#ItsSteddieTime

[no-context-nonsense]

I’m sure it’s still Saturday somewhere. What are you crying about this week?

[infinite-orangepeel]

Without realizing, almost like a magnetic pull, his eyes land on Steve.

Steve, who is staring straight back at him with a look Eddie can only describe as a mix of anger and lust. A silent warning.

Eddie feels himself grow hot under Steve’s gaze.

So he does the only thing he can think of—slowly, never once breaking eye contact, he lifts the apple to his mouth, and takes a huge bite. His teeth tear through the red skin, the juice dripping down his chin and wrist. He chews slowly, deliberately, before swallowing the fruit.

Steve’s eyes are heavy-lidded as he stares at Eddie like a man possessed. Eddie’s head reels from the power he holds. Steve Harrington, wrapped around his finger. It gives him a thought. One he should definitely not give into. But Eddie likes to play with fire, always has.

He sets the apple down on the table, his hand now covered in sticky juice. He licks his fingers one by one, pushing them into his mouth in the dirtiest way he can. He imagines getting down on his knees for Steve—the pretty noises he’d make.

Eddie wants him.

Badly.

He knows he’s being unfair, cruel even. But Steve can’t tear his eyes away. So Eddie takes his fingers out of his mouth and smiles, pausing one last time to lick a long stripe up the side of his wrist.

All at once, he sees Steve’s expression change like he’s been punched in the gut. He looks around frantically, like he’s trying to see if anyone noticed their interaction. Nobody even bats an eye. They’re all too absorbed in eating and enjoying their lunch-time conversations. It’s almost like Steve and Eddie slipped into some space between dimensions—a stolen moment in time. Just for them. Or at least that’s what Eddie is thinking.

Steve clearly has other thoughts, as he stands suddenly, snatching his tray from the table. He gives Eddie a withering glare and turns, dumping the entire tray and its contents into the trash.

Eddie feels his stomach turn as Steve runs from the room. He wants desperately to run after him. To take his hand and tell him everything is ok.

But he stays—frozen to his seat, spit drying on his hand, and shame taking root in his body.

EXCERPT FROM: BLUE ON BLUE (linked below)

currently co-writing this with maya (@itssteddietime) & it would mean the world to us if you’d take a second to check out the first two chapters 🩵

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[maikaartwork]

Prompted by THIS TWEET by itssteddietime (if you’re here let me know so I can link you please!!!)

And here’s the original photo ref: