I’ve decided that my WIPs should be somewhere. This is wolfstar, modern au (where Sirius and James have a tiktok account). It was supposed to be multi chaptered (basically just gonna be Wolfstar doing couples trends on tiktok, but they’re not actually together yet), but I only fully completed the first chapter. But it’s just rotting away so here, it’s about 1k.
I’ve made this a thing now so;
Next
Their video went viral two months ago. Sirius and James precariously attempted to pet a pigeon. Gotta give the guy credit, Pete’s great at dares.
He recorded it all, planning to use it to blackmail the two in the future. Nothing like friendly bullying between mates. And he got some good footage, a pigeon did fly in James’ face and Sirius stepped in poop, but then Remus just had to help.
He went to the shop and grabbed some bread. So they could lure a pigeon in. And in a shocking turn of events, they managed to pet one eventually.
They posted the video as a joke.
It took the algorithm only a few weeks to hit all the UK uni students currently withering away behind their desks.
And soon Pads and Prongs went viral.
And so as James and Remus crashed through uni, Pete cruised through his internship as a sous chef, and Sirius desperately search for artistic inspiration, they kept an online presence too.
Sirius and James documented their crazy days of boring work and painting, and entertained their fans with late night lives at their flats and short tiktok clips of dumb pranks. James’ hair was pink for a week. It was hilarious.
The internet was quick to fall in love with James’ long distance relationship with Lily. Pete popped up to show off his cooking sometimes. Remus appeared in the background sometimes. Sirius finds it unbelievable that he hasn’t realised how much the tiktok book girlies already love him.
And that’s what lead to last night. The marauders, a nickname from school and therefore an embarrassing inside joke, are all huddled in the small living room of James and Sirius’, eating Pete’s cake and cuddled under blankets. Their live and just chatting with the fans, relating over awful projects and difficult teachers.
“Not that this cake isn’t amazing, but does anyone want actual food? I could order takeaway since clearly none of us want to get up and make shit.” It’s a good suggestion from James, but Sirius isn’t really hungry.
“Yeah i’d have food mate.” Remus agrees and then so does Pete.
“I’m good i’m not hungry.” James shoots him a vaguely sceptical look, and asks him if he’s sure.
“Yes i’m sure James.”
They decide on simple fish and chips. Usually they get something, as James would say, with more taste. But the chippies the only place that’ll bring them food and not take more than two hours. It is a Friday after all.
Since they’re using James’ phone for the live, Remus takes his phone out and takes Pete and James’ order.
So they continue along chatting and rather quickly the questions about Remus, who’s been pretty quiet all evening, increase from about 50% of the comments to 75%.
“Just appease them a bit Lupin.” Remus glares at James for that.
“I have no clue what the people on your phone want to know about me James.”
Remus has a tendency to refer to technology as if he’s a grandpa who understands nothing beyond a radio. Sirius has heard people call it annoying but really it’s just endearing. At least to Sirius.
“How about that book you read Moony? Red, White and Royal Blue? Apparently you were caught making some choice expressions while reading in the background of me and James’ last tiktok. Did you like it?”
Remus gives him a disapproving look, likely annoyed at Sirius’ question. Apparently books need more detail than just a simple, yes it was good, or no it was not.
“Well… okay do your phone people really care about my opinion?” Remus turns to James. He replies that yes they obviously do. The comments are going crazy over having Remus’ attention.
“Fine. I enjoy Casey McQuiston’s writing style. I thought it was entertaining and I really liked how Alex and Henry complimented each other. Henry was able to calm Alex and Alex’s able to reason with Henry when he’s struggling.”
Sirius looked blankly at Remus.
“Oh come on Moons. You spent like 2 hours explaining the whole book in depth and going on and on about your favourite characters and lines. Your book is annotated all over. At least share with the audience your favourite quotes.”
Remus sighs beside Sirius. Sirius really wants to hear these though. Remus seemed to love the book and Sirius often finds listening to him describe something he loves is always majestic. He details it all with elegant words until you’re eating out the plan of his hand.
“I guess I thought it was pretty funny when Nora said, How did I know I was Bi? I touched a boob. Wasn’t that profound.”
“Remus.” Sirius whines.
“Oh fine. There’s a tone of quotes from that book I love. There’s I love him on purpose. Or he tells his too fast brain: don’t miss it this time, it’s too important. I- erm- I guess I also kind of love this thing Henry says, it’s like And I thought if someone like that ever loved me, it’d set me on fire. But then I was a careless fool and fell in love with you anyway.” Remus has not taken his eyes of Sirius once as he quotes this beautiful book. How does he remember those lines just of the top of his head?
“You know what though,” His voice takes on a soft tone. The one he reserves for kids, animals, things he loves, and sometimes Sirius. If he’s in a good mood. “my favourite, has got to be When have I ever, since the very first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you?” Remus’ eyes are rich and deep and chocolate. Sirius wants to paint them.
“Moony!” James interrupts their eye contact. “Now they’re all gonna be in love with you, damn it.”
Remus chuckles and glances to the side.
“Doubt that Prongs. But yeah I loved the book. Oh and erm- food should be here soon by the way guys. Just got the notification to say it’s on its way here.”
Remus then clearly decides he’s done enough socialising with the internet so he grabs his current book, Song of Achilles, and carries on reading.
And of course, because he’s so easy to deal with already, Sirius’ stomach, as if it has a mind of its own, decides now is the time to become bloody starving.
He glances guilty at Prongs, who furrows his eyebrows as if to ask what’s wrong.
“Hey Moons,” Sirius raises the pitch of his voice slightly to warn Remus he’s about to be a bit annoying. Remus glances up, squints at him and tilts his head.
“Remember when I said I wasn’t hungry?”
James bursts into laughter and Pete chuckles. But Remus just goes back to his book. And once the laughter dies down he, without even lifting his head from reading, tells Sirius,
“Idiot. I know. I ordered you food when I ordered ours. I know you. I knew you’d be hungry.” He rolls his eyes but goes straight back to the book.
The entire internet sees Sirius’ doe eyes but Remus does not. It sends James up the wall.
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Eyes wide, body frigid in terror, Eddie felt the sheer horror of the current situation sank in.
He was at Gen Con.
In their hotel.
With zero vacant rooms and one minor, Henderson created, screw up.
The room only had one bed in it.
“It’s fine, we can share.” Steve said, brushing past.
Like this was not the life ending, earth shattering, soul rendering issue that it was.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Eddie croaked trying to remember how a normal person acted instead of someone whose stomach had just fallen out of their ass.
“Nah, I did this all the time with the basketball team.” Steve said as Eddie actively regretted every single decision that had led to this point in his life.
“Hell this is even a king sized bed. We have plenty of space!”
Steve did a goofy little spin jump, landing butt first on the bed and bouncing on it with glee.
“Space, sure.” Eddie echoed.
Hands shaking, eyes determinedly focused on anything but the ex-jock, Eddie found himself chanting a mantra over and over in his head.
One that would valiantly get him through the next weekend, God and D20's willing.
'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'
“I don’t have cooties, if that's what you're worried about.”” Steve waggled his eyebrows. "Here, I’ll even let you have one of my pillows.”
Said pillow was flung through the air, to smack Eddie dead in the face.
'Fuck it." Eddie thought wildly. "I am NOT fine!'
And after Eddie got his hands on him, Dustin Henderson wouldn't be either.
xXx
“I am going to kill you.” Eddie snarled, the very second he could get Dustin alone.
“No you won’t, you love me too much.” Henderson dismissed, a smug little smirk in place.
The absolute brat.
“I do not, and if I did, I would take it back after this.” Eddie glanced around once again, beyond paranoid about discussing this in the open parking lot of a shitty hotel, but knowing he needed to get this under control, now.
“What were you thinking!?”
“That I read a really interesting zine about this exact scenario, mostly.” Dustin shrugged. “Worked out great for them, I thought I’d try it for you!”
Eddie groaned, head flying back as he fisted both hands in his hair.
(if only to prevent himself from wrapping both hands around Dustin’s stupid throat.)
“What did I tell you? This isn’t something you fuck with man!”
“I know, but as I told you, Steve is perfect!” Dustin protested, and didn’t even have the decency to flinch when Eddie lost control and grabbed him by the collar.
“Perfect!?” He sputtered, actually sputtered, shaking the fist that held Dustin's shirt captive. “Perfect!?”
“Trust me on this--you have a crush on him, he desperately needs someone in his life--seriously, Eddie, it’s sad how he acts when he’s not dating--and you guys get along great now! What’s the problem!?”
“He’s straight!” Eddie shrieked, startling several onlookers.
“Laced!” He added immediately after, in panicked afterthought. “He’s so straight laced we could never get him to agree to that plan!”
Dustin leveled an unimpressed look at him.
“Dude, really?”
“We are still in Indiana, Henderson.” Eddie said, then got close enough that he felt comfortable hissing the next part through clenched teeth.
“They don’t exactly care for the queers here, even at a place like this.”
“Are you sure? Because the Con’s welcome packet has a few different panels that--”
Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face, letting go of his idiot, freshman friend's shirt to grab at his hair again.
“Henderson, for once,” He pleaded, and maybe it was the sheer desperation in his tone or how upset he looked but either way Dustin seemed to finally realize how serious he was.
“just once, I need you to listen to me. You cannot let Steve know I’m gay. This is something that has to stay between us, especially now I’m sharing a bed with him.”
Which Dustin knew, because Dustin was the one who’d called and changed the room.
“But Steve’s--”
“Most likely bisexual, I heard you the first several times you said it, but you can’t just--assume that about someone!” Eddie was well and good on a rant now, two seconds away from pacing about. “Even if you’ve been to a salon with them!”
He pointed firmly at Dustin’s stupid face (and the kid's equally stupid mouth) before he could once again insist Steve was into men purely based on how anal he was about his hair.
“Steve might be cool with--other people,” Eddie was unsure of who knew what about Robin, and was not about to hand Dustin another secret given how he was acting about this one, “but that does not mean he will be cool with me--or you, pimping him out, to me!”
“I’m not pimping him out!” Offended, Dustin patted at his shirt where Eddie had previously been holding it. “Look I’m sorry, but--”
Eddie groaned, loud and dramatic.
“But,” Dustin doubled down, “You trusted me with the whole, you know.” He waved his hands in some sort of vague, unreadable gesture. “Can’t you trust me about this?”
“I didn’t trust you with that, you barged into my room and then dug around my closet insisting your character notes got mixed in with mine when I was hi-sleeping!--and then read something personal!”
The snort he got in return let him know Dustin was well aware he’d been high as hell, but that was neither here nor there, given what had happened after.
When Dustin, rifling through Eddie’s closet, came across one of Eddie’s private notebooks.
The ones that contained equally private stories, penned by Eddie's hand.
One of which might have had characters--who did not sound like Steve, thank you,-- and definitely not paired with a character based on Eddie himself.
(“So Sir Sylvan Harrachtáin and Edwin Morningson are random names you pulled out of your ass, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Sir Sylvan with his great hair and--what’s this? A horse named…Beamer?”
“Henderson so help me--” )
It may have led to the two of them growing closer instead of Eddie getting chased out of town with pitchforks, but that hadn’t stopped the sheer panic it had caused when he realized just what it was Dustin was reading.
“Potato, tomato.” The little shit dismissed, and Eddie felt the urge to strangle him return in full force. “Look I get it--I promised I wouldn’t tell and I keep my promises. But since there aren’t any other rooms in our inn…”
Eddie looked at the sky, because if he saw the little dipshit wiggle his eyebrows in relation to himself and Steve Harrington, his new friend, who baked cookies with Jeff and once helped Grant jump his car, Eddie was going to lose his mind.
Loudly, and with much fanfare.
“You owe me. Big time.” He declared to the clouds.
He pretended not to hear the sigh that got him, either.
“If you so say. Now can we go to the convention?" A whine crept into Henderson's voice. "Steve’s going to think we’re fighting.”
"Fine.” Eddie finally lowered his head to glare Dustin dead in the eyes.
“But to make my ire clear, Henderson? That magic sword your dwarf just acquired is gone. Disappeared. Vanished like a puff of smoke."
He made a ‘proof’ noise, hands spreading out as he did it.
Dustin’s jaw dropped.
“What!? Eddie--”
“Nope.
“Edd-iieeeee--”
“I’m not listening.” He plunged both fingers in his ears, walking determinedly towards one of the other three hotel rooms Hellfire had crammed themselves in.
Wished desperately that he could manage to swap beds with Jeff, or Grant, or someone without making Steve feel like shit--which it would, because Eddie knew things like that about Steve now.
Behind him Dustin rampaged, which at least, made Eddie a little happier.
xXx
“We can switch rooms.”
“What?” Eddie asked, startled out of his present thoughts (and the giant pile of D&D related papers spread in a circle around him.)
He turned to look up at Steve, who was hovering awkwardly behind him.
“You’ve been weird ever since you realized we’re sharing a bed. If it’s making you that uncomfortable we can just switch.” He shrugged, like saying that didn’t hurt him, even as the kicked puppy look holding court on his face very much screamed ‘emotional damage.’
"I have not!” Eddie twisted himself around immediately. "I am perfectly fine, thank you!"
Steve frowned down at him.
“Eddie, this is the longest conversation I’ve had with you since we got here." Steve deadpanned. "I’d blame that on the whole, you know, nerd herd gathering, but it’s pretty clear that’s not it. I watched you literally turn around and walk the other way when you spotted me earlier."
Shit.
"It's kinda obvious you're avoiding me."
Shit, shit, shit!
“I'm not, promise!" Eddie lied. "I’m just--distracted. There’s just so much happening and it’s--a lot.”
He said it like the con was overwhelming, and not chaos he was positively thriving in.
Steve searched his face.
“Alright," He said doubtfully, "but I mean it. Say the word and we can switch. I'm sure Jeff'll let me share a blanket or something."
Which was the last thing anybody needed, on grounds that Jeff would try and fix things.
(Jeff, bless him, had never been good at fixing things.)
Drumming up every acting skill he possessed, Eddie flashed two thumbs up in response, painting a fat grin on his face.
“We're all good Stevie. Besides, I’m going to be up late at so many panels, you won’t even notice me coming back. You're practically gonna have the room to yourself!"
Because that was exactly what he was planning on doing, the second he realized the convention itself could provide a nice, neat little way out in the form of two different late night panels.
Who needed sleep anyway? Not him!
"Okay." Steve said, somewhat mollified.
Crisis averted, Eddie dove back into his plans, distracting himself as best he could while trying to ignore that Steve had dropped onto the bed.
(One of those plans might have involved revenge on Henderson, and that one he gave special attention to.)
xXx
There were no late nigh panels.
“Not until tomorrow, my friend!” The jovial guy dressed in what Eddie was pretty sure was supposed to be a wizard costume told him. “We had a few but the folks running them got stuck in traffic, so we had to cancel."
He beamed, like he hadn’t just disintegrated Eddie's one and only escape plan.
"Besides, if you go to sleep now you can catch some of the early morning panels!”
As if he hadn't planned on rolling into them anyway, lack of sleep be damned.
“Can we go back now?” Gareth grumped to his right, the only person who’d agreed to stay out all night with him (and who was not a 14 year old who’d been overruled by Harrington.)
"We could go find a room party?" Eddie hedged instead, as they made their retreat.
"Dude."
"Fine," He muttered, defeated. "We can go back."
To Steve.
And the single bed.
In his head, he plotted out Henderson's death.
Maybe he'd use fire.
Or sticks, or even a fricken--toy horse, or something...
xXx
He'd done it.
Changed into the oversized shirt he called sleep clothes, and crawled into bed like a completely normal, totally straight human being.
Had even done a remarkable job of laying perfectly still. Exactly how a normal, not panicking person slept!
'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'
Steve was laying next to him.
He had to of course, that's how a bed worked, and yet somehow, Eddie couldn't get past it.
Or the fact that the dick wasn't wearing a shirt to bed.
His thoughts chased each other in nervous little circles, anxiety gnawing on his gut like a favored bone as Eddie did his best not to move one single inch.
Pity that the thing about attending a large convention, was the sheer amount of walking, talking, and expending general energy one had to do.
Entirely against his will, Eddie fell asleep.
He had been planning on laying awake in frigid terror all night, to prevent any possible way Steve might clock him, but his body had other plans.
Some of which involved sleeping like Eddie normally slept--arms hugging a pillow, head buried in it's soft, comfortable, kinda ticklish surface.
He rubbed his nose further into it as the tickling sensation increased, pulling him away from the sleep he hadn't realized he'd fallen into.
Grumbling, Eddie went to adjust his stupid pillow when he had the weirdest realization that it too, was moving.
Pillows, his sleep addled brain informed him, did not move.
Steve would, though.
"Fuck!" He screeched, flying up into a sitting position as he registered that he'd gone full octopus--cuddling Steve with all four limbs.
Steve flew awake, his own body flying up into a sitting position.
His mouth started moving a mile a minute, and it took Eddie a second to parse that Steve was still partially asleep as he let out a string of absolute nonsense about code reds and being upside down.
"Whoa!" Eddie said when the guy nearly fell out of bed. "Shit Steve, it's just me!"
"Eddie?" Steve asked, halfway out of bed. "Are we--is everything okay?"
"Yeah I--yeah." He grimaced, grabbing a strand of his hair and pulling it protectively over his face. "I think I woke you up."
"S'okay." Steve ran a hand through his hair, before slowly sinking back into the bed, alarm fading. "Are you okay? Nightmare?"
Eddie blew out a breath.
"Probably. It's fine, don't worry about it."
Steve eyed him doubtfully.
"If you're sure..."
Eddie gave him a wobbly smile back, patting the space on the bed next to him as he made himself lay back down. "Promise. I'm--I'm sorry, I guess maybe I should have slept elsewhere..."
That did it.
"You're good. Startled me is all." Steve let out a sort of forced chuckle before laying back down. "I overreacted."
Eddie hummed, not trusting himself to say anything as the two of them settled back down.
It did not escape him that unlike most people who'd been rudely woken up in the middle of the night, Steve didn't try to keep any distance between them.
No, he had to scoot closer, like he needed to know his friend was near.
Eddie squeezed his eyes closed and prayed for death.
"I get nightmares too, sometimes." Steve admitted in the following quiet and oh, God, no, Eddie could not do an emotional late night talk right now.
"They definitely suck." He said flatly, before rolling over to face the opposing wall. "Night Stevie."
Steve snorted, but it sounded amused instead of hurt.
Eddie sighed quietly in relief as he too, turned away to face the wall.
He could do this. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up and fall asleep again, and everything would be...
Perfectly...
...fine.
xXx
"--ddie, you're on my arm man."
"Wha?"
"My arm." That was Steve, Eddie's brain dutifully identified as it crawled it's way to consciousness. Steve who was his friend now, and was also talking very close to his ear.
"Also my leg. And torso."
"You have a nice torso." Eddie mumbled thoughtlessly.
Why was Steve here? They were doing something that should have been stressing him out, was stressing him out, but it was hard to think when he was this tired.
"Thanks," Amusement threaded it's way through Steve's voice, "but I'm going numb here. You have a hell of a grip."
Eddie frowned, the words sludging through the fog, until finally, the dots connected.
Eyes opening wide, he carefully took stock of the position he once again found himself in--wrapped around Steve like the guy was the only life raft left.
Oh my God.
"Shit sorry--" Steve oof'ed as Eddie smacked an elbow into his ribs as he let the poor man go, madly scrambling to get as far away as possible.
He tried to apologize for that, but was too busy fighting the bedsheets to get anything out.
"Eds." Steve laughed, grabbing him as Eddie tangled them both up. "Calm down."
"I'm calm!" He protested, far too loudly, limbs flying every which way as he tried in vein to get the fuck away.
Stupid sheets-!
"Eddie." Two heavy hands came down on his shoulders, Steve having managed to get himself into a sitting position. "It's alright."
"It's not Steve." Eddie spat, and then panicked harder because fuck, that is not what he should have said.
"Hey, easy." Steve was talking quieter now, hands squeezing gently, like Eddie was some kind of spooked wild animal and fuck, he was really losing it here.
"I mean it. We're at the convention, remember? We're sharing a hotel room and you have a bunch of dorks and dumbass things to do in like, two hours."
Eddie violently shrugged him off.
"I know that!"
Steve, somehow, did not take offense to the very aggressive tone that had been snarled in.
"Then you know you can breath for a moment. Seriously, you look like you're gonna pass out."
Which was probably true, given the rapid, rabbiting beat of his heart.
"Is this what you were worried about?" Steve added, as Eddie finally freed himself from the damn sheets. "That you have nightmares?"
“It's not nightmares.” Eddie spat instantly, chest heaving.
His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he was exhausted to the point where he wanted to cry about it.
God did being gay suck.
“Then--what? That you cuddle in your sleep?” Steve was teasing, Eddie knew Steve was teasing but that was too on the nose. “Dude trust me, Tommy was an octopus growing up. I don’t care.”
“No it’s not, that, exactly--”
"So what is it then, exactly?"
Too. Fucking. Close.
"Drop it Steve--"
Emotions rose like a tidal wave, all encompassing. Overwhelming.
"I would if you weren't clearly upset about something--"
He lost control.
“I’m gay!” Eddie yelled.
Then he clapped a hand over his mouth, like he hadn’t just panicked himself out of the closet.
It died.
The crazy, huge emotions. The way he'd been fighting himself, tooth and nail, the panicked thoughts that were zooming around his brain.
“I didn’t say that.” He said, eyes wide.
Steve blinked.
“I mean, you kinda did.”
Eddie shook his head.
“Nope. No. I said, I said--”
“That you’re gay.” Steve finished, then frowned when Eddie flinched. “Dude it’s okay--”
“Is it, Steve!?” He interrupted, hand finally falling from his mouth. “Is it? Because if you ask half the people at this convention--who are my kind of people and understand I’m not shilling souls to satan--if it's okay!? They'd say no!"
Tears pressed against his eyes, a reaction he hated that he had.
"They'd say no, and then they'd try to kick my ass for sleeping in the same bed as them!"
A tear escaped and he swiped angrily at it.
“I’m okay with it.” Steve said quietly, which had the effect of making Eddie shut up. “And those people suck.”
The laugh that escaped Eddie's mouth was brittle.
Bitter.
He turned his head away from Steve, angry that he’d gone and admitted the very thing he knew better than ever speaking aloud.
“Yeah well, I didn't think you would be, given how you used to accuse anyone and everyone of being a queer loser right along with the rest of the basketball team.”
Which wasn't fair, exactly--Eddie knew Steve had changed. Had seen it in the way he and Robin talked quietly about Will, when they thought no one could overhear.
(A habit Eddie would break them of, if he and Steve made it out of here as friends, still.)
He wasn't Will though, and Will wasn't the one presently sharing a bed with Steve.
“That’s because we were all making out with each other at away games.” It was said so fucking quick Eddie briefly thought he hallucinated it.
Lucky for him, Steve wasn't done.
“Robin thinks that whole thing was some kind of group denial. Like if we made enough of a thing out of it we could all pretend we didn’t have our hands down each others pants all the time. I am not exactly on speaking terms with that group anymore.”
He shrugged like that his fall from grace hadn’t been the center of the rumor mill for most of his senior year, and came with a lot of shit talking at his expense.
“But I can still prove it to you, if you’d like.”
Shock--and six million thoughts-- hit Eddie like a mack truck.
‘You’re lying/No way/that makes so much fucking sense/how did that even start/was it every game/whose pants exactly did you have your hands down and how do you feel about my pants--’
“How?” Eddie got out, sounding only slightly strangled.
“Well--you’re here. I’m here."
And then Steve gave him a smile Eddie had only ever seen aimed at women, a slow lazy curl of the mouth that implied a hell of a lot.
"I'm fine with making the math work."
Maybe he was dreaming this.
(Eddie pinched himself and found that somehow, he was not.)
“I realize I don’t look like it, but I don't the whole casual kissing thing." Eddie blurted out. "Hasn't exactly gone well for me."
He regretted it the second it left his mouth.
That was sharing too much of himself. The vulnerable gooey part who'd kissed a few girls (and even, once, a guy) and found he couldn't for the life of him make such things casual.
Plus Steve was kind of a good friend now, and Eddie had a crush so big that doing this and then never doing it again would kill him, and--
(and, and, and…)
“It can mean something if you’d like.”
What.
“What?”
Eddie stared at him.
Steve stared back.
“Steve Harrington." He said flatly. "Are you trying to get in my pants?”
‘I will rip them off right here and now if you are,’ He thought wildly, like he hadn’t just tried to die on some “it has to be meaningful” hill.
(Sue him, he was a horny teenager who'd just learned sex might be on the table, he could change his mind.
It totally wouldn’t tear his heart apart after either!
Nope, not his, made of steel Eddie’s heart was--)
Steve raised his hands in the “don’t shoot” pose, looking all too pleased with himself.
“Hey, you can’t fault a guy for trying. But,” and here he dropped the flirty little grin, which Eddie was only now realizing he was utilizing, “I meant it. I'm not opposed to trying this out, with you."
Trying? What the hell did that mean!?
Steve hadn't stopped talking.
"I won’t take it anywhere if you don’t want to though, don't worry.
Then he tilted his head and added; “I can also leave if that made you uncomfortable. Robin keeps telling me I can’t flirt with men like I flirt with women and--”
“No.” Eddie’s mouth betrayed him yet again, terrified Steve might talk himself into leaving. “No--you offered!”
Steve raised an eyebrow.
“I did.”
“To have--” God Eddie couldn’t even say the words, “with me?”
Somehow that last part came out as a question, and Eddie planned immediately to throw himself out of a window.
The grin was coming back. “Yes. With you.”
“And it would…mean something?”
That was pushing it, Eddie knew that was pushing it, but it was like he couldn't stop himself.
This whole thing was now a runaway train and he'd ride it to it's inevitable wreck.
“For me it would.” Steve said, raising himself up on his knees.
He inched forward, planting his hands down on the bed, face awfully close to Eddie’s own.
“I don't like doing things anymore without it meaning something. To be honest, I don’t think I ever did. Besides, Robin's right."
"About?" Eddie asked, goin cross-eyed as Steve leaned ever so much closer.
"That when I say I admire you, or I miss you, or that I want to see you, I'm not exactly meaning it in a friend way."
Oh.
"Oh." Eddie said dumbly.
Steve closed the distance, mouth first.
They were kissing.
Stars exploded in the sky. Fireworks went off outside, birds sang, people cheered--
(Eddie bit Steve’s lip, twice, in some sort of overexcited maneuver before he was gently guided into Steve’s lap, the ex-jock twisting to lay back down and bringing Eddie with him.
It was smoothly done, a slow maneuver, and Eddie had to go and ruin that too by ripping his mouth off Steve’s to press sloppy kisses all down his neck.
Thankfully Steve did not shove him off for that, or the hickie he definitely left on that stupid, tan neck, instead arranging them once again until things, finally, started to be less frantic.
It was the best night of Eddie's life.)
xXx
“So what does mean something involve, in this little situation we have here?” Eddie said some odd amount of time later, cuddled happily against a now naked Harrington.
“I’m not supposed to say boyfriends.” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder. “Scares people off."
Apparently he was the type to need naps immediately after having the naked kind of fun.
“Who the fuck told you that?” Eddie reached down, lacing their hands together tightly.
Steve kissed his shoulder.
“We haven’t even gone on a proper date yet.” He said, rather than responding directly.
“We can’t, Steve, or did you forget where we live?”
Another kiss, this one turning into a grin when it made Eddie shudder.
“Oh we absolutely can. I’ll prove it to you. Next Friday?”
It took him a moment--a stupidly long moment, for someone who prided himself as a wordsmith--but Eddie got it.
A smile exploded over his face.
“Next Friday." He said. "It’s a date.”
(A very long time later, Henderson would find out about all this and gloat about this so hard he’d fall off the steps of Eddie’s trailer.
Eddie would only let him live on grounds that Steve was also there at the time, and was worried about Dustin’s ankle.
This did not stop Eddie from standing above the little shit, announcing karma would one day get him soon, and if not, than Max Mayfield, who absolutely could be bribed into committing murder.)
This was the bonus for Door Prize/Sugar, Spice (and Everything Dicey) which can be read in it's entirely here: LINK
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