#this is the longest thing ive ever written but im a sl00t for a modern au and finally decided to create my own

[steddio]

steddie vegas au part 7 (and epilogue)

part 1; part 2; part 3; part 4; part 5; part 6; ao3

(ok this is it, the last part! these two middle-aged sweethearts and their issues have occupied all my thoughts for the last few weeks, and I appreciate everyone who joined me on this journey. this part is a bit spicy; if you want to skip, it starts with “So get me wet, sugar.” you can come back at “They sit like that, foreheads touching.”)

--

The calm that settled over them as they took in the view together breaks when Steve finally glances at his watch. “Shit, I lost track of time. Don’t you have a show tonight? I should take you back.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head. “Always looking out for me, Steve-o. But no, I have the night off. Jeff is gone, visiting his mom.” 

Steve turns to face him, eyes hopeful. “Is there any chance I could take you… home? With me?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’d want that?” he can’t help but ask. Steve just leans in to kiss him again, letting his hands trail down Eddie’s arms. He breaks the kiss to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “baby, come home with me. Let me cook you dinner.” 

“Oh, now you’re cooking me dinner?” Eddie tries to play it cool, but it comes out a little broken. He can’t remember the last time someone cooked for him.

Steve just smiles, kisses him once more on the cheek, and takes his hand. The descent is way easier than the ascent, and Eddie feels so light he wants to run. Only his sobering awareness of his own clumsiness keeps him from doing so. That and Steve groaning about how his knees ache when he walks downhill, which means Eddie gets to tease him about being an old man. Their playful banter helps Eddie shrug off the last bit of anxiety; they’re both done running, done hiding.

Steve’s suburban apartment complex is just as brown as the rest of Vegas, but the inside is a riot of color. He must notice Eddie’s look of amazement, because he laughs. “Max and I painted it, and I let her pick out the color for every room,” he shrugs, as if that isn’t the most devastatingly sweet thing Eddie has ever heard. They go into the (bright orange) kitchen and Eddie settles himself at the counter while Steve pours them iced tea. Steve hands Eddie a glass then clinks his own against it. “To second chances,” he says solemnly, but his eyes are smiling.

“To second chances,” Eddie agrees, reaching out to cover Steve’s hand with his own. They sip on their drinks in companionable silence until Steve stretches and then disappears into the bedroom to take a shower, telling Eddie to “be as nosy as you want, sweetheart. No more secrets.” 

Never one to deny a chance to snoop, Eddie pokes around Steve’s (bright yellow) living room with its faded blue couch and well-loved leather armchairs. The bookshelf is full of photos of a little red-haired girl Eddie knows to be Steve’s daughter Max, and the art on the walls, although framed, was clearly drawn by a child. Meandering down the hall, Eddie finds another bedroom painted a soft lavender and covered in band posters. 

Despite its dull exterior, this apartment feels so much more like a home than any of the flashy, beautiful, expensive places Eddie has lived. And even if Steve lives alone it’s clear his family is never far from his heart. Eddie is hit suddenly with a wave of gratitude that Steve brought him here, that he trusted Eddie enough to let him in. 

He hears the shower turn off and makes his way toward Steve’s bedroom. The door is cracked slightly, so Eddie pushes it open, only to be met with the glorious sight of Steve wrapped in a towel, bare chest still dripping slightly with water. Steve smiles when he sees Eddie, so genuine that Eddie’s heart thrills in his chest and he can’t stop himself from approaching, drawn in by this gorgeous man. 

“Eddie, baby, I’ll get you all wet,” Steve laughs in protest as Eddie wraps him up in a hug. 

“So get me wet, sugar,” and Eddie didn’t mean to have that come out so sultry, but Steve’s eyes go dark and his breath catches. Eddie chases that inhale with a kiss, tender at first until it deepens into heavier want, and he’s backing Steve against the bed. He unwraps the towel and thrills at having Steve bare beneath him, looking up through dark eyelashes. Eddie starts to kneel, but Steve pulls him onto the bed so they’re laying side by side. 

They kiss slowly, letting their hands explore, taking their time, and Eddie is aching with want by the time Steve finally kneels above him, pulls his joggers down, and bends to lick a long stripe up his cock. Eddie jolts in surprise, halfheartedly protests that he’s still sweaty from their hike, but Steve just smiles and shakes his head. “I need to taste you, sweetheart,” he tells Eddie. “To make sure you’re really here.” And how can Eddie deny him that? 

Steve goes luxuriously slow, licking and mouthing for what feels like ages until he finally takes Eddie deeper, bobbing his head gently, curling his tongue around the entire length of Eddie’s cock. It’s so messy, and so good, Eddie just melts into the bed, into the wet warmth of Steve’s mouth, content to stay like that forever. Steve seems to feel the same, because he doesn’t stop, just lies between Eddie’s legs. 

Eventually Eddie realizes Steve is grinding against the mattress. “Look at you,” he groans. “So good for me, Stevie, keeping your hands where I can see them. You’re so–shit. You’re so good at this, sugar.” Steve just hums around him and keeps going, and like always, Eddie wants more. Except this time, he feels safe asking, knowing that Steve wants to give it to him.

“Stevie, baby, I want to ride you,” Eddie tells him. This gets Steve’s full attention. “Get me ready, sugar.” Steve groans deep in his chest and then reluctantly lets go of Eddie’s cock, gets up to grab lube and a condom from the bedside table. Eddie just watches him, content to wait and appreciate the vision before him. Steve, flushed, golden, hard cock jutting out proudly. He lets Steve finger him open just as slowly as he’d sucked him off, but the moment he feels ready, he takes the lead, flipping them over so he’s on top. He takes a moment to imprint the visual in his memory forever–dark hair covering lean muscle, plush lips spit-slick and swollen, brown eyes dark with lust and so trusting–before he lowers himself. And wow, Steve is huge, Jesus H Christ, but the stretch is so, so good, and Steve’s moan of “Eddie, baby, fuck” is even better. He gives himself a moment to adjust before he’s grinding down again, trying to find that sweet spot. Steve grabs his waist, both encouraging and taking some of Eddie’s weight. And normally Eddie would perform a little bit, show off for his partner, but Steve is already looking at him with such affection that he just… lets Steve look. At all of him, while he chases his pleasure. 

He feels himself approaching the edge and suddenly the distance between them is too far, and he bends down to kiss Steve, who meets him in the middle so that he’s sitting upright with Eddie on his lap. Eddie doesn’t want to break the kiss, just lets himself come untouched, spilling over Steve’s stomach. Steve moans in delighted surprise, let’s out a whispered “fuck, fuck, that’s so hot” before he’s grinding in even deeper, following Eddie in pleasure. 

They sit like that, foreheads touching, breathing in each other’s air, for a long moment. Eventually, they’ll extract themselves and muster the energy to shower. Eventually, Steve will cook Eddie dinner and they’ll sit at the kitchen counter, wholly domestic. But for now, Eddie is content to stay a little longer in the safety of Steve’s arms.

–

Steve is jolted awake by a pounding knock on his front door. Alarmed, he extracts himself from the tangle of Eddie’s limbs with a whispered “be right back, sweetheart” and tugs on a pair of sweatpants, grabbing the baseball bat he keeps next to the bed “just in case” (Max and Nancy had laughed at him, but you never know!). There’s another loud knock, and he has half a mind to chastise whoever it is for disturbing the neighbors even if they are some sort of intruder, but when he looks through the peephole and sees a disheveled Chrissy, he immediately swings open the door.

“Chrissy, what’s wrong?” he asks, only to be met with a loud and almost-enraged, “Steve!?”

Steve just lifts a hand in an awkward wave and quickly hides the bat in the umbrella stand. “Is Eddie here?” Chrissy pushes past him into the apartment. 

“Yes, he’s in the bedroom, asleep. What the hell is going on?” He’s starting to get annoyed now, and his bitchy side is coming out. 

Chrissy turns to face him, relieved and a little sheepish. “We have one rule, while we’re in Vegas, which is that Eddie has to sleep in the hotel room.” Steve is about to interrupt with one of the million questions racing through his mind, but Chrissy holds up a hand and continues. “I know, it’s infantilizing, but it was our agreement since his relapse. It’s just so I can keep an eye on him and be there for him if he needs. Didn’t you wonder why we shared a suite?”

Steve in fact had wondered this, but just chalked it up to another celebrity quirk. 

“He didn’t text me last night, and I knew he was seeing you and I wasn’t sure if–.”

“If it had gone well?” Steve supplies.

“Well, yeah, exactly. I tracked his location here. You’re sure he’s okay?” 

“Oh, I’m more than okay, Chrissy babe. Steve took good care of me, if you know what I mean.” Both Chrissy and Steve jump and turn to face Eddie, who had somehow snuck out of the bedroom and is standing in the hall, wrapped in the duvet. 

“Ew, gross,” Chrissy admonishes, before running toward him and grabbing him in a fierce hug. Steve gives them some privacy and goes to make coffee. When Chrissy and Eddie join him in the kitchen, they both look like they’ve been crying, but they’re smiling, and Eddie comes and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist. 

“So,” Chrissy starts. “You two, huh.”

Steve just looks down at Eddie, who is smiling into Steve’s chest. “As long as he’ll have me.”

--

Epilogue 

Eddie is probably wearing a hole in Steve’s living room carpet with how long he’s been pacing back and forth. Well, technically it’s his carpet too, seeing as he lives there, so he has every right to destroy it with nervous energy. He’d moved in about a month ago, with no hesitation after Steve had asked him (on Valentine’s Day, of course, the absolute sap). Steve had waffled, wondering whether Eddie might want a nicer place, something more fitting for his lifestyle and career, but Eddie had spent years chasing luxury and now he just wanted a home. And this vibrant apartment in the middle of the desert had become his, thanks to the dorky, delightful, and delicious man he lives with.

Except Eddie is about to face the final judgment on whether he can keep it. Them. Both the home and the man. Because Max is coming to visit for spring break, and Eddie cannot fuck this up; his forever happiness depends on a 15-year-old girl’s approval. No sweat.

Steve had gone to get her from the airport, where she’d flown in with Nancy (who would be spending a kid-free week at the hotel in what she jokingly told Eddie was her annual “mom tax”). Eddie had wanted to come, had been about to get in the car, but Steve had gently reminded him that he’s a world-famous rockstar and would probably attract too much attention at the airport. Which, fair, but now he’s here, alone, waiting and pacing. 

He hears keys jingle in the door and runs to sit down on the couch. Crosses his legs then uncrosses them. Tries to lean back casually. Is so caught up in the awkwardness of his own body that he doesn’t hear Max come into the room until she’s right in front of him.

“So you’re my dad’s new boyfriend.” She’s looking at him with absolutely no expression. Eddie tries to smile reassuringly and then he’s stumbling over his words.

“Yes, hi, Max, it’s great to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you from your dad, and your mom actually, and from Robin, and really everyone and…” he trails off. Max just stares. “Oh, I’m Eddie, by the way,” he sticks one hand out and then cringes, because do teenagers shake hands? 

Max just reaches out and pats his head. “I know.” And then she’s turning over her shoulder and shouting toward the kitchen, “Dad, I’m hungry, did you buy lucky charms?”

Eddie has a brief moment in which he lets himself believe he’s off the hook before Max is giving him a death glare that startles him so badly he nearly jumps back on the couch. “If you hurt him, I will kill you. And I could get away with it too. I know how to hide a body.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. Is he really getting a shovel talk from a 15-year-old girl? He recovers enough to say, “I won’t. I promise.”

Max assesses this answer briefly before she nods. “Cool.” And walks away.

“Okay, cool,” Eddie repeats under his breath. He stays there a long moment, slowing his heart rate, before getting up to join his family in the kitchen. Because damn, lucky charms really do sound good right now.

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read on ao3.

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