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stervrucht · 7 months ago

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Rated: E | Words: 2.8K | Tags: Angst, fluff and smut, sexual humor, bad dirty talk, light dom/sub, praise kink, established (new) relationship | AO3

Eddie is inexperienced.

Steve didn’t know it at first. Might have been able to guess from the fact he never heard any rumors about Eddie regarding that. And really, he mostly just assumed that those he regarded as ‘freaks’ back in the day—a thought that makes Steve wince in shame—were a bunch of perpetual virgins.

So there were no rumors, really, except for what was written on the bathroom stalls. Sharpy on metal suggesting Eddie might sell more than a bit of grass.

All lies, Eddie told him. Though he did admit he might have received a handy for a few grams of weed once.

Might.

Steve isn’t sure if Eddie’s just fucking with him at this point.

Either way, it doesn’t really matter that Eddie doesn’t have much experience—Steve has enough for both of them. And besides, when it comes to men, they’re both technically virgins.

That somehow makes it better.

Steve loves to explore unknown territory together—loves fun when it comes to sex. He didn’t particularly enjoy some of the girls who would just lay there and expect him to do the work, oftentimes without much encouragement at all. And Eddie isn’t shy by any means. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for with enthusiasm, and it’s all Steve could ask for.

They got lucky this week—Eddie has made that abundantly clear. Can’t shut up about it, really.

Wayne is on a fishing trip and they have the trailer all to themselves. It’s a rare treat, especially since the Harrington Residence became off-limits with his parents home from their business trip.

Eddie has it all planned out: ‘one week to fuck themselves into an early grave’.

Eddie’s words, not his.

And it’s some much-needed time alone because Steve learned quickly that Eddie is loud. One night when Wayne was still home, Steve slipped through Eddie’s window for a little midnight fun, only to be met with Wayne’s insistent knocking on the bedroom door once they really got going.

It was mortifying, really. And Steve’s glad Wayne is relatively cool with it. Cool as long as they don’t involuntarily include him through sound that is. So yeah, that night ended mutually blue-balled, and from then on they tried to time it a little better. Make sure Wayne is away or drive the van somewhere remote and have some uncomfortable car sex.

So Eddie is fun and hot and vocal, but there’s one thing he absolutely can’t do—

“I’m going to bite your drumstick,” Eddie says as he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of Steve’s inner thigh. Eddie’s cheek graces his rapidly hardening dick still trapped in cotton boxers and Steve lets out a sound—a choked moan as the words sink in.

Eddie is steadily working his way up, tongue and teeth moving up his leg and curious fingers dipping underneath the cotton-covered skin of his upper thigh. Steve’s mind is lagging—trapped somewhere between aroused enjoyment and absolute bewilderment.

“W—what did you just say?” Steve can’t keep the strain on his voice from slipping in.

Eddie’s teeth release his flesh and he raises his head from between Steve’s legs. He holds Steve’s eyes for a second before looking away. Steve feels something whispered against his skin.

“Eddie?”

“I said,” Eddie still looks away, defiant and shy, “ I’m going to bite your drumstick.” He whispers that last part, but this time Steve is sure he heard correctly. He feels a smile pull at his lips and the muscles in his stomach straining with barely contained laughter.

“Drumstick ?” his voice is high and strained, almost a cry.

Eddie frowns at him. “It’s not that funny.”

It is. Once the laughter starts, he can’t stop. Steve is full-on laughing. His body is shaking with it as Eddie lifts himself from between Steve’s legs into a sitting position.

“Drumstick!” Steve repeats shrieking.

Eddie’s frown grows. He pushes himself away from Steve until he’s standing on the side of the bed. Eddie doesn’t seem to find it very funny. Steve realizes his mistake too late as he wills his body to calm down. Eddie’s eyes move over Steve’s chest, barely contained laughter making muscles jerk every now and then.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is walking towards the door of his bedroom.

“Wait, Eddie. Please, stay! I—” Steve can’t finish his sentence before Eddie slams the door behind him.

Now the shock is kinda settling in, Steve realizes it may not have been as amusing to Eddie.

Eddie, who was serious in his attempt at dirty talk.

Eddie, to whom sex is new and doesn’t understand it doesn’t have to be that serious.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers to himself.

Steve doesn’t believe in astrology, but he definitely thinks the whole ‘fucking themselves into an early grave’ thing isn’t written in the stars tonight.

With a sigh, he lifts himself off the bed. Eddie won’t have gone far. Not in his current state of dress, which was a pair of dumb Muppet boxers.

When Steve enters the main area of the trailer, he sees Eddie rummaging through the fridge. He stands illuminated by the cool fridge light and pulls out a beer. He forcefully sets it down on the kitchen counter and Steve watches as Eddie opens it with a hiss. It overflows and Eddie curses as he leans down to catch it with his mouth.

“Eddie?” Steve tries tentatively.

Eddie ignores him. Instead, he picks up the beer and takes a big swig as he moves to the couch. He throws himself down, shifts down, and rests his elbows on the back of the couch.

A perfect picture of indifference.

Steve crosses his arms. He hates it when Eddie gets like this, all sulky and stubborn. By now, he knows Eddie wants him to keep prodding and poking until he relents, but it’s a dumb dance. Dumb, but one he’s willing to do because he’s just that stupidly in love.

He walks over to the couch and stands in front of it. Eddie is purposely avoiding his gaze as he sips with theatrical nonchalance from his can.

“Can I help you?” he speaks into the can, his voice deformed by its aluminum interior.

“Don’t be like that.” Steve gets down to his knees and settles himself between Eddie’s legs. He runs his hands up Eddie’s thighs soothingly.

Eddie ignores him. He takes a big gulp of his beer and holds the can out in front of him, studying it with mild interest.

“Eddie, c’mon.” Steve pleads, “How will we fuck ourselves to death if we aren’t fucking.”

Steve is playing dirty. Talking his way into Eddie’s plan— their plan. He knows Eddie’s stubbornness has its limits.

Eddie finally offers him a glance. Steve sees a spark of poorly concealed interest.

“How about you go fuck yourself?” The words are harsh, but when Steve looks up he doesn’t see malice in Eddie’s eyes. Just mild annoyance.

“How about I do?”

Steve sees a glint appear in Eddie’s eyes, and now he knows he’s got him.

“Sit.” Eddie lifts one of his legs and sets his foot against the coffee table. Steve climbs to his feet and does as he is told. The wooden surface feels cold against his bare legs. He stares at Eddie with anticipation bubbling in his gut.

“A lil’ wider.” Eddie takes a final gulp and pushes Steve’s legs apart with his foot. He feels his dick twitch with arousal. It’s something new and exciting he hasn’t experienced before; pushing the boundaries of what they’re familiar with. Eddie throws his empty beer can in the general vicinity of the kitchen, eyes not leaving Steve.

Eddie pushes his foot against Steve’s dick, giving it a few rubs through his boxers and scoffs. “Take it off.”

Steve fakes coyness as he lifts his hips ever so slightly to peel the fabric away. Once it’s halfway down his thighs, Eddie’s foot comes up to pull it all the way down.

Eddie shifts in his seat, legs spread wide and his own growing interest barely concealed. His eyes are blown wide as he looks at Steve, lips slightly parted and fingers flexing.

“Touch yourself,” Eddie orders.

Steve spreads his legs a little wider and palms himself; wraps his fingers around his cock and starts at the top to spread some of the precome that collected there. Runs his hand down slowly, eyes not leaving Eddie. He watches his face—studies it really. Eddie can hardly keep a straight face, his exaggerated annoyance slipping fast.

Steve strokes himself slow and steady until he’s fully hard, cock standing tall and proud. Eddie shifts again, adjusts himself with his eyes fixed on Steve’s moving hand. His sulking demeanor now completely replaced by something softer, more hungry. Still, he’s a little stubborn. Refuses to touch himself, even when Steve ups his pace. Even when Steve whispers his name.

“Suck your fingers.” Eddie's voice comes out breathy. He bites his lip and rubs a restless hand on his leg. Fingers flexing with barely maintained self-restraint and chest heaving in arousal.

Steve wonders how long Eddie will last as he brings two fingers up to his mouth and slowly rubs them on the soft pad of his tongue.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. His fingers are digging in his thighs now. Erection straining against the fabric of his stupid muppet boxers.

Steve fucks the fingers in and out of his mouth. He’s making a mess now. Saliva dripping down the palm of his hand. He imagines it’s Eddie. Can almost imagine the weight of him on his tongue—

“Fuck yourself open for me.” Eddie presses himself back on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground as his hips seem to lift ever so slightly.

Steve feels an involuntary gasp escape his lips.

So, Eddie is bad at dirty talk, but he is apparently very adept at whatever it is they’re doing now.

Steve thinks this is probably the most turned on he’s ever been in his life.

He shifts his hips, tilting them to allow himself a little more room. He pulls his fingers from his mouth and pushes a wet finger in. He winces a little at the feeling. Not entirely unpleasant, just strange. It wasn’t the first time they’d done it like that after all, but Steve couldn’t say he was an expert.

He moves his finger a little, pumps it in and out in tandem with the hand on his cock. Lets out a little moan as he feels himself relax around it and adds a second one.

Eddie is staring him down. It’s a type of focus Steve doesn’t see often. Eddie seems to have lost most of his restraint, He is lazily grinding his palm against the tent in his boxers now.

“Fuck,” he groans, “Steve, c’mere.”

Before Steve can give any sign he will be moving it all, Eddie pushes his own boxers down, dick bouncing free and happy from its confines,

“I thought I should go fuck myself,” he breathes. He barely gets the words out coherently. He’s breathing hard, hands collaborating like a perfect machine.

“I changed my mind.” Eddie shifts himself in a more upright position, leans forward and grabs Steve’s wrists, willing them to still.

Steve whines. “So I’m forgiven?”

“You will be if you get on my cock right now.”

“That depends on where you left the lube,” Steve says eying the bedroom door.

“First drawer as always. Go get it, tiger.” Eddie winks at him, “I’ll keep it warm for you.” He gives his dick a few lazy strokes and Steve rolls his eyes.

He quickly gathers the lube. Decides to grab a towel too, for Wayne’s sake, and makes his way back to the living room.

“Catch!”

He throws the bottle to Eddie. He barely manages to raise his hand in time. The bottle bounces off his hand and lands on the couch.

“I thought you were making it up to me. This is violence!” he cries waving his hand in fake hurt. Eddie is grinning from ear to ear.

“Fine, redo,” Steve says as he balls the towel and throws it Eddie’s way. He catches it this time and works it under him.

“C’mere.” Eddie pats his lap and pulls Steve in by his neck to sit him down. Eddie places an open-mouthed kiss on his lips, diving in tongue first, and Steve whimpers. It’s all hot and wet and messy. No patience left for anything more coherent. Eddie snakes a hand on his lower back and pulls him forward until their dicks are pressed flush together. Steve moves his hand between them, wraps his hand around the both of them and moves it eagerly.

Eddie moans into his mouth and Steve swallows it, pressing his lips over Eddie’s, breathing him in like air.

“Lube?” he mouths against Eddie’s lips. Keeps stroking the two of them at an agonizingly slow rate.

Eddie lets go of Steve then, reaches for the bottle and squirts a generous helping on his hand, smears it between them, and swats Steve’s hand away as one hand reaches for their cocks and the other finds its way between Steve’s cheeks.

Eddie wastes no time and picks up where Steve left off with two fingers inside him. Works him open well and deep as his other hand works their cocks—a little faster than Steve did. It’s overwhelming and Steve can’t stop the sounds that escape him. Every now and then he feels Eddie hit that spot. Feels a sharp wave of pleasure roll over him that makes his back arch and makes him lose all his senses. If it goes on for too long he won’t last.

“I’m ready.” he pants.

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls his fingers away and Steve mourns the loss, if only for a second. He doesn’t have to wait long. Eddie places two heavy hands on his hips, holding Steve as he guides him. Eddie groans loudly, whines at the slowness with which Steve works him in.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Stevie. Perfect every time.”

Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. It’s ridiculous that he sits there with a cock up his ass and it’s Eddie’s praise that makes him blush like a virgin.

It always does.

Once Eddie bottoms out, Steve takes a moment to adjust before moving again. It’s an agonizingly slow rate, he knows. He leans back, hands on Eddie’s knees as he slowly works himself up and down. Eddie is watching him. Worshiping him as he runs his hands up and down Steve’s sides, guiding him on his lap.

Steve picks up his tempo, hitting that spot more consistently now as Eddie fucks up into him.

“So good for me,” Eddie whispers against his neck as he leans forward, one hand sprawled on Steve’s lower back to bring them closer. The other finds Steve’s cock, strokes it in a messy attempt at rhythm. Steve’s movement grows more erratic until Eddie is doing most of the heavy lifting. Fucking up into Steve at a punishing rate, stroking him until Steve feels wave after wave of pleasure course through him like electric current. Pressure building low in his abdomen, moaning and groaning together with Eddie as he approaches his peak.

Back arched and biting his lip, he paints Eddie’s stomach in come as Eddie continues to fuck into him.

“Just a little more, baby.” Eddie groans against his throat, bites at it as his hips begin to stutter and he hits Steve deep and hard. Eddie lets out an animalistic grunt and Steve leans forward, his body heavily against Eddie’s, arms around his neck. Eddie gives a last few lazy pumps, lips loving lazily over Steve’s throat, pressing kisses at the ghost of his teeth.

Their skin is sweat-slick, chests heaving, and Steve can feel Eddie’s hammering heartbeat reverberate where their chests are touching. Merging until they beat as one.

He buries his face in Eddie’s hair, the curls tickling his nose as he breathes in deep. He smells like cigarettes, hairspray, and cheap shampoo, and Steve revels in the comfort. Eddie’s hand is drawing lazy circles on his back when Steve pulls back.

“So, about those drumsticks,” Steve starts sheepishly.

“Oh, no, no, no, Steve. That topic is officially off-limits! Prohibidado !”

Steve rolls his eyes and leans down to peck Eddie’s lips.

“Consider it forgotten.”

“Then consider yourself forgiven. Thank you for saving fuck-week.”

“We’re not calling it fuck-week.”

“I so am. Now, let’s get washed up, huh?” He slaps Steve’s ass as he says so.

“I’m regretting this already.” Steve lifts himself off Eddie and stands up, legs a little shaky from his position.

“No take-backsies,” Eddie says as he places a kiss on Steve’s cheek and guides them towards the bathroom.

AO3

#steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #my fics #ster writes steddie #i never posted the full thing here #🌶️

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