Work Text:
••• How do you tell a man,
That you desperately,
Desperately,
Wanted to be inside him?
Sexually, physically, emotionally. Hide inside his ribs, squish between his lungs, count his breaths per hour and match the math with his own. Steve has never been good at math but he'll be good for this boy, with dark curls, dark eyes, dark liner.
He'll be good for him.
Eddies not homophobic. Steves not homophobic and Waynes not homophobic and the Party isn't homophobic and nobody is homophobic but still Steve has the fear that even mentioning the attraction that burrows under his skin and rots his muscles to anyone except himself. He trembles with it.
He likes his tattoos (wants to lick the ink off his skin), likes his pretty, chocolate brown hair (wants to take a handful of it and pull), likes his pouty mouth (wants to kiss it til its as red as the butt of his Marlboro cigarettes), likes the stupid way he'll sway his hips at someone when he knows they'll cave to his wants; like a black cat swishing up to someone in a witches costume on Halloween. Smugly.
He imagines he tastes like cigarettes and coconut, because thats the flavour of the chapstick he uses. Covered in girly print. Because he definitely got it out of the women's hygiene isle. He smells it on his breath when Eddie leans over his shoulder to see what hes doing; places a warm palm between his scapulars and the other on the table. Silver rings on display. He wants to kiss the flavour from his lips like there is no tomorrow. Hes searched everywhere for that fucking chapstick.
Cant find it.
One more thing from Eddie Munson,
That is absolutely unattainable.
}}}---->
"Eddie, you can't keep stealing my underwear. I need that. Stop being a whore for one second."
"You could always wear my boxers, babe." Eddie scrolls through his phone like Robin is merely breaking down the weather to him.
She scoffs, frowning at him in a way that isnt exactly pouty, but gets really close. "Youre a size bigger than me. Ive tried." Eddies lip curls at the corner.
Steve thinks he might cum just from the imagery of him in Robins panties. Not that Robins panties part. Thats fucking disgusting. More of the, Eddie-Munson-in-girls-underwear. Yeah, thats the shit.
"Try harder." Eddie leans over the island, sliding forward to his hips make sound contact with the marble.
It puts him in a.. truly attractive view. Back arched, with a sliver of it showing. Pale against the excuse of a black shit he wears. Its absolutely ripped to shreds. The sleeves are mesh and mesh is the only thing giving him the decency of not flashing everyone his fucking nipples. (Steve knows the colour of them anyway.)
(Pink.)
He notices that his back looks a little inflamed where it goes under his pants(if you'll call the hole filled, dark denim pants). Red, right in the center. He wants to ask about it.
Decides against it.
Looks away to see Robin staring at him with her brow raised. He does not blush. She does not scrunch her nose at him. Mouth "Later." He does not find the sudden urge to jump off a bridge tempting.
"Buy your own undies, dude." Robin sighs, dismayed. Steve takes a long sip (read: chugs) of his coffee. The aftertaste makes him regret it.
"With what money? You know Im poor, stop being capitalist." Robin rolls her eyes as Eddie sticks out his tongue at her. Reveals the black bar of a tongue piercing.
Motherfucker. "Use Steves card. Hes got money." She refutes. "My parents have money." Steve corrects without missing a beat.
Eddie snorts. Robin rolls her eyes again.
"Rich people." They say in unison. He blinks at them. "There is no fucking way you didnt plan that." He says. But from Eddies dismissive hum, he knows that theyre moving on. He doesnt sulk. Absolutely not.
"Okay, Steve parents have money. Use Steves parents money to buy yourself undies so I can stop wasting Steves stupidly fancy laundry detergent."
Steve blinks.
"I thought it was going down faster-" He furrows a brow but she just waves him off. Hes getting a little sick of the amount of dismissals being thrown in his direction.
"What if I dont wanna go to a store right now?" Eddie challenges. Robin raises a brow. "Youre gonna make Steve go buy undies alone? Hes going to look like a pervert." Robin crosses her arms over her chest.
Eddie is smiling a little. "Please just say panties." He snickers.
"Literally! You know how long Ive been trying to get her to say panties? Its just like the boobies thing!" Steve points at her and she squints.
"Stop saying boobies." She grabs a marshmallow from fuck-knows-where at throws it. It plips right onto his forehead. He scowls, playfully, as Eddie laughs.
"Youre only proving my point." He says to her. Then, he turns to Eddie. "Ive known her since I was 19, and she still doesnt say panties." He shakes his head like its a great tragedy. Eddie tuts.
"A shame. I think panties is a nice word." He hums.
"Stop saying panties! Thats it, fuck you both, Im locking my underwear drawer." Robin tucks her hair behind her ear and flips them both off. Walks a little. Trips. Stops walking with red ears. Steve (poorly) hides his snicker with a cough.
Eddie groans, thunking his head down on the island. His curls fall over his shoulders very nicely. Like, trending on Pinterest, kind of nice.
"Roooooooooob, please!" He begs, as one last attempt. Steve imagines that his breath is fogging up the marble. Crosses his legs over each other at the imagery.
Robin mouths, "Heathen" at him and he flips her off. She goes in with "Weirdo" next, and Eddie lifts his head up before Steve can reply.
He looks up at Robin with the most pouty, amazing looking eyes. Fuck me eyes, he thinks to himself. He'd definitely fuck that. Better yet, it might just be better the other way around at this point. Holy shit is this man attractive. "Please?" He sounds all wrung out and kind of sad.
Robin looks vaguely disgusted.
"I am a lesbian. Your long hair does not affect that. Stop making that face at me or I might throw up." Steve cant help but laugh as Eddie melts, groaning all the way down onto the floor, where he complains in loud dramatics that has Robin biting her lip not to laugh and Steve fighting to keep from pissing himself.
They end up in Walmart.
"Im not sure why I have to be here." Steve huffs. Eddie sighs, very deeply, clearly tired of Steves antics already.
"Ive seen you stare at like, four different things in here already. Shut the hell up." Steve flushes, ashamed he was caught. Turns his head away as Eddie picks through underwear sets, murmuring to himself.
He doesnt keep his eyes away for long.
Hes kneeled on one knee, sorting through packages like its types of beef jerky. Steve roves his eyes over the little red patch on his back. Hes not quite sure if the black he sees is dye from his jeans on ink from a tattoo. God, he hopes its a tattoo. He loves Eddies tattoos. Eddie flicks his hair over one shoulder, huffing in irritation.
"Steve, you wanna call Rob for me?" He asks without turning around. He drags his eyes up from his back and instead stares at the back of his head.
"Uhm. Why?" He asks right back. Eddie leans his head back, presses a palm to the floor to support himself. Steve isnt quite sure if he should be mad or glad he doesnt have the front view of this position.
"'Cause I have no idea what cut she gets for her panties or what the hell the difference is between 'briefs' and 'boyshorts'. They look the same." He complains. Steve rolls his eyes. "They do not. She gets briefs. Boyshorts are like boxers but made in a feminine cut. And shorter." He informs. Eddie stares at him for a beat.
"Am I allowed to ask how you know that, or will it lead into a highschool-era-lowkey-trauma-dump? Because, lemme tell you, I did not sign up for that."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"Ive helped Robin shop before." He tries not to let the memory sour his tongue.
The one of them both crying in the parking lot of a walmart, knowing full well Robin wont be going home anymore. That the clothes on her back is all she has, that she needs a new charger, that she has got to set up an appointment for her meds.
It sours his tongue anyways.
Eddie simply nods, turns back and grabs two packages. He stands, throws them in the cart. It rests right beside laundry detergent, a pack of headphones, a bag of cat food (for Dustin) and already bagged things that Eddie got from the medical section. (Steve pretends to not know that its sex toys, condoms, and lipstick.)
(He's not quite sure if he's succeeding.)
Eddie hums at their basket, then looks up.
"Need anything else?" He asks him. Surely to just be polite. Hes already started doing the thing when hes about to get overstimulated where he'll absently tongue the ridges of his lips when hes not talking. Steve shrugs.
"Nothin' from here. Lets get out of here. A white woman has been staring at us for like, ten minutes now. Im not sure if she thinks we're stealing, perverts, or stealing perverts, but either way, we oughta leave." Eddie laughs, nodding. They check out, they leave.
Its Steves car yet hes stuck as passenger princess.
The stuff from Walmart are in the backseat, and Eddie drives likes hes seven feet tall, with the seat damn near all the way back.
Manspreading,
one hand on the wheel,
the other running over his lips absently, pushing around that stupid coconut chapstick all around his mouth. Its shiny on his finger.
Steve looks away before hes caught staring.
Eddies phone is connected to the aux (Steve hates having his 'driver-does-the-music rule put against him) and it plays something hes certainly heard before, but isnt quite sure what the name is. Its good. Words trailing off and on, like water, guitar strumming, good percussion. Steve spent exactly one year in band class but he knows good music when he hears it. The song fades out and one comes in, a heavy riff that immediately makes him want to eat the song. He trails his eyes to the dashboard.
It doesnt say a damn thing.
He looks over at Eddie.
"What song is this?" He asks, and Eddie glances over. Moves his hand to fiddle with his dangly red earrings instead.
"My Own Summer Parentheses Shove It Parentheses. By Deftones." He says, and Steve traces the movement of his fingers with keen eyes. "Why, ya' like it, Harrington?" Eddie does that stupid grin he only gets when hes about to be dramatic. Steve bites his lip and looks away to keep from smiling.
"No, actually, Im calling the lead singer and telling him his song sucks." He drawls sarcastically, watching as they slip into a back road. He loves riding back roads, seeing the trees melt together and speeding. He speeds like hell on the back roads. Wishes he was driving so that instead of Eddies 66 mph, theyd hit 90. Maybe even 100.
Hes done it before.
It was exhilarating.
"I will kick your ass if you say anything like that about a Deftones song ever again." Steve giggles. Places his fingers by his mouth and plays with the skin, fingertips brushing his lips.
"I thought you werent really for this kind of stuff? Last I checked, you were all Classic Metal." He sucks on his fingertips once he finishes speaking, waits for Eddie to open his mouth next.
"Well this is rock, first of all. And I never said I didnt like other kinds of metal- I just prefer Classic. Runs smoother. Nowadays these assholes dont even know what the hell theyre talkin' about, much less how to right a good song. Lotsa' compositions are just shit." Steve rolls his eyes, but its nothing if not fond. Moves his fingers from his mouth.
"Dont infodump and drive at the same time. Youll lose focus and I actually like this car." He teases, looking back at Eddie to see him huff.
"Youre being ableist." He grumbles. He moves his leg like hes going to hike it into the seat, before realizing he needs that to drive. Eddie groans, scowling. "Motherfucking- Maybe you should drive." He says, and pulls his hair over one shoulder. He glances at Steve for a beat before going back to the road. Starts going 75.
"I mean, it is my car." He hums, even though he kind of likes Eddie in his driver seat. He's pleased to hear Eddie make a noise of distaste.
"Well yeah, but I look better driving it, so." He shrugs. "Stay on your throne, princess. Arent you happy to not have to lift a finger in my passenger seat?" Eddie taunts. His voice is all mean and drawn out, lip curled around his words, and Steve feels heat rush to his cheeks and tries very hard not to squeal.
"Uhm." He says, eloquently. Eddie laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve refrains from stimming to get rid of the boiling energy suddenly inside him. He licks his teeth and flicks his eyes over the car.
Eddie looks over again. Third time in the twenty minutes theyve been on this backroad. Steve knows it takes only ten to get home, is fully aware Eddie has just been driving for awhile now. Revels in it. He laughs again. At him, it feels, slightly tilting his head back and letting his eyes, briefly, flutter shut. Starts going 80.
"Youre a real piece of work, Stevie." He murmurs, low and hushed like its a secret, like they arent the only people in the car, only things in the car aside from groceries. Womens panties and cherry red lipstick.
"I havent done anythin'." He says, is ashamed to hear how breathy his tone is, how small he feels in the passenger seat, all of a sudden. He thinks Eddie senses it. His jaw works for a second.
"No, you've done plenty of staring, thats what youve done." He acknowledges, tone conveying the nonchalance he has towards that fact. Steve feels his cheeks burn hotter, heart skip a beat. Embarrassment runs like magma in his veins. He squirms.
"Did I make you uncomfortable?" He whispers, truly whispers, eyes wide and searching as Eddie hits 95 in one press. Thrill is starting to push against his lungs. He doesnt think he'll ever experience a car ride better than this one.
"You say 'did' like its something youve done in past tense." Eddie muses. "And youre doing it right now." Steve thinks the warmth of his cheeks might rival the sun.
"No, you know I like being looked at." He says, finally replying to the question. Steve breathes out. " 'Kay." He nods, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He swallows.
Fuck.
"You wont mind if I keep lookin' then, right?" He asks, just to be sure. Digs his fingers into the tough fabric of his jeans even though the tension of his hyper-mobile fingertips against it makes them ache. He opens his eyes when Eddie hits 100.
Eddie has his tongue in his cheek. He thumbs the stitching on the gear shift, shuffles in his seat. His Adams apple bobs. Steve wants to look down, see if hes having any reaction on him like how he always does himself, but doesnt. Refrains. Shows the discipline beaten into him as a child.
Eddies lips move, but he doesnt actually speak. Like a silent, prayer, almost, but one word.
"I wont. You can... you can keep looking." Steve feels giddy. Wants to kiss the man in the drivers seat. He truly feels the 'princess' part of 'passenger princess'.
He smiles, wide. "Good."
And thats that.
}}}---->
"Youre a creep dude, ew." Robin shudders, after catching him stare at Eddies wet form after showering.
Hes shirtless, only wearing a pair of grey sweats. He wants to look down. Figures that a little too sexualizing. He talks animatedly on the phone outside on the back porch, smiling softly and nodding along. His hair is in a messy bun that drips water down onto his back. Cute.
"Its not creepy if he gave me permission." He replies back, tearing his eyes away to go dump the rest of his tea down the sink. Its gone cold. Not that it was any good hot, but. You know. Semantics.
"Gave you permission- What the hell?" Shes incredulous. Staring at him like hes insane. Steve looks back, feels like the cat who got the canary when Eddie turns, showing off the tramp stamp he recently gotten. The inflamed skin on his back? Yeah. That fucking tattoo. Its of bat design, and its elegant. Beautiful, even. Lines trail out from under the bat, like ivy vines across a home. Two curl under, forming a petite heart.
Steve sighs.
He really wants to feel the texture of it.
"Im not explaining, before you ask. Im taking that conversation with me to the grave. As a treat." He licks his lips. Still tastes that herbal tea on it. Wonders if he'd taste Eddies coffee and cigarettes on his. Really wants to find out.
"As a treat?!" She whisper shouts, like Eddie can hear their conversation. The one hes having on the phone has calmed, it seems. He doesnt gesture with his hands. Nods a little. Steve feels the vibration of his voice occasionally.
"Yep." He pops the 'p'. "As a treat." He turns toward her, where she stands with wide eyes. Despite her horrified act, her eyes glimmer with excitement.
"Youre gross. Eddie? Eddie Munson?? Holy shit, are you guys gonna get together? Because if so, you know Dustin is gonna like, make so much fun out of you, right? Like, tremendous amounts of fun. And like, will probably gag behind your backs for ages." Shes tapping her fingers together as she speaks. Steve smiles.
"I dont know. I have no idea if hes attracted to me or not." He has a little idea. The imagery of his lips moving around one, silent word, loops in his head like a horse on a merry-go-round.
"Also I have Mom privileges so Ill just like, ground him, or some shit. I dunno. Steal all his baseball caps." He shrugs, and Robin snickers at the thought. "Evil." She scrunches her nose at him. He sticks his tongue out at her. They giggle at each other.
"Idiot." He says to her. "Weirdo." She says right back. Theyre smiling. It feels good, to be happy in her presence.
Her smile softens in intensity. Steve can feel the deep talk coming in like a storm.
"Be... be careful, though." She says, cautious. Steve looks at her. She drops her eyes to pick at her nail polish.
"I don't want my platonic soulmate getting hurt, you know." He licks the backs of his teeth. Looks back out the window. Eddies turned back facing the door, looking bored and displeased about the phone call. He drags his attention away from it, though, before Robin gets upset. He wants to scream at her for even implying Eddie would hurt him.
"I can hold my own against him." He wont hurt me, goes unsaid. It rings in the air. Robin looks like she wants to say more but doesnt, offers up a weak smile.
Eddie slides the door open.
}}}---->
Steve is aware of Eddies mental issues.
Very much so, actually. Painfully aware of the heavy diagnostic of Borderline Personality Disorder that clings to Eddies hair like lint, sometimes turns his tongue sharp and his smile sour. Hes fully aware that Eddie could split on him. Could throw him away like hes trash, spit on his cheek and call him names, shove him into furniture and scream till hes gone hoarse.
Hes fully aware.
It doesnt matter much to him.
Steve finds Eddie curled up in the corner of his room, cheeks red, eyes red, white shorts bleeding red.
Immediately, he drops what he came in for. Places the lipstick he had found in his room on Eddies dresser, walks over. He notes how Eddie is still in the clothes from the rave he went to, arms decorated in kandi and fishnets half pulled down his legs. Belt undone. Eddie tries to hide, curls in a sluggish movement, but Steve pulls him open again and into his lap, embraces him.
Eddie fights against it, weakly, hiccuping and still so red. Presses balled up fists (fingers curled under his palm loosely) to his shoulder and gasps out a shuddery breath. Tries to go back just for Steves hands to press him back into himself; press them back together. Eddie sobs, head tilted down. Hes wearing a black, noodle strap t-shirt. One of the straps fall over his shoulder. His curls leave his ponytail in wisps, framing his cheeks and trailing down his neck. Steve wonders, faintly, where the fuck he even cuts at, because he never sees the scars, despite being aware that he does. He wonders how someone could be such a pretty crier, too.
"Ive got you." He coos, petting his hair as Eddie whimpers in his lap. The older shakes his head, breath hitching and wavering. Steve presses down lightly on his back, taking care to avoid the new tattoo, leading him closer. Their torsos become flush.
"Stop," Eddie breathes, begs, voice ruined and wet. His nails dig into his shoulders, and Steve bites back a hiss. Doesnt tell him to let go, that it hurts, anything of that manner. "Please." He whines, trying to squirm away. Steve furrows his brow.
"Are you high?" He whispers to him, tilting his head up to speak into Eddies ear. The boy in his lap sobs, trembles. He shakes his head, slouching over in an arc thatd make a bow jealous. He makes a sound like a wounded animal, squeezes his knees to Steves sides. It hurts but he knows Eddie is hurting even more, and lets it be. "I didnt want it." He mumbles, and oh-
Oh.
"Oh, baby." He breathes out, his eyes beginning to sting as Eddies sobs pick up in fervor, ripping out of his chest and heaving his body with the movement. His exhales (when he can get them out,) sound like whimpers, and his nails are certainly drawing blood from where theyve climbed under his tee. He feels it dripping down his arms.
"Im so sorry, I shouldve came with you." He swallows, thickly. And the worst part about it is how he wanted to. Wanted to throw on some of Eddies clothes, make a couple bracelets, drink and listen to nausea inducing music for hours. But he didnt, because he saw Eddies outfit, popped a boner like a teenager, and missed the time pocket to go. Like an idiot.
"You didnt know." Eddie whispers. Steve wants to cage him between his ribs and never let him out. Cover him in mucus and eat him, so he'll never dissolve. Hide him in his stomach.
Steve presses his lips to his forehead, holds his breath. Its not a kiss or a peck, just a reminder to chill the fuck out. Pulls his head away and continues on. "Do you need a hospital?" He asks and pretends not to hear his voice tremble. Eddie shakes his head. "She didnt go too far."
She.
Steve inhales.
"Okay." He says, instead of the screaming curses he wants to say. Eddie sniffles.
"Youre not mad at me?" He whispers, fearfully, and Steve has never wanted to hurt someone so bad.
"No, sweetheart, I could never be mad at you. Im glad you made it home safe." He wants to kiss his forehead but he doesnt know how he feels about being kissed, and painfully refrains.
He thinks about how far back this might just set Eddie. Thinks about how long it took to have him turn his back on a girl when he first came to their house, hair brushing his shoulders and mumbling incoherent nonsense about being a clean roommate. Thinks about how that was the first time he got assaulted by a girl. Hopes this is the last.
"I didnt mean to let her in so close. But she offered me a drink- my favorite. With the.. the cherries in it. She- she roofied me." Demolished, rough, as tears continued to pour down his face. The faint smudges of eyeliner still left on his face are slowly leaking off as he hiccups in Steves lap. "She didnt even take me to a bathroom, Steve. Let me drink it at the bar and took me out just to- to defile me in front of everyone!" He gasps, trembling. He sobs brokenly, avoids Steves eyes.
"And nobody helped me and I couldnt get her off me and it felt good, Steve. She made me feel good and she took my favourite fucking thong. She made it dirty." His voice crawls into a growl, as anger makes itself present. Eddie removes his hands from Steves shoulders, clenches them into fists and brings it down on the carpet. He sobs, gasping at the pain and visibly gritting his teeth as an animalistic noise of hurt comes from his throat.
Steve gently places his palms under where hes hitting the floor, then traces his hands up to his wrists and carefully gripping them to stillness. Eddie snarls at him, slides his legs off Steves lap. The warmth leaves him smoothly and he wishes that it stayed.
"Dont hurt yourself. Breathe." He drags his eyes all across Eddies face as his hands tremor in around Eddies wrists. He doesnt know how to handle this, he realizes. Hes never been too emotionally adept.
"I wish I could fucking kill her." Eddie spits. Steve rubs circles into his skin. Pretends that all movement doesnt crack the dried blood on his shoulders. The older sniff harshly. "I want to. I want to so bad. How could she do that to me?" His voice sounds so pained and full of emotion that Steve finds himself on the verge of tears himself.
"Eddie," Steve murmurs, but he doesnt stop. "She made it seem like it was all apart of the plan too." He scoffs, "Talking bullshit about fucking- exhibitionism. I cant believe her! That fucking-fucking-!" He yells a wordless noise of pain and frustration, and sobs right after. His cries turn back into wails, and Steve wonders if theyre right back where they started.
Steve doesnt think he could word how he feels even if he tried his absolute hardest.
He doesnt even think there is a word.
"Im so sorry." He says again, because he doesnt know what else to say. "You didnt deserve that." He breathes, considers his words. "I hope she dies too. For doing that to you. She's disgusting." He lowers his voice to a whisper. Eddie hiccups.
"She made me all dirty. I just got clean again." All hurt and wet. Steve blinks rapidly to clear tears from his eyes. Shakes his head. "No, youve always been clean. She was the dirty one." He murmurs to him. Eddie doesn't reply, just continues on crying like theres no tomorrow. His chest aches.
"Eddie, baby, Im going to ask you something. Very politely. And Im going to need you to respond." The older shudders a breath, fingers twitching. Steve watches and tries to keep his tears from falling down his cheeks. Eddie nods, slowly.
"Okay. Im going to need you to tell me if you think is might set you back. Because youve gotten really far in your recovery, and I am so fucking proud of you, and I hope that it doesnt. But its okay if it does, angel, and do you wanna know why?" Eddie nods again, crying much softer than before.
"Because I believe that you will always, always, make it back. Come back higher, even. Break your goals with a spiked mallet, if youd like. Youre amazing, baby, and you like to downplay it too often." He murmurs, all low and soft. Eddie sobs, once.
"I dunno if I can do this again." He says back, words falling and crashing into each other with how fast he spits it.
Steves heart drops. "I think you can." He tries to assure but Eddie shakes his head no. Hiccups again.
"No, nonono no. Because what- Okay, say I get-get better again? Clean. And- and then what if it happens again, Steve? I cant do it a third time. I cant do it a second. It hurts." Steves lungs rattle with how deeply he breathes in, attempting to not start sobbing himself. "It wont happen a third time. Im here." He whispers to him, eyes wide and likely glassy. Eddies brows furrow, expression souring. Steve prays that he isnt doing what he thinks hes doing.
"You were here and it happened a second time, Steve. Why the fuck should I believe you? Youre.. youre the reason why I got hurt! Why Im dirty!" He thrashes, the roofie clearly worn off, and in his shock Steve lets him go. Immediately Eddies at least three feet away, knees to his chest and glaring at him through his bangs.
"Im not the reason." He breathes out. The words felt like a slap to his cheek. The anguish from hearing that sears his skin like hes being branded.
"You dont mean that. Dont- dont say that to me, Eddie." He sniffles, curling his fingers to his chest and pressing his back to the wall. Like a wounded animal hiding from a predator. Eddies eyes flash.
"Dont fucking tell me what to do!" He shrieks, his nails digging into his knees and drawing blood. His cheeks are red in anger, shoulders trembling, eyes filled with so much heat thats so familiar that- That-
Tears spill over.
Steve sobs softly, ducking his head and biting his lip as wetness trails down his cheeks.
His mind is in full and sudden overload, crashing over each other like ocean waves before a storm. Pushing and pulling and drowning. Eddie might still be talking, yelling, crying, and Steve wouldnt know because of how loud his hurt is in his own ears.
It feels like hes back in his childhood home in Virginia, body sticky with old sweat and summer and his own urine, curled onto the floor after his dad had gotten a little too mad and his mother had been a little too far. Welts all on his arms, back, and legs. The slap of leather against skin sounds a lot like the crash of the ocean waves inside his head. He remembers hating that house in Virginia. The cicadas and the hopping spiders and the shitty schools-
Steve flinches at the sound of Eddie knees knocking against the floor.
He leans forward now, closer to Steves crying face. Tears drying up in tacky, greyish lines on his own cheeks. Clumpy lashes and spotted cheeks. He doesn't say anything. Clearly down from his splitting. Steve keeps his cries as quiet as possible, tearing his lip open in his attempt. It pours the taste of pennies and Nintendo chargers into his mouth and he feels a sob rip out his throat in response, presses himself further into the wall.
Eddie pants against the floor. He can hear it. His shoulders heave and he drools against the hardwood. A wet puddle on the dark brown wood. Saltwater on the front porch. Urine in the carpet. Chlorine by the backdoor. (Blood on the tile-) Saliva on the hardwood.
He lets snot drip down his face in wet globs. Gives himself the silent, ugly cry of his fucking wet dreams. Hair mussed from life, face wet, clothes wrinkled.
He and Eddie rot on the floor.
And Steve hopes that their corpses leaks a hot and venomous acid, and it decomposes the house when they drip.
}}}---->
"Steve?"
He opens his eyes and immediately wishes he hadnt.
"Fuuuck." He breathes, grimacing in pain.
His head hurts. His eyes are half crusted together. His shirt is rucked up onto his stomach and the AC blows cool on that patch of sweaty skin. He rolls onto his side, groaning.
"Motherfucker. What time is it?" He asks, using his pointer and middle finger to rub circles into his temple. Hopes thatll refresh his memory on why the fuck hes in Eddies room. Eddie coughs, then clears his throat.
"Like, four am. Youre laying on my phone and I also figured that youd like to, I dunno, sleep in your own bed. I doubt you wanted to sleep in here anyways." His voice tilts into something guilty, and Steve furrows his brow. Sits up. Eddie isnt even looking at him. Hes staring at the wall right next to him.
"Why wouldn't I want to sleep in here? We've had sleepovers before, Eddie." He reminds, racking his brain for why he would say that, biting back a hiss when pain sparks behind his eyelids. Eddie drifts his hand to his mouth and chews on the skin around his nail beds. His teeth scratch up his pretty pink nails, ruins the manicure he forced Steve to pay for.
Silence wafts between them, like the faint smell of something metallic, sweat, and Eddies flowery shampoo. The scent makes him aware of the wet hair against his shoulders, dripping onto his bare chest. Water drips down his torso, pooling in his belly button and wetting the waistband to his sweatpants.
"I had an episode. I split on you." He says, finally, tearing off a piece of the skin. It doesnt bleed. Eddie told him about that before. The layer of thicker skin with no pain receptors around his nail beds that irritate him constantly. Gives him more hangnails, makes him miss the sides of his nails when he paints them, things like that.
"Oh." Steve replies, simply. "Okay. Cool. Well I dont remember, so Ive got nothing to hold against you. Sooooo maybe stop looking like a kicked puppy, please? Just- Come here." He opens his arms, wide. Splays his fingers out. Eddie finally looks at him.
Stares.
He shuffles over. Hides his face in the dip between his neck and shoulder, nose on his collarbone. Grips onto the fabric of his shirt like theres no tomorrow and tucks his legs between Steves. Shudders a breath, sniffles.
"Im sorry." Eddie whispers, voice watery. Steve presses his cheek to Eddies head. The scent of his shampoo and the sensation of wet hair assaults his senses. "Its okay. You cant control it. Im not mad at you." He murmurs. Eddie nods.
"You should be though. I told you-" His breath catches. Steve rubs circles between his scapulars, gently coaxing the speech from him.
"I told you it was your fault. That I.. That I got assaulted again."
The memories hit him like a freight train. He feels his lungs rattle, takes a deep breath in, relaxes his steadily locking muscles. Licks the backs of his teeth and wishes that he kept the memory of Eddie splitting deep inside his mind scape.
"Its okay. You didnt mean it. It- It wasnt either of our faults." He rushes to say something when Eddies shoulders begin to tremble. Eddie nods. Hesitates. He can feel it in his frame.
"We're... we're still friends, right? Like you're not just reassuring me so Ill be surprised when you kick me out, right?" He asks. Steve gasps.
"No! No, absolutely not, Jesus! I wouldnt do that to you. Im- We're friends. Im not kicking you out. Youre staying." He babbles, panic thrumming in his veins and turning his spine cold. Eddie nods, for the third time, against his collarbone.
" 'Kay. Thank you." He says, and the relief is crystal clear in his voice. "Dont- Bare minimum, Eddie. Just- Holy shit, man. Lets go back to sleep. Ill braid your hair so it doesnt get tangled, cmon." He pushes up at Eddie, patting his back.
The older complies, sliding out from his position and sitting on the bed.
Steve smiles at him.
And reluctantly, Eddie smiles back.
}}}---->
Eddie is in his driver seat again.
Manspreading.
Tonguing his lip, slowly eating off red gloss.
Humming to Pierce the Veil under his breath (One Hundred Sleepless Nights), barely audible over the radio. But because Steve is listening, he catches it, and he turns up his hearing aid in the attempts to fix how horrible his hearing is on that side. In the attempt to hear the baritone of his humming like its next to him.
Hes wearing shorts. Girls cut, jean shorts, like always. Black. A "Judas Priest" shirt cropped, with fishnet under it. His eyes have a dusting of electric blue around them to match the colour of the album cover displayed on his shirt. His usual eyeliner. Silver rings. Steve bites back a sigh. Hes so pretty.
"Youre staring at me with such an intensity, Im a little scared Im going to get burnt." Eddie teases. Steve flushes, but inside hes extremely happy that Eddies returned back to flirting. It took three weeks of him tiptoeing after his split for it. Three weeks of complete and utter deprivation.
"Its not my fault youre attractive." He says, without really thinking. He blinks. What the fuck. Eddie laughs. Genuinely laughs, like he was delighted to hear that, if not a little surprised. "Oh, thank you, sweetheart. Youre doing such a good job of stroking my ego today." Steve bites his lip. Debates his options.
Fuck it.
"Yknow, theres something Im even better at stroking." He snickers, winking when Eddie glances over, watching pink spread over the apples of his cheeks.
"Youre own ego, Im assuming." Eddie rebounds, but its much weaker than the speaking pattern hes had for the rest of the interactive. Steve grins, triumph chiming like bells inside his head.
"No. But we can go with that, if youd like." Eddie breathes out, real slow. Laughs, softly, head lolling briefly before he straightens it back up.
"It must be your favorite hobby to flirt with people in your car, huh." Eddie scratches his cheek. Shifts his hips. Steve tracks the movement like a hawk, is pleased to see how Eddie blushes under his attention.
"Youre not in my car often enough for it to be a hobby. And I only do it to you, so." He shrugs, nonchalantly. As if his heart isnt thumping.
"Guess not, babe. I guess not." The song switches to The Summoning by Sleep Token. His pulse pounds against his neck. Eddie does that stupid, disbelieving laugh again. Takes a hand off the wheel to play with his mouth. Smears that red sheen all over. Steve wants to lick it off. Taste makeup and coconut chapstick on his tongue and cradle the flavour forever.
"You want me to be in your car more often, Steve? Is that what youre trying to hint at me? So that you can flirt like hell?" Eddie questions, voice suddenly smoothing out. Losing that anxious tinge. Steve can feel the change, feel him go into his more dominant headspace like one feels rain on their skin. Wants to squeal in delight. Steve "mhm"s. Eddie hums.
"Okay. So lets say I do that, then. Get in your car more often, let you flirt with me." He turns the song down four degrees.
"Then what?" Steve thinks he might lose his fucking mind. Might already be losing it.
Holy shit.
"What do you mean?" Playing coy. Eddies smile is mean and Steve finds this really compelling urge to moan. Bites it back. Subtly tilts his hips away.
"You know exactly what I mean. Youre not stupid, princess. You act like it but you arent, so how about you put your pretty pink thinking crown on your head and talk to me, yeah?" Steve suddenly... feels very humiliated.
"Im thinkin'." He replies, fighting, no no, scrapping with the urge to pout. Fuck. He really is a bottom bitch, huh? Maybe this is why Nancy broke up with him.
"Uhuh. Give me an answer then." Eddie glances over. For a beat longer than he usually does. Steve feels like he could die. Its hot as Satans balls in the car. He crosses his legs at the ankle. Thinks about whether or not this is a good time to dump it all on him or not. Really thinks that this is not a good time for The Summoning to be playing.
"You should pull over." Steve blurts. Eddie does so, without question. Puts it in park and turns the music down another four degrees (his lip gloss is on the dial, holy shit Eddies lip gloss is on the volume dial-), tilts his body, unbuckles his seatbelt and licks his lips. Pulls one leg into the seat and Steve doesnt even reprimand him for it. Silence lasts for maybe ten seconds.
"Well? You gonna say somethin' or what? 'Cause we're expected at a function in," Eddie looks at the car clock, "Thirty minutes. And youre the one who insisted on being early. So use your words, and use them quickly."
Steve feels small. He tongues his cheek for a second. Gives in to the urge to pout.
"Youre makin' it hard." He hates how Eddie smirks at him. Wants to kiss it right off his stupidly hot face. "Making what hard?" He says, mockingly. Steve feels heat prickle at his neck. He unbuckles his seatbelt, picks at a thread on his shorts.
"Using my words. Youre makin' speaking hard. Just- Just shut up, for a second." He rubs his hands over his face, keeps them over his eyes. He really wants to curl into a ball. Fuck. Eddie hums at him. He can feel the grin on his face without even seeing it. The nerve of this asshole.
"Fuck." He curses. Eddies mouth clicks when he opens it and Steve moves his hands to glare at him. Eddie giggles at him. Fucking giggles. Like he hasnt been giving Steve the most intense boner of his life the entire fucking drive. That piece of shit.
"Uhm." He starts, because he is oh-so-very eloquent, "I think. That. Well maybe. Uhm. Fuck. Stop looking at me like that. Its humiliating." He whines, leaning his head back. Eddie laughs. Doesnt say a damned thing back.
Steve reminds himself to breathe.
"Mother fucker. Uhm! Okay, you asked 'then what'? Right? Well, I dunno. What do you want to happen next? Since youre so curious." He fires. Eddie raises at brow at him. "You know exactly what I want." He replies simply.
"Use your words." He mocks, just to see Eddies eye twitch. He huffs, rolls his eyes.
"Im real fuckin' tired of your attitude." Eddie says. Steve shrugs at him. Raises his chin petulantly. The noise that leaves Eddies mouth can only be described as a growl, and it makes Steves insides tremble. His dick throbs.
"Brat." He spits. Steve 'humphs'.
"Pussy." He says right back. Eddie leans, real slow, over the car. Right into his space. His throne. The only place where Steve had ever felt royal.
"Do you want to play that game, Stevie? Because you know I can get real mean, real fast." Steve thinks of stumbling upon paddles and silken ropes and sounding rods, while attempting to steal clothes. He thinks about how intense his orgasm was, only minutes after, banished to the bathroom. Grins.
"I want you to be mean. Make it hurt." He inhales deeply. His lungs tremble. Excitement has his hands shaking.
"I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Fuck me like you fucking mean it."
Their lips connect and it feels like a star has burst.
Supernova.
Steve grips onto Eddies shoulders like if he even slightly loosens up, he'll slip away. Fall out from his fingers like sand-- or maybe glass shards. Maybe the crumbs of his mothers antique vase, that she locked him into his room for. Eddie licks his lip and the warmth that splashes into his chest feels like driving two states over to hear the crashing of waves.
The song switches. Tempest. Hes committed the intro to memory, just like how hes burning the taste of Eddies mouth there. He was right; Coconut and makeup. Undertones of cigarettes and the slight sour taste from keeping your mouth closed too long. He loves it. He needs it.
One of Eddies hands are on his jaw. It keeps him from pulling away, even when hes desperately trying to pull in breaths through his nose, steal them from Eddies mouth. Hes dizzy and he needs more. His hips buck and he whimpers. Takes a hand off his shoulder and claws at the forearm connected to the hand on his jaw, hears Eddie hiss when blunt nails break skin.
He lets go.
Steve gasps, weak from the air deprivation. He pants. Eddie takes a moment to lean back, pull a hairtie from Steves cupholder and tie his hair back into a ponytail with a practiced ease that has Steve wanting to have his lips on him again.
"Fuck," He huffs, brokenly. Eddie laughs at him, leans back in and tongues at Steves neck. Scrapes his teeth and drags his tongue in a way thats overwhelming. Hes a hair trigger away from palming himself with his free hand when Eddie presses it to his chest, with a bruising pressure that makes him moan, hot and breathy like he was being fucked already.
"Oh, youre fuckin desperate, huh?" Eddie chuckles against his neck, and Steve shivers.
"Please." He mumbles, clawing and the shoulder he still has in grip. His hips buck again, and its met with Eddies thigh. He makes a noise alike a squeal, presses his boner into the soft skin of Eddies thigh and thinks he may be dying. He squirms when it presses back, slow but unyielding, putting his hips back in place and keeping them there. After- what? Twenty minutes? Of being hard as a fucking rock, the stimulation makes him wanna cry.
He hiccups.
"If I had known you'd be this easy for me, I would have done this much sooner." Eddie murmurs, before biting, hard, onto his collarbone. Steve jerks, keening with his teeth clashing together, finger spasming at the sensation.
"Please, Eds. Pleasepleasepleaseplease, I needa cum so bad, please, it hurts-" He groans at the feeling of Eddies finger circling around his nipple. Arches into it. Moans all pretty and nice when Eddie licks into the wound-- because its a fucking wound, covered in saliva with blood coming through, skin red and irritated around the site.
"It doesnt hurt. Take what I give you, baby. Thats what good girls do." Steves hips attempt to buck for the thousandth time, and fail miserably. He wails, tears genuinely pricking his waterline. His face feels like its on fire.
"Cant be a good girl, cant! I need it so bad, Eddie, please! Please give it to me, 'm sorry for brattin'! I didn't mean it-!" He babbles, mind effective gone, pupils probably blown to hell and back. Eddie moans, hot against his skin.
"Well, when you say it like that." He purrs, voice lilting. Steve sobs.
"What do you need? I cant fuck you right now, theres no lube and we're in a car. So dont suggest that." Steve regains half his mind back and pouts, honest to god, whining in protest. Eddie perks a brow at him, even if his lip curls at the corner.
"Y'could use your spit." Steve suggests. Eddie laughs at him. Like it was the funniest thing ever. Pinches his nipple and laughs a little harder when he jolts.
"Im not using spit as lube, sweetheart. Not for our first. Ill suck you off. Open your legs for me?" Eddies thigh lifts off his dick. He whimpers at the loss. Still, opens his legs anyway. He pretends hes doing a very good job of ignoring the following laughter.
Eddie crawls into the space between his legs, kisses his thighs. Swirls his tongue on the inner parts of it and looks absolutely delighted when Steve groans at the sensitivity, muscles tensing. His hips shift around restlessly. Eddie mumbles something about him moaning just to moan. He doesnt think he'll ever understand how good it feels to even have Eddie on him. Near him.
Fuck.
He undoes his shorts. Loosens his belt. Picks fun at him for wearing jorts, two sizes too small (Steve bites his lip to keep from saying it was for Eddies attention) and pulls them down his legs, hooks it over one ankle. He mouths at the head of his dick through his boxers, putting a wet spot on the grey, and he whimpers.
"Shit. It feels like 'M gonna cry. This 's hot. Youre hot." Steve laughs, resting his hands atop Eddies head. The older dips his tongue into the slit and Steve feels the muscles of his abdomen flex in response. Eddie kisses the skin above his waistband, then pulls it down. The air is humid in the car, windows fogging up, so he doesnt worry about it being cold. Steve is, very, very, absolutely, scandalized when Eddie just tucks the fabric under his balls. Wiggles his hips and grunts in protest. Eddie rolls his eyes.
"You are aware that we have like, ten minutes before we have to go, right? Stop being a brat, Steve, or Ill treat you like one." He threatens, mildly, like hes annoyed but distantly so. Steve whines. Eddie mimics it, mockingly, pitching it up and staring up through his lashes. "Thats how you sound, Steve. Shut the fuck up." He rolls his eyes. Leans forward, And takes him in one go. Steves not even quite sure how he didnt come immediately from that.
"Shit! Shitshitshitshiiiit, fuck, oh my god, Eddie, Eddie fuck-!" He babbles, hips thrashing, feeling like he cant breathe under all the pleasure. Eddie gags around him, throat constricting and Steve feels tears drip from his waterline at the overwhelming spike of heat through him.
Eddie takes his hands and presses his hips back, firmly. Keeps them from moving. Steve whines, taking his hands back and gripping onto Eddies ponytail. He glares at him, with his lashes sticking together. A normal reaction from a gag reflex being triggered yet Steve feels like he could cum just from the sight. Pretty brown eyes shooting the sun to blow a cavern into his chest.
Fuck.
Fuuuuuck.
"Im not gonna last." He blurts, throwing his head back when Eddie swallows. He makes a sound that can only be described at a mewl, knee jerking. Fingers twitching. He takes one hand off Eddies ponytail and digs it into the fabric of his car seat. Feels more tears spill when Eddie bobs his head with fervor, eyes closed in concentration. Steve can feel the faint puffs of his breaths out of nose on skin skin and really, honestly, he is not at all sure how hes made it so far without cumming. Eddie pulls up, tongues right under the head, and-
"Oh god, Im gonna cum, gonna cuuuum- Fuck, please dont stop, feels so good- fuck! Shit-" He rambles as his eyes white out entirely. Hips fighting against Eddies warm hands, against the cool press of his rings, against the sharp pricks of his nails. Steve feels himself shooting down Eddies throat, feels the pleasure following him through it, following him out too. The older lifts a hand off his hip and rubs a circle around the head as he swallows a couple times. Places the hand back and takes him whole again. Doesnt even give him the chance to soften up.
He keens.
"Ah, 's too much, let up, let up!" He squeals, pushing at Eddies head as he hollows his cheeks and keeps on moving. He tries to pull his hips back but Eddie nudges them forward, sinking his dick further into the heavenly heat of his mouth-- throat, at this point. He sobs, gurgling on the sound as he claws at the seat. Eddie laughs and the vibration has him gasping.
"Stopstopstopstop owwww! It hurts, hurts Daddy, fuck! Gotta let up, I cant- I cant-" Steve makes a noise to only be described as animalistic, bucks his hips without really meaning to. Makes little 'uh uh uh's to the rhythm of Eddie, feeling like hes in both heaven and hell all at once. He cant stop moving. His shirt sticks to his back with sweat and his hair is probably mussed from writhing against the head rest. His stomach clenches.
Its too much.
"Please, I cant- Cant cum again, or anythin'- Shit, please. I dont-" He sobs, hiccups. "Its too much. It hurts." His legs tremble.
Eddie sinks his head low, nose in his pubic hair, throat spasming as he gags, eyes squeezed shut as a tear slips down his cheek (gag reflex reaction, gag reflex reaction-), dragging blue with it. Eddies moans vibrate his dick and he squirms in every direction possible. He doesnt even move, just keeps it there, and oh-
Eddie lifts up, gasps his breath, rests his head on Steves thigh. He looks fucked out. Pupils probably just as blown as Steves. They breathe loudly in Steves car, with Lotion playing faintly from the aux.
Steve waits til the humidity results in feeling even more suffocating than being choked to roll the window down. Steve pulls his boxers back on properly. Laughs when Eddie closes his eyes and groans, really loudly. "Dont fucking laugh at me. I just came in my pants like a teenager from giving head." He scoffs, though his cheeks are pink with embarrassment. His voice is croaky and scratchy, and its insanely hot. Steve laughs a little harder, mostly to keep from getting another boner, and points to the backseat.
"Where the cup holders are? Spare clothes. Grab me a shirt, please." He snickers, as Eddie hefts himself up and reaches behind them. He hums. "No boxers for you, though. Fabric shorts should work fine." He murmurs, more to himself as he seats to neatening himself up. "Id rather go commando." Eddie huffs. Steve gasps, acting scandalized. "In front of children?!" He shrieks, and Eddie snickers at him.
He grabs a pair of black shorts (girls athletic, fresh from the pack) and pulls his soiled clothes off in one go, steps on one side to get it off his ankle then the other for that one. Shimmies them up his legs. He examines his bulge in them momentarily, before shrugging.
Then he throws a white shirt at Steve. He catches it, easily, unravels it to see an Ungrateful Dead shirt. Sighs, heavily. Takes his shirt off and replaced it with the one that is definitely from Eddies collection. Made even more obvious by the inch and a half missing from the bottom.
Motherfucker.
Eddie glances over to the dash then curses, loudly. Pulls his hair from the ponytail and hurries into the drivers seat. "Holy shit, we were supposed to be there ten minutes ago-!" He gasps.
Steve laughs so hard he almost pisses himself.
}}}---->
"I cant believe Hop hosted a barbecue and forgot to get more bread. Thats so stupid!" Mike complains, loudly, trudging behind Steve disdainfully. Will snickers. "Things like that happen, Mike. Its not like anyone reminded him." Steve feels Mike glare a hole into his head. Doesn't give a single fuck. They approach his car. Steve unlocks the door and Mike goes around to ride shotgun.
Opens the door, and gags. "You fucking fiend! It smells like ass, sweat, and balls in there! Holy shit." He gets his sweaty child fingerprints all over Steves freshly washed car.
His eye twitches.
"I said I wanted to go by myself." Steve shrugs.
Will stands a foot away, with the door open, looking near the floor in horror. Steve feels his brow furrow. "Will?" The boy slowly looks up at him. "Mike is right. You are a fiend. Whose shorts are those?" He breathes out, hysterically.
Steve feels his eyes widen, meets Mikes over the car, and rushes to move Will out the way before Mike can see them because he knows-
"HOLY SHIT YOU HAVE EDDIES SHORTS IN YOUR BACKSEAT??? WHAT THE HELL?? IS THAT WHY YOU WERE LATE?!" His shrieking, child voice carries over the yard.
He sees Robin giving him the most disappointed stare known to man. Dustin gagging, aggressively. Eddie absolutely losing his shit, keeled over and wheezing so loud he can hear it across the yard.
He glares at Mike. "Yeah yeah, why dont you announce it to fuckin' everyone, huh?" He grumbles, ignoring how red his face is. He hears Max snort. She walks towards the back door, opens it, and shouts into the house, "LUCAS! You owe me a twenty!" He doesnt hear Lucas' response.
He presses his lips together, and wonders why hes stuck around so long with these assholes.