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dame-zoom-a-lot · 10 hours

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Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 3

Prompts: Rough & Aftercare

Words: 1,404

Rated: E

Tags: Roleplay; Consensual non-con; Mean dom!Steve; Sub!Eddie; Face fucking; Hair pulling; Slapping; Degradation; Humiliation; Coming in pants; Aftercare

“You know why I called you here?” Steve asks.

Eddie hums. The sound comes out shaky and too high, distorted by the bundle of nerves lodged in his throat.

“Not to ask my opinion on your interior design choices, I hope,” he says, gesturing at the checkered atrocity lining the walls. “I mean, I dunno what's considered chique in your circles, but this-”

“Don’t play smart with me, Munson.”

Steve whirls on him, and Eddie's feet stumble a step back without his conscious permission. The backs of his knees bump against something soft and then, before he knows it, he's sitting on the bed with Steve looming above him. That pretty mouth twists into a haughty smile.

“Selling drugs to my team on the night before the big game?” Steve asks, voice gravelly and low. His varsity jacket rustles as he brackets his hands on either side of Eddie’s legs. “Are you fucking serious?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, hoping that the hammering of his heart won't betray him. “What are you, their mom? Gimme a-”

Steve puts one large hand on his thigh and squeezes, and the words give way to a pained hiss.

“I am their captain,” Steve says. He smells faintly of chlorine and shampoo. “And I wonder what the coach would say about this. Or the principal for that matter.”

Eddie can practically feel himself go pale.

“No,” he breathes. “Nonono, c’mon, dude! You know Higgins has it out for me, I can't afford another fucking suspension. Can't we just forget about it? Please, I'll do-”

“Oh,” Steve says. “Now you can say please? I like that.”

The fingers digging into Eddie’s thigh shift inwards, and Eddie’s heart kicks against his ribcage.

“Hey, stop it,” he blurts. “What are you-”

Steve slaps him. Not very hard - just enough to leave Eddie’s face stinging with pain and humiliation. The feeling pools at the base of his spine, hot and tight, and his cock throbs against Steve’s hand.

“Now,” Steve says. “What were you about to say? You'd do what, exactly?”

Eddie blinks at him.

The second slap is harder than the first. It sends his head flying to the side, hair whipping with the movement. Steve takes a fistful of curls and pulls, forcing him to meet his eye again.

“You'd do anything? Is that what you were going to say?”

Eddie tries to speak, but all that leaves his lips is a pathetic whimper. His ears are ringing and his scalp is burning where Steve is yanking on his hair. He's embarrassingly, painfully hard.

“You look so dumb with your mouth hanging open like that,” Steve scoffs. “Might as well put it to some use.”

“Wha-?” Eddie stammers, but it turns into a yelp when Steve gives his head a hard shove.

“On your knees. You want me to forget about this, make me.”

The impact of his knees hitting the carpet makes his teeth clack together and sends the room spinning. Above him, Steve laughs, holding his head in place with one hand and undoing his pants with the other. The thick, heady smell of arousal hits Eddie before Steve even pulls himself out, punching another breathy whine from his throat.

“God, look at you,” Steve murmurs, and there's something swimming in his voice that's dangerously close to awe. “You're actually getting off on this, aren't you?”

“Please,” Eddie says again. He isn't even sure what he's asking for. Please stop? Please keep going? He doesn't know, and Steve doesn’t leave him any time to find out. Instead, he wraps one thick strand of hair around his fist, so tight that Eddie can feel his scalp give under the pull, and uses the ensuing gasp of pain to shove his cock into Eddie’s mouth.

The first thrust hits the back of his throat, making him gag and turning his moan into a wet gurgle. He instinctively tries to pull off, but Steve makes a harsh “tsk” sound, holding him in place with the hand fisted in his hair.

He keeps him there until Eddie’s eyes water and drool begins to gather around the warm, heavy weight on his tongue. Just as Eddie thinks he’s about to run out of air, he starts to move.

Tangling his other hand in Eddie’s hair as well, he pulls him back, allowing him just enough time to draw a choking breath before he slams him back down on his cock again, and again, and again. Eddie struggles, briefly, but then he goes limp in Steve’s hold, forcing himself to relax his throat, to settle into the relentless rhythm, to let his mind go blank and just let Steve take what he wants. When he braces his hands on Steve’s hips for support, Steve chuckles and wedges of foot between his thighs, hissing in pleasure when Eddie moans around his cock.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, taking it so well. Gonna come now, yeah? You gonna swallow for me? Wanna see you swallow.”

Eddie moans again, tapping Steve’s thigh twice, and Steve shudders apart above him with a hoarse scream, the bitter, salty taste of his relief exploding all over Eddie’s tongue. Eddie swallows it in long, greedy gulps, throat bobbing with the motion. When Steve releases his hold, allowing him to pull back, he licks up the drops that have escaped with his tongue, one long, thorough drag at a time. Steve sighs in bliss and tips his head back, fingers running through Eddie’s hair, massaging soothing circles into his stinging scalp.

“You good, baby?”

Eddie, currently busy with sucking the last traces of come off Steve's tip, hums vaguely, head too fuzzy for words. When Steve huffs and drops to his knees, he whines in protest.

“Hey,” Steve says, cradling his head in both hands, fingers ghosting over the spots that are still raw and tingly where he hit him. His brow is furrowed in concern, his touch as gentle as his voice. It makes Eddie’s eyes sting again, but for entirely different reasons. “Hey, talk to me. I wasn't too- Fuck, Eddie, I didn't hurt you, did I?”

His eyes are large and round and worried like those of a confused puppy dog, and Eddie’s head is so ridiculously tingly, he can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of him.

“Only in the best ways, big boy,” he slurs, breaking into a fresh fit of giggles at the way his voice comes out, all hoarse and wrecked from Steve's cock.

Steve's face is full of fond exasperation as he leans closer, brushing his lips over Eddie’s burning cheeks.

“You're impossible, y’know that?” he mutters, pressing a long, lingering kiss to Eddie’s lips, making a face when he tastes himself there.

“I know,” Eddie winks. “Luckily, you know how to put me in my place, huh?”

“Yeah, right,” Steve snorts, pulling them both to their feet. Eddie’s legs feel like jelly, and so he ends up cradled against Steve’s chest, cheek squished into the soft fabric of the varsity jacket. “Right now, the only place I wanna put you is the shower.”

He sends a pointed look at the dark, wet spot staining the crotch of Eddie’s jeans.

“Yes, captain,” Eddie quips, attempting a mock salute that almost makes him topple. Steve rolls his eyes, ignoring Eddie’s surprised yelp as he scoops him up bridal style to carry him towards the bathroom.

“You enjoyed it then?”

Eddie looks up to find Steve’s eyes trained ahead, the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks.

“Well, duh,” he says. “Why you askin’? You aren't still worried-”

“No,” Steve blurts. He pauses to set Eddie down and flick on the bathroom lights, licking his lips before he continues. “Yes. I always worry about you, you know that. It's just, I…”

He trails off, blush darkening as he chews on his bottom lip. Then, so quietly Eddie needs to strain his ears to catch it, he mutters, “Maybe I'd like to … y’know … try it the other way round, some time.”

Eddie feels his face split into a grin, so wide his cheeks start hurting all over again.

“You know what?” he says, reaching out to undo Steve’s pants again. “I love that. Next time, I’m gonna be the big, bad drug dealer and you won’t have any money to pay for your fix.”

If the way Steve’s cock twitches in his hand is any indication, this is an excellent idea.

More smutty September

#this transition <3

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 10 hours

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Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics.

No Loose Ends

Week #3 Prompt: Sneaking Around | Word Count: 6500 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Post S4, Sexual Content, Underage Recreational Alcohol and Weed Use | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Florida!!!, Hiding Out, Healing, Steve & The Boys of Corroded Coffin Taking Care of Eddie, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson

Song inspiration to fill the @steddiesongfics prompt is FLORIDA!!! by Taylor Swift feat. Florence & The Machine:

Little did you know, Your home's really only the town you'll get arrested, So you pack your life away, Just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas Indiana

Steve's almost eight hours into the twelve hour drive, when he starts looking for another gas station. The smaller the better. One with a cashier who would rather be anywhere else other than at work behind the counter, and who in turn, won't be paying any attention to anything going on around them.

Not that he's wanted, or being looked for, because he's not. He's just being extra careful. Trying to garner no additional eyes on his car, or himself, if possible. No speeding, no rolling through stop signs. He's never driven this carefully in his entire life, and he feels tense from it.

It gives him a glimpse of what it might be like, sometime in the future, if he's in charge of hauling around six of his own little nuggets.

But that's not today. Today he's just in charge of one, well two, other people.

And himself. But he's used to being in charge of himself, since he has been, since basically forever.

If everything goes smoothly tonight, nobody's even gonna realize he's been out of town. Only Robin knows, and she's running interference with everybody else. Giving excuses for why they haven't seen him all day. Just buying him the time to get down, and back, without being missed.

The next filling station is a little raggedy, but exactly what he wants. Probably no cameras. Perfect.

He parks alongside the pump, and pulls up on the handle, starting to fill his tank. He looks in the backseat, and the bundled up figure moves under the blanket, shifting. It's dark under the poorly-lit canopy, three of the six fluorescent bulbs are out, and it makes it look just a little bit spooky. But even better, unless you were looking for him, you'd never see the slightly moving lump in the backseat.

And nobody's looking for him. Not anymore.

Thank fucking god.

Steve pays for the gas, and grabs drinks. Back in the car, he puts his own Coke in the cup holder, then lays the Mountain Dew in the backseat floorboard for when Eddie wakes up, and finally slides the Dr. Pepper into the passenger side cup holder.

He doesn't know Gareth Jones, not really, and it has taken everything he has to trust him. But Eddie couldn't be left alone, not yet, and Steve had asked who could they trust, and Gareth had been Eddie's answer.

Now he's asleep, head against the window, and Steve pulls back out onto the two-lane road, and keeps heading south.

They pull up in the driveway of the dark house, and Steve kills the engine.

"We're here," he says, and Eddie stirs in the backseat.

Eddie can barely walk. Once they've gotten him out of the car, he can only shuffle along, blanket over his shoulders. Together, they hold him up on both sides. The sand surrounding the beach house is not making it easier for him to move, Steve can tell. Steve has to try three keys before the door swings open, but they get him inside. Steve's not satisfied until Eddie's on the couch of his grandparent's vacation home in Destin, the city they swear is gonna become a tourist hot spot in the coming years.

So, the elder Harringtons scooped up a waterfront home that they only use once or twice a year, swearing it's an investment they'll be able to turn a profit on in the future. Steve doesn't care about that, but he is glad they have it right now, so they have a place Eddie can lay low.

It's a little musty from being shut-up, but it'll do.

Especially since there's no chance anybody in his family will turn up, since they're all in Europe right now without him. That left it just sitting empty, the perfect place to stash Eddie long enough to wait out the shitstorm back in Indiana.

Nobody knows he survived. Not the public, and barely any of their friends. Not even Wayne. Not yet. It's easier to keep a secret when you don't know the truth, as guilty as that makes Steve feel.

But right now, he can't dwell on that. Today, Steve's gonna try to get him holed up in here, and then figure out a more permanent solution once Eddie's back on his feet.

He can't dwell on the rest of them, or his guilt will eat him alive. Knowing Wayne's mourning his nephew. Knowing that Dustin is going through hell. Steve hopes they'll both forgive him, when the truth comes out. Eddie swears Wayne will. Says he'll understand. Says he'll only be relieved that Eddie's safe, and well.

Steve hopes that's true.

He knows he'll be in for an ass-chewing from Dustin, but that's nothing new. He can handle that.

Steve gets Eddie situated. A blanket. Some pillows. A drink. All while Gareth looks around the house, snooping, and it sets Steve on edge. He's a kid. Is he really gonna trust a kid to keep Eddie safe? Alive? He supposes he is. It's not like he has any other choice.

Gareth's older than Steve was when he got involved in the Upside Down. But still. Kid.

Steve can't stay long. He takes a nap, and then gets back on the road before he's missed. Back in his bed in Hawkins before anyone has started asking any real questions that Robin can't deflect.

A week later, when Steve steps out of his front door, Pop Tart in his mouth, he nearly chokes when he sees two guys leaning against his car. Jeff and…the other one. Steve's drawing a blank. They're Eddie's friends, but as far as Steve knew, they'd evacuated with the rest of the town.

Out of the way, not a concern. But, here they are.

People are starting to come back, Steve's noticed, now that the town is rebuilding after the earthquake damage. If they have houses to return to, lots of them are doing just that.

He should have expected this.

Well, not this. Because they shouldn't know Eddie's alive or that Steve might be a person to talk to about anything.

"Uh, hey?" Steve says as he pulls the dry pastry out of his mouth, trying to chew it up, and buy himself some time.

"Where's Gareth?" the one that isn't Jeff asks.

"Um, Gareth who?" Steve asks.

Jeff laughs, showing a mouth full of braces.

"Gareth Jones. He's not with his mom, and she thinks he's with you."

Steve tenses. That little shit. Gareth told his mom the truth? What the fuck? For real. That wasn't the plan. At all.

What a dumbass kid. He can't believe he has to trust him with Eddie's safety. Clearly, he's doing a bang-up job.

Steve looks around, "Don't see him, do you?" Steve asks, sliding back into his King Steve persona easier than he'd imagine he'd be able to after a few years.

"Harrington," Jeff says.

"He's not with me," Steve says, which is true. "I don't even know him." Also true.

"If you have Eddie. If he's out there somewhere, you're gonna take us to him," the other one says. Goldie? Steve thinks his name is Goldie. Goldwin, maybe? Gareth was talking, and he's sure he mentioned him, but Gareth talked a lot. Steve zoned out.

"Or we're going to the cops."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't actually think they'll do that, but fuck, what does he know? He cannot risk that. He'd rather tell them what he knows, than have any officials poking holes in their story.

He makes a decision, one he hopes he won't regret.

"Okay, Goldie, get in," Steve says, resigned to this, but Jeff laughs loudly, mouth open as the guy who is probably not Goldie by his reaction, jabs Jeff in the ribs with his elbow.

"Goodie," Jeff corrects, "but that was closer than most get."

In the car, Steve squeezes the steering wheel.

"Where is he?" Jeff asks.

"Florida," Steve answers.

"Florida?" Goodie demands, and Steve just nods.

"He's healing. Gareth's with him. You can't tell anyone," Steve stresses. "If the government finds out. They'll, well. Dispose of him, I reckon. No loose ends."

And Steve starts from the beginning.

They worked out a schedule. Every week they'll switch. And somehow Steve is stuck making the long fucking haul in the dead of night, with one of them in his passenger seat. It's awkward. He doesn't know them, and they definitely don't like him.

This week it's Jeff Williams. Honestly, he's nice enough, but Steve runs out of things to say before they hit the Indiana state line.

The long haul back has Gareth jabbering nonstop about what they did this week. All Steve really wants to hear is updates on Eddie. Is he getting better? Are his wounds healing? Still no infection? Did you help him change the bandages he can't reach? Can he climb the stairs yet?

But he's having trouble getting those answers. He does learn all about the new Accept album, though. Whoever the fuck that is.

The third week is even worse, because hauling around Goodie Goodwin is like having an angry bear locked in the car with him. A brown bear, not a black one. He's fucking pissed, and snarky, and only belligerently agreeing to help for Eddie's sake. Not for Steve's. He's made that abundantly clear.

He hates Steve, in case Steve needs it spelled out for him.

Steve does not.

It's definitely clear.

Super duper clear.

Crystal clear.

And that's fine. Eddie just needs a babysitter, and an angry bear will do, so long as Eddie trusts said bear, and he seems to, for whatever reason.

When they fucking finally pull up, after a twelve hour drive that felt more like twenty-four, Eddie's sitting on the covered porch, the color finally seeping back in his face. Goodie sits down in the glider right next to Eddie, and steals Eddie's lit cigarette right from his mouth. Eddie leans against his shoulder, face pressed into his very weather inappropriate leather jacket, and smiles.

Oh, so now he's a gentle giant.

Fucking dickhead.

Hauling Jeff back to Hawkins is a breath of fresh air after twelve hours of having Chernabog in the passenger seat. And he actually gives helpful information. Eddie's doing great. He's made some real progress, and he probably doesn't need a babysitter much longer. He's getting out of the woods.

Steve wishes he knew that before he had to spend time in the car with Goodie, but it's still good news, even if Steve had to suffer.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone this week?" Steve asks, and he doesn't know what he'll do if the answer is no. Leave Goodie for a second week of duty? Stay himself?

"I'm fine, Harrington," Eddie promises, and Steve nods.

"Okay, then. I'll be back next weekend," Steve assures.

Steve worries about Eddie being alone the whole next week, and it's a long drive by himself, but not as long as it was with Goodie refusing to make even the smallest of small talk.

Goodie didn't say a word for the eight hundred miles back to Hawkins.

Honestly, it was actually an improvement from the ride down.

When Steve pulls up the house, Eddie's on the porch again, and Steve wonders if this is where he spends most of his time. There don't seem to be any neighbors here right now close enough to see him, and even if there were, they wouldn't know the Harringtons well enough to be sure Eddie didn't belong.

"Harrington," Eddie says, foot pushing slowly, keeping himself in a soft sway on the porch glider.

Steve sits down next to him, and then Eddie keeps them moving, the breeze coming through the porch, and not feeling bad at all.

"Ocean air is healing, you know," Eddie says as if he's serious, and Steve smiles.

"Is the gulf considered an ocean?" Steve asks.

And Eddie just shrugs and grins back, shaking another pack of cigarettes out of the fresh carton Steve brought him. Steve feels like a pack mule, hauling food and smokes and beer, back and forth across several states.

"Closest thing I've ever seen to one, at least," Eddie says, and Steve has the fleeting thought that someday, Steve will change that.

He doesn't know why. They aren't really friends or anything. Just two people that were thrown together to fight back against evil. They don't exactly have a whole hell of a lot in common beyond that.

They get into the beer, and Eddie pulls out a joint. It's fun, and relaxing, honestly. Doing a whole lot of nothing. It feels like a mini vacation, and like Steve's settled for the first time in weeks, months. So, he stays an extra day, and then another, because they're having so much fun. Robin will cover for him. She will. But he's really gotta go in the morning.

"Your friend Goodie hates me," Steve says.

"All bark, no bite," Eddie laughs.

Steve doesn't know about that. He seemed pretty nippy to him.

The next week, he brings the decks of cards Eddie had asked for, and now they sit around the round table on the porch, and play hand after hand, going through a case of beer and cigarette after cigarette. It's fun, and unexpected, and Steve's pretty sure next week, he's gonna find a way to stay longer.

He's tipsy, they both are, as they stumble up the stairs towards their rooms. He's got his hands on Eddie, the excuse that he's helping him not fall, but he's pretty sure that's not the whole reason.

He doesn't examine it too much.

They're just having fun, and that's a nice change of pace from the shitshow that Hawkins has been over the past few years.

He wants to stay.

As his head hits the pillow, and he rolls over onto his belly, he tries to devise a plan to make that happen, even as he's drifting.

The kids aren't happy about it when he says he's going to be traveling with his parents for a while, and they'd really be pissed if they knew that he was actually sneaking back to Florida to hole up with a very much still alive Eddie Munson.

He's gonna have to pay for lying about this, to a lot of people that really love Eddie. Steve knows it. But, he'd do it again. Eddie's safe. He's healing up. Every week he's been more mobile, more agile, more…Eddie.

Sure, it's not as if Steve knew him well before all this. But they went to school together. He knows what Eddie Munson is all about, and it's definitely not being quietly introverted on a couch.

When he gets there, he lugs in his huge suitcase, and takes back over the empty room across the hall from the one Eddie's been staying in.

And then they spend their time laying on the beach, or getting drunk, or stoned, as Eddie's body slowly finishes stitching itself back together. He still aches, and so does Steve, but it's not too bad anymore. There are no more bandaids, ointments or creams. No more antibiotics. They hurt, sure, but they're getting by better now.

Eddie wants to venture into the water, and with no open wounds, Steve can't find a reason to say no. Eddie had had to watch from the porch that first week as Gareth ran across the sand, wading out into the water.

Now, it's his turn.

Steve by his side, making sure he's okay. Strong enough. They didn't go through all this just for Eddie to drown.

Steve's getting concerned that he can't quit touching Eddie, but Eddie doesn't seem interested in making him stop.

They're wet, and wrapped in towels, but it feels inevitable when Steve pushes Eddie towards the bathroom, and into the shower. Inevitable when he turns to leave, and Eddie snags his hand, pulling him back towards the tub. Inevitable as he washes his body, trying to not only ignore his own half-hard dick, but Eddie's too.

It's still inevitable as he slips on his clean underwear, and crawls into Eddie's bed instead of his own, and finally presses their lips together.

Eddie kisses back, and hands roam across bare skin. Eddie's fingers trailing his back, making Steve squeeze his eyes shut. He didn't realize how long it's been since someone touched him like that.

Neither of them take it further than that, but they do find themselves, lips kiss-swollen and laying together, breathing heavily in the quiet of the room, and Steve doesn't even know how they've gotten to this point.

One day Eddie was just some guy, then he was wanted on trumped up murder charges, and now, well, this.

"What's the plan? I can't stay here forever," Eddie says into the darkness, and Steve thinks maybe he could. They both could. They'd be safer that way. Hawkins can fuck off. It's their hometown, but not home anymore. Just a place that would arrest Eddie and throw away the key, given half the chance.

"We could," Steve says, and Eddie meets his eyes.

"You know you can't. And your grandparents will turn up eventually, and be less than thrilled to see me here."

"They won't be back until winter, and even that's iffy," Steve reassures, more himself than Eddie, he's pretty sure.

They could sneak around for months, until the snow birds fly south, and nobody would know.

That's all Steve thinks about as he falls asleep, Eddie's arm slung over his stomach.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Steve jerks, sitting bolt upright in bed. Eddie doesn't even stir beside him.

Gareth Jones is standing at the foot of the bed, and Jeff and Goodie are in the doorway. Steve's heart is hammering in his chest. There's no explaining this away as anything other than exactly what it is. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Eddie," Steve says, nudging him with his elbow. Eddie still doesn't budge, but his foot is sticking out of the comforter, and Gareth runs his knuckle up Eddie's bare sole.

Eddie's awake then, jerking his whole leg backwards.

"Jesus H. Christ, kid!" Eddie screeches, pulling the sheet up to his neck as if he's trying to protect his precious modesty. It's fucking endearing.

Terrifying, but endearing.

Steve must be staring at Gareth, because the kid shrugs, "He was late to school. A lot. Wayne asked me to start getting him there before he was a fifth year senior from tardies alone. The bottom of the foot is foolproof."

And Steve's hammering heart slows, just a little. Nobody is screaming, there's no fight breaking out. Nobody's being called names. He's not sure how to take this. They've been caught in bed, but nobody is really reacting to that.

It's just a best friend explaining how to get Eddie awake. Robin would know how to do that for him, too.

"What are you doing here?" Steve finally asks.

"We thought we'd come give you a break," Jeff says from the doorway.

"Doesn't look like you want it though," Goodie adds, and it's the nicest thing he's ever said to Steve, Steve's pretty sure.

"Our parents think we're at a band camp," Gareth adds, "before school starts back up for me."

"Band camp," Eddie laughs, flopping back against the pillows, "Go wait downstairs."

And they listen.

Steve just lays there next to him, finally saying, "Well."

Eddie laughs, then turns to face Steve, "They knew about me. I mean, the theory of me. It's not like I was getting any action. From boys or girls. But they're cool. Freaks gather together."

Steve chuckles, but Eddie keeps talking, "I'm sorry they know about you without you okaying it first, though."

It's fine. Honestly. Like, if they aren't gonna kick his ass? Everything's fine. Sneaking around always ends this way. Steve knows it. You always get caught by someone. He just didn't predict it to be so soon, or here.

"How'd they even get in here?" Steve asks, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He's pretty sure he locked the door when they went to bed.

"That's probably my bad. I taught Goodie to pick locks."

"Another Munson family trick?" Steve asks, pulling his jeans on, sliding up the zipper.

"Yep," Eddie answers, "the school would sometimes forget to leave the room unlocked for us to have Hellfire. So, I taught him to open it, since I have a bit of a tendency to run late."

Steve laughs, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Regret it now, though," Eddie says dryly, and Steve holds open the bedroom door for him.

Gareth and Goodie are sitting around the kitchen table, already helping themselves to the beer they found in the fridge. Cards dealt. Waiting.

Jeff's cooking a massive skillet of eggs and there's toast piled high on a plate.

Beer and eggs. That's something. Breakfast of champions.

"You can fuck him, but Eddie is my card partner," Gareth says, pushing a waiting hand of cards towards Eddie.

Fair enough.

Steve snags a plate, and is more interested in eating than cards, anyway.

"We can't have set partners with five of us," Jeff says. "It's just gotta happen as the game unfolds."

Gareth starts to argue, and it's like they totally moved on from what they all saw upstairs. Steve feels off-kilter, but he takes another bite of toast.

Maybe these guys are Eddie's version of Robin. That's the only thing that makes any sense.

Steve picks up his cards, and starts organizing them in his hand. He isn't even sure what they're playing, but he guesses he'll figure it out. There were lots of card parties in the Harrington household growing up. He probably knows whatever they're gonna throw at him, as long as it isn't something they've straight made up.

Which is possible, he's sure, knowing Eddie.

But that's about the extent of the discussion about what they walked in on earlier.

Jeff turns over a card.

"Eldest, auction is in your hands," Jeff says, and Eddie looks down at his cards.

"Order it up," Eddie says, eating eggs and playing at the same time.

"Trumped up, just like your murder charges," Goodie says, and everybody laughs.

"That doesn't even make sense," Jeff says.

"You just wanted to say it," Gareth adds, and Goodie takes his needling pretty damn well, all things considered.

And Steve smiles, happy that this is something they can all joke and laugh about. That as fucking terrible as it all was, is, that they can still make light of it to cope.

That's not nothing. That Eddie wasn't lost to it. That he's here to be gently ribbed. That his friends believe in his innocence, totally.

Eddie names his card, and Gareth plays it, becoming Eddie's partner.

They continue to play, and things do not go Gareth's way, which Goodie seems to be enjoying.

And later, Goodie smirks, "I'm in the barn."

Gareth heaves a big sigh, "Damn. I'm gonna get skunked."

And everybody laughs at his misfortune.

They stay. Camp out in all the rooms in the house, staking their claim. And it's actually a lot of fun. Like a high school house party that just doesn't end in a fist fight on the lawn. Steve hasn't been this relaxed since, well, before. Before 1983. Before monsters and the Upside Down came crashing into his life.

He embraces this break, this chance to just be. He's not a kid anymore. Not in age, and definitely not in life experience.

He lays on the beach, catching a tan.

These couple of weeks have felt as close to a vacation as he's gotten in years, and he lets the worry of the past slide off his back.

Steve supplies the beer, Goodie has a few pre-rolls left, so they smoke, drink, and play cards. Steve watches them fight over the stereo, and he learns to recognize the new Accept album by ear with time.

They swim, except for Goodie, because apparently he's scared of gators. Even if they tell him that the gulf isn't a swamp, and the chances of him being taken down by a gator are extremely unlikely. Not impossible, gators gonna gate, but it's not like it's super plausible.

Goodie doesn't care. He's not doing it, and says no amount of peer pressure will work on him. So, he sits on the porch, beer on his knee. Cigarette in hand.

So much for him being big and bad, Steve thinks.

Today, girls have suddenly appeared down the beach. Screaming and laughing, and they all watch them intently. Taking in the bikinis. The bouncing boobies. Not one of them above watching a free show.

They have a volleyball that comes bouncing in their direction, leading the girls to finally notice them and approach. Apparently Steve's the only one with a working voice, though. He learns there are a pair of sisters staying in their grandparents' beach house with their friends. One last hurrah before going back to, or for a couple of the girls starting, college.

University of Nebraska. Go, Cornhuskers. Apparently.

Since Steve's the only one engaging like a normal human, they're paying extra attention to him. One in particular. And she's cute. But he politely rebuffed her attention the best he could, and then watched Eddie do the same.

Goodie builds a little bonfire, and Steve is kind of impressed. He doesn't even know where he got the wood at.

Of course, Steve was less impressed when he was sent off for the stuff to make s'mores.

Eddie followed him, and as nervous as Steve is any time Eddie pokes his head out of the house, it's probably fine. Honestly. They are so far from Hawkins.

Eddie does wait in the car at the grocery store, but then digs through the bag to see what Steve bought.

Graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows. Steve's not sure what else Eddie expected, honestly. It's s'mores.

By the time they get back, one of the girls has taken a shine to Gareth, and now Steve and Eddie are watching him blush and blunder through what Steve thinks could be considered flirting, maybe.

It's honestly a good show.

For some reason, she isn't put off by Gareth's awkwardness, and later that night, with the window to his room open, Steve can hear Gareth talking to her down below on the porch.

He's not as bad as Steve once thought, none of them are.

Just like Eddie.

Steve should have realized that earlier, he's pretty sure. First impressions are almost never right about anyone.

And their partying continues, just now there are girls involved. The group, growing.

Goodie's suddenly not as scared of gators, apparently. Because there's a girl on his back out in the water.

Steve sees Gareth dip under the water, and knows where this is going, and sure enough, he must snag Goodie's foot, which causes a commotion.

Steve misses Robin. He sits there considering if there's any way he could get Mrs. Buckley to let her join them, but can't think of an excuse that would seem plausible. Unless Robin also wants to go to fake band camp, too.

Steve's lounging on the steps, leaned back, his elbows braced against the wood. Watching from behind his sunglasses.

Gareth sits next to him.

Two of the girls are hitting around a volleyball. Bouncing along the sand.

"Boobies," Steve says.

"Boobies," Gareth echoes, then laughs.

They sit and watch a few seconds longer, then Gareth says, "Eddie doesn't have those, you know."

"I know," Steve answers. "I like both. I'm okay with that. Are you?"

"Yeah. Eddie does too," Gareth says, then turns and looks at Steve fully.

Steve turns to see what he's doing.

"Thanks. For saving him. I know we've been kinda shitty at times, but we owe you."

They don't owe him anything, but he still teases, "Don't worry. Someday I'll collect."

Gareth slaps him on the shoulder, and then inserts himself in the volleyball game down below.

The next morning, Steve's shaving at the sink, bathroom door open, when Gareth appears in the doorway.

Then says nothing.

Steve keeps shaving, waiting to see what this is. Finally asking, "Eddie okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. Um, I have a question."

Steve meets his eyes in the mirror. Still waiting.

"Do you have a condom I can borrow?"

Steve grins, "Maybe. But not borrow. I definitely don't want it back."

Gareth rolls his eyes, "Very funny. Eddie told me to ask you. I regret that decision, now."

Steve reaches over and gets his bathroom bag, and tosses it to Gareth, "Help yourself."

"Thanks," Gareth says, as he digs through it, finding what he was looking for. And then takes the whole box. Little shit.

But Steve lets him. He'd rather Gareth have more than he needs, instead of less. Steve can buy more. He's not embarrassed at all.

"Play safe," Steve says as Gareth tosses his bag back, it thumping against Steve's bare chest.

Gareth doesn't come home that night, and by mid-afternoon the next day and still no sight of him, Eddie is sending Steve down to check on him.

He's fine. Just laying on the couch in the girls' house, hand up the shirt of the petite, blonde one.

"Check in with Eddie later," Steve says, startling him. "You know how he worries."

Gareth laughs, and gives Steve a little salute and then a dismissive shooing away motion.

Another girl is at the top of the staircase, and lifts the hem of her shirt, flashing him.

"If only I wasn't already spoken for, sweetheart," he says, holding his hands to his heart, as if he's wounded by this admission.

And she's laughing, and seems charmed, not offended, which is what he'd hoped for. He hasn't made anything official with Eddie, and they have definitely cooled their jets since Eddie's friends arrived, even if they all know.

Steve walks down the sand, and Eddie is waiting on the porch.

"Well?" Eddie asks.

"I saw some tits," Steve says, sitting down next to him, "and Gareth's fine."

Eddie laughs, and briefly slides his hand through Steve's arm, squeezing his elbow.

In no time at all, the girls are packing up their cars, and Gareth is acting like he's about to become a war widow.

Steve gets it. He does. Your first, you don't forget. But this should have been a little summer fling for him, not a pending broken heart.

It's not like Gareth doesn't have to go soon, too. Labor day is quickly approaching.

Gareth is pretty pissed off that summer has slipped away, and now he has to go back to school. One more year. The youngest. Without him, they could probably stay indefinitely.

And he's very unhappy about that fact.

But, he's made it his life's mission to make it clear to all of them that while he has to go back to high school for another year, at least he's not a virgin anymore.

They're all sick of hearing it, and Steve's grateful it isn't gonna be him stuck in the car for twelve hours with him this time.

Eddie has given Gareth very explicit, detailed instructions on how to run Hellfire. How to keep it going for the other sheepies. Sure, the name will likely have to be changed. It's far too tainted now. And they might even if they have to do it in private, away from that godforsaken school, but Eddie wants that to happen, if need be.

A few days later, it's their turn to leave, and they're dragging feet, Gareth especially.

"Are you ever coming home?" Gareth asks Eddie, standing next to his mom's borrowed minivan.

Eddie looks at Steve, and Steve doesn't have the heart to answer that.

But no. Eddie's probably not.

Alone, once again, Steve follows Eddie up the staircase, his hand resting in the small of his back. As if Eddie still needs help with his balance. He doesn't, but Steve wants to touch him, nonetheless.

Steve watches as Eddie pulls his shirt over his head. He's gotten a bit of a tan while his friends were here, and he looks healthier, finally. Steve's hands find his bare skin, squeezing his sides. Eddie laughs, hair falling into his face.

And Steve wants.

He kisses him like he means it, then pulls back. During his last beer run, he'd done some other stocking up as well. He pulls the plastic sack out of the nightstand. New boxes of condoms and K-Y jelly. He shakes them out onto the bed.

"You wanna?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks at them, cheeks going a little red, but he nods.

There's a little confusion on the expectations here, but Steve rolls over onto his belly. This is what he wants. He's never had it, but he wants it, anyway.

"I've never, have you ever?" Eddie asks, holding the tube in hand, flipping the cap open and shut, over and over again.

Steve shakes his head, "No."

There's a learning curve. It's kinda steep, but at least they can laugh about it. They can figure it out together, and now that Eddie's finally got two fingers in him, Steve thinks they're finally getting somewhere.

It's an odd feeling, honestly. He isn't sure what he feels about it, other than full.

But he's gonna ride this out. See where it goes.

Now up on his knees, the blunt head of Eddie's cock is definitely bigger than his fingers, and Steve hangs his head down between his shoulders, and sucks in a sharp breath.

Eddie stills, "You still okay?"

There's a hand on Steve's ass, and he focuses on that point of contact. Like everything is in that warm touch, and nowhere else.

"It's a lot," Steve admits. Because it is.

"Want me to stop?" Eddie asks, his other hand now trailing up Steve's spine.

"No. No. Just, more lube, I think. And go slow," which Steve knows is an ask. He's pretty sure Eddie's barely been moving at all.

Eddie slides out, and now Steve feels left open, and missing something. It's so fucking weird. There's more lube, and more fingers, and even more lube. Steve feels it dripping out of him, he's pretty sure.

But then Eddie's pressing in again, and it seems to go a little easier. He feels the head of his cock pop past his rim, right into him, and he groans, fisting at the sheets underneath him. It's good, and the rest of the slide feels easier.

Eddie eventually stills.

"You all in?" Steve asks. He's not sure what he'll do if there's more.

"Fuck, yes," Eddie answers, and then Steve can feels his fingertips brushing along his hole as it's stretched around his cock, buried deep inside. "Look at you."

Steve can't do that, but wishes he could.

"You good?" Eddie asks.

Yeah. Steve thinks he's good, "Yeah. Yeah. You can move. Slow. Go slow. But fuck me."

And Eddie does. It's a little hesitant, and uneven, but he draws back, and then slides deep again. And again. Until he's found a nice rhythm. Steve feels insane, and whiny, and so fucking needy.

He didn't expect how much he'd enjoy this. He kinda just thought he'd be taking one for the team.

Fuck that. He's taking this for himself. Happily, greedily.

It doesn't last long. Steve knows how that goes. The first time you slide into a body that's allowing, welcoming, you inside. It's overwhelming, and feels good in a way you can't even begin to expect.

Eddie shoves deep one more time, and comes with a noise that is nearly enough to send Steve over the edge, untouched.

When he pulls out, Steve feels empty. Cracked open, and then Eddie rolls him over onto his back, slick hand finding his cock, eyes locked straight on Steve's, and Steve melts into it. He looks at Eddie. Into his dark eyes, his hand gripping Eddie's scarred waist, holding on.

It's a firm slide up, and back down, and Steve can feel his orgasm building. And when he tenses and comes, splattering his own belly and chest, he feels so fucking good. Eddie eventually lets go, cleans him up, and then curls into his side.

Fingers dancing along his skin, and Steve suspects, going from mole to mole.

He's gonna fall in love with him, hell, probably already has.

"We gotta do something. Make a plan. We can't stay hidden here forever," Eddie eventually says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. "Even if I want to."

Steve knows. He knows that's true.

"Okay. I'll figure it out."

Steve paces on the porch, worried. He eyes the nailbat leaning against the railing, waiting, in case he needs it. He's scared he's made a mistake. Scared that it's gonna be helicopters, spotlights, and a whole fucking army decending on them.

It's not.

It's Dr. Sam Owens. Alone, with a briefcase.

Two hours later, Eddie Munson has a whole new identity, and a small tote bag of cash. A payout Steve hadn't even known to ask for, but Owens had brought as a peace offering to keep Eddie quiet if he'll just slink off and not expose all their secrets.

Wayne's paperwork is on the counter, if he wants it.

Jeff and Goodie are bringing Wayne out next week. That's the plan anyway. If they can lure him into the car.

Eddie can't return to Hawkins with his new identity, but he can leave the beach house. Can leave Florida. He can go anywhere he wants, now.

Dr. Owens is descending the steps, nearly onto the sand, when Steve hurries out onto the porch.

"Hey, wait!"

Dr. Owens turns around, and Steve suddenly isn't sure what to say.

"Yes?"

"Um. What would it take, to get me that kind of paperwork?"

Owens smirks, just a little, and reaches into his briefcase, pulling out a manilla envelope.

Steve takes it.

"How did you know?" Steve asks.

"I've had eyes on you from the moment you ferreted him out of Hawkins."

Steve swallows. Nods.

Looks down at the envelope he's gripping tight. He could disappear, too. If he wants. He'd have to find some way to loop in Robin, of course, but he could just…go.

Wherever Eddie wants.

"Thank you," Steve says.

"We think the activity in Hawkins has ceased. Once they finish rebuilding, it should be back to business as usual."

Steve nods again. But it'll never be the same. Can't be. But the town will be able to start over. Have proven that's the plan. Hell, they've already figured out a way to start school on time and everything.

Dr. Owens gives him one last look, and then he's gone.

Eddie's standing on the porch, and as Steve climbs the steps, Eddie holds open the door, asking, "What's next?"

Steve turns the lock, "Anything you want."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics to follow along with the filth and fun! 💦🎵

Notes: In the 1980's Destin was just starting to turn into the vacation city it now is. It went from fishing village to a resort city.

Accept's album Russian Roulette was released on April 21, 1986. As we're all aware, Eddie was wearing an Accept pin on his battle vest during S4.

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 11 hours

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There will always be someone to support you

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 11 hours

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Obsessed with the idea of Eddie, Jonathan, Tommy, and Billy finding out being obsessed with Steve Harrington was actually not the normal high school experience everyone else at Hawkins high was having. They’re the ones constantly calling him king and being obsessed and the rest of the student body is like “oh yeah, he was the captain of a couple sports teams right? He had cool hair…yeah he seemed cool I guess. Didn’t really notice him outside sports events and like when he threw a party. I think some of the girls liked him cause he was hot.”. Like was he the king of the school or were you just gay for him?

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 13 hours

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WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Thank you for the tag @stervrucht & @wheneverfeasible 💜💜 I got the words STIM & SPICE but I’m gonna go with SPICE solely because it’s a longer word and I’m greedy and I wanna share more.

Steve knows about Eddie’s scars, obviously. Hell, he’d helped change the bandages on them a couple of times before he got most of his mobility back. But even though they’re not weeping and bright red anymore, they’re still not exactly fun to look at.

“Pupils. Right.” He swallows, and Eddie’s eyes dart down to watch the way Steve’s adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He’s always liked that. Distinctly male. It makes Eddie’s mouth go a little dry.

Instead, he’s going to get to fight. And not just with anyone; he’s going to get to fight Steve Harrington. It’s leagues beyond just having some humdrum sex with a random chick. It doesn’t even fucking compare!

Christ, Steve is cute, especially in the soft, still sort of dark morning haze. Like every hour is Steve’s golden hour. Gods fucking favorite. Whenever the angels or whoever the fuck was cooking Steve up, they took a little extra time on things like symmetry and perfecting jawlines. And his lips—fuck, they looked soft. And like, lollipop red. They did a really good job on his lips.

Especially now, when he looks over at Max and her frail little bird bones, her feet hanging over the edge of the couch, too short to even reach the ground… Trusting him implicitly. Billy can’t imagine hitting her—can’t imagine himself ever being that small, and his dad looking over at him and reaching a different conclusion.

No pressure tags: @dame-zoom-a-lot @shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @weird-an @callieb @suometar

Your word, should you choose to participate, is: KINGS 👑👑

#manifesting the full fic #is this fight club au? 0_o

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 24 hours

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 1 day

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did you know you can maybe grow tits if you hit yourself hard enough and often enough

Over 70 percent of the German battalion's soldiers have been diagnosed with significant gynecomastia. Military officials have promised to keep an eye on the men's breasts.

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 1 day

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I have the sincere vaginal hubris of knowing that I would ride Gale Dekarios so hard it would rewire his brain on a level no deity-focused, celestial, metaphysical orgy of the self ever could. You can absolutely conjure four of yourself to fingerbang me, beautiful, but what I'm doing is ancient earth magic. This pussy unknowable. This pussy arcane. Your ex is a goddess? I would rob her of the Weave with a single twerk. Grip is godless, timeless, aligned only with our natural instinct to get freak nasty. If the heavens sought to control they shouldn't have given me an ass this fat and a gender this fluid. I'm driving til I find a way to get you pregnant, taking that wizard staff waterdeep til they rename Cowgirl to Seahorse.

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 1 day

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Rom Com | E | 65k

Author: @pearynice

Artist: @paradimeshifts7

Betas: @hbyrde36 @hitlikehammers

[Link to fic] | [Link to art]

Pairings: Eddie Munson/ Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson & Chrissy Cunningham

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Wayne Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Robin Buckley

Tags: Rockstar!Eddie Munson, Beekeeper!Steve Harrington, Strangers to lovers, Eddie Munson is bad at feelings, Implied/referenced drug abuse/addiction, healing, romance, angst with a happy ending

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

In the wake of yet another overtly public scandal, the lead guitarist for the folk metal band Corroded Coffin is sent away to his Uncle’s town of Bumfuck Nowhere, Indiana to spend his summer taking care of himself.

Which said lead guitarist certainly doesn’t need. Because Chrissy is overreacting. Because they all are, and Eddie doesn’t need to be treated like a Victorian child with a prescription for ocean breezes, he needs to be in LA with his band, practicing. Writing. Rehearsing.

He’s fine.

But his manager’s will is iron, and Eddie arrives at his uncle’s door feeling much like the homeless teen he was a mere decade ago, tail between his legs as he asks for more than he’s ever been able to give, and taking more than he can ever hope to repay.

With Wayne taking his arrival in stride, Eddie is forced to integrate himself into this new, slower-paced reality. He harvests chicken eggs. Churns mayonnaise. Takes a stab at home repair and weeds Wayne’s garden, all while eyeing the unfairly hot beekeeper next door.

However as the summer progresses, and Eddie falls faster and deeper than he ever imagined, this new reality forces him to grapple with what his fame has given him, and what it has taken away.

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 2 days

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Give me Steve that doesn't give a fuck about the ndas

What's the gov going to do kill him? Worse things have tried and failed

It's not like anyone would believe him anyway

Post season 3 pre season 4 Eddie runs into Steve while he's carting the party around and asks how exactly he came to know his newest sheep

Steve just shrugs and says fighting monsters

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 2 days

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“Oh…shit,” Eddie mutters as the garage door slowly lifts open.

“What’s oh shit?” Hazel pipes up from the back seat.

“Nothin’. Just didn’t know Papa was gonna be home early today.”

Eddie takes his sweet time easing into the garage and cutting the engine, and then he twists in his seat to look at Hazel.

“Okay, we had a super fun day today, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Right, so here’s the deal – Papa is not gonna be thrilled with me if he sees how much fun today was. What if you go inside and distract Papa for me while I get everything in the house?”

Hazel just looks at him for a moment – long enough that Eddie wonders if she might hit the other end of the spectrum and go tattle on him to Steve, (and honestly, with Hazel it was sort of a toss-up if she’d actually be interested in running a mostly harmless con on her dad anyway).

“Okay,” she finally says.

“Okay?” Eddie repeats, “Alright, atta-girl. You wanna come up with a plan or–”

“No,” she cuts him off, fiddling with the buckle on her carseat.

Eddie pauses.

“You’re good?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” he replies, only somewhat tentatively, and only then does he get out of the car, help Hazel out of her seat, and follow her into the house.

Steve is sitting at the kitchen counter, and he looks up as they walk in.

“Papa!” Hazel exclaims, barely kicking her sandals off before she’s running up to Steve and jumping into his arms.

“You’re home early,” Eddie comments.

“Had a feeling my last client was gonna cancel so I got all my admin shit done early in the day,” Steve replies, “What were you two up to?”

“Errands,” Eddie replies, because keep it simple, stupid (or so Eddie needs to remind himself constantly).

He hikes Hazel a little higher up so he can press a kiss onto her cheek, “How ‘bout you? Did you have a good day today?”

“Yup,” Hazel nods, and Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at her behind Steve’s back, “I wanna snuggle and put jammies on and read with you please.”

Steve’s whole face lights up.

“Really? You wanna snuggle and have some quiet time before your sisters get home?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods again, nuzzling her cheek against the collar of his shirt.

Steve looks entirely delighted as he heads up the stairs, and Hazel gives Eddie a thumbs up without even lifting her head off of Steve’s shoulder.

Holy shit, Eddie thinks, because he can’t believe that actually worked, but also because, holy shit, Hazel is diabolical. Just as diabolical as her big sisters, but in her own special, twisted kind of way, which means Eddie and Steve’s hopes of having an easy go of it with their youngest daughter are totally shot.

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 2 days

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there's a guy who just sold my workplace a new software, so we have to do training with him and i HATE him to the bone he is quintessential silicon valley coke snorting douche

but unfortunately, i am the ONLY person on my team who understands the way he's communicating stuff so i have to consistently translate to everyone AND I HATE IT

anyways enemies to lovers to enemies, toxic office romance, hate fucking, hurt/no comfort, no happy ending, mcd (his voice makes me want to end myself)

#are u me D:#i can write this #but I'm worried I'll get my wires crossed

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 2 days

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like you wanted it forever eddie gets to kiss steve instead of telling him to make vecna pay. it's a whole thing.

“Hey, Steve?”

It slips out before Eddie can stop himself. He didn’t actually want to say anything, was content with keeping it all to himself, but his brain and mouth don’t always communicate and now he’s frozen, stuck standing here watching Steve watch him.

It’s just that Eddie could die today. Or Steve could, or they both could, and no one would ever know how Steve has crawled under Eddie’s skin and settled into the space behind Eddie’s ribs. It’s just a crush, probably—it’s not like it’s been long enough for it to develop into much more.

But Steve hasn’t given him a moment’s peace since Eddie held him against the wall in that stupid fucking boat shack with a broken bottle pressed to his throat. Before then, really, if Eddie’s being honest. He’s been curious since he met Dustin and the shithead wouldn’t shut up about him, and he’s been furious since the tenth grade when Steve smiled at him in the hallway instead of sneering like Tommy H and Eddie’s traitorous heart had almost thundered out of his chest.

He’s been aware of Steve for years, is the thing, and he could overlook the pretty part when he focused on the douchebag part. And it worked. Until Chrissy. Until he found out about some fucking monster dimension and a girl with superpowers. Until Steve was reassuring him and looking after all those kids and sacrificing himself at every opportunity and taking a bite out of an honest to God bat, Jesus fucking Christ.

And Eddie’s not stupid. He knows Steve is probably straight and still hung up on his ex and would never be interested in someone like Eddie, but he can’t help himself. He’s captivated by those big, brown eyes and that pretty pout and stupid fucking hair. Steve is beautiful and clueless and brave and kind and it makes Eddie want to pull out his hair and scream.

Steve is too much, and it’s not fair, and now they might die and Steve might hate him forever if they both even make it out of this but Eddie can’t bring himself to care. They’re already in hell, so why not?

“Yeah?” Steve’s still staring at him, expectant. His lips are turned down in concern and Eddie doesn’t feel like resisting anymore. “Hey, man, you alr—”

He strides forward, determined, and grabs a stunned Steve by his cheeks before pressing their lips together.

It’s awkward at first. Steve doesn’t react, just stands there, unmoving, and right as regret is seeping into Eddie’s bones and he’s about to pull away, Steve seems to come to life. He grabs Eddie’s waist with both hands and pulls him in, kissing back fervently, like this is all he’s living for, like he’ll die if they stop. It takes Eddie by surprise, but he’s not complaining.

Kissing Steve is like shredding on his guitar in front of a cheering audience, the adrenaline and rightness of it all lighting up his insides so bright it makes him dizzy, shoves his heart into his throat. And when Steve licks into Eddie’s mouth and moans quietly as Eddie sucks on his tongue in return, Eddie knows he doesn’t want to go a day without this. One of Steve’s hands leaves Eddie’s waist to cross behind his back and cup the back of Eddie’s skull, tangling his fingers in his curls and tugging, just enough to reposition Eddie’s head for better access as he delves into his mouth again. It feels like lightning striking, sparking down Eddie’s spine.

Eddie suppresses a shudder, and he knows that he won’t be able to stop if they keep going for much longer. Steve’s mouth on his is much more addicting than he feared, and he feared the worst. He slows them down, using his hold on the other man’s jaw to control their pace, to keep Steve from surging forward again, making the choice for both of them even though he can feel Steve frowning.

He kisses Steve one, two, three times before taking a shaky step backwards. Eddie releases the front of Steve’s vest, unaware one of his hands had moved to grip it at some point, and gives it an awkward pat. “Don’t die out there, yeah?”

Steve stares at him, lips bright red and chest heaving, prettier than he has any right to be. He gives a weak nod. His eyes are still trained on Eddie’s mouth, hungry, and he sways forward slightly.

Eddie laughs softly and pushes him away, something sparking deep in his belly. “Later,” he promises. He’s not sure he can trust himself to say much more than one word at this point.

Dazed, Steve nods again, but the tittering coming from Robin and Nancy reminds them they have an audience and seems to shock Steve back into functioning at least somewhat like a person. He clears his throat and glares half-heartedly at Eddie. “You’re such an asshole.”

Eddie huffs, delighted, not offended in the slightest and hopelessly endeared as Steve runs a hand through his hair. It’s a better reaction than he could’ve hoped for. Still, he brings a hand to his chest and feigns innocence. “Me?”

Steve gives his bandana a sharp downward tug, fixing what he spent the past couple minutes mussing, and says, “We’re talking about your shitty timing when I get back.” Eddie can barely process anything beyond the hand that settles on his hip and squeezes. “I’m gonna be pissed if you’re not alive, Munson,” he warns. Steve nods in Dustin’s direction, who looks torn between horrified and delighted. “Henderson, too.”

“I’ll keep him safe,” Eddie says, adjusting Steve's strap as an excuse to rest his hand in the middle of his chest.

“Yourself, too.”

Steve smiles and presses a brief kiss to Eddie’s lip as a promise.

It only lasts a second, but Robin’s apparently already reached her limit with them. “If you two are done, there’s a super-powered psychopath trying to murder our friends that we need to stop? Ring any bells?”

“Yeah, sounds vaguely familiar.” Steve rolls his eyes, gives Eddie’s hip one last squeeze before he finally rips himself away to walk backwards, towards the girls but still facing Eddie, annoyingly and effortlessly charming. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at Eddie like he can’t believe he’s real, like he’ll disappear if Steve looks away for even a moment. It makes Eddie feel all sorts of gooey and ridiculous.

“You’re gonna trip like that, and I’m gonna have to laugh,” Eddie tells him, raising his voice as the distance between them grows.

“You just wanna watch my ass as I walk away.”

“Don’t keep me waiting then, princess.”

Steve’s too far away for Eddie to see if the pet name flustered him the same way big boy did, but he laughs and obeys, turning around to keep walking.

Within seconds, he’s casting a look back over his shoulder and grinning helplessly when he meets Eddie’s eyes, like he didn’t mean to but he can’t not. A wide, dopey smile spreads across Eddie’s own face in response, broadening when Steve looks away with a shake of his head and what sounds like a muttered, fucking dickhead. Eddie has never wanted him more.

He wishes he could call out to him, grab him by the collar and pull him in again, but Steve’s figure is getting smaller, shoving at a laughing Robin and accepting a gentle, approving nudge from Nancy, and it’s all the motivation Eddie needs to make sure they make it out, the light at the end of this gruesome nightmare.

Dustin’s smug expression is quite truthfully the last thing he wants to see when he turns around, so of course it’s closer than he thought it’d be when he turns around. Taunting remarks wouldn’t be enough to diminish the fluttering in his chest, but he still really doesn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t.”

“I’m happy for you,” Dustin says, practically beaming at him.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters as he pushes past him and heads for his trailer.

“I did tell you so,” Dustin reminds him cheerfully as he follows him. “I’m just saying, clearly, you should listen to me more.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and opens the door for the kid. “You said he wouldn’t beat the shit out of me if I tried to make a move. Not exactly the same thing, Henderson.”

“Okay, I didn’t predict how,” Dustin makes a face, “enthusiastic he’d be. But it still counts.”

Eddie grins. He leans his head against the door, fighting off a lovelorn sigh. “He was really into it, wasn’t he?”

Dustin quirks an eyebrow. “About as much as you. I thought you were going to swallow him whole at one point—”

“Alright, Henderson, yup, thank you—”

“Like a python, you know? Just unhinge your jaw and—”

“Okay,” Eddie ushers him inside, “I think we’re done now.”

Dustin laughs and gets to work, but all Eddie can think about is Steve’s hands on him, in his hair, on his waist, a trail of fire left in his wake. He still feels the ghost of Steve’s lips on his, can still hear the quiet noises he let slip.

He bites back another smile. If they survive, he’s going to continue what they started and not let up until Steve is a panting, writhing mess beneath him, until Steve knows from the way Eddie presses his mouth to his skin just how beautiful he is, how perfect and tempting and good. Eddie desperately wants to see Steve taken care of for a change, and he wants to be the one to do it.

(They do. He does. Everyone pretends to hate them for it.)

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