#my thought is wayne comes home from nightshift to find them still standing there naked and arguing 😂

[shares-a-vest]

@steddie-week Day 4: Trade | Body Swap | Wouldn't It Be Good by Nik Kershaw

wc: 1.4k | Rated: M for Steve and Eddie being naked this entire ficlet, Suggestive Language, Eddie simply relishing in waking up in Steve’s body hehe | cw: None

Tags: Body Swap, Humour, Idiot4Idiot, Crack, Eddie Munson is a Menace, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington (and everything about him, wink wonk), Masturbation

Some Freaky Friday Shit | Read on ao3

Steve blinks awake to a feeling of warmth pressed flush against the front of his bare body. He snuggles close, despite that warmth bordering on being a little too hot.

But his sleepy brain figures it’s just the Munson’s trailer, stuffy now that summer has peaked, even if every window in the place is opened. It might even be a lingering reminder of the heated night before, Steve thinks, humming as he recalls Eddie’s body moving in sync with his own, their skin growing tacky with sweat as they careened towards bliss.

Steve kisses Eddie’s shoulder and smiles against warmed skin, breathing in the scent of his own shampoo. He skims his hand up his boyfriend’s front to place his hand over Eddie’s heart when the tips of his fingers hit coarse hair.

… Wait.

Steve’s eyes snap open and he recoils, moving back far enough that he hits his head against the wall the bed backs onto. He yelps, reaching for the back of his noggin, this time feeling thin, frizzed, long hair brush against his fingers.

He thinks his eyes might bulge out of his – or Eddie’s, it seems – eye sockets as he stares down at the sleeping figure in Eddie’s bed and finds himself face-to-face with his own bare shoulder.

“Eddie!” Steve screams, launching himself over the figure to jump clean out of the single bed.

He coughs away and Eddie crumbles, distracted now as whispy, curling bangs blink into his eyes.

Steve shakes his head, the hair bouncing out of his field of vision enough to reveal the (now less sleepy) figure and yep – that’s himself he’s looking at.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he – the other person – screams with Eddie’s shrill tone.

Eddie-as-himself scrambles out of bed too –

And that’s when Steve realises they are both naked, their clothes from last night scattered about beneath their feet.

He pinches his nose – but not before one of Eddie’s cumbersome rings scratches him on the cheek.

“Shit,” he mutters, wincing at the sting of it.

Steve balls up his – Eddie’s – fists, clenching too hard as he overestimates the size of his hands. He looks over at himself, panicked by the sound of Eddie’s mischievous giggling and sure enough, his kinda-double is swaying from side to side, looking down at his, well…

Goddamnit! Why did they decide to take full advantage of Wayne being on night shift last night?

Eddie tsks between giggles.

“This thing is heavy, ain’t it?”

At least with some clothes on, Eddie might not have gotten to this scene so goddamn fast!

He continues waving from side to side, thoroughly inspecting himself-Steve’s-self. Eddie then cups his balls one at a time, before smoothing his hands over his inner thighs, humming as he visibly shudders, relishing in Steve’s own hairy upper thighs. Steve grimaces at the moment he knows Eddie’s pea-brain clicks and remembers the thick thatch of hair on his chest. His double-slash-boyfriend reaches up and runs his fingers through it.

Eddie closes his eyes, all blissed out as he fondles his not-self.

Steve screws his eyes shut, both offended and queasy over the very-real-and-completely-weird situation before him. A conundrum Eddie doesn’t seem to care about all that much beyond groping himself.

“Eddie,” Steve whines, “What are we gonna do?”

“Idunnoknow,” Eddie oh-so-helpfully offers, “Some Freaky Friday shit?”

His eyes snap open.

“Some Freaking Friday shit?” Steve exclaims, “Eddie, we need to figure this out!”

“No, we don’t,” Eddie argues. He makes a face, as if like such a suggestion is the dumbest thing Steve could possibly say, “I mean, at least… Not… right now…”

He drifts off absentmindedly, looking over at the bedroom door. Steve recoils at the wicked flash that soon crosses his own face, an unsettling mix of his own features somehow capturing the very essence of Eddie.

Eddie, who now takes a suspicious step towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Steve shrieks, both sceptical of what has now turned into a cheeky bottom lip bite and also terrified of being left alone like this.

He reaches for Eddie, but a large hand waves him away.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Eddie says, avoiding Steve’s (his own) eye and pouts, “Have I ever told you that you have horrendous morning breath?”

He shudders and opens the door, continuing on to the bathroom, where Steve gets an eyeful of his own bare ass jiggling with each step as Eddie-as-himself walks in and closes the door without another word. Steve can’t help but smirk at the sight – confirmation that he does indeed, have a fantastic ass.

But his (slightly bizarre, given the context) self-absorption dissipates when Steve hears the lock on the bathroom door click with all the clarity in the world.

Oh, no!

Steve stumbles forward, off-kilter like he’s a baby deer finding its footing. He stops and stands upright, steadying his hand on the corner of Eddie’s desk as he gathers himself.

He attempts to tread lightly in this new (hopefully temporary) body. His torso feels solid and Steve knows that Eddie possesses a deceptive level of core strength. But his legs feel far too light and are in fact, as gangly as they look.

Worst of all, however, is how cold Steve feels now that his initial panic and the warmth of Eddie’s – no, his own – body has subsided. Even with a head of long hair that Steve remembers made them both all hot and sweaty last night, inhabiting Eddie’s typical body temperature makes him shiver.

By the time he shuffles to the bathroom (a distance that is usually a mere three paces), Steve is distracted by the jangling of Eddie’s necklace – a new guitar pic alongside a series of charms the kids made with Robin back when he was in the hospital. Steve reaches to clasp his hand over it, but a ring snags a rogue strand of hair this time and he tugs before he can stop himself.

He yelps and shakes his head – only to send wild tendrils of long, dark hair every which way.

Steve spits like a cat on the attack, blinded with hair in his eyes and in his mouth and catching on his lashes –

Seriously, how does Eddie live like this?

“F-fuck,” he coughs, swatting at his face, “Eddie?”

“Eh – umphf. Oh, uh...” Eddie hums in reply before spluttering, “Jesus C-Christ, sweetheart! I know I always say it, but your hands are so b-big.”

There’s a choked-off garbled noise – a sound that sends Steve’s heart racing. He yanks at the doorknob and violently shakes it.

“Eddie!” he shrieks, “Get your hands off-a me!”

“Can’t – eh – ohhh…” Eddie moans before stage-whisper-whining, “That v-vein! … Sure is sensitive.”

“Shut the fuck up and open the door.”

Eddie clears his throat.

“Just a second!” he chimes, his voice echoing behind the door.

There’s a series of fumbling noises and little eh-sounds, all of which seem ridiculous to Steve considering Eddie is already undressed. He grumbles at a brief sound of the faucet and it all sounds like Eddie is feigning brushing his teeth. Steve isn’t sure if he should start worrying about how things like toothbrushes and underwear will work in their current predicament –

And he doesn’t have time to gripe about it either as Eddie opens the door.

Steve yelps at the sight of himself and Eddie-as-himself pouts, his lips downturning at the corners as his brows knit together and he sighs.

“And here I was thinking I was such a phenomenal lover. That it was my expertise working you up so quick,” Eddie laments, shoulders sagging, “Turns out you can get a hard-on with any touch below the belt – oh, and did I mention your balls are kind of itchy? It must be the weather...”

He tilts his head to the side, lost in his own thoughts.

But Steve looks down and gasps.

Eddie has worked himself (himself?) up to a decent semi already and Steve feels his stomach lurch at the warmth and definitely-primal-and-totally-uncontrollable little quickening of his heart. A sensation that heads south at a rapid pace.

He gulps and looks back up to find Eddie biting his bottom lip, reaching up to twirl the longest length of Steve’s own bed hair between his fingers.

Steve frowns, “Stop talking about my balls.”

Eddie wiggles his brows now in a way Steve knows he could never recreate himself – and it’s spooky, really.

“But they’re mine now,” Eddie grins, his – Steve’s – previously non-existent dimples dotting his cheeks with devilsh glee. It makes Steve want to scream as Eddie reaches for his (own) hand, “Come on, precious. Let’s have fun. I wanna take this baby for a spin.”

“My body isn’t a car!”

“But Stevie!”

“Eddie!”