steddielicious-quaerhye

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Flames of Desire

Rating: General CW: None Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Christmas, Light Miscommunication, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fireplace As a Plot Device, Hot Chocolate as a Plot Device, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, First Kiss, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sappy Ending This is for the Spicy Six-Ber Month Challenge, hosted by the wonderful @thefreakandthehair. I claimed the prompt: Fireplace.

❄️————————❄️ There’s a stack of watched, rented VHS tapes on the coffee table. Next to two half-empty mugs of hot chocolate, rapidly cooling from the mountains of whipped cream he had been egged into topping them with. And a warm body pressed from shoulder to foot next to him on the couch, watching on at the static ripples of Michael J. Fox’s face in Family Ties, television propped in the corner of the living room, volume low because their eyes have been dipping and dipping like toes into a prepped bubble bath—close to that pure, utter, and complete relaxation they’re craving.

His head is nestled awkwardly on Eddie’s right shoulder, propped up by a bony joint and his ear alone, and his neck is aching something awful, yet he’s simultaneously too comfortable to move. Eddie’s tracing his fingertips over Steve’s own right shoulder, his bicep, connecting moles that aren’t showing right now—somehow memorized by times where his shirt was peeled off, probably sometime in the late summer under an unforgiving sun, ready to sink into a pool he’s recently learned to not fear. And something is full inside him.

Full and large like the red-orange shifting flames coming from the centerpiece of the living room, the beloved fireplace he’s known to light since his dad showed him how. The Duraflame log lit up behind the screen, crackling low and painting the side of Eddie with the glow.

Eddie’s eyes do something beautiful because of the light. Glowing in their own way. Going from dark chocolate melted for their mugs to drizzles of honey swirling in spiced chai. Deliciously gorgeous no matter which way Steve observes them, even as cliche as it is to compare them to chocolate. They’re dark, though, the same way logs are for the fireplace. Dark, but made to be comforting. He hums, eyes still roaming over Eddie’s soft face, and keeps his neck angled sharply. The discomfort is worth it, here under Eddie’s warmth, his beauty, the heavily saturated love that flows through Steve—even if he tries to push it away.

We’re friends, he tells himself, not for the first time.

Something’s different about this one, though. Charged. He never felt this sort of adoration, this ember to full-blown bonfire in his chest. Never towards Tommy. Definitely not towards Robin, but there’s adoration there, too—different.

This one is coffee and pancakes, maple syrup smiles, and groggy giggles at the dining table. Candles with slow burn wax, vanilla wafts and cinnamon flames. Reruns and greasy pizza dinners, breadsticks from the same bag, wiping marinara from each other’s faces because the other can’t find it. T-shirts lost, coming back with amber-musk cologne and citrus-lavender detergent, soft sleeves and worn graphics, apologies loose from the tongue, covered by soft snorts and playful eye rolls—“don’t worry about it, at least it’s back.”

A vest he has yet to return, blood-free and loose strings stitched. The collar white-worn from how many times he’s stroked his thumbs over the fabric. Its weight in his lap, contemplated over time and time again. Questions forming in his brain about what Accept plays and who Judas Priest is; a tape stuffed in his bedside drawer, rewound and played again, The Last in Line. Handfuls of dice with polished edges, promises to himself that he’ll gift them this time, next time, some time.

Falling in love.

One slow step at a time.

Burning up with it now like the log in the fireplace. Slow and then all at once. Dancing, warming, glowing. Not like the weak foundations of a house; akin to relationships in the past that were one-sided, collapsing under its own weight. This friendship he has with Eddie is give one, take one. One foot in, then a hand, two bodies on a couch, bellies full of hot chocolate and Christmas gold coins from this morning—Eddie’s stocking dumped over his lap, “I’m sharing my fortune,” he had told Steve, “let’s eat up, sweetheart.”

Eddie brought him a gift.

A sweater he eyed at the mall in the town over. Some Macy’s sweater, an ochre yellow like his other one, the price tag noticeably missing. But Eddie’s smile—his smile—dimples proud and teeth shiny, eyes crinkled, honey brown from the glow of fire. He excused the rosiness of his cheeks to the fireplace, the heat of the room, the gentle breeze still coming in under the front door.

And he had handed over his own little wrapped thing. …And Justice For All tied off with a ribbon, ready to be popped into Eddie’s Walkman. Two years of friendship culminating, little gifts here and there, knowing Eddie would’ve gone looking. He steered Eddie away from the Metallica section of their local record store; only for a couple months, but it felt like a lifetime. He presented the tape with his own smile, with laughter when Eddie’s hands shook and he tumbled about the living room on jumping legs—all signs of sleep that previously exuded, gone in a single rip, pried away with the wrapping paper on the floor.

Jokingly, Eddie had smacked a wet kiss to Steve’s cheek.

He took the scraps like a starving dog.

If that was all he could get, it would suffice. They were happy. And close.

Closer, now. Burning fire, Family Ties, coin wrappers, hot chocolate mugs. And Eddie’s honey glistening eyes, dark like firewood, lightened by that sweetener.

Eddie looks away from the screen, mouth open with words poised, and spots Steve already on him. “Hey,” he says instead of what he planned, “somethin’ on my face?” There’s a sort of sleepy sweet gargle to his voice, deep in the vowels and loose on the consonants—like he can’t quite bother to clear his throat, too busy with already speaking, already looking directly at Steve. He watches Eddie make a show of trying to clean off his face, merely smearing his palm over his rosy cheeks.

“No,” Steve breathes, “just…” This close, pressed against each other, he can hear each soft intake of Eddie’s breath. He squishes his face deeper into Eddie’s shoulder, suppressing the urge to do something stupid; like grin without reason; like kiss him. Yeah, that’d be pretty dumb. “‘M really glad you came over today,” he murmurs.

Once more, Eddie glints. Smile stretched slow, teeth light orange from the flames, tired eyes, and pink cheeks. There’s chocolate in the corner of his mouth, now that he’s really looking, soaking in all of Eddie’s features; Steve’s fingers tingle with the urge to reach up and swipe it away. Eddie breathes out a chuckle, not sharp and brash like it normally would, but reserved—comfortable; private. “I’m glad I came over, too,” he says, speaking soft, “no place I’d rather be, honestly.”

“Even though you could’a spent the day with Wayne?” And it feels right, especially private, to keep his voice low, too.

“I mean…he understood, y’know? We usually do our holiday stuff the day after Christmas anyway. So.” Eddie shrugs minutely. “You invited me over for a date, sweetheart, I couldn’t say. ‘Sides, I’ve been tiptoeing towards this for awhile.”

All at once, the room’s warmth evaporates from Steve’s limbs. He goes cold, frozen, completely and utterly still. His head pulls up quickly from Eddie’s shoulder, neck pleading from the movement. “Wh…what?”

“This date. I’ve been looking forward to it for a bit. I’d be stupid to pass it up.”

“Wait…wait wait wait. You thought this was a date?”

That makes Eddie freeze. His thumb still running over Steve’s bicep comes to a stuttering halt. Head whipping over, big bug eyes landing on Steve’s. Wide and caught and wholly confused. Meekly, “Is this…is this not a date?”

“Um…I…um, no?”

Just as fast as he froze, Eddie is pulling himself away. Arm falling from Steve’s shoulders, jumping a few inches away, keeping his hands to himself. “Oh…oh, fuck. Steve—I—I swear, man, I thought this was…oh, this is so embarrassing.” He tugs at the ends of his hair, face coloring a bright red, pink cheeks going pinker in the yellow-orange glow. Somehow, even now, Steve finds him still endearingly beautiful. “Jeez. And I…I was thinking of kissing you, too! I mean you didn’t need to hear that, but I—Oh my god, I should go.”

A part of Steve melts, just as plastic does in fire—quick and nauseous and horrible. And Eddie’s standing up from the couch, further flipping Steve’s now upset stomach, trying to get away from it all. But he’s faster.

Faster still.

He reaches out and tugs on Eddie’s right wrist, bringing him flopping back down on the sofa. Eddie looks to him again, just as startled and eerily fearful as before.

Steve can’t make his mouth spit out the words he should. All those things he’d been thinking. How beautiful Eddie is. The slow moments over the last two years, every moment one increment closer to getting what he truly wants. He should be nonsensical. Explain. Paint the picture. Just as he did in the past for other people he fell face first for.

But Eddie’s looking at him. At him. Honey eyes. Pink cheeks. Plump lips.

The chocolate in the corner of his mouth both from their drinks and the coins. That scar he received for trying to buy more time, silver and soft and healed on his jaw. His hair cascading to his shoulders, heavy and dark. And him just alive on the couch, here to share the holiday, lit by the fireplace, cozy in a Christmas sweater and sweatpants. Soft. Sweet. Sacred.

He leans in, slowly as to give Eddie time to dodge, but when he doesn’t—it’s a simple decision from there. Closing his eyes, even if he’s reluctant to do so, reluctant to not see Eddie’s beauty. But he kisses him. Once, tender, slow moving with his lips. Their mouths sticky when he begins to draw back for a second, but he doesn’t get the chance to pull away completely, Eddie is welcoming himself back in. Hands cupping Steve’s cheeks, fingers pushing lightly into the soft give of his face, firm where they’re placed, but overall gentle.

Eddie’s hungry with how he kisses. As if needing this. It’s a little sloppy, the way he drags his lips, but Steve doesn’t care. They’re kissing. Sweet and sugary and milk chocolate on their tongues, when they introduce them to each other. Slow, but sure. New.

Though, Steve kindles a new flame—one flickering in his chest, warm and fragile—a candle, a firebox where this kiss is the first of many.

When he opens his eyes, Eddie’s already looking at him. Looking at him, looking at him.

“I didn’t know it was a date,” Steve whispers.

Breathing a chuckle, Eddie swipes his hands tenderly down the sides of Steve’s neck, setting in the crooks of his arms, heavy as they lay. “I didn’t either, sweetheart.” Those molten eyes bounce briefly, left and right; there’s something laying in them that Steve’s never really seen directed at him before, gooey and tender. Maybe that’s love? “So…so that was a pretty great addition to that Christmas gift, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, words bright with his smile, “guess it is. Wish I knew it was a date.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. I would’a made us a nicer dinner instead of ordering pizza.”

“Next time, sweetheart. We’ll make a whole shebang of it. Keep the fireplace lit, have more hot chocolate, watch a bunch of movies…and we’ll have spaghetti and I’ll kiss you later that night and taste the tomato sauce you made. I bet it would still taste good.”

Steve wriggles slightly in his seat, hands wrangling up for Eddie’s, gripping to them hard. He can’t contain his bubbling excitement, stirring and stirring and swirling inside him. He’s too warm, under his pajamas, from the fire, from the love overcoming him. And he can’t stop smiling. Stretched wide, cheeks bulbous—so big he almost can’t see—eyes squinting hard. “Y’don’t know what my spaghetti tastes like, Eds,” he protests.

“Bet it would taste like that kiss did, though. Made with your love?”

He giggles and sways and swoons. “That was so corny.”

“Yeah, but I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” Steve sighs, relenting. He couldn’t even hide in his own hands. Face too bright and his body too vibrant and his heart pounding too hard, hard enough it could probably be heard if the television were turned down just a smidge. His stomach flips, a good way this time. And he’s too aware of the fact that his palms are clammy, fingers gripping too tight to Eddie’s hands, not wanting to let go. “Is it that obvious how I feel?”

Eddie lifts up one of his hands, squeezing his index finger and thumb together closely. “A little bit,” he says, “but it’s cute, Stevie. Could tell the moment I saw you lookin’ at me, your eyes all over me. Don’t even think you could see how I was looking at you, baby.”

“How were you looking at me?”

“Like I’m in love,” Eddie easily answers. “Because I am. Have been. For a long while now.”

“Really?” Steve breathes. “You’re in love with me?”

“Mhm. I love you to the moon and back, sweetheart.”

Steve squeezes their hands again. The fireplace crackles. There’s still chocolate on Eddie’s mouth. His heart beats hard, gazing deep into those swirls of honey, and it’s all so right. “I love you, too,” he murmurs, “been wanting to say that for forever.”

Tugging gently on their joined hands, Eddie begins to lean back on the sofa. “Come on, baby, let’s cuddle a while longer. Maybe we can gaze at each other some more?”

“Nothing else I’d rather do.”

❄️————————❄️

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Eddie and Steve who dated for a while but broke up over the most dumb shit. Neither of them wants to admit they were wrong so they just go on like that.

After 6 months, Dustin starts texting Eddie at least once a week asking if he and Steve are back together already.

At first, Eddie laughs it off. The kid went through an adaptation process when he first learned the two of them were together so it's expected that he needs a minute to wrap his head around their break up.

In the first month, everyone thought they would get back together.

And then it just didn't happen.

Dustin would text the most random things.

"Steve's getting us tacos. Does that mean you're back together?"

"Steve's watching Star Wars. I'm sure you're back together."

"Steve bought a new vinyl player. Did you two made up?"

At first, Eddie would just laugh and say no. But the texts went from once a week to every other day. Sometimes it was just like "when are you two getting back together?" and it broke Eddie's heart a little.

Things changed when Dustin sent a photo of Steve sleeping in one of Eddie's shirt.

He texted Steve the next day, asking if they could talk.

Eddie apologized. Said he couldn't live without him. He missed him too much. And Steve apologized too.

They kissed, fell into bed together and never looked back.

A few weeks in, they were all at Steve's place. Eddie was doing a DnD one shot for the kids and Steve was there just because he couldn't stand being apart from Eddie for too long.

Sometimes Eddie would even let him sit on his lap during the session, which always earned a few eye rolls from the kids.

But he didn't care. What mattered is that he had his baby with him again.

Everyone was getting ready to play, Steve was setting up the snacks table when Eddie spoke.

"Kinda miss when you texted me every day, Henderson."

Dustin looked up at him with a confused expression.

"What?"

Eddie smiled. "I know you got what you wanted. I just think we could text more often still."

Dustin shook his head, laughing. "Sure man, whatever. I don't think I texted you outside of our gc in over a year but I can do that if you want."

Now it was Eddie's turn to be confused.

"What?"

But Dustin was already engaged in another conversation and it was only when he looked at Steve that he understood.

Steve was looking at him wide eyed, hands froze mid-air. Eddie frowned at him, a silent conversation and Steve just shrugged, laughing it off.

Damn. Had he been tricked by Steve Harrington into getting back together with Steve Harrington?

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

In my mind, Robin has to tag along on most of Steve's hangouts with Eddie. Eddie thinks it's a SteveandRobin thing but really it's because she's the only line of defense between Eddie and Steve.

She just keeps telling Eddie that he should be grateful. He doesn't get it but whatever.

The actual problem?

If Eddie does anything in the vicinity of Steve that's funny or sweet or, even more dangerous, is really nice and attentive to any random child, Steve suddenly gets a look in his eye that means Casual Hangs Can Include a Marriage License, Right?

On Halloween, helping Steve give out candy, Eddie made a little girls night when he saw she was dressed as a princess and actually bowed and once she and her dad were gone Steve put down the bowl and casually said, "After this we need to swing by City Hall real quick."

Thankfully Robin was there to spray him with a water bottle and throw a full sized Milky Way at his head.

Meanwhile Eddie's standing in the background confused as hell wondering why Steve keeps suggesting bureaucracy as a fun activity and why Robin and Steve are whisper-yelling at once another in the kitchen like it's not even legal and you haven't even asked him out yet! and I'm wooing him, Robin, where's your sense of romance? When you know you know! Did you see how he is with kids? And that's quitter talk honestly Robin, I'll break City Hall's doors down and you can sign the papers it can't be that hard.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

In my mind, Robin has to tag along on most of Steve's hangouts with Eddie. Eddie thinks it's a SteveandRobin thing but really it's because she's the only line of defense between Eddie and Steve.

She just keeps telling Eddie that he should be grateful. He doesn't get it but whatever.

The actual problem?

If Eddie does anything in the vicinity of Steve that's funny or sweet or, even more dangerous, is really nice and attentive to any random child, Steve suddenly gets a look in his eye that means Casual Hangs Can Include a Marriage License, Right?

On Halloween, helping Steve give out candy, Eddie made a little girls night when he saw she was dressed as a princess and actually bowed and once she and her dad were gone Steve put down the bowl and casually said, "After this we need to swing by City Hall real quick."

Thankfully Robin was there to spray him with a water bottle and throw a full sized Milky Way at his head.

Meanwhile Eddie's standing in the background confused as hell wondering why Steve keeps suggesting bureaucracy as a fun activity and why Robin and Steve are whisper-yelling at once another in the kitchen like it's not even legal and you haven't even asked him out yet! and I'm wooing him, Robin, where's your sense of romance? When you know you know! Did you see how he is with kids? And that's quitter talk honestly Robin, I'll break City Hall's doors down and you can sign the papers it can't be that hard.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

“Give me your hand.” Steve holds his palm up hoping Eddie takes the bait. Girls have done this to him many times but he’s never been the one to initiate.

Eddie squints at Steve like he’s assessing the situation. “Why?”

“I wanna check something. Just give it to me. I’m not going to do anything weird.” He wiggles his fingers hoping to entice the other boy.

“Fine,” Eddie plops his hand palm up in Steve’s. “You gonna read my fortune?”

“No,” Steve hums, then flips Eddie’s hands over and holds it up to press their palms together. He angles his head to check that they’re lined up, and then grins when his fingertips are a little higher than Eddie’s. “Hmm.” He holds them like that for a moment. Just eyeing their fingers pressed against each other.

Eddie stares back, a look of utter confusion on his face. “What are you-?”

Then Steve shifts his hand to lace their fingers together, and makes another hum of approval. “My fingers are longer but your hand definitely feels like a man’s hand. Nice and rough, like you know how to work with them.” And for added flair, he slowly releases his hold to bring his hand under his chin and leans forward. He’s using Family Video’s countertop to his advantage. “Makes me wonder…” But he doesn’t finish his thought, only flicks his eyelashes up to make pointed eye contact, and smirks while pushing his tongue into his cheek.

Eddie’s still holding his hand mid-air, right where Steve released him, and gawking in some kind of shocked stupor.

**

“What are you doing later?” Steve asks casually. “I was thinking we could…hangout.” He lets the purposeful pause breathe. “Just the two of us… Oh, and your- hands.” Eddie’s hand is still hovering like he’s waiting for Steve to kiss his knuckles. So Steve drags a fingertip along the underside, just lightly across Eddie’s palm. He’s rewarded with a visible shudder rolling across Eddie’s shoulders.

“Uh,” Eddie swallows hard and Steve lets his eyes soak up the movement. No sense in hiding when he hopes it’ll help convince Eddie to say yes. “Yea-yeah, we could do that.” The words come out like Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s spoken, soft and breathy.

“Maybe we can see if my long fingers look good wrapped around anything else.” Steve would never lean that hard into an implication usually, but Eddie looks too adorable and so very much into it. Steve moves his hand back between them and opens his palm, stretching his fingers wide before curling them up. “I could always palm a basketball.” He shrugs innocently. “Maybe there are other things I can palm.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters, and Steve’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t even know he uttered those words out loud. He’s staring wide-eyed at Steve’s palm when he makes a soft groaning sound, probably unconsciously.

“So, what do you think?” Steve grabs Eddie’s hand, still hanging in the air, and runs his hand over it, turning his wrist back and forth. He’s letting Eddie feel every finger slide over his skin. “Wanna come over? Robin’s spending the night at Vickie’s. I’ll have the apartment all to myself.”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie sighs, cheeks pink and eyes a little glazed over.

“Good, I get off at 4. Well,” Steve chuckles softly. “My shift’s over at 4. I’ll probably get off after that.”

“Mhmm, yea-yep, okay.” Eddie takes a deep inhale and finally looks up to make eye contact with Steve. Steve watches reality seep back into Eddie’s face like he just woke up from a dream. “Right, uh, so I’ll-I’ll come over later?”

Steve let’s go of Eddie’s hand and leans forward on his elbows. “Yep, bring your appetite. I’ll feed you.” He says with a wink, cause he’s enjoying this way too much.

“Mmm,” Eddie makes a gentle sound of acceptance and Steve bets if he pressed his hand over Eddie’s heart, he’d feel it beating like a hummingbird’s.

“I gotta get back to work,” Steve nods to the return cart. “Keith’s coming in. But I’ll see you later?” He drags his hands over the countertop to hook his fingers on the edge and lean back. He knows it makes his arms look incredible.

Without hesitation Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s biceps as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” Eddie’s voice sounds gruffer now, almost filled with hunger, like it’s all sinking in and he’s starving for more.

Then Steve watches Eddie slowly back away and leave the store. He feels a little like an idiot for not trying this tactic sooner. If he’d known it would work so well, he would’ve compared their hand sizes back in the Upside Down. Nothing wrong with a little end of the world handjob.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Specs

No one knows that Steve wears glasses, he rarely uses them, his parents shelled out for him to have contact lenses, no matter how much he hated using them.

The last time people had seen Steve Harrington with glasses was when he was still a kid.

But with the running around and getting Eddie Munson to his house for safety, his eyes were getting tired. They weren't doing too well after the last two concussions and he was finding the lenses more tiring.

Fuck it, his parents aren't even home, he pushes on his glasses. Steve went back down the stairs to the rest who hadn't moved from his kitchen.

Eddie, leaning against the counter was the first to see him enter. While Steve knew seeing him in glasses was a shock, he was not expecting the full Eddie Munson experience.

"YOU. OH MY GOD. IT WAS YOU. THAT KID, PUFFY HAIR KID!"

Steve's stunned enough he's paused mid step. What the fuck. What kid. He and Eddie have never had a conversation before. Kid? When was the last time he was a…

"Holy shit, oh my god. You. YOU, YOU'RE THE WORM KID."

"What the fuck is going on?" Robin says as she tries to step between them.

Only Steve remembers now, the piles and piles and piles of WORMs that this one kid with buckteeth and so much hair he could barely see his face left for him on everything Steve had.

"YOU GAVE ME FUCKING WORMS. OH my god you traumatised me."

"TRAUMATISED, excuse me, those were GIFTS."

"WHO GIFTS SOMEONE A SHOE FULL OF WORMS."

"I WAS 8 AND STUPID OKAY, YOU DO THAT WHEN YOU HAVE A CRUSH."

Steve blinks.

Blinks again, like Eddie would disappear, an illusion conjured by his tired mind. But no, he's still there, panting, chest heaving and eyes wide with the sudden realisation of his confession.

"Woooow, you said this guy was cool Dustin,"

"Shut up Max."

"What the fuck do you mean crush? Oh my god, Eddie who gives someone a TRUCKLOAD worth of Worms BECAUSE THEY LIKE THEM?"

"I WAS YOUNG AND DUMB OKAY. I liked worms. I thought it was a great idea. I also got into a lot of shit with Wayne 'cause I stole all his bait for you."

"Since when do you wear fucking glasses, Steve?" Dustin cuts in.

Steve sighs. "Nevermind, let's figure this vecna shit out."

They get back to it, only after that Steve and Eddie seem to stand a little closer. "Remembered you were cute in those glasses."

Steve blushes.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Look, should you beat up the least shadiest drug dealer in Hawkins? No. Do people do it anyways? Unfortunately.

This is what Hopper happens upon driving home from the station. This is also how Eddie finds himself sitting in the passenger seat of the Chief of Police’s truck with a probable broken nose and three undoubtedly bent joints in his pocket, saying, “Well, you know, can’t really afford the hospital so.”

Then Eddie finds himself in the passenger seat of the Chief of Police’s truck driving pass the hospital thinking, wow. Jumped by jocks and murdered by the police all in one day.

He mourns all the times he could have been more annoying, and follows Hopper out of the truck to a little cabin sat back from the road. Hopper tells him to watch for the bear trap and Eddie thinks, what the fuck. He’s about to voice that when he sees it.

Sees him. Sees, “Harrington?”

Steve is tucked into the corner of the couch, messy haired and clearly wearing Hopper’s clothes. He looks beat half to hell with his face bruised and the row a stitches disappearing into his hairline.

Actually, “What happened to you? You look like dog shit.”

“Dog shit,” repeats from behind him and Eddie turns to see a girl with curly hair standing in the doorway of a bedroom.

“Hopper doesn’t like when you teacher her things like that,” Steve says, moves his feet off the cushions so she can sit on the couch with him. “Also, I was kidnapped.”

“You weren’t kidnapped,” Hopper grumbles, having disappeared into the kitchen and returning with a first aid kit. “I don’t like you enough to kidnap you.”

“So, i can leave?”

“You got a parent at home to make sure your brain doesn’t melt out your ears?”

Steve huffs and Eddie is being lead to sit down on the coffee table. Hopper hands him a dishrag and then before Eddie can properly take it, grabs his nose and yanks it back in place. “Ow! Fuck!”

“F-“

“Oh, don’t say that one,” Steve says, shaking his head at El. “Wait until you hear it from Henderson.”

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Eddie's attention is caught mid-rant by the abhorrent sounds of Carol and Tommy H.

"Oh, Steve! Steve, oh, God, Steve-"

Eddie turns in time to see a pretty blush fill Steve's cheeks. Ah, he must have finally slept with the Wheeler chick. She's seated next to him, looking less than pleased about Steve's friends.

From what Eddie can remember, that's actually the opposite of what sleeping with Steve is really like. He's the noisy one, the one who moans and whines and whimpers when he's feeling so good.

"Fuck, Eddie, you feel so perfect-"

"Yeah, right there, Eds-"

"Keep going, I'm gonna, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie-"

"Eddie!"

"Yeah!" He turns away from King Steve and back to the rest of the Hellfire club.

"You were saying, about that cantrip?"

"Right," he says, shaking off old memories. Now isn't really the time to be revisiting them, anyway.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

'Steve Harrington – Actual Babysitter?' (Drabble Prompt: Fluff)

Eddie walks into Family Video expecting to find Steve lolling on his swivel chair behind the counter and flipping through a magazine instead of doing... Well, whatever actually is written on that clipboard Robin is typically flapping about for fear of the wrath of Keith.

But Robin isn't in today and the store is quiet. Aka, it's the perfect opportunity for Eddie to come in with Steve's lunch, where they sit together and chat. No, he doesn't bring it every Wednesday like clockwork. And no, he isn't bringing along his own lunch so he can pretend it's a date or anything.

No – definitely nothing like that.

Even if there is some banter that some people (Robin) might describe as flirting.

It's just that he has to take what he can get lately when it comes to his kinda-sorta big, fat, dumb crush on Steve. Especially now that the guy is disappointingly incommunicado on their no-longer Sunday Night pizzas.

Steve insists he isn't dating anyone – and he sure is complaining about that fact enough. But, well...

Eddie does worry.

And he damn near panics at the sight of an empty Family Video. The store is eerily silent too as he steps inside and looks around.

"St – "

"– Oovie!"

Eddie jolts with a yelp as the babbling yell of what could only be the shrill tones of a whole-ass human child reverberates around him.

"Yes, buddy," comes Steve's voice from behind the counter, "Oh – well, maybe not Rambo."

Eddie tip-toes forward and places his hands on the counter before he peers over the edge, where he finds Steve surrounded by the parts of a dismantled VCR. In his lap is indeed a human child, a boy with chestnut brown hair who couldn't be more than two.

He doesn't know all that much about kids, really, but Eddie is pretty certain the little squirt shouldn't be waving around a videotape with such force Steve might get clomped in the head at any moment.

The boy yell-babbles again and Steve swerves away from a side swipe to his beautiful noggin.

"Okay, maybe we shouldn't play with this one," Steve says, gently placing his hand on the tape and giving it a light tug.

The boy squirms, and in doing so makes direct eye contact with Eddie. They both startle, and Eddie thinks if anyone was watching, they might say his eyes look as wide as the kid's staring up at him.

The boy points at Eddie and coos with a big, toothy grin.

"Stee!"

"Can you stop –" Steve grumbles, cutting himself off as the boy begins to tilt them sideways. He looks up and gasps, "Oh!"

Steve scrambles upright with the boy, who makes an (admittedly, adorable) wooshing sound as he is swooped up and bundled into a pair of burly arms that today appear to be bursting out of the confines of a navy blue polo shirt.

Eddie blushes, looking back at the boy in an attempt to regulate his heart rate.

"What's with the baby, Steve?" he says, trying to sound biting rather than flustered as Steve props the kid on his hip like it's second nature.

Steve takes the boy's hand and bounces him a little as he tries to encourage a wave, "You know Angie, my mom's best friend? This is her kid, George."

George finally waves and Steve grins, all proud in a way that makes Eddie's cheeks blush. Shit, he really wasn't prepared for something like this to happen today.

Or maybe like ever, really.

"George," he nods, offering a two-finger salute.

"Angie stopped by and realised she forgot something over at Melvad's," Steve explains, swaying now as George looks around the store, "So I'm taking care of little Georgie for a minute."

Georgie?

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face.

"I s-see," he splutters as he comes up for air.

"And we are fixing VCRs today, aren't we, Georgie?" Georgie tee-hees at that and oh goddamn it, now the little gremlin is trying to get his tiny, pudgy arms around Steve for a hug, "Then we're gonna pick a movie for Sunday Funday."

"Oovie!" Georgie cheers.

Wait.

"You're babysitting on Sundays?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugs before looking down at George with a fond smile, "I kinda like it, y'know?"

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Dream A Little Dream of Me

Steddie. Contains: wet dreams, arguments, makeouts. 18+only

Eddie groaned, hands running down someone's spine before grabbing their hips.

"You're so fucking perfect," He gasped out. The lewd sound of skin slapping skin filled the air intermingled with moans. "Harder," the person gasps, reaching a hand back. Eddie moves his hand to hold the hand of the person. He glances up to the face peering back at him, into Steve-

Eddie jolts awake with a gasp. His heart beats fast as he tries to catch his breath. His skin is soaked in sweat and realizes that his boxers are soaked with his own release. Which, what's more embarrassing, waking up after coming or having a wet dream about your best friend?

Eddie shakes his head to try and get rid of his thoughts. He runs a hand over his head pushing his hair back as he exhales. "Damn," Eddie mumbles," Just a dream." He slowly gets up to handle the situation in his boxers, unsure if he's disappointed that it wasn't real.

~~~~~~

Eddie isn't a stranger to sexy dreams. He's, to put it plainly, horny. It isn't like he's had much experience, just the guy or girl who has sucked him off in the bathroom at the bar.

So- horny. Eddie knows that can fuel dreams. He once dreamt he was making out with the news anchor on the local news. He dreamt he fucked a fruit once, which almost tempted him to try it.

But point is, Eddie's had dreams like this before. He's been able to brush them off.

But this dream about Steve...

All Eddie can see now is Steve beneath him. Mouth around him. Eddie in him. Every position is running rampant in Eddie's brain.

He feels like everything Steve does now is obscene. The way Steve's muscles flex in his bicep as he puts movies away. The way he moves his hips as he shimmies dancing with Robin. The curl of his lip as he snarls and bitches about customers, just begging to have Eddie's own lips pressed against them. The curls of chest hair peeking out over his shirt, taunting Eddie to run a hand through it. The moles and freckles dancing across his skin, begging Eddie to trace them with his tongue.

Eddie thinks he's losing his mind. He also thinks Steve has to know, and is doing things on purpose just to drive him insane. What ever happened to squatting down to pick up something off the ground? Now Steve is just bending at the waist, ass pressed all up against those jeans, taunting him.

Eddie's emotions are everywhere. One minute he wants to confess his love like for Steve. The next he wants to throttle Steve for making him feel this way. One minute he's jerking off, gasping and moaning as euphoria hits. The next he feels insanely guilty for thinking about his best friend that way.

It gets worse when Steve notices.

Well, Eddie thinks he notices. Steve's eyes seem to stay on him a bit too long. Steve's hands grip his shoulder and squeeze too much. Eddie can't survive this torture. Those beautiful eyes peering into his own, Eddie knows one glimpse and Steve could see his entire being.

Eddie just has to ignore it. If he can ignore it, things can go back to normal. He can deal with it dwelling in the back of his mind. He has for years, ever since seeing Steve on the swimming team- which, great now he's remembering those short trunks on his muscular thighs and-

Eddie screams into a pillow, cursing a few times for added emphasis. Why does Steve have to be so hot? So good? So Steve. Eddie bites the pillow, glaring at the wall over the top of it. Just ignore it, push it back down. But as his cock hardens, he can't help his hand reaching down and thinking, just one more time.

~~~~~~

"Okay, enough!" Steve glares, hands on his hips. Eddie has to try to restrain himself from looking at Steve's hips, his crotch. "What?" Eddie bites back, arms crossing.

Steve huffs and shakes his head," What is with this attitude? If you didn't want to hang out you didn't have to come over!"

Eddie's eyes narrow at the tone. Steve's voice has the same angry bitchy tone he uses when talking about the Worst Customers. Steve is using that voice talking about him.

"I don't have a fucking attitude princess! Maybe watch your damn tone." Eddie throws his hands up and leans back into the couch further. "My tone!? My tone!?" Steve barks out a laugh," What about yours?"

"I don't have a fucking tone!" Eddie glares. Okay, maybe he does. But how's a man supposed to act when their crush answered the door shirtless? Letting his eyes wander down his chest to his happy trail to-

"You've been a sarcastic little bitch all evening!" Steve steps forward, finger pointing against Eddie's chest," You're glaring, you're pouting, rolling your eyes. You're in a fucking mood, don't take it out on me! I didn't do anything!" With each word, Steve jabs his finger against Eddie's chest.

Eddie snatches Steve's wrist, emotions bubbling over as he yells," Yes, you did!"

Steve's eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. The fire in his eyes dies out. "Oh," Steve pauses," I didn't..." Steve tries to remove his hand from Eddie's grasp, causing him to panic and tighten his hold.

"I'm sor-" "Fuck, Steve. I didn't mean it like that." Eddie sighs," You're just...you." "If this is the whole "it's not you it's me" speech I don't want to-" "You're beautiful."

Steve freezes at Eddie's words. Eddie can't help but continue," You're fucking gorgeous man. Your arms, your legs, you know your ass looks good. (Steve hums in agreement) A person who looks that good should have a terrible personality. But you don't! You're kind, protective, selfless. I could go on, I just, damn man. You're the total package and I can't stop thinking about you.

When I go to bed I'm thinking of you, when I wake up I imagine waking up next to you. Hell, even my dreams are full of you! So, yes, I do have a mood Steve. Because I know you could never be with a guy like me."

"Says who?"

Eddie freezes. That's...no, he must be suffering from some form of hearing loss cause there's no way-

"Says who?" Steve implores, hand on Eddie's jaw, lifting his face so Eddie's staring into Steve's. "Uh..." Eddie blinks a few times. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he watches as Steve's eyes trace the movement.

Steve's eyes who, a minute ago had lost all fire, was alight with flames again. Steve's thumb lightly traces Eddie's lower lip, causing a shiver to go down his spine.

Eddie parts his lips, letting Steve's thumb rest against them. He hesitantly licks the tip, giving him a chance to pull away. But Steve doesn't, no, he pushes his thumb harder against Eddie's mouth, causing Eddie to open further.

Eddie wraps his mouth around Steve's finger and sucks lightly. "Fuck," Steve steps closer," You should have said something sooner. You're on my mind too Eddie."

Eddie's eyes flutter closed as his tongue circles Steve's thumb. He can feel himself start to harden against his already tight jeans. Steve pulls his thumb out of Eddie's mouth with a pop. Eddie starts to let out a whine when Steve straddles his lap.

Which- Eddie thinks he's dead. Because Steve hasn't even done anything except sit in his lap and he thinks he's in Heaven. Eddie's hands automatically grasp Steve's hips.

Steve shifts forward slightly, both men holding back moans as their bulges grind against each other. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's neck, leaning forward.

Their noses brush before their lips touch. Eddie can't help but sigh. Steve's lips are as soft as he thought they'd be. Eddie hopes it's good for Steve, cursing himself for not putting chapstick on recently. All sense of time is lost as their lips move in tandem. It could be five seconds or five minutes of them kissing, and Eddie never wants it to end.

They break apart, panting as Steve helps Eddie take his shirt off. As soon as his arms are free, Eddie grabs Steve's ass, a nice handful. He can't wait to worship it later. Steve sheds his own shirt, leaning back to kiss Eddie.

Steve's chest hair rubs against Eddie's sparse own. Steve rubs his hands up and down Eddie's front, pausing a moment to roll one of Eddie's nipples. Eddie whimpers as pleasure licks down his spine.

Steve rolls his hips into Eddie's, causing him to gasp. Steve deepens the kiss, licking into his mouth without hesitation. With each movement of Steve's hips, his clothed cock hits Eddie's just right. Eddie can't hold back the moan that escapes him.

Steve pulls back, a wicked grin on his face. Eddie knows he must look a sight. He can feel his face is flushed, lips slightly swollen from kissing. His cock feels harder then a diamond. A wet spot formed on the inside of his boxers where precum has leaked.

Eddie recalls his dream. How Steve was splayed out in front of him. But as Steve goes to unbutton Eddie's pants, Eddie can't help but imagine he may have gotten it wrong. Maybe Eddie is the one who's gonna be laid out in front of Steve.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Steddie soulmate AU where Eddie is a famous musician, everyone assumes he doesn't have a soulmate. Eddie was just smart and doesn't confirm, doesn't want to go through rabid fans who claim to be his soulmate. He's had too many show up wearing his initials they tattooed on themselves even before he was asked about soulmates in an interview.

Enter Steve Harrington who works as a nurse. Just casually on his third nightshift in a row in the ER. Sipping some coffee trying not to fall asleep when they get the call about some confidential patient coming in.

Eddie comes in for some injury. Steve has 0 clue who he is, just says "You look familiar, did we go to school together?" And Eddie practically falls off the stretcher at Steve's feet. Goes all googoo eyes at him. Steve being mildly concerned because Eddie's heart rate keeps skyrocketing (its because Steve is touching him).

One of the other nurses can't help but try and get the gossip from Steve, who is very much confused as to why she cares about this random patient. She tells Steve who Eddie is, and he's just like ???? Okay???

Steve doesn't admit it but the picture she shows is HOT. It's Eddie, flipping off the camera, tongue out. He's covered in tattoos, including the word 'sorry' written in a weird script on his middle finger. He's shirtless and his pants are so low that Steve can see the dip of his hips creating a v and-

Steve has to walk into the supply room to get himself under control. Pretends it doesn't mean anything and goes back to his job as his heart thuds rapidly in his chest.

Eddie tries not to pass out when they draw his blood, Steve holds his hand. It feels right. Eddie can't help wanting to ask," Hey, do you have a soulmate?" But he hates being asked that question, so he won't.

Until Steve bends over, his scrub top lifting up slightly. Eddie can't help glancing at his ass, but then he can't breathe. Because on his lower back is the initials EJM.

"Steve G. H?" Eddie asks as his voice goes up an octave. Steve turns, bewildered ," How did you-?" "Edward James Munson." Eddie whispers.

Oh

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

@steddie-spooktober day 24: pumpkin | G | 655

“Ope, here he comes,” Robin says, glancing up out the front window of Family Video.

“Wonder what it’s gonna be this time.” Steve sighs, stacking one last tape on the counter before abandoning the task to focus on the incoming metalhead.

“What’s what gonna be?” Dustin asks, looking between the two older teens.

“Eddie’s taken it upon himself to give us a greeting every time he comes in recently.” Robin explains, watching Eddie’s attempts to fix his atrocious parking job.

“Okay, and?”

“It’s been getting more and more ridiculous each time.”

“...Okay…?”

Robin starts to explain, telling Dustin about a couple of notable visits Eddie’s made since the world almost ended.

-

“Merrily met, Lord and Lady Buckley of the great town of Famally Vidu!”

“...I’m ‘Lord’, I call it.”

“You can’t be Lord!”

“I can be whatever I want to be, It’s my last name!”

-

“Hey Stevie, what’s a beauty like you doing in a place like this all alone?”

Steve had just blinked at him, “I work here.”

“And he’s not alone!” Robin calls from where she was crouched behind a nearby shelf.

-

“Good morning Pumpkin,” (“He said this directly to Steve, mind you.” Robin says.)

“Eddie, it’s 3 in the afternoon.”

-

“Hola Querido, Querid-ess.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Eddie, that’s not how Spanish works.”

“‘S how it does in my household, Bobin.”

“Someone tell me what queer-eedo means!”

“It means asshole.” Eddie says quickly, face tinging pink.

-

Steve thinks back on all these, and from what he can remember about that last one (and the shade of red Eddie’s face had turned), he doesn’t think Querido means what Eddie said it did.

“I think he’s been flirting with me.” Steve says, cutting between their conversation, still staring at Eddie in his van. He’s checking his teeth in the rear-view mirror now.

“Yeah, okay, Eddie was flirting with you.” Dustin scoffs.

“No, he was.” Robin says, leaning back on the counter.

“Steve, just ‘cause you had good hair in high school doesn’t mean that everyone’s always flirting with you. And no he wasn’t.” he says, directing this last at Robin.

“Would it be so horrible if he was?” Steve turns around to face him, “If he was flirting with me, that is.”

“No, of course not, he can flirt with whoever he wants.”

“Just not me?” 

“Well duh.” he says as if it’s obvious, “You guys are basically like my brothers, it’d be weird. Plus, you’re not even into guys, it wouldn’t be fair to Eddie.”

“Wait, you know about Eddie?” Robin says, rounding on him, shocked. There’s a dull thud from behind them. Eddie must’ve finally gotten out of his van.

“You know about Eddie?”

The bell jingles merrily above the door, and they turn to look at him.

Eddie takes them in, then says “Hello to everyone except Steve.” he leans forward on the counter nearest him, eyes boring into Steve, “And a special ‘Hello’ to everyone else.”

There’s a two second silence, then, “Oh my god that was horrible.” Robin laughs.

Dustin gags, “Ugh, ew, I think you’re right Steve.” 

Steve, however, is just staring back at Eddie. 

Eddie, who’s visibly getting more uncomfortable the longer it’s taking Steve to respond.

Steve, whose face blazes red a second later, “You’ve been flirting with me this whole time.”

Eddie straightens up, flushing a bit as he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh.. yeah, I have. That okay?”

“Yeah.. yeah, it’s good.” Steve laughs, a little breathless. Then, throwing all caution to the wind, “Hey, wanna go see a movie on Friday?”

This question seems to genuinely shock Eddie, he stands there, frozen, only unfreezing when Steve continues on with “As friends if you want, but I was thinking that since you’ve been flirting with me for the last six months…” 

“No! I mean, yes. Yeah, yep. Absolutely I do. Want to go on a date with you.”

Steve grins, “Cool.”

and then they go see Trick or Treat bc it opened that friday (Oct. 24th 1986) and bc it sounded like a halloween movie, only for it to be the best/worst b-list horror movie about a bullied metalhead named eddie and the ghost of his fave rockstar

rip eddie munson, you would've loved trick or treat

dividers from @saradika-graphics

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Steddie I 3.5k I Sex Pollen I sort of I NSFW I First Time I Dubcon

Steve has just gotten in the door after dinner at the Henderson's when the phone starts ringing.

“Hello?” He answers, distracted by the TV which he apparently forgot to turn off when he left.

“You need to go to Eddie’s. Like right this second.”

“Hi, Steve, how was your day?” He mocks Robin's total lack of manners.

“Do you want to be responsible for his untimely death? Because I don't!”

He ignores the hyperbole. “So why don't you go to Eddie's?”

“Because! One of us has to open tomorrow and one of us is off! So obviously it has to be you!”

“Okay,” he switches the channel from the PBS nature doc to ABC so he can catch up on the game, “I'll bite. Why do I need to babysit Eddie?”

“He was just in the store, raving about Quaaludes and Timothy Leary and shit and then he left before I could chain him to the register. You’ve got to stop him before either he overdoses or he becomes a Scarface level drug lord.”

Steve stares up at his ceiling and wonders at his life. He would never trade Rob and Eddie for Tommy and Carol but days like today have him wondering where he'd be if he hadn't spray painted that marquee.

“You're spiraling but fine, I'll go to Eddie's and make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit or become a drug kingpin.”

“Good. Call me tomorrow.”

She hangs up before he can say another word.

“Rude.”

***

Of course Eddie doesn't answer the door when Steve knocks but it's open and he can see Eddie through the screen, waving him inside without looking up to see who it is first.

“You're just asking for trouble, you know,” he quips as he kicks his shoes off.

“Nah,” Eddie denies, still bent over the wooden tray on the coffee table, “I knew it was you.”

“Oh yeah?” He eyeballs the spread of narcotics Eddie has already somehow amassed. Scary stuff to Steve's untrained eye.

“Yeah, I know Robin called you because she's a huge baby and I know the sound of your car because it's the quietest to ever pull up to my door.” He finally looks up, grin wide and pleased. “Sherlock Holmes ain't got shit on me.”

Steve rolls his eyes and changes the subject. “So what is this science experiment?”

One thing that links all nerds together, Steve has found, is passion. Be it electronics, books, music, film, games, or food, they're all ready and willing to talk about it. Apparently Eddie's current passion is creating Hawkins' hottest party drug. Something about mixing the mellow high of a Sativa with the tactile pleasure of ecstasy. Steve is lost in the technical aspects of what Eddie's saying but the gist is ‘creative genius equals money.’

“And this is a good idea? You selling drugs again?”

Eddie glances up from his scale to scowl at Steve. “Not all of us can be trust fund babies.”

The nerve! Steve rolls his eyes. “My parents are upper middle class, dude, there is no trust fund. And even if there was, I still wouldn't have anything on account of my parents being financially abusive.” Thanks Robin for pointing that out. He wanders over to the fridge, while Eddie mumbles about generational poverty, and grabs himself a beer. It immediately goes onto the back of his neck first, because the Munson's don't have AC and it's hot as balls inside the trailer. There's a fan in the corner but it's not on.

“Hey, why is the fan off? I'm dying here.”

Eddie glances up. “You can turn it on but make sure the oscillating part is turned off.”

Makes sense, don't want to be blowing drugs everywhere. He makes sure the little knob in the back is up before clicking the front on. Blessed moving air blows up his shirt, cooling the sticky sweat along his midriff. He turns to dry the small of his back but the air disappears. It takes all of two seconds for Steve to realize his mistake as Eddie shouts, “Fuck, Steve! Shit!”

Apparently knob up means oscillator on, not off.

He rushes to help secure the goods but it's no use. Instead of just fixing the fan, like he should've done, he jumps in front of the blowing powder and gets himself just as coated as Eddie is.

“Shit,” he moans. “Uh. Are we gonna overdose? Eddie, I’ve never done hard drugs. Except coke once sophomore year and maybe whatever shit the Russians gave me and Robin. Eddie? I'm freaking out.”

Eddie grabs a chunk of Steve's hair and yanks on it, successfully pulling him out of his impending spiral. “Stop freaking out. Go fix the fan.”

“Right.” He rushes to comply. “God, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I fucked that up so bad. How much did you lose? I'll pay for it.”

“Don't worry about that right now.” He gets up, takes the beer from Steve's hand, which he didn't even realize he was still carrying around, and pulls him down the hall. “This is about to get real weird but stay with me on this, okay?” He waits until Steve nervously nods before explaining. “We gotta wash this shit off, sooner rather than later. The sweat is going to make everything soak in faster, so we gotta move quick. I'm gonna let you go first since my tolerance is higher, cool? Just rinse off, you don't have to wash.”

Steve keeps nodding, an attempt to look cool and not like he's freaking out.

“Okay, go ahead. I'm gonna grab us some clean clothes.”

Steve is left by himself in the tiny bathroom. He doesn't waste any time stripping his shirt and shorts off and tossing them in the corner, doesn't wait for the water to heat up either, just gets in cold. Feels pretty good honestly.

“I'm leaving a towel and some sweats on the toilet,” Eddie calls out over the sound of the water. It would maybe be weird under normal circumstances, being in this tiny bathroom at the same time, but it's not even registering on his radar at the moment, too worried about overdosing on party drugs. He's already starting to feel…something.

“Hey,” he calls back before Eddie can leave again, “what did we get dosed with?”

“Uhh, so, mostly Texas Sassafras. Some amyl nitrate. Some gas station boner pills… Nothing too bad.”

Steve glances down at his dick. Yeah. That's the thing he's been feeling.

“Gotcha.”

“You almost done? My tolerance is good but I'm only human.”

Fuck. Steve scrambles to jump out of the shower; Eddie starts yelling and shielding his eyes like a little kid. He snatches the towel, wrapping it as fast as he can, and steps aside so Eddie can get in. He just catches the reveal of Eddie's tattooed back before he shuts the door.

“Don't go back to the living room, just chill in my room!” Eddie yells through the door.

“Okay,” he yells back as he stands awkwardly in the hall. He forgot to grab the clothes Eddie set out…

That starts mattering less and less as the seconds tick by. There's something happening with his skin, distracting from the situation that should be panic inducing, something like the way a sugar high feels but more…localized. He plays with it, touching his arms, his neck, his chest. Even the scratchy towel feels good against his heated skin.

So this is why people do ecstasy...

Eddie has silk sheets. Black silk sheets. Some part of Steve that's operating in the background wonders where he found such a thing but the siren call of how good they would feel against his bare skin is louder.

He lowers himself down, slowly, as if he might not be able to handle the sensation all at once, but he finds nothing but cool waves of pleasure. He groans at how good it feels, stretches out like a cat in a sun beam, all content and lazy. The shower shuts off in the bathroom but Steve doesn't register that as important, he's too busy writhing. The towel feels less pleasant compared to the sheets, so he yanks it away.

“I'm gonna grab some supplies,” Eddie yells from the hall.

“Mmhmm,” Steve groans back, hoping it conveys his understanding. He's a little tied up with scratching his abdomen and then rubbing the warm skin. His thighs next, scratch, soothe, scratch, soothe.

“Okay, I got us some water and-”

Steve turns when the lot of what Eddie has in his hands falls out and hits the floor. “Jesus Christ,” he croaks next, eyes locked on Steve in the bed.

That feels good too, Eddie's wide eyes on him, looking him up and down.

“Oh, I've fucked up,” he mumbles, almost too low for Steve to hear. “Flew too close to the sun on this one. Or no, I'm Prometheus.”

“Hmm?” Steve asks, curious but not enough to stop touching.

“He disobeyed the other gods and gave fire to the humans.” Eddie is tenting his sweat pants, Steve sees the outline clearly. It makes his own cock twitch in sympathy.

“Sounds like a good thing,” Steve points out. Somehow his mouth is still connected to his brain, but he doesn't know how because he's not actively thinking about anything other than what Eddie's happy trail would feel like against his cheek.

“Yeah, no, they chained him to a rock and let an eagle pluck out his liver for all eternity. So, not good.”

Steve's hand has found his erection and is slowly jacking it to the sound of Eddie's voice. “Tell me more.”

His eyes bug out even more, laser focused on what Steve's doing. “What?” His voice cracks.

“Tell me about anything, just keep talking.”

“No,” he whines, shaking his head, wet hair flinging droplets of water around. “You're going to kill me when you sober up. I'm a dead man. You're going to flay me alive.”

He spreads the bead of precome leaking from his head around, marvelling at the sensation. “No. I don't think so. This is pretty great, in my opinion. Would be better if you joined me.”

The noise that escapes Eddie's throat makes it sound like he's in pain. “This isn't happening. I'm passed out on the couch. Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

“Quit being a loser, come hang out with me.” He reaches over the side of the bed, hand stretched toward Eddie.

“You don't want this, Steve. It the drugs talking. You're not queer.”

That doesn't sound right. “I don't know, man, wanting to jerk off to you talking about gods torturing people sounds pretty queer.”

“It's the drugs.”

“I want to bite you. I wanna see your dick. I want you to pull on my balls so I don't come too soon. I want-”

“Ahh!” Eddie slaps both hands over his ears like a kid hiding from monsters in the closet. “Shut up! I can't stay focused if you don't shut up!”

Steve just keeps jacking off, eyes on Eddie's massive sweat pants boner. He gets what Nancy was talking about now.

When Steve doesn't argue, Eddie cracks one eye open, sees Steve still jacking it, and screws it back up again.

“I'm in hell and I deserve it.”

“You having a bad trip?” Steve asks conversationally. “That sucks, man, cause I'm having a great time.”

“I'm having the literal worst time.”

Steve pouts. “If you come over here I'll try to make it better.”

Eddie's face screws up like he's actually in pain but then suddenly it drops and he looks up at Steve again. Determined. It's kinda hot. But then again, everything about Eddie is hot. Even his stupid, shitty tattoos look good right now.

“Promise you won't be mad tomorrow.”

“Mmm?” He's distracted by the little bit of ink peeking out near Eddie's hipbone.

“If we…help each other out, I need you to promise you won't freak out on me tomorrow. That we'll still be friends. That you'll remember begging and how I said no first. Right?”

“I'll beg more if you want me to.”

Eddie growls and launches himself at Steve in the bed. It's glorious, the way they melt into each other, the way their skin sticks and slides, Eddie’s hands all over him. He reaches down and yanks until Eddie's pants are all the way off, wastes no time getting his cock in hand.

“Fuck,” he grunts into Steve's neck.

“Do me too,” Steve commands. “Hurry up, I'm not gonna last long.”

“Thought that's what the ball tugging was for,” he mouths off even though he's got Steve in hand now as well. Their knuckles bump together as they jack too close together.

“You waited too long,” he complains. “Now it's too late. Fuck, you're good at this.”

“Had a lot of practice.”

Steve grunts. “Jacking guys off?”

“Not as many as I'd like, no. Meant myself.”

“Oh.” Yeah that's better. Fantastic even. “Tell me about it. What do you think about?”

Steve feels Eddie swell, twitch in his grasp.

“This, mostly. But I'm gonna need you to forget I said that by tomorrow. Jesus, fuck, right there, just like that.”

Steve keeps his hand consintrated on the head, tight fisted. His own is sliding through Eddie's fist, slick with his own leaking head. He pushes through, hips no longer under his control, thinking about Eddie alone in bed, squeezing his cock head to the thought of Steve doing it. He comes seconds later, getting them soaked. Eddie follows, a pained sort of cry muffled against Steve's collarbone.

They lay in the aftermath, wet and content. At least, Steve feels content. He has no idea where Eddie has landed. It's getting harder to focus on his surroundings, the lights are blinking out. Not in a scary way, just the normal ‘pass out after a stellar orgasm’ sort of way.

Eddie mumbles something about cleaning them up, refilling the water cup, but all Steve can do is hum and smile happily into the mattress.

***

Sunlight rarely reaches into Eddie's bedroom, he bought blackout curtains for just that reason, but Steve wakes up promptly at 6am anyway. Must be some vestigial jock thing, up for practice or whatever.

Eddie hasn't slept a wink. How could he? Do men on Death Row sleep before their executions? Probably not.

He'd tucked the spare sheet around Steve's hips last night to preserve his modesty but Steve kicks them off as he awakens, adorably grumpy.

Eddie nearly swallows his tongue to see all of the man, exposed once again, in his bed.

The sound of him choking alerts Steve to his presence, one eye cracks open to spot him sitting against the door. He frowns but it doesn't look angry. Yet.

Steve sits up gingerly, stretches like he's woken up comfy in his own bed. Once settled against the head board, he looks Eddie over again.

“I see you've decided to be the one to make it weird.”

What. “What?”

“You,” he waves at Eddie, “over there like I might actually bite you. You're making it weird. Why aren't you in bed?”

Because that would put me in punching range. Obviously.

“What.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “This is only weird if you think it's weird, Eddie. I'm not mad. The whole thing was my fault to begin with.”

“No, I'm the one who was fucking around with ecstasy and boner pills, I shouldn't have-”

“Oh my god, would you just get up here?”

He blinks at Steve, still unsure why he's not freaking out more. He should be livid. Filled with heterosexual rage. Bent on straight revenge.

“I can literally see you spiralling.” He lowers himself back down flat on the bed, angled toward Eddie, which is a devastating look. Head pillowed on his arms, hair all over the place like someone ran their fingers through it. He's pretty sure he didn't do that. Fairly sure.

“Eddie.”

“Yes?” He squeaks.

“I'm not mad. You didn't do anything wrong. I actually think that was pretty fun. I can totally see why people do that shit at parties.” He smiles like they're sharing a fun moment.

Eddie is still passed out on the couch apparently.

“You're not mad?”

“Not even a little bit. Except waking up with you on the floor like you exiled yourself from your own bed. That's shitty.”

He imagines for a brief moment waking up in Steve's arms and dies a little inside. Yeah fucking right. Like that was ever an option.

“Okay,” he settles on.

Steve nods, like they're on the same page now. Eddie's not even reading the same book. Steve's book isn't even in English.

“So, uh, you do shit like that often?”

He cocks his head. “No?”

“Oh. So, what? You were just gonna sample your Frankensteined concoction on your own last night? That seems lame.”

That startles a laugh out of him. “Well, yeah, man. Not like I have a ton of parties I'm getting invited to these days. That's half the reason why I was fucking around with something new to begin with.”

Steve doesn't like that, his eyes go all sad.

“So you have something to offer the shitheels in this town? Don't bother, man. They're not worth your effort.”

That's kinda sweet. He gives Steve a small smile in thanks.

“I assume whatever you were trying to make last night wouldn't have been as…intense though, right? It was stronger because of what happened with the fan?”

“Yeah, not meant for topical application.” He reckons smoking it laced into his Mellow Marvin Martian would've been a way more subtle high. Not 'accidentally jerking off your straight friend' kinda high.

“Would've sucked if you got blitzed like that on your own though, right? Probably good I was here to help out.”

And we're right back to square one. “What.”

He shrugs, or as near to it as he can laying on his side. “Happy to help, is all. I mean, I'm sure you would've done alright on your own, considering your…expertise.” He gives Eddie a shit eating grin, not quite teasing, not quite flirting, something in between. Eddie's brain melts through his skull and down the back of his neck. He's just blinking and staring, probably looks completely deranged. But what the fuck is he supposed to say to that? ‘Thanks, I've been jerking off for years?’

“Hey. Sorry if I'm getting the wrong idea,” Steve says, losing his bravado in the face of Eddie's continued silence. “I just wanted to…I mean, if you had a good time... I definitely had a good time! So, like, if you wanted to, I don't know, do this again? Not the possible near overdose, obviously, but the, um, other bit. I'm cool. I mean-”

“Steve,” he chokes out. Steve perks up, ready for whatever Eddie is able to articulate, which seems to be nothing. But he has to rally; he will not allow Steve to leave his place thinking he doesn't want to do that again. In every room. On every available surface.

“Yes.” There. Perfect. Nailed it.

“Yes?”

He nods. “Yep. Yes. If you want. Yes.”

“Cool,” is all he says. He snuggles back under the sheet, looking all content and pleased and happy. Ugh.

“Good.”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Come up here with me.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n.”

He snorts. “Think I was dishonorably discharged from that title when Scoops burned to the ground.”

Eddie doesn't respond. Thinking about Steve in that outfit is forbidden. Or it was back when Steve hadn't touched his dick? Hmm.

Once he's comfortably laying next to Steve, he reaches out and smoothes a hand over Eddie's hair, which must be atrocious. He gives up after a second of fussing.

“Well,” he says with an air of seriousness, “we found out I'm not too straight for hand jobs. Do you think I'm too straight for making out?”

There's no way this is happening. He must be the first man to have overdosed on weed and he died last night. “Only one way to find out,” he answers as though all of this is completely normal.

They share their first kiss with Steve giggling into his mouth.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

robin's read the lord of the rings and the hobbit but she refuses to let any of the party find out because it's far funnier for her and steve to pretend they don't know anything. she keeps calling bilbo "dildo" and dustin gets so heated trying to correct her that he goes scarlet

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Platonic Stobin fic where Robin's parents know she's gay but are waiting for her to tell them in her own time. They're totally fine with it. They were hippies, after all, free love means love for all however they feel it and whoever they feel it toward. They've tried dropping hints like that to her before, but she either didn't notice or only got more nervous afterward, so they're just staying quiet and waiting her out.

Enter Steve who is suddenly over all the fucking time. He picks their daughter up for school (which he doesn't even go to) and work (which they do together, at the same place, at least 3 days a week). He comes over to hang out when they're both off from work. He bought her a giant stuffed Gremlin for her birthday and even offered to throw her a blowout at his house since it was her 18th (they shut that one down VERY quickly-- free love, sure; minors in an empty house with liquor, no). It finally comes to a head when Mr. Buckley hears tapping outside and goes to investigate only to find Steve throwing pebbles at his daughter's window.

And look, it's not like they hate the kid. For being a yuppie capitalist wet dream of a young adult, he's actually very kind and polite. But the only woman Mr. Buckley ever spent this much time with (or spent this much time trying to spend time with) is the current Mrs. Buckley.

Cue Robin's parents trying to (a) speedrun getting Robin to come out because she NEEDS to tell Steve she isn't interested, (b) very subtly tell Steve their daughter isn't in any way interested without outing her, or (c) both.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Steddie Halloween

Halloween after 'Spring Break' must be such a hard time for Steve. This is the guy that regularly hosted costume parties at his house during his King Steve era. And at some point probably hosted more laid back ones for the kids and Robin.

But since the Russian bunker he just... can't.

He has regular and more frequent night terrors of torture that had him and Robin shivering and holding onto one another like buoys. He's been dragged down into the depths of lakes by unseen monsters that left all kinds of scars. He gets migraines from moving too quickly or seeing strobing lights.

He carried Eddie's body out of the upside down, hands slippery in blood. He did CPR and felt Eddie's ribs crack under his hands. He looked at Eddie handcuffed to a hospital bed while doctors said we just don't know yet. Had to watch his Uncle, his father, sit by Eddie every day, rarely leaving his side, staring at his chest like he was grateful for each breath his boy took.

So. He's not really able to do Halloween anymore. And that's hard for him.

But whatever. He'll survive. He's fine to sit on the sidelines if it means the others will have a good time.

At this point, Steve was already coming to terms with his bisexuality. He'd already done a speed run through the Coming Out stages and walked out the other side with the eerie confidence only Steve Harrington could muster. This is a dude who has decided that he's going to flirt with Eddie until the other realizes and gets with the program. He knows Eddie likes him. He's a pro at dating and relationships and crushes. He just needs Eddie to figure out that the not so subtle hints mean something.

And then came Halloween.

He'd already told Eddie during a movie night about how much he missed the spooky season.

(And yes, he did discuss it while openly combing Eddie's hair back from his face and absolutely relishing in the way the other boy was turning all kinds of pink under the glow of the TV. Yes, Eddie was taking his time to catch up but no one said Steve couldn't have fun while he waited).

"Aw man. That sucks." Eddie barely managed to boot up his brain again to answer.

"It's fine," Steve would say, even though it wasn't.

And then, on October 31st, Steve wakes up to a maze in his backyard.

It's not a very good maze. It's mostly just tipped over pallets taken from behind Melvalds as the walls and tarps as the ceiling to block out some of the light. But it's so clearly meant to be some kind of a haunted hallway.

Steve is in boxers and a ratty Hawkins Swim Team t-shirt. He didn't take time to put on shoes, so he's walking across the cold concrete and the dewy grass in tube socks.

There's a sign posted on a piece of cardboard at the entrance.

ENTER IF YOU DARE

He stands there, shifting from foot to foot in his rapidly dampening socks, not quite sure what to do but intrigued nonetheless.

There's whispering and hushed voices from inside. And then Dustin is stomping out from around one of the pallet corners dressed in a suit that's clearly too small for him.

"Come on, dude. Can't you read? You're supposed to enter."

"It says enter if I dare."

"Yeah. So enter."

"What if I don't dare?"

Dustin rolls his eyes hard enough to make them stick, and honestly this kid and his tone.

"Can you just-" He groans. "Look. Eddie set this thing up and he and Robin dragged us all out of our beds at ass o'clock in the morning to put on these stupid haunted house costumes and wait around for you to wake up. So can you please just dare?"

Steve blinks. He looks at Dustin's suit. The tie is a little crooked and he's wearing bright yellow socks with his dress shoes. "I thought haunted house costumes were supposed to be... yunno... scary?"

"Yeah," said Dustin, gesturing to himself. "I'm the corporate grind."

And Steve can't do anything but laugh.

He goes through the little haunted maze. El was apparently having the time of her life and waves at him from a dead end, decked out a dress she made out of bits of stapled paper. "I am very frightening," she assured Steve. "I am overdue bills."

"That is very frightening," Steve agreed and ruffled her hair before going down another short hallway.

No one jumps out. There are no bright lights. Will had drawn decorations that they'd taped to the inside of the recycled plywood warning him of imposter syndrome and sleeping past your alarm and girls. Lucas at least put in a little more effort as a basketball player, though he had his knee wrapped in a bandage they must have picked up at the pharmacy and explained to Steve that the true horrors were being benched all season.

Max had refused to put on a costume and declared that she was scary all on her own.

Even Robin was there, waving at him. There was a cooler besides her. "This is the checkpoint," she said. "All the best haunted houses have checkpoints."

Apparently, the checkpoint included his migraine medication that he'd coincidentally forgotten to take that morning and a takeaway cup of lukewarm coffee.

"I tried to keep it warm!" She flapped her hands, waving them at the cardboard cup. "I literally held it between my knees and everything. But I had to help Eddie out last night to start building and-" she paused. "Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Forget I said that! Just- drink your coffee! Or don't! Is it warm enough? It's probably not. Fuck."

Steve is always shocked at how much more he loves Robin every day.

"It's good," Steve assured her, taking a sip. "Much scarier this way. Nothing scarier than a cold cup of coffee."

When he finally does make it to the end of the maze, Eddie is right there waiting. He's dressed as a vampire, with the stupid fake teeth and blood drawn down his chin with lipstick.

"You escaped the haunted maze!" Eddie put on a show of acting shocked, horrified, angry. His speech comes out garbled from behind the plastic teeth so it sounded more like you ethcaped the ha'ted mathe! It was endearing. Charming. Perfect. "My evil plan is foiled!"

Steve smiled. He looked back at the tarp and plywood and cardboard and duct tape. "You put this all together?" He turned back. "You built me a haunted house?"

Eddie's posturing paused. Despite how much he tried, there was little Eddie could do to hide the way he turned almost shy. He took out the teeth. "Uh. Yeah. But it's no big deal."

"It's kind of a big deal."

"It's really not," said Eddie. "Just- yunno. Figured you should be included." He brightened. "And this isn't everything! We've got a party planned at Joyce's tonight. Low music, we'll keep the lights on. Kids even picked out a movie, but I can't attest to the quality."

"You built me a haunted house."

"I... did." Eddie cleared his throat. He shoved the teeth back in. "But just so you know, it was all part of my evil plan. Which you foiled, My Liege!"

Steve stepped forward. "What was it?"

Eddie paused.

"The evil plan. What was it?"

"Oh. Uh." Eddie swallowed. "Keep you in my evil clutches forever?"

Steve beamed.

Robin had to usher a group of jeering kids away from the Harrington house. It was apparently too much for them to see Steve grab Eddie by the edges of his stupid vampire cape and tug him into a kiss.

"Dracula doesn't swoon," Dustin shouted back at them, covering his eyes.

"This one does," said Steve happily, before going back to work on a very shocked Eddie.

In the end, it did take Eddie a minute to catch up. Once his brain rebooted and he was able to comprehend that he was kissing Steve Harrington, the boy he'd loved since long, long ago.

He spends that night at the party sitting on the couch with his face buried against Steve's chest while the movie played. "You'd been flirting with me?"

"Mmmhm," said Steve, popping a candy corn into his mouth.

"This whole time?"

"Yup," said Steve.

"I wasn't imagining it?"

"Nope," said Steve.

"This is real?"

"Yup," said Steve, and dropped a kiss onto the top of Eddie's head.

"Okay," rasped Eddie. "Just checking."

"Learning how dumb you were being was the scariest thing this entire halloween," Dustin mumbled from the floor.

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Eddie survived the Upside Down. The bats. Vecna. And after the hospital, the town recovery, the shady government agencies clearing his name, after all of that, he has the best year and a half of his life. A lot of it is due to Steve and Robin. Well. The whole group of them, really, but Harrington and Buckley specifically.

Except that, you know, he survived extra-dimensional horrors and now he's going to die anyway, brought down in his prime by his devastating crush on Steve Harrington.

It's a stupid way to meet his end. Even worse than going at the hands of a demented telepathic wizard named after a DnD monster. Though...it's not like he didn't see the crush coming a mile away. Eddie may not have any practical experience in matters of the heart, but he knows he likes a pretty boy and Steve is the prettiest of them all.

There is no dimension where his feelings are requited, so he flirts and he pines, and knows it means nothing when Steve matches him quip for quip, touch for touch. He keeps getting himself in these situations where he thinks--maybe--but Steve is straight, constantly goes out with pretty, bubbly girls.

The pining may kill him, but he's determined to leave this world with a little bit of grace.

Until Steve's Halloween party.

It's a whole thing. All the kids, the rest of their own group of young adults, plus the Hellfire Boys, and the actual adults. It's a weird mix, but Eddie figures that, well. It's a family thing.

Halloween is his favorite holiday, one he plans for all year, but this year he decides to take it easy, electing to do a take on the vampire gang from The Lost Boys. The party is in full swing when they walk in, Wayne quickly spotting Hopper and making his way to the kitchen, but Eddie doesn't see Steve in the chaos of kids and Jonathan and Argyle's dual Frankensteins.

He grabs a beer from Robin who keeps giving him this look all knowing and sparkling and he doesn't understand it, not until he hears delighted laughter and shouts in the main room.

Buckley squeezes past him, and he takes the moment alone to close his eyes, brace for whatever fresh, unwitting, torture Steve has in store for him tonight.

He steps into the living room and time freezes.

Steve's in the shortest shorts Eddie's ever seen, thick, muscular, bitable thighs on full display. He's wearing a pink sweatshirt, neon fingerless gloves that very distantly Eddie recognizes as belonging to El, and gold hoop earrings in both ears.

Eddie has to sit down.

Wham! Isn't his kind of music, and he finds George Michael grating because of it, but--he's seen men dressed like that in magazines he steals from bookstores in Indianapolis, had wondered if George Michael was gay too. And now here Steve is, looking like a fantasy ripped direct from Eddie's brain.

Before he can make an escape, someone turns on the Monster Mash. The two Frankenstein's lurch into the room and start dancing. The rest of them are quick to follow, even Wayne and Hopper, after some light cajoling from Joyce, Max, and El.

It's silly fun, the perfect way for Eddie to forget about Steve and the way his ass looked in those shorts. They dance and goof around, and Thriller comes on, so they all try to do the dance, him and Nancy laughing until their stomachs hurt with their stiff-limbed moves.

The song switches to Material Girl, making El and Max screech, and the next thing he knows, Steve is in front of him, shimmying along. It's the closest they've been all night and now Eddie can see the faint eyeliner smudged along Steve's lash line. Something low and hot tightens in his core.

Steve grabs his shoulders, pulls Eddie closer. "C'mon, Munson, even you have to dance to Madonna!"

He laughs through his breathlessness, can't believe he and Steve are dancing together, not with Steve looking like that, somehow innocent, sexy, and ripe all at once.

Their eyes meet and Steve smiles all slow and dangerous, knotting up Eddie's stomach with a wild kind of anticipation. He doesn't have time to stop himself feeling it, can only give himself over to the shrinking distance between their bodies, the way Steve is warm and muscular against him.

Eddie's not hearing the music anymore, unaware of all their friends dancing close by. He's hypnotized by the dark heat in Steve's hazel eyes, lets himself clutch at Steve's hip, drag their bodies together. He feels Steve's breath escape in a quick burst, and it's a crash of cold water.

He disentangles himself, rushes out the patio doors. The night air is bracing as it chills his heated skin, his burning lungs. He takes a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, lighting it with a shaking hand.

That was too much. He let himself feel too much; want too much. Got swept away by Steve in makeup and earrings and tiny shorts. On the street, he hears children laughing, music thumping from a passing car, tries to get lost in that instead of his embarrassment. It makes him miss the slide of the patio door opening again. Doesn't realize he's not alone until he hears Steve say, "Eddie? You okay?"

He nods, but doesn't turn. "Just needed some air." He lifts the smoldering embers of his cigarette before dropping it and stomping it out.

Steve stands close enough that their shoulders bump. Eddie forces himself not to flinch away. "What are you doing out here? You'll freeze." It's not all a deflection.

"I'm fine," Steve says. "Sweatshirt." He wiggles the sleeve in Eddie's face.

"Yeah, but your legs, man. C'mon." He pulls his jacket off his shoulders. "At least cover them up a little."

Steve gives him an annoyed smile, but takes the jacket, trying to settle the leather around his legs. It's kind of a losing battle, but it makes them both laugh.

"I'm sorry," Steve says. "For back there. I shouldn't have pushed."

"Pushed?" Eddie feels like he missed a couple of stairs on his way down. "You didn't--"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I did, Eddie. And Robin said," he sighs. "Robin said to just talk to you but I'm shit with words, so."

"So?" He faces Steve now, completely perplexed about where this is going. "I'm the one who pushed too far."

"Of course you didn't." Steve laughs a little. "I wanted to dance with you. I wanted to be close to you."

Eddie takes a step back, nervous smile on his face. "Is this some kind of weird joke?"

"What? No! Why would it be? I'm trying to say that I like you, man."

"Wha--But you're--"

"Don't--don't say popular or a jock or any of that. I'm--you know who I am, Eddie, better than most people."

"I was going to say straight."

Steve stills, blinking. "I told you I was bisexual."

"You did not!" Eddie yelps.

"I did! After went to see The Lost Boys!" He grabs Eddie's leather jacket. "I said I thought Kiefer Sutherland was sexy!"

"I thought you were being hyperbolic!"

"I wore this for you!" Steve wiggles his naked calf in Eddie's face.

"I don't like even like Wham!"

"You stared at a picture of George Michael in this outfit in one of El's Teen Beats for fifteen minutes!"

"I did NOT!" Except now that Steve's said it, Eddie has a pretty good memory of doing that very thing. "Wait. You were trying to seduce me by dressing as George Michael?"

"Like you weren't doing the same with the whole hot vampire biker thing?"

"I didn't expect it to work!"

He doesn't--will never--know who closes the distance first, but they crash together in a clash of mouths and teeth and noses. Steve's hands fist into Eddie's t-shirt, Eddie yanking at Steve's belt loops, until nothing separates them.

The kiss breaks as Steve mouths along his jaw, down his neck, and Eddie's fucking helpless at the turn of events. Never in his wildest fantasies--

"Stay tonight?" Steve asks, voice muffled against Eddie's skin.

"Are you kidding, sweetheart? I'm going to tear these shorts off with my teeth."