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Eddie has had a Bad Day.
Steve was on an early shift at the video store, because of fucking course he was, the one morning that Eddie wanted to curl up around his boy and bring him breakfast, make love to him soft and sweet in a way they don’t always make time for, lie together in Steve’s big bed and curl into one another’s warmth, sticky and sated and so deeply in love they couldn’t breathe, Steve had to get up before Eddie, be out of the door early.
Eddie hates Steve’s job with a fiery passion some days, particularly the ones he wakes up alone.
And then the kids. The kids who he loves with his entire goddamn soul but fuck, if they’re not hard work sometimes. Particularly Mike, now he’s moved out of the “hero-worship” phase and solely into the teenage hormone driven “I hate Steve (because he dated my sister) so you being his friend makes me pissed off” phase.
It would probably be worse if they told anyone but Robin about their relationship, but God. There are some rumours that you can’t shake in a town like this one, and those ones would make it a lot harder for them to see the kids, so they’re keeping it under wraps, which on days like today when all he wants is to see his boyfriend feels like the worst decision of his life.
And Dustin winds Mike up the wrong way when he’s going on about Suzie, even though he goes on about El the exact same way, and Lucas and Max were having a love in whilst he was trying to run a game-within-a-game for El’s first time playing, and Will was…Will was just breaking his goddamn heart because all Will wanted was to play D&D, and he had to watch his sister and her boyfriend, also his best friend and secret crush, stare lovingly at each other and giggle over dice.
And then he accidentally nearly killed them all, which he usually saves for when they’re playing against a big bad (or when he thinks it would be narratively dramatic).
El looked like she was going to cry.
He felt like a total asshole, so he had to introduce at the last second a character he’d wanted to hide until later in the campaign (and maybe he carried a mace and had brown hair and beauty marks, so what?) to help them deal a killing blow, because he didn’t have anyone else rolled up at that point, because the dice had fucking destroyed the kids’ plans.
Which didn’t piss the kids off, but did mean he’d have to send them an entirely different direction whilst Ser Stefan mysteriously went home and did some things Eddie hadn’t yet decided instead of sticking around.
Like he was going to.
When Steve came to play as Stefan.
For Dustin’s goddamn birthday party two fucking weeks from now.
So tonight, instead of sitting down with his baby and catching up on all the shit he’d wanted to do this morning, sitting and talking about their goddamn days around a beer and a joint or two before going upstairs and fucking him until he cried, he has to sit down and make a delaying path for the kids so he can try and get Stefan’s now reintroduction to be a surprise.
Walking into Steve’s big house feels like a surprise every single time.
He knows that Steve’s parents are never coming back, but despite that, he still expects a disapproving stare when he kicks off his shoes, drops his keys in the little dish Steve insisted on keeping by the door, a clunky van key with six different key rings on it next to Steve’s smaller car keys, which only have a single bracelet hanging from them.
The bracelet was presented by El after a “girls night” with Robin, Max, and Erica, but was confirmed by Robin to be a team effort between the three younger girls (Steve had nearly cried).
He can hear Steve singing lowly upstairs, what sounds like Master of Puppets morphed into something slow and sweet. Usually he’d hate to hear one of his favourites being twisted this way, but Steve doesn’t sing often, and that he knows all the lyrics makes Eddie’s metal-loving heart flip.
He also knows Steve picked that song for a reason, considering what they’re about to do.
“Baby, I’m home!” He shouts up the stairs.
Steve’s feet stop abruptly above him, then he hears him heading swiftly to the stairs, Steve’s usual tread banging down them (he takes them in threes, does just about everything this way; a kiss on Eddie’s two cheeks then forehead or lips, taps him three times when he wants attention, only ever flips a pancake three times when he’s cooking it) until he stops, midway, and meets Eddie’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, picking up on his mood just from the look on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Long day,” he answers, then puckers his lips obscenely, laughing. “No kiss?”
Steve laughs, finishes coming down the stairs, and wraps his arms around Eddie, a solid, hard hug, just the way Eddie likes. He pulls back, kisses him softly, and goes back to burying his head into the curve of Eddie’s neck.
“I missed you,” Steve breathes, and Eddie can feel it, warm breath and the brush of lips against his skin making him shudder.
“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Eddie grins into his baby’s hair, kisses the top of his head. “How was work?”
“Robin got her gum stuck in her hair trying to blow a huge bubble.”
“Did you have to cut it?” Eddie cackles. He’s sympathetic because fuck if he hadn’t had to cut gum out a few times but also, it’s funny as fuck.
“No, but we couldn’t remember if it was peanut butter or ketchup that’s supposed to get it out, so we decided to try both,” Steve grins. “So I ran over to the diner, you know the new place? The Double R? And I explained to Norma but she couldn’t remember either, so she gave me a jar of peanut butter and a squeezy bottle of ketchup, right?”
Steve’s on a roll now, snorts of laughter coming between words.
“So I get back, bottle in one hand jar in the other and Rob’s just fuckin losing it, she’s hiding behind the counter because she’s laughing so hard she can’t stand upright, so we like? Make a plan? And I’m there,” here Steve starts to act out his little scene, and Eddie can feel his eyes turn soft and adoring, “and she’s like…laying across the counter? And there’s this huge hunk in her hair I swear to Christ, Eddie, it’s the size of a quarter. And I’m slathering peanut butter telling her it’s gonna work and she’s ranting about ketchup, so I just grab the bottle and start squeezing it on like a fuckin hot dog? Holding her hair across the counter? And then fucking Vickie walks in and we’re just-” Steve completely loses it, cackling madly.
“I’m there just throwing ketchup on her hair, yelling about peanut butter, and she looks like a fuckin sandwich with all that shit in her hair, and then her girlfriend walks in, I kid you not.”
Eddie screeches, clutching his side, watching Steve complete his one-man reenactment.
He can see it, he’s interrupted the two’s nonsensical shenanigans too many times to count, knows the exact wide eyed look they have when they’ve been caught doing something ridiculous.
It’s strange, knowing the man he’ll love until he dies is one half of the same soul as a lesbian band geek, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. Robin is Steve’s platonic soulmate, and Eddie is the love of his life. They’re equally important to Steve in completely different ways.
“How’d Vickie react?” He asks around his grin.
“She was great,” Steve snorts. “Turned around and walked right back out, and came back a couple of minutes later with a hairbrush. And a cloth. And some water to wash Rob’s hair instead of having to do it over the bathroom sink.”
“Bitchin,” he approves. “Did you work out which one worked?”
“Oh, I radioed Dustin when I got in. It’s peanut butter, so Robin owes me a Coke,” Steve grins. His smile drops into something more sympathetic. “And he told me about what happened at D&D.”
“Yeah,” Eddie exhales sharply. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You need to do…whatever it is you do when it goes off the rails?” Eddie laughs, only teasingly mean.
Steve, for all he agreed easily to play with them for Dustin’s birthday party, still doesn’t quite understand what DMing actually entails. He understands his character sheet, and Eddie has written down precise instructions on how to do the math (because both words and numbers swim for Steve in a way they don’t for anyone else, but when it’s in short words in handwriting he knows it helps), but creating the world and the characters, building stories and designing combat?
Even after watching Eddie for hours, he still can’t get his head around it.
“I’ll make something happen. I had to use Ser Stefan, because I didn’t have anyone else rolled up to help out on me,” he apologises. “So when they know who you are when we play, either go along with it or don’t remember them, just let me know how you wanna play it.”
“Whatever you need,” Steve kisses him softly. Eddie can feel something hesitant about Steve, a pause where a line in the script was missing.
“Baby. If you still want to, I’m happy to go ahead with our plans.” His guess is right; Steve perks up just a little, a little glint in his eyes. “I still want to,” Steve whispers.
“Good boy,” Eddie kisses his boyfriend’s forehead. “Feel free to say no, but how would you feel about sitting with me and keeping my cock warm while I work out Hellfire’s next meeting? And then I’ll fuck your face,” Eddie watches as Steve starts nodding, eyes glued to Eddie’s, face turning a gorgeous red. “And once I’ve come down your throat, we’ll go upstairs and I’ll finally put my hand inside you, how about that?”
“Yes,” Steve breathes.
“Yes what?” Eddie snaps, slamming into character.
“Yes please, Daddy,” Steve looks down at the floor shamefully.
“Good boy,” Eddie praises. “Do you need reminding who you belong to, hmm?”
“No, Daddy,” Steve responds, eyes glazing over.
It always amazes Eddie, how Steve finds that space inside himself so quickly, the trust he puts in Eddie, to let Eddie Munson make decisions for him, to move him and play with him and fuck him til he cries; he trusts Eddie to give him pleasure and pain in a balance, to control him, to degrade and humiliate him and make it all feel good.
They set up on the couch, Eddie with his legs spread, naked from the waist down, and Steve, completely naked, kneeling on a pillow.
Eddie’s priority is keeping Steve comfortable and safe, so he makes sure to angle himself so Steve won’t hurt his neck, won’t have to strain.
Steve leans forward.
“Baby,” Eddie says, pulling Steve back by his hair. “You know the rules.”
“Red means stop, orange means pause, green means go,” Steve replies. “Demodog means we’re stopping completely for immediate aftercare.”
“Good boy,” Eddie praises. “But your mouth is going to be occupied, isn’t it, princess? So what you’re going to do for me is if you want to stop, urgently, pull away. I’m not going to hold your head down so you’ll be absolutely able to; if you just want a break or some water pinch my leg, okay?”
“Yes Daddy.”
“Repeat that for me.”
“If I need to stop urgently just pull away from you. If I just need a break pinch your leg.”
“That’s a good girl,” Eddie grins. “Even if it’s a small thing you want or need, or if you want me to move, or if you get even the slightest bit of cramp, you pinch me and we can stop.”
If he’s honest, he’s a little nervous. He knows it’s going to take at least an hour to divert the Party; even though he can just stick them in a village with a small problem to solve it’ll require a good amount of thought and pre-planning, just in case.
If they decide to rob some poor fucker in this village he’s going to actually kill them.
But he’s nervous because they’ve never really done this; the closest they’ve come before is Eddie keeping his dick inside Steve after fucking him, plugging Eddie’s cum inside, waiting for them both to get hard again. Steve leans forward and takes Eddie’s cock in his mouth.
Eddie’s hard, he’s been chubbing up since Steve took off his clothes, and Steve’s mouth is so hot and wet that he immediately wants to throw this plan out of the window, just grind into Steve’s throat, fuck his face so Steve cries and gags and tightens up around his cock. But he restrains himself; he’s got things to do, and as much as his restraint can be tested by Steve, he’s being trusted to stop himself from chasing immediate satisfaction the way that he stops Steve from getting it. Eddie breathes, calming himself down, and throws himself into planning (plotting) the party’s next session.
It’s odd, how time melts away. Instead of counting by hours and minutes, Eddie counts in the cycle of his arousal; the way he softens, relaxing into that wet warmth, with arousal building in his belly until he hardens again, and Steve relaxes his jaw without even needing to be told, letting him settle and the fire in his belly be soothed until the next time he hardens.
He keeps half an eye on Steve, checking his baby is okay and happy, but the majority of his focus becomes the Party’s next adventure. He weaves together a small village terrorised by an unseen evil, a curse placed by an evil count, causing grain to spoil, ale to sour, livestock to die, and at the stroke of midnight the dead to rise from their graves to seek human flesh.
He’s ridiculously proud of it.
And it’ll take at least two sessions for them to defeat the fuckers and save the village, so he’s pretty happy with that, too. He cracks his knuckles, stretches his fingers. He’ll have to roll up a sheet for the Count, but other than that there’s no more work to be done for this detour. He can finally focus on Steve.
His baby looks beautiful, his cheeks all flushed and pouty lips swollen and red. His eyes are shut, and the expression on his face makes Eddie’s heart sing; he looks at peace, like his brain has completely stopped, that the only thing in his head is sitting and sucking Eddie’s cock.
“Look at you, princess,” Eddie almost moans the praise. “So good for me. Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you darling?”
Steve moans and the vibrations feel fucking amazing against Eddie’s cock. He’s fully hard and aching, now, as though the past few hours of arousal have just caught up to him in one big rush.
“I’m going to fuck your face now,” Eddie announces. “You remember how you safeword whilst your mouth is busy?”
Steve hums affirmatively, knocking on the floor three times with his hand.
“Good girl,” Eddie sighs, and finally starts to fuck forward into that wet heat.
He starts with a slow grind, shoving Steve’s face so far down onto his cock he can feel Steve’s nose pressing into his tummy. One hand ends up in Steve’s hair, keeping his head in place, while the other slides down Steve’s face, touches those stretched out lips, and settles in a light hold against his neck, where Eddie can feel the length of his own cock down his baby’s throat.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, almost silently. “That’s it, love. Fuck, you take me so well.”
Steve is beautiful, swallowing down on Eddie’s cock, tears streaming down his face, light little moans escaping his mouth. Steve’s moans set off Eddie’s, and it feels as though they are a continuous loop, Eddie’s cock in Steve’s throat making Steve moan, making Eddie’s cock twitch, making Eddie moan, and Steve whimper or moan again from Eddie’s noise of pleasure.
He looks like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, kneeling at the alter of Eddie Munson, laying worship on his cock, like Eddie is some kind of beautiful, lustful god.
Eddie doesn’t know how long he stands there, grinding into Steve’s face, but at some point, the rising need in his belly starts flicking down his arms and legs, down his fingers and toes, into every fibre of his being, and he has to start thrusting properly, pulling forward and back, slowly at first, but with a rising force and speed.
His orgasm rises up on him like a wave, and it crashes over him when Steve looks up at him, those big brown eyes wet with tears and slightly reddened from choking on Eddie’s cock, and he raises his hands, one big hand curling around Eddie’s wrist, pushing the hand around Steve’s own throat in harder, the other going to Eddie’s balls, stroking over the soft skin, and behind, pushing on Eddie’s prostate from the outside.
Eddie makes a nose that, in the privacy of his own head, can only be called a yowl, and he tightens his hand around Steve’s neck even more, pushing Steve’s head down, coming down his throat; Steve lets out a happy little whine, swallowing as much as he can.
A drop of white cum wells up just on the outside of Steve’s rose red lips, in the corner of his mouth. Beyond words, Eddie gathers it on his finger and smears it across Steve’s flushed cheeks, across the tear stains, smearing it across his lover’s face like war paint.
God, he’s incredible.
Eddie feels all his love for Steve slam into him like a train, more powerful than his orgasm. He pulls out of Steve’s mouth slowly, giving himself time to readjust to the feeling of cool air on his cock instead of Steve’s wet, warm mouth. Steve is looking up at him adoringly, as though Eddie holds the answer to every question.
“Well done, princess.” Eddie’s voice comes out raspy, from both where he’s spent all day talking as well as moaning his pleasure. “You took Daddy so well!”
Steve whines, his knuckles white where he’s clenching his hands with the effort of not thrusting up his hips, trying to get friction.
“Look at you, you slut,” Eddie delights in Steve’s eyes slamming shut. “Wanting anything on your cock, you absolute whore.”
Smirking as an idea comes to him, Eddie pushes his naked foot against Steve’s hard cock. Steve shudders, the urge to push his cock into the pressure warring with the humiliation of Eddie not even deigning to give him a hand or thigh to rut against.
“Get upstairs,” Eddie commands. They both know what’s coming next, what they’ve been planning for a while now. Steve goes to stand up but stumbles, legs not quite ready to hold his weight again.
“Whoa, big boy,” Eddie soothes, stepping forward to take Steve’s weight while the pins and needles recede. “I gotcha, don’t worry.”
Steve is trembling, just a little, adrenaline and arousal combining into a heady mix, making him sweat. Eddie noses into his neck, licks at the salty skin, pushes his nose into Steve’s hair, kissing his temple.
The moment of quiet soothes them both, the only noise their breathing, Eddie’s quiet and relaxed, Steve’s a gulping pant slowing to deep breathy sighs.
“I love you,” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear, rocking him back and forth a little.
“I love you too,” Steve breathes back, wiggling further into Eddie’s embrace.
They pause for a long moment before Steve steps back just a little, testing his feet; when they hold his weight, he makes an approving huff and takes Eddie’s hand, pulling him towards the stairs.
Steve’s bedroom, now that his parents have fled Hawkins and their house there, is much more lived in than it was.
The ugly wallpaper is covered in posters; one homemade Corroded Coffin poster signed by the band (with Eddie’s writing for my sweetheart nearly covering his own face, which was lovingly replicated by Will), one Wham!, some Eddie’s tastes and some Steve’s.
There’s photos of the Party lovingly pushed into a cork board, Steve and his kids, individually and as a group, Steve and Jonathan and Nancy, but more than anything there’s Steve and Eddie and Robin.
There’s Robin, in her old Scoops Ahoy uniform, hanging on Steve’s arm. In Family Video uniform, her and Steve throwing bunny ears up behind each others’ backs. Robin laughing, a blur of motion, as she’s caught on camera jumping onto Steve’s back, Steve surprised but laughing. Eddie smiles at them, but his eyes are drawn to the ones of Steve and him.
The photos of himself sometimes make him embarrassed, because as much as they’re all plausibly-platonic (all the photos of him and Steve kissing and those really nice ones Steve let him take when they were fucking that one time are all hidden at Eddie’s, tucked away with his porno mags) the way he looks at Steve definitely isn’t.
He really doesn’t understand how the way he looks at Steve doesn’t get them caught, because there are times, looking at these photos, Eddie can see the almost-literal heart eyes they send at each other; in the background at El’s birthday party or a pizza night with the kids, or when they’re sat together flipping off the camera.
His favourite picture of the two of them is from Corroded Coffin’s first big gig, Eddie sweaty and wild eyed, eyeliner halfway down his face, battle jacket on over his bare chest. Steve is there in his singular t-shirt, chest hair just peeking out of the top, a huge smile on his face as Eddie hangs over his shoulder. Eddie is, for reasons he can’t quite remember, biting Steve’s ear, but the two of them in the image look so happy, wrapped up in each other. It’s innocent enough to be platonic, but for anyone who’s slightly open-minded and looking for it, the love in their eyes is an open book.
Riding high on the echo awoken by the photograph of the smell of Steve’s hair, Eddie grabs his boy close, bites at his ear, blows a raspberry into the long line of his neck.
“Eddie,” Steve giggles, pushing at him without force, basking in the attention.
He loves Eddie’s attention, the glow of sunshine feeling that fills his body head to toe when Eddie watches him.
“Sunshine,” Eddie smirks, “why don’t you get on the bed now?”
There’s towels already laid out on the bed, but Eddie knows he’s probably going to have to change the bedding anyway; Steve refuses to sleep in any kind of damp, and Eddie refuses to let his baby girl be any kind of uncomfortable (if Eddie can’t be bothered to change the sheets, they’re going to end up in Steve’s parents’ old room, which has now been repurposed as a room for the kids when they stay over, but there’s only single beds, so it’ll be a tight squish). Steve arranges himself carefully, wiggling a pillow under his hips.
They’ve planned this out so many times he knows exactly how Eddie wants him without any instructions, lying on his back, splayed out like an obscene painting.
Eddie watches Steve for just a moment, tracing with his eyes the dip of Steve’s belly, the fold of his knee where his legs lie open, the curve of his cock up towards his belly, the slightly shadowed area underneath it, the swell of his ass.
Steve looks undone, breathless and sweating, one hand in his own hair pulling lightly, the other flung out, fisting the sheets.
Eddie yearns.
He quickly, finally, shrugs out of his shirt, losing track of where it is the second it’s out of his hands. He crosses to the nightstand, snaps his fingers in front of Steve’s face for his attention.
“Kiss,” he demands, holding out his hand. Steve knows what he means.
Leaning into Eddie, being such a good girl and only moving his head, Steve presses a kiss into each of Eddie’s rings, open mouthed and wet, before Eddie takes them off.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking Steve’s hair with his naked hand, the other, still heavy with rings, falling to trace Steve’s lips.
“Look how hard you are for me, gorgeous boy. Getting Daddy’s hand ready for you.” Steve whimpers, suckles lightly on Eddie’s fingers. “All this time sucking Daddy’s cock and you still want more? Greedy,” Eddie warns, and shoves his fingers to the back of Steve’s throat.
Steve swallows them down easily, expecting it, knowing what Eddie needs before Eddie wants it. Eddie lets Steve suck on his fingers for a moment, fucking them down his throat, before he pulls away.
“Daddy,” Steve whines, trying to chase them. “Want them back, please Daddy, want something in me-”
Eddie debates cutting his baby off with a slap, but he doesn’t want Steve in that kind of headspace when they’re trying something new, so he just gently strokes down Steve’s face.
“Shhh, big boy,” he soothes. “Would it help you to have something to suck on? Keep yourself anchored?”
“Please, Daddy,” Steve replies, whiny and a little grumpy, the same way that would usually get him slapped or spanked. “Need it, need you.”
Eddie turns, roots around in the drawer next to Steve’s bed- they don’t have anything that’s for this specially, so he just grabs anything that his baby could suck on and is close to hand.
He grabs the one plug they own first, brings it out.
“Open up, Princess,” he demands, and when Steve complies, he presses down on Steve’s pretty pink tongue with his fingers, slides the blue silicone in. “You remember how to tell me to stop when you have something in your mouth?” Steve whines, nods, and without prompting knocks three times on the nightstand. “Good girl. If you want to take it out at any point, you can. I won’t be angry. This is for you.”
Steve’s glazed eyes droop into a look of half-lidded drunkenness, lips closing around the plug, just the flared base left outside his lips.
Just for a moment, Eddie thinks about pushing on it, getting his baby to choke on it, but he moves on instead.
He hops on the bed, crouches over Steve, careful not to let their bodies touch apart from his lips against Steve’s skin.
He starts with kissing along his boy’s neck, relishing in those little moans, the uptick in breathing when he slicks his tongue on those beauty spots that drive him insane.
He moves down, bites a bruise into the hollow of Steve’s throat, chuckles at the moan he feels vibrate in the thin skin there. He kisses even further down, trailing a line of wet spit down between Steve’s hairy tits.
He grabs a handful, pushes them together.
“Look at you,” he marvels. “Gorgeous. I love fucking you here,” he pushes his other hand, laid into a line, into the valley of those gorgeous pecs. “What if I get your little nipples all sore for me, chain them together, and fuck you here? I bet you’d tighten up every time I pulled on that chain, wouldn’t you?” Steve moans, thrusts up a little.
Eddie cackles, and shoves his body weight down on Steve’s flat tummy, relishing the feeling of his little exhalation, as though he hasn’t picked Eddie up before, like he can’t hold that weight.
“No,” he says sternly, like he’s training a dog, telling a naughty puppy to not beg for food. Steve whines in response.
“Aw, puppy,” Eddie laughs. “That’s new, baby boy! You wanna be my good little puppy?”
Steve whines again, nods, hair flapping at the ends where it’s not plastered with sweat.
“You’d be anything I want you to be, huh, sweet thing?” He moves his hand out from between Steve’s tits, rubs his ribs and side in slow, soothing motions. “I call you baby, I call you puppy, I call you my little whore who exists just to take my cock…” he laughs. “You just do anything I want, hmm?”
Eddie squeezes Steve’s nipples as tight as he can, twists and pulls enough that Steve’s absolutely going to have bruises there when he’s done. At the thought of it, he twists harder, making his mark.
“Green?” He asks after a particularly hard twist makes Steve cry out.
Steve’s voice is muffled, and he remembers the plug, plucks it out of Steve’s mouth even though he knows Steve could have spit it out to respond or knock on the nightstand if he needed to stop.
“Green,” Steve cries back, unable to control his volume, “thank you Daddy, it’s so good!”
“Aw, Princess,” Eddie smirks, “it’s gonna get better. I need your mouth free for this part, okay baby girl?”
“Yes Daddy,” Steve replies immediately, pressing into Eddie’s hands.
Abandoning Steve’s nipples for the moment, he kisses his way down to Steve’s hips, biting bruises into the mole-speckled skin there, but ignoring Steve’s cock.
He has to wiggle a little down the bed to get to a good position, and makes it intentionally goofy; wiggling back like a worm, grabbing the lube on his way down.
Steve laughs, and it burns Eddie up to know he can make his boy laugh like that. He grins back, wiggles his eyebrows in a way that he’s been told multiple times by Steve and Robin both that makes him look like his face is “being attacked by mating caterpillars, for fucks sake”.
Kissing Steve’s thigh, and biting hard enough to draw blood, is enough to stop the laughter from both of them.
The mood immediately drops back into something hot, a damp heat; the feeling of a summer rainstorm caught between their bodies.
Being between Steve’s legs, in any way he can get there, is a privilege to Eddie.
He’s heard the way Steve has joked with Robin that his thick thighs have saved lives, namely theirs, but Eddie knows it to be true; just looking at them feels as though he’s simultaneously being given an extra ten years of life and about to die if he can’t touch them. They’re golden from the summer sun, but even in winter have a tan complexion that he’s sure isn’t fully American (European, he wonders), soft, with a few white stretch marks from where he had a growth spurt whilst on the swim team.
The hairs there are sparser, where Steve waxed for years for sports, and there’s a few clumpy scars on his left thigh from a demobat bite. They’re pure muscle and Eddie can’t wrap his hands around them fully.
Once, on a dare, Steve had tried to squeeze a watermelon between his thighs to see if he could break it.
He had.
Eddie had gone home that night and furiously jerked off, biting his moans into his pillow, at the fantasy of those thighs wrapped around his head whilst he ate Steve out, squeezing him until his skull cracked open and he died happy. (Eddie wonders, sometimes, if maybe his feral horny brain will kill him some day, but God, what a way to go).
He doesn’t just love Steve’s thighs; he loves his cock, which is a beautiful thing, long and thick and perfect on his tongue; Steve’s balls, which he never thought he’d be such a lover of before he realised how sweet and pliant Steve got when he played with them; the soft, fuzzy swell of his ass cheeks, with those little dimples and freckles and moles, perfect to kiss and turn red and purple with spankings; and Steve’s hole, that furl of muscle that takes everything that Eddie gives it, that he loves to kiss and to fuck.
“Baby,” he meets Steve’s eyes, despite the awkward angle, “are you ready for me?”
“Always,” Steve answers, and it trails off into a moan as Eddie slides two fingers inside.
He’s hot inside, still a little loose from where he cleaned up before Eddie got home, and the sensation of sinking into his baby makes them both sigh. Steve doesn’t let Eddie stay still for long, though, pushing his hips down to meet Eddie’s fingers, riding him as well as he can from his position.
Two fingers isn’t a challenge for Steve, Eddie knows, having given Steve four fingers before, even tucking his thumbs in beside his cock on one memorable occasion, but he wants to wind Steve up as much as he can, make him as physically ready for Eddie as he can be.
He knows they’re both actually nervous about this; not as nervous as they were when they first confessed their feelings or when they first had sex, more like when they first tried this dynamic. They trust each other with their hearts and bodies and lives, but Eddie doesn’t want to hurt Steve and Steve doesn’t want to disappoint Eddie. They both know that they can safeword out, and it’s not a failure or a problem, but it’s hard to rationalise, when they’ve both fantasised about this particular act for so long.
“More, Daddy,” Steve pleads. The words are demanding enough to give Eddie pause, but the tone is what sells him on it, the begging that’s so beautiful on Steve written over his face, in his glazed eyes and wrecked voice.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Eddie soothes. He wants Steve relaxed, happy, taken care of, not desperate and begging. “I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry.”
Pushing in a third finger causes a little resistance, but he works slowly, fucking in and out in small movements, to the first knuckle, then the second. He keeps, with the hand that still has his rings, soothingly stroking over Steve’s tummy, anchoring him with soft touches.
“You’re doing so so well,” he croons, rubbing Steve’s hole before pushing his way back in, relishing the stretch.
Steve looks happy, almost zoned out, drifting in his head, a world of pleasure. Eddie loses track of how long he sits, fingering Steve open; it could be minutes, could be hours, gliding one finger after another into his boy, avoiding his prostate but for a few quick glances when he’s adding a new finger to keep him happy.
The room feels intimate and breathless, just the sounds of Eddie fucking Steve, soft sighs and quiet moans, no words spoken, just the connection of bodies and hearts. He works his way up to all four fingers without a problem, but once he’s there, he has to take a moment and think back to the zines he’s read to prepare.
“Okay, baby,” he breaks the quiet that had fallen over the room, “are you ready for me to try and put my hand in?”
“Yes,” Steve says. “Please, Daddy. I want it.” He wiggles, just a little, as though to prove his point.
“Sure, Princess,” Eddie laughs nervously. “Flip over for me.”
Steve breathes, flips over, and props his hips up with a pillow, letting himself flop down and get as comfortable as he can.
“Comfy, sweetheart?”
“Yes Daddy,” Steve confirms. “Comfy and ready for you.”
“Good boy,” Eddie strokes his clean hand, with the rings, over Steve’s ass, grabs a cheek. “I’m gonna keep fingering you for a bit, okay?”
“Mhm,” Steve nods, looks back over his shoulder. “I’m really good. I’ll tell you if I’m not, okay?”
“Okay,” Eddie nods back, hates how his voice betrays his nerves.
“Hey,” Steve’s voice is gentle. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. No stress, no worries.”
“No,” Eddie barks. “No. I wanna do this, I just- I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’ll tell you if anything hurts,” Steve says, goes to flip onto his back to look at Eddie properly, but Eddie stops him with a hand on his hip.
He accidentally uses the lubed up hand, and Steve scrunches his nose.
“Prissy,” Eddie teases, boops his nose with the tip of his finger. Steve laughs, pretends to bite at it.
They both laugh, and Eddie leans forwards, drops a kiss on Steve’s waiting lips. “I wish I could have you on your back for this,” he sighs into Steve’s mouth. “Wanna look at your face while I wreck you.”
“Next time,” Steve promises, wiggles back onto his front.
They both take deep breaths, steeling away nerves, getting back to where they need to be; although this has become a lot less to do with their dynamic in the bedroom than Eddie thinks they both expected.
This feels more like a journey; Eddie guiding and pushing forwards, but Steve taking his hand and telling him it’s okay, to be brave. They’re moving together as partners as well as playmates.
“I may be overthinking this,” Eddie admits.
“Sweetheart-oh!”
Eddie cuts Steve off by sliding four fingers back inside Steve, tracing where his fingers stretch him wide with his finger other hand.
“There you go,” he smirks. “Look at you, opening up around my hand. But I think I can get more in there, don’t you? I think I can get my entire fist in there.”
Steve whines, thrusts back. Eddie feels better now he’s back on ground he knows, can bring pleasure to his baby in a way he understands.
“I’m gonna get my whole hand in you now,” Eddie tells him, grabbing the lube, getting himself slick. “You’ll tell me if anything hurts, feels strange?”
“Yes Daddy,” Steve breathes out. “I will.”
It’s strange, how easily his hand slides in. Once he has the right shape, more of a beak than a fist, he doesn’t even have to fight resistance; even the widest part of his knuckles glide inside Steve quickly, as though his baby is making space for him inside his body, letting Eddie carve out room for himself in any way he wants.
When his hand, his entire hand, is inside, he looks away from where they’re joined; the way Steve’s hole has curled back tight to his wrist makes him want to bay at the moon.
Steve himself is whining, crying, a chant of “uh, uh, uh” leaving him as he holds himself still, entire body shaking.
“Is it good,” Eddie doesn’t have to ask, his voice flat and raspy.
“So good,” Steve wails. “Daddy I can feel you- you’re in my chest, I can feel you in my throat, you’re so big-”
He falls silent again, rolling his head on the pillow, hands fisting and relaxing in the sheets.
“You’re such a good boy,” Eddie pants. “You’re incredible, taking my entire hand, fuck!”
Without his say so his hips rabbit forward, just once, his cock so hard he feels like just a touch would have him cumming.
“Are you ready for me to actually…”
“Please,” Steve cries, “please do it, I can’t-”
Eddie slowly, glacially, begins moving his fingers, curling inwards, bringing in, guided by the way Steve’s moans become more and more desperate. A look down from his hole, red and puffy and tight around the bone of Eddie’s wrist, has Eddie moaning; Steve’s cock is dark and heavy, purple at the head, and drooling onto the bed.
He has a moment where he wants to sink in, arrange himself so he can suck Steve’s cock down, feel it drool down his throat as he massages Steve’s prostate with his fist.
Steve’s cock jumps the second that Eddie gets his hand into a fist, spurts again. “Fuck!”
“Good girl,” Eddie breathes. “You’re so good for me, taking my entire goddamn fist. Precious little Princess, not even shut up when I put my entire hand in her.”
Steve whines, his entire body melting into the bed, falling down from his knees onto his arms, unable to keep himself upright. Eddie grabs Steve’s hip with his free hand, helps him settle into a comfortable position.
“There we go; nice and comfy,” he croons.
The pillow underneath Steve has his hips slanted in a way that Eddie can still reach down and touch Steve’s cock, when he wants.
He wants to play with Steve a little bit longer first, though.
Eddie finally, slowly, starts to move, rubbing his fist forward and back, tiny little movements of his wrist, but Steve reacts like he’s fucking him deeply, twisting his hands in the sheets, wailing, throwing his head back and forth.
“Yes!” Steve howls. “Daddy!”
“Oh, gorgeous,” Eddie moans. “Look at you, all helpless and sweet for me. If I’d known all I had to do to make you this gorgeous was put my fist in you, I’d have done it so much sooner.”
Steve whines.
“Not that you’re not gorgeous all the time, sweet boy. But God, you’re just the most beautiful, all covered in sweat.”
He bends over and trails his tongue down, from Steve’s sweat soaked hairline, all the way down the nobs of Steve’s spine, down, down, licks the perspiration from the dip where spine meets ass, and then trails down, licks around his own wrist, then slips his tongue, hot and wet, inside right next to his hand, close enough he can feel his own pulse beating.
Steve screams, tightens up, and comes, without a hand on his cock, just Eddie’s fist and tongue inside him.
His entire body undulates, hips rabbiting forwards and back, muscles clenching and loosening, head rolling forward; Eddie can feel his hole clenching and relaxing with each spurt of cum; there’s so much of it, rope after rope, matting the hair on Steve’s belly, staining into the sheets under him.
Usually, Steve can keep going if he’s come just from prostate stimulation alone. Eddie doesn’t want to push his baby any more than he already has tonight, so he gently keeps moving his hand inside Steve until he finishes with a final gasping moan, and then stills, letting his baby come back down.
“You good, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, lets his voice drop low and soothing. If Steve is done now, he’s done; Eddie can wait, even though he’s so hard he could hammer nails.
“Daddy,” Steve breathes. “So good.”
“Do you want me to stay inside you, or do you want me to pull out?”
Offering Steve choices is usually the best way to go when he’s so far into subspace and he’s just come.
“I don’t know,” Steve whines. “It’s so much but I don’t wanna be empty.”
Eddie hums. He knows he’s gotta fix this, that his job as Steve’s Daddy is to solve problems and make sure his princess is as happy and looked after as he can possibly be.
His decision comes to him, and he takes a deep breath, forces confidence, hopes that he’s making the right decision. “I’m gonna pull out, baby,” he tells Steve, “but I’ll be right back in with a couple of fingers, how about that?”
“Yes, Daddy, please,” Steve whines.
“Okay, Princess,” Eddie strokes Steve’s flank as he pulls his hand out, soothes the fucked out whine with his hand, kisses a mole on his buttcheek. Before his fingers have even left Steve’s body, he turns his hand, fucks back in; three fingers slide back in with complete ease, and Steve whines, long and low.
“There we go, baby girl,” he hums. “Nice and full for Daddy.”
Steve’s body is hot around him, and the lube makes everything slick, the noise of Eddie fucking Steve loud in the room above their breathing. It takes Eddie only a few minutes of fingering Steve before he realises Steve is close.
He wants to laugh at his baby for being such a slut for him, but he feels like he’s close himself, and he hasn’t even touched his cock, hasn’t had any kind of stimulation other than pleasing Steve since he came down Steve’s throat.
“Baby,” he slaps his free hand on Steve’s thick thigh, watching the imprint of his rings on tan skin, “I want to come. I want to do it inside you, and I want to see you when I do.”
Steve doesn’t protest when Eddie pulls his fingers out and rolls Steve onto his back. He does whine, however, when Eddie pulls himself off the bed to stand at the end of it, pulling Steve down so that his legs are wrapped around Eddie, feet near Eddie’s shoulders.
Like this, Eddie can see everything he wants to; Steve’s cock, hard and pulsing against his belly, the shake of Steve’s thighs, the stretched out glisten of his hole. He doesn’t manage to hold back a moan looking at how he’s wrecked his baby.
“Look at your pretty little cunt, darlin,” he feels his words come out slow and sweet, syrup on his tongue. “You’re so stretched out, how am I supposed to come fucking that?”
It’s an exaggeration, as whilst there’s a tempting glimpse of the inside of Steve, he’d still be warm and wet for Eddie, and tight enough to be wrapped up in. He thinks Steve will like this more, though. Or maybe not like it, but they’ll both get off on it.
“Since you’re such a slut you can’t even be tight enough for me to fuck, I’m just going to sit here and jerk off. Aww, baby,” he says when Steve lets out a little whine. “You’re still going to get your cum, you whore. How about this? I just pop the tip in so I can give you what you need, and I get to fuck something that isn’t so loose. How about that?”
Steve nods.
“Nope! Princess, what do you say to Daddy?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Steve moans out.
“And what else? Maybe a thank you for still coming in you, even though you’re such a slut I doubt you could even feel it?”
“Thank you for coming in me, Daddy,” his baby girl repeats obediently. “You’re so good to me.”
“Damn right,” Eddie smirks, slaps Steve’s ass, and leaves his hand splayed there, fingers just tapping his hole, keeping him possessively trapped under his hand. “Good girl.”
He looks down at Steve’s hole, spits down. Grabbing his cock in his lubed hand, the other stays locked on Steve’s ass, keeping him spread wide. Eddie guides his cock to Steve’s hole, rubs the head over that furled muscle. He teases Steve, dipping in and out.
He laughs, “Can you feel me? Fucking you with just the tip, like you’re a virgin? A good little church girl, like you’re not a filthy slut who lets me fuck her stretched out cunt whenever or however I want?”
“Just for you,” Steve whines back, pushing up, trying to get Eddie deeper. “Please, Daddy, I’ve been so good, I want it.”
“No,” Eddie snaps, and quick as a whip smacks his hand across Steve’s thigh, a bright red handprint blossoming in his wake.
Steve has no leverage in this position, no actual hope of getting Eddie where he wants him, but it’s the disrespect, the way he knows what Eddie wants and chooses to misbehave anyway.
The way Steve tenses around the head of his cock when he registers the pain is magic.
“You know what Daddy wants,” he snarls. “But you’re so desperate for it that you more going to ignore what I say?”
“I’m sorry,” Steve cries, tears rolling from his eyes, down his temples, into his hair.
“Daddy I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie soothes. He doesn’t want to actually make Steve sad, doesn’t want him to feel anything but happy about this scene. “It’s okay sweetheart, Daddy knows you’re sorry. I know, I know. It’s not your fault you’re such a dumb slut, is it? Daddy’ll make it better, don’t worry.”
His clean hand swipes Steve’s tears away, strokes the knots out of his hair. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. There we go.”
“Sorry,” Steve sniffles. “Green.”
“Good girl,” Eddie says. “I’m going to press pause for a second. I know you’re okay,” he adds when Steve looks like he’s going to protest, “but I’m not. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and I’m sorry. This isn’t time for that.”
“It’s okay,” Steve smiles, still dopey and fucked out. “I was being bad.”
“You’re the best,” Eddie leans down, pecks a kiss to Steve’s nose, huffing a laugh when Steve goes cross eyed trying to follow him with his eyes.
“My best baby,” Eddie drops his voice back into a croon, starts pushing in and out, gentle waves of movement, not even getting an inch deep inside as he fucks.
He has the room, with Steve’s legs around his shoulders and cunt spread wide, to stroke himself, through his fist and back, getting stimulation from the soft heat and his own palm all the way down his cock.
It’s incredible, both having stimulation on his cock after too long without, but also the way Steve moans under him, the way he knows Steve feels used up and filthy and under-stimulated.
Steve is hard, twitching, leaking against his tummy, made easier by the way his hips are pointing nearly upside down.
Eddie would love to taste, but he’s not quite flexible or coordinated enough to keep jacking off, barely fucking Steve, and bend enough to take Steve’s cock into his throat the way he wants to.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie gets Steve’s attention with just the imploring tone of his voice, “gimme your hand.”
Steve holds out one of his hands, removing it from where he’s been anchoring himself to the sheets, and Eddie runs Steve’s fingers through the precum gathering on his tummy, brings Steve’s hand into his mouth, moans around thick fingers at the taste.
Steve throws his head back and whines, free hand fisting his hair and pulling, whimpering and thrusting into the sensation. Eddie can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his orgasm building in his gut with each dip inside Steve, each stroke of his cock through his lubed up palm.
“Oh, you’re so good for me,” he moans, fucking the tip of his cock into Steve and holding it there, moving his hand over himself faster. “Look at you, with your fucked out hole, waiting for Daddy’s cum.”
Steve writhes on the bed, the picture of sin, an embodiment of lust. Eddie stops fucking Steve, just keeps the head of his cock inside, one hand stroking down the length of his dick, the other sneaking up to play with his own nipples, then up into his hair; the sweet pain of a pinch and a pull at each pushes him over the edge.
He doesn’t let himself follow the instinct to grind further into that heat, doesn’t let Steve’s hips push down onto him further.
He wants Steve to feel like he’s filthy, too used up to be worth any kind of pleasure but taking his Daddy’s cum, just a hole for breeding.
“I’m gonna get you pregnant, baby girl,” he moans. “Push my cum into you even though you’re too much of a whore to give me pleasure. Still want a go at knocking you up, keeping you fat and full of my cum.”
Steve wails, throws his head back, hips not quite pumping enough to sink further on Eddie’s cock, just wanting stimulation on his own leaking dick.
“Shh, love,” Eddie soothes. “I’ll get you off, I just want to come in you first.”
Eddie keeps thrusting, wants to take a hand and pull his own hair and pinch his own nipples, really get deep into it the way he does when he’s alone, but he’s so close already, and stroking over the soft skin of Steve’s hip is, even though it’s nothing but contact between his own calluses fingertips and Steve’s soft, chubby hip, somehow, better than anything he’s ever felt by himself. He seizes, feels the wave of pleasure about to crash, and, finally, lets himself sink deep inside his baby, pushing his cock as deep into that tight heat as he physically can.
“Oh!” Steve lets out a punched out moan, tightens up around Eddie, milks him for all he can give from his second orgasm of the night.
It’s lovely, the way his baby tightens up for him, tries to make it as good as possible for him even when he’s being, objectively, quite mean.
Eddie loves him, he loves him, he loves him.
“Well done, sweetheart,” Eddie pants. “You did so good for daddy, you really are the best girl.”
Steve looks a mess, completely ruined, sweat and tears mingling on his face, precum and semen matting his pubic hair, and Eddie’s cum, cooling in and around his hole. He’s still upright, hips tilted, so nothing is dripping out of him, just sinking further down inside him, so deep Eddie doesn’t think it’ll ever come out.
Steve’s cock is still hard, slapping at his stomach as Steve makes the tiniest thrusts with his hips, trying to push Eddie’s softening cock against his prostate, humping the air in a desperate hope for a whisper of sensation on his cock.
“This’ll definitely get you pregnant,” Eddie soothes, pulling out smoothly, stroking along Steve’s belly, a little comfort alongside the desperation he wants Steve to feel before he makes him come again.
“Look at you, all full up and still wanting more. Here you go, sweetheart.”
He pushes his fingers back inside, keeping Steve’s hole full (or at least not empty, he muses, since he doesn’t think Steve could at this point feel full on three fingers after he just took a fist) and plugged.
“Daddy,” Steve pleads, and he looks like he’s been crying for a while, eyes puffy and red and still leaking. He’s a mess with his hair, that famous perfectly coiffed hair, never out of place or looking anything but stunning, now a rats nest on his head to rival Eddie’s where he’s been shifting on the sheets, flushed high on his cheekbones to down by his nipples, brown, pebbled, and puffy, darkening to bruised where Eddie had played with them cruelly what feels like years ago.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie breathes. “You’re so gorgeous fucked out for me like this.”
He wants to savour it, but Steve looks particularly desperate, and he doesn’t want to make his baby wait for long since he’s been so good, taken everything Eddie had to give him and then let Eddie take his pleasure in the most selfish way.
Instead of being mean and forcing Steve to wait, he swoops down and takes Steve’s cock into his throat, bypassing his gag reflex and sinking down as quickly as he can. Steve’s legs seize around his shoulders, and he pulls back and off, lets Steve drop his legs back onto the bed and settles between them.
“Good girl,” he whispers gently. “Let daddy make you come now, sweetheart. You’ve done so so well.”
Steve’s cock is gorgeous, fat and long and uncut, leaking at the head. When Eddie swallows around it it makes his jaw ache, sends a hot line down his throat, like before he gets ill and can feel every breath to his lungs, but so so much better.
He loves doing this, loves having Steve at the mercy of his mouth, giving exactly as much pleasure as he wants to, forcing his baby towards an orgasm as quickly or as slowly as he wants.
“Daddy,” Steve moans, one hand fisting into Eddie’s hair, pulling sharply the way he knows Eddie likes, the other scratching over his chest, pulling on the chest hair there, pushing his fingertips into the bruises Eddie has left on his nipples.
Eddie strokes his fingers over Steve’s hip, right next to where his lips rest in Steve’s pubic hair, and has a moment of internal amusement when he realises that the hand he’s using is still adorned with his rings. His other hand scrabbles on the bed, and after a few seconds of awkward groping finds what he’s looking for.
He slides the plug into Steve’s hole as gently as he can, trying to keep his come inside; it’s also to help Steve come down, because he himself knows the emptiness after Steve has pulled out, and he can’t imagine how it must feel after his entire hand, then his cock, has stretched Steve open and then left him there, to close around nothing.
“Thank you Daddy,” Steve gasps, clenching around the plug, and starts to fuck up with his hips, then back down onto the plug, seemingly unsure as to which way he really wants to go, which pleasure is the best, Eddie’s warm, wet throat around his cock or the insistent press against his prostate.
It doesn’t take long for Steve to fall quiet, the only sounds the wet click of Eddie bobbing on Steve’s cock and Steve’s gasping breaths.
He’s startled into a scream when Eddie, sensing his baby is so close he can’t even speak, can’t moan, can only lie back and take it, reaches down and presses against the flared base of the plug with his fingers.
Steve’s scream is low and hoarse, more like a bellow, and he comes completely dry into Eddie’s waiting mouth.
He falls worryingly silent when he’s finished, his entire body shaking, breath heaving.
“Baby?” Eddie pulls away from Steve’s cock, not bothering to clean him up yet; that’s for when he’s sure Steve is okay.
Steve thumps his hand against the bed, a shaking thumbs up.
“Can you talk?”
A thumbs down.
“Are you okay?”
Steve thumbs up, then again, then forms an okay symbol with his thumb and first finger.
“Perfect,” Eddie praises, sliding up the bed to take Steve into his arms. “Well done sweetheart.”
Steve looks completely fucked out, still shaking, sweat and tears muddling on his face and forehead, drying tear tracks running into his hair, which is wet with sweat, pushed into odd spikes in some places and plastered to his head in others. His face is bright red, a flush that spreads down his neck, all the way to his nipples, and below that, his pale belly, smeared with lube and cum, his treasure trail and pubic hair matted with it.
He looks incredible, an acolyte of sin who lets Eddie worship at his altar- and maybe he’s getting his metaphors mixed, but he’s just fist-fucked his baby to orgasm and come twice himself; he’s not at his most coherent.
“Let me know when you can talk again, babygirl,” Eddie soothes, finally taking the last of his rings off and gently stroking his thumb over the bone of Steve’s hip.
He’s so silken here, a secret softness, next to his treasure trail of scratchy hair, by his dipped scars, a visceral reminder of their trauma.
Eddie can’t help but fix his mouth over that little spot, suck a bruise in the shape of his mouth to go with the ones he’s left in the shape of his fingers on Steve’s thighs.
Steve inhales sharply, a gasp of pleasurable pain, flinches away, but catches himself immediately and stays where he is, letting his Daddy take his fill. Eddie is too tired, bone deep and weary for another round, but he knows he has a job to do; get Steve cleaned up and settled into bed.
He can’t lift Steve’s weight completely, despite being stronger than he looks, so he gets up and grabs a washcloth from Steve’s en suite they use for specifically this purpose.
Cleaning Steve is an act of worship for Eddie; he starts with Steve’s brow, washing the sweat away, then lower, to his cheeks, wiping away tears, then to his mouth and chin. He goes further, then, once Steve’s face is clean (he knows Steve would rather die than break out in spots, since he had kept his complexion so perfect throughout high school), he moves down.
This is, he has to admit, his least favourite part; gently smoothing Steve’s chest and navel hairs free of cum and sweat and spit so that he won’t tangle or wake up to anything crusted in. It feels like wiping away the evidence he’s ever been there, that Steve will no longer have as many physical reminders of his presence, of the pleasure he laid upon Steve, the way Eddie made him his. Only the stretch of his hole and bite marks and fingerprint bruises.
Once thats soothed, he moves down to his favourite part; cleaning Steve’s cock and cunt. He’s still soft, no chance of getting it up again tonight, but his cock is beautiful even then, still thick and long, just gentler somehow, lying soft against his thigh. He gently runs the cloth over the sensitive head, waiting out Steve’s instinctive flinch, down the shaft, making sure to clean every last drop of cum and lube.
He cleans over Steve’s balls, then between his thighs down to his pretty cunt. Steve’s hole is still red and puffy, where he’s closed around the plug, and so much cum and lube has him sticky and cold.
Eddie wipes him down carefully, with as much affection as he can, trying to show his love with every warm wipe, taking care of his baby. Once he’s done, he drops the cloth down the side of the bed; he can grab it in the morning, but right now, Steve is the most important.
Even with the towels, he can tell immediately the bed will have to be changed- the wet spot is more like a wet lake, and the pillows are soaked dark with sweat.
“C’mon baby,” he whispers. “Let’s go have a little lie down where it’s clean, and I’ll grab you a snack when you’re ready, okay?”
Steve nods, hums out an affirmative, but doesn’t seem ready to talk again just yet. That’s fine. Eddie isn’t worried, even though this is the longest it’s been before Steve has been able to speak after his Daddy’s fucked him stupid.
He’s not strong enough to carry Steve, all densely packed muscle and wide shoulders and weight of the world, so he settles for helping him up, bearing as much weight as he can so Steve can stumble with him on shaky legs to the spare bedroom, lays him down on clean, dry sheets, covers tucked low around his waist.
Steve isn’t ready for Eddie to leave him yet, so he slips beneath the covers too, and there they lie, two nude bodies pressed together against the weight of the world.