stop. But right now, no. There’s nowhere I don’t want you to touch.” 

“Okay,” Steve whispers, reverent. He glances at Eddie’s face again, and then strokes the hand on Eddie’s hip up over his belly, rubs it gently over the scar tissue where Eddie’s other nipple used to be. Eddie shudders a little, making a noise when Steve rubs his thumb over Eddie’s nipple, rotating the barbell a little and watching with dazed eyes. Eddie whimpers, reaching forward to tug at the hem of Steve’s polo. 

“Want to see you, too,” Eddie says. Steve lifts the shirt up and over his head, throwing it somewhere that Eddie doesn’t care to look. Steve is fucking stunning–and Eddie already knew that, but still–with his thick thatch of chest hair and the moles littering almost every surface of his skin. Eddie suddenly needs to put his mouth on Steve immediately, so he leans in to touch the strong planes of Steve’s chest, runs his hand over the soft give of his stomach. 

“Can I kiss you here?” Eddie breathes. 

“Yeah,” Steve says. Eddie pushes Steve backwards, climbing over his legs to straddle him (he lives here, now, in Steve’s lap). Steve is flat against the mattress, and brings his hands up to grip Eddie’s hips. Eddie fits his mouth over one of Steve’s nipples and licks–just little passes of his tongue over the nub. Steve goes tense under him, one of his hands flying to Eddie’s hair and holding on, so Eddie pulls back. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says.  “Yeah–it just–fuck. It’s just a lot. But it’s good.” 

Eddie grins, licks his lips. He lowers his head again, getting the same nipple in his mouth and sucking a little, this time. It just tastes like skin, obviously, a little like sweat too, but Steve makes a soft little ahh into his own arm, and Eddie’s mouth drops open. He does it again, sucks on it, and then looks up at Steve before he grazes his teeth across it. Steve jerks up into the contact, shoving his chest further into Eddie’s mouth and letting out this half-bitten off, broken moan. It’s loud, and fucking gorgeous, and Eddie groans with his mouth still around Steve’s nipple in response. 

“Oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers. “Eddie, Eddie, shit–” 

Eddie pulls back a little, but not before he lets his nose nuzzle into Steve’s chest hair and inhale. Steve’s face is so fucking red, eyes dazed and half-lidded as he stares down at Eddie, his mouth kiss-swollen and parted. 

“You’re sensitive, honey, huh?” Eddie says. “Can I suck the other one?” 

“Jesus christ,” Steve chokes. “Yeah, I–yeah, you can.” 

Eddie gives Steve’s other nipple the same treatment, kissing it softly and swirling his tongue around it before he sucks it into his mouth. Steve is still tense underneath him like he’s trying to hold back, but then his hips grind up into Eddie’s and he’s panting so hard and loud in the otherwise quiet room. Eddie feels high with how much he loves being on top of Steve like this, holding him down and making him feel so good, and then he has to press his face into Steve’s chest for a second and breathe through it. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie whines. “You’re so fucking hot, Stevie, I can’t fucking–” and he stops, takes a shuttering breath so he doesn’t come right there, and that’s–insane, right? That he could come from this, but he doesn’t want to, not yet. Eddie wriggles his way back up to Steve’s lips, kissing him hot and messy and they’re both barely coherent which shouldn’t make Eddie as smug as it does. 

Steve opens his eyes to look at him when Eddie leans away for a moment. They’re hazy like they get when he’s high, soft and fucked out and gone, and Eddie nuzzles into Steve’s throat to bite at his pulse point. 

“Okay, pants off,” Eddie says. 

Steve shakes his head a little, lifting his hips so that Eddie can slide his jeans and his boxers off at once. His legs are hairy, which obviously Eddie knew that, but seeing them up close makes him want to bite them. He runs his fingers over them instead, scratching a little with blunt nails, and watches Steve shiver. His eyes flit up then to look at Steve’s dick, pretending to be casual about it, because it’s not like he’s been dying to catch a glimpse of it for years now. 

It’s thick and swollen pink at the head, precome already dribbling from the tip, which–fuck that’s hot, Eddie hasn’t even touched him yet. It’s nestled in a patch of chestnut hair, curved towards Steve’s stomach and fucking gorgeous. Eddie waits to feel freaked out–but he doesn’t. There are some nerves simmering in his belly, but it’s not anything that’s going to stop him. 

“Okay, it’s your turn,” Steve says shakily. “Because I’m like this close to blowing my load, man.” 

“Fuck, yeah, okay,” Eddie says. 

And once Steve gets Eddie’s pants and boxers off, Eddie fully expects it to be too much–basically the love of his fucking life gazing down at him with rapt attention, cheeks going even pinker and eyes stunned and focused. He knows he’s wet, and he doesn’t shave as much as trim the hair around his pussy and legs, doesn’t know if Steve likes that. 

But then Steve says,  “Oh fuck, Eddie,” in a low voice, and leans his head on Eddie’s knee for a second like he needs to catch his breath. Eddie lets his legs fall open further, swallowing down the vulnerable feeling catching in his chest like Steve’s going to know what he means–this is all of me, just as I am–I want you to have it. Take it. 

“Still okay, right,” Steve says. “If I use my mouth?” 

“Yes,” Eddie whispers, nodding hard and panting in anticipation as Steve’s lips get closer to his pussy. Steve’s stubble tickles a little when it brushes the skin of his inner thigh, and Eddie jolts slightly with a laugh. Steve pauses, looks up at Eddie through his eyelashes and smiles. 

“Ticklish?” 

“No, don’t you dare,” Eddie warns, but his cheeks hurt from grinning. Steve laughs too, rubs his cheeks along Eddie’s legs and nibbles with a flash of teeth–Eddie giggles, then moans and hitches his leg closer to his body to give Steve more room. 

“Just relax,” Steve says. “I got you, babe.” 

Steve starts slowly, which Eddie appreciates–sucking and licking gentle kisses along Eddie’s folds and around his dick, rubbing just the tip of Eddie’s dick with the flat of his tongue. All the nervous tension in Eddie’s body slowly seeps out and away, leaving Eddie hazy with heat and Steve. 

“There you go,” Steve murmurs, detaching from Eddie’s pussy to smile and lick his lips. “You’re doing so good, baby. That feel good?” 

“Mmhm,” Eddie breathes, woozy on baby and Steve’s breath against his pussy. Steve gives this little smirk that should not be as sexy as it is, lowering his head between Eddie’s legs again. He flicks his tongue faster, sucking Eddie’s folds into his mouth and wraps his lips around Eddie’s dick–it’s intense, but Eddie is so fucking turned on, and he’s sensitive there–he moans and arches his back, shoving himself into Steve’s face and trembling when Steve pushes his hips down with his forearm. “Oh fuck, Stevie,” Eddie whines. “So good, feels so good, baby boy.” 

Steve moans against Eddie’s dick, which is–fuck. The vibrations make Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head, and he brings his hands up to Steve’s hair and holds him there. 

“Ah–Steve, right there, oh shit–” 

Steve eats him out so well, and it’s fucking hot as hell–Eddie isn’t surprised he’s nearly coming in three minutes flat. He’s so worked up already, from their entire night together, feels almost ethereal, like he’s dreaming Steve up. He’s floaty, making these little hah hah noises so fucking loud, but he can’t help it. 

And then right before he totally loses it, he gets too much in his own head. What if his face is ugly when he comes, or he screams Steve’s name and it’s too much, what if he’s too much–

“MmHH,” Eddie whines, half blissed out and half distressed, crying out a little as Steve digs his fingers into Eddie’s hip bones. Steve pulls back, his mouth fucking sinful, drool and Eddie’s slick mixed together around his pink mouth. 

“You okay?” Steve asks. And Eddie–he feels frustrated tears prick at his eyes. He was so into what Steve was doing, it felt fucking amazing–but his brain had to go ruin it. 

“I’m–okay,” Eddie says, “But can you–can you c’mere?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says. His eyes are so soft, and nope, Eddie cannot look at him right now. He’s so fucking beautiful. Steve slides up Eddie’s body until they’re face to face again, and Eddie pulls him into a deep, dirty kiss, tasting himself and Steve’s spit and–god, it’s so fucking good. They both moan simultaneously, and then laugh about it, huffing the same air without pulling away until they really can’t breathe. Eddie licks everything from Steve’s mouth, behind his teeth, and nibbles Steve’s lower lip and sucks on it until Steve is shuddering and rolling his hips down into Eddie’s. 

“Do-do you need–” Steve groans as Eddie pulls him hard into his body so that their dicks rub together. He’s close, Eddie can tell, making these hot little cut-off noises that make Eddie’s pussy throb so fucking badly. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “Just needed you up here instead for a little bit.” 

Steve nods, keeps kissing him–at this point, they’re both mostly panting into each other’s mouths, grinding their hips together. Steve gets a thigh in between Eddie’s legs. 

“Try like this,” he says, burying a hand in Eddie’s curls and gently guiding him forward to get off against his fucking leg, which–yeah, it’s hot. Eddie’s really into it. Eddie rubs his cunt against Steve’s leg, some of the hairs scratch against his skin. He moans, broken and desperate, he’s so goddamn close. “Yeah, like that,” Steve murmurs. His voice is deeper than Eddie’s ever heard it, and his dick gives a dizzying throb. “Doing so good, baby.” 

“S-Steve,” Eddie whimpers. “Steve, Steve, I–hah–” He’s rubbing himself so hard against Steve’s leg that he sees stars, the bed is creaking underneath them, that warm, glowing feeling is wrapping him up tight and squeezing, squeezing until he can’t fucking breathe around it, but it’s so good. Steve is clinging right back, face buried in Eddie’s neck and pressing little sucking kisses to his throat. 

“So good, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, low and raspy. “You can let go. You’re okay, I promise. I got you, yeah? I got you, Eddie.” 

And that–that’s what fucking does it. Eddie comes harder than he ever has, arching into Steve’s body and making choked off little gasps into Steve’s hair, eyes rolling all the way back in his head. Little electric shocks of pleasure buzz along the skin between his legs, up his belly and chest and down his arms. All through his orgasm, which lasts fucking ages, what the fuck, Steve holds him tight and keeps him close, whispering praise into Eddie’s ear and telling him he’s so fucking good, oh my god, so hot, Eddie. 

Eddie’s still shuddering through aftershocks when Steve starts panting and whimpering into his neck, rolling his hips into Eddie’s side. He’s so gorgeous, all tan skin freckled with moles that Eddie wants to bite and kiss and count until he physically can’t anymore. 

“Mm–want me to suck you off, baby?” Eddie asks, because he wants Steve’s dick in his mouth. Steve hiccups a laugh against Eddie’s collarbone, still pinning Eddie into the bed with every thrust, and–okay, this is hot as fuck, too. Steve using him to get off. 

“Yeah, but not–I’m gonna come,” Steve babbles, and then he does, hips hitching and come spluttering between them and over both their chests and stomachs, and Eddie sighs hard through his nose. His orgasm is quieter than Eddie’s, but he groans soft and long through it against Eddie’s neck. 

“Oh,” Eddie laughs, surprised. “Next time, then.” Steve laughs too, out of breath, and curls closer into Eddie’s body instead of putting any space between them. 

“Definitely.” 

They lie like that until the come gets tacky and cold on their skin. Eddie waits for the glow to fade, the relief and the happiness that he came with another person (with Steve) to turn sour and make anxiety curl in his gut–but it doesn’t.

 Steve falls asleep for a few minutes, puffing warm air into Eddie’s cheek and not stirring when Eddie wraps him up tight in both arms. When he wakes up again, he blinks sleepy eyes at Eddie and smiles, sweet and only for him. 

“How are you feeling?” Steve mumbles. “That wasn’t too much?”

“No,” Eddie says honestly. “You were perfect, Stevie.”  Steve flushes a little, clears his throat to hide it. 

They clean up their mess and change the dirty sheets to fresh ones. They stumble through their nighttime routines together, bumping bodies and shoving at each other and kissing against the bathroom counter. Eddie is elated, that warm buzzing feeling migrating to his ribs and behind is heart and burning, like it’s here to stay. 

🫀

Eddie wakes up the next morning wrapped around Steve’s back, his arms numb from clinging to Steve’s waist in the night. Steve’s bare skin is dappled with gold in the morning light, little sunbeams like stripes over his skin. Eddie unsticks his mouth from Steve’s shoulder blade, making a face at the drool he left there and squinting against the brightness. There’s a pleasant throb in his lower belly–he doesn’t remember dreaming, but he’s pressed so close to Steve they’re practically fused together. 

Steve grumbles something in his sleep at the movement, so Eddie shakes out one of his hands, rubbing it up and down a little on Steve’s belly and kissing a cluster of moles near the middle of his back. 

“Mmh,” Steve sighs, and Eddie’s heart flutters like a damn bird trying to escape. He presses a light kiss to the back of Steve’s neck, breathing in the sleep-sweat smell and pressing even closer, closer, always closer. Steve gives a shuddering, full-body stretch and wiggles in Eddie’s arms, turning around so that they’re face to face. “G’morning,” Steve says, muffled into their shared pillow without opening his eyes. Eddie laughs quietly, tipping into him and brushing their noses before he presses a soft kiss to Steve’s upper lip. 

“Good morning, Stevie,” Eddie says. He stares at the little smile that quirks Steve’s lips at the nickname and his eyelids flutter. Steve’s gaze is heavy and half-aware; he wrinkles his nose at a patch of sunlight across his eyes. 

Oh, so he’s grumpy in the mornings. Cute and grumpy and Eddie is so fucking obsessed with him it’s kind of scary. He watches Steve blink, ducking his head down so it’s out of the sun and so there are only centimeters between them. Steve yawns, smiles at Eddie–it’s a little shy, but warm, and Eddie sees it–sees what he feels like a visceral ache every time he looks at Steve, what makes him want to be vulnerable and loud and himself and know that Steve–that Steve wants that, too. 

Eddie has to bite his tongue on the words so they don’t come spilling out of his mouth. Steve said he likes him, he can’t be too much. He’s terrified of being too much. 

“What?” Steve asks, his sleep scrunched face going soft and serious. Eddie clears his throat. 

“I want to. Will you fuck me?” He wants it, so much. He wants Steve over him, inside him, suffocating him until he’s the only thing Eddie knows or feels (or ever will again). 

Steve stares at him for a moment, breath hitching audibly. He swallows, eyes falling to Eddie’s lips. 

“Right now?” 

“Mmhm. If now is good for you,” Eddie teases. 

“No, it’s–I mean, yeah, it is. Now is good.” 

Eddie laughs, and Steve shoves him a little. They make out for a few minutes, each of them trying to one up the other–Eddie gets his leg in between Steve’s and bites at his lips, Steve grunts and tugs hard at Eddie’s hair–then Eddie tweaks one of Steve nipples and Steve moans, fully rolling all the way over like a puppy going belly-up. Eddie, delighted, pins him down and rests all his body weight on top of Steve, ignoring the satisfied humming inside his brain at Steve’s submission. 

“God, that’s hot,” Eddie says, instead of growling and biting into Steve’s exposed neck like an animal. 

“Shut up,” Steve gripes, but his cheeks are pink. It’s so fucking cute. Eddie–yeah. Eddie likes him so much. “Let me–” Steve sits up, reaching around their bodies to rifle through the drawer in the nightstand, but not before he presses a kiss on Eddie’s mouth. It’s short, but Eddie opens his mouth immediately, chest rumbling with a groan when Steve’s tongue dips inside. 

Steve laughs, pulls away, and comes back with a condom and a bottle of lube in one hand. Eddie hums, leans in to kiss Steve again. 

“How do you want me?” Steve says against Eddie’s lips, so Eddie gives him some of what Steve gave him–he rolls them both so that he’s on his back on the mattress and Steve is on top of him.  Eddie spreads himself all the way out, limbs everywhere and hitches his hips up against Steve. 

“Oh-kay,” Steve says, kind of strangled. Eddie chuckles, gets one hand in Steve’s messy bedhead and pulls him down. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Eddie says. “Steve, please.” 

It’s not that Eddie isn’t nervous. Steve isn’t exactly small, but after the way he took care of Eddie last night, and made sure to check in with him, Eddie trusts him with this, too. 

“Yeah, baby,” Steve breathes. They’re both only in boxers this morning, so they shuck them quickly. They kiss for a while all pressed up together, and it’s probably stupid, but Eddie can’t stop getting horny just from the quiet gasps they make in between kisses, the noises their lips make sliding against one another’s–the slick puhs of their saliva blending together and soft smacks when they separate again. 

Eddie says Steve’s name on an exhale, and then Steve’s reaching for the lube and coating his fingers with it. He’s shaking a little, just soft tremors that Eddie might not have noticed if he wasn’t watching him so closely. 

“Everything okay?” Eddie says. He takes Steve's other hand, the clean one, in his right and tangles their fingers together. Steve blows out a harsh breath. 

“Yeah, I’m just–you’re really important to me, and I don’t want to mess it up. I want it to be good for you.” 

“Steve.” Eddie waits for Steve to meet his eyes, smiles at him, full and bright so that both his dimples pop out. “You already are, yeah? I’m not expecting, like, amazing sex my first time, okay? I just want it to be with you. So we’re already good.” 

“Man, shut the fuck up,” Steve says, but he’s smiling back. Steve kisses him again, pressing his grin against Eddie’s–they can’t seem to stop kissing long enough to actually fuck. Eddie wraps his other arm around Steve’s neck, pulling him in. 

Steve, like last night, starts off slow. He uses a lot of lube, and drags each finger in and out until Eddie’s rocking against them before he adds another one. Eddie has fingered himself before, but it doesn’t feel like that–Steve’s fingers are thicker than his, and Eddie knows they’re his. It feels good, especially when Steve curves them up into that spot that makes Eddie squeeze Steve’s hand harder, jerking his hips up and up to chase that feeling. Steve’s gaze keeps moving between his fingers going in and out of Eddie’s pussy and Eddie’s face, and Eddie groans, throwing his head back so it thunks against the headboard. 

“Steve, I’ve fingered myself before,” Eddie says. “C’mon, baby.” Steve frowns at him, and Eddie’s worried he took it as criticism–so he tugs a little at Steve’s hair, fucking his hips down onto Steve’s fingers. “Being so sweet to me,” Eddie says softly. He kisses Steve’s other hand, their sweaty fingers still tangled together. “Want you inside me now, okay, big boy?” 

Steve groans, but nods–Eddie lets out a breath when he pulls his fingers out. Steve rolls the condom on so quickly that Eddie laughs, jolts a little when Steve smacks the tip of his dick against Eddie’s hole. Steve smirks at him, raises an eyebrow. Eddie rolls his eyes–he should’ve guessed that sex with Steve would be like this, this constant push and pull together, half-joking, half-desperate. Eddie tips his hips up, shoves at his bent knee with his free hand to open himself up even more, watches Steve’s mouth drop open with a soft groan and his eyes flutter closed. 

“You’re gonna kill me, Ed,” Steve chokes, but he bites his lip and lines himself up, so mission fucking accomplished. 

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, adjusting, and then Steve is pushing in. It’s so warm and full, so fucking full–and Steve’s not all the way in yet. 

“You–fuck–you okay?” Steve says through clenched teeth. He stops for a second, panting. “Ohhh god, oh fuck Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, voice raw. “I’m g-good. Doing so good, baby.” 

Steve moans, pushing in until he’s buried all the way inside Eddie. It’s definitely a lot, and Eddie holds Steve to him for a minute, sweaty bodies stuck together, and it shouldn’t be the best thing Eddie’s ever felt but it is, somehow. Steve’s chest expands on top of his, and Eddie presses tender kisses to Steve’s hairline and gulps big breaths up at the ceiling until he thinks Steve can move without splitting him in half. 

“You’re doing amazing,” Steve murmurs. He sucks Eddie’s earlobe into his mouth, nibbling at it, and Eddie’s chest hitches. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? God, I’ve wanted you for so long. Since we first met.” 

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groans. He rolls his hips into Steve’s, shuddering hard as Steve’s dick drags inside his pussy. “Fuck, Stevie, fuck me, please.” 

Steve pulls out, pushes back in again with a whimper and a bite to his bottom lip. He’s using one hand to support himself above Eddie and with the other he pins Eddie’s hand above their heads, keeping their fingers entangled. His grip is tight as he fucks in and out of Eddie, little sounds punching out of him like he can’t hold them back. Eddie’s mouth drops open in a silent cry; he tries to meet Steve’s thrusts halfway as best he can, bucking his hips up and heaving ragged breaths and whimpers every time Steve’s dick nudges against that spot inside him. It’s so good, he’s so goddamn full, like he didn’t even know it was possible to feel like this. 

“O-Oh, my god, Steve, jesus,” Eddie pants into the side of his own arm. “Yeah, just like that, baby, you’re so fucking perfect, I–you’re so good.” 

Steve moans, hips jerking forward hard, and Eddie arches his back, trying to get Steve deeper, all the way into his fucking throat. Steve fucks him harder, their hips smacking together over and over with jarring skin slapping sounds that shouldn’t be getting Eddie there, but he can’t stop breathing stevestevesteve in stuttering whines. It feels so good, Eddie’s close, but he needs–he needs– 

“Want you–close,” Eddie gasps, “Steve, please.” 

“Yeah, baby, okay.” 

Steve thrusts in again, hard, and then stays there–their bodies pressed all the way together like they were before, wet and disgusting and exactly what Eddie needs. Eddie wraps his legs around Steve’s waist and hooks his ankles together over Steve’s back. Steve grinds forward into him, moving his hips in little circles, giving him something but staying right where Eddie wants him. 

“Like this?” 

“Yeah, Stevie, perfect. So–fucking good.” 

And it is good, Steve sliding and bumping inside of him, pressing his face into Eddie’s cheek and peppering sweet little kisses along his jawline. He thrusts out and back in with little groans, as far as he can go without unattaching them. It’s almost more intense like this, somehow, that full feeling all encompassing and fuzzing all around Eddie’s awareness, submerging him in the depths of how good Steve fucking feels against him and in him. It’s like–It’s like Steve is is his whole fucking universe, right here in this room, in this bed, and god he wants this forever. They kiss, mouths dragging together with wet sounds, until they’re just breathing in each other’s air. 

“Oh,” Eddie says, soft, overwhelmed. He’s warm, safe, wrapped in Steve’s arms and tethered where their hands still cling to each other’s. Steve moves, his dick dragging against that spot, and Eddie is brimming with pleasure and relief and love–

Eddie thrashes for a second, body curving up and pulling Steve even further inside him and warmth builds, builds out and out until Eddie is sobbing and shaking in Steve’s hold. 

“Oh, fuck, I love you,” Eddie babbles. “Oh my god, Steve–love you, love you–” 

Eddie comes so hard he swears he blacks out for a second. He moans, shaking against Steve and that full feeling explodes out of him and lights him up until tears sting at his eyes–he squirts all over Steve’s dick and the sheets, soaking them. 

Steve shudders against him, mirroring Eddie’s whimpers with high-pitched whines that shiver through Eddie’s brain and make him clutch Steve closer.  Steve fucks into him once, twice more, coming in between them with a blissed out sigh and going limp on top of Eddie. 

“Um, Steve,” Eddie says. “I just–came all over you, let me–” 

“I know,” Steve mumbles. “S’okay. Was really hot, Eddie.” 

“Oh,” Eddie says. He relaxes, finally wiggles his fingers out from Steve’s so he can wrap him up in both arms. Eddie’s heart is still pounding so fucking badly, and he knows Steve can feel it, with his face mushed into Eddie’s chest. It’s quiet for a beat, and then Steve props his chin up to look at Eddie. His eyes are all dreamy, god he looks so fucked out, Eddie can’t help it when he tugs Steve forward by his hair to press a heated kiss to his slack mouth. 

“Mm,” Steve hums when Eddie lets him go. “I love you, too.” 

“Oh,” Eddie says again. “You do?” 

Steve brushes their noses together, smiling softly, and gazing right into Eddie’s eyes–the tears brimming there from his orgasm finally spill over, a few rolling down his cheeks and into his hair. Steve makes a sound, wipes them away with his thumb, and Eddie might actually die of embarrassment, except that he sees Steve’s own eyes welling up. 

“I love you,” Steve says again. “I love you, Eddie.” 

“I love you,” Eddie sniffs back. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of saying it when it makes Steve beam like that. Eddie strokes up and down Steve’s back as they lie there, using his other hand to rub Steve’s head. “You were so good,” Eddie tells him, grins when Steve shivers against him. Eddie can’t wait to explore everything with Steve, and that is first on the list. 

But, for now, Eddie’s pubes are starting to stick to Steve’s, and that is not going to be pleasant if they wait much longer to get up. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Eddie says, slapping Steve’s ass just a little, because he can’t help it. “We need a shower.” 

Steve jerks, yelping a hey, but it sounds too breathy for Steve to actually be mad. It does make him sit up and glare half-heartedly at Eddie, but his cheeks are dusted pink enough that his freckles stand out, so Eddie isn’t fooled. God, he’s fucking perfect. 

Eddie leans in, kisses him on his pouty mouth until they’re both laughing into it, smiles pressed together.