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steviewashere · 2 months ago

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Flames of Desire

Rating: General CW: NoneTags: 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 no. ‘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.”

❄️————————❄️

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #love confessions #getting together #sappy ending #spicysixbermonthchallenge

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xtrablak674 · 9 months ago

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Greatest Hits

[Originally posted on my blogspot 'Iconclastic Narcissism' on the 29th of December, 2007. Posted unedited, with a few comments for more context or clarity. I was much more explicit in my journaling, even knowing it was open to the public. I am not ashamed of this candidness, but have learned more discretion with age.]

I was watching the second to last episode of LOST where one of the major characters knew he was going to die and put together a greatest hits, simply a list of five greatest moments in his life. I was thinking myself of what would my list look like and I found and interesting trend amongst my own greatest moments. First none of the moments are alone moments but moments that have to do with someone else and are related to an event or holiday. I have made my list in no particular order:

•My first Christmas with Paul

•Valentine's day surprise with Steve

•My first art exhibition that Karl attended

•Losing my virginity with Daniel

•Spending the day my nephew MJ

•Finding my mother dead

X-Mas Tears

My first Christmas with Paul was one of our happiest moments he had got me my first membership to BAM that my friend Eric had promised to get for me and didn't. I was so overwhelmed by the simple thoughtfulness of the gift I burst into tears of happiness. It was a very nice moment. I can say with all honesty that Paul was my most favorite boyfriend.

[Also my longest relationship to date at four years, but the things I learned with Steve greatly influenced this affair.]

Heart-Day Hotness

We had only met each other a week prior on February 7th, but in that time that magic and passion I seem to create with my men was created with Steve, and he designed one of the most romantic evenings I have ever had, which appropriately was on Valentine's Day. He bought me to his apartment shared with two other roommates who he had gotten rid of for the evening. I was blindfolded and walked through the front door, where he had me disrobe and gave me a beautiful candlelit bath, where if I remember correctly he bathed me, toweled me off then slipped me into a pair of burgundy silk boxers and a matching terry cloth robe.

He then led me past his bedroom to the living room where he had moved out all the furniture and arranged a piece of fur chocolate covered strawberries and sparking cider (he remembered I didn't drink). He then lit a fire one of those Duraflame logs, he gave me a gorgeous fossil watch and I think a leather wallet, we made love in front of the flames and fell asleep by the fire in each others arms. Steve was my first boyfriend and really set the bar for how I treated my future boyfriends and where I got the habit of spoiling my men from. One of my shortest relationships only lasting 9.5 weeks but Steve definitely hit the greatest hits in my heart.

Artistic Cherry-Busting

My first art exhibition was a great moment because it was the time I realized that people actually like my photography and thought I was an artist, it was a defining moment for me because I had always struggled with being considered an "artist". This exhibition of 19 of my pieces seven of which sold along with numerous postcards of the work was a total success, that also corresponded with my third date with Karl who attended and got along wonderfully with my friends and got treated to a very Steve-esque romantic picnic dinner in Prospect Park with me later that evening as we watched Close Encounters of the Third Kind tying into my three theme of the date. Making the entire day a wonderful moment and a greatest hit.

Statutory Rape #NotReally

[BTW the age of consent in New York State is seventeen]

Even though I had been sucking dick since I was eight years old, I didn't lose my virginity (having a man penetrate me) until I was seventeen. The funny thing is that Daniel who was 28 at the time thought I was like 25 and was a little shocked by my revelation of my age after his deflowering me and the level of experience I showed with the event (I had practiced with candles and dildos). Having a man inside of me the first time was a very overwhelming moment and I remembered crying a little when I came, I was so emotionally overwhelmed with the experience of the fullness and the pulsing of Daniel's member inside of me. It was a moment of great intimacy and a little fear but great happiness.

[I wouldn't learn until I think '04 that the sexual relations I had as a tender-aged child were in fact sexual abuse. I only became aware of this when reading a book to understand a boyfriend's sexual abuse as a child. This revelation set an upheaval in my sexual activity leading to my over a decade celibacy, while I reset myself and moved away from the toxic behavior I had been practicing for years.]

Playing Uncle

I don't think I realize how much I enjoyed being a big brother and an "uncle" until I was denied the privilege. The last time I saw my nephew MJ was also one of my happiest moments. Meeting his mother, his little sister and spending the day at Bryant Park on the merry go round then off to Toys-R-Us for a ride on the Ferris Wheel and finally dinner at Olive Garden was a very happy day for me.

I had bought gifts for both of the kids and the mother. I was so saddened that when she moved she fell out of contact and I never saw MJ again, until years later. I have several nieces and nephews, and by default MJ became the favorite because I had spent the most time with him, most of them I haven't even met and am not sure if they even know I exist its sad, but I don't hold the children at fault but the parents and I will make arrangements for all of my nieces and nephews in my estate planning.

[Now some of the children have children, and I don't think I have met any of their kids yet and there are like four of the kids I haven't met. Its the saddest part of being a part of a family that has lost the matriarch, there isn't anyone to encourage the family to stay together.]

She's Dead Jim!

Finding my mother dead on the couch I have to say is one of the most life defining moments for me. I know its maybe odd to have on a greatest moments list, but I would not be the person I am today with out my mother dying when she did. I wouldn't have the strength, independence, perseverance and common sense that developed in her absence. I happily admit I was a momma's boy and my mother spoiled her boys (as I spoil my men), I got away with murder in my mother's house, and could nearly do no wrong, and the wrong I did do, I learned to charm myself out of any significant punishment. No single moment has effected me as much as her death even though it was more then two decades ago, its still one of the most significant moments in my life.

[As of this year its been exactly forty years since she's been dead. I have been alive way longer than I ever had parents.]

[Photos by Brown Estate]

#greatest hits #LOST #reflecting on life #happiest moments #memorable moments #moments #life moments #reflecting

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